That night, they'd waited until the others had fallen asleep before they'd risked discussing things further. They'd been lucky: Gwaine was on first watch, so all Merlin had to do was stay up with him.

They'd talked about things, nothing really, as the knights slowly dropped off around them, snoring gently in the darkness. Only once they were sure there was no one left awake to listen, did they talk more freely.

"So what's it like seeing the future?" Gwaine asked the question that had been burning his mind all afternoon. He glanced at Merlin. The firelight was illuminating both their faces an eerie yellow.

Merlin looked sidelong back at him, smiling slightly. "It's… difficult," he admitted.

"Difficult?" Gwaine was incredulous, but in a joking manner. "What could be difficult? You'd win every bet you'd ever make!"

"It's not as simple as that."

Gwaine sighed, "It never is. So why is it difficult in particular?"

Merlin gazed into the fire. He'd never had to put this into words before. He was even a bit surprised that Gwaine was asking, given how unquestioning he'd been of his magic. He pulled back his shoulders, straightening his back a little, and tried to explain. "Imagine," he said. "That you could meet yourself as you were five years ago. Imagine you had a conversation and you told yourself that you were now a knight of Camelot and that you were working for a prince who you considered to be a close personal friend. How do you think the younger version of you would react?"

Gwaine looked surprised at the question. "I dunno," he said honestly. "Guess I would have been a little – shocked I suppose, given I was the sworn enemy of all nobles back then – and given that I never wanted to be a knight after what happened to my father."

"Precisely!" Merlin exclaimed. "You were a different person, you lived by different standards and different rules. You could never have imagined what was going to happen in the future, what you were going to become. But you've changed. All those things that have happened to you, every moment of every day, has shaped you. You're like a river, always shifting with the flow of water: you're the same river now, you just follow a different course. And it doesn't seem that odd to you now, does it, being a knight?"

Gwaine looked at him searchingly. "I guess it doesn't," he admitted. "I hadn't really thought about it."

"Well, that's what it's like," Merlin said, turning to the fire again. "I saw all these things, things that don't make sense, or at least don't make sense to me now. It was like being dropped into the middle of a story, and seeing my friends as though they were strangers. Some of the things I saw were terrible, and it's so hard to imagine how our lives could possibly change so much." He sighed. "But like any story, the further you travel from hearing it, the less clear the telling of it becomes in your head."

"So you're saying you saw the future – but now you can't remember?" Gwaine wondered, confused.

Merlin shook his head. "It's not that I can't remember," he told his friend, smiling in spite of himself. "It's – I suppose – it's just that the details trouble me less. Moments still stand out," His eyes looked into the flames, and then beyond them, becoming unfocussed. "I see peace in the lands… great battles," he whispered, and Gwaine, unknowingly, shivered at his words. "Knights riding to victory. I see Arthur proclaimed king…" Merlin flinched, and Gwaine saw his gaze drop to his hands, looking at them as though they were not his own. "But there's blood," he whispered, turning his hands over. "So much blood…"

Gwaine quickly reached across and wrapped his strong fingers around Merlin's wrist, seeing his friend begin to lose himself inside whatever the hell it was he was seeing.

He jumped, and his eyes sought Gwaine's, instantly snapping back to the present. Gwaine nodded at him, and let him go, but he still watched him closely as Merlin swallowed uncomfortably and tried to shake away the thought of what he had just seen.

"Well, mate," Gwaine said eventually. "You've got yourself a good one there. I'm not sure I envy you."

"You shouldn't," Merlin said immediately, and breathed in deeply, feeling the cold night air flow into him like a healing tonic.

Gwaine considered him, accepting what he had been told with the same ease as he had accepted his friend's magic, though he had to admit it did leave him with a sense of disquiet. There was something about seers that had always made him feel uncomfortable. Probably just that sense that everything he was ever going to do had already been mapped out for him. Gwaine didn't like the idea that his decisions were not all that was driving his fate.

Not that it mattered now. His friend had asked him for help, and that's what he was going to give. "So what's this problem you were telling me about this afternoon?"

Merlin shifted, having another glance round the sleeping knights. All was peaceful; still, he lowered his voice. "After the training session yesterday," he said. "Arthur had me doing all this extra stuff, getting him ready for today, doing the horses, the weapons, and by the time I got home I was so tired I just wanted to drop straight into bed and sleep for the rest of time. But when I got back to Gaius's chambers, I started to feel unwell. I can't really describe it. I just sort of blacked out, but Gaius told me the next day that I'd started speaking: something about darkness coming from beneath us, and three crows dancing in the firelight; that it was going to break our hearts."

"Break our hearts?" Gwaine wondered, with a little smile. "Maybe you're going to fall in love."

Merlin glanced at him, realising that he was trying to lighten the mood, and he smiled back. "I don't think so."

"And that was unusual?" Gwaine asked. "What happened? That's not the way you've normally been seeing the future?"

Merlin shook his head. "No. I saw it as it will be, like I was standing there in the middle of it. This was – I don't know what it was. I don't even remember it. And those words mean nothing to me. I don't know what the darkness is, or the three crows."

"Could it just mean nothing?"

He shrugged. "Possibly, but Gaius doesn't think so." He turned to his friend. "I'm – scared Gwaine," he admitted frankly. "I'm scared it'll happen again. I'm scared what it means."

Gwaine was curious. "Then why come on this mission?" he wondered. "Surely Arthur could have spared you just this once. You could have stayed with Gaius, got this all figured out."

"I can't leave Arthur," Merlin said earnestly. "He needs me, he needs what I can do."

"Even though he doesn't even know?" Gwaine wondered. When Merlin looked at him he went on: "Maybe it's time you told him the truth."

The warlock shook his head firmly. "The time is soon, but the, the laws against magic still hold true. If Arthur were to find out now, I genuinely don't know how he'd react, or what he'd do to me. And I need to be at his side. I'm the only one who can protect him."

Gwaine made a face and poked the fire. "Seems to me you take an awful lot onto yourself."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you're Arthur's servant, you take care of him, you're his councillor, you're his protector. But who in all this looks after you? If you're so vital to Camelot, someone should be taking the same care of you as you do for Arthur. And yet you're out here leaping about collecting firewood and throwing yourself into danger. You're every bit as important as Arthur is, Merlin. Just because you're a servant, don't ever forget that."

Merlin smiled sadly. "Thank you," he said.

"I mean it," Gwaine said. "And from now on, I'm going to be looking out for you like you do for him." He stretched. "And now, you should get some sleep. I'm guessing being tired isn't going to help any of this."

"No, probably not," Merlin admitted. He rubbed his hands on his trousers and pulled himself tiredly to his feet.

"And Merlin," he turned back at Gwaine's words. "Don't worry. Whatever these visions are, whatever they mean, we'll figure it out. You're not in this alone."

Smiling again, Merlin nodded, before turning away and walking to his spot by the other knights where he could settle down and try to get some much needed sleep.

It had been an uneventful night, and none of the watches experienced anything unusual, which was a relief given how close they now were to Cenred's kingdom. With all the rumours flying around about dark armies rising out of the ashes of the old, Arthur had feared that the night would bring trouble. He'd slept fitfully, half expecting to be woken by an attack at any moment.

But when Leon had shaken him out of his sleep shortly after dawn, everything was as it should be. Peace reigned over his companions, some of whom were still asleep.

Arthur suppressed a groan as he pushed himself upwards. Sleeping outside without a tent was never his first choice, and however many times he did it, it never became less uncomfortable. He felt grimy and damp, chilled to the bone, his arm aching where he'd lain and pressed it into some rock or tree root or other hard object.

Still, he couldn't be seen to show weakness, not with so much responsibility resting on his shoulders. The knights looked to him now for leadership, pretty much exclusively since his father was in no state to command. And the knights needed strength to follow, not someone who moaned about having to sleep on the floor. An aching arm he could get over, and when he moved around he'd heat up soon enough. No point in complaining.

He looked around the clearing, trying to wake up and get his bearings, plan in his head for what needed to happen before they could set out: how far they were going to need to travel that day, what dangers they might face. Strategising was, after all, one of Arthur's strong points, and he was able, within only a few minutes of waking, to have the entire day mapped out in his head, from breakfast to making camp again that evening.

As his eyes wondered over his men, subconsciously checking them for any signs of weakness, lack of spirit, or injury, his gaze fell upon his servant. Merlin was still curled up on the ground asleep, head pillowed on his jacket, undisturbed by the sound of the camp stirring around him.

Sighing a little in annoyance, Arthur marched determinedly over and was about to give him a friendly kick to wake him, when he suddenly remembered what Gaius had said about Merlin being ill the day before. It occurred to him that his servant had seemed more listless than usual, and his verbal sparring hadn't really been up to the same standard. Still, he couldn't sleep all day.

"Merlin," Arthur said, more gently than his might have otherwise, and gave him a shake.

The boy was awake instantly, sitting up with a start, and clasping Arthur's hand, still hovering close to his shoulder.

Arthur was startled by the reaction, but tried not to show it. "Come on," he said encouragingly. "No time for a lie in."

Merlin blinked at him, and seemed to be trying to steady his breathing as he looked about. Then he nodded. "Of course sire."

"You okay?" Arthur asked quietly and with just a hint of concern.

Merlin smiled instantly. "Fine," he stated.

Arthur accepted that without question, and nodded, getting up and moving over to the fire to see who if anyone was sorting out breakfast.

They were moving again well within the hour, their camp site erased behind them: all signs of the fire put out and buried, dead leaves spread across the forest floor to disguise where they had been sleeping to all but the most skilled trackers. The mood was good, as far as Arthur could tell, and the knights chatted amongst themselves, occasionally laughing quietly, although they remained on their guard, and one or two were always instinctively silent and keeping watch at the fringes. They were well trained.

Arthur noticed that in the midst of the group, Merlin had fallen in beside Gwaine instead of taking up his usual position beside him, and he wondered at it vaguely, stacking it up in his mind with the rest of his servant's unusual behaviour on this trip. The two weren't talking much, and unless he was mistaken, Gwaine was occasionally stealing Merlin concerned glances. It was odd, but not odd enough for him to question it, and if there was a genuine problem, he had to trust his men enough to bring it to him without having to force them to confess.

In any case, he found it was distracting him, and angrily turned his attention back to the trail in front of him.

"Elyan," he called.

"Sire?" he heard a horse trotting up beside him, and turned to see Gwen's brother appear obediently at his elbow.

"Your patrols have scouted this border?"

"Many times in the past months, my lord."

"And they've encountered resistance?"

"Frequently," Elyan told him. "Two missions out of three I would say were attacked well before this point."

"But you would say we are still on Camelot's soil at this point?"

"I would sire, but I would also say that the border is contested."

"Hm," Arthur said, pulling his horse to a stop as they reached a vantage point on top of a small ridge looking out over the forest. Below them, a slow moving river meandered its way through the trees, which were thinning as they reached the forest's edge. Beyond were fields of what looked like well-tended crops, and far beyond those the ground ridged up into hills. "The agreed border was at the edge of this forest," he said, looking down. "But that treaty was drawn up years ago."

"Do you propose to cross the border?" Elyan wondered. "Such as it is."

"I think it might be wise," Arthur considered, looking back round at his men. There were 24 of them with him, a small band perhaps, but all armed and trained as knights of Camelot. Surely enough to turn back all but the most determined opposition. "We're hardly an invasion force, but if there is a new king here, I for one would like to meet him, and find out why he is harrying my men beyond his borders. There has been no answer to any of the correspondence we have sent, and none of your scouting parties have been able to make it much beyond this point have you?"

"A league at most sire."

"The men who attacked you," Arthur looked at him questioningly. "They were bandits you think?"

Elyan looked a little unsure. "They were dressed as bandits, and they were unskilled. But…"

"What?"

"These last few times, when they attacked, they appeared to be wearing similar livery. If they are bandits, they are becoming more organised as I have reported. That tied with the rumours that we have heard in the border villages led me to make my assumption that a new ruler had taken the throne here."

Arthur went back to scanning the countryside in front of him. "But a bandit chief wouldn't bother to dress his soldiers in uniforms," he commented. "So who exactly is in charge?"

Elyan shook his head.

Arthur looked back at him smiling. "Let's find out," he said. Turning to his knights he raised his voice. "Men," he shouted. "We are soon to come close to the border. Be on your guard at all times and prepare for attack. We've no idea what we may face. But I wish to journey as far as I am able into Cenred's kingdom. It is vital that we gather as much information as possible about what is going on here and what potential threat it is to Camelot. Be vigilant and take note of all that you see, however trivial."

With that, he turned back, and spurred his horse on down the ridge.

They forded the river easily enough, the water splashing to their horses' knees and leaving the riders with wet feet, but they were over without incident. On the other side, Arthur turned them east so that they could travel towards the edge of the forest in a diagonal line, taking advantage of the cover of the trees for as long as possible. And in that manner, they travelled for maybe an hour, slowly and cautiously, all of them silent now and attentive, prepared for danger. But none came. The knights cast about in the forest for movement, but all they saw were wild beasts, which fled at the noise of the horses' hooves on the forest floor.

Arthur didn't know what to make of it. If his men were being attacked here so often, then why had they been allowed to pass so far unchallenged? It was unnerving. Surely any new ruler worth his salt would be guarding his border against incursion? Surely they should have seen someone by now, a scout, a party of armed men, something?

In Arthur's head, it implied they were walking into a trap.

The light began to grow brighter as the trees thinned out a little around them, changing to conifers and birches as opposed to the oaks and ashes of the main section of the wood, and further spaced apart. It gave them less cover, but also allowed them to see further around them, and they were comforted that there was still no sign of danger.

Arthur turned and signalled that Elyan again should come closer.

"Did any of your patrols make it this far?" he asked quietly.

"No Arthur," Elyan assured him. "None of them."

Arthur opened his mouth, about to ask him something else when his gaze was suddenly drawn to a small hillock to their right, rising steeply off the forest floor, and thickly carpeted in pine needles. At the top of the hill, in clear view, stood a small group of horses, perhaps 15 or so, with men, and he noticed, a couple of women, sat on top of them, all in armour, and all wearing similar colours.

This Arthur took in in a manner of seconds, before shouting: "Knights!" as a warning and drawing his sword. The knights instantly moved their horses around in a defensive position around Arthur, facing the threat and prepared for attack. But the men on the hill didn't move. Then one of them at the front pulled back the hood that had been shading his face.

It was Alvarr.

TBC

Review response (I don't usually!)

Jane Mays - Hey, okay so thanks about the review heads ups. Have opened it to all. In response to your point, it's a fair one. But in my experience, people often move on to better jobs or take on more responsibilities, but because they're so trusted with (and often enjoy) what they used to do, they end up doing those tasks as well. Merlin is still a servant, but he isn't doing all the menial things any more.

Felicity P and The Junebug - Seems rude not to say thanks, since I'm responding anyway... So thanks :o)