Hiya guys! Thank you for sticking with me all the way up to chapter 4! And thank you for your much appreciated responses! Enjoy!

- Love, Livvy xxx

The cold morning air pinched Arthur's cheeks as he rode his horse towards where he knew Nomed was situated. He could hear his accompanying knights making merry to each other behind him but could not bring himself to join in with their joy at such a time, even if it was just their way of coping with the weight of the situation.

It was mid-afternoon before the black building finally entered the riders' view, becoming closer with every trot the horses took. Arthur would deny his fear at that moment, despite the fact that terror was creeping up in his stomach just at the hellish view before him of the dwelling place of one of his worst enemies.

Nomed was a known and very much despised person within the walls of Arthur's beloved city as he had a certain... obsession with formulating huge magical armies then using them to attack Camelot. He had invaded four times in the past, to Arthur's knowledge, and only two of those attempts had failed, the other two resulting in about two weeks of tyranny before someone (undoubtedly a knight) had forced him out of the city walls. One attempt had been on Arthur's 16th birthday, and Arthur (considering himself a man, now) followed him back to his hide-out after he'd been defeated and forced to trudge home.

The sight of the building brought back memories of war and pain for the king and it took all of his willpower to continue onward.

"Is that it then, Arthur?" asked Gwaine, who had not witnessed one of Nomed's attacks.

"Yes. Let us rest here for the remainder of the day and then we shall proceed at nightfall, to produce the element of surprise on our enemy-"

"Who is...?"

"Nomed."

"Who is...?" Gwaine repeated as they all sat down except for Percival who silently offered to sort the horses by tying them to a tree and feeding them some fresh apples from his saddle bags.

"A powerful sorceror with a habit for attacking Camelot with magical armies. I have a theory that the magic-users in his service do not volunteer, and I think many are tortured into service."

"That would explain why the building resembles a torture house."

"Indeed." Silence.

"And Merlin's in there?" Percival asked as he sat with his friends, the horses now happy and safe behind them.

"I fear so."

"Why would he want Merlin if he's only interested in sorcerors?" Elyan inquired.

"Maybe he's now gone as far as to torture helpless, defenceless, non-magical men also. Coward."

"Hmmm. I hate to think of him stuck in there with that beast," Elyan worded what they were all thinking.

"I hate to think of anyone being stuck in there," Arthur confessed.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, how are magic-users different to us really? By their strange abilities. I think that perhaps..."

"Go on," Gwaine urged, intrigued and fascinated by this sudden change of viewpoint from Arthur.

"Well perhaps magic doesn't corrupt the mind. Perhaps not all magic-users are automatically evil." Arthur looked as though he was in deep contemplation and the other men knew he wasn't lying when he spoke.

"Don't ever let your father hear you say that. You'll be locked up for fear of being enchanted," Gwaine teased.

"You're probably right," Arthur responded, no hint of good jest in his serious tone.

"What brought on this sudden change of mind anyway?"

"Hmm? Oh, nothing really. I've just been thinking hard on a lot of things recently. Magic being one of them."

"I agree." The other men all looked at Percival.

"With what?" Elyan asked.

"Arthur's thoughts on magic. I think the amount of evil in magic depends on the content of evil in the wielder."

"I think that also," Gwaine admitted, "but I've never said before because of the threat of execution at the very word of magic."

"You are loyal indeed for opening up to me," Arthur muttered.

"It's getting dark."

"Soon we shall be moving forward to attack, and we haven't even begun to touch on the intricate plan I have formulated!"

"Well shoot away Arthur," Gwaine hurried, "I'm not sure Merlin has that much time to loose." And how right Gwaine was.