Camelot Enterprise

by GR Griffin

  He wasn’t really working anymore, he was living.

  Morgana prodded him with her finger, keeping up with his agitated walk.

  “We can’t talk here.” He hissed back in response, fearful somebody may be listening to them.

  Confusion swathed Morgana’s face when they reached the air dock. The area was littered with military planes, helicopters and aircraft. Arthur established that several of them had guns and artillery added to them. To say this made him feel uneasy would have been an understatement. Luckily, a crew was already flying out towards Dresdentian today, meaning little attention or surveillance was focused on the dock itself. Arthur was fully aware that you needed permission from Pendragon to take out a Helicopter. But, Arthur was technically a Pendragon, so signing it out himself wouldn’t be a problem right? Wrong. He knew this would be a problem, but what else could he do? Léohte would die if they didn’t help her. Merlin would be devastated, forever blaming himself for the demise of his Wyvern, when it wasn’t his fault at all.

  “What are you doing Arthur?” Morgana sighed, unable to hide the curiosity lingering in her tone, breaking him from his thoughts.

  “We,” Arthur turned to Leon, eager to see his expression. “We’re off to save a Wyvern, fly it to the West Coast and meet the Saerion clan.”

  At the prospect of discovery and research, meeting the druids, Leon leapt without question into the Helicopter Arthur had reached.

  “Arthur you could get into a lot of trouble for this,” Morgana said severely, grabbing him by his shirt. She scowled harder when Arthur rolled his eyes. “I’m being serious Arthur. You don’t think that your own father hasn’t noticed you haven’t been here for at least two weeks? And now you’re going to take a helicopter out to save a magical creature. If Uther finds out you could be reassigned or worse-”

  “-He’s not going to find out Morgana, because you’re going to cover for me,” Arthur snapped petulantly, they didn’t have time to waste. “and it’s not any old magical creature, it’s Merlin’s. Merlin needs our help,” Arthur watched the comprehension flicker in her mind. “He helped you once before, despite knowing if he was caught the consequences would be severe.”

  Nodding in agreement with these words, Morgana climbed up reluctantly, ensuring that nobody was intently watching them. Arthur buckled himself in, sparing a soft smile for Morgana. It was obvious she was troubled. The last time she’d seen Merlin it had been about her nightmares. The nightmares she now believed were nothing but a manifestation in her head caused by bites. Oh, how that couldn’t be further from the truth. Arthur wondered if she’d been having visions, if she believed Merlin as much as she did that night. He couldn’t ask, not here. The conversation would have to be saved for another time. Leon took the controls, lifting the Helicopter into motion.

  ♦☼♦

  They found Merlin within ten minutes of flying at high speeds. He had attempted to fix her delicate wing with magical healing, plastering large thick leaves around the tear for comfort and to cease the risk of infection. Léohte had panicked when they tried to place her in the aircraft, causing unwilling tears of frustration to fall down Merlin’s face. How were they meant to save her if she was too frenzied? Arthur had knelt beside the druid, muttering reassuring words before ordering Leon to lower the large net that dangled from the Helicopter. Morgana reached for the large blanket by the first aid kit, smoothing it over the bottom of the net. Merlin refused to ride up with Morgana, Arthur and Leon, wanting to stay with his Wyvern the whole journey protectively. Arthur reluctantly agreed, he couldn’t deny Merlin that request, even if it was a little hazardous.

  “When you near the Saerion clan,” Merlin addressed Leon from below, stroking Léohte as she cried. “You must land outside the perimeter. They haven’t met þá útlendan before. They will be afraid, they will be angry. It’s best if Arthur and I go in first and try to explain the situation to Gilli. Then we can carry Léohte through to the clan.”

  Arthur smoothed his hand over Merlin’s knuckles comfortingly, noticing the way he flinched each time his Wyvern broke into a wail of pain. In response, Merlin smiled weakly, not quite meeting the blonde’s eyes. He caressed the silver scales on Léohte’s back, feeling her pulsing heart beat through his palms.

  “Okay,” Leon called. “Ready to go.”

  Standing, Arthur made his way back up the Helicopter. He cast one hopeful glance down to Léohte and Merlin as the engine started. This better work, he prayed to himself.

  “It’ll be fine,” Morgana cooed beside him gently, he nodded bleakly in response, not really believing her words.

  ♦☼♦

  The Saerion reef looked spectacular in the sunlight. The trees shrunk in size the closer they got to the coastline, spreading out from each other, wavering in the gentle breeze. The sand was pure white against the crystal blue waters. Not too far on the horizon stood a large cliff-face by the beach attached to a spectacular arch, Arthur could already tell from this distance that it was inhabited with the druids. Leon landed on the beach, anxious that the noise of the Helicopter had attracted attention to them. Jumping out of the aircraft, Morgana rushed towards Merlin, helping him move Léohte onto the stretcher (Merlin had used a quick spell to expand the size of the stretcher). Whilst this happened, Arthur gazed over towards the settlement. A dark mass has collected at the bottom of the cliff, and it was moving rapidly across the beach towards them.

  “Merlin,” his muttered swallowing-hard.

  Standing up, Merlin left Léohte’s side for a moment to observe the beach. The whole clan were marching towards them viciously. He frowned, the Saerion clan weren’t exactly renowned for their hospitality, perhaps he should have thought of this before. Nonetheless, fake confidence shrouded around him. It seemed he was going to have to do the thing he disliked doing the most, be Emrys. Slowly, he walked towards the mass of druids. When Arthur made his intentions of following him clear, Merlin held a hand up. Arthur immediately understood why. As the clan came further into focus, the wooden spears, toxic arrows and weapons were displayed, their shouts and cries echoing across the landscape.

  They’re less tolerant than I first thought, Merlin explained to Arthur in his mind. Stay back. If they don’t listen to me, just get back in the helicopter and tell Leon to fly-

  -What about you? Arthur asked nervously, restraining the urge to step forwards. Merlin smiled enigmatically at him for a second.

  I’m Emrys, remember?

  With that Merlin turned his attention towards the angry mob that had formed a few metres ahead. He instantly caught the familiar eyes of his old friend Gilli. Gilli was a peculiar druid, with pronounced ears and a friendly-looking face. The druid made no gesture to greet him, remaining in the neat line that had formed across the beach. Merlin gritted his teeth, growing impatient. He should had guessed this would become a political game. Bravely, he took another step forwards, watching the druids clutch their weapons tighter; some raised their palms in warning.

  “My friends,” Merlin called out towards the silenced, curious clan. “I come requesting your help-”

  “-you come with the enemy!” one druid screamed out.

  This spurred on the clan, who began chanting and yelling.

  “-how dare you bring their kind here!”

  One druid at the front shot a jet of light from their hands towards Merlin angrily, followed by an outbreak of vicious spells. Morgana gripped Arthur tightly by the arm, watching him raise his palm. Meeting her eyes fiercely, Arthur lowered is hand. His heart was racing. How was Merlin going to defend himself? To everyone’s astonishment, Merlin flicked the spells away with his hand effortlessly. Each spell withered into oblivion before it reached him, earning shocked gasps.

  “Forgive me,” Merlin said, voice low and full of power. Arthur watched in awe as the druids lowered their weapons in fearful realisation. “I should have made my intentions known before coming here-”

  “-Y-your grace, p-please f-forgive us!” A female stutt
ered nervously, falling to her knees. She was dressed in an eloquent jacket, black hair braided elegantly. Her fancy golden gown gestured she was of importance, perhaps the clan leader. The clan abruptly mimicked her gesture, bowing before Merlin, confirming Arthur’s suspicions she was the leader. Gilli seemed dumbfounded by all of this, gazing interestedly towards his old friend – who was apparently Emrys.

  “Rise, my friends.” Merlin commanded awkwardly, wincing as they mechanically followed his orders. He had never desired power, or been one to marvel at having control over people. In fact, he heavily disliked it. Nonetheless, if wielding his status as Emrys would save Léohte, then he would play the role destiny supposedly lay out for him.

  “Emrys,” the female bowed her head once more whilst curtsying. “My name is Topia, I am the clan leader of Saerion. How may we be of service?”

  “Topia, please,” Merlin insisted, bowing his head in return politely. “Call me Merlin.” Pause. The druids all stared at him with wide eyes, waiting for his next words. Merlin shuffled uncomfortably under their gaze, wishing nothing more than for them to just treat him normally. He met Gilli’s hurt expression and sighed, he probably should have mentioned his secret identity…but there really hadn’t been a need to all those years ago.

  “My Wyvern was attacked,” Merlin explained. “she needs somewhere safe to stay and recover.”

  “She is most welcome here,” Topia said. “Gilli is rather knowledgeable in this field.”

  Offering a warm smile towards his old friend, Merlin raised his eyebrows.

  “Gilli, if you wouldn’t mind?”

  All eyes turned to the druid. Gilli stumbled out of the line, walking towards Merlin hesitantly.

  “Long time no see, Emrys.” He said rather rudely; Merlin pretended he hadn’t heard the words and gestured towards Topia who took a step forwards.

  “Forgive me for asking, Emrys.” She muttered, gazing behind him urgently. “Why did you bring the útlendan here? They have committed great crimes against our kind, berated our traditions and caused suffering.”

  Merlin smiled, craning close to whisper something in her ear, and Arthur wished he could hear what they were saying because all of a sudden the woman’s eyes were latched upon him intensely. Turning back to Merlin abruptly, Topia leant towards him in amazement.

  “He is…he is the once and future?” Merlin nodded simply, gazing over to the man in the distance fondly.

  “Does he know?” she asked softly.

  “This is a destiny he must discover for himself.” Merlin wisely replied, averting his eyes to Gilli who appeared even more confused by talk of destiny and once and future.

  “Then let us focus on the real problem at hand, your Wyvern.” Topia concluded, walking towards the three útlendan cautiously. Her emerald eyes skimmed over Leon, doted on Morgana, then rested pensively upon Arthur Pendragon. Leon bowed his head in respect; the other two copied him swiftly.

  “Leon has studied the druids for many years,” Merlin supplied, watching the man blush. “He is an expert on everything Albion.”

  Raising her eyebrows, Topia moved her gaze back towards the curly-haired man. Morgana smirked in delight. Whilst Topia began interrogating Leon in the druid tongue, examining his responses carefully, Gilli knelt beside Merlin by Léohte. Smoothing his hands over the silver scales, Gilli smiled weakly. “She is beautiful Merlin.” He admitted, moving closer to the wing. Gently he peeled off the leaves, studying the gash in her wing closely. “It’s not as serious as it looks. The tear luckily did not extend to the end of the wing-“

  “-So she’ll be okay?” Merlin breathed in relief.

  “Yes. She will need a few days recovery here in the safety of the clan, away from potential threats. When she has overcome the initial exhaustion it will take her a week or so to grasp the concept of flying again. Unfortunately, there is nothing that can be done for the tear.” Gilli patted the scales comfortingly. “It is better to leave the tear than try to repair it. If the stiches came undone whilst flying, which is most likely, she could have a fatal crash. It’s much safer to allow her to become accustomed to the change in her wing, deal with the damage naturally.”

  Nodding in understanding, Merlin frowned.

  “She will be safe here Merlin,” Gilli said. “When she is ready to take to the skies, your paths will join again.”

  “I know you will take care of her for me.” Merlin grimaced, petting the Wyvern delicately. It gazed over to him, confused and fatigued. “It’s okay Léohte, Gilli will take care of you here. We will be apart no more than a few weeks. When you are ready, you can fly home.” The Wyvern appeared unsatisfied with these terms. “I’m sorry this is the only way I can ensure your safe recovery. Bregurófne will miss you, don’t worry.”

  Getting to his feet, Merlin turned to Topia who had made her way towards the injured creature.

  “Emrys, I promise we will take care of her.” She signaled towards her clan. Six druids walked towards the stretcher. “Take Léohte back to the clan, she needs rest and shelter.”

  Gilli patted Merlin on the shoulder.

  “I hope to see you soon, friend.” He said, briskly following the stretcher to oversee the procedures.

  “I cannot thank you enough Topia.” Merlin bowed his head to her, clasping her hand gently.

  “Emrys, thank you.” She replied, greatly confusing him. “Since the arrival of Camelot Enterprise, the clan have been on edge, jumpy. I have no doubt that seeing you would have restored their faith in Albion and in the ancient legends, promising our safety from outside threats.”

  With that, the woman left their presence, following the procession back to the settlement. Merlin watched sadly as his Wyvern was carried away into the distance, towards the Saerion clan.

  ♦☼♦

  Arthur was unsure how to react to Merlin’s strange behaviour, strange meaning the druid had deviated from his usual quirky nature, and dwindled into a quiet, pensive state that was too distant to try and engage with. As the silence unfolded beneath the silver moon, Arthur quickly established that it wasn’t a peaceful silence. Even though it should’ve been. They’d saved Léohte! Gilli was currently caring for her. Arthur frowned, running a hand through his blonde hair nervously. Reluctantly, the blonde sat down beside Merlin who was gazing drearily out at the lake. It was common knowledge to Arthur by now that Merlin often went to the lake when he wanted some time to himself, or to ‘think’.

  “You’re very quiet.” He observed nonchalantly, hands hooked over his knees.

  Bowing his head, Merlin pursed his lips together in an attempt at a smile. It failed miserably. Arthur averted his vision towards the scenery ahead of them; the beautiful Crystal Lake, and the lush forests of Ealdor layering behind. The woodland really was more beautiful than the tropical rainforests of the Amazon. He’d even go far enough to say that it was more spectacular than any of theforests on earth put together. Finally lifting his head, Merlin sighed audibly.

  “I’m sorry.” The very tone of his voice suggested worry. “I suppose I ought to be happy, we saved Léohte thanks to you.”

  Turning to Merlin awkwardly, Arthur twisted his lips. The Pendragon family weren’t exactly renowned for heart-to-hearts or deep conversations. He was still getting used to the kind of intimacy the druids had with each other, allowing himself to let go. He both liked and disliked it; letting emotions runs free across his skin, flourishing out in the open. Watching the druid observantly, Arthur prodded his shoulder lightly. He received no response, though he hadn’t really expected one. Nudging the raven-haired statue playfully, Arthur smiled freely; if his eyes were correct, he noticed Merlin’s own eyes crinkle a little.

  “Merlin,” he cooed. “What’s wrong?”

  Lowering his eyes, Merlin twiddled his fingers delicately. He and Arthur had become close. But there were things he had never told anybody, not even his father. This probing doubt of his destiny, of himself – it was something he feared he could never voice. For if he e
ver did, would it merely become a truth? Or would it be dismissed as a stupid thought and left to grow in his solitude? Swallowing-hard, he quickly spared a glance at Arthur who sat inquisitively next to him.

  “It’s just...” Don’t say it. “…. you wouldn’t understand.”

  Arthur had discovered a long time ago that the most effective way of making Merlin respond to him was when there was some level of humour or sarcasm in his tone. It made absolutely no sense, and he was positive no other relationship between druids or friends could possibly work in this bizarre way. Yet their peculiar balancing of teasing, and ‘banter’ as Gwaine called it, somehow was successful. Leaning back on his palms, Arthur smirked.

  “Try me.”

  Merlin turned to face Arthur, who was leaning casually against a rock, head titled in curiosity. For a moment, the druid became enraptured with the spectacle of the sunlight radiating against his glowing skin, those bright sapphire eyes twinkling alluringly. His golden hair, gently sprayed over his forehead by the breeze, truly contributed to this marvel. Blinking rapidly, as if it would clear his mind of such thoughts, Merlin cast his eyes back to the lake. Then he realised, he should probably answer, or the prat was never going to leave him alone. He considered creating an elaborate lie, but his magic seethed at the notion. His trusted Arthur, Arthur was proving himself more and more each day. Arthur had shared many of his own burdens and secrets with Merlin; perhaps it would not be unwise to return the gesture of trust and companionship. Frowning, he took a laboured breath as he decided to talk.

  “I have a great destiny.” He began uncertainly, clenching his jaw in anticipation. “It’s one that scares me. One I feel I cannot possibly live up to, it’s infinite. (he ran a hand through his hair in exasperation) I am the son of Balinor, the son of a Dragonlord. And one day this power will be handed down to me, to watch over Ealdor, to protect the people…” his voice trailed off, eyes wide and expressionless as the words sunk into his skin. But it wasn’t just that. Merlin wasn’t just the future leader, a future dragonlord…he was also Emrys.