"Morgana mustn't have taken them far." Elyan's voice sliced through Arthur's thoughts, distracting him from his inner musings that were none too happy. They had backtracked to the clearing beside the ravaged druid camp, and were now standing where the rest of the knights had been left to guard the druids. Both the knights and druids were mysteriously absent, adding to the already long list of problems for the day (and it wasn't even noon).

Arthur was currently kneeling as he surveyed the ground. Leon was doing the same, trying to distinguish the marks from the fight of that morning against whatever had happened while they were gone. Elyan was beside the horse, which had been tied up to a blackened tree. It had only been a few hours since they had first set foot in the clearing, and already the trees were looking more sickly, the clumps of grass weeds were wilted, and the wall of pines that shrouded the druid camp were missing a good amount of their needles. Parts of druid tents could be seen through the bare branches.

Elyan was leaning against the blackened tree, one hand and two eyes on Laudine's father, who had briefly mentioned among his incoherent keening and rambling that his name was Esclados. He was much quieter than he had been beforehand when they first encountered him beside his dead daughter. He came willingly enough when they left Laudine's body, although it was uncertain as to whether he realized what was going on. His outbursts had become less and less, and his eyes became dull, as if he wasn't seeing what was before him. He still mumbled disjointedly under his breath, and now his eyes, though still dim, wandered here and there as if he was searching for something beyond the tree line.

Arthur blamed the man's incoherency on the loss of his daughter, although Elyan and Leon were fairly sure that Arthur had a hand in it…literally. Arthur's hand was fisted against the ground, successfully supporting him as he knelt, and also successfully covering his bruised knuckles. The darkening on Esclados' face, however, was not so easily hidden. Arthur hadn't meant to punch him—or maybe he had. He didn't exactly remember what happened.

Arthur had stayed silent after the revelation of Morgana, and after a while something in his brain clicked (or snapped). Esclados willingly gave Merlin to his sister. Merlin was trapped with Morgana because of Esclados.

The next thing Arthur remembered was being dragged away from the druid by his two knights, who quickly redirected him to their priorities, the first being to regroup with the Gwaine, Lancelot, and Percival. It goes without saying that reunion had not turned out as planned.

The prince closed his eyes and shut his mouth in order to focus on his breathing and thoughts. He only had two knights left, and that number would be halved very shortly. Arthur opened his eyes and drew his gaze up to Elyan, who was waiting expectantly. "Sir Elyan," he said in what he hoped was an authoritative manner as he stood up. "I want you to take the horse back to Camelot. There, I want you to explain to the king our situation, and request for help—a party or two of knights—to aid us in a rescue." Elyan's eyes grew wider as Arthur talked.

When he was finished, Elyan made sure to choose his words carefully. "Sire, it took us six days to make it this far. It will take me at least four to make it back, and another four before I come with help…if King Uther even allows for it."

"And why wouldn't he allow for help?" countered Arthur.

"No one is saying anything of the sort," Leon quickly interjected, stepping out of his stooped posture and sidling himself beside Arthur. "However, having Elyan take the only horse…I mean to say, Merlin was barely standing when we found him. Sir Gwaine, Percival, and Lancelot may be injured as well. We may still need that horse before the end of this. " Arthur faced Leon at the mention of Merlin. "What then? Would you rather Elyan walk back to Camelot? Don't think I don't understand, but right now we need reinforcements, especially if my sister has more than just my servant. Sir Elyan," he turned back to the spoken knight, "don't make me turn this request turn into an order."

Elyan pursed his lips, but ended up nodding his head. "Of course." He half-turned and undid the horse's leash around the tree. "You'll be expecting me back in eight to ten days, it looks like. There will be smoke right at this spot if I can't find you, okay?" Elyan backed the horse away from the others, put one foot in the stirrup, and swung the other over. Arthur nodded in approval, and Leon moved up to check the saddle straps and rigging. As he readjusted one of the stirrups, he said, "Make sure to bring back bandages and some herbs from Gaius," he firmly gripped Elyan's ankle beside the stirrup, causing the younger knight to look down at him. "Remember to tell the king about what has happened here. His knights are missing, and Arthur's personal servant has been captured…nothing else."

"Don't forget Morgana," Arthur inserted, completely missing the unspoken words passing between Leon and Elyan. "Father will want to know of her involvement in this."

"Right." Elyan took a canteen from his belt and tossed it to Arthur, who caught it with two hands. Elyan inclined his head toward Esclados, who was swaying ever so slightly. "They said the water here is bad, so remember to only drink from our supply, alright?" Leon crooked an eyebrow. "You'll be leaving on a journey with no water? I thought that Sir Gwaine was supposed to be the crazy one."

Elyan shrugged, and took up the horse's reins. "No fear—I'm headed for the good, sweet waters of Camelot and her green forests. Once I reach forest that isn't rotted I'll be fine. It shouldn't take more than a day or so before I find suitable water. I'd be more worried for yourselves, here in these woods with who knows what lurking about."

"Too true. Stay safe, and be swift about it!" Leon raised his arm in farewell as Elyan steered the horse onto the trail they had come from. Elyan turned his head, and said, "You stay safe too. Leon—there are sorcerer's about, and you have to protect Arthur from any who might be a threat." Elyan held the stare a bit too long, and Arthur sighed in exasperation. "Enough with these long goodbyes. Sir Elyan, my hope goes with you to Camelot. As Sir Leon said, be swift. Farewell!" Elyan gave Arthur a nod, strayed a glance at Leon, and broke his horse into a fast trot. Arthur walked beside Leon, saying, "Don't think I don't know what the two of you were talking about."

That got Leon's attention. "Sire?" He inquired in a lower voice.

Arthur nodded slowly. "I saw the look Sir Elyan gave to you. He said to protect me from sorcerers here, and you both failed to mention Morgana earlier. Just so you know, Sir Leon, I am not compromised because Morgana was like a sister to me. I am perfectly able of protecting myself against her and her…sorcery."

Leon relaxed his stand, although this brought up another point that he had not thought of before. Morgana's involvement in this did not come as the shock it should have been. The impact of Merlin's secret had still been fresh in Leon's mind, and Morgana was, regrettably, an afterthought in his head. "We don't doubt your ability, nor your loyalty to Camelot," Leon said quietly. He had no doubt that Arthur would do the right thing when faced with Morgana. However, the question was posed—would Arthur do the right thing when faced with Merlin? Another question came—what was the right thing to do? It was obvious enough, at least it felt obvious enough. The laws of Camelot were clear. Leon looked around at the unforgiving scenery. He had said it himself…they were no longer in Camelot. The obviousness of the situation evaporated within Leon's head.

If Merlin came back to Camelot, then he would be tried, accused, and executed all within the same day. Merlin could not expect for Leon to keep the secret from King Uther. Leon glanced over at Arthur, knowing that if that was true, then he shouldn't be hiding it from Arthur. However, the situation was getting more wiry—and less obvious—with Morgana's involvement. A year ago, Leon would have never thought that Morgana would have unearthly powers that would be used to overtake Camelot. He did not want to make the same mistake with Merlin. Merlin's motives were unclear. From what Leon saw, he was a fairly powerful sorcerer, and he was taking orders from Arthur, of all people, while living in the heart of Camelot. Merlin did not strike Leon as the power-hungry sort, although he wouldn't be pegged as a sorcerer, either. Had he grown so close to Arthur for personal gain? That would put him on the same path as Morgana. The thought crossed Leon's mind before he could help himself—perhaps Merlin and Morgana were working together.

The notion felt both probable and illogical. Merlin working with Morgana was ridiculous. Merlin had been outwardly against this trip from the start ("Most likely so that they would not discover whatever Morgana was concocting," a tiny voice sounded within Leon's head), he had been shot ("By someone who was against Morgana and her allies," the voice grew louder), and he had been captured by her ("Captured, or brought back to where people accept him?" the voice goaded).

Leon refused to merit any of his suspicions. This was Merlin he was analyzing, and Merlin was a friend. Friends deserved the benefit of the doubt, didn't they? Before the nagging voice inside his head could scream "Morgana was a supposed friend as well, and look at her now!", he directed his attention back to Arthur, noticing his prince's rigid posture.

Leon remarked, "You look a bit tense, Prince Arthur."

"Of course I am," Arthur gave Leon a sideways glance. "Merlin was unlucky enough to be captured, and my knights have probably gone off and done the same. I don't want to lose any of my good men, nor my servant." Arthur took a breath. "I'd hate to have to train another servant. Do you know how long it took Merlin to figure out how to not leave smear marks on my boots? It was a nightmare. I don't think I have enough years left to train up another servant half as hopeless as him." Leon's mouth twitched into a sad smile. "You have an interesting way of complimenting your personnel."

Leon took Arthur's silence as another invitation to talk. "So, I assume you don't plan to have us waiting here for a week, twiddling our thumbs while Sir Elyan is off and Morgana has Merlin and, most likely, the others as well."

"Of course not," Arthur responded. He tilted his head slightly towards the scuff marks on the ground. "We follow the trail and see where my knights were taken. There's a good chance they will have seen Merlin, if he's not already with them. Have you figured out which trail is theirs?"

"You put too much faith in me, Sire," Leon said with a sigh. He smiled afterward and said, "However, there are tracks leading this way," he moved towards a row of gnarled trees opposite the wall of pines, "and the footprints are indented heavier than any other trail leading away from the site, as if there was more weight as they stepped. If we suppose that they were carrying the knights, then this is the path we want to follow." Arthur clapped Leon on the shoulder. "Too much faith in you? I haven't enough! When we get out of this, you'll be the one tracking Merlin whenever he tries to flee from his daily duties."

Leon sighed, "Truly the highest honor, my prince."

"Glad you see it that way. Let's go." Arthur, feeling his spirits rise now that they had a trail to follow, smiled grimly and started to head for the twisted tree road. Leon's hand clamped on his arm stopped him short, and he turned around, perplexed. Leon motioned towards Esclados. "Forgot someone?" Arthur was yanked out of his good mood. "Of course." He had put the druid out of his mind after the earlier incident.

Arthur signaled for the druid. "Well? Come on!" The druid did not act like he heard the prince. Arthur groaned in annoyance, and he sauntered up to Esclados. "Come on," he said again, tapping the druid on his arm. "We're leaving now."

"Then leave. Follow the trail to your deaths if you wish, but I shall have no part in it," Esclados said darkly, stopping his swaying and incoherent muttering. Arthur bit back a second groan, and looked at Leon for help. "You are coming, too," he began again. "You don't want to be caught in these woods without some protection, do you? We're not leaving you behind, so hurry up and come along."

"What noble words from Camelot's prince," Esclados snarled. "How kind of him to have my well-being in mind, if it is truly my well-being he is after." Arthur couldn't hold back his sigh this time, and replied slowly, "…Your daughter said that you could completely heal my servant. If you do that, I will not hold you accountable for handing him over to the enemy. You're also staying with us for the obvious reason of not ratting us out to your friends."

Esclados trudged past Arthur. "Friends? As in the ones who stole my daughter's life? You needn't fear that, Prince Arthur. However, I suggest that you take the approach of that other knight of yours. Run back to your castle. Your other companions are already lost, and if we linger here in this forest, we shall surely be dead by nightfall."

Arthur shot back, "Then let's not linger. I take it that you are coming peacefully?" Arthur stared at Esclados until he received a begrudged "Very well" in reply. "Good." Arthur loosened his hold on the hilt of his sword, and gave Leon a nod. "Let's go."

Leon mimicked Arthur's nod in reply, and the three followed the trail through the decaying trees. The tracks led them in the opposite direction of the druid camp along a fairly straight path, and the footprints were only becoming deeper and more defined, which was the sort of good luck Arthur thought he deserved by now.

Unsurprisingly, the luck was short-lived.

Twenty minutes later the trio came to a halt. The trail had also halted, and neither Arthur nor Leon could find where it picked up again. The footprints disappeared at the edge of a small knoll that broke up the surrounding trees. Arthur noticed that these trees still looked healthy and green, and the knoll itself had long patches of grass and moss, although the area was still infected, if the lack of birdsong and insects was any clue.

"There may be a secret passage somewhere," Leon suggested after having scoped the area twice. "Is there?" Arthur asked Esclados, who would know more than they did. Esclados glared at them. He had reverted back to his quiet lamenting after the first five minutes, and that hadn't seemed to help his relationship with the other two.

"Possibly," he muttered.

"Okay, that's a start." Arthur inspected the area where the footprints had stopped. They ended next to a few slabs of rock jutting out of the ground that helped give the knoll some height. The rocks themselves were waist high, so Arthur knelt down to study them. He peered in close, squinting slightly as he found what he was looking for. He traced one of his fingers across small letters carved into the rock at its base. "Stanas hiersu—something…me ac…aliese." Arthur stared at the unknown words, bewildered. "Esclados! Come here. What is this?"

Esclados shuffled over slowly, and only glanced briefly at the strange sounding words. "Stanas hiersumaþ me ac aliese. Words from the Old Religion. Not that you would know, being from Camelot usually means that you are uneducated in these types of things." He continued, staring everywhere except Arthur and rambling a bit. "It's a spell, and it says 'stone, obey me and open' The entrance is through there, of course. There always is some sort of trick with the tunnels, whether it be a riddle or an enchantment, who knows. It seems that we stumbled across an easier one—the only thing we have to do is say the words and the entrance will open."

Leon came in, "You both said it, and nothing happened."

Esclados shook his head. "I already told you, it's magic. Your prince here certainly does not have the skills," Arthur frowned at Esclados' jab, "and I didn't put any magic behind my words."

Arthur, getting annoyed once more, said, "Then why not 'put some magic behind your words', and get on with it?" Esclados bowed his head and smiled. "What a thing for the Prince of Camelot to say. Truly, this is a memorable day. What would your father say?"

"Stop goading and just do what needs to be done." Arthur had enough of this. He felt pressed for time, and that time did not call for a mourning and resentful druid. Said druid raised his head, appraising Arthur as he did so. "What needs to be done…hmm. It won't matter what I say, will it? You will gladly go into the monster's mouth and be eaten, all for the hope of rescuing your men." Arthur shifted, "That's not necessarily how I would put it," he lifted his chin, "but yes, of course I would."

Esclados blinked once, slowly and deliberately, and his eyes opened a different color. Arthur tensed his stance, and he noticed Leon's hand inching up to rest on his sword's hilt. "Stanas hiersumaþme ac aliese." The words slid out, and Arthur hadn't even noticed them until he felt a tremor. He turned to the slab of rock, but in its place was a gaping hole.

Leon took a few steps closer to the new hollow, leaning forward cautiously. "It descends into a tunnel." He turned his head to Esclados. "This is where they went?" Esclados nodded slowly. Arthur advanced himself so that he was beside Leon. He and Leon shared a look. "After you," Leon swept himself aside. Arthur looked into the tunnel, and inwardly steeled himself before hunching over and proceeding into its darkness.

Arthur turned back to the light once he was crouched inside the low entrance. Leon was right behind him. The floor was veering downwards, and there was enough light streaming in to see the passage level out several yards below. Arthur began to half-walk, half-slide down the slope. His hands found the narrow walls, slowing himself down as his sliding became more prominent than his walking. Leon bumped into him as he stopped his descent, and Arthur carefully turned his head as his arms locked against the walls, keeping him stable. He saw Leon up against him, the knight's footwork as unstable as his own, and up at the entrance, blocking part of the light, was Esclados. That's not suspicious at all, Arthur doubtfully thought.

"Esclados, we're not going any further until you join us down here!" Arthur shouted back up the tunnel.

Esclados kneeled so as to look down at Arthur properly. "Then you will stay put for a very long time. Nothing will stop you, Prince Arthur, not with your determination. You are willing to do what you believe what must be done…" he took a prolonged sigh, "and I will do what I know must be done. The witch's servants already know of this place—you will be caught, and you will die. You refuse to run, as is the wise thing to do, so I know that it would be much better for you if you died any other way than the way that witch would have." Esclados ended with another sad sigh, and his face had contorted into something resembling grief, like a father who had to tell his children bad news.

Arthur's skepticism increased tenfold, and he shakily turned around, switching his handholds on the wall. "Leon, up, now."

Leon mimicked Arthur's turning, and started to climb back up using both his hands and feet. At the same time he mentioned sharply, "Like daughter like father. Seems like just our luck, doesn't it?"

Arthur grumbled at the comment, and started shouting when he noticed the druid moving. "Hey! Just wait! Don't you do any—" Arthur was cut off by a rumble that sounded all around him. He and Leon froze, crouched in place. Arthur spun his head back to the depths of the tunnel. The earth seemed to shake before him, and a haze of dust surged forward out of the tunnel.

They heard Esclados' voice above the quake, and Arthur recognized one word—stanas. "He's bringing the rocks down," Arthur surmised quietly, then more loudly he said, "Go!" He choked on the clouds of dust that were billowing around them as he hurriedly followed Leon's lead back up the incline.

The rumbling turned monstrous, and the low hanging ceiling began to split above them. Fist-sized rocks fell from the cracks, and they bounced off of Arthur and Leon's armor as the two fled upwards.

Arthur held his breath, the dust becoming too heavy in the air. It stung his eyes and he was forced to squint, the streaming sunlight and the silhouetted figure of Leon being his only hint as to which direction to head. The ground underneath him rattled, and he felt the rocky earth shifting beneath his feet. He slid down with a strained yelp as cracks appeared around his feet. He closed his mouth once more, repulsed by the dusty tang now in his mouth, and his backslide was immediately stopped by Leon's hand snagging his outstretched forearm.

Arthur's other hand clamped onto the side wall, and he steadied himself as Leon hauled him back up towards the entrance. Leon reached the light first, and the knight propelled himself forward, tackling the druid.

Esclados fell with a shout, ending his spell. Arthur was climbing the last few feet when the wall supporting his frame crumbled. He twisted around, trying to gain balance, and through the thick dust he saw the entire ceiling collapse in the tunnel. His eyes grew wider, and he lost his balance once again as the floor he stood on gave way. Stones—now much bigger than the fist-sized ones from before—crashed into the ground deep within the tunnel, and the falling rocks and imploding ceiling proceeded forward until it bypassed Arthur and collapsed the entrance.

"Arthur!" Arthur briefly heard Leon's shout before he was drowned in darkness and rock.

The cave-in had trapped Arthur, but it had also freed three wary knights far below in the depths of the tunnels. The knights had made good use of their chance rescue—their capturers had been conquered, they were reunited with Merlin, and they even found a way out of that bedeviled tunnel system. True, there were more druids that had been lurking about, and Merlin had been injured to a frightening degree once found, and it goes without saying that the only way they escaped was because of Merlin's no-longer-secret-but-still-just-as-illegal magical powers.

But the main point was that they were out. The only problem was that they could not find a way back in.

Lancelot was the last one out, having been dragged up magically because he was trying to help his friend. Merlin, obviously, had not wanted the help. "Oh, Merlin, you fool!" Lancelot said as he regained his footing. Gwaine and Percival were right next to him on one side, and on the other side, standing proudly, was a rock structure one head taller than Percival. Water fizzled out of the top of the highest rock and ran along the cracks and walls until it found its way to a ring of water. Surrounding the structure was this ring of water, and it swirled and bubbled before continuing into a stream that wound itself past the clearing and into a dead forest. This was the fountain—the origin for the curse.

Instead of marveling at the fountain and the intricate druidic symbols and designs etched into it, Lancelot turned directly back to the crevice they had climbed out of, fully intending to jump right back in if Merlin failed to appear in the next few seconds. Lancelot stopped, staring at the ground he had come out of not two seconds ago. The opening was gone.

"Where did it go?!" Gwaine exclaimed, clearly caught by surprise just as much as Lancelot was. "It was right here! Did something happen? Suppose Merlin did that—could he do that?!" Gwaine looked extremely overwhelmed, and talking appeared to be his outlet (considering that drinking was out of the question). "Merlin? Did he get out?" Gwaine asked, and he shook his head while a weird smile spread across his face. "Because he has a lot of explaining to do."

Lancelot knelt and spread his hand on the solid ground that had once been an opening. "What happened?" he asked himself. "Merlin…" His hand retreated into a fist that dug into the ground. "Merlin's still down there, trapped," Lancelot said, turning his head so that his two companions could hear him.

Percival spoke up, "Couldn't he just…magic his way out? Or something of that sort?"

Lancelot shrugged and shook his head. "I do not know. I've never seen him move from one place to another at will." He stood up as Gwaine said loudly, "So we go back for him."

"How?" asked Lancelot, growing annoyed much quicker than he intended to. "The way is gone. It's blocked, or disappeared. Druids will be upon us soon if we stay here, and I doubt that they will allow us a second chance of escape."

"You're telling us to leave Merlin? Are you mad?" Gwaine nearly shouted.

Lancelot was the first to actually shout. "Merlin can handle his own!" He blinked, and snapped out of his anger. He shook his head, feeling a headache coming on. Percival stepped into the match. "I saw a wall of fire spring up inside the cavern, and then I blinked and the opening was gone," he directed his words to Gwaine, "Perhaps Merlin did close the gap so that we could get away."

Yes, that is what Lancelot had tried to say. He just couldn't word it correctly. He gripped his head with one hand. It hurt, but there was more to it. The hurt was making him not think straight, and his words to Gwaine had come off so inconsiderate…how could he ever think to leave Merlin? Lancelot stared at the ground. They must leave Merlin.

"…Lancelot? Lancelot, wake up!" Lancelot snapped out of it—again—and looked up to find Gwaine and Percival staring back at him. He wet his lips. "We have to go before the druids find us. We have no chance otherwise." Yes, that sounded right. Lancelot's hand passed over the area where the hilt of his sword would usually lie, wishing that he still had a weapon, even if it was the one he stole from that guard. He needed something to protect himself with. He needed protection from the druids. His eyes slowly shifted over to Gwaine and Percival, who were talking in heated tones. Lancelot's jaw set. He needed protection from them.

He watched cautiously as Gwaine walked up to the area that the opening had disappeared, and he brought his foot up, then stomped it on the ground with a huff. The ground didn't give. Gwaine stomped again. The third time he stomped, Percival mentioned, "The druids could be here any second, Gwaine." Gwaine made a frustrated noise in his throat, and half-heartedly stomped the ground once again. "Fine," his head was bowed. "We won't be doing Merlin any favors by getting caught, and I don't fancy the idea, either."

Lancelot walked forward and gripped both Percival and Gwaine's shoulders. "Let's depart, and let's do it quickly." He led them forward a few steps, turned, and almost walked right into the fountain. Percival's hand found his shoulder and pulled him back before he did so. The hand felt strange on Lancelot's shoulder, and he quickly twisted away from the taller knight's touch. "You…" Lancelot took an unsteady breath, "You shouldn't do that again." Percival's eyebrows went up, and he moved his head to look at the water behind Lancelot. "You already handled the water once today. We should not press our luck."

"Our luck has been pressed dry today. I'm not so sure there's any more to offer." Gwaine commented gruffly, heading for the trees. Lancelot and Percival followed him, the former casting weary looks at the other two knights. Gwaine looked back at Lancelot, and wagged his finger as he said, "Although he is right. Water. Bad. Don't forget." Gwaine turned back around and continued walking, having now reached the end of the clearing. He completely missed Lancelot's glare.

Although it had been deemed "bad" by Gwaine, the three followed the stream's course through the trees. "What I don't get," Gwaine said as he stepped over a crumbling root, "is when you said that you never saw Merlin hop from one place to another at will…which means that you have seen him use magic before, right? You knew?" Gwaine was looking back at Lancelot while saying all of this.

Lancelot raised his brow and looked up at Gwaine. "It was not my secret to tell. But yes, I knew. The circumstances were…understandable when I discovered his secret. I owed him my life" Lancelot was trying to suppress his headache. From the pain, it was clear that it did not want to be suppressed. "When did you find out?" asked Percival, who was walking alongside Lancelot. Lancelot answered, simultaneously clutching his forehead, "It…It would be…the griffin? Before any of us were…knighted…ah, this does not…" He stopped walking and hunched over, gritting his teeth. "This is not good."

Percival's voice sounded louder than it should have been. "Gwaine, stop for a moment. Come over here." He heard footsteps that were coming nearer…and yet they sounded so far away.

"What's wrong with Lancelot?" Gwaine's voice was distorted, as if they were underwater. Lancelot wasn't even sure if it was Gwaine. It sounded lower, more sinister. Oh, how he wished he had a sword. "Is he sick?" The voice was worried. Worried…fearful…Lancelot didn't want fear. Gwaine—or whoever was talking—continued to produce fear. It was so annoying…people feared what they could not understand...Merlin had said that once. They feared Merlin, they feared him, they were afraid of him becoming a knight because he wasn't noble born. He would prove them wrong. However, he would not prove them wrong by following their rules, oh no, no, no. Lancelot reached for his sword. A flame of anger burst inside of him. They had taken his sword! He had to escape. He couldn't handle this. The nerve of them—they couldn't do this to him.

Hands were grabbing him, trying to control him, break him. Lancelot would neither be controlled nor broken. He had proved himself. He was a knight. These others, Gwaine, not-Gwaine (was that Percival or a druid?), what had they done? They were disrespectful. They did not deserve any of this. The headache twisted Lancelot's mind, causing him to cry out. He had to escape the druids.

Lancelot reached out blindly, his movements being restrained by two pairs of strong hands. He stretched his own hand, searching and feeling for something—anything—to aid him. His hand brushed against a rock beside the stream, and he grabbed onto it. With a shout, he ripped away from his captors, and smacked one over the head with the rock. Lancelot's face met the ground a moment later, and he struggled wildly with the force that held him down. He finally landed an elbow to the monster's face, and he stumbled up, finally freed.

Lancelot's eyes went back to the clearing in the distance. The druids would be upon him. He had to protect himself. He looked down at the ground. Gwaine and Percival had fallen. The druids had already gotten them. Lancelot gripped his head with both hands.

Run.

He had to run.

As Lancelot trampled through the woods, Gwaine found his way to his knees. He touched his hand to his bleeding nose, cursing silently. He shook Percival, who looked rather rattled from the sudden outburst of aggression. Percival stared at him, much like an owl that had its feathers ruffled. Gwaine met his stare and raised his brow slightly, saying, "This may just be me, but Lancelot seems a bit off."

Percival gingerly felt his his head, wincing as he found the spot that the rock had hit. "Only a bit?"

Gwaine shrugged, "Well, in comparison to everything else so far, of course."

"Of course."

Lancelot was going steadily out of character on purpose, so I apologize if it all looked too abrupt or not Lancelot-y enough. Can't have him there to plead Merlin's case, can I?

So that ended on a high note, didn't it?...Didn't it? No? I'll admit, Arthur and Lancelot are having a pretty bad day. I, on the other hand, can have a great day, provided I receive reviews (blatantly obvious hint). Big thank-you's to everyone who has reviewed so far! I still have some Christmas cookies left, so those go out to you guys :) I appreciate your constructive criticism, thoughts, musings, well-wishes, and all that sort of stuff.

I really hate doing this, but I altered a tiny little thing in the first chapter. Originally I had the story open up with them having traveled for eight days, and that has been changed to four once I realized I wanted Elyan to go back to Camelot. I tried making it work with the original eight days, but that was far too long for our knights to endure Morgana's schemes.

I realize that it is no longer December anymore (although I actually did finish it in December, which begs that question as to why I didn't upload it yet. Short answer: procrastination. I'm somewhat ashamed of myself), but I am so thrilled that I have readers. I know that I have a long way to go as a writer, and I appreciate all of the feedback and support I get. I tell my friend all the time that I have the nicest reviewers :)

Expect more in February! I am debating whether to upload Merlin's chapter next, or stay with the knights' and Arthur's storyline for a bit. Any preference?