Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first snowflake of winter landed on Apple’s mane. On the road, far from Camelot. Merlin looked up at the dark gray of heavy clouds, watching as more and more snowflakes glittered in their slow fall. Apple took no notice and just continued following the horse in front. Their small group rode south, from the west coast to Camelot, a vast mountain range in their way.

“Snow. Just what we needed.” Lord Laodur said.

“If Lord Karak hadn’t dragged on for so long we would have been home by now. In front of a warm hearth.” Lord Modd said, looking at the gathering clouds, “Instead it seems we’ll be stuck in a snowstorm.”   

“The snow may have started early but true winter is still a while off. There is still time to get back to Camelot without setbacks.” Arthur said. 

“My Lord, the winters in this area are more unpredictable and sudden than in other parts of the kingdom.” young Sir Gareth said, just newly acquiring his knights shield and sword, “I grew up here, and usually when the winds bring in the snow, there is no stopping. We would do well to hurry back.”

He readies to say more but another of the knights puts a hand on his shoulder to halt him. Gareth blushes and looks away realizing he had spoken out of turn.

“Thank you Sir Gareth. In a few hours we’ll stop for the night. Then we will regroup and discuss our next step.” Arthur said, turning away his gaze and back to the road in front. Effectively halting further discussion.

The two lords, part of the entourage, continue to grumble. Sir Robin, the oldest knight Merlin has met, grumbles right with them.

Behind Merlin, the other servants – meaning the cart with all their belongings and provisions – and the lords and knights in the front, start talking amongst themselves. 

He looks to his right; the first hills of the White Mountains visible as they ride next to them. And in the distance the already snow covered mountain tops. The setting sun usually bathing the peaks a soft pink now looks an ominous orange.

They make camp in the same clearing they used on the way to the coast, where Lord Karak had required their help dealing with merchants from the land of Eire.

The camp is set up in record time by the servants. A hearty stew bubbling on the fire. Merlin is just adding a handful of herbs to the stew when Arthur strides up to him – when he usually would have just called over the distance, “Is supper ready yet?”

“Almost.” Merlin said, shuffling to the side on the low stone so that Arthur could sit besides as he usually would. But Arthur doesn’t sit down, only looks at Merlin pointedly, and Merlin wants to hit his head at having again forgotten their current circumstances. A master and a servant cannot seem friendly in front of high Lords and noble Knights. It would be unseemly and Merlin wants to snort at that for what feels like the hundredth time just that week.

Nobles and their hangups.

“How is everyone holding up in the back? The provisions Lord Karak sent us off with still hold?”

“Yes. It’s all going as it should.”

“Good.”

They descend into awkward silence, both wanting it to be a different setting. In the end Arthur turns around and goes back to the logs around them, sitting by the Knights and Lords, making their next plans.

“Is the food ready yet, Sire? The travel has been long on my old bones.” Lord Modd grumbled.

“It will be done soon, then we will eat.”

“It’s taking forever at this point. We’ve been waiting for more than an hour.”

The servants around them shuffled, almost imperceptible. If Merlin wasn’t one of them he would not have noticed. The lords and knights in question, having lifted not a finger while the servants have taken care of the horses, the provisions, the tents and now the food, take no notice.

“Hmm.” At least Arthur had gotten better in his treatment of servants - making just a noise, neither agreeing or disagreeing… a bit anyway, it was still a work in progress. Merlin gives him extra points for trying to divert everyone's attention with: “While we wait we should speak of the next part of our journey. If we do not wish to be stuck in the middle of the mountains nor to go the long way around by the coast, we will need to consult the maps for a more direct route.”

“Yes, Sire. You boy, give me the map from my bag. Not that one!” Lord Laodur said, making his servant shuffle to and fro to finally find the maps required.

It takes a while as the servants put up a few long standing torches so the light comes from above and the lords and knights can stretch a faded piece of parchment over one of the crates carrying their supplies.

“It seems the best course of action would be to take the most direct route through the White pass.” Lord Laodur concluded, nodding to himself arms crossed like the conclusion was a done deal just for him having said it.

“The pass is known for the snow that blocks it however.” Arthur said.

“Perhaps.-” one of the younger knights ventured but was ignored.

“Indeed when the snow falls the pass is unpassable. Most of them are in the White Mountains. But the snow is still off enough that we should be alright to pass there, even though we might be a bit more cold.” Lord Modd said.

“It’s a risk however. With the current winds. The snow is already starting.” Arthur tried to counter.

“To not go there means losing precious time and trying for the east pass, which will definitely be blocked from snow by the time we arrive.” Lord Laodur said.

“…”

“And doing so would mean we would have to go the long way around. We do not have the resources for it -” the Lord continued.

“We can always stop at the towns and villages and ask our people for accommodations and resources.” Arthur said.

“The King would not be happy for us to be so late. The quest is already overextended.” Lord Modd said.

And there was nothing more that could be said.

“We will make our way to the snow pass.” Arthur concluded into the expectant silence that followed.

And they all look over to the mountain peaks, glowing cold white and blue in the light of the moon.

By the middle of the next day they were on the meandering path going uphill towards the pass. A small slit between the highest peaks. The highest tip standing like the giant that the legends say lived atop, his cloak covering the mountain in gray stone and white snow. 

They camp that night beneath tall, ancient pines and make their way over rocky terrain the day after. The trees and then the shrubs fall away slowly as they climb up until, all of a sudden, they’re all gone. Even the grass seams do not grow past the line they were about to cross, giving way to pure stone and dirt. 

The horses huff and puff, one knight’s horse rearing for no noticeable reason, but the knight gets it under control and they continue. But when Merlin steps over the line between grass and stone, it feels like a punch to the gut. Air leaves his lungs as he is left looking into the empty distance. 

This felt wrong.

Too exposed, too baren, nowhere to hide, nowhere to run. Merlin felt hunted, as if an unseen hunter was there, just waiting to shoot the killing shot. The wind picked up speed, their coaks flowing behind them, now that they were protected by the trees. A thrill runs up his spine, filling him with cold dread. 

“Merlin!” Arthur yelled, almost right in his ear, and Merlin jerked back, pulling the horse under his right along and it took a few steps back.

“What is wrong with you? Just standing there and keeping everyone waiting-”

“We need to go back.”

“What-”

“There’s something seriously wrong here.”

Arthur groans, “Not another one of your feelings.”

“Arthur-”

“No, this is the only way we can get back home in a reasonable amount of time-”

“Not if we’re dead-”

“We will be fine-”

“We could go around, like you suggested-”

“It would take too long. No, we are going this way-”

“Arthu-”

“That is final, servant!”

And that just striked Merlin short.

“Do you understand?” Arthur said, stressing the words.

And Merlin was seriously tempted to turn right around and go back the way he came, around the mountains, pass the forests and out the other side to Ealdor. His mum would by now be readying for the winter months and making the last preserves from the remains of the summer harvest. He could join her in it and forget there ever was a Prat Prince and his Pratish Destiny.

But then the anger faded enough  from his eyes for him to see Arthur – clearly just as unhappy with what had happened. Jaw clenched, the leather crackling in stress as he gripped the reins even tighter. Eyes bright in anger, in frustration, in a plea to please see that this was not what he truly wanted either but, here and now, with Uther’s lords and knights at their backs, they couldn’t do differently.

“... Yes” he said at length. And he could almost see the relief flooding Arthur’s eyes with warmth, even though his posture and words remained strong and sharp. 

“Good.” He said, turning his horse around to go back upfront. A knight called something over to him and he snapped something back, clearly un-willing to partake in jokes now.

Merlin took in a deep breath. He looked around, but couldn’t see anything suspicious. He glanced at the others, then lowered his head and hid his gaze, making sure that none of the others were looking at him as he flared his magic in waves around him into the distance. He felt the dry land, the empty slopes, the suffocating snow at the tops of the peaks. But he couldn’t find anything that would give him an idea of what was causing the haunting feeling in him. Finally he urged the  just as unhappy Apple forward. Every step felt like they were plunging deeper into the abyss.

The road they were traveling on turned into a path, just wide enough for two horses to ride aside. And as the slopes climbed even higher and the flat land turned into steep ledges on one side, and hard rock walls on the other, the path turned into nothing more than a goat trail, just leaving enough space for one horse to walk unsteadily over the uneven terrain.

They pass a waterfall, the brook below it just shallow enough for them to cross, but the water is cold and the stones slippery, one of the lord’s horses almost slipping and falling. Which just made everyone more annoyed with the dreary weather, the howling wind across exposed rock and the endless climb.

The pass bent until they finally reached the top of the first slope, only to be greeted by a small valley, and a village in the distance, nestled at the foot of the final slope.

“Ah, good. We can spend the night in good beds and continue on tomorrow.”

The village at a distance seems like a ghost town, but as they get closer they see life, and people come out to greet them. The head of the community takes them to the inn. Which they’re all surprised to see there in the middle of nowhere but take to it with gusto.

The beds are sparse and the servants need to sleep on the floors. But the rooms are warm and dry. The bath water is clear. And once they come down to the tavern of the inn to eat their evening meal, the atmosphere is lively and the drink easy flowing; it felt as though every villager had made their way into the tavern.

The servants sit on the edge of the table with their masters, but far enough so the propriety is intact. Merlin sips his drink, despondent. When the lords bid good night and the knights had all either gone to sleep or were drinking with the villagers, Arthur walked over to sit down next to him and elbows him to get his attention.

“Is this still about your ‘funny feeling’? Come now Merlin, it will be fine! What’s the worst that could happen?”

“We get snowed in with whatever's in the pass and die?”

“Such a worrywart –”

“You’re going to the pass? Oh you might want to reconsider that.” a new voice said, and both turned to see a man standing behind them. He’s old and weathered, skin almost as leather, head gray and white. He’s holding a tankard, and then takes a seat beside Arthur, unprompted and sloshes good half his drink onto the table and Arthur's shirt. Merlin had to hold back a smirk as Arthur twitched at the feel of the drink on his clothes. He could visibly see his jaw twitching and him schooling his features to address the man.

“And why is that?” Arthur asked, and Merlin saw Sir Robin – the only one still near enough – turn half around to listen to their conversation. 

“Well, because of the Lord of the Hunt, of course.” the man said. As if it explains everything.

“And who is that?” 

“The Lord living in the woods in the mountains, the pass cuts right into his territory. He does not do well with people being in his territory. They say he hunts trespassers like sport! Ha.” And the man laughed like he had said a marvelous joke.

“Impossible. There is no Lord in these mountains. No land was given to one.”

“Oh, he is there, don’t you worry. He has been here for eons.”

“...I see.”

“Hahaha! Don’t believe me if you don’t want to. Not that anyone will bother to warn you here. All puppets to the Lord we are. Well then, I’ll be off. Enjoy your night! It’ll probably be the last one ~”

And off he goes. Arthur and Merlin looked at each other. Off in his corner, Sir Robin turned around to stare out the window, sipping his drink.

Back in their room, Merlin was adding wood to the fire and getting a blanket ready to find a good spot on the floor, when Arthur called him over to the bed. 

“Don’t be that daft. It’s cold, I would rather not wake an icicle.” Arthur said, ignoring as the fire belied his words.

They end up lying toe to shoulder on the narrow but comfortable enough bed, sharing warmth.

“What was with that guy earlier? Lord of the Hunt. Like that makes any sense.” Arthur huffed into the dark. 

“What if he was telling the truth?”

“There is no Lord in these mountains. The land is too baren to be of any use to anyone. Father would not give it to someone, it would be insane.”

“Does the place… not seem creepy to you?”

Arthru took a long moment to answer. Merlin looked over and only saw  his outline in the glow of the fire, “No.”

”You’re lying.”

“I’m a Prince of Camelot, I do not lie”

“Why can’t you just admit it’s freaking creepy here.”

“Because it does not matter. We must pass here. And something being creepy does not automatically mean there is danger.”

“…”

A Sigh. Then:“Just stick with me, you’ll be fine.”

“...”

“I promise.”

“... You can’t promise that.”

“I just did. Now sleep. We have a long path ahead of us tomorrow.”

By the time the winter sun rose, and they were readying the horses, the lords and knights came out of the rooms. The inn owner came out with them, talking to them and pointing ahead at a man who was walking towards them, staff in hand along with the reins for a sturdy cow pulling an empty cart.

“This man can show you to the pass. It can be tricky from here since the roads are so narrow.” The inn owner said.

“The road up to here was no more than a footpath in places, how do you trade with nearby villages? Are the roads not maintained?” Arthur asked.

“We have no need to trade all that much with the western villages. It’s easier to trade with the villages on the other side of the pass and the Lord is here to provide for the rest.”

“... The Lord?”

“Yes.” The man nodded, as if it made sense for there to be a lord that none of them have ever heard of.

“Wh-?”

“Sire, are we going?” the man with the cow and cart interjected, “only I need to hurry if I am to get to the stone quarry and back before nightfall.”

“Yes, very well. We leave.”

“Are we not gonna ask who the lord is?” Merlin hissed at Arthur when the other came close enough to take the reins of his horse from Merlin.

“No. Because it does not matter. If it’s a lord of the land then they are part of Camelot, therefore they owe us fealty.”

“But you said yourself that there aren't any lords here .”

“... We will see.”

And Arthur urged the horse forward before Merlin could get another word out.

They made their way out of the village and down to the valley, turning towards the pass, hugging the rocky cliffs as they passed on the road, now big enough for two carts to pass each other.

Up the slope and till they reached a fork in the road, the road continuing off over the lip of the hill and the other smaller path cutting off towards the quarry.

“You need to continue that way, one day travel by horse, two if you encounter deep snow.” the man said, pointing up the craggy slope.

“Thank you.” Arthur said.

“This is your last chance to turn away, you know.” The man said, in one last attempt.

“Thank you for your consideration.” Arthur said briskly, though not unkind, and moved on without looking back.

And off they trot. Merlin turned back to look at the farmer when it was his turn to pass him. The farmer looked back with a serious expression and followed his gaze until Merlin needed to turn around so as to not fall off.

They stop at the top of the hill, to find the pass opening up before their eyes, and they see the full extent of their journey before them for the first time. The valley on the plateau between is massive, stretching into the horizon, a forest of evergreen covering a good half of it, a river flowing through the middle and widens into a giant lake, following the curves of the mountains hugging the valley.

“There. The other side of the pass is over there, between those two peaks,” Lord Modd said, pointing to the far off horizon. The pale moon was already rising in the early afternoon between the two pale peaks in the distance.

Merlin sighed, then took a look over the valley, the woods, the lake, the slopes of the surrounding mountains. He could find no settlements, no castles… and hopefully no enigmatic lords.

He looked over to Arthur, who flicked a glance his way and then back at the valley. Then forced his horse ahead. “We best make it to the edge of the forest before nightfall. The abandoned roman castellum the innkeep told us off should be there. Even if small, the walls of the tower will give us protection for the night. Let’s go.”

They reached the edge of the forest, the wind blessedly calming down in their shade, and followed the lake to a small hill and there they found the ruins of the old roman defense tower, and made camp. There, closer to the forest, they saw light snow dusted over the earth.

The fire was built, the food cooked. As the servants were making their pellets for sleep, the howls of the wolves started in the distance.

They stopped for a moment, but then continued with their tasks. 

“Alright, everyone knows the guard rotation?”

“Yes, Sire.”

“Good.”

Arthur had the first round and watched as the others got ready to go to sleep. But no way would he be arsed to do it alone, so he dragged Merlin to sit with him on the top of the ledge where the steps meet the tower floor.

They sat in silence for a long time, listening and waiting until the last of the people in the tower walls finally fell asleep. Both huddling into their sleeping blankets.

Finally it was silent; even the wolves in the distance had finished their hunt and fallen asleep for the night. Their breaths misted in front of them. 

“See. We’re going good so far.” Arthur whispered finally.

And Merlin was ready to throw a retort back at him but in that moment the clouds that had darkened the sky above them moved, and the shine of the full moon covered the world in silver light. The path they had come up from, now covered in a thin layer of snow, shone white and blue. The mist made its way across the mouth of the pass, gliding down into the valley like a stream of northern lights.

Merlin had never seen anything quite like it. It took his breath away. Arthur, quiet besides him, hitched his breath.

It was beautiful. 

Right up until the moon came low enough to the ground and became a blood moon. Throwing the valley into a dark and sticky red glow, the mist turned a fire red. The magic thumped. The wave coming from across the lake at their backs, in a place Merlin couldn’t see. It pushed his breath away, goosebumps crawling up his spine. A fresh feeling of horror seized him and he couldn’t breathe.

In the distance the wolves howled again. It chilled him to the bone.

The horses felt it too and started thrashing and whining. Arthur got up with a shout, and soon the others were awake and trying to calm the horses down.

The feeling of being stalked was back at full force.

This would not end well for them.