Hey this is another long chapter, so get comfy! Break from all the gore though, so I think you'll enjoy the reprieve!

Song: Stormy by Hedley

I hope you like it!

"Why is it that whenever I wake up, you're always hovering above me?"

Doc laughed as he looked down at the warlock. "So he lives. How are you feeling?"

Merlin turned his muddled focus back on his back, but he couldn't feel anything. In fact, he couldn't even feel his toes, let alone move any part of his being. "I actually can't feel anything..."

"Good, that's the way it's supposed to be. The druids have you drugged so that you can't feel the pain."

"More like drugged me so I can't feel my nether regions—wait, did you say druids?"

Chuckling, Doc leaned back in the chair next to Merlin's bed where the warlock lay on his stomach, bandaged from neck to waist. "You've been asleep for three days. All the magic you used drained what little energy you had left. In that time, some of the slaves who had once been druids led us to their camp, and here we've been resting and receiving treatment."

Merlin gaped at him. "Three days!"

"You were out like a rat hit with a frying pan."

"Thank you for that lovely description. Now when can I move again?"

"I can call in the druids now so that they can give you a remedy to reverse the numbing effects…but I have to warn you, Merlin, you're not going to like how you're feeling."

"Anything's better than feeling like a rat hit with a frying pan."

"Don't mock me."

However, despite Merlin's firm belief that he couldn't feel worse than he did waking up in that bed, it didn't take a minute without the numbing tonic for Merlin to wish for it back. But he bit his lip and swallowed the pain, for aching all over allowed his thoughts to sharpen and his mind to clear enough to look at his surroundings and make sense of them. He lay in a tent, cushioned with pillows and covered with blankets, all the warlock could really make out were the thin rays of sunlight that peeked in from the opening. Soon after he was rid of the numbness, Merlin fell asleep again, and when he woke next he found himself alone.

The pain had lessened enough for him to get up, and so he did, slowly clambering his way out the door, leaning heavily on a staff he had found at his bedside. Brushing away the coarse fabric of his new dwelling, Merlin soon found himself out in the sunlight. He allowed himself a minute to enjoy the sun's warm rays, lifting his head and breathing the fresh air that he had so missed in his stay in the caverns below the earth. Around him the druid camp was alive and bustling, littered with colors and peoples of all sorts. It was easy to recognize the miners—they all looked sickly and pale, but there was a joy and a life in their faces that had long been missing in their days of enslavement. Here he could hear laughter and loud conversations, filled with richly detailed stories of both terrible and wonderful adventures, and with those stories the miners paid back the druids for their kindness—even though the peaceful people needed no incentive to treat the needy.

In other words, it was paradise for a young warlock who had missed just this, the company of people laughing as though they were all destined to live in mirth for the rest of their days. Even though it couldn't be true, Merlin allowed the moment to fill him up, allowed himself to forget the ominous words spoken by the dragon only mere days ago.

"Merlin!" The young man turned to find himself enveloped in a warm embrace, Bofur's thick arms wrapped tightly around the warlock. At his wince, however, his companion pulled away with a quick apology, but the smile never left his face.

"We thought you were going to die! Gave us a right scare, boy."

"Sorry about that, I'll do my best not to repeat it," Merlin replied with a grin.

"Well don't make a promise on it; you have a knack for getting into trouble."

"I don't find trouble, it finds me."

"Be that as it may, we might as well enjoy the time when you are apart from it. Hungry?"

"Starving."

"Then let's go have some supper." With that, Bofur wrapped an arm around the boy's thin shoulders and chatted with him fondly as they made their way to one of the many fires. There they met Aeneas and Doc, and the small family, bonded not by blood but by companionship, settled down and exchanged tales as they ate the best meal they had had in a very long time.

Merlin couldn't have been happier.

But even as he laughed alongside the others, Merlin couldn't shake the words of the dragon from his mind. That night, after the others had retired, the warlock left his tent after a short fitful sleep plagued with nightmares—they seemed now to be the only dreams the boy was capable of having. Relying heavily on his cane to walk, Merlin made his way through the silent camp to the boundary, nodding to the guards as he took a seat in the dark, hoping that the silence could drown out his loud thoughts.

"You should rest. Your wounds won't heal if you don't."

Merlin turned around, startled, his eyes meeting those of a tall gray-haired druid clad in a long orange robe. The man smiled at the warlock and took a seat next to him on a log nearby, continuing in a comfortingly warm voice. "What troubles you?"

"When the dragon spoke to me, he said that I wasn't destined to die by his hand—that there was a prophesy in which I had to make a choice that would destroy or save the kingdoms, and he called me by a strange name-Emrys. I can't make head or tail of it…I just don't understand what it all means," Merlin confided, surprised as he said the words aloud to an utter stranger.

"I can help you a little with that, Merlin. Emrys is the name by which we druids call you, and the name you are known by to creatures of the Old Religion."

"But why should I even have a name? What makes me so special—"

"You should know by now that you are no ordinary sorcerer, Emrys. You are a creature that hasn't been seen in a very long time, a warlock, a question that has never been posed. You are more akin to a dragon than you are to a human, for you both have been forged by the power of the Old Religion. As a warlock, you are a being of magic, and a powerful magic, too. There was a prophesy written in the days before days, it foretold a terrible time where magic was persecuted and driven from the land—"

"The Great Purge…" Merlin murmured.

"Yes. The prophesy said that when the magic of the world was most threatened, a man would be born with great power, and he would be the most powerful sorcerer to ever live. He, with the aid of the once and future King, would unite the lands of Albion, a time of prosperity and magic whose like will never be seen again. That man, Emrys, is you. And the King is none other than Arthur Pendragon."

"The son of Uther Pendragon? The son of a man whose father led to the persecution of magic in the first place?"

"Indeed."

"You must be joking."

"I'm afraid I'm not."

"Me? The most powerful sorcerer to ever live? No. Whatever you want, whomever you've been waiting for, you've got the wrong person."

"None of us choose our destinies, Emrys, and none of us can escape it."

"Say if you're right, then what was the dragon talking about when he mentioned the blood moon eclipsing?"

"That part of the prophesy has always been unclear. It is said that when the time of Albion is soon upon us, you will have to make a decision, and that decision will shape the fate of the seven kingdoms.

Merlin let out a startled laugh, looking wide-eyed at the druid across from him, astonishment lining his pale features. "And when am I supposed to make this decision?"

"In three years."

"Three years! And nobody bothered to tell me until now?!"

"It was said that you should be trained and protected, so that when the time comes for the eclipse, you will be well guided in your decision—"

"What is this choice? What choice do I have to make?"

"Nobody knows."

"Well that's bloody helpful," Merlin snapped, but he quickly calmed down and sighed, breathing out heavily. "I'm sorry, it's just a lot to take in."

"Of course, Emrys, it is a terrible burden, and I am sorry that it was I who had to tell you of it. Now, go rest, you've been through quite the ordeal."

Merlin nodded. "Thank you."

"It was my pleasure. Never forget, Emrys, you are not alone." The man gave the warlock a quick bow before rising, disappearing into the misty wood before Merlin had a chance to reply. The young man sighed again and looked up, the canopy just thin enough so that he could see the stars.

That night when he slept, he dreamed of dragons and burning castles, and at the very edge of his mind, a lady in emerald silk, pale face pulled into a mysterious smile.

Merlin spent a week in the druids camp, their magic and herbs slowly healing his torn back, and soon the pain had lessened enough for him to move freely and ride, if not with a little discomfort. However, the blissful calm of the druid camp only gave Merlin more time to think of home, and his heart ached for Glendale with each coming day. His mind was increasingly filled with thoughts of Gaius, of Gwen, of Edwin and Phillip, and he soon could think of nothing else but how they must be faring. Surely by now they thought him dead, and the idea sent shivers up his spine. He confided his musings with Doc, and the old man wrapped him in an embrace, helping the warlock ready himself for the long journey home.

When the time finally came for Merlin to leave, the birds were singing in the sunlit branches of the trees, and the warlock was given a steed the color of smoke—a steed laden with plenty of supplies for his long journey home. Doc, Aeneas, and Bofur waited next to the horse, tightening the buckles and checking for the billionth time that the young man would have everything he needed to get home safely. They even supplied him with a beautiful sword, hand crafted by the druids, its blade etched with runes written in the old tongue. They told him it had been made in the days before the Purge, forged in dragon's breath. In the druid's tongue, it was named Excalibur.

"My people will travel with you as far as the main road, but from there we cannot go further. Our people are viewed with suspicion in all the kingdoms, so you will be safer without us," the druid leader had informed him, giving him a quick blessing before Merlin was to set off.

Finally, after what Merlin thought were far too many unnecessary preparations, it was time to say goodbye.

"Take care of yourself, boy. Avoid trouble as best you can," Bofur said, squeezing the warlock with his great arms, but despite the fact that his back burned from the pressure, Merlin returned it with an equal amount of strength.

Next, Doc gave him a small bunch of herbs wrapped in white cloth. "These will help with the pain. Be light handed with them though; you don't know how much you'll need in the days to come."

"Thank you, Doc."

"No, thank you, Merlin. I'd be dead if it weren't for you, and nothing I could possibly do can repay that debt."

"You've already paid it in double, my friend." The warlock pulled the old man into a hug, surprised to find his eyes glazing over.

Aeneas was last, and he stood at the edge, running his hands through his long dark hair. "I'm going to miss you, laddie. I'll be staying with the druids. If ever you need me, you'll find me with them."

"Of course."

The two looked at each other awkwardly, and as Merlin leaned in to embrace him, Aeneas brushed him away. "I'm certain we'll meet again, Merlin, so there is no need to say goodbye."

They clasped forearms and Merlin smiled, mounted his horse, giving his friends a final farewell before leaving them behind- three druids leading him through the woods and towards home.

The group traveled for four days and four nights, and on the morning of the fifth day, the druids bade him farewell, pointing him the direction home. He thanked them and was soon on his way, the pain in his back forgotten as the prospect of sleeping in a warm bed urged him on. As the miles vanished, the towns grew into cities and the number of people rose. While Merlin wore a high-necked shirt baggy enough to disguise his heavily bandaged torso and gloves to protect his blistered hands, the fading bruises on his face stood out on his pale skin. More than once he was given a curious stare, but he wasn't stopped.

It was three days until Merlin saw Castle Leodogrance on the horizon, and despite the fact that he was near people, the warlock laughed aloud—ignorant of the fact that those walking nearby thought him mad. But the musings of farmers didn't quell Merlin's excitement, and he pushed his horse forward towards home.

Nodding to the guards posted at the gate, Merlin rode through the familiar doors of the capitol of Glendale. He passed familiar buildings and streets, even recognizing a person or two. He ran into no one, though, when he entered the stable and secured his horse to a stall, brushing it down and giving it a bright red apple as a thank you. Butterflies buzzed in his stomach as he climbed the worn staircase to the physician's quarters, and he stopped for a moment before opening the familiar old wooden door.

Upon entering, Merlin was greeted with a familiar sight. Gaius stood brewing a potion, back hunched over one of the many counters, and the warlock allowed himself a moment to watch his guardian before he interrupted the man's work.

"Need help with that?"

Gaius looked up in surprise, his wrinkled face widening in astonishment at the sight of the warlock.

"Merlin!"

"How are you doing, Gaius?"

"All the better on seeing you!" The old man walked quickly over to the young man, embracing him tightly, and Merlin ignored the pain, allowing the physician's familiar arms to welcome him home. Gaius looked up at him in shock, hands brushing over Merlin's bruised face. "What happened to you? You've been gone for over a month."

Wow, I must have been in The Mine longer than I had previously thought. "Let's just say I took a detour."

"Sit, sit." Gaius pulled him over to the dining table, running over to a pot on the fire. "I was just making supper. Would you like some?"

"Of course, thank you, Gaius."

His guardian turned back to look at him, searching the warlock's face with his piercing gaze. "You are most welcome, my boy." Gaius filled two bowls with some broth and trotted over to where Merlin sat, sliding into the chair opposite him. "You must tell me everything."

The sun had long since set when Merlin began the end of his tale, and the two bowls of soup sat cold and untouched before them. Just as the warlock began to tell the story of the escape from The Mine, the physician's door burst open.

"Gaius! I heard a rumor that Merlin was—" Gwenivere froze at the sight of her friend seated at the other side of the room. His face split into a wide smile.

"Hello, Gwen."

Merlin had just enough time to get up when Gwen rushed into his arms, her hands holding him close. Burying his face in her warm neck, he allowed her scent to overwhelm him-the scent of flowers and vanilla that he had so missed. She pulled away, looking at him for a moment before doing the unexpected thing—Gwen kissed him. Mind you, only for a second, but it was just long enough for him to feel the impossible softness of her lips. The pair looked at the each other in surprise, and blushes spread on the both of them.

"Sorry…I just…I thought…I mean we thought you were..umm…dead."

"It's alright," Merlin replied, still in shock. Gwen recovered quicker and pulled him closer. "Come on, you must tell me everything. Why were you gone for so long—"

"Princess, while I understand your curiosity, Merlin's had a long day of traveling and should get to bed—he has quite a bit of explaining to do tomorrow."

Merlin gave them both a sheepish smile. "Of course."

Gwen returned it and hugged him again, squeezing him tightly, whispering in his ear. "I've missed you, magical farmboy."

"And I you, Princess."

She let him go reluctantly, turning to walk out the door with a quick goodnight and a final glance. Merlin stood starstruck in the center of the room, having forgotten how to form coherent words.

"Merlin."

"Yes, Gaius?"

"Close your mouth, you don't want anything flying in."

"Okay."

"Merlin?"

"Yes, Gaius?"

"Go to bed."

Merlin nodded and turned to walk the stairs up to his room, pausing at Gaius's voice.

"And Merlin?"

"Yes, Gaius?"

"It's good to have you back."

The soft rays of sunlight woke Merlin the following morning. He turned in bed, enjoying the smell of the blankets. They smelled of herbs and home. He stretched, yawning widely and running his hand through his midnight black hair. Pain greeted him, as it did every morning, and he reached over to his bedside and drank some of the tonic Gaius had prepared him yesterday using the herbs Doc had given him. He slowly made his way out of bed, changing into a red tunic and brown trousers, wrapping a blue scarf round his neck to hide his bruises before walking downstairs.

"Good morning."

Gaius turned from where he was making breakfast, giving the warlock a warm smile. "Good morning to you, too. You're up early, I'd suspected that you'd sleep more."

"Sleeping hasn't been my forte as of late."

"Why?"

"It's nothing." Merlin made his way to the dining table and began feasting on some fresh blueberries that sat there. Gaius followed him with two sandwiches, and the two settled to eat. However, the physician's mind was still on Merlin's lack of sleep.

"You have bags under your eyes," he remarked, looking at his ward's tired face with concern.

"Don't worry yourself—"

"I've been worrying about you since the moment you left that door. Gwen wasn't overreacting last night when she said we'd thought you dead. We never suspected you'd run into trouble on the way there."

"I'm sorry," Merlin replied softly. "I never meant for you to fear for me."

"We're your friends, Merlin, it comes in the job description. Now why can't you sleep?"

"Nightmares."

"Nightmares? Just that?"

"Yes…but no." Merlin ran his hand through his hair again, Gaius smiling to himself as the boy tustled up his hair further. "I don't think they are normal nightmares. See, I keep having the same dreams. I mean, they aren't the same dreams, but they're all similar. I keep seeing burning castles, and dragons, and scarlet cloaks, and a girl…a girl with black hair and green eyes." Merlin sighed. "This girl, I've never met her, I've never seen her before. But whenever she appears in my dreams, I keep getting these feelings that I don't understand."

"Like what?"

"Sadness, anger, disappointment, betrayal…love."

"Does this girl have a name?"

"No." Merlin sighed in frustration. "I see her, but I can't really describe her face. What does it mean, Gaius?"

"You are a powerful sorcerer Merlin. It shouldn't be surprising that you see visions like this. These might as well be dreams of the future."

Merlin was quiet for a moment before shaking his head in denial. "No, no. That's not right, that isn't the future, because if that's the future—then let's just say it sucks."

"There is no right or wrong here, only what is and what isn't."

"Yes, and that is not the future."

Gaius shook his head at the warlock fondly. "You should probably go see your professors. They'll be eager to hear about your adventures."

"More like eager to know why I got my ass kicked on my first trip."

Laughing, the old physician got up and helped the warlock to his feet. "Off you go. You're already a month and a half late for class."

His ward sighed again before opening the door, only to find Gwen about to do the same thing. The Princess hugged him quickly, and Merlin laughed. "Should I expect such affection every day?"

"Only for today because it's your first back. I figured we might go to class together? Knowing your memory, I'm guessing you've already forgotten the way to the library."

Even if that had been the case, Merlin was more than grateful for Gwen's companionship as he made his way down the endless corridors. When at last they reached their destination, the Princess bade him luck and went to sit with her tutors, leaving Merlin to climb up the familiar iron staircase to his training room alone.

He found his professors talking amongst themselves when he knocked the door before entering. When they looked up and saw him, their faces split into wide smiles—well, Phillip and Edwin's did. Surevres just scowled.

"Merlin!" Edwin rushed over and embraced him before pulling back, hand on the warlock's shoulder. "What happened to you? We thought we'd lost you."

"Yes, Edwin was out of his mind, he wanted to send search parties after you," Phillip said fondly.

"I ran into some trouble on the way there, but it's all behind me now."

"Did you meet with the dragon?"

"Yes—but not the way I planned."

Edwin arched an eyebrow before conjuring some chairs. "Start from the beginning."

"And so after I spoke to the dragon, I guess I passed out, because the next thing I remember I was lying down in a druid's tent in their camp. There I met a druid who helped clarify things, and after a week of mending I was on my way back here." Merlin finished, searching his professors for their reactions to his tale. Except for murmers of shock when he spoke of The Mine, they had sat poker-faced through the whole tale, and by now Merlin was on edge—wondering what they must think of him.

"That's quite a story…" Surevres said. "But is any of it true?"

"Sorry?"

"Well, forgive me if I find it hard to believe that there are bounty hunters who happen across sorcerers, capture them, and then use them to mine jewels for a dragon."

"What do you want me to tell you?" Merlin replied, dumbfounded. "And if that isn't the truth, then what do you think I was doing this whole time?"

"Perhaps you ran across some sorcerer whose been teaching you…your power feels rather amplified now that you've returned."

"I'm telling the truth!"

"Then prove it!" Sureveres snapped.

"This is ridiculous," Edwin said. "Merlin, you don't have to—"

"No," the warlock replied, eyes still on the dark-haired professor. "If he wants proof, then, he can have it." Merlin pulled off his shirt, and the professors' eyes widened at the bandages—the warlock had left out the whipping part because he didn't think it important to worry them over it. But at Sureveres's ill-placed accusations, he was prepared to show them what he had really been through. He began to unwrap the bandages, and when they lay on the floor, the inner most blood stained, Merlin turned around and let them see the wounds.

There were unanimous gasps from behind him, and the warlock couldn't help but feel satisfied at Sureveres's wide-eyed stare.

"Is that proof enough?" he asked quietly.

"Yes…Yes of course," the professor answered.

Merlin quickly wrapped himself up again, tying the bandage tightly before shrugging his shirt back on.

"Now what other part of the story do you want me to prove?"

"Merlin, we didn't mean that—"

"Really? Because I'm sorry if I think it should be you doing the explaining. I've been away, trapped in a hellish mine, watching people being beaten to death, and all the while that I've been gone, you've been doubting my loyalty?"

"Merlin—"

"No, just listen for once in your lives," he snapped. "You've known all along, haven't you? You've known all along what my fate was, who I was, and why I'm like this. And instead of explaining it from the moment I walked into this bloody room, you waited a year and then sent me to go have a dragon tell me that I'm either going to destroy or save the kingdoms?"

"We didn't want you to feel pressure—"

"Well that didn't work, did it? You lied to me, all this time," he said, trying to disguise the hurt in his voice as anger. "All those times I asked you why I was like this, why I was born as a freak, a monster, you've told me you didn't know. And so here I am, three years before making this huge decision, and you still can't trust me?"

"It's not that we don't trust you—"

"THEN WHAT IS IT?!" The warlock shouted, getting up. "You sit there, questioning the truth in my story, and you know what? I know why. It's because you've been so careful in trying to ensure that when I make that decision, that it's because you molded me in such a way so that I can make the decision you want. You're afraid that I'll go bad," he added laughing bitterly. "You're afraid of me. If you feared me so much, then why didn't you kill me on that very first day? Why didn't you save yourself the trouble?"

"…Because we wanted to give you a chance. Because we didn't want to judge you over something, because you're not—" Edwin spoke.

"- My destiny? I'm not my destiny? Really? Because where I'm standing, it looks like that's all I am. Just some kid with this destiny to either go good or bad, and despite the fact when the moon eclipses, it'll be ME making the choice. Everyone knows about it except me."

"Merlin—"

"No, just don't, Edwin. I'm sick and tired of all these lies—"

Surevres interrupted him harshly. "Well, boy, I'm sorry if we hurt your feelings, but we did what we did to protect you, so that you could live happily ever after for as long as you could. But being the spoiled brat that you are, you clearly cannot thank us for our consideration, so if you're so angry, you can just run along and go write about how you've been mistreated in your little diary—"

"And you. What's your problem with me anyways?" Merlin interrupted Surevres. "Ever since I got here, you've given me nothing but crap. But you know what? I think now I finally know why. I'll bet that the day I arrived, you warned them about me. I'll bet you were demanding they kill me. Because you can't trust me. You'd think that after a year of seeing me almost every day that you'd know better than to think I'd turn my back on everything you've done for me for some well placed offer by some shady sorcerer I met on the road. That's not who I am. That's not who you taught me to be. All along you've been preaching how I have to use my power for good, but from the beginning, you knew there was a chance that I'd turn dark."

"You can't blame him, Merlin, " Phillip said quietly. "Few who wield the power you were born with aren't tempted by the blacker aspects of the Old Religion."

"And that's why you kept me hidden in the castle all this time. It's because you were afraid I'd run into a situation where my loyalties were tested, but you're in luck, because they haven't been. Despite the fact that you lied to me and don't trust me, my loyalty lies with you. But from now on, I don't need you as my teachers, because when my destiny comes knocking, it's going be me making the decision and not you. I don't need you breathing down my neck to ensure I choose what you want. Now, I've been traveling all week and I'm tired, so I'm going to ask to be excused." Merlin gave them a quick nod of the head before walking out, still fuming.

Behind him, Edwin and Phillip turned on Sureveres. "You really did it this time, didn't you?" Edwin snapped.

"I asked what we were all thinking, and what we all were saying when he was late. It's the reason we didn't let him go on any trips before this, you cannot blame me for posing the question—"

"-And in turn question his loyalty? The last thing Merlin needs now is to think that the odds are against his favor. We should be supporting him in his decision, not calling to attention the fact that he may be destined to destroy the kingdoms."

"Edwin is right, Sureveres. God knows the boy has been through an ordeal, and we can't go questioning his integrity the day he gets back. His trust in us is fundamental if we are to use him for the good of the kingdoms, and after this, I'm afraid he'll never trust us again."

"What does it matter?" the dark-haired sorcerer replied bitterly. "Whether he trusts us or not is not of consequence. In the end we need him to do what we want him to do; he has little choice in the matter. You know that, both of you. You play the card that you care about him, that he means something to you, but in the end, when it comes to it, you'll need him to serve you in whatever way—if he likes it or not."

"Surevres—"

"No. I don't trust him, I don't like him, but I do respect him enough not to pretend that he has any choice in this. Now if you want to continue sugar-coating the matter, feel free to do so, but count me out." With that, the sorcerer left, black cloak trailing behind him.

"Now what?" Phillip turned to Edwin, face grim.

"What we always do, wait and hope for the best. We can go to him tomorrow, but let him cool down today."

"Which one? Merlin or Surevres?"

"Both, I'm afraid, both."

"Can you believe it? After a year of working my ass off for them, they still don't trust me. They watch me like I'm going to start shooting fireballs from my eyes." Merlin fumed, pacing back and forth.

Gwen looked at him with large brown eyes and gave him a sympathetic smile. "Well, you kind of might, Merlin. No one knows what the decision will be when the time comes, but until then, they have to guide you as best as they can. They are just acting in the interest of the kingdom."

"I get that." The warlock sighed, sitting down heavily across from her. "But what I don't understand is why they didn't tell me about this earlier. I had a right to know. The prophesy is about me after all."

"I don't pretend to know anything about this, but tell me, had they told you about this the very first day you arrived, would anything be different?"

"Yes…No….I don't know. I would have been—"

"-Better prepared? I doubt so. This past year you've been complaining about how hard they work you, and you didn't need the weight of an impending choice to weigh you down as you were training."

"But that weight is still there, it's always been there, even if I didn't know it was. I'm still going to have to make that choice, but now—"

"-You have only three years to prepare for it? I think that's enough. But you mustn't let that bother you. At least now you know that there is a purpose for your gifts, that's what you were searching for all along, wasn't it?"

"I guess so." He leaned back and Gwen smiled at him.

"Try not to dwell on it. You have three years. The date isn't moving, but even if they don't have faith in you, I do, and so do many others."

"I don't know what I would do without you."

"Probably shrivel up and die from the pressure. Now, what say you to a ride? Clear your mind."

He turned to her for a second, quiet, before letting a smile light his face. "Beat you to the stables."

"Doubtful."

The two laughed and raced towards the barn, where saddling their horses, they rode out of the city gates and into the wide open fields of Glendale—and Merlin forgot about the prophesy for the first time since he had arrived.

"The letter has arrived from Camelot, my lord."

"Tell me, has Uther agreed?"

"Yes, my Lord, he says his delegation should arrive in two weeks."

"Good, that should give us enough time to prepare and draft a peace plan. We've been at odds for too long."

"Of course, my Lord."

"Call in the court, everyone."

"Right away, my Lord."

"Thank you, Martin."

The King of Glendale watched his servant as he left the room, and sighed, putting his head in his hands. This had better work or we'll be facing war.

Merlin and Gaius were one of the last to enter the room, and when the King was confident that everyone was present, he stood up and addressed the many persons in the room.

"You all know that we've been at odds with Camelot for many years. These past months, tensions have risen to new highs. Uther knows of my plans to return to the old ways, and being the man he is, the King of Camelot isn't all too pleased. In order to see eye to eye and keep from war, he and I have decided to come together to draft a treaty. I know not what he'll demand, nor what he wants, however, as a sign of good intent, I've invited him to stay here as we write up an agreement. He's responded and told me that his delegation will be arriving in two weeks time." Merlin stiffened, and Gaius looked at him quickly before turning his attention back to the King.

"Do not, however, take this as a sign of weakness. When he arrives here, we will hold feasts and dances like any welcoming host, but I need not remind you that this is Uther Pendragon we are dealing with. I'll need you all to be your sharpest, he mustn't take this as an advantage to use us. I cannot emphasize enough how much rests on this visit. If we are unsuccessful in writing a treaty, then war will surely break out—and we are not ready for that. Camelot's forces are powerful, and we still cannot match them with man power. Do I have your support in this matter?"

The members of the court nodded and as the King dismissed them. He called for the physician to stay behind, and Merlin shot him a look before following the others out. After the last noble had left the room, King Leodogrance nodded for the guards to leave and close the door behind them.

"My Lord?" Gaius asked questioningly.

"Am I doing the right thing?"

"I'm sorry, my Lord. I don't quite understand…"

"I'm inviting our sworn enemy to the castle, and expecting him to play by the rules."

"It's the only way to make peace, my lord."

"I know that, but that's why I needed to speak to you. Your boy, Merlin, how is he?"

"He arrived from a trip only a week ago," Gaius replied. "But what does Merlin have to do with this?"

"Everything. He's our only chance of bringing magic back. We lose him, and we have nothing. He is the key to limiting Uther's power, and Camelot knows it. You must promise me, Gaius, that you'll keep him safe."

"Of course, my lord."

"And Gaius?"

"Yes?"

"You know that should war break out, he is our greatest weapon."

"He's just a boy—"

"No. He's the most powerful sorcerer to ever live, the one thing that Uther fears more than everything. If anything, he is the reason Camelot hasn't declared war on us yet. Ensure that his loyalties are with us, and ensure that he's prepared to fight for Glendale."

"I hope it doesn't go so far."

"As do I, but we must be prepared for the worse."

"Is that all, my Lord?"

"Yes, Gaius, thank you."

Over at the other side of the castle, Gaius was receiving the same treatment from his young ward.

"Uther despises magic, He's going to kill me."

"Don't be a fool, Merlin. You have the protection of the King. To hurt you would be declaring war on Glendale."

"As if Uther really cares about war. He's made it quite clear that his mission in life is to destroy everything that has to do with the Old Religion, and I'm the biggest example in that category."

"That is true, but you had to know that you'd eventually have to face Camelot. Their hatred of magic is another reason for you to practice even more. You're our weapon against Uther, the one thing he fears. If you can show the people that magic can be used as a force for good, then the old ways may return, and magic can be accepted again. This will not only undermine Camelot's influence, but it'll put Uther's reign of terror at question."

"…Which is why he's going to kill me."

"Yes…wait, no! Uther is not going to like you, but inside these walls, you are safe. Under the protection of the King, Uther cannot touch you."

Merlin sighed softly. "Two weeks?"

"Two weeks."

And what a two weeks they were. The whole castle—no, the whole CITY—was in a mad flurry of action. Here and there were some servants sweeping the halls, there were grooms cleaning the stables, and in the court rooms the politicians practiced their poker faces.

Things were no different for Merlin. His tasks were not only time consuming, but tiring, so by the end of each long day, the warlock lay in bed, back sore and aching, ready for Camelot's delegation to finally arrive. But still his stomach housed butterflies, for with each coming day neared the arrival of a group who was sure to scorn and hate him for the way he was born. Attempting to stay positive, Merlin gushed with Gwen about the coming days, complained at all the right moments about how rude those from Camelot would surely be, and admired the many new gowns she was receiving—the Princess had to look perfect. Merlin didn't envy her, and jokingly made this clear to her, receiving a few of her signature glares.

But whether Merlin was ready or not for the Camelot delegation to arrive, it did, punctual, arriving when expected. And so two weeks from the day he received the news, the raven-haired warlock stood on the steps of the castle with the other members of the gifted court, Gaius by his side. It was past the afternoon, so the light was dimming in the sky. Shadows stretched down the courtyard, and a soft breeze rustled their clothes. When Camelot arrived, it was the display those from Glendale expected.

They came on the backs of well-groomed horses, their red capes sweeping behind them. Their banners waved in the breeze, the golden dragon embroidered proudly on the scarlet fabric. The knights wore chainmail and helmets that shined in the sun, and at their head rode none other than Uther Pendragon himself.

Rounder than expected, the King of Camelot had a bright red nose but severe expression, his graying hair the color of steel. At his side rode who must only be his son, Arthur Pendragon.

The man destined to bring forth Albion with me, thought the warlock meekly upon seeing the proud, golden-haired youth riding at his father's side. But Merlin's attention soon turned to the King's other side, where rode Uther Pendragon's ward. She was just as beautiful as rumors had conveyed: long black hair braided down her back, face as smooth and pale as porcelain, eyes the color of her emerald green gown, and lips the most sinful red. But she was another thing, a thing that meant a lot to the warlock who stood watching her from his position on the stairs to a castle.

She was the lady from his nightmares.

YES I KNOW, FINALLY THE LEADING LADY SHOWS UP! But trust me, there was method to my madness-the whole Mine plot-line will be big later on in the story, hopefully the pieces fall together for you eventually. So no OCs for a long time, I don't think till the end of the story! Our leading quartet will be front and center, and there will be looooaaaadddssss more Mergana (that is why you're reading this after all).

Thank you to those of you who are reviewing, they keep me alive, and thank you very much to the people who are reading! I really am hoping you're enjoying it! If you have critics or praises, write in the pretty white box and press the magical blue button (you know you want to).

-ladywarlock