Okay, this is the last chapter. Thanks to everybody for their support. I really hope you enjoyed my story and would be kind enough to give a final review as an overview!

"I knight you, Sir Bedivere of Camelot."

King Uther stood in the centre of the Great Hall with a sword in one hand which he gently pressed onto either shoulder of the kneeling boy. Despite being so young the youth had definitely earned his reward. He even seemed to have grown bigger in the time since he arrived – more confident and even muscular – if that was possible. Bedivere rose to a massive round of applause. In the crowd were Merlin and Arthur.

"I don't get it. How come he gets a knighthood when I've saved you a million times?" Merlin crossed his arms in frustration, his forehead wrinkling.

"Oh come on, Merlin, what do you expect? You are a servant. Besides you've never saved my life by killing your own father. That takes guts."

"I happen to have liked my father," Merlin began as Arthur laughed.

"Well, maybe you should have been awake and you could've helped him in the rescue," the prince informed him and moved off to congratulate the boy.

"You don't know the half of it," the warlock grumbled indignantly.

Something landed on his shoulder, talons gripped his skin gently. Elsu had appeared. He seemed to be enjoying his freedom once more. Now he didn't have Merlin in his head practically ordering him where to fly and how to behave. He probably hoped Merlin would never dabble in animal magic again. The sorcerer was pretty certain he could guarantee the falcon that he wouldn't. Yes, he had enjoyed some of the aspects of being a bird but he never, ever wanted to be trapped again. That was something he could live without.

"I'm not surprised they don't give you a knighthood as well. You had just as much a hand in the rescue as Bedivere did. Well sort of. I suppose you couldn't have actually undone Arthur's shackles on your own." The merlin made an odd sound, almost like a chuckle, before launching into the air again. Merlin stared after him for a second before walking off himself to join the festivities.

In the depths of the dark cave in the centre of the forest a woman gazed once more into the bottom of a basin. The water inside was clear and still, giving her a vivid picture of three boys: one blonde, one black, one bronze haired. All three were laughing and smiling together. These were her enemies, the people who alone could destroy her. She couldn't believe she'd allowed them all to get away unscathed.

With a cry of anger, she brought her fist down on the smooth surface and obliterated the happy image. It infuriated her. They did not deserve to be joyful; they should all be dead or mourning. Especially Merlin, the warlock should have perished today at her hand but he hadn't, even in bird form he had evaded her. And he still continued to be at Prince Arthur's side, protecting and guiding him.

She must destroy him. Not yet though. Now was not the time. Waiting was the key.

Night had fallen on the kingdom of Camelot and the majority of the population had settled down to sleep. The castle was an exception however. Its inhabitants partied into the evening, rejoicing the safe return of their future king and the knighthood of his brave saviour. There was feasting, singing, dancing and entertainment; Uther seemed to have gone all out – something he did not often do.

Merlin, who did not usually agree with wild parties, was actually enjoying himself. Arthur had drunk too much alcohol to give him any coherent orders so the manservant had free reign. The young man had even been allowed to join in the prince's conversations. Not that they were really conversations, just lots of lewd jokes and innuendos. Lady Morgana had wandered by at some point but had left immediately once she heard their topic of choice – disgusted. Men could be so despicable.

At around midnight the majority of people had crawled to bed, dragging those who were completely incapacitated with them. There were few left in the Great Hall – excluding the unconscious – mostly slumped on chairs and talking. Merlin, Arthur and Bedivere were some of the few. They'd drawn up seats and now sat in a small semi circle, sagging with tiredness but refusing to make their way to bed. None of them were quite sure what they were actually discussing and in the morning they would remember none of it. It didn't matter though; it was nice to get to know one another.

As he listened to the two other boys, Arthur surveyed them casually. It was strange, this time last year he would never have thought that he would be sitting here – enjoying himself – and talking to his servant and a fifteen year old boy. Still, the prince was certain he'd changed a lot. He'd dismissed his old crowd not that long ago, they hadn't really been great friends anyway, they just followed him because of who he was. All of them were ignorant and arrogant – probably how other people would've have described him back then. However, as said, Arthur had definitely changed for the better. He had Merlin to thank for that.

Looking at the lanky, raven-haired servant you wouldn't think he could do anything to change a spoilt boy such as Arthur but he had somehow managed it. He had taught the prince what it meant to be loyal and kind and caring. Merlin had always been courageous but not in the way that was obvious. He stood up for what he believed but only when it really matter, not just for the hell of it. The prince would now class him as a hero. Not that he would ever tell Merlin that.

"Earth to Arthur," an amused voice brought the king-to-be out of his reverie. Arthur blinked and tried to focus. He saw a half smile curling on Merlin's lips. "Tired? Have Bedi and I worn you out?"

"No! I could go another ten rounds of cider and stay up at least another day or two before you could ever wear me out." The man was quick to boast.

"All right then." Bedivere leapt up and almost toppled over. He had never drunk so much in his life. "Let me get some more drinks. Then we can really if you're telling the truth." The youth tottered off to the banquet table. He returned a few minutes later with an armful of green bottles. "Drink!"

The sun rose over the hills casting a warm glow on the sleepy city. A few early risers were wandering out of their homes: filling water buckets, lighting stoves, chopping wood and feeding the animals. A hungry cow lowed in its shelter, searching for food.

Up at the castle, Morgana had awakened earlier than usual, feeling oddly refreshed considering her late night, and dressed. Gwen had brought her breakfast from the kitchens. As the handmaiden set the tray of bread and fruit down on the lady's table she smirked to herself. The king's ward noticed.

"What's so funny?" she asked curiously.

"Oh…well, I'm not sure I should tell you."

"You can't say that and then not tell me, Gwen, that's torture!" Morgana slapped her friend gently on the shoulder in mock annoyance.

"How about I show you instead?"

"Okay."

The pair of girls tiptoed down the large stone staircase so as not to disturb anyone and Gwen beckoned for her mistress to go after her. Morgana followed, full of anticipation. They reached the large oak doors to the Great Hall and the servant girl pushed them open quietly. She then gestured for the Lady to enter.

The sight that met the noblewoman's eyes made her let out a small gasp of surprise. In the big room was the devastation left by last night's festivities: tables and chairs upturned, food strewn on the floor and up the walls, sleeping people lying in random places. But what really caught her attention was in the centre of the room. Three familiar bodies were sprawled there, piled together in a jumbled mass of limbs. Although the position on the floor couldn't have been comfortable the boys looked completely at peace with the world. Each had an innocent, angelic expression on their sleeping face.

"Oh, aren't they adorable?!" Morgana giggled, referring to Arthur's position especially. He was lying with his head on Merlin's shoulder, golden spikes of hair brushing at the underside of the manservant's chin. Obviously the younger man was a very comfortable pillow for him because he was smiling in his sleep. The young warlock had his arm thrown across the prince's chest in a very protective manner. Bedivere was curled in a foetal ball on Arthur's other side, looking very much like a cat who'd found the perfect nest.

"I know. I think they must have passed out last night," Gwen chuckled.

"But you know what would make this scene even better?" The King's ward said a sudden wicked glint in her eye.

"What?"

"Water!"