Dear Reviewers,

Thank-you all so much for your lovely reviews! You are all awesome. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. There are some intricate plot-details that are beginning to arise, and I am screaming internally with excitement about the next twists and turns… it'll get a wee bit darker and intense before it gets better ;)

Love, Pip

-The Stables –

Merlin was saddling a horse. Dark brown, and rather plain, planting its' hooves with a nervous step. Its' nostrils flared briefly, before it nudged Merlin in the arm. He responded by patting its' neck with a loud smack, muttering some kind, soft-toned words.

"I have never ridden before," I confessed in the silence.

"That's alright, we'll ride double. I won't force you to learn to ride tonight. We'll save that for another time, when we're not so worried, eh?" Merlin smiled. "I'd be happy to teach you how to ride sometime. That is, if Gwaine doesn't mind."

I didn't like the idea of permission needing to be granted. "Gwaine doesn't own me," I said shortly. "And him being a knight, he'd most likely have to request to teach me."

"Wouldn't you like Gwaine to teach you?" Merlin asked, confused.

For a moment, I pictured Gwaine behind me on a horse, arms around my waist, guiding my hands with the reigns. It wouldn't be terrible, I suppose.

"Maybe," I said slowly, "But perhaps its just better for one servant to teach another. I'd—rather surprise him."

"Now, that I understand," Merlin nodded. "We'll surprise him one day when you can ride rings around him. But one thing at a time." He placed his foot in the stirrup, pushed off the flooring, and threw his left leg over the saddle. He was perfectly mounted without batting an eye!

I looked up to the horse's tall back, and felt nervous.

"Come on," Merlin held out his hand. I grasped it tightly, tried to jump, and failed. I was mortified when I came back heavily on the straw bed, both feet firmly planted. How does one get so high?

"Try this," Merlin laughed, slipped his foot out of the stirrup. "Put your right foot in that." I followed his instruction. The horse shifted and stamped a hoof, but remained standing in place. I was relieved that he picked a well-tamed one.

"Now take my hand again?" I took it. "I'm going to pull, and you're going to push off with the foot in the stirrup. On three. One, two, three!" He jerked my arm upwards, I pushed into the stirrup as if it were a ladder rung, and found myself finally high enough to throw my left leg over the horses' rump.

"There, that was easy enough," Merlin said. "Now, put your arms 'round my waist, and hang on tightly. All right, then?"

"All right, then!" I responded, cheerfully terrified.

...

-The Road –

We rode quietly for time, hearing nothing but the heavy beat of the horse's plodding out of town. Often enough, I didn't feel much like speaking, but spending so much time with Thea and Bit was causing me to start conversations more often. I wasn't sure if I liked breaking silences.

Eventually Merlin spoke up, and I didn't have to. "Have you been out of Camelot before?"

"Not very much," I replied, "Just with the girls, on my days off. Just outside of the gate and no farther. I've never really been out of sight of the castle."

"So this must be exciting, then?"

"I'll save my excitement if we find… them. What about you? As Arthur's manservant you must get to go out quite a bit."

Merlin grinned a little to himself. "I've traveled all over Albion. From the Perilous lands to the valley of the Fallen Kings, to the dryads camps and the Isle of the Blessed."

I'd never heard of any of these places, except what was briefly mentioned in speeches of the King. I almost regretted tuning out King Uther's announcements about lands beyond the realm now, otherwise I should have some context to the queer names.

"Actually, some of those places I just mentioned—it's a secret," Merlin said hastily. "I've sworn never to speak about going to some of them."

"You've done a fabulous job," I said dryly. "Remind me to never tell you secrets."

"I'm usually very good about keeping secrets."

"Oh it's too late now, Merlin. I know you've got a slippery tongue. I shall never tell you a secret."

Merlin knew I was teasing him, but his shoulders slumped a little, regardless.

"Oh, very well," I gave in a little. "I shall tell you a very small secret sometime."

He brightened. "Excellent!"

I hesitated. "I don't want to bend the rules of your secret-keeping—but may I ask why you've traveled so much?"

"Well, I'm usually accompanying Prince Arthur. With everything. And originally, I came from Ealdor."

I was shocked. "You're not from Albion?"

"I was born in Ealdor and came to Camelot a few years ago to work with Gaius."

"How did you come to be a manservant for the prince if you're from Cenred's kingdom?"

"I saved Prince Arthur's life."

"You never cease to surprise me."

"In what way?"

"I thought you and Prince Arthur were so close since you'd been lifelong companions. I thought you were given special favors because you were the best of friends."

"Ah! And another truth comes to light," Merlin declared. "You thought I was getting special treatment."

"Well, you were."

"Admittedly, sort of. But for different reasons. Does this change your opinion of me?"

"It's been changed. And it's still changing."

"Hm—the manservant who gets to do what he wants—that doesn't really sound like me."

"It sounds so silly now."

"No wonder you didn't like me, Wren."

"Don't try and excuse my behavior," I snapped, "What's done is done. I was mistaken about you. Let's move on, shall we?"

A long pause followed. I felt so awkward, but Merlin wasn't affected by my outburst.

"I know you're worried about Gwaine," he said slowly.

"It's nearly nightfall. They are hours past due. What could have possibly happened?"

"Do you want to hear my theory?"

"Please."

"Obviously Morgana—if it is her—returned Teller's wife's body. They picked up her trail and found it necessary to pursue, rather than risk losing her in the woods."

"I don't understand why the Lady Morgana would come so close to Camelot."

"She needs something. She needs a healer and a cart. She's only getting close to Camelot so that she can leave and get farther away. She needs to transport Morgause somewhere else. Your idea, not mine."

"But is there really nowhere else she could have access to a healer or a cart-maker?

"She wouldn't go as far as Caerleon or Essetir. It tells us this much: she's been hiding near Camelot for a long time. Perhaps even in these woods."

I shivered. "And she has access to whatever she needs—as long as she can abduct innocent people to do things for her."

"She's getting impatient and making mistakes. This is the first time we've had three disappearances and murders all together. Something is happening."

"She is executing some dastardly plan," I bemoaned. "And all this time that she's been planning, she's been hiding near Camelot."

"But I think by discovering her plans, we've delayed them," Merlin added. "We may not see the fruition of what she wants till later."

"So all of this might be for nothing?"

"I think we've driven her back into hiding."

"You don't think she's on the run?"

"Not with Morgause in tow. She'll use the cart when it isn't suspicious."

"You're bloody smart, Merlin," I exclaimed, without really thinking about it.

Merlin laughed. "Thank-you, Wren!"

"How far to Teller's farm?"

"About a half-mile now. We'll get off the road soon and cross a creek. His cottage is located in a little copse near the wheat fields."

...

-Teller's Cottage –

"Teller won't be here," Merlin said, "He's staying in Camelot tonight—so—"

"We can search for the knights unhindered," I said quickly. I looked up to the falling sun, noting that dusk was coming quickly. As the year waned, so did the hours of light.

The horse plodded to a halt. We crossed the creek with a mere splash, and came through the plain road between two wide fields. In the failing light, the wheat looked like a sea of gold. But at the end, shadows fell from the tall trees, and the cottage was hidden amongst them.

"Let me go first," Merlin said darkly. "Let me just check the yard. If it's clear, we'll search the outer area together."

"Why just you? I worked in a tavern, you know."

"Because magic is dangerous," Merlin said slowly, choosing his words carefully. "If Morgana is here somewhere—I'd rather meet her first."

"You haven't got any weapons," I noted. "Take a stick or something."

"I'm stealthy," Merlin promised, dismounting. He looked up at me and held out his arms. "Help?"

"No!" I exclaimed, feeling slightly dizzy at the height of the horse without Merlin's back blocking my view. I swung my leg over and slid from the saddle, cringing when my feet hit the ground, hard. "I mean," I repeated, "No, thank-you."

"Hold the reigns, the horse won't move if you tug on them and say 'whoa'," Merlin handed me the ropes. With a nod, he turned and disappeared among the trees.

Absently patting the horse's nose, I watched Merlin's shadow flit among the yard, examining the trees, walking around the corners of the cottage, looking in the windows, disappearing into a small stable and finally returning to my side.

"Nothing, then," I said with a heavy heart.

"No sign of anyone," Merlin said. "But the knights' horses are in the stable. They must be nearby. We shall search the woods together."

He took the reigns and tied the horse to the post, producing an apple from his pocket to keep it occupied. I marched to a nearby stump, and pulled a forgotten axe that was embedded in it.

"Wow," Merlin said. "Planning a massacre?"

I glared at him. "You've got your stealthiness, I've got an axe. We're even."

"Looks heavy," Merlin snickered.

It was heavy, but I was frightened enough to accept Merlin's teasing and put up with it.

Part of me expected all the knights to be in Teller's cabin, having some kind of meeting that kept them late. But as they were not nearby, it meant searching the woods—I'd never searched woods before. I had no reason to fear animals before this day. But I had no clue what could possibly be awaiting us.

...

-The Search –

The twilight had settled in a hazy, violet light. Stepping under the branches, we soon lost sight of Teller's cabin. There was nothing to see except the trunks of the pines, the shrubs, the fallen branches. We were silent.

"Do you see it?"

"What, Merlin?" I asked.

"I didn't say anything," Merlin whirled and looked at me, a queer expression in his eyes. "Didn't you say something?"

I suddenly felt like vomiting. "You heard that, too?"

"Someone is here," Merlin held out a hand defensively, walking in a small circle. There was nothing around us—nothing but green pines and a breeze.

"Don't you want to see it?" said the voice again.

"Did you hear that?" I asked, my voice shaky.

"No," Merlin stood close by me. "What did it say?"

"Come and see," said the voice.

"See—see—what?" my teeth chattered with fear. There seemed to be no source from which the voice came. It wasn't to our right or left. It was hovering, near our faces. Within reach—invisible.

"My kingdom," said the voice.

"No," I whispered. "This can't be happening. This isn't real. It's not real. It's my dream. It isn't real."

"Wren!" Merlin exclaimed. "This isn't a dream. What did it say?"

"It—it—said—come and see—the kingdom—" I couldn't tell if I was breathing too much, or had no air at all. Fear seemed to well up so deeply from inside of me, from the darkest place I didn't know existed. It made my skin feel prickly.

"It's okay, Wren," Merlin said, reassuringly. "It's okay. Calm down. Did you feel that presence?"

I gulped, and nodded. I still felt a presence. It was strong. It smelled like a calm before a lightening storm. It made me feel sick.

"I felt it too," Merlin said, "But it has passed. Whatever it was—it's not here anymore."

"I still feel something," I said, feeling very cold. "Why could I hear her?"

"Her?" Merlin asked slowly.

"It was a woman's voice. Didn't you hear it?"

"I heard something at first. I thought it was you."

I realized that I was clutching Merlin's arms. Being so easy going and nonplussed about it, he just patted my hands and repeated, "It's okay, Wren. Take a deep breath. There's magic at work here—it's certain now. That means we know what we're facing."

I tried to see it from his perspective, but I couldn't. How could I possibly dream something before it happened? I didn't know what I was facing. At all.

"I've decided to tell you a secret," I said slowly.

"Oh?" Merlin looked very interested, indeed. His eyes seemed to glow with curiosity.

"I've been having weird nightmares," I looked around at the darkening forest, distrusting the branches as they leered about like disembodied limbs. "And I dreamed this. A few nights ago."

Merlin seemed to take this very seriously. "You dreamed about this voice in the woods?"

"Yes. Saying those exact words. Don't you dare tell anyone."

"I won't tell," Merlin promised. "But this is… curious."

"I'm afraid someone will think I'm like Morgana. But I don't have magic."

"I know you don't, Wren. Don't worry."

"But I swear I've dreamed of this. You believe me?"

"Yes."

"And you won't tell?"

"Never!" Merlin glanced off into the distance, thoughtfully. "And then what happened?"

"Then I…" I trailed off in horror. "Then I found them…the bodies. In another dream, it was him. It was variations of the same. But no screams. Only quiet. But I held him. If the first part came true, maybe the second is true as well!"

"Found who?"

Before thinking clearly, I rushed off in no particular direction. I broke through the trees and began to search a clearing—nothing. Merlin followed, wordlessly. I ran to and fro, finding nothing. Rocks, branches, grasses, trunks, undergrowth, ivy… everything was in its place. Nothing unusual. Over the edge of a miniature stream, I stepped carefully over it, running up and down the bank. Nothing, again, over and over again.

"Wren, let's go back," came Merlin's voice. "We should tell Arthur what we heard. He'll need to know how steeped this mystery is in magic."

I turned, and began to walk back. Around a tree trunk, attempting to step over a large root.

The root moaned, and I gasped in surprise, dropping my axe beside me.

"Merlin, Merlin!" I screamed. "I found them! I found them!"

I dropped to my knees. It was Gwaine, crumpled up inside his armor, so covered in dirt and matted blood that he looked to be a part of the forest. And when I looked beyond him—there were others, the same as him, littering the woods like rubbish thrown into the garden. Just like my dream. There was blood on their foreheads, coming from their jaws, bruises along their necks and chins. They'd all been on the receiving end of a good beating—but they were all beginning to stir at the sound of my screams. As far as I could tell, no one was dead. I let Merlin see to them—he arrived, and began to check for the pulses.

I was trying to awaken Gwaine.

"Please wake up," I said softly, brushing his brown hair away from his face. He moaned a second time, his eyes fluttering open. For a moment, they were unseeing. As it came into focus, he let out a surprised cough, and looked into my eyes.

"What a fine thing to wake up to," Gwaine said hoarsely.

"Oh, hush," I scolded, running my fingers through his hair still. "Can you tell me what happened?" I glanced across the clearing. Sir Leon was sitting up, blinking owlishly. Merlin was tapping Percival's shoulder. Lancelot was already trying to walk and help awaken the others.

"Uh…" Gwaine widened his eyes, squinted, and widened them again.

"Blurry?" I asked.

"Feels like a bad hangover."

"Let me help you up," I took his gloved hand and helped him sit up slowly. He shook his head and put his hand to his forehead, where a dark bruise had formed.

"Got to the cabin," Gwaine said shortly, wincing as he found another bruise on the back of his head. "Went inside to get the lady, but there was someone else in there. Another woman, standing over her, I couldn't see what she was going. She fled, and we chased her. We got to—well, here, I suppose…"

"Surrounded her?" I assisted.

"Aye, she must of blasted us with some magic. I don't… really remember."

"It's alright," I said, examining a cut that was nearly hidden in his beard. "You're all safe now, that's what matters."

Gwaine was slowly collecting himself. For the first time, he fully realized my presence. "Wren," he said slowly, "What—what—possessed you—what are you doing here?"

"Merlin needed company," I shrugged, sheepishly.

Gwaine took hold of both my arms, as if he meant to give me a good shake. "And you thought—if you were going to run in Morgana—you'd just fight her yourself, is that it?"

"I just wanted to find you," I whispered. "What's done is done. We've found you and that's what matters."

"There's a bit of a problem here," came Sir Leon's voice, authoritative and worried. "The woman we chased was not the Lady Morgana."

"Then who was it?" asked Sir Elyan, now sitting up and flexing a sore arm. "I only saw a cloaked figure. Who else COULD it be?"

"I don't know," Sir Leon said sadly. "But I've known the Lady Morgana since she was a small child. I got a good look at her face. Whether she used magic or not for a disguise—it wasn't her."

"And you're sure of that?" Lancelot asked gently.

"I will swear it," Sir Leon said, gruffly. "It wasn't her."

Gwaine looked back at me. "What's wrong?"

My whole body was trembling. My dream wasn't about Morgana. It was about a voice in the woods. It was about finding them, and Gwaine. But he wasn't dead in my arms. Was that yet to come? Or did I just think he was dead while I was dreaming and assume the worst? Whom did the voice belong to? Why didn't she kill the knights? Why did she speak to me in the night?

"Why did the lady sorcerer just leave us lying around?" Percival asked, holding out a hand to Elyan and helping him to his feet. "That seems a bit strange."

Merlin spoke up. "If you don't mind me saying so—her kills seem very deliberate. Maybe she felt it was unnecessary bloodshed. You surprised her—fleeing was her only goal."

"He's right," Lancelot backed him up. "We interrupted something back there. We should return and examine the cabin. After all, we need to put Teller's wife in the wagon and bring her to Camelot—the man must want to bury her and give her a funeral. The sooner the better."

Gwaine was still looking at me. "You didn't answer my question."

"What?" I asked, distracted.

"What's wrong?" Gwaine asked. "You're shaking like a leaf."

"It's… cold. I'm shivering. That's all." If this was not some sorcery of the Lady Morgana, then who had a voice in my head whenever she felt like it? Who would have access? What if I was going mad? "Come on," I said, clearing my throat. "Let's get you up."

With him weighing so much in his armor, I could do very little to help him, except let him hold onto my arm as he stood up.

"Thank-you," he mumbled, embarrassed.

"No trouble," I replied.

"I wish you'd tell me what was wrong," Gwaine said, again.

"I am relieved to have found you. And you must admit, it's a bit eerie out here."

"So evasive. Perhaps another time," Gwaine looked annoyed with me, but didn't press the issue any farther. He did manage a snicker when I had to retrieve my dropped axe.

Leon ordered everyone to return to the cabin, where Madam Teller would be collected and put in a wagon, which Elyan would drive back to Camelot with the rest serving as a guard. The walk to the cottage felt much shorter, considering the ground we had covered was small but my worry and fear made it feel as if we were miles away from anything. Gwaine was walking with a mild limp, but it was only because he was sore from lying on the forest floor in his armor for a few hours. He could still ride without any trouble.

Merlin untied our horse and I moved to join him, but he shook his head.

"If you'd like to ride with me," Gwaine said slowly, "You may." He sat astride the brown horse, patting its neck.

I had a feeling he wanted me to ride with him so that he could ask more questions. He seemed grumpy that I hadn't shared my ghostly-nightmare story, but how could he know? I have every reason not to share it. I admire Gwaine greatly—but what do I know of him? Really? What do I know of Merlin? My instinct said Merlin wouldn't tell anyone of my prophetic dream. I seemed to have no instinct with Gwaine—it was all blind action, acting on impulses, being surprised and surprising myself with the strength of feeling for him. But in being reckless, I have to find moments to be wise. In being forward with Gwaine, and letting my feelings take control, I avowed to keep the nightmares to myself. For now, at least. I was not a le Fay, or at least I hoped I wasn't, and I didn't want anyone else wondering the same thing.

"Wren?"

"I'll ride with you, sorry," I apologized for my distraction. He held out a hand and lifted me by his own strength right into the saddle in front of him. One arm held the reigns, the other was loosely wrapped around my waist. It wasn't quite as exciting as I pictured, but pleasanter, somehow.

-The Road-

"How is your head?" I asked.

"It aches and buzzes," Gwaine sighed.

"You will go see the physician, won't you?"

"Tis required, I'm afraid. He'll be around to visit all of us and make sure we're not dead in our sleep."

"That's a horrible thing to say. I don't want to worry about that."

"You could always keep me company. We shan't bother anyone," Gwaine said, his tone teasing but his suggestion serious.

"I can't go to your quarters, Gwaine…"

"No one need know."

"I'm not one of those maids, either."

"On the contrary, I'm not suggesting you sacrifice your propriety, but you could sneak in. We could talk. Have a drink. Stay up all night. After all, you promised me a day."

"A day, not a night."

"The hour makes no difference."

"If I'm caught leaving that area of the palace, I'll lose my job. Even if we just talk all night."

"Oh—well. I don't want you to lose your job. Though I might see you more often if you were back at the tavern."

"Do you go to the tavern less nowadays?"

"A little less."

"Good!" I snapped. "You should drink less!" I could feel him grinning behind me. His voice came quite close to my ear—closer than before, anyway—and he whispered, "Then, when can we spend time together?"

"You mean if you don't die in your sleep?" I asked, bitterly.

"Right. If I don't die in my sleep."

"I'll be finished in the kitchens tomorrow by the time the royal party is ready for slumber. We have an hour or so at least of all the dish washing and preparation for breakfast."

"Did you get my note?"

"I did."

"And were you averse to the idea of dinner at the tavern with me?" Gwaine asked, hopefully.

"Sadly, the tavern is like a second home," I responded.

"Agreed," Gwaine said. "And you obviously didn't eat with me tonight—"

"You broke the appointment, not I. I came and fetched you from a witch-induced unconsciousness, remember?"

"Oh, yes, how easily I forget. Since I was late for our dinner, we shall postpone. Tomorrow night. Late dinner, of course, but I can wait till you're done with your evening chores. Then we'll eat at the tavern. And talk."

"You really want to talk, don't you?" I sighed, laughing.

"I can see a façade from a mile away," Gwaine explained. "My only problem is being able to see what is on the other side of it."

"Are you accusing me of wearing a mask?" I pretended to gasp.

"No," Gwaine said. "But you were wearing one tonight. So let's start with good food and good talk. Perchance you'll let me take your mask off."

I paused. "Sounds questionable."

"I usually am."

...

-Camelot –

It was important for the knights to report to Prince Arthur as soon as possible. I slipped off Gwaine's horse the minute we were inside the gates, and waved goodnight, which of course frustrated him—but he had his duties, and I had work in the morning. My head was spinning, and I couldn't seem to figure out which worried me more—my esteem for Gwaine and the flutters it gave my stomach, or the frightening voice in my dreams that foretold what happened in the woods.

...

-the Night –

"Do you understand?" said the voice.

I struggled away from the sound of her, floating among the trees with blood on her hands. "Understand what?"

"My gift," she replied.

"What gift?" I sobbed.

"Prophecy," she said. "It's for you if you want it."

"I don't want it!" I screamed loudly. "I DON'T WANT IT, I DON'T WANT IT!"

"It's nothing to be afraid of."

"It's magic. It's evil. I don't want any of it. I don't want to end up like Morgana." I tried to pinch myself. The nightmare felt so real.

"It isn't evil," the voice didn't sound pleased. "See the good it can cause? It helped you find the knights, didn't it? I led you to them."

"No! Get away from me! I don't want it. It's not a gift. It's horrible. I hate it."

The voice was slowly losing its friendly, benevolent tone. "You think you are so above magic?"

"I'm not above anything. I'm a servant. I live my life. I don't want prophecy in it."

"You have disappointed me."

"You're nothing but a bad dream!"

"Don't you sense it?"

"Sense what?"

"The approaching storm—something bad happening."

"Yes—yes I do. But what about it?"

"Know this, Wren—you've rejected my gift of prophecy, but you still possess some foretelling of your own. You may have disregarded my generosity, but I shall be satisfied in knowing you cannot throw away what you already have. I do not have to give you magic. Every human has the potential for it. I shall sit, and wait. Waiting and watching. I am confident that you'll understand someday."

"I will never have magic. No one can force me to."

"That is where you are wrong. I could tear you to a thousand pieces and serve you to Uther for his breakfast if I wished it. Don't forget that."

"You have nothing. You're just a bad dream."

"Don't forget my powers."

"It's only a dream."

"You will regret not taking your opportunity."

"Bad dream!"

"I'll see you again, Wren."

Waking up was a blessed relief, and in a way, a victory of a battle I didn't know existed.

…

Thanks for reading, guys! Please leave your reviews for me to devour! =)

…

Colbub – I hope Wren doesn't become indispensible! I like writing her far too much.

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Softballgirl – No worries, I got your joke! I always yelled "Aggravating Agravaine!" at the screen when he was being mean.

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