Fic: The land of dreams (1/1)
Title: The land of dreams (1/1)
Author: dk323
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3,629
Characters/Pairings: Merlin/Arthur, Bran Davies, Will Stanton
Disclaimer: The show Merlin is property of the BBC. The Dark Is Rising book series is property of Susan Cooper.
Summary: Arthur thought everything would be fine as long as his father didn’t discover that Merlin was a sorcerer. He and Merlin could keep it a secret. But King Uther does find out and Arthur’s worst nightmare comes true. Because he can’t stand to see Merlin executed, Arthur engineers a rescue attempt to save his friend from a terrible fate.
The two of them make a run for it. The last thing Arthur expected was that they end up in someone’s dream. They get an offer that they can’t refuse.
Author’s Notes: So apparently this is me trying to do a happy one-shot. IDEK. ;)
~ * ~
“Arthur, I can’t - those bandits, there were too many. My magic--” Merlin said, breathing heavily. He looked too pale and about ready to collapse.
It had only been a few days since Arthur and Merlin had left Camelot on horseback. Both of them had tried to get as much distance as they could away from Camelot. Unfortunately, they were still subject to being besieged by rogue bandits as well as the prevailing threat of his father’s knights pursuing them.
King Uther never liked it when a sorcerer escaped prior to execution. Arthur felt grimly satisfied at defying his father. When Merlin’s life was at stake, Arthur knew well where his loyalties lay. And it wasn’t with the man who had condoned drowning children just for possessing magic (and the more horrific thought - what if those children hadn’t been honest-to-goodness magic users after all? What if they had died for nothing…their lives snuffed out before they could truly begin?).
“You’re not physically hurt, are you?” Arthur asked, concerned. He walked back to Merlin and he put his arm around him, supporting him.
Merlin shook his head. “No, no,” he was quick to reassure Arthur. “It was just a drain on my magic fighting them off… I just feel so tired and a little sick too.”
Merlin sat down on the ground, like it was too much effort to stand even with Arthur’s aid. Arthur sat down beside him. Merlin sighed in relief, resting his head on Arthur’s shoulder.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Arthur softly admonished. “I have my sword. I had a good handle on the situation.”
Merlin lifted his head and gave Arthur a wry look. “Well, with me, it certainly made the fight shorter. And admit it, Arthur, you’d be lost without me,” Merlin teased, grinning at him.
Arthur shot a look of affront at him. “That, Merlin, is what you think,” he denied, but he knew Merlin could see right through him.
“We should find shelter somewhere. It’s been almost a week. We haven’t encountered your father’s knights… maybe Lancelot, Gwaine and the others loyal to you have been successful at keeping them away from us. And I think it might rain soon,” Merlin declared.
Arthur looked at him, half-intrigued, half-amused. “Is predicting the weather another magical ability of yours?” he asked.
Merlin grinned. He pointed up to the sky. “No, just the look of the clouds,” he said with a shrug.
Arthur looked up at the sky. Yes, Merlin was right. Storm clouds were heading in their direction.
They collected their horses that were off drinking from a nearby stream.
“A cave most likely?” Arthur decided as they climbed their respective horses.
Arthur slowed his pace on his horse, more of a trot than a gallop as Merlin didn’t seem well enough to go any faster on his horse. After the unwanted ordeal with the bandits, the forest was left tranquil, peaceful. The calm atmosphere now was certainly a welcomed reprieve.
Merlin nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
Neither of them expected to find a pristine little cottage just outside of the forest. There was a beautiful valley ahead of the humble dwelling. Arthur had been this far outside of Camelot before. He was positive he had never encountered this cottage before.
The two of them got off their horses.
“Should we--?” Arthur ventured. Merlin could only nod.
So Arthur knocked on the door. No one answered after they waited a few moments. Arthur knocked once again, to make sure, but still, they heard no one moving about inside.
“Maybe the people who live here are away?” Merlin wondered.
Arthur shrugged. “Possibly. But the last time I was here, there was no cottage. It was just a grassy space with that valley up ahead. It’s like the cottage has appeared out of nowhere. I have no idea who lives here,” he admitted.
There wasn’t even any livestock - chicken, pigs, cattle, and sheep - outside of the cottage. No equipment for managing the land was present either.
Merlin opened the door. “We might as well stay here for a bit. There’s no clear sign anyone has lived here for some time. We shouldn’t be trespassing. Come on, Arthur,” he beckoned him.
The dwelling had a kitchen area with an untouched hearth. What surprised them the most was the presence of a bed that could fit two, maybe three grown people. Arthur recalled how in Merlin’s home at Ealdor, there had been one narrow bed, capable of fitting only one adult person. It was rather intriguing that this cottage had a bed closer to the size of Arthur’s own back in Camelot.
Without being asked, Merlin magically created a steady fire in the hearth to warm them both. He assured Arthur that the fire conjuring was a simple spell, and that despite his exhaustion; Merlin could at least handle that.
Upon seeing the big bed, Merlin couldn’t help saying, “Maybe someone has been expecting us,” he suggested cheekily, smiling at Arthur.
Arthur shook his head, raising his brow at him. He ushered Merlin to sit down on the bed when he looked about ready to faint.
“It feels nice,” Merlin remarked. He lay down on the bed, getting comfortable in the bed’s softness.
After removing Merlin’s boots as well as his own, Arthur lay down on the bed too. Merlin shifted over to make more room for Arthur.
Arthur kissed Merlin on the lips. “Thank you,” he said honestly, his voice solemn as he spoke.
“What for?” Merlin asked as Arthur left kisses down his neck all the way to his collarbone. Merlin just stopped himself from moaning from the welcome touches.
“For making me see sense. For being you,” Arthur murmured.
Merlin kissed him in return. Then he said, his tone hopeful, “We’ll return to Camelot one day. Things will be better. I still want you to be the king I know you can be,” he told him earnestly.
Arthur wanted to believe in Merlin’s conviction so much.
~ * ~
The next day, Arthur woke up early to find a dark wooden wardrobe just three feet away from the bed.
“What the…?” He wondered out loud.
Arthur was tempted to wake up Merlin to have him share in this bafflement at another oddity associated with this cottage. But he saw how peaceful Merlin was in his sleep. He knew this was what Merlin really needed to recover from the fight and just the stress of the last few days evading capture. Arthur felt bad to wake him up considering all that. He should leave him be for at least another hour or so.
With that decision made, Arthur investigated the wardrobe. The wardrobe was beautifully, almost lovingly carved and crafted. A carving of a lion was on the left side and a picture of a unicorn was on the right side.
There was a slick, gold handle on each door of the wardrobe. Curious, Arthur opened the door. Peering inside, he didn’t see anything but darkness. He didn’t feel anything inside the wardrobe either.
So it appeared that an empty wardrobe had inexplicably landed in their odd, little cottage.
Could their predicament get any stranger?
Merlin woke up almost an hour later. Arthur kissed him. “Good morning,” he said, overly cheerful.
Merlin rubbed his eyes and let out a big yawn. He smiled at Arthur, kissing him back. Then he noticed the wardrobe, and he proceeded to stare at it.
“Where did that wardrobe come from?” Merlin asked, looking questioningly at Arthur.
“I don’t know, Merlin. You’re the sorcerer here. Shouldn’t you know why the wardrobe’s here? Clearly it’s the work of magic,” Arthur deduced smartly.
Merlin gave him the eye. “Clearly,” he only said. “I’m hungry,” he announced.
“There aren’t many rations left,” Arthur informed him. “There’s some bread and berries in the kitchen. We’ll go hunting this afternoon.”
“We?” Merlin said incredulously.
Arthur nodded sagely. “Oh yes, Merlin. You can use your magic properly now to help me catch some prey.”
“Those poor rabbits,” Merlin said sadly.
Arthur just shook his head at Merlin’s attitude toward hunting. He ruffled his hair. “I won’t go after any unicorns if it makes you feel better,” he assured him.
~ * ~
They had a decent hunt, catching a handful of rabbits, and after lunch, the two of them explored the valley a bit.
They ate dinner outside, watching as the sun set against the valley. It was a breathtaking sight.
Merlin pondered aloud that maybe they were in some sort of otherworld now, like heaven. He could stay here forever he felt. Far from Camelot and the trouble that awaited them there.
Arthur had to agree with Merlin. He wouldn’t mind residing here for the foreseeable future. The last thing he wanted was to return to Camelot and have his father get his way and execute Merlin.
The image of Merlin burning on the pyre was something that Arthur couldn’t stand to see made reality. As long as he lived, he prayed never to witness that day.
~ * ~
“We should go inside the wardrobe,” Merlin suggested the next day.
Arthur gave him a look like he had gone mad. “Seriously, Merlin? What purpose will that serve? You saw that it was empty. There’s nothing more to it.”
Merlin shrugged. “If it magically appeared, then maybe there’s more magic to the wardrobe than we now believe. We just have to look at the wardrobe in a different light…” He advised Arthur.
Arthur could only shrug. Really, why spend time arguing? It may have been a somewhat odd request, but it’s not like they were debating whether to head into danger or not. Might as well just humour Merlin now.
They entered the wardrobe, Merlin first as it was his mad idea anyway, and they were both startled to discover that the back of the wardrobe had disappeared.
“I was right,” Merlin said to Arthur, smiling, self-gratified, at him.
Arthur couldn’t quite see Merlin’s face in the darkness of the wardrobe, but he could definitely hear the smugness in Merlin’s voice.
“Okay. I concede,” Arthur told him, defeated.
Then light started coming in from the newly made opening in the wardrobe. And it didn’t look like they were in the cottage anymore.
They both exited out of the new opening and found themselves in a huge, circled hall. Paintings of hills and valleys decorated the warm golden walls and a magnificent skylight was above them.
That’s where the light was coming from.
“We must be in a throne room,” Arthur confided in Merlin. He pointed ahead of him. Fifty feet in front of them, there were two men sitting in their respective thrones.
“Since we don’t know where we are, we should ask them. Hopefully this isn’t a trap for us,” Merlin said nervously.
“If this is a trap, it’s certainly a creative one,” Arthur said thoughtfully, but he kept his hand on the sword at his hip all the same.
Once they reached the thrones, the two men both looked at them expectantly. That wasn’t weird at all, Arthur thought drily. Well at least they weren’t intruding if they were being expected to come here. Both men looked closer to Merlin’s age or maybe even a little younger. Twenty, maybe?
The man at the right was rather average-looking with brown hair and blue-grey eyes. He was a bit tall, as tall as Merlin at least, and he had a lean build, but not as lean as Merlin. The only noteworthy thing that Arthur noticed of the man was the feeling of knowledge behind the man’s blue-grey eyes. That he knew more than Arthur knew or could ever know despite Arthur being older than him. He was donned in a blue shirt and dark pants.
The other man had a striking appearance, almost alarming, as if to make up for the other man’s plainness.
The man appeared to be drained of all colour. His skin wasn’t pale, it was just very white. Arthur couldn’t help but be drawn to his odd tawny golden eyes, which eclipsed his near invisible eyelashes as they were too white to see. He had a leaner frame than the other man, and he looked a little shorter than him too. He was wearing a dark green woolen shirt and grey trousers.
“Are your eyes always that colour? Golden?” Merlin asked out loud suddenly.
Arthur knew how Merlin’s eyes turned golden when he performed magic. It was undoubtedly intriguing to see a man who wasn’t doing magic to have such an eye colour.
The golden-eyed man flashed Merlin a grin. “I suppose I should’ve put on my glasses, don’t you think, Will?” The man asked of the other man. The too pale man spoke in a different accent - Welsh? He must be from the Kingdom of Gwynedd.
“It’s your choice in the end,” The man said with a shrug. “The light though…” he intimated to him.
The man squinted up at the skylight. “Yes,” he said, and he put on dark-tinted glasses, shielding his eyes from view and from the light.
“My eyes are always this colour,” The man answered Merlin. “And unfortunately that leaves them sensitive to light. I always carry dark glasses with me because of that. I’m Bran, by the way. Bran Davies. This is my friend, Will Stanton,” he told them, nodding at Will.
“Where are we exactly?” Arthur wanted to know. “We entered through a wardrobe,” He explained.
“The two of you are in my dream. I’m king here while Will is my dewin - that’s Welsh for wizard… and we know who you are. Arthur Pendragon and Merlin, some call you, ‘Emrys’, don’t they?” Bran asked him.
“Yes, they do. I don’t know why we’re here though. And how can we be in your dream?” Merlin wondered, confused.
But what Arthur was more concerned with was the lack of something. He asked Bran, “If you’re a king, why aren’t you wearing a crown?”
“I had the wardrobe appear where you two were residing. I had hoped you would enter through it,” Will answered Merlin. “The wardrobe is the entrance to Bran’s dream, which you are in now.”
“And wearing a crown is a bit pretentious, I think,” Bran pointed out.
“No, it isn’t,” Arthur argued.
“Bran’s not truly a king in the way you see the world, Arthur Pendragon,” Will interjected before Arthur could really get into it with Bran.
“If you like your shiny golden crowns, then you wear them. I have nothing against that,” Bran acknowledged, though he smiled in amusement.
Merlin settled his hand on Arthur’s shoulder to calm him down. “Just leave it alone, Arthur,” he told him firmly.
While still a little irritated, Arthur calmed down as best as he could -- at least so that Merlin would stop looking at him as if he were a child who had done something naughty.
“Why do you want us here? What do you want from us?” Merlin inquired of them.
Bran looked almost giddy and excited, which made Arthur a little nervous. He half-wished that this dream - he wasn’t sure whether to believe that, but he had nothing else to go off of, so dream it was - was Will’s dream instead of Bran’s. Will seemed like a calmer, steadier sort of person while Bran appeared to be more intense, arrogant almost.
Who knew what Bran would decide to put in this dream of his? Arthur doubted it would be something ordinary and almost blessedly mundane going by Bran’s strange appearance.
“We have a quest for the both of you to undertake,” Bran explained. “To seek and find the golden harp. I would very much like to have it as it’s the best harp in the world.”
Arthur stared at him incredulously while Merlin whispered to Arthur with the jibe, “Hey, remember your quest for the Fisher King’s trident?” He reminded Arthur.
Arthur glared at him, unwilling to admit that he once did go on a quest for an object of questionable importance. “Shut up, Merlin.”
“As a reward for finding the golden harp for Bran,” Will continued, “We will return the two of you back in time a bit before King Uther discovered Merlin’s magic. You won’t be in danger anymore from execution. Now that you know the dangers of what could happen, I hope that you will be extra vigilant about keeping your magic secret, Merlin. At least until Arthur is King. Best to not let the same thing happen twice,” he advised.
Merlin nodded. “Yes, of course, I’ll do my best. Can you really do that? You have that power?” He asked.
Will smiled. “I do. Trust me. We are not trying to lead you astray. We only want to help the both of you. So that you don’t spend months, maybe even years, away from Camelot, waiting for King Uther’s death.”
Looking at Will’s calm demeanor, Arthur could not help but believe the man was truly trying to aid them and didn’t have ulterior motives to trick them.
And despite Bran’s intensity, he seemed like he could be trusted as well. Maybe he was so used to standing out with his unusual appearance that he reveled in having a strong personality to match?
At the very least, there was the security that Will was there to keep him from going too far…
“Should we do this quest?” Arthur whispered into Merlin’s ear.
“It’s a chance we may never get again. We should do it. Then we don’t have to stay in exile,” Merlin whispered back to him.
Arthur nodded. How could he disagree with that?
Arthur turned to face the other two men. “We accept the quest of the golden harp,” Arthur declared, his tone serious, while inside, he was thinking, ‘I can’t believe I’m doing this. I must be going mad.’
Bran grinned. “I hoped you would. First, you need to do two things before you and Merlin truly begin your quest.”
“All right,” Arthur accepted.
“First, you have three tries to guess who I am - not what my name is as you know that already - but who I am in accordance to the bigger picture.”
“…what?” Arthur asked, feeling like his mind had grown fuzzy.
“Everyone has a mother and father,” Will told him.
“So if I know your name, Bran…I have to guess who you are in another way by thinking who your mother and father could be? Like whose bloodline you’re a part of?” Arthur figured.
“Yes, that’s right. But these three guesses are yours to do alone, Arthur. Merlin can’t help you. I have a feeling he’ll unravel it quicker, but I don’t doubt your cleverness,” Bran said, lips twisting into a smile.
“You’re not going to give me any more clues?” Arthur ventured.
“You have three tries. That should be enough. We will give you time to think about it,” Bran informed him.
Meanwhile, Merlin was smiling like he was beginning to realize something.
Arthur groaned. “You figured it out already?” He asked Merlin in aggravated disbelief.
“Not quite, but I trust you’ll get it soon,” he told Arthur. “I have confidence in you.”
“If you’re close in one of your guesses, we will give you hints then,” Will assured Arthur.
“After you guess who I am, you must find the crystal sword, which is in this castle somewhere,” Bran said, waving his hand. Arthur hoped this castle wasn’t full of puzzling mazes or the like that would make finding the sword a difficult affair. “You will use it on your quest.”
“But I have a sword already,” Arthur said wearily.
Bran sounded arrogant, prideful as he spoke of the sword. “The crystal sword is much better than your sword. You could give the one you have now to Merlin, if you like,” Bran suggested. “He can use both his magic and a sword to aid you on your quest.”
“Right, so after gaining the sword, then what? We can start the quest?” Arthur asked.
“Yes. As a reward for gaining the crystal sword, we will give you the map that will guide you and Merlin to the location of the golden harp,” Bran said to him.
Arthur thought that, all in all, that didn’t sound too bad. He couldn’t deny he was a bit excited to go on a quest. It was in his blood, to brave danger in order to gain a prize. It was like going on a hunt, but more thrilling.
And Merlin was sure to appreciate that unlike a hunt, the goal wasn’t to kill ‘poor, cute little’ rabbits.
Bran told them where their room was. He made a point in mentioning that their bedroom had one big bed.
Clearly if they had any hope of hiding their closeness here, it would be in vain, Arthur thought.
There would be food and a change of clothes in their room as well.
As Arthur and Merlin walked out of the rounded room, Arthur wondered how in the world Merlin was close to guessing Bran’s identity this early on.
“Can you at least give me a clue?” Arthur asked of Merlin when they had exited the throne room and were in a long, seemingly endless bright hallway.
Merlin smiled cheerfully at him. “I can’t help you on this one, Arthur. Those are the rules. Just remember what Will and Bran said. You’ll get it. They wouldn’t give you this task if you couldn’t do it,” Merlin said reasonably.
He kissed Arthur on the lips in a gesture of comfort. Arthur deepened the kiss, moving forward so that Merlin was backed up against a wall.
“I think I’ll do you first,” Arthur breathed into his ear.
Merlin smiled. “That’s the spirit.”
~ * ~
Of course they succeeded in their quest…and for anyone who isn’t familiar with ‘The Dark Is Rising” series, Bran is the son of King Arthur and Guinevere (in this case from an alternate reality). Arthur may not be able to guess it perfectly, so that’s why I put in the thing that he could receive a hint if he doesn’t get the alternate reality bit.
Also, the golden harp and crystal sword (also called Eirias, it's the equivalent to Excalibur) are from The Dark Is Rising series. Bran is known as a rather good harp player in the series, so if this is his dream...of course he'd want to get the best harp in existence. Bran's mother, Guinevere, was supposed to be a very talented harp player and that's one talent Bran inherited from her.
Author: dk323
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3,629
Characters/Pairings: Merlin/Arthur, Bran Davies, Will Stanton
Disclaimer: The show Merlin is property of the BBC. The Dark Is Rising book series is property of Susan Cooper.
Summary: Arthur thought everything would be fine as long as his father didn’t discover that Merlin was a sorcerer. He and Merlin could keep it a secret. But King Uther does find out and Arthur’s worst nightmare comes true. Because he can’t stand to see Merlin executed, Arthur engineers a rescue attempt to save his friend from a terrible fate.
The two of them make a run for it. The last thing Arthur expected was that they end up in someone’s dream. They get an offer that they can’t refuse.
Author’s Notes: So apparently this is me trying to do a happy one-shot. IDEK. ;)
~ * ~
“Arthur, I can’t - those bandits, there were too many. My magic--” Merlin said, breathing heavily. He looked too pale and about ready to collapse.
It had only been a few days since Arthur and Merlin had left Camelot on horseback. Both of them had tried to get as much distance as they could away from Camelot. Unfortunately, they were still subject to being besieged by rogue bandits as well as the prevailing threat of his father’s knights pursuing them.
King Uther never liked it when a sorcerer escaped prior to execution. Arthur felt grimly satisfied at defying his father. When Merlin’s life was at stake, Arthur knew well where his loyalties lay. And it wasn’t with the man who had condoned drowning children just for possessing magic (and the more horrific thought - what if those children hadn’t been honest-to-goodness magic users after all? What if they had died for nothing…their lives snuffed out before they could truly begin?).
“You’re not physically hurt, are you?” Arthur asked, concerned. He walked back to Merlin and he put his arm around him, supporting him.
Merlin shook his head. “No, no,” he was quick to reassure Arthur. “It was just a drain on my magic fighting them off… I just feel so tired and a little sick too.”
Merlin sat down on the ground, like it was too much effort to stand even with Arthur’s aid. Arthur sat down beside him. Merlin sighed in relief, resting his head on Arthur’s shoulder.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Arthur softly admonished. “I have my sword. I had a good handle on the situation.”
Merlin lifted his head and gave Arthur a wry look. “Well, with me, it certainly made the fight shorter. And admit it, Arthur, you’d be lost without me,” Merlin teased, grinning at him.
Arthur shot a look of affront at him. “That, Merlin, is what you think,” he denied, but he knew Merlin could see right through him.
“We should find shelter somewhere. It’s been almost a week. We haven’t encountered your father’s knights… maybe Lancelot, Gwaine and the others loyal to you have been successful at keeping them away from us. And I think it might rain soon,” Merlin declared.
Arthur looked at him, half-intrigued, half-amused. “Is predicting the weather another magical ability of yours?” he asked.
Merlin grinned. He pointed up to the sky. “No, just the look of the clouds,” he said with a shrug.
Arthur looked up at the sky. Yes, Merlin was right. Storm clouds were heading in their direction.
They collected their horses that were off drinking from a nearby stream.
“A cave most likely?” Arthur decided as they climbed their respective horses.
Arthur slowed his pace on his horse, more of a trot than a gallop as Merlin didn’t seem well enough to go any faster on his horse. After the unwanted ordeal with the bandits, the forest was left tranquil, peaceful. The calm atmosphere now was certainly a welcomed reprieve.
Merlin nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
Neither of them expected to find a pristine little cottage just outside of the forest. There was a beautiful valley ahead of the humble dwelling. Arthur had been this far outside of Camelot before. He was positive he had never encountered this cottage before.
The two of them got off their horses.
“Should we--?” Arthur ventured. Merlin could only nod.
So Arthur knocked on the door. No one answered after they waited a few moments. Arthur knocked once again, to make sure, but still, they heard no one moving about inside.
“Maybe the people who live here are away?” Merlin wondered.
Arthur shrugged. “Possibly. But the last time I was here, there was no cottage. It was just a grassy space with that valley up ahead. It’s like the cottage has appeared out of nowhere. I have no idea who lives here,” he admitted.
There wasn’t even any livestock - chicken, pigs, cattle, and sheep - outside of the cottage. No equipment for managing the land was present either.
Merlin opened the door. “We might as well stay here for a bit. There’s no clear sign anyone has lived here for some time. We shouldn’t be trespassing. Come on, Arthur,” he beckoned him.
The dwelling had a kitchen area with an untouched hearth. What surprised them the most was the presence of a bed that could fit two, maybe three grown people. Arthur recalled how in Merlin’s home at Ealdor, there had been one narrow bed, capable of fitting only one adult person. It was rather intriguing that this cottage had a bed closer to the size of Arthur’s own back in Camelot.
Without being asked, Merlin magically created a steady fire in the hearth to warm them both. He assured Arthur that the fire conjuring was a simple spell, and that despite his exhaustion; Merlin could at least handle that.
Upon seeing the big bed, Merlin couldn’t help saying, “Maybe someone has been expecting us,” he suggested cheekily, smiling at Arthur.
Arthur shook his head, raising his brow at him. He ushered Merlin to sit down on the bed when he looked about ready to faint.
“It feels nice,” Merlin remarked. He lay down on the bed, getting comfortable in the bed’s softness.
After removing Merlin’s boots as well as his own, Arthur lay down on the bed too. Merlin shifted over to make more room for Arthur.
Arthur kissed Merlin on the lips. “Thank you,” he said honestly, his voice solemn as he spoke.
“What for?” Merlin asked as Arthur left kisses down his neck all the way to his collarbone. Merlin just stopped himself from moaning from the welcome touches.
“For making me see sense. For being you,” Arthur murmured.
Merlin kissed him in return. Then he said, his tone hopeful, “We’ll return to Camelot one day. Things will be better. I still want you to be the king I know you can be,” he told him earnestly.
Arthur wanted to believe in Merlin’s conviction so much.
~ * ~
The next day, Arthur woke up early to find a dark wooden wardrobe just three feet away from the bed.
“What the…?” He wondered out loud.
Arthur was tempted to wake up Merlin to have him share in this bafflement at another oddity associated with this cottage. But he saw how peaceful Merlin was in his sleep. He knew this was what Merlin really needed to recover from the fight and just the stress of the last few days evading capture. Arthur felt bad to wake him up considering all that. He should leave him be for at least another hour or so.
With that decision made, Arthur investigated the wardrobe. The wardrobe was beautifully, almost lovingly carved and crafted. A carving of a lion was on the left side and a picture of a unicorn was on the right side.
There was a slick, gold handle on each door of the wardrobe. Curious, Arthur opened the door. Peering inside, he didn’t see anything but darkness. He didn’t feel anything inside the wardrobe either.
So it appeared that an empty wardrobe had inexplicably landed in their odd, little cottage.
Could their predicament get any stranger?
Merlin woke up almost an hour later. Arthur kissed him. “Good morning,” he said, overly cheerful.
Merlin rubbed his eyes and let out a big yawn. He smiled at Arthur, kissing him back. Then he noticed the wardrobe, and he proceeded to stare at it.
“Where did that wardrobe come from?” Merlin asked, looking questioningly at Arthur.
“I don’t know, Merlin. You’re the sorcerer here. Shouldn’t you know why the wardrobe’s here? Clearly it’s the work of magic,” Arthur deduced smartly.
Merlin gave him the eye. “Clearly,” he only said. “I’m hungry,” he announced.
“There aren’t many rations left,” Arthur informed him. “There’s some bread and berries in the kitchen. We’ll go hunting this afternoon.”
“We?” Merlin said incredulously.
Arthur nodded sagely. “Oh yes, Merlin. You can use your magic properly now to help me catch some prey.”
“Those poor rabbits,” Merlin said sadly.
Arthur just shook his head at Merlin’s attitude toward hunting. He ruffled his hair. “I won’t go after any unicorns if it makes you feel better,” he assured him.
~ * ~
They had a decent hunt, catching a handful of rabbits, and after lunch, the two of them explored the valley a bit.
They ate dinner outside, watching as the sun set against the valley. It was a breathtaking sight.
Merlin pondered aloud that maybe they were in some sort of otherworld now, like heaven. He could stay here forever he felt. Far from Camelot and the trouble that awaited them there.
Arthur had to agree with Merlin. He wouldn’t mind residing here for the foreseeable future. The last thing he wanted was to return to Camelot and have his father get his way and execute Merlin.
The image of Merlin burning on the pyre was something that Arthur couldn’t stand to see made reality. As long as he lived, he prayed never to witness that day.
~ * ~
“We should go inside the wardrobe,” Merlin suggested the next day.
Arthur gave him a look like he had gone mad. “Seriously, Merlin? What purpose will that serve? You saw that it was empty. There’s nothing more to it.”
Merlin shrugged. “If it magically appeared, then maybe there’s more magic to the wardrobe than we now believe. We just have to look at the wardrobe in a different light…” He advised Arthur.
Arthur could only shrug. Really, why spend time arguing? It may have been a somewhat odd request, but it’s not like they were debating whether to head into danger or not. Might as well just humour Merlin now.
They entered the wardrobe, Merlin first as it was his mad idea anyway, and they were both startled to discover that the back of the wardrobe had disappeared.
“I was right,” Merlin said to Arthur, smiling, self-gratified, at him.
Arthur couldn’t quite see Merlin’s face in the darkness of the wardrobe, but he could definitely hear the smugness in Merlin’s voice.
“Okay. I concede,” Arthur told him, defeated.
Then light started coming in from the newly made opening in the wardrobe. And it didn’t look like they were in the cottage anymore.
They both exited out of the new opening and found themselves in a huge, circled hall. Paintings of hills and valleys decorated the warm golden walls and a magnificent skylight was above them.
That’s where the light was coming from.
“We must be in a throne room,” Arthur confided in Merlin. He pointed ahead of him. Fifty feet in front of them, there were two men sitting in their respective thrones.
“Since we don’t know where we are, we should ask them. Hopefully this isn’t a trap for us,” Merlin said nervously.
“If this is a trap, it’s certainly a creative one,” Arthur said thoughtfully, but he kept his hand on the sword at his hip all the same.
Once they reached the thrones, the two men both looked at them expectantly. That wasn’t weird at all, Arthur thought drily. Well at least they weren’t intruding if they were being expected to come here. Both men looked closer to Merlin’s age or maybe even a little younger. Twenty, maybe?
The man at the right was rather average-looking with brown hair and blue-grey eyes. He was a bit tall, as tall as Merlin at least, and he had a lean build, but not as lean as Merlin. The only noteworthy thing that Arthur noticed of the man was the feeling of knowledge behind the man’s blue-grey eyes. That he knew more than Arthur knew or could ever know despite Arthur being older than him. He was donned in a blue shirt and dark pants.
The other man had a striking appearance, almost alarming, as if to make up for the other man’s plainness.
The man appeared to be drained of all colour. His skin wasn’t pale, it was just very white. Arthur couldn’t help but be drawn to his odd tawny golden eyes, which eclipsed his near invisible eyelashes as they were too white to see. He had a leaner frame than the other man, and he looked a little shorter than him too. He was wearing a dark green woolen shirt and grey trousers.
“Are your eyes always that colour? Golden?” Merlin asked out loud suddenly.
Arthur knew how Merlin’s eyes turned golden when he performed magic. It was undoubtedly intriguing to see a man who wasn’t doing magic to have such an eye colour.
The golden-eyed man flashed Merlin a grin. “I suppose I should’ve put on my glasses, don’t you think, Will?” The man asked of the other man. The too pale man spoke in a different accent - Welsh? He must be from the Kingdom of Gwynedd.
“It’s your choice in the end,” The man said with a shrug. “The light though…” he intimated to him.
The man squinted up at the skylight. “Yes,” he said, and he put on dark-tinted glasses, shielding his eyes from view and from the light.
“My eyes are always this colour,” The man answered Merlin. “And unfortunately that leaves them sensitive to light. I always carry dark glasses with me because of that. I’m Bran, by the way. Bran Davies. This is my friend, Will Stanton,” he told them, nodding at Will.
“Where are we exactly?” Arthur wanted to know. “We entered through a wardrobe,” He explained.
“The two of you are in my dream. I’m king here while Will is my dewin - that’s Welsh for wizard… and we know who you are. Arthur Pendragon and Merlin, some call you, ‘Emrys’, don’t they?” Bran asked him.
“Yes, they do. I don’t know why we’re here though. And how can we be in your dream?” Merlin wondered, confused.
But what Arthur was more concerned with was the lack of something. He asked Bran, “If you’re a king, why aren’t you wearing a crown?”
“I had the wardrobe appear where you two were residing. I had hoped you would enter through it,” Will answered Merlin. “The wardrobe is the entrance to Bran’s dream, which you are in now.”
“And wearing a crown is a bit pretentious, I think,” Bran pointed out.
“No, it isn’t,” Arthur argued.
“Bran’s not truly a king in the way you see the world, Arthur Pendragon,” Will interjected before Arthur could really get into it with Bran.
“If you like your shiny golden crowns, then you wear them. I have nothing against that,” Bran acknowledged, though he smiled in amusement.
Merlin settled his hand on Arthur’s shoulder to calm him down. “Just leave it alone, Arthur,” he told him firmly.
While still a little irritated, Arthur calmed down as best as he could -- at least so that Merlin would stop looking at him as if he were a child who had done something naughty.
“Why do you want us here? What do you want from us?” Merlin inquired of them.
Bran looked almost giddy and excited, which made Arthur a little nervous. He half-wished that this dream - he wasn’t sure whether to believe that, but he had nothing else to go off of, so dream it was - was Will’s dream instead of Bran’s. Will seemed like a calmer, steadier sort of person while Bran appeared to be more intense, arrogant almost.
Who knew what Bran would decide to put in this dream of his? Arthur doubted it would be something ordinary and almost blessedly mundane going by Bran’s strange appearance.
“We have a quest for the both of you to undertake,” Bran explained. “To seek and find the golden harp. I would very much like to have it as it’s the best harp in the world.”
Arthur stared at him incredulously while Merlin whispered to Arthur with the jibe, “Hey, remember your quest for the Fisher King’s trident?” He reminded Arthur.
Arthur glared at him, unwilling to admit that he once did go on a quest for an object of questionable importance. “Shut up, Merlin.”
“As a reward for finding the golden harp for Bran,” Will continued, “We will return the two of you back in time a bit before King Uther discovered Merlin’s magic. You won’t be in danger anymore from execution. Now that you know the dangers of what could happen, I hope that you will be extra vigilant about keeping your magic secret, Merlin. At least until Arthur is King. Best to not let the same thing happen twice,” he advised.
Merlin nodded. “Yes, of course, I’ll do my best. Can you really do that? You have that power?” He asked.
Will smiled. “I do. Trust me. We are not trying to lead you astray. We only want to help the both of you. So that you don’t spend months, maybe even years, away from Camelot, waiting for King Uther’s death.”
Looking at Will’s calm demeanor, Arthur could not help but believe the man was truly trying to aid them and didn’t have ulterior motives to trick them.
And despite Bran’s intensity, he seemed like he could be trusted as well. Maybe he was so used to standing out with his unusual appearance that he reveled in having a strong personality to match?
At the very least, there was the security that Will was there to keep him from going too far…
“Should we do this quest?” Arthur whispered into Merlin’s ear.
“It’s a chance we may never get again. We should do it. Then we don’t have to stay in exile,” Merlin whispered back to him.
Arthur nodded. How could he disagree with that?
Arthur turned to face the other two men. “We accept the quest of the golden harp,” Arthur declared, his tone serious, while inside, he was thinking, ‘I can’t believe I’m doing this. I must be going mad.’
Bran grinned. “I hoped you would. First, you need to do two things before you and Merlin truly begin your quest.”
“All right,” Arthur accepted.
“First, you have three tries to guess who I am - not what my name is as you know that already - but who I am in accordance to the bigger picture.”
“…what?” Arthur asked, feeling like his mind had grown fuzzy.
“Everyone has a mother and father,” Will told him.
“So if I know your name, Bran…I have to guess who you are in another way by thinking who your mother and father could be? Like whose bloodline you’re a part of?” Arthur figured.
“Yes, that’s right. But these three guesses are yours to do alone, Arthur. Merlin can’t help you. I have a feeling he’ll unravel it quicker, but I don’t doubt your cleverness,” Bran said, lips twisting into a smile.
“You’re not going to give me any more clues?” Arthur ventured.
“You have three tries. That should be enough. We will give you time to think about it,” Bran informed him.
Meanwhile, Merlin was smiling like he was beginning to realize something.
Arthur groaned. “You figured it out already?” He asked Merlin in aggravated disbelief.
“Not quite, but I trust you’ll get it soon,” he told Arthur. “I have confidence in you.”
“If you’re close in one of your guesses, we will give you hints then,” Will assured Arthur.
“After you guess who I am, you must find the crystal sword, which is in this castle somewhere,” Bran said, waving his hand. Arthur hoped this castle wasn’t full of puzzling mazes or the like that would make finding the sword a difficult affair. “You will use it on your quest.”
“But I have a sword already,” Arthur said wearily.
Bran sounded arrogant, prideful as he spoke of the sword. “The crystal sword is much better than your sword. You could give the one you have now to Merlin, if you like,” Bran suggested. “He can use both his magic and a sword to aid you on your quest.”
“Right, so after gaining the sword, then what? We can start the quest?” Arthur asked.
“Yes. As a reward for gaining the crystal sword, we will give you the map that will guide you and Merlin to the location of the golden harp,” Bran said to him.
Arthur thought that, all in all, that didn’t sound too bad. He couldn’t deny he was a bit excited to go on a quest. It was in his blood, to brave danger in order to gain a prize. It was like going on a hunt, but more thrilling.
And Merlin was sure to appreciate that unlike a hunt, the goal wasn’t to kill ‘poor, cute little’ rabbits.
Bran told them where their room was. He made a point in mentioning that their bedroom had one big bed.
Clearly if they had any hope of hiding their closeness here, it would be in vain, Arthur thought.
There would be food and a change of clothes in their room as well.
As Arthur and Merlin walked out of the rounded room, Arthur wondered how in the world Merlin was close to guessing Bran’s identity this early on.
“Can you at least give me a clue?” Arthur asked of Merlin when they had exited the throne room and were in a long, seemingly endless bright hallway.
Merlin smiled cheerfully at him. “I can’t help you on this one, Arthur. Those are the rules. Just remember what Will and Bran said. You’ll get it. They wouldn’t give you this task if you couldn’t do it,” Merlin said reasonably.
He kissed Arthur on the lips in a gesture of comfort. Arthur deepened the kiss, moving forward so that Merlin was backed up against a wall.
“I think I’ll do you first,” Arthur breathed into his ear.
Merlin smiled. “That’s the spirit.”
~ * ~
Of course they succeeded in their quest…and for anyone who isn’t familiar with ‘The Dark Is Rising” series, Bran is the son of King Arthur and Guinevere (in this case from an alternate reality). Arthur may not be able to guess it perfectly, so that’s why I put in the thing that he could receive a hint if he doesn’t get the alternate reality bit.
Also, the golden harp and crystal sword (also called Eirias, it's the equivalent to Excalibur) are from The Dark Is Rising series. Bran is known as a rather good harp player in the series, so if this is his dream...of course he'd want to get the best harp in existence. Bran's mother, Guinevere, was supposed to be a very talented harp player and that's one talent Bran inherited from her.