Arthur woke to the world moving around him, his back flat on a surface and the feeling on movement all around. Exhaustion pulled at his senses but he pushed his eyes open, seeing through the forced slits a blurry world emerged of white and dark. A round face, fuzzed and darkened appeared in his vision.

"Sire?" a voice asked, far away as if in a tunnel.

Arthur tried to speak, tried to make his voice work, but all that came was a low grunt and his eyes slipped shut once more.

"It's alright sire." The voice spoke, "Everyone is alright, we are on our way back to Camelot now."

Reassured and dauntingly tired Arthur let himself fall once more back into the dark recesses of sleep.

When he woke again he could feel the aches, and the cold. The world was still moving around him but the heaviness in his limbs had gone. He now felt the sharp sting of his wounds, in shoulder and thigh, the pain pulsing with each pass of his blood. He shifted and grunted in his displeasure and immediately felt a presence at his side. Opening his eyes he looked up into the grinning face of Percival.

"Awake then sire?" his knight asked, helping shift Arthur into a more upright position. Wincing, Arthur surveyed his surroundings from his better vantage. He was loaded on the back of a small wooden wagon, a horse pulling from the front. Behind them was a matching cart, he could see the huddled forms of his knights sheltering form the chill of the snow, borrowed Saxon clothing covering their backs.

"Just about." The King replied. He took a quick count around them, all knights accounted for and Sir Gwaine was dozing lightly opposite him.

"We should be back in Camelot by nightfall sire." Percival continued. "How are your wounds feeling?"

"Painful but not life threatening" Arthur grunted staring down at the makeshift bandages around his new irrigation holes, but the wounds were meant to be painful, not deadly, Morgana always did like to play with her food.

Sighing Arthur leant back against the cart walls looking at the changing landscape around them, the snow retreating, being replaced with greening foliage. "Where's Merlin?" he sighed, shifting gingerly, "I would have expected him to be hovering fretfully."

Percival snorted in amusement taking a quick look around. "Not sure sire, haven't seen him. I'll have a quick check, let him know you are awake."

"Yes please do, no doubt he will want to scold me for getting injured again."

Percival smiled fondly at the thought and shouted over to the cart behind.

Arthur's eyes fell on Sir Gwaine, his snorting breathes irritating in the peaceful silence, reaching out his good leg Arthur nudged the knights leg, not very gently. Gwaine startled awake, wincing when he moved too quickly and frowning at the grinning King.

"Well good morning to you to Princess." Gwaine muttered shifting in his seat. "I see you've joined the land of the living."

"And I see you are doing no work… again."

"Hey – injured and resting here."

Arthur rolled his eyes but fixed Gwaine with a solemn look. Gwaine straightened knowing that the King was now on duty, not Arthur. "What was Morgana doing in those caverns?"

"Looking for something." Gwaine replied, "Not sure what it was exactly, or what she wanted it for. But that blue guy, pretty sure it was him she wanted."

"So she didn't get what she was looking for?"

"Not as far as I am aware, pretty short time frame for her to find it when she was busy using you as a pin cushion a few minutes after we saw it."

Arthur sighed in relief. He might not know what it was that Morgana was after, or to what end, but that fact that she didn't get it was thankful.

"Arthur." Percival muttered. Arthur glanced back to see Percival shifting uneasily by Arthur side, his face marred with a frown. Immediately Arthur straightened.

"What is it Sir Percival."

"Merlin sire…" the knight began, "No one's seen him."

"Where has that idiot wandered off to now?" Arthur huffed with a roll of his eyes.

"No, sire," Percival swallowed, "no one has seen him at all. Not since we were in the caves."

"What?" Arthur frowned, "He was injured, he would have been right next to me, you would have seen him when you found me?"

Percival was already shaking his ehad frantically and Gwaine had perked up from his sleepy lounge. "We didn't find you sire." Percival replied, "It was Mordred-"

"Mordred!" Arthur called around. The figure sat up front by the horses turned to reveal the pale blank face of the small druid boy he had met all those years ago.

"Sire?" the boy asked innocently.

"Merlin." Arthur spoke urgently twisting in his seat ignoring the flare of pain it brought. "He was right by me in the caves, you saw him. Where is he?"

"Merlin sire?" the boy frowned in confusion.

"Merlin." Arthur grit through clenched teeth, now starting to lose patience, worry creeping into his gut. "My servant, he was with us all in the caves. The one I was with when you found us."

"Oh." The boy exclaimed, his face morphing to one of sympathy. "I am sorry my lord but he died. The blow cracked his skull and I thought the priority would be to get you to safety sire."

Arthur felt the blood drain from his face with each passing word but it was not his own voice that exclaimed denial.

"Dead?" growled Gwaine who was staring at the boy who had spoken of their friends death with such non-chalonce in horror. "Merlin can't be dead!"

"Did you check?" Percival strode forward, grabbing Mordred tunic tightly, "Did you check?"

"He- his head," the boy stuttered, "it was such a sight, I admit I didn't want to get close. But no one would have survived that."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" Arthur found his voice, it coming out startlingly weak and threaded.

Mordred turned to look at him, his cool blue eyes emotionless. "No one asked sire."