Perhaps a large group of men was overselling what Arthur was seeing in front of him, as the door slammed shut behind him to seal Merlin away inside of the protective shell. Oh, there was a group of men standing in front of him, but the group consisted of only three men. Each one seemed to be a peasant that grew their stances straighter when they saw him exit, each one held onto their own squat little candlestick. The brightly glow of the embers seemed to flicker-lightning up their features to make it look as if they were grotesque monsters-as if it was tasting the very air itself to determine rather or not this was a good place to be lit up at.

"What are you doing here? What right do you have to be here during a moment of crisis?" Arthur immediately demanded, as he got on the defensive, planting himself in front of the door to keep any of the men from trying to enter without permission. It was unclear rather or not the men meant any harm but Arthur was not in any mood to take chances, and the prince rolled his shoulders back in preparation for a fight. It didn't matter rather or not he held any weapons on his person-he didn't-because it was a fairly good bet that Arthur would be able to take on each and every one of these men with simple hand to hand combat. As long as they really were the simple peasant men they were portraying, they could be Mercia knights in disguise for all the prince knew, trying to sneak into his consort's healing room to finish the job for the king after having escaped the crusade his father was heading. "This is Consort Merlin's Healing Quarters and I will not have his privacy being tainted with people trying to gawk at him when he is in no fit state to entertain. I am sure since you found your way here, you can find your way back to your homes."

Arthur's strict tone brokered no room for argument, the ice in his narrowed eyes stronger than a tundra, gritting his teeth for preparation in case of a sudden attack. But these peasants felt less like Mercia's cruel grip trying to plant Camelot underneath its thumb, and more like bumbling oaf's, when two of the men pushed the much larger one standing in the center forward. It made Arthur's eyes narrow into even sharper slips, and trying to figure out rather or not this man had a knife hidden in some place on his person. Perhaps it would have been dipped in the same poison that had befallen his consort…just because these men acted like oaf's didn't mean they weren't actually the best of skilled actors. Mercia had to be full of them, to get this far in the city before his consort had discovered their plans. But that was when the middle man held his candle up a bit higher…he'd know that face anywhere. After all, the man looked exactly like his young daughter.

"So it's true then. I heard the news as it came straight from the castle itself, and I couldn't quite believe it. I didn't want to hear of it. But I knew it had to be true…Consort Merlin would be the only one brave enough to do something like this." Tom, the one and only father to Guinevere, the man Arthur had once went to question because of his unnatural healing with the plague that tried taking their kingdom off the map, spoke in a soft whisper that betrayed the gentle soul in the giant body. And the man, a Camelot blacksmith, bowed his head down before the Camelot prince, "I am truly sorry for what you and your family is going through, My Prince. If there is anything I could do to ease any of the pain that this might be causing you…"

Arthur's tense stance had relaxed only somewhat…though he was still prepared to jump into the fray at a moment's notice if the situation called for it. He could concede that these men-as loyal to Camelot as they were-were not a threat. But it did not mean these men standing outside his consort's door was not a sight to behold…they were making a scene by just being out in the hall like this. Arthur might be powerless to stop the poison that pumped through his consort's veins, unable to scrub that vileness from his veins until there was nothing left but the red smoothness of his own blood…but he could at least protect his consort from being made a spectacle once again.

"Do none of you have any respect for my consort? He needs to have time to rest and heal from his ordeal. Which is impossible if there is people hanging around outside his door. Nothing will be happening here anytime soon, and he won't be awake till he has been administered the antidote. So I suggest you take the men you have brought with you, and leave." Arthur said strictly and daring these men with the look in his eyes alone, to give a good reason for Arthur to fight them. Pathetic it was, to fight a bunch of peasants. But Arthur wanted to hit something, and he was not entirely picky about what that was at the moment. "As my consort quite liked his privacy, my family asks that this be a family moment. You can all have your time to find out what has gone on when my father gives an official statement later. I can assure you, my consort won't be answering any questions any time soon."

Or never, Arthur privately finished in his head, assuming that these men were just the bottom feeders that they looked to be as. Just people who liked having their five minutes of fame and notice by being the ones to feed the next piece of information to the gossip fodder. Arthur was a little confused as to how the news of what happened had already spread-but maybe it was not too hard to discern. Some of the servants had most likely spread the news as soon as they were released from the room after Arthur left the doors open behind him. And Arthur racing through the castle like a madman with Merlin thrown along his shoulders would've only proven things-but nobody was going to be passing on Merlin's personal information or the status of his health until he was fully in recovery mode. There would be no telling what the news-Merlin dying or living-would do with the political climate of Camelot's delicate system. It was best to keep everything under wraps from the greater public until it was all settled. Besides…Arthur didn't quite know rather or not it was true that his consort liked his privacy-he had made it up on the spot, but god, how did he not even know something like that-but he could at least assume Merlin wouldn't want any of these people coming in to stare at him like he was nothing but an animal being held in some kind of exhibit somewhere.

…Arthur wouldn't be comfortable with strange people walking in and out as they pleased anyway. The healing rooms was at least the one place people should remain respectful enough to keep their distance from in the coming days.

"An antidote being delivered? So, then does this mean Consort Merlin is going to live?" Tom asked, the hope streaming out of his voice almost made him seem like a puppy. But Tom must've seen a slight flickering across Arthur's face in the shared light of the candle-Arthur could be desperate to make it true, but it would do very little if the poison proved to be too much for his consort to take-because his shoulders dropped. A dishearten, "Oh." escaping from his lips. There was a moment of silence, a show of respect in these troubled times, before Tom bowed his head again, "Let me say again, my prince. Consort Merlin is one of a kind, and I truly hope that he pulls through this horrid ordeal. It is why my friends and I have decided to come here tonight. I know that it is a bit unorthodox because your consort is not dead., but the guys and I wanted to show Consort Merlin our support and our hope that he can still recover swiftly from this. We even made sure to bring candles, not to light the way for the spirit to make its way to the afterlife, but as a way for Consort Merlin to make the journey back home."

Tom held out his candle to Arthur, allowing him to take notice of it clearly for the first time…it was only because of what Tom said, did Arthur realize the men were not using these candles as a simple light source through the darkness of the kingdom's night. Candles were important fixtures during times of distress and mourning…when somebody died, it wasn't strange to find a candle being lit in their honor. It was superstitious nonsense as far as Arthur was concerned, that the light of the candle is used by the ghost of the departed to find their way to where it was they would spend eternity at. But many people considered the trend to be quite comforting…a sign of respect towards the dearly departed. And the more candles lit, the more known the person was…or the most loved…or most acknowledged…or for just how plain sorrowful their tragic story had ended.

"Why…" Arthur asked slowly, his voice coming out gruffer and raw…as if he was trying in vain to hold back his screaming. But the glow of the candle, its light so mesmerizing that he found he could not take his eyes off of it…three little candles being lit for Merlin. It reminded him so much of the boy, that there was a renewed ache in his chest that could've crippled him…Merlin had once been just like this candle. So strong and bright, easy to light the way with the glow of his smile and the twinkle in his eyes…but candles and Merlin's were so easy to snuff out. They both had a fragility to them that somebody should've warned Arthur about…it was so hard to light the wick of a candle after it had already been burned out. Impossible, one might say…he didn't want Merlin to be the same way. Impossible to light up a fuse that should be strong enough to shock an entire nation in its place, "Why are you doing this for my consort? This act has been premature. I can assure you the only information you will get is that my consort still breathe. Do you not know what the candles represent? You take your lights and go."

Arthur had to fight the burst of rage trying to control him…the only thing he wanted to do was smack that candle from Tom's hand until the light was gone completely. But…would that have been a bad omen? A sign that Merlin would never wake up, or a sign that he would not be back to the man he was before the prince had tainted him. These type of candles were meant only for the dead. Not for somebody who was still hanging onto life by the grace of god himself. Tom might as well have said that Merlin was already gone! That Merlin was dead and buried and Arthur had failed in his mission before he even truly had a real chance to get started. There was still time, Arthur hadn't failed in anything. The candles were pushing Arthur into what could only be described as a near breaking point…the careful rein of control Arthur had been holding onto since he stepped outside of Merlin's room teetering down to nothing.

"Of course, sire. I should have anticipated that you would not wish to see our prayer vigil. It must be far more difficult for you most of all, to see your consort in such a state." Tom said, and bringing a hand up to cup around the little flickering flame, as if he was trying to hide the glow Arthur could see still shining in between his fingers. "I apologize for disturbing you during a difficult time. It's only…" Tom stopped and licked his lips before continuing again. "This is only a small thing I could do to show Consort Merlin my support and loyalty. My daughter, you see…she only still breaths because Consort Merlin risked his own to make it so. I would be alone, if it were not for him. And I've told the story to anybody who would listen to me…of the brave and bold Consort who saw the truth in place of lies and sought out justice. Of the Consort who stood against a king-my apologies if that insults you, my prince-to save a simple servant when he had no gain or reason to do so other than it being right. I have met with several people who believe your consort gives hope to all of us…hope for our future. But my friends seem to be the only ones willing to show such loyalty to your consort publicly. It's quite a controversial topic….your Consort. But I do wish for you to know, even if we aren't here, we will keep praying to see your consort out and about again soon."

Arthur could feel the return of that sour tang building onto the back of his tongue as Tom and his two companions bowed as they were backing away from him, to return to wherever their homes were. A prayer vigil…Arthur thought, as his eyes started to linger on those candles again…it was such a horrid concept in the moment. But…perhaps these men were not one of those low life bottom feeders Arthur had assumed they were to be…it was practically an expectation for a noble to have the glow of candles following them onward. Why should Merlin be any different…besides, Tom had a personal reason for wanting to see Merlin healed. He wasn't here trying to seek out any bit of information he could get for the masses…he was here because Merlin had made a mark on him. Albeit a different one than the mark he had made on Arthur, but…a mark nonetheless.

And remembering the actions of what people have done with another in mind…was quite a powerful thing.

"Wait!" Arthur called out to the group of men before they were able to leave the hall, and all three of them stalled where they stood. He was positive that he was going to regret this kind of mercy, positive he was going to want to slit his own throat if he was wrong about this. But then men…they were actually doing something Arthur would not have thought to do in a million and one years. Doing something Arthur would have scorned not all that long ago…because his consort had made an impact in the short time he had been here. "…I will allow for you to have your moment of prayer. But make it short and fast. You will not even for a second, try to get a peek of what is going on inside. I will not even hear that you tried to get inside after I have given you my warning-" because Arthur's protectiveness would only be willing to stretch so far. "Is that understood? Because I won't hesitate for each of you to be arrested if I catch wind of you trying. And trust me now-" Arthur lowered his voice into this threatening growl meant to instill the fear of god himself into these men. "I will find out if you have broken the trust I am now putting in you."

Maybe this was going against every instinct Arthur had to keep Merlin safe, he could hardly be safe if a group of men hovered at his door. But the men looked so pleased to have permission to return to their prayer vigil, and these men were going out of their way for Merlin when Arthur couldn't have been bothered to realize something was wrong before all of this. Arthur found himself almost questioning every decision he was making, and wondering how something like this was going to affect Merlin or if he was truly making the right choice…but Arthur watched for a brief second as the men settled their three little candles against the wall across from the door. A sign that they'd been there, a sign that Merlin hadn't been alone during this tragedy …

Was three little candles really all Merlin's life was worth. A boy who had lived for nineteen years, who had risen from being the peasant boy to The Consort, within moments…Arthur felt as if he should have far more than that. He should have the entirety of the courtyard and marketplace and everywhere in between overcrowded with people. Each one carrying their own candle between their hands, letting Merlin know that they were going to be with him.

Arthur swallowed the bile threatening to come out of him, and made a hasty retreat. Leaving the men to what they were now doing.

X

Nimueh cracked the reins against the white horse she spelled to wait for her on the far side of the castle. The horse galloped faster, the wind blowing the strands of dark hair that flowed in freedom around her face…she was moving easier through the city than she had thought she would. The streets being all but deserted as the news of the tragedy that had befallen Camelot started to spread. People too scared to leave their homes with the kingdom possibly being on the brick of war…only two lone knights stood guard at Camelot's great western gate. The gate was still open, as she knew it would be, the knights waiting for orders from Uther that would determine if the kingdom would be going into lockdown due to these unfortunate events.

She rode through the gates as if it was only a petty obstacle in the way of her escape, the guards calling after her to demand who she was and what business she had leaving the city at the moment. But Nimueh had came out of nowhere too fast, she'd been gone even faster…and the powerful priestess flashed this wicked smile-one that looked more like fangs than the normal bluntness of human teeth-as she glanced over her shoulder to get one last glance of the glistening, towering spirals that were looming out of Camelot Castle. Where she knew her True God would be resting until his prince saved him…

Soon, my precious God, Nimueh thought as she turned back to face ahead of her so she could guide her horse through all the trees…soon, we will be together. It was a dark promise she felt caressing all over her skin, the strange phantom ache of magic trying to reach out to grasp the fading wisps of gold escaping her the further and further away she got from Camelot. It left Nimueh with nothing more than the memory of what may have been…or what might soon be. Because soon, thought Nimueh as she directed her horse towards the caves with this dark and widening grin…soon, her young God would be a widow.

And then nothing would ever separate the two of them again…

X

"My Lady, I am so sorry I haven't been here to attend to you, or help you undress properly for bed." Were the first words the young handmaiden Gwen exclaimed the second she had came bursting into Morgana's chambers, a hand holding up her long deep yellow peasant dress to stop herself from tripping in the material. Morgana appeared to be sitting at her vanity, and the handmaiden felt a wave of guilt going through her-not even in times of mourning or distress, was it considered appropriate to have a servant just disappear on her mistress like she had with Morgana. If her mistress (her friend) wasn't so kind, she would have been flogged for leaving the way she had-when she saw Morgana had already started undoing the hair pins Gwen had carefully fashioned into place at the start of the evening. She shook her head, barely noticing that Morgana looked startled to even see her there, and strode forward, "Please, allow me to get these out for you, m'lady. There are many pins and there's some that require you to pull it just right, or you'll risk pulling out a few strands of hair."

To most noble women, having a few strands being pulled out could have been seen as a fate worse than death. A sign that they were not being taken care of properly, but Gwen's hands were shaking so much, she could barely even get her hands to grasp onto one of the pins-Morgana had only managed to free a single lock so that it fell freely around the curve of her face-and she was scared she would do much more to Morgana and her curls than yanking out a few strands. But Gwen didn't have to do anything, as Morgana placed a hand on top of her to get her to stop. Gwen's throat tightened as the lock of hair flowed free from her fingers, and back into its place against her lady's head.

"You don't have to worry about me, I'm more worried about you right now. I honestly did not expect you to come. I know you and Merlin have a strong bond." said Morgana, squeezing Gwen's cold fingers between her own, trying to offer Gwen a bit of comfort. And Gwen squeezed her eyes shut…she hadn't expected to be here tonight either. But somewhere between her tending to Merlin and Gaius mumbling under his breath to try different potions that could at least ease some of the pain he was going through, came the fleeting thought of Morgana and what she was supposed to be doing. Gaius had ushered her out of the room, where she had nearly tripped over three candles in front of the door, telling her there was very little she could do to help at the moment. So she might as well return to them after her normal work was over…but Gwen was just plain grateful to have a mistress that was as kind and understanding as Morgana was. Especially since the lady looked as if she was also barely holding things together herself…but Lady Morgana had been trained to hide her emotions from an early age. She would not break as easily as Gwen was. "But I've been waiting for any scrap of news I can hear about what's going on. I have been worrying myself sick, this not knowing. I wanted to come as soon as the knights escorted Mercia to the cells and finally allowed the rest of us out once the castle was deemed safe. I was worried I would only crowd up the space though…I didn't want to be in the way and cause problems if Merlin's needs are serious."

Gwen cracked a weak hearted grin, though there was nothing at all funny about their situation…it was still amusing that the Lady was worried about something as simple as overcrowding the room. Morgana had enough power to demand entrance in the healing chambers, and considered close enough amongst the Pendragon family that she could've acted on their behalf and ask questions or be consulted on which treatment plans they should go with…if there had been more than one option. And with that reminder, Gwen's smile dropped completely into a more stricken expression. The kind of expression that spoke volumes, screaming that nothing was going to be okay.

"Merlin still breaths." Gwen announced, but her voice sounded detached, and did nothing to help alleviate Morgana's worries, as her servant went into detail about how weak Merlin seemed from his lack of food and how there was a good chance he was not going to survive. And with each word growing more and more heartbreaking than the last, Morgana could feel her body swelling with a mixture of sorrow and anger both, as she rose from her chair so she and Gwen could stand together, clasped hands being the only thing connecting them still. The two girls were so different, like night and day, and yet they were just the same. A peasant and a noble. A commoner and a lady. A dark raven and a wilting flower. But both girls held hearts that seem to be beating as one, joined in their anguish for the one person that should've been standing there as well. "-And Arthur…he said he was going to get the flower needed for the antidote to work. But I really don't know how much I trust him to keep his word. If he does bring it back on time, then Gaius seems fairly confident Merlin will live. But the outcome doesn't seem likely to end favorably if he changes his mind and decides Merlin is not worth this."

Morgana felt as if she already knew the choice Arthur would make, if he hadn't made it already, and felt her fingers clamp stronger around Gwen's. Needing the touch to keep herself grounded as the light flush of rage came across her cheeks…it was not hard for Morgana to imagine Arthur deciding only at the last minute to not go. She was honestly surprised Arthur had even said he would go, and not something dismissive and non-communal like 'I'll send a couple of my knights out when I can spare some.' Because this was honestly the worse kind of outcome that could've happened…an all hands on deck kind of situation. It wouldn't be long before the queen of Mercia heard her husband and their entourage of knights and servants were now resting in Camelot's cells. A stage of attack would happen soon enough in an attempt to free them, the roar of an endless battle cry as Mercia tried invading Camelot. King Uther would probably be already planning counter attacks and increasing a boarder control or putting a patrol system in place to be sure nobody from Mercia tried sneaking in. Morgana didn't have the patience that Merlin did…she had only fought with the prince a handful of times, and already she knew what he would do.

Turn his back on Merlin, and not bother mentioning to the King at all, that he could still be saved.

But she could hardly tell Gwen that. Not when it looked as if a one more devastating bit of news would be enough to shatter Gwen completely.

"Don't worry, Gwen. Everything is going to be fine. Arthur will do what he must, and he will get that flower and everything is only going to look like something we can laugh about when we are sitting here in a week's time. When everything doesn't look so dire." Morgana said, stepping forward and engulfing the girl into a much needed hug. Gwen sounded as if she was trying to protest against the skin of Morgana's neck where she seemed to have burrowed her face in. But Morgana only held onto her tighter, lowering her face so she could breathe in the soap her handmaiden used to wash her hair. It wasn't very often the two touched like this, and Morgana was grateful for the moment of peace when Gwen relaxed against her, wrapping her arms in a tight brand around Morgana's middle. "Besides," Morgana was continuing, her soft voice barely a whisper against the curls as they tried escaping Gwen's ponytail. "Merlin is already such a strong fighter. He needs to be, to have lived married to Arthur for so long. I bet he doesn't even really need this flower at all…perhaps we can be strong for him tonight. And tell him about all the funny faces he made when he was unconscious after he wakes up. Yeah?"

Morgana nearly sagged in relief when she heard the soft, cute chuckle against the curve of her neck. But she wondered if the other girl knew Morgana was lying straight through her teeth…or if she had decided to blindly follow with Morgana's hopeful optimism. Was she just playing along with the game, trying to make this time seem less scary than it was? Or would she end up upset with Morgana, when her claims proved to be nothing but a falsehood. Because eventually, next week would come to pass. And it was very likely that Merlin wouldn't be sitting with them in this room, giggling and playing as they threw little bits of small food at each other to keep the liveliness. It was very likely though, that Morgana and Gwen would be buckled down in these chambers, huddled together and clutching hands with the other. The armed guards standing at the door to keep their safety priority doing absolutely nothing to drown out the harsh cries and drumming sounds of war rising out of the streets as Blue and Red knights slaughtered the other, needless about all of the civilians caught in the crossfire.

After a time had passed, though it could've been an eternity to Morgana, she felt her handmaiden starting to move. And Gwen said something, but her voice was muffled against the collar of Morgana's dress, and Morgana squeezed her eyes shut when she felt a wetness on her shoulder…her dress was wet. Gwen had shed tears because of this…and though Morgana felt her teeth gash together as this deep dark hatred for Arthur started carving itself into her ribcage with the fury of a thousand suns, her voice was decidedly light as she hummed. And her hands were even more gentle, as she ran it soothingly down the small length of Gwen's little ponytail.

"You said that Arthur was going to get the flower, so then that means you trust him to go through with this plan, right?" Gwen asked her softly, after moving her head slightly so that she had her forehead pressed against the pulse of Morgana's neck and not her mouth. Morgana's face tightened, not knowing if she'd be able to lie to Gwen all over again…she had absolutely not a single ounce of faith in Arthur doing this. If war really was soon to be on their doorstep, Arthur would easily decide his place to be here. Fighting on the frontlines instead of being someplace else when the first wave of attacks started. But at least Gwen couldn't see her face, at least Gwen wouldn't know Morgana was already preparing herself for a Royal Funeral in only a few days time…if they would even honor Merlin with a funeral. And not 'forget' about it with the war going on. "But how could you trust him so easily? After everything he's done to hurt Merlin…after knowing the only reason Merlin's not strong enough to be fighting the poison is because of what Arthur's done to him…I sometimes think Arthur only married Merlin to hurt him-" Gwen said this in a softer whisper, as if she was admitting some kind of grievous sin for admitting this thought out loud. "So I don't understand why you are so confident about everything coming together in the end…"

And Morgana was acutely aware of the one secret she carried with Merlin that Gwen wasn't privy too…the contract that had started all of this. Like most people in the castle, Gwen didn't know what had been going on behind the scenes as the bells of Arthur and Merlin's wedding news echoed throughout the entire kingdom. Her mouth filled with saliva, itching to scream to Gwen that the marriage-something she was sure Gwen may already know, but had never spoken out of place about it-that the marriage was also a falsehood. But she didn't, swallowing the building salvia down, and she didn't know why. It was most definitely not to protect Arthur, he could rot in hell and have no choice than to be tortured for centuries to come for what he's done to Merlin. But maybe this was just Morgana trying to pull herself together in an impossible situation…was it not better to have people think Merlin died a fool in love with the very wrong man? Instead of being held here like a prisoner against his own will…

Which fate would be worse?

And would Morgana-after Merlin was gone-ever be able to talk and speak out loud about the true story of Merlin? Was there a chance-someday-that she could have ballads made for Merlin in his honor. True stories being sung about the tragedy of what his life was, about the hope he had given to only the select few people who saw him for the real him. About the friendship he'd been willing to offer, while accepting whatever little given back to him in return. Ballads that should be spread along the entire kingdom, of the boy trapped by a fate he never wanted. Who'd tried making the best of his situation, and tried to become one with the kingdom by saving them time and time again…until his story ended with the Peasant turned Consort drinking death to save the Princely Lover who Hated Him from the first meeting.

"Oh, Gwen. Do you really not see why I am so confident in him coming back with the cure? Do you really not see why I know it is a certainty that he will be back before we know it?" Morgana continued in a soft voice, banishing her earlier thoughts out of mind as she returned to comforting Gwen. And gently tugging her hand loose from a particularly stubborn curl trying pretty damn hard to keep her from escaping. "It's because if he does not return, if he does not leave, if Merlin dies because of this…then I fear that I might kill him myself. Arthur has seen me mad at him before Gwen, not even all that long ago-" as she vividly remembered the way she had came at Arthur after seeing the bruises on Merlin for the first time, "But he has not seen me as mad as I am now."

Perhaps Gwen only thought she was joking, her voice sounded decidedly light still, could be a cleaver illusion to hide just how displeased she was, because the girl only sighed against her skin and leaned further in against her. Morgana tightened her grip, tugging Gwen so close it felt as if the two of them could have been melded together as one. But Morgana stared off in some random space on the wall above her bed, her lips going a bloodless white from how hard she pressed them together…she knew she wasn't joking. And she wasn't lying. The spike of hot anger rushing through her bloodstream telling her Merlin'd appreciate Arthur's head on a pike a lot more than he would've enjoyed a few meaningless ballads. Perhaps she could set the pike wherever Merlin's grave was-as she doubted Uther would allow him to rest in the family crypt-so that the blood sliding a slow trail down the pole could mold with the grave dirt making up Merlin's final resting place. So that Arthur's sightless eyes could stare fixedly ahead, knowing Merlin was the reason he'd ended up there, until his skin started to rot and the crows had came to peck out his eyes.

A fitting end for the Traitor Prince, indeed.

Maybe not today, and maybe not tomorrow, but mark her word, she would come after Arthur Pendragon if Merlin did not live to see past this ordeal…

"Maybe you should go and be with him. There's no telling just how much or how little time he has left with us." Morgana said softly, loosening her grip around Gwen's shoulders, giving the girl a little pat until Gwen finally lifted her head up, frowning at Morgana. Morgana's smile was strained, but she kept her smile up anyway, "You should make every second with him count. So be there…for the both of us. Okay? Let him know that he won't have to face what's happening on his own."

And while Gwen was gone. Morgana could think a bit more seriously how she was going to kill Arthur in a way that was not going to get her caught. Uther might care for her, but he would not abide standing back and letting Arthur's killer walk free instead of having her put onto the execution's chopping block. She could only imagine what the prince was doing this very moment, while his consort lay suffering off by himself on the sidelines. Probably pandering to his father, trying to come up with some plan that could get Mercia off their back with the least people losing their lives…showing more care for the men who might die in battle than he did with Merlin, who'd already done the same. Oh, Merlin might not have been carrying with him a sword, but you couldn't begin to tell Morgana that the boy hadn't gone down with the bravery any knight within their guard should carry with them.

"Why don't you come with me!" Gwen suddenly asked, with a hopeful expression crossing her once grim face as she took a step back out of Morgana's arms completely. Morgana looked startled by this, she honestly hadn't expected to receive such an invitation. A Lady was not meant to spend her time trying to hover about the healing quarters, but then again…since when did Morgana bother to listen to such archaic rules. "I know that Merlin is just as important to you as he is to me. It's only right that you be there as well. And I know there isn't much going on right now, and Merlin probably won't know, but he'll appreciate you just being there."

But still, Morgana hesitated…she wasn't exactly like Gwen. The other woman had gentle hands, and a kinder heart, and could be counted on to help in however way she could. And Morgana really did want to go…she could feel her heart screaming in her chest to be there for Merlin. To do something that showed she cared, and wasn't just another Arthur, who wasn't going to be bothered to do the bare minimum. But she also didn't want to cause problems for Merlin, or taint his memory even more than what was already thought of him. She knew how these things worked, and she knew very few people would believe the word of a woman…Gwen got a free pass because she was a servant and she could be seen as simply being Gaius' assistant for this ordeal. Morgana was a little more…complicated than that.

"That might not be for the best. Merlin isn't my husband and he isn't my family. It might be deemed inappropriate for me to spend so much time with him someplace that is intimate like a healing room is." Morgana explained, with a detached voice to remind her of the complicated role she had in society. Uther'd may have raised her alongside Arthur, and Morgana might like to joke that Merlin was her new brother, but that didn't mean it was actually true. There was no blood between them. Morgana might allow Merlin into her bedchambers back when they were having their daily lunches and impromptu lessons, and there's some that would say that was even more intimate. But the lady couldn't help but feel the opposite…there had always been this guard standing outside the door, listening for any sounds that might indicate something inappropriate was happening. While Morgana knew Merlin was gay and would have no interest with her like that, very few people would care if the lies they tried to spread sounded more interesting. And then something like this would probably only lay fuel for the fire, and make the rumors about Merlin sleeping around even more credible. If he could make a woman with 'delicate sensibilities' as all women should have, brave it enough to stand with him when he was looking his worse. "It might be better for me to stay here. And visit in the morning during more appropriate hours. With an escort as a witness to show I'm not reacting like a lover about to lose her husband."

It made Morgana feel sick, her throat closing, at the tight and suffering confinement that was royal life. Morgana had never had somebody that she would have been close enough to visit when they were on death's door. Perhaps Gwen, but she'd had never made it out of the castle if she said she wanted to check on how her serving girl was doing. And plenty of people would have denied her, terrified she might come down with whatever plagued the serving girl, even if her sickness didn't necessary mean death. But the Royal Family had always held themselves up to certain standards, they couldn't be seen as weak or as if they cared about somebody more than they cared for another person, for fear it might be seen as favoritism. Perhaps she'd get away with visiting Uther or Arthur, but those two were the pinnacle of health. Morgana couldn't remember the last time Uther had taken ill or been injured. And Arthur's seemed to be contacting only surface wounds at best, never anything to be worked up about.

"But Merlin is the consort, and perhaps it could be spun as you welcoming him into the family? I know you said you don't have the blood of the Pendragon's, but nobody actually sees you as less than the royal family. You've been with them for so many years." Gwen said, trying to be helpful, when Morgana bitterly explained her reasons for staying away. "And besides, did you forget that Gaius would be there as well. He could be a good witness to show there isn't anything wrong with what you have with Merlin. He's your friend too. And like you said-" Gwen let her voice go more solemn, softer. "We don't really know how much time Merlin has left. Won't you regret it if…if something really does go wrong?"

Morgana only hesitated for a moment, but she knew the other girl was right. She really would regret not being there to hold onto Merlin's hand as he breathed his last…being there so he wouldn't have to be alone. It was more than Arthur had done their entire marriage…and yes. She had forgotten that Gaius'd be right there in the room the entire time. Sure, it was late and it was wrong for a lady of her station to be out wondering the halls. But had she not already done that, when she and Merlin had been stalking the halls last month to try sneaking into the prince's bed chambers-something that would probably be this treasured memory of her and Merlin, remembering the talk the two of them had shared when they hid away in that alcove.

If only they had a chance to have more talks like that.

If only they had a chance for their friendship to go.

If Arthur wasn't such a coward, forever afraid of disappointing his father that he would let another die in some self-imposed quest to prove himself as the best…

Morgana smiled-brittle and sad-before reaching out a hand to grasp Gwen's in her own. And as the two girls headed outside of the chambers, Gwen quietly started informing Morgana on everything she had missed in more details. Facts that included her embarrassing scene of yelling at Arthur-which had startled a surprised bark of laughter from Morgana, and a quip on how she wished she could've seen his face. And then this baffled raise of Morgana's eyebrow when Gwen explained how Arthur had actually apologized to her before leaving. It didn't really fix anything, but…Arthur apologizing to a servant was absolutely shocking to the core.

If only the two girls knew what Arthur was doing right now…the shock would have continued until it molded deeply inside their bones…

X

Arthur Pendragon was racing down the Red Ribbon Corridor as fast as his legs could carry him-though don't ask him why one of their main corridors had been given such an obsolete name, as well as one that didn't make sense, since this corridor was no more red than any other, and definitely had no ribbons-in a pursuit to catch up to his father. The prince was already battle ready, he didn't think he had ever gotten dressed in his armor as fast as he had before in his life. Though it had still taken far longer than he wished it had, having to twist his body around in awkward positions to make sure all the buckles were closed and locked in. He hadn't wanted to waste precious time trying to track down Morris, so doing it himself had been a far better option…he held onto a small semblance of peace now that his sword was strapped against his side. A sword meant there was going to be a fight soon…a fight meant there was something in front of him that he could slash…unfortunately, he didn't have the option to slash his own father. Who was making things far more difficult than Arthur had thought it would be…he figured Uther would have given him free rein to suggest a group of his most trusted knights to accompany him to the caves.

He hadn't expected for Uther to deny his request completely…

"What is the point of having people to taste your food for you, if you are going to go out there and get yourself killed anyway, Arthur." Uther said, with an unfair calmness about him-Arthur had caught him on his way to the war room, the place that his generals and advisors and councilmen would gather to discuss strategies and battle plans in times of crisis-and Arthur's bold request to leave the safety of the kingdom walls hadn't made the king stop walking. Leaving Arthur chasing him in order to keep up. "There's a reason that we have people who do this, it is to keep you from falling ill and denying this kingdom my one and only heir to my throne."

Arthur gritted down his teeth harshly…one would have thought the king would have been eager to send the prince out to get a flower…wouldn't that have completely sold the whole 'true love angel' he was always going on about? But Arthur had only just managed to explain why he wanted to take a small group of his most elite knights-he already had a few in mind…Leon, Markus could be good…possible that Dorian guy-before Uther closed off the discussion, dismissing Arthur without giving him a real reason as to why he shouldn't go. It wasn't as if his father had ever cared for his safety, he had been sent out on dozens and dozens of raids and missions and quests since he had turned eighteen. He'd been leading them since he had turned twenty summers six months ago. So Arthur didn't understand why he was being so difficult about this one particularly-and probably the most important mission Arthur had ever taken-mission.

"But Merlin isn't a taster, father. He had no business or right doing what he did. He's my consort. And if the food had been bettered monitored, if we had Camelot do a full check on the gifted goblets Bayard was giving us, then maybe my consort would not be fighting for his life right now. Tasters are at least trained and prepared for the fact that each meal they taste on our behalf could also be their last. Merlin didn't have that kind of expectations placed on him." Arthur argued vehemently, in a misguided attempt to change his father's refusal to help. Now, if only Arthur had looked in a mirror…perhaps he would realize he and his father had been cut from the same cloth. And both of them carried the legendary Pendragon stubbornness-which was a good thing, as it had helped carry this land through their many generations, but not so good because Arthur would have had better luck arguing with a brick wall. "I can assure you, my safety is absolute. There's nothing dangerous about this quest and I'll be back in a few days time. I won't fail, no matter what you seem to think."

Arthur could feel the red hot flush building on his face when his father didn't break his stride in walking away, and maybe he should have felt guilty for lying to his father and trying to do his best to make the mission sound as casual as possible. That prehistoric monster sketched along the pages of Gaius's book had certainly not looked as if it would rather cuddle than try to take a bite out of them. Hell, what Arthur was doing could also be considered downright dangerous…one should 'never' try to downplay a mission. Certain missions required certain levels of skill set to accomplish, one couldn't just send off the first man they saw. Uther might try and send him lesser knights who did not have the experience needed to go up against a beast who was as venomous as the poison Merlin had drunk. But he was also desperate to get anywhere with his father.

"Arthur, you are my only son and heir, I cannot risk losing you for the sake of some boy that shouldn't have even been here in the first place. If that blasted contract didn't exist, then the boy would not have been here. Perhaps this is just the work of the fates trying to correct some of my past mistakes." Said the king, waving his hand in a dismissive fashion. Arthur stalled in his step, mouth opening in shock as a bubble-full of outrage or disbelief?-started expanding in his throat. Unlike Arthur, who'd believed in things happening right in front of him, Uther always believed magic had its hand in everything. Though it was rare-never-that his father ever looked towards it in a favorable light. "But if it upsets you so much, perhaps we can send his mother a bit of gold for the inconvenience. Whatever the price is that we pay to the family members who had a taster that lost their lives in the line of duty, that should be enough, I am sure. I'm sure she could use the gold."

This time, Arthur nearly tripped over his feet completely in his horror…inconvenience? That was really what he was going to call Merlin…an inconvenience? His mother was going to get a sack of gold with a half hearted written note saying 'sorry for her loss' and he was just supposed to be okay with that? The prince hadn't once considered what Merlin's family would be thinking of all this-no family other than Gaius, that was-but all of this was too much. Uther had literally snorted as he finished off his sentence, as if Merlin's peasant mother-wherever and whoever she might be-who had raised his consort into the tiny terrifying terror Arthur had always thought him to be-needing a bit of gold was funny. It wasn't funny at all. Especially not as Arthur had his own mother in mind, making things feel like this was a personal attack against his own person. Not to mention, his father was right! Merlin would have never been here-but it was hard for Arthur to imagine how he would've survived these last few months if Merlin hadn't kept getting himself involved in everything-if the contract between them hadn't existed. But didn't that mean they should take even more responsibility for putting Merlin in such a dangerous position?

He would have never been in the line of fire if Bayard had not wanted to poison Arthur…

Arthur should have protected him better…

"You make it sound as if his life is worthless! Just a piece to be used and discarded when you are done with him!" The prince exclaimed in a loud tone, something that was incredibly unlike him when he was in front of his father. And Arthur was unable to escape the irony of his statement, he had considered Merlin the exact same way only earlier this night. But those words…it made Arthur remember so vividly of that one time when Merlin had came into his chambers-probably the first time Merlin had ever came into his chambers-and said he knew his word didn't count for anything because he was just a peasant. Those were the earlier days in their relationship, when Merlin had tried his hardest to convince Arthur that Valiant was a threat. He didn't like to think about it often, but those words had stayed forever with him, sometimes waking him in the dead of night like some kind of dark and foreboding whisper in his ear. Arthur was able to feel his breath hitching already, the memory of Merlin being so lively and so earnest, eyes so sincere…Arthur almost felt as if he could reach out and trace the soft lines and curves of his consort's face right now…Arthur bit down on his lip and shook the memory from his mind. Old memories weren't going to do anything to help him now, "Besides, how is one simple sack of gold supposed to help smooth things over? This is a life we're talking about. The life of a Consort, of a Royal…what shall our people think if they knew we just sat back and did nothing to help him heal? That is certainly not going to make people think our love story is real, if they don't see me doing everything I'm able to do to try saving him now!"

It was a good thing they were alone, or perhaps they'd have far more troubles ahead of them if people heard him saying things like 'make people think our love story is real.' But Arthur didn't care at the moment. Not when Merlin's life was being held with the hands of death placed firmly over his heart…nor did Arthur care that he was literally trying to manipulate his father at this very moment. Trying to use Uther's own agenda against him in order to get what Arthur wanted…permission to leave from this godforsaken castle. Besides…the back of Arthur's head gave a phantom throb with the memory of Merlin throwing the sack of golden coins he'd tried giving him that one time…if his mother was anything like the son she had raised, Arthur could almost imagine her showing up and causing a scene in front of every member of the court and city. So really, Arthur was trying to do his kingdom a great service by preventing such things. Surely his father could see the advantages of doing this outweighed anything else he could come up with…Arthur jerked to a stop to prevent himself from running into his father when the king finally stopped walking and turned to him.

"The people aren't going to know one thing about any of this, Prince Arthur." Uther said coldly, and the bubble that had been expanding in Arthur's throat seemed to grow, his eyes starting to narrow as he opened his mouth to ask how Uther was going to hide something like this, when the king answered him, "You are going to continue playing your role as a doting husband. I need you to return to your room and get off that armor, you're in mourning. Not going out to a fight. Stand by your consort's bedside in the healing chambers, do whatever you have to do to seal the act in case anybody walks in…hold his hand or play with his hair or whatever people do when somebody's going to die. And then when the time comes, all we have to do is act as if Gaius couldn't find anything about this 'flower' in time. Play it off, be ignorant. Or just claim it was too dangerous for you to accomplish, if that falls through. Nobody will ever know there was another way."

Arthur blinked rapidly, his mind whirling as if the call of a siren was ringing in his ears…surely he wasn't hearing things right…surely his father had not just suggested they…they…let Merlin die! It was one thing if they could truly do nothing, and Arthur would have to live with that guilt for the rest of his days. But a suggestion like this was something else entirely, something he could feel caused a roll of revulsion to go down his spine. That …there was a lot of things Arthur would do to make the king be pleased with him. But this was going a step too far, this would be something that would tear Arthur in two, carried within him till the day he died. Arthur couldn't live with that hanging over his head. He couldn't stand by Merlin's bedside, seeing Merlin being more helpless than a newborn baby, because at least a baby could scream if something was wrong, and then doing…absolutely nothing.

It was immortal.

It was wrong.

It was…Arthur couldn't get rid of this guilt already churning in him because of Merlin's suicide attempt, would Arthur have an ounce of strength left over if he was left standing over Merlin's cold corpse?

That would be all his fault…

He couldn't allow that to come to pass…

"And besides, you asked me if the boy's life if worthless? His life hasn't been. He's done his duty as well as can be expected considering his poor upbringing." Uther drawled out, he didn't really care much about how the boy had briefly impressed him before drinking the poison. How he had said 'not even for you, King Uther'. A curious thing he might be, but nothing the king valued wasting his time on. "But his life is worth far less than yours. And I will not send manpower and resources away from protecting our kingdom just for this. He might not have been a taster, but he knew full well what he was getting into. And now he must reap the consequences of his actions. Nobody will be particularly sad to see the boy go anyway, I'm sure."

Arthur was too stunned to move, watching as his father walked away from him, continuing his trek to the war room as if he had already decided their conversation was over. But it wasn't…the prince was shaking from hearing his father admitting Merlin's life was worthless…worthless…worthless…Merlin's face flashed in his mind. Defiant and bold and void of any life as he held up the goblet, mocking Arthur even as he drunk his death…Arthur knew with every fiber in his being that his father was actually wrong about this…there were plenty of people who would have missed Merlin. Gwen, tearfully tending to Merlin. Gaius, who'd lived and breathed for his nephew's safe recovery. Those men outside the healing rooms who had left behind their candles as a sign of Merlin being missed. And they weren't the only ones either…Arthur had passed by the kitchens earlier, and saw one of the serving girls-Mary-lighting a candle to set right outside the door, a symbolic symbol of being there for Merlin in spirit since she couldn't be there physically. And he had walked by the servants quarters as well, during his original search for his father, and saw Merlin's once manservant-George-was setting a candle against the wall by the door. And maybe, a voice that sounded like Arthur's, but was too soft and gentle to actually belong to him, whispered that he might actually miss him too.

It should have felt like a betrayal, like somebody else trying to move around in Arthur's skin…he should not be admitting he'd miss another boy. It was wrong. But Arthur only had to think of Merlin's raspy breathing, the sweaty skin, the fact that Merlin was lying there waiting on Arthur. Not just waiting but RELYING on Arthur to be the one to fix him, made him brush aside those discontented feelings. His skin was nearly vibrating, his blood stirring under his veins as he finally got moving, hurrying after Uther as fast as he could…Uther had been the one that forced Merlin into his life. Had made Merlin his in more ways than one …he couldn't just take him away as if Merlin hadn't gone and already affected everything. He couldn't turn his back away on Merlin now. No, it was more than that…Arthur WOULDN'T turn his back on Merlin now. The very least he could do was fight to save him…

"Please, father. I can do this, if you will only give me a single chance to prove it to you." Arthur exclaimed when he caught up to him. He was practically begging at this point, reduced to something far lesser than a prince, but for Merlin…Arthur set back his shoulders to try and regain some dignity in himself…his father would never agree if he thought Arthur sounded too invested in the well being of his husband. But bloody hell, was that not Arthur's entire job? Keeping an eye on the well being of his husband. "I know that you are busy with the war effort but surely you can spare a few men that won't make any real difference in the tides of war. Two or three at the most should be plenty to get what I need and return."

Two or three men, Arthur thought…it would be far less than the group he had been planning on taking. He had thought he had to take no more than ten men since he didn't need to take that many away from Camelot's resources. But less than five felt as if it was a dangerously low number, since Arthur couldn't have been sure how tough the monster guarding the forest was. He would even be willing to go as low as one other knight, but this was pure desperation on Arthur's part. It was starting to sound less like a mission, and more like a suicide run. But…Merlin…

"No."

That word sounded so bored coming from Uther's lips, but the prince could feel his teeth being set on edge. He wanted to do a low growl in frustration, something dangerous and dark, but this was his father. Not Merlin, who would've sat there taking his attitude…fuck, no. Merlin wouldn't have taken his attitude, not the Merlin from before. Not the Merlin who'd been beaten down by life…by Arthur. What kind of man was Arthur if he just allowed Uther's 'no' be the end of things? What kind of man is Arthur if he didn't stand his ground, and left Merlin to 'reap the consequences of his actions.' Arthur's actions had its own set of consequences! And he was reaping in them right now…the prince would never be able to forget the feel of Merlin's limp form in his arms. Never forget the pain in his eyes as he'd been clenching at his throat, silently begging for a help he'd thought was never going to come…

"We'll find the antidote and bring it back." Arthur hissed at his father through clenched teeth. He had to squeeze his hands to crease their vibrating at his side, but Arthur was insanely focus on the seconds passing them by. Knowing every second they'd spend arguing about this was another second that everything could be too late. Arthur would never get to talk to Merlin, this time an actual give and take conversation…and it would be his fault. He would have to live with the memory of Merlin and his self inflicted scars on his arms, and knowing he had no excuse for not seeing the signs earlier. "I think you are really seriously underestimating how strongly I feel about this father. I do have a duty to Merlin, after all. A duty that you gave me even when I did not want it. Why are you denying me from fulfilling my end of my vows. Did I not swear to protect Merlin on our wedding day…"

Arthur cut himself off abruptly, knowing he had been about to follow up with something that was far deeper and would have been far too personal…the prince ducked his head down. He'd already been going too far with bringing up the wedding vows that had been forced upon him and Merlin…things would have gotten a lot more dicey if Arthur brought up the personal vow he had made to Merlin later on. When he had told Merlin he'd always be safe in his castle…If his father thought for a second that Arthur was getting too close to Merlin, then he would be even more determined to let Merlin die. A prince wasn't meant to form attachments, and this possessiveness that had slowly been overtaking him since he'd met Merlin, was definite a big attachment. One that Uther would want to see squashed. But the prince wanted to hold onto the fire Merlin stirred inside his blood, wanted to hold onto the headache Merlin usually gave him, wanted to hold onto this pulse in his heart that seemed to say with every beat 'mine, mine, mine…' over and over again till it was ingrained in his very soul. Until there was no such thing as a Merlin without Arthur, entwining themselves together until one couldn't tell where one of them ended or the other begun.

Uther wouldn't understand this rawness in Arthur.

Arthur didn't even understand it.

But it was precious to him. And vital. And Merlin was the key to finding out why this was. Arthur couldn't even begin to hope to try to understand what made Merlin so different than anybody else, if he didn't have Merlin around. And none of this was just because Merlin was his husband and belonged to him. This…it was something different. Arthur was pretty sure even if he had never married Merlin and they had met through a different sort of circumstances, he would still grow this desperate need that came with being in Merlin's very presence.

"Arthur, my answer is still no." Uther said bluntly, as if Arthur was stupid for even trying to do what was right. And Arthur could not contain the rumble this time from rising low inside of his throat…Merlin is helpless! Merlin was weak! Merlin needed him…Arthur didn't think he had ever been needed by anybody before. Oh, sure. His father needed him to complete his duties and his people needed him to be their prince. But Merlin was a far different story…he didn't need Arthur the prince. Merlin just needed Arthur, the man. "And you and I both know that all the vows you took on your wedding day was only meant to please the romantics. They don't actually mean anything."

Arthur had thought the exact same thing, and had never put to much stock into those vows, he didn't even like thinking about them since they reminded him of his marriage. Of Merlin…now though, it felt as if the floodgates had been opened. Gaius had said Merlin had been terrified on their wedding, had said he'd been scared-had Merlin cried then, too? Like he had cried on his knees when Arthur had beat him across the face?-but the consort must have been braver than Arthur knew. He couldn't remember seeing that fear on Merlin. Only agitation, shared by the both of them, as they jammed the other's rings on as if this was a reflection of their true feelings about their marriage.

"Why won't you just let me go!" The words were ripped out of his throat before Arthur could think twice of stopping them. It made him sound petulant, more like he was whining because of how unfair he thought his father was…and he immediately knew he had made a major mistake. Merlin didn't need Arthur to be petulant, he didn't need him to whine his father into this agreement like a child. He needed a man…but Arthur was still so unsure what kind of man could get somebody like Merlin on any surface level. That didn't stop the next words from being ripped out his throat just the same, like a spew of word vomit that refused to leave him, "It's not as if you haven't sent me on missions that were far more dangerous and deadly for far less than what we have to gain now."

Hell, Arthur sometimes still thought of the very first mission he had ever been sent on only hours after he turned eighteen. His father had been holding onto that mission for Arthur until he'd been considered a man. Arthur had unofficially lead that first mission-with another knight playing backup if Arthur couldn't do the job and needed to pass on the torch, so to speak-since his father had thought it would be something easy for his first mission. A raid on a Druid camp…it had been horrid. There had been bloodshed flying everywhere, the screams haunting all of his dreams as he tried sleeping for weeks on end…was Merlin's screams also going to be added to the multitude that tried it's best to haunt him? Would it be much louder and more distinct, drowning out all of the others to forever remind him of how he had failed in the end. Because he wasn't smart enough to find a way to convince Uther that this was for the best…

"You're not going because one day I will be dead and Camelot is going to need to have a king sitting on the throne. And I will rather it be my own heir, than your consort surviving because you lasted long enough to return before submitting to injuries received from this fool's errand!" The King said, after whipping around in a flurry of robes, forcing Arthur to a stop. It seemed as if Arthur had finally reached Uther's breaking point, for the king actually sounded pissed. The first sign of emotion other than boredom and dismissal…Arthur looked down at his feet in shame, to avoid meeting his father's eyes. The king was right, of course, hadn't Arthur only agreed to marry Merlin to keep the kingdom under their rule? Arthur was usually proud to be the next king, wanting to do just as good as his father'd been before him. But now, he could feel the tight confines trying to squeeze: him…ripping him in two because of his duties to his consort and his duties to his kingdom. "I can't let you go and jeopardize the future of this kingdom, and everything we have been working towards since the day you were born, for…this. It is unseemly."

Unseemly…Arthur thought, his eyes sharpening on the ground now, was that what Merlin's life really boiled down too? A thing that was 'unseemly?' This was usually the point where Arthur would have backed off, because nothing in the world had been worth making his father angry or disappointed with him. And already he could feel the familiar itch under his skin telling him he was doing wrong, to abort this conversation and pretend it had never happened…to do something grand next week to get his father's attention and let him relax knowing Arthur knew all about his duties as a ruler of this kingdom. But…Arthur closed his eyes tightly, jaw clamping as tight as his hands were…he'd made a promise to Gaius and Gwen. He'd given them his word of returning with the cure…and…HE needed him.

It didn't matter how much Arthur repeated that phrase-Merlin needed him, Merlin needed him, Merlin needed him…he knew he would continue repeating it until that very fact was drilled in his skull. Repeating it till it was the only thing Arthur thought or breathed or…

"It's not a fool's errand." Arthur forced himself to say, ignoring his own discomfort-how many times had Merlin been forgotten behind and forced to flounder to keep up because Arthur had left him to swim or sink on his own-to get this out. "Gaius has told me the perimeters of this mission. I know exactly where I am going and I know what I am doing. Besides," Arthur paused to lick his lips-Merlin liked licking his lips, why had he thrown a huge fuss over it? He wouldn't have, if he knew it would be the last time he ever saw that pink tongue darting out across that pink flesh-knowing this was either going to make his king see reason, or have him locked in his rooms for impudence. "Gaius will not go along with your plan. I fear his bond to Merlin is far stronger than his loyalty to this kingdom. He won't play along with pretending there was no cure."

Arthur would be the last person in the world to say he could predict how Gaius would react if Merlin died…Arthur himself felt as if he wanted to tear the entire world down just to make things be put back to rights. But he had to hold it together, he only needed to make a single crack in his father's armor…the king would surely see reason if they knew how close they may come to losing a prized member of their kingdom's resources because of their inactiveness. Gaius was already turning down people who needed healing, how long would it be before Gaius started turning away more serious injuries? How long would he last himself, going about in a daze until he finally snapped and hurt somebody else-just like Merlin, just like Merlin, just like-in an attempt to escape his own pain.

"Really, Arthur. I do not think I have anything to worry about. I have known Gaius for longer than you have been alive. I don't dare know why you are thinking otherwise, but he has worked for decades to get where he is now. He is not going to turn his back on everything he has accomplished, over a boy he's only known for a few months. No matter what 'bond' you think the two of them have. Gaius will do what I say, because he knows he doesn't have any other choice." Uther spoke, confident and calm in his assessment, as if he could not imagine any world in which involved Gaius betraying them. But Arthur's brows came together confused…could it be possible? Did his father…could his father also not know Merlin was related to Gaius? If he did know, surely Uther would have been more concerned. Familiar bonds seemed to be the highest cause for knights deflecting or leaving the battlefields, why would Gaius be any different in that matter? But Uther continued talking before Arthur could figure out if his father was just as clueless as he was, "Beside, there is a reason Gaius' expertise is in healing and not dealing with missions. Any mission Gaius would assign is the definition of a fool's mission."

Arthur swallowed down this impulsive urge to defend Gaius on Merlin's behalf, he doubted the boy would have sat back when his uncle was being ridiculed. And Arthur owed a debt to Gaius that he didn't even know how he would begin to repay…there's so much about Merlin that would have gone missed if the man hadn't sought to inform Arthur in the most brutal way possible. But the fight seemed to drain out of him as soon as it showed up…Uther was never going to allow him to go, was he? He was going to be stuck here, reduced to what his father wanted him to do…reduced to standing at Merlin's side and being to much of a bloody coward to stand up for the family that was forced to entangle with their own…

"Please, father." Arthur choked out, with his entire body going through a full body shudder. He was very much aware of how he was begging for his father to help him now, his pride being reduced to nothing in light of this conversation. A prince must never beg for anything, a prince commanded respect and had an air around them that made people follow them. But…Arthur closed his eyes again, drawing forth Merlin's pale frame laid on that bed. For Merlin…Arthur would get down on his knees, and press his forehead to the floor, and plea with his father for only an ounce of mercy. "He has done more for this kingdom than I think any of us could have expected. I stand here only because of him…I know that it's not what you want to hear. I know it will be easier to stand by and watch him die. But-" his voice gave a loud crack somewhere in the middle, but Arthur continued and pushed on. "I can't do that. I can't…I can't stand by and just do nothing but watch."

And Uther simply stared at him for the longest moment, it was long enough that Arthur would have ducked his head and tried hiding his face away. Too vulnerable, too much…he showed too much emotion. Could Uther see the raw helplessness he could feel staining his features? Could Uther see the desperation the prince was struggling with? Did Uther see the way Arthur was willing to debase himself, in order to get him to accept this. Or had Arthur already lost Uther long before he had even tried. A shuddering breath escaped him, but it did nothing to alleviate the stress that one look managed to invoke in him…

"Then don't look." Uther said viciously, voice colder and with more steel than the situation called for. And Arthur flinched as if the other man had just struck him across the face. "Merlin is not going to be the last one to die on your behalf. I think we're quite lucky it was the boy we lost, rather than somebody else who's actually valuable to this kingdom. Something like this is just something you are going to have to get used to. When you are king, there will be hundreds of men willing to walk into the fire themselves to keep you safe. And this is no different than it will be then."

Arthur could feel his throat convulsing sharply…was this what it meant to be king? To let people walk into the line of fire and give their lives away for him? It didn't seem fair. Or right. And it wasn't like this was just 'anybody'. Some random knight he had not ever met before. This was MERLIN…and that made this so much different than it should have. Arthur didn't want to grow to be so heartless, that something like this wouldn't affect him. That didn't stop the dark whisper in the back of his mind trying to tell him he might have already became that heartless.

"I can't accept that."

The words squeezed out of Arthur harder than they should've been. It should have been easy for Arthur to fight for Merlin, it should have been easy for Arthur to do this because he knew it was the right thing. But his father thought differently, and it was making him question things. It was like Uther had said, he was to be king, and there were so many more things at stake right now. But everything in Arthur screamed at him to ignore his father for once, to do what his heart wanted him to do. To be the man that Merlin had wanted him to be, before giving up on him completely.

"You are not going."

The king said this bluntly, as if the decision was his and only his alone. And for some reason, this really got underneath the prince's skin, something raw rubbing him under his skin. The King should be trusted enough to make decisions that would be best for the kingdom. But what about the decisions that'd be best for Merlin? A touch of tight fisted fury ebbed its way into his chest…why did Uther continue getting in the way of his relationship with Merlin? He spent so much of his time getting involved, and now that Arthur was finally putting forth this real effort…he wanted to stop him? Hell, maybe it was Uther's fault that Arthur was like this…that Arthur was blinded by what was going on around him…so focused on the kingdom as a whole, but not to the people involved in it. Arthur didn't know a thing about making connections or how to talk to people outside of his royal duties or how to see anything other than the worse in people!

It would be so easy for Arthur to lay those kind of faults at the feet of his father, to somehow blame him for his consort being in the predicament he was now. But Arthur was smart enough to know…that wasn't the case. That was only Arthur trying his best to make this somebody else's problem. But it wasn't…his father might have involved himself in too much. But he hadn't been there when Arthur had brutalized his consort. He wasn't the reason Merlin had mutilated his arms. His father wasn't the one who allowed things to get out of hand, and literally broke his consort's bone….that had been him. It had all been him. It was something Arthur needed to accept, if he planned to avoid the same mistakes in the future.

"You can't stop me. I'll be much faster if I have my men but I'll go alone if I have too. I'm sure the men will rather be helping in the war efforts more than they would want to go looking for a rare flower in the middle of nowhere." Arthur said bluntly…the prince couldn't just give up, after all. His chest constricted at the mere thought of walking away and allowing his father to be the one with the last word. He wasn't sure how he could do the whole thing alone, but that was just something he would need to figure out later. "I hope that you will accept my decision but this is something that I feel I have to do. He's my consort…this is literally what I'm supposed to do for him, right?"

Arthur smiled weakly, he might not have his father's extra man power but maybe he could still have his support. He'd need all the support he could get right now, if he was really going to do this alone. Arthur wasn't usually the type of man that leaped in things without thinking through every possible outcome. There was always a plan in the back of his mind, a firm guideline that he could follow. With at least five different plans waiting in the wings if things were wrong or something happened…but there was nothing like that this time. It was just Arthur and his horse, and the dozens of miles stretched between Camelot and Balor Forest. Endless trails where Arthur would just be winging it the whole way there…but his plans involving Merlin hadn't worked out…ever. Why should this be any different…he just hoped he wasn't making a huge mistake…

"Damn it, Arthur! This is the end of discussion!" Uther started to shout, and Arthur hunched his shoulders in reflexively, ears ringing from the curse his father had dropped. Perhaps Arthur did not have Uther's support, not if he was willing to break his perfect kingly persona long enough to sound like the peasants off the streets. But perhaps Uther saw something stricken on Arthur's face, some type of horror, because his face seemed to soften before he was stepping forward and cupping Arthur on his shoulder. The prince's knees almost buckled under the weight of that hand though it wasn't heavy at all, maybe it was because the guilt was starting to become too much and he did not know how long he could continue walking around like this …was it even a fraction of what Merlin had been feeling? "I do understand that you might be feeling responsible towards your consort, and that is partly my fault. I kept telling you to take a firm hand to your consort before things spiraled out of control and as you can see, I was right. But you are young, and this is your first marriage. So perhaps that has something to do with your defiant attitude as well. But, I do like to think that there's always a silver lining hidden in tragedy. If it helps you to move past this, then think about it this way…we can finally put things back to rights. Get your life back on track once Merlin's finally moved on. And we can remove that wretched family line from our family tree."

Remove that…Arthur felt this unsettled chill starting to creep over him…wretched family line. He didn't like the sound of that at all, just like he hadn't liked Uther's plan to do nothing as his consort suffered. And to get his life back on track…Arthur had not realized his life wasn't on track? Everything had been fine, or as fine as he thought it could be. Before it had all gone right to hell in a hand basket. With a bright pink bow attached onto it and everything. Arthur knew he was going to hate whatever his father's answer was, but he still had the presence in mind to ask 'what he meant.'

"Merlin has never been a strong fit for our family. I admit he's not a complete failure, but he's not exactly somebody I would want in our family. I mean, surely you must have heard of those unsightly rumors going around about him-" Uther started with an unsettling ease, seemingly completely unaware of how the prince just felt as if his world had crumbled around him. He felt as if his breath had just been stolen right out of his lungs…the rumors…Uther had heard the rumors of Merlin sleeping around on him. When had he heard them? Were people still gossiping about that when his consort lay dying? Was Merlin opening up his legs really more interesting than giving up his life? Was this why Uther was so interested in seeing Merlin gone? Destroying the adulterer in a way that meant he didn't have to lift a single finger to do it himself? If Arthur did manage to get the cure to begin with…was he just setting Merlin up for more danger? He couldn't imagine what Uther would do to get rid of Merlin with other means… "I of course, don't believe them for a second, as the boy knows far better than to do something like that. Merlin is an idiot, but he's not that much of an idiot. It's the reputation that counts though. And once he's passed on, and once you've gone through the standard month long mourning practice then I'll get you a proper match set up. Perhaps Lady Clarissa might make an ideal choice. She's beautiful and decently known and as far as I'm aware, doesn't have any wrongdoings attached to her reputation or name. And the two of you already have some kind of connection, unless Merlin was wrong and lied when he stated your infatuation with her."

Uther raised an eyebrow at Arthur, as if daring him to try and tell him Merlin had been lying about his almost affair, give him another reason to hate on the boy. But Arthur's knees shook a little, he opened and closed his mouth…trying to imagine being married off to Lady Clarissa. Everything would have been very different from the marriage he knew, and his heart gave a jolt in horror. He didn't want Clarissa for many reasons. For one, it was obvious she would take up residence in the suites next to his. And those weren't hers…somewhere along the way, it had seemed as if Arthur had decided those were Merlin's rooms…it didn't matter if he never slept in them. To see somebody other than Merlin making a home in there, sleeping between the blue sheets as if they were their's, eating or working at the desk as if it belonged to them…made something in his stomach churn in disgust. The idea of walking out his room every morning and meeting with blond haired Clarissa and knowing with a bored certainly everything that was going to happen that day…it was a far cry from the dark haired Merlin that forced Arthur to stay on his toes in order to keep up. Clarissa would probably even do everything perfectly, she seemed smart and raised enough to know how to behave in public. To never step out of line. To do nothing of actual mention other than approved courses for a Royal consort.

She would never ignore Arthur and look into medicine because it interested her.

She would never speak to the king as if he was any other man in the world.

She would never treat Arthur as anything other than the prince he was.

Not even the idea of sleeping with her-he had already resigned himself to nothing but his own hand, after the horrific moment Merlin had walked in on them-was enough to tempt him into a relationship with this girl. The idea of her nails clawing slowly down his back as he touched her-instead of the knee he half expected to fly into his groin for getting out of line-filled him with a certain dread. The idea of feeling her squeezing around him as she gave soft moans…didn't make him excited. Not the same excitement Merlin gave him whenever he was behaving like some kind of sassy brat.

"Please, sire. I am sure you can see planning another wedding while my consort still breaths is tacky at best and then awful at worse. It's madness to already pick out another partner for me right now." Arthur said, his voice sharper than his father's was when he cursed at him. He tucked one hand behind his back in order to hide the shaking rage trying to overtake him…his king was just doing what he thought was best. And Clarissa would quite literally be everything he wanted in a bride. But he would be bored so easily. He would go through life without one single surprise to keep it interesting. He would never have to worry of her, or what she was doing, or if she was going to be late to an important event. He would not even have to think about her for one second, because he knew she had everything handled. He could honestly not imagine anything worse than living with this day in and day out for the rest of his days. If he had a choice to who he would be wedded too, then…it was really no choice. "It was an exaggeration of my consort to indicate any infatuation with Lady Clarissa. I am sure she will make an excellent bride someday. But it won't be with me."

Arthur could feel a certain surety in this. Even if Merlin died of this illness, he wanted to be brave enough to deny a second marriage after his monthly mourning-a period of time people were expected to stay locked in their rooms, wearing nothing other then black, and mourning to anybody who will listen to them about their loved lost one-he wanted to believe he would say no. Merlin had thrown so many fits over Clarissa, that he'd probably claw his way out of his grave and dedicate a lifetime to haunting Arthur. In fact, Arthur didn't think he would marry another for as long as Merlin lingered in his mind…

"I do not know why you are acting like this, since Clarissa is a far superior choice. But I suppose it hardly matters right now, we still have to wait till the boy dies before anything can be done-" Uther said blandly, and Arthur hissed long before he could think about it, his teeth pulling back in an odd rendition of some kind of rabid animal. Uther's eyes sharpened on him and Arthur looked away. There was this long moment of silence where Arthur was sure he was going to be reminded of his place in this kingdom. But then Uther simply said, "You will return to your room and you will stay there for the rest of this evening. I can see these events have shaken you up as well. I'll not make you stand with your consort while he breaths his last breath. We'll talk about your next wedding later, when you had time to process what is happening with your first. The Arthur I know wouldn't be behaving so rashly-" the king scoffed. "Just thinking of you running off on your own, what are you thinking by suggesting such a thing."

And then Uther was gone, wondering off down the hall toward the war room as if he wasn't leaving his son in desolate strings behind him. Arthur wanted to crumble right then and there on the ground, his knees shaking so violently that he didn't know how he was still standing. Was this really it? Had that actually happened just now. Had Arthur…had he failed Merlin? Not just the once, but again. His father had spoken his final word, and Arthur couldn't leave the castle without disobeying him….and he couldn't stay here either. Not when the first person to have been unfortunate enough to stumble upon him, would be stuck dealing with his wrath.

Arthur spun on his heel and left as fast as he could towards his bed chambers, not noticing Lady Morgana and Gwen watching him go, having caught the tail end of their conversation.

The two girls gave each other a look, before nodding, no need for words between them. And they went their separate ways…Gwen to the healing quarters. And Morgana after Arthur…