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Chapter Text

It was ironic to know that there were lots of people who wished selfishly for an eternal life, to live forever to the end of time, to never age and never turn to dust. But for someone who has experienced what true immortality was. The loneliness …It was something Merlin would never wish for anyone. What use does an eternal soul have if you must endure it alone? Eventually, you get tired of it. With given time, you’d start daydreaming for your soul to return to the earth. 

You’d hope for your time to finally end.

What is one but a man, if your existence is reigned by such an ambiguous concept as Death? — What were again the laws living beings in their world had to attend to, to be considered alive, again ? Ah, yes. Born, grow, reproduce, die.

What was Merlin then, when he was missing one out of four of those concepts? Easy, simplified concepts to help identify a living creature from a lifeless object. Was he like Nimueh once said, simply a creature of the Old Religion? Like the Sidhe, Dragons, Griffins, Pixies, and many other magical creatures he had come across in his life, some more rational than others, some others lacking any kind of critical thinking like humans did, creatures that no non-magic blades could harm. Creatures made of raw, pure magic. Merlin was born from a woman without magic, his other parent being a Dragonlord, an entirely different race forced to the edge of extinction once, and then again –Merlin was truly the last dragonlord–, so what was he exactly, if he wasn’t human?

He liked to believe that despite the magic flowing through their veins, those like him were as human as any other. But after coming across many others with magic, and finding out how different his own magic was from theirs, the doubts didn’t stop forming in his head. Was he a monster, like some would believe, was he a beast of some king, or was he perhaps simpy an ancient creature born from a non-magical human? 

What exactly deprived him from dying? From aging? Was it his magic, or something else? Some kind of petty deity that thought it would be fun to torment him with Immortality? Was Merlin cursed?

Merlin has come across multiple opinions, beliefs and thoughts about grief and death itself, some think of it as merely returning to the earth, nothing left of oneself. Others, however, believe on the existence of souls, which once one’s mortal body came to the time of its passing, would leave the body and– That’s where people agreed to disagree, some believing in the Heaven, and Hell, and that that was where the soul went to depending on their actions while alive in the mortal plane, others said the soul would return to the earth. In some cultures, the soul would enter the cycle of Reincarnation, to be reborn with a new face and life, after being judged from their previous life and choices. 

He wanted to believe he wouldn’t be alone for all eternity.

Camelot expanded and flourished for a century, even after Arthur’s death, under Gwen’s reign. She was a just and kind yet strong and reliable queen, and lived many years before she, too, passed away. Unbeknownst to Arthur, she had been pregnant before the Battle of Camlann, so the Pendragon’s legacy lived long once Gwen passed away and the throne was given to their daughter, and her sons after her. Generations after generations until the kingdom was lost to time. 

All of his friends died eventually, and he continued to watch them die as he roamed the earth as the eternal soul he was. The dragons returned to their former glory, and the magic users no longer being persecuted for what they were, and he made sure they all had sanctuaries to live safely in and learn, as he continued with his never-ending wait.

Fifteen hundred years and  invasions, sieges, colonizing, wars, plagues, later— There was no sight of Arthur. His king still remained in Avalon, on a deep, still un-ending slumber. Sometimes, Merlin caught himself wishing for some kind of major, tumultuous, event that would finally bring him back Arthur, and felt immediately felt bad for wishing, for hoping, that the peace the major part of the world was enjoying at the moment would end, that something would be waged and Arthur would wake up. It was so cruel, so unlike him to think like that, knowing that countless souls would be lost if something like that came to happen, and reprimanded himself after those moments. 

Merlin has had bad days– Lots of bad days , where he couldn’t bring himself to move, he couldn’t bring himself to eat, to drink water, to go outside. To live. The pressure of his failure too heavy on his shoulders, the guilt eating him alive from the inside, making his stomach turn, his throat close and his heart ache agonizingly painful. His eyes would sting with unshed tears, but he ran out of those a long time ago. What point was to cry when there was no way to bring him back? To bring all of them back? He just wanted to sleep, and hoped to never wake up, at least not until Arthur came back. How was Destiny so cruel to not allow him the same peaceful rest his king has? Or was it because Merlin didn’t deserve it, because he failed, because he took so many bad decisions– Terrible decisions, that led to his king’s inevitable death? It didn’t matter what he tried, how hard he tried to keep Arthur alive, to complete this destiny forced on him, was Arthur condemned to die because of his ineptitude? All the times he saved the prat, was he simply delaying the inevitable? 

He had no one to ask these questions to, nor one to speak to because all the people he’d speak to were dead . His mother, his dear mother who died in his arms in a peaceful sleep when her hair turned white and her body grew weak. Will, his best friend, who died saving Arthur’s life, put himself in danger to protect Merlin’s secret –If he had known what he does now , could he have saved him? Could he have saved anyone else who died in his arms? Could have saved Arthur? –. Gaius, who died not many years after Arthur, who died as something more than his guardian, or his uncle, but as a father to him. Lancelot…The only one who knew almost everything about Merlin, the only one who knew practically all his secrets, who had never shown any kind of fear, distrust or hate towards him and would instead appear amazed by his magic. 

If he had only been stronger, had the knowledge he had now, had he been smarter than he was then…Could he have saved everyone that he lost? Could have stopped Morgana from being eaten alive by fear, hatred and vengeance? If he had told her about his magic sooner, if he had provided her with the comfort he knew she needed, the understanding she longed for to see coming from anyone, to someone to tell her she wasn’t a monster and that she didn’t need to be afraid of her own powers, that her magic could be a source for good rather than evil. Merlin knows how much she failed her, and now he has to carry with the guilt of knowing that he’d have done something to help her. That he lost a dear friend, that Arthur lost a sister, because he was too afraid of telling anyone about his magic, because he trusted too much in the prophecies, which were nothing but interpretations of futures and unnecessary words of outcomes yet to occur. If he had only known better…

It’s too late now. How funny, right? All the magic in the world, and he couldn’t save anyone. All this power, and he was still useless. A nobody. 

Merlin was no stranger to rage, but the feeling was normally aimed at himself. He himself was the target of such hatred. It was no wonder he hated himself, when he was too certain of his failure, when he spent over a millenia with his thoughts alone. His memory wasn’t as clear as it used to be, there were fragments missing, coming in like flashes or blurry images from time to time, or in his dreams, but he forces himself to remember. Remember as much as he’d. Maybe that was his way of tormenting, of punishing himself for failing, being forced to remember all of the poor choices he made in his ancient years. 

Others would say that he did everything he could, and Merlin was sure that was a lie . Now, after centuries of learning, of using his magic freely, learning, studying, practicing , there was so much he could have done. So much he failed to do. So much.  

In recent years, magic started to die out as the world became more and more globalized, even those that had lived in his Sanctuaries were starting to pass and those that remained had little to no magic, simply generations and generations of the same people that once had strong, livid magic. Nothing good lasts, after all, and Merlin should know that very well. Magic became simply something coming from a fairytale, and Camelot became sorely a story of ancient times. Only Merlin remaining of those who knew it whole, no one else alive who had lived through then. No one to remember along him.

He traveled across the world, with magic and no magic, met all kinds of people, some he held a somewhat close relationship with. Others he just spoke to from time to time, trying to force himself to keep and don’t give up on life, but when one had all the time in the world…Was there anything else he could learn? He tried to be updated on the technological advances as best as he’d, learnt lots of different things about their world, did his own research, and spent his days reading or collecting artifacts from ancient times. Times he had lived through. When there was some kind of major event, like a natural disaster, a war or some kind of plague, he tried to help around as much as he’d. He remembers perfectly how in the XIX century those doings of his, secluded on a small country in Europe somehow gave him some kind of religion around him– Or well, some kind of being that could cure all ills, a deity, that came to pass through their land, and bless them with prosperous health and even wealth. 

Merlin had only cured three or four members of the townsfolk, and they decided to god-ify him. And it wouldn’t be the first time something like that happened, he gained all kinds of names throughout history every time he did something of the sort and word spread, ending with an entire town worshiping him. Just like the Druids had, but on a greater scale.

He didn’t believe he was a god, or a minor deity. But Emrys meant Immortal on the druidic tongue, and that might have been their way of naming the embodiment of Magic itself which, yes, could count as a deity. Deities were immortal, and extremely powerful, Merlin had met some from the Old Religion before, and their followers as well, but he didn’t want to consider himself one. For once in his life he wished to be Merlin, just Merlin. To have a normal life. 

Everytime a being with magic died, Merlin could feel how his body welcomed it with open arms. Human or not, their magic became one with Merlin’s, and that’s when he wondered– Was any of his magic truly his ? If so, what part was it? The prophecy may have forgotten to mention what being the embodiment of Magic itself truly entailed. 

Merlin’s mere existence was the way of the world to balance all the lives, magical lives lost during the Great Purge, it was the universe’s way of healing the earth. When Uther begun with the persecution of those with magic, all those lives, all those souls had nowhere to go, since the balance had been disrupted in such a non-natural way that they didn’t have a way of returning to the earth. Their magic became the source of their living experiences, their will to live, their hatred, their hope, their pain all in one, and such strong feelings had nowhere to go, no one to turn to, not until Merlin was born. He was magic , and Magic was he. The Druids had gotten that part right. Emrys was the embodiment of Magic, yes, but as well of those lost souls, those whose lives were so cruelly taken by other’s hands, he was made of their magic, yes, but also of their convictions, their determination, their hope, as well of their pain, their fear and their agony.

Emrys was a way of the Universe giving those lost souls a place to go to, a way of giving them a chance of living once more, a chance of amending the wrongs done to them and their kind. He was them, and they were he now. 

Sometimes, Merlin can swear he hears their voices, that he feels the buzz of magic that isn’t entirely his flowing in his veins. Sometimes he feels hundreds of presence accompanying him. Sometimes…It is like he is not alone in his mind. The thought is as creepy as it is oddly comforting, and Merlin finds it hard to understand, how his magic feels so alive, how he feels so connected to the world, to the planet’s very core. To all the magic living in the plants, water, plants and the very same air he breaths, and the Elements, as damaged as they were nowadays, had accompanied him on all the nights he couldn’t sleep, all the nights he spent sitting on the shore of Avalon, waiting. And waiting, and waiting.

Because that’s all he does; Wait. It was frustrating, it was draining. He was tired, so, so tired.

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t tired. He was exhausted. There was nothing more he longed for than rest. The type of rest that only death could provide him with. But this damned body of his– His magic, would simply not let him die. Even if he tried to drown himself in the lake, there would be something, a force of some kind , pushing back to the shore. Fire did him no harm. Falls did nothing but break his body. Even if he tried, his magic would piece him back together every time. 

Yes, he had thought about ending his life. He had all the time in the world to do so, when he felt that he was keeping up for nothing, that there was no guarantee Arthur would come back, and even if he did come back, he’d probably die again. Eventually, Arthur would die once again, like any other mortal, and Merlin would be stuck waiting for him forever– Until the end of time, until he died. But he couldn’t die, no matter what he did he would not stay dead. His magic simply wouldn’t let go of him.

There were days that he doubted the prophecy had been real at all. That maybe they got it all wrong and Arthur wasn’t the Once and Future King. That maybe there had never existed someone like that in the prophecy, maybe the prophecy wasn’t true at all.

Maybe Merlin’s existence had only been the Universe’s way of balancing this out, to give all that lost, roaming magic a body to live in. Perhaps he was merely the whim of the gods. A whim of the circumstances. As civilizations were– So fragile, under an illusion of eternity, that would end up falling and leaving room for another one to rise in its place, in a never ending loop. Merlin had witnessed it all. 

Maybe he was cursed to never rest as he watched the end of the world. The end of all magical around him. Witness as it all perished under Time’s cruel grasp, all but him left to hopelessly roam like a misplaced ghost condemned to a lifetime of roaming the world that once it had formed part once. 

Merlin might have been the only part of the prophecy that was true.

He wondered if, as it did with other magical creatures they had faced –And Arthur, his mind supplies grimly-, Excalibur could put an end to his existence too. But knowing his luck, Merlin was probably even immune to a blade furnished in a dragon’s breath, since not even the flames of a dragon could harm him now. There was probably nothing in this world that’d kill him.

And where he should be finding happiness and relief from that fact, he found nothing but frustration. Sometimes, he dreamt of his death. Others, he dreamt of Camelot and a life completely different to his own. Sometimes, he dreamt of growing old and forming a family. 

He opened his eyes to find himself stuck to an unending loop until the end of time. 

This day wouldn’t be different, as he stood on the shore facing the sea, a quiet and commonly unexplored part of the world he didn’t bother to know the name of, simply staring at the tides colliding against the beach, mind deprived from any important thoughts, trying to enjoy the feeling of the cold salty water on his barefoot feet. The horizon and ocean was beautiful as the waters took a gorgeous cerulean tone from the sky, mimicking one of his eyes. The sound of the sea and the wind filled his ears. 

Then he heard a voice behind him, “Emrys” — They, or rather, she , called and he jumped where he was standing, having not heard anyone calling him by that name in centuries, and he turned. The figure in front of him was a woman with long dark hair and blue eyes, who strongly resembled Hunith, and Merlin felt his stomach curl in disgust at the thought. I swear to god that if a magical creature took my mother’s face I’ll go nuts– He thought dryly. 

Not being able to hold back the dry response forming in his throat, he snapped almost unconsciously before he could even comprehend the words leaving his mouth. Almost a snarl. “Who are you, what do you want and how do you know that name?” The woman took a step forwards towards him, and Merlin instinctively couldn’t help but call out the old Sidhe staff he had carried with him from where it was abandoned in the sand, his hold on it strong and posture giving away a warning to her. Fortunately, she stopped and stared at him from afar.

“I mean you no harm.” Her voice sounded oddly like silk, and the maternal tone he’d heard in it made him uncomfortable, not used to such treatment after his mother died. “And could I have not known your name” she paused, blue eyes glued to his, “When is it I who gave you to humanity, my Blessing. How could I not when I am your Mother in all but blood?” 

Merlin couldn’t help but lower the staff a little in his confusion and stupor, furrowing his eyebrows as he tried to process her words. And he couldn’t hold back the growl, “I have a Mother, and it was certainly not you. She passed away centuries- a millennia ago.” 

The woman’s face softened, a tiny smile forming in her garnet-colored lips, “You look so tired, My Child.” 

He doesn’t know what made him unconsciously relax under her gaze. Was it the look in her eyes, the expression she was making, or her energy surrounding him, so similar to his? “Well, that’s what fifteen hundred years does to someone.” he couldn’t help but muster, taking a pause before the scowl in his face returned, “ Who are you and why are you calling me ‘your child’ and yourself ‘my mother’?”

The strange lady hummed, her eyes widening only slightly before she replied, “I am who created you. My child, who I would give the world to soothe the poor souls roaming the earth, a home to return to, and a way to live through your eyes. A way to Albion. The blessing only a few knew to appreciate. My little Miracle.” 

Now that he saw she might not be a threat to him he lowered the staff and let it rest beside him, yet still clutched in his grasp in case he needed to defend himself, almost instinctively. “What do you want?”

She lowered her head only slightly, her gaze never leaving him in an unyielding eye-contact, “I come with two offers to give you, young one” He almost snorted at the last two words, because Merlin was everything but young now. One thousand, five hundred thirteen years old should he be at the moment with the beginning of the new year, to be exact, but he remained in silence, and she continued, “I’ve seen how you have suffered, and the dark on your eyes getting stronger and stronger with each passing century. I know how tired you are.”

Without being able to hold himself back, he snarled, “You know nothing of me. If you are who created me, why? What were you expecting of me?” The knot in his throat was starting to get painful, “Why did you make me like this? What were you expecting to achieve with it? What other purpose does my existence serve than housing those souls? What am I supposed to do now? You don’t have an idea of how tiring this is. I failed to unite- create Albion, so…” 

Why am I still alive? – Remaining unspoken, but lingering in the air between them.

Merlin could see how she pursed her lips and listened to his outburst with not even a single noise leaving her, remaining still as her white dress swayed with the wind. “It brings me no happiness the torment the conditions of your immortality has brought you, son of mine. It was never under my control just how much magic your body would house, nor how many lives would be lost and entrusted within you. Magic was intended to condense and take a mortal body, your immortality wasn’t something I planned to achieve. I failed to foresee how magic would affect you, that it’d turn you into a minor deity.”

He gave a low, humorless laugh at her words, blinking away tears welling up in his eyes, “So not even you can tell me why I am like this.” Or what’s the purpose of my existence?

She didn’t answer, but she didn’t have to because he knew the answer already. A whim of the circumstances, that’s what he was. Nothing more, nothing else. Silence filled the air between them and he decided to ask, recalling something about some offers, “What kind of offers were you referring to?”

It wasn’t like he had anything else left to lose…

“I am aware that you’ve been losing faith, Little Miracle.” she mused. “I must assure that your King will come back, just not yet. That’s why I offer you a choice to make as part as my first offer. ” He peered up at that, shocked to hear and almost moved to tears when he heard that Arthur would come back in the end, and he hoped he wouldn’t have to wait too long to see him, so he gave a curt nod as encouragement to continue. Willing to hear her out. “I propose to you a way of resting along with your King until he awakens.”

His breath hitched– He had to be dreaming or something, right? He- he would have an opportunity to rest beside Arthur and wait for him to wake up, a way of sleeping without a stop until he did. He’d finally rest. “However,” She started and he deflated. Why do these things always come with a counterpart? “— I can’t assure you Arthur Pendragon will remember you when he does. He might not remember anything, or not awake at all. Whether he does or not isn’t under my control, Avalon doesn’t seem to be willing to give him up, at least not yet.”

Merlin could do nothing but nod, tempted to accept so he could rest , but something inside of him grimaced at the idea, and pushed him to ask what the second offer entailed. “What about the second offer?”

He saw the ghost of a smile gracing her lips before they went back into a tight line, but he couldn’t discern if it had been his imagination or not so he didn’t press. “My other offer, would give you a second chance, an opportunity to make amends– if you wish, or to start anew, in that world you left behind. In that ancient age you outlived.” Merlin felt his eyes widen, and his heart beat hard against his ribcage, inside his chest, and his stomach curled, although not in disgust. 

Was this…Was this hope what he was feeling?

Was a part of him wishing for it to be what he thought it was? “You- you are saying t- that-” his voice died out, his mouth suddenly feeling extremely dry. The other gave a nod, and her eyes were so undeniably gentle as she watched his eyes fill with tears once again. 

He had not felt hope or thrill in centuries.

“I propose you a chance to go back, if you wish, with a few conditions of course. Conditions that are out of my command, and I must warn you, that if you refuse, I won’t be able to do it again. Time is an unstable, unpredictable thing that shouldn’t be messed with, but this is my last gift, this time for you , my child.” 

Go back in-

“What-” he gulped saliva, and paused to collect himself, “What are the conditions?”

“I will put you into a time similar to yours, but since your existence is particularly… Unique, there can’t exist two of you at the same time, that’s why you have to become an entirely different being to the Merlin of that timeline, who has yet to be born. You must choose a entirely different name for yourself, your soul shall remain the same, and with it, your heart. You will still be Emrys, because that’s who you are, but you won’t be Merlin anymore, at least not the Merlin you were . Your future will become your past, and your past your present. The future will remain unknown and for you to change.”

As he tried to process her words, she waited patiently until Merlin recovered from all the tumultuous emotions swirling around inside of him, trying to keep a hold of his magic which was buzzing under his skin. Hopeful, impatient. “The…The Merlin you refer to, will he still have magic? Would the prophecy still speak of him?”

The woman titled her head at his question, “He should. But the prophecy shouldn’t be able to affect him any more. Otherwise, it’ll remain the same. ‘Emrys, the most powerful sorcerer to walk the earth, shall be the one to help the Once and Future King unite Albion and bring back the magic to the world, the golden age should still come.’ ” He winced at the familiar words, he couldn’t help but feel disgust at it. But if he could keep that pressure from his other self, then so be it.

Hold on– He stopped himself. Was he really about to accept? He was tired , what use would he be of? If he tried to make amends, he might mess it up more, he might do more harm than good. 

But…I’ve nothing left to lose. Whether I accept it or not. What else do I have? 

If there was only one chance of making things right…He- Merlin found he wanted to try , he wanted to see if he’d make things right, he wanted to redeem himself and give his dear ones the future they deserved, he wanted to do better for those he wronged with his ineptitude, inaction and his ignorance. He wanted to give his people, the people he abandoned and failed then, the future they deserved, the peace they wished for. What little hope remained inside of his heart, what little faith that was still inside him- He wanted to live again.

(When has he first stopped to live and started to lose himself?)

“Will I…Will I remember everything if I accept? What will happen to this timeline when I am gone?”

“This wasn’t attempted before, so I am afraid I don’t have the answer you seek for. Yet you should be able to remember most of what happened in this one. But no one can ever know who you really are, or where you come from. You will no longer be the Merlin you were. You will be someone entirely different, with almost the same weight on your shoulders.”

“What about Arthur?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“The Once and Future King should remain the same.”

Okay , he breathed. He- he is really about to do this?

Will he be enough to do something? To truly change things for better?

“I-” he hesitated for a second, “I, I accept. I accept the conditions and your offer.”

There was no change in her expression, but he could see something akin to pity and disappointment in her eyes, like she had expected him to pick the first offer instead, but she- the Goddess of Magic, he suspects, schooled her expression automatically after, so he wasn’t sure she felt that way, “So be it. There will be no other opportunity, my child. Do you have in mind the name you shall use to live anew?”

He gave it a thought, and after a few minutes, a smile made its way across his face at the inner joke he had with himself, and very according to the stories and retelling of Merlin and what he was supposed to be in some tales or another. And then he nodded.

Avery

– Elf King, sounds like a funny name for oneself.

Arthur would probably laugh if he knew.

“Keep that name close to your heart, in that case. And I hope things turn out better for you, my child.” she vanished, but he could still hear her in his mind, like her voice was carried by the wind.

.

‘Shall the past, your new present, be kind to you. May you find peace and glory, and the strength to live anew. May you be able to live past your former mistakes and amend what is broken, let remain what isn’t and won’t be. Shall you find the answers within yourself. May you follow your heart and do what's right. For you, for them, for Albion, and the future you’ll build.

May you find the happiness you can’t now, my child. I shall watch you from the sky.’

.

Chapter Text

The next thing Merlin remembers is the feeling of water around himself, like he was drowning in a bottomless lake, or simply floating around in nothingness, his magic buzzing in his ears, sounding as if it was assuring him, whispering sweet nothings into his mind. He was no stranger to this kind of situation, since he had found himself in such a few times throughout his unending life— Let’s just say that…The Lake of Avalon might have seen too much of him, on those bad days he was so accustomed to having from time to time, or when he needed a quiet place to think -The modern era wasn’t exactly quiet , not at all, it had stopped since the first Industrial Revolution. Days in the city were everything but peaceful, even for someone used to Camelot and her loud inhabitants–. Even with his eyes closed, he’d tell he was in a Lake with an ingrained magical signature, an extremely familiar magical signature, one he knew well.

The Lake of Avalon, magic wild and unrestrained– Natural.

‘To live again, one must die and start anew’

That’s the words he remembers her saying before everything vanished instantly around him, he remembers the cold of the waters as he made his way inside. ‘Avalon shall act as a mirror between this world and the other, and may be the gate through which you shall cross to begin anew.’

Merlin recalls that he probably died and his magic brought him back, healing any damage done to him, and piecing back together part by part anything that had been broken. It was then that he felt a force of some kind, probably his magic, or Avalon’s own, pushing him upwards to the surface, and the moment his head was out of the water, he took a sharp intake of breath, gasping as the cold air of the surrounding forest hit him in the face, water dripping from his hair and face, heaviness leaving his body now that he was free from the pressure. When Merlin opened his eyes, he was welcomed with the sight of the forest surrounding the Lake of Avalon, a sight he was very well used to. 

However, it wasn’t the sight he had grown to hate for the last few centuries, one that still haunted him at the thought of how many living creatures had to flee the area, forced by the humans and their damned roads and cars of theirs, no, this was the sight he missed, the scenery he had yearned to see since it changed so much. It was the Lake of Avalon yet to be concealed, yet to be reduced to a mere tourist attraction, to one of the hundreds bodies of water that spread across London and Europe on itself, from England to France, to France to Italy and from Italy to Poland, as unimportant as those were, a mere lake without any kind of importance more than the one coming from glorified fairytales recalling an era long gone from the memories of men, long forgotten and cast aside.The Lake of Avalon before him was one in its utmost glory and magnificence, in all its strength and magic. 

At the sights of the palace a little far from there, he couldn’t help but let go of a slightly maniac laugh, there were tears forming at the edge of Merlin’s eyes, and he pressed a hand against his mouth to conceal the sobs threatening to leave his throat in such a pitiful cry. He was truly back, this had to be a dream, right? He was- He was back.

Camelot stood in all her glory in the distance, a imponent white building with her tall walls and towers, light could be seen even from here. She was full of life, the city had yet to perish at the hand of time, when in future only a few sections of the structure remained, corrosion eating her alive from the inside and destructing her walls and stairs, destroying every brick and every single thing out of its way. The pale, white ghost he was used to seeing was no more. This also meant a lot of things to him that clicked in his mind.

He wasn’t sure what year it was, but as he made his way out of the lake, he let his magic explore far towards Camelot, finding then a certain old friend, caged under the citadel, chained and forced to wait until he rotted away, deprived of his once great power and reduced to a mere beast– A trophy , merely kept to force a example to those that dared to defy Uther Pendragon. He’d feel Kilgharrah’s familiar magic, fading away almost out of disuse. Merlin immediately thought of himself, stuck waiting for his king to come back to him, alone and trapped and felt rage boiling in his stomach, quickly replaced by pity and anguish, empathy towards his old friend. He made a silent vow then.

Once he was sure what year it was, and asked some things around, he’d do something he should’ve done earlier if he had been given the chance. He was going to amend the first wrong he met when he arrived in Camelot in that first life of his.

Merlin was going to put an end to Kilgharrah’s imprisonment, and the Great Dragon would be free again, to roam the earth as he pleased. He’d be reunited with his kin. As long as he didn’t try to destroy Camelot –As much as he wished to hand Uther to the dragon to let justice be served, he is well aware letting a magical being kill the king would do more harm than good. He deeply disliked Uther, Merlin had too many mixed feelings about the man, but he was certain Arthur loved him despite his father’s clear flaws, and his father getting killed because of magic would make it convince him that magic could be a force for good way more difficult–, he’d be free to leave. 

He and Kilgharrah had a few falling outs, but now, after being alive for so long and seeing the dragon depart from their world, he only could remember the other fondly. Since he was the only Merlin knew could understand what was like being alive for centuries and watching as your loved ones died around you, while you helplessly remain like a shadow of who you used to be, alone and forgotten by history for decades –Centuries, over a millenia in Merlin’s case–. Knowing that, there was no way Merlin could let the other rot in that cave for longer, and he’d find he understood Kilgharrah’s reaction once he freed him the first time, he had seen his family, his kind be slaughtered in such a cruel and unjust way, he watched as he became the last of his kind, betrayed at the prospect of a false intention of making peace with him and the Dragonlords left by Uther Pendragon, and not content with that he was chained down on a cave under the castle, not even being able to see the light or know whether it was day or night, no way of knowing just how much time he spend there alone, waiting on a prophecy as the only thing the dragon could hold onto, hoping for Merlin’s arrival at Camelot, so he wouldn’t be as alone with someone of his kin there with him, for twenty years . Of course he’d crave revenge the moment he was free, it didn’t excuse how many innocent lives he took then, but Merlin found he understood.

Kilgharrah had considered he had nothing left to lose, so why wouldn’t he take revenge against a kingdom whose King persecuted his kind and slaughtered them? How could he not seek punishment upon his jailor? Merlin couldn’t blame him for that, but he always thought there was always a choice on that matter, and that Kilgharrah could do much good instead of drowning in hatred for Uther and vengeance. He had wondered if now that his father was supposedly alive –Oh god, his dad was still alive–, and he wasn’t the same Merlin, his powers as a dragonlord would remain the same. But one check inside his body and he’d feel, almost touched with his magic, the pulsing flame that united him with the dragons as kin; The dragon heart inside of him continued to beat as strong as it once did, no changes for that matter.

However, one look towards the water in the lake, as he cleaned his hands from the mud they got when he climbed out of the lake, and he explored his reflection with his eyes, an inaudible gasp leaving his mouth in awe. He resembled strongly the body he had then, but his face was entirely different, the sharp cheekbones he was used to see weren’t as prominent and noticeable as his were, his dark hair was longer and straighter, curls he surely got from his mother in his first life were gone, replaced by long strands of dark brunette hair. His eyes were a new shade of blue, tone close to a slightly dark gray, totally different from his dark blue eyes he used to have. The changes weren’t as clear, aside the sight of a few freckles here and there around his pale face, and a few other features like one or two moles, one below his right eye, and the other, way smaller, on his cheek. 

Despite the changes being quite subtle, he couldn’t help but raise a hand to his face and pass it along his cheek, trying to get used to this face, one that would be his from now on. New face, different name and a new identity.

A new life— Merlin truly wasn’t the same person he used to be. He changed a lot throughout the years, even before Arthur’s death, he found himself changing -whether for good or bad, that remains unknown to him–  as the pressure of the weight of the prophecy and expectatives on his shoulders got heavier and heavier with every new year that passed. It was a burden he had to carry with since even before he made it to Camelot the first time, maybe for his whole life. This time, however, he wouldn’t stay as hidden as before, he had the power to do many great things, and he won’t stand still like he did before out of fear, horrified by the thought of being discovered, that his secrets would be revealed for every one to see, that Arthur would hate him and exiled him from the kingdom, even execute him for treason, a behavior he was stuck with after the countless time he was told to hide, that his mother told him that he had to hide what he was, feeling like his magic was something bad or something he’d be ashamed of. No, Merlin wasn’t going to stand and watch as other people, his people , suffered because of his fear. 

They didn’t deserve to suffer because he decided to bury himself with so many secrets. That was his own burden to carry, his to blame. 

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First things first, he needed to dry his clothes, and use his magic to create some things he could use as alibi in case he ran into a Camelot patrol and they asked what was he doing in the terrains close to the castle, and what was his business coming to Camelot. As he casted a quick spell to dry his clothes and heat himself from the cold biting his skin, he carefully threaded the story he’d tell people if they asked, it was quite simple, since a complicate tale would raise suspicion or he’d end up forgetting a few parts of it and making a mess of his mind, which would automatically get him caught in the lie; For the time being, he was a roaming traveler from a small nameless village near the Northern Plains to Camelot, simply wishing to stay the night before taking off to resume his travels.

To make it more credible he used a piece of his tunic to turn it into a leather bag with a quick transmutation spell he had learnt, which came in handy when he needed to make anything to store his stuff in the long run. The spell should hold for as long as he wished for and wouldn’t drain his magic to keep it up, and once he had picked some herbs that he was sure would be useful for him, he decided to pass by the lower town and go to the market, deciding to buy a few things. He had stored a few coins from this time and saved them as a mere trinket to reminisce the time he had long since outlived, and it seems such small possession remained with him –the implications of that be damned, he still didn’t understand where this body he was living in now came from exactly– so with the pouch of money in his left hand, he approached the first merchant to purchase some things to prepare something to eat later on.

It was so weird, and he felt slightly uncoordinated with his feet, like his brain was struggling to get used to this new body of his. He was still trying to process the events of the last few days, it was almost like everything he lived had been a simple dream, or that he was dreaming now , that nothing of this was real and that he had finally gone insane. 

But this was real, right? The brush with other people as he made his way through the busy streets he knew very well, the sound of people chatting around him, of people selling their merchandise, children playing— This was real. It had to be. 

He barely registered that he was next in line to buy, at least not until the man from the stall addressed him, and Merlin had vague memories of having seen him before in his first life. The man seemed friendly enough, and greeted him with a smile, “Ah, a traveler, huh? New in Camelot? What can I get for you?” 

Merlin returned the smile to him and spared the other’s stock a glance to decide what he wanted to buy before replying, “Not exactly.” he chuckled awkwardly, it had been a long time since he had spoken with anyone from this era and his accent and talking mannerisms had changed quite a lot throughout history and all the places he had visited, learnt the languages from. “This is my first time in the city, however.” The man took what he indicated and quickly put it for him to take. 

“Welcome to Camelot, then! These are busy days, traveler. So I am afraid the nearest Inn will be full of guests all across the kingdom.” He said absently as he received the money and watched as Merlin took all the things he bought in his bag. 

His words got his attention, and he faced the merchant again, “Oh, how so?”

“It’s our Prince’s birthday!” The man replied, beaming at him, “He is turning fourteen summers, there’ll be a feast in his honor, and a duel organized by our King tomorrow!”

Merlin paused and felt his whole body froze at that. Arthur was turning fourteen, he was five years earlier to the events he remembers from the first time he came to Camelot. It was Arthur’s birthday— He couldn’t help but wonder how he was feeling at the moment…He is well aware of how much his king despises having to celebrate the anniversary of his birth, and Merlin recalls darkly how…Frustrating, Uther became close to this date. And he knows perfectly why, the reason behind his loathing towards this celebration, it seemed he didn’t think the day his mother died giving birth to him was a cause to throw a feast.

Uther certainly didn’t think so either, with how much work he made Arthur do during his birthday, and that he probably threw the party simply because they needed to save appearances with the other kingdoms and noblemen of the Court.

It’d be, however, the perfect cover to break Kilgharrah out. Guards would be too busy doing other things to pay too much attention to the entrance to the cave Kilgharrah was chained in. 

It wasn’t exactly a good birthday present for Arthur, but it’d surely be a good excuse to interrupt the celebrations and not have to endure the dull feast. 

Merlin would like a ‘thank you’ in return from his pratness, but he had to remind himself he was a totally different person at the moment.

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Just like he thought, making his way around Camelot was a easy as it used to be when he was younger, it was funny the way he’d fool the guards so easily and roam around the castle undetected. He was a little rusty in his stealth abilities, but with help of his magic and a few silly and small spells he made his way to the catacombs easily, feeling the rise of Kilgharrah’s magic, which told him his old friend had felt his presence and waited for him.

Merlin stood in the entrance of the cave with a beaming ball of light floating behind him conjured by his magic, illuminating his way down the staircase and to the cave, opening the iron door with a quick “ Oncluce þe! ” under his breath. The flap of wings got his attention next, and he stood facing the giant dragon with dark scales settling on the rock where he normally rested on, staring at the warlock with a curious glint on his golden eyes, clearly interested and confused because of his presence. He was clearly trying to discern what to do with him, if eat him or burn him alive, but preferred to wait as he debated his future decisions, and Merlin couldn’t help but scoff internally at that, knowing his old friend too well.

Kilgharrah and he stared at each other for a while, as Merlin smiled under the hood of his dark tunic, “I believe,” he started with that amused voice of his, “—That the party might be upstairs”. Merlin chuckled at his words, so it was true no one would be able to tell who he was at first glance, not even the Great Dragon.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked, interested in what the answer would be. Could he tell that he was Emrys right away, or would he feel like something was odd about him and his magic? Normally magical creatures could feel his magic and identify him immediately, claiming his presence was too unique to be mistaken for another. But at this time, Kilgharrah and he had yet to meet. The dragon glanced down at him, narrowing his eyes, “Emrys.” he declared, voice low and rumbling. “You’re a bit early, I think. Quite a few years early, to be exact, to our meeting”

He chuckled softly, the ball of light floating around him, beaming brighter. “So you do recognize me.” 

Kilgharrah seemed to be in a good mood, as he replied to him in a similar way he did when they first met, in another life. “I had imagined you taller, I am afraid. But your magic is something that I would never dare to mistake for another. How small you are, for such a great destiny.”

Merlin put down the hood of his tunic down then, revealing his face to the dragon who stared straight at him with interrogating eyes, searching for something in his face, something that remained a mystery for him. “Then you must know what I am doing here” Kilgharrah didn’t seem to find whatever he was looking for in his expression, which remained completely relaxed, like he wasn’t standing in front of a mighty beast, a creature of the Old Religion. 

A loud rumble sound left the dragon’s throat, a little smoke flaring from his nostrils, eyes more narrowed as his gaze kept glued to him, “Perhaps I do. Have you come to release me from my imprisonment, young warlock?”

Oh, he thought and his smile widened, I forgot how cryptic you were, old friend. — The fondness he felt inside of him only intensified at the small banter between them he so much missed, “Perhaps.” He answered, a smirk forming in his mouth. “But you must first make a vow to me, that you won’t harm Camelot or her people.” 

The reaction was immediate, and Merlin was pretty much expecting a fireball to be thrown against him from the now angered dragon, who growled and scratched loudly the surface of the rock with his claws, tail snapping around and head rising, straightening from his previous position, “You would deny me of my revenge? Are you aware of what Uther Pendragon –” He spat the name with such venom Merlin hold back the urge to wince, it had been a while since he last saw his friend like this. Such a saddening sight. “–did to the rest of my kin and left only me? He hunted me down and caged me like an animal!” snarled, low and dangerous, warning Merlin of not angering him further. “Why should I pardon him and his pitiful excuse of a reign?! Overlook his crimes?!” A little fire came from his snout, and Merlin readied himself in the case he had to put up a barrier. 

Having expected this kind of outburst, knowing first hand how badly Kilgharrah managed rage when it came to the topic of Uther. “I’m not asking you to pardon his crimes, nor am I denying you anything, Great Dragon.” His tone is totally serene as he addresses the other, who isn’t happy in the slightest, but remains silent to listen to him. “I’m merely asking you to not attack Camelot. I’m giving you a choice. Do you really think Uther would come and place himself at your mercy, that he’d sacrifice his life for his kingdom, for his son ? He doesn’t even think that it’d be his mistakes coming back to explode in his face. You’d take innocent lives.” You could kill Arthur– Left unsaid but lingering in the air.

Scoffing, Kilgharrah merely let go a cloud of smoke through his mouth, “So be it. Even your race has suffered at his hands, warlock. It’d be wise if you did not dare defend him in my presence!”

Merlin sighed, having forgotten how frustrating Kilgharrah used to be, and still was in a way, that reptile. “I know you don’t really mean that. What of Arthur Pendragon? Do you think that destroying Camelot, his kingdom, his home , and then killing his father would do you, or me, any good?” Before the other could say anything, he shook his head, “You, and I, are no strangers to Uther Pendragon’s injustice. I’ve been on the run all my life, hiding, because of people like him , I know very well how you must feel–”

“YOU KNOW NOTHING!” the dragon roared, “I am the last of my kind! You might be the Emrys of the prophecy, and the young prince might be the Once and Future King, but that means nothing when Uther Pendragon still lives!”

“I know where dragon eggs are hidden.” He supplied, letting his words slowly settle down inside Kilgharrah’s mind as he assessed what he just said, and his face contorted into a snarl once more, replacing the surprise Merlin could see flash in his eyes. “And so? There’s no dragonlords left. Having dragon eggs means nothing without a dragonlord, you should know better than to go around spitting such madness, Emrys. Without a dragonlord, the eggs won’t hatch. ” 

“I know of one dragonlord that is still alive, and I even know where to find him.” He doesn’t quite remember the exact place because it has been so long since he last went there, when he collected his father’s things years after he died. But he recalls it was somewhere in Mercia. “His name is Balinor.”

He didn’t expect the reaction coming from Kilgharrah this time, he saw the rage flash through the dragon’s eyes, before he let go a growl so loud Merlin worried for a second a guard would come running down there or that the alarming bells would sound because of the other’s outburst. Kilgharrah spat a mouthful of fire towards him, but it simply collided against the barrier he had conjured, and vanished between sparks and smoke. “DON’T SPEAK THE NAME OF THAT TRAITOR IN MY PRESENCE!” So he blames Balinor for his imprisonment? Interesting. 

Merlin couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the other’s outburst, dismissing the barrier with a wave of his hand, “If you finished having a temper tantrum, you giant child . Balinor did not betray you, Uther lied to him and betrayed him too, he started a hunt against him and he had to flee. Others say he went to a small village in Essetír, before Uther’s men persecuted him there too.” 

“So what?! He left me here, to rot for the rest of my days! He is no different from Uther Pendragon! Betrayed by my own kin, now you come here, Emrys, to naively ask for my inaction. To ask me to let Uther live.”

Tired of this discussion, he spoke with a warning tone. The familiar force of the dragon tongue rumbling inside his chest and throat, “ Kilgharrah. ” 

At that, Kilgharrah’s eyes widened in shock, clearly taken aback by the sound of the dragon tongue coming from him; the prophecies didn’t mention anything of Emrys being a dragonlord either, so Merlin couldn’t blame him. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights, but he lowered his head submissively at the command clear in Merlin’s voice. Merlin sighed once again, allowing himself to relax now that the other seemed calmer, “I perfectly know how you feel,” Intoned, voice way more soft than before when he spoke in the dragon tongue, “It’s lonely, and you feel so infuriated, I can see it in your eyes. It angers me too, but I’m well aware that if I let you kill Uther Pendragon, his death at the hands of a magical creature, will only risk our future. It might harm this land, Albion might not exist. You’ll only prove how twisted and bloodthirsty magical creatures like us are, in the end.”

Silence prevailed between them, the whistle of the wind coming and swaying inside the cave, from some other kind of entrance or passage, was the only thing that could be heard for a few long minutes. Until Merlin spoke again, “I’ll release you.” Kilgharrah raised his head to look at him directly in his eyes, and he swore he saw mischief and rage still burning in his eyes, but he’d have none of that. “However… You won’t harm Camelot or her people. You will leave Camelot quiet and in peace. ”

Kilgharrah bowed his head to him, clearly unable to dismiss the direct command from a dragonlord in full control of his powers, and Merlin knows very well he can’t disobey him, even if he tried. And he knows that there is nothing Kilgharrah would want more than be able to do so. “As you wish, Dragonlord.”  

“It brings me no pleasure to have to command you, Great Dragon. But you leave me without a choice, and I’d like you to be present by my side the moment I restore ours and your kind to their former glory, the one they deserve,” Merlin gave the other a gentle, genuine smile, “For there are more dragonlords than I, or Balinor. If you’d help me, there will be more of you roaming the earth soon enough, Albion as the poets spoke of to behold in front of our eyes.”

Kilgharrah looked quite defeated, but he saw the glint of relief and happiness in his eyes, his expression seemingly softened. “I hope you’re not mistaken, young warlock.” 

Huffing, Merlin stares up at him with a solemn expression in his face, giving a curt bow, “I shall allow you to scare Uther a little before you leave.”

He raised the sword he had stolen from the armory, knowing that it was better if he had a weapon to break those chains, even though he was certain he’d tear them apart with the force of his magic only, it seemed they were enchanted with some kind of binding curse. He walked down the stairs and stared at the long, giant chain clinging from the dragon’s leg.

He raised the sword and conjured the spell he had once used before, a lifetime ago, he could feel the way Kilgharrah winced at the feeling of his magic, pulsing and filling the cave with such raw power that he was sure the people upstairs could feel it. “ Ic bebeode þisne sweord þæt hé forcierfe þá bende þæra dracan— Un clýse! ”

The roar Kilgharrah let go made the whole castle tremble under the force of his growl, but by the time the guards had gone to see what was going on, and the bells started to sound all over the city, Merlin was long gone.

Watching from afar as Kilgharrah circled around over the people of Camelot’s heads, before flying off somewhere unknown to him, Merlin couldn’t help but smile, knowing how panicked Uther Pendragon must’ve been seeing the mighty beast he once kept captured roam the sky, free to do as he pleased.

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Just like every dragon should be; Free.

Chapter Text

Needless to say, things in Camelot were incredibly chaotic after that night on the prince’s birthday celebration. In the middle of the feast, everything shook with a force no one had seen before, a small earthquake knocking off small things like cups and paintings framing the walls. It lasted for only a moment before the alarm bells started to ring all across the city and the knights were mobilized, but by the time one knew what was going on, everyone in the room could see the giant scaled creature circling the night sky above their heads. 

The Great Dragon had escaped. 

Most didn’t know there was such a beast chained down below the castle, those that weren’t around fourteen years ago when the Great Purge started had no clue about the trophy the King had stored away as a way to reminisce about the past. Everyone thought that dragons were completely extinct, and that they had been for over a decade, until now it seems. Now, they were preparing for the mighty creature to attack the citadel, but against all odds the Great Dragon had been seen flying over the castle a few times, like it wanted to be seen and spread panic amongst the people of Camelot, yet minutes later just flew away and left the city. What should’ve been a night of chaos, casualties and destruction, soon turned into the same quiet night moments prior to the beast’s escape. It felt like it was taunting them and no one slept that night.

Uther couldn’t sleep, waiting for the creature he had imprisoned to come back and destroy the city, waiting for it to come back for him, to take revenge as the petty creature he knew it was. And in the corner of his mind, a voice whispered that it was an omen of doom, that if the beast decided to attack, there was no way of defeating it. No weapon they possessed could do any harm to a dragon, least of all to the Great Dragon, the last of its kind, kept simply because of its natural immunity to any kind of weapon wielded by humankind. A way of proving those with magic that there was no future for them in Camelot, that there would never be a place within her walls or lands for those that practiced sorcery, not even for the creatures made of magic. 

Hours passed, night turning into day, the sun was shining bright over their heads and there were no signs of the dragon. But why would the beast decide to leave Camelot without wrecking havoc over the city? What kind of twisted game was the beast playing? 

“Sire, the dragon has been seen flying off towards the White Mountains.” A knight provided with the last seeings of the creature, standing in the throne room in front of the council, king and noblemen of the court, everyone present. 

Uther hesitated, face twisted with a mix of confusion and anger, furious at the prospect of his prize being free to roam Camelot, his kingdom. But those that knew him better could see a glint of nervousness flash across his eyes, concern noticeable in the way it accentuates the age lines in his forehead. “It does not make any sense…” He trailed off, eyes fretful as he exchanged looks towards the floor in front of him, the window and then those present in the throne room, before he focused his attention back to a different knight, “How did the beast manage to escape?” 

The alleged knight’s mouth opened and closed a few times, before he gulped and fought back against the urge of stuttering in the presence of his king, “I am afraid we don’t have a clue, your Majesty…No breaking-ins have been reported, there are no signs of a forced entry in the passage ways.” He enumerated, exchanging glances with the other knights accompanying him. 

“What do those in guard duty say?” Uther inquired then, supporting his weight on the back of his throne, clearly thinking this thoroughly. How could no one have seen anything strange? “The beast had no way of freeing itself on its own. Someone must’ve seen something.”

The knight, Sir Evrart, shook his head as an answer, “The guards saw and heard nothing. They were alerted by the beast’s roar that we all felt through in and out the citadel.” He then added after a minimal pause, “–My Lord.”

Uther held back a sigh, head low as he tried to think and process everything that had been said and trying to thread all the events of the prior night, it didn’t make any sense. It must’ve been someone that knew their way around the castle, that knew of the dragon caged below the citadel, that knew how to free it and that knew with the feast and busy days, there would not be as much security in the catacombs as normally. Someone that could make their way around and pass completely undetected, like a ghost. Like they were never there in the first place. It was like– 

Sorcery. There was no other way, no normal person could do something like that. Of course it would be a sorcerer who would be bold enough to dare break into his kingdom, his castle and free the Great Dragon, that had the rotten power to fool his knights and guards, to come and leave completely undetected. To deceive their eyes so they thought they were a normal person like every single one in town.

At that thought, he raised his head and spared the members of his court a glance, “There’s no other explanation then. We’re once again being targeted by sorcery, no normal person would’ve been able to execute this and leave unnoticed.” He turned to the two knights closer to him and quickly ordered, voice taking a demanding tone in his voice, “Search the lower town, ask around for any strange sightings, see if anyone saw someone strange around yesterday before the feast. Those suspected of sorcery shall be taken to be interrogated— I won’t be taken as a fool by anyone, least so by a sorcerer!” 

“Yes, sire!” The knights exclaimed before storming off the throne room with a low bow, the doors outside being closed behind them by the guards.

Uther paced in front of his throne a few times, and when he was about to sit down, he caught the gaze of the Court Physician on him for a second, looking back to see how the other seemed uneasy, avoiding his gaze the moment they made eye-contact, and after years of having the other as a member of his court, Uther knew that such behavior normally meant that the physician had something to tell him, or an opinion to vocalize, but didn’t dare to say it out loud.

“Gaius.” He addressed the man with an exasperated tone, gaining the other’s attention to be on him, “You have something to say, don’t you, Gaius? Come on, speak your mind.”

Gaius straightened in his stance and spared the rest members of the court a look before returning his attention to him, Uther got that as cue to dismiss the meeting then, knowing that probably what the other had to say might be something of no public knowledge and they needed to keep it that way, “The meeting is dismissed. Leave us.” ordered with a dismissive wave of his hand, attention still on the older man in front of him.

Once the throne room was empty and only the two of them remained, Gaius decided to speak, “If you’d allow me a word on the matter, sire. I wouldn’t dare to speak out of turn.”

The king gave a curt nod, encouraging him to talk, “Gaius, for how long have you served me in my court? You’re well aware I take your advice in account, as you have been one of my more trustful allies in the fight against sorcery. Speak freely.”

The old man’s expression was deprived from any visible emotions, so it was hard to get a piece of what was going on in that mind of his, but he obliged his king.

“I might recall, sire, that the day you jailed the Great Dragon–” Gaius started, tentatively waiting for the other’s reaction to his words before continuing, readying himself to stop the moment Uther’s face would contort into an ugly sneer if he said something the king didn’t favor. “-You confided in me that the chain used had been forged in cold iron.”

Uther nodded along as he followed that train of thought. Cold iron was commonly known to be able to absorb and keep in check those with magic, even magical creatures like dragons, and deprive them of their powers. It was the witch hunter's favorite tool to employ when imprisoning a sorcerer. “Of course, you yourself had said it’d work with that thing as well. What’s your point?”

Gaius hesitated for a second before resuming from where he stopped, “If you may recall, cold iron not only is forged with the idea of…Cutting the control one with magic has on their abilities, but has also a repelling peculiarity within them.” He waited until the king gave an encouraging nod to continue, “Which means that no novice or initiative of sorcery could be able to break through them, no matter how skilled they might be.”

“Where are you trying to go with this, Gaius?” 

The Court Physician gave the same look that he always did when he was about to advise him, “What I’m trying to say, sire, is that someone with the power to break those chains won’t be found searching the lower town. A sorcerer with this power should be miles away from Camelot by now.”

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Merlin sneezed, the sound echoing through the woods surrounding the small camp he had made to pass the night, waiting for his food to be ready, cooked by the fire he lit in the middle. He absently cleaned his nose with the sleeve of his tunic, the cold was starting to get to him and while it was heavily uncommon of him to get sick, it didn’t mean he didn’t feel the cruel autumn air whistling through the forest. An amused voice echoed in his mind and provided him with the idea that somebody must’ve been speaking of him but he dismissed the thought as his own and kept cooking his meal. 

He had not made it far away from Camelot yet, but he was slowly making his way towards Mercia, planning to pay his former father a visit and maybe have a talk with him. Merlin hoped that the man was living where he had found him the first time, if he’d convince him that not everything was lost now that Kilgharrah was free, that he had the knowledge of where approximately a dozen dragon eggs had been hidden  —He had in mind later on finding the Tomb of Ashkanar and hatching Aithusa too. However, this time he’d make sure the little dragonet would be well-taken care of, unlike the first time– and that on top of that, there was a family out there waiting for him. Perhaps he should make a trip to Ealdor and see how Will and his former mother are holding up, but what excuse would he have to appear there? The idea of being a rogue Physician traveling through Albion was tempting, but he wasn’t sure if he looked the part. He needed a bag similar to the one Gaius used to have, the one he gifted him all those years ago– Maybe with the knowledge he had would be enough.

He hummed as he stirred something in the pot, deep in thought. He raised the wooden spoon he was using to his mouth and took a taste, he sprinkled some salt to the content before deeming it as ready and taking it off the fire. It was peaceful in that part of the forest, and he had made sure to be at a considerable distance from any path the patrols from the city would take; he'd like to avoid any kind of confrontation with the knights of Camelot if he’d. It wasn’t like he wasn’t powerful enough to dismiss them easily if things went south, but he preferred to not have to. If Merlin could get Uther’s attention off his back for as long as he’d, it was worth a try. Still, he should be a few miles away from the borders with Mercia and Essetír. His magic swirled around, telling him that he was alone, in the meantime, so he allowed himself to eat in peace. 

By the time he was on the move again, he felt the familiar tingling feeling from magic nearby poking at his, the signature was weak but held onto his like something in utmost distress, which made him stop on his tracks and face the direction he felt it coming from. It flickered and seemed to vanish for a second before he heard the faint call of help from someone in his mind.

  ‘It hurts’ 

The voice was almost unrecognizable, but tugged Merlin’s magic and as he flared his magic to try and find this person, the voice was heard by him again, this time clearer. It sounded like a child's.

‘Please’

.

‘Please, anyone-’

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‘I’m scared…Somebody help–’

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Following the source of weak magic he felt, Merlin made his way through the forest with quick and certain steps. He knows that he is being careless, but they sounded so… Afraid , and Merlin was too weak in the face of someone, least what sounded to be a child, in pain and distress, he almost died because of it when he fell into Daegal’s lies the first time, but the boy ended up having a good heart despite everything and it wasn’t in his nature to turn anyone seeking help down. There must be a Druid settlement nearby, but Merlin only felt this person for the moment, so something must’ve happened if they were alone abruptly. Before he could send an answer back, the signature was stronger and undeniably close, he looked around and just then noticed the small figure hiding inside the hollow trunk of a tree, there was an extremely young child hiding their face in their knees. 

Merlin accidentally stepped over a twig and the noise of it breaking made the kid snap her head up from her hunched posture, a terrified expression in her face tainted by thick tears that were still falling from her almond eyes. There was so much fear in them Merlin felt his heart clench inside his chest, more so seeing the faint blood stains staining her Druid cloak. An ugly bruise was starting to be visible at the right side of her forehead, whether it had been because of a fall, or what could’ve caused it remained unknown to him as he approached the distressed girl with an slow pace.

Hearing her breath hitch in the small yelp she managed to hush just in time before it left her mouth, seeing her shoulders shaking and more tears well up in her eyes, Merlin raised his hands and tried to make himself as non- intimidating as possible, and for good measure, directed his magic to her and spoke in her mind, ‘Hi, it’s okay. I won’t hurt you.’

The moment the message got to her, she winced, but didn’t make an attempt to run off or hide further away from him, so Merlin took that as an achievement.

He looked around to make sure they were alone, making another step towards her to speak in a hushed, gentle tone. This time out loud, “I heard you calling out.” After a beat of silence, he approached, “Can I get closer?”

She nodded, and when she didn’t flinch when he took a few steps closer to her, he took that as permission to kneel in front of her, at arms length in case his closeness scared her, “Are you alright?” He extended a hand towards her, but quickly hushed her when the girl winced and tried to get away again, a sob leaving her mouth, “Shh, hey, it’s alright. I just want to check, could I? If you’re hurt I can help, I’m a healer.”

At the familiar word, she perked up, blinking away tears and swallowing the knot that was sure inside her throat. “I- I fell…” She made a face of pain when she tried to move.

Her voice was so small, almost a whisper, that Merlin practically missed it if it weren’t for the attention he was paying her, “Where does it hurt, honey? Can I see?”

The little girl stared up at him and hesitated before nodding, gesturing towards her leg, “M-my ankle, it hurts.” 

Merlin nodded and reached towards her left ankle with slow movements so she could see what he was doing, and what he was about to do next, so as to not frighten her. He was used to meeting young Druid children who were extremely jumpy around others, wouldn’t be the first scared kid Merlin has met and certainly not the last.

He took a look at the girl’s ankle with methodic and practiced movements, already too used to this stuff, he moved it a little and hummed, his magic telling him it wasn’t broken. “It’s just sprained, I can heal it. What’s your name, youngling?” 

“Carlyn” she provided, shoulders not as tense as before as Merlin’s magic wrapped around her as a warm comforting blanket, reacting in the presence of a hurt, scared child.

Merlin gave her a soothing smile, “Carlyn, you’re going to feel my magic tickling you for a moment, alright?” He waited until he got a nod in confirmation before placing a hand over the sprained ankle, clearing his throat before murmuring the spell he needed under his breath. “ Wiðtêon sê gîeming, cild−fôstre into h¯ælð ”.

She watched with curious eyes as he conjured the spell, and it was clear all the pain she felt was gone when she wriggled her toe and giggled hoarsely when it didn’t hurt any more. “T-thank you” Carlyn said then, gratefulness visible in her expression.

She was so young and adorable, it made him smile. “Where are the rest of your people, Carlyn? How is it that you’re on your own?” Carlyn looked not older than twelve, and druids normally didn’t distance much from one another, believing that being in small groups was safer than being alone, and they were quite protective of the children living in their camps, more so of those with the telepathic abilities Carlyn had.

The anguish from before returned to her face then, and her puffy eyes were full of tears once more. She started sobbing, breath quickening, “T-they- The knights…—” That being the only thing Merlin needed for her to say, he placed a hand on her shoulder and provided a few gentle caresses as she continued, “They found our camp” she hiccuped. Realization flashed through her eyes then, “Y-you’ve got to help them, please.”

Merlin winced, unsure of what to do, because if they made their way back to the camp, the probabilities of everyone being dead and there for Carlyn to see were high. He didn’t want the little girl to see something like that, but he couldn’t deny her. It was his people too, and they already suffered much the first time, and it was enough suffering for a lifetime. They didn’t need to pass through any of that once again, and Merlin was powerful enough to help them now.

So he gave her a nod, continuing with the soothing caress, “I’ll do what I can, Carlyn. Show me where your camp is” 

His confirmation was enough to make her cry again, “Thank you, t-thank you!”

They were quick on the move again, Merlin followed her as fast as they could go through the woods without tripping. It didn’t take long before a wave of distressed voices filled Merlin’s mind, all of them being fretful cries for help and even screams, so loud he winced and tried to block them off with his magic as much as he’d so he was able to think clearly once again. He would be useless if he couldn’t think what to do.

The camp was before their eyes then, and Merlin automatically took Carlyn’s hand to carefully tug her to stand behind him so she was protected by his body, the little girl didn’t fight against his pull and immediately clinged to his robes with a shaking grasp. The camp was being wrecked by approximately over ten knights of Camelot, they were manhandling people around like they were everything but human beings, while they cried and begged for mercy.

Some of them even laughed and mocked their pleading.

Hurt them— His magic demanded, filling Merlin with anger towards the knights. Following orders was one thing, but they were taking pleasure in hurting people like this, there were lots of wounded from what he could see, and they didn’t even bat an eye when hurting women and children. He couldn’t leash his magic fast enough before it flared, making the distressed druids halt every movement and the knights stare in confusion. Merlin felt how his magic burned inside his body, making his stomach turn and his chest tighten painfully. 

The moment he saw them shove away a pregnant woman was the moment he snapped, a warning growl leaving his mouth. “Hey, you thugs!” He called, seeing as every single one of them directed their attention towards him. He felt Carlyn flinch from where she was clutching her tunic, but his magic wrapped around her in a comforting squeeze before swirling away. “Want a real sorcerer? Well— Here I am!”  

The knights didn’t have much time to react when before they could point their swords to him, Merlin’s eyes shone gold and the force of his magic flared against them, hitting every single one of them and knocking them off their feet. Their swords fell away from them, deeply asleep by a sleep enchantment. As much as he wanted them to get hurt, he knew that using too powerful magic would end up getting Uther’s attention and he couldn’t endanger the druids that still hid within Camelot’s borders. 

He sighed and concealed his magic once again, eyes returning to its natural color. Merlin spared the druids a look, they seemed still shaken by the events and just processing what just happened, but the silence broke when Carlyn peered from behind him and her face lit up, “Mother!” she cried, and a brown woman that strongly resembled her raised her head towards them, tears fell from her eyes the moment she saw her daughter, and embraced her immediately when Carlyn left Merlin’s side to run into her mother’s arms.

Merlin felt his anger subsiding at the sight, shoulders relaxing and expression softening. But he couldn’t relax for long before a thought reminded him of the fact that some of the druids were wounded and the spell he casted on the knights won’t hold for long. 

“Everyone alright?” He addressed them, stepping into the camp with careful pace as to not step on the knights, as much as he would like to do so. Merlin stopped when he saw the shock and awe still present in this people’s faces, and it was then he noticed grimly that they probably noticed who he must be. 

An old man who seemed to be the chief of this druid settlement gaped, his mouth opened and closed a few times before he managed to hesitantly utter what everyone else was thinking, “E- Emrys.” gasped, “It’s you, my Lord” The effect was immediate, and the other druids started to murmur between them, and his name was the only thing Merlin managed to discern from there, their amazed gazes not leaving him.

Merlin grimaced at the way the man addressed him, but didn’t comment on it as he walked towards him to help him stand up, “Are you alright? I can heal the wounded.”

The man still gaped at him but nodded and accepted his help, the moment he was on his feet he attempted to give Merlin a low bow but was stopped when he placed a hand on his shoulders, “No need for that, err–” Merlin trailed off.

“Eachainn, My Lord.” The druid chief provided, “There’s no words to express our gratitude, nor how lucky we feel to be in your presence, Lord Emrys” Having experience with devotees across the history, Merlin had already give up in trying to get them to stop with the whole ‘lord’ thing long ago, but no matter how many times he heard it, he will probably never get used to it.

Instead, he gave them a smile, “We can get back to that later, Chief Eachainn. I’d like to heal the wounded. After that, it is better if you all leave, those over there won’t be asleep for long.” 

Eachainn nodded a few times, not daring to look him in the eyes, bowing his head, “Of course, my Lord. Thank you.” 

Counting the survivors, Merlin realized they were a small group, but big nonetheless. They couldn’t stay in this place any longer, and it wasn’t safe in Camelot for them, he couldn’t help but wonder if Iseldir’s settlement was still around the forest of Ascetír or if they had moved further into Essetír, trying to flee Camelot at once, last time he had been at that enclave, they had settled around there. 

After he healed their badly wounded, he addressed Eachainn again, who hadn’t wandered too far off his side, watching with wonder as Merlin healed a man’s injury with his magic. He had never been a good healer, but his magic was too great and injuries like this were nothing for him now. “Chief Eachainn,” he addressed, having the man’s attention glued to him immediately from the moment he turned to face him, “If you know about other Druid settlements out of Camelot it is better if you and your people join them. Uther is restless, he might target you once he gets word of this, it might be safer for you all in other place but here.” The other nodded along, agreeing with his point of view, and seemed to recall something.

“Ah, yes. There might be a druid camp bordering Essetír, it is two sunsets away from here. But, if I may ask, what of you, my Lord?” He asked, and suddenly his expression reminded Merlin of a kicked puppy.

He must have expected Merlin to leave after this, and he couldn’t help but give him a reassuring smile, “I will accompany you to Essetír and make sure you all are safe.” 

It’s the least he could do, after all. Merlin could not stomach the idea of leaving them to fend on their own, knowing how dangerous it could be for them, most of the members in the camp were children and elderly, they couldn’t defend themselves and while traveling they’d be completely exposed to any kind of threats. The Druids were not fighters after all. 

.

What is a God without its people? If the God can't protect its devotees, it is no God at all. 

Merlin does well in remembering that.

Chapter Text

Merlin took great care in healing every injury he’d find in these people’s bodies, he was careful and methodical while doing so, minimizing as much as he’d the pain they’d feel from both his treatment and the feeling of his magic nursing their bodies back to health. He is well aware of how overwhelming the contact with his magic could feel for others, it was the burden of almost two thousand years weighing down and tangling the connection he had with the world’s magic and his own, entwined like rope, pulling and swaying around each other; One and the same. Apart yet united, needing one another to prevail. This connection was heavily uncommon, and not even the High Priestess and Priests of the Old Religion had ever achieved such harmony with the world’s energy, nor managed to find themselves so in tune with the magic flowing inside all living things. Perks of being the vessel of Magic itself. 

He was quite relieved to be able to alleviate this burden from his other self’s shoulders. The Merlin from this timeline was young, incredibly so, and didn’t deserve to go through the same things he did in his first life. Because the reason he– They failed was probably because of Merlin’s inexperience, his inability to see more than what met his eyes, to risk, to take . He had been but a child when he first arrived at Camelot and was entrusted with a Destiny too great to be handled on his own, and his environment didn’t help in making him feel safe or accompanied. Merlin had felt so alone, terrified, alone and scared of what’d happen if he was ever discovered, what would Arthur do if he had known then? Would he have told Uther? Would he ask for Merlin to get as far away from Camelot as possible and never return? — As much as he wanted to believe in his king’s good heart and nature, back then the prince had been so desperate to prove himself to his father, to make him proud, believing that the sun rose with Uther’s approval, yet would set with his anger. He, too, was afraid, and Uther Pendragon’s shadow was too large to escape it, engulfing every single one of them in its darkness, trapping them in the void of desperation and fear, of ignorance and tears.

Drowning them in the man’s own grief and hatred. And in the end, he had broken Morgana, his ignorance and fear had been her last thread, and she snapped. The sweet, caring and kind-hearted person Merlin met in his early days in Camelot was gone, and all of them had a part to take in her eventual doom.

Oh, god. Morgana — He doesn’t know if she was already living in the castle with the rest of the Pendragons, or if Gorlois was still alive at the moment. Merlin needed to look into that.

But first, he had to make sure his people were okay too. They were the most important thing to him at the moment, and he would not fail them. Not again. 

Fortunately for them, the majority of the wounded had merely minor injuries that didn’t need great treatment or were a matter of urgency, so Merlin could concentrate on those that were in a worse condition and heal them with his magic and the few healing spells he had acquired throughout his long, long life. They all expressed their gratitude to him once he was done, and the sincerity in their eyes managed to put a smile on his face. He was happy that those that could be saved were good now. But they needed to get going, and so, the whole group was quick on the move.

Merlin resorted to trailing behind, erasing any kind of proof or hints leading towards where they were hiding, disposing of trails and creating new ones as deceit. His magic told him they weren’t being followed, but he couldn’t take any risks with such a large group of people. Chief Eachainn and the eldest of the group accompanied him, while the children and wounded were in the middle, the center was the safer place in the group, but lots preferred to stay closer to him, likely feeling secured by his presence. Merlin didn’t comment on it and simply followed, helping those that couldn’t keep up and checking in on those that were ill or still suffering the aftermath of their injuries. Despite having had to leave their camp and some of their possessions behind, the atmosphere of the group was, surprisingly, not gloomy as Merlin thought it’d be, and he had the feeling that it probably had something to do with his presence. Most Druids that he met had similar reactions and acted the same way when he was around, it seems only Iseldir’s settlement acted incredibly cryptic most of the times he met them. 

“My Lord” Eachainn addressed, a little more confident after their previous interactions, but still not daring to make eye-contact with him for longer than a few seconds. His voice was low, leaning towards him as he walked, whatever his words might be only meant for him to be heard, and so, he had Merlin’s full attention, he hummed in reply, encouraging the older –in mortal age–  man to continue. The white-haired man reminded Merlin of Gaius, and oh, how much he misses his uncle. “Have you gotten any news about Camelot? We’ve heard there was some kind of…Commotion, yesterday. But nothing else. Perhaps it has something to do with his intensity in targeting us?” He paused for a second before his eyes turned fearful, and winced, like he just remembered something, to later add; “My Lord.”

Merlin spared him a look, doubtful if it was a good idea to reveal to the other the cause of the commotion, or rather, who caused it. He had foreseen his actions would provoke this kind of reaction from the tyrant king, but he didn’t think he was seeking to target the Druid people still living all scattered around Camelot, it was unlikely they would blame him, but old habits die hard, it seems. “It appears that…” He lowered his voice, “The Great Dragon escaped Uther’s chains yesterday.”

Eachainn’s eyes went wide, staring up at him in shock and amazement, mouth dropping open at his words. He wasn’t sure if they knew about the dragon being imprisoned under the castle, but by the man’s expression, it was clear it rang a bell. “The Great Dragon?” he breathed. “Camelot is still standing?”

Merlin chuckled and nodded, although he knows that if it had been up to Kilgharrah, Camelot would be nothing but ruins by now. “Uther didn’t appreciate that his most favored trophy is no longer under his control.” Merlin almost snorted at the thought of Kilgharrah, of all, being under Uther’s control. The dragon would probably tear him apart before the tyrant got any funny ideas, he was a powerful creature, it’s obvious his will would not bend at the hands of men. The only exception being Dragonlords, of course. “I know it’s surprising, but Kilgharrah left Camelot alone once he was released.” Not willingly, unfortunately. 

The chief seemed to want to ask more, and Merlin would have indulged him if he had, but the other pursed his lips shut and averted his gaze, surely unsure if it was appropriate to inquire more. And secretly, Merlin was grateful for that. 

Once they had made a good distance, the group came to a stop. The sun was starting to set and everyone looked exhausted, it had been a long and stressful day for them all, and traveling in the dark was highly unsafe, so no one complained when Eachainn suggested they stop. Although they did stare up at Merlin, like they were waiting for his permission or thoughts in the matter, simply gaining a kind smile and nod in return, it seemed it was all the confirmation they needed before spreading to set up camp. Merlin helped in what he’d, with a wave of his magic the tents were all ready in a matter of seconds, and he couldn’t help the embarrassed blush that took over his cheeks when feeling the awed stares of the Druids on him. Oh gods, it has been over a millenia and he was still not used to this kind of devotion and looks of admiration, after spending an eternity on his own, he had forgot that what he’d do was incredibly rare, and that most people living amidst the Druids had little to none magical capacity, unable of performing anything more than low-level spells. 

Most druids had some kind of inclination towards magic, but it took them triple the effort than others to learn. Those that had developed telepathic abilities had more of a distinct type of magic in them, theirs was more instinctive, slightly similar to his, and often manifested at an early age —Although Mordred had been the youngest one he had records of being capable of that ability since such a tender age, which wasn’t common. – afterwards, it needed pulishing and learnt control to be able to use it for anything more than a few instinctual actions highly dependable on one’s emotions.

The group was made up of three elderly men, including Eachainn, an elderly lady, four other women, two little girls –which includes Carlyn– a boy and one young woman. It wasn’t the largest group Merlin had seen but they were still quite a varied bunch. One of the little girls was an orphan, apparently, she was two years old and the whole group seemed to have decided to take care of her as a whole. Carlyn was the oldest of the children, since the little boy was approximately eight years old from what Merlin could see, and he was named Camran, while the other girl was named Ailish, and she was an adorable blonde-haired girl with chubby cheeks and green eyes. None of their names rang a bell, so Merlin supposed that he had never met them before. 

Merlin settled on the middle of the camp and raised his hand to absently lit a fire with a swift spell, the fire of his magic didn’t run out as easy or as quick as a normal fire, but still needed firewood to fend on its own. The magical fire danced in front of his eyes and provided warmth and light to the whole camp, and since it wasn’t natural, it didn’t let go of smoke so it’d go undetected through the night. Carlyn sat in front of the fire with little Ailish in her arms, and Camran quickly followed her example, sitting close to her. They seemed close and it warmed Merlin’s heart, hoping that they’d still have some sort of childhood despite living in such troubling times. 

The silence was only occasionally interrupted by the hushed chatting among the members of the camp, they seemed a lot more relaxed now and were preparing to have something to eat before going off to bed. Merlin’s magic surrounded the camp in a protective manner, like a resting guardian watchful and alert of any kind of threat, determinant in keeping them all safe. Chief Eachainn casted a warding spell around the camp, which Merlin heavily strengthened with one of his own, making sure they wouldn’t be seen from outside the camp. and were protected from prying eyes. 

Returning to his maneuver of all the years he had accompanied Arthur and their group of knights along in any kind of trip, Merlin collected some firewood and some edible plants they’d use as food. Eachainn had introduced him to the elderly lady, she was in charge of preparing the meals for everyone, but seeing as they were seeming to run out of ingredients, Merlin took care of providing enough for anyone, she thanked him greatly, making a low bow, “Thank you, my Lord! Your kindness amazes me” And he only smiled at her, “I’ll help you prepare things” he suggested, but she immediately shook her head furiously.

The lady, Dolidh, went back to cutting the ingredients, “I can fend on my own, my Lord! You’re most kind, but don’t need to worry yourself with such a thing, I might be an old lady but I’d be damned if I couldn’t cook anymore.” Merlin chuckled and gave her a smile, deciding not to press because he’d respect her conviction. He’d react the same way if someone decided to take care of the things he loved to do without his permission, deeming him useless because of such an ambiguous thing as age. 

Whatever they were doing was interrupted by an infant’s cry. Ailish, who apparently wasn’t very happy with the joistling around in Carlyn’s arms, abruptly bursted into tears, startling everyone in the camp as the older girl tried her best to soothe her. By the sound of it, Merlin guessed Ailish was probably only exhausted and in great need of some sleep after such a draining day. 

Merlin approached the pair and sat down next to Carlyn, who still tried to shush the infant and stop her cries, he placed a gentle hand on the baby’s belly and tried to gain her attention, and spoke with a sweet tone he only directed towards children, “Ailish, look.” with his other hand raised towards the fire, he murmured a spell under his breath and casted it, an spell he had invented all those years ago. And soon the form of a small dragon appeared above the bonfire, dancing over the flames with grace and care. 

Ailish opened her eyes then, hiccuping and sniffing, cheeks flushed and wet from the thick drops that were still falling from her eyes, but the moment she saw the figure dancing in the fire she stopped crying altogether, eyes wide and tiny mouth open in awe. Merlin made the dragon leave the flames and fly around them gently, it circled them and Ailish giggled at the show, clapping with her tiny hands as she stretched to try and catch the small form, failing in doing so but too entertained with only watching it fly. He wished other people could see magic like this, like a beautiful, harmless thing that’d be used for such an innocent purpose like soothing a crying baby, or helping children sleep. 

If only they could see, understand, the beauty behind magic, see it as it was; Life. Not death, nor as a weapon, but as the core of all living things– Maybe this whole mess could’ve been prevented.

Would’ve Merlin existed if that had happened? If his sole existence was a way to balance things in the aftermath of the Great Purge, would he have still been born? Would things be as they were? Would Arthur and he still meet and be friends?

He had to make it happen, if only to test if that was possible.

Between that and Carlyn’s soothing movements, Ailish’s eyelids were heavy and she started to struggle at keeping them open, drifting off into sleep, Merlin only vanished the spell once she was complete and deeply asleep, he couldn’t help the smile on his face. He loved children, but with the whole Immortality thing, he couldn’t afford having a family of his own. 

There was no way he’d tolerate the pain of losing his own children, when the natural order of things was for them to bury their parents, not the other way around. Nature meant nothing when it came to Merlin’s existence, he was an exception to every rule in the book. A humanized god, condemned to see entire civilizations rise and fall before his eyes, forced to wait and wait until the stars lost their light, hell went cold and time ceased to exist. 

‘I’m happy to be your servant, ‘till the day I die.’ — Were the words he told Arthur what felt like eons ago, and the universe took that promise to heart. Fifteen hundred years later and there he still remains.

He doesn’t have to wait anymore. Now that he had this second chance, he couldn’t risk screwing anything up, this time he’ll fulfill his destiny, magic will return to the world, and his people would finally be safe, they would finally be able to live in peace. He won’t rest until magic stops being seen with fear and wariness. But first things first, he needed to help these people get to safety. If they managed to find Iseldir’s settlement, it’d be better for them, the man had the largest population and had more knowledge on magic than others, if Merlin could taught a few how to cast the wards he has used, then they’d be safer than they had been the first time.

A voice at his side broke him out of his mind, it was Carlyn, but he didn’t manage to understand what she said so he idiotically asked, “Pardon, what was that again?” The girl blinked but repeated her words, “I asked, where did you learn how to do that? The dragon?” Inquired with a genuinely curious glint in her brown eyes, but grimaced at the glare her mother sent her, she added, “Sorry– My Lord.”

Merlin smiled at her so Carlyn saw he took no offense in not being addressed ‘properly’, so there was no need to apologize, he replied wholeheartedly then, “I invented that spell, when I was a child. My mum used to tell me stories about dragons when I couldn’t sleep, they were my favorite.” His smile turned melancholic at the memory, he missed Hunith greatly, but the Hunith that gave birth and raised him was long gone. He was happy nonetheless to know the Hunith here was alive, and he’d do anything to make sure she stayed that way, but Merlin has gone so long without her, it has been so long since she died, that it was like she was still gone for him. For the person he was now, for Avery, Hunith didn’t exist, and the tales from his childhood were nothing more than fairytales by now. A story he didn’t live, at least not here. “But that was a long time ago” he sighed, “Now it is only worth making kids happy, it seems.”

Carlyn decided not to ask anything about the melancholy in his expression, whether she noticed what it was about or not, she changed the subject, “Could you teach me?” Merlin blinked, taken aback by her question, and Carlyn’s mother, the pregnant lady, immediately scolded her, face flushed red, “Carlyn! You shouldn’t address Lord Emrys like that!”

At the pout forming in Carlyn’s face, Merlin couldn’t help but laugh, how many times had he witnessed the same thing through history? Children were totally not used to nobility terms, and he kinda preferred it to stay that way. “It’s okay” he shrugged it off, “I’m not a lord anyway.” The whole group of older Druids stiffened and were about to chime in to surely argue why Emrys deserved to be treated as such and what he meant for them, but they closed their mouths shut the moment Merlin raised a hand to stop them from talking, “I know , however, that your hope lies solely on me and the prophecies you’ve grown up hearing all your lives, and I won’t get in the middle of that. Faith is a necessary thing when there doesn’t seem to be anything else you can hold on to, nothing stable enough to keep, nothing material that would remain through time, I know. That doesn’t mean I’ll take offense if you don’t address me as such, you don't need to reprimand or scold each other because of it. It’s completely okay.” They stayed completely in silence at his words, completely speechless, more so than they only managed to nod their heads to him. 

With still a soft smile, he turned to face Carlyn, and his smile widened, “I can teach you, although I’m not sure how much you’ve been taught, Carlyn.” The girl’s face lit up at his agreement, and her grin was a refreshing thing to see in her expression after the horror and fear had reigned her eyes the entire day, “Thank you, Lord Emrys! I’ve been struggling with the spell to light up a fire for ages now!” 

“ ‘ Forbærnan’? Or is it perhaps, ‘Bæl on bryne’? ” He asked, curious, and she murmured, embarrassed, that it was the second, though the other was more complicated simply because there was nothing like wood to keep the fire alight. Merlin grabbed a few twigs from the mountain he had collected for the bonfire, and settled them in front of Carlyn. Ailish was asleep in her tent now, so only Carlyn and Camran were awake from the children. The boy was staring at them curious and with interest, though he seemed too shy to join in. Merlin smiled at him, “Would you like to learn, too?” asked, and the boy’s face turned red from shame, but he nodded shyly and settled beside Carlyn.

Putting a few dry leaves along with the twigs to simulate a small version of the bonfire in the middle of the camp, Merlin returned his attention towards Carlyn, and encouraged her to start, “Show me how you do it, first.” 

The girl blushed and stammered, eyes wide, “N-now?”   and Merlin raised an eyebrow, “Yes? We’ve some time before supper is ready, and if you’ve been struggling so much I can help. It’s one of the first spells I’ve ever learnt in my life.”

That got her attention, and she relaxed, “Who taught you, Lord Emrys?” The other druids seemed interested too, and turned towards Merlin, waiting for the answer patiently. They all seemed curious as to how Emrys learnt all the spells he knew, who taught him or where he learnt it all.

“I taught myself, mostly. Yet I couldn’t practice as much as I’d liked to until a few years ago.” Deciding to return his attention to the matter at hand, he once again gestured towards the pile of branches and leaves on the floor in the middle of their small circle, “Please begin.”

Carlyn nodded, determination burning in her eyes now, a big difference from the embarrassment in her face moments prior. She raised her hands and pointed them towards the fire, and Merlin hummed in approval at her posture, directing spells was easier when using your hands and arms to point the magic where it needed to go, her face grew serious as she focused, and her eyes flickered gold for a moment before she muttered the spell with conviction, “ Bæl on bryne! ” The gold in her eyes died off and nothing happened, taking a deep breath, she tried once again, with the same result. It was enough to prove her point and she groaned, frustrated, “See? I can’t get it right”

Merlin smiled in understandment. Those spells were the ones people normally learnt first when they start delving into the arts, and such frustration is understandable, given that leashing one’s magic enough to get it to do what you want was something hard to accomplish in the first place. “Do you feel your magic within you?” Inquired, curious, and she nodded, “I think,” he started and sighed, “–that I know what the problem might be.”

Carlyn tilted her head, “R- really? Am I doing something wrong, Lord Emrys?”

He chuckled softly at her expression, shaking his head, “It isn’t necessarily your fault. Most people don’t know this, but the reason as to why you might be struggling with this spell is because of the sole nature of magic itself.” It has been so long since he lectured someone on magic, it felt odd. And he is pretty self-conscious that the others were paying close attention too. “Magic is the very energy of the world, nature is magic, and magic is nature. Just like nature, magic is unrestrained, and wild, like a storm, and you can’t certainly tell a storm to do what you want. People tend to force magic to do their bidding, like it is something you’ve to force, something that must bend to your will, if you do so, she will fight back.” 

One of the elder men chimed in then, curiosity and interest visible in his face while he stratches his beard, “You speak of magic as if it were alive, a person , My Lord.” 

“Because it is.” He nodded solemnly, “Magic is a tool, yes, but it is also the energy of Life itself. One must wield it as if it was an extension of oneself, as if you were breathing. Once you come to understand magic as a whole, as part of your very being, then you might be able to cast spells easier. Tell me, speaking telepathically to others does take you any kind of second thoughts, is it a practiced process you’ve to repeat every single time you’d like to speak to someone with your mind?” Carlyn shook her head, “Most spells work the same thing, you should let your magic flow, treat it as a extra limb, and you’ll slowly be able to light a fire, and maybe do way more other spells” 

Carlyn nodded, and they fell into a quiet dynamic where both Camran and her would try to cast the spell on the pile of twigs and leaves. Merlin could feel Carlyn’s magic tug against her, unwilling to light the fire, but as she kept trying, taking pauses to relax and take deep breaths, to calm any sort of tension in her body, her magic started to respond better to her attempts. Camran was younger, and even though he had yet to manifestate any kind of magical inclination, he seemed to enjoy doing the exercises himself. By the time dinner was ready, a small fire was lit in front of Carlyn, and as her eyes faded from gold to their natural color she beamed, “I did it!” 

Merlin couldn’t help the genuine grin that formed in his face at the girl’s happiness and success, “Well done, Carlyn!” At the praise, the girl blushed intently but the smile on her face never wavered. 

They all sat down to eat together in peace and quiet then, enjoying the other’s presence, the noise of the fire and their eating was the only thing that could be heard through the silence of the night. Merlin’s magic was still surrounding the camp, still alert and strengthening the wards keeping them safe from any prying eyes. When they were finished, Merlin helped them clean the dishes before going to bed.

He was starting to settle down his spot to sleep in the ground, but the moment the druids saw what he was intending to do, they panicked, shooting one another horrified glares, the gasping chorus of “M-My Lord!”, “L-Lord Emrys!” made Merlin stiffen in his stance and turn to look at them, incredibly confused, “What’s wrong?”

Chief Eachainn had a similar horrified expression on his face, staring up at Merlin like he was covered in animal guts, quite pale, “My Lord, there’s no way we can allow you to sleep on the cold ground!” He stammered, baffled by his actions as he shook his head furiously. “You can have my tent, Lord Emrys!”

Merlin blinked, surprised by this whole thing. He didn’t understand that the idea of him sleeping on the ground horrified them so much. “Chief Eachainn, I couldn’t possibly-” The man interrupted him with determination, face red, “It’d be an honor, My Lord! It’s the least we’d do after everything you did for us today” he then bowed deeply to him and Merlin sighed. 

He walked up to the elder and placed a hand on his shoulder, “Eachainn, please, there’s no need for that. I’m young,” Sort of, a voice bit back but he dismissed it. “– and I’m highly used to sleeping in the woods, even in the ground. When I was young, the village where my mother and I lived together was small, we were poor and couldn’t afford a second bed, so I’d take the floor so my mother could sleep on the bed.” he smiled at him warmly, “You don’t need to give me your tent, when I helped you, it was out of my own will, and I didn’t expect anything in return. I’m serious about that, I’m merely glad to help you all in any way I can, I’m satisfied with seeing you healthy and safe. It’s all I ask of you. So please, don’t feel like you owe me, could you do that for me?”

Eachainn gaped, mouth opening and closing a few times like he simply was out of words after what he said, and Merlin swore he saw the old man’s eyes crystallize before he averted his gaze to his feet, nodding and taking a hold of Merlin’s hand, grasping it like a lifeline. “Anything for you, Lord Emrys.” 

Giving the other’s hand a gentle squeeze, Merlin stepped back with a smile he directed towards the rest, “That goes for the rest of you, alright? Now, we should rest, we've got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.” 

They nodded and, to his displeasure, bowed their heads to him before spreading to each go settle at their respective sleeping spots. Merlin did the same, and sat down in his bed roll. They should be trespassing the border with Essetír soon enough, and while Essetír wasn’t a precisely…good place, for people like them with Cenred on the power, at least sorcery wasn’t outlawed there, and Merlín didn’t have to fear using his magic because he didn’t give a single shit about Cenred or any of his men that were in his army willingly. 

He wished for the King to thread carefully around him, because if he gave Merlin a sole reason to turn his attention to him— Well, let’s just say he won’t be as lenient as he had been in his first life. 

Angering a god was the last thing you should do in your life. If Cenred wanted to play with fire- O h, Merlin will give him what he seeks for, tenfold.

Don’t feed a forest fire if you can’t handle the flames. 

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“What?” — Back in Camelot, Uther’s face was a poem when one of the patrols returned home, all with bandaged heads and grim expressions in their faces, the captain of the division giving him the report of their encounter with a camp of Druids that they were managing, when out of a sudden they had been attacked by a unknown individual. The stupor evident in faces of all the rest of the council was not uncalled for, in all those years, the Druids had never retaliated against the Knights of Camelot, Gaius himself had told him many times that they were pacifists, and never once they had attacked a patrol before. He wanted it to be a joke out of the inaptitude of this knights, who were a little young and so inexperienced, and he was inclined to laugh because there was no way a druid managed to knock out over ten knights with a simple thought, right? They were pacifists, or in other words, cowards! Retaliating never did them any good, so why would they now?  

“Are you telling me,” he chuckled lightly, “–that one druid knocked you all off your feet?” He spared the rest of the council a look, and they laughed along with him at the ridiculousness of what they were hearing. “That’s absurd.”

“He came out of nowhere, My Lord!” One of the knights all but croaked, clearing his throat before continuing, lowering his tone when one of the older knights gave him a warning glare of keeping his tone in check in front of their king. “He wasn’t a Druid, sire– No, he was entirely different.” shook his head a few times to try and dismiss a thought physically. “The druids themselves cowered under his presence, and I- I don’t know, my Lord, but when we woke up they- All the druids were gone! We tried to go after them, yet it was like they–”

Another knight finished his phrase for him when he seemed at a loss of words, “—Like they vanished, sire. We tried to follow their trail but after a while it was like they were just… Gone. ”

Uther spared them a look and raised from his seat, “You’re telling me…That one sorcerer roughed you all up?” 

Gulping, the knight gave a hesitant nod, “Y-yes, sire.”

“There were over ten of you!” Uther growled, slamming his hand on the table. Even the council members flinched at the sudden outburst, but did their best in hiding it behind apparent stern expressions. The knights didn’t say anything else, or rather, didn’t dare to utter another single word, and Uther got progressively more tired of this and waved his hand in a dismissive manner, “You’re all dismissed.” 

The knights nodded and bowed their heads before abandoning the council room with urgent paces. Once they were gone, Uther turned to the knight sitting at one of the places in his right, taking his seat again with a sigh, “Sir Evrart” The man straightened in his seat, “Have your patrol scout every corner of that forest, and stay on high alert for any kind of mention about the actions of a sorcerer like they mentioned. If that sorcerer is as powerful to take down a full set of knights I want him found!”

Sir Evrart nodded, “Yes, my Lord!”

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The fears of one wavering king are the fears of all, including their own.

Chapter Text

By noon, Merlin and the small group of druids made it pass the border between Camelot and Cenred’s kingdom, and despite the high alert the patrols were in, they didn’t encounter any knights of Camelot, it was certainly a relief, and very fortunate for said knights in question, since Merlin wasn’t particularly fond of the idea of letting all this people be arrested or executed in the spot. There were only children and elderly in the group, and even a pregnant lady!

 He couldn’t understand how anyone could get any kind of satisfaction out of hurting innocents, one would think that after witnessing over one millennia of history, he’d have gotten used of that behavior, a behavior that ate humans from inside, feasts off the goodness of their hearts and corrupt their souls and minds, until they no longer desired for anything more than to take and take, and take, until there was nothing left, until the hole in their souls had been filled, until they had all the riches they longed.

(But how can one piece what had never been whole before? How can anything satisfy the bottomless pit on a person’s heart, a person whose heart had never been attended to, or someone taught that the whole world was theirs to take, theirs to hold and theirs to control?) —Anyway, the trip had been a long one, and they still hadn’t reached the camp chief Eachainn had previously mentioned. 

As they took a water break, Merlin stayed vigilant at one secluded corner of the spot the rest had taken to rest. There was a funny feeling in his stomach, one that he couldn’t quite pinpoint, it had a familiar perk to it, but one he hadn’t felt in a while, it kind of reminded him of the few times he had gone in a hunting trip with Arthur and something bad happened, –Something bad always happened when that prat didn’t listen to him and his bad feelings– and the feeling made him uneasy. His magic told him nothing was wrong for the moment, but he knew very well how quickly things could go south if he wasn’t careful, if he wasn’t on high alert to detect whatever was threatening the group. 

The others remained clueless of his restlessness, and Merlin kind of preferred it to stay that way. If he was overreacting he didn’t want them to worry over nothing, and whatever might happen, he’d protect them. 

He wasn’t going to let any of these people end up hurt, or worse, if Merlin could help it, his people won’t ever have to pass through the same shit they had in his previous life, not if he’d help it. All the power in the world, and for something like this it’d be more than enough, right? 

Wasn’t this his true purpose besides being the Once and Future King’s loyal servant, keeping the people that had unyieldingly believed in him no matter how many mistakes Merlin committed in his first life –And hell, only the sky knows exactly how many — and that would do the same over again even now? His people, who never doubted him despite his many flaws, despite having failed. Merlin still remembers Alator and Finna, who bravely opposed Morgana in order to protect him, and willingly gave their lives to keep him safe.

Five years before the beginning of his destiny in Camelot, and with it his direct duty with the Once and Future King, his heart will be with his people, nothing else was as important as that. 

He was broken from his thoughts when chief Eachainn approached him with careful steps, avoiding tripping over the uncertain relief of the forest ground with the aid of a long and sturdy branch he was using as a staff. When he did, they both shared a small nod as the older addressed him, “My Lord.” After a beat of silence Merlin didn’t see necessary to fulfill, Eachainn continued, “At the pace we’re going, we’d reach our destination by sunset. The camp shouldn’t be far from here”

Merlin nodded in acknowledgement, but felt a little curious and interested in how is that he knew about where other druid settlements had been positioned, from what he’d remember from his first life, druids didn’t have the luxury of relying in the conventional ways of communication between enclaves or settlements, and many of them lacked the level to perform the common messaging spells people used to rely on in the time of the Old Religion, where High Priestess or Priests placed themselves as the direct source for the spell, since their magic was the strongest among magic users, and through them messages were sent between their settlements, and people appointed by them would receive the messages and pass them on, and so on until it reached the destined location.

 There was also the spell that consisted in charming an bird or some kind of animal to send messages, Merlin himself had used it when he was young and that was how Lancelot and he kept in contact for years after he was exiled from Camelot, but –he didn’t know it at the time– it was a high-level spell that not all magic users were able to perform. “Good.” was his response at the other’s words with a smile. “May I ask how is it that your people manage to keep in contact with each other?”

Eachainn seemed a little surprised by his question, but saw no reason to lie or not answer, given who was the person that asked it. Druids were extremely secretive, since such wariness was what kept them alive and hidden most of the time, so they were not people that trusted easily, but this happened to be Emrys, and who was he to deny anything to the man who saved their lives and who’d one day deliver them the golden dawn they had been yearning for? — “Well, we’ve established a missive chain through the members of our community that are able to use the telepathic talent, the most skilled are able to speak to one another even with a few miles of distance between them, but they mostly need intermediators and we founded a system similar to the one used in the time of the Old Religion.” 

Merlin nodded, just like he thought. It made sense, though he wasn’t really sure if it wouldn’t be too draining to maintain such connection between the enclaves for people with small magic storages, and the fact that any magic user in a mid-radius could hear everything broadcasted from a source as long as they were within the range wasn’t exactly of his liking, and also made it way harder to keep things between the settlements only, and their locations safe and hidden.

Returning to the present, the whole group deemed the break as finished and resumed their walk with a steady pace, all of them wanted to reach their destination as soon as possible. They were all tired, and despite being in a good mood thanks to Merlin’s presence putting them all at ease, no one could deny that the events of days prior had struck them to the core. It was still present in their eyes, glimmering like the faint flame of a candle holding its turf against the harsh wind, yet while it was clear as ice how exhausted they were of all this, of having to hide, to run, of never being able to find a permanent place to live, condemned to always expect the worst, Merlin could see a newly found glint of determination in their faces, like they just had their faith reaffirmed, like their hope just got stronger. 

All druids knew what the name Emrys meant for their people, they grew up listening to the poems and tales speaking of the yet-to-come Golden dawn that would rise over Albion, of the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth, Magic given a mortal body, destined to guide them towards a bright tomorrow. Of the Once and Future King, prophesied to unite the five kingdoms and rule over Albion and establish a new order of peace, with Emrys by his side as his loyal vassal. Emrys in all of his power was now in their midst, and soon word would spread among their world about his arrival. 

For as long as Emrys existed, they knew that there wasn’t anything to be afraid of. Not anymore. 

As they slowly got closer and closer to the forest of Ascetír, which now remained as part of Essetír for the moment being, Merlin peered up at the familiar presences he had gotten used to having beside him in his first life, presences long since lost, but ones he never allowed himself to forget about not matter how hard it had gotten after the first couple of centuries to keep track of all his memories. The smile that tugged up the sides of his mouth was one he couldn’t stop from forming in his face, feeling the thrill of his magic as muffled and mixed voices echoed in his mind, there were druids near that spot, and from what he’d feel it was a highly populated settlement. 

The group came to a stop when they stepped into a clearing, Eachainn made his way past them and stood in the front of the group, he looked around before Merlin felt his magic reaching somewhere into the woods, with it, his voice carried with his magic. 

‘Fellow companions and friends, I am Chief Eachainn from Camelot, and we’ve come to Ascetír in search of shelter.’ He announced, and Merlin couldn’t help that it had been broadcasted for him to listen as well. No matter what he did, when the druids spoke in their minds, his magic always picked up their muffled chatter, that was how he always found them in his first life. If they were in distress, like Carlyn had when they met, their magic instinctively reached up for the strongest signature around and held onto it. He had been told that when he wasn’t consciously concealing his power, he was practically an enormous beacon of energy for them. The chief continued with what he was saying now, sparing Merlin a look before he added, ‘Lord Emrys is among us.’ 

After a few beats of silence, the presences he felt were suddenly way closer than before, and a few hooded silhouettes emerged from behind the trees, their expressions hidden by their cloaks, but their paces firm and steady as five of them stopped right in front of their group, Merlin could tell there were more druids hidden in the woods surrounding them, both curious and expectant of what was about to unfold. The man standing on the front raised his hands to the hood of his cloak and finally pulled it down, revealing his face— Iseldir stood in front of them, being the same person Merlin remembers from his first life, wearing that same melancholic and exhausted expression of his, eyes dull but filled with a newly-found light that didn’t use to be there before. While the other had been drastically cryptic the few times they met when he was young, after Arthur’s death, they had formed a somewhat close relationship, without doubt a friendship, that had lasted long before he, too, passed away years after. Despite it all, Merlin had found himself warming up to the other, following his advice and appreciating the man’s guidance, and even enjoying his presence. Since Iseldir had lived through the Great Purge and remembered what life used to be like before, he told him lots of stories of how it had been, how everything had been so full of magic and happiness among the Druids, and he shared the knowledge he had when the spells books Merlin had read ran out of anything of usefulness for a warlock like him. The camp leadered by Iseldir welcomed him with open arms, and as such, Merlin was incredibly grateful and remembered them with a deep, burning fondness. 

It was nice to see them again, but he had to remind himself these weren’t the same people he once knew, in this world, at this point of time, they were nothing but strangers, united only by the name the druids gave him and what he was supposed to mean for them. Nothing else. 

Iseldir’s gaze wandered around each of them, Merlin noticed how the light blond man’s eyes lingered on his for longer before he settled his attention back on Eachainn. The pair of chiefs shared one polite nod in acknowledgement of each other’s presence and importante, before he finally spoke, “May we see your markings?” he asked, his tone slightly demanding, but he added next, gentler this time, “I’m sure you’d understand that these methods are to be used, these are dangerous times, after all. And Cenred has spies everywhere.” Even among us— Was left unsaid, but the phrase lingered heavily in the air. No one complained or said anything against the other’s petition, only lifted the piece of clothing that hid their druid marks in quiet commitment. They passed their hands over the marks and rubbed them to later show how the skin of their hands came untainted by the ink, all under Iseldir’s scrutinizing gaze. 

Satisfied with it, his eyes finally landed in Merlin, who remained still a few steps behind Eachainn, his face deprived of any emotions that might tattletale whatever he was truly feeling at the moment, watching as the scene unfolded before his light blue eyes. Iseldir’s eyes seemed to stay glued to Merlin’s ones, like he was looking for something in his gaze, or in any corner of his face, whatever that something might be, he didn’t seem to find it as Merlin let go some of his magic to wander around them, brushing past the druids that he saw stiffen immediately where they stood. A few even gasped, while Iseldir’s eyes widened in understandment, “Lord Emrys.” the man voiced in a mere murmur as he affirmed, barely holding back the wince at the feeling of the other’s magic wrapping around them in a playful tug. “Is it really true.” 

His last words were spoken with a hint of shock, like he couldn’t believe his eyes, but none of them would ever dare to mistake Emrys’s presence with another’s, not when the ancient magic conforming the very same fabric of their world, the elements and Life and Death itself swayed around them, purring in content as its mortal vessel stood among them. And Merlin, simply for the sake of it, let an amused smile form in his face as he acknowledged his long lost friend, “Iseldir.” he greeted whilst holding his head high.

The effect was immediate, when the chief’s eyes opened wider and a mix of confusion, surprise and astoundment flashed through his eyes as the jolt of wonder fell over him, his shoulders tensed and relaxed just as quick, his mouth gaped faintly. And who could possibly blame him? To learn that the person your people, and yourself, spent their entire lives and history worshiping as their Lord, God and Savior, knew the name of a lowly follower like he…Merlin could see how much it had shaken him, and the other druids standing at his side and around them. The man inclined his head in a bow, and the others beside him followed suit immediately, silence falling over all them as they showed their amazement and respect towards him. “We’re honored to meet and have you here, Lord Emrys. Our people have waited a long time for this time to come.”

Merlin’s smile was gentle as he took into their hope and faith, how they held onto what he meant, and felt both slightly uncomfortable, and warm in the face of such devotion. If anything, he was the one honored and grateful of it, how they continued to believe in him even after all the years he remained as a mere bedtime story for their children, a figure too far away from their lowly mortal lives, feeling they were unworthy of bathing in their Savior’s power and presence, barely comforted with the idea of he being somewhere. But now he was there, very much real and alive, standing in all his utmost glory and power. A humanized God walking amongst humankind. 

“Then I’m sure your people and you will finally know relief, for I am here now, and Albion’s golden sunrise is near.” 

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Eachainn’s group settled down rather quickly with the others, Iseldir’s settlement had taken into establishing themselves inside a formation of caves that had enough space for everyone, and they didn’t even blink an eye at the newcomers. However, word that Emrys had arrived with the small group of Camelot’s druids had spread throughout the entire camp, and in minutes there were many staring at him with awe and wonder, like they couldn’t believe their eyes, not until he was standing there in the middle of their camp, powerful just like they imagined him to be, if not a little young from what their prophecies told, but there was no mistaken the presence and way he carried himself with. — The way of a man that had seen too much in his life– To Merlin’s amusement, and displeasure, some even had fell to their knees and started to pray to the heaven’s above in grateful and teary murmurs, others were moved to tears. 

They all had waited so, so long for this moment to arrive. 

Iseldir encouraged them both, Eachainn and he, to follow him deeper in the main cave and to take seat in what he assumed was the other druid chieftain’s corner if all the things saved there were anything to give by. Knowing that neither of the two older druids –again, older in mortal age, this new body of his must be roughly over his twenties or past his early twenties into his late years. It was hard to calculate aging and years when he spent his entire life with the same unchanging body that never aged. – would sit until Merlin was sitting, much to his displeasure, he sat down and they followed suit soon after. The light blond man grabbed a jug of water settled on the rock on his right side and a few old, rusty cups along, gesturing to it in invitation, “Water?” he offered, Eachainn spared his fellow chieftain a grateful smile and nodded-

Merlin too accepted, but before he’d grab the jug to pour his own drink, Eachainn had beat him to it and handed him the cup of water, inclining his head, “My Lord” he called and insisted with a move of his hand for him to take it, and he did with a sigh and a tiny, thankful smile. Iseldir waited until both had their drinks before filling his own at last. After taking a sip of water each in complete silence –aside from the murmurs and muffled chatter from the rest living in the cave–, Eachainn finally spoke first, “We’re most grateful for you taking us in, chief Iseldir. Though I’m ashamed of having brought yet another set of mouths to feed with me.” 

Iseldir didn’t say anything at first as he downed the content of his cup in a few sips, but when he did, he shook his head in understandment, “No harm done, your presence also means another good set of hands to help around, and we’ve had our fair amount of good harvests this season so far. There’s plenty of food and space for your people.” His eyes wandered towards Merlin for a second before he went back to keep his attention on his fellow druid, “I’ve heard you were once settled in Camelot, close to the Valley of the Fallen Kings, or am I mistaken?” 

Eachainn shook his head, “No, I’m afraid you aren’t. Things weren’t as dangerous there until recently, we’ve had to flee our original spot when discovered by bandits, our group numbers had been decimated until only us remained. Then, we were swarmed by Knights of Camelot… We've already lost many of our people not so long ago” The grip he held on his cup tightened seemingly, shoulders tense as he remembered that day. “If it hadn’t been for Lord Emrys who just happened to run into one of our younglings, Carlyn, who had managed to escape, I’m sure we would have…” He stopped when his voice cracked, and Merlin couldn’t help but feel as his gaze softened at the other’s expression. It was obvious that the events of day's priors had just sinked in completely for him, and he was starting to come to terms with what could have been, if Merlin hadn’t been there to hear Carlyn’s pleading calls. They all would’ve died at the hands of the knights, unable to defend themselves or their loved ones. They were completely powerless and defenseless in the face of their attackers. 

Merlin raised his free hand and grasped the other’s shoulder, giving a comforting squeeze to try and soothe the other, and remind him that they were all alive and well. It was over and they didn’t need to fear any more. Iseldir didn’t say anything, but the look he sent Eachainn’s way spoke of what he felt; Understandment, shared sadness and loss. There were no words worth saying, an ‘I’m sorry’ would mean nothing between two persons who had witnessed their own families been taken cruelly from them, many good people losing their lives in front of their eyes, with the responsibility of being the chiefs of their respective settlements, the weight on their shoulders, the pressure of all these lives depending on them, on their wisdom, protection and guidance. What could they say? ‘I’m sorry we’ve to live this way’, ‘I'm sorry for your loss’? It wasn’t anyone’s fault. There was nothing to say.

The heavy silence surrounding them remained for a few minutes before Iseldir spoke, eyes glued to his hands, which still held the cup between them and played with it, “I’m afraid things aren’t better around these parts.” He sighed and straightened in his seat, “Here, we’re secluded and hidden from Cenred’s men, but it is only a matter of time before they start scouting closer and closer. I’ve forbidden the young to leave the camp, and instructed the elders to remain in pairs and not wander too far from here. To be mindful of any kind of trails they might leave behind and endanger our presence being revealed. However, it doesn’t matter, Cenred has already taken many of us not so sunsets ago.” 

Merlin frowned and held back a low growl that rumbled inside his throat at the mention of Cenred. He clenched his teeth, trying to hold back the way his magic wanted to flare out in anger against the king of Essetír. Undeserving of his throne, when he didn’t care of his subjects or the outskirts villages like Ealdor, vulnerable to any kind of sacking and attacks. Not content with that, the man also takes pride in kidnapping magic users to enslave them, whether as part of his army or for his own… Entertainment. In his first life, Merlin remembers the way he had to hide when he was a kid, because his mother was scared that word of his magic would reach Cenred’s ears and his men would be at their doorstep to take her baby away from her. Just imagining Cenred trying to control him, to use his power for his own gain, to conquer, to destroy everything at his pace leaving nothing behind. Who gave him the right to think all magic users had to bend to his will, that Magic itself was his to wield, to master? The people he took were those that only knew how to use their magic for small, meaningless things, like helping tidy their homes up, assist them on their chores and the like, or even to heal, they were farmers, healers, builders, parents; Fathers, mothers, sons, daughters. Brothers, sisters. — Family of someone that would’ve to live with the knowledge that they might never see them again, barely beginning to think what exactly they were suffering at Cenred’s hands.

Oh man, how he wishes to show him what a real sorcerer was like. 

“Who?” He inquired Iseldir, who winced at the sudden sound of his voice after Merlin had remained silent for the entire conversation. The man turned to him and blinked in surprise, so he added, “Who has Cenred– ” The way he spat the other’s name with such venom made the other two straighten in their seats, hearing the muffled growl that threatened to leave the other. “-Taken from your people, Iseldir? Make a list for me, if possible.”

Iseldir seemed to pass saliva down his throat, but didn’t question the reason behind his words, he immediately complied. “Three men, two women and four kids were taken approximately a moon ago. I am afraid they didn’t have any family left, all except Aithne, her fiancé remains with us, however his mind is terribly torn by grief.”

He nodded in understandment, “What’s his name? I’d like to speak with him.” 

“Would that be wise, my Lord?” Eachainn chimed in, confused. 

Merlin rose from his seat and smiled, “Someone should tell him I’ll set off to find his soon-to-be bride, after all.” He is well-aware Cenred makes sure to keep every sorcerer he is brought alive for as long as they’re useful to him, and druids were excellent healers. So there was a high probability Aithne and the rest were still alive. 

He’d feel they were still alive, and Merlin can’t sit still when he can do something about it. 

And if Cenred dared to resist– Well, he was in for a blast. 

After speaking with Aithne’s fiancé, Sylren, Merlin was provided with the rest of the kidnapped people’s names by Iseldir, and he made sure to engrave their names into his brain to make sure he’d remember them. Sylren had been coping with his betrothed’s disappearance as bad as Iseldir had described it, there were prominent dark bags under his eyes due to sleep deprivation, he was thin and he was starting to fade away despite the others’ attempts in trying to nurse him back to health. He barely reacted when Merlin spoke to him, but there was some acknowledgement in his eyes when he saw him and a woman announced his visit, “Lord Emrys is here to have a word with you.” She said and bowed to Merlin before leaving them alone.

Merlin returned his attention to the scrawny boy –Gods, he was barely a man. It pained him to see someone so young like this. It reminded him of how he had been when he lost Freya. – and his gaze softened, “Sylren.” He addressed gently, and the man barely managed to utter a, “Milord…” That sounded so frail and exhausted Merlin could barely hear it. “Chief Iseldir has told me about your betrothed.”

Sylren’s gaze wandered to focus on the roof of the cave from where he was laying down on a makeshift bed, “We…” He started, merely a whisper that Merlin managed to hear once he got closer. “We were supposed to get married next moon…My Aithne, she was so…So beautiful and she glowed as the date of our wedding neared… She cared for everyone and anyone, and when she smiled…I simply forgot how to breath” An smile tugged at his lips, but it soon died out, “She believed in you…And dreamed of the day we’d be free, of the day she’d have her own house, and a form a family…W-without having to fear anymore…” Sylren’s eyes crystallized with tears that never fell, “I’m not a druid by birth, but she was…And I started to believe in you too because of her. Now…N-now I’m lost. I’m lost without her.” 

Knowing anything else wasn’t worth saying, Merlin schooled his expression, “Sylren. Look at me.” He hesitated but after a beat he obliged, his puffy eyes finally meeting his own. Merlin held the boy’s gaze as he said, “I’ll bring her back. Or at least, will bring you some kind of closure– I swear, in my magic,” He placed a hand on his chest, just above his heart, “-That Cenred won’t ever hurt any of you anymore, now that I am here.”

Sylren didn’t reply, but there was no need as Merlin bowed his head humbly and left the man to rest. Iseldir saw him off with a warning, “Cenred must not be underestimated, Emrys. Unfortunately for us, he is a powerful king. One mistake, and you might sign our deaths.” 

Merlin could only smile slightly, his magic was restless, longing and chanting for the blood of the shameless king ruling over Essetír, calling for his death and fear, whispering in his ears pleads of closure and vengeance alike. He hushed them down as he spoke, “What is he, but another man believing the world is theirs to take. I’ve already overlooked his deeds for a long, it is time I take matters into my own hands.”

Iseldir bowed and let him part then. The sky roared with thunder as his magic engulfed him in a teleportation seal, and his form vanished in the wind. 

In a blink, Cenred had a raging god at his doorstep, demanding to see him. The guards at the gates to the castle flinched at his sudden presence, not even realizing Merlin was there, not until he approached them and stood before them, “What business do you have here, commoner?!”

Holding back a growl, Merlin mocked them with a smirk, “Good evening. I wish to speak with your king. I come instead of the druids, and demand an audience with King Cenred” One of the guards, the older one, unsheathed his sword and pointed it to Merlin, who eyed the blade amusedly and did not back down, “No one can demand an audience with the King!”

Merlin sighed, the flame of the torches lighting the main plaza danced dangerously in his eyes, “I am afraid,” he mused, “–that I wasn’t asking.”  

Before the man could do anything, Merlin’s eyes flashed a burning gold and his sword turned to dust in his hands, falling to the cold stone floor, he quickly followed suit as with only a movement of his golden orbs, the man was sent flying and hit the pillar behind him harshly, he fell unconscious the moment his head collided with the sturdy wall. Merlin turned towards the younger guard who flinched in his stead, a fearful look in his face as his hands shook and the sword he was holding slipped off his hands. Merlin had no intention in attacking someone so young, instead he smiled politely and bowed his head, “Announce my presence to your king. Tell him Emrys, High Lord of the Druids, would like an audience with him.” 

The young guard could only nod and stormed off with shaking legs. And Merlin stood there, hoping Cenred would be wise enough to not keep him waiting, before his mood worsened. 

Patience, was something he has always struggled with, after all.

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.

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The doors to the throne room opened with such abruptness almost everyone there winced, watching as one of the younger guards stormed inside, stopping just in front of the throne a man with long hair was sitting on, his legs hanging from the side as he played with a dagger between his fingers. The boy panted, trying to regain control on his own breath, failing drastically to do so, “Your Majesty!” He wheezed, finally gaining the man’s attention on him.

Cenred seemed quite bored, and after a glance he returned to the blade he was playing with, “Speak up.” he ordered, and while the rest of the guards snickered, the young guard gulped down saliva and stood straighter, keeping his head low. “My Lord, there’s someone at the gates requesting–” He hesitated, his fretful eyes focusing on everything but the man sitting on the throne, “an audience with you, My Lord.” At that, Cenred groaned and sat correctly on his throne, staring down at the boy, “Dismiss him. I do not have any interest in whatever business they dare to bring to me.”

“He was…Pretty demanding, sire.” he breathed, “He has magic and declared himself to be called ‘Emrys’ ...High Lord of the Druids.” 

Cenred stared in silence before he bursted into frenetic laughter, slapping his knee and bending on himself. His laughter kept on for a minute before he seemingly calmed down and his chuckles died out. “That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in a while. The Druids do not have such an organization, believe me, I would know.” His council snickered alongside him, “They’re nothing but people living in the woods like filthy animals.”

“B-but, sire–” The boy tried to warn him but was silenced when Cenred raised his voice to shut him up, “Enough! Do not bother me with such things, boy!” He turned to one of his knights, “Seize the sorcerer, and bring him to me.” 

Before they’d moved, a foreign set of steps echoed down the hall before a new voice resounded behind the young boy, who stiffened and quickly moved out of the way, “I don’t think that’d be necessary.” 

A man with a dark- blue cloak, long dark hair framing his face and light yet piercing blue eyes, stood in the middle of the throne room, an amused expression on his face. “I must apologize for my intrusion, but I don’t like to be kept waiting, and the gates were open, so I took the liberty to invite myself in, if it’s not a bother.” 

Cenred straightened in his seat, while the others among the room unsheathed their weapons, ready to attack the stranger that just walked through the doors like he owned the place. The sole thought made the king feel like something was crawling underneath his skin, and he didn’t hold back the snarl, “Who are you?!” 

“I believe that your guard already announced my presence and business here, Cenred.” he spat with venom. “I am known as Emrys, and come instead of the Druids. And you, Cenred, have something that belongs to us.”

The man sneered, rising from his throne and walking down the stairs, the smirk on his face unwavering, “‘Something that belongs to you’? ” he chuckled, “You’ve no claim on anything I own, I am a King and your people live within my lands—” He stopped when he was a few meters away from the other, “You must answer to my laws.”

Emrys tilted his head in contempt, “Laws that ask us magic users to bend to your will?”

“Exactly. I own everything that puts a foot inside my land, every citizen living in my kingdom shall answer to their king. To me. I own their wills, their service, their loyalty, and I do too of those like you, the druids are not out of the equation.” he raised his hand and clenched his fist. “I certainly own you too.”

The other’s eyes narrowed as he stared at him with disgust, “You’re no owner of magic.” declared, “No man can possess something it wasn’t meant to be possessed.” 

“I do.” Cenred affirmed, his smirk widening and glanced the other up and down, “You’re within my kingdom, my land, my castle . Standing in the middle of my throne room, before me, and yet you dare not bow to me.” He growled. “On your knees, sorcerer.” ordered.

However, Emrys didn’t budge. Even so, he kept unyielding direct eye-contact with him all along, barely even blinking as his scowled deepened, “No.”  

Cenred’s immediate reaction was fury, but Emrys did not flinch, “Do you dare defy your King?!”

The flames of the torches litting the place up seemed to burn brighter as the sorcerer held his stance, and the young guard that had witnessed already a blink of the power he wielded cowered in the corner of the room, “You’re no king of mine.”

Cenred’s smirk returned, taking a few steps back, “We shall see about that. When I’m done with you, you’ll kneel before your king, sorcerer. All of your people will! ” He turned to his guards and gestured to them, “Guards, seize the sorcerer.” 

The sound of the swords being unsheathed filled the room, but the alleged barely spared the approaching armed men a glance, before his eyes settled in Cenred, “I’d advise you against defying me, Cenred. You’re playing with forces you don’t understand.” 

“I told you already,” The so-called-King proclaimed, sitting back in his throne, “Anything that enters my kingdom belongs to me, so do you, and your people. You’ll serve your king well, but first, swear your loyalty to me.” 

“There’s only one king I serve,” Emrys voice was deep, low. And the temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees. “—And you don’t happen to be him.”

Before the guards could lay a hand on him, one glance, and the sorcerer’s eyes burned a bright gold, and they were sent flying across the room, hitting the walls. Those that approached from the other side had their swords and weapons slipping from their hands, and they found they couldn’t move any longer. Petrified and only able to move their eyes across the room. Frozen. At the sight, Cenred’s eyes widened and he rose from his seat, “What are you doing, you fools?!” He sneered, “Seize him!” None of them moved, not even those of the council, there were guards rushing down the hall, but before they could reach the throne room, the doors closed in their faces and they were locked out of the room, it didn’t matter how hard they banged against the door, the wood did not budge. 

The gold of Emrys’ eyes dimmed down, and his magic stopped then, staring up at Cenred. He didn’t even move from where he was standing. “Are you willing to hear my demands now? Or should I crumble your castle to the ground?”

“Such insolence!” Cenred roared, reaching for the swords strapped to his back, “No one is that powerful! Forget my guards, I’ll have you myself!” However, he grabbed into nothing but thin air, and when he glanced in confusion, saw that his weapons had disappeared abruptly. When he turned towards his foe, the gold from his eyes was fading.

“I believe you won’t be needing that.” Emrys concluded, eyes returning to that breathtaking shade of blue. “I wish no harm to come to you, or your people, Cenred. That isn’t what brings me here, but if you keep defying me, I am afraid my patience will run out.”

Unable to do anything else now that he was unarmed and unaided, Cenred let his arms fall at each side of his body, glancing at the other with wariness and fury, “What brings you here, then?” 

Relief washed over the druid? – leader but he quickly schooled his expression, “It has been brought to my attention that you’ve some of my people within your ranks.” 

Cenred fought the urge to roll his eyes, uninterested in the topic at hand, but incapable of doing anything but listening to what the intruder had to say, “They use their magic to serve their king. It answers me.”

The torches burn brighter with the rage that flashed through Emrys’ eyes, “Magic answers to no one! Least of all you! The druids are under my protection, so if you value your kingdom, you’ll release them at once!” 

“Are you threatening me?” he growled, but before he’d advance, he felt something collide against him and in a blink, he was sitting on his throne, legs and arms bound to the sit by some-kind of invisible restrictions, and it didn’t matter how much he struggled against them, they did nothing but tighten. “Release me, sorcerer!”  

Emrys’ expression remained devoid of any emotion, but his eyes flashed with suppressed fury. From outside, the room was illuminated by white light, followed by thunder roaring in the sky that had darkened even when it wasn't supposed to be sunset, at least not for a few more hours. The noise his feet made as he made his way up the stairs to the throne echoed in the almost empty room, until the young man was standing in front of him, his expression was contorted, and his gentle, delicate features were twisted by anger, and Cenred felt like he couldn’t breathe, not daring to avert his gaze from the sight before him. Emrys’ eyes were of an electric blue as he stared down at his own, and his hair was swaying around his head by an invisible breeze that he couldn’t feel. “You’re in no position to make demands, Cenred. ” 

The way he spat his name made Cenred’s blood run cold in his veins, and something akin to thrill crawl under his skin and down his back. The room was abruptly so cold that he was shaking– No, he was cold. Was this fear? 

Oh, he wanted him. 

The young man– No, the thing standing before him leaned over him slightly, and for the first time in his life, Cenred felt intimidated. And the thought shouldn’t be as exciting as it was making him feel. Emrys remained oblivious to his turmoil, “You will release my people at once, or risk suffering my rage. I’ll curse your land in the name of the Old Religion, I’ll turn your wealth to dust, and hand you to your people, who will starve because of you, I will let them do what they want to you. I’ll watch as you turn to nothing but the mere mortal you are, crownless, wealthless— Forgotten. No one will ever remember you, Cenred. Your legacy will be nothing but a tale of your idiocy. Everyone will know how you defied the Magic of our world, how you defied me, and wronged those that follow me. Keep testing my patience, Cenred, and I will tear your castle apart, brick by brick, and let you handle the aftermath.”

The warmth of the room returned, and Emrys stepped back, just then Cenred felt like the air returned to his lungs, and he coughed, still bid to his throne. The doors to the throne room bursted open, and about over ten of his men stormed inside, armed and readied, but almost tripping when the door finally budged under their strength. “Your Majesty!” the knight in the front stiffened when he saw Emrys, who had turned to face them, “The sorcerer, kill him!”

Before they’d attack, they halted when Cenred’s voice echoed across the room, and even Emrys seemed taken aback by his interruption, one hand already raised and gold dimming from his eyes, turning to stare at the king with wide eyes. “Enough!” The men stopped and gaped, completely confused as to why their king was asking them to not defend him when there was a sorcerer threatening his life standing before them. “But, sire–”

Cenred gripped tighter the armrests of his throne, “I said, enough, you fools!” He growled, his eyes wandered towards Emrys, who was as surprised, and then he sighed in defeat, “The lots of you, go to the cells and bring all the druids to the main plaza at once! I forbid you of harming them” He added when he felt Emrys’ glare burning at the side of his head. 

They hesitated, but when the king snarled, “Now!” — They rushed through the doors and left, it was then he felt that his limbs had been freed from its restraints, and Cenred massaged his sore arms. Emrys stood before him and spared a wary, suspicious, look at him, “If you try anything, Cenred–”

“You’ll have my head on a pike.” The man reasoned, and rose from his throne, “I know perfectly when I’ve been outmatched. I’ll reply accordingly to your demands,, no catch and no strings attached, my Lord.”

Merlin couldn’t help but blink and gape internally as he processed the way the other just addressed him— What did he just call me?!

Okay, out of all the possible outcomes, he didn’t expect this.

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‘Offend a god, and they might humble themselves. Threaten a God’s people, they will tear you apart, for what is a mortal to a God, but a mere speck of dust?’

Chapter Text

Merlin was starting to think that it’d be better if he started back again with meditation, something he hasn’t done in a few decades and– For the Triple Goddess, wasn’t it starting to show! He really shouldn’t be so quick to anger or lose his temper, but after centuries of little to none social interaction aside from some clueless humans here and there along the history, and his infuriatingly long life, he found that he was too tired to keep himself in check, and his rebellious magic wasn’t helping, at all. The moment he stormed into Cenred’s castle –Was he being dramatic? Yes. Does he really care? Clearly not enough. Because how would it be of use fifteen hundred years otherwise? Believe him, he had way more drama from the unknown box that one came from. – and stood in front of the man in question, his magic was restless, urging him to do something against this person, it crawled under his skin until the burning, aching sensation left his body feeling numb, until there was nothing but memories of all the ways Cenred had wronged people like him– His people! – before, some were not ones he recognized, others were accordingly his, but they were all there with a sole purpose; Edge him to the point he ought- desired to kill Cenred right where the man sat, on his throne, display his body on the plaza and send a clear message to all who tried to force magic to  unwillingly do their bidding, magic that wasn’t given to them, that wasn’t theirs to command.

He barely managed to keep his magic from lashing out, but the longer he stood in the other’s presence, more restless and furious it was, Merlin could feel his magic sway around him in an angry dance, making the torches in the throne room burn brighter, and the wind outside worsen, like a storm was coming. But the true storm was standing in front of Cenred, and Merlin had less and less excuses to give his magic and justify the lack of the other’s blood splaying the cold floor, blood they kept chanting for. Hurt him! — demanded, in the same way they did back with the Knights of Camelot, we want the terrible king gone, they growled in his ear with such intensity Merlin had to actively block them out, control that wavered throughout their…‘Chat’. Cenred being an oblivious idiot and actually provoking the clear powerful sorcerer standing in front of him was certainly not helping.

So what if Merlin overdid it? At least Cenred, oh god he hated him so much, would know what he was up against the moment he decided to enslave his people and turn them into tools and weapons without a mind of their own. No one could blame him for actually scaring Essetír’s so-called ruler after all the things he had done to the druids and countless others, it serves the brute right. Killing him would’ve been so easy, Merlin could’ve got rid of this pitiful, little mortal with as much as one snap of his fingers, but what good would that be for his people? If he forcefully dethroned Cenred, surely word of the throne of Essetír being abruptly unoccupied, an entire kingdom without a ruler, would get to the other four kingdoms and specifically to Uther, and Merlin didn’t want the King of Camelot, or anyone for that matter, after his head because news of the apparition of a extremely powerful sorcerer spread through Albion like wildfire and the others felt suddenly threatened, even though Merlin had not intentions of dethroning anyone else but Cenred. 

Yes, basically Cenred was still alive simply because of downright spite because if things were different Merlin would’ve obliterated him from existence with a lightning, and then he and Nimueh could form a club of ‘People whom Emrys has struck with a lightning’ in the afterlife– Oh god, Nimueh is still alive.

Bloody hell, Merlin certainly has to take a look into that and keep an eye on a certain High Priestess and her growing hate for Uther –Not that he blames her, but he couldn’t let Uther die at the hands of magic, not again, because that’d drive Arthur away from his goal, Albion might not arrive if Uther dies that way. No, the man has to pass away under other circumstances so Arthur could take the throne, but certainly not now. The prince is yet to be ready for such a responsibility, Merlin still had to make sure he’d be…well, less of a prat, by the moment he’d sit in the throne of Camelot wearing his father’s crown. – before she was able to get on with her plans to destroy Uther and Camelot. Merlin wonders if there’s still time to save her too, he does not fancy the idea of having to kill her twice, the same way he doesn’t really want to have to kill Morgause or Morgana if he’d help it. The less murders he had to plot the merrier. 

So as he finally made his point across, and Cenred was shivering under his icy glare, Merlin took a deep breath and got a hold over his magic, forcing it to stop and, in consequence, letting the doors to the throne room open seemingly by the force of the knights who had been banging unstopping on the wooden doors for a while now, those that had been petrified by him had been freed from his magic and were now able to move freely, although they cowered under his gaze and didn’t try anything, whether to run or attack him.

Seeing the over twenty knights storming into the room, Merlin was already preparing himself to fight them off before they’d attack him, and was really awestruck at Cenred’s sudden commanding tone echoing and bringing the men’s attack to an abrupt halt. Them all, including Merlin, staring up at the so-called ruler with surprise and confusion clear on their faces. Cenred seemed unfazed by this, still bid to his throne by the magical restraints Merlin still had him under, he clearly was uncomfortable with this because the grip on the armrests of the throne seemingly tightened to the point his knuckles went white by the strength, “I said, enough, you fools!” He growled, Merlin found his eyes that wandered towards him, raised arm finally falling back to where it once rested against his body. What was Cenred planning? 

To his account, at least Cenred knew when to accept that he was clearly at the losing side at the moment, because he sighed and returned his eyes to his men, “The lots of you, go to the cells and bring all the druids to the main plaza at once!” Merlin sent him a warning glare which he seemingly felt, because he quickly added to appease the strong being standing close to him “—I forbid you of harming them.”

They hesitated, but when the king snarled, “Now!” — They rushed through the doors and left, it was then that Merlin finally remembered the restraints still bidding the king to his throne and let him go under a warning, “If you try anything, Cenred–”

“You’ll have my head on a pike.” The man reasoned, and rose from his throne, “I know perfectly when I’ve been outmatched. I’ll reply accordingly to your demands, no catch and no strings attached, my Lord.”

Merlin couldn’t help but blink and gape internally as he processed the way the other just addressed him— What did he just call me?!

Okay, out of all the possible outcomes, he didn’t expect this. Why was Cenred suddenly treating him as a Lord?! — Merlin then remembered why, and barely resisted the urge to smack himself because of course Cenred would treat him as a Lord, when that was how he introduced himself as when he stormed into the castle, right? He called himself ‘High Lord of the Druids’ because that was actually the title he had gained in his first life, after Arthur died and Gwen reigned over Camelot, he had been her Court Sorcerer for a few years, and helped her from an alliance between the kingdom and the druids, it was due to that that he unwillingly became their official leader during the peace talks and after too. And while he does not like it one bit, he had long since given up on trying to stop rational magical beings and other sorcerers from addressing him with such formalities. 

He didn’t expect to ever hear it coming from Cenred’s mouth of all people though, and he couldn’t help but remind himself of keeping his guard up at that, what was he planning with suddenly considering him an official Lord? There was surely a catch in all of this, and Merlin had a bad feeling about it.

The bad feeling prevailed as Cenred, a few –Very confused– knights, and he made their way through the deserted halls and into the Main Plaza. 

This time, however, it wasn’t as empty as before, Merlin couldn’t help but feel extremely uncomfortable at being under the scrutiny of so many people, but he forced himself to focus on the small group of people standing in front of the gates surrounded by four knights who bowed the moment they caught sight of their king. It didn’t take genius to notice that they were all the druids who had been taken by Cenred, but Merlin noted there were more than those Iseldir told him that were kidnapped recently, and the thought just made his stomach turn in disgust; a group of at least fifteen people stood in front of him.

This group of people, young, elderly and children dressed up in clothing, if it could be still called that when it really was nothing more than filthy rags, looking pale, their fretful eyes wandering from the knights around them, Cenred and him, the look on those faces, the confusion, the fear— Those were his people, the people he was supposed to take care of, who believed in him because it was the only stable thing in their lives, the only thing their pursuers couldn't take from them, and by just one sight Merlin had to close his eyes, take a deep breath, and contain his magic that wanted nothing more but burst out of him and attack the responsible for this. 

Instead, he let it reach out towards them and wrap around the entire group like a giant warm blanket, wanting to make them feel better and safe, put them at ease and also protect them from the ice cold wind. It was starting to get dark so the temperature had dropped a few degrees. Merlin couldn’t feel it because his magic naturally protected him from any environment changes that’d harm his body, but by the way they’d see each other’s breath with each exhale they took, it was obvious how cold it was at this time of the day. Upon feeling his magic around them, most druids stiffened in their places and raised up their heads, their gazes wandering around trying to find the source of the warmth that had suddenly wrapped around them, some others like the children relaxed seemingly while the few elders of the group connected their gazes with Merlin, who only could give them an sympathetic smile before Cenred spoke and his attention went to the king. 

“Druids,” Cenred started, and while his gaze fell onto the group of filthy, shivering people in front of him, there was only disgust. “—Lord Emrys has come to me and demanded his people to be freed of their duties, and I gladly decided to indulge his request ” He spat, and Merlin’s scowl deepened. At least his glare was enough to keep Cenred in check, whose eyes fell on him for a millisecond, took a tentative inhale of air, and resumed his words, “As so, I, King Cenred of Lot, hereby free you from your dutiful servings to the crown and as such, leave you to return to…Wherever it was that you lot lived before.” he waved dismissively with his hand as the druids shared a few awestruck looks among them, then their shocked gazes settled on Merlin whose features softened the moment he caught their sight.

Then, they all broke into murmurs and whispers, some of them reached his ears, brought by his magic as a whirl of wind, “Lord Emrys?” they inquired to one another, sending confused looks around, “What’s Lord Emrys doing here?” Some even sounded worried, and Merlin sighed internally, if only they knew the true extent of his power, they’d have nothing to worry about. Although, not even he knows his own limitations, besides the clear laws he had to follow to keep up the balance of Life and Death, given that Time apparently could be bent one way or another. 

Again, his attention drifted to Cenred, who addressed the closest knight to his left, “I’ll tell my men to escort you outside the citadel.” However, before he’d give straight orders, Merlin approached his people with an steady and confident pace, walking until he was face to face, giving his back to the others behind him, including Cenred. Because if there was something Merlin didn’t really care, was being respectful to Cenred of all people. He met countless rulers, some deservers of his respect, others like Cenred, not so much, and formalities had never been his strong suit either way, and probably it won’t ever be. “That won’t be necessary, I can take it from here.”

He made eye-contact with the group of druids, some were still giving him shocked expression as they stared up at him, others were a little wary or hopeful, silently praying that this was not a lie of some sort and that their Lord Emrys was truly there to take them home and keep them safe. 

The pure hope shining in the youngests’ faces was enough to make him smile, “I know y’all are really confused and do not understand what’s going on. Although I can’t explain everything at the moment, I promise to do so once we’re in a safer place. The only thing I can ask of you is to trust me, even if we’ve never met before.” Merlin addressed them softly, voice too low and quiet, only meant for them to hear. “Everything will be different from now on, I swear. There’s nothing to fear anymore.” Now that I am here— Left unsaid, but the effect was still immediate, when a woman with dark brunette hair bursts into tears with her hands clenched together against her chest in a silent prayer, the rest quickly followed suit as relief washed over all of them and the tension finally vanished from their shoulders. They started to whisper a chorus of a few prayers and grateful cries only meant for him to hear, as they were solely directed to their savior, now standing in front of them.

Merlin’s smile widened at their relief, but he quickly schooled his expression. They needed to get out of here, and he’d like to do it in a quiet way, so he cleared his throat and addressed them once again, at that, they quickly fell into silence as Merlin finally turned back to stare at Cenred, who had not moved one inch from where he stood in the stairs, “We’ll make our way out of here by our own foot and stay out of your hair.” — Only if you stay out of ours. The silent threat lingered in the air, and it was clear Cenred and some of the council noticed by the way Merlin caught them stiffening under his glare. 

Fortunately, no one argued, so Merlin started urging everyone towards the closest exit out of the citadel, his magic reached forward, getting ahead of the rest of the group and showing him in quick flashes the path to take. They needed to get out of Cenred’s and his men’s sight so he’d teleport the whole group to Iseldir’s camp for the sake of their safety. However, just as he was trailing behind him, the howl of something swiftly piercing the air in his direction made his pace come to an abrupt halt, Merlin felt his magic bursting to life from under his skin and then the noise suddenly stopped just as he was turning around to see what was going on. His light blue eyes darkened at the sight, coming face to face with the floating arrow that his magic stopped mere centimeters away from its objective, which happened to be him.

How dare they— His magic growled in his head, furious at the ridiculousness of these bunch of humans. While an arrow to the head would mean certain death, even for a creature of magic like him, –If his magic couldn’t stop it first, of course– Merlin would not, as a matter of course, stay dead. And he would certainly appreciate not having to go through a revival in front of so many people, including his own, whose breath he heard hitch behind him and shriek at what’d certainly be a murder attempt. Merlin’s eyes left the arrow for the sake of making eye contact with whoever shot the arrow to him, he couldn’t see them at first sight as they must be hidden, so instead, his eyes flashed gold for a millisecond before shooting the offending projectile towards one of the council members that stood the closest to Cenred, right at the king side.

Just when it was about to make contact with the man’s head, Merlin merely moved his head and all movement coming from the arrow halted mere inches away from the noble’s temple. The latter’s eyes widened and he only managed to gasp, startled because of having been so close to dying if Merlin hadn’t stopped the arrow at the right moment. Everyone else, including Cenred and the knights, stiffened and watched as the man lost his balance and fell on his backside. 

Merlin raised his hand and retreated the arrow, completely satisfied by the looks on their faces; He had proved to them just how easy it’d be for him to kill them all before they’d even process what was going on, because if Merlin had so desired, they’d all be dead by now, and the fact they weren’t was because he didn’t want to. 

Now, they had been terrifyingly aware of that fact, if they hadn’t already.

Closing his hand into a fist like he was clutching something, the arrow snapped like a twig under an invisible force and its broken pieces fell to the floor. That might have been uncalled for, but Merlin was little pissed off and he found delight in seeing the way some paled further at the action. After all, he might not like to consider himself a deity of some kind, but he was a creature of the Old Religion for a lack of a better description, and as one, such things like these felt like some kind of… Disrespect. And his magic didn’t appreciate the thought one bit. 

However, he relaxed when nothing else happened and their walk out of the city walls had been quite uneventful. Once away from prying eyes, Merlin sighed and finally addressed his people once again, “Who out of all of you is ‘Aithne’?” He inquired, curious, as his gaze wandered throughout the entire group, looking for whoever might that be. He made sure to soften his tone and expression and keep his posture open and relaxed, so they’d not feel threatened by his presence, or intimidated by the anger that had moments prior filled his eyes. Some shared a few looks between each other, until a girl with light brunette hair took a step further and tentatively raised a hand, she looked hesitant for a second but spoke clearing her throat beforehand in a nervous quirk, “That- That would be me, My Lord.” Disbelief was still clear in her eyes, like she was trying to come to terms with the fact that he was standing right in front of her and somehow knew her name.

Merlin provided her with a small, tender smile that was the only thing he’d muster at the moment, the anger from before just beginning to subside inside his stomach, “Your fiance is waiting for you. I told him I’d bring you back, he misses you.” The moment his words sank in was visible in Aithne’s expression when her eyes watered and were filled with tears that quietly fell down her cheeks. To her account, she quickly raised her hands to wipe them away before giving a small, watery smile. “I…I miss him too.” 

After a few beats of silence, Merlin schooled his expression once again when he addressed them, “I’m going to need your help for this, though. Everybody, hold hands with one another and don’t let go, alright?” He made sure to put emphasis in the ‘do not’ because it was crucial that they held onto each other to avoid…Accidents. Space-travel spells were something tricky and dangerous, he had more than enough energy to do several, one after the other, without feeling as much as a little dizzy if he overdid it, or if the distance between his target destination and his former position was too great –even for him—, and while he is pretty sure that he’d teleport multiple people at the same time without sweating a single drop, to avoid any kind of accidents or injuries, there had to be some sort of connection between the objects for it to work without problems, whether physical, bloodline or magical. If there wasn’t, the slightest thing that’d happen was for a few individuals to end up stranded from the group and appearing in China, and stay trapped there until Merlin could track them and go fetch them, and given that his scrying abilities weren’t very developed, that might take hours before he is able to do so, and the worst that could happen is someone ending up crippled, missing a limb, or in the worst, worst scenario straight up dead . And he’d like to avoid that. 

Fortunately for all of them, his warning seemed to sink in and after sharing a few startled looks, they were all holding hands in a large half-circle, and at the sight Merlin sighed in relief and held out his own hands for those that were at his sides to hold, “Everyone hold tight, I don’t want anyone to end up in the Perilous Lands by accident.” Or in Alaska, as a matter of course, and he’d prefer to not have to answer why he knows that place is a high possibility. Let’s just say that he had too much time in his early centuries for spell experimentation and one time had made some fatal miscalculations which led to him ending up in Alaska, before it was called Alaska, and worshiped by a secluded eskimo village that saw him appear from seemingly thin air. Anyway, the druids at each side held onto his hand and upon his warning their grasp tightened in a shaking hold, all of them quite anxious to see what exactly was he about to do. “I must warn you, though, that space-travel won’t feel nice the first time and it’ll most likely upset your stomach. But as long as you don’t let go everything will be fine.”

One of the younger boys hesitantly inquired, “What happens if we let go?”

Merlin sent him a smile, “You don’t want to know.” he chirped happily ignoring their horrorified gazes, before schooling his expression and closing his eyes to start channel his magic and start chanting the spell, one he had created a while ago when the normal space-transportation spells didn’t work for him or had atrocious results when exposed to his magic. He guided his magic to reach out to the elements around them, and carefully traced in his mind the place he desired for them to go to, making sure the image was detailed enough to avoid mistakes, he imagined the outskirts of the camp and its surroundings, each tree and each rock and bush his memory provided him with, his magic swirled around them and he felt the wind pick up around them in a sort of dance he couldn’t see with his eyes closed. If he had been watching, he’d have seen how what little daylight was left had been obscured by the darkening clouds concentrating over their heads with lightning and thunder echoing in the distance. Merlin opened his eyes then once he was done with the spell, eyes shining a bright golden tone that litted his face and those around him, no one had ever seen any magic user’s eyes shine like that, so they were speechless and anything they’d have said died in their throats. 

Mere seconds after, a thunder roared and the world around them snapped and twisted, disappearing in what had felt like a blink, and now they were somewhere else entirely. For some, the scenery was familiar and known, for others it wasn’t. They were completely disoriented, almost like a fish out of the water. Merlin let go of his magic and turned around to take in his new surroundings, and once he noticed they were in the right place, his shoulders relaxed and he let go of the hands that still held his –With a little too much strength, enough to leave a bruise, but Merlin didn’t comment on it or even flinch at the sight of their terrified, awed and confused expressions– and taking that as a cue, the rest also let go, although a bit hesitant and fearful, as if something was going to implode if they did so. When nothing of the sort happened, the rest followed suit and relaxed.

 However, the wonder was broken when some looked a little green on the face, doubled up and threw up all the contents in their stomach, the rest looked a bit pale, but otherwise seemed to be holding up just fire, better than Merlin expected them to, actually. So with a sigh, he reached up to them, one at a time, and gently placed a hand on their backs, “Sorry, I said it’d not be a pleasant experience.” With his caresses, he let his magic reach out and slowly put them at ease with so much care and tenderness he surprised himself. 

Once they were better and ready to go, he guided the group towards Iseldir’s camp, having chosen this spot to transport to because this way they didn’t have to worry of disgruntling the camp or scaring anyone. “This way, follow me.” They all did without a single complaint, and it didn’t take long before they had found the camp. Most had already moved inside to sleep, but he was a little surprised to find Iseldir and Eachainn seemingly waiting for them to return right at the entrance, their faces lit up the moment they caught a glance of Merlin, and relief washed over them when they saw the people trailing behind them. At the noise, some others stepped out of the main cave with confused faces, but upon seeing the familiar faces they thought were long gone they ran to hug their friends, and even those they didn’t know. 

The reunion was full of tears and shaking hugs, but Merlin could see the shed tears were of happiness and relief, it was just then that realization dawned upon those he had rescued from Cenred, that they were free and safe, and that it wasn’t a dream or a sweet delusion they had forced themselves to believe. It was all real— And they just broke down then. Merlin hoped they’d be fine from now on and that they’d find a chance to heal from whatever they had witnessed or suffered under Cenred’s men. However, his attention was broken when he heard Sylren’s quiet voice, almost a whisper, filled with disbelief call out one name, “A- Aithne?” Someone must’ve told him they were back, because his eyes were shining with newly found hope that Merlin hadn’t seen before, along with tears that threatened to fall. Even if his voice had been hoarse and low, Merlin saw Aithne’s head rise from where she was kneeling, soothing one of the crying girls that had broken down the moment they set foot in the camp, and immediately look around trying to find the source of the voice she just heard and swore it had been her imagination.

The rest quietened up to, as well, witness what’d be a heartful reunion, just when Aithne’s eyes found her betrothed, and both stared at each other with eyes wide in disbelief. The spell was broken when Aithne rose to her feet so quick she almost fell over, thick tears already falling down her cheeks, “SYLREN!” she cried before running up to the young man who immediately caught her in a tight embrace. His hands were shaking from the shock but when it sank in he held her tighter. None of them could talk anymore and just sobbed. 

Merlin felt his eyes sting but he quickly downed the knot that tried to settle on his throat for the sake of just smiling at the sight and enjoy the warmth that burned inside his chest. Iseldir walked up to him and bowed so deep Merlin worried he’d break his back, but the worry and panic died in his throat when the man spoke, “Thank you, Emrys. Thank you.” he whispered, and Merlin didn’t have the heart to utter the denial; he could just bite down and stop from leaving. 

Before he’d answer or stop the man from bowing any longer, the rest had seemed to follow suit, and some of the younger ones, still lively and energetic, raised a fist and declared loudly, “Long live Lord Emrys!” and although it was ridiculous, the rest chanted after them, ‘Long live Lord Emrys’ numerous times while Merlin simply stood there, eyes wide and face flushed red from embarrassment. 

He had grown too used to how energetic some younger druids could be. If anything it was Iseldir’s fault for getting him used to their cryptic demeanor. There was nothing he’d do now in the face of this happiness and devotion, even if it was incredibly embarrassing. 

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To his account, Cenred seemed to have learnt his lesson, because none of his men had been seen scouting anywhere close to the outskirts of the camp, and even if he somehow desired to provoke for longer the incredibly powerful being that had threatened him to crumble his castle to the ground and curse his land, Merlin took matters into his own hands and casted many warding spells around the settlement, taking enough territory that they had enough space to settle outside of the caves, grow their crops and fetch the water from the closest river that divided the camp and the rest of Essetír. Merlin’s spells were powerful, but for good measure –and because he was incredibly paranoid, blame Arthur and his tendency to attract life-threatening chaos to himself and others that happened to be on a mid-radius for that— he decided to try something else out.

It was extremely early, so he made his way past the river, a sturdy branch his aid to not slip in the mud, and finally settled on a clearing. 

The sun fell onto the clearing and bathed him under its golden light, and Merlin sat down on the grass and smiled, enjoying the warm rays on his skin just like a content cat would do. His hand brushed over the grass softly, pleased by the tender feeling of it gracing his fingers like silk, the grass was still a little wet from the morning dew but he didn’t care. The forest was quiet, despite the typical noises nature made in an unexpectedly well-formed harmony that he had grown to enjoy and appreciate. He still couldn’t believe he was back, that he had been given a second chance to make things right, and that now he was able to enjoy this quietness and peace once again, when in the modern ages all of this had mostly become an urbanization, with its loud as hell inhabitants and traffic. The sight of the cities was magnificent and beautiful, of course, but Merlin missed being able to just sit and appreciate nature in its utmost freedom. Unfortunately, that wasn’t why he came here in the first place, so after taking a deep breath, he let his magic free and started whistling a familiar tune.

When he was done, he stopped and waited for a while, humming quietly to himself, when the tune was returned and he smiled. While it’d have been seen as a normal whistle tune, it was actually a small low-level summoning spell that helped attract birds in your direction, the species depended on your range and magic, so Merlin wasn’t too surprised to see a small bunch of canaries settle on a branch above him, or that a few others followed suit. He was surprised, though, when he heard the familiar call of a falcon and saw a bird with light-blue feathers settle on a falling trunk, and he laughed out loud when he saw what it was. “A merlin!” he chuckled. 

Of course it’d be a merlin! It wouldn’t be the first time he summoned one using this spell, but he was genuinely surprised to see one here of all places. From what he’d remember they were native to North America, and had settled mostly there even during migration and breeding, maybe they used to be a common species in Europe during ancient times, or this one had made quite a long journey to get here so fast.

 The male merlin stared up to him and tilted his head, as if it was clearly confused as to why was it called by a human and why this eccentric human didn’t quite feel like one at all, and the other birds looked a bit uncomfortable by the presence of a predator there, but when the falcon didn’t seem to mind their presence they relaxed. Merlin laughed softly and held out his arm, “I think you might be a little too far away from home, my friend.” The young falcon’s feathers poofed at the feeling of his magic, which quickly encouraged it to fly towards him and settle on his arm. Merlin didn’t wince at the feeling of the bird’s sharp claws grasping his forearm, he just smiled and tilted his own head in contempt to mimic the animal’s. “Would you all mind doing a few chores for me?” 

The smaller birds seemed eager to comply and were given something to do, chirping happily, and Merlin instructed them to guard the entrance to the camp and pay attention to anyone wearing shiny things –armor and chainmail– and to come to him if they saw anyone like that. His magic would allow him to look into the bird’s memories and know what they saw, it was only a measure to make sure none of Cenred’s men would set foot in the surroundings of the camp. When he was done, he returned his attention to the merlin in his arm, “I’ll need you to do something else for me, something rather special, if that’d be okay?” While he knows the animals, at least non-magical, couldn’t understand him, they were intelligent enough to comprehend the intention behind his words and were sensitive to magic, something other animals weren’t, so Merlin was half-sure the falcon could understand. He raised his free hand a carefully petted the bird’s soft feathers of its neck, happy to see the other lean into his touch, “I need you to look after someone dear to me” his eyes shone gold as he connected gazes with the falcon, and entrusted some of his memories to the bird, making sure that they were little and small as to not fry the poor thing’s brain.

He first thought of Camelot, Gaius, Morgana, Arthur and Gwen, but he is pretty aware that the prat and the rest would be safe within the city for a few more years, and if he was careful, he might stop some events from happening, concretely those regarding Nimueh and her ever-growing hatred for Uther and Camelot, but unfortunately only time could tell. Now, he’d like to find the right moment to find his younger self, or rather, the Merlin of this timeline, and get the boy under his care. –it was weird to think of himself in third person, but he needed to remind himself that he wasn’t Merlin anymore, at least not here. — This Merlin deserves to know more of what he is, if he still had magic and was a dragonlord, he deserved to know of his father and Balinor deserved to know that he had a son longing to meet him. That not everything was lost during the Great Purge.

Memories of Ealdor, his mother, flashed across the merlin’s eyes, before it blinked and they were gone. Merlin smiled and stroked its feathers one last time, “I’m sure his pratness will be fine without me for a while, but I’ll make sure to pay attention to him too. You may go, now” He encouraged the falcon to fly, and it did, flying away from the clearing and into the clear skies. 

Once alone, Merlin sighed. There were so many things to do and take care of. But first of all, he needed to get a medicine bag just like the one Gaius had gifted him in his first life if he wanted to have the looks of a traveling Physician. 

So many things to do…

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Even with all the time in the world, days are only a few hours away from one another. As so, if you focus for too long on what only meets the eyes, you will start losing yourself too, until there’s nothing else.

Chapter Text

The numbers in the settlement kept growing and growing when during his outings, Merlin found more and more druids in needed of help and a place to live in, some had migrated from Camelot to Essetír and Merlin accidentally ran into them a few times, they were happy with the information that there was somewhere safer than any other along the great land of Albion. But having so many people meant that Merlin didn’t have another choice but to expand the territory they were occupying a bit more so there was enough space for everyone, their crops also had to be expanded and multiplied, although with the help of Merlin’s magic, that encouraged the crops to grow quicker, food wasn’t a problem of which they had to worry about. They had a good harvest and even new plants started to grow there more eagerly when he was around so much nowadays. He had settled a little away from the rest so as to not bother anyone with his presence, and there he made potions and medicine for anyone that needed it, they had many people and some had a few lasting wounds or the elders pain that needed to be soothed. 

While he worked, some observed with curiosity and attention, so he taught some of the recipes in case he wasn't around to make them, and they paid close attention, especially the little boy named Camran, who Merlin already suspected would want to become a healer when he grew up.

Iseldir and Eachainn continued being the only chiefs so they ran the place together, begrudgingly, of course, given that both agreed that Merlin should be in charge since everyone listened to what he had to say, but he stood his ground and refused to take in such a big responsibility. He had enough on his plate already, and he didn’t want the druids to think that they had to agree to every single thing he said because of who he was, or rather, what he was, he preferred them to have their freedom of speech and minds of their own. Despite this, they still came to him to ask his opinion on a few matters, about what he thought would be a better course of action regarding water rationing, housing and other things, and Merlin answered them honestly without noticing that he was falling into their game.

Seriously, they didn’t have the right to look so smug about it either!

When he didn’t have anything better to do with his time, he helped the children in the camp with their magic, and gently instructed them while their parents or the adults in charge of them were busy. Merlin corrected any mistakes they had with spelling and the mispronunciation of a few words he knew were complicated for them. It was then he noticed most didn’t know how to read or write, so the casual lessons quickly became something almost daily and he did his best to teach the youngest, and anyone really who wanted to learn, how to write and read, wouldn’t be the first time he did so in his life, so he was still within his comfort zone and while the older looked ashamed of asking for help, Merlin made sure they knew there was nothing embarrassing about wanting to learn or asking for help. Iseldir told him that he used to hold the same lessons for the children and the young, and that he’d take over if Merlin needed to be somewhere else, which he appreciated greatly. 

At the dawn of the second moon, Merlin set off to Ealdor. Riding the mare one of the druids had won in a bargain once at a close village that wasn’t unwelcoming of druids, they named her Little Mistress, or Missy for short, because of her arrogant demeanor, and because she had the tendency to kicking off whoever that tried to ride her, although she was calmer around children, but Merlin exclusively was the only one she let do so, she reminded Merlin of Arthur’s mare, who despised anyone that wasn’t Arthur, or Merlin, and tended to give problems to those that took care of the royal horses. At least Missy was less pratt-y even if Merlin had loved that mare and missed her dearly, he also missed his own horse that he used to ride back in Camelot during his first life, it had been a gift from Arthur although the man would never admit it, dismissing it as ‘I can’t have my own manservant slowing us down, or can I, Merlin? Besides, that one is already too much of a troublemaker for my knights’ to ride and it doesn’t like me either. It’s yours’ — which most probably was his way of hiding his embarrassment, if the pink color tinting the prince’s cheeks when he thought Merlin wasn’t looking had been anything to give by. 

Before leaving, he gave Iseldir and Eachainn identical fist-sized stones, which would sound incredibly ridiculous and crazy, but they had an use and it was that, only for emergencies, –even if it wasn’t what he was best at– Merlin had engraved a rune into the stones and enchanted it with his magic, if they broke or smashed it against the ground, it’d immediately sent off an ‘alarm’ and make a receptive rune he had painted in the skin of his left palm, glow golden and as such, would tell him that he needed to immediately go back because something was wrong. He emphasized in its use only being for a real emergency, like someone that had been attacked, someone hurt, dying or the camp as a whole being attacked. They had nodded solemnly and held onto the stone, storing it somewhere it’d be safe and within close reach. Merlin would want for the rest to have one too, but there were too many people and the runes needed recharging directly from the original magic source to continue working and Merlin couldn’t pay attention to every single one of them. Eachainn and Iseldir having them should be more than enough for the time being.

It didn’t take that long for him to reach Ealdor, no longer than two days, and the small village was already in his range of view by the end of the second day. When he reached the outskirts of the village, he dismounted Mistress and took hold of her reins to walk inside Ealdor by foot. 

He gained countless glares from the people that were finishing their daily work before going back home to prepare dinner and rest, some curious, others wary of his presence, but Merlin tried to appear as non-threatening as possible, his youthful appearance at least was helpful in doing so. Even as Avery, he had a slim figure and while he wasn’t as scrawny as he had been on his former body, this one wasn’t special…Built-up either, barely any muscle as it was. But at least he didn’t look like a child.

He took in his surroundings, feeling melancholic at the sight of his childhood home, while the other inhabitants had never been particularly welcoming of his mother and him then, Merlin found that he didn’t hate them despite what they’d believe, -Old man Seamus sure thought so, the old crow, since Merlin accidentally took down a tree with his magic and almost killed the man-. He recognized most faces, others were a blurry memory but felt familiar, but he had yet to see Will, Hunith or even this timeline’s Merlin, so he addressed an old lady he vaguely remembers didn’t hate him, and introduced himself, “Hello, I’m a traveling physician and would like a place to stay for the night. Do you happen to know who I’d go to?” 

The woman spared him a look, as if she was assessing him quietly, then to his clothes and to the stuff Missy was still carrying, the medicine bag he had managed to find in plain sight with some herbs peeking out of it a little from the inside, and another bag holding fresher herbs he had picked up in the way here, “Well, if you’re looking for a place to stay, you can go to Matthew, he might be able to help you.” She then pointed in one direction and dismissed him, “He should be somewhere around there, ask around.”

Merlin thanked her and took off with Missy by his side. He remembers Matthew, one of the few adults in Ealdor that didn’t hate his small family, while he didn’t come out of his way to help them either, at least he didn’t call his mother names or think Merlin was odd. In his first life, he had been saddened when he was killed that time Arthur, Morgana, Gwen and he went to Ealdor to try and help them against Kanen and his thugs. He still remembers the other’s face, so finding him wasn’t hard, he was talking to someone, but upon hearing the noise of hooves, turned around and faced him, confused. Merlin smiled in greeting, “Hello, my name is Avery, I’m a traveling physician in need of somewhere to stay for the night. A lady told me to come look for someone called Matthew, could you help me find him?”

The man seemed a little less uncomfortable around him, he nodded and shook Merlin’s hand in greeting, “Well, you won’t have to search far, I am Matthew. Pleasure to meet you. Aren’t you a little too young to be a physician?”

Feigning surprise, Merlin laughed at the other’s lighthearted comment, “It is what everyone always says when they meet me. Rest assured, I’m older than I look.” The man standing behind Matthew leaned in to tell him something Merlin didn’t get to hear, but he didn’t need to when Matthew nodded in return and addressed him again, “Look, I don’t know if there’s somewhere available at the moment, but I can make the arrangements if you help us with something in return. You might be able to since you’re a physician.” 

He nodded, “Someone is wounded or sick?” 

Matthew sighed, “Yes, Nerys. She has gotten sicker and sicker these last few months, we don’t have a physician, we don’t even have a healer—” He looked hesitant to utter that word. Healers were known for using knowledge that they had in magic to heal or in their potions, so they were considered sorcerers regardless of the technicisms and persecuted too. “There’s nothing we can do for her, but maybe you can. Just…If you’d try. She has a son and he already lost his father, if he also were to lose his mother…”

Merlin nodded, dismissing the tingling feeling at the back of his brain that the name of the woman was incredibly familiar since he couldn’t discern why, and gave the man a kind smile, “I’ll do what I can. I’d like to see her once my horse has water and rest, if that’d be alright for you.” Matthew nodded, his face lit up and immediately encouraged him to follow, “Yes, sure. Follow me!” 

Once Little Mistress was settled and had water and some food with the rest of the cradle, Merlin let Matthew guide him to where this Nerys lived, they arrived at her house minutes after, and Matthew stepped in to knock on the door. After several seconds of silence, he knocked again, this time louder and more insistent, and it was then the door opened, showing a young boy, or rather, merely a child around the age of thirteen, “What?”

Matthew replies while Merlin stands there, eyes wide, “Hello, William, sorry to bother you. But I’ve met a physician, who’d like to see how Nerys is doing.” 

Of course, of course it’d be Will, he should’ve suspected it when through Comet’s eyes –the merlin he had instructed to watch over Ealdor– saw that apparently someone had gotten ill. His younger self must be eleven years old, which meant Will was thirteen, he just remembers now…

Will’s mum died when he was thirteen, a few years after his father died. 

He quickly schooled his expression when Will’s eyes settled on him next, the scowl in his face deepened as he stared up and down at him a few times, eyes narrowed, “Is he really? A physician?” Doing his best to act normal, Merlin decided to introduce himself, giving the younger –God, Will was younger than him. It feels weird. – a polite smile, “I know that I don’t look a bit, but I assure you I’m a trained physician. My name is Avery” 

Begrudgingly, Will let them inside the house, and he guided them towards the bed Nerys was resting in, she looked feverish and pale, her hollow cheeks signaling just how advanced her illness was. Merlin really hoped he’d help her, for the sake of his former childhood friend, Will might be stubborn and a troublemaker, but he had been the first, beside his mother, dear person he had ever had in his life, his first friend ever, and he had too many good memories of him. On top of that, he most literally took the secret of his magic to the grave in his first life, Merlin couldn’t help his mother then, but he may be able to now. 

He took a seat beside the makeshift bed and gently placed a hand on the woman’s forehead, brushing away her blonde hair. He quickly averted his hand when in contact with the burning skin, “Her fever is really bad…” He murmured more to himself than to anyone else, but he didn’t notice William was standing beside him, watching him start working with attentive and wary eyes. The boy didn’t say anything as Merlin took off his medicine bag and rummaged through the things he had, grabbing a small mirror which he carefully put below Nerys’ nose to see how she was breathing. Her breath barely tainted the mirror and that made him frown, she was quite weak already. 

He grabbed her wrist to feel her pulse, but as he did so, he directed some of his magic into her through his fingertips without anyone noticing, Merlin could feel his magic trying to find the source of the problem, but while it did so, he attended to her fever, “For how long as she been like this? When has she started showing symptoms?” He asked Will.

The boy looked apprehensive, but he replied nonetheless, “ ‘Dunno, three moons ago, I suppose. She didn’t say anything but she started to cough a lot and then stopped going outside at all. But it got this bad just recently” She must’ve been in too much pain to walk and she didn’t want the rest in Ealdor to see, mhm… — He thought, bringing a hand to his chin. His magic nudged him and he felt that it had found something on her leg apparently. So he feigned to start looking for any wounds before moving to her right leg and lift her clothes just slightly to reveal the terribly infected wound of a snake bite. It looked like it had been partially treated, but the wound didn’t heal accordingly and now it was infected. 

Will paled beside him, “I didn’t know she was hurt!” Seeing him like that, Merlin did his best to shush him, placing a hand on the boy’s arm, “Hey, it’s okay. It’s not your fault, your mum probably hid it so you wouldn’t worry, but the wound has gotten infected now. It needs immediate treatment.” 

The boy looked a little uncomfortable with the contact but was too upset to even think about it, he just sniffed his nose and tried to make himself look strong, just like Merlin very well remembers him doing when they were children. “Will she be fine?” 

Not wanting to lift the boy’s spirits too much in case it didn’t work, he gave him a small smile, “I’ll do my best, I may be able to do something to help her, but keep in mind that the wound is too infected, okay?” Will nodded, fighting stubbornly against the tears, and Merlin’s look softened immediately. Oh, children certainly were his soft spot. “Could you fetch me some fresh water, William? I might need it”

He nodded and went out with Matthew to get the water. Once he was completely alone, Merlin put the medicine bag away and placed a hand on Nerys’ forehead once more, the other on her chest atop her heart, feeling the swallow and slow breathing and heartbeats under his skin. Closing his eyes to concentrate in his magic, he chanted one of the many healing spells he had learnt in a low voice, “ Gestepe hole. Þurhhæle …” as he opened his eyes once he was done, the gold from his eyes was dimming slowly, his magic was already starting to heal any damage made to her body on the inside and Merlin could feel it, however, healing the wound on her leg further would raise questions and suspicion, so he gathered what he needed to treat it and let it heal like any other normal weapon would. Nerys looked better now, she was still unconscious, but her fever had subsided and she was breathing way easily and less strained, now resting peacefully.

Just when he sighed in relief, he heard a gasp from behind and turned so fast Merlin felt his neck strain from the movement, feeling like a child caught red-handed doing something he shouldn’t have been doing in the first place. And his eyes widened even more when he saw who was standing behind him —Just for how long, he does not know. –, he winces and straightens in his seat. This was so weird. 

An exact yet younger version of his body, the body he had gone all his former life living with during over a millennia, is now facing him. Merlin felt like he was staring at himself in a mirror, and te thought was extremely odd, because this wasn’t his body, no, at least not anymore. What should he do now, huh? He knew this would happen eventually, just not right now . What is he supposed to do? — His younger self- No, the Merlin from this timeline, looked completely surprised and even confused, his own eyes were wide, and he gaped. They stood there in silence for several seconds before ‘young Merlin’ spoke, “Who…Who are you? Where’s Will?”

Just then Merlin— Or should he start calling himself Avery in his head to avoid confusion? – Avery managed to break out of his stupor and speak, “I am…I’m a physician that just happened to be passing through, Matthew asked me to take a look to someone sick and I’m taking care of Nerys’ illness— As for William, I asked him to fetch some fresh water, he’d be back by now.”

Merlin still clearly seemed confused, but his eyes went from him to the woman resting on the bed and then back on the older —Fucking hell it was so weird to see his younger self. They truly were two separated people now…– and after some hesitance he murmured, “Did you…You helped her? Will she be okay?”

He felt his gaze soften at the child’s expression, because he, Merlin was so young, he barely remembers what it was like to be this young, his memories were a mess, so blurry and impossible to keep a track of, but he remembers the solitude he felt, the loneliness, because he was the only person in Ealdor who’d do the things he had been able to since he was a baby, from the moment he was born. Now, there were two persons facing each other who knew what was like to be an outcast, Avery knows perfectly that such feeling might never go away, and that it’ll always follow him wherever he went, not matter how far. And that, was unfortunately the fate, the future, this Merlin had ahead of him. At least Avery was here to lessen his burden, to let all the weight of destiny and the future of the land Arthur is meant to build on his shoulders rather than on Merlin’s. 

.

And it was better that way.

“I think she’ll fine from now on.” Avery replied honestly.

Merlin averted his eyes, and started fidgeting with his hands, focusing on his feet. It was like he had something else to say but feared to say anything, suddenly he raised his head and they connected gazes again, Merlin opened his mouth to say something, “You were…” but before he could continue his phrase, the door opened and Will bursted inside with a bucket full of water in one hand and Matthew trailing behind. He spared Merlin one confused look, startled of seeing him there, “Merlin, what are you doing here? Didn’t your mother tell you to not come?”

“Well, mum is busy making dinner, so she didn’t notice that I sneaked up and came here. I…I wanted to see how you and your mum were holding up. Didn’t know you hired a physician” Merlin turned to Matthew then, tilting his head. 

Yet Avery was who answered his querie, chimming in, “Oh, don’t worry about that. Money was never in our arrangement, and I’m not here for that, Matthew asked this favor off me in exchange for a place to spend the night.”

Why does Merl- Avery have the feeling that too many things had been changed and that he was now playing a dangerous game with Time? 

He should’ve been more careful.

.

‘Time does have a funny way to put in feeling what has yet to be seen, or what one forgot to foreseen. What happens when you put two identical water drops in the same place, at the same time, when they’re one and the same, yet different in its own mind?

Chapter Text

Merlin has always known that he was different from anyone else, Ealdor was an extremely small village right at the outskirts of Essetír and bordering with Camelot, past the Ridge of Ascetir, and as so, everyone there knew each other very well for years, quite away from the business of the city’s prestige. Even so, he is an outcast in a village full of them, since the noblesse didn’t care for any of the bordering towns and villages that didn’t contribute to the kingdom at a greater scale. In Ealdor, any thing they produced was done by their own hands and for the rest, everyone worked their way around and grew their own meals, so yes, they were extremely poor and completely penniless, Merlin and his mother couldn’t afford a second bed, or another cow, they’d to settle with whatever they had, or bargain to get it.

Since he was a child, their neighbors never liked him, nor his mother as a matter of fact. Hunith had become a mother young, and had to raise her son on her own with no father on sight, and for the other villagers that was outrageous, they couldn’t bring their heads to the fact a woman ‘let herself be impregnated and abandoned to raise a son without aid’, Merlin knows she sacrificed a lot to assure he had a good childhood, as poor as they might be. He knows perfectly she had pictured a normal, uneventful life for him, like any mother would, but she had the misfortune to have had a son that was anything but normal. Merlin wasn’t normal, he wasn’t like any other kids his age– Hell, he hadn’t been a normal baby either, from what his mother had told him, he had been doing these kinds of things before he even learned how to crawl.

Since he remembers, weird things always happened around him, every time something strange was going on he had somehow always been at the eye of the storm, when anything broke, when things disappeared and appeared in their home, when candles and fireplaces mysteriously lit up, things floating — It took him a while to notice that all those things had something to do with him, and even longer to be self-conscious about it. These things happened like…Like magic. It was like magic.

Merlin had been born with magic. And any future his mother had wished for him, any normalcy she had tried to build for their lives, was down the drain just like that. Because when Merlin got older, and more conscious about it, it just got worse, simply due to the fact that he didn’t want to stop in the first place. When he did magic, it was out of instinct, like a reflex, an extra limb invisible to the normal eye, it felt right. But every time he did magic in their home, sometimes instinctively, like stopping something from falling, or litting the fireplace in his sleep when he knew his mother was cold and they ran out of flint, other times consciously like conjuring lights and figures in the fire, making them dance to entertain himself, or maybe make his mother laugh, he’d turn to see Hunith’s face and his magic would conceal itself, ashamed, and his face would fall— Because the fear, horror and concern twisting his mother’s normally gentle features, the light burning out of her eyes, afraid not of him but for him… Merlin felt like he had done something wrong, like there was something wrong with him.

But he couldn’t stop. Magic always bursted out of him and became as easy as breathing. It felt like it was a part of him. So even if he tried to conceal it, to hide this part of himself, he always ended up failing, or feeling like something was crawling under his skin, putting him to the edge, until he broke. And when he broke, accidents happened, when he couldn’t contain his emotions any longer, at any moment of vulnerability, his magic would burst to live and come in ways out of his body as it lived under his skin. Things would float, be eaten by flames, explode like windows or anything made of glass –there was a reason they didn’t have anything made of that, at least not anymore– and he’d feel so sick, so ashamed after it.

‘You’ve to keep it to yourself. No one can know, Merlin.’ — His mother would always say and remind him of that unspoken rule he had to keep up. Using his magic always gained him an earful from her, and while he couldn’t quite understand it, there was something akin to fear in Hunith’s blue eyes, and her face already had agelines traced with worry. Seeing her like that, eyes weary and dark, Merlin felt like he was the source of all that, that he was the cause for his mother’s afflictions. It wasn’t easy to live with the idea that you were in any way harming someone that dear to you, because for the longest time, his mother has always been his only family. Merlin knows she loves him dearly, and that if sometimes she was harsh with him and the topic of his magic, she did it out of concern for him. Hunith worried for him, she lived day by day with the worry of what would happen if the other villagers noticed what was going on with him, and word got to King Cenred…She worried he’d end up hurt, or that someone would come to Ealdor and take him away. She was trying to protect him.

That didn’t make it stung any less, though. So when he was ten and quite overwhelmed after trying to hide his magic for so long, he had an outburst in front of someone else aside his mother for the first time in his early ten years; Will and him had been friends of roughly over three years now, and how could they not when they were the only two fatherless kids in Ealdor, with a mother who had to raise them on her own? Will had lost his father a while ago when he died fighting for the King, and his mother was drowning in grief. Nerys and Hunith became good friends, and as such, it was inevitable that both Will and he would meet, they became inseparable soon enough. Will was energetic, stubborn like a mule and eager to talk back to any of the adults, a troublemaker— An outcast, just like Merlin was, two outcasts alone in their small world. 

Merlin had been trying to conceal his magic to not avail, and since he was having hard time doing so, he tried to avoid running into one and hid in the woods surrounding home, trying to keep his powers on check, just then Will appeared, and confronted him after the days he had spent avoiding his only friend, leaving a very confused and upset Will, who couldn’t understand why his best friend was suddenly avoiding him at all costs. Merlin got nervous, scared that Will would stop being his friend, and accidentally let go of a wave of his magic that lashed out and shoved Will to the floor. Merlin immediately panicked, worried he had hurt his friend, but Will simply looked confused and startled, although unafraid, “Wh- What was that?!” he had shrieked.

Not knowing what to do, Merlin started to sputter a mouthful of nervous apologies and immediately kneeled down to see if he was okay, when Will stared at him with wide eyes, it was just then he noticed that his eyes had been glowing gold and Merlin was completely oblivious to that fact. “I- I have magic.” he blurted out without first registering the words until they already left his mouth, “I’ve– I tried to hid it because mum says it- it’s dangerous for anyone else to see, but it wasn’t listening to me, and I- I just didn’t know how to so I started avoiding you to try and calm myself but I failed and– Please don’t hate me.” pleaded with tears already forming in his eyes, worried he had fucked up and now Will would hate him or be scared of him.

They stayed in silence, staring at each other without a word. Will’s eyes were glued to his friend’s face, and he blinked a few times as if he was trying to break himself from the stupor and then he narrowed his eyes, confused, “‘Hate you’? No, man, that was– So cool!” His eyes shone with eagerness and excitement, Will laughed then, bringing a hand to his forehead, “I thought you hated me, this is what you had been hiding all along? So, your magic shoved me to the floor?” he inquired.

Merlin, dazzled by the fact the other was oddly calm when facing magic at work for the first time, immediately felt the urge to apologize, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–” However, Will interrupted him, “No, it was hilarious! Don’t you see? Merlin, we’d prank so many people with this! What else can you do?” 

After that time, Merlin felt like he’d finally breathe. Now that Will knew about his magic, he didn’t need to hide it when it was just the two of them, and while he knows Hunith would be furious if she were to find out, it felt so good to have someone he’d share this with, not having to worry about scaring or fucking up their lives, because Will swore on his life, that he’d never ever tell anyone about his magic, and that was enough for him. And the fact Will always seemed amazed with wonder by everything Merlin did was even better! 

He still felt like an outsider, but not so much now. 

Lately, Hunith had been more insistent in not going to visit Will, since apparently his friend’s mother had gotten sick and she worried it’d be contagious and he’d somehow catch it. Hunith has never liked that he spent too much time with Will, simply because she worried Merlin was too young to understand how critical it was that he kept the secret regarding his magic effectively hidden. It turns out her doubts had not been uncalled for, since Merlin actually did tell Will about his magic. Details, he guesses. And while Merlin tried to follow her words, he still saw Will when he’d, and today, he felt like he just had to go to his friend’s house. There was…Something in the air, his magic had been restless, it fought against him and urged him to go. He had been having weird dreams, of big and loud metal thingies, of a beautiful and immense lake that called out to him, about a gorgeous dark brunette woman with kind brown eyes and a golden sword wielded by someone he just couldn’t see or recognise, but their hair shone golden in the sunlight. Most of the time, he forgot about it when he woke up, but the strange feeling remained. Like he had seen those things but he couldn’t quite remember where, and he was very sure that he didn’t. A Deja Vu, like he heard some call it, and it felt weird.

His magic had been acting weird since he woke up, it tickled under his skin and urged him to go. Merlin spent the entirety of the day dizzy and his mind fogged, and not matter what he did, he was too distracted to do anything about it. He even accidentally when cracking the eggs for breakfast threw away its insides and put the shells inside the mix instead, making him throw the whole thing once it became unsalvageable. His mother asked what was going on with him today, but Merlin didn’t know how to answer her question.

Something is coming— His mind whispered, and his magic buzzed inside of him, excited. Sometimes it felt so alive that it scared him. 

Tired of all of this, the moment Hunith had been distracted, busy with preparing dinner, Merlin sneaked out of the house carefully and quickly made his way to Will’s home, he knocked the door, but when he did, it opened with a creak and he noticed it had been left opened and that fact made him worry. He knows Nerys was sick, and that Will had been taking care of her the best he’d, some whispered that she was too far gone, what if they were right and Will had lost his mother? It wasn’t the same, obviously, but Merlin remembers when they lost one of the chickens when he was little and he cried so much because he had grown attached to it, it made him wonder what’d he feel if his mum or Will were suddenly gone too, and the thought was enough to make him cry even harder –Yes, he is a crybaby. Deal with it. He simply couldn’t help it, he cried when he accidentally drowned his mother’s favorite flower as he tried to water it, he felt so guilty about it too. – and if Will was going through that he wanted to be there for his friend, and give him a hug. Because that was what his mother taught him it was the best way to make someone sad or upset feel better, right? 

That’s why he walked inside and looked for Will or Nerys, he had already pulled back the curtains that led to the ‘bedroom’ when he heard an unknown male voice. There was a man sitting beside the only bed where Merlin recognised Nerys resting on, he had one of his hands placed onto her forehead and the other atop her heart on the chest, and he murmured something under his breath; intelligible words but that made his magic sparkle inside of him in eagerness. But nothing of that took his breath away more than what he saw next, the sight of the man with mid-long black hair opening his eyes, golden light dimming down and leaving room for its natural color. 

He– This person…was using magic. The color of magic tinting his eyes, that couldn’t be mistaken, right?

Without even noticing, he gasped and the stranger seemed to almost jump out of his skin, and turn sharply towards him eye-wided, shoulders tense. And when their eyes locked, Merlin felt like something like electricity sparkled inside and around him, he felt his magic reach out without him ever registering it, and he barely managed to leash it before it did something he might regret in front of someone he didn’t know if he’d trust. What…What is this feeling? Like something had been put in place, like a missing puzzle piece had been returned to where it should’ve been. This feeling of wholeness…What is this?

Was...Was this person like him too? Had he been born able to do the same things Merlin was since birth? Was there truly someone who knew how he felt? To have all of... This and do not know what to do with it? Hide it because there was no place for those like them in this world? 

His eyes wandered to the still- unconscious Nerys, and fear made his stomach turn, what was he doing exactly? She looked to be peacefully sleeping, her chest rose and fell as she breathed. Was he helping her? Did he mean well or was there ulterior motives? Because if this man was just like him, and he was evil, would that mean Merlin was evil too? That he was meant to do ill deeds? The thought was enough to make his heart hurt, he dreaded to know the answer to that question.

It appears that this man, whose name remains unknown to him, was here because Matthew asked him to check on Will's mum, probably to see if there was anything he'd do to help her, and he had accepted since he was apparently a trained physician. The word wasn't foreign to him, he wasn't dumb, and his mother told him that a physician was someone who helped others get better, people who studied for years to become one, the only family member he knows of was apparently one; His mother's older brother. But he saw this man use magic- Merlin was so confused now. 

"Did you...You helped her? Will she be okay?" The inquiry is out of his mouth before he’d even register it, and he felt his cheeks burn at the look the older gave him, the stranger’s eyes were so soft as he looked at him, like he knew more than Merlin did, and he pitied him for it– No, if what he’d see was pity, it was certainly not directed to him, right? His mind was working one mile per second but none of those thoughts stayed longer than a few seconds, he was broken out of it by the other’s voice, “I think she'll be fine from now on.” The honesty in his words was enough to make him relax, at least a little. Merlin wanted to say something else, ask about what he saw; What did those words mean? How did he use his magic for that? Could Merlin do the same? Could he learn how to? — But he couldn’t choose between all those different options so his mouth parted and closed multiple times.

“You were…” He had started, he wanted to say; “You were using magic.” — But before he’d do so, he was interrupted by Matthew and Will coming back, his friend carrying a bucket full with water in one hand, and by the sight, Merlin momentarily forgot about minutes prior. 

However, all those questions still lingered on top of his head, he wanted to ask so many things. This was the first time he was in front of someone who’d perhaps answer all the doubts and inquiries Merlin has formed inside his head since practically forever. Why am I like this? – He wanted to ask, but he couldn’t bring himself to, partly because they weren’t alone and because Merlin wasn’t sure if it was really a good idea. What if whatever the answers might be weren’t what he wanted to hear? What if living with that knowledge was somehow worse than living in ignorance? 

The physician, Avery –Because that was his name from what he caught– thanked Will for the water and kept on with whatever it was that he was doing, he rummaged through his bag and continued treating Nerys and the wound that she apparently had sustained in her leg. He addressed Will then, “Your mother should be fine from now on, though I’d advise her to not put any kind of weight on that leg at least until the wound closes. However, I doubt she’ll be strong enough to walk soon anyway.” He smiled then, “She’s out of danger now.” The man finished bandaging her injury and moved away from the bed, carrying his bag along.

Merlin turned to see his friend, sighing in relief and smiling, he put a hand on the other’s shoulder, “Did you hear? She will get better!” he beamed enthusiastically, Will turned to face him, and although there was a conflicting expression in his face, like he was still too taken aback to process that his mother was going to be just fine when she had been with one foot in the grave moments prior, but he smiled back nonetheless. Matthew looked relieved too, because he looked less tense, “It’s such a relief, really. Now, children, is getting late– Merlin, you should probably go back to Hunith before she comes here looking for you”

He stared up at the adult and held back the urge to shake his head, why was he so hesitant of returning home? His eyes went back to the foreign man, who looked completely oblivious to his inner turmoil or the way Merlin’s gaze kept getting glued to him, Avery for the first time seemed to notice that he was staring and turned to face him, he gave Merlin a tiny small that didn’t reach his eyes, and the same unknown feeling he’d pinpoint in the other’s blue eyes was still there. Something akin to…Melancholy? He wasn’t sure. Nonetheless, he didn’t have another choice but to begrudgingly nod, he said goodbye to Will and the other two adults before walking out of the house. His magic was still restless but whatever had made it like these had lessened, so there was not as much hesitance as he walked back home.

His mother had, effectively, noticed that he was missing and she scolded him lightly. But they quickly ate dinner after that, and as Merlin settled on the floor close to the fireplace, he watched the flames dance while he waited for the sleepiness to sink in, mind still coming back to the events from earlier. Will he have the opportunity to ask the questions he had? Matthew had said Avery would be passing the night here in Ealdor, so perhaps if he woke up early Merlin would get a chance to catch the other before he left to wherever he might go next, if he was a traveling physician like he said he was. A nomad, was it the word, right?

When he finally fell asleep, Merlin dreamt of the same images, but this time there was a dragon in them, a cave made of crystal, a black-haired woman with emerald green eyes and the red of a blurry emblem. The next morning he woke up without a single memory of what he had dreamt about, but with the feeling that there was something, somewhere he was supposed to be at. 

What a weird day.

.

.

.

Merlin– Avery slept on the floor that night, the same way he had done countless times before, it didn’t bother him, but he’d feel it’d be a sleepless night just like many others. The nightmares that sometimes plagued his mind made him dread the idea of falling asleep and the anticipation did nothing but make his anxiety worsen, scaring the sleepiness away, so he laid awake staring up at the sky he’d see through the makeshift roof, which barely held out, after all, this place was meant for the cradle not for someone to sleep in, but it was more than enough and Mer- Avery wasn’t one to complain about sleeping in such conditions, he had gone through far worse so yes, he’d survive. 

Eventually, he felt asleep, and just like he feared, he woke up the next morning with a start because of a nightmare; Normally, his most recurring one was about the Battle of Camlann and the moment he failed his destiny badly, Arthur dying in his arms and he having to come back to Camelot eventually to face Gwen, face the woman that just lost her husband because Merlin had been weak. It was all his fault. He should’ve been more careful, if Morgana hadn’t succeeded in blocking his magic temporarily, Merlin might have been at Arthur’s side during the battle and he’d have saved his king.

As he regained control of his breathing, he shook those thoughts away. It was useless to think about it, he was back and he had a chance to avoid all that from happening. The future of Albion and magic depended on it, of course. It was too early, but Avery was unable to fall back to sleep, so he got ready for the day, he gave water and food to Missy and went out to pick up firewood and replenish some of the herbs he had used yesterday for the treatment of Nerys’ wound. 

While he did, he felt his magic nudge at him just as he became aware of the footsteps getting closer to where he was, the odd familiarity he felt from here deprived him from tensing up and readying himself to use his magic in the case he had to. Merl- Avery almost cursed out loud as he carried the firewood in his arms, because he knew who it was, so turning to see the black-haired, blue-eyed kid standing there wasn’t as surprising as it might have been, and Avery have had the feeling that Merlin would probably seek him out first after their odd meeting the day before. So he lowered the firewood in his arms to the floor and as he wiped the dirt from his hands he addressed the other, “Well, good morning. You are Merlin, right? William’s friend.” 

God, how weird it was to use his name in third person, even so, he was talking to himself. After fifteen hundred years one would’ve thought he’d be already used to weird stuff happening to him or around him, because he had seen everything there was to see, nothing should be able to surprise him now. Time travel was, unsurprisingly, a great occurrence, and an odd one at that. His younger self looked quite taken aback, he averted his eyes to the ground in front of him with an apprehensive look on his face, like he was debating whether coming here might’ve been a good idea, and that Avery does not know the answer either. But the kid nodded nonetheless, and Avery continued, “Isn’t it perhaps too early to be in the woods? Have you come here for something special?”

“I…” The other’s cheeks blushed red, and he bit his lip, just like he normally did when he was about to lie. They didn't have to be, technically, the same person for Avery to know how bad of a liar Merlin used to be when he was younger. In his adult days, he had mastered the noble art of speaking lots but never saying anything really, his way of giving information about himself but nothing in the insight, it had worked so well during his time in Camelot, but it was an skill this kid had yet to learn, one he had yet to realize that he needed in order to survive. “I came looking for…Uhm–” And he was right.

Holding back a laugh, he didn’t manage to stop a smile from forming, “For me. You came looking for me, right?” Avery finished for him, and the startled look the other gave him was even funnier. Although it was so weird to look at someone do the same expressions that he did or used to do, and know that they were the same, that if Avery wasn’t here, his future would become this Merlin’s eventually. And that the failures haunting him nowadays would be his to carry too, and looking at him now, he wonders how anyone could place such burden and pressure on someone so young. By the look in the other’s place, and from what his magic told him, Avery assumed that probably not much had changed from how his own childhood had been compared with this Merlin’s one, his magic was still kind of the same, although weaker than Avery’s was now, for obvious reasons. “It is about what you saw yesterday, right? There’s some things you’d like to ask, perhaps?”

Merlin’s eyes widened and then something akin to a pout formed in his face, scowling so adorably that Avery almost laughed. Thinking about himself as ‘cute’ or ‘adorable’ was so weird but he couldn’t help it. “How did you–?”

“It is what I’d have done if I was in your shoes.” In the most literal way possible, Avery thinks amusedly.  He chuckles, more at his own thought than at the other’s expression, “Go ahead, I’ll do my best to answer whatever doubts you may have.” Giving him time to recollect his thoughts, Avery took a seat in the forest ground, cross-legged, and started preparing everything to make a small fire to warm them up. It was too cold at this time of the day, and it’d only get colder as winter approximated. Merlin watched him do so with curiosity and slowly approached him with wary steps, “You…Back at Will’s house, I- I heard you mutter something what- What was that about?”

Without paying too much attention to the other, he grabbed some dry leaves and placed them together with the twigs and some of the firewood he had collected, rubbing his hands together then, “A healing enchantment, one of the most common. It heals and cures almost any damage done to someone’s body, along with minor illness. Although it depends on the caster’s abilities and own level” Under the kid’s shocked expression, Avery raised a hand and pointed it towards the mountain to lit a fire, he did it without muttering a single spell, his eyes burned gold and the flames sparkled to life immediately after with a wave of his hand.

When he turned his eyes to the other, Merlin looked a little pale, eyes glued in the fire that settled before the adult. And Avery couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the other’s expression, “Do you fear it?”

The kid broke out of his astonishment, eyes settling on Avery’s face from where they had been glued onto the way the flames danced, “You…You know magic.” It was uttered more as a matter of fact than a question, but Avery nodded with a tiny smile, sharing the other’s doubts because ‘Been there, done that’. He had felt the same when he was young, finding someone in a similar situation as him…It must be priceless for him. “I was born with it. Although I’ve had time to learn all I could and master it.” 

Merlin’s eyes looked glassy, and he seemed to struggle to swallow saliva, perhaps because of the knot that had settled in his throat. “So…It’s truly possible? To be born with magic?” I am not a monster, then? — Left unsaid, but Avery heard it all the same, because these had been his own thoughts and the memories were resurfacing now. It was hard to look at his younger self and remember how lonely he had felt then, he had felt like a monster, like something was wrong with him, that he’d never be like anybody else, like any other kid his age, and that no one but him would ever understand what that felt like. – Morgana had, his mind supplies grimly. She had been so scared, so alone…Thinking that she was a monster without anyone to assure her otherwise, trapped under Uther Pendragon’s large shadow of hatred and fear under which he had drowned both of his children from a young age. And Merlin let her, he let her drown into that hatred until the Morgana he had known was gone, until she had been so broken that when Morgause appeared and pieced her together, she had been too vulnerable and easy to corrupt and manipulate, turned agaisnt the family and friends she once loved dearly. – 

However, he forced himself to reply wholeheartedly to the lingering question, “It is extremely rare, but yes, it’s possible. So, I gather that you also have magic, am I right?” Merlin paled just like every time he himself remembers doing when anyone suggested that he had magic in the slightest, fearing losing his neck if he did not thread carefully. So he immediately reassured him, “It’s all right, Merlin. You don’t need to hide it, not from me at least. I know how you feel…It’s lonely, isn’t it? To feel like an outcast, that no one will ever really begin to understand what it is like to live in this time and place being who you are.” 

To the other’s account, eleven-year-old Merlin was stronger than people gave him credit for, because even with the tears threatening to fall, he kept his head high and nodded, slowly, doubtful, a scowl in his face as he tried to process the other’s words. “My mother has always told me that I must hide it because it’ll be dangerous if anyone ever finds out. I know that she means well, and that she is afraid my m- magic will get me in trouble— I know that, but…It’s so hard to keep it leashed. How did you do it? How did you manage to keep it under control?”

Avery felt his gaze soften at the other’s expression, ah yes, how well he does remember this time and what he felt. “First of all,” he began, gesturing the other to get closer and take a seat near the fire when his flushed cheeks and nose turned a really visible trait that meant the cold was starting to get to him. The kid did so although a little more confidently than before, and took a seat across from him as Avery tended to the fire, “You need to stop trying to conceal it, if you keep that up, you’ll end up hurting yourself. And others. Magic outbursts are more common than you think it is, and dangerous” He waved a twig around to put emphasis in his words, “Our magic is different from the others’ who had to learn and study magic to get remotely close to what me, or you I suppose, could do since birth. It’s pure instinct, reflex, you have to treat it like something that is part of your body. A hand, a tool.”

The other nodded and stayed silent to allow him to continue, “ Magic has many faces and utilities, but it is also a discipline, to gain better control you must train daily. That’s what spells and enchantments were written for, they’re channelers, its purpose it’s to guide your magic. In the time of the Old Religion, the balance of laws everything in this world is bidden to, the High Priestesses and Priests, the most talented in the art, had to train many years before they’d do instinctive magic, and even so, most couldn’t do so without before using spells and enchantments. Although I must tell you, not all magic users are the same, and there is technicisms that I won’t explain to you at the moment, let’s just say that we’re quite different from normal sorcerers, because we were born able to do magic, when even in the case of the High Priestesses, their magic did not manifestate until they were at least sixteen or nineteen years old, sometimes even later. However, since they have already been training, they face less disadvantages when it does manifestate.” 

Merlin’s eyes were narrowed, he seemed to be replaying everything he said before asking, “Can someone whose parents had no magic be born with it? I mean, I never met my father, but my mother does not have magic, I’d know.” 

That was a really good question, and he voiced it with a smile, “That’s an interesting question. And to answer it, normally it doesn’t really have something to do with the parentage. Magic, in the case of sorcerers, chose them and it takes them triple the time to learn it, and most don't have enough to do more than a few low-level spells. Others have their talents passed from generation to generation. However, I suppose that in your case, perhaps your father was the one who had proficiency for magic and he passed it to you— I gather that your mother does not speak of him?” He averted his eyes at the question, shaking his head in agreement to his question, sighing and resting his cheeks on his hands, defeated. “I’ve tried asking her, but she never tells me anything, I don’t even know if he is alive— Though I suppose he mustn’t be, right? Who’d abandon his family and never come back?”

At the pettiness in the other’s tone, Avery grimaced, he recalls how angry he had been at Balinor when he had been young, the thought that the other could’ve abandoned his mother and left her alone to raise a kid without any kind of help in a village that shunned her for that and called her a whore behind her back. Nowadays, he knows better of course, but he had forgotten about it after all this time, “Merlin, if your father had magic in any way, staying with your mother might’ve put you all in mortal peril. Before you were born, the Great Purge had already been going for three whole years, many were persecuted and executed because of their talents or association with sorcery, whether they’d help it or not. Even children like you, and younger than you. Essetír doesn’t have magic outlawed, which means it isn’t persecuted under death punishment, but that doesn’t mean it is any less dangerous for those like us. Perhaps he didn’t even know that he had a son.” He presumed, doing his best to not say more than he should, it was too soon to reveal to Merlin the conditions and whereabouts of his father. 

Merlin looked ashamed at the light scolding, “O-okay, sorry. When you put it like that…So, that means you…you saw what it was like before the Great Purge then? Because you look so young.” 

Oh, if only you knew. — Avery laughed internally, but outwards a smile was the only visible thing in his face, “I’ll be turning twenty-eight summers soon, so yes, I saw what it was like before the Great Purge.” Well, not exactly but Merlin doesn’t need to know that, obviously. “Although I had been quite isolated from the outside world for the earlier years of my life, it had been magnificent.” His smile widened, and Merlin looked eager to hear about it, so he recalled what Gaius and Iseldir had told him when he asked the same question he saw clear in the younger’s eyes. “There were so many dragons, free to roam the world. They were respected and even worshiped. They weren’t the only ones, though, there were many other magical creatures you’d only dream of, like unicorns; I’ve seen a few during my life, and they’re one of the most beautiful creatures you’d ever lay your eyes on. People like the druids, who lived in great cities and now live in the woods without a place to call home, would join in to hold special festivals together under the moonlight when one sees so many others making the most amazing things with their magic. It was so full of color, life— Freedom. People laughed, danced, there was no fear, only happiness ”

Merlin’s smile reciprocated his, although his eyes looked sad at the way Avery spoke in the past tense, “That sounds…Beautiful. I’d have loved to see it…Why did it change? When did it gone wrong?”

Avery sighs, knowing that this was a serious and complicated matter, one that had its explanation, but revealing it to Merlin would mean to reveal that he perhaps knows more than he should, about Uther Pendragon, his wife Ygraine du Bois and Nimueh…That was too much, so he had to simplified it, “You must know, Merlin, that people do terrible things under the influence of fear, fear of the unknown, they’re afraid of the things that are out of their control, and the Old Religion is settled over the Balance, rules that cannot be broken, regarding the magic that forms the very fabric of our world. Power in all shapes and forms can corrupt a man’s hearts, magic isn’t the exception unfortunately, and there were some who used it for the wrong end…And when you mix it with the almost nonexistent knowledge people have of how magic works, it leads to things like the Great Purge.” As he saw the kid’s face fall, and the light in his eyes waver, he immediately adds a reassurement, “It won’t always be like this, as long as there is people like us, who use magic for good and for greater, selfless purposes, there’s a future for us in this land.”

That seemed to help because the smile from before returned, “I hope it is soon, I’d love to see and experience everything you’ve told me. Thank you, by the way…I- I feel way better now, less nervous I guess.” 

He chuckles softly, “You’ve nothing to thank me for, we all need someone who’d tell us these things when we most need it. Now," with a wave of his hand, the fire dies out, and he glances down at the other, "It's better if you go back, I'm sure your mother is concerned about your whereabouts." 

Merlin beams at him and nods, getting up, "Yes, you're right. Thank you!" 

Watching his silhouette retreat, Avery chuckles to himself, shaking his head. Yes, giving advice to himself was even weirder than having a conversation with him. But he just told Merlin what he would have loved if someone had when he was that age, even Gaius kept things from him although he does not resent him nowadays, and he understands it had been while having his best interests at heart. 

However, Avery wishes there were things he had known earlier. But there was no use in thinking about it now.

When he came back to the village, he made eye-contact with the woman that formerly in another life, in a different world, had been his mother, the one who raised him and made him who he was in his earlier years. Hunith was speaking with Merlin, and when she noticed him, she sent him a wary glare, no doubt have suspected that something was different in him, that he wasn't like any other in this small village. 

With the excuse of taking care of Nerys and replenishing strenght, Merlin Avery, if he'd call himself that, stayed in Ealdor for a few more days.

Being confronted by his former mother for spending too much time with her son, who would've been him in another time, wasn't exactly in his bingo card, if he was being honest to himself.

(Kanen making an early appearance neither, while he was at it. )

.

'And it has been said twin stars were impossible to come by, but in that infinite sky full with them, when you're unable to count them all, how would you ever be so sure?'

Chapter Text

Merl- Avery –Gods, will he ever get used to calling himself that?– had forgotten how boring things truly were in Ealdor, the village was extremely small and as such, not many knew of their existence, and since they had nothing to offer to the main territory, they didn’t have to pay taxes like the rest living in the citadel had to. That also meant nothing interesting ever happened, and while Avery would’ve appreciated it normally, having nothing to do, nothing to keep his head busy in, it reminded him of the fifteen hundred years he spent alone with his thoughts alone and the comparison wasn’t welcome in the slightest. At least, now that they had already met and spoken, Merlin’s interest and curiosity had been picked, so it was to be expected that the boy would seek him out the moment he saw Avery around the village and he’d follow him around. Sometimes, when they were alone or no one was paying them attention, he’d ask many other questions Avery did his best to answer with utmost honesty, knowing that this was normal behavior in a kid this age, and if there was a thing he himself had hated when he was young was the adults in his life keeping things from him, or not answering the questions he had almost never. –And don’t let him get started with Kilgharrah and his damned cryptic replies filled with riddles and ambiguous meanings–

If he was being truly honest, he preferred to guide Merlin himself if he was allowed, of course purposely avoiding certain topics the other was too young to know about, or things that not even Avery was supposed to know the details of. It was too much information for an eleven-year-old to handle, and that also included everything about being a Dragonlord –He was certain he was one, because he’d felt it. There was no way of mistaking it, not when he had felt the same connection when he first met Kilgharrah, and when by only seeing Balinor the first time, he just knew that they were kin in magic and blood. – and about the boy’s father, simply because he didn’t know if Merlin was ready to hear about it, after all, if he counted himself, right now in Albion there were only three dragonlords left, and two were father and son, which meant the latter had yet to inherit the other’s powers. At the same time, Avery also had the feeling that Hunith wouldn’t appreciate him telling her son about his father.

At least Merlin was happy, and that was all that mattered to him. Even if he’d approach with countless of questions and doubts one after the other, about magic, more information about what the world had been like before the Great Purge, magical creatures he had encountered in his life, and this also entailed pestering the older in getting any kind of spells he’d try out. Which led to the same lessons Avery had been given to the druid children back at the camp, although more suited for someone like Merlin, all were low-level spells to avoid the kid from hurting himself or others, since it was obvious that with all that magic they both tended to overdo most spells and get an intense, stronger, result than the one intended in the end. During those lessons, Avery noticed that while obviously having the innate talent for magic, one that came with the fact that Merlin was a half-blood, son of a non-magical human and a magical race –Dragonlords–; A Warlock, there was something quite different about it from what he remembered. For one, the elements didn’t answer to the boy the same way Avery remembers them doing when he had been that age, and he was quite certain there was also no affinity to the other types of magic out there.

When he tried to feel the other’s magic, the very fabric of the world no longer answered his call, because it was bidden to him. It had become a part of Avery, but he’d felt a glimpse of it in Merlin, and the wave of magic that replied to him felt confused, restrained and young. While Avery’s magic was ancient, becoming one with him and with the elements of this world, together with the magic bidding Life and Death itself, wild and unrestrained, matured, this Merlin’s felt like… Something new. It was young, unmatured, energetic, like fire. If the element that suited Avery better was water, he was certain Merlin’s was fire in that case; It was alive, but needed nurturing to prevail, it needed guidance and protection from the other elements, it depended on the wind and the earth. 

They were opposites, but he felt his magic reaching out to the kid’s, and in return, Merlin’s reached out to him. There was something special here, Avery had yet to discern what exactly it was, but special indeed. Something he was sure the Old Religion had not planned in the slightest. 

Unsurprisingly, Merlin got a grasp on the spells he taught him in a blink, his control was still sloppy, but he was advancing at a shocking speed now that he had been provided with a space to let his magic be, to let himself be, without having to worry about anything else, his talent could grow efficiently now. At the end of the lessons, Avery could see in the kid’s eyes that something had indeed shifted, something changed in the way he carried himself from the prior days; There was no tension or wariness, there was no fear or shame. He had stopped fearing terribly his gifts, and was starting to learn how to accept his magic as part of himself rather than something he’d keep hidden deep inside of himself, although Avery had been quite insistent in making sure the boy knew that he had to be extremely careful about his magic, and he was kind of sure that the other understood, that was enough for now, he was still young and had many things to learn, he had yet to mature, and Avery knows perfectly well how painful and draining having to grow up at an increasing speed can be, and how damaging it can be for a child. If he’d deprive this Merlin from having to go through the same he did, then so be it.

Nerys’s condition was improving quickly, she had already woke up and was conscious for the first time in weeks, the woman had been quite confused, and shamed of have let her health worsen to this extent, and had apologized many times to her son for the pain she had put him through without even noticing. The excuse of wanting to tend to her still-healing wound worked wonders, and that was how Avery stayed in Ealdor for a few more days.

His prolonged stay and the amount of time he spent with Merlin did nothing but raise questions around, and since Ealdor was full of elderly people who had nothing better to do with their time, they loved to gossip and Avery had quickly become one of their favorite topics to murmur about. He caught some of what they had been saying, some said that he was a runaway, or that he had been banished and that was why he was traveling on his own, others theorized that he was another Hunith’s bastard son —Their main arguments was that he shared some traits and features with her and that Merlin and he were apparently ‘too much alike’– despite the fact that the math wasn’t exactly adding up, from what he remembered in his first life, Hunith had met Balinor when she just turned twenty-years-old, they were together for roughly a year before Uther got word of the latter’s whereabouts and the man had no other option but to flee Ealdor, leaving a three-moons-pregnant Hunith behind. Doing a quick math, she should be around thirty-one years old at the moment, so unless it was possible to have a child at three years old –this body should roughly be around its late twenties– or something of the sort, Avery being Hunith’s older son was highly impossible. That didn’t stop the villagers from gossiping about it though, but others had been creative enough to assume that he perhaps was the boy’s father and Avery had to actively hold back from laughing in the middle of the street upon hearing such a thing. 

It was by all means extremely hilarious and ridiculous, but he should’ve expected that Merlin would overhear it somewhere coming from his neighbors and like any other kid would confront him one day to ask, “Are you…Y’know— My father?” and Avery promptly almost tripped over his own two feet, completely taken aback by the boy’s question. He thought that maybe he was joking, but when he turned to stare at Merlin’s face, there was nervousness, something akin to hope shining in his blue eyes, but no trace of anything that gave away that the eleven-years-old was fooling around. Avery couldn’t help but snort and laugh out loud, “What? Gods– no. I’m sorry, Merlin, but I’m not your father— I think I’m young enough to be your older brother, rather than your dad. But no, we’re not related” he chuckled.

The kid didn’t look very convinced, and his scowl deepened, like he was trying to look for anything in his face that’d give away his ‘lie’, but when he found nothing of the sorts he deflated, shoulders falling, “Well, it was worth a shot, I guess…” he mumbled under his breath, “Although Will seems quite sure of the contrary, I suppose. He keeps going on and on about how we must be related somehow– Wait! You’re a physician, right?” 

Not knowing why the sudden question, given that he was quite sure the other already knew the answer, Avery absently replied with a chuckle, “Avid observation.” from the spot he was kneeling on, picking up some herbs that only grew around Ealdor and were better usable fresh. He couldn’t see it, but he was quite sure Merlin was pouting. “Mum said that I’ve an uncle, and that he is a physician. What if–”

This time, Avery giggles out loud. Did he look like someone Gaius’ age? Gods above, what children these days could imagine in those little heads. “Your theories are most adorable, Merlin. But if that had been the case, don’t you think your mother would’ve recognised me the moment she saw my face, or that I would have? I mean, she’d be my sister, it’s only expected.” 

Merlin reciprocates his laugh then, a wide embarrassed grin in his face, “I suppose you’re right. It is quite dumb, but the others seem to think otherwise.” he shrugs and finally lets go of the subject. Settling on that Ealdor’s inhabitants were big gossipers and that those were nothing but silly assumptions from bored people, people that had nothing better to do with their time. 

Later that day, the moment Avery had been half-expecting, half-dreading, finally arrived. While he was brushing Little Mistress’ mane and making sure that she was in ultimate health, he heard a set of footsteps approach him from behind, so he turned to see who it was, expecting to see William, who liked to glare at him, Matthew who sometimes spoke to him, or even Merlin, but was welcomed by Hunith’s face instead. The woman’s features were twisted by exhaustion and something he’d point as concern, but Avery could note that simply because this had been his mother in another life, another time, and such, he knows her better than she herself can begin to know. Avery gave her a courteous smile, nodding his head in acknowledgement, “Good evening. Can I help you with something?” 

To her account, Hunith did return his smile, but hers was more strained than his for obvious reasons, she shook her head next, “Nothing of the sorts. Just thought I’d introduce myself and thank you for your help, Nerys is a dear friend to me— I’m Hunith, Merlin’s mother, a pleasure to meet you.” 

Still smiling, Avery steps away from the horse to make a polite bow, “Pleasure’s mine, my Lady. My name’s Avery, at your service if there’s anything health-related troubling you.” He did his best to sound honest and true, keeping his face and eyes open for her to superficially see that he wasn’t a threat to Ealdor, to her, or her son. If there was something he never wanted others to think about him was that he was some kind of monster, a threat when he wasn’t— At least not to those that didn’t deserve it, because the real threat was someone like him, who had something important to protect and nothing to lose when his life was eternal and would always be followed by loss, when all those that loved him were long gone. The people who knew him and cared for him passed away a long, long time ago, and while now in this timeline they were all still alive…Merlin couldn’t help but feel like an outsider once again, because that was what he was. 

His attempt at appearing non- intimidating seemed to do the trick because Hunith relaxed slightly and her smile became way less strained, “I gather that you’ve already met my son Merlin, am I right?” Oh, she was really going for it, huh? — Not having any reason to lie, he nods honestly, chuckling, “You are. He has quite the talent of worming his way into people’s lives, from what I can see.” 

“He seems quite fond of you already, my Lord. I apologize if he has been pestering you way too much lately.” 

Grimacing at the formality coming from her out of all people, Avery immediately shakes his head, “Please, my lady. Call me Avery.” he corrects gently, “Not a lord of any kind.” A half-lie from what the druids were concerned. “And well, Merlin is a nice but curious boy, there’s no harm in it so nothing you’ve to apologize for. Besides, I’ve schooled children before, I don’t mind having them around or trailing behind like ducklings” 

Hunith seemed a little troubled and had narrowed her blue eyes, raising an eyebrow, “Have we met before?” 

Avery shakes his head immediately, “No, I don’t think so. I’ve been quite secluded most of my life, so I highly doubt it.” The black-haired woman hums, averting her eyes to the ground as she plays with her hands folded against her dress, she stays like that, in silence, for a few more seconds before she seems to have recollected her thoughts, “There’s a matter I’d like to discuss with you, perhaps over a cup of tea?” Glorified leaf-flavored water from what Avery remembers it tasted like, but he nods nonetheless. Was she going to address the topic of Merlin’s magic? Had she already noticed that Avery knew about it? Or perhaps Merlin told her, he had never been one skilled enough to be able to lie to his own matter, who knew him better than he’d begin to think.

“That sounds lovely. After you” Without further delay, Hunith guides him towards her house, one of the smallest there, and upon arriving, Avery noticed Merlin was nowhere to be seen, so he must be outside somewhere messing around with Will, they had been quite the troublemaker duo together, even so after Will found out about his magic, it’d be no wonder if their pranks had already escalated in complexity now that Avery taught the young warlock some control. 

While Hunith heated the water for the tea, Avery took a seat in the ‘dining table’ as he waited for her to finish. His eyes wandered around the house, taking in everything that had stayed exactly the same way he remembers, and the thought was enough to make him smile melancholically; To think those days had been so long ago, and he was now somehow revisiting them as a totally different person. This was his childhood home, the first he had ever known, and wasn’t at the same time, at least not anymore. —Merlin wasn’t the person he had been…He probably will never be. 

That’s what fifteen hundred years of loss and solitude does to someone, he supposes. 

He is broken out of his thoughts when Hunith approaches the table with the ‘tea’, and pours it into his own cup, which Mer– Avery accepts with a grateful smile. The woman takes a seat across the table from him with her own steaming cup, and taps her fingers against the object her hands are holding as she waits for it to cool down enough to safely drink. Avery, on the other hand, patiently waits for the older to speak first, and after several minutes she finally does, “Have you met someone named ‘Gaius’? He is Camelot’s Court Physician.” 

Trying his best to hide his surprise upon the unexpected question, he answers as thoroughly as he can, “I’ve heard of him, he is quite a skilled physician and has made a renowned name out of himself when medical knowledge is concerned. Though I am afraid I haven't had the pleasure of meeting him, not yet at least.” 

“He is my older brother– Well, half-brother actually. It has been years since we last saw each other.” Hunith continues with her train of thought, almost like Avery didn’t answer at all, although he is sure the other had heard his words and made sure to store them in her brain for later interrogation. Because this was an Interrogation, right? “I’ve been thinking about sending Merlin to Camelot to live with him. I’ve been giving it a thought for a while now…”

“As an apprentice? Anyone should be honored to have such luck, being schooled by such a renowned and talented physician is no small matter. I’m sure he’d do great.” Avery replies honestly, a fond smile tugging up his lips which he hides behind his cup as he takes a sip. However, Hunith didn’t seem to think the same way he did, because her expression was sullen out of a sudden, eyes dark, “There’s an… inconvenience, though.”

Ah, yes. The law. — He nods in agreement at her unspoken words, “Magic is outlawed, yes, I’ve heard.” And seen and almost suffered under that injustice he almost added, but Hunith didn’t need to know that, if she ended up sending Merlin to Camelot like she had done in his first life, it’d be nice. Avery could keep an eye on Arthur, Morgana, Gaius, Gwen and Merlin on a whole without having to be in many different places at the same time. However, hearing that from him, made Hunith jump in her seat, an horrified expression in her face that made Avery wince immediately, he just dropped over her that he was aware of her son being a ‘sorcerer’. “I thought Merlin had told you, my lady. I’m sorry— Yes, I know about Merlin having magic.” he answered the silent inquiry in her eyes.

Hunith recovers fast from her stupor, and a scowl appears on her normally gentle and maternal expression, “Did he…Did he tell you?” 

He shakes his head immediately, “No, not exactly. But he saw me do magic to heal Nerys, and he asked me about it the day after the very moment he could. Rest assured, I’d never do anything to harm him, I spent a long time living with the druid people in the woods, and considered them my own. Many of them have magic too and I’ve done my best to help them in what I’d.” 

“ You–” she breathes, the frown in her face increasing, “You’ve been teaching my son magic, haven’t you? Why?” What do you want with him? — Was the question she didn’t bring herself to utter, but Avery heard it all the same, how could he not? When she was glaring knives at him.

Avery sighs, settling his cup aside, “What I’ve been doing is helping him learn control. He had been concealing his magic and that in the long run would end up doing more harm than good, to him, and to others. Magical outbursts are incredibly dangerous, and your son is more special than most, I don’t know the extent of what his magic would do if he contained himself for too long, it might end up making him sick in the long run.” Or destroy the entirety of the village, crumble every house to the ground like some kind of castle made of cards, or at least that would be what his magic would do if he ever tried to contain it for too long. 

“It’s too dangerous for him! What if– What if King Cenred gets word of it?! He’d send his men here and take him away!” Hunith shrieks, face contorted with worry and fear for her son. Avery feels a pang of guilt but instantly brushes it away, narrowing his eyes, “You can’t expect him to contain a part of himself, he was born with magic. Just like I did. There’s nothing wrong with him, Hunith. You should start thinking of his magic as part of him, rather than something he’d be ashamed of.”

His words fell over Hunith and she slumped back onto her chair like she had been punched, eyes wide, “I–...” She bites her lip, “That- That never was my intention. I just wanted…I was trying to keep him safe.” 

Avery sighs, and whatever intensity that had been in his eyes immediately softens at her deflated stare, “I know.” Because he does, truly. “But, does he? If the world would shun him or harm him because of something he was born with, for something he can’t control, you should create a space in which he’d feel safe to perform his magic in— Subtly, of course. – And he most probably will be less prone to do magic outside where anyone can see. Let him share that part of himself with you, too.”

“It’s…It’s too dangerous for him, and I’m just a peasant, I can’t keep him safe.” Her words were spoken with so much pain that Avery could almost feel it, and his magic crooned in sadness around him, without doubt empathizing with the woman’s hurt.

“It won’t always be like this, Hunith. I gather you aren’t familiar with the druidic prophecies speaking of something called the ‘Golden Age of Albion’, or are you?” The woman, still awestruck, could only shake his head slowly and hesitantly a few times, eyes finally finding his encouraging Avery to continue with what he had been saying, closing his eyes to recite the prophecy. “The prophets speak of an era yet to arrive, foretold since the dawn of time, that after the darkest age this world has ever seen, Albion would rise and bring forward the light that had been taken away from those like me. That one, born from a woman with no magic, would arrive and set the record straight, amend all the wrongs and that with his aid, the Once and Future King, prophesied to be the greatest king to have ever lived, would someday unite all the land of Albion and return magic magic to the land. There’s many that believe the one it speaks of has already been born.” 

Hunith stays in silence for a few more seconds, as she was trying to process every word he just said, and there’s horror twisting her eyes the moment his words dawned upon her. Though Avery assumes she had gotten it wrong. “You’re…You believe that my Merlin is…That he is–” 

He immediately shakes his head, “No, the one the druids speak of has been roaming the land for a while now. From what I’ve heard…He has already been seen. But no, your son has nothing to do with it.” Not this son, at this exact point of time, though. The color seems to return to Hunith’s face, and the tension thrown over her shoulders disappears then, sighing in relief, then she raises an eyebrow, “Who is the ‘Once and Future King’, then?”

Avery smiles, “Only time will tell.” 

Whatever she might’ve wanted to say next was interrupted by the sound of hooves, shouts and screaming from outside were heard. It was obvious something was going on, and they immediately rose from their seats, running to the door to see what was happening.

Avery barely managed to control the frown in his face the moment he catches a glimpse of Kanen of all people appearing with his whole set of goons to bother them. He didn’t think he’d see him so early, and he was secretly hoping to actually never have the misfortune of running into him, but time had a funny way of doing things, and so did fate. Hunith upon seeing Merlin, she immediately runs to her son and hugs him close, the same way others did with their own children, terrified as Kanen’s men scouted the whole village to steal their harvest, Avery, on the other hand, just stood beside Hunith with a bored expression in his face. His magic was unimpressed too. 

“Good evening, Matthew!” Kanen greeted the man in question with that shit-eating grin Merlin remembers him having in his other life too. So one time a brute, always a brute, huh? Should’ve guessed. That will make what Avery was thinking of doing even easier, in that case. “Hope you've prepared the part that you owe me.” 

Matthew, although terrified, does a good job in standing his ground, “We- We’ve nothing for you. Winter is coming and we’ll starve if you take anything.”

“Oh, Matthew” the man, who apparently loves to be tall because he never got off his horse, coos– something unfitting and ridiculous for a man his age. And those standing beside him crackle at the other’s tone, “Sharing is caring, remember? Don’t make me take it by force, you know that won’t end well for you.” He saw some of his men unsheath their swords, laughing from the sidelines, and Matthew stiffened. Knowing this was about to get bad pretty quick, Avery sighs and chimes in, an apathetic expression in his face because really, first Cenred and now Kanen? He has a feeling that the Universe really enjoyed seeing these sort of brutes be put in their places, right where they belong. And, well, who was Merlin to go against its wishes? 

“I think this will end badly for you, actually.” Kanen and his group of thugs stopped right where they were, quite taken aback because of someone having the nerve of addressing him like he didn’t fear him. Oh, how very well Avery knows it bothers people like Kanen when they’re shown that not everyone will bend to their wills, it is extremely funny the moment they realize it and their faces turn red with fury. 

The moment Kanen’s eyes fell on Avery, he bursted into hysterical laughter which made him cringe his face in disgust. Ridiculous. “And you will do something about it? Think this carefully, sweetheart; There’s too many of us.”

Avery gives an unimpressed hum and his eyes wander around the field, counting each of them, “Oh, how scary. What, fifteen grown adults not having anything better to do with their time? I’m terrified, really.” He laughs softly, feeling the shocked and confused glares of the villagers on him, who were surely praying to all gods above that he’d shut up. But Avery has never learnt how to keep himself silent and he won’t begin now.  

Kanen finally gets off his horse with his weapon still on hand, and while the other villages retreat with each step he takes in that direction, Avery does not move from where he had been standing, and does not flinch when the ax is pointed towards him, “You should learn how to keep your mouth shut, darling. Don’t force my hand.” His eyes do not leave Kanen as the smile in his face widens, “Is it your… Hand supposed to be intimidating or something?” He chuckles, eyes lowering to where the other’s weapon had been threatening him.

The man follows his gaze and his eyes widen when instead of seeing his ax, there’s nothing but his hand still clutching what now was thin air. Kanen blinks and examines his empty hand with confusion, not knowing what just happened, as Avery stands there without moving an inch. His eyes didn’t even glow golden. “Where’s my ax?” Kanen growls in his face, irritated. While Avery shrugs, “Maybe you’re getting a bit senile? Would not judge you, grandpa.”  

Outraged, he raises his fist, “You little–!” but just when his hand was about to make contact with him, in a blink, Avery was gone and he blinked in confusion, turning to the side where he was giving him a raised eyebrow in return, looking like he had never moved. “I’m over here?” He chuckles, “Is there something wrong with your head?”

Kanen tried again but his fist never made contact with anything but air, Avery was always standing a few meters opposite of him, now behind him, feigning a yawn, “Really, I’m starting to get slightly concerned about you.” 

“W-what- How?” The scarred man mumbles under his face, eyes wide. He shares a look with his men, who look as confused as he was. Kanen snarls, “That’s it. I’m done with you!” He raises his hand and catches the sword one of his men had thrown to him from the sidelines, swinging the blade around while his eyes never left Avery, who stood in front of him and didn’t budge.

Avery had forgotten how funny it was to slow time with his magic, it had been a while since the last time he did it. From outside, it looked like Kanen was simply messing up every attack attempt he tried, and he’d see the smirk forming in Merlin and Will’s face, the former knowing probably that he was probably using magic somehow, and the latter satisfied to see Kanen being humiliated. He directed his eyes at Kanen, and sighs, “Be careful, now, Kanen. Or you’ll get hurt.” When the other tried to attack him with his sword, Avery rolled his eyes, already bored about all this and simply raising his hand towards Kanen, eyes glowing a strong shade of gold as the brute was finally sent flying a few meters away from Avery and immediately falling to the ground unceremoniously.

The man grunted and did his best to sit straight, just managing to catch the gold from Avery’s eyes finally dimming down, and he pointed towards him with his mud-stained hand, “Sorcerer!” His men immediately take defensive postures, while Avery suppresses a laugh, “Took you long enough.” 

Kanen struggled to get onto his feet but he did eventually, “This is perfect, I’ll take you to King Cenred, he surely would pay handsomely for you.” The smirk returns to his face and Avery scoffs at the mention of Cenred. 

“I mean, you can certainly try, but I doubt he’ll appreciate it.” Like he never spoke, Kanen turned to his men, “Forget about this useless excuse of a village, capture the sorcerer!” 

Avery sighs, and raises his hand before any of them could do anything about it, his eyes shine golden once again, he pulls his hand and closes it into a fist, seconds after, Kanen is being pulled towards him at a dizzying speed before the man could even process what was going on. The others went completely still immediately, eyes wide at the sight of their leader being at mercy of a sorcerer, and to the latter’s account, he wasn’t nearly scared enough at the prospect of abruptly being in front of Avery, feeling like the ground trembled under his feet and he was suddenly falling into a bottomless pit, without he even registered it, he was on his knees with the black-haired sorcerer glancing down at him with disgust. “You’re wasting your time,” he smiles threateningly, eyes darkening and tone almost a whisper, “Cenred wouldn’t dare defying me, not anymore”

Kanen barely seems to be breathing, “Who… Who are you?” 

Avery’s eyes flash gold again, and the clouds above their heads eat away the sunlight, light that shone in those golden orbs litting up ominously, “I am known as Emrys. And Ealdor is under my protection. Show your face here again, and there won’t be any mercy for you, or those that follow you. You can go to Cenred and tell him who I am, he knows me, see how he reacts when you waste his time.”

The world seemed to go back to normal then when the gold from his eyes dimmed down, Avery’s eyes are still glued to the man’s cowering frame, “Now, go.” he growls, “Before I change my mind. Heed my words, Kanen. I don’t want to see your like over these parts ever again”

Kanen scrambles onto his two feet to quickly make as much distance between him and Avery as he could. 

Needless to say, they retreated immediately. 

Avery would be pleased of this, if it weren’t for the shocked and scared looks some of the villagers were giving him. However, he didn’t care. This wasn’t his home anymore, why should he care if they hated him? As long as Hunith, Will and Merlin were safe, everything else was a means to an end, or an obstacle to gain it. 

It was true he had changed. He wasn’t the outcast, shunned by his homevillage anymore. 

Merlin wasn’t a child any more.

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It’s hard coming to terms with the past you’ve let slide, but there’s no other more different than you that your future self, who has yet to exist, and is yet to be met. How to account for every change, when stuck in the present?

Chapter Text

Little Mistress stayed quiet and helpfully still as Avery packed up his things and made sure nothing would fall off the horse while they rode back, and he was grateful for that, focusing his mind on something else as he prepared everything to go back to the druids. Even if he had been already prepared to leave Ealdor eventually, never intending to stay for longer than what was truly necessary, it didn’t mean it’d be any less hard to do so. This used to be his home, where he lived for the first sixteen years of his life –In another world– before settling in Camelot with Gaius. His mother and Will were there, but…Now that he thinks about it.

It might have never been a real home anyway. And it just struck him that he never had a true home, because…Was Camelot his home? Not, not really, isn’t a home supposed to be a place where one could be comfortable in their own skin, surrounded by people who know you by who you really are, who understand and love you? While he holds no doubt that Gaius, Gwen, the knights, Morgana at the very beginning and Arthur –in his own right, and Merlin is quite used to never expecting anything different or direct coming from him, knowing very well what his king is like; He’d never admit it outloud– loved him, or once had loved him in Morgana’s case…They didn’t really know the real him, and…He never truly allowed them to, he never gave them the chance.

Gaius knew, but he didn’t really understand it, not entirely, he taught Merlin– Avery now, how to hide his magic, how to always be careful and beware, and he knows that it was really dangerous for him back then; He was just beginning to understand his magic, his abilities, his talents, barely starting to master all this energy that flew through his veins, through every cell and every molecule of his body, every corner, every limb…While he lived in Camelot and tried to fulfill his destiny, and to do that he had to be by Arthur’s side to make sure the idiot didn’t get himself killed because of Uther Pendragon’s legacy, knowing that if he got discovered, he would’ve to leave Camelot permanently, and he couldn’t let that happen. But was that really his only option? Hiding started to eat him from inside— Every lie, all the pretend, it just started to snowball until it had escalated beyond his own comprehension, until there was no turning back, and it just began to be the only way he’d live on. 

While he loved Gaius dearly, he quickly found himself going off at night without telling the elder anything, after years of being by Arthur’s side, he just internalized that it was better to do everything on his own. How could he not? Every person who knew ended up getting hurt because of him, Lancelot died, probably because he thought it was his destiny to sacrifice himself for him and for Arthur at the Isle of The Blessed, Will took an arrow to the heart for Arthur, Gwaine died too, so did Elyan…And if he hadn’t pushed Morgana away, if he hadn’t ignored her pain, her fear and how alone she felt…Perhaps nothing of that would’ve happened. It was all on him, and others had to pay the price while he simply lived on. Was his eternal life his punishment for that? For failing.

No, he wasn’t going to let all of that happen again. No way. He needed to make things right this time around. There was no ‘if’, it was a ‘when’ he did things right. Yes, that’s why he had to be smart and leave all of this behind, Ealdor wasn’t his hometown anymore, this wasn’t his mother, this wasn’t his best friend, that life wasn’t his to take. He came here to fulfill an entirely different role, out of curiosity, to see how things would change, but he needed to be careful. What if he changed too many things at once and the future became so unpredictable he’d not be ready for that? No, he couldn’t let that happen. ‘One thing at a time’— He reminded himself. 

All of his thoughts stopped when he heard the ruffling of someone approaching him from the side, he had taken Little Mistress to the outskirts of the village so no one would bother them, but he was half-expecting someone to come looking for him anyway, after he left without uttering a single word. Avery sighs and turns around, his hand still petting the mare’s dark fur of her neck, watching as Merlin tries to regain his breath– Did he really run to make it here? How dramatic. Once the boy recomposed himself, he straightened in his stance, making eye-contact, there was confusion and concern written in every corner of his face, which only made Avery recoil on himself…How many times has he worn that same expression?

“You– You are leaving?” he inquires the obvious when he finally settles in the fact that he had been, in fact, packing all his things to leave Ealdor right now. As a reply, Avery simply shrugs, tying tighter the saddle to make sure it wouldn’t come loose and throws him off the horse’s back on the way back, “I didn’t intend on staying longer than this, anyway. Settling down was never in my plans, Merlin”

The other still looks quite upset, eyebrows knitting together in a frown, “But…You don’t have to. You’d stay here, and teach me more magic. I want to learn how to do all the things you can do! What you did there was…I never saw anyone use their magic like that.” 

He snorts, “Merlin, I’m the first person you’ve ever seen doing magic in front of you.” A smile grows easily on his face now, cheered up by the other’s adorable understanding of what happened moments prior, but it ends up dimming down after a few seconds, “I can’t stay here, there’s a place I’ve to go back to, people that need me.” My people…— “Kanen won’t bother this place ever again, I’ve a feeling he won’t try me any way soon.” chuckles softly, “Nerys is healthy again, you’re no longer concealing your magic…Ealdor doesn’t need me anymore.” 

Well, it wasn’t like he’d let all of them go back to being unsupervised, of course. He says that, but Avery would never leave this place unprotected, that’s why Comet is still somewhere around here, watching over the village, being his eyes. But he couldn’t keep overextending his stay, the druids needed him and there were a few things he had to take care of. 

Still, his words had the contrary effect all together, because Merlin seems more upset and annoyed at him now, “I need you. This is the first time in my life that I hadn’t felt like…Like a phenomenon– A freak…And it was because of you. I don’t fear my magic anymore.” At least not entirely, was what went unsaid but Avery could hear like they were his own thoughts. “Please, don’t go. I want to learn more” 

Leave it to his younger self to be this stubborn— He supposes. Avery sighs, and after a few seconds of thinking, his hand comes to one of his bags and rummages through a few of his things, pulling off what looked to be a small, plainly common book with a dark leather cover, and he tosses it towards the eleven-years old, who catches it unceremoniously almost letting it fall to the floor. “W-what’s this?” 

“A spell book, it has some of the most basic spells and enchantments that are out there. Perfect for you, since I worry that if I give you any mid-level ones you’d burn this village to the ground by accident. I wrote it myself.” Simply because the druid children needed better instruction and Avery’s memory was shit, it has been fifteen hundred years of using his magic instinctively and only using it without any uttered spells or enchantments, just letting it flow freely, driven by intent, no one could blame him because he didn’t remember the specific spells anyway, right? 

Merlin opens the book and flips through its pages, before putting on a blank face and turning it around so he’d see the contents of the book, showing the plain white sheets of paper without a single ink drop on them, “It’s blank. ” 

Avery can’t help but burst into laughter, the kid’s expression too funny to keep it together any longer. Did he really think he’d give him a book whose pages were completely blank? He wasn’t crazy, or at least, not that crazy. “Pff– It’s not blank. Hand it to me, I’ll show you.” Merlin stretches the book to him and lets him grab it, so once he has it again in his hands, he opens it and leads his magic into the book, his eyes flash golden in the process and simply seconds after whole phrases, paragraphs, words and even some scribbles, notes and detailed drawings start to appear in a soft gold glittering ink, until settling down in dark strokes, all in hand-written calligraphy, his own calligraphy, which was a little messy after hundreds of years used to writing with modern pens and other new tech he unironically missed now that he was fifteen hundred thirteen years back to the the past. 

His younger self looks absolutely amazed by this, as he takes back the book to examine it with his own eyes, but as soon as he does it, the ink starts to disappear like it had never been there, like the paper was swallowing it. “Wow…” He breathes out, “How does it work?”

Happy to teach him, Avery moves to stand beside him leaning over his shoulder, “I enchanted it so it reacts to magic and intention, so not anyone would be able to read it as a…Safety measure. Just guide your magic to it gently, keeping your intention open and sincere, and the book will show its contents to you. If you close or hand it over, it’ll immediately erase everything that has been shown so no one else can read it. Be careful with it, okay?” He tried to make emphasis in the last part. He spent too much time and effort in these books for it to end ruined!

Enough leather to make books wasn’t specifically cheap, if he is honest, but he had decided to make these only due to the fact that the druids had little to none possessions, and had to rely too much on the elders’ memory of the spells they had learned before, which, on the long run, won’t be enough, so Avery wanted them to have something that was theirs, new spells more suited for them and the children, ones that they could learn and practice.

At the same time, he had to place some enchantments to protect the book from their persecutors, in the case the camp was attacked or the books discovered, he wanted them to be protected from any kind of threat, whether it might be greedy individuals, enemies of magic like Camelot, or the fire on itself. Some were made fire and waterproof, so the risk of it being destroyed would be long gone, and if some of them were captured or found these books on them, there would be no way of anyone who didn’t know linking it to magical artifacts of any kind. 

Merlin nods a few times, “I will, I swear. Thank you!” he was no longer upset and instead a big grin was on his face now, beaming at the adult who could only reciprocate the smile with one, if not a bit smaller, of his own. 

Clutching the book tightly, the boy tries to school his expression in a futile attempt to appear serious and mature, failing because his baby face had totally the contrary effect on Avery, who just chuckled and couldn’t stop himself from ruffling the boy’s black hair, “Take care, alright?” as he says this, he walks over to the expectant mare and finally gets on the horse. “Make sure that Hunith and William are safe too.” 

Before he’d pull the reins, Merlin stops him, “Will we see you again?” Well, wasn’t that a funny question? He still couldn’t get rid of the odd sensation of having his younger self speaking to him, or shrugging off how strange it was to treat Merlin like any other kid when they were literally the same person, or at least had been. 

Avery hums, turning around Mistress in the direction the druid camp was, “Oh, don’t worry, you’ll hear from me soon. Expect a letter from me!” 

Not leaving any more room to answer, he gently nudges the mare’s side and she takes off in a fast gallope, leaving Ealdor behind.

This time, he leaves it as an outsider– A complete stranger, just like he had been before.

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Things in the camp were getting a bit crowded, simply because word had spread that there was starting to form a druid settlement somewhere in Essetír, so Merlin –Can he stop calling himself Avery now, at least for a little while? It was starting to give him an existential crisis– had run into full-on groups of druids and other magic users all across Albion, though most came from Mercia and Camelot, which were the closest and the most aggressive ones towards those with magic, all with a minimum of ten members each. Of course, no one had the stomach to turn them away, while Iseldir and Eachainn had been at first a bit hesitant of letting that many people stay with them, afraid such numbers would endanger or heighten the possibilities of their whereabouts getting discovered by their enemies –even though Merlin had reassured them that for as long as they stayed in the perimeter he traced, they’d all be protected by his magic and the barriers he placed which were still holding up perfectly– they had finally make up their minds when some of them had proved of being of some use.

However, because of this drastic increase of their numbers, Merlin had no choice but to expand more the territory they had taken, narrowly avoiding the border with Camelot, and taking more space inside Cenred’s land– Not that he gave a shit, of course, but Merlin prayed that the king remained unaware of this, the last he wanted was another encounter with the brute. One time was more than enough when spending time in the same room as Cenred was concerned. At least food and water wasn’t a concern anymore, between the newer members of the camp, there were a few who had been farmer or had experience with some major tasks like building and whatnot which came incredibly in handy– Sure, Merlin could unironically build anything that he wanted, or help the crops getting into a growing spree easy enough with just a few movements of his hands and some of his magic, but he was deeply against the idea of interfering that much in the druids’ lives. They deserved to build a home by their own hands, it’d mean more if they did it that way.

It’d help them accept the idea that this might be the first place they’d stay for the long run, not permanently because the fear of losing everything still ate them from inside –he’d see it in their faces, he’d feel it. They still had a long way ahead before all of that could be left behind, before they’d start to heal. – but it’d at least be something. 

Fortunately, most of them would keep their distance from him once they learned who he was exactly, or at least who he was for them, the ones that seemed almost unaware of him being Lord Emrys were those that didn’t form part of the druid customs, but some had been told already by others when they asked why he was given such a different treatment from the rest, so now they would stare at him with expectancy and doubt, like they didn’t really take him seriously. Which was a little funny, but Merlin didn’t care that much to do anything about it, why would he want more people treating him like some kind of divine entity? He had enough with the way most druids treated him, at least they were getting used to him being around and stopped bowing every single time he passed by.

Iseldir and Eachainn had managed to drag him into the occasional meetings they’d have, now discussing what to do if more people arrived, the ‘council’ didn’t have many members, just those two and, surprisingly, Aithne who had volunteered to give insight of what the others were talking about or their worries since they’d not voice those to them particularly, with the plus of Merlin because he was dragged into it. “We’re running out of space. If more people come it’ll start getting too crowded around here.” Iseldir mumbles, deep in thought, as they circle around a makeshift table on which a ‘map’ of Essetír they had drawn lays in the middle. 

“We can’t turn them away, though. The majority of these people left everything behind because it became too dangerous for them, they don’t have anywhere to go.” Aithne voices quietly, sparing Merlin a few shy glances, still unused to having Lord Emrys literally standing there a few meters away from her. 

“Resources aren’t an issue, fortunately” Eachainn affirms, and it was true, they had more than enough for the moment being, “The incoming problem will be running out of space…Can’t we expand ourselves and take some of Camelot’s land?” The question is aimed towards him, so Merlin hums, hand on his chin as he thoughtfully wanders his eyes around the map, it’d be a risky move, if he did so. 

He shakes his head, lowering his arms to support his weight on the table, “If we do that, we risk Uther’s men finding our camp, or some of you running into the patrols— Uther has always been paranoid regarding the other kingdoms he has never had a close ‘friendship’ with over the years, and particularly about Cenred and his land, so there is always regular set of knights patrolling that part of the border. While I can put on the same barriers I already did, I won’t risk anyone’s safety by expanding our camp beyond the border with Camelot.” The other three look pensive too, so they all dissolve into a deep silence, only broken by Aithne who after a few seconds decided to speak.

“What can we do, in that case, my Lord?” She inquires, concern slightly noticeable in her kind eyes, making Merlin immediately soften. For the Triple Goddess, he really had quite the soft spot for these people already. “Wouldn’t it be equally dangerous for us to take more of Cenred’s land? I know that this edge of the kingdom isn’t particularly worth anything, but we ought to hide our whereabouts for as long as we can, right?”

Merlin nods, quite proud of them that they didn’t fear voicing out their thoughts to him, which had been one of his main worries when he started to coexists along with the druids, fearing they’d only smile and nod to every single thing he said without arguing or voicing their opinions out loud, so the smile on his lips forms freely, “That’s right, perhaps it’d be better to establish a different settlement far from here and send the people who arrive from now on there, with the same barriers and protection I’ve placed here. Though, since I can’t be in two places at the same time—” At least not physically, of course. “I think the best course of action would be to teach a designated group a few defensive and offensive spells so they’ll be able to protect themselves in the case I’m not able to reach them in time.”

Iseldir and Eachainn share a glance before the light blond-haired man focuses on him, “I’m afraid there aren’t many whose magic would fare well in battle, most of us would’ve to train for years before being able to use magic to protect themselves, least of all others.” Well, he had a point, defensive spells were the hardest to master, and most magic users were unable to perform anything more than low-level spells, or weren’t exactly used to fighting, being farmers and builders. 

“Who would, in that case?” Aithne inquires then, genuinely curious about that. Merlin was interested in the answer too, because from what he remembered, only High Priests and Priestess of the Old Religion were trained in battle, and if he didn’t count Morgana, then that only left Morgause, who he doesn’t have an idea of where she’d be at the moment –That’s another thing he has to look up, added to the list of things he has to keep track of– and Nimueh, someone that was drowning herself in her grief, resentment and hatred towards Uther Pendragon and Camelot as a whole because of the death of her sisters and every person she loved during the Great Purge and the Hunt that followed almost immediately after. That and…The Catha–

“The Catha, isn’t it?” he can’t help but utter, coming to the realization that was it. His mind immediately supplied the memory of Alator, who had risked his life to keep his identity a secret and came out of his way to protect him many times, sending Finna his way. Maybe he’d find him in this life too and ask him to join them? They’d really use someone like a Catha, they’ve always been strong and well-trusted allies, at least those that believed in the druidic prophecies and the poetry detailing the Golden Age of Albion. 

Iseldir nods, “Yes, The Catha are known for their proficiency in such arts, although I strongly advise against putting our trust in one of them, Emrys. They’re not to be trusted, least of all with our protection.” 

Seeing his concern, Merlin immediately sends a soothing smile the older man's way with the objective of putting him at ease. While he understood Iseldir’s distrust towards The Catha, it wasn’t really their place to be prejudiced towards fellow magic users when all of them equally suffered from the same great evil and from prosecutors alike, but he couldn’t really blame the other either, he had done so as well in his first life, because after all those years of having to be in high alert to make sure no one would try to kill Arthur, or pay attention to every single change in behavior of those around him to catch any type of oddity that’d tattletale that they were plotting against the crown, the trust issues he developed were enough to write an entire book about it and he’d actually run out of pages to do so, who was he to blame others or be judgemental towards others’ own trust issues? 

“While I understand where your concern comes from, Iseldir, I believe we are not in a place where we can afford to be selective. You don’t have to worry, I’ve heard of a Catha that’d be willing to help us with our cause, I’d have to discern his whereabouts before going off to find him, but I’m sure he will help us.” 

Iseldir raises an eyebrow, “Excuse my rudeness, but what the reason would be for you to trust this man so blindly, Lord Emrys?” 

“He’s a fierce believer of the legend that foresees the Golden Age of Albion, although he is unaware of the druidic prophecies, he’ll recognise it as soon as I tell him. I’ll make sure he is actually worthy of our trust before bringing him here, of course.”

Before the others could reply, someone stormed into the tent, it was one of the sentinels they had placed on guard duty in case their whereabouts were discovered by Cenred’s men, though the barriers should be enough to keep them secluded out of the prying eye. She didn’t look particularly relaxed, drops of sweat falling down her temple as she holds tightly a parchment in one of her hands, upon catching her breath, she spares him a glance and bows, “M-My Lord! One of Cenred’s men was out at the outskirts of the camp, and left this message there for you, it’s from the king.”

Oh for god’s sake.

And no, Merlin isn’t going to make an effort to hide his annoyance at the man’s mention, what on earth does he want now? — He barely holds back a groan before nodding and accepting the offered parchment the woman was holding out for him to take, Merlin immediately tears off the royal seal that binds it before unrolling the scroll to read it.

As his eyes swiftly wander across the paper, he closes it once again when it’s done and hands it back to the woman, this time not even trying to keep a groan from coming out of his mouth. Seeing him like that, Eachainn asks confused, “A message from king Cenred, what would he want from you, my Lord?” 

Sparing them all a glance, Merlin bites back the urge to roll his eyes, “He wants to meet and have a word with me, about what? The message does not say, although it’s written that it is a matter of urgency and that I should go to the castle immediately—” he sighs, “I swear on the name of the Old Religion that if he wastes my time there’ll be no more castle.”  

He doesn’t really notice the funny faces the other four were making in response to what he just said, which would’ve sounded specially horrifying coming from him, when they’re well-aware that he’d actually do what he just threatened Cenred with and it’d be so easily, done with nothing as much as a snap of his fingers and poof!— No more castle, no more Cenred. But Merlin doesn’t leave enough time for them to reply or say anything really, “Well, there goes my relaxing evening— Iseldir, could you take over the lessons for the next couple of hours? I believe this is going to take me a while.” 

The man can only nod before Merlin disappears in front of their eyes, leaving only a few leaves in his wake, although they felt the sky thundering at the force of his magic teleporting him away.

Yeah, they probably won’t ever get used to that sort of thing.

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.

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When he appears in the main plaza just like he did the last time he went to confront Cenred, the guards at the gates to the castle jumped out of their skins at the sound of the sky cracking as soon as Merlin appears before their eyes like he has always been there, almost giving them a heart-attack. They were the same two guards that he had the fortune of meeting last time, so upon recognizing him they didn’t even try to go for their swords, they just took a step back to keep a safe distance from him so they won’t have a repeat of what happened that other time, it seems they learnt their lesson that opposing Merlin wasn’t exactly a good decision, not after the small display of power he showed them. It must be shocking for those that were used to seeing magic users that normally had no way of defending themselves or didn’t know how to use their magic for that, unlike Merlin who– Well, shouldn’t be exactly an example when taking into consideration that there wasn’t any other person capable of doing the things he was able to do, not even a single one.

He spares them a polite smile, though it comes off as a bit intimidating if the way they paled even further was anything to go by, but Merlin just ignored that, it wasn’t like he cared if they were scared shitless of him or not, “Your king is expecting me.” It’s the only thing he says, but they nod quickly a few times nonetheless, moving out of his way so he’d access the entrance and make his way through the halls to the throne room where he had seen Cenred last time. And he was quite sure that the brute was there this time around as well, because he was so egotistical a man like him would not see any other way of spending his days than the activity of sitting in his throne all day to bask under all the wealth and power the crown alone gave him. 

Of course, he wasn’t mistaken, because he was welcomed by the man standing in his throne room just like that time around. His presence was announced by one of the guards that had tried to keep up behind him at a quick pace, he hesitated before calling out, “Your Majesty, Lord Emrys has come to see you.”

Cenred immediately turns around, for a second he seemed quite confused as to why he was here, but he changed his expression so quickly Merlin wasn’t sure if he had seen it, an smug smirk forming in his face next, “Ah, Lord Emrys! I wasn’t expecting you so soon” It was just then he noticed he was holding a cup with wine in it from what he’d smell, well, he wouldn’t put it behind this brute to actually get drunk in the middle of the day. 

Merlin raises an eyebrow, staring at the other in disbelief, “You said in your message that it was a matter of urgency, and to ‘come immediately’— So here I am. Unless it wasn’t urgent at all, I’d really advise you against wasting my time, Cenred. Time is one precious thing.” Even for someone like him who burns with the intensity of an eternal flame that’d never die, unfortunately. He might have all the time in the world, but that didn’t mean he was willing to waste it on prats like this– Arthur is the only exception to that rule.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dare.” the other laughs, walking up to him, dismissing the guards out of the room with a mere wave of his hand, as he takes another cup and fills it with more wine before coming to stand almost face-to-face with him. Almost because Merlin would not react very well if he had to endure this brute being at touching range to him. “Here, would you join me for a drink?”

Well, I’ll probably need to get drunk if I want to keep myself sane enough throughout whatever in the Old Religion is about to come out of your mouth— He thinks, and would absolutely like to say it out loud but he had yet to be in the necessary sour mood to do that, so he accepts the offered cup but doesn’t drink from it. He knows very well that if Cenred was actually trying to kill him with a poisoned drink he wouldn’t be this stupid and open about it, and it wasn’t like it’d work because his magic would purify any type of toxin, nowadays there does not exist one single toxic or poisonous thing strong enough to ‘kill’ him or force him to be revived, that didn’t mean he was going to drink anything that this man offers him that easily, simply out of spite. “You didn’t ask me to come all this way only to have someone to drink with, or did you?” 

“For whom do you take me?” An annoying pest, “Of course I didn’t, no– But there’s no need to be so impatient, my Lord. I’ll tell you in no time.”

For some reason, Merlin doesn’t really like the tone the other is using when addressing him, but what does a fifteen hundred thirteen years old being like him know about that, right? 

.

“What to do when you see those you once loved move on when you’re stuck in the past, when they’ve forgotten you and everything that has occurred between you for the sake of a new present, a more promising future? Would it hurt, would you desire to take another’s place, would you be jealous?

It doesn’t matter, when it hasn’t been your life to live since the moment you stepped under that familiar starry sky you used to know.”

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