This story takes place when Morgause is still Morgana's mentor. Lancelot does not exist.

Beside a tranquil lake, which rippled softly in the warm Summer breeze, two people lay on a soft blanket and gazed at the listless clouds, and at the willow branches swishing back and forth above them. Both of the man's arms were folded behind his head, and his side pressed against that of the woman, who had her head cushioned on one arm while the other folded over her abdomen.

Smiling, the man watched as small leaves and bits of pollen floated about in the sunlight, and mused that their color looked very like burnished brass, or a sorcerer's eyes. He frowned slightly, displeased at the direction his thoughts were taking, and switched to looking at the clouds. One cloud looked like a book, and another like a stag's head. Thoughts of past hunts and proudly-eaten spoils filled his mind as he watched the cloud, but gradually what were once antlers morphed into a pointed hat, and what was once a snout morphed into a nose and chin. Sorcerer, he thought again, and sighed unhappily. As if to support his errant thought, two leaves flashed golden simultaneously in what would have been the cloud's eye-holes.

The man turned his head toward his companion, who had likewise abandoned her activity and was idly swirling her fingers on his chest.

"Guinevere," he said softly. "Are you happy?"

Gwen paused her fingers and looked up at him with surprise. "Of course I'm happy, Arthur. Why would I not be?"

Arthur turned his head back toward the traitorous clouds and sighed again. "Are you ever… tired? Tired of hiding what we are to each other, tired of having to act the part of a lowly maid, tired of living in constant fear of discovery and punishment? Do you ever think about where we are going with this?"

He looked at her stricken face. "I love you, so much, Guinevere. But I wonder sometimes. Would you be happier in a peasant's cottage or a cold, dark castle? With a half-dozen barefoot children running about, or a neverending stream of noble prats all bidding for your attention?"

A cloud floated in front of the sun and cast Gwen's face into shadow. She drew herself away from Arthur and propped herself up on an elbow.

Eyes narrowed, she said "I believe you underestimate my feelings for you, Arthur. This love is not a passing thing, and wherever you are is where I want to spend the rest of my life." Her face softened and she brushed a hand across his chin. "Whether you are a noble prince or the lowliest shepherd."

Arthur smiled, caught Gwen's hand in his, and twisted so that he mirrored her propped-up position. Together they leaned forward until their lips touched in a sweet kiss.

The sun withdrew from behind its obscuring cloud as the two lovers separated and returned to their idle gazing, both wearing contented smiles.

Arthur's smile dropped a bit as he again saw the floating bits of summer refuse, glowing golden in the sunlight. Closing his eyes, he considered how to phrase his next question to Guinevere. He decided that the direct approach would be the best, and blurted, "Do you think my father is wrong?"

Gwen looked over at him and raised an eyebrow. "Wrong about what?"

Arthur furrowed his brow and gestured a hand over the whole valley. "Wrong about, you know, magic. He says it's evil, but I see it everywhere. In the forest, in the lake, in the beasts. Since nature never contains evil, how can magic be present in it unless Magic is not as evil as my father would have us believe?"

"I think," she said carefully, "that a lot of good things can have magic, but you have seen what it can do to even the kindest hearts if they use it too much. Think of Morgana, or all the other sorcerers that have tried to kill you over the years. Magic is dangerous."

"Dangerous, yes, but is it inherently evil? Think of Gaius. He used magic before the Purge, and he is one of the kindest souls I know. Could it be that magic is just like any weapon, and is only as evil as the one who wields it?"

Gwen sighed. "Arthur, why are you asking this? I truly do not know what I think of magic. Morgana was my friend, and she betrayed us. Whether it was magic or power that corrupted her I cannot say. Magic has only brought fear and pain to me and my family, so I don't know whether it is evil or not. That is for each person to decide for themselves, I think."

Arthur took a deep breath and whispered his greatest fears. "What if my father was wrong, and all my life I have been leading innocent people to the pyre? Now that I am in charge of the kingdom, people will expect me to uphold the magic laws, and I can't do that knowing that every sentence might lead to an innocent being murdered. If this makes me a poor king, I am sorry, Guinevere. But a poor king I shall be. Will you still stand by me? I will think no worse of you if you choose not to."

Gwen smiled. "Of course I will stand with you, Arthur. I think you will be a great king, not only because of your strength but also because you are kind and gentle, even to your enemies. I have faith that you will make the right decision in regards to magic, but until then we can learn together."

Suddenly, Gwen's face blurred out and was replaced by an image of grey flagstones. Arthur looked down and discovered that he was wearing his most regal clothes, and was standing on the courtyard balcony. In the courtyard stood the largest pyre that Arthur had ever seen, and tied to a pole in the middle were Gwen, Gaius, Merlin, the knights, maids, manservants, stable boys, and villagers of all ages.

Unable to control his actions, Arthur heard himself call out, "You have been found guilty of practicing sorcery, the greatest form of evil. To cleanse your corruption from the earth, as King of Camelot I sentence you all to death by burning."

Arthur watched in growing horror as his hand came down in an arc, signaling for the pyre to be lit.

Screams rent the air as flames caught on the dry tinder, and before the smoke grew too dense to see through Arthur saw every pair of eyes looking at him accusingly, on every face that was twisted in agony.

The pyre's flames were so great that the stables caught fire, and after that the lower town. Finally the castle succumbed, and as Arthur turned to run he caught a glimpse of his reflection in a polished suit of armor.

He was Uther.