Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"If I lose her, I lose everything," Arthur whispers. He feels like all the air has been sucked from his lungs. He feels like someone has punched him in the gut with a fist the size of a boulder. He feels like emptying the contents of his stomach onto the ground.

Betrayed. Again. By the person who can hurt him the most.

If Arthur Pendragon harbored any thoughts about possible goodness lingering within his half-sister, Morgana, they have all been quite effectively dashed.

"Arthur, we need to go before we are discovered," Merlin prompts, snapping him from his stupor.

Arthur ignores him, his expression closed off and eyes fixed on the two women. His hand slowly reaches for his sword.

"No," Merlin's hand on his arm stills him. "If you kill Morgana, you won't get Gwen back. Come."

Arthur follows Merlin, his feet stepping one after the other without thought, without purpose, two questions pounding in his head over and over.

How?

Why?

He knows the 'why'. He has a pretty good idea about the 'how' as well.

But, knowing these things doesn't make the situation any better. It doesn't erase the pain, which feels like a hundred swords piercing his heart.

His love, his wife, his Guinevere, made into a puppet by Morgana.

"How long have you known?" Arthur quietly asks once they are far enough away from the women.

"Since you were poisoned," Merlin answers.

Arthur stops walking. "That was over a week ago! Why didn't you say anything?"

Merlin levels him with a look. "Would you have believed me? On my word alone?"

Arthur opens his mouth to answer "yes," but a raised eyebrow from Merlin stops the word before it exits his mouth. He frowns. "And that attempt on my life during the Sarrum's visit?" he asks instead.

Merlin nods, confirming Gwen-not-Gwen was behind it. "Come on. We need to talk to Gaius."

Arthur falls into step beside Merlin.

"Every time I've been missing during the last few days…" Merlin starts.

"You've been following Guinevere," Arthur finishes.

"Yes. Learning her patterns. Finding out to where she's been sneaking off when she says she's going to visit a sick citizen or 'just be alone to think about Elyan'. I was watching her every move because I knew you needed proof."

"You're sure she never saw you?" Arthur asks, skeptical. Merlin nods. "Stealth has never been a strong suit of yours," he adds.

"You'd be surprised," Merlin answers. His voice comes out a little more foreboding than he intends, so as a distraction, he intentionally trips.

"Honestly," Arthur huffs.

They walk in silence the rest of the way to the castle.

"Merlin," Arthur says, just outside the doors, "thank you. I know this couldn't have been easy."

"You're welcome, Sire," Merlin says. He quickly ducks his head and goes inside. We'll see just how grateful he truly is.

xXx

"What can be done?" Arthur asks, walking with Merlin through the corridors. Merlin grabs his elbow and pulls him in the direction of Gaius' quarters instead of the royal chambers. "Oh... good idea," Arthur mutters. He does not know when Guinevere will return from her rendezvous and is in no frame of mind to see her.

"Gaius and I have been doing some research," Merlin says. He opens the door and Arthur steps inside.

"Ah," Gaius says, hearing them enter. He turns around and sees their grim faces. "So, it is true," he sighs.

Arthur sinks into a chair, covering his face with his hands, exhausted and heartsick. Merlin pours some water into a mug and places it on the table beside Arthur.

A couple of silent, tense minutes later, Arthur lifts his head. "How do we bring her back?" he asks, his voice uncharacteristically weak. "Merlin said you've been doing some research?" He looks hopefully at Gaius.

Gaius purses his lips and exchanges a meaningful look with Merlin. Then, he walks over and sits in the chair situated in front of Arthur. He sighs heavily. "Sire, as you know, Morgana is a High Priestess of the Old Religion," Gaius starts. "And, as such, she is one of only two remaining people who are truly well-versed in the Old Ways. When I was younger, I learned of a... a horrible spell called the Teina Diaga. It was taught only to female practitioners, so my knowledge of it is limited."

"Please. Tell me what you know," Arthur says. He finally reaches over and takes a drink of the water Merlin has poured for him. He glances up and sees his servant hovering in the background, thoughtfully frowning.

"It was an ancient ritual involving the use of mandrake roots to torture the victim's mind until there was almost nothing left. When it was over, the victim's will was not his own. Or, in this case, her own. Guinevere's body has become a nearly-empty vessel, filled with Morgana's will."

Arthur pales and hangs his head, sick with the thought of the torture his beloved wife had endured at the hands of his sister. They were friends once. How could she do this? "Do you know how to reverse this?" he asks, not looking up. His tone is bleak.

Gaius says nothing for a long minute. "I do not."

The three men sit in silence, hopelessness hanging heavily in the air. Without warning, Arthur slams his fist on the tabletop, causing some water to leap out of his mug.

"What if I told you I can help Gwen?" Merlin says. His voice is low, but it rings out in the quiet room.

Gaius suddenly turns and looks at Merlin, shocked. "Merlin, no..."

"This is no time for jokes, Merlin," Arthur snaps.

"I'm not joking."

"What are you talking about then?" Arthur asks.

"Merlin..." Gaius pleads, standing and crossing to him. "This is the worst possible time," he whispers.

"I know. But, you know as well as I do I'm the only one who can do this... I just have to figure out how," Merlin says. He steps around Gaius and moves to sit in front of Arthur.

"Merlin, what nonsense are you talking about? You can help Guinevere?"

"Yes, Arthur, I think I can. I have to find out exactly how, but... I may be the only person who can help her."

Arthur's brow knits in confusion. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"I know this is an awful time to tell you, but... I no longer have a choice. I can help Gwen. I can bring her back. I'm the only one who can..."

"Merlin!" Arthur yells, frustrated. "Get to the point!"

"I'm a sorcerer, all right?" Merlin yells back. It is deathly silent for a few seconds. Then, he continues in a softer tone, looking at his feet. "I have magic, Arthur. I was born with it." Merlin takes a deep breath. "And, I've been using it for years, always to help you."

Gaius walks over. Merlin is still looking down. Gaius hears him quietly sniffle and sees his hand come up to swipe his face. Arthur's face is a mask of disbelief and confusion, his eyes flicking between Merlin and Gaius.

"Sire, what Merlin says is—"

"You knew," Arthur says incredulously, looking at Gaius.

"Yes, Sire. I am sorry, but... I made a promise to his mother, and..."

"So, both of you have been lying to me for close to ten years now." Arthur's voice wavers slightly as he struggles to absorb the second bomb dropped on him tonight.

"What would you have us do, Arthur?" Merlin asks, looking up. "Magic is against the laws of this land. So, you can throw me in the dungeons if you wish, execute me if you must, but I'll be of no help to you if you do," Merlin's voice is steady, but his face is pained and Gaius fully realizes exactly how heavy this years-long burden has been for Merlin to bear.

Arthur finally looks at him and Merlin almost wishes he hadn't. "Show me," he says, his voice cold, emotionless.

"Sh-show you?"

Arthur leans back in his chair, his face distant, almost arrogant. "Yes. If you're a sorcerer, which I'm only choosing to consider because I know you wouldn't joke about something this serious involving my wife, I still want proof. Show me something."

Merlin looks at Gaius, who simply shrugs. Then, he looks around and sees the spilled water on the table. He fixes the small puddle in his gaze, his eyes flash, and the water rises from the table. It is a transparent orb shimmering in the candlelight, hovering in the air. Then, the liquid pours back into the mug, delicately trickling in like an inverted teardrop.

Arthur stares at the mug. Then, he looks at Merlin. His face is like stone, but his eyes are filled with pain. Merlin swallows, waiting for the explosion. The last time I saw Arthur this upset was when he banished Gwen.

"Arthur," he calmly says, "I'm still the same person I've always b—"

Arthur leaps out of his chair with a roar and flips the table over on its side. Pots and vials crash to the floor and his mug flies in a trajectory across the room. Water, herbs and the gods only know what else are everywhere. Merlin jumps to his feet and Gaius steps back, eyes wide with surprise and concern.

"Don't!" he yells. "Just— don't." Arthur holds his hand up. "Don't you dare tell me you're the same person! I don't... I can't... Lies, Merlin! All around me, all the time! Morgana, Agravaine, my father, Guinevere... now, you? You, Merlin? And you, Gaius?" He turns his gaze to Gaius, who simply drops his head. He knows there is nothing he can say in his defense that hasn't already been stated.

Arthur picks up the chair in which he was sitting and throws it hard on the ground. It splinters into several pieces.

A knock sounds at the door. Gaius rushes to answer, only opening the door as much as necessary.

"Is all well, Gaius? I heard a crash. And just now, another," Sir Percival asks, trying to peek through the opening.

"Yes, yes, just a little accident, Percival, thank you for your concern. No one is injured. All is well," Gaius answers.

"Are you certain? Shall I send someone to assist you in cleaning up?" the knight asks.

"No, no, it's fine. Merlin's here," Gaius says.

"Ah. Very well. Good evening, then."

"Good night," Gaius says.

As he closes the door, he clearly hears Percival muttering to himself, "Strange night..."

When Gaius turns around, he sees Arthur and Merlin have not moved, still standing about ten feet apart, facing each other. Arthur is red-faced and trembling, regarding Merlin with the wary anger of a cornered predator. Merlin is breathing hard, but stands his ground, holding Arthur's murderous gaze.

"All..." Arthur's glare intensifies, and Merlin briefly falters, then soldiers on. "All I want is to bring her back to you. Restore her to herself. I love Gwen like a sister, you know that, and it's killing me almost as much as it's killing you to know she's under Morgana's control," Merlin says. His heart is pounding, but he knows he must stand his ground or Gwen is lost to them forever. And, he cannot allow that to happen to Arthur, or to Gwen. Not when he can do something to make it right again.

"You have no idea how I feel," Arthur growls. He isn't yelling anymore, but his voice is low and tremulous, as though he's just barely hanging on to his self-control.

"I know exactly how you feel and you know it," Merlin snaps, taking a step forward. "I may be your servant, but I'm also the closest thing you have to a friend, a brother, even. At least, I was up to about five minutes ago," he sighs. "Gwen is your compass, Arthur, and now that you know she's not herself, you feel lost. Adrift in a sea of pain with no one to show you the way. You also feel like you've been stabbed in the heart."

For a moment, Arthur says nothing, not acknowledging Merlin is precisely correct. "You are not my brother," he spits. "My brother would not betray me this way. My brother would not stomp on my heart after it's just been torn from my chest," he growls, gathering a head of steam. He starts moving forward. "My brother would not have spent the last ten years of his life constantly lying to me!" he roars, hurtling towards Merlin.

"Damn it, Arthur, throw me in the dungeon if you must, but let me do what I must to bring Guinevere back to you!" Merlin sharply says, holding his ground. He doesn't budge. Does not even flinch as the king charges at him.

Arthur stops abruptly, almost physically struck by Merlin's words. Guinevere. This is about Guinevere. His face is still tight with anger, only now, a tear slips out and rolls down his cheek. He furiously swipes it away.

"Arthur," Merlin continues, "I know how angry you are. But, think of Gwen. Your Guinevere. You can't lose her, not again."

Gaius' eyes widen in surprise at Merlin's audacity. The queen's banishment is the one topic that is never discussed. Ever.

"You are already on extremely thin ice, Merlin..." Arthur warns.

"So, kill me then," Merlin says, stepping even closer to Arthur. "Kill me and you won't get your wife back. When you lost her last time, it nearly broke you. No one knows that more than me. You can deny it all you want, but you know perfectly well that I'm right. You need Guinevere. We all do. Like we said when we went to rescue her: she's our queen, our friend, our sister." A few tears slip from Merlin's eyes now and he allows them to fall unchecked. He doesn't care. "Until we lift this curse, you need me, too."

"Don't you dare ask me to trust you, Merlin. Not now," Arthur says. "You know how much pain the use of magic has caused in my life. How many lives it has taken from me."

"I do know, Arthur, and I hate to say this, but you don't really have a choice. You're going to lose Gwen because of magic as well if you don't let me use my magic to save her. Sorcery must be fought with sorcery. I am the only person strong enough to bring her back to you who is also willing to help you."

Arthur ponders his words, conflicted. Merlin's right. I'll be breaking my own laws, but without Guinevere...His skepticism returning, Arthur asks, "You're that powerful? You?"

"Arthur," Gaius quietly says, stepping over, "you know my history. I'm an old man and have experienced many things. Believe me when I say Merlin is, without question, the most powerful sorcerer I have ever seen."

Arthur stares at Merlin a moment, then looks at Gaius. "More powerful than Morgana?"

"I believe so," Gaius says. "Merlin doesn't always believe in his own abilities, but... the things I have seen him accomplish, Sire..."

Arthur holds his hands up, walking away from them. "Enough. Enough... I can't... I can't take any more... secrets tonight."

Gaius can see Merlin is getting as frustrated with Arthur as Arthur is with him and decides to try a different approach. "Know this, my lord: if not for Merlin, you would have been killed many times by now," Gaius says.

"I've only ever used my magic to help you, Arthur. To protect you. Every time I've said I was protecting you or would protect you, you always laughed it off, but... you have no idea how true those words really were." Merlin walks over to Arthur, standing behind him. "This is my destiny, just as it is your destiny to be a great king. I didn't choose this path any more than you chose yours. I have devoted my life to your service, Arthur. That includes protecting those you love. Like Guinevere."

Arthur turns around and looks at Merlin. Most of the anger has melted, but the hurt is still very much present. He sighs heavily, as though the weight of the world is on his shoulders. I cannot process all of this right now. Guinevere. We need tohelp Guinevere. "What do we need to do?" he asks, his face grim.

Merlin looks at Gaius, then back at Arthur. "I don't know... yet."

Arthur makes an exasperated sound, throws his hands up, and stalks away.

"But, he can find out," Gaius chimes in. "As I said, Morgana is one of two women well-versed in the old ways. Merlin knows where the other can be found."

Merlin looks up. "I do?"

"You do. And she will not be pleased to see you, I'm afraid."

"Who?" asks Arthur, turning around. "Who is this sorceress?"

Merlin sighs. "The Dochraid. She's a... Gaius, what is she?"

"She is a powerful witch and supporter of the return of the Old Ways. She will not give her help willingly."

"Of course," Arthur says, slumping into the unbroken chair.

"I'll do what I have to in order to save Gwen, Arthur," Merlin says. "I do not fear the Dochraid. I will leave at first light and not return until I know how to break the spell holding Gwen captive."

Arthur contemplates Merlin another moment, then stands, walking to the door. He pauses and turns. "So we're clear: I'm doing this for Guinevere. The topic of your deceit – and yours," he says, raising an eyebrow at Gaius, "will be addressed. After my wife is safely returned to herself."

"Understood," Merlin says and Gaius nods.

Arthur strides to the door, then turns back. "Merlin."

"Yes, my lord?"

"If you fail, it's your head."

"Yes, my lord."

xXx

Arthur takes the longest route possible back to the royal chambers, heartsick and reeling from all that he has learned tonight.

He mindlessly walks until he faces a dead end, not realizing his feet have carried him there. He turns and continues walking, no longer with a destination, but avoiding everyone, turning down empty corridors whenever he hears footsteps.

When he finally reaches his rooms, he quietly slips inside, praying Guinevere is already in bed. He doesn't much care if she's actually sleeping or feigning sleep, so long as he doesn't have to face her. He's so distressed right now he wouldn't be able to keep it from her. Even enchanted, she can still read me like a book.

The room is silent apart from the soft crackle of dying embers in the fireplace. He sees Guinevere's still shape in bed and softly exhales, relieved. He slides his feet out of his boots and quietly changes into his sleepwear.

I won't rest much. How can I sleep beside someone who wants me dead? She could smother me with a pillow while I sleep.

He pauses at the bedside, gazing down at her, his chest tight. His heart feels like it is knotted together with his stomach. She looks so innocent, so perfect. I cannot believe... no, remember it's not truly her. Morgana is ruling her mind. He thumbs away another errant tear and slips into bed as gently as he can, trying not to jostle her.

"Arthur?" her soft voice interrupts his thoughts. "Where were you?" She sounds like she has just woken, but Arthur now knows she is an excellent actress. He has no way of knowing if she was actually asleep or not.

"There was a matter with a prisoner that needed attention," Arthur lies. "Nothing with which you need to be concerned." He tries to keep his voice gentle, to not give away the deep hurt he is feeling.

"At this hour?"

"Unfortunately, I don't get to stop being king because the sun goes down," he answers.

Guinevere rolls over and cuddles against his side, resting her head on his shoulder. Arthur tries not to stiffen, willing his body to be relaxed, as if his wife isn't the soulless puppet of his evil half-sister. After a moment's hesitation, he even wraps his arm around her small shoulders, like he always does.

"All right," she mumbles sleepily. "Love you," she says.

Her words cut him deeper than any blade, but he answers, "I love you, too, Guinevere."

Guinevere's words may be false right now, but Arthur's are as true as ever.

Arthur spends the rest of the night pondering the canopy over their bed, wide awake, one thought playing over and over in his head.

I need her back. Whatever the cost.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Arthur watches Merlin ride off through the courtyard. Merlin had shrewdly sent George in his stead to serve Arthur this morning, which only made Arthur more cross. He didn't really want to see Merlin, but the knowledge that Merlin was mindful of this fact only fueled his anger.

When Guinevere asked after Merlin's whereabouts, George simply replied, "Gaius has informed me that Merlin is ill this morning, my lady. Would you care for more fruit?"

All Arthur could think was There goes Gaius, lying for Merlin again.

Arthur had been awake all night, uneasy, while Guinevere slept peacefully on his shoulder, her arm slung across his stomach, her leg hooked over one of his. As she often does. This morning, he is tired, cranky, and anxious. Also, he isn't disguising it very well.

"Arthur, you look exhausted. Are you taking ill as well? Perhaps you have been affected by whatever has Merlin under the weather. The two of you are together so often, it would make sense," Guinevere said after breakfast, walking around the table to where Arthur is sitting and brooding over his breakfast. She crouches beside his chair and takes his hand.

"Perhaps," Arthur answers noncommittally, forcing himself not to recoil from her touch. Jumpy. Not good. "There are some matters to which I must attend this morning," he says, standing.

"Are you sure that's wise? If you aren't well, maybe you should stay here and rest," she suggests and for the first time, Arthur notices the slight difference in his wife's demeanor. She's more abrupt. Her innate gentility suddenly seems forced. It breaks his heart.

"I'm all right," he says, a wave of pity washing over him. She's in there somewhere. I know she is. Gaius said she was only mostly gone. He steps over and wraps his arms around his wife. She startles momentarily, then relaxes into his arms. "I love you so much, Guinevere," he says, resting his cheek against her head.

"Arthur?" she asks, wondering what prompted this behavior.

He loosens his hold on her, kisses her forehead (he cannot bring himself to kiss her lips), and heads out the door.

Arthur walks through the castle, lost in an internal debate. He knows what he needs to do. He knows to whom he needs to speak. But, he cannot make his feet carry him there just yet.

Instead, he finds Sir Leon and pulls him into a secluded room.

"Sire, is something wrong?" Leon asks, looking puzzled. "I was just about to—"

"Yes, Leon, there is something very wrong," Arthur says. "But, I don't have time to explain right now. I need you to change the route for the planned levy collection. Change it completely. Do not travel any of the currently planned roads. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my lord, but surely that will lengthen the trip..."

"I don't care. Make only one map and keep it on your person at all times. Tell no one until the party departs and then, only tell Sir Bors," Arthur says.

"Sir Bors? But, I—" Leon asks, growing more confused.

"Once Bors has the route committed to memory, burn the map," Arthur continues, cutting him off. He sighs. "I need you to remain here instead, sorry. I... Guinevere and I may not be available during the next few days and I'll need you to handle things here while we are... busy," Arthur explains. "I... I am not yet sure of all the details which is why I'm being intentionally vague. I will tell you more when I know more."

"Yes, Sire. Of course," Leon nods. He follows Arthur to the door.

"Leon," Arthur says, stopping, "we have seen much together, you and I."

"Yes," Leon agrees.

"I want you to know how much I value your loyalty over the years. I have so few people I can trust and even fewer I can call 'friend'."

Leon smiles, touched though a little puzzled. "Um, thank you, my lord. You know you can always count on me."

"I realize that. But, I wasn't sure if you knew how much I appreciate it." Arthur nods at him once, turns to leave, then pauses once again. "One more thing. This is very important and very sensitive."

"My lord?" Leon asks.

Arthur swallows hard, conflict clear on his face. "Have the queen followed. She is not to know under any circumstance. Appoint one person to keep her in his sights at all times. Hopefully, just for today."

"But…?"

"I promise I will explain later," Arthur says.

"Is she in danger?" Leon asks.

"Yes," Arthur answers, his face deadly serious. "From herself."

Leon looks as shocked as Arthur has ever seen him. "Do… do you have a recommendation for whom to assign this task?"

Arthur pauses a moment. Percival is too large. Gwaine is too noisy. Elyan would have been perfect, but… "Mordred. He's small and too new to arouse much suspicion. Impress upon him the delicacy of the situation any way you can. He can not be seen. I daresay his own life would be at risk if she even suspects he is tailing her."

"Yes, my lord," Leon says.

Arthur sweeps from the room. Leon follows a moment later, confused but resolute. He doesn't know exactly what is going on, but is well aware that Gwen is in some kind of danger. This will not stand.

Those details dealt with, Arthur takes a deep breath and continues to Gaius' chambers. He is still angry with Gaius for lying to him, but the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes he cannot really blame the old physician for his actions. He's Merlin's guardian. Of course he's going to protect him even if he hadn't promised Merlin's mother. He's the only father figure Merlin has had as far as I know. Who among us hasn't told at least one lie to protect a loved one?

He knocks on Gaius' door, then opens it unbidden.

"Sire," Gaius greets hesitantly. "I... I must say I am surprised to see you this morning."

Arthur looks around the physician's quarters. The chair he smashed is restored. The table set to rights and all the items that crashed to the floor, scattered or broken or both, are back in their places, whole and perfect.

"It... it is a handy talent our Merlin has," Gaius carefully says.

"So I see," Arthur answers grimly. He sits in the chair. "It is true then. I didn't dream everything that happened last night."

"I'm afraid not, Arthur," Gaius answers. He walks over and sits across from the young king. "For what it's worth, it was never my intention to deceive you and I am sorry."

"Thank you," Arthur says. "I do understand why you kept his secret. I did a lot of thinking last night."

Gaius raises an eyebrow. "I daresay that is because you did not do a lot of sleeping last night," he assesses.

"I didn't sleep at all," Arthur sighs. "How can I sleep when the woman who shares my bed wants me dead?"

"Indeed, my lord," Gaius nods, frowning.

"And there's also the matter of Merlin." Arthur leans back in his chair. "I... I do not know what to do, Gaius. Usually, when I am struggling, Guinevere gives me counsel. Or Merlin."

Gaius nods again. He takes no offense at being Arthur's third choice. "Arthur, everything Merlin told you last night is completely true. He is still the same good-hearted, slightly clumsy person we know and love. You cannot know how he has struggled with this secret. How difficult it has been for him to keep it hidden, especially from you. Arthur, Merlin didn't even tell me when he first arrived. I found out quite by accident."

Arthur's eyebrows rise, surprised. "Truly?"

Gaius nods. "Sire, he saved my life. It was the first thing Merlin did when he walked through those doors. If he hadn't used his magic to catch me, I would have fallen to my death from there." He points to the balcony area of his quarters.

Arthur looks where Gaius is pointing and knows such a fall could be fatal, particularly to someone Gaius' age.

Gaius continues. "To be perfectly honest, Arthur, often when a person discovers Merlin's secret, it is usually the last thing they learn. Not in my case, obviously, but…"

"Are you saying that Merlin... kills people if they learn he has magic?"

"No, no, not at all... I am saying that many of the people who have learned Merlin has magic are people who are trying to kill you or otherwise do you harm."

"And Merlin... he said he uses his magic to protect me..." Arthur drops his head into his hands, reeling again.

"If you knew all he did for you, Arthur..." Gaius sighs. "Camelot would have been lost years ago if not for him. The witch Nimueh. Morgause. Agravaine."

"The Great Dragon," Arthur adds, remembering.

Gaius says nothing, not meeting Arthur's eyes.

"What?"

"You'll have to ask Merlin about that one," Gaius says.

"The dragon lives then," Arthur says, narrowing his eyes.

"Yes. Again, Merlin must explain that to you." Gaius looks towards the windows for a moment, clearly pondering something. "Speaking of Morgause, Merlin told me what she revealed to you in the ruined castle."

"You mean the lies? The false image of my mother?" Arthur says, his heart aching at the memory of how he had allowed Morgause to deceive him. How she had preyed on his vulnerability and exploited his mother's memory.

"Arthur," Gaius starts softly, "what Morgause revealed to you that day was not a lie. You truly saw your mother."

"No..." Arthur gasps. He recovers quickly. "Why would you tell me this now, Gaius? Have I not been dealt enough blows already?" he demands, his anger rising again.

"Forgive me, my lord, but I am trying to help you understand," Gaius answers, his voice stern but soft. "Merlin only told you Morgause lied to stop you from falling into her trap. She planned to use you to kill Uther and almost succeeded."

"So... I was born of magic? My father used magic to help Mother conceive?" Arthur asks. He realizes that each revelation becomes easier to bear as he becomes more accustomed to the... oddity of everything.

"Yes, Arthur. Remember, not all magic is bad. Yes, your father was deceived by the witch Nimueh, but he truly did not know your mother's life would be the one taken in exchange."

"It is still a life, Gaius," Arthur answers.

"Ah, and that is what separates you from Uther. You are able to make that distinction. You understand every life has value. But, I stray from my point. Slightly. You are a good man, Arthur. One of the best I have known and I have known many. I have had the honor of watching you grow from the first moment you drew breath. You were born of magic, Arthur, and no magic that creates a man such as yourself can be evil."

Arthur says nothing, touched and humbled by Gaius' words. His vision blurs with tears and he wipes his eyes.

Gaius continues. "Morgause's intentions were villainous, but what you learned from your mother that night is true. Without magic, Arthur, you would not have been born. Magic is not evil. It is a tool no more evil than a hammer or a saw. A hammer or a saw can also be used as a weapon if wielded by someone with malicious intent, yet those things are not outlawed. Only people can be evil, Arthur. The Great Purge and your father's banishment of magic from the land was brought on by his own guilt and hubris."

Arthur slowly nods, fully understanding the truth of Gaius' words. He's heard them before, but somehow they have never sunk in like they have now.

"Merlin wields his magic the way you wield your sword, Arthur. To protect. Never to harm. I have seen you hold your blade to the throat of many to whom you have ultimately showed mercy."

Arthur looks at Gaius. "What you say makes sense. I'm… beginning to understand. This doesn't mean I've forgiven Merlin… I have too many questions for him first. The dragon being one of them, but… Gaius, does Morgana know?"

Gaius shakes his head. "Merlin has managed to stop Morgana several times, but she does not yet know his secret. She knows of the existence of a great sorcerer and fears him above all else."

Arthur looks relieved at first, then his eyes widen in disbelief. "Merlin?"

Gaius nods. "As I said, he is the most powerful sorcerer I have ever seen. Perhaps the most powerful sorcerer who ever lived."

Arthur says nothing, staring at the items on the table once again.

"Merlin is your friend, Arthur. Always remember that. He is your servant, yes, your destiny is entwined with his, yes, but above all, never forget he is your friend," Gaius solemnly says.

"Sometimes, it is… difficult to remember that," Arthur says. He slumps in his chair, exhausted. He's gone without sleep in the past, but never under so much mental and emotional strain. "When will Merlin be back?"

Gaius blinks in surprise. "I have no way of knowing, my lord. It is at least an hour's journey to the Dochraid's lair."

Arthur looks at the door to Merlin's modest room. "I need to sleep. Someplace… safe." He stands and makes his way to Merlin's door.

"You're going to sleep in Merlin's room?" Gaius asks.

"Well, it's the last place anyone would look for me, isn't it?" Arthur asks, his hand on the door handle.

"True." He pauses. "Sire, what of Gwen?"

"She's being watched. I spoke with Leon. I didn't tell him very much, but he's changing the route right now so the map Guinevere gave to Morgana will be of no use."

Gaius nods. "Get some rest, Arthur."

"Thank you," Arthur says. "And Gaius…"

"If anyone comes looking for you, I do not know where you are," Gaius says. He arches an eyebrow. "I can lie to protect more people than Merlin, you know."

Arthur's lips twitch, almost smiling. Then, he disappears into Merlin's room, closing the door firmly behind him.

xXx

Merlin returns shortly after noon, tired and starving. He stomps into Gaius' rooms, drops Arthur's sword on the table, dumps his bag on the floor, and collapses heavily into a chair, causing it to skid noisily. Then, he groans.

"Can you be a little louder, please, Merlin? I don't believe they heard you in Caerleon," Gaius says, glancing at the door to Merlin's room, wondering if the sorcerer's noisy return has roused the king.

"Sorry, Gaius," Merlin says. "Is there any food? I didn't get any breakfast and that apple I ate on the way is long gone."

"Um, yes..." Gaius says, reaching for a plate covered with a cloth. As he passes it to Merlin, the door to Merlin's room opens and Arthur emerges.

"Figured it had to be you," he says, only glancing at Merlin. He expects his anger to rise again, but only feels the dull ache of hurt. Between his talk with Gaius and a very restful nap, Arthur is feeling more resolute, able to focus on saving Guinevere. Able to push aside dealing with The Merlin Issue until after.

"The king didn't sleep at all last night," Gaius explains to a surprised and puzzled Merlin. "He knew no one would think to look for him there."

"Oh," Merlin says, his mouth full. He's hunched over his plate, deliberately not looking at Arthur.

"Did you get some rest, Sire?" Gaius asks.

"Yes, though my own bed would have been preferable. Bigger. Not as lumpy. On the other hand, no one wants me dead in there," he nods his head back towards Merlin's room. Arthur notices his sword, his special sword lying on the table. "What is my sword doing here?"

"I had to borrow it," Merlin says, still looking at his plate.

"Dare I ask?" Arthur crosses his arms in front of his chest.

"Insurance," Merlin answers. Finally, he looks at Arthur. "The Dochraid is dangerous. I needed a weapon that could actually harm her if she did not cooperate."

"Bloody hell, don't tell me my sword is magic..." Arthur exclaims, throwing his arms up and stomping over to the bookshelves along the wall.

"Little bit," Merlin says. "I'll explain later."

Arthur sighs heavily. Later. He turns just slightly, looking over his shoulder. "You have quite a bit to explain later, Merlin."

"I know."

"Did you get an answer?" Gaius asks. "Can we restore Gwen to herself?"

At this, Arthur walks back over near Merlin, sitting on a stool and leaving the other chair for Gaius. The old man sits, nodding gratefully at Arthur.

Merlin looks back and forth between Arthur and Gaius, wondering what transpired between them while he was gone. "I said I would not return without the answer," Merlin says a bit defensively. He takes a drink and pushes away from the table.

He relays some details of his visit, leaving out the use of his old man disguise. I'm going to have to tell Arthur about that, too, he realizes. "She knew exactly who I was and why I was there," he says. "And she did not give her aid willingly."

"How do you know what she told you is true?" Arthur asks.

Merlin looks meaningfully at the sword, then at Arthur. "I can be very persuasive."

"What do we need to do?" Arthur presses.

"We have to take Gwen to the Cauldron of Arianrhod. There, I must summon the White Goddess who will cleanse her of the enchantment."

"Okay. Let's go. We'll take Guinevere to this... cauldron, you do your..." Arthur waves his hand vaguely, "and we'll get my wife back."

"It's not as simple as that, surely," Gaius says.

"Of course, it isn't," Merlin agrees. "Gwen has to enter the water of her own free will. We cannot trick or force her into the lake. We have to reach the part of her that remains true." He looks directly at Arthur for the first time. "You have to reach her, Arthur. I don't have the... the connection to her that you do."

"No, you don't," Arthur says definitively. "So we're clear: I'm choosing to trust you on this only because I have no other alternative. If you think for one moment that I am not going to be completely involved, that I am going to leave you alone with Guinevere while you do whatever it is you're planning on doing..."

"I don't want to be left alone with Gwen, Arthur," Merlin interjects. "I think she knows I'm on to her. As it now stands, she likely wants me dead as much as she wants you dead."

"Thank you for reminding me," Arthur says darkly.

"Merlin's right, Arthur. The deep and binding love connecting you to Gwen is going to be the thing that saves her. You have to speak to that part, push through the walls Morgana has erected, and reach your wife."

I hope I can. I pray she isn't so far gone that I cannot reach her. But, I must. If I want her back, I must. Arthur slowly nods, understanding. "We leave at nightfall," he says.

"Arthur," Merlin asks, "um, how are we going to get Gwen to come with us? We can't just feed her a story. She's much too smart for that."

"What if she doesn't know?" Gaius suggests. "Merlin, you could just... put her to sleep, then wake her when you arrive."

"I don't want her harmed," Arthur says.

"I wouldn't harm her for the world, even if my life wasn't at stake," Merlin says, a bit offended. "A sleeping spell wouldn't hurt her at all."

"Are you absolutely sure?" Arthur asks.

"Done it plenty of times," Merlin says. "Never on you though... I don't think."

"Hmm."

"Sire, why don't you suggest going for a ride at sunset with Gwen? Merlin can meet you in the forest, put Gwen to sleep, then the three of you can continue on to the cauldron," Gaius proposes.

"I can have all the supplies with me," Merlin adds, nodding. "And then, we wouldn't have to worry about an extra horse, since Gwen won't be able to ride alone once she's asleep."

Arthur stares down at his hands, twisting his mother's ring around and around on his finger. "I can't think of a better option. I hate deceiving her, but... you are correct. She won't come willingly. Also, I've been avoiding her all day, so suggesting we take a ride will not seem odd."

"It's settled then," Gaius sighs.

Merlin and Arthur nod, their faces grim.

"Make preparations. I need to find Leon," Arthur says, standing.

"Leon?"

"Guinevere and I just can't leave Camelot without telling anyone, now can we?" Arthur asks.

xXx

"How is Mordred doing?" Arthur asks. He's meeting with Leon in the armory. Training has just ended and Percival, always the last to finish his post-training routine, has just left.

"Honestly, Sire, he's a little bored and very confused. The queen seems to be keeping to herself more than usual. That's all he's said," Leon says. "He was quite put out when I told him he could not attend training this afternoon."

"He'll get over it. This is much more important."

"Arthur?" Leon asks, hoping he'll get some real answers now.

Arthur looks around, confirming they are alone. He walks to the door and checks outside to ensure no one is lingering. "Guinevere has been enchanted," he quietly says once he returns.

"What?" Leon gasps. "Did Morgana... when she was held captive?"

Arthur nods. "She's under Morgana's control. A puppet. Guinevere, the real Guinevere, doesn't know what she's doing. The poisoning..." he trails off for a moment, suddenly wondering if it was actually Merlin's magic that healed him. "Sorry. The poisoning, the mess with the Sarrum... it was all her, acting under Morgana's power."

Leon is pale, a look of shocked disbelief on his face. "You're certain?"

"I saw it with my own eyes. Merlin discovered it first. He took me to the forest last night and we observed a meeting between Guinevere and Morgana."

"I am so sorry, my lord," Leon says. No matter how upset I am about this, it is nothing to how he must be feeling. "I... I cannot even imagine how much this is hurting you."

"It is not a feeling I would wish on anyone," Arthur says. "Except, perhaps, Morgana," he adds darkly. "But, this is why Mordred must keep to his assignment until I relieve him."

"I understand," Leon says. "Sire," he says, clearing his throat, in an attempt to disguise his concern, "can the queen be saved? Can she be brought back to herself?"

"That is why I'm telling you this," Arthur says. "We need to leave for a few days. Merlin, Guinevere, and I. I need you to handle things here while we're gone."

"Which is why I am no longer going on the levy collection," Leon concludes.

"Yes. This is also why I had you change the route. Guinevere gave a copy of the original map to Morgana last night. I think she is planning an ambush."

Leon nods. "I see. It makes perfect sense."

"We will return as soon as we can. If anyone asks, tell them we have taken a short journey to help Guinevere relax and continue to recover from her ordeal in the tower. It's not terribly far from the truth which is I'm essentially kidnapping my wife to take her to a place where her enchantment can be lifted."

Leon's brow furrows and Arthur realizes he is not going to give away Merlin's secret. The thought troubles him a little. He resolves it by deciding it's because he doesn't want to look like a hypocrite. But, deep down, Arthur knows he doesn't feel right telling a secret that is not his to reveal.

"It's best if you do not know the details," Arthur adds.

"Of course, my lord."

"Leon. Tell no one what has happened. No one. Not Percival, not Gwaine, not Mordred, though he will have questions. I will talk to him myself after we return."

Leon nods.

"Keep Mordred close though. I want him to learn," Arthur adds.

"Yes, my lord. When are you leaving?"

"Sunset. As far as Guinevere knows, we are going on a romantic ride in the forest," Arthur says, frowning sadly. "I wish that were the real reason."

"I understand, Arthur," Leon says, placing a hand on his king's shoulder. "She is very special to all of us."

Arthur nods. "I know you kind of grew up together, Leon, and that's one of the reasons why I am entrusting you with this information. You've known her, well, longer than I have, if I am honest, and she does consider you a friend. When she's herself."

"She will be again," Leon says. "It will work out. You'll bring her back to us. I am sure of it."

Arthur smiles. "Thank you for your confidence."

"I have never known you to fail in any of your quests, my lord. You will not fail in this one."

Chapter Text

"This is a lovely idea, Arthur, I'm glad I let you convince me," Guinevere says, giving Arthur a teasing smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.

This time, Arthur notices. "You let me convince you?" he asks, smiling in return as best he can. This is so difficult. Thankfully, the rendezvous point is just ahead.

Guinevere hadn't immediately agreed to the after-dinner ride, citing various excuses from weather to safety. Arthur had to point out there wasn't a cloud in the sky, promise they wouldn't venture too far into the forest, and remind her they hadn't seen one another all day before she finally acquiesced.

It was some of the best acting Arthur had ever done. It was also one of the most difficult things he had ever done.

Guinevere maintains her false smile and their eyes meet for a moment. Arthur pushes back the cold feeling in the pit of his stomach, the feeling of being someone's prey, and reminds himself that his wife is actually suffering at the hands of Morgana. He must remember that Guinevere is the prey of his demented half-sister as much as he is. He reaches his hand across to her, slowing his horse to a gradual stop.

"I love you," he says, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. The dread goes away, replaced by a wave of love for his wife, his true Guinevere, hidden somewhere far inside. The deep and binding love connecting you to Gwen is going to be the thing that saves her. "There is nothing I would not do for you, Guinevere," he adds, leaning over slightly to kiss her gloved hand. He spies movement in the bushes behind his wife and briefly sees a head of dark hair in the dimming light. "You are everything to me, do you know that?"

"Arth..." Guinevere slumps in the saddle, unconscious. Merlin is there in a flash, catching her as she starts to slide off of her horse.

"Merlin!" Arthur hisses quietly, swinging from his saddle to help bring Guinevere down. "You couldn't have waited another moment or two? I was going to dismount so I could catch her!"

"Sorry," Merlin says, speaking at a normal volume. "You were starting to look a little..."

"What?" Arthur asks, still whispering, cradling his wife in his arms.

"Spooked," Merlin says. "And you don't have to whisper. She won't wake up until I allow it."

Arthur briefly glares at his servant, not wishing to discuss anything to do with magic. "Help me put her on my horse," Arthur says. Between the two of them, they manage to get Guinevere up onto Arthur's horse, leaning her forward against the mount's neck. "I'm glad I suggested she wear her riding trousers. I would have hated to have to deal with one of her gowns," he mutters.

"Yeah, you suggested it to her," Merlin says under his breath. "Who suggested it to you?"

"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur says automatically.

Merlin almost smiles.

"You have her cloak?" Arthur asks. Merlin nods. "Hand it to me. She doesn't need to be seen like this if we happen to encounter anyone."

Merlin passes up Guinevere's slate blue cloak. Arthur drapes it over her shoulders, raises the hood, then leans her back against his shoulder and closes the clasp in front.

Merlin loads their supplies onto Guinevere's horse and swings up into the saddle. "This way," he says, spurring the horse into a brisk walk.

xXx

"We should make camp soon," Arthur says.

"You don't want to ride straight through?" Merlin asks, surprised.

"The horses need a break," Arthur answers. "And, um, don't..." he pauses, not wanting to ask the question, but needing to. "Don't you need to be rested in order to summon this goddess?"

"I've done more on less sleep," Merlin says casually.

Arthur stares.

"I think."

"To be clear, my concern is for Guinevere, not you," Arthur says, remembering he's still angry with Merlin.

"Of course," Merlin answers. "Let's get a little further along, and then..." He stops talking, holding his hand up.

Arthur nods. He also heard the rustling. He also heard the telltale snap of a twig.

They slow the horses and a moment later, three dirty, burly men leap out of the thicket and onto the path.

"Well, what have we here?" the man in the center says, sneering as he advances, regarding the bundle in Arthur's arms with curiosity. He has a dagger in his hand and a hatchet on his belt.

Merlin had suggested they not wear Camelot's colors or any identifying marks. Arthur knows his face may be familiar, so he keeps his head down, not wanting to give them away. Luckily, he is partially hidden by Guinevere.

Arthur starts to reach across for his sword, but realizes he can't wield his sword with his arms full of his unconscious Guinevere. He won't be able to effectively fight at all with her slumped in front of him. Instead, he slips one hand down to his side, reaching for his dagger, sheathed in a pocket of his saddle.

"Don't," Merlin addresses the bandits, his voice low and level. He extends a hand forward, fingers slightly spread.

Arthur notes Merlin does not look frightened. At all.

"Don't what, little man?" the leader says, looking disdainfully at Merlin, seeing only a skinny young man with no weapon.

"Don't take another step."

"Oh, are you his bodyguard then, Mary?" he asks, nodding his head towards Arthur, who is surreptitiously positioning the dagger in his hand so he can throw it. The bandit smirks and deliberately takes another step. Merlin lifts his chin a centimeter, his eyes flash, and the leader flies backwards into his two very surprised (and also airborne) companions.

Arthur gapes at the scene in front of him, never imagining he'd see Merlin do something like that. He's seen Morgana do it; he's even been on the receiving end of it a few times. Merlin hardly even moved. It was barely an effort. The thought sobers Arthur, plunging him further into his hurt, hurt that is rapidly transforming into confusion as he tries to piece together the puzzle that is his servant. He knew I would not be able to fight with Guinevere in my arms. And he did say he uses his magic to protect me…

"Let's go," Merlin says, setting his horse into motion again. He pauses beside the fallen bandits, flicks his hand a few times, and scatters their weapons. The leader's dagger flies into a large tree, burying itself to the hilt. The head of his hatchet separates from the handle. The weapons of the other two men are likewise rendered useless. "Patrol will be around in the morning," he mutters. "They'll keep till then."

"Are they dead?" Arthur asks, tucking his dagger back into its slot.

"Unconscious," Merlin says. "Not like Gwen. They're just knocked out in the traditional sense."

"Hmm," Arthur says, setting his horse into motion as well.

He doesn't say anything else for a long time.

xXx

Nearly two hours later, when they find a clearing and make camp, the moon is high in the sky. Arthur hasn't said a word since they left the bandits, but his thoughts have been very loud.

How is it possible that Merlin has managed to keep this from me all these years? How is it even possible that he is a powerful sorcerer? I saw what he did back there. It was impressive. It was a little scary. But, did he do it just to make his point about using his magic for good, for my protection? Was it just for show?

If I am to believe Gaius, he's still the Merlin I know and the Merlin I know wouldn't do something like that just for show. He's… damn it, he's too good. I can admit it to myself. He is a good person. Probably one of the best I have ever known.

But, he lied to me. For so many years.

He had to. Father would have killed him.

What about you, Arthur? What would you have done had you learned about this under different circumstances? Would you have turned him in to your father? Would you have locked him up yourself once you were king? Hanged him? Burned him at the stake? Chopped off his head?

Could you have done it?

Would you have done it? Would you have been able to live with yourself after?

Can he be killed by traditional means?

That's an unsettling thought.

And what would Guinevere say? What counsel would she give?

Arthur sighs, having a pretty good idea of what counsel his wise, kind wife would give.

I want to stay angry with him. I really do, but why? What am I accomplishing by staying angry? Upholding my laws, that's it. No. Not my laws. My father's laws.

He wants to help Guinevere. I know he's not lying about that.

But, can I even tell the difference between when he's lying and when he's telling the truth? He's been lying to me for so long, I don't know if I can believe a word that comes out of his mouth.

What magic has he used right under my nose and I haven't known?

Do I want to know?

I was always taught magic is evil. I have never knowingly seen magic used for good. Until now.

It's so confusing.

Why does he do it? That's what I truly don't understand.

"I've set a blanket out for Gwen," Merlin says quietly, interrupting Arthur's rambling thoughts. Arthur hadn't even noticed that his servant has dismounted and started setting up camp.

"Oh," Arthur responds, blinking. Merlin is beside Arthur's horse, holding his hands out to receive Guinevere. Arthur slides her down and Merlin gently guides her over his shoulder. Arthur notices Merlin treats the unconscious queen with the utmost respect. He takes great care so her body isn't jostled or mishandled and his hands never venture anywhere that could be deemed inappropriate, not even by accident.

I may not be able to tell by his words any more, but his actions speak clearly. Arthur dismounts and follows Merlin over to the blanket.

"Gently now," Arthur says, watching with amazement as Merlin carefully kneels down, Guinevere still over his shoulder. He's much stronger than he looks. And lets on.

"Mind her head," Merlin says just as Arthur's hand comes up to support Guinevere's head, guiding it down to rest on one of Merlin's satchels.

"So peaceful," Arthur whispers, bending down to kiss his wife's forehead. "We'll bring you back, my love. I promise." He kisses it one more time before striding away to retrieve his own supplies from Merlin's horse.

When he turns around, he sees Merlin covering Guinevere with her cloak, then placing another blanket over her, tucking her in to make sure she doesn't get cold. As he approaches, he can hear Merlin softly talking to her.

"…more worried than I've ever seen him. He needs you, Gwen, so you need to come back when he calls you, all right? I won't ever let Morgana hurt you. Never again, I promise you."

Arthur drops his pack and turns away, wiping an unexpected tear from his eye. Damn you, Merlin. Damn you and your magic and the fact that you are still a good man. Damn you for starting to prove that my father might be wrong.

Damn you for still being my friend.

The king thinks these thoughts, but there is no anger in them. There's confusion. A feeling of being lost, of wanting to trust Merlin again but not being able to until he can somehow understand.

He watches Merlin set up a small fire, staring as the servant strikes the flint again and again without success.

"I should…" snick "…wake up…" snick "…Gwen…" snick "…just to get her to…" snick "…light this damn…" snick "…fire."

"Why don't you just use magic?" Arthur's voice is low and unexpected.

Merlin looks up, hands suspended in midair. "I guess I'm just used to doing it this way…" he says. He watches Arthur, waiting for a sign to indicate he was serious. Arthur nods and gestures with one finger. Go on then.

Merlin drops his hands, stares at the kindling, whispers a word, and the fire flashes to life in time with his eyes. He gives Arthur a sheepish half-smile and moves back, settling against a rock. Arthur's face remains impassive.

Guinevere slumbers nearby, between the two men, and Arthur keeps a careful eye on her. He notices the blanket Merlin laid out for her is large enough for Arthur to share, should he want to. I wonder if that was intentional?

His attention is divided between his wife and his servant. Since his wife is in an enchanted sleep and (presumably) safe, he finds himself studying Merlin across the fire more and more.

"What you did back there," he suddenly says, surprising them both, "to the bandits. How often...?"

"How often do I do things like that?" Merlin asks, studying his fingers. His forearms are propped on his raised knees, his hands dangling between, idly picking at his fingernails.

"Yes."

"More often than I care to. I don't like using my magic that way. But... it always comes down to a choice." He swallows hard. "And, when the choice is them or you, it's not really a choice. It's my purpose. My d—"

"Destiny, yes, so you've said," Arthur says, but his tone is mild. "Who?"

"Who what?"

"Who have you... dispatched?"

"Arthur, I don't really..." Merlin sighs, dropping his hands.

"Is it a long list?"

"Yes," Merlin answers, looking away. "I... I don't really remember all of it. I don't actually know all the names."

"Agravaine?" He knows Gaius mentioned this, but wants to hear it from Merlin. He needs to. That wound still stings, even three years later.

Merlin nods.

"It was that night in the caves, wasn't it?"

Another nod.

"Did he die horribly?"

"Not horribly enough," Merlin answers. "I was more merciful than he deserved."

Arthur studies Merlin for a long moment. His servant is still avoiding his gaze, looking into the fire.

"All these things... everything you've done... all of it without my knowledge, without any recognition..."

"That's not why I do it," Merlin immediately, almost casually answers, looking straight at Arthur for a heartbeat. Then, he returns his attention to the fire.

Arthur doesn't ask why Merlin does what he does. He doesn't need to ask. And it humbles him. "If I knew everything, if you told me everything you can remember..."

"It would take a very long time and I don't even know if I could tell you everything," Merlin interrupts. "I've been your servant for ten years, Arthur. I arrived here with magic in me. As I've gotten older and learned how to use and control it, my magic has only gotten stronger."

"So, acting the fool was, what, your cover?"

"It wasn't always acting," Merlin admits, his lips twisting into an unwilling smile.

Arthur actually snorts a laugh.

"But, yes, my... natural tendency towards clumsiness was helpful from time to time," Merlin adds.

"Fortunate for you, I guess," Arthur says, yawning as exhaustion settles over him.

Merlin nods half-heartedly. "Get some sleep," he says.

"You need sleep if you're going to help Guinevere," Arthur argues.

"We can both sleep. No one needs to keep watch," Merlin says, sliding down a bit and resting his head against one of the bags.

Arthur looks at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Trust me," Merlin says.

Arthur opens his mouth to retort, then closes it. He also closes his eyes. "I'm trying."

"I know."

Arthur sighs and moves to lie beside Guinevere, deciding he wants to be near her. Keep her warm. And, he just wants to be near her.

He's bone-weary, but the thoughts come flooding in again. He tucks his nose into Guinevere's hair, letting her familiar scent wash over him, his eyes pinched closed.

Guinevere under Morgana's control. How could I not have seen it? She's my wife! I know her as well as I know myself. I should notice any change in her behavior.

He thinks back and suddenly several things snap into focus, things his Guinevere would never do. The mess with Tyr. How she counseled me not to visit him. Her furtive behavior during the Sarrum's visit. Her repeated disappearances. She had never behaved like that before. I may not have always known where she was, but someone was always able to point me in her direction.

He lets his mind drift, collecting more memories, more inconsistencies. To the night before the Sarrum arrived. She seemed so happy when she saw the flower garlands I had hung for her. We hadn't been together as husband and wife since we returned from the tower and I hadn't pressed her. That night, she was quite receptive. More than receptive.

Oh, gods, I didn't even notice she was different in our marriage bed...

It was only the one time and I must have attributed her more... aggressive nature to heightened desire because it had been so long.

Arthur's face grows hot with embarrassment and shame and he turns away from Guinevere. He feels slightly ill again and this time, it's his own fault. His disappointment in himself for being so stupid.

I've been so foolish. About so much. The two people I trust above all others, both breaking my heart in different ways. The worst part is neither of them can really be blamed for their actions.

Well, Merlin can. Somewhat.

Damn it.

He turns over again, needing the closeness of his wife despite the circumstances. He's not sure if he'll get much sleep and it feels a little strange holding Guinevere when she's unresponsive like this, but the hope that she can once again be her true self brings him comfort this night.

We'll bring you back, Guinevere. I promise. Not for me, though I need you more than anything or anyone. We'll bring you back for yourself.

Chapter Text

Arthur awakes at dawn to find Merlin already up and making breakfast. He slept better than expected and feels fairly well-rested. He rises and ducks behind a tree to empty his bladder before returning to Guinevere's side.

"Good morning, Sire," Merlin quietly says.

"Merlin," Arthur greets, barely glancing at him. He is busy fussing over Guinevere, smoothing her hair away from her face, checking that she is warm enough. He drops a soft kiss on her forehead.

Merlin wasn't expecting much, but he frowns, hating the awkwardness between them. While he understands Arthur's actions, it doesn't make them any easier to bear. He can only hope Arthur will come around. It's only your head, Merlin. Nothing important. He snorts an unbidden laugh at his dark sarcasm.

"What are you laughing at over there?" Arthur asks, puzzling over what Merlin could possibly find humorous right now. He stands and stretches.

"Hmm? Nothing," Merlin says. Nothing you would find funny. Nothing I find funny, actually. "Here." He holds out a metal plate with some food on it.

Arthur steps over and takes it. "Thank you," he mutters, sitting down near Guinevere's feet. "Is she... does Guinevere need anything to eat or drink? Seems a bit unfair."

"She doesn't need anything right now, no," Merlin says, his mouth full. "However, she'll likely be very hungry when she wakes."

"I would imagine so," Arthur says. "I hope you packed enough food."

"Of course, I did," Merlin says. "If not, you're a hunter, right?"

Arthur gives Merlin a sideways look, not amused.

"Sorry," Merlin says, standing and starting to pack up their campsite while Arthur resumes eating.

Once Arthur has finished, they set about collecting Guinevere and setting her back on Arthur's horse.

"It's fortunate she's tiny," Arthur says, lifting her from the ground.

Merlin says nothing, wisely deciding that referring to the queen as "dead weight" would be both disrespectful and unwise. She's small, but that doesn't mean she's not a bit cumbersome while in this condition.

Arthur strides to the side of his horse, Guinevere in his arms, looking expectantly at Merlin.

"Why don't we just… you, know, um, drape her sideways over the horse? It would be easier," Merlin suggests.

Arthur glares at him. "Merlin, Guinevere is not a sack of grain. She is your queen and my wife."

"Right. Um..." He presses his lips together, debating.

"What?" Arthur snaps.

"I can just... you know..." he gestures with his hands, trying to convey he is able to use his magic to move Gwen into place without actually saying it.

"No."

"It would be simpler."

"You'll drop her."

"Not if you don't distract me. Arthur, you do realize I'll be doing much more than this once we get to the lake, don't you? And, she'll be in greater danger if I mess that up," Merlin points out. He immediately realizes this may not have been the wisest thing to say.

"It's nice to know you have such confidence in yourself," Arthur says, frowning.

"I didn't mean—"

"I know you didn't mean it like that," Arthur sighs. "Fine. Do it. Prove I can trust you with my wife's life." Then, he relaxes his hold on Guinevere, still holding her securely, but loose enough to make his point.

"Very well," Merlin says, squaring his shoulders. The worst you can do here is drop her. The worst you'll be able to do there is make a mistake and lose her forever.

Either way, I'm dead.

He takes a deep breath and raises his hands. His eyes flash gold and Guinevere starts to lift from Arthur's arms. He startles at first, instinctively holding onto her, but quickly recovers and releases her. He hovers close by, determined to catch her should Merlin falter.

A few tense moments later, Guinevere is seated safely atop Arthur's horse.

"All right then," Arthur says, resting his hand on Guinevere's boot for a moment, almost as though he's confirming she's really there.

"Let's get moving," Merlin says, stepping over to his horse. "I'd like to get there as soon as we can."

Arthur gives him a look and swings onto his horse.

xXx

"Nearly there," Merlin says. He and Arthur have been riding all morning and have just stopped because they can't bring the horses any further. The terrain is much too treacherous to try to continue on horseback.

They secure the horses and Merlin whispers an enchantment to keep them hidden.

"How do you know where this place is?" Arthur asks. He unclasps and removes Guinevere's cloak and they slide Guinevere down from the horse without the use of magic.

"It's not something I can explain," Merlin answers. He's looking around, trying not to appear uneasy, but for the past hour, he's been aware of eyes following them.

"What is it, Merlin?" Arthur asks testily, walking with his wife cradled in his arms. "You've been jumpy ever since we left the forest."

"Someone – or something – is watching us," Merlin blurts. Having him know the truth is certainly freeing. "Maybe tracking our progress."

"Morgana?" Arthur asks.

Merlin sighs. "It's possible the Dochraid alerted her to our plans."

"Well, we'd best hurry then," Arthur says, walking faster.

"If she's getting heavy..."

"Choose your words carefully, Merlin," Arthur says. "And, I'm fine."

They walk silently for a while, descending deep into the craggy landscape. It's all rock. There are no trees and only a few scraggly plants poke up from between the rocks.

"Arthur," Merlin says. We're very close. I can feel it.

"Yes?"

"When I wake Gwen, she will be disoriented initially. Confused. She then may quickly realize we know the truth." He pauses, glancing over at Arthur. "If so, you need to remain strong. Remember what you need to do. She may say hateful, hurtful things to you, but you'll have to ignore them. Do not let them discourage you. It's Morgana's influence trying to dissuade you. Your Gwen is mostly gone; the person she is now wants you dead." He stops walking and faces Arthur. "You must reach the part buried deep inside. The part that is truly our Gwen. Your Guinevere. Above all else, Arthur, you cannot force her into the water. She has to enter under her own free will."

"What will happen if she doesn't?" Arthur asks.

"She'll be forever lost to us."

"Lost how? Permanently under Morgana's control... or... dead?" Arthur asks, his voice breaking.

"I don't know. Neither is an acceptable result," Merlin says.

"No. Not at all," Arthur says, looking down at Guinevere, her head resting on his shoulder. He takes a deep breath, preparing himself for what is to come. "So, why are we just standing here then?"

"Right. It's just beyond that boulder," Merlin says. He starts walking, followed by Arthur. They pass the boulder and the landscape opens up to a small lake, the surface glittering in the sunlight. The water is blue and looks very deep.

"Where is the source of the water?" Arthur wonders, his eyes scanning their surroundings. "I see no river feeding it..."

"This is a place of magic, Arthur," Merlin says. "It doesn't need a source. Not a traditional one, anyway."

"Right," Arthur grumbles. There are going to be many things to which I'm going to have to become accustomed if I allow Merlin to stay in Camelot. He gestures with his head at Merlin, who quickly pulls a blanket out of his pack for Guinevere. Arthur gently lays her down on it. He smoothes her hair and tenderly whispers, "It won't be long now, my love."

It's only when he stands and sees Merlin facing the lake, his eyes closed in concentration, does he realize his thought. "If I allow him to stay in Camelot." Not "If I allow him to live."

His shoulders droop and he looks down at Guinevere again, longingly wishing he could talk this over with her.

I know what the right answer is. I also know what the easy answer is. Unfortunately, they are not the same.

He takes a deep breath, clearing his head. Guinevere first. "Merlin?" Arthur quietly asks, not wishing to disturb him if he's preparing himself.

Merlin turns immediately. "Ready?" he asks, sounding like he was waiting on Arthur.

"Yes."

They both crouch beside Guinevere, flanking her. Merlin looks at Arthur, who nods. He then whispers a few words, his hand on the queen's forehead. As soon as she stirs, he removes his hand and stands, stepping back.

"Guinevere…" Arthur breathes her name, softly caressing her cheek as her eyes blink open.

She looks around, then suddenly sits up. "Where am I?" her voice is sharper than normal. She scrambles to her feet, shaking off Arthur's assisting hand on her elbow. "What have you done to me?" she demands, looking frantically between Arthur and Merlin. "What—"

"We're trying to help you, Love," Arthur gently says, reaching a hand out towards her.

"Help me? Help me?" she scoffs, evading his grasp. "The only person you've ever been interested in helping is yourself, Arthur Pendragon!" She starts to step away from him and he reaches out, lightning fast, his hand on her elbow, gentle but firm.

"Let go of me! The only way you can help me is for you to die!" Guinevere yells, struggling. She raises her hand to slap Arthur in the face.

He catches her arm easily, maintaining his hold on her opposite elbow. His large hand circles her forearm and though his grip is like steel, he is not hurting her. He will not hurt her.

"Guinevere, my love. Please, listen to me," Arthur presses, willing his voice to stay soft. Her words have stabbed him, but he reminds himself they're not really her words.

"Let me go!" she shouts, pulling against his grasp to no avail. "I am not your love! I have never loved you!"

"You do love me, Guinevere. You know it as well as I," he continues, maintaining his hold on her as she tries to wrench away.

"No... never... it was a ruse. Always was. Part of my mistress' plan to..." she struggles against his strength, faltering when she discovers he is immovable,, "…break you so that Camelot may pass on to its rightful queen!"

"Guinevere, remember..." Arthur holds her closer still, gazing into her eyes, desperately hoping the physical proximity will help. "Remember our first kiss in your home, how it surprised us both... remember how we fought against our feelings… how we had to hide our love from my father... from almost everyone..."

Guinevere stills for a moment, blinks, and once more, attempts to pull away. "No…" she protests, but her voice is weakening.

"Keep going, Arthur… it's working," Merlin quietly says behind him. "More."

"Our love broke the enchantment I was under, Guinevere. When you kissed me to save me from Lady Vivian… if I did not love you, if you did not truly love me, it would not have worked… Guinevere, remember… remember the picnic, how we talked so freely about our hopes and dreams... how we kissed under the trees… how… how I renounced my throne for you… and you wouldn't allow me to do so…" tears are starting to form in Arthur's eyes as he continues to speak. "Guinevere, my Guinevere... remember how our love was strong enough to overcome all the obstacles in our way… even the obstacles I was stupid enough to put in place myself…"

"N-no… it was…"

Arthur pulls her as close as he can, wrapping his arms around her and whispering in her ear. "Remember our wedding night, Guinevere? How we were up all night, discovering…" he trails off a moment, almost getting lost in that particular memory. How exquisite she was. The unbearable sweetness and passion we shared. No, not that memory. Think, Arthur, think or you are going to lose her forever. "Guinevere… remember when I asked you to marry me? Do you remember how you answered? You said, 'Yes, with all my heart.'"

Her body stills, but Arthur doesn't notice. "There was nothing false in those words, Guinevere. You meant those words with everything you had. They remain true..." he gasps softly, kissing her hair when he realizes she has stopped fighting him. He leans back a little, still holding her close, looking down into her eyes. They are wide and glassy as they search his face. "With all my heart, Guinevere."

She blinks once and he sees a glimmer of recognition that makes his heart pound.

Her breath catches and her body starts to tremble in his arms. "W-with… all my… heart…" she repeats, her voice a quavering whisper.

Arthur loosens his arms. Guinevere's body sags and Arthur supports her, unsure if she's going to fall. Once he's certain her feet are stable, he steps back, towards the water. "With all my heart," he repeats. His feet splash into the lake and he holds one hand out, inviting her to follow.

Guinevere looks dazed, unsteady, and confused, but she repeats the powerful words. "With all my heart," she says, stronger now, taking a step towards her husband. Arthur takes another step back. The cold water pours into his boots, but he pays no heed. His full attention is on his wife.

"With all my heart," he repeats. "Come."

Guinevere takes another wobbly step, then another, drawn to the soft timbre of her husband's voice. "With all my heart," she whispers, her hand slipping into his as she takes her first step into the water.

"I love you, Guinevere," Arthur whispers, squeezing her hand, encouraging her with a slight nod as she proceeds further into the lake, moving past him. "With all my heart."

Arthur turns to watch, wondering how far she'll go, afraid she'll go too deep. Then, the sound of Merlin's voice enters his consciousness, chanting in an unfamiliar tongue. He sounds strange, as if he is speaking with more than one voice.

Merlin's voice grows louder and Guinevere stops, waist-deep in the cold water. Arthur keeps his eyes trained on his wife as a bright white light grows around her, becoming more incandescent as Merlin's voice continues to increase in volume. The light encapsulates the queen until it seems to shine through her, radiating out from somewhere deep inside. Guinevere closes her eyes and allows the light to cleanse her as she is freed from the enchantment.

Arthur feels no sense of alarm or fear at this sight. In fact, he feels just the opposite – comforted, hopeful, and warm. Then, Merlin stops speaking, his voice having reached an otherworldly roar. It echoes through the cauldron and the light disperses in a great flash.

Arthur holds his breath, waiting anxiously, afraid to move, afraid his wife is going to turn back to him with hatred in her eyes once again.

Guinevere faces him and he can immediately see the change in her. Her eyes. The coldness is gone.

She reaches her hand out towards him and he breathes again.

Guinevere watches as he approaches, moving as quickly as he can through the water. My Arthur. I feel like I haven't seen him in days. She watches him draw near and the familiar feeling of sunlight and warmth steals over her. It's how she feels whenever she sees him, like the world is right, a better place because he loves her and she loves him. She feels better, as though a great burden has been lifted, but she doesn't understand why. All she knows is she needs her husband right now. He pulls her into his arms and she hugs him back, holding him tightly, fiercely. Never wanting to ever let him go.

"Arthur," she whispers.

"Guinevere," he replies, his voice breaking, afraid to hope that their nightmare is over. He buries his face in her neck, kissing her again and again until his lips find hers.

She clings to him, returning his kisses, heedless of the water and the wet saltiness of his tears. What has happened? Why are we here? She's not sure what has occurred, but she knows being here in Arthur's arms is right. It is good. It is true.

"I love you, Arthur," Guinevere says, pressing her cheek against his, not caring that it is a little scratchy.

"You're truly back?" Arthur asks, gazing down into her eyes once again, reassured to see they are now clear and shining with love. "It's really you? You're yourself again? You love me?"

"I'm not sure where I was, but... yes, I love you more than anything," she says. "With all my heart," she repeats. She blinks in confusion for a moment, wondering why those long-ago words surfaced just now.

Guinevere doesn't have time to ponder them because Arthur is hugging her again, relief washing over him.

"Arthur?" she asks.

"Yes, my love?"

"Why are we in a lake? Can we get out? It's very cold."

"Yes, of course, I'm sorry," he answers, walking towards the shore with his wife still in his arms. "I'll explain everything soon, Love."

She wraps her legs around his waist as the water gets shallower, hanging on with all four limbs. Arthur almost laughs with joy. Then, he sees Merlin, sitting on the blanket, looking exhausted.

Guinevere puts her feet on the ground and notices Merlin, her brows knitting with concern. "Merlin, are you all right?" she asks.

"Yes," he answers, but his voice is weak. Tired. He smiles a little. "I'm glad you're back."

"Thank you, Merlin. I... I'm not sure where I've been, but..."

"We'll talk about that later," Arthur gently says, kissing her temple. She's shivering, chilled by her wet clothes. The warmth of the day doesn't seem to permeate the cauldron.

"There are dry clothes for you in here," Merlin says, shoving his satchel towards them, truly not having the energy to lift it.

"Thank you, Merlin," Arthur says, bending to pick it up. He leads Guinevere to a group of boulders to give her privacy, but pauses near Merlin, resting a hand on his shoulder as Guinevere continues on. "Thank you," he repeats, his voice softer and more serious. Merlin knows he is not only being thanked for the dry clothes.

"You're welcome," he answers. Then, he looks up at Arthur. "This is what I do, Arthur. This is what I've been doing all along. Only now, you know. You've seen it and you know."

"I do."

Merlin looks Arthur straight in the eye. "You're not going to kill me," he says. It's not a question; it's not a command. It's a realization.

"No. I'm not."

They regard each other another moment. "There are dry clothes for you in that bag, too. You don't want to fall ill now that your queen is restored to you."

The corner of Arthur's lip twitches into a tiny smile. He nods at Merlin, then goes to change.

xXx

"Arthur, will you tell me what happened, please?" Guinevere asks as they walk back to the horses. "Goodness, I feel like I haven't eaten in at least a day," she adds absently.

"There's some food with the horses," Merlin says. "Sorry, I should have brought some with, but I was trying to travel light." He looks up at the sky again, eyes tracking... something. Or someone.

"That feeling still there?" Arthur asks, holding his hand out for Guinevere to help her across a particularly treacherous section.

Merlin nods. "We need to get back to the forest. I don't like being out in the open like this."

"Arthur," Guinevere presses, pulling on his hand. She stops. "What happened to me?"

He sighs and takes both of her hands in his. "You've been under an enchantment ever since we rescued you from the tower. Morgana has been controlling you. I wanted to wait until we returned to the horses to tell you, but... it's not fair of us to keep you in the dark."

"What?" she asks, her eyes wide. "I..." she closes her eyes, thinking hard. It's all fuzzy... like I've woken up from a bad dream, but I don't remember what it entailed. All I know is it was awful. "How long?"

"Nearly two weeks, my love. I... I'm sorry I didn't see it sooner..." Arthur says, his voice breaking as guilt once again washes over him.

"Shh, Arthur, no..." Guinevere throws her arms around him, hugging him tightly. "You cannot take any blame for this. Morgana may be evil, but she's smart. Unfortunately, my having been her handmaiden for so long gave her an advantage. She knows me too well and has used that knowledge."

"I should have noticed..." Arthur says, resting his head against hers.

"Arthur, Gwen is right," Merlin says. "None of us noticed. Morgana is smart and she knows Gwen is as welll. Gwen's intelligence combined with Morgana's evil was a very dangerous weapon."

"You noticed, Merlin," Arthur points out.

"I happened to be in the right place at the right time," Merlin shrugs.

"Weapon?" Gwen asks, pulling away, looking up at Arthur. "I was a weapon? What did I do?" She looks worried, fearful about what it was Morgana had her do – or attempt to do – while she was under her control.

Merlin looks up at the sky again. "We need to keep moving," he urges. "Gwen, I promise we'll tell you everything, but we need to get under the cover of the forest as soon as possible."

Gwen looks disappointed and a little frustrated, but nods, following Merlin, her hand firmly in Arthur's. Since when does Arthur listen to Merlin's instincts without question? And why is Merlin so jumpy? And tired?

"Who do you think it is?" Arthur asks.

"Morgana. If not herself, then maybe..." Merlin trails off, his eyes tracking skyward again.

"That dragon of hers?" Arthur asks.

"Perhaps," Merlin says. I hope it is Aithusa. She isn't a threat to me.

They finally reach the horses. Merlin had lifted the concealing enchantment far enough in advance so as not to alarm Guinevere. He wants to tell her about his magic rather than having her find out by seeing horses appear out of nowhere.

Guinevere rides with Arthur again, munching an apple and trying to remember... something. Anything.

They ride for a short time before stopping to have a small lunch of fruit and dried meat.

"What is the last thing you remember, Guinevere?" Arthur asks, pulling his still-damp boots off for a bit.

"I remember... being in the tower. It was like living a nightmare. But... even that's hazy. Once Morgana locked me in the room with all those... things..."

"Mandrake roots," Merlin supplies.

Gwen puzzles at him a moment, but continues. "My memories are cloudy from that point on. I know something very bad was happening to me." She tightly closes her eyes. "If I concentrate, I get a fleeting memory, but mostly it's just a horrible feeling of despair. Hopelessness. Emptiness. Abandonment."

"I'm sorry she put you through all of that, Gwen," Merlin says. He looks truly pained by this.

"Thank you, Merlin, but you're not to blame for her actions," Guinevere says.

I certainly didn't help Morgana as much as I could have. Merlin's face is grim, but he says nothing in response.

"Merlin," Guinevere says, studying him, "what's troubling you? I don't want to say you've been acting strangely since I... woke up, but please, tell me. What is it?"

Merlin stills, then takes a deep breath. "Gwen, there is so much I need to tell you... we need to tell you..." he trails off, looking at Arthur.

"This one is all yours," Arthur says, holding up his hands. Guinevere briefly puzzles at Arthur before returning her attention to Merlin.

Merlin sighs. "The other things we have to tell you might make more sense if you know this first," he mutters. "You know you were enchanted and you know we just broke that enchantment," he begins, looking at Guinevere. She nods. "Aren't you wondering how we broke it?"

"Yes, actually. I mean, it had to have something to do with that lake. Was it a magic lake?" she asks. Her eyes widen and she turns to Arthur. "Arthur, did you... you had to use magic to bring me back!"

Arthur slowly nods. "You were enchanted. There was no other way, Guinevere. Sorcery has to be fought with sorcery," he quietly says. He is surprised to discover he doesn't feel defeated saying these words. Instead, a feeling of acceptance slowly rolls through him. The only way to fight evil magic is with good magic. Why did I never see the sense in this before?

Because you were taught that all magic is evil.

"I'm a sorcerer, Gwen," Merlin says. She turns back to him with a gasp. "I... I was born with magic and... used it to summon the White Goddess so that you would be freed from your enchantment."

"Merlin..." she whispers, staring at him in disbelief.

"The waters of the lake cleansed you of the evil Morgana put inside you," Merlin nervously finishes.

Guinevere is stunned, rendered speechless.

"Please don't let this change your opinion of me," he asks, looking at her, tears welling in his eyes. "I'm still the same person I always was. I... I couldn't let Morgana control you like that. Not when I could do something about it."

"Why…why didn't you tell me?" she asks, frowning. She's surprised at the hurt she feels at his revelation.

"It was my burden to bear, Gwen. If I told you, you would also be in danger, just for knowing," he says.

"Does Gaius know?"

"Well, yes, but..."

The stricken look on her face stops whatever feeble excuse he was about to give. "Gwen, as the years passed, it became harder to guard my secret, but... I didn't want to put you in the position of having to keep something from Arthur. I wouldn't make you choose between him and me. It wouldn't be right. He's your husband. I'm only your friend. A good friend, but your loyalty must be to Arthur."

"He knows now though," she says, glancing at Arthur, who nods.

"I didn't respond well," he says. "I'm still not happy about it, to be honest. I chose to put all that aside in the interest of saving you." He reaches over, takes her hand in his, and lifts it to his lips.

"He flipped over a table. And, he almost tackled me," Merlin supplies.

Gwen nods. "Yes, that's about how I would have imagined his reaction." She looks at Arthur who has suddenly decided the fingernails on his free hand are very interesting.

Merlin sighs. "I was almost forced to allow you to see my magic once. If Arthur hadn't arrived and killed the Lamia when he did, you would have seen me use it to save us."

Guinevere slowly nods, understanding now. Merlin wasn't being selfish by not sharing his secret with me, he was being selfless.

"Gwen, if I would have shared this burden with anyone, it would have been you. You're... even though you're the queen now, you were the first person in Camelot to befriend me and that has always meant more to me than I can say. I think of you as a sister. I know it's not 'proper' for a servant to feel that way about his queen, but..."

"Merlin," Guinevere interrupts him. She moves over to sit beside him and places her hand over his, "it's all right. I was your friend before I became queen and I shall always be your friend." She squeezes his hand, then holds on to it. "You know you are more than just a servant," she says, glancing at Arthur, "to both of us."

"Thank you," Merlin says. He wipes his eyes with his free hand. Guinevere turns and hugs Merlin tightly. "Don't worry, Arthur's not going to have me executed," he says.

"Of course, he won't," she answers. She pulls away and looks at him, wiping an errant tear from his cheek. "He would never do that. Not to you."

Arthur watches them, moved by Guinevere's faith in him. It seems she knows my heart and mind better than I do right now.

xXx

They settle in at the same place Merlin and Arthur camped the previous night and Guinevere gets to see Merlin use his magic to light the fire. She smiles, impressed.

"Thank you, Merlin," she says.

"Oh, um, you're welcome. It's nothing really," he says, setting about getting their dinner ready.

"No, not the fire, though that was quite impressive. Thank you for bringing me back to myself. You risked your life for me and I won't ever forget it," she says, stepping over to him. He stands and she hugs him. "You are very dear to me, Merlin," she adds, pulling slightly away. Then, she lifts up on tiptoe and kisses his cheek. "Thank you so very much."

"You're welcome, Gwen," he answers, blushing.

She smiles at him once more, then goes back to sit beside Arthur. He grabs her and pulls her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her.

"I'm just so glad you're better. That you're yourself again," he says. "I don't know what I would have done..."

"Shh, let's not discuss that," she says, caressing his cheek. "You saved me and I'm very glad to be back."

"Merlin saved you," he says.

"Arthur, it was your voice that called me, not Merlin's. I heard what you said to me and it was... it was like waking up from a long sleep."

"Arthur had to reach you. I couldn't have done it," Merlin explains and she turns to look at him. "Arthur had to find the part of you that was untainted by Morgana's manipulation. In a way, his job was more difficult than mine. You see, you had to walk into the lake voluntarily."

"Tell me," she says, shifting to face Merlin. Arthur allows her to move off of his lap, but he keeps his arm around her and holds her snugly to his side.

Merlin and Arthur tell Guinevere what happened at the cauldron, how Merlin woke her after keeping her in an enchanted sleep, how Arthur called on memories of their life together to reach her.

"With all my heart," Guinevere says, smiling lovingly at Arthur. "That must be why I said it later. It was fresh in my mind, only I didn't fully realize it." She sets her dinner plate aside and huddles closer to him.

"Are you getting cold? I can fetch your cloak for you," Arthur offers. "Or a blanket."

"My cloak would be nice, thank you," she says. Arthur reaches for one of the satchels and withdraws her cloak. He places it over her shoulders, waits for her to arrange it how she wants it, then wraps his arm around her again. Guinevere lays her head on his shoulder and sighs.

Merlin tidies up and hunkers down beside the fire. Occasionally, he manipulates the smoke into shapes, almost absentmindedly.

"You said I was a weapon," Guinevere suddenly says after a few moments of quiet. "What did I do?"

"Are you sure you want to know?" Arthur asks, looking down at her.

"How would you feel knowing you were not in control of your own actions for several days? Wouldn't you like to know what you'd gotten up to during that time, no matter how awful?" she asks, meeting his gaze.

"She has a point, Arthur," Merlin says. Arthur nods. "Gwen," Merlin continues, "if you were in Morgana's place, what would you have done?" he asks. His voice is quiet and careful.

Guinevere is silent for a few moments. Then, her breath hitches into a muffled sob. "No... please tell me I didn't..."

"You attempted it twice," Arthur quietly says. Horrified, Guinevere tries to pull away from him, but he draws her nearer. "The first was by poison and the second was an assassination attempt arranged with the help of the Sarrum of Amata. One of his henchmen tried to shoot me with a crossbow during their visit."

Guinevere drops her head, burying her face in her hands, sobbing with remorse. "I'm sorry, Arthur," she whispers, not lifting her head. "I'm so, so sorry, my love."

"Guinevere, it wasn't you," Arthur answers, kissing her hair, holding her close. She turns slightly and presses her face into his shoulder.

"I know, but I still feel terrible," she says.

"You didn't succeed, that's the important part. I'm still alive," Arthur says. "And, I assume we have Merlin to thank for that." He looks over at Merlin, who is staring at the fire, frowning with concern for Guinevere.

"Just doing what I've always done, my lord," Merlin answers. He doesn't move, but his eyes flick in Arthur's direction.

"Merlin," Guinevere says, lifting her head and wiping her eyes, "that was dangerous for you... I mean, I probably would have killed you, too..."

"You tried, in a way," Merlin says. "You pinned the blame on me for the poison, actually."

"Oh, no, Merlin, I'm..."

"It's all right, Gwen. Being locked in the dungeon isn't much of a deterrent for me," he says. "But, it was my first clue there was something very wrong with you."

Fresh tears started falling from Guinevere's eyes while Merlin was speaking and she wipes them away. "All the same, I'm sorry, Merlin. Even though I wasn't acting under my own control, the fact remains you deserve an apology," she softly says.

"Thank you, Gwen," he says. "Luckily, Morgana doesn't see me as much of a threat or things could have been a lot worse," he adds.

"Something for which we should be thankful," Arthur says.

"Yes," Guinevere says, grateful for a slightly different topic. She sniffles and continues, sitting up straighter. "The longer we can keep her from knowing about your secret, the greater our advantage."

"Hopefully, she never has to find out," Arthur says, smiling. I know Guinevere is smart, but I sometimes forget she understands strategy better than most of my knights.

"That would be good, but I'm not going to keep my hopes up," Merlin says. "Morgana seems to have a knack for gathering allies and spies."

"Are you saying you want to continue keeping your magic a secret? Even from our most trusted friends?" Guinevere asks.

"At this point, I think the less people who know, the safer we are," Merlin answers. "As long as Morgana is around and there are weak-willed, power-hungry men who believe her seductive lies, we have to stay vigilant."

"Aren't you more powerful than she?" Arthur asks.

"Truly?" Guinevere adds.

"It's Gaius who is more certain of that," Merlin says. He idly throws another log on the fire. "I'd really rather not have to pit my power directly against hers unless it becomes absolutely necessary."

"Good point," Arthur nods. "Very well. I leave it up to you to decide whom to tell. Just… let me know who those individuals are."

"Of course," Merlin says. "So... you're not going to punish me at all?"

Arthur says nothing for a long moment. "Probably not."

"I think you've endured enough suffering all these years, Merlin," Guinevere gently adds. Once again, she leans her head against Arthur's shoulder and covers a yawn with her hand.

"You should sleep, my lady," Merlin says.

"Wasn't I asleep for an entire day?" she asks, but her eyelids are drooping.

"Enchanted sleep. It's a different kind. Not very restful," Merlin says.

"You must be tired, too, Merlin. I remember seeing how exhausted you were when we came out of the lake," she says. Arthur is spreading a blanket out for them and Merlin reaches for a blanket as well.

"I am. The only reason I didn't immediately fall asleep after we ate is because I knew you'd have questions," Merlin answers, lying down.

"Thank you," she says, curling on her side and almost immediately falling asleep, Arthur's arms around her.

Arthur lies awake, mulling things over. He is not yet tired enough for sleep, but content to lie with Guinevere, his true Guinevere, in his arms. After a few minutes, Merlin sneezes and Arthur looks over at him. He can just see Merlin in the dying firelight, tossing on his blanket, attempting to get comfortable on the hard ground. "Merlin?" Arthur quietly asks, mindful of his sleeping wife. Guinevere doesn't stir, her head tucked under his chin.

"Hmm?"

"Why did you never tell me?"

"You would have killed me."

"Would I have?" Arthur asks.

Merlin says nothing. When Arthur doesn't speak further, Merlin answers his question with one of his own. "You can't answer that, can you?"

Arthur sighs. "No, I can't."

"Which is precisely why I couldn't tell you, Arthur. I didn't want to put that burden on your shoulders. I didn't want you to have to make that choice." He sits up. "I'm not like Morgana or Agravaine or even Uther, Arthur. I don't want power. The only person I am interested in seeing on the throne is you. You and Gwen. The others made their choices based on their own desires. Honestly, I saw what their betrayals did to you. I was right there with you the entire time. Do you seriously believe I kept this from you to hurt you? Because I didn't trust you? I didn't tell you because it might have hurt you more if you knew the truth."

Merlin lies back down, sighing heavily.

"I know," Arthur answers. "I can see the logic in all of it. My head tells me you have done everything you can to protect me, even from myself sometimes. My head knows you're still the same terrible servant I've had all these years."

Merlin snorts a laugh. "And what does your heart tell you, Arthur?"

Arthur looks down at his sleeping wife. His queen. His love. His reason for existing, truly returned to him, restored to herself with the help of his strange and suddenly mysterious servant. "My heart tells me I can still trust you," he says.

Chapter Text

"Elyan!"

Guinevere wakes with a start, jerking in Arthur's arms. Her wide eyes meet his concerned blue ones and she exhales heavily, sagging against his chest, knowing she's safe in his arms.

"Shh, Guinevere, you're safe," Arthur coos and she drops her head against his chest, under his chin. Arthur looks over at Merlin, already awake and packing up, and sees that his servant is thinking the same thing. She doesn't know.

"It was a dream… a nightmare…" Guinevere says. "Elyan. He was dying in my arms. All I could do was watch him die, there in the darkness of…" She gasps and looks up at Arthur, her face ashen.

"The tower. Yes, Love. I am so sorry," Arthur softly says, stroking her hair. "I don't think it was so much a bad dream, more a… a memory."

"So… Elyan's really…?"

"I'm sorry," Arthur whispers, holding her tightly as she ducks her head and sobs into his chest, her tears soaking his shirt, her body shaking with shock and grief. "If it helps, he did not die in vain. He died rescuing you from Morgana. The enchanted blade that took his life… it was intended for me."

She continues to weep, clutching Arthur. He rubs soothing circles on her back and kisses her hair, allowing her the time to mourn again. Being present for her this time when he was unable to in the tower.

I was so paralyzed with shock that I couldn't, in fact, go to her, hold her in her time of need. He squeezes his eyes closed and a tear slips out of one corner, rolling back into his ear. Later that night, I attempted to comfort her, to hold her in my arms. She rebuffed me, shrinking into herself. I didn't press, allowing her to grieve as she chose. He looks down at her, clinging tightly to him, availing herself of his strength and support. It was the enchantment that made her push me away. I see that now.

"Gwen," Merlin quietly says, crouching beside them, "Elyan was so proud of you. I don't know if he ever told you, but we could all see it. Whenever he spoke of you, he was bursting with pride. We always thought he'd pop the buckle on his belt. In fact, Gwaine used to incessantly tease him about it."

Guinevere hitches a watery laugh against Arthur's chest, then lifts her head to look at Merlin.

"We knew it was a trap and still we went," Merlin quietly says, taking her hand and squeezing it.

"He was a fine knight, a good man, and is dearly missed by all of us," Arthur says, kissing her forehead. "If he had known before going into that tower that you would be rescued, but he would die… he still would have gone in, Gwen. He would have, for you," he adds.

"Yes," Merlin confirms. Any one of us would have.

"Did I mourn him? Truly?" Guinevere asks, sitting up and wiping her eyes. Arthur hands her a handkerchief from inside the bag they had been using as a pillow. "Thank you," she says.

"Yes, you did," Arthur answers. "I believe it was in earnest."

"I hope so," she says, furrowing her brow. "Oh, Elyan!" she moans. "I can't believe he's gone." Tears start falling anew and Arthur wraps his arms around her again.

"It was a beautiful day when we had his send-off, Gwen," Merlin says. "The sun was shining – you know how he always liked sunny days – and the lake was still and calm. All the Knights of Camelot were there, standing behind you, supporting you as you bade farewell to your brother."

Gwen closes her eyes, tears slowly rolling down her cheeks as Merlin speaks. "I… I think I remember. Arthur… you had your arm around my shoulders. It was nearly sunset. I didn't cry. I couldn't anymore," she whispers.

"Yes," Arthur nods, kissing her temple.

She opens her eyes and looks at them. "I need to know everything that happened while I was enchanted. I don't want to learn about it through a series of nightmares," she declares, wiping her eyes again.

"I'm sorry we neglected to tell you yesterday, Guinevere," Arthur says. "There was just so much…"

"I understand. You had to deal with the critical issues first," she nods. "And I kept asking questions." She smiles a little, picking at the edges of the handkerchief while Arthur gently pulls her into the circle of his arms again, hugging her tightly.

"We will tell you everything," Merlin says with a confidence he does not feel. He knows there are some things she's not going to enjoy hearing and while the queen is very strong, he still worries for her mental well-being. "But first, we need to get home. Can we eat and ride?"

"What's the hurry, Merlin?" Arthur wonders. "I thought we were safe in the forest from the whatever-it-is that was watching us?"

"I said safer, not safe. I'm still anxious," Merlin says, now standing and shoving items into bags.

"Still?" Guinevere repeats, standing as well.

"Yes. It's been too easy."

xXx

"Sir Leon, the King and Queen have been spotted," Mordred reports, looking up at the tall knight.

"Where are they?" Leon inquires.

"About five miles out. Requesting permission to ride out and meet them."

Leon thinks a moment, then looks at the young knight. "Itching to get out of here for a bit, yes?" he asks, slightly smiling.

Mordred cannot hide his grin.

"Very well. Go on then. Escort them back home, lad," Leon says, clapping him on the back. "And, Mordred?"

"Yes?" Mordred turns back.

"Good work these past few days. You're a quick study. It will help you go far," the older knight says, nodding his approval.

"Thank you, sir," Mordred smiles and dashes off to the stables.

Leon strides towards the kitchen to check that lunch will be ready for the king and queen upon their return. He pushes the door open and pauses halfway in when he hears the conversation in progress.

"...well, I heard they went off to consult with a wise woman – you know, a witch – to seek advice about getting the queen with child. About time, if you ask me. Three years and no heir? Either they're not trying hard enough, if you know what I mean, or she's ba—"

Sir Leon clears his throat loudly and pushes the rest of the way into the kitchen. There are two girls working just inside the doors. One is kneading bread dough at a table and the other is plucking a chicken over a basin.

Or, they were. They've both stopped moving, frozen in place as the First Knight of Camelot glares at them.

"Sir Leon, I..." the girl making bread stammers.

"Enough," he snaps. "Where did you hear such ridiculous lies?"

"Um... well, a person hears talk around the castle... sir... and, um... I was just walking around, um, doing my duties, and..." the girl falters under Leon's angry stare. "I'm sorry, I cannot say for certain," she answers biting her lip.

"You do realize your words could be considered treasonous, do you not? Gossiping about the king and queen's private affairs? Spreading lies about consorting with witches when magic is banned in this land?"

"I'm sorry, sir. It... it won't happen again," she says, close to tears now.

"See that it doesn't. And see that the rumors stop."

"H-how do I do that?" she asks, eyes wide.

"That is not my concern. You should have thought of that before repeating them," he says.

"I told you, Daisy," the girl with the chicken hisses. "You shouldn't say mean things about the queen. Especially because she used to be one of us!"

"Yes, sir," Daisy answers meekly.

"I'm willing to look the other way this one time, but see that it never happens again. Is that understood?" Leon asks, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Yes, sir," both girls respond.

"The king and queen are on their way back as we speak. See to it that their lunch is ready within the hour," he orders, heading back to the door.

"Yes, sir."

xXx

Mordred rides out, following the main road through the forest, heading in the direction of the king's party. He moves swiftly but not hurriedly, knowing they do not necessarily need an escort, but he's eager to see them. His curiosity has been piqued since Leon told him to shadow the queen two days ago.

He travels deeper into the woods where the trees are thicker and taller. He spies movement ahead, to the side of the road. What is that? He slows his horse a bit, studying the spot where he thought he saw a dark shape stirring in the bush.

A short distance away, Mordred stops his horse, dismounts, and advances on foot, his sword drawn. If it's a bandit, he's hoping to get the drop on him before the man pounces. He approaches and, again sees movement, this time accompanied by the faint, but familiar tingle of magic.

"Mordred," a recognizable voice greets him and Morgana steps out from behind a tree, smiling in a manner that would be considered sweet on a different face. On Morgana's, it looks serpentine.

All the warmth and kindness she had is completely gone, Mordred notes, re-sheathing his sword.

"Morgana. What are you doing here?" he asks.

"Waiting," she answers. "Look at you. A Knight of Camelot."

"Yes," he carefully answers, still trying to determine her true purpose for being in the woods.

"I expected better of you," she chides, tutting and shaking her head sadly.

"You expected me to join you in your twisted mission to destroy Arthur?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"We are of a kind, you and I," she says, angling her head at him. "My idiot brother doesn't understand what we have been through. The suffering of our people. He continues Uther's tyranny against magic," she sneers.

"You're wrong, Morgana. About so many things," Mordred says. "Arthur is not his father. And, you're not the person you used to be."

"That person was weak and shallow. I have power now. I should be on the throne, not him. I was nearly there, but now they've ruined my plans again!" she hisses, her hands balling into fists.

"You were nearly there?" Mordred gently presses, pieces sliding into place now. Follow the queen. Don't ask questions. Arthur, Guinevere, and Merlin leave Camelot suddenly and under false pretenses. Leon didn't tell Mordred they weren't really going on a romantic getaway, but he didn't have to.

"She was the best pawn I'd ever had. Certainly the cleverest. And now... now, she's no longer under my control!" Morgana growls. She looks at Mordred, at his young face and wide blue eyes, such a bright blue, just like when he was a boy, and calms herself. Her scowl twists into a smirk. "No matter. I've controlled her twice now; I will do it a third time. I will use her again and again until Arthur is dead."

She was somehow controlling Queen Guinevere! That explains everything... "Twice?" he asks, confused.

xXx

"I wonder if anyone will be meeting us," Merlin muses. "The scouts will have spotted us by now."

"I don't know," Arthur says. "But, perhaps we should stop a moment so you can return Guinevere's horse to her."

"Right," Merlin says and they stop. It would not do for the king's servant to be seen riding the queen's horse while the queen rides with the king, even though Guinevere and Arthur have thoroughly enjoyed cozily sharing a saddle.

Merlin dismounts and helps Guinevere down from Arthur's horse. As she is climbing up onto her horse, Merlin's head turns sharply skyward.

"What is it, Merlin?" Arthur asks.

A moment later, they hear the telltale shriek of Morgana's young dragon.

"Dragon," Merlin says. Damn it. He drops the satchel he was pulling from Guinevere's saddle and stands clear of the horses, watching.

Aithusa suddenly sweeps down from the sky, aiming straight at Guinevere, talons outstretched. Guinevere flinches, expecting to be snatched up. Arthur moves his horse closer to Guinevere, drawing his sword, ready to strike at the beast

Merlin raises his face, bellows a string of words in dragon-speak, and Aithusa abruptly pulls up, recoiling.

Arthur and Guinevere stare, agape with disbelief as the small, white dragon lands a distance away from them. Merlin marches purposefully over to her, his face angry.

He continues to speak in the strange language to the dragon, his voice stern at first, but gradually softening. Arthur watches, dumbfounded, as the dragon bows her head in remorse, not willing to meet Merlin's gaze, then nods.

"I'm sorry, Aithusa," Merlin softly says, returning to his normal speech and stepping closer to the now docile creature. He raises a hand and places it on her forehead. "I thought Kilgarrah was looking after you. I'll help you, I promise. You know I will."

She nods again and makes a small chirping noise, almost birdlike.

"Go, now. I will call for you later," Merlin says, gently rubbing Aithusa under her chin. "Do you understand?"

Aithusa nods and chirps once more. Then, she steps back, nods deferentially to Merlin, and pushes off the ground, taking to the sky again.

"Merlin?" Arthur asks.

Merlin is still as a statue, watching the dragon fly towards Camelot. Morgana must be waiting for us somewhere ahead.

"Merlin!" Arthur repeats.

"Yeah?" Merlin asks, looking at Arthur.

"What. Was that?"

"Oh. Um, yeah. That's another thing I haven't told you about," Merlin answers, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.

"You can speak to dragons?" Guinevere asks.

"Yes," Merlin sighs. "I'm, well... I'm kind of a dragonlord. The dragonlord, I guess. I'm the only one."

"Wait, wait..." Arthur says, furrowing his brow. "Didn't the last dragonlord die? That fellow... Balinor? Did he somehow give you his powers when he died?"

Merlin walks over to Arthur and Guinevere and continues unloading some of the supplies from the queen's horse. "Something like that," he says. "The power passes from father to son."

"The dragonlord was your father?" Guinevere asks.

"I didn't know he was my father until just before we left Camelot to find him," Merlin says, looking up at her. "He didn't know I existed. We had a few hours together, knowing we were father and son... then, he died."

"I'm so sorry, Merlin," Guinevere says.

"I'm sorry, too, Merlin," Arthur adds, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "And, I'm sorry I told you he didn't deserve your tears."

"You didn't know. And, I couldn't tell you," Merlin says, smiling a sad smile. "I got to spend more time with him than I ever thought I would. That's worth something."

"That's worth everything, Merlin," Guinevere says, reaching her hand down to him. He places his hand in hers, lightly squeezing.

"Thank you, Gwen," he says.

"What did you say to him?" Arthur asks.

"Hmm?"

"The dragon. What did you say to him?"

Merlin chuckles, gathering up his bags. "Her. Aithusa is a female," he says.

"I'll take your word for it," Arthur answers.

xXx

"Despite what you all think, your precious queen is not without fault," Morgana says, looking rather smug. "Ah, but you weren't in Camelot for the big scandal, were you? I'm sure you've heard about it. Knights are terrible gossips."

"I know the queen was banished for a time before her coronation, but no one is very willing to speak of it," Mordred says. Vaguely, he wonders why Morgana is telling him this, but figures if he can keep her talking, perhaps he can stave off whatever attack she is planning for Arthur and Guinevere this morning.

"She was caught kissing a knight of Camelot that was not her beloved Arthur. On the eve of their wedding, no less," Morgana says, grinning devilishly. "Dear, departed Sir Lancelot, returned from the dead with some half-baked story of how he survived walking into the veil between the worlds," she pauses, scoffing derisively. "He was a shade. I brought him back and sent him to woo her."

Mordred listens carefully, wondering if the king and queen know any of this and vowing to remember every word.

"You see, I know my brother's greatest weakness is his love for my former maid," she continues, smirking again. "Unfortunately, our little Gwen was truly over her infatuation with Lancelot, so I had to... help things along with the help of an enchanted bracelet. It worked out quite nicely."

"Guinevere still became queen," Mordred says, confused. "Arthur forgave her."

"I know. The imbecile forgave her," Morgana spits. "But, his devotion to her continues to be his downfall and I can still use it to my advantage." She looks up, tracking the sky, searching for something.

"What happened to the compassionate woman who protected me all those years ago?" Mordred asks.

"She was a fool! Now, I know the truth! Uther was a liar and a tyrant, and Arthur is no better! Can't you see, Mordred? Can't you see that magic will never be allowed in Camelot? You will always have to hide. You will always be forced to be ashamed of who you really are!" Her voice softens as she persists in her seduction of the young knight. "I would never make you feel like you have to hide your true self. You will be my chief knight, wiser and more powerful than that pathetic old lady Leon."

Mordred can't believe what he is hearing. The Morgana I knew is gone. This Morgana has been twisted by her hunger for power and a misplaced sense of entitlement. "You're wrong," Mordred says. "Arthur sees reason where his father never did. I've seen it. He is—"

Mordred's words are cut off by Aithusa's arrival. She lands in front of Morgana, but out of the witch's reach.

"Where… where is she? You didn't bring her to me!" Morgana gasps, surprised. "You must go back and try again! Do not fear them! If Arthur tries to get in your way, incinerate him!"

Aithusa drops her head, shakes it no and nervously steps back.

"Aithusa! What... no..." Morgana steps towards Aithusa and the dragon takes another step back, shaking her head again.

"I'm sorry I raised my voice, darling, I didn't mean to be cross with you." Morgana is pleading now, reaching out for the dragon, who keeps evading her grasp. "Please, just... go back and get me Gwen..."

Aithusa shakes her head a third time, makes a small screeching noise, and launches herself into the air, flying away.

"Aithusa!" Morgana yells into the air, watching her longtime companion fly away. She instinctively knows she will not see the dragon again and flies into a rage. "No!"

Mordred takes a step back, his hand reflexively moving to the handle of his sword, his magic defensively tingling in his fingertips as he prepares himself for any kind of attack.

Morgana shrieks, ear-splitting and otherworldly, and the trees around her tremble. A few leaves drop. She looks over at Mordred, her eyes pleading.

"No," Mordred whispers, answering her unasked question. He shakes his head, the movement slight, but definite.

Morgana screams again, her hands out at her sides, fingers spread like talons. She shrieks one more time, even louder. Mordred covers his ears and watches, wide-eyed, as the sorceress disappears in a whirlwind of dust and fallen leaves.

xXx

"Let's keep moving," Merlin says. "They'll be expecting us."

"Walk and talk, Merlin," Arthur orders.

They start moving. Merlin is quiet for a minute, sensing Arthur's impatience all the while, but ignoring it as he attempts to organize his thoughts.

"I told Aithusa she was not allowed to harm us ever again," Merlin says. "I told her to leave Morgana's company."

"You told her you would look after her," Guinevere supplies, remembering Merlin's words.

"Yes," Merlin nods. "Morgana is not going to be happy about it, but... I had to. It's my fault Aithusa is the way she is and I need to make it right."

"How is it your fault?" Arthur asks. Then, "Oh, no. The dragon egg for which we were searching. You said it was destroyed with the fortress, but... you took it, didn't you?"

"Yes," Merlin says. "I took it. As the only dragonlord, I couldn't allow it to be destroyed. I would not have been able to live with myself."

"So, what made it hatch after all that time?" Guinevere asks.

"I hatched it."

"You? Merlin, do you mean to tell me you sat on a dragon egg?" Arthur asks.

"Of course not," Merlin says, looking up at Arthur. "I called her forth and she hatched. I left her in Kilgarrah's care and apparently, he did not look after her the way I expected." Merlin frowns. "I should have ordered him. Stupid."

"You called her forth?" Guinevere repeats.

"Who is Kilgarrah? Another sorcerer?" Arthur asks, his question overlapping Guinevere's.

Merlin sighs. "I gave her a name and called her. That is what made her hatch." He looks at Arthur, addressing his question. "Kilgarrah is the Great Dragon. You didn't kill him, Arthur. I ordered him away," Merlin confesses, not looking at Arthur.

"Gaius told me the dragon lives, but would say no more about it," Arthur says. "I can't say I'm pleased, Merlin."

"I know and I'm sorry. Please believe me when I tell you he's been our ally since then. He helps me sometimes. He's helped you," Merlin says.

"How?"

"Torched most of Agravaine's men when they came looking for us in Ealdor, for one," Merlin says.

"Oh," Arthur says, surprised.

"I don't see him much anymore. He's very old and I think he's..."

"I'm sorry, Merlin," Guinevere says. Arthur looks over at her, puzzled. "He sounds like he's speaking of a friend, Arthur. A friend who is dying."

"Yes," Merlin nods. He abruptly stops walking.

"Merlin?"

"Don't you hear it?" Merlin asks. Shrieking. Anger. Hatred. Pain.

Morgana. Aithusa has just left her.

"Hear what?" Guinevere asks.

"Morgana. She's not taking Aithusa's departure well."

"Should we take a different road?" Arthur poses.

Merlin hears Morgana's final shriek. Then, a sense of calm settles over the forest. "No. She's gone. Fled, out of frustration and heartbreak."

"Are you absolutely sure?" Arthur presses. "She is most definitely the last person I want to see right now."

"Fairly sure," Merlin says. At Arthur's glare, he adds, "The forest is calm now. I don't feel like we're being watched anymore. That's the best I can do."

Arthur studies his servant a moment longer. "Very well."

xXx

"Mordred!" Arthur exclaims, seeing the young knight riding towards them.

"Sire," Mordred calls, nodding at them. "How was your journey?" he asks, choosing his words carefully now that he thinks he's figured out why they've gone.

"Very good, thank you," Arthur answers, stopping his horse. Mordred glances at Guinevere and is happy to see her smiling. When he was following her, one of the things he noticed was she smiled significantly less.

"My lady," he nods respectfully to her.

"Hello, Mordred. Thank you for coming to escort us home," she says.

"You're welcome, my lady." Mordred smiles at his queen. "Merlin," Mordred greets cheerfully.

"Sir Mordred," Merlin answers carefully.

"Come. I'm hungry," Arthur says, starting out again. Guinevere follows, with Mordred and Merlin bringing up the rear.

"Morgana was waiting for you." Mordred's voice enters Merlin's head. It startles the wizard a little, having been so long since they communicated thusly. He looks up at the knight and sees he is looking straight ahead, watching the road.

"I know. I heard her screams. Is she gone?" Merlin answers.

"I am not leading you into her grasp if that is what you are asking." Mordred looks down at Merlin, his expression hurt. "I would not do that to you. I wish you would believe me when I tell you I am your friend."

Merlin doesn't reply at first, conflicted as always. He wants to trust Mordred. He wants to believe him when he says he is loyal to Arthur. However, it is difficult to forget Kilgarrah's warnings.

"I want to trust you."

"Then, do." Mordred's simple answer makes it almost seem possible, as if Merlin can just turn a page and forget the previous chapter.

"What happened?"

"Her dragon abandoned her and she went mad. Vanished in a whirlwind."

"You're suddenly quiet back there, Merlin," Arthur calls over his shoulder.

"Tired, my lord," Merlin answers. Arthur grunts noncommittally and Merlin realizes Arthur knows he's lying.

"Is the queen better?" Mordred asks.

"Better than what?" Merlin carefully answers.

"I know there was something very wrong with her. Morgana said some things, but I had suspicions before that. Was the queen under some kind of spell?"

"Yes. She's been freed of Morgana's enchantment and is fully restored to herself."

"You're being intentionally evasive, but I understand. It is the business of the king and queen and you are loyal to them."

"Yes."

The castle comes into view and Merlin sighs audibly, happy to be home.

"One more question, Merlin."

Merlin looks up at Mordred. "You want to know how we lifted Gwen's enchantment."

"Yes. I know you must have done something, but how could you with Arthur there?"

"I told him. He knows."

Mordred gasps and Guinevere looks back at him. "Is something wrong, Sir Mordred?"

"No, no... sorry, my lady, I'm fine. Might have been stung by a bee..." he says, scrambling for a convenient lie. He even rubs his leg and attempts to look down at it, scowling.

"I'm sure Gaius will have something for that," she says.

"I'm sure," Mordred echoes. "Thank you, my lady." Recollecting his thoughts, he turns his focus back to Merlin. "He knows and you're still alive?"

"Yes. However, it is not to be made common knowledge while Morgana still lives. Only those closest to the king will be permitted to know."

Mordred frowns, unsure if he is a part of the king's inner circle.

"So, you have a decision to make, Mordred," Merlin adds. "I did not tell him about you."

"Thank you," Mordred says, surprised.

They pass through the gates into the courtyard where Leon is waiting. When he sees the smiles on the faces of the king and queen, the First Knight of Camelot breathes a sigh of relief.

Chapter Text

Arthur and Guinevere eat lunch alone in their chambers, still tired from their trip and wishing for some quiet. After lunch, Guinevere called for a hot bath followed by rest, so Merlin and Arthur left her in the care of her maids and headed to Gaius' rooms.

"You know, for being king, it's bloody difficult to find a place to speak to anyone privately," Arthur observes while they walk. "Well, except for Guinevere, obviously, that's what the royal chambers are for, but if I want to talk to anyone else, it's all big meeting rooms and grand halls."

"That's why we're going to Gaius' quarters," Merlin says. "It's not just a good place to sneak a nap, you know."

Arthur lightly shoves Merlin's shoulder and Merlin startles, surprised and pleased that the king seems to be returning to his old ways around him.

He opens the door and Arthur strides inside. "Hello, Gaius," he greets the physician.

"My lord," Gaius answers, smiling. "I hear everything went well and the queen is restored to herself once again."

"Yes, thankfully," Arthur sighs heavily, plopping onto a chair. "I never want to have to deal with something like that again."

"No one should have to deal with something like that," Merlin comments. He sits near Arthur.

"How is she?" Gaius asks, stepping over from a table where he is preparing some potions. He had gotten some information from Merlin when they first returned, but it was very brief.

"Tired and heartsick, but good," Arthur says. "She ate heartily at lunch and is having a bath now, then she plans on resting until dinner."

"Should I look in on her in a little while?" Gaius asks.

"I think that would be a good idea," Arthur agrees.

Gaius nods and returns to his task, letting the two younger men talk.

"So, Merlin. What other secrets do you have?" Arthur asks, cocking his head.

"What do you want to know?" Merlin asks.

Arthur gives him an incredulous look. "Well, you're the one that knows what magic you've used, not me, Merlin."

Merlin half-shrugs, acknowledging Arthur is right. It would be easier if he would simply ask questions, but he does have a point. He looks over and sees Arthur's sword, still on the table from two days ago. "That sword."

"Right, you did say something about this," Arthur says, reaching for it. "It's the finest weapon I've ever used. I've ever seen, in fact." He lifts the sword and inspects it, noting its perfect balance and weight, the way the handle feels designed for his hand, and how the blade never seems to need sharpening. "It's perfect."

"It was forged in a dragon's breath," Merlin says. "Kilgarrah burnished the blade with his fire."

Arthur looks at Merlin. "What does that mean?"

"It means that it is a near-invincible weapon. Your father wielded it to defeat the Black Knight sent by Nimueh. I wielded it against the undead army Morgause made using the Cup of Life. It is an immortal blade." He looks at Arthur. "That means it has the power kill that which is already dead."

Arthur blinks, shocked and a little impressed.

"Kilgarrah blessed the blade for you and you alone. Uther never should have used this sword," Merlin continues.

"Well, what about you? You've used it twice now," Arthur asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Special dispensation," Merlin replies, dismissively waving his hand. "Besides, I was using it to help you. I got you the sword; I can wield it. Even though it is yours."

Arthur raises an eyebrow at him. "So, the dragon made this..." he muses, looking it over again.

"I didn't say the dragon made it, Arthur. He just... enhanced it."

"Who crafted it then? I haven't seen craftsmanship this fine since..."

"Since Gwen's father was alive?" Merlin asks pointedly.

"Guinevere's father made this?" Arthur asks. "Does she know?"

"She gave it to me. I don't know if she's noticed this is that sword though. She's never mentioned it," Merlin says, furrowing his brows.

Arthur looks at the weapon with new eyes knowing this sword was crafted by the father of the woman he loves so dearly. The man whose wrongful death he could have prevented. "He was a master," Arthur softly says. "I still feel..."

"I know, Arthur. But, Gwen forgave you long ago. Don't you think it's time you forgive yourself?" Merlin asks.

"I should," Arthur sighs with a slight nod of his head. "Sorry, we're getting off track here. How did this sword get into that boulder if Father first used it all those years ago?"

"Well, after Uther killed the Black Knight, well, re-killed him, I threw it into the lake at Avalon. I had to get it away from your father, so I stole it and snuck out in the middle of the night."

"You had to get it away from my father? Surely, if it was meant for me, you could have just given it to me," Arthur theorizes.

"And explained it how exactly? 'Here's the sword your father used to kill that creepy knight. It's really supposed to be yours, but you can't use it right now because if he sees it he'll want it back and he can't have it because it'll only bring evil in his hands.'? Yes, that would have worked very well," Merlin answers.

"Good point," Arthur allows. He cocks his head at Merlin. "What do you mean, 'it'll only bring evil in his hands'?"

"I wasn't sure myself, at first. It's just what Kilgarrah said, so I accepted it. I was very young then, obviously," Merlin says, glancing over at Gaius when he hears the elderly man's soft snort of amused derision. "But, as I've gotten older, I've realized that power can corrupt. Your sword isn't just a sword, Arthur. It has power. And that's why, in the wrong hands, even your father's, it will only bring evil."

"Oh. Um... oh," Arthur mutters, surprised and touched that the dragon had so much faith in him, even at such a young age.

"You're going to have to get used to the fact that I'm actually smart, Arthur. Sorry." Then, he grins, not sorry at all.

Arthur snorts. "Continue. It was in the lake and you got it out?"

"Yeah. Um, I had help there. I'm not going to tell you everything about that, because it's... well, it's not important right now. Plus, it's... personal."

"Merlin, you know all my personal details," Arthur presses.

Merlin bites his lower lip and looks to the side. Gaius glances at him out of the corner of his eye. He's been listening the entire time, but has said nothing.

"I'll tell you another time. It's not relevant right now," Merlin says. "I will," he adds when he sees Arthur's skeptical look. "It involves a girl, all right? She died, my heart broke, and now her spirit inhabits the lake. She, um, gave me the sword back. From the lake."

Arthur is quiet for a moment. "I'm sorry, Merlin. I wouldn't have pressed if I had known."

"You couldn't have known," Merlin says. "It's all right. I'll tell you more about her another time," he adds, wanting to get back on track.

"Right. So this... girl... gave you the sword so you could defeat Morgause."

"Well, I didn't use the sword to defeat Morgause. I used it to fight my way past her soldiers so I could get to the Cup and stop her army. Then, I hurled her into a stone pillar."

"You fought? You?"

Merlin rolls his eyes. "I'm not completely useless and you know it. Plus, Lancelot was with me," he says without thinking.

"Lancelot?"

"Um, yeah. He knew. Sorry." Open your big mouth, Merlin. He glances back at Gaius and sees the old physician just slightly shaking his head.

"Hmm," Arthur says. He says nothing for a moment. "I'm not sure how I feel about that, but as he's dead, there's really no point in worrying about it."

"Uh, right," Merlin answers, thrown off guard by Arthur's acceptance of this information. He quickly resumes his story. "As for the sword, I promised Kilgarrah I would hide it again, before you ask," he presses on. "That's when I plunged it into the boulder."

"So... all that talk about my being the true and worthy King of Camelot..." Arthur says, frowning. "You put the sword there... you made up that story... it was all rubbish..." His fingers tighten around the handle of the weapon as he realizes he was deceived – again – and his anger starts to rise.

"No, Arthur, it wasn't rubbish," Merlin quickly says, watching Arthur carefully. "Camelot needed you. Your confidence was gone; you had no feeling of self-worth or self-preservation. You were still smarting over Agravaine's betrayal, still heartbroken over Gwen – yes, I will talk about that," he says, holding his hand up before Arthur can yell at him for bringing up that topic. "It was a factor and you know it as well as I."

"Go on," Arthur says. He's relaxing a bit, but he's still not convinced he wasn't duped.

"You were as low as I'd ever seen you, Arthur. I couldn't just let things be. I had to do something. I'm sorry about the... deception, but I think the end justified the means, don't you?"

Arthur slowly nods, grudgingly admitting Merlin is right.

"The sword was a just symbol, you see? The act of pulling it out of the boulder was a device to bring you back to yourself, to help you remember who you are and what your purpose is. The declarations of loyalty from the knights didn't do it. My wonderfully inspirational words didn't do it."

Arthur snorts at this and Merlin smiles.

"You needed something more. Something you believed came from within you," Merlin continues.

"But, it didn't come from within me. You did it."

"Yes, I helped you withdraw the sword from the boulder. But, only when you believed you could do it. I've been your personal manservant for... far too long, Arthur," he chuckles. "I know your moods, sometimes before you do. I could see when you were truly ready to step up and take charge again. My magical assistance in the matter does not change the facts. That sword," he points to the blade still gripped in Arthur's hand, "was indeed meant for you. You were simply claiming it. In a very dramatic way. In front of most of your subjects."

Arthur half-smiles. "It was a pretty impressive sight, wasn't it?" he allows.

"I would have been impressed if I wasn't me," Merlin says.

Arthur laughs.

xXx

"Leon," Arthur calls, spotting the knight as he walks back to the royal chambers.

"My lord," Leon answers, striding quickly over to his king. "I've been looking for you."

"I know, I know, I promised I'd let you know what's going on and I will. I'd like you to arrange a private dinner tonight. Closed doors."

"Of course, my lord," Leon says, furrowing his brows.

"I'd like you, Gwaine, Percival, and Mordred to dine with Guinevere, Merlin, and myself. We have much to discuss."

"Merlin?" Leon asks, growing more confused by the moment.

"I know it's unconventional, but he's to be dining with us tonight, not serving. It is he who has the most information to impart."

"Um, Sire, about the servants at this dinner..." Leon says, recalling the conversation on which he walked in that morning.

"We should only need one or two," Arthur says waving his hand dismissively.

"No, it's not that. There has been some... disloyalty amongst some of them lately. It has been dealt with, so you do not need to concern yourself, but it might be best to dismiss the servants after they bring the food. If this dinner is to be, as you say, private, perhaps we can make do without servants," Leon says.

"What kind of disloyalty? Anything involving Morgana?" Arthur asks, fearing his sister has spies placed within the castle.

"No," Leon definitively answers.

"Gossip, then," Arthur guesses.

"Yes, my lord."

Arthur sighs and shakes his head. "There are a few things that are always true, Leon. The sun always rises in the east. Everyone dies. And, servants will gossip."

"You're taking this rather well, Arthur," Leon says, not bothering to hide his surprise.

"Well, recent events have forced me to examine my priorities," Arthur says, clapping Leon on the shoulder. "Dinner, then. As you recommend."

"Yes, Sire. I will arrange it," Leon nods and heads in the direction of the knights' quarters.

xXx

"I bloody knew there was something about you, Merlin!"

Gwaine is the first to break the heavy silence that falls over the room after Merlin tells the four knights he is a sorcerer. The rakish knight's sudden, exuberant declaration makes Guinevere jump slightly.

Merlin tries unsuccessfully to bite back his grin, shaking his head at Gwaine's tendency to be so cheeky about everything. He knows it's just a front to disguise the fact that he truly is a good man, noble by his deeds (as well as his birth), and suspects the others recognize this as well.

"Arthur?" Leon looks at his king, confused at first. "Wait. Oh, okay. I understand now," he reasons after he's had a moment to think. Gwen was enchanted. Merlin saved her. That's why he is sitting here with us instead of in the dungeons.

Mordred tactfully says nothing, feigning ignorance as planned. He's decided if asked for his opinion, he will play the "I'm new here" card and stick to it.

Percival also says nothing, but being a man of few words, no one thinks anything of it. He listens intently to everything, absorbing it all, only speaking if he has something worth saying.

"Merlin has done a great service to Camelot and to the queen and me," Arthur explains, reaching over and squeezing Guinevere's hand. "That is why he is not being punished."

"What did he do?" Gwaine asks.

Arthur tells them about Guinevere's enchantment, occasionally aided by Merlin and Guinevere, and how Merlin was able to bring her out of it with Arthur's help.

"That's why you had me following her," Mordred says, speaking for the first time. "You wanted to make sure she didn't do anything."

"Yes," Arthur nods.

"I'd done enough already," Guinevere adds softly. "I tried to kill Arthur twice. So I'm told."

"That was your doing?" Leon asks, stunned. "You even blamed Merlin for..." he stops, realizing he may be overstepping. "Forgive me. I'm merely trying to process all this. I should not have spoken out of turn."

"It's fine, Leon, really. I have almost no memory of the things I did during those days. I... I didn't even remember about Elyan."

"I'm so sorry, Gwen," Leon says, uncharacteristically calling her by name.

"I know, thank you. And I think, right now, we can all agree that speaking freely is for the best, yes?" she asks. "I would hate to have any of you misunderstand something because he was afraid to speak up."

"Guinevere's right," Arthur says. "We needn't observe formalities here. Please, speak your minds."

"Show us," Percival softly says, looking at Merlin. "I would like to see you do something with your magic. Please."

"Yes," Gwaine agrees, setting his mug on the table with a thud. "Dazzle us, Wizard," he orders, waving his hand in what he likely thinks is a mystical fashion.

"All right," Merlin says. He looks around the table, thinking. Fixing the candles in the center in his gaze, he lifts his hand, and the flames lift away from the candles, hovering several inches above them. On a whim, he rearranges the flames before he lets them drop back into place.

"Nice," Gwaine nods.

Percival also nods his head approvingly. "You didn't even look like you were trying," he observes.

"Something like that takes very little effort," Merlin says. "Or this." He waves his hand at Gwaine's mug and it refills.

"Hey, brilliant," Gwaine says.

"Don't do that again," Arthur tells Merlin. Gwaine scowls and the other knights chuckle.

"I can do little, everyday things like that almost without thinking. I couldn't always. I've gotten stronger as I've gotten older," Merlin says. He and Arthur agreed the knights don't need to know all the details, so he tries to keep his comments just specific enough to not be deliberately vague. "They don't need to know about you being the most powerful wizard that ever lived, Merlin. I think we need to keep that well under wraps," Arthur had said. "Big things, like what I did for Gwen yesterday tire me out quite a bit."

"What other big things have you done?" Gwaine asks, leaning forward, intensely curious.

"My lady, how are you feeling?" Mordred asks, steering the topic in a different direction when he sees the look that passes between Merlin and Arthur. He meets Merlin's eyes. "You don't want them to know everything. That's probably wise."

Merlin gives him an almost imperceptible nod, then turns his attention to Gwen.

"I'm..." she pauses a moment, "exhausted, really. But, I've had a lovely, quiet afternoon and Gaius looked in on me and pronounced me to be in good health. I think I just need some more rest before I can truly start to deal with what's happened to me and the things I did while I was enchanted."

"It must be very unsettling, not knowing what you did for more than a week," Leon says.

"Quite," Guinevere agrees. "Especially because everything I've learned has been bad. I suppose that's to be expected as I was under Morgana's control, but... well, you remember, Leon. How I would fret over the smallest thing? The time I accidentally knocked over that candlestick while I was helping Mother at your family's home and the candle snapped in two? I was beside myself, and your mother was so kind. She acted like it was nothing."

Leon smiles, nodding. "Yes, you were nearly in tears," he remembers.

"My mother was a maid in Leon's family home. I spent a lot of time there as a child," Guinevere explains, seeing the puzzled looks on the other knights' faces.

"Oh, that explains a lot," Gwaine nods. "I always wondered why the two of you were so close."

"My parents allowed me to play with Gwen and Elyan when we were children," Leon shrugs. "Not all nobles are bad," he pointedly adds, looking directly at Gwaine.

"I'm learning that," the knight answers.

"So, you have no memory at all from that time?" Percival asks.

"Not really. Sometimes I get vague flashes. I think. I dreamt of Elyan and woke up screaming his name. When I told Arthur about my dream, he told me that was exactly what had happened. Gaius has mentioned that I might have more dreams for a while. I shudder to think of what I might have done that no one knows about other than Morgana," she says, reaching for her goblet. Her eyes widen as she lifts it to her lips, as though she's realizing something. Her hand pauses in midair, hovering for a moment. She gasps softly and sets it down.

"Guinevere?" Arthur asks, concerned. "Are you… are you remembering something?"

"Yes, but… it's not a recent memory," she says, her voice hushed. She looks at Arthur, takes a deep breath, presses her lips together, and continues. "I just realized… the last time I felt like this, like there is this... blur... in place of memories was..." Gwen's voice drops to a whisper. "It was when Lancelot returned." She looks down at her plate, cringing inwardly at bringing up this topic.

"Well, that was because of the bracelet though, right? They're probably similar enchantments. This one was just more powerful," Mordred says.

"What?" Guinevere, Arthur and Merlin all chorus, looking at the young knight with shocked expressions on their faces.

Mordred stares back at the three sets of surprised eyes. He realizes the other three knights are staring at him in disbelief as well. "You... you didn't know? Oh, no." His hand comes up over his mouth, horrified. She didn't know about the bracelet. She thinks she truly was unfaithful to Arthur. No wonder it isn't discussed.

"Mordred... how do you know about the bracelet Lancelot gave me?" Gwen asks, her trembling voice barely audible.

He swallows. "Morgana told me. When I rode out to meet you, Morgana was lying in wait and I intercepted her. She... she was angry you had broken free of her control, but said she'd controlled you one other time and could do it again."

"She told you this?" Arthur asks, incredulous.

"I was trying to keep her talking, my lord, so she wouldn't attack," Mordred says. "People like her... they like to hear themselves talk. It makes them feel important. So, I kept asking questions."

Arthur nods, impressed with the young knight's intelligence. "What else did she say?"

"She told me about... Lancelot, how he returned. She brought him back from the dead as her puppet, intending to tempt Queen Guinevere with whom she believed to be her long-lost," he cringes almost imperceptibly, uncomfortable, "love. But, Morgana didn't realize the queen no longer had any feelings for Lancelot, and had to take other measures. She somehow got you to wear an enchanted bracelet, my lady, and it must have created feelings where there were none."

"Lancelot gave it to me. He said it was a wedding gift and would bring me luck," Guinevere whispers, shaken at this revelation.

"Morgana would have passed it to Lancelot through Agravaine," Merlin says.

"Merlin," Arthur asks, his voice low and slightly tremulous, "did you know?"

Merlin looks at Arthur and Guinevere. Guinevere looks truly shocked as she struggles with the realization that not only had she been under Morgana's control once before, but she did not knowingly betray Arthur.

Arthur looks ready to kill someone. His jaw is set and his eyes are stormy.

"I did not know about the bracelet, no," Merlin answers.

"But you knew something," Arthur presses.

"I knew the Lancelot who returned was not truly our Lancelot. I didn't know how to tell you without revealing myself, as I had to use magic to prove it," he says. "I became suspicious when he didn't know things he should have. He had no memory of my having magic."

"Lancelot knew?" Leon asks quietly.

"Yes. He saw it the first time he was here, years ago," Merlin says. He looks over at the king, concerned. "Arthur?"

"Don't talk to me right now," Arthur answers, holding his hand up. "I... I can't..." He drops his head for a moment, then looks at Guinevere. "I'm so sorry," he whispers.

"You have nothing for which to apologize, Arthur," Guinevere answers, her voice equally soft and shaky. "We didn't realize. None of us did."

"I should have known you would never... I mean, you're you. You would never do anything like the things you did under her control. It's happened twice and twice I didn't even consider…" he slams his palm flat on the tabletop. "Damn it, we blame magic for every other bad thing that happens around here!" Arthur yells. He clenches his fist, trying to regain his composure. When he continues, his voice is low again, but still slightly wavering. He looks at Guinevere and sees tears in her eyes, tears for him. "I should be smart enough to realize that when you are acting differently, you of all people, who I know better than anyone... I should discern that when you're not acting like yourself it means something is very wrong!"

"Arthur, we've been through this. Morgana is careful and clever," Guinevere says, gently taking his hand in between both of hers. She seems composed, but her hands are trembling slightly.

"That is what makes her dangerous, Arthur," Merlin says. "She thinks of all the angles, she knows us all too well, and she uses that information to her advantage."

"Does she know about your magic?" Gwaine asks.

"No. That's why this dinner is private, without any servants. As long as Morgana lives, my magic must remain a secret," Merlin says. He glances at Arthur and Gwen and sees them sitting very close together, their foreheads touching, whispering to each other, Gwen's hand on his cheek, her thumb stroking lovingly.

"Secret weapon," Percival says, nodding. "If she doesn't know, she won't target you. Which is just as well. If she takes you out, it's over. For all of us," he finishes and looks at his brothers-in-arms. Leon, Gwaine and Mordred nod in silent agreement.

Merlin nods as well. "She cannot know," he reiterates, glancing pointedly at Mordred.

"She does not know. I promise. We keep each other's secrets, Emrys."

"Thank you, Mordred."

xXx

After dinner, Arthur and Guinevere retire to their chambers, still shaken, wondering how many more secrets will come to light.

Arthur glances at a small stack of parchments on his desk, undoubtedly left there for him by Leon. He sighs and turns away from them, deciding there's nothing in that pile so important it can't be ignored until tomorrow. At the earliest. Guinevere's well-being is my main concern.

He dismissed Merlin for the night, but not out of anger. Arthur is angrier with himself than anyone right now. Merlin had simply nodded, saying something about attempting to track down the bracelet, even though over three years have passed since Guinevere hurled it into the corner of her cell.

He stands by the window, gazing out over the torchlit courtyard while Guinevere's maid, Ella, helps her prepare for bed. He can hear their soft voices behind him, but he's not listening.

It all makes so much sense now. I was such a fool. So blinded by my hurt that I was unable to see what was right in front of me. My own insecurity about Lancelot, my own jealousy of the feelings she once had for him, clouded my judgment. I thought I had let go of them, but they were still there. They've been there since we rescued her from Hengist.

Arthur sighs, his heart heavy. She never gave me any reason to doubt her love after Lancelot turned up again to help, this time bringing Percival with him. I saw the longing glances he gave her, but I wouldn't let myself see that she never returned them. I tried to believe her words at his pyre, how she blamed herself for his death because she asked him to protect me, but I still wondered.

He stops, staring up at the moon, large and bright in the sky.

She asked him to protect me.

The words never sunk in before. Guinevere's request told Lancelot who her choice was once and for all. I had no reason to be insecure. If I had been able to get past that, to see what was right in front of me, I might have seen all this and maybe, just maybe would have suspected dark magic.

Unfortunately, there's no way of truly knowing.

He hears Ella bid her mistress goodnight and turns, setting his gaze on his beautiful wife. As much as he loves seeing her stunningly arrayed in her queenly finery, he prefers her in soft, comfortable attire. The kinds of simple things she wore when he fell in love with her. Guinevere the queen makes his heart swell with pride. Guinevere the woman makes his heart swell with love.

Her nightdresses are lovely and fine, but they are simple and unrestrictive. Arthur loves to hold her close at night, allowing his hands to rove...

"You look beautiful, my love," he says, snapping himself out of his reverie. He walks towards her.

"It's just a nightgown, Arthur," she says, smiling and holding her hands out to him. He takes them and kisses them both, then pulls her into his embrace.

"I know. You always look beautiful and I should always tell you," he says, kissing her hair.

"You do," she says, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezing him. She pulls back and looks up at him. "Are you all right, Arthur?"

He smiles sadly. "Not really. Are you?"

"Not really." She returns his sad smile, then lifts her face as he lowers his, meeting his lips in a soft kiss.

"I should change clothes," he says, kissing her once more before releasing her. He walks behind the changing screen to retrieve his sleeping trousers and change while Guinevere extinguishes most of the candles.

She slides into bed, leaving just two candles lit for Arthur. He emerges a minute later, clad only in his soft black trousers, and joins his wife in bed, blowing out the final candle just before he curls himself around her with a sigh.

Guinevere snuggles into him, turning to lie facing him. He adjusts so she can rest her head on his shoulder. "Much better than the hard ground," she absently comments.

"Much," Arthur agrees.

They are both tired. Tired of talking about enchantments and Morgana and magic and bracelets and secrets. But, as they lie there silently, absorbing one another, happy to be home even with a cloud over that happiness, Guinevere thinks of one more question.

"Arthur," she says, her fingers lightly caressing his chest, idly toying with the light hair covering it, "when I was enchanted, did we..." she leaves the question hanging and looks up at him.

It only takes a couple of seconds for Arthur to catch her meaning. "Oh. Um, just once."

"Only once?" she asks. We are normally much... busier... than once in nearly two weeks' time.

"Yes," Arthur answers. "I didn't really think much of it, as you had just been through an ordeal and, um, Elyan..." Guinevere nods understandingly and he continues. "I was content to wait until you were ready."

"That makes sense," Guinevere says. "I wonder if Morgana took that into account."

"I hope not," Arthur says, sounding mildly disgusted. "I'd really rather not think about her thinking about us that way."

Guinevere chuckles a little, hooking her leg over one of his. "I must have behaved fairly, um, normally, or you definitely would have noticed," she comments, frowning slightly. Morgana may know a lot about me, but that's one thing about which she knows nothing of my behavior.

"I did think about that," Arthur confesses, his hand slowly sliding up and down her upper arm while she traces patterns on his chest with her fingers. "I believe you were, um, a bit more aggressive than usual, but... I likely just attributed that to the fact that we hadn't been together in a while."

She takes a deep breath and slowly releases it, closing her eyes. "I... I think I remember, actually," she says a moment later.

"You do?" Arthur asks.

"I think so. I remember..." she pauses, squeezing her eyes shut tightly, "gillyflowers?"

"Yes," Arthur breathes. "What else?"

"You... you picked me up."

"Yes…" he answers, prompting her to remember more.

"I remember... you smelled of soap from your bath. You... kissed my toes?"

"I did," he nods, looking down at her, "all ten of them."

She thinks some more, unconsciously shifting even closer to him as his hand slides from her arm to her hip. "We... we definitely enjoyed ourselves," she finally says, feeling her cheeks heat as the memory becomes clearer.

"We always do," he says, kissing her forehead as a thought comes to him. "Guinevere, I think the reason you remember so much of this is because I was reaching the real you that night, the real Guinevere buried underneath the layers of Morgana's enchantment."

"That does make sense," she says, kissing his chest. "It almost seems it would be unavoidable, actually. Sharing our marriage bed, being as close as two people can be. The real me would emerge under those circumstances, even if only a little bit."

Arthur smiles, his hand lightly caressing her hip, feeling how the silk of her nightdress slides between his hand and her skin. Guinevere's hand stills on his chest, her palm flat over his heart, pressing down slightly as she leans up to kiss his neck.

"I love you so much, Arthur," she whispers, kissing his jaw.

He turns his face towards her and kisses her lips before she can retreat. "I love you, too, Guinevere," he mutters against her lips.

Guinevere's hand slides up into his hair and she opens her mouth for him, inviting him in, her soft, warm tongue enticing him to meet her. Her hand moves to his shoulder, pulling him over her, wanting him closer, wanting more.

"Guinevere," Arthur asks tearing his lips away, "are you sure you want…?"

"Yes, Arthur," she answers, kissing him softly. "Yes, I want this. I need you right now, Love."

Arthur's heart fills to bursting with love and desire for her, his Guinevere, his wife. His lips meet hers once more and his hand slides up to cover one warm, perfectly-sized breast.

"Arthur…"

Chapter Text

Merlin quietly knocks on the doors to the royal chambers the next morning, breakfast in hand, as if today was just another day in Camelot.

Because, as far as anyone else knows, it is.

However, he's taken by surprise when Arthur opens the door instead of just bidding him enter. He immediately puts his fingers to his lips, indicating Merlin should be quiet.

"Is she still sleeping?" Merlin whispers, setting the large tray on the table with hardly a sound. He glances at the thick curtains separating the living quarters from the sleeping quarters.

"Yes, and I am content to let her sleep as long as she needs," Arthur answers. He walks over to the curtains and peeks through the split, checking on his wife. Again. "Part of me is still afraid she's going to wake up enchanted yet again ," he says.

"She won't," Merlin says. He knows Arthur's concern does not come from a lack of confidence in Merlin's abilities and takes no offense. "I will do everything I can to ensure Morgana will not harm her again. I promise."

"Thank you, Merlin," Arthur says, sitting at the table. He sits at the end closest to the closed curtains, which is the opposite end from where he usually sits, so Merlin has to move the tray.

"Did she sleep all right? No nightmares?"

"I believe so," Arthur says, holding up his hand when Merlin starts to serve him. He'll wait for Guinevere. "I didn't hear her cry out. She didn't seem agitated at any point."

"Arthur, did you sleep?" Merlin asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Some," Arthur admits. "I'll rest when she's better. I will have some water, please."

"You'll be of no use to her or anyone else if you're not rested," Merlin points out, pouring water into a goblet. "Plus, you get cranky and are quicker to throw things at me when you haven't had enough sleep."

Arthur snorts. "You're probably right. About not being able to help Guinevere, I mean, not about throwing things."

"I'm right about that, too," Merlin says. Then, he yawns.

It's Arthur's turn to raise a questioning eyebrow at Merlin.

"I had a late night myself," Merlin says. "I didn't get anywhere on the bracelet yet, but I talked to Aithusa last night."

"The dragon?" Arthur asks.

Merlin nods, sitting at the table beside Arthur. "Poor thing. I feel just awful about it." He shakes his head. "Never assume anything."

"What?"

"I assumed Kilgarrah would look after her. Guide her. Teach her. I assumed she would be like him." He looks at Arthur, his expression pained. "I could have ordered Kilgarrah to take care of her, and I didn't. Because I didn't know if I should. I didn't know if it would be an abuse of my power."

"Um, Merlin," Arthur says, tapping his chin thoughtfully, "isn't that why you have that power and authority? Aren't you supposed to look after the dragons?"

Merlin nods, surprised at Arthur's insight, especially concerning something magical.

"If there's one thing I know in all my years leading men into battle, it's what you said earlier: never assume anything. Sometimes you have to state the obvious to make sure everyone understands."

"And even then, you'll still have a few people who don't," Merlin adds, chuckling.

"In simple terms, there's no such thing as idiot-proof plan, because there's no accounting for every form of idiocy," Arthur simply states, leaning back in his chair. He glances back towards the curtains again.

"Right," Merlin agrees. "So, now I'm trying to make things right. I've got her safely hidden, don't worry about that," he says. "No one is going to happen upon her while hunting or on patrol."

"Where is she?"

Merlin thinks a minute. "I don't think I should tell you," he decides. "For your safety, not hers. Aithusa is the one being about whom Morgana cares, remember."

Arthur nods, disappointed but comprehending Merlin's reasoning.

"Perhaps one day she'll be able to roam free," Merlin muses. "Anyway, I think we understand each other. She can't speak, but I'm going to try to help her with that."

"So... what's his name? Kilgarrah? He can speak?" Arthur asks.

"Yes. He doesn't always answer questions directly and I think he enjoys being cryptic, but he can speak just as plainly as you or I," Merlin says.

"Huh," Arthur says. It never occurred to him that a beast like that would be able to converse.

"Aithusa is starting to trust me, I think. She's still skittish, but knows I won't hurt her and I promised I'd take good care of her. She even let me give her a little hug."

Arthur makes a puzzled, slightly disgusted face.

"She's young, Arthur. Just a child. She needs love and guidance right now."

"I know that," Arthur comments. "Just... hugging a dragon seems... odd."

"I've ridden Kilgarrah," Merlin says, goading him now. "Twice." Arthur narrows his eyes in skepticism. Merlin continues. "It's like traveling on a great flying horse."

"Be serious, Merlin. I don't believe for one second—"

"Arthur?" Guinevere's soft voice comes from behind the curtain.

"Right here, my love," Arthur answers, standing.

"I'll go fetch Ella, then, shall I?" Merlin asks as Arthur reaches the curtains.

"Yes, thank you," Arthur says, disappearing. "Good morning, Love ," he says, reaching for her dressing gown.

Guinevere greets him with a sleepy smile. "Good morning," she says as he bends to kiss her forehead.

Merlin has their breakfast set up by the time Guinevere emerges, dressed and looking tired but still radiant. "Good morning, Merlin," she greets him with a smile.

"Good morning, my lady," he answers. "How are you?"

"I've been better, but I've also been worse," she sighs, sitting in the chair he is holding out for her and granting him a small smile as he slides her in.

"Yes, you're here, you're safe, and you're yourself," Merlin nods.

"Thanks to both of you," she says, reaching for Arthur's hand. He takes her hand and lifts it to his lips. "Arthur, you're not eating," she observes. "You're still troubled."

"Yes, I am," he admits.

"So am I," she agrees. "Please try to eat though. Going hungry will not solve our problems."

Arthur takes a bite of his food, chewing thoughtfully. "Guinevere, I would like to talk about Lancelot," he says. "About what happened... then. With the bracelet."

"I think that is a good idea," Guinevere says.

"I'll leave you two alone," Merlin says, heading for the door.

"No, Merlin, please stay," Guinevere says. "You may be of some help to us."

"Arthur?" Merlin automatically defers to the king.

"You heard the queen, you don't need my approval," Arthur says, smirking slightly.

"Please, sit," Guinevere says. "Have you eaten? Have some food."

"Thank you," Merlin says, taking a few morsels of meat, bread, and fruit.

"Guinevere, I'm sorry. For so much," Arthur starts. Guinevere starts to protest again, and Arthur gently raises his hand, asking her to let him continue. "I need to say this. I'm sorry for banishing you. I'm sorry for not considering that the change in your behavior was caused by an outside influence. And, I'm sorry we never talked about it after you returned. It was wrong of me. Well, it was all wrong, but I shouldn't have declared that we simply sweep everything under the carpet and pretend it never happened. It did happen, and instead of hiding, we should have dealt with it and our feelings."

Guinevere is quiet a moment. She delicately dabs her eyes with her napkin and says, "Thank you, Arthur. You know I understood your actions regarding the banishment. You acted mercifully when you could have had me executed. And, I cannot fault you for not considering that dark magic was at work, because I didn't suspect it myself."

"I fear I should be the one apologizing for that," Merlin says. "I knew Lancelot was not his true self. But... even I did not suspect Morgana's influence had reached as far as it had."

"Why were we all so content to think Guinevere succumbed to temptation?" Arthur sharply asks. "She has always acted above reproach in everything. Why was it so easy to believe that she would just... fall like that?"

"Because it was the only explanation available to any of us," Guinevere says, her voice nearly a whisper. "Once I had that bracelet off..." she looks at Arthur. "I tore it from my wrist and cast it into the corner of my cell seconds after I was locked in," she explains. "As soon as it was off, this... cloud of confusion seemed to lift. I knew what I had done. But, for the life of me, I could not fathom why. I loved you. Only you. I have only ever loved you, Arthur."

"You have?" Arthur asks.

"Yes. I never loved Lancelot. It was... an infatuation, nothing more. It may have grown into something deeper, had either of us given it the opportunity, but... my heart has always belonged to you, Arthur, even when I thought we could never be," she explains, holding his hand on the tabletop.

Arthur leans over and ardently kisses her, overcome with emotions.

"Tell me more, please, Love," he says. "Tell me what you remember. All of it. Please."

"I remember... when Lancelot took off his helmet and revealed himself to me at the tournament... I remember being very confused." She looks at Merlin. "You said he sacrificed himself to the veil to close it, to save us all from those... things."

"He did. I saw him," Merlin answers.

"And... then, the guilt. The guilt I felt over his death came back. I tried to feel relieved that he wasn't dead, but he still did it. Still sacrificed himself because I asked him to protect you, Arthur."

"He may have done so even if you had asked nothing of him," Merlin says. "It would not have been out of the realm of possibility, you have to admit."

"Perhaps," Guinevere says.

"Lancelot and I spoke of you. Before he died. Died the first time, I mean," Merlin said. "When he was to take me back to Gaius to heal me from the Dorocha's attack, we spoke of you."

"You did?" Guinevere asks. Arthur looks very intrigued by this as well.

"I asked him quite directly if he still thought fondly of you," Merlin says.

"Merlin!" Guinevere gasps, slightly shocked at her friends forwardness with such an issue.

"You are my friend, and I care about you. Lancelot was also my friend. I needed to make sure things were going to be all right for both of you," Merlin explains.

"What did he say?" Arthur asks.

"He said no, but... I'm not sure I believed him. He went on to explain that you were the better man, Arthur, and he simply wanted Gwen to be happy."

"Hmm," Arthur answers.

"Yes. Sounded to me like the words of a man in love with someone he could not have," Merlin says. "Sorry, Gwen," he adds.

"No, no, you're... you're right. But, the times he left, he did so by his own choosing. So, if he was pining, he has no one on which to place blame but himself," Guinevere says, but her voice is not unkind.

"Wait, if he promised you he'd protect me, why did he volunteer to bring Merlin back to Camelot?" Arthur asks. "That doesn't sound like the actions of a man honoring his promise."

"Hey, you're right..." Merlin says.

"I didn't know that," Guinevere says.

They all puzzle over this for several silent moments. "Probably because he knew about my magic," Merlin finally says. "That's what saved me. Water fairies."

"What?" Arthur asks.

"That's another story for a different day," Merlin waves him off. "Gwen, Lancelot still cared a great deal for you. That's all I was trying to say."

"I... I know," Guinevere nods. "I am neither blind nor stupid, but I no longer felt those feelings for him. Even when he returned with Percival... I was pleased to see him, but only because he had arrived to help you," she adds, looking at Arthur.

He smiles at her and squeezes her hand. "How did you get the bracelet?"

Guinevere sighs and continues her story. "He came to my house. I was surprised, shocked even, that he would be so bold as to come, unchaperoned, to the home of the woman betrothed to the king. He promised me he only wanted to wish me well. Offer his congratulations on our marriage. I expressed my feelings of guilt over his death, and he assured me I was not to blame. He told me I'd be a wonderful queen, then gave me the bracelet. Called it a "token of good fortune" and placed it on my wrist."

"Did he touch it? The metal of the bracelet?" Merlin asks.

"Does that matter?" Arthur asks.

"It may. It may not. Just trying to sort out the details of the enchantment," Merlin says.

Guinevere closes her eyes. "Yes. Yes, he did. He..." she furrows her brows, "he didn't even give me a choice in the matter, come to think of it. He took my hand and placed it on me. Then, he kissed my forehead."

Arthur scowls, unhappy.

"Interesting," Merlin mutters.

"I remember being uncomfortable with his proximity. He was too close, and I didn't like it. When he leaned in to kiss my forehead, I... I flinched," she adds. "After that, everything is cloudy until the dungeon. It's not like this latest ordeal, where I remember almost nothing. That was more like..." she pauses, thinking, trying to put her feelings into words, "a waking dream. More a nightmare, actually. Things made sense at the time, sort of, but when I removed the bracelet, nothing made sense."

"Right," Merlin says, nodding. "It was the same for me when Morgana put the Fomorrah in my neck, remember?"

"Ugh, how could I forget?" Gwen says, making a face, remembering watching Gaius dig the nasty creature out of the back of Merlin's neck.

"Fomorrah?" Arthur asks.

"Um, Gwen's not the first person Morgana has enchanted into trying to kill you, Arthur," Merlin says. "I spent a couple of days that way, myself, actually. Gwen and Gaius helped me deal with that and basically kept me from succeeding."

"When was this?" Arthur asks.

"That time you were about to step into your bath and I was there instead of Merlin," Guinevere says, biting back her smile at the memory. "I had just knocked Merlin unconscious with a pitcher. He had turned your bathwater into acid."

"Oh," Arthur says, blushing slightly, though he has no reason to blush anymore. "That's why you were acting so strangely. Both of you were, I recall."

"Yes," Merlin concurs. "With the exception of that occurrence, every time you caught me doing something odd, I was likely doing something involving magic to save your royal backside from some sort of threat. Sometimes, you didn't even know you were in danger," he explains. Then, he turns back to Guinevere. "The point I am trying to make is I've been under Morgana's control as well, Gwen. I know exactly what you mean, and 'waking dream' is the perfect description."

Arthur slowly nods, understanding. "I've had dreams where, when I wake up, I realize everything in the dream is wrong. Like I'd be on a quest, and Leon and Gwaine are with me, but they look nothing like the real Leon and Gwaine. And, the quest is to find a rare chicken's-milk cheese for my father, who is a goat."

Guinevere laughs at this, unable to help herself. "Is that an actual dream you've had?"

"Yes," Arthur answers. "The funny part is the goat actually did look like Father..."

Merlin's laughter joins Guinevere's now and a moment later, Arthur is also laughing.

"Chickens don't give milk," Guinevere says, still giggling.

"I know that," Arthur says. He sighs. "I nearly forgot what it feels like to laugh," he observes. He takes a drink. Guinevere pushes her plate aside. Merlin takes another bite of food.

"How did you know Lancelot was not the real man, Merlin? I mean, how did you prove it?" Arthur asks.

"Magic, obviously. I have a few things hidden. A couple books. Some other items. Sometimes, I need to research things," he says with a shrug, not apologizing for having illegal items stashed in the castle.

"Hidden where?" Arthur asks.

Merlin gives him a look clearly stating he has no intention of answering that question. "I set a magical trap of sorts. It didn't catch him. He merely had to walk across a drawing I had made on the floor. When he did, his appearance... changed. I could see the bones of his skull through the skin of his face."

"Goodness," Guinevere gasps softly.

"What was he?" Arthur asks.

"A shade. An... an empty shell of his former self. Similar to Gwen's recent enchantment, actually. He was a vessel, and Morgana filled him with information and purpose. Only there was none of the real Lancelot left in him at all, where you still had some of yourself hidden, Gwen."

"So, everything he knew, he learned from Morgana," Arthur says.

"Yes. And that's why he didn't know of my magic," Merlin confirms. "Gwen, is there anything else you remember?"

"Nothing you don't already know," she says, cringing at the thought of what she was made to do, at the realization that Morgana enchanted her to kiss a dead man. "I explained it to Arthur when we were in the council chambers that day... how I couldn't help myself, how I couldn't explain why I did what I did... it all makes sense now."

"Now," Arthur echoes. "Now, not then. Now, nearly four years later." His hands grip the arms of his chair tightly, his jaw clenching. "It was all Morgana. All of it." He looks at Merlin. "She is not my sister."

Merlin nods once and pauses thoughtfully before he continues. "I heard Lancelot talking to Agravaine that night. The night when... well, you know what happened. Agravaine praised Lancelot, telling him Morgana would be pleased."

"And you could say nothing about this to Arthur," Guinevere says, understanding. "It must have been very difficult."

Merlin nods. "Every time I tried to catch Agravaine in his treachery, he was one step ahead of me. I knew he was in league with her, but I couldn't prove it without exposing myself," he huffs, showing his deep irritation .

"I'm sorry, Merlin," Arthur says, his own anger dissolving in the face of Merlin's frustration with his own helplessness. Suddenly, so many things make perfect sense.

"I know, Arthur," Merlin says. "It was frustrating for me, but... I knew without proof you'd never believe the word of a servant, even your personal manservant who has been faithful to you for years, over the word of a family member, especially your uncle." He looks at Arthur. "Even though you hadn't seen him in years and he had no idea about what was truly right for Camelot and had repeatedly given you bad advice because he was secretly serving Morgana," he adds.

"Yes, thank you for pointing all that out, Merlin," Arthur answers, frowning.

"Just because I understood doesn't mean I liked it," Merlin points out.

Arthur looks at Merlin for a long moment. "I'm sorry, Merlin. I realize I cannot change the past, but know that I am truly sorry."

"Thank you, Arthur," Merlin says. He stands and starts clearing their breakfast. "I know you cannot change the past, but I ask you to be mindful of the future. Repair the things your father left broken."

"I will try," Arthur says, taking Guinevere's hand again.

"Thank you, Merlin," she says. "For everything." She looks at Arthur and says, "Thank you for allowing me to tell you. It wasn't a pleasant memory, but I'm glad you know everything now."

"Me, too," Arthur says, kissing her hand. "I'm glad we've gotten at least one mystery solved," he adds. Unfortunately, there are other mysteries yet to be solved, but… I do not have the energy to think about those right now.

"Gwen, Gaius has ordered more rest for you," Merlin says, remembering. "Arthur, you need to meet with the Council this morning."

"Ugh, yes, thank you," Arthur says, making a face. "It's very high on my list of Things I Do Not Want to Do This Morning."

Merlin grunts a short laugh, turns sharply on his heel, and heads for the door.

Arthur calls to him, his servant's behavior jogging something in his brain. "Merlin?"

"Yes?"

"The old sorcerer..."

Merlin stills and turns to look at Arthur, willing his face to be casual. "What of him?"

"Do you know him?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Who is he?"

"That is a conversation for another day, Arthur," Merlin says. He nods once and exits.

xXx

Merlin stops at the kitchens and drops off the breakfast tray, then heads back to his room.

"Merlin." The sorcerer turns and looks around until he finds Mordred. He walks over to him.

"Aren't you supposed to be at training?" Merlin asks.

"No training this morning. It's after lunch. I'm supposed to be studying," he says.

"Then, why aren't you?"

"Don't need to. I've had the Knights' Code memorized for weeks," Mordred answers, shrugging as if this is no great accomplishment.

"Oh," Merlin blinks. "What can I do for you?" he asks. Some servants approach, their arms full of linens, and the two men step aside to let them pass. "Are those going to the royal chambers?" Merlin calls.

"Yes," the maid answers, nodding.

"Good, thank you," Merlin asks. "Sorry," he apologizes for the interruption. "No rest for the weary."

Mordred nods in understanding. He knows full well how much Merlin does for the king and queen as well as Gaius, and has seen how the other servants automatically defer to him without a thought. "I would like to talk to you," Mordred says. "Privately, if you will."

"All right," Merlin says, looking around. "Let's go outside. I told Gaius I'd gather some herbs for him. You can accompany me into the forest. We should be able to speak freely there." He briefly wonders why Mordred is worrying about privacy when they are easily able to communicate solely with their minds, but doesn't think too much of it. I suppose, it could look strange.

They head outside, Merlin with a bag slung over his shoulder, and walk towards the forest beyond the castle.

"You do the work of at least two men, Merlin," Mordred observes, making small talk until they are safely in the woods.

"I'm glad someone noticed," Merlin answers wryly. "The queen is very good about making sure the king doesn't overwork me too much," he adds. "But, between being Arthur's servant, Gaius' assistant, and Arthur's unofficial secret bodyguard, yes, I'm stretched a bit thin. It's been easier now that Gwen has her own maid again. I mean, not that I would help her dress or anything like that, but after Sefa... left... Gwen didn't have a dedicated maidservant, so occasionally she'd go without and I'd step in where I could. Ella's been a godsend."

Mordred nods. "I imagine after what happened with Sefa, safety is a concern."

"Safety is always a concern," Merlin says, a little darker than he intended.

"I know," Mordred agrees.

They step into the forest and out of the bright sunshine. The air is cooler as they walk on the shaded path. "I assume you want to talk to me about magic?" Merlin asks, crouching down to pick some mint leaves he spied a few feet off the path.

"Yes," Mordred says. "There's chamomile just there, too, if you need that," he points.

"Thank you," Merlin says. He says nothing more, waiting for Mordred to speak.

"I wanted to say how much I admire your bravery, Merlin. You... you did what was right, knowing the consequences could be dire for yourself."

"To be completely honest, I didn't think Arthur would actually kill me," Merlin confesses. "I figured at worst, he'd banish me."

"The queen wouldn't allow him to kill you," Mordred theorizes.

"Arthur wouldn't allow himself to do it," Merlin corrects.

"You really have faith in him, don't you?"

Merlin stands and looks at the young Druid knight. "I do. I have to, or I'm not doing my job."

"Merlin..." Mordred says, falling into step beside the older man as he rejoins him on the path, "what do you think he'd do if he found out about me? About my magic?"

Merlin is quiet for a long moment. "I don't know, but I will tell you this: if you want to tell him, now is the time. The sooner you tell him, the better it will be for you."

"You're sure it won't be another shock piled on top of the others?" Mordred asks.

"Well, there is that, but since he knows about me, and you know about me, and he knows you know about me..."

"The less secrets, the better," Mordred nods.

Merlin bends and picks some sprigs of nettle. "I think you should tell him. As soon as possible."

"Will you be there?" Mordred asks, suddenly seeming very much the young boy he is. Nervous, unsure, needing help and guidance.

"Of course," Merlin answers immediately. "Mordred," he adds, looking up, "thank you for telling everyone about Morgana. I'm sorry you wound up being the bearer of another surprise, but..." he stands, wiping his hands on his trousers, "your loyalty did not go unnoticed."

"By Arthur?"

"By me," Merlin says. "As I said, I want to trust you. You are showing me that I can."

"Thank you," Mordred says, his bright blue eyes shining. "I promise you will not be disappointed."

"I certainly hope not," Merlin smiles. "Come on, there's some mallow over there I need."

"Need any bella donna? There's a huge bush over here," Mordred points out.

"Not today. Gaius tries not to use it much," Merlin says. "I see your upbringing with the Druids remains intact," he observes. "You certainly know your plants."

"I have retained some things more than others," Mordred sighs.

"What do you mean?" Merlin asks.

"Merlin, my magic is weak. I don't use it, and it's weakened. Possibly dormant," Mordred admits.

Merlin is shocked. "But... but you were so powerful, even as a boy..." he gasps, stopping in his tracks.

"I know. To be honest, it frightened me. To be so powerful at such a young age." He runs his hand along the bark of a nearby tree. "I had difficulty controlling it. I got so… I was... angry all the time. I would destroy things without realizing it." He sighs. "So, I stopped using it. I couldn't control it, so I pushed it down."

"You used it to communicate with me yesterday and just now , in the corridor," Merlin points out.

"Yes, and honestly, it was exhausting. Why do you think I haven't done it since I've been back?" he asks.

"I did wonder. I mean, when you were little, it was almost exclusively how you communicated with me," Merlin remembers.

"I was a little monster," Mordred grumbles.

"You were a child," Merlin says sympathetically . "You were a child with abilities beyond your understanding."

"You know how hard it is to control it, Merlin. To hide it. I found when my feelings ran high, the magic would come unbidden."

Merlin nods. "Yes. I can't say I have the same issue, but, there were days where I'd have to go off by myself, even for five minutes, and do something, anything, just to get it out. Turn flowers different colors," he says, waving his hand at a nearby daisy, turning the white petals yellow, "redirect the raindrops so they wouldn't land on me. Levitate a toad. Stupid things."

Mordred smiles a little. "Imagine, then, having to restrain your magic while trying to learn how to be a knight. I'm afraid if I ever see battle I'll just... lose control of it in the heat of the moment and... hurt everyone, or worse. Even our friends."

"Your magic is closely tied to your emotions," Merlin observes, nodding.

"It seems to be. Even dueling during training, I... I can't concentrate fully on my swordsmanship or footwork because I always have to keep my magic from... manifesting."

"That means your magic hasn't gone dormant. It's just… atrophied a bit from lack of use."

"It's getting more difficult to handle," Mordred softly says.

Suddenly, Merlin understands. "You want to tell Arthur so I can help you. Properly help you."

"Yes," Mordred sighs. "Will you help me, Merlin?"

"Yes, I will," Merlin says. "But, we need to go about this in the appropriate manner."

Chapter Text

"How are you feeling?" Arthur asks, lying down on the bed beside Guinevere, where she is seated on top of the covers, propped against the headboard amid a mountain of pillows, sewing. He plops his head in her lap, right on top of her work.

"Arthur! You're going to get poked in the head!" she exclaims, and he chuckles impishly. "I'm doing fine, considering," she answers his question, caressing his face in her lap. "How was the Council meeting?" She carefully extracts her sewing from under his head and sets it aside.

"Ugh," he groans, turning his face to press against her stomach. "Dreadfully boring. I found out everything that happened while we were gone, but there was absolutely nothing interesting about it."

"That's good though," she counters. "We want it to be quiet and dull while we're away."

"Yes, but a simple, 'Nothing interesting happened in your absence' would have sufficed. I don't need a blow-by-blow description."

Guinevere giggles. "Well, that's Leon for you. He's nothing if not thorough."

"Yes, 'thorough' is definitely the word," he says, lifting up from her lap, grabbing her by the waist, and sliding her downwards until her face is even with his.

"Arthur!" she yelps.

He kisses her, his lips soft and warm.

A knock sounds at the door, and Arthur assumes it is Merlin with their lunch. "Come," he calls, lifting his head only long enough to bid Merlin enter before returning his attention to his wife.

"Ahem."

Arthur drops his head against Guinevere's shoulder. "George," he groans, softly enough for only her to hear. The king and queen quickly exit the bed, Guinevere smoothing her dress and hair. "George," Arthur repeats, "where is Merlin?"

"Apologies, Sire, but Merlin has asked me to serve you lunch in his stead, and, er, relay a message," George answers, his clipped tone almost completely hiding his discomfort in entering the royal chambers to discover his sovereigns in such a state.

Arthur walks toward the table, Guinevere on his arm. "Well?" he asks, seating the queen himself rather than allowing George to hold her chair for her.

"Thank you," she whispers, smiling at Arthur as he sits.

George clears his throat and frowns. "His words were – and mind you, these are his words, my lord – 'Tell the king I am dealing with an important matter and will attend to him as soon as I am available.' Sire." He doesn't mask his opinion that Merlin is being insubordinate and disrespectful, and waits to bear the brunt of Arthur's explosion.

It doesn't come. Arthur purses his lips a moment, then simply says, "Very well. Thank you."

"Yes... Sire," George answers, thrown off balance. He recovers by diving into serving their lunches, striving to ensure everything is perfectly arrayed and within reach. Once he's finished pouring the wine, he steps back, waiting patiently.

"Thank you, George," Arthur says. "You may go."

"Sire?"

"You are dismissed," he explains.

"When should I return to clear this away, my lord?" he asks, bewildered.

"Do not concern yourself. Merlin will take care of it when he arrives," Arthur says.

"You've done an excellent job as always, George," Guinevere helpfully adds. She knows Arthur doesn't much care for George and has a tendency to be brusque with him.

"Thank you, my lady. My lord," George says, a slightly sour expression on his face. He hesitates a moment longer, bows, and exits.

"You didn't need to dismiss him, Arthur," Guinevere says, reaching for a hunk of bread.

"I did, actually, and not only because he gets under my skin," Arthur answers. "I... I was wondering if you would tell me about what happened while you were... away."

Guinevere looks at Arthur. "Away during my banishment, you mean?"

"Yes," he whispers. She can tell he still feels terrible about the whole ordeal.

She closes her eyes a moment, thinking back nearly four years. "What would you like to know?" she softly asks, opening her eyes.

Arthur notes the sadness and pain in them, and almost changes his mind. No. I need to hear, and it will be good for her to talk about it. "Where did you go? What did you do? How did you wind up at Merlin's mother's house?" He sighs. "Just... everything. What happened to you during that time? I only know I was miserable here without you."

"I know, Arthur," Guinevere says sympathetically. She looks down at her plate, pushing bits of food around as she gathers her thoughts, deciding where, exactly, to begin. "I left here and headed east, towards Lot's kingdom. I stayed with my mother's friend Mary... you remember, she came here to ask for help with what turned out to be the Lamia?"

Arthur nods, picking at his lunch. "What reason did you give her for leaving Camelot?" he asks, curious.

Guinevere bites her lip, then says, "I told her my heart was broken, it was my doing, and I could no longer remain in Camelot. She looked after me like my own mother would have."

"She seemed like a nice woman."

"She knew I was heartbroken over you," Guinevere adds. "I didn't tell her, even when she came to you for help, but... she could see it."

Arthur nods again. "How long were you there?"

"Only a few days. Helios and his men soon arrived and ransacked the village," she continues. "He was recruiting 'volunteers' for his army and taking any able-bodied men he could find. If anyone refused, they were killed. The old and infirm were largely ignored unless they got in the way. Most of the women hid with the children."

"Where were you?" Arthur asks.

"I was cleaning out the pig sty," she says. "So, I hid there and waited for an opportunity to run. When I did, Helios' men found me."

Arthur's face clouds, remembering the savage warlord, knowing his intentions towards his sweet wife would not have been good. His hands unconsciously clench as possible scenarios begin to play through his brain, each one fouler than the last.

"I was on the ground," Guinevere continues, her voice very soft now. "One of the men had his sword pointed at me, looming... I didn't know whether he meant to kill me or... or worse." She stops talking for a moment and dabs her eyes with her napkin. "Then, Helios appeared and stopped him."

"Oh," Arthur says, surprised, but still wary. "I had no idea you had encountered Helios," he adds, frowning worriedly.

Guinevere looks up at Arthur. "He looked down at me and said, 'There's still some pleasure to be had here.' I was grateful not to be killed, but the way he looked at me... like... like I was his next meal..." her voice trails off and she shudders, the memory of his lecherous gaze still fresh in her mind. "I'll never forget those words. Or the look on his face." She takes a deep, trembling breath and wipes her eyes again.

Arthur, filled with a sickening combination of rage, guilt, and pain, digs his fingernails into the wooden arms of his chair, gripping it almost painfully. He looks at his beautiful wife and a tear slips from his eye. "I'm so sorry, Guinevere," is all he can manage.

"My choice was go with him or be killed," she explains. "I had to go with him and... and hope fate would intervene before he decided to..."

Arthur can only nod, the prospect of what could have befallen his Guinevere too much for him to bear.

She takes a sip of water, then another deep breath. "He gave me clean clothes and food, and insisted I dine with him. I would have preferred to go hungry and keep my own company, but I didn't feel I could refuse and remain... intact. His manners were polite, but his eyes... I've never been the object of such brazen lust before."

Arthur still says nothing, grinding his jaw in frustrated anger. He finds himself wishing Helios was still alive so he could find him and kill him himself as tears of rage, sympathy, and remorse begin to roll down his cheeks.

Guinevere continues, looking at her plate again. "He wanted to know all about me. I didn't tell him who I really was or what had happened, only my name. Looking back, I wonder if I should have given him a false name... perhaps Morgana wouldn't have come after me then," she ponders.

"Wait, what? You're skipping ahead, Love," Arthur says, wiping his face. The mention of Morgana surprises him. I didn't know she also crossed paths with Morgana while she was away. Who else... what else confronted her? How much did she suffer?

"Sorry," she apologizes, looking at him. She notices her husband's tear-filled eyes, hesitates, but at his nod, soldiers on. "While I was dining with Helios and feeding him lies about my past, one of his men arrived and informed him Morgana was approaching and wished to meet with him."

"What did you do?" Arthur asks, not realizing Guinevere had known about Morgana's alliance with Helios before he did.

"Inside, I panicked. I knew she could not see me. So, I made some hasty excuses and fortunately, he allowed me to leave. I actually passed her in the cavern in which we were staying, but the clothing Helios gave me had a long veil, so I covered the lower half of my face and looked down and away, like a proper serving girl. She didn't notice me, thankfully."

"What did you do next?" Arthur asks, relieved she escaped being detected.

"I made my way back and listened. Not that evening, but when Morgana returned the next day."

Arthur, marveling at how brave and loyal Guinevere was, is without words. She risked her life for me, for Camelot, even while banished. What if she were caught? What would Morgana have done to her? What would Helios have done? He doesn't really want to dwell on those thoughts, but the horrific images he had imagined earlier come flooding back.

"She had the plans of the siege tunnels, Arthur." Guinevere's soft voice interrupts his pondering.

"Agravaine... he must have concocted that story... he killed an innocent boy, Guinevere, to get those plans. Merlin tried to warn me... but the plans were in the vaults when we checked." He looks at her, his watery eyes wide. "You were the one who told Merlin..."

Guinevere nods, realizing Merlin must not have told Arthur it was she who informed him.

"But, how?" Arthur puzzles. When had Merlin been in contact with Guinevere?

"Morgana must have had the plans copied. I heard her tell Helios that Agravaine was her spy. Then, I moved, trying to see better, and a rock slipped, giving me away. I knew, if found, they would kill me, so I fled."

"They followed?"

Guinevere nods. By this time, their lunches have been completely forgotten. "Helios must have told Morgana my name, and they pursued me. I've never run so far, so hard." As the unpleasant and painful memories surface, her face reflects the anguish she felt at that time . Arthur reaches over and takes her hand, squeezing lightly, his thumb skating across her knuckles as fresh tears fall from her eyes. "I hid from them in the river."

Arthur's brows rise in surprise. "In the river? You mean you...?"

"I held my breath until it felt like my lungs were going to burst," she says. "I was safe for the night. Cold and frightened, but safe. Unfortunately, Morgana quickly found me in the morning. She can track nearly as well as you."

"I know," Arthur grumbles. "Dear God, Guinevere, I'm so sorry. I know how much you hate the woods. I remember how jumpy you always were when we were there."

"I had very real threats about which to be worried this time," she whispers. Then, she squeezes his hand once before continuing. "I tried to run, but there is no running from Morgana. She threw me into a tree and I fell, unconscious." Arthur squeezes his eyes shut, trying to will out of his mind the image of his Guinevere, crumpled on the forest floor. Unfortunately, it remains with unsettling clarity.

"I imagine that is when she pulled your betrothal ring from around my neck, where I had been wearing it."

"On a leather thong, yes," Arthur says, remembering how he held that ring, turning it over and over in his hands, letting it dangle from the thong, then sliding it up between his fingers to bring the ring back to his hands again. How when he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, he could detect the faint scent of Guinevere on the leather.

She nods. "When I woke up, I knew something was different. I was confused. I didn't feel right. I didn't feel like myself."

"What had she done?"

"She enchanted me. For the second time, apparently. From what I've figured out, I was still myself, but to others, I would appear as a doe."

Arthur stares, saying nothing for a minute. "She would have known it was the festival of Istara..." He remembers the young doe they spotted, and his blood goes cold.

Guinevere nods. "I heard the shouts and the dogs. Merlin found me, just ahead of your hunting party. Then, I saw you. I could hardly believe it." She pauses. A very particular memory emerges. "I remember seeing you raise your crossbow. Your aim was squarely fixed on me," Guinevere continues, her voice wavering and thick with tears. "I... I froze. I couldn't move..."

"God, Guinevere," Arthur chokes out. "I... had no idea..." Horror courses through his veins as he thinks about what he almost did.

Guinevere pushes on, caught up in her memories. "I've thought about this quite a bit, and now that I know Merlin has magic, some things make sense. The bolt from your crossbow missed me. You wouldn't have missed. Merlin must have... he must have somehow seen my true form and redirected your shot. But, another one hit. I managed to limp away and hide."

"You were hit?" Arthur asks, his voice a pained whisper. "Mithian's shot..." He pales, his eyes haunted.

"It was so painful. I couldn't think. I did not know where to hide. I was so... so frightened... and lost..." she quietly says, her voice giving out as the tears come harder, and she crumples, leaning forward into her hands and sobbing.

"Oh, no..." Arthur hoarsely whispers. He stands and goes to her, sliding her chair back so he can crouch in front of her. "Guinevere," her name is a soft prayer on his lips as he rubs her back, kissing her hair. "Love, come," he whispers, gently easing her from her chair and guiding her over to his, where he settles her onto his lap. He wraps his arms tightly around her, holding her close. "I didn't know you had been injured... you never said... you didn't appear wounded when I saw you in Ealdor..." he says, lightly caressing her cheek with his thumb, wiping away her tears.

"I know. That is what I didn't understand. I must have passed out from the pain. Then, when I woke, there was no arrow in my leg and Merlin was there. I... I didn't question it at the time; I assumed it went away when the enchantment wore off," she explains, returning his caress.

"Merlin healed you," Arthur reasons.

"Yes, I think so, looking back. He must have found me in the night and made sure I was safe," she says, clearly moved by her friend's gesture.

Arthur tenderly touches his wife's forehead with his own. He is visibly shaken by what his beloved has just revealed to him. "That's when I found your ring. After Mithian... shot you, we were looking for you... for the doe we didn't know was you, I mean. When I saw your ring, I felt... My heart felt as though it had been pierced through. I could hear the knights and the princess talking in the background, but it was all noise. Just nonsense to me," Arthur says, his eyes wide with the memory. "The world tilted. I felt... dizzy. Off balance. All I knew – all I cared about – was that you had been there, on that very spot. I looked up and searched the forest around me, looking for you, the doe completely forgotten. Eventually, my eyes landed on Merlin, and I could immediately see he was as concerned as I was. He was looking for you, as well." He holds Guinevere tightly, almost too much so, as he remembers his despair over not finding her, not knowing where she was. He kisses her temple and buries his face in her hair, nuzzling her neck, needing the reassurance of her presence. "I declared the hunt over and we made for the castle. I couldn't continue, knowing you were in the woods somewhere, alone and unprotected. All I could think about was you. Were you safe? Were you frightened? Were you hurt?" he says, his voice soft and full of anguish, his breath warm on her neck. His tears are flowing freely now, wetting his cheeks and her shoulder as he keeps his face pressed against her neck. "Thankfully, Merlin found and looked after you. I shall thank God every day until my dying breath for that."

"Yes, thanks to Merlin, I didn't die," Guinevere says, once again wiping away Arthur's tears just as he is reaching to do the same for her. "Living wasn't exactly easy during that time, but I had to survive in order to somehow warn you about Morgana's plans."

Arthur lifts his head from her shoulder and takes Guinevere's hand. He kisses it, then holds it against his cheek for a moment.

"When I woke and Merlin was there, I told him everything I had heard. He... he tried to convince me to come back and tell you myself, but... I couldn't. I told him I had what I deserved." Arthur's breath catches as she finishes, her voice a whisper.

"No, Love, no," Arthur firmly states.

"It is what I believed at the time," Guinevere answers, shuddering in his arms and tucking her face into his neck. As the wetness from her tears fall on his skin, he tightens his grip on her. They remain this way, drawing solace and strength from each other, for a few moments. Finally, Guinevere takes a deep breath, but says nothing, so Arthur speaks.

"Merlin did warn me. He tried. Agravaine must have been aware of Merlin's suspicions and already had the plans returned," Arthur quietly says. "Still, he was so insistent..."

Guinevere moves her head slightly, resting it on his shoulder. "I understand your reasoning, Arthur. Agravaine was family, after all."

"My mother's brother. I still cannot believe..." he shakes his head as though he is trying to clear away the hurt. "Merlin was really your champion, Guinevere. He kept reminding me that I still loved you."

"He did?" Guinevere asks, surprised.

"Whenever he could. I forbade him to speak your name, but he still managed to remind me. He really has given excellent counsel more often than I would be willing to admit," he sighs. He turns and softly kisses her forehead, closing his eyes as his lips press her soft, smooth skin. "Did Merlin suggest you go to Ealdor and his mother's house?"

She nods. "She's really a wonderful woman. Very kind. I see a lot of her in Merlin."

"It was good of her to take you in," Arthur says with a sigh, not needing to add that Hunith shouldn't have had to take Guinevere in.

"She seemed to know how I was feeling," Guinevere says, lifting her head from Arthur's shoulder. "I guess she would know how it feels to lose a love."

"Merlin's father. The dragonlord," Arthur comments, briefly wondering about their story. Is Hunith aware that Merlin knows about his father? He looks at Guinevere and is fairly sure she is wondering the same thing.

"Maybe one day Merlin will ask her about him," she says, confirming his suspicions. "Hunith kept me busy," she continues, back on track. "Welcomed my help. Showed me sympathy and kindness, but never coddled."

Arthur is quiet for a moment. "I'm sorry for how I behaved towards you. It was... unfair of me."

"Thank you. I know you were confused and overwrought, but... thank you," she answers, kissing his cheek.

"Confused and overwrought is nothing compared to how you must have been feeling," he says, leaning his head against hers.

"Well, I have always wondered..." Guinevere begins, then stops, biting her lower lip.

"What? Wondered what, Love?" Arthur gently prods.

Guinevere lowers her gaze and looks at her husband's shoulder as she whispers, "Is it true? Everything we had between us before then. Is it truly gone?"

"What? No!" Arthur cries out, looking down at her, his eyes desperate. "Most certainly not! Guinevere, I was so lost and hurt, I didn't know what I was saying. Please understand—"

"It's just that we never talked about it, Arthur," Guinevere gently explains. "We never talked about so many things…"

"Well, we are talking now and will continue to do so until all of this is sorted. I want you to be able to say whatever you wish about anything and everything at anytime, just like before. Your willingness to speak up to me was one of the first things about you with which I fell in love," he explains, gently lifting her face and sweetly kissing her lips.

"Thank you, Arthur," she says. "And, thank you for listening. I... I haven't thought about that time in a while. I don't like thinking about it," she admits after a moment. "But, I'm glad you wanted to know what had happened."

"Thank you for telling me. I realize it wasn't easy for you," he says, caressing her cheek with his finger. "I'm sorry. I know I have said it many times, and still, it does not seem enough. I'm so sorry. I love you so much, Guinevere," he says, kissing her.

"And I love you, Arthur," she answers, kissing him once more, then cuddling against him. He wraps his arms around her and holds her tightly.

"Arthur?"

"Yes, Love?"

"What happened with Mithian? What happened after you returned to the castle?"

Arthur shakes his head. He doesn't want to talk about this, but realizes he should. His Guinevere deserves to have all of her questions answered. He does not want anything to stand between them. Ever.

He takes a deep breath and begins, "After we got back, I retreated to my chambers and refused to see anyone. I had nothing left in me to carry on with... with my plans. All I could think about was you and how much I love you. I kept toying with your ring. I could not bring myself to let go of it, just as I realized I could not let go of you."

Guinevere snuggles closer to Arthur and sighs.

"I knew I owed Mithian an explanation, so I had new terms for the treaty drawn up, all in her favor. I told her I was sorry, but they were all I was able to offer."

Guinevere lifts her head and studies her husband's face. "What did she say?"

"She asked who is it that trumps a princess and asked if this person was worth forfeiting my kingship and kingdom." He falls silent, resting his head atop hers.

"Arthur?" she prompts.

"I told her without you, my kingship and kingdom are worth nothing to me."

Guinevere gasps, stunned by the depth of love Arthur had for her even when it appeared there was no future for them.

"Mithian said she would give up her own kingdom for such a love," Arthur finishes.

Overwhelmed, Guinevere tucks her face into her beloved's neck, breathes in his scent, feels his strong arms around her, and gathers strength and comfort from his solid presence. Neither of them says anything more until another knock sounds at the door.

"Merlin?" Arthur calls. Guinevere wipes her eyes, but makes no move to leave his lap.

"Yes," Merlin's muffled voice sounds through the door.

"Come," he calls.

Merlin steps in, pauses briefly at the sight of the queen cradled on the king's lap, but recovers quickly and walks over to them. "Everything all right?"

"Guinevere has just told me about what happened to her during her banishment," Arthur says.

"Oh," Merlin says, surprised. He doesn't move, considering this. I'm glad she told him. I'm sure it wasn't pleasant, but they shouldn't hide from it anymore. He finally starts clearing their lunch and notices how little has been consumed. "Are you done with your meal?" he asks.

"Yes. We did more talking than eating," Guinevere answers, lifting her head from Arthur's shoulder. "Merlin, I have a question."

"Yes?"

"Did you heal me in the forest? I was shot with an arrow, and when I woke up, it was gone and there was no wound."

Merlin stops. "So, you knew you were a deer?"

Guinevere nods. "I thought perhaps the arrow went away when I returned to myself. But, it was you, wasn't it?"

"Yes, it was. I found you unconscious and shaking uncontrollably. I removed the arrow, healed your injury, and kept watch over you until you woke," he casually says, as if it were an everyday thing.

"Merlin," she says, reaching her hand out to his, "thank you. What you did means so much. To both of us."

"You would do the same for me," Merlin simply says. He smiles. "Even so, it's like I told Arthur: this is what I do. Arthur is meant to be king. You're meant to be queen. Gaius is meant to be a physician. I'm meant to protect Arthur, and, by extension, you."

"Well, I would like you to know we appreciate it. And, now that we're learning more about what you've done," she pauses, shaking her head in amazement, "mere words of thanks are inadequate. But, thank you so very much all the same," Guinevere says. Arthur nods, letting his wife speak, knowing she is much better equipped to say the right words in this situation.

"It is my honor," Merlin says, smiling.

"You... you stopped my bolt from hitting Guinevere, didn't you?" Arthur softly asks.

"Of course I did," Merlin answers. "Couldn't have you killing your future queen now, could I?"

"Thank you," Arthur softly answers.

"You're very welcome," Merlin says. A moment later, he frowns, something clearly on his mind.

Arthur notices and remembers his servant's message. "So, what was this important business you were on about?"

Merlin covers the tray holding their lunch dishes and clasps his hands behind his back. "Two things, actually. Still trying to find the bracelet. I've got the head guard questioning all his men. Unfortunately, we lost quite a few guards when Morgana and Helios attacked, so we may never know what became of it. Plus, it's been over three years. I'd really like to examine it to find out if it is still enchanted. It would be awful if it was out there breaking up marriages or something." He frowns.

"Good point," Arthur says. "And, the other?"

Merlin squares his shoulders. "I would like to request a formal audience with the king and queen. At their earliest conveniences. A private formal audience."

Arthur blinks, surprised.

"Why the formalities, Merlin? Surely you know you can simply talk to us," Guinevere says, and Arthur nods in agreement.

"Well, this is something of a slightly different nature. There is something that needs to be addressed officially. It involves more than just me."

"Who else?" Arthur asks.

"I truly believe it best, Sire, to wait until the formal audience. When will the king and queen be available?" Merlin inquires.

"Merlin, you know our schedules better than we do," Arthur points out. He realizes Merlin's not going to say anything more about what he needs to discuss with them, so he doesn't press.

"After dinner," Merlin says. "In the throne room. Leon may be present if he wishes, but no council. No guards. No servants. My lord," he adds, just for good measure.

Arthur nods. "All right. After dinner then."

"Thank you, Sire. My lady," Merlin nods, takes the tray, and sweeps from the room.

xXx

Arthur and Guinevere are seated on their respective thrones, waiting and wondering what it is Merlin has in store for them.

"Do you think it's something about Gaius?" Arthur asks, looking over at his wife. "I know he studied magic in his younger days, but..."

"Be patient, Love, Merlin will be here soon," Guinevere says, patting his hand. He turns it and takes hers, twining their fingers together between them.

A moment later, the doors open and Leon steps in. "Merlin and Sir Mordred request a private audience with the king and queen," he declares, his clear voice ringing through the large, empty room.

"Mordred?" Arthur mutters. "Bid them enter, Sir Leon, and secure the doors behind them."

"Yes, my lord," Leon answers. A moment later, Merlin and Mordred enter, their faces serious. They both respectfully bow as Leon closes and bolts the door. He takes his place off to the side, watching and listening with interest.

"Merlin," Arthur speaks first, "what is the purpose for this audience?"

"Sire, my lady, Sir Mordred has something he wishes to tell you," Merlin says.

"Very well," Arthur nods, assuming, given recent events, that this is about the bracelet or Morgana.

Mordred clears his throat nervously and looks over at Merlin. Merlin gives him an encouraging nod. "My lord," he begins, "Do you remember the first time we met? The very first time?"

"Yes, of course," Arthur says. "You were very young. And ill. Morgana was hiding you from Father because you were a Druid and..." he trails off, realization hitting him square in the forehead. "You're a Druid."

"Yes, Sire," Mordred says.

"Druids have magic," Arthur states, staring at the young knight but seeing the quiet, intense little boy he helped save nearly ten years ago.

"Yes, Sire," Mordred repeats.

"My lord, Mordred has not used his magic in some time. Not intentionally, anyway," Merlin says, trying to explain. "He wanted—"

"I wanted to tell you because of what has happened. Because you know about Merlin, I mean, and… because you allowed him to help Queen Guinevere," Mordred speaks up, growing braver. "Merlin suggested that it would be best for me to speak up as soon as possible."

"No more secrets," Merlin adds.

Arthur thoughtfully nods. "Did you know about Merlin's magic before yesterday, Mordred?"

"Yes, Sire, I did. And he knew about mine. We have known since the moment we met, all those years ago. I am very sorry," Mordred regretfully answers.

"You do not need to apologize for keeping Merlin's secret, Mordred," Guinevere addresses the youthful knight. "You were protecting each other. It is completely understandable, given the situation."

"Thank you, my lady," Mordred offers a small smile, appreciating the queen's graciousness.

Arthur's face is inscrutable as he ponders this information. "Why are you telling us this?" he asks. "I understand your desire to be honest with me, and I thank you for it, but... why do I have the feeling the two of you have something... more in mind?"

"You're not angry, my lord?" Mordred asks.

"If anything, I'm angry with myself... yet again... for not seeing what was right before my eyes. How I failed to remember you are a Druid is beyond me," Arthur shakes his head.

"I was a little surprised by that, myself," Mordred blurts. "My lord. Apologies," he hastily adds.

"No, no, it's fine. I realize this is a formal audience, but please, speak freely," Arthur says. He glances over at Leon for a moment and sees the knight studying Mordred like he's never seen him before. "Sir Leon, I trust you will keep this information in the matter in which it has been presented."

"Yes, Sire. It will be Sir Mordred's decision to tell the others," Leon nods. "Well, 'the others' being Percival and Gwaine, if we are keeping this information as tightly held as we are Merlin's."

"I think it would be best," Arthur says.

"I must say, however, that while I am completely shocked, the prospect of having a knight with magic certainly has… possibilities. Strategically speaking, of course," Leon adds.

"Which is actually our point, Arthur," Merlin says, lapsing into his normal, informal demeanor. "Mordred is a knight. He has magic. He's been allowed to train as a knight, and now wishes to train in the use of his magic as well."

"With you?" Arthur raises his eyebrows.

"You have a better option?" Merlin counters. "Certainly not—"

"Mordred," Guinevere says, "Morgana knows about your magic, doesn't she?" It's not really a question.

"Yes, my lady," Mordred softly answers, looking down. "She… she attempted to seduce me to her side in the forest yesterday." He looks up, his face earnest. "I refused immediately, of course. I do not agree with the path on which she has placed herself."

"I am glad you refused, but it is not good that she knows," Arthur says, scowling. "We must protect you from her, especially if she wants you."

"That's what I'm trying to do," Merlin says.

"Sire, my magic is weak. It has… what is the word you used, Merlin?"

"Atrophied. Grown weak with disuse."

"It has atrophied, but it… tends to come out when my emotions run high. I know if I am allowed to work on it, allowed to study and train, I could become strong again. I could learn to control it."

"Again?" Guinevere asks.

Mordred looks at Merlin, silently asking for help in explaining his complex history to their sovereigns.

Merlin tactfully steps in. "When Mordred was a boy, he was exceptionally powerful. It was too much for one so young, and he was…"

"I became frightened of myself," Mordred says. "I was scared I would hurt the wrong person, someone for whom I cared, perhaps…" he drifts a moment, then regroups. "So, I stopped using it."

The king and queen thoughtfully consider the words of their friend and the Druid knight. "Are you able to help him, Merlin?" Arthur asks. "Are you prepared to take on this responsibility?"

"Yes, Sire," Merlin answers. "I would very much like to work with Mordred." Maybe I can help him where I was unable to help Morgana. "I think it would be beneficial for all of us to be prepared for a time when magic will be allowed in Camelot once again."

Merlin's bold word choice does not go unnoticed by the king. He said "when", not "if". "You believe this time will come," Arthur states.

"I do," Merlin answers. "Once Morgana is no longer a threat. Only then."

"He's right, Sire," Leon volunteers. "We cannot allow magic in Camelot while the Lady Morgana yet lives. She would take full advantage, and it could be catastrophic."

"Of course," Arthur agrees. He nods slowly, staring into space, strategic wheels turning in his tactical brain. At length, he looks at Guinevere, who nods, but says nothing. "Very well. I will allow this, but I have several conditions."

"Naturally," Merlin nods.

"First, as you must know, discretion is of utmost importance. Stay in Gaius' quarters or, if you need more room, somewhere deep and secluded in the forest. Second, Mordred must continue with his knights' training as though nothing has changed."

"Of course, Sire," Mordred agrees.

"Third, Merlin, Mordred is your responsibility. If anything bad happens because of this, and I do mean anything…"

"Yes, Sire," Merlin says, understanding. "You have my word."

xXx

"Why have you summoned me, young warlock?" the Great Dragon wearily says as he touches down onto the grass. "I am aged and weary, and you have little need of my guidance anymore."

"I have a question for you," Merlin says, looking up at his old friend. Old. He does look older and less full of life every time I see him.

"You always have questions for me, Merlin, and most of the time you ignore my counsel," Kilgarrah sighs.

Chastised, Merlin says nothing for a moment, but presses on. "I want to know about the prophesy. The one that says Mordred will kill Arthur."

"You already know all that it says," Kilgarrah answers.

"Is it still true? Will it yet come to pass?" Merlin asks.

Kilgarrah angles his large head at him. "Recent events have changed the path," he says. "If young Mordred stays on this course, he will not betray you."

Merlin breathes a heavy sigh of relief.

"Do not take my words lightly, Merlin," the dragon warns. "The Druid boy must stay on the path of light."

"I have taken him on as my pupil," Merlin says. "I will help him... I won't fail him like I did Morgana."

"Morgana's choices are not your burden to bear," Kilgarrah says. "Carry them with you no longer, as they are nothing but useless weight on your heart."

Merlin lowers his gaze. "I'll try, but it's difficult. I keep wondering 'what if?'..."

"Merlin," Kilgarrah levels his head, looking squarely at Merlin, and the warlock looks up and sees that the dragon's large eyes are slightly clouded, but still wise. "Some paths are like rivers, flowing, changeable, movable. Mordred's path is one of these. Other paths are paved with stone, only changeable through immense effort. Such is Morgana's path."

Merlin looks away, remembering the times the dragon had warned him. The times he told him in no uncertain terms to let Morgana die. He's right. I didn't listen, and I should have. "I'm sorry," he apologizes, his voice thick with remorse. "I'm sorry I didn't listen."

Kilgarrah bows his head, acknowledging the apology. "Listen to me now, young warlock. You must be Mordred's guide for such a time as this. Be firm with him, but, above all else, you must show him kindness. Do not let the apparent calm of his still demeanor fool you. The boy is fragile, still very much ruled by his emotions."

"I know," Merlin says, nodding, remembering his conversation with Mordred that morning. "He told me he has difficulty controlling his magic when his feelings are strong."

"Yes. So take care, as his feelings may be his downfall."

Merlin furrows his brow. "How so?"

"Mordred will be tested. His loyalty will have to stand one more test in order for the prophecy of Arthur's death to change for good," the dragon explains. "I cannot say how he will be tested, as it is unclear. If he does not pass this test, his path will align with Morgana's."

"And if he passes?" Merlin asks.

"The prophecy will be no more."

Chapter Text

"I'm so glad Gaius allowed me to take this stroll," Guinevere says, holding Arthur's arm as they walk through the marketplace. She had to plead with the physician, telling him she could not bear staying indoors when it was so beautiful outside. He had relented, on the condition she not stay out too long.

"Yes, I remember how you enjoyed your walks through the market," Arthur says.

"The people have missed seeing you, my lady," Merlin points out, walking beside Percival behind the royal couple. Many people wave, bow, or otherwise greet their king and queen, and one little girl has given Guinevere a small bunch of wildflowers.

"I've missed seeing them," she says. "I assume I did not take my customary outings while I was..." she adds, her voice trailing off.

"No, my lady," Percival says. "You informed me you wouldn't be visiting the people as often." Percival had regularly accompanied Guinevere on her walks, because his size was a deterrent to anyone who might have been thinking of harming the queen as well as making him easily visible if anything did happen. Plus, he volunteered for the duty.

Guinevere looks back at Percival and frowns. "I'm sorry, Percival." She pauses thoughtfully. "That doesn't sound like me, does it?"

He shrugs. "It was not my place to question your actions, my lady."

"Please do so in the future," she says, smiling at him. He nods, shyly smiling back. When she turns around she notices Gelda Seward making her way down the road, struggling with a large basket. "Why is Mrs. Seward carrying that all by herself?" she asks. "Where is Tyr?"

Oh, no. All three men have the same thought.

"Um, Guinevere... Tyr died. It happened while you were enchanted," Arthur says. "He... it..." They stop walking.

"It's complicated," Merlin volunteers, stepping forward.

"Percival, would you please help Mrs. Seward?" Guinevere asks, touching the large knight's arm. "With anything she needs. Please," she says, immediately troubled.

"Of course, my lady," Percival answers and jogs over to the older woman, slowing when he is a few feet away so as not to alarm her. He politely and respectfully offers his services. She initially declines, but Percival gently convinces her, his open and earnest manner difficult to refuse.

"Right man for the job," Arthur observes.

"I'd like to go home, please," Guinevere says, her voice noticeably weaker.

"Are you all right, my love?" Arthur asks.

"I don't know," she answers. I have a bad feeling that I cannot shake.

Merlin exchanges a concerned look with Arthur. They turn around and head back to the castle.

xXx

Back in the royal chambers, Guinevere sits by the window, reading a volume about herbs. The sounds of swords clanging in the distance float up to her ears as the knights train. Occasionally, she can hear Arthur's steady commands or shouts from the men. Ella sits nearby, mending one of Arthur's shirts, keeping her mistress company.

"I don't know why I am attempting to read," Guinevere sighs. "I have been staring at this same page for God only knows how long."

"It is understandable, my lady," Ella says, pulling her needle through the fabric. "You've been through an ordeal. It's going to take a while – whoops!"

Her spool of thread has toppled from her lap and rolls across the floor, stopping when it bumps against Guinevere's foot. She bends down, picks it up, and stares at the wooden spool, at the red thread wound around it, one long end dangling.

Red thread.

"My lady?" Ella asks, her voice sounding strange and distant.

Suddenly, images are flying across Guinevere's vision faster than she can comprehend. She gasps and squeezes her eyes shut. The whirling images slow down to a crawl and she sees...

Arthur's saddle. The re-stitched girth. My hands, pulling the thread through the leather. Holding my breath as Arthur tumbles from his saddle. The weight of a dagger in my palm, hidden in my skirts as I spoke with Tyr. The fear and surprise in his eyes as I…

It was me. I did it.

It was me.

Guinevere begins to moan, a sad, mournful cry originating from somewhere deep inside of her, somewhere she cannot reach with her mind. "No..." she rasps, standing on shaky legs and staring at the spool now clutched in her trembling hand. She takes a deep, shuddering breath and tears begin to spill from her eyes as she takes an unsteady step forward.

"My lady?" Ella prompts again, more urgently, as she stands and goes to the queen.

Guinevere remains frozen in place, swaying slightly. She's staring into space, her eyes wide and terrified.

"What is it, my lady? Pray allow me to help you!" Ella, truly frightened at seeing her mistress in such a state, reaches out to assist the queen.

Guinevere shakes her head. "Arthur... I need him..." she whispers, slightly trembling.

"Yes, my lady!" the handmaiden stammers and dashes out the door past the startled guards.

Ella runs as fast as she can, ignoring the pains in her shins as her thin shoes pound on the stones, ignoring the strange looks from the other servants as she makes her way to the training grounds. She doesn't know how she's going to get the king's attention or what she'll say. All she knows is her mistress needs him. Now.

She reaches the training grounds, gasping for air, and is met by Merlin.

"Ella? What's wrong?" he asks.

Her eyes lock on Arthur and she runs into the training field without thinking. Several knights shout in protest at the interruption, but she pays them no mind.

"My lord!" Ella yells, and Arthur immediately stops and looks at the maid, surprised. "The queen..." she gasps.

Arthur immediately drops his sword and bolts, catching up to and passing the already-running Merlin.

The knights are dumbstruck, each man staring in shock as their king sprints to the castle, troubled about what could be the matter with their queen. Leon is the first to recover, bending to retrieve Arthur's dropped sword. He clears his throat loudly. "I am sure King Arthur will call for assistance should he need any," he says, his voice quiet but carrying easily to all the men's ears. Then, he shakes his head slightly and taps the nearest knight's sword with his. "All right lads, don't stand there gaping," Leon announces. "I believe we were practicing defensive maneuvers..."

"Ella, you might want to move," Gwaine gently recommends, putting his arm around the girl's shoulders. He had been sparring with Leon when she arrived, and since he's now without a partner, he guides the frightened maid off of the training field. Gwaine catches Leon's eyes and the senior knight nods his consent. "Come, let's go see if the queen is all right."

"Thank you, sir," Ella answers, tears falling now as fear replaces the urgency she was feeling.

When Arthur reaches the royal chambers, Guinevere is in a heap on the floor, sobbing into her hands, still clutching the spool of thread.

Arthur rushes to her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against him, surrounding her with himself. "Guinevere, shh..." he hushes her. He doesn't know what's wrong, but he needs her to calm down. "It's all right, Love, I'm here," he whispers, stroking her hair. He glances up, giving Merlin a concerned look. Merlin is just as worried, but he's been worried about Guinevere since they saw Mrs. Seward in the marketplace earlier that morning.

"It was me," Guinevere whispers. "It was me."

"What was you?" Arthur asks, pulling away just enough to look at her. He gently wipes the tears from her cheeks, but they are steadily coursing down.

"I did it, Arthur. It was me..." she hoarsely says, falling to sobbing again, collapsing against him.

Merlin sees the spool clutched in her hand and realization hits him like a boulder. He grabs a nearby chair and sinks onto it. This is what I feared. I had suspected, but truly hoped I was wrong. "Arthur," he softly says, "in her hand."

Arthur takes Guinevere's hand and gently pries the spool out of her grasp. "Thread?" he asks, confused.

There is a soft knock at the door, left ajar in their haste. "Excuse me, Sire," Gwaine softly calls. "Is the queen all right?" His arm is still around Ella's shoulders. The girl is wide-eyed and pale, clearly very frightened.

"She will be fine," Merlin answers with more confidence than he feels.

Gwaine notices the disparity between Merlin's words and face, but says nothing, knowing his friend is protecting both the queen and her maid. "Let's see if we can find you a bite to eat," he says, nodding at Merlin as he escorts Ella away, taking care to close the door behind them. I don't know what's going on, but I have a feeling neither of us is needed at present.

"Arthur," Guinevere whispers, her face still hidden in his shoulder, "it was me. I was the one who tampered with your saddle. I was the one who threatened poor Tyr with his mother's life. I was the one who... who ki..." Her voice fails again, unable to continue.

"No, Guinevere, no, no..." Arthur says, gathering her to him again, holding her closer. "You were doing Morgana's bidding. It wasn't you. You weren't in control of your actions, Love."

"It was my hand," she sobs, lifting her head. "My hand holding the knife. I saw it! I killed an innocent man deliberately and ruthlessly!" She collapses against him again.

"Merlin, get Gaius," Arthur looks up and says. Merlin nods once and exits immediately.

Guinevere is inconsolable, heaving great, silent sobs that shake Arthur to his core. All he can do is hold her and remind her she is not to blame, that she was under an enchantment. "Remember, Love, Morgana was controlling you," he says, but his own voice is shaky now as he struggles not to give in to the overwhelming sense of helplessness looming over him. Arthur swallows hard, striving to ride out Guinevere's remorse and grief with her. She needs you to stay strong for her, to maintain control. He reaches within, to his deep love for his wife, and rallies. "It may as well have been her holding the knife."

She continues crying against his shoulder, saying nothing. Arthur moves, shifting their positions on the floor so he can stand, lifting her in his arms. He carries her to the bed and gently places her on it. She clings to his shoulders, not willing to let him go.

"Guinevere, I'm not going anywhere," he whispers, and she loosens her grasp so he can sit beside her on the bed. He sets the spool of thread on the bedside table, then leans back against the pillows, holding her to his chest.

"I cannot believe..." she manages, wiping her eyes again. Arthur's shirt is becoming soaked through with her tears, and she rubs her hand over it. "Sorry..." she whispers.

"It's fine, Love. Just a shirt," he says. Her sobs have diminished, and occasionally her breath hitches, but she's starting to calm down.

There's a soft knock at the door and it opens a crack. Merlin's head pokes in, then he slowly enters, followed by Gaius.

"How is she?" Gaius asks, walking to the bedside, where Merlin is setting a chair for him.

"Shocked. Upset," Arthur says.

"Devastated," Guinevere whispers. "I can't... how can I live with myself knowing I...?"

"Gwen, it was Morgana, not you," Merlin says, echoing Arthur's sentiments.

"Yes, my lady, you must remember that," Gaius says. "When memories like this surface, you must remind yourself that you were not acting under your own control."

"That's what I've been telling her," Arthur softly says. He smoothes her hair away from her face, where a few tendrils have gotten loose and stuck to her damp cheeks.

"How could I... how could she...?" Guinevere gasps. "There's... there's nothing I can do to right this wrong... nothing I can say..."

"I know, Love, I know," Arthur says. "We all believe you would never harm anyone, let alone kill them. Well, only in self defense," he adds, remembering the times she has taken up a sword.

"Everyone is certain of that," Merlin agrees, perching at the foot of the bed. "Everyone knows there is no one kinder than Queen Guinevere."

"You are both very sweet, but... Mrs. Seward... she was friends with my mother," Guinevere says, sniffling. Merlin hands her a handkerchief. "Thank you," she absently says, sitting up a little. "I've known her, known her family, my whole life. How can I face her? I killed her son!"

"You don't have to face her, Gwen," Merlin says, but as soon as the words are out, he realizes she does. He knows his friend the queen, and he understands that she needs to go and see Mrs. Seward to try to atone for what she has done.

"No, I do," Guinevere says, picking at the edges of the handkerchief. "I... I have to speak with her. Confess what I've done... I must seek forgiveness from her." She dabs her eyes and returns to Arthur's embrace.

"What do you remember, my lady?" Gaius gently asks.

"Gaius, I am not sure if..." Arthur starts.

"No... I need to," Guinevere answers. She repositions herself so she is still in Arthur's arms, but more upright.

"Talking about it might help," Gaius recommends, and Arthur nods.

Guinevere takes a deep breath. "I remember sneaking out of the castle and slipping into the stables to tamper with your saddle and... Tyr was there, sleeping."

"One of the horses was ill," Merlin adds. "He does that. Did that, I mean. He would stay if a horse was ailing, to care for it throughout the night."

Guinevere nods, remembering the sweet, caring stablehand who would only hurt a fly if it was bothering a horse. "He saw me... I had to..." she pinches her eyes shut, trying to remember, "ensure his silence by threatening his mother." Her breath hitches as guilty sobs start again.

Gaius reaches into his robes and withdraws a vial. He offers it to Guinevere. "Here, drink this, my lady."

"It's not a sleeping draught, is it?" she asks, not wishing to go to sleep right now.

"Merely a nerve tonic," Gaius explains. "It will calm you."

She hesitates, uncertain. "No," she refuses, "I… I deserve this anguish… I killed an innocent man and I shouldn't find solace until I have Mrs. Seward's forgiveness," she whispers.

"Guinevere," Arthur softly urges, "please take it. You may not be able to remember everything unless you are calm. Please."

She looks at Arthur, bites her lip, and takes the vial.

"Remember, my lady, it wasn't really you," Merlin softly advises.

Guinevere hesitantly nods, slowly drinks it, then hands it back to Gaius, murmuring her thanks. "Tyr promised me he wouldn't say anything. He... was so frightened... and confused," she continues. "Understandably so." She stops abruptly, looking at Gaius. "At times, Mrs. Seward would look after Elyan and me when we were children. She was always so kind to us…" she adds, faltering. Guinevere takes a deep breath and continues. "Later..." she looks up at Arthur. "I convinced you not to go talk to him," she says, furrowing her brows.

Arthur nods, frowning. "After Merlin reported that Tyr was being framed."

"That is when I began to suspect something was wrong," Merlin says. "I mentioned it to Gaius, and he assured me your strange behavior was a result of your ordeal and Elyan's subsequent death."

"I was wrong," Gaius sighs.

"I wasn't convinced anyway," Merlin says. "Sorry, Gwen. Please, continue."

"After Arthur was asleep, I slipped away... again... to talk to Tyr. I drugged the guards to put them to sleep?" Guinevere asks, unsure. The men nod, and she frowns. "I spoke to Tyr. I... he... he told me he didn't say anything... but I couldn't... I..." she breaks off squeezing her eyes shut again. "I stabbed him. I said something about... him talking, giving me away... and I just... stabbed him. I can still see his face. The fear in his eyes, the... surprise... no, shock..." She breaks down again, weeping into her hands. Arthur pulls her into his arms again. "He was completely innocent and I killed him without a thought!" she wails, her voice raspy.

"That's Morgana," Arthur softly says. "Ruthless. Heartless. She had a heart, once..."

Guinevere nods against his shoulder. "She did," she whispers, calming more quickly this time, possibly aided by Gaius' tonic.

"She's turned her back on everything good," Merlin says. "Which is why this enchantment is so difficult for you. She took the kindest person, you, Gwen, and turned you into a soulless assassin. I don't know anyone who has more goodness in them than you, and she robbed you of it. She made you everything you are not."

Guinevere nods. "I'm sorry, Merlin. For placing the blame on you for poisoning Arthur."

"It wasn't you, Gwen. It was Morgana. Please try to remember that," Merlin says. He reaches his hand out to her, and she places her hand in his, squeezing it gently.

"How did you find out for certain it was me?" she asks, wiping her eyes with the handkerchief, which has now grown quite damp.

"Your silk cloak. The bluish-gray one. It tore while you were in the forest, probably meeting with Morgana, and Gaius and I found the scrap."

"I was wondering how it got torn," she whispers absently. Then, she looks at her husband. "Arthur, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry," she says, collapsing against his chest and wrapping her arms around him.

"Guinevere, it's all right. I'm still alive, despite Morgana's best efforts," he says, intentionally emphasizing his half-sister's name to stress that he considers the attempts to be solely Morgana's doing and not Guinevere's. "I'm alive, you're freed from your enchantment, and we can move on with our lives."

"I want to talk to Mrs. Seward," Guinevere says, lifting her head again. "Today."

"Are you sure you want to do this today?" Arthur asks, glancing at Gaius, who is frowning.

"Yes. I want to speak with her as soon as possible."

"Why don't you wait until the afternoon?" Gaius suggests.

"Yes, Love, rest now. Gather your thoughts. Then, this afternoon we will visit Mrs. Seward," Arthur says.

"You don't have to come with if you have things you should be doing here," Guinevere says.

"There is nothing here that can't wait," Arthur declares. "I want to go with you."

"I'll come, too," Merlin offers. "If it's all right, I mean."

Guinevere nods. "Thank you," she softly says. She settles back in against Arthur. He bends down and kisses her forehead.

"Get some rest. You don't have to sleep, but please rest," Arthur whispers.

"Can you stay here with me?" she asks.

"Of course," he immediately answers.

xXx

Guinevere takes a deep breath and knocks on Gelda Seward's front door in the early afternoon. Merlin and Arthur are standing behind her, letting her take the lead.

"Just a moment," Mrs. Seward's voice softly sounds from behind the door. A moment later, the door opens. "Oh!" she exclaims, immediately dropping into a curtsey.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Seward," Guinevere softly says. "May we come in?"

"Of course, of course..." she answers, a bit bewildered. She steps aside and welcomes the king and queen into her home. "Forgive me, I wasn't expecting visitors," she fusses, wiping nonexistent dust from a chair and straightening an already-straight candlestick. "Please, sit," she motions toward the chair.

"You know Merlin, of course," Guinevere says, almost as an afterthought since she is so distracted.

"Yes, my lady, everyone knows Merlin," the older woman smiles at the servant. He returns the smile, standing beside Arthur, staying in the background. "May I offer you something to drink?" Mrs. Seward asks, wishing to be a good hostess.

"No, thank you," Guinevere answers, smiling kindly. "Please, will you sit with me?" she asks, taking the offered seat. Arthur and Merlin hover in the background, leaving the only other chair vacant.

"Please," Arthur nods towards the chair, indicating he wishes her to take the seat.

"Thank you, Sire," the older woman answers, sitting.

"That's the last of the wood split and piled, Missus," Percival ducks into the small house, not realizing she has visitors. "Oh, excuse me, my lady, my lord," he says, adding a nod towards Merlin as he stands, slightly stooped, in the small house.

"Quite all right, Percival. We were counting on your presence here during our visit," Arthur says.

The large knight nods, understanding the king's intent. He turns back to Mrs. Seward. "I've filled your water barrels, too, since I saw they were low."

"Thank you, sir," Mrs. Seward says. "Percival," she corrects herself, as Percival has obviously asked her to call him by his given name.

"You're very welcome, Missus." He smiles wistfully. "I enjoyed it. It reminded me of helping around the house when I was a lad."

"Your mother must be very proud of you," Mrs. Seward says.

"Yes, ma'am," Percival simply answers, not having the heart to tell her that his family is gone, slaughtered by Cenred's men years ago. "I'll stand guard outside," he concludes, nodding at Arthur, Guinevere, and Merlin before exiting.

"Thank you, Percival," Arthur responds, clapping the knight on his shoulder as he passes.

"He's a dear young man," Mrs. Seward says. "So helpful and kind. He reminds me of…" Her voice fails and she presses her lips together, overcome with memories of her lovable youngest son.

Arthur, Merlin, and Guinevere all exchange a sad look, realizing while the gentle knight stationed outside looks nothing like Tyr, both men have amiable and caring natures.

Mrs. Seward looks at Guinevere again, almost forgetting that the young woman sitting before her is the queen and not the sweet little girl she knew so long ago. "Oh, forgive me, my lady, I..."

"It's fine, Mrs. Seward. Really. And you're right, Percival is an excellent knight and a very good man," Guinevere says. She takes a deep breath. "I am sure you're wondering why we've called on you this afternoon," she begins.

"Yes," Mrs. Seward says. "I will admit I am very curious. It's not every day the king and queen pay a call on a simple old widow like me."

Guinevere sits quietly a moment, ordering her thoughts, trying to maintain her composure. "We have come to apologize. I owe you quite a large apology, I'm afraid, and... I fear there is nothing I can do to make amends for how I have wronged you."

The old woman's brow furrows. "I'm sorry, my lady... I don't understand..."

"Mrs. Seward, I have known you my entire life. You were my mother's friend, and I remember how you looked after my brother and me when she died. I remember the food you sent over even though you really couldn't spare it," Guinevere softly says, tears welling in her eyes. "I remember playing with Hyde... catching frogs... gathering twigs for kindling." She looks straight at Mrs. Seward. "Those memories are what makes this even more difficult to say. Forgive me for not reaching my point, but..." She sighs. "For approximately the past two weeks, I was under an enchantment. The Lady Morgana had control over me. Over every word I said, every move I made. I said and did things I would never have done had I been myself." A tear slips from her eye now. "I... I killed Tyr," she whispers. Mrs. Seward gasps, her hands flying to her mouth. "Under Morgana's enchantment, I killed your son. Your only remaining child. Words cannot express how sorry I am." Tears are flowing down her cheeks and dropping onto her skirt, leaving small, dark spots on the silk.

Gelda Seward says nothing, her eyes wide with shock. Stunned, she looks over at Arthur, her eyes questioning.

He gravely nods. "Guinevere would never tell you the details, but she was abducted, tortured, and finally, enchanted by Morgana." He pauses and takes a deep breath. "We realize knowing this does not return Tyr to you and we are so, so sorry."

Mrs. Seward hangs her head, weeping silently as she processes this information. "Tyr..." she whispers after a minute. "He was such a good boy... never did anything to anyone..."

"I know," Guinevere answers. She reaches out to touch the other woman's hand, but withdraws it, not sure if her gesture of comfort will be welcomed. Mrs. Seward's silence causes Guinevere to hesitate, yet she feels compelled to try to ease this dear woman's pain somehow. "I know..." she softly repeats. "I remember he was a sweet little boy. Gentle, honest. He was so good with the horses. He's missed in the... I miss seeing him." The queen moves forward, falling to her knees in front of the distraught woman. Her voice is quiet and slightly hoarse from crying. "Please, Mrs. Seward... I know there are no words, and... saying that I was under Morgana's control sounds like a feeble excuse..." she trails off, taking another deep, shuddering breath. "But, it is all I have. I cannot apologize enough. There aren't words in any language that... that can convey how deeply, deeply sorry..."

Mrs. Seward's sobs increase, and Guinevere lifts up and wraps her arms around the older woman's shoulders, embracing her as they mourn together.

Guinevere gently releases her after a minute, and Mrs. Seward finally speaks. "Morgana Pendragon has taken everything from me." She presses her handkerchief to her eyes, sniffles, and continues. "First, my Durwin, shot in the courtyard when she tried to take the throne." She looks at Arthur, who nods understandingly, his face sympathetic. "My husband was in the crowd when she ordered arrows shot into the townspeople. She made me a widow with no means to support myself. Hyde helped where he could, but he had a new wife to look after... Tyr was too young..."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Seward," Arthur softly answers. He realizes the truth in Guinevere's earlier words. It isn't adequate at all.

"When she attacked again at Beltane... that's when I lost Hyde, my oldest. He... he was just trying to protect his home... his wife... she was... expecting, and..." she falls to sobbing, and they know the lonely widow lost more than just a son and daughter-in-law that night.

Guinevere reaches for Mrs. Seward's hand again, this time gently placing it over hers. The older woman turns her hand and grasps Guinevere's, squeezing.

"Morgana Pendragon has taken everyone and everything from me," Mrs. Seward repeats, her voice shaky, but strong. She looks at Guinevere and sees only a scared girl, Anna and Tom's sweet daughter, not the Queen of Camelot. "I don't hold you responsible, Gwen," she says, forgetting titles and formalities. "If you say you were under an enchantment, I believe you. I know you as well as one of my... own..." Her voice falters on this last word, but she recovers. "You could never... would never murder anyone. I know this." She pauses, wiping her eyes with her free hand. "It was Morgana... it's always Morgana," she says bitterly. Then, her eyes soften and she looks at Guinevere. "I forgive you, child."

Guinevere exhales, her shoulders slumping in relief. "Thank you, Mrs. Seward. I cannot express how much this means to me. Once I realized... I could not bear the thought of… I… It was just this morning when I discovered... remembered… what happened..."

"You've had no memory of it before now?"

"Not really, no," she answers. "The enchantment was lifted the day before yesterday. I've only had… flashes of memories since then, but what I do remember is... horrifying. I want to know what happened... but, I don't..."

"Thank you for telling me, dear. It was... it was hard for me to hear," Mrs. Seward sighs. "I won't lie, it was awful. But, I know it was just as difficult for you to tell me. To come here and face me and tell me what you did, not knowing how I'd react. I thank you for... for respecting me enough to let me know, even though you're the queen and I'm just... I'm just me."

"A good queen respects her people, no matter who they are," Arthur says, his eyes locked on Guinevere.

"As does a good king," Guinevere says, turning to look at her husband, amazed he remembers those words from so long ago. She turns back to Mrs. Seward. "A good queen also tries to make amends for her wrongs. I know there is nothing I can do that will bring Tyr back to you, but if there's anything you need, anything at all, please tell us. Food, wood, candles... assistance. I can send Percival over twice a week, or more if you wish," she says, smiling as she recalls the older woman's growing fondness for the knight. "Of course, you'll be exempted from paying taxes... but if there's anything," she adds. "All you need to do is ask."

"No," Arthur softly speaks up. Guinevere and Mrs. Seward turn to look at him, confused. "She doesn't need to ask. We can do better."

"My lord?" Mrs. Seward asks.

"We will see that your needs are met. Food, water, firewood... whatever you require. We will make sure you have it," Arthur says. "Anything."

"Sire, that is too..."

"No, Arthur's right," Guinevere agrees. "I know it won't fill the holes in your heart, but... let us remove what hardships we can."

"Thank you, my lady. Thank you, my lord," Mrs. Seward says, squeezing Guinevere's hand as tears of gratitude slip from her eyes.

"You are most welcome, Mrs. Seward," Guinevere answers. Behind her, Arthur nods in acknowledgment.

Mrs. Seward looks down for a moment, and when she looks back up at the queen, her face is troubled. "My lady, when is this going to end?" she quietly asks. "When will Morgana stop?" she falls to tears again, and Guinevere wraps her arms around the older woman once more, letting her cry on her shoulder, absorbing her pain and loss. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but... How many more innocent people must lose their lives at her hand?" she hoarsely whispers.

Guinevere looks up at Arthur to see him exchanging a troubled look with Merlin. He turns his gaze on his wife, his face disturbed and thoughtful, his eyes reflecting his deep concern for his people and the weight of responsibility to protect them from this persistent threat to their safety and well-being. Elyan. My people. My knights. Countless others throughout the years...

As their eyes lock, a silent understanding passes between them.

Guinevere feels a shift in the air as she watches the expression on her husband's face slowly transform from concerned and sympathetic to steely and resolute as Mrs. Seward's words sink in.

Chapter Text

The brick is heavy and rough in my hand, familiar as I lift and set it into place with a satisfying thud. I slather a measure of mortar on the wall and another brick appears in my hand. I set it into place. The wall is high, and I place the bricks just above eye-level.

Mortar.

Brick.

"Arthur..."

Mortar.

Brick.

"Arthur..."

I pause in my work. Is that Guinevere?

Mortar.

Brick.

"Arthur, please..."

That is Guinevere.

Mortar.

"I'm here, Love," I answer, looking around. Surprisingly, I see her approaching on my right. Her voice seemed to be coming from another direction. She is floating gracefully, regally in her burgundy velvet gown and gold braided circlet. The picture of beauty. A true queen.

I set the brick in my hand in place and turn to face her, my hands outstretched as I walk to meet her. She curtseys prettily, and I nod deferentially in return, taking her hands. As I lift them to my lips, I hear the scrape of someone adding mortar to the wall, followed by the sound of a brick being set in place.

Who is building my wall?

I turn and look. I see myself, dressed in my white tunic and brown trousers, adding bricks to the wall. Confused, I look down to see myself in full dress mail and cape, my sword at my side.

"Arthur..."

I turn and look back at Guinevere. She slowly shakes her head.

"Arthur..."

The voice is coming from the other side of the wall. I see a boulder nearby and climb up, looking over the barrier.

Behind it is my Guinevere, clothed in her simpler lavender dress, theone she wore before she was queen, looking distraught and slightly disheveled, her cheeks streaked with tears. She calls my name again, wringing her hands, and I am struck with the memory of her in the same dress, looking similarly distraught, begging my forgiveness over three years ago.

It breaks my heart to see her like this. I look around and see no opening in the wall. It extends for miles to the right and miles to the left. Troubled, I leap down from my perch and stride over to my other self. I place my hand on his shoulder and he stops building, turning to face me. A large mallet appears in my hand and I offer it. My other self shakes his head, indicating he won't take it.

"Arthur… please…"

Her voice is weaker, and I rush back to the boulder and peer over at her. She looks slightly different, now clothed in the light blue gown she was wearing when I proposed the second time, but her upturned face is still full of anguish. I can see her lips forming the word "please", but I can barely hear her.

She is fading from sight.

Growing frantic, I turn to face my queen and, to my horror, she is not there.

Where is she?

A sudden chill creeps down my back. I scramble onto the boulder again and look over the wall. Both Guineveres are standing there. Both are distraught.

Queen Guinevere is fading. Guinevere is becoming fainter as well.

I leap off the boulder and run to my other self, myself as a man, not a king, and yell at him to help me. He stands there silently, unmoving as stone.

My heart drops to my stomach and my knees start to buckle. Desperate, I thrust the mallet into his hand.

I feel a weight in my hand and look down. The mallet is in my own hand, and I am now wearing my white tunic and brown trousers.

"Arthur…" It is but a whisper.

My heart pounding, I rear back to strike the wall, then bring the mallet forward. The wall doesn't break.

I regroup and try again.

Nothing.

I try once more, swinging with all my might. Small chips fall from a few of the bricks.

I drop my head, tears streaming from my eyes, breathing heavily, frustrated.

I don't hear any sounds from the other side of the wall. In a panic, I drop the mallet and scale the wall, peering over just in time to see Guinevere reach her hand up to me right before she completely fades and disappears.

"No..." I whisper, dropping my head against the bricks.

I cry out, wordlessly and full of anguish, as though my very soul is being ripped from my body. I drop gracelessly to the ground and begin shoving at the wall, running at it with my shoulder, pounding at it with my fists. I punch and push until my knuckles are bloody, screaming her name over and over, knowing in my gut she will come back if I can only break through.

"Guinevere! Guinev—"

"Arthur!"

Arthur blinks awake, thrashing about in the bed. He's completely drenched with sweat and tears and his heart is pounding. "Guinevere," he gasps, pulling her into his embrace, holding her so tightly she squeaks a small protest. He loosens his grasp just a little, clinging to her, kissing her wherever his lips can reach.

"Arthur, what is it?" Guinevere asks, worried and a little frightened. It's the middle of the night, still fully dark outside, but Arthur has startled her into wakefulness. She can feel his racing heartbeat and reaches up to gently wipe his face. She smoothes his damp hair from his forehead. "You were shouting my name. It was a nightmare, wasn't it?"

He nods. Eventually, his breathing and heartbeat return to normal. "I've had it several times. The same one," he quietly starts, relaxing his hold on her a little. "Since... since our wedding. It returns periodically, but... I've had it every night for the last three nights, including this one ."

"Arthur, I'm sorry," Guinevere says. It has been three nights since she had told him about her experiences during her banishment. "Have you been waking up like this and I haven't noticed?" she asks, troubled.

"No," he croaks. "This is the first time the dream has gone this far." He shudders and clings tightly to her once again, the image of his wife disappearing before his eyes returning to his consciousness.

"Do you remember?" she asks. "Will you tell me?"

He nods. "I want to light a candle first. I need to see you better," he says, reluctantly leaving her to light a thin wooden taper from the dying embers in the fireplace.

Guinevere scrambles out of bed after him and moves in the opposite direction, startling Arthur. "Where are you going?" he asks, panic starting to fill his heart.

"I'm getting you a fresh shirt; yours is soaked through," she gently says, holding the garment up for him to see.

"Oh..." Arthur sighs, relieved. He brings the lit taper to the bedside and touches it to a candle on the nightstand. Then, he extinguishes it and carefully sets it down.

He pulls his damp shirt off and sets it aside, then takes the dry shirt from Guinevere and pulls it over his head as he sits on the bed. He studies his wife for a long moment, drinking her in, grasping her hands to assure himself of her presence. "It always starts the same," he says. "I'm building a wall."

He goes on to describe his dream and she listens attentively, carefully, not interrupting with questions or comments, letting him talk it through.

"I couldn't break the wall... I couldn't get to you..." he finishes, fresh tears flowing. "I couldn't get to the... the simple version of you... the you with whom I fell in love... and the version that was queen appeared on the other side, too... and she disappeared... she disappeared first. I couldn't get to you... I couldn't save you... I felt so hopeless, so... desolate."

"Do you think this dream is trying to tell you something?" Guinevere asks, caressing his face, thumbing away his tears. She has a definite feeling there is a message in his dream. Why else would it return again and again?

Arthur nods. "It must, since it won't leave me alone," he says, echoing her thoughts. "I haven't been able to reason out why there were two versions of us," he muses. "Usually, the dream ends when I see you, the queen you, and walk towards you. Everything after that was new tonight. No, wait..." he furrows his brows, trying to organize his thoughts. "I saw you on the other side of the wall last night, but I don't remember anything past that. But, why couldn't I break the wall? And, why were you initially on my side of the wall as a queen but not as a woma... oh..." he trails off, blinking "Oh, no. No, no, no..."

"Arthur?"

"My God... have I really...?" His eyes widen, his mind reeling as he thinks back over the three years of their marriage, recalling various scenarios and times when he's pushed her aside without realizing it or turned his back on her, telling himself he was protecting her by keeping her in the dark. "I... I have... I haven't..."

"What is it, Arthur?" she asks, concerned.

He looks at her, his face full of horrified clarity. "I have been trusting you with my kingdom, but not with my heart," he simply says. Guinevere feels tears pricking at her eyes now, her hand over her mouth as she slowly nods. "That's what the dream means. That's why the queen you was on one side in the beginning of the dream and the woman you was on the other. That's why I had been building the wall."

Guinevere says nothing, speechless. Her heart is pounding and she feels an unpleasant wobble in her stomach. All those months... years of growing distance between us. I already knew this, but I... Her face crumples and she bites her lower lip, wiping her eyes and waiting for him to continue.

He tentatively reaches for her hand, his long fingers easily surrounding her small ones. "I'm so, so sorry, Guinevere. I thought I had forgiven you... well, I had forgiven you, but I wasn't letting myself fully trust that you... I mean, Lancelot is dead, but... oh, God!" His voice breaks as he finishes, mortified with himself. "What have I done?" he whispers, withdrawing his hand to place both over his face, devastated.

Guinevere squeezes her eyes shut, trying to withstand the stab to her heart. "So, the only reason you believed we could go forth and marry is because Lancelot was dead? In your mind, it would all be fine because he was no longer an issue?"

Arthur starts to reply, but as the questions his wife poses sink into his heart, he realizes the truth. And, it silences him. Guinevere opens her eyes, looks down at her wedding ring, and whispers to herself, "You and I never had a chance then…" Suddenly, the hurt washes over Guinevere in a wave, and she looks up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. "Why did you propose again, Arthur? If you couldn't let yourself trust me... why?" she asks, wounded and confused.

"I... I just loved you too much..." he answers, his voice weak and hesitant. "I saw Isolde die and how it broke Tristan, and I knew... in that moment, I knew that... that I couldn't live without you. I was so miserable while you were gone... I could barely function. I needed you. I... couldn't picture an existence without you in it..."

"That doesn't sound like love, Arthur," Guinevere quietly answers. "It sounds like fear."

His eyes widen and he looks away. "I did lo— I mean, I do love you. I always have and I always will," he says, looking back at her. "You must believe me. You took my heart with you when you left," he insists.

"Love was never the issue," Guinevere says, looking down at her hands. "We have always loved each other. Yet, fear replaced it somehow..."

"Guinevere, I...I wanted you to stay. I asked you to marry me again. I was the one who forbade any talk of what occurred. Everything that has happened or didn't happen from then on is my responsibility. I never should have welcomed you back if I wasn't able to fully give myself to you in every way. It wasn't fair to you. To us."

Tears that were, up until this moment, held back now fall as Guinevere absorbs her husband's words.

"Arthur," she cautiously starts, reluctant to revisit this painful topic. "When I asked you a few days ago if everything we had before was truly gone, you said it wasn't."

Arthur hangs his head. "I thought it wasn't gone. I think I was wrong. But, only because I wouldn't allow it to come back. I didn't even realize I wasn't allowing it." He looks at Guinevere, at the tears in her eyes.

Silence reigns for several seconds as Guinevere ponders Arthur's words. It is as if we have both been locked in the dungeon. In separate cells. Far apart.

"I was so lonely, Arthur," Guinevere suddenly says, her voice soft but full of anguish. "I... I knew something wasn't right between us, but I could never put my finger on it until tonight."

His brow furrows. "Why did you never say anything?" he asks, but as soon as the words are out, he knows the answer.

"Because you would have either denied it or refused to discuss it, then changed the subject," she answers.

"You're right," Arthur sadly agrees after a pause. "Guinevere, I am so—" his next words are halted by his wife's soft hand touching his lips.

"Arthur, please. Stop. I need you to listen. Please." Arthur nods his head and focuses on her, determined to let her speak no matter how much he fears what she may say.

Guinevere takes a deep breath, wipes her eyes and continues. "I understand why you kept me away from your heart. You were reacting to what you believed to be true, that I betrayed you, and until recently had no evidence to the contrary. However, in the same way I have listened to and understood your reactions, Arthur, please grant me the same courtesy. I need you to listen. I need you to know how this has affected me."

Arthur nods and remains silent.

"In truth, I... I felt more like your wife and queen before we were married. Before the first enchantment. When you would... when you would steal kisses in hidden alcoves... when you would come to me for advice in abandoned corridors... or just to share your ideas, hopes, dreams, and fears... when you could just be yourself because you were with me," she says, closing her eyes, the sweet memories now slightly painful.

"I miss being myself with you." He whispers the admission, wondering what happened to that man, the man who was willing to cast aside his title and his kingdom because of his love for this amazing woman.

"And..." she hesitates, looking down.

"Please," he urges, "tell me."

She looks up at him. "You took me back despite the fact that I betrayed you – remember, I also thought I had done it – and... part of me felt that I should just be grateful to be your queen, even if sometimes I didn't really feel like I was truly your wife. So, I kept quiet about my worries... because I didn't feel I had the right. I didn't want to burden you with them."

"Oh, Guinevere... I thought you were satisfied with how things were..." He kisses her hand again and his heart breaks, stricken by how deeply his wife has been hurting all this time.

Guinevere's breath hitches into a sob and she starts crying in earnest, the floodgates now opened. "You... you said you trusted me with your kingdom... that you valued me as a... queen more than... a wife... but..." She gently pulls her hand from his to wipe her eyes with both, then covers her face with them. "But, I'm not... I don't feel like..." She drops her hands, frustrated. "I'm a failure as queen as well!" she finally says, almost shouting now in frustration and grief.

Arthur reflexively wraps his arms around her, and she sobs on his shoulder. "Why do you feel that way? You are a wonderful queen," he says, rubbing circles on her back. "The people love you, the nobles have not only accepted you as queen, but most of them like and respect you..."

"Baby..." she sobs. Hard.

Baby. It's a small word, but it tells Arthur everything he needs to know.

Arthur closes his eyes, the familiar pang hitting him. It's the same feeling he gets every time Guinevere tells him her monthly has arrived. Always exactly on time, with the new moon. "Guinevere, it's..."

She lifts her head, pulling away, and sinking into herself. "It's a queen's primary job, Arthur," she says, wiping her eyes again. "Do you think I don't hear what people whisper behind my back? Do you think I don't know what the Ladies of the Court are saying behind closed doors? Do you think I don't cry on each and every new moon when I bleed?" As she remembers the pain from the ongoing monthly disappointment and the loneliness of bearing it without comfort from her husband, she involuntarily shifts away from him and curls into herself.

"I don't know what to say," Arthur says, tentatively reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear before dropping his hand. "I'm so sor—"

"Please stop apologizing, Arthur," she interrupts, flinching as if a scab has been pulled off. Again. "I know you're sorry. And, you don't need to say anything. There's nothing you can say." Her voice breaks and she stops, her face crumpling as the tears continue unabated. When she resumes, her voice is hoarse and weak. "It's... it's my problem, but not being able to talk to you about it has been killing me!" Arthur is temporarily stunned as she curls even tighter, shielding herself from new and remembered pain.

He reaches out to her. Guinevere remains very still and tense as he pulls her to him. After a few moments of holding his wife, caressing her face, stroking away her pain, kissing her hair, and whispering sweet endearments, she begins to relax and sink into his arms. Arthur caresses her face and continues to soothe her. Guinevere slowly puts her arms around her husband, barely able to hold on, yet grateful for his support while her pent-up emotions slowly ebb.

"Guinevere, your problems are my problems as well. I had no idea you were so distraught about this," he says, and immediately realizes something. "Oh. I see."

"Yes," she agrees. "This is our marriage, our family, and everyone is talking about this except us. Ella told me that when you and Merlin took me to have my enchantment lifted, there were rumors going around that we were really going to see a witch about getting me with child."

"What?" Arthur asks. "That's preposterous!"

"It doesn't matter whether it's preposterous or not. It's what people think. It's what I hear when people think I'm not listening."

"What doesn't matter is what other people think," he says, scowling.

"Does it matter what I think, Arthur?" she gently inquires.

"Of course, it does, Love," he replies and tenderly touches her cheek.

Guinevere, bolstered by his response, searches for words that have been buried for far too long. "It is easy for you to dismiss what is said because you are not surrounded by it all the time, Arthur. You've had your whole life to learn how to ignore the whispers. I haven't had that luxury," Guinevere points out. "Besides, there's more to it than producing an heir for Camelot." She takes Arthur's hand and places it over her heart. "I want to have your baby, Arthur. For us. Because I'm your wife and I love you. I want to bring a little life into this world that's half you and half me and all wonderful."

"I want that, too," Arthur softly admits. "A little boy to train. A little girl to spoil." Images of an energetic little boy with dark curly hair and a wooden sword or a sweet little girl with Guinevere's eyes and a fistful of wildflowers dance through his mind, and his heart aches. He looks at his wife's beautiful, sad face and his heart aches further. "Truly, Guinevere, if you are not able to conceive a child, I would not love you any less. I wouldn't cast you aside or punish you, as some men might. You would still be my wife, my love, my... my world. I know you don't need to hear it again, but I need to say it. I'm sorry. I can't even say how much, because the words don't exist. Like I said before, I want you to be able to talk to me about anything and everything. Please. I promise I will listen. I promise my heart and mind will be open."

"I'd like that," she whispers, hopeful. He squeezes her hand. "There were so many times I wanted to talk to you, to let you see my tears... but you were so..."

"Unavailable," he mutters, feeling small. "I... I understand now, Guinevere. Honestly, I do. I've hurt you, and the fact that I didn't even realize I was doing it... just makes it worse. I feel so... ashamed."

Guinevere bows her head. "That's how I feel most of the time. Ashamed. For not being able to produce an heir. For betraying you. It made me feel like... like I didn't deserve your love or your time."

"No, Love, no... It is I who is at fault," Arthur emphatically says. "I've treated you so unfairly, Guinevere. I pushed you aside when I should have listened to you... like... like the time you challenged me about my motives for helping Mithian when Odin attacked Nemeth. You were correct, of course, and I denied it."

"I know," she softly agrees, nodding. "I knew even then that you were not being honest. With either of us."

He sadly nods, feeling guilty. "And the fire... if it weren't for my selfishness, my foolishness... thank goodness Merlin got to you... but you would have cautioned me against using that horn, so I kept it from you..."

"Arthur, what are you talking about?"

"When you were trapped in the kitchens with the fire. I caused that. Indirectly," he explains. He goes on to briefly tell her about the Horn of Cathbhadh and what he'd done.

Guinevere is shocked. She says nothing for a long minute, thinking over what he has just told her, her heart a jumble of emotions. "Thank you for telling me," she whispers. "I can't say it pleases me to hear this, but thank you."

"You almost died because of me. Again," Arthur says.

Guinevere nods because she doesn't know what to say. Her hurt and disappointment are mixing with the sympathy she feels for her husband, and her mind is a jumble. "I was coughing for two weeks after that," she whispers, frowning as the unpleasant memories of that ordeal and her recovery return.

"I know," he answers. "I know. I..." he pauses, struggling with his thoughts, "I have no excuse. I could say I felt vulnerable and alone, but that would just make it worse. I could say I was feeling insecure, but... not much better." He forlornly looks at her. "I was a fool. Plain and simple. I had to learn the hard way what everyone around me already knew about my father. I was a fool to not see his true colors before, and I was an even bigger fool for pushing you aside. And, I hurt you, physically and emotionally, in the process."

"What stings the most is that Merlin knew," she says, wiping her tears again. "You know I love Merlin, but you trusted him over me, and it hurts more than I can say."

"I understand that now, Guinevere," he replies, his voice breaking. "Please tell me you see this is what I'm trying to correct... by taking down the wall I was building in my dream..."

"I do see it, Arthur. It doesn't mean I'm not hurt and frustrated by what happened." Guinevere wipes away her tears again, and Arthur catches her hand, holding it to his cheek. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wonders, Will I never stop crying? Will my heart never stop breaking?

"I'm so sorry. I should have told you. I should have told you immediately after, at the very latest."

"Yes, you should have," she says, frowning. "I don't know if I would have cautioned you against it. I've lost both my parents, too."

"Yes, Love, of course," he softly answers, kissing her hand. He takes a deep breath, inhaling slowly, then exhaling heavily. "Can you forgive me, Guinevere? I was so wrong. I shouldn't have kept anything from you. I... I have asked you to please tell me everything, and yet there I was, sneaking around behind your back like a common thief. Like... an adulterer." He looks away, ashamed. "I was unfaithful to you," he whispers. "Not by lying with other women, but by keeping part of my heart closed off when all of it belongs to you." He returns his gaze to her, looking deep into her soft brown eyes. "I promise you it will not happen again. Ever."

Guinevere says nothing, her face solemn as, once again, she ponders all that her husband has said and the irony of it.

"How do you feel? Can you tell me?" Arthur cautiously inquires.

Silence.

He tries again. "Are you angry?"

Guinevere does not answer right away, removes her hand from his, and continues to wipe away her tears. Arthur uses the sleeve of his tunic to help her.

"Will you please bring me a handkerchief? I need to blow my nose."

"Right. Of course." Arthur scrambles out of bed and runs to Guinevere's vanity. He spies a stack of handkerchiefs on the corner by the mirror and retrieves several, hurrying back to their bed, trying not to fidget as his wife cares for her nose. He watches her and is struck by an idea. Arthur walks over to the pitcher placed on the long table and pours a cup of water, bringing it to her.

Guinevere gratefully accepts the water with murmured thanks, drinks deeply, then hands the cup to Arthur who places it on the nightstand. She wipes her eyes once or twice more, then sighs. After what seems like a very long time, she answers.

"Yes, Arthur. I am angry. Not so much at you, but at… I am not sure at what or who," she finishes helplessly. More silence. Arthur watches her, tears brimming in his eyes as he waits patiently and silently, hanging on her every word. Gathering her thoughts, she continues, "When I think of all the years we waited to be together, all the obstacles we had to overcome, only to be married… and after… the wasted time and opportunities… because of…" She takes a deep breath and Arthur waits again, inadvertently holding his breath. Several seconds of quiet ensue, but Arthur will not break the silence lest he interrupt her chain of thought.

Both Arthur and Guinevere know, without a whisper of doubt, that what happens in the next few moments will determine the course of their lives. Forever.

Guinevere closes her eyes, then opens them to gaze into her husband's. She sees his concern for her and his pain, his regret. She knows those feelings all too well and how desperately hopeless they can make one feel. She shakes her head. "How can I be angry at you, Arthur? You have told me everything and taken responsibility for all of it. You had shown me great mercy and forgiveness when you and I had every reason to believe I betrayed you. How could I not extend the same love and grace to you?"

Arthur searches his wife's face for several seconds, assuring himself what he heard was actually spoken. Then, sighing in relief, he gathers Guinevere in his arms, squeezes her, and leans back to gently touch her forehead with his own. He blinks back tears. "Guinevere… I…" He swallows hard, unable to continue.

"I forgive you, Arthur," she whispers, realizing that no matter how much she is hurt by his actions, facing and owning up to them, realizing how much he has wounded her in the process is much more painful for him. She knows Arthur. She understands his mind and heart, and she knows that this is a breakthrough, not a setback.

"Thank you, Guinevere. My love," he answers, his voice hoarse. He leans forward and kisses her cheek, lingering a moment to rest his forehead against her temple, smelling her hair, breathing her in.

Guinevere wraps her arms around him again, holding him, running her fingers through his hair. "Can you... can you break down the wall you have built?" she carefully asks, hoping he understands what she's really asking.

"Yes," he immediately answers, lifting his head and looking into his wife's eyes. "Yes. If that dream comes back, I will be able to knock that wall down with my little finger." He holds up the aforementioned finger. "But, it won't even take that much. I'll be able to make the wall tumble with little more than a breath."

Guinevere looks at Arthur, at the anguish in her beloved's face. Any hurt she feels at his confession fades when she sees the pain in his eyes. She can see his love – and trust – for her shining through behind the pain, and only wants to help him, to take his hand and guide him back to himself just as he has done for her. Because that's what you do when you love someone.

"Thank you, Arthur," she whispers, granting him a soft kiss on the lips. She feels his breath catch as her lips make contact with his. "I believe you, Love. I can see that wall coming down even now," she adds, smiling softly as she caresses his cheek.

Arthur sinks against her, relief flooding through him and through Guinevere as well. She catches and holds him, supporting his body with her own. She can feel the wetness of his tears on her neck and shoulder, the soft press of his lips against her skin.

After a few moments, he lifts his head and kisses her. "I want things to be the way they were." He pauses. "No. I want things to be better. This is completely my doing, Guinevere, and I intend to correct it. As rulers, we are powerful, an effective team, a force with which to be reckoned. We should be the same as husband and wife. Even more so. United. Balancing one another. Your strengths should balance my weaknesses as my wife as well as my queen, just as my strengths should balance your weaknesses as your husband, not just as king."

"Yes, Arthur. I want that, too," she agrees.

"I realize what the dream means, about what it was warning me. I was protecting myself, protecting my heart. In doing so, I have utterly neglected yours. I was wrong. So wrong." He kisses her hand. "My dear and only Guinevere, I pledge that not only do I freely and fully give to you my heart, I pledge that if you will entrust it to me, I will continually seek, listen to, look after, and protect your heart to the end of my days." He pauses, searching the lovely brown depths of his beautiful wife's eyes. "Do you trust me, Guinevere? In spite of all the hurt I have caused?"

Guinevere smiles as happy tears threaten to spill, kisses her husband, and whispers, "I do."

xXx

"Tell me more about this horn, please," Guinevere says at length. She and Arthur have tucked themselves back into bed, the candle has burned down to nothing, and they're just lying together, holding one another.

"Do you want to know the long version?" he asks. "What I told you before was just the... the summary."

"Yes, I think so," she answers.

He tells her, giving every detail he remembers. Guinevere relates her experience back to him, even though she had told him when she woke up after Gaius had treated her. Arthur wanted to hear it all again, now that his heart and mind are fully open to his wife. Now that he can truly listen and take in what she has to say and what she has experienced.

"I do understand why you wanted to see him again," Guinevere says once he has finished. "But… I likely would have advised you to take some time and really think about your motives. To make certain you were summoning him for the right reasons."

"Yes, of course," Arthur says, suddenly realizing how much he's lost over the past three years by staying behind this wall he had constructed around his heart. Like my father did. He kept everyone at arms' length and look where it got him. "I don't know that I was doing it for the right reasons. I was… searching for his approval again, and he only said those horrible, hateful things about my rule and about you."

"To be honest, I am not terribly surprised at what he said about me. Rather ungrateful of him, though, considering I nursed him for over a year despite all he had done to me and my family." Her words are bold and uncharacteristic, but they needed saying, and now she's not afraid to say them.

Arthur nods, caressing her shoulder. "He was… he was so wrong. So stubborn, so blind. I truly see that now. I was finally able to see the tyrant I wouldn't allow myself to recognize while he was alive." He reaches up and caresses her cheek. "When I sent him back… I told him… I told him it wasn't his kingdom any more. I told him it was my turn now."

"I'm glad," Guinevere says, pleased to know that Arthur had finally stood up to Uther, even if it was his ghost. She is glad to see her husband free to be himself, free to confidently listen to his heart and trust his instincts. He takes her hand in his and holds it on his chest, over that same, wonderful heart. She smiles, sighs, then quietly asks, "Where is the horn now?"

"Somewhere in the vaults. I had Merlin hide it down there and made him promise not to tell me where he put it," Arthur says, sitting back. "So I wouldn't be tempted."

Guinevere nods. "Good. Merlin should be allowed back down there. Eventually."

"Hmm?"

"I'm sure there are magical items down there. Things of which he may have use one day."

"Yes... yes, I suppose so," Arthur acknowledges. "I don't want to talk about Merlin right now," he adds.

Guinevere smiles and leans up to kiss his neck. He squeezes her in return, his hand sliding down from her shoulder to rest on her hip. "Arthur?"

"Yes?"

"Now that I've had some time to think, it's probably a good thing we haven't had a child yet. I mean, considering how we were... or weren't..."

"Yes, I agree," he says. "It would have complicated our problems, and the child likely would have been caught in the middle." He bends his head and kisses his beloved's forehead. "Perhaps fate is kinder than we realize."

Guinevere cuddles closer, hooking her leg over his. "Perhaps, my love."

xXx

"Arthur... Arthur!" Merlin gingerly pokes Arthur's shoulder, trying to wake him without disturbing Guinevere. When he entered the royal chambers, he was surprised to discover the queen hadn't yet risen. Typically, she's awake and out of bed before Merlin arrives, seated at her vanity or gazing out the window, usually with her dressing gown on over her nightdress. Before Ella became her handmaiden, she would often be dressed.

But, this morning, she's curled on her side, blankets up to her ear, with Arthur spooned behind her.

"Go away," Arthur quietly grumbles, turning slightly towards his servant. Merlin jumps back and turns away. Arthur's movement has revealed a portion of Guinevere's shoulder and back. Guinevere's bare shoulder and back.

"You have training this morning," Merlin says, his back to Arthur. This hasn't happened since just after they were married. Usually, they're much more discreet. Gwen is generally very mindful of propriety, he puzzles.

"Leon can run it," Arthur answers. Merlin can hear him setting back into bed, clearly having no intention of rising.

"But..."

"Merlin," Arthur interrupts, turning towards Merlin again, "we were up most of the night—"

"Yes, I—" Merlin stammers, his ears turning bright red.

"Talking," the king emphasizes. "Well, mostly. Regardless, we both need sleep, and sleep we shall have."

"Arthur..." Guinevere mumbles, stirring, "what...?"

"Shh, Love, go back to sleep," Arthur softly says, snuggling against her and kissing her hair.

Merlin sighs. "I'll inform Sir Leon," he says. "And I guess I'll just... handle things until..."

"We are not to be disturbed before noon," Arthur mutters drowsily.

"Yes, my lord," Merlin says. He pauses. "Oh, Mrs. Seward's delivery is being made. I saw the cart go out just moments ago," he informs. Arthur grunts a nearly-intelligible "thank you" in response, and Merlin heads back through the curtains and out the door, wondering what it was they were up most of the night discussing. Obviously, it was something important.

He sees Ella in the corridor, heading towards him, and he stops her. "They're not to be disturbed until noon," he tells her.

She nods, but looks confused. "Is everything all right?" she asks, still concerned about her mistress after her breakdown two days past.

"Yes, they're fine, nothing to worry about," Merlin smiles reassuringly, and heads towards the training grounds. Yes. Nothing to worry about at all. He's not sure how, but he knows whatever happened between the king and queen last night was something very good.

Chapter Text

The new moon came the following week. This time when Guinevere wept, it was not as much as before and she did so in Arthur's arms. He didn't say a word; he just held her, giving her small, soft kisses and stroking her back.

"It's... it's probably a good thing this time," she said with a sniffle, lifting her head. "If I had conceived while under Morgana's enchantment..."

Arthur kissed her softly, gently stopping her words. "Guinevere, we were only together once during your enchantment," he reminded her, his thumbs tenderly sweeping the tears from her cheeks. "We've been together several times since we've returned, however," he added, waggling his brows, intending to coax a smile from her.

His attempt worked, and she smiled, a small giggle also escaping. "Yes, I suppose we have," she allowed. "Still, it's good that there is no chance, no cause for concern over..." she could not bring herself to finish the sentence, too many questions whirring in her brain. Would the enchantment have affected the baby? Would the lifting of the enchantment have harmed him? Would I... would we... would we have not loved the baby as much as he deserved because of the shadow looming over him from possibly being conceived under unfortunate circumstances? The last thought was almost too much to bear, and a few more tears slipped from her eyes.

"Guinevere... I know, I know," Arthur soothed, pulling her into his arms again, obviously plagued by the same fears. "But," he stopped, swallowing hard, "but, we can put those concerns behind us. It didn't happen, and for the first time in three years, we can... we can take comfort in the fact that my seed has not taken hold."

She nodded and lifted her face to his, kissing him. "Yes," she said. "Just this once," she added with a gentle smile.

Guinevere gradually returned to her normal duties, attending Council meetings and audiences in the throne room. Merlin began tutoring Mordred, helping him control and develop his gifts. Occasionally, Arthur sat in and watched these sessions. He did so first out of curiosity. The times after that were out of interest. He found he was fascinated by watching Merlin and Mordred, amazed at what his manservant could do. Mordred continued to flourish as a knight as well, and when he wasn't with Merlin, he was following Leon around like an eager puppy, wishing to learn all he could.

Percival looked in on Mrs. Seward twice a week, more if she asked. He genuinely liked the kind older woman, and when she found out his family had all died at Cenred's hands, they fell into a sort of mother-son relationship, filling a void in both their lives. He also decided to appoint himself the Queen's Bodyguard. When he wasn't fulfilling his knightly duties or assisting Mrs. Seward, he was usually not far from Queen Guinevere, keeping her under his watchful eye.

The days passed as they do; some fast, some slow. The slow days are by far the worst because thoughts and memories creep in to fill the empty spaces. Once, Arthur entered the royal chambers, tired and sweaty from training, to find his wife sitting and staring absently out the window, a book forgotten in her lap.

"Guinevere," he softly called her name, walking towards her. She turned and looked at him, her face sad. "What's wrong, my love?"

"Just... thinking. Remembering," she said.

"Remembering what?" he asked, sitting beside her on the upholstered bench.

She set her book aside. "Elyan. Morgana. Lancelot. How they used to be."

Arthur nodded, realizing he doesn't feel any jealousy over her mention of Lancelot. It's over and done. "Anything else?" he asked, caressing her cheek.

"Three years," she quietly said. She doesn't need to elaborate.

"Three years for which we need to make up." He smiled apologetically.

She quirked her head at him. "I no longer see it that way," she said. "We had the one big problem that needed sorting out. We've had our disagreements and trials; every couple does. But, we cannot forget that we also had some very happy moments, Arthur."

"Not every couple has a husband who was an idiot for three years," Arthur pointed out.

"You are not an idiot, Arthur," she disagreed. "You were protecting yourself. You've been betrayed so many times by those closest to you."

"That is an unacceptable excuse," Arthur said, frowning.

Guinevere took his hands in hers. "Do we need to have this conversation again? Is there something that still troubles you?" she gently asked, searching her husband's face for any lingering doubt. She patiently waited while Arthur pondered her questions.

"No," he affirmed.

Guinevere placed her hand on his cheek and continued. "Good. Even so, it is good for us to remember those years. I think we've learned that pretending something didn't happen does not erase it."

"I think we've learned that it makes it worse, actually," Arthur pointed out.

Guinevere nodded. "We must keep these things in mind so we do not repeat them."

"No more sweeping anything under the rug, my love," he agreed, kissing her.

xXx

Guinevere has been anxious all day. A month has passed since the last new moon, and tonight is the next one.

Tonight is the new moon, and she hasn't bled yet. Every time she has to empty her bladder, she holds her breath, expecting to find the kind of blood that is always there on this day. Always.

She's been like clockwork since her courses started. New moon: blood. Guinevere knows she is fortunate in this. It doesn't happen on an odd phase of the moon, one that is more difficult to pinpoint. It's regular and predictable. When she was still a servant, she would hear some of the other serving girls complaining about how their courses were inconsistent. One unfortunate girl would bleed for weeks and then not at all for the next several months, forcing her to see the midwife regularly for medicinal herbs.

So, come bedtime when there is still no blood, Guinevere doesn't know whether to be hopeful or not. Would it be jumping to conclusions? Dare I hope?

"Guinevere," Arthur says after she emerges from behind the privacy screen, "it's the new moon, Love..." he cautiously starts, watching her pace. He hasn't seen her much today, but in the back of his mind he has been aware all along of this day's significance. "Guinevere," he repeats, approaching her and stopping her fretful pacing with his hands on her shoulders.

"I know," she answers, stepping into his embrace. She rests her head on his chest. "I... there's nothing," she whispers.

"Nothing? Nothing as in... no baby, or nothing as in no blood?" he asks, his heart suddenly pounding.

"No blood," she says, looking up at him. She searches his eyes, hoping to find answers in their blue depths, but he looks just as befuddled as she. "I've been checking almost obsessively..."

"Does that mean...?" he asks, holding his breath.

"I don't know," she answers. "I've never been late before, as you know, but... I'm... I'm frightened, Arthur. I'm afraid to even hope."

He tightens his arms around her, holding her gently but securely, resting his cheek on the top of her head. "I know, Love, I know. We shouldn't jump to conclusions," he says, but doesn't feel the words. Arthur guides her to the bed, where he sits and pulls her onto his lap. "How do you feel?" he asks, trying to approach this logically.

"Physically, the same. Emotionally, I'm a bit scattered," she says. "I mean, I'm tired and my emotions are all over the place, but that could be caused as much by all that has happened as much as being with child." Arthur gives her an incredulous look, wondering how she knows she would be tired and moody if she was with child. "Women talk about these things, Arthur," she explains. "Honestly, though, I don't know how to feel. If I should be hopeful or worried. What if something is wrong, and that's the reason I haven't..."

"Shh, don't say things like that," Arthur gently hushes, kissing her. "All right. Let's think. If... if there is still nothing by the end of the day tomorrow, we'll bring in the midwife to examine you."

"Tomorrow? Should we not wait another day further?" she asks, not wishing to be hasty.

"Guinevere, you'll drive yourself mad by then," Arthur points out. "And, I won't be faring much better," he admits. He kisses her again, then slides her from his lap. "Come. Let's get some sleep."

"I'll try," she says, slipping beneath the covers. Arthur walks around to the other side and joins her, pulling her into his arms. She cuddles against him, grateful for his solid, warm presence. "Thank you, Arthur."

"You're welcome, Guinevere," he answers. "For what am I being thanked, exactly?"

She lightly swats his chest. "For being here with me. For listening. For keeping a calm head while I'm losing mine."

He smiles and kisses her forehead. "Usually, it is you who has the calm head, my love," he points out. "And, trust me, this composed demeanor is all on the outside," he admits. "Inside, I'm a gooey mess over the possibility of a baby."

xXx

"Well?"

Arthur has been fretful all day, hovering over Guinevere like a mother hen. Every time she returns from excusing herself, he asks.

"Arthur, I just needed a handkerchief," she says, trying to remain patient with him while she's on pins and needles herself. She sits at the table and picks at her lunch. "Merlin, does the king have any duties this afternoon?"

"No, my lady," Merlin asks, puzzled at their exchange. He's been with Mordred most of the morning and hasn't seen much of the king or queen until now.

"Well... do something with him this afternoon before I lose my sanity. Please," she says.

"Hang on!" Arthur protests. "You're just as anxious."

"Yes, and your added anxiety isn't helping. What happened to last night's 'composed demeanor'?" she asks.

"It went out the window as soon as I saw your face this morning," he answers, reaching for her hand and kissing it.

"Excuse me," Merlin interrupts, completely befuddled.

"Yes, Merlin," Guinevere answers.

"I feel like I've missed something," he says. "Why do I need to 'do something' with Arthur this afternoon? Why is he making you crazy? Well, I guess I can understand that..." he pauses, smiling. "But, why are both of you so anxious?"

"Merlin," Arthur suddenly says, an idea striking him, "you have magic."

"Yes...?"

"Arthur, I don't know..." Guinevere says, following her husband's train of thought.

"Well, it's worth asking, I think," Arthur presses. "Can you... can you tell anything about Guinevere? Such as, is there anything different about her?" he asks Merlin.

"Can you be more specific, Sire?" Merlin responds, his patience starting to grow thin.

"Yesterday was the new moon," Guinevere quietly says. "There was nothing." She doesn't need to explain further. Merlin is the picture of discretion when it comes to the personal matters of the king and queen, but she knows he is aware of her courses. Having been a handmaiden herself, she is well aware of the level of intimacy to which a personal servant is privy.

"Oh... oh!" Merlin exclaims, his eyes widening. "Oh..."

"Merlin," Arthur says, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, shush, from the looks of things, you've been insufferable all morning, so you have no right to judge me for getting excited," he dismissively waves his hand at his king. He now knows what is being asked of him, and he hurries over towards Guinevere, kneeling beside her. "Um, I have to touch your stomach," he informs his queen.

Guinevere nods, and scoots her chair back to accommodate him. "I assume you've never done this," she says.

"No, I haven't. Never had the need," Merlin says. "So... I can't guarantee I'll be able to discern anything, but... I'm just going to see..." he pauses, thinking a moment. "Yes. I'll just see if I can detect any life within you. Apart from your own, obviously."

"This won't hurt her? Or the baby?" Arthur asks.

"Arthur, this was your idea."

"I would never do anything to hurt Gwen! I told you already!"

Both answers come simultaneously.

"All right, proceed," Arthur nods.

Guinevere smiles and Merlin sighs, leaning over her. His hand hovers over her stomach, almost afraid to touch.

"I trust you, Merlin," she says. Then, she gently takes his hand and places it on her abdomen.

Arthur leans forward, watching. A moment later, he stands and moves to the other side of the queen's chair, kneeling beside her.

Merlin closes his eyes and whispers a short incantation. He opens his eyes on the final word, and they flash gold for a moment.

Neither Guinevere nor Arthur speak, waiting for Merlin. Guinevere holds her breath. Arthur holds her hand.

"I think..." Merlin whispers, his fingers unconsciously flexing, "yes. It's... small. New. Like the bud of a new leaf on a tree..."

"Truly?" Guinevere asks, tears springing to her eyes.

Merlin looks up at her, his eyes equally moist. "I believe so. It's... beautiful, Gwen. I've never experienced anything like it." He looks over at Arthur to see him crying as well, wide-eyed, with a look of wonder on his face.

"I wish I could see... or feel... what it is you just experienced," he says.

"You'll have a lifetime of it, Arthur," Merlin says, lifting his hand from Gwen's abdomen and standing.

Arthur reaches for his wife, hugging her tightly to him, kissing her hair, her forehead, her tear-wet cheeks, and finally, her lips. He wishes he had the words to describe how he is feeling, but in his heart, he knows his Guinevere understands.

"Oh, Arthur..." she whispers. He can feel her slightly trembling in his arms, overcome by positive emotions for a change. "I did it. We did it..."

"Yes, Love," he manages, his voice hoarse. "Yes, we did." He wipes her tears and vaguely becomes aware of Merlin quietly clearing the lunch dishes. He kisses her one more time, then stands, clearing his throat. Merlin hands him a napkin without looking at him. Arthur snatches it in annoyed gratitude and wipes his own tears. Then, he throws it at Merlin's head.

"I'll summon the midwife. Discreetly," Merlin says, casually removing the napkin from his head and placing it on the tray.

"Is it still necessary?" Arthur asks.

"You're going to trust my word alone?" Merlin replies, a knowing smirk on his face. "Honestly, it's the best course of action. I sensed something there, but it's best to call in a professional."

"I agree," Guinevere says. "I would like to see the midwife."

"Of course," Arthur concurs. He stands and begins pacing. "So much to plan..." he starts mumbling. "We'll need to set up a suitable nursery for him... have to start thinking of names... oh, and a nursemaid will need to be found..."

"Arthur, we have plenty of time," Guinevere says, standing and going to him. "Relax, Love."

He keeps rambling. "Oh, dear, a nursemaid... we'll have to make certain she's..." he stops, his face falling. He looks down at his wife. "Morgana."

"I know," she whispers. "I just thought of that, too."

"She will not be pleased," Merlin says, frowning. "This child will be before her in succession to the throne."

xXx

The midwife arrives mid-afternoon, and she summarily dismisses both Merlin and Arthur, declaring, "This is no place for a man, king or not." Merlin leads a sulking Arthur to Gaius' quarters to keep him occupied.

"She can be trusted?" Arthur asks as they walk.

"Yes. She told me she delivered you," Merlin points out.

"I know, that's why I'm asking. I don't know if my father tried to blame her for my mother's death after I was born," he says. "You know how he was."

"All too well," Merlin says. "Uther knew it wasn't the midwife's fault. He knew it was his own. He turned his anger on magic, not Mildred."

"Just making sure. Guinevere's safety is my top priority, especially now," Arthur says.

"I understand, and I made sure she was clear on the need for discretion," Merlin nods. "You should have seen the way Mildred's face lit up when she saw it was me who had come to call on her," he says. "Her eyes were as wide as saucers. She was giddy with excitement."

Arthur chuckles. "Giddy? Surely she's a bit, you know, old to be giddy."

"She was giddy," Merlin insists, opening the door. "And, she's not that old."

"Congratulations, Sire," Gaius greets them. "Merlin told me the news."

"Thank you, Gaius," Arthur answers absently. His mind has been spinning since lunch, a mixture of elation and worry. He's not troubled over Merlin telling Gaius. He trusts Gaius, and since he is the court physician, he needs to be informed so that he can give Guinevere the proper care should anything arise. "Gaius," he starts. A question has been on his mind.

"Yes?" the physician responds, walking over.

"Why now, do you think? I mean... did the... whatever Merlin did at the cauldron... did that..." he waves his hand, struggling to find the right words, "did it fix something to allow Guinevere to conceive where she couldn't before?"

"Did the White Goddess heal her womb to make it receptive to your seed, you mean?" Gaius asks.

Arthur blinks at the old man's bluntness. "Um, yes."

"I do not think it works that way, Sire," Gaius says.

"Hmm," Arthur frowns.

"This troubles you," Gaius observes.

"It troubles me that you cannot say for certain," Arthur says. "It troubles me because if magic was involved in the conception of this child, then there's the very real possibility that... that Guinevere..." he falters a moment, then continues. "Magic was involved with my conception and my mother died because of it," he finishes, his face bleak.

"Arthur, the circumstances are completely different," Gaius points out. Merlin vehemently nods his agreement. "Your father bargained with a witch. You did not." The old man turns to Merlin. "Merlin, what did you ask of the Goddess?"

"I asked her to free Gwen from the enchantment under which Morgana held her captive," Merlin says. "I told her Gwen was good and pure and Morgana's enchantment was an abomination on one such as her. That Gwen was worthy of her aid." He looks at Arthur. "I didn't say anything at all about heirs or babies or... anything of that nature."

"Hmm," Gaius says. "Probably not then. The deities of the Old Religion are very specific. If you make a request, you must be very clear, and if your request is granted, you will receive no more than what you have asked."

"Then, why?" Arthur asks. "Why now?"

"Why does anything happen when it does?" Gaius asks in return. "Unfortunately, this particular issue is one that remains a mystery. Some people claim a woman cannot conceive because she is unworthy or is being punished for past wrongdoings." Arthur makes a derisive snort, and Gaius nods, continuing. "Exactly. I believe there are likely medical reasons that could prevent a woman from being able to bear children, but it is very difficult to diagnose such things."

"That makes more sense," Merlin agrees, tinkering with some vials on a shelf, turning them so all their labels are facing out.

"I also believe the man may be at fault in some cases," Giaus adds. "This is a rather unpopular opinion."

Arthur nods thoughtfully.

"You mean like how the farrier's wife wasn't able to bear him any children, but after he died and she married the cooper, she conceived almost immediately?" Merlin asks.

Arthur looks up sharply, surprised. "Town gossip?"

"Common knowledge," Merlin answers.

"And this is exactly what I mean, Merlin," Gaius nods. "Unless she and Robert never..." he trails, not willing to finish the thought. He shakes his head. "Regardless, it is something I've seen. More often than not, it is a case of a woman bearing a child who looks nothing like her husband but suspiciously like an acquaintance of his..."

"That would be town gossip," Merlin supplies.

"Well, whatever the reason, I am overjoyed the queen is with child," Gaius says, steering the conversation back to its original topic. He lifts a flask to which he's been adding ingredients, inspecting it, swirling it in front of his squinty eyes. "Whether you follow the Old Religion or the New, someone saw fit to grant this blessing to you both."

"Yes," Arthur agrees, smiling wistfully. "I'm worried, Gaius," he admits after a moment.

"I know, Arthur," Gaius answers. "She will be fine. Better than fine. Gwen is strong."

"Stronger than me, most of the time," Arthur says, nodding. "It's just... Morgana's still out there..."

"Yes. But, Merlin is in here," Gaius reminds him, smiling fondly at his ward.

A knock sounds at the door a moment later. Merlin jogs to answer it.

"Is the king here? Ah. Arthur, the queen is asking for you," Gwaine says, stepping inside.

Arthur leaps to his feet and jogs past the confused knight.

xXx

The midwife pronounced Guinevere Definitely With Child and Definitely Very Healthy. She also took the time to fuss over Arthur, recalling him as a tiny babe, and expressed her gratitude at being allowed to bring his child into the world.

She ordered more rest for Guinevere, saying the queen should sleep whenever she felt like she needed it, and the only restriction she set was no fermented beverages. "And no hard labor," she added with a wink.

"How do you feel?" Arthur asks his wife after the midwife has left.

"Fine, Arthur," Guinevere answers, smiling. She's sitting on the bed, propped against the headboard with her feet stretched out in front of her. "How are you?" she asks, inclining her head at him.

"Worried," Arthur declares. He sits on the bed, lifting her feet and setting them in his lap, where he absentmindedly rubs them.

Guinevere nods, understanding her husband's concern. "The longer we can keep this news from Morgana, the safer the baby will be," she says. "Which means no official announcements until I physically cannot hide it anymore."

Arthur looks over at her, struck by her beauty, her kindness, her wisdom. As he always is. She is my heart and my world. I truly do not know what I would do without her. "Guinevere," he says, "about Morgana..."

"Yes?"

"You need to be protected from her," he simply says. "Protected in a way neither Percival nor I can provide."

Guinevere frowns slightly, understanding his meaning. "Is this really necessary?"

"Guinevere," Arthur looks at her, his face a mask of worry, "how can you think it isn't necessary? Nothing is beneath Morgana. She will torture or kill you to kill our baby for no other reason than he is another obstacle to her taking the throne of Camelot. That's the only thing she cares about now. Power. She wants this kingdom, and she will not suffer anything or anybody to stand in her way."

"I understand the danger, but... Arthur, I was just freed from an enchantment that controlled my every move. Surely you can understand why I'm hesitant to bear another enchantment, even if it is to protect me, even if it is from someone I completely trust."

"I cannot hide you for nine months, Love," Arthur says. "Merlin is the only one who can protect you in this specific way. He is our best defense against Morgana. Guinevere," he reaches over and takes her hands in his, "I've almost lost you... at least four times now. Each time, it felt like my heart was being torn from my chest."

Guinevere looks at their joined hands as tears start to fall. "I... May I talk to Merlin about this? I'd like to... to know what is involved."

"Of course," Arthur answers, standing and going to the doors. There are two guards right outside, and Arthur sends one for Merlin. He sees Percival a distance away, standing at attention but somehow looking perfectly relaxed. Arthur nods at the knight and starts to head back into the royal chambers.

"Sire?" Percival's quiet voice stops him.

"Yes?" Arthur asks.

"Is the queen well?"

"Yes, Percival, she's fine," Arthur answers reassuringly.

Percival steps closer and lowers his voice. "May I speak freely?"

"Always," Arthur nods, interested.

"I saw the midwife come and go, Sire."

"You knew her then," Arthur says, slightly surprised the knight knows the identity of the midwife. He does spend a lot of time in town with Guinevere...

"Yes, Sire."

Arthur looks up at him and deliberately touches his index finger to his lips.

"Understood," Percival nods. Then, he smiles and returns to his post, watching the corridors.

"Percival, you can stand down. Guinevere will likely be here most of the day. She will send for you if your services are needed," Arthur says.

Percival nods. "I might look in on Mrs. Seward then, Sire."

"Very good," Arthur says, turning his head in the direction of footsteps that can only belong to Merlin.

"So?" Merlin asks, his face expectant.

"Inside," Arthur says, striding in before his servant.

"Is everything all right?" Merlin asks, concerned that the midwife found an irregularity he was unable to detect.

"Yes, everything's fine. You were right. Guinevere is with child. Mildred says she's very healthy and doesn't foresee any problems."

"Oh, good," Merlin says, following Arthur over to the bed where Guinevere is waiting.

"However, I think you and I can foresee some problems," Arthur says, sitting on the bed again. "Problems involving Morgana. Specifically, protecting Guinevere from Morgana," he pointedly adds.

"Yes," Merlin agrees, his smile falling. "Wait. You want to know if I can... if I can somehow protect her? Magically?"

"No," Arthur says. "I don't want to know if you can. I want you to do it." He glances at his wife. "If Guinevere consents, that is."

"Why would you not... oh, wait. I know why," Merlin says.

"It's not anything against you, Merlin," Guinevere says. "Perhaps if more time had passed since being freed from Morgana's enchantment..."

"I understand." Merlin nods.

"You will be guarded as much as possible using traditional means, of course," Arthur says. "If only for pretense. People will expect you to be protected, especially once the news is announced. We will need to tell my closest knights."

"Of course," Guinevere nods.

"Percival already knows," Arthur says. "He recognized the midwife. I've told him to keep it to himself."

"Gwaine knows something is afoot as well," Merlin says. "After you practically ran out of Gaius' rooms, he tried to ply me for information."

"Naturally," Guinevere says with a smile. "And, it seems your four favorites will be quite the secret-keepers," she adds with a sigh. "But, I guess it's part of the job."

Arthur nods. "Yes, it is. Believe me, Guinevere, keeping secrets is no hardship. Our knights would gladly do this and much more. They have. Do you remember what I told you about rescuing you from the tower?"

Guinevere nods and whispers, "You said you did not want Elyan," she falters, remembering her courageous brother, blinks, then continues, "Percival, Leon, Gwaine, and Merlin to feel obligated and endanger themselves. You told them you would go alone."

"Do you remember what I told you about how they responded?"

Guinevere slowly nods, her eyes meeting Arthur's. "They were coming with because I am their queen and friend."

"And, sister," Merlin adds, his eyes flickering with intensity. "None of us were coming home without you."

"Exactly right," Arthur asserts with a nod.

Guinevere takes a deep breath, bites her lip, and bows her head, heartsick at the thought of anyone putting himself in harm's way on her behalf. "They shouldn't have risked their lives."

Arthur gently places his hands on his wife's arms. "I couldn't stop them, Guinevere! Our knights, our friends, regard looking after you as neither a duty nor an obligation." He tenderly lifts her chin with his finger and notices the struggle in her deep brown eyes. "Love, do you not see? Our knights consider guarding you a privilege. An honor. You are worth this and so much more." Merlin nods in agreement.

Arthur continues, "The worst thing you could do is not allow these fine, noble men to do what they are compelled in their hearts to accomplish – ensuring the safety of someone very dear to them." He says the last several words very softly, yet insistently, willing them to erase his wife's doubts.

"Oh, Arthur," Guinevere responds and leans on her husband's shoulder, allowing his words to wash over her. She sighs, lifts her head, and looks at him, "I will try not to do that."

Arthur smiles, "Good. Thank you." He takes her hands and kisses them. "Now, to the matter at hand. Guinevere, you need protection. But, you require more than just a giant bodyguard, a skilled swordsman, a madman with no regard for his own personal safety, and an eager young knight willing to do anything to prove his worth. Even more than having the Ultimate Killing Machine as a husband."

"Your ability to kill things is probably very low on Gwen's list of reasons why she married you," Merlin points out.

Arthur ignores him and continues. "We have Merlin's abilities on our side. He's willing to do this for you," he pauses, glancing at Merlin, who nods. "And, you know he would never do anything to hurt you or our baby."

"Gwen," Merlin says, pulling a chair over to sit at the side of the bed, "You know I hate to say this, but Arthur's right. You're well aware that in the majority of the disagreements I hear between the two of you, I will always side with you on principle if nothing else." He pauses, smiling impishly at her for a second, ignoring Arthur's glare. "But, in this rare case, I agree with Arthur. You need to be kept safe. That little, innocent life within you needs to be kept safe. Once again, I am the only one who can ensure it in this particular way. Morgana will find out you are with child. This much is known. What we don't know is when. Please, let me protect you from Morgana. I promise you won't even notice the spell is there."

"If you truly, truly do not want Merlin to place his protection over you, I won't force you. I will not have him do it without your consent. But... please, Love. If not for you or for me, for our baby." Arthur gently squeezes her hands.

"Very well," Guinevere whispers her answer, touched by their concern for her. She takes a deep breath and wipes her eyes. "The only thing I wish is for this child to be safe and healthy. I must do everything I can to make sure of that."

"Good thing you have me around then," Merlin says, smiling at her.

"Thank you, Merlin," she says, leaning over to kiss his cheek. He blushes slightly. Then, she sits forward and kisses Arthur, wrapping her arms around him. "Thank you, Arthur," she whispers. She leans back against the headboard again. "All right."

"Can you do this now?" Arthur asks Merlin. He nods, and indicates Arthur should move.

Arthur gets off the bed and stands close by, leaning against the large post at the corner of the bed. "I am fully aware of my hypocrisy, just so you know," he says.

Merlin merely snorts. "You're the one who makes the laws now," he says, standing as well. "Lie flat, please," he tells Guinevere. She complies, and he extends both hands, palms down, over her. He closes his eyes.

Arthur watches, now accustomed to the routine: speaking in a strange tongue, eyes flashing gold, something happening.

This time, the something is a faint golden light extending from Merlin's hands until it surrounds Guinevere's body like a shimmering halo. Merlin says a final word and it disappears, fading inward, into her skin, which continues to glow for a moment longer, then fades completely.

Guinevere has been watching with wide eyes the entire time, and when Merlin finishes, she looks at Arthur.

"How do you feel?" he asks.

"Good," she answers. "It was... warm. Comforting. Like a soft blanket wrapped around me."

"How do we know it worked?" Arthur asks Merlin. "I mean, can you see it? If you touch her hand, can you, you know, feel it?"

"I can see it because I'm the one who placed it on her and I want to be able to see it to make sure it remains," Merlin says. "No one else will notice anything. Not even a magic user. Not Mordred, and he is my pupil. Not even Morgana, a High Priestess."

"Good," Arthur declares. He looks at Guinevere. "Do you still want Merlin to do something with me this afternoon?" he asks, smiling.

"Only if you wish," she answers, reaching for his hand.

"Well, in that—"

"Actually, you have parchments piling up over there," Merlin interrupts and points at the desk. Arthur groans. "Oh, yes, it's so difficult being king, I know," he says, lightly pushing Arthur towards the desk. "Try being a servant once, then you can complain." Guinevere laughs as her husband scowls. "See, Gwen understands," Merlin continues. "Of course, she has been a servant, so she would..."

"Merlin..." Arthur warns.

"Right. Shall I go talk to the knights?" he offers.

"Is that all right with you, Love?" Arthur asks.

"It's fine with me," Guinevere says.

"I'll tell them in Gaius' rooms, away from everyone else," Merlin says, heading for the door.

"Thank you, Merlin," Arthur calls, his head bent over his desk.

"Yes, thank you. For everything," Guinevere echoes, reaching for her needlepoint. I should start making things for the baby, she immediately thinks, then realizes she's the queen and doesn't need to make anything. But, she realizes she wants to, and straight away ideas for little outfits, blankets, and tiny socks start dancing across her brain.

xXx

"Why did you tell me there was no place for magic in Camelot?" Arthur suddenly asks. He is sitting on the steps to the courtyard with Merlin. Guinevere was tired after dinner, and wished to take a bath and retire early. It is a beautiful, warm night, and Arthur's mind is still overactive, so he left her to her solitude, knowing his restlessness would not allow her to fully relax if he remained in their chambers.

Merlin looks at Arthur, surprised he would remember that particular conversation. He ponders his answer carefully. Should I tell him about the prophecy? He's been through so much lately. I hate to burden him further.

"When I went to the Disir to petition for Mordred's life," Arthur continues, misinterpreting Merlin's silence. "I asked you what I should do, and you plainly stated there could be no place for magic in Camelot."

"I remember," Merlin quietly says. "I was pondering my answer."

"So, you do remember saying it," Arthur says.

"Of course," Merlin answers. "And the answer is not simple. I also know things now I did not know then, and I'm trying to be mindful of that before giving you my answer."

"Very well," Arthur nods, staring out at the courtyard, watching the pages light the torches as the sun sets.

A pair of serving girls emerge from the castle and scurry down the steps. They nod as they pass Arthur and Merlin, heading home for the night.

Merlin watches them leave and sees all the people milling around. He whispers a few words and envelops Arthur and himself in an invisible bubble.

"What did you just do?" Arthur asks.

"Gave us some privacy. No one will be able to take note of what we are saying. They'll hear us talking, but none of the words will penetrate," Merlin says.

Arthur stares at him. "I don't know whether to be impressed or worried."

"Both," Merlin advises.

Arthur continues to contemplate the mystery that is his servant, then slowly nods. "So," Arthur begins as he gathers his thoughts, "what are these things you know?"

"There is a prophecy," Merlin says, staring out over the courtyard. "A prophecy about your death."

"I don't want to know," Arthur says, dread stealing over him. Somehow, he understands he's going to hear about it anyway.

"I didn't either," Merlin answers. "It involves Mordred."

"Oh, come now, don't tell me Mordred's going to kill me," Arthur says, looking at Merlin.

Merlin's silence is answer enough.

"Mordred is going to kill me?" His voice is weak, tinged with heartbreak.

"Maybe," Merlin says. "When you asked me the question about magic, it seemed pretty definite. Everything, everything I saw, heard or read seemed to reinforce this."

"Mordred?"

"Arthur, I know it seems impossible," Merlin says. "He's so eager. Has such potential. But... he's fragile. He has difficulty with his feelings."

"I understand that, Merlin. You know I do. It could be the reason why I'm so fond of the boy. We have that in common."

"Yes, but when you have difficulty with your feelings, you don't accidentally set items on fire," Merlin says. "Or blast things fifty feet."

Arthur is shocked. "'Blast things'? 'Set items on fire'? You've seen him do this?

Merlin nods. "Occasionally, he gets frustrated during his lessons. Occasionally, I allow him to vent that frustration. Out in the forest, obviously."

Arthur looks down at his feet. "You said 'maybe' a minute ago."

"The prophecy is not as certain as it once was," Merlin explains. "Mordred has been making good choices. I have been making good choices."

"You?"

"I spoke with Kilgarrah after Mordred and I had our audience with you," he says. "He told me the path is changing. That the prophecy won't come to pass if Mordred stays on the path of light."

"You have to keep him on this path?" Arthur guesses.

"I have to do everything in my power to do so," Merlin says. "Ultimately, the choice is Mordred's. Kilgarrah said Mordred will have one more test he must pass in order to permanently change it. Get rid of it."

"What is the nature of this test?"

"I don't know. And, the scary part is I don't think I'll be involved. It'll be something he must do without my aid."

"Oh," Arthur forlornly says.

"I will do all I can to prepare him for this test, whatever it is, whenever it comes. I promise you that."

"Thank you," Arthur says. "It does explain something though," he adds.

"What, exactly?"

"There were times I would notice a... tension... between the two of you. You did not trust him."

"No, I didn't."

"Because of this prophecy."

"And, one or two other things. Mordred and I have crossed paths a few times, actually."

"Have you?"

"Another time, Arthur," Merlin says with a sigh. "Anyway, this is why I said what I said. It sounds terrible, but I had to let Mordred die in order to save you."

"Mordred didn't die," Arthur points out. "As you well know."

"No, he didn't. The Disir allowed him to live because they knew of the prophecy."

"Wait. So... because I told them I wouldn't embrace the Old Religion, they let Mordred live anyway because they knew he was prophesied to kill me?" Arthur exclaims, aghast. "That's..."

"Horrible. Which is why I need to make sure he is fully prepared for this unknown test. He must know he is loved and accepted here. That this is a safe place for him. That... that magic will be allowed in Camelot one day soon."

"When Morgana is gone," Arthur supplies.

"Morgana," Merlin agrees. "She is the reason why, then and now, magic cannot be allowed back in Camelot. As long as she lives, there is too much risk. It would be extremely easy for her to gather allies, to lure people down her dark path. If you issued a decree tomorrow legalizing the use of magic, Morgana would take full advantage of it. She could build an army. She could infiltrate the castle with spies, spies who may not truly be aware of their actions. This is the other explanation as to why I answered as I did."

Arthur nods. "I see." He watches the clouds for a few quiet minutes, noting the pinks and oranges caused by the setting sun, how the eastern sky is already dark. Eventually, he looks at Merlin curiously. "How often have you done this?"

"Done what?" Merlin asks.

"Sacrificed your own needs for the greater good. In this case, you disregarded your own desires, chose to stay hidden on your already difficult path because you knew the risks were too great. Are yet too great."

"Almost every day since I arrived here," Merlin answers immediately. "I told you, Arthur. My purpose is to see to it that you fulfill your destiny. As far as most people know, my job is to be your servant, but my true duty is to protect you, whatever the cost to me." He snorts a small laugh. "And, if that means polishing armor and picking up your socks, so be it."

Arthur chuckles a little with him. "I've gotten better about the socks. Guinevere has gently shown me the error of my ways in that respect," he admits.

"I have noticed," Merlin chuckles, then turns serious again. "If you think about it, my counseling you to keep magic illegal isn't entirely selfless. If Morgana found out about me, the first thing she would do is try to kill me because she'll know I am protecting you."

Arthur nods again, wondering how many times, without his knowledge, Merlin has put his life on the line for him. It's probably quite a few times over the last ten years or so. "With freedom to use her power, surely she would be more dangerous."

"Yes," Merlin agrees. "For what it's worth, I don't think what the Disir wanted was fair."

"No?" Arthur asks.

"No. They were asking you to completely embrace something about which you know very little. Something you had been taught was evil. You now know that's not entirely true, but... demanding a man completely change his beliefs to save the life of one person?" Merlin exhales. "That's asking quite a bit. It was an unrealistic request, and one for which I don't believe a correct answer existed."

"I hadn't thought about it like that," Arthur says. "Why do you think they did it?"

"I cannot pretend to know the mind of a deity of the Old Religion," Merlin says. "But, they want you to fail. I'm fairly certain of this."

Arthur is resolute. "We will prove them wrong. That's the thing about prophecies, Merlin. They do not account for free will."

Merlin is surprised at Arthur's remarkably astute statement. "Yes," he says. "We've already begun changing it. Its certainty has already weakened."

"It comes down to Mordred and that test," Arthur says. He's putting on a brave face, but Merlin can tell he's really quite troubled.

"Yes. I wish I could give you more reassurance about it," Merlin says.

"I know. Just... look after him."

"I will. He's quite young yet, which is good and bad. He can be guided, molded, but doesn't always understand things."

"He is a decent lad, but, yes, sometimes he is... unsettlingly still. Like a statue, taking everything in. Then, just as quickly, he snaps out of it and is back to being a focused knight."

"He's very smart," Merlin says. "Remarkable memory. The challenge right now is getting him to use his magic without his feelings manipulating it. We're making progress."

"Good," Arthur nods. "He has a lot of potential."

"Yes."

"Thank you for telling me. I know it couldn't have been easy for you," he adds.

"It wasn't. I did not want to, but neither did I want to keep it from you," Merlin says. "I'm sorry to add more heartbreak. Especially now."

Arthur sighs. "It's like setting a broken bone or dislocated joint, I guess. Best to do quickly, all at once."

They sit quietly for a few minutes, each lost in his own thoughts.

"Merlin," Arthur breaks the silence, "do you remember when you referred to yourself as my brother and I denied it?"

"Yes..." Merlin hesitantly answers.

"I was wrong," Arthur says. He companionably claps Merlin on the shoulder, stands, and disappears into the castle.

Chapter Text

The first months of Queen Guinevere's pregnancy were quiet and relatively free of problems. The only exception was she felt ill nearly all the time. She knew of morning sickness from the other maids' stories. The midwife had also made mention of it.

However, no one informed her that the "morning" part was not necessarily true for everyone. When she expressed concern about this to Mildred, the midwife had simply patted her hand and said, "Yes, it sometimes happens that way."

And so, quite often, Queen Guinevere of Camelot could be seen munching little bits of bread or delicately sipping water, trying to stave off the feelings of nausea. She soldiered on, hiding her discomfort as best she could as she tried to keep up with as many of her duties as possible. Arthur, Merlin, Gaius, Mildred, Ella, and the four knights were the only people who knew of Guinevere's condition.

"It's awful," she had complained to Arthur. "I feel ill and don't want to eat, but if I don't eat, I'll feel worse." She sighed and added, "At least I haven't needed the bucket since last week."

He simply held his wife, letting her vent her frustrations. "I wish I could help," he finally said, feeling useless.

"You do help," she insisted. "You help by listening when I complain. By being here for me. Being here with me."

Morgana continued to bide her time, and the months since Guinevere's enchantment was lifted have been quiet and pleasant. The days are now growing shorter and chillier as autumn continues to settle in, and Guinevere has found that she doesn't mind the cooler air this year. Her baby is keeping her warm.

But, even though Morgana seems to have retreated, her presence always looms. She is always on their minds.

"Arthur," Guinevere broached one night over a quiet dinner alone in their chambers, "I know I've got bodyguards and Merlin's protective charm and everything, but…"

"You still do not feel safe?" Arthur asked.

"No, no, it's not that," she said. "I think I should carry some small weapon with me. Just in case."

Arthur smiled sadly. "I had been planning to train you in the art of combat," he said. "I realize you know some basic fighting skills, but I wanted you to learn more."

"Then, the baby happened," Guinevere said.

"Then, the baby happened," Arthur echoed. "So, it will have to wait." He took her hand and kissed it. "Obviously, I agree. We'll find you a nice discreet dagger you can wear, and I'll show you the most effective way to use it."

"Will you still train me after?" she asked, clearly pleased by the idea. "The exercise might help me regain my figure after being all…" She puffed her cheeks out and extended her arms, bent in a circle around her middle.

Arthur chuckled. "I don't think you'll be quite that robust, my love."

Guinevere shrugged. "Some of my gowns are already not fitting well and it has only been three months," she pointed out.

"I'm rather enjoying the way they're not fitting well in some places," Arthur added suggestively, letting his eyes land on her breasts, which have been fighting with her bodices lately.

"Arthur..." she said, trying not to giggle.

"We'll bring the seamstress in tomorrow," he said, gently tugging her hand, still clasped in his.

Guinevere stood and moved to his lap. He wrapped his arms around her and she laid her head on his shoulder. "I think we may have to make the announcement sooner than we anticipated."

He turned and kissed her forehead. "When we must, we must. My son is in charge, apparently."

"Could be a daughter," Guinevere added, smiling against his neck.

"Indeed it could," Arthur agreed. "Guinevere," he looked down at her, and waited until she turned her face up to his before he continued. "I want you to know I don't care if the baby is a boy or a girl. If it's a girl, I won't be disappointed in the slightest." He leaned his head to kiss her nose. "Especially if she's as beautiful and wise as her mother."

xXx

"She was quite an adept learner, I must say," Arthur says, raising his glass to Guinevere in salute as he brags about her skill with the dagger he presented to her earlier in the day. They are having a private dinner with "The Four," as Gwaine dubbed himself, Percival, Leon, and Mordred. "I suppose it's better than what he could have come up with," Arthur had said with a shrug.

"Of course she was," Leon observes. "She knows how to use a knife. When I was still a squire, I saw her butcher and clean a chicken while she was helping her mother. To this day, I have never seen such expert knife-work."

"Leon is exaggerating, of course," Guinevere says, smiling as she waves him off. "Cooking is nothing like fighting."

"In any case, your forthcoming child will certainly be the most well-protected babe in the five kingdoms," Leon says with a chuckle.

"He's not wrong, though. A knife is still a knife, no matter what you're slicing with it. Or who," Gwaine volunteers with a grin. "And, you'd be surprised at the damage you can do with a spoon, if you've a mind." He picks up a spoon and moves towards Mordred, who ducks, then quickly snatches the spoon from Gwaine's hand and sets it out of the older knight's reach.

They all laugh except Merlin, who has been on the receiving end of an expertly-wielded spoon courtesy of Arthur. Arthur notices Merlin's lack of good humor and gives him an apologetic shrug.

Merlin allows his lips to curve into a smile, then turns his head sharply, thinking he sees movement in the shadows. They're behind locked doors, attended only by himself and Ella, so there should be no one else in the room.

Before he can say anything, a dagger flies straight for Arthur's head. Merlin's magical senses spring to life automatically, and he trains his eyes on the dagger, tracking its path as he grabs Arthur's shoulder and pulls him sharply to the right.

"Merlin!" Arthur exclaims, bewildered and annoyed, just as the dagger sinks itself into the high wooden back of his chair.

Just where his head had been seconds before.

The king looks from the dagger to Merlin, his eyes wide.

The four knights are up in an instant. Gwaine stands guard, sword drawn, at the momentarily-stunned Arthur's right. Percival leaps to his feet from his place at Guinevere's left hand to protect her. Leon and Mordred make for the area from where the dagger would have come. Merlin peers into the shadows and sees the tail of a green cloak disappear. "Leon! To your left!" he shouts, then follows after them.

Arthur is staring at the dagger, still stuck in the wood beside his head. Gradually, his focus changes to his wife's frightened face. He shoves his chair out of the way and goes to her. "I'm all right," he whispers, gently pulling her into his arms. "I'm all right, and so are you," he repeats, wrapping his arms around her. The sounds of running footsteps and shouting reach them through the now-opened doors.

"Arthur," Guinevere whispers, holding his waist.

"I promised you I wouldn't go anywhere," he murmurs into her hair, holding her trembling form tightly while Gwaine and Percival begin searching the room, looking for any clues or signs of how the assassin gained access.

"It was so close," she says, looking up at him, her eyes wide. The alarm bells sound, and the noise outside increases.

He kisses her forehead. "Merlin saved me. Again."

"Yes, he did, and we will have to make sure to thank him," Guinevere says, squeezing Arthur around the waist. "When we see him again," she says, noting his absence.

"I wonder why he didn't just stop the dagger in mid-air?" Gwaine interjects, striding casually over.

"He couldn't risk giving himself away," Guinevere says, pulling gently away from Arthur, but staying close to his side. He wraps his arm around her.

"The assassin was almost certainly sent by Morgana," Arthur agrees. "So, his safest course of action was to move me, not the dagger."

Gwaine nods thoughtfully.

"There's blood on the handle of the dagger," Percival quietly remarks.

"What?" Arthur looks at the weapon. "So there is. Well spotted," he says. He takes a napkin and pulls the dagger from the wood, wrapping it around the knife. "I don't know if Merlin will be able to tell anything from the dagger or the blood, but..." he explains. "I can't believe I'm thinking of asking Merlin for assistance with tracking down an assassin."

Guinevere smiles at him. "May as well use the resources at your disposal," she says. "And, you are right. He may be able to use the blood to help find the assassin."

Arthur looks down at her, his face full of wonder. "That was my thinking." He pauses a moment. "Are you all right?" he asks, his eyes flicking from her face to her abdomen and back.

"I'm fine, Arthur. I was just as surprised and scared as the rest of you, but I'm better now. You're alive and uninjured. The assassin will be found," she declares. "However, I would like to retire, if you have no objections."

"Of course." He offers his arm. "Gwaine, once Guinevere and I are in our rooms, join the search. Please tell Sir Leon—"

"To have every man on high alert, leave no stone unturned, and try to catch the assassin alive, yes," Gwaine finishes as they walk to the royal chambers along little-used corridors, staying out of sight. "And, I'll take this dagger," he raises his hand, holding the napkin-wrapped weapon, "to Gaius' rooms for Merlin to inspect."

Arthur scowls as the brash knight recites, almost word-for-word, the orders he was about to give.

"Love, you have trained your men well. I understand that you really want to be out there leading the search, but it is your life at stake here," Guinevere gently says.

"I'll check inside," Percival says, stepping in front of the king and queen and ducking inside their quarters.

Arthur nods and positions Guinevere close to the wall, blocked by himself and Gwaine. "I know the assassin is after me, but you are my first priority," he tells her, tenderly touching her cheek. "Ella, please do not hover out in the open," he calls to the maid, beckoning her forth.

She gratefully rushes over, ducking her head in an automatic curtsey as she passes Arthur to stand beside her mistress. "Thank you, Sire," she whispers.

"What's taking Percival so long?" Gwaine wonders, watching as a pair of knights walk past.

"He's being thorough," Arthur says. "I know you're eager to get into the fray, but you'll have to wait."

"I am perfectly content to stand here and guard my queen," Gwaine retorts. "You, on the other hand, can fend for yourself," he grins, earning him a light shove on the shoulder from Arthur. "What? You're supposed to be better than all of us, right?" he continues teasing. "Wait, you did lose to me that time though..."

"Gwaine," Arthur says, "do not make me remind you of the time in Mercia when—"

"All right, yes, never mind," Gwaine interrupts. "It was just a misunderstanding," he says to the two women, feigning innocence. "I'm certain that tavern was already on fire when I got there. Well. Almost certain," he adds with an impish smile.

"Can you never take anything seriously?" Guinevere asks.

"The one time I did, you turned me down, Princess," he returns with a wink.

"Clear," Percival announces, emerging from the room. Arthur, Guinevere, and Ella head inside. "I'll be right out here," he tells them.

"I expect to be kept informed," Arthur instructs the two knights as he passes.

"Thank you, Percival," Guinevere says, pausing at the door. "Thank you, Gwaine."

Gwaine raises his already-drawn sword in salute and jogs away with a wicked grin on his face.

"Insane," Percival mutters, closing the doors. He listens for the sound of the bolt being slid into place, then assumes his post, blocking the doors.

Inside, Ella helps Guinevere change and prepare for bed, even though very little sleeping will be done.

"Please do try to rest, Love," Arthur says. "I don't think I'll be sleeping, but you need to. For yourself and the baby."

"I'd love a hot bath," Guinevere sighs, "but I know that's not going to happen tonight." She emerges from behind the privacy screen in her nightdress and begins walking to her vanity table. "Perhaps tomorrow then—oh!"

She trips and falls, landing on her right arm on the hard stone, her head nearly hitting the wooden frame of the bed.

"Guinevere!" Arthur rushes to her side, helping her up. He looks around. "Did you trip on something?"

"I think my foot became tangled in the hem of my gown," she says, getting to her feet, cradling her arm. She looks at her elbow, expecting a scrape or a bump. There isn't a mark at all. She tests her arm, straightening and bending it, flexing it this way and that. "Hmm," she puzzles. She turns her wrist in a circle.

"Are you all right?" Arthur asks, checking her over.

There is a soft knock at the door followed by Percival's muffled voice asking if all is well. Ella scurries over to answer.

Guinevere looks at Arthur, surprised. "I'm... I'm fine. It doesn't even hurt," she says. "Merlin's spell works."

"Tell Percival everything is fine," Arthur calls to Ella as he hugs Guinevere. "And you may go home, Ella. Be careful, please," he adds.

The maid nods and disappears.

"You're really uninjured?" Arthur asks, confirming. He walks to the doors and secures them, sliding the bolt into place.

"Yes," Guinevere answers. "It hurt when I fell, just like I would have expected, then... it was fine. As if nothing happened."

"Thank God," he sighs.

xXx

While Queen Guinevere sleeps fitfully in the security of the royal chambers, King Arthur, feeling useless and powerless, alternates between pacing in frustration and bothering Percival for updates. The Knights of Camelot search the castle and surrounding area for the assassin. Their hunt continues throughout the night, no one resting until Leon gives the order. The only clues on which they have to go are the culprit was wearing a green cloak and he will likely have a cut on his hand. It seems almost impossible that he could have disappeared, but if Morgana has sent this person, magic may be involved, so everyone is on high alert.

Well past midnight, Mordred rounds the corner of a dark, forgotten corridor, one he and Merlin use when they venture out to work in the forest. He's fairly certain most people don't know about it, and he'd prefer to keep it that way, so he undertakes it alone. As he creeps through the dimly-lit passageway, he sees motion ahead: the swish of a cloak. In the poor light, he cannot tell if it is green, but he immediately follows, his heart pounding, suddenly wishing he wasn't alone.

He hears quiet noises coming from a secluded corner nearby and silently heads in that direction.

The sight before him makes him very glad he's alone.

Kara.

She finishes whispering to a black bird in her hands, then releases it, sending it out a high window.

"Kara," Mordred breathes her name, and she jumps in surprise.

Chapter Text

"Mordred!" Kara gasps, rushing into his arms, her green cloak flowing behind her.

Mordred is happy to see his long-lost love, but very confused. "What are you doing here?" he asks, his hands on her shoulders.

"Oh, Mordred, I never thought I'd see you again," Kara says, not answering his question. "I have missed you so." She raises her hand to his face, stroking his cheek.

He sees a cut on her palm, below her thumb, and takes her hand in his, looking down at the injury. It looks fresh. The blood. The green cloak. The raven. "Kara, what are you doing here?" he asks again, more urgently.

She avoids his gaze. "I..."

"It was you," he says, his heart breaking. "You're the assassin."

She tries to pull away from his grasp, but he holds fast, having grown much stronger since she last saw him. "I am only doing what is right!" she says, her voice quiet, but cross. "Don't tell me you believe their lies!"

"You're doing what is right?" he asks, incredulously. "Right for whom? For Morgana? What message did you just send her? I saw you release a raven."

"Mordred... you're hurting my arm," she tries, pulling against his grasp.

"We both know that I am not," he counters. "You know I could never hurt you, Kara. I need you to tell me why you are doing this."

"The king is no friend to magic users," she says, her voice growing desperate. Her beloved Mordred seems to be on their side, and it frightens her. "He is the king his father made him, and will slaughter us all just because we have magic!"

"Kara, listen to me. Morgana knows only lies and deceit," Mordred counters. "She's using you. She has corrupted your mind and is taking advantage of you. Arthur is a good king. His understanding of those with magic is changing. It has changed. Morgana knows nothing of what is in the king's heart, as she has forgotten how to listen to her own."

"No... no, it's not true," Kara argues. She stops struggling. "King Arthur must be destroyed and Morgana brought to the throne. Only then can magic be allowed to return to this land!" Her words sound hollow, and she recites them as though they have been drilled into her.

Mordred sighs heavily. "Kara. Please. Listen to me. Morgana is wrong. I know it. I... I cannot tell you how I know this, but please..." He pauses, pinching his eyes closed against the unbidden swell of magic rising within him. Breathe. Control. "Please, don't do this. Don't go back to her." He opens his eyes and looks at her, his eyes pleading.

Kara is quiet for a moment, her eyes distant. Then, as though a lever has been pulled inside her, she snaps to attentiveness again, pulling against his grasp. "No! You lie! Morgana is the true, rightful sovereign and queen of Camelot, not that fool, Arthur, and his serving girl! Lady Morgana will restore magic to this land and we will be free again!"

"Kara…" Mordred pleads. "You must believe me. If Morgana rules, no one will be free! We will all be under her thumb… just like you are now."

She glares at him, looking at him long enough to note his attire. "What happened to you, Mordred?" she asks. "You... you're a Knight of Camelot... why? What lies have they been feeding you?"

"The only person who has been lied to is you, Kara," Mordred says. "Morgana doesn't know what really goes on within these walls. She's made you accept what she believes because neither of you knows the truth! Her quest for power has driven her quite mad."

"I don't believe you. You've turned your back on our kind. On us," Kara answers, but her voice falters.

Her stinging accusation gives him pause, and he stills, looking away from her. Have I really turned my back on our kind by joining with Arthur, by becoming a knight? Merlin would have me believe I haven't, but… but what do I believe? Do I believe what Merlin has been teaching me? He tells me magic is a gift to be used to help others, not to be abused or used to harm. It is a gift and it is my responsibility to use it wisely.

The things Merlin believes are the things the Druids believe.

Morgana believes none of these things.

Have I turned my back on our kind by becoming a knight of Camelot? Or is my presence here helping our kind?

Things are already changing. I have seen it with my own eyes. I have experienced it.

Morgana is wrong.

Kara... Kara is wrong.

Kara. My Kara, my heart, to whom I am forever bonded. How can I go against her? Hesitantly, Mordred reaches out and places his fingertips over her heart, gently, and the pain Kara is feeling surges into him. It's almost a physical sensation, and he jerks his hand away with a gasp. He gazes into her eyes, shocked. A tear slips from her eye, and he slowly returns his hand, closing his eyes, preparing to experience her pain. Hurt. Betrayal. Fear. They wash over him, and he almost breaks. He almost takes her hand and absconds with her into the night, turning his back on his new friends, his new life, on those to whom he has pledged his loyalty. Then, beneath those emotions, he feels something unexpected. Anger. Hatred. Bitterness. He feels another swell of magic and a torch on the wall flares large and bright for a moment before he can tamp it down.

When Mordred opens his eyes, he sees Kara with new ones. He looks at his intended with the eyes of a man, not a lovestruck boy.

Is this my Kara? I have never felt such... darkness... in her before. And, her words... she sounds like she's Morgana's Kara right now. Her mind has been poisoned by the witch. It is Kara who has turned her back on our kind, not me.

He is able to see the hurt in her eyes. The fear. Fear he knows Morgana put there. He looks down at himself, arrayed in armor and his red cloak, at the Pendragon crest on his shoulder.

The king knows about my magic. He knows, and I'm still alive. He has allowed Merlin to use his magic for the good of the kingdom more than once since he had learned of it. He is changing. He is accepting magic and those who use it.

Merlin tells me magic will be allowed in Camelot once again, after Morgana is no longer a threat.

I believe him.

Mordred blinks, gathers his resolve, and looks at Kara. "You believe the word of a crazed, power-hungry witch over... over mine? I'm still your Mordred, Kara, and I always will be. Listen to me when I tell you that Morgana is wrong. If anyone has turned their back on our kind, it's her. Morgana's heart has turned black with hatred. The king and queen are good people. They are… they're learning. Listening."

"Oh? What do you think will happen when your precious King Arthur finds out that you have magic? He'll throw you—"

"He already knows," Mordred interrupts quietly.

Kara gapes at him. "What do you mean?"

"The king knows about my magic. I told him."

She doesn't know what to say. "Why did you tell him?" she finally asks.

"That, I cannot divulge right now," he answers. "But, he knows. And, here I stand, alive. Unscathed. Unpunished."

"I... I don't understand..." she whispers, her voice wavering. She blinks a few times, her mind clearly conflicted.

"Morgana is wrong. Arthur is not Uther." Mordred moves his hands, holding her less like a prisoner and more like a lover. "Kara, you need to tell me everything. I'll take you to the king..."

"No!" she recoils, frightened.

"Kara... Sweeting... you know me. You know me better than anyone does. I'll speak on your behalf to the king. He is kind and good, I promise. I would not lie to you." He gently places his hands on either side of her face. "You know I would not lie to you," he whispers, leaning his forehead against hers.

Kara gasps a moment later, the bond she shares with Mordred allowing her to see that he speaks the truth. Understanding overwhelms her, tears start to fall from her eyes and she slumps against him.

"It'll be all right," he soothes, holding her. "Talk to me first. Tell me what Morgana has told you. Listen to me; listen to what I have to tell you about what is truly going on within these walls. If you decide to stay with us, with me, we will protect you. I will take care of you, and we can be together." He softly kisses her forehead. She looks down, shaking her head very slightly. Mordred sees her hesitation and almost falters again. I don't want to lose her. But... there are too many consequences. I must... "Kara, please consider my offer. Stay here with us, in Camelot. You will be happy here. But, that can only happen if you talk to me. We need to talk to the king and queen." She looks up at him, her eyes wet with tears, still silent. He gently wipes her cheeks with his thumbs. What if she refuses? Can I… can I choose Camelot – the king, the queen, Merlin – over her? Would I be able to bring her to Arthur as an unrepentant criminal?

For a few seconds, Mordred listens to the beating of his heart, the beating of Kara's, then he makes his decision. Swallowing hard, his face growing stern as he looks into her eyes, he says the most difficult words he has ever spoken. "Kara, you must understand. If you decide your loyalty is still to Morgana, I will be forced to arrest you, you will be… imprisoned, and I cannot promise to save you. No matter how much I love you." He stops again and takes a deep breath, attempting to tamp down his conflicted emotions before something – a tapestry, flag, or drape – ignites. "It pains me to tell you this, but there is too much at stake," he adds, his voice breaking. "Please."

Kara says nothing for a long moment, thinking. She looks down again at her hands, running her fingertips along the cut on her thumb. Eventually, she nods and looks up. "I will stay here. I will talk to you." She sighs, her shoulders shuddering. "I... I want to be g—" she breaks off, crying fully.

Mordred sighs, relieved. He wraps his arms around her, blinking back his own tears as he gathers his thoughts, attempting to call upon his knights' training. "Kara, what message did you send Morgana just now?" he asks, pulling away slightly to look down at her.

Kara bites her lip and looks down. "I told her of Queen Guinevere's pregnancy," she softly admits, a tear rolling down her cheek. "I... I heard the curly-haired knight say something about it..."

Oh, no. Mordred's face darkens with worry as he looks at her. He removes her green cloak, wads it into a ball, and tucks it under his arm. "Come," he says, taking her hand and pulling her with him.

MERLIN! He calls out with everything he has, walking at top speed towards Gaius' rooms.

"Mordred!" Kara gasps, practically running to keep up with Mordred's long, quick strides. "Where are we going?"

"The only place where you'll be safe right now," Mordred says.

Mordred? Where are you? Merlin's voice answers.

Near our secret entrance. Where are you?

With Aithusa, trying to find out if she remembers any of Morgana's allies or followers. Mordred, I'm impressed! This is quite a distance you—

Merlin, please! This is very important.

"Your quarters?" Kara asks.

"No. Please, Kara, I need to concentrate. I'm trying to contact someone," he hushes her as gently as he can, despite the panic he is feeling. He turns his thoughts back to Merlin. A raven has just been sent to the Lady Morgana bearing news of the child. Can it be intercepted?

What? How? Mordred can feel Merlin's bewilderment and concern wrapping around him like a cold shroud.

I'll explain when I see you. Can you intercept the raven?

Mordred pauses at the end of a corridor, checking to see if it is empty while he waits for Merlin's reply. "Clear," he whispers to Kara, hauling her along behind him once again.

I've sent Aithusa. She will be able to find and stop it. Merlin's confirmation makes Mordred feel a little better, especially because he said "will" and not "should". He pounds on the door to Gaius' rooms.

Thank the gods. I'm about to enter Gaius' rooms. Will you meet me here as soon as possible?

I'm on my way. Mordred, what is going on?

Mordred sighs. I have the assassin.

"Mordred!" a tired-looking Gaius exclaims. "Who is this?"

xXx

Merlin arrives in a surprisingly short amount of time, causing everyone to jump when he bursts into Gaius' quarters. He stops in his tracks when he sees the young Druid girl sitting in a wooden chair, drinking some water. Her face is tear-streaked and her eyes are red.

"Morgana sent you," Merlin says. "I can sense her influence on you." As the girl looks down at her lap, Merlin's eyes flash for just a moment. No one sees it except Gaius, who raises an eyebrow.

"Merlin," Mordred says, "this is Kara. She's from my camp. She and I… that is… we…" he trails off, blushing.

"I see," Merlin says, understanding. He walks over to Kara and crouches beside her. "Look at me," he says. Slowly, she turns her face and he looks into her eyes for a long moment. Then, he places his hand on her forehead and closes his eyes.

"She's not enchanted," Mordred softly says. "Just… terribly misled."

Merlin drops his hand from Kara's forehead and looks at Mordred. "One can never be too careful." He pulls up a chair and sits facing her. She flinches at his sudden motion, and he softens a little. "I'm not going to hurt you," he states in a gentler tone. "My name is Merlin."

"H-hello," she says, peeking up at him for a second before dropping her gaze again.

"Gwaine brought this," Gaius volunteers, offering the wrapped dagger.

"Thank you," Merlin says, taking it. He unwraps it on his lap without touching it. He can see the reddish-brown stain left on the white linen of the napkin near the handle as well as remnants of blood on the weapon. "Hmm." He looks at Kara. "Let me see your hand."

Merlin's voice remains gentle, but his tone clearly suggests he is not one with whom to be trifled. Kara holds out her hand, and he sees the cut on the thick pad of her palm below her thumb.

"Merlin, she's already confessed," Mordred says. "There's no need."

"I understand that," Merlin says. "But, we must be prepared if she changes her mind when brought before the king and queen."

Mordred frowns, but nods.

"You have something to say?" Merlin asks.

Mordred presses his lips together, thinking. He's not accustomed to this side of Merlin. This Merlin is a stern, serious man, someone not to be crossed. Even during his lessons, Merlin is his usual affable self. He takes his responsibility seriously, but Mordred has never felt this uneasy in his presence before. Suddenly, he realizes he truly is in the presence of a very great man. This is Emrys.

"Speak your mind, please," Merlin prompts when he sees Mordred's hesitation. "You know you are safe with me."

"I would like to speak on Kara's behalf to the king and queen," Mordred says. "Kara... she's not a killer. She was poisoned by Morgana's words. Not enchanted, as I said, just... misguided."

Kara looks up at Mordred, slightly wounded at his words.

"I'm sorry, Kara, but it is the truth." He turns his attention back to Merlin. "When our camp was ambushed and we had to scatter... we were all lost. Confused. I lost track of her in the chaos. I fell in with the bounty hunters with whom you met me earlier this year, keeping my head down and my mouth closed to survive. Others blended into villages. Still others... like Kara... were not so lucky. Wandering, homeless. She..."

"I'd like to tell him," Kara softly interjects, looking at Mordred.

"Please," Merlin says. "I'd rather hear it from you, actually."

"Mordred is right, sir. I was lost and homeless." Her voice is soft and halting. "Everywhere I looked for help, I was turned away. Occasionally, someone would give me a bite to eat, but people were afraid to take me in. I was alone. So alone." She sniffles. "My magic isn't even that strong," she adds, as an afterthought.

"Tell him what happened," Mordred prompts. "In the forest."

"Bandits," she whispers. "They tried to rob me. And, when they found out I had no money... they... they tried to take..." she breaks off, looking down again as her tears fall afresh.

"Yes," Merlin says. She doesn't need to explain. "Morgana rescued you?"

Kara nods, not looking up. "She did. She killed the bandits and took me in. She was so fearless. She told me she was not afraid of anyone or anything, and I should not be afraid of anything, either. She told me she was my only friend. She... she told me so many things. I realize now she did want me to be afraid of one thing, and it was her. I realize now not all of the things she told me were true. They were mostly lies."

"How did you come to this realization?" Merlin asks.

"My Mordred showed me," she says, looking up at the young knight. "He... he told me the king knows about his magic and he was not put to death. He told me things are changing here. That Morgana is wrong; she doesn't know what is actually happening in Camelot. Morgana said this is a place full of cruelty and ignorance. She told me the king is a stubborn fool who is on the path to being the same narrow-minded tyrant as his father." She looks down at her hands again.

"What makes you believe Mordred's words over Morgana's?"

"Well, I have known Mordred since we were children. And... he... he showed me, sir." She looks up at Merlin. She knows he isn't a noble, but he has a quality that compels her to address him respectfully. "I... I cannot explain it. We... we are bonded as... partners. He can share things with me without using words."

"It's similar to how you and I can communicate without speaking," Mordred explains. "Except with Kara, I don't have to use words at all. It's pure feeling. Truth. It's, um, a bit intimate..." he trails off, blushing.

Merlin nods. "I understand. Are you able to demonstrate this? I don't need you to do it now, but should Arthur require a demonstration..."

"Yes," Mordred immediately answers. "This is how I knew she wasn't enchanted, actually. I was able to reach her. I remembered what happened with the queen's enchantment, how the king had to speak to her heart. So, that is what I did. I daresay I had an easier time of it than the king."

"You are fortunate," Merlin says.

"Sir," Kara speaks up again. "Morgana convinced me that King Arthur is an enemy of magic users. She... she made me feel as though I was a traitor to my kind if I didn't come here and..." she trails off a moment, wiping her eyes. "She would berate me if I showed any hesitation or vulnerability... she promised I would be her lady-in-waiting when she was on the throne." She sniffles and bows her head again, ashamed. "I was wooed by her words, and... and bullied by them as well." She lifts her head and looks at Merlin, straight into his unsettlingly bright blue eyes. "I am so sorry, sir. I cannot express the shame I feel... now that I know how wrong I was. How wrong Morgana is."

The sound of knights running past the doors causes them all to pause a moment.

"Merlin, perhaps you should alert Sir Leon and have him call off the search. It will be dawn soon," Gaius quietly recommends.

"Right," Merlin goes to the door and speaks to the first knight he sees, asking him to send for Leon. As he closes the door, something taps on one of the windows.

"What on earth?" Gaius says, confused. "We are in a tower..."

Merlin is already jogging over to the window and opening it. A lifeless black bird, slightly charred and still smoking, is tossed in, followed by a chirp that sounds like Aithusa is quite proud of herself. "Thank you, Aithusa," Merlin says, smiling warmly out the window. "You have done a very good thing tonight." There's another chirp followed by a great whoosh, and Merlin closes the window. He bends and picks up the dead raven. "I thought she'd eat it, actually," he absently mutters, walking back over to Kara and Mordred.

"That is the raven I sent," Kara immediately confirms. "Morgana's ravens all have the same type of bracelet." She points to a small band around the bird's leg, made of blackened silver.

Merlin tosses it on the bench beside the knife.

"Merlin..." Gaius admonishes. "That is a dead bird. I treat patients on that bench."

"Sorry," Merlin says, picking it up again. "Hand me that basket," he says to Mordred. The knight passes him the basket and Merlin drops the bird inside.

Kara puzzles at Merlin, unable to understand this young man who one minute has the imposing and serious nature of a much older man and the next is relaxed and youthful. Morgana never mentioned him. I wonder if she knew him? "Sir?"

"Yes?" Merlin turns.

"May I ask a question?"

"Yes."

"Did Morgana know you? She never mentioned your name," Kara asks.

"She knew me," Merlin says. "But, she only knew me as Arthur's servant, and that is the way it shall remain," he pointedly adds, turning serious again.

"I... I understand," Kara says. Suddenly, she realizes the choice Mordred has given her is exactly as he said. Either I stay here with them, join them, or I will be executed. They will not allow me to leave and risk my telling Morgana what I have learned here. Morgana told me they were fools. Cruel. Uncaring, unfeeling. Especially when it comes to people with magic.

But, I have been treated with kindness. Merlin is stern, and I can tell he is not to be crossed, but I can also see great kindness and compassion in him. The old man, Gaius, is wise and gentle. Mordred is happy here. I can see his happiness among these people.

Mordred has assured me that the king and queen are good. Understanding and open, not ignorant and merciless.

Again, Kara looks at Merlin, into his eyes, and sees his goodness and light shining through. It is nothing like the shuttered windows of Lady Morgana's eyes. She looks over at Mordred. He gives her a sweet smile of encouragement, silently letting her know everything will be all right.

She looks down again, her stomach tightening into a knot. I feel like such a fool. Allowing myself to be so misled by her.

There is a sharp knock on the door, and Merlin goes to answer it. "Sir Leon, come in, please," Merlin invites him in, closing the door behind him.

"Sir Edwin said it was urgent," Leon says, clearly anxious to return to his duties.

"You can call off the search. We have the assassin," Merlin says.

"Where?" The First Knight of Camelot looks around the room. His eyes land on the only person he does not recognize. "Surely not this girl," he gestures to Kara. Merlin nods. "Why is she just sitting there? Why is she not restrained?" he asks, scowling.

"She is," Merlin firmly says. Kara tries to move in her seat, only to find herself stuck fast to the wooden chair. She looks up at Merlin, eyes wide. Merlin simply nods.

"She should be taken to the dungeons immediately," Leon says. He starts to walk towards her, and Merlin boldly places his hand on the knight's arm to stop him.

"Wait. She is not completely responsible for her actions," Merlin says. "We should bring her before the king and queen and let them hear what she has to say."

"She tried to kill the king," Leon presses.

"She was acting under duress," Merlin counters.

"Sir Leon, please," Mordred says. "I know this girl. She is from my camp."

Leon looks at Mordred, at the young knight's hand on the girl's shoulder. He raises an eyebrow, but simply says, "I will call off the search. You can wake the king and queen," he tells Merlin, spinning on his heel and leaving.

"I'd wager what little money I have that Arthur is not sleeping," Merlin says.

xXx

Arthur was not sleeping. In fact, he was wide awake and seemed almost happy to see Merlin.

"Merlin!" he exclaimed quietly, conscious of his sleeping wife. "Please tell me you have good news."

"Sort of," Merlin says. "We have the assassin..."

"Why is that only 'sort of' good news?"

"There's a complication. She's in Gaius' rooms now – don't worry, she cannot go anywhere – and, well..."

"Out with it, Merlin," Arthur says, growing impatient.

"You need to hear what she has to say," Merlin says.

"She'll be given a trial," Arthur declares, as though it should be obvious.

"She doesn't need a trial. She's confessed. She needs protection."

"What?"

"She wasn't enchanted by Morgana, but was definitely under her thumb. Just... just trust me, Arthur. She's only a girl."

Arthur sighs and walks away, thinking. "She tried to kill me. But, if Morgana somehow forced her to..." He leans against the windowsill, looking out at the courtyard through the colored glass panels, watching the blurred shapes of people walking about in the dim light of the early dawn, getting ready to begin the day. "Fetch Ella, please. We will see you in the throne room in an hour," he finally says, barely turning his head to talk over his shoulder.

"Thank you," Merlin says. "Did you sleep at all, Arthur?" he asks, his hand on the door handle.

Arthur turns around and looks at him. "Does it look like I've slept?" he sarcastically asks.

Merlin snorts a short laugh. "Well, at least change your clothes," he says. "I can send up George."

"No!" Arthur answers too quickly. "No, I'll be fine."

"Even so, I'll have some food sent up. You may have no appetite, but Gwen needs to eat," Merlin says. Then, he disappears.

Arthur puts the bolt back into place and stares at it. After a moment, he walks through the closed curtains to the sleeping chamber, takes a second to gaze down at his sleeping Guinevere, then drops a kiss on her cheek.

"Guinevere," he quietly says. "Ella is on her way up, Love."

Guinevere scrunches tighter under the covers for a moment, then blinks her eyes open. "Hmm?"

"Ella is on her way up. The assassin has been caught, and we're expected in the throne room in an hour," Arthur says, sitting beside her on the bed now. He reaches down and strokes her hair.

"A trial already?" she asks sleepily. She stretches, then sits up and leans against Arthur's shoulder.

"Not a trial. She wishes to speak to us."

"She? The assassin is a woman?" Guinevere asks.

Arthur sighs. "According to Merlin, she's little more than a girl."

"Morgana," she sadly sighs.

"Yes," Arthur agrees.

xXx

"You know this girl, Sir Mordred?" Arthur asks, looking down at the young knight. He is standing on one side of Kara, Merlin is on the other. Kara is looking at her feet.

"Yes, Sire, we were in the same Druid camp. I have known her nearly eight years."

"How old are you, Kara?" Guinevere softly asks.

"Sixteen, my lady," a visibly trembling Kara answers, her voice is almost a whisper as she risks a peek at the queen.

Guinevere looks over at Arthur, who nods. The girl may be more willing to speak to Guinevere right now.

"Will you tell us how you came to be in the Lady Morgana's company?"

Kara slowly lifts her eyes to Guinevere again, looking longer this time. She immediately can tell that the beautiful queen is a kind and gentle soul, wise and understanding. Sympathy pours from her, genuine sympathy brought forth by her past as a servant. Kara then peeks at the king and feels such shame over what she attempted that she immediately drops her eyes again. "Yes, my lady," she answers.

She haltingly tells them everything she's told Merlin and Mordred. She speaks quietly, but her voice carries easily in the silence of the throne room. Leon, Gwaine, and Percival are also present, but no one utters a word.

"...I had no choice. I see that now," Kara finishes. "She surely would have killed me had I refused. Or she would have used her magic to force me..."

"I understand completely," Guinevere answers. "As should Merlin," she nods at her husband's servant. "Both he and I have been victims of Morgana's enchantments." She looks at Arthur. "Her treatment of this girl sounds very similar to what Morgana did to me in the tower, remember?" she quietly notes. "The threats and pain alternating with affection and promises?" Arthur solemnly nods his head, remembering his wife's vivid description of the horrific treatment she endured at the hands of his sister. No. He reminds himself. Not my sister. No longer. His hand involuntarily clenches. He glances at his wife and Guinevere sees the storm gathering in her husband's eyes. Taking a deep breath, she turns her attention to Kara. "Did Lady Morgana make use of any... roots dripping with a black substance while you were in her care?"

"No, my lady. There were no mandrake roots. I have heard tales of the enchantment of which you speak. It is horrible and I would not wish it on anyone," Kara softly says.

"Indeed," Guinevere says, not elaborating.

"Kara was not enchanted," Merlin volunteers. "Mordred and I can both confirm this."

"I... I allowed myself to be swayed from the things I knew to be true. From the values my parents taught me. They would be so ashamed... I'm so ashamed..." she trails off, unable to speak through her tears. She takes a deep breath and summons the will to look at Arthur. "I am so sorry, my lord. I cannot express my remorse over what I attempted." She is surprised when she sees concern in his eyes, but no hatred or malice.

"Why was there blood on the dagger's handle?" Arthur asks. He's been puzzling over this detail, wondering about the significance, if any, of the blood on the weapon.

Kara holds up her hand, showing him the cut. "It slipped when I pulled it out to throw," she explains.

"The dagger wasn't enchanted, if that's what you're wondering," Merlin explains. "This isn't a case where the weapon needed some of her blood to complete a spell."

"So, Morgana sent a girl who gets so nervous she injures herself while trying to kill me," Arthur muses. He looks at Merlin. "She's getting sloppy."

"I had the same thought," Merlin nods.

"That's troubling. If she's so flustered that she resorts to such measures..."

"Well, we did take Aithusa away from her. And, Mordred refused to join her," Merlin points out.

Kara gasps slightly, surprised. She knew Morgana was very upset over her little dragon, and, truthfully, Kara rather liked the creature as well. She didn't know Mordred had encountered Morgana recently.

"She did not tell you," Mordred says, looking down at Kara. "To keep your loyalty, she did not tell you she had seen me. She has seen me twice, in fact. Both times she attempted to woo me to join her, and both times I refused. She was well aware of my presence here, Kara. And, she was well aware that if you knew where I was, you would leave her without a second thought." He pauses, suddenly unsure. "Wouldn't you?"

"Of course I would have!" Kara says, gripping his hand. Then, remembering herself, she drops it again. "Forgive me, Sire."

Arthur nods once, still mulling over all he has been told. "You appear to have seen the error of your ways, Kara," he says at length. "How are we to know you won't escape and go running back to Morgana?"

"I know my word means nothing right now, Sire, but it is all I have," Kara answers, forcing herself to look at him so he knows she is in earnest. "I know I was wrong, and I promise to change my ways."

"I will take responsibility for her, my lord," Mordred says. "It... it is my place to do so."

"Are the two of you betrothed?" Guinevere asks.

"We are promised to one another," Mordred explains. "We... we chose one another three years ago, and have been blessed by Iseldir, our clan leader. We will be betrothed next year when I am 18, my lady."

"Is it usual to do this at such a young age?" she asks.

"It can be done at any age, my lady, but usually no younger than 13," Mordred explains. "When one knows, one knows. As I believe you are aware."

Guinevere smiles and nods. She looks to Arthur, still looking pensive on his throne.

"Kara, while I forgive you, I cannot let your deed go unpunished." He pauses, and Kara nods in understanding. "However, I recognize the need to keep you away from Morgana, for the safety of all of us."

"Thank you, Sire," she whispers.

He looks at Guinevere a long moment, then leans towards her. The two sovereigns whisper quietly for a short time, then straighten up again.

"Merlin," he calls, beckoning with his hand.

Merlin walks forward and briefly confers with Arthur. The servant nods a few times, then returns to stand beside Kara.

"Kara, you have confessed to the crime of attempted assassination. You have shown remorse and have promised to turn your back on Morgana. However, in the interest of everyone's well-being, you will be kept under lock and key until any and all possible repercussions have passed."

Kara nods, pursing her lips and looking down. She wipes away a tear.

"We won't be putting you in the dungeons," Arthur continues.

"Thank you, Sire," Kara whispers, a relieved sob escaping.

"You will remain in the guest room nearest Gaius' chambers, under guard." Arthur's eyes land meaningfully on Merlin, who nods almost imperceptibly. "You will be fed and given clothes, and will be treated as a guest apart from the fact that you will be locked in. No one will be allowed into your room except myself, Queen Guinevere, and Merlin."

Mordred opens his mouth to protest, but quickly closes it.

"Sir Mordred may visit you if Merlin is present as well," Arthur explains, noting the young man's demeanor. "We trust you, Mordred, but your deep feelings for Kara prevent you from having the proper objectivity."

Mordred nods. As long as I get to see her. "You are right, Sire," he allows, fully aware the king knows about his difficulty controlling his feelings.

"The queen's maid will attend you when required," Arthur continues, "accompanied by the queen and Merlin, of course. The queen's bodyguard, Sir Percival, will be posted outside while the queen is in your room."

Percival nods once in acknowledgment.

"If you wish to use this time for study, we can provide you with books. I have a large collection of volumes on herbology in which you might be interested," Guinevere suggests.

"Thank you, my lady," Kara answers.

"Is there any other topic you would like to study?"

Kara shyly looks down. "I was studying the healing arts before our camp was attacked, my lady. I should like to continue, if you please."

Guinevere smiles. "I think this can be arranged," she says, nodding. "Merlin, once Kara is settled, please bring her some food and have Ella help you gather some clean clothes and a basin of water." She turns her gaze back to Kara. "If you wish for a proper bath, one will be brought to you later."

"Thank you, my lady. You have shown me more kindness than I deserve," Kara whispers, humbled at the king and queen's merciful treatment of her.

Guinevere grants her a sad smile, then looks at Arthur. He reaches over and gently takes her hand.

"Sir Gwaine, will you join Merlin and Sir Mordred in escorting our guest to her new quarters?" Arthur calls.

Gwaine nods and steps forward, joining the three others as they walk from the throne room.

"Sire," Leon steps forward. "That girl is a Druid, and Morgana is a High Priestess. Are you certain locking her in a room is going to be sufficient protection?"

"I am quite certain it is very adequate protection," Arthur answers. "Merlin will ensure it."

"Oh, I see. He's going to do something to her room," Leon nods, understanding.

"I figured it was safer for everyone if she didn't know," Arthur explains.

"Arthur," Guinevere says, turning to look at him, "how long do you think it will be before Morgana misses her?"

xXx

That night, Arthur clears his throat in the way that suggests he has something to say which is not exactly comfortable for him.

"Sire?" Merlin asks, gathering the king's laundry. Guinevere and Ella are quietly talking behind the privacy screen as the queen prepares for bed.

"Um, your dragon... Aithusa, is that her name?"

"Yes," Merlin says. "What of her?"

"She really snatched a raven in flight, in the middle of the night, for you?" Arthur asks.

"Yes. I didn't even have to command her. She was quite willing to help. I think... I think she wanted to prove herself to me. And, to you," Merlin answers, setting the basket of laundry on the table.

"Truly?"

Merlin nods. "She was trying to tell me something before Mordred, um, contacted me with the news he had the assassin. We've been attempting to work out some form of communication. I mean, she can understand me, but cannot speak… and writing is not an option... so..."

"Merlin," Arthur says, bringing the servant's thoughts back into focus.

"Right. But, I wonder if she was trying to tell me about Kara. I shall have to ask her. We have 'yes' and 'no' pretty well sorted," Merlin says.

"When you do... I... I'd like to reward her for her help in some way. Does she have any favorite... treats?" Arthur asks, furrowing his brows. Guinevere, having already dismissed Ella for the night, emerges in her nightdress, hair braided, and comes over to stand by her husband. He automatically puts his arm around her and kisses her forehead. "What does she eat, exactly? Or, is there something else she might like?"

"Chickens are her favorite," Merlin says. "The fresher, the better. Actually, alive would be best, if possible..."

Guinevere makes a slight face.

"Oh, is that all?" Arthur asks. "Take five or six, then. And tell her thank you. From both of us." He looks over at Guinevere, who nods.

"I think three will be sufficient, and I will," Merlin nods, smiling. "She will be very happy with the gift and the thanks."

"Well, were it not for her, Morgana would be on her way here with murderous intentions," Arthur says. "She has our gratitude."

Merlin nods. "I'll take them to her in the morning," he says. "Kara has been no trouble, by the way. She seems... relieved."

"Good. You've seen to it that she will be no trouble?" Arthur confirms.

"Of course. Her room is guarded by my magic so that only you or I can open the doors. And, her magic is bound while she's in her room, so she won't be able to do anything."

Arthur nods approvingly. I hadn't thought of such a possibility. "Impressive. Thank you, Merlin."

Merlin picks up the laundry basket. "Just doing my duty, Sire," he says, nods at them, and exits.

Arthur wraps his arms around Guinevere, pulling her into a tight hug. "Hmm. There is a little more to you, isn't there?" he asks, grinning into her hair.

"Oh!" she exclaims, shoving ineffectively at him, but she cannot stop the giggles from coming forth.

"I can only tell because I know your delectable little body so well, my Love," he says, sliding his hand down to give her backside a playful squeeze.

"You need sleep," she declares, removing his hand from her bum and using it to lead him to bed.

"Why, because I'm teasing you?" he asks, freeing his hand to slide around her middle, splaying his fingers over her stomach, which is just a bit bigger.

"No, because you didn't sleep at all last night. And you're behaving like a giddy child, which you do when you're overtired," she says, squirming out of his grasp and climbing into bed, still chuckling a little despite her best efforts.

Arthur makes a disgruntled noise but slips into bed and pulls her into his arms. "I love you," he tenderly says, tilting her chin up and kissing her softly, but thoroughly.

"I love you, too," she answers, setting her head back on his shoulder. A moment later, she remembers something that occurred to her in the throne room this morning when she heard Kara's story. "Arthur?"

"Hmm?"

"I think this was Mordred's test. You know, the one Merlin told you about," she says, lifting her head again to look at him.

"You think?" he asks.

"Well, after hearing Kara's tale, and Mordred's, how he convinced her to turn her back on Morgana…" Guinevere says. Once Kara had gotten settled in her room, Arthur summoned Mordred back to ask him for more details about how he found her and what happened. "He was clearly conflicted because of his feelings for Kara, but chose to bring her to our side instead of allowing himself to be blinded by his love for her. He could have easily gone back with her to Morgana simply because of that."

"You are right," Arthur nods. "He is very young and his feelings are a weak spot for him; we know this."

"Says the man who was going to renounce his claim to the throne over a girl," she gently reminds him.

"Yes, well, that girl didn't let me do it, anyway," he says, waving his hand dismissively, a grin on his face. His grin turns sweet and wistful as he looks down at her. "I still would, you know," he softly adds, kissing her forehead.

Guinevere smiles back at him, then leans up to kiss his lips. "I think you and Mordred are more alike than you may realize," she says. "And I mean that in a good way, of course."

"Of course," he agrees. "Well, if this was his test, and I think you are right about that, he seems to have passed it. I think we'll still need to keep an eye on him in regards to Kara. Just to be on the safe side."

"It certainly is wise not to allow Mordred unchaperoned visits with her," Guinevere says, snuggling against Arthur.

"Hmm," Arthur thoughtfully responds. "I'll mention it to Merlin tomorrow, to see what he thinks."

Guinevere closes her eyes. "Merlin has really proven himself indispensable in many ways, hasn't he?" she asks sleepily.

"Yes…" Arthur agrees, furrowing his brows, "indeed he has…"

Chapter Text

The news of the queen's pregnancy was the source of much joy for the people of Camelot. The announcement was made nearly two months after Kara's arrival, Guinevere's small stature and the baby's large size making it necessary.

Not everyone was surprised. Many in the castle had already noticed or suspected but kept quiet, waiting for the official announcement. Word of Sir Leon's ire regarding earlier rumors had spread like wildfire, of course, which helped many of the looser-lipped servants hold their tongues. Mrs. Seward once asked Percival how the queen was faring with her morning sickness. The large, gentle knight valiantly tried to neither confirm nor deny the older woman's suspicions since he didn't feel he could lie to her. She merely gave him a look and slowly nodded, pursing her lips.

Kara has been no trouble at all. She quickly learned that Merlin had bound her magic when she tried to light a candle without a taper, but bore him no ill will over it. Kara understood it was necessary, and was honestly willing to stay in her room indefinitely if it meant she'd never have to see Morgana again.

The queen has been immeasurably kind to her, bringing her dresses, ensuring her personal needs are met, and eventually sitting and talking with her for short periods of time. Merlin was always hovering in the shadows, but Kara did not mind. She actually found herself growing to like the strange man who was a puzzling paradox of lowly manservant and powerful wizard. After the first week, he would, in fact, stay well out of the way while she and Mordred slowly became reacquainted.

It did not take long for gifts to begin arriving for both Mother and Baby. Gifts from the people started being delivered right away. Once word began to spread, they arrived from outside of Camelot as well.

Arthur and Guinevere were not allowed near any gift until after it had been thoroughly inspected by Merlin. So far, every gift has been free of enchantment and declared safe. Even the unexpected present of an embroidered blanket from King Odin was not only harmless, but quite charming.

"I'm tired of jumping at every turn," Guinevere had sighed over dinner one night. "I understand and agree with the reason for all the added safety, of course, but... I feel as though I'm never alone. I took a walk in the gardens today and felt like I was leading an expedition."

Arthur gave her a sad smile, taking her hand. "It's the anticipation," he agreed. "The knowing something is going to happen, but..."

"Not knowing what," Guinevere finished.

"Or when," Arthur added. "This sounds terrible, but sometimes I wish she would just do something and get it over with."

Guinevere nodded. "It doesn't sound terrible; I feel the same— oh!" She pulled her hand from Arthur's and placed both on her belly. "He kicked," she said, looking up at him, smiling.

"Truly?" Arthur asked, immediately leaving his seat. He pulled her chair away from the table just enough to kneel before her, his hands over hers.

"Here," she slid her hands out from under his and moved one to where she last felt the kick.

Arthur waited patiently, his hands spread over his wife's swollen abdomen, trying to cover as much area as possible.

A moment later, he was rewarded. "That's my boy," he quietly said, beaming up at Guinevere before lifting up on his knees to kiss her. "Or girl," he amended, nuzzling her nose with his.

xXx

"It's quite chilly tonight, my lady, shall I stoke the fire?" Ella asks a few weeks later, hovering near the fireplace.

"Yes, that will be fine, thank you," Guinevere answers. Someone knocks at the door, and Ella looks up, her arms full of wood. "Not to worry. I'll get it," Guinevere tells her, and the maid nods. The queen goes to the doors and opens one. A page hands her a note, bows slightly, and wanders away. "Thank you, Will," she calls after him.

Meet me in the throne room. Love, Arthur

Guinevere smiles. "Ella, I'm going down to the throne room to meet the king. I'm sure we'll be back soon."

"Yes, my lady," Ella says. Guinevere drops the note on the table and heads out.

xXx

"Arthur?" Guinevere calls into the dim light of the empty throne room. She can see a silhouette on his throne, and assumes it to be him. "What did you need, my love?"

"I need you to stop slipping through my fingers and just die already. Slowly. You and the brat you carry," a too-familiar voice answers.

Guinevere gasps and stops walking, cold dread stealing over her. Instinctively, she covers her stomach with her hands. You are safe. Trust Merlin. But, don't let her know.

You are safe.

"My dear former friend. The maid who won the heart of the prince, now swollen with his bastard offspring," Morgana intones, her voice cold and oily. She stands and steps down from the dais. "I will kill you both," she hisses, stalking towards Guinevere, "but not before my dear brother arrives. He must watch you suffer. He must watch as I cut that brat out of you and bash its tiny skull against the stones. Hmm…" Smirking coldly, a predatory gleam in her eyes, she extends her hands out, reaching for Guinevere's stomach. "Let's see the little dar—"

"You will not touch my baby!" Guinevere yells, stepping forward to meet Morgana, her dagger in her hand. She thrusts the weapon smoothly forward, just as Arthur showed her, driving it into Morgana's abdomen.

xXx

"My lord!" Ella exclaims, surprised to see Arthur walking into the royal chambers. She almost drops her mistress' nightdress, which she was just taking out of the wardrobe.

"Ella," he greets, then looks around. "Where is the queen?"

"Um, she... she left a short time ago to meet you in the throne room, Sire..." the maid answers, confused. "She got your note," she added, pointing towards the table.

"I didn't send a note," Arthur says, immediately alarmed. He picks up the slip of parchment to which Ella had pointed. It is written in my hand. "Did she go alone?" He drops the note and starts scanning the room, searching for something.

"I... I believe so, Sire. I'm... I'm sorry, she wanted me to stay here and tend the fire... I..." Ella becomes upset, a few tears falling.

"It's not your fault, Ella," Arthur absently says, jogging to the corner where his sword is sitting, sheathed in its belt. He grabs it and bolts from the room, putting on his sword belt as he goes.

xXx

Morgana's derisive laughter rings throughout the throne room. "Not as meek as I was expecting, Gwen, well done," she says, pushing Guinevere forcefully away. "But, your puny blade cannot harm me. I am a High Priestess of the Old Religion," she spits. Then, she extends her arm forward, and Guinevere is thrown back against a pillar, held immobile as ropes wind around her small body, ensnaring her.

Guinevere's head hits the hard stone, but she is only dazed for the briefest moment, Merlin's enchantment protecting her. She keeps her sense enough to appear to swoon slightly, so Morgana won't suspect anything.

Morgana looks down at the wound in her belly, tuts at it as if it were a naughty kitten, then presses her fingers against the cut. She brings them up to her face and gazes at the thick, dark red blood on her fingers, then licks them, humming as though she were enjoying a sumptuous meal. Guinevere winces slightly, horrified at the monster her former mistress has become.

"You don't have to do this, Morgana," Guinevere says, softly at first, as though she has just recovered. "You can choose another path. You don't have to..."

"Oh, but I do," Morgana says, slowly walking towards Guinevere. "Uther took away my choices. And Arthur is simply another Uther. I will return magic to this land, and it will be glorious."

"You are wrong about Arthur," Guinevere says, "and you are wrong about yourself. Morgana, please... remember how—"

"Gwen, you don't have to stall by engaging me in mindless prattle," Morgana cuts her off, shaking her head reproachfully. She reaches out and caresses the queen's belly, sticking out prominently as the ropes pull her gown tight across it. "I'm not going to do anything to you until Arthur gets here."

Guinevere struggles ineffectively, unable to squirm away from Morgana's touch. She cannot hurt you she cannot hurt you she cannot know but she cannot hurt you. The words repeat over and over in Guinevere's head.

"Come now, Gwen, you didn't honestly believe you would be able to bring a child into this kingdom, did you? You didn't honestly think I would allow this... half-servant offspring to take one breath, did you?" Morgana sneers. "Your little bastard there may be before me in line to the throne... but he'll never get there." She pokes Guinevere's stomach, punctuating her words. Then, she sighs, almost dreamily. "He's just so... wonderfully helpless. Killing him will be as effortless as breathing."

Guinevere's blood runs cold at Morgana's heartless demeanor. The Morgana I served would never hurt an innocent child. This woman is not that person. She summons her nerve, her will to fight. "Strong words coming from someone who actually is, unlike my child, the bastard offspring of a king," she haughtily answers, slightly surprised at her own words.

Morgana's eyes widen in surprise, then she slaps Guinevere, growling viciously. Next, she squares her shoulders, reaches up, and caresses the queen's cheek, leaving a streak of blood from her fingers. Her eyes narrow in contempt and she leans in close as Guinevere attempts to squirm away. "Arthur will have the honor of watching as I kill his brat," she whispers, her lips almost touching Guinevere's ear. "And so will you... if you survive my cutting him out of you." She smirks and leans down, pressing her lips against Guinevere's stomach, kissing it. The queen winces, swallowing hard against the bile that rises in her throat at the witch's actions. Morgana straightens up and turns away from her, saying, "Then, your love will see you slowly, painfully bleed to death before I dispatch him as—"

"Morgana!" Arthur's voice booms through the large room as he runs forward. Morgana blasts him backwards.

"Idiot," she snaps, turning her attention to Arthur now, striding towards him. "So easily manipulated. So easily fooled," she continues, watching as the dazed king slowly gets to his feet. "Never sees what's right in front of him." She barks a short laugh. "Did not even notice a bracelet your precious Guinevere had never worn before. Did not even notice the change in your darling wife's behavior," she continues, blasting Arthur back again as soon as he regains his balance. "Just as foolish as your father. You made it so simple sometimes."

"Morgana, I am warning you..." Arthur gasps, the second blast having knocked the wind out of him.

"You are warning me?" Morgana says, laughing. "Threats, threats, threats; that's all you Pendragon men know. Uther was a tyrant and a fool. He deserved worse than the death he got. The death I provided," she said.

Her words stop Arthur cold. "You?" he gasps.

She scoffs, sending another blast in his direction. "Of course." Smirking, she cocks her head to the side, waiting for Arthur to recover enough to hear her words. When he lifts his head, she continues. "Agravaine was by far my best accomplice. Well, until I had control of Gwen, of course. Forgive me, Gwen. You were exceedingly brilliant." She blows a kiss to the queen.

"Go to hell," Guinevere answers sharply, squirming in her bonds.

"Not until I put both of you there first. You can give Uther a kiss for me. I'm sure he would love it." She turns back to Arthur. "Tell him how it was I who brought about his death. Tell him how the amulet Agravaine slipped over his neck reversed the effects of the spell your inept sorcerer used to try to heal him." Morgana sighed, smiling ruefully. "It was the perfect crime, really. Uther dies, and someone else takes the fall." Ignoring the stunned Arthur, she makes her way back to Guinevere. "Now. Where was I? Oh, yes. Where did I put that adorable little toy of yours?" She turns around, looking for the queen's dagger. "I will gut you with your own tiny weapon," she declares, picking it up and inspecting it.

The next sound she hears is one of Arthur unsheathing his sword. "You will not touch her," he says, quickly closing in on Morgana.

"I already have," she casually answers with a small laugh, untroubled, and nonchalantly turns to face him. His eyes dart to Guinevere, noting with some concern the blood on her cheek and gown, but his brave wife nods reassuringly, signaling she is unharmed.

Arthur raises his sword to Morgana's chest. She looks down at the blade in his hand. "Fool," she scoffs, "no mortal weapon can kill me."

Arthur pauses. He looks down at his sword, and immediately Merlin's words flash through his mind. It is an immortal blade. Without a word, he lunges forward, plunging the blade into his half-sister's body.

Her mouth opens in shock, her eyes wild as pain rips through her. "I... I don't underst..." she gasps, coughing and trembling. The dagger falls from her fingers as she scrabbles for purchase on something solid. She winds up gripping Arthur's shirt. He stands, motionless, his face hard and cold as she stares, wide-eyed, up at him. "No... Emrys..." she rasps, shuddering, "he is... my doom... not you... not..." She coughs again, blood bubbling from her lips now. "How...?" she falters, her legs giving way. "You... You're not Em—"

"No, I'm not. I am Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot," Arthur answers, thrusting the blade farther in, then jerking it slightly upwards. The sword feels warm in his grasp, almost vibrating with purpose, as if it knows this act will bring peace to the land and erase fear from his people's hearts. A low hiss sounds from Morgana's mouth as her last breath leaves her. She slumps and Arthur pushes her away. Morgana crumples to the floor, a broken heap of black skirts. When her head hits the stone floor, a gust of cold wind blows through the throne room, accompanied by an otherworldly shriek. As the gust passes, the torches and sconces spontaneously ignite, bathing the large, dark room in light. It grows quiet again, and Arthur looks down at Morgana's lifeless body. A pool of dark blood is slowly spreading out on the stones beneath her.

"Arthur," Guinevere whispers, sobbing, still bound to the pillar.

"Guinevere," Arthur runs to her and slashes the ropes. He catches her as she stumbles forward. They slowly sink to the floor, and Arthur sets his sword down, vaguely noting that the blood shining on the blade is so dark it appears almost black. He wraps his arms around his wife, letting his own tears fall as she sobs on his shoulder.

Neither of them is sure if their tears are ones of relief that they are finally free or grief over what Morgana had become.

Guinevere looks behind Arthur at what was once the embodiment of their greatest nightmare and gasps, "She's gone." She searches her husband's deep blue eyes and whispers, "It's over?"

Arthur squeezes her tightly, kisses her hair, and answers, "Yes, Love. It's over. She's gone."

He loosens his hold and kisses her. "Are you all right?" he asks, looking at the blood on her face.

"I'm fine," Guinevere says.

"The blood..." Arthur reaches up to her cheek.

"It's not mine," she answers, and he stops his hand, an alarm sounding in his head.

The doors suddenly burst open, and Merlin comes running in. "Arthur! Are you— oh..." Merlin pulls up short at the sight before him. "She's dead."

"Very observant, Merlin," Arthur says, peering at him with one eye around Guinevere.

Merlin crouches down beside Morgana's still form. Such a shame. I wish I would have…

"How did you know to come here?" Arthur asks, as he gently helps Guinevere to her feet.

"I was having my nightly visit with Aithusa, and she was unusually agitated," the young sorcerer replies, standing and walking towards them. "I finally figured out she was trying to tell me that Morgana was in the castle, and..." he exhales heavily, "I knew the only place she would be was here in the Throne Room. I couldn't run fast enough. But, I see you didn't need me after all." Almost as if in a trance, Merlin turns and stares at Morgana's lifeless and soulless body, regret settling heavily on his shoulders.

"Merlin," Arthur calls to him, guiding Guinevere to her throne so she can sit.

"Gwen, are you all right?" Merlin asks, noticing the queen's face, now streaked with tears and blood. She looks like she's been through an ordeal.

"Yes, I'm fine, thanks mainly to you," she answers.

"That's Morgana's blood on her cheek," Arthur informs him, apprehension on his face.

"I doubt it's going to hurt her, but I'll check," Merlin says, walking over. He kneels beside her throne and reaches his hand up to her bloodied cheek. "Nothing," he says. "Good. Um..." he pats his pockets, then removes the red scarf from around his neck and wipes the blood from the queen's face with it, taking care to get it all. "Going to have to burn this, I think," he absently says, pocketing the scarf.

"Merlin... Guinevere was here alone with Morgana for..." he pauses, looking at his wife. "How long?"

"It felt like hours, but it wasn't that long. Ten minutes, I would guess," Guinevere says.

Merlin quickly passes his hand over the queen's belly. "Everything seems fine. I'd like to do a more thorough check later, if that's all right."

"I want you to do a more thorough check later," Arthur says. "But, you're right, we have to deal with this," he nods at Morgana's body, "first."

"Is she truly gone, Merlin?" Guinevere softly asks, wiping her face. "There was a... an icy wind. And a shriek, like a ghost. It reminded me of the sound the Dorocha made..."

"Yes," Arthur picks up. "And, all the torches lit," he gestures to the walls.

Merlin nods, then walks down to Morgana. He crouches beside her and presses his fingers to her neck. "Yes. She's gone. I will take her body to a secluded place in the forest. Kilgarrah and Aithusa will put their flames to her, and she will become part of the earth. Nothing will grow there ever again." His voice is quiet and a little sad.

Arthur kisses Guinevere twice, then walks over to Merlin. "Thank you, Merlin. I... I hadn't given any thought to what I would have done with her body. She certainly doesn't deserve to be buried with honor."

"I am still not certain she was past redemption," Merlin says, frowning as he rises.

"No, Merlin. That is your own regret talking. You know she was too far gone. Even if she had succeeded in taking the throne and allowing magic to return on her terms, she would have still been a demented, evil, heartless witch."

"I wish I could have done something to help her earlier. Before. I had opportunities. I could have—"

Arthur places his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Merlin. Those were her choices to make, not yours. You cannot shoulder the responsibility for her actions. Trust me, I know from experience."

Merlin smiles a little and nods, knowing full well that Arthur speaks the truth.

"There was no guarantee she wouldn't have still turned evil, even if you had tried, and if you had told her your secret before she aligned herself with Morgause, well…" Arthur raises his eyebrows, angling his head.

"It would have been very bad," Merlin quietly agrees.

"Arthur's right, Merlin. The Morgana we knew and loved... was gone. Had been gone for years," Guinevere speaks, and both men turn.

Merlin looks at the queen, then back down at Morgana. Sadly, he nods.

"Are you going to take her now?" Arthur asks, looking at Merlin. "Do you need help? I can have Percival or someone... Merlin?"

Merlin is staring into the middle distance, his eyes unfocused. A moment later, he snaps back. "Mordred will help me," he says.

"What happened just now?" Arthur asks. "You... you appeared to be somewhere... else."

"Talking to Mordred," Merlin simply says. "He and I can manage alone."

"Right," Arthur says, deciding he neither wants to hear nor much cares about the details. "When you're done..."

"I'll stop up," Merlin nods, understanding what the king is requesting. "I'm very glad neither of you were hurt," he adds, his composure finally cracking. He takes a deep breath, then glances towards the doors, looking for Mordred. When he turns back, Guinevere is beside him. She holds her arms out and he hugs her tightly.

"Thank you for all you do for us, Merlin," she whispers.

"I should have been here to protect you," he answers. "Both of you," he adds, releasing Guinevere and looking at Arthur. "All three of you," he amends, looking down at the queen's belly.

"You were. It was your protective spell that kept Morgana from seriously injuring Guinevere and the baby. It was you who had my sword forged in a dragon's breath," Arthur says, stepping closer.

Merlin bows his head, grateful for his brother's words, and takes a deep breath.

Arthur, struggling a bit himself, clears his throat and claps Merlin companionably on the shoulder. "And, be honest. You just wish you could have the glory of saying you killed the Lady Morgana," he teases, trying to lighten the mood.

Merlin snorts a short, slightly wet laugh, and wipes his eyes. "Yes, that's exactly what I'm after. Glory and fame," he chuckles. He nudges Arthur with his shoulder. "You can keep it. You're better suited to it, anyway."

"My lord? My lady? Merlin?" Mordred's voice makes them all turn, and the young knight runs forward, then stops short, surveying the scene before him. He believed Merlin when he told him Morgana was dead, but actually seeing her thus is quite jarring.

"Mordred," Merlin says, stepping towards him. "We have work to do."

Mordred nods. "It is our duty as users of magic. But, she will not be treated with honor. She did nothing to honor anyone but herself."

xXx

Ella wept with relief when her mistress returned unharmed, and nearly fell apart when she learned it was Morgana who had lured her away. Guinevere ended up having her escorted home to rest, then summoned some other maids to draw her a bath. Once it was ready, Arthur dismissed them and tended the queen himself.

Will, the page boy, had been found alive, but unconscious, in a remote corridor. Leon and Merlin questioned him, but the boy had no memory of delivering a message to the queen and was quite distraught over what had happened. "I remember having a bite to eat in the kitchen... then, I went outside, and..." he shook his head. "Nothing until just now." When they reported this to the king and queen, they all agreed Morgana had likely enchanted the page, and he was lucky to have been left alive.

By the time Merlin returned from his task, Guinevere and Arthur were feeling much better. Guinevere was sitting up on the bed, propped up against several pillows and sewing an outfit for the baby, and Arthur was at the bedside desk, staring at a parchment, occasionally putting down notes.

"We took her to a dark part of the forest," Merlin recounts, sitting heavily in a chair. "Aithusa carried her for us, and placed her on a large tree stump. I summoned Kilgarrah. No one said a word." His voice is low and without emotion, exhausted and automatic. He stares at a spot on the floor a few feet in front of him. "Aithusa shed a few tears, but I expected she would. Kilgarrah started first, initially breathing hot air, then setting her aflame. After a time, Aithusa joined in. She became angry. She understands now. Morgana was good to her, but cruel to everyone else. Aithusa knows Morgana was wrong." He sighs and reaches for a pitcher and goblet nearby, pouring himself some water. "Their flames were so hot. Mordred and I had to step back. By the time they were done, there was nothing left but a black patch of earth. This is how it will always remain. Her evil will sink into the ground and become absorbed into the earth. The goodness of the earth will overtake her blackness, but the ground will be barren." He looks up. "Mordred and I moved a great boulder over the spot, blocking it from the world."

"How is Aithusa?" Guinevere softly asks. "Do you need to be with her?"

"She is a bit confused, but I think she'll be fine. Mordred is with her now. I'll be spending the night with her after I am done here," Merlin answers, looking over at his friend and queen, pleased to see she looks like her normal, healthy self.

"And, how are you?" she asks.

"Tired," Merlin sighs. "So tired. But, mainly I feel relief. It... it hasn't really sunk in yet. She's gone. Truly gone."

"I know," Guinevere agrees. She had stopped sewing when Merlin came in, but her work was still in her lap. She sets it aside.

"Finally, there can be peace," Arthur quietly sighs from his place at the desk. He stands and moves to sit on the bed, over on Guinevere's side, facing Merlin. She moves her legs a bit to make room for him.

"We can stop wondering 'When?'. Stop looking over our shoulders at every turn," Guinevere says.

"Percival is still going to be your bodyguard," Arthur says, taking her hand.

"That's fine. I do not mind." She runs her free hand over her swollen stomach. "He checked in with us while you were gone," she tells Merlin.

"So did Leon and Gwaine," Arthur says. "Word is going to spread very fast. I didn't wake Gaius though."

The mention of Gaius jogs Merlin's memory, and he recalls his purpose for being here. "Did Morgana do anything to you, Gwen?" he asks, his face concerned. He moves his chair closer to the bed.

"Not much, actually," Guinevere answers. "She was waiting to kill me in front of Arthur. So he could suffer by watching me and the baby die before she killed him." She pauses, shuddering as a tear slips from her eye. "But, Morgana did not hurt me. I hit my head on the pillar when she lashed me to it. Your enchantment protected me, but I pretended to be more injured, because I didn't want to rouse suspicion. She... kissed my abdomen," she pauses, shuddering, "and slapped me."

"She slapped you?" Arthur asks, his eyebrows shooting skyward.

"She kept referring to our baby as your bastard, so... I simply pointed out that, unlike our child, she is truly a bastard – Uther's illegitimate daughter," she answers. "I was angry," she adds, seeing the shock on the faces of the two men. "I decided she wasn't going to make me cower. It was not going to be the dark tower all over again."

"That's my girl," Arthur says, smiling. He kisses her hand.

"Merlin, please go ahead," Guinevere says. Arthur moves out of the way, going around to the other side of the bed to sit close by and watch.

"Of course," Merlin answers. He moves closer still and places his hands on her abdomen. "Hmm." His brow furrows and he moves his hands. "Oh."

"Merlin?" Guinevere asks, worried.

"Huh? Oh, sorry. Everything's fine, but... Arthur, it's probably a good thing you're sitting down," Merlin says, removing his hands.

"What? Why?" Arthur asks, confused.

"Let me check again." Merlin returns his hands for another moment. "Yes."

"Merlin..." Arthur prompts, growing impatient.

"The baby is fine," Merlin says. "And, so is the other baby."

"Other baby?" Guinevere asks. Arthur leans heavily back against the headboard.

"Yes. It appears you're having twins," Merlin declares, grinning. "I couldn't discern this when I first determined you were expecting, because they were too small," he tells the queen. "But, there are definitely two little lives in there."

"I guess this explains why I'm so large," Guinevere says, staring at her stomach, slightly dazed. "Twins," she whispers. "Goodness."

"Twins," Arthur repeats, stunned. "Twins?" he asks Merlin.

"Yes, Arthur. Twins. I'll summon the midwife tomorrow, if you wish," he says.

Arthur mutely nods, and Guinevere takes his hand. "That's probably a good idea," she answers. "Arthur, don't worry," she adds, turning to her husband. "Everything will be fine."

It dawns on Merlin then that the reason for Arthur's silence is twofold. He's not only overwhelmed by the prospect of twins after three years of trying, but also worried about his wife. Worried that his children will grow up without a mother like he did. He realizes the circumstances are different, but he knows twins can make delivery difficult for the mother. "I won't let anything happen to her, Arthur. I promise."

"Thank you, Merlin," Arthur says, looking at his servant with damp eyes. "For everything. But... especially this."

xXx

"You were very brave," Arthur says later. Once the king got over his shock, Merlin left to return to Aithusa. Arthur and Guinevere are now in bed, holding each other and talking.

"It was a little easier to be brave knowing I was protected," Guinevere admits.

"You would have been just as courageous without Merlin's spell," Arthur protests, kissing her forehead. "You are a very strong woman. Plus, she was threatening our baby."

"Yes, I will grant that definitely pushed me," she allows, her hand running protectively over her stomach. "Babies," she adds, correcting him.

"Right. Babies. Plural," he smiles. "Whoa." He hugs her tightly, his arms still able to wrap around her. "Tell me, please. I know most of it, but please, tell me everything."

"Are you sure you want to hear?" Guinevere asks.

"Yes. I need to know what she did to you."

She tells him everything. Arthur holds her the whole time, listening to her talk. Once again, he is awed by his wife's bravery.

"So, the blood on your cheek was because you stabbed her?" Arthur asks, impressed. "I'm very glad you still had your dagger on your person," he adds.

"Me, too," Guinevere says. "I... I was quite surprised by my actions, to be honest. But... I had to do something. I didn't want to stand there uselessly trembling. I also couldn't let on that I was shielded by Merlin's magic, because she would have demanded to know who was protecting me."

Arthur nods thoughtfully.

"Then, when she was going on about killing our child – yes, I know, children, but we didn't know then – I knew I had to act. Not just for the safety of our children, but for the safety of all the children in Camelot. Everyone. I didn't honestly think my little dagger would kill her, but... I thought it would have at least given her pause. Weakened her. Something."

"It showed her that you are a stronger, braver woman than she expected," Arthur says, kissing her forehead. "I'm sure she was surprised."

"I think she was at first, but she recovered rather quickly. She even lauded my efforts, which was unsettling." She continues her tale, picking up where she had left off.

"Yeesh," Arthur shudders when Guinevere gets to the part where Morgana kisses her belly. "That's really... unsettling."

"It was almost worse than when she slapped me. She was taking such delight in the prospect of murdering a baby. She expressed absolute glee over the fact that he was helpless. That's something she never would have done. It was then I truly knew that the Morgana we knew and loved was gone. It was so... wrong." She looks up at Arthur. "The only way to stop this Morgana was to kill her."

"I know," Arthur softly says. "I have known since I found out about your enchantment. Our Morgana would never have done something like that to you. She loved you almost like a sister."

Guinevere nods, but does not weep. She has shed her tears for Morgana, their Morgana, and will do so no more.

"When I went down to the throne room," Arthur continues, "I knew I would find her there. I went with the intent to kill her or be killed trying. Then, when I saw you, saw you bound to the pillar and still holding your head high, proud and defiant, that only toughened my resolve."

She looks up at him, a slightly quizzical expression on her face.

"When I realized that you had let her go, that you knew she was beyond redemption, I knew, without a single doubt, I was making the correct decision," he explains, kissing her. "As I said, I was heading into the throne room intending to kill her. But, there was still a tiny part of me that wondered if I was acting rashly. Wondered if I was letting my emotions over what she had done to you rule me."

"Arthur," Guinevere says, scooting up slightly so she is half-sitting, looking down at him, "you did the right thing. I wasn't the only victim of Morgana's cruelty. Merlin, the Seward family, Gaius, Kara... Uther... and several of your knights, including Gwaine and Percival, were captives of hers. Countless of innocent citizens were injured or killed during both of her attacks. And, while she didn't do anything directly to you, everything she did greatly affected you, your people, and this kingdom. Need I continue?"

Arthur shakes his head, his hand straying over her swollen belly, which is resting slightly on his stomach. "She would never have stopped until she was on the throne," Arthur nods. "She would have turned Camelot into a dark and dangerous place."

"Certainly not a place for children," Guinevere adds, placing her hand over Arthur's. They feel a small kick beneath their hands, and smile at one another. Guinevere leans down and kisses him.

"Indeed not," Arthur agrees, kissing her in return. He eases her back down onto the pillows, his lips caressing hers. "You're all right then?" he softly asks, nuzzling her nose with his.

"Yes, Arthur, I'm all right," she answers, stroking his face and kissing him, her hand roving down his back as he deepens the kiss.

xXx

"How is Aithusa?" Guinevere asks Merlin the next morning when he arrives with breakfast. It is his only duty for the day. Arthur had asked Merlin to bring a hearty breakfast, but followed this request with another word of thanks and an order to take the remainder of the day off.

"A lot better, thank you," Merlin says, sliding the queen's chair in for her. "We both slept, so that's a good thing."

"Please, sit," Arthur indicates one of the vacant chairs.

"Arthur?" Merlin asks, confused.

"I have questions," the king declares. "Questions I believe only you will be able to answer." He pauses. "At least, I hope so."

"Oh. Questions," Merlin repeats, nodding. "Things about magic then?"

"Possibly," Arthur answers. "I'm not sure." He takes a drink, pops a grape into his mouth, and asks, "Who is Emrys?"

Ah. That. Morgana must have mentioned him. "I am," Merlin simply answers. "That is what the Druids call me."

"Why?"

"You know, I'm not sure," Merlin says. "They just do. Kilgarrah said something once about..." he furrows his brows, trying to remember, "something about my having many names, and 'Emrys' is one. In fact, the first person to address me as Emrys was Mordred, when he initially came here, all those years ago." He quirks his head slightly. "Hmm. I had forgotten about that. But, it's in prophecies and things the Druids know, I guess," he says, waving his hand casually.

"You're mentioned in prophecies?" Guinevere asks.

He nods, realizing that while he is quite used to these kinds of things, his king and queen are not. "So is Arthur. Probably you, too, Gwen. Oh, by the way, Arthur, that other prophecy is gone. I asked Kilgarrah last night. We were right, Kara was Mordred's test."

"Well, that's good news," Arthur says, exhaling. He smiles over at Guinevere, relieved. She looks equally reassured by this report.

"Morgana mentioned the name Emrys?" Merlin asks.

"Just before she died, yes. She said something about Emrys and how he was supposed to be her doom, not me. She knew I wasn't him," Arthur says.

"Well, I still was her doom," Merlin says. "As you stated yesterday, you wouldn't have that sword if it wasn't for me," he says, pointing over to where Arthur's blade, now clean, is resting.

"I wouldn't have a lot of things if it wasn't for you, including my life and my queen," Arthur elaborates. "How many times have you saved my life?"

"I've lost count," Merlin answers, chuckling slightly. "It's... more than ten, if I had to guess."

"Humph," Arthur scowls. "Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful, very, but... it just calls into question every battle I've won, that's all."

"Arthur," Merlin says, "if it helps, most of those times were because you were up against dark magic and you couldn't have won. Magic can only be fought with magic."

"That does help," Arthur says, nodding slowly. "But, it does lead me to my second question."

"Which is?" Merlin asks.

"The old sorcerer. You know, the strange old man. Do you know him?" Arthur asks.

Merlin hesitates a moment before answering, knowing this question was going to come up at some point. "Yes," he says. Honestly, I'm glad we're getting this out. I have been trying to find a way to tell him.

"Turns out he didn't kill my father," Arthur says. "Morgana told me. She had Agravaine put some sort of enchanted amulet around Father's neck that—"

"Reversed the spell and caused it to have the opposite of the intended effect," Merlin says. "I know."

"You know? Why didn't you tell me?" Arthur asks, shocked.

"The same reason he couldn't tell you many things, Love," Guinevere quietly says, putting her hand over his. "No way to offer proof without giving himself away."

"True, and... well, he's me," Merlin admits with a heavy sigh.

"Wait, what do you mean, he's you?" Arthur asks.

"Just as I said. Dragoon the Great is me. I use an aging spell, and..."

"Merlin..." Guinevere says, at a loss for words.

"That old man has been a thorn in my backside since..." Arthur says, growing agitated.

"Since Uther thought Gwen enchanted you with a love spell?" Merlin calmly asks, refusing to let the king's ire rattle him. "You remember, when I took the blame for the false poultice Morgana planted, framing Gwen? Or was it since I tried to save your father, who had been nothing but disdainful at best to both myself and Gwen?" He finds himself getting agitated now as well, and continues, his voice rising slightly, his words coming faster. "Or when I had to go to Morgana's hovel and destroy the Fomorrah she put in my neck that forced me to try to kill you? Oh, or was it when I risked my life sneaking into the castle to bind Morgana's magic when she and Helios attacked? Or—"

Arthur holds up his hands, surrendering, and Merlin becomes quiet.

"I'm sorry, Merlin," Arthur humbly says.

"I also used the aging spell when I visited the Dochraid to find out how to lift Gwen's enchantment," Merlin adds quietly. "That was the last time."

"I had no idea. I thought he was just a slightly insane old man who liked to insult me," Arthur says.

"Perks of being a mad old wizard. One can get away with a surprising amount," Merlin shrugs.

Arthur snorts a small laugh, then falls silent, pondering everything. He leans forward. "You were willing to be burned at the stake in Guinevere's place," he says, his voice hushed.

Merlin nods, but then the corner of his mouth quirks up a little. "I would have gotten out of it somehow," he says.

"Merlin..." Guinevere says, touched. "Why?"

"Why what? Why would I take the blame for something with which Morgana was framing you?" He makes a slight shrug again. "Because Morgana's plan would have succeeded if you had been killed, Gwen. She was trying to break Arthur. She knew you held his heart even then, and if she could destroy or kill you, she knew destroying Arthur would be so much easier. She would have attacked while he was at his weakest. I couldn't let it happen." He looks at his two friends. "My duty is to serve you. To do whatever I must to aid Arthur. At that time, my aim was to make sure he lived long enough to become king."

"She used me so much," Guinevere sighs. "I cannot believe I ever had feelings of friendship towards her."

"She fooled all of us," Merlin says. "Even me, for a while."

"Me, most of all," Arthur adds. "I feel like I keep saying this, but, thank you, Merlin. Is there anything else you need to tell me?"

"I don't think so..."

"When are you going to tell me about how you got my sword out of the lake? You said it involved a girl," Arthur suggests.

"Oh. Um, yes. That. She died," Merlin says quietly. "She had magic, was cursed, and, well, you actually killed her."

"I did? Oh, no," Arthur responds, genuinely concerned.

"It's all right," Merlin says. "As I said, she was cursed. Transformed into a beast during the night, a great, black winged cat. If you hadn't killed her, someone else would have."

"I'm sorry, Merlin. I remember that creature, and I am truly sorry," Arthur says. He stares off into the distance. "So many things are sliding into place now," he quietly murmurs. "All these things which didn't make sense before... suddenly, they do. I was... blind."

"You weren't so blind, Arthur," Merlin says. "But, now you know I really can keep a secret. Quite well, in fact."

"This girl," Guinevere gently asks, "did you love her?"

Merlin looks at her. "We did not have enough time. But, I think I could have. And would have. She was beautiful and sweet. Timid, because of her curse. She could not help what she was, and hated the things she did in her beast form."

"I'm so sorry, Merlin," Guinevere says, dabbing her eyes.

"It's all right, Gwen," Merlin replies, reaching over and squeezing her hand. "I know she finally is at peace, and this knowledge gives me comfort."

Guinevere smiles at him and squeezes his hand in return.

"Merlin," Arthur asks, pushing his plate aside, "when were you trying to kill me? What kept you from succeeding?"

Merlin exchanges a glance with Guinevere across the table. He sighs heavily. "Well, let me just say that your good, kind, gentle wife could teach you a thing or two about how to properly wield a pitcher as a weapon," he says, nodding at the metal water jug on the table.

Chapter Text

Winter has settled over Camelot, but the hearts of the people were not cold at all. News of the Lady Morgana's death spread faster than that of Queen Guinevere's pregnancy months earlier.

In light of this event, the first decrees King Arthur made were to erect a memorial in the town square and declare an annual day of remembrance to honor the victims of both the Great Purge and Morgana's reign of terror. The memorial is a large stone pillar with holes carved in it for people to place flowers, ribbons, or other mementos. Since it is winter, the spaces are filled with ribbons and small trinkets. There are even a few small pieces of jewelry. People respect the items offered there and no one takes them. Guinevere expects it will be a pillar of flowers come spring.

Queen Guinevere has been ordered to stay off her feet as much as possible, thus she missed the first ceremony of the remembrance. Through Arthur, she sent their people a message of empathy, courage, and hope. When the king returned to their chambers that evening, he brought more gifts from their faithful subjects which the queen received with her customary gratitude and humility. Nearly eight months along carrying twins, Guinevere is quite uncomfortable most of the time and is only too happy to either stay in bed or on the upholstered bench Arthur had brought in for her.

However, today she is in the throne room with her husband, seated on her throne surrounded by pillows, her feet elevated on a low, cushioned footstool. Percival hovers nearby, with the midwife close at hand as well.

Today is an important day. Today is the day magic will no longer be banned in Camelot.

"Magic has been a blight on this land for decades," Arthur speaks, standing in front of his throne. His voice is clear and rings out through the crowded room. "People fear it. People who use it are feared and treated as criminals. Magic has brought misfortune to Camelot in many forms. Dragons. Witches. Plagues." There is a general murmuring of agreement from the crowd. Arthur raises his hand and the murmurs die away. "The ban on magic was decreed by my father nearly 30 years ago. These have been dark years for people with magic. Those who practice magic are forced to hide and live in fear. They are shunned, looked upon as evildoers. My father truly believed magic was evil. That no good could come from it. I stand before you this day to tell you that my father was wrong."

A collective gasp sounds from the crowd. Some are shocked and scandalized that Arthur would denounce his father in such a way. Others are shocked and elated that Arthur would denounce his father in such a way.

"My father's prohibition of magic was based on fear and ignorance," Arthur continues. "He was wrong to outlaw it. He was wrong to persecute and kill people for no other cause than they practiced magic. It is for those reasons that I hereby lift the ban on magic in Camelot."

Motion catches Arthur's eye and he sees a few people walk out in silent protest. He notes the individuals, and is not surprised to see who the dissenters are: Council members who spoke up in favor of upholding Uther's laws at the meeting two days ago. Thankfully, no one follows.

"A wise man once told me that magic is not inherently evil. It is a tool no more evil than a hammer or a saw. A hammer or a saw can be used as a weapon if wielded by someone with malicious intent... yet those things are not outlawed." The crowd is quiet again. Arthur finds Gaius' face in the gathering and nods respectfully to the older man. Gaius lifts his chin in acknowledgement, smiling slightly with Merlin's mother, Hunith, standing at his side. "Despite my father's ban, magic has existed here in Camelot. Hiding out of necessity. Magic has saved this kingdom on numerous occasions. It has saved my life more times than I know. It has saved the queen's life; it has saved all of your lives," he declares. He looks over at Merlin, half-hidden in the shadows. He is dressed in new finery and gripping his wizard's staff so tightly his knuckles have gone white. He finds his mother's face in the crowd, looking for reassurance, and finds it in her kind eyes. He's never seen her looking so proud.

Arthur nods, and Merlin steps out, attempting to look solemn and stately, but still humble and benign. The last thing I need is to scare anyone. He glances at Guinevere, who gives him an encouraging smile.

"Most of you know my manservant, Merlin. His deeds in service to me and this kingdom rank with the bravest of the Knights of Camelot, even surpassing them. None of us would be standing here this day if it weren't for Merlin. It was his magic that has saved this kingdom each time Morgana attacked."

More gasps from the crowd, accompanied by a few hushed sounds of disbelief. Posted at the front right corner of the room, Leon takes the slightest step forward, making his presence known should anyone decide to do anything foolish. Gwaine follows suit from the left.

"Camelot has had a very powerful wizard as her secret ally for many years," Arthur explains. "His gifts shall remain secret no longer, and he will continue to serve Camelot and aid me in restoring magic to this kingdom. Merlin shall henceforth be known as Lord Merlin, Court Sorcerer, and will be my chief advisor on magical affairs."

The crowd is silent, but they look interested. Curious. Arthur scans the faces and sees significantly more smiles than frowns. It bolsters him and he relaxes a little. Knots he didn't realize were in his stomach loosen, and he looks back at Guinevere, further encouraged by the pleased smile on her face.

Then, Gwaine begins to applaud. Loudly. Pointedly. Mordred joins in immediately, followed closely by Gaius and Hunith. Percival. Guinevere. Once Leon begins, the rest of the knights follow his cue and join in as well, and soon the majority of the crowd is applauding Merlin, thanking him for his acts and congratulating him on his new position.

Merlin's face reddens with embarrassment, and he looks down for a moment, then over at Arthur, who smiling at him like a proud brother. He gives the sorcerer a nod and Merlin squares his shoulders, standing as nobly as he dares while trying not to let the threatening tears fall.

"It pleases me to hear your acceptance of my new advisor," Arthur says, holding his hands up. "Lord Merlin will be responsible for ensuring that magic is used wisely and for the good of the people," he explains. "His duties will include advising Queen Guinevere and me on affairs regarding magic, good and bad; investigating those who misuse magic or practice dark magic, and liaising with the Druid community and other magic users." He pauses. "Oh, and any... magical creatures that happen along will be his responsibility as well," he adds, almost as an afterthought. "The standard laws already in place will now apply to magic use. If you harm or kill another person using magic, you will be treated the same as a person who has harmed or killed another person using a sword or any other... means," he says, carefully avoiding the word "weapon". He looks out over the crowd, now rapt. "As I have stated, magic is no more than a tool, and will be viewed in the eyes of this kingdom as such. The only difference is if a crime is committed using magic, the person responsible will answer first to Merlin, then to the queen and me.

As Arthur turns back to the crowd, the proceedings are interrupted by a sound at the door. Three people appear, striding forward as a few guards jog after, trying to stop them. Arthur furrows his brows and is about to gesture to Leon when a voice stops him.

"No." It's Merlin's voice, beside him. "I know this man. It's all right. Let him approach."

Arthur looks away from Leon and holds up his hand, staying the guards. He watches as a strange bald man in flowing robes strides forward, followed by an older woman and a young man who looks slightly familiar.

He continues watching as the bald man steps up and kneels before Merlin, his companions following suit.

"Lord Merlin," the man says, his voice bearing an unusual accent, "I come on this momentous day to pledge my loyalty and my magic to you, Great Emrys. My two disciples and I would be honored if you would count us among your ranks of those helping to keep magic pure and good in this land."

Merlin smiles broadly at the man and walks down the few steps from the dais to stand before him. The man rises, and Merlin embraces him like an old comrade. "Alator," he says, "you are most welcome in Camelot, friend. It is I who am honored." He releases Alator and looks at the other two. "Gilli!" he exclaims, surprised and delighted to see the young man has found such a worthy mentor. He moves to hug the young sorcerer. "I am so pleased to see you again."

Gilli smiles. "Your words have always stayed in my heart, Merlin. Thank you. This is Finna. She introduced me to Alator."

Merlin smiles at Finna and warmly clasps her hand. "Welcome, Finna." Then, he turns to Arthur and Guinevere. "My lord, my lady, may I present Alator of the Catha and his apprentices, Gilli and Finna."

Alator, Gilli, and Finna step in front of the king and queen and kneel before them.

"We pledge our loyalties to you, great sovereigns, and to Camelot. May she ever flourish under your reign and the reigns of your descendants," Alator says.

"Thank you, Alator," Arthur answers, smiling kindly though he is a little bewildered. I made the decree only minutes ago. "You are all welcome within our borders." Guinevere nods in agreement, smiling graciously at their visitors from her throne.

"I am honored to meet you, brave King Arthur and wise Queen Guinevere," Alator replies. "This is truly a great day. It was written that you would restore magic to these lands, and I am pleased to have lived to see it come to pass."

"So am I," Arthur says, chuckling a little. "Welcome, friends."

As Alator, Finna, and Gilli step aside and join the crowd, Mordred steps forward and kneels before Merlin just as the other three had done.

"Merlin... Lord Merlin," he corrects himself, "please accept my magic and my sword to aid you in your task. I pledge my loyalty to you as a Knight of Camelot, a Druid, and a sorcerer." There are some surprised murmurings from the people in attendance.

"Thank you, Mordred," Merlin says. That really wasn't necessary, you know, he adds, for Mordred only.

I know, Mordred replies, smiling a little as he rises. He moves to stand behind and a little to the side of Merlin, asserting his position as the Court Sorcerer's right-hand man and sword.

As soon as Mordred is in place, two more knights break rank and step forward. The first is Sir Edwin, the knight who Merlin sent to retrieve Leon on the night of Arthur's assassination attempt. The second is Sir Brannock.

Leon looks very surprised. Edwin and Brannock each look surprised to see the other. The two knights do not kneel before Merlin as the others, though they bow their heads respectfully.

"Lord Merlin, I offer you my sword and wish to make it known that I, too, have magic and pledge to use it for the good of the kingdom," Sir Edwin says.

"Yes... as do I," Sir Brannock, a man of fewer words than Percival, adds.

"Thank you, sirs," Merlin nods, smiling, a little overwhelmed.

See? That's why I stepped forward, Mordred's voice lightly gloats inside Merlin's head. I knew there would be more. There would have to be.

The two knights return to their places and Kara shyly steps forward, no doubt encouraged by Mordred. She is followed closely by Avery, one of the kitchen maids. Leon's eyebrows lift as he recognizes the girl as the one who chastised Daisy for gossiping about the queen's difficulty in conceiving.

The two young women kneel before Merlin and he welcomes them. They fall back into the crowd.

Arthur looks over the masses of people before him, wondering who the next person to step forward will be. Strangely, Finna moves to the bottom of the stairs, but instead of walking over to Merlin, she stands before Arthur, wringing her hands.

"Finna, you wish to address me?" Arthur asks, curious.

Suddenly, Merlin is at his elbow. "I believe she needs to speak privately to you, my lord," he quietly says, watching Finna's face even as he speaks to his king. Finna nods, and Arthur steps down to meet her. He leans down to hear what she has to say, listening closely, then looks up at Guinevere, who is shifting uncomfortably on her throne.

His eyes widen. "Yes, of course," he whispers, and Finna quickly steps up to crouch beside the queen. Mildred immediately hurries over, as does Percival.

Arthur follows, watching the two older women speak to his wife in hushed tones, waiting for signs of confirmation. Mildred looks up at him. "It's time, Sire," she says, just loud enough for him to hear.

"It's too early," he answers, still unable to believe it.

"The queen carries twins, Sire. They often arrive early," Finna adds.

"Yes... right..." Arthur answers, willing himself to stay calm and collected. He finds Leon in the crowd and waves him forward. "We need to go," he tells his First Knight.

"Already?" Leon exclaims quietly. The crowd behind him is getting noisier as they guess what is happening. "Go. I'll dismiss the crowd."

"Thank you," Arthur says. He leans in close. "I honestly don't remember what my final words were anyway."

Leon smiles, clapping the king on the shoulder. "Understood. I'll make sure the proclamations are made as well."

"Thank you," Arthur absently answers, seeing Guinevere beginning to stand. Arthur hurries over to assist Percival in guiding her to her feet. Finna curtseys and steps back, rejoining Alator and Gilli.

Merlin sees more movement and notices Gaius walking forward, urging a somewhat reluctant-looking Hunith to accompany him. He catches his mother's eye and nods, smiling, letting her know she is welcome.

"Come, come, let's get you upstairs now, my lady," Mildred says, taking charge. While making their way to the doors, they hear Leon calling for silence.

"Thank you all..." he starts, but stops again, realizing he won't have anyone's attention until the queen has left the room. All eyes are on her.

As the royal entourage reaches the doors at the front of the room, behind the thrones, Queen Guinevere sags. "Stop... I need to rest," she says, bending slightly forward as her discomfort grows. "Oh..." she exclaims lightly as she feels a sudden warm dampness between her legs. It's not a gush, just an unusual wetness. "I think my waters have broken," she whispers to Mildred. The midwife nods and pats Guinevere's hand, then looks at Arthur and Percival.

"My lord?" Percival asks, looking down at Guinevere. "Shall I...?"

Arthur looks at Mildred. The midwife nods. "It is starting in earnest now," she says.

He softly strokes his wife's cheek. "Guinevere, would you like Percival to carry you, Love? I think it would be a good idea."

"I would like you to carry me, Arthur," she says, her voice slightly breathy, "but I don't think your arms will reach."

Mildred chuckles, but everyone else is too anxious. Arthur kisses her, then Percival leans down and easily lifts the queen into his arms, gentle as a lamb. She drops her head on his shoulder.

"If I'm this tired already..." she sighs.

"You'll be fine, dear," Mildred reassures her. "You are stronger than any noblewoman I've attended. And, I'm not saying that merely because you're the queen."

"Right. She's strong because she was a servant," Merlin chimes in from behind them. Gaius and Hunith are with him, and Mrs. Seward has joined them as well, bringing up the rear with Ella. Two weeks ago, Guinevere had asked the older woman if she would consider being the babies' nursemaid and she immediately agreed.

The group moves faster now, Percival demonstrating remarkable grace for a man his size as he is able to walk quickly without jostling the queen. As they approach the royal chambers, she reaches out and grasps his massive arm, gripping it tightly as a contraction comes. It passes quickly and she gives Arthur a reassuring, but weak, smile.

"Guinevere," Arthur says, stopping them right at the doors. He knows once she goes through those doors he won't see her again until after their babies have been brought into the world. He's not allowed to be there with her, no matter how much he may want to hold her hand, mop her brow, or do whatever he can to be a help and comfort to her.

He'll be in the corridor. Waiting. On the other side of a locked door.

Percival turns and Arthur steps up, caressing the queen's cheek again. The large knight looks up and away in an attempt to disappear.

"Arthur, it'll be fine," Guinevere whispers, lifting her head from Percival's shoulder. "Babies are born every day," she adds, holding her hand out to him.

He takes it and presses it to his lips, kissing her knuckles, her fingers, her palm. "I..." he breaks off, the words not there.

"I know, Arthur," she answers. "I know." He leans forward and kisses her, still clutching her hand, grateful she understands him so well. "With all my heart," she whispers, smiling bravely.

"With all my heart," he replies, his whisper so faint she can barely hear him.

She tenses, squeezing his hand hard, wincing as her pain increases, and Mildred finally intervenes. "My lord..." she gently says, stepping forward. His expression bereft, Arthur gives his wife one more kiss, then releases her hand. Mildred ushers Percival inside, and Arthur and Merlin follow, stopping just inside the doors. They watch as Percival gently places Guinevere on the bed. She squeezes his hand, thanks him, and he quickly makes his way back to the doors, surreptitiously wiping his eyes as he walks.

When he sees that Arthur and Merlin are in a similar state, he drops his hand and just nods at them as he passes.

Mildred gives them a look, but Gaius is already pulling them out of the room. Mrs. Seward and Ella are already bustling about, helping the midwife prepare. Hunith starts to make her way out with the men, but Guinevere's voice beckons her back.

"Hunith... please, stay..." she calls, her voice weak, but audible.

Hunith looks at the king, uncertain. Arthur nods, echoing his wife. "Please, Hunith. Guinevere wants you."

Merlin adds, "Go, Mum. She needs a mother right now. I'm going to have my hands full with Arthur, anyway," he says, bending to kiss her cheek. She gives both Merlin and Arthur an encouraging smile as she closes the door between them.

They hear the bolt slide into position and Arthur places his palm flat on the wood. A moment later, he feels the reassuring weight of Merlin's hand on his shoulder.

xXx

Arthur has never been so anxious. He's faced countless foes: human, animal, and otherworldly, but nothing compares to the feeling of helpless fear gripping him as he waits, trapped in a corridor, separated from his wife while she brings their babies into the world.

Merlin keeps close to the door, listening with magical ears now and then, attempting to keep Arthur placated with what updates he can provide. Unfortunately, there is little actual conversation taking place inside the room, so he's not able to be much help.

Percival stands guard at the end of the corridor, keeping the bustle of the castle away from the king. At one point a Council member marched up, intending to have Words with the king over his proclamation. He was quite incensed to be stopped by Sir Percival.

"I'm sorry, Lord Caldwell, but you cannot speak to the king," Percival says, holding his arm out, blocking the older man's path.

"Whatever for? He's right there!" Caldwell blusters.

Percival narrows his eyes, realizing Caldwell must have been amongst those who walked out earlier during the ceremony. "Ah, you are unaware that the queen is delivering the royal infant," he says. He knows Guinevere is having twins, but is not sure if it is common knowledge, so he speaks carefully.

"Wha—? Oh. But, surely... he's not doing anything right now then..." Caldwell tries, gesturing towards Arthur, who is clearly in no state to be discussing anything with anyone.

"Lord Caldwell, I suggest you place yourself out of my reach as soon as possible," Percival quietly says. Caldwell takes a step back, his bushy gray eyebrows raised in surprise. He opens his mouth to protest this treatment, but Percival continues before he can begin. "If you have an issue with the king's proclamations, I suggest you wait until a more appropriate time to discuss your reservations with him. Or, if you feel you must be heard immediately, I'm sure Sir Leon will be happy to hear your concerns in the king's stead," he recommends, knowing full well the emotion Leon will be feeling is nowhere near happiness. Percival almost laughs when he thinks about the possible retribution to which the First Knight of Camelot may subject him in payment for steering this odious man in his direction.

Caldwell huffs, irritated. "Fine," he snaps, turning on his heel.

"All right there, Percival?" Merlin calls. I think that's the most I've ever heard him say at one time.

"Yeah," Percival answers. "Any progress? How is the queen?"

"From the sounds I can hear, she seems to be doing well," Merlin answers.

"And, how is the king?" he asks, noting Arthur has stopped pacing to stand with his forehead against the doors.

Merlin looks pointedly at Arthur and shrugs as if to say, "Well, you see him." He places a reassuring hand on the king's shoulder and leans towards the doors to listen again. He hears a long groan from Guinevere followed by the sounds of a baby crying a few moments later. Arthur jumps backward, startled, and Merlin catches him, smiling. "Sounds like Baby Number One has joined us," he calls to Percival.

"I can hear," Percival nods, a grin splitting his face.

Ten minutes later, they hear the cries of the second baby.

xXx

"They're beautiful. Amazing," Arthur quietly says, sitting on the bed beside Guinevere, gazing down at his sons. He's got one in each arm, holding them quite adeptly for a new father. He looks over at his wife. "You're beautiful and amazing," he says, leaning over to kiss her.

"I'm sweaty and tired, but thank you," she answers, smiling at him.

"You're... well? No troubles?" he quietly asks, worry etched on his face. Mildred had assured him that everything went perfectly, but he needs to hear it from his wife.

"Yes, Arthur. I'm quite sore, and will be for a few days, but that's completely normal," she reassures him. She reaches up and strokes his cheek, and he leans his face into her palm, kissing it.

"I know it's irrational... but I can't help thinking about my mother," Arthur sighs.

Guinevere leans over and kisses him. "I know, Love. But, I'm fine. Truly. Gaius, Mildred, and Merlin are all willing to confirm this if it will set your heart at ease."

Arthur looks up to see Mildred, Hunith, Mrs. Seward, and Ella putter around the room, cleaning things up, careful to stay out of the king and queen's way so they can have a few private moments together with their babies.

Arthur smiles at his wife. "Thank you," he says.

"They're so tiny," Arthur comments, looking back down at his newborn sons.

"Well, there were two of them in limited space, and they are early," Guinevere comments, reaching for her first born, who has started to squirm and fuss a bit. Mildred said they will not be identical and the older boy is slightly bigger, but they look so much alike that she made sure to wrap them in different colored blankets. The queen adjusts her son's red blanket, making sure he's snug and cozy.

"True," Arthur allows, reaching down for his younger son's hand, which has worked its way out of his dark purple blanket. The infant grasps his father's thumb reflexively, and Arthur smiles.

Guinevere's red bundle continues to fuss, so she calls to the midwife. "Mildred, I think he's hungry," she says.

"My lady, are you sure you won't reconsider? It's going to be even more challenging with two," Mildred says, hurrying over.

Guinevere sighs, expecting this conversation. "Yes, I know," she answers. You've told me three times now. "I will use a wet nurse when necessity calls for it, but I would like to nurse my sons," she reiterates. "I would like to at least try."

Mildred nods, but glances at Arthur, wondering about the king's opinion on this matter. Arthur looks up from his son and simply says, "It is what the queen wants," indicating his agreement with his wife.

"As you wish, my lady," Mildred says, and goes on to assist Guinevere, showing her what to do. As soon as the baby gets the idea and is happily nursing away, his brother decides to join in, latching hungrily onto their mother's other breast.

"When they have finished, Gaius will want to see them. I will be back tomorrow to check on you, my lady," Mildred says. The king and queen thank her. She nods and walks away to gather her things.

Once the princes have been fed and burped, Gaius is allowed in, Merlin is right behind him. Guinevere spies Percival, Leon, Gwaine, and Mordred peeking in from the corridor. She is touched by their excitement, but isn't sure she wants a crowd in the room right now. She glances at Arthur and he whispers, "They can wait."

"All fed?" Gaius asks, looking down at the now-slumbering babies. "Goodness, they look alike," he comments.

"They are very handsome," Merlin says, leaning against one of the posts at the foot of the bed. Hunith comes up and wraps her arm around his waist. "Must take after their mother," he adds. Arthur is too happy to even pretend to take offense, and laughs with him.

"Have you decided on names?" Gaius asks. "Geoffrey will need to be told so he can add them to the books."

"And, we need to know what to call them," Merlin adds. "I think 'Merlin' has a nice ring to it."

"Merlin, behave yourself," Hunith says, trying not to laugh.

Guinevere hands the red bundle to Gaius. "This is Prince Llacheu Thomas, older by ten minutes," she says, giving the names she and Arthur had chosen for boys. Merlin had offered to tell them if they were having boys or girls or one of each, but they declined.

Arthur holds up his second son. "Prince Gwydre Elyan," he declares, kissing the boy's head.

"Excellent names," Gaius declares, tactfully saying nothing about the fact that the name "Uther" is conspicuously absent while Guinevere's father and brother are both honored. He sets about examining Llacheu.

"Thank you," Guinevere says, taking Gwydre from Arthur, who pouts slightly, but acquiesces, suddenly realizing how much he enjoys seeing his wife cuddling their son. Guinevere leans down and kisses the baby's forehead, smoothing his wispy dark brown curls. He opens his eyes, but closes them after a moment. Guinevere stares, then shakes her head.

"Guinevere?" Arthur asks.

"Hmm?"

"Is everything all right?"

"Oh, yes. He just opened his eyes for a moment. They're very blue," she says. "And… I…"

"That may change," Gaius declares, inadvertently interrupting the queen. "Ah," he exclaims. "Prince Llacheu's eyes are blue as well, but dark blue. He had just opened them and I happened to be looking at the right time," he looks up, grinning.

"Oh, Gaius, you old softie," Hunith says, smiling at him.

"I cannot help feeling a bit grandfatherly towards them," he comments, wrapping Llacheu in his blanket again before handing him to the king.

"Great-grandfatherly," Merlin mutters, earning him a pinch from his mother and a raised eyebrow from Gaius.

Gaius examines Gwydre next, who seems to wiggle less than his brother. He declares them both healthy and reassures Arthur that he should not be concerned about their small size. He starts to hand the younger prince back to the queen, but she stops him. "Hunith, would you like to hold him? Mrs. Seward?" She cranes her neck, looking for the older woman, who has been staying discreetly in the background, waiting to be called.

Guinevere nods at Gaius, and he hands Gwydre to Hunith, who, not surprisingly, scoops him up like an experienced grandmother. Mrs. Seward comes over and Arthur passes her Llacheu. "Please, call me Gelda," she says to the queen. "Oh, he's a darling!" she exclaims. "Look at his curls..."

The two older women cluck and coo over the babies, gradually drifting together to compare notes. Guinevere watches with interest, then looks at her husband. "Arthur, do you think Hunith...?"

"Never know unless we ask," he answers, clearly having the same thought. "Merlin," he calls, and Merlin comes closer. "Do you think—"

"Merlin!" Hunith exclaims, interrupting Arthur. "Forgive me, Sire," she stammers, obviously flustered by something.

"Is something wrong?" Guinevere asks, alarmed.

"No... well... I don't..." she starts. "He's fine, yes. But, I think I just saw something."

Guinevere sits up straighter, wincing with the movement. "In his eyes?" she cautiously asks.

"You saw it, too?" Hunith asks.

"I'm not sure."

"What did you see?" Arthur asks, growing frustrated.

Guinevere looks at her husband and starts to explain, "I am not certain, but I thought Gwydre's…"

"I think I might know," Merlin says, walking over to his mother. She hands him the baby. He leans down, presses his lips to the prince's forehead, and closes his eyes. When he lifts his head, his eyes are open wide with surprise. "This child has magic."

No one knows what to say. Arthur leans back against the headboard, stunned. Guinevere stares at the purple bundle in Merlin's arms, a slow smile spreading across her face. Hunith has her hands over her mouth. Gaius has his eyes on the king, watching his reaction, and Gelda pointedly busies herself with Llacheu.

"Did you see it this soon in Merlin?" Guinevere softly asks Hunith. Arthur reaches for her hand and she takes it, clasping it between both of hers.

She nods. "It was like... being transported back in time," she answers. "I was talking softly to the prince, telling him how handsome and special he is. He opened his eyes and I saw a flash of gold... then I felt a... a familiar wave of... trust. Peace. Warmth." She looks at Guinevere, her eyes brimming with tears.

Guinevere nods. "Yes. I... I wasn't sure if I saw the gold in his eyes or just imagined it," she says. "And I felt that wave too, but I simply attributed it to being his mother."

"He doesn't realize he's doing it right now," Merlin says. "It's... instinctive. It just comes out."

"Merlin did that?" Guinevere asks.

Hunith nods again. "Within minutes of being born."

"Lord Merlin, would you like to check Prince Llacheu?" Gelda quietly asks.

"Oh, yes, probably should do, shouldn't I?" Merlin says. He passes Gwydre to Arthur, muttering, "Here, maybe he'll do it for you."

"I hope so," Arthur answers, eagerly receiving his son from the sorcerer.

Merlin smiles and receives Llacheu. He repeats the same test, kissing the prince's forehead. "The future king does not have magic. But, he will be a great warrior," Merlin says. He holds the boy up a little, looking at his face. "You are definitely going to be a handful," he chuckles. Llacheu squirms and Merlin passes him to Guinevere.

"Hunith," Guinevere asks, cuddling Llacheu, "will you stay? Here, in Camelot? I daresay Gelda would welcome the assistance with the princes." She looks at Gelda, hoping she hasn't offended the sweet woman, but notices she looks relieved to have help, considering the recent discovery.

A broad smile splits Hunith's face and she rushes to Guinevere's side, clasping her hand. "Oh, I was hoping you would ask, Gwen – I mean, my lady!" she exclaims, forgetting propriety in the light of her joy. "I would love to stay."

"She certainly has experience raising a baby with magic," Gaius says, smiling at Merlin, who is overjoyed to learn his mother will be close by.

"Thank you, Hunith," Arthur says. "We'll send a small party to Ealdor in the morning to retrieve your possessions. Merlin, you can—"

"Yes, I'll find her a room nearby. The one next to Mrs. Seward's is free. It'll be convenient," Merlin interrupts. "Is that all right, Mum?"

"Yes, yes, of course," Hunith says. "Thank you, my lord, my lady. I cannot say how much this means to me to live closer to my son and have the opportunity to look after a little one in my old age."

"Mum, you're not that old," Merlin says.

"Well, you certainly seem to be in no hurry to—" Hunith says, turning to her son.

"Oh, goodness, The Four are still waiting outside!" Guinevere exclaims. Merlin gives her a grateful smile.

"I'll let them in," Gaius says with a slight bow. "I have potions that need tending."

As Gaius walks to the doors, Arthur gasps softly.

"Did he do it?" Guinevere asks, looking over.

Arthur is gazing down at Gwydre with a look of love on his face that makes the queen's heart melt. He nods, unable to take his eyes off his son. "Do it again," he prompts, but Gwydre only scrunches his body and stretches his hand out of his blanket.

"His little hand does not want to stay tucked in," Guinevere says. Llacheu starts fussing again and she looks down and sees his hand is out, too. On a whim, she moves him closer to his brother, and when Gwydre grabs Llacheu's hand, the older twin calms down, settling into his blanket, content.

"Whoa," Arthur says.

"What's this about two future Knights of Camelot?" Leon softly calls as the four men enter the room, eager to see the princes.

"They're tiny," Percival observes. "How are you feeling, my lady?"

"I'm just fine, Percival, thank you," she answers.

"Good looking chaps," Gwaine observes. "Must take after their mo—"

"Merlin already made that joke, Gwaine, try again," Arthur says, snorting a laugh.

"They're holding hands?" Mordred quietly asks, puzzling over them.

"Which is which?" Leon asks.

"Llacheu Thomas," Arthur places his hand on the red bundle, then the purple, "and Gwydre Elyan."

Guinevere looks up at the four knights and sees their wistful smiles as they remember their fallen brother. "Gwydre has magic," she adds.

Leon, Percival, and Gwaine gasp. Mordred's eyes widen. "Truly?"

Merlin nods. "He does. It's brilliant. I'm really excited."

"That's amazing," Mordred says.

The knights stay a short time, none of them brave enough to hold the princes yet. Gwaine winks at Hunith when they leave, and she proves to be just as immune to his charms as Guinevere was and continues to be. Instead of blushing and simpering, Hunith simply looks at him and says, "I'm old enough to be your mother, young man."

Once they are alone, just Arthur, Guinevere, and the two tiny princes, the royal family all huddle together on the bed. The king and queen look down at their sons, now sleeping peacefully, side by side.

"Two sides of the same coin," Arthur mutters.

"What was that?" Guinevere asks.

"Something Gaius said once. About Merlin and me. We are two sides of the same coin."

"Oh, I see," she says. "These two are similar, aren't they? Only they are actually brothers by blood."

Arthur nods. "The parallel is not lost on me," he quietly says.

"Nor I. When Merlin confirmed Gwydre has magic, I just looked at him, holding our son; it was like seeing the future." She sighs. "I'm not explaining it very well..."

"No, I know exactly what you mean," Arthur says. "When Gwydre grabbed Llacheu's hand... I mean, I'm sure it was a reflex; they're too young to make decisions like that... but... Llacheu calmed down. He took comfort in the knowledge that his brother was near, looking out for him. Even though Llacheu is bigger and stronger, he still needed his brother."

"Exactly," Guinevere agrees. "Camelot will be in good hands for a long time to come," she says. Arthur nods, kissing her cheek, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

No one needs to say that Gwydre will be trained by Merlin with the intent of becoming the Court Sorcerer's successor. No one needs to say that Llacheu will become the greatest Knight of Camelot after his father. No one needs to say these things because the young princes' paths are clearly laid before them.

Arthur and Guinevere lay awake, talking quietly and watching their sons sleep until they stir, demanding to be fed again. Then, they watch their children sleep a while longer, still marveling over them, until Gelda and Hunith come to bundle the princes off to their little cots, where the wet nurse will see to their overnight feedings so that the queen may sleep, happy and content in the arms of her loving king.

Chapter Text

The first magical offender was brought before Merlin sooner than anyone expected. A young woman called Eira, another one of Morgana's followers, arrived in Camelot with the foolish intent of avenging her mistress' death. Unlike Kara, Eira was beyond redemption, almost as depraved as Morgana herself. Fortunately, her magic was nowhere near as strong as the witch's. Aithusa recognized her from the sky, alerted Merlin, and Mordred was able to intercept and arrest her in the courtyard before she got anywhere near the royal family.

Arthur had set aside a remote part of the dungeon for Merlin's use, hoping he'd never need it, but knowing the likelihood exists. Merlin applied the same enchantment to this block of cells as he had to Kara's room. This part of the dungeon received its first occupant when the twins were one month old.

Kara still stays in her room, but it is no longer enchanted. She has proven to be a trustworthy and intelligent girl, and has been studying with Gaius as well as taking over the chores Merlin used to perform for him.

Aithusa's assistance in apprehending Eira prompted Arthur to – cautiously – allow Merlin to let her do a few patrols from the air, but only after the Court Sorcerer spread the word to the people that they should not fear the white dragon should they see her. In time, Merlin would like to have her airborne at least twice a week to do broad sweeps of the countryside, but for the moment, he is grateful to be able to allow her this small freedom. She grows larger and more confident each day, and has formed a solid bond with her dragonlord and friend.

Merlin has moved into his own quarters and the magical items he had hidden beneath the floorboards of his old room are no longer hidden. They have also been joined by a few more things he brought up from the archives beneath the castle.

He loves having his mother around, and Hunith has settled in quite well. She and Gelda only take care of the princes when Arthur and Guinevere are unable to do so due to matters of state or emergencies. The royal couple are involved in their sons' lives as much as possible and do not rely on the royal nursemaids to raise their children for them.

Hunith has enough free time to be able to see Merlin, talking with him and catching each other up. They never really had much time to talk during the brief times he visited Ealdor, so she had no idea he met his father and that Balinor is now gone. Hunith was deeply saddened by the news of his death, trying unsuccessfully to hide her tears from her son. "It's foolishness," she said, trying to wave off her sorrow. "I knew I would likely never see him again."

Merlin held his mother, assuring her she was not foolish, and that Balinor had died bravely, protecting him. Once Hunith's tears abated, she begged Merlin's forgiveness for never having told him about his father. He promised her there was nothing to forgive, telling her he understood why the former dragonlord's identity had to be kept a secret and did not fault her. She was very happy they did get to meet, if only for a short time, and was overjoyed that Merlin had inherited his father's powers. Merlin offered to take her to meet Aithusa. When she softly declined "for now", stating she would need time to prepare her heart for such an encounter, Merlin realized his mother must have truly loved his father. This knowledge both warmed his heart and made him sad.

Leon and Gwaine have been leading patrols out into the kingdom, spreading the word about the new laws regarding magic and keeping a keen eye out for any remaining followers of Morgana. Edwin and Brannock were always along on these patrols, having been given instruction and training from Merlin, as extra aid against anything magical they might encounter. Thus far, the patrols have not turned up anything of major concern.

Percival has more time to devote to his duties as the queen's bodyguard now that Gelda is living in the castle, but still heads to the lower town regularly to visit Violet, the eldest daughter of Gelda's neighbor. Unbeknownst to everyone except Gelda and the young woman's family, the shy knight had been quietly courting the baker's pretty daughter since shortly before the princes were born. He would briefly visit her after he completed his duties at Gelda's house and before he returned to the castle. With the queen's blessing, he is able to continue seeing Violet, and plans to ask her father for her hand before midsummer.

The young princes have been doing well, and are, by all accounts, good babies. Llacheu gets a little crankier than Gwydre when he's hungry and they fuss if they are placed in separate cots to sleep, but they are healthy, growing rapidly, and seem quite content.

xXx

Two months have passed since Princes Llacheu and Gwydre have been born. Spring has arrived in Camelot and the time has come for the infants to be blessed and officially presented to the kingdom.

Visitors have come from neighboring kingdoms to attend the event, the first of its kind in decades. Queen Annis has made the journey with her eldest son, Prince Allard, and his wife, Princess Merewald. The aging queen is still clever and strong, and while she is gradually passing the mantle of power to her son, she wished to make the journey to Camelot to see the princes as well as the young king and queen.

King Godwin and Princess Elena have come to pay their respects as well. Freed from the Sidhe entity which had possessed her since babyhood, the princess has blossomed into not only a beautiful woman, but a shrewd and intelligent advisor to the king and her older brother, Prince Barric. Barric has stayed in Gawant as his wife has recently given birth to a daughter.

Mithian has also returned to Camelot, this time as Queen of Nemeth. King Rodor passed away shortly after their ordeal with Morgana, and Mithian's older brother, also called Rodor, died of a grave illness during the winter. He was unmarried, but had the presence of mind to declare his only sister his heir when it became clear he would not survive to see the spring. Mithian had already been ruling as regent for some time due to his illness, so the transition was not difficult.

King Olaf was invited, but declined, stating that Princess Vivian is due to bear a child any day now and he has chosen to remain at home because he did not wish to miss the birth of his grandson. Arthur and Guinevere were mainly relieved to learn that Vivian had found her own true love and was no longer magically besotted with Arthur.

Most surprisingly, King Odin has chosen to attend. Arthur was anxious over his tenuous ally's presence in Camelot and kept Merlin and Leon close at hand when Odin's party arrived. Odin greeted Arthur and Guinevere politely. While his demeanor could not be described as friendly or warm, he did smile at the queen before kissing her hand. He even nodded somewhat respectfully to Merlin, perhaps remembering that this young sorcerer was the servant who intervened and saved his life, resulting in peace between the two kingdoms.

The castle has been a bustle of activity, the servants dashing about readying rooms for those who will be staying overnight. The kitchen staff has been working nonstop for days. The king, queen, and two nursemaids have been doing everything possible to keep the babies away from all the upheaval in the castle, even going so far as to declare the corridor containing the royal chambers, royal nursery, and the nursemaids' rooms Off Limits to nearly everyone.

So, it comes as quite a surprise when there is a knock at the nursery door. Thankfully, Guinevere has just finished feeding the boys and is decently covered.

Hunith and Gelda are changing their charges' soiled linens, so Guinevere decides to answer the knock. "Yes?" she calls.

"Percival, my lady," the knight's familiar voice answers.

Guinevere opens the door and sees Percival standing with Queen Annis at his side. Smiling, she opens the door wider to allow them in. Annis enters, but the knight merely bows and assumes his post outside the doors, which he closes.

"Forgive me, Gwen, I know you wish to keep all the activity away, but do indulge an old woman in her dotage," Annis apologizes. "I haven't any new grandchildren to cuddle, you know," she adds.

"Of course," Guinevere says, clasping the older queen's hand. The two queens have met several times and have formed a solid friendship. "They are fed and changed, so they should be quite content."

"Oh, goodness," Annis gasps softly as Hunith and Gelda approach with the twins. "They look so much alike... are they identical?"

"The midwife said they aren't," Guinevere says, taking Llacheu from Gelda, "but they do look remarkably similar. I think Llacheu's eyes will be brown, as they are already getting darker. This is Llacheu Thomas." She passes him to Annis.

"Hello, Llacheu," Annis coos to the baby, who reaches up and closes his tiny fist around a lock of the queen's auburn hair. "Which is the future king?"

"You're holding him," Guinevere says. Hunith passes Gwydre to her, and she nuzzles his head, then kisses it. "This is Gwydre Elyan."

Annis looks back and forth between the two babies. "His eyes are very blue, indeed," she comments, noting Gwydre's bright cerulean eyes. "Are they named for anyone? I have been wondering ever since I received the announcement."

"Thomas was my father and Elyan was my brother," Guinevere says.

"Oh, yes, that's right," Annis nods, remembering the younger queen's sad family history. "It is wonderful that you are able to honor them so." She pauses thoughtfully for a moment. "Although, I cannot help but notice that 'Uther' is not among the names."

Guinevere presses her lips together for a moment. Then, she angles her head at Annis. "Well, if you were me, would you want to name one of your darling children after Uther?"

Annis finally allows the laughter she was holding in to come forth. She has learned much of Guinevere's background and knows the young queen rightly has no love for the former king. "Definitely not," she chuckles. "He was an ally, but..."

"Yes," Guinevere agrees, completely understanding. "Would you like to say hello to Gwydre?" she asks, hoping her second son's gift doesn't alarm the older queen should it manifest itself.

"Of course," she says. Hunith, who is closer at hand, steps up to take Llacheu from Annis to allow Guinevere to pass Gwydre to her. Then, she passes Llacheu to his mother.

Guinevere kisses Llacheu's cheek. He hooks his fingers into her mouth and she kisses those, too, then gently removes them. I probably should tell her in case Gwydre unintentionally does something. "Annis, this is not public knowledge, but Gwydre... Gwydre has magic."

"He does?" Annis asks, surprised, looking up from where she was stroking the younger prince's curls. "How do you know?"

"He showed us. Hours after he was born. I'm telling you this in confidence as a trusted friend," she reiterates.

"Of course, of course," Annis says. "I completely understand the need for discretion in this matter. I'm sure your Merlin is over the moon, but... how did Arthur take it?"

"Very well. He's... adjusted his mindset about magic. I'll have to tell you that tale tonight, about how the whole change transpired. Do not let me forget."

"Oh, do not worry, Gwen. I may be old, but my memory is still quite intact," she says. She looks down at Gwydre again, letting him close his fist around her finger. "Oh!" she exclaims softly. "I... I think I understand why you told me." She looks up, her face alight.

"What did he do?" Guinevere asks, shifting Llacheu in her arms. He's got a handful of his mother's hair now. He doesn't pull; he simply holds it.

"His eyes turned gold for a second, then I felt a..."

"A wave of something?" Guinevere supplies. "That's how we usually describe it. A wave of some kind of emotion."

Annis nods. "Happiness. Contentment. He must be a very happy boy," she says, smiling.

Guinevere nods. "We think so. He only seems unhappy when he's tired, hungry, needs a change, or is too far away from his brother. Llacheu seems to be the same, though when he's unhappy, the entire castle knows."

"His father's son," Annis laughs. "Already a true king in the making."

xXx

The royal carpenters have crafted two beautiful bassinets for the twins. They both bear the Pendragon Crest and are sumptuously dressed in deep, rich linens, red for Llacheu and purple for Gwydre.

The two bassinets rest in the front of the throne room, side by side on the floor in front of the dais, close enough together so the boys won't fuss at being separated. For the moment, they are empty. The princes are being held by their parents, standing in front of their thrones.

Geoffrey steps forward and speaks the traditional words, blessing the children, officially declaring them Princes of Camelot.

"Llacheu Thomas, first born and heir to the Pendragon throne," he declares, and Arthur holds the boy upright. Geoffrey taps the infant's shoulders with a small ceremonial staff. Llacheu makes a grab for the shiny object, and Arthur has to stifle his laughter.

"Gwydre Elyan, second born and Prince of Camelot," Geoffrey says, repeating the process with the second twin. Guinevere holds her breath, hoping her magical baby doesn't reveal his gifts to the world. It is a matter Arthur and Guinevere have discussed at length, and they decided to keep Gwydre's magic under wraps for as long as possible, for his safety. Merlin had agreed this is a good idea.

Thankfully, Gwydre does nothing apart from yawn when Geoffrey approaches him with the golden staff.

Geoffrey steps away, and begins the chants of "Long live Prince Llacheu! Long live Prince Gwydre!" The crowd quickly joins in, but Geoffrey mindfully holds his hands up after only a few repetitions, concerned about the noise upsetting the infants.

Arthur and Guinevere are about to step down and place the twins in their bassinets so they can be viewed, but the doors in the back open and a large group of people enter.

Druids. Their leader is a tall man with silver hair falling in soft waves around his head. His face is surprisingly youthful beneath the gray hair, and his bearing is regal. Merlin steps out from his place at the front of the crowd and turns to face them.

The wise, serene-looking man nods to the sorcerer, then turns his attention to the king and queen. He stops a respectful distance from the bassinets and bends down on one knee before the two rulers. The rest of his party follows suit. There are about twenty people in all.

"Forgive our tardiness, King Arthur and Queen Guinevere. Our journey was delayed," he says. "With your consent, we would like to bestow our blessings on the princes."

"Welcome, friends," Arthur says. "We would be honored." He nods, and the leader steps forward, pausing to clasp hands with Merlin.

"Iseldir," Merlin says, "it is good to see you."

"Emrys, we have much to discuss later," Iseldir answers. "Mordred," he smiles and nods kindly to the young Druid knight behind Merlin, who is ready to jump out of his skin with excitement at seeing so many of his clan. Iseldir stops before the king and queen once again. "My lord, may I approach?" he asks.

"Please," Arthur answers with a nod.

Iseldir climbs the steps and stands before Arthur and Guinevere, his hands outstretched towards the princes. He speaks softly, in a strange tongue, his eyes closed. He opens his eyes as he concludes, and looks down at Llacheu. "Prince Llacheu," he says, kissing his fingers, then pressing them to the baby's forehead. "Prince Gwydre." He repeats the action with the other prince, pausing for the briefest moment after touching his fingers to the younger son's forehead. It's not long enough that anyone outside of Arthur, Guinevere, and Merlin would notice. Iseldir looks at Arthur, and the king nods very slightly, confirming what the Druid leader has surely learned. "It is a blessing," he whispers, just loud enough for the sovereigns to hear.

"Yes," Arthur softly agrees, and Guinevere nods her assent. Iseldir bows and withdraws, rejoining his group. They all step back, flowing into the crowd.

Arthur and Guinevere step down and place their sons in their bassinets, then stand behind them, assuming their posts as the crowd begins to flow past to view the infants. The two nursemaids hover nearby, just in case they are needed.

The knights are the first to pay their respects. The Four are the first in line, though they are already well-acquainted with the princes. Once Percival has passed through, he moves to stand behind the queen. The rest of the knights walk past, some only giving a cursory glance, others commenting on how similar they look, how big they are, what kind of knights they'll one day be.

Next to pass by are the invited royalty. Queen Annis with her son and daughter-in-law, Godwin, Elena, Odin, and Mithian all smile at the princes.

Annis has already given her gifts to Merlin, but Elena is holding two parcels for the princes, and she hands them to Gelda, who receives them with a curtsey and a soft word of thanks. She looks down the line and sees there are more gifts coming, so she sets Elena's presents behind her, knowing that each one will have to be inspected by Merlin before they are given to the king and queen for the babies.

Odin peers curiously at them, looking up at Arthur and Guinevere, then back down to the boys and back up again, as if he is trying to figure out who they most resemble. Then, he nods and moves along.

Mithian declares the babies "beautiful", whispering the word as she fondly gazes down at them, hoping one day to be as lucky as Queen Guinevere. She truly bears Guinevere no ill will over what transpired over four years ago, but has been so busy running Nemeth that she has had no time to find the great love for which she had been hoping. Mithian smiles wistfully, then moves along so the next guest can view the princes. Before departing, she clasps Arthur's hand and gives Guinevere a brief hug. As she moves away, she briefly locks eyes with the tall knight posted nearby. Why is it I always notice him when I visit? What is his name? Sir Lloyd? No. Leon. He smiles shyly, blushing just a bit, then averts his gaze. Mithian feels an inexplicable smile tug at her lips as she walks away, returning to her room to freshen up before the feast.

Towards the end of the mass of nobles, Arthur sees a man who appears to be acting somewhat suspicious and shifty. He catches Merlin's eye and looks pointedly at the man, his jaw set. Merlin nods and steps forward, hovering on the fringes, watching carefully.

The man approaches the bassinets, leaning over them. A moment later, he jerks backward with a shout of pain. He staggers, dazed. Merlin and Mordred rush forward and grab his arms. Arthur takes a step but stops, deciding to watch as he doesn't know if this man has magic or not. The man struggles as best he can in his state, still hazy but clearly not troubled by the young knight and the thin warlock. Percival steps forward, glowering down at the man. He stops struggling.

Merlin releases his arm and passes him off to Percival. "He has no magic. Just an idiot," he informs the knight.

"Take him to the dungeons. We will deal with him later," Arthur declares.

Percival nods, studying the criminal. "He looks familiar," he mutters, hauling him away with Mordred still on the other side. While making their way to the doors, Percival calls to Gwaine.

"Yeah?" he asks, then notices the prisoner. "Oh. Him. One of Morgana's goons. It may have been dark in those caverns, but I'd remember that ugly, bulbous nose anywhere. I'll take him for you; you return to the queen."

"Thanks, mate," Percival says. "I thought that was where I remembered seeing him." He frowns, recalling the time he and Gwaine spent as Morgana's captives, digging for some unknown item they never found.

"So, what'd he try to do, anyway?" Gwaine asks Mordred. Percival doesn't hear his fellow knight's answer as he returns to the front of the throne room. He nods reassuringly to Arthur and Guinevere.

"Well, we know it works," Merlin says, looking at Arthur. Shortly after the twins were born, Merlin put another one of his protective charms over them. It protects them from anyone wishing to do them harm, but will allow them to experience the bumps and bruises of normal childhood. It was Guinevere who specified that detail, wishing for them to experience "everything any child would, including scraped knees."

Of course, at Arthur's request, Merlin did ensure that no serious harm would come to the boys, even accidentally, until they were of age. It was also agreed that the princes will not be told about this safeguard lest they decide to put it to the test when they are older. "If they're anything like I was as a child, they would certainly see how far they can push the boundaries of the enchantment," Arthur said, chuckling. Guinevere, remembering the prince as a boy, nodded in agreement.

"The matter has been resolved," Arthur announces to the remaining visitors. "Please, continue." He gives Merlin a nod of thanks.

Merlin sternly looks out over the faces yet waiting to view the princes, making it clear that what happened to the intruder was no accident.

The last of the people file past, a few glancing surreptitiously at Merlin before reaching the two bassinets, but there are no more incidents.

The Druid retinue is the last group to view the princes, waiting until everyone else has passed through, including the servants.

They linger, not processing forward. Iseldir steps out again.

"Iseldir, you have something more you wish to say?" Arthur asks curiously.

"Not me, Sire, but another." He steps to the side, revealing a young girl with her head bowed, her long brown hair obscuring her face.

Guinevere bends her head, looking closely, even stepping forward a bit. "Sefa?" she asks.

The girl raises her head. It is Sefa, returned to Camelot despite having been sentenced to death just over a year ago. She looks thinner, paler, as though her life has been very difficult since she fled Camelot. Her expression is haunted.

"What is it you wish to say, Sefa?" Arthur asks, his voice quiet.

She takes a deep breath. "My lord, my lady, I... I wish to make amends for my crimes by swearing my allegiance to you," she pauses, her soft voice wavering, "and aiding Lord Merlin in any way I can to help keep magic good… and pure in this land." She swallows hard and reaches up to wipe a tear from her face. "However, I will humbly accept any punishment you see fit to place on me." She exhales heavily, as though relieved to finally speak the words she's clearly been practicing for some time.

Arthur looks at his wife. "Guinevere, it was you who passed judgment on this woman. What say you?"

Guinevere looks down at her now-sleeping sons and thinks a moment, then looks at her former maidservant. "Sefa, it was never my intent to execute you. Your death sentence was a ploy to lure your father out into the open."

Sefa bows her head. "You are too kind, my lady. What I did was unforgivable, and I regret my actions every day." She looks up at the king and queen. "I am truly very sorry. My father was wrong. You were right. Respect is to be earned. I am here to humbly beg your mercy and ask that I be allowed to earn your respect. Even though I do not deserve such a gift." With a trembling hand, she brings a dirty handkerchief from a hidden pocket and dabs her face as the tears continue to fall.

Guinevere nods slightly, impressed that the girl remembered her words. "I do not believe we need to discuss the details of your actions and their consequences again. You were following your father's orders, and thought you could trust him. Sadly, there are many people in this room who have been led astray by someone they trusted." Beside her, Arthur nods, frowning slightly.

"Yes, my lady. These kind people, my people, have helped me see the error of my father's ways. I promise you I am no longer my father's daughter."

"Thank you, Sefa," Guinevere says, then turns to Arthur. "She seems to be in earnest," she whispers.

"Her actions cost lives," Arthur reminds her.

"Yes, but surely we must allow her the opportunity to prove her loyalty? To prove her heart has changed? I do not believe she is a bad person, Arthur. I never did."

"There's not much harm she can do with Merlin around. Plus, this entire group of Druids is willing to stand by her," Arthur allows. "For the record, I do agree with you. I was merely making certain you had taken every detail into consideration."

Guinevere smiles, suddenly realizing that their traditional roles have temporarily reversed. Usually, it is Arthur making the call with Guinevere asking the difficult questions and making sure he has looked at the issue from all angles. "I know exactly what you were doing, my love," she says. She turns and looks at Merlin. "Merlin?" Guinevere asks. "Will you accept Sefa into your fold?"

Merlin steps forward. "Yes, my lady, if she wishes to stay on the path of light, she is welcome," he answers. He turns to Sefa. "Sefa, I did not know you had magic."

She sniffles, collecting herself. "It is weak... my lord..." she stammers, trying to remember to address the young man she knew as the king's manservant by his new title, "but I have been working with Iseldir to develop it. He assures me I will be able to grow much more under your tutelage. If you are willing to teach me. Sir," she shyly says, looking down as her cheeks turn pink.

"I am willing to teach any who are willing to learn," Merlin answers.

"Thank you, sir," Sefa quietly says, a relieved sob escaping. She covers her face with her handkerchief. An older woman steps forward and wraps a comforting arm around the girl's shoulders.

"If there are any others who wish to stay in Camelot, you are welcome within our borders," Arthur says.

"Thank you, Sire, but for the moment, Sefa is the only one who wishes to remain. You will be seeing either Padrig," he nods to a pleasant, powerful looking bald man beside him, "or myself quite regularly. We are very much looking forward to a positive and open relationship between Camelot and the Druid people. We know of the promise you made that day, Arthur, and we thank you for it."

Arthur nods, knowing exactly to which "day" Iseldir is referring. "I, too, remember my promise, and look forward to the same outcome, Iseldir." He looks at Guinevere, whose brow is furrowed in confusion. "I'll tell you later, Love," he whispers. "It's something that happened while you were gone, something I have been remiss in not telling you."

Guinevere nods, satisfied with her husband's words. "Will you be staying for the feast, Iseldir?" she asks.

"No, good Queen, we cannot. We thank you for your hospitality, but wish to return to our camp tonight. With your kind permission, we would gaze upon the princes and take our leave," he answers.

"Please," Guinevere invites. The Druids file forward, each one smiling warmly at the infants, each one bowing or curtseying to the king and queen.

Sefa is last, and when she curtseys before her rulers, she looks less haunted, but her eyes are red from crying. "Thank you, my lord, my lady. Thank you so very much. I cannot begin to repay your kindness, but I shall do my hardest to try."

"We will be keeping a close eye on you for some time, Sefa," Guinevere says. "I do believe you have seen the error of your ways, but we cannot be too careful."

"Yes, my lady. I understand," Sefa quietly responds.

Motion in the background catches Guinevere's eye and she turns to see Mordred and Kara standing there. She beckons them over. "Please, come greet your friends," she says, remembering that these are the Druids from their clan.

Mordred and Kara rush forward, both hugging Iseldir tightly. They talk briefly, then Kara approaches Sefa and embraces her. "Welcome," Kara says, hugging her again.

"Kara," Guinevere calls, stepping closer, "you know Sefa?"

"Yes, my lady," Kara answers. "She was my older sister's closest friend," she explains. "Until she died," she quietly adds.

"I am sorry to hear that, Kara," Guinevere says sympathetically.

"Thank you, my lady. Um, my lady... I was hoping... I fear it is asking too much, but..."

"Yes?" Guinevere asks.

"If Sefa has no place to live, may she please stay with me? I understand you may have Merlin enchant the room again, but I would welcome her company," Kara says. "I have missed her."

"Merlin?" Guinevere turns to the sorcerer. He heard Kara mention his name and had moved closer.

"I don't see the harm," Merlin answers.

"Very well," Guinevere says, turning to look at Arthur, who is talking with Iseldir and Alvarr. "He usually leaves these matters to me, anyway," the queen murmurs. Merlin nods in agreement. "I'll fill him in later." She gives Merlin's arm a gentle squeeze, then walks over to join Arthur. She pauses by the bassinets where Hunith and Gelda are watching over the children and is pleased to see them still slumbering peacefully.

Merlin chuckles. "Sefa, do you have any possessions?"

"Only one bag, sir," she softly answers. "It's hidden outside."

Merlin nods and heads over to Arthur and the two Druid leaders.

"Sefa, you're going to be very happy here, I know it," Kara continues, turning back towards the other girl. "The king and queen are very good and kind. The queen, especially, is the kindest..."

"I know, Kara," Sefa interjects. "I was Queen Guinevere's handmaiden for a short time. And I agree. The king is a bit more... distant, but he actually cares. He is a good man. This is the one thing I could never reconcile with my father's words. He would tell me what awful people the Pendragons are, but... what I experienced when I served the king and queen was very different." She pauses, growing upset again. "And I did such horrible…"

"Shh, now," Kara soothes, comforting her friend. "From what I have been told, your father was likely blaming King Arthur for his father's actions. It was King Uther who was the tyrant. King Arthur has been working very hard to undo all the damage his father had caused," Kara says.

Merlin returns to them, followed by Mordred. "Come, let's get Sefa settled and head to the feast. I'm starving," he says.

"Thank you, Merlin," Sefa says. "I have... I've missed it here. Oh, forgive me, Lord Merlin."

"It takes some getting used to, even for me," Merlin says, leading them out of the throne room behind the rest of the Druids. In the corridor, they allow Sefa a few minutes to say her goodbyes and express her gratitude for the care she had received from her new-found family. They begin to file out and she returns, pulling her bag from its hiding place.

xXx

The next morning, Arthur and Guinevere stand in the courtyard to bid farewell to their visitors. The feast was enjoyed by all except the two little guests of honor, who made a brief appearance before retiring to the nursery with their mother and nursemaids for their dinner and bed. Once the princes' bellies were full and they were tucked into their cot, Guinevere returned to the feast.

Odin is the first to leave, as his party is the smallest. "Arthur," he gruffly greets the king.

"Odin. Thank you for coming. We truly appreciate the gesture," Arthur answers, clasping arms with the older king.

"I'm going to be honest: I still don't much care for you. However, we are allies and should behave as such," Odin says.

"Understood. And, since we are being honest, I was quite surprised you accepted the invitation," Arthur says, chuckling slightly.

"Quite," Odin agrees. "I've named my nephew, Maxwell, as my heir. Trying to set a good example. He may be calling on you in the near future."

"He is welcome," Arthur says. "I look forward to meeting him."

Odin grunts noncommittally, then looks at Guinevere. "Your choice of queen was unconventional, but I believe it was the correct one," he declares. "My lady," he holds out his hand and Guinevere places hers in it. "It was an honor to make your acquaintance," he says, then bends to kiss her hand.

"Thank you, my lord, and thank you for your gifts to the princes. Please visit us again," she says.

Odin nods, then turns to mount his horse. He pauses and turns back to Arthur. "Pendragon," he calls.

"Yes?"

"You have already proved to be a better king than Uther. I expect you'll be a better father to your sons than your father was to you," he says.

Arthur is dumbstruck for a moment. Did he just give me a compliment and advice? "I intend to be, Odin. Thank you," he answers.

Odin nods, climbs astride his horse, and rides out of the courtyard.

"Well, that was a surprise," Arthur says turning to Guinevere. They see Mithian's party preparing to leave and walk that way.

"Thank you, Sir Leon, for the lovely morning," the royal couple hear Mithian saying as they approach.

"Lovely morning?" Arthur murmurs, only loud enough for his wife to hear.

"It was my pleasure, my lady," Leon answers, looking down at Mithian, his expression soft. "It is not every day one has the opportunity to give a tour of the armory to a visiting queen. Especially one who is so knowledgable about weaponry."

Mithian smiles. She glances over and sees Arthur and Guinevere are near. "But, surely your own queen must have a fair amount of knowledge regarding weapons, with her father having been a blacksmith," she says, smiling at Guinevere.

Leon coughs awkwardly. "Well, yes, of course, Queen Guinevere is more learned than most women on such matters, but..."

"Sir Leon, this is not a competition," Guinevere says, resting her hand on his forearm, laughing. "I am happy you had such a pleasant time. It is serendipitous that you encountered each other, what with your love of weaponry and Mithian's love of hunting. I am sure you had much to discuss."

"I cannot remember the last time I was able to relax like this. Thank you," Mithian says, shyly looking up at Leon. She drops her eyes, her cheeks coloring, then looks at Guinevere again. "Life has been very busy in Nemeth since my father and brother died. The Council did not want me to come to Camelot, but... I wanted to come. I needed to, if I am being honest."

Guinevere reaches out and hugs the young queen. "I understand. It is difficult seeing to matters on your own. I have had to do it a few times while Arthur was away. I have always relied heavily on people like Leon, Merlin, and Gaius during those times. You must find those you trust and keep them close," she advises.

Mithian nods. "I have." She squares her shoulders. "The worst part is the Council seems to want me to fail."

"You must not let them get to you, Mithian," Arthur says, stepping forward. "You are queen. You must trust others, as Guinevere said, but you must also trust yourself. Learn from my mistakes," he says, smiling.

Mithian reaches out and holds his hand between both of hers. "Thank you, Arthur. I will take your words," she looks over at Guinevere, "both of your words to heart."

"You are a smart woman, Mithian, and Nemeth should be proud to have you as her queen," Arthur declares. "Please, do keep us informed as to your progress there. And, do let us know if we can help in any way."

"Thank you, I will," Mithian answers, smiling gratefully.

"If I may," Leon says, clearing his throat.

"Yes, Sir Leon?" Arthur asks.

"Queen Mithian confessed to me that her knights could do with a bit of tightening up. I would be willing to take a few men and..."

"I think that could be arranged," Guinevere answers before Leon finishes his thought, a slow smile creeping across her face. She looks up at Leon, who quickly looks away. I know you too well, my old friend. "Perhaps around midsummer. Arthur, what do you think?"

Arthur looks at his wife, a little confused as to why she is so eager. Guinevere looks pointedly at Mithian and Leon, and realization dawns. "Oh, um, yes. Excellent idea. Midsummer should be fine."

"My lady," one of Mithian's knights approaches, indicating they are ready.

"Yes, one moment," Mithian says. The knight bows and walks away. "Llacheu and Gwydre are beautiful. Just darling. I wish them nothing but happiness," she says. Then, she gives Guinevere another hug, grasps Arthur's hand once more, and turns towards her horse.

"Safe travels, Mithian," Arthur says.

"My lady, if I may?" Leon asks, offering to assist her to her saddle.

"Mithian," she tells him. "Did I not ask you to call me Mithian?" she softly asks, smiling a little.

"I do not recall, my lady," Leon answers, smiling in return. There is a glimmer in his eye that indicates he does recall and she has likely asked him several times.

"They already have little secret jokes?" Arthur asks quietly. "Guinevere...?" he asks his wife, who is urgently tugging at his sleeve. "What is...? Oh. What has been going on around here?"

He turns to see Gwaine standing with Godwin and Elena, talking companionably. He says something that makes Godwin laugh, and Arthur's jaw drops.

"We need to go over there," Arthur says, taking Guinevere's hand and leading her towards them. He pauses when he sees Gwaine take Elena's hand and lift it to his lips, kissing it right in front of Godwin, who doesn't even blink.

Their conversation reaches Arthur and Guinevere's ears as they come closer.

"...see if we can arrange something," Godwin concludes.

"Thank you, my lord, that... ah, hello," Gwaine greets his king and queen. "Just saying goodbye to the king and the princess here."

"So we see," Arthur says. He waits, but Gwaine doesn't elaborate, so he gives up. For now. "Godwin, Elena, thank you for making the journey," Arthur says.

"Of course, we wouldn't miss it," Godwin says, smiling. "Your sons are handsome and strong."

"They are adorable and sweet," Elena chimes in, stepping forward. She turns towards Guinevere. "Gwen, it was so good to see you again. I am sorry we did not have more of an opportunity to visit. I daresay Lord Merlin took up much of my time."

"Yes, but he had such important information for you," Guinevere says. "Perhaps another day." She smiles and warmly clasps the princess' hand. Merlin had made sure to take the time to tell Elena about the Sidhe faerie who had possessed her for most of her youth, how he got rid of it, and what Grunhilda actually was. Elena took the news remarkably well, thanking him graciously for doing her such a kindness and taking great risks when he did not even know her. Merlin assured the princess it was all part of his duty to ensure magic is used for positive purposes, and that the faerie would have consumed her had he not intervened.

Elena smiles, shaking her head incredulously. "Everything makes so much sense now." Arthur glances knowingly at his wife, squeezing her hand. She smiles up at him. "When I return I shall have to bring Lord Merlin a token of my thanks," Elena concludes.

Guinevere smiles, noting Elena used the word when, not if. And, it sounded as though she planned on returning soon. She glances at Gwaine, still hovering nearby, and wonders what happened between them and when. "I'm sure he will say your doing so is not necessary, but I think it is a wonderful thought. Safe travels, Elena."

Arthur steps over from his conversation with Godwin and clasps Elena's hand. "It was good to see you again," he says.

"Yes, and this time under much better circumstances," she says, a teasing glint in her eye.

"Elena…" Godwin says, but even he cannot put any real feeling of reproach behind it.

"It all turned out for the best, Father. Surely we are allowed to make light of the situation now. It's been years, honestly. Arthur and I harbor no ill will over it, so why not have a laugh? It's certainly better than pretending it didn't happen," she says.

Arthur glances at Guinevere. "Yes, nothing good ever comes of pretending an event never happened," he agrees, smiling and taking his wife's hand. "You are both always welcome in Camelot. Perhaps, when the children are older, we shall visit Gawant one day," he proposes.

"That would be lovely," Godwin says.

Guinevere notices Elena exchange a glance with Gwaine, and something tells her Elena will be returning to Camelot, perhaps more than once, before she, Arthur, and the princes ever travel to Gawant.

"Sire, we are ready," Godwin's servant quietly states.

"Yes, thank you. Arthur, Guinevere. Always a pleasure," he nods, and his servant assists him up onto his horse. Behind them, Elena allows Gwaine to help her onto her mare, though they all know she doesn't need the assistance. Godwin glances over as the knight kisses his daughter's hand. He looks down, sees Arthur's raised eyebrows, sighs, and shrugs. "The heart knows, apparently."

"Indeed, my lord," Arthur agrees.

Chapter Text

-The Story of Percival and Violet-

Percival first saw her on the day Queen Guinevere visited Mrs. Seward to offer her apology. He was standing outside the house, watching the people pass by, nodding to familiar faces, smiling at children. Many of the other knights don't enjoy the "slower" activities with which they are sometimes tasked, but Percival never minded them.

She walked past Mrs. Seward's house, carrying a sack of flour. She was taller than most women, with broad shoulders and strong arms. She was slender but not willowy like a Lady who had never lifted a finger. She was strong and moved gracefully despite her burden. There was a scarf covering her hair, but the long ends hanging beneath it were medium brown, wavy, and held a glint of copper in the sunlight.

She glanced up when she passed him. Though she quickly looked down, Percival caught a glimpse of large, brown eyes framed by long lashes, a straight nose, and full lips. There was flour on her face.

Percival thought she was beautiful.

Amazingly, she bobbed a small curtsey, unhindered by the sack of flour over her shoulder, and hurried inside. When the door opened, Percival caught a glimpse of her father, the baker. When the door closed, the scent of bread wafted over to him, evoking memories of home.

I should have offered to carry that sack for her. The realization hit him too late.

He was bringing water up for Mrs. Seward when he saw her again. A bucket in each hand, he walked past the bakery and spotted her through the window. She looked up and their eyes met. This time, it was Percival who quickly looked away as he felt his cheeks heat and ears redden, having been caught staring.

Still, he glanced over his shoulder just before he ducked into the house. She was still watching him.

The shy glances and "accidental" encounters went on for a few weeks. It got so he found himself seeking her out, looking for a glimpse of her hair, the sound of her footsteps. He wondered what her voice sounded like. What her name was. If she was betrothed or married.

He realized he could ask Mrs. Seward these last two questions, but his shyness got the better of him.

His questions are answered soon enough. Percival is just leaving Mrs. Seward's when a small boy, about four, runs past him and towards the street. The knight looks up and sees a cart approaching. The boy is too small to be seen by the driver, so Percival quickly reaches down and scoops the child up just before he is run down.

"Baxter!" a voice calls. Percival turns toward the voice, the child still cradled in his large arms.

It's her.

His heart sinks as he realizes this must be her child. She is married.

"Thank you, sir," she says, running to meet him. "He got away from me, and I saw the cart, and..."

Percival hands her the boy. "It was no trouble," he says. "I just happened to be in the right place at the right time."

"Baxter, you know you're not supposed to run off like that," she scolds the child. "Look what almost happened to you."

"Sorry, Auntie," he answers softly.

Auntie?

"Now, say 'thank you' to this nice knight," she instructs, glancing at Percival, "and go back inside to Grandmother."

"Thank you, nice knight," Baxter obediently says.

"You are very welcome, Baxter," Percival answers, smiling. "He is a spirited lad," he says, looking at the young woman.

"That is one way of phrasing it," she says, releasing the squirming boy and lightly swatting his bottom as he runs back to the bakery where his grandmother is now waiting in the doorway with her hands on her hips. They hear her softly scold the boy as she ushers him inside.

"Forgive my terrible manners. My name is Percival," he introduces himself in order to learn her name.

"I'm Violet," she answers softly. "You're a knight," she adds.

"Yes," he replies. "I help out Mrs. Seward because she has no one to aid her."

Violet stares quizzically at him. "I'm sorry, I don't understand. I don't mean to be impertinent, sir, but why would you, a knight, be doing chores for a commoner?"

"I can tell your family has been wondering about this over these last few weeks," he comments, smiling slightly. "But, it is just as I have said. She needs the help, and I am willing to give it." He sees that his answer is still unsatisfactory, so he continues, attempting to explain. "It is a long story, I'm afraid. As you know, she has no one. The queen asked me if I would be willing to look in on Mrs. Seward occasionally, and I immediately agreed. I... I know what it is like to have lost your entire family, so..."

"I am sorry, Sir Percival," she quietly says. He looks down at her, allowing his eyes to linger on her lovely face, again dusted with flour, a loose tendril of hair curling under her chin from where it has escaped from her scarf. Standing this close, he notices the top of her head comes just past his chin.

"Thank you, but I have made peace with my loss. I am simply happy to be able to assist her. She is a good woman." He glances over his shoulder and notices Mrs. Seward smiling at them through the window, then ducking out of sight.

"Much of the lower town has been puzzling over your arrangement, sir," she informs. Suddenly, her eyes widen as she realizes the brashness of her words. "I should not speak so. Forgive me."

"No, no, it doesn't bother me at all," he reassures her. "You are right, it is unusual. They are right. I'm no relation to Mrs. Seward, and, being a knight, your neighbors probably think I should be training or doing patrols." She nods, and he continues. "And, I do. But, I am also the queen's bodyguard, and since looking after her safety is more important, I am exempted from patrols. Unless there is an emergency, of course. I have time to come down here while the queen rests."

Violet nods again. "I think it is very kind of you to do chores for Mrs. Seward," she says, smiling shyly.

"It reminds me of home," he wistfully says. "I was not born to nobility, so simple tasks like fetching water and chopping wood come as easily to me as breathing."

"Oh," she says, realization dawning. "You are one of the group King Arthur returned with the first time Morgana attacked."

He nods. "I... I hope your family did not suffer much at her hands," he says.

She smiles again. "We have underground storage. Keeps things cool so they do not go bad as quickly. We hid there."

"Very clever," Percival smiles back.

"Violet!" Violet's mother calls from the doorway. "Stop bothering that knight! Your dough needs turning!"

"Coming, Mother," she calls back. "Thank you again for saving my nephew," she tells Percival.

"You are welcome. I... I'm glad to have finally gotten to speak to you. I've been wondering what your name is," Percival says. "And, now I know."

"Now you know," she answers, looking down again. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Sir Percival. Thank you for answering my somewhat impolite questions."

Percival smiles again. "You may ask me anything you like, Violet," he says. She blinks in surprise, smiling slightly, and curtseys to him. To her amazement, he bows slightly in return, as if she were a Lady.

When he returns two days later, she brings him a loaf of bread and a honey cake as a gesture of gratitude from her family.

The next week, he hovers outside for a moment, hoping to speak to her again. She spies him outside and makes up an excuse to go out to meet him. Three days after that, it is she who hovers.

The following week, he brings her some violets (after asking the queen to help him find some). Their fingers touch when she takes them from him and they both feel a strange, wonderful wobble in their stomachs. He boldly brushes a spot of flour from her cheek and her eyes flutter closed at his touch.

He does not kiss her hand until after he has officially met her parents and older brother. They've stopped trying to "accidentally" run into one another and are more open about their intentions.

More than a month has passed. Percival walks past the bakery, glancing inside out of habit. He sees Violet is alone, and quietly enters.

"Where is everyone?" he asks, watching her strong arms pushing and turning a large ball of dough.

"Mother and father are below. Howard is in the marketplace with Evelyn and Baxter," she tells him.

"Mmm." Percival walks over to her, gently cups her face in his hands, and kisses her once. It is a relatively quick kiss, but it is so soft and sweet that it felt much slower. He gazes deep into her brown eyes, wipes a smudge of flour from her cheek, and tucks the perpetually-stray lock of hair back into her scarf just as they hear her parents' footsteps. He bows to her and is out the door before her parents appear, a broad grin on his face, leaving Violet standing with her hands still stuck in the dough, slightly dazed but also grinning.

"Was that Sir Percival?" he hears Violet's mother ask as he starts back to the castle.

-The Story of Leon and Mithian-

"That is a fine crossbow."

Sir Leon looks up from his task, repairing the broken string on his favorite crossbow. He blinks, seeing only a silhouette haloed by the bright morning sunlight, but the voice is familiar. He moves to stand, but she stops him.

"Please, stay seated. Is that..." Queen Mithian steps closer, bringing her face into focus, "...ash?"

"Fifty-year-old ash, my lady," Leon says, finding his voice. He holds the weapon up for her inspection.

As she reaches for it, she remembers her guard, who is standing a bit awkwardly to the side. "You may go, Sir Eric. I'm certain I will be quite safe in the company of the First Knight of Camelot," she says, turning towards Sir Leon to grasp the crossbow.

"Yes, my lady," the guard nods. He gives Leon a curious look, then walks towards the stables.

"This is a beautiful weapon," she declares, holding it up, positioning it as if to shoot. "Straight and true. You must have brought down much quarry indeed with this crossbow."

"Yes, my lady," Leon answers without a trace of arrogance. "Though, I must say it looks a tad… bulky… in your hands," he adds, smiling.

"Please, call me Mithian, Sir Leon," she says, smiling. She hands him the weapon. "And, you are correct. I do prefer the crossbow I have at home. It is lighter, with a slenderer stock."

"You know my name, my lady," Leon comments, mildly surprised, setting the crossbow down and standing. He finds he is very pleased she remembers him.

"Of course I do," she says, lifting her chin to look up at him. Goodness, he's tall. "I was almost your queen, if you recall," she adds, smiling.

"Oh. Um. Yes. Of course. Forgive—"

She chuckles warmly. "I was teasing, Sir Leon," she says. She reaches out and touches his arm, but quickly withdraws it. "Arthur is married to the correct woman, and I harbor no feelings of resentment towards him or Gwen." When Mithian first met Guinevere she was anxious about meeting the "daughter of a blacksmith" who so completely ensnared Arthur's heart, but quickly discovered she wasn't half as anxious as Arthur was about the two women meeting. Luckily, she found herself unable to dislike or feel bitterness towards the Queen of Camelot in any way, and the two women quickly became friends. Mithian had no trouble acknowledging that a marriage between Arthur and her would have been a very large mistake.

Leon smiles, not sure what to say. He wants to ask her if she is happy, if she has found love after being turned away by Arthur, but he knows these are inappropriate questions. "Well, you did gain Gedref, so it wasn't a total loss," he answers, immediately feeling immensely stupid.

"Yes," Mithian answers, briefly looking down at her hands.

There is a moment of awkward silence. Leon clears his throat.

"Forgive me, my lady, it was not proper for me to have spoken so," he apologizes, fearing he has caused offense.

Mithian looks up at him. "You said nothing that was not true," she says. He doesn't look any happier, so she adds, "Besides, it takes a lot more than that to offend me." Then, she smiles at him. He shyly smiles back, and she puts her hands on her hips, regarding him regally. "If you still feel you have spoken out of turn, you may make it up to me by giving me a tour of the training grounds and armory," she declares. "And, call me Mithian, as I have asked."

Leon smiles brighter. "It would be my honor…" his smile becomes just a bit mischievous, "my lady."

Mithian raises an eyebrow at him, but she is smiling and turns to take his offered arm.

On the training field, she watches young boys, future Knights of Camelot, learning to be squires and training with Percival.

"Teach me something," she challenges, and Leon, delighted to grant the queen's wish, reaches for a quarter staff. She listens with interest when he explains that, while it is nothing more than a long stick, it is a useful weapon to know because of the prevalence of things resembling long sticks all around.

"A tree branch. A candle stand. Even a royal scepter, if you have one," he elaborates, listing examples.

He truly cares about my well-being, she realizes, noting he could have just as easily shown her the mace lying nearby or some other, less practical, weapon.

Leon demonstrates to the visiting queen how to properly wield the staff, showing her what he can, given her attire. He takes care to say, "With your permission," each time he touches her hand or arm, as well as when he must stand behind her in order to guide her arms into the correct position.

Mithian notices his hands are strong and rough from battle, but well-manicured and clean as befitting nobility. She notices how reassuring his warm, solid presence is behind her.

Leon notices she listens closely, learns quickly, and appears to be without pretense. He notices her hair smells of roses and is soft against his cheek when he accidentally got too close.

"Thank you," she says in a low voice, handing him the staff after they have finished. "I shall remember what you have taught me."

"I pray you never have a need to use this knowledge," he answers, bowing slightly.

They stand and regard one another a moment, but the silence is no longer awkward. Something has shifted, and the air feels charged between them.

"Show me the armory?" she asks, taking his hand this time.

In the armory, she impresses him with her knowledge of crossbows and hunting techniques. He listens attentively, though she tells him nothing he does not already know.

"I remember your enthusiasm to join the hunt on your first visit here, my lady," he says. She sits on a bench, so he sits beside her. "I also remember not expecting to be impressed with your participation," he adds, "but I was."

If she wasn't a queen, he would have taken her hand. He might have even kissed her. His fingers twitch on his leg, wanting to feel her soft alabaster skin and shining mahogany hair again.

But, mindful of his station, he does nothing other than pour everything he can, all the unexpected affection he feels welling up inside him, into his words and eyes. He curls his hand into a fist.

"Thank you, Leon," she says, noticing his closed hand. Slowly, she reaches for it, and he accepts the invitation, clasping her small hand gently in his.

Emboldened, he lifts her hand. It hovers two inches from his lips. "With your permission... Mithian," he whispers.

She nods, his warm breath sending tingles up her arm. When he raises her hand further and softly presses his lips to her knuckles, she quietly gasps, growing warm.

"You are a remarkable woman," Leon murmurs, quickly kissing her hand once more before he loses his nerve. "You honor me by your presence."

Mithian smiles and looks down, her long lashes dark against her pale skin. "Camelot is lucky to have a man such as yourself keeping her safe," she answers, looking up at him. "Quite lucky, indeed," she adds. She smiles warmly at him, wishing he would kiss her, wondering if his beard is soft or prickly, wondering if she should kiss him because she knows he will not.

"Thank you, my lady," he answers, his thumb skimming her knuckles.

"Mithian," she corrects, and her smile broadens.

-The Story of Gwaine and Elena-

"Show yourself," a voice calls out, causing Princess Elena to slow her horse to a stop.

She skillfully turns the mare and sees one of the Knights of Camelot regarding her. It's that one. The handsome, mischievous one. "Have I traveled a forbidden path, Sir Knight?" she asks, angling her head at him as she lowers the hood of her cloak.

The morning sunlight shines in her golden hair, and Sir Gwaine blinks momentarily, stunned. "Princess Elena?" He moves his stallion closer. "You should not be out in the woods un-escorted."

"Oh, pish," she dismisses. "These woods are perfectly safe at this time of day. In fact... I am quite surprised to see you up and about at such an early hour," she says, raising a challenging eyebrow at him, a crafty smile creeping across her face.

"Oh, is that so?" he returns, grinning despite himself. Then, he shrugs. "It is rather easy to be up and about at such an early hour when one has not yet been to bed," he casually says.

She laughs, and it warms his heart. She is quite beautiful. And quick-witted.

"Oh, so you simply roll yourself out from under the table in the tavern and report for duty? Conduct very becoming a Knight of Cam—"

"I've been up all night on patrol, my lady," Gwaine interrupts. He's still grinning, though he's not sure why. "I plan on soundly passing out on my bunk within the hour."

"Oh," she says, sounding a bit disappointed.

"My lady?" Gwaine asks, intrigued.

"Forgive me Sir Knight..."

"Gwaine," he corrects.

"Sir Gwaine," she says, smiling, "I am merely disappointed that you are likely too fatigued to engage in a rigorous morning activity with me."

What? Gwaine blinks. "My lady?" he repeats, gaping.

She laughs. "I meant to challenge you to a race. I did best your king on my last visit here, you know. I am looking for a worthy opponent, but... since even the king could not beat me... though he was still the prince at the time..."

"Oh, it's a race you want, then?" Gwaine asks, slowly tightening his horse's reins in his hands. "Very well, I accept—go!"

With that, he spurs his horse into motion, and takes off like a shot.

"Oh!" Elena exclaims as she prods her horse to break into a run, taking off after him. In moments, she is overtaking him, her laughter ringing out as she flies by.

Gwaine is impressed and intrigued, but his competitive nature won't let him concede defeat just yet. But, how can she still be gaining distance?

He only catches up to her because she has stopped by the river, unable to go any further.

"It seems I am still undefeated," she says, dismounting and leading her horse to drink from the river.

"It seems so," Gwaine answers, following suit. "However, I believe you had the advantage, as my horse and I have been on patrol all night."

"Yes, I heard you the first time," she teasingly says, startling when she turns to find him right beside her. "However, you also attempted to cheat."

"Didn't do any good," he says, grinning as he flips his hair from his face.

"No, it didn't," she answers, attempting to step back a bit, as he has somehow gotten very close.

"So... congratulations on your victory, Princess," he says, his voice low. "May I give you a reward?"

Elena stops, her eyes wide as she looks at him. She can't move any further back because her horse is in the way, and the bold knight has closed the distance between them again. "Reward?" she whispers.

Gwaine nods, then dips his head towards hers. He is careful to move slowly enough to allow her an escape if she wants it. He may be a bit of a scoundrel, but he's no cad.

Thankfully, she doesn't escape. In fact, she lifts up to meet him as his lips close softly over hers.

He intended for it to be a small, simple kiss. Almost a kiss between friends. But, when her arms slowly come up to circle his neck, he answers by wrapping his arms around her, pulling her closer. With a quiet groan, he deepens the kiss, and she responds in kind, sliding her tongue against his as her hand delves into his hair.

He gently pulls back all too soon and finds himself staring down into her wide hazel eyes. "I'm sorry… I only intended…" he stammers, uncharacteristically flushing red. I have never apologized for kissing someone before.

Elena silences his apology with a quick kiss. "I know what you intended," she says. "I had something else in mind." Then, she laughs and skitters away, ducking out of his embrace to crouch by the river for a drink.

Gwaine watches her, his heart thudding in his chest. Suddenly, he knows. He knows why Arthur couldn't marry this woman. Or Mithian. He knows why Guinevere refused his advances that day in the lower town.

Suddenly, it all makes sense.

Chapter Text

Much can happen over the course of two years.

Arthur and Guinevere now know everything Merlin had done (or attempted to do) for them during the years he hid his magic. It was a gradual, seemingly endless process, because just when Merlin thought he had remembered everything, he would remember something else.

Similarly, the final detail of Guinevere's enchantment came to light quite unexpectedly one evening. Merlin had been meeting with the king and queen in the royal chambers, and as he was leaving, Ella and some other servants arrived with the needed items for the queen's bath. Merlin wasn't sure if it was the bath, the burgundy dress the queen was wearing, the bouquet of gillyflowers on the table, or some combination of those things that suddenly made him recall Daegal, the young boy sent to lure him from Camelot so Guinevere could arrange to have Arthur killed without Merlin's interference.

They were all relieved to discover Guinevere was only aware of Daegal's role in removing Merlin from Camelot. She had no idea Morgana had attempted to poison and kill Merlin in the forest or that Daegal had died helping to save the king.

"It seems she did not tell me any more than what was necessary," Guinevere mused, frowning. "But, it is good to know I wasn't directly involved in another attempted murder." She apologized to Merlin, hugging him tightly. Merlin, of course, assured her he did not hold her responsible at all.

No longer under Morgana's shadow, Camelot has been peaceful and thriving. The laws regarding magic are well in place now, and Aithusa is a regular and surprisingly comforting sight as she soars overhead. She has become well-acquainted with her king and queen, and proudly wears a red leather collar with a medallion bearing the Pendragon crest. When Queen Guinevere presented the item to Aithusa, she explained that the collar and medallion identifies her as an important member of Camelot's army, and will let any who encounter her know to whom her loyalties lay.

Merlin's circle of magical allies is well in place, with everyone having their role as best befitting his or her abilities. Mordred continues to be Merlin's right-hand man and is well-respected by all, magical and non-magical alike. He and Kara will be married before the end of the year.

Kara has taken over Gaius' duties full-time and is officially the Court Physician. Avery, the former kitchen maid, is her assistant. The first thing they did was thoroughly clean, reorganize, and redecorate the physician's quarters, making their surroundings tidier and more attractive.

Gaius chose to retire when he could no longer deny the fact that his memory was failing. One morning, he saw Hunith carrying Gwydre and greeted her warmly. Then, he called Gwydre "Merlin" and quietly asked her if she had heard from Balinor. Hunith gently said no, she hadn't, holding in her tears, then rushed to find Merlin. Merlin, Arthur, and Guinevere met with the elderly physician and gently recommended he step down. At first, Gaius resisted, but when Merlin related back to him what had happened that morning with Hunith, Gaius nodded solemnly, even stating that Kara was ready to take over for him. Merlin then told Gaius Alice had agreed to return to Camelot to look after him. The old man smiled, grateful to Merlin for tracking down his long-lost love.

Gilli returned to Camelot when the twins were six months old, requesting to join Merlin's faction. He brought warm greetings from Alator and a parchment confirming that Gilli had his mentor's blessing to stay with Merlin if he would welcome him. Overloaded with work, Merlin immediately made the young man his assistant and gave him several menial tasks he himself had been putting off doing. Gilli was thrilled.

Like Kara, Sefa has worked hard to prove herself trustworthy, doing everything she could to show her king and queen she has changed. Away from her father's evil influence, the sweet, caring person Sefa truly is was able to shine through. Out from under her father's thumb, the Druid maiden discovered she was smarter than he had always led her to believe, and blossomed under her new circumstances.

Sefa seemed to have a way with children, and now tutors the ones with magic who wish to study and develop their gifts. The exception, of course, is Prince Gwydre, who will take lessons with Merlin when he is old enough to begin them in earnest. Merlin helps him as much as he can, mainly attempting to teach the toddler how to control his magical impulses.

Perhaps the most surprising development is Merlin had found himself growing more and more intrigued by the "new" Sefa, this young woman who was and was not the girl he knew. There had been some innocent flirting between them when she was the queen's handmaiden, but after she returned and her true self had emerged, Merlin suddenly realized he saw Sefa as a beautiful, intelligent woman. He fought his feelings, fearing them inappropriate, fearing them unrequited, but doing so only made it more difficult to deny them.

With some gentle prodding from his first friend in Camelot, the queen, Merlin finally confessed his feelings to the young Druid woman, only to find his fears were completely unfounded.

They married a short time later, and eleven months after that, welcomed a beautiful, raven-haired baby girl with bright blue eyes, Fia Hunith, named for Sefa's and Merlin's mothers. Not surprisingly, their daughter has magic.

Of course, the biggest development during this two-year span is that Llacheu and Gwydre now have a baby sister, Arthes Ygraine. Named for Arthur and his mother, she is a beautiful cherub with dusky skin, wavy caramel-blonde hair, and eyes shaped like her mother's, but in her father's shade of blue. Like her mother, the princess needs no magic to charm everyone she meets. At only two months old, Arthes Pendragon already has half the kingdom eating out of the palm of her tiny hand. Including her two big brothers.

Llacheu and Gwydre clamor to see their sister as often as possible, giving her sloppy kisses on her cheeks and forehead, letting her grab their fingers, and trying to get her to smile. However, most of Arthes' still-rare smiles are saved for Arthur.

xXx

It is Princess Arthes' blessing and presentation, and it is just as grand an event as her brothers' ceremony two years past. Visitors pour into Camelot once again. Some are familiar and some are new.

Queen Annis died suddenly and peacefully in her sleep a year ago, so King Allard and Queen Merewald of Caerleon have returned to Camelot, this time bringing their six-year-old son, Prince Alistair, who was too young to make the journey two years prior. Ava, their one-year-old daughter, remained in Caerleon.

King Odin has returned as well, bringing his nephew and heir, Prince Maxwell. Age has softened the once-stern king's hard edges. Plus,the fact that his alliance with Camelot has proven itself to be mutually beneficial has made the grizzled king much more amiable on this visit.

King Olaf, Princess Vivian, and her husband, Rowan, have made the journey this time as well. Their daughter, who is just slightly younger than the twin princes, is too young for the trip, but as they missed the princes' blessing, they wished to attend this one. To everyone's relief, Vivian is a changed woman. No longer a spoiled, pampered, insufferable brat, her demeanor has been transformed into that of a mature, responsible woman to whom Olaf can pass the throne without fear of his kingdom collapsing under her care. She even apologized to Guinevere for how she treated her all those years ago and behaves towards Arthur in a pleasant and respectful manner as befitting a peer.

Queen Mithian has, of course, come to Camelot. She and her husband, King Leon, plan to stay the week so Leon can spend time with his family, friends, and comrades. It was a slow journey for them, as Mithian is expecting their first child, but the royal couple of Nemeth had no intention of missing the event.

Many were surprised when Leon left Camelot, but none could blame him, least of all Arthur. "Not a difficult decision, really. Stay here and remain First Knight until you can no longer lift a sword, or go off to be with your true love and become a king," he had simply said when Leon broke the news. "In all honesty, Guinevere and I are not surprised," Arthur had added. "Just, make certain you whip those knights of hers into shape, will you?"

"Of course, my lord," Leon had answered. "They'll be rivaling the Knights of Camelot in skill and strength in no time at all."

"Doubtful," Arthur replied, laughing and companionably clapping his soon to be former First Knight on the shoulder .

The first thing Leon did upon taking charge of the Knights of Nemeth was to do away with the odd chainmail veils on their helmets, declaring them "unsafe, unnecessary, and unsettling." This may have had something to do with the fact that when he tried on one of these helmets, his beard and the links of chainmail did not exactly get on .

Leon's departure left a vacancy in the ranks. The honored position of First Knight of Camelot was initially offered to Sir Percival, but he turned it down. He had no desire for command and was quite content to remain the Queen's Champion, a title normally reserved for the First Knight. Arthur, however, decided to make it a separate designation and honored Percival with it in recognition for his years of loyalty to the queen.

So, Percival continues to protect Queen Guinevere and train the youngest of the boys wishing to become knights, while his wife, Lady Violet, does her duty as one of Guinevere's two ladies-in-waiting. Percival and Violet have been married for a year and a half. They have already brought one strapping son into the world, and have recently announced they are expecting another. At only a year old, their son, Peyton, is nearly as big as the princes.

Guinevere's other lady-in-waiting is the former Princess Elena, now Lady Elena of Camelot. Since she is not heir to the throne of Gawant, it was easy for her to move to Camelot to be with Gwaine. They married shortly after Percival and Violet, but shortly before Leon and Mithian, and Gwaine has finally found the life he had been chasing.

In all his years of wandering and debauchery, it never occurred to him that what he craved was stability, security, and unconditional love. He had found all three in Elena, a woman whose wit and sense of adventure matches his own. He had even confessed his deepest, darkest secret to her: he is of noble birth. She appreciated his confiding in her, though she assured him it did not matter to her. She also gently persuaded him to tell Arthur the truth, stating it was only right for his king to know. Gwaine showed Arthur and Guinevere the ring he always wore on the chain around his neck. It bore the faded crest of Lord Owen of Essetir, a minor lord, but still a noble. The ring is the one item Gwaine kept when he left home.

Arthur was more surprised by the fact that Gwaine renounced his title than the fact Gwaine had a title. Gwaine explained that all he saw of nobility was corruption, cruelty, and abuse of power, and it sickened him. His father was killed in battle when he was very young, and the king refused aid to his mother. After his mother died, he chose to be penniless and good rather than rich and evil. Arthur understood completely, and even allowed he might have done the same if he were Gwaine. Guinevere stated she always saw the knight's inner nobility and was impressed by his integrity.

Sir Gwaine also humbly and graciously accepted the post of First Knight of Camelot. The appointment came as a shock to almost everyone, but Gwaine has proven himself a capable and trustworthy leader, and the men have continued to thrive under his command.

xXx

The blessing and presentation of Princess Arthes was a beautiful ceremony. Iseldir and the Druids returned once again to bestow their blessing upon the princess, and the judicious Druid leader declared that Arthes' beauty would only be surpassed by her wisdom and kindness. "Like her mother," Arthur had whispered, bringing a smile to Guinevere's lips.

Arthes was a very good baby throughout the entire ceremony. She was more interested in Geoffrey's beard than in the golden scepter, and briefly fussed during the shouts of "Long live Princess Arthes!"

The princes were as well-behaved as two-year-old twin boys can be at such an event. Gelda and Hunith stood on either side of them, holding their hands while the brothers held each other's hand in the middle. As soon as Arthur placed their sister in her bassinet, the boys started squirming. Arthur and Guinevere waved their sons over, deciding it would do no harm for their boys to join them while the people filed by to see their daughter. They started out with their father, one in each arm. Then, Llacheu wanted his mother. Two minutes after that, Guinevere was seated on her throne with both boys, their curly heads on her shoulders. Gwydre was the first to fall asleep.

The celebration feast was joyous and lasted well into the night as old friends caught up with each other and new friends were made.

Finally, after midnight, Arthur and Guinevere excuse themselves from the party. "Guinevere needs her rest, I'm afraid, and who am I to deny my queen?" Arthur stands and announces.

His statement is met with whistles and suggestive laughter from the area of the hall containing Gwaine and Merlin. Even Leon has a knowing smirk on his face, though he is quiet.

"All right, shut it, you lot," Arthur laughs, waving his hand at them. "Honestly, they're all married men now..." he mutters to a chuckling Guinevere as they exit.

"They're not wrong though, are they?" she asks, slyly looking up at him.

"Hmm? Wrong about...? Oh..." Arthur grins, stopping in the corridor to pull her into his arms. "I do hope not," he rumbles, leaning down to kiss her. "Especially because six weeks of waiting has become eight," he mutters against her lips, moving away just enough to speak.

"Nine," she corrects him. "We've been busy. Tired."

"Yes, well, we'll have to correct this situation," he says, nuzzling her nose once before gently pulling away. He takes her hand and they continue walking, a little faster, to their chambers.

Guinevere pauses outside the princes' room. "Let's look in on the children first," she says, biting her lip.

"Of course," Arthur agrees. "We have all night for ourselves; we can spare five minutes," he leans down and murmurs into her ear. "Nothing scheduled until noon tomorrow."

Guinevere smiles, kisses him, and they approach the doors. The guard on duty nods to them, and Arthur quietly pushes the door open. The single shaft of light from the corridor shines into the room, revealing one empty, rumpled bed and one bed containing two small boys lying facing each other. They mirror one another, even more identical that usual with their eyes closed. Llacheu's eyes have fully turned brown, while Gwydre's are bright blue, and this is the only way most people can tell them apart.

"Llacheu crawled in with Gwydre this time," Guinevere whispers, reaching down to brush the hair from Llacheu's forehead. Sometimes, they sleep in their own beds, but on nights where there is activity in the castle or stormy weather, one invariably crawls in with the other.

"Too much excitement," Arthur assesses, wrapping his arm around his wife's waist. Guinevere bends down and kisses each boy on the cheek and pulls the blanket up higher over their shoulders. Arthur leans down and kisses his sons' foreheads, softly ruffling their curls. "I wonder how old they'll be when they stop climbing into bed with each other?" he muses as they exit the room.

"Don't worry, they won't be of age and still sharing a bed," Guinevere reassures him.

"I was mainly thinking aloud, not worrying. I rather like that they are so close. I expect they'll want separate rooms eventually," he says.

Guinevere smiles at him and squeezes his hand, knowing Arthur's feelings come from having no real siblings growing up combined with a father who kept his distance. Morgana was around, but he didn't know she was his half-sister until they were adults, and though he always thought of her like a sister, she was often "too busy" to pay attention to him.

They enter Arthes' room next, taking care to be extra quiet. All three children are good sleepers, but the wet nurse they employ for overnight feedings is sleeping on a bed on one side of the room while the princess slumbers in her cot on the other. Arthes is on her back, her little arms flung over her head. Her lips, full like her mother's, are slightly parted while her tongue works inside her mouth as though she were suckling.

"She must be dreaming about eating," Guinevere whispers, smiling. "It's so darling when they do that."

Arthur gazes down at his little daughter, marveling at how his heart is able to stretch to allow three more souls inside along with Guinevere. He realizes it is a very different kind of love, but it doesn't make it any less amazing. He reaches down and gently strokes her soft cheek, then kisses it.

"You are so besotted with her," Guinevere chuckles, watching her husband ponder their daughter. "You are never going to be able to tell her 'No', are you?" She straightens her daughter's blanket, then leans over and kisses her forehead.

Arthur looks up. "Hmm? Oh, probably not," he admits. "But, that's why she has you."

"Arthur..."

"I'm joking, Love," he says. "I will endeavor to treat her as fairly as I treat her brothers," he assures her, his hand over his heart.

"I'll believe that the first time she misbehaves in your presence and I'm not around," Guinevere says, poking his shoulder as they exit the nursery.

"Ow," Arthur protests, feigning injury. "I said I would 'endeavor'. I made no promise."

Guinevere laughs, pulling him into their chambers.

He wraps her in his embrace again, stopping her laughter with his lips. He kisses her deeply and slowly, hands sliding across her back as she bunches his shirt in her fingers.

Arthur gently pulls away and tucks his head into her neck. She expects him to start kissing her there, but he doesn't. He simply holds her close, almost clinging to her.

"Arthur?" she asks, gently running her fingers into his hair. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he sighs. "Nothing at all." He lifts his head and draws her into the interior of their room. They sit on the bed, side by side. "It just... hits me sometimes."

"What does?" she asks. She toes her slippers off and turns toward him, lifting her knee up onto the bed.

"When I look at our life together, our children, you... I... I sometimes realize..." he shakes his head, correcting himself, "remember how close I came to losing you... and if I had lost you I wouldn't have Llacheu, Gwydre, and Arthes. I wouldn't have lifted the ban on magic. I would have... I would have let Camelot crumble... handed it to Morgana on a silver platter..."

"Arthur," Guinevere breathes, stretching up to wrap her arms around him. "Don't you see, Love? You didn't lose me. Because you are better than all the obstacles put in your way. Stronger." He leans against her, his head on her chest. "Morgana, Agravaine, even Uther... countless others, they all failed to defeat you. You prosper and thrive because you are meant to do so. What is it Merlin always likes to say? It's your destiny. You're meant to be King of Camelot. You're meant to be a great king. You are a great king." She leans down and kisses his head. "It was a bit of a bumpy road, but you have traveled it and lived to tell the tale."

Arthur sighs. "You have not lost your gift, Wife ," he says, looking up at her. "You always have the words to soothe my troubled heart." He sits upright, takes her hands in his, and lifts them to his lips.

"I simply speak what is in mine, Husband," she answers, smiling. "It is all I have ever done where you are concerned."

"And, I thank you for it. I don't believe I've ever properly thanked you. Your words are life to me, Guinevere. I know I can always confide in you and trust you with my whole heart." He kisses her hands again. "With all of me," he adds. He turns her hand and kisses her palm, then the inside of her wrist.

"Feeling better?" she asks as he kisses a path up her arm.

"Yes," he murmurs, "thank you. When I think of all we've been through," he pauses, kissing her collarbone, "it makes me appreciate all we have." He kisses her neck. "I try not to dwell on what could have happened, because, well... it didn't." He kisses her jaw. "But, I want you to know that I have learned from our experiences." He kisses her lips, lingering. "I take nothing for granted, because I know it could be gone – taken from me – without warning." He kisses her again, leaning into her, easing her back against the pillows. The servants had been in earlier to turn the bed back and prepare the room for them, but Arthur excused them for the evening, knowing Guinevere and he would be late.

"I'm not going anywhere," Guinevere whispers, sliding her hands over his shoulders.

"Neither am I," Arthur answers, his lips brushing her skin as he speaks. "I love you so much, Guinevere."

She catches his wandering lips with hers and kisses him ardently, one hand moving into his hair. "With all my heart," she breathes, pulling him closer, holding him.

"With all my heart," he answers, softly kissing her ear. "Always."