Dwyn's POV

Later that night, I lay looking up at the stars. Though I felt tired, my mind was whirring with life and would not allow my eyes to close.

Suddenly, I heard soft footsteps, and a sword being drawn from its sheathe. I turned over, my hand on my dagger already, as it had been all night. Squinting through the darkness, with only the light of the moon and my small campfire to aid me, I saw Arthur making his way into the icy forest alone. He looked intent and determined, as though searching for something that had been following him for a while, though not following anyone else.

I stood up and drew my cloak over my shoulders, tucking my dagger into my boot, I trotted over Arthur's path lightly, following his footsteps. Finally, I emerged into a large clearing. Arthur stood in the middle, his back to me, he hadn't even heard me approaching, which told me he was deep in concentration.

"Arthur?" I said softly.

He started slightly, then turned to me, his sword down at his side, at least he'd recognized my voice. "Dwyn." He said, as though resigning. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard you going, and I followed you, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I just heard something."

"Well, I'll leave you to your thoughts." I said, bowing my head slightly, I turned to leave, but in a moment, I heard him resheathe his sword and I felt his hand on my arm, gently stopping me. I couldn't get over how different his touch was from Lancelot's. Where his left bruises, Arthur's left tingles.

"I want you to stay with me." He said, breathing out a stream of fog.

I smiled at him, turning back to face him. He removed his hand from my arm, and it took all I had not to frown. But then, he lifted both his hands and placed them on my cheeks. I breathed in and looked up at him, unable to rip my eyes from his, which were now a light shade of green. He leaned down slowly, and I let my eyes fall closed.

Suddenly, a twig broke in the darkness. Arthur turned and drew his sword. At the same time, he used his left hand to push me behind him. He gripped my arm as a figure emerged from the mist and began coming toward us. Arthur tensed, and I could hear his breaths quicken. He seemed…angry.

"Peace between us this night, Arthur Castus!" The man said. I peeked over Arthur's shoulder to see that his croaky voice matched his appearance. He was old, with a beard and a painful look on his face as he walked.

"So, Rome is leaving. The Saxon has come. The world we have known and fought for is ended. Now, we must make a new world." He said.

"Your world, Merlin. Not mine. I shall be in Rome."

My eyes became downcast at this. Could he really leave? Once we got back to wherever we were going, was he going to just walk away from me? It figured, I could never get rid of all the other morons dying to marry me, but the one person I'd ever truly cared about was leaving me behind. I felt lonely already.

"You think peace? The Saxon will come to Rome."

"My Knights trust me not to betray them to their enemy."

"Rome was my enemy. Not Arthur. We have no fight between us."

I all of a sudden felt as though I was seeing something meant not to be seen. This Merlin was a Woad, I could tell by looking at him, and this was their battle, not mine. But Arthur's hand on my arm kept me rooted in place, like the bottom stone in a wall.

"You tell that to the Knights you killed before my eyes! Whose bones are buried in this earth!"

"…we have all lost brothers."

"You know nothing of the loss I speak!!" Arthur screamed, and I jumped at the sudden harshness in his voice, something I'd never heard before. "Shall I help you remember? An attack on a village. The screams of an innocent woman."

Arthur's arm fell back to his side, releasing my own arm, and I could tell painful memories were flooding in one him from every direction. I moved out from behind him and came to his side. This time, it was my turn to put my hand on his shoulder.

"I ran o the burial mound of my father to free her." He pointed his sword at Merlin. "To kill you."

I looked at Merlin directly, and for the first time, found his eyes on me.

"I did not wish her dead." Merlin said softly. "She was of our blood. As are you."

Arthur at last followed Merlin and I's eye line, and again stepped in front of me.

"Lady, if you hold any sway with him, please, convince him to stay and fight for his country. It is his as well…and yours."

"Don't bring her into this! I will not have her in the middle of a war!"

"She is already in a war, Arthur. She has suffered just as much as you. She has as much right to stay and fight the Saxon as any man."

"I don't care! This is not my battle! Britain is not my home, and you are not my ally!"

I hated seeing him so angry, and I could not help but slip my hand into his. He looked down at me in surprise, and for a moment, I was terrified that he would pull away. But he didn't, he only turned back to Merlin, torn between who he was and who he wanted to be.

"My men are strong, but have need of a true leader. They believe you can do anything. To defeat the Saxons, we need a master of war, why do you think I spared you in the forest?"

Arthur turned away, as did I, our hands still entwined. Yet Merlin's voice rang out through the clearing one last time.

"That sword you carry is made of iron from this earth, forged in the fires of Britain. It was love of your mother that freed the sword, not hatred of me. Love, Arthur."

He paused, but I could tell that he did not want to show any sign of weakness, so he took the first step, and I took the rest.

We parted awkwardly, though I could have sworn that it seemed just as hard for him to let go of my hand as it was for me to let go of his.