Author's note: Hello everyone! I've decided to bring my attention back to my two Merlin stories, this one and The Pooch of Camelot. I hope I won't keep you all waiting for so long, but I won't make any promises. Ah well. Enjoy!


Dawn broke over the spires on the castle of Camelot. The air was crisp and still held on to the chill of early spring, despite it being mid-summer. Within the first hour of the day, the population woke and began their busy day-to-day activities. Within the streets, merchants were selling their wares with loud, boastful voices. The scents of newly baked bread and of fresh vegetables wafted along the roads and filled the houses with enticing aromas.

In the castle itself, the training field was full of the clashing of steel, the glinting of morning sunlight off highly polished armour and the smell of sweat on an already exhausted brow. And, with one final blow, the servant fell to the floor and could not find the energy to rise to his feet.

Arthur stood above the man, and was ready to retort him for being so bad at duelling when he stopped. How often he had seen Merlin in that very same position... and yet Merlin had always been ready to stand up and take another trashing that would have him on his back. He'd shown endurance beyond what Arthur had believed possible in a servant.

He'd shown Arthur a lot of things that he hadn't believed possible in a servant. And a lot of those things he had been shown to exist in himself until...

Arthur shook his head and offered the servant his hand. The man took it graciously and slowly got to feet. He waited patiently for Arthur to release him and continue with the training, but was instead surprised when the prince patted him on the shoulder, albeit somewhat sadly.

"Get yourself cleaned up and see what you can do in the kitchen," Arthur ordered, not looking at the man. "The knights will be out soon and I can have a decent workout."

The man looked down, dejected at the prince's casual tone of his inadequacy with a sword. However, the servant made no mention about it, but merely nodded, bowed and left for the castle. As he was about to enter through a servant's entrance, he looked back at the prince and wondered what had brought such a thoughtful look upon him.

Arthur did not turn to watch the man leave him, and so did not notice the man's pause. Nor did he notice the arrival of Morgana, or how she rested on a wall nearby. Instead he looked blankly out across the field, with only one thought entering his mind. How could one man have affected him so much, regardless of who and what he was?

Morgana watched Arthur in silence, unsure on how to break him out of his reverie. She had often watched him train with the knights or by himself. She had noticed how his stance had changed. A year ago, it had been strong, full of pride and valour and a vibrancy that could only be matched by his value for life. But now, it was cold, precise and had a lacklustre feel that mirrored Arthur in such a way that it was disturbing.

Feeling suddenly saddened, she turned away from his back. Movement was caught in the corner of her eye, and Morgana turned her head further to see what it was.

It was a figure, bent over and clinging to a pole for support, as if that was all that was keeping them standing. A cloak obscured the face from view, but Morgana could see that this person was in great pain. Whoever this person was, they were heading straight towards Arthur.

Obviously this person had no idea on how dangerous it was now to disturb Arthur, even if he was just staring into a blank space. Morgana ignored the fact that the blank space was probably have been filled with a specific person had they not died.

Deciding that it was probably safer for the figure to speak to her than to the prince, she rose from the wall and approached the cloaked individual. She was still a fair distance from the person when they suddenly tripped and fell to the ground. The pole, that they had been holding, reverberated with a thunk...thunk-thunk. There was no movement.

Holding onto the person's shoulder, the hand turned the individual over... the hood was removed and below she saw...

"ARTHUR!" Morgana screamed behind her as she picked up her pace and began to run to the fallen form.

From the pounding footsteps, she knew that Arthur had heard her and was coming to her aid. She didn't care for her dress or the pain that shot up her legs from her knees as she crashed with the cobble. She threw her hands over the figure and turned them over, with the hood still retaining the person's identity. Without a second thought, she carefully took the hood and pulled it back.

"L— Lancelot?!"Morgana stuttered, shocked at what she saw.

The man was a mess. His face was covered in scratches that looked days old, and he had one black eye. His hair was matted and was stained with dirt and something else that Morgana feared to name. She didn't want to look at what injuries he hid beneath the cloak, but from how he had fallen, she guessed them to be terrible.

Lancelot's eyes flickered open, and for a time they were unfocused. Eventually they rested on Morgana and recognition filled them.

"Milady..." Lancelot whispered, before he coughed and scrunched up his face in pain.

"Lancelot, what happened?" Morgana asked, desperation clear in her voice. "Who did this to you?"

By this time, Arthur had joined them and had knelt down to look at Lancelot. He raised his head to look at the arriving knights. He yelled for one of them to fetch Gaius before turning his attention back to the injured man at his side.

"Lancelot," Arthur commanded. "Tell me: What happened?"

"I... never knew," he muttered. "I... never knew they could... be so powerful."

"Who?!" Arthur demanded, ignoring Morgana's stern face.

"I don't know... who they were. So... powerful..." Lancelot shuddered and a gasp escaped from his lips.

"Rest Lancelot," Morgana instructed softly, giving Arthur a look to dare him to ask any more from the poor man.

She stroked his head and gently ran her fingers through his hair. She pulled out some of the grime and it crumbled in her fingers, and she felt her stomach drop as she realised what it was: dried blood. She looked to Arthur with the hopes that he could explain something that, deep down, she knew he couldn't possibly answer.

Arthur was spared the spotlight as Gaius entered the scene, Gwen at his heels. The handmaiden stopped in shock and raised her hands to cover her open mouth. Her eyes were wide with horror, and frightened tears ran down her face.

Morgana moved from her position beside Lancelot so Gaius could take her place, and she took to standing beside Gwen. She didn't speak, not knowing what she could say.

Gaius, however, was unfazed by the sight and went straight to work. He checked the young man's vitals and declared that he was well enough to be moved. Several knights approached to help Gaius move Lancelot to the physician's chambers.

Morgana nodded to Gwen for the handmaiden to follow the procession, and found herself alone with Arthur. She was aware of the calculating look he was giving her.

"You weren't expecting him, were you?" Arthur asked finally.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Morgana replied hotly, not liking Arthur's cold tone.

"You were expecting someone else... someone other than Lancelot beneath that hood," the prince stated confidently. "Who were you expecting?"

"I was expecting him... just... not how badly his injuries were," Morgana stammered.

"I don't believe you. Who were you expecting, Morgana?" Arthur asked, a dangerous tone laced his voice.

"It doesn't matter," Morgana stated.

"The fact that you were expecting someone else matters, and the fact that you don't want to talk about it matters," Arthur insisted.

"What I saw..." Morgana began. "I think it means that Lancelot was attacked by..." she trailed off, unwilling to speak.

"By who? By what? Morgana!" Arthur shouted. "If this is important, then you should not keep it to yourself."

"I think he was attacked by the same people who..." Morgana caught Arthur's eyes and looked down. "By the same people who killed... Merlin."

Arthur's face turned from one of annoyance to one of pure and utter shock. Within a few seconds, his mind flew into action, and all the thoughts, hopes and beliefs that he had considered dead sprang back to life.

"It... it was Merlin you saw, wasn't it? Wasn't it?" Arthur asked.

Morgana bit her lip and looked at him, trying her best not to shed the tears that she could feel swelling up. She had known that he would have this reaction, and she could see the hope, total confidence and desperation in Arthur's eyes.

It made him look like the man she had known a year ago, back when he had been so adamant about Merlin being still alive. She had never seen him so sure about anything as he had been back then, and she remembered how he had changed once they finally managed to make him realise that Merlin was gone. Somehow, she had always believed that that had been the true day that Merlin died, because that had been the day that everyone stopped looking for him.

That had also been the day that the old Arthur Pendragon had died, leaving behind this hollow, cold imitation of the man that everyone admired. And now, here she was... staring at the ghost of that man, and knew that she had to kill him once again.

"It couldn't have been Merlin under that hood. I don't know why I even allowed myself to think that it could have been him," Morgana stated, hearing the threat of a break in her voice.

"Morgana... can't you see that he's still alive? After all this time? Maybe I stopped looking just before–"

"Arthur, stop!" Morgana begged, trying her best not to burst into tears. "Please don't start this again, after a year. Merlin's dead. He's gone and he's not coming back! Entertaining the thought will only hurt later on, and it will hurt everyone around you, everyone who knew him," Morgana looked at him, her lips trembling. "Please don't."

"I never found his body, Morgana," Arthur reasoned, but it was obvious that he was desperately clutching at anything to keep his hope alive.

"Come on, Arthur! You were there! You saw him die. You can't possibly think that after all this time, he'll just show up," Morgana pleaded.

Arthur was silent, but looked straight into Morgana's eyes. It was obvious that he was looking for some weakness, some point of entry, anything that would help him win an argument that he knew he had no chance of winning. He knew he couldn't win, but desperation wouldn't allow him to back down and admit defeat. For one reason, he wasn't sure if he could handle giving up again.

"Let's see to Lancelot," Morgana suggested, knowing that the argument wasn't finished.

Arthur nodded, not trusting his voice. He waited for Morgana to walk a few steps before following after her. He was on her heels at every turn, keeping pace with her. They walked in silence, but they had been doing that so often over the past year that the lack of sound seemed normal, whether it was awkward or not.

Arthur jumped in front of Morgana and opened the door to Gaius' chamber. He stood back to allow her to enter and then joined the rabble that had formed in the tiny room. Everyone stood aside to let Morgana and Arthur pass and stand at Lancelot's side and speak to Gaius.

"I'm afraid that he is in no condition to speak to you, Arthur," Gaius explained solemnly, gesturing to the several injuries that now presented themselves with Lancelot devoid of his cloak.

"We need to know who did this Gaius. We need to know how much of a threat his attackers are," Arthur reminded the physician.

"Well, that may be, but I am not prepared to let you ask questions of Lancelot. He needs rest, not badgering," Gaius protested.

"Maybe we won't need to," Morgana stated quietly, looking firmly at Arthur and Gaius alike.

"It's too crowded in here," Gaius stated. "This is a place of rest, how's he meant to get any rest with this rabble in here?!"

"Everyone, out!" Arthur ordered, and all but Gwen and a handful of knights left the room. "You as well," Arthur commanded.

"They can stay Arthur," Morgana interjected.

"But Morgana-"

"Don't you trust them?" she asked.

"It's not about trust, and you know that," Arthur insisted.

Morgana looked at him with her trademark glance and he could see no reason to prevent the knights from staying. With that argument finished, Morgana sat by Lancelot's head. She stroked his hair affectionately.

"I don't want you to worry. I'm not going to hurt you," she promised. "Just think back to the event and I'll take it from there."

Lancelot nodded weakly, closed his eyes and began to concentrate. Morgana placed her left hand on his forehead and closed her own eyes.

"Ad 'm canfod," she recited with ease.

"Magic?!" one of the knights whispered. "If the king finds out about this-"

"My father is not going to find out," Arthur interrupted, giving all the knights a look that demanded obedience. "This is Morgana, not some evil sorceress."

"It's... hot... so hot..." Morgana whispered. "Burning... everything's... burning..."

"What's burning?" Arthur asked, turning his attention to the young witch.

"The outpost, the village... everything," she answered. "It's so bright, I can hardly see. I've... I've got to get of here."

"Can you see anyone?" Arthur insisted, trying to help Morgana find a direction.

"No... everyone's gone... everyone's... dead..."She turned around, looking for something... anything... a way out.


Everything was burning. The flames reached up to the sky, as if to try and scorch the stars themselves. The heat itself was choking, and the smoke made the air unbearable.

"Can you see anyone?"

"No... everyone's gone... everyone's... dead..."

There were people lying in the fire, curled up, their bodies blackening as the fire consumed them. No one was alive, only her. If she didn't leave soon, she'd join them. She couldn't join them, she wouldn't join them.

She had to live. She had to survive. She had to.

There! A gap in the fire. It lead to the woods. She could escape this fiery death. She could live. She only had to get there.

Running... so hard, so fast... her chest was heaving as she breathed in the smoke, as her heart raced with adrenaline and the desire to survive. Her muscles screamed as she drove them to the limit and beyond.

"Got to get out... it's so hot... I've got to get out!"

The fire burned against her skin as she ran, but she was unfazed by its fury. Suddenly, a beam fell in her path. It blocked the way completely.

Turning round, she could see that there was nowhere else to run, nowhere else to go. She had to go forwards. She had to take the risk. She had to, if she wanted to survive.

She flung herself over the beam, feeling its heat scorch her face and body, and landed awkwardly on the ground. She ignored the pain and got to her feet.

"The woods are so close... I can reach them."

Her feet finally touched the cool soil that lay beneath the trees. She paused as she caught her breath and looked back at the inferno that she had just escaped from. She was certain that she had been the only one to escape. Certain and saddened by the fact.

"I'm out... I'm in the woods."

"Is anyone else there?"

"I can't see anyone else... wait..."

"What do you see?"

"People... two people."

"What do they look like?"

"I can't tell, they're wearing cloaks... I can't see their faces."

The figures began to approach her. For some reason, she knew she couldn't trust them and she stepped back. She knew that something wasn't right.

The taller of the figures raised their hand to her, a strange light bubbled up within the constraints of their palm. The way the light danced was so hypnotic. Even when the light was so bright, she couldn't turn away. Even as it came towards her, she stared at it in morbid fascination.


Morgana jerked her head back and screamed. Her body was completely still and relaxed, yet it sounded like she should have been writhing in agony. Apart from the scream, the only telltale sign of pain was her face, contorted into a gruesome expression that shocked even Arthur.

Arthur longed to pull Morgana away from Lancelot, but he knew that he couldn't. Besides, he had no guaranty that the vision would stop if he did pull them apart. He could only stay by her side and wait. He felt so useless, unable to do anything... just like when Merlin had-

No! He wouldn't think of it. He needed to keep his thoughts firmly planted in today and the now, not yesterday and the moment passed. He needed to be here for Morgana.

"Morgana? Can you hear me?" he asked worriedly.

"This... this pain..." she gasped. "They're going to kill me! I... I don't want to die!"

"Morgana, this has already happened," Arthur explained, trying to help her gain control of her vision. "This isn't your pain. Move through it and tell me what's happening."

"They're... they're torturing me... I don't know I much more I can stand. They-" she broke off suddenly.

"What Morgana? What's happening?" Arthur pushed.

"The smaller one, she's told the other to stop. They're going to let me live. They say that nothing can be done to stop them," Morgana recited.

"Who are they?" Arthur asked gently.

"I don't know," Morgana shook her head. "The other... he's speaking."

"What's he saying? Morgana what is he saying?" Arthur demanded, noticing that her eyes were beginning to focus on him. She was leaving the vision.

Morgana blinked and looked at Arthur. An apologetic expression entered her face, and she bit her lip. She shook her head sadly; she hadn't managed to hear what the other individual had said. Her attention then turned to Lancelot, who had stirred beneath her hands.

"He told me... to tell you," Lancelot explained weakly. "That this time... You won't have some idiot servant to do die in your stead."

"Idiot servant?" Arthur echoed, a dark look entering his face.

Merlin.

Then, without a word, Arthur stood up. He turned around and stormed out of Gaius' study, slamming the door closed behind him.