Gwaine was in his apparently usual drunken state. If they hadn't before nearly every patron of the tavern had come to know him on a first name basis after returning from their quest for... he refused to let the name slid through his newly built barrier. He would rebuke the fact that he was trying to hide from his memories and that alcohol and women were the best distraction he could find. He sat on a precarious wooden stool with a drunken grin and a constantly refilled tankard. Forcing the urge to stare down at the tankard and fill it with tears away he swaggered over to a woman. He guessed she was beautiful but even things like that had lost their shine. She had garnered double takes and whisperings as she had entered so, as the resident knight, Gwaine did what he did best and flirted with the woman with no drink. "Hi I'm Gwaine. I was wondering why such a beautiful women was sitting in here without a drink?" he said mock incredulousness drifting in his slightly slurred speech. The women smiled up at him. She replied in an equally flirtatious tone "I know who you are. I'm Nimueh and I've been sitting here waiting for someone with a brain to offer me one. But see as no one's here..." with that last thinly veiled taunt she rose and strode past the disbelieving faces and out the tavern. Gwaine followed garnering a wolf whistle as he flashed a grin back at them.
She walked with the composedness and air of a noble yet dressed in the clothes he would always be comfier. "You're hardly pompous enough to be a knight of Camelot. I like that. But still you're on the side of authority now. Can't be the loveable rogue, can't publically drown your sorrows, can you anymore Sir Gwaine?" Her voice drifted from mysterious flirtation to malice and mockery without a care in the world. She most probably did not know the high strung nerve she'd hit in the wide eyed slowly sobering, curious man. She...intrigued him to say the least. He was too caught up in his thoughts to notice the vindictive smile upon her face. That was until she turned around palm raised and her eyes glowed the forever unsettling amber gold.
A young black haired boy ran through the castle, eyes wide and darting. He screamed for the man who had helped him and then the blonde man, who had been kind to him before, was there holding him in place asking questions with eyes full of concern. Mordred struggled for breath and murmured unintelligible words his voice hoarse from screaming. "Arthur, look." He rasped his voice grating to his own ears, one limp hand pointing toward the setting sun, toward where a woman stood and as he watched she blasted a long haired knight away from her. The Princes eyes widened and he didn't notice, like his now fully sobered friend Gwaine, the smirk on the black haired individual getting ready to attack right behind him. He turned to ask how the child had known of this and as greeted by a lifted palm and light gold eyes and a smirk he had never thought he'd see on that face. He was lifted and thrown out the window. He hurtled toward the cobbled ground his eyes fixed on the cold vengeful smirk on the boys face. He closed his eyes as he fell quicker and quicker. Then all the momentum he had gathered left; he had stopped roughly an inch above the ground. His head was rocked back by the sudden stop and he blacked out. Only one thought went through his mind 'But he's just a child...'
Emrys smirked at the twin modus operandi the first attackers had chosen. The clichéd words 'Like Mother, Like Son' drifted through his head. He saw as one of the guards rushed toward the Princes prone body. The word disgusted him, how did ancestry define power! The man sounded the alarm and many guards rushed out of various archways. A cold bitter laugh and biting mockery was in order. They had 200 fighters and they thought it would be an even fight! Even if they had 800 more men Camelot would never be safe. They weren't invading because to be honest that wasn't fun it was simple assassination, albeit with the flamboyancy of magical aid. He nodded at the raven haired woman watching the proceedings with a cold smirk and happy eyes and Vivienne smiled at them and closed her eyes. Her soul flew from their safe place and sped toward her once lover chambers in the 'impregnable' city.
Uthers mind was a minefield of madness and it would explode quite often. He had never regained full sanity after losing both De Bois sisters at once. He believed himself responsible for what he believed to be two deaths and he was responsible for one. Then his half broken mind smashed as he lost his beautiful ward and it was ground to dust when the new set of sisters rose to rule the land. He knew one thing in the deprived morass of his brain, any remnant of the women he had loved he could never hate. Even as Morgana smirked at him, Arthur held a sword to his throat he would be unable to experience that one emotion toward them. He over compensated that absence on the bane of his land, the magic that hung in his every waking moment dangling above him, just out of reach for destruction. He missed his twin lights unknowing that one would visit quite soon.
Many of the staff that weren't helping guard the citadel saw the nearly forgotten noblewoman drift toward the Kings Chamber but none believed what they saw. Uther did when the beautiful woman drifted through his door looking just as she should, every inch the queen she could have been if he hadn't found Ygraine first.
"You let us both die, old King. I was stabbed through the chest by a group of magic hunters. It didn't hurt, not as much as seeing you fall into this abyss. Where is the man I loved? You are no longer that man. You are an aberration. I am dead at your hand, like my sister, like my brother. I should have told you so much before you became this abomination who crushed life from our beautiful land. That you are the evil not the magic. That magic lives forever here. That you are the accursed shadow upon every life here. There is one final truth before your eyes and your heart grow still and you hear no more. We both hate you. From beyond the grave our hate kept us here. More powerful than life and death is our hate for the man who killed us both. And you are so scared." she said her voice loud and clear and by the end of the speech her voice sounded so like her daughters. Bitter jeering resentment and cold anger was all she had for him. So the trembling frightened man ran out of his chambers as afraid as he'd been the last time he'd heard her voice. She drifted next to him, smirking, never falling behind laughing at the terrified King who ran through the place he'd believed safe. He didn't realize that nowhere was safe from her anymore.
A dark man watched through the attackers minds as they carried out their tasks and he let one black yet happy thought rush to them 'Now we truly begin. ' and five matching smirks graced golden eyed faces.