Hello my loyal fans and readers!

Thank you all for being patience with me as I wrote this next chapter, as well as for your sweet and supporting reviews! :) I'm so grateful for you all! This was hard for me to write, as I struggled where to put the pieces in play. I figure it out, I'm afraid this story may be slow in updates during the holidays, work is always hectic around this time of year, but I'll promise to do my best. Please stick with me!

Here is the next chapter! Hope you enjoy! Read on!

Disclaimer: I, sadly, don't own Merlin, if I did, Arthur would have had a unicorn throughout the series...

Arthur's unicorn, Eirian, rode hard and fast.

Arthur urged for the unicorn to make haste. The dark night around them blurred, tears streaked Arthur's cheeks from the strong whip of the wind.

It usually took six day's ride to get there, five at best. Now he prayed that Eirian would make it during the night.

"Albion," Arthur prayed. "Grant Eirian strength. Loan him your powers."

A golden light blanketed the ground and reached up for Eirian's hooves.

Eirian's speed increased.

This was reckless action. Uther would berate him for having no pride. How can Arthur have pride when his people, his kingdom, were in danger?

When the predicament of war finally dawned on Arthur, only one person came to mind, one person Arthur knew he could seek out advice.

A recent ally.

He didn't know how much time had passed. It was the darkest of the night when Eirian approached her kingdom. The unicorn jumped the drawbridge and galloped quickly for the Citadel. Arthur immediately jumped off Eirian and groaned as his legs buckled. He wanted to sit down but there was no time to rest.

Guards dressed in rags of black and blue stormed for Arthur, armed with torches and swords.

"Take me to your queen," Arthur demanded.

The guards obeyed without question, leading him down the stairs to the heart of the kingdom.

Doors boomed open and Queen Annis rose from her throne.

Arthur was shocked. He thought she would be in bed.

It was then he noticed that she had a visitor: King Alrik.

The king looked battle-weary, dressed in a sleeveless tunic and a double-horned helm.

"King Arthur?" Annis exclaimed bewildered. She addressed her guards. "Leave us!"

The doors rattled shut. Caerleon's throne room was different than Camelot's. The ceilings were high with polished-red beams and blue drapes lined the corridor.

Arthur approached Annis and Alrik with caution.

"I assume your presence here means this Morgause declared war with Camelot."

Arthur only panted and glanced between the two of them for answers.

Alrik folded his huge muscular arms across his chest, his bushy eyebrows set in a thick line. "Did she give you a warning? Declared she had three armies surrounding you?"

"Yes," Arthur said. "What happened?"

Alrik's eyes grew dark. "They came. They butchered my people. Most of us had to flee, yet I'm certain many fell by blood."

"I told you, King Alrik, you and your people are welcomed to take refuge behind my borders. We need an alliance, now more than ever," Annis said. She wrapped her fur cape around her shoulders. "Arthur, why have you sought me out?"

Arthur felt like a child. "You were the only one I could trust to turn to." He flicked a gaze at Alrik. "Don't take offense. You live out on an island."

Alrik only grunted and Arthur was unsure of how to take that.

"She's giving you the same warning?" Annis asked.

Arthur nodded.

"What are you doing here then?" Alrik demanded. "You abandoned your..."

"Never," Arthur interrupted. "I have a unicorn. I got here within hours' time."

Alrik relaxed.

"Did you see them on your way here?" Annis asked.

"I noticed Cenred's army. Who is Morgause? How did she managed to get Cenred and Agravaine to join her cause?" Arthur said.

Alrik and Annis shared a look, apparently they've already come to their own conclusion.

"My kingdom joined your father's in the ban against magic twenty years ago. However, recent events has caused me to lift the ban, but not without its damage," Alrik said.

"Caerleon did the same. I lifted the ban after his death," Annis said.

Arthur sighed. "Only two kingdoms in Albion kept magic: Daobeth, and Cornwall. Essetir always tended to go back and forth on the ban against magic, I think Cenred once enslaved sorcerers." Which doesn't make sense why Morgause would team up with him if her reasoning for attacking Arthur was true. Arthur killed those with magic once, but Cenred hunted them down and forced them into his little magical army. Arthur had faced them once. He didn't want to do it again.

And His mother, Ygraine, was from Daobeth, a land that was once destroyed by dragons or so the legends say.

"With Cenred to the east of us, they'll flank both Camelot and Caerleon," Annis said, resting her hand against her chin in thought. "What doesn't make sense is: why attack Svealand first? You're across the sea."

Alrik coughed into his hand and released a strange wheeze.

Both Arthur and Annis appraised him with a raised brow.

For some reason, Alrik gave Arthur a long, hard stare. "Forgive me that I did not tell you during your stay at my home. In the heart of my kingdom lay the bones of Jormungand."

Annis paled. "Jormungand?"

Arthur felt lost. "What? What is it?"

"Ages ago, before the land of Albion was founded, an ice-breathing, cold-mist dragon ravaged Svealand. The land was nothing but hard snow and barren ice. The very air you breathed froze your insides. The sun never touched the ground for nearly fifty years. A man came forth with great power and defeated the dragon. The creature's bones laid in the keep of my kingdom, with a warning. A High Priestess with a dark heart will rise the dragon and darkness will cover the land once again, for we will only be saved by Lleu."

Arthur choked. Lleu? Didn't Audrey say that was his nickname growing up?

"Ah, by Light, more metaphors," Annis grumbled.

Right. Lleu means light. It was a coincidence, nothing more.

"And you think this Morgause is a High Priestess?" Annis pressed.

"I can sense you believe my ancestor's stories are folly, but I assure you, they are not. For when Jormungand rises, the world of men will fall. For when Jormungand rises, the dark things in the night awake from their slumbers."

Goosebumps pricked Arthur's skin. He felt like a teen again, spreading monster stories with his knights at camp.

"You should fear," the soft feminine voice of Albion whispered in his ears. "For what he speaks is true."

Alrik locked eyes with Arthur. "And what are the dark forces that have been put to slumber in Camelot?"

Arthur struggled to remember, but he drew a blank. No dragons. No walking skeletons. No monsters that can be summoned...Arthur's heart stilled. No. That story couldn't be true. That was superstitious nonsense!

Annis drew up in alert. "Arthur?"

"Your glow...grew pale," Alrik commented.

Arthur widened his eyes. "The Knights of Medhir."

"Knights?" Alrik scoffed. "Ah, I'm shivering in me boots," he deadpanned.

Annis furrowed her brows.

"Within the walls of Idirsholas lies dormant the seven Knights of Medhir. Some 300 or 500 years ago, seven of Camelot's knights were seduced by a sorceress' call. One by one, they succumbed to her power. At her command, they became a terrifying and brutal force that rode through the lands leaving death and destruction in their wake. Nothing can stop them. Not steel nor magic."

"Something did," Alrik said.

"When the sorceress was killed, they grew still, put into slumber. When the fires of Idirsholas burns once more, the knights will rise again."

Arthur suppressed the urge to shudder.

Alrik turned to Annis. "What of you?"

"I can't believe we're talking about this," Annis muttered, stroking a brow. "We're rulers of kingdoms, reduced to shivering fear of ancient legends."

"A doubter ends up in trouble waters than those who take caution of faith," Alrik said.

Annis glared at him. "The Night-Wanderers of Regret."

That didn't sound so bad.

She explained, "Years ago, a deadly civil war waged in Caerleon, and the regret ran so deep that an anger that runs so deep will awaken their unrestful spirits to wage war in the twilight until there is no life left."

Arthur would rather face the Knights then angry spirits wailing for blood.

Annis waved those away. "Those stories are beside the point..."

"They should very well be remembered, because as I was fleeing my home, I heard an unearthly roar from my shores, and snow began to fall," Alrik said.

"If the Knights of Medhir were to ride for Camelot..." Arthur said.

"They would spare no one," Alrik said. He gripped Arthur's shoulder. "Take heed of my words. Morgause gave my people a warning and we held our ground out of honor. Take your people to safety, learn from my mistake. This is no time for pride...pride led to the downfall of my kingdom."

King of the Fallen Kingdoms, Morgause's haunting words echoed in his mind.

He turned to Annis.

She sighed. "Your people are welcomed here, but I'm afraid I cannot house them all. Scatter them like the wind, so that she cannot find them all."

Arthur nodded. "Thank you...I..."

"This is why I like you, boy," Alrik said as he smacked Arthur on the back. "It takes great courage to seek out another for help. You think of the greater good and not your honor."

"We didn't enter into a peace treaty for the sake of it itself, we did it because we believe in you, Arthur," Annis said.

Arthur gulped. Did they know? He never told them about being Ruler of Albion.

Alrik chuckled. "My people devised a name for you after you defeated me in combat. I was ashamed of my loss that I never told you. Your Svealand name is: Eskil."

That sounds like a tough warrior name. Arthur grinned. He loved Svealand's culture.

"It means vessel of the gods," Alrik said.

Arthur's grin fell. His own people nicknamed him Light, and Svealand's people nicknamed him Vessel of the Gods. Why did people hold him in such high regards?

And then there's people like Morgause and Agravaine who view him as evil and a monster.

The Druids once thought so as well.

Why couldn't they just see him as Arthur? Why did he have to be good or evil?

Annis rose from the throne. "Ride fast, Arthur. Camelot doesn't have much time. Your sorcerer, Merlin, he's powerful, I trust he can figure out a way to smuggle your people out."

Arthur agreed.

Now that he had the support of two other kingdoms and a safe house for his people, he knew Merlin was the next best option.

Guilt pricked at him.

First day as Court Sorcerer and Merlin already has a huge task prepared for him.

He prayed when he returned, Merlin had enjoyed his last night of happiness. Arthur can grant him that much.

When the feast settled down, Merlin returned to Gaius' chambers to speak with his father, Balinor. They spoke for a while as Merlin made them some tea. Now that he poured the tea into serving cups, they sat in silence.

He couldn't believe it. Long had he thought his father dead. To have him here...it was like a part of him had been returned.

"You keep staring at me," Balinor remarked.

Merlin glanced down at the cup in his hands, the steam of the contents swirling up to his face. "Sorry. It's just all so unreal."

"You've built yourself a good home here," Balinor said.

"Mother sent me here, she thought Gaius would help me learn to control my magic."

"It's easier to control your magic when you find a purpose for it," Balinor said. "You obviously have one. I assume it's mainly for the new King of Camelot, Arthur?"

Merlin blushed. "Uh, yeah, that's right."

"I can sense your magic. You're much powerful than I am, it's almost as if you're magic itself."

I am. "You said you a Dragonlord?"

"I can speak the ancient tongue of dragons. I can give them commands and they must obey. It works better on the younger ones. Our magic helps birth dragons, for our tongues alone can crack open their shells."

"Our?"

Balinor gave a short nod. "You are my blood. You have that gift too. It explains why Kilgharrah took a warm liking to you, from what you've told me."

"How many dragons have you hatched?" Merlin asked, excited.
Balinor grew sad for a moment. "Many, when I was younger. Since Uther's reign...I've found four eggs and hatched three."

"What happened to the other one?"

"It cracked, but the dragon never came out. Stillborn, I believe. The lack of magic in these lands over the years have destroyed many creatures," Balinor said.

Merlin took a sip from his tea. The contents warmed his throat and belly. "Magic is coming back," he said softly.

"I fear it may be too late," Balinor whispered.

"It's never too late. Arthur is destined to bring magic back to Albion."

Balinor leaned back at Merlin's retort. He smiled softly. "You truly believe in a Pendragon of all people."

"Arthur is a good man."

"I know," Balinor said. "I've witnessed the depths of it when he sought me out for your behalf. I saw it when he robed you Court Sorcerer."

Happiness and pride swelled within Merlin. "You saw that?"

"I may be a Dragonlord, but I know my way around a spell or two."

Merlin smiled. "What made you decide to come back? You didn't return with Arthur."

"I was afraid Uther would lash at you and your mother if he discovered my connections with you two. You're the reason why I returned. I thought Hunith moved on. I never knew I had a son, Merlin, if I had..." He glanced down at his cup. "I missed most of your life already. I didn't want to miss more."

Merlin's smile grew.

"I'll hide in the shadows for a while longer, until I know it's safe to come out, but I'm not leaving you, Merlin."

This is what it's like to have a real father. A man who beamed with pride when you accomplished something. A man who wants to be a part of your life. A man who wanted the best for you.

Merlin never thought he would ever have that. He blinked away the unshed tears. It wouldn't do good to cry in front of his father at the first meeting. He sniffed. "So, tell me about your dragons."

And Balinor did. He told the story of the green dragon he first hatched twelve years ago named Duer who was his constant companion in the years of solitude from the humans. A few years afterwards, he hatched a white female named Aithusa, which meant the Light of the Sun in dragon tongue. Balinor had a very close connection with that one. Recently hatched was his male red dragon named Pacem. Merlin couldn't help but think of Arthur. A red Pendragon highlighted with glow of magic. He wanted to see this dragon and Arthur together.

After a while, there was a soft knock on the door and Merlin's mother poked her head in. "Merlin? Your friends are wondering where you are."

Merlin turned to Balinor who chuckled. "You're the man of honor tonight. Go. I'll still be here."

Merlin glanced back at Hunith and he knew he should give his parents alone time. He wondered if there were any love to be rekindled. He shook his father's hands and hugged Hunith before he returned to the feast.

"Merlin!" Gwaine cried as he entered the room. He pulled him toward Percival and Kay, his cheeks red. "We've been wondering, now that magic is officially legal in Camelot, we thought maybe you could do something about that courtyard in the Citadel."

Merlin blinked. "Courtyard?"

"Yes, there's a circular water fountain in the center, but I've never seen water pour from it," Gwaine whined.

"It is a bit of a depressing place," Percival added.

"When guests enter Camelot, or when people want to visit our King, shouldn't they walk through something more..." Gwaine waved his arms, slashing his pint, "uplifting?"

Kay pursed his lips. "I remembered Arthur saying something about putting a garden there."

Gwaine and Percival shot him a look.

"Garden?" Gwaine gapped.

"Think about it, Gwaine, a place for a romantic date," Percival teased.

"Merlin! You have to build a garden!" Gwaine exclaimed.

Merlin laughed. "I'll see what I can do."

He glanced around the room, surprised to see that the party was still going strong. Dawn should be approaching in a couple hours. His jaw slacked as he noticed Tristan and Ruadan in an all out drinking contest. They were throwing back shots and glaring...goofy and strange...daggers at each other.

Even some of the upper nobles who were hesitant about Merlin's rise in status, who despised the Knights of the Round Table, were joking around with Gwen and Lancelot.

Merlin raised a brow as Lancelot placed his hand on Gwen's lower back and she allowed him to keep it there. There was something going on between them. He knew Gwen was infatuated with him when Lancelot first visited Camelot.

He caught Iseldir and the other druids talking with Isolde, Leon and Elyan.

"Where's Arthur?" Merlin suddenly blurted out.

Gwaine seemed to sober as his brows creased. "Come to think of it, I haven't seen him since the addressment."

Percival and Kay straightened up, eyes scanning the room.

"Who's in charge of the rounds tonight?" Merlin asked.

"Bedevere," Gwaine answered. "I'll come with you and find out."

Despite always teasing Arthur, Merlin could tell that Gwaine grew to care about Arthur as a close friend.

Gwaine turned to Percival. "Ask around."

Percival nodded, his expressions grim.

Gwaine and Merlin found Bedevere, heading up the stairs for the Citadel. He froze as he saw them. He cleared his throat and forced a smile. "Sir Gwaine. Lord Merlin. Enjoying the festival?"

"Have you seen Arthur?" Merlin asked.

"Arthur?" Bedevere echoed. "Ah, yes, he retired to his chambers early this evening. He was feeling a bit ill."

Still, Arthur would've told him.

Gwaine narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "You could never bluff well when we gambled, Bedevere. Tell us true, where is our King?"

Bedevere gulped. "He said he would be back by dawn, at the earliest..."

"Dawn?" Merlin gripped the knight's shoulder. "Where did he go?"

"He—he had visitors arrive earlier tonight. I couldn't understand much of what had been said, but they were sorcerers. Arthur came to me, told me he had to visit an ally, to pre...prepare."

"Prepare?" Merlin growled. "For what?"

Bedevere shook his head. "I vowed I wouldn't tell until he returned. He didn't want me to raise the alarm." His gaze skittered from Gwaine to Merlin's. "He wanted everyone to enjoy the night."

Typical Arthur. Allowing everyone else to enjoy their fun while he ran off and faced the duties of a king alone. Wasn't he Arthur's equal?

Bedevere hissed and Gwaine pulled Merlin back. He noticed his hands were warm.

"Easy, mate," Gwaine said. "You know Arthur. This was your night."

And Arthur wouldn't have wanted to take that away from him.

Gwaine sighed. "Tell us what has Arthur on edge. We're part of his council. King Arthur never stands alone."

Bedevere's jaw slacked and then he smiled. "You're right. You're right. We have to save the king from himself sometimes, don't we?"

Gwaine chuckled. "We wouldn't have it any other way."

Merlin watched the rare moment between knights. This wasn't loyalty to a king...this was love. They love Arthur.

"No. Arthur's too rare of a person..." Bedevere sighed. "War, he told me."

"War?" Gwaine and Merlin exclaimed.

"Camelot is faced with the prospect of war, and Arthur ran off to find advice from a person who had experience in such things."

It says a lot that he didn't rush to his own father. Why not Gaius, he had experience? No. Arthur needed advice from another person of the royal court.

"Annis," Merlin muttered. "He rode out to meet with Queen Annis."

"He ordered me to send scouts out. They've just arrived..." His face grew pale.

"Bedevere?" Gwaine pressed softly.

"We're surrendered. The numbers combined... twenty thousand men approach for Camelot."

Merlin's heart dropped into his stomach. Twenty thousand? Even with his magic, he couldn't defeat that many men with the knights of Camelot at his back.

"Gwaine," Merlin said. "Gather the others."

"You got it, mate."

He grabbed Gwaine. "And we're going to remind that dollophead that he never stands alone."

Gwaine smirked. "We can beat that sense into him."

Merlin watched as Gwaine rushed up the stairs. He gazed out into the night sky. It was always the darkest, just before dawn.

Arthur rode Eirian to the Castle of Idirsholas. The ruined castle stood against the sky, through the windows, Arthur caught sight of withering flames.

His heart pounded.

"The Knights of Medhir now roams this land once again," Albion declared.

"What of Jormungand? Or the Night-Wanderers of Regret?" he asked of her.

There was silence. A cold breeze filled Arthur's bones.

"Jormungand terrorizes Svealand...the Night-Wanderers still sleeps."

Arthur released a shout of frustration. Damn his father for killing all the sorcerers! Now the people had no hope or means to defeat these ancient creatures! Sure, he had a handful back in Camelot, but against an army? Against ancient monsters?

"How many people will fail?" Arthur said.

A warm golden glow swiveled up Eirian and wrapped around Arthur like a mother's embrace. "Many..." Albion answered.

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut in despair. "What can I do? I can't demand them all to die..."

"Your words will not work on these ancient beings, for their magic is too evil for mine to touch. Nor will it work against an army of many, your heart will not agree to it. Even if you had disposed of Morgause and Agravaine, the damage would've already been done."

"How can I stop this?" Arthur cried.

"You can't stop them alone."

Arthur knew Albion was right.

"Merlin," he whispered. He tugged gently on Eirian's mane. "Fly, Eirian, make haste!"

Eirian stormed for Camelot.

The armies drew close. Arthur was able to slip by several camps unnoticed. His mind thought of the siege tunnels. There was no way he could let his people escape from the route from the prison cells, it would led them right to Cenred's army. Unless...

Arthur smirked.

What if they carved out underground tunnels? It could lead them out of the foothills, a safe path to the Ruined Castle of the Fallen Kings, others could hide out to the Castle of Fyrien, only those from Camelot knew about the secret maze entrance inside, and the rest would ride for Caerleon. It could work.

As Bedevere promised, the drawbridge was lowered upon Arthur's return, just as the sky was beginning to lighten. The guards immediately forced the drawbridge back up as Arthur rode inside.

He hopped off Eirian and patted the unicorn. "Thank you, friend. Get some rest."

Eirian nestled his snout into Arthur's neck and Arthur chuckled, rubbing his snout. He rushed up the stairs to head into main tower.

"Sire!" Sir Bedevere came charging for him.

"What is it?" Arthur demanded.

"I sent scouts out like you ordered."

"And?"

"Twenty-thousand men, at least."

"Twenty?" Arthur pressed a fist to his lips. He forced himself to calm. He was King, people reacted off of him. He had to stay calm and collected for his people. "Thank you, Bedevere."

"Sire?" Bedevere pressed. "Iseldir...wishes to see you in your council chambers."

Now? There was pressing matters. Well, he did need the druids' help. "I'm on my way." He clasped Bedevere's shoulder. "Get some rest. We have a long day ahead of us."

"Arthur..."

He waited for Bedevere to collect his thoughts.

Instead the knight simply nodded and graced him with a smile before he left. Strange.

Arthur rushed up another set of stairs and down the corridor heading for the council chambers. He opened the door and...he reeled back.

What?

His Knights of the Round Table sat in their usual places, as well as every member of his inner council: Gaius, Geoffrey, Daimon, Owaine and Edmund.

Iseldir and Ruadan stood against the windows, arms crossed, waiting.

Morgana and Merlin waited at front of the table, and turned upon his arrival.

Arthur panted. He wasn't expecting to find...

"Arthur," Merlin said. He took a few steps forward. "You stupid prat. What did you always tell me?"

Arthur scratched his cheeks, hiding his grimace. "A King doesn't rule alone."

"And?" he drawled out.

Why was Merlin berating him in front of the whole council? He supposed he deserved it. "A King is only as strong as the people he surrounds himself with." He decided to hold back his other statement: A great King surrounds himself with people that are better than him.

Right here was proof. The people who sat and stood before him; they were all better people than he was. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

Arthur always used to say those statements to Merlin as a reassurance or to act like he was wise. Now he knew why Merlin made him recite those lines back to him.

Merlin wanted Arthur to feel the true effects of his words. He wanted to prove what Arthur said was right.

I learned my lesson, Merlin. I won't run off and carry my burdens alone.

"So..." Gwaine said, folding his hands together. "We're at war. Care to fill us in?"

Arthur packed a small bag of extra clothes. He rummaged through the drawers of his desk, looking for any important papers that he didn't dare leave behind. His fingers grasped around the royal seal; a ring he was very familiar with. Uther had given it to him many times when he'd left the kingdom. He held it up to his face and inspected it.

If they were heading into war...

Arthur needed to choose a successor.

There was a knock on the door.

Arthur smiled. He knew that knock. "Come in, Merlin."

Merlin entered and hovered by the doorway. "The tunnels are complete. We've already begun to move people out, starting with the lower towns like you ordered."

"My people are indebted to you, Merlin. Once again."

Merlin fought down a smile. He turned serious. "You should leave with them."

"I told you, Merlin, I'm not leaving until the last of my people are out."

Merlin sighed. "I know, thought maybe you'd changed your mind."

Arthur fingered the royal seal into his trouser pockets. He crossed his arms and leaned against the edge of his desk. He took in Merlin's demeanor. "What is it, Merlin?"

"I thought peace would be right around the corner," Merlin said. "All our hard work in the past year...I prayed it wasn't for nothing."

"It wasn't. All the work in the past year gave us strong allies willing to help us. Camelot has never truly had that before."

Merlin's eyes darted back and forth, thinking.

Arthur watched him. Merlin was always thinking, worrying, analyzing every little thing. Sometimes it drove Arthur nuts. Other times, it was kind of adorable.

Merlin stopped and stared at him, softly. "You do know that this is not your fault."

"Merlin," Arthur started.

"I know you, Arthur. Any threat directed upon your people, you blame yourself. Don't. Your people won't survive with a leader weighed down by guilt. They need a leader who's clearheaded."

Arthur bit down any retorts. His birth brought this war upon his people, it was his fault. He knew Merlin was right. This wasn't the time for that.

This wasn't supposed to be happening. Merlin was supposed to be happy and free in Camelot. He was supposed to be getting to know his father. They were supposed to have time.

What if they didn't have that time anymore?

Arthur reached out and grabbed Merlin's hand.

Merlin shot his gaze down at their hands then back up at Arthur. "You know," Arthur started, "I have to say, I've grown quite fond of you."
Merlin rose his brows. "Oh? Is that so?"

"Yeah, you're not all that bad. Sure, you can be clumsy and idiotic at times, but those traits are growing to be quite endearing."

"What are you trying to tell me?" he teased.

Arthur cleared his throat. "Well..." this was hard, he was never good with words. He grabbed Merlin's other hand. "What I'm saying is..." He cleared his throat again. "I hereby declare my love for you."

Merlin's brows shot to the roof. "Hereby declare…" Then he laughed, and laughed.

Arthur blushed and he dropped Merlin's hands in embarrassment.

Merlin grabbed Arthur's hands back and shook his head at Arthur. "You prat..." His smile grew, his eyes twinkled with mirth and affection. "I solemnly swear that I'm yours."

Arthur chuckled softly. He didn't lose Merlin. For all his flaws, Merlin stuck by him. He smiled.

He jerked in surprise as Merlin drew him close. He closed his eyes as he rested his head against Merlin's chest, safe in his embrace. Merlin nuzzled his nose into Arthur's hair.

This would be their last moment in Camelot for who knows how long. And he would enjoy every last second.

His people were bustling about, lugging various possessions, small carriages, and horses. Arthur overheard one of his knights telling someone that they couldn't bringing everything and to only bring what was necessary.

The tension was tight, a few people reacted with despair, yet his knights did a great job calming the people. Isolde and Leon did well with their training. Admiration built within Arthur for his Head Knights. Thanks the gods for them.

He scanned the crowd and found the familiar face he was looking for.

"Morgana!" he called out.

She turned, strays hairs from her bun framed her face. Seeing her in her hunting tunic fitted her better than her gowns, he didn't know why. Morgana was helping a young child onto a pony.

She quickly approached Arthur after giving the little girl a reassuring smile. "What is it?"

"You're going out with this group?" he asked.

She nodded. "I'm taking them to the Ancient Castle." She gave him a tight-lip smile. "Looks like our secret place is not so secret now, is it?"

"As long as it's secret from the enemy, that's fine by me," Arthur said.

"Your father went out with the first wave. They're going to set up in the Castle of Fyrien."

He swallowed. "Good." He didn't have to listen to his rant of disappointment. He felt guilty that he didn't say goodbye. When did he start avoiding his father?

Morgana narrowed her eyes. "What is it?"

"Be careful," he told her.

"Always am."

He inhaled a breath and reached into his left pocket. "Morgana...if anything were to happen to me..."

"Don't speak like that," she quickly chided. "You'll be fine."

"If I don't make it back," Arthur grabbed her hand and pressed the King's Seal against her palm, "the throne of Camelot is yours."
Morgana stared at the ring in her hand and then shot up her gaze to search Arthur's features. "Arthur? I can't..."

"You care for Camelot. I've seen you with our people, more importantly, I've seen you with those outside of our kingdom. You're compassionate, don't lose that kind heart that you have, Morgana."

She curled her fingers around the seal. "Why do I feel like you're saying goodbye?"

He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her into a hug. "It's not a goodbye. We'll meet again," Arthur promised.

"We will," Morgana said.

He blinked back his tears. He knew in his heart he made the right decision. There's no one else he could think that could rule in his stead. She would probably be a better ruler than he, but he wouldn't wish her that burden. He turned and headed back for the Citadel, he hated goodbyes.

"Arthur," Morgana called as he made it up the stairs.

He glanced back at her.

"If anything does happen, I promise Camelot is in good hands. Worry about saving your own hide, you hear me?"

Arthur grinned. "That's what Merlin's for."

"Mother!" Merlin cried once again in aggravation. He turned to Gaius and Balinor for help. "Please talk reason into her."

Gaius and Balinor shared a look, both with raised brows.

"Well..." Balinor started and then gestured to Gaius.

Gaius glared at the lack of help. He crossed his arms and gave Merlin his raised brow of Death. "We're coming with you, Merlin."

"We're a family," Hunith said. She grabbed Merlin's hands and held them up to her chest. "Whatever happens, we face this, together."

Merlin groaned. "I can't guarantee I'll always be there to protect you."

"Who says I need it?" Hunith chided. "I'm not looking for it, nor am I asking."

"Dark times are ahead of us, Merlin," Balinor said. "I can sense it. If it may be our last moments, we want to be together."

Merlin sighed. "Okay. I don't like it...but okay."

In truth, Merlin was terrified. He could barely protect Arthur, but now he had to watch out for his own family and the entire kingdom? That was too much.

He remembered Arthur's hands on him early, his whispered promises that everything will be alright. He blushed and turned away from Hunith.

"You serve a great King," Balinor said. "He cares more of his people than his honor."

"He's not just a king..." Merlin muttered.

"Ruler of Albion."

Merlin turned to Balinor. How did he know?

"There used to be a legend in the magic community long ago about Lleu."

"Lleu?" Merlin once heard from the servants that the people once called Arthur that behind his back.

"A name which means Light. Legends once told that when darkness falls, when the magic ceases to exist, when ancient shadows rises, the land will grant her powers through Lleu, his skin would glow bright with her energy and as Ruler of Albion he would unite the land and banish the very darkness of this world." Balinor chuckled. "When I saw the light of Albion glimmer over Arthur's skin...I knew."

Merlin never heard that legend, though from Gaius' expression he had.

"You knew as well?" Merlin asked him.

Gaius frowned. "I thought that legend died with Uther's reign. I've heard of the nickname Camelot gave Arthur as a child and I was that one who made them stopped."

"Because of Uther."

"Yes. Merlin, I didn't tell you, because I believe prophecies and legends do more harm than good," Gaius said. "Just as I know there's more to you than your destiny to protect Arthur."

Merlin winced at that. Arthur was everything. Yet even Arthur had told him that Merlin was meant for more things than Arthur. Arthur proved that statement when he gave Merlin the position as Court Sorcerer. He proved that when he asked Merlin and the druids to save his people.

Merlin knew his magic could be used for anything. Yet when his magic was used for Arthur, it tingled with a stronger force, it reacted with spark, it made Merlin feel more alive and powerful than ever. If magic was connected to the heart, then there was no question what Merlin's true destiny was.

"I can see why Hunith sent Merlin to you, Gaius. You're wise," Balinor said.

Wise, yes. But he didn't know the depths of Merlin's heart.

Only Arthur knew that. And only Arthur knew everything about him and loved him still.

"No matter what happens, Arthur," Merlin told them in their private moments earlier, "we face this together."

Arthur had intertwined his fingers with Merlin's. "Together," he had promised.

And suddenly he knew why Hunith, Gaius, and Balinor wanted to join Arthur and Merlin's last group out of Camelot.

To face whatever happened together.

"There may be more to my destiny than Arthur," Merlin said. "Just as Arthur is destined for more than he realizes. Whatever our destinies may be, I'm glad I have you guys."

"This is a mutiny," Arthur said.

"No," Leon argued, holding up his hands. "Of course not, this is...this is just simply a refusal to follow your orders."

Arthur peered over Leon's shoulders at the other knights flanked behind him: Isolde, Tristan, Lancelot, Guinevere, Elyan, Kay, Gwaine, and Percival.

He clicked his tongue. "Sounds like mutiny to me."

"Call it what you what, Princess," Gwaine snapped. "Regardless of what you may tell us, our number one priority is protecting your royal arse."

"The people of Camelot are..." Arthur started.

"Under good hands. What will happen to the kingdom shall you fall?" Guinevere interrupted. She placed a hand on her hip.

"The top priority of the Knights of the Round Table," Lancelot said, "is to protect King Arthur at all cost."

Arthur scoffed. "It's to uphold the King's laws."

"Priority two," Elyan said, holding up two fingers, "protect King Arthur from himself."

Arthur bristled. "Wait just a minute..."

"Priority three," Isolde said. "Protect the King's heart."

"Four," Tristan added, "protect and uphold the King's honor."

"Five," Kay spoke up with his chest puffed out, "protect the people the King rules over."

"Six," Percival said, "protect each other, for the King relies on us more than he knows."

"Seven," Gwaine said, "protect ourselves for we serve King Arthur with the vigor of our lives."

Arthur swallowed, overwhelmed with emotions.

"The eighth and final rule is the most important," Leon said. "To protect and serve in example for if we shall fall, others shall take our place with the same love we have for our King."

Arthur blinked away his tears. Damn them. "That's..." he cleared his throat, "that's not what I wrote."

Isolde twisted her ponytail and gave a shrug. "We, Knights of the Round Table, wrote our own code."

How can Arthur argue against that? It was a code worthy of honor, a code, where unlike his father, didn't need forcing upon. He smiled with pride. These were his knights with their own code, one that shall always be remembered.

"I've never been more honored to have you guys by my side," Arthur said.

"Does that mean you'll listen to us?" Kay grumbled.

Arthur threw his hands up. "Fine. Fine. I'll leave with the next group."

"Hmph," Gwaine pouted. "I was hoping to knock you out and carry you over my shoulders."

"You got the pan and everything," Percival griped along.

And that's when Arthur noticed a kitchen pot hanging by the handle from Gwaine's belt.

He struggled not to laugh. These were his knights and he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Arthur!" a sharp voice pierced the tender moment.

He turned toward the doorway of the council room to find Sir Bedevere. He took in the knight's stricken form.

"Bedevere?" Arthur reached for him and steadied the knight. "What is it?"

He released a shaky breath. "They're coming for the gates..."

"The army?" Arthur cried. Already? They've barely got half of the people out of the city.

Bedevere's grip was hard on Arthur's upper arm. "No." He shook his head. "No. Worse. The Knights." He locked eyes with Arthur. "The Knights of Medhir."

And that was when something hard connected against his temple and all Arthur knew after that was black.

Merlin rushed up the stairs for the main stronghold of the kingdom when he saw the Knights of the Round Table storming out. He skid to a stop on his heels. Why was Arthur slumped over Gwaine's shoulder like a sack of potatoes?

He ran for them.

"Merlin!" some of them exclaimed.

"What's going on?" Merlin demanded. "Why are you kidnapping Arthur?"

"Could you call Eirian..." Gwaine muttered. "He's heavier than he looks."

It's the chainmail, Merlin heard Arthur's retort in his head. He whistled and the unicorn pounced up for them.

"The Knights of Medhir are at our gates," Leon said.

"We knew Arthur would risk his life to fight them rather than flee," Gwaine said. "So I knocked him out."

Merlin sighed. "Priority number two..." Protect the King from himself.

"What are we going to do?" Lancelot said. "Gaius said these Knights cannot be killed by men nor magic."

"Then we do the only logical thing we can," Merlin said as much as he hated the answer, "Run."

Isolde clenched her jaw, not liking this. She shared a look with Leon. "We'll distract them, so that Arthur can get a clean getaway."

"Hold on, love..." Tristan argued.

"At this rate, the Knights will catch up. I've heard the horror stories, Tristan, I won't see it."

He sighed, not liking this.

"You don't need to worry," Merlin said. "Leave it to me."

"Merlin." Gwaine shook his head. "It's suicidal, and goes against priority number."

He burrowed his brows. What was...oh...protect the King's heart. Were they that obvious?

"Emrys."

Merlin stiffened. He turned and faced Iseldir, backed by Ruadan and the other members of the druid council.

"Take Arthur and flee. Protect our Ruler. We will provide the distraction."

Merlin shook his head. This wasn't their responsibility. "No. I won't leave you all."

"Emrys," Iseldir stressed. "Go. King Arthur placed his trust in us. He gave us back our freedom. Let us place our trust in him."

Merlin glanced between the druids and Arthur.

"Not all battles are yours to fight," Iseldir said.

Gwaine grunted as he shifted Arthur's body onto the unicorn. "Mate...we don't have time to debate."

Merlin swallowed hard and saw the sharp determination in their eyes. There was fear but they held themselves with grace and strength. Merlin gave a brisk nod. He gestured for the others to take Arthur and leave.

They began to head for the tunnels underneath the Citadel.

Merlin turned to leave but Iseldir called out to him once more.

"A piece of advice. Magic is nothing without strength and courage to guide it."
Merlin forced a smile. "I'll keep that in mind. I'll pray we'll meet again."

Iseldir's lips thinned. "Go."

Merlin didn't like this. He was one of the most powerful sorcerers in Albion and he was leaving the druids to their deaths.

He met the knights and his family at the tunnels in the underneath the city of Camelot. Gaius was yelling at Geoffrey that it was foolish to lug all these books with him.

"Knowledge can be dangerous in the wrong hands," Geoffrey snapped.

Merlin muttered a spell and the books vanished with a POOF.

Geoffrey gasped like someone killed his child.

"They're in a safe place," Merlin assured. At least he hoped they were.

He heard Arthur mumble and stir in Eirian's saddle. He placed a hand on Arthur's forehead. "Sleep, until we get you safe."

Gwaine heaved a long exhale. "He's going to kill us when he wakes up, especially when he's sporting a nasty bruise on his forehead."

"No, Gwaine. He'll realize he's lucky to have you," Merlin said. Arthur was. Over the past year, Merlin grew to see that apart from him, Gwaine was Arthur's closest friend. When they weren't gambling or drinking in secret, Merlin would catch the two of them confiding in one another, more often in a complaint or passing statement. And Merlin found himself going to Gwaine for advice and support when things got tough.

Gwaine scoffed. "He'll act like a princess and whine about this."

"If we make it out," Isolde pointed out. "Are you ladies done chatting?"

Guilt tugged at Merlin at leaving the druids behind. He stole one last look up toward walls of the Camelot, the sun's rays peering down upon them. The mass of people moved like sheep by them and through the tunnels. Barks of commands sounded from the knights as they kept people in order.

So...this was the price of freedom.

They were forced to flee from their homes.

Rage boiled within Merlin. Whoever this Morgause was... He would make her pay for this.

He faced the tunnels once again and watched as Gwaine and Percival walked on each side of Eirian, ensuring Arthur was safe in place, watched as his mother and Balinor squeezed hands as they followed after the Knights of the Round Table, watched as Gaius and Geoffrey gave each other pats of reassurance on their backs.

This Morgause may have forced them from their homes, but she will never take their freedom.

Not while they still drew breath.

Merlin smirked.

He may be forced to flee Camelot, but he was still the Court Sorcerer.

He was still Magic.

Gwaine pressed his hand against Arthur's back to steady his friend as Eirian stepped on some rocks, weaving his body back and forth.

Damn this.

All of this was terrible timing. This was supposed to be a celebration, a time of peace.

And now...now he was relieving Manau all over again.

He didn't feel an ounce of guilt at all for knocking Arthur out. He knew Arthur. Arthur would've gone out and faced those knights, for Camelot, because he was a reckless hero who didn't care about his own hide.

And the truth was, Gwaine knocked him out because he didn't want to flee and leave Arthur behind. It's in his blood to serve and protect his king.

When Gwaine fled Manau to find a way to save it, he had to leave his lord father behind...and his father died trying to save his kingdom.

Gwaine's heart squeezed.

He never got the chance to say goodbye.

The last thing his father ever told him was: "A Lord knows he cannot stop the darkness from coming, for night always follows day. The night is always full of struggles, and you may never know when morning will come. But alas, it always arrives. Stay strong, Gwaine. A good lord doesn't preserve his strength for himself, he shares and loans his strength to others, for unity is much stronger than facing the night alone."

Gwaine glanced down at Arthur for a brief second as he continued down the narrow tunnel.

Why did he feel compelled to loan his strength to Arthur, and hell, even Merlin?

He wasn't exactly certain.

It felt right to him. Like this was what he was meant to do all along.

He'll take heed of his father's advice, and he'll loan his Strength.

Arthur jerked awake. He winced at the blinding sunlight before his eyes adjusted to the rays bouncing off the ocean before him. He stood and straightened himself up on the beach.

This beach...the only way to enter was through the Labyrinth of Gedref. He glanced down at his hands. They were transparent, which meant...

"That bastard," Arthur muttered as he raised a hand to his head. "He knocked me out." He was going to kill Gwaine when he woke up.

"You have friends who care deeply for you," a voice said.

Arthur faced Anhora, who was dressed in his dirty rags. His hood was down and he didn't have his staff with him.

Arthur grumbled. "I don't see how that classifies as caring."

"I fear for you, young Pendragon. For I've watched you struggle to carry the burdens of a king alone. Did you not take regard of my advice?"

Arthur winced. Anhora had advised him to allow Merlin to shoulder his burdens. And Arthur mostly pushed Merlin away. Not just Merlin...

He remembered the slight concern that would slip when he hung out with Gwaine: "Don't be a princess. A lord is supposed to loan a king his strength, remember?"

Arthur sighed. "I know...I know."

"Your fear..."

"I know!" Arthur yelled. "My fear is only worsening my situation. But is it so wrong for me to fear that my burdens will be too much weight for those I care about? I'm King! It's my responsibility. This role was given to me...how can I pass that burden onto them? Just to make it easier for me? It's selfish!"

Anhora clasped his hands behind his back. "If you cannot trust your friends with your burdens, then why do you surround yourself with their company?"

Arthur felt as if he'd been slapped in the face. "I trust them, with my life..."

"In the physical sense, yes. Not in the emotional sense."

Arthur shook his head. "That's not true...I..." His throat constricted. "You make me sound like a girl."

"I make you sound human. You are allowing your pride to prevent you from being vulnerable."

"Pride?" Arthur scoffed. "Where was my pride when I rode out to meet Annis? Where was my pride when I allowed my people to flee instead of fighting? I dismissed my pride!"

"Yes, when it comes to Camelot. Not when it comes to you."

Arthur smacked his jaw shut. There was no retort for that.

"To save your kingdom, you will need the support of magic and strength. Yet their support will be worthless if you are unable to wield courage," Anhora said.

Arthur's forehead creased. He got the sense that Anhora was speaking in riddles again. The unicorn keeper was right, though. Cursed the man, he was always right.

Anhora continued, "You are surrounded by a strong group, a mighty fellowship. Your pure heart brought them together, and it'll be your pure self that will keep them together. Risk being vulnerable, Arthur. Have courage to reveal your true self, for being able to stay true to yourself is the greatest courage of all."
"I was just trying to stay strong for my people, for them..." Arthur said.

"You once stated that a great King surrounds himself with those who are better than him."

Arthur suddenly felt the mighty warrior in him lessened.

"Any idea why you believe so strongly in that?"

And then the warrior within Arthur roared as he remembered. "Because they'll inspire me to become better and stronger."

"True courage is the ability to be vulnerable and be as we completely are. I understand the need to stay strong for others, and while that is admirable, in the long run, it'll build up a mask where you'll find yourself alone."

And a good king doesn't rule well alone. Hell, look at his father. Arthur didn't want to go through his life alone. He didn't want to grow to become bitter and cynical.

He had a circle of knights, one created out of love and trust, if he'd lost that...

Arthur couldn't bear to think that.

He clenched his fists as he stared out at the waves rolled and crashed onto the shores.

Be vulnerable.

That thought frightened him more than anything.

Arthur held his shoulders high.

In that moment, Arthur vowed that from this day forth he would wield true Courage.