THE MORNING OF

BETA: FLYAWAY213

The morning chirps of birds woke them from their sleep. Arthur and Gwen rose slowly, knowing the Game's Reaping would soon begin. Merlin, his hair stuck up from sleep, fell off his bed in an attempt to untangle his feet from the thin sheets.

Resting beside the door was a tub half full of lukewarm water. Merlin undressed himself, stumbling over to the liquid, dropping clothes to the floor on the short way over. As soon as he was soaking in the wooden tub his eyes flashed gold and steam rose from its depths.

A dark haired beauty glided down the stairs of a small inn. She was dressed in a royal red gown, her bodice drawn tight drawing the eyes of many a men. Her dark slippers stepped over drunken spills on the floor, her nose scrunched up in disgust.

She addressed a young barmaid, sliding a gold coin into her well-worn hand, "I was never here." Green eyes widened as she nodded quickly and scurried to the back in an act of false obliviousness.

Two merry ladies cheerfully clopped through the square, their high shoes carefully avoiding upturned stones and large, aggravated cracks. Looking around, their heads nearly twirling like owls with their huge eyes, they smiled in satisfaction. Everything was nearly completed and all they needed was a seating place. Of course, they had a couple other views set up in the lower towns so none could miss the joy of seeing the Games.

Arthur was downright worried. He hadn't seen Merlin for two days now. Having asked Gaius, he knew he was supposed to be in the tavern. Well, not supposed to be as he was supposed to by his side! He had seen no hide nor hair of Merlin in the Rising Sun and Sir Gwaine had not drunk past him in any of his exploited fun.

Gaius saw the worry in Arthur's eyes and could only think to reflect it back. He was thinking more and more that the note he had practically destroyed was much more important than he could ever have suspected. Merlin was gone, a horse was missing from the royal stables, and nobody had the time to truly act out their worry with all that was happening with the Games setup. He could only hope, only assume, that his young ward was safe.

Merlin dressed himself in his regular attire knowing it may just be the last time he would ever wear it. It wasn't that he doubted he could win, it was more in thought of how he would likely be captured when his magic is revealed to the Capitol to be powerful-the most powerful in all of time, no less.

A horn sounded from afar and Merlin rushed to pull his boots on, nearly tumbling out the door of his room. He rushed down the stairs only to trip on the last step causing his forehead to smash into the splintered floor, much to his embarrassment. His feet pummeled the ground and jumped over puddles on their way to the district's center. Falling in line behind a young boy, perhaps at the youngest age of 12 years, he finally allowed himself to catch breath.

He rubbed his head in pain but ignored it, facing the men who would check him in. As they pricked his finger and absorbed his blood into thin sheets of parchment, a young woman giggled at him. He looked at her, looked behind himself at a grown man digging into his nostrils, and back at her before ignoring the sound altogether. He had more serious matters to worry about.

A dark smile rested on soft, pink lips.

Two woman cheered in glee at the knowledge of what was soon to come.

A grimace graced the face of one nervous warlock.

The royal crowns rested on the desk of one Arthur Pendragon as the king and queen held one another in silence.

The Court Physician looked at his missing ward's bedroom door with a sense of foreboding.

Decently dressed men, women, and children stood stock still at the center of each District as they watched a stage in dread.