Something fuzzy brushed against the tip of Arthur's nose. He swiped at whatever pesky insect had infiltrated his chambers, turning in the bed onto his side. He pinched his lips together when the pest next knocked against his forehead, batting it away and burying his face into his pillow. A flutter against his neck and he growled, flipping over with his thumb and forefinger thrust into the air, poised to squish the annoying creature. He discovered instead a human attacker wielding a downy feather.

"You!" Arthur exclaimed. He snatched his enemy round the waist and tossed her over his right shoulder. She squealed as he scooted off the bed, then hauled her across the room and plunked her in one of the plush chairs. He used his hands as manacles to lock her wrists against the armrests and met her eye to eye, nose to nose. "Surrender your weapon."

"I had to," she protested with a pout, but dropped the feather which drifted lazily towards the rug.

"Now, what to do with you." He released one of her wrists, curled up his fingers into claws, and inched the appendage towards her.

"Arthur! Don't you dare!"

He smirked and assaulted her side, digging in with his fingers and wiggling them. Gales of laughter pealed through the room even as she struggled and pushed at him with her free hand.

"Arthur! Stop! Stop!"

Arthur let her go but cradled her chin with both hands. "And now for the worst." He covered her mouth with his. She responded to his kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck. He reluctantly pulled back when she tried to talk.

"You've got practice," she breathed. Arthur stared into captivating dark irises that had been his for almost a week. Permanently his.

"I love you," he whispered and kissed Gwen again. Tingles threaded down his back and legs to his toes.

"You have your duty," Gwen said, pushing him away. "And I have mine."

"Stay."

"If someone sees me..."

"I don't care."

"Then I'll care for both our sakes."

He sighed and backed up enough for Gwen to rise but grasped her hands. "We should make this public."

"It's best this way. You know that."

Arthur reluctantly nodded. They had decided together their marriage couldn't be announced until a later date. Gwen had sensibly pointed out the torment their people had been through, and even though a royal wedding might have lifted some spirits, too many had perished to celebrate just yet. A lavish wedding would be frivolous waste. Arthur had assented to her wisdom but had been unwilling to wait to marry her, so they'd compromised. The day after they'd returned to Camelot they'd pledged their troths to Geoffrey in front of Merlin, Morgana, Lancelot, and Gaius, each of whom had sworn vows of secrecy.

Gwen pulled her hands out of his grip. She'd dressed as she had every morning since he'd known her, donning the clothes of a servant. He hated them. She should be bedecked in a purple gown drowning in jewels. And yet, he burned with admiration at the thought of her humility—she tackled her serving duties as heartily as before, unchanged by the fact she'd become the most important women in the kingdom.

Arthur winked at her as she slipped out the servant's side door. She rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue, and then she was gone again. The nights he spent with her were too fleeting.

Gwen had left just in time. A knock sounded at the door. Arthur granted entry. A manservant entered with breakfast and stood by as he partook, ready to prepare him for the day.


Merlin kindled magic and tossed a metal jousting ring into the air with added oomph. He squinted, watching the zipping and zooming creature overhead twist a somersault and snap the ring out of the air.

"She's getting good at that," Lancelot remarked.

Merlin nodded and waited for the dragon to barrel downwards and land with a puff of dust at his feet. "Good work, Aithusa," he complimented, accepting the ring from her jaws. "How about..." A guttural language issued forth as Merlin commanded the dragon, and Aithusa hopped up and down in agitation until Merlin sent the ring zinging aloft once more. The dragon bolted straight up from the ground and fire spewed from its mouth like a fountain, enveloping the ring. When the iron tumbled back to earth, a melted piece of slag thumped against the sand. Merlin blinked owlishly.

Lancelot laughed aloud. "Don't tell Arthur!"

Merlin gulped. Aithusa landed again and danced back and forth until Merlin fed her a rather large rat she swallowed whole.

"Gwen's here."

Merlin quickly whispered a spell. The sand of the arena floor shifted to conceal the metal lump.

"That's a new one. Why don't you bury our enemies like that?"

"I can't bury it down too far," Merlin muttered, taking up position next to the knight.

"Even burying just a foot or leg would help in a fight."

"You know how you dig with your hands scoop by scoop?"

"Yes?"

"Well, it's the same way with magic but you dig with your mind. I can't stand there in the middle of a battle and dig out handfuls until a soldier's foot sinks down. And anyway, sand is easier. There isn't a lot of that where we usually fight our enemies."

Lancelot nodded thoughtfully as Gwen stopped in front of them.

"How's Aithusa?" Gwen asked.

"Fine," Merlin answered. Upon hearing her name, the dragon sidled up beside his left leg, folded her wings inwards, and twittered.

"She likes you."

"A little too much," Merlin muttered. The dragon would have followed him everywhere if he didn't command her now and then to manage herself.

"It's odd how much she likes you and Grenned likes Freya."

The red dragon had devoted himself to Freya, cuddling up next to her every chance he got. He'd been so distressed when Freya had gone off with Balinor that Merlin had commanded the creature to go with her and obey his father. Their mission was a dangerous one anyway. Good to have a dragon along, even a newborn one.

Gwen must have read his thoughts because she stepped up to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure they're all right."

"It's been almost a week. What if..."

"You'd feel it, wouldn't you? If the dragon died?"

"Right. Yeah." He'd felt Kilgharrah die and he hadn't even bonded with Kilgharrah like he had his own dragons. The bonding hadn't surprised his father—dragons usually had an affinity for the dragonlord who had called them from their eggs—but he had been shocked when the dragons wouldn't listen to him at all. A dragonlord hatching a dragon wasn't supposed to be the sole commander of its will, but for some reason, in Merlin's case, the dragons were wholly and only his. Yes; if Grenned met with trouble, certainly he'd sense the danger.

"I just wish they were back," Merlin said.

"They'll be back soon," Gwen assured. "Right now, though, you need to concentrate on your duty here and that means stop going easy on Arthur."

"Easy on him?" Merlin balked. "Who's been easy?"

"I know you, Merlin. You haven't been testing him with even a fraction of your power, have you?"

Merlin glanced away from her. "Maybe not."

"Test him today."

Merlin looked back. "I almost lost him again. I'm not going to endanger him."

"It's the only way to know what he can really do. If he's going to fight a war, he has to know how far he can push himself."

Merlin glared at her. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you weren't slipping into Arthur's chambers every night. People who do whatever you're doing tend to want the one they're doing it with to stick around."

Gwen slapped him on the shoulder. "Be good. What I want is my husband to survive what's coming." A hint of fear crossed her features.

Merlin sighed. She was right. Arthur had to be pushed to his limits now instead of in the middle of a battlefield. "Fine. I'll go harder on him."

Gwen inclined her head. "Thank you. Now, you," she said, hooking arms with Lancelot, "escort me to the stands."


The morning that had begun with joy had seeped away as Arthur's armor was fitted upon him and he hefted the burden of kingship and a coming darkness once more. He paused at the entrance to the arena, scanning the stands. He and Merlin had determined this the best place to train; it provided more privacy and extra space in case something went wrong.

Arthur found the people he expected. Gwen, of course, seated next to Lancelot, and a couple rows above them… Arthur's breakfast soured in his stomach. He hadn't yet mastered the churning in his gut whenever he laid eyes upon Leon. Two days after they'd returned from the Isle of the Blessed, Mithian had arrived with her army and with Leon, broken and crippled by mercenaries and bandits. For my sake, Arthur thought. Always people suffering for him, punished for his sins and the sins of his father. Arthur's hand cinched around the hilt of the dragon sword. No more.

Arthur marched into the list field. Merlin noted him coming and spoke to the white dragon at his side in that strange, guttural language. Interestingly, Arthur didn't feel it. The double heartbeat still punched his chest whenever Merlin did magic but not when he commanded the dragons. Aithusa fluttered over to the stands, stretching her neck and squawking. She never seemed happy when Arthur took Merlin from her.

"What's wrong?" Arthur asked as he stopped in front of Merlin.

"Nothing."

"Right. That's why you look like you swallowed Gaius' hair growth potion by mistake."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "I only did that once."

"And it was hilarious. I laughed for days."

"This is serious, Arthur. There's a witch out there somewhere who's coming for us."

Arthur frowned. "You usually at least giggle when I tease you."

"Girls giggle. I laugh."

"You usually laugh when I tease you. Tell me."

Merlin glanced towards the stands and back. "Gwen says I need to go harder on you."

"She's right."

"You know I haven't been using all my power? Why haven't you said anything?"

Arthur rubbed at the back of his neck. "I can guess what it did to you when you saw me bloodied up on the Isle's altar… I didn't want to push you so soon after all that."

Merlin blinked.

"Don't cry," Arthur begged under his breath. "You always cry."

"I do not," Merlin protested, running a quick sleeve over his eyes.

"Only when something matters." Arthur leaned in close to him. "Truth is, I appreciate that heart of yours, Merlin. Always reminds me what's important."

"Thought you didn't want me to cry."

Arthur sighed. "You doing so also makes me feel I need to fix it." Arthur unsheathed the sword. The patterns on the side sparkled even in the light. "So let's fix it. Make me work harder this time."


Merlin spun a rock in the air, then let it fly like a stone from a slingshot. Arthur met the wolfhound-sized boulder, the sword slicing right through. Arthur clenched his jaw, his chest rising and falling rapidly. It had taken three days for him to hold the sword with a better amount of control, but it still appeared he wrestled internally with a raging inferno.

Merlin hurled more rocks Arthur's way and he slashed through each of them in succession. Both of them had been amazed at how much punishment the sword could take, cutting through rocks like butter. What it could do to a man...

Merlin gulped, concentrating. He'd become more proficient, more exact in his ability to wield spells ever since being reborn in the lake. He could shoot a blast at Arthur, and if Arthur didn't get his shield up in time, now he could draw it back. Merlin took a breath and fire burst from his palm.

Arthur threw up his shield in time, blocking the flame. Merlin nodded with relief and approval, then pressed forward, shooting blast after blast. Arthur advanced as well, inching his way forward. Good, but in battle Arthur's back would also be exposed. Merlin would be there, of course, but still, in the midst of chaos, who knew what could happen?

Merlin directed another blast. The flame split in two right before meeting Arthur's shield. The first flame burst against the shield, but the second ricocheted to the right and arced towards Arthur's back. Panicked, Merlin began to recall his fire, but Arthur spun round and swiped at the blast with his sword. The blade swallowed the fire. Merlin dropped his hand, stunned, as the fire danced along the blade then disappeared. He jogged up to Arthur.

"Did you know it could do that?" he asked, reaching out a hand to run it over the blade. It wasn't even hot.

"No," Arthur answered, sounding as awed as he. "But I felt it."

"What?"

"It was like the fire moved from the sword up my arm and into my chest."

Merlin locked eyes with Arthur. So many uncharted waters for them both. Arthur could chop through magical beings and rocks, but Merlin hadn't thought he'd be able to defeat magical attacks such as spontaneous flame. "Okay. Let's see what it can do."

Merlin backed up eagerly. When he'd paced several yards away, he sucked in a breath and lightning careened from his fingertips. Fire felt easy these days. Lightning was a new skill, harder. The hair along his neck and arms rose and an electric jolt shuddered through him. He'd been careful not to make the bolts too strong, afraid what they might do to him.

Arthur slammed his blade right into the beam. The sword burst with brilliant white light and as Arthur staggered back, a scream ripped from his throat. Merlin extinguished the lightning. "Arthur!"

"Stay there! I'm fine. Fine." Arthur stood up taller and his eyes seemed to flicker with an inner light. "I feel even stronger. More! Keep them coming!"

Merlin sent bolt after bolt of lightning, wind, ice, fire. Every element that met the blade was drawn within. Arthur finally groaned loudly.

"Enough, enough." He shuffled over to Merlin, his face pinched with pain.

"I hurt you."

"Not you," Arthur moaned. "Get this off." He tapped at the armor with the sword, then sheathed it.

Merlin began to remove the pieces, and he gaped when he got a good look at Arthur's shoulders. "How in the..." He placed a hand on one of Arthur's biceps. It was huge and as solid as the stone of the citadel. "You got too tight?"

"Felt like I was about to break my armor."

Merlin circled round, pulling off the breastplate, eyes round at Arthur's enormous chest stretching the ties of his gambeson. "This is… I thought… When we fight..."

"We might actually win this thing," Arthur whispered.

"Yeah."

"If we didn't have a war to fight"— Lancelot had left the stands and stood staring at Arthur with contemplative awe—"I'd tell Gwaine to sign you up for the wrestling matches in the lower town."

"Wouldn't be fair," Arthur muttered. He waddled towards the stands and Merlin held his arm to steady him until he reached the benches and sat down next to Gwen. He leaned over, arms laid along his thighs, breathing heavily.

"It's unbelievable," Gwen exclaimed. "Are you all right?"

"I will be," Arthur answered and flexed his right hand. "It's losing strength already. When we do engage in battle, I'm going to need to hold the sword the entire time."

"That's not going to be easy," Lancelot noted.

"Not if I keep intercepting magic." Arthur drew in a long breath. "Taking the magic in, it replenishes me. I didn't feel tired. I felt like I could fight all day."

"Arthur, this worries me," Gwen said, biting her lip. He looked to her. "I'm grateful for it, but we don't know the long term consequences."

"Thought you wanted Merlin to go harder on me." Red blossomed in Gwen's cheeks. Arthur chuckled and reached out to squeeze her hand. "I'll be careful."

Gwen nodded, but didn't seem entirely satisfied.

"I'll keep an eye on him whatever happens," Merlin assured.

Gwen raised her chin. "I will. I'm going with you."

"No," Arthur said. "Absolutely not."

"I told you I'm never staying behind again."

"Guinevere, I need you here if..."

Gwen covered his mouth with her hand. "I won't be left behind, Arthur Pendragon. Your life is my life, and I'll go wherever you go."

"I think she's like me," Merlin said, grinning.

Arthur huffed an exasperated breathed. "Meaning even if I make an order, it's going to be disobeyed."

Gwen nodded succinctly. Merlin smiled at her.

"My lord! My lord!" A messenger hurried across the arena, kicking up dust in his wake.

Arthur pushed to a shaky stand. "Yes?"

"Sir Elyan reports another army, my lord! They're almost to our doorstep."

"Gwen."

The maid popped up to her feet. "I'll have rooms ready and maids waiting."

"Lancelot, gather what knights you can." Most of the knights had accompanied Sirs Lucan and Elyan into the towns to aid in rebuilding. Lancelot followed at Gwen's side as they rushed back to the castle.

"You. Get Morgana," Arthur ordered Merlin, who hurried off to seek out the royal princess followed by the white dragon.


"That was quite a show," Queen Mithian said when Arthur approached her.

"I don't think I can take all that much credit for it," Arthur replied, letting a stray eye fall on Leon. The man was silently contemplating his hands in his lap. They hadn't shared more than a few words since the knight had returned.

"Another army's arrived," Arthur reported. A day ago, Bayard had showed, but without Olaf. The Northern kingdoms of Albion were in turmoil again and Olaf was needed. Bayard had expressed Olaf's extreme hatred to miss out on the fight for Camelot. He had sent some of his soldiers along, however, under Bayard's authority.

"Caerleon?"

"I assume so."

"I'll go with you."

"I was hoping you would." Arthur glanced at Leon. "If you're free."

"Go," Leon murmured, finally peering up at Arthur from under his long fringe. "Send a servant to collect me."

"Leon..."

"It's your duty, my lord."

"As are you," Arthur spoke gently.

"A queen commands priority."

"I can stay," Mithian said, "until someone comes."

Leon covered her hand when it touched his shoulder. "Arthur needs you more."

"Sir Leon, I've told you more than once I consider you under my charge when I am around. I make the decisions."

The ghost of a smile played momentarily across Leon's lips, then it vanished. "Still, your majesty, there are things more important than me. Send someone. I will be fine." He looked up at her. "Please."

Mithian sighed, leaning down to briefly kiss the top of his head. "Sir Knight, I will greet Queen Annis, but then I will check your chambers, and if I find you have been neglected, the steward will meet his fate at the end of my sword."

Mithian latched onto Arthur's arm. When they reached the arena's exit, she peered back over her shoulder.

"Thank you for taking an interest in him," Arthur said. "He hardly responds to me."

All playfulness had left Mithian's eyes. "He faded every hour we traveled closer to your capital. I am sorry I didn't bring him back to you whole."

"I've seen knights broken before after harrowing battles. Their souls seem to be...missing."

"His soul is still there, my lord, and I will find it."

Arthur noted the determined set of her jaw. "I believe, and I hope, you will." He continued to stare at her, contemplating the way she had looked at Leon just now and how he'd heard from the steward she spent every spare moment in the knight's chambers…

Mithian glanced up at him and her cheeks tinged the slightest pink. She cleared her throat, faced ahead, and pulled him along at a faster clip. "About Caerleon, my lord..."

Arthur sobered. Yes. Annis. "My father despised King Caerleon. He defeated him at the Battle of Denaria, and when the man attempted to seize our North-eastern borders a year after, he rode out to do battle again. He won, and when he couldn't find the king, he decided to send a message. He had the captured soldiers draw lots and executed those chosen. One of them was the king dressed as a common soldier."

"I remember," Mithian said.

"You remember? I was only a year old. How do you remember?"

"My father told me the story and that the event cut off all interaction between Caerleon and Camelot. Why didn't Caerleon announce who he was when your father had them draw lots?"

Arthur scratched at his trim beard, a feature he'd decided to keep after he'd returned home. It made him feel more kingly. "Maybe he did. Some believe he did."

"Then that would mean your father killed him on purpose."

"Yes."

"But what if Queen Annis believes so?"

It was Arthur's turn to feel warmth rise in his cheeks. "My father wasn't kind to her."

"I thought they never met."

"Not in person, but after Caerleon was executed, his queen sent a demand for recompense. My father replied with a letter threatening the new queen with death if she dared step a toe over Camelot's border, and he included several rose stems plucked of their blossoms. He mocked her mourning."

Mithian stalled. Arthur paused and looked down at her. Her eyes chastised. "I didn't know any of this."

"I'm afraid when my father wanted to make his meaning clear, he made it clear." A nerve in Arthur's back twitched. Indeed, his father had made his meaning very clear to his son with a whip's lashes.

"But this complicates everything. I didn't know your father had acted so heartlessly."

"It isn't surprising."

"It isn't, but what he did to Annis… What if she still hurts over it?"

"It was so long ago and..."

"Arthur Pendragon," Mithian scolded, drawing her hand away from him to wag a finger in his face. "You don't know anything about women."

"I understand she may hurt, but my father's dead!"

"And she may hold a grudge."

"Another grudge. How many of those must I weather?" Arthur muttered under his breath. He stood up straight and wrapped his arm around Mithian's again to continue walking. "I trust you. You said you knew her and you trusted her to come join us. She's come. That must mean something."

A breath gusted out of Mithian's mouth. "Annis is a good queen, a good woman, but she isn't the easiest to get along with. This worries me."

"You? Worry?" Arthur teased. Mithian scowled up at him. "You're just as forceful as Queen Annis, I'd wager."

"Let's hope I'm persuasive, anyway," Mithian mumbled. "The truth is I agree Caerleon wasn't a very good man. Even so, I think Annis loved him in her way."

"How did you come to know her so well? Your kingdoms are so far apart."

"My father sent her condolences at the loss of King Caerleon. I don't think he was sorry King Caerleon passed, but he had much more respect for Annis. She visited us twice by ship. My father knew her in his younger days, though he never told me much about those times. I sometimes thought..."

Arthur peered down at Mithian's thoughtful brow. "Thought what?"

"You recall when I told you I had seen true love?"

Arthur nodded. That was when she encouraged him to pursue his love for Gwen.

"Well, the way my father looked at Queen Annis..."

"He loved her."

"I always wondered anyway."

Arthur strode on, a small smile gracing his lips. He wondered, too. Not about Mithian's father and Annis, but about the Queen of Nemeth, who seemed to harbor a soft spot for his broken knight.


Morgana searched a battlefield she'd seen every day in the last week. Merlin was floating above everything as usual. Arthur would be near him, mouth open in a cry, holding out the sword with globes of light zipping forth from it. Beings with any magical power were speared through with light emanating from the warlock. Morgana breathed in and out slowly, getting her bearings. She'd gone south and east before. Time to go west.

She picked her way through soldiers bearing different colors than in the east. These were...Bayard's army. Yes. Bayard had arrived in Camelot just three days ago. She'd already found Mithian's army mingled with Camelot's in the east. More creatures were attacking here and… Morgana paused, staring up at an impossibly large snake. The lamia. It had to be. Morgana ignored the shivers up her neck and pressed onward.

"Where are you?" she whispered. What confused her more than anything was her inability to find the Dochraid. From what Aglain had told them, the witch was the linchpin and therefore, their main target, not Morgause or Mordred. Morgana hadn't found either her sister or the Druid boy yet anyway, but they had to be there, didn't they? Or maybe not. What if...what if...Morgana flung frustrated hands in the air. What if what? This vision was static, a second frozen in time. There was no telling what had occurred before time held still.

She sighted Bayard running toward the lamia, a maddening determination in his eyes, not unlike Mithian whom she'd discovered on the other side of the battlefield, though the queen's left sleeve was dark with blood. She hadn't mentioned that yet. Arthur wanted her to tell him everything she saw, and guilt admonished her every time she held information back, but she wondered. What good would it do to tell someone they'd take a wound? If she did, would that change anything or would it make the wound come to pass? Would telling Bayard the lamia would go after his men make him more alert to its appearance or would it make him more anxious and cautious when he needed to be decisive in the midst of the fight?

Morgana stopped hiking. Dreams, visions. Merlin said the Great Dragon had called them ill things. They were ill, yes, and more. They were torment and torture to those who bore them. She was constantly cast about adrift in a boat with no direction. She couldn't rest or sleep like everyone else because what she saw mattered. She had to find the Dochraid, like Arthur wanted. If she didn't...If this battle progressed...If what they saw of Merlin wasn't Merlin acting under his own power, like Arthur suspected, but the Dochraid influencing him, then...then…

"Morgana," a muffled voice called, and she jumped when a hand touched her shoulder. The battlefield winked out of existence, and she felt like a limp rag doll sucked back into into the castle catacombs.

"Sorry," the voice said apologetically. "Arthur wanted me to come get you. Queen Annis is here."

Morgana glanced up and smiled weakly. Merlin stared down at her unhappily. "My Merlin," she spoke quietly, "what troubles you? Besides the fact we're about to go to war with a demonic witch."

Merlin knelt before her. He glanced up at the marble sarcophagus behind her. "Why do this here?"

"You're avoiding my question."

"I'm still curious."

Morgana looked up at the sarcophagus she leaned against. It belonged to her biological father, Uther. "It reminds me what we're fighting for, that we have to win and be better than he was. We have to keep this land and make it what it was supposed to be—good for everyone."

Merlin nodded thoughtfully.

"And hardly anyone dares trespass down here, so I am undisturbed." Merlin smiled with half his mouth, and Morgana laid a hand on his knee. "I'll tell you what troubles me, but you mustn't tell Arthur."

Merlin fixed her with a solemn gaze. "I won't tell him."

A pang of emotion wet Morgana's eyes. "You know what it is to have so much power, abilities no one can comprehend. No one else can truly understand our burdens. There's so much we can do, that I can do. If I don't learn how to defeat her, everything could be lost because I didn't see enough." Merlin's blue eyes glazed with tears. She'd always treasured his compassion; he'd been what they all needed. Providence had sent him to them, to Camelot and the citadel, a diamond in the rough that demolished their facades and nurtured the good of their hearts.

Merlin grasped her hand, holding tightly. "I know what you feel, but this isn't on you. You didn't make all of this happen, and you can't blame yourself for whatever happens. To think that...well, it's just madness. I know."

Morgana smiled again. "These words from the boy who blames himself for most everything that happens to Arthur."

"I didn't say it was easy to believe." Merlin scrubbed his dark locks with his free hand. "I really should have told you about my magic sooner. I should have told you you were a seer. Maybe if I had, you wouldn't have gone through so much and..."

Morgana squeezed his hand. "Weren't you just telling me not to blame myself?"

"Yeah, but..."

"I'll make a deal with you. You don't blame yourself and I won't blame myself. For whatever comes."

Merlin stared at her for several seconds. "I'll try."

"I suppose that's the most I can ask for. Now, help me up and let's go greet the queen."


Arthur stood straight and tall, bedecked in his armor, Mithian at his left side, resplendent as always. Merlin stood at his other side, and next to him, Morgana. What knights had been gathered had joined Lancelot behind them on the entrance steps. It was an honorable welcoming party. In truth, Arthur was entirely nervous about Queen Annis' arrival. Still, what he had spoken to Mithian was the truth—Annis coming to Camelot intimated a willingness to let bygones be bygones.

The queen rode through the citadel gates on a splendid white horse, appearing as proud as Arthur expected with back stiff and frame faced firmly forward. She wore the rustic clothing of her people, relying on furs and roughspun cloth. A simple silver band crossed her brow and underneath, her eyes burned fire. Annis' calm exterior, Arthur decided, belied a woman of aggressive action. He glanced at Mithian, grateful someone the queen liked was on his side.

"Queen Annis," Mithian greeted, descending the stairs once the woman dismounted. Annis returned her greeting her with an embrace and a tight smile. So far, so good. Mithian turned to Arthur. "I would like to introduce King Arthur of Camelot to you."

The formidable queen studied him for a long second. She must have been a beauty in her earlier days, a woman with fetching red hair that had now dulled with age. A few wrinkles adorned her face, but she wasn't as old as Arthur had predicted. Caerleon must have been far older than her when they married.

"Queen Annis," Arthur said, bowing his head in deference. When he looked up, she was moving swiftly towards him, and before he could defend himself, a sharp pain exploded in his cheek and his head snapped to the side.

Merlin leaped in front of Arthur, hand raised, and the knights began to rush down the stairs.

"Stop!" Arthur shouted. "Stop! Hold your places!" He forcefully grabbed Merlin's arm, yanking him back to his side. The youth glared at him but stayed put while Arthur faced Annis' stone cold expression. Mithian stood behind her, eyes round with shock.

"Your majesty," Arthur began, "allow me to express—"

"Camelot killed my husband and denied me heirs," Annis declared, lancing him through with wrathful eyes. "I demand the satisfaction of single combat."

Arthur blinked, both in surprise and to force back tears at the throbbing of his cheek. "I do not wish to fight you."

"Then I name you coward, and Camelot as treacherous and dishonorable as when your father occupied the throne." Queen Annis turned, heading back to her horse, ignoring Mithian who tried to speak with her.

"Who must I fight to prove myself?" Arthur called out. The knights behind him protested and Merlin hissed at him.

"Arthur..."

"Trust me, Merlin," he whispered.

Annis spun on her heel, grinning ferally. "Me."


"Aren't you going to do something?" Merlin begged Morgana as they and Lancelot watched a squire divest Arthur of his armor.

To Merlin's shock, Arthur had assented to Annis' single combat demand without any more hesitation. Within ten minutes, the greeting party and their guests had assembled on the practice field, knights of Camelot on one side, those from Caerleon on the other. Queen Annis had already thrown off her furred coat and even removed her dress, revealing she wore men's pants and a long sleeved shirt underneath. Lack of armor meant she was vulnerable, so of course Arthur decided he wouldn't wear any either. The queen was currently speaking to Mithian, whose hands were gesturing every which way, probably trying to convince Annis to withdraw the challenge.

"I'm about to," Morgana replied.

"He won't listen to you," Lancelot advised.

"That doesn't matter."

"I've seen him like this. His mind is made up."

Merlin scowled at Lancelot. "Talk to him," he urged Morgana. "You can stop him."

Morgana set her jaw and marched up to Arthur followed by Merlin and Lancelot.

"I know what you're going to argue," Arthur said as the squire continued to remove his armor, "so don't."

"Damn your pride!"

"My pride?"

"You think you'd look a coward if you refuse a woman's challenge. You never could refuse mine."

Arthur guffawed, then covered his mouth with a hand. "You, Morgana, were something entirely different. Call it sibling rivalry."

Morgana laid a hand on his arm. "I was goaded once, too, by Morgause. I had no idea what she really wanted."

"You don't need to fear for me."

"Arthur," Merlin almost shouted, exasperated. "Listen to her!"

"I am." He looked to the squire, who had laid down the last piece of his armor. "You may go." The lad scurried back over to the other knights.

"If someone needs to fight..." Lancelot began.

"No one is fighting but me."

"I had to try."

Arthur slapped Lancelot on the shoulder. "You're a good man and friend."

"At least take this," Merlin pleaded, holding out the sheathed dragon sword. He'd already tried to shove it into Arthur's hands once, but his king had waved him away.

"No. Annis wouldn't stand a chance."

"Exactly!"

"She already thinks I don't have honor, and I'm not going to prove I don't by going after her with that."

"Pride," Morgana spat and rolled her eyes.

"What if she kills you?" Merlin asked.

"Thanks for the confidence, Merlin."

"But your right hand's weak. You'll have to use your left."

"Yes."

"But, Arthur…"

"This is the right way to do this." Arthur fixed him with the gaze that always commanded his trust.

"Do you know something I don't?"

Arthur looked at them each in turn as he answered. "Why would Annis come this far just to slap me and challenge me to single combat?"

Lancelot cocked his head. "You think she doesn't mean it."

"I think if she were truly vengeful, she'd have been like Odin, tried to play nice then attempted to kill me. A dagger in my heart when I slept or something."

"So why do this?" Morgana asked, glancing at Annis.

"I think she's testing me like everyone has. She wants to know if I'm my father."

"You don't think she'll fight," Merlin said, a bit of relief creeping in.

"I think she'll pretend to. I just have to go along until she sees who I really am."

"This is a gamble, Arthur," Lancelot warned.

"One I'm willing to make. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to procure a sword."


Arthur took his place across from Annis, who was standing stock still, her sword held vertically in front of her. Her forehead touched the blade and she whispered. A prayer maybe? Or talking to her dead husband? All things considered, Arthur supposed they were evenly matched. He had youth and vigor on his side but bore a wounded hand that disadvantaged him. Annis had years of skill and experience but was clearly aging. None of that would matter, however. He'd studied all the kingdoms of Albion as a youth, including Caerleon. The peoples of Caerleon prided themselves for their brutish ways. Annis wouldn't respect him unless he fought and she appeared to avenge her husband. This so-called combat would cover her honor and test him at the same time.

"Your majesty," Arthur began, "what are your terms?" This would prove him out or reveal his error.

Queen Annis fixed shrewd eyes on him. "A perceptive question, King of Camelot. I will state my terms."

Arthur suppressed a smile. If she had meant a combat to the death, she wouldn't have assented to terms. He was right about her. He had to be.

"If I claim victory," Annis went on, "the method of recompense is mine to declare."

"As long as it does not involve the death of me or any subject of Camelot."

"I do not require death."

Arthur breathed an inward sigh of relief to find himself proved right. "So we duel to the first touch of the sword?"

"We duel to the first brought to his knees." Annis' knights snickered behind her.

"I accept your terms. Begin."

Annis wasted no time, rushing Arthur. He barely threw his blade up in time, but steel rang when their swords met. Annis leaped back, then dashed forwards again, employing a series of moves Arthur had never encountered before. He repulsed every attack but grunted at the brute force of each. All others he'd dueled had relied on the patterns of well studied sword masters with perhaps a tinge of innovation here and there. Annis utilized a style all her own, fast, honed, and augmenting her womanly finesse.

As the fight continued, Arthur admitted he'd underestimated the queen. Her grim expression never changed, and she kept at him even as his own strength began to flag. Then she backed off suddenly. Her chest rose and fell with exertion, but she showed no other signs of tiring. Perhaps her honor had been preserved and she made room for him to end this.

"Do you wish to yield?" Arthur asked politely. Annis' response was a roar and she came at him like a raging beast. Clang, clash, thwack! Arthur was thrown backwards. A collective intake of breath sounded from his knights as he stumbled over his feet. Annis' sword struck him flat along the back as he righted himself. He bit his cheek to silence a cry and rounded on her, giving up any thought of meeting her with less force than he usually would. He came at her with his own brute strength, everything he had. Annis didn't falter. She grinned.

For some time they fought, moving back and forth all over the field. Arthur's left hand ached furiously. Annis kept on, each thrust and swing as strong as the one before. And then she overestimated one of her reaches. A gap opened up. Arthur thrust out his sword to slam it against her chest...and felt Annis' sword crash against the back of his legs. She had redirected her feint. He tumbled to his knees, then onto his stomach. He had lost.

Arthur breathed heavily into the grass and was about to push up on his palms when a sword tip pressed in-between his shoulder blades. Shouting rang out and Caerleon knights rushed forward to ring round their queen.

"Don't fight!" Arthur shouted.

"They won't," Merlin growled from beside him. He looked up, surprised to find Merlin kneeling next to his head, hand raised in the air. Arthur peered back and forth. Caerleon's knights had backed away, staring at them. His own knights peered through them, but none had drawn a sword.

"What did you do?" Arthur asked.

Merlin answered him but was glaring at Annis. "Shielded us."

"Her, too?"

Merlin nodded.

"The warlock," Annis spoke from above him. "A valuable ally in times such as these."

"I won't let you kill him," Merlin threatened.

"Is this how you fight your battles, King of Camelot? When it appears you have lost, magic becomes your savior?"

"May I look upon you?" Arthur asked. The sword point retreated, and he rolled over then sat up, knees steepled. "Magic does have its uses. There's a witch that wants to destroy every man, woman, and child of Albion. We will only defeat her if we unify."

Annis raised her chin. "Are you afraid to face me without your warlock?"

"Drop the shield, Merlin."

"Arthur..."

"Do it!"

Merlin lowered his hand and his eyes ceased glowing.

"Get back," Arthur ordered, staring pointedly at Merlin. His ward stood and backed away.

"To have such magic at your command," Annis ruminated. "And I am told Druids have taken your side as well."

"Join with me."

Annis slowly sheathed her sword. She leaned downwards, arm outstretched as if to help him up, but instead of grasping his hand, she shoved him back and nailed him to the ground, knee buried in his chest, hands ringed round his neck.

Merlin ran back towards him but yelped and stumbled within a few feet of them, shaking his head, dazed. He pressed a hand into the air as if touching a stone wall.

Annis smirked. "We have our own magic."

"You have sorcerers?" Arthur breathed, his eyes wide and his lungs constricting. He'd been wrong. She wanted him dead. After all the ridiculous things he'd faced, he'd die because he'd miscalculated an elderly queen.

"We do not have sorcerers. We have only one." Annis' eyes gleamed gold and her fingernails dug into his tender neck. "I was bred for Caerleon. My mother was but one of hundreds to copulate until a child with promise was borne. Me."

"Caerleon wanted sorcerer heirs," Arthur realized, his stomach turning with disgust.

"It was my sole purpose to produce for him. You ruined this."

"I'm sor—"

Annis' hands squeezed. "In Caerleon, sons pay for their father's debts."

Arthur's heart hammered his ribs. "I will make recompense."

"What will you give me?"

"We have gold, jewels, weapons. What do you ask to cover your loss?"

Annis snorted. "I don't want trinkets. You will pay in flesh."

"What do you..."

"If your father were alive, you would have been an acceptable trade."

"Trade?"

"Since I cannot have you, I will accept two dozen of your best knights."

"You want my men?"

The pressure on Arthur's neck loosened. "Your warlock is about to defeat me."

Arthur turned his head. Merlin's hands were pressed against the invisible wall and the air shimmered with electric pulses.

"Do we have an agreement?" Annis asked. She was beginning to shake, to shiver, and her eyes were rolling back in her head.

"Merlin! St—" The invisible barrier exploded with a loud snap. Arthur winced and his eyes watered as the sound pierced his eardrums. Annis was thrown back, tumbling end over end. Merlin ran after her. Arthur stood to wobbly feet and stumbled after him. He pushed round Merlin and knelt beside Annis, rolling her over. She was grinning.

"You will be a powerful ally." She found his hand and gripped it. "They said you had been wounded, would be weak in a fight, yet you did not flinch from my challenge. You, Arthur Pendragon, would have been a coveted heir."

"Would you really have asked my father for me?"

"If I hadn't been so young and afraid, yes."

"He would never have given me."

"Pity."

"About my men..."

"An exchange. Send your knights to me, and I will send my knights to you. For a year. If we are to be allies, perhaps we can make amends by aquainting our people with one another. If we survive the fight against your witch first."

Arthur smiled. He'd been right after all. He stood once more and pulled, lifting Annis to her feet. He took her arm and led her back towards their knights. "A bargain has been struck," he announced.

"My queen!" one of Annis' soldiers, large and burly, cried out. "What has the barbarian made you swear?"

"Everything I asked of him."

"We cannot trust them." The man pointed at Merlin. "Their warlock twists them. We must..."

Annis converged on the man and his head whipped back as Arthur's had at their initial meeting. So, the slap hadn't been an insult. She's respected him enough to treat him the same way she treated her own. The man bowed his head and rejoined his fellow knights.

"From this day forward," Annis proclaimed loudly, "Caerleon and Camelot are brothers! Any who question this loyalty will be scourged without mercy."

Her men mumbled amongst themselves but bowed their heads. It dawned on Arthur how much Annis' own men must have fought her choice to travel into Camelot, yet they were loyal enough to obey her final word. Even if she had been only a tool to Caerleon, she had earned the respect of the men she'd come to rule after his death.

"You could have told me what you meant to do," Mithian said from her place next to Merlin, who looked stunned by the turn of events. Arthur winked at him, and Merlin huffed.

"My dear," Annis said, "you are a very intelligent queen, but you have much to learn about manipulating circumstances to your advantage."

"I think I might appreciate lessons from you."

"Out of honor for your father, I will teach you."

Arthur sighed in relief. He had Caerleon now. Nemeth, Mercia, Northumbria. He'd sent a message to Godwyn but he didn't expect Gawant to get involved. This had to be enough for now. Their armies joined would be formidable. It was time to strategize.

"Arthur." Morgana's hand was on his arm, and she pointed, directing his attention.

"Freya!" Merlin bounded across the yard, flinging his arms round the girl with the red baby dragon at her heels.

"Is that a...dragon?" Annis stammered.

"Yes," Arthur confirmed.

Aglain hurried up to him along with Balinor. "My lord," Aglain greeted, bowing his head.

Blood thumped in Arthur's ears. "You found our enemy?"

"Yes, my lord," Aglain replied, but his gaze was troubled, and Balinor looked frightened.

"What is it?" He peered behind them. People in robes and cloaks filtered through the arch towards the practice field.

"The Druids, my lord," Balinor reported. "They will fight."

"You don't fight," Arthur spoke in awe.

"Iseldir sends our most skilled magic wielders," Aglain said. "He will come himself when he has secured those who are unable to fight."

"They found the Dochraid before we did," Balinor explained. "She had...used them."

"Used them how?"

Aglain's eyes darkened. "To reveal herself. A clan went missing. Their bodies were discovered naked, uncovered..." The Druid stopped, running a hand over his face.

"Exsanguinated," Balinor explained quietly. "A trail of the dead led to her."

Aglain cleared his throat. "She wanted to be found. She waits for us."

"And she has an army."

"How did she get an army?" Arthur asked, aghast.

"She does not use men, but horrors. Beasts of nightmare. You'll need magic. Lots of it."

Arthur gazed on the Druids who had gathered behind the knights.

"It appears, Arthur Pendragon," Annis ruminated, "we arrived just in time."

Arthur slowly nodded. "Where is the Dochraid?" he asked Aglain.

Aglain looked at Balinor, then back to Arthur. "In the Valley of Camlann, my lord."


Author's Note: Well, things have gotten pretty crazy since I last updated! Good news is I have handed in all my grades for the term, and I am staying at home for the duration, so I am getting more time to write now. Hoping to put out a chapter a week! And now we're headed towards Camlann!