CAMELOT

Arthur had been awake for hours, but he waited until the early morning sun started to rise before he pushed back his bedroll and stood up. Leon had the last watch before dawn. Arthur nodded at him, the gesture making it clear he wasn't in the mood for any further interaction.

There was a bird perched on Arthur's horse, talons trembling as it balanced precariously on his curiously placid war-beast. "Shoo," Arthur said irritably, waving in the bird's direction.

It blinked its large golden eyes at him, looking vaguely insulted. It stared fearlessly at him as he approached, and only when he was a few feet away did Arthur realize he didn't have a plan for this development.

They stared at each other.

"That's got to be an omen of some kind," Leon said. Arthur jumped. He had forgotten how quietly the knight could move.

Arthur felt the old claws of superstition curl around his heart, then banished them with a growl. "It's just a bird. Get Gwaine to bring it down so we have something to put in our stew tonight."

It squawked indignantly at him, but his mind was already on other things. It was still five days hard ride to Camelot, and he was dreading every moment of it. Once he was back in the walls of his own city, this whole nightmarish mission would become too real.

The stream was a good ten minutes' walk, but Leon knew better than to follow him. If felt odd still, not to have a shadow at his shoulder, complaining and keeping both their minds busy on something other than duty.

He'd be bloody glad when they got out of this forest.

He trudged back to the camp in the same silence, to find the rest of the knights awake, and armored, their horses already packed. Most of the knights had grouped together and were talking quietly, they turned as he approached.

The bird had hopped off the horse and perched on a log next to Gwaine, eating a few pieces of dried meat the knight had torn from his rations. Arthur had never seen him so withdrawn and silent before, but none of them would ever be the same.

"Mount up," he told the group quietly, and they obeyed immediately and without question. No food, barely any rest, but they all thought the same way. Gwaine stood, brushing salt from his breeches.

"Merlin wouldn't let us go on like this," he muttered quietly. Not quietly enough.

"Merlin's dead," Arthur said, his voice suddenly hoarse with the weight of those words. "Get on the damn horse."

###

THE BORDER

SIXTEEN DAYS EARLIER

The old signpost had recently been repainted, the words in old faded red paint traced over with a new, steadier hand. The road was as empty as it had been for the past twenty miles, and overgrown with sweet-smelling plants, a testament to the abandoned bond between Camelot and Aquitane.

Whoever had repainted the sign had also set out a few logs for the knights to rest upon while their horses grazed.

Arthur was already working himself into a huff, mostly out of boredom.

"I told you we'd be early," Merlin reminded him. "But no, we always have to set out at dawn."

Arthur rolled his head on his shoulders, trying to work out a crick that had been drawing a headache for hours. "I am the king, Merlin," he said irritably. "A servant would hardly know the intricacy of a diplomatic meeting."

"If they were going to ambush us, they'd hardly wait until the day of the meeting to do it. In an empty field, after the letter Murdock sent."

"You are unbearably chipper this morning," the king said, looking like he'd quite like to throttle the manservant with his own neckerchief.

"We've never been to a kingdom of magic before," Merlin said.

"And that makes you happy?"

Merlin was saved from answering by Elyans's raised call. "I see a rider!" the knight called to his companions.

They all squinted to the horizon to see that there was indeed a man riding hard and well, his body blending seamlessly with the horse as they flew from between the trees towards Camelot's envoy.

Arthur's guard rearranged themselves as the stranger drew near. He leaned back in the saddle, drawing his horse into a natural trot before slowing even further and drawing up to the post that marked the border of the two kingdoms.

The new arrival had a roguish good-nature about his thin face. The horse he rode was huge and black, and even Arthur eyed it with envy. It was immediately apparent that the man was a full-blooded Aquitani, his wide eyes and thin bladed nose almost a caricature of his people.

The knights barred his progress, keeping the stranger at bay, while still appearing unthreatening. The closer the stranger came, the more Arthur's group had to strain their necks. That was a really big horse.

"Are you the escort Murdoch provided?" Arthur said, and even though his voice was carefully flat. anyone could tell that this would be a grave insult. A king did not send a single soldier to guide another king through his lands, much less a single man in worn travelling clothes.

"Aye," the man said, dismounting and executing an elegant bow in one fluid motion. "A pleasure to meet you, my lord. My name's Jack Trevellar, and it is an honor to meet you, King Arthur Pendragon."

Arthur nodded to accept the greeting. The rest of the knights bowed a little, more out of confusion than respect, but Trevellar took it in his stride. "My, they breed 'em big in Camelot, don't they?" he said, tilting his head back to take in Percival's stature.

"These are the king's guard," Arthur said. "My most loyal and trusted soldiers."

"I have no doubt," Trevellar said with an easy smile. "You look every inch the dragon-slayers we've heard about. Aside from him, of course."

The sudden shift on focus confused Merlin, who realized that Jack Trevallar was now looking in his direction.

"My manservant," Arthur said stiffly. "Merlin."

"Ah, I see," Trevellar said. "There has been precious little communication between our kingdoms. We thought perhaps you would bring your queen, and some nobles who might be persuaded to re-build the old trade routes."

"My Queen rules while I am away, and Camelot's nobles must tend to their lands and people as winter approaches. This visit is to reestablish contact with Murdoch himself. I am sure that when all goes well, we will be able to discuss more specific treaties later."

Trevellar nodded, then bowed acknowledgement. "It is wise to be cautious, your majesty. But pray let us put your mind at rest. I believe our people have been separated for too long already."

"Who are you then?" Leon broke in, unafraid to break convention, "to know the business of our kings?"

"I apologize," Trevellar said, apparently taken aback by this frank phrasing. "I am Jack Trevellar, advisor and personal sorcerer to King Murdoch and the Aquitani people."

The change in the air was immediate, the knights simultaneously slipped their hands to their swords, a few clasping their protective amulets tightly to their chests.

"You're a… a sorcerer?" Arthur asked.

Jack snorted, not seeming to notice how the mood had changed. "The king would hardly send just anyone to guard the king of Camelot. There's plenty between the border and the castle that could cause trouble for even such experienced warriors."

Merlin himself couldn't help but feel a little suspicious. He had not met very many good sorcerers, but they had been hiding who they were so that they could kill his king. To have one so blatantly announce himself, and his intention to guard Arthur just felt… bizarre.

"I scried ahead and saw that you were to arrive earlier than scheduled. Shall we make use of this light? It will still take days to reach the castle, but I believe it will pass quickly as we learn more about each other."

Merlin fought the urge to laugh as Arthur and the knights hesitated. A man just told them that he used magic. That he was an accomplished magician. And he was expecting them to mount up and follow him into unknown territory possibly full of waiting assassins.

"Yes," Arthur said at last. "I daresay we have much to learn of your customs."

Arthur mounted his horse first. Only because Merlin knew him so well did he see the fear on his king's face. This meeting with Murdoch must be more important that the king had let on after the war council. That thought sobered the manservant as he too mounted his spotted gelding and nudged it to follow the king.

But the moment they crossed the post, into the border of the Aquitani kingdom, he almost fell off his horse as a new sense assaulted him. For a moment, he thought he had maybe been hit in the chest, the feeling was so real. But he understood it in an instant, as if someone had whispered it in his ear.

Magic was happy here.

Never before had he thought about magic as feeling anything. He had always treated it like a tool, or like fire he had to keep contained and always under control for fear it might seek a way out.

Now, it nudged at his mind and heart like a puppy blindly seeking its mother's approval. It wanted to leap and bound and play. It wanted to show off.

"Merlin?"

Arthur's voice was tentative, concerned. He looked up to see the group looking at him. The knights uneasiness showed in the way that their horses shifted. Had they felt something? They must have, even if they didn't know what it was. He smiled and nudged his horse into motion. "Sorry," he said.

He could see that Arthur wanted to mutter something about his fluff-brained idiocy, but the king restrained himself in front of Trevellar, who was looking at Merlin with a faint frown creasing the space between his eyebrows.

Merlin gave the stranger what he imagined was a disarming smile. "Sorry," he repeated.

But when Trevellar's frown deepened, his eyes changing focus, Merlin realized with an unpleasant jolt that the man had probably felt the magic react to him. He realized that he too could feel Trevellar's touch with magic, the well within the sorcerer and the tight control that the older man had over the power around him.

His smile faded, his heartbeat suddenly growing loud in his own ears. Would Trevellar expose him here? Now? But eventually Trevellar shrugged, and turned around in the saddle again, leaving Merlin's palms sweating and his stomach rolling.

Nobody seemed to notice anything amiss, and Trevellar said only: "We'll make good time. King Murdoch is most anxious to meet with you."

Perhaps it was Merlin;s unique relationship with magic that gave him the ability to sense Trevellar's power. With this overly-optimistic thought he managed to calm his racing heart as he nudged his horse into motion, following Arthur and the knights into the foreign land.

###

CAMELOT

The damn bird did not go away. It flew above them for the five days of riding, keeping by Gwainee's side but always, constantly staring at Arthur, it's head cocked, vocalizing harsh shrieks at random intervals.

It was deeply unsettling, and maddening but Gwaine refused to let anyone touch the bird. "Avis," he called it, a name that it answered to almost like a dog.

Arthur had sent Leon ahead to Camelot, so that when they arrived Gwen had dismissed all the pomp and pleasantry that usually greeted the king back to Camelot. It was early morning and those who were awake were too busy setting up shop and spending the early morning hours on practical tasks to mark the return of Arthur and his knights.

The castle was quiet too. Gwen greeted them at the entrance to the castle, her beautiful face stern and unreadable to anyone but him. He saw the slight downward turn of her lips, the deep sadness in her eyes.

They had been close, Gwen and Merlin. Perhaps not so much in recent months with Gwen studying her queenly duties and taking the reigns more and more in council meetings, but there was a bond that had once caused Arthur a few unjust twinges of jealousy. Now he realized as he saw her that there were questions he needed to ask. Uncomfortable, painful questions.

Avis took off Gwaine's horse, fluttering about the courtyard until it found a place on one of the elegantly carved banisters, just out of reach of a palace guard.

She descended the steps as he dismounted. The grooms took the horses away, and the knights followed leaving the king and queen surrounded by silent, still guards.

"Arthur," she said quietly. "What happened? Leon said Merlin-"

"Did you know?" Arthur asked, lowering his voice so that they could not be overheard, but impressing each word forcefully.

She frowned at him, looking still more confused and now a little defensive. She didn't ask him what he meant, so he elaborated for her, drawing closer. "Did you know he was a sorcerer?"