A/N A little longer, but still short

Word spread through Camelot that bandits were in the hills, attacking villages, raping and pillaging. Arthur had commanded a hunting party to mount up and prepare to defend the villagers. Merlin stood beside Abastor, stroking the steed's neck. He would lend a hand or rather sword in the battles to come as he had always done before. And like she had always done before Moira mounted a horse, though it wasn't her beloved mare since the horse had become pregnant she had been sent to the fields to relax. Merlin straightened as Moira trotted over his eyes sharp. "What are you doing?"

"Helping," the Irishwoman replied. Her future husband scowled. "Oh stop Merlin, ye can't stop me from my duty."

"You are with child," he hissed softly. Her eyes narrowed, glowering. "Don't give me that look Moira, it's my child."

"And mine," she shot back. "And as such I have a say. I can still fight."

"As you wish," the sorcerer turned away and mounted. He couldn't stop her even if he tried to. He could only hope that she would think of the baby before anything else. They rode side by side following the other men to the outskirts of the first village. "Looks empty," Gawain stated, hand resting on his sword.

"Tis quiet," Balin added in. "A wee bit too quiet, if ye get my meanin'." Moira grunted in agreement.

"Carry on," Leontes stated. "We'll move to the next village." Even as he ended his sentence a rain of arrows began to fall upon the group.

"Find cover!" Moira shouted, wheeled her mount toward the ruined stables. She cried out as an arrow took her from the saddle, landing in her arm. Balin hooked a hand under her arm and hauled her to safety. "Fuck!" She muttered, staring at the arrow. "Balin…"

"Give me a minute," her brother snapped as he grabbed hold of the arrow. "Take a breath." On her inhale he yanked and the arrow came free with a flood of blood. "Christ." He tore a strip of cloth from a burlap sack and tied it quickly and efficiently around the wound. "Stay put."

"Not a chance." She tossed her hair back over her shoulder, scowling. "We're in this together."

"As always," muttered the man. Together, side by side, they entered into the fray.

Merlin ducked a swinging sword, cursed quietly and brought his own up in defense. His hazel eyes searched for Moira, to get a quick glimpse. He ran through the man in front of him, and swung to fend off another. In the blink of an eye he saw Moira poised with a sword above her head, bounding waves of chesnut hair flowing in the wind, and the next blink he saw the arrow strike her in the belly. "No!" His roar of anger was accompanied by a decapitation. He sprinted, dodged between fighters until he was by her side. She had fallen to her knees, hands cupped around the arrow, gray eyes wide in amazement. The archer, hidden among the trees ducked into the shadows and sent word to Morgan that his task was completed.

"Merlin," Moira whispered, eyes searching his. "I-I can't…" she waved her hands around her stomach. With a soft oath he wrapped his fingers around the arrow. "I can't feel him…."

Merlin glanced up quickly, his eyes went to her belly and with a swift pull, and the arrow came out. They barely acknowledged the retreat of their foe as Merlin searched for the life of their child. "Moira—"

"Tis faint," she murmured. "So faint." Tears streamed down silently as she felt the life they had created slip away. He pulled her into his arms as her tears grew into sobs. There would be no baby.

"It's done," Bridget said softly to Merlin. "She's passed the—" She searched for a word and settled for what it had been. "The baby." She rested a hand on the man's arm. "I'm sorry Merlin."

"Can she…"

"The midwife believes she can still conceive…but don't…"

"I won't." Merlin interjected. Malcolm lingered behind him, waiting for the woman to depart. Bridget sighed gently and shook her head, taking her leave. "I'm sorry Mal."

"Sorry ye didn't tell me she was with child or that you knew and that you let her go into battle?"

"All of it," Merlin sank to the floor, head in hands. "I should've ordered her to stay behind. She should have been here, she and the baby—"

"Merlin," ordered Mal. "Stop. There's nothing you can do."

"They targeted her."

"What?" the McCreedy turned his emerald gaze to the man on the floor.

"Why not kill any of us? Or her? They aimed for the stomach…did you notice that?"

"I thought it odd, but archers aim for whatever they can."

Merlin pondered the Irishman's words and then shrugged. "I suppose you're right." But it didn't stop the nagging feeling in the back of his mind.

She had let him die, Moira lay on her side, arms tucked around her belly. The belly that had had a child in its womb; a womb that had been damaged. A womb that may not be able to bear a child. She didn't move when Merlin entered, she stayed as she was, letting the tears run their course for once. "There'll be others." The man stated softly, laying a hand on the top of her head.

"Bridget says there may not," she whispered, and squeezed her eyes shut. "If I can't provide a child—"

"It doesn't change my love for you, dear heart," Merlin laid down beside her, placing a gentle hand on hers. "I will love you as much as I love you right now, with or without child." He pressed his lips against the side of her neck. "We'll find out who did this Moira, I promise."

"You sense it too?"

"Foul play? Oh yes, dear one, oh yes I do," He gazed out the window, the anger settling deep in his heart for the one he knew had done this.