I'm not sure what the problem was before, the other day, but I hope you enjoy this extra long chapter. Let me know if there are any more problems.

...

Sleep fled from Arthur.

Usually, after a day in the saddle and a few small skirmishes, he was ready to fall into the metaphorical dark abyss until Merlin came to drag him out of bed by his feet. No counting sheep. No warm milk. And certainly no lullabies.

He tried to rationalize the problem. He couldn't sleep because Gwaine was snoring too loudly one bedroll over. There was a rock poking into the base of his spine. This was the same forest (albeit dozens of leagues away) in which Sofia had attempted to drown him.

But those were foolish reasons for tossing and turning about like a decapitated worm.

While Arthur tried to calm his mind, Gwaine's racket continued, and Merlin rolled over in his sleep onto his back. With a small snort, Merlin began snoring, adding dissonance to the horrid melody floating around the remains of the campfire.

"Merlin!" Arthur hissed. "Merlin!"

His manservant remained infuriatingly oblivious.

Weren't fae supposed to be light sleepers? They seemed like they should have been. Merlin was always present at ungodly hours of the morning to wake him up.

"Blast it," Arthur muttered to himself as he threw his blanket off. If he couldn't sleep, he would tire himself out by taking a short walk through the woods. Although it was probably best to wake up one of the knights (and he was definitely tempted to "accidentally" trip over the metal pan by Merlin's bedroll on his way past), he decided not to. They were tired after their work that afternoon in the outlying village and the long ride back to Camelot. Instead, he snagged Leon's crossbow as he crept by him on his way out of the circle.

With a few trees between them, the volume of the snoring greatly diminished. As he threaded the crossbow, Arthur told himself that he would check the horses and then go back.

His feet, however, did not listen.

Almost as though he were under a fae's spell (but he wasn't - he would never forget that feeling), they led him down a deer path, through the leaves into a lighter patch of wood where the air smelled like honeysuckles.

The moon was trickling light through the gaps in the leaves up above, dancing as it fell to the forest floor.

Arthur halted.

Ahead of him, the moonlight illuminated a white figure.

It was a good thing he had brought the crossbow, he thought. He would shoot first rather than be taken in by another Sofia, and no human in his or her sane mind would be dressed in pure white out in the middle of the woods where fae freely roamed.

As he raised the bow, he realized what a fool he had been to leave the safe circle. Although Uther's hunts had greatly diminished the chance of running into a fae, the possibility did not completely disappear.

Fie, Merlin was proof of that.

He had to kill the fae before it realized he was there.

The figure moved.

It wasn't a fae, after all. It appeared to be a horse. At first he thought it was one of their own that had escaped from Merlin's ridiculously complicated knots, but...none of their steeds were such a pure color.

Arthur took another step forward, squinting even though the picture was as clear as if it were illuminated by sunlight.

It raised its head to look at him, soft eyes meeting his.

The movement revealed a sharp horn protruding from the middle of its forehead.

Arthur let out a soft exclamation. A unicorn. Although he had seen many renditions by artists in books, he had never laid eyes on one of the magical creatures.

A unicorn.

Curiously, it took a step towards Arthur, setting one silver hoof soundlessly on the dead leaves between them.

It was beautiful. It was a being Arthur could fall in love with if he let himself.

No.

If Merlin saw it...at that moment, Merlin wasn't planning to kill Arthur as far as he could tell. But what if he saw the unicorn? What if it lured him off to the Court? What if it woke a latent desire to kill Arthur and return to his people?

It was magical. Magic could not create something breathtaking without it also being minacious.

No, he could not let it get Merlin in its clutches. He did not trust Merlin completely as it was, but if Merlin became familiar with this creature-

Without a second thought, he raised the crossbow and fired.

Letting out a scream of pain, the unicorn collapsed forward onto its front knees.

Behind him, something cracked in the forest. Arthur whirled around, whipping up the crossbow again to defend himself from an attack from behind.

It was only Merlin.

Sighing with relief, he lowered the weapon. "Merlin! What are you doing out here? You scared me half to death." Back at the camp, Merlin had been as dead to the world as a corpse.

Merlin was as white as one of Arthur's washed sheets. He looked as though the next gust of wind passing through the trees would knock him over, and his eyes were fixated on the dead unicorn behind Arthur.

"Merlin?" Arthur repeated, alarm rising in him. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, Arthur," Merlin finally answered in a flat whisper. "What have you done?"

…

Head bowed, Merlin crouched over the body of the unicorn, stroking its white hair with the barest tips of his fingers.

As Arthur watched, a drop of water fell from his face, mingling with the silver blood on the ground. The merged liquids shimmered before fading.

"I-" Arthur felt as though he should say something. Should he apologize? He wasn't necessarily sorry for killing the creature, but Merlin was acting as though it were a tragedy.

"Don't," Merlin snapped with a harsh voice. "Be silent."

Arthur bristled at the rebuke.

Merlin looked up. "You don't know what you've done, have you?"

"No," Arthur confessed, "Not really. I only did what anyone loyal to Camelot could have done."

Merlin splayed his hands over the unicorn's side. "I don't even know what you've done, Arthur. I don't think. You've broken something."

"Broken something?" Arthur had done a little more than simply break something. He knew Merlin didn't like blood, but this was a bit much.

"Yes, broken something. There are laws, Arthur."

Arthur breathed in deeply through his nose. "What, exactly, Merlin, did I break? You're talking like a madman." He was making Arthur feel uncomfortable.

"A law!" Merlin stood. "You cannot kill a unicorn, Arthur. I haven't been to the Court - at least, I don't think - but even I know that there is a cost! Do you think that fae are going to let this pass? You killed one of our-" Merlin choked on his words. "You killed it." He crouched by the unicorn's side and began to stroke its side again, tracing a pattern with its finger.

The more Merlin spoke, the more alarmed Arthur became. "What kind of cost?"

"I don't know," Merlin whispered, his voice slightly terrified, "I really don't know, Arthur. You could forfeit your life."

His life? Arthur knew fae were ridiculous, but that was a bit much. "What do you mean, my life?" he demanded. "A horse for my life? That's hardly a fair trade."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "You know, for - and I quote - being 'trained since birth to kill,' you really know nothing about your enemy."

Arthur was insulted. "You hardly seem to know anything, either, Merlin. Why is killing a magical horse such an offense? What did I do?"

"Well, why was it attacking you?" Merlin asked. "Did you provoke it or something?"

"It wasn't attacking me," Arthur clarified.

"Then why did you kill it?"

He could hardly explain that to Merlin. Merlin wouldn't understand. He couldn't.

The blood leaking onto the ground glowed again, briefly, and Merlin raised his head to sniff the air.

Cautiously, Arthur watched him although he would have preferred if Merlin stepped away from the unicorn's body to avoid any side effects. "What's happening?" he asked harshly. "What's going on with the blood?"

"You cannot stop it. You cannot end it. You can only finish what you've begun," Merlin inflected tonelessly. "He cometh."

Heart beating out of his chest, Arthur scrambled to get as far away from Merlin as possible.

This was it. Merlin had finally tipped over the edge and was going to kill him over the unicorn. He shouldn't have trusted-

"Stop running, Pendragon." A voice ordered.

It wasn't Merlin's.

Chest heaving, Arthur obeyed. He would rather die facing his executioner than be stabbed through the back like a fleeing coward.

Unless Merlin took action, the knights would be clueless about what was going on. He hoped they would have the sense to realize he would not be returning to the campfire and escape the forest as soon as possible before the fae decided to kill them, too, for Arthur's deed.

He turned around.

In between Merlin and the dead unicorn and Arthur stood a white-robed figure, its face shrouded by a hood.

Behind him, Merlin made a motion with his hands, like he was trying to push himself up using air off the ground.

Arthur sent him a confused look, so he did it again.

Oh. He wanted Arthur to kneel.

Indecision raged through him. It was never a good thing to anger fae, but Arthur wasn't an ordinary citizen of Camelot. He was the crown prince. Surely that equated to some form of royalty in their minds?

"Arthur, kneel," Merlin hissed.

The white figure did not acknowledge Merlin's words.

Begrudgingly, Arthur knelt.

"I am Anhora, guardian of the unicorns," the figure proceeded as soon as Arthur's knee touched the dirt. "You have killed one of my creatures and must pay the price."

Arthur didn't know how to respond. Was he supposed to accept the condemnation or defend himself? He could hardly deny it - the corpse was lying in the woods behind him.

Was he supposed to let this fae kill him?

Then again, what could he do to stop it?

Would Merlin?

Merlin seemed slightly interested or concerned about the proceedings. His brow furrowed as he got to his feet.

"Young fae." Anhora turned around to face him, leaving his back exposed to Arthur.

He looked down at the crossbow still clutched in his hands. Although he was tempted to shoot Anhora, he doubted he could load it and set the tension without him noticing.

"Anhora," Merlin returned. "Have we met before?"

A rumble of a laugh emitted from Anhora's chest.

What in fae was Merlin doing?

"We have. But you more than likely do not remember me, Em-"

"Right," Merlin interrupted him, nearly giving Arthur a heart attack at his blatant disrespect. "I apologize that I do not remember our past acquaintance. I beseech you to look around, Anhora, and to see if there is another path that you might follow. The forest is lovely tonight."

Arthur was truly flabbergasted. Merlin was asking Anhora to take a stroll?

He was going to get them ruddy killed if not-

"You cannot evade the moon. It will rise and set with the sun. The day has been spent, and no one, not even you, can hold back the coming of the night."

"Please," Merlin begged. "Aren't some days longer than others? Aren't some nights shorter than others? Don't storms come, don't-"

Anhora raised a hand, cutting Merlin off. "Only a shadow would curse the moon."

"But what if the shadow is blind?" Merlin persisted. "Would you credit it against him for not knowing what he sees?"

The longer they spoke, the more panicked Arthur because although he would never show it. No wonder Merlin was confusing most of the time - the deeper into the conversation Merlin and Anhora went, the deeper Arthur sunk into hopelessness and bewilderment.

Anhora raised a finger. "There would have to be proof."

"Give us time, and I will show you proof," Merlin vowed. "The blind may see."

The bolder, angrier side of Arthur suggested he demand to know to what they were referring, but he kept his mouth closed since it seemed Merlin was pleading his case for him.

He just wasn't sure how well.

"And why should I?" Anhora asked, tilting his head to the side, his back still to Arthur.

"Because of the Once and Future King."

Silence.

Arthur barely allowed himself to breathe.

"I see," Anhora finally said. "Very well. I shall give him two chances - one for the moon, one for the sun, and none for the stars. If he fails…"

Merlin bowed. "Thank you, Guardian."

Anhora let out another rumble in acceptance. "It is a pity that you cannot come to the Court, Emrys. They would enjoy you if not for what happened."

Merlin frowned. "What? I don't remember. What happened?"

As though a shadow had passed over, Anhora disappeared.

…

Arthur stared down at his hands. In between his fingers, grains of sand slid, almost as fine as silk.

All of the water in Camelot was sand.

"Where's Merlin?" he asked Elyan over his shoulder.

"Did he cause this, sire?" Elyan asked.

"Blast it if I know," Arthur snapped. "Just get him for me wherever he is."

It was a lie.

Arthur was certain that the sand was because of the unicorn he had killed. Somewhere in the confusing conversation between Anhora and Merlin, he should have picked up on the fact that there would be greater consequences.

"What do we tell the people, sire?" Percival asked. "Several have already asked where they may fill their buckets."

Well, it looked like Merlin was going to get out of filling up his bath that evening.

"I don't know yet. I'll decide after I speak with Merlin."

Ha. What a state he had come to. Consulting with an idiot - who was also a fae - before he made a decision. His father would be disgusted.

It was a good thing his father wasn't around.

Merlin materialized at his side. "Yes, sire?"

A little tension left his spine. "Merlin. Do you notice any problems around here?"

Merlin let out a soft sigh. "Do I need to punch another hole in your belt?"

A flash of anger rising in him, Arthur stiffened. "Are you trying to be funny? If you haven't been paying attention, there are more important matters. Look. Sand."

Merlin looked down. "Ah. Sand. Anhora has a sense of humor. The moon. Sand. How perfect."

Arthur scooped up a handful and thrust it at Merlin, grains cascading out between his fingers. "Can you fix this?"

"In public?"

Arthur glanced around. Although the knights were doing a fine job of keeping people out of earshot, they weren't out of eyeshot. "Tonight. Can you fix it tonight?"

"I can try," Merlin offered hesitantly.

That was good enough for Arthur. "Leon, I want you to lead an expedition to the river by the plain. Bring back as much water as you can. Take Gwaine and Percival with you."

"Right away, sire."

Even though he was no longer touching it, Arthur could still feel the sand underneath his fingernails.

…

Merlin's magic could not fix it. He was fae, he explained, but even he was unable to bend this law. This time.

The knights could not bring back enough water to quench all the parched throats of Camelot. As he lay in bed, Arthur heard the cries of the thirsty.

…

Arthur stood on the top of the castle, hands resting on the stood of the balustrade.

"I don't get it, Merlin," he said. "Why punish Camelot for one unicorn?"

It didn't make sense. Why threaten the existence of the entire country because of one act?

"I think you know," Merlin remarked quietly. "Or at least, the answer is buried somewhere in that thick skull of yours."

For once, Merlin's insults were devoid of humor.

…

Fire burned along the edges of Camelot, turning the horizon into a haze of reddish smoke.

"Merlin, I need you to promise me that you did not do this," Arthur said.

"I didn't."

"Why is Anhora doing this, then? I thought he was supposed to test me. Whatever that means."

"He didn't do it."

"Then who in fae did?" he demanded, running a hand through his hair.

Merlin looked at him sadly. "It was you, Arthur."

…

Arthur tried to kill the grain thief.

He disappeared in a flash of smoke.

…

Merlin was right, of course.

As food rotted in warehouses, the weaker and elderly began to die. Slowly, at first, but the numbers increased too much to go unnoticed.

Uther was in an uproar, demanded searches for fae throughout the city to destroy the root of the problem.

And Arthur realized that he was the cause of their predicament. If he had refrained from shooting the unicorn, none of them would be facing future starvation.

It was his fault.

And he would have to make amends with Anhora. Perhaps...if he offered up something of equal value to the unicorn's life, Anhora would be lenient on Camelot. He could save the rest of its people.

"Where are you going?"

"Fie!" Arthur smacked his head on the fireplace. "Merlin, what in fae are you doing up at this hour? How did you sneak up here?" The hour was turning midnight, and Merlin usually complained about having to stay any later than ten.

Peeking in through the crack in the door, Merlin made a face. "I didn't sneak."

Whatever, he decided. He didn't have the time to discuss semantics with Merlin. "I am going to the forest to find Anhora."

"You can't kill him, Arthur, if that's what you're planning," Merlin said, coming further into the room.

"I'm not," Arthur replied grimly as he picked up his sword.

"Really?"

"I'm going to ask him to…"

"I'm coming with you."

The last thing he wanted was for Merlin to have to explain to his father why he was lugging the dead body of the prince of Camelot back to the castle. "No, you are not. You are staying here, and that's an order. I have to go alone."

Merlin lifted his eyebrows defiantly. "And what makes you think you're going to be able to keep me here?"

The thought of shackling Merlin in the dungeons crossed his mind, but he quickly dismissed it. That would be cruel. "You cannot stop me," he said. "You yourself said I did it."

"Technically, I did not."

Was Merlin really going to stand there and debate the semantics of language with Arthur?

After hesitating for a moment, Arthur set his sword back down and made for the door. At Merlin, he paused. "Goodbye, Merlin," he said, slapping his manservant on the shoulder.

"Good night, Arthur."

…

The trees were a moving labyrinth.

As Arthur trudged along, he gathered the feeling that they were leading him on a twisted path with no beginning and no ending. It was definitely of fae design.

"Hello?" he called out every once in a while into the mist that wrapped around the leaves. "Anhora? Guardian?"

No reply came. He was left to keep marching forward and hope that Anhora would let him find him soon.

For ten more minutes, he walked on, feeling more hopeless and angry as he went. Didn't Anhora recognize that people were dying?

Arthur rounded another corner. At last, the trees formed a solid path that pointed Arthur straight forwards towards an empty grassy space where a table with two chairs was set up. As Arthur drew nearer, he could distinguish two goblets sitting on top of a red table cloth.

In one of the chairs sat the white-robed unicorn guardian, glowing from an inner light.

Even when Arthur approached, he did not move, but greeted him with, "Pendragon."

Arthur swallowed.

"Take a seat."

"Thank you." Arthur sat down in one of the chairs.

Clasping his hands, Anhora leaned forward on the table in front of him. "I thought you would come."

"Listen." Arthur crossed his arms. "I'm not sure what nonsense you and Merlin were talking about with the moon and the sun and two tries, but I've come to make amends for the creature I killed."

"I know."

"What do I have to do?"

Anhora nudged one of the goblets forward and withdrew two casks from the folds of his robe. "One of these is filled with poison. The other is not. Both of the bottles are identical. Although I may know which is which, you do not. Pour one into the goblets, and if you perish, the people of Camelot will be saved."

"You are risking your own life?" Arthur found it difficult to believe that Anhora would give such an option.

Anhora smiled, setting both casks gently on the table in front of him.

Blood pounding through his ears, Arthurs stared at the bottles, wondering if there was a way to ensure their salvation. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine the growing havok.

Without asking Anhora permission, he grabbed both casks and emptied their contents into his own goblet.

"Arthur, wait! Don't drink it!"

Arthur startled.

Anhora's head snapped up.

Merlin ran down the labyrinth's path towards them, nearly tripping over his own feet as he closed the last feet between him in the table. Panting heavily, he leaned on it. "Arthur, don't. Let me drink it."

"The trees should not have let you in," Anhora hissed.

"The trees happen to like me," Merlin told him petulantly, still panting. "Now give me the goblet."

"No. I thought I told you to stay behind!" Arthur picked up the goblet and stood, backing away from Merlin to put as much distance between them as possible without leaving the area. "You've drunk poison for me once. This time, I caused it, and I'm going to fix it." Before more people died of starvation.

"He failed the two chances," Anhora reminded Merlin sternly. "This is the only way to remedy the situation in the eyes of the Court."

"For the love of Freya," Merlin swore like a sailor, making Anhora twitch in surprise.

Arthur closed his eyes for a moment. There was no reason for Merlin to want to drink it for him. Arthur was the one who had killed the unicorn. Arthur was the one who attacked the man stealing the grain. Arthur was the one who had caused all of this. Even if he hadn't known the rules of the Court...it had been foolish to kill the unicorn simply to keep Merlin from passing into its world.

He saw that now, but it was too late.

He downed the goblet.

"Arthur!"

…

He awoke with dirt in his face and Merlin apologizing to his body.

"I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to drop you this time, but you're rather heavy. We might need to cut back on the sausages."

"Don't," he grunted.

"Arthur? Oh, good, you're awake."

Awake? Shouldn't he have been dead?

"Do you think you can get to your feet?"

Instead of replying, Arthur gradually pushed himself off the ground. He felt groggy, like the time he broke his arm and Gaius had given him some poppy juice. "What happened?" he asked, rubbing the back of his head.

Merlin pursed his lips. "Anhora is a clotpole. Apparently, your willingness to drink both of the potions was enough to reverse it."

"Oh...good."

"I'm not carrying you the rest of the way back to Camelot," Merlin told him a trifle sourly.

"You could barely lift a sack of flour," Arthur retorted, still getting over the fact that he was alive, "and I don't need your help."

Merlin harrumphed. "Good. I'll just leave you to get dressed on your own tomorrow morning, then, since you don't need me."

Unsteadily, Arthur took a few steps forward to test his head before determining that he was correct about not needing Merlin.

At least, not needing him that much.

"Arthur, look," Merlin whispered suddenly, grabbing his arm. "Over there."

"What?" To see more clearly, Arthur rubbed some of the sleep out of his eyes and followed where Merlin's finger was pointing.

In between the trees stood a magnificent white horse, a horn proudly protruding from its head. On its chest where Arthur's crossbolt had been buried was a patch of darker hair. The unicorn shook its mane, sending water droplets flying through the air.

It had been reversed.

For several minutes, they stared at it, before it wheeled around and galloped back into the forest.

"Merlin?" Awkwardly, Arthur cleared his throat, grabbing an overhead tree branch for support. "Thank you. For being willing to drink poison. Again. Even if you didn't actually do anything."

Merlin snorted in amusement. For a while, he stared at Arthur, tilting his head to the side, before he cryptically remarked, "You're getting there, Arthur. You're getting there."