Chapter 6: Sir Mordred of Camelot

Arthur and Queen Annis looked up in unison as the warning bell rang for the second time that night. Annis beckoned one of her guards closer.

"Find out what that is about."

"Yes Ma'am." The guard left.

The two royals turned back to each other.

"You don't think..." Arthur considered aloud. The doors flew open to reveal an out-of-breath Sir Percival. Both leaders surged to their feet at the sight of the large knight. His arm was smeared with blood and there was a scarlet splatter speckling the side of his face as well. The guard at the door put a hand out to bar his entry.

"What happened?" Arthur demanded.

"Walker! He slaughtered everyone working in the stables! I tried to stop him, but-" Percival paused for a moment and shook himself back into focus, revealing a bloody patch matting the hair over his right ear. "He's taken Merlin."

"Merlin?" Arthur echoed in disbelief. His blankness wasn't so much from a lack of concern for Merlin's safety. He truly was concerned. He just hadn't been expecting this.

Queen Annis marched purposefully out into the corridor, barking orders at the three guards present. "Alert the knights, and get word to the gate. We're sealing the citadel. Walker is to be stopped with any force necessary. I will not allow that man to make a fool of us."

Arthur eyed the gash in his knight's scalp. "You may want to have the Court Physician take a look at that."

"That man snuck up on me. He was too quick! I was on the floor before I knew what was happening, and Merlin..."

"It's not your fault. Walker has escaped the dungeons twice. You had no reason to expect he would come for you," Arthur assured him.

"He didn't." Percival let out a frustrated sigh. "What does he want with Merlin?"

"I don't know, but I intend to find out." Arthur decided.

"With your permission, Sire, I would like to accompany you."

Merlin jerked awake and immediately flinched. His head was pounding and the biting cold of the room was making it so much worse. The wet floor was soaking through Merlin's thin shirt, and he was fairly sure that was frost burning the back of his hand. He figured this was probably a storage space of some kind, judging by the lack of heat or insulation. Water was dripping nearby and the rag tied over his eyes was half-sodden which was really annoying. Somehow this was all Mordred's fault.

A door opened and closed paces away, past his feet. Someone strutted closer to stand over him.

"You awake yet?" his kidnapper inquired.

"You're making a mistake," Merlin warned. As his captor neared, he could smell blood, seal oil, and rotting plant matter. So he knew that a) Walker hadn't changed out of his blood-soaked clothing, probably because he was planning to kill Merlin with his newly polished blade, and b) the merc had abysmally poor personal hygiene.

Walker scoffed and dropped to his haunches to talk. "How d'ya figure tha'? I'm lookin' ta send a message. See, I got a problem wif a crafty lil ragamuffin wot thinks 'e can foil m' best laid plans. I go' a good deal ridin' on dis job, an' I hear you're important to da little bastard."

"Arthur and his knights will be looking for me."

"Dat's da plan," Walker confirmed, patting his prisoner's cheek before standing and crossing over to the far wall. It wasn't far at all. Merlin guessed they were in pretty close quarters.

"You won't make it out of here unless you let me go," he continued.

"Let's agree ta disagree," Walker dismissed, shuffling through objects on a shelf.

Merlin blew out a breath through his nose and worked on gradually loosening the rope around his wrists.

Mordred was awakened by a knock on the door to his chamber. He looked inquisitively up at the gloomy grey ceiling of his humble guest quarters, then gave the door a sideways glance. The knock came again, this time a more persistent pounding. He got up to answer it only to see that one of the men Queen Annis had appointed to guard him was already letting the visitor in anyway.

Mordred had never pulled a shirt on quite so fast in his life. "King Arthur, Sir Percival," he greeted awkwardly, and moved to light a candle or two in order to illuminate the windowless room. At least the lack of light diminished the chances of his clan mark being seen through the thin fabric of his tunic. ("That was close. Even though Caerleon isn't overtly anti-magic as Camelot is, Annis' people are no friends of Druids," he admits. "In my position. It is best they do not have a clue about my heritage.")

"Sorry to disturb you at this late hour," Arthur apologized. "But Walker has evaded the guards again. This time he's taken Merlin hostage."

Mordred blinked, digesting the news. "Merlin?" The Druid couldn't help but wonder if his involvement had somehow caused this, not that he could share the knowledge of their connection with Camelot's King. "How can I help?" I'm being paranoid, he reassured himself, Walker had no way of knowing about that.

"I was hoping that you might have some insight into his motivation," Arthur prompted.

"He is probably trying to draw you out into the open."

"By kidnapping Merlin?" Arthur questioned skeptically.

"He was waiting here for your arrival. You are known to be fond of Merlin. More than a typical King and his manservant."

Arthur was obviously displeased with the idea, but he didn't refute it.

"Walker's master has been preparing to move against you for quite a while, Sire. There was ample time to learn your habits, and relationships. He will probably be keeping Merlin somewhere that he knows you will be able to find him, in hopes that you will come for him," Mordred elaborated.

"I'm not going to leave any of my people behind, regardless of rank," Arthur dismissed, angered by the suggestion.

"With respect, your Majesty, it is not Merlin's rank which is relevant in this case," Mordred clarified. Arthur thought it strange the way Merlin's name sounded from the ragamuffin, as if it were foreign on his tongue.

"He's right," Sir Percival put in. "You're the real target here. No one is saying that we should abandon Merlin, but you don't have to be directly involved in the search effort."

"I will assist you in any way that I can," Mordred preempted Arthur's oncoming argument. "We will get him back."

Arthur eyed him for a moment, running through a few calculations in his head before deciding, "Fine. Percival, I want you to take my place in the active search."

"Yes, Sire," Percival accepted, bowing out of the room.

"Mordred, you'll want to get dressed. You're going to be assisting us in the council chambers until we catch Walker," Arthur informed the captive teen.

"I've been confined to my chambers."

"Not anymore. Queen Annis has placed you under my judgment."

Mordred blinked at him, thrown off by the precarious situation that the Queen had purposefully placed him in so soon after he had confided in her. Arthur gave him a rough pat on the shoulder on his way out of the room.

"Quickly Mordred. We don't have all night."

Merlin waited for a chance to use his magic to escape, but Walker had taken a seat against the wall opposite him and he just couldn't risk being seen. The convict was eating a loaf of stolen bread while he waited for his trap to spring. The man was a loud eater, which only served to make the warlock more impatient. There was a rattling from outside, then a rhythmic thud as someone outside tried to open the door, only to find it blocked. Walker chuckled to himself and strutted over to face them. Merlin listened carefully to make sure that his captor was otherwise occupied and recognized one of the voices talking to Walker: Sir Gwaine.

"Bærne," Merlin whispered, burning through the ropes binding his wrists in a second and pulling the blindfold off. Walker was standing behind the door with his back to Merlin, hidden from the knights. Just as Merlin pushed himself up off the floor Walker raised the small crossbow in his hands and shot through the opening.

"Look out!" Merlin cried. It was too late. He heard a body drop to the cobblestones as Gwaine drew his sword. Walker turned to shoot his escaping hostage but Merlin ducked out of the way of the bolt just in time. Sir Gwaine and the remainder of Annis' three knights accompanying him began to ram the door open. Walker ran past Merlin and to escape out of the back window.

"He's climbing out the back!" Merlin called to his allies, grabbing the mercenary's legs and doing his best to avoid getting kicked in the mouth. He got kicked in the forehead instead and landed hard on his back just as Gwaine and the others charged in.

"Damn!" Sir Gwaine cursed at the legs pulling out of his reach, then yelled to the others "Get round to the back! Cut him off!" He smiled sympathetically down at his friend on the floor. "You all right there, Merlin?"

"I've had better days," Merlin answered honestly, accepting the hand offered to him. A rain of fire suddenly showered down over the doorway, lighting one of Annis' knights on fire and sending everyone else diving for cover. Gwaine and Merlin both huddled together shielding their faces. "What was that?!" he exclaimed, running over to help put out the flaming, thrashing knight in the doorway.

"A trap," Gwaine stated the obvious. "Mordred was right, he wanted us to track you here."

Merlin frowned, wary of the Druid's involvement, but he didn't have time to fret over it. He had a badly burnt man to tend to.

Not even an hour later, a snowstorm had forced most sane people inside despite the clues that were bound to be lost to the elements. Nonetheless, a dark, hooded figure limped over to the blackened doorway and trailed a leather gloved finger over the disintegrating doorframe. She held the dark powder up and watched it blow away in the wind, ignoring the dark locks dancing across her pale face.

Her green eyes looked down and she knelt to pull a chunk off of the crumbling doorframe. The destroyed wood was coming apart in the wind, coated in a drying, sticky substance. Morgana smelled it and turned her face away. "Pine tar." She crumbled the chunk in her fist. The Seer was in no mood for competition, not with her son's life hanging in the balance. She directed a vicious glare towards the castle where her brother waited and disappeared in a wisp of smoky haze, leaving no trace of her presence behind.

Arthur stood as a familiar-if even more disheveled than usual- Apprentice Physician entered the council chambers. Merlin was still wiping soot off of his face and neck with a rag he'd gotten from the local Court Physician and looked somewhat miffed to see Mordred seated beside his king.

"Merlin!" Arthur rounded the table to hold his friend at arm's length and give him a once over.

"We're you worried about me?" Merlin asked with a pleasantly skeptical expression, knowing that Arthur would never admit to it.

"Don't be ridiculous. He could barely hold you for two hours," Arthur quipped. "That breaks your record."

"You make it sound like I'm running off and getting captured all the time." Merlin's gaze drifted as he realized the inexplicable accuracy of the jest. Mordred arched his brows in subtly amused inquiry.

Arthur rested a hand on his servant's shoulder as they joined the others at the council room table. "Honestly Merlin, I don't know how you ever managed to survive on your own."

Merlin slipped into the seat opposite Mordred. "What are you doing here?"

"Assisting King Arthur in his search."

"You've found me," Merlin stated coolly. He just wanted the boy to go away.

"Merlin, not this again." Arthur face-palmed. "Mordred volunteered to help us. If you need some time to recover-"

"No. I want to help." Merlin placed his hands flat on the tabletop and flashed Arthur a lopsided smile. "What are we doing?"

There was a beat of silence before the King and his charge turned back to each other, continuing the discussion they'd been having when he arrived.

"It may be prudent to continue with your plan to leave Caerleon at first light," Mordred suggested.

Arthur huffed, his sneer half hidden as he stared down at the tabletop. His arms were planted on either side of him, gripping the edge of the wooden surface. "You want me to run away."

"There is no shame in leaving, Sire," Mordred offered calmly. "He is the Queen's to convict. More importantly, your departure may draw him out into the open."

Arthur sobered and looked over at the monarch seated at the head of the table on Mordred's right. "Yes. That's not a bad idea..."

"Here you are, Lad," the elder of the three guards assigned to Mordred's detail directed, waving the teen into his guest room.

Mordred nodded once, curtly and strode into the chamber, already unwrapping the kerchief from round his neck. The Guard pulled the door shut and locked him in. Mordred sighed and shrugged off his outer layers before walking over to the crackling fireplace. He stole a cautious glance at the locked door, then extended a palm to the fire.

"Adwæscan," he whispered and the fire snuffed itself out, the kindling going from hot to room temperature with a sharp hiss. Mordred appraised the inside of the chimney with professional detachment, nodded once in approval and went to fetch his gloves off the bedside table. "Thank you, Arthur. I couldn't do it without you," he muttered, pulling on the gloves that said thoughtful ruler had lent him. At least his fingers wouldn't freeze off.

The overcast sky above still presented strips of the orange and lavender of dawn as Merlin and the Camelot knights bustled around, preparing the horses for their journey home. Merlin adjusted the saddle for Arthur's horse and turned to address the sleepy knight passing by behind him.

"Gwaine, any news?"

The blue-cloaked blond at his side paused to glance interestedly at Sir Gwaine, ignoring his servant's neglect.

"Mordred's still missing. The guards told me that his wolf was freed in the night as well," Gwaine informed them. "If you asked me, I'd say our boy made a run for it."

Merlin looked back and forth between the two trained knights.

"I know that you wanted to reward him, but perhaps this is for the best. At least he's free."

The only answer he got was a non-committal shrug, then the blond seemed to grow tired of waiting around and mounted his horse without Merlin's assistance.

"Careful, Sire," Merlin muttered, his hands hovering conscientiously in case the King slipped. "You don't want to pull your stitches," he cautioned tightly.

There was a hooded figure watching them from a roof across the way. He adjusted his cloak so that it couldn't trip him up as he ran across the frosty stone roof and out of sight. The men below continued to talk amongst themselves while they mounted their horses and headed out. Just as the doors closed behind the Camelot procession a dark form fell past the sliver of sunlight still peeking through the gap. The guards were too busy discussing a bet they'd made that evening about the escaped prisoners to pay the anomaly any mind. However, outside the gates Merlin's eyes narrowed as his magic flared minutely in his core, alerting him to another presence. He looked back over his shoulder just as the dark figure vanished from sight behind a large, naked oak. He urged his horse to move a little faster and pulled farther ahead to talk with Sir Percival. The giant knight smiled politely at him.

"Good morning, Merlin."

"Percy."

"I don't know how you can look so awake already. You got even less rest than I did."

Merlin shrugged it off, edging his horse even nearer alongside Percival's. They leaned subtly closer together and he informed the knight in an undertone, "We're being followed."

"You're certain?"

Merlin nodded, rubbing at his eye.

"Right," Sir Percival acknowledged and pulled away from the group to covertly signal to the other knights. The cloaked figure tailing them slipped quietly from tree to tree, watching over them from above. He crept as close as he could without giving away his position. There was no evidence to verify it, but he was certain that he'd been noticed. Something was wrong. Their reaction didn't make sense. Their guard was clearly far from being dropped, but there was no tension. The knights' wariness was well-masked. He moved even closer to the front of the procession, climbing high up in the tree to get a better view, knowing that he was likely to be spotted. That was inconsequential to him; at the moment he was more focused on the fur wrapped king, or rather...

"Of course," he breathed in realization.

Sir Gwaine nudged the archer riding next to him. The younger knight revealed the crossbow hidden under his cloak and shot at their unwelcome shadow. He was already sliding down the trunk. Gwaine kicked his horse into gallop and chased after the man. The fugitive landed in a somersault that became a sprint as soon as his feet met the forest floor. The cloaked figure darted between a split trunk and kicked off of the edge of a rocky outcropping to swing up into a large evergreen and out of view.

The branches of the tree shook for a moment as the man moved around within, then they went still. Gwaine circled around to try and see where he'd gone while Sir Patrick rode up to take his place on the near side. Finally, Gwaine resorted to poking in between the branches with his sword. After the truth became apparent the two knights exchanged a look.

"Where'd he go?" Sir Gwaine questioned. Sir Patrick just looked flummoxed.

Mordred finally leapt to the ground once he was far enough away not to fear capture and yanked his hood down. He was still running back towards the castle to rejoin Bran at the forest's edge. He skidded to a halt in the center of a small clearing. There was an unfriendly presence nearby. Mordred looked around, hoping that he hadn't caught their attention. A dart punctured his neck and he pulled it out, blinking at it as his body began to feel heavy. He stumbled forward a couple of steps, fighting against the spreading numbness as the dart slipped out of his limp fingers. He fell flat on his back to see Walker stroll over and leer down at him. The mercenary stripped him of his cloak and gloves, and patted his cheek in mock camaraderie.

"I've been lookin' forward ta paying ya back for dat mess dat you almos' put me in," he tucked the dart away under his cloak and winked. "Now. I've got a King to murder while you lie here and freeze ta death." He walked off, calling back gleefully, "'Ave an 'orrible time!"

Arthur took another sip from his goblet and looked out his bedroom window. Everything was calm as usual out in the courtyard, the figure that he had seen on the roof when the others left had not made a reappearance as far as he could tell. He liked to think that meant the plan was working. He turned away and replaced his empty goblet on the breakfast tray that Merlin had left on the table. Arthur smiled to himself; some things never changed.

They had agreed that once darkness began to fall, Percival and Merlin would come back for him. Arthur grabbed the bread roll off his plate and dropped into his seat. This was going to be a long, and boring wait.

He read over the trade agreement that Queen Annis had proposed. He paced, read it a couple more times, paced, read, looked out the window, memorized the damn parchment, and decided that he had to go outside before he went absolutely insane.

Mordred lay shivering on the icy ground, staring up at grey skies through the forest's leaves. He had no choice in it. He could feel his limbs gradually freezing. His heartbeat was slowing down. A warm hand cupped his cheek.

"Look what he's done to you," Morgana's voice lamented. "My poor little lamb..."

"I'm sorry. I-" he began to project to her phantom presence.

"Shhh. You're not done," she soothed and he could've sworn that he felt her fingers carding through his hair. "Stille bearn, séo módorlufu sy gehield du. Wé álætee náht áwierdnesse álimpan hine!"

Warmth flowed through Mordred, replacing the hopeless numbness in his limbs with a vital sting. He sucked in a sharp breath as his heart rebuilt its steady rhythm.

"What was that?!" he gasped, then shook himself fully awake and stumbled upright.

Arthur pulled on a thick, woolen cloak, making sure that his face was hidden by the voluminous hood and crossed the snow-kissed courtyard. The watering troughs at the far side had frozen solid, much to the poor horses' chagrin. Arthur spared them a sympathetic look as he passed by on his way to the lower town. The Guard following him from a polite distance did not seem thrilled with this plan, but Arthur wasn't good at standing idle. He had to do something, so he explored. He did remain alert and ready for a confrontation, not wanting to depend on Annis' guard for his safety. Just as he was getting close to the city gate, a bolt embedded itself in his guard's eye socket. Arthur dodged the next and it hit the stall behind him instead. He searched the rooftops across the street until he spotted the cloaked figure.

"Walker!" Arthur locked eyes with the assassin. The other man sneered and began shooting down random bystanders in a silent ultimatum. Arthur let out an angry snarl and sprinted for the gate. Walker swung down on an anchored cord and joined him outside the city walls. Two more guards ran out to fight him, but the mercenary just shot them.

Arthur drew his sword.

"Ya really think a sword's goin' ta cut it?" Walker mocked.

"You're out of bolts," Arthur responded flatly. Walker checked his bandolier confirming that fact.

"Swords it is." He drew two swords from their scabbard on his back, one of which still sported flecks of its owner's blood. Walker smiled at his target.

Arthur sneered back, shifting into the appropriate fighting stance. They locked in battle both moving fluidly through well-practiced motions. With Arthur's shoulder injury slowing him down, they were evenly matched. The assassin was skilled with the swords, but he was impatient. A flaw of which Arthur was quite happy to take advantage. Nonetheless, he was tiring. Finally his foot slipped on a patch of ice and he was forced to his knees. Walker laughed.

"Seems fitting don't it? For a King ta kneel to the 'arbinger of 'is own death." Walker pressed forward a little harder against Arthur's block.

There was a rustling in the shrubbery behind him and a hazardously-underdressed and pallid Mordred stumbled into sight. He leaned heavily against the tree at his back.

"That isn't who you are," Mordred corrected.

Walker glanced over his shoulder "Ya really think-"

Arthur took the opening provided, managing to regain his guard before the counter attack. He sliced the assassin's arm but Walker kicked his knee and punched his wounded shoulder.

"Arthur!" Mordred exclaimed, seeing Excalibur fall from the King's grip.

"You can't stop me, Lad," Walker proclaimed, pressing his sword to his victim's throat. "I've already murdered ya! You're just too stubborn to no'ice!"

"Have a horrible time," Mordred said roughly, snapping the killer's full attention to him. "Bran! Gabh air!"

This time the wolf wasn't holding back. In a blur of silver, Walker was on the ground screaming while Bran's fangs tore through the junction of his neck and shoulder.

"Are you injured, Sire?" Mordred inquired, beginning to slur his speech a little.

"Nothing new, I think," Arthur answered, watching Bran stop tormenting his limp prey and just sort of flop down to nap on top of him.

"Good," Arthur's habitual rescuer mumbled, sliding to the ground.

"Mordred?" Arthur ran over to him, only to see the boy's eyes falling shut. "Mordred!"

"Hhmnh..."

"What did he do to you? Mordred!" He slapped the unresponsive teen awake.

"Ahhkf..." Mordred struggled to keep his eyes open long enough to scowl at the violent royal. "Hhh dart."

Arthur found and inspected the puncture mark, noticing how ice cold Mordred's flesh was. Colder than a corpse… he brushed the non-constructive thought aside. Stubborn was an understatement. As far as the King could tell, it was a miracle that Mordred wasn't dead yet. He turned and called to the approaching guards.

"Over here!" Then Arthur pulled off his cloak and wrapped it tightly around Mordred.

Two weeks later, Mordred knelt before the dais decked out in his new knightly attire. The King and Queen of Camelot stood proudly before him while their subjects gathered in the hall around them looked on solemnly. Arthur stepped forward touching his sword lightly to each of Mordred's shoulders.

"Rise, Sir Mordred, Knight of Camelot."

Mordred stood and saw the King smiling down at him. He smiled back, a true smile, as the first traces hope grew in his heart. He was unable to run from his fate. The past few years had proven that. That didn't mean that he couldn't improve it. Perhaps, this way he and Arthur could be friends, rather than the Once and Future King and his Bane.

The court erupted in applause, even the Queen was clapping. Mordred was a bit thrown by that; after all, they barely knew each other. He was considering whether it would be impolite to inquire about until...

"Did Sir Gwaine just whistle at us?"

Arthur clasped his armored shoulder, correcting, "He whistled at you." He chuckled in response to the teen's incredulous look. "You'll get used to him."

Mordred strode out of the hall smiling wanly to himself. It had been a long time since anyone had shown appreciation for anything he did, or really since he was around people who cared about him more than just to use him in some way. He paused to take in the beautiful stained-glass window that towered to the high ceiling of the palace before moving to unclasp his scarlet cape.

"You know, if Arthur knew of your magic, things would be very different," a familiar voice remarked conversationally.

Mordred's fingers stilled over the clasp, and he looked back at the King's servant. He wasn't going to disrespect Emrys by pretending to be caught unawares. Each of them could sense the other through their magic in different ways.

"Here," Merlin stepped forward, already reaching for Mordred's collar. "Let me help you with that."

"Thank you, Emrys."

Merlin flashed him a warning look.

"No one is going to overhear us," Mordred pointed out.

"You shouldn't use that name here."

"Just as it is unwise to speak of magic aloud within these walls? What do you want, Emrys?" Mordred inquired while Merlin folded up his cape.

"I want to know why you keep saving Arthur." The older warlock didn't look up at him from the vibrantly colored fabric in his arms.

"I should think the answer would be obvious," Mordred commented lightly.

Merlin looked up to pin him with a piercing stare.

"He is a good man," Mordred clarified, "More than that, he is important to the future of our people. I want him to live."

"You were the one who followed us into the woods," Merlin accused.

"In order to help you. ...You disapprove of my choice to stop her from murdering the Once and Future King?"

"Morgana trusted you. She still cared for you enough that she was willing to kill in order to protect you, but you stabbed her in the back," Merlin recalled, stepping into Mordred's personal space. His voice cracked; going rougher and more reptilian halfway through, although what had caused that lapse Mordred didn't know. "Why should I trust you?"

"You led soldiers into my camp when I was ten. You tried to kill me," Mordred returned in a reasonable tone. "Perhaps the root of our sins is more similar than you imagine."

Merlin stepped back. His face was stern, but Mordred had seen the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.

"I am here for you, Emrys. I hope that you can find it in your heart to give me a chance," Mordred told him, stepping around the more powerful magic user and heading out of the room. "If you feel you must betray my secret, so be it. I will not surrender yours." With those last words he strode out into the hall, leaving his people's messiah to ponder the moral quandary Mordred had left him in.

(Mordred smirks, "We'll let him stew over that one for a while. He wasn't going to tell Arthur anything, mind you. I just don't take threats very well. The truth is that he holds all the cards. Emrys could destroy me with a whisper, or a whim. But I know what buttons to press in order to keep him thinking it over. Emotion can be more powerful than any spell. Emrys will not betray my trust, because unlike me, he really is a good person.)

A/N: Okay, so the first episode is finally over. I've got the next episode typed up...mostly but just as a caveat my computer is dead. I will keep updating when I can. I Hope you guys all enjoyed this. The next ep will jump into Uther's return, dun dun DUNN! Also Mordred's struggle adjusting to life within Camelot begin so...Fun. Anyway, thank you for reading this. Special thanks to The Hope Lions, catherine10, and Agana of the Night for reviewing. Now, as I warn/promised a songlist for this... (It's under the translation.)

Morgana's spell: Hush child, the mother is watching over you. We will allow no harm to befall him!

His Majesty's Secret Songlist PtI:The Prophecy & the Bastard

Battle cry- Imagine Dragons(Theme, sets the mood for both the opening sequence & the entire series/ it is Mordred's mindset distilled. Seriously.)

Run Boy Run- Woodkid (Mordred's multiple escapes in the Introduction)

If I had a heart- Fever Ray (Morgana dreams of Mordred)

Faith in love-CSS (Mordred battles Melwas/ Merlin battles his conscience)

Lord, help the poor and needy-Cat Power (Walker poisons Mordred/ Arthur is shot at from above)

Who are you really?- Mikky Ekko (Mordred and Merlin speak after the ceremony/ Mordred reveals to us his strategy)