A/N: I hate Morgana. Hate her.HOW CAN SHE LIE TO THAT FACE? Merlin's scared/happy/oh-gosh-please-don't-kill-me face is the cutest thing I've ever seen. I could barely look at her, I was so mad. So, yeah, I wish there were more of that Merlin is this chapter, but there wasn't a chance. Here we go! Vegetables, catch the reference to last chapter? And Mrs. Bonner, I think you'll like this character because of his connection to Ashby.

"Check for survivors."

I looked around the field with a sinking feeling in my stomach. Survivors? I didn't think so. The entire grassy field was covered with red— both from blood and from the red cloak of Camelot's knights, as well as our flags still plunged into the ground. But I followed Prince Arthur's orders, coming forward slowly.

I saw Ashby beside me, his face in the expression I've come to recognize as "I'm trying not to care." Other knights and guards from our patrol also started towards the slaughter, peering at faces and wounds, looking for signs of breathing.

I had never been afraid of death, not really. As a young child I was nearly killed by a fever, and I remember feeling no particular fear as I approached the border into whatever came next. Later, I wondered if my fever-self knew best. And again, a few years later, I was nearly crushed by a wagon with a runaway horse. I wasn't all that crazy about the pain, but death again hadn't seemed all that scary… Just a little uncertain and vaguely interesting. So no, I'd never feared death. But that was my life perhaps ending—it was a lot worse when it was someone I loved. Death has a tendency to hurt everyone but the one it is affecting, maybe.

I knelt on the ground, the sinking feeling only increasing. What if I knew the man I checked on?

The blood-covered man was a stranger. He was dead. Closing my eyes, I breathed a quick prayer and moved onto the next one. Looking up, I saw the other men doing the same, and Ashby closing his eyes briefly.

I looked down towards his feet.

The dead man there was his cousin.

Oh, Ashby. The poor man. When I first met Ashby, about a year ago, the cold man wouldn't have been as affected by the death of a relative he barely spoke to, but recently… Well, that had to hurt. But Ashby picked himself up and moved on, and so did I, pretending not to notice the wetness in his eyes.

"No man is worth your tears." I'd heard Prince Arthur say that to his knights, but I thought it was a lie, because I'd lost a father and brother. I'd cried.

The next man was dead too. Peter, that was his name. Quite the jokester among the guards.

After that, I didn't look at their faces any more.

At last I heard Prince Arthur speak, acknowledging that they were all dead. "Seems their attackers are headed north. Come on."

He got up and started to walk away (no tears there), when his manservant called out to him. "Do you think we should be going after them?"

Arthur turned around and looked at him with some disgust. "You are such a girl's petticoat."

I looked around at all the dead man, strangers and friends, and I couldn't help but wish Prince Arthur wouldn't joke around right now.

As we walked back towards the horses, I found Ashby beside me. "You alright?" I asked.

"Of course," he told me, pretending that he didn't understand what I meant. Or maybe he actually didn't. His eyes were dry.


"Ow."

Merlin was complaining again. Same as usual. I kept walking, on foot just a little ahead of the manservant.

"What is wrong with you?" asked Arthur, but not as if he really cared. More as if he was just looking for something to say.

"Well, I've been on a horse all day."

"Is your little bottom sore?"

"Yes.It's not as fat as yours."

I bit back a smile, trying to keep a straight face. I think I was actually pretty successful. I had been training myself to copy Ashby's expressions, finding it rather useful.

Arthur laughed. "You know, you've got a lot of nerve… for a wimp."

Prince and manservant were always digging at each other. No one in our group even raised eyebrows; we were so used to it. I'd heard people wonder why Arthur didn't fire Merlin, since he obviously found the man so annoying. But they reminded me of my twin brothers growing up: always fighting and irritating each other, but only because they really cared about each other deep down. Sometimes our Mother doubted it, saying that they must hate each other.

But I saw Harold's face when his twin passed away, and I knew better.

I shook away the thought and listened to the squabbling boys again.

"Well, I may be a wimp, but at least I'm not a… dollop head."

"There's no such word," said Arthur, his eyes still on the road before him. I think that was to keep a straight face.

"It's idiomatic."

"It's what?"

"You need to be more in touch with the people…"

Arthur rolled his eyes, but I personally couldn't help cheering for Merlin in my head. It was always nice when Merlin won, and I felt he was going to. "Describe dollop head."

"In two words?"

"Yeah."

"Uh, Prince Arthur."

Merlin won. Just when I thought I couldn't keep the snort in, Arthur pulled up short and lifted a hand, halting all conversation. There was a camp ahead of us. I felt my limbs tensing, preparing for anything as Arthur slipped off his horse and drew his sword. The rest of us followed his lead (with the exception of Merlin, naturally).

We approached the camp slowly, swords out, watching for any sign of life or danger. Arthur crouched near the ground, making hand signals. The knights were near the front; the guards, the back. Merlin stood right in the middle, not crouched over. His knees weren't even bent. I wanted to tell him to duck before he got hurt…

…But at that moment, there was the sound an arrow whistling through the air, and with a strangled scream, one of the knights fell forward. There was an arrow in his back.

My eyes widened and I looked back up as a battle cry filled the air, and we were under attack.


I opened the door, removing my helmet with a sigh, feeling my shoulders slump with exhaustion.

"Daddy! Daddy!"

I shut the door behind me, smiling as the sound of little feet slapping against wood reached by ears. Suzanne barreled through our small one-room house, separated into two, reaching the front room and spotting me. Her blue eyes lit up.

"Daddy!" she screamed again, launching herself at me.

"Hello, sweetie," I said with a smile, picking her up and kissing her cheek. She giggled when my sandy beard brushed her cheek.

"Willard?" Amanda turned around, looking like an older version of her daughter, smiling at me. "It's good to have you home!" She came forwards and gave me a kiss, standing on the tips of her toes.

I nodded at my short wife. "I didn't get a chance to send word ahead; we came back early."

"You mean…?"

"Yes, we found the Lady Morgana!" I laughed, giving Suzie a twirl so I could hear her laugh again.

Amanda pressed her hand to her chest, closing her eyes. "Oh, thank God," she breathed in real prayer. "I thought the deaths would never stop." She opened those blue eyes again, smiling at me so widely that I thought it must hurt. "Now you can stay home more!"

"Indeed," I agreed, putting Suzie down, though she protested. "Oh, honey, Ashby's coming over for dinner tonight. Is that fine by you?"

She sighed, a little annoyed. "I'll see if we can stretch it."

"Come on, don't be cross," I teased, pulling her into a hug. "You can't blame him for liking your cooking."

"That man needs a wife!"

"Maybe he's just having trouble finding a woman great enough. I took the last one."

She paused. "Alright, you manipulative thing. Have your friend for dinner."

"Thank you, he needs it. He's having one of those weeks when the bloodshed makes him regret ever being a guard of Camelot."

She gave me an understanding look and went back to her cooking. I sighed and sat on our bed, pulling Suzie back into my arms, my grin fading from my face. To tell the truth, after seeing Peter and Ashby's cousin, I was having one of those weeks too.

I remembered a time, not too long ago, when Ashby on one of his bad days turned to me with that defeated look in his eyes.

"It's all killing," he said, his eyes darker than usual. "It's all killing and no one's happy. It's like…" He lowered his voice and I got the impression that he'd never told anyone this before. "Like it's all falling apart."

"No," I said after a moment. "You can't think of it like that. I always thought… as a guard, you can help people who need it. Protect the people, even if you aren't nobility and can't be a knight."

He didn't say anything else and never spoke of it again, but I could tell Ashby thought about it. I think he even believed it sometimes, because I saw his face flash between pride in himself and outrage as he told me how he saved a young girl from being taken advantage of by a guard, one of our own.

I knew I had been right, but I agreed with Ashby that sometimes it was hard to see the bright side.


Sentry duty. Not so bad, really, though it was a bit boring. Still, with everything that had been going on lately – the king seeming to lose his mind, the Lady Morgana coming back, getting attacked on the trip not too long ago – boring wasn't so bad. It was a chance just to walk around a bit and enjoy the night air, even if I had to keep my eyes peeled for trouble while I did it.

I looked at the grooved wall as I walked across the castle wall, wishing distantly that I didn't have chainmail on so that I could scratch that horrible itch on my back. Amanda had promised to save my dinner for me to eat, but it would probably be morning by the time I got home. I hoped she would understand, and then decided to think of something else. I promised to take Suzie to market tomorrow, and maybe let her pick out something small. She always liked that.

Smiling, I kept walking, and didn't notice that I was near Lady Morgana until she almost ran into me.

"Lady Morgana?"

She had been walking in the opposite direction as me, wearing a bright red dress and cloak, her dark hair down. I wasn't a great deal older than her, but old enough to remember her when she first came to Camelot. Morgana had always been a pretty child, and was now a beautiful woman. Uther would probably marry her off soon… Or he would've. After the kidnapping, he may have decided to keep her close.

She gave me a bright, slightly fake looking smile. "I was just taking a stroll."

A stroll? I felt my eyebrows draw together. Why did that strike me as odd? Maybe I just assumed that, after everything that had happened to her in the past year, she would want to stay inside more. Yes, that would be it.

A strange dripping sound reached my ears, and after a second I looked down. "What's that, my lady?"

"Nothing."

A dark liquid, hard to see in the night, dripped onto the ground next to her, falling from her arm. Concern awoke in me.

"Y-you're bleeding."

She froze up, looking nervous for a second before she tried to blow it off and brush past me. "It's fine, really, it's…"

I stopped her from going. If she was hurt, she needed help, no matter what she thought. Wondering what accident she's been in, I stepped in front of her to block her. "You're wounded!" I insisted, reaching forward and pushing aside her cloak so that I could see the injury.

I caught a glance of something in her hand, brown and dripping… What was that—?

Pain. Sudden pain ripping through my abdomen, taking me by such surprise that my mouth fell open, and I was suddenly reminded that chainmail is little good against a weapon at extremely short range. What happened? What hit me?

I stumbled backwards, feeling gravity pulling down on my body and wondering why I couldn't hold myself up.

Pain, pain, oh my this hurts what happened oh Amanda Amanda pain rip hurts… painpainpain.

I saw Morgana smiling strangely, and it felt so off… It didn't make sense… Why was she smiling? What was going on anyway?

Suddenly gravity got a lot rougher with me, and my head didn't seem to be facing the right direction anymore. Why was I upside down?

I hit the ground and only then did it occur to me that I had fallen off the wall. Hitting the grass hurt, too, but there still seemed to be shock and pain waves radiating from where some weapon had hit my chainmail, and I felt my fingers curling around the blade in my middle.

Why did Morgana do that?

Was I dying? Was that blood on my hands? My head throbbed where it hit the ground, and I could feel blackness rising up, but before I went I had just one thought. What's Amanda going to think when I don't come home?

Then I was gone, but still I felt time passing, and I realized I wasn't quite dead because I still hurt in a detached way. That didn't seem fair, but I wasn't sure why.

Time passed.

Time still passed.

I felt sun on my face.

And then suddenly I heard voices, and knew I'd been found. Was that Leon, perhaps? Someone was touching me now. I could've sworn I heard Ashby's voice, just for a moment, whispering, "It's going to be okay, Willard. It's going to be alright."

I was put down again and then was once more aware of nothing but time.

At one point, I knew I was coming back up out of the darkness and endless time that had enveloped me… I thought I heard someone moving, and I was warm. Like being in bed. But there was no Amanda beside me.

And then I felt something wet on my tongue going down into my throat. I swallowed it instinctively.

Then a little more time passed, just a bit more, and I felt all my body and muscles seem to tighten, seize up. I was floating away.

I had an idea that I knew what was going on, but I wasn't sure why. After a second, I decided that I didn't need to know and might as well go now. As I had when I was young, I went to go meet death without fear. But this time it accepted me and I didn't go back.


A/N: Okay, the characters need to stop dying on me. Really. If this show would stop killing people! See you all soon, please review and tell me what you think of Willard. I rather like him myself :) But I'm mad at Morgana for killing him! REVIEW!