"We haven't got enough wood on hand!" Percival yelled to Arthur, who had his torch raised as he ran towards the forest. Harry was in close pursuit and Merlin had jumped up to follow.

"Just come on!"

The knights followed reluctantly, wanting to save Hermione but aware firewood supply was short. The forest was dense, but Arthur had reached Hermione in minutes, and she was sitting on the ground in an uncomfortable position, trembling and her cheeks wet in the light of the flames.

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked as he kneeled near her, determined to make sure she wasn't injured and to forget about their row. Hermione was so shaken, she could hardly utter a syllable. Merlin and Harry quickly caught up and kneeled along with Arthur, chests heaving as they squinted in the dark to look for any serious injuries. After determining she had no hurt her legs, Arthur wrapped an arm around her torso and heaved her onto her feet. She swayed slightly but steadied herself. The other knights had arrived and stood around, listening intently for any Dorocha that hoped to take them off guard in this moment.

"You're bleeding a little here, but do you hurt anywhere else?" Merlin inquired as Arthur held up the torch for him to examine her, noting the slight gash on the side of her head near her temple.

"No, it's just my head," Hermione finally choked out, gripping onto Merlin's arm with all of her strength in fear of her knees buckling underneath her. "I left my torch behind, but when I realized it the Dorocha had already- already come. I jumped to the side and hit the side of my head on a tree root."

She rubbed her head near the wound with a wince, unaware of the leaves that had stuck to her hair and the dirt that streaked her right cheek.

"Let's get back before more decide to show up," Arthur said in a gentle voice, gripping the crook of her free elbow carefully and leading her back with Merlin. She was glancing around fearfully, as if they might return any second, but her movements were a bit slow. The blow to her head had made her a little sluggish.

"I won't let them hurt you," Arthur promised her again.

The witch then recalled how only minutes before they'd had a horrible argument. But she didn't want to think of it anymore. She had tried to stay mad when she reached the forest, but couldn't because it was a waste of her energy and she'd already used up most of that by spewing her anger at Arthur. After telling him all that was on her mind, she'd felt strangely lighter. Getting it off her chest had helped a lot, as terrible as being in a row with Arthur also made her feel. The group made it back to their camp where wood was added to the dimming fire.

Merlin quickly attended to the wound on Hermione's head, pulling out supplies he had packed to clean the blood, disinfect the injury, and place a little bandage over it.

"She needs some rest to heal, she's far too sluggish right now to do much else," Merlin informed Arthur as he placed a blanket around the shoulders of the somewhat dazed Hermione, glancing at the king with obvious concern.

"I'll help her go lie down," Harry offered, already rising from a log.

"No," Arthur stopped him, bolting up from his spot. Hermione was getting drowsy, but she was still listening with what little focused consciousness she had left. She wondered why Arthur didn't just hand her over to Harry. She was the least of his worries.

"It's... well, it's my fault she's hurt, so I should at least be the one to help her," Arthur explained, covering up his earnest with valiance. Harry's eyes narrowed, suspicious of the man who had just brought his friend to tears, before he reluctantly nodded. Of course, he glanced Hermione's way at the same time, waiting to see if she would object.

She did not.

Arthur bowed his head quickly and wrapped his arm around Hermione's small frame, lifting her from her seat and leading her to an area a few feet away. She blinked rancorously as he sat her down on the ground lightly, watching somewhat dizzily as he untied the mat from her baggage tied to Milly and spread it on the ground neatly.

"Why are you doing this?" Hermione murmured, blinking to focus a little better on him.

"Doing what?" Arthur asked, looking up at her from his work. His blue eyes examined her face, looking for one answer for too many questions. Her expression was so solemn, so relaxed, yet drowsily suspicious.

"Helping me," Hermione continued much more softly, frowning as a pang ran through her skull. "Wouldn't you rather the Dorocha would have gotten me and I'd be gone? You wouldn't have to deal with me any longer. Me and my stubborn self."

Arthur took a seat in front of her on the ground, her eyes attempting, rather poorly, to follow his every move.

"I wouldn't wish that upon anyone, especially not you," Arthur answered honestly. He was shocked to see tears dripping down her face. She didn't even bother to wipe them away.

"Why not?" she asked in a thick, almost hysterical voice. "You hate me anyway. All I do is make things worse between us. I fight and I say things to you, rude things. All these emotions just get jumbled up inside of me when I'm around you, and I don't know what to do because everything's different now. You're different. I'm different."

Arthur listened, sort of surprised to be hearing all this. All of it had been held inside her, pent-up and stowed away. While she had certainly said her part earlier, it hadn't been this vulnerable, this sincere. This was what she really felt, wasn't it?

"I didn't regret leaving before to help my friends, but sometimes I wish I hadn't messed everything up. What happened, Arthur? I told you to move on and become King, but it hurts knowing that you actually listened to me. I can't be here and see you everyday, knowing that it's all changed."

Hermione simply cried, partially from the pain in her head and from the pain in her heart. She hadn't meant to appear so vulnerable before him after looking so tough before, but she was in too drowsy and upset a state to care. Arthur had seen her vulnerable before, what did it matter now?

Arthur gazed at Hermione sadly. Her nose was pink from cold, her cheek streaked with that dirt, her eyes glistening, and her hair reminiscent of a haystack. But she couldn't be more beautiful to him, and yet so out of reach, despite their close proximity. It hurt him to see her this way, it had always hurt him. He wanted her to be smiling like she'd been earlier. He wanted her to be happy. Hermione was wiping her cheeks, her head getting even foggier because of how much she was crying.

In a split second decision, Arthur's lips were on hers.

The kiss was over before it even began. Hermione didn't even have time to respond. It woke her up like getting pinched on the arm. Only, it didn't bring her pain like a pinch. It brought her a warm, fluttery feeling in her gut.

"I don't hate you. I never could."

Before she could do or say anything, Arthur had gotten up and returned to the blazing fire. Hermione brought her cold, numb fingers to her lips and touched them. She laid herself down on the mat, threw the blankets over herself, and stared at the stars above.

She hadn't felt the touch of Arthur's lips on hers in so long- and she had missed it more than she'd let herself believe.

Arthur felt so guilty, but at the same time he was completely satisfied. He felt guilty for kissing Hermione behind Guinevere's back. He'd cheated Guinevere. But it had felt so right at the same time. That one second kiss was better than any of the other kisses he had shared with Guinevere over the past three years. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed the feel of Hermione's lips on hers, the electricity that coursed through their bodies so close to each other, that overwhelming desire to protect her and keep her close.

He was completely conflicted. He did miss Hermione. All this time trying to forget her and he'd gone and put her right back into his heart. Well, she'd always been there, even if just deep down- but now she had come back with the swiftness of a rain storm, completely clouding over his heart. Arthur rubbed his forehead as he stared into the flames. He'd gone and made a stupid decision, regardless of how much he'd liked it. Hermione was leaving again right after this mission, she had made that clear since the beginning. He had to stay loyal to Guinevere, and this little lapse of judgement could not change anything.

Arthur came to the decision to stay polite with Hermione, quite cordial and polite, and not fight with her anymore. He wouldn't mention the kiss once, he would just pretend it had never happened. She might not even remember it after the concussion, after all. Once she left, he'd go back to his perfect relationship with Guinevere and everything would go back to normal.

Except he wouldn't be able to forget her and he'd miss her even more again. Again, conflicting. Why did she have such a hold over him? Arthur sighed to himself and kept repeating the same thing mentally. Forget and move on. Forget and move on. Forget and move on.

He'd done it before, and he could do it again.

"The last one," Gwaine said out loud, throwing a log onto the fire. Arthur snapped out of his thoughts.

"Is she OK over there?" Elyan asked Arthur.

"Huh? Oh, she's fine."

"Maybe we should draw lots to see who gets more wood," Gwaine continued, giving a very ungraceful yawn.

"I'll go," Arthur offered, wanting to mull things over in private.

"You'll need help," Lancelot said in his gentle tone, about to get up.

"I'll go with him," Merlin stood up.

"You sure you're the right person?" Arthur said sarcastically, the only way to keep his defenses up and make sure no one could make out his true feelings.

"Well, since when have you known how to collect firewood?" Merlin shot back with a smirk.

The knights chuckled and Arthur and Merlin set off. Merlin collected the wood while Arthur stood by with a torch, deep in thought. He was broken out of his mind when a shriek came from behind them.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted, tossing his torch to the side to tackle the manservant. They fell over the fortress wall.

"Let's go!" Arthur ordered. Into the fortress they went, down some corridors, and into large chamber. They shut the door behind them and the Dorocha disappeared.

"They should've been back by now," Lancelot said anxiously.

"Someone needs to go and look for them," Elyan said worriedly.

"We've only got one torch between us," Percival reminded them. "I'll get Lady Hermione."

He went over to said brunette, who had dozed off only for a few minutes.

"Lady Hermione, come stay by the torch, it's too dangerous for you to be alone."

"Please, Percival, just call me Hermione," she responded in a sleepy voice.

"Yes, of course," he helped her up. "Come with me over here."

Everyone remaining was staying by the torch. Lancelot plucked the torch out of Percival's hand and started walking off.

"Who's coming?" he asked them. Everyone hurried over to Lancelot.

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked Elyan, still a little dizzy on her feet. Merlin and Arthur were the only ones absent... she grew worried.

"Arthur and Merlin went to get firewood and aren't back yet, as you can see," Elyan answered, keeping his eyes on the surroundings. "It doesn't seem right."

Hermione's heart pounded against her chest. What had happened? She silently hoped they were all right- Merlin couldn't die, and neither could Arthur. Merlin was her brother here, the greatest sorcerer to ever walk the earth, she had to make sure he lived! And for Gaius's sake too, she'd promised.

And Arthur... he was the greatest king that would ever rule, his time wasn't now. He was too important to his people and friends. And, frankly, too important to her.

Arthur and Merlin hid behind a corner in one of the fortress chambers. Merlin ripped cloth from his own shirt to tie it around Arthur's arm where he'd been injured. Arthur seemed a bit uncomfortable, Merlin gave him a questioning look.

"It's cold," Arthur said quietly.

"Right," Merlin said slowly.

"You're not feeling it?" Arthur asked in disbelief. Merlin shook his head and shrugged.

"You know, Merlin, you're braver than I give you credit for," Arthur turned to Merlin with a solemn look.

"Really? Was that a compliment?" Merlin asked sarcastically.

"Don't be stupid," Arthur replied with a grin. He and Merlin chuckled together.

"They must have gone this way, there's footsteps in the dust," Lancelot noted as they wandered through the passages in the fortress.

A Dorocha turned the corner in front of them. Hermione pressed herself against Harry while Lancelot warded the Dorocha off. She felt stupid for acting so scared, but it was serious to be facing these creatures and she wasn't exactly at her peak with the whole head injury. Especially without the aid of magick.

"We're getting closer, we must be," Leon said to the pack. More Dorocha came out of nowhere and it became a battle of one torch against numberless Dorocha.

"All the things I've faced...I never worried about dying," Arthur admitted.

"I don't think you should now," Merlin responded, crouched down.

"Sometimes you puzzle me," Arthur added, a little frustrated.

"You never fathomed me out?" Merlin inquired.

"No."

"I always thought if things had been different, we'd've been good friends," Merlin said quietly.

"Yeah," Arthur agreed.

"That's if you hadn't been such an arrogant, pompous, dollop head. "

Arthur chuckled at this.

"We will defeat the Dorocha. We will, Arthur, together."

Arthur stared at Merlin, a little astounded yet sort of proud all the same. "Well, I appreciate that. You know, you're a brave man, Merlin. Between battles." Merlin laughed.

"You don't know how many times I've saved your life," Merlin said honestly, yet in a joking way.

"Ha, I should make you Court Jester," Arthur shot back with a laugh. Merlin joined in but the laughing ceased when they heard the screams of the Dorocha outside the chamber.

"They say the darkest hour is just before the dawn," Arthur said, suddenly as sober as could be.

"Feels pretty dark right now," Merlin noted.

"Well, it can't be long then," Arthur said, looking around.

The Dorocha seemed to have found their hiding spot and swept into the chamber with no restraint. Arthur was about to jump out from his hiding spot when Merlin pushed him out of the way and ran straight for the Dorocha.

"Merlin, no!" Arthur roared.

Merlin jumped at the Dorocha, which caught him in the chest, and threw him into the stone wall. The door burst open and the knights came piling in, with Lancelot warding the Dorocha away. Hermione pushed in front of the pack to see what had happened. Percival was handed the torch.

"What happened?" Lancelot asked hurriedly. He, Hermione, and Arthur rushed over to Merlin. Hermione took his face in her hands and cried out. Arthur and Lancelot gaped in horror. Merlin was frosted like the corpses in the meadow, unblinking.