Prologue

Morgana knocked at the physician's chamber door and entered without waiting for an answer. The name "Gaius" was on the tip of her tongue when Gaius himself beat her to it.

"Morgana." The old healer smiled and inclined his head, standing next to his work table, herbs in hand.

Morgana smiled back, noticing that they were not alone, that Merlin sat at the smaller table. She smiled at him too.

"I've had some troubled nights."

Gaius' smile slid out of view and he turned back to his work. "I've prepared another draught for you. Have the dreams stoppped?" He asked.

Merlin was rubbing the back of his head. And Morgana saw little seeds and marrow still hanging and drying in his hair. She turned her eyes back to Gaius and shook her head. "Arthur told me what actually happened." Merlin looked up at her, eyes wide. They were blue. "You must have hit him round the head really hard." She pulled a smirk at Merlin.

"Yeah." The boy answered. "I feel really bad about that."

Ha! Morgana doubted he did. If it had been her, she would have relished the opportunity to humble the great Arthur. But Gaius was pushing a small bottle into her hand now.

"Here you are." He patted her shoulder. "Remember, every night just before you go to sleep."

She forced a smile and thanked him and left the small, dim room.

As Morgana walked across the courtyard, the bottle seemed to burn into her hand. Sleep was something allowed to all beings great and small. It was something so ubiquitous. And yet it was denied to her. And when she did finally succumb to exhaustion, when she actually got some rest, horrible things showed themselves to her. Night after night.

Someone was calling her name. She craned her neck back, looking into the crowd.

"Lady Morgana!"

She spotted him, Merlin, running after her.

Morgana could not remember, had she set something down and left it in Gaius' chambers?

Merlin finally stumbled within speaking distance of her. By the gods, he was always tripping over something. It seemed to be his default manner of locomotion. He was panting and clutching the back of his head. Strange. Morgana finally found her words.

"Did I forget something, Merlin?" She watched his eyes, which were flitting everywhere, until they finally met hers. Strange.

Merlin shook his head and predictably winced. "I just wanted…" He began, seeming to search for words too.

They had been staring at each other awkwardly for a half a minute or so now. Well, Morgana felt that it had become awkward. But as Merlin was looking at her he suddenly became very pale. So much so that Morgana was worried the boy was about to be ill, or fall over, or something awful.

"I just wanted…" Merlin repeated.

And now Merlin was staring at a spot behind her. Morgana took a quick look around. Nothing. She sighed. She opened her mouth to apologize and politely excuse herself.

"Just wanted…t-to say that I hope that the draught works for you, for the nightmares I mean!" He stuttered the slurred the whole thing out, staring daggers at the ground beneath their feet.

Morgana smiled. By the gods, all this way, all this effort, just to tell her that? But it was nice. Besides, he cared enough to run all this way.

"Oh." She drew on her manners. "Well, thank you. I hope so too." She began to pull away, hoping to end this little encounter soon. "I must go…" She began.

"Yes, sorry!" Merlin stuttered out. "Me too." And he was off like a shot. Back to Gaius' chambers, she suspected.

Morgana entered the castle. The day felt a little less dim now.

Morgana stepped outside and the door thumped closed behind her.

Merlin picked a seed of some unfortunate marrow from his hair and flicked it after her, imagining that the door flew open and that Morgana flew back inside. It would be so easy… He could just bring her back and spout off the words that had been hammering against his clenched teeth earlier. Arthur almost died. Sophia was a Sidhe. I have magic. There. Done.

"She must never find out the truth." Gaius' voice broke through Merlin's thoughts.

He turned to the old man. "Why not?" Merlin pulled himself to his feet, any movement rattled his sore head a little, but he was getting used to the throb. "She had a premonition that helped save Arthur's life." If anything, it would be best to tell her, so she would understand what was happening.

A few more worry lines appeared on Gaius' forehead. "And it could have cost her her own. If Uther ever found out, things would never be the same again. It must remain a secret."

Too many secrets. "Is she like me?"

He could just blast the door apart. He could. "Can she use magic?"

"No one's like you, Merlin."

He looked back at Gaius and knew the old man didn't mean it like it felt to Merlin.

Merlin swallowed back that small pain. "But she has the gift?"

Gaius sat down at the small table, having eyes only for the herbs and potions there. "For her sake, I hope not." And that was that.

But Merlin didn't feel the same. Another person, like him. Someone else just as confused and scared and lost. Whatever kinship he had first felt with Morgana, it was growing unchecked. Usually he was good at tamping that down. It wasn't safe to want that kind of connection. Nothing was safe for him. But she would understand that. She would understand.

He heard himself mumble something about an errand or two and slipped outside. He broke into jog, looking about the courtyard. He spotted Morgana slipping deeper into the castle.

Merlin sped up.

"Morgana!" He called. "Um, Lady Morgana!" He corrected himself when heads turned.

And she turned around too. Saw it was him. And there was a smile. Just for him.

Merlin skittered to a halt before her, head throbbing.

"Did I forget something, Merlin?" Eyes searching out his.

Is she like me?

Merlin shook his head. "I just wanted…"

Too many secrets.

He could tell her right now. And it would be out. It would be done with.

I have magic.

"I just wanted…" Merlin repeated.

No one's like you, Merlin.

And unbidden, before his eyes, floated the face of his mother, terrified of her son. Terrified and afraid of what he was, of what his future would be, of whether he was a monster. And all of Gaius' worries and warnings and stories of those led to the stake or the chopping block. What was he? And suddenly he was staring into Lady Morgana's green eyes and the last thing he wanted was for them to look anything like the eyes of his mother or Gaius. The people who knew. The people before whom he was laid so bare.

"Just wanted…t-to say that I hope that the draught works for you, for the nightmares I mean." He felt shame push his head down and nail his eyes to the cobblestones that paved the ground.

No one's a coward like you, Merlin.

"Oh." She smiled again. "Well, thank you. I hope so too." Lady Morgana started to turn, the dark circles under her eyes made clear. "I must go…"

No one's a liar like you, Merlin.

"Yes, sorry!" Merlin stuttered out. "Me too."

No one's a monster like you, Merlin.

And he dashed away. Back to the physician's chambers. Back to the darkness.

Morgana sat up, drawing a deep breath and coughing, almost gagging. The room was dark. She was in bed. Yes, good. She was in her chambers. She was safe. Morgana waited until her breathing slowed down a little and laid back onto her pillows. The blankets were damp with her sweat, uncomfortably so. She kicked them off.

Had she taken the draught? She could not remember.

The embers of the long dead fire did not do much to illuminate the room. She reached out blindly to the table beside her bed. There. Her fingers closed around the small bottle. It was empty.

That didn't explain the nightmare. The draught was supposed to keep the terrors away.

The dream had started off as vividly as most. The faces of those she knew were painfully clear, like she could have reached out and touched them herself. But she could never do so, and it was not for lack of trying. In these dreams, she was locked into place, restrained. Like she was tied down and forced to watch.

The nightmare had been about Merlin. Which made sense, she had spoken to his recently, so he was fresh in her mind.

In the dream, she could see him sitting on the floor of what must be his small room in Gaius' chambers. His knees were drawn to his chest and his head was down. All she could see what that mop of mess, black hair. And the noise! It had started small. A whisper. A single word. But slowly, repeating, it had grown louder and louder and louder.

A single word.

"Emrys."

Merlin seemed to twitch.

Morgana had been so close she could have reached out and touched his shoulder. And she would have. She could feel something from him. Something was wrong. He seemed wrong.

"Emrys." A high-pitched voice, stressing the syllables, afraid. Someone was afraid.

The boy sitting there twitched again, body quivering. Was he crying?

"Emrys!"

It was becoming unbearable.

"Emrys!"

Morgana desperately wanted to clap her hands over her ears. But she could not. She could only listen.

"EMRYS!" The screech. The wailing. A rushing of wind.

Merlin's head snapped up.

Morgana felt a jolt. And her heart skipped.

His eyes blazed with gold, tears shining in the light. He showed his teeth, clenched and snarling.

It was there that she had been thrown into consciousness. Morgana shook her head slowly, yet the images still remained. She could not be rid of them. It had been so frightening. And so real.

Perhaps… Perhaps she could tell Gaius of this dream. Or Merlin. Having someone to confide in would be nice. She smiled and closed her eyes.

Chapter 1: Master and Apprentice

They had tarried too long in this city. In the pit of his stomach, Cerdan could feel something was wrong. The echoes of it had been following them since they first arrived in Camelot a few hours ago and grew stronger as time passed. The sooner they left the city, the better. Cerdan looked down at the young boy, whose hand was clasped in his, and tried to smile when Mordred beamed up at him.

"Do we have to leave?" The boy, swung their hands back and forth as the two Druids slithered through the crowds of the Lower City. "Everything…everything is pretty here."

The boy didn't know how wrong he was.

The child continued. "Look, Cerdan, a- Uh, sorry. Master Cerdan, there's a juggler and tumblers."

"I see them." Cerdan stared across the market stalls, looking for the merchant he had spoken with some weeks earlier.

"I'm sorry."

Cerdan felt the boy's small hand leave his. He turned around, heart racing. The child's large, blue doleful eyes stared up at him.

"I keep forgetting." The boy hung his head.

"What?" Cerdan reached down and took the boy's hand again before having another look into the crowd that surrounded them.

"About…that…I forget-"

Cerdan sighed. He was still unclear on what it meant to be someone's master. He knew what it was to be an apprentice. But this? Cerdan kneeled down. He laid his hands on the child's shoulders. "Mordred, it's new to me too." He gave his apprentice a smile. He tried to remember how his own master had treated him.

Mordred smiled back, eyes shining. The boy was on the brink of tears.

Cerdan nodded. "But I am not your owner, I am your teacher. You are here to learn from me, understand?"

Mordred nodded too.

Cerdan reached out and wiped the boy's face with his sleeve. "Now, we are going to get our supplies and leave as soon as we can. Are you ready?"

"Yes."

Cerdan stood up and took his apprentice's hand again. "Now, where is that- ah!" He spotted the merchant. "Come on." And he pulled Mordred through the crowd to the merchant's stall. They finally drew close enough. "Do you have my supplies ready? We must leave the city without delay." The waves of wrongness were breaking over Cerdan's head and his heart made vibrations through his whole body. He felt Mordred stiffen beside him, as he understood that his master was uneasy. All Cerdan wanted to do was grab their things and run. Just to leave this cursed place.

The merchant nodded. "Everything you asked for, it's all here." He held out the small pouch.

The merchant was staring down at his stall table as he spoke, but lifted his eyes to Cerdan's on his final words. The world tilted sharply.

"I'm sorry." The merchant whispered.

Cerdan felt the guards before he saw them. The heavy armor hitting the stones with each stop, the clank of weapons hanging at their sides, it was a cacophony, even in the busy marketplace. They were approaching from the right and the left. Cerdan pushed Mordred down and pulled the apprentice along as he crawled under the merchant's table and out the other side. Gripping Mordred's hand, Cerdan ran as fast as he could with the small boy stumbling behind him.

It was no use. The guards were so close behind.

Why had he ignored the wrongness? Cerdan's own master had told him that feeding the feelings he had, the anxiety and the gloom, would only make them come true even more. As best as he could, Cerdan would always try to ignore the dread. And now… He should have listened to it. But they needed the supplies. And he had Mordred to think of. How could he have known?

Cerdan stopped to pull a bunch of baskets and other refuse across the market path, to block the guards. It slowed them a little. Cerdan ducked down a few more side streets, Mordred clinging to his hand for dear life. Guards blocked their path again. Cerdan dashed towards the castle grounds. There had to be another way out. There had-

A soldier leapt at them, sword flashing. Mordred screamed.

Cerdan could feel it vibrate through his whole body. It felt like a lightning strike. And Mordred was falling.

No, no no! He picked up his young apprentice and threw his hand out towards the soldier. The armored man flew back and hit the stone wall behind. How dare he. How dare he strike a child!

Jaw clenched, Cerdan turned away from the guard, though every fiber in his being was asking him to kill the man, take him apart piece by piece. He took Mordred's hand again and tried to make for the gate to the inner castle. Cerdan stumbled. He looked back. Mordred was half-fainting, sinking to the ground. No! The thunder of more guards, their feet hitting the stones, coming closer and closer. No way out.

Cerdan reached to the heavy gate, gripping it as tight as he could with his will. It began to close, slowly.

Mordred.

The master fell to his knees and held the child upright.

My apprentice.

"Run."

The boy wouldn't budge. He just stared down at his master. Cerdan could feel the pain radiating off him. And the fear.

"Run!"

It's new to me too.

The guards were coming.

I am your teacher.

Cerdan pushed Mordred towards the closing gate. "Run!"

And the master watched his apprentice disappear behind the doors.

It struck Merlin like a jarring, wrenching, bolt of lightning, feeding deep into the fiber of his being and gripping tight.

A scream.

He turned around, heart racing like he'd just sprinted around the castle several times. Nothing. Nothing was there. Hand shaking, he ran his fingers through his hair. Where had it come from? And who would scream like that? Merlin felt the color draining from his face, his lips tingling. The noise must have really startled him. He had jumped, certainly, but he didn't usually feel like he was about keel over and die whenever he was surprised by something. Hell, half his life had been surprises. Now would be a bad time to start jumping at shadows and loud noises and falling down in a dead faint. He wouldn't last a week here in Camelot with that kind of constitution.

Merlin drew in a breath and rubbed his chest. Gaius was expecting him soon. He started walking again.

It was well into spring and he was due to help Gaius gather herbs from the meadows and forest nearby, just outside the city. He turned down another hall and up some more stairs. Who had screamed? It had been so close, as though someone had shrieked right into Merlin's ear.

To be fair though, Merlin, nothing that happens to you is entirely normal. It's not like something like this is terribly abnormal.

He frowned and nodded at his own comment.

Besides, you talk to yourself all the time. Maybe you screamed at yourself? Idiot. I bet you did.

Merlin wouldn't put it past himself to accidentally do that somehow.

He finally entered the main corridor.

"Help!"

Welp, that definitely wasn't him.

Merlin stopped and peered around the corridor. No one. Again, no one was nearby. And yet, it sounded as though someone were speaking right next to him, right into his ear. Again! Maybe he was going insane. Merlin strode outside and out into the courtyard. Where was that voice coming from? He wandered down the stone stairs.

"Help me."

Merlin faltered. There it was again. He searched the people passing.

"PLEASE"

Merlin winced. His head felt like it was vibrating with that one word. He looked around wildly. Left, right, it didn't look like anyone was calling for help here. They were all going about their business, as usual, like they couldn't hear the-

Merlin's gaze was pulled to a small figure, collapsed beside a stone ledge and swathed in a green, hooded cloak, all the way across the courtyard. But… But Merlin just knew the person was staring hard at him. He stared back.

"Please. You have to help me."

Yes. Yes, this was where the voice was coming from, that little boy sitting there, looking very much like a crumpled leaf in his large cloak. But how? How could he hear these words and no one else? Perhaps…

And when it occurred to Merlin, the idea almost felt physical and he almost staggered back. Only he could hear the boy. Because the boy wasn't calling to anyone for help. He was calling to Merlin for help…somehow. He's calling to my ears only, or my thoughts, Merlin reasoned. One mind, to another. Strange…

"Help me."

Merlin was locked onto the boy's eyes. And time stood still, if only for a moment. Because Merlin soon noticed the several guards and soldiers that were fanning out over the courtyard, helms gleaming. They were searching. They were looking for a boy.

"They're searching for me."

Merlin felt his eyes being dragged back to the boy in the green cloak. So he tried something. He sent the words out into the ether instead of opening his mouth and voicing them. It felt like he was speaking underwater. And he pushed the words towards the young boy.

"Why are they after you?" Merlin took a step forward.

"They're going to kill me."

The soldiers were leaving the courtyard now, looking somewhere else. They were distracted. Merlin watched them, each was turning away now, and each looking the other way. Where could the boy hide? Merlin scanned the courtyard, heart beginning to pound just thinking about what he was going to do. The stupid thing that he was definitely going to do, because how could he not? There! A small doorway! Merlin headed to it. Just wedged between the stairs he was on and the wall of the castle. He could take the boy in there, hide him, then… then what? He didn't know.

This really wasn't the time for knowing, honestly.

Merlin ducked into the doorway that led to into the castle, watching the guard giving the orders. The man was still scanning the courtyard. Merlin bit his lip. He looked to the boy. The boy was still there, hiding behind the ledge. Finally, the guard turned away. Finally!

Merlin beckoned to the boy. "This way." He sent the message out.

The boy didn't move.

The guard's back was still turned, but for how long? Merlin felt sweat beginning to prickle on his forehead. He waited. The boy didn't move.

"Run." Merlin called out. He had almost opened his mouth and shouted it, but caught himself in time.

Hesitation. He saw it.

"Run!" He shoved the words out.

And the boy shakily got to his feet and began to run, clutching his arm. The cloak flowed out behind him. And the head guard turned around. Merlin's heart rang like a gong through his chest. The guard shouted, calling to his men. Run, Merlin willed the boy, run!

"There he is!" Shouts rang out over the courtyard.

Merlin slid back into the doorway little, trying to hide from sight. No one could see him doing this. If they did, well… He wasn't sure what would happen, but it probably wasn't good. Probably some time in the stocks, or worse, depending on what crime the boy had committed. The boy was closer now. So close. Almost close enough.

Feet pounded, the guards were centering in on the stumbling, small boy.

And then there he was before Merlin, panting, pale, and terrified. Merlin took his hand. Small, in his own hand. And Merlin ran.

They tore up the Griffin Stairway and into the main hall. Merlin peered around. Guards's voices came from in front of them. Calls of "Quick!" and "Down there!"

Trapped! Trapped and no where to go. Merlin wasn't sure what he had expected, but he should have expected this. And now he may have made things worse. He didn't know what-

There! The curved staircase. He yanked the boy up the stairs and picked the first door he saw. Opened it. Pulled the boy in. And slammed it closed again, holding the boy close to his chest. He was quivering like a small bird. Merlin turned around.

"Have you forgotten how to knock, Merlin!?"

Damn.