"Merlin," Leon shouted as the young prince wandered away from camp. Pausing, Merlin closed his eyes. He just needed a moment to gather his thoughts and organize his magic in his head.

"I have to go Leon," Merlin called over his shoulder. "My body calls for me to take a break…"

"I understand, Sire. Be careful."

Merlin realized that all of Camelot was on edge. Fear seeped in their very souls. What if they couldn't locate Arthur, their future king and golden future? Merlin was merely the other one. Nothing important about him. He knew that the people didn't believe in him, and it hurt his heart deeply. He longed for the carefree days with his mother.

His heavy boots cracked dry twigs as he stomped around the darkening forests. Brushing a weary hand over his face he thought of his brother. Where in the hell was Arthur? He walked until he saw a blue green lake shimmering before a thick grouping of trees.

He moved towards the edge of the lake, his large hand scooping cool water to his mouth. He drank deeply as he loudly gulped the refreshing water.

"Where are you manners, my son? Did I not teach you not to gulp?"

Water dripped from his fingers as he opened them in shock. His gentle blue eyes glinted with tears as they roamed over the beautiful image of his mother.

"Mother," he whispered softly.

Gwen screamed in fear as an old woman that resembled her mother wrapped her arms around her as she hurriedly down a dark corridor.

"Mother, Father," Gwen shouted loudly as the woman held tighter. Tangled curly hair blocking her eyes. Tears running into her open mouth as she screamed in fear. "Let me go," she cried out, all the while wriggling, twisting her arms and legs.

Gwen smiled when she saw her father running across the ramparts. He was coming to save her. His large hand curled around a shining sword her heart cracked when a man wearing a red cloak flung a knife at her Father's chest. Tom dropped to his knees when the blade pierced his heart. Coldly, the man stepped around her dying Father.

Gwen's body went limp in the woman's arms.

Arthur heard the girl shouting as he attempted to sleep. What was her name? He tossed and turned as he could feel her soft lips under his; the lushness of her curls around his finger; her soft bosom pressed against his chest. Back in Camelot, he would have had her without any regret.

She's a dammed witch. Arthur didn't like witches.

Hearing the girls shouts, he rolled out of bed grabbing his sword, as her of distress grew louder andincreasingly pitiful. Hurriedly, he rushed out of his room to rescue the girl. What was her name?

Carefully, he sidestepped furniture in the darkness. He noticed that the cottage appeared to be secured and a large lurking bear sleeping under a tree. She has a pet bear. How did I get into this mess? A witch saved me? Witches were evil. Yet, she was soft, sweet, and kind. Fire burned in his eyes when he remembered her fierce defense and her quick thinking in the woods. She was a puzzle.

Cautiously, he turned the ornate handle to her bedroom. Steeping inside, his eyes looked for intruders. Lavender assaulted his senses. Lowering his sword, Arthur walked around Gwen's room. Moonlight caressed her sleeping body; he could see a fine sheen of sweat across her brow. Her fingers clutched the fine linen of her pillow. Her legs kicked restlessly as she murmured, "Father."

Arthur was taken aback by the wave of tenderness that enveloped him. He strolled over to her bed, and brushed damp hair from closed eyes. Smiling, he remembered how his mother fought his nightmares.

He ignored the urge to climb into her bed and imagine what he would discover what was under her delicate white lace nightgown, but spotted an extra blanket on a nearby chair. Grabbing the fuzzy pink blanket, Arthur lowered his body next to the sleeping girl. Wriggling until he could find a comfortable spot. He snuggled closer to Gwen resting her tangled head on his shoulder.

"Gwen… that's her name." She had earned his respect and he would not shame her.

Staring at her sleeping face, his nose scrunched. "You're not a Gwen. You should been given an elegant glorious name. Something like… I don't. But not Gwen."

Gwen shivered in his arms. "It's okay," he whispered into her hair.

He closed his heavy eyelids. "How did I get into this mess," he wondered as he dozed off.

A/N: Please forgive me… I switched schools over the summer. The kids are winning… big time! Going to do little chapters until my empire can strike back. I lost the battle, but I will defeat those 4th graders.