Twenty years – that is how long Ceri had lived in Ealdor, although her birth city was Camelot. It was how long her mother had been dead and her birth father had been missing (presumed dead). She had been ill for twenty years. Born early, Ceri had weak lungs – she couldn't run or swim, she often got ill, and several times she had stopped breathing all together. And, for twenty years, Arthur Pendragon had been the only father she had known. He had taken Ceri in the night her father went missing. Ultimately, because of her druid background, his kind deed had angered Uther so greatly that Arthur had been stripped of his title and exiled.

Today was her birthday – she was twenty-one now and she had lived twenty-one years longer than anyone had ever anticipated. It was, in fact, to the moment of her birth. Ceri had been born at dusk. She had spent most of this birthday in bed, asleep and recovering from a bought of breathlessness. She had gone apple picking and in the middle of the little venture, her lungs just gave up. And, as she slept, she dreamed. And as she dreamed, she thrashed and screamed weakly.

It had been twenty long years for Arthur Pendragon, former Prince of Camelot. After he had been exiled he had gone to Ealdor as Hunith had suggested and there he had raised Ceri like she was his own daughter, though he had made sure that she knew who he real parents were; it was only fair. Raising a sickly child was no small chore. For the most part people in Ealdor left him alone with the child, though time and again Arthur would call on the help of Alice.

Slowly time had passed. Ceri did not die, instead she grew older and as she grew Arthur began to leave her with Alice, at first for only a day or two and then it got to be a little longer. For seventeen years he searched high and low for Ceri's true father, Merlin but he never found any news as to the young man's whereabouts or if he was even still alive. Finally on Ceri's eighteenth birthday Arthur had given up the search. It had been at least five years since he had heard anything from Camelot, and he had stopped writing himself when purchasing the necessary writing supplies became hard due to severe drought and lack of money.

Arthur was seated in his chair reading a book in the dim candlelight when he had heard Ceri scream. He and Ceri were living in Hunith's little hut, to which Arthur had made a few improvements, namely adding three new rooms so Ceri could have a bedroom of her own. Dropping the book, Arthur ran for the small bottle that was on the shelf. Taking it he poured it in to a pot of pre heated water before taking that in to Ceri's bedroom.

Sitting down on the side of the bed Arthur put out a hand and gently brushed it along the girl's face. "Sweetheart, it's okay..." he said loud enough to where she should wake up but not loud enough to scare her. The breathing treatment he had prepared was just in case she had an attack.

Ceri writhed in her bed. She fought her father's touch by turning her head left and right. "Leave him be," she muttered in her sleep. Her eyes were tightly closed and her forehead was puckered in apprehension. A slight moan escaped her parted lips. "Leave him be."

Ceri's eyes snap open. Her eyes dart wildly around until her gaze settles upon her father. The curly-haired young woman grabs her father's arm. "Oh, papa, it was so realistic. I was dreaming of the same man…the man I've dreamt of for months. But, I could see him so clearly this time."

With her chest heaving, she pushed herself into a sitting position. "He was hurt, papa," Ceri said as tears lined her brown eyes. "Scars covered his hands and face. Although, he slept curled upon his side, he looked like he was in discomfort. And oh…how skinny he was! Even though his clothes, I could see his ribs. It was horrible! The man wore chains about his wrists and arms."

Ceri shivered. She coughed once from all the talking. "And I think I saw his captor. It was blonde woman," she finished. "I wish we could find him."

Arthur wrapped strong arms around the young girl. He couldn't even guess the pain and hurt she was in; having those types of dreams all of the time. "I wish we knew who he was. Can you describe him for me sweetie?" He had asked Ceri to describe the man she saw before but she hadn't been able to tell him much but now that she said she had seen him clearly, Arthur hoped once again she could describe him in greater detail.

A tiny portion of his mind wondered if this person that she was seeing could be Merlin, but the logic center of his brain told him that it was an impossibility. Merlin was gone; dead more than likely, and the dreams that Ceri was constantly having were probably nothing more than dreams.

More than anything Arthur wished he could have found Merlin; at least then he would have known and would have been able to bring some peace to not only himself but to the boy's mother but obviously that had not happened. It was that constant 'unknown' factor that had Arthur depressed and miserable each year 'The Day' rolled around. He blamed himself for not listening and understanding where is manservant was coming from. It was his fault (more or less) that Merlin was gone and even though he didn't know it for sure, Arthur blamed himself for killing his one and only best friend.

Ceri leaned her head against her father's shoulder and pressed herself tightly into his embrace. When she closed her eyes, images of the man flickered through her mind. His scars, from his poorly healed wounds, were the focus on her thoughts. Nasty and red, they looked painful. The young woman couldn't take it anymore and her eyelids lift themselves upwards so that her dark brown eyes were open.

She pushed herself away from her father. Scooting along the bed, she swung her legs over the bed and let them dangle. Ceri was a small girl, shorter than most her age, so her toes didn't touch the ground. It was as if an eleven or twelve year old girl was sitting next to Arthur instead of a twenty-one year old woman.

"He was so skinny and long. Even though he was curled up on his side, I knew he was tall – taller then you," she began. "His hair was short and dark…perhaps black or brown. It was similar to my color."

She paused and closed her eyes again. "And his nose, it was thin, but prominent. A little beaky," Ceri mused. "But, it fit his face and went with his ears."

Ceri gasped as she opened her eyes again. "There was magic used. The blonde-woman I saw, she used magic on him. There was a soft glow that enveloped him as if she were binding him to the spot. The light shined through his ears…his very big ears."

Ceri pressed her fingers to her eyes as if to rid her mind of the dream. "I don't know who he is. I wish I did. I've never seen him before. But, he's in trouble I know it," she whispered.

Arthur gingerly pressed a hand to Ceri's shoulder in an attempt to comfort her when the young lady pressed her fingers to her eyes. He didn't say it because he didn't want to get her hopes up but what she had described for him fit Merlin's description to a 'T'...except for the injuries that he was sure the man had sustained throughout the years.

"You have a strong attachment to this man, don't you?" Arthur asked. It really wasn't a question, more a statement of fact. Ceri had dreams all throughout her life and it seemed this man was all she ever dreamed about.

Ceri shrugged and then nodded after a moment. "I suppose so. I do worry about him. I don't like that he's being hurt. I don't like he's in danger," she whispered. "I feel sorry for this man. He was so sad, papa. Even in his unconscious stat, he was devoid of hope. It just felt like a shell. There was no life or will to live, just resignation. Even though I was not there, I could sense it radiating off of him."

He wanted to try and find this person, but there were caves everywhere. It would take a very long time to search them all. "Ceri, do you think he's close or far?" The young man asked. He was going to trust the girl's judgment because if she was sensing Merlin then it was a safe bet that she could at least be able to pinpoint her father's general location.

"I don't know, papa. It was hard to tell if the place was near or not. I couldn't even describe the caves. It was very dark. I could kind of tell there were quite a few tunnels. I suppose he is or I wouldn't dream of him," she whispered.

Yawning, Ceri pulled her legs up onto the bed. Crawling under the blankets, she closed her eyes. "Night papa," she whispered, falling asleep.

"Good night kiddo." Arthur murmured. He stayed with Ceri until she fell asleep before he rose up and returned to the main part of the house. The hope that he had felt while talking with his goddaughter was slowly fading as the house once again was quiet. He wanted to believe that his friend was still alive and perhaps he was, but so what? Even Merlin was alive he wouldn't be the same. He might not even recognize them.

Moving over to the candles, Arthur blew on the flames watching them go out with a grim satisfaction. He was tired; more than he realized. Perhaps the young lady was on to something; the subtle suggestion of sleep creeping over Arthur's mind. Even in the dark he made his way in to his own bedroom, collapsing on to the bed with an exhausted sigh. Moments later he was sleeping contentedly.