This was meant to be a one-shot. It has now developed into a three-shot, if my guesstimation is correct. I'll update either Thursday or Sunday, probably, depending on how much progress I make toward wrapping it up. Also, while this isn't a romance story, it includes hints of Arthur/Gwen, Lancelot/Gwen, and Merlin/Morgana. Enjoy!

.X.x.X.

Blue sky. Green grass. The hustle of merchants and potential buyers in the market. Servants chasing dogs or corralling horses.

It was life as usual. Except not.

The prince strode mechanically across the courtyard, a line in her direction. He spared her no glance, as was proper. While brushing past her, he muttered, "Tonight, armory."

He didn't stop to make sure she'd heard.

There were guards in the armory, Gwen knew. There were guards everywhere, at all times, in threes or more. One to watch the others' backs, two to watch for intruders. And kill them, of course. "Incapacitate," they claimed.

Like everyone didn't know what that meant.

She made a show of pumping a bucket full of water - you could never be certain who was watching - and carried it to the bath house. This was the last task before lunch. Then she was permitted to eat and talk to the other maidservants about appropriate topics, in audible voices and in the presence of a higher authority.

And after that? Back to work. Back into solitude.

.X.x.X.

Wispy clouds blocked some but not all of the moonlight. A lone figure made her way to the armory, careful not to let her steps echo.

At the entrance, she found the prone bodies of four guards clothed in Cenredian garb. Of course there would be an extra here; it wouldn't do to let commoners get their hands on a weapon. She stepped carefully over a rotund belly and peered around.

From the shadows, the prince emerged.

"Glad you could make it," he whispered, nodding to the guards. "Took care of them earlier. Slipped a sleeping draft into their drinks."

Gwen shuddered, thinking of the risks that entailed. "It's a good thing they didn't clear out Gaius' cupboards," she replied, voice equally low. "Though it can't have been easy getting in there."

"It wasn't." Arthur's words were strained, like it caused him pain to say them. "Leon agreed to distract Merlin so I could sneak in."

"How is he? Leon, I mean." She knew full well how Merlin was.

Arthur stood stock still. "Dead."

Gwen's heart sank; in the past few months, Leon had become a remarkable friend as well as an ally. But truth be told, it wasn't surprising. He'd been battered and beaten at least twice a week since this mess began, but he took it all without complaint. It had always been only a matter of time before it got to him.

"He'll be missed," she said softly. Arthur took her hand and squeezed it.

"His death isn't in vain, I promise you. That's why I called you here. I've got a plan..."

.X.x.X.

"Ouch!" cried Gwen, biting her lip and averting her eyes. She didn't want to look at the blood on her hand, tiny pinprick or not.

Queen Morgana looked up disdainfully. "Perhaps if you weren't so clumsy, you could avoid such things," she snapped. "Carry on, and don't disturb me again."

Dipping her head respectfully, Gwen continued hemming one of the queen's dresses, until - "Ouch!" she exclaimed again, clutching her left hand with her right.

Morgana snapped again, "There was a time, Guinevere, when I swear you knew how to do these things properly! Go and wrap your hand, I have no interest in wearing blood-stained dresses."

Gwen nodded and hastened to obey. She reached the door before Morgana stopped her. "Wait," she commanded, then looked to the guards posted on each of the throne room doors. "Aglain, Peregrin, escort her."

The two burly men flanked her and led her from the hall, Gwen massaging her hand emphatically.

She waited until no one else was in sight.

Before either registered the knife in her hand, she'd slit both their throats, a messy but necessary procedure. It was quick and quiet, two things that were key in this plan.

She slid the blade back into her sleeve, in a tuck of cloth perfect for storing small objects.

Making sure the coast was clear, she dragged them into a store room and moved on to her next target.

.X.x.X.

As expected, Arthur already stood positioned outside the door.

Does he know you're here? mouthed Gwen. The prince shook his head and beckoned her forward.

With agonizing slowness and praying it emitted no noise, he drew his sword. He moved to open the door, but it swung on its hinges of its own accord.

Or rather, of Merlin's accord.

"Did you really think you would get away with it?" he hissed in that voice so unlike his. Gwen felt the familiar weight in her stomach that accompanied hearing her old friend speak. "Lower your sword, Pendragon."

"Not on your life," replied the prince calmly, and he promptly knocked the sorcerer over the head with the hilt.

Now lifeless on the floor, Merlin didn't look any different than he used to, except that he didn't wear the neck scarf and sported a black jacket instead of a brown one.

Arthur knelt beside him and gently, tenderly, laid a hand on the side of Merlin's head. A small trickle of blood from the impact matted his hair. That was going to hurt like hell when he woke up.

"We're going to fix this," the prince murmured. Gwen couldn't tell if he was talking to Merlin or her. Perhaps a little bit of both.

Where Merlin's room used to be was now the store room for everything of value that he protected for Morgana, Morgause, and Cenred. Common knowledge whispered that the ancient spellbook resided under a floorboard, the single habit Merlin hadn't lost with his sense of self.

Gwen dragged the enormous tome from its dusty refuge and flipped through its pages, not looking for a solution, just wishing for one.

"That's not what we came here for," said a voice behind her. Arthur. He crossed the room in three long strides and pointed to a crystal.

It looked innocent enough - certainly not important, for it simply sat there on the shelf, gathering dust like the spellbook.

Then the prince reached out to touch it, and a glowing energy shield sprang to life around it. He nodded, as though he'd expected as much.

"How are we going to get to it?" Gwen asked worriedly. She knew all too well what happened when skin or anything else came into contact with such a barrier. Then: "What is it?"

"It's Merlin," replied Arthur.

Which shouldn't have made sense, but did.

"And how do we free it?"

"We poison it."

.X.x.X.

She was reminded forcibly of the goblin fiasco as she and Arthur selected the appropriate poison and antidote.

The tincture of nightshade sizzled on contact with the energy shield. It wanted to burn through it fast as lightning like it did everything else, but it recognized the danger of poison.

She could almost hear the magic's thought process. If it disappeared and let the poison pass, it would destroy the thing it guarded. It would not sacrifice itself for something that deserved to die anyway.

The shield winked out, and instantly the poison sank instead into the crystal.

It wasn't so much a crystal as a sphere of magic, not unlike the energy barrier, but soothing instead of irate. They couldn't touch it, Arthur warned. Then they would take it into themselves.

Together they hauled Merlin's limp figure into the storage room. Arthur dumped a glass of ice-cold water onto his face to wake him.

Empty blue eyes flickered open and darkened instantly. He struggled to his feet, coldly demanding, "Who dare-"

"I do," said Arthur simply, and pushed him into the shelf.

Merlin stumbled forward and hit the shelf with a crash. He bellowed in fury, but as he did, his hand passed through the blue-white sphere. He stopped moving with a jolt, staring curiously at his hand where it had just absorbed the magic.

A shiver ran up his spine, a visible, pulsing shiver. His over-dilated pupils shrank to normal size, his skin white as death regained what little pallor he'd ever had. The unfriendly black jacket slipped off his shoulders as he shook, trembling uncontrollably from head to toe.

He blinked rapidly, like he'd just looked into a bright light and his vision was still clearing. He looked from Gwen to Arthur, a question written on his face and then voiced aloud.

"Arthur?" he asked, like he wasn't sure, and then abruptly collapsed.

.X.x.X.

It took hours for him to wake this time.

"My head," was the first thing he said, putting a hand to the offending body part and moaning. Gwen turned over the cloth on his brow and pressed it down softly. Arthur continued to squeeze his hand, looking like he wanted nothing more than to throw up.

"You're back, then," he remarked. Merlin's gaze grew unfocused and then cleared again. "I thought..."

"What?" inquired Merlin, but all of them already knew. He glanced around and winced. "It hurts," he groaned.

"What does?"

"Everything. The light, my head, moving, even sitting here. What the bloody hell did you do to me?"

Arthur didn't look at him when he said, "Poison."

Merlin stiffened, then relaxed. "Well," he said with deceiving calm. "I can't say I remember what I've done in the past... how long has it been? But I'm guessing whatever it was, I deserve this."

"No," growled Arthur fiercely. "No, you damn well don't deserve this! That complete witch deserves this and more for everything she did to Camelot, to you, to all of us!" He said "witch" like an insult. Gwen didn't know if he meant Morgana or Morgause. "Nothing you did will be held against you, not by anyone on our side. Morgana may call herself queen, but to those still loyal to us, my word will be enough to protect you." He glared, like he dared Merlin to deny it.

"Then there is something to protect me from."

Arthur flinched, but didn't hesitate to respond. "Yes."

Gwen caught his eye, and they both silently agreed not to mention Leon. At least not yet.

"How bad is it?" Arthur took a deep breath and described, in a very condensed fashion, what had gone on the last few months. The other man's face grew sourer and more pained with each word. "So what's our plan?" he asked when Arthur brought him up to date.

It was the prince's turn to wince. "We were hoping you could tell us," he admitted.

Merlin shut his eyes and sank against the hard cot. Why hadn't the supposed most powerful sorcerer alive transfigured himself a better bed?

Magic. Merlin. It still didn't sit quite right with her.

"They're too strong to take as one," he said at last. "We need to separate them. Who are their strongest supporters?"

"Nearly everyone," Arthur answered grimly.

Gwen shook her head. "That's not true. Perhaps nearly everyone obeys the queen's will, but how many would follow her to the death if it came to that? Few knights would choose her side over yours, Arthur, and even fewer who were knights before Morgause took over."

Funny, how Morgause's came more readily to her lips than Morgana's. The queen had been her friend once, and now she was Camelot's marionette on twisted strings.

"There's something you should know," put in Arthur. "The Druid boy, Mordred... He's Sir Mordred now. I think he's meant to be a secret weapon, but I already know he has magic, and he's made it clear he's no friend to us."

At the mere mention of Mordred's name, Merlin paled in unmistakable alarm. "No," he breathed. "He's here? In Camelot? As a knight?"

Arthur frowned. "Surely it's not that dis- breathe, Merlin!"

The lanky boy's body jerked and spasmed suddenly, threatening to throw him off the cot. Arthur's firm arms anchored him in place while Gwen watched helplessly.

When he was in control again, Merlin gasped out, "S-sorry, I didn't-"

"It's the poison, don't worry, we know," Gwen reassured him. She took the cloth from his forehead, dipped it in the bucket of cold water, and wrung it out before repositioning it. "You need to rest and get better."

"I can't rest!" he protested, trying to sit up, but Arthur still had a hand pressed to his chest that hindered all movement. "Camelot is-"

"The exact same as it's been for four months," finished Arthur. "As long as no one tries anything stupid, they'll be fine."

Merlin clamped his mouth shut, and it occurred to Gwen that as terrible and weak as he looked right now, he was already stronger than the fake had been. Magic could only do so much.

They sat there, the three of them, the ones still loyal, and considered what few choices they had. When at last they came to a rough decision on the best course of action, Gwen returned to the queen, mumbling that the guards had left her alone and she'd tried waiting for them to return as an escort, but they never showed.

Morgana believed every word.