A/N Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin!

CHAPTER ONE

Magic. It's performed by reaching into Gaia (the heart of this world), pulling out her spirit energy (which resides in all living things), and using said spirit energy to do wonders.

xXx

I am Guinevere, servant in the royal household of Camelot. I am the personal servant of Prince Arthur (who might I add is mighty arrogant, "Once and Future King" or not). No one would suspect that I were to ever practice magic. After all, magic is forbidden in Camelot, on penalty of death, and I am in the heart of Camelot: the most dangerous place in the world for a sorceress like me. Why would I even think of practicing magic in a place like this? One might find the answer to that if they were to ask the humanoid dragon who led me here.

Said dragon's name is Lancelot. He's the one who convinced me that I have a great destiny where I help create a peaceful Albion - an Albion where those with magic and those without magic can live together in harmony. According to this prophecy, I'm going to fulfil my destiny by protecting The Once and Future King by any means possible, even if those means are using magic. This leads me to my current dilemma: The Once and Future King is Arthur Pendragon, Prince of Camelot.

I remember the first time I saw Prince Arthur like it was yesterday, when in reality it would have been yesterday a week and two days ago. Not that that matters. The point is, as soon as I realized it was him, I wished it wasn't.

I was wandering on the castle grounds, hoping to get an idea of what The Once and Future King was like. He would be wearing the royal crest, first off. He would have well groomed, straight, golden hair with bangs long enough to cover his entire forehead, stopping at his eyebrows. On formal occasions, his bangs were slicked back and the rest of his hair tucked behind his ears. His face is said to be very attractive to the majority of females, with a complexion that's somehow strong and stern but all the while soft and elegant. His eyes are said to be a striking blue, like the ocean on a sunny day.

Needless to say, when Lancelot described this to me, I had to ask him, though I doubted it, if he was falling for the prince. To my relief, he said he only had eyes for a certain, special female that was already in his life. Eyes for the Dragon Lord who inspired him to take humanoid form and come out of his dark, remote cave. Eyes for she with dark curls, tanned skin, and warm brown eyes. Eyes for me. I smile everytime I even think of him saying things like that. He makes me feel more loved than anyone else ever could, even if he did send me to fulfil an impossible destiny.

Wow, I have a terrible habit of getting off subject. Where was I? Oh. Right… (I heave a sigh.)

The first things that caught my eye to think it was Arthur was the royal crest and the golden hair. Not that well groomed of hair, in my opinion, but then again he was in the middle of a heated battle, him against three knights at a time. I was surprised he could be winning such a battle (even if I knew I could), but then I considered that, if he was indeed Arthur, then he was trained from birth to be a knight. So, this really must have been Arthur.

Just one thing: wasn't Arthur supposed to be, I don't know, kind? Or was that my misconception? (Yes, unfortunately, a terrible misconception. I should have seen it coming - he was raised by Uther.)

This man was yelling at his knights, screaming that a kid with a twig could do more harm to his enemies. That they had the footwork of an injured, dancing monkey. Lastly: "I thought that my father gave me men, not a bunch of girls!"

I seethed at the last part. 'So you're implying that girl's are incapable of fighting?' I challenged mentally.

Looking at the knights, they had probably been vigorously training for at least a couple of hours. They were sweating so hard it leaked out of their armour. Most of them looked like they were about to pass out. There was no doubt that continuing the training would do them more harm than good. They needed rest.

This ill-behaved prince needed to be taught a lesson.

Without thinking, I barged into action, interrupting whatever else the prince had to say. "So you think that a woman can't handle a sword?" I yelled across the small field of grass.

The prince paused, before turning to look at me. I swallowed. 'Well, now that I've started, there's no turning back.' I started my way towards him.

"Who are you?" Prince Arthur exclaimed, running his fingers up through his long bangs and pushing them up out of his face until they stuck to the rest of his sweaty hair. I cursed mentally that such a rude man shouldn't have been so attractive, especially one who was doused in sweat. Maybe it was my weakness for long hair, or the fact that his face wasn't beat red like his knights'. But, nevertheless, I knew that what he looked like didn't really matter - I don't judge books by their covers.

"I am Guinevere of Ealdor, and I have been trained in swordplay by the very best. I'm positive that I could defeat you, one-on-one."

He scoffed and laughed arrogantly, flipping his sword in a circular motion in his hand. "Well, Guinevere of Ealdor, I am Arthur - Prince of Camelot. Unlucky for you, I never back down from a challenge. Someone hand her a sword."

A knight walks over to me, holding out his sword appropriately. I take it with my right hand and, with it, I do the same thing Arthur did with his sword. "If I win, you give your knights a break for the rest of the day," I declared.

Arthur raised his eyebrows and chuckled, doing more fancy work with his sword. "And if I win?"

I copied him, adding in some moves of my own to show off. "If you win, I will do anything you wish." I threw the sword up in the air and caught it with my right hand. "But, you're not going to." I stretched the sword out in front of me, close enough for his sword to touch the end of mine. This is how formal sword fights begin.

Arthur mirrored my sword toss, and his sword ended up in his left hand.

I smirked. Taking me lightly is a big mistake.

"I'll give you one chance to surrender, before this begins," Arthur told me, smirk on his face. "Do you take it?"

"Ha!" I laughed mockingly. "Not a chance."

Arthur shrugged. "Just don't blame me for not treating you like a lady if you're not going to act like one."

I narrowed my eyes and looked straight into his. I didn't look to hard though, because for a minute I thought I saw a soul, and I didn't want to deceive myself into thinking he had one.

Arthur's sword touched mine, and my reflex was instantaneous. I swooped down to the side and dashed towards him with my sword pointing at him only to be blocked. I jumped back and tried from a different angle. I was blocked again.

'He didn't seem to be this well coordinated when he was fighting against his knights!' I thought. 'Wait a second, could it be that he's left-handed?'

I decided to take a different approach: defend and look for openings. So, I went on the defense. We circled each other, neither of us finding an opening. That's when he lunged forward to attack. I easily blocked, but then another attack came. I managed to block one attack after another, each attack getting quicker, but there was no time to do anything but block. Eventually, the unthinkable happened - I was disarmed.

I instantly cursed at myself for losing grip. This wasn't like me - what on earth had me so rusty?

Prince Arthur shoved me onto the ground with his shoulder and, looming over me, pointed his sword right at my neck. I shuddered, not having experienced such an embarrassing defeat since before I could remember.

The prince laughed triumphantly. "Now, about that wager. You will pledge your loyalty to me, and obey my every command, lest ye be banished from Camelot. Which do you choose, Miss Guinevere?"

With a bitter tone, I pushed out a, "I will obey your every command, Your Highness."

"Very well. You shall be my personal servant from now on. Consider it an honor."

Moment's later, Arthur shouted once again at his knights, "Knights! Time for a break!"

I blinked in confusion, before deciding that Arthur was worn out from our battle. I chuckled smugly under my breath.

xXx

I moved into the servant's quarter's of the castle, a hallway away from the royal quarters, that very day. From then on, I had next to no free time, constantly tending to the spoiled prince's needs. I endured many insults about my inefficiency as a servant, and how I should have been honored to serve him. I did complain the whole time, but that was beside the point. I did all but dress and bathe him, as, taking into account his and mine own gender, that would be inappropriate. It's times like this when I thank Gaia that I'm a woman.

In the midst of a dreamless sleep, I was awakened last night by some brief, but repeating powerful surges of spirit energy nearby. I sensed that they were in the castle, and at every peak another soul left its vessel and returned to Gaia as spirit energy.

One thing was for sure: I had to do something. It was my destiny, whether I wanted it to be or not, to protect Prince Arthur. Of course, there was no guarantee this magical being would harm him, but as he was the leader of the knights, and the guards were dropping like flies, it was likely.

But how could I protect him? I'd have to use magic, which should only be last resort for obvious reasons. Physical weapons would do nothing against this being, unless they were enchanted. And even then, it would be taking a great risk to use a magical item, because there is no unenchanting it, and enchanted items are forbidden in Camelot.

'Wait a second, I can't get into trouble if no one knows that I'm the one casting magic. I can disguise myself with a transformation spell, and no one would see me transform because I would do it in the privacy of my bedroom. Then, I'll get rid of this magic caster and, if anyone tries to arrest me, I'll use magic to teleport back into my room and transform back into my original form.'

With that solved, I reached into Gaia, chanting 'Transmutare in alio' in my head as I imagined myself as an elderly man. I felt spirit energy running through my veins, and I knew the spell had worked.

Knowing it unwise to be seen leaving my room, I closed my eyes, mentally chanted 'Ianuae Magicae,' and focused on the tainted spirit energy that I could sense in the castle. When I opened my eyes, I saw before me a plump, middle-aged woman, standing in a corridor with two dead guards behind her. She had greying brunette hair and eyes so dark of brown they were almost black.

I sensed a presence in a hallway to my left and thanked Gaia that I was in a form in which nobody would recognize me, and that this person I sensed decided to stay still.

When the witch saw me, her eyes narrowed, and her hand stretched forward. Right as I chanted 'tueri' in my head, she intoned "Interficere!" Her usually fatal attack dissolved in an invisible wall in front of me.

The witch's dark eyes became wide. She repeated her spell once again, this time in a yell, but it had no affect.

Whoever was hiding in the hallway before was now running away from the two of us magic casters.

"Who are you?" the witch asked me, her voice nearly trembling. "And what do you want?"

I smirked. Perhaps she wasn't so powerful after all. She was likely intimidated that I could block a spell that she screamed without even parting my lips. Maybe she assumed that I didn't cast a spell at all. "I could ask you the same thing. What business do you have here?"

"I seek revenge against King Uther. He murdered my only son for practicing magic. All he did was practice some harmless spells, ones that helped the crops grow, but when Uther found out he took my son away from me. Now, I'll do the same thing to him. That demon of a king must suffer as I have suf-!"

"Sorry, but I can't let you do that," I interrupted her. I mentally screamed 'tueri' to add an extra layer to my barrier because I knew she wouldn't appreciate what I was telling her. "Actually, I'm not sorry, because - come on - doing to Uther what he did to you makes you just like him. Is that what your son would want? The answer is no, you buffoon."

Enraged, the witch screamed "Interficere!" so loud her voice was strained.

Her attack was useless against my freshly strengthened barrier. I stepped forward and my invisible shield moved with me.

The castle warning bell rung loudly. Ah, that explains where the "spy" ran off to.

The witch tried to run, but I cast 'rigescunt indutae.' It only slowed her down until I repeated it aloud, which was when she became completely still. My magic was weakening from overuse. Once I reached her, I placed my hand on her chest, in which was a soul connected to Gaia. I needed to sever that connection. "Ego denudabunt te magicae!" I yelled.

The witch let out an agonized scream, followed by a, "What have you done?!" She could no longer use magic.

I could sense many non-magical presences charging toward us, and one was getting very close. Well, at least the closest one is by himself, I reassured myself mentally.

I could have fled right then, but a tiny voice in my head held me back. It was the conscience Lancelot taught me to have. You just stripped a witch of magic, and if she stays here she will surely be executed. Sure, she was trying do something that would get in the way of your destiny, but really she's just a grieving mother. A mother should never have to bury her child.

Hand still on the witch's chest, I chanted "Ianuae Magicae" aloud and pictured the witch in a safe, small village far away from Camelot. And there she went.

I heaved a sigh, just moments before I felt a sword touching my back.

"Now, now, there is no honor in killing an unarmed man, especially from the back."

"There will be no need to kill you yet. If you do as I say, you'll get a fair trial." With his first word, I instantly recognised his voice.

"Arthur Pendragon," I spoke. It felt so nice to call him something other than 'Your Highness' and 'Sire'. "Is that any way to thank me for saving your life?"

"Excuse me?"

"May I turn around?" I inquired, very conscious of the sword pointing at my back.

The sword no longer touched me. "Try anything funny and I'll kill you before you can touch me."

I chuckled under my breath and turned around to face him. The way he held his sword told me he was prepared for me to attack.

"That witch meant to kill you, but I stopped her. She won't be here again anytime soon. Magic can be used for good, you know."

Arthur narrowed his eyes, but still in them shone something unreadable. It couldn't be hope…

"Why should I trust you?" he asked me.

"Well, you're not dead yet, that's a good sign," I muttered, raising an eyebrow.

He raised both of his glared at me, but then he raised his eyebrows in hesitation, looking into my eyes. "Do I know you?"

My heart jumped. 'Did he recognise me through my disguise? He can't have… It must be my personality. Or maybe my eyes - I should have changed my eye colour.

'Never mind that, I need to act confident,' I told myself. "Not yet," I told him. "But our destinies are tied. You are, like me, destined to bring peace to Albion."

"Is there not already peace between Albion's kingdoms?"

My expression turned serious and confident. "There will be no peace until the people are able to practice magic freely, without living in fear of their king."

Arthur shook his head, narrowing his eyes again. "My father is a great king. Magic corrupts the minds of men. He knows that, and that is why he has forbidden it."

I half-sighed, half-growled. "Albion is doomed," I murmured.

Behind me, a large group of guards entered the corridor.

Arthur pointed his sword at my chest. "Now you have nowhere to run."

I seethed, closing my eyes and picturing my room. "Ianuae Magicae," I chanted loudly.

When I was successfully teleported, I sent the spirit energy in my bloodstream back into Gaia and became my physical self again. Then, all the exhaustion from using so powerful of magic at once caught up with me. The transformation spell and the stripping of that witch's magic were especially draining. I had to constantly force all that spirit energy into the world through my soul for at least half of an hour. If that isn't exhausting, I don't know what is.

I stumbled onto my bed of straw covered in a sheet and a blanket and fell back into the lovely chambers of sleep.

xXx

I somehow woke up the next morning with time to spare, and that leads me to this very moment, in which I'm reflecting on all that has happened since I came to Camelot. And, of course, what brought me to Camelot.

"Lancelot," I mumble aloud, subconsciously. Then I cover my mouth, realizing that I just summoned the one I've been avoiding since I met Arthur.

And my beloved materializes before me. His tan skin glows in the morning sun pouring into the room from my window. His curly black hair reaches his shoulders, and his green eyes are like emeralds. Oh, how I've missed him.

I fling my arms around him, and he returns my embrace. When he loosens his grip around my waist, I do the same, and we look into each other's eyes each with a small smile on our lips. I lean forward and we kiss briefly yet sweetly, before Lancelot pulls his face away from my own, and we're looking each other in the eye once more. This time, his smile fades.

Lancelot chants, very quietly, "Nemo audiet me sed Guinevere. Nemo audiet Guinevere sed me." It's a spell that makes it so only I can hear him and only he can hear me.

"Why did you not summon me sooner?" he inquires. "I've been worried."

I bite my lip, avoiding his gaze. "I was worried, too…"

Lancelot's hand caresses my cheek, and his thumb tilts up my face. "Gwen?"

Our eyes meet, and I can't bare the sweet, worried look in his eyes. I heave a sigh, and step out of his touch.

I start pacing away from Lancelot. "You told me that Arthur was going to create a peaceful Albion," I remind him, before swiveling on my feet to face him with a frown. "I don't see that happening."

My beloved walks toward me with a reassuring smile. "You need not doubt your destiny. You must remember that not everything is as it seems."

I shake my head in exasperation "Arthur is… ugh! He's so disrespectful! It's like his life goal is to insult me!"

Lancelot nods. "I've had visions about this. So is it true that you're his new personal servant?"

I throw my head back in exasperation and nod.

"This is good," he encourages.

I bite my lip and look at him with furrowed eyebrows.

Lancelot grasps my hands. "I'm sorry that you have to deal with a spoiled prince, but the fact that he trusts you enough to offer you a position as his own personal servant means that Gaia has blessed you and your destiny. All I know is that you won't regret protecting him once he creates a peaceful Albion. One where we don't have to hide anymore. It's been prophesized ever since the day that Uther overthrew Camelot and passed that dreaded law, that Uther's only son would end Camelot's hunting of magical beings. And that you, The Last Dragon Lord, would protect him every step of the way. And my destiny, as the last living dragon I know of, is to help you help Arthur fulfil his destiny."

I take a deep breath. "You're right… But, the thing is, Arthur doesn't believe that magic should be allowed. Am I supposed to change his mind?"

"Maybe. Or maybe you need to get to know him better. I know you have a lot of weight on your shoulders right now, but if you think about it, so does Arthur. You two have a lot more in common than you think."

I want to rebut; but, when I think about it, I'm not so sure if Arthur's insults are random, or if I have been provoking them. After all, this isn't the first time I've had that constant bickering relationship with someone. I have a similar kind of relationship with my brother, Elyan - and I love him to death. The difference is the familiarity.

I pout. 'Gah, why do I have to have revelations I really don't want to have?'

Lancelot offers me a warm smile. Sometimes I feel like I'm an open book to him without me saying a word.

I can't help but chortle and return the smile. "Okay, I'm going to tolerate Arthur. For the sake of Albion."