A/N: Sincerest apologies. I changed my mind (which I hardly ever do after beginning to upload) on the format. I've revised it to be one ep per chapter, due to the fact that some of these were getting very long, and it didn't make sense to me anymore to have the end of one ep and the beginning of another in one chapter… so this chapter is old material, but the next is all of ep.1.8 "Another Beginning" (my title for "The Beginning of the End"), and tomorrow I should have another complete chapter of ep.1.9 "Excalibur". Thanks for bearing with me!

VII. The Gates of Avalon

Before Merlin came to Camelot, Arthur was rarely allowed to leave the confines of the city without at least one guard, and Uther preferred two. Now, though, the young sorcerer routinely acted the prince's bodyguard, and if the king knowingly risked injury to his heir to prove Merlin's incompetence, Arthur himself wasn't worried. Merlin suited him just fine as a companion and guard both, whenever he escaped the pressures and expectations of the city to roam the woods.

He could chatter and exchange insults when Arthur needed cheering, and he could move like a ghost in sunlight when Arthur was intent upon his prey. Unfortunately, Arthur had the sneaking suspicion that Merlin also employed his own version of a regulation of Arthur's kills. Whether because he resisted the burden of extra weight or had a better idea than Arthur of what would be welcomed in the palace kitchen. A not-so-subtle hint that he was tired or bored – or a genuine interest in the flora of the place rather than the fauna. When Merlin was done hunting, so was Arthur, whether he liked it or not.

Arthur froze in place, seeing through a gap in the foliage a young buck, less than fifty yards. Still too far – the buck raised its head, alerted somehow. No use, then, sneaking closer; Arthur leveled the crossbow.

And Merlin blundered right into his back, sending the bolt wild and spooking the buck to kick up his hooves and disappear. "Merlin!" he growled.

"What is it?" his friend returned with a complete lack of concern, untangling the string that dangled a brace of rabbits already.

"You know, you really are –"

"I was just asking," Merlin cut him off.

"Who were you asking? Me or the deer?" Arthur huffed, and reminded the younger man, "Hunting requires speed, stealth, and an agile mind." He re-wound the crossbow, fitting another bolt into the groove.

Merlin shot back with a grin, "So you get by on two out of three, then?" Arthur opened his mouth to inquire which of the three Merlin supposed he didn't possess, and was interrupted by a scream which yanked his attention from his friend. He was already moving when Merlin said, almost to himself, "What was that?" by the sound of it hard on Arthur's heels.

"Help!" It was a woman's voice, and he lengthened his stride.

He could see them before he reached them – four bandits. Two had a yellow-cloaked female restrained between them, a third was menacing a blue-cloaked man, prostrate and begging for mercy. The fourth raised a sword – Arthur shot him down with the crossbow one-handed and tossed it aside, drawing his sword on the run.

One of the bandits released the woman in the yellow cloak to attack; Arthur parried the blow, ducking and elbowing the man hard in the back of the neck, sending him stumbling back, just in time to duck a swing from the third. Overbalanced, the bandit could not recover in time to defend against Arthur's sword, which stabbed through the center of his body. The woman was freed as the last bandit chose flight over fight.

Without sparing him more than a glance, Arthur spun to finish the one he'd knocked behind him – just in time to see Merlin glance up with a golden flash, and an enormous section of dead branch crash down onto the attacker, who crumpled motionless.

"Stroke of luck," Arthur told Merlin, pulling back on his instinctive smile.

"You think I drop them without aiming?" Merlin returned. He hadn't even let go the string of Arthur's rabbits.

Arthur crossed to the strangers, the man in the blue cloak on his feet now – of his own father's age, face lined, grey hair and beard short and neat. He had his arms around the woman in the yellow cloak, comforting her. "Are you all right?" Arthur asked them. "They didn't hurt you?"

The woman turned, reaching to fold down the hood of her cloak. "No, thanks to you."

Arthur's heart kicked in his chest. She smiled, and all he could think was – honey. The golden brown silk of her dress, the lighter hue of the cloak, the warm light brown of her eyes, the perfect shade of her hair between blonde and brown, the delicate strand of fine gold chain that dipped from her tresses onto the smooth white skin of her forehead. His eyes dropped to her lips and he wondered if she tasted –

"I'm Sophia, this is my father," the girl added.

Arthur wished, now, that he had a pair of proper guards rather than only a skinny, gawky boy in attendance – that he himself was wearing better than his oldest of forest-prowling clothes, sweaty and out-of-breath, and - He bent over her offered hand to kiss it. "Arthur Pendragon, at your service," he said. "I have horses not far from here, please allow me to escort you to Camelot."

…..*…..

Merlin couldn't stop grinning. And Arthur couldn't seem to stop glancing behind him at the pair of strangers they'd rescued in the woods, mounted on the horses they'd ridden into the forest earlier that morning. Or at least, he couldn't stop sneaking looks at the lady.

"Do me a favor, Arthur," he said conversationally as the white stone of the citadel came into sight, the lower town just around a bend in the road.

"Hm?" Arthur said, not paying him any attention.

"When I fall in love, could you remind me to apply a little subtlety?"

"What?" Arthur frowned at him in confusion, then shoved him out of stride. "I'm not in love, Merlin, it's just…"

"She is, um, very beautiful," Merlin remarked.

"Yes, she is." Arthur glanced back again. "But my intentions are entirely honorable. And I'm not in love – trust me, when I am, you'll be the first to know."

"Now that's just ridiculous," Merlin said reasonably. "You'll be the first to know. And then the lady, probably. And then you'll have to tell your father, and your sister… Gaius will be interested to know, and there's Geoffrey and Leon…"

"No, you're right," Arthur said. "I won't bother telling you at all. You can hear it from someone else?"

"Fine by me," Merlin said, darting him a sidelong glance. "If you're going to be even more – hm, distracted…"

"Shut up, Merlin."

Arthur kept his eyes resolutely forward after that, Merlin was amused to note, through the lower town, over the drawbridge, across the courtyard. He did turn at the stairs to invite the visitors to accompany him into the king's presence, but he glanced at Merlin and was very formal.

Merlin delayed a few moments to be sure the stable attendant took charge of the mounts they'd taken earlier that morning, then headed for the kitchen with Arthur's pair of rabbits. Stew, he rather thought, it sounded good for dinner.

"Who is that?"

He raised his head at the sharpness of the question. Morgana fairly stomped toward him down the corridor, regal in purple silk, her expression disturbed. He glanced over his shoulder as Sophia, sweet smile in place, followed Arthur down an intersecting hall toward the throne room. "Sophia Tirmawr," he answered the princess. "We rescued her in the woods. Their home was sacked by raiders, they're traveling through Camelot to Caerleon."

"She can't stay here," Morgana stated emphatically. As she drew closer, Merlin noticed that she was white as a sheet, her eyes dark.

"Uther always welcomes visiting nobility…" He ventured to say, "Is everything okay?"

She drew a deep breath, not looking at him, but staring down the now-empty hallway. "Yes, thank you," she said absently, and continued on without another look.

…..*…..

"You seem very fond of her," Morgana said, following Arthur into his room, her tone almost accusing.

"You make that sound like it's a bad thing," he tossed over his shoulder, unbuckling his belt and shrugging out of his jacket.

"Not necessarily," she said. "You've just – never fallen under a woman's spell before."

"Don't you start," he sighed, pouring himself a cup of water from the pitcher on the side table.

"She isn't what she seems," Morgana said. "I – had another dream, Arthur. A nightmare. I've talked to Gaius already, but –"

Arthur opened his mouth to ask her to explain, to give specifics. He knew what her dreams meant. But what came out was a loud guffaw. "Morgana! You care?"

Her eyes narrowed, her concern eclipsed by their sibling friction. "Less and less by the second," she shot back.

"All right," he said breezily. "Whatever you say."

"You're intolerable," she told him, flouncing to the door. "I just hope I'm wrong about her."

…..*…..

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" Gaius said to Merlin, as he seated himself at the old physician's worktable. "Three days in a row?"

"Arthur doesn't need me," Merlin said. "He's with Sophia again."

"Again?" Gaius said, surprised. "He already missed a patrol with his father and a knighting ceremony."

"He seems besotted with her," Merlin said, wistfully. "I suppose he wants to make the most of the time he has with her before she and her father leave Camelot."

"But they've only just met," Gaius said.

"Love at first sight?" Merlin said. He didn't think he was quite ready for Arthur to begin courting in earnest, it would mean a lot of changes in a place he'd only just begun considering his home. He wasn't sure how he felt about extending the loyalty he felt for Arthur to a wife, and what that might mean for their shared future.

"I suppose it might be," Gaius hesitated.

"What is it?"

"I fear that Sophia may not be all that she seems." Gaius watched him scoot forward on the bench, lean over his arms on the tabletop. "What do you know about seers?"

"Not much," Merlin said. "I'm not one, so the elders never bothered to teach me that branch of magic. They're supposed to see the future, like prophets."

"It's said to be an innate ability," Gaius told him. "Those who have it are born that way. Some aren't even aware that what they see is the future – it comes to them in their dreams."

Merlin shook his head, convinced they weren't discussing Sophia anymore. "You mean Morgana," he said. "The nightmares?"

Gaius nodded. "She dreams nightly, but most nights she wakes without a clear recollection of what she's seen beyond random or nonsensical images. I give her a sleeping draught to help with that. But once in a while, she remembers a dream even through the herbal sleeping aid, and those dreams almost always come to pass. If not always in the way it seems to her."

"What's this got to do with Sophia?"

"The night before she and Aulfric came to Camelot, Morgana had a dream and Sophia was in it. She said she dreamed that Sophia killed Arthur."

Merlin could sit still no longer. He pushed up from the bench and began to pace, from the window to the patient bed, from the bed to the cupboard of prepared mixtures. And back again. "Why didn't she tell me?" he said. "Resident sorcerer, and all that? Didn't she think I'd be able to help?"

"Morgana?" Gaius snorted at Merlin's short nod. "My boy, for all your superior height, you are still two years her junior. She may always view you as a younger brother in need of her care."

Merlin huffed and rolled his eyes. "Is she like me, then? Can she use magic?"

Gaius gave him a fond but gruff reminder, "No one's like you, Merlin. And for her sake, I hope this is the extent of her power."

"Why?" Merlin said.

"She is the princess of Camelot, Merlin. She is no more free to go to the Isle of the Priestesses to study magic than Arthur is."

"Shouldn't matter," Merlin said. "She can learn from you, can't she?"

Gaius shook his head in exasperation. "You don't truly understand how special you are, do you? It is not as simple or as easy as a few hasty lessons – and have you forgotten who her father is?" Merlin grimaced. "He'd have both our heads for even entertaining the thought of teaching his daughter magic. But you may be right about being the one to help," the old physician continued. "Aulfric caught me in Sophia's room yesterday, and in a flash of anger, his eyes changed color."

"Gold, like he was using magic?"

"No, red." Merlin stopped in his tracks and stared at his mentor. Gaius added, "It's not who they are that worries me. It's what they want with Arthur."

The door creaked open, and Morgana stood in the gap. "Arthur's requested an audience with Father," she told them; it didn't escape Merlin's attention that her eyes were on Gaius. "Something to do with Sophia and Aulfric."

"I'm sure it's nothing," Gaius said, in an attempt to be reassuring. He turned to Merlin, and Morgana followed his look.

Merlin shrugged his ignorance. "He's said nothing to me."

After a tense moment of silence, Gaius decided, "Let's go. We should hear what he has to say before we jump to conclusions."

…..*…..

Arthur twisted the wide silver ring he wore on his left forefinger. He stood alone in the center of the floor, courtiers and nobles lined on either side of the room. His love and her father were somewhere behind him, waiting expectantly. He knew this was his duty to accomplish, that it was important.

Uther finished reading the report he held and handed it off to Geoffrey as Morgana entered from a side door and took her place at the king's right hand, raising his eyes to grant his son permission to begin.

"I requested this audience, Father, to discuss a matter of great importance," Arthur said. "It cannot have escaped your attention that I and the Lady Sophia Tirmawr have grown very close."

"Not too close, I hope," his father said dismissively.

"We're in love," Arthur declared. "Which is why I come before you today to ask your permission to marry." He turned to give his love an encouraging smile – wasn't he fulfilling his promise to keep them together? Behind her, behind her father, he saw one face clearly out of the crowd. Merlin. His friend. Shocked, by his expression. Vaguely he wondered why that should be so, why Merlin's reaction should concern him, but was interrupted from the thought by his father's laughter. Arthur faced the throne again, putting Merlin behind him.

"I assume you're joking," Uther said.

"No. I'm going to marry her." He spoke firmly. Yes, that was something he was sure of. Another one was, "We're in love." Or had he already said that? Oh, well, it was something he couldn't repeat too often.

"In love?" Uther repeated. "We had no idea that you were such a romantic, had we, Morgana?"

His sister's attention seemed to be focused on the crowd behind him, also. "No, he's full of surprises."

Arthur stood, uncertain for a brief moment. Then he remembered the two things that were important, and said again, "I'm going to marry her." There, that should take care of that. He turned and made to leave, grabbing Sophia's hand to bring her along. He loved her, after all, and was going to marry her.

"Guards – door." The king's voice rang out, and the attendants at the open double doors promptly crossed their halberds. Arthur turned. The king added, "You've forgotten whose court you're standing in."

"You won't stop me," Arthur said stubbornly. "If I want to marry her, I will."

Morgana leaned over the arm of her seat to cup her hand around her mouth and whisper in their father's ear, glancing sharply at them. Uther's expression changed from irritation to calculated fury.

"Arrest Sophia and Aulfric Tirmawr," the king said in a voice dangerously quiet. "Inform the executioner that his services will be required tomorrow morning."

Arthur stood, once again uncertain of his response. He couldn't marry her if she was executed, of course, but… He looked at Merlin as if that young man might have a solution for his dilemma, but saw only a watchful darkness on his face.

"You can't do this," Aulfric said. "We are members of the nobility; we have committed no crime."

"No crime?" Uther said, shifting in his seat toward Morgana, whose weight remained on the arm of the chair between them. "It seems quite clear that you have enchanted my son, the crown prince of Camelot, in order to gain access to the throne."

Arthur felt an explosive rising of fury, swiftly and coolly checked through no volition of his own. Temper would accomplish nothing, if he loved Sophia and wanted to marry her. What he must do now was… Arthur bent his head subserviently to his father. You see – no enchantment. Just a hot-blooded young man carried away because he loves Sophia and wants to marry her, not to witness her execution…

Uther relented with a cool smile – whether he'd believed the suggestion or had merely used it, Arthur couldn't reason out. "Release them."

…..*…..

As Merlin made his way to Arthur's chamber, he felt faintly guilty for communicating the suggestion to Morgana across the courtroom, that of enchantment. It skated on the very edge of magic Uther had no doubt suspected him of, before. And in this case, he wasn't certain anything had actually been done to Arthur, to justify making that charge. But if it kept Arthur safe…

He was alarmed to see Arthur fitted in his chainmail and red tunic when he slipped into the room, shoving more clothing into a leather bag. For all the world like an adolescent packing to run away.

"Get out," Arthur snarled at him.

Merlin was torn. He hated taking the king's side against Arthur. If Sophia had been anyone else, if Arthur had been anyone else… "I thought the king was a bit harsh," he commented. Harsh, to order immediate execution simply on the suggestion – but probably, probably, Uther had simply manipulated the threat to gain the result that he wanted. Arthur's cooperation. But Merlin knew Arthur better than that – that was why he was here, now.

"I don't need sympathy, Merlin," Arthur said, "especially from you." He stuffed another shirt into his bag viciously, and brushed past Merlin.

"But I did think he had a point," Merlin ventured.

"I ordered you to get out!" Arthur glared at him sullenly. "Now leave me!"

Merlin was almost completely convinced. He took another step closer, trying to handle the situation with the delicacy required. While there was even a chance he could reach his Arthur… "I know you think you're in love with Sophia," he began.

"Who are you to tell me what I'm thinking?"

Merlin took another step. "I'm your friend," he said in a low voice, and Arthur stopped. For one hopeful heartbeat Merlin thought, that's done it, that's reached him. He added, very softly, "You don't know what you're doing. She's cast a spell on you, Arthur – you are enchanted." Without knowing what enchantment was used, he could spend hours trying to devise a counter-spell, hours he no longer had, evidently. But sometimes a victim could break free themselves, if a deep feeling or strong emotion could be evoked.

Arthur's eyes cleared. And Sophia's voice said from the doorway, "I told you people would try to keep us apart."

Just that fast, Arthur was lost to him again. "I know, I won't let that happen." He sounded half-asleep, or very young and simply repeating what he was told to say.

Merlin took a risk, turning his back on the two strangers, getting between them and Arthur to try – ye gods – one more time. "Don't listen to her, she's controlling you." It was a battle between them, that much was clear. Sophia held the control of the enchantment, but it was Merlin who'd formed the truer bond. He had to hope that Arthur could fight free of it somehow.

"We can elope together," Sophia said sweetly, a young girl thoughtlessly in love. "Get away from this place, these people." If Merlin hadn't heard her father promising Arthur's soul to a tiny sharp-toothed sidhe, he might have had doubts himself.

He rounded on Aulfric, still blocking Arthur from them with his own body. Perhaps if he distracted them, presented a threat, the girl might lose her focus long enough for Arthur to win free. "I saw you." Over his shoulder he said to Arthur, "I followed him. They're planning to sacrifice you."

Aulfric sneered. "And what do you know about sacrifice?"

"I know a bit," Merlin said narrowly. "I know what you're going to do. I followed you to the lake, and I heard everything." This time he turned his back deliberately. If Aulfric attacked him, it might serve to shake Arthur free of the spell-induced haze – some depth of feeling might be reached. "Please, believe me – you know what I'm saying is true."

Sophia said, "Don't listen to him, Arthur. Let's go, let's leave tonight." So innocently winsome, so goldenly beautiful, so promising.

"She's going to kill you," Merlin said desperately. "She doesn't care for you. She plans to sacrifice you to buy a life of immortality. If you go with her, you'll die."

Arthur shook his head slowly, in confusion, as if to clear it after a particularly hard knock on the training field. "It doesn't make sense," he said, and repeated, "We're in love."

"They're magical beings," Merlin said, almost sadly.

Stalemate could not last; he had to provoke one of the strangers into making a mistake, shocking something loose in the rigid tension of the room. He didn't suppose he could fight two such creatures in the small space of Arthur's room, not and protect Arthur also, but he'd give his life and gladly if it meant breaking that enchantment. And Arthur on guard, Arthur maybe avenging Merlin's death, would be one that would not fall to that spell again. He remembered suddenly something Gaius had mentioned.

"Look at the writing on the staff!" He grabbed for it, and Aulfric's eyes glowed red with offended fury. Merlin fell back by the prince's side. "Look at his eyes – look at him. Do you believe me now? Arthur, do you see?"

Arthur turned on him suddenly. "I see everything," he said in a low, dead voice, and his eyes gleamed red.

Damn. Merlin lunged, and Aulfric swung the staff into a lowered position, spitting the spell. Merlin's magic reacted instinctively, forming a shield over his heart, preventing the death that Aulfric intended – but his body was flung backward against the wall, and darkness descended.

How long it lasted he didn't know.

But when he opened his eyes, he saw the figure of his mentor swaying dizzily over him. "Merlin! What happened to you?"

"Aulfric?" he said thickly, an answer and a question both. His head was pounding, his back ached with even the thought of moving, but he straightened determinedly. "Where's Arthur? I have to go after him." He glanced up at Gaius, all his senses disoriented. "What's that buzzing noise?" It sounded as if a hive of bees had decided his head was hollow and had taken up residence.

Gaius passed a hand over the back of his head, and peered into his eyes. "You can't," he said, a purely medical conclusion. "Not in this state."

Merlin shrugged off the physician's hands and staggered to his feet, clutching his head between both hands as if it might be in danger of falling apart otherwise. "I have to go."

"Careful, Merlin, you can barely stand up." Gaius rose also, reaching to steady him, and paused, his hand on Merlin's chest over his heart. "I believe you owe it to your powers that you survived this at all," he added softly.

Merlin was impatient. Arthur was traveling further away by the minute. "I'll be fine," he said, trying to disentangle himself from the old man's care. "He needs me."

Gaius was persistent. "Has the buzzing stopped?"

"Yes."

The old physician growled his diagnosis, "Liar."

"Gaius, I have to go." Merlin gave his head a final rub and straightened his spine with a painful effort. "He'll die if I don't."

"The sidhe are a vicious people," Gaius warned him, finally dropping his hands. "You must be careful."

"Don't worry." Merlin attempted to grin, turning instinctively in the direction that led to Arthur. "I know what I'm doing."

"Merlin? This way."

He blinked and found himself at the window – no, of course he couldn't go through an upper-story window, not even if the shortest distance between him and Arthur was – "Just testing," he told Gaius, turning to dash to the door.

Merlin loved running. Stretching his legs, his muscles, his lungs, pushing himself harder and faster and longer, thinking only about the wind in his hair and the placement of his next step… Merlin used to love running.

It was dark, and his vision still tended to deceive him. And hells, he felt slow. If he was too late – if he was too late – His boot caught on a root and he crashed to the ground, blacking out in an instant of nauseating pain. He wished he could lie still, not have to move, not have to think or worry.

He scrambled up and sprinted on. It had been night when he'd followed Aulfric to the lake before, seen the opaque glow of the water's surface, slowed time to see the flitting lights take form and shape and marveled at the wonder of it. He rather sympathized with Aulfric's wish to return to such an existence, to provide an everlasting protection for the one he loved. Only… you didn't sacrifice another's life ever, unwilling, and for such a small selfish purpose.

He pounded on until his magic warned him he was close, the enchantment at its height. Aulfric was making no attempt to hide or disguise – his hands outstretched, his voice a bellowing echo of chanted spell.

The sidhe are vicious. You owe it to your powers that you survived at all. I promise you the soul of Arthur Pendragon.

Merlin's reluctance was overcome in seconds, only. "Onbregdan!" he called the staff at Aulfric's feet to his hand. The older man was startled, turned to face the threat with his own staff of power ready. Merlin almost missed catching the slender shaft of rune-carved wood, and leveled it too swiftly for thought. "Swilte, gold beorth!" he shouted. A twisted line of blue fire sprang forth from the crystal set in the end of the shaft, striking Aulfric into a thousand burning scraps that swiftly dissipated.

He made it three more steps as a feminine shriek sounded from the water. "Father – no! No!"

The sidhe are… survived at all… the soul of… Arthur was nowhere in sight. There was no choice. He pointed the staff again. "Acwele!" The result was the same - the beautiful girl, terrified and shocked and frantic at the violent death of her father, blasted apart in an instant.

Merlin sobbed, flinging the staff away, yanking off his jacket, and charging out into the water. "Arthur, Arthur!" he shouted. The viscosity of the lake pulled at his legs, he stumbled and fell in the water only knee-deep, his feet twisting on the stony bottom. Pushing forward to reach the place where Sophia had been, he filled his lungs and plunged down.

The water was cold, inimical – determined to keep its prize. By contrast, his body seemed afire, chest and head and eyes uncomfortably hot. His hands searched – oh so slowly! – damn that chainmail, it added ten pounds to Arthur's weight. He'd have gone straight to the bottom. Merlin surfaced, gasping for another lungful before kicking for the bottom again, kicking to keep himself down, frantically sweeping the murky depths for one touch of his friend, his prince. If he'd had to take clean air twice already, what must Arthur…

There. His fingertips brushed the smooth metal links that served to protect the young man's arm. He gripped for dear life, and pushed them both upward, clutching his friend's back against his chest, raising Arthur's face to the air.

…..*…..

Arthur woke in the forest. That wasn't strange, not at all. He had a vague assurance that he'd been in the forest when he'd fallen asleep. With Sophia. Not sleeping with Sophia, of course, but in the forest, and…

"Arthur?" It wasn't Sophia's voice, it was Merlin's. Soft and hoarse and actually quite close. That was wrong – he hadn't brought the younger man along on his outing with the girl he was in love with and wanted to m… no. What?

"What happened?" Arthur managed. "Where am I?" He rolled from his side to his back, feeling like those four bandits had got the best of him, after all. Like he'd been on a forced march, and then smothered. He coughed, and a headache bloomed red behind his eyelids.

"What do you – remember?" That breathless snag in his friend's voice caught Arthur's attention, and he turned his aching head.

Merlin was stretched full length beside him on the narrow rocky bank of a lake, his face resting right on the ground. His black hair was plastered wetly to his forehead, his eyes closed and circled in purple bruises. Arthur struggled up on his elbows. He was soaked, too, and dressed differently – not the comfortable, casual clothes he'd put on for a ramble in the woods with a girl he fancied, but full ceremonial crown prince regalia.

"There was a girl," he said. Mind and memory felt stupidly lethargic. "Sophia, she… I asked my father something about her, I asked him…" We're in love, I'm going to marry her. He bolted upright. "What was I thinking?"

"You weren't." Merlin coughed but made no other move. "Some… small consolation," he muttered. "You were enchanted to do her bidding. They were going to sacrifice you to the sidhe elders for permission to enter Avalon – which is quite beautiful, by the way."

"Sacrifice," Arthur said faintly. He looked around again. Sunlight filtered peacefully through the high leaf canopy overhead. Birds called and flitted, the breeze ruffled and dazzled the surface of the lake. They were alone, which meant… Merlin had stopped them. And saved him, again. "How come I'm wearing this?"

Merlin grunted. "Makes you look – or feel – more princely, maybe," he said. "I dunno. S'yer soul they were after."

Arthur shivered. But they hadn't gotten it – he wouldn't be sitting here alive, now, if they had, would he? "What happened to you?" he said. "Are you all right?"

Merlin didn't answer right away. Instead he shuffled his position on the damp pebbly sand, bringing his hands up to push himself off the ground a few inches, prop himself on his elbows. He ran his hand over the back of his head, inadvertently rubbing more sand into his hair. "Aulfric knocked me into a wall," he mumbled.

Arthur stared at him. Either he was embarrassed at such a small injury taking a powerful sorcerer by surprise, or he was greatly understating the truth. "And where was I?" Arthur demanded.

Merlin turned slightly to view him with one eye. "You were standing right there," he said mildly.

His heart sank. "I didn't – do anything to you, did I? I didn't – say anything?"

The younger man's smile was absolutely pure. "It's fine," he said. "You were enchanted."

Arthur groaned and sank back to the ground. The weather was warm enough that their soaked state was not too uncomfortable – the dragging weariness and pervasive soreness was foremost on his mind. "How long have we been here?" he asked distractedly.

"All night. Most of the morning."

"We should go back," Arthur said, making no move to force himself upright. "They'll think I eloped with Sophia, probably."

"Probably."

Arthur chuckled wryly. "Hells, my father will probably have both of us in the stocks for this."

Merlin grunted, and wheezed, "Not today, please, Arthur? Not today…"

"No." Arthur tucked one arm under his head as Merlin moved a stone out from under his ribs and laid his head down again. The sunlight touched them gently, lulled them. He yawned. "No, today we rest."