Author's Note: Oh, what could Ceira and Arthur be planning? Well, we get a bit of a hint in this chapter - huzzah! Sorry, I'm really tired and I don't think that my fingers will be able to type another big A/N :/ Sorry… But it's pretty self-explanatory J Review for little old me? x

Disclaimer: I still do not own any characters of Shine and the BBC's TV programme Merlin (wish I did!) but any added characters and plotlines were completely my genius! All mistakes and splelnig errrors are also my own, which are not so genius…

Chapter Forty Three

Primed

That night was one of the worst ones Ceira could remember. Her closed eyelids seemed to be no protection from the terrible chains of images that haunted her through the nightmares. Images of the previous evening flashed around, spinning in and out of sight, teasing and taunting her. First there were flames. Terrible flames that jumped up and licked over her skin, playing with their food before they swallowed it up. They then gave way to pictures of her changing into the horrific, bloodthirsty, winged, wolf-like beast that she was. Ceira could tell Emrys' face had been full of terror and disbelief under that hood… full of fear. She had woken screaming. Sweat dampened her skin and her whole body was shaking. Within a second Emrys had come through the drape and was by her side. He took up her violently shaking hand and held it tight in his own.

"It's OK Ceira. I'm here now. It's Emrys. You're safe. What happened?" Emrys comforted her. Ceira took a couple of shuddery breaths to steady herself and looked up at Emrys.

"It was just a nightmare. I'm fine now. Thanks Emrys." She smiled gingerly up at him.

"Well as long as you're OK," he got to his feet and glanced around him. "Well it's time to get up anyway so I'll go and look for some firewood," Emrys said, stretching. He exited the tent silently and Ceira heard him muttering the incantations that would allow him out of the force field. Last night he had altered the spells so that they would allow her through as well. He had also made it so if someone did breach the shelter then the alarm would sound in her head too. She heard him head off into the distance, rustling the leaves only slightly beneath his feet. Ceira brushed her hair off her face and sat up in the bundle of sheets that acted as a bed. Ceira had tried to persuade Emrys to sleep in the bed and she would sleep outside but he had had none of it. So now Emrys slept in the tree just outside the shelter quite happily. She stood up and made her way out of the tent. She stepped over to the small pile of sticks that was the remnants of last night's fire. It was colder this morning. Much colder. Autumn was definitely starting to give way to its sister Winter. Even a couple of the twigs on the pile had lines of hoarfrost streaking them. Ceira held her hand out over the heap and muttered a spell.

"Fléonge," the twigs burst into flame and Ceira flinched. She still had flashbacks of that horrific time whenever she saw fire. Emrys had had to hug her close for the whole time they had the fire lit last night. He understood, he knew what it felt like being tied to that pyre and coming within inches of death. Ceira made her way over to the stream that ran close by to the hideout. She splashed her face with the shimmering water and drew in a sharp breath when it hit her skin. It was icy cold. She came back to the fire shivering. Emrys was there stacking thicker sticks up against the now blazing fire.

"You started this on your own?" he questioned without looking up, sensing her presence.

"Yeah, I mean with all that's going on I can't afford to be scared of a bit of fire," she said. Emrys nodded, standing up and looking at her.

"That reminds me, we'll have to start making preparations for our revenge on Arthur. If we're going to defeat him, we're going to need to prepare for it," Emrys said.

"Prepare for what? What are we going to do?" asked Ceira.

"We're going to need an army to take down Arthur," Emrys said, starting to pace up and down in front of the fire. "And not just any old army. One that will overthrow Arthur, his father and the whole kingdom. An army of magic."

Arthur bit his lip as he stepped out of his father's chambers. He couldn't say he hadn't expected it. Uther hadn't been as angry as Arthur had anticipated but for what his father had lacked in frustration he had made up for in time. Arthur had been stuck in there for at least half an hour, having to nod and acknowledge each of his father's words to make it look like he was listening. In reality his mind had been way beyond that room. He had been wondering how he would prepare his Knights for the upcoming… well he didn't know. That was part of the problem. It was all very well telling them to up their game and that they would have to work extra hard but it all seemed a little pointless when you didn't know what you were actually preparing for. Even as he thought now, his Knights were training harder than they ever had before, practising everything to do with fighting. Sword combat, mounted fighting, unarmed combat, they were doing it all. Arthur asked that a group of his best guards would join them in their training. Despite all that he did, Arthur still felt like all this was a little futile. Yes he had a large army and his Knights were no doubt the best for miles, although Arthur had to keep reminding himself of who he was actually up against. A great and powerful sorcerer and a shape shifting sorceress. He had fought against magic before and his weapons had been rendered useless. He just hoped, prayed, that those times wouldn't repeat themselves.

Author's Note: Oh poor little (not so) innocent, oblivious Arthur… Reviewww? x