Arthur

I had to repeatedly stop myself from sharing bored looks with Merlin during the council meeting early this morning. Every time I looked, my manservant wasn't there.

I haven't heard anything about Merlin since he left, but I force myself to take that as a good thing. I don't doubt that Gwaine left with him. Percival, Elyan, and Leon haven't quite been meeting my eyes, which leads me to believe they had something to do with it as well. Gwen refuses to talk to me.

I've hardly gotten any sleep in the past couple of days. There's something completely unrelaxing about sleeping beside your wife when you can practically feel the anger radiating off of her. Not to mention I had a particularly bad dream involving something to do with Merlin being on fire. He was in some village and...I couldn't make out everything, nor did I want to. It was already awful enough to feel the agony of the flames myself before jolting awake.

Even the worst swordsman among the knights was able to easily disarm me during training today. I was too busy remembering attempting - and failing - to teach Merlin how to parry an opponent.

Thinking of my friend hurts too much. The idiot became like a younger brother to me over the years. And now I'm the fool, sentencing him to death for something he said he was born with. Anger at myself and my mistakes burns inside of me, and I suddenly have the urge to throw something. Unfortunately my throne is far too heavy, so I continue searching until my hands find the crown on my head. Merlin told me it makes my head look like a melon, which at the time of course I resented. He had to muck out the stables for that comment.

With an angry cry, I hurl the jeweled gold to the floor a little distance away. Collapsing into my throne, I cover my face with my hands, wishing the world away as the fury inside of me turns to an actual pain in my chest. I feel as if I can barely move, the guilt is pressing on me so hard.

A skinny servant scurries into the throne room, and I look up at his hesitant cough. As the large doors are hurriedly closed, I see two other servants attempting to hide. Another pang of guilt stabs my heart. My mood is not only affecting me, but also scaring others in the castle.

"What is it, Josef?" I ask, trying to keep the weariness from entering my voice. I'm not sure how convincing it was.

The servant seems to perk up a bit that I remembered his name, and plucks up the courage to look me in the eyes, if only slightly. "Sire," he begins, voice quavering a bit. "There is a young man who has come to request an audience with you."

"Merlin?" I ask, heartbeat quickening as I rise to my feet.

The servant's face falls. "N-no, Sire. He says his name is Asher of Florin."

My hope falls again, and I nod slowly. "Send him in, then."

Josef nods quickly before turning and practically running from the large room. I go to fetch my crown, checking it over momentarily to ensure I didn't do any real damage, and return to my throne. A moment later a village man enters alongside one of the guards.

"King Arthur, Sire," Asher bows deeply, head bent in reverence.

"Rise," I say offhandedly, just wanting him to get on with it so I can be left alone again. "What is it that you wanted to tell me?"

"There has been an attack on the village of Florin, your Majesty," Asher says quickly, eyes glinting in anger. "A sorcerer set it ablaze late last night."

At the word 'sorcerer', I feel my world crash around me. It's not Merlin. He wouldn't do that. Don't jump to conclusions, you Clotpole.

Asher continues, desperation and anger fueling him on. "He had a companion with him as well, who was trying to convince us that it was some sort of accident. He ran with the sorcerer when we wanted to finish the scum off -"

"Finish him off?" I ask hurriedly, rising in my seat. "Who, the...Sorcerer? Was he injured?"

"Yes," the man says excitedly, and my stomach does a somersault. "He used giant wolves to help spread the fire, setting them ablaze and letting them run crazily. He got a painful shock when one of them ran into him!"

My dream comes back to my mind. Merlin screaming in pain while I felt it all. The flames surrounding me. The screams in the village all round...

"What is his name? What does he look like?"

"Tall with jet black hair. Looked like a pale twig rather than a man of any good making - but what can you expect from a no good -"

"What is his name?" I ask loudly, jumping to my feet and staring down at the townsman. Asher cowers a bit, but answers the question all the same. I wholeheartedly wish he hadn't.

"His friend called him Merlin."

I fall back in my throne, hands finding my face again as I bow my head. There is utter silence for a long time. "Are you absolutely sure that it was not an accident on his part?"

"He set the whole village ablaze! Four villagers died that night and six more are severely injured!"

"But Merlin would not do any of that on purpose!" I counter loudly.

Asher takes a step back, eyes widening. "You...You know the scum?"

"He is - was...My manservant."

Anger seems to boil over the surface inside of the man before me. "That man is a murderer and a sorcerer! Magic is outlawed, or have you forgotten?"

"You will not speak to the King that way!" The guard in the room speaks for the first time, grabbing Asher's arm before the man forces it from his grasp.

"I'm sorry; I did not realize the King of Camelot was such a fool."

"I didn't either..." I say, the weariness catching up to me all over again.

"You must see for yourself, Sire," Asher spits my title out as if it is a filthy insult. Maybe it is. "You have a duty to your kingdom. Florin has always followed the laws of Camelot and served under its reign faithfully. Your people deserve justice against their enemies!"

"I'll ride with you to Florin in an hour," I respond finally. "I cannot promise what the outcome will be...But...I will go."