Disclaimer: I do not own / hold the rights to the TV show Merlin. This is purely for entertainment purposes.

Please note this story contains SPOILERS up to Season 3 episode 8 'The Eye of the Phoenix'. Beyond that, sit back, relax and enjoy!

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Chapter 1: A Quest

Morgana had declared war against Camelot. Not that this was a new thing, no, Morgana had been trying to kill Uther for a while now. No, the difference was that she had now set her sights on Arthur. She'd decided he was fair game, a target in their little war that was going on behind the royals backs, and it was taking everything Merlin had to keep the prince out of harms way. Morgana knew it too, and was gleefully watching him run himself into the ground.

Merlin stifled another yawn, as he dragged his feet toward Arthur's room. He'd spent the whole night thwarting another attempt on the crown prince's life. This time it was courtesy of a bought off guard, a cursed weapon and, oh yeah, Morgana. Entering Arthur's room, the secret warlock shuffled his way over to the table, carelessly dumping a tray of food he'd been carrying onto the wood surface, and made his way over to the curtains.

With a deep breath, he threw them wide, calling out loudly, "Up and at 'em, you–" His back was to Arthur so he didn't notice the pillow the prince hurled at him until it plowed right into the back of his head. He crashed face first into the window, and with a yell, fell back, clutching his nose. "What was that for!" He glared down at the pillow and then at the prince, who had once more fallen asleep. "Arthur!"

He rose, marching over to the bed, and yanked the prince's covers away. Arthur protested loudly, but Merlin wasn't having any of it. "Up," he snapped, stomping off to pick up the clothes Arthur had strewn everywhere, and giving him the perfect excuse to inspect the room for any of the little surprises Morgana had taken to leaving about.

"You're in a fine mood this morning, I see," Arthur said testily, finally rolling out of his large featherbed. Merlin sent him a withering glare, before returning to his search, missing the concerned frown the prince shot at his back. "Have you actually been to bed, Merlin?"

The secret warlock paused, taking in his own rumpled clothes, the same ones he'd worn yesterday. "No," he said, because there was no way Arthur wouldn't see right through that lie. He hadn't had time to drop by his room for a change of clothes, and… he hadn't wanted to worry Gaius. His guardian was already concerned enough as it was. Merlin didn't want to make it worse.

"And what, exactly, were you doing then?"

He should have known that question would be next. Back still turned to the prince, Merlin shut his eyes for a brief second, which was when a pulse of magic made itself known in the room. His eyes snapped open, zeroing in on the washbasin. There!

"Merlin."

"What?" He glanced back to find Arthur glowering at him. "Oh. I couldn't sleep." He strode across the room, gaze fixed on the water pitcher. Keeping up appearances he fished up a nearby stray sock, before carefully examining the tainted object. He didn't dare try to touch the finely crafted metal, not after the last spell had nearly taken his hand off.

Ha, that hadn't been fun. He'd been forced to explain to Arthur why his favourite belt was suddenly no more. Thankfully Arthur had bought his lie, but hadn't taken the crack about his weight well. He'd retaliated by doubling Merlin's workload, and as of yet, had not returned it to normal, but Arthur was still alive, so… yeah. Merlin just wished there were less chores involved.

Behind him, Arthur flopped down into a chair to start his breakfast. Good. Merlin knew the table, at least, was clear of nasty curses. The subtle enchantment of protection he'd cast on the breakfast platter would go a long way to keeping Arthur safe too.

Hopefully it would also give him time to break whatever spell Morgana had placed on the water pitcher. Shifting carefully so that his back was fully set to Arthur, and shuffling the pile of laundry he was holding to one arm, Merlin drew a deep breath. Arthur was as distracted as he could be, his breakfast tended to do that.

It was now or never.

Cautiously he stretched his hand out to hover before the pitcher and with a flash of gold in his eyes, he began to coax Morgana's spell gently away from the object she'd attached it to. It was something he'd been playing with recently, coaxing a fully formed spell away from an object. It was dangerous, but so far, it was the only way Merlin knew how to get a better read on spells that had already been cast. It was his best chance at finding the counter, and saving the poor little pitcher Morgana had chosen as her victim.

"Merlin, you idiot!" He jumped at the prince's shout, and Morgana's spell snapped back into the metal, activating. Oh bloody– "Explain this!" Merlin didn't turn. The water inside the metal pitcher began to froth, quickly rising to a boil. "MERLIN!"

"What!?" He whirled, only to wince at his own tone. That was just asking for a one way ticket to the stocks. "Um… yes, sire?" He tried again, pressing his back to the dresser to hide the pitcher from sight, trying to ignore the way it was starting to hiss ominously.

Arthur, none the wiser to the peril, pointed at his breakfast plate. "What is this?"

Merlin only spared it the briefest of glances. "Your breakfast."

Oh, if looks could kill, Morgana would be a happy, happy person. "And why exactly does it look like you've run it over with a horse?"

"Uh…" Because Morgana had developed an alarming love for poisons, and Merlin had been a little panicked as he'd checked Arthur's breakfast that morning. He was still trying to figure out the safest disposal method for the contaminated pieces hidden in his pockets. He swallowed, glancing back at Arthur. "I tripped?" Behind him the hissing began to change into an ominous whistle.

Arthur gave the plate a disgusted look, shoving it away. "And you expect me to eat this!? Take it back, and try again." He got up from the table, turning away from his manservant.

Merlin didn't think twice. He dropped Arthur's laundry, and grabbed the cursed pitcher. It shuddered in his hands as he bolted for the door, tripping over one of Arthur's stray shirts. He stumbled, biting back a yelp as he accidently sloshed a small amount of the liquid over his hand, but his didn't stop. He raced out into the corridor, shouting over his shoulder, "Right away, sire!" before the prince could even draw breath to yell at him again.

Merlin tore down several more passageways, gritting his teeth as his hand began to burn in earnest. Whipping around a corner, he ducked into an empty alcove, cursing colourfully under his breath. He dropped the pitcher, nearly missing the small delicate table he'd been aiming for, but his hand couldn't take it anymore. Swearing again, he shook his hand out, hissing as it continued to sting.

What had she done to it?

Nervously he eyed the cursed object. The whole pitcher was vibrating now, and wailing like one of Gaius's kettles. Dammit it all. Glancing worriedly back at the main hallway, Merlin knew he had to shut the thing up before someone came to investigate.

Gaius was going to kill him if he ever found out about this.

Reaching out with his burnt hand, Merlin once more pulled at the enchantment placed upon the pitcher. The metal rattled, spilling the hissing liquid down its sides. The whole pitcher looked ready to shake itself apart. It took more coaxing this time to get the spell to lift away from the metal, revealing itself as a visible green glow, like a mist, hovering around the container.

Merlin's breath caught. Morgana had gone all out this time with her magic. This had to be the hardest enchantment she'd cast yet. Her skill was improving by leaps and bounds.

A cold feeling settled over Merlin. Things… couldn't go on like this. They wouldn't. Something was going to give, and Merlin feared it wouldn't be in his favour.

Too tired to use any finesse, he tore away the enchantment, crushing it with his own magic. The pitcher reacted violently, crumpling in on itself like it was made of parchment, trapping the liquid inside. With a final wheezing hiss the whole thing went silent. Merlin sighed, closing his eyes. Today, he realized with misery, was going to be a long day.

He yanked his neckerchief off, wrapping it around his injured hand, and with a bit of difficulty he managed to tie it in place. He would have to remember to get Gaius to look at it later. Picking up the trashed pitcher gingerly, Merlin turned back to the hallway with a sigh. Now he had another thing he needed to dispose of carefully. Great.

A warlock's work was never done it seemed.

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Breezing back into Arthur's room without knocking, Merlin brandished the new plate of food before him, a cheeky quip on his lips– and froze when he saw who was sitting with Arthur at his small table. Morgana smiled sweetly back at him, her expression daring him to say anything. Merlin snapped his mouth shut.

Morgana's gaze shifted, locking onto the cloth wrapped around his hand. "Arthur," she said in an admonishing voice, "what are you doing to your poor servant?"

Arthur abruptly turned in his chair, leaving his back entirely exposed to Morgana as he faced Merlin. The witch's eyes sparkled dangerously. Merlin tensed, hand tightening around the platter he was holding. He'd throw it at her if he had to.

Arthur's brow furrowed. "What happened to your hand?"

Behind the prince's back, Morgana's expression turned to vicious glee, no doubt, recognizing the work of her cursed pitcher. "You know me," Merlin tried to say lightly, not taking his eyes off Morgana for a second. "Clumsiness and kitchens don't really mix nicely."

A look past over Arthur's face, one Merlin wasn't really sure how to read. He was, however, far too familiar with the prince's next expression: prattish face number two.

Yup, it was going to be a super long day.

"Really Merlin, you should be more careful." Arthur turned back to the table, and to Morgana, who had schooled her expression to an appropriate look of concern again.

Merlin suppressed a grimace. Why was she even here? He stepped forward, setting the new platter of food down in front of Arthur, before moving back the bare minimum distance he could get away with. Normally he would have gone about cleaning the room again, but there was absolutely no way he was leaving the two of them sitting there alone.

Morgana, content now to ignore him, gracefully rose to her feet. "Will you think about what I said, Arthur?" She acted nervous, wringing her hands together, and setting off all sorts of alarm bells in Merlin's head.

Arthur, for his part, was completely taken in by the act. "You have my word, Morgana."

She tried to smile, the expression faulting and watery. Merlin would have believed it too, had, in fact, once. That felt so long ago now. Sometimes he wondered how things had changed so much, but then he remembered his own hand in it. The guilt still ate at him.

Gracefully Morgana walked to the door. Merlin followed her, making sure she didn't decide to curse anything else on the way out, but her hands remained at her sides. She didn't even spare him a glance, simply exiting, her purpose served, whatever it had been. Dread began to bubble up inside Merlin, even as he watched her walk away.

Once her steps had faded, Merlin rounded on Arthur. "What did she want?" He tried to keep the edge out his voice, restraining the urge to check the whole room again.

Arthur glowered at him. "Really Merlin, that's none of your business."

"Of course not," Merlin said with sarcasm. "Because Morgana always visits you first thing in the morning over breakfast."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Oh. And you feel entitled to know, now?" The prince's expression darkened. "Keep your nose out. That's an order." He returned to his breakfast, a clear dismissal.

Sullenly Merlin went back to cleaning up the room. Whatever was going on, it was troubling enough to leave Arthur in deep thought. He wondered if he should pity the prince's poor brain. All that work.

Merlin grimaced. Even in his head his jokes were falling flat. He shot another glance at Arthur. There was no way he could push any further though. He had a nice long record of avoiding to the stocks (despite a few close calls), and he didn't particularly feel like breaking that streak. Grabbing up the dirty clothes he'd dropped earlier he started putting together a basket of things that needed washing.

Arthur didn't even seem to notice the unnatural silence that hung over the room as Merlin continued to work. Which left the warlock to stew in his own thoughts as he helped Arthur get ready for the day. The silence was only broken once, briefly, when Arthur gave out the long list of chores Merlin was to do, saying he would be off dealing with other matters. The prince left soon after, leaving Merlin to his own devices.

Alone, Merlin took the chance to inspect the rest of the room, making sure Morgana hadn't left any further surprises. It took a full hour before Merlin was satisfied the room was clear, which was good because a quiet and urgent knock came not even a second later at the door. He looked up, surprised, about to call out that Arthur wasn't in, when the door opened and Gwen slipped hastily inside, shutting the door just as quickly behind her.

Merlin immediately sprang to his feet, quickly striding toward her. "Gwen? What is it?"

She hurried to meet him, if anything, her own steps quicker. "Morgana's planning something."

The dread he'd been feeling since Morgana's visit increased tenfold. "She was here earlier, talking to Arthur. Gwen, do you know what she's up to?"

Gwen shook her head. "No." She began ringing her hands together. "We have to tell Arthur."

"Tell him what?" Merlin was trying not to panic. "We don't even know what she's doing!"

"But if we don't tell him something before he leaves–"

"What!?"

Gwen was taken aback. "Arthur's assembling a squad of knights down in the courtyard–"

Merlin took off running. Out the door and down the passage, going as fast as his legs would carry him. He weaved around knights, dodging servants as he made a mad dash for the stairs. He stumbled down the steps without an ounce of grace, nearly falling flat on his face at the bottom. Then it was down the hall, before he burst out into the courtyard.

"Arthur!" He rocketed across the flagstones, drawing the prince attention as he came to a screeching halt beside him. For a moment, Merlin was bent double, trying to catch his breath. The horse at Arthur's side snorted reproachfully. Finally, when he had enough air, Merlin pushed himself up to face the prince. "What do you think are you doing, Arthur?"

"I could ask you the same thing." Arthur patted his horse, double-checking the buckles on the saddle.

"Arthur–"

"No Merlin, you're not coming."

Merlin narrowed his eyes. "Why not?"

"Because I said so." The prince finally met his gaze, seeing Merlin's sour expression. "Don't give me that look. If you must know, we're only be gone a few hours."

Merlin's eyes darted to the knights starting to gather. "Right. Hours." From the gear the group was packing, it was clear they were going to be gone for several days. Merlin nodded his head sagely. "That's exactly what it looks like."

Arthur gave him a look of annoyance. "Really Merlin, I mean it. You can't come."

"Why not?"

The prince made a sound of exasperation. "Because you already look dead on your feet."

Merlin blinked. Sleep deprived certainly, but he didn't look that bad did he? Wait, wasn't he supposed to retaliate with some kind of witty retort?

Arthur frowned at him.

Darn. Too late.

"You see?" Arthur crossed his arms. "It'll be hard enough watching my own back, I can't look after yours as well, not out there."

"Out where?"

Arthur gave him a very pointed look that said butt out.

Like most of the prince's orders, Merlin ignored it. "If it's that dangerous, that's all the more reason I need to come. Someone needs to keep you safe."

Arthur gave a bark of laughter. "And you think that someone is you?"

Merlin glared. "Yes."

"Merlin, I'm not taking you to chase after Morgana's kidnappers."

Merlin went very still. "Is that what Morgana came to talk to you about earlier?"

"Merlin–"

"No Arthur, listen to me–" Sadly, the rest of the words died on Merlin's lips, as he caught sight of Morgana. She was coming down the stairs from the main door of the castle, her green dress rippling around her in the wind as she slowly came toward them.

Merlin gritted his teeth, turning desperately back to the prince. "Arthur, you can't go."

"I don't need your permission, Merlin."

For a brief moment he felt a flash of anger. Arthur never listened to him when he tried to warn the prince. "Arthur, it's a trap."

"Merlin–"

"Arthur," Morgana called as she came up beside Merlin, who stubbornly held his ground, despite that as a servant he was supposed to make space for her. Well, tough. She'd have to try harder than that.

Morgana turned toward the secret warlock. "Could you give us a moment, please?" Her earnestness seemed so real, that Merlin was alarmed he couldn't see through her deceit.

Then Arthur took matters out of his hands. "Go Merlin."

Merlin still tried to protest.

"I mean it. Go do– whatever it is you do when you're not serving me." Arthur waved his hand dismissing him.

Merlin scowled, affronted. At this rate he might just kill Arthur himself, forget Morgana. Huffing out a breath, he nodded his head once. "Sire." Slowly he stepped away, but Arthur continued to stare at him, making sure he went back into the castle.

Merlin went, ascending the stairs one slow step at a time. He needed a plan. No way was Arthur going out there by himself with only a hand full of knights for protection. Merlin thought about just grabbing a horse and following after the prince, but his tracking skills were lousy. If he didn't get lost, Arthur was more then likely to catch him, and Merlin did not want to imagine what the prince would do to him then.

It was as a knight pushed past him to join the group still gathering in the courtyard that Merlin got one of the stupidest ideas he'd ever had. Made worse, no doubt, because he actually decided to act on it too, but, hey, he was desperate. Besides, it wasn't like Arthur knew his spare armour on sight, right?

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Arthur surveyed his group of knights, scowling at a straggler who was rushing to get his horse ready. Honestly, this was embarrassing. If this was Camelot's finest, than he'd eat Merlin's neckerchief.

This mission was already going to be difficult enough as it was. His father had ordered him to bring back at least one prisoner alive. The rest, were, by the King's words, to find death in the slowest manner possible. Arthur tried to ignore the way his stomach churned. At least he'd spared Merlin. Idiot or not, this wasn't something the servant should be part of. He just hoped the idiot was smart enough to catch up on the rest he clearly needed.

"Arthur?" He blinked, glancing back to find Morgana frowning at him. "Did you hear a word I said?"

"Of course," he lied, smothering his embarrassment. Merlin would have seen right through him, but apparently Morgana didn't.

She nodded, arms wrapped tightly around herself. "Just make sure you kill that thing." She spat the word. "I don't think…" and here she hesitated, "it wasn't natural, Arthur."

And by that she meant magical. Her kidnappers had apparently acquired a magical beast of some sort. Arthur grimaced. "Do you know what it was? How big a creature?"

"I told you I never saw it," she snapped, only to bit her lip. "But the sounds it made…" She shivered. "Only a monster could sound like that."

Arthur nodded, not daring to press further.

She offered a weak smile. "Good luck, Arthur. Be sure to show them what they deserve."

Arthur tried to ignore the shudder that tried to work its way down his back. These men had held her captive for a full year, he should not except any mercy from Morgana in this. But the light in her eyes… it unsettled him.

He nodded once, using the excuse of needing to finish preparations to escape their conversation. Morgana let him go, moving gracefully out of the way of the knights still trying to get organized. Really, they should have been done by now. Gods, they were slower then Merlin.

Arthur glanced back toward the castle. Merlin was no where in sight, likely sulking, the ungrateful idiot. Arthur's eyes drifted back to Morgana who had moved to stand at the top of the steps, seeing the knights off, but her last words still chilled him.

This mission was going to test them, perhaps in more ways than one.

He waited another five minutes to make sure even his straggling knights were ready, before finally giving the call to move out. They all mounted up, and then they off, quickly leaving Camelot behind.

The day was sunny, a promise of good weather. Not a cloud in the deep blue sky. A good day for travel, and a better one for riding. They made good time, stopping briefly on the side of the road for lunch, before Arthur set them off again, continuing their journey until the dwindling light of day finally forced him to call a halt for the night.

As the knights busied themselves setting up camp, Arthur took his time to examine the crude map Morgana had drawn of their destination. If he was reading it right, the enemies' camp was still another good day's ride away.

Arthur sighed, rubbing at his eyes. He wished Morgana had known more about this powerful magical creature the enemy kept. Knowledge of its nature would have gone far in making a decision in how to engage it.

Not that this would be the first time he'd gone up against a monster blind. He just hoped this wasn't going to turn into a repeat of the incident with the questing beast. He shivered. All he knew about this creature was that it– whatever it was– was magical.

Arthur sighed, glancing up at the camp being assembled around him, only to scowl at a knight who was sitting awkwardly beside an empty ring of stones where the fire was going to go. "You," snapped Arthur, making the knight jump. The bucket like helmet swiveled toward him, and even though the prince couldn't see the other's face, he could tell he'd intimidated him. Good. "Go collect some firewood."

With a sharp nod, the knight dashed clumsily off, making Arthur shake his head. The quality of knights really was going down, not that he was surprised. Between Cenred's siege on Camelot, and the dragon's attack of last year, they were still hurting for well trained and experienced knights.

Arthur surveyed the men around him with a critical eye. There was nothing he could do about it though, these men were all he had. Drawing another deep breath, Arthur went about preparing for the evening. A fire was started, and not long after dinner was ready. The group ate together in silence, the knights not at all lively, perhaps because they weren't quite sure how to act with the prince in their midst. Arthur would never admit it in a million years, but he was starting to miss Merlin's incessant prattle.

Things were just… too normal without him, and didn't that sound terrible.

They ended up splitting up guard duty for the night, and Arthur scowled when that bucket headed knight took the shift he'd been about to lay claim to. But he was a prince and it was beneath him to make a scene. So as it was, Arthur got a full night of rest, and though still grumpy in the morning, there was once more, no Merlin to whom he could throw things at as a way to vent. He was surrounded by knights, after all, and was expected to act accordingly.

Arthur's face fell a little more, only to be startled when a bowl of stew was suddenly shoved under his nose. He scowled up at the bucket headed knight who was holding the bowl out to him. The prince took the stew, muttering something that should have been a thank you, before focusing on the fire once more. The knight moved off, helping the rest pack up camp and getting ready to leave. Arthur finished his breakfast quickly, and then they were off.

The day's ride was disturbingly peaceful. Nothing jumped out to stop them, not even a bandit attack, almost like something wanted them to get to Morgana's kidnappers safely, but that was preposterous… right?

It took the whole day to arrive at their destination. Just as evening was setting in, they left the horses back at a clearing, and approached the ruins that Morgana's kidnappers were using as a base. Arthur silently ordered his group of thirteen knights to fan out. He'd already given them strict warnings not to face the monster alone.

With a round of grim nods, they fanned out to surround the ruins. Using the forest for cover, Arthur circled west around the perimeter, searching for a good point of entry. There were no guards posted at the crumbling walls, and from inside, firelight could be seen reflecting off the crumbling stonework, accompanied by the sound of drunken laughter.

Staying low, Arthur began to approach a wall that had fallen away to nothing, only to find that he was being followed. He whirled, sword drawn, only to come face to face with one of his own men. The bucket headed knight stumbled back, hands frantically raised in a peaceful gesture.

Arthur growled, grabbing a fist full of the knight's chainmail with his free hand. "I told you to fan out," he hissed, but there was nothing for it now. He shoved the knight away from him. "Never mind. Come on." He turned to head down the ruined passageway, choosing the direction leading away from the firelight. After a slight pause, the knight followed after him on silent feet. "At least draw your sword."

The bucket head faltered, as though just then remembering about his weapon. He stared at the sheath at his side, before he processed to draw the blade with great haste. Arthur winced at the sound, hoping the enemy was too drunk to hear it. Gritting his teeth, Arthur motioned the knight to follow and off they went again, creeping down the hallway.

It seemed though, that luck was on their side. The hallway he had chosen lead out into a room with a caved in ceiling. In the fading twilight, Arthur could make out a large metal cage on wheels, surrounded by massive chains, all the things that were needed to contain a large beast.

Arthur smiled grimly. They were getting close. The magical monster had to be here somewhere. He stepped out into the room, eyes peeled for any movement. He'd only gone two steps when a string of shouts went up, followed by the unmistakable sound of battle.

Arthur whirled. His knights! Even the bucket headed knight had turned toward the sound. Arthur opened his mouth to give orders, stepping back toward the passageway, when it happened. His foot pressed into the soft soil, dipping deeper then it should have, and with a buzz of energy the earth exploded up around him.

Arthur wasn't really sure what happened next. It felt like something beyond the earth had caught him. Something alive. It enveloped his whole body, chilling him like ice. He could feel it passing through him, tearing at his insides, like it wanted to devour everything that made him who he was.

He cried out, and someone shouted his name in answer, but that couldn't be right, because it sounded like…

"Mer..lin…" he barely managed to utter the name, before he was lost once more.

"Arthur!" Merlin's voice cried again, but he wasn't here. He wasn't–

A real and warm body crashed into him, trying to knock him away from whatever had him trapped. But the power that had him, simply flared and his rescuer was thrown away, tumbling into the grass. The energy squeezed Arthur, and his lungs ached. He was drowning.

And then the person was there again, warm hands pressing against the sides of his face. The power twisted around them both like a northern wind, clawing at their skin, and the warm hands– they weren't enough. He felt cold, like his whole body was made of ice.

"Arthur! Arthur, you've got to hold on!" The warm hands tightened, and the voice began to utter words his ears couldn't make sense of. The cold beneath his skin shuddered, and for a second almost broke. Arthur's eyes fluttered open. The bucket headed knight was before him. But how could that…?

His eyes wandered to the warping air around them. It was glowing with a poisonous light. Was that… magic? The knight was glowing too… a faint aura of gold surrounding him.

Magic…

Arthur's eyes slid shut. The ice was in his veins now, moving with every beat of his heart. It was his blood and soon would be his whole being. His body shook, fingers curling, becoming something more.

"NO!" The warm hands moved, but instead of trying to break the cold he had become, they reached, wrapping around it, coaxing, scooping up as much of the ice as they could and drawing it away.

Abruptly Arthur fell back, crashing onto the ground. He gasped where he lay, feeling the warm air around him as the world continued to tremble. The very earth hummed with a power, growing to a horrifying roar. He flinched, curling away from the sound, the power, and then it exploded. A wave washed past before everything went silent save for a pitiful cry. A body crashed to the ground beside him, a presence of chilled warmth. "Mer…lin…" He reached blindly, but he couldn't see.

Everything was fading away.

"Ar..th…" a choked voice answered.

Darkness overcame him and he knew no more.

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And there you have it, chapter one of what will be a six part story. I started writing this when I was watching season three for the first time, and was like, hey, these characters look really fun and interesting to write. What if Morgana gave Merlin and Gwen a real run for their money in trying to keep Arthur safe? And thus the first spark for this story came to me.

Next time: Merlin finds out what he and Arthur have gotten themselves into. Look forward to Chapter 2: A Curse on Jan 22.

I hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading! Critical critiques are more than welcome.