Merlin had often wondered what would happen if his magic was ever discovered. He'd had some close calls in the past, but he had often wondered if he'd get some prior warning, whether some part of him would know that day was coming.

As it turned out, the day itself began in the normal fashion.

He had brought the Crown Prince his breakfast and had awoken him. Arthur had moaned deliciously at the intrusion, and that creature that dwelled in the pit of Merlin's stomach fluttered, as it always did, at the sound. Then Arthur had opened his mouth to yell, and the irritating and delectable sensation was suddenly far easier to shut up.

Arthur eventually sat down to breakfast, and Merlin had kept him distracted as he stole sausages from beneath his nose; ignoring as he always did the smooth planes of Arthur's chest, and the fluffy trail of pale hair that disappeared enticingly beneath his waistband. Once the plate was clear, and Arthur had stopped griping about his missing food, the Prince went behind his ornate divider to change and Merlin had prepared his bath.

Arthur's bathing regime had become more and more confusing since Merlin began as his manservant; the lines between them becoming more blurred. The Prince sank into the steaming waters, scented as they were with oils filched from some visiting lady's room, courtesy of Merlin. Merlin took a cloth, soaked it in the waters above Arthur's stomach, and gently washed the Prince's back. There were many things that both had ignored during these times; sighs and stifled sounds from the Prince, and certain issues were best left overlooked once Arthur stood, tall and bare, to step out of the large tub.

The day Arthur's Manservant lost everything was the day a pair of powerful sorcerers, intent on destroying the entire royal family, had attempted to infiltrate the castle. Each one had a target, be it the King himself, or the Crown Prince; each had been cunning and ruthless, darting through the castle through this passage and down that staircase, leading false trails for the Knights of Camelot to follow.

The first had eventually been caught before any lasting damage could be inflicted on her target, although it had been close a call. But one was still loose on the castle, and there could be no question as to his assigned target when his compatriot had been discovered attacking Uther.

Merlin had run at full tilt across the castle, desperately searching for Arthur, praying to anyone that would listen that he wasn't too late, please don't let him be too late.

He had rounded a corner in time to see Arthur slump down the wall behind him, seeming unconscious or worse. The Sorcerer was stood above him, hand raised to deal the final blow. Merlin hadn't even hesitated. Bellowing at the top of his lungs, he had shoved his right palm flat out in the direction of the enemy sorcerer. The cloaked man flew to the side, his head had hit the corner of the wall hard. He fell to the floor like a sack of grain, and stayed there. Merlin had but moment's respite, before his world shattered.

"Merlin?" His eyes had flashed to meet Arthur's open ones. Not unconscious in the slightest, looking at his manservant with shock, and something akin to fear. They had stood there, hardly daring to breath. Time seemed to stop still, as if under an enchantment, and neither knew how to break it.

The pack of knights that rounded the corner had no such issue. Merlin had run for his life, knowing that Uther would not care that he had just saved the Crown Prince. The King's only thought would be that he wielded magic that must be crushed.

The castle gates were barred before he could even reach the courtyard. Every passage that Arthur and he had known about, had used together in their adventures, was blocked by guards. Gaius' apartments were searched, and the man himself was kept by the King's side, treating his wounds from the Sorcerer's attack. So Merlin hid in the one place nobody would associate him with.

Kilgharrah's old prison made a sorry home for the next week, as Merlin waited with bated breath for Uther to believe him gone from Camelot, and to order the manhunt be extended to the surrounding villages and towns. The young warlock's mind replayed the moment where his eyes locked onto Arthur's over and over again, and he couldn't stop it. The look of betrayal in his master's eyes was branded onto the back of his own, and that moment haunted his dreams whenever he tried to sleep. His eyes stung, and he screwed them shut, curling into a rocky crevice and hiding from the world.

"I'm sorry." He whispered to nobody. "I had no choice."

Finally, late one night, Merlin snuck his way passed the guards to Gaius' rooms.

"Merlin!" Exclaimed Gaius in a shocked whisper, "Where have you been? What happened?" The physician took in Merlin's red rimmed eyes, the dark circles beneath his blue orbs, the sharp cheekbones that seemed to just out just a little further now after a week with little nourishment; the way he slumped, defeated, as if waiting for the inevitable blow to hit him.

"Arthur knows. Gaius, he knows about me."

"My dear boy, everyone knows. Uther wants your blood."

"I know. I've been waiting until it's safe." He finally raised his eyes to meet Gaius'. "I need to leave, Gaius, tonight." Gaius' shoulders sank a little, but the revelation had been inevitable. It was necessary.

"Let's pack you some provisions then, and find a way to get you out of the city." The pair worked quickly, Merlin packing his spell books away in one bag while Gaius packs another sack with food and water to take with him. Gaius spoke all the while, explaining what had been happening in the castle while Merlin was hiding.

"The King is convinced you assisted the sorcerers who attacked Camelot, and when the last sorcerer managed to escape in the hunt for you, Uther's belief was only strengthened."

"Does anyone suspect you?"

"No, the King thinks you hoodwinked me, and has organised patrols of knights to hunt you down. A party of men set off not two days ago to Ealdor, in case you went home."

"If they hurt my mother–" Merlin swore.

"I sent a fast rider the night before to warn her, she'll look after herself, don't worry about that. Just worry about yourself for the moment. You cannot stay anywhere near Camelot, and you can't go to her allies. They will all send you right back here to be killed."

"I know. I'll travel at night and sleep by day."

"Before you go, my boy, eat something. Nobody knows you're here, and they're not likely to come knocking at this time." Reluctantly, Merlin agreed, and Gaius served him a bowl of leftover stew. They sat in silence as Merlin ate something other than stolen kitchen scraps for the first time in a week. Finally, Merlin raises his head and asks Gaius the one question that he dares not ask.

"What about Arthur? What did he say to all of this?"

When Merlin had rushed off down the corridor, Camelot's knights hard on his heels, Leon had stayed behind, worry in his eyes.

"Sire?" He looked up, making sure the knights were gone, before slipping into more informal tones. "Arthur, are you all right?" Arthur looked back at the now deserted corridor in a daze. Merlin had magic. Clumsy, big-eared, stupid Merlin had magic. And he had saved Arthur's life. With magic. He looked back to Leon looking down at him, the man's eyes darting over every inch of him frantically searching for injuries, before offering his arm. With relief, Leon pulled him to his feet, and supported him to his chambers.

The hunt for Merlin continued well into the night, and with the king injured from his own attack that day, it was Arthur who had to delegate the patrols, placing guards in all the passages Merlin knew of, and even ones he couldn't possibly have seen before. Even as he ensured Merlin's capture he hoped against hope that his efforts would be in vain, and Merlin would slip the net.

Upon the morning the King, his health restored, took control of the situation with his usual ruthless majesty.

"My son's manservant was a sorcerer, in league with sorcerers who made an attempt on both my life and that of the Prince yesterday. Double the guards all over the city, and search every room in the castle and the lower town. Leave no stone unturned. He is dangerous, and he must be found." Arthur's stomach churned at his father's words.

"Father, I can't deny Merlin's sorcery, I saw it myself. But he used it against my attacker, not me! I don't think we can say he was in league with our enemies."

"My son, you had hit your head hard, you cannot know what you saw."

"Merlin has been my manservant for years, surely if he were my enemy he would have done something before now." Exclaimed Arthur. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gaius incline his head ever so slightly in silent agreement.

"Doubtless he was waiting for the opportune moment."

"But father–"

"Enough Arthur! I want that sorcerer found."

Two days passed as the city of Camelot was searched from top to bottom for the former manservant to the Prince. Convinced the Merlin must have snuck past the guard and out of the city somehow, Uther ordered patrols all over Camelot. As they sat around the council table, delegating men, Uther turned to Arthur.

"Where did the boy come from?"

"A small village called Ealdor, on the outskirts of Essetir."

"You are to take half a dozen men to this village in search of the sorcerer. Search every inch of the village and the surrounding area." The king stared at Arthur, his green, mismatched eyes piercing into his son's blue ones. The stern expression meant that he would brook no argument on the matter. "Show no mercy until this man is found." Arthur wanted to argue, but the words lodged themselves in his throat and almost strangled him.

Merlin snuck away from the castle as the guards changed shifts. He took off running through the woods, losing himself deeper in the dark trees, thankful that the moon was out to offer glimmers of light through the thinner branches. On and on he went, pushing himself farther and farther away from Camelot, away from his home.

As daylight approached over the trees, Merlin slumped down inside the mouth of a cave, too exhausted to continue. He choked down some bread, even as his insides railed against the intrusion, uneasy as they were. Studying his surroundings made that new, hollow space inside his ribs ache, memories of his adventures with Arthur invading every branch and stone of the forest outside the cave opening. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, until the pressure from his hands hurt more than the ache of his tired, tear-swollen orbs. Even in his bone-weariness, he struggled to sleep. He curled up in a vain attempt to save himself from the unwanted images that flashed inside his mind – Arthur staring at him, terrified, furious, and betrayed.

As Arthur had suspected, Ealdor was a dead end. Merlin would never have put his mother in danger by approaching her as a fugitive. When Hunith first saw him, her icy politeness wounded him more than if she had screamed in his face.

As the rest of his knights set out to search the surrounding huts and shelters, Arthur faced Merlin's mother. Her answers to the questions were brief; no, she had not seen her son recently, no she did not know where he was, no she hadn't known he was a sorcerer. The last one was a lie and both of them knew it, but Arthur would not drag Merlin's mother to Camelot in chains, no matter what Uther would have wanted.

He owed his former manservant that much at least.

Merlin made his way by night into the kingdom of Caerleon, and spent much time in the company of more unsavoury sorcerers. While his time spent in their company made him want to scrub at his skin with hot water and a mace, he learnt spells and enchantments he would never otherwise have known about.

More importantly, he learnt their counter curses.

Arthur was getting used to his new manservant. Of course he was. The seasons had changed from Autumn into Spring during the time he'd served Arthur. So what did it matter that his bathwater was no longer scented like a woman's, or that his clothing was always set out and prepared for him before he even awoke? So what that there were always too many sausages on his breakfast plate?

And yet Arthur found himself longing for the ridiculous morning greetings he had so often complained about, or the open fire that always seemed to last far longer than most. He realised now that that was magic, not Merlin's superior wood stacking skills.

He wanted to tell the cook to stop giving him sausages for breakfast, but never did.

He stood leaning against the mantel, one large strong hand propping him up while the other cupped his jaw, staring into the flames. The room was empty; his new manservant didn't dawdle over his chores, there was no lingering for final conversations before they both retired. Arthur's palm moved from his chin to press against his chest, trying desperately to push against the painful ache that threatened to engulf him whole.

If he thought about it too much, he might say it was loneliness.

Merlin sat by the piddling little fireplace in a back-alley tavern in Mercia, gulping down the bad ale with a grimace. His shoulders were perpetually covering his big ears now, a bad habit he didn't care to rid himself of even when wearing his hood as he did now. Nobody paid him any mind, and Merlin had gotten used to the anonymous feeling that came with no longer having a home.

Thoughts of home would inevitably lead to thoughts of Arthur, and Merlin wondered as he always did whether the Prince still hated him. Had he realised how much Merlin had done to protect him over the years, or were his good deeds forever sullied by his birthright? Could Arthur ever bring himself to forgive Merlin. Merlin hoped that someday it would happen. Sometimes he remembered the look in Arthur's deep blue eyes that day, and tears that should have run dry long ago would prickle at the back of his eyes.

Nobody could say that the Knights of Camelot were not quick learners, and during their time hunting Merlin they learnt that Arthur was to be avoided at all costs. No one knew what would trigger his rage next, what small reminder would send him into a frenzy.

Arthur saw their wariness, but didn't have the heart to reach out to them. The grief and loss that overwhelmed him – for that is what is was – was suffocating in a way he couldn't hope to avoid, as each day passed into one week and then another and still no Merlin.

Sometimes Arthur remembered the beautiful flash of gold in his manservant's eyes and he felt nothing but white-hot rage and hatred at the secret Merlin had kept from him. Sometimes that flash of light gave him an entirely different flash of heat.

Sometimes he remembered the blue that had followed the gold, that familiar blue that had been filled with deep and heart wrenching terror, and he felt like sobbing to the heavens to bring Merlin back to his side.

Maybe he had always known it to be just a matter of time before he made his way back home, maybe he had realised that to resist the pull to Arthur's side was a plan inevitably doomed to failure. Either way, Merlin couldn't go back without making one rather important detour.

Falling into his mother's arms as she opened her door was almost as good as being home. Hunith held him close as he told her the whole sorry tale in detail, her calloused hands threading through his hair. When his story was told, and he sat at her table in numb silence, she served him a bowl of soup with a hunk of bread; he ate quietly as she filled the silence with comfortable chatter, needing nothing from him and offering whatever comfort she could give. Finally, he turned to her.

"I've got to go back, Mum." Hunith sighed, like she knew from the moment he arrived that he would.

"I suppose I can't persuade you that that is a bad idea."

"I won't go into the citadel, I'll stay in the lower town. But I have to go back. It's my destiny."

"I would happily wring the fates' neck for giving you this grand destiny." muttered his mother. Merlin smiled then; a small, wry curl of the lips, but still the first smile to grace his face in months.

He stayed until just before dawn, catching all of two hours' rest, before heading out before anyone in the village spotted him.

Morgana's reappearance was a cause for great celebration throughout Camelot. She was shaken, and scared, but mostly unharmed. And though Arthur didn't falter as he ran to her in those woods, gathering her in his arms and making sure that yes it was her, and yes she was finally safe, a dark and nasty part of him wanted to be holding Merlin instead.

But he held her close all the while they rode back to the citadel, listened to her story, and the overwhelming relief at having her home engulfed the rest of his feelings.

And then his father began to see things that were not there, and Arthur's relief was short lived.

As Cenred's army clawed at their gates, Camelot found herself on a battlefield with two fronts and impossible odds. Just when they thought they were about to lose everything, the frightening skeletal warrior collapsed into bones and dust and the knights' feet.

And if the kingdom thought Morgana was the saviour and not the villain, only Merlin grit his teeth in frustration.

Arthur entered the cave slowly, sword drawn. Sir Leon followed him closely, as did half a dozen of Arthur's best knights. The cave was dry and warm, surprising considering how close they were to winter. There were no spider's webs, very little dirt. They turned a corner and saw light ahead. A single torch blazed in a stand just a few steps away from them.

"The witch must be here." Murmured Arthur. The group continued through the twisting caverns. At last, they came to an opening in the rock. A driftwood fire burned purple and blue in the middle of the space. Behind it, sat cross-legged upon an old but clean rug was a young woman, barely more than a girl. Her close-cropped hair was curly, and the ends brushed her shoulders.

Her eyes were closed, but as Arthur approached, they shot open. Arthur jolted back in surprise. There was no pupil to her eyes, no iris, no white. Only two pale lilac orbs.

"Approach, Arthur Pendragon. I can do you know harm. I cannot even see you stood before me."

"Then how do you know who I am."

"Because I can See you." Arthur shook his head in confusion.

"I don't understand."

"I cannot see the cavern I sit in, but I can See you. Not here, not now, but I can See who you were. I can See who you are. And I can See who you will be. Send your knights back to the entrance of the cave, for what I have to say is not for them to know." Arthur turned to his men.

"Sire, you cannot." Implored Sir Leon.

"She can't be older than nineteen Leon, and she's blind. Hardly a threat. Wait for me at the entrance. If I don't return in an hour, you can return and search for me." Reluctantly, Leon nodded, and the knights marched out of the cave. Arthur turned back to look at the strange eyed girl before him.

"What do you wish me to know?" He asked.

The girl smiled vacantly. Suddenly her eyes flashed, and now they burned royal blue. The fire behind the prince changed to match.

"It is not what I wish you to know, but what you yourself desire to know. Your servant was indeed precious to you."

"Merlin." He gasped. His breath lodged itself in his sternum, and his chest flashed with pain at the thought of his traitorous friend.

"Such a lonely little boy. And a lonelier young man." Murmured the girl. "No father to look up to, to teach him his legacy. No other child in his tiny village like him; no other child in the world like him. Entering your service at such an innocent age. He has lost everything in your name."

"What? What are you talking about witch? Merlin betrayed me." The girl's eyes suddenly blazed a venomous green, and the fire flared up by another foot in height.

"Emrys did no such thing" She shrieked in anguish. "He has given everything to be by your side, to be your friend, and even to save your life. His childhood friend – gone! His first love – gone! His father – dead in his arms. He has had every possible comfort ripped away from him, all for an accident of birth and your father's pride." Her glassy orbs simmered and became a swirling, fractured grey. The fire died down to smoking embers. Arthur looked closely and saw a single, heartbroken tear make its way down her youthful cheek. She inhaled shakily.

"But it is not his magic that has hardened you against him, is it?"

"He never told me." Admitted Arthur before he could stop himself. The girl smiled sadly.

"No, he did not."

"Why? If he was such a great friend, why did he not trust me with that?" The fire sprung up again as the girl's eyes faded to a soft, pale blue; the shade so similar to Merlin's that Arthur had to avoid her unseeing gaze. She stayed silent, and Arthur grew impatient.

"Tell me witch! You claim to have these answers, to know everything about me, so prove it!"

"Not a witch." Answered the girl.

"What?"

"I'm not a witch, I'm an Oracle. And as for your question, that is one answer it would be best you hear from his own mouth."

Starting a bar brawl hadn't been at the top of Arthur's to do list that afternoon, and his screaming manservant was less than useful. Arthur was astounded at how easily two men finished off over dozen between them. He glanced up and spotted a man with a dark and muddy cowl elbow a larger brute in the side.

Three men, then. Still damn nasty odds.

And then his new-found friend suffered a grievous injury, and Arthur realised why it had been so easy.

The cowled man who had entered the tavern shortly after Arthur rushed forward and immediately ripped at his own clothing to make a tourniquet. His hood had fallen back, though his grey neckerchief still masked his lower face. He was tall and very thin through his baggy clothes, his dark hair caked in grime. He rarely spoke as he helped Arthur tie the man to his saddle, only mumbling through the cloth over his mouth when asked a question, and avoiding eye contact.

It was only as he rode back to Camelot, ignoring his snivelling servant, that he realised with a jolt how familiar those blue eyes had been.

Merlin knew it was a risk, but leaving things up to chance was worse. He snuck into what was once his bedroom and saw Gwaine there. Upon seeing him in the doorway, the man sat up in shock.

"Merlin?"

"Yeah, hi… um…" thinking of saying something and actually saying it were apparently two different things.

"What are you doing here?"

"I need to ask you something – a favour." Gwaine's face didn't change, but his eyes were no longer open. Instead they filled with suspicion.

"What is it?"

"If Arthur asks about me, I want you to pretend you know nothing. I wasn't there and you've never heard of me."

"Arthur? Whose Arthur?" Asked Gwaine in sudden bewilderment.

"Prince Arthur. You saved his life in that tavern."

"If I'd known who he was, I probably wouldn't have." Grimaced the man. At Merlin's raised eyebrow, he clarified. "He's a noble."

"Well, yeah, I mean he's a good man." Insisted Merlin, losing control of the conversation and idly wondering if he'd had control of it in the first place. Gwaine laughed.

"How would you know." Merlin almost brushed the question off, but something about Gwaine's tone made him answer.

"I served him once."

"The fact that you don't serve him now, and you're sneaking around the kingdom covering your face tells me all I need to know." Snorted Gwaine bitterly.

"Trust me, it's nothing like that." Muttered Merlin.

"If you say so."

As Arthur watched from on high as Gwaine left the city, he saw him stop to talk and laugh with Guinevere. He looked on in confusion; surely watching another man, albeit another man who had now saved his neck twice, flirt with the woman he was sure he loved should fill him with jealous rage. Instead there was only the same hollow emptiness that had filled him for almost a year now. There wasn't even a flicker of sadness at the way she smiled at the man and laughed brightly. He walked slowly and gravely back to the castle, carefully studying his thoughts, while desperately shunning what he knew was the true reason for these feelings.

Merlin raced through the forest after Arthur, desperate to keep him in sight, while simultaneously picking off the bandits one by one. Concealing himself wasn't an issue; invisibility was a branch of magic he had mastered in the early days of his travels. His breath was ragged in his chest and in his throat, his muscles were burning, but desperation pushed him on. In the distance, he saw Arthur's manservant trip, stumble, and fall. Arthur stopped, and dashed back to haul the man up by his arm. Trust Arthur to run back for the fallen even now.

He watched as Arthur dragged the whimpering man into the valley of the fallen kings, and pelted down the slope towards him, biting back his Prince's name even as he wished to scream out a warning that the valley was cursed. As he reached the entrance, he couldn't help but gaze up at the foreboding statues in fear. Swallowing his nerves, he pushed on after Arthur.

As he ran around the corner, he heard the bandits all around them, Arthur was just up ahead with a sobbing manservant (Arthur really should start leaving him back at the castle for all the help he was). He pushed a few away with his magic, and they went flying out of sight. He looked back up at his friend.

In time to see and arrow hit him square between the shoulder blades.

Fear and anger and bone deep exhaustion rolled off his skin in waves of magic that pulsed into the air around him, driving the bandits off or sending them hurtling away. Soon the clearing was silent, except for the noise of the manservant's hysterics at the hooded sorcerer bearing down upon him. Merlin was tempted to knock him out, but as he stepped towards them with purpose, the man fainted dead away. Which solved one more problem.

After checking that the manservant hadn't hit his head or injured himself when he collapsed, Merlin set to work trying to fix Arthur.

When Arthur presented Morgana's birthday present to Leon, he snorted.

"Much as that is a lovely dagger, and I certainly would not be upset to receive it on my birthday, Morgana is a woman. More than that, she is a lady. She's going to want something pretty and shiny, Arthur, not a merely useful tool."

And so, it was for that reason that Morgana received a masterpiece of gold plated metalwork, hiding a sharp and lethal blade with an all too deadly future.

That night, Arthur's door opened forcefully on its own. Jumping out of bed to throw on a shirt and his sword belt, he followed what sounded like footsteps running away to be met with an empty corridor. Marching forward, he heard a noise to the side and found himself looking down the steep steps at a bundle of red fabric.

Except bundles of red fabric didn't normally have dark, sumptuous curls and a dangerously pale face poking out.

Merlin could sit and watch Morgana die for her treachery if he must. Difficult as it would be to watch the woman he had once fought alongside slowly fade away, he could cope with the guilt of his actions if that is what it took to keep Camelot, and Arthur, safe.

He was not prepared to watch Arthur's tears.

For the first time since returning secretly to the full-time job of keeping Arthur breathing, he had entered Arthur's chambers. Blowing the door open two nights before to warn him of Morgana's fall didn't truly count, he hadn't stuck around to take in the sights. But now, as he crept into the darkened room expecting to find it quiet with its occupant asleep, he found quite the opposite.

Arthur sat in total darkness at his table, a hand over his eyes, weeping unrestrainedly. Merlin's breath caught in his throat at the sight; he froze where he stood. He had watched Uther sob over Morgana's limp, pale hand, had seen Gwen cry as Arthur held her in a vain attempt to offer comfort. At those sights, his stomach had clenched in guilt. Now his heart froze in grief. He stepped back out of the room before he could act rashly, and reach out towards the man. It was unlikely that his attempts to console him would be taken kindly.

Morgana felt as if she were submerged in deep, calm waters. If she fought her way to the surface, she could hear her surroundings. But fighting hurt, and it was far less taxing to sink further and further beneath the waves.

However, Morgana would not be Morgana if she didn't keep fighting to stay alive. Even if doing so was harder and harder every time.

The room around her seemed to be quiet. There was a presence beside her – Gwen perhaps, or Arthur. Suddenly, she heard a door open, and the person in the room jumped in fright. Definitely Gwen.

"Who are you?" Came her maid's voice, a barely concealed tremor in its tone. A rustle of fabric, and Gwen gasped. "Merlin? What on earth are you doing here? You shouldn't be here!"

"Quiet Gwen!" Came the voice of the intruder, and Morgana barely recognised Merlin's harsh whisper, especially considering it was aimed at Gwen.

"What are you doing in Camelot? If you mean to harm anyone here–"

"If you truly believe I'm here to hurt anyone then I have even fewer friends in Camelot than I thought."

"How can you call us friends, you plotted to kill Arthur!" Hissed Gwen. Merlin snorted.

"You definitely don't believe that."

"How would you know?"

"If you did you would have screamed for the guards long before now." There was silence for a moment. Morgana fought to stay afloat for just a little longer, to hear more of the conversation. She was soon rewarded for her pains. "I need you to step out of the room and leave me alone with Morgana."

"No!"

"Please Gwen! I'm trying to help!"

"With magic? Merlin you can't!"

"Yes, I can, and I will. Step out of the way, Gwen, and I will fix this. Please!" Merlin's tone startled Morgana. He was pleading with Gwen, begging her for this. Why would he do that when he had tried to poison her the last time they had seen each other. Regardless of Merlin's motives, it seemed he would have his wish, as Morgana heard Gwen move quietly towards the door. "Give me half an hour. By the time you come back she will be healed, and I will be gone." Gwen's breath hitched in her throat a little.

"Thank you, Merlin." She whispered, and the door shut. There was a long pause, and Morgana wondered how Merlin would finish her off now. Instead he spoke in a low guttural voice that shook her to her core. She had been told of Merlin's magic when she had returned to Camelot, but she had never realised just how powerful the young man was. That he had lived amongst them all that time and had never been caught could be laughable if it weren't so terrifying. Suddenly there was a jolt of magic, and Morgana was dragged forcefully out of the water of her mind. And yet there was no blinding pain as she had expected. She kept her eyes closed, waiting for death to reach out his hand to her. Beside her, she heard Merlin sit back in his seat.

"Wake up, Morgana. It's time we had a little chat." Muttered Merlin, his tone dark and foreboding. Slowly, Morgana opened her eyes to look at Arthur's – her Brother's – old manservant. He was slumped back in his seat beside her bed, arms folded stubbornly across his chest and with a scowl plastered mulishly on his face. It was so reminiscent of years ago during council meetings when Uther made decisions they both disagreed with that Morgana almost laughed.

Except that his eyes burned gold.

"Why shouldn't I just scream for the guards right this instant?" She hissed.

"Because it won't do you any good." Replied Merlin bluntly. "You can scream until you tear your throat apart and they won't hear you. No one can hear into this room right now. I've ensured it."

"How very thorough of you." She looked him up and down. "So. You have magic." Merlin smirked bitterly.

"Yes, Morgana. I have magic. I was born with it."

"And yet you stay here. In Camelot. Where you would die for being born with this gift." Merlin's scowl deepened.

"It won't always be this way."

"How could you know that." Spat Morgana.

"Because if you would stop listening to your damned sister for one minute and learn, really learn, about the old religion, you would know that it is Arthur who is destined to bring magic back to Camelot. That it is Arthur who will unite the kingdoms of Albion. That Arthur is the Once and Future King." Growled Merlin. Morgana scoffed.

"You believe that? Arthur hunted you down for months as far as I'm aware, and has been hand reared by Uther to hate all magic. Even if it were his own sister." She muttered bitterly.

"What?" Exclaimed Merlin, and surprise clouded his features.

"Oh, weren't you aware? Funnily enough, nor was I. Uther is my father. I heard him confess it to Gaius." She spat, quietly revelling in the shock on Merlin's face.

"Well, that explains how you can do no real wrong in his eyes." Grouched the man.

"I can do no wrong, can I? He has lied to me all my life. He has locked me away purely for disobeying him in the past. He puts Arthur above me in every way and will never acknowledge me as his daughter in the public eye. Too keen on his reputation to do so."

"Really, Morgana? Are you that blind? To acknowledge you in public would mean destroying your reputation as a highborn woman. You would be a bastard, and lose any status you hold now as his ward. As for locking you away, this is Uther we're talking about. In case you hadn't noticed, he's done it to everyone at one point. Including Arthur."

"You can't really be defending that man to me! He would see us both burned if he knew what and where we were."

"Don't ever accuse me of supporting Uther. I would gladly see him dead, and his laws perish with him!" Snarled Merlin. And then his shoulders slumped slightly, and he sighed. "But there is Arthur to think of. He would mourn his father, and I do not wish to bring that day upon him sooner than it needs to happen."

"You would allow innocent people, fellow magic users, your kin, to suffer and die and burn at the King's command, to spare Arthur's poor bleeding heart?"

"For Arthur? I would burn the world to a charred husk just to keep him from hurting." Merlin glowered down at her, and in that moment Morgana truly knew fear. This man with shining golden eyes and a face filled with thunderous anger loomed over her. How Arthur had survived so many powerful onslaughts of magic was no longer a secret. Not when this man served him.

"You sound as if you love him." She scoffed, though it was half hearted at best. Rather than fight the accusation, Merlin wilted in his chair, a hand over his eyes.

"Too much to stay." He whispered, and suddenly he seemed to break before her very eyes. Or perhaps those cracks had been there for her to see as soon as she saw him. "And I didn't realise until it was too late."

"If you think I am going to pity the man who tried to poison me, you are sorely mistaken." She said, but the words lacked their usual fire. Merlin looked up, and Morgana could see that the gold glittered even more when his eyes were filled with tears.

"The hardest decision I ever made." He choked. "Holding you as you slumped against me, dying at my hand. It physically pained me. Morgana if there had been the time to find another way I would have done anything, searched anywhere to find it. You were my friend."

"If I was truly your friend, why didn't you tell me you had magic. All those times I looked for someone to understand me, what I was faced with, and you were stood there all along." And there it was, out in the open. Merlin's true betrayal, and she hadn't even known it until she returned to hear the stories of his magic and treason.

"I wanted to! All those times I spoke to you alone about your own rising powers, desperately biting my tongue for fear that it was the wrong time to tell you. And then you trusted Morgause, helped her to almost invade Camelot, and there was no more time left." Morgana looked away, trying to blink away the stinging tears that threatened to soak her cheeks.

"Please Morgana. Trust me. I know I have given you little reason to in the past. But bide your time. Wait for Uther's days to pass, trust in Arthur's love for you. His grief at your accident was one reason I came here tonight.

"So, without that you would have left me to die once again?"

"No. I said it was one reason. The other, and the reason I stayed, is because of you. There can be no peace brought to Camelot if we stay divided. And this is not just you and I. Morgana, I do not ask you to forgive me for what I did to you, but there are others who do not deserve your hatred. Trust Gwen. She will never turn her back on you. Trust Arthur. He is your brother. He won't hate you for who you are, or the powers you were born with, nor will he turn you in to your father."

"If that is true, then why have you not gone to him."

"Morgana, I am giving you the chance to learn from my mistakes. Arthur never got to hear me tell him, I never came to him and trusted him with this secret. For that reason he hates me, and may never forgive me. Do not leave him in the dark, or you will end up in the same place as me."

Silence reigned between them for a long time. Morgana studied Merlin as he gazed emptily at the opposite wall, lost in his thoughts. For the first time, she wondered about the decisions he had made without the full force of her hatred; she found that while forgiveness would not come easily, she could at long last understand not only the reasons for them but the pain behind those decisions. She considered for a moment how many similar choices had been forced upon this boy. He inhaled sharply, and began to rise.

"My half hour is almost over, and I promised Gwen I'd be gone. Please Morgana, try to forgive Gwen and Arthur. They are your true family, and they've never knowingly hurt you." He turned to leave.

"Merlin!" His name was out of her mouth before she could work out what she wanted to say. He turned to her expectantly. "Thank you. For healing me tonight. And for staying with me. You've given me much to think about." The tightness around his mouth eased somewhat, and Morgana idly wondered if he had smiled, that grin that split his face from ear to ear, since he had fled Camelot. Merlin tied his neckerchief around his nose and mouth, and pulled his hood up to cover his eyes. He nodded at her once more, and slipped from the room.

Not two minutes later, Morgana held a sobbing Gwen in her arms, and for the first time in a long time was not sick to the stomach at the contact.

Elena's overnight transformation from ungainly spirit to elegant lady was a surprise to all that knew her. But even as she became the typical perfect princess, Arthur couldn't bring himself to finish the ceremony; not for the reason Morgana hinted at that evening either.

"Guinevere has nothing to do with it Morgana." He snapped.

"Really, I was sure you loved her." She said, confusion lacing her teasing tone. Arthur sighed, defeatedly.

"I did, once. Oddly, I don't feel that way for her anymore."

"No?"

"No." There was a long silence before he spoke again. "I worry sometimes that there is another who has my heart."

"Why would that worry you?"

"Because they may never return to Camelot again." Arthur looked down at his table, carefully avoiding all thoughts of gangly, blue-eyed servants.

"What if I told you that Merlin has returned to Camelot. And recently." Arthur's gaze shot up to Morgana, who no longer had that teasing look on her face, but one that was unsure.

"How? If he had come to Camelot we would know and he would be killed, executed." Arthur spluttered.

"He healed me." Admitted Morgana quietly, looking away. Shock radiated through Arthur's body.

"What?"

"When I fell and hurt my head, he snuck into the castle in the middle of the night and healed my head. And then he stayed and spoke to me."

"Why would he do that? Every second he stayed he risked discovery. Gaius or Gwen or father could have come to check on you at any moment." Morgana didn't answer.

"Morgana. What did he say to you?" Morgana looked back at him, and Arthur saw large tears welling up in those big jade eyes.

"Arthur, there is so much you do not know, and the thought of telling you everything frightens me more than I can say." She whispered.

"Tell me. Whatever it is, you can tell me." Morgana inhaled deeply, steeling herself, and turned to face him fully.

"Merlin says I can trust you with who I am, who I truly am, and for the first time in a long time, I'm going to trust him. Arthur, I have magic. I've had it all my life. My nightmares were never nightmares, they were visions. I spent years wondering if I was going mad, I thought it was all in my head. But it's real, and I can't help having it, but I can control it. I've learnt to control it."

"Morgana." Arthur whispered in amazement. He staggered up out of his chair. "No, this can't be right, you can't have magic, it's impossible!" Morgana snapped her hand open and hissed a word he would never be able to recreate with his own tongue. Her eyes flashed orange – different to Merlin's white-gold and yet still beautiful – and a flame sprouted from the centre of her palm. She held it out for him to see.

"See, Arthur, it is real." Arthur stared in awe at Morgana's outstretched hand. His eyes flicked up to her face, and there he saw his own fear reflected back at him tenfold. And suddenly he understood.

Uther would never have forgiven Morgana if she had gone to him with this, it was likely that Uther would have sent his own ward to the stake, regardless of how much she meant to him. And much as Arthur wished to be a fair and just man he realised that in the eyes of Morgana, in the eyes of Merlin,he was his father's son at heart. Neither of them could know how he would take this news. It had taken all these years for Morgana to tell Arthur everything, and to know it was Merlin who had encouraged her to trust him, even when he himself had not, did something to Arthur's head that he couldn't quite understand.

"Arthur, please. I have told you this in the hope you will realise that magic isn't evil. It is a part of me, a part of innocent people everywhere. And it can be so beautiful." She brought her hands to her lips, and breathed into them she opened them up and steam billowed up out of them floating into the air to form the shape of a rose, twirling in the air between them. Arthur didn't wait to see it fade. Instead he walked straight through the fog, ignoring how Morgana's flinch and fearful step back hurt his chest, and pulled her into his arms. She stayed stiff and frozen for a moment, before melting against him with a sob.

"Thank you. Thank you for trusting me." He pulled away, still holding onto her arms to look in her tear stained eyes. "Your secret is safe with me, Morgana, I swear it." A smile graced her features even as more tears streaked down past her chin. It faded as quickly as it came, as Morgana had more to say.

"Arthur there is more. But this I hope will be easier to hear. I heard Uther and Gaius speak while I was injured. He confessed everything to him. Uther is my father. Not Gorlois." Arthur gazed at the woman - his sister her realised – in awe.

"That only means you are my sister by blood as well as by my choice. Morgana, you have always been my sister. And if Uther does nothing about it, then I shall put it to rights when my own time comes. Whether it be a year or ten years from now I promise you, when I am king, I will see justice done for you and those like you. Camelot will know who and what you are." Morgana fell against him sobbing in earnest now, and Arthur sank to his knees with his sister cradled in his arms.

Merlin followed Morgana carefully as she left the city of Camelot. Deep into the woods she rode, and Merlin's muscles strained to keep up. He saw her slow to a trot up ahead and pushed on. He slipped behind a rock as she dismounted and walked slowly into the centre of the clearing.

"Sister." Whispered Morgause, and Merlin heard a swish of silken skirts as Morgana ran to her. "What news of Camelot."

"Sister, I…"

"What is it? What's wrong." Asked Morgause, concern evident in her voice. Even invisible, Merlin dared not look up at the two witches.

"I told Arthur about my magic."

"What?"

"He understood. More than that, he accepted me! Morgause, I even told him that Uther was my father, and he embraced me, called me sister."

"How is this possible?"

"Sister. I would still happily see Uther dead at my feet for his lies and cruelty. But Arthur… I think the druids I spoke to were right." That startled Merlin. So she had been to speak to the druids about Arthur's destiny? "He will bring magic back to Camelot when he is king."

"He has far to go before he reaches that point, sister. Even if he truly accepts you and your gifts, what is to say he will be so kind to the rest of our kin."

"I cannot promise you anything. But I wish to give him time to prove himself. To both of us."

"If you go down this path Morgana, you will never be queen, you will never rule Camelot."

"I don't wish to. As long as Camelot has the fair ruler it deserves, I don't need to sit on her throne."

"You truly want this, sister?"

"Yes." Insisted Morgana. Morgause sighed.

"And you would have been a beautiful queen. But you are my sister first. Whatever you wish for, you shall have of me. But if Arthur plays you false–"

"Then we shall rain fire upon him."

"Indeed."

"Thank you, sister. For your understanding."

"You are all I care for in this world, Morgana. As long as I see you happy, I am content."

Merlin watched Arthur ride away from the citadel from behind one of the gargoyles that sat high above. As he watched even from this distance, the magic on Arthur's wrist called to him. He gazed carefully at the orange stone even as Arthur rounded the corner and disappeared from his sight.

He hurried down the corridor, searching for the billowing green silks he had seen Morgana wearing. He found her in her chambers, and stepped carefully out of sight as he saw Gwen leave the room.

"What was on Arthur's wrist as he left?" he said as he swiftly shut the door behind him. Morgana jumped and turned to him.

"Merlin?"

"Quickly, Morgana, where did he get it?"

"It came from Lord Godwin, of Gawant. A well-wishing present for his quest."

"Can you be sure of that?"

"I… Yes, I'm sure." Said the witch, bewildered.

"It was enchanted. And powerfully so. I could feel it even from the ramparts." Morgana tilted her head to the side.

"You were watching as Arthur left?"

"Leave it Morgana. I need to find out what that damn thing was."

Gaius' heart almost gave out when Merlin swept into the physician's apartments, demanding information of the stone on Arthur's wrist.

"Enchanted, you say?"

"I could feel it from miles away, Gaius. I doubt it truly was from Lord Godwin. We need to know if it is protective magic, or harmful."

They searched for hours before Gaius found the right book. A phoenix eye was a deadly gift for Arthur to receive, and upon finding it Merlin was up like a shot, pulling his hood and scarf up and darting towards the door.

"Merlin, stop!" To his innate surprise Merlin did, and turned to face him. "This is not a task to be undertaken lightly, Merlin. You will need help." Merlin paused, before nodding slightly. He turned on his heel, and was gone.

"Hello Gwaine." Said a low voice at the door. As intimidating as the hooded figure was, even as the rest of the taverns patrons stepped back away from him, Gwaine grinned in delight.

"Oh! Merlin!" The cloaked figure tilted his head to the side. Even with the thick fabric across his mouth, Gwaine knew he was smirking.

The chase out of the tavern was exhilarating. Even as he knew Merlin could stop their assailants with a look and a wave of his hand, Gwaine led him up and down and around the market outside the tavern. He wondered idly why Merlin allowed it to continue, but when he heard the snort behind him, he knew. Even deadly, powerful sorcerers with an unreasonable protective streak a mile wide needed to let off steam now and again.

"Remind me, again, what you're doing here?" He gasped, as they stopped for a breather.

"Arthur's in trouble, I need your help." Even as he sighed in dismay, Gwaine was excitedly giddy at the fact that Merlin had come to him for this help. After his last adventure with the golden-eyed man by his side, he'd follow Merlin anywhere.

"What kind of trouble?"

"He's gone to the perilous lands." Merlin answered as they began to run again.

"You're serious!"

"Yeah." Sighed Merlin. They turned to watch as their pursuers joined them on the broken ramparts.

"Just now, sounds pretty attractive."

Gwaine laughed the entire ride out of Angard.

Gwen hid behind the wooden divider and watched in horror as Morgana drew in chalk on her floor. The dark-haired lady set various candles around the symbol the the floor, and then took out a deep red shirt. Gwen realised with a spike of terror that the shirt was Arthur's.

Morgana placed it in the centre and spoke in a guttural voice. Gwen saw her eyes flare up like flames. And then it was over, and Morgana packed away her things and readied herself for bed.

As soon as it was safe to emerge, Gwen ran to Gaius.

"I'm sorry to wake you." She said, her voice trembling.

"Don't be silly." Insisted the physician as he shut the door behind her.

"I'm not sure who else I can talk to."

"What is it, child?"

"It's Morgana."

"What's happened?"

"She drew a symbol in chalk on the floor, and lit candles around it. She had a red shirt – it was Arthur's, I'm sure of it! Her eyes… It was like they were on fire. What do I do, Gaius? She's using magic!"

"Gwen, I want you to calm down. Do you remember what the symbol looked like? Could you point it out if I showed you a picture?"

"Yes, yes I think so." Gaius sat her down and brought a book to her. After a long time, they found it."

"It's this one, I'm sure. The candles were placed here, and here." She said, pointing at various markings on the page."

"Gwen, this is good news."

"What?"

"That symbol is part of a protection spell. A fairly powerful one too. One of the most powerful ones a sorcerer can cast without doing so directly to the person they wish to protect."

"So… she was helping?"

"She was definitely trying to."

"But she has magic!" Gwen insisted. Gaius sighed.

"Yes, Gwen. Morgana has magic." He replied in resignation.

"You knew!"

"I did."

"What do we do?"

"We do nothing. She is clearly causing no harm to anyone in Camelot. And no matter what, Uther could never be convinced that she was good if he knew of her gifts." Understanding dawned on Gwen.

"Do you really think he'd burn her? She's his ward!"

"I fear Uther's hatred for magic knows no bounds." Silence reigned between them. Eventually, Gwen stood, wiping her face.

"Thank you, Gaius. Goodnight."

"Goodnight Gwen." She went to open the door, and stopped, turning back to the old man.

"Did you know about Merlin's magic, too?" Gaius' eyes flashed to meet hers.

"He never planned to hurt Arthur!" He said, with more passion than she had ever seen him possess. "If you knew how many times he saved that man's life! How many times he had saved Camelot! To be driven out as he was…" Gaius' voice broke and he sat down heavily. Gwen rushed to his side as the man finally gave way to mourning the separation from the boy he had seen as his own son.

Arthur's strength had finally failed him. His sword arm dropped and as his eyes fluttered shut he saw the creatures finally break through the old door and advance upon him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he thought he heard running footsteps. Someone stepped in front of him, protecting him.

Wishful thinking.

A harsh and unyielding voice shouted. The words were incomprehensible, but the tone was definitely an order. Arthur could make out hissing and the scratching of talons, and wondered if death-by-hideous-dragon-creatures would hurt if he was unconscious.

The sound faded, however, as if the creatures were leaving. A moment's pause and Arthur felt someone grabbing at his wrist. All of a sudden, his strength rapidly returned to him. He blinked his eyes open to see a blurred figure sat before him. He blinked again, and his vision cleared enough to see who it was.

He was skinnier than he had been, his cheekbones jutted out even further than they had a year ago. His black hood was pulled back, and his tatty grey scarf hung limply around his neck rather than covered his face. He looked older somehow, more worn, and Arthur wasn't sure if he liked the change. His pale limps were turned down in a worried frown; but those big blue eyes still glittered even in the dim light of the dusty room.

"Merlin!" He exclaimed, and no one but the two of them needed to know how close his voice came to whimpering.

"Hello Arthur." Whispered Merlin. Arthur gazed at him, studying his face, his clothes, and his mouth almost gave way into a awe-filled smile. And then he remembered the last time he had seen his friend, and he scowled.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Merlin smirked bitterly.

"Why can you never just say thanks?" He asked sarcastically as Arthur scrambled to sit up.

"What exactly should I be thanking you for, Merlin? For ruining the quest? For disappearing for over a year? Or how about for not telling me who you truly were?" Merlin opened his mouth as if to argue, when a third creature screeched from behind him. In the heat of their argument, neither of them had seen the brute coming. A sword tip appeared through the stomach of the monster, and it dropped down dead to reveal Gwaine stood behind it.

"Great." Arthur muttered. "This just gets better and better. Are Gwen and Morgana here too? Are we going to have a surprise party?" Gwaine grimaced.

"There're more wyverns on their way. We need to get out of here." Arthur pulled himself to his feet and pushed forward, avoiding Merlin's gaze.

"I'm not leaving without the trident. It was the whole point of this quest."

"Do you want us to help you? Or do you want to do this alone?" Called Merlin, sarcastic and, somehow, he sounded almost hopeful. Arthur stopped just outside the door, and arm against the wall to steady him.

"Merlin!" He growled in frustration. If Arthur let himself, he could imagine that this was just another one of their adventures, another one of their many spats. Merlin's stupid prattle filled his ears as they ascended the stairs, and Arthur tried not to think about the ache in his ribs at how familiar it all was. At how he had missed this with all his heart.

"Do you know where the trident is?

"If I did, there wouldn't be a problem, would there?"

"Any clues you can give us?"

"This is a quest, Merlin, not a treasure hunt."

"Well, it is sort of a..."

"Merlin!" He roared in frustration, and heard a wry chuckle from behind him. He continued up the stone spiral, when Merlin's voice from below him pulled him back.

"Look at this. Looks like a throne room." Gwaine and Arthur descended back towards Merlin side.

"If the trident's going to be anywhere–" Arthur began, but at that moment Merlin stepped forward onto a stone that sank beneath his weight.

"Merlin, watch out!" Shouted Gwaine. The last thing Arthur saw was Merlin as he stumbled into the room, Gwaine's arm pushing him forwards to prevent him being squashed by the trap door. Gwaine called out to Merlin, but his yell was drowned out by Arthur's scream.

"Merlin!" He cried out. He battered on the unyielding stone with his fist until Gwaine grabbed his arm and pressed his ear against the door. They listened for a response, but none came.

"Merlin, are you there!" he called, ignoring Gwaine's confused look at his barely concealed panic. "Merlin, damn you, answer me!"

"There's got to be a way to open this." Said Gwaine, looking around and pressing on the stones around them. Arthur pounded on the stone again. He'd start thinking rationally when he could hear that Merlin was still alive.

"Merlin! Merlin! Are you alright?" His voice was pleading now, and he couldn't stop the terror that had risen up inside him. The fates could not condemn him to losing Merlin just as soon as he'd found him.

"Arthur." Gwaine called out quietly. Arthur turned to find him pointing at a loosened stone. "Reckon this might be it." Arthur studied the chalk white brick, before yanking it out of the wall. Dozens of insects scrambled out of the hole. Arthur breathed out slowly to calm himself. He had a possible solution now.

"You're right. There should be something in here to release the door." He pulled his glove tight, and reached into the hole. After much rummaging around, his hand curled around a tiny handle, stiff and rusted with age. He yanked at it, and slowly the door began to rise.

As soon as the gap was big enough, Arthur scrambled beneath it, looking around the ancient throne room frantically. He saw Merlin stand up and approach him slowly.

"Merlin." He whispered. Before he could think about it, he had crossed the hall and thrown his arms around the man; needing to feel for himself that he was truly alive and safe. Merlin froze in shock, and after a long and frightening pause his arms wrapped around Arthur's armour, and Arthur felt Merlin's knees give way beneath him a little. He barely heard Gwaine's call that he had found the trident on the floor.

Gwaine had left to collect more firewood. Or so he said, but the look that he had sent Merlin's way told him that he wanted to leave them to deal with the heated tension in the air. Merlin and Arthur were left sat in the forest before a small fire. If he ignored the uneasiness between them, Merlin could almost imagine that nothing had changed, and this was just another of their adventures together.

"Why did you never tell me?" Arthur murmured. Merlin sighed and looked up to meet his gaze.

"I wanted to, but..." He trailed off.

"What?" A wry smile hinted at the corners of Merlin's mouth.

"You'd have chopped my head off." Arthur turned his head away, his gaze focused on something that wasn't there.

"I'm not sure what I would've done."

"And I didn't want to put you in that position." Merlin replied softly. Arthur's eyes shot to meet Merlin's.

"That's what worried you?" Merlin huffed a tiny laugh, and if it almost became a sob no one else needed to know.

"Of course it did, Arthur. If I had told you, you would have either needed to execute me, or lie to your father. I don't think either of those would have been your favourite options."

"So instead, you lied to me. Every day, from the moment we met." Merlin looked down, eyes squeezed tightly shut, a barricade against the stinging tears that threatened to show themselves. There was silence for a long time before Arthur spoke again, so softly Merlin had to strain to hear.

"And instead, you saved my life, the lives of everyone I care about, my family, my people, more times than even I know." Merlin looked back at Arthur, burning gold in the firelight, to see him staring back just as intently. "I've had a long time to think about it, Merlin. Every time a quest worked out too well, and we blamed it on our good fortune and the strength and courage of Camelot's knights. How many times did you stand there, knowing you were the sole cause of our success, unable to take credit? How many times did you sneak around, saving lives, healing people, and scurrying away before anyone saw you. Morgana told me you came to heal her when she fell. That you stayed and spoke with her. That because of you, I know about my sister, and the power she has brewing beneath her skin. How many times have you saved my life, without one word of thanks?"

"Arthur." Whimpered Merlin. He sucked in a sharp breath. "I don't do it for praise."

"Then what do you do it for?" Arthur leaned in, his voice earnest now, his eyes searching every inch of Merlin's face for an answer. "I need to know, Merlin. Why did you save me, save Camelot, save my father who hated you and everything you stood for, in return for nothing? And why couldn't I know about it all? Please, I need to know why!" Merlin opened his mouth to reply with the only answer he knew.

You, Arthur. The answer has always been you.

"I reckon we've got enough to last us the night now." Called Gwaine as he re-entered the clearing. Arthur's features closed off, and he leant back against the log behind him. Merlin swallowed his disappointment and stood, facing away from the others.

"I better check the horses." He called as he disappeared into the trees.

Merlin didn't return to camp before Arthur dozed off into a restless and unsatisfying sleep. The next morning his things had vanished and so had the man himself. Arthur and Gwaine saddled their horses and rode back to the border of Camelot.

"This is the border. By Uther's decree, I can go no further." Arthur looked back at the man.

"I'm sorry, Gwaine. Nothing I can do to change that."

"Maybe one day. When Camelot gets itself a half-decent king." Replied Gwaine, a brash smile on his face.

"Yeah, maybe one day." Gwaine gave Arthur a sharp look.

"Expected you to defend your father a bit more than that." He joked, but it was half-hearted at best, and his eyes were far too shrewd for it to be a throwaway comment. Arthur didn't reply.

"For what it's worth, this won't be the last time you see your Merlin again."

"He's not my Merlin." Arthur said sharply.

"No. Maybe work on that part next time." Smirked Gwaine. Before Arthur could think of a response he had clicked his heels and ridden off back into the trees, leaving Arthur gaping like a dead fish.

Merlin's May sky eyes twinkled in the light filtering through the windows of the throne room, his face soft, a small smile gracing his features. In the pale morning light, he seemed almost ethereal. Gone were his brown jacket and neckerchief, his rough spun servants garb. Gone too were the muddied and torn hood and cloak. He stood, clean and tall behind the throne, in robes of silver silk, spun like liquid moonlight. A thin band of silver graced his brow, so delicate it seemed as if a sharp turn of his head could shatter it.

His gaze was focussed solely on the golden figure walking through the rows of people gathered for the ceremony. Arthur seemed to be a fragment of the sun brought to earth, the gilded crown he wore working in tandem with the golden hair that had crowned him since birth. His red cape billowed behind him, and the pendragon crest embroidery caught the light as the fabric rippled. As he ascended the stairs to stand before his throne his gaze latched on the Merlin's, and he smiled; a different curling of the lips to the happy but official smile that had graced his features for the long walk down the hall. He turned to face his subjects again.

The doors opened again, and Morgana stepped into the hall. Her gown was gold silks with red embroidery, and a golden veil of shimmering lace covered her hair and fell down her back. She walked steadily, her face proud and aloof, but her green eyes shone with fire and happiness. As she approached the dais, she knelt smoothly, bowing her head towards her brother. Arthur smiled down at her, before raising his head to address the courtiers gathered.

"By the sacred laws vested in me, I pronounce you, Morgana, to be of the blood of Uther, the late King of Camelot. From this day forward, you will be Princess Morgana Pendragon. You and your line will be legitimated by the laws of this realm. I name you sister, and sole heir to the throne of Camelot." Arthur held out his hand, and Morgana placed her own delicately in his, rising to face the people. She saw Gwen beaming, her arm entwined with the man's next to her; he had silken dark hair and deep brown eyes like rich earth after the rain has passed, and he wore a Knight's armour with solemn pride. To Morgana's right was the golden locks of her sister. Morgause's features were stern, but they softened at the sight of Morgana's smile.

Morgana's eyes met her brother's, full of smug, yet good natured pride. She allowed his silent boasting. Somehow, even with so many opposing sides in this courtly game, he had found a path that pleased everyone. Morgana glanced over her shoulder, and her eyes locked on to Merlin's. His soft, quiet smile grew, and he inclined his head towards her.

Morgana jolted awake bewildered and clutching the bracelet at her wrist.

Arthur sat at the table as Guinevere set everything down, staring off to the side, his gaze unfocussed.

"Everything alright, Arthur?" Gwen asked, laying a gentle hand upon his arm.

"I'm fine, thank you Guinevere." He replied exhaustedly.

"You know you can tell me, whatever it is." Arthur paused for a long moment, considering his words carefully.

"Have you ever felt as if you have given your heart to someone, unknowingly, only to see them run halfway across the world; and you feel as though you shall never get them back."

"You know I have." Whispered Gwen. Arthur looked up at her.

"Lancelot." He said. It wasn't a question. Gwen sighed, and stood up straight.

"I let him leave, unsure as to where I stood between you both, unwilling to make promises to either one of you in case I broke them. Now, the feelings you and I might have shared have crumbled away – on both sides, I think." She gave him a knowing look. "But for that I have lost him, and I don't want to let myself hope that I will see him again, when I don't even know where he is, or whether he still cares for me." Her voice broke on a sob, and he was out of his seat and beside her in an instant embracing her through her tears.

Arthur let her cry until her tears were spent. Gwen pulled herself together, and they looked at each other for a long while.

"So, we are on the same page, you and I?" He asked. Gwen smiled.

"We both love different people. But I promise you this, Arthur, you'll see him again. He'll return to you, I know it." Had anyone else said these words to Arthur, he might have turned away and dismissed them. But Gwen had always had a certain sway with him, even without the romantic entanglement.

"You think so?"

"I know so." She replied, poking him. "Even when he was just a servant, it was always you and Merlin against the rest of the world." And with that Gwen slipped out of the room. Arthur moved towards his desk, picked up some papers that he needed to review before the council convened that afternoon, and sat back down at his table, intent on enjoying his breakfast.

His goblet slipped from his grasp, clattering across the oaken table. The wine spilt everywhere, spilling across the important parchments. Arthur noticed none of it. He could only stare in shock at the plate before him. A plate which had far fewer sausages upon it when Gwen had first set it down in front of him.

Stealing from the kitchens had become extremely taxing when the kitchen cat produced a litter of kittens. Cats, it seemed, were a nuisance when one wished to sneak around invisibly. Especially if they took a liking to you and started to wrap themselves around your legs while you tried to steal a pie of two.

So the next best option was to steal bits of Arthur's breakfast. This would be easier, of course, if he was still the one serving it, but beggars can't be choosers. So it had been for this reason that Merlin had been hidden behind a tapestry in Arthur's chambers when Gwen had asked her question.

'Even when he was just a servant, it was always you and Merlin against the rest of the world.'

Merlin slumped against the wall behind him, all breath having escaped from his body. He was sure his brain had exploded all across the wall behind him, because why else had thinking become so hard all of a sudden. All he could hear pounding through his skull were his friends' words.

Arthur loved him.

It took all of his strength not to launch himself across the room towards the man, to hold him as he sighed and ran his fingers raggedly through his blond hair. He pulled himself together long enough to make his way out of the room, summoning three of the sausages while Arthur's back was turned.

He walked away through the castle, his thoughts in a tumultuous mess. Arthur cared for him. Arthur wanted Merlin as badly as Merlin wanted Arthur. And none of this could be solved because Merlin wasn't supposed to be here in Camelot in the first place. Camelot still held laws in place against magic and those who wielded it. And until Arthur had the power to change this Merlin couldn't approach him.

Merlin needed a distraction and he needed one fast. Something that would take him away from Camelot temporarily and give him the space he needed to think, without Arthur's presence constantly surrounding him.

And then Merlin spotted Gwen, carrying her basket of folded linens, and he remembered the other side of that conversation.

Haldor, Lancelot had observed, was a place of nasty smells and nastier people. He said as much to Percival as they hid from bandits in the darkened wine cellar of a back-alley tavern.

"Thanks for that." Came the gruff reply.

"I didn't mean you." Percival snorted, and almost immediately all mirth vanished from his dimly lit features. Quiet footsteps stopped outside the door. Even as the two men lifted their weapons, Lancelot thought that this bandit was a lot lighter on his feet than most others he'd met.

The door creaked slowly open, the hooded man stepped in, and the two warriors charged. The eyes peeking out above the scarf flashed a brilliant white-gold, and the man's bare hand splayed out before them. The two men were stopped mid attack by an invisible wall that held them in place. The sorcerer's head tilted to the side. He seemed almost amused.

"Well, Lancelot. And I thought we were friends."

"Merlin?" The man dragged the scarf down to rest around his neck, revealing the smiling face of his old friend. The shield dropped, and Lancelot surged forward to embrace the man. "Percival, this is my friend, Merlin." Percival stepped forward to grip Merlin's slight hand in his own.

"You have good timing, Merlin." Merlin smirked.

"What are you doing here? Why are you dressed like a damned assassin?"

"It's an incredibly long story and…" Merlin suddenly froze, the smile eradicated from his face. "Wait." A moment's silence, and Lancelot could hear running footsteps approaching the cellar fast. Before either him or Percival could react, two bandits rounded the corner. Merlin's hand shot out towards them, and the pair went flying back, their heads cracking against the opposite wall. Merlin turned back to them.

"We should probably get moving." He continued.

Half an hour later, the three men were riding along the road, the city fading into the distance behind them. They reached a fork in the road, and Merlin headed straight for the path on the right.

"Merlin, that way leads to Camelot, you know I won't travel back there." Called Lancelot.

"So I suppose you want me to tell Gwen you're not interested in seeing her again?" Merlin called over his shoulder.

Lancelot's horse almost left Percival's in the dirt.

It took a while for Gwen to release her tight grip on the poker in her hand after she found Merlin waiting for her in her house.

"You can't be here. If you were spotted coming in–"

"Gwen, I've been living in Camelot for months now. Trust me, I wasn't seen." He was leaning against the edge of her table nonchalantly.

"For months? How? Where have you been hiding? What have you been doing?"

"I've been hiding everywhere," He said flippantly, "and what I've been doing is what I have done from the moment I first arrived years ago."

"And that is?"

"Protecting Arthur." He said bluntly. "Protecting my friends. Protecting my home." His tone was so sincere all of a sudden, that Gwen's outstretched arm dropped a foot in surprise.

"I heard you both talking the other day, when you brought him his breakfast." He murmured. "I heard what you said about Lancelot." Gwen gasped.

"Merlin." She whispered, laying the poker down on her table with a trembling hand.

"I rode out to Haldor two days ago to find him." He said, standing straight and moving towards her slowly. "Gwen, he's here. Lancelot is on the outskirts of Camelot, waiting to see you again. If Morgana relieves you of your duties tomorrow, you can spend the day with him." Merlin's face broke out into a grin, reminiscent of his huge beaming smile that Gwen missed terribly, but not quite there. Gwen dropped to her knees, picking up the firewood she had dropped as she entered, and pushing her way past Merlin, whose smile had vanished at her silence.

"Gwen?" He asked hesitantly. Gwen dropped the bundle of firewood into her basket in the corner, and turned to face him.

"Lancelot wishes to spend the day with me?"

"I thought you'd be happy."

"It isn't that simple. He isn't meant to be here in Camelot. Surely he'd get into trouble if he were caught. And I can't just skip my duties. If anyone were to find out...What if someone sees us?"

"I'll take you to meet him outside the city. Lancelot's willing to take the risk...if you are." Gwen bit her lip, and looked away.

"Should I tell him you won't meet him?" Asked Merlin, already turning towards the door.

"No." Merlin returned to her side, and amused smile pulling at his lips. He placed his hands firmly on her shoulders.

"You like him."

"Yes." Gwen admitted.

"He likes you." Gwen hummed in shy agreement.

"Isn't that all that really matters?" Gwen gazed up into Merlin's shining blue eyes.

"I suppose it is."

"Then I will come back in the morning." Announced Merlin, twirling back towards the door. Gwen stepped towards him, about to argue again, when Merlin smiled at her, gesturing for her to relax. As he left, Gwen had the sudden urge to dance around her house squealing like a child.

Stealing food for two was only mildly more difficult than stealing for one, and made a lot easier since Merlin had found out how to keep the damn kittens away from trying to climb up to his shoulders. Stealing blankets and pillows was an entirely different issue. He would have been at the point of tearing his hair out if it weren't for Morgana.

"Merlin, I know you're there." She called out after Gwen had left her room for the evening. Merlin sighed and dropped the invisibility spell. Morgana smirked at him in the mirror.

"How did you know?" He asked.

"Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no lies." She teased. Her smile softened. "Gwen told me what you've done for her."

"It's nothing."

"Oh it's nothing, is it, to ride for two days searching for her lost love? Nothing at all to bring him back and hide him outside of the city? Absolutely nothing to set up their reunion right under my father's nose?"

"You make it sound like far more work than it was." Said Merlin, ducking his head down and scratching at the back of his neck shyly.

"Still. You've made Gwen happy, and I want to help. Morgana stood up from her dressing table and glided across the room to her wardrobe. On the top shelf was a heap of cushions and blankets. She placed them carefully in Merlin's arms.

"I thought this would be an easier option than attempting to rob the laundry room."

"Thank you, Morgana."

Merlin handed the pile of fabric off to Percival, who had joined them in Camelot and was viciously teasing Lancelot every time he began to brood and fret over seeing Guinevere again.

The next morning Merlin had opened Gwen's door to see her walk out from behind a curtain, dressed in a lovely gown of pale pink, tiny flowers braided into her hair. Merlin stared at her, and smiled.

"What?" Asked Gwen, looking worried.

"You look lovely." Merlin said, and was rewarded with Gwen's relief and a beaming smile.

Gwen sighed as Lancelot gave her one last kiss.

"When Arthur is king, you can return to Camelot fully, and take your rightful place as a Knight."

"I will count the days until then." He replied, gently caressing her cheek with his thumb. He pulled her close once again, stealing another chaste kiss, that deepened as she ran her fingers through his hair. She pulled away with a sigh, gave him one last parting smile, and took Merlin's arm as he began to escort her back to the city.

They walked in comfortable silence for the most part, and Merlin opened the door for her as they reached it. He turned to leave, and Gwen's arm shot out to catch his wrist before she even thought about it.

"Merlin." He turned, and Gwen gazed up at her old friend, a man who had backed her corner at every turn. A man who, even when she had left him friendless in his hour of need, had come back to her side regardless of his own safety to help her find her own happiness.

"Thank you. For everything, but especially for today. And I'm sorry for doubting you. I should have known that, magic or no magic, you'd never betray Arthur." Merlin's eyes, glowing gold as he maintained a spell to keep them from being noticed as they wandered through the lower town, faded to blue as the door shut behind him and he looked away.

"I am Arthur's friend, even if he is not mine, and I will stand by his side, protecting him, till the day I die."

"Just a friend?" She waited for a reply that did not seem to be swift in coming. "Merlin, if you heard what I said to Arthur, you know the other side of that conversation."

"Leave it Gwen."

"Merlin, you deserve to be happy." She said, clasping his hands in hers. He pulled away.

"My happiness is irrelevant. It can't ever come to pass, no matter how much we both want it."

"So, you do love him?"

"Of course I do, Gwen. How could I not after everything? But I can't do anything about it so what on earth is the use?" He said, yanking the scarf off his face in frustration. Gwen nodded knowingly.

"You can't come back to Camelot until Uther is dead and magic is no longer outlawed. I understand."

"No Gwen. Even then I cannot make Arthur choose between me and his kingdom. Camelot needs him, Albion will need him. He will have to marry to make alliances. He'll need heirs. Even if it were possible to love a servant, he can't love a male servant, not at the expense of the kingdom." Gwen gazed back into the tortured blue eyes that held nothing but despair in their depths, and swallowed back her argument. Now was not the time to convince him otherwise. She sighed in defeat.

"Merlin, sooner or later, you'll need to learn to take your own advice."

Morgana sat at her dressing table, fiddling and fidgeting. Morgause had gone quiet, unusually so. Morgana hadn't heard from her in weeks, and much as she tried to reassure herself that her sister was well and nothing was wrong, she couldn't help but fret over the lengthy silence. Morgause could be in danger, and that could only bring foreboding darkness to her family.

And her family had grown since Merlin had healed her. Gwen was comfortable in her presence again, and Morgana couldn't contain her happiness at having her friend back by her side once more. Arthur was closer to her now than ever before, and she revelled in the proud looks he sent her when he saw her do something good. It was a deeper, more meaningful contentment than the hollow pleasure she had felt when she had been working against him.

She also watched carefully for the little ticks in his facial expressions whenever Uther was his harsh and gruelling self, how Arthur would hide his grimaces and frowns at his father's judgements, only to lock eyes with her, and reveal his true feelings. And in the depths of those blue orbs she saw his promise to her, time and time again.

It will change. I will change it for you.

Arthur embraced his old friend with something akin to shock. He had reported Leon's death to Uther with as much stoic dignity as he could muster, but had wept for him in the privacy of his own chambers. Now he returned, health restored, if a little tired, and seeming even more shocked than Arthur himself.

"We thought you were dead for sure." He exclaimed.

"I was dead, or as good as, until the druids found me." Arthur felt his father tense up beside him, and the large room suddenly felt stiflingly small.

"Druids?" Questioned his father quietly.

"Yes, My Lord. I owe them my life."

"How did they heal you?" Asked the king in a soft voice, stepping closer to the knight. "You were as good as dead, you said."

"I don't know."

"Did they use magic?"

"Well… I..." Leon stuttered, looking as if he were about to keel over and leave them once again. It took all of Arthur's self-restraint to keep from forcefully shutting his father up and personally dragging his second in command to Gaius' apartments.

"Yes or no, it's a simple enough question."

"I only know that I drank from some kind of cup, Sire."

"Cup?"

"It was extraordinary, My Lord. I have known nothing like it. From the moment it touched my lips, I could feel my life return to me."

The hall had gone deathly silent, the tension in the room was palpable. Arthur was about to open his mouth and say something, anything, to make his father leave Leon be. But Uther turned away.

"Well, your trials have left you weary, I'm sure. We must let him rest."

Gaius left Leon's room, mentally preparing himself for the conversation the King was undoubtedly about to force upon him, and with a deep breath in he turned to face the music.

"Well?" Asked Uther, quietly and without patience.

"It's remarkable, Sire. He bears no sign of any kind of wound. He's in perfect health."

Gaius saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and struggled to keep the shock from his face. Standing in plain sight just behind the king, was Merlin. The dark haired young man took only a moment to take in the scene before him, before putting a finger silently to his lips. His eyes flashed, and he disappeared from sight.

"And the cup he spoke of?" Gaius blinked, and dragged his attention back to the king.

"From his description, I would say it was the Cup of Life."

"You are aware of its power, Gaius." Said Uther through gritted teeth.

"I am, indeed, Sire. But the druids are a peaceful people. They would only ever use the Cup for good. Sir Leon is surely proof of that."

"Be that as it may, according to Sir Leon's description, the druids' cave lies within Cenred's kingdom. It is imperative that we get to the Cup before he does."

"My Lord, druids are secretive by nature. They will have the Cup well hidden. Might it not be wise to leave it where it is?" Insisted Gaius.

"I'm not prepared to take that risk." And with that, Uther marched back along the corridor. Only seconds after he had passed the place Merlin stood, the boy materialised back into view before his eyes.

"Merlin!" Hissed Gaius.

"Shhhh." He whispered. Gaius glanced around in barely contained panic. If anyone had seen, the consequences would be more than he could stomach.

"Let us discuss this in your chambers." Murmured Merlin. With another flash of gold, he was once again hidden from view, and Gaius breathed a sigh of relief. Slowly, he made his way back to his chambers. Whenever he turned around to check for his young charge, he felt a slight tap on his shoulder, and was reassured. As he closed the door behind them, he turned to see Merlin once more become visible to him, and the old man let out a cry of happiness and relief at the sight of his surrogate son.

"Gaius." Exclaimed Merlin, opening his arms as the old man fell upon him in a familial embrace.

"You're here! Merlin! How have you managed to sneak back in?"

"Gaius, I've been here for months now." He laughed. Gaius pulled back to take in the sight of him.

"How?"

"Hiding is easy now, what with all the tricks I've learnt." Merlin replied. The answer was casual enough, but the jerky shrug of his shoulders told Gaius it wasn't as simple a matter as the young man would have him believe.

Now that they were safely hidden in his own apartments, he could really study the boy. He was paler then he remembered, his cheekbones more pronounced. His dark and tattered hooded robe was dirt encrusted, and when Gaius held the boy he realised just how loose they were. His smile was not as bright, and his eyes had lost some of their shine.

In short, the world had taken a chunk out of Merlin, and Gaius found himself fighting back tears at the dazzling image that came to mind; of a vivid young boy, magic dripping from his fingertips, and a bounce in his step. That boy was gone – Gaius' boy was gone. In his place was a man built of harsh lines and power that stewed beneath the surface, ready to melt the world around him and reshape it more to his liking.

"Let's sit." Said Merlin, ushering his old mentor to the table. "We need to discuss the cup." Gaius forced a grim smile on his face.

"Of course, my dear boy." Merlin swept around the table to seat himself opposite the physician. Gaius noticed that he held himself with an almost lethal grace now. Gone was the clumsiness of his years as a servant. He had also positioned himself to face the door, a note of wariness that was not lost on Gaius.

"I thought the Cup was destroyed with Nimueh when I defeated her on the Isle of the Blessed." Began Merlin in a hushed tone.

"The Cup cannot be destroyed. Its magic is eternal, unbound by time or place."

"But why does Uther fear it so much?"

"Because the Cup can be used for evil as well as good." Insisted Gaius.

"I don't understand."

"Many centuries ago, it fell into the possession of a great warlord. One night, he gathered his army before him. He took a drop of blood from each and every man and collected it in the Cup. Such was the vessel's power that the soldiers were made immortal where they stood. The carnage they wrought was beyond all imagining. The King's no fool. He knows that the forces of the Old Religion are rising against him once more. Heaven forbid that the Cup should fall into the hands of any of his many enemies."

"Like Cenred." Growled Merlin. "That bracelet Arthur wore when he ventured to the perilous lands. I tracked down it's true sender. Needless to say, it wasn't from Lord Godwin."

"Cenred?" Marvelled Gaius, shocked. "But how would he get hold of such a thing?" Merlin shook his head bitterly.

"I wasn't able to find out. He must have a powerful sorcerer on his side."

"It cannot be Morgana. I am sure she bears Arthur no ill will. Perhaps it is Morgause."

"I doubt it. She wants whatever her sister wants. If Morgana is happy, Morgause will be content."

"Whoever it is, Merlin," Insisted Gaius, "with such a weapon at their disposal, Camelot would be all but lost."

"You called for me, Father?" Said Arthur as he approached Uther. The King was clearly agitated.

"Cenred is our sworn enemy. We cannot risk him getting his hands on the Cup of Life."

"I know, Father."

"You must retrieve it from the druids. Your mission must remain secret; you can speak to no one of this."

"I will take only my most trusted men." He reassured.

"We've seen what happened to the last patrol that entered Cenred's land. You must go alone. I'm sorry to place such a burden upon you, but there is no one else I can trust." Arthur swallowed in trepidation.

"I understand, Father." Arthur waited until his father's steps had faded into the distance, and sighed.

"Morgana, I know you're there." A swish of silks, and Morgana stepped out from behind a pillar.

"Is the cup of life as dangerous as he says?" She questioned in a small voice. Arthur sighed.

"Yes." He admitted. A soft and delicate silence descended over the siblings.

"You can't go."

"Not here. You've just proved how easy it is to eavesdrop in these corridors." Morgana bit her lip, and nodded.

"Your chambers then."

"Lead the way then, my lady." They ventured down the halls of the citadel together, each sibling lost in their own thoughts. When they reached Arthur's room, however, they were in for quite the shock.

"Merlin!" Exclaimed Arthur. Seated at his table, hunched over in the darkness, silhouetted by the sliver of moonlight that crept through the window was the man himself.

"Close the door." Even as his heart raced at the shock, Arthur had to scoff.

"Are you giving me orders in my own chambers now?"

"Unless you wish to discuss the cup with the whole castle able to listen in?" Asked Merlin in a sardonic tone. Arthur opened his mouth but was muzzled by a sharp look from his sister's biting jade eyes.

"It's so good to see you again Merlin." She murmured, as she glided across the room and sat down beside him. Arthur sighed, cutting his losses. He was intelligent enough to realise that once the two most strident people in his life teamed up against him he was doomed. He shoved the door shut and sat down at the head of the table between the two sorcerers.

"And you know about the cup, how exactly."

"Because, contrary to popular belief, I am clever, and I know how to get around the citadel without anyone knowing I'm there." Retorted Merlin. Even in the darkness of the room, Arthur could see that those mesmerizingly blue eyes sparkled with mirth, and he had to smile at the familiarity of it all.

"Arthur rides at dawn." Answered Morgana, bringing the conversation back to the topic at hand. "He's been sent to recover the Cup of Life from Cenred's kingdom."

"Morgana, this quest is supposed to be a secret. You can't just go telling anyone about it."

"And Merlin isn't just anyone." Argued Morgana.

"Who goes with you?" Interrupted Merlin. "Which knights?" Arthur sighed.

"None of them." He admitted. "My father wishes for me to go alone." Merlin's gaze snapped to meet his own defiantly.

"You are not going to Essetir on your own." Challenged the Warlock.

"Merlin, I am the Crown Prince of Camelot. You can't tell me what I can and can't do, and you can't forbid me from obeying my father's orders and protecting my kingdom."

"Watch me." Growled Merlin.

"Calm down the pair of you." Demanded Morgana. The room stilled at her tone. "I agree with you Merlin. Arthur, it's far too dangerous for one man alone, even you."

"What would you both have me do then? Leave the cup for Cenred to find?"

"Not a bad idea if it's safely hidden by the druids." Muttered Merlin.

"Shut up Merlin. You know that's not an option. My father wouldn't allow it." Merlin groaned, and ran his hands raggedly through his untidy hair.

"So nothing I can say will stop you from going to Essetir."

"Nothing." Arthur stated with finality. Merlin exhaled heavily in frustration.

"Then that settles it. I'll meet you in the woods beyond the castle at dawn." He decided, rising from his seat in a flash and making his way towards the door as if the conversation was settled. Arthur scoffed.

"Merlin, what part of alone do you never understand?" He barked, rising up from his own seat. Merlin turned to face him, his face suddenly thrown into focus as the moonlight hit him square on.

"Uther said you cannot have the knights accompany you, but he said nothing about a sorcerer."

"Correction, he said nothing about two sorcerers." Articulated Morgana. Arthur whirled back around to her.

"No. Absolutely not."

"Rare as it is Morgana, I have to agree with Arthur." Affirmed Merlin quietly.

"Think I can't handle it, Merlin?" Asked the raven-haired lady, with a dangerous layer of ice in her voice.

"Absolutely not, you'd probably be a better escort than myself, but–"

"Escort? Since when do I need an escort?" Interrupted Arthur indignantly. Merlin ignored him and continued.

"But, Uther will notice if you leave Camelot, and will be in uproar the moment he finds you gone. I'm sorry, Morgana, but not this time." Morgana lowered her eyes and nodded in reluctant understanding.

"You're still not coming with me, Merlin." Arthur fumed. Merlin looked down at him, with that look of incensed indignation he always wore whenever he was close to snapping. It was the face that made Arthur feel like a sulky child.

"Since when do you have a choice in the matter?" Snapped the warlock. The two men stared each other down for a long moment. Arthur knew that he should keep fighting, but found his resolve crumbling at the inhumanly sharp look in Merlin's eyes.

"Fine." He grouched.

"Fine." Merlin shot back.

"But if you're late, I'll leave without you." Arthur added, sinking back into his seat reluctantly.

"Why is that not surprising." Taunted Merlin. A soft sound of leather on stone, the door hinges creaked, and Arthur knew he was gone. And try as he might, he could rid himself of the bubbling feeling in the pit of his stomach. He could almost call it excitement.

Every muscle strained and ached against the chains that lay cold and heavy on her collarbones and wrists. Her knees throbbed from being pressed to the hard, stone floor for weeks on end. Her long blond hair was lank, full of oil and dirt, and hung limp and bedraggled around her shoulders. Her red dress, once sumptuous and elegant, was now caked in grime and filth. And Morgause could only glare up in hatred at her captor as he smirked down at her.

He laughed, and she felt the chains burn hot again. She screamed in agony. When she was free – and she would be free again – the second thing she planned to do was hunt down whoever had sourced these magic-binding, hell-forged chains and rip them limb from limb.

The first would be to kill the man who held them now.

"It is always such a lovely sight to see. You, kneeling at my feet, Morgause."

"Cenred, I promise no matter what you do, I will never betray my sister. Unleash what torments you wish. I'll give you nothing." She spat.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that." Countered the King. Morgause refrained from asking what he meant. She refused to bait him and fan his ego. Cenred crouched beside her, and caught her chin in his hand.

"For if you do not help me, I'll just have to find your pretty sister. Without your protection, she is more than a little vulnerable, don't you think. Now, you might be able to withstand the power of these chains indefinitely, but how long do you think Morgana would last? All caged up and burnt out. Would you wish that fate on your little sister?" Morgause fought against the tears that threatened to well up at the image Cenred created. Morgana, her neck encircled in the same chains that even now encased her own, tears streaming down her face as Cenred burnt her flesh.

"Now do you see it my way?" Asked Cenred, his voice low and crawling across her skin. She nodded woodenly, unable to trust her voice. "Good." He breathed, before yanking her up by her neck, and forcefully dragging her towards a table before the fire in his throne room. She recognised the materials at once.

"You cannot expect me to use magic, while you shackle me in chains which bind my power."

"Ah, but these are specially forged, just for you, my pet. You see, if I take hold of them like so," Morgause choked suddenly, bringing her manacled hands up to scratch uselessly at her throat, as Cenred yanked her collar and pulled her flush against him, her aching back pressed against his unyielding leather armour. "I can order you to do as I command, and the chains will allow you to perform whatever magic I require of you." He chuckled in her ear as she barely supressed the growl of rage desperate to claw its way up her throat.

"Now, my pretty caged creature. Tell me what plans my enemies in Camelot are hatching." The collar flared and glowed, burning ice cold this time instead of hot. He threw her towards the table, and Morgause just managed to stop herself from falling to the ground. She hissed as her hips collided painfully with the thick wooden edge. Taking a moment to right herself, she gazed into the waters of the stone basin and began to chant. Soon enough images rose to the surface. Uther paced in a small hallway, and Arthur approached.

You called for me, Father?

Cenred is our sworn enemy. We cannot risk him getting his hands on the Cup of Life.

I know, Father.

You must retrieve it from the druids. Your mission must remain secret; you can speak to no one of this.

I will take only my most trusted men.

We've seen what happened to the last patrol that entered Cenred's land. You must go alone. I'm sorry to place such a burden upon you, but there is no one else I can trust.

I understand, Father.

A hand reached around her shoulder to dash away the image in the waters. Morgause turned to find Cenred smiling at the basin, his expression tinged with something akin to awe.

"The Cup of Life they say? In my kingdom? With that in my possession, Camelot would soon by at my mercy."

"It's in the hands of the druids. How do you intend to find them?"

"Quite simply, my dear Morgause, I don't have to find them. I will have my spies watching the border. And Arthur Pendragon will lead me all the way to the Cup itself."

"Arthur?" Morgana called, as she made her way down the steps to the courtyard. The squire who attended her brother dutifully stepped away as Morgana came to see him off.

"Arthur, there is something I think you should know. It could be nothing, but I haven't had any contact from my sister in weeks, months now."

"Morgause?" Questioned Arthur, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "You still keep contact with her?"

"She is my sister, just as you are my brother. She cares for me, and only wants to see my happiness." She reassured.

"But you say she hasn't contacted you in months?"

"It's not like her."

"Are you sure she is still on your side?" Cautioned the Prince.

"I know she is, she would never betray me. But I fear something terrible has befallen her. And if anyone would be able to overpower Morgause, it would be Cenred. Be careful Arthur." She implored, grasping his arm tightly. "Stay safe." Arthur smiled warmly down at her, before mounting his horse.

"Don't worry about me, Morgana. Worry about Merlin. That idiot is bound to get himself in trouble somehow."

"I wouldn't wish for anyone else at your back." Replied Morgana, sincerely. She might not have quite forgiven Merlin for what he did to her, but only a fool could think he'd let anything happen to Arthur. Arthur's eyes lowered, and if she didn't know him better, Morgana could say he looked shy.

"Neither do I." He murmured, and with that revelation, he took the reins of his horse well in hand, and rode out of the gates.

Merlin watched, his head uncovered and his scarf hanging loose around his neck, as Arthur approached through the trees, golden hair glinting in the pale morning sun. He clicked, and his own horse trotted forward to meet Arthur's in the middle of the road. Arthur pulled up beside him.

"So, we're off on an adventure again." He began brightly.

"Shut up Merlin." Growled the Prince.

"Did someone not have his breakfast this morning?" Taunted Merlin. Arthur's mouth screwed up, the way it always did when he was particularly irritated.

"Oh, I had breakfast this morning, but somehow, my sausages went missing." Merlin bit his lip hard, desperately trying not to laugh like a giddy child. The glint in Arthur's deep blue eyes was dangerous, the look very familiar to Merlin. That was the look he had when he was about to throw something, or reach out and smack him around the head.

"Really?"

"Hmmm." Nodded Arthur. "And the funny thing is, I was sure I saw those sausages were there when my servant put my plate down."

"You must have a pretty terrible servant." Replied Merlin, his tone all innocence. "Stealing your breakfast like that? Unthinkable behaviour." He stared straight ahead, anticipating the blow that was bound to come. Instead, he heard a choked off laugh from beside him.

"Merlin, I have only ever had one servant who stole the breakfast directly from my plate." Merlin laughed, loud and long and clear, and was so startled by the sound he almost fell from his saddle. When was the last time he laughed?

"Sounds like an awful servant." He whimpered, through tears of laughter. Arthur was shaking besides him, bent double over his horse with the same fit of mirth.

"No. No, actually he wasn't." The laughter faded in the air, as Merlin gazed at Arthur. Arthur stared back, and soft smile on his face. "He was, in fact the best servant I ever had."

Merlin wasn't sure what to do. He wanted to smile and he wanted to cry. He wasn't sure that he wasn't already doing both.

"And I couldn't be more glad that he came home." Confided Arthur.

"Which way was the Prince heading?" Asked Cenred, as he lounged decadently in his throne.

"For the Forest of Essetir, My Lord."

"Send word to the scouts in the area; they must be prepared."

"Yes, Sire." The knight turned and quickly marched from the room.

"And you think that your scouts can be relied upon?" Ventured Morgause. Cenred smirked, and rolled his head lazily to look at her.

"Of course. I handpicked them myself." She snorted contemptuously.

"Funny, I find that infinitely reassuring."

"Do not concern yourself, My Lady." He called out, mockingly. "The Cup of Life will soon be in my hands, and when it is, Camelot will be mine."

"You forget yourself, Cenred." She spat. "It is my sister's brother that will sit on that throne, and then Morgana will succeed him. You have no right to that Sovereignty."

"No, you're right. By blood, I have no possible connection to the throne of Camelot. However," He roused himself from his seat with feline grace, and strolled over to where she knelt "If I were to marry into the Pendragon family…" He allowed his words to linger in the air, watching the witch carefully for the realisation to hit home. He saw the horror light up her eyes.

"Morgana." She breathed. He chuckled.

"Now you see, my dear Morgause. And who knows?" He rose up, strolling away from her. "If you're particularly good, pet, I'll even let you attend the wedding."

Arthur gazed down at Merlin, still unconscious beneath him. Slowly, but surely, the long dark lashes began to flutter, and two startlingly blue eyes opened, and squinted at their surroundings. Arthur reached down, and slapped Merlin's face to wake him properly. In this pit of ruffians, it wouldn't do for either of them to be incapacitated. Merlin's eyes focused, and he promptly scowled.

"What was that you were saying about me being a pessimist?"

"Must've slipped my mind." As he pulled Merlin to his feet, a hand latched onto his shoulder. Without looking, he grabbed the offending limb.

"Touch me again, you die."

"Gwaine?" Blurted Merlin, an expression of delighted surprise coating his features. Arthur turned, and there was Gwaine, in all his roguish glory.

"No manners, you royals." He said, sarcasm dripping from his words. He turned to Merlin, and his face softened slightly. "Merlin, old friend, you look terrible." He clapped Merlin on both shoulders in a friendly manner.

"Likewise." Replied Merlin with a grin.

"What are you doing here?" Asked Arthur incredulously.

"Well, you know, wrong place, wrong time, wrong drink."

"Nothing's changed there, then."

"That's just not fair." Countered Gwaine, slapping him on the chest with the back of his hand.

"Where exactly are we?"

"The bowls of an old castle. Belongs to a fellow named Jarl."

"Never heard of him."

"Lovely bloke. Slave trader."

"We're going to be sold as slaves?" Questioned Merlin, a look of pure disgust descending upon his face. Gwaine moved to answer him, but was interrupted by a coarse voice from above them.

"Right, you filthy vermin. Which one of you's ready to face my champion in the arena?" They all looked up to see a weasel face man grinning down at them all.

"No volunteers?" He continued. "Well, I shall have to choose one of you toe rags myself, then. Let me see. How about…" He surveyed his captives dramatically, before his eyes lighted upon Merlin.

"You." Arthur's heart leapt up into his throat, even as Merlin innocently looked around the pit, assuming the fateful grubby finger had alighted upon some other poor soul.

"Me?"

"Death or glory, boy. You should be honoured." Taunted the slaver. Throwing caution to the wind, the words toppled from Arthur's lips before he thought it through. Powerful sorcerer or not, he'd be damned if he saw Merlin dragged out to fight some big brute with a broadsword or mace ready to take his head off.

"Who is this so-called champion? Can he crush nothing but weaklings like this?" He called out contemptuously. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Merlin turn his head slowly to watch him.

"You think you could offer a better contest?"

"I guarantee it." Boasted Arthur.

"Arthur, no." Ordered Merlin in a quiet but deadly voice.

"Very well. But if you lose, I'll feed your little friend to the crows, piece by stinking piece. Are you ready, my champion?"

"I am." Called Gwaine. Both Merlin and Arthur turned around simultaneously to look at their friend. Gwaine could only shrug unhappily at them in apology.

"So according to Merlin here, if you tell me where this Cup is, you have to kill me." Merlin heard from up ahead.

"That's correct." Answered Arthur.

"You may as well tell me, then. I mean, let's be honest, you couldn't kill me even if you wanted to." Merlin sighed at the taunting lilt in Gwaine's voice. He was too tired to be dealing with petty, grouchy knights right now. They had a long way to travel, no horses, and danger on all sides. And these two were having a damned pissing contest.

"Yeah? Try me." Sneered Arthur.

"I already did. Back in the arena. I had you banged to rights, did I not?"

"That was just a game."

"Oh, a game, right. I won that game, did I not?"

"No, you didn't. One more minute..."

"Oh, you flatt..."

And Merlin had had enough.

"One more minute and you both would've been dead. Neither of you won. Your plan was a half-baked disaster, and if it was not for that fire we would all be pushing up daisies." He insisted, before pushing past and stomping on ahead.

"That was a perfectly timed fire, you know." Called Arthur cattily. "Almost as if it were magic."

"You're lucky Arthur." He shot back. "For some reason, I keep thinking you're better alive than dead."

Emrys.

Merlin turned at the whisper that echoed through his head. Iseldir stood, for all intents and purposes the very picture of calm. But his eyes bore into Merlin's own.

The Cup is in your care now. Guard it well. The future of this land depends on it.

Merlin swallowed uneasily, and hurried after his friends.

"Hard work this quest business." Quipped Gwaine.

"Trust me, it's a great deed we did here today."

"Are you sure the Cup wasn't safer with the druids?" Merlin murmured uneasily. Arthur sighed.

"No I'm not. But I cannot directly disobey an order from the King. Once the Cup is placed deep in the vaults of Camelot, it will be safe. I promise."

"Yeah, but we have to get it there first." Countered Merlin.

"We're approaching the border of Cenred's lands. Beyond the forest lies Camelot." Announced Arthur.

"And food and water and a nice hot bath." Merlin stumbled as Arthur's arm shot out in front of him, halting their progress in its tracks.

"Quiet. Listen." They stayed silent for a moment, alert.

"I don't hear anything."

"Exactly."

"Never satisfied, you city types." Quipped Gwaine. "It's too noisy, it's too quiet–" The forest seemed to spring to life as a troupe of Cenred's men jumped out of hiding, weapons drawn.

"Run!" Roared Arthur. The three of them scattered. Merlin's first instinct was to stay by Arthur, but two men would be more of a target to their pursuers. He veered to the right and kept running, his ears straining for the slightest noise to indicate that his friends were in trouble.

A strangled cry echoed through the air, and Merlin's chest constricted painfully. He'd been in battle with Arthur too many times not to recognise his yell of pain. He twisted sharply to the left and pushed himself harder, faster.

He came upon a knight bearing the crest of Essetir just as he held the cup aloft. Without hesitation Merlin threw his hand out before him, and the soldier went flying. The cup spun out of the man's hands into the air, glinting gold in the sunlight filtering through the trees. Merlin darted after it, and watched in horror as it fell just out of reach. It rolled down the hill and bounced fatefully into the waiting hands of another enemy soldier. The four knights sped off into the forest, but just as Merlin began to search for a way down the steep drop, he heard his friend's voice.

"Merlin" Cried Gwaine, and Merlin knew that something was very wrong with Arthur if Gwaine was willing to risk his position by calling for Merlin's aid. For a moment he stood, torn between rescuing the cup or running to Arthur's side. In the end, the choice was inevitable.

By nightfall, they had thrown off the soldiers, and Gwaine had set about collecting firewood while Merlin carefully settled Arthur down and removed the broken arrow point from Arthur's leg. The arrow had pierced the back of Arthur's thigh, and would have made running nigh on impossible, even if he had been conscious. Gwaine watched as Merlin addressed the worryingly deep tear.

"Right. That doesn't look too great." Said Gwaine as he got his first proper look at the wound. Merlin's face was grim.

"Arrow must've been poisoned. He's got a fever, we need to keep him warm."

"I don't get it. Why all this bother over a cup?" Asked Gwaine, watching his friend as he set about getting the Prince settled, covering him with his own cloak.

"Because in the wrong hands it can become a terrible weapon." Replied Merlin, his tone ominous.

"Not so great Cenred's got it, then." Quipped Gwaine half-heartedly. Merlin's eyes locked with his own, and the expression in them told Gwaine more than he wanted to know.

"It's worse than you can possibly imagine."

Morgause hissed as Cenred pulled her along by her leash before his colossal army. The black-haired man twirled the stem of the cup between his fingers and his palm as he walked, before setting it down before Morgause. He turned to face his soldiers, and addressed them in his usual theatrical fashion.

"Loyal friends, our time is at hand. From today no sword will fell you, no spear will stop you short. Your blood will not be spilled in vain, but in victory. You march with the mightiest weapon of them all; immortality." And with that, he reached a powerful hand around her neck, before gripping her at the back of her collar.

"Do it, pet." Morgause grimaced as the collar grew ice cold against her neck – a sensation she was sure she would never become accustomed to. The first man stepped forward, and offered his hand to her.

Her fingers gripped the hilt of the knife before she could snatch her hand back, and even as she wished to shriek and rail against this all-encompassing control, she heard her own voice spitting out the necessary spell.

Arthur awoke coughing and spluttering. For a moment, he wondered why he was asleep on the cold and uneven ground. Then he remembered the quest and jolted to full consciousness.

"Where's the Cup?" His gaze shot to where Merlin was blinking the last dregs of sleep away. His heavy cloak was gone, and Arthur noticed it was curled around his own form instead.

It dawned on Arthur that this was the first time he had seen the man without the heavy, mud-spattered robe. Underneath was that old baggy blue tunic, the colours dejectedly muted and faded from harsh washing and wringing out in muddy rivers and streams. Merlin had always been scrawny, but now he was lithe and sinewy, built on sharp lines wrought by tough hungry winters and the strenuous activity that came with being alone and hunted. Arthur forced his eyes back to Merlin's face and the more pressing issue at hand.

"Where's the Cup?" He insisted a second time.

"Cenred's men, they took it." Answered Merlin dejectedly.

"Then what are we still doing here?" Yelled Arthur

"You were unconscious."

"Always an excuse, Merlin." He scrambled to his feet. White hot pain shot up his leg, and the limb spasmed beneath him before giving way. Arthur cried out, and would have dropped back to the ground again if two thin but firm hands hadn't grasped him safely on either side of his waist and helped him upright. He furiously ignored how nice those hands had felt there, and steadied himself.

"We have to get back to Camelot before it's too late"

Morgana turned away from the knights fruitlessly readying themselves for an impossible battle, and managed through sheer willpower to keep her tears at bay. She was Camelot's Lady; it would not help morale for the men to see her panicking and whimpering as they prepared themselves to be slaughtered the next morning.

She slipped past the door to her chambers, and leant against it with a sigh as it shut behind her. As she stepped around the corner towards her bed, she saw Gwen stood at the window shaking her head.

"Gwen?" Gwen whirled around at the sound of her voice, her face stricken with fear.

"Is it true they attack at dawn?" Morgana swallowed in disgust at the thought.

"I'm afraid so."

"And no word from Arthur?" Asked Gwen tentatively. Morgana stared at the ceiling, desperately praying that her eyes stayed dry, constraining her fear for her family. Both Morgause and Arthur were out of reach and the thought terrified her more than anything.

"Nothing." She whispered.

"Then all is lost." Whimpered Guinevere. "We'll be massacred, every last one of us."

Morgana studied her oldest friend – who, like her, was desperate to keep herself together, because there was no room for weakness or fear in the middle of this siege – and her heart throbbed at the thought that she had once almost wished her dead. Her quest for power and vengeance had almost torn away everything worth loving. And now she was reconciled with those she cared for, only to see it ripped apart by Cenred's greed.

And suddenly Morgana burned with vicious, angry fire.

"Gwen, listen to me. When we lose tomorrow – don't look at me like that, you know the truth as well as I do! When we lose tomorrow, I want you to stay alive, whatever the cost."

"Morgana, I don't understand." Morgana strode forward and grasped Guinevere's hands in hers.

"I don't know where Arthur is, or where my sister is. I don't know whether they are dead and rotting in a field somewhere. I don't know whether we'll manage a daring rescue this time. So, when Cenred delivers his conquering speeches from Camelot's throne room tomorrow, I want you to do whatever he says. Whatever you need to do to stay alive. If that means you have to stand and clap happily when he executes Uther, do it. If that means to stand and serve him grapes with a smile, do so. If he asks you to sit there and denounce me as your friend, and betray me–"

"No, Morgana, I can't, I won't!" Lamented Gwen.

"You do it! Do you understand? And at the first opportunity, I want you to leave Camelot, and run as far as you can. Look at me Gwen." Morgana gripped her friend's shoulders. Two huge, glistening, sorrow-filled brown eyes opened slowly to meet her own. "You have a life waiting for you to live it. Lancelot loves you, and is waiting for the chance to be by your side forever. You have talent, you could work in any town or city in the world with your sewing."

"Camelot is my home!" Stressed Gwen. "And I won't leave you behind! You're my friend Morgana, you always will be." Morgana pulled Gwen forward and embraced her tightly as she choked on her words.

"Everyone has a choice Gwen. And I want you to choose to live." Her voice broke, and her resolve finally crumbled as the two of them held each other and sobbed.

Arthur knelt by the body of Sir Pellinore. He was one of the first men he had trained when he became the First Knight of Camelot. Now he lay in the mud, cold and stiff, his face engraved with fear. He closed the knight's eyes and stood, surveying the gruesome scene.

"Camelot patrol." He breathed.

"There's not a single enemy body." Uttered Merlin behind him.

"He's right. This wasn't a fight, this was a slaughter." He affirmed, his jaw tight, every muscle in his body tensed in trepidation and anguish at the sight.

"Who could've done such a thing?" Arthur knew the answer, but admitting it tasted very much of failure.

"An army of men that cannot die." He muttered. Arthur thought about what might await him in his own home; His eyes wandered to his right to watch Merlin. Merlin's face showed nothing but bitter disappointment and grief at the sight. His eyes flicked up to meet Arthur's, and the same fear that he himself felt was now reflected back at him. Arthur swallowed the bile that threatened to rise up his throat. "Come on."

They continued through the rest of the afternoon at the fastest pace Arthur could push himself to. He grit his teeth the whole way, wishing he could go faster. As they came to the top of a hill, Arthur's face went slack with horror.

The usual pristine white façade of Camelot's Citadel was charred with smoke that choked its towers. The battle was long over, and Arthur froze in horror at the thought of his people dead and decaying after the annihilation. He shook the fear away, and stumbled down the hill, cursing himself for being so slow.

They walked through the valleys and down the paths towards the lower town. What was normally a quiet and peaceful walk home would now never be the same. The images of all those dead men, the burning, overturned wagons, the stench of death in the air would be branded into Arthur's memory forever now.

"They never stood a chance." He muttered.

The three men continued in silence. Night had fallen as they reached the lower town. Civilian corpses were strewn everywhere. Arthur thought he heard Merlin choke back a sob at the sight of a little girl with auburn curls, eyes wide with fear and yet blank in death. Arthur put a hand around his shoulders, and let him think it was to support him as he limped.

They reached Gwen's house, and Arthur veered towards it. It was unlikely that the army had managed to take the citadel in one morning assault, so for the moment Arthur would rest easier knowing his family was safe. But Guinevere was one of his oldest friends, and he'd be damned if he'd walk past her door and not be certain she was still alive. He pushed against the door, but it wouldn't give; he didn't currently have the strength required to break through the lock.

"Here, let me." Uttered Gwaine, gently pushing Arthur away from the door. In one swift movement, he kicked and the door swung aside. The three of them entered the house with trepidation. Silent as the grave, they crept around the table, none of them daring to even whisper Gwen's name.

A figure jumped up in front of them, battle roar on his lips and sword in hand. Both Arthur and Gwaine took defensive stances. As the man's sword rang against Arthur's the moonlight lit up a terrified face.

"Elyan!" Cried Arthur. Elyan froze, and after a moment's recognition he put his sword up.

Arthur turned to see Merlin, arm out ready to strike.

"Merlin, stop! This is Elyan, Gwen's brother." Merlin lowered his arm.

"I'm sorry." Elyan stammered.

"Don't worry about it." Muttered Merlin. "Pleasure to meet you, I wish we could do so under better circumstances.

"Where is everyone?" Interrupted Arthur. Merlin turned to shut the door. Elyan staggered, clearly suffering from sudden loss of adrenaline.

"I- I thought that..."

"Elyan, please, what happened?"

"They came out of nowhere, a mighty army. Weapons were useless against them. Th-they were men, Sire, but not men. Nothing could kill them. Nothing." Stuttered the man.

"Where's your sister?" Arthur panted. "Where's Guinevere?"

"She was in the citadel when they attacked."

"Then there's still hope." He sighed.

"Sire," Croaked Elyan. "the citadel's been taken." For a moment Arthur froze, held in check by his disbelief. Then he was bolting out of the door before he could think. His family was in danger, his friends were in danger. Who knew who was still alive and who had already perished at Cenred's hand?

"Let's go." He groaned, staggering towards the castle. The others caught up with him easily enough. Behind him, he heard Elyan mutter in Merlin's ear.

"How much longer can he keep going like this?"

"I don't know." Admitted Merlin. Neither did Arthur.

Arthur slumped against a stone arch, pale and sweating. Merlin's arm shot out to wrap around his bicep.

"Where now?" called Gwaine.

"Now, er... Now we, er..." Arthur stammered, looking around wildly.

"Arthur, you can't go on–" Urged Merlin.

"We must. We must find the others–"

"You can't go on without treatment–"

"...Guinevere and my father–"

"Elyan." He called, effectively cutting his Prince off.

"Yeah?"

"Do you know your way to the dungeons?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Go with Gwaine. See if you can find them." The two men scrambled down the corridor back the way they had come. Arthur pushed himself away from the wall and almost keeled over. Merlin held him up by the shoulders.

"I'm going with them." Muttered Arthur.

"No, you're not." He growled, wrapping Arthur's arm around his neck while clinging tightly to his waist.

"That's an order."

"No, to hell with your orders. You're coming with me." Thankfully, Arthur had enough sense to keep his mouth shut as they staggered towards the Physician's Chambers.

Merlin thrust Arthur down onto the wooden bench in Gaius' apartments. Arthur leaned up into his face as he whispered.

"You're disobeying orders, Merlin. I'll have you in the stocks for this."

"Fine, now stay put." He urged, darting over to one of Gaius' racks of salves and concoctions.

"And try not to move that leg." He added as an afterthought. He peered at the labels carefully. Something rattled in the cupboard. Merlin stopped dead for a moment, before rushing to pick up Arthur's sword. He approached the cupboard silently, and yanked the door open fast.

Rather than the dangerous immortal knight he expected to see, Merlin was grateful to find a startled old Physician hiding in his cupboard.

"Gaius!" He cried.

"Merlin!" Yelled Gaius, before embracing him firmly.

"Are you alright?" He asked, studying the man for any sign of injury.

"All the better for seeing you." He replied. A groan from Arthur made his head snap up.

"Arthur!" He gasped. He hurried over to study the Prince.

"I tried to heal him using magic, but it didn't work." Explained Merlin as Gaius inspected the wound.

"This may hurt a bit, Sire." He began inspecting the wound, and Arthur tensed up, crying out in pain. "The wound's infected." Explained Gaius after a moment. "I'll have to redress the leg to reduce the inflammation."

"No, no, no, no." Gasped Arthur, sitting up. "We haven't got time. Just give me something to keep going."

"Yes, Sire." Muttered Gaius, shooting a worried glance towards Merlin. Merlin followed him across the room.

"It's the army of immortals, isn't it?"

"We'll be lucky to get away with our lives, any of us." Affirmed Gaius.

"The effect will be instant, Sire, but I cannot guarantee how long it'll last." Gaius reassured him. Arthur downed the concoction in one, grimacing at the taste.

"Thank you, Gaius." He groaned. The door burst open as Gwaine and Elyan burst in.

"The King, Sire, he's alive."

"Where is he?"

"They're taking him to the throne room as we speak."

"This may be my last chance." He announced, reaching for his sword with renewed vigour. Already Gaius' miracle potion was working.

"Arthur, there's too many of them. You'll never make it." Insisted Merlin.

"I won't leave my father to die here alone." He turned away from Merlin's intoxicating eyes. "Gwaine, Elyan, take Gaius and make your way to the woods beyond the castle." The two men nodded worriedly. Arthur swallowed. "I hope we meet again." He said simply. Now wasn't the time for grand speeches, and it seemed the others knew that as they rushed off.

Arthur turned to meet Merlin's gaze again. His blue eyes seemed to glow ethereally in the moonlight, and if Arthur were a weaker man he'd take his friend in his arms and let the world burn around him. He was scared and hurting more than ever. The protective gleam in Merlin's eyes made him choose braver words.

"Merlin, you should go with them." Merlin gazed after their friends, and Arthur prepared to be left to fend for himself. Then Merlin's eyes twinkled.

"Nah, I've seen the woods already." The answer was so flippant, so Merlin, that Arthur grinned. Without thinking, he pulled Merlin flush against him, and pressed his lips to his. The kiss was awkward and desperate and not at all pretty, and Arthur didn't care because it was Merlin and his longing for him was almost as ridiculous as those damned ears of his. His arms wrapped around Merlin's waist and held him close. Arthur thought nothing in the world could be better than this.

And then Merlin wrapped his arms around Arthur's shoulders in return, and Arthur was proved wrong. Kisses with Merlin were infinitely better when the man himself reciprocated.

If it weren't for the very pressing matter of his entire family's imminent doom, Arthur might have stayed there forever; kissing this man again and again and again. Instead they broke apart. Merlin looked shell-shocked; Arthur grinned at the sight of Merlin, flushed and speechless.

"Let's talk about this later, yeah?" He said, before grabbing him by the upper arm and pelting out of the room together.

Merlin watched by Arthur's side, crouched upon the balcony, as the guards hauled a struggling Uther to kneel at Cenred's feet. Chained and on all fours by his side, and looking for all the world like she wished to have the man castrated, was Morgause. Even from a distance, Merlin could feel the power emanating from those chains. At least now he knew how Cenred had accomplished all that he had.

"Well, Uther, how the mighty have fallen." He taunted. Beside Merlin, Arthur made as if to rise to his feet in a grand gesture. Merlin pulled him back against him.

"The guards are immortal, they'll cut you to ribbons! What use are you dead?" He chided through gritted teeth. He held Arthur against him, his back flush against his chest to keep him from struggling further.

"I don't think you'll be needing this anymore." Elaborated Cenred below them, plucking the crown from Uther's head.

"This is unlawful. You cannot do this. You have no right to the throne!" Roared Uther.

Cenred cackled delightedly, and clapped his hands. The doors opened below them, and Morgana was thrust into the hall, kicking and scratching at her captors. She was dragged down the length of the throne room and hurled painfully to the floor beside her father. Uther made as if to reach out to her, but was pulled away to the side. Morgana now lay alone before Cenred's smug gaze. She looked up to glare balefully at him, and caught sight of Morgause.

"Sister!" She shrieked, and made to dive towards the haggard woman. The staff of a pike slammed down and caged her where she crouched.

"What have you done to her?" She screamed at him. Cenred chucked, as if her anguished cries were nothing more than a kitten's attempts to growl. He turned his head lazily to address Uther.

"You're absolutely right, Uther. No, I do not have the right to your throne." He pointed at Morgana in a heap at his feet. "But she does. She is your daughter, after all." Uther stared in shock at Cenred, before gazing at Morgana in fear. Merlin realised that it was her reaction to the news that terrified him most, the great secret he kept from her.

"Don't look so surprised." Insisted Cenred flippantly. "I've known for some time. So has she, for a matter of fact." He bent down suddenly, and viciously hoisted Morgana up by her arm. "And we all know the ending of the fairy tales; whoever marries a Princess, gets a lovely big crown with it."

A look of horror dawned on Arthur's face, as he realised what Cenred's end game was. The same look of shock and fear was reflected on Uther's face below them.

"And with her here, well, there's really no need for you, is there Uther?" He clicked his fingers and the Guard on Uther's right took a dagger from his belt. Merlin had just enough time to cover Arthur's mouth and hold him closer as the soldier thrust the knife cleanly and brutally through the King's neck.

Arthur went from frantically struggling to reach his father to stock still in an instant. Merlin held him tight, and as he felt two large hot tears run along the back of his knuckles he pressed a firm kiss to the back of Arthur's neck, offering whatever comfort he could silently provide.

"So, what do you say, Morgana dear?" Cenred was saying. "I'd ask for your father's permission, but it's a little late for that. Marry me, my love?" Morgana was staring down at Uther's body, now slumped forward on the ground, in surprise, as if she could quite process what had just happened. She turned to look back at Morgause, who was staring bitterly at the floor.

"What have you done to my sister?" She breathed.

"Oh, she'll be quite alright, my dear. If you cooperate." Suddenly Morgause looked up, and Merlin could see that formidable fire was still there in her eyes.

"Don't do it, Morgana, I am not worth that sacrifice."

"I can't lose you." Morgana pleaded from where she was trapped in Cenred's arms.

"Oh, he won't kill me, sister. Or what bargaining chip will he have over you then?" Hissed Morgause with a sneer. Cenred grimaced down at her.

"I may not kill your sister, Morgana, but I can make life hell for her." He growled. Suddenly the collar around the woman's neck and the manacles around her hands began to glow orange. Morgause shrieked in agony as the metal heated itself to an unbearable level.

Arthur's profile was a look of pure dread, as he saw exactly how Cenred would play his sister. Morgana was stubborn to a fault and forged with fire, but she cared just as fiercely as she fought, and she would only allow her sister to suffer for so long before she caved in to Cenred's demands to wed her.

It was only a matter of time.

By dawn they had reached the cave. Merlin removed Arthur's armour and Gaius had set about tending to Arthur's leg, while Gwaine and Elyan went about collecting firewood and hunting down something to eat. Finally, Gaius went to sit by the fire with Elyan and Gwaine spit roasting one small rabbit. Merlin and Arthur were left alone at the back of the cave, hidden from view by a curve in the rock.

"How are you feeling?" Merlin asked tentatively.

"My leg no longer hurts." Muttered Arthur.

"That's not what I meant."

"How do you think I'm feeling? My sister is in chains, being blackmailed into marrying a black hearted tyrant. My friends are held captive in my home, and my father..." His voice caught, and his words trailed away.

"I understand."

"How can you understand?" Hissed Arthur.

"More than you could possibly know." Replied Merlin abruptly, gazing down at those angry blue eyes. There was a moment's silence.

"The Dragonlord. He was–"

"My father. Yes." Arthur's anger drained away like water through soil.

"I'm sorry. Of course, you understand. They're your friends too, and you've lost far more by serving me than I have today."

"What do you mean?" Asked Merlin curiously. Arthur didn't answer for a while.

"Who was your first love?" He asked suddenly, staring resolutely ahead of him. Merlin reeled.

"How do you…"

"Around the time of Morgana's return to Camelot, Uther heard rumours of a witch in a cave on our Northern border. I think he assumed it was Morgause, and he wanted vengeance for Morgana's sake. When we got there, however, she wasn't a witch. She was an Oracle. She made me send the rest of the knights out of her cave and spoke only to me." He finally looked back up at Merlin.

"She spoke about you." He whispered. "She said you had lost everything to be my friend. Your childhood friend, your father, your first love. She called you a name, I'd never heard of it before."

"Emrys." Murmured Merlin.

"Yes." Confirmed Arthur. Merlin sighed. There was a long silence before he spoke again, and when he did, he wasn't talking about the Oracle."

"She was a druid girl, brought into Camelot by a bounty hunter. I rescued her from the cage she was in and hid her in the tunnels beneath Camelot." He swallowed. He had pushed thoughts of Freya away for so long, and yet it was still hard to talk about. "She had been cursed to turn into a murderous beast on the stroke of midnight each night against her will. It was always a matter of time before Camelot's knights hunted her down."

"I remember." Replied Arthur, sitting up in alarm. "The large cat-like creature with wings! I remember!"

"Her name was Freya." Merlin whimpered, the tears soaking his cheeks at the memory. Arthur stared at him. "When she turned back into a human, I carried her to a lake, surrounded by trees and wildflowers and mountains. She would have been happy there. She died in my arms." His voice broke, and suddenly Arthur's arms were surrounding him, his chin coming to rest on Merlin's head. The warmth from his skin seeped through his thin white shirt. He made no shushing sounds, but held him silently. Merlin stayed cradled there for what seemed like eternity.

"I am so sorry Merlin." Arthur murmured, his voice rumbling in his chest. Merlin could feel it as he pressed his cheek against it.

"Not your fault. Not her fault. Not anyone's fault but mine. I should have got her out of Camelot sooner." Croaked Merlin. "We planned to run away together." Merlin felt Arthur tense beside him, and he pulled away to look down at him.

"You were going to leave Camelot with her?" He asked blankly, but Merlin saw his eyes filled with trepidation.

"I was going to take her somewhere safe. At the time, I was so tired of hiding, and she was in the same desperate situation as I was. We were drawn to each other, and it was all so fast it made me giddy." He gave a cynical half laugh. "And I must be the cruellest man on the planet, because while I still grieve for her, I can't bring myself to regret not going." He lamented, as Arthur pulled him back against his chest again. "I belong in Camelot. With you."

"You are not cruel for having a change of heart." Crooned Arthur into his dark, unkempt hair. He dropped a soft kiss along his hairline. "You are not cruel for moving on and finding a new life without someone you lost." Merlin nuzzled unabashedly against his chest, his hand curling against the collar of Arthur's shirt. They sat in silence as Merlin calmed down.

"There was a question I had that the Oracle never answered." Murmured Arthur quietly. "She said I should hear the answer from you. And then I did try to ask you, and you never finished the sentence. Gwaine's fault, of course."

"Always Gwaine's fault." Mumbled Merlin.

"Indeed." Breathed Arthur, pressing his lips to Merlin's temple once again. "But I have to ask it again. Why have you spent your life here serving me, saving me, running and hiding for me? You could have left me at any moment, and you never did. Why don't you regret leaving my side when you had the chance?"

"Arthur." Merlin protested.

"No, Merlin. No more hiding. Please. I need to know." Merlin pulled away as much as Arthur would let him, and he gazed up into those big blue eyes.

"Arthur, how can you not already know the answer?" He whispered.

"I need to be sure." He insisted.

"I do it because I couldn't be more in love with you if I tried. Even if you are a complete prat." And Merlin felt his face – finally – break into a smile that had been missing from his features for over two years. Arthur stared down at him in something akin to wonder and his features broke into a smile of his own. He bent his head and crushed his lips to Merlin's.

This kiss was different to any other kiss they had shared. It had the desperation and urgency of their first kiss, but there was something more. It wasn't just the quick press of bodies and lips because if it didn't happen now they may be ripped to shreds by immortal soldiers and then it would never happen. Merlin hadn't been thinking that first time, he'd merely reacted to the warmth of Arthur's mouth against his own. He'd been likely to die any second, likely to never have the chance to feel this ever again.

Now, their lips were still smouldering with the flavour of that long-awaited confession. There was passion that had been missing the first time, because now they were able to linger and savour the taste of each other. Merlin pulled away to gasp for breath, and Arthur wasted no time in continuing his kisses along Merlin's jaw to suckle at his pulse point.

"Arthur." Moaned Merlin. In some faraway part of his mind, he vaguely registered their friends go silent around the corner.

"And I believe that is our cue to go and take up the watch. I claim whichever spot is furthest away from them." Said Gwaine. There was a flurry of movement that Merlin could quite focus on, as Arthur was busy whispering in his other ear.

"You have no idea how long I have wanted you, Merlin." He growled, and the noise went straight to Merlin's cock. "Whenever we were out on a quest, and it was just the two of us sleeping by the fire in the woods. You were always just in arm's reach, and all I could think about was rolling you on your back and having you there and then."

"Fuck!" Merlin whimpered. Even in the middle of leaving bruises on Merlin's collar bone, Arthur laughed.

"Never heard you swear before Merlin." He groaned.

"Shut up and get on with it." Groaned Merlin, tugging at Arthur's shirt wherever he could reach. Arthur laughed again, but took the hint and threw his shirt into the recesses of the cave. Merlin moaned at the expanse of skin now bare before him, and now at long last he was able to touch! Properly touch, and kiss, and pinch, and now he could confirm that yes Arthur was sensitive around his nipples, as he had long suspected.

"I'm going to have you now, Merlin. Want to make you scream my damn name." Moaned Arthur, as he pulled Merlin up to sit, whipped his shirt above his head, and pushed him firmly back down again. Merlin's hands found their way down Arthur's perfectly sculpted stomach to the waistband of his trousers. He yanked at the fabric desperately, but the angle was all wrong and he couldn't quite get them off. Arthur raised himself up, put his hands over Merlin's, and pulled firmly.

His cock sprang free; it didn't matter how many times he'd seen it when dressing or undressing or bathing Arthur before, this was different, and Merlin almost came undone at the sight of it. And then Arthur was pressed back against him, his lips hot against his own, and the feeling of hot, hard flesh grinding against the inside of his thigh was too much. Somehow Merlin managed to get his own trousers down, and there was a blinding moment where soft flesh rubbed against his cock; the shock of it made Merlin feel light headed.

He felt Arthur's hips stutter in their movement, and he fumbled for both their cocks, his hand not quite fitting around them both. His thumb ran along the tip of Arthur's cock, smearing the pre-cum from both their members over the pair of them as they thrust together against each other into the calloused circle of Merlin's hand. The tantalising sensation of Arthur's length jerking against his own set Merlin's skin aflame, and it wasn't long before he mewled, a soft keening noise, as he shattered beneath Arthur. Arthur's orgasm followed his own almost instantly, and Merlin hand squeezed them both until they lay there, Arthur slumped over Merlin, panting and completely spent.

"I have a question for you too, Arthur." Whispered Merlin, once he had some semblance of control over his own breathing.

"Anything you want Merlin." Groaned the blond into the shell of his ear.

"Do you want to explain to me what the hell we're going to use to clean all of this up?" Merlin asked cheekily. Arthur's laugh shuddered through the rest of his body, and jolted Merlin's too sensitive skin deliciously.

Morgana sat on a small cushioned stool that was placed for her beside the throne. She wore no manacles, and yet she was very aware that she remained a prisoner still. One wrong move, one sarcastically arched brow, and Cenred had made it perfectly clear that Morgause would be the one to suffer for it. Cenred lounged in the throne next to her, smirking as Sir Leon was made to kneel before him.

"Tell me, Sir Leon, how have you enjoyed the first week of my reign?" Sir Leon did not answer. "Speak up. Are you and your fellow knights ready to honour and serve me?"

"I would rather die." Sneered the knight.

"That can be arranged."

"My loyalty is to King Arthur. And should he die, I will fight to protect the Lady Morgana till my dying breath. There is nothing you can do to change that." Announced the knight. He glanced over to Morgana and sent her a small smile. Morgana wished she could take courage from the reassurance Leon wanted her to feel, but there was only dread in her heart, and a fear for Sir Leon's safety.

"We shall see." Drawled Cenred, as the Knight was hauled away.

"I'm beginning to see the challenges that I face. Being Camelot's King is not so simple, Guinevere." Stated the king.

He was languishing upon a thick blanket in the middle of a meadow of wildflowers, trying to play with one of Morgana's errant curls as she sat stiffly beside him. His head was resting heavily in Gwen's lap as she hand-fed him his meal piece by piece. Gwen never though Morgana's impassioned words the night before the slaughter about hand feeding the man would have turned out to be so literal. Even under the pretences of trying to woo Morgana, he was taking the opportunity to gaze lewdly up at Gwen, undressing her with his gaze and suckling on her fingers every time she fed him another morsel. She swallowed back the bile that threatened to force its way up her throat and smiled as sweetly as she could.

"You're doing well, your Majesty."

"You think? The knights do not share your view." Replied Cenred in a dismissive tone.

"They don't know you." Cooed Gwen.

"I need their allegiance. Without that, the people will not yield to me." Stated Cenred. Gwen thought it was stupid of him to confide in a serving girl like this, but Cenred didn't seem like the type of man who worried about being clever or careful about his plans. And then an idea decided to tumble through her mind, tripping over its own feet and not being particularly quiet about any of it. At some point, it decided to finally sit down and do some work, sketching out a half-baked plan at best. But it was something she could work with. Determined not look at Morgana as she spoke, for fear of giving herself away, she broached the subject.

"My mother was a maid in Sir Leon's household. We grew up together. I could talk to him, try to make him see sense?" Cenred's gaze turned from lazily provocative to sharp and intent, calculating in a way that made Gwen worried that there really was a brain somewhere behind those vicious brown eyes.

"You would do that for me?" He asked curiously.

"Uther killed my father." Gwen stated coldly, and it wasn't difficult to harden her tone with ice.

"Indeed? No doubt you relish the change in leadership more than most then."

"Let me meet with Sir Leon." She said simply, thinking that any more would give her away.

"I will arrange it." He announced, waving a hand magnanimously in her vague direction.

"Thank you, your Majesty." Said Gwen, desperately hiding how pleased she was. She glanced up to see Morgana staring at her, worry clear in her pale eyes.

"We need to act before Cenred's grip on Camelot gets any stronger." Whispered Merlin.

"Have you sent word to Lancelot yet? Asked Gaius.

"I sent a letter to Haldor days ago. He's probably moved on."

"Give it time." Insisted the physician calmly.

"We don't have time. We need to act now." Merlin insisted.

"I know, Merlin, but how?" Merlin thought for a moment.

"There was an immortal army before. How was it defeated?" He asked.

"The Cup of Life had to be emptied of the blood it contained. Once that had happened, the enchantment no longer held." Merlin listened to the explanation with a sinking feeling in his stomach. A task that sounded so simple, but would undoubtedly be almost impossible.

"Then that's what I have to do." He replied, his voice hard and determined, even to his own ears.

"They're immortal, Merlin. You don't know the power to defeat a soldier, never mind an army." Gaius insisted. Merlin did not answer. He had no answer. And he was going to need an answer to give to Arthur when he tried to explain to him why it must be Merlin himself who would undertake this mildly suicidal mission.

"Guinevere." Leon stood up with a start as she entered his cell.

"It's all I could get." She murmured, holding up the meagre plate of food.

"I don't understand. What are you doing here?" He asked, bewildered.

"Cenred sent me...to talk to you, to make you see sense." At once, the Knight reeled. "Listen to me."

"I'd rather starve. Guard!"

"I'm going to help you escape." She hissed at him. Leon stared down at her in shock. Gwen turned to the approaching Guard. "It's alright. Get me some water." The guard did not move, but stayed watching her intently. Gwen tilted her chin haughtily. "The King has instructed me to get the prisoner food and water." She snapped loudly. At the mention of Cenred, the knight turned quickly and strode away.

"You know what will happen to you if you're caught." He murmured.

"We have to find Arthur." She insisted, avoiding the images of her own horrific execution that flew through her mind.

"I've a good idea where he'll be hiding." He replied earnestly.

"Then I need to get you out of here."

"How? It's impossible, surely?"

"I'm a trusted member of the court." She whispered. "Cenred has the keys to the cells in his chambers."

"No, Gwen." Leon insisted, but she cut him off before he could argue.

"No one will suspect me." She said assertively, biting back any trace of fear. One thing the Pendragons had taught her; to be confident in a plan was halfway to success.

"Merlin, what are you doing?" asked Gaius, watching Merlin rummaging through his bag.

"Looking for something." The boy muttered in reply. Gaius sighed. What a detailed answer.

"What?" Merlin finally stood up, triumphant, holding up a small glass hourglass. As Gaius peered closer, he saw it was filled with water.

"This." Merlin explained. "When I met the Fisher King, he gave me this. He told me, in Camelot's darkest hour, when all seems lost, it would show me the way."

"Yes. But how?" he asked.

"That's what I've got to find out." Answered Merlin.

"Sorry. Nature calls." Called Gwaine, not realising even as he stepped out of the cave what irreparable damage he had caused.

"Oh, no!" Hissed Merlin under his breath, as the hourglass vial shattered, and the precious water tricked away into a hollow groove in the rock. Even as he watched, desperately grasping for a way to fix it, the water began to shine. An image rippled to the surface, and Merlin's breath stopped in his lungs as a face he had almost forgotten the details of peered out of the tiny puddle at him.

"Freya?" He asked, amazed.

"I've missed you." She murmured back at him.

"You're..." Merlin stuttered, looking for words to give this girl, a woman he once thought would become his whole world. Even as he knew he had moved on, and couldn't ever imagine life without Arthur in it, there was a tiny part of his heart that would always keep Freya's memory safe.

"Merlin, we don't have long." She insisted.

"Is it really you?" He whispered in awe.

"I swore that one day I would repay you. Now is the moment." She said, her voice strong and clear and filled with righteous passion. In life, as he knew her, she had been small and frightened. Somehow in death she had grown stronger, more firm.

"I don't understand."

"There is but one weapon that slay something which is already dead." Freya explained. A spark exploded inside Merlin's mind.

"A blade forged in the dragon's breath." He answered, breathless with the realisation.

"That weapon lies at the bottom of the Lake of Avalon. Where you hid it." Said Freya.

"But Cenred's army are not dead, they're very much alive." Answered Merlin.

"Anyone who toys with the cup pays a terrible price." She insisted. "The moment they entered their pact with Cenred, they became the living dead. You must come to the lake."

"And you will give me the sword?" Asked Merlin.

"In your hands, it has the power to save Albion." Said Freya, with such grave magnitude, that Merlin was at a loss.

"Thank you." He choked out.

"No." She replied, a sweet smile gracing her features. Glowing as she did, in her little magical pool of water, she truly looked angelic. "It's giving me the chance to see you again."

A noise from behind him pulled his gaze away, and he shifted quickly to cover the glowing pool from Gwaine as he stumbled back into the cave.

"That's better." Announced the ruffian. He glanced at Merlin, and frowned. "You alright? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I'm fine. Really." Insisted Merlin, with a shaky smile. He turned away quickly.

"Freya?" He whispered. But the puddle was once again a simple puddle.

As Leon stepped quietly through the door of the cottage, he saw Gwen start for a moment in panic, then school her features as she saw who had entered her home.

"We haven't got time to waste." She announced hurriedly. She handed him a bundle of fabric, and as he took it from her, it unfurled into a long flowing ladies gown. Leon stared at it in trepidation.

"You...You can't be serious." He stammered. He was almost willing to engage in battle with immortal soldiers over this embarrasment.

"Just hurry!" Snapped Gwen. "Every guard in Camelot will be looking for you. They won't be looking for two women courtiers." With great dismay, but much speed thanks to Guinevere ushering him along, he dressed himself in women's garb; with a cloak wrapped carefully around him, and his armour swiftly stashed in a bag with Gwen's tunic and trousers, they stowed away through the night.

The pair hurried, careful to lose anyone attempting to track them. By daybreak, Leon had had enough.

"These skirts are ridiculous! We've been stumbling around the woods, tripping over our hems all night."

"Speak for yourself." Snorted Gwen. Leon glared.

"You've had practice. We're stopping here, and changing. I want my armour back." Gwen won the fight to change first, so Leon stood guard as she slipped behind a tree trunk. She stepped out two minutes later transformed. Leon himself was not so swift.

"What's taking you so long?" Huffed Gwen.

"I'm a woman." Growled Leon indignantly. Gwen sighed.

"Here, let me help you." She tugged at the reams of velvet clinging to his shoulders, and finally he was freed.

"From here, we need to take the path heading north. There's a cave in the Darkling Woods, five minutes due east of the fallen oak. It has a concealed entrance and fresh water. My guess is that's where Arthur's hiding out." Announced Leon.

Gwen ran with the others, pelting hell for leather for a chance to outrun the knights who could not die. Just as she thought they would make it, she spotted a group of them up ahead. Her stomach reeled in fear; they would never be able to defeat them. Suddenly a cry came from above.

"Look out!" A boulder fell from the ledge high above her head, followed by another, then another, and then a whole slew of great heavy rocks descended from the ridge, blocking the enemy from advancing on them.

"Who's that?" Arthur asked incredulously.

"Don't know," replied Gwaine, delighted and smug all at the same time. "but I'm liking him already." As the boulders stopped their avalanche, Gwen saw movement out of the corner of her eye. She looked up to see two men step out from behind a tree.

"Lancelot!" She gasped. Lancelot smiled down at her, relief and joy and a host of other emotions brimming in his shining brown eyes.

"We need to hurry." He called. They all scrambled out of the valley, Merlin catching up to them in the last moment. Arthur gripped his shoulders without a word, and steered him back in the right direction. Gwen hurtled past the others as their rescuers came into view, and rushed into Lancelot's waiting arms, crushing her lips to his. He returned her kiss with equal desperation, heedless of who might be watching.

"I've never been more glad to see you." She whispered, as they both pulled away just far enough to gasp for air.

"I'm just glad I reached you in time." He returned. Gwen heard footfalls behind her, and tried to step away as Arthur came up to them. Lancelot kept a hand on her lower arm, and Gwen realised from the look in his eyes that the panic of seeing her against the soldiers had not yet died down. She stayed.

"I take it that rock fall wasn't an accident." Arthur declared. Lancelot smiled up at Percival, a gentle giant of a man Gwen had met once before. He seemed nice.

"This is Percival." Lancelot announced, clapping him on the shoulder blade. "It was his strength that brought them down."

"Your Highness." Said Percival, in a grave, quiet voice. Arthur shook his head, waving away the formality.

"Arthur." The prince insisted. Percival's face broke out into a dazzlingly giddy smile.

"Arthur it is."

"What were you doing here?"

"Ah." Merlin jumped up behind Arthur, and came forward. "It was me. I sent for them."

"Well, we owe you our lives." Arthur announced. "Thank you."

"He was lucky to escape, sire." Said the soldier, as he finished his report to Cenred. Morgana looked down, fighting to keep her stoic mask in place.

"What can he do?" Crowed Cenred. "Arthur has but a handful of men. I have an immortal army at my disposal, and two witches in chains." Morgana turned to him, one delicate eyebrow arched in defiance.

"Yes, but whist Arthur lives, the people will not yield." She hissed. Cenred scowled at her, and pulled on the end of Morgause's chains. Morgana shivered, and bit down on her lip as her sister screamed in agony. He approached her slowly, and took hold of her own chain, attached to the manacles around her wrists. Morgana tried to brace herself, but nothing could prepare her for the burning pain that coursed through her arms and shoulders. She felt, rather than heard herself scream.

Finally, Cenred dropped the chains carelessly into her lap, and Morgana breathed shallow breaths as the pain subsided.

"Then we will make them." The false king announced. "Tonight, we will have a gallows built, and tomorrow, one by one, we will put an end to the knights of Camelot."

"Are you sure we'll be safe in here?" Asked Gaius, trepidation clear in his voice.

"This castle belonged to the ancient kings." Arthur explained, holding his own burning torch aloft. "It'll do for a while."

"Can't be worse than that cave." Muttered Elyan, looking around gloomily.

"Search the place, see what you can find." Called Arthur. They spread out across the dark hall; Guinevere lighting old candles and salvaging ancient torches, Merlin went about building up a roaring fire, and Arthur smiled faintly in answer to the shining glow in his eyes. The rest of them split up, scavenging the abandoned castle for supplies.

"They must've been left by bandits." Said Gwaine, as he dropped a heap of assorted weaponry on a table.

Arthur saw Percival hand a tankard to Gaius, who had sat himself down in a carved wooden chair, clearly exhausted by their surroundings. Before the old physician was a large round object, covered by a dusty, dark cloth. Arthur pulled the cloth away, threw it to one side, and found himself looking at a large wooden table, surrounded by nine chairs. It was heavy, and old looking, carved with symbols, and names of long dead knights of Camelot. Arthur knew, just by looking at it, what it was, and what it stood for.

"Here!" He called out. "Come and join me." His friends put down the objects they were looking at, and sat down at the table with their tankards. Arthur handed Guinevere into her seat, and she smiled at him, not a little confused. Arthur hadn't found the time to tell her yet, but he planned to make her a noble lady when he sat upon Camelot's throne. She may as well get used to the treatment.

Arthur stood before the largest seat, and addressed them.

"This table belonged to the ancient kings of Camelot." He explained with a smile. This was a part of his history that he had always liked. "A round table afforded no one man more importance than any other. They believed in equality in all things. So, it seems fitting that we revive this tradition now. Without each of you, we would not be here." Arthur looked at each of his friends with pride in his voice. His gaze lingered on Merlin.

Without you especially, Merlin. I would have been dead a thousand times over.

He did not say it aloud. Now was not the time.

"My sister has languished in Cenred's filthy clutches for too long. Tomorrow, I make my bid to rescue her." He announced. None seemed surprised. He swallowed; what he planned to ask was not a choice many would agree to, but he had faith in his friends. "

Are there any around this table who will join me?" He couldn't meet anyone's eyes. Not until Lancelot stood

"You taught me the values of being a knight, the code by which a man should live his life." Said the man gravely. "To fight with honour for justice, freedom," his gaze moved to meet Guinevere's, "and all that's good." The pair held each other's gaze for a moment, before Lancelot's eyes flicked back to Arthur's. "I believe in the world that you will build." He finished simply.

"Even though I was a commoner, a nobody, you were willing to lay down your life for me, Arthur." Stated Elyan, rising to his feet. "It is now my turn to repay you."

"I have fought alongside you many times." Said Leon, his voice deep and gravelly. "There is no man that I would rather die for."

"I think we've no chance." Interjected Gwaine. The group looked at him, as he sat there frowning. And then the rogue smirked. "But I wouldn't miss it for the world." He finished, joining the rest of them on their feet.

Percival rose, like a great beast uncurling from it's nap. He smiled at Arthur.

"Your enemies are my enemies." He stated.

Gaius pulled himself up from his seat, and raised his eyebrows at Arthur, in that way he had always done when Arthur had avoided taking medicine as a small boy.

"If you need an old man." He announced.

"You know the answer." Said Gwen, quietly getting to her feet. Arthur gazed at the group before him. One answer had not come yet.

"Merlin?" He questioned, not daring to look to his right. There was a pause.

"No, don't really fancy it." Came the sardonic reply, and Arthur almost ruined everything by snorting.

"You don't have a choice, Merlin." He said.

"Okay." He tutted, standing up. Their eyes met for a moment, and Merlin grinned, before nodding firmly.

You pillock, like I was ever going to say no.

Arthur dragged his eyes away from his lover's, and gazed at his compatriots with misty eyes. Somehow, his voice stayed steady.

"I want to thank you all for staying loyal to me in Camelot's hour of need. I'll do something that my father wouldn't have approved of."

"You're a knight. At last." Whispered Merlin. Lancelot had seen him during the knighting ceremony, as unceremonious as it was, smiling fit to bursting with pride at his friends. He had also watched him as they ate, and set up their bedrolls for the night; how he had grinned and laughed with them as ever before. And something was very, very wrong.

"What are you planning?" Lancelot murmured. "And don't even think about lying; I know you too well."

"It's too difficult to explain."

"You can tell me." Merlin glanced away, and Lancelot was sure he was looking at Arthur. He inched closer to Lancelot.

"Cenred has the Cup of Life." Merlin murmured. "If I can find it and empty it of the blood within, then the army will be destroyed, and Cenred will be powerless."

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Lancelot asked. "It's guarded. By an immortal army."

"Aren't you forgetting something? I have magic." Answered Merlin, a soft smile gracing his features. Lancelot shook his head.

"It doesn't make you immortal." He insisted. Merlin looked away, and in that moment he looked almost childlike.

"No."

"You know, Merlin, you're the one Arthur should knight. You're the bravest of us all, and it took him so long to realise. He's not going to like this."

"He's not going to know about it. Not yet." Merlin insisted. "He'll do anything to stop me, to protect me, even at his own expense. That's why I need to find a way to get to the Cup without Arthur knowing."

"Leave that to me." Whispered Lancelot, before turning away to sleep.

"You need to be careful." Muttered Gaius, as the soldiers prepared to leave the next morning. Merlin smiled; an imitation of that cheerful, easy smile that Gaius had missed these past few years. But it was taut around the edges. Anyone who knew Merlin well enough knew it was a sure sign he was hiding something.

"I've got the easy bit. The warning bell is nothing compared to the cells." He said carelessly.

"I overheard you, Merlin." Gaius replied. "If Cenred catches you, he'll have you killed." Merlin's smile faded.

"I have no choice." Merlin insisted, and Gaius sighed, knowing he was right and wishing with all his heart that there was something he could do to change it.

"I remember the bumbling idiot that came charging into my chamber all those years ago." He said instead, with a wry smile. "Who would believe." Merlin smiled, and this time it was real. Gaius felt his eyes watering, and he pulled the young boy into a hug.

Arthur waited until his men were not paying attention, before tugging on Merlin's arm, and pulling him to one side.

"Wha–" began Merlin, but it is often difficult to finish a sentence when another person's lips are pressed firmly against your own. Arthur kissed in many ways. Today he kissed like he fought, giving no quarter, and brooking no resistance. Merlin couldn't help but open up against the onslaught of sheer, unbridled passion. One kiss turned into a second, and then a third, and then –

"They'll see." Cautioned Merlin, pulling back for air.

"I don't care." Growled Arthur, but his next kiss was gentler, more careful, less urgent.

"Stay safe for me." He whispered "I want you to know ...if I never see you again..." His words caught in his throat, jumbled up in the tension and fear of losing this man, his lover.

"You will." Insisted Merlin. His eyes were suddenly hard and intense, focussed solely on Arthur. He brewed with passion and pride. "You will see me. I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you. I watched you last night. You gave us hope, something to believe in. I saw the king you will become. Some men are born to plow fields, some live to be great physicians, others to be great kings. Me, I was born to serve you, Arthur. And I'm proud of that. And I wouldn't change a thing."

"You were born to do far more than 'serve me', Merlin." Said Arthur. "You are…" Arthur searched desperately for the words to describe him. He came up short. "You are everything." He said simply. "I wouldn't be here without you. Even ignoring how many times you've saved my life, if you weren't here, I'd have given up in that cave. You are my reason to fight today." Merlin breathed an inaudible laugh.

"I don't believe that for a second. Not while Camelot still stands."

"You made me believe she was still standing." Merlin smiled softly at him, and gave him one last, light kiss.

"Ready?" He asked. Arthur nodded.

Merlin and Lancelot locked the council chamber doors behind them, and turned to see the golden cup on it's pedestal, surrounded by six guards. Before them, lounging on the King's chair, was Cenred. In his left hand, he held a length of chain attached to the collar around Morgause's neck. In his right, he held another, attached to the manacles locked around Morgana's dainty wrists. Red marks showed that these bindings were of the same inhuman breed as those around her sister's neck.

"So, you're here to bring down my army?" He called. "Well, you can certainly try."

In unison, the soldiers unsheathed their weapons. Cenred dragged Morgana out of the line of fire, and Merlin and Lancelot prepared to fight.

Arthur fought alongside his knights in the dungeons of his home, against foes he could not defeat, nor tire. But he himself did not have that power. Already there had been too many near misses against his enemy's sword, and he could feel his strength waning.

Suddenly a terrible clanging noise rang across the citadel. Arthur's heart was suddenly encased in icy fear. If the warning bell was ringing, that meant that Merlin and Lancelot had not succeeded.

Why had the bell rung? What had happened to Merlin? What if he was injured? What if he was lying on the battlements right now, bleeding out. What if it was worse? What if Arthur had lost him forever?

He wouldn't ever know, not until this battle was won. With renewed vigour, Arthur roared, and swung his sword again.

"I have a feeling I won't be seeing you again." Sneered Cenred standing above Merlin's pain-ridden form. He raised his sword. Lancelot tried desperately to rise to his feet, to save his friend, even knowing that he would never be in time.

"No, you won't." Cried a voice from the far door. Lancelot looked up just in time to see Gaius' eyes glow orange, and Cenred was pushed back. Gaius rushed to Morgana's side, taking a small hammer from his belt and aiming for the chains on her wrists.

"Merlin! The Cup!" Gaius cried. Merlin pulled himself to his feet, grabbed Excalibur, and swung the blade at the Cup. The blood sprayed across the stones.

Down in the dungeons, Arthur staggered back as his foes exploded violently.

Cenred groaned, holding his shoulder that was most likely dislocated after he hit the wall. He looked up to a terrifying sight.

Morgana and Morgause stood above him, freed of their chains, a gazing down at him with blazing fury in their eyes. If he wasn't the one in danger, Cenred could have appreciated how they appeared as beautiful, avenging harpies above their prey.

"You have a lot to answer for." Said Morgana.

"My ladies," said Merlin from the side, politely, but oh so warily. "Arthur will want to give him a fair trial."

"And he shall have it, Merlin." Cooed Morgause. "And who better to judge him, than the two who were most ill-used?"

Cenred's strength failed him as terror engulfed him entirely. He did not even register that he had lost control of his bladder.

Arthur was run ragged for the first few days back in Camelot, coping with his father's funeral arrangements, preparing for his coronation, making the titles and honours he bequeathed to his friends official. He had hardly seen Merlin in the days since they returned home.

He had glimpsed him; the morning of Uther's funeral. He had been stood with his father's body, set out in state, all night in the throne room. Once he had mourned in private, he steadied himself, and walked out of the door without a backward glance. Merlin had been sat on the floor outside, and as Arthur called his name, he turned his head to him.

"It's a new day. Have you been here all night?"

"I didn't want you to feel you were alone."

He saw him again in the crowd as Uther's funeral pyre was lit, stoic and unsmiling in the crowd, and he had found it odd that the man had not stood close by him. After these weeks constantly by his side, Arthur felt bereft whenever he turned around, and his lover was not there.

The night before his coronation, Arthur lay restless in his all-too-empty bed. It was a moonless night, the fire was the only light in the room, and even that was down to it's smouldering embers. He heard the door to his chambers quietly open. Arthur reached for the dagger by his pillow, but paused as moments later came a rustle of fabric, the clink of belts and buckles, as if someone were undressing.

Arthur waited silently, and was rewarded with the sight of Merlin, weary eyed and hair mussed, pulling back the covers and slipping in beside Arthur. His head curled upon his shoulder, and one lean arm slipped around his waist.

"Sorry." Came the tiny whisper. "Didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't. I wasn't sleeping." Merlin's head lifted slightly.

"That doesn't bode well." Arthur sighed, and felt a heavy ball of tension that he hadn't known was there seep out of him.

"I've just been worrying, I guess." He nudged Merlin with his shoulder good naturedly. "Worrying where you'd got to, really."

"Why?" Came the innocent question.

"You've kept your distance since we returned. I had wondered if you'd had second thoughts."

"About?"

"Us." Said Arthur, and hoped it didn't sound as forlorn to Merlin as it had to his own ears. There was a long silence, stretching out into every corner of Arthur's chambers, and pressing on his head and heart like a great weight.

Merlin curled closer to Arthur, winding his legs between his own. He rose up on one elbow, leaned down, and kissed him slowly but firmly.

"Never have I doubted whether I wish to be by your side."

"Then where have you been?" Asked Arthur, trying desperately to not sound like a petulant child. "Why is tonight the first time you've come to my bed."

"It has been a lot to process." Said Merlin, eventually. "Being back in Camelot, and being visible. I didn't realise that, even though I've been living here for over a year, I hadn't truly come home. Camelot is the same as it always was, and yet completely different." Merlin sighed. "It's been strange. And the people! Some have welcomed me, missed me. Others don't know what to think. A few have tried to have me arrested for sorcery." He gave a soft laugh. "Just a reminder, legalising magic should definitely be the first thing on your list after your coronation. It's become a bit of a nuisance."

"Duly noted." Replied Arthur with a smile. Merlin lowered his eyes, and Arthur noticed. "There's something else isn't there." Merlin sighed.

"Camelot is safe again in your hands. In two days' time, the crown will be placed on your head, and it will solidify your place on her throne, and at the head of her armies." He swallowed. "But your position is only as strong as your lineage. You'll need an heir, Arthur. And you'll need allies. The solution to both is marriage to a noble lady. And as much as I love you, and I know you love me, neither of us can stand in the way of Camelot's future for the sake of our own feelings." Merlin's eyes glistened with unshed tears as they finally met Arthur's.

"I adore you Arthur, but we can't be like this forever. Not when there is so much at stake." Arthur nodded gravely, desperately trying to conceal his grin.

"Merlin, you are wise indeed. I don't know what took me so long to see it." He said softly. "A good King must meet the needs of his position regardless of his own feelings on the subject. To keep my line grounded in Camelot's soil, I must produce an heir to follow me when I fall. But you are forgetting something vastly important." Arthur looked down at Merlin, nestled on his shoulder, and smiled. "I already have an heir."

"What?" Asked Merlin, uncomprehending. Arthur laughed.

"Morgana." He said, by way of explanation. "I'm going to legitimise her, just as soon as I've legitimised magic, and brought back the role of Court Sorcerer. Morgana is as proud and as stubborn as my father, but with far more compassion for her people in her heart. I couldn't think of anyone better to protect my people when I'm gone." Merlin gaped up at him, utterly bewildered. Arthur laughed aloud at the shock etched into his expression, and kissed him soundly.

"Is this really what you've been so worried about since we returned?" Asked Arthur against his lover's mouth. The corners of Merlin's lips quirked up into a bemused smile.

"It sounds so ridiculous no you've explained it. This is what I've been worried about for over a year." Arthur drew back sharply.

"Do you mean to tell me," He growled, moving to lie above Merlin's lithe form, "that I could have had this;" He kissed Merlin, long and hard, "this," He knelt up, and hauled Merlin's hips up to meet his own. Merlin squeaked in shock, "and this," his hand stroked the inside of Merlin's – bare, he now realised – thigh until he could reach up and wrap a palm around his half-hard cock, "far sooner, if you hadn't been such a dollophead and worked out that the line of succession didn't always have to be so annoyingly linear." Merlin gave a startled laugh, that shuddered into a moan as Arthur began to play with his balls.

"Oh Gods, Arthur!" He gasped. Arthur smirked, and ground his own swiftly growing erection against Merlin's arse. Even through his sleeping trousers, the friction was delicious.

"I think you should apologise."

"What?" Merlin spluttered, equal parts aroused, and indignant. The flush in his cheeks was endearing.

"You have denied your King that which he desires for over a year with your idiocy. A grovelling apology is really a merciful sentence." Snickered Arthur. Merlin growled.

"You want me to grovel?" Arthur squeezed a cock that was definitely not half-hard anymore, and leant down to nip at his pulse point. Merlin groaned.

"Would you prefer I make you beg?" Arthur muttered in his ear, low and sinfully dark. Merlin almost whined. Arthur chuckled, and continued. "I can, you know. I could take your cock in my mouth, suck and lick until the only thing you can remember is my name. I can bring you to the precipice, and have you almost over the edge, before pulling you back again. And I can do it over and over; make you almost cum, before dragging you away from your impending release, until all you can do is sob and writhe in desperation. I can do all that without even needing to fuck you properly."

"Ohh, fuck." Whimpered Merlin.

"I think I'd like to see you beg anyway, just for the sheer fun of it all." Said Arthur, as he moved down Merlin's body, pushing the hem of his shirt up, and leaving wet, open mouthed kisses across his stomach. "Beg and plead for my cock, my hands, my mouth, anything you can get of me." His mouth found Merlin's cock, and without warning he swallowed it all down. Merlin's hips bucked at the heated, wet contact. Arthur pulled away as quickly as he had begun.

"Arthur, please!"

"You've already started, and I've barely touched you. You're so sensitive." Crowed Arthur delightedly, blowing cool air on the tip of his cock. It twitched in response, and Merlin's whole body jerked. "I could keep you like this for hours on end, just teasing you."

"Don't you dare." Growled Merlin fiercely.

"Or what?" Arthur asked smugly.

"Or I won't tell you where the bottle of oil I nicked from Gaius is." Came the hissed response. Arthur's brain stopped completely for a heartbeat, before he pulled Merlin up, and forcefully removed the soft shirt he had worn to bed. With nothing underneath. And a bottle of oil somewhere that he had brought.

"You cheeky minx, you planned this!" Arthur breathed against his lips, throwing the discarded shirt away.

"Please, as if you didn't already know." Snorted Merlin, still breathless and slightly shaky.

"Where is it?" Asked Arthur, nibbling along Merlin's neck. Merlin sighed contentedly.

"Where's what?"

"The oil, you brazen hussy." He murmured, delivering a quick bite to his ear lobe.

"Maybe I should make you beg for it." Said Merlin. Arthur's grip on his hips tightened.

"If you want to be able to walk for tomorrow's ceremony, don't play this game tonight." Arthur replied, his voice a velvet-like whisper into the shell of Merlin's overly sensitive ears. Merlin mewled.

"Another time, then." He gasped. "In my bag, on the floor near the bed."

Arthur was up off the soft bedding like a shot, Merlin letting loose a breathy shout of carefree laughter behind him. He yanked the bag up off the floor, and rummaged around inside desperately.

"I can barely see, there's no light." He said angrily. Merlin chortled from where he lounged across the pillows behind him. The next thing Arthur new, a brilliant sphere of pale light swam past his shoulder to hover over the bag.

"Front pocket." Said Merlin. Arthur grinned, grabbed the bottle from its hiding place, and dragged his sleep trousers swiftly off his legs, before diving back into bed. He smothered Merlin's laughter at his impatience with an unyielding kiss. Laughter was not the sort of noise he wanted to hear from his lover right this second. He broke the kiss long enough to drip a little oil on his fingers, before he reached down and circled Merlin's hole with one digit. Merlin moaned, a far more appropriate sound for the occasion.

Arthur's mouth latched onto the crook of Merlin's collarbone, and Merlin reached up to scratch a bite along Arthur's jawline. Arthur grunted and the sensation of pleasure and pain, and retaliated with slipping a second finger inside him. Merlin whimpered in unmitigated desire, as Arthur continued to stretch and open him up. Merlin's fingers clawed at the planes of Arthur's shoulders. He writhed under Arthur, his body doing the begging where his words had run dry. Arthur pressed a third finger in, twisting in such a way that Merlin keened with startled pleasure, as Arthur found the spot he was looking for and moaned in harmony with Merlin.

"Arthur." Said Merlin, his voice soft in the wake of their groans. "Please just fuck me." Arthur's chest rumbled with silent laughter. He removed his fingers, and fumbled for the tiny bottle of oil that had rolled away under a pillow in their careless abandon. He unstopped it again, and poured a good amount onto his palm, stifling a groan as he slicked his own cock thoroughly. He pulled Merlin's hips to him again, and teased the rim of his hole with the tip of his cock, stifling a chuckle as Merlin made various threatening noises.

"Are you tired of the teasing?" He whispered.

"Fuck, Arthur!" Groaned Merlin. "Shut up and fuck me."

"So impatient." Murmured Arthur, as he leaned down to give Merlin a slow, heady kiss, before – finally – pressing in, and the laughter stirring in his chest ebbed away as he groaned, relishing the sensation. He sank in slowly, gently, watching Merlin's face for the slightest sign that it was all too much for him. He stilled his movements when he was sheathed to the hilt, letting Merlin adjust to the intrusion. Finally, Merlin moved. His eyes opened, and Arthur saw with relief that there was nothing there but desire. He pulled out as far as he could without leaving him entirely, before pushing back in.

Merlin's hand went to his own cock, stroking and pulling at it, before Arthur pushed his hand away, and worked at Merlin's erection himself. He moved slowly, twisting his wrist, gently and feather-light, in time with his thrusts. Merlin panted beneath him, and dug his heels into the small of Arthur's back. His gasps and stuttering breaths turned into moans, and soon he was moaning Arthur's name, imploring him to move faster. Arthur shifted Merlin's hips, pushing at his legs, moving them higher. Merlin managed to hook one ankle onto Arthur's shoulder; Arthur wasn't quite sure how he managed that manoeuvre, but he thoroughly approved of it as his next thrust made him sink even deeper. He groaned at the tight, hot feeling of Merlin, around him, under him. He nibbled at Merlin's collar bone, his hand stroking Merlin's hip as he could no longer reach his cock, murmuring softly at him all the while. Arthur kept a steady rhythm, as Merlin's hand moved frantically to pull at his cock, heavy on his stomach. Arthur caged Merlin closer within his arms, and began to fuck him with abandon.

Merlin gave an incomprehensible shout, and came hard, coating his hand, his chest, and Arthur. Arthur didn't pause in his thrusts, couldn't pause, but the sight of Merlin beneath him, completely spent, was almost enough to drive him over the cresting wave he was riding.

"Arthur." Merlin moaned, and in his mouth, his name seemed to become a sacred prayer. It was all it took for send Arthur hurtling over the edge. He came with a guttural shout.

They lay in the almost complete darkness, able to just make out each other's features with the moon shining through the window. Catching their breaths, they were enveloped in a bubble of relief, and quiet calm. Arthur raised his head just enough to watch Merlin come back to himself slowly, looking more relaxed and at peace than Arthur had ever seen him.

"So stubborn." Whispered Arthur, planting a kiss on his forehead, before pulling out as gently as he could. Merlin made an over sensitised sound in the back of his throat as Arthur came free, and Arthur chuckled as he went to fetch a damp washcloth to clean them with. Merlin propped himself up on an elbow, sweaty and sated, as he watched Arthur walk across the cold stone floor to the washbasin.

"Stubborn?" He asked, his voice a little rough. Arthur grinned.

"We could have been doing all this for ages."

Camelot was restored to its rightful ruler. Arthur's coronation was as bright and golden as the man himself. Sunlight drifted in through the high windows, and it was as if the old gods themselves breathed a sigh of relief as the crown touched Arthur's head.

A great feast was held, with nobles from across the five kingdoms in attendance. Since returning to Camelot, Arthur had warned the knights that they were going to need a lot of food, for various celebrations. There had been a hunting party almost every day, and Arthur had been agitated in the knowledge that he was too busy to go galivanting in the woods, and take the edge off his stress. The nobles had a wonderful feast, and all enjoyed themselves immensely.

A day later, Arthur repealed the ban on magic, and made Merlin the official Court Sorcerer. Another feast was held, this time with the people of Camelot. A huge bonfire was held in the town square, so unlike the pyres that Uther had built. Merlin performed great displays of magic at Arthur's request; sparks from the fire taking the shapes of butterflies, birds, fish that swam around peoples' heads, barking dogs that chased around the ankles of giggling children, but burned none.

There was music, dancing, and laughter, a great boar was roasted. Arthur led Gwen, now the Lady Guinevere, into the centre for the first dance, before handing her dutifully to Lance, and spinning gracefully with Morgana. Every so often, he looked up to see Merlin watching him from the side, clapping and laughing along.

Later, in the privacy of Arthur's bedroom, Arthur had interrupted Merlin as he stripped for bed and pulled him tightly into his arms. He hummed the jaunty tunes they had heard all evening, and swung him around the room, Merlin laughing into his shoulder all the while. Their dances were for them and them alone; it was better this way, as their dances had a tendency to descend into acts not suitable for Camelot's people to watch.

On the third day of Arthur's official reign, Morgana's vision came to life before her eyes. She publicly became Morgana Pendragon for all to see; burning like fire, a vision of beauty and triumph in gold and red. Another dance was held in the square, and this time both Merlin and Morgana joined forces to demonstrate their powerful illusions to the crowd. They pulled water from the well into the air, and created a large warship that sailed through the air. They turned it into spinning rose, a sword, a charging horse, and a colossal dragon that soared above the castle to the astonishment of the people. Finally, they directed most of the water back into the well, but left a large amount, that they transformed into the shape of a bucket, and dropped over Arthur's head.

The Lady Morgana spent a lot of time formally introducing her sister, the Lady Morgause, to the Lady Guinevere, and the men surrounding them were often worried at the devious looks that crossed their faces as they whispered to each other. The trio were terrible for matchmaking and hellbent on tricking the knights and nobles that strayed across their path. The knights had an official ceremony in the throne room, and swiftly came to grips with their surroundings and life in Camelot. The Court Sorcerer had an official bed chamber across the hall from the King's that was never used, and it was rare indeed to see one without the other.

Far away towards the North of Camelot, in a warm, dry cave, a young girl with sightless eyes, Saw them all, and smiled contentedly.

FIN