"Hold up," Gwaine said suddenly. He leant back in his saddle, pulling on the reins gently. His mount swayed to a halt and began to tear at a small patch of grass and weeds, snorting when a fly flew too near to her eye. Gwaine dismounted easily and made his way to a thorny bush, patting his mare's neck briefly as he did.

He crouched down by the small nest of brambles and began to pick his way through, protected only by his weather-hardened leather gloves. One snapped back into his face and trailed a thorn down his cheek; he registered it with a hiss of pain but carried on regardless, digging further and further until he had reached the roots.

The others had likewise halted their rides but only Arthur had dismounted. He had stood by his stallion for a moment, holding the reins in a firm grasp and stroking his muzzle in an effort to calm down the flighty beast.

When Gwaine's elbow began to disappear into the thicket, however, Arthur looped the reins over his stallion's noble head and passed them to Leon, who accepted them with a stern grasp. Arthur ducked under the reins and weaved through the other steeds, careful to keep his cloak tucked close to his person so as to not startle the horses.

"Gwaine?" Arthur asked uncertainly. The knight ignored him and carried on with his meticulous search, uprooting a couple of branches and tossing them behind him. They hit his chestnut mare on the foreleg, who whinnied indignantly, kicked a few times, and then pawed the ground. Normally any one of these things would have attracted Gwaine's attention, but he paid no heed and continued digging. Arthur's mind registered that as a warning sign – of what, he was not exactly sure.

He laid a careful hand on Gwaine's shoulder. The knight shook it off irritably. When Arthur repeated the gesture, the knight spun round and drew his sword. Shocked into action, Arthur did the same and barely blocked the blow that would have sliced through his shoulder.

The two became locked in the deadly dance of a duel. They circled each other, Gwaine like a wolf stalking its prey, Arthur confused and reluctant to injure his knight, stepping almost perfectly in unison. Arthur's sword was raised upwards slightly; if thrust forwards, it would slip straight into his comrade's heart. In a similar fashion, Gwaine's was poised to slit the king's throat.

With every step, some of the fire went out of his eyes. By the time they had completed five full circles, the other knights' eyes wide and held tensely on the moving figures, Gwaine's arm sagged and his sword dropped to the floor, as if it were made of pure lead and was too heavy to bear.

"Arthur…I don't know why I did that. I'm sorry…it was like some demon was grasping a hold on me…"

Unseen, from behind a grainy, solid trunk, Morgana Pendragon lurked. Half of her body was cast in shadows; the other half was tense but her lips were curved up into a triumphant smile.

"It's a maze."

Merlin couldn't see the point of this. He'd managed to snatch a few hours of sleep in between the tortuous cramps of his stomach and now. 'Now' being Morgana dragging him outside of this bloody castle, right at the entrance of a maze.

It looked fairly simple; it was, as most mazes are, constructed of hedges. They were a varying green colour, ranging from a light sickly yellowish lime to a deep mossy hue. They had a strong, earthy smell. It was so potent that even in the shallowest of breaths, Merlin's nose detected the musky scent.

"I know it is." He frowned at his captor. "What's this for?"

Morgana smirked. "It's both physically and mentally exhausting. If you reach the other side within an hour, I'll let you go."

Merlin glanced at her. Her eyes were still gleaming with insanity, but held also a glint of honesty. Should he risk it? What Morgana said was true - in his already debilitated state, the maze would serve only to weaken him. However, if he was quick (and he knew he was intelligent, despite the constant insult of "Idiot!" he received from Arthur), then he could return to Camelot, and possibly be able to shed some more light on the situation of Morgana to Arthur. If he didn't make it out - then it was the same treatment as before, there was no extra penalty for not making it out in under an hour. What do you have to lose?

Merlin set off at a stumbling run.