A/N: Not mine. No beta. Upping the rating just to be safe. Hope you enjoy it :)

Chapter 2

The first thing Mordred felt was the incessant pounding in his head. Every heartbeat felt as though he was being bludgeoned. Breathing in to try and calm himself, he drew only musty air. He slowly cracked his eyes to peer through his eyelashes and found that there was a burlap hood sack over his head. That explained the faint traces of turnips he smelled, then. As he catalogued his condition he found that his hands and feet were bound above him and he had been stripped of his armor and weapons. The swaying motion led him to believe that he was trussed to something and was being moved. Moving his hands as much as he could while not letting on that he was awake, he found that he was hanging from a wooden pole of some sort. Right. Nothing good could possibly come from his circumstances. Collecting himself before panic could set in, he sent out a call using telepathy. Receiving no response he began to worry for his men. Remaining calm he told himself that they could merely be unconscious as he had been.

His thoughts were interrupted by a voice somewhere by his feet. "How long we got to carry this blighter, then?"

The answer from near his head confirmed that he was being transported. "Till we get to where the boss says he's headed. You know that."

"But where are we taking him?" the voice by his feet, Foot Soldier he decided to call him, asked.

The man near his head, the Head Soldier responded with, "Boss says we're taking him to the witch's pit. Had some fancy patch on his armor. Thinks he is some sort of special knight or something. One of them damn magic users we heard about. The boss wants information."

"Fancy knight like him won't just talk. Specially one from Camelot. We lost more'n half our men back there and there was only five of the filthy dogs."

The foot soldier chuckled evilly and quipped, "I hope he puts up a good fight. Hope he doesn't just spill his guts. No fun in that is there?" garnering an answering laugh from the head soldier.

"Spill his guts. No I hope he doesn't. Least not till we get to do it for him, eh?" This sent the men into peals of cruel laughter as they applauded their own cleverness.

Mordred again sent out a mental call. More desperate this time. He was in serious trouble. He was calling so loudly and so frequently that he very nearly missed the quiet response when it finally came.

"Who by the blood of the dragons are ye and why are ye yellin' inta ma mind?" The thoroughly irritated voice with the gentle brogue belonged to a woman.

Mordred nearly cheered in relief at finally being able to contact someone. Even if it was a stranger. "My name is Sir Mordred. I'm a Knight of Camelot and I've been captured. Please, you must get word of my location to Camelot immediately."

"Camelot? Nay, I'm afraid that willna be possible. Nobody is allowed to go there. The road is patrolled to prevent people frae even tryin'." The denial was swift and emphatic. Her tone gentled a small bit then, "I truly am sorry Sir Mordred. But men swarm the woods and the road leading to Camelot like bees in an orchard. They've killed all of the ravens just in case some of them were messengers. It's too much. I would die in the effort and I have my own mission here that I cannae abandon."

"I am begging you. Please try! I know that you only have my word to go on. And that you have no reason to believe me. But I swear upon the golden dragon of Camelot that you will be amply rewarded by the crown should you give them information on my whereabouts."

There was a long silence then. So long that Mordred wondered if the woman had heard what he had said of if she had simply washed her hands of him. In time he passed back out, remaining blessedly unconscious until he was awoken when the men carrying him abruptly dropped the pole he was hanging from and he landed roughly on the ground. He wasn't able to stop the grunt he made on impact and the two men laughed coarsely. "Thought that might wake you up," the man he'd identified as the foot soldier taunted. "Welcome to your new temporary home, Camelot scum." And with that he cuffed Mordred on the temple with one meaty fist and knocked him out cold once again.

As the last light from the sun fell the land was enveloped in a lavender robe. It was the sort of autumn evening that felt like summer, never mind that the sun was setting earlier and earlier. The heat of day faded ever so slightly and a gentle breeze blew through the castle as every window was opened wide to encourage even the smallest movement of air to bring relief from the heat. Throughout the citadel the residents were settling in for the night. Ensconced safely in their rooms.

On the bottom floor of the castle, Gaius and Alice had enjoyed a savory meal and were sitting together enjoying a bit of wine as they poured over an ancient tome that Vadoma had loaned them. Detailing the medical advances made by people that lived far from Albion. There was a particular focus on not just physical wounds but also on the toll such wounds took on the minds of people who had suffered them. It was simply fascinating.

Sitting in his rooms Leon was again reading the latest letter from his greatest secret. He had memorized every word. Every graceful swirl of ink that brought his beloved's thoughts to him. There wouldn't be a chance to send another letter out before Samhain and the wait was weighing heavily on his mind.

My Dearest Love,

Knight who holds my heart in his hands. I bring the possibility of glad tidings. There is the smallest possibility that I will be coming to your home for Samhain. There are so very many details to work out that it feels as if the stars themselves must align to afford me the chance for a few precious stolen moments with you. And oh does it grieve me that those moments must be stolen at all. Would that I could call my love for you from the tallest towers. That all in the land would know of the pure fire that is our love. For the flame of my love has not dimmed with the distance between us. My heart is steadfast and belongs only to you. I content myself with the sure knowledge that your heart beats in time with my own. Pray with me that I will be able to travel to you. For surely the Goddess will smile upon us and I will soon see your face again.

Until then, know that my thoughts are never far from you,

Your Guide in the Labyrinth

Leon closed his eyes and prayed earnestly in the dim light. They would be together again soon. He knew it.

In the next room Leheya turned her head to look behind her as she slowly opened her robe and let the fine silk fall from her body in a careless waterfall. Giving Percival a siren's smile she looked at his naked form in blatant approval before slowly bending at the waist to pick up the discarded fabric. Between one heartbeat and the next her strong knight picked her up into his arms and she gave a shriek of delighted laughter as she squirmed out of his hold and ran across the room. Her love giving chase with a booming laugh of his own.

Catching her easily the large man tossed her onto their bed and loomed over her delicate form with a hunter's smile at having his quarry trapped beneath him. The small woman slid her hands up his powerful arms before resting them on his broad shoulders. "Well now you've caught me, Sir Knight," she breathed in a sultry whisper. With hooded eyes she flicked a pink tongue across her lips. "Now what will you do to me?"

Percival dropped his head and placed heated kisses along her shoulders and collarbone, trailing up her neck until he reached the delicate shell of her ear. With a husky voice he whispered to her, "Whatever I want, little sparrow." He traced the skin of her sides with feather-light touches before grinning widely. That grin was her only warning before he started tickling the sensitive skin on her waist. Eliciting more shrieks of laughter from the priestess and breathless promises of swift retaliation.

Gwen shifted in her chair and yawned widely, rolling her head to try to relieve some of the tension in her shoulders. Blinking a few times, she returned her focus to her embroidering. "Arthur?" She asked her husband. "Do you think we should ask Alice to find out what gender the babies are? She mentioned to me that she should be able to delve and find out by about now."

The king of Camelot looked up from his reading and took in the sight of his wife sitting by the window. He couldn't stop the primal flare of satisfaction that pulsed through him as he looked at her. Beautiful and growing with his children inside her. It spoke to something deep inside of him and made his chest puff out in pride. Considering her words for a moment he said, "What would change for you, if they were boys or girls?"

Gwen paused and looked at Arthur. "Well, I suppose I was thinking more along the lines of whether to make the gowns for the naming ceremonies more feminine or masculine? But that's not what you're talking about, I think."

Arthur smiled gently at his wife. "No I suppose it isn't. I've...struggled through the years to break free from my father's notions of what is appropriate for men as opposed to women. For some reason I always fall back to his teaching. Yet in my mind these teachings don't apply to you or to Morgana. You've both been separated somehow for me. I'll think to myself that oh women shouldn't have to go to battle, but then I'll think of how the two of you fight and I can't ever quite make the connection that you're more than capable. Am I mucking this up? Do you know what it is that I'm trying to say?" He looked at Gwen hopefully. She could always see into the heart of him. Understand his meaning when he spoke his thoughts as they formed rather than waiting to have everything settled in his mind as he did with most others.

Gwen raised an eyebrow and shot her husband a playful look. "Arthur! You just admitted that you think of your wife and sister as actual people! I'm so pleased!" She raised a hand to forestall his further explanation and continued on. "It sounds to me that you're saying whether or not the babies are girls or boys you want them raised exactly the same. Am I right?"

Arthur gave a sigh at her putting his thoughts into words better than he could. "Yes exactly that. I don't think it will matter to me. Whichever of those children is born first will inherit the kingdom. Regardless of if they're boys or girls. I don't think I particularly care. I'm just thankful that you're under Her protection while you carry our heirs." He stood up and walked over to his Queen, offering her a hand and leading her to their bed. "And now my lady, I believe we should retire. Every time you yawn it makes me yawn which makes you yawn and it's just not dignified."

Morgana considered her options while she could still form halfway coherent thoughts. It would take but a moment's thought to free herself from her bonds. Her hands were tied and she was resting on her knees. Arms stretched high above her head. Her ankles were tied to prevent her from standing up or moving her legs from their bent position, shoulder width apart. Keeping her hanging helplessly. Her body fully on display. Even less time to speak the word aloud that would end this. Allow the blindfold to fall from her eyes. Not that she wasn't thoroughly enjoying herself. Merlin had exquisitely talented hands. It wasn't the pain pleasure pain of the delicate knife he used to cut shallow runes into her skin. Only to soothe the stinging pain away with his silver tongue and rough words of devotion. The shallow cuts would be healed by morning, leaving no sign they'd ever been there.

They'd worked their way up to this loveplay as he helped her through healing from the trauma of her near violation at Elolam's hands the previous winter. Merlin had surprised her with how masterful and dominant he could be when the two of them were alone in the safety and opulence of their chambers. Her breath caught and she let loose a high whine as her body tensed and her back bowed with the strength of her release. With one last kiss to her inner thigh Merlin moved to kneel behind her and grabbed her hips with strong hands. "We're just getting started, my love," he whispered in her ear. Bringing a wicked grin to his wife's lips. They had all night. And she would be returning the favor by morning.

Elyan stared at the ceiling counting the tiles as he tried again to fall asleep. There were exactly nine hundred tiles but he usually only got to eight hundred or so before he would finally lose consciousness. He groaned as yet another high-pitched shriek could be faintly heard through the wall that separated his quarters from Percival's. He didn't begrudge his friend's happiness but by the gods the two lovebirds could be annoying.

Giving up all thought of even trying to get some sleep, Elyan threw his covers off and leapt from his bed. Storming over to his wardrobe he exchanged his sleeping trousers for a casual outfit and soft boots. If he was going to be awake he might as well review the latest trade agreement proposals coming in from Nemeth. They had unique stone deposits for which the craftsmen of Camelot had been clamoring but their terms seemed uncharacteristically steep.

Elyan walked purposefully towards the large kitchens. A strong pot of tea and some of the pastries that always seemed to be on hand since his sister's pregnancy made itself known would be just the thing to get him through the long hours ahead of him. Giving a nod to the watchmen along his route, Elyan strode through the hallways. He had nearly reached the kitchens when he hears swift footsteps coming from behind him.

Whirling around the knight reached for a sword that wasn't there as he tensed, prepared to swiftly deal with whatever was coming. However he relaxed when a guardsman in Camelot's colors appeared.

"Sir Elyan! I'm so glad to have found you! A raven just came in and sir I think you need to see this missive." The guardsman panted as he held out a small scroll to the confused elite knight.

Elyan took the small scroll and walked over to one of the lit wall sconces to get a better look at what was written. He read the short note three times, verifying that he was really seeing the words and not just confused and tired. Finally he rolled it back up and gave directions for the watchman to alert the guards and to rouse the round table council.

Arthur yawned as he walked into the council chambers, hair sticking up from his head in all directions and with a loose tunic thrown on over his sleeping trousers. He glanced around and saw that the only people missing were Merlin and Morgana. He rolled his eyes and prayed to the Goddess that they were simply too deeply asleep for the guards to rouse quickly. He didn't want to think about any other reason why they would be late to an emergency meeting. Not if he wanted to keep his supper in his belly.

The two in question were but a moment behind him and as they took their seats Arthur wondered at why Morgana was wearing a high necked and long sleeved gown in this heat. His thoughts were interrupted as Elyan stood up and tossed a small scroll across the table to him. Arthur took the note and read it slowly before falling into his seat in shock.

"What does it say, sire?" Gaius asked worriedly. "Has something happened?"

Arthur looked at the old physician with sad eyes. "Yes, Gaius. I'm afraid so. According to this missive two night ago there was a raid on a Druid village by unknown assailants."

The listeners gasped in concern and began talking over one another before Arthur raised a hand to quiet them. "There's more. Mordred and his men were in the village at the time. Because of their heroism the villagers were able to escape with their lives. But," Here Arthur closed his eyes and took several deep breaths before he could continue. "But all of Mordred's men were killed and Mordred is missing."

"No!" Morgana cried and reached out to hold Merlin's hand in despair. "Not Mordred! We have to find him! What else does the missive have to say? Do the druids know where he was taken?"

Arthur passed the note to her with an anguished expression. "According to the chieftain they tracked the men as far as they could but lost them after only a league. The men must have been very experienced to prevent Duid trackers from following their tracks. I'm afraid we have no way to know where Mordred is or if he is even ali-."

Morgana cut Arthur off before he could finish the thought. "No! Don't even say it, Arthur! I refuse to believe that he is dead. Do you hear me! He is alive and he needs to be rescued! We must begin searching immediately!" She turned to her husband frantically. "Merlin! Run to our rooms and fetch my scrying crystal! I must find him!"

Merlin shared a look with Arthur and at the King's nod he left the council chambers to fetch the item for his wife. When he returned Gwen was in his usual seat and was holding a weeping Morgana. Gently running her back and whispering soothing words to the seer. Merlin set the crystal before his wife and took Gwen's usual seat without saying a word. As soon as he was seated, Arthur turned and gave him another look. Merlin leaned close and whispered so that only his friend could hear, "Maybe. She's ones of the most gifted seers in the kingdom but this isn't about premonitions. She's going to try scrying for a single person in an unknown location. It's immeasurably more difficult than, say, scrying a known location to see what is currently happening. But you know she has to try."

Arthur clapped Merlin on the shoulder and turned to Morgana. In an unusually solicitous voice he asked, "Sister, is there anything you need from us while you scry?"

Morgana lifted her head and started in surprise at seeing the crystal on the table in front of her. Wiping the tears from her eyes she shook her head. "No," she said in a small voice. "I just need to focus on Mordred."

Twenty six pairs of eyes focused on the seer as she cradled the large crystal gently, as though it were a child. Her downcast eyes glowed gold and a soft white light began to emanate from the crystal. She became perfectly still as she called upon her powers to look for their missing friend. She stared into the crystal for nearly fifteen minutes before her eyes closed and her shoulders slumped in defeat. Raggedly she whispered, "I see only darkness."