Fire.
Everywhere.
A great beast in the sky, fuelled only by anger.
Camelot, his home, burning to ashes.
Destruction.
Despair.
Death.
The Crystal of Neahtid was like ice in his hand while the prophetic images burned through his mind.
As Arthur's eyes pried themselves open, he realised very quickly that it wasn't yet time to get moving. The forest was still dark around him and there was no sign of daylight in the sky.
He shivered against the cold and wondered for a moment if that's what had woken him; the absence of the smoky haze in the air meant that the fire had long since extinguished itself. His limbs were stiff with weariness after the day's events and his shirt was feeling noticeably thin where he was now laying on the ground. He hadn't expected the raid of the druid camp to be such a carefully laid trap for them to walk into, but his knights were nothing if not an extremely skilled, highly adaptable team.
His father was going to be very pleased with him now that he was bringing Alvarr back to Camelot to pay for his theft of the crystal. Of course, he wouldn't have had to try so hard to please his father had he not been forced to cover for his incompetent manservant's novice mistake. It was such a simple responsibility; keep the prince's chambers locked at all times. Even an idiot could follow those instructions— well, most idiots, clearly.
Maybe that was why Merlin had been so off with him all day. He'd made a mistake and now he was moping because of it. Though Arthur could hardly be blamed for getting angry with him. The Crystal of Neahtid was extremely dangerous and if it had remained in the wrong hands, it would have had disastrous consequences for Camelot. Merlin had to understand that, and if Arthur needed to be a little harsh to get the point into his thick skull, then so be it.
Ordering him to stay awake all night to guard the crystal, may have been less of a tactical decision though and more of a punishment. Maybe he had been too unfair.
Arthur's eyes focused on the shadow of branches above him as he took a moment to consider whether or not to get up and relieve Merlin for a few hours. He didn't particularly want to deal with a cranky manservant for the second day in a row.
A faint noise carried on the breeze and his body froze suddenly in anticipation. If someone was about to attack their camp, they all needed to be alert. But if it was just an animal or the swaying of the trees, there was no point in waking his fellow knights. Squinted eyes flicked to the side as he tried to work out where the noise was coming from. It was an unfamiliar sound, he realised. A soft gasping almost like— crying? Surely not.
His men were the strongest warriors, braving dangerous creatures and the fiercest foes. Why would one of them be crying in the middle of the night; after a successful raid no less? He should check they were okay. They could be sick or injured from the fight. But then, no one had mentioned anything earlier and they all knew the importance of being honest with each other. An injured man could lead to the death of their entire group if kept a secret.
No, if they had chosen the cover of night to have a moment to themselves, then perhaps they were hoping for privacy.
And Arthur was nothing if not respectful.
…And just a tiny bit nosy.
He did his best to keep silent and still, as if the crying man was a baby deer on a hunt, easy to spook at any moment.
But the curious part of him wanted to know who it was. Maybe he could help.
He subtly glanced around from where he lay, his eyes doing their best to adjust to the dark, but everyone close by appeared to be asleep. So he turned onto his side, cursing the leaves beneath him for betraying his movement, but still the noise continued with no obvious sign of who it was coming from.
He slowly pushed himself to sitting, head turning to survey his men and their surroundings. The forest remained quiet around them and all of the knights slept soundly, aside from one lone figure still awake in the darkness.
Honestly, he had half expected to have to scold Merlin for disobeying his orders and leaving the crystal unguarded as he took a nap— but no, it looked like his servant was taking his duties seriously this time.
Arthur rubbed the sleep from his eyes, mouth widening into a yawn. The brief rush of adrenaline the mysterious noise had caused was already fading and he longed for nothing more than to lay his head back down and drift off for the precious extra hours his body had been promised. But first, he should probably find out what Merlin was snivelling about.
"Merlin?" Arthur muttered into the quiet, voice sticking to the back of his throat with sleep. There was no reply.
Turned towards the once smouldering wood pile, Merlin's face was hidden from view and through the darkness he showed no sign of having heard his name being spoken. Arthur forced himself to his feet and rubbed roughly at his eyes. Soft-footed, he crept around the log Merlin was perched on so he could talk to him face-to-face, expecting to find a moping manservant trying very hard to ignore him.
Instead, he was met with wide eyes reflecting the soft white glow of the crystal, small gasps being drawn from Merlin's lips as if the crystal was burning into his palms. The crystal he was supposed to be guarding, not gazing into!
Arthur was speechless. He had never seen it glow like that, never seen it activated like it was right now. Only the most powerful sorcerers were able to wield it, which meant…
Merlin let out a whimper, dislodging a tear that broke free and rolled down his cheek. His pupils were so wide his eyes looked completely black in the moonlight and he seemed entirely unaware of Arthur's presence.
…which meant, Alvarr must have activated it. He must have used his magic to enchant the crystal into inflicting pain on anyone who touched it.
Whatever it was doing to his curious, foolish, manservant needed to be stopped. He glanced around for something to use and spotted the cloth previously housing the crystal thrown haphazardly to the side. Without thinking, he used the cloth to yank the crystal from Merlin's grasp, pulling from him a final pained mewl as Merlin was freed from its hold.
Arthur wound the cloth tightly around the jewel and placed it gently out of the way, careful to leave no chance of either of them being infected by its power. He didn't know what it had just done to Merlin, but he didn't fancy experiencing it himself.
Merlin was watching him, terrified. He was near hyperventilating, eyes rapidly blinking away the remnants of what he had just seen, and Arthur's reassuring hand to his knee seemed to have the opposite effect as he let out a low keening sound that sent Arthur's hairs standing on end.
"Merlin—" Arthur started but was quickly interrupted as Merlin jumped up from where he was perched and ran on wobbly legs to the edge of their camp. Arthur could barely make out his outline but the offensive sound of him losing the meagre scraps they had caught for dinner told him all he needed to know.
What on earth had the crystal done?
Arthur slowly rose from the ground, knees groaning from where they had been pressed uncomfortably into the dirt. He stood for a moment, giving Merlin a moment of privacy to finish, but as soon as the noise stopped and he saw his servant stumble to the nearest tree for support, he closed the distance between them.
"Hey." He whispered, letting Merlin know of his presence more than anything else. He was sure that his normally jumpy servant would have flinched anyway if he'd had the strength to do so. Instead he made a pitiful noise somewhere between a groan and a whimper as his legs suddenly lost all strength.
Before his knees could buckle completely, Arthur grabbed Merlin to steady him and pulled one arm around his shoulders to keep him upright. A sprawled-on-the-floor servant would have been much more difficult to deal with. He led the way across the short distance back to the log and Merlin gratefully sat himself back down.
He stayed silent as Arthur crept over to his satchel to fetch his water skin. Merlin eyed it warily upon Arthur's return, but still took a reluctant sip – first to rinse the horrid taste from his mouth, then to drink. Arthur sat down next to him, eyeing him carefully as the silence persisted between them. The crystal remained amongst the leaves near their feet, wrapped carefully and out of view but still far too close for Arthur's liking. He was about to move it away, maybe back to his bag where he knew it would be hidden, when Merlin spoke.
"I'm sorry." He said. Quietly. The two words were so soft and stuttery, Arthur barely heard them leave his mouth. "I didn't mean—"
Merlin took a shuddery breath, hands wringing together as his eyes kept hold of the bundle of cloth at their feet, and a small part of Arthur itched even more to move it out of sight. Whatever it had done to Merlin, it could still be doing it—like some dark magic residue, clinging to the last person it touched.
If his father had taught him anything about magic, it was that it was wholly unpredictable and not a single part of it could be trusted. He may have been faced with several situations that almost convinced him otherwise, but every single time he was forced to watch as the people he cared about and the kingdom he had sworn to protect paid the price for his naivety.
He should have known that the crystal would be no different.
Arthur glanced over his shoulder to check if the commotion had awoken any of his men. Merlin may have been a drama queen at the best of times, but Arthur doubted he wanted an audience right now. Miraculously they all remained asleep.
"What happened?" He asked carefully. "What did it do?"
Merlin stiffened at his question, brows furrowing in confusion. "Do? I don't—"
"Did it hurt you?" Arthur asked next, then immediately scoffed at the stupid question.
Merlin rubbed his balled fists into his eyes, pushing hard as if that would scrub away whatever horrors he had just seen. "It was an accident."
"Yeah I know, I worked that much out for myself. Whatever Alvarr did to it…" Arthur trailed off, not really knowing enough about magic to finish the sentence.
Which just confused Merlin more.
"Alvarr?" He asked, peering over at their sleeping prisoner. Somehow it felt like they were having two different conversations, or maybe Merlin was just too tired to follow this one. Even in the near darkness, Arthur could make out his red-rimmed eyes and tired frown. His chest was still stuttering unevenly like he was moments away from bursting into tears – a spectacle Arthur would very much like to avoid.
This conversation could wait until morning, or at least until Merlin was no longer shaking from this latest ordeal.
"It's not near dawn yet. I can guard the crystal until then." He ordered, half pushing Merlin to his feet to avoid any protest but to his surprise Merlin said nothing, only offering a confused look as he stumbled to the spot that Arthur had recently vacated. He dropped down heavily, curling himself into a ball, arms wrapped around himself for warmth and quickly succumbed to the pull of sleep.
Which, Arthur realised, was a feeling that had abandoned him astonishingly quickly. It was funny how adrenaline could knock away all vestiges of tiredness. Which was a good thing because he was not letting the crystal out of his sight. He toed the bundle roughly in disgust and leaves rustled slightly with the movement.
The sooner it was locked away in the vaults of Camelot, the better it would be. For everyone.