A/N Get ready for a big surprise ;)

"Keep your head down, don't look anyone in the eye—if you just follow the rules and do as you're told, no one will look twice. If you want to practice shooting and sparring, get to the training grounds early in the morning, before other people arrive." Gaius advised to Ronan.

"I know, I know, I'm not a child." Ronan scrunched his face up, looking childish. "Though I'm not sure how I'm supposed to spar alone."

"Remember also, when you go to the woods, check and make sure that no one follows you. If anyone sees you leaving or asks questions, show them this paper," Gaius continued lecturing. "I packed the things you need in that bag by the door, they'll make the job easier, you won't have to use as much energy as before. And pick me up some violets, while you're there, they'll be helpful for Merlin's sleep disturbances. Do you remember the description I gave you?"

"Heart-shaped leaves, deep purple flowers, five petals."

There was a knock at the door. "Come in!" Gaius answered, then looked at Ronan, "You better finish that quickly." The door swung open and Merlin stepped in, hovering hesitantly at the door.

"Oh…you're still having breakfast, I can come back."

Gaius insisted Merlin stay and ushered him to sit down at the table. Ronan kept his head down and scooted over to make room. Merlin tried unsuccessfully to engage Ronan with a joke and catch his gaze, but the boy sprang up like a coil as soon as he finished breakfast, and bolted out the door. However, as soon as Ronan was out in the hallway, his blank facial expression dropped, like it was a mask. Fiiiinally, Ronan thought, feeling more excited as he jogged towards the archery fields. No one else was around yet when he got there—the sun was just beginning to rise above the horizon. Picking up a bow and arrow, he took aim, and released. The target whizzed forward and landed square in the bullseye.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

Ronan spun around in alarm.

"Not bad." Gwaine sauntered over, "How'd a little village boy learn to shoot arrows?"

"My father taught me…he was an armorer," Ronan responded stiffly.

Gwaine grinned and threw him a wooden sparring sword, "Catch."

Ronan reached for it but was too late—the sword thudded onto the grass. Face reddening, he leaned down to grab it, but just as his fingers curled around the grip, Gwaine knocked it out of his hand. "HEY! I wasn't looking!"

"Exactly. Which would be the perfect moment for an enemy to strike." Gwaine pointed at the fallen sword, "Pick it up."

Keeping his eyes on Gwaine, Ronan reached his hand out, slowly this time, but deliberately. He grabbed the sword in one swift movement and withdrew, placing his body into a sparring position.

"That's more like it. Let's see what you've got."

"Mordred, please talk to me."

"I am talking to you Morgana. I've been talking to you every day, what more do you want?" Mordred was walking quickly along the hallway, as Morgana scurried to stay in stride with him.

"Can you just, stop walking for a moment? I just-"

Mordred stopped abruptly, causing Morgana to crash into him. Turning around, he forced a smile, "What is it, my love?"

Morgana paused a moment, wringing her hands, "That dark magic scroll you used, to practice magic of the Old Religion, do you think perhaps, it was too much for you?"

"Too much for me?"

"Isn't it possible that you've been damaged by some of the side effects? More than you care to acknowledge?"

Mordred's smile dropped, and his face darkened, "Ramsay is the one who was damaged."

"You're a powerful warlock Mordred, I'm not saying you aren't," Morgana added quickly as she caught Mordred's expression, "But you're still a young warlock, and your powers are not what they will be in ten years time. I went to speak with the Dochraid…and I think you may have taken on magic that's too powerful for you to control. It's…might be hurting you…changing you…" even as she spoke, Morgana noticed the slight changes in Mordred's appearance, how much taller he'd become, and how his hair had become a lighter brown (were his eyes always green?), "but I think I can help."

"Is that so?

"Yes! You see, I learned a spell recently—it can put up some temporary blocks in your mind that will wall off the negative energy swirling around in your body—energy that isn't yours," feeling more confident as she explained, Morgana gave a small smile, "I won't let anything bad happen to you." [1]

Mordred didn't say anything, but walked towards Morgana. He kept on advancing until she was almost pinned up against the wall. Then he leaned his face up against hers, cheek to cheek, voice barely higher than a whisper, "But bad things have already happened to me Morgana. And you weren't there to stop them. You were too busy helping Emrys."

Morgana was taken aback, Mordred had never talked to her like this before. "I didn't…"

"He was on the brink of death, after weeks of torture and poisoning. A infant stood better chances of escaping than him. No…he couldn't have run away on his own—he couldn't have even woken up—unless you helped him. And you did more than just help, didn't you? You used every ounce of magic you had within you to save him."

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." Morgana trailed off as Mordred spun around abruptly and departed. Waves of shock, shame, and guilt were crashing over her. It was true. What Mordred said. In fact, the very spell she had mentioned, about setting up barriers to temporarily ward off destructive energy and memories, was one she had learned to help heal Merlin.

The spell was complicated and she hadn't been very good at it then—just prior to breaking him out of Ramsay's dungeon; she just barely managed to put couple flimsy walls in Merlin's mind. The spell flickered in and out, not providing continual effectiveness. When the walls were up, Merlin would have moments of peace and quiet, where he functioned with selective amnesia—not remembering any of the bad things. He kept calling Morgana by the name of Freya, and seemed unaware of his predicament—even managing to joke around. But these protected recovery periods were interspersed with moments of violent disquietude, where the memories of his torture would come crashing down—a crippling experience on his consciousness, fraught with hallucinations and shaking. Morgana had hoped that eventually when the course of her spell ran out, Merlin would be back in Camelot and able to recover on his own, with an army of medical support available to him. She told herself she was simply repaying Merlin for kindnesses he had shown her in the past.

Amidst this reverie, Mordred's accusatory eyes suddenly swam into her mind. I won't let anything bad happen to you. I promise. [1]

*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*

"I will not sign this piece of rubbish," Morgause insisted. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Morgana slip into the council chambers, hastily wiping at her eyes as she walked over to an available chair.

"But Morgause, you must see reason here. What purpose have we to continue invading Camelot? The new king has lifted the ban on magic and has promised a re-evaluation of policies he deemed as unfair." One of the sorcerers was waving around a handful of papers.

Another one jumped in, "Yes, in fact, the Druids say that a legendary warlock has been appointed as official Court Sorcerer. He is to be our voice in the process of this transition and ensure that our rights are represented."

Morgause sneered, "You mean, the boy who was once the prince's manservant? Who stood idly by while Uther continued to hunt and slay our kind? You trust him to be our voice?"

There was silence. Some of the sorcerers shifted uncomfortably in their seats. "King Arthur has decreed that he will ride out to numerous Druid camps and magical hideouts, as a sign of peace. That seems like a show of good faith. We want to avoid bloodshed if possible…"

Fury flashed across Morgause's eyes. "OUT! ALL OF YOU GET OUT." Chairs scooted back deafeningly as the sorcerers hastened to exit Cenred's council chambers. "Bunch of useless, spineless cowards," she muttered. Mordred glided towards her from a spot against the wall.

"Cheer up. Agravaine delivered us the route that Arthur and Merlin are going to take. It arrived by raven this afternoon."

"That festering worm? Almost getting himself caught with Uther's assassination debacle. It's a wonder he's still alive, and at court," Morgause said scathingly.

"You're just mad because he says we shouldn't kill Arthur."

"And why shouldn't that make me mad? Taking orders from a coward."

Mordred took on a patronizing tone, "The country loves Arthur. If we killed him, everyone would revolt. No one would subject to Morgana's rule. We need to depose of Arthur publicly. Once we've taken the city, we need to keep him on as a puppet."

Morgause lifted an eyebrow, "Since when did you get so devious Mordred?"

Mordred ignored the question, "What we need is power, power to take the city. And that power will come from Emrys. Willingly, or not."

Morgana was staring at her lap, and said softly, "I'd like to accompany Mordred, in capturing Emrys."

"Oh, you mean to atone for your mistake?" Mordred sneered.

Morgause didn't seem to notice, and nodded, "I'll need to do some strategizing and preparing with Cenred over the next couple of months. I trust you two can take care of this."

"I just need to head into the woods to gather some final materials," Mordred announced.

"You've been through a lot lately Merlin. Gaius says you shouldn't be going on long excursions right now; you should be resting and recovering."

"Magic is no longer outlawed, you're the king, and we're about to enter an era of peace! All-in-all, I'd say I'm actually doing quite well, better than ever…well, barring the occasional bad memory…" Merlin paused, "besides, I don't think I'll be able to do much recovering if I have to spend all day worrying about you being an idiot and getting into potentially fatal situations."

"Fatal situations?" Arthur's pitch cranked up incredulously.

"You…do remember me describing all the copious and creative ways people have tried to assassinate you…right? Because there were a LOT."

Arthur huffed, "Well I didn't understand much about magic then, didn't know what to look for. Now I do," crossing his arms, "just need to keep my eyes peeled for servants that are really bad their job, because they're most likely spending their time doing non-sanctioned activities instead of their chores. Meanwhile, if instead of deceiving their masters, they had just come out in the open about things, a lot of bad situations might have been averted. Oh and you know what? They'll probably be pretty mouthy too."

"Ouch! Somebody's got some underlying anger issues that need to be addressed…"

"Anger issues?!" Arthur pointed at his crown, "You see this shiny yellow piece of metal here, on my head? It means I'm your king, which means you are actually supposed to obey me unquestionably and unfailingly."

"Does that line ever actually work on anyone?" Merlin had to duck as Arthur chucked a balled-up shirt at him.

Arthur sighed, "I'm not going to be able to stop you from coming am I?"

Merlin grinned and shook his head, "It'll be fun. Just like old times, except now I don't have to hide the fact that I'm saving your backside all the time."

Arthur mumbled grumpily and went back to perusing the papers at his desk—peace treaties he was going to sign with the leaders of various Druidic tribes. Merlin walked over to the window and hopped up to sit on the ledge. Across the courtyard, he saw Ronan jogging sprightly through the citadel gates with a burlap sack by his side. For a moment, Merlin swore he saw green eyes again, but blinked and shook his head, Ronan's eyes are brown, he told himself. I should try apologizing again sometime, things still don't seem right between me and him [2].

The door banged open and Gwaine staggered through the doorway, "Arthurrr! C'moonnnnn, don't be such a princess." Ever since the council meeting ended, Gwaine had been trying to convince everyone to head to the tavern, but it seemed the tavern had already found him.

Arthur however, couldn't be goaded, "What I'm being, actually, is a king."

Gwaine slung one of his arms around Lancelot, who had just poked his head in, "Fine then, me and Lance will just have all the fun without you."

"Don't let him get out of hand," Arthur cautioned looking at Lancelot, who nodded in understanding and began walking Gwaine out. This was no easy task, as Gwaine seemed determined not to walk in a straight line. It was with great difficulty that they managed to reach the main courtyard. Stumbling through the citadel gates, Gwaine spotted Ronan and tried to usher him over, but the squire shook his head and held up a piece of paper with tasks from Gaius listed on it.

"That can wait, can't it?" Gwaine whined. Ronan shook his head and sprinted off.

Lancelot smiled, "A good lad."

"Aye, too good."

"Haha, not everyone's as cavalier about breaking the rules as you are Gwaine."

"No I don't mean just that," Gwaine argued, "He's too good…to just be a village boy."

"Some of us aren't quite so lucky to be born with the noble titles that afford us opportunities for our talents."

"Indeed," Gwaine clapped Lancelot on the shoulder, "and some fine men among them," then continued, "But I was saying that Ronan's archery skills, basic combat training, and knowledge of court behavior is far beyond what I'd expect…I mean, what village boy's father teaches him-" His contemplations were cut short as they arrived at the tavern, where many of the knights were already gathered. A couple of them shouted and began roaring in laughter as Gwaine entered.

"How many will it take before Gwaine the Great lands on his arse today? HAR HAR HAR!"

"More than it takes you!"

Ronan slowed down as he finally exited the citadel gates. Far away from the judgmental looks of people in court, he always felt more at ease. While in the Lower Town he stopped to buy a baked sweet potato—his favorite—the shopkeeper gave him two, "You've lost weight little lad—could scarcely recognize you today!" Carts were beginning to roll by as farmers headed back to their homes. Still munching on the sweet potatoes, Ronan skipped along playfully, kicking up bits of dirt as he progressed.

"Oy, watch yourself!" one of the men on carts yelled, but chuckled as Ronan made a face and ran off. Further down along the main path out of the city, he broke off from the carts, heading towards the tree line. As he began to tread deeper into the woods, towards a stream Gaius had brought him to last time, he thought of the old physician's words from that morning, When you go to the woods, check and make sure that no one follows you. "I know!" Ronan said aloud and glanced around. Overhead the sky became dusty gray as the sun was setting, further obscuring the features of the forest. Luckily, the creek was not far off and soon Ronan could hear trickling sounds ahead. Running up to the grassy bank, he dumped the contents of his sack on the ground. Gathering up a peculiar-looking goblet and the small vials, he brought them over to the stream. Amidst the moving water, Ronan caught a glimpse of himself. A pair of bright green eyes stared back.

I packed the things you need in that bag by the door, they'll make the job easier, you won't have to use as much energy as before. [3]

"I sure hope so," Ronan quickly filled the goblet up and whispered some words under his breath, causing the water to bubble and shimmer. He put the cup to his lips but paused at the sound of rustling in bushes. "Who's there?"

A shadowy figure stepped out. Ronan squinted for a moment and then gasped, dropping the goblet, which thudded softly onto the grass, spilling the liquid within. "You… but…they said you died…Camelot's scouts found your body in pieces!"

The shadowy figure smiled, "Now is that any way to greet a brother?"

"R-ramsay, I don't know how you're doing it, or what kind of twisted, dark magic you're using, but it's wrong. That body doesn't belong to you, and you should be dead."

"Ramsay IS dead, Riona. My name is Mordred. I've simply absorbed Ramsay's soul, and with it, his power…and all his memories."

"You-you stupid idiot! You absorbed his soul? You've made him immortal! You're…you're probably becoming him!" Ronan scrambled backwards and jumped up, breaking into a run. Mordred opened the palm of his hand and shot out a glowing white ring. Rotating like a boomerang, it sliced into Ronan's calf, splashing blood onto the ground.

"AHHHH!" Ronan screamed, but kept running—albeit with a limp.

"Ha ha," Mordred chuckled, "Run on back to Camelot…little sister. I've gotten what I need, for now." He watched the retreating figure for a few moments, before opening an empty vial and collecting some of the blood that had spattered on the ground, blood spilt from the girl he had just injured.

[1] Season 1 Episode 8: The Beginning of the End

[2] In the previous story, Merlin accidentally attacked Ronan and threw him against the wall, mistaking him for Ramsay

[3] Stated by Gaius earlier than morning, at the beginning of the chapter.

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