AN: Hello! Don't worry - I didn't abandon you again! This chapter is a little longer, but I just love stopping with semi-cliffhangers! It's so fun!

XxTheWhiteDragonxX: Thanks :) Here the mystery is answered... sort of. More to come! Thanks for reviewing!

I love you all!

Read on!

Gwaine stood for a moment, his eyes trying to pierce the blackness-ever-blacker just beyond the small, fire-lit clearing. The Princess was snoring behind him, and Merlin was sleeping quietly off to the side. Gwaine got the feeling that the warlock hardly ever slept soundly - and who could blame him? A secret like that, a trouble-magnet of a prince…

Gwaine found his hand on the hilt of his sword. He looked down, surprised. Had he really meant to reach for it? He roamed about the clearing with his senses, trying to notice any disturbance in the heavy night air. That was why he'd taken first watch, the shivers had been crawling around on his back, not quite letting him relax. He shook his long, obviously amazing hair out of his eyes and sat down, his back to the fire. There was probably nothing really wrong, just the idea of another dragon setting him on edge. It's not that he didn't believe in Merlin - even the idea of magic hadn't phased their friendship - but he knew well what had happened with the last dragon (that one he had been talking to just a few hours ago, how weird was that?!), and that had tainted his view of the beasts probably forever.

"Mmf. Guinevere…" Arthur mumbled, rolled over, and kick some dirt onto the fire. It sputtered momentarily, throwing the clearing into darkness, before coming back. Gwaine supposed it had some sort of magical everlasting spell. The warmth was quite comforting, and the shivers had momentarily paused. His eyes started to drift closed, his breathing was deepening…

The bushes behind him rustled.

He was up instantly, sword drawn, eyes keen. Zero to alert in no seconds flat - the skill of a knight.

Again - but this time the opposite side. The knight whirled.

Another, off to the left. Gwaine turned again, growing suspicious. Were they surrounded?

The knight tried to peer down the path, but it was too dark to see a few feet beyond, the fire throwing shadows rather than light.

"If you're a wyvern, I've got a very scary friend-" Gwaine turned at the sound of Merlin's loud snore, "-who is currently asleep. Oh, shit."

Well, he was a knight, wasn't he? He could handle a puny wyvern!

The rustle sounded down the path a little. It was followed by a scuffle and a snort, that could almost be a chuckle - a pig? - and now Gwaine was burning with curiosity. He picked up a large log that was sticking out of the fire, and held it aloft like a torch. Then, he slowly began creeping down the path, following the consecutive rustles ever farther. He failed to notice the chiming laughter.

Merlin awoke. He always slept lightly, and at the slightest disturbance would awaken him. This last day, though, had been so strenuous with all the magic usage - transporting three people this far was exhausting - and he had slept rather more soundly than usual. However, before he went to sleep, he made sure to set up protection spells, that would alert him if anyone (or anything) passed through it. The mental alarms were sounding in his head. He got up, and started to wander down the path, pinpointing where the disturbance had occurred.

I should probably secure Arthur. He thought, and turned around; muttering a spell that would freeze the prince in place, so neither he nor anybody else would be able to move him. Merlin nodded to his handiwork, and then proceeded down the path. A few meters down, he found a large log, still burning on one end. It was lying on the side of the path, with pink little flowers placed along it in a cute row. Merlin regarded it skeptically, but didn't touch it. Something about it didn't seem right - especially because Gwaine wouldn't have done this, collecting flowers, and he was the only other one here…

...right?

Arthur's eyes opened slowly. The prince tried to shift around in discomfort (A prince shouldn't have to lie on the ground, but an adventure is an adventure - and Arthur wouldn't miss it for all the pillows in the world!), but he found that he couldn't. It was as though he were a block of ice.

Greatly annoyed - that bloody warlock! what did he do?! - he focused on his hand.

Move. He commanded of it. His muscles strained.

"Hehehehehehe!" A shrill giggle trilled musically out of Arthur's peripheral vision. He tried to turn his head, which didn't work, of course.

There was a rustling, and another giggle came from the other side.

Small footsteps, and someone was blocking out the light of the fire. The figure bent down, and a small round face came into Arthur's view.

It was a small girl, smiling happily, hair yellow as flax. She held up a tiny pink flower, and placed it on the Prince's nose (which itched horribly).

"Prince-y!" She giggled, and sat down on the frozen Knight's stomach. "Hehehehehehe!"