A/N: I don't own either of these franchises. If you're not familiar with Merlin (BBC) then all you really need to know is that in its version of Camelot, magic is highly illegal.


If there had been any way of getting out of the coronation, he wouldn't have come. Unfortunately, Lord Fitzwilliam of Darcy could hardly be absent. His lands sharing a border with Lot's kingdom was usually excuse enough to get out of court events since defending the border took priority, but King Arthur's coronation was a different matter. He had to be there.

Poor sickly Georgiana, he told all at court who asked, could not risk the trip.

"What a shame," Lady Caroline said. "She'll miss the coronation ball. Still, with your connections, I'm sure you can arrange something even if she never comes to court."

Darcy had no intention of arranging any suitors for Georgiana. It was fart too risky. Far better to simply support her at home.

But he could hardly say so, so he smiled politely and turned away.

As he did, his eye was caught by a laughing young woman talking to one of the men of Darcy's own party.

Lady Caroline sniffed. "Don't tell me Lady Elizabeth's caught your eye."

"Lady Elizabeth?" he said numbly.

"Second daughter of Sir William of Bennet," she said, curling her lip. "Sadly, Sir William was never blessed with sons, and of course the daughters can hardly inherit, so they're desperate to get them married off. With five daughters, though, I can't imagine their dowries are very tempting."

Darcy barely heard her. Lady Elizabeth was hardly his concern. He was far more worried about her conversation partner.

"I don't suppose you could introduce me?" he asked abruptly.

A private conversation with a knight's daughter wasn't a likely way for Wickham to break his silence, but with the mocking glint in his eyes, Darcy didn't dare to take the risk.


The de Bourgh line had been notable for many things.

Lady Catherine, for instance, had been quite formidable with fire.

Her daughter had been too young to be notable for anything, but Lady Catherine's dying curse had spurred a blaze that didn't discriminate between knight and child.

Lady Anne died in childbirth before the Purge had reached those of her rank.

Healing spells did, after all, work poorly on one's self.

Georgiana was born small and frail and sickly.

Or so the now late Lord Darcy had said.

Georgiana was born into a world of fear, and fear is not conducive to control.

It was a careful house of cards, and it would only take a careless breath to blow it all apart.


Darcy was being forced to stay far longer than he would normally have liked by a string of invitations to royal councils that he could hardly refuse.

In hindsight, he should have simply remained quiet at the first one. Instead, he had spoken and been pegged as useful, a title that at the moment he would happily forgo.

The only bright spot was Lady Elizabeth. He had originally pursued the acquaintance so he could insert himself between her and Wickham's insinuations, but her sharp wit and bright eyes had made her intriguing company in her own right. He could only rarely sit with her to eat, but he sought her out whenever the dancing started.

"That shall teach me to listen to rumors," she said with a laugh after one set. "They said you detested dancing, yet I do believe you have asked me every night this week."

Darcy inclined his head and took his leave, taking the implied rebuke to heart. When combined with his previous standoffish ways, his preference for Lady Elizabeth was too noticeable. It would raise expectations.

Expectations, he reminded himself grimly as Wickham pressed a note into his hand, that he could not risk acting to fulfill.


Wickham's father had been a good and capable steward. Wickham himself was a wastrel, and Darcy was fully prepared to turn him out.

Until Wickham, carelessly lounging in his chair even as Darcy told him so, had said, "I suppose I shall have to seek work in the capital then."

"I wish you luck with it," Darcy had said coolly, but Wickham -

Wickham had smiled. "Oh, I am sure our good king will reward me for news of your sister."

Wickham knew.

After that, Darcy had not dared.


The note asked him to meet Wickham on the wall at the half hour mark. Darcy did not appreciate being summoned, but he liked the thought of what Wickham might do if defied even less.

It could not go on like this, but all paths that led out loomed equally dark.

Darcy made his way out to the spot Wickham had indicated. Curfew had not yet been struck. Even if the guards saw them, there would be no trouble. Not unless they were overheard.

Wickham was waiting for him, leaning against the battlement with an easy smile. "Hello, my lord."

"Wickham."

If his curt tone bothered Wickham, he didn't show it. "I've been thinking. We can't go on like this forever. You need some guarantee I'll keep my silence, and I need something to compensate me for my trouble. Surely an accord can be reached."

"How much?" Darcy asked flatly.

Wickham shook his head. "Money? What good is money? Here and then spent, and your guarantee is gone."

Darcy's jaw clenched. "What, then?"

"Let me marry Georgiana."

Darcy's hand fell automatically to his sword. "Never."

WIckham's hand moved defensively to his own, but he kept his voice friendly. "Why not? You can hardly marry her off to anyone else, and it would guarantee my silence. To denounce her then would be to sink my own prospects."

"No," Darcy snarled.

Wickham's eyes hardened. "Then I shall go denounce her to the court."

Without quite planning it, Darcy drew his sword.

Wickham's was out in another instant. "A duel, Darcy? Is that your plan? Even if you could emerge the victor, you don't have time. The witness I arranged for is nearly here, and I don't think you will duel her."

He thought he heard footsteps on the stair. It was hard to tell over the roaring in his ears.

No time. No way out. No way to save Georgiana.

None save -

He shoved out a hand and spat, "Astrice."

Wickham went flying off the wall. Far below, there was a thud.

A sharp gasp came from behind him. He turned to see Lady Elizabeth watching with wide eyes.

"Lydia?" she asked in a voice that was surprisingly strong.

"She was never here," Darcy told her. The reality of what he had done was slowly sinking in. Wickham was hardly the first man he had killed, but this was no battle in defense of Camelot. This was murder. "Whatever you were told, Wickham just wanted a witness to this."

"A witness to what, exactly?" Her eyes were wary.

Darcy sheathed his sword. He wasn't sure how much she had overheard or been told, so to protect Georgiana, he mixed a small lie in with the truth. "He had witnessed magic on my lands and thought to blackmail me by accusing my sister. Unfortunately for him, he guessed the wrong sibling." He looked at her wearily. "If you wish to report it, go. I will not stop you."

"I doubt you could," she said sharply. "I also doubt that your sister completely lacks your talent." A small golden flame licked up her fingers and reflected against her suddenly golden eyes. "In my family's experience, power is usually shared."