WiltingDaisies94: There was a request for some more Merlin time (I don't blame you, I love him too), so from the Philosophical Corner, more advice from the one and only, brilliant and highly under-appreciated Merlin!

Next chapter will be ArMor!

Recap: Queen Guinevere had a nasty shock last chapter as she figured out who her beau really was - her husband's favorite knight. But Lancelot, who is still way in the dark about who this "Lady Morgana" is, has no idea he's been discovered...

Chapter 14

"I do not understand." Lancelot stared at the playing cards in his hand, his gaze passing right through them. "She did not come."

Merlin furrowed his brows and drew a card from the deck, trying to concentrate on the game. "Oh?"

"It seems impossible." Lancelot shook his head, sounding miserable, rejected. "She must have seen me lose at the tourney."

"What?" Merlin drummed his fingers along the tabletop, hoping to avoid this conversation.

Lancelot ran a hand through his hair. "She must have been in the crowd. Idiot!" he berated himself. "I should have fought harder!"

Merlin shot his friend a skeptical look. "What perfect nonsense," he said dryly. "It was the king's wedding tourney – you know he would have eviscerated you had you beaten him."

"I can just imagine." Lancelot was beyond listening to Merlin's logic. "She must have been there, watching me." He groaned and hung his head. "How the lady must have scorned my loss!"

Merlin reached across the table and smacked Lancelot across the back of the head.

"Ow!" The knight's eyes widened and he snapped out of his morose mood. "Thanks," he muttered reluctantly, shaking his head.

"Certainly." Merlin sat back. "Pick a card, Lancelot, it is your turn."

The knight added the top card of the deck to his hand absentmindedly. "Why would she not have come, Merlin? There was a connection between us, it was real, it was there, we both felt it."

"Perhaps she was unwell, Lancelot." Merlin postulated halfheartedly. "Have you considered that possibility?"

"Ill?" The knight's voice sparked with a pathetic hope. "Yes, I suppose that could account for it!"

Merlin rolled his eyes. He'd been fruitlessly trying to focus on the card game. He always lost to Lancelot, but even with the knight distracted somehow he was still unable to win.

"What shall I do?" Lancelot pondered. "I had not thought any further ahead than tonight. How shall I know when she is no longer ill?"

Merlin sighed. "You did give the lady a place to meet, yes?"

"Certainly." Lancelot put his cards down, his good mood slowly returning. "Three knaves. Can you match?"

Merlin pursed his lips and stared at his hand reluctantly. "Two queens," he said, dropping the ladies onto the tabletop. "Match?"

"Yes, and twice over too." Lancelot flipped two kings out of his hand and held them out for Merlin to see. "Two Arthurs."

Merlin hung his head ruefully. "I concede. How do you always manage that trick? Every time… it is impossible to have such luck as you possess." He began to collect and compile the deck.

Lancelot shrugged. "It would seem not of late. I have lost the tourney and Milady is ill. Luck indeed."

Merlin decided not to remind the knight that it was only speculation that the lady was unwell; he quietly shuffled the cards.

"I will wait for her." Lancelot crossed his arms, determined. "We agreed upon a place to meet. I will be there every evening until Milady arrives; she will know that I have continued in pursuit of her."

Merlin shook his head fondly. "You are mad, my friend. Utterly mad."

Lancelot looked appraisingly at the servant. "Merlin, I understand your disbelief, but it is as I said. I feel it so acutely in my center. Have you ever known when you looked at someone that they were precisely what you wanted?"

"Of course. What man has not?"

"Then you understand what I insist on!"

Merlin began to deal out the cards. "And how many a man has been tricked by what he thinks he desires?" he replied calmly.

Lancelot picked up his hand and glanced over his cards, exasperated. "Why must you be such a cynic?"

Merlin raised his eyebrows, coolly surveying his friend. "Do you know about Princess Sophia?" he asked.

Lancelot shook his head. "I do not believe so. Was that Arthur's cousin?"

Merlin chuckled. "No." He put two cards down and drew three from the deck. "She came before you arrived in Camelot."

Lancelot frowned and shifted in his seat. "Who was she, then?"

"The Princess Sophia," Merlin explained, "was a beautiful girl Arthur saved in the woods one day. She and her father were attacked by a group of highwaymen, and Arthur, being the heroic prat he is, interfered to save them."

"And?" Lancelot dropped two cards and picked one.

"King Uther, may his soul rest in peace, invited the Princess and her father to stay on at the palace." Merlin tapped his cards agitatedly. "To this day I have never seen Arthur so smitten with a girl before. He began to shirk his training, avoid his duties, anything to spend time with lovely, charming Sophia."

Lancelot laughed. "Truly?" He grinned. "Strange. I can hardly conjure the image of His Majesty so enchanted by a woman."

"Enchanted?" Merlin smiled loftily, plucking a card off the top of the deck. "An excellent choice of words."

Lancelot raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"

"You see," Merlin said, "I was certain something bizarre was happening with Arthur. I had never seen him in such wonderment over a woman, so I did some investigating. And would you like to know what I discovered?"

"That he was passionately in love with her but Sophia she was already spoken for?" Lancelot suggested jokingly. "Two queens." He put the cards down with a stylish flourish. "Match?"

"Damn it!" Merlin tossed his hand down in frustration. "How do you do that?"

Lancelot grinned wolfishly. "Faith, Merlin. You might consider adopting some."

"Allow me to finish my story, will you? Then you might understand why I lack 'faith', as you call it." Merlin folded his arms across his chest. "Anyway, I discovered Sophia's unfortunate little secret."

"Secret?" Lancelot began to gather the cards. "What secret?"

"Oh, it was nothing important." Merlin leaned his elbows on the table. "Only that she was a magical creature intent on sacrificing Arthur's soul to her evil gods so she could return to her natural, demonic form."

Lancelot's eyes widened and he twitched involuntarily. "I beg your pardon?"

Merlin grinned, enjoying his friend's shocked expression. "Correct, sir. The girl Arthur had fallen madly in love with, suddenly and without logical reason, was trying to kill him."

Lancelot shook his head in skeptical disbelief. "No. Absolutely not."

Merlin bit his bottom lip and nodded, tilting his head. "Absolutely yes. So," he said, "perhaps you should think twice, friend. Twice, slowly, and with every possible outcome in mind."

Lancelot held up his hands. "Very well, I take your point, I do. But I am much less politically important than His Majesty; you know it to be true." He shuffled the cards, putting them together. "She was different. She was perfect."

Merlin held his chin in his hand. "Let me meet her."

Lancelot frowned. "What?"

Merlin shrugged. "If you are so certain about it, introduce me to the lady."

The knight laughed. "Ha! Would that I were able to do so, friend, but as I can hardly meet her myself, I imagine that would be quite impossible." He shook his head. "No. You must trust me to know my own heart, Merlin."

The servant raised his eyebrows. "Know what you do, Lancelot. Do not make Arthur's mistake."

"Silly boy," the knight chirped. "Of course I would not. I pride myself on always making my own mistakes."

Merlin chuckled darkly. "Cheers to that, friend."

"Cheers." Lancelot dipped his head and began to deal the cards.