More saga!
Title: Death, Love and Everything In Between [3/7]
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: MerlinxArthur
Length: This part is 2,000 words. Overall, it's about 13,000 words, chapter average 1,800.
Rating: PG-13.
Status: Complete. Beta’d by princessezzy and fortassetu who also made my banner! ♥
Notes: In each part I've done some research to make sure I know what I'm talking about. If you read something and go ‘hang on a sec...’ check if I've done the research first; if not, please let me know. :) I know the producers of the show don't bother, but that's no reason for me not to.
Back To The Start
Last Chapter
A Note on the MAFAs
I got a nomination! I’m so happy that someone thinks it’s worthy. What I want to say is that’s just the view of one person, so I’m not going to pander for votes. Vote for whatever you think deserves to win, and please don’t just vote for nothing. If you’re interested, I also got a nomination for Recklessness (best Action/Adventure).
Research for this chapter.
The death rune mentioned, in my mind, looks something like the Todesrune. Similarly I mention a forest that comes to life; whilst I don’t have a specific source for this (I did a dabble of research) they were pretty common folklore in northern Europe, shown in Tolkien’s use (both in the Fellowship of the Ring and the Two Towers).
Chapter III The problem with foreign territory, Merlin decided, was it was very much like normal territory. It was remarkably easy to get confused. One moment you’re under Uther’s jurisdiction, the next you’re free… or as free as you can be with twelve barbarian lords poised to come down on you at any moment. Belvedere remained quite chipper about the whole experience.
They continued along the southern border for some time, trotting amiably along. What fascinated Merlin most was the simple way the animals plodded through borders, irrespective of whose side they took nuts from. Treaties and agreements meant nothing to them. Just survival.
The idea both fascinated and repelled him.
“God, this is dreary,” Merlin muttered under his breath as Belvedere stopped to get his bearings. “How do you cope with it?”
The men tell stories, or sing to each other, normally. A pause. For the love of all that’s holy, please don’t start singing.
“I’ve got a lovely singing voice, thank you,” Merlin muttered, affronted.
Is that what your mother told you?
Merlin ignored him.
“Right, we should make it to our first town in a couple of hours’ ride. We’ll stop for some food then set off again.” Belvedere swung back on his horse and kicked her off merrily, and Merlin jangled off behind.
“I’m getting quite good at this riding lark,” he grinned, half to himself.
I don’t trust him.
Merlin raised an eyebrow. “Belvedere?”
He just turned up out of nowhere and said he was with Morgana. For all you know, he’s from my father, spying on you. Or worse, if this story about the sorcerer is to be believed.
“He’s got a twin called Fred,” Merlin said absently, as if this was supposed to help the situation.
There was a long pause. There are times when even I worry for you, Merlin.
“Remember. We don’t know who’s in charge of the village at the moment; the politics around here are constantly changing. So no mentions of where we’re from, where we’re going. In fact, you’d better not talk at all.”
Merlin nodded. “Right.” He was used to shutting up.
You’re never this well-behaved for me.
“You never ask this nicely.”
“It’s just through this clea…”
They stepped through and Merlin promptly threw up.
Belvedere was used to the stench of battle. He was a soldier. Even Merlin had encountered dead bodies before; working with a physician held that danger. He had not, however, come across this guttural, awful smell before, burning and twining, singed flesh smell. Rotting. The bodies were strewn across the landscape, often no more than lumps of charred flesh and bone. The huts, once proud against the landscape, were now no more than firewood. Fantasies of Merlin’s own home burnt like this filled his mind and the nausea rose again.
Worst of all, the place stank of dark magic.
“We should go,” Belvedere whispered. “We should go.” He kicked his horse into life and she charged off, and Merlin’s followed suit with a strong whinny and stronger hind legs. Air whipped from his mouth before he could possibly reply, Merlin could do nothing but hang on until they came across a small stream, where Belvedere paused his panting horse, her eyes lolling, to take a drink. He dismounted and sat by the stream where Belvedere splashed his face, shaking.
“We could have - ”
“Helped? No. There was no one left to help, Merlin. Besides, with magic as powerful as that you don’t stay around long in case the sorcerer returns.”
Merlin pretended to look nonplussed. “Magic?”
Belvedere looked at him as if he was an idiot. “Didn’t you see the rune on the tree? Don’t you know what that means?” Merlin hadn’t needed to. He could smell the magic. He still found the decency to look apologetic, and shrugged. “It was a death rune, Merlin,” Belvedere said quietly. “Nobody survives magic like that.”
He sighed and readjusted his saddle bags, Merlin checking the tent’s fastenings. “Isn’t there a leader? A king? Someone we could ask for help?”
Belvedere shook his head. “These lands are lawless. We should set off. We need to get as far away as possible by nightfall.”
“Have you ever seen anything like this before?” he whispered to Arthur as Belvedere busied himself with getting back on his horse.
Not this powerful. Nothing near this powerful. Then again, I haven’t been this far from Camelot for a long while either. Belvedere’s right, though. There’s no one out here to save you but yourself.
“And you,” Merlin added quickly, but Arthur was silent again.
Belvedere was carving symbols into the trees around their camp as Merlin set up the tent that evening. His job was a lot briefer, so he started the fire going, and sat and watched him for a while. “Does Uther know you know magic symbols like that?”
Belvedere shook his head. “This is protective magic. No offence to Uther or anything, but he wouldn’t know protective magic if it hit him over the head. It’s not strong, but it could help from some of the animals that live in the woods nearby.” Merlin walked over and pressed his fingers to the runes; the tree glowed with his eyes and flashed once into the gloom.
“How much,” Merlin asked quietly, “did Morgana tell you about me?”
Belvedere was staring at him with wide eyes. “Evidently not enough.” He grinned. “You could come in more use in a battle than I thought.”
Battle.
Oh.
Arthur.
Merlin stared walking.
“Where are you going?” Belvedere called. “It’s not safe!”
“Just on a walk,” he yelled back hurriedly. “I won’t be long!” His feet carried him as far as he felt safe before he sank down on his knees in terror and whispered “Arthur?”
You didn’t tell me?
“I - I never - ”
You didn’t tell me?
The worst thing was he didn’t sound angry. He sounded betrayed.
“I thought you’d hate me,” he whispered.
I’m not my father.
“I’m sorry,” he squeaked. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”
There was no reply.
Merlin cried himself to sleep that night, and he wasn’t even sure Arthur could hear him or even cared.
I would have stood by you.
Merlin shocked awake, gasping, head swimming from the aftershocks of his dream. “Wh… what?” he whispered into the dark, heavy folds of the tent.
I would have stood by you. No matter what. “You would have picked me over your father?”
I did with the Mortaeus flower.
Merlin shook his head. “That was different.”
Yeah. That was just saving your life.
He chuckled drily. “It was still different.”
I helped you with Mordred. I’ve saved your life. I’ve helped you a thousand times, I’ve stuck up for you, I’ve defended you. How would this be different?
“It just… was,” Merlin finished lamely, and sighed.
What was it? You didn’t trust me?
“No,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I don’t know. I guess I was scared.”
Arthur went very quiet. You were scared of me?
Merlin grinned. “You’re a very scary man.”
I don’t mean to be. It was almost a mumble. I don’t mean to be.
“Arthur,” Merlin whispered, but fumbled for the words to go on. “Before, you said you were frightened?”
Just go back to sleep, Merlin.
“I’m scared too, Arthur.” He paused. “If it helps.” There was no reply, and Merlin wondered if Arthur could ignore him. He lay down again, rolling onto his back. “You don’t… hate me, for not telling you, do you?”
No.
Never.
Merlin sank into dreamless sleep.
After three and a half days, Merlin came to at least one solid conclusion; he hated riding.
Oh, God, please stop moaning, Merlin!
“Shall not,” he muttered petulantly, stretching out his legs and wincing. “I have every right to moan, this is agony.”
You’ve only been riding for three days! That’s nothing!
“Doesn’t feel like nothing.” He sighed and turned back to Belvedere. “How much further, d’you reckon?”
Belvedere nodded up at the mountains ahead. “We’ve got to get over those first.”
Merlin’s face fell. “Please tell me there’s a back route, or something?”
He shook his head. “Over or nothing. We can’t take the horses much further, after this. There’s a small town by the foot of the mountains; we’ll leave them there and pick them up on the way back.” He smiled. “When we get out of this forest, you’ll have one of the finest views in the whole of the world.”
The trees were thinning, almost imperceptibly; the horses seemed to notice, as they began to trot with slightly more vigour and fixed their eyes on the light ahead. Merlin had to admit he’d be glad to get out of the forest; the trees were starting to feel… looming around him.
Something drifted on the breeze. Something odd. He paused his horse for a second, turning her round gently to look the way they’d come. “It’s so old,” he murmured. “And full of magic.” He frowned. “Strange… magic. Ancient magic.” The trees creaked and writhed, and not entirely in the breeze.
Belvedere was waiting a little further up, anxiously checking the sun in the sky. “Merlin, we should move. Safe passage is nearly gone.”
Black was crawling along the road behind them, and it was coming for them…
“Merlin!”
He kicked his horse into life; she didn’t need telling twice. They broke into a blind gallop, only made possible by the trees deteriorating on each side; heartbeats later they burst out of the forest, Merlin gripping the mane in a blind panic, his eyes squeezed shut. Belvedere exited not much later, not quite at the speed Merlin had been travelling, but with as much haste in his eyes. The forest fell quiet behind him.
“There are dark places in the world,” he whispered, eyes scanning the trees before him. “Dark places better left untouched.”
“What was that?!” Merlin gasped, desperately trying to save his breath.
Would the words ‘evil forest’ sound a bit melodramatic to you? “Dark magic resides in some places as the natural order of things. It’s not uncommon, this far from civilisation. Normally, I’d have taken a long way round, but I figured we had enough time with the sun in alignment to get through.” Merlin shivered once; from the outside, the forest looked normal, even inviting. He didn’t need his supernatural magical abilities (what Gaius had, somewhat unkindly, referred to as his woman’s intuition) to tell him it was a façade. “We should get going. I want to show you something!”
The field they entered moved on a steep incline; at their present position Merlin couldn’t see anything past the tops of the trees, but he guessed it’d be a different story from the top. They made a slow, slippery and often treacherous path up the side; often, Belvedere would get down and lead them by foot. Eventually, however, they made it to the top, and Belvedere opened his arms proudly.
“Welcome, Merlin, to our world!”
Everything stretched beyond beauty and marvel beneath his feet. He could see everything and nothing; each immaculate detail was there and yet too tiny to focus on, like the threads in the tapestries back home. He could see fields and mountains and castles and lakes and there, in the distance, was that the sea? Were there foreign lands, spread beyond that vast expanse? Was someone staring at him, now, as he was staring across the ocean at them? His eyes drifted across the horizon, searching for something familiar, but finding nothing. Merlin felt a little more than disappointed at his apparent insignificance; in this, in the expanse of the world, this terrifying view, he was nothing, and it was wonderful.
A wisp of smoke caught his attention and he frowned. “What’s that, that smoke, over there?”
Belvedere caught where he was pointing, and frowned, judging the location by what he could see surrounding them. “I…” he frowned again. “I think it’s…”
Camelot! Arthur gasped. Camelot is burning!
Next update is Thursday 11th December, see you then!