Daylight broke out through the trees, shining into Merlins face. It was warm sorts of light, making his skin feel the faintest bit hotter. He turned over, seeing Arthur lying fast asleep a few feet away from his own spot. Very few knights were moving about, even though everyone should've been awake much earlier. Merlin groggily sat up, thinking about how now they were all turned around from where they were supposed to be going.

King Uther was sat up against the large trunk of a tree sleeping soundly as his head lolled from side to side in slow, steady movements.

"I don't want to wake him," Merlin jumped at the sound of his masters voice, looking over his shoulder. "I think I might take a few of the knights and scout ahead – you know, let him get his beauty sleep and all." He gave his trademark smirk, as he stretched his arms out above his head.

"I'll go with you, when you're ready of course." Merlin stood up, looking around for his cousin. In truth he would've talked with her and looked at how much she'd grown, but he'd spent most of the night standing over his aunt's grave. He thought about how he'd practically been a mother to him after he'd had to move in with them, she loved him like her own son, and now she was just gone. It must have been a great deal worse for Shilo though, having to bury her own mother and she seemed to be over it by herself in just a small amount of time.

"Get the men ready then, let's get going, we'll need to leave someone to stay and watch my father of course."

"Yeah, I'll see if Galen will do it," Merlin began to stand up, seeing spots from standing too fast. He stumbled over to Galen, poking him in the side to get his attention.

0o0o0o0o0

"Your Majesty, there's a rather large rip in your shirt," Shilo pointed out from her place on the stump of the tree.

"It's nothing," He muttered, turning back to watch for his sons return.

"I-… I could sew it if you'd like," She murmured, giving him a hopeless look. She stood, coming up no higher than his chest. He froze for a second, noticing her more than he had last night or earlier this morning. She wasn't tall, but she was strangely thin, too much to be at all healthy at the very least. Her raven black curls cascaded down her back, smooth and soft. Her skin was pale as porcelain, free of blemishes and looked as soft as butter – skin that any woman would kill to have as their own. Her blue eyes were the color of liquid sapphires, but had seemed lighter last night; perhaps it had just been the darkness. He shook his thoughts from his head.

"I don't think it appropriate for me to undress in front of you," He didn't actually, he wouldn't mind at all. But it would still be indecent in his position, no matter how much he wanted to. Good God what was he thinking, in the first place he shouldn't be having these thought running about his mind – he'd only met her last night among other things, such as the fact that she was probably only about sixteen years of age.

"I'll close my eyes," She gave him a warm smile, turning around and jutting out her hand to take his shirt. He didn't hesitate now, immediately reaching to untie and remove his top layer of clothing. The yellow sun instantly warmed his skin, and he set the fabric in her waiting hand. His fingers brushed hers, lingering there longer than he should of, they were long and lithe as she wrapped them around it. At his touch she turned around to meet his gaze, blushing the most bewitching shade of pink as she saw his bare torso.

"I-I'm sorry."

She disappeared into the ashes of the house, emerging with a needle and a spool of thread. She sat back down on the stump and began to patch up the rip. Uthur watched intently as her fingers flawlessly led the needle in and out of the fabric. "So what's in Bayard's land?"

He startled, averting his eyes to stare at the unmoving trees,each one growing slightly taller, slightly older - even now. It wasn't appropriate for him to notice peasants, no matter their appearance. His ancestors may have not been above bedding their subjects, but he was. That was it then wasn't it? He'd just gone so long without the company of a woman he just couldn't help himself.

"Just a few court matters about a treaty." He cleared his throat, he wasn't really accustomed to answering a direct question from a commoner. She nodded, unnerved by the silence that kept growing between them. Shilo gave a hiss, cursing under her breath as she pricked herself with the needle. She set aside his majesty's shirt, not wanting to stain it with her blood. Uthur turned around, watching – amused- as she flicked her hand back and forth.

"Are you okay?"

"What? Oh yes, I'm fine your Majesty," She shrugged him off, wiping off her bloody finger on her skirt. She didn't dare look at him, he was without clothing, it would be a ludicrous act. Uthur noticed that her own dress had rips and holes on it, but she'd not bothered to fix them.

"I'm almost done," She assured him, wiping off her finger once again and beginning to sew. Pulling tight on the last stitch she ripped the thread with her teeth and handed him his shirt. He pulled it on, muttering a thank you as she tried to look away. For a seemingly old man he was incredibly well built, taut muscles hidden under his skin . It was then that he noticed how red a rip in her dress was, dried brown from blood, at her torso.

"My God, Shilo are you alright?" He said pointing at the gash.

"That?" She looked down at her own wound, "I'm just fine," She spread the fabric, showing off a healing wound. It was long and putrefied, dried blood caking the skin around it. It was a stab wound.

"Are you sure? Gaius-"

"I'm fine your Highness, really," She gathered her things and disappeared inside the house. Uthur followed her inside, there was practically nothing. What few things had been salvaged had been placed on a charred table, the roof had holes large enough that he could easily fit through any of them.

"When were you attacked?"

"I'm not really sure, I've lost track of time you see,"

"It's mid-april," he informed her, "The fifteenth."

"Oh my, that means…" She trailed off, lost in thought. It couldn't really be April already, could it? Had it really been that long?

"It means?" Uthur wanted her to finish the sentence; he hated being left in the dark.

"Nothing, nothing important,"

"Tell me," He demanded, straightened his posture and taking on his more regal form.

She took in a deep breath, "My birthday is in two weeks. See? Nothing important,"

How could she not think her own birthday was important? Everyone's birthday was important, no matter whom they were. It showed that they'd graced the earth for another three hundred and sixty five days. "How old will you be?"

"Eighteen," She replied, leaning against a pillar that had once held up the roofing, it looked as though it might collapse even under her weight. Uthur seemed to ponder on this, in Camelot having their Eighteenth birthday was a rather big deal for a young lady, it meant she was becoming a woman. "It's been just over a month…since the attack."

"You've been on your own for a month?" They both turned around to see Merlin standing in the door. "W-why didn't you come to Camelot, or find someone to stay with?" He asked walking up to her.

"Please don't make a fuss, I can take care of myself Merlin," She hit his cheek, too softly to be a slap, but too hard to be a pat. She walked past him, moving outside while subconsciously keeping her arm over the wound.

[Wowza that was bad, but now you can all hopefully see how painstakingly obvious what that relationship will be like. But no worries, the plot must thicken!

Review please.]