Where Legends Begin

[Kaisaan]

Merlin's anger doesn't leave. In fact, it raises another notch but this time she's eerily calm about it and her words cut deeper that way. She watches Arthur with an unyielding gaze, furious with him, but not for the reason he will think. He's going to find out why very soon, though, as she crouches down to be at eye-level with him again. Her face is lined with steel and her demeanor tougher than the material his sword is made of. "You disappoint me, Arthur Pendragon." are the first words from her lips, but they are hardly the last as her breath clouds before her in thick vapors as her eyes meet his brown ones, no mercy in her own in that moment. And Arthur might realize it's missing now, for it's always been there, even when she was angry with him. In this moment, though, she's going to give him no leeway.

"You care more about my birthright than you do for me as a person and for that, I couldn't be more displeased with you. I gave up my title long ago and your reaction right now, your way of thinking is why I did so, part of why I ran from King Lot. A good King, a good Prince, a good man cares and respects those around him not because of their titles and their riches, but for their spirit and their will, their kindness and skill. I respect all those around me as people, not as titles and that is a lesson you have yet to learn."

She stands, shaking her head. "It hurts and angers me greatly that the only reason you are willing to speak kindly to me now, to trust me and listen is because you know I am nobility by birth. You claim to be knowledgeable, but you see far less than you think you do, Prince Arthur. You have not the heart to see yet what is before you, nor the humility to learn it. You are a man, Arthur Pendragon and you can be brought low just as easily as any other man. A peasant can learn just as much as you given the opportunity. You are human, just like any other person who walks by you as you ride above them. Fate has made you a Prince, but nature makes you no better than the lowliest servant."

Merlin steps back and she gives him a bitter smile. "And Prince Arthur, I am only half nobility. My mother was a Druid with no title, no claim to any noble rights. If you are so convinced that I am different than I was just moments before because my heritage was revealed to you, than rest assured I am not. You can continue treating me as the dirt beneath your shoes. Half of my bloodline is that according to you, after all." She speaks again before he can, her dark blue eyes softening only momentarily in sadness. "Unfortunately, you're not going to get that chance. I still need to keep you alive, safe."

And like that she disappears into the underbrush like a spirit and no matter how Arthur searches this time, he won't find her.

 

[Vacyr]

Standing once Merlin fades into the bushes, Arthur knows that he has a lot of thinking to do. Is Merlin right when she says that anyone, and she really does mean anyone, can gain the knowledge that he can. She is wrong and he knows it. The peasants who roam his land might be smart in common sense but when it comes to the sciences and math or logic and the abstract, they can't grasp the nature of those things. They can't for they don't have access to the libraries and the books that line those shelves so delicately. Peasants can hardly write their name, putting their own symbol in the tax books for they aren't literate. It's that simple. Sure, they can learn but such prospects are stretching out into territory that they will drown in if they keep sailing. Knowledge is meant for those who may understand it. Not workers.

His chest feels tight, his footsteps moving but his heart still lying on that field where Merlin gouged it right out of his chest. If Arthur closes his eyes, he imagines blood staining the faint blanket of snow, two tracks leading in opposite directions. But now the Prince leans heavily upon his sword, using it as the crutch he needs, Merlin's words weighing him down. He won't show as much of the turmoil that truly plagues him for the Prince stands tall for the monumental moments of his life while others would shy away. Arthur finally reaches his horse, a loyal beast that greets him with a small sound he doesn't quite hear beneath the beating of his own heart in his ears. The ride back to the Kingdom is long and winding, Arthur hardly keeping an eye out on the road before him and instead, he looks to the clouds and the cosmos for the answers he seeks.

For the next four days, Arthur hardly leaves his room, staring out from his desk through the warped glass panes to the tower where Merlin resides. Well, where Merlin resided. The longer he thinks upon the words, the less sleep he gets. She said, all those weeks ago on the top of that mountain, that he would be a great leader and yet, she strikes him right where it hurts. He is royalty and his thoughts and actions are, after all, hereditary and nothing more. The Prince has been brought up to separate himself from his people just as Uther does. Sure, they wave and smile, speaking at them but the peasants don't mind. They, after all, are speaking to royalty and that's all they're thinking about. But to become a King with such darkness in his heart, such disgraces towards Merlin, is not what Arthur wishes. He could, after all, always step down after being crowned and thus giving the power to the next monarch in line. Morgana.

 

[Kaisaan]

The two figures that walk through the halls are an odd sight for one is tall and almost regal in a sense, his brown hair cropped short and his beard neat. He walks with purpose in his strides, confidence and yet there is a kindness to his face, in his eyes and slight smile. The one who walks beside him is much, much younger, a little girl of about ten with blond ringlets of curls and the greenest eyes. She nearly skips as she walks, her demeanor bright and her gaze intelligent, far more than a child should but, but innocent, too, unmarred. They walk as if they know the castle by heart and all who see them seem not to care that they are there, almost as if they can't really see them at all and perhaps that is true for when they reach the Prince's room, they bypass the guards with nothing but a polite nod and a smile, a giggle on the girl's part.

They enter the room and it is the girl the who speaks to the Prince who takes note of them, not at all alarmed by an defensive moves he makes. "Hello, King Arthur."

"Prince, Celiane. He's not the King yet." the man corrects and the child 'ohs' before nodding and smiling at Arthur again. "You look like a King." she confides quietly with a grin and the man shakes head fondly before looking up at the blond. "We mean you no harm, Prince Arthur Pendragon. I am Matteo, a druid and this is Celiane. We are here on the behalf a mutual friend. I believe you know of a Merlin?"

Matteo makes no move toward Arthur, keeping his arm around Celiane's shoulders as she looks about with a child's curiosity, but her gaze, admiring always comes back to Arthur, a knowing look in her eyes. "She didn't send us, but she misses you and she's ill. You two are not supposed to be parted."

"Celiane, hush."

 

[Vacyr]

The door slamming on its hinges does make Arthur jump in his seat, those brown eyes turning to look at what he expects would be an anxious guard or his family. Sighing, the Prince, looking quite bored as he takes his head from his palm that rests on the desk, "I thought," he starts but never gets the chance to finish, "Never mind." Sucking in a breath, the Prince raises a brow at the two and immediately a finger rises, "What are you doing here?" Just like the Prince he is, the tone he uses his forceful, a dagger coming into view from its sheathe on his thigh. With Merlin gone and the castle moving back into the herbal remedies for healing, Arthur now takes greater caution as to not be stabbed with a poisoned blade. There would be no gold tendrils sinking into his flesh as long as Merlin is gone.

"I also look like a Prince who has very little time to spare," Arthur announces, turning back to his desk to shuffle around a few papers that he should be reading and signing or whatever Princely duties his father wants him to do today. "Now I don't have all day so why don't you two make yourselves and put up your feet by the fire," his hand swipes in that direction, clearly annoyed by these two and their sudden appearance, "I mean," he chuckles, "You're already barging into my chambers so why not take over the damn castle."

Merlin.

Now that is a name that catches the Prince's attention. "That woman, I assure you, wants nothing to do with me anymore. She made such plans very, very, clear in our last meeting." Soon after little Celiane speaks though, Arthur looks up to the window, finding a perfect symmetrical view of Merlin's rooms across the way and his heart drops, his fingers shaking. They miss her warm hands as much as he does. Clearing his throat though, he poises no interest in the fact that she misses him. "Mmhm, a lot of women do miss me," he breathes, that pompous taste to the back of his throat rises once again, his words unfriendly. All he would like is for these two knucklebrains to turn around and just leave.

But then the two speak of Merlin's illness, Arthur pauses again, his eyes closing. The Prince's back is still facing the two Druids, his hands coming down on the edges of the table to steady himself. If she is sick, he must go to her? Turning around, Arthur brushes his hair to the side, attempting to tuck it around his ear but the threads fall like a curtain across a window. Studying the two silently as they speak of his dreams, the Prince nods. He has no reason not to trust them - especially a little girl.

For they look like Druids, sound like Druids, and, Arthur takes a deep breath of air, his nose crinkling, they smell like them too. It doesn't take the Prince long to be convinced and after a letter is written to his father, he leaves with the two Druids, his sword at his hip along with his breastplate, pauldron, cuisse, and other light armors. The Druids insist that he doesn't need such protection but Arthur insists upon it, stashing a few items of clothing along with him for when he is not armored up.

 

[Kaisaan]

Matteo and Celiane go by horseback, leading Arthur into the forest and still further into the deepest parts of the woods, into the valleys of the mountains, by secret paths even he hasn't gone until they come to a village quite suddenly, as if it has appeared out of thin air in the trees and little Celiane laughs in delight to be home, urging her horse forward and leaping off the animal's back, not needing to unsaddle or take the bridle off the creature for it bears none. She races toward a woman who scoops her up and they begin to speak as Matteo continued to lead Arthur through the village.

It is simple, the Druids possessing no real houses, no fine possessions or riches. Their homes are built of the forest around them, of sticks and moss and leaves, thatch. They are a people who live off the land and yet everywhere Arthur looks he will see that they are happy. Children laugh and play, running around and everyone helps one another. They all look up and nod in greeting, friendly and sincere to the Prince when he rides by, but they do the same for Matteo as well, treating the two men as equal before they go along with their business. A visiting Prince is no greater a thing to them than any visiting guest. It is how Arthur behaves, how he treats them that will determine how he is ultimately received by the Druid people.

Matteo finally stops his horse and dismounts, speaking as he does. "Our Elder will greet you soon, but first..." He directs Arthur's attention to the figure sitting on a fallen tree's trunk, her legs pulled up and chin resting on her knees. Even from a distance she looks like a sad creature, the aura around her heavy and then she moves, looking up, head turning swiftly toward Arthur's direction as if called by an unseen force. Merlin's dark blue eyes meet his brown and the stormy hues of her own gaze start to break up, like the sun coming through a thick layer of clouds. She moves hesitantly, almost clumsily at first as she rises and then her movement becomes swifter as relief sweeps across her face and then a smile. She's before Arthur very soon and her body moves forward slightly as if she wants to embrace him, but she hesitates and then stops.

Her eyes studying him instead, as if merely drinking in his presence is food enough for her famished spirit and when she speaks it's softly, none of the anger from four days ago present. "Why...how did you...?"

"I brought him, Sun-child. You can not be whole one without the other and my people will not sit by while you force yourself to suffer. Be together now and be well." He says nothing more, having said all he needs to and Merlin looks after him both in exasperation and gratefulness before she turns her eyes back to Arthur and that smile comes again, unbidden, to her lips.

"Pendragon, it gladdens me to see you are safe."

 

[Vacyr]

Arthur does his best not to look down upon these people. These Druids that seem so removed from civilization that the mere thought might drive the Prince mad. He can't grasp the concept of such conformity with the elements around them for they do not fear the soft soil beneath their feet. If anything, these Druids welcome them with open arms and wide smiles. The earth is as a mother to them, scolding them when they have taken too much but rewarding them none the less. They welcome the rain, snow, thunder, and hail as if they were aunts and uncles. The people of his world, the advanced world in his eyes, despise the rain, wanting to be in it for as little as possible. But even Arthur doesn't mind the elements. Perhaps he might realize they aren't so different after all.

But any thoughts about the people he has seen or the sights he has witnessed are all noise in the background of his mind. As soon as he sees Merlin's hair twisting down her back, he is certain it's her. When she turns, he feels his heart rate increase, his palms becoming warm and sweat filling the cracks. How will she accept me after all I have said and done? The Prince thinks, his eyes liking the attention from those dark blue hues. She has such a magnificent color, such a unique color, that he can't imagine a single other soul who shares remotely the same shade or tone of color she holds. Merlin is, and he is certain she always will be, his unique blue flower in a field of boring and insecure leftovers.

Now that he looks into her eyes, Arthur nods at her joy in seeing him again. He was expecting angry words and flailing arms, her voice shouting along the way that his kind are not allowed in such a sanctuary. She would be right, after all, if Arthur wants to believe it or not. Turning to look at the Druid who pointed Merlin out, Arthur dips his head, thanking the man for directing him here so that they may be reunited.

"Sun-child? He asks, his brows knitting together, unable to understand the title that has been bestowed upon Merlin. "Merlin," Arthur slips from his saddle, making sure he doesn't kick her on the way down, "I heard that you were sick, what is wrong? You haven't caught the chill of the cold, have you? Please tell me you're all right. I... " Arthur starts but he clears his throat and restates his sentence, "Camelot has missed your presence within her halls. When will enough time pass for you to safely return to King Uther? Surely you plan on retuning at some point?" Arthur's hands grip the fabric at his sides, smiling at the jolt of warmth that has flooded back into Merlin's features. He is memorized by her. Even in such a disheveled state, he sees her as beautiful and healthy. Now that he is here, that is. "I never want to see," his hand gestures in the direction of the fallen tree, her collapsed ghost still haunting the Prince's mind, "that," his arm shakes, reiterating his point, "again, Merlin. A woman like you ought not to feel such... such..." His voice lowers, as shallow as a droplet of water on his face from the clouds," Loneliness!"

 

[Kaisaan]

Merlin smiles and laughs softly at his rushed words, having missed them greatly and she looks at the Prince with no more anger, no ill-will or bitterness as she had four days ago. It seems time has give them both some time to sort a few things out, or at least to soften toward the other and while conversations will have to be had between the two, probably even more arguments, Merlin knows that this time she will not leave him again. She can't. Where Arthur is...is home and she desperately wants to go back home. So when he mentions coming back, she nods slowly, thinking about the letter she has sent to King Uther via bird today of all days. He had asked her to write it and she has. What his judgement will be on it...she does not know. But she told him everything. Of how Lot had had he father killed to take her in as his 'ward, how in reality she was a prisoner and treated as such, how he'd wanted her to use her powers for his dirty work, to make her a killer, an assassin in a sense. She told him about the abuse and her escape. She spoke of when she defied the King and stole things to help those around her, how she lied about that and about prisoners, women and children, she'd helped escape him.

And she told him about the rest of her powers; how she could move things without touching them, her control over animals, her knowledge of ancient Dracon, her healing ability that could also be used to take life just as easily....and she told him about her ability to catch glimpses of the future. What she did not tell him, though, and would tell no one at this time, was her family's heritage and what it meant. Not yet. She was taking a step even admitting she was a Seer.

"I hope to return soon, Arthur." she answers neutrally, but it should give him hope that she DOES want to come back, plans to. She won't be away forever. Merlin looks back at the fallen tree for a moment and then her eyes come back to him and she doesn't stop until she's right before him. Her hand comes to his shoulder and she rises on her tiptoes and impulsively kisses his cheek. Her lips lingered for only a moment on his skin and she spoke softly as she pulled back. "Then stay and talk with me awhile, and I won't be lonely."

Another smile graces her lips, teasing and she starts to move backward then, beckoning him to follow as the rain starts to come down and Merlin doesn't rush as she goes through the village, the droplets from above already starting to make her dark hair soaked, clinging to her face, her clothes plastering to her body. The healer looks happy, like she belongs amongst such elements and she tilts her head up for a moment to smile at the rain that caresses her face before ducking into a hut and reaching back, grabbing Arthur's hand and pulling him in after her. She grins up at him as their bodies come close for a moment, her face tilted up toward his and then Merlin moves away and sits against a stick-made wall, a small fire burning in the center of the hut, the smoke curling up through a hole in the top. The rain beats outside like gentle music and the brunette's dark blue eyes looks back at Arthur with tranquil peace he probably will not have seen from her before.

"I am not ill in body, Arthur, so you needn't worry. Sickness means many things to the Druids and I suppose to them I have been sick. They said the same words when they took me in six years ago, too. Sickness is more something of the entire being of a person rather than just their health." She leaves it at that, not sure she should tell him what has made her look dejected earlier.

 

[Vacyr]

Her lips grace his cheek, Arthur's mouth cracking open like an egg to sit and linger until she pulls back. The cheek muscles underneath her full lips tighten, well, at least the jaw does as well as his shoulders. Prince Arthur finds comfort in her kiss, wanting more from where it came but knowing that such questions would not, and never will, be welcome to be asked of Merlin. Is she seducing me? Is all that comes to Arthur's mind, his entire chest tightening at the prospect of his own minds desire. As soon as her lips leave his cheek, Arthur's eyes snap open, warming her hues with a smile both on his lips and in those brown pools. Instead of speaking, for Arthur knows his voice is likely to crack, the Prince nods to her offer of him staying awhile. The thought does tickle his fancy, wanting her to spend time with her people. Camelot will be there when they return.

But his eyes are hardly on the village as they pass the thatch homes in the trickling rain. Arthur swallows down his curiosity to why she kissed him, almost forgetting his original thought when Merlin grabs his hand from behind her. His heart leaps in his chest upon the contact, beating so rapidly he fears that he might faint. She is taking me into a hut. -Her- hut. Grabbing my hand. Kissing my cheek. What the hell is going on here? Swallowing again, he figures that it's time for him to speak for as soon as he had ranted about the questions fluttering in his mind although the topic has long changed of her returning. Her smile is enough to assure him that after the necessary amount of time passed, she will gladly return with him. The smile returns, her wet clothed body nearly touches his. He forgets to breathe, his lungs shaking in his chest before he sucks in another breath, Merlin's back turning to him before she sits down.

He doesn't take a seat yet, his hands folding over one another behind his back. Those brown eyes of his look down and to the right, his mind flickering through his emotions. Should I sit next to her? Across from her? Should I even be here right now? Yes, of course, you numbskull. I can't live without her. Stupid. Arthur waits patiently for Merlin to access where he shall be placed, his stomach tightening when she pats the ground next to her. His legs take a second to move, his teeth chewing on his lip for a second when he turns his head to the small hole letting the smoke out.

Trying to ease his nerves, Arthur sits down next to Merlin and stretches out his legs towards the fire, feeling the heat build up against his boots already. "But the Druids who came to my castle, who came into my room, said that you were sick. Don't lie to me, Merlin," he still sounds concerned as he leans back to press his weight against his elbows, "Please don't. Because... well," he sits up abruptly, shifting so that his shoulder is now to the fire, his eyes on her. She reached out to him with that kiss and now he is going to do the same. Leaning in, he snakes his hands around hers, the roughness as tough as always yet warm. Very warm. Even a bit sweaty in the creases of his palms. Once he catches her eyes, which doesn't take long at all, Arthur speaks with his chin raised ever so slightly, "I want us to understand one another."

 

[Kaisaan]

Merlin looks away, almost wincing as he tells her not to lie and she can't help but feel defensive about that. She'd been accused of lying so many times by him four days ago that to hear it now causes a pain to flare through her chest and Merlin is unsure that it will truly mend any time soon. She wants him to trust her, but she can't make him and the brunette keeps her eyes away from his until she feel's him take her hand. Dark blue eyes immediately flash to brown, startled, but she doesn't pull back as she lets her fingers soak in the warmth of his hand, lets the comfort she can see in his eyes wash over her and the healer smiles softly, relaxing.

"I am not lying to you, Pendragon, and I never will." Her tone is quiet, but firm and she stares at him evenly for a moment before her gaze relaxes and the slight smile comes back. Merlin reaches up and tucks damp hair behind her ear as she searches for the words to say to him. She doesn't want to worry Arthur over something that he couldn't control, that she'd done to herself and something that wasn't relevant anymore, but...knowing him, he's probably not going to see it her way even if he does want to understand now. And oh, how those words please her! She has so much to teach him, but he has to be willing to learn it and this is a start, she can see that and it makes hope flare within her chest like a flower blooming in the first warm rays of the sun. It's a nice feeling to have again and she will hold on to it carefully.

"Wait...your room? Oh, I am going to kill Matteo..." Merlin mutters the last bit, shaking her head but she answers the rest of Arthur's question as well, feeling more prepared for it now. "I was sick in spirit, Arthur, not in body. I...am supposed to be where you are. I have always been fated to meet you and I ran, I left my post so to speak, and so the force that drew me to you also strove to make me miserable for leaving you."

There. She wasn't sure what he was going to do with that, but it was the truth and it was far more than she'd wanted to explain right now because really, every time she tells him things like this, he dismisses them or draws away from her because he doesn't understand. Merlin doesn't want either thing right now, but she'd told him she wouldn't lie to him and she won't. So she didn't. She meets his eyes again and smiles almost hesitantly her fingers twitching in his hold with nervous energy. "I would like us to understand one another, too."

 

[Vacyr]

((Phone))

"Well," Arthur breathes, his fingers curling around hers so that he may squeeze them gently. But before he can pull away, Arthur starts to speak again, "it's not that bad, Merlin. He did, in fact, bring me to where you are so, it doesn't matter if he barged into my room unannounced and skillfully skipped past each and every guard on duty to get there. Believe me," Arthur chuckles lightly, "King Uther," he practically always addresses his father by title, "would have had them burnt at the stake for all I know if they were caught." The Prince flashes a quick exotic smile, not thinking on if their demise but of the ways they could trick the guards. "It amazes me that they could slip in as easily as they did. I guess ill have to tell King Uther to start posting more guards. It would be awful if they had been assassins. Well, I suppose I could have taken them but... You get where I'm heading with this."

Shrugging his bowl shaped shoulders, the Prince releases her hands from the safety of his own. Curling them back into one another before him, he flips his hair as to remove the fallen strands from his brown eyes. Not wanting to cause any awkwardness between them, Arthur returns to his relaxed position. He contemplates, his teeth gently chewing upon his lower lip, if he should tell her that he worried about her too. In a way, a prominent way, his soul had been sick too. But he looks to the fire instead, the smell of smoke clouding the room and taking his attention from her.

"I should most likely get to see your chieftain, right?" He asks, shuffling up from the dry ground. The soft sizzling of water hitting the fire tingles through the tent, steam rising from each and every spot. Smiling over at Merlin, he hesitates, his fingers still feeling her warmth. Before he can think, he rubs them on the seams of his breeches, trying to stop his mind from wondering. He closes his eyes and sees her, the woman right in front of him, stripping herself from her clothing. He gulps and his eyes flash open. "Yes," he agrees with himself a little anxiously, his eyes turning to the doorway, "is there anything else we need to confer about? I think we're settled. Don't you?"

 

[Kaisaan]

Yes, that was why she was going to kill Matteo. If he'd been caught, if Celiane had been caught, they'd both be dead now and dammit, Merlin didn't want anyone risking their life like that for her sake! She wasn't worth it. The healer shook her head, standing as Arthur did and she watched him with amusement as he grew more nervous, erroneously thinking that he was acting as such because he was uneasy about meeting the Druid Elder. She chuckled softly and touched his arm as she passed him to the opening of the hut. "Relax, Pendragron. You won't be harmed. The Druids are not a violent people and they welcome anyone who does not mean them harm."

She ducked out of the crude building and back into the light drizzle, pulling her hair back behind her so it wouldn't stick to her face and she looks back to make sure Arthur is following before starting to lead him through the semi-quiet 'village', everyone inside their huts, laughter and chatter reaching their ears through the branch-like walls. Merlin spoke as they moved, her pace relaxed and almost meandering. There was no rush here, no place to go, no schedule to keep, no meetings or grand dinners. There was only hard work and fun, peace. There was peace here and such a thing suited Merlin quite well. She wore it like one did a favorite cloak and it settled over her pleasingly.

"Matteo and Celiane were able to get into the palace because they both have a touch of elven blood. They can cast temporary, small illusions to make people see what they want to. It's a touch of ancient power, just like mine, but less than mine. A few Druids here and there have it. Fortunately for Camelot and any other kingdom, the Druids and the elves are not a war-like people and they don't practice assassination. You got lucky." she teases, dark blue eyes looking back at him with mischief and then Merlin stops in front of a larger hut, but no more grand than the rest.

"Now, relax. The Druid Elder is called Elyon and for as long as I have known him, I've never seen him throw out a guest who meant the Druids no harm. You should be fine."

"Indeed he should. Are you going to come in, Sun-child, or do I have to hobble out there into the rain to join you?" The voice that speaks from the hut is old, but strong, full of mirth and Merlin grins as she ducks down and enters, trusting Arthur will come in after her. Like her own hut, a fire burns in the middle of the room and its warm. Unlike her hut, though, the ground is littered with pelts and frames of branches with intricately patterned frames twine inside them, like a spider's web, hang from the ceiling. Small wooden carvings of animals are settled delicately within the frame of the hut itself, balanced on branches and Merlin looks at them fondly before she sits across the fire from the older man with white hair and yet a healthy appearance who sits on the opposite side. His blue eyes twinkle with good humor and yet there is a power behind his wrinkled brown skin that can't be denied.

"Elder Elyon, this is Arthur."

Those blue eyes, piercing but still not as sharp as Merlin's can be, go to Arthur, appraising him. "The Pendragon, yes. You are welcome among the Druids, Arthur, but tell me, what has brought you here?"

 

[Vacyr]

The muscles of his arm tighten when he feels her fingers touch his skin now, the complete opposite of what relaxing warmth he had felt before. The Prince is on edge, his fingers twitching after Merlin passes him. It's true that he wants to show more of his feelings towards her but right now, after all the nights of warm embraces in his bed, his mind simply won't let him be close to her without retaliating in some way. Why does his body do such a thing? Yes, he has spent many a night sitting up against his soft feathered pillows with those thoughts swirling around his head. They're like hawk talons gripping into his back, taking him up into the skies then dropping him back down to earth. Will he ever understand? Or is the world against the Prince? He grimaces at the thought and luckily Merlin's back is facing him although she might feel the sudden drop in his confidence.

These huts, with gray smoke creating the clouds above them, mean nothing to the Prince and thus, he pays little attention to them. It's true that he can be very observant but his interest truly matters in the young man. If there is no motivation, thus there is hardly any observation. He may hear the chattering of the Druids in their huts but its background noise to him, a soft static vibrating against his brain but never soaking in as it should. This moment, walking upon unfamiliar ground with the dirt uneven beneath his boots, should be a key moment for the Prince to be at the ready. At any moment these creatures of the forest could all turn upon the Prince and kill him. Yet, while he is with Merlin, he will not be harmed. It's when he is alone which are the moments when he should worry. Unprotected by his guardian angel, he will be.

"Merlin, I..." Arthur starts but Elder Elyon's comes from the tent, digging an icy pick into the Crown Prince's back, each and every muscle jumping. He had not expected them to be -there- quite yet but alas, his thoughts are all over the place, much like the pathway of a feather dropping to the ground. It's unpredictable and slow, much like Arthur's footsteps behind Merlin when he enters the tent. Upon seeing the Elder, he dips his head respectfully, his eyes lowering to his feet as they should. And there he stands, the soon to be Great King of Britain, against the earthy background of the woven patterns of flexible twigs. It's here where his body feels warm, the large fire flickering against his bowed head. He waits for the opportune moment, the calling of the Elder for him to rise his head.

"I have come to see Merlin and make sure that she is alright." he says simply.

 

[Kaisaan]

Elder Elyon laughs softly at the top of Arthur's head and tilts his own. "You may sit, Arthur. There is no rank here, no etiquette to follow." He gestures for the Prince to sit and Merlin reaches up, grabs his tunic and pulls down, practically making him comply as she grins and then turns to the Elder. "He's a bit jumpy." She supplies helpfully, eyes glittering with laughter and the old man chuckles, but gives her look. "Be nice, Sun-child. He does not know our ways as you do."

Merlin glances at Arthur, weighing the truth of that, but she knows he's still jumpier than usual. He's nervous and she has to wonder why. It's not like he doesn't meet visiting nobility all the time, not like he's not thrust into new situation sooner than he can even turn his head to acknowledge them. Why then is he so tense and uncertain over meeting a Druid? A peaceful people? Or is it the power they hold that alarms him so? Merlin tilts her head a little, meeting his brown eyes for a moment and she smiles fractionally before moving her hand to cover his own in a comforting gesture, gold seeping from her fingertips and into his skin, not healing, just providing warmth, soothing.

Elyon watches the two curiously for a moment before he speaks up again, directing the atmosphere to the questions at hand. "Now that you have deemed Merlin is well, what do you plan to do now?"

"Elder Elyon, if I may?"

A dipped head gives her permission to interrupt - or at least tells her she won't be rude by doing so - and Merlin glances at Arthur again, but speaks, knowing very well he might protest himself, but hopeful that he won't. "I would request that Arthur be allowed to stay here for a few days, that he and I might talk further before I am again thrust into court life at Camelot." The Elder smiles at her description of going back and nods. "I think this is a reasonable suggestion. What say you, Arthur? Would you stay here with Merlin and learn something of our ways?" His blue eyes pierce into the Pendragon, as if he can read his heart, his mind even. "You did come here for your dreams of the bear, too, did you not?"

At this Merlin tenses slightly, but she says nothing and the Elder glances at her, assessing, but keeps his focus on Arthur and the Prince's answer.

 

[Vacyr]

"I am not fatigued of mind, Elder Elyon. It's been a long day, riding here with worry for Merlin's health. When your men came to my castle, they told me of sickness and I feared the worst. But I have learned since then," he gestures to Merlin, "with the help of warm hands, that sickness, to your people, can mean body, heart, and mind. Even so, I do not wish for Merlin to not be her self. It troubles me when she is not in Camelot for your Druid, and my," Arthur swallows, not realizing the presence of such strong words fleeting from his throat, "Merlin, my healer, I do worry for her safety. With such skill as she, there is one understandable flaw. Healing herself is uncheckable without the daggers of death stepping closer to her door. So when she is alone, such as running into the forest and disappearing from sight, she is in trouble. Even if she won't accept it, she shouldn't be traveling alone. There are thieves and bandits, murderers and perverts upon Camelot's land no matter how little they appear in the Kingdom's capital."

Arthur speaks clearly, all thoughts turning to business, his posture upright and steady as he is pulled next to Merlin. Only then does Merlin, his dear Merlin, suggest that he stay here. Arthur's eyes tighten and narrow, his mind thinking upon such a prospect. "I can understand Merlin's hope to stay here, this is where she lives. This is where she prospers. No matter how much I may not understand her - I know that she is an open spirit that deserves open air and the elements at her finger tips instead of the chiseled stone from Camelot's walls." Shifting his body a little, Arthur loses contact with Merlin's healing hands, his mind thinking that he is better off without her distracting touches. Then the Elder talks of his dreams and Arthur widens his eyes, "How do you know of such things?" he asks, astonished that - oh wait, Arthur rolls his eyes at himself, shaking his head to dismiss his own question. "Of course you know. And I thought my personal affairs would be... well, personal."

It's not that Arthur wishes to be dismissive to Merlin but his mind, as she should know, has changed gears. When he works, he works. There are hardly any distractions that come into his head and if they do, he is quick to push them aside to be forgotten into the cloudy wonderland of his mind. He does, however, glance over to Merlin, giving her a stern nod so that she can understand him and his reasons for pulling away. "I... I suppose that if you know such information, I should put my trust in you and your people." Arthur nods, "Staying for a few days, a few, mind you, will be enough. But I cannot stay for long and I hope that you know of such reasons behind my words. A Prince cannot stay away from his Kingdom for long unless he is on a campaign. But, since Merlin wishes it," Arthur places a hand on her knee, a quick and steady touch before pulling back, much like a pat on the back but more... personal, "Then I shall stay by her side. She, after all, is sick without me for ..." Arthur pauses, not quite knowing where he is going with his statement, "For we're..." he starts again only to pause, "So I wish to stay by my healer since, after all, I did promise her protection."

 

[Kaisaan]

Merlin has never heard Arthur stumble over his words so many times and she watches him with a perplexed expression when he does not look at her, adjusting her face when he does look over, but the confusion is still there. Oh, she's not offended by his abruptness or his swiftly changing attitude as he treats this like a meeting between two powerful parties, but the fact that he can't get his words straight, that he's agitated and keeps pausing and glancing at her, make her wonder what is going on. This is Arthur, it's not like he's not being himself, but it's not a side of him she's seen before. It's rather cute...in an odd way. Most definitely cute, though.

She feels a smile come of her face, lighting up in her eyes as he agrees to stay and a soft laugh exits her mouth when he speaks of protecting her, her eyes warm when they meet his and her hand chases his retreating one, but it doesn't hold his own, rather she pokes his side. "Who's been protecting whom?" It's a tease and Elyon chuckles as well, but addresses something Arthur has said instead of joining in on the fun. It's enough to silence Merlin without being told to as she listens attentively to what he might say. It if concerns Arthur, it concerns her too and the Druids know that better than anyone...well, maybe not as well as the elves, but the two races share such information closely. After all, their people are very similar and both are affected by the ancient power in some way or another.

"The Sun-child is indeed sick without the Earth-child, of that you are correct. However, I don't believe you yet know of the connection you and she share. Is this true, Myrddin?" The last part is addressed to Merlin and she starts a little at the different use of language, but glances at Arthur with an unreadable expression and then nods. "I...have not told him, but in my defense, I didn't know then as much as I do now."

"Then I will leave such a matter up to you. As for Arthur's dreams, we will teach him what we can about controlling them, but I fear that why they are occurring and how to handle them are your responsibility to teach as well, Sun-child. As you can now see, you can't escape such responsibility, can not cheat Fate by running."

Merlin seems to almost wilt, but she nods, accepting the words and the reprimand, and Elyon seems satisfied as he turns back to Arthur. "We know about your dreams through Merlin. It is unfortunate that her thoughts are very loud most days. She's forgotten that bit of training. Now, you are welcome to stay here as long as you wish, Earth-child, so long as you do not bring harm to my people. I hope your stay is a pleasant one."

It's a clear dismissal and Merlin rises, encouraging Arthur to do the same. She knows he will have questions when they exit, but she really does hope that he won't start yelling them at her.

 

[Vacyr]

Nearly feeling that Arthur has talked too much, he hardly says a word once Elder Elyon and Merlin both take their turns speaking. Squirming often, having to stop his mind from flickering to this comment or to this and that question - a majority of them being questions - Arthur soon finds a deep, unsettling pain growing from the back of his head to his temples. When they're dismissed, his stomach growls like the wolves he met in the forest days prior. Beckoning Merlin over to his side, even though she would have been there anyway if he wanted or not, Arthur takes her, or rather she takes Arthur, to eat. A healthy stew is cooked up and the two of them eat and speak quietly, questions rising and falling like their own chests rising and falling. Arthur, fabricating some excuse, well partly an excuse, about being fatigued, curls up in a corner of Merlin's tent to bid goodnight to the stars until the sun shall rise.

And when that sun rises, a golden ball of fire in the sky, the rain from the previous day is wiped away as if by an eraser, leaving the sky a bright blue. A perfect cloudless sky. Merlin is the first to wake from her dreams and soon Arthur, groggy but awake, is up as well. The Prince firmly refuses to wear anything but the clothing designated for a Prince. He will not be seen around such huts with rags for clothing. Even though he articulates his thoughts in quite a different way - that's the gist of it and Merlin is well aware what he is thinking before he says it. Merlin then takes him on a tour of the Druidistic lands. Birds flock freely above them as they roll from field to forest, up long stretches of hill and down steep slopes and sometimes rocky ones too.

Over the last hill, Arthur catches a spot of sparkling blue in the distance. Without thinking, Arthur takes Merlin's hand in his, much like she has done previous times, over and over again. Their fingers have yet to intertwine but he holds it as if he is holding a cup, palms pressing together and fingers wrapping around an edge. They've been walking all morning, Arthur's hair sticking to his face, unable to be flipped casually aside. The glittering of the water only grows in their vision as Arthur passes the tall grasses, coming to their personal haven between the two large mountains in the distance.

Releasing Merlin's hand, Arthur throws his arms up in the air as if signaling victory for all the world to hear. His clothes stick to his body, contouring to his chiseled body completely. But that's not the end of it, Arthur is soon heaving his damp shirt over his head, exposing those woven muscles of his and slipping off his boots and socks. Before Merlin can blink, he is jumping in the mirror. Those sunkissed arms of his, easily raising a shield or sword on the battlefield to defend his country, separate the water, pushing his body forward with the aid of kicking legs. In a frenzy of almost synchronized splashes, Arthur has made it to the middle of the lukewarm lake, compliments of its solitude, and possible underground springs, baking in the sun all morning.

 

[Kaisaan]

Merlin had been surprised to not be questioned by Arthur yesterday, but she'd let it go for the time being. What she needed to tell him was not something she could just force on him. Well, she could, but the results would be guaranteed to be unfavorable and she'd rather he be willing to hear what she had to tell him of of his own free will and in his own time...to a point. If he never asked, she'd have to force him to hear her out, but Merlin sincerely hoped it wouldn't come to that. Still, she felt better than she had in days as she finally slept without waking in the middle of the night in a panic and the next day she feels like she could do anything.

She teases Arthur for his refusal to wear any of the type of clothes she does, but doesn't press the matter and instead convinces him to go exploring with her, knowing that he will relax if she can just get him away from everyone he doesn't know. It works, too, and when he takes her hand, Merlin's heart skips a beat in the oddest of ways. She finds a smile growing on her face and then it turns to curiosity as she's pulled to the lake, and then outright staring and surprise when Arthur strips and jumps into the water. She has no idea why her cheeks suddenly flame and her body feels like it's been struck with a bolt of lightning, but Merlin is glad that the Prince is paying her no attention as she gets her reactions - and why is she reacting? - under control.

It's not like it's the first time she's seen Arthur without a shirt or held his hand. What is wrong with her? Why is this time...different?

Shaking her head and hoping to shake the thoughts away as well, the healer sets her bow and quiver down and takes her shoes off, setting all three aside where they can't get wet. Merlin pulls her red-brown overshirt off then, but hesitates after, watching Arthur. It's not that she's embarrassed about showing skin to him or even being in so little clothes in front of him. It's the scarring she's worried about, but...he's seen it before. One of the few people she's willingly let see it and Merlin decides that she needs to trust him as she wants him to trust her. Her undershirt leaves then and she's left in her breast band and pants as she wades into the water. The healer can't bring herself to go above her naval, though, and there she stops, head tilting as she watches Arthur, noting that he moves like an otter through the water; like he's born to it.

Merlin crosses her arms, unsure how she feels about the situation she's put herself in, but tries to smile when she meet's Arthur's eyes. "Well, you got me in water again. Just don't throw me this time, yes?"

 

[Vacyr]

How the water is refreshing. Arthur finds his muscles all relaxing easily once he reaches the middle of the lake and bobs there up and down. The landscape, as all of England is, takes on the roll of beauty. The water is calm and clear, smooth and silken as if woven from fine threads that bump against Arthur's body. But then, he hears the slow and steady popping of feet into the water from the shore, Merlin attracting his undivided attention now that she is wading herself into his lake. Her knees splash against the water as she trudges her way inwards, kicking up all and every bit of the sandy bottom as she does so. Then she pauses and a memory sparks in his mind of her in his arms, then the sound of a splash. No, this time he won't be such an ass. But she did, after all, deserve such a treatment last time. Right now, as he scoops the water behind him to greet the shallower waters, he won't do any such thing. Merlin has been though enough after all.

The Prince rises from the depths, droplets of the unsoiled water immediately starting to drop from his wet hair. His torso, the faint scars from the bear claws still present upon his skin, glistens in the light of the day, the water catching the light in the most spectacular way. There is no doubt that he is has taken both time and energy building his body into its proper role. His brawny shape holds many tales, his muscles poking outwards but some scars, those that are deep enough, curling inwards against his healed skin. Even his eyes are shinning when they meet Merlin's and even though he would like to reach out and drag Merlin into the deeper water, he knows that baby steps are required in cases such as this. She does, after all, have a deathly fear of this element.

"You can relax, you know," Arthur teases her, seeing her shoulders come up to her ears when those slim arms coil around her chest, "because I'm not going to let anything happen to you. You hear?" Reaching out tenderly, his comely smile doesn't fade as he takes grip of her arms and pulls them off her. Settling them to kiss the surface of the water with her palms, Arthur lets go of her wrists that are mere twigs in comparison to his own meatier flesh. "I'm going to teach you how to swim, Merlin," his hand runs across the water, urging that Merlin do the same, "Become friends," he asks of her, his fingers dipping into the pool of thin honey, running them from left to right. "Can't you feel it?" Arthur states quite vaguely, wanting Merlin to fabricate her own reason for either trusting or distrusting this here lake. She is with him though so Arthur is certain she will learn to love to swim once she is taught how to.

Once she is comfortable, Arthur takes a step closer to her, arriving at her side, "Now lay back against the water," his palm presses to the small of her back, urging her onwards, "Trust me, remember? Just tilt yourself backwards and I'll take care of the rest." And sure enough, after a glaring flicker of a stare from Merlin, she complies to his wishes, her body tensing against his hand. He holds her above the surface, one arm underneath her legs and the other around her back. "Just relax. You'll sink of you tense up." Staying in the shallower end of the pool, Arthur wiggles his feet into the wet sand and against the rocks of the bottom as he gently takes her through the water like a boat parting the waves. "Close your eyes and just let the water rest against every single one of your muscles." Then Arthur looks down at Merlin, damn, he shouldn't have done such a thing. Noticing that she is topless again, his fingers feeling the bareness of her skin, he swallows nervously and immediately turns his brown eyes to the landscape. His chest feels tight but he attempts to breathe normally, having to slow his breath so he doesn't give himself away. But this lake is so quiet, only the security of the wind rustling through the tall grasses to sing to them.

 

[Kaisaan]

"I hate you so much right now." she mutters to Arthur, but tries to do as he asks, breathing out slowly and making her muscles uncoil. She finds herself starting to retreat mentally, as she did when tortured and stops herself, eyes flying open to stare mostly unseeing at the blue sky above. No, no...this isn't something to fear. Different technique. The healer searches through those available and eventually comes upon distraction. Her eyes flutter closed again and she bites her a lip as she lets her mind drift. She becomes aware of all her senses, of the wind that rustles through the trees, the gentle lapping of the lake on the shore, Arthur's suddenly hitched breathing - not sure what that is about, but she moves on. She can smell the forest around her, the man holding her and she realizes that that particular scent is more comforting than she at first realized. She can taste a trace of salt from sweat on her tongue as she catches it from her upper lip and she can feel Arthur's nearness, his arms and hands beneath her becoming a sole focus, comforting and strangely electrifying all at once.

An image comes to mind, unbidden, of when he'd risen up from the lake just a few minutes ago and Merlin smiles just a bit even if she doesn't mean to. She's never been involved with any man, but she can appreciate them and Arthur....what is not to appreciate? She can still see every detail, every drop of water that slid down his skin, every chiseled muscle and well-earned scar. She feels a strange tension in her stomach, almost like the kind she gets when nervous or scared, but it feels just a little different and Merlin opens her eyes, banishing the mental picture because it seems to be doing the opposite of helping her relax.

Her dark blue eyes move to Arthur's face then and she lets her fingers trail through the water as he moves. She purposely does not look around for where he's taking her, trusting him. Make friends with the water. Well, she and water had never really been enemies until about six years ago, but she supposes he's right. She's never been overly fond of water and now she avoids it at all costs. It's time to change that. Everything else around her is changing, this would only make sense to change as well. She can't be afraid anymore, not if she's going to be everything she needs to be for Arthur.

And it's that thought right there that suddenly makes Merlin determined to learn this. She couldn't care less about learning it for herself. That is a major flaw - a worry, too, when someone finally notices - in Merlin's character; she doesn't care about herself. She doesn't care what risk there is to her own body or life if it will benefit someone else for her to be hurt. She doesn't learn or do things just for herself. Even running had been to protect Arthur. She will learn to swim because it could help Arthur. No other reason.

"You know, you teach me to swim, and I'll have to teach you to use a bow."

 

[Vacyr]

"You can hate me all you want," Arthur whispers down to her, not wanting to ruin the solace of the moment too much. She has her eyes closed and Arthur feels obligated to stare down at her. The warm sunlight catches her face, his own muscles tightening at exactly how angelic she looks. It's as if she is in a peaceful sleep, the curve of the smile causing his own to mimic hers. Whatever she might be thinking of, he doesn't have a single clue, it must be helping her. In the next moment, his fingers twitch underneath her and her eyes snap open. The Prince immediately, as fast as a bolt of lightening, turns his attention back to the shoreline and where he is stepping. He doesn't think their eyes met but the more he thinks upon it - Merlin finding him staring at her - the more worried he becomes. Clearing his throat, he moves on, thinking that's the best approach.

But his eyes cannot stay away for long, her sweet words coming to his ear. The bow... he mentally groans, his smile faltering upon his glinting face. His blonde hair has been pushes backwards behind his ears, the denseness of the water keeping it in place until the straw-like tendrils dry. "You're letting your mind think of too many things, Merlin." Arthur warns her, not saying anything about her offer at teaching him how to use the bow, "I can feel your body become heavier underneath my fingers, expanding with this worry. Can't you meditate? Close your eyes and just do so," Arthur believes he is firm enough in his words for Merlin not to bring up the bane of his existence - the bow. No matter how hard he tries, he can hardly shoot the damn thing and if he is so lucky, there is no way in hell he is aiming it at one spot and hitting his target.

Walking around the perimeter of the silken pool, Arthur comes upon the spot where their clothes are soaking up the sunlight. With a grinning smile, looking down at Merlin's close-eyed face, he slowly releases her from his grasp. His intentions are that she will be in such deep meditation that she will simply float away from him. Of course he won't let her float out of his arms reach, incase she needs saving. But what he expects his hardly what comes next. All he hears is the splashing of unsteady water, Merlin's voice coming out in swift curses aimed at him. Then his body feels warm, a set of arms clinging around him, legs latching onto whatever they can out of fear she might drown.