Hello! Welcome to the sequel of For Destiny and Friendship!

To readers that haven't read For Destiny and Friendship, I suggest going to my profile and checking it out. This story will most likely refer to D&F at times, and it would be helpful to know what's going on. Also, D&F and this story are AU from the finale, so it would benefit you to read my version of the ending.

As for this story, the first few chapters will be setting up the plot, but no worries, there will be plenty of adventure and magic later on! Also, this one will be larger than D&F, and I will probably be updating it every two weeks, instead of one. College is getting pretty busy, but I will try and update regularly.

Thanks again to all those who reviewed, followed, or favorited D&F, and I hope you like the sequel just as much! Please continue to let me know what you think!

Without further ado, I present, Of Enemies and Allies!

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin.

"Rise and shine!" Arthur's cheery voice broke through the silent chambers.

"Wha—Arthur?" Merlin mumbled into his pillow, eyes shut tight against the sunlight now streaming in from the windows.

It had been just over a month since the feast and Arthur's announcement revoking the ban on magic. While the citizens of Camelot were mostly receptive to the change, the king and his warlock still battled the prejudice Uther's reign built—especially among the council. After days of demanding meetings, Gwen decided to give the men something positive to focus on. One evening, the queen suddenly declared it improper to keep their Court Sorcerer in the small storage space of the Court Physician, and quickly took it upon herself to research the history of Camelot's Court Sorcerer and their accommodations. To her delight, Gwen discovered papers detailing that the long abandoned south tower had been used by generations of Court Sorcerers as a place to live and collect magical relics and books. She relayed her findings to her husband, and he happily agreed to furnish the tower for their beloved warlock. Merlin, although at first he claimed he didn't need a different room, was quite pleased to find that the tower was situated between the king's chambers and those of the Court Physician. He accepted his friends' generous gift, and the cleaning began right away. It was hard work, emptying the tower, but with a few long days, and a few handy cleaning spells, the rooms were ready to fill.

Arthur had also ordered all magical relics and books previously hidden in the vaults into Merlin's care and study. The warlock didn't have much to his name, but he found ways to infuse the room with character. Now, the chambers felt similar to the Physician's tower, filled to the brim with magical artifacts, drying herbs, and all sorts of experimental equipment. Of course, Merlin had made his own personal contributions and placed the magic book Gaius had given him beside his father's carved dragon in his study. But once the rooms were completed, Merlin had been uneasy; it was hard living on his own, without Gaius.

After a few weeks had passed, though, Merlin found that he was getting used to it, and quite liked the peace and quiet. That is, until a certain royal prat saw it as his duty to interrupt this peace and quiet.

"What are doing?" He mumbled, looking at his king with tiny slits of kaleidoscopic blue.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Arthur leaned back against the wall, apple in hand.

"It looks like you're eating an apple that was sitting on my dining table." Merlin muttered, sitting up in bed and stretching his arms out with a yawn.

Arthur stopped mid-bite, before he smirked, and continued eating. "Well, my original intention was to come and wake you up—the apple was an added bonus."

"Isn't that my job?"

"What, stealing food?" Arthur raised an eyebrow,

"No, you clotpole, waking you up!"

To the surprise of the castle's inhabitants, Merlin had asked to retain some of his servant duties after his promotion to Court Sorcerer. These mostly included duties that were part of his morning routine, though thankfully, someone else had been hired to muck out the king's stables and to do his laundry. At first, Arthur had adamantly refused the warlock's request, saying Merlin deserved more, and that his new status of nobility and position as Court Sorcerer did not include that kind of labor. But Merlin pushed. He argued that, as Court Sorcerer, he would be following Arthur around just as much as he used to, and could easily accomplish his previous tasks as well as his new ones.

Besides, Merlin had given him a cheeky grin, and told the king that he'd soon miss his unique wake-up style. This was proven to be fact, when, after only a few days without "manservant" Merlin, Arthur realized how much he missed the cheery "rise and shine!" He quickly became annoyed with the timid and efficient boot-lickers who quietly cleaned his chambers and served him heaping breakfasts in bed. And so, Arthur eventually agreed to Merlin's demands, secretly happy to keep a part of their old relationship. Though if it ever came up between him and the knights, Arthur would attempt to save face and say that by keeping their morning arrangement the same, he was, according to Merlin, just saving the life of some other servant.

Merlin chucked a pillow at the king. "Why are you here, really? You're never up this early."

Arthur sidestepped, letting the projectile collide with the wall.

"Actually, I'm here because of Guinevere."

"Gwen?" Merlin's curiosity bubbled into the word. "Why?"

"She's decided that your position requires some new attire appropriate to your status. That new wardrobe of yours apparently needs plenty of filling."

"But I like my clothes," Merlin pouted, his eyes going to the neckerchief on his nightstand.

Arthur snorted. "Well she was quite adamant, so naturally, I agreed. She's going to come by to have you measured."

The warlock groaned, flopping back onto the mattress.

Arthur chuckled, "I'm not sure of the time, but I thought I would come here to warn you."

"Oh yes, Sire, so thoughtful of you."

It was then that a faint knock sounded at the door, the sound travelling up into Merlin's bedroom.

"Ugh, it's too early for this." Merlin pulled back the covers, and placed his feet on the ground beside the bed. Eyes flashing gold—Arthur assumed he had opened the tower door, the warlock called down to his visitors, "We'll be down in a minute!"

The king picked up the pillow that had been thrown earlier, and launched it back at his former servant. Merlin's eyes glowed, and the blue cushion stopped mid-air, before falling onto the bed.

"Nice try."

Arthur shrugged, watching as Merlin disappeared behind a dressing screen. After a few moments the warlock reappeared, his usual trousers and tunic replacing his nightclothes. He grabbed his neckerchief, and then joined Arthur as he made his way to the stairs.

The Court Sorcerer's tower was composed of a main chamber, a back room, and a lower and upper level. The main chamber was situated much like Arthur's, with a divided curtain and pillars for support. Merlin used the back half for a place to cook and experiment with different potions, and the room's front portion for a dining and living space, furnished with a dining table and a few wing-backed chairs for reading the plentiful supply of books that occupied the wall of bookcases.

The back room was also where a staircase spiraled into the floor and ceiling, leading down to a room Merlin used for storing magical items, and leading up to Merlin's bedroom—and from where the king and his advisor were currently appearing.

As the two men descended the staircase, they found Gwen setting a vase of fresh flowers on the table.

"Good morning Merlin. I see Arthur came to warn you," Gwen greeted merrily, giving the warlock a hug, "or watch you get pricked like a pincushion, more likely."

"Of course not!" Arthur protested, his lips twitching upward into a smile.

The warlock glared at his king, but his eyes gave away his amusement. "You know Arthur, he'll do anything to avoid George."

Gwen laughed, the happy sound echoing through the room.

Now, it was Arthur's turn to glare.

"I am not avoiding him!"

"Don't listen to him Merlin, George came to wash the floor this morning, and it got Arthur out of bed faster than if someone had rung the warning bells!"

Merlin chuckled. "You know, Sire, George doesn't bite."

"No, but he's the driest man I've ever met. There's nothing but polishing tricks, and 'please the king, please the king,' going on between his ears."

"Arthur!" Gwen slapped her husband across the chest.

"Guinevere, he makes jokes about brass." He huffed indignantly.

The queen's shocked expression melted, turning into a smile. "I know, I've heard them all as well. But you shouldn't be rude."

Merlin watched as Arthur snapped his jaw shut, knowing this was the end of the conversation on his bootlicking manservant—even if he was still thinking about it.

Gwen cleared her throat, determination lighting her eyes as she straightened her back, "In any case, Merlin, I'm here because you need some new clothes. I know your wardrobe is barely filled, and so it's high time we fix that." Gwen looked to her husband, "We can't have our Court Sorcerer walking around in servants attire, now can we Arthur?"

Arthur's lips turned up slightly, but he replied in steady tone, "Of course not."

"Alright then, we'll just get this started; the sooner we finish the sooner you two can be off doing whatever you need to be doing." Gwen turned and motioned to an individual behind her whom both Merlin and Arthur had failed to notice.

"Ok Millie, time to work your magic!" The queen encouraged, her choice of words earning a smile from Merlin.

Millie stepped forward and winked at the warlock, "I'm not sure if what I do can be compared to something as exciting as magic, but by the end, you'll have some much nicer clothes, that much I can guarantee."

Unlike many of the servants and townsfolk who gave Merlin a wide berth when he was around them, Millie approached easily, giving a quick bow to Arthur and a respectful nod to Merlin. She set down her bag and small wooden stool. Pulling a few things from her supplies, Millie glanced up, her eyes flickering to the stationary warlock.

"Take your shirt off and step up here, please," the seamstress pointed to the stool. Arthur tensed at the request, a defense for his friend perched on the tip of his tongue, while Gwen's lips twitched into a frown, her eyes shining with something between guilt and sympathy.

Merlin squirmed uncomfortably, his hands playing with the hem of his tunic. He sighed and slowly pulled the shirt over his head, stepping onto the stool after it was off. Millie drew a few more items from her bag and then turned to look at her subject before she let out a sound somewhere between a squeak and a gasp.

Arthur frowned. He knew Merlin hid his scars not only because it made him uncomfortable, but also to spare those around him. Although they were no longer new to Arthur, every time he saw the white lines and marks that marred the warlock's flesh, a fierce wave of protectiveness surged through him. If he could help it, his brother's body wouldn't have any more scars added to it.

Merlin glanced down at Millie sympathetically, motioning for her to get to work. She nodded, silently grabbing the tape measure. Her moves were hesitant at first, but gradually Millie's prowess in her profession came through, and she measured Merlin's toned frame with swift accuracy. Arthur watched as his friend's tense muscles slowly began to loosen. It was only natural for Merlin to feel uncomfortable, as he had only ever taken his shirt off in the company of select and close friends; nevertheless, Arthur wished that it wasn't so. After all, the warlock's scarred flesh was a true testament to Merlin's sacrificial and selfless nature, and it hurt Arthur to see others react to that sacrifice the way that Millie had.

"So, what's on today's schedule?" Arthur asked, attempting to lighten the situation and distract the fidgeting warlock.

Merlin saw the question for what it was, but he answered anyway. "Well, there's training with the knights, the council meeting—"

Arthur groaned, throwing up his hands in annoyance. He turned, and flopped, in a rather un-kingly manner, into one of Merlin's chairs. "I swear the council was only created to make my mornings a nightmare."

Merlin chuckled, but, remembering where he was, he stilled, not wanting to be pricked with pins. "I'm sure they feel the same way, Sire."

Arthur's lips pulled into a smile, the king no doubt thinking about the arguments that had occurred in the council chambers—especially in the last month alone. He was definitely pushing the patience of his "advising" council.

Arthur waved his hand, dismissing the thoughts from his mind. "Alright, go on, what else is planned?"

"Nothing else I'm aware of; we have the afternoon free. So if you want to take a ride, look at the battlements, inspect the knights, whatever. It's up to you, though I do think Leon wanted to talk with you about adding to the knights' ranks."

The king's hand moved to rest underneath his chin, leaning on the chair's arm. "Ok, I'll have to speak with him about that. I was thinking about it myself, actually."

He looked up at his friend, who now sported a loosely pinned-together shirt. "Merlin, would it be possible for you to oversee some magical training?"

Merlin's wide eyes left Millie's hands and focused on his king. "What? I mean, well—sure, I don't see why not. What did you have in mind?"

Arthur's eyebrows knit in concentration. "I was thinking that it would be a good idea if we started to branch out a bit. If we need more men to knight, we should broaden our qualifications—maybe even start a guard of sorcerers."

A grin spread across the warlock's face. "Arthur, that's a great idea!"

"I figured you'd like it." Arthur's eyes shined with the possibilities of the suggestion, his lips turning upward in a small smile. "I think it will go a long way in proving that I was serious when I lifted the ban. I get the feeling that people think I am just waiting for sorcerers to reveal themselves so I can weed them out and revoke it." The king ended with a sigh, his gaze growing slightly dimmer at the implications.

"Appointing a Court Sorcerer wasn't enough?" Gwen scoffed, her anger with the castle gossip showing in her stiff posture and tilt of her hips. "If people ever looked beyond their own noses they'd see that magic can be good, and that Camelot will benefit from repealing the ban."

Arthur nodded, his own frustration making it hard for him to speak. Across the room on the stool, Merlin was frowning, for once failing to hide his annoyance. But his scowl quickly melted, and with a sigh, the warlock's features became a reflection of his exhaustion. He was tired of the doubts, and gossip, and condemning stares.

Arthur couldn't help but feel upset over Merlin's predicament. How must it feel to be gawked at? To be hated by those who only knew one piece of your identity? Or even worse, to be hated by those who you could once call a friend; shunned as soon as the secret was out and you became something more in their eyes?

The king took a deep breath, and tried to pull away from the depressing conversation, "I'll have a word with Leon today, see what he thinks."

Merlin's contemplative gaze latched back onto Arthur, and he shook his head in agreement, not knowing what else there was to say on the matter. The warlock clearly felt antsy about it all, just as Arthur did: the problems they would be facing if the project was ever brought off the ground, as well as the disputes it would likely cause. His unease wasn't just mental, or of the kind that only Arthur's bond could determine—it made its appearance in Merlin's inability to stand still. Millie noticed the increase in her subject's fidgeting, but took it as boredom.

"Stop squirming," the seamstress pushed one of the pins deeper into the fabric than necessary, earning a yelp from the fidgeting warlock, "I'm almost finished."

"Sorry Millie." Merlin grumbled, but the seamstress had managed to distract his thoughts from turning any grimmer.

Silence reigned for the next few minutes, with the king and queen content to sit and watch. Then, a sharp knock interrupted the quiet,

"Come in!" Merlin called. He threw an amused smile at his soul-brother, "Not sure I'll ever get used to that."

"I still find it strange at times," Gwen agreed.

A servant appeared from behind the door, carrying a pitcher, and tray of fruit and various meats and cheeses.

"Ah, breakfast!" Arthur announced cheerfully.

Merlin smirked, "You better be careful, Sire, you—"

"Don't even think about calling me fat, Merlin."

"You said it, not m—"

Gwen coughed, glaring at the two men.

"—me." Merlin trailed off, his voice muffled by the fabric Millie was pulling over his head.

They turned their attention back to the young boy, who looked around skittishly, eyes landing on Merlin, before quickly placing the tray on the table and bowing to the royal couple, "Will you be needing anything else, Your Majesties?"

"No, that will be all." Gwen replied kindly, looking up at the servant, "Thank you."

He nodded stiffly, bowing once more before making a hasty retreat through the door.

Arthur frowned, but shook his head, attempting to clear his thoughts. He looked back at Merlin, who was stepping off the stool, once again bare from the waist up.

"Come on Merlin, time to eat!"

The warlock donned his old shirt, and plopped himself into the chair next to Arthur. He grabbed a small slice of bread and a few pieces of meat and cheese, and began to nibble on them, while Millie took a seat in one of the winged chairs, working a needle swiftly through the fabric. Her mind focused on the task at hand, she drifted away from the trio's conversation.

The royals watched as Merlin picked at his food, eating small bites and putting the rest aside. Even though he had just woke, the warlock still looked tired; dark smudges lined his eyes, and his blue gaze seemed to constantly drift away, focused on something in the depths of his thoughts.

Gwen immediately attempted to pull her friend from those thoughts by bringing up memories of the crazy adventures she had shared with Merlin and Arthur. Slowly, his reserved nature dissolved, and Gwen watched as he smiled, joining in the conversation over their breakfast. Unfortunately, his food remained relatively untouched. Then again, even as a servant, Merlin had never eaten much either.

By the time they finished eating, Arthur had diverted the conversation to legal matters. Recently, as a part of a negotiation between Essetir and Camelot, Arthur had gained a few of the border towns that King Lot labeled unimportant to his kingdom. One of these small towns included Ealdor, of which Merlin was extremely grateful. To Arthur's knowledge, Merlin had already sent home half of his wages, and had helped Arthur in any way he could with gathering the provisions for his people.

Their conversation on the agreement went on for some time, until Millie rose from her chair and approached the table.

"There. Here's the first tunic and some trousers," Millie handed the folded garments to the warlock, "I'll have plenty more by the end of the week."

Merlin smiled gratefully, and switched his shirt for the new one. The fabric and cut were both of better make, and Millie, Arthur, and Gwen couldn't help but notice the improvement from the warlock's shapeless attire. Unlike his threadbare tunic, the new one clung to Merlin's toned frame, making him look much less like the gangly servant he used to be.

Content with her finished product, the seamstress made quick work of packing up her equipment, said her farewell, and departed.

Now alone, Gwen bent down and rummaged through a bag Merlin hadn't noticed before.

"I almost forgot!" Gwen took a package out from the basket and handed it to Merlin. He stared at it, not moving.

"Well, go on—open it," she prompted.

His face a mask of confusion, Merlin nodded. His long fingers pulled at the string, and hesitantly pushed away the brown paper. The warlock paused, his hands hovering over the now-visible gift. His gaze shot up, locking with Gwen's.

"I-I, Gwen..." Merlin's answer came out softly, as if his breath had been taken away by the queen's kind gesture. Dropping the wrapping paper, the warlock was left with a beautifully made, red neckerchief. "I don't know what to say. Thank you," he murmured.

"There's nothing to say. After all you've done, you deserve a little spoiling," Gwen said fondly, "I've asked Millie to make a few more, as well."

The warlock stood, neckerchief still clasped in his hands, and embraced the queen.

Arthur watched the two most important people in his life with pride. The last month had included some drastic changes, but some things would always remain the same.

Merlin pulled back, a genuine smile on his face. He looked down at the gift, and slipped his hands to the end of the fabric, his nimble fingers making quick work of tying the neckerchief at the familiar place around his throat.

"Look at that, Merlin, we may make a noble out of you yet," Arthur chuckled.

The Once and Future King and Emrys smiled at each other, content to enjoy the moment of friendship.

Maybe the day wouldn't turn out to be too bad after all.

"Absolutely not!" Lord Hale thundered, "You cannot possibly think that raising taxes would help them—the outlying villages just came under our control!"

"How else do you suppose we provide the money to rebuild t—"

"Certainly not taxes!"

"You'll be bankrupting them, not helping them!" Lord Alden cried.

"We'll only be bankrupting ourselves!"

Lord Godfrey huffed, "There is plenty of money in the treasury, Lord Ulfric, there's no need to be so stingy."

The aforementioned lord's cheeks turned a bright red, "Are you calling me s—"

"Well, so much for an orderly meeting," Merlin sighed, leaning towards his king.

Arthur rolled his eyes, As if orderly was ever a description that could be used for council meetings, he thought with frustration. They always ended in a shouting match.

"GENTLEMEN!" Arthur pounded his fists onto the table, his voice filled with stern authority. "Can we not just discuss things in an organized manner? Shouting will get us nowhere."

The king sighed as silence filled the hall, "Now, Lord Ulfric, what is your opinion on the funds for rebuilding the defenses of the border towns?"

"I believe that raising their taxes will provide us with the money for the outposts, Sire."

Merlin glanced at the Lord, opening his mouth to speak, but hesitated, before suddenly closing it.

"Merlin?" Arthur asked, seeing his friend's movement,

The warlock turned his gaze to his sovereign, "I don't think that would be any benefit." His voice rang with a quiet confidence, "These towns are supplying our food, and storing some for themselves—they don't have enough money to provide for their families and an increase in taxes."

Ulfric leaned towards the lord beside him, muttering a few words before he straightened, and bluntly addressed the warlock. "I see no reason why your opinion matters. It certainly doesn't concern your area of… expertise."

Arthur bristled, "Actually, Lord Ulfric, it concerns Merlin more than any of us. He grew up in Ealdor, one of the newly acquired towns that we are currently discussing. His opinion holds just as much weight as yours—"

The large doors of the council chamber groaned, silencing the current argument as all eyes moved their attention to the intruders.

"What is it now!" Arthur groaned, his hands splayed out on the table in exasperation. He was quickly losing his patience after spending the last hour arguing with the council.

A guard came forward, but then hesitated for a moment, unsure of the royal's mood. "Sire, we caught this Druid sneaking through one of the side doors of the castle. He says he needs to speak with the king."

The guard stepped to the side as two more men entered the room, a cloaked figure between them. The knights then stopped before the foot of the table and waited for Arthur to respond.

The king sighed, but nodded for the guards release their grip on the Druid's arms. They moved back, but their hands rested on the hilts of their swords, ready to protect their king if necessary.

Now unconstrained, the Druid bowed at the waist, first to Arthur, and then, to the council's surprise, Merlin.

"Your Majesty. Emrys."

The aforementioned warlock flushed, still uncomfortable with the obvious deference. Arthur's lips pulled up into a small smile, but he quickly cleared his throat to hide the emotion. His kingly façade in place, Arthur addressed the Druid.

"What is your name?"

"Cadan, Sire," the Druid was antsy, moving his weight from foot to foot. Merlin shifted in his chair, the Druid's nerves pricking the back of his mind, as the thoughts of untrained sorcerers often did when they were close enough to the warlock. He cocked his head to the side slightly, his hands playing with the fabric of his new tunic. Merlin was trying not to let Cadan's nervousness affect him, but he had his magic ready, just in case the nerves were more than just about speaking in front of the king.

"And what was it you needed to speak to me about, Cadan."

He paused for a moment, eyes scanning the rest of the councilmen with unease.

"These are trusted men. You can speak freely here." Arthur prodded.

Cadan nodded slowly, then, looking at Merlin, he continued.

"Amongst the clans, it is said that one of the high-ranking sorcerers of Morgana's men has taken over as her successor. Recently, he has been visiting the nearby clans requesting the strongest of sorcerers. It is assumed that he is building an army."

"Has he had any success in recruiting these clans?" Merlin asked, eyes shining with a calculated gaze. He turned his head, sharing an uneasy glance with Arthur.

"Only rogues, my lords, those who have abandoned their people and the prophecy. The clans as a whole will only side with Emrys and the Once and Future King." Passion filled Cadan's voice, spilling over into Merlin's mind in waves.

A few murmurs reached the king and his advisor. While both subjects of the prophecy were smiling at the Druids' faith, the councilmen still carried their prejudice and suspicions. The mistrust of magic was still at the heart of the kingdom, even if Merlin had demonstrated pure magic time after time.

Arthur clenched his jaw at the unfairness of it. He was the king; he shouldn't have to tolerate the blasted narrow-mindedness of the lords. He took a calming breath to ensure that his stoic mask was still in place.

"I am humbled by your people's loyalty, Cadan." Arthur's head tilted upward in a confident image of authority, "just as I am honored by your willingness to forgive my former actions against your kind."

Merlin beamed proudly at his king. Arthur's acceptance of the Druid's allegiance and of his prophetical name were only small pieces of their Destiny, and yet, Merlin couldn't help the rush of joy that ran down his spine. Things were truly changing in Camelot.

The Druid accepted the words with a nod, but his eyes shone with the fiery emotion that filled his earlier declarations.

"But I am afraid I bring more bad tidings, Sire…" Cadan's shoulders slumped, "there are whispers of a siege on Camelot, and that it will happen soon."

Silence followed. Now there was no doubt to where the enemy would come.

"Do you know when they plan on arriving?" Arthur took a deep, frustrated breath. He and Merlin had discussed the idea of a vengeful sorcerer attacking Camelot, but with the anti-sorcery laws having been repealed, most of the smaller assassination attempts had all but disappeared; however, Merlin had brought up Morgana's followers during many late night chats with the king. Now, it seemed their worries were coming to fruition.

"I regretfully do not, Sire. I apologize. This is all the information my camp has heard on Morgana's followers. But our clan seers have been talking about a battle for quite a few weeks; they say dark times are coming. There's a chill in the air, as if magic itself is on alert."

A dark and serious cloud descended on the council members as though to match the Druid's words. Arthur glanced at Merlin, did he feel this chill as well?

The warlock met his friend's gaze and nodded softly. Merlin knew all too well the feeling of what Cadan had mentioned. He had felt uneasy for the past few days, although he had been unsure as to why. Merlin mentally kicked himself for not having paid attention to his magic's warning.

"However, I also come on behalf of my people." Hope edged into the words of the visitor, pulling the room's occupants out of their distraught slump, "In three days time, a Druidic assembly will take place—representatives from dozens of clans will be there to discuss the threat of Morgana's successor, as well, I admit, to discuss Camelot's new stance on magic." Cadan paused to pull a scroll from inside his cloak. The knights behind him stiffened, and tightened their grips on their swords, but Arthur waved them off. Cadan smiled gratefully and continued. "Our world has been abuzz with talk of the Golden Age of Albion, my lords, and we wish to help in any way we can." The Druid placed the scroll on the table in front of Arthur and Merlin. The king reached for the document, and rolled it open gently. His brow furrowed. The neat marks on the page swirled in an intricate collection of symbols—the language of the Old Religion.

Merlin, smirked, and pulled the scroll closer to himself. His eyes scanned the parchment before he looked up at Cadan, and then to his king. "This is an invitation to the gathering," He said, his eyes alight with excitement. "Arthur, they want us both there to represent Camelot."

Arthur's eyebrows rose in surprise. His eyes latched onto the Druid. "You want us to come to this magical event?"

Cadan nodded. "Yes Sire. Many are hoping you accept. They are looking forward to seeing the subjects of the long awaited prophecies."

The council lords, finally catching on to the request, interjected, "Sire, is that the wisest move? If we know that there is to be a siege on Camelot, wouldn't the best course of action be to remain in the citadel? After all, your leadership, and Lord Emrys'-ah, protection are what give Camelot a fighting chance against these sorcerers."

Merlin winced at the sarcastic usage of his druidic name, especially as it rolled off the tongue of a non-magical being, but he quickly threw up his stoic mask, if only for the sake of Arthur's temper. Had Arthur realized how much that treatment of his title made Merlin uncomfortable, the king would lecture the councilmen until they had been thoroughly educated on Merlin's "sacrifices to the kingdom," and how he deserved more respect than the entire lot of "noble-blooded and entitled clotpoles" that sat at this table. Yes, Merlin could see Arthur handling that situation well.

The king, however, must have sensed some of Merlin's discomfort, as he frowned, addressing the speaker. "Merlin is the reason for the invitation, Lord Ulfric, and so, I must disagree. This Druid assembly is the best place to learn more about these threats, as well as to establish a better relationship with our new allies. It is the wisest move that can be made in these situations." Arthur's tone of voice left no room for disagreement, and so, the councilmen turned their eyes to the table, cowed.

"It is decided. Merlin, some of the knights, and I will accompany Cadan to the assembly. We will gather information on what we are up against, and see what can be done to prepare for a possible magical siege." Arthur concluded, signifying the close of the meeting, "Queen Guinevere will be in charge in my absence."

"Thank you, Your Highness, my people will be as much help as we can." Cadan smiled, but his eyes strayed to Merlin's, glinting with worry. "Be careful Emrys, for there are dark times ahead for you and your king."

The warlock acknowledged the Druid's warning with a solemn nod, but he was quickly interrupted by a playful punch to the shoulder. Arthur's small smile showed his pleasure at the magical invitation, and so, Merlin plastered a grin on his face, not wanting to ruin the historic moment for his brother.

As the council members, chattering like a bunch of gossiping maids, pushed back their chairs to leave, determination steeled Merlin's resolve.

No matter what they faced, he would protect his king, like always.

It would be both easier and more difficult to do so, now that the king and his warlock were a united force, but Merlin would ensure Arthur's safety.

Whatever it took.

AN:

That's it for now! Please leave reviews and let me know what you think! If I find time to update early I will, but for now, the next update will be on or before October 31st.

Until then,

Mirror