"You wanted to pet her?" Merlin asked through gritted teeth. "She's a dragon, not a puppy."

"That's what I was trying to te—" Galahad began. He stopped at the sight of Merlin's knit eyebrows and horrific scowl.

A long, cold, pause permeated the air until the silence was suddenly broken by a somewhat distant shrill scream. Merlin looked skyward, following the noise up the castle wall to an ornate window. Both the knights followed his gaze, but seemed to lack his dawning recognition that something had gone awry. "Gwen…" Merlin whispered under his breath, and he broke into a full sprint.

Despite Merlin being some years older than when he was last in Camelot, he still moved like he was as young as ever. He practically flew up the winding stone steps, not missing a single one in his haste. When he reached the top, he turned habitually, towards the royal chambers at the far end of the hall and threw the whole weight of his body into the great wooden door, which gave way with an arduous groan.

In the chambers, the dirty-faced man and Gwen were tangled in a struggle. The cape had fallen from his head revealing an unkempt mop of long, dark hair. He had one hand wrapped around Gwen's wrist, the other gripped the long-bladed dagger and was raised purposely above Guinevere's head. It might have already plunged, but for the firm grasp Gwen had on the man's forearm, keeping it suspended and quivering above her head.

Merlin glanced from the man to Gwen rapidly, and then without a word he thrust his hand forward in anger. His eyes began to glow their usual shimmering gold, but held the slightest tint of red. Merlin wrapped his hand into a fist, and the man's eyes began to bulge. His grip on Gwen lessened, and he stumbled back, letting the dagger clattered to the floor. He groped at his throat, recognition dawning in his dark eyes. He turned to Merlin, still chocking, sputtering, and took one lop-sided step towards the sorcerer. Now that Guinevere was free from the man's grasp, Merlin sent him flying backwards with a few words mumbled under his breath. The man flew gracefully into the shelves on the far side of the room, scattering trinkets and books all over the floor.

Gwen let out a half-strangled sigh of relief.

Merlin, realizing he'd forgotten to breathe, let out a few discordant breaths, and began to slowly approach the lump of a man on the ground. "Gwen, are you okay?" he asked, without casting the slightest glance in her direction.

She examined a small cut on her arm, and then pulled a piece of red satin over it to disguise the little pool of blood that was spreading across her sleeve. "I'm fine," she assured. "Is he dead?"

Merlin stopped just over the man and nudged him gently with his foot. When the thing on the ground did not move, Merlin stopped down and rested his fingers on the man's neck. He waited – nothing.

"Yes," Merlin said solemnly. Merlin gingerly turned the man's head to get a better look at his face. It was disguised with dirt, but Merlin realized it was actually quite a beautiful face. Angular cheekbones, clear, almost green eyes – it was not unlike his own. It was only then that Merlin noticed the small tri-spiral tattooed on the man's neck. "He was a druid," Merlin mumbled, half in disbelief."

"George, don't look," Gwen suddenly shouted. Merlin turned around, catching the sight of the small boy peering out from behind his mother's billowing skirt. The boy crept a step forward, enticed by the rare sight of death. It occurred to Merlin that he had been there the whole time, and it was entirely possible that he was the intended target of the attack, and not the Queen.

The boy crept out further, and when he was standing in front of Gwen she caught him by the shoulder and wrapped a gentle arm around him.

"Listen to your mother," Merlin advised, "You will see plenty of stuff like this when you are older."

At once, young Tristan and gloomy Galahad stormed into the open doorway of the chamber. "My lady, is everything alright?" Galahad asked, knowing full well that the battle had already been fought.

"Took you long enough," Merlin grumbled before Gwen could work out a response. There was a tinge of anger growing in his voice, and it seemed clear to the Queen that it would overtake all of the Sorcerer's words soon enough.

Merlin stood and turned on his heels to face the men in the doorway. "And you call yourselves Knights of Camelot? Fat lot of good you do! Someone should take away your swords. As a matter of fact –" Merlin raised his trembling hand, ready to unleash some matter of hell on the pair, but stopped at the sound of Gwen's cool voice.

"Merlin." She said, and it was an admonishment. He lowered his hand, and dropped his head. "Tristan, take George to the nurse."

The young Knight stepped forward, shook of the fear that clung to his face and replaced with his usual happy expression. "Come along, Young Lord Prince," he said, and offered a hand to George. George took it reluctantly, and was dragged away by the happy-go-lucky knight.

"Galahad," Gwen continued, "Find an extra pair of hands and get this body out of my chambers. Take it to Gaius for an examination."

"Yes, my lady," Galahad said cautiously.

"Gwen…" Merlin muttered when they were alone in the room.

"Thank you Merlin, for saving myself and George." She replied shortly.

Merlin shook his head at nothing in particular. "I shouldn't have let him in here, Gwen. I should have been paying better attention."

"Merlin," Gwen said, softer now. "You're not perfect…"

"I know that. I know. But I should be better than this. I'm sorry, Gwen."

The Queen took a few soft steps towards her old friend. She rested her hand on Merlin's shoulder, but he refused to meet her eye. "You did a good job. Neither George nor I was harmed, that's all that matters. Besides, you've been away a long time. You've got to get used to all this again…"

While Merlin was avoiding Gwen's eye, he caught sight of the blood stain working its way through the red satin cover on her arm. A tear boiled up in Merlin's eye. "You're hurt, Gwen."

She glanced at her arm. "'Tis only a small cut."

Merlin nodded, swallowing his self-loathing. He forced himself to smile, and beneath his scraggly beard it was hard to tell if the gesture was genuine. "Let me fix it for you."

"I'm sure Gaius can bind it."

"That's not what I meant," Merlin said, he gently placed one hand on either side of Guinevere's arm, and whispered, "Aslite." Gwen looked in disbelief at the spot on her forearm where the cut had been – the blood stain remained, but the cut itself was entirely gone.