AN: So I'm super happy. A few favs and follows, plus a ton of views, and a comment or two; is good enough to make my entire week! Thank you thank you! Here is the next story. The general style of this fic will be a bit of the present plot, then a flashback to how everything came about, and then another chapter in the present. Here you go!

11 months earlier...

The beast was black. The yellow eyes glinted with what surely was hatred, right? It couldn't possibly look... sad. Arthur wouldn't allow himself to think that, anyways. This was a beast that had been terrorizing Camelot for a few days now, and something had to be done.

So Arthur dismissed the definite look of sadness and regret in the cat's eyes. Instead, he focused on the wings, claws, and teeth. The wings because although they had the monster cornered, it could potentially fly away and he would have to return to his father, facing more disappointment.

He would be defeated again.

He focused on the claws and teeth for entirely different reasons. The claws, because they were long and sharp and almost shiny in the moon and torchlight, glinting deliverers of harsh pain. The prince of Camelot wouldn't want to wish that kind of injury on any of his knights. Leon stood at his right, sword arm cocked back and other hand balancing the weight as he readied to strike, unsure of what the creature would do. The teeth, brought to the forefront of Arthur's mind when a loud growl erupted from the pink mouth, were sharp, and they were bared. The wings gave an experimental flap, but the creature seemed indecisive as to whether to fight or to flee. Be the predator, or be the prey? Arthur, on the other hand, held no qualms about being predator. It's better than being dead. He also had no qualms about taking the life of the mindless beast which had threatened his people and kingdom. The beast's muscles tightened in its back legs, and Arthur saw this as a sign of preparing to spring. He was about to counter that oncoming spring with a strike of his own, but something stopped him.

He doesn't stop because of someone's voice, at least; not directly. He stops because he simply cannot move. Unless he is experiencing some kind of instant paralysis, that can be cured by a very helpful and eyebrow-raising physician, this is magic. Sorcery. And it has the prince of Camelot in its midst. His eyes can still move, and they look frantically to the left and right, looking for his knights. They all seemed to have suffered the same frozen fate. Why would a sorcerer want to stop him from attacking this beast? Is it some kind of pet?

"Freya!" Comes an all-too familiar shout. Merlin, that idiot manservant, rushes onto the scene. His hand is outstretched, palm towards the frozen Arthur. With the familiar head of black hair and the normal brown jacket covering a red shirt and his blue neckerchief, which he apparently thinks is somehow cool, he is the same old Merlin. Almost.

Arthur does a double-take. If he could blink or pinch himself, he would have done so. Because what he is seeing is something that simply cannot be. Merlin, of all people, can't have magic. Magic corrupts, turning people into beasts and monsters and making them ruthless. Magic is evil. And yet, there was his clumsy, forgetful, spends-too-much-time-in-the-tavern manservant with eyes aglow in a powerful gold. The normally pure blue of innocence is turned by the touch of magic into a color that represents wealth but also destruction and all that comes to the prince's mind are the times his father has told him of the perils of sorcerers and how they should be immediately burned at the stake. Arthur had always thought that Merlin was an open book and a bad liar, but maybe that was all part of his guise. What did someone like him hope to gain from befriending the prince of Camelot? Probably a title, power, maybe even manipulate the king or future king and take the place on the throne of Camelot. A sorcerer, right by the prince's side. Oh, wouldn't their enemies laugh, Arthur thought bitterly.

All these thoughts ran through Arthur's head in a split second.

Merlin was stroking the creature's ears, and the creature seemed to be responding. It certainly wasn't preparing to eat the manservant… sorcerer. With a start (if possible, in his current state) Arthur realized that the big cat-like beast was purring. Merlin's hand was still pointing towards Arthur and the knights. After a moment, Merlin stood and strode over the Arthur.

"Arthur, I'm sorry. But I couldn't let you kill Freya. That..." He turned back to her and gave her an I don't really mean what I'm about to say smile. "...bastet, is really just a cursed druid girl."

This was news to Arthur, but it didn't stop him from struggling against his magical bonds. So what if it's... she's... a cursed druid? Magic is magic.

Magic is magic.

Merlin has magic.

"And I'm sorry for not telling you. About everything. I'm leaving, with her now, and we're going to break her curse. I also know that you won't accept me either..." He trailed off. It was hard for the prince to get over the perpetually glowing eyes, as the sorcerer maintained the bonds holding Arthur captive. It was also hard to hear the truth in the sorcerer's words.

"So we're going to leave. The spell will fade when we've gotten out of Camelot. Please don't chase after us. But, if you so choose, you could say goodbye and thank you to Gaius for me. I'll miss him. But we have to go now." He glanced up at the moon, slowly drifting towards the horizon and dawn. Abruptly, he took off running. The beast... girl... followed him, as if knowing that he was going to do that. Arthur was still frozen, but he wouldn't have been able to move it he tried.

This must be what it is like to die, he told himself.