Arthur's given hope. The group keeps trying. Nimueh may have a sliver of a heart. And Mordred is wise.

Standing before the king is intimidating. Standing before him, waiting to be acknowledged after being summoned, only to be ignored, is equally as awkward as intimidating. He keeps to protocol with royal etiquette: feet planted shoulder width apart, head bowed, hands clasped behind his back, perfect model of subservience.

"All right, Mr. Sellers. What do you have to tell me?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. I contacted the Royal Guard to inquire of Emrys' whereabouts. I was informed that she and his highness have traveled to Ambrosia to celebrate their mutual birthday with her family. They will be returning the following day."

Uther rises from his office 'throne' and edges towards the large window overlooking the grounds of Buckingham Palace. "I don't buy it. The moment magic seemingly vanishes from the planet, Magic herself, or so she would have me believe, also disappears? No, Ms. Ambrose knows exactly what is going on, and I want answers. I want you to go to Ambrosia under the pretense of retrieving my son. Emrys will have to accompany him as his Guard. Once back in the United Kingdom you will bring them directly to me, you understand?"

"Consider it done, sire. May I inquire as to the location of Ambrosia?" If the king knew, it would save the assistant some time from research.

"Somewhere in Ireland. You can find it yourself." He waves his hand dismissively while implying the young man's incompetence.

"Of course, sire. I will book the first flight from Heathrow to Dublin. By your leave?" He restrains his fidgeting to conceal his discomfort.

Without so much as a second glance for his personal assistant, regarding him unworthy of eye contact, Mr. Sellers can only assume his clearance is implied as the king resumes his previous desk work. Prior to the door shutting behind him, the man already has his phone out googling possible flights between the British and Irish cities. He's going to Ambrosia.

--

Okay, she has to concede the warlock rattled her with his 'end of the world' talk, and she confesses the population growth was not one of her considerations, but after much rumination she's arrived at her conclusion: dragons are master manipulators, and isn't Merlynn a dragonlady? This is just a weak attempt to save their kin. If they would have said a few decades or several years then she might have believed it. But a few weeks? And isn't it interesting that that is the predicted lifespan of the Once and Future King without Emrys' protection. No this is their sorry excuse way to save their family and savior. Well, she's not falling for it. Aithusa may be old and wise, but Nimueh is older and quite savvy to the schemes of the ancient beast, and she's not going to sacrifice everything she's worked for on the words of a creature known for its twisted truths and riddles. No she's proceeding with the course she's set. If anyone wants to stop her it will have to be the Triple Goddess herself. Until then, full steam ahead. First things first, free the royal.

Nimueh isn't taking any chances on Arthur being discovered. He has quite the distance to go before meeting her the next day. It is cutting it close but without magic the only conceivable time for the prince to leave would be in the middle of night. She bought him three separate disguises. One she's placing in a storage shed she found within the student flat compounds. The ancient priestess knows that is where they are keeping him. The second one she's leaving in a locker at a bus depot a third of the way there. The last one she's hiding at the halfway mark between the depot and the cafe, in a bin bag behind a skip in an alley. After her final placement, Nimueh leans into the brick building and withdraws her phone from her handbag. Next task, contact the prince.

--

Arthur's been resting, almost consistently, against Merlynn's closet, after discovering he can never touch her again. He feels numb, like if he can't touch her then he can't touch anything, can't feel any sensation from any contact with any object or being. He knows it's there, of course it is, but it's lost all meaning, lost purpose. If he can't touch his soulmate then there's nothing worth touching. Arthur knows Leon's been bringing him food and water. Whenever he spots it on the floor next to him he eats and drinks. Whenever the need arises he uses the loo, but other than those essential life necessities he just sits, sits and watches his Goddess, her chest rise and fall, the only sign she still lives.

Bzzz.

Who would be texting him? Arthur's friends know he's there and would contact Leon before they would him, and his father would never call him, just send someone after him. It's a private line blocking any spam calls and very few even have the number. Arthur almost doesn't read it but when he glimpses the word 'Merlynn', his curiosity gets the best of him.

'Want to save Merlynn?'

What kind of question is that? What's he going to say? No? 'Who is this?'

'A friend. Do you want to save her or not?'

'Of course, I want to save her. Everyone does.'

'I can wake your Goddess.'

Skeptical, but also intrigued Arthur texts. 'How? Magic is down currently.'

'You'll have to trust me.'

He snorts at the gall. 'Why should I trust you? I don't even know you. How did you get this number?' Arthur's irritated and bristles at the possibility of this being some kind of sick joke.

'I'm very resourceful. And you don't have a choice.'

He always has a choice. He's the prince... but regardless, there's no point. 'Well, she's not my Goddess, not anymore. She can only be my bodyguard. I think my friends have a better chance at waking her than some dodgey person texting me, anyway.' When there's no response after a minute he drops his phone to his side and resumes with his wallowing.

Bzzz.

When he glances at the screen he sees it's the same mystery caller.

'Why would you say she's no longer yours?'

Should he say anything?... Really, what could it hurt? 'I've been spelled. I can't touch her ever again.' There's another lengthy pause before his phone buzzes once more.

'I can help you with that as well.'

Now that has his attention, but not wanting to get his hopes up he needs more information. 'How can you do that without magic?'

'Merlynn is the heart of all living magic. When she restrained herself she blocked us all off from that flow, but anything already imbued with magic, that has power on its own, still has it, such as magical artifacts. I have such one that when you wear it any spells or enchantments on your person are rendered obsolete. You'll be able to touch her as much as you ever could.'

Could it be? Is there really a chance? How can Arthur pass up this opportunity, especially since it's the only chance he has to hold his Merlynn again? And for that, he'd sacrifice his throne. 'I'm listening'.

'I will contact you again soon'.

Arthur reads the text over and over, verifying it wasn't a dream, that there is hope. Now, when he looks at his angel lying peacefully on the soft duvet he sees a future. They thought they could keep Merlynn from Arthur. They thought wrong. As soon as she's awake he's going to take her far from this place, far from anyone. Morgana can be queen. All he needs is his soulmate, and she's all he'll ever need again. For the first time in days, Arthur smiles.

--

Nimueh rolls back the door and tosses the bag in with a bottle of water. She really shouldn't care, but perhaps nostalgia of the past, memories of all the partnerships she's had with Mordred throughout centuries, she feels compelled to at least show him the mercy of sustenance. He's curled up in a corner looking all pitiful, nothing like the powerful priest of days gone by. He's using his forearm to block out the sudden burst of light. "This is all you get until tomorrow, so I suggest you eat all of it. Any requests for your last meal?"

Mordred glances at Nimueh who's no longer playing the diabolical mastermind. Now, he's become just a temporary responsibility soon to be disposed of. "All of my requests would be Ambrosian. I know of nothing else."

The priestess considers this. "Well, as long as your taste buds haven't changed since the last life I think I know what to get you." She turns to leave.

"Wait!"

"Yes?"

He looks at her curiously. "Why are you being nice to me?"

Nimueh narrows her eyes. She supposes that's fair and to be expected. She does want him dead, after all. But something inside her needs him to understand. "I know you may think otherwise, but I'm not evil. I don't enjoy hurting others. You are a means to an end and that means requires provisions. Plus... since I lost the sisters you've been the closest thing I've had to a friend for over a millennium. So maybe out of respect for our history." Just before the door slams shut he hears a barely audible. "I'll see you tomorrow, Mordred." Then she's nothing but a whisper in the wind.

The warlock crawls to where he saw her toss the bag. Mordred can't see, forced into darkness by the sealed enclosure, but he can feel. Two burgers, chips, and crisps. But what really surprises him is the large dessert wrapped in cellophane, a white chocolate macadamia nut biscuit... his favorite. Odd. Perhaps there's more to this priestess than meets the eye. Such a simple thing representing something so significant. Deep inside that cold exterior, a heart still beats. Huh, maybe there's hope for Nimueh yet.

--

After doing some research, the sisters determine the softest and easiest metal for engraving is copper. They're able to find and make the purchase at a local BQ, then finally they're ready to ring the blacksmith's daughter.

"Morgana?"

"Hi Gwen. Morgause and I just bought a sheet of metal. We're hoping your father might be able to forge some makeshift cuffs for us. Would that be a possibility?"

"Sure, I'll call him. What type of metal did you buy?"

"Copper."

"Mmm. That's not very strong and pretty malleable."

"That's okay. They don't even have to be chained. The bracelets should suffice. We just need cuffs that can be inscribed, and we read that copper is simple to carve."

"That's true. Certainly. I'll ring my dad now and put a rush on it. Should only take about an hour. Do you have an engraver?"

"No. We thought we'd just do it ourselves. It doesn't have to be pretty."

"Okay. You can head on over to the shop, and I'll let him know you're coming."

"Thanks Gwen. Bye."

"Bye."

"So, her father can make the cuffs?"

"Yes. She said it should only be about an hour. Let's go ahead and call that rune expert professor at the university. We don't have time for mistakes and he can make sure we get it right."

"Agreed. How far is it to the blacksmith's?"

"Not too far. About twenty minutes, I think."

"What if we split up?"

"Mmm. We were going to use my princess status to open some doors for us. Though I guess I can call them and let them know you're coming."

"That will work. I'll get started on the rune work and you take care of the restraints. I'm sure I'll still be working when you're finished, so you can just go to the school afterwards. If I'm not in the library I'm likely still with the professor on the magical studies floor. It shouldn't be hard to find, and we'll still have our phones if necessary."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Good. See you later."

With how quickly things are moving they could possibly free Merlynn by this evening. With magic back they should be able to locate Mordred easily. That's the key to everything. Magic.

--

Despite Leon's presence Elena and Gwen stay behind. It's not that they don't trust the first knight, but more so they can't stand leaving their friend alone with the Arthur. They know nothing is going to happen, but even thinking of walking away feels too much like betrayal and abandonment. They just can't bring themselves to do it. They've heard that people in comas can hear what you're saying, so each girl alternates talking to her. Sometimes it's just affirmations of love and appreciation. Other times it's entertainment with reading or music. Sometimes it's simply physical contact. Either way, their friend is never alone, especially with the prince. They don't really mind his proximity as currently Arthur's more statue than man. They doubt their words would even compute anyway. He only speaks when directly spoken to and mostly only one word answers. It's like Arthur's not even there and that's how they prefer it.

Before everyone left on their hunt for Nimueh and Mordred, Leon had one of his Guards bring him seven coms. Now they all can stay connected at once without the slower inconvenience of conference calls on their mobiles. Leon is presently sipping his cuppa vertical against a counter in the kitchen. He decides the group has been out long enough, and it's time for some communication. "All right everyone, hopefully we all are on the same frequency. It's time to check in. I want to hear from Mithian and Percy first. Over."

Mithian and Percival were paired as the gentle giant majoring in law enforcement knows how to delve into someone's past, and Mithian as a prominent solicitor has an array of favors she can exploit to give him access to necessary resources. They make an effective team. "Yes, we have found some information. Quite interesting in fact. A Nimueh Jones, who we believe is an alias, used to work as a renowned chemist for... get this, 'Essetir Pharmaceuticals'. Yes, that is the same company producing Liberty," Mithian informs the other legends.

"That's not everything, people. Her last date of employment was over thirty years ago, when she was fired for 'ethical reasons'. Now, we did not get the impression that this woman was that old, did you all? With the additional six years of her actual employment, that was almost forty years ago. Not forgetting how long she had to be educated for majoring in chemistry, this woman could be a grandmother. Over," Percy adds.

"That is surprising. How could an old woman get the drop on a young man when neither have magic? Over." Leon asks.

"She had to have tricked him. But honestly, how is that relevant? Over."

"I'm not sure yet, Elyan, but something tells me it's significant. But, you're right. It won't help us find her and that has to be our priority. It does make a bearing on the length of our search, though. If we have to obtain information back that far, our investigation just became quite extensive. Over."

"Not necessarily. We can stick to more recent for now and see what presents itself. Only if we are unsuccessful do we need to go further back. Over."

"I agree with Lance. We need to stick to our current strategy and only switch gears if this one fails. Over." Sefa says.

"Except I do think Perce and I need to dig deeper with her previous employment. Fired for ethical reasons is shady and warrants further investigation. Over."

"Okay then. Fun loving and fearless, what do you have for us? Over."

"Well, we were responsible for her finances." Sefa has many business contacts and deals with various bank chains consistently. Elyan may be focusing on hospital administration in school, but average administration and accounting is similar across the board. They make a dynamic duo for their assigned task.

"This has definitely been more difficult then expected as the woman is 'don't put all your eggs in one basket' personified. She has accounts everywhere, and we mean everywhere. We have yet to find a chain she doesn't, at the very least, have savings. She is either teleporting all the time or she is willing to make the drive between banks. It seems completely random which bank she uses, but she never goes to the same one twice in a row." Elyan has only examined locally. He's yet to move internationally.

Sefa reports more findings. "We also discovered that she utilizes aliases like they were heels. How she can manage that we don't know. My guess is magic. She apparently wasn't worried about being discovered through her first name. Since it's unusual the algorithm was able to find her easy. When you compare all the withdrawals between the various banks there's no doubt it's her. What we can gather this woman is beyond paranoid which implies she is doing something highly illegal. That's an inference, not a fact, however. Over."

"Wow. That is a lot. Unfortunately, all of your information means she is going to be harder to find. This woman knows how to hide, and the only thing we seem to have in our favor is she can't rely on her magic. What about you noble and wise? Can you give us any good news? Over."

Gwaine and Lance were paired as the both of them together are good with people. The rogue knows how to get people to talk, and Lance makes them comfortable with his kind and subdued manner. They balance each other nicely for any public relations. "Sadly, we can only tell you more of the same. This woman is a ghost."

"What Gwaine means to say is Nimueh is more of a legend that no one's ever seen. They know she's here, but for them she's an untouchable celebrity that exists in their minds but not in real life. We did find a couple magic users that's whole power is detecting magic, but of course that doesn't help us at the moment. As far as we can find the only people that have ever seen her are Morgana and Morgause. And as private as she seems to be, I wouldn't be surprised if she uses a glamour. Over."

"I think the likelihood of that is high as well. All I can say everyone is continue your search. Meet back here when the sun goes down. We'll have dinner and hopefully discuss some breakthroughs. I will contact the sisters. Over."

Each of the search parties sign off. They pray Morgana and Morgause have some better news for them. The search for Nimueh appears more and more complicated by the minute. The sisters may be their only hope.

--

As soon as Morgana walks through the door she sees Morgause thumbing through a text. "What do you have there? And where's the professor?"

The blonde glimpses to see who's entered. "Oh, Morgana. I didn't see you come in."

"Obviously. You seem pretty engrossed." Books are spread over the table, some open to various pages. Clearly Morgause has been busy.

"Yes, I've already been at this for a couple hours."

"Yeah, sorry about that. Turns out our choice was a little too soft. He had to make it thicker to maintain its shape. Took longer."

Morgause nods in understanding. "Well, the gentleman we need to speak with is currently out of town, but will be returning tomorrow. In the mean time he gave his colleague permission for me to raid his personal library. These are all the texts I could find on the old language and druidic symbols. So you have the cuffs?"

"Wouldn't be here if I didn't." Morgana reaches into her handbag and extracts a square jewelry box. She opens the lid to reveal the contents inside. Two copper cuffs are situated side-by-side. "I didn't realize Tom also dabbles in jewelry and he had this..." gestures to the velvet container. "...back in his inventory. It's a good thing too. They can be easily damaged, but they're perfect for our needs. How about you? Judging how frantic you seem I'd guess you haven't had much success."

"Well, I was able to learn what types of runes we'll need. It turns out the whole balance necessity in the old religion sometimes is quite literal. For every symbol carved into the restraints we must find its exact opposite. Such as if it meant light then we'd have to find the one that means dark. Any variations of the word dark would not be acceptable. First we have to know exactly what the restraints say. It's the same words from the middle ages, so we're looking at the old language or more specifically the old, old language, which has adapted over centuries. The problem is the only one who would know it is the creator, Nimueh herself. She used an ancient version from even before my time to make the restraints all the more inescapable."

Well, that's disheartening. "What can we do?"

"Research. If we take into account the history of the symbols, the old English speech, and the predilections of our fellow priestess, we might be able to decipher the meaning fairly accurately."

"Might?"

Morgause shrugs. "It's all we have." She slides another text over to the princess, who makes herself comfortable before diving in.

--

The plane touches down right on time. Mr. Sellers figures he'll probably just rent a car as the place is supposedly fairly remote and likely doesn't have any public transportation.

Upon entering the terminal of the airport, the crown's steward searches out a concession that would have a map of Ireland. As soon as he has one in hand he finds a bench where he can comfortably scrutinize over the country's lands. As expected Ambrosia is not listed, and he'll have to seek assistance. Conveniently, a glance reveals the welcome help desk down the aisle. He grabs his belongings and goes to speak to the attendant.

"Are you okay there, lad?"

An older gentleman is addressing him from behind the counter. "Oh, I would appreciate some help, I think. I'm looking for Ambrosia." He says while casually laying his coat across the desk leaving his leather messenger bag at his feet.

"Hmm? Ambrosia? Never heard of it. I'll just enter it into the computer and see what it can tell us."

Sellers waits while the man types away on the keyboard.

"Maybe a different spelling? How is it spelled?"

"Uh... A - M - B - R - O - S - I - A."

"That's what I thought. The database isn't finding anything under that name. And the search engine isn't picking up on a location or any commercial address with Ambrosia in it. Are you sure that's the name of it?"

"Positive."

"And you're sure it's in Ireland?"

"That's what all the paperwork says." Or so he was told. Out of curiosity he pulls out his laptop and enters his password and code to access Guard employment records. There we are, Merlynn Ambrose. Ambrosia... Ambrosia? Country: Ambrosia. Did his majesty even read this? "Are there any outlying islands that are not necessarily considered Ireland?"

"Er... Not that I know of. What's the problem?"

"I'm trying to locate someone that is from Ambrosia, but after reviewing her records the city is Ambrosia and the country is Ambrosia. She has an Irish accent, so apparently it was assumed she was from Ireland. Are there any autonomous territories here?"

"I don't know of any, but there might be someone who does. There's a travel journalist that happens to be here today. If anyone knows all of Ireland, it's him."

"Brilliant! Where can I find him?" Sellers really doesn't want to report back to King Uther he was unsuccessful. This journalist just might be his knight in shining armor.

"He's actually normally sitting in the cafe about halfway down the concourse. You can't miss him. He has bright red hair and wears black horn-rimmed glasses. Name's Aiden O'Connor."

"Awesome! Thank you." With bags in hand, he strides down the concourse until he notices a cafe to the right. A quick peek inside confirms the man described at reception is in fact the same gentleman savoring a steaming beverage in a corner booth. Sellers doesn't waste time in his approach. "Uh, excuse me. You wouldn't by chance be Mr. O'Connor, would you?"

The man finishes perusing his phone ands gaze lifts to face the king's assistant. "I am."

With his identity verified he slides into a chair across from the journalist. "I apologize for the interruption, but I was wondering if you could help me. I was told you would be the one to speak to about various locations around Ireland."

"I would say I am an expert on the Emerald Isle."

"Wonderful." He lays a map out on the table and the two begin discussing possible Ambrosia locales. Neither man realizes they never consider the north, almost like it isn't even there.

--

After everyone arrives back at the flat, each pair outlines their findings. They aren't good.

"She always pays cash for things." Sefa and Elyan report first. "I don't think she even owns a credit card. She just withdraws money and purchases whatever."

"We didn't fare any better, either. Lance and I aren't by any means finished with the list, but as of today, no one can even tell us what Nimueh looks like."

"Well we didn't obtain anymore information, but we do have some leads to her past. Percy found a list of some of her old colleagues. We plan on meeting with them tomorrow. Hopefully they can give us more insight to why she left."

"Morgause and I have a meeting tomorrow with someone who's said to be an expert on ancient old religion language. The bracelets are perfect and easily engravable. All we need is the right runes and it should work." The sisters explained earlier their plan to weaken Merlynn's cuffs. They're depending a lot on hope with no guarantees.

"What about here? How are things?" Mithian asks.

"Same old, same old. Gwen and I have been alternating time with Merlynn. We never leave her alone with Arthur. That's why she's in there now, actually. He hasn't said anything. He's barely moved."

"I've been trying to work from here organizing assignments and checking on the Guard. How has yours been doing?" Leon asks Morgana.

"He's fine. Very discreet."

"That's what they are trained for, to blend into the background, shadows." Satisfied with Morgana's report Leon announces to everyone that dinner is on it's way. "I've got meat lovers, vegetarian, plain pepperoni, and Hawaiian. I think that accommodates everyone's tastes. I've got fizzy pop for drink. No liquor, including you, Gwaine. Won't do for any of us to have hangovers. Too much is at stake."

"Whoever wants to stay, can. We've got plenty of extra blankets and spare toothbrushes. If anyone wants to shower you're welcome to it. If you aren't staying, then everyone needs to be here by 8:00 am tomorrow, right Leon?"

"That's correct. We need all the time we can. At least we know Mordred is fine since Arthur's still here. Can anyone offer any assistance to other teams through knowledge, connections, expertise, etcetera?"

"We can tell you Nimueh's address if anyone wants to check out hers. We know she's not going back there."

"That's good. All right people. We need all our energy and brains tomorrow. Food should be here soon. Let's try and relax."

Despite the gravity of the situation relaxation does eventually find them all. Possibly it's the comraderie or the desire for a last hurrah in case things go south. Or maybe it's simply the bond of friendship that strengthens them all with a supernatural peace they will be successful. Whatever it is, it's clear that the legends greatest power... is each other.

--

Now's the hard part. If Nimueh had her magic it wouldn't be an issue. A simple spell would render them all unconscious, but alas she must do without. No, she can only use mundane methods this time, which leaves the priestess staring disgusted at the bottle in her hands. It's crude and juvenile and so beneath her fifteen hundred year genius, but it will get the job done, and she doesn't have time to devise anything better. As soon as Nimueh sees the young man obviously moving in the direction of the Goddess' flat she darts out from around the corner. With a little pep in her step, CamU jumper, torn jeans, and a messy bun, she looks every bit a uni student.

"Excuse me!" Nimueh notices the boy is already eyeing her form. Teenagers are so easy. He'll play right into her hands. "Hi." She pants to catch her breath. "You wouldn't by chance be heading to that flat would you?" She gestures to the aforementioned door.

"Ye-ess." He answers curiously.

The priestess purposely curls her lips in a sinister smirk. "Good. I hope you can help me. See, we're kind of in a prank war and it's our turn for payback." She waves the bottle of laxative in front of the delivery boy.

"Uh, I don't know." He scratches the back of his head and shuffles his feet.

"I can pay you. I've got two tenners." She can tell he's still conflicted. Maybe another approach. "Come on. They posted online that we were having a party with the royals. Do you know how many fan girls showed up at our door? I'm grateful the press isn't allowed on campus. Can you imagine?"

"Are you serious? Bloody hell."

"Exactly. You see. We spent an evening dealing with campus security for disturbing the peace. Don't you think they can spend the night in the loo?"

He hesitates, but with the doe eyes she's making he caves. "Yeah, okay."

He lays the boxes out on the sidewalk and Nimueh proceeds to dribble the solution on each slice, not missing a single one. What's really in the decoy container is an industrial strength sleep aid that would down a horse for hours. It takes some time to kick in, but is very effective once it does. She wants to ensure Arthur has plenty of time to escape. After she's finished she hands the boy his payment and sends him off with a wink, a little extra flirtation so he doesn't beg off. True to form of any teenage boy, he struts up to the door and makes the delivery. With a self-satisfied smile she types another text to the prince.

'Don't eat the pizza.'

--

Sellers is shaking with nerves. The king is not going to like this. He sat with the expert going city by city, town by town, with no sign of Ambrosia. He researched the outlying islands and they were either uninhabitable or still considered Ireland. Waving the white flag in defeat, his majesty's steward can only pray he doesn't lose his job. He calls the private line and waits for his sovereign to answer.

"Mr. Sellers. I hope you have good news for me."

"I'm sorry Your Majesty, but I was unable to find Ambrosia. No one here has ever heard of it, including the Ireland travel expert I spoke to. He claims it doesn't exist. I apologize, sire, but I don't know where to go from here if not even the locals know of it. His Highness and Emrys should be returning the day after tomorrow. Might I suggest we wait until then?" There is silence over the line and beads of perspiration form on his forehead. He's always had that reaction to nerves, and waiting on the other end of the line of the king is no exception. After what seems like forever his fate is decided.

"Fine. It seems Ms. Ambrose will have to answer for giving false information on her paperwork amongst other things. You are free to return."

Click.

The assistant breathes a sigh of relief. He thought for sure he was going to take the brunt of the king's ire, but it seems he is saving that for the witch. No matter. At least he's in the clear.

--

Arthur hears everyone in the living room talking, and he thinks a movie has started playing. He's not really paying attention to what's being said. He doesn't need to as he got the text, and it's only a matter of time that he'll be out of there and able to rid himself of this cursed spell. Arthur will not be separated from Merlynn again. As soon as she's awake he's going to take her somewhere where no one will ever find them. They'll have each other, and that's all they'll need.

"Here you go, Arthur. It's meat lovers, your favorite." Leon sits a paper plate of two slices of pizza next to the prince, along with a bottle of water. "Gwen, do you want to go get yourself some? I'll stay here."

The brunette eyes the take away delicacy and her stomach growls. "Okay. Either I or Elena will be back soon." She stands to make her way out of the room leaving the first knight and prince.

Leon eyes his friend more ponderous now than angry. There is no doubt that something is going on here that they don't know, a missing piece of the puzzle that will explain all the horrors that have occurred over the last several weeks. "What happened to you Arthur?" He doesn't expect an answer, other than a possible epiphany that might suddenly present itself. Sadly, the truth to this mystery still eludes him, eludes them all.

Arthur doesn't respond. Leon knows he isn't speaking right now, which means the Guard knows he's talking to himself. He's tired of everyone telling him there is something wrong with him. They can't know. They can't possibly understand what it is like with a soulmate and the constant draw. No, not a draw, a yank. A pull that lifts him right off his feet. Anyone else in his shoes would be acting the same way.

"I know you maybe don't feel like it right now, but I love you like a brother, and you're going to get through this, Arthur. I truly believe things will be revealed very soon that will shed light on everything. I refuse to believe this is you."

The blonde knows his friend is talking but the words aren't registering. The countdown has begun. The text said it's in the pizza, and judging by the noise from the living room all his friends are happily partaking.

"I'm here now, Leon. You can go." Elena notices Leon is sitting with the arse instead of Merlynn. It feels like a betrayal, but she has to concede to the fact that the man grew up with the prince. He's his best friend. Deep down she knows they all are right. Something is wrong with Arthur. Elena just can't get over the suffering her roommate has endured. She's not sure she ever will. "Was there any change?"

"He hasn't said a thing. Apparently isn't going to eat either."

"Well, you can go on. Tell Gwaine I'll be in here for the rest of the evening."

"Will do. Do you want me to bring you any more pizza?"

"Nah. I'm good. Thanks." The blonde settles herself in the chair next to the bed where her friend still lies unconscious.

Arthur knows the venomous roommate has now joined him. He still leans against the closet, however, and doesn't acknowledge her presence. He knows from previously she won't talk to him anyway. He doesn't know what his 'friend' from text did to the pizza, but he is paying attention to any signs out of the ordinary.

After a while he notices things are getting quieter. He doesn't hear the chattering and he can hear the credits running from the end of whatever film they're watching. Soon there's silence. He peeks over the bed to the other side and sees Elena is fast asleep, her head lying on the edge of the mattress, still holding Merlynn's hand. He upheaves himself off the carpet and heads to the loo to relieve himself. Then he makes his way out to the kitchen and sees that all of his friends are in similar states as Elena. People are laid out all over the place: chairs, sofas, floor. It must have happened suddenly because two even fell asleep playing cards. He notices the digital clock on the stove reads around half two. Maybe he fell asleep at some point too. Not like everyone else, though. No, the positions, lack of blankets or comfort suggests theirs is an unnatural sleep, which means this is his chance. He goes back to his Goddess' bedroom and finds his phone. Sure enough he has a text.

'Go to the shed by the pool house. I've left you an outfit and disguise and instructions to your next location. You will not be able to leave until classes start in the morning and you can blend in. The sedative should last until mid morning but best to leave as soon as possible. You can stay in the shed until then. Cheer up, Your Highness. Your Goddess awaits you. By the end of tomorrow she'll be in your arms.'

Arthur smirks to himself. He strolls to the bed and leans in to give his love an air kiss on the forehead. "Goodbye, sweetheart. See you soon." Resurrecting some skills from his military days, he stealthily proceeds to the shed.

It's actually not bad. Unlike what you would expect from a shed it's pretty clean. Between the towels and life preservers used for community swimming lessons Arthur can actually make himself a decent cozy hideout until morning. Classes start at eight o'clock but not many students actually attend lectures that early. He should probably wait until nine o'clock when the campus will be bustling with more activity, much easier to blend in. He's grateful his anonymous friend had the foresight to not only pack him inconspicuous clothing, but some typical student props like backpack and travel mug. No one is going to guess the royal prince is behind the get up.

After obtaining more sleep he awakens to the sounds of morning students scurrying around campus. Excited for the promises of the day, Arthur springs to his feet and is soon sporting his disguise. At the bottom of the backpack is instructions to the next location. Once he knows it's clear, the future king exits the shed and joins the rest of the University crowd, everyone none the wiser. Looks like his first stop is a bus terminal.

"All right, Arthur. Time to get your Goddess."

--

The powerful priestess is back at the temple. Nimueh knows she won't be returning for a while. Even then she'll only go back once more to collect her belongings. Now, however, her sole purpose is to retrieve the promised amulet for the prince and his final vial. The last one will be depleted in his system and won't be nearly strong enough to induce murder, no matter how much he hates Mordred.

Nimueh finds the chest where she left it in a hidden room at the back of her quarters. Not even the sisters are aware of it. Regardless of their obliviousness she also locked the chest, keeping the key underneath a loose stone. Once the trunk is open she finds this particular treasure near the bottom, wrapped in satin, inside a jewelry box. The stone is a durable topaz to ensure the longevity of its energy. The priestess knows that if she had access to her magic she'd feel its power emanating. Currently, however, it simply appears as an average charm. She shuts the chest and relocks it, stowing it away to its given home. After all, the totem is not the only magical object she's acquired over the years.

Nimueh reenters the main area where her lab resides and goes to her chemical refrigerator to select the synthetic hormones she'll require. A dramatic increase in anger and jealousy ought to suffice. The desire should be decreased to the level of vial eight, however. The lust is still necessary to sustain the jealousy, but the level of nine might be too much, as she still needs Arthur capable of following through with his task. Too large of a reduction will also be suspicious.

Once the new mixture is prepared she has everything she came for. Now Nimueh must procure Mordred's last meal before she meets Arthur. Such a shame. Hopefully, the warlock will join her again the next life.

--

Elena stirs with the pain in her back from falling asleep bowed over the bed. She blinks her eyes open and sun rays illuminate the carpet. She's slept all night? Why didn't Gwaine wake her?

The blonde stretches then notices Arthur hasn't remained by the closet. Must be in the loo. "I'll send someone in, Merr. Don't worry. You won't be alone for long." When she enters the hallway she's instantly aware of the silence. Was it really that early? She's the first awake? Next she observes both loos are vacant. Starting to get an uneasy feeling she hastens towards the living room. Sure enough, all her friends are sound asleep. More worrying is Arthur is absent from the kitchen as well. She snatches her mobile from the counter and views the hour. "What the fuck?" Then it all comes together. All of the legends spread erratically around the room, an awol prince, and a late morning wake up call. Oh no. "Everyone up! Get up!" She knocks resting legs off the coffee table and pushes chairs dumping occupants on the floor. "Hurry people, on your feet!" She treks around the room shaking the more weary of the group and bestowing light slaps on their cheeks.

"What's going on, Elena?" Mithian asks, still processing how she fell asleep at the table.

"Look outside, people. We all passed out. It's already ten o'clock."

"What the hell? What happened?!" Leon is immediately springing off the chair.

"I can tell you what happened. Nimueh." Morgana's sister nods in agreement. "Shit! That means..."

"Yep. Arthur's gone."

"I don't understand. How did she do this? She doesn't have her magic."

Morgause spots the empty boxes laid out around the room. "It had to be the pizza. She drugged us. And Arthur had to have known."

Leon darts back to Merlynn's room. When he returns he's holding the plate with two slices. Not even a single bite off either.

"Damn. We need to go. It's only a matter of time before Mordred dies." Elyan says.

"Right. Everyone just stop and grab some breakfast out. I'll stay back and guard Merlynn. I'm surprised Uther hasn't already sent someone here."

"Oh believe me. He has something in mind. Unfortunately, Uther isn't the priority. Morgause and I are counting on you all to save Mordred while we focus on the bracelets."

"We've got this, Morgana. We know what's at stake. All right guys, let's move out." Gwaine rallies the Camelot Twelve. Merlynn, Mordred, magic, not to mention the world are counting on them. Failure is not an option.

--

Mordred has to block out the light while his eyes adjust from the darkness. A silhouette appears, standing directly before the sun.

"I have food." Nimueh gestures to the sack in her hands. "I won't be seeing you again as Arthur should be here this afternoon, and well... c'est la vie." If she maintains her indifference she can pretend this doesn't affect her. It doesn't. Not at all.

The bag denotes fine dining as opposed to cheap fast food. "What is it?" he asks surprised at her consideration.

"Based on what I've known of you in the past I got you a steak, salad, and seasoned scalloped potatoes. And to drink, fizzy pop. I'll be staying here for you to eat this time." She parks herself on the floor in front of him and passes him his meal. "Can't leave you with a steak knife now, can I?" Realizing this, she scoots herself away from the high priest reclining against the opposite wall.

Mordred has to admit the food is good. Apparently taste buds crossover to new lives. "Thank you. It's delicious." And he means it. The woman is obviously completely daft, and he can't help but feel sorry for her. To go to such lengths... the resentment and bitterness must be eating her alive. He can't even find it in him to be angry.

"Least I can do. I truly do look forward to seeing you in the next life, Mordred."

"I believe you mean that, Nimueh. I wish we would have gotten to know each other better."

"That was never going to happen this lifetime. You're in love with my nemesis. We'd clash."

"Have you even met her in this life?"

"Didn't need to. They are always the same."

"It's sad. I think had you not had this agenda you could have been friends."

Nimueh chuckles. Just the idea. "I think there would be a better shot for Uther and I."

"You can't mean that. Uther hates you just as much as you hate him. Merlynn, I think is incapable of hate. Except for maybe the prince currently."

"It would have only been temporary until they got their memories back. They know who I am and in no life is Nimueh ever friends with Emrys."

"If I can change why can't you? I've been Arthur's bane for centuries. Destiny or fate has even marked me with the red eyes. Yet I've changed."

Nimueh doesn't know what to say to that. It's interesting that in the prophecy she isn't even mentioned. It's Mordred and Morgana who are the supposed villains. Yet she has always been the big baddie. The priestess has become the evil Uther always accused her of. She realizes in a way by her descent she has given the tyrant of a king power over her. Ultimately he has guided her decisions for centuries with her thirst for revenge. Deep down Nimueh's aware that her bitterness and resentment towards the Goddess isn't jealousy of her power, but her happiness, but she can't think about that. She can't lose her resolve now, not when she's so close to achieving everything she ever wanted. "Are you about finished?"

He nods. "I'm done. I appreciate it." Nimueh takes his utensils and Mordred just stares at her curiously.

The priestess feels his eyes on her and it's unnerving. "Well, I need to head out. I'm meeting the prince." She stands and readies to leave, but is stopped by the warlock.

"You know, your hatred will stay even with Merlynn gone. You think it will leave with her but it won't, Nimueh. I hope you find what you're looking for. I really do, because believe it or not what you really seek is peace. And true peace will only find you by letting go. I hope you find it."

Nimueh doesn't know how to respond to his insight. She can't think on it. It already struck a cord and she can't afford to let it sink in. "Goodbye Mordred. See you in the next life." And she closes the door in more ways than one.

"Goodbye, Nimueh."

--

Arthur arrives at the last stop before the coffee house where he's supposed to meet his text 'friend'. He didn't even think to ask how he'd recognize them. Obviously they'll notice Arthur since they provided his incognito ensemble. This ridiculous costume has him looking like a vagrant, but at least it guarantees he's disregarded. No one pays attention to those deemed the scourge of society. The city's apathy to the plight of their fellow citizens is the very thing that saves their royal prince.

--

The two priestesses find themselves back at the university to meet with the reputed expert on the old religion language. Hopefully he can help the women determine the correct runes they'll need to counteract the power of the cuffs.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Goddess, I hope this works."

"Me too. I don't want anyone sacrificed for the 'greater' good." Morgause squeezes Morgana's hand.

"Come in."

Both women enter the room. They got lucky with catching the professor during office hours and not in class.

"Hello."

"Your Highness. My, I was told someone needed my expertise, but I didn't realize it was the princess."

"Yes. Sorry about that. I'm here secretly, and I didn't really want it to be a big deal. This is my friend, Morgause. Thank you for meeting with us, Dr. Dreyfuss." The man was shorter and probably in his early sixties with white hair and a bushy mustach. "We are trying to counteract a spell by creating it's opposite using the direct opposing runes. The problem is we are having a hard time determining what those runes are. As someone proficient in the Old Religion language we were hoping you could assist us."

"I see. Are you sure there isn't already a cure to whatever curse or enchantment this is?"

"Positive. The spell was created to be unbreakable. It's only an idea that we hope works to use the adverse rune. We know that the power is in the runes so maybe reverse symbols will weaken or nullify the previous ones."

He considers this holding his chin with arms crossed in front of him. "That's an interesting concept. Well, let's see what you have."

The two women lay out the paper with a copy of the runes written on the cuffs. He instantly notices an issue. "Well, you might have a problem. I can read this because fortunately the runes are similar, but this is clearly the ancient, Old Religion language. I only know the language that dates back a thousand years ago, but this goes back to even pre-medieval era. You said you need exact and all I can give you is the counter to these meanings as of the sixth century."

The sisters' faces drop. The uncertainty of success feels like a drain on their hearts.

"You're welcome to my library, however. I have class in about fifteen minutes. Before I go, I'll show you the opposite runes from the words represented here based on the newer Old Religion language."

"Thank you, professor. We appreciate it."

"My pleasure, Your Highness." He reviews the ideograms again and sketches the reverse script. "There you go."

Both sisters review the work, and the counter symbols certainly look like they would work, but can they rely on that?

"Well, I have to go now. Good luck to you ladies. Pleasure to meet you both."

"Likewise." They didn't pay anymore attention to him, too much in deep thought. The sisters barely hear the door close as they'd already started searching the professor's shelves for more books on runes. The number of them is overwhelming in both a positive and negative way. Positive because certainly in all of them there has to be at least one that could help them, but negative because they don't really have the luxury of time to go through them, thus don't have the time to worry about it either. Soon both sisters have several books strewn out in front of them. Defeat and despair mustn't override drive and determination.

The former would be their doom.

Fun fact: Nimueh's prank with the pizza boy was actually based on real life experience. I worked for a pizza chain and one of my co-workers was fired for allowing a sorority girl to prank his delivery customer. He got her number, so he considered it a win. "I can always get another job." Seriously? He's lucky it was just a prank. What an idiot.