Trials | Merlin FanFiction (Merthur)

Chapitre Six

Overnight, the snow flurries turned into a snowstorm, which turned into a full-fledged blizzard, snow as scouring as sand, driven by the wind. They were forced to stay in the cave another day, and Arthur fretted about their slow pace.

"Where are we even going, anyway?" Merlin asked. He was trying to sharpen Arthur's sword in the uncertain light using a whetstone, and he was pretty sure he wasn't having much success.

"Assuming the fucking snow ever lets up, Tintagel," Arthur said briefly, standing at the mouth of the cave and frowning at the curtain of white falling past the opening of the cave.

"Where's that?" Merlin asked absently, working the whetstone over the point of the sword. Arthur didn't respond right away, and Merlin looked up. "Is it close?"

"It's on the Western edge of the kingdom, maybe five days' ride away from Camelot," Arthur said, and came back to sit by the fire. "Of course, that's in good weather. I haven't been there in years, since Father's last campaign."

"But it's still in Camelot? Are you sure that's safe? I thought we'd be leaving the kingdom," Merlin said, unable to hide his worry, and Arthur sighed. He looked tired, and a little remote. His prince look, Merlin thought, when he was facing a situation with no easy solution, but couldn't be avoided or ignored.

"I can't leave, Merlin" Arthur said quietly, leaning forward. He took the sword from Merlin's hand, and leveled it, eyeing down the length of the blade critically. "In order to leave Camelot, I would need to seek permission of that land's ruler to cross their lands--to travel without their permission would be a grave insult, and normally would be a just cause for war, if I traveled as the Crown Prince. Even traveling unofficially, I would surely be arrested if they caught me."

"Yeah," Merlin said, "but really, you don't need to worry about that." He wiggled his fingers helpfully, just in case Arthur had forgotten.

Arthur sighed. "Merlin, I'm sure you're capable of many things, but I doubt you can fight off all of Albion. It wouldn't matter, in any case. I'm not having my manservant fight my battles for me."

Merlin tried not to let his expression give away his opinion of that, and bit back a response. It wasn't like he needed to win the argument in order to protect Arthur, anyway. He'd managed it nicely without Arthur's permission so far, he could do it a little longer. "So why don't you ask their permission?"

Arthur frowned. "If I left Camelot openly to go to another kingdom, I would be called to stay at the royal court as their guest. But I seek refuge in a foreign court, it will lead to war. Many would interpret my presence as an excuse for an invasion into Camelot, which my father would resist fiercely. Camelot would be torn apart," he said, "and I can't do that."

"But you can't stay here," Merlin argued, "Uther will certainly look for you. He declared you outlaw, he's got men looking for you right now."

"Which is why we're going to Tintagel," Arthur said. "It's part of Camelot, but really that's in name only--it's Druid land around there, that whole region to the west, and my father was never able to subdue them. Not really."

Merlin looked at him, curiously. "What, never?"

"The last campaign was when I was twelve. It was my first time commanding a battalion," Arthur said, reminiscing. "We fought for five straight months, back and forth, and when winter finally came we had achieved not a single extra inch of ground. My father simply decided to declare victory and go home." He smiled ruefully at the memory.

Merlin raised an eyebrow and refrained from commenting. Arthur slid a sideways glance at him. "No," he said dryly. "It wasn't a decision he made happily. But he did negotiate a treaty with them, where Camelot's soldiers do not enter, and the Druids do not leave. It's served to keep the peace for the last eight years, and it remains under Camelot's control, if only symbolically."

"That would make it almost a neutral ground," Merlin said, in dawning realization. "It's not foreign, but it's not really Camelot, either."

"Exactly," Arthur said, confidently. "It's a safe place. None of my father's men would be able to come after us there. Not even Camelot's tax collectors enter--the Druids pay some tribute, horses mostly, but they deliver them to a town outside the area. Plus Tintagel's been abandoned for years, no one will think to look for us there." He pushed himself to his feet, restlessly. "I'm going to get more wood," he said abruptly, handing Merlin back the sword and pulling his cloak around his shoulders. Merlin chewed his lip thoughtfully as Arthur headed toward the tree line, dim and smudged through the falling snow.

A no-man's-land filled with Druids who'd fought off the armies of Uther, to a castle that likely was in ruins. This was his safe place? Merlin glared at the back of Arthur's head as he trudged away, and began mentally reviewing war spells.

Unfortunately, since he didn't know any, it didn't take that long. Merlin sighed and went back to sharpening Arthur's sword. That, at last, he could do.