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Chapter Text

Sir Leon galloped his horse through the gates of Camelot, sweat beading his brow. People scrambled to get out of the way of the returning patrol, knowing that knights heading into the castle at that speed never bear good news. Leon slid from his horse at the steps, dropping his reins and leaving the horse for someone else to see to. He raced up the stairs, barking at the guardsman on duty, "Arthur?"

"In the audience chamber, Sir," responded the guardsman, hurriedly opening the door for the speeding knight.

Servants melted out of Leon's way and even knights took one look at his face and stepped aside, though they then followed if their business elsewhere was not urgent. Arthur was speaking to what looked to be a headman from one of the villages when Leon barged in. "Sire!" called Leon, before dropping to one knee to beg pardon for the interruption.

Arthur waved the peasant he'd been speaking to aside, well aware that Leon would never interrupt him unless the situation was urgent. The man bowed politely to one side, stepping out of the Prince's way. "Sir Leon?"

"King Olaf has landed at Gwynned and crossed our border with a party of over a hundred," said Leon, rising at Arthur's signal to do so. "I doubt they can arrive this evening but depending on how hard they push on they could be here by noon tomorrow and they are pushing."

"Odd of Olaf not to have announced a visit of state," said Arthur, though concern showed in his expression. Over a hundred was overlarge for such a visit.

"Caerleon is guesting a contingent of Olaf's knights and their men at Hawarden," continued Leon, "but the boats that brought them have returned to Rhegged, doubtless to bring another load. Whatever Olaf wants, if he doesn't like your answer, he's preparing to change it by force."

Arthur didn't hesitate. "Have a party of no less than forty go out to meet Olaf, at least ten of them knights. You lead it. Merlin…" Arthur turned to find the servant, but it was Cadby awaiting any orders. "Cadby, find Sir Marhaus and tell him we're having a banquet tomorrow: a hundred guests. Then see to it my armor's polished." Leon and Cadby left quickly on their tasks while Arthur motioned to the headman to approach him once more, meaning to finish the audience quickly and then attend to the defenses.

Arthur stood at the foot of the dais, his armor gleaming, his circlet adorning his hair, and a good sharp sword at his side. Knights waited along the walls of the throne room, in position to surround Olaf's men should hostilities break out. Both Merlin and Cadby waited off to one side to attend to Arthur's needs. Merlin had reappeared hours after the first alarm and when Arthur had demanded to know where he'd been, Merlin had simply answered, "Studying," which while unsatisfying at least sounded more truthful than some of his excuses. Unfortunately, the sorcerer could offer no more explanation of the Rheggian King's visit than anyone else.

Arthur heard horses in the courtyard and tugged at his gauntlets, wondering if Olaf meant to challenge him again. He set his expression, determined to show his knights nothing but confidence. He took the gauntlets off and hung them on his belt. The heavy stamp of booted feet sounded through the corridors along with a feminine shriek. Arthur barely had time to wonder what that could portend before a skinny blond woman, her hair in knots, dress wrinkled and held high burst into the room screaming his name.

"Vivian?" he gasped, wondering at the change in her. She'd lost weight and her pallor had nothing to do with makeup. Dark half-moons shadowed bulging eyes. She sprinted the length of the throne room and threw her arms around his neck, dragging him into a kiss, her body trying to press through his armor. Arthur had to step back to keep his feet at the force of the impact. He kept his hands away from her and tried to see around her for her father's reaction.

Olaf strode angrily across the floor, his face red and his jaw grinding with all the force of a millstone. Arthur tried to step away from Vivian, but she stuck to him like a barnacle on a rock, refusing to break the kiss. Olaf stared at them furiously for a moment before very deliberately removing his gauntlets and handing them to his head knight, Sir Granady, next to him, who looked equal parts anxious and distressed. Every word burning his throat, Olaf snarled, "Do what you can to calm her Arthur. I can do nothing with her. And watch your sword. She's pulled mine on me twice when she didn't get what she wanted." Then the King turned away trying not to see them, but unable to keep himself from furtive glances.

Arthur looked around at Olaf's knights as best he could around Vivian's head. Every man looked stretched to the breaking point as though they'd not had a decent night's sleep in months. Tense, taut and weary, they watched Arthur with dread and hope, perhaps their last.

Vivian's tongue insistently licked at Arthur lips, trying to find a way past his locked jaw, her body grinding against him as though trying to file away the armor between them. Arthur did the only thing he could think of and gave in, holding her gently and pressing back. If anything, the Lady' movements became more frantic. Arthur took hold of her hair at the nape of her neck, controlling the kiss, pressing her tongue back into her own mouth with his. He broke the kiss, holding her head in place with fingers twined in her tangles and pulling his own back.

"Is that what you wanted, Lady?" asked Arthur, looking down at her with deliberately soft eyes.

"Yes, Arthur, yes!" she screamed shrilly, grabbing at him and trying to pull his head back down.

Arthur stiffened his neck muscles. Keeping his voice soft and reasonable he said, "I really must talk to your father privately, Lady."

Vivian screeched, "Don't let him separate us, my Love! He'll tell you I'm mad and I am, mad for the love of you! I never want to see him again! Tell me we can be married at once, that you won't let him stop us this time. Tell me you love me!"

"Marri…?" breathed Arthur, trying desperately not to show how shocked he was at the thought. "I definitely need to speak to your father privately."

Vivian shoved him, her eyes so bright with insanity he didn't dare let her go. "No! You're the greatest warrior in Albion. How can you allow him to keep us apart? I've been waiting for months for you to come and rescue me from my imprisonment. Now we're together and we can never be parted again. Challenge him. Challenge my father for my hand. Then we can be together for all time!"

Shocked by her callousness, Arthur put his mouth close to her ear and she covered his cheek with kisses, but only because he still had a hold on her hair and wouldn't allow her to attach herself to his mouth again. He whispered, "Wouldn't you rather have your father alive to walk you down the aisle?"

Arthur winced at the volume she poured into his ear. "I don't care, I don't!"

"I care," said Arthur reassuringly. "Don't worry. No one will take you from Camelot if you've no wish to go. You have my word. But I must speak to your father privately."

"You promise?" she demanded. "You promise that no one will separate us?"

Arthur hesitated. "I promise that you will be my partner at dinner this evening. Beyond that, I must speak to your father." Arthur called Sir Leon to him. He turned Vivian to make introductions. "You remember Sir Leon, do you not, Lady? Sir Leon, you are to escort Lady Vivian until you return her to me this evening at dinner."

"Of course, Sire," said Sir Leon hiding any worry and offering the Lady his arm.

"No!" shrieked Vivian, cuddling into Arthur's side.

"Vivian, Sir Leon is my most trusted knight. Do you think I could send you even a room away with anyone less? But I must speak to your father and you must get ready for dinner." Arthur surveyed her up and down with some disapproval. "You're a little travel worn, my Lady. And I want there to be no doubt that the most beautiful Lady in the hall is on my arm. Otherwise, I'll have to waste a lot of time settling challenges when I've obviously better things to do?"

Now it was Vivian's turn to hesitate. "Just until dinner?"

"And we'll go walking afterward," promised Arthur, trying to sweeten the deal enough to gain her compliance.

Very well," she said, throwing back her tangled mane. "But I'm hungry. Dinner had better not be long." She reluctantly took Sir Leon's arm but watched Arthur with hungry eyes all the way out of the room. Four of Olaf's knights pulled their swords but instantly passed them to their fellows, who pointed them harmlessly at the floor. Four ladies curtseyed and fell in beside the disarmed knights, who followed after their Lady.

Arthur couldn't resist a sigh of relief as they vanished.

"That was well done," said Olaf grudgingly.

"What in the name of all that's holy was that about?" demanded Arthur.

"Oh, I think you have some idea, Arthur. Don't pretend innocence with me!" growled Olaf.

"King Olaf, even if I had a guess, I'd want an explanation."

"She's under a spell!" exploded Olaf. "Do you have any idea what I've been through this last year? And all this time, you had the answer, right here! Your sorcerer, Arthur. Uther wrote to me. He told me you'd hired a sorcerer. Had him for a while now haven't you?"

"You think my sorcerer put Vivian under a spell so she'd fall in love with me?" asked Arthur, the curl of his lip showing his disdain for any such project.

"No, no, no!" bellowed Olaf, waving his hands expressively. "It took me months to figure out she was under a spell, that it wasn't just some childish crush. More months to figure out who'd done it and catch the dastard."

"So you have him, then? The sorcerer who did it?" asked Arthur.

"I did," grumped Olaf, slumping with defeat. "For two months he tried to undo the spell. Said the counterspell didn't work. I gave him every reason to succeed. In the end, I killed him hoping the spell would dissipate with his death. It didn't work." Olaf eyed Arthur accusingly. "When I first caught him, he admitted that he'd cast love spells on both you and Vivian. I didn't pay attention to that detail at first. But you're not out of your head over my daughter. I don't think you even like her particularly. Somebody broke the spell on you. I even know when it happened. You weren't paying much attention during our first two matches. Quite frankly, I found it insulting. But the third match, that's when the warrior I'd been expecting showed up. In between the second and third match, someone broke the spell on you and I want him to do the same for my daughter immediately!"

Arthur sighed. "Immediately may not be possible but I'll certainly put him to work on it."

"Now see here, Arthur…" warned Olaf, stepping in to wave a finger in the younger man's face, but Arthur cut him off.

"Olaf, I very much want to help you. Please don't talk me out of it by making threats you don't want to carry out anyway." Olaf visibly swallowed what he'd started to say while the Prince continued, "I don't even know exactly what broke the spell on me. It was like the world had been upside down and I'd been thinking that was normal until everything suddenly righted itself. I was so confused I had to be told I was in a mortal fight with you."

"But he was there when you came out of it," persisted Olaf.

"Nearby," admitted Arthur. "I didn't know he was a sorcerer at the time. I've only known for a few weeks. He may have had something to do with it. He may not have. I'll have to ask."

"Don't you let him deny it," insisted Olaf, desperation edging his voice. "He must know something. He has to. Uther would help me."

Arthur stiffened. "Father is indisposed. I will help you. I'm sure something can be done."

Olaf gave a sharp bark of ironic laugher. "Indisposed? Is that the current euphemism for languishing in the dungeon?"

"Father isn't in the dungeon," Arthur said, irritated. "He's in his room. In fact, I'll even ask if he feels up to joining us for dinner. You said he wrote to you. Prisoners don't usually enjoy that privilege."

Olaf pulled a piece of parchment from his belt pouch. He considered it a moment before snapping it at Arthur.

Arthur accepted the offering gingerly, noting the broken seal was Uther's. He read it through quickly. Raising his head he asked, "Are you planning on acting on this?"

"Family quarrels are always so messy, Arthur," replied Olaf, though it was no reply at all.

At that moment a woman's high pitched scream tore through the hall and the King closed his eyes as though the sound stabbed him through the heart.

Arthur turned toward the source of the gut wrenching wails. "Does she do that often?" he whispered.

Olaf nodded. "Constantly. She screams, she wails, she throws things. We try to keep her away from blades, fire, and heights." When Olaf opened his eyes, they were brimming with tears. "I have to have my married knights stand guard with their wives inside her chamber. Her women can't handle her. She attacks people, refuses to bathe, wakes in the night and runs from her bed. She's tried to throw herself from the battlements. Arthur, one night she," his voice broke, "she set fire to her dress."

Arthur stepped forward and grasped King Olaf by the shoulders. "Olaf, I swear to you, if anything can be done it will be."

"You're a good man, Arthur. You'll keep your word," said Olaf, but he sounded like a man in need of convincing. "I want to meet this sorcerer of yours."

"I'll consider it," said Arthur warningly. "For now, leave this matter entirely in my hands. Cadby, escort King Olaf to his quarters and see to it he has everything he needs."

Cadby startled to be called upon instead of Merlin, but bowed to King Olaf and stepped forward, waiting to follow the monarch out as protocol indicated.

Olaf glanced at the letter still in Arthur's hands, but Arthur pulled it away an inch or two, just enough to show he intended to keep it. The King shrugged his shoulders in a huff, but strode out of the room, his men funneling after him. Arthur signaled several of the knights to keep an eye on their guests, but waved Sir Marhaus toward him.

Marhaus approached half guiltily. They watched the last of Olaf's men disappear before Marhaus said, "You hadn't forbidden the King from writing to anyone, Sire. I saw no reason why he shouldn't. I didn't imagine he'd write anything that would cause trouble, a lack of imagination on my part, I suppose."

"How many letters went out?" asked Arthur, requesting only the facts.

"Other than those to the Lady Morgana, three," responded Marhaus, "to Rodor, Godwyn, and Olaf."

"None of whom would be likely to attack Camelot alone. They don't have the forces. They'd have to league together."

Marhaus startled. "You think they would? They're all allies of Camelot."

"They're allies of Uther," corrected Arthur. "Father's letter claims I'm under a spell and asks Olaf to save us both. I imagine the same request went to Rodor and Godwyn. Olaf's probably communicated with the other two. Clearly he feels there is danger here or his men wouldn't be massing in Gwynned. If I can't convince Olaf that the problem is all in Father's head we'll be under attack in a few days, maybe as long as a month if Olaf thinks enough of our defenses."

The older knight paled visibly. "Sire, I apologize…"

Arthur held up a hand, cutting him off. "It will help if my sorcerer can break this spell. As for you, see to it that the feast tonight is spectacular, if you have to buy every pie in Camelot." Sir Marhaus bowed as Arthur swept out, Merlin trailing his master. The Prince strode rapidly through the castle and took the stairs two at a time to the roof. He tore open the door at the top and stepped out into sunshine. Sentries placed at various corners took note of the Regent's presence and straightened to attention, their eyes scanning the horizon to the castle walls, searching for any signs of trouble. Arthur ignored them and leaned both arms against a crenel in the middle of the wall, as far away from any of the sentries as possible, looking off into the distance himself.

Merlin came up beside him and folded his hands on the crenel as well.

"It's very inconvenient having to say 'my sorcerer' all the time," said Arthur inconsequentially.

"Then say 'Emrys'," replied Merlin softly, knowing that a quiet conversation would not be overheard. "That's what the druids call me."

"Druids," snorted Arthur. "Can you do it?"

"I can tell you everything I know about breaking that spell in three words, Arthur: true love's kiss."

Arthur looked at Merlin sidelong. "So you really didn't have anything to with breaking the spell?"

Merlin shrugged, a smile tugging the corners of his mouth. "I knew where to find your one true love. I only had to talk her into kissing you. I don't even know if Vivian has a true love."

Arthur turned to face his servant fully. He hissed, "What do you mean you had to talk her into it?"

"You were in the middle of a death match over another woman, Arthur." Merlin whispered with a glint in his eye, "The situation was a little embarrassing."

Arthur shivered uncomfortably and made a face as though tasting something rancid. "I have dreams about that kiss. You are not a part of them."

Merlin laughed lightly. "That's a relief."

Arthur leaned toward him, leering. "All right, if you know all about my 'one true love' where's yours?"

Now it was Merlin's turn to look uncomfortable. "You killed her, Arthur."

The Prince drew back sharply at the calm accusation.

"You didn't really have any choice," Merlin quickly assured him. "She was turning into a monster at night and killing people. But if I'd just had a few days, I think I could have broken the curse." Merlin sighed. "She was so beautiful. She was even pretty as a monster."

Arthur's brow furrowed in thought. "You wouldn't by any chance mean that bat-winged cat thing…?"

Merlin nodded, a fond smile gracing his lips.

"You need to meet more girls," said Arthur, turning away with his eyes popping.

"All the girls I've liked have had magic, and they usually turn out to be villains. Girls who don't have magic just aren't interesting to me. And considering that Uther's been killing anyone with magic for a quarter of a century, living in Camelot is a little like living in a monastery as far as I'm concerned."

Arthur boggled at his friend. "Spend some more time with Gwaine. I'll bet he can dig someone up for you. After you cure Vivian."

"Like I said, I don't even know if she has a true love."

"Find out," commanded Arthur over his shoulder, abruptly striding away and disappearing down the stair.

Arthur hadn't gone directly to Olaf after talking to Merlin, knowing that he needed to protect his sorcerer's identity. So he waited until the hour of the feast to knock on Olaf's door. Two of Olaf's men stood guard outside and stopped him from actually knocking, one of them staring intently while Arthur waited and the other stepped inside to announce him. The Regent had hardly stepped through before Olaf demanded, "Well, have you seen him?"

"I have," confirmed Arthur, uncomfortable at being his servant's messenger. "And he admits he had something to do with breaking the spell, though he didn't break it himself."

"But he knows how?" Olaf demanded desperately.

Arthur wet his lips. "You wouldn't happen to know who Vivian's one true love is, would you?"

Olaf's voice cracked like a whip, "What?"

"That's what she needs; a kiss from her one true love, which is certainly not me."

Olaf thundered, "And what am I supposed to do, have every man in my kingdom kiss my daughter?"

"He's working on a way to identify the man. I thought it would be easier if you already knew who he was."

Olaf paced away from Arthur and back again. He looked into Arthur's eyes and away again. "Damaris," he hissed.

"Damaris?"

"He kissed her once. I chased him out of Rhegged for it and she sulked for a month. He could be the one."

"That would make it easier. Do you know where he is?" asked Arthur mildly.

"Mercia," replied Olaf through a mouthful of bile. "He joined Bayard's service when I made it clear I'd no longer have him in mine."

"I'd suggest you send for him then."

Olaf grimaced. "Damaris," he said bitterly. "It goes against my honor to send for a man I banished, Arthur."

"She needs a kiss. You don't have to marry them, Highness," said Arthur and the bitterness in his tone made Olaf consider him carefully.

"This woman who broke the spell for you, Arthur… I notice you aren't engaged?" the King asked tentatively.

Arthur looked away briefly before giving Olaf his full attention. "The Lady in question is not of sufficient rank that my Father would ever allow our marriage. I know my duty to Camelot, as does she. When the time comes, I will make an alliance marriage. I would appreciate it if you would not mention this to my Father. If he were to realize the existence of such a person… Father can sometimes… go rather… overboard."

"Ah," said Olaf, nodding his understanding. "That couldn't have anything to do with you locking Uther in his room, could it?"

"No," said Arthur firmly. "I locked Father in his room because he's so far gone as to break his word to me and lock me in the dungeon while claiming that those who've saved him from Morgana's treachery are to blame for attacking her - knights as well as sorcerer."

While Arthur was speaking, Vivian started screaming again, from just down the corridor. She'd done this several times in the last couple of hours, enough that Arthur's nerves were beginning to fray because of it. If this was what Olaf and his people had had to put up with for the last year, Arthur could understand why they all looked emotionally wrung out, left to dry, and then stomped into the mud.

"I'll send for Damaris," whispered Olaf.

"There's a good inn at Riverton, only a couple of hours up a good enough road to travel even in the dark," said Arthur, anxious to guest Olaf's daughter no longer than necessary. "If your knights left now, they could sleep there tonight, get an early start in the morning."

"I'll give the order," agreed Olaf.

Arthur followed him out. Squaring his shoulders, the Prince passed the King and approached Vivian's door, listening to her screech from within, "I want Arthur! He promised he would be with me at the feast! He promised! What keeps my love? Surely Father cannot be so obstinate." Arthur rapped at the door and opened it without waiting for an answer. Inside was a scene as macabre as any Arthur had ever witnessed. One of Vivian's ladies knelt in corner sobbing and bleeding from a cut on her neck. A knight stood in front of the woman, his hand comfortingly on her shoulder, but his wary gaze turned to the Lady Vivian. Her ladies had at least gotten Vivian into a clean dress, but her hair still hung in tangles. Two of Olaf's knights held her arms pinned and Sir Leon stood before her, bleeding from fresh scratch marks on his face, trying to reassure her that Arthur would indeed come to take her to the feast. His knight looked at Arthur with undisguised relief to see his Prince.

Arthur felt both ill that he had let Vivian leave Camelot the year before under this spell without making any effort to relieve her of it and angry that she should be allowed to abuse her people like this. The plan forming in his mind to get some peace for the next few days until Damaris could appear did nothing to allay the feeling of illness, but he couldn't let her continue this way.

Vivian kicked harder when she saw him and redoubled her efforts to throw off the knights holding her. "Arthur!" she screeched.

Arthur motioned to the knights to release her. They did so gladly and the Lady rushed to throw herself at him. He seized her wrists and held her away from him, struggling. Letting his anger show, Arthur growled, "I see you are not yet ready for my feast, Lady." He threw her backwards and she stumbled opened mouthed back into one of the Rheggian knights, who caught but did not hold her. "I will return in a quarter of an hour and if your hair is not properly combed, I will take it that you are only interested in embarrassing me and you can take dinner in your room."

"My Love!" Vivian protested.

"You have a funny way of showing it, Lady," he returned coldly. "My Father insists I marry a future Queen. Do you think I can gain permission to marry if you act like a harridan?"

"We don't need permission!" she squealed.

He crossed his arms over his chest. Derisively, he asked, "So you would have me give up my kingdom? Ride off with you into the sunset and live on air and sunbeams?"

"All we need is each other, My Love," she insisted, approaching him again more cautiously.

This time he caught her around the waist, pulling her close and fighting the disgust he felt at the game he was playing. In a low voice he rumbled, "Perhaps all a woman needs is love, but a man needs respect. Would you make me a laughingstock or an object of admiration, my Lady?"

"I admire you," she breathed. "Is that not enough?"

"No," he said firmly. "It isn't, because it isn't enough to simply be, like the wildflowers in a grove. One must do, strive, become, else what is the point of living? You would grow bored of me in time."

"Never!" she screeched.

"A man who does nothing grows soft, fat, and boring, Lady. In another year, I would loose your love." He stroked her hair.

"I will love you until the end of time," she vowed.

"Then show me that and help me keep my kingdom," he purred.

"I will, I will. At once My Love," she whirled away and screeched at her ladies to bring her combs.

The Lady in the corner looked up at the knight standing above her with haunted eyes. Arthur took pity on her and ordered Sir Leon to escort her to the Court Physician. Then he settled his back against a wall to wait.

Uther Pendragon tried not to grit his teeth as he strode through the corridors of his castle, his crown on his head, his cloak trailing out behind him and two knights following behind as jailers rather than escort. Uther wanted to scream and shout, break and run; anything to deny his current situation, but he was too good a politician to try it. The last thing he wanted to do was sit at a feast given by his son in his castle and behave himself. Arthur was a strong leader, he'd proven that, but he wasn't yet the master politician Uther was and this feast would give Uther the forum he needed to prove to the knights that he wasn't crazed and regain their loyalty. Arthur's sorcerer might have been able to weave some spell designed to influence the knights, make them more susceptible to Arthur's treachery (no doubt brought on by that self-same sorcerer), but magic could only hold sway for so long.

Uther needed this gathering to assess the overall mood of the knights, discover the impetus for their betrayal. So he would nod and smile (slightly) and behave, while he listened and before this night was through, he planned to have his castle and knights back under his control. He'd have to lock Arthur up for his own safety while Uther directed the search for the sorcerer personally. But no doubt his son would be grateful once the spell was broken and Uther would accept his apologies graciously.

Horns blew, knights rose and ladies curtsied at Uther's entrance to the great hall. Never had Uther seen so subdued a gathering in his hall, though why it should be Rhegged's knights who seemed more strained, Uther could not fathom. Surely, the quietude could only be due to the magic currently holding his heir and kingdom hostage. A servant pulled out Uther's accustomed chair. At least Arthur wasn't going to try to embarrass him by making him move over for his son, though who knew what humiliations the evening had in store. Uther reminded himself that such traps could be sidestepped with good humor and carefully chosen words, though he couldn't be certain what he would do if the sorcerer actually made an appearance.

Uther frowned slightly. He'd waited long enough that he should have arrived after Arthur, but his son was not yet in the hall. King Olaf already occupied the place to his left and had risen as was proper etiquette when Uther arrived at the head table. Uther gave him a nearly genuine smile. "Olaf!" he said, holding open his arms to engulf his brother monarch in a hug. As Olaf patted his back in greeting, Uther whispered, "Did you get my message?"

Olaf released Uther smiling, for the benefit of the crowd. "Of course. It's good to see you out and about. You had me worried that I would find you in much worse straights."

"Bad enough," replied Uther, putting his head together with Olaf's as soon as they were seated.

"I've asked to see the sorcerer," Olaf confided.

Uther nodded, grateful that Olaf was acting on his behalf. "You must be careful. Obviously, this one is both powerful and crafty."

Horns blew again, this time announcing Arthur's entrance with the Lady Vivian hanging on his arm. Uther noted that the girl looked as though she was recovering from a long illness, and that he should remember to ask Gaius about it later. He'd not have Arthur coming down ill; it would only make him more susceptible to the sorcerer's magic. Olaf started to rise and Uther clamped a hand on his arm. Olaf frowned at the restraining hand but settled back.

Arthur handed Vivian into her chair before bowing to Uther. "Father," acknowledged the Prince.

Uther gave his son only the barest of nods. Arthur took his seat at Uther's right and the rest of the knights and ladies also found their places. A server filled Uther's goblet and he lifted it to his lips, considering his son. Arthur looked well, if a little strained. The King hoped that meant his son was fighting against whatever enchantment had turned him against his sire.

Uther looked beyond Arthur to greet the Lady Vivian with a regal smile. "Lady Vivian, how wonderful to see you back in my court," he said noncommittally.

Vivian had reattached herself to Arthur's arm and peered around the Prince with wide eyes and pinched lips. She didn't answer Uther but instead screeched at Arthur, "You see my Love, your father won't interfere between us. It's only my father that objects to our marriage." She cuddled against Arthur's arm and whimpered, "All your friends are assembled and an evening wedding would be lovely. Can we not have the ceremony at once?"

Uther's jaw dropped at the assertion. Arthur was looking off into the distance while chewing on the inside of his lip and trying to dig the Lady's fingers out of his arm. He hardly looked like a man in love. "Arthur, have you proposed marriage to Lady Vivian?" demanded Uther.

Arthur gave him a sharp look and a tight shake of his head, while Olaf clamped down a quelling hand on Uther's arm, but it was Vivian who answered. "Arthur waits for your blessing like the dutiful son he is, but I am sick of waiting. I want my Love, I need my Love. Nothing can keep us apart, nothing will."

She tried to stroke Arthur's face and he grabbed her hand, pulling it away, and keeping it captured. "Vivian, we discussed this. You will have to wait a little longer. Now settle down and just have your dinner. Merlin! The Lady's hungry."

Merlin was already behind Arthur with a well filled plate he'd been waiting to serve Arthur, but he couldn't get between Prince and Lady to place it. He set it in front of the Lady instead, his eyes dancing and his lips pursed with withheld laughter at his Lord's predicament.

"What is food?" crooned Vivian, actively fighting to get closer to Arthur now, while the Prince used both hands to fend her off. "When my Love is near, I have no need of food, or water, or air."

"Vivian!" objected Olaf.

"Vivian!" warned Arthur. "You'll stop this at once or you're going back to your room." Vivian pouted and sank her head onto Arthur's chest. Arthur awkwardly patted her back, took her by the shoulders and sat her up in her chair.

Merlin was quick to get Arthur's plate in between them while he could but Vivian knocked it out of his hands and splattered it all over his chest.

"It is you I want," insisted Vivian, her hands once again curling around Arthur's arm. "How can you deny our love? How can you let anyone keep us from the happiness that is our right?"

"Arthur?" asked Uther, shocked by the Lady's behavior.

"Vivian, please," begged Olaf, rising.

"Yes, a bit of decorum, young Lady," said Uther warningly. "I certainly can't countenance such a match as you desire if you display such an appalling lack of manners."

Vivian screeched and grabbed up her knife, climbing onto the table in her rage and rush to get to Uther. Arthur rose and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her off the table.

Olaf seized Uther by the shoulders and jerked him from his seat, crying out, "I did warn you about keeping her away from knives, Arthur."

Vivian plunged the knife down, slicing Arthur's skin just above his wrist. Merlin jumped forward and grabbed her wrists, forcing the knife up as she kicked and writhed and tried to drive the blade into the servant.

A whispered word and a flash of gold Arthur fervently hoped that only he had seen and Vivian collapsed in Arthur's arms. "Gaius!" called the Prince as Merlin stepped back and Arthur lowered the Lady to the floor.

Olaf knelt at his daughter's side. "Is she…?"

"She's only fainted, Olaf. Don't panic," barked Arthur, standing to surrender his place to Gaius. Merlin took hold of his wrist to examine the wound. Arthur shrugged him off and snapped his fingers at his servant. Merlin rolled his eyes and handed his master a serviette to stem the bleeding. Arthur wrapped it inexpertly around his arm.

"She sleeps only, Highness," confirmed the physician. "She should be taken back to her chambers."

"And locked in," ordered Uther. "Olaf, you owe me an explanation."

Olaf rose swiftly. Red-faced, he confronted the other monarch, poking him in the chest with one finger. Through gritted teeth, he snarled, "She's under a spell, a spell placed on her in your court a year ago!"

Arthur helped one of her attendant knights lift Vivian from the floor. The impromptu bandage fell away from his arm, but Arthur took no notice. The knight nodded his thanks and carried the sleeping lady away.

Uther's face turned red and raced past it to purple. He hissed furiously, "Are you accusing me…?

"No, no," shouted Olaf, waving his hands. "It was that snake Allined. But you sat there and applauded while his sorcerer performed real magic in your presence."

"Allined brought a sorcerer into my castle?" roared Uther. "I'll tear him apart! If I have to take his castle down to it's foundations to do it!"

Arthur interrupted firmly, "We don't need a war right now, Father."

"Camelot has been insulted! It cannot be borne that a guest in my castle would be the victim of magic!" insisted Uther.

"And me, Father," said Arthur evenly, finally noticing his arm was bleeding freely and holding out his arm to Merlin, who dipped a serviette in some wine and adroitly cleaned the wound. "The sorcerer also placed that spell on me, which I chose not to tell you at the time because I felt it was more important to preserve the peace you were trying to build. Allined wanted war."

Stunned, Uther protested, "But you… you're fine. Not like…" He waved in the direction Vivian had been carried away.

Arthur smiled sarcastically. "Spell got broken. And no you don't want to know the details. You've drawn a curtain of denial around yourself for years concerning magic and you've kept the rest of us in the dark as well. I'm only now starting to find out the extent that magic actually exists in this kingdom and of Camelot's real magical defenses."

Uther stepped past Olaf a hand held palm out at his son as Merlin finished binding up the scratch with another serviette and bowed himself away. Through gritted teeth the King ordered, "You will obliterate every scrap of magic within this kingdom; every magical creature, every sorcerer no matter how minor must be eradicated from my kingdom."

"Including Morgana?" asked Arthur with a raised eyebrow.

Uther looked as though he had swallowed his tongue. "You will leave her to me. I will bring her home and she will eschew magic."

"No, Father, she won't. She's made her choice. I don't think she ever had another."

"I've had letters," insisted the King.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Promising to give up magic?"

Uther gritted his teeth. "Saying that she misses her life in Camelot and would happily return if not for her fear of you!"

"Me?" laughed Arthur. "She's playing you, Father. You're the one she fears. She knows you'll never accept her magic and she can no more give it up than sever all of her limbs. It's too much a part of her and too strong."

Uther's eyes flashed. In a barely controlled tone he said, "Perhaps you're speaking of your own lack of control."

Arthur's lips pursed in a frown. "Sit down, Father, and let us enjoy the feast without fighting for one evening? Please?"

Uther retook his seat, aware of Olaf examining his interaction with his son as he sat beside him. "I hope you've agreed to help King Olaf track down this sorcerer and put an end to his evil?"

"King Olaf has already killed the man, Father," said Arthur benignly.

"Then I don't understand, Olaf," said Uther, turning to his brother monarch.

"What's not to understand?" demanded Olaf. "Your son was cured of the enchantment. I want that cure for my daughter."

"I'm working on it, Father," said Arthur assuringly. "I'm sure we can find a way to relieve Vivian of the spell."

Uther pursed his lips, biting back his first reaction. "Perhaps you should ask Morgana. I don't approve of the use of magic, but she might know an acceptable way to break the enchantment."

Arthur gagged on the bite he'd just taken. "I wouldn't trust Morgana to wash my socks!"

"I don't care about 'acceptable,' Uther," blasted Olaf. "I want that spell broken! I don't care about the cost. I don't care if it takes magic. And I don't care what you think about it! You have your son back."

Uther eyed Arthur sidelong. "I'm not so sure about that."

Arthur slapped down his silverware. "I am not under a spell. You are the one who is not making decisions rationally."

"A leader has to be willing to entertain certain risks, Arthur,"

"But not foolish ones," replied Arthur, flushing red.

Uther bellowed, enunciating every word, "I will not have magic in my kingdom."

Arthur bellowed back, "Then you could not get Morgana back even if she weren't determined to kill you and steal the throne."

Forgetting his current status, Uther jumped to his feet. "Guards! Escort Prince Arthur to the dungeon."

Rising almost as quickly, Arthur snapped up a hand to stop the guards, who hadn't moved anyway. The banquet hall had gone unnaturally silent. "Fine, Father, if that is the way you want it, we will show the men of Rhegged how such decisions are made in Camelot." Arthur let his eyes scan across the faces of the Knights of Camelot present. "Those knights who support my decision to take the Regency over the King's objections, stand to my side," said Arthur, indicating the right side of the hall. Gwaine immediately jumped to his feet and strode to that side. The rest of the knights who knew Merlin's secret also started moving. Indicating the other side of the hall, Arthur continued, "Those who support the King step to his side."

Sir Botalf jumped up and managed to make it to Gwaine's side before Lancelot, Elyan, Leon, Kay and Percival. Rexford called, "And if we won't support you, Arthur?"

"Then I'll leave, as I said I would," replied the Prince firmly. "I will not remain and watch Morgana build up her forces for another invasion while pleading for her forgiveness."

Uther noted Sir Kirkly's wide eyes as he went to join Arthur's common born knights. He'd expect the young knight to act foolishly, and of course Arthur's common born knights had little choice but to support him. Uther wouldn't mind seeing the back of them. But the King didn't expect Sir Elcwith, a seasoned knight, to join them and motion for his other brother to do so as well. This was getting out of hand. "I will not allow you to leave, Arthur," he steamed, rising. "You will obey me, as your oaths compel you."

Arthur laughed. "And what of your oaths, Father? You've sworn to administer justice in Camelot. Is it justice to ignore Morgana's evil while murdering every herb woman in the kingdom? You are forsworn in your duties, my King, and I will not obey you. Not until this madness ends."

More of the knights rose at this and all walked to Arthur's side. Still, half were seated. Uther appealed to them. "I am your King! You will obey me, show me your loyalty." he shouted, pointing to the opposite side of the room.

"Come on then," exhorted Arthur. "I'll not have my knights sit still like cowards. Make your choice. I can stay only with the support of the Knights of Camelot." The rest of the knights pushed out from the tables, though many still seemed hesitant as to which way to go.

"You will molder in my dungeon, but you will not leave," growled Uther through clenched teeth.

"Oh, I'm reasonably certain I can leave if I want to, Father. But I'd rather stay and preserve Camelot than ride to the rescue after you hand the city over to Morgana's forces."

"I would never surrender. I never have," shouted Uther as even more knights congregated with the others.

At that Sir Rexford hobbled to Arthur's side, still using a cane after his injury. Sir Marhaus passed in front of the high table, stopping to bow to Uther. "My apologies my King," he said, lowering his eyes as he crossed to stand with the rest of the knights supporting Arthur.

Uther raised a hand as though he'd hit the elder knight. "Fool! Fool and coward! I am your King! Obey me!"

Only five knights still lingered at the table. Sir Tremayne stood ramrod straight behind his chair and cleared his throat. He addressed Arthur. "Highness, I will not be called a coward, but neither can I support either of you while you each support magic."

Arthur said solemnly, "As you have reason, Sir Tremayne, I can accept your decision."

"What do you accuse me of?" roared the King at the remaining knight.

Tremayne's face turned red but he stood proudly. "Of supporting the Lady Morgana beyond all reason and in contravention of your own laws."

Uther banged his fist on the heavy wooden table. "I make the laws. I will choose how they are enforced. This madness must end!"

"I believe that's the point," said Sir Leon mildly, from where he stood with the massed Knights of Camelot.

Uther glanced to his left. Not one knight stood to his side and only Tremayne remained at the tables with the Ladies and the Knights of Rhegged. Uther looked up to the ceiling trembling with fury. "I will not remain here to be insulted. I trust I may at least preserve my dignity in my own chambers?"

"Of course, Father," said Arthur in an overly gentle voice. "Please reconsider…"

But Uther had already whipped around and strode purposefully from the room followed by two knights whose frowns were anything but sympathetic.

"Copper for your thoughts?" Elyan teased his sister gently.

"Not here, Elyan," replied Gwen, speeding up slightly as they walked along the lane through the cool night air.

"Gwen," protested Elyan at her uncharacteristic reticence. He followed, unsure if she'd speak to him when they arrived at her house or shut him out completely. He sighed in relief when she left the door open for him. As soon as he'd closed it, he said, "You were quiet all through the feast. What's wrong?"

She turned haunted eyes on him but didn't speak.

"Hey," he said, suddenly full of concern, "whatever it is, we can fix it together."

She began to pace slowly, her hand half covering her mouth.

"Guinevere!" he said, full of concern.

She stopped suddenly in front of him. "You didn't seem surprised when Sir Tremayne accused Arthur of supporting magic, in fact none of the knights did, from Camelot or from Rhegged. And there have been rumors, so many rumors. I didn't say anything to Arthur because I thought they had to be unfounded, but he seemed to agree with what Tremayne said. Elyan, what's going on?"

Elyan looked away from his sister briefly. "It's not my place to say."

"Elyan!" protested Gwen. "Morgana was the best person I ever knew and magic twisted her into a monster."

Elyan interrupted, "Uther twisted her into a monster. Think, Gwen. How would it change you if you knew your own father would kill you if he found out you had magic?"

Gwen shook her head. "Even Uther is not that cruel. You saw how he defends her?"

"Past all reason," Elyan agreed. "But don't tell me she didn't believe he would do it."

Gwen lowered her eyes. "I don't know. She never confided in me. All I know is that when she returned to Camelot after Morgause kidnapped her, she had magic and her heart had twisted into something evil."

"Apparently, she had magic before that, and her heart was already turning. Morgause didn't kidnap her, they were already allies."

Gwen raised snapping eyes to her brother. "Where did you hear that?"

"From a source I trust. A magic source, as it happens. And Arthur heard it at the same time."

"Elyan," she breathed, placing a hand on his face.

He took her hand comfortingly in his. "Gwen, if you knew, you wouldn't be worried, not at all. Truly."

She leaned forward and rested her head on his shoulder. "Tell me what Tremayne knows, what all the knights know. Surely, that is public enough?"

Elyan hesitated only a beat. "Arthur's hired a sorcerer, or at least he's given someone permission to practice magic. Someone he trusts."

"He once trusted Morgana," said Gwen quietly.

Elyan rocked her soothingly in his arms. "This is different, Gwen. This is someone who's loyal to Arthur completely."

"So you've met him?"

Again Elyan hesitated, but only for a moment. "We've been practicing with him, out at Thoal Keep. Leon, Lancelot, Percival, Gwaine, even Kay, and Arthur, of course. He's really strong. I think he's as strong as Morgana." Gwen made a little worried noise against his chest and he stroked her back in sympathy. "Even Leon's accepted him and he was pretty shocked at first. Really, Gwen, if you knew, you wouldn't be worried at all."

"I'm not so sure about that," said Gwen, biting her lip and pulling out of her brother's embrace. "Morgana was the gentlest kindest woman I ever knew, but those days that she called herself Queen, she reveled in others' pain, killed innocents, all to get what she thought she deserved, no matter who she had to crush to take it."

Elyan caught her hands. "Morgana seeks revenge for having to hide what she was. Arthur's sorcerer wants to build a future with Arthur as King. The sorcerer advises, but Arthur rules."

"Arthur's not King yet."

Elyan dropped her hands. "No. But Uther is insane and getting worse. I doubt he'll retake the throne, no matter how long he lives or how much Arthur wants him to." Elyan laid a hand on Gwen's shoulder and kissed her forehead. "Please try not to worry. The knights all know there's a sorcerer involved and you saw them tonight. We believe Arthur can handle this."

Elyan opened the door and said, "good night," as he walked through it, leaving Gwen alone with her thoughts, which chased and tumbled around her head.

Every word of their conversation replayed while she changed for bed. She couldn't help muttering to herself, "Arthur has a sorcerer. Elyan knows. They've been practicing at Thoal Keep. Lancelot knows. Percival knows. Gwaine knows. Kay knows. Leon knows and approves." She pictured the party riding away in the mornings for their practices at Thoal Keep, coming back in the evening joking as much as when they'd left. "Even Merlin must…" but she trailed off. Elyan hadn't said Merlin's name, even though he'd gone with them every time. That wasn't like her brother.

Her mind tumbled through memories like a kaleidoscope. Things she hadn't questioned, hadn't wanted to question. Merlin telling her he could beat Arthur at their first meeting. Merlin going after Arthur more than once to save him when the serving boy couldn't possibly protect a knight. Merlin asking her for a sword to protect the Prince. Merlin telling her to break the love spell on Arthur with a kiss. Realization hitting her in waves, Gwen sank down on the edge of her bed. "Oh, Merlin…" she said with tears in her eyes.

Chapter Text

Arthur arrived for the council meeting with Cadby at his heels, Merlin having made the case that the young man needed to learn how to serve and that was rather easier at a council meeting than a feast. Privately, Arthur wondered if his servant simply had no more desire to deal with the council than he did. Quiet conversations abruptly ceased as Arthur entered the room and took his seat. Sir Leon took the seat at Arthur's right hand and his glances from Arthur to the others told the Prince he was desperately wishing to warn his Lord about something. Geoffrey, the palace Archivist, and Gaius took the seats next after Sir Leon, both with eyes rather averted.

Arthur glanced around in what he hoped was an admonishing manner as Agravaine took the seat directly on his left. Sir Marhaus narrowed his eyes at Agravaine's back and then left a seat between them. Arthur didn't need Leon to warn him, the body language in the room was enough to put him on guard. "Shall we take up the first order of business?" asked the Regent, leaving an opening for someone to bring up whatever was concerning his councilors.

Lord Arundel, who'd already been old when Arthur was born, had shuffled to the seat between Agravaine and Marhaus and glared at Cadby, who jumped when he realized he needed to pull out the old Lord's chair for him. His voice slightly strained with age, Arundel said as he seated himself, "With your permission, Highness, there is a matter which some members of this council were apparently privy to when you retook the Regency, but some of us have only just worked out. When exactly were you going to tell the rest of us that you'd taken a sorcerer to your employ?"

Arthur wanted to scrub his face in frustration. Instead he sat up straighter in his chair at the head of the council table, trying to appear as regal and intimidating as his sire. "When I had reason to and not before."

"You've done it then? You've actually put a dispensation in writing?" asked Geoffrey.

"Yes," Arthur affirmed that. He hadn't but he would, as soon as he got back to his chambers.

Arundel tapped his fingers impatiently on the table. "Uther has banned magic for the last quarter of a century. I find it difficult to understand why you would suddenly abandon the King's wisdom, despite his recent… illness."

"Let's say that I've come to appreciate the protections that my Mother put in place for me. It's become clear that Emrys, though he has lost a few battles, is largely responsible for preventing Morgana's attempts to claim the throne."

"Emrys?" asked Geoffrey, startled. "You claim this sorcerer is Emrys?"

"Why? What's in a name?" asked Arthur, trying not to show his suspicion at the recognition.

"Well…" began Geoffrey turning away to glance meaningfully at Gaius, who wouldn't meet his eyes. "I would have thought Gaius would have been the most appropriate person to advise you on such matters."

"What Gaius may or may not have told me will remain between the two of us." Wanting to get the worst over with Arthur said, "If you have something to say, do so."

Geoffrey hesitated a moment but Arthur could see the mention of the name weighed heavily on the old man. "You won't find the name Emrys in any book in the library. It is a name only from druids' tales and exists in Camelot only in the memories of old men who heard them in childhood."

Arthur raised an eyebrow at this, silently encouraging Geoffrey to continue, and wondering how there could be tales of Merlin before his birth.

"I find it hard to believe you would put much stock in druid tales," scoffed Agravaine.

Geoffrey snorted. "I've always been interested in legends, Lord Agravaine, and my folk were friendly to the druids when I was a child." Once again Geoffrey glanced at Gauis, but the physician returned only a mild look that could have meant anything. "The druids have prophesied the advent of Emrys for hundreds of years. For your sorcerer to claim to be him, well, he's either very sure of himself or he's a fool. Possibly both."

"Why, what is Emrys supposed to do?" asked Arthur, feigning indifference.

"Bring about Albion, under the auspices of the Once and Future King." As though suddenly realizing something, Geoffrey asked, "Don't tell me he's been filling your head with visions of you being…"

Arthur cut him off sharply. "I'm not a child, Geoffrey."

Geoffrey bit his lip and bowed his head in acquiescence.

"I have heard that term before," said Arthur slowly, remembering the dragon, "but no, no one has told me tales about either this mythical King or the sorcerer Emrys."

"He's supposed to be the most powerful sorcerer who will ever live," said Geoffrey, wincing with disapproval.

"Oh, that is…" said Agravaine, "really, Arthur, that just proves the man a charlatan."

"Whether he is or not," said Arthur firmly, "Mother chose to have him bound to me and that obligates me as well as him."

"I should say it does," hmphed Geoffrey.

"Explain," barked Arthur.

"I…" Geoffrey glanced again at Gaius as though for help, but the physician once again refused to meet his eyes. The old Archivist determinedly straightened his spine and met Arthur's gaze steadily. "Just so that I understand, Queen Ygraine had this man bound to you magically before you were born?"

"She did," confirmed Arthur.

"I still don't believe it," objected Agravaine.

"I have evidence of the fact from several sources, Uncle," snapped the Prince.

Geoffrey glanced dismissively at Agravaine and addressed Arthur as though the other man hadn't spoken. "May I assume that it was the sorcerer Nimueh who performed the binding?"

"You may," affirmed Arthur.

"And that this agreement was entered into willingly by the sorcerer Emrys?" asked Geoffrey.

"No," said Arthur.

"No?" thundered Lord Arundel.

Geoffrey placed a hand over his heart and Sir Marhaus paled visibly. Arthur could see Gaius trying to hide his cringe. Whatever was about to come out, the old physician had been keeping it from him, and presumably Merlin. Arthur had never liked secrets, especially when they were being kept from him. Firmly he repeated, "No. My understanding is that he was coerced, though he has accepted the bond now and has refused my offers to release him from my service. From some of the reactions I've gotten, I would have thought that such a binding was fairly standard procedure, even if I don't much care for it. Are you saying that sorcerers are usually a willing party to such bindings?"

"Yes!" exploded Geoffrey uncharacteristically. Reigning himself in, he continued, "Your mother certainly had a right to act as your proxy, and I'm sure she intended to educate you in the ways of magic, just as she was educated in such matters. But she should have known that a forced bond is dangerous." The old man shook his head, forcing himself to breathe. "I'm relieved to hear he accepts this bond. I don't understand why the Queen would agree to it or Nimueh would have performed it."

Lord Arundel snorted. "Power. The Queen knew of a powerful sorcerer and wanted his power for her son. She didn't care how she secured it."

Agravaine worked his fists menacingly. "My sister was not a dastard."

"No, she was a Queen," snapped Arundel. "Though Nimueh should have dissuaded her."

"Perhaps it was Nimueh's idea," said Geoffrey. "One doesn't simply coerce a powerful sorcerer. It would have taken a great deal of power on her part just to hold him."

"Unless he was young," said Arundel, looking to Arthur for confirmation. "Inexperienced. Nimueh had her own agenda and shackling an up and coming rival may have suited her. That also may be why we haven't heard of Emrys. As efficient as Uther was at destroying sorcerers, more than a few escaped. The Prince was in no danger from his own father and was well guarded, so the binding might not have compelled Emrys to remain."

"But compelled him to return when Arthur was old enough to require his services?" asked Sir Marhaus, also looking at his Prince for confirmation.

Arthur wasn't about to confirm or deny anything in the house of cards they were building, especially since it would lead suspicion away from Merlin who was nearly three years Arthur's junior. "That still doesn't explain the danger of a forced binding."

"The danger, my liege," grated Arundel, "is inherent in the binding, which is similar to a marriage or swearing of fealty, in which both parties agree to a permanent union, but then is magically sealed so that the breaking of those oaths triggers consequences to the offending party."

"What kind of consequences?" grated Arthur.

"That varies, my liege," said Geoffrey. "But if this is truly Emrys, then your natal rank and his power level could combine to curse all of Camelot for decades were you to betray your responsibilities toward him." Geoffrey hesitated. "A cunning sorcerer seeking revenge for your father's policies on magic might well realize that."

Arthur had to wet his suddenly dry mouth. "So what you are saying is that I've been living with an axe over my head?"

"It would seem so," huffed Arundel. "I turned over my sorcerer as the King demanded despite a properly agreed to bond and promptly fell ill. I couldn't rise from my bed for over two years. Even now I'm dependent on Gaius' potions for my health and my sorcerer was more of a physician than sorcerer and not a great one at that."

Arthur couldn't help but exchange a quick glance with Sir Leon. "Then it's a good job I didn't turn Emrys over for burning, eh?"

"You absolutely can't, Arthur," said Geoffrey earnestly. "Even when Uther is well and can retake his duties. And if it became necessary to execute Emrys, only single combat between you would minimize the consequences to the land."

"Yes, well, I thank you for your advice," said Arthur drily. "But it isn't going to become necessary to execute Emrys, as I am convinced of his loyalty. Father and I obviously have a lot to work out on the subject of magic before he retakes the throne. In light of his support of Morgana, I am in hopes that Father might be willing to," Arthur paused trying to think of something appropriate… and not completely unrealistic, "accept the dispensation I've granted and perhaps a few more for those who practice sorcery in connection with the healing arts."

"What I believe Geoffrey is saying," said Agravaine, "is that you need to be careful. This Emrys is obviously cunning. With respect, Arthur, you and Sir Leon are the only two at this table who weren't grown men before the ban on magic."

"In other words, I need someone older and wiser to hold my hand?" barked Arthur. "Thank you, Uncle, but I believe I've got it sorted." Arthur met the eyes of each of the men at the table. "I understand your concerns and if you have further apprehensions, by all means, bring them to me. I hate keeping secrets from you and from the people of Camelot, but you've just given me further reason. If Father can not accept my actions in granting this dispensation, I will have to order Emrys into hiding when Father reclaims the throne for the safety of the kingdom. The fewer who know anything about him the better."

Agravaine tilted his head at his nephew condescendingly. "That's rather shutting the barn after the horses have escaped, Arthur."

"That's as may be, Uncle, but that is my final word on the subject for the day. So let us take up the matter of the garrison being built on the border of Escetir. I understand they sustained more damage in yet another raid the other day."

Gwen stopped before Arthur's door, knowing the Prince was in council. She listened carefully for any sounds of movement within. A scrubbing noise rasped against her ear. Gwen took a breath to steady her nerves and pushed open the door, half hoping to find the wrong servant at work, though she knew that putting this conversation off wouldn't be a relief in the long run.

Merlin was on his knees surrounded by wet floor, a bucket beside him. He looked up at the sound of her entry, his blue eyes curious at her appearance, but unconcerned. "Gwen?" he asked, the soapy wet brush in his hand stilling.

She carefully crossed the wet floor to sit near him on the blanket chest at the foot of Arthur's bed. She folded her hands in her lap and began to wash them slowly, her face pinched in concern.

"What's wrong?" asked Merlin, confused by Gwen's odd behavior. He dropped the brush he'd been using into the bucket. "Is Kay bothering you again? Because if he is, Arthur will kill him this time for sure."

Tentatively, Gwen asked, "We've been friends for a long time, haven't we Merlin?"

"Of course," answered Merlin, his brow wrinkled in bewilderment.

"Good friends?"

"Gwen, you're my best friend," Merlin assured her.

"So if you had a secret, you'd feel comfortable sharing it with me?" she asked, worrying at her lip.

Merlin's eyes evaded hers. "I wouldn't lie to you, Gwen."

"I'm not accusing you of lying, Merlin," said Gwen, rubbing her fingers in agitation. "Keeping a secret isn't lying exactly. Sometimes there are things that are hard to share even with… friends."

Merlin sat back on his heels. "You've completely lost me."

Gwen bit her lip. "Elyan told me about Arthur's sorcerer last night."

"He did?" asked Merlin, his eyes darting away and back, hoping she didn't mean what he thought she meant.

Gwen hurried to assure him, "Elyan would never betray a confidence. I asked him to tell me what all the knights knew. He did. And I'm worried about the sorcerer."

Merlin's face fell for a moment before he smiled an uncomfortable smile, trying to be reassuring. "You've nothing to worry about, Gwen. You wouldn't have anyway, but you must know Arthur would never let anything happen to you."

"That's what Elyan said," replied Gwen worrying at her lip again. "But I don't think either of you understand. I'm worried for the sorcerer."

"Worried for…?" asked Merlin, confusion furling his brow.

Gwen's words came out in a rush. "Morgana was the kindest gentlest soul I knew, but when she gained magic, it twisted her into a hateful vindictive witch who reveled in the pain she could cause. What will magic do to Arthur's sorcerer? How long before his magic twists him into something his own mother wouldn't recognize?"

"That's not going to happen," said Merlin, shock coloring his voice. "Arthur wouldn't let it happen."

"And how would Arthur prevent it?" burst out Gwen, a sob hitching her voice. "Oh, Merlin, I don't want to lose you too."

"Um… what?" asked Merlin, thoroughly confused and dreading Gwen's conclusions.

"Be honest with me, please, Merlin," Gwen begged, struggling to control her emotions. "You've known too much about magic for too long. Elyan talked about the knights practicing with Arthur's sorcerer, but he didn't mention you. I know you've gone with them and Elyan wouldn't have left you out. He didn't. You're the sorcerer. And as strong as Morgana, Elyan said. Please, Merlin, what will that do to you? I know you only mean well. You want to help Arthur, protect him from Morgana, but that kind of magic, it will twist you and…"

Merlin surged forward, taking her hands in his, his words spilling from his lips. "It won't happen like that, Gwen. I'm not like Morgana. She got her powers late and she didn't know what to do with them. There was no one to train her, no one to trust. I tried sending her to the druids, but that totally backfired. And I couldn't tell her about my powers because, well…" Merlin ran out of steam as he tried to figure out how to explain about the Dragon and Gaius without mentioning either one.

"You couldn't tell her…?" Gwen straightened, her back stiffening in assumed courage. "Merlin, I'm sure you've meant well with your magic. I'd like to think Morgana did too, when she started."

Merlin winced. "I think it mostly frightened her at first. She was terrified and I couldn't do enough to help her."

Gwen acknowledged that with a quick nod. "She was afraid. Her dreams…"

"Were untrained magic," said Merlin gently.

"Oh." Gwen stared at him, her eyes reflecting the pain she felt at her mistress' suffering.

Merlin said softly, "Morgana could see the future, Gwen. But when the future reveals itself, it does so violently. Her visions were terrifying and she couldn't control them. I think when Morgause finally taught her how it was such a relief, she saw Morgause as a savior."

"But you're not afraid?" asked Gwen cautiously.

Merlin looked away from her briefly. "I mostly enjoyed my magic when I was younger, but my powers have frightened me occasionally. There were moments when I couldn't control them well."

"That must have been very hard for you," said Gwen sympathetically, her brown eyes still brimming with worry.

Merlin smiled ironically. "I think it was harder on my mum. She was always having to cover for me and then try to teach me better. Please don't worry for me, Gwen. I've had my magic all my life. I don't remember a time when I didn't. It won't change me because it's too much a part of me. I wouldn't know what to do if it disappeared. Losing my magic would be like losing my sight or cutting off both my arms."

Gwen stilled suddenly, her eyes far away. "I can't even imagine having to teach a child to hide who he was."

Merlin shrugged. "It's just the way it was. It was good practice for here. Nearly the first thing I saw when I walked into Camelot was a man executed for his magic." He ducked his eyes at the memory.

Gwen grasped his hands more tightly. "You must have been terrified."

Merlin grew thoughtful. "It made the danger more real to me, but it was a danger I was used to living with." He laughed hollowly. "And then I got practically given to Arthur, by Uther no less. Either one of them would have chopped off my head in an instant had they found out. The stocks were nothing compared to the true danger."

She shook her head slowly in disbelief. "All that time you spent in the stocks? You could have gotten out of them? You could have run?"

"But then I would have lost my place with Arthur and been hunted through every kingdom with even so much as a passing alliance with Camelot." His eyes slid away from hers, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I may occasionally have used magic to divert the larger bits being thrown at me."

"Larger bits?" she asked, stupefied.

"A brick, one day," he confided. "Fortunately, a sympathetic guard saw that one and ran the guy off. It is only supposed to be vegetables and I didn't need a concussion."

Gwen bit at her lip. "Are you the one that put the magic poultice that healed my father under his pillow?"

"I didn't mean to get you in trouble Gwen," he said earnestly. "I just didn't think it through very well."

She looked at him sharply. "Do you think I'm upset about you saving my father's life? Because I'm not."

He took a breath. "Oh, good."

"Honestly, I thought that had to be Morgana," Gwen said wistfully. "That maybe she'd used her magic to help me before she changed."

Merlin shook his head. "If Morgana ever did anything good with her magic, I don't know about it. Maybe if she had, it would have put her on a different path."

"But you do," said Gwen. She made it a statement, but the question was in her eyes.

Merlin sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I try. I never had to learn to use my magic, until I got here and needed it to protect Arthur and Camelot. But I always had to hide what I was doing, even when what I was doing was protecting someone else."

"You're lucky you weren't caught." Breathless, she asked, "What am I to do with you?"

His eyebrow twitched up. "Accept me as I am?"

Gwen smiled wanly and leaned her forehead against his. "Elyan said I wouldn't worry if I knew who the sorcerer was. He was wrong. I don't want to lose you, either way."

"You won't," whispered Merlin.

They both looked up and pulled apart at the sound of the door opening. Arthur stood just inside the open door, staring stunned at his servant and his Lady. Merlin realized he was still holding Gwen's hands and pulled away.

"I know you two are friends…" began Arthur questioningly.

"Gwen knows," said Merlin.

"Knows?" asked Arthur.

For answer, Merlin's eyes glowed and the door shut behind Arthur. Gwen gasped in surprise at the casual display.

"Right," said Arthur, visibly composing himself. Addressing Gwen he asked, "So if Merlin is in enough trouble to be on his knees, how much trouble am I in?"

"Lots," said Gwen, rising and going to him. Worry still creased her brow. "Potentially lots."

Arthur wrapped his arms around her waist as Merlin gathered up his bucket and headed for the door. "Where are you slinking off to, Emrys?" asked the Prince sternly.

"Ah, I thought you two might want to be alone?" said Merlin, surprised to hear Arthur use the druid name.

Arthur frowned at him for a moment, then asked with a raised eyebrow, "Most powerful sorcerer ever?" Guinevere startled in his arms and he stroked her back reassuringly.

"Who's been telling you druids' tales?" asked Merlin warily.

Arthur replied dryly, "Geoffrey."

"Must have been an interesting council meeting," said Merlin.

"Interesting is one word, though I don't believe in druids' tales," said Arthur shortly. "I was more interested in how you and I could end up cursing all of Camelot if we don't get along."

"What?" asked both Gwen and Merlin, alarmed.

Arthur patted Gwen's back but concentrated on Merlin. Through gritted teeth he asked, "Didn't Gaius explain that part?"

"No!" said Merlin his eyes wide and anxious.

Arthur bit off his words in frustration. "Something about a forced bond and mutual duties. I'm beginning to think that Father really did manage to curse me."

Merlin shook his head. "No, that part was all Nimueh's idea. And yes, she might have intended it as a curse."

Gwen's eyes flicked back and forth between the two men in confusion.

"Geoffrey thought it might have something to do with her wanting to control you because she couldn't stand a rival," suggested Arthur.

Merlin tilted his head, considering. "I only met her a couple of times, but I could believe it. She might have found some way to use the whole thing to try to control you as well."

"What whole thing?" burst out Gwen.

"Elyan didn't explain about the… No, he doesn't know about that part does he?" asked Merlin. Quirking an eyebrow at Arthur, he said, "I'm getting a little lost as to who knows what."

Gwen laid her hands on Arthur's chest and pushed away, though he kept her in the circle of his arms. "Arthur Pendragon, you are going to explain everything about this to me. Everything!"

Arthur stared at the woman in his arms a moment before he acquiesced and laid a kiss in her hair. "All right, Gwen, as far as I know it. And I keep finding more unwelcome surprises."

Merlin snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Why don't you go and find something more productive to do, Sorcerer?" growled Arthur. "Surely you have better things to work on than the floors?"

"It gave me time to think and I have to do something as your servant," said Merlin crossly as he left through the antechamber.

Arthur deflated with a sigh as he left. Gwen pulled him close, supporting him. He leaned into her, allowing himself the comfort of her touch. He pulled back, his hands sliding to find hers, and led her to the table. He pulled out a chair for her one-handed, not relinquishing the contact between them. He pulled out a second for himself and they sat facing each other, knee to knee, Arthur slumped over their joined hands, stroking Gwen's fingers. He talked for a long time, explaining everything he knew about Nimueh's spell and Merlin's powers.

Gwen gasped in shock, murmured promises of her silence and touched Arthur's face in reassurance by turns. When he finally fell silent she asked in a whisper, "You called Merlin the most powerful sorcerer ever?"

"Emrys is supposedly the most powerful sorcerer ever and the druids call Merlin Emrys. Father is never going to accept magic. When he returns to the throne…"

"If Uther returns to the throne," she corrected.

He looked away from her. "Tell me how scared you are of Merlin."

"I'm not scared of Merlin," she said firmly. "I'm scared for him. Magic warped Morgana. What will it do to him?"

"I had thought of that." Arthur rubbed his forehead. "I know what he thinks though. He thinks it was Morgana's fear that warped her and I agree. I think she was terrified… of Father, of me." Arthur looked directly into Gwen's eyes. "We have to keep him grounded, make sure he knows he has people who care about him and will help him. I've seen what he can do when he stops thinking about it and just reacts. I saw him start to panic once. The thought of Merlin in a panic terrifies me."

Gwen nodded thoughtfully. "Keep him grounded. That makes sense, Arthur. The last I saw of Morgana, she thought the only one she could trust was Morgause and that woman is full of hate. Merlin needs to be with people who love him to keep him sane."

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh God, could I have stopped this? Could I have kept Morgana from turning on us if I'd known? If I'd been a little more observant?"

Gwen laid a hand on his shoulder. "There was no way you could know. Morgana didn't trust you with her magic."

"Neither did Merlin," snorted Arthur. "I had to figure it out on my own. And even then he only let me see a bit. The extent of his magic I've practically had to drag out of him. If I could finally see magic in my servant, shouldn't I have seen it that much earlier in my sister?"

Gwen's lips pinched together in despair. "I knew. When you went on your quest for the Fisher King's trident. Morgana was casting spells then. I could have told you when you got back. I didn't."

Arthur stared at her a moment before closing his eyes and shaking his head slowly. "I probably wouldn't have believed you anyway. Would have just laughed like an idiot."

"Arthur, you're not," said Gwen, shaking him gently. "What do any of us know about magic?"

"Not enough apparently," said Arthur opening his eyes. "But I'm learning. Half the castle now knows I've employed a sorcerer and the other half suspects. I need to write to Morgana."

"Before she finds out on her own?"

Arthur shook his head. "To apologize. To tell her that I'm no longer completely in support of the ban on magic. That I could possibly be won over to her point of view on magic and would be willing to help persuade Uther…"

"Don't tell me you'd trust her," interrupted Gwen.

"Not without some demonstration of her loyalty, I assure you," said Arthur morosely. "But Father wants her back. I have to at least make an effort. Will you help me write it, Gwen? Do you think we have any chance of convincing Morgana that her family still loves her?"

"I can't imagine what you could say that would turn her back to Camelot's side," said Gwen uncomfortably, "but I suppose I understand why you have to try."

Arthur leaned forward and brushed his lips tenderly across Gwen's. She dimpled at him mischievously. "Well, that's one way to set the right mood."

Merlin slammed the door as he entered the chambers he shared with Gaius. "When were you going to tell me…?" he began.

"Never," replied Gaius sharply, standing up from beside the fire where he'd been stirring a pot. "There's nothing you can do about it, there never was. Either you and Arthur were going to get on or you weren't."

Merlin recognized the smell emanating from the fireplace, but even the scent of his favorite meal wasn't nearly enough to mollify him. "You should have told me…"

"And have you question your actions even more than you do? I thought about telling you, more than once, to try to temper your impulsiveness. I never did because I feared that knowledge would only make you hesitate when you needed to stand up to Arthur."

Merlin bit his lip. "Arthur said we could curse all of Camelot if we don't get along."

Gaius adopted the manner of the sage teacher. "It would actually take a clear betrayal for the curse to be unleashed. I'd suggest you avoid stabbing him in the back with his own sword or letting him burn you at the stake. Think about how much you already do to each other. You haven't managed to curse Camelot yet."

"So as long as we don't attempt to murder each other, we're probably ok?" asked Merlin ruefully.

"Probably," said Gaius with a wry tilt of his head. "Crowning yourself King should probably also be avoided. And I don't think it will do any harm at this juncture for Arthur to know that turning you over for execution is not to be thought of."

"He wouldn't," said Merlin positively. "If he was going to, it would have happened already."

"Well then, there's no problem, is there?" asked Gaius, going to the cupboard and pulling out dishes.

"How am I to learn if you don't tell me anything?" asked Merlin exasperatedly.

"Experience," said Gaius shortly. He shook his head at Merlin ruefully. "Merlin, in many ways, you've surpassed me. You always were more powerful than I, even before you mastered the basics of our craft, you started doing what I would have considered impossible. But you've long since mastered not only the basics, but the majority of what I can teach you. You're no longer any kind of apprentice."

A plea crept into Merlin's voice. "I still need your help."

"And I'm happy to advise you," said Gaius firmly, dishing up their meal. "How are you coming with Vivian's situation?"

Merlin joined his mentor at the table, fully aware of the attempt at diversion, but not knowing what else to say on a matter that still rankled. "I've found a spell for identifying Vivian's true love if he isn't Damaris. But I can't find any way to break the spell on her other than her true love's kiss. What if she doesn't have one?"

"I believe everyone has one, Merlin. It's more a matter of whether or not he's still alive. Knights have an alarming tendency to get killed off early."

Merlin shuddered. "Then there might not be a way to break the spell."

Gaius propped an elbow on the table and stared intently into his nephew's eyes. "For any other sorcerer, there might not be another way to break the spell. You do not necessarily have that limitation. The time is coming when you are going to need to write your own spells."

Merlin blanched. "I can't do that."

Gaius chuffed softly. "Where do you think all the spells you've been reading came from, Merlin? Someone had to write them. The sorcerers who write their own spells tend to be those who are either deepest in learning or strongest in power. I've written a few myself; small things. You have the power to achieve great things and there won't always be a spell to hand to accomplish what you want to do. You'll have to write it yourself."

Merlin leaned forward. "I don't know how to write a spell."

Gaius smiled softly. "You write Arthur's speeches."

"That's different!" said Merlin stridently. "Speeches don't make things happen."

"Of course they do," disagreed Gaius. "Speeches stir the hearts of men to motivate them to accomplish great things. Spells motivate the forces of magic."

"It's not the same thing," said Merlin, bewildered.

"It is the same thing," insisted Gaius. "Writing a spell is like writing poetry. You have to feel what it's supposed to do, how it stirs your magic deep inside of you, just as poetry stirs emotions. Speeches do the same thing."

"I'd hardly equate writing a speech to be given to the Tanner's Guild with writing a spell to break a powerful curse."

"That's because you haven't tried it yet," replied Gaius sagely. "Trust me."

Merlin dug into his stew. "I'm hoping we just find Vivian's true love."

Gaius sighed and rose from his seat. "I was going to wait until your birthday to give you this." He dug down into the depths of his clothes chest.

Merlin perked up. "You already got my birthday present?"

"Yes, well, when one finds the perfect gift early, it's wise to simply put it by until it's needed." Gaius pulled a package wrapped in plain brown paper and tied up with twine from the bottom of the chest and brought it to Merlin.

Merlin accepted the gift warily. "My birthday's not for months yet."

"So I'll have to get you something else, something smaller probably. Open it."

Merlin tugged the twine and the paper fell away revealing a leather bound book. A red border had been painted on the cover, but no title. Merlin was sure the new leather would creak when he opened it and it did, but as he turned the pages he became confused. "Gaius this book is blank."

"So it is. It's a magic book, you see."

"So I have to know the spell to see the words?" asked Merlin hopefully.

A mischievous smile lit the old man's face. "No, you need to write them."

"Gaius!"

"I'm not saying that you're going to need to write your own spells in the next few days, Merlin. But you certainly know enough to try and to be successful."

"I'll burn the castle down trying to create my own incantations." protested Merlin.

"That's always a possibility," agreed Gaius mildly. "But one I'd try to avoid."

Merlin pushed the book aside angrily and huddled over his stew. "I could just copy in the spells I've used over the years."

"That might actually be a good start. Spells that work well with your magic are a good reference for creating new ones."

Merlin threw his spoon down. "When are you going to stop pushing me?"

"Five minutes ago you asked for my help."

Merlin closed his eyes and threw up his hands. "Yes. Right. Alright. I'll think about it."

"It's your book, Merlin. You can do with it whatever you want."

"I said I'd think about it," growled Merlin, huddling down over his stew again.

There was silence between them for several minutes as they finished their dinners. Gaius took away the dishes to wash them and had just turned back to ask Merlin when he had to be back to tend to Arthur when he caught his ward fingering his present speculatively. Gaius decided that now was not the moment to push and turned away to wash the dishes.

Chapter Text

Morgana woke screaming. Her breath coming fast, her hands fisted into her soft blankets, her mind chased after the images of her dream. The gargoyles bowing to a sorcerer, but she couldn't see the man. Was it a man? She could see him only from the back. Why couldn't these dreams give a decent perspective? He was cloaked, his hood drawn up even to hide his hair (his?), a staff held high in his hand, the crystal atop it glowing. She rocked back and forth. Long thin fingers held the staff. Shoulders wide enough it probably was a man.

Concentrate on what you can see. Concentrate on what you can see. The staff, she knew that staff. She'd seen it before. Where? She threw herself out of bed and began to pace in the strong afternoon sunlight streaming through her windows. Afternoon naps were supposed to be peaceful and without the visions that terrorized her. What sorcerer was this that threatened her so her dreams must even invade the daytime?

Concentrate. Knights in armor in the courtyard of Camelot's castle. Arthur? Yes, she thought so, but it was the sorcerer who centered in this vision. Focus. Focus. She screamed in frustration. She could see nothing of him. Only the staff, where had she seen that staff? And there was the image. That staff in the hand of Sophia Tiamore. Why would the sorcerer have Sophia's staff? Could this sorcerer be the treacherous woman? Sophia had once tried to kill Arthur, if Morgana could trust her dreams, she certainly didn't trust Merlin's fictional story. Morgana had learned the hard way how much trust to put in her visions. They were indicative of the future, but not accurate renderings. Could Sophia be working for Arthur now? Could he have escaped her and become her captor in that evening? Arthur had appeared cocky enough at court the next morning. Making her doubt herself. But there was something about that staff.

"Milly!" she called. Where was the girl? Gwen would have been in her chambers comforting her at the sound of Morgana's first scream. The speed with which the door opened convinced Morgana that her servant had been loitering outside her door, but hadn't come to her mistress' aide, the coward.

The girl dropped a curtsey in the doorway, but advanced no further. "My Lady?"

"Is there an artist in the village? Someone who can draw?" she demanded, still pacing furiously.

"My Lady?" repeated the stupid girl.

Morgana seethed, "An image in my head. I have to get it out where I can see it properly. A woodcarver would do, in this instance."

Confusion showed in the girl's eyes. "I don't know my Lady."

"Then make inquiries!" said Morgana savagely.

"Yes, my Lady." The girl dropped another curtsey but remained in the doorway.

"Well?" demanded Morgana.

"Oh!" said the girl, surprised. "The Lord Agravaine arrived while you were sleeping." She almost whispered, "Should I have woken you?"

Morgana smirked. "You did well to make him wait. Come and comb my hair and then find what I asked for." Morgana seated herself at her dressing table while the girl reluctantly scuttled into the room. She wasn't about to rush for Agravaine's worthless news.

When she finally found him, Agravaine was settled in front of her parlor fire enjoying her wine. "Comfortable?" she asked, rudely, thinking that he should have at least checked to see she wasn't being attacked when she woke screaming.

"Quite," he replied, unperturbed. He tapped some papers sitting on the side table next to him. "Your letters."

"What does the old hypocrite want now?" she sneered. "Me to rescue him from Arthur? I'll admit, when the herald came through announcing Arthur's ascension I was shocked. I didn't think he'd ever see Uther as anything other than a god."

Agravaine snorted in mirth. "Uther would love for you to kill Arthur's sorcerer for him, I'm sure. Bit of a dust up in the council the other day. Arthur actually came out with a name for this … magician; Emrys."

"Emrys?" she asked drily. "Should I know the name?"

Agravaine leaned forward conspiratorially. "Geoffrey did. According to Druid legend, Emrys is supposed to be the most powerful sorcerer of all time."

Morgana snorted in disbelief. "So Arthur's sorcerer takes the name of a powerful legend in order to hide his own?"

Agravaine grinned wolfishly, "Emrys is also supposed to be the sorcerer of the 'Once and Future King.' I think our foolish Prince may be being sold a bill of goods."

"That sounds more like Arthur," snapped Morgana. "Appeal to his vanity and even a sorcerer stands a chance."

"He's written to you as well," said Agravaine nodding to the letters on the side table.

"Truly?" Morgana smirked, holding out her hand for Arthur's letter. Agravaine slipped it from beneath Uther's and handed it to her. Morgana broke the seal and took it nearer the window, into the light. Frowning she said, "It's Gwen's handwriting; Arthur's signature, but she wrote it. Not that I'd expect him to be so much as competent to write a letter on his own. Ah!" She laughed scornfully. "Now he even admits to me that he's hired a sorcerer and he'll even try to talk Uther into accepting my magic! Am I supposed to come back to Camelot and play happy family after they killed my sister? I'll have a reply for you to take back this evening, Agravaine. It will make the page burn. In fact, that's not a bad idea," she said with a mad gleam in her eyes.

Agravaine leaned forward holding up a hand "Wait, wait, my Lady. We have an opportunity to secure an ally."

"Arthur will never be my ally!"

"Not Arthur, Morgana, Olaf."

She stared at him. "Agravaine, no one will ever accuse you of having loose lips."

He smiled at her thinly, "Information has value, my Lady. I do not spend it carelessly. King Olaf has arrived with his mad daughter wanting Arthur's sorcerer to break a love spell that was apparently cast on her the last time she set foot in Camelot. She screeches Arthur's name so often even he's sick of it."

"How awful for him," said Morgana drily.

Amused, Agravaine watched the sorcerer carefully. "Uther suggested that perhaps you could break the spell."

Morgana's eyes widened in shock. "Uther?"

"'In an acceptable manner'" quoted Agravaine, taking a sip of his wine.

Morgana exploded, "Acceptable!?!"

"Indeed," he chuckled. "But if you were to break the spell…"

Morgana settled back and folded her arms across her chest. "I don't spend my opportunities carelessly either, Agravaine. I'll think about it, while I respond to my correspondence."

Uther paced the length and breadth of his chambers chaffing at his imprisonment. The candles guttered with the lateness of the hour, but Uther was not tired for once, having slept most of the afternoon. He had nothing to do and a man could only sleep so long, no matter how fatigued he felt.

The King ground his teeth in agitation replaying in his mind the conversations he'd had over the past several days with every single Knight of Camelot and all of his advisors. Every knight of Camelot had had experience fighting against magic, he would have expected at least one of them to recognize that Arthur had to be under a spell, but almost every one had assured him that Arthur seemed his own man. None believed the Prince's treachery to be the result of sorcery. Only Tremayne had been willing to consider the possibility. He had offered to support Uther, but at the cost of giving up on Morgana. Uther had done the only sensible thing and thrown the knight out; as he had with several others who had hinted at the same with more subtlety.

He'd expected Gaius at least to see sense, but the old man had tried to placate him like a hysterical child. Now he was reduced to trying to talk sense to Arthur's servant. The boy was fanatically loyal to Arthur, despite his bumbling. If he could be made to see the danger, it might just be the wedge in the door that would allow Uther to regain his kingdom. Uther felt ill at such a slim chance, but it being his last, he couldn't overlook it.

Faintly, he heard the key turn in the lock and he pulled himself up regally. Had the person entering been unexpected, there would have been a knock first. That much privacy the King had, no more. The door swung wide and Merlin shuffled in, head bowed appropriately to his station. Uther almost wished for his defiance. He certainly hoped the servant was showing Arthur some.

The servant didn't speak or come fully into the room, but waited patiently by the door for the King to acknowledge him. Uther glared at the knight glancing into his chambers to see that all was right and waited until the door had closed. "Merlin," said the King distastefully.

Merlin bowed slightly. "You wished to see me, Highness?"

Uther motioned the younger man closer. He had no wish to be overheard. Furious at being reduced to conspiring with servants, Uther growled, "You at least must see that this sorcerer of Arthur's is a danger?"

"Of course, Sire," replied Merlin, raising his eyes in surprise. "Everyone sees that."

"Everyone?" demanded the King, shocked in his own turn.

"Yes, Sire," said Merlin, his shoulders relaxing their slump. Whatever he'd been expecting the King to say, it wasn't this. "The servants are whispering their fears. The knights are on edge, but determined that Arthur can handle it. Your council about went into convulsions the other day. King Olaf is desperate for the sorcerer's help and terrified he won't give it. Everyone is worried; they just put their faith in Arthur."

"And Arthur?" asked the King.

Merlin dropped his eyes away. "He's a little worried too. Has been since he discovered the man was a sorcerer." Merlin looked back up earnestly. "He's had chances to kill Emrys. I promise you that. He hasn't chosen to do it. He sees that Emrys will work for him, not against him."

Uther scoffed and turned away. "Sorcerers always have their own agenda. He's using my son."

Merlin drew a long breath. "Sire, he's not."

Uther's hand flashed out, as though he would strike Merlin, but he thought better of it mid-swing and instead took hold of the servant by the shoulders. "Gaius says you are supposed to be Arthur's protection against magic."

Merlin stared at the King with wide eyes. "I am," he confirmed.

Uther stared into the servant's eyes. "For the good of the kingdom, this sorcerer must be destroyed."

Merlin wet his dry lips. "Arthur knows best what is good for the kingdom. If the sorcerer must be destroyed, he will do it."

Uther shoved the servant slightly as he pulled away. "Clearly Arthur is under a spell."

"Sire, he is not," said Merlin, raising his voice slightly.

His voice a whiplash, the King demanded, "How would you know?"

Merlin spoke quickly. "I've seen Arthur under spells more than once. I've broken more than one. I promise you, he is not under Emrys' spell."

Desperately, Uther asked, "Then why does he defy me?"

Sympathetically, Merlin said, "Sire, you know the answer to that."

Uther glared at the younger man. His jaw tight he said slowly, "He defies me to protect his sorcerer."

Merlin looked away again, but when he looked back it was with defiance in his eyes. "That too." Merlin sighed. "Sire, if I knew how to return the Lady Morgana to court, I would do it."

Uther turned his back on the servant. "She will come. She will come and when she does Arthur's sorcerer will be no more. Then he will return to me too." He raised his hand in a sign of dismissal.

The King listened as Arthur's servant knocked to be let out, listened as the door opened and closed. He slumped once he was alone again and rested his head in his hands. After a few shuddering breaths he crossed to his desk and took up his quill to write once again to his daughter; his only possible savior.

Merlin crossed the torch-lit courtyard on his way to his bed, his mind roiling from the conversation with Uther. He'd been relieved to find that Uther hadn't called him to his chambers to confront him about his sorcerery but in answering Uther's paranoia, Merlin had had to face one particularly unsavory truth rather head on: everyone was afraid of him. Oh, Arthur was rather stalwart about it, but his fear of magic wasn't gone, it had only receded somewhat in the face of Arthur's bravery. Most of the knights who knew his secret were ok with it, though Leon still looked at him with suspicion. But otherwise, fearful whispers filled the castle from knights and servants alike. The only comfort there was that the whispers always ended with a hopeful expression of confidence in Arthur.

Suddenly, Merlin wanted to turn and find Arthur, needing the Prince's confidence to bolster his own. He couldn't though. He'd just put the Prince to bed before he'd been given the King's summons. Merlin drew his coat more tightly around him, feeling suddenly cold. Would Camelot ever accept him and his magic?

Merlin had only just made it to the entrance to Gaius' tower when the Rheggian knights arrived in a clatter. "Oh no," said the servant after one look at the dark haired knight in Mercian colors belly down over his saddle. Feeling ill at having the excuse he'd wished for a moment ago he sprinted back towards Arthur's room, knowing the Prince would not be pleased. "Arthur!" he called, barreling through the door of the darkened chambers.

"Now what?" demanded the Prince, sitting up in bed and throwing off his covers.

Breathlessly, Merlin reported, "Sir Granady just got back and I'm pretty sure the knight he's got trussed up and thrown over his saddle must be Damaris."

"Oh, hell's bells!" shouted the Prince, catching the tunic his servant threw to him. He was into his clothes quick enough that he managed to catch the knights dragging the hapless Damaris to Olaf's quarters and followed them in, Merlin at his heels.

Olaf had also been awakened and had only managed to pull on his cloak over his nightshirt.

Sir Granady tossed Damaris at Olaf's feet. "He wouldn't come willing, Sire. We had to drag him."

"Damn straight I wouldn't come willing!" yelled Damaris, struggling back to his feet. "I'm no longer your vassal, King Olaf. You dismissed me! My oaths are to Mercia now."

"I don't care about your oaths!" bellowed Olaf. "I only care about my daughter, who you professed to care about once yourself."

Damaris took a breath, visibly calming himself, and lowered his voice. "As I tried to explain to Sir Granady, I'm married. My wife gave me a son just last month and I love her more than life itself. I am sorry, but I am not the Lady Vivian's true love."

Olaf purpled, but spotted the Prince over the shoulders of his knights. "Arthur!" he bellowed.

"Well, that would have been the easy way," said Arthur stepping forward.

"What now?" demanded the King.

"I know there's a plan, I don't know what it is," sighed Arthur. Turning to the disgruntled knight he said, "Sir Damaris, I'm sorry for this inconvenience. Let me assure you, you will have the full hospitality of Camelot while you're here."

Damaris looked Arthur up and down appraisingly. Coolly, he said, "I intend to leave in the morning, Highness."

Arthur forced a smile. "As you are here, Sir Damaris, I would appreciate it if you would stay a day or two. There may be a way in which you can help anyway. Surely you wouldn't want to leave a Lady you once cared for in dire straits?"

Damaris snorted. "I suppose I could stay a day. Give me a chance to pick up the gossip. Kicked over your traces well and truly from what Granady's said, haven't you, Highness? My King will be most interested."

Arthur's mouth worked in fury, but his answer came out politely despite the smothered laugh he heard from Merlin behind him. "In that case, Sir Damaris, I would appreciate it if you would carry back a letter from me to King Bayard explaining the situation."

Damaris inclined his head politely, but his eyes twinkled so assessingly that Arthur wondered if the haughty knight would challenge him before he left, to redeem his honor if nothing else. Now that he saw the man, he remembered him. Damaris hadn't lasted five seconds against Arthur when he'd entered the trial to become a knight of Camelot, doubtless right after Olaf had sacked him. The Prince hadn't been sorry when the now Mercian knight had given up and moved on. He'd have to have Lancelot or Gwaine prove to him that he still wasn't nearly good enough.

"Merlin, find Sir Damaris quarters appropriate to his rank," said Arthur, hoping his tone carried enough bite for his servant to understand that he meant not too good.

Merlin bowed to Sir Damaris and followed him out.

"Arthur," growled Olaf.

"Not a word, if you want my help, Olaf," said Arthur, stepping into the King's space. Olaf took a step toward him in response so that the two stood toe to toe, and silently glowered at the Prince. "I know you thought Damaris was the one, but all you've managed to bring back is a spy against my kingdom."

"Your kingdom?" purred Olaf dangerously. "Not your father's?"

Arthur stiffened. "I am in hopes that Father will one day be able to retake his throne. For the moment, I stand as Camelot's protector. Do not challenge me, Olaf, if you want your precious daughter back." Arthur whirled out the door just as Vivian once again began screaming from her quarters. Her screams followed him back to his quarters and the heavy door did little to alleviate them.

Arthur lit several candles on the nearest candelabra and began to pace, wondering how long it would take Merlin to get Sir Damaris settled. It was inconvenient having the sorcerer/servant doing double duty. Arthur rubbed his temples against the force of Vivian's screams, feeling as if he couldn't put up with the ensorcelled Lady much longer. At least she seemed to sleep well in Camelot, which her guardian knights reported had not been the case in Rhegged. But as long as she was awake, she was subject to screaming fits that disturbed the whole castle. Her screams cut off abruptly and Arthur hoped it didn't mean that someone had finally had enough and killed the poor woman, though he couldn't be bothered to check. She had knights to raise the alarm if anything happened to her.

Arthur stamped his feet impatiently. Surely it shouldn't take this long for Merlin to show Damaris to the knights' hall and find an empty room. Perhaps his servant had decided once that duty was done he could go to bed without seeing to his Lord? Arthur was developing a towering temper when his door finally opened. "Merlin…" he growled warningly.

"Sorry," said Merlin closing the door. "Had to see to Vivian too. Apparently, I'm the only one who can get her to take her medicine so she'll sleep. Gaius tried it tonight and she attacked him."

"How do you manage it then?" barked Arthur.

Merlin grinned. "I'm your servant. I just tell her I just gave you the same thing and you wanted her to have some too and she drinks it right down." Merlin pushed against Arthur's shoulder to get him to sit down and knelt to start dragging Arthur's boots back off. "That Damaris is a self-righteous sod. Tried to question me about you. Had to tell him I still had duties to you to get away from him, but I have a feeling I'm going to be ducking him a lot while he's here."

Arthur snorted. "So what's the plan, Merlin?"

"Plan?" asked Merlin blankly.

Arthur held up his hands as though he'd strangle his servant.

Merlin fell back onto his elbows and started babbling. "I'll need your keys in the morning. I need a piece of jewelry I can enchant to help us find Vivian's one true love. I'll have the spell ready by mid-morning, so you can take Vivian for a walk and give it to her then, but you'll be stuck with Cadby for the morning so don't soar over him the way you do with me. He's still in awe of you and hasn't figured out yet that you're just a man and a prat at that."

"Get it done tonight, Merlin," ordered Arthur, sitting back.

"Happen to have a pendant with a clear gem in your pocket that you wouldn't mind me enchanting?" asked Merlin irreverently, rising to his feet. He offered Arthur a hand up and the Prince batted it away.

"So you think you can go down to the vaults and take whatever suits you?" asked Arthur irritably, as he stepped behind the screen to change back into his nightclothes.

"No, of course not," Merlin assured him, bewildered that the Prince might think he would. "I'm going to take Gwen with me. I know she's been in that portion of the vaults with Morgana and she would know the difference between jewelry that belonged to your mother and what might have belonged to one of your great-aunts that you wouldn't mind giving away in a good cause."

Arthur poked his head out from behind the screen. "I suppose that makes some sense," he said, somewhat mollified. He headed to his bed, feeling suddenly exhausted.

"See?" teased Merlin. "When you know what's going on, I actually do make sense. I don't know what kind of lies I would have had to make up this time if you didn't, but I'm sure they would have been doozies and honestly, the more confusion generating, the better."

"Is this going to work, Merlin?" snapped the Prince as he burrowed under his covers.

"That depends on whether or not Vivian has a true love, if he's living, and if he's here."

"Oh, good God," moaned Arthur. "And if none of that is the case?"

Merlin nibbled at his cuff nervously. "Then Gaius thinks I should write a counter curse to break the spell myself."

Arthur sat up sharply, his eyes large. "Have you ever written a spell before?"

Merlin shook his head tightly. "No."

"Lord, have mercy!" cried Arthur laying down and flinging the covers over his head.

Merlin blew out the candles Arthur had lit. "Goodnight, my Lord," he said quietly and retreated from the room.

Arthur kicked his feet and burrowed more tightly under his blankets.

Chapter Text

Merlin threw open the heavy velvet curtains. "It's a beautiful morning!" he called with bluff heartiness.

Arthur dragged his covers over his head, grumbling, "It's too early to be morning."

Merlin bent over the bed. "Do I have to drag you out before I go? I don't trust Cadby to do it."

Arthur poked his nose out. "Go where?"

"The vaults," replied Merlin as though that should be obvious. "I just stopped to get your keys and make sure you were on your feet."

"You can't have my keys," said Arthur, pulling the blankets back over his face.

"Ah, planning to marry the mad Princess now, are you?"

Arthur poked his face back out. "I hate you."

"You're going to love me once we find Vivian's true love and get her out of Camelot."

"Love is too strong a word," moaned Arthur reaching into a drawer next to his bed and pulling out a heavy ring of keys.

Merlin opened his belt to string through the ring. "Written permission wouldn't be a bad idea either," he said, fastening it again.

"Most of the guards can't read," muttered Arthur, rolling onto his back. "Find Leon if you have any trouble. I'd tell you to find him first, but I want to know if the guards let you through too easily. I'll give them hell if they do."

Merlin slapped Arthur's foot through the blankets. "I'm not leaving until you're on your feet."

Arthur swung his legs around and, sitting up, slipped his feet to the floor. "Remind me again what you're good for?"

"Rescuing you from enchantments," said Merlin, letting his eyes glow briefly.

Teasingly, the Prince said, "You know your eyes are very pretty when you do that."

Merlin rolled his eyes and went to choose his master's clothing for the day. "Not a girl, Arthur."

"Thank God for that," grumbled Arthur. "I shudder to think what you'd be like during your monthly retirements."

Merlin bit back his reply as the door opened at that moment. Cadby slid his eyes around, taking in the room before stepping over the threshold; balancing jug, mug and plate. The young servant kept his eyes down as he arranged the Prince's breakfast on the table.

Arthur frowned down at the top of Cadby's head. He picked a sausage off his plate and shook it at the servant. "And what were you expecting to see, peering around the doorpost like that?"

"Nothing, Sire," replied Cadby turning his head so that Arthur could see his eyes but keeping it bowed.

"I don't think this is working out," said Arthur to Merlin.

"I thought we talked about the soaring," said Merlin hanging Arthur's clothes over the dressing screen.

"It would help if you could figure out what I actually need in a servant," said Arthur querulously.

"Someone who can put up with your extensive personality flaws?" asked Merlin.

"Someone who tells me what I need to know when I ask," said Arthur. "Which you manage to do only about half the time, but that's still about four times as much as any other servant I've had."

"You won't find anyone else, Sire," said Cadby quietly, keeping his head down.

Arthur crossed his arms over his chest severely. "If you've something to say, say it. And look at me when you do."

Cadby took a breath and looked up at his master. His head remained bent, but his gaze stayed steady. "You won't find another servant who'll take this post, Sire. Not right now. In fact I've just come from a conversation in the kitchen where several servants said just that."

Arthur leaned toward the young servant, causing him to squirm enough for the Prince to see what it cost him to not look away. "Why?"

"The sorcerer, Sire. No one will admit to saying anything, but there were several of us on the road back to Camelot when the fire erupted over the field we'd prepared with straw men. And then the rain… clouds don't gather that way, Sire. That story's got around now. Not hard to piece that together with what was said in the feasting hall the other night and," the servant paused to wet his dry mouth. "Rumors have been running heavily for a while but every servant in the palace is sure of it now that you're keeping a sorcerer and none want to run into him."

"Including you?" asked Arthur, hawk-eyed.

"Would rather not on my own. Safe enough if you're there, I suppose." Cadby shrugged in reluctant acceptance.

Arthur clapped him on the shoulder. "See? Now was that so bad?"

Cadby stared after him as the Prince withdrew behind the dressing screen. In shock, the servant glanced at Merlin and caught the look of incredulity the senior servant quickly wiped from his features. Hoping only Merlin would hear him, Cadby murmured, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to speak out of turn."

"About time you did," said Arthur over the screen as he dressed. "Merlin's learned over the years when he can and cannot be disrespectful. For now, you should probably hold your tongue unless you're sure we're in private - no one to hear your sass except Merlin at the most. And never fear a dismissal. How many times have I dismissed you, Merlin?"

"More than I can count, my Lord," replied Merlin caustically.

"And yet, every time I dismiss him, he turns up again like a bad penny. I'd have kept that second servant if he'd turned up again after I dismissed him, but I guess he didn't want the job that badly. Wouldn't have kept the first though. He tried to make Merlin look like an idiot and that's the one thing Merlin doesn't need any help with." Arthur reappeared around the screen, still adjusting his clothes. "Can you read, Cadby?" drawled the Prince, placing his hands on his hips and doing his best to be intimidating.

"Yes, Sire," replied the servant, unable to look away from the Prince's hawk-like gaze.

Arthur gestured with his head. "There's a rotation schedule on my desk that needs to be posted in the knight's hall. You'll see where the old one's hung. Off you go."

Cadby nodded, still bewildered. The schedule wasn't the only paper on the desk, nor was it on top, but he managed to pick it out quickly and hurried away.

"I thought you were giving me some long looks," said Arthur as soon as the door shut.

"I'll be on my way too then," said Merlin, taking long strides to the door, but Arthur intercepted him and grabbed his arm.

"Is this what you've been putting up with?" Arthur demanded, hauling his servant around to look at him. "All the other servants are afraid of the sorcerer?"

"Yes, of course it's what I've been putting up with," hissed Merlin. "Except I am the sorcerer they're afraid of."

"No, you aren't," said Arthur dropping his servant's arm. "They're afraid of a faceless shadow, Merlin."

Stress showing in his voice, Merlin argued, "They're afraid of magic, Arthur. Uther's made them afraid of magic."

Crossing his arms over his chest, Arthur replied, "And that's going to be the case for a long time." He raised an admonishing finger. "But those who know your secret would fight for you, Merlin. They aren't afraid."

"Gwen's afraid," gulped Merlin.

"Really? Then why are you taking her into the vaults with you this morning? You haven't asked her yet, have you? I'd bet ten gold pieces against your boots that she'll go with you all alone, won't even think to ask Elyan to accompany her. But then you'd lose your boots."

"Prat," said Merlin without any heat.

Arthur clapped a hand on Merlin's shoulder and shook him slightly. "This has to be hard. Flying in the face of established opinion always is. Concentrate on those who believe in you." Arthur turned Merlin toward the door, growling, "Now, get that spell done so I can send Vivian home. You're giving me enough to handle. I don't need a spoiled Lady to deal with too."

Merlin glared at the Prince's back as he turned away, but left feeling slightly better that at least he could be useful and Arthur's fear was fading.

Merlin rapped tentatively at Gwen's door. He rapped a little harder when there was no answer. "Gwen?" he called. Merlin hesitated. He didn't want to invade Gwen's privacy, or push her to accept him if she couldn't come to terms with his magic but he really did need her help. All he needed was to pick out the wrong jewel (i.e. anything Ygraine had ever worn) to bring the storm of both Arthur and Uther's fury down on his head. He put out a hand and withdrew it before cautiously opening the door and peering around it. "Gwen?" Merlin called again, stepping into the middle of the tidy room, but it didn't take much to see she wasn't there. Her bed was made, so Merlin thought she must have risen early.

He was just considering where she might be, the market or visiting Elyan being his more hopeful choices, when the door opened and Gwen crossed the threshold yawning. "Merlin?" she asked.

"Gwen. I hope I'm not visiting too early?" he asked hesitantly.

"No," she said shaking her head. "What can I do for you?"

"Oh, good," he said, smiling hopefully and stepping forward. He paused. "You have a uh…" he said pointing to a red stain just above her right breast. "Is that blood?"

She pulled the cloth away to look at it better. "Hmm, the baby must have gotten me."

"Baby?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, I was attending a birth." Gwen began to ramble, "Well, Phillipa was attending the birth but I had told Lalinda to send for me if she wanted me when her time came and she did. She lost her husband two months ago you know and I thought she might want some extra support when her time came. I mostly just held her hand but Phillipa had me take the baby for a bit while she took care of the afterbirth." Gwen paused at Merlin's grimace. "I'm sorry. Was there something you wanted?"

Merlin mentally jolted himself away from what she'd been saying. "Yes. Your help. Up at the castle, if you wouldn't mind."

Gwen glanced back down at the stain. "I'd better change then." She walked past him and freed the drape that curtained off a section of the cottage from its tie.

The light from the window was bright enough that Merlin could see her silhouette through the thin fabric of the drape as she knelt to retrieve a clean dress from a chest. He turned away, certainly not needing any reminder that his friend was a woman. It was just easier if he didn't think of her that way. "Should I step out?"

"No, you can stay," she said, her voice muffling slightly on cloth. "It seems I'm going to have a busy day today. Lalinda asked for me well after mid-night so I've not had much sleep. Luckily the labor was short. I had promised to help widow Rhian clean out her garden this morning so I hope your errand won't take too long. I'm supposed to watch Seren's children this afternoon so she can get her shopping done, it's hard with the triplets being toddlers. There's so much need in the world. You know, at first I was feeling sorry for myself. I wasn't happy about becoming a Lady. It makes me dependent on Elyan since I can't really work at anything. But I'm finding use for my free time making things a bit better for my neighbors."

Merlin turned at the sound of her step behind him to find her clothed in a light purple dress with flowers twining up from the hem and around the neckline. "Another new dress?" he asked politely.

She blushed and dimpled. "No, I just added some embroidery. Nothing in my wardrobe looks the same. I've had so much time on my hands. But once I stopped feeling sorry for myself, and really wasn't that ridiculous, I started finding so much need around me." Her eyes saddened. "Morgana… tried to help those in need for so many years. She was a good person and I was proud to help her efforts. Maybe now I can do some good on my own."

"You always have," Merlin assured her.

She blushed again under the praise and clasped her hands. "Well, how can I help you this morning?"

Now it was Merlin's turn to blush and he strangled slightly on his words. "I need a clear gem of good size." He made a circle of his thumb and forefinger.

Gwen shook her head in confusion. "I don't have anything like that," she said with an awkward smile.

"There are gems in the vaults that would do. I need to pick out something Arthur won't mind giving up. Morgana wore some of the family jewels occasionally. I thought you'd know the precious family heirlooms from what's valuable but not valued. "

Gwen frowned. "This is for your magic?"

Merlin ducked his head. "Yeah."

"And Arthur knows and approves?"

Merlin jingled the keys hanging from his belt. "It's the first time he's ever let me take his keys. He really wants to get Vivian cured and out of Camelot."

Gwen worried her lip with her teeth. "And you need a… diamond?"

"What? No," said Merlin, his brows knitting together. "A good clear piece of quartz would do to hold the enchantment but it has to be something that Vivian will wear. Though really, she'll probably wear anything Arthur hangs around her neck no matter how ugly."

"So a garnet or an amethyst…?"

"Yes," agreed Merlin enthusiastically. "Either would work. But nothing Ygraine ever wore. I wouldn't want Arthur to give Vivian something he'll miss later."

"And this will break the spell?"

Merlin cocked his head to one side. "It's to find her one true love so he can break the spell."

"All right," said Gwen determinedly. "Let's go."

Merlin noticed she kept the determined look on her face all the way to the vaults. To get past the guard there, Merlin had to point out that not only was he Prince Arthur's personal servant and he had the keys by permission but he was also with the Lady Guinevere who was certainly above reproach and would the guard like for Merlin to summon Sir Elyan, who surely wouldn't be pleased at this insult to his sister? Merlin wondered if that would be counted as getting past the guard too easily, but he thought not as Arthur wouldn't want the guards to question Gwen no matter what she chose to do.

Once inside the vaults, Merlin let Gwen lead, having never needed to fetch out jewelry for Arthur. He had to unlock a second but unguarded gate and then a third which opened onto a room lined floor to ceiling on three sides with dark wooden drawers and cabinets.

Gwen worried her lip with her teeth as she opened several of the flattest drawers, displaying necklaces, pendants and torques laid out for display on velvet. Some she closed immediately but four were left open when she had finished. She turned to Merlin. "There. I don't believe Ygraine ever wore any of those. I know Morgana was allowed to choose any of them to wear."

"Not the diamonds," said Merlin pointing to a spectacular necklace Morgana had been allowed to wear on a few special occasions.

"Ok," agreed Gwen, closing the drawer.

Merlin frowned and wouldn't look at Gwen. Negligently he picked up a golden collar set with nine teardrop garnets in groups of three. "This will do."

"Merlin, what's wrong?" asked Gwen, who was quite well acquainted with her friend's moods.

"Nothing," said Merlin closing the rest of the drawers. "We should go."

"I've offended you," said Gwen. "I'd like to know how."

"It's fine, Gwen," said Merlin tightly.

"No, it's not," said Gwen, stepping between Merlin and the door.

Merlin crossed his arms over his chest and tried to stare her down. Gwen threw back her shoulders and met his glower unwaveringly.

"This isn't working is it?" asked the sorcerer.

"Not a bit," said Gwen with a twitch at her lips.

Merlin blew out an exasperated breath. "It just seems like almost everyone who finds out about my magic needs to have a poke and a prod to see what I'll do next."

"Merlin, I wasn't." said Gwen sincerely. "Who's made you feel like that?"

"Arthur, mostly," said Merlin turning away from her self-consciously. "but even Gauis… well, all he did was knock over a bucket of water. Arthur hit me with a candle holder." He tipped his head to one side thoughtfully. "And then he tried to sack me, but he does that on a regular basis anyway so…"

"I'm sorry you've been made to feel that way," murmured Gwen, staring up at her friend earnestly. "You said you didn't need diamonds. I shouldn't have even offered them, but I didn't mean it as a test. I just wanted to give you all the options. Forgive me?"

A blush and embarrassed smile broke through his apprehension as he settled his arms around her. "Nothing to forgive. I should have known better."

Gwen smiled up at him gently. "I had my little breakdown, Merlin. I'm not going to fall apart like that again."

Honest confusion showed in his eyes. "So you trust me?"

"Of course," she said, throwing back her shoulders, but he could tell she was holding back a bit.

"Really?" he asked with a slightly raised eyebrow. "Gwen, I value your honesty."

Her dimples appeared under a slight flush of her cheeks. "I trust you. Of course I trust you. I still don't understand how having magic could have transformed Morgana so horribly, but Arthur thinks you'll be alright and if you've had it all your life, I suppose it won't change you the way it changed her."

Merlin bent his head trying to catch her gaze. Gently, he said, "Magic didn't change Morgana, hatred did. I've lived with that all my life too, but I've also always had people who knew and loved me."

Gwen smiled up at him again and caught his hand. "Count me among them?"

"Of course," he said with a mischievous grin he didn't quite feel. He held up the collar. "If that's all sorted, let's go show this to Arthur."

They stowed away the jewelry and found a tray to carry the collar in. Merlin let Gwen lead the way up to Arthur's chambers, as befit their respective ranks. He pushed the door open for her to precede him and found Arthur writing at his desk.

The Prince glanced up and did a pleased double take at the sight of Gwen. "Guinevere," he said in greeting before glancing over her head at his servant. "Did I win our bet?"

"Arthur," said Gwen reprovingly, "it's not gentlemanly to admit you bet on a lady and less so to do so in front of the lady in question."

"My apologies," said the Prince, taking her hand and kissing it, his eyes sparkling at her the whole while. "You've got it?" he asked Merlin.

"A moment," replied the sorcerer. Then his voice deepened with the syllables of an ancient language as his eyes glowed golden.

Gwen's grip tightened on Arthur's and he squeezed back reassurance.

"There," said Merlin. He held up the collar in front of Gwen's face. "May I?"

"Of course," she assented, her cheeks dimpling as her mouth tightened.

Merlin worried at his lip as he stepped around her and settled the collar at her neck. "Now, if I've done this right…" he said as he fastened it. It surprised him that she didn't flinch at his touch, having just performed a spell in front of her.

"It's glowing," said Arthur, a pleased smile lighting his face as he stared at the gem sitting daintily above his beloved's breast.

Gwen craned her head to look awkwardly at the glowing center gem.

"That's because you're here," said Merlin. "If you step out into the corridor, it will dim."

Arthur squeezed Gwen's fingers again and walked out, closing the door behind him. He was gone only a beat before returning.

"It went out," said Gwen, "but it lit again as soon as you opened the door."

"That's it then?" asked Arthur, wrapping his arms around Gwen's waist. "We just have to get Vivian's true love in the same room with her while she's wearing it?"

"Well, first you have to get it around her neck," said Merlin archly.

"Not a problem," said Arthur stiffly. His fingers reached for the clasp at the nape of Guinevere's neck as she lowered her eyes. He tipped her chin up instead. "You know I don't want to do this, don't you?"

Her eyes wouldn't meet his. "What? Play the dashing suitor to a crazy woman? No, Arthur, I understand. I always understand."

The Prince dropped a light kiss to Gwen's lips. "You are more than I could ever deserve."

Her lips twitched into a brief smile that lit her dimples. "You're my one true love." She touched the collar. "This confirms it. But you need it for someone else now." She reached up to unfasten the clasp.

"Here," said Arthur turning her so he could reach it easily. "One day…"

"One day," she confirmed as he slid the collar from her neck. Turning toward him again she wrapped her fingers around the fist that now held the collar. "Now go."

"As my Lady commands," the Prince confirmed, once again raising her fingers to his lips.

As the Prince slipped out the door, Merlin began looking around the room for something to do. Cadby had already made up the bed, swept out the fireplace, cleared away the dishes and was presumably elsewhere doing the laundry judging by the lack of a basket. Merlin pulled the box of candles from the antechamber and began changing out the ones that had burned too low.

"So that's it?" asked Gwen, startling Merlin slightly.

He gave her a smile but didn't interrupt his work. "That's it."

"So you're this eldritch sorcerer and then you just change back into the devoted servant?"

"No," he said, pausing with his hand in the candlebox, grimacing at her choice of words. "I'm a sorcerer and a servant. There's no change. And where do you get eldritch from? Who even says eldritch?"

A short giggle burst from Gwen's lips, but she sobered quickly, staring at Merlin uncomprehendingly.

"Gwen, what is it?" asks Merlin, lifting a hand as though he would touch her face, but he refrained when she dropped her gaze.

"I'm sorry. It's just that, growing up in Camelot under Uther's rule, there was kind of this image of sorcerers, you know?" She looked back up at him and he could see the determination in her eyes he'd seen earlier in the vaults. "A sorcerer was this person who worked in the dark brewing up poisons and evil spells to destroy everything honest people worked for. And the image of you being like that is just so ridiculous for a moment it was funny." Gwen wrapped her arms around Merlin and laid her head against his shoulder. "Oh, Merlin, I love you as much as I love Elyan. And if anyone can handle being an amazingly powerful sorcerer without it going to their head, it's you."

Merlin wrapped his arms around her lightly and stammered, "I'm not… Gwen, you mustn't think I'm more than I am. I do my best, but… I don't always win. That image you have of evil sorcerers… there are more than a few who think they're fighting for their existence." Wryly he added, "or just for revenge. A lot want revenge on Uther and don't care who else gets hurt. And here I am stumbling over my own feet trying to protect Arthur when he's the one who'll make things better for everyone."

Gwen smiled up at him. "You really believe that, don't you?"

"Of course." Merlin smiled back at her. "Arthur will be King. He'll change the law when he sees it's unfair."

"Hmm," said Gwen stepping away from the sorcerer.

Merlin's face fell. If there was anyone he expected would understand it would be her. Earnestly, he said, "Gwen, I've met other magic users who are what you just called 'honest people.' They just want to live their lives, grow their crops and raise their children. They only hide their magic because they'd be killed if they didn't."

"Then they should be free to go about their lives," said Gwen certainly.

"Are you sure?" asked Merlin. "Because you look like…"

She met his eyes challengingly. "Like I'm having a hard time getting over that image?"

He nodded, frowning.

"Children shouldn't be persecuted for having magic. They're innocent. And if their parents haven't committed any other crime besides having magic, then why should that be a crime?" Gwen sighed. "Don't think less of me, Merlin, but yes that image of evil sorcerers is still in my head and I can't seem to banish it despite the fact that I believe in you or that I once helped a child who had magic." She pressed the heels of her hands to her forehead. "I'd will it away if I could."

"That's terrifying." Merlin took her by the wrists and pulled her hands down. "Gwen, you are one of the best people I know. If that's lodged in your mind, what's in everyone else's?"

He turned away from her and Gwen rested a hand comfortingly on his shoulder. "You have friends among the knights and they know."

Merlin snorted. "Leon still doesn't trust me. Lancelot does, not always sure about the others. And Arthur…" his voice softened, "Arthur's really struggled with knowing I had magic, but his fear is fading. I think he just made up his mind to accept it and so he did." Merlin turned back to Gwen and leaned his back against the wall for support. "How many people do I have to convince that magic isn't evil before I run into someone I don't have to convince?"

"I don't know," admitted Gwen, "but I know you'll have help. Mine, for one."

Merlin crossed his arms over his chest. "As good a friend as you are Gwen, what can you do?"

"I don't know yet." Gwen flashed him a smile. "It might be a while before I do. But something will turn up." She patted his arm and left with such a confident spring in her step that she looked ready to take on the world.

Merlin fervently hoped she wouldn't on his account.

Agravaine tapped his fingers impatiently on the coverlet, wondering if he should risk getting up on his own. It irked him that the servant hadn't appeared yet. Surely Arthur should be busy squiring the Lady Vivian around the gardens by now; the sunlight streaming in the window indicated that it was mid-morning. He'd paid the man enough to be sure he was awakened while Arthur was otherwise engaged.

Of course it was a bit of a risk to use one of the servants this way. Merlin was nosy enough to find out and Arthur would listen to his servant. But it was unlikely that he'd find out anytime soon and the Prince could hardly object to Agravaine having so slight a lie-in after he'd arrived well after midnight the night before; no need for Arthur to know that that had been by his own contrivance. Agravaine would merely say that he intended to dress while Arthur was occupied and attend him as soon as the Prince was free.

A knock sounded at the door. "Finally!" thought Agravaine collapsing back into the pillow to feign sleep.

"My Lord," huffed the chubby servant as he dropped plate, mug, and jug to the table. "My Lord!"

Agravaine's eyes snapped open at the sound of approaching steps. Better that the servant didn't touch him. "Is it morning already?" he yawned.

"Mid-morning, my Lord," nodded the servant. "Just like you wanted. His Highness has just gone to attend the Lady Vivian."

"Oh, yes, that's right," said Agravaine, swinging his bare legs over the edge of the bed and scrubbing his face with his hands.

"I've brought your breakfast, my Lord."

Agravaine reached for a drawstring purse on his night table. "So you have. Well done, my man. Here's a coin for you."

"Thank you, my Lord," said the servant, bowing several times. "Anything else I can do for you? Anything at all, my Lord?"

"No, no. Off with you while I get with the day," said Agravaine affably. As soon as the door shut behind the servant, Agravaine grabbed the roll from his plate and stuffed it into his mouth. He'd laid out his clothes behind the screen the night before and was into them as fast as he could, snatching bites of breakfast in between his fastenings. He grabbed the package and letters from Morgana from his mantelpiece and strode out the door, forcing himself not to hurry and to look at least a bit haggard.

He had to go to the second window with a decent overlook of the gardens to find King Olaf. When he did he hung back at the nearest archway. He shuffled his feet as though reluctant to approach.

"Yes? What is it?" barked Olaf without turning around.

"I apologize for having interrupted you," said Agravaine smoothly. He bowed and turned to go.

"Well, what did you want?" demanded Olaf finally turning toward Agravaine.

"I merely wished to see if Arthur was coming in soon," said Agravaine, gesturing toward the window. I wouldn't want to interrupt him."

Olaf snorted and turned back to the window. "Arthur won't stay with Vivian any longer than he thinks he has to as a gentleman."

Agravaine came up beside Olaf to look out the window. Olaf scowled at him and Agravaine stepped back, managing to catch his heel and trip; not enough to go sprawling but enough to lose his grip on the letters and package. The letters he let fall, but the package danced hand to hand as he tried to get a grip.

Olaf snatched it from him and held it under his nose as Agravaine regained his balance.

"Thank you, Sire," said Agravaine, blushing with seeming embarrassment, "though actually that one is yours."

"Then why didn't you give it to me at once?" demanded Olaf.

"It's from the Lady Morgana. You must know that Arthur has reservations…"

Olaf thundered, "Did Arthur tell you to withhold my mail?"

Agravaine dropped his eyes. "No, of course not, Sire. I merely thought that Arthur would want to be present…"

Olaf ripped open the package revealing a small vial and a brief note that read, "For your daughter." "What's this?" demanded the King, holding the vial so close to Agravaine's nose that the Lord nearly crossed his eyes trying to see it.

"I'm not sure, Sire. I did mention to the Lady Morgana that King Uther suggested that she might be able to cure the Lady Vivian." He hesitated, watching Olaf's unusually introspective reaction. "She was somewhat upset that Uther would wish her to do so without magic, but then she became thoughtful. She disappeared for an hour or so and when she came back, she had this package for you."

Olaf held the vial up to the sunlight, hope and fear warring on his face. Then he snatched the vial close to his chest. "You will say nothing of this to Arthur. Nothing, you understand?" asked the King waving a finger in Agravaine's face.

Agravaine bowed apologetically. "Arthur is my kin and Lord. If he should ask, I could deny him nothing. But I will keep silent as long as he does not, in deference to your Majesty."

Olaf called to Sir Granady, who had been loitering nearby. "Take this to my quarters and guard it with your life," said the King, handing the vial to his trusted knight. As Granady retreated, Olaf gave Agravaine a glare of dismissal.

Agravaine hurriedly gathered the letters he'd dropped and scurried away, hiding his delight until he was well out of sight. He allowed himself one brief mad grin before schooling his features back to a reluctant and weary obedience. Agravaine proceeded to Arthur's chamber door, certain the Prince would return there before any other appointment.

It wasn't long before Arthur appeared. "Uncle," the Prince grunted on his way past, but he left the door open, clearly expecting Agravaine to follow him. "Merlin," he said, calling his manservant to him. Merlin left off dusting the mantle as Arthur pulled his collar open and bent his neck, exposing fresh bloody scratch marks.

"That woman is a menace," said Merlin, fetching a clean cloth and a bowl of water.

Arthur groaned, "And she likes me." He sat on the edge of the table to allow Merlin to clean the scratches and apply a salve. He reached a hand toward Agravaine for the letters he carried. Agravaine gave him his, which Arthur read quickly while Merlin worked. He snorted and looked back up at his Uncle. "And the other?"

"It's for your father," said Agravaine deferentially.

Arthur reached a hand out for it.

"You're actually going to read it?" asked Agravaine, allowing Arthur to take it anyway. "Uther won't like that at all."

"He doesn't need to know." Arthur shoved the letter at Merlin. Haughtily, he said, "Open it for me. I'm well aware you manage to read my correspondence without breaking the seal. I don't want to know how."

Merlin dried his hands on a towel and took the letter, giving Arthur a scorching look and disappearing briefly into the antechamber. When he came back he had the letter in one hand and the wax seal, unbroken, in the other.

Arthur took the letter from him and began to read. His back quickly stiffened and his lips pursed. "Truly, Uncle, if you can't come back from Morgana with something better than this, I don't know why I should allow you to go."

"I can't help what Morgana writes, Arthur," said Agravaine contritely.

"She's poisoning his mind even further," said Arthur folding the letter carefully and handing it back to Merlin to reseal.

"He thinks he's bringing her back to the fold," said Agravaine reasonably.

"And she's allowing him to think that!" snapped Arthur.

A distant disturbance drew Merlin's attention and he strode to the open door to listen, leaving letter and seal on the mantle as he passed.

Arthur raised his voice angrily as he followed his servant. He could make out his name being screeched distantly, which was nothing new, but the sound was coming closer. Vivian must have gotten loose and he might have to deal with her if her knights couldn't catch her. "According to Morgana everything is my fault. She's totally sympathetic about Father's 'imprisonment,' as if she never threw him in the cells. I'm trying to give Father a chance to heal from her mistreatment! And here she is claiming to be my victim…Geez!" Arthur's mouth dropped open at the sight soaring down the corridor.

Vivian's head bobbed above the golden collar that now rested on a fowl body covered in dirty white feathers, her wingtips brushing opposite sides of the corridor. "Arthur, Arthur, Arthur," cawed Vivian, her hair streaming out behind her as she soared in pursuit of her love, raptor's claws reaching out for him.

Merlin slammed the door closed between them and pressed his back against it. They heard the impact of Vivian's claws and a fearful tearing at the door as she continued to screech Arthur's name, punctuated by "beloved" at intervals.

"Good luck getting someone to kiss that!" said Merlin as he arched away from the door so Arthur could slide the bar across it.

Men's voices could be heard from the other side of the door. Apparently, Vivian's protector knights had caught up. "Don't hurt her!" bellowed Olaf's voice.

"What are you waiting for?" bellowed Arthur at Agravaine. "Get out there!"

"How?" asked Agravaine, holding up his hands in bewilderment.

"Through the servant's entrance," snarled Arthur.

Agravaine looked shocked at such a suggestion but another look at the fury on the Prince's face and he scampered.

"I thought you liked beautiful women who turned into winged monsters?" snarled Arthur at Merlin as a claw splintered its way through the door by Merlin's head.

"She's not my type. Feathers, yuck," said Merlin backing away from the door.

The sound of Vivian's cawing retreated suddenly, along with the knights' voices.

Master and servant glanced at each other and approached the door, listening carefully. Vivian's screeches became louder, but muffled somehow. Behind them a paned window shattered, spilling glass shards and wood splinters everywhere as Vivian sailed into the room, oblivious to the damage and shrieking Arthur's name in triumph.

Merlin stepped in front of the Prince and raised a hand. His voice deepened in command and Vivian smashed backward into a wall. She bounced quickly to her talonned feet, shaking her head and calling determinedly for her beloved. Merlin roared out another string of arcane syllables and the revolting bird toppled over in a dead faint.

"Is she dead?" asked Arthur, approaching cautiously.

"No," replied Merlin, "and I'm not sure how long she'll stay asleep. We need to get her into a cell."

Arthur shook his head. "I doubt Olaf would allow us to take her to a cell. A cage, in her own chambers. That way she can be properly tended."

"Whatever you think best," said Merlin rolling his eyes at the ways of royalty as he unbarred the door.

The Rheggian knights returned, huffing from their pursuit. They spilled into Arthur's chambers, making way for their King. Olaf fell to his knees by his daughter's side, holding out a hand but not daring to touch. "Is she dead?"

"No," said Arthur, striding forward. "Merlin…" he began, but checked himself, remembering almost too late the need to hide the sorcerer's magic, "… got her with a broom handle."

"Your servant…?" shouted Olaf.

Arthur overtopped him. "Did what was necessary! What I want to know is how this happened."

Olaf spluttered. "Morgana. Sent a potion."

"Morgana? You trusted Morgana? Is every King my Father's age suffering from early senility? What part of 'she walked an undead army into Camelot and crowned herself Queen' would lead you to believe that Morgan was trustworthy?"

"Your sorcerer hasn't done any better!" shouted Olaf, lumbering to his feet.

"He also didn't turn her into a harpy," stressed Arthur, stepping into Olaf's personal space. "A little patience might have gotten you what you wanted, but oh no, you had to go for an easy answer offered by a known traitor. Look what you've done to your daughter by letting Morgana cozen you with false promises."

Olaf's red face crumpled. Quietly, breathlessly, he asked, "Arthur, your sorcerer… this Emrys… could he…"

"Restore your daughter? Probably," spat the Prince, "though I know what he's going to say when I ask and you're going to owe me several barrels of fine mead for the number of excuses I'll have to allay. Not to mention that it's likely to involve doing something inadvisable, possibly a quest, and it almost certainly isn't going to be a quick fix."

Olaf looked so shamefaced Arthur could have almost felt sorry for him. "If there's a quest, my knights will undertake it."

"That's fine," said Arthur still scowling. "For now, we need to get the Lady Vivian secured before she wakes."

"We'll take her to her chambers," said Olaf, motioning to his knights. Her four knight protectors stepped forward and slipped hands under Vivian's body, her head lolling down over her breast and her wings dragging.

"I believe I know where a cage might be found to contain her," said Arthur, not mentioning he meant to check his kennels. At Olaf's start of surprise, Arthur gestured toward his shattered window. "Her chambers won't hold her."

Olaf grunted a reluctant assent and followed his knights with head bowed.

"I'll get a broom," said Merlin when he was once again alone with the Prince.

"Leave it, Emrys," commanded Arthur in a low voice. Arthur checked the corridor and shoved the door closed, frowning at the damage. He caught Merlin by the arm and dragged him toward the bed, as far away from the hole in the door as he could manage, remembering that Agravaine hadn't reappeared with the Rheggian knights and assuming for safety's sake that he was lurking with intent. "So how long will it take you to turn Vivian back?"

Merlin's mouth dropped open in shock. "I don't even know if I can! How could you promise Olaf?" Arthur motioned to Merlin to keep his voice down and the sorcerer modulated his tone though his eyes promised mayhem. "I don't even know what that thing is. How do you know what it is?"

"Father may not approve of magic, but he does approve of young Princes receiving a classical education. That thing is straight out of the Iliad or the Odyssey."

"Never heard of them."

Arthur placed his hands on his hips. "No wonder your education is sorely lacking. Best adventure stories ever. You can borrow my copies - after you change Vivian back."

Merlin sputtered and looked like he was about to yell, but a quelling look from Arthur dropped his next words to a hiss. "I've never had to break a transformation spell before."

"What about when I had the donkey ears?" asked Arthur.

"That was a matter of capturing the goblin who'd cast the spell," said Merlin flatly.

"There has to be a way," insisted Arthur.

"I'll check my books," said Merlin, "but it's a matter of finding the spell that was cast and even if I can, there might not be a counterspell. I don't have that many magic books you know, Uther burned most of them."

Arthur threw up his hands in frustration. "What about writing a new spell? You said Gaius suggested you try it if you couldn't find Vivian's one true love."

"I've never written a spell before, Arthur," said Merlin tightly. "You have no idea how dangerous that is. It could go all wrong; have strange side effects or costs I wouldn't realize until after I cast it."

Arthur growled intensely, "I don't care about the cost!"

"Never say that," hissed Merlin, just as passionately. "Your father didn't care what it cost to bring you into the world and it cost your mother's life!"

Arthur shut his eyes tightly, listening to the heavy sound of his breathing, listening to the same from Merlin. He turned and looked at his sorcerer. Forcing himself to be calm he said, "You're right. I do care about the cost. I wouldn't want to rob anyone of their life to restore Vivian's humanity but I want her humanity restored."

Merlin laid a hand on Arthur's arm. "I'm sorry, Arthur, but I've learned the hard way that with magic, one always needs to count the cost."

The Prince smiled a little ruefully. "That's not unlike politics." Arthur suddenly took Merlin's face in both hands. "You can do this. Go to your books. Find what you can." His hands moved to Merlin's shoulders. "I'll keep Olaf settled. And Father. And try to keep Agravaine on a leash. Just do this for me, ok? Preferably without killing anyone or cursing Camelot for all time."

Merlin grasped Arthur's arm comfortingly just as Cadby walked in with the laundry basket, staring around at the carnage.

"It's just a little mess, yeah?" said Merlin as he slipped past the junior servant.

As he followed Merlin out, Arthur asked Cadby, "Inform the castle carpenter I'll be needing his services before you clear that up, will you?"

Merlin ignored Agravaine as he passed him returning to Arthur's chambers, but Arthur raised his arms and called out, "Uncle!" with a grim smile. He crossed his arms over his chest as the two of them met. "Give me one good reason why your head and your shoulders should not part company."

Agravaine paled visibly. "Arthur, I have no idea why you would…"

"You brought Olaf a potion from Morgana. A potion that turned the Lady Vivian into a harpy - literally."

Agravaine stammered, "I did warn King Olaf that you would have reservations…"

"Oh, I'm sure you did, Uncle. But I think I would have preferred to have given that advice to Olaf myself. Perhaps a night in the dungeons will remind you where your loyalties should lie; with your sister's son, not my bastard sister. Guards!"

Agravaine bowed to Arthur deferentially and allowed the guards to lead him away. Arthur watched his retreating back and wondered if he'd do better to make good on his threat. Why, he wondered, couldn't he have one person in his family he could trust?

He frowned and turned toward his Father's chambers. The King would want an update on this latest development and he wouldn't appreciate a delay. He thought there was no chance that Uther wouldn't have heard the commotion, but when he slipped into the King's chamber, he found his Father deeply asleep, his face ashen in the afternoon light. Arthur reassured himself that his Father was still breathing and then indulged himself by watching the King sleep for a few moments, wishing his Father would wake and be the man he once had been, wondering if he ever would be again, and finally concluding that even if he would, they'd still be at odds.

Uther had explained to him that it was lonely being King. Arthur finally understood what that meant.

Chapter Text

Arthur entered his chambers after a morning of training that did little to relieve the stress of the previous days, wanting out of his sweaty armor and hoping to find Merlin in his chambers instead of Cadby. He'd seen little of his friend since Vivian's transformation two days ago and knew the sorcerer was busy pouring over his books searching for a counterspell. But even so, at the sound of movement around the corner by his bed, he called out hopefully, "Merlin?"

"Yes, Arthur," rasped an elderly voice.

Arthur's head snapped around, instantly looking for the intruder. A tall thin old man dressed in dull orange robes with a white beard and long white hair stepped out from around the bed, where he'd been hiding. The light from the window cast a shadow that somewhat obscured his face, but Arthur recognized him nonetheless. "You!" exclaimed Arthur, snatching a sword from the barrel in which he kept several.

"Now, Arthur, really," scolded the man with a twist of his lips, the Great Dragoon, as Arthur's memory told him; a sorcerer who'd escaped him once.

Arthur raised his sword to strike and ran forward, not wanting to give Dragoon a chance to defend himself, no matter how elderly he was. He felt the man's spell seize and hold him, from his upraised arm to his knees, just as Merlin had seized him in their practice bouts. He struggled, but realizing it was no good he drew in a breath to scream for his guards. A word from the sorcerer's lips silenced him, no sound emerging from his throat no matter how loudly he shrieked the words. Where was Merlin? Had the sorcerer already defeated him? Or could he come walking in at any moment? Could he win a battle arcane against an ancient sorcerer? Arthur's Mother had proclaimed Merlin to be the most powerful sorcerer of his generation, but he was still young, inexperienced, in a way that this sorcerer most definitely was not. Arthur struggled against invisible bonds determined not to panic. All was not lost. There were those within the castle who could defeat the sorcerer. They'd trained for this and Arthur would put his faith in his men.

The sorcerer watched with wry amusement on his lips as all this passed through the Prince's mind. He shook his head. "You really don't pay me any attention, do you, Arthur?"

'I'll pay you some attention, old man,' thought the Prince, still struggling to regain control over his sword and his voice.

Dragoon shuffled forward slightly, so that the shadow fell away and Arthur could get a better look at his face. "If nothing else, Highness, you should remember that I did you a favor once; taking the blame for Morgana's trickery to gain your future Queen's release from a sentence of execution."

Arthur was momentarily stunned by that version of what had happened. Memories replayed across his mind's eye and compared to the current situation. Dragoon hadn't evinced such powers as he now displayed the last time they'd met. The sorcerer had been captured easily, confessed everything to Uther, made no move to use his magic until his escape and then… well, he had made a grab at Gaius, but other than that, he'd simply created a diversion and run… right by Merlin. Could Merlin have deliberately let the old man escape? Helped him even?

"Finally thinking, I see," rumbled the sorcerer in mild disgust. "I'm going to let you go now, Arthur, if you're ready to talk instead of fight?"

Arthur nodded his head as much as his bonds would allow and then suddenly the pressure was gone and Arthur had to catch himself from falling. His body shook in reaction to anger and relief. "What have you done with Merlin?" he demanded.

The sorcerer chuckled. "That should be obvious."

Arthur sidestepped to his left, starting to circle his opponent, shifting his grip on his sword and looking for a better opening. He noticed Merlin's medicine bag, the one Gaius had given him, lying against the pillows of his bed and his servant's silk lined cloak that he hadn't worn since the day it had been delivered draped over the end. He took another step hoping he wouldn't discover his servant lying on the floor defeated. Relief flowed through him when he could see the spot that would have been hidden from the door by the bed. 'Keep him talking, distract him,' he thought. "What do you want? Why would you come here?" he demanded.

The sorcerer gazed steadily into his eyes, his lips twisted as though enjoying a small joke and inviting the Prince to share it with him. "I'm always here, Arthur."

"You live in Camelot then?" asked the Prince.

"In the castle," the sorcerer assured him, his eyes dancing with laughter.

Arthur grimaced. "You can't live in the castle."

"Sure I can," said the sorcerer merrily. "I work for a stuck-up prat of a prince."

"Merlin?" the word popped out of the Prince's mouth before his brain could even catch up. The old man nodded. Arthur threw his sword so that it clattered flat to the floor and surged forward, his hands grasping for the old man's face.

Dragoon stepped back, his storm blue eyes widening in mild fright, but no magic surged as Arthur took hold of the long hair at the base of his neck and caught his beard with the other hand. "Ow, ow," complained the sorcerer as Arthur tugged experimentally, determining that both were real.

"You… horrid… awful… rotten…I was worried about you, Idiot!" Arthur shoved Merlin away.

Merlin stumbled backward. "You should show more respect for your elders," he complained.

Arthur huffed. "Elders? Merlin, you're three years younger than I am."

"Not at the moment," rasped Merlin, stretching his back. "I used an aging spell and I am most anxious to take the antidote. I hate being eighty years old."

"Why would you do that?"

"I have the spell to change Vivian back, but I'm going to have to brew it in her presence and there is no way that Olaf is going to remove his guard long enough for me to do that without his knowing about it."

"So you will have to meet him."

"No one recognized me before, Arthur. You didn't until I basically told you who I was. When I'm done, Emrys will just disappear again."

Arthur considered that a moment. "And you're sure the spell will work?"

Emrys/Merlin appeared to wilt slightly, giving Arthur a look like he'd gotten lost in his own magic. He started babbling. "I think it will. There wasn't anything that would work in any of the books, so I did what you asked and wrote it myself. I've never done anything like that before. I mean a word or two, but not a complex spell. I thought Gaius should do it, he has the experience, but he said it had to be my magic so it had to be my writing. He checked it though and he thinks it will work, so I guess it will."

Arthur stared at the old man, whose voice he still didn't recognize but whose gestures betrayed all of Merlin's insecurities and vague hesitation. The Prince frowned. Hesitation in battle would get one killed. What would insecurity do to a spell? "I can't let you do it then."

"What? Why not?" croaked Emrys.

Arthur half turned away to hide the smile that threatened to twitch his lips. Arthur knew what Merlin could do when he wanted to, when he didn't have time to think about it, but just acted. He'd had too much time to think; too much time to consider what would happen if he failed. Arthur would have to restore his confidence and a bit of tit-for-tat would do his servant no harm. He schooled his countenance into a frown. "Olaf will hold Camelot responsible if you fail."

"I know that, Arthur," moaned Emrys, one shoulder dipping in defeat.

"Well, then," said Arthur, straightening and turning to face his servant, his feet braced apart and arms crossing over his chest, pulling all of his command presence to him like a mantle, "clearly, you can't do it then."

"It will work, Arthur," pleaded Emrys. "Gaius checked it."

"Gaius isn't my sorcerer, you are," said Arthur firmly. "And clearly you don't think it will work."

"It will work!" insisted Emrys, becoming angry.

"You just said…"

"I said I'd had it checked as thoroughly as I could without actually trying it," said the sorcerer, exasperation coloring his voice.

Arthur stepped up toe to toe with the sorcerer. "If you try and fail we go to war."

"And if I don't try, we'll end up at war anyway," said Merlin/Emrys bitterly.

Arthur clapped him on the shoulder. "Exactly. And when I go to that battle I will approach every enemy confident that I will win, because anything less will get me killed." Arthur grabbed Merlin by both shoulders, staring directly into his eyes. "This spell is going to work. If you believe anything else, it will fail. So make me believe you."

Merlin's eyes met the Prince's gaze steadily. "It will work. I will make it work. I will not have the deaths war will bring on my conscience."

Arthur released him and stepped around Merlin to his bed. "Those deaths should be on Morgana's conscience, but I doubt she has one any more." He picked up Merlin's cloak and settled it on his sorcerer's shoulders, pulling up the hood to hide his face. His blue eyes caught and held Merlin's once again. "You are the most powerful sorcerer in this kingdom. Morgana is nothing more than the mongrel bitch nipping at your heels. Show that to Olaf."

Merlin/Emrys bowed slightly. "As you command, my King."

Arthur frowned. "I'm not the king."

Merlin's eyes shone at his monarch. "You are my King. Uther cannot command my magic, only you can do that."

Uncomfortable, Arthur turned him towards the door. "Let's just keep that to ourselves for a while, shall we?"

"As you will, Highness," Emrys said slinging the strap of his medicine bag over his shoulder. "I'm going to need this. I left a kettle and plenty of water in Vivian's room earlier. Didn't fancy hauling it through the castle with these old bones."

Arthur snorted. "You, planning. I can't quite get used to you being competent, you've been hiding behind your bumbling so long. Walk behind me and try not to trip over your own feet."

Arthur checked to make sure the corridor was empty before emerging with Emrys behind him, but they'd not gone more than ten paces before more than one set of footsteps sounded on the stairs. Arthur halted at the top of the stair, not wanting a confrontation on uneven ground, his expression hardening as he caught sight of his uncle's unwelcome countenance followed by Sir Gwaine and Sir Kay.

"Arthur," breathed Agravaine, "Is it truly necessary to have knights follow me at all hours?"

Arthur crossed his arms over his chest. "I haven't ordered any such, Uncle."

"Then…"

"But neither am I going to order my knights to leave you alone either. I have good reason to be annoyed with you, and don't even think about returning to Morgana without my express permission if you expect to keep your head."

"I've no wish to return to the witch, I assure you," said Agravaine passionately. "I am livid that she used me in such a manner."

Becoming used to Agravaine's ways, Arthur thought he could spot the kernel of truth in his uncle's speech. He was livid… at his ally. But Arthur could also spot that Agravaine's eyes were not on his, but peering just past his ear.

Arthur would have summarily dismissed his uncle if at that moment Sir Gwaine had not asked, "Who's this?" pointing at the robed figure behind the Prince.

Warningly, Arthur said, "Sir Gwaine, you should know Emrys."

"Emrys?" asked Gwaine, stepping past Arthur to peer under Merlin's hood. The knight laughed slightly. "So it is."

"An aging spell then?" asked Agravaine. Arthur was reasonably certain Agravaine could see little of Merlin's face, he'd focused on his white beard. "That's powerful magic, Arthur."

The Prince bristled, "And I'll thank you to keep it to yourself, Uncle."

Agravaine held up his hands in surrender. "I'm returning to my room. I swear no one will hear anything from me."

"That would be well, for your continued health, my Lord," rasped Emrys.

"Emrys!" admonished Arthur, "if I want something done about my uncle I'll let you know."

Emrys bowed. "You have only to ask, Sire. I have several ideas which might prove… appropriate chastisements."

Agravaine paled sharply. "By your leave, Sire," he said, also bowing.

Arthur flicked his hand in dismissal and his uncle fled, the two knights chuckling behind him. The Prince started down to the lower level, saying quietly over his shoulder, "I don't think I want to know how those two are going to torture my Uncle with tales of your powers in the next hours."

"I hope they don't give too much away," rasped Emrys. "I'd give a lot to know how he spotted the aging spell."

"The council is convinced you were a teenager and new to your powers when I was born. I haven't tried to dissuade them," responded Arthur, but he motioned for Merlin to stay quiet as they came up to the guards at Vivian's door. The Rheggian knights' eyes passed quickly over the Regent to the old man behind him, equal parts of fear and hope lighting them. One jerked open the door for the two men and closed it reluctantly behind them.

The instant Arthur passed the threshold, Vivian rose as high as she could in her cage, flapping her filthy wings and screeching his name, the garnet necklace still hanging dully at her throat. She attacked the bars with wings and claws trying to get to him. He ignored her and approached King Olaf, who had risen from his seat at the Prince's entrance, but was more than half focused on Merlin, who pulled his hood back to let the King see his face.

"Is this him?" the King demanded anxiously. "Is this the sorcerer?"

"Yes, Olaf," Arthur assured him. "He's come to change Vivian back to human."

Olaf's eyes bounced back and forth between the two men. "I've sent to Morgana already, you know, offering her a king's ransom if she'll undo her spell."

"Morgana could cure her own spell, that's true," rasped Emrys acerbically. "But what will she do to your precious daughter next to keep you under her thumb? What is your Kingship worth if it is Morgana who pulls your strings like a puppet?"

"And what's to make me think you won't do the same?" roared Olaf.

"I work for Arthur," said Emrys with an exaggerated shrug, his beard brushing his shoulder. "Of course, I feel obligated to tell him when he's about to do something foolish, but that doesn't always mean I can stop him."

"Emrys!" admonished Arthur sharply. As the sorcerer fell quiet, the Prince turned to King Olaf and added, "His tongue is sharp but he's shown me uncommon loyalty considering Father would roast him on a pyre in a heartbeat. He's also been able to defeat Morgana while still remaining hidden. To me that suggests he is the stronger. Would you really rather trust a usurper who's betrayed you once already?"

Olaf wilted into his chair. "Let him try."

Emrys went to the fire and hung the kettle. As he prepared his herbs, Arthur sat down before the frantic harpy. "Hush now, Vivian. I'll sing to you if you'll listen quietly."

"Arthur, my love, my love, my love," squawked Vivian, still tearing at the bars. "Bars will not hold me. Nothing can keep me from you. You are mine, mine, mine!"

"I could leave," suggested Arthur turning his head, though he knew he couldn't leave Merlin alone.

"And I would hunt you!" she shrieked, infuriated. "Hunt you to the end of your days because you are mine, mine, mine, mine! No one else will have you!"

"I wasn't suggesting I would go to anyone else," Arthur warily assured the mad harpy. Behind him he heard Olaf rise and open the door for a brief word with the sentries outside. "I only said I'd go if you couldn't be reasonably quiet."

Vivian screeched wordlessly and wildly attacked the bars.

"You can't reason with her, Arthur," said Olaf tiredly, the dark bags under his eyes making the monarch look twice his age. "I've tried. God knows I've tried."

Arthur glanced at Merlin's progress as he rose to comfort the monarch, but the sorcerer was totally engrossed in his brewing, arcane words spilling murkily from his lips. "Just a little longer," he assured Olaf.

Olaf shuddered. "How does he think he's going to get her to drink it?"

Arthur breathed in the aromatic aroma, which smelled floral and spicy at the same time. "He'll have his ways, but at least it smells drinkable."

"It's not for drinking," rasped Emrys from the hearth. He unbent and faced the two royals. "It has to be poured over her. Hot."

"Hot?" thundered Olaf. "It's boiling! You'll scald her."

"Yes," agreed the sorcerer. "It will scald off the feathers and change her back to her human form."

"You'll kill her!" exclaimed Olaf, rushing toward the sorcerer.

Arthur was instantly between them, giving ground to Olaf's charge, but keeping him from his servant. "Olaf! I warned you the cure would probably involve something inadvisable. You want Vivian changed back, this is the way."

Turning maddened eyes on the Prince, King Olaf shouted, "He means to kill her, Arthur! He'll kill my daughter to set war between us. And so help me war there will be!"

Arthur seized Olaf by the shoulders. "She's not going to die, Olaf. I swear it!"

"You don't know that! You don't know anything about sorcerers and what they're capable of!"

"And you know better? Your trust in Morgana led to this mess."

Olaf screamed and threw Arthur to one side. Arthur recovered and tackled the monarch, throwing him to the floor. "Emrys!" he yelled. "Do it!"

Torn between obedience and the need to help his master, Emrys hesitated before pulling the heavy kettle from its hook and struggling with it toward the cage holding the ensorcelled Lady.

"Men of mine, to me!" screamed the Rheggian monarch as he tried vainly to wrestle free of Arthur's hold. Five Rheggian knights crashed through the door, swords drawn, but as many Camelot knights followed hot on their heels and seeing the two rulers tussling madly on the floor proceeded to do all they could to keep the Rheggian knights from interfering.

Olaf had reached his belt knife and Arthur released his hold on Olaf's torso in favor of grabbing his arm to keep the knife from piercing him. Wrapping his legs around Olaf's middle to maintain his hold, he managed to smash Olaf's hand against the stone floor, causing the older man to screech in frustration as he lost his hold on his knife.

Ignoring the tumult, Emrys tipped the kettle over the screeching harpy, wetting her thoroughly with the steaming brew. The screeching became a high pitched shriek as the fowl body morphed and lengthened. Emrys grinned toothily at the change being wrought. The knights stilled and stared. The sorcerer glanced up at the gawking knights and dropped the kettle. Spinning his cloak from his shoulders, he draped it over the cage to preserve the Lady' modesty.

Olaf stopped wrestling with Arthur at the sound of his daughter's distress and instead started slithering toward her, ignoring the Prince clinging to him. Arthur released the King and jumped back. Olaf got to the lock on his knees and scrabbled the key from his belt. He slammed open the door, fumbling the pin from his heavy furred cloak. Reaching into the cage, he dragged Vivian's limp but human form into his lap under the cover of his mantle.

"Arthur, Arthur," whined the Lady piteously as her father searched for burns on her fair skin.

Olaf touched the smooth skin over his daughter's collar bone and froze, staring at the brightened garnet just above. "Arthur, it's glowing! He's here!" Olaf turned to study the knights. "But which one?"

"Knights of Camelot into the corridor, but stay within call," ordered Arthur. "I may need you back."

The knights went with many glances at their recent opponents, reluctantly leaving their Rheggian counterparts behind.

"Still glowing?" asked Arthur when the last had exited.

"Yes," confirmed Olaf, rising to his feet and supporting a boneless Vivian against his chest.

Picking out the two eldest, Arthur ordered, "Ok, you two into the corridor."

The two looked to their King, who nodded confirmation and waved them away, watching the jewel anxiously. "It dimmed," he yelled, once the two knights had disappeared.

"You three out and get those two back," ordered Arthur.

This time the knights didn't wait for confirmation from their King. The knights switched places and Olaf called out, "It relit."

Arthur shook his head in relief. "One out, one in."

Sir Granady spun out the door and instantly the King cried, "Wrong one!"

The remaining knight raced out, calling, "Granady! It's you they want!"

The King stared in confusion as his head knight entered. "But he's no Prince, nor Lord, nor Lord's son. As much as I value Sir Granady as my right hand, he's a knight's son of five generations. There's not a drop of royal in his blood."

Exasperated, Arthur said, "You don't have to marry them, Olaf. She needs a kiss."

Olaf looked down at his daughter scrabbling against his chest as she piteously mewled for Arthur. Faintly, he whispered, "Yes."

"But I'm not worthy," protested Sir Granady.

Exasperated, Arthur took the other knight by the arm to lead him forward, "You're getting exactly one kiss out of this, Granady. I suggest you make it a good one."

Olaf glanced again at the glowing stone. "You're sure?" he asked raising his eyes to the sorcerer.

"Is your daughter human again?" asked Emrys snarkily.

"At least it's someone I can trust," grated Olaf, pulling his cloak more tightly around his daughter's otherwise bare body. He glanced up again to see Granady staring red-faced at the Lady. "Come on then," he said turning her slightly toward his knight, but Vivian caught sight of Arthur and reached for him, calling him her love and letting the furred cloak slip slightly down her shoulders.

Arthur side-stepped behind the tall knight. Vivian practically fell into Sir Granady's chest trying to chase the Prince. He caught her against him, a melancholy wonder suffusing his face. She struggled weakly in his grip. The knight tipped her chin up and leaned down, his lips catching hers gently even as his hand stroked back along her jaw to hold her in place. The Lady' struggles ceased abruptly as she collapsed in the knight's arms.

"Sorcerer!" yelled Olaf.

"Nothing I wouldn't have expected," scoffed Emrys. "With a spell this powerful suddenly broken? Put her to bed, she'll be right enough when she wakes."

Granady swung the Lady into his arms to carry her like a babe against his chest, rocking her gently in his arms and ignoring Olaf's half-hearted attempt to take her from him. The knight carried his Lady to her bed, laying her down gently and covering her carefully to preserve her modesty. Granady briefly looked up at his King with devastated eyes before hurrying away. Arthur laid a hand on Olaf's arm to gain the monarch's attention.

"He is her one true love," said the Prince softly.

Olaf huffed steamily. "All I've ever wanted is her happiness." He stared after the retreating knight, chewing the inside of his mouth. "Granady's a good knight; solid, dependable, my own right hand. If she wants him when she wakes… I make no promises, other than I want her to be happy." He huffed again and slid his eyes to Emrys, but he addressed the Prince. "Arthur, there are things I owe your father. He asked for my help and I am honor bound to do what I can to set his fears to rest. Will you allow me a private word with your sorcerer?"

Arthur caught the slight shake of Merlin's head. He hated to leave his friend in this position, but his father had few true peers. If Olaf would speak to Uther on his behalf, he might just possibly listen. "Very well." Arthur walked away. As he reached for the door, he turned back. "Emrys. You have my permission to defend yourself, if that becomes necessary." At Olaf's snort, Arthur met the King's eyes. "Don't doubt for a moment that he's capable of killing you. You've seen for yourself how powerful his magic is. I value you greatly as Camelot's ally, King Olaf. And yet, Emrys has proven his worth to me such that I value him over even you. I trust that you will act with restraint and discretion." With that Arthur pulled the door closed behind him.

King Olaf turned hard eyes on the sorcerer. "And would you kill a King?"

"To protect my own King? Without hesitation," replied Emrys, fully returning Olaf's stare.

"By that somehow I don't think you mean Uther," huffed Olaf. "At least Arthur doesn't seem to be under your control, though somehow I doubt you're really under his either."

"It's more a matter of respect. I respect Arthur and so I serve him," said Emrys.

"I can't say you seem very respectful either," said Olaf with open suspicion. The King took a step to the side and then another, beginning to circle the sorcerer.

Emrys matched the King's movements, not wanting Olaf behind him. "Respect doesn't have to equal toadying, my Lord."

The King turned and paced back the other way, his gaze appraising. "Uther seems to think you want to use Arthur as your puppet."

Once again Emrys matched him. "I've fought off sorcerers who've tried, and given Uther the same protection for Arthur's sake. Or didn't you hear about Uther's troll wife?"

Olaf let out a sharp bark of laughter. "I've heard at least two ditties on that incident which would undoubtedly get the singer executed if they put so much as a toe inside of Camelot. I didn't hear that you had anything to do with it though?" he asked slyly.

"As it should be," growled Emrys. "Arthur deserves all the credit for breaking that spell. It couldn't have been done without his courage."

"Ah, you simply told him how to do it and he followed your instructions?" asked Olaf cannily.

Emrys tipped his head to one side. "And made sure he didn't die in the attempt. Arthur isn't reckless. He thinks things through. But he doesn't let danger stop him once he's made up his mind either."

"As long as he makes up his mind for himself," said Olaf.

"He does," growled Emrys.

"That still puts you as the advisor to the ruling Regent, hidden in the shadows behind the throne."

"I've had to hide my whole life."

"Really?" asked Olaf looking Emrys up and down. "Then you're a younger man than you seem. Uther only outlawed magic twenty or so years ago."

Emrys' cheeks colored under his beard. He glanced away from the King and back, sharpening his stare. "I am what Arthur needs me to be."

"Humph," said Olaf. "And would you be what I need you to be?"

"I cured your daughter."

"And are you also a seer?" Olaf asked sharply.

"Unfortunately," confirmed Emrys dryly.

Olaf let out another sharp bark of laughter. "Never have heard of a true seer who enjoyed the power." The King's face reddened in determination and anger. He sneered, "Tell me seer; how do I avoid the war that will tear my land apart when I die? Some women could rule, but Vivian wouldn't be one of them even if her claim was legitimate. And now you tell me that her true love, the only man who will make her happy is a common knight. Granady might have some ability to govern but my nobles will never follow him. Besides which, Lot of Ascetir came to see me a few months ago to tell me he'd be willing to take my daughter in marriage if I'd make him my heir. He'd make my realm a vassal state and plunder it thoroughly. I threw him out, but he's right that he has a decent claim."

"If Lot has a claim," said Emrys slowly, "then Arthur's is likely to be nearly as good, possibly better."

"True of half the kings on the isle," growled Olaf. "I've no close cousins, no one with clear right. You could argue genealogical rights through most of the royal families. A throne in contention could plunge the entirety of Albion into war."

A half smile twitched Emrys' lips. "Only one Prince is prophesized to unite the land of Albion. Make Arthur your heir."

"Oh, so you prophesize it, do you?" blustered Olaf.

Emrys shook his head. "Not I. I haven't seen it yet, though I've seen snatches of the future. It is the Druids who've claimed Arthur as the Once and Future King of their legends. And the Perilous Lands that lie between Camelot and Rhegged have been promised to Arthur. Already they begin to heal."

Olaf drew a surprised breath. "That is a very substantial claim."

"But a true one," smiled Emrys.

Olaf pursed his lips in thought. "If the curse of the Perilous lands were to lift there would be a great deal of opportunity for those who would settle them. Deira and Mercia would no doubt attempt a claim and Lot is ambitious enough to try as well, even if his armies have to cross Mercia's soil to get there."

Emrys startled slightly and Olaf could have sworn he saw the future pass briefly across the old man's eyes, but he was surprised by the optimism of the sorcerer's next words. "That could bring about a new treaty between Mercia and Camelot. Rhegged would do well to uphold Arthur's claim."

Olaf leaned closer to the sorcerer. "Are you threatening me, wizard? Or trying to bribe me with newly opened lands?"

Emrys didn't flinch. "Neither! Either course is open to Arthur, but it is his choice, not mine. And I'm quite certain he can think of a few more options."

Olaf straightened up. "You are his man, aren't you?"

"Completely."

Olaf grumbled. "Very well. No one will hear from me of the Perilous Lands imminent opening. However, if Camelot and Rhegged are to become neighbors new treaties will have to be drawn up."

"I expect so," replied Emrys and again Olaf had the fleeting impression of the sorcerer seeing a future unexpected.

Disturbed by the conversation, Olaf strode to the door and yanked it open indicating the sorcerer should go, to find Arthur leaning against the wall, clearly awaiting Emrys' dismissal. Olaf narrowed his eyes at the Prince. "Well, he had me convinced you weren't under his spell a moment ago."

Arthur came off the wall as the sorcerer appeared having gathered his things. "Emrys can't walk around Camelot safely without escort."

Olaf snorted. "I should think not, but you and I have much to discuss."

Arthur called to Lancelot, who had been one of the knights to answer his call in Vivian's chambers. The knight appeared from around the corner almost instantly. "See to it that Emrys gets home safely."

Lancelot showed no surprise, having already guessed who the old man had to be. With a slight smile, he inclined his head respectfully and gestured for the sorcerer to precede him.

Olaf stared after the sorcerer until he disappeared up a staircase.

Arthur nudged his arm. "Shall we find someplace more comfortable?"

"Merlin!" bawled Arthur as he charged through his chamber door, slamming it behind him.

Seated cross-legged on the dining table, dark head bending over Arthur's mending in his lap, Merlin didn't even flinch. "Yes, Sire."

Arthur came up to him and dropped his hands flat to the table, his eyes uncomfortably close to his servant's. "The Perilous Lands?"

Merlin looked up slowly. "They're yours."

"Oh, you're gifting them to me, are you?" asked Arthur sarcastically.

Merlin dropped his hands into his lap. "The Fisher King said that you were to unite Albion. That would include the Perilous Lands. So I'm pretty sure he intended you to be his heir."

"Pretty sure?" demanded Arthur. "What? Did you and the Fisher King have a tea party? Enjoy yourself?"

"No, actually," replied Merlin, ducking his sovereign's gaze. "He asked me for the means to end his life."

Arthur stood up and raised his hands. "Let me get this straight. You had a conversation with a four hundred year old King, gave him the means to die and he made me his heir?"

"Not in so many words," said Merlin, raising the mending from his lap in front of his eyes.

Arthur closed his eyes and massaged his forehead. "Merlin, you just told a foreign King that I was claiming the land on his border."

"Yeah, how did that go?" asked Merlin, finally looking up at the Prince innocently.

Arthur's eyes snapped open, a maniacal smile stretching his lips. "Peachy! He's staying a few days so we can rework all our treaties."

"Oh, good. Then there's no problem, is there?"

"No problem?" demanded Arthur, raising his hands as though he'd strangle his servant. Merlin cowered away slightly. "Merlin, Camelot's forces have been depleted. How am I to secure an entire nother kingdom?"

"You'll think of a way, Arthur," Merlin said brightly.

"I don't even know what resources the Perilous Lands hold, especially military resources."

"Not much considering what the capital looked like."

"And when I do get a garrison posted there have to be either supply lines or local farms to provide for it."

"I think Olaf was interested in some of his people settling there."

"Yes, with his knights protecting them, I'm sure." Arthur ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

Merlin set the mending aside and scooted off the table. "You're the only one who can tame the Perilous Lands, Arthur. I'm sure of it. If Olaf moves his people in there, they won't prosper without your blessing."

"You're sure?"

Merlin tipped his head with a small smile. "Let's say I'm sure that I can make sure of it. And Olaf respects the power of your sorcerer enough that I think he'll be cautious."

Arthur's shoulders sagged in relief. "I'll have to send a scouting party to map the place and too few who've gone there have returned."

"That land is healing, Arthur. A well-provisioned party should be able to manage."

"I don't suppose you can give them anything to keep the wyverns off?"

Merlin bit his lip. "I could look into it."

Arthur dropped into a chair. "How is it you always manage to pile mountains on my shoulders but then lighten them by half the weight of the rocks?"

Merlin thought a moment and then smiled cheekily. "I'm a sorcerer?"

"Oh, is that what that actually means?" Arthur scrubbed at his face with his hands. "Sometimes I think you'll be the death of me, Merlin."

Merlin's smile disappeared and he dropped his eyes.

Arthur noticed. "Please tell me you won't."

A slight laugh escaped Merlin's lips, but he didn't look up. "No, of course not, Arthur. I'm supposed to prevent it."

"Of course you are," said Arthur, rising from his chair and clapping his servant on the shoulder. "But when one's time is up, it's up. A soldier learns to accept that death will come when it will and one needs to be ready to meet it. And I suppose I'd better be ready to meet this destiny that's supposedly mine, though how one man is supposed to unite all of Albion, I do not know."

"Two men," said Merlin ducking his head in a nod. "I'm supposed to help you."

Arthur frowned. "You could start by not proclaiming parts of my supposed destiny to foreign kings before you tell me about them."

"I'm sorry, Arthur," said Merlin, looking up from under his lashes contritely. "It won't happen again."

"Good," said Arthur, his earlier anger having mostly evaporated. "Now help me out of this armor I've been stuck in all day and draw me a bath." He unfastened his belt and handed it to his servant. Lightly he added, "And then you can go explain to Geoffrey why he needs to search the genealogical records for any claim I have on Rhegged's throne."

Merlin froze staring into Arthur's eyes.

"Three kingdoms, Merlin?" asked Arthur shaking his head in amusement. "At least I don't have to marry any of them."

"Olaf thought it a good idea then?" asked Merlin, motioning his Lord to bend so he could draw off the mail.

Arthur straightened as he slid out of his armor. "He's making no promises, but he said he'd consider my claim. Probably for concessions in the Perilous Lands. And that's the other thing. The Fisher King's kingdom must have had another name at some time, find out what it was."

"Geoffrey will be able to find it. Might as well annoy him with every request at once."

"Your requests annoy him. Mine are his duty," said Arthur, stripping off his gambeson.

"I'll remind him of that," said Merlin cheekily. "Should be fun."

Three days later Arthur stood in the courtyard gazing up at his King, who stood on the battlements staring at the scene below with fury in his eyes. The horses fidgeted in their trappings, eager to be off with the Rheggian party. Arthur felt Olaf's massive presence at his elbow.

"I tried to talk to him, Arthur," said the King apologetically, or what would pass for apologetic from a monarch.

"I heard," responded Arthur wryly. "I think the whole castle did. Even Sir Damaris commented on it before he left."

Olaf snorted. "If I thought he was in his right mind, I'd challenge him for his insults."

Arthur looked at Olaf steadily. "How far gone do you think he is? Honestly."

Olaf looked uncomfortable. "He can fake it. I thought he was alright at the banquet. I was surprised your knights backed you so unequivocally. I think I got more honesty out of him last night. He thinks that anyone who opposes him is under a spell, and that Morgana is more likely to be the one who breaks her bonds and rides to Camelot's rescue. He sees you and Morgana as children. He can't see that you've grown up."

"Thank you for that, at least," said Arthur.

"I have some knowledge of magic and its limits, Arthur. My generation was raised with it. Morgana is a powerful sorcerer, and Emrys perhaps even more so. But even together they couldn't subjugate a whole kingdom, or even the whole of the ruling class. Either one could control a single man, though, even a monarch."

"So you think Emrys is controlling me?" asked Arthur looking back toward his Father.

"No," said Olaf stepping up beside the Prince. "It's clear you're your own man. And I've written to Rodor and Godwyn to assure them of that. All I'm saying is that you'll have to be wary."

Arthur gave him a knowing smile. "As wary as you are of your closest advisors?"

Olaf let out a bark of laughter. "Even so. There's always someone else who wants to wear the crown… or wants to control the head that does."

"Emrys doesn't want the crown; that I'm sure of. He's too used to the shadows." Arthur frowned, "and Morgana's already had it on her head."

"There is that," said Olaf.

Vivian exited the great doors and came down the steps into the courtyard arm in arm with two of her ladies. She held herself erect, but Arthur could see what it was costing her. Sir Granady met the ladies at the carriage Arthur had made available and the knight handed Lady Vivian inside.

"Speaking of children," said Arthur, "or grandchildren?"

Olaf fluffed up like a startled porcupine. "Perish the thought!" He flushed but settled himself under Arthur's knowing gaze. "Alright. Perhaps Vivian isn't a child anymore either, but she's been through a yearlong ordeal and she needs time to heal. Besides… she barely notices him. I wouldn't believe Granady could be her true love if it wasn't clear the spell had broken."

Arthur hesitated. "Emrys said to ask. How much does she remember?"

"Thankfully, not much from the last year. I told her that she'd been woefully ill and that we'd finally brought her to Gaius for a cure." Olaf looked down and away a moment, uncomfortable, before giving Arthur an accusing stare as though he thought the Prince would disapprove. "I've given Granady permission to court Vivian on the condition that he not reveal the truth about her illness and that he take things slowly and respectfully with my daughter."

"There's a time to be bold and a time to be patient," said the Prince.

Olaf guffawed and slapped Arthur on the shoulder. "You have some wisdom for your age, but don't think you couldn't use more."

"Couldn't we all?" asked the Prince.

"Indeed," said Olaf motioning for his horse to be brought up. Nodding to the small party of Camelot knights led by Elcwith who prepared to accompany the Rheggians north as far as the boarder to Gwynned before turning north into the Perilous Lands, he said, "I'll be ready to receive your knights at the end of their journey."

"I've seen they're well provisioned, they'll make it," said Arthur with a confidence he didn't feel.

"The coast can't be as bad as the interior, and I'll ship them back if they arrive in poor condition."

"The interior can wait until autumn and cooler weather. I was thinking that if I sent that party by ship to Rhegged this summer they'd at least be heading for home on their journey, if you wouldn't mind seeing to their provisioning."

"I'm willing." Olaf grunted. "What's the seer say?"

Arthur snorted. "He says he's no good at seeing the future and when he does he makes terrible things happen. But he insists Elmet is healing."

Mounting his horse, Olaf said, "Not calling them the Perilous Lands won't make them less perilous."

Arthur looked up at Olaf with a hint of a smile and a glint of challenge in his eye. "No, but settling them will. Patiently."

Olaf barked another laugh and called his train into motion.

Merlin came up to stand behind Arthur's shoulder as he watched the Rheggians leave. Arthur ignored him and instead looked up at his Father glowering like a gargoyle from the battlements.

Softly, Merlin reassured him, "You will reach him one day, Arthur."

The Prince snorted. "Apparently you didn't hear him telling me that I would leave Camelot a withering husk as he threw me out of his chambers when I offered to show him the new treaty with Rhegged before I signed it."

"I think even old Lord Dungual heard that and he's so deaf every time the warning bell rings he thinks a mouse has gotten into his chambers."

Arthur snorted out a laugh. "Merlin, you're fired."

Merlin screwed up his face in befuddlement. "You're sacking me. Seriously?"

"Seriously," said Arthur, though laughter still glinted in his eyes.

"You know I'll just turn up again, don't you?" asked Merlin.

"Maybe I need you to turn up again."

"Oh. Well in that case, thanks for the day off," said Merlin as he walked away, still looking back over his shoulder.

Arthur called to him, "Merlin, I want strawberries for desert."

"Make sure you tell your servant," Merlin called over his shoulder, but he chuckled knowing he'd turn up with the desired strawberries… not too long after the dinner hour.