Chapter Text
Percival raised his sword, parallel to his body with the tip up as he slowed down and cautiously peeked around the edge of the wall just before the larger cavern. A dim glow still emitted from the coals of the central fire that the cauldron they had been searching for sat just hours before. The feline body, bloodied and beaten beyond recognition lay in a heap off to the side in what appeared to be its bedding. Nothing moved. The cavern was silent. Vaguely he could make out the tunnel of to the right where the giant had fled.
The large knight turned back to his companions, a request on his lips for Merlin to send some light through, but he was stopped short. He gave Gwaine the oddest look. Trying not to laugh, the question died on his lips. Percival blinked rapidly and still could not seem to formulate the words.
"What?" Gwaine asked, bewildered. He turned to see if Merlin was doing something funny, but noticed the warlock was purposely looking the other way. He shook his head in confusion and that was when the situation suddenly came to light... as his bangs fell in front of his face. He glared at the luminescent strands, his lips twitching under his facial hair as he reached for a response.
Without looking, he reached out and slapped the back of Merlin's still very ginger head, in a rather Arthurian maneuver.
"Ow!" With a soft chuckle Merlin shook his head and brought the glow back into his hand.
Clearing his throat, Percival smiled and finally asked quietly, "Can you send some light around to check the place?"
"Want the whole place lit up or just something for the corners?"
"Hell, light it up!" Gwaine responded with a wide grin.
Percival opened his mouth to respond and then just shrugged. If anything was in there, he felt it might be better to see it as clearly as possible; although if the giant was hidden down the tunnel, he'd be able to see them coming.
Merlin closed his eyes, concentrating on his small sphere. When he opened them, they glowed with the inner fire and he sent the ball in an underhanded spin away from him towards the center of the room. The illumination from the ball began to spread and soon there were no shadows left in the room.
What they saw almost caused Merlin to retract the spell. What remained of the cat was even more gruesome under the ghostly glow. In another corner there was a pile of bones and decomposing tissue. The floor was covered in filth. "Looks like the same people clean this place that cleaned your grandfather's dungeons," the warlock remarked offhandedly to Gwaine.
Slime from the cauldron still dripped off the wall where it had been thrown, body pieces still half floated in a pool at the base of the rock, gathering in a depression of the floor.
"I didn't think the pot was that large," Percival said wrinkling his nose at the stench as they began searching the area.
Merlin shrugged, "It's a magical cauldron, there's no telling how much it could hold." He felt a tugging sensation on his psyche towards the pool, "Remind me to try and look through that stuff on our way back."
Gwaine made a face. "Okay, friend, but you'll be on your own for that."
As they explored the cavern further the men came to the conclusion that there was only the one other exit from the room. They neared it and Merlin pulled the light back to him, deepening the shadows surrounding them. He had finally become adjusted to the unnatural coolness of the cave. As he peered around the wall into the tunnel, the sensation once again increased. It felt as if a freezing wind was blowing from the opening, but a look at the other two signaled that he was the only one to feel it. He bit back his anxiety and pressed forward with them.
The tunnel held similar aspects to main entrance, but the carvings became even more horrific. The entire passage seemed to serve as a sort of story that only darkened as they moved down it. There were no branches off of the main path, so they pushed forward. Ahead of them they could see two pillars on either side, stretching towards the ceiling. These marked the gateway into another room. From between them spilled what first appeared to be moonlight, but as they neared all three began to realize they had witnessed this glow before. Percival's eyes scanned the new cavern. Surrounded by even more ornate carvings was a swirling gray gate, held together by strong magic, but no sign of a giant or the cauldron. Along the walls were braziers, though lit with fire, there was no color to them, as if it had all been sucked out.
"Damn, looks familiar," Gwaine commented. Although not a tear, the fluctuating grays, blues, and infinite blackness was obviously the same as what they had come across on the Isle of the Blessed years before.
Merlin was brought up short as he saw it, but for another reason which his friends could not see. He fought back the wave of dizziness that threatened his mind. "Hello, Cailleach."
The ancient woman in her dark ratted cloak nodded her head. "Greetings, Emrys."
Percival and Gwaine turned to him questioningly, but noticed he was staring at the gate, seeing something they could not. They shared a concerned glance between them. "Merlin, there's no one there," The large knight commented.
Merlin smirked at his friend's words, but kept staring straight ahead. "So, this is the doorway to hell?"
"Some may call it that. Before you lies the last open gate between the worlds."
"And this is where Dyrnwch fled," he stated, already knowing the answer.
The old crone appeared to smile, though it held no joy. Her eyes shifted slowly to the bottom left corner of the gate and he followed her gaze. A stone tablet sat leaning against the edge, rune marks carved upon it. Merlin let his magical light dissipate and moved forward cautiously to inspect the writing. He rolled his eyes as he read through the cryptic prose. He sighed, "What is so wrong with actually stating things plainly?" He cast a bored glance at the crone.
"Words are used as they should be. No more, no less than what is needed to convey that which they describe."
His eyebrows rose in sardonic disbelief. "Really?" When he realized she wasn't going to respond he sighed again and read through it again. "Twice times the sacred number of the goddess in its creation shall cross. One more for the joining shall bind it. Faith restored, faith destroyed, day and night shall be as one, and the balance shall be kept with sacrifice."
"The sacred number is three, right?" Percival commented uneasily, still searching for whoever Merlin was speaking with, "So twice means six."
"And one more," Merlin said mulling over the riddle, "...Is seven."
"We take seven of us through then," Gwaine smiled proudly. Merlin and Percival looked at the rogue as if he'd grown a second head. "Seriously, you guys really need to quit over thinking things."
"Alright, Lord of the Simpletons, what does the next part mean?"
"Haven't a clue."
"Does Dyrnwch's passage count as one?" Merlin asked the Cailleach.
Much to his shock the answer was simple, "Yes."
"Six then," He pursed his lips in concentration, "Which means to come back we would need to bring him alive with us so as not to upset the balance and create a tear as Morgause did. I think."
"We should get back to Arthur and fill him in," the large knight suggested.
Merlin nodded, ready to leave the portal room. Every passing moment was pressing against his head as he knelt this close to the gate.
They backtracked to the large cavern, Merlin's head feeling clearer every step he took away from it.
Gwaine looked disgustedly at the large puddle of slime. He patted Merlin on the back, "Have at it, my friend."
The warlock winced as he moved forward; the brave knights of Camelot maintained their distance, sniggering at his predicament. Steadying himself he brought his hands up and used his magic to sift through the muck. Finally he found what was calling to him and he summoned it towards the top of the pool. A headless corpse, still clothed in ancient armor appeared. Merlin smiled gleefully and stepped back, recalling Taliesin's words. "Um… I might need some help here," he turned to the other two grinning mischievously. There was no way he was going to be the only one dealing with the stench.
He bit back a chuckle as he watched the two stronger men struggling with the body. He wondered briefly if they ever realized how many times he had dragged Arthur single handedly around with all the added weight, although part of their struggle was Gwaine attempting to touch as little of the body as possible. They finally reached the mouth of the cave and realized full darkness had descended upon the mountain ruins. The two men dropped the body unceremoniously away from the main campfire.
"Hey Bran, I have something for you," Merlin called out.
The servant left in charge of the head brought Bran over, though he nearly let go of him while trying not to gag on the awful stench that permeated the area.
Bran's eyes widened. "Where… How… I was in Ireland when it happened,"
"Yeah, but remember what Taliesin said, 'it was right where you left it,' probably stuffed in the bottom of the cauldron."
The head let out with a wild whooping sound causing everyone in the camp to turn and stare.
The poor servant couldn't take anymore and quickly shoved the head into Merlin's arms before running off into the darkness to lose his supper.
Arthur stood up and moved closer, attempting to discretely pinch his nose, "That smells almost worse than you did after the bog."
"What bog?" Merlin asked not recalling the incident.
Gwaine laughed, "The bog after you'd been missing a week, you were coated head to toe in that stuff, and to think the princess here actually manned up and hugged you."
Blue eyes shot open wide, his stereotypical goofy grin plastered on his face. "You hugged me?"
"You really don't remember that?" Arthur responded quizzically.
Merlin shook his head. "Nope. Wow, if I knew getting covered in filth is what it took for you to show emotion, I'd have done that more often." The warlock grinned even more and tried to open his arms wide, while still holding onto Bran.
The sour look on Arthur's face said it all, "Merlin…"
"Yes, Sire?"
Coughing against his fist Arthur looked at the body one more time. "See if you can get that cleaned up and find some way to put Prince Bran back together." The king turned on his heel and strode quickly away from the scene.
It was late into the night when Merlin finally slouched down next to the fire. Bran's body had been cleaned as much as possible, something the warlock was sure none of the few servants and squires with them would ever forgive him for, and the formerly decapitated knight lay in a magically induced sleep as his body and head readjusted to each other.
He glanced at Arthur, who sat awake mesmerized by the dancing flames of the campfire. "You should get some sleep."
"So should you."
Glancing around Merlin noted that everyone else appeared to be slumbering. "Eh, I'll sleep when we're done with this mess."
"You're not as young as you used to be, Merlin."
"Neither are you, My Lord," he responded with a hint of cynicism.
Arthur picked up a piece of kindling and chucked it across the fire. The two men shared a brotherly chuckle. Picking himself up, the king moved around and plopped down next to Merlin. "Gwaine was telling me that only six of us can go through this portal thing you found."
Merlin nodded, "It appears so. Who were you thinking of leaving behind?"
"Sir Tarnin for certain, we'd have to carry him with that leg. And probably Cai."
"He's not going to be happy about that."
Arthur grunted in agreement, "I know, but if something happens to us he's the one I trust most to look after my son."
The warlock turned his head and gave the king a measured look. "Growing fond of him?"
He shrugged, "Say we don't come back from this, or at least I don't…"
"Don't say that," Merlin interrupted.
Arthur held up his hand. "No, hear me out I actually have a some knowledge about these things. Guinevere is common blood, as much as she is my queen and people accept her by my side, if I'm not there, and if she is not with child, things could get ugly rather quickly I'd imagine. You are the closest blood to the throne that they might accept. If you are at her side then they should continue to accept her. For those that still believe in the purity of nobility, as my father did, even Morgana would seem a better choice, despite all she has done."
Merlin sat silently listening, appalled by the politics of the court, but he couldn't argue with Arthur's assessment of them.
"If someone were to find out about Loholt, which I fear they already have, I would worry they would take him and twist him, as Morgause did to Morgana, and if you are not there to stop it…" his voice trailed off.
"So leave Cai to do what he has done best, take care of the boy," Merlin nodded in understanding.
"Should I not return from this, I expect you to take him under your wing. He would be my blood heir and despite his circumstances he would be likely to rule when the time comes that Guinevere is no longer fit."
Merlin mulled it over in his mind. "We're going to get through this Arthur. You'll go home, healthy, and it'll be as it should be," he stated with finality, patting his cousin on the shoulder. He decided to divert the topic so as not to dwell on the what ifs, "So that leaves us, of course, Gwaine, Percival, Bedivere and Bran. Because I doubt if anything is going to stop him now."
Sleep finally took the men for a few scant hours before the sun began to rise. Loholt awoke first, although he was still shaken by the events from the day before, he seemed in better spirits and soon began retelling his version of events to the laughing knights as they ate a meal together. Cai and Arthur stood off to the side after breakfast arguing. Merlin could tell when the debate about whether Cai should go or stay ended with the finality of the king's orders.
Bran was jumping around like a boy, stretching and testing out his body. He relished in the sensations of being able to move on his own once again. Gwaine was eager to point out that the skin appeared stained in a sickly green tint. Bran glowered at the knight for a moment before shaking his head, "Well I don't really care at this moment, at least it's not orange."
"HEY!" Merlin protested off to the side while reorganizing his pack. With all the excitement, he hadn't had a chance or the motivation to attempt to restore his natural hair color yet.
Percival searched through his belongings and soon produced the axe Bran wielded in the Perilous Lands. Clarissant insisted he pack it along with everything else. Grinning like a cat the prince took it from him happily. With everything set to go the six men set off into the cave once more.
Gritting his teeth Merlin moved forward into the room first. The Caillaech was absent this time for which he was partially thankful.
"Leon once said he would ride into the mouth of hell for me, and today we do the same for him," The king began in his usual pre-battle speech as they prepared themselves for the next step.
"Yeah, but I really don't think he would have meant for it to be taken quite this literally," Gwaine quipped to break the tension, not realizing the true weight of the words.
"He did, as did I," Percival responded in a serious tone.
"As did I," Merlin echoed recalling the time before the battle for Camelot.
The other men, although not present when the words were spoken voiced their agreement to the sentiment.
Arthur puffed out his chest with a breath of pride and decided the rest of the words he planned to say weren't necessary. He took one last look over his men. He drew out his sword, spun it in the palm of his hand and walked into the veil. One by one the others followed until only Merlin was left.
He stood a moment to collect his thoughts and reached within himself to touch the bond he shared with the dragons and now Morgana through his vows and the stone. He brought his focus to narrow in on just his wife. He could sense her still asleep in the bed they shared.'Forgive me, my love, for the anger with which we parted. I will return to you soon.'
His love was warmth, it was her light. The darkness spread behind her, fading away. They danced together in the bright sunlit meadow. The child they both claimed skipping around them gaily. Crowds of warriors suddenly surrounded them and pushed him away. She tried to reach out and battle her way through, but found her feet rooted in place. She saw the veil, as it had been the night she plunged the blade into her sister's heart, and he was walking towards it, further and further away from her.
He cast a glance back, his blue eyes filled with promises as he walked through the gaping maw between the worlds. Everything went cold and silent. He was gone.
Morgana bolted upright, gasping for air. Merlin was gone, the connection they had since the wedding night a few days past had disappeared. It left her shivering, alone in her bed, clutching tightly at the stone pendant.
A knock at the door preceded George's entrance into the room, "My Lady, one of the scouts has returned. Maelgwn's forces have been spotted."
Continued in "Into Hell, Prieddu Annwn" on Fanfiction.net