So I decided to rewrite this since I didn't like the way I wrote this before and also coz I wrote myself into a dead end. Please enjoy and review :)

Disclaimer: Not mine, unfortunately.

Deep inside a long forgotten cave ancient crystals spring to life. The glow is subtle but grows stronger by the second, gaining power until they once again have acquired the brilliance the once had. They begin to hum in something like joy and each surface of every crystal lights up gold. The gold begins to flicker rapidly with other colours until they run into one another. When the colours once again become bright white, the crystals slowly settle as the glow simmers down. They flicker dimly as they wait - time has been rewound and the whole world stills as the wheels of destiny begin to turn anew…

Birth of the Heir

"Sire, the queen has gone into labour!"

The midwife burst into the council chamber unannounced. An older council member shot her a look full of hostility at the interruption but the young king stood up at once.

"The meeting in postponed." he hastily announced before following the midwife to the birthing chamber. There his beautiful wife lay in a wide bed with a small smile on her lips. He returned it and rushed to her side to clasp her hand in worry when her face twisted into a grimace.

"I'm so glad…you're here." she gasped in pain when a contraction ran through her petite body and the king let her grip his hand to the point of pain. He knew it was nothing compared to hers.

"You're doing well, Your Majesty! Just one more push!" the midwife told her and the queen could only give a stiff nod as she strained to do as she was asked. The king's eyes never left her brilliant ice blue ones and he winced in sympathy when she whimpered in pain. A high-pitched scream pierced the air and both parents looked at the bloody bundle the midwife was holding.

"It's a healthy baby girl." she told them with a broad smile, placing his daughter into the king's arms. He grinned like a fool, unable to contain his bliss although a small nagging thought in the back of his mind bothered him. He needed an heir, a son - but, no. He shook his head. Not only did he have a beautiful wife but his first child was born alive and healthy. It was anything anyone could wish for. Everything was perfect.

That was when it all went downhill.

He turned to face his wife with a wide grin but it dropped off instantly at the sight of her. The king hastily shoved the baby at a by standing servant girl.

"Ygraine!" he called desperately. His wife's eyes had rolled back in her head and she was deathly pale. She was unnaturally still and only her shallow breathing provided proof that she was alive. The king glanced at the midwife sharply.

"Do something!" he bellowed and the poor woman shrank back at his wrath.

"I'm sorry, sire. There's nothing more I can do for her." she stammered pointing at the blood pooling between his wife's legs. "She won't stop bleeding."

He stared at the growing puddle in horror but snapped his gaze back to Ygraine when he felt a faint pressure squeezing his hand.

"Please, Uther. Take care of…our daughter…Take care of…Artura…" she rasped weakly, her eyes amazingly clear in the face of death. Uther bent down to her face and shook his head in defiance.

"No. I won't let you die. Nimueh!" he shouted sideways. The called for sorceress appeared suddenly, her head inclined. As her crystalline eyes caught sight of the dying queen they filled with tears. Uther didn't let go of his wife's hand and looked up at her pleadingly. "Please save her. Use your magic."

Nimueh looked down at the man she knew would soon be broken and shook her head.

"You know I cannot."

Uther had no time respond because at that precise moment his wife's grip on his hand slackened.

"Ygraine!" he cried out, tears spilling over as he took his wife's blank face in between his hands. He sobbed over her still form as he tried to kiss her back to life. "No, you can't leave me. I need you!"

A sound life soft footsteps coming toward the bed made him look up in despair. It was the servant girl from before who was now holding out his daughter to him tentatively.

"The princess, Your Majesty." the young girl stuttered but stepped back at his murderous expression.

"Take it away, I don't want to see it! It killed my wife!"

"Uther, she's the only piece you have left of her. Don't deny Ygraine her last request." Nimueh said quietly from behind him, laying a soothing hand on his shoulder. The king shook it off angrily and then strode over to the baby. He stared down on it in a mixture of disgust and fury until it opened its eyes.

They were the same brilliant ice blue as Ygraine's, Uther's beloved wife.

He felt his anger slip away at the sight of that colour but then something else simmered up inside him. The king rounded on Nimueh who looked shocked and backed away until she hit a wall.

"Guards." he called quietly, watching with cold eyes as they followed his gestures to arrest her. She could only give him a shocked stare. "Put her in the dungeons."

"Uther!" she protested but one icy glare silenced her.

Nimueh felt her insides freeze at his glare and found herself unable to move when the guards dragged her away.

"You did this. You killed her." Uther said dangerously low. The dungeon's torch flames flickered as if they could feel Nimueh's fear when he slid his sword out of its sheath.

"No, her death was out of my hands. I told you before - a life for a life, that is the price to be paid." she told him with a trembling undertone. Her explanation fell on deaf ears and Uther's green eyes grew cold.

"So you deny your obvious crime? I let you into my household. I trusted you. And this is how you repay me? By murdering the one I love the most?"

Now the sword was right at Nimueh's throat and she swallowed as she looked up.

"Magic is evil." Uther hissed into her face. Her crystalline eyes grew as hard and cold as ice at his words. She knew him to be stubborn and there was nothing that could change his mind now.

"No, Uther Pendragon. Magic isn't evil but you have the capacity to be." she told him in a mixture of disappointment, fury and sadness. Uther shouted in rage at her claim and moved to stab her to death right on the spot but her eyes flared a bright gold and she was suddenly behind him. "From this day onward, I will be the your enemy. Mark my words Uther Pendragon - Camelot will fall under your tyranny!"

!YY!

She stared at the shiny surface of her cup. Her reflection simply returned her blank stare. It was a sight she had seen all her life - her closely cropped, light golden brown hair and creamy peach skin, the classically beautiful features that defined the royal family...

They were visible despite the yellow hue brass added to it all, such as her straight nose and full lips. Her icy blue eyes slid from her breakfast tray to the clothes which had been laid out for her.

How she hated them.

The corset, specifically made just for her, hurt. The pain never went away but it always intensified when she wore it.

Her gaze caught on a polished decorating shield mounted on the wall as she passed it. A painful jab added to the corset's discomfort. Her eyes flickered and she looked away. The brilliant blue of the sky outside her window drew her attention. It reminded her of yesterday's spectacle and left a sour taste in her mouth. She hated executions.

She nodded at the guards stationed outside her room before making her way to the training field. On her way there she encountered a new knight-to-be, judging by his clothes, arguing with a servant. As she drew closer she recognised him as her personal servant and wasn't surprised to hear him use a rather arrogant tone. He grinned when he saw her.

"Ah, your highness." he greeted her mockingly. The knight whirled around and gave a hasty bow which was more than the servant did. A glare was exchanged between the two of them and she cleared her throat.

"What seems to be the problem?"

The knight opened his mouth to explain when her servant interrupted him with a smug smile.

"This so called noble tried to give me orders. Don't you know I've got more than enough chores to do? I'm very busy." She raised an eyebrow at this statement as the servant's hands were empty and he didn't look otherwise occupied at all. He continued oblivious to this with his glee filled gaze on the red-faced knight. "I'm not your servant nor is it one of my duties to do anything for you. Only my master may give me orders."

He laughed when the young knight's mouth opened and closed comically. The servant then glanced at her with a wide grin.

"Don't you agree that punishment is in order?"

The poor young knight paled when she threw him a fleeting glance and she directed her icy gaze back to her servant. No matter how long he had been in her services, she still despised his self-important attitude.

"What would you suggest?" she asked pleasantly and he shrugged.

"You could use him as target practice. Knights only need to learn how to run away, don't they?"

The knight gaped in anger while she forced herself to keep smiling.

"Very well. Then fetch me the target and knives needed." she commanded, sending the frightened knight a reassuring smile.

"But they're so heavy!" the servant protested. She glared at him frostily and he stilled.

"Now."

He ran without another word and when he came back the knight was shaking. She would have to teach him that showing his emotions freely like that could kill him in battle, she mused.

Her servant, however, looked very smug and gleeful when he gave her several knives before placing the target without much care. She looked it over before turning to him.

"Move it." she told him and he gave her an irritated look.

"What for? I'm not the one being punished." he spat and she narrowed her eyes to slits.

"Just because you are my servant does not give you the right to be disrespectful to others. So he won't be the one receiving punishment."

When he still looked clueless as to what to do at her gesturing at the target she sighed.

"Where's the target?" she asked in a too bright voice in an attempt to sound patient, confusing him even more. Looking thoroughly like he had lost any sense of what she was saying, her annoyance grew.

The following few minutes she nearly forgot about the sense of wrongness that had been bothering her since yesterday. But then she was reminded of something else, something that was always present no matter how much she wished it wasn't.

"Who do you think you are - the king!" the younger boy exclaimed. She had been more intrigued than irritated by this 'Merlin's antics which may have been due to his strange colouring - skin the palest white, raven black hair and eyes of a startling midnight blue - or the fact that he didn't seem to know who she was. But now his comment forced her to say it.

"No. I'm his son." The bitter edge on the last word was lost to the boy as his shock was lost to her. She continued with barely concealed fury and hate in her voice. "Arthur."

Ara woke with a gasp and drew in a shuddering breath to calm her hammering heart. Sitting up she held a hand to her chest, the cool skin feeling clammy beneath her touch. Her other hand went up to the red stone hung on a leather string around her neck and she sighed in relief as she relaxed. It felt soothingly warm; it made her feel safe. Letting herself sink back into the hard mattress that was her bed Ara cast her thoughts back to the dream she had just had. It wasn't the first time she had woken from it like it was a nightmare with the feeling of viewing something real. A memory.

Her appearance always differed from her actual looks; she couldn't remember ever her hair being any shorter than the waist length it had nor wearing a corset that uncomfortable and restricting. She twirled a golden brown curl around a long, graceful finger absentmindedly as she stared at the ceiling, her dream once again playing in front of her inner eye. It stopped when she remembered that first good look she always dreaded and anticipated into the boy's eyes. A clear midnight blue which may not have had a peaceful night's stars but that sparkle instead, full of life and mischief. A terrible longing filled her and nearly made her cry out with loss.

I miss him, Ara thought desperately, I miss them.

Shooting upwards into a seated position, she shook her head resolutely so that her head full of golden brown curls bounced across her back. She had no business missing a figment of her imagination. She swung her legs out of bed so her feet met the cold stone floor and took a deep breath before crossing the room to get ready for her day.

It was only later when Ara recalled that feeling she had had and wondered.

Them?

Yes, I will be continuing with this since I've found which direction I want to go now. I won't promise a long story becuase I seem to be better at oneshots so bear with me please if updates become irregular :)