AN: This chapter was super hard to write for some reason... I got it out in the end, but it was like I knew what I had to write but it didn't flow. Sorry if that comes through... mizzymel, I reply to you in PMs anyway... But you're still welcome. anthi35, shush! NO ONE HAS NOTICED UNTIL NOW! Okay, so I know his name was Gorlois but this is what happened. I started this story when I was in hospital and I didn't start it on my laptop. I started it on my iPhone (Yes, up until the new uploads ALL of OVoE and LoC was written on an iPhone) AND I'm dyslexic. So accidentally typed 'Goloris' once (see, all the letters, middle in the wrong order) and I realised way after I published it but no one else did... I did it a few times by accident and then my phone started autocorrecting it and by that point I was so far into this thing it didn't make sense to fix it. So, for this story his name is spelt Goloris. And you're going to have to read to find out about Goloris/Gorlois and Ygraine... And I like Freylin too. If the inspiration strikes me, I will write something just for them. catherine10 I know it would be awesome if Ygraine actually loved Uther, but in my mind, Ygraine and Uther went and used magic to have Arthur then Uther got angry and killed hundreds of people because it didn't work out the way he intended. I'm trying to show how he went from the man that sought magic to fix his problem to the one who killed magic users and I guess in my head, the stakes are so much higher that Uther already used magic to get Ygraine. The fact he uses magic again to lose her, makes it all the more tragic in my mind, I guess... Anyway. Keep reading and maybe it'll change your mind. :)

Children of Men

Dearest Tristan,

I understand why you must leave. I understand more why we can never be together. But please, forever know that I will always love you, no matter what your honour dictates.

Forever yours,

Ana

Hunith sat at the picnic organised by Ygraine and watched as Emelie and Julia played with Flynn in the shallows of the lake. Tristan stood by the edge of the water watching them, a soft expression in his eyes and Ygraine sat with Hunith up on the blanket, watching and each holding a small baby in their arms. Loretta was out walking, trying to calm Pellinore who had risen from his sleep and been immediately fussy.

Leon was almost six months old, while Kay was only three months, his newborn fists stretching and testing their limits as he laid in Hunith's arms. "He's really quite beautiful," Hunith whispered, slightly enamoured. He had opened his eyes a few times to show bright green colours though only had small tuffs of downy hair. He was a curious child who stared at everything that could catch his gaze.

"They all are," Ygraine said wistfully, cooing at Leon who was a much more serious child. He glanced around every now and then but mostly stayed still, pointing things out only when they were bothering him. A true Knight then, Hunith giggled to herself. Ygraine glanced over at Loretta's back. "Do not tell anyone but Pellinore is my favourite. I know he cries a lot and gives Loretta and the maids hell, but he just reminds me of Lachlan when I first met him."

Hunith shifted over closer to Ygraine and asked, "What happened with them? Why did Lachlan not marry her previous to…" she felt like she was gossiping but no one had explained it in their letters that whilst Loretta and Lachlan married seven months previous, their child was born six months ago.

Ygraine lowered her voice, glancing over at Loretta as she spoke. "Loretta was not Lachlan's first choice to wed. She is kind and sweet, do not misunderstand but she was a serving girl he got… caught up with." Hunith blushed and Ygraine forced a smile on her face. "It was the night of Uther and my wedding, actually. Lachlan had been courting the Princess of Ierne."

"Reba?" Hunith gasped.

"No, no… her cousin. What was her name?" Ygraine tutted her tongue and tried to think of it. "Cairanne? No… Oh drat." Ygraine twisted her lip up and shook her head. "Faylin? No… Einin? It ended with an –in of some sort…"

"Princess Eibhlin?" Hunith guessed.

"That's it. That's the one. How do you know your Ierne Royalty so well?"

"A good spy must know these things." she smiled.

Ygraine chuckled. "I must hire you one day. Now, they were very much in love. Had been from the first time Eibhlin visited Anglia and they fell in love as small children. Lachlan had planned to propose to Eibhlin at the wedding, the Court of Ierne invited but Princess Reba showed up instead–"

"I remember that." Hunith murmured. "I was there."

"Well, when writing to Eibhlin to tell of his intentions at the wedding, Reba stole the letter and refused to allow her cousin wed before she did. She came and asked Lachlan to marry instead."

"And Lachlan said no."

"Of course he said no." Ygraine rolled her eyes. "But then his heart was broken and he went to his chambers only to find Loretta."

"Loretta?"

"She was a serving maid from one of the northern kingdoms. Loretta had gotten lost on her way to her mistresses chambers and ended up outside Lachlan's door. Though, I don't think it was by accident." she whispered quietly, glancing at Loretta who was otherwise preoccupied. "They had been together before that. We all were aware she loved him, but Lachlan, while foolishly entangling himself with the serving girls, was always in love with Eibhlin."

"Why are men so idiotic?" Hunith huffed.

Ygraine beamed at her. "Do not worry your pretty little head about it, Hunith. Your Balinor is nothing like that."

Hunith almost choked on thin air. "What?! My – Ygraine he is not my anything!"

"Of course not." she sang. "It's just that you love him."

"I do… Get on with the story."

"Oh. Yes. Well. After the wedding, Loretta and Lachlan saw each other more often than not and eventually, Loretta was with child."

"And Lachlan wished to do the honourable thing and marry her?"

"No." Ygraine said. "He didn't even know because before Loretta could tell him in person, her mistress sent her back north to where she could never hear from him again."

"Then how did Lachlan find out?"

"Eibhlin." Ygraine whispered, a grin spreading over her face. Hunith's eyes widened in surprise. "Eibhlin was visiting the north and when Loretta found out she found Eibhlin's chambers and begged her to pass the message to Lachlan."

Hunith's jaw dropped as she glanced to Loretta who was gently bouncing her child and then back to Ygraine. "No."

"Yes." Ygraine continued. "Eibhlin, for her love of Lachlan, bought Loretta and sent word to Camelot. Lachlan only discovered Loretta when Eibhlin told him about her. Lachlan had wished for Sayard to help him, but when Sayard died Frenwyn found out about all of it and demanded Lachlan marry Loretta for the sake of the child's honour and Eibhlin told him much the same. They were both heartbroken over it but from what I know, Lachlan treats Loretta with the utmost respect and kindness."

Hunith gaped. The scandal of it all. "But the child is Lachlan's is it not?" she whispered, feeling as though she was betraying Loretta by saying it. Lachlan too.

Ygraine hesitated then glanced back over at Loretta and said, "There was a small part of me that had doubted it. But I do not believe for a second that if it is untrue, Lachlan would ever let Pellinore go. He loves the child too much. I have seen him, in quieter moments. Lachlan is enamoured and it would not matter if he never cared for Loretta the way he cared for Eibhlin. He would not allow anyone to take Pellinore from him."

Hunith looked down at Kay and then to Leon and back up to Tristan. "Family means quite a lot to you all. Blood or otherwise."

Ygraine sighed and leant Leon back on her knees so he was facing the sky. Her face turned to a sad smile. "My parents were nobles in King Constantine's Court. My father was a Knight to Constantine and my mother was Queen Octavia's niece through marriage. I watched them get killed in Camelot for betraying the King."

Hunith's heart twisted. "When Tristan and I escaped with Agravaine, we found ourselves living amongst squalor. We were constantly on the run from Vertigern, from bandits, from slavers. Agravaine was a newborn and I was four years old and Tristan had to raise us alone. The first time we had reprieve was when I was eight and we discovered that Uther had been smuggled to Anglia. We hoped to find refuge there and when we first arrived, we were met by Sayard." Her eyes softened with tears.

"Ector was taken in as Balinor's ward officially but the rest of us… Nimueh, Lewis, Frenwyn and Lachlan, Walden and… and Goloris. We were all torn from our families because of Vertigern's rule and we all swore our allegiance to Uther but Sayard… Sayard taught us what it meant to be women and men. What it meant to be family." She looked at Leon and her eyes watered. "You know, I used to hate Lewis. Him and I, we could get into rows that would leave us bloody. Tristan almost killed Lewis once because I had thrown Lewis down a hill but he had grabbed my hand and dragged me with him. When Sayard had found out about it he gave Lewis and I the biggest lecture of our lives and by the end of it, I couldn't fathom how I could have felt anything but love for him and now I am his mother's godmother."

"Balinor once told me, Kin is more important to a Dragonlord than gold."

Ygraine's eyes filled with more tears and Hunith watched her curl her finger around Leon's cheek. "It is. And Sayard taught us that. Made us believe that we were Kin. That destiny had flung us together to be a family and that one day we would have families of our own…" Ygraine choked on a sob and Hunith wrapped an arm around her.

"Ygraine, what is the matter?" Hunith whispered, running a hand through her hair while trying to keep hold of the wriggling Kay. "I am so sorry. I thought we were talking of good things."

"It's not that." Ygraine said, frantically wiping at her eyes. "It's the family. It's the idea of children. Oh Hunith, Uther and I have been trying for a child. It's been a year. More. And nothing. I have tried everything, we have tried everything but I have not been with child."

Hunith had wondered about Ygraine and Uther. The fact that Uther had not yet had an heir had been gossip even in Ealdor. But a small part of her believed that maybe it was the magic behind their engagement that had stopped a child from being born. She bit her tongue however, one of the few aware of the bargain Nimueh and Uther struck. She looked to Julia and smiled sadly. "Ygraine, do not despair. These things all happen in good time."

But a strange glaze covered Ygraine's eyes as she whispered, "But I'm afraid if I do not have children he will be forced to leave me for another."

Even as Hunith heard Ygraine's fears, she knew they were unfounded. "Ygraine, if I know only one sure truth in this life it is that Uther Pendragon loves you more than anything in this universe and the next and he would never, not in a million years leave you for another."

Ygraine burst into tears, wrapping her arms around Hunith and murmuring that she prayed that it was true.

To whoever stole my boots from the weapons cupboard,

I know it was you Ector.

You are the only one who wears my boot size.

Expect retribution.

Sincerely

Walden.

You don't understand.

They were my boots.

I swapped them with yours so you could break them in for me.

Then I swapped them back.

Your real boots are where you left the old ones.

I don't like the blisters.

Thank you,

Ector

Do you do that every time you get a new pair of boots? - W

Yes. - E

MY FEET LOOK LIKE EGGPLANTS BECAUSE OF YOU!

I said thank you.

"Stop pacing." Lewis snapped.

Balinor glared at his friend, his brow furrowing. "It's been two days, Lewis. Two days and there has been no sign of him and neither of us noticed!"

"We noticed." Lewis said calmly. "We've just been on different schedules to him, that's all."

Balinor paused his steps in their tiny servants room beneath the castle and rubbed his face. "Lords Ector, if you are in a tavern somewhere, I will murder you."

"He's not irresponsible." Lewis sad, remaining painfully calm. Balinor wanted to throttle him. Because he wanted to believe Ector was fine and drunk, if only to stop himself envisioning his brother dead and in pain. "He was in the kitchens. He had the least conspicuous job. Getting gossip from kitchen maids. What could have gone wrong?"

Lewis shook his head then stopped, halfway, staring at Ector's rucksack on the end of his bed. He swore and stood up, storming over to the bag and emptying it's contents. "What?" Balinor demanded as Lewis pillaged through the bag and came out with nothing.

"He didn't," Lewis muttered glancing over his shoulder at Balinor. His features were grim and his face drawn. "I heard a rumour. I didn't matter much to me as I was trying to find out about Bayard not his cousin."

"Bayard's cousin?" Balinor asked, inching forward.

"Sophia." Lewis said and starting pulling apart the bag again. "Frenwyn gave Ector a letter. He did not tell you but he mentioned it to me. A letter for the Lady Sophia. Last night she was accused of treason and taken to the dungeons for refusing to marry her betrothed."

"And what does this have to do with Ector?" Balinor demanded, his voice growing in volume.

"The letter was for Sophia, from Frenwyn telling her of his love." Lewis halted and Balinor guessed he couldn't find it. "Damn it to hell. I think I know what happened to Ector."

Balinor's stomach turned as he slid the pieces together in his mind. He thought of Ector – idiot love-fooled Ector and how he would risk his life for love because it was what he believed in. "He's in the dungeons." Balinor said, his mind already reeling.

Ector. In Bayard's dungeons.

The three of them weren't quite well known, despite their standing in Uther's court. Between being a Dragonlord and the son of a Lord, not many people outside of Camelot had actually seen Balinor's face and Ector's even less. But there were a few who might remember them from Anglia and if any traced Ector back to Uther with the war between Camelot and Mercia, he would be flayed.

Lewis was already packing his and Balinor's bags as he said, "We need to leave. If they know we came with Ector and found the letter–"

"Not without Ector." Balinor snapped furiously, his eyes alight with dragons fire. He could feel Celosia off on the edges of Mercia. She could come and burn the castle to the ground. He didn't care. If someone had hurt Ector–

"Calm down, Balinor. I didn't say we were going to leave without him. But we must find him first." Lewis said and threw Balinor his bag, breaking his concentration from his thoughts as he caught it. "Do you know how to get to the dungeons?" Lewis asked.

"No. Do you?"

"No." Lewis cursed, straight after, glancing at his bed, which now held his sword and Ector's. He stared at the sword, feeling a slight pulse of magic from it. Magic Balinor had cast long ago to protect his brother, just like the magic he embedded into Ector's soul to keep him connected.

"But I can find him." Balinor went and grabbed his along with it's scabbard and strapped it on around his waist. Lewis watched with a frown as Balinor took the sword off the bed and held it up. "Ábeþece ágendfréa," he said in the tongue of the Old Religion and the sword glowed gold before pointing like an arrow at the door and floating on ahead.

"I forget sometimes you can cast magic. You do not do it frequently enough." Lewis said, staring in awe.

"Come on." Balinor said and the two left the serving quarters, following the sword through the castle. It was the dead of night and most of the castle was asleep. They turned corner after corner and Balinor wasn't keeping track. His brain was frantically working through all the possible scenarios in which they could find his brother.

Broken. Tortured. Beaten. Dead.

He was so busy worrying that he didn't notice the moving shadows ahead until Lewis grabbed Ector's shoulder and yanked him and the sword backwards into the alcove they'd just past and hid the both of them. He almost started to shout when he heard the voices of two men and the footsteps of four. "I want them found. Lord Ambrosius and the other Knight are here somewhere. He was in the serving quarters when we found him so search there first."

"Yes Sir."

It was like plunging into ice-cold waters. Two of the guards stayed at the end of the hall and two started down the hall towards him. Balinor went to move, but Lewis held him back to let the guards go by. But something savage and fiery came over Balinor and he threw Lewis aside, deeper into the alcove. He himself flew out into the hall and his dagger out of his pocket and buried it to the hilt of the closest man's neck.

The other three all jumped in fright but Balinor swung around, dagger in his fist. He put his hands on either side of the guards face and snapped his neck. "Get him!" Balinor turned his head to see the Braedan, the Overseer of the Bayard's Knights.

He flung his hand out and Braedan and his man both hit the wall. Balinor ran to the end of the hall, dagger in one hand and sword in the other and aimed for their necks.

When none of the four guard were moving, Balinor turned around to see Lewis holding Ector's sword staring at him with an unreadable expression. "We need to move." he said.

Lewis nodded and let the sword go. It flew forward passed where the guards had come from. They followed it down into the dungeons where the light stopped reaching them and the torches began to guide them instead of the sword.

At the bottom Lewis grabbed Balinor's arm again. "Wait here." he said.

"But–"

"We need to get in and out of there without causing a war between Mercia and Camelot. This requires stealth, not brute force. Something, which I believe you to be incapable of at present moment."

"Lewis." Balinor said evenly. His fingers tightened over his dagger, his sword shifting in his hand to adjust its weight. "If they've harmed Ector, there will be no Mercia to war with Camelot."

Lewis let out a sharp breath through his nose. "The thing is, I believe you."

Despite the threats, Balinor released the magic over the sword and followed Lewis into the dungeons quietly. He wanted to find Ector first. The dungeons were not unlike Camelot's own, but the smell of damp sewerage implied that the dungeons were below the water-filled moat*. It made it more difficult for prisoners to escape but also meant there would be a certain lack of light.

As stone turned to bars, Balinor and Lewis started checking the cells for Ector, coming across many bone starved prisoners along the way. They reached out through the bars, low groans all they were able to get out to ask for assistance. A pang of regret hit Balinor's heart. He couldn't release them all. While it all looked inhumane, some of there were most likely murders and worse. Bayard and Uther may have had their problems but he had never seen the King act a complete tyrannical fool.

But all those thoughts of Bayard being fair despite cruel stopped when he spotted a familiar lump tossed over a mangy straw bed coloured in russet red blood. "Ec," he said.

Lewis followed his gaze and Balinor held out his hand, wordlessly breaking the locks with a flash of his eyes. Celosia, he hissed in Dragontongue, reaching out for his Dragon in his mind. He took steps towards Ector, but already his mind was running through the Mercian castle, going back up the hallway and slipping up to the different towers, looking for a way out for them that was also a way in for her. Meet us at the southern tower. Ector is hurt.

His minds eye tunnelled out and he was watching Lewis turn Ector over. He'd been beaten and tortured but out of all the injuries the deep knife wound bleeding out from his stomach was by far the worst. Lewis swore then reached over, tapping Ector's cheeks. "Ec. Ec, wake up."

Balinor assessed him and saw the threads of his brother's life being snapped. He held his hand out over the wound. "Haelon," he breathed but all the healing spell did was freeze his brothers injuries from further bleeding out. "Help me lift him." Balinor said.

Lewis looked up at Balinor doubtfully. "Bal–"

"Help me lift him, Lewis." Balinor cut him off, shooting Lewis a sharp stare.

But Lewis didn't move. "Balinor, I've seen men die of less."

"Ector is not an ordinary man."

"You heard the guard say Camelot. Balinor, Ector told him who we were. He's dead either way."

If Celosia hadn't chosen that moment to interrupt him, Balinor thought he might have snapped Lewis's neck. I was seen. They're preparing to attack. What do I do?

Get to the southern tower any which way you can, Balinor thought darkly.

He turned to Lewis again but caught sight of something on the hay bed half buried beneath Ector and soaked in his blood. He grabbed it and it was parchment. Flipping it in his fingers, he saw the Camelot seal pressed against it. He showed it to Lewis. "When Ector gets better, I expect you to grovel at his feet for insinuating he is a traitor." he snapped then shoved the letter deep in his pocket. "Now help me get him up!" The castle rumbled and a large roar echoed down into the dungeons. "Celosia is waiting."

Lewis didn't argue after that as they hoisted Ector between them and started their escape. Dust and parts of the castle ceiling started to fall as Celosia attacked from above and the dragon ravaging the towers gave welcome distraction, guards and the like were running away from where they were running to. Celosia. Keep them distracted.

They're shooting arrows at me. They're not very bright.

Just let them for the moment. Lewis kept giving Balinor sidelong looks but Balinor ignored his concern. He could feel Ector's heart beat through his shirt collar and it was barely there.

Despite Celosia's efforts, just as they reached the stairs of the southern tower, an armed guard turned the corner down the hall. "There!" One of the men shouted. "Get the prisoner!"

Balinor shoved Ector straight onto to Lewis. "Go." he said. "I'll take care of them."

Lewis's face fell. "But Balinor–"

Balinor ripped the letter from his pocket and pushed it in Lewis's pocket. "Take him and go to the roof. Celosia will meet you there. Don't wait for me. Get Ector straight to Gaius. I order that as a Lord, not as a friend."

It was the first time Balinor had ever pulled rank over any of his friends. He watched Lewis shoot him a betrayed glare and rush off up the tower stairs where, no doubt, Celosia would be waiting. He turned to face the on coming guards. It may also be the last time he did so.

Three of Uther's Men are among you.

One of them is the Lord Ambrosius himself.

C

Lachlan sat across from Uther, on the end of his dining table repeating in his head the question again. Still, when he could not quite understand what his King was asking from him, he tilted his head to the side. "I'm sorry, sire. What?"

Uther was regretting his choices already. He should have waited for Ector and Lewis to return, but as luck would have it, Lachlan was the only man he had left who was both a father and someone he trusted. "Ygraine and I wish to have a child." he said slowly. "As you have experience in this, I was wondering if you and Loretta knew of ways to conceive."

Lachlan was barely supressing the grin on his face. "You know, when I was a child, Sayard sat me down and told me about–"

"I know about that Lachlan." Uther snapped as the younger started to snicker. "What I clearly don't know about is how to succeed in getting her pregnant. We've tried and tried and I'm afraid it has started to take a toll on Ygraine's well being."

"What are you doing to her?" Lachlan frowned. "Because it's not supposed to take a toll."

Uther huffed. "I'm trying to be serious here."

Lachlan rolled his eyes. "I do hope you know that, as much as I love my son, he was an accident. A happy joyous accident but an accident all the same."

"I'm well aware of that." Uther hadn't quite agreed with Lachlan's marriage to Loretta. He would have preferred if his marriage with Eibhlin and when he had rejected Reba, he had argued with him for days. A strong alliance with Ierne would bring revenue to the city through the trade. When Frenwyn had then all but forced Lachlan to marry Loretta, he had tried telling Lachlan it would be fine if he didn't. Pellinore was a good child but Loretta had been a serving girl looking for an easy way to gain a new status. Or at least, that's how he saw it. "How come you can have a child by accident but I can't on purpose?"

"Luck of the draw?" Lachlan offered. When Uther glared at him he put his hands up in innocence. "Okay, okay. Let's see what wise words of wisdom I can impart… You are… finishing, yes?"

Uther's glare hardened. "Of course."

"Both of you?"

"Both of us?"

"Women finish too, you know. I mean, there's more to it than just the moaning. And she could be faking the moaning. Loretta told me women do that sometimes."

Uther gaped, "I should send you to the stocks!"

"Hey! You are asking me for advice! I'm just trying to get a background here!"

"I know what I'm doing when it comes to sex! I don't need advice on that! I need advice on getting her pregnant!" Uther shouted.

"If you think it's two separate things, then clearly you have no idea what you're doing in either case!" Lachlan shouted back.

Uther growled but then saw reason in what he was saying. He huffed and silenced himself and when Uther calmed himself, jaw tighten and fists tucked into his lap, Lachlan resumed. "So… you are putting it in the right place, aren't you?"

"That's it." Uther grabbed his sword and started to withdraw it as Lachlan scrambled to get off the table and to the door.

He swung it open to rush out of there but was stopped by a servant, hands raised to rap at the wood that had just disappeared. "King Uther?" It was Cedric. Uther pressed by Lachlan, returning the sword to his hip.

"What is it Cedric?"

"Sirs Ector and Lewis just arrived on the Lord Ambrosius's Dragon." He glanced between the knight and king nervously. "Without the Lord Ambrosius."

Uther and Lachlan exchanged similar looks of dread. Ector, Lewis and Balinor weren't due back for another fortnight at least. "Where are they?"

"Gaius's chambers. Sir Ector is quite injured.

Uther thanked Cedric then went with Lachlan to Gaius's chambers. Inside, the first thing Uther saw was Ector. Bloodied and bruised and being bandaged and tended to by Gaius, Alice and Hunith. Uther bit back bile and remained stoic. He had to. He could not crumple and an injured guards side. What sort of King did that make him? He saw Goloris, Frenwyn and Tristan were already there, sitting with Lewis beneath a window. "What happened?" Uther demanded, approaching them. Hunith's gaze and ear had followed him while Lachlan went to assist the rest of them.

Lewis quietly explained how Ector went missing and then how Balinor had had them escape. He held out his hand, a bloodied parchment with the Camelot seal on the top in his hand. "We were betrayed. At first I thought it was Frenwyn's letter to Sophia, but that simply confirmed who we were."

Uther looked down at the letter and read it. The ink was smudged with blood but the words were clear. Someone had sold them out to Bayard. Lewis murmured, "I had thought Ector had betrayed us under torture when I heard the Mercian guards say they knew we were there. He was tortured to find out where we were in the castle. But he didn't betray us then either."

"And Balinor?" Uther asked.

Lewis shook his head slowly. "I don't know. He turned back to distract the guards on our feet. He ordered me away."

Tristan stood up. "I will go to Mercia myself to find him, sire."

Uther looked to the tabletop that had Ector lying half-dead. "There's no point." Uther said stiffly. His throat was closing with tears that threatened to spill. "There won't be anything to collect but a body if he really did destroy as much as Mercia as you said he did."

Tristan's jaw tightened. "Even so. He is a Lord of Camelot. If he is indeed deceased, he deserves a burial–"

"Bayard won't allow it. He will make a point–"

"He is not just a Lord." Tristan snapped over Uther. Uther shot him a withering look but Tristan was one of the few people it did not work on. "He is our friend. Ector's brother. For you he would sacrifice himself to collect your crown should you drop it in a chasm. For him you should sacrifice no less."

Uther narrowed his eyes. "I am his King. It is expected he–"

"He wouldn't do it for your crown, Uther." Tristan cut across. "He would do it for you. And I will do it for him and for Ector. With or without your blessing."

Tristan took off his sword and passed it over to Uther. Uther held the helm and for a moment, he could have easily run Tristan through for his betrayal. Tristan met his eyes as though he knew this but Uther took the sword from him and held it by his side. "If that is how you feel." he said. "But do not be surprised when you go to Mercia to find him dead and war upon Camelot and we will not be surprised when you are needed here but are out looking for a dead man."

Tristan nodded once tightly then looked to Goloris, Lewis and Frenwyn. The three of them were on the edge of their chairs, ready to follow him. "Stay here. If Mercia does indeed attack, Uther will need all the men he can get."

Despite that, Frenwyn stood. "You should not go into Mercia alone. I know my way in and out of the citadel and it is my fault Ector was captured."

Goloris stood too. "And my face is not known in Mercia. Both of you have been there before. We're not allowing you to refuse us, Tristan." They both took off their swords and handed them to Uther too. He reluctantly took both.

"If you are captured or killed, do not expect me to send more after you." Uther warned.

"I wouldn't expect you to as we are not going out on your orders. Unlike Balinor." Tristan said shortly.

Uther watched three of his men – his friends, disobey him and head to the door. Lachlan, Gaius and Alice all watched him, having overheard what was happening but it was Hunith who rushed to his side. Tristan turned to her but before he could speak, she handed him a handkerchief. A token of her favour. Uther did not believe she meant to give it to him for her love, but for her trust. She had his. "Bring him home. Please."

Tristan nodded and wrapped the material around his wrist. "I will give this to Balinor when I see him next." he promised.

Uther caught Tristan's eye one last time. He looked back to Goloris and Uther knew what Tristan was thinking. This man married my sister. He tightened his fingers around the sword and blood slipped through his fist as Tristan turned and left.

NEWS FOR THE CRIERS OF MERCIA FROM THE KING:

i. Repairs to the castle are underway. An initial report was made and the Dragon did not damage our walls so much as burn through our supplies. We shall be restocking them promptly

ii. Taxes will be raised by three silvers to assist the Crown in repairs

iii. Should anyone have information on the names and whereabouts of the Camelot guard, they should report immediately to the King or his Guard.

iv. The Dragonlord held responsible for the crimes will be beheaded at noon in the courtyard. Attendance is mandatory for all citizens of Mercia.

v. Henrietta's Farm just outside the citadel is having a sale on chicken feed! A good harvest has brought in extra yield! Get an extra bag of feed for the winter for only 10 silvers!

The bit in Balinor's mouth wasn't unlike the kind he bridled his horse with. Only instead of just keeping his jaw open and unable to clamp down, it was also carved with ruins that held his magic in check. His hands were tied behind his back and his feet were chained together. Along with the black eye, the broken ribs and the starvation, Balinor felt it all a bit excessive.

Well, of course if he had use of his magic or his limbs, he would be able to escape and he was the cause of one of the castles towers collapsing in and the death of a good chunk of Mercia's army, but still.

What surprised Balinor the most was his lack of sympathy for the Mercians. He thought that maybe once his anger had subsided he would feel guilt but the problem was possibly that his anger had yet to subside. Every time he shut his eyes he imagined what could have happened to Ector. It was hard to be kind when everything in his body was throbbing like the night when his father had died.

He could hear footsteps in the distance. The torchlight flickered, as doors were unlocked, creating air tunnels through the cold dungeons. The footsteps grew louder, a clear march of at least ten feet. Balinor tightened his already tense muscles. They were not going to give him opportunity to fight back. Bayard had already warned Balinor what would happen.

A beheading.

His neck itched at the thought of it and his hands weren't available to give him relief. He looked up as the marching attracted his other inmates to push and groan at the bars. Some begged, others spat and rattled their cages like animals. Balinor sat back in his corner and waited. He kept thinking the same thing.

To transport him, they would have to unlock his leg chains. They were too tight to move his feet. They were all he needed unlocked. That and a small opportunity to move.

The men arrived and leading them was Bayard himself. The fur collar of his coat puffed out his chest even more as he tilted his head lazily towards Balinor. "Ready for your death, Lord Ambrosius?"

Balinor couldn't even grin sarcastically but the way Bayard scoffed, he understood. "You know, I should thank you." he said as he nodded to his guards. There were ten strong men standing ready to escort him. "One of the reasons why I could never risk a direct attack on Camelot was because it is one of the only Courts in Albion with their own pet Dragonlord." Balinor was yanked to his feet by two of the guards and with two more pointing their swords at his neck, they undid his leg cuffs. "But now you've given me opportunity to kill you, but you've also given me good reason to ruin Uther once and for all. He sent his big scary Dragonlord to fight us." He snorted just after as if Balinor really wasn't much threat at all.

Just wait, old man, Balinor thought to himself but his deadly glare towards the King was ruined by the drool that slipped from the side of his bit. "Tell me," Bayard said and from behind his back withdrew Balinor's sword and dagger. "I have heard legends that Dragonlord's swords are strong enough to behead a man in one swipe. Is that true?"

Balinor really thought that Bayard just liked the sound of his own voice. "I suppose we'll find out, won't we?"

He's going to behead me with my own sword? Balinor thought as he rolled his eyes. Well then, that was just better for him. It meant he wouldn't have to get another one. He must have appeared happy or something because Bayard's grin started to fall and turned into a glare. He raised the dagger and stabbed it straight through Balinor's sword arm.

He groaned and bit down hard at the pain and the smile returned to Bayard's face. "You killed many of my men, Lord Balinor of Camelot. I will not let that go unpunished."

Staying quiet, he let the ten men and the King march him from the dungeons and up to the ground level. The first peak of sunlight blinded Balinor. He hadn't realised how dim the dungeons had been, even with the torchlight. It was day too and he wasn't certain how many days he'd been down there. Surely not longer than a week. He found happiness in the fact it only took a few hours to fly to Camelot from Mercia and that no doubt, Ector was in good care with Gaius.

Just before they reached the doorway, Bayard handed the sword to one of his guards. "I will be up in the balcony, watching your demise so this is farewell, Lord Ambrosius. It's a shame we did not meet on better circumstance."

Not really, Balinor thought and met the King's glare with a hardened gaze of his own. Then he was dragged out into the streets. The guard formation was tight as the crowds of Mercia looked at him as he searched them for something, though he wasn't sure what. Instead of finding what he was looking for he met the eyes of the citizens. Some of them were filled with fear. Some with anger. They deserved to fee both. He had destroyed their homes after all. And only now, seeing the faces of some of the young, guilt twinged at him. So I am still me, he thought. At least I die with my empathy in tact.

He didn't know if that would help or hinder the situation.

The fear was worse than the anger. Because Balinor had never really been one to be feared before. Before he was a Dragonlord, he was just Balinor. A sorcerer yes, but he hadn't been nearly as powerful as he was with the Dragon Tongue in his thoughts. He glanced to his sword, held tight in one of the guards hands and looked to see the executioner. He shook his head because for half a second he thought the executioner was a woman but after the first glimmer, his decided it was just an illusion of the light because in her place was a large muscled man.

He walked up the steps to the podium and was still searching for an opportunity to escape, even though he hadn't answered his own question. His executioner wore a mask and thick leather gloves. The guard handed him the sword and whispered something. Most likely the instructions from the king to kill Balinor by his own sword.

For the first time, Balinor was scared. How the hell was he going to get out of this? It looked like there was nothing he could do. Even if he could get out of the cuffs, remove the bit and collect his sword, he'd have to kill all the guards and make it through the crowds. He couldn't believe it but the entire time he had been in prison, he had thought for some reason Lewis and maybe the other men of Camelot would come and rescue him. That had been what he was searching for in the crowd.

He felt panic in his heart when he was pushed to his knees in front of the beheading block. It was wooden and stained a permanent shade of red. People had died there. He was going to die there.

"Citizens of Mercia! This man before you is the great Balinor Ambrosius, Dragonlord of one Uther Pendragon!" Balinor rolled his eyes as Bayard spoke from his Balcony. He wasn't Uther's pet anymore than Celosia was his pet. She would burn you to a crisp if you suggested anything of the sort, and he was inclined to agree with her. "The Kingdom of Camelot has attacked us and in return, we will kill the one man stopping us from destroying Camelot!"

What a speech, Balinor thought dryly as Bayard continued to spiel about the greatness of Mercia. Did you think of it yourself? He chastised himself for a moment because he literally had his head on a chopping block. He twisted his head to the side and saw the executioner holding his sword.

He ran through his options. He couldn't use his magic or call for Celosia because his mouth was bound and there was a rune in it. He couldn't escape the iron clasps around his wrists, he had tried that a million times in the dungeons and they were too strong. He couldn't run, because he was in the middle of a thousand citizens and they would catch him and he couldn't die because that just wasn't an option he was comfortable with.

The drumming started. What the hell am I supposed to do? he looked up and saw the executioner and again, swore he thought he saw a woman. A small lithe woman wearing a brown leather bodice and similar pants. His brow furrowed as the man replaced that image again, wearing a leather vest and pants instead. His hand trailed down to look at the hands of the executioner, which were definitely feminine. He looked up and caught the eye of the executioner behind his mask.

Deep brown eyes.

You, he thought.

Me, the voice surprised him in his mind. Bayard raised his hand and Balinor was drawn to the end of the speech and the banging of the drums to order the execution. The man-woman raised Balinor's sword high above their heads. "On my order!" Bayard's voice boomed.

Balinor didn't know if this woman was his fiend or foe and tense. Bayard's thumb was raised and started to turn. The man-woman brought the sword down at an alarming speed. Balinor shut his eyes, unable to stop himself…

When the sword crashed into his chains and a force of magic and precision cut them in half. Balinor opened his eyes before the King could figure out what had happened. Balinor lifted his hands up and undid the strap that held the bit in one quick motion. He yanked the dagger from his shoulder just as the executioner ripped of their mask and a woman was revealed in his place. "Run." she ordered, throwing him his sword.

He caught it just as the guards came to their senses and Bayard ordered him captured once again. But Balinor reached his hand up and blasted a path, clearing people from the streets. He grabbed the woman's hand and the two of them leapt off the platform together and into the crowd.

She followed him on the edge of his footfalls and Balinor kept moving the crowd, forcing them back. Someone started to ring the bells and Bayard could be heard shouting orders. They ran to the edge of the courtyard and Balinor spotted horses. His ribs though ached too much to jump on the back of the steed. He still grabbed the closest beast by its reigns and pulled it towards the woman.

She hauled herself onto the back then held her hand up and heaved Balinor up. He cried out and fell over her back as she steered the horse down the roads of Mercia. "I told you to leave the castle!" she shouted once they were a way ahead of the guards.

"Well next time, be more specific." he huffed.

The woman whipped the horse faster as the drawbridge of the moat started to lift ahead of them. It was already up far too high for the horse to make it. The guards were waiting for them. "We need to go around somehow." said Balinor.

The woman tightened her fingers on the reigns. "There is no around. That is the only bridge out. Arrow!"

"Blóstma!" All the crossbows and arrows in the immediate vicinity of them turned into bouquets of flowers. The magic, the lack of food and abundance of bruising was catching up to him because of the jarring hooves of the horse.

"Take a breath and be ready to jump!" the woman shouted.

Balinor's eyes shot open. "Jump? Jump what?"

The woman steered the horse straight but over the moat bridge that was still being dragged up. Balinor understood all too quickly but the objections died on his mouth quicker as the horses hooves galloped onto the inclining draw bridge. The woman's legs tightened and Balinor braced his legs too and just as they reached the edge, both of them leapt either side of the horse and into the moat below.

Balinor plunged beneath the waters and three arrows whizzed passed his head and into the murky depths below. He turned his head, keeping his eyes open by force and saw the woman kicking her feet towards him. The water was dark enough that those above couldn't yet see them, but he could already feel the itch for oxygen as his clothes, weapons and injury weighed him down.

The woman grabbed his arm and dragged him further down however and Balinor's lungs and head protested. He hadn't drawn a deep enough breath for this. She dragged them below into a darker spot of water that turned out to be a tunnel. He thought maybe they were returning beneath the dungeons and panicked but the woman had already dragged him inside. The water was suffocating him in a different way. The water was putting pressure on his chest to open his mouth and suck in air.

But just ahead was a brighter blue light and Balinor kicked his legs harder and the two were in a bigger open space with the surface just above. Balinor kicked hard and the two of them breached the surface, taking in deep gasping breaths. Their ragged breaths and harsh chokes echoed in the cavern Balinor assumed they'd come out in.

No, Balinor thought, looking around. Not cavern. Well. He looked up and saw the light above them was from a well in Mercia. He could hear the bells and the markets. "What–?" Balinor started to question but the woman was kicking her way towards the wall.

"Follow me." she huffed and swam calmly over to the edge of the wall. Balinor frowned. Because instead of the smooth opening of a wall, there was another tunnel. The woman hoisted herself up into it and Balinor did the same. Once out of the water, he made a make shift sheath to tie his sword to his back out of tears from his shirt. He could only see the woman's back as they crawled through the tight fitting tunnel.

"Where are we going?" Balinor asked.

The woman didn't reply. They crept further and further out, the bells becoming distant sounds. Balinor was certain they were far out of Mercia, though he couldn't tell how much. He was shaking a little, from the cold of the tunnels and the weaning adrenaline. His arm ached now but he was just thankful he could breathe.

When the tunnel ended, they fell out into the cavern Balinor had previously expected. Only even this he couldn't fully expect.

It was a squatters cavern, near the edge of the cliff behind Mercia. Filled with trunks of trinkets and cases of clothes. Balinor looked around curiously as the woman twisted her head to the side and started to ring out her hair, back still to him. "Who are you?" he asked, feeling it slightly appropriate.

The woman didn't turn to look at him still and he realised he had yet to see her face. Not properly at least. "Thank you," he said, trying to get her to speak.

She scoffed and took off her water soaked top. Balinor gaped as she went and grabbed a loose shirt as if Balinor wasn't there and pulled it over her head. She started to shimmy out of her pants when he remembered himself and spun around. "Um… I really appreciate it. You know. The fact… I'm not dead."

"Do you?" she asked. He couldn't help but find her voice familiar. It was soft and dangerous and caused him to shiver. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. "If you cared for your life, you would have left when I told you to."

"What can I say?" his eyes darted across the walls of her cave, trying to find a clue as to why he recognised her voice. "I'm a slow learner." He could still hear her shuffling around. "My name is Balinor, by the way. Balinor Ambrosius."

"I never would have guessed." she said dryly.

Balinor's eyes were drawn to something in the corner of the room. It was a crate of weapons, all of them with dragon helms. He frowned and looked over his shoulder. She still had his back to him, her backside exposed. He turned back around sharply and focused in on the weapons. A cold dread started to curl up inside of him. "Do I get to learn the name of my saviour?" he asked carefully, focusing in on the swords.

"I'm no saviour." she muttered darkly.

Balinor's eyes searched the trunk and he spotted it. Stabbed between different swords with the helm poking out like a trophy. It was a trophy.

They had never found his father's sword when they sent to find his body.

Balinor stared at it now, lost amongst the other swords of the dead. "Déaþgodas," he hissed and grabbed his father's sword and swung around. It clashed with another sword and the woman had her own weapon clashing with his. "Why?" he growled.

The woman smirked. "Because if I let the King kill you, I wouldn't be able to steal your powers now would I?"

Their swords clashed again and again as Balinor tried to force her back but she was surprisingly strong for such a lithe woman. Magic, he thought. She's using magic. But in all his studies of Déaþgodas, they did not have their own magic. They stole and borrowed from others. But to do so she needed a totem.

He looked her over and saw a glint of silver wrapped around her wrist. It was a flower, made by a fine artisan. Silver harnessed magic better than all of all the metals. He threw her back into the cavern wall, a collection of paraphernalia exploding from her belongings and in the confusion of it, he went and snapped the leather then swung his sword down. When she went to defend the blow, her sword arm gave out and Balinor cut her from shoulder to hip, her shirt blossoming with blood.

She gasped. He knocked the sword out of her hand and pressed his blade up against her neck. Balinor almost started to slice her throat when he looked at her. Really looked at her.

When he had seen her through his father's eyes and in between the glamour she had worn to save him, he had assumed she was a woman. but now, looking at her crumpled over and bleeding through white sliced cotton, he saw a child. With dark eyes and dark hair and tiny hands. He looked to the leather on the ground that had held her magic and saw just how little rope had been used.

While he was distracted, she rolled out beneath him and stood up behind him. With her leg, she kicked his father's sword aside and Balinor dropped it. With a second punch, she managed to hit him in the jaw. Balinor's head swung back and her fast form battered as many blows as it could in his stomach.

Balinor grabbed her wrist as soon as he tilted his head forward again swung her around so he could grab the back of her long hair and slam her face into the rock. She crumpled to her knees and Balinor turned her onto her back and pressed his foot to her neck.

"How old are you?" Balinor demanded, glaring down at her.

"Seventeen." she growled out. Her hands scampered around her to find a weapon but he sliced the back with his sword. She hissed, as blood appeared on them too.

"And your name?" he snapped, looking at how she held herself. the hit to the wall must have broken something as she was suddenly favouring her left side when clearly she was right handed.

Panting, she replied, "Aislin of… of the Isle of Mora."

"Why did you kill my father?" Balinor demanded. "Why did you make me watch?" She didn't answer him. He lifted his hand up and with it, she flew up to her feet and into the air, choking by an invisible rope. "Answer me!"

She spat at his face and blood and spit dribbled down his chin. He threw her into the wall again, but at eye level. He pulled out his dagger, the dragon's head carved into the top with sapphires for eyes. He shoved up her shirt and she gasped as he moved the material up just high enough for her tanned stomach to be exposed along with her new bloody scar. "Answer me or I'll carve my title into your flesh."

She twisted to escape, but Balinor squeezed pressed the knife into her skin, causing her to curl up in pain. "Don't test me." He loosened the magic around her throat enough so she could speak.

"I killed your father because he killed mine!" Aislin hissed. "And my mother. And my brothers and sisters. He killed my entire family. Wiped out my people." Her breath caught in her throat and she cried out as her bone grinded against her muscle in her chest. "And I made you watch be- because it started with you." She looked up at him, eyes dark and heady with pain. "If you had just died…"

He glared at her and raised his fist but stopped himself landing the blow. "I was your age. I was seventeen and I was petrified. That man was going to kill me! I couldn't go out into the dark for two years without my brother to keep me company."

She glared, "I don't have such luxuries. I don't have a brother to curl up with when the nightmares become too much. I don't even have any kin left to relate to. I'm the only one left. The only Déaþgodas to remember, to know. It was a miracle I wasn't slaughtered along with the rest of them. But no one is here to hold my hand, Balinor Ambrosius, son of Sayard the Slayer of Gods." Balinor's grip slackened at the fear in her eyes that hadn't been there when he had threatened. "That's what they called him, you know? My people. Watched him fight and they only saw a monster. He was vicious, tearing apart men and women and children. Your father was a monster. Just like you."

"Your people were the monsters." Balinor insisted. "They killed us for our powers. They killed dragons for their scales and drank their Lords to gain their magic." He slammed his fists against her chest. "You killed my father, not in war but in cold blood."

"Blood is never cold. It's always warm and filled with life until, of course, it isn't." Aislin's eyes darkened and she tilted her neck back. "Now kill me. Kill me and have it done with."

And then he understood. Then he saw it all, his face paling as he pushed himself back and letting the magic that held her to the wall fall. "You don't want to live. You're just too afraid to do it yourself."

Her eyes narrowed. "I'm not afraid of anything."

"You are of damnation." he insisted. "Your people. I've read your doctrines. Suicide is against your every belief. That is why you gain the powers of the dragons. It makes you more powerful and almost Immortal so when the time of the reckoning comes, you will be able to face it." Balinor shook his head. "No. I'm not giving you what you want."

He backed off completely and ended up on the opposite side of the cavern. Aislin stared at him incredulously and scrambled up to her feet with her sword back in her hands. "You're not going to kill me? For killing your father and making you watch?"

Balinor shook his head again, slower this time and stepping back. "No. I'm not."

She gritted her teeth and stood up, holding her arm protectively over her stomach. A rib was broken. "Well then. I'll use the same spell on you and your brother and we'll see how well he'll react to your death then."

"No you won't. Hine ásæle." he said and her arms and legs were bound and she was unable to do anything but fall. She hissed as Balinor spun her onto her back and knelt down over her. "My father sought revenge for me and his people. You sought revenge and killed him. I know you have no one to come after you and kill me in revenge for removing your miserable life from the world, but I'm not going to. There has been enough death, Aislin of the Isle of Mora."

He took his dagger and concentrated on the end, whispering a spell that lit the head of the dragon on fire. After peering at his dagger to ensure it was red hot, he looked at Aislin and turned her face so the side of her cheek was exposed. Her eyes widened hysterically but she only screamed when the burning hot head of the dragon was forced onto her skin.

When he was sure the burn was deep enough, he pulled the dagger away and cooled it, then looked at his handiwork. It was the perfect image of the dragon's head, with the small ridges and the flaring nostrils. Some parts were deeper, the grooves needing to be pressed more firmly so that shallower parts could touch the skin, but the lines were clean and the skin around it perfectly smooth and untouched, even though they were bright red. "What have you done?" she screamed.

Balinor got up off her and said, "No one will kill you. That marks you as my property. It's an ancient practice, but it is still honoured. Without my permission, no other Dragonlord can kill you and I don't know how you'd convince someone else to do it without making more orphans like us. Without betraying more people into feeling the same loneliness we succumb to. You're young, seventeen. Do something with your life. Live, learn, love. Hold onto something. Something that makes you stronger than any dragon could." He waved his hand and her bindings fell away. Tears streaked down her face but he wasn't going to kill her. He didn't have it in him to kill a child.

He went and retrieved his father's sword, limping as he turned to leave the cave. There was an opening not too far ahead and Balinor went left her there. He could still hear her wails as he reached the tree line and marched in the direction of what he hoped was Camelot.

WANTED: BALINOR AMBROSIUS, LORD OF AMBROSIUS, CAMELOT.

BY ORDER OF KING BAYARD

2000 GOLDS FOR WHOMEVER CAN CAPTURE HIM.

DEAD OR ALIVE.

When five days passed and since word had come of Balinor's great escape, but none of his return to Camelot, Tristan, Goloris and Frenwyn had turned to head back to Camelot, empty handed. They were reaching the first village between Mercia and Camelot, still in Mercia's territory but still had a walk to go.

"We've looked in every corner of Mercia for him." Goloris reasoned between Frenwyn and Tristan's silence. "If he had stayed in the city, we would have found him. But he escaped. He's probably back in Camelot by now."

"If he was back in Camelot, someone would have sent us word." Frenwyn said gruffly. "This is all my fault. I should never have given Ector that stupid letter. Now he's hurt and Balinor's missing and Sophia…" He drifted off.

Goloris clamped a hand down over Frenwyn's shoulder. "It was not your fault." Goloris repeated for maybe the millionth time since they left Camelot."

"Yes it is."

Tristan rolled his eyes. He was ignoring both of them. They hadn't brought a scrap of their Camelot uniforms with them, not even dressed in armour. This made it easier to search the kingdom but quite frankly, Tristan felt naked without it. He couldn't believe himself. He had thrown down his sword to save Balinor, but would not do the same thing for Ana.

What sort of a coward was he?

He had thought of it many times over the last few days but quite frankly, if he had returned to Camelot with Balinor it would have been worth it. Uther would have reinstated his sword. If he didn't, Ygraine would give him hell. She was still his sister after all.

But without Balinor back, he couldn't justify what he'd down. His sword and honour had always been the most important things to him, after his family. Something Ana had said to him once made him feel uncomfortable as he replayed the memory. "You would sacrifice yourself for your armour." It hadn't been meant as an insult. Only that Tristan constantly put himself after others. For Uther, for the other knights and for his sister and brother in particular.

Tristan huffed. Ana did not understand. The Headley family hadn't been prosecuted during Vertigern's years and when Uther returned, they had made it clear their alliance was with him and gave him their swords without suffering a single loss. Ana didn't know what it was like to truly fight for the life of someone else and how Tristan could not simply give it up for his own happiness. Not when dangers still lurked. It would have been different if Ygraine had married Goloris.

He looked at his giant-like friend. No one wanted to hurt Goloris. No one hunted him. He still had his ties to Cornwall and could escape there with Ygraine and Agravaine if anything happened. But now Ygraine was a Queen, things were different. People wanted her head to get to Uther and Uther couldn't sacrifice himself to save her as Goloris could have.

"Tristan!" Frenwyn shouted and Tristan startled out of his thoughts.

He looked up and saw they had in fact reached the village. "Sorry. Thinking." he told Frenwyn.

"Are you alright?" Frenwyn asked quietly.

Tristan nodded and dismissed him. He saw an Inn on the main road. "We might be able to buy horses." he said.

Frenwyn nodded. "Let's just get some rest for the night."

At the door of the Inn, there was a hand drawn picture of Balinor, demanding his head for the crown. Tristan normally would have removed it but the likeness was so terrible, there was no chance of anyone identifying him. It was almost dusk and the inside was warm as a fire blazed out of the hearth and a band played music. "I'll get drinks." Tristan said resolutely. Neither argued and Frenwyn went to find a seat in the tavern while Goloris went to barter for some rooms.

The bar maid took his order of three pints and Tristan rested his face in his hands and glared at swirls of the wood, losing himself in the pattern. If Balinor was dead… How was he supposed to tell Ector? No doubt the knight was awake and annoying Gaius and Alice over the whereabouts of his brother.

He felt a headache coming on.

He took the drinks back to Frenwyn and Goloris held out a key for them. "They're full so we must share."

"It's fine." Tristan said, putting the drinks on the table. "I fear I will sleep little tonight."

"Do they have food?"

"Yes, they have food Frenwyn." Goloris replied.

"Don't start me, I'm hungry." Frenwyn got up. "I'll order. What does everyone want?"

Tristan had only taken a few sips of his ale, but couldn't stomach the rest. "None. You two eat and finish my pint." He took the key. "I think I'm going to turn in."

"But you just said you couldn't sleep." Goloris said.

Tristan shrugged. "I can still try. Don't cause trouble."

He headed got out of his seat and ignored Goloris and Frenwyn's matching concerned eyes pressed against his back. He didn't need it. Not at the moment. He needed to clear his head. The upstairs hall was darkened, lit by oil lamps. Even then though, there were more shadows then light. He looked at the number carved into a wooden board, also attached to the keys. Room 7.

He squinted at each room number that weren't quite in sequence. 2. 1. 3. 5. 4…

The door to Room 6 swung open and Tristan was almost knocked over. He took a step backwards as a man in a low hood stepped out with a heavy limp and almost ran into him. Tristan opened his mouth to snap at the man, to look where he was going when he caught sight of who was underneath the hood. "Balinor?"

The man lifted his head slightly and the swollen eyes of Balinor stared back at him. "Well you're a bit late, aren't you?" His cracked lips turned into a tight smile.

Nimueh,

The child is developing well. Her magic is growing at rates much quicker than we predicted. She will be a powerful Priestess. You were right to bring her to us.

But of course your worries are right. The future is a frayed string with many possibilities. Which strand you followed may not come true and with the changes we have made, it still may be possible. Your dreams are worrisome. Maybe you should return to the Isle.

Being within Camelot does strange things to your mind, Nimueh and your loyalty to Uther takes you away from your duties and, ultimately, weakens you. And when you are weakened, so is the collective.

This is not just about you, Nimueh. A change is coming. The prophets predict a War coming to our people. Uther may need you during this time, but you must choose your side. Consider all you have sacrificed for your title of High Priestess.

Please, Nimueh. Come home.

Sincerely,

Elissa.

Nimueh had planned to leave for the Isle days ago. As she sat in the corner of Gaius's chambers she watched one of two reasons why she had chosen, instead, to stay.

Ector.

He had yet to wake up. Gaius said he would soon and that the potion he had given him to keep him asleep for a few days would wear off and he would be fine, but Nimueh couldn't leave for the Isle until she knew for certain. She looked to Julia who sat anxiously on the edge of the bed, Kay in her arms and Flynn seated next to her. Hunith was curled up by the fire, sleeping on some blankets as there was no room left in the chamber. All was quiet and still.

When Nimueh had arrived to check in on Ector, Julia had already been there, hand tight in Ector's as she willed him better. "Nimueh?" Julia had said tiredly as she came in. "He has not woken yet."

"I know. I told Gaius to send word when he did. But I couldn't sleep and thought…" she trailed off. Instead of throwing her out as most normal women did, Julia pointed to the chair just at the end of the bed.

"Sit. There's tea if you…"

"I'll get it." Nimueh poured them both out some cups then went and sat in the window rather than impose on the family.

Julia truly did love Ector. More than anything. It was evident on her face. Uther really did help Ector find true love. Nimueh wondered, if this was what she had truly wanted for Ector then why did it hurt so much?

As Julia's eyes started to shut on their own accord, Nimueh took pity on the young mother. Flynn was fine, curled up at Ector's feet but Kay was still in her arms and at risk of toppling out of his bundled blankets. Even at the late hour, he was wriggling around and awake. Nimueh stood and magically steadied Kay before she even reached Julia's side. "Go to bed." Nimueh said quietly, resting a hand on Julia's shoulder. "You're falling asleep."

Julia yawned and straightened up. "I can't go home. It's so quiet and Kay just won't sleep."

Nimueh sighed and looked down at the baby. She hadn't quite seen Kay properly yet. She always said she had things to do but if Nimueh was honest with herself, it was because of the pain. She could have been Julia, anxiously at her husband's bedside with a baby in her arm. She could have had that life. "I'll take him." she said quietly. "I can't sleep. Too awake. You can rest with Flynn on the bed or with Hunith. I'll wake you if anything changes."

Julia frowned and looked hesitant. "But–"

"It will be fine. I promise. I mind children in the Isle all the time." Nimueh slid her arms beneath Kay before Julia could object and found herself staring at him. Every time she had imagined herself studying Julia and Ector's child, she had imagined this tiny creature with his eyes and hair smile. She had imagined seeing everything that she gave up in a tiny human being but instead, she found herself smiling.

Because Kay was just a baby. She never before thought babies particularly looked like anyone at all and he was just the same. He had dark hair like both his parents but his eyes were blue like neither of them. They would grown and change of course, but his squishiness wasn't definitive of anyone just yet. She could pretend he was just another baby in the Isle. He wriggled in his blankets until his hands reached out of them and towards Nimueh's face.

"He's very beautiful." she said quietly to Julia.

"Everyone thinks he looks like Ector." Julia murmured.

"I don't think he looks much like anyone." Nimueh smiled and with one arm holding him, rubbed her finger of Kay's mouth. "He is himself."

"If he gets too fussy and is hungry…" Julia started.

"I'll wake you. Sleep, Julia. You need your rest too."

Julia nodded and after a long while of watching Nimueh bounce Kay gently from side to side, she rested her head down beside Ector's and closed her eyes. Kay gurgled as Nimueh carried him away from his mother. He was a calm and happy baby. She went and sat by the window again and cast tiny orbs of lights above both of their heads. When Kay caught sight of him he happily reached out to ouch the orbs.

"You are very much loved, little one." Nimueh informed Kay. She traced her finger over his brow and was hit with a vision. It took her a moment to even realise she was in a vision but she saw a knight, holding a shield emblazoned with the Camelot Dragon, standing in front of a magical prince. Nimueh wasn't quite sure how he was magical, but Nimueh could see a young man made from magic followed by a dark shadow in the shape of Vivienne… Only, a man.

Nimueh pulled herself out of her vision, her hand hovering over Kay's cherub cheeks. "I don't know what's going to happen to you, Kay. I'm not a very good seer. I think… I think the Priestesses of the Isle are right. That I should go home and not spend so much time here where the emotions run rampant and the magic is comes second. I'm a sorceress, not a council member." She rested her head against Kay's and rubbed her thumb through his downy hair. "I'm not a mother either. Or a wife."

Nimueh pressed her lips to Kay's forehead just as the door to the chambers creaked open. She looked up and Tristan was holding open the door as Balinor limped in quietly. His eyes met hers across the room and the relief that flooded her was short lived as a soul deep sadness. He acknowledged her with a small nod of his head then limped over to Ector's bed and brushed a hand through Ector's hair. He glanced back over Nimueh. "Is he okay?"

"He'll be fine, Bal. How are you?"

Balinor nodded and shrugged off his cloak and boots then turned towards Hunith, curled up beside the fire. Without another word he laid down behind Hunith, wrapping his arm around her waist and pressing his face into her hair. Nimueh looked to Tristan for answers but he just shook his head. "I'm going to my chambers. I'll see you all in the morning." Tristan answered wearily. "Goodnight, Nimueh."

"Goodnight… Sir Tristan." she added the last part just before the door shut and Tristan gave her a small smile through the crack.

She settled back down in her seat, glad to see Balinor back but unsure of what happened to him. He fell asleep curled against Hunith quickly enough but Nimueh noted how hard he clung. She turned back to Kay and whispered, "Maybe this is no longer my home, little one."

Tristan,

I'm glad Balinor is returned home, safe. You too. Sometimes the crown is heavier than the heart.

Uther.

Hunith hadn't felt so warm upon waking up in a long time. Sleeping on the floor didn't quite leave you with a warm cosy feeling when you woke up but she as certain she hadn't slept in a bed the night before. Her eyes fluttered open and she saw her fingers intertwined with more a masculine hand in front of her face. She blinked slowly, coming to with a large yawn then realised the hand was attached to an arm that slid around her back.

Hunith shifted and looked back then almost screamed in shock and happiness when she saw Balinor's half open eyes staring at her. "Hello." he murmured.

Even though Hunith wanted to jump up and scream for joy, she glanced over to the window to see the sun was barely lit and she could hear the many different snores in the room already. "Hi." she whispered back to him. "What happened? When did you get back?"

Balinor sighed. "Last night. After my escape, I was too injured to walk back to Camelot and couldn't ride either so I rested for a while in a nearby village. I was leaving my room to order some dinner when I literally ran into Tristan. They brought me back the next day."

The anxious pain in Hunith's chest that had implanted itself and grown like an ugly weed ever since it was declared that Balinor was missing started to wither and die. He was okay. He was alright and he was in front of him. "I'm glad." she admitted. "I have to go back to Ealdor in a weeks time. It would have been a shame to have come all this way then not get to see you."

Balinor's smiled, though it did not quite reach his eyes. "That would be a shame. I'm glad you're here, Hunith. I missed you."

"I missed you too." she murmured. She watched as Balinor's face came closer and closer still. His lips parted and she drew in a short sharp breath as they landed on her forehead. Her heart hammered in her chest as she tilted her head beneath his chin and her nose nudged the skin of his neck. He smelt like sweat and the earth and damp wood. "I missed you too." she whispered, even quieter and let her eyes fall shut.

Dear Ana,

It is not about my honour. It is about my family. Being with you means I must give up so much more than my happiness. It means I give up being apart of theirs. I will not sacrifice myself for my armour.

Do not love me any longer. I do not wish that burden upon you.

Sincerely,

Tristan

*some moats were just really big ditches with no water in them… Not as impressive but, you know. You work with what you got.

AN: R&R...

Also, question. I am learning about social media at uni and we have a competition where we're trying to get the most followers on our blogs and it is really hard... Does anyone have any pointers? Because I want to win this thing and not just for the $50 Westfield gift voucher... I also want the bragging rights. :P I'm going to post this on the next chap of OVoE too when I update (Sunday Sydney, Australia time it should be updated)

love,

ithoughtslashmeanthorror