A/N: Sorry for the wait; I honestly have no excuse, as the chapter was sitting, finished, in my doc manager. I won't bother trying to voice the excuses going through my head. Here it is to read now!

"Gwaine and Percival, you're next."

Arthur watched the two knights square up for sparring. He already felt much lighter having taken a rousing victory against Leon; yes, sometimes the best remedy was to beat away the emotions with a sword. The other knights showed similar results. Normalcy. Routine. Daily life as they knew it. And working out to the point of exhaustion helped, too. Sooner or later they simply had to move on.

This particular match was always interesting, as Gwaine possessed surprising power in addition to agility. He could hold his own against his quite larger brother-in-arms. Even Arthur had to admit Percival was a challenging partner. He watched the two of them trade blows and advantages. For once, Gwaine put all of his effort into the task instead of joking around. Next to Arthur and Gwen, Gwaine had probably taken Merlin's death the hardest. The two had been close friends. He barely spoke to anyone for days after the funeral.

Sir Percival gained the final upper hand this time, however. He managed to hook his blade into the end of Gwaine's chainmail sleeve, hampering his opponent's sword arm. A sweep of the foot, and Gwaine was flat on his back. Some of the other knights laughed good-naturedly. Percival helped him back up.

"Watch your follow through after a broad stroke," Arthur commented to the shorter man. "If you let the momentum carry you too far, you leave the outside of your arm open. And Percival, that's an unconventional tactic that could be of use in single-weapon combat, but take care your opponent doesn't pull a dagger when you get that close. Very good, both of you."

The knights nodded. Arthur considered for a moment who to pick next when he heard a sound that put a chill down his back.

The thrum of wings in the open space of the field, just like in his dream.

He caught the blurry red flash in his peripheral vision as the creature swung into view. So unprepared was he for this sudden déjà vu that he gave a yelp and tumbled backward, sword in front of him. All the men within ten feet rushed to see what the matter was.

"Sire!" gruff voices chorused around him.

"I'm alright—don't attack the—" Then he realized the dream-apparition was gone, if indeed it had ever been there in the first place. Arthur wildly scanned the air above them. It hadn't been big—he should still be able to hear it, if not see it, for how wide the training grounds stood. Burning embarrassment started to creep up in place of the chill. "Did any of you see that?"

"Well, we saw you leap back like a woman might at a mouse…" Gwaine offered, though his kidding manner was rather muted with concern.

Arthur knew his face was going red. This was no way for a king to act. Elyan extended a hand to pull him to his feet, which he took. A couple others glanced at the sky as the king had. The whole situation was turning awkward, fast. Finally, Leon spoke up.

"You've been running yourself hard these past days, Sire. I can take over the rest of the session. Go rest," pressed the senior knight. He said it not out of any kind of authority, but as a loyal friend. Arthur sighed, and nodded.

He retreated to the armory alone, refusing the help of a servant on gut principle. Goodness knew he was perfectly able to remove the armor himself. Back in his daily court clothes, he decided to return to his chambers, though rest was probably out of his reach for the moment. His heart wouldn't let itself be calmed after such a startling episode.

Perhaps he should ask Gaius for a tonic of dreamless sleep. He felt stretched to the limits, like a drumhead retightened again and again. How much more of this grief could he take before he split into ragged pieces? Before he became useless to the kingdom that depended on him? A brief vein of ire coursed through his chest—it wasn't fair! What gave Merlin the right to cause everyone this pain, when he didn't have to stick around to face it?

But his late servant's torture replayed in Arthur's mind, and he knew he couldn't stay angry. He still felt the ragged last breaths as he had tried to make Merlin comfortable, knowing there was nothing he could really do. The young man's terror and pain in Arthur's dream, again as he was kept helpless. If Gaius' word was to be believed, no one had taken more punishment than Merlin, who had silently shielded them all from destruction over and over…and over. And Arthur had never been so robbed of power in his life. He kicked the nearest wall in frustration. Maybe a physical stubbed toe could take the edge off this emotional torment, maybe not. He really couldn't care less at the moment.

A light wind brought him out of his thoughts, swirling through the open windows. No hint of strange flying creatures. That conclusion didn't keep him from tensing at the gentle noise, however. He resumed the trek to his chambers at a quick pace. He nearly made it, too.

It started with a flash of red. Arthur jumped as he swore he saw the mirage-like form pass the windows. Unfortunately, it proved to be the least of his worries. From around the corner at the far end of the hall, a dripping, reeking, disfigured visitor stalked toward him. He recognized its appearance from years earlier…but it couldn't be here now…he had killed it! Hadn't he? And anyway, how would a noxious mud monster get all the way up from the catacombs without being noticed?!

The toothy maw roared, clearly fixed its senses on Arthur, and charged. Arthur dove into his chambers, slamming and locking the door behind him. This wasn't possible. Something had to be making him hallucinate. Or he was just going mad. He prayed that wasn't the case. Please, don't let him be going mad…

Outside, the hallway was quiet once more. Arthur heard no snuffling or other indication a hulking terror waited outside. After waiting several minutes to confirm his hearing and return his heart rate to normal (the latter was only somewhat successful), he ventured to peek outside.

The sunlit corridor was empty. Completely empty. Not even a splotch of mud left behind.

"Arthur?"

Thunk.

"Ouch!"

Still way too tense, Arthur managed to knock the door into his own head, which cleverly got pinched between the heavy wood and the stone doorframe. "Ahwww! Really? Did you have to sneak up like tha—oh, Guinevere." His face burned again with more than just pain.

The queen stood in the doorway to the dressing chamber. Her expression floated between concern and bemusement. "Um, Arthur, what are you doing?"

"I—well, uh—there was—you see—um—nothing?"

"You never were a good liar, at least when you were caught in the act." Smiling, she led him to the nearest chair, where she sat him down to see what he'd managed to do to himself. "Oo, you broke the skin a bit with the door."

"Well, that wouldn't have happened if you hadn't taken me by surprise," Arthur grumped. Gwen dabbed at it with a damp handkerchief, then kissed the tender spot near his right ear. Of course he couldn't keep up the sour mood when she coddled him like that. Suddenly all the adrenaline dropped out of him in one load; perhaps he could use a nap after all.

"Now, what's this really about? I know you still think of Merlin a lot. We all do."

Arthur huffed a sigh. "I just haven't slept well…keep expecting to see…well I thought…" He pinned Gwen's hand where it hovered at his cheek. She pulled up a chair for herself with her free hand. "It's hard to explain…"

"He was the closest friend you had, there's no shame in missing him. But that doesn't account for you peeking around the door like a curious maidservant."

"It sounds barking, Gwen, and I'm fine now—"

"You are not! When you turned around one would have thought something was coming after you!" Gwen cut over him. She looked wholly concerned now. He knew she wouldn't let the matter go. The longer Arthur sat, sheepish and miserable, the tighter she clung to his hand. Her patience was another incredible feature. "Please, Arthur. You can tell me anything that's bothering you, you know that."

"Well…" croaked Arthur. Perhaps telling someone would help. He swallowed hard. "I thought I did see something…"

"What? Or who?"

"Remember that water plague years ago? Turned out it was a magical creature sent by an evil sorceress?"

Gwen nodded, a little confused.

"It came back. Charged at me in the hall."

"Arthur, exactly how much sleep have you gotten lately?"

"I swear, Gwen, it was there! It got close enough that I could smell its breath! I ducked in here, and after a few minutes…it was just gone. Not even the mud footprints left."

"Long-dead creatures don't just appear and disappear in guarded hallways, Arthur—"

Arthur smacked his fists against his knees. "Except it did! And that wasn't the first thing I saw, either—I saw this shimmery flying creature, twice today! It was in my dream last night, and then there it was, gliding over the training grounds—"

"The other knights saw it too, then?"

"Well, no, but it was there! I could hear it, feel it. Merlin was also in my dream, it looked like he needed help—"

"Arthur, you're speaking nonsense! We all deal with death in different ways, I know, but this—"

"It's magic, I bet you anything!" Now that he was talking, Arthur had to make her understand. "It's the only possibility left. Gaius told me—well—I tried to sort through Merlin's things yesterday, and there was this book…he was studying magic, Gaius confirmed it."

Gwen's hands flew to her mouth, horrified. This pause in their exchange gave Arthur the chance to calm down a little.

"I…I need your honest thoughts, Gwen. Have you ever…wondered if magic wasn't all bad? That maybe, in the right hands, it could be used for good?" His mouth was annoyingly dry. He registered that the water goblets were at the other end of the table, but he didn't have enough motivation to go get it. "Gaius was of the opinion that Merlin wasn't just a magic user, he was magic. Some powerful warlock who was supposed to help bring peace to all the kingdoms. I need to know what you think."

Gwen's face was torn between several emotions. "I-I-I—your father decreed it was—"

"I don't mean based on what the laws say. That doesn't matter right now. I want an objective view of…of whether or not my father was right in the first place."

"Well, we've seen many instances over the years in which magic was used for evil," Gwen started slowly. "We've both lost parents because of it…friends, trust, hope…but…" She swallowed hard. "My father took me and Elyan once to see a troupe of performers from a distant kingdom. Once of them knew magic. He made…the most wondrous images out of everything. Flower petals, fire embers, even someone's spilled wine. It was beautiful…I was only five, mind you."

"When you don't see every day, it can easily be fascinating," Arthur agreed. "Troupes have come here to Camelot many a time. Though the last time we had one, my father ended up dying for me…"

"But in many of the other kingdoms, magic is widely accepted for its uses in medicine, if nothing else. Isn't that what Gaius and some of his fellow physicians used to practice?"

Again Arthur nodded. "A strong advantage, to be sure. I just can't decide…are the good uses worth risking the bad ones?" This question hung in the air for a minute or two.

"I guess…that depends on how much value we place on the good," mused Gwen, her voice hardly above a whisper. "Stealing has its punishments, but that hasn't completely stopped people from trying it. And we haven't outlawed trade of all kinds just to try to stop thieves."

"Gaius said Merlin's magic saved us at times. I can think of moments—maybe an enemy lost his weapon, or something distracted them—that seemed like happy coincidence. Or when your father recovered from that plague."

"Or when you survived the questing beast's bite," Gwen pointed out. "It was supposed to be without cure."

Arthur's brain really clicked into gear. "Or when I went to find the morteus flower to save Merlin. There was this presence, when I thought I was stranded in the cave. It showed me the way out. I even thought I heard someone urging me to save myself…figured it was my own selfishness back then…"

A smile spread on Gwen's face. "But it was Merlin, wasn't it? He talked in his sleep a lot during the fever. Strange words I'd never heard before."

"He always had a way of sounding like my conscience. Or at least the voice of reason," Arthur chuckled. He couldn't help it. Merlin did have that uncanny ability to know when they were bound to run into trouble. Not to mention sometimes having a hand in getting them out of it.

"But with all that power, why wouldn't Merlin have tried to push for change?"

"Oh, he stated his opinions, sure. I thought it had more to do with the offenders as people than as wielders of magic. He never pressed the matter farther than was appropriate, though, or if I told him to stop." Arthur thought fondly of the banter he and Merlin used to exchange. "You know, the first time we met, I threatened to take him out with one blow. He said he could take me apart with less. I never thought more of it."

"We all have secrets, I guess."

Arthur fixed Gwen with a nervous look. "Do you believe it? That all this could be true about Merlin?"

"I think it's possible. I don't have any proof for myself, of course. But I always had a sense that there was something more to him than he let anyone see." Gwen bit her lip. "In the end I guess we're all just waiting for someone who will understand who we are."

"And if Merlin did have magic, do you think he could really be trying to tell us something now?"

"I don't know. I'm not exactly the best person to ask about magic."

"But…you don't think I'm going mad, or anything?"

"Arthur, this is hardly the strangest thing you've ever done, with or without the influence of magic." They stared at each other for a minute as this sunk in for Arthur. He was loathe to admit it, but she was right. That didn't entirely reassure him, however, as Gwen seemed to pick up. "If it bothers you so much, go see Gaius. He'd be mostly likely to know the answers out of everyone in this castle. And if it's not magic, maybe he can help with the dreams at least. He used to for Morgana."

A quite different lump rose in Arthur's chest. "For all the good it did her…"

"Her unwillingness to forgive is her fault, not the fault of her abilities or Gaius'," Gwen insisted, though the memory clearly bothered her as well. "You're not like her, Arthur. As long as you're willing to accept help, I think it will find you."

Arthur pulled Gwen into a hug and a quick kiss. Once again her willingness to stand by him was all the bolstering he needed, even if she couldn't quite understand what he thought he saw. He still wasn't sure he believed what he saw. The past two days had been a confusing blur. Nothing felt the same, which was saying something after the upheaval of losing Merlin. If they couldn't trust themselves, who could they trust?

Reluctantly, he released her. "Thanks for listening. Every day you remind me why I'm so in love with you. I'll see you at dinner?" he asked as he headed for to the door.

Gwen's lovely smile returned. "Wherever you need me to be."

A mischievous streak bubbled up in his mind. "Be careful what you promise. We are lawfully married, remember?" She blushed fiercely, but didn't protest. Arthur reined his wilder thoughts in for her sake, turning serious. "You're the reason I can keep going, Guinevere. I wouldn't trade this for anything in the world."

"I know."

He left the chambers in much better spirits.

"The hallucinations have only occurred today?" Gaius asked for the third time, while he leafed through a book of herbs.

"If that's what you must call them," Arthur groaned, "yes." He had been poked, pinched, blinded with magnified lights, had his breath smelled, and a couple of things he hoped no one ever found out about for the past twenty minutes. Medical diagnosis was sometimes a strange business. He decided he would stick with being king.

"Well, I can't detect anything that suggests you were given an herb or potion."

"What about spells?"

Gaius paused. "Possibly, though no particular signs are jumping out at me."

"Jumping out, very funny. Could it just be slow acting?"

"I'm not ruling it out, Sire. But I don't pretend to know everything about magic. I'll keep looking in what books I still have."

"Thank you. There might be a few in the relic vaults, I think. I'll get them for you."

"That would help." Apparently turning up nothing for the moment, Gaius closed his current volume. "You sound much more positive about the whole matter. I don't mean to pry, but—"

"Yes, Gaius, I have continued to take it into consideration. I've wondered from time to time if my father's ban is still in the kingdom's best interest, to tell you the truth. Circumstances have often dissuaded me, of course. I won't deny I still have a…gut reaction at the mention of magic. However, I did as you suggested, and thought back over the times Merlin might have…helped."

The court physician let out a little smile. "What was necessary at one time is not usually necessary forever. I don't fault your father for his actions, only for his refusal to consider change. You yourself confronted him about severe measures more than once, I believe."

"I did," Arthur admitted. "I thought he was ignoring the circumstances under which some were driven to magic in the first place. Perhaps if we worked to relieve their desperation, they wouldn't feel a need to hurt others."

"You have grown into a wise and fair king, Sire." Their conversation was interrupted by the sharp whistling of a boiling liquid. Gaius bustled over to his worktable, snatching up a cloth, and using the fabric to lift a glass container from the little fire. After a minute or so, he poured some of the solution into a clean vial. "In the meantime, here's something to quiet your sleep. This whole thing may yet resolve itself. None of the apparitions have touched you, correct?"

Arthur shook his head.

"Then there's no sure reason to think they even can. Let me know as soon as possible if anything changes, good or bad."

"I will Gaius. Thanks again."