Swimming with the Sidhe - Chapter 4
Aug. 13th, 2013 08:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gwyllionTitle: Swimming with the Sidhe
Author:gwylliondream
Genre: Canon era
Pairings: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: NC-17
Words: 53,589
Author's notes: Swimming with the Sidhe was written for![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
paperlegends and as a kinkme_merlin fill for this prompt.
Disclaimer: All Arthurian characters are the property of BBC/Shine and their creators. The Calming Manatee and most of its words belong to HT (the Human Typist) of the Calming Manatee meme.
Comments: Comments are welcome anytime! Thanks so much for reading!
The horn sounded loud and clear just as Merlin remembered it had when Arthur summoned Uther back from death. Echoing through the forest, the constant tone of the horn sent the birds alight. The tone wafted from the shore to the treetops as Merlin now summoned his king.
When he felt his lungs empty of breath, Merlin lowered the horn, his chest rising and falling quickly as he panted in the fresh air. He chastised himself for refusing to wait for Morforwyn to appear at the lakeside. Perhaps the manatee would have assured him that it was safe to proceed with the horn’s call. But Merlin’s desire to bring Arthur back, to see his king again, was impossible to put off any longer. His body thrummed with anticipation. With the horn in his possession, Merlin could fulfil the one task at which he would surely succeed. The hope he had for this task’s completion had tormented Merlin intensely over the days he had been separated from Arthur. He couldn’t bear to wait one moment longer.
Not even the appearance of his spirit animal could stop him from calling for Arthur now.
Tonight, the lake looked like a polished mirror of glass. No ripple indicated any action below the surface, either by Arthur or the Sidhe. Not even Morforwyn with his love for the water could be seen disturbing the flat surface of the lake.
All was silent.
Frustrated at the prospect of another imminent failure, Merlin raised the horn to his lips and blew again. Over the past day, he had been able to put aside his guilt over not calling Kilgharrah in time to help Arthur. He travelled through the forest alone, tentatively forgiving himself for what he perceived as a great misstep that cost Arthur his life. But now, the same feeling of guilt began to creep up on him, taking firm hold of his memory. The certainty that he was responsible for Arthur’s death was unbearable. It made Merlin more determined than ever to draw his king from his resting place. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, his cheeks red with the effort, as the horn sounded over the still water. If only Arthur would appear, Merlin swore that he would never make such a mistake again.
Merlin scanned the surface of the lake as the low moan from the horn echoed through the forest. The foggy mist of dusk had descended almost to the water, hiding the tower from view. Darkness was falling fast and Merlin soon would be left alone again on the shore, with his grief as his only companion.
“Arthur,” Merlin called when his lungs emptied of air, his eyes blinking as they watched the water. “Arthur, come back to me… please.”
The silence made Merlin’s heart fill with despair. The horn didn’t work. Merlin groaned in disbelief. The lake remained still with no indication of Arthur being summoned. It was as if everything Merlin had done to get the horn to revive Arthur had been for naught.
Still clutching the horn, Merlin fell back onto his arse and sat on the muddy shore, tears welling in his eyes again for the loss of his beloved king. He looked to the sky and screamed at the top of his lungs. There were no words, only an incoherent flurry of syllables now that there was no dragon to call and no hope left in Merlin’s heart. His wailing only made his head ache worse.
Merlin didn’t notice the wake that the manatee’s path left in the water until Morforwyn flopped onto the shore beside him.
“Merlin, I'm so happy to see you!” Morforwyn shouted, the splash of water soaking Merlin’s clothes as the manatee beached himself.
Merlin shuddered under the unexpected onslaught of water. He was surprised to see the look of glee on Morforwyn’s whiskered face.
“What is it?” Merlin asked through his anguish. He didn’t know whether to lament the horn’s failure or to wonder what the manatee could possibly have to say to him now that he had failed to summon Arthur with the horn.
“You just need to wait a tiny bit longer and you’ll see,” Morforwyn said, resting his flipper on Merlin's lap. “I know things are tough for you right now, but it will get better real soon. We just need to take things one step at a time. Everything is going to turn out great. You just need to be a little more patient.”
“Patient? For what?” Merlin asked with a sob. “I’m a failure!”
“Hey there, please don't say such mean things about yourself. That's my favourite person you're talking about. Just watch, and see,” Morforwyn said gently as he turned his face to the water.
Merlin couldn’t understand why the creature gazed back toward the lake. Nothing disturbed the surface, although Merlin could barely see through his teary eyes.
“I don’t see anything,” Merlin said, scanning the lake.
“You should have waited longer, but I think they’ll show themselves anyway,” Morforwyn said. “At least, I hope they will. Just watch.”
Merlin moved Morforwyn’s flipper aside and got to his feet to have a better look at the water. The fog swirled close to the lake and the hazy sun had already dipped well below the horizon.
“What is it, Morforwyn?” Merlin asked, getting agitated. Why would the manatee insist that he look at the lake when there was nothing there to see? “The horn didn’t work, or Arthur would be here by now. That’s how it happened with Uther. He came right after Arthur called him, walked right up to him as if he were waiting to be summoned.”
“Enough about Uther! He doesn’t matter now. Remember what I told you about the water, Merlin,” Morforwyn said, his voice calm and reassuring.
Merlin thought about the water and what Morforwyn had told him when they first met. He turned the horn over in his hand, rolling the thin mouthpiece between his fingers.
“The amazing thing about the water is that you always get what you need?” Merlin asked.
“That’s right, Merlin. And it’s so very true. You just have to believe that you deserve the things you need,” Morforwyn said.
“But I’ve failed.” Merlin sobbed. “I failed to keep Mordred from Arthur. I failed to get Arthur to the lake in time, and now I’ve failed to summon him with the Horn of Cathbhadh. I don’t deserve anything.”
“Oh, but you do, Merlin,” Morforwyn said. “You’re not a failure to me. I love you so much. You’re smart, and you’re pretty. Everyone deserves something as simple as happiness—even you.”
Merlin sniffled. He didn’t mind the manatee telling him how smart and pretty he was, even if he didn’t believe that others saw him that way. But deserving of happiness? “No, I don’t think I’ve ever done anything to deserve being happy,” he said.
“Of course you have,” Morforwyn said. “You just need to believe in yourself as much as I believe in you. Then you’ll find your true happiness.”
“But I don’t think anything will make me believe in myself,” Merlin said. “There’s no reason to anymore.”
“Think, Merlin,” the manatee said, “what would make you happiest? What is it that you really want? The one thing you’ve wanted for your whole life.”
“To protect Arthur,” Merlin said sadly. He lowered his head, taking his eyes off the water.
“Yes, you’ve always wanted to protect Arthur, but that’s not all. That’s just what you’ve been telling yourself for all these years. It’s the idea that the dragon Kilgharrah put into your head,” Morforwyn said with frustration. “What is it that you want, Merlin, something that’s just for you alone, deep down. Think. What will bring you the greatest joy?”
Merlin thought hard about what would make him happiest, but he could only come up with Arthur’s return to Camelot.
“Think about yourself, Merlin,” the manatee said. “Only what matters to you. Don’t worry about what anyone else wants.”
Of course that made Merlin think of the other people in his life more strongly than ever. He thought about Gwen, how even though Arthur was dead, she had found happiness with Leon. He shook his head when he remembered Arthur promising himself to her. Merlin was so happy for his king, but now after he learned that Gwen could move on so easily… it hurt Merlin to think of how sad Arthur would be if he knew….
“Your happiness, Merlin,” Morforwyn kept rambling. “What is the source of your greatest joy? And please don't tell me that you are not pretty enough, strong enough, tough enough, smart enough, good enough or whatever else. You are a great person. You deserve to have everything you want.”
Merlin tried hard to think of what brought him the greatest joy, but everything centred on his beloved king whose body he had set adrift in a wooden boat, hoping that the Sidhe would heal him in this very same lake.
“What brings you the most happiness?” Morforwyn asked, his voice patient and calming.
And then Merlin remembered.
He first acknowledged it when he had run to the lake with the Horn of Cathbhadh in his hand.
Arthur!
But not to be with Arthur as the king he must protect from harm, but to be with Arthur again and free from the secret of his magic. And not for two pitiful days while he tried to save Arthur’s life—but for always. To live a life with Arthur healthy and whole, their affection for each other intact.
It was Arthur who brought Merlin his greatest joy—and not because Merlin was charged to protect him from his enemies. It was an idea that thrived on its own merit. To have Arthur by his side again with none of the secrets that had burdened Merlin since the day he had first met the prattish prince. Life with Arthur whose teasing words called him an idiot, but always made him smile. Arthur who would lay down his own life if it meant sparing Merlin from suffering any pain. Arthur, who Merlin ached to hold in his arms, the secret of his magic no longer an issue, and the secret of his love no longer pushed to the dim corners of his heart.
“Arthur,” Merlin said. “I love Arthur.” A hiccup of laughter escaped from Merlin’s chest. He had never felt so free as he did when he could give voice to that which brought him his greatest joy.
“The amazing thing about the water is that you always get what you need,” Morforwyn said as calmly as ever. “The water, Merlin, it will make you feel so free. It’s a lot like love.”
“I need to go into the water?” Merlin asked.
Morforwyn nodded toward the lake. “It couldn’t hurt,” he said.
Merlin set the horn down and quickly tugged off his boots and socks, throwing them onto the shore in a heap. Without hesitation he picked up the horn and stepped into the lake, the muddy bottom squishing between his toes. Thinking better of it, he stripped off his jacket and tossed it to the shore as well. He waded a few steps forward and stopped.
“Are you coming?” he asked Morforwyn.
“Gladly,” Morforwyn said as he pushed himself off the shore with his powerful tail.
Merlin waded a few steps further, the water rising over his knees. He didn't care that his only breeches got wet. Wiping away the last traces of his tears, he watched the water, hoping that Morforwyn’s proclamation meant good news. He sensed the manatee’s body swimming nearby, gracefully weaving circles around him where he stood.
And then, just when Merlin thought he might need to blow the horn again just for good measure, he saw it.
A glimmer of light rose to the surface of the lake. First one, then two, and Merlin wondered if it was a trick of the rising moon or if his eyes deceived him. Then three, then four, five, then an explosion of lights made their way from the depths to where the water met the air.
Morforwyn swam beside Merlin and startled him when he raised his head above the water, despite his calming presence at Merlin’s side beneath the lake.
“Are they what I think they are?” Merlin asked, gathering himself.
“They are the Sidhe,” Morforwyn said, “they’re here, just like you wished they would be.”
Merlin breathed quickly, filled with new hope. His magic swirled through him, threatening to escape from his fingertips if he were brave enough to let it challenge the Sidhe.
“Arthur?” Merlin asked. “Can they heal Arthur?”
“Let's see what they have to say,” Morforwyn said. “It’s a bit complicated.”
But there was no time for Merlin to ask what the Sidhe had planned. Their tiny wings broke the surface of the water, sending droplets into a whirlwind of rain that dotted the lake with circles of wavelets. Merlin raised a hand to shield his eyes from the spray, the horn gripped tightly in the other. When the Sidhe’s barrage stopped, Merlin could see clearly again. In the centre of the lake, not ten yards from where Merlin stood with the water soaking his breeches and darkening the hem of his tunic, a head of wet golden hair broke the surface of the water.
At first Merlin couldn’t believe his eyes. But there was no mistaking the familiar way Arthur’s lips spat a spray of water to clear his mouth. He rose from the lake’s depths, gaining a footing, the droplets cascading from the hair plastered dark against his forehead as he emerged.
“Arthur?” Merlin gasped. Fresh tears clung to his eyelashes as he strode forward, his legs heavy in the deepening water.
A small laugh of disbelief sputtered from Arthur’s mouth. His lips had gone blue from the cold and Merlin wished he had a cloak to wrap around him. He supposed his jacket would have to suffice when they reached the shore. Above the water, the fairylight from the Sidhe illuminated Arthur’s naked shoulders where they rose from the water of the silvery lake.
The tiny Sidhe spirits darted about in the chilly air, making Merlin want to bat them away when they flitted in front of his eyes, blocking his view of Arthur arisen.
“Watch out,” Morforwyn said as a bright green Sidhe with glowing wings descended swiftly through the air to take a swipe at Merlin’s head.
Merlin turned just in time to deflect the Sidhe’s attack with a strand of magic unleashed from his fingertips. He sent the spirit spinning across the lake before the fairy could regain control of his flight.
“I warned you that they don’t always behave like you want them to,” Morforwyn said with a sigh.
Merlin remembered that Morforwyn had told him that the Sidhe liked to be entertained. He supposed that’s why they kept flitting around his head, threatening to disrupt his reunion with Arthur. Merlin was happy for the diversion when Morforwyn dove beneath the surface. The Sidhe followed him, the faint glow of their fairy bodies trailing after Morforwyn as he swam into deeper water.
Merlin felt like he could finally breathe again.
“Merlin,” Arthur said, his voice fond. “I had a feeling you’d come back for me.”
“Arthur?” Merlin said, the sound of his name rolling off his lips like a prayer.
“I’m relieved to know that you’re not nearly as useless as you led me to believe,” Arthur said, “especially under these circumstances.”
Merlin stopped where he stood, the water surging over his thin leather belt. He was overcome with the urge to rush toward Arthur, to embrace him and never let him go. But he had to be sure that this was really Arthur. There was something unfamiliar about the man that made him hesitate. It worried him enough to stop moving through the water toward him. Struggling for what to do next, Merlin remained frozen in place. He wanted to be sure that this was Arthur and that no harm would come to either of them, as it had when the Horn of Cathbhadh had been used to summon Uther.
“Of course I came back for you, you miserable prat,” Merlin said with a tiny laugh, thinking of no better way to let Arthur know how much he missed him than to resume their gentle banter.
Arthur smiled and watched Merlin with the same heated affection that he always did.
“Arthur, is it really you?” Merlin asked unsteadily. More than anything now, he worried that Arthur would suffer the same effect that the horn had rent on Uther. He couldn’t bear it if Arthur began to hurl insults at him, ungrateful for all that he had done to bring them to this point. He looked for Morforwyn in hopes of getting some reassurance, but the manatee lumbered through the deep water, followed by the playful Sidhe.
“Merlin, look at me. I can tell you’re scared. I promise I won’t hurt you,” Arthur said.
Arthur had undoubtedly remembered the trauma he suffered when he summoned Uther. He had hoped that his father would be proud of him, but instead he received only discouragement. Merlin nodded, accepting Arthur’s promise. He knew Arthur would never hurt him.
“Arthur, it worked,” Merlin said, holding the horn in his outstretched hand. “And you're really here. I used the horn to summon you.”
Merlin bit his lip in worry, hoping that Arthur wouldn’t be angry at him for bringing him back from the dead. He watched the way Arthur moved as he stepped toward him, his shoulders bare and glistening in the fairylight as the Sidhe and Morforwyn slowly dove and breached around them. He wanted to go nearer to Arthur, to hold him, to caress his face, his brow, his hair.
“I’m sorry, Merlin. I thought you realized. The horn didn’t work,” Arthur said resolutely. “The manatee was supposed to tell you, but I see he is occupied.”
Arthur turned around to look for Morforwyn who frolicked in the waves with the Sidhe. They swam in circles around Arthur and Merlin as they stood in the middle of the lake.
It was then that Merlin noticed what was different about Arthur. His skin had taken on the shimmer of the fairylight. It gleamed as if Arthur was a solid form, but upon closer inspection, his skin became transparent. Merlin could see through his body to watch the Sidhe’s lights when they chased Morforwyn into the distance. Arthur was right. The horn didn’t work. Arthur was still dead. Merlin could see right through him.
“I’m so sorry, Arthur,” Merlin said. “I thought the horn worked. I’m so sorry I failed you again.”
Merlin couldn’t bear the pain of disappointing Arthur a second time. He shrank away, stepping backward as the mud worked its way between his toes. His one true purpose that had been his goal since he came to Camelot from Ealdor had been rendered unsuccessful again.
He buried his face in his hands, dropping the useless horn into the water.
For Merlin, it was as if he had suffered Arthur’s death a second time. This time was more painful than the first because of his dashed hopes. Again, Merlin mourned for the people who had lost their lives so that Arthur could bring peace and security and the acceptance of magic to the realm. Friends and fellow magic users, they deserved better than this. Merlin felt as responsible for their loss as he did for Arthur’s death. If only he had stopped Mordred at Camlann, instead of listening to Arthur’s plea for reinforcements. Now, the Camelot he knew would die with Arthur, just as he had feared.
All his work, all his hopes, it had all been for nothing.
And love?
Now Merlin had lost any chance for winning Arthur’s love. The freedom that he dreamed about, the one sacred joy that he had confessed to Morforwyn, it was lost forever now. How could this wreck of his life ever be made right? He may as well sink to the depths and breathe the water into his lungs, forgetting that anyone ever believed he was the greatest sorcerer to walk the earth.
“Merlin,” Arthur said, “don’t be such an idiot.”
Arthur swiftly closed the distance between them and took Merlin in his arms, stopping him from moving backwards. The water swirled around them. He pulled Merlin close, nudging his head into the crook of his neck.
Merlin collapsed in a fit of sobbing, his hands clutching Arthur’s wet shoulders that felt real, despite the transparency of his flesh. He tried to speak, but his mouth was pressed against the cool skin of Arthur’s chest. Breathing in Arthur’s familiar scent, Merlin was grateful for the reminder of how it felt to be close to him, even if he would never live again.
“Shhh,” Arthur said, stroking Merlin’s hair, his voice a comfort in Merlin’s ears despite the failure of the horn. “You didn’t fail me. You never have.”
“I tried so hard,” Merlin finally managed, “how could it not have worked?”
“The horn?” Arthur asked, pulling away from Merlin, but keeping one arm wrapped around his waist while he snatched the horn from where it floated in the water.
“It was supposed to bring you back from the dead,” Merlin said, daring to make eye contact with Arthur for the first time since he recognized something was amiss.
Arthur shook his head slowly. “This is simply a trinket from an old woman, given to us in appreciation from when we saved her. I doubt she knew its true power or what it might do when I summoned my father,” Arthur said.
“But I used it to summon you,” Merlin said,
“No, it’s just an old relic of the magical age. I wouldn’t put my trust in such an object, not after how my father reacted when we summoned him,” Arthur said shaking his head with disdain.
“No?” Merlin asked, worry crossing his mind.
“Don’t be such a girl, Merlin,” Arthur said, taking in Merlin’s frown.
Merlin scowled at being called a girl. At least some things never changed. Merlin pushed his hands against Arthur's bare chest in protest.
Arthur seemed to know that he had amused Merlin and he began to pull him in for another embrace. As he did so, he circled his fingers around Merlin's wrist.
Merlin couldn't help but wince.
“You're hurt,” Arthur said, holding Merlin’s wrist up to the moonlight and examining the bruises that marked Merlin's pale skin.
Merlin debated with himself momentarily over whether to tell Arthur how he got the bruises.
“I had a slight problem with Gwen and she had the guards throw me in the dungeon,” Merlin said. “She's a bit angry about my magic,” he added.
“Well, that's to be expected,” Arthur said, gently brushing his thumb over a dark bruise. “Not everyone will be as impressed with it as I was.”
Merlin snorted. “And… she thinks I let you die,” Merlin said, unsure of how many details of Gwen's reign he should share.
Arthur shook his head. “I'm sure she was upset, but I left her in charge. Gaius must have given her my seal. Everything was just as she always wanted, and Leon—”
“Leon released me from the dungeon so I could come to you,” Merlin said with a nod.
“He's a good man,” Arthur said. “He and Gwen... they deserve some happiness together.”
“You knew?” Merlin asked. He couldn’t bear the thought of Arthur being hurt by Gwen’s attraction to Leon. It wouldn’t be the first time Arthur had lost Gwen’s heart to another man. He watched Morforwyn’s slow rise and fall beneath the water, the Sidhe trailing behind him in a slow parade.
“I was the king, Merlin,” Arthur said, releasing Merlin’s wrist. “There's very little I didn't know.”
“Well, you didn't know about my magic,” Merlin said with a small laugh, but then he grew serious and said, “I'm sorry I kept it a secret for so long. You trusted me and I let you down.”
Arthur let the Horn of Cathbhadh slip from his hand. He cupped Merlin’s chin in his hand and stroked his thumb across Merlin’s cheek in reassurance. “My distrust of the horn doesn’t affect how much I trust you. You came back for me, after all. We just need to figure out a way to make this right.”
Merlin shivered at Arthur's touch. “You're so cold,” he said, touching his fingers to the back of Arthur’s hand. His touch seemed to warm Arthur’s skin. He could sense Arthur’s heart beating in his chest, but when he chanced a glimpse of his body, it was as he feared. He could see straight through what should have been Arthur’s solid form, lean and muscular, strong and fit. Instead, he watched Morforwyn and the lights of the Sidhe as they swam among the waves as if Arthur wasn't there to block his view at all.
Arthur seemed to notice that Merlin was distracted by the Sidhe. “Warm me up,” Arthur said, pulling Merlin back into his embrace, his lips whispering against Merlin's neck. “Lucky I recognized you without that foolish neckerchief.”
Merlin moaned when he felt Arthur's hands move to the small of his back. They seemed to warm even as they came into contact with the thin fabric of his tunic. He managed a small smile, grateful that he could provide Arthur with some warmth from the cold. His hands roamed over Arthur's naked arms, working their heat into his skin.
“I didn’t have time to get properly cleaned up,” Merlin said.
Arthur's fingers stroked Merlin's back, working their way upward until his fingers were tangled in Merlin's hair. A spark of arousal uncurled in Merlin's belly, making him feel warmer still, despite the cold water that lapped at his waist. The knot on his head could be ignored in favour of Arthur’s affectionate touch. Arthur let the fingers of one hand play over Merlin's ear before slipping their way down Merlin's cheek to his chin. When Merlin let his gaze drift from the lake to Arthur's eyes, he saw Arthur watching him with more intensity than Merlin had ever seen him demonstrate before, except perhaps in battle.
“If we escape this mess,” Arthur said, before correcting himself with a tiny shake of his head, “when we escape this, I promise I’ll never leave you again.”
Merlin felt like his heart stopped. Before he could think of something coherent to say, he watched Arthur’s face draw closer until he brushed his lips against Merlin’s.
“Arthur?” Merlin whispered, drawing back.
But Arthur didn't answer with words. Instead, he pressed forward, stopping Merlin from speaking with a flick of his tongue against Merlin's lips, beckoning for entrance. Merlin happily obliged. He gave his mouth over to Arthur. He could always make the excuse that he was trying to warm Arthur, if Arthur decided later that it was a mistake.
Merlin melted into the kiss, letting his arms float to Arthur’s back, his shoulders, his hair. For so long, he had felt undeserving of Arthur’s love. After all, he had convinced himself that he was responsible for Arthur’s death, yet here he was with Arthur in some state of half-living, half-dead, kissing him in the middle of a lake.
Arthur's lips felt as wonderful as he had always imagined against his. Merlin quietly doubted himself, wondering what he had ever done that was so great that he should have his every unspoken desire fulfilled. He was just a simple farm boy from Ealdor with a big secret. Surely he didn't deserve the love of a king. But the delicious press of Arthur’s cold meeting his warmth proved otherwise. Arthur's mouth on his was enough to make him forget his failures and his misery for a little while. Having the comfort of the calming manatee to guide him made things even easier still.
Ever since he came to Camelot, Merlin’s goal had always been to ensure that Arthur became the great leader he was destined to be—the ruler of Camelot and the king who would unify all of Albion. But Merlin had been so obsessed with saving Arthur from every threat, all the while hiding his magic so he himself wasn't caught and killed, that he barely noticed he had fallen in love. It took the discovery of Kilgharrah's lies for Merlin to put aside his goal of ensuring Arthur became a great king. Just as it took the friendship of a calming manatee to make him believe in himself, to love himself, and to fulfil his own destiny with Arthur, even if it was only to share this one kiss.
If historians looked back at a great kingdom that flourished because Merlin saved Arthur so many times, so be it.
But if there was never a great kingdom to come… if they both lived here at the lake, Arthur in the water that somehow seemed to keep him nearly alive and Merlin on the nearby land, it would be better than for Merlin never to have kissed Arthur at all.
If there was any doubt whether Arthur felt the same way, Merlin had his answer when he tilted his head back and saw the love in Arthur's eyes. There was no need for rationalizations or excuses. Arthur had intended to kiss him and he was happy to kiss him again.
Merlin wove his fingers through Arthur’s wet hair and pulled him in for another kiss. Arthur wore a half-smile and eagerly went along, following Merlin’s lips with his eyes before Merlin swept his lips over Arthur’s mouth again. Merlin’s eyes drifted shut as he urged himself to avoid questioning why they had never done this before. They were kissing now, and that was the only thing that mattered.
The silence was broken by the sound of a manatee clearing his throat.
“Hey, you two,” Morforwyn called as he swam alongside Arthur. “I just know that you are going to do incredible things together, but have you forgotten that you have some unfinished business here?”
Arthur sucked gently on Merlin's lower lip before turning his attention to the manatee. “I haven't forgotten,” he said, brushing Merlin's nose with his own.
“It's been a lot of fun distracting the Sidhe so you could hug and kiss,” Morforwyn said, nudging Arthur with a flipper so he backed away from Merlin. “But have you told Merlin about your plan to get free from here?”
Behind the manatee, an assembly of Sidhe had gathered, their lights illuminating the surface of the lake so that it was nearly as bright as day. Their leader, who Merlin knew as the fearsome Adaneth, floated regally above the lake, an entourage of tiny fairies bowed in mid-air at his feet.
“I haven't had a chance yet,” Arthur said, casting a suspicious glance at Adaneth. He rubbed a hand over Morforwyn's snout as the manatee stretched his head above the water.
“Well, I'll leave that to you. Merlin did a great job today,” Morforwyn said, turning to face Merlin as Arthur continued rub his face. “I am so proud of you.”
“But I haven't done anything. The horn didn't work.” He glanced from where the horn floated uselessly in the water, then back to Arthur for assurance that he had told him the truth about the horn. “Arthur is still dead.”
Arthur stepped closer to Merlin, ignoring the manatee. He laid his hands on Merlin's shoulders and said, “There's something I must ask of you.”
“You may as well tell him,” Adaneth interrupted, his teeth glowing with a greenish hue. “The reason why Arthur couldn’t be revived by the Horn of Cathbhadh should be obvious—he was never dead.”
Merlin was confused. He backed away from Arthur, fearing what he had become. “But he was dead when I set him adrift in the wooden boat,” Merlin said to Adaneth. “I'm quite sure of it. I was looking to you for help in healing him when he died.”
“I'm sorry, Merlin,” Arthur said, lowering his hands to the water. “You were so strong throughout the ordeal. We almost made it to the lake in time.”
Merlin felt as though his heart would break if he were to discover that Arthur's appearance had simply been an illusion, a trick played on him by the angry Sidhe. “Is there no chance of bringing you back then? What are you?” Merlin asked, devastated.
“Calm yourself, Merlin,” Morforwyn said, swimming behind Merlin so he couldn’t back further away from Arthur. “The Sidhe are almost finished healing Arthur, but they need your help.”
“And why should I help them?” Merlin asked. “They only want to ruin things and they've wanted to command Arthur and guide his decisions for years now. We’ve always been able to hold them off.”
Adaneth looked smug as he watched Merlin in distress. One more sneer and Merlin wouldn’t hesitate to unleash the fury of his magic against him. Fortunately Arthur’s confident voice brought his spirit back to calmness.
“As I died, you begged me to stay with you,” Arthur said gently. “You remember? It was enough... the thought of leaving you was enough to keep me from dying completely, despite my mortal injury. The Sidhe saw an opportunity and they began to heal me, but they want something in return before they finish the job.”
Merlin examined the wound left by the sword in Arthur’s side. The flesh was stained with shades of purple bruising and an angry red seam from where Mordred's sword had plunged home. Merlin let his fingers trace over the wound, gauging whether he dared to try healing Arthur with his magic. His eyes flashed gold as he assessed the damage, but it wasn't clear to him whether his magic would be enough to reverse the injury caused by the magical blade. He supposed he'd have to trust Gaius's word that only the Sidhe could heal Arthur. As much as he wanted Arthur to be healed, he'd only try to use his magic if there were no other choice.
If the Sidhe could heal Arthur, he could return to Camelot with Merlin. If the Sidhe's powers worked in Arthur's favour, there needn't be only one kiss shared between Merlin and his king. The love he had for Arthur overwhelmed him and made his decision a simple one. Merlin's fingers drifted from Arthur's ribs to his chest, to his neck.
He slid his thumb over Arthur's lips.
“If they can restore you to life, there's nothing I won't do,” Merlin said.
Arthur grasped Merlin's hand and pressed a kiss to his palm. “There's a way that they’ll agree to do it,” he said. “But only if you're sure.”
“It's not my decision alone,” Merlin said. “You need to want this too.”
“I wanted to be certain of your feelings before I agreed to the Sidhe's request. If they are to heal me, there can be no room for doubt. I don't want to return to a world where you….” Arthur seemed to struggle to find the words.
It pained Merlin to see Arthur with a furrowed brow and his fingers gripping Merlin’s hand for dear life.
“I don’t want to return to a world where you didn't love me,” Arthur finally managed.
Merlin turned his palm so that both he and Arthur’s fingers wove together. There was no doubt that this was what Merlin desired above anything he had ever wished for in his life. “I'll do it. I'll do whatever they want,” he said.
“The Sidhe want a place at the Round Table,” Arthur said.
Merlin cringed, but caught himself before he could spout off about how improper their request was—they were Sidhe, for gods' sakes. They didn’t deserve a place in Arthur’s court. The feel of Morforwyn’s weight against the back of his knees grounded him. He was sorry for the loss when the manatee swam toward Adaneth and his fairy companions.
“If they heal me,” Arthur said, “they want an equal voice with the other kingdoms of the realm with whom we have worked to build alliances. I promised them a place at the Round Table in Camelot and they agreed, under one further condition.”
Merlin couldn’t imagine what more the Sidhe could want. “If you think it is the right thing to do, I’ll go along with you,” Merlin said, silently hoping that the Sidhe’s conditions wouldn’t be too difficult to fulfil.
“They want the crown of Cerdic, the Saxon king,” Arthur said, his fingers tightening against Merlin’s. “When they have it, they will have an equal voice among the leaders of the other kingdoms with whom we share alliances.”
Merlin listened and nodded. He tried to imagine the best case scenario. Perhaps he could locate the Saxon camp and snatch the crown from Cerdic’s head while he slept. That would work, but only if Cerdic’s new allies didn’t catch him and disembowel him first.
“We’ve been decimated by the Saxons in years past,” Adaneth said. “They’ve stolen many riches from us, including the crown that they use to adorn their leader. If you restore the crown to its rightful Sidhe owners, we will repay you by healing your king. We look forward to joining him n Camelot as he unites the kingdoms of the realm to work toward common goals.”
Merlin shuddered to think of the Sidhe working in unison with Arthur’s court. They always seemed to have their hand in hand in mischief. Would Arthur be able to guide their decisions? What if they refused to cooperate for the good of all?
“The decision is yours,” Arthur said. “If you feel you can't do it, I’ll understand. I know it’s a lot to ask of you, but I can’t do it myself. I’m trapped here.”
“You should choose the option that makes you happiest,” Morforwyn said, basking with his belly to the sky.
Merlin thought hard. He was fairly certain that Arthur could contain the Sidhe’s ways with his strong leadership. Failing that, Merlin recalled that he had dispatched several of the Sidhe when he had the altercation with them years ago over Aulfric and Sophia. And he barely used a touch of magic when he sent a Sidhe fairy sprawling for annoyingly flitting around his head when Arthur emerged from the lake. He didn’t trust the Sidhe, but perhaps they weren’t entirely evil, but simply acting out.
As ancient magical beings, the Sidhe had their own peculiar interests and an existence that was very different from the humans they encountered. Merlin supposed that was why they frequently came across as incomprehensible, uncaring, or cruel. They knew nothing of compassion. Perhaps it would eventually benefit everyone in Camelot if they were allowed a place at the Round Table. If they had to negotiate with humans and listen to human opinions and concerns, their ancient magic and the ways of modern men could be brought into closer alignment under Arthur's rule.
In any case, the Sidhe wouldn’t present nearly as big of a problem as the Saxons would.
Surely the Saxons were preparing to strike Camelot any day now with the help of their new allies. Merlin worried about the rulers who Arthur had forged partnerships with over the years. Would they defend the Saxons and lay Camelot to waste, dividing her riches among them? Would they destroy Merlin at first sight, knowing how committed he was to Arthur and how he would stop at nothing to prevent them from claiming Camelot’s spoils. If only there was a way of proving to them that Arthur was still alive, even if it wasn’t entirely true. If they anticipated Arthur’s return, they’d side with Merlin wouldn’t they?
Morforwyn slowly rolled over so he swam right-side up again. He nudged Merlin’s hand, urging him to pet his head.
“You deserve to be with someone who recognizes how amazing you are,” Morforwyn said quietly. “I know this is a hard decision, but I believe in you. I know you can do this—I’m so proud of you.
“Anything,” Merlin said to Adaneth, while petting Morforwyn. “I’ll do anything you ask.”
“Come now,” Adaneth said, gesturing to his fairies. “He has made his decision. It is time for Arthur to return to the lake with us. We’re nearly done with his healing.”
The Sidhe fairies flitted about the lake, swarming toward Arthur and casting him in a brilliant blue light.
“We’ll finish with your king and meet you back here at the same time tomorrow,” Adaneth said, and then he added, “Bring the crown.”
Merlin’s mouth hung open. Surely they didn’t expect him to win over Arthur’s former allies and obtain the crown of the Saxon king in a single day?
“Your allies, Arthur,” Merlin said, taking Arthur’s other cold hand in his and placing Arthur’s arms around his waist. “They think you're dead and they are siding with the Saxons to claim Camelot for their own. How will I stop them?”
“You need to tell them that I’ll return. From what you’ve said, I have no doubt that the Saxon’s attack will be coming soon,” Arthur said, holding Merlin close. “For the love of Camelot, you need to hurry.”
“They’ll never believe me,” Merlin said, his lips whispering against Arthur’s neck. “Not when they can’t see you like I can.”
The assembly of fairies tugged at Arthur, threatening to tear him from Merlin’s arms.
“Then you must convince them,” Arthur said.
“But how will I convince them? They’ll try to kill me as soon as I attempt to steal the Saxon king’s crown,” Merlin said.
Merlin made a mental list of allies that he feared would turn against Arthur’s memory and destroy his legacy. Maybe Annis and Rodor would stay true to Arthur, but Merlin couldn’t bear to think that they might not. Annis only knew Merlin as Arthur’s fool—an entertainer who could amuse his guests in Camelot. She knew nothing of Merlin’s willing devotion to the king. And what of Elena’s father, Godwyn, and Vivian’s father, Olaf? They had nothing to lose by attacking Merlin if he transgressed against the Saxons. And Odin and the Sarrum of Amata… dealings with them were sketchy even when they met directly with Arthur.
“You’ll find a way, Merlin,” Arthur said as the fairies dragged him down.
“Arthur,” Merlin whispered sadly.
“I’ll be waiting here for you,” Arthur said as he strained against the Sidhe’s grip to leave one more kiss on Merlin’s lips.
Merlin held onto Arthur as long as he could until the Sidhe finally won out and dragged him beneath the surface of the water. Beneath the lake, a swirl of blue light followed Arthur deeper and deeper, until he and the Sidhe disappeared in a flicker of light.
After a moment, the lake water calmed again. The water’s glassy surface, quiet and still, only reflected the brightening moon.
“Morforwyn!” Merlin called. He hadn’t seen the manatee since he had agreed with Adaneth’s requests.
There was no answer.
“Morforwyn! Where are you?” Merlin called.
The water remained still in the glimmering moonlight. There was no sign of the manatee anywhere.
Merlin splashed the water with his palms, trying to summon his attention, anything that would make the manatee return. He needed Morforwyn’s encouragement now, more than ever.
Merlin stared into the water where he had last seen Arthur sink into the depths.
There was nothing but blackness now.
Merlin turned toward the shore, but as he did, he caught a glimpse of a tiny glimmer of light deep within the bottomless lake. Perhaps it was the flicker from some Sidhe settlement that lay far beneath the water’s surface. But no, as Merlin watched, although he couldn’t see well through the dark water, the light grew closer. As it swiftly drew near, he realized it was Morforwyn, swimming up to the surface from the bottom of the lake at full speed.
Merlin had to step back to avoid a collision with Morforwyn as the manatee broke the surface of the water. He watched as his entire body breeched high into the air above the lake. Merlin closed his eyes just before he heard the great splash as Morforwyn landed, displacing the water of the lake with waves that crashed against the shore.
“Where have you been?” Merlin asked the manatee, wiping the water from his eyes.
As Morforwyn slowly swam toward him, Merlin noticed the creature had something bright wedged in his mouth.
“What is it?” Merlin asked. He moved closer through the chilly water. Morforwyn carefully carried a tiny glass vial that shone in the dark. Merlin reached for it, took it from Morforwyn, and held it up to the moonlight.
“The amazing thing about the water,” Morforwyn said, “is that you always get what you need.”
Inside the vial, Merlin could see a tiny shard of silver-coloured metal.
“I got it from the Sidhe,” Morforwyn said. “It’s the piece of steel from Mordred’s sword.
“Morforwyn,” Merlin said. “You’re absolutely brilliant.” He sloshed through the water to kiss the manatee on the head.
“It was buried in Arthur’s heart. The Sidhe had removed it from Arthur’s wound a few days ago in hopes that you would help them. I figure you could use it more than they can now,” Morforwyn said.
Merlin looked at the tiny sliver of steel. He wondered how something so small and seemingly insignificant could bring down the whole kingdom that Arthur had built. As damaging as the shard had been to Arthur, Merlin now saw that the shard could help him to fulfil his pledge to the Sidhe.
“I can use this to convince Annis and Rodor that Arthur is still alive,” Merlin said. “And if I can do that, Godwyn and Olaf will believe me. Maybe even the Sarrum of Amata wouldn’t dare cross Camelot’s threshold if he knew that Arthur might very well be returning.”
“You know what you need to do next,” Morforwyn said. “And don’t try telling me that you’re not pretty enough, strong enough, tough enough, smart enough, good enough, or whatever else. You are a great person. You deserve to have everything you want. Now you just need to worry about getting to the Saxons in time.”
“There’s no time to waste,” Merlin said, patting the manatee reassuringly. He next threw his head back and called, “Oh dracan brynewielm me clipunge! Ic nu agnunge hwæt sy rihtgife gyldenwecga æt abeodan!”
Together, Merlin and Morforwyn watched as Aithusa circled through the air and descended to the lake.
~ ~ ~
Author:
gwylliondreamGenre: Canon era
Pairings: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: NC-17
Words: 53,589
Author's notes: Swimming with the Sidhe was written for
paperlegends and as a kinkme_merlin fill for this prompt.Disclaimer: All Arthurian characters are the property of BBC/Shine and their creators. The Calming Manatee and most of its words belong to HT (the Human Typist) of the Calming Manatee meme.
Comments: Comments are welcome anytime! Thanks so much for reading!
The horn sounded loud and clear just as Merlin remembered it had when Arthur summoned Uther back from death. Echoing through the forest, the constant tone of the horn sent the birds alight. The tone wafted from the shore to the treetops as Merlin now summoned his king.
When he felt his lungs empty of breath, Merlin lowered the horn, his chest rising and falling quickly as he panted in the fresh air. He chastised himself for refusing to wait for Morforwyn to appear at the lakeside. Perhaps the manatee would have assured him that it was safe to proceed with the horn’s call. But Merlin’s desire to bring Arthur back, to see his king again, was impossible to put off any longer. His body thrummed with anticipation. With the horn in his possession, Merlin could fulfil the one task at which he would surely succeed. The hope he had for this task’s completion had tormented Merlin intensely over the days he had been separated from Arthur. He couldn’t bear to wait one moment longer.
Not even the appearance of his spirit animal could stop him from calling for Arthur now.
Tonight, the lake looked like a polished mirror of glass. No ripple indicated any action below the surface, either by Arthur or the Sidhe. Not even Morforwyn with his love for the water could be seen disturbing the flat surface of the lake.
All was silent.
Frustrated at the prospect of another imminent failure, Merlin raised the horn to his lips and blew again. Over the past day, he had been able to put aside his guilt over not calling Kilgharrah in time to help Arthur. He travelled through the forest alone, tentatively forgiving himself for what he perceived as a great misstep that cost Arthur his life. But now, the same feeling of guilt began to creep up on him, taking firm hold of his memory. The certainty that he was responsible for Arthur’s death was unbearable. It made Merlin more determined than ever to draw his king from his resting place. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, his cheeks red with the effort, as the horn sounded over the still water. If only Arthur would appear, Merlin swore that he would never make such a mistake again.
Merlin scanned the surface of the lake as the low moan from the horn echoed through the forest. The foggy mist of dusk had descended almost to the water, hiding the tower from view. Darkness was falling fast and Merlin soon would be left alone again on the shore, with his grief as his only companion.
“Arthur,” Merlin called when his lungs emptied of air, his eyes blinking as they watched the water. “Arthur, come back to me… please.”
The silence made Merlin’s heart fill with despair. The horn didn’t work. Merlin groaned in disbelief. The lake remained still with no indication of Arthur being summoned. It was as if everything Merlin had done to get the horn to revive Arthur had been for naught.
Still clutching the horn, Merlin fell back onto his arse and sat on the muddy shore, tears welling in his eyes again for the loss of his beloved king. He looked to the sky and screamed at the top of his lungs. There were no words, only an incoherent flurry of syllables now that there was no dragon to call and no hope left in Merlin’s heart. His wailing only made his head ache worse.
Merlin didn’t notice the wake that the manatee’s path left in the water until Morforwyn flopped onto the shore beside him.
“Merlin, I'm so happy to see you!” Morforwyn shouted, the splash of water soaking Merlin’s clothes as the manatee beached himself.
Merlin shuddered under the unexpected onslaught of water. He was surprised to see the look of glee on Morforwyn’s whiskered face.
“What is it?” Merlin asked through his anguish. He didn’t know whether to lament the horn’s failure or to wonder what the manatee could possibly have to say to him now that he had failed to summon Arthur with the horn.
“You just need to wait a tiny bit longer and you’ll see,” Morforwyn said, resting his flipper on Merlin's lap. “I know things are tough for you right now, but it will get better real soon. We just need to take things one step at a time. Everything is going to turn out great. You just need to be a little more patient.”
“Patient? For what?” Merlin asked with a sob. “I’m a failure!”
“Hey there, please don't say such mean things about yourself. That's my favourite person you're talking about. Just watch, and see,” Morforwyn said gently as he turned his face to the water.
Merlin couldn’t understand why the creature gazed back toward the lake. Nothing disturbed the surface, although Merlin could barely see through his teary eyes.
“I don’t see anything,” Merlin said, scanning the lake.
“You should have waited longer, but I think they’ll show themselves anyway,” Morforwyn said. “At least, I hope they will. Just watch.”
Merlin moved Morforwyn’s flipper aside and got to his feet to have a better look at the water. The fog swirled close to the lake and the hazy sun had already dipped well below the horizon.
“What is it, Morforwyn?” Merlin asked, getting agitated. Why would the manatee insist that he look at the lake when there was nothing there to see? “The horn didn’t work, or Arthur would be here by now. That’s how it happened with Uther. He came right after Arthur called him, walked right up to him as if he were waiting to be summoned.”
“Enough about Uther! He doesn’t matter now. Remember what I told you about the water, Merlin,” Morforwyn said, his voice calm and reassuring.
Merlin thought about the water and what Morforwyn had told him when they first met. He turned the horn over in his hand, rolling the thin mouthpiece between his fingers.
“The amazing thing about the water is that you always get what you need?” Merlin asked.
“That’s right, Merlin. And it’s so very true. You just have to believe that you deserve the things you need,” Morforwyn said.
“But I’ve failed.” Merlin sobbed. “I failed to keep Mordred from Arthur. I failed to get Arthur to the lake in time, and now I’ve failed to summon him with the Horn of Cathbhadh. I don’t deserve anything.”
“Oh, but you do, Merlin,” Morforwyn said. “You’re not a failure to me. I love you so much. You’re smart, and you’re pretty. Everyone deserves something as simple as happiness—even you.”
Merlin sniffled. He didn’t mind the manatee telling him how smart and pretty he was, even if he didn’t believe that others saw him that way. But deserving of happiness? “No, I don’t think I’ve ever done anything to deserve being happy,” he said.
“Of course you have,” Morforwyn said. “You just need to believe in yourself as much as I believe in you. Then you’ll find your true happiness.”
“But I don’t think anything will make me believe in myself,” Merlin said. “There’s no reason to anymore.”
“Think, Merlin,” the manatee said, “what would make you happiest? What is it that you really want? The one thing you’ve wanted for your whole life.”
“To protect Arthur,” Merlin said sadly. He lowered his head, taking his eyes off the water.
“Yes, you’ve always wanted to protect Arthur, but that’s not all. That’s just what you’ve been telling yourself for all these years. It’s the idea that the dragon Kilgharrah put into your head,” Morforwyn said with frustration. “What is it that you want, Merlin, something that’s just for you alone, deep down. Think. What will bring you the greatest joy?”
Merlin thought hard about what would make him happiest, but he could only come up with Arthur’s return to Camelot.
“Think about yourself, Merlin,” the manatee said. “Only what matters to you. Don’t worry about what anyone else wants.”
Of course that made Merlin think of the other people in his life more strongly than ever. He thought about Gwen, how even though Arthur was dead, she had found happiness with Leon. He shook his head when he remembered Arthur promising himself to her. Merlin was so happy for his king, but now after he learned that Gwen could move on so easily… it hurt Merlin to think of how sad Arthur would be if he knew….
“Your happiness, Merlin,” Morforwyn kept rambling. “What is the source of your greatest joy? And please don't tell me that you are not pretty enough, strong enough, tough enough, smart enough, good enough or whatever else. You are a great person. You deserve to have everything you want.”
Merlin tried hard to think of what brought him the greatest joy, but everything centred on his beloved king whose body he had set adrift in a wooden boat, hoping that the Sidhe would heal him in this very same lake.
“What brings you the most happiness?” Morforwyn asked, his voice patient and calming.
And then Merlin remembered.
He first acknowledged it when he had run to the lake with the Horn of Cathbhadh in his hand.
Arthur!
But not to be with Arthur as the king he must protect from harm, but to be with Arthur again and free from the secret of his magic. And not for two pitiful days while he tried to save Arthur’s life—but for always. To live a life with Arthur healthy and whole, their affection for each other intact.
It was Arthur who brought Merlin his greatest joy—and not because Merlin was charged to protect him from his enemies. It was an idea that thrived on its own merit. To have Arthur by his side again with none of the secrets that had burdened Merlin since the day he had first met the prattish prince. Life with Arthur whose teasing words called him an idiot, but always made him smile. Arthur who would lay down his own life if it meant sparing Merlin from suffering any pain. Arthur, who Merlin ached to hold in his arms, the secret of his magic no longer an issue, and the secret of his love no longer pushed to the dim corners of his heart.
“Arthur,” Merlin said. “I love Arthur.” A hiccup of laughter escaped from Merlin’s chest. He had never felt so free as he did when he could give voice to that which brought him his greatest joy.
“The amazing thing about the water is that you always get what you need,” Morforwyn said as calmly as ever. “The water, Merlin, it will make you feel so free. It’s a lot like love.”
“I need to go into the water?” Merlin asked.
Morforwyn nodded toward the lake. “It couldn’t hurt,” he said.
Merlin set the horn down and quickly tugged off his boots and socks, throwing them onto the shore in a heap. Without hesitation he picked up the horn and stepped into the lake, the muddy bottom squishing between his toes. Thinking better of it, he stripped off his jacket and tossed it to the shore as well. He waded a few steps forward and stopped.
“Are you coming?” he asked Morforwyn.
“Gladly,” Morforwyn said as he pushed himself off the shore with his powerful tail.
Merlin waded a few steps further, the water rising over his knees. He didn't care that his only breeches got wet. Wiping away the last traces of his tears, he watched the water, hoping that Morforwyn’s proclamation meant good news. He sensed the manatee’s body swimming nearby, gracefully weaving circles around him where he stood.
And then, just when Merlin thought he might need to blow the horn again just for good measure, he saw it.
A glimmer of light rose to the surface of the lake. First one, then two, and Merlin wondered if it was a trick of the rising moon or if his eyes deceived him. Then three, then four, five, then an explosion of lights made their way from the depths to where the water met the air.
Morforwyn swam beside Merlin and startled him when he raised his head above the water, despite his calming presence at Merlin’s side beneath the lake.
“Are they what I think they are?” Merlin asked, gathering himself.
“They are the Sidhe,” Morforwyn said, “they’re here, just like you wished they would be.”
Merlin breathed quickly, filled with new hope. His magic swirled through him, threatening to escape from his fingertips if he were brave enough to let it challenge the Sidhe.
“Arthur?” Merlin asked. “Can they heal Arthur?”
“Let's see what they have to say,” Morforwyn said. “It’s a bit complicated.”
But there was no time for Merlin to ask what the Sidhe had planned. Their tiny wings broke the surface of the water, sending droplets into a whirlwind of rain that dotted the lake with circles of wavelets. Merlin raised a hand to shield his eyes from the spray, the horn gripped tightly in the other. When the Sidhe’s barrage stopped, Merlin could see clearly again. In the centre of the lake, not ten yards from where Merlin stood with the water soaking his breeches and darkening the hem of his tunic, a head of wet golden hair broke the surface of the water.
At first Merlin couldn’t believe his eyes. But there was no mistaking the familiar way Arthur’s lips spat a spray of water to clear his mouth. He rose from the lake’s depths, gaining a footing, the droplets cascading from the hair plastered dark against his forehead as he emerged.
“Arthur?” Merlin gasped. Fresh tears clung to his eyelashes as he strode forward, his legs heavy in the deepening water.
A small laugh of disbelief sputtered from Arthur’s mouth. His lips had gone blue from the cold and Merlin wished he had a cloak to wrap around him. He supposed his jacket would have to suffice when they reached the shore. Above the water, the fairylight from the Sidhe illuminated Arthur’s naked shoulders where they rose from the water of the silvery lake.
The tiny Sidhe spirits darted about in the chilly air, making Merlin want to bat them away when they flitted in front of his eyes, blocking his view of Arthur arisen.
“Watch out,” Morforwyn said as a bright green Sidhe with glowing wings descended swiftly through the air to take a swipe at Merlin’s head.
Merlin turned just in time to deflect the Sidhe’s attack with a strand of magic unleashed from his fingertips. He sent the spirit spinning across the lake before the fairy could regain control of his flight.
“I warned you that they don’t always behave like you want them to,” Morforwyn said with a sigh.
Merlin remembered that Morforwyn had told him that the Sidhe liked to be entertained. He supposed that’s why they kept flitting around his head, threatening to disrupt his reunion with Arthur. Merlin was happy for the diversion when Morforwyn dove beneath the surface. The Sidhe followed him, the faint glow of their fairy bodies trailing after Morforwyn as he swam into deeper water.
Merlin felt like he could finally breathe again.
“Merlin,” Arthur said, his voice fond. “I had a feeling you’d come back for me.”
“Arthur?” Merlin said, the sound of his name rolling off his lips like a prayer.
“I’m relieved to know that you’re not nearly as useless as you led me to believe,” Arthur said, “especially under these circumstances.”
Merlin stopped where he stood, the water surging over his thin leather belt. He was overcome with the urge to rush toward Arthur, to embrace him and never let him go. But he had to be sure that this was really Arthur. There was something unfamiliar about the man that made him hesitate. It worried him enough to stop moving through the water toward him. Struggling for what to do next, Merlin remained frozen in place. He wanted to be sure that this was Arthur and that no harm would come to either of them, as it had when the Horn of Cathbhadh had been used to summon Uther.
“Of course I came back for you, you miserable prat,” Merlin said with a tiny laugh, thinking of no better way to let Arthur know how much he missed him than to resume their gentle banter.
Arthur smiled and watched Merlin with the same heated affection that he always did.
“Arthur, is it really you?” Merlin asked unsteadily. More than anything now, he worried that Arthur would suffer the same effect that the horn had rent on Uther. He couldn’t bear it if Arthur began to hurl insults at him, ungrateful for all that he had done to bring them to this point. He looked for Morforwyn in hopes of getting some reassurance, but the manatee lumbered through the deep water, followed by the playful Sidhe.
“Merlin, look at me. I can tell you’re scared. I promise I won’t hurt you,” Arthur said.
Arthur had undoubtedly remembered the trauma he suffered when he summoned Uther. He had hoped that his father would be proud of him, but instead he received only discouragement. Merlin nodded, accepting Arthur’s promise. He knew Arthur would never hurt him.
“Arthur, it worked,” Merlin said, holding the horn in his outstretched hand. “And you're really here. I used the horn to summon you.”
Merlin bit his lip in worry, hoping that Arthur wouldn’t be angry at him for bringing him back from the dead. He watched the way Arthur moved as he stepped toward him, his shoulders bare and glistening in the fairylight as the Sidhe and Morforwyn slowly dove and breached around them. He wanted to go nearer to Arthur, to hold him, to caress his face, his brow, his hair.
“I’m sorry, Merlin. I thought you realized. The horn didn’t work,” Arthur said resolutely. “The manatee was supposed to tell you, but I see he is occupied.”
Arthur turned around to look for Morforwyn who frolicked in the waves with the Sidhe. They swam in circles around Arthur and Merlin as they stood in the middle of the lake.
It was then that Merlin noticed what was different about Arthur. His skin had taken on the shimmer of the fairylight. It gleamed as if Arthur was a solid form, but upon closer inspection, his skin became transparent. Merlin could see through his body to watch the Sidhe’s lights when they chased Morforwyn into the distance. Arthur was right. The horn didn’t work. Arthur was still dead. Merlin could see right through him.
“I’m so sorry, Arthur,” Merlin said. “I thought the horn worked. I’m so sorry I failed you again.”
Merlin couldn’t bear the pain of disappointing Arthur a second time. He shrank away, stepping backward as the mud worked its way between his toes. His one true purpose that had been his goal since he came to Camelot from Ealdor had been rendered unsuccessful again.
He buried his face in his hands, dropping the useless horn into the water.
For Merlin, it was as if he had suffered Arthur’s death a second time. This time was more painful than the first because of his dashed hopes. Again, Merlin mourned for the people who had lost their lives so that Arthur could bring peace and security and the acceptance of magic to the realm. Friends and fellow magic users, they deserved better than this. Merlin felt as responsible for their loss as he did for Arthur’s death. If only he had stopped Mordred at Camlann, instead of listening to Arthur’s plea for reinforcements. Now, the Camelot he knew would die with Arthur, just as he had feared.
All his work, all his hopes, it had all been for nothing.
And love?
Now Merlin had lost any chance for winning Arthur’s love. The freedom that he dreamed about, the one sacred joy that he had confessed to Morforwyn, it was lost forever now. How could this wreck of his life ever be made right? He may as well sink to the depths and breathe the water into his lungs, forgetting that anyone ever believed he was the greatest sorcerer to walk the earth.
“Merlin,” Arthur said, “don’t be such an idiot.”
Arthur swiftly closed the distance between them and took Merlin in his arms, stopping him from moving backwards. The water swirled around them. He pulled Merlin close, nudging his head into the crook of his neck.
Merlin collapsed in a fit of sobbing, his hands clutching Arthur’s wet shoulders that felt real, despite the transparency of his flesh. He tried to speak, but his mouth was pressed against the cool skin of Arthur’s chest. Breathing in Arthur’s familiar scent, Merlin was grateful for the reminder of how it felt to be close to him, even if he would never live again.
“Shhh,” Arthur said, stroking Merlin’s hair, his voice a comfort in Merlin’s ears despite the failure of the horn. “You didn’t fail me. You never have.”
“I tried so hard,” Merlin finally managed, “how could it not have worked?”
“The horn?” Arthur asked, pulling away from Merlin, but keeping one arm wrapped around his waist while he snatched the horn from where it floated in the water.
“It was supposed to bring you back from the dead,” Merlin said, daring to make eye contact with Arthur for the first time since he recognized something was amiss.
Arthur shook his head slowly. “This is simply a trinket from an old woman, given to us in appreciation from when we saved her. I doubt she knew its true power or what it might do when I summoned my father,” Arthur said.
“But I used it to summon you,” Merlin said,
“No, it’s just an old relic of the magical age. I wouldn’t put my trust in such an object, not after how my father reacted when we summoned him,” Arthur said shaking his head with disdain.
“No?” Merlin asked, worry crossing his mind.
“Don’t be such a girl, Merlin,” Arthur said, taking in Merlin’s frown.
Merlin scowled at being called a girl. At least some things never changed. Merlin pushed his hands against Arthur's bare chest in protest.
Arthur seemed to know that he had amused Merlin and he began to pull him in for another embrace. As he did so, he circled his fingers around Merlin's wrist.
Merlin couldn't help but wince.
“You're hurt,” Arthur said, holding Merlin’s wrist up to the moonlight and examining the bruises that marked Merlin's pale skin.
Merlin debated with himself momentarily over whether to tell Arthur how he got the bruises.
“I had a slight problem with Gwen and she had the guards throw me in the dungeon,” Merlin said. “She's a bit angry about my magic,” he added.
“Well, that's to be expected,” Arthur said, gently brushing his thumb over a dark bruise. “Not everyone will be as impressed with it as I was.”
Merlin snorted. “And… she thinks I let you die,” Merlin said, unsure of how many details of Gwen's reign he should share.
Arthur shook his head. “I'm sure she was upset, but I left her in charge. Gaius must have given her my seal. Everything was just as she always wanted, and Leon—”
“Leon released me from the dungeon so I could come to you,” Merlin said with a nod.
“He's a good man,” Arthur said. “He and Gwen... they deserve some happiness together.”
“You knew?” Merlin asked. He couldn’t bear the thought of Arthur being hurt by Gwen’s attraction to Leon. It wouldn’t be the first time Arthur had lost Gwen’s heart to another man. He watched Morforwyn’s slow rise and fall beneath the water, the Sidhe trailing behind him in a slow parade.
“I was the king, Merlin,” Arthur said, releasing Merlin’s wrist. “There's very little I didn't know.”
“Well, you didn't know about my magic,” Merlin said with a small laugh, but then he grew serious and said, “I'm sorry I kept it a secret for so long. You trusted me and I let you down.”
Arthur let the Horn of Cathbhadh slip from his hand. He cupped Merlin’s chin in his hand and stroked his thumb across Merlin’s cheek in reassurance. “My distrust of the horn doesn’t affect how much I trust you. You came back for me, after all. We just need to figure out a way to make this right.”
Merlin shivered at Arthur's touch. “You're so cold,” he said, touching his fingers to the back of Arthur’s hand. His touch seemed to warm Arthur’s skin. He could sense Arthur’s heart beating in his chest, but when he chanced a glimpse of his body, it was as he feared. He could see straight through what should have been Arthur’s solid form, lean and muscular, strong and fit. Instead, he watched Morforwyn and the lights of the Sidhe as they swam among the waves as if Arthur wasn't there to block his view at all.
Arthur seemed to notice that Merlin was distracted by the Sidhe. “Warm me up,” Arthur said, pulling Merlin back into his embrace, his lips whispering against Merlin's neck. “Lucky I recognized you without that foolish neckerchief.”
Merlin moaned when he felt Arthur's hands move to the small of his back. They seemed to warm even as they came into contact with the thin fabric of his tunic. He managed a small smile, grateful that he could provide Arthur with some warmth from the cold. His hands roamed over Arthur's naked arms, working their heat into his skin.
“I didn’t have time to get properly cleaned up,” Merlin said.
Arthur's fingers stroked Merlin's back, working their way upward until his fingers were tangled in Merlin's hair. A spark of arousal uncurled in Merlin's belly, making him feel warmer still, despite the cold water that lapped at his waist. The knot on his head could be ignored in favour of Arthur’s affectionate touch. Arthur let the fingers of one hand play over Merlin's ear before slipping their way down Merlin's cheek to his chin. When Merlin let his gaze drift from the lake to Arthur's eyes, he saw Arthur watching him with more intensity than Merlin had ever seen him demonstrate before, except perhaps in battle.
“If we escape this mess,” Arthur said, before correcting himself with a tiny shake of his head, “when we escape this, I promise I’ll never leave you again.”
Merlin felt like his heart stopped. Before he could think of something coherent to say, he watched Arthur’s face draw closer until he brushed his lips against Merlin’s.
“Arthur?” Merlin whispered, drawing back.
But Arthur didn't answer with words. Instead, he pressed forward, stopping Merlin from speaking with a flick of his tongue against Merlin's lips, beckoning for entrance. Merlin happily obliged. He gave his mouth over to Arthur. He could always make the excuse that he was trying to warm Arthur, if Arthur decided later that it was a mistake.
Merlin melted into the kiss, letting his arms float to Arthur’s back, his shoulders, his hair. For so long, he had felt undeserving of Arthur’s love. After all, he had convinced himself that he was responsible for Arthur’s death, yet here he was with Arthur in some state of half-living, half-dead, kissing him in the middle of a lake.
Arthur's lips felt as wonderful as he had always imagined against his. Merlin quietly doubted himself, wondering what he had ever done that was so great that he should have his every unspoken desire fulfilled. He was just a simple farm boy from Ealdor with a big secret. Surely he didn't deserve the love of a king. But the delicious press of Arthur’s cold meeting his warmth proved otherwise. Arthur's mouth on his was enough to make him forget his failures and his misery for a little while. Having the comfort of the calming manatee to guide him made things even easier still.
Ever since he came to Camelot, Merlin’s goal had always been to ensure that Arthur became the great leader he was destined to be—the ruler of Camelot and the king who would unify all of Albion. But Merlin had been so obsessed with saving Arthur from every threat, all the while hiding his magic so he himself wasn't caught and killed, that he barely noticed he had fallen in love. It took the discovery of Kilgharrah's lies for Merlin to put aside his goal of ensuring Arthur became a great king. Just as it took the friendship of a calming manatee to make him believe in himself, to love himself, and to fulfil his own destiny with Arthur, even if it was only to share this one kiss.
If historians looked back at a great kingdom that flourished because Merlin saved Arthur so many times, so be it.
But if there was never a great kingdom to come… if they both lived here at the lake, Arthur in the water that somehow seemed to keep him nearly alive and Merlin on the nearby land, it would be better than for Merlin never to have kissed Arthur at all.
If there was any doubt whether Arthur felt the same way, Merlin had his answer when he tilted his head back and saw the love in Arthur's eyes. There was no need for rationalizations or excuses. Arthur had intended to kiss him and he was happy to kiss him again.
Merlin wove his fingers through Arthur’s wet hair and pulled him in for another kiss. Arthur wore a half-smile and eagerly went along, following Merlin’s lips with his eyes before Merlin swept his lips over Arthur’s mouth again. Merlin’s eyes drifted shut as he urged himself to avoid questioning why they had never done this before. They were kissing now, and that was the only thing that mattered.
The silence was broken by the sound of a manatee clearing his throat.
“Hey, you two,” Morforwyn called as he swam alongside Arthur. “I just know that you are going to do incredible things together, but have you forgotten that you have some unfinished business here?”
Arthur sucked gently on Merlin's lower lip before turning his attention to the manatee. “I haven't forgotten,” he said, brushing Merlin's nose with his own.
“It's been a lot of fun distracting the Sidhe so you could hug and kiss,” Morforwyn said, nudging Arthur with a flipper so he backed away from Merlin. “But have you told Merlin about your plan to get free from here?”
Behind the manatee, an assembly of Sidhe had gathered, their lights illuminating the surface of the lake so that it was nearly as bright as day. Their leader, who Merlin knew as the fearsome Adaneth, floated regally above the lake, an entourage of tiny fairies bowed in mid-air at his feet.
“I haven't had a chance yet,” Arthur said, casting a suspicious glance at Adaneth. He rubbed a hand over Morforwyn's snout as the manatee stretched his head above the water.
“Well, I'll leave that to you. Merlin did a great job today,” Morforwyn said, turning to face Merlin as Arthur continued rub his face. “I am so proud of you.”
“But I haven't done anything. The horn didn't work.” He glanced from where the horn floated uselessly in the water, then back to Arthur for assurance that he had told him the truth about the horn. “Arthur is still dead.”
Arthur stepped closer to Merlin, ignoring the manatee. He laid his hands on Merlin's shoulders and said, “There's something I must ask of you.”
“You may as well tell him,” Adaneth interrupted, his teeth glowing with a greenish hue. “The reason why Arthur couldn’t be revived by the Horn of Cathbhadh should be obvious—he was never dead.”
Merlin was confused. He backed away from Arthur, fearing what he had become. “But he was dead when I set him adrift in the wooden boat,” Merlin said to Adaneth. “I'm quite sure of it. I was looking to you for help in healing him when he died.”
“I'm sorry, Merlin,” Arthur said, lowering his hands to the water. “You were so strong throughout the ordeal. We almost made it to the lake in time.”
Merlin felt as though his heart would break if he were to discover that Arthur's appearance had simply been an illusion, a trick played on him by the angry Sidhe. “Is there no chance of bringing you back then? What are you?” Merlin asked, devastated.
“Calm yourself, Merlin,” Morforwyn said, swimming behind Merlin so he couldn’t back further away from Arthur. “The Sidhe are almost finished healing Arthur, but they need your help.”
“And why should I help them?” Merlin asked. “They only want to ruin things and they've wanted to command Arthur and guide his decisions for years now. We’ve always been able to hold them off.”
Adaneth looked smug as he watched Merlin in distress. One more sneer and Merlin wouldn’t hesitate to unleash the fury of his magic against him. Fortunately Arthur’s confident voice brought his spirit back to calmness.
“As I died, you begged me to stay with you,” Arthur said gently. “You remember? It was enough... the thought of leaving you was enough to keep me from dying completely, despite my mortal injury. The Sidhe saw an opportunity and they began to heal me, but they want something in return before they finish the job.”
Merlin examined the wound left by the sword in Arthur’s side. The flesh was stained with shades of purple bruising and an angry red seam from where Mordred's sword had plunged home. Merlin let his fingers trace over the wound, gauging whether he dared to try healing Arthur with his magic. His eyes flashed gold as he assessed the damage, but it wasn't clear to him whether his magic would be enough to reverse the injury caused by the magical blade. He supposed he'd have to trust Gaius's word that only the Sidhe could heal Arthur. As much as he wanted Arthur to be healed, he'd only try to use his magic if there were no other choice.
If the Sidhe could heal Arthur, he could return to Camelot with Merlin. If the Sidhe's powers worked in Arthur's favour, there needn't be only one kiss shared between Merlin and his king. The love he had for Arthur overwhelmed him and made his decision a simple one. Merlin's fingers drifted from Arthur's ribs to his chest, to his neck.
He slid his thumb over Arthur's lips.
“If they can restore you to life, there's nothing I won't do,” Merlin said.
Arthur grasped Merlin's hand and pressed a kiss to his palm. “There's a way that they’ll agree to do it,” he said. “But only if you're sure.”
“It's not my decision alone,” Merlin said. “You need to want this too.”
“I wanted to be certain of your feelings before I agreed to the Sidhe's request. If they are to heal me, there can be no room for doubt. I don't want to return to a world where you….” Arthur seemed to struggle to find the words.
It pained Merlin to see Arthur with a furrowed brow and his fingers gripping Merlin’s hand for dear life.
“I don’t want to return to a world where you didn't love me,” Arthur finally managed.
Merlin turned his palm so that both he and Arthur’s fingers wove together. There was no doubt that this was what Merlin desired above anything he had ever wished for in his life. “I'll do it. I'll do whatever they want,” he said.
“The Sidhe want a place at the Round Table,” Arthur said.
Merlin cringed, but caught himself before he could spout off about how improper their request was—they were Sidhe, for gods' sakes. They didn’t deserve a place in Arthur’s court. The feel of Morforwyn’s weight against the back of his knees grounded him. He was sorry for the loss when the manatee swam toward Adaneth and his fairy companions.
“If they heal me,” Arthur said, “they want an equal voice with the other kingdoms of the realm with whom we have worked to build alliances. I promised them a place at the Round Table in Camelot and they agreed, under one further condition.”
Merlin couldn’t imagine what more the Sidhe could want. “If you think it is the right thing to do, I’ll go along with you,” Merlin said, silently hoping that the Sidhe’s conditions wouldn’t be too difficult to fulfil.
“They want the crown of Cerdic, the Saxon king,” Arthur said, his fingers tightening against Merlin’s. “When they have it, they will have an equal voice among the leaders of the other kingdoms with whom we share alliances.”
Merlin listened and nodded. He tried to imagine the best case scenario. Perhaps he could locate the Saxon camp and snatch the crown from Cerdic’s head while he slept. That would work, but only if Cerdic’s new allies didn’t catch him and disembowel him first.
“We’ve been decimated by the Saxons in years past,” Adaneth said. “They’ve stolen many riches from us, including the crown that they use to adorn their leader. If you restore the crown to its rightful Sidhe owners, we will repay you by healing your king. We look forward to joining him n Camelot as he unites the kingdoms of the realm to work toward common goals.”
Merlin shuddered to think of the Sidhe working in unison with Arthur’s court. They always seemed to have their hand in hand in mischief. Would Arthur be able to guide their decisions? What if they refused to cooperate for the good of all?
“The decision is yours,” Arthur said. “If you feel you can't do it, I’ll understand. I know it’s a lot to ask of you, but I can’t do it myself. I’m trapped here.”
“You should choose the option that makes you happiest,” Morforwyn said, basking with his belly to the sky.
Merlin thought hard. He was fairly certain that Arthur could contain the Sidhe’s ways with his strong leadership. Failing that, Merlin recalled that he had dispatched several of the Sidhe when he had the altercation with them years ago over Aulfric and Sophia. And he barely used a touch of magic when he sent a Sidhe fairy sprawling for annoyingly flitting around his head when Arthur emerged from the lake. He didn’t trust the Sidhe, but perhaps they weren’t entirely evil, but simply acting out.
As ancient magical beings, the Sidhe had their own peculiar interests and an existence that was very different from the humans they encountered. Merlin supposed that was why they frequently came across as incomprehensible, uncaring, or cruel. They knew nothing of compassion. Perhaps it would eventually benefit everyone in Camelot if they were allowed a place at the Round Table. If they had to negotiate with humans and listen to human opinions and concerns, their ancient magic and the ways of modern men could be brought into closer alignment under Arthur's rule.
In any case, the Sidhe wouldn’t present nearly as big of a problem as the Saxons would.
Surely the Saxons were preparing to strike Camelot any day now with the help of their new allies. Merlin worried about the rulers who Arthur had forged partnerships with over the years. Would they defend the Saxons and lay Camelot to waste, dividing her riches among them? Would they destroy Merlin at first sight, knowing how committed he was to Arthur and how he would stop at nothing to prevent them from claiming Camelot’s spoils. If only there was a way of proving to them that Arthur was still alive, even if it wasn’t entirely true. If they anticipated Arthur’s return, they’d side with Merlin wouldn’t they?
Morforwyn slowly rolled over so he swam right-side up again. He nudged Merlin’s hand, urging him to pet his head.
“You deserve to be with someone who recognizes how amazing you are,” Morforwyn said quietly. “I know this is a hard decision, but I believe in you. I know you can do this—I’m so proud of you.
“Anything,” Merlin said to Adaneth, while petting Morforwyn. “I’ll do anything you ask.”
“Come now,” Adaneth said, gesturing to his fairies. “He has made his decision. It is time for Arthur to return to the lake with us. We’re nearly done with his healing.”
The Sidhe fairies flitted about the lake, swarming toward Arthur and casting him in a brilliant blue light.
“We’ll finish with your king and meet you back here at the same time tomorrow,” Adaneth said, and then he added, “Bring the crown.”
Merlin’s mouth hung open. Surely they didn’t expect him to win over Arthur’s former allies and obtain the crown of the Saxon king in a single day?
“Your allies, Arthur,” Merlin said, taking Arthur’s other cold hand in his and placing Arthur’s arms around his waist. “They think you're dead and they are siding with the Saxons to claim Camelot for their own. How will I stop them?”
“You need to tell them that I’ll return. From what you’ve said, I have no doubt that the Saxon’s attack will be coming soon,” Arthur said, holding Merlin close. “For the love of Camelot, you need to hurry.”
“They’ll never believe me,” Merlin said, his lips whispering against Arthur’s neck. “Not when they can’t see you like I can.”
The assembly of fairies tugged at Arthur, threatening to tear him from Merlin’s arms.
“Then you must convince them,” Arthur said.
“But how will I convince them? They’ll try to kill me as soon as I attempt to steal the Saxon king’s crown,” Merlin said.
Merlin made a mental list of allies that he feared would turn against Arthur’s memory and destroy his legacy. Maybe Annis and Rodor would stay true to Arthur, but Merlin couldn’t bear to think that they might not. Annis only knew Merlin as Arthur’s fool—an entertainer who could amuse his guests in Camelot. She knew nothing of Merlin’s willing devotion to the king. And what of Elena’s father, Godwyn, and Vivian’s father, Olaf? They had nothing to lose by attacking Merlin if he transgressed against the Saxons. And Odin and the Sarrum of Amata… dealings with them were sketchy even when they met directly with Arthur.
“You’ll find a way, Merlin,” Arthur said as the fairies dragged him down.
“Arthur,” Merlin whispered sadly.
“I’ll be waiting here for you,” Arthur said as he strained against the Sidhe’s grip to leave one more kiss on Merlin’s lips.
Merlin held onto Arthur as long as he could until the Sidhe finally won out and dragged him beneath the surface of the water. Beneath the lake, a swirl of blue light followed Arthur deeper and deeper, until he and the Sidhe disappeared in a flicker of light.
After a moment, the lake water calmed again. The water’s glassy surface, quiet and still, only reflected the brightening moon.
“Morforwyn!” Merlin called. He hadn’t seen the manatee since he had agreed with Adaneth’s requests.
There was no answer.
“Morforwyn! Where are you?” Merlin called.
The water remained still in the glimmering moonlight. There was no sign of the manatee anywhere.
Merlin splashed the water with his palms, trying to summon his attention, anything that would make the manatee return. He needed Morforwyn’s encouragement now, more than ever.
Merlin stared into the water where he had last seen Arthur sink into the depths.
There was nothing but blackness now.
Merlin turned toward the shore, but as he did, he caught a glimpse of a tiny glimmer of light deep within the bottomless lake. Perhaps it was the flicker from some Sidhe settlement that lay far beneath the water’s surface. But no, as Merlin watched, although he couldn’t see well through the dark water, the light grew closer. As it swiftly drew near, he realized it was Morforwyn, swimming up to the surface from the bottom of the lake at full speed.
Merlin had to step back to avoid a collision with Morforwyn as the manatee broke the surface of the water. He watched as his entire body breeched high into the air above the lake. Merlin closed his eyes just before he heard the great splash as Morforwyn landed, displacing the water of the lake with waves that crashed against the shore.
“Where have you been?” Merlin asked the manatee, wiping the water from his eyes.
As Morforwyn slowly swam toward him, Merlin noticed the creature had something bright wedged in his mouth.
“What is it?” Merlin asked. He moved closer through the chilly water. Morforwyn carefully carried a tiny glass vial that shone in the dark. Merlin reached for it, took it from Morforwyn, and held it up to the moonlight.
“The amazing thing about the water,” Morforwyn said, “is that you always get what you need.”
Inside the vial, Merlin could see a tiny shard of silver-coloured metal.
“I got it from the Sidhe,” Morforwyn said. “It’s the piece of steel from Mordred’s sword.
“Morforwyn,” Merlin said. “You’re absolutely brilliant.” He sloshed through the water to kiss the manatee on the head.
“It was buried in Arthur’s heart. The Sidhe had removed it from Arthur’s wound a few days ago in hopes that you would help them. I figure you could use it more than they can now,” Morforwyn said.
Merlin looked at the tiny sliver of steel. He wondered how something so small and seemingly insignificant could bring down the whole kingdom that Arthur had built. As damaging as the shard had been to Arthur, Merlin now saw that the shard could help him to fulfil his pledge to the Sidhe.
“I can use this to convince Annis and Rodor that Arthur is still alive,” Merlin said. “And if I can do that, Godwyn and Olaf will believe me. Maybe even the Sarrum of Amata wouldn’t dare cross Camelot’s threshold if he knew that Arthur might very well be returning.”
“You know what you need to do next,” Morforwyn said. “And don’t try telling me that you’re not pretty enough, strong enough, tough enough, smart enough, good enough, or whatever else. You are a great person. You deserve to have everything you want. Now you just need to worry about getting to the Saxons in time.”
“There’s no time to waste,” Merlin said, patting the manatee reassuringly. He next threw his head back and called, “Oh dracan brynewielm me clipunge! Ic nu agnunge hwæt sy rihtgife gyldenwecga æt abeodan!”
Together, Merlin and Morforwyn watched as Aithusa circled through the air and descended to the lake.
