A/N: I seem to be in a bit of... I dunno, a funk maybe? Sorry to get you hooked on daily updates then slow down like this, but I don't want to force out inferior chapters. Hopefully this isn't one. I left out the details of Arthur's deductions- should I put them back in? Not sure that they would really add anything. I'd appreciate your thoughts. (Thank you.)

Now, another cliffhanger!

Arthur stared at Merlin's inert form, trying to set his thoughts in order.
He had gone over what he knew and what he had observed and a ground-shaking possibility had come to mind.

No, no... it isn't possible...

But as soon as it occurred to him little bits of supporting evidence presented themselves one after the other in quick succession.

"There's nothing more you can do here, Sire- it is likely he will not wake for some time."

Gaius' words startled him from his horrifying conclusions- the physician's way of politely saying 'bugger off' propelling him into action.

"Very well, you will inform me when he wakes?"

"Of course, Sire." The elder bowed as his king swept from the room.

Time to check on Guinevere.

Without the monarch to worry about, the out-of-practice sorcerer leaned over his ward and muttered a spell as he clutched his boy's hand.
He sighed in relief and relaxed into his chair.

"What happened to him?"

Gaius nearly fell to the floor, having somehow forgotten Mordred's presence until that moment.

"He was stabbed- while recovering from being poisoned. His magic saved his life, but he will be exhausted for some time."

The youth started forward in concern, frowning at his fellow magic-worker.
"Who-?"

"We believe the poison was Morgana's work, as for the stabbing... Merlin is the only one who may know."

"The assassin's accomplice?"

"Perhaps."

"You suspect someone."

"Just a hunch of Merlin's."

"But Merlin is often right..."

The elder's expression was complex as he stared back at the former druid, a hint of pride, some sadness... and was that slight fear? He sighed.
"Maybe not as often as he thinks."

Arthur nodded to the guards posted outside the door before striding inside.

"Guinevere." He said gently, pulling the queen's gaze from the window Leon had not allowed her to stand near.

"Arthur." She rose and buried her face in his chest, slightly tense.

"Leon, check on the effort to locate any further attackers- report back to me if anything has been found."

"Yes Sire." The knight nodded and left.

The king's eyes watered slightly and he pulled his wife closer.

"What is it, Arthur?"
Brown orbs looked at him, though the expression was more... satisfied than curious or concerned.

"It's Merlin, he... he was stabbed."

The queen gasped, hand raising to her mouth (to hide her smirk, though Arthur couldn't see this).
"Oh Arthur, I'm so sorry..."

The analytical part of his brain found the suddenly compassionate response a bit odd- she hadn't even asked how badly he was injured!

"...I know he was your friend..."

He was your friend first- wait, 'was'?

"He isn't dead, Guinevere."

"What?"

The woman seemed to realize how inappropriate her shocked yell had been as she awkwardly smoothed her skirts and attempted to salvage the situation.
"Pardon me, I had simply assumed since he had been stabbed in the chest..."

Arthur felt his heart breaking.

Please, not Guinevere...

"I never said where he had been stabbed."
His voice was whisper-soft and strained, almost begging her to have an excuse for knowing.

"I overheard the guards saying someone had been found with a dagger in his heart, I just assumed..."
She was flustered now, speaking quickly and not meeting his gaze.

"Only a handful of people knew, none of whom have been near these rooms before myself."
He was resigned now, the denial melting away.

I should expect it by now.

"What are you saying? Arthur?"
She was backing away from the door, away from the warrior advancing toward her with melancholy eyes.

"Guinevere, it was you who attacked Merlin. Were you also the one responsible for the recent attempts on my life?"

"I would never, Arthur, you must believe me..."

The tears threatened to fall from his eyes, but still he persisted.
"Have you conspired against me as well, my love? Are you working with Morgana?"

"Arthur..." she said in a sorrowful voice, salty trails falling down her cheeks as she slowly stepped toward him- arms extended as if to cradle the man.

Vulnerable and a bit confused, the king allowed himself to be held.
A hopeful thought flitted across his mind.

Perhaps I was wrong...

The queen pulled away slightly to look him in the eye.

"Yes." Her face contorted into a snarl as she pulled the dagger from her sleeve and turned it toward her husband's unguarded neck.