AN: I apologize in advance if this seems rushed. Long week full of craziness and not much time for writing. BUT I made my Saturday deadline!

Anyways, this chapter contains a moment I think many of you have been waiting for... sooo... enjoy! And let me know if you like how I played the scene out!

I didn't get much response on the last chapter, so if you've got time, I'd love some feedback on how I'm doing. I know it's silly, but I'm always encouraged to hear from my readers, even if it's a short note.

I know, ANs are boring, so... on with the show!

"Arthur is not giving any statements." Merlin's voice was uncharacteristically sharp. Gwen caught a glimpse of Arthur's blond hair and followed it and the sound of Merlin's voice, trying to keep her chin up as he pushed past a sturdy young man with his camera. Even being around Arthur, she had rarely encountered a flurry of media like this. Having Leon around had its perks; the body-guard knew how to chase off tenacious reporters. Right now, Guinevere wished he were there. How had the press found Arthur here anyways?

"Are you speaking for him, Astur?" Some attention had diverted to the dark haired student.

"It looks like you've seen some of the actions," another interjected. "Can you tell us anything about it?" Merlin's face was still smudged with ash, and he looked nearly dead on his feet. But his blue eyes were still flint-hard.

"No comment," he bit out as Gwen wriggled her way through the press and reached her friends.

"Let's go," she murmured as Merlin clamped a hand on Arthur's opposite arm. The sooner they got out of this crowd, the better!

"Arthur Pendragon," Gwen gritted her teeth. A single reporter—slim woman several inches taller than Gwen, placed herself brazenly in front of the three students, and she lifted a pair of startlingly blue eyes to Arthur's face, a small, secretive smile sparkling in them. "A dragon seems a difficult creature to miss." Gwen slipped her arm through Arthur's and tried to move around the woman, but she stepped sideways to block his way. "People are claiming that your father has let his guard slip—that there should be a more interrogations—that those under suspicion should be apprehended before other incidents like this occur—"

"No." Arthur cut over her abruptly. "Sorcery may be an evil, but so is injustice. We cannot consider people guilty until proven innocent."

"Arthur!" A flurry of activity followed the statement. Half a dozen voice recorders surged closer.
"Can you give us a statement on your father's execution of—"

"Do you believe the policies on—"

"No comment!" Merlin's voice was short and clipped, but it carried. There were still shouts, calls for Arthur's attention, and far too many people crowded about them.

"Come on." Gwen gripped Arthur's arm tight. "They can't follow you inside," she whispered, trying to navigate Arthur past them before they plied him with any more questions.

"Mr. Pendragon!" The blue-eyed woman reached out to catch at Arthur's other arm and stop him from leaving. Gwen didn't even see the movement. Before she knew what was happening, Merlin had placed himself between Arthur and the reporter, and his fingers encircled her wrist in a strong grip. His eyes were alight with a fire Gwen never imagined seeing in his expression.

"Leave him alone." His voice was low and laced with potent warning.

"Merlin," Arthur hissed and grabbed his friend by the back of his shirt. Merlin let the reporter go, never taking his eyes from her face. Gwen expected a startled look in the young woman's face. Instead, she was meeting Merlin's eyes with a matching look of open hostility that made the hair on Gwen's scalp prickle. It was as if they knew each other. Arthur cinched his hold on Merlin tight, and Gwen never let go of his arm until she'd steered them both inside the apartment building.

Gwen shut the door firmly behind them, and she and Arthur let out a simultaneous breath of relief.

"Merlin…" Arthur turned on him with a frown. "I know they're bloody annoying, but you can't treat reporters like that. They'll prosecute if you grab them like that." Merlin ignored him and headed straight up the stairs for Gwen's apartment. His eyes had lost none of their fire, and every line of his body read tension and anger. Arthur and Gwen exchanged a glance and followed him up. "They're not going to break the door down. I promise," Arthur told Merlin, sinking onto the couch while Gwen hovered anxiously by the door, watching her two friends. Merlin didn't even make it there. As soon as he'd shot the deadbolt home, he leaned against the wall with his eyes closed, his body slumped, as if he might slide down to the floor after a moment.

"Merlin?" He opened one eye halfway. Gwen put a hand on his arm and steered him away from the wall, her brow creased with concern. What had Merlin been doing that left dark circles like this under his eyes? "There's a towel under the bathroom sink. Go get yourself cleaned up. I'll see what I can find for you to eat when you get back," she said gently. Merlin was in poor shape to argue with any offer of assistance. He gave her a tired but grateful smile.

"Thanks, Gwen. You're brilliant." She squeezed his arm and sent him towards the bathroom with a gentle nudge in the right direction.

Why is it never so simple with you? Gwen wondered, turning her attention back on Arthur. He didn't look as worn as Merlin, but something was troubling him. He sat with his head propped on one hand, pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to stave off a headache. She crossed the room quietly and sat down on the couch beside him.

"Are you alright?" she asked. Arthur sighed heavily.

"I shouldn't have said anything," he murmured. "That… what I just said… it'll be all over the news tomorrow."

"You said nothing wrong, Arthur." He shook his head.

"I'm never supposed to make statements related to my father's current or future policies. If he chooses to initiate another series of interrogations now, I'll be quoted everywhere."

"You should be," Gwen said firmly. "If you believe that your father's policies are wrong, you should speak against them. You wouldn't do so if it wasn't important." Arthur turned his head just a fraction to look at her, and the expression in his eyes tugged at her heart. "Arthur." She reached out and her hand touched his wrist. He went very still, and she wondered whether she should pull her hand away again. Things had been more comfortable before—when they used to sit and talk for hours: outside, at cafes, over dinner. Arthur had grown more relaxed with her. She'd listened to his troubles so many times, as he'd often listened to hers, and other times they'd taken silent comfort from the companionship, if it were only a hand to hold or a shoulder to lean on. Even if Arthur said their relationship had been 'nothing serious', she was a friend to him. "What's wrong? What happened?" Let me help. His eyes lingered on her hand resting over his.

"I don't know what I'm doing anymore," he said quietly.

"Tell me," Gwen said, withdrawing her hand again. And somewhat to her surprise, he did.

There was more to the story than Gwen had even guessed in a stretch of imagination. He told her everything he hadn't told her before when he'd arrived at her flat so early in the morning: about Merlin who'd never come back the night before—more concerning still in light of his recent behavior—about the 'dragon lord' they were supposed to find; about the Druid who he'd first met when he helped Mordred escape Camelot, and everything from the first day of classes when he saw Iseldir Sellers to his conversation tonight and what the Druid had told him and Merlin. Gwen listened attentively with knitted brows, watching his expression. When he finally fell silent again, she waited a moment, letting him quietly process all the emotions that were warring inside of him before she spoke. Merlin worried her… They both worried her. But she fixed for the moment on what was most immediate.

"You and Merlin are going to this Spinster's rock then?" He nodded.

"Do we have a choice?" Arthur sighed. "We're only back here now because Merlin insisted on waiting for Gaius." Gwen's mouth thinned to a line.

"I don't know, Arthur… I think this dragon can be held at bay by the air forces right now. He must have found a place to lie low once the military planes were up, because there haven't been any more attacks… But we can't detect him with any equipment, and we can't have the entire skyline of Camelot patrolled twenty-four seven. It would take more manpower and funding than we've got." Arthur nodded. "The dragon is clearly intelligent," Gwen continued. "He started by attacking areas where Uther was likely to be, and he won't limit himself to Camelot long. We can't see him, and he can be anywhere at any time. If he could destroy your father's whole block the way he did, he could choose to terrorize this whole country."

"I know… We have to try," Arthur sighed. "Merlin seems very certain that this will work."

"But you're not," Gwen confirmed. Arthur lifted his shoulders.

"This dragon lord… he's a sorcerer, Guinevere. How can we possibly trust him? You know what magic can do. Just look at what the dragon has done already." He pressed his fingertips to his temple. "And the Druids… I promised I'd keep them secret: a whole community of sorcerers. My father's been looking for them for years. Our country is at war with them, and now I know where they are, and I've promised not to give them away." He shook his head. "What have I done?" Oh Arthur… Gwen gently pried his hand away from his face.

"What you've done is the right thing. These people—these refugees… they could be like my father, or like Gaius; men who were falsely accused and forced to flee."

"And what if they're not?" Arthur hunched his shoulders, inspecting his hands which he'd settled on his knees. "What if my father is right?"

"He's not," Gwen said firmly. Sometimes she hated Uther for this—for everything he'd taught Arthur that made the man doubt his own good intentions in this way. "Arthur," she laced a hint of insistence into her voice. "Your father is making an assumption about human nature—that a man, given the power, will choose to act according to his desires and without regard for law and morals." She put a hand on Arthur's cheek and turned his head so he met her gaze. "You remember the question—whether the just individual truly exists or is merely a social construct." She was pleased to see the conflict dissolve from his eyes at her words and a smile play across his lips.

"How could I possibly forget?" he asked. Gwen smiled back. Arthur was ever the eloquent and staunch defender of justice and the just man himself, and so he had been in class, in his own work, even in private discussions.

"I know you don't believe what your father says. That's why you were willing to give the Druid boy a second chance. And it's why you will give the Druid refugees and this 'Balinor' the benefit of the doubt," she said quietly. "You have a good heart, Arthur. You shouldn't ignore it."

"You believe that?" Arthur asked slowly, the faint smile still lingering on his face.

"Of course I do," she said. And as if those words were the permission he'd been waiting for, Arthur leaned forward, and pressed his lips to hers.

Gwen didn't get a chance to respond. It lasted barely a second before he drew back.

"Is that what you meant?" he said. Gwen drew in a tiny breath. Everything she'd thought or meant to say had flown out of her mind. She couldn't take her eyes off of him. A tentative question was written in his face, the half-masked fear that he'd made a mistake… and yet it was accompanied by the small, endearing grin she was so familiar with. She felt a pang deep in her chest. She'd missed this—missed him. She laughed and threaded her fingers through his soft, golden hair, pulling him close, and kissed him back fervently. Arthur let out a soft hum of contentment; his free arm wrapped around her waist, and she tilted her head back as he deepened the kiss.

Clink. Both of them broke apart, breathless and startled. In the doorway to the kitchen, Merlin froze, his dark hair standing up in unruly, wet spikes, and a damp towel draped around his neck. Gwen felt the heat rising to her face and a cursory glance at Arthur revealed the same reaction. Merlin, on the other hand, didn't even have the grace to look embarrassed. He resumed his previous occupation and took a casual bite of the sandwich he was holding.

"Don't mind me. You two just carry on," he said over the mouthful, lifting the sandwich in a gesture reminiscent of toast.

"Merlin!" Arthur snarled, and a couch pillow spun across the room towards his friend's head. Merlin somehow managed to duck it without dropping his cup and plate int he other hand, and a characteristic impish grin broke across his face.

"What? I was hungry! I set the kettle on to boil if anyone else wants a cup of coffee." His eyes gleamed. "Anyway, I was just going to go down and look for Gaius. He'll be here in a moment."

"Wh—Gaius is here?" Arthur's eyes widened. "Why didn't you say something?"

"Just did," Merlin said brightly. Arthur made a dive for the book perched on the back of Gwen's couch.

"Arthur!" Gwen reproved, snatching the book away from him, but Merlin, with instinct born from years of living with Arthur, had already made his escape around the corner. He peered around briefly to add,

"Can we call a cease fire? I need to rescue Gaius from the media down there."

"Don't worry, Merlin. I've got him." Gwen laughed, wrapping her arms around Arthur. Merlin still kept a suspicious look on Arthur as he sidled through the room and opened the door.

"Glad you two finally figured things out," he said as he put the door between himself and his flatmate. "I was getting tired of Arthur moping around about Lance." Arthur squirmed free of Gwen's grip and, deprived of the book, lobbed the remaining pillow at Merlin. It hit the door with a heavy thump. Gwen couldn't help it. She burst into a fit of laughter clung to Arthur, leaning her forehead against his shoulder.

"Guinevere—" Arthur's tone of voice was enough to make Gwen smother her mirth briefly and peer up at him. His eyes were wide with unexpected gravity and a touch of guilt. "What about—"

"Lance?" Gwen interrupted, sobering. Arthur blinked and nodded mutely. Gwen pursed her lips. It wasn't as if she'd never thought about it, but things had never been the same with him… he and Arthur were simply so different. "Lance is a very dear friend. We both spend a lot of time up at the medical school and have classes together, but going out for coffee a couple times doesn't make me his girlfriend." The tension drained out of Arthur's shoulders.

"Oh." He looked so utterly relieved that it made Gwen smile again.

"Oh." She echoed, trying not to start laughing at his expression, but when she looked at him, she saw her own amusement reflected in his eyes. Arthur leaned forward so his breath tickled the strands of hair around her ear.

"And… does this?"

"Arthur," Gwen put her hands on his chest and shoved him back, trying to ignore his charming little smile and gleam in his eyes. Much as she wanted to keep him here—to talk so many, many things out that they'd left unsaid for a long time… There were more pressing matters at stake. "Come on. You and Merlin need to get going. You can take my car. It's round the back," she said, standing. She heard Merlin and Gaius' voices in the hallway outside the door, just audible but not clear enough to make out words. They both sounded agitated.

"Gwen," Arthur put a hand on her arm. "What about the reporters? And Leon? He's supposed to 'check in' on me today."

"We'll go out the back—through the fire escape. You and Merlin can take the side streets and avoid the reporters," Gwen improvised. She reached down to take his hand, suppressing a wave of anxiety as she let her thumb graze the dark bruise on his wrist from the IV. "Leave Leon to me and Gaius. You just focus on what you need to do."

"Why was I never told?" Merlin struggled to keep an even voice. His hands were curled into fists inside the pockets of his blue jacket. His whole life—his whole life he'd never even heard the name Balinor.

"Merlin…We didn't know whether he was dead or alive. Hunith was afraid you might try to look for him. It was a risk we preferred not to take. It's better that you aren't tied to names like his." Names like his… Merlin's jaw set. It made his father sound like a common criminal… and yet it was true. He would never have gotten his travel papers for Camelot if he'd been acknowledged as the offspring of a known sorcerer.

"Arthur!" Gwen reappeared to clamber down the fire escape, holding a thin book in her hand. "It's right here." Merlin clenched his teeth in frustration. That was his cue. Gwen had brought maps to avoid using a possibly-bugged wireless mobile phone for directions, and she'd handed Arthur the car keys. But Merlin lingered a moment longer.

"Why are you telling me now?" he asked.

"You are his son." Gaius put a hand on his nephew's arm. "But more importantly, you are Hunith's son. I see so much of her in you... and that may be your only hope of changing his mind," his uncle added softly. When Merlin didn't answer, Gaius's hand shifted to rest on his shoulder. "Merlin… I'm sorry." The warlock bowed his head. He wasn't going to part ways with Gaius on poor terms, but it rankled a little that he'd been kept in the dark this long… about so many things.

"It's fine… it really doesn't matter." Hollow words; Merlin knew his expression spoke otherwise. His uncle smiled and gave him a half hug, squeezing his shoulder.

"We'll have time to speak later. You should go." His expression became serious. "Arthur really shouldn't be going anywhere. He's supposed to be recovering." Merlin's gaze strayed to Arthur's blond head bowed over the man next to Gwen's currently unruly curls as she helped plot out their route.

"You try and talk him out of it," he said with a small shake of his head. Once Arthur took psychological responsibility for a situation, there was no stopping him from seeing it through.

"Are you sure he'll take this well?"

"He will," Merlin answered quietly with a surge of pride. He'd never been more sure of anything. "He's the one who found our Druid after all." He wondered whether the frown that creased Gaius' brow was concern for Arthur's actions or his health. But the physician only put a hand on Merlin's arm and smiled.

"Be careful then. And look after him."

"I always do," Merlin said, smiling back. "Don't worry. We'll be back by afternoon."

"Merlin!" Arthur tossed the map book at him out the window of the car. "Are you coming or not?" Merlin fumbled it and rolled his eyes.

"Yes, yes," he grumbled and picked it up off the ground. Gaius patted him on the shoulder.

"Go on—before those reporters get the bright idea to come exploring around the apartment." Gwen reached through the open car window to squeeze Arthur's hand.

"If your dad calls or messages, you're in Cambridge visiting Morgana."

Despite his best efforts, Merlin still felt a twinge of biting jealousy as he climbed into the car and watched Gwen's fingers slowly disentangle themselves from Arthur's so he could pull out onto the street. Ironic, that it had taken Arthur's near death for the two of them to see what they had been too blind or stubborn to recognize. He'd been blind too… but not as lucky.

"So," Arthur broke the silence minutes after they'd left the apartment, Gaius, and Gwen behind. "Are you going to explain where you vanished to yesterday in such a tearing hurry?"

"Nope," Merlin replied in a clipped tone. A long silence followed. "You're turning right here." Arthur acknowledged the instruction with a nod and flicked his turn-signal on.

"Something's been bothering you, hasn't it?"

"Maybe." Drop it, Arthur, please. Of course, Arthur didn't.

"Your exams?" he suggested. Merlin huffed. "I know, it was stressful for you and Gwen and… everyone—me being sick on top of everything else."

"I think you got the short end of the stick on that one, Arthur," Merlin said dismissively, but a slight smile curled at his lips. It was almost like an apology. Almost.

"I don't know about that. I got an extension on my exams, Morgana's talking to me again, and Lance says I'm a walking miracle for recovering this fast after being so sick." Merlin's smile grew, and he allowed himself a small rush of pride.

"A walking miracle?" Merlin echoed. "I think I'll have to talk to Lance. Your head's big enough without Lance inflating it." Arthur shot him a fleeting scowl.

"Merlin… You know what I mean. It doesn't make sense. Dr. Collins and Gaius both said I was too far gone. I shouldn't have come back." Merlin shrugged. He didn't like to think about how close they'd come to losing Arthur… all because he hadn't recognized that blue-eyed, dark haired woman and her golden eyes. He was damned if he'd let her near Arthur again—secretary, waitress, reporter, or any other guise she appeared in.

"Magic," he said offhandedly. He snapped his mouth shut at once, feeling foolish, but Arthur only let out a small laugh.

"My father at least believes that exists. He always said he didn't believe in miracles." Merlin shifted in his seat to study the blond though still with a hint of caution, encouraged nonetheless by Arthur's good humor.

"If it was magic—" Arthur exhaled, a derisive, incredulous sound, but Merlin quickly pressed on before his courage had time to trickle away. "If some sorcerer—like… Iseldir maybe—had come to heal you… what would you do?" Merlin stuffed his hands under his legs to keep himself from toying with his scarf as he was wont to do when the subject of magic came up. Arthur's fingers drummed on the steering wheel and he blew out a breath.

"I suppose," Arthur said slowly. He paused, and Merlin bit his lip, trying desperately to tell himself that Arthur's answer didn't mean anything to him… didn't matter at all. "That I would say thank you," Arthur finished. The warlock beside him had to keep himself from letting out a half-euphoric, half-hysterical little laugh of joy. He turned his face towards the window to hide the smile that spread across his face. You're welcome, Arthur.

Just under three hours was more than long enough for Merlin, tired as he was, to doze with his head tucked against the plastic door-siding. He drifted out of consciousness a few times when he wasn't giving Arthur directions. The map made him want to close his eyes and let himself sink into a deep, soothing sleep. He was tantalizingly close when Arthur interrupted him for the final time.

"There it is."

"Hmmm?" Merlin lifted his cheek from the car door and rubbed it. "Are you sure?" It was rather anticlimactic all things considered. Arthur pulled the car over to the roadside.

"You're on navigation," he retorted. Merlin rolled his eyes but flipped the map open obligingly for Arthur to inspect.

"Yeah… this is the spot." He pursed his lips.

"People live here?" Arthur intoned, and he leaned out the window to peer at the spectacle across the road from the little monument.

Merlin had the impression that once, many years ago, Spinster's Rock had stood by a picturesque little neighborhood—one built beside a tame little road lined with hedge, the houses alongside it neat and clean, interspersed with a couple of barn-sheds, gardens tucked up against the residences: a rural neighborhood, but a well groomed one nonetheless.

Now the houses were old, some tumbledown and with vegetation clambering around and over them. The sheds were fallen into disrepair, the hedges untrimmed and growing wild in all directions. A whole patch of the hedge between the Neolithic monument and the road was trampled almost flat. The old chambered tomb alone stood, one great capstone propped solidly atop the three supporting rocks, stolid in the face of time and its neighbors' changing fortunes.

"I don't think so. It looks abandoned." Merlin scanned the houses and shook his head. It was far too quiet, and Iseldir told him this was a refugee location. The broken windows, crumbling walls, and caved in roof nearby spoke for themselves. "But Iseldir said they were at Spinster's Rock…" Merlin stepped out of the car and crossed the road half-way towards it.

"Maybe he was lying." Arthur's voice had an edge to it. Merlin made no response. Arthur had changed a lot of opinions over the years, but it was his natural inclination to be suspicious of sorcerers. Merlin couldn't blame his friend for that.

Arthur went the other way to wander in between the houses, and Merlin crossed the old road to circle the ancient dolmen on the other side.

"They're not hiding in the grass, Merlin," Arthur called back. Merlin ignored him. If Iseldir said to go to Spinster's rock, then the rock was important. Otherwise he could've just given them an address.

Maybe it's a gateway, Merlin mused to himself. 'Follow the key, Emrys.' Those were the Druid's words to him as they parted ways. It sounded so much like something the dragon would say that Merlin wondered whether all those who possessed magic liked speaking in riddles. A key could be more than one thing, though… and perhaps Iseldir meant a key in the sense that one said a map had a key: something that would decode the landscape for them.

Merlin walked up to the dolmen and put a hand on one of the vertical stones supporting the top-slab. He didn't need to feel the presence of the magic to know that a powerful spell was at work. At the edge of his consciousness, faint voices murmured, muffled and quiet but present nonetheless. The Druids were here, but he didn't know how… He let his hand trail over each stone support in turn and paced a full circle around the landmark. His fingers brushed something on the surface of the rock. A triskelion was etched into the stone.

"Why don't you walk around it a few more times?" Arthur suggested from across the road. "Maybe it'll collapse like Jericho." Merlin froze with his fingers on the three-spiral symbol. A huge grin suddenly broke across his face.

"That's it!" He rubbed his thumb over the triskelion, tracing the spirals, his eyes brightening with excitement. In the very center of the triskelion was a triangle-shaped wedge, like the massive rock that capped the dolmen tomb, and around it were the three spirals. "Arthur, look!" He beckoned eagerly to his companion. Even from this distance, Merlin could see the look of exasperation on his friend's face.

"Merlin, give the bloody rocks a rest. They're not going to help," he grumbled.

"Not if you don't know what to do with them," he retorted.

"What are you going to do—push them over?" Arthur asked. Merlin waited patiently for Arthur to trudge across the road, looking rebellious.

"It'sa doorway," Merlin said, gesturing at the structure. "It's just not… activated."

"Oh. Is that the button then?" Arthur asked in obvious sarcasm, flicking a hand at the triskelion under Merlin's fingers.

"Of course it's not a button." Merlin tapped the rock. "It's more like a… key." Arthur gave him an uncomprehending look, and Merlin traced the symbol in the air with his hand. "It tells you how to open the doorway: three circles, like the spirals of the triskelion." Arthur's brow furrowed, but Merlin grabbed him by the sleeve. "We have to go around it."

"You're not serious," Arthur griped, but he let Merlin drag him along, if not with a great deal of grace.

"Just… humor me, alright?" Merlin gave him a little push and Arthur sighed heavily.

"This is ridiculous." Lucky for you this doesn't require enthusiasm.

"Now…" Merlin stopped in front of the triskelion after the third circle. Arthur folded his arms.

"Now?" he challenged. Merlin bit his lip.

"It's a doorway. You go through."

"Really?"

"Really." Merlin gave him a shove, and Arthur had to duck quickly to avoid knocking his head on the capstone. He gave Merlin a withering glare and stooped under the stone to the other side.

"Alright. I went under the rock. Are you happ—"

His word ended on an oddly high tone. Merlin straightened up beside him, and his breath caught in mute amazement as well. A grin spread across his face. It is here! The old homes across the road suddenly didn't look run down any longer. Their roofs were repaired, the walls were strong and firm, the gardens around them lush and growing abundantly. And now, Merlin could hear the voices, no longer just in his head but aloud. All of this… hidden by one intricate and powerful spell… It was truly incredible.

Arthur was drawn taut as a bowstring. Merlin's glance travelled to him and he shifted closer. It unnerved Merlin a touch if he was honest. Dolmens had been used as tombs. It was a little eerie to walk under one to get to the druid camp, as if one were crossing over into the land of the dead. But Arthur wasn't superstitious about that sort of thing

"Could've made the doorway a little taller, couldn't they?" Merlin said, patting the top stone. Arthur let out a small chuckle, looking a little sick. For him, the prospect of walking straight into a community of magic users was probably making his skin crawl. Yet Arthur had known what he was signing up for… and here he still stood. That thought alone made Merlin feel a rush of pride for his friend. Merlin smiled encouragingly and nudged him. "Let's go." The blond squared his shoulders, and close by Merlin's side, he stepped onto the old road.

Over the sound of speech and activity in the neighborhood, one young voice rose in greeting: not aloud, but curious and friendly inside Merlin's mind: Hello, Emrys.

AN2: Anyone care to guess who that is? ^^

Also... did anyone notice that the only person who ever called Lance Gwen's boyfriend was... Arthur? He may have jumped to conclusions a bit.

Again, thanks for reading! :)
~Sandyy