Title: Stoned
Rating: T - This one's pretty dark: character deaths, blood, angst, reveal, various character!whump. It has all of the same warnings that OSKaS had
Timeframe/Info About This Fic: Takes place between Season 3 and 4; directly after the events in OSKaS;I HIGHLY SUGGEST YOU READ "ON STONE KNIVES AND SILENCE" BEFORE READING THIS- but it isn't required that you do. It'll just basically explain everything. So, no big deal.
Disclaimer: If I owned Merlin... But I don't. You're welcome.
Authors Note: Thanks to everyone who read, alerted, and favorited this! :D Special thanks for DarthZ and brinaynay for leaving wonderful reviews!
(If you didn't read OSKaS, here's a brief recap. Merlin was sacrificed by Morgana, Morgause, and Mordred. Since they killed him, they have an infinite supply of awesome magic. Arthur and his band of knights have to save Camelot. Oh, and Merlin's dead. Just to let you know xD)

Arthur's sleep was fitful that night. Continuous nightmares racked his brain with horrible images. He tossed and turned, but could not find the relief of a deep sleep. He almost pitied Morgana and her similar plague of bad dreams. It was enough to drive someone insane. The worst thing about the nightmares was that they seemed to be retelling the story of Merlin's slaughter, but in more detail. Although the things that appeared new for the first time were seemingly unimportant, it still caused Arthur pain to watch the bigger picture. He was unable to focus on the details—even though deep in his heart, he knew they had to have some importance somewhere.

A youthful scream. A useless sword. Plunged, so deep in his gut. Brown leaves in the springtime. Merlin's expression. Excruciating pain. Brown leaves. Anger. So much anger.

The thoughts were in bits and scraps, roaming blindly through Arthur's sleep deprived mind at teasing speeds—slow enough to cause pain, but too fast to truly understand.

Where is he taking Merlin? I have to. Follow him. Can't stop. Is Merlin alive? Can't stop. Silver butterfly. It follows me. Follow him. Can't stop. Morgana. Tired. Can't stop.

Arthur twisted and turned in the raggedy blanket they had wrapped him up in. It certainly wasn't the best, but at the moment, it was the only thing fit for a future king of Camelot. Arthur gasped as the heat from the blanket became almost unbearable. It was so hot that he wanted to rip the smothering sheet off, but he couldn't break free from it.

Stone table. Merlin's alive. Merlin's a sorcerer. Powerful sorcerer. Morgana wants his blood. The stone knife. Shiny stone knife. Two rubies, one sapphire, and one emerald. One stone he had never seen before. Stings. Crimson drops on his arm.

In his nighttime fit, Arthur somehow managed to struggle out of the suffocating covering. The icy air hit him like a knife, instantly chilling the beads of sweat that dotted his shivering body. This nearly brought him out of his half sleep, but he was so consumed by the nightmare that he could not escape until he saw the end.

Stone knife. The mysterious stone. Rubies look like blood. So much blood. Where's Merlin's scarf? So much blood. So much anger. Merlin, dying. The mysterious stone. Too much blood.

Arthur whimpered slightly in his sleep, but no one came to comfort him. They knew that it was best for the prince to face these demons alone. They also knew that they too would be having the same night terrors if they heard when he had to say. They would never be able to get those images out of their heads either.

So much blood. Merlin isn't moving. The mysterious stone. Stone knife. Golden cup. Bloody smile. Merlin isn't moving. So much anger. Can't stop. Morgana. Hate. Fury. Death. Gone. All of them. Gone.

This last batch of fleeting memories finally forced the future king to wake up. He jerked into a sitting position, breathing heavily as the last memory slowly faded away to oblivion. He glanced at the tangled blanket that had accidentally bound his legs together. Slowly, he reached down and freed his trapped limbs with a slightly trembling hand. Everything was slick with his sweat, so it took a bit more time and maneuvering than he had expected. Finally completed with the task, he settled back into the makeshift bed, unsure if he wanted to sleep again or not. Arthur's drooping eyelids told him to risk it.

Fortunately, he was not plagued by nightmares the second time. His first ordeal with them had exhausted him so greatly that he fell instantly into a deep sleep. No gory pictures flitted through his mind; no tiny details appeared to him.

Arthur was dreading the return to Camelot for several reasons. The first was that if Morgana had truly invaded in the short span of a few days—which she certainly now had the powers needed to pull off such a feat in such a small bit of time—they surely would be riding to their inevitable dooms. It almost would be easier if that was the case.

The second reason dealt with "most important guest" to the fatal "party" hosted by the two witches and the warlock. He did not relish explaining to his father that they had been harboring a very powerful warlock for the past couple of years, nor did he want to tell him that Emrys was once right under his nose. The third reason was the results of the sacrifice. Uther's former ward was currently invincible and out to raze Camelot to the ground. There were just some things that never should be said to Uther. The forth reason dealt solely with Merlin. He didn't was to see the other's reactions, he didn't want to bury his friend, and he didn't was to be forced into slandering Merlin's name unwillingly.

Arthur didn't know if he was disappointed or relieved to see the white walls of Camelot sitting safely on their majestic perch, red and gold flags soaring proudly. He knew as a prince he should be overjoyed to find his kingdom untouched by Morgana's deadly talon. But knowing that it was only a matter of time before she attacked made the peace seem so fragile and the hope seem so false. There was no way to stop the deadly trio of sorcerers, and he just wanted the attack to come so they wouldn't fear it for days in advance. He was torn between informing the people or lying about the whole thing to keep them content and in the dark.

As he and the knights "clipclopped" over the lowered drawbridge, loud cries of joy echoed around him. Arthur grimaced, already feeling the crushing effect of his untold lie. He waved to the people like he had been trained to since birth, but there was no heart in his action. They slowly dragged themselves into the welcoming gates of the castle, the entire party now seeming to be weighed down by the dangerous knowledge they possessed. Arthur dismissed most of his men, ordering them to get a long rest, spend time with their families, and prepare. A predictable few refused to leave his side, and decided to forsake their own personal wants for the needs of their future king.

Uther swept down the steps, proudly grinning at his son. He had yet to realize that there was sorrow in their steps and worry in their eyes. Uther only had eyes on his returned son; the lost prince who had went missing after a horrible raid and now was home. It never occurred to Uther that one of his greatest friends had lost his own "son" to this ordeal.

Arthur refused to look in Gaius's direction. He was sure the old man was craning his neck to try to find his grinning ward and son. "We have returned, Father."

Something was slightly off to Uther, but he couldn't place it. "So you have," Uther grabbed his son's shoulder and rattled it proudly. "So you have." When Arthur winced at the action, the king finally started to see the slipping masks all around him. He finally figured out what had been strange about his son's return. There had been no bumbling idiot standing beside the prince. Since he had assigned that demented boy to be Arthur's manservant all those years ago when he somehow managed to save his life, he had never seen the two apart except for in extreme cases. "Where is your foolish manservant, Arthur?" Uther tried to make it sound like he didn't care. However, he too felt a slight bit of worry. Although he would never admit it, he had grown to enjoy the boy's afflicted mind, even though it was completely impertinent.

Arthur's eyes dropped to the ground. "Merlin's dead," he murmured. He peeked up to glance at Gaius and felt his heart twist even sharper into knots. The old man was staring at their hastily covered wagon with a horrorstruck expression. The court physician connected the dots quickly; there had been no covered cart when they left a few days ago—it had to have been made to cover up something from view when they reached Camelot. Gwen was standing next to Gaius, practically supporting the doctor, who had seemed to simply collapse against her. Tears brimmed in her dark eyes as she searched Arthur's blank face for any sort of explanation. The somber expressions of her brother and the other remaining knights only further confirmed her fears. A single tear leaked from her eye, snaking its way down her dark face and dripping off of her cheek, leaving behind a single gray stain on the ground below.

"Bandits?" Uther was surprised. He had seen the two come back from much more extreme with hardly a scratch.

It's the moment of truth. Arthur paused for a moment, sighed, and then shook his head. "Morgana."

Uther's eyebrows lowered dangerously, and Arthur instantly regretted telling the truth to his father. Knowing his former ward and daughter was behind another evil scheme only hurt Uther. It did not enrage him, as he usually would be when told of a vengeful sorcerer. Instead, the king looked very tired all of a sudden, the scar on his forehead standing out violently against the man's pale skin.

"Would this be something that you wish to tell me alone?" Uther whispered. He forced a smile onto his face so he would not alert his people that something was wrong. Even though he knew the reason for this, Arthur still felt partly betrayed.

He glanced around at the curious faces peering at him. Many of them hadn't been able to hear when Arthur whispered Merlin's fate. They only knew that their prince was back home. Arthur decided to go against his usual gut feeling of wanting to inform the people of any danger, and instead nodded. "It'll be best if I told you alone."

The king nodded stiffly and turned around, robes sweeping elegantly behind him. He started off proudly up the stairs, his dejected son trailing beyond him. Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur could see his most trusted knights following him like lost puppies. When Uther had disappeared through the heavy doors, Arthur twisted his body slightly so he could look them in the eye more comfortably.

"Go see Gaius," he said. "Many of you are injured."

Sir Gwaine rudely said something that had the King of Camelot heard him, his new residency would be the stocks. Sir Elyan agreed with him, but with not so colorful words. Sir Percival merely nodded. His injuries were not so bad that he could still aid the prince, that nod seemed to say.

Arthur was touched, but he knew this was something he had to do alone. "I said, go see Gaius for your injuries," he ordered in a stern and dangerous voice.

The other knights now decided it was best not to argue with him. Even Gwaine cowed slightly under the prince's brutal glare. Sir Leon, however, was the only one who believed he was the exception to this demand.

"My Lord, I am not injured," he started uncertainly. "Surely you must want someone to escort you to your Father's chambers…?"

Arthur hesitated, and shook his head for a third time. "No, I do not need the assistance." His voice had softened. Many of the viewing commoners had drifted off once their king had disappeared. "Please, just go to Gaius's." Even though he was addressing Sir Leon, he was obviously talking to them all. "Help break it to him and Gwen." Arthur thought for a moment. "And Sir Lancelot." The knight had been incapacitated by an accidental training exercise and had been denied the "privilege" to accompany them on the hunting trip. Some privilege. The gallant knight had insisted that he was fine enough to go along, but Arthur refused to let him, standing firm on his belief that an injured knight had no place on a hunting trip for fun. The prince wondered briefly if having one of the best fighters in Camelot with them would have prevented certain things, but Arthur quickly banished the "what ifs" from his mind. What was done was done. "Tell them what happened." He hesitated again. "The whole truth."

"Yes, My Lord," Sir Leon ducked his head respectfully and backed up. He and the remaining injured knights took their leave and went to the court physician. All four of them were dreading the awful reaction that the three would have once they told them what had really caused Merlin's death. It was beneath a knight's dignity to draw straws, but it was a very tempting concept at the moment.

Arthur turned back around, leaving them to decide for themselves. Taking a deep breath, he followed his father's footsteps back into the castle, ignoring the polite and faint cheering that swirled around him.

Arthur expected his father's reaction to the story to be anger. However, he was not prepared to as to whom the king was angry at. Instead of being furious at Morgana, he was mad at Arthur and Merlin. Although he was mad about Morgana's new growth in power and her intentions, he was more furious at the method by which she got it, including the person that was sacrificed to give her the invincibility.

"You're telling me that that boy was secretly a sorcerer?" The king roared. "He was in my house for these past years and you didn't tell me?"

"Father!" Arthur objected. "I didn't even know that Merlin was a sorcerer until Morgana told me."

"How could you not have noticed?" He snarled "He has been your manservant for over five years. Surely the sorcerer must have done something that would have tipped you off. If you were a bit more observant—"

Arthur suddenly was tired of his father's yelling. "Merlin was forced to hide his magic from me!" He interrupted. "If you didn't kill every sorcerer that entered Camelot, he would have told me." Would Merlin have told me…?

"This proves how dangerous sorcery is, Arthur!" Uther shouted back. "If I had been less lenient on magic, this never would have happened. Your manservant should not have come to Camelot if he feared for his life. Because he did come to Camelot, we are now at the brink of collapse!"

"You can't put the blame on Merlin, Father! Morgana is the one who did this. It is she who we fear. He suffered at her hand! Merlin has never done anything that would put us in harm!"

A doubtful chuckle was ripped from the king. "You have proof? The hearts of sorcerers are all the same. That boy was probably trying to take the throne of Camelot for himself." Uther peered down at his son with a suspicious look. "Who knows what he was able to sway you into doing. You've been a puppet for that boy for the la—"

"Merlin has saved my life more times than I can count!" Arthur insisted. "If I did ever catch him using magic, I would probably have…turned a blind eye…" The murmured words were out of Arthur's mouth before he could stop them.

"What!?" A red vein had begun to pulse dangerously in the king's temple. "What did you say you would do?"

Feeling a surge of fool's courage, Arthur looked directly into his father's eyes. "Merlin never used his magic for evil," he repeated. "He only used it to save me and Camelot. If he was caught, I would try to save him from execution. It would be the least he deserved."

This was too much for the king. "This defending of a sorcerer only proves to me that you have been possessed by him. Clearly his enchantment on you has not yet passed, despite his death."

"No! Merlin would never enchant me!"

"We must burn his body so that all remnants of his magic will be destroyed." Worry flickered briefly through the king's eyes as he regarded his son. "We must set fire to his corpse immediately before Morgana attacks. I cannot have you trying to throw the battle while your mind is possessed by this dead sorcerer's curse." An ugly sneer rose on Uther's face as he referred to Merlin. He swept past his son, calling for a humongous wooden spit to be built without delay.

Arthur gritted his teeth, prepared to argue until the breath left his body. However, time was running out, and he realized that shouting with perhaps the most stubborn man in history was not the best way of preserving his friend's memory. "Wait!" The king froze, but did not turn around to face his son.

Please forgive me, Merlin. "I want to be the one to end my curse," Arthur forced out in a cold voice. He nearly choked over his own lie. "But delay the burning of his body for now. We must focus instead on defeating Morgana, Morgause, and Mordred."

Uther scrutinized his son with narrowed eyes, searching for any kind of trap or trickery. "You now agree with me that your manservant was an evil and dangerous practitioner of sorcery?"

Arthur swallowed thickly. "I will lower the flame to his pyre myself."

Satisfied, Uther nodded and recalled the order to have the pyre built. He left the room without another glance at his son.

When the heavy doors of his father's chamber swung shut with a bang, Arthur felt all of his strength leave him. He sagged against his father's elegant bedpost, wondering what they were possibly going to do when his half-sister came. Never had he ever felt so alone.

Arthur found himself standing in front of Gaius's door, hard fist raised to knock. He steeled his mind for what he was about to walk into, and his fist came down on the wooden door with a loud boom. The hushed whispering that could be faintly heard from within halted suddenly. Slowly the door creaked open, and Arthur found himself staring at a very surprised Sir Leon.

"Sire?" Surprised eyebrows rose. "Is something wrong?"

More wrong that Merlin's death and Morgana's unstoppable invasion? "It is only a matter of time before Morgana gathers the courage to finally strike Camelot. We must prepare." Slowly the gaunt faces of the other knights appeared behind Sir Leon.

Leon nodded. "I understand." The man's gaze flitted tentatively to Gaius, the bulky form of the physician looming over the prone figure on the faraway cot, his back to the knights. Gwen was sitting on the edge of the boy's bed, dabbing at her eyes every so often. She stared at her beloved's face, and Arthur could tell that she was grateful that her prince had returned relatively unscathed. The girl's shoulders slumped, and Arthur could read her thoughts as plainly as if she had said them. Morgana must pay for what she has done.

"I—" Arthur faltered before continuing strongly. "I understand if many of you fear Morgana's new power. And I understand if you do not wish to fight her, especially after seeing what she has…done. I will not judge any of you if you wish to leave Camelot before the battle. You will not be branded as cowards."

Lancelot pushed himself off of the closest cot and hobbled to the door, favoring his left leg. "Sire, I would like to help." He paused, struggling to find the right words. "And I will lay down my life to stop Morgana and her evil intentions." And avenge Merlin. "I know I am not at my best, but it will have to do."

Arthur nodded, not trusting himself to say a word. The other knights each gave their own swears of loyalty. Each new promise made it harder for Arthur to breath. He shook each of their hands and thanked them for their courage. He turned his gaze to Gwen and Gaius, but instantly drew it away. It would be unfair to ask for their help.

Gaius gave the prince a broken smile. "I may be just an old man, but I'll do anything you need me to do, Sire."

"Thank you, Gaius," Arthur returned with his own relieved smile. The future king rested a comforting hand on Gaius's shoulder before letting it slip off. "Your help will be greatly appreciated." He turned to leave with the rest of his knights.

"Am I not allowed to help because I'm a woman?" Gwen crossed her arms and tried to force an offended expression on her pale face.

"Guinevere!" Elyan was shocked at his sister's frankness with their future king. "You are going to go to the forest and stay safe until we come to get you."

Gwen's cocked a brow at her brother; Arthur could see that sibling rivalry never truly did die. "You aren't the boss of me, Elyan." She turned to plead her case to Arthur. "I've participated in dozens of battles, My Lord, and never have they truly meant something to me as much as this one. It would be cruel to not let me play a part."

"I suppose if I don't let you participate, you'll steal a sword and fight on the front line."

"That is correct, Sire."

Arthur sighed, knowing very well that the girl wasn't bluffing. "Very well," he said, ignoring Elyan's protests. "You will help Gaius in the hospital." She held her hand out as the other knights had done, and he engulfed the slender offering with his own sweaty hand. "I know you want to fight, but you must aid him. He probably took this harder than any of us." He lightly squeezed her warm hand.

Guinevere nodded, her brown eyes still glistening. "Be careful," she whispered.

"Don't worry about me," Arthur gave her hand another squeeze before letting it slowly slip from his grasp. Most of the other knights shifted uncomfortably, feeling as if they were intruders to this private moment. Oddly enough, Elyan was the only one who seemed oblivious to the romance. It was a good thing, seeing as if the young knight had known about the affair, Morgana's job would have become much easier. However, the dark knight was starting to be a bit suspicious of his king's lingering "handshake."

"My Lord, I have a que—"

Just then the room shuddered as the entire castle was blasted with a magical burst. Various bottles and vials toppled, falling from their lofty perches and smashing on the stone floor. Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur noticed an orangish-red liquid that dribbled into the path of a deep blue serum. When the two potions mixed, they foamed and formed a lilac hued liquid. Arthur was about to ask if that was something they should be concerned about, when another magical explosion rocked the room.

Morgana was attacking.

Bum bum BUM! Thanks for reading! :D