Hi! This chapter's a little shorter but I already have the next on written so that'll be up real soon. I'm also going to have to change the rating to M pretty soon so prepare yourselves for that... anyways Enjoy! Disclaimer: (Since I ought to put one of these just in case) Nothing Merlin-related is mine!

Chapter Seven: Up in Flames

Arthur was beginning to grow tired of his heart racing—something he'd always loved.

There was the constant bombardment of terrifying new things, the mortifying car rides, the guns, the chases and the running—and worst of all his heart erupting in his chest every time Merlin even got close to him. Arthur wanted nothing more than to crawl back into his bed in Camelot and stare at the ceiling until he understood what his racing heart wanted. Of course—this was impossible.

Unable to make conversation with his friend around the knigh—soldiers, Arthur sat silently as the self-propelled cart rumbled down the long flat road. The village was far behind them, and Arthur had to admit that these new clothes were more comfortable than his armor which now rattled around in the storage hatch on the back of the "car". He'd heard it called the "trunk".

Cars were horrifying. Loud, reeking of the blood of the earth, and far too fast. Merlin had warned him time after time throughout the hours they'd been riding to relax or he'd "have an aneurism". Arthur didn't know what this meant, but if his trusted companion was warning him against it, he knew it was bad.

Once the king relaxed his grip on the seat and squeezed his eyes shut, his pulse became steadier, leveling out as the rumbling of the mechanical beast became less of a terror and more of a lullaby. Arthur's body grew heavier, his head lulling to the side in a way that felt very much like dying had—bur he drifted off knowing he was headed for a far less permanent destination.

He dreamt of Camelot.

The citadel which rivaled the strongholds of gods-Ageless, timeless towers reaching valiantly toward the sky. The streets of the white city bathed in the colors of hundreds of people, all grateful they were kept safe by the paradise in which they lived.

Arthur dreamed of the light pouring through his bedchamber windows as Merlin threw open the curtains and made some irritating joke that Arthur had always secretly found funny. He dreamt of the clashing of swords on the practice field and the sandy clearings of the tournaments he nearly always won. He dreamt of the soft light in the meadows at dawn, the anticipation of a warm bed after a long hunt, and of the faces of those that made him feel like he was on top of the world. Arthur's heart flooded with every memory which felt as real as though he'd never fought at Camlan, and still spent his days riding through the forest, camping under the stars with the knights, and with Merlin.

The once and future king's heart skipped a beat when he felt a hand fall on his shoulder.

"M—Merlin." Arthur's heart was lost in the wilderness beneath the night sky—his manservant seated across from him with firelight in his eyes.

"Arthur wake up, we've stopped."

Arthur's shot upright into reality and for the first time in the longest time he felt tears well up in his eyes. He'd grown excellent at hiding his pain and did so now as he blinked away sleep and looked up into Merlin's thoughtful gaze.

"Hard to believe you fell asleep in the car." Merlin said as they aided the other men in unpacking the "trunk". Merlin had seemed shaken ever since the episode in the back room of the store. Arthur felt again the pang of fear that had surged through his body when he saw merlin convulse and collapse. He prayed it wouldn't happen again.

"It's about two miles into the wilderness." Eli addressed them. They'd pulled the moving cart into a small patch of "asphalt". Beside this an even smaller building that was surrounded by little red, metal idols that Shane and Landon were attaching the car to. Arthur could smell the stench of the fuel he'd seen them use earlier. A few other vehicles were strewn about the manmade clearing as well, leading Arthur to believe they might not be alone.

"You boys are going to like the castle." Liam said as they began to trek into the forest. "Lots of survivors just like you two. All of them friendly. We've got rooms in the castle and then people have started setting up little houses for themselves in the ruins of the town inside the walls. Things are starting to look up a bit—I think. So far none of those killers have been able to breach the walls. Whoever built this place built it right.

"Right…" Merlin seemed distracted. He was looking around almost frantically, with a distant gleam in his eyes like he was forcing memories to the surface. The forest was heavy and deep green. Everything had changed about the land since Arthur's time and he knew nothing would be familiar to him, but still, perhaps he had ridden these woods once. The thought sent his heart lower.

"No…" Merlin said quietly after a long period of nothing but birdsong and boots crunching through moss.

"What?" Arthur whispered to his friend.

Merlin's breath was coming quicker, his eyes turned to Arthur with panicked sympathy flickering somewhere deep in his heart.

"Arthur, maybe we should turn back. We don't have to be with these people. Maybe the castle isn't our place right now." Merlin whispered. Arthur could tell when the sorcerer was lying to himself.

"Don't be stupid Mer-lin." Arthur teased, but he saw real concern in his companion's eyes.

"Listen, Arthu—"

"It's about time." Shane interrupted just as they broke through the veil of trees into a sparkling meadow. Golden light bathed the grass and illuminated the wildflowers. A wave of familiarity washed over the king as he raised his eyes to where Liam was pointing.

"Welcome to the Castle."

"No." Arthur swallowed, but his throat had turned to stone. No. No please. The king shook his head, feeling every horror, ever fear, every wave of sadness he'd stifled since rising from Avalon break over him like the pounding surf of the sea. His skin frosted over with ice as the blood rushed from it while his heart thudded like it was trying to pump molten lead through his veins. His body was numb as he scanned the stronghold before him, breath catching as disbelief and denial faded to panic.

Camelot.

"No, No god please no." Arthur begged aloud. Merlin was rushing toward him but his world was spinning, all except for the castle that rose atop a green bluff before them.

The walls had crumbled, clearly beneath the weight of some terrible siege. The earth had been toiled into trenches all along the walls as evidence of Camelot's final battle. Black burns scorched the towers like shadows climbing the stone. Age hung from every window, all warmth sucked from the citadel by the crushing hand of time. Arthur had known the possibilities since he'd first awakened in the lake, he knew that Camelot was no more—but never in the king's life had he thought he'd live to see his kingdom in ruin. Every monster lurking in the back of his mind came bubbling up from the blackness. This was not his own time. His people were dead. His kingdom was dead. Camelot was in ruins and it ripped through Arthur's heart like Mordred's blade, killing him all over again.

The once and future king swayed beneath the weight of his anguish. He heard Merlin calling his name but Arthur's mind was far from reality. It was all he could do not to clutch his breaking heart as the pain grew too heavy and forced him to his knees. White hot tears boiled from his eyes as his every memory screamed from the back of his mind. He let out a cry of tormented sorrow and crumbled.

"Camelot…" he muttered as shock overcame him, sending him spiraling into blackness. His body gave out and the last thing he felt was his face pressed into the grass and a pair of warm arms wrapping around him.