The wind was sour. Fear was leaking like a blistered wound from the pores of the men standing on the crest of the battle field, but they were too proud to let it show. Gripping their swords like children gripping onto their mother's skirts they looked upon their adversaries. Three scores of men deep and lining the mountain's long cresting craigs they were stomping their feet to a unheard battle chant. A flag with a raven flapped in the wind looking down at the proud yellow lion. The hunter haf thus become the prey.

A stallion cut through the ranks and the men parted. Prancing with the scent of war in its nostrils. The black eyes rolling into white abyss. The man pulled the reins to the right hard making the horse bank and turn in a tight circle. He stopped in from of his men and walked up and down the line meting eye to eye. He was not above him men. They were the dependent keeping his nation, his kingdom alive. Each men loyalty was not to be question. His honor pure and heart was brave as the lion on the flag which they flew.

The minds of the men, Arthur Pendragon, King of the British Isle, son of the eagle, once and future king, knew was as much of a battle field then what they were about to charge on. As with war they knew there was always a fair chance the cruel mistress that was fate would take them in her arms and bid them a long dark slumber. Their minds flashed with one last mental goodbye to love ones and friends. They found they could not look at each other as they were too afraid their emotions would run ramped. Breathing in as one, they turned their ear to their king.

"Last night I prayed to God. I asked of him: O merciful God, I have such need of Your mercy now. Not for myself, but for my knights, for this is truly their hour of need. Deliver them from their trials ahead and I will pay You a thousand fold with any sacrifice You ask of me. And if in Your wisdom, You should determine that sacrifice must be my life for theirs; so that they can once again taste the freedom that is so long been denied to them, I will gladly make that covenant. My death will have a purpose. I ask no more than that."

We go today to fight not just an enemy but an enemy with the kingdom's blood running through her veins, My blood. My father's blood. My grandfather's blood. She, my sister did not only betray me, she betrayed all my brothers and theirs and that I cannot forgive. We may be up against a weapon we do not know how to fight against but these men," Arthur swept his arm behind him taking in the men who were now silently quite, "they are flesh and blood as we are. They die as we die. I only ask you stand and fight until you can stand and fight no more. The highest honor will be bestowed upon you. My power will be yours to share. Now, we FIGHT!"

As if both fronts heard a silent bellow from a horn, they rode to meet each other.

Swords clang against swords. Bows rained down arrows from the heaves. Magic hummed and sang, ensnarling and captivating. Men fell and killed. Brother watched brother die. They were like tiny ants trying to walk all over each other but knocking each other off the line. Arthur was goaded into the crowed his eyes seeking. In the back of his mind he screamed at the terror around him, his heart ache not only for his men but those of Morgana's as well. All the while his thought focused on one thing. It was not the battle. It was not how he would have to kill his own blood if the fates so happen to align. It was, where was Merlin?

He had not seen Merlin since the morning before. The tall and lanky servant had come into the tent by Arthur's bid. Arthur had given him the dragon pendent. Arthur had won a battle that morning. A personal battle. He had decided to take a fool's chance and come clean. He manned up and he told Merlin how he felt. It was with great joy when Merlin took the Pendragon family crest to wear. The king had searched out his servant but to no prevail. He had ridden off without so much as an ado. Now, Arthur hoped, he would be there to tell him hello.

Arthur heard a crow's cry and looked up. He had somehow become separated from the battle. Oh, he was very much still surrounded by clashing of swords and the ripe smell of blood, but it was as if he was in his own little pocket of life. The air was calm and cool. The land was calm and not shaking from thousands of foot falls. It was peaceful to say the least.

"Well met little brother of mine," a silky and sultry voice stepped out from behind the tree to Arthur left.

Morgana was very much changed. Where once was beauty was now ragged and haggard looking. She had changed from a lushes, thin, healthy women to no more than a sickly child. Her body hunched over itself and her hair was thin and straw-like. Her dress was in tatters as if ripped by wrath like claws. Mud splashed on her face. Her eyes were fevered.

"Morgana, "Arthur choked out, "call off your men. We do not have to do this."

"Oh but we do, we do.

Arthur put his hand on his sword. He did not want to use it. It was clear he was tormented by the very thought. Around him Arthur could see and hear men dying, bleeding, yelling, and fighting. He saw more of Morgana's men coming down the west hill. Her army doubling. His men were outnumbered. It was an ambush. Fear stabbed him in the gut. It twisted and pulled his insides. It left him feeling hot and cold at once. It was as if time itself was moving fast but agonizing slow.

Arthur's mind was blanking and filled with bleary broken thoughts. He would have to do something. No- he knew what needed to be done. It was in his eyes, his stance. He would have to end it all here. Right now.

"Why?" was all he asked.

"Because this, all you have, is mine by right. You took it from me. You and Uther." Morgana spat. "You betrayed me."

"I never wanted to. I had no choice. I thought if father knew about your magic-"

"I am going to defeat your men today, Arthur Pendragon. I am going to kill you and take what is rightfully mine. But first, I want you to feel the same pain I did, the same heart break and despair I felt when Father came into my chambers and hauled me off to the dungeon for being no more then who I am."

Arthur went to move, but Morgan thrusted out her hands and Arthur remained frozen. In fact every one of Arthur's men froze. All eyes turned to Morgana. "Mordred come."

Morgana smiled at Arthur. It was not a nice smile but one full of malice. "Do you know how we were able to take you by surprise? Do you know how I and my men were able to get the upper hand?"

Mordred came with another. Their hands clasped behind them. Their head bowed. Mordred knocked them on their knees. Morgana flicked her hand and Mordred took a step back. The person looked up at Arthur and Arthur felt his heart leap.

"What did you do?" he shouted and tried to struggle against the magic. He tried to reach Merlin who was looking anywhere but him.

"I did not do nothing. Merlin came on his own free will. He is not my prisoner."

"NO. Merlin- no"

Merlin looked up. He paused. He swallowed. He spoke. "It is true. I came to Morgana on my own. I knew of your plans and told her them."

"Why," Arthur creaked out, "why?"

Merlin only looked at him. Arthur saw something flash in his eyes. Something he could not discern. The raven haired man did not say anything but, "I had too."

It was then that everything happened at once. An arrow hit Morgana in the shoulder. A shout came from the north. A banner of a deer on a white field crested the horizon. Queen Anne's forces had arrived. All Arthur could do was stare, numb as he was.

In the end, Arthur and Anne's men had won. Morgana and her men had lost.

The battlefield lay quiet, for it was now a graveyard of the unburied. From both sides corpses lay among the rugged earth. The sun still shone and the wind still blew, but somewhere mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters waited in vain. These men that were once boys who played in the yard with sticks and laughed at each other's silly tales were now meat for the birds. Their eyes were as immobile as their limbs. Their souls had long departed to the celestial planes to walk with the ancestors. The battle was over, the heroes had won.

Arthur had come to his sense and ordered his men to take Morgana and Mordred captive and lead them to war camp. He listed to Morgana's insane laughter long after she was carried away.

"Sire," Leon said coming up behind Arthur. His voice was hoarse and unsure, but then again how would it be, "What of…Merlin."

Arthur looked back at Merlin. Took in his busted lip he had finally kissed the night before, his high checks, his blue eyes. He walked over to him and stood before him.

"Do you deny what Morgana said, Merlin."

Merlin finally spoke, "No, sire. I did help her."

The Knights of the Round Table shouted and clambered. Calling Merlin a liar. That Morgan bewitched him.

"She did not. I am of my own free will."

Arthur then unleashed his sword. "You betrayed your king and your kingdom. You helped the enemy why should I not run you through where you stand."

There was no talk of how could you. No cries of heartbreak. It was as it was.

Merlin looked up at Arthur's face, "I did not want to. I came willing. I cannot explain my self-right now or my actions, but know this. I did not want to betray you, my king."

"You were my friend! Now you're nothing more than a mere slither of worthlessness. You say you did not mean to betray me? That you cannot tell me? I trusted you! I cared for you! I prayed to the gods that you remained healthy, happy, and strong. And this is how you repay me!" Arthur shouted. He took a breath and calmed. "Death would be too just of a punishment for your crimes. From this day forward you shall be made to live a living death. You will see firsthand the seed of your betrayal. You shall hear the voices of the ones you betrayed. We may have won today, but you have destroyed all this kingdom is and for that there is a cost. You will not be my servant or friend from now until the end of your time. My men will not be your friends. You shall be alone."

Merlin felt tears in his eyes, "One day I will explain. One day you should know why I did what I did. All of you will, but until then I accept your will and word. Please, Arthur only know I do care. For you and this kingdom. I love you, "there were a muttered gasp and yells, "

Arthur turned and walked away.

Merlin awoke. It was the dream again. No. Not just a dream but a memory. Knees to his chest and breath caught in his throat, he squinted at the sunlight that was pouring into the window. It was becoming a new day. He would be collected from his cell soon. He had begun to think of it as his own tiny house. Of course, it was not has homey as the room he had once called his own. But then again nothing was once how it was.

After he would be collected he would be taken to serve in the hall. There he would hear and see the knights- his old friends. They would ignore him, but some, the lesser known ones would taunt and sometimes make Merlin trip. It was the ignorance that caused Merlin's heart to break. He then would be taken to Guais and from there, well, it really was up in the air. Nothing had really changed much. He was still a servant. He was just a betrayer and forced to live every day in remembrance of that. He wonderd if he would see Arthur. Of course he's seen him in the year he had been placed under kingdom bond but then it was never really seeing. He wanted to look him in the eyes. Hear his voice directed at Merlin. But Arthur didn't want to see him no more then he wanted to see his sister who was imprisoned in the cells below Merlin.

Merlin felt a tear drop from his nose. Rolling up his tunic he looked at his forearm. No one, save Guias and Gwen had seen the mark. It was as if the veins under his skin and broken free. They were black and blue and purple. Imbedded in the center was a stone. The reason he was more or less in this mess. Why he had helped Morgana. But he wasn't ready to tell. He couldn't tell. Not yet.

Merlin looked up at the window and waited for the day to begin.

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