A/N : Wow, you guys, thank you so much for the reviews I've received on the last chapter... And - hehe - I'm so sorry, apparently I DID end with a cliffy the last time... but what can I say, I thought it was considerably less cliffy than the one before that, so I didn't think it would fall under the same category. And well, I know there's a lot of suspense in this story sometimes, so I guess it comes with the turf.

Anyway, please let me know what you think of this chapter? Because you're the best readers a gal could hope for when you do! (hey, that was a different line, yay! Next time, I'll bribe you with virtual cookies - wink - )

Xo, as always!


Arthur

His eyes fluttered open at the sound of someone entering, and when his vision had cleared from sleep, he could distinguish Gwen lingering near the door, her back resting against it. "Any change?"

He shook his head, wishing he were able to give her another answer. Every time she had asked, he had been the one to deliver the bad news, and though she should have gotten used to it by now, he could still see the heartbreak on her face. "No. My father has come to renew his threat, but still…nothing has changed since last night."

"I've found something," she whispered, afraid that even the walls would have grown ears and that every spoken syllable could be discovered. She moved into the direction of his dining table and set down the heavy book she had been clutching, thankful to be delivered from the burden. Arthur cast a glance at Merlin before joining her, leaning over her shoulder to read the words she pointed out to him. "Ulrich was his mother's maiden name," she explained, turning her head to look him in the eye. "His parents were executed for the use of dark sorcery years ago, but no one ever knew what happened to him." She quivered. "It's him, Arthur – he's the one doing all this."

Breaking the gaze, Arthur sighed. He nodded once, decidedly, and turned away. "Aren't you going to do something about it?"

"I wish I could." He placed his forehead against the window, thankful for the cold air, for it made him feel collected and poised. It made the crop of emotion sink back to where it had come from. "But there's nothing I can do."

"You're the prince, you can do anything!" She urged him. "You can make sure everyone knows it's him who did this to Merlin.. the one who's trying to bring you down, as well!" Her chest was rising and falling in a hurried rhythm, her excitement and desperation too great to hold inside.

"Like I did when Valiant used magic to slay the knights?" He shook his head. "Look how that turned out." You humiliated me! The images were there again, in every cell of his being, the way they usually were. Now that Merlin was ill, his own flaw of not being able to forget was more apparent than ever. Every time they had fought. Every time he had ever doubted his friend. He hated it. I need a servant I can trust. – You CAN trust me!

"We're powerless without any proof." His cold fingers travelled across his face, trying to hide it from her sight. He didn't like not being in control, not being able to bend reality his way and save the world or fix it.

"So you're willing to let Merlin die before you show him for what he truly is?" Her voice had risen, and he didn't know if it was because she was angry with him, or because she felt just as inadequate as he did. "He's our friend, Arthur." She exclaimed. "We need to do this for him."

"Listen," he snapped, "I want him to wake up as much as you do. But if we don't have any proof, there is no way out!"

Gwen broke out in a smile. "I know you do." Noticing the circles under his eyes, the weak light of the lamp on the bedside table finally revealing them to her, she walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You need to get some rest, Arthur. Remember that he felt you were in danger, as well."

"I knew he was in danger." It was a broken whisper to leave his mouth, his lips moving apart only slightly. "I should have looked out for him better. It's my fault he's like this."

Gwen laughed softly. "Sometimes, you can be a real idiot, Arthur Pendragon." He turned to her, and she raised her eyebrows to accentuate her statement, little lights dancing in her own teasing eyes. "You couldn't have prevented this – he would have found a way to do this anyway. Unless you wanted to guard Merlin all the time, day and night – sitting beside his bed like a puppy. We both know that was out of the question."

He exhaled heavily, his body shaking with the movement. Her hand followed it, but noticing that fact, she carefully withdrew it. Instead, she reached for the damp cloth to ease Merlin's fever. "Hi," she whispered to him. "We're getting you out of this mess."

-

Leaving Gwen to tend to Merlin, Arthur ventured down to the caves again, his fingernails digging into the torch he held. The wooden stick resisted his grip, and met it with stubborn solidness. It felt good somehow, the little pain shooting through his hand.

"You need to tell me what to do." He screamed into the silence. "There HAS to be something I can do!"

The dragon landed in front of him, no less majestic than the time before, but this time there was a sadness all around him, and Arthur had a feeling that didn't bode too well for them. "Our prince has returned," the dragon greeted him. ".. in times when the darkness closes in on us, pressing our backs against the wall."

He bent his head, blowing out a large breath. "I'm afraid there's little we can do for him," he said, "but wait by his side. Whatever the dark lord planned for him is not yet finished."

"I'm trying." Arthur defended himself. "My father…"

"Your father is many things, one of them unreasonable when it comes to magic. You must never let him find out about the true nature of your servant," the dragon warned him. "For I fear that if you do, both your and Merlin's destiny alike will change in unthinkable ways."

As if he had been thinking about telling his father. Really. "It's not that –" he continued. "My presence is demanded at dinner this evening, he won't listen to my pleas of staying behind to guard Merlin."

"He must not be left alone," His eyes spoke of knowledge, the knowledge that something would happen if Merlin was left unguarded. "But you must also watch out for your own, young Pendragon. Lord Ulrich and his protegé will not stop until they have accomplished what they came here to do."

His face fell. So his cousin was really in on it, as well. Everything that had happened between them in the last few days, all the laughs and talks and jokes, had been a lie. Sensing his distress, the magical creature continued his prognosis. "Grady Dumare has lived an unfortunate life, making him bitter and conceited, a slave to his own desires. Your relation to him means nothing in his eyes, yet it means everything."

Arthur sighed, annoyed. "I thought you'd finally stopped with the riddles."

A low laugh rumbled through the emptiness. "You'll see what I mean shortly enough, Arthur Pendragon. Until then, you must beware. Your lives depend on it."

-

Grady

Grady Dumare sat on his bed, the pillow propped up behind his back so he could rest easily, and looked up when his guardian entered, the dark cloak flowing behind. "Tonight." The man said, and excitement welled up inside the young boy.

"Have you arranged everything, then?" At Ulrich's soft nod, his smile started to spread. "Well, great! And the prince?"

"He will be joining us for supper." Ulrich reassured him. "Our good friend Uther made sure of that."

"Once there," he continued, "you must make sure he eats, for I will be in my chamber, taken ill." His lips curled upwards in a thin, bitter smile. "When this day is over, we will reign, my child. The true kings of Camelot will rise again."

-

Grady walked to the great hall, his step light and happy. His expression changed abruptly when he ran into Arthur, looking distrought. He had to admit that for a moment, he had been scared for his cousin when he had doubled over in pain back in the woods – if Arthur had died back then, their plan would have to be altered, and if there was anything the young Dumare couldn't deal with, it was the changing of well prepared plans. It made him panicky and scared.

"Arthur," he greeted his cousin, trying to sound a sympathetic as he possibly could. "How's Merlin doing?"

Arthur's brow furrowed in confusion, as if the comment had pulled him out of some sort of daze. So it was true, then : Arthur cared for his servant a great deal, and the fact that he was ill ate away at him. Grady cared little for either of them.

"Still no change," Arthur replied calmly, the answer broken up by the raspy sound of his voice. He cleared his throat. "But we expect him to recover soon." He said, his spirit combative. Arthur was fighting his own mind, Grady supposed, keeping his hopes up.

He placed a hand on the other man's lower arm. "I hope so, Arthur. I'll be praying for him."

Arthur

He was disgusted by the way his relative was acting : trying to bring them down and then actually having the nerve to pretend as if he cared. He felt the need to push the lower arm his cousin was currently touching, against the man's throat, holding him captive against the wall and demanding his guardian cured Merlin.

But he couldn't. He was reminded of Merlin's advice to keep a low profile and not to let the enemy know that he was on to something, for it would only endanger him even further. So he smiled at his cousin, muttered a soft thanks and continued towards his own chambers, where a solemn Gwen was waiting for him. "Still nothing," she sighed, her hand firmly in Merlin's, trying to keep him close.

"I know," Arthur said to her. "And I'm afraid it might get worse before it gets better. Someone needs to be here at all times, Gwen - it's not yet over for him." He sat down beside her, then mockingly raised his finger, as if he only now thought of it. "Oh, and apparently my cousin is the enemy, too."

"I'm sorry, Arthur. I know you wished for him not to be involved in this." Gwen spoke softly. Through everything that had happened to Merlin, the bond between them had seemed to grown stronger, and he now considered her a friend. Besides, she was like Merlin, in a way : not afraid to call him on it when he was being wrong, while still treading carefully.

He smiled and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Thank you. You should get back to your chores," he reprimanded her playfully, his eyes widening, "we'll need you to look after him in the future, but for now I can do it."

-

"So, I went to see your uncle again." He took a breath, hoping he wasn't futily talking to himself out here, and when his other servant walked in, he fell completely silent, apart from thanking the boy for the water he had brought.

"…and anyway, he said it's not over yet, so we've still got to be careful." He drew his chair closer to the bed and leaned his arms on the mattress, his fingers inches away from the almost motionless body. "You were right," he continued softly. "Grady isn't to be trusted." And I'm sorry I ever doubted you. His head fell, his chin bouncing against his collarbone.

"Damn it, Merlin – can't you just give me anything? This time, you're the one being a prat, leaving me stranded like this." He chuckled for a moment, raising his gaze again, staring at Merlin's eyes, hoping they would magically open. "Is there anything I can do?"

"A-thur.." The broken sound seemingly came out of nowhere, and he hadn't even seen his friend's lips move, yet there was no way that the voice had been anyone else's.

He held his breath, afraid that he might have imagined it. "Merlin?" he questioned, gripping his fingers for the first time since Merlin had fallen in the forest. "Merlin, if you can hear me, squeeze my hand."

-

Gaius entered the room a while later, and when he saw the small smile around Arthur's lips, a heavy pressure came to rest apon his heart. The one thing he couldn't afford right now was getting his hopes up and in the end losing Merlin anyway. The world spun on its axis when the prince told him that Merlin had actually said his name.

"It was only for a split second, but it swear to you that I didn't just imagine it." Arthur exclaimed, beaming. "He can hear us, Gaius."

"Merlin, is that true?" Walking over to where his foster son was laying, Gaius wiped his brow and clutched his hand. "Can you hear me?"

Arthur smirked. "I've tried that as well, but the stubborn idiot just won't squeeze, isn't that right, Merlin?" He drawled the name slowly, poking fun at his unconscious friend.

He rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, Gaius. He's getting there, I can tell. But you must stay with him for a while, because.." he stood, retrieving his dirty jacket from the floor, and put it on. He shivered. The jacket hadn't been cleaned since yesterday, and the dried up stains of blood made him cringe. He hurriedly changed to a different one and gave the old man one last smile. "It's time for dinner. Don't let anyone but you and Gwen near him. He needs us."

-

His hunger had subsided the minute he entered the great hall, where he was seated across from his cousin, who was happily chatting with his father, as if there was nothing wrong, nothing at all.

"For heaven's sake, Arthur, if you don't cheer up I will have the edges of your mouth tied to a chord and have someone yank it." His father warned him. Great, as if there weren't enough phonies around this table, now he would have to join their little club.

"Of course, father," he amended, plastering a fake smile on his face and ignoring the encouraging wink from Grady.

"Grady," he questioned, "where might your guardian be this evening?"

His father interrupted him, throwing him a look that suggested he was being rude by posing the question so abruptly, and with such a hard demeanor. "Lord Ulrich sent his formal apologies, he wasn't feeling too well."

"Oh," Arthur said sympathetically. "Well, we'll be praying for him, too."


So? What did you think? pleaaaaase tell meeeeeeh!

Xo, as always!