Hey all. I wanted to get this chapter up quickly since the last one was so short. Hope you guys enjoyed my little fable. I hope by the end of the story it will make sense. :) First of all, reviewer responses!

Reviewer Responses

CaptainOzone: I'm glad you liked it! I love your Merlin fics and I'm glad you've taken an interest in mine! :)

Funus Nex: Mmmmmaaaaaaybeeeee

Healed535: Thanks. :) I was very proud of my fable, and excited about the poem. I am normally complete rubbish at poetry.

shadow visor: Thanks! Hopefully I can hold your attention.

Ash9: Oh there are several points through the story that Arthur's mind will be completely blown.

servant123: It reminds you of C.S Lewis...? *squeeeee* Thank you!

Alright, I don't own Merlin and here we go!

Merlin coughed heavily and waved at the dust that assaulted his senses as he stepped into the vaults. The dungeon-like area of the castle brought a mix of feelings rushing to his mind each time he entered it. On one hand, it was the incarnation of Camelot's fear and hatred of magic. Hundreds of books, items, and scrolls- each one priceless to a magic-user- were all quarantined away from the people as though they feared infection. The vaults were considered a place of darkness where the devices of the evil of the world were stored and locked safely away where they could no longer harm anyone.

On the other hand, the entire area absolutely hummed with magic. It was invigorating. Though not all of it was friendly, it was all familiar. Each time Merlin's foot hit that last step he the power enveloped him, like slipping into a soothing bath. Like these items, he too was quarantined; his true self locked in for his own safety. But coming down here was like raising his head above the surface of the water and sucking in a breath of badly needed air... even if it was a musty breath.

Arthur lit the torches around the main room and then shoved his into Merlin's hands. He heaved a sigh and looked around as though calculating a strategy. The area looked as though it had once been tediously organized and cleaned, but since then had fallen into chaos, with things being moved and searched without being returned to their original state. Along one wall there hung a frame covered by a cloth, underlined by a rather large series of paintings that leaned in stacks against the wall. In the back there stood a large and simple cupboard, whose shelves were decorated with charms and gems of all kinds. Along the wall opposite the paintings was a bookshelf that was sparsely populated with leather-bound tomes, and on the floor at its side there was a box that was overflowing with loose parchment and old scrolls.

"What are you looking for again?" Merlin asked, glancing around as Arthur bent to examine the scrolls.

"No matter how many times you ask that, the answer is still, 'none of your business'," growled Arthur, not looking up at his manservant.

Merlin puffed his cheeks out and sighed, letting his eyes wander the shelves of mystical items. "Does it have to do with all the secret trips you've been making to the library?"

There was a distinct 'thud' as Arthur started slightly and slammed his head on the shelf above the box. "I've what?" he demanded, a strange tightness in his tone.

Merlin gave him a knowing look. "Don't worry. I figure with how secret you're being about it you didn't want anyone to know. I haven't told anyone." Merlin waved his hand as he stopped in front of the covered frame that hung on the wall. He swung his head around to give Arthur a playful look. "Afraid someone will see you trying to get smarter? Cause you know, once you try to fix it, you're admitting you're a complete cabbage-head."

Arthur stood still for a moment, the confusion on his face replaced by annoyance. A smirk slowly overtook his lips and he folded his arms. "Alright, Merlin. Tell me why you've been fainting like a girl for the past two weeks and I'll tell you what I'm doing in the library."

Merlin clammed up. He hated to see the smug look of victory on Arthur's face, but he couldn't very well tell him the reasons for his fainting spells. How was he to explain that his mind was being assaulted by screams of the dying and tortured? Over and over, without any warning, his mind would be violently assaulted and eventually overloaded by the voices. He had suspected them to be druids, but on the nights that he rode out of the city in secret, he had found no ruined camps, no source of the death that was playing out so vividly in his mind.

The voices would not respond to his thoughts as he tried to speak to them, comfort them, anything. Instead, it was as though their fear- raw and instinctive- was reaching and crying out for anyone to listen. There were the cries of men, women and children; some pleading for mercy, and others raging at their attackers. Merlin was helpless to do anything. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to rush to help, and yet he was forced to sit still and simply listen.

After a few moments of silence, Arthur nodded. "Yeah I thought not." He returned to his task. "You really should talk to Gaius about that. The sooner you start falling over after I hit you the better."

Merlin didn't acknowledge that Arthur had even spoken. He stared at the covered frame. The magic coming from it didn't feel particularly friendly, but Merlin felt drawn to it all the same. He grasped the rough fabric and flipped the corner up a bit, just enough to see the far right side of what it covered. The edges at first appeared plain. But as Merlin studied the worn wood, he recognized the rough scratching of the druid tongue. Inside the frame was held a mirror. It was one of fine craft, far above the quality of the ordinary frame that held it. Merlin stared at his reflection for a long moment, as though this were the first time he'd ever seen himself. There was no doubt that this was a powerful magic item; it was as though the Merlin staring back at him was different from the Merlins he came across in other mirrors.

So absorbed was he in the mirror that he didn't hear Arthur's cry of discovery as he pulled a scroll from the pile and stood. Seeing Merlin so enthralled, Arthur rolled his eyes, grabbed the cloth, and pulled it back over the mirror. "You look pretty today, Merlin?" he demanded with a small smirk on his lips.

Merlin shook his head, snapping out of his trance as Arthur took the torch from him and headed up the stone steps. With one backwards glance at the covered mirror, Merlin followed.

The rest of Merlin's day was fairly Arthur-free. The king was whisked off to meetings with the council (which Merlin was all-too-happy to avoid) whist Merlin was at Gaius' disposal. His afternoon and evening were consumed by helping his mentor brew drafts and collecting a rather sizable batch of herbs. After readying the king and queen's chambers for bed (for which only the latter was present) Gaius handed him a slip of paper and asked him to retrieve a book from the library.

The library was dark save for several lit candles on Geoffrey's desk, though the normally ever-present librarian was nowhere around. Merlin leaned this way and that, checking all the nearby aisles for a sign of the man. However, all he saw was a dim glow from the other side of the large room.

Though he really had no reason to, Merlin walked as quietly as he could manage through the aisles of books until he rounded a corner and spotted Geoffrey bent over a desk that was piled high with musty books and faded scrolls. Sitting at the desk was none other than Arthur, both of them completely engrossed in whatever it was that the librarian seemed to be helping him with. The conversation was quiet enough that Merlin couldn't make it out as though they feared discovery. After a moment, Arthur pointed at something and Geoffrey headed toward the back of the library, disappearing into one of the dark aisles. Arthur continued pouring over the scrolls, moving papers about, and Merlin approached with enough noise that, under normal circumstances, would have alerted the king. though At the moment, he seemed too focused to notice. Merlin bent over the desk, straining his eyes to make out what it was Arthur was looking at. He didn't see what he expected, though in honesty he didn't know what he had expected.

The scroll was covered in beautiful calligraphy, but not in the common tongue. To Merlin's surprise, the scroll was written in the druidic language. There were several pieces of parchment loose about the desk that looked like several attempts to translate the text. The books surrounding him all seemed to concern druid culture and language.

"Learning a second language?"

Merlin barely missed being slapped upside the head as in his surprise, the king's hand swung out quick as a snake strike. The manservant chuckled slightly at his reaction and took a step back before turning his head sideways to get a better view of the literature beneath the king's hands.

"What are you doing here, Merlin?" Arthur demanded.

"Picking up a book for Gaius," answered Merlin, still examining what of the papers he could see.

"Right," crooned Arthur, rolling his eyes and leaning heavily on one of his arms. "You weren't snooping at all. Gaius just happened to ask for a-!"

Merlin cut him off by holding up the small piece of parchment with the name of the book scrawled on it. Arthur stared at it for a moment then heaved a sigh of defeat. Merlin set the paper down on the desk and grabbed a nearby stool, plopping down across from the blonde. "Seriously Arthur… what are you doing?"

Arthur eyed him for a moment before looking back down at his papers and muttering, "Researching."

"Researching druids?" Merlin asked slowly.

The concept of Arthur researching anything on his own seemed a little bizarre, but that the object was a community of magical people was even stranger. Arthur looked up at his servant after a few minutes of feeling the man's stare of disbelief boring into the back of his head and found himself just a little offended.

"What?" cried the king.

Merlin smirked a little and held back a chuckled. "Oh nothing sire. I just always figured you did research like you did everything else... You know... by bashing your head against it until it works."

"Don't confuse my methods with yours, Merlin." A long silence followed. Merlin continued to stare at his king until the blond finally sighed and spoke. "My father did a lot of research into druid lore and literature- what little they had- to try to predict their moves. He feared they were plotting against him. It seems he came across something of import and looked into it."

Arthur was about to continue but Geoffrey suddenly reappeared, brandishing an old leather-bound volume. "Here it is." He stopped when he saw Merlin sitting at the desk. Merlin offered nothing but a wave and Geoffrey looked to Arthur as though asking permission. Arthur shrugged and took the book from him. Geoffrey pointed at it. "Our knowledge of the druidic language is limited, but hopefully this will help." Arthur nodded to him and the man shuffled off back to his desk.

As Arthur began to flip through the book, Merlin eyed him. "I thought you always believed that the druids were peaceful. Why are you looking into your father's research of their plots?"

"I do believe they are peaceful. I am looking into what my father was researching," answered Arthur. He flipped a few pages of the book and began scrawling something down on a separate piece of paper. Merlin raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, and what's that?" asked Merlin, craning his neck to try to see what Arthur had opened the book to.

"Emrys."

Merlin sat back on the stool and his voice caught in the back of his throat. The name sounded so foreign coming from Arthur's mouth; like it didn't belong there. Merlin's stomach erupted into butterflies, but he gulped down his fear and kept a straight face.

"What's an Emrys?" he asked stupidly.

Arthur seemed reluctant to answer but after a moment he sighed and said quietly, "It's a sorcerer."

Merlin's eyes widened. The only time the name ever came up was in relation to the druids. That Arthur had found enough to confirm that Emrys was not only a person, but also a sorcerer surprised him.

"You're researching a sorcerer?" he asked as though expecting it to be a joke.

Arthur gave a half-hearted shrug, his eyes once again glued to the parchments laid haphazardly about his work-area. Once again he seemed to feel Merlin's stare after a few moments and sighed, looking up at him. He released the scroll he had been translating and interlocked his fingers, leaning on his elbows. "It... has to do with something Morgana said the last time I saw her." Merlin cocked his head to one side. "She said, 'not even Emrys can save you.'"

"Why would you bother looking into something Morgana said?" Merlin asked, his mind going strangely numb as his emotions attempted to decipher how he should react to this news.

"I wouldn't have concerned myself with it... except immediately after that she attempted to use magic and couldn't." Merlin almost smacked himself. He had hoped the king wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, but it seemed the horse was destined to bite the servant instead. Arthur leaned back in his chair. "It made me think about a lot of things... Battle has always been the one thing I have understood above all else. And yet, over the past several years, there are... inconsistencies. Things that don't completely add up... like Morgana suddenly being unable to use her magic."

"Oh... and what does this have to do with a sorcerer?" he asked, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

"I asked Geoffrey if he had ever heard the name Emrys. He knew it was a druidic name and that my father had once gathered literature about the druids in search of something. Though there wasn't much literature or information to be had, he confirmed that Emrys was the name of a sorcerer in druidic stories and legends."

"Stories...? So he isn't real?" Merlin tried to keep the hope out of his voice, but he didn't think he did it very well.

Arthur shrugged. "Hard to say. Morgana spoke of him- or her- as though she had met him. And as far as I know, we don't have a way to block magical abilities." He stared at the desk, but his eyes were far away, as though he were trying to look right through the unorganized mess of parchment. "But the idea of a sorcerer that works against evil... it's hard to get my head around it."

There was an awkward silence that followed as Arthur continued his contemplation. Merlin could feel his heart begin to race as his mind finally made itself up and fear gripped him. He stood quickly, nearly knocking the stool off its legs and Arthur looked up with wide blue eyes. Merlin grabbed the small bit of parchment off the table and held it up.

"Well good luck with that. I should get Gaius' book," he gave a weak dopey grin and left. It did not escape Arthur's notice that the servant failed to collect any such book as he did.

"Idiot," he muttered.

Merlin burst out of the library, startling the two guards at the door. He didn't acknowledge them as he turned the corner into a large empty hallway. Once he was out of the guard's eye-line he leaned against the wall and resisted the urge to slide down to the floor.

Desperately his mind attempted to reason with him. There was no way that documentation existed that would lead an Emrys-seeker to him... was there? Not that Merlin knew a lot about druidic literature, but most information about the tribes were passed down by oral stories within them, as opposed to recording them on paper. He did know that. And only the druids seemed able to recognize him on sight, so he shouldn't have anything to worry about, right?

And yet Arthur's research seemed to inch the king ever closer to the wall Merlin had built around his secrets. He had long sought to keep the name Emrys from reaching the king's ears, but now that it had, was his wall about to be breached? The image of Arthur looking up from his work, betrayal and hate in his eyes, and pointing an accusing finger at him sent a fresh wave of butterflies into his stomach. But Agravaine and Morgana's attempt to find him had failed even though they had actively sought him out, so what chance had Arthur to succeed?

This thin line of reasoning did little to settle Merlin's nerves. After catching his breath Merlin pushed off the wall and began to trek back to the physician's quarters, a trek that started as a walk and eventually evolved into a full-out dash as his panic got the better of him.

Hope you enjoyed! See you later!