A/N: A continuation of my 'Destiny Rising' series, set after 'In Sickness and in Health' - enjoy!

Chapter 1

Queen Elena's coronation would be spoken of for some time to come. People revelled in the streets of Gawant's citadel, love for their kingdom made clear by the banners they strung from their doors and windows. King Godwyn, Elena's father, had been a much-adored figure, known for his kind nature and generous spirit; Arthur had no doubt Elena would live up to the same example.

Inside the palace, the newly crowned queen sat at the head of a table which creaked under the weight of an enormous feast. In a marked departure from tradition for a female monarch, Elena was dressed in full ceremonial armour.

"I detest wearing gowns," she informed Arthur and Gwen matter-of-factly, leaning over the table to serve herself more wine. "So impractical!"

Gwen nodded her agreement. "I can't believe how heavy some of my new dresses are."

"But you wear them so well," Arthur chimed in with a loving look and squeeze of her hand.

"Let us toast to that." Elena raised her goblet and took a hearty swig. "How are you finding royal life, Guinevere?"

"Oh very pleasant, but so far it's all been feasts and celebrations. I expect harder work awaits us upon our return."

"I'm sorry I couldn't attend your wedding. Things in Gawant have been so hectic since my father passed. Tell me, how were the celebrations?"

As Gwen chatted with Elena about the ins and outs of wedding planning, Arthur's attention drifted down the table where Hunith, mother of Camelot's Court Sorcerer Merlin, was finishing up a story.

Arthur had heard this particular tale before. Merlin, at just four years old, had climbed a tree that stood on the outskirts of his village Ealdor, intending to cut some branches for a game of make-believe with his childhood friend Will. Too small to reach the branch he wanted, he had tried to use his magic to do so and accidentally sent the whole tree toppling over - directly onto another villager's home.

"-right on the roof of poor old Simmons, and Merlin broke his arm in the process too!"

Merlin caught Arthur's eye as a raucous laugh rippled down the table. "Simmons never did trust me after that."

The feast passed pleasantly, but when the dancing began the Camelot contingent were swift to excuse themselves. Arthur and Gwen had been married only three weeks when the invitation to Elena's coronation had arrived and were eager to return to their kingdom as soon as possible.

"Your mother looks happy," Gwen said to Merlin as they departed the dining hall with Elyan and Percival in tow. Hunith was being twirled on the dancefloor by one of Elena's knights. "How long do you think she'll stay in Gawant?"

Since the legalisation of magic, Hunith had dedicated her time to assisting with the education of Camelot's Druid children, providing a space where all magical youth could learn to harness their power responsibly. On Queen Elena's request she had come to Gawant to replicate the set-up.

"Until Samhain, all being well."

"I'm sure you'll be glad to have a break from the tree-felling story for a little while," Arthur chimed in. "That must be the third time I've heard it."

Merlin smiled indulgently. "Well, she never had anyone but me to share it with before."

The next day they set off before the sun had fully risen.

"We could have taken Kilgharrah," Merlin grumbled at the early hour. "We would have been here and back within a day, and had a lie-in too."

"Not with your track record."

A recent incident where Merlin, sick with a fever, had fallen from the dragon mid-flight was still far too fresh in Arthur's memory for the king to have allowed such a thing. That and he had never really trusted flight as a safe method of transportation...

They pushed the horses hard and by lunchtime had crossed over into Camelot's border. They had only one scheduled stop in their journey, in a small clearing where they could feed and water the horses.

Arthur frowned when he saw Merlin grab the feed bags.

"That's not your job any more."

"Well I know that, but she doesn't." Merlin proffered a handful of oats to Arthur's mare, who munched upon it happily. "Llamrei's used to a certain standard of care."

"Why did you become such a good servant the instant I made you a noble?"

Arthur never heard Merlin's reply, for just then a crossbow bolt zipped past his nose and landed with a sickening thunk in the flank of Percival's horse. The poor creature reared upon its hind legs with a pained whinny and, as it fell, its dying screams spooked the other horses. Merlin tightened his hold on Llamrei's reins and Elyan had not yet dismounted his own steed, but the other two horses galloped into the forest before anyone could stop them.

More crossbow bolts followed the first, but a swift spell from Merlin made them drop in mid-air.

"Go, take the others into the trees. I can hold them off."

"Even if that weren't a terrible and needlessly self-sacrificing idea," Arthur drawled, pulling his sword from its sheath. "We've only got two horses."

A wave of men flooded from the forest and into the clearing. They weren't bandits, Arthur realised as they approached, but mercenaries; someone from the Camelot council must have leaked their route. Merlin's eyes glowed and the forest around them came to life. The clearing swiftly filled with the panicked shrieks of men who were suddenly upended by the movement of the roots beneath them or knocked off their feet by branches from above.

"Sir Elyan, Sir Percival - protect the Queen," Arthur ordered his men. "One of you take her on Llamrei while the other rides behind. Be sure you aren't followed."

Gwen bristled at her husband's command. "Not without you and Merlin."

"I'm sorry Guinevere." He was sorry too. Sorry that she had barely been queen a month, and already she would be forced to step into the role without his guidance. "I swear that Merlin and I will follow as soon as we can, but Camelot cannot be without a ruler."

"But I could-"

"Please, Guinevere." Arthur took her hand and squeezed it. "It's your duty."

"Alright," she conceded, eyes glistening. "But just don't do anything stupid."

"That's usually more Merlin's forte than mine."

"Hey!"

Gwen managed a watery smile, then turned to mount Llamrei. Soon she, Percival and Elyan had thundered from view.

Arthur turned to Merlin. "Any bright ideas for how we get out of this?"

"One. Forbearne."

This was one of the few words of the Old Religion Arthur recognised, the one Merlin used to light fires on cold winter's evenings. Evidently the spell had greater potential than just this, for a tower of flame bigger than any of Uther's pyres shot from Merlin's hands and set the forest clearing alight.

The mercenaries who were not instantly burnt alive started to retreat. All but one, that was, who had taken Merlin's momentary distraction to level his crossbow.

"Look out!"

Arthur leapt at Merlin and searing pain exploded in his gut.

Through a haze of agony he registered the forest floor beneath him. Somewhere above Merlin bellowed - "Ic þé wiþdrífe!" - and then the warlock was knelt at his side.

"What did you do that for?!"

If doing so wouldn't have tugged at his already tender abdomen, Arthur might have laughed at his friend's indignant tone. "Next time I'll just let you get shot, shall I?"

"Yes, yes, you're very brave and heroic." Merlin peered anxiously to the clearing around them. The air was swiftly filling with smoke. "Can you stand?"

Arthur nodded, but as Merlin helped pull him up his vision swam.

"Arthur?" Merlin's voice was edged with panic. "Arthur!"

Regretfully, he let the darkness take him.