"How much would this be worth?" Gwaine asked eagerly, holding the chrysalis delicately in the air to examine it. The orange of the fading sunset refracted in the crystal protrusions at its crown.
"A hefty sum, I'd wager," Percival grunted. Elyan silently agreed, and determinedly did not think about the black market. Merlin hummed.
"Yes, now perhaps they would be. There was a time when they were common as anything," he recalled. Gwaine frowned.
"Just how old are you, Merlin? You talk like an old man."
Merlin laughed, his eyes crinkling charmingly.
"I suppose I'm older than I look. I'm not sure." A pause. "I've been alone a long time. It becomes difficult to keep track."
"Are there not others here?" Lancelot asked.
"Yes, quite a few druid camps, though they're more like villages. There's no need to move around when the forest is so abundant."
"But they aren't your friends?" Gwaine pressed. Merlin sighed.
"No...I know them, and they know me, in a way. Nobody falls ill here, every child grows old, the harvest is always bountiful; those blessings are granted by Magic. Responsibility and friendship can't always go hand in hand."
"I see," Lancelot nodded sympathetically. Merlin shook his head kindly.
"No, you don't."
This resonated with Arthur, who was startled by Merlin's poignant observation. Even his knights, who he trusted and liked, were not his friends the way they were to each other. It felt odd that of everyone the prince had met, it was a powerful sorcerer that seemed to understand the same weight of leadership on Arthur's shoulders. Someone who should be Arthur's opposite, but perhaps wasn't so different under it all.
Arthur caught the thought and scolded himself thoroughly. Merlin had just implied that his magic was responsible for keeping this place the way it was. That suggested he had far more power over this domain than being a simple resident. Was he some sort of king here? What was he playing at, exposing himself to the enemy this way?
"What other ingredients do you need for this potion?" the prince asked abruptly, suddenly realising he had to prevent Merlin from worming his way into his knights' affections more than he already had, "We could spread out and collect them."
Merlin turned to him and narrowed his eyes, though he didn't comment on the change of subject.
"No, you couldn't. You don't know this place, and you'd have no idea what you were looking for."
"Then draw us pictures, maps," Arthur countered. Merlin shook his head.
"Some things can't be drawn. Besides, you would take too long," he eyed them skeptically, "I'll collect them on my own - that's the most efficient way. You can wait for me at the house."
"Absolutely not," the prince snapped immediately. Merlin stared at him in frosty silence, and Arthur realised he was getting close to giving the sorcerer orders again. He let out a measured breath.
"We'll all accompany you," he amended diplomatically. Merlin raised an eyebrow, but seemed to relax a bit.
"Have it your way," he shrugged. Merlin didn't move. They all stood in awkward silence for a moment.
"Er...lead the way, Merlin," Lancelot suggested lightly. Merlin squinted at the sky.
"It's too dark, now. Best to wait until first light."
"Sire-" Leon started, about to remind Arthur of the time limit Emrys had given them. Arthur motioned for him to keep quiet, suspicious eyes trained on Merlin.
Finding the chrysalis had taken much longer than expected - the sun had set while his men and Merlin chased butterflies like children. Arthur was well aware of the time limit. But did Merlin know? Perhaps Merlin was stalling them, so he'd have more time to enact his scheme. Perhaps his scheme was simply to waylay them so Mordred remained cursed when their time was up. But what could he possibly want with Mordred?
Regardless, if the sorcerer did not know about their time limit, Arthur intended to keep it that way. He glanced at the horizon, now only lined with a sliver of orange under the weight of the deep night sky. They had one sunset left.
Despite his distrust of Merlin, Arthur had no better plan. Merlin obviously knew more than he was willing to disclose, and he claimed to know where Mordred was. So Arthur would play along until it was no longer useful.
"Alright. Make camp, get some rest, and we start bright and early," Arthur declared. He signalled Leon to come collect firewood with him. When Arthur deemed them far enough away from Merlin, he began to lay out his plan.
When Arthur and Leon returned, there was already a fire burning in the centre of their camp.
"Rise and shine, Arthur!"
Arthur groaned in protest, but didn't stir otherwise. The other men, who had awoken as soon as Merlin began to loudly bustle about the camp, bit back chuckles. The prince was decidedly not a morning person.
A mischievous sparkle grew in Merlin's eyes. The others watched with interest.
"Wake up, Prince Arthur! There's a sorcerer in the camp!" he shouted in a dramatically panicked voice. To his delight, the prince shot upright, eyes wild. He scrambled to find his sword.
"Where?!" he demanded, blinking awake, "Where, Merlin?!"
They met eyes, and Merlin lasted all of two seconds before bursting into laughter. Arthur's groggy mind took a moment to process. Sheathing his sword, he scowled in understanding.
"Very funny," he grumbled. Unfortunately, the rest of the knights did seem to think it was. At least they all had the decency to attempt to hide their amusement (bar Gwaine, who was pointing and laughing like a child).
And alright, it was a bit funny. But Arthur refused to concede victory, so he kept the scowl plastered on his face. Merlin sobered up eventually. It was nothing but extremes with him, apparently, as it was the moment he stopped laughing he sprang to his feet seriously.
"Alright, enough faffing about! Time to get a move on!"
With a wave of his hand, the magical fire sputtered out of existence. Their bedrolls rolled themselves up, odds and ends clambering back into packs. The leftover skins of the yams Merlin had somehow cooked up for them crawled into neat holes in the dirt. In a matter of moments, the campsite was pristine.
Still unused to such casual shows of magic, the knights stared in disbelief. Merlin clapped his hands together sharply.
"What is it? Can't get all your accessories on without help?"
Another wave had Gwaine's mail soaring into the air over his head, brusquely pulling itself onto his body with his cooperation. The knight's belt wound itself around him, much more gently. To Arthur's unending annoyance, Gwaine was delighted. Of course he was, the lazy sod.
A stern look from Merlin had them all scrambling to get their things on before he put them on for them.
"You are a strange man, Merlin," Gwaine observed cheerfully. Arthur thought it sounded rather like a compliment. Merlin seemed to think so too, because he beamed back at Gwaine in response.
"We'd better get a move on. They'll be asleep soon."
"They?" Leon asked, but Merlin was already off.
"Why does he always do that?" Elyan asked, exasperated. They hurriedly gathered up the last of their things. Gwaine, who was already ready, followed Merlin and left them to scramble.
"So what are we looking for this time, Merlin?" Gwaine asked eagerly as his friends caught up.
"You'll know it when you see it," Merlin assured him. Gwaine looked a bit disappointed, but didn't push.
"He...didn't answer the question," Leon muttered to nobody in particular. Elyan patted his shoulder sympathetically.
"I don't think he knows how to," he replied, grim.
"Are you certain you know where you're going?" Arthur checked again, frowning at Merlin's back.
"Are you certain you should follow?" Merlin shot back. Arthur was at a loss with the answer, but took it as an insult anyway and scowled.
"I'm becoming less so every minute," he grumbled.
"Well, we can't have that, can we? Feel free to turn back anytime," Merlin snickered. Arthur made a face at the sorcerer. The knights had never seen him do something so...playful before. The prince opened his mouth to snipe back, but Lancelot interrupted with the first thing he could think of.
"So, Merlin, were you born here?" he asked. He was genuinely curious, certainly, but mostly keen to derail any bickering between Arthur and Merlin where he could. If Mordred really was enchanted, Merlin was their only chance of fixing it.
"Born...no, not exactly."
Lancelot frowned. What did that mean?
"See? He has no bloody clue how to answer a question," Elyan whispered. Gwaine and Percival just laughed at his irritation.
"You weren't born here?" Lancelot tried again. Merlin shook his head.
"No, I wasn't. I...come from a large family. Our mother wanted us all to find separate paths, find ourselves, so to speak. But I was young, very close with my older siblings, inseparable from my twin brother. It was difficult for me to find my path apart from theirs." There was a note of wistfulness in his voice that struck a chord with the knights. Even Arthur, unwillingly, thought of his own struggle to become his own man, separate from his father.
"I was happy, for a while. Travelling, helping with harvests and illness and selling my potions. I saw such wonderful things across the lands...but it became difficult to travel safely in these parts, after a time."
They knew immediately that he was speaking of the Purge. The prince wilted a little. He believed in the cause wholeheartedly, but that didn't mean he enjoyed the slaughter. Of course he could sympathise. For all that sorcerers were corrupted, they were still people who could still feel and suffer. The Purge was...a necessary evil.
But once again, this brought up the question of Merlin's age. Arthur was only a babe when his father had begun the Purge. If Merlin had already been travelling and working, he had to be double Arthur's age! How was that possible? Even sorcerers, Arthur knew, did not live forever.
"To answer your question," Merlin winked at Elyan, "I wasn't born here in the traditional sense. But I was formed here in the ways that really matter. The forest came to me when I needed it most. I would've been destroyed, if not for this place."
He paused in his stride, looking down intensely, seeming to be lost in painful memories. Gwaine patted his shoulder. None of them knew what to say. 'I'm sorry' was at the tip of Lancelot's tongue, but he bit down. What use were condolences from someone who had the blood of Merlin's people on his hands?
"What about the rest of your family? Your twin? Did they escape to Emrys as well?" he asked instead. Merlin sighed.
"I feel their presence here, always. I see them in every face, everywhere...but we can't be together like we were before."
Elyan tried to decipher whether or not that meant they were dead. He couldn't. But he dared not press, not when Merlin seemed strangely vulnerable, small, for the first time since they'd met him.
"My twin, Aengus. I miss him the most," Merlin said quietly. Elyan almost felt bad for the comment about answering questions, now. This was obviously a painful subject, and he knew what it felt like to be far from your family. The sorcerer sighed again, then started to walk.
"Aengus? Like the god of love?" Leon wondered aloud. Merlin huffed, though Leon couldn't tell what he was expressing.
"Yes. Exactly like that."
"You know, you say that quite a bit, Merlin," Gwaine started, half-playful, half-thoughtful, "and I'm starting to think-"
Suddenly, Merlin shushed them. He frantically gestured for them to stop. Gwaine looked a bit put out, but complied.
"We're almost there! Don't startle them," he hissed.
The knights glanced at each other in confusion. Them?
Merlin yanked Gwaine down by the arm, dropping into a squat and forcing the knight to follow. Gwaine turned to him to complain, but saw Merlin was pointing at something ahead of them. His gaze followed Merlin's extended arm. The knights followed them to the ground, prepared for some threat. But Gwaine's eyes widened with wonder, not fear.
"B-" Merlin slapped a hand over his mouth, glaring.
"Sh!" he barely breathed out, somehow still managing to make his admonishment effective. The knights barely stifled their own sounds of surprise as they saw what Gwaine had.
Before them was a towering hawthorne, by all accounts just a normal large hawthorne but for one thing: it had shining golden berries. And draped over the leaves, branches and curled up by the trunk were tiny snow white creatures, fast asleep. There had to be at least sixty of them.
They couldn't make out the details from so far away, but the little creatures looked distinctly humanoid. Squinting, the knights thought they could make out ornate clothes on their miniature bodies. They reminded Arthur of the delicate porcelain dolls some of the noble girls had as children. He bumped Merlin to get his attention and mouthed what are they? Merlin mouthed something in response, but the word was unfamiliar, and Arthur couldn't make it out. To his annoyance, Gwaine seemed to know exactly what they were, and he looked delighted as ever. Even more annoying, Arthur didn't know whether his delight signalled that they were dangerous or harmless.
As they watched, another little person stumbled into the clearing. He yawned, his mouth forming a tiny 'o'. Merlin grinned, and looked like he was barely holding back a coo. The little person took another step forward and pushed off the ground with force. To the knights' surprise, he shot into the air like he was flying, landing gracefully on a branch high off the ground. It was as if he'd been lifted by an invisible hand. Something shiny on his coat glinted in the light.
Merlin gestured for them to keep waiting, watching. Arthur wondered what they were waiting for, and why they were taking such care not to be noticed. Could it be that these little monsters were powerful enough to pose a threat? After a few moments, Merlin carefully rose from his crouch.
"Be quiet. Don't get too close. Really, I'd prefer if you stayed here," he whispered, and stepped into the clearing. He made his way over to the bush with feather light steps. Arthur elbowed Gwaine questioningly.
"Brùnaidh," Gwaine breathed, "little helpers."
Percival's face lit with understanding, and the two knights shared an excited look. Arthur figured if Percival was excited then it probably wasn't a trap.
The sorcerer was gingerly picking his way between the brùnaidh, careful not to even brush them with his feet. Arthur guessed he was trying to get to the hawthorne, for some reason. Perhaps to gather berries? Why did he have to wait until they were asleep to do that?
Percival, Lancelot and Elyan elected to linger at the periphery, heeding Merlin's instructions. But Arthur and Gwaine slowly followed Merlin, trying their best to be silent. After a conflicted moment, Leon decided he had to follow to protect his prince, but he wasn't happy about it.
Merlin eventually reached the tree, and was gently attempting to pick the berries without disturbing the little people sleeping on the branches. As he got closer, Arthur saw that there were little doorways in the tree's trunk. The brùnaidh were indeed wearing elaborate shifts, embellished with golden thread and tiny beads. Some of them even had little accessories, and all of them had bold spots of rouge on their cheeks. He stared in fascination as their little eyelids fluttered in dreaming. The hair on their heads was white as their skin, and despite the varying lengths and styles, Arthur found he could not identify if there were males and females.
Like Arthur, the other knights were absorbed in the creatures. It seemed inconceivable that creatures so small could be real, and not just dolls enchanted to appear breathing. They wondered if they thought and spoke like people, too. Arthur wanted to know why Gwaine had called them 'little helpers'. What could they possibly help with? Picking pockets?
As they got closer, Merlin looked sharply over and motioned for them to stop. Belatedly, the knights realised the creatures were beginning to stir. Merlin gestured disdainfully at their chainmail, mouthing too loud. They stopped where they were, unsure of the consequences if they were to wake them.
But despite their best efforts, the knights were simply too heavy to walk silently.
Leon took a single step backwards, and brushed Gwaine just slightly. In the tranquility of the clearing, metal meeting metal was loud as a bell.
One by one, the brùnaidh frowned, yawned, sat up. They rubbed their eyes and blinked awake. Arthur was startled to see that their eyes were a bright, shocking gold, glowing like candles. He was too fascinated by the altogether foreign sight to register the moment when they began to realise what had woken them. The nearest creature to Arthur gasped, pointing frantically at him. It shouted, angry, alarmed, afraid, springing to its feet. The others responded immediately, and soon, the whole group was up, each of them screaming with rage. The sound of their voices was nothing like Arthur expected. He thought perhaps they'd sound like people, but smaller, but the language was nothing they could comprehend. Some of them sounded like the creaks of a wooden house, others like doors creaking, and others still like a candle blowing out. The whole situation suddenly seemed far more ominous than Arthur had anticipated. Were they casting spells? Cursing them?
He had his hand on his sword instantly, but drew it back with a hiss when he felt the metal burn his hand. Looking up, he quickly realised Merlin had used his magic to prevent him from drawing his sword. The sorcerer was glaring at him with sincere anger. Arthur groaned. Great, he'd pissed off the little magic monsters and the big magic monster. He held up his hands in surrender, and Merlin nodded hesitantly.
Leon was surprised by the feeling of something thwacking his forehead, followed by the slow trickle of liquid. Hand automatically going to the spot, he found it was covered in a golden juice. He looked back at the tree.
The brùnaidh had plucked berries from the tree. Comically, they looked to be about the same size as their heads. Leon saw one of them fling the berry with greater strength than he would have guessed it possessed. The berry sailed through the air, and Leon watched as if in slow motion as it splattered right on Arthur's nose. The prince recoiled, making an indignant noise.
"You've done it now!" Merlin laughed, "Get out of here, before you're covered in jam!"
Gwaine needed no further warning. He turned on his heel and ran over to where the others were waiting, shielding his face from the flying berries as he went. Leon followed quickly. He had no desire to be sticky all day. Arthur, who was the closest to the tree, was pelted a great deal before he got out of range. The brùnaidh jeered after them, but thankfully didn't follow. Arthur supposed he shouldn't have been surprised to see that they were leaving Merlin completely alone. One in a branch near Merlin's head even appeared to be stroking its hand through his hair fondly. Arthur scowled.
Merlin ambled over to them, obviously fighting laughter at the sticky mess that was made of Arthur. The prince crossed his arms in irritation.
"Seriously?" he grumbled. Merlin's lips twitched.
"Serves you right for waking them," he said loftily, "They've been working hard all night, and they get rightfully peeved when their rest is interrupted."
"Working hard?" Arthur asked incredulously, "Doing what?"
"House cleaning," Percival supplied helpfully. To Arthur's annoyance, he looked to be holding back his amusement, too.
"House cleaning?" Leon prompted, looking curious. He hadn't been pelted too badly, and he looked a bit tempted to taste the berry juice on his finger. At Arthur's warning look, he hurriedly wiped it on his pants.
"They go into people's houses at night to cook and clean in exchange for small gifts," Percival explained.
"What, like clothes?" Elyan asked, squinting across the way at the brùnaidh, who were still shouting at them.
"They love thread," Merlin agreed, "And shiny things. And milk."
"So they're just tiny servants?" Arthur frowned, confused. What was the catch?
"No," Merlin scowled, "They help because they want to, not because they need to."
"Servants work because they want to," Arthur argued, realising a second after he said it that it wasn't the right thing to say. Even Leon shot him a look.
"The druids treat them kindly, so they treat the druids kindly," Merlin explained, ignoring Arthur apart from raising an eyebrow at his statement, like it was so stupid he couldn't even be bothered rebutting it.
"They'll take their exhaustion out on the poor druids tonight," the sorcerer sighed as an afterthought.
"How so?" Leon asked.
"Oh, the worst sort of irritations. Putting little rocks in people's shoes that just won't come out no matter how much you shake them, food that's bland no matter how much you salt it. That sort of thing," Merlin explained.
"That's all?" Elyan asked incredulously. Merlin shot him an unimpressed look.
"Oh, how could I forget? They also curse the land so the crops wither and die, and poison the wells, and turn all the men into radishes," Merlin rolled his eyes, voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Alright, no need to get stroppy about it," Elyan rolled his eyes right back at him, but he was laughing. After a beat, he seemed to realise that he was having friendly banter with a sorcerer, and he wiped the smile off of his face.
"Did you get what you needed?" Leon asked Merlin. The sorcerer opened his hand to reveal seven perfectly round berries.
"This will be sufficient," he responded in the affirmative. Gwaine peered at them curiously.
"What's magic about them? Can they make you fall in love? Turn your skin golden?"
Merlin regarded him carefully for a moment, looking pensive.
"Magic doesn't always make things happen, or make things change," he said thoughtfully, "Sometimes it just is."
"So...they don't do anything?" Gwaine frowned, confused. Merlin smiled enigmatically.
"They do a great many things. They feed the animals, and the brùnaidh. They balance volatile potions. They spread seeds, to make more trees."
He looked down, caressing the berries with gentle fingers.
"They grow."
The men were all silent for a moment, feeling like they'd just been told something important. Elyan got the feeling that Merlin actually was answering the question directly - he just couldn't understand it. Eventually, Arthur cleared his throat.
"So, what do we need next?"
Merlin's smile became sharp with mischief.
"This one will be easy for you, Arthur. You've been training all your life for this."
Arthur raised his eyebrows.
"Is it some sort of duel? A swordfight?"
"No," Merlin grinned, "You've got to make someone cry."