Castle of Cards

by mizzymel (melmorgan)

Summary:

An ambush turns Arthur and Merlin's world upside down as the castle of cards Uther carefully crafted begins to crumble, leaving the truth of the great purge exposed. As the past threatens to repeat itself, Morgana plots her most ruthless coup yet. Royal!Merlin Canon divergent post S4

Chapter 1

Notes:

One quick thing to note. I have changed one thing in canon. That 20 years statement from Uther in episode one. This fic takes place shortly after the end of Season 4, so by my estimate, Merlin has been in Camelot nearly 5 years. In this story Merlin was 16 and Arthur was a few weeks shy of 18 when Merlin arrived in Camelot. The Dragon had been imprisoned, 17 years. So Uther can't count, it just didn't happen, or he's rounding up. Take your pick.

This is my first attempt at writing a fic. This plot bunny has plagued me for 3 years, so I finally wrote it. Please be kind. Any tips to improve my writing are encouraged. I update this on FFnet first, but will be updating weekly.

Prologue:

His father would never have allowed this to happen. Aurelianus closed his eyes and hung his head in sorrow. He could hear the clanking of swords, combined with the yowls of the dying in the distance as his forces gave a new fight to a battle already lost. The cobblestone beneath his feet was slick with the innards of the dead, men he'd known his entire life littering the ground in front of him. The smoke lingered so thick in the air he was forced to squint, fighting against the river now leaking from his eyes, as the particles irritated them. It worked to his advantage, as the haze hung low over the courtyard, providing additional cover in the shadows. He squinted against the bright rupture scarring the starless sky, as Kilgharrah and Drocoli did their work. He might have felt sorry for Vortigern's forces still outside the citadel, and those retreating from Benoic towards the mighty castle he now crouched beside. But he didn't. Looking at the scene in front of him now, he knew he never would. He was too late. Camelot had fallen.

He watched silently hidden in the shadows as what remained of his younger brother's army were corralled in the courtyard, forced to bear witness to their King's sightless eyes placed upon the stake. If he had arrived minutes earlier perhaps he could have saved them, but he hadn't. Fighting nausea Aurelianus looked away as they yanked the lifeless body of his nephew, Warrick, from the platform and tossed it on the ground next to his mother's.

Get to the boys. He forced himself to move, the thought propelling him forward with a new urgency he inched along the wall silently through the shadows till he came to the heavily guarded barracks. He quietly cast the spell that sent six of Vortigern's men to their slumber before slipping into the makeshift prison they'd been guarding. He held his breath, hopeful the young princes had not yet joined their parents and older brother in death. He was well aware they were next, considering where they were held and the display outside. He knew he only had a few moments before Vortigern would send for them. He had been counting on the warlord keeping the boys separate from their parents and brother. There was no question the tyrant would kill them; his rule would never be considered legitimate, by the people or other kingdoms, as long as a Pendragon heir still had breath in their lungs, but it was very unlikely he'd make a spectacle of it. Their parents and older brother were one thing, as a show of power, but the public execution of the young princes, both practically still babes, was more likely to cause revolt than the subjugation of the people.

Aurelianus inched around the corner and sighed with relief to find the filthy and terrified children huddled in the corner.

"Uther," Aurelianus whispered, catching the eldest of the boy's attention, he quickly put his finger to his mouth to indicate the child should not make any noise, as the child's eyes widened in relief and recognition.

He'd been terrified the boy would yell out. Instead, he nodded and waited, casting his eyes to the left to inform him of guards in the room. Aurelianus nodded at the boy and let his eyes wander to the youngest, Constans, who had his head buried his older brothers stomach quietly crying. Aurelianus shook with relief seeing his nephews, in what appeared to be good health and uninjured. A third child stood behind both boys, and he recognized him immediately as Ban Inwudu. Aurelianus had almost forgotten the young prince of Benoic was being fostered for the summer in Camelot. Considering the carnage that occurred in the child's own kingdom this night, he was thrilled to see Ban alive, he had, until now, assumed Bors heir dead.

He motioned for the boys to come to him, after dropping four more guards with a spell.

"All of you be silent, do not look around and do not fall behind, do you understand?" He whispered to the frightened children.

"Uther, you take charge of your brother and Ban, do not let them fall behind."

Tear tracks lining the nine-year-olds soot covered face; Uther nodded his understanding, as he took the boys hands in his own.

"Stay your eyes on me, Constans and Ban close your eyes and let him lead you." The boys nodded, and he quietly led them from the barracks they'd been held. He quickly moved the young princes along the wall through the shadows toward the gates, his men now keeping Saxon's busy as Vortigern faced a new onslaught from Cerniw's Knights even in his victory. Feeling the child falter behind him, he reached his arm out to grab the nine-year-old and move him along. He knew what the boy saw, his family was dead, his home in tatters, and hundreds of his father's men laid dead scattered at their feet. He had to give the kid credit for maintaining his silence as they slipped into the siege tunnel and followed it to the outer ward. He's not sure he could have done the same if faced with this situation at that age; he'd barely managed to do so now. He quickly led the boys through the tree's and into the cavern where several knights were waiting for their arrival, each immediately taking a child and stripping them of their clothing, checking them for injury and quickly replacing the delicate fabrics befitting their station, with the coarser material worn by the peasantry.

"Constantine? Warrick?" The soldier asked looking behind his king with anticipation. Aurelianus shook his head and rubbed his palms over his eyes. The knight winced, turning his eyes down and clutched his king's shoulder.

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah," the king muttered turning his eyes to his nephew's and the son of his neighbor as they were prepared for travel. They were still silent, though he realized they were undoubtedly in shock.

Aurelianus couldn't help but worry about what was occurring at his castle, thoughts of his son weighing heavily on his mind. He had to trust his army, and the dragons to hold the line. Bal was clever, so he had to believe if trouble came to their home, his boy would find a place to hide his mother and himself until he got there.

Cerniw was well protected, especially after Benoic had been liberated of Vortigern's men and the foreigner's pursuit of Cerniw stopped cold. It had been hairy for a few hours as they'd battled for the keep, and forced the invaders to flee. Drocoli had a lot to do with that as the Saxons got a harsh life lesson the Ambrosius family was not the only line of Dragon Lords in these lands.

The warlord had been unable to breach the coast in their earlier pursuit of Cerniw; the dragons had made sure of that, giving them their first taste of wrath by laying waste to their ships before they had even made it to the mount. It had taken them four years to regroup and try again. He had to give the tyrant some credit; he hadn't expected him to attempt taking Camelot and Benoic by land to surround him. Had he been successful Cerniw would have been boxed in, backed to the sea, and incredibly vulnerable, even with the dragons. If Vortigern got his hands on Cerniw, it would have created a direct line from Brittany by way of the sea. Holding Benoic and Camelot as well would leave Vortigern's father with more than enough land, holdings, and resources under their command; the Saxons would swarm these lands like insects, and take every kingdom within it as their own.

"Is there a path out Leone?" He turned to the soldier warily, shaking himself out of his thoughts and returning to the matter at hand.

"Your beasts cleared to the east,"

"They're not damn beasts." The King snapped, interrupting his commander, his nerves frayed to their endings.

"They're looking very beastly at the moment Sire, but if it pleases you, your dragons, cleared to the east, we could head into Essetir and drop south, but Cerdic's already got his men swarming the borders. Under normal circumstances, he'd likely give us safe passage, but he may seek to offer the boys for his kingdom to be left alone."

Aurelianus cursed under his breath, "Only if he has a death wish, sound the retreat. Vortigern's hiding behind the inner curtain knowing damn well I won't have the dragons destroy it. He's got the majority of what forces he has left in there with him. We got what we came for."

"The bodies?"

"They're on pikes Leone; there's nothing I can do. I don't like it, but we'll try to get them when we come back. Right now we regroup."

"And the men?"

"Cells are empty; those in the courtyard jumped back into battle when we arrived. They'll retreat with us."

Leone nodded, as the battalion of knights made ready, the three princes now shielded and disguised.

Aurelianus grabbed a burlap sack and jumped on his horse, positioning the bag full of scrap material in front of him so that it might look like a child in the dark. Leon grabbed another and repeated his king's actions, instructing another knight to do the same, seemingly understanding his King's intentions.

"Nine of you head east to Essetir with the boys; we're going straight south with decoys. I'll send Drocoli to cover you, and instruct her to make an example out of anyone who attempts to impede your journey, no matter what border you've crossed. And if it becomes an issue you make sure Cerdic knows if he impedes you in any way my response will be far worse than anything Vortigern can throw at him. He's either my ally or my enemy, so he'd better pick his side."

"Yes Sire," the knight nodded as the procession of knights carrying the three terrified princes left the cavern. Aurelianus nodded at the men, turning back to the outer wards, he noted the mess that had been made of the forest. It'd take twenty or thirty years before Kilgharrah's wrath would no longer be visible. He quietly called out in the tongue of dragons and watched with a smile as the blue and white beauty banked to the west, before circling and flying off to the east as the horn of retreat sounded behind him. Kilgharrah soon appeared above their heads, covering his men's return to the south. With regret, Aurelianus cast his eyes back towards Camelot, the land of their ancestors gifted to his brother by their father when he'd begun his own house and dynasty. Vortigern would live to regret this day. This would not go unanswered; Camelot would return to Constantine's house. If it was the last thing, Aurelianus ever did.

---

 

2 Months Later -

Uther sat at the small table, doodling while glancing out the window of the room longingly. Balinor was already on the field listening intently to his father giving him instruction.

"The longer you're not writing, the longer it will take for you to join him." Uther's head snapped up to the old woman, Anabelle, their new tutor.

"Why does he get to be out there and I'm stuck in here?" Uther pouted, looking back to the window as his cousin slashed at the air with the dulled weapon.

"He's finished his lessons already," the old woman countered raising her eyebrow at him.

"Of course, he did," Uther muttered.

"Shh," Constans huffed, the six-year-old scrunching his face in concentration as he returned to his coursework.

"Father let me go to training even if I hadn't finished my stupid writing," Uther muttered petulantly.

"You weren't the heir to his throne, but now you are. Reading and writing are a high priority, and you're already behind. So get to it, young man. The quicker you're done, the quicker you can join your cousin in training."

Uther huffed, looking back toward the window wistfully. They'd only been in Cerniw two months, and he liked it fine. He had always loved it here when they'd visited, but it wasn't Camelot, and he missed his home. His Uncle had taken him and his brother, Constans, as wards when Vortigern had attacked the castle and killed his father. He shook off the thought, not wanting to relive it again; he did that enough while he was asleep. Not that the young prince would tell anyone that, especially not his cousin. Bal would probably tattle to his father just so Edith, the physician, would make him drink something foul.

Uther was used to being bossed about by an older brother, but his older brother was a lot older, by ten whole years, so he'd always done what Warrick said without questioning it. He was the future king and a knight after all. Balinor may be a future king too, but he's only a year older than Uther, and definitely not his brother. Not that it stopped the ten-year-old from stomping around as if he was already king. And a dragon lord. Silently Uther hoped Bal didn't get magic too because then he'd really be insufferable. Even better maybe he would get some magic of his own, and be better at it than Bal. That'd show him. Bal wasn't the only future King; his Uncle had told him they were going to win Camelot back so he could take the throne. So he was a future King too, and his cousin needed to know it.

Bal was getting a dulled weapon today, but Uther had an advantage because his father had already let him swing one. He wanted nothing more than to be down on that field to instruct his cousin on how wrong he was holding it. Uther smirked. He'd be better than Bal at that too, and he already had a head start.

Uther sighed as Constans pushed his parchment back swinging his legs happily in his chair while the old tutor checked over his work. When he got a nod of approval Uther groaned as his little brother jumped from his seat yelling "beat you" in a sing-song voice and ran to the training grounds to get his wooden sword.

"Little traitor," Uther muttered under his breath, as he turned his attention back to his work. If he was going to show Bal he was better with a dulled sword he needed to be there to do it, and the old bat wouldn't let him out of her sight until she got her way.

---

 

One Year Later –

"Ambrosius!"

Aurelianus smiled broadly and clasped arms with his old friend. "Brom, I trust your trip was without incident?"

"Ran into a little trouble around Mercia, but skirted to the east a bit and came through Benoic, Bors sends his regards."

Aurelianus nodded, and extended his arm toward the massive castle, indicating Dyfed's King should follow.

"Nasty business with your brother, I'm sorry."

Aurelianus nodded his thanks, still uncomfortable with the subject. Constantine and Warrick's death had hit him hard, and he mostly blamed himself for it. He should have seen that coming, he'd never forgive himself that he hadn't.

"How's Bors doing? I haven't been down to see him, with four boys now keeping me occupied, on top of everything else."

"Ah yes, he told me he'd sent Ban up a few months back to continue his training while he recovered. He's doing alright, better than I'd heard he was. Walks with a limp and doesn't want to say it, but it's clear he'll never swing a sword again. To be expected I suppose, taking on eight to one when they went after Ricard, if the bards are to believed. He says they'd told him Ban was dead; he wasn't about to let them have his spare. "

Aurelianus winced at the crude reference to King's second son. He'd seen how much that had hurt his brother growing up, in fact, Constantine had hated him much of their life as a result of it. The animosity had gotten so bad between them their father had sent Constantine to Camelot to be fostered by his brother, who was Lord of the then minor Kingdom, on his father's behalf. When Constantine came of age and their uncle passed, their father made Camelot a kingdom separate from Cerniw, splitting their ancestral lands for the first time since Bruta had done it centuries ago by giving Benoic to the Inwudu line. He and Constantine had eventually repaired their relationship as they became adults and Kings, and had grown very close over the last fifteen years, which made his death hurt even more. They'd had a lifetime and wasted it.

Aurelianus made a point now to make sure Uther and Constans never felt being the spare was all their existence was worth. Though he realized, for many, it was. He knew Uther had grown up feeling the effects of being the spare as well, ironic considering his father's violent aversion to it, and could see the boy overcompensating at times as a result, to prove himself. Constans, while still too young to grasp it, had been Constantine's insurance. A spare to the spare, so to speak. Still, he'd done little to prepare either boy for the reality of the throne if it ever came to them. Until now the only concept the boys had of their lives was they would grow up and lead the Knights, in their brother's court. For Constans, that was probably a reality, so he'd paid him special attention during their training, but he'd make sure the boy was prepared for the throne. Just in case.

"Bors lived, and they didn't, in the end, that's all that matters." Aurelianus murmured returning to the conversation at hand.

Dyfed's King nodded his head in agreement as they entered the solar, the northwestern King would be staying during the duration of his visit.

"How are the boys doing?" Brom asked conversationally, as Aurelianus signaled for a servant to bring refreshments, and a light meal for their guest.

"They're acclimating. It was hardest for Uther, he was on a strict regime at home, and I do things a bit differently than his father. He and Balinor have created the rivalry of the ages. Sometimes it worries me, but they push each other to be better and seem to have found their groove. They've gotten closer. The first two or three months was the hardest. I think it helps to have Ban here; he appears to be the common ground between the two, since he's close to both of them and won't tolerate their bickering. Constans trails after all of them like a lost puppy when he's not spending time with Gregor and Edith's youngest, Ector."

"The physicians? Thought they just had the one."

"Had Ector a few years after Gaius, he and Constans are the same age now. It's been awhile since you've been here my friend."

"Indeed it has. Indeed it has."

Aurelianus looked out the window at the group of boys, and the little brotherhood they'd created in the year his nephews had been in Cerniw. Balinor, Uther, Constans, Ban, Tristan, Ector, Gaius, and his head knight Leone's young son, Manafort, all gathered on the field sparring and showing off for the de Bois girls who had stopped to watch them, along with several of their friends. He watched the boys theatrics with a wistful smile, before turning back to the visiting King.

He knew Brom was here for a reason, and neither wanted to broach the subject.

"It's dangerous times out there Brom, especially for you to travel this far south and east." The dragon lord turned toward his royal guest expectantly, as the young king in front of him nodded his head, and put down his goblet.

"Vitalis didn't just send Vortigern; he sent his younger son Faustus as well. Northumbria can't fight on two fronts with the Picts trying to make ground; we know some have come through there by way of Bernicia. Deira has them blocked off for now, but my spies tell me his goal is may be Thant by land. But you should be aware, they've got Dinas. I'm pretty sure that's how he got enough men down here to come knocking on your door last year, so that's a problem. "

Aurelianus exhaled, and cursed under his breath. "I thought the Picts took Dinas? Not that that's much better."

"Oh they did, but Vortigern took it from the Picts and left it with Faustus. They didn't bother to send messengers."

"Where the hell is Bagdemagus, surely he noticed, they would have had to go through Elmet to make it south and east." Aurelianus rubbed his hands over the back of his neck in exasperation.

"I don't know, but if I had to guess, he's made a deal to look the other way, for them to bypass him and leave him be, or they took Elmet or at least part of it, and we don't know it yet. I've sent men scout, soon as I know for certain I'll make sure you're sent a message. Either way, it means we don't know who is hiding where only that they've not gotten past me. If they keep Dinas and get through Deira to take Thant, it's going to be near impossible to stop them taking permanent hold of a part of the north." Dyfed's king countered, locking eyes with the raven haired dragon lord.

"So you decided to come down here?" the king questioned the logic of leaving in such a situation.

"At the moment, they're occupied trying to hold the Picts off from taking Dinas back, and the trembler's there have thwarted their effort to fortify it, which was a lucky break. My men are preparing, and allies are gathering. So I'm taking advantage of their distraction. I know you've got your hands full down here, so I'm not asking for any assistance. I've got the resources and allies around me; we're prepared to dig in for as long as it takes to defend from the north. I've just dropped Andred to be fostered with my sister in Carleon, and I'm hoping you'll give your blessing and help me find a suitable host for Hunith here."

"You know Cerniw is a primary target? The shortest route from Brittany is my coast; Vitalis wants it." Aurelianus questioned whether such a thing was wise.

"I do, but I also know you've got the coast covered with your dragons. Between you and Bor's forces, Benoic's borders are near impenetrable at this point, and Vortigern is hiding in the keep, trying to figure out how he's going to replenish all the men he lost to hold Camelot, let alone gain any ground. I've got the north cut off to him, and mercenaries want nothing to do with your dragons. We both know the only reason he's still there is you didn't turn that castle to rubble to force him out. He knows it too and so does his father. The way I see it, this is the safest place for her at the moment."

"Are you gonna be able to hold the northern line and western coast, because if you need assistance…"

"They found out Cerniw and Benoic have dragons the hard way., I'm certain they've not worked out I've got dragon lords in my court too, but the lay of my land is different from yours. If I let loose the hounds of war, and those dragons rain hell, it's just as likely to burn my keep with them. I'll do it, and I won't dither about it either. I can always rebuild a castle on land that's mine. But I won't have my heirs there."

Aurelianus nodded, in full understanding. "Madoc de Bois, he's my chief adviser, and I trust him with my life. He's got two girls, Elaine and Ygraine, that are near about her age, and he's got an estate suitable for a Princess."

"Ah, yes, I know Madoc, my wife and his go way back. His estate would indeed be suitable. I believe Hunith already knows the girls when she visited with her mother a few years back." Brom nodded in delight.

Aurelianus nodded, as he stood patting the visiting king on the shoulder as he moved toward the door.

"I'll have him join us for dinner then."

Chapter 2: Chapter 2

"You fight as well as some of my knights," Arthur called across the clearing, stealing a glance at the petite beauty as she threw her sword into the dirt with disgust.

"Casualty of growing up around knights," she muttered, stepping over the dead man at her feet before turning toward the brush of trees he was quickly moving toward.

Merlin, he thought the adrenaline of the fight giving way to fear and sorrow as the image of his servant collapsing with an arrow embedded in his side moments earlier replayed in his mind. She'd arrived out of nowhere, only drawing attention to herself when Merlin had yelled in pain while attempting to remove the lethal projectile. Arthur had made eye contact with her then. For a fleeting moment, his arm had been raised and he'd nearly thrown his sword in her direction before he'd realized she was tending his wound and trying to help.

Nodding as she pulled the manservant into the brush away from the fighting, he'd turned his eyes back to their attackers, only realizing she'd joined the fight a few seconds later when a sapphire jeweled dagger protruded from the back of the now deceased bandit who had attempted to take advantage of his distraction from behind. He'd watched out of the corner of his eye as she picked up a fallen man's sword and join the fray, quickly killing two of their attackers with the speed and agility of any knight he'd be proud to say he trained.

"Move," she snapped breathlessly, pushing through the group of his elite knights who had swarmed their fallen friend after the last man had fallen. Pushing her way past the men, she called, "I need water," the annoyance in her voice failing to hide the panic pooling in her eyes. Not addressing anyone in particular, she pulled a pair of leaves from the small satchel tied around her tiny waist. "I don't have a bowl so cup your hands." She quickly demonstrated before grinding the leaf into dust in Percival's palms with a rock and pouring enough water to mix the powder into a paste.

"Are you a physician?" Gwaine asked, and Arthur couldn't help but note the anguish in his voice. He and Merlin had always been good friends and he certainly couldn't begrudge him that. In truth, Merlin was all of their friend and there was little doubt all of them were fighting to protect their fallen and helpless friend as much as they were fighting to protect their King and their own lives.

"Of a sort, I suppose," she muttered, smearing the paste over and around the wound before covering it with a full leaf and securing it in place using an improvised bandage ripped from the cloth of her shirt. Satisfied with her work, she reached her hand to his forehead and whispered under her breath, the movement causing the man beneath her to shudder and gasp before falling back into his slumber.

"What did you just do?" Arthur asked, bristling at the display but unsure if he even wanted to know so long as the man beneath her survived.

"I said a prayer." She visibly stiffened. "Gwaine?" She looked around at the knights until the rogue identified himself.

"I'm told your loyalty to Arthur began through your loyalty to him. It is for this reason I task you with this. He'll be fine, but you must not disturb the bandages. Gaius will know how to handle the leaf; disturbing it too soon or removing it incorrectly could yet kill him. He'll require blood soup as soon as possible. Under no circumstance can he die. Do you understand?" Noting the stunned and battle-weary knights nod, she patted his leg softly before abruptly standing, turning to face the sandy-haired monarch behind her.

She was tiny, her blue-green eyes exotic next to the ivory of her skin and the warm and golden tones of brown in her neatly braided hair. Her jeweled dagger along with the fine silks and velvet of her riding clothes left little question of her station. Whoever she was, she was from a very wealthy and prestigious family.

"My Lady." He nodded to her, prepared to greet her formally when the weight of what had just occurred seemed to crash upon her and her delicate features twisted into a mask of hatred and anger.

"Ignorant fool. Are you mad?" she spat, holding her hand up to cut off any response as she pushed past him toward the bodies that now littered the small field. "Get your men and go before your stupidity gets you all killed."

"It seems I've done something to offend you, yet I don't recall ever having met before," he called out, watching her with confusion and intrigue as she pulled the dagger from the back of the felled man and replaced it in its holder at her waist.

"I wouldn't know where to start listing off things that offend me," she stated dryly, turning her attention towards gathering wood for the pyre to dispose of the fallen men littering the ground.

"If I'm so offensive, why did you come to my aid?"

"So it's true then." She rolled her eyes, turning to face him once more. "You really are so arrogant as to think everything is about you."

"Well, if it's not about me, then what is it about?" Arthur stared at her curiously, raising his eyes in surprise at her cheek.

"Run home and ask your father," she retorted sardonically.

"My father is dead." His jaw visibly stiffened at the jab.

"And the world is a better place for it, if you ask me," she shot back flippantly, her lips upturning slightly at his recoil.

"Take care how you speak."

"Or you'll do what…?" She turned and stared him in the eyes. "You're nothing more than an insolent brat in the lands you stand in."

"I'm positive I'm standing in Camelot," Arthur scoffed, crossing his arms, amusement spreading across his chiseled features.

"An ill-informed, insolent brat. I stand corrected," she laughed dismissively, passing him. "Camelot's border ended a quarter league or so back. Perhaps you can ask Geoffrey or Gaius to provide you with a proper map, or is it still treason to own let alone speak of such a thing in Camelot?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" he snapped, his shoulders stiffening as confusion began to pool in his eyes. "If you harbor such hatred…"

"Oh Arthur, I don't hate you." She looked at him intently, sadness briefly replacing anger in her aquamarine eyes. "I pity you."

"Why would you pity me?" he stammered, shocked and offended at the notion anyone was speaking to him this way.

"Your father did you no favors; he set you up to fail nearly from your birth. You're coddled like a child, living a lie unaware of the basic facts of the lands you preside over. Your ignorance and arrogance is the weakness your enemies and especially your sister exploit - quite successfully, I might add. Tell me… how many lives do you endanger unnecessarily? How many innocents continue to suffer? How many have died due to your inability to listen to anyone but a murderer and a tyrant?"

"You speak treason," Arthur seethed through clenched teeth.

"In whose kingdom? You're in mine, cousin. You think you know it all? You don't even know who I am, let alone where you stand." She flung her arms around, motioning to the carnage littering the floor. "These men were under Morgana's employ. Do you think you walking into an ambush HERE of all places is a coincidence? Do you honestly believe you were the target? They hit their target, you imbecile."

"That's ridiculous. Why would my servant be a target?"

"I'd tell you to ask your father, but it seems he went to the grave a coward. Men like him always do," she scoffed, turning swiftly from the dumbfounded look on his face back to the pyre. "Forbearnan," she whispered, watching as the flames shot several meters into the sky.

"You...you have magic," he stammered behind her, the familiar sound of metal scraping letting her know he'd unsheathed his sword. Turning to face him, she couldn't help but smirk at the expression planted on his face.

"Yes, puppet King, I do, but then every breath you take is as illegal as mine in your bloody kingdom, isn't it not, or did your father leave that out too? Of course he did. Something to ponder: if magic is evil, what are you?" she replied snarkily, holding her hand up and stopping the now advancing knights by freezing them in their tracks.

"I've had just about enough of your lies and insolence, sorcerer," Arthur thundered, his body shaking with anger as his sword flew from his hands, landing several meters away with a thud, and he was frozen in place.

"Merlin looks just like his father, you know." She moved closer into his personal space, her defiant eyes locking with his. "How long before the nobility in your lands and beyond take notice and start asking questions? How long before he starts asking questions - if he hasn't already. I'm not your enemy, Arthur, but nor am I your friend. I offer you courtesy because of the blood we share and my loyalty to his family. By the Gods on the house of de Bois, I am warning you leave this place. Neither of you are safe here, especially ignorant to the truth and stepping blindly into things you know nothing of.

I dare not think what that abomination you call a sister is up to, or what she knows, but know this - he is no peasant and there are many who wish to see him dead or under their thumb. Now that you've been made aware of that fact, do not place yourself in the position to learn the same lesson your father did years ago about how precarious kingdoms sit when his life is threatened. Too many have given up too much in the interest of peace and his safety. Avenging him will leave the rivers running red for a generation or longer."

"Is that a threat?" Arthur seethed, his eyes hardened in an attempt to mask how thoroughly her words were rattling him.

"No," she responded sadly. "It's a promise. Look," she sighed. "His loyalty to you is absolute and, while confusing, that has been respected despite the anger at the station you keep him. However, Morgana knows something, which means others do as well. No good can come from it for either of you.

"Or perhaps you've just got him confused with someone else; you're not exactly offering up more than cryptically veiled insinuations. Why should I believe anything you say?" He struggled once more against the bonds holding him in place, his mind swimming with confusion and uncertainty as she turned away from him and began to walk towards the black mountains behind them.

"He's Merlin Ambrosius." She glanced back to the now subdued king, flashing her eyes amber and releasing him from his bonds.

"Ambrosius!" the young king stammered, his eyes going wide as the sun. He tumbled forward, the jolt of freedom catching him off guard. "Ambrosius as in Aurelianus…?"

"His grandson," she said proudly, glancing toward the young man with the long haired knight frozen at his side.

"You can't be serious," Arthur stammered, going pale, visibly shaken by the name. "Confirm it with Geoffrey or your court physician if you wish. Gaius was present at his birth."

Arthur sucked in the air as her words hit him like a log to his gut, his lungs struggling to replace the oxygen that had been forcefully taken from him. He hadn't even noticed she was gone or that Leon, Eylan, and Percival had reached his side, having been released from their bonds. He could do nothing but stand paralyzed for the second time that day as his world threatened to crash around his feet. In under 10 minutes this woman had given him his best friend back, saved his life, claimed to be his family, insinuated wild accusations, all but threatened him with war, confused the hell out of him, and then all but took his best friend away again. He felt sick.

Chapter 3

"Sire?"

Arthur stared at the fire, giving little more than a grunt to acknowledge the meal the older knight had just passed him. He didn't feel like talking. Funny how only Merlin would have been able to understand that and leave him alone. It wasn't that he wasn't friends with the knights, the men surrounding him were some of the people he trusted most in the world, but it wasn't the same. Merlin could read him; some things never needed to be said between them. Not that he'd ever admit that out loud. Merlin knew when to leave him be and when to push.

"Do you think she enchanted him?"

"He hasn't said more than five words."

"He's upset about Merlin."

"He'll never admit it."

"Why doesn't that boy wear chain mail?"

"There was a time he was so skinny and frail he'd have fallen over in it."

"Well he's not now."

"I'm sure a sorceress healing him has Arthur worried."

"God's she was a beauty, wasn't she? I was ready to wife her as soon as she insulted him then she had to go and use magic."

"She wasn't hard to look at."

"Why are the stunning women witches?"

"Like that'd stop you, Gwaine."

"What do you think she said to him?"

"Whatever it was, he's definitely not happy about it…"

"I can hear you," Arthur growled, not bothering to look over at the four men making a pathetic attempt to speak low as they sharpened their blades and stretched out for the night.

"Sorry, Sire. We were trying not to disturb you. Are you alright?" Leon called out sheepishly, having been caught out gossiping like bar maids.

"I'd be better if I had some peace and quiet," Arthur quipped, shifting against the tree and looking at the sleeping form of his servant. His friend. He couldn't really be a servant anymore, could he? Well, if her information was correct, anyway.

Merlin Ambrosius. How could that be? Nothing in the world made any sense if that was true. Sure he would live, but would anything ever be the same? How do you tell someone they're of noble birth, and not just any noble, but the grandson of his great uncle, the King of Cerniw, who happened to be one of the most respected and loved kings in history? It wouldn't just make him royalty, it'd put him legitimately in line for the throne to his own kingdom should he and Guinevere not conceive a child. None of that made any sense to him; there had to be some mistake.

King Aurelianus didn't have any natural children. He had stormed Camelot and saved his nephews, his father, and younger brother Constans from execution when his grandfather, Constantine, had been killed in a battle with Vortigern and Camelot's throne had been usurped. Having taken his nephews in as wards and raised them as his own, Aurelianus had allowed Uther to use Cerniw's army to reclaim Camelot when he'd come of age. Constans was named heir to Cerniw but died from a plague shortly after Aurelianus's death, so Cerniw's lands were incorporated into Camelot and he was now King of those lands. Everybody knew this. How is it possible that Merlin could be his grandson? That would mean Aurelianus had a child; a son if the remarks about Merlin's father had any accuracy to them. Perhaps an illegitimate son? It certainly wasn't unheard of; he had an illegitimate sibling himself. What would that mean for the lands as they were now?

The worst part was he couldn't, with absolute confidence, discount it. Merlin had never known anything about his father, not even his name. He'd never thought anything of it, but now that he was forced to Arthur had to admit it was odd. Merlin's mother didn't strike him as the kind of woman who would just take a man passing through to her bed, so surely she knew who his father was. Why would she keep that information from him?

Another thing he'd never given much thought to nor acknowledged out loud was the fact Merlin was well educated. He was a peasant farmer, raised in a hut sleeping on the floor, yet he was well spoken, well-mannered when it mattered, and he could read and write as well as any noble. That he could do so from the moment Arthur had met him ruled out any possibility he'd learned it in Camelot. Why had he never questioned that? Why hadn't anyone else?

It was certainly possible that Merlin's father, whomever he was, was an illegitimate son of Arthur's great uncle. It wouldn't be unheard of to put such a child in a village and make sure they were provided for and educated. Then again, no honorable King would leave their offspring in such conditions as Merlin was raised, even if they were Illegitimate.

No, the whole illegitimate theory debunked itself. A King would legitimize a son and put him on the throne to continue his house and dynasty. Aurelianus may have raised Uther and Constans like they were his own sons, but that is not what they were. And yet Constans had been named heir and when he died, the lands went to Uther. Merlin being the illegitimate child of some low- or mid-ranking noble made sense, but an Ambrosius? He didn't see how that could be possible. The sorcerer had to be telling lies, there was no other rational explanation. But to what end?

Everything about this mission pointed to it being a trap, and he cursed himself for falling for it. He'd been told since he was a child the lands to their southeastern border were uninhabitable. Now that he looked back on it, he'd never been there nor had the area been patrolled. He'd nearly forgotten it existed as there was nothing beyond the impassable black mountains but the sea and no villages for leagues. There had been a few missions to the area to sweep for Druid camps when he was a child, but for many years the area had been all but ignored and considered impenetrable. When they'd gotten word of attacks by a magical creature and men turning up missing in a small village nearby, he hadn't hesitated to check the reports out. With nothing backing that area but the sea, the only direction for trouble to move was north towards the citadel.

When they'd arrived, they'd been unable to find a village anywhere, and certainly no sign of any creature. It'd put them all on edge, but ultimately it was so late in the day they had little choice but to make camp and return to Camelot in the morning. At first he had dismissed the notion Merlin was the target, but he couldn't ignore the truth. Merlin had been separated from the group collecting firewood when he was hit by a longbow's arrow. It was the only bolt fired, and whomever fired it was aiming for him. Why would they attempt to take out a servant first before attacking?

Arthur winced as images replayed in his mind. In all the years he'd known Merlin, he'd never experienced terror like he had the moment they made eye contact before his friend crumpled to the ground. The shock on his friend's face that quickly turned to resignation and acceptance had broken him right then and there. He'd stood there paralyzed as grief strangled the air from his lungs, despite the battle that had begun to rage around him. It wasn't until the raven haired idiot, watching his back even as he lay dying, shouted and pointed behind him that the world stopped spinning in slow motion and a feral fury he didn't know he was capable of possessing surge through him. Merlin had been the target. Innocent, insolent, brave and loyal to a fault Merlin. His best friend. Somebody had tried to murder him. He wouldn't rest until he found out why and annihilated those responsible.

"Sire," Leon's voice broke through his thoughts, startling him. "You should get some rest. I'll sit with him and take watch."

"No," he muttered, rubbing his hand over his face, looking around for the first time in what must have been hours.

"He was the target," he finally said solemnly, unable to make eye contact with any of them for fear they might see the emotions saying it out loud had created.

"Sire?"

"It was an assassination attempt. We were led into a trap and ambushed; Merlin was the target. I want two on him at all times. Two on him, two on me and it will be that way until I figure out what the hell is going on."

"Who the hell would want to hurt Merlin?" Gwaine seethed. Arthur had known the man would be consumed by rage once he'd made them aware. For all their differences, he knew when it came to Merlin he could count on Gwaine for backup. Something he was grateful for.

"Someone with a death wish." The two men locked eyes and nodded their silent agreement. Be it a matter of state or stealthy side mission, this would not go unanswered.

"It's no secret you and Merlin have a unique relationship; it's possible someone seeks to use that as a weapon to manipulate you."

"Anything's possible, Leon. The sorceress said they were hired by Morgana. If she is working alone then I'd say likely, but she also said some things I'm struggling to make sense of. If they prove true, it's just as likely she's allied herself with others."

"What kind of things?" Gwaine growled, moving closer to the fire, shooting the young monarch a look that dared him to keep them out of the loop.

"Things that, if true, I dare not speak out loud in the middle of the woods. I know you don't like that answer but it's all you're going to get for now. I won't risk his life by gossiping."

He looked over to the mousy haired man bundled in blankets nearest the fire, still unconscious and pale. For the first time he was not confident he knew everything about the man he'd never admit had become more a brother than a friend. The thought unsettled him.

"Everybody get some sleep. I intend to leave at first light. Gwaine and Percival, take first watch." Arthur sighed before leaning back against the tree stump once more. He needed to get to Camelot, to Gaius, to answers. Sleep wouldn't come easy until he did.

---

Niviane was nine winters when her magic came. Ector was so proud he'd set up a room for her full of magic books and artifacts and promised if she studied and practiced hard enough one day she could be very powerful. Maybe even powerful enough to move through the enchantment over their home. Kay, Ector's 15-year-old son, wouldn't sword fight her with a dulled weapon instead of a wooden one and she'd thrown a tantrum, causing a bottle to explode and sending shards of glass flying everywhere. Initially, it had frightened her, but Ector and Kay had laughed before they hugged her. She had magic just like her father. It was the best day of her life.

Her father had died when she was baby. Everyone had tried to keep the details quiet around her, but as she'd grown up it had been impossible to keep it from her. He had been betrayed and murdered by someone he'd trusted. Her Mother had died from complications during her birth. She was the second born; her older brother was two when he had died in a pox outbreak. She was only a few months old at the time, so she had no recollection of him. His death had hit the kingdom hard. Dragon Lords had been King for centuries and only the first born son of a dragon lord could inherit the gift. Over 20 years later, he was still mourned.

After her father died, Balinor had been named her guardian, and as king he'd instructed her moved her to his castle in Cerniw where she would be fostered. Her own kingdom was much smaller and, through their treaty, Balinor had become regent of Benoic and the two kingdoms had merged into one. When Balinor cast the enchantment, her Uncle had taken over the day to day responsibilities of both kingdoms, despite King Balinor still ruling in absentia, often communicating by raven and other means.

Uncle Ricard had hated the arrangement, so when he was tasked with becoming her caretaker in Balinor's absence, he could hardly be bothered with her. She'd heard the whispers growing up about how jealous he'd always been of her father. Ban was the first born, dragon lord and king, so she could understand her uncle's animosity. They said her mother was the most beautiful woman in the kingdom and was courted by many powerful men from all the lands, but Ricard had fancied her since they were children. People whispered his jealousy turned to hated when her father courted and married her. She'd always taken it as rumors, but as she grew up and people told her how much she looked like her mother, she stopped dismissing it. Ricard could barely look at her, and when he did, the resentment was impossible to miss.

Ector, a minor lord and the court physician, had practically raised her. He was more like a father to her than anyone else and his son Kay was her brother in everything but blood. Kay was overprotective of her to a fault, so it surprised no one when he became a knight specifically to be in a position to do so officially. When she came of age, Sir Kay had stood next to her as she was named Princess Regent, a title King Balinor had insisted go to her if something happened to him.

That was yet another reason her uncle hated her, as she took over the majority of his responsibilities. He was a powerful man with many supporters in the kingdom; even with diminished responsibilities, it was folly to dismiss his influence despite twenty years of being overruled and denied his bid to be crowned King in either Kingdom. The council, court, and citizens were loyal to Balinor without question and completely loyal to her as a result. Her father had been the one to name Benoic's heir, the kingdoms had merged, and she'd grown up in Cerniw as its Princess. She would honor her father's last wish and the treaty he had established before his death. There were a few things she did not agree with, but she'd deal with that when the time came. If it came.

The subject of Camelot had always been a difficult one. Ricard had always pushed for retaliation and confrontation, especially after the great dragon returned to the skies, but he'd been overruled. Uther had sent a communication then, one that had infuriated even Ricard's staunchest of opponents. Things were tense for a while after that. Other than their internal issues, it was the most excitement the court had had in nearly two decades. Ultimately they had taken a wait-and-see approach. Ricard had played his cards well at the time, convincing them that all he wanted was to protect the boy, but she suspected he hated Merlin more than he hated her.

She'd been shocked when she'd intercepted the raven detailing the attempt on Merlin's life. When she'd arrived, the battle had already been raging around her, and she'd been terrified she'd arrived too late. She'd never been in a situation such as that, and even now she was trying not to think too much about it, shaken by it as she was. She'd definitely downplayed her involvement in the battle when telling Kay, Ector, and Cador what had happened. They were angry enough at her for going by herself as it was.

She knew she'd said too much in her anger, but she'd not prepared herself for Arthur. She'd heard so much about both of them from Ector, a result of his older brother being the physician in Camelot's court who had taken Merlin as a ward years earlier. Despite being separated for over 20 years the brothers had remained close, often communicating by raven despite the transport being considered magical and thus banned in Camelot. She thought she'd be able to control her emotions when faced with her mother's nephew, but she'd lost her temper and now Kay and Ector were angry at her for that too. They didn't understand and it infuriated her that she didn't know how to make them.

Merlin was a dragon lord. Her need to protect and defend him was something she'd only felt one other time in her life - the night the great dragon arrived on the rooftop injured because Arthur had shoved a spear in his side. Her entire life she'd scoffed at the idea of the man whose life had been bartered and brokered before he'd even been born, but in that one moment she faltered. She'd felt it tugging at her the moment she'd intercepted the message and knew he was in danger, and she did not hesitate. It wasn't until she made eye contact with him before she pulled the bolt from his side that she'd felt something so powerful it nearly knocked the breath out of her.

He was her kin, he was dying, and she was terrified. And he knew it. There was no way Ector or Kay could ever hope to understand that. It wouldn't matter if she hadn't said a word to Arthur; Merlin would ask questions. By the time she'd come face to face with Arthur after the fighting was over, she'd been so rattled by the whole experience she lost her composure and took it out on him. Looking back, her only real regret was she didn't tell him off more.

"My lady?"

Niviane turned toward the door to see her maidservant Ava peeking through timidly.

"No need to hide, Ava, the yelling is over." She smiled as the young woman who had been with her since they were small came into the room with a smile.

"Did you win?"

"I always win. Besides, they don't understand and they're being ninnies."

"So what was he like?" Ava cocked her head to the side and Niviane couldn't help but laugh at the look of mischief in her maid's dark brown eyes.

"Let's see: he had a bolt in his side, was covered in blood, and looked like he was in pain."

"Oh come on, you know what I mean!" Ava laughed, flicking through the gowns she'd be changing into for dinner.

"I was concentrating on other things, not giving him a once over," Niviane scoffed. "He's ridiculously powerful though, I didn't miss that."

"What happened?" Ava motioned to the chair, grabbing a hairbrush, her eyes dancing with curiosity and excitement.

He'd always been a name, an infuriating name that had been shoved down her throat for as long as she could remember. He'd taken on the persona of a mythical being over the years with the people but he'd never actually felt real. And now she'd seen him in person. He actually existed. Niviane could hardly begrudge her the curiosity.

"We were nearly attacked by one of the assassins from behind while I tended his wound. He didn't incant a spell or move a muscle, but the man was pushed backward into a tree stump and broke his neck. I wouldn't even have known he'd done magic if I hadn't seen his eyes light..."

"You're kidding!"

"No. I still can't figure out how I didn't go flying backwards myself because I was in his line of sight. His eyes just flashed and the man was dead. He didn't even flinch. I've never seen anything like it."

"He's a warlock; they've always said he would be unfathomably powerful," the maid replied wondrously.

"Yes well, I've never bought into all of that, but he's more powerful than I, I cannot deny that."

"Was he at least cute? And please don't roll your eyes at me, my lady, I'm dying to know."

Niviane couldn't help but laugh at her childhood friend.

"I didn't pay attention; it would be difficult to tell, bleeding out as he was." She rolled her eyes as she twisted in her seat to gaze out the window to watch Cador and Galahad leave the courtyard. She worried that she had made the wrong decision, but Cador had been adamant, and right. Silently wishing them luck, her mind returned to the issue at hand as she contemplated how to deal with her traitorous Uncle.

"Ricard is not brave enough to try something like this on his own, and Morgana wouldn't assist him unless she's getting something in return."

"You think it was him?" The maid's eyes bulged at the thought of the scandal that would create.

"I can't prove it, but who else could it be?"

Chapter 4

It was, quite possibly, the first time Arthur had been happy to see the sun peek over the horizon. He hadn't slept at all, despite Percival and Elyan persuading him to lay down and get some rest while they'd taken watch. Gwaine hadn't slept well either; his usual cavalier attitude had turned sullen and irritable; they couldn't reach Camelot quick enough.

The Knights had packed the camp at the first hint of daybreak, and they'd ridden hard all morning, stopping only to rest the horses. Merlin had made no improvement, which worried Arthur significantly. If she'd used magic to heal him, why wasn't he getting better? She had stopped the bleeding, at least externally, but still, they worried.

Gwaine had managed to get some water into the manservant. Merlin had refused to cooperate and drink the liquid until Gwaine threatened to bind him to a chair, force him drunk and leave him to the tavern wenches. The surly knight had become more incensed when the manservant complied, providing a moment of sorely needed levity, in a bad situation.

Arthur exhaled audibly when the towers of the citadel had come into view. More than once they had attempted to check Merlin's wound, but Gwaine would not allow it. He had even renounced his knighthood and threatened them with death if they pushed him on it. They had all heard her instructions, so they didn't take him too seriously, but it rankled that he'd kept to them, despite a weird symbol seeping through the cloth she'd wrapped around the wound. Gwaine had found an unlikely ally in Leon, who both were of the opinion she had not healed him only to curse him. Leon's agreement had initially surprised Arthur, but he'd recalled magic had once saved the older knight's life, so he'd left it alone.

Guinevere was waiting anxiously on the stairs to receive them. He'd sent Elyan ahead so Gaius would have everything prepared when they'd arrived with his ward. His brother in law now stood next to his sister, and a guard with a stretcher was waiting to receive its patient.

Arthur knew he should try and comfort his wife, but he found he couldn't speak when she looked to him for answers. His silent brooding, because that's what Merlin would have called it, had been keeping his nerves in check, so he'd just nodded and focused on the task before him; getting Merlin to his guardian.

The thought of Camelot, without Merlin, was so unthinkable, it had turned his blood cold when he'd attempted to envision it. Just the thought of it had hurt him more than he could conceive or would ever admit to any living person. Arthur had known it the moment he'd seen the silent goodbye in his best friend's eyes, just before he'd fallen; Merlin could not die. Arthur would never recover.

He had spent the last hours second guessing his decision to stand quietly while the sorceress had used, what he now knew was magic, on his best friend. The witch had been adamant Merlin must live, but the king had long lost confidence in her intentions. Morgause had seemed honorable when she had come to Camelot to challenge him, but she'd ended up manipulating him into turning against his father. He realized now he'd nearly fallen for it again when the sorceress claimed to be his cousin and invoked his mother's house. No. Fool me once. He wouldn't believe a word she said. As far as he was concerned, she was the enemy, and she'd done something to his best friend. Rubbing his hand over his face, he motioned his wife not to follow. He knew she would be upset, but he would not risk her if the sorceress had contaminated Merlin. Giving her an apologetic look, he turned to follow Gwaine to the physician's chamber.

---

He'd arrived at the physician's chambers he'd found Gaius staring at the makeshift bandage, a startled expression on his face. The sight sent Arthur's heart lurching to his stomach.

"What did she do to him?" He thundered, his worst fear seemingly realized. It was taking an extraordinary amount of self-control to stop himself from turning on his heels and searching for her to bring her to justice.

"Gaius?" Gwaine prodded also unnerved by the Physician's reaction.

"What happened," Gaius asked, visibly shaken, as he stood frozen in place; A response that was unusual from the old man with a patient in front of him.

"He was shot with a longbow."

"I see that" the old man retorted," looking at the King expectantly for a more detailed explanation.

"We got ambushed in what appears to have been an assassination attempt; Merlin was the target. A woman, we now know to be a sorceress, tended to his wound. She did that," Arthur nodded toward the bandages, watching the old man expectantly. Gaius said nothing, staring at the bandage while gripping the side of the table with an intensity that made the hair on the back of Arthur's neck stand up.

"She mentioned you by name, said you would know what to do with that… thing she put on him. Who is she Gaius, and what did she do to him?"

The old physician said nothing, continuing to stare at the bandage, seemingly lost in thought.

"Gaius?" Arthur prodded, his alarm at the old man's reaction increasing by the moment.

"A large number of people in this kingdom, and beyond, know my name, Arthur." The old man gave a pointed look before turning back to his ward.

"Alright," Arthur conceded through gritted teeth. The old man was withholding something. His reaction to the bandage had determined that. Arthur's fear for his friend increased tenfold every second of the man's silence.

"She knew all of us, actually, by name. She knows an awful lot about us too, especially Merlin. She said she knew his father; seems to think he is Aurelianus Ambrosius' grandson?"

Gaius turned ashen - paler than Arthur had ever seen him. For a moment he worried the old man was suffering heart failure when he began swaying and abruptly reached out to the table to steady himself with visibly shaking hands.

"You went near the black mountains?"

"Fantastic, you've got an idea where this is going already," the king croaked, fighting the bile rising in the back of his throat in response to the old man's reaction. "Who is she and what did she do to him!"

Gaius exhaled slowly, "Was she about your age?"

"She was. Brown hair, blue eyes, and a sorcerer with an atrocious attitude. I cannot stress enough her obsession with Merlin. She was incredibly offended that I'd brought him there."

"Yes, I suppose she would be," Gaius nodded, turning his attention to the bandage. "Remarkable."

"Who is she?" Arthur demanded, the physician's response causing his stomach to lurch into his throat.

"Her name..." the old man sighed, glancing warily at Gwaine and Leon, who had been watching the exchange curiously. "Her name is Niviane Inwudu; she is the only one, that I know of, alive who could have healed him in this way."

"So she did heal him?" Gwaine asked, exhaling with relief.

"Yes, though the last time I've seen this method used was many years ago; she was but an infant. I'm surprised she knows how to do it."

"Knows how to do what? Use magic?" Arthur scoffed.

"No. It is not traditional magic. The leaf she used is from an ancient tree that is said to hold ancient magic within the leaves. It has immense healing properties, though the knowledge, and availability, of those able to use it for that purpose, are very limited. Her use of such a leaf indicates his injuries were beyond healing magic; she saved his life."

"She put her hand on his head and whispered something," Arthur argued.

"A prayer from the Old Religion, most likely."

"Same difference," Arthur replied dryly.

"Not everything in the Old Religion is magic, Arthur. Many, with, and without, magic follows its teachings and seek spiritual guidance from its gods and goddesses."

"Duly noted," the young king rolled his eyes in annoyance. "And the symbol?"

"That," the physician conceded, "is magic. She bound the bandages so the leaf could not be disturbed. The mark is a rune. It is a warning to leave it alone."

"I want it off him," Arthur stated with certainty.

"To disturb it now would kill him, there is little I can do for him, but make him comfortable and treat his blood loss. It will fade as his body heals, only then can I safely remove it."

"I see," he said, unconsciously clenching his fists as he stared at the injured servant. The sorceress had been truthful, about that, at least. The thought didn't make him feel better, particularly given the response to the woman's belief about Merlin's identity. He hesitated for a moment, fearing for the old physician's health if his initial reaction was anything to go by, but he needed to know, almost as much, as he now realized, he didn't want to know.

"Why does she think he's Merlin Ambrosius?"

The old man froze and closed his eyes, but said nothing. Turning his attention to his ward, Gaius lifted the boy's head, and began coaxing the sludge, they all knew to be blood soup, down his throat. The king watched silently, cocking his head to the side as the old man blatantly ignored him.

"Gaius?" He watched the physician intently as he laid Merlin's head down, looked to the floor, and back to his ward.

"Answer the question," he threatened, his voice brokering no argument. Something that annoyed the old man as his eyes turned steely.

"Everybody out! I need to examine my patient." The old man called out, sternly, before he turned back to his ward and began removing the young man's shirt as if the king and his knights were no longer in the room.

Arthur stood gob smacked at the defiance of the old physician. The room was eerily silent for a moment before the Knights began moving around, unsure if they should leave or not. Arthur, however, dug in, staring daggers at the man he'd known and trusted since he was a boy.

"I will have answers," he growled through gritted teeth.

"Then find them elsewhere," the physician barked.

"You will answer the damn question!" Arthur thundered, now livid. His anger at the old man's insolence, a welcome distraction from the dread that had been sitting, like a boulder, on his chest.

"Because he is!" Gaius rounded on him and snapped.

"That's impossible" Arthur croaked, his lungs burning with the breath, he now realized; he'd been holding.

"I assure you, it's not."

"Aurelianus didn't have any children! When Constans died, Cerniw's lands became a part of Camelot." The king insisted, his voice betraying his desperation.

"If you're so sure of the answer, why do you ask me? You know what your father told you, and the curriculum he approved as it was taught to you by your tutors, nothing more. You should be aware, speaking of these matters, according to law is treason, and I'll thank you not to ask me to commit it." Gaius countered more forcefully than Arthur would have ever anticipated from him. "These matters are far more complicated than you realize."

"Care to explain it?" Arthur snapped.

"Not particularly, No."

"Do it anyway, and let my knights stand witness of my repeal of any law that would prevent you from doing so. Speak freely without fear of repercussion."

The king and the old physician locked eyes as Gaius glared at him resentfully. It was enough for Arthur to take pause. In all his life he'd never seen such a look on the man's face.

"Figures that it'd be my lot in life to have matters far beyond my station, land in my lap, just because I have outlived most of those involved. This kingdom nearly split in a civil war over what you're meddling in; you're kicking a beehive, Arthur. Many will want him dead, and many will have their loyalties divided."

"Including yours."

"Indeed, and don't you forget it. I loved Merlin's father as much as I loved yours. I will not be placed in a position to choose between you boys; any more than I would be between your father's. If that equates to treason, hang me."

"This is ridiculous, I've met his mother, I've been to his home." Arthur wheezed, as his world began to spin around him.

"Yes, his mother. Hunith Adhan, Brom Adhan's daughter."

"King Brom?" The King replied incredulously. Any hope Arthur had that Merlin was illegitimate, and thus a commoner had been destroyed by the revelation. King Brom and his father hated each other. Arthur had sent a missive requesting a treaty, hoping his relationship with the old man, or at least his son Prince Andred would be different, but it was returned, unanswered. The man's grandson was his manservant. Somehow, he didn't think that was going to go over well, assuming he didn't already know it. Arthur's entire world began spinning.

"Yes, she was a Princess of Dyfed before she married Merlin's father. Hunith went into in exile, and stayed there, to protect her son, for various reasons. Not everything is always as it appears from first glance, Arthur. Ealdor was patrolled, and guarded, by Cerniw's knights from the day Merlin was born, till the day he left for Camelot, and I wouldn't be surprised if they've been here, throughout the years, keeping an eye on him. In fact, I'm certain of it. You have no idea what you're meddling in, or how he's going to react when he finds out."

"When he finds out! You mean he doesn't know!" Arthur was reeling, though enormously relieved by the confirmation his friend hadn't kept something this monumental from him. He didn't need to look at Gwaine, nor Leon, to know they were bowled over by what they were hearing, particularly Leon, whose father had fought in the war to win back Camelot all those years ago, and had retired early as a result of the injuries he suffered in it. It was something the Knight was proud of.

"No. Merlin knows nothing of these matters and he mustn't. Not yet."

"You expect me to keep this from him!" Arthur bellowed, now as furious for his friend as he was for himself.

"Yes, for now. It's better to ease the boy into it."

"I can't do that!"

"It's for the best."

"He has a right to know!" The king roared, disgusted by the suggestion.

"You both have a right to know many things. That doesn't make it wise to tell you before you're ready to hear them." Gaius snapped.

"That's not for you to decide," the King seethed.

"Arthur!" Guinevere turned the corner breathlessly, her expression betraying how startled she was by the yelling coming from the physician's chambers, and the state of the men within it.

"A company of knights is approaching the gates seeking an audience. They'll be here within the hour."

"Of course, there is," Arthur rubbed his hand over his face before looking at the ceiling and muttering a slew of curse words under his breath. He didn't need to deal with anything else today.

"Don't suppose they've sent a messenger to the gate? Have Elyan..."

"No, but their presence is causing a stir with the people, their crest is… well, Geoffrey says that its… well, he says they're knights of Cerniw? How is that possible?"

Arthur rounded on his father's oldest friend, the look on his face similar to a man just punched in the face. The implications of what that meant, hit him, like a sword to the gut.

"You mean to tell me, Cerniw still exists outside of Camelot!" Arthur's voice cracked as he spat the words out through gritted teeth.

The old man now looked so close to passing out Gwaine lunged forward to steady him, and help him sit down.

"And Benoic," Gaius croaked breathlessly, with weary resignation. "Your father declared war; the mountains are an enchantment, meant to prevent it. Niviane is his regent; she must have sent them."

"Arthur what's going on," Gwen asked fearfully, as her husband threw his hands to his head and began pacing furiously in a circle.

"How many?" Arthur rubbed his hand over his face, struggling, to regain his composure.

"Two, well, that are approaching. There are ten more knights behind them. The scouts are saying there is at least a score, possibly more, coming from the south, in staggered positions," Gwen replied shakily, now near tears herself, as she watched the confrontation happening in front of her.

"Of course, there is. I wouldn't be surprised if the entirety of Cerniw's army is sitting on the border waiting to see what I'm going to do." Arthur spat, turning back to the old man who had taken on a green hue and looked as if he might vomit. He shared the sentiment.

"Will someone tell me what is going on!" The Queen demanded.

"I'll explain later I promise, but for now can you please have servants…."

"I refuse to leave this room until..."

"Guinevere, please," he pleaded, cutting his wife off. Gwaine, I want Merlin protected at all times, this is now a matter of state. Leon, I want him moved into his chambers of his own; Gaius will get that sorted just oversee it and make sure they're secure. I don't trust anything about this situation, nor those men approaching. Until I know the facts, and who has a bounty on him, you two will take charge of his security. Percival and Elyan will ride out with me to meet them, Guinevere, please fetch them, so I don't have to repeat it. Nobody but myself, you four, Guinevere, and Gaius are to know who is in that room and none of what has been discussed here today leaves this one."

"Yes Sire" Leon answered, visibly shaken as he nodded and moved to take his leave.

Arthur stared at his best friend, his heart shattering in his chest.

"My hands are tied. You will inform Merlin when he wakes up, or I will. And then somebody is going to answer every question I have, starting with why my cousin, is my manservant."

---

 

"He will resist you."

"He's an old man." Morgana rolled her eyes at the old woman.

"That is but an enchantment child. You know the answer to the question, yet you continue to waste your time. You must enjoy the path of most resistance."

"What is that supposed to mean" Morgana turned and stared at the wretch absently stirring her cider with her finger.

"You know who he is. Take the bracelet off Morgana; it's clouding your vision. You think she gave you a gift, but she did not. You have the visions for a reason; those are the gift."

"Do not dare speak ill of my sister old woman or I will…"

"You will do nothing child, I may be old, but I am a lot wiser to the ways of the world than you will ever live to be. If you think my age makes me weak tell me why an 80-year-old man continues to beat you?"

"He gets lucky," the priestess pouted.

"Or you're arrogant. Do not underestimate the warlocks power Morgana; it is he who killed Nimueh, it is he who defeated your sister. Both had their magic since childhood and trained their whole lives. Their power far exceeded yours, and he vanquished them. No matter what throne you seek to steal, he will always be your better."

"I'm a High Priestess, he chooses to defy me."

"And yet it is he, the goddess keeps in her favor. You defy him, Morgana. You waste your time on a man you cannot beat, because you have no respect for who and what he is."

"I should strike you down where you stand," Morgana seethed.

"But you won't." Mabeline smiled knowingly at the furious priestess as she stalked out of the cave toward the water. Taking a sip of cider, she shook her head and reached for a quill and parchment.

Catigern,

The tunnels are nearly empty; the witch slowly makes progress though hung up on the irrelevant. She's as dumb and easily led as her father. She is too weak yet to feel its power, but I shall locate it soon. I shall keep you updated.

Mother

Rolling up the parchment, she walked to the window and whistled, her eyes flashing amber, the black hawk flew to her. Attaching the missive to its claw, she nodded at the bird and smiled as it flew away. The sooner she got the bracelet off of the witch the better; she was tired of the woman's insolence. The priestess would get the answer far quicker in her dream state than she would while she was arrogantly awake.

"Silly little girl," she muttered, staring at the raven haired woman pacing angrily by the water.

Chapter 5

Cador's breath caught in his throat when the towers came into view, the flags bearing the Pendragon crest waving in the breeze atop each of them were a majestic sight. The enormous castle had been described to him so many times he had figured it wouldn't affect him, but the description did not do justice to what his eyes currently beheld. The villagers stopped tending the field, the women and children began coming out of their homes to watch their procession. He watched them curiously, intrigued by the reactions that ranged from awe and excitement to fear and in many cases for the younger generations, confusion. He supposed that should be expected, given the circumstances. He didn't envy the young king the position he was currently in, particularly if Ector had been correct in his assertion Arthur was oblivious to these matters, despite Uther's claim otherwise.

Glancing to his left, Cador noted Galahad's expression change from curiosity to controlled as a group of knights, led by King Arthur, exited the gates and made their approach. Cador had to admit he was surprised to see the young monarch leading the procession, and the expression on his lieutenant's face was quickly mirrored on his own.

"You want me to do the talking?" Galahad called to him quietly, his eyes never leaving the approaching men adorned in crimson.

"For now," Cador responded, "until we see how this plays out, anyhow."

The young commander turned his attention back to the approaching men, the pristine towers of his father's birthplace standing tall behind them.

"Can't say that I see the family resemblance," Galahad replied with sardonic amusement.

Cador snorted in response, squaring his shoulders, and trained his eyes on his cousin.

 

---

 

Arthur was not having a good day, in fact in comparison to all the bad days he had experienced; this one ranked up there with finding out Morgana was his sister. Worse, actually. That had pulled the rug out from under him, this, however, threatened to pull the floor from beneath his feet. He knew his father had his secrets and was capable of keeping important things from him, but this went beyond hiding an illegitimate sibling.

Guinevere had been surprised, and rightfully upset that Merlin was not aware of any of this, but also pleased to learn of his change in status. She had quickly begun to busy herself with his wardrobe and making sure his chambers were stocked and fit for royalty. He hated it, and he suspected Merlin wouldn't be nearly as thrilled about the prospect as she was either.

That thought was the one thing that had anchored him in this whole mess. The rest, he could deal with later, right now Merlin was being made a pawn in a political situation, and he was clueless about the details. The only thing he understood at this point was that Merlin had been born in exile, raised a peasant and had no idea he was the rightful heir to the kingdom his father had grown up. In Merlin's grandfather's household, no less. Apparently, the kingdom was behind some enchantment, which Arthur was alarmed by, but he would deal with that later when he could get more information. For now, he focused on getting through this meeting. He knew damn well this could potentially go very badly if not handled carefully, and for Merlin's sake Arthur would not allow that.

Geoffrey had arrived at his chambers within minutes of leaving the physicians, confirming his Great Uncle had a son named Balinor, and Merlin identity was not disputed. He was Balinor's son and heir. The name Balinor Ambrosius seemed familiar to him, but he couldn't immediately place it, so he filed it away for later. Geoffrey also confirmed Cerniw and Benoic's continued existence, and the correct boundaries of Camelot, offering little explanation, only conceding he didn't know what had caused the rift between the kingdoms, or why his father had changed the records. According to the historian, the spat between Uther and Balinor was believed by most to be personal and was still the subject of much speculation within the court, even nearly twenty-five years later. Though the chatter had never occurred within earshot of his father, or himself.

If that was the case, why was Balinor's son here then? Not that he'd hold their father's disagreements against his friend, who didn't even know who he was. It made no sense to him that Hunith would have allowed Merlin to come to Camelot in the first place, or why she had always been so kind to Arthur if their fathers had fallen out so spectacularly. And why had Uther intentionally misled his son, placing him in a position to make a fool out of himself as a result. The king gritted his teeth at the thought before shaking it off. Arthur couldn't deal with that now. Currently, his focus was to protect Merlin, who was going to wake up to a nightmare. For all the betrayal he felt in this, Merlin was an innocent caught up in the game of royals, a game he was entirely untrained to deal with, and Arthur would be damned if he offered up his friend as a sacrificial lamb for the advancement of it.

Elyan and Percival did not have much to say on the matter, not that Percival ever had much to say in any situation. They were surprised to learn of Merlin's royal heritage, but not necessarily his kingdom's continued existence. Neither had realized that was where they were during the ambush, however. That Cerniw still existed outside of Camelot was common enough knowledge that his knights had heard of it, only made him angrier, especially when both had told him they'd assumed he known, and seemed genuinely perplexed that he hadn't.

Arthur regarded the two men adorned in blue and silver as they spoke amongst themselves, though neither turned their gaze from his approach. Both sat stoically on their horses awaiting his arrival; he noted they were about his age, stocky, one with dark hair and the other's light, though darker than his. Their faces betrayed nothing but determination.

"Gentleman," the king greeted as he reached the two soldiers adorned in the livery of the Ambrosius house.

Arthur glanced back at the company of knights flanking them, lined up at an acceptable distance to signal the encounter was not hostile in intentions, but also indicating to all present it could be if it needed to be. He had countered the formation by bringing men of his own, Percival and Elyan were directly behind him, and eight of his soldiers were lined up well behind them. He wouldn't allow this situation to devolve into violence, though walking into this mess blind made him far more anxious than he'd admit to anyone.

The dark haired knight with bright green eyes nodded in response to his greeting.

"I'm Sir Galahad, this is Sir Cador," he tilted his head toward the dirty blonde next to him. "I assume you know why we are here?"

Arthur nodded, "I'll go out on a limb and say it has something to do with Merlin."

"It does," Galahad agreed curtly.

"You've brought more than a score men into my lands, without my permission, surely a messenger would have been more appropriate and less confrontational." Arthur raised his eyebrows at the knight; he assumed to be the commander.

"You led him into an ambush meant to result in his death, orchestrated with the assistance of someone in your court. Considering the threats, Uther made against his life, not three years ago; it's only the fact you now sit on the throne, that we're not here by the thousands to secure his release."

Arthur snapped his head to the blonde, their cobalt eyes locking and the king knew with certainty, Sir Cador was, in fact, the commander. No knight would interrupt their superior in such a way, particularly during a confrontation with a foreign monarch that involved the safety of their own.

"My father's actions were his own. Merlin is not a prisoner held against his will, and if there is someone in my court consorting with Morgana, I will try and execute them for treason."

The two men continued to stare at each other, and Arthur refused to be the first to look away from the man. "That said, I know Merlin, but I do not know you, and neither does he for that matter. I'm not inclined to hand him over to you, particularly while he's injured and unable to speak for himself."

"And I'm not willing to turn even one of my knights around until I've ascertained his condition, and secured his person." Cador countered with confidence that slightly unnerved the king, but also commanded respect.

"He is under the medical care of my personal physician who has ensured me he will make a full recovery."

"I'm well aware of your physician and his skill in medicine, and while I'm relieved to hear it, that is something I will need to determine separately from your word."

"You realize Merlin doesn't know…" Arthur countered exasperated, by this entire confrontation.

"That is between him and his parents. He is injured and currently at the mercy of a kingdom that has been aggressive towards him, his family, and his nation. I will not move my men, and they will continue to come until I've secured my prince, determined his physical condition, and ensured he has proper medical care."

"My father may have been, but I have never been aggressive towards him, his family, nor Cerniw, and I'll thank you not to accuse me otherwise."

"No, you've just had him drawing your bath and washing your britches for the year you've been King and the months previous to that when you were Regent. It also does not negate someone within your court conspired to commit regicide against him."

Arthur blanched, internally at least, not that he'd let either knight in front of him know it. It was the truth, and they had every reason to take Merlin's position as his manservant as an aggression committed against him. His ignorance would absolve him, but that would only make him appear weak, and untrusted by his father. Something he was not about to display to this man, who was staring at him with an intensity that made Arthur guess he'd been waiting to do this for years. Cerniw knew his station in Camelot, and they were highly offended by it. What and when Arthur, or even Merlin, knew mattered little to them.

"If you'd like to provide me with information regarding this individual, they will be brought to justice. I would never tolerate an act of violence against Merlin, no matter his station, which was corrected the moment I became aware of it, even if you lot had not shown up."

"If that is true, then I may be willing to pass the missive that was intercepted to you, once I've been taken to my Prince, confirmed his condition, and he is under the protection of his guard, as is the customary protocol for his station." Cador raised his eyebrow at the King, and Arthur cursed under his breath.

He was going to have to let them in, as much as he didn't want to and had hoped they would return to where they came from; he knew it was too late for that. Cador had backed him into a corner, and they both knew it. Begrudgingly Arthur couldn't help but respect him for it, though it didn't make him feel better about it. By acknowledging Merlin's correct station, Arthur had legitimized their demand to be taken to him. Denying access to Merlin at this point would be an act of war. He knew it, and Cador knew it as well. He had no doubt Cador would make that call, right then and there if needed. His father may have been ok with that, but he wasn't. Even if Merlin didn't take the throne, which he surely wouldn't, this kingdom was his friend's heritage. Hell, it was a part of his own. He'd rather not condemn his nor their lands to war for any reason unless he had to. And he knew damn well Merlin wouldn't want a war any more than he did, especially not one fought over him.

Through gritted teeth, Arthur responded, with a slight nod of his head. "Two of my most trusted and highest ranking knights are currently assigned to his security. You may choose two men to join them. The remainder of your knights must return to Cerniw immediately. "

Cador nodded his approval, finally breaking eye contact he turned to the knight next to him and nodded for him to give the order to the men behind them.

"Galahad will accompany me, once we've determined Merlin is safe and have him secured; they will return to Cerniw immediately, peacefully, and without incident."

Arthur nodded, as Galahad retreated behind them to give the orders to the knights flanking them.

"You're the commanding officer." Arthur looked at the stocky blonde impressed despite himself.

"I'm the commanding officer." Cador agreed, his mouth turning up slightly.

The king nodded his head pursing his lips into a smirk. "Well played," he acknowledged as he turned toward the citadel and began his return with with the two knights behind him.

He was used to people staring when he'd entered the gates, as he moved through the town toward the courtyard. Often people would stop and stare, sometimes waving, or watching with interest if they'd arrived with an injured man. The comings and goings were often a source of gossip with the people. He'd gotten so used to it; he barely paid attention to it anymore. This time, however, as they came into view everyone who was there to witness it stopped what they were doing, and watched the procession that included the two knights of Cerniw as it made its way to the castle. The sound of hushed but furious conversation following in their wake.

Arthur wished he'd asked them to take off their livery. Though he knew to do so would have offended them, and he didn't need that headache right now. He might have been able to make the case that by doing so they would not draw unneeded attention to the situation, but he'd realized people had been lined up by the outer ward watching, so it didn't matter. The entire kingdom knew these men were here, whose livery they wore, and seemed to be waiting with baited breath to see what was going to happen. Which means they probably all knew more than he did too, which did not make him feel better about the situation.

The sun had already begun its descent below the horizon. He was tired, hungry, and had a splitting headache. It was madness to him they'd only arrived back in Camelot with an injured Merlin a few hours ago. Which meant these knights had left Cerniw, nearly as quickly as he had, or had ridden all night.

Arthur handed the reins to a servant and instructed him to take Cador and Galahad's horses as well before he led the men up the stairs, to find George waiting for him. Because, of course, he was. The gods hated him this day, and the absurdity of it all made him nearly laugh out loud. Arthur promptly assigned the man to Merlin and took some satisfaction he'd have his payback for all the trouble the idiot had caused him today.

Chapter 6

The muffled sound of voices close enough to vibrate in his head, but too far away to understand assaulted him as a wave of nausea washed over him.

"Ugh," he moaned softly, fighting his way to consciousness fairly sure wherever he was, was, spinning. He tried to remember as he struggled to make his mind and wake up. Sensing movement beside him, he shifted towards it and found himself awarded with a throbbing pain in his side. An onslaught of memories assaulted him, of the battle, a strange woman speaking in... the battle.

"Arthur!" Merlin croaked, his voice cracking from disuse and exhaustion.

"Calm down my boy" Gaius murmured beside him. Squinting against the light the warlock glanced around the room for a moment in confusion.

"Arthur?" he whispered again, blearily pushing himself up against the pillows, wincing at the sharp pain that stabbed him in the side.

"He's okay Merlin, everybody is fine, you're back in Camelot. Now lay still," His exasperated guardian pushed down on his wards chest and settled next to him.

"Wha? What happened." the warlock's body went slack with relief at the confirmation of his king's safety.

"I was hoping you could tell me that, my boy."

Merlin closed his eyes to stop the room from spinning, "was mountains, but not mountains...Prat… never listen… a girl… dragon, where m' I?" the warlock mumbled drowsily.

"Go back to sleep Merlin," Gaius prodded, "you're still healing."

"M 'up" the warlock shook his head, "a girl, used magic…"

"Yes, she saved your life," the physician reached for a draft and tilted his wards head to pour it down the warlock's throat.

"Arthur?" the warlock inquired, and Gaius wasn't sure if he was worried if she'd harmed the king, or if he feared the king had hurt her.

"He's okay, Merlin, and so is she. Arthur hadn't realized what she'd done until she was gone. And she didn't use magic on him."

Merlin nodded and relaxed once more, seemingly satisfied with the answer.

"She spoke dragon..." Merlin whispered, the weight of his eyelids betraying his determination to remain awake.

"Yes," Gaius nodded, though his eyebrow had reached the top of his head in classic Gaius fashion.

"How?" the warlock slurred waging a battle with consciousness.

"Stubborn boy we'll have plenty of time to talk about her later. For now, sleep." But the warlock had already lost the fight as his eyes closed and sleep once again consumed him.

Gaius leaned back in his chair, pensive, and watched as Merlin settled back into his slumber. He wasn't entirely sure his heart could take this. Over 20 years of secrets and lies; he feared the boy he loved as if he were his own would hate him before it was all over.

---

Druid's refused prophecy or Emrys, Court confirms Ambrosius's oblivious as suspected. Arthur leads him to the border. He'll be dead in the hour. Hopefully both. We delivered your turn. MP warns you not to delay.

Arthur flipped the scroll, provided to him by Cador, in his hands after re-reading it for what felt like the hundredth time. He'd sent Percival to the Druids to try and learn more about whatever it was the cryptic message referred, and hoped he was successful; that didn't stop him from obsessing over it, though. Sighing, he tossed the missive back on his desk, next to the stack of books Geoffrey had brought for him.

He'd locked himself in his room shortly after taking the two knights, Cador and Galahad, to Merlin's new chambers and made the introductions to Gaius as well as Leon and Gwaine. Gwaine had been thoroughly unimpressed, at least initially, by the situation and the men who had arrived to take over his friend's protection. Arthur had prayed to every God and Goddess he'd hold his tongue, and thankfully he did, but only just.

Leon had been more amenable and ultimately convinced Gwaine to stand down. He chalked that up to Leon's grandfather having been a high-ranking Knight of Cerniw in Aurelianus's army. Manafort, Leon's father, had come with Uther when they waged the war to return the Kingdom to the Pendragon dynasty. Leon's family had been in Camelot ever since. Leon held great respect for the men, brotherhood, and kingdom they represented. It was a big part of his heritage, and he suspected finding out those lands were not part of Camelot like they'd been taught had been almost as big of a shock to the tall knight, as it had been to Arthur.

It was entirely petulant and unkingly for Arthur to be bothered by Leon's reaction to the men, and especially Cador and Galahad's response to him upon learning who his father and grandfather were. By that point, Gwaine was intrigued, and Arthur left, returning to his chambers to, as Merlin would call it, sulk.

The Knights had seemed to recognize Gaius as well. Apparently, Gaius had been born and raised in Cerniw and had come to Camelot with Uther. The physician still had family there, including their court physician, who was his brother. His parents had been physicians in Aurelianus's court. Why didn't Arthur know this? It seemed to be common knowledge to everyone but him. Was he that oblivious to the lives of the people around him? The fact Gaius had a brother or parents at all was weird to him, but when he tried to explain it to Guinevere, she laughed at him. Merlin would have understood and agree with him wholeheartedly on the weirdness, even if he'd known that information already.

He'd taken for granted the people in his court would not have ties to anywhere but Camelot. It never occurred to him it was possible they would. Even Merlin was not from Camelot, though apparently, he technically wasn't from Essetir, either. To Arthur any consideration that Merlin had ties elsewhere was… well, it just wasn't done. He'd even somehow managed to co-opt Ealdor as part of Camelot in his mind, though he knew it wasn't. In many ways, he'd done the same for Gwaine, Percival or even Lancelot, before he died, despite not knowing much about where they had lived before crossing paths with him.

Nothing existed outside of Camelot for him, so it was jarring to realize that did not hold true for others. Of course, he knew that mindset was never sustainable, considering his father had only gained the kingdom back a few years before his birth, even his father had ties outside of Camelot. Many in Uther's court had grown up with him, in Cerniw, and followed him here. In his defense, though, he'd thought Cerniw and Camelot were merged, so loyalty to Cerniw was loyalty to Camelot as it was the same lands. That whole part of this mess was confusing and jarring for him when he tried to separate them. He was as proud of Cerniw's history as he was of Camelot's. He'd never viewed them separately. But they were separate, and clearly not on the best of terms. It felt like an identity crisis, though he'd never voice that out loud.

He'd brushed off Gaius's warning about split loyalties as absurd initially, but that changed very quickly. He now understood how and why the court could have split, nearly resulting in a civil war when the two kingdoms fell out. It would be foolish for him to take it lightly now. Not enough time had passed for any of those ties or loyalties to be forgotten. Quite a few members of his council were relics from his father's court, which gave a new and unsettling perspective on their silence.

If the two kingdoms were at such odds, why would his father have allowed them on his council or as his advisors? Why put their sons in his army? It made no sense.

True to his word, Cador had ordered the remaining knights to return to their border, so that aspect of the situation had been resolved peacefully. Cador made it clear Cerniw did not wish hostilities with Camelot, but would not hesitate to respond to hostilities against them. Something Arthur had no intention of doing. He and the knight had come to an unofficial truce on the matter, but both considered it binding as a matter of honor, at least until Merlin woke up and could speak for himself. He was still wary of the situation and both men, as much as they were wary of him, but they conducted themselves honorably, and he and his Knights did the same.

They two knights were now posted outside of Merlin's door with only Gaius having full access to his ward. Their demands were proper if it was any monarch, but this was Merlin, so it was awkward for everyone. Arthur understood Merlin would need to be told of his identity, and how delicate the situation was. The restrictions Cador had placed on access to Merlin's room so that Gaius could turn his life upside down, gently, and in private, was wise. Did not mean he had to like it, though.

It bothered him they thought he was a threat to Merlin, of all people. His wife had fathomed that out but kept silent about it. Merlin would never stand for it if he were awake, which gave him some small satisfaction. He hoped he was there when the insolent former manservant told the knights off. If there was anything that kept him going through this disaster, it was the knowledge Merlin was going to be more miserable than he was. A miserable Merlin was a mouthy Merlin. Usually, that vexed him, mostly because it was always aimed in his direction. He was really looking forward to seeing Cador on the receiving end of the man's mouth. Arthur snorted out loud at the thought, made better by the fact Cador couldn't tell Merlin to shut up.

Arthur glanced at the stack of books Geoffrey had left for him and sighed. If there was anything in these books that told what happened, he had not yet found it. At this rate, it was likely he never would. One thing it did find, however, was his father's blatant lies. Not only did Aurelianus, have a son, but he'd become very sick in the year before Uther came of age. It was Merlin's father, acting as his father's Regent, Ban Inwudu, Uther, and Constans, that had marched Cerniw, as well as Benoic's, armies to Camelot to liberate it from the usurper, Vortigern. They'd done so utilizing the battle plans Aurelianus had spent years creating, and training them for nearly a decade, to carry out. Crowning Uther King and presiding over his parent's marriage, was one of the last things Aurelianus had done. He passed away in his sleep a few weeks later in his beloved Cerniw, making Balinor it's King.

He couldn't conceive a circumstance that would cause his father to rewrite history by omitting and tweaking so many details. To then call it treason, and execute anyone who spoke otherwise, as Gaius and Geoffrey both had insinuated, mystified him. There was no honor in that. There had to be more to it, and Arthur was determined to find out what that was. One thing was sure; his father knew damn well that Cerniw was still there behind those mountains, and he had gone out of his way to leave his son ignorant, armed with nothing but fiction about the kingdom's borders, and it's history. And Arthur resented it.

The subject of the mountains was one that none seemed to want to broach. Geoffrey had disappeared back into his hole, promising to try and locate any remaining texts, but he knew the stuffy old man was hiding something. So was Gaius for that matter. The notion infuriated him. He had called the physician out on it, but Gaius had insisted Merlin deserved to know some things before he did. He did not agree, but left it alone, but only because Merlin told him everything, so he was aware that information was forthcoming.

Given all the evidence before him, he'd come to the conclusion magic was legal, or at least tolerated, in Cerniw, and its sister kingdom Benoic. He has to admit that made him uncomfortable. It wasn't unheard of in other parts of the lands; Helva still permitted the use of magic and several other kingdoms, especially in the north and west, did as well, but they were not on his border. Cerniw was. Gaius had at least confirmed his suspicions, confirming magic's legality, though, according to the old man, the majority of its residents, and its knights did not have the ability.

He had found one account, in the records Geoffrey provided, indicating there had been a major crisis in Cerniw as thousands of refugees began flooding into the kingdom, inundating it, and leaving Cerniw with severely strained resources. That was about the time his father had declared magic banned in Camelot. He couldn't be certain of it, but if those refugees were sorcerers, it might make sense a kingdom that tolerated magic, would request magic to stop the mass migration. It might also account for tension if Camelot's new laws had caused the situation. Left unchecked those type of refugee numbers could destroy a nation by bankrupting it of resources alone. If they were all magic users, fleeing his father's purge, that would have been an additional consideration; Even if they were sympathetic to sorcerers. It's one thing to tolerate magic; it's another thing entirely to allow your kingdom of mainly non-magic users to be overrun by its practitioners.

Of course, it was all speculation at this point, but it's the only thing that made any sense to him. It was extreme, but he had to admit, at least to himself, if he had the ability to stop Morgana and her ilk from entering Camelot, he'd probably at least consider it. Magic or not.

Gaius and Geoffrey had played dumb about the subject. One thing he had learned was he could not trust Gaius nor Geoffrey to offer him any information they didn't want to give him. If he was honest, he didn't trust anyone at this point and viewed all the information provided as potentially tainted by bias and split loyalty.

That brought him back to Merlin. Merlin was the only one he could trust entirely, and his loyalty to Arthur and Camelot was unimpeachable. No matter what was going on with those knights and the heritage, he didn't second guess that fact for one second.

Arthur looked up startled from his thoughts by the knock, as Leon peeked around the door.

"Merlin's awake and he took it badly; you should probably come."

Arthur exhaled loudly, nodding his head in acknowledgment as he jumped out of his chair and strode towards the door.

"How badly?" Arthur asked, concerned for his friend.

"He's gone..."

Chapter 7

Merlin opened his eyes to the sound of Gaius snoring. Looking around the room in confusion, he caught sight of his mentor in a large oversized chair, his chin resting on his chest. The warlock considered waking his mentor if only to save him from a crick in the neck such a position would unquestionably cause. It hadn't been necessary as soon as he'd attempted to sit up, the old man's eyes darted upwards and met his.

"Arthur?" Merlin questioned, his shoulders tense as he considered the weird surroundings he now found himself. He remembered waking up previously and being told of his king's status, but it was hazy, and he wasn't sure he hadn't dreamt it. Rather than wake his guardian up, he had intended to slip out and see his King for himself.

"He's in his chambers; I'm sure he'll stop by later."

"I woke up before right?" He clarified, attempting to settle his confusion.

"Yes, but you were barely coherent," Gaius confirmed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, his features clouded by resignation.

Merlin nodded at the confirmation as he looked around the strange room, noting he was in a four poster bed, not unlike Arthur's. That along with his surrogate father looking as if he'd aged ten years, in a few days, set his teeth on edge.

"They're your chambers now Merlin; Arthur gifted them to you for life," Gaius responded to his ward before he could even ask.

"He did what?" The warlock's eyes widened as he pushed himself up and made to get out of the bed, thwarted by his guardian rushing to his side and pushing him back down onto the feather pillows. The warlock looked at his mentor as if he'd grown three heads, and promptly determining he was still sleeping, hallucinating, or something was very wrong.

"Slow down; you've not yet fully healed, and I need to check your wound." The old man turned away and grabbed some supplies and a tonic, which he held out to the servant to drink.

"I'm not tired…" Merlin shook his head, knowing his guardian too well to fall for that trick. "What is going on?" Forehead furrowed, the warlock steeled himself for whatever answer he might receive as he watched his guardian close his eyes, and cast his gaze to the floor.

"Fine, I'll go ask Arthur," Merlin grunted with exasperation, once again pushing himself upright.

"Why don't you tell me what happened and we'll start from there," Gaius once again pushed him back into the bed, ignoring the protest and indignation in his ward's eyes.

"Arthur's a prat. That's what happened. You'd think after all these years of me being right he'd at least consider listening to me."

"Merlin," Gaius chuckled at the boy's irritation with his king, well used to these rants over the years.

"And don't tell me one day he will, because I was sure I'd run out of days for a minute there. " Merlin huffed, watching the physician's body language carefully in an attempt to fathom him out.

"Well lucky for us you haven't. What happened?"

"We ran into villagers during the patrol; they said they were fleeing a creature stealing men out of their homes and taking them into the mountains. They didn't have any belongings and looked like they had been waiting for us. It was all very fishy, the prat even agreed, but you know Arthur, so we went." The warlock rolled his eyes, as Gaius snorted in agreement.

"I could sense powerful magic the further south we went. I must have sounded the fool because until we got there, I could not see mountains, and made that known to anyone who would listen. Whenever people refer to them, I've always thought they were so far south that they were not visible, but they're there. I couldn't see them until I was close enough to them to realize it was an enchantment. They're not real mountains Gaius, there was forest beyond them, and a village not far beyond it. Then we were attacked." He chewed on his bottom lip as awaited an explanation from his surrogate father, who sat pensively beside him.

"The mountains are a powerful enchantment, meant to keep outsiders from entering the kingdoms beyond it. It was only intended to be temporary, but it's lingered for decades." Gaius nodded at the boy, lifting up his shirt, and carefully began removing the bandaging around his middle. Merlin hissed as he poked and prodded the angry purple bruising covering his side while staring at the jagged wound, now closed, but still inflamed, with fascination.

"Remarkable," he murmured, as he applied salve to the wound and re-wrapped it, in more traditional bandages.

"Why?" Merlin prodded, wincing as he worked, bringing the old man's attention back to the conversation.

"I've heard many a tale about the reasons, but I believe it was intended to force a cooling off period, before committing the lands to war."

Merlin nodded, not bothering to attempt to hide his confusion.

"There was a woman. She used magic to stop the bleeding, and I thought she spoke in dragon tongue, but I must have been hallucinating. I was dying, I don't know much more than that. Next thing I remember is waking up here, in guest chambers with you telling me Arthur gave them to me, dressed in these." The warlock looked down at the sleeping shirt he wore noting the fabric was far too expensive than he could afford, before looking back at his guardian for an explanation.

Gaius kept his silence as he completed his work on the boy's side and leaned back in his chair and nodded, an odd expression etched on his face.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" the warlock questioned with alarm. "Did she do something to me? To Arthur? Is he enchanted? Is that why I'm in these chambers?"

"He's not enchanted," Gaius murmured, "I don't suppose I can talk you into a tonic to help you rest, you'll need to spend another day or two in bed yet."

"No, not until you tell me what hell is going on?" The warlock demanded, his jaw set in determination as he tried to work out what Gaius was keeping from him, because whatever was going on, Gaius was intentionally dragging it out.

Gaius raised his eyebrow at his ward and nodded. "The girl. Her name is Niviane Inwudu, she's the princess of a kingdom called Benoic, but she was raised in Cerniw when the two kingdoms merged."

"Right?" The warlock scrutinized his mentor, waiting for him to continue.

"The mountains hide both Benoic, and Cerniw behind it, to keep people out."

Raising his eyebrow curiously at the names of the hidden kingdoms, he interrupted, "I thought Cerniw became part of Camelot when Arthur's Uncle died?"

"That's Uther's versions of events, but not an accurate one. It's thought they put the enchantment up to keep Uther out of the kingdom. You were in Cerniw when attacked."

"We didn't cross the mountain, or whatever it was, we stayed on Camelot's side." Merlin corrected watching his mentor curiously, the old man's body language causing his guard to remain up.

"No, the mountains begin where the caster stood when the enchantment was created, not the borders. You were in Cerniw."

"Ok… So she's the Princess? And she has magic?"

"Yes," Gaius agreed.

"And it's on the border to Camelot? Well, I suppose that explains why there's an enchantment there to keep Uther out."

"Yes," Gaius nodded again, with a smirk. "Her father, King Ban, was a dragon lord, she's his eldest and only daughter. It's not likely you were hallucinating if she spoke to you in the tongue of dragons. Your dragon lord heritage is most certainly one of the reasons she came to your aid."

"Daughters can talk in dragon tongue?" Merlin's eyes widened as he realized the pull he had felt to her was him recognizing her as kin.

"Just the eldest, no different than only the eldest sons can become Lords. The daughters have unique abilities to heal among other things. She used her gift to heal you."

"Is that why I can feel her, don't ask me to explain it because I can't." Excited by the revelation of not being alone in his dragon heritage, he leaned toward the old man anticipating any information about her he might offer.

"It wouldn't be surprising you feel a bond, like you, she is the last of her kind, but I believe what you're feeling is the tinche leaf she used to heal you. It is said they grow in and around dragon's nests, and the dragons laid their eggs upon the leaves. I confess to knowing little about them; your first-born ancestors have always protected that knowledge from outsiders, even within their families."

The warlock grinned, excited to learn that knowledge and hopeful he'd be able to find out more. "She's the last?" he faltered, his happiness tempered by resentment for the old king. "Uther targeted them as well?"

"They have extraordinary healing abilities, Merlin, with anyone, but it has been said they can heal a dragon from the brink of death, and believed they could treat the lords as well. Given your condition when you arrived here, I no longer doubt it. It would have been impossible for Uther to weaken and kill the dragons if the daughters still lived to heal them, he went after the girls first."

The warlock shook his head in disgust.

"She has been kept protected and hidden all these years. Your father saw to that. Many have given up much to protect her, and the heritage you share, no different than they have for you."

"My father?"

"Yes."

Merlin studied the old man, trying to work out his father's involvement, beyond him being a dragon lord himself. He was eager to learn more, despite his earlier unease now returning in spades.

"Your father and hers were good friends and grew up together."

"My father was friends and grew up with a King?" The warlock looked impressed and interested in this new bit of information about the man he longed to know better.

"He was friends with many Kings, Merlin."

"I must see her again," Merlin determined, his curiosity about her stronger with this new knowledge.

"I have no doubt you will, her appearance saved you from certain death, but it also tore the lid off a crypt of secrets far too long kept."

"What do you mean?" he asked hesitantly, his smile faltering as resignation made its way back to the old man's face with such intensity it made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

"Your father never mentioned anything at all, about her, or Cerniw?"

"No," he shook his head sadly. "I think he was trying to say something, but I couldn't understand it before... I didn't have a lot of time to talk to him."

Gaius nodded and closed his eyes for a moment, accepting the answer and met the warlocks gaze once more.

"I don't know what he intended to tell you or what he did not, but there were many things he probably should have, and it seems that will now fall to me to do so."

"Tell me what?" Merlin pursed his lips apprehensively.

"You need to know that keeping this from you was never my choice; it was never my intention to lie to you even when you asked me to promise, but I'm a simple man with no say in matters larger than me. After your father's death, your mother insisted you were not to be told until you came of age, not before."

"My Mother? Came of age? I've been over 18 summers for nearly three years now."

"Arthur had his coming of age ceremony early, at Uther's insistence. He changed Camelot's law to accommodate that, but that is not valid in other Kingdoms. You come of age at 21.

Merlin stared at his mentor; his eyebrows raised in his best imitation of his guardian.

"I live in Camelot."

"But you are not a citizen. You may be of age in Camelot, but you are not of age anywhere else, until your anniversary on Mid Summers Eve.

"Ok, so even though I'm in Camelot, I'm not of age, for a couple of fortnights?" he clarified.

"Yes, but these matters can no longer wait until that time."

"Just say it," he urged quickly losing his patience at whatever his surrogate parent was trying to tell him being drawn out much longer.

"You must understand how much danger your life has truly been in and how much everyone has given up to keep you safe."

"Spit it out" Merlin recoiled and stiffened. He'd seen this look on his mentor's face before, and he didn't like it one bit.

"Well, to begin with, your parents were married, and Balinor knew he had a son."

Merlin gaped as his mentor, his mind turning things over as he recalled their meeting. "No. He didn't know he had a son; I was there he was shocked."

"No, Merlin, he was aware he had a son, your name, what you looked like, and where you were. Engerd is less than an hour to Ealdor on foot, he watched you grow up from the shadows and maintained close contact with your mother. He wasn't going to tell you or anyone else he had a son until he was certain you knew already, or you were not in danger."

"I was there Gaius; I saw it on his face, he didn't know."

"He did not need to return to Camelot with you to call the dragon off Merlin; surely you know that by now. I believe he called the dragon after you left, and after getting confirmation of the danger you were in; he went after you."

Merlin shrunk back into the bed his eyes going wide in realization. Why had his father returned to Camelot? Ge could have called the dragon to him to stop him, and would still be alive today if he had. Merlin stared at his mentor fearfully, "you're about to turn my life upside down again aren't you?"

"Yes my boy, and I'm sorry for it, truly I am. As I said, you were in Cerniw when you were injured, The Ambrosius dynasty has ruled the Kingdom for over a thousand years."

"Right," Merlin eyed the old man warily "I work for his great-nephew Gaius, I am aware of the basics."

"You're aware of Uther's basics, which say Aurelianus didn't have a son. He had a son, and that son became King, I believe he cast that enchantment to prevent Uther forcing his hand starting a war over the purge and to protect Niviane from being hunted during it. Aurelianus Ambrosius, and his son after him, were also dragon lords.

"Wait a minute," Merlin looked at his father figure incredulously, "Didn't Uther grew up there in Aurelianus household?"

"Yes"

"The man that raised Uther, that Uther considered to be his father and taught Arthur to worship because he embodied everything about being a great and honorable King, and a noble knight was a dragon lord?"

"Yes" Gaius nodded, and Merlin knitted his brow together.

"And Uther knew that?"

"Oh yes."

"I'm confused." Merlin shook his head incredulously.

"Uther hunted and slaughtered every other dragon lord, apparently their first born children, and the dragons. And he did this while erecting a statue of a dragon lord in his courtyard while teaching his son to respect and revere him?" Merlin was astonished, and the hypocrisy of it infuriated him.

"Yes. Aurelianus was Uther's uncle, the dragon lord heritage is also his own. Uther's father was the second born son. Aurelianus and Constantine's father was a dragon lord. It's where the dragon comes from in Pendragon. Kilgharrah sits upon the Pendragon crest."

Merlin sat silent for a moment and considered the irony of it, unconsciously clenching and unclenching his fists, trying to make sense of that bit of information.

"Arthur's great-grandfather was a dragon lord." Merlin clarified, exasperation lining his face.

"Yes," Gaius nodded "Aurelianus's son, who was now King, and a dragon lord, cast the enchantment, but I believe he did so under duress. Uther had attacked him and his party, his wife was gravely injured, and he'd fled with her, and Niviane, whom he'd taken as his ward after her father died and she was orphaned. His wife had sustained injuries that were too severe for her to make the trip back to Cerniw, so he deviated and left her with a healer hidden in a small village just outside of Camelot, in Essetir. The king then left his wife behind, and raced to Cerniw's border, handed the child to a soldier instructing him to return her to the castle, and cast the enchantment to block Uther and his army, who was now advancing, from entering and enacting his purge in Cerniw's lands. "

"Right." Merlin stiffened at the mention of Essetir, furiously trying to work out where this was going and fighting the overwhelming sense of foreboding he now felt.

"From what I understand, and I can't be certain so don't take it as a fact; the enchantment had left open a window enabling he and his wife to pass through it after she was cleared medically to complete the trip. He then returned to the small village to nurse her back to health. But the window for that return closed before they could return because the queen was found to be with child, and that, along with the other injuries she had suffered made it far too dangerous for her travel through the duration of her pregnancy."

"Rotten luck," the warlock raised his eyebrow, silently urging his guardian forward.

"Yes," Gaius agreed, locking his old and weary eyes with the young dragon lord in front of him.

"So he locked himself out of his kingdom?" The warlock questioned.

"It's believed he had the ability to return, being King, and that he did so on some occasions. Eventually, they learned some ranks within his army could come and go through a loophole, and as King, he was by default a knight, so it applied to him. But nobody else, including his wife and child, could pass through the border. He spent the majority of his time outside of his kingdom, keeping an eye on his family, and protecting his heir. A dragon lords first born child is nearly always a son. If a dragon lords first born son dies before he does, or the dragon lord dies without a child, his line ends. The Ambrosius line is the longest running and most respected in history, going back till the beginning of man. He wouldn't risk his line ending, not even for his kingdom."

"Ok, as enlightening as this history lesson is - and it is enlightening, what does all of this have to do with me?" Merlin demanded, his entire body tensing as the old man winced in response. He pondered, terrified, where the old man was going with this, and fearing he already knew.

"That village he left his wife, where his son was born and raised, was Ealdor, Merlin."

"Ealdor?" Merlin stiffened blinking rapidly before meeting eyes with the old man, who had shrunk back and now stared at him apprehensively. Feeling as though he'd just been punched in the chest, it took him a moment to fill his lungs with air. Merlin gripped the side of the massive four poster bed to ward off the dizziness and gaped at his guardian hoping for some clarification to prove it false.

"What are you saying, Gaius?" he croaked through clenched teeth, his voice barely audible.

"You were raised a commoner Merlin, but you were not born one, you were born in exile."

Merlin shrunk back for the old man and closed his eyes considering what being implied, and wholly rejecting it.

"No." Merlin shook his head knocking the old man's hands away as he reached out to try and steady him.

"You're wrong; my father had enough time to tell me that. There were plenty of places for him to mention it in the conversation I did have with him. I refuse to believe that. Even if he died before he could, My MOTHER would not have kept that from me."

"It was too dangerous Merlin."

"No. I don't believe it." Merlin shook his head violently, "My Mother would have told me; she taught me to keep my magic a secret, what you're implying would have been simple by comparison. I'm certain she would have told me I was... I was exiled…" the warlock shook his head furiously.

"Merlin. Someone figured out who you were and where you were at. They used your and Arthur's ignorance against you, set you up for an ambush, and made an attempt on your life. The bolt that hit you was the only bolt fired, it was aimed at you. Arthur is adamant that you were the target. Your Kings guard arrived in Camelot shortly after Arthur brought you back from Cerniw, to protect you."

"My WHAT?" The warlock nearly fell over, his eyes turning to saucers as he gaped at his guardian.

"That is why you are in these chambers; that's why there are knights here wearing the livery of your house. You are Merlin Ambrosius and the heir to your father's kingdom."

"You're lying" Merlin wheezed jumping out of the bed and began stalking toward the door, ashamed of himself as soon as the words had left his mouth, but he couldn't help himself. If this was true, every aspect of his entire identity was in question. The whole foundation of what made him who he is was a lie. He watched with horror as the old man he loved so much recoiled at his words, but still, he continued.

"I don't know why, maybe you're enchanted or something, Arthur clearly is if believes this rot and gifted these chambers to me. I almost fell for it, but I think this woman has bespelled all of you, and I'm going to get to the bottom of her enchantment and put an end to it because this cannot be true," he practically begged.

"Merlin, nobody has been enchanted."

"My mother would not lie to me Gaius, not about that. I can see her wanting to protect my father, and keep who and where he was from me as a child, out of fear I'd seek him out and expose us both. Because I would have. You can't expect me to believe she would lie to me about my entire life. I love you, Gaius, I do, but that's asking too much of me, if there was a line, asking me to believe this crosses it." he panicked praying his guardian would tell him this was a joke and getting nothing but a sympathetic look in return.

The warlock huffed in exasperation, spinning on his heels and swinging the door to the chambers open, bringing the dragon lord face to face with a dark-haired man with bright green eyes, that immediately went wide. A tall man with dark blonde hair also turned to face him, both men dressed in chainmail and blue capes.

"Sire," the green-eyed knight exclaimed sending Merlin stumbling backward clutching his side as he stared at the two men in shock.

"Merlin" Gaius spoke gently behind him moving to be in a position to catch his ward in case he fell over.

Merlin threw his hand to his head, his magic roiling, and no outlet to release it; items began rattling on the tables, as he gaped at the men in disbelief. The silver dragon, wings spread in flight with fire raining from its mouth on their capes sparked a cascade of memories, each assaulting him violently. A man with the dragon inked on his arm bringing supplies to his mother, the book his mother kept hidden under her bed with the symbol stitched onto its cover matching the pendant she kept around her neck. The most jarring of the memories were of the cape; he'd found the royal blue cloth in her box of private belongings when he was eight and had snuck out to show it to Will so they could play soldiers. His mother had never been that angry at him before and he'd gotten switched on the bare bottom for the first time in his life. The same cape draped around the shoulders of these men now staring at him apprehensively.

Merlin barely registered Gaius voice calling his name with alarm and felt the old man grab his arm, causing him to flinch before he bolted for the door, despite the two men blocking it, who now seemed intent to stop him.

"Get out of my way," Merlin hissed locking eyes with the green-eyed knight threateningly, whom immediately froze, nodded and stepped back leaving him to stalk down the hall and out of sight alone, his mentor's voice instructing someone to get Arthur echoing in the hallway behind him.

Chapter 8

"Me Mum says it's true, reckons they here for his boy, heard from Bertie they been keepin him locked in the dungeon fer years, and gon be war if the king doesn't give him back to the knights. Jacob says he's..."

Merlin's tenuous hold on his magic slipped with every word out of Tyr's mouth. He counted the portly stable hand as a friend and enjoyed the conversation, but at the moment he was ready to throttle him. He loved the stables, provided he wasn't mucking them out, but right now he couldn't get out of here quick enough. The warlock wasn't stupid, he knew Tyr and the others who worked with the royal steeds hoped he would let something slip, given his proximity to the king, but he wanted nothing to do with the subject.

He knew he must have looked a sight; he was in night clothes fit for a noble, in the middle of the evening. No matter what he did or said, there was no way he would avoid becoming part of the gossip that had likely given the Rising Sun it's best days of business for the year as people congregated to share theories over a pint. He found he didn't care, at least not at the moment. The warlock's magic itched beneath his skin with a degree of intensity that scared him. His magic was instinctual, often tied to his emotions, and it was rising to the occasion. He knew he'd shattered something back in those chambers, and everyone present had witnessed it. Merlin needed to be alone before he completely lost control of it and somebody got hurt; before he became the monster he always feared.

His side throbbed, and he'd had enough training in medicine to know he should not be out of bed, or at least not lifting anything heavy, but the pain grounded him. Right now that was more important than anything, especially when the last topic he wanted to hear about was being blathered in his ear by a garrulous stable boy who couldn't take a hint. Still, he'd rather sit here and listen to Tyr prattle than be anywhere near his guardian at the moment, so wormwood was out of the question. He didn't know what to think about anything, and whenever he thought of his mentor the pain in his chest was more excruciating than his side.

He'd become so absorbed his task he hadn't noticed the stables had grown quiet until he'd turned around to grab his saddle and found Gwaine leaning against the wall, his head cocked to the side watching him quietly. Merlin paused locking eyes with the surly knight before yanking the leather seat from the wall, stepping beyond the knight to do so. The warlock grunted as he shrugged away from his friend's hand, who had reached out to steady him as he winced under the weight, reminding them both he was still injured.

"Where are we going?" Gwaine grabbed another saddle off the wall, seemingly having made the decision to accompany the warlock, rather than stop him.

Merlin stiffened but continued his work of securing the seat to the now agitated courser, hoping his friend would get the hint. Saddle secured, Merlin reached for his pack and found himself nose to nose with the rogue as he returned upright. Realizing his friend intended to impede him, his entire body began to shake as he struggled to sustain the very little control he had over his magic at the moment. He feared for his friend if he didn't let him go; they didn't understand, and he couldn't explain it to them. He had to leave. The further away from Camelot he was at the moment, the better it was for everyone, at least until he got ahold of himself.

Contrary to popular belief he was not a child, and the attempt to babysit him just irritated him on top of everything else. He REALLY needed to get out of here. Gwaine wasn't getting the hint either, apparently. He wasn't sure what made the errant knight think it might be a good idea to grab his arm firmly and physically attempt to stop him from mounting his steed, but Merlin lost his temper, rounded on his friend and shoved him backward.

"If you have ever held me in any regard, you will leave me be," Merlin spat the words through clenched teeth as he stood face to face with his now very concerned and startled friend.

"We're your friends Merlin," the rogue murmured, locking eyes with the warlock.

"Then be my friend, and leave me be." Merlin practically begged him.

Gwaine hesitated a moment before he nodded slightly, and stepped backward. He could feel the man's concerned eyes on his back as he climbed on the horse and bolt toward the gates. He'd apologize to Gwaine later, right now he needed to leave. Merlin had no doubt the knight would immediately go to Arthur, and the King would throw his entire Kingdom at stopping him, which made him more determined to reach the forest beyond the gates before he had the chance. The last place he needed to be was anywhere near Arthur in current condition.

---

Arthur paced furiously in the chambers he'd given the young man, who was now missing. How on earth he was surrounded by such incompetence was beyond him. Merlin was injured, and who knows where running around the castle without protection. Gaius looked rattled, which gave Arthur further cause for concern, increased by the fact he'd nearly run into George when he'd entered the room because he was furiously sweeping up shards from a shattered looking glass. Arthur had punched out one or two of those in his lifetime, but he'd never thought Merlin the type, let alone capable. Merlin could be anywhere, bleeding profusely from the hands, still injured from the attack, and they'd just stepped aside and let him walk past them.

"He's in shock Arthur; you can hardly blame him for being upset." Gaius reasoned, shakily seating himself on the four poster bed, his ward had occupied only minutes earlier. "Attempting to detain him is not going to help the situation. He will not appreciate it."

"I don't blame him, I'm mad for him, that doesn't change the fact he's got two guards standing outside this door and he just walked past them and left!" Arthur turned to the olive-skinned knight standing inside the doorway regarding Camelot's king with irritation.

"He's my sovereign," Galahad replied defensively. "When he orders me to get out of his way, I will stand down no different than any of your knights would if you so ordered."

Arthur stared at the ceiling "This situation is unbelievable," he muttered.

"He didn't just leave. Cador followed after him at a safe distance to make sure he's not ambushed or attacked. I only stayed because we agreed to keep you..."

"Cador is just one man." The king snapped at the knight cutting him off. He didn't give a damn about protocol or propriety at the moment. They were talking about Merlin, not a bloody king. He didn't care whose son or grandson he was. He was fed up with this entire ordeal. Merlin was MERLIN for gods sake, and these men didn't even know him. He'd been stupid to allow them to take charge of his security. He'd known nothing of their abilities or their competence, and they'd just let him walk out.

"And he's also one of the most skilled swordsmen in the land." Galahad shot back.

"How would you know? You've been locked behind magic mountains!"

The man's green eyes narrowed warningly, "He was trained by his father, who was taught by King Aurelianus, no different than yours " Galahad seethed, the tension between the two men increasing by the second.

"He's Constans boy?" Gaius raised his eyebrow, though it was more of a statement than a question.

"He is," Galahad confirmed never taking his eyes off the king. "And should you ever doubt the skill of Cerniw's Knights again take care to note Constans Pendragon trained every man that now trains the knights personally since they were old enough to hold a wooden sword, myself included."

Arthur's eyes grew wide snapping his head to the physician exasperated.

"Leon's grandfather trained the Knights," Gaius explained, "Aurelianus only personally trained Bal, Uther, Constans, and Ban. Ban's son died when he was two. I'd heard Constans had a boy, but I didn't realize that young man was he."

Arthur silently seethed. So much for his uncle dying as a teen and without an heir then, and the old man had known that too, and kept it from him. Cador Pendragon was his cousin. His Uncle Constans skill with a blade was legendary; he'd heard many of the older knight's remarks of it growing up, so he had no doubt his son would be formidable.

"It doesn't matter." The belligerent King shook his head, resisting the urge to throw the old man in the stocks for keeping that from him, Geoffrey too for its absence in the records, and turned towards Leon, who was looking at the physician with interest at the mention of his ancestor. "I want him found, and the gates notified he's not to pass."

"Should we bring him back?"

"You intend to hold him against his will?" Galahad squared his shoulders and reached for his gauntlet practically daring the king.

"I intend to make sure he's not running off by himself, injured with a bounty on his damn head." Arthur was ready to toss his own gauntlet at the infuriating man's feet for daring to think he knew better about anything regarding Merlin than he.

"You know; I didn't know Merlin had it in him to look intimidating enough to make an armed man think twice about engaging him. It's quite impressive."

Galahad snorted in agreement with the errant knight now standing in the doorway studying the two men near to blows in front of him.

"Where is he Gwaine?" Arthur spun towards the door, in no mood for the man's impertinence.

"He was in the stables, just left actually." Gwaine looked pointedly at Camelot's monarch.

"And you didn't follow him because?"

"He told me if I ever held him in any regard, I'd leave him be. The way I see it, you're not me, and I can't refuse a direct order from the King, so anytime you're ready Princess…" Gwaine stepped aside smirking as Arthur, Leon, and Galahad filed out of the chambers past him, leaving Gaius and a bewildered and rattled George behind.

---

You were born in exile heir to your father's kingdom.

Merlin had ridden hard, at least two to three hours, until his side throbbed so much he knew he would have to stop or possibly pass out. He was mentally and physically exhausted. Having replayed his entire childhood through his mind, he made more connections to the symbols on the two men's cape and tried to understand what would compel his mother to be so dishonest with him as to deny him the truth of his identity. What the hell was he supposed to do now? How could he even face Arthur now? He had no idea what to say to the man, or how to act. Or anything honestly. He didn't even know who he was anymore.

Quickly securing his mount he made his way through the brush until he found a clearing, and screamed to the skies, pacing anxiously in a circle as he awaited the dragons arrival a few minutes later.

"You seem upset young warlock." The giant dragon peered at him curiously.

"Was my father a King?" The warlock demanded furiously.

"Ah," the dragon lifted his head slightly "so the time has finally come."

"Don't toy with me, who am I?" Merlin warned.

"It seems you already know who you are, that you're upset by this baffles me."

"I've had a lot tossed in my direction since you interrupted my sleep and sent me on this path all those years ago, but royalty? Absolutely not. Why would you keep that from me." The warlock shook his head furiously, pacing in a circle.

"That your royal heritage has been revealed to you can only mean it is time."

"Time for what?" he shot back to the dragon incredulous.

"Time for you to know and move toward your destiny, young warlock."

"My destiny is to protect Arthur." His eyes widened with exasperation; the rules didn't get to change in the middle. What the hell was the infuriating beast playing at?

"You have many destinies, as does Arthur. Each will bring you closer to the destiny you share."

"Yes, I help Arthur unite Albion by making sure he lives long enough to do it." The warlock argued what had always been his understanding of their roles.

The dragon snorted, "That is one aspect of your destiny, yes, but not the only one young warlock. You cannot escape what you are."

"And what is that exactly?" he fired back caustically because he didn't even know the answer to that question anymore.

"You are a King."

"You can't be serious" he jeered staring up at the ancient beast. "I have no desire to be a King, not even a noble, I've got enough on my plate."

"I have been beside your family faithfully and loyally since Erco Ambrosius hatched me and gave me my name thirteen centuries ago. The blood of some of the greatest and most honorable men to ever walk this earth runs through your veins, and it has been an honor to share their triumphs, and their defeats, young warlock. Your desire means little. You are a Dragon Lord, and you are an Ambrosius, and all that embodies. Do not imagine you will ever flippantly dismiss who and what you are in front of me. "

Merlin visibly deflated, "I'm not dismissing anything, I am proud of who I am, more than you know, but that's not the point."

"That is exactly the point. Your ancestors have tended these lands since the time of men began. Your heritage may have been unknown to you, but it is not to your people. You've always been meant to stand beside Arthur as his equal, not behind him in subjugation. Few, myself included, would tolerate the continuance of such an arrangement indefinitely."

"I was raised as a peasant, not a King; that's Arthur's lot in life, not mine. You can't be telling me I'm meant to take that throne."

"Fate twists like a river bending to the environment, but it always finds its way to the sea, Merlin. You and Arthur are both bound to the hidden kingdoms as surely as you are bound to Camelot. Whether you like it or not, the path to Albion leads through Cerniw, and you are her King."

"So I'm supposed to be a King now, I don't know the first damn thing about being a King!"

"You are a King; you always have been. As Emrys or as Merlin Ambrosius it makes little difference to those who serve you and rely upon you for their protection and the security of their future, and the future of their families. You have many names, many titles, but you have always been who and what you are from the day you were born."

"Unbelievable." he muttered feeling a panic attack beginning once again as he began to pace in a circle.

"How am I meant to protect Arthur if I'm supposed to take a throne in another kingdom? You understand that requires me to leave Camelot? "

"Maybe, maybe not. The answers in the past often open doors to the future, Merlin; you will find your way."

"I'm in no mood for your riddles."

"Be that as it may, I will not give you the answers. You and Arthur must follow this path."

"And how do you propose I do that without Arthur learning of my magic? He met my father, for all I know he's already worked out I'm a dragon lord, my magic won't be far behind it."

"That has always been your fear, not fates; he will learn when it is time for him to know."

"Somehow that doesn't make me feel better." The warlock muttered rolling his eyes.

"You have more pressing matters to concern yourself with, young warlock. You need to be very careful, the witch plots to play a dangerous game."

"What kind of game?" Merlin sighed with resignation, of course, Morgana was up to something. When wasn't she? He almost welcomed the distraction of her treachery given the current circumstances. Almost.

"She has many games; it's her last resort that concerns me. She may seek to gain something that will cost you more than you can bear to lose."

"And that is what exactly?"

"Heed my warning Merlin; you must take care she does not enchant or entrap you. A single seed and she will gain an unfathomable weapon against you and Albion. Should she succeed you must kill her even if it destroys you to do it."

"What kind of seed?"

"Promise me you will not fail to kill the witch this time; she is eviler than you can fathom."

"I promise. There." The warlock snapped tossing his arms in the air in exasperation. "Now that everything is clear as mud I can walk away from this conversation feeling so much more at ease and peaceful."

Kilgharrah snorted, smoke escaping from his giant nostrils as he stretched his wings, casting his golden orbs toward the forest behind them.

"Take care of our King, Pendragon; I leave him in your care." Merlin froze, the blood in his veins turning to ice as he whipped his head toward the woods with dread, expecting to see Arthur behind him. Instead, he found the blonde knight that had been outside the chambers adorned in that damn blue cloth, nodding his head; astonishment, and awe lining every feature of his angular face.

"PENDRAGON!?"

Merlin spun back to Kilgharrah incredulous as the now amused dragon inclined his head. "My Lord," he chuckled as launched himself into the sky.

Merlin watched him fly off into the distance, disappearing over the white mountains in shock before he spun back wide-eyed toward the knight who had quickly advanced to him.

"PENDRAGON!?"

---

Arthur was going to kill him. He was going to kill him for leaving, kill him for leaving alone, and then kill him again for being so careless as to rip through the trees leaving no doubt his path. Anyone could track him. Arthur had taught him better than that.

The king moved forward through the woods ignoring Gwaine, Leon, and Galahad behind him. He'd spent the last days locked in his room hiding from this entire mess, and now he had to face it, and Merlin, head on. He couldn't reconcile any of this mess to Merlin no matter how hard he tried and the more he did, the angrier he got about it. Merlin had just been thrust into something he was neither prepared nor trained for. Did blood alone make you qualified? Even if he wasn't a peasant, he was raised as one. Other Kings would see this as a weakness they would try to exploit. Merlin could barely swing a sword properly, how could he lead an army? The man didn't even like hunting for food…"

Arthur shook his head, letting the thought fade before he made himself sick with worry over it. The whole thing was unbelievable. Of course, he'd taken it badly. In many ways, he could understand how someone as docile as Merlin could get so angry it'd catch Gwaine, of all people, off guard. Which, if he was honest, unnerved the hell out of him. Merlin was typically the cool head in the worst of situations; it was one of many things Arthur had come to count on about the man. Sure Merlin had gotten angry a time or two, but not the calm, cold fury Gwaine had described. Arthur had no idea how to deal with that.

The direction they were moving in was toward Ealdor. He knew where Merlin was going, and he knew why. He just didn't know what he was going to say to the man, or his mother when he got there. Or Cador for that matter, assuming the knight had caught up with the former manservant.

Cador was his cousin; apparently. He had to learn that being told off by one of Merlin's knights. Merlin's knights... Arthur shook his head in disgust; that's the third family member he'd been made aware of in the last few days. When Geoffrey had brought the accurate genealogy records he'd been hiding; Arthur confirmed Niviane was his Mother's eldest sister Elaine's daughter. Elaine had died in childbirth shortly before he was born. He hadn't even known his Mother had siblings other than the traitorous Uncle that mysteriously disappeared a few months ago. His mother not only had a sister, but she also had another brother named Tristan. Arthur knew nothing of the man, only that he was dead, and his destroyed and empty crypt was below Camelot. Something he'd gone and seen for himself. The king was still waiting for an explanation, though none seemed to be able, or willing, to give him one. He suspected Gaius knew, but he was already so angry with the old man he didn't trust himself not to lose his temper, so he let it go, for now. He found himself doing that a lot lately.

"It's getting too dark we should stop here for the night catch up with him in the morning," Gwaine called out.

"Go ahead," Arthur called behind his back making no move to stop.

"Arthur, we won't be able to see his tracks and then we could lose him."

"He's going to his Mother's…"

"No, I'm not, and Gwaine's right," a familiar voice called out stopping him in his tracks. Arthur spun his head finding Merlin; watching them inquisitively, leaning against a tree well off the path.

"Are you mad!" The king shoulders sagged as relief surged through him so violently it had made him dizzy for a moment, followed quickly by his temper.

"Probably." The warlock deadpanned raising his eyebrow slightly at the king's display.

"You could have gotten yourself killed." The king jumped off his horse and stomped through the woods toward the raven-haired idiot, as Cador stepped out from behind another tree and eyed him cautiously.

"I'm not a helpless maid Arthur," the warlock rolled his eyes, "I needed some fresh air, besides, I've got Cador here. He followed me too. Apparently from the minute I left the room, so he had a head start."

"I don't care, you don't just go stalking off by yourself" Arthur barked as the four knights watched the confrontation, Cador, and Galahad both holding their hand on the hilt of their swords just in case, despite the fact the outburst did not faze Merlin.

"Aww Arthur, were you worried about me? The warlock raised his eyes and cocked his head to the side, though all traces of amusement one would usually find on his face didn't reach his eyes.

"I was NOT worried about you."

"No, of course not, you're just mother-henning me for the hell of it while alerting every bandit in Camelot of our location," Merlin provoked sardonically.

"Damn it, Merlin; you're my responsibility if anything had…"

"I'm a grown damn man!" Infuriated the warlock cut him off, the two men staring at each other for a moment before the warlock scraped his hands through his hair and down over his face, turning on his heels Merlin stormed off into trees, slapping a branch in frustration as he did so.

Arthur watched him walk away, his frustration giving way to concern, the king closed his eyes and cursed under his breath. Arthur waited until his friend finally settled beside a large oak, nodding at his men to set camp, and followed him.

Chapter 9

---

"Are they always like that?" Cador turned to find Galahad behind him, the dark-haired man as perplexed by what they had just witnessed, as he was.

"Like that? No," Leon grunted pulling down both his and Arthur's packs to begin setting up camp. "Merlin will be alright, if anyone can talk him down, it's Arthur."

"What makes you so sure," Galahad queried as Cador turned to his and Merlin's packs, casting his eyes curiously to the two men now talking quietly.

"They're good friends, but if you can get either to admit it, the ale is on me," Gwaine laughed stretching himself over a log.

"So the stories say," Cador muttered, turning to lay out Merlin's bedroll, frowning at the lack of supplies in the man's pack. He hadn't even bothered to stock it before he'd stormed out of Camelot.

"But you don't believe them?" Leon raised his eyebrow pausing in his task collecting wood for the fire.

Cador did not want to have this conversation, nor was it appropriate to do so. He'd gotten on with Leon, and held great respect for the man's family, whom were still well known and respected back home. But Leon was Arthur's man. There had been moments he'd wondered how much the knight knew, and he guessed it was more than he was letting on if his reaction to their arrival had been anything to go by. But he couldn't be sure, so he held his tongue.

"We may have differing opinions on what constitutes as friendship, is all," he finally offered, relieved when the man nodded and departed into the forest to hunt with Galahad behind him. Gwaine was another matter entirely, and he could feel the man's eyes on his back as he lit the fire, though thankfully, he said nothing.

There had been a plethora of stories over the years about the two princes, and the unlikely friendship they'd forged. Many had dared to hope peace would result from it, but Uther had crushed the notion in the message he'd sent after Balinor's death. Not that the tyrant had a rich history with honesty, but given the circumstances, and the contents, it was unlikely he was lying this time. Either way, the seed of doubt took root, and none could be certain Arthur was not just playing a role to give Merlin a false sense of security. Well, none but Ector, who had long insisted Uther was deceitful, and Arthur knew nothing of Merlin's identity or Cerniw. Niviane and his son Kay were Ector's only allies on the matter.

Everyone knew Ector's source of information was his brother, whose split in loyalties had become a thing of legend, so it was all taken with a grain of salt, or discounted entirely. Cador wished he could join Niviane and Kay in their optimism, and for a short time he found himself falling prey to it, but then Arthur had become King, and nothing changed. He'd knighted commoners, married a serving wench, and left Merlin skivvying after him. None could offer an explanation for Arthur's continued passive aggression towards Merlin, not even Ector. As far as Cador was concerned, Arthur knew damn well who Merlin was, and had done for years. Any notion Uther's son was not manipulating Balinor's to protect his interests and defend his kingdom while keeping an Ambrosius under his thumb as a trophy, was illogical. That was the biggest reason he had not revealed himself to Camelot's king. Cador was proud to call Merlin family just based on their blood, and his loyalty to Merlin's father and grandfather, but Uther's son was entitled to nothing from him. If Arthur wanted that he would have to earn it, by proving him wrong.

The back and forth between the two had been something one would need to have seen to believe, and he was glad to know he wasn't the only one thrown off by it. Galahad had been caught off guard as well, which made him feel better about his bewilderment over the look on Arthur's face when Merlin had walked away from him. Arthur was a good actor or actually gave a damn, and Cador couldn't be sure which. He had no idea what to make of his cousins or their relationship, but for a brief moment, he'd felt that hope he'd forcefully stamped out when Arthur became King, spark in his chest once more. He knew he'd be far more cautious about letting it take flame this time; he didn't trust Arthur as far as he could toss him, but he could not deny his curiosity about both men either. In a different life he, Arthur, and Merlin might have been raised as brothers just as their fathers had been. He couldn't help but wonder how much different life would have been if that had been the case? His life would have been much easier, anyway, and no matter how hard he had it, things had been unfathomably worse for Merlin. Cador still fumed over the injustice of it on Merlin's behalf. Only Arthur had lived his life unaffected by the fallout of his father's treachery, and while he knew that wasn't Arthur's fault, it still rankled.

---

"I'm sorry… I just…" The warlock shook his head in frustration as the King took residence on the mossy floor beside him.

"There's a bounty on your head, Merlin. I know you're upset, but you shouldn't have just left like that."

"I had to get out of there. I couldn't breathe."

Arthur nodded, staring out into the trees, a companionable silence settling between them. He couldn't fault the man for it; there had been more than one occasion he'd been overwhelmed by something and left the kingdom to think. Of course he always took Merlin with him and called it hunting, but it counted. He didn't know what to say to his friend to make him feel better, he was completely out of his element, but he knew he should at least try to say something.

"You all right," the king finally asked, wincing as the words left his mouth. Of course, he wasn't alright. Merlin was so much better at this than he was.

"I've had better days," the warlock raised his eyebrow and glanced at him quizzically, before returning his attention to the blade of grass he was furiously twisting between his fingers.

"You were going to your mother," Arthur bit his lip and tried again.

Merlin nodded his head once, "and as soon as I realized it, I stopped."

"How come?"

"Is this where we pull out petticoats and have a…"

"Merlin this is serious."

"You think I don't know that?" Merlin snapped his eyes toward the king before sighing and turning back to the forest. "I don't know what to say to her."

"I'm sure she had her reasons..."

"It wasn't just her. She'll just say she wanted to keep me safe; believe me, I've heard it all before." The warlock shook his head, flicking the mangled blade of green into the forest beyond them.

Arthur studied him curiously, the response intriguing him far more than he would like to admit. "It's strange, so many believe you to be in that much danger."

"I've known that since my earliest memories," the former manservant snorted. "Be aware of my surroundings, look over my shoulder, keep to myself. I don't even think about it anymore; it is just a part of who I am. If you teach me to know I'm in danger, what is the purpose of keeping all the reasons from me?"

"I don't know," and Arthur didn't, as much as he wished he did. The secrecy made no sense to him either. He understood the lessons. As odd and unbelievable as it was, Merlin's father was a king, which granted him power his son was now entitled to.

"Sons of powerful men inherit their father's enemies. Being in a Kingdom afforded me protection. For whatever reason, you didn't have that. Just because you didn't know who your father was, doesn't mean his enemies don't know you exist. You're a problem to anyone vying for his power; whether you want it or not."

Merlin nodded; a scowl firmly planted on his face. "I met my father once, just briefly before he died."

"I thought you said you hadn't?" Arthur spun his head, startled by the revelation.

"I hadn't then. It was a few years ago. Gaius told me who he was as I was getting ready to leave one morning. The next day we were attacked; he threw himself in front of a sword to save my life. He died in my arms."

Merlin tossed the now mangled leaf on the ground beside him, his eyes narrowing bitterly. "The whole time he was right there, less than an hour's walk to Ealdor, watching me grow up from the shadows, and nobody saw fit to tell me. It was too dangerous. It was necessary to keep me safe."

Arthur watched his friend quietly as he tapped his head lightly against the bark of the tree behind him, rocking his head in disgust. Arthur had opened up to Merlin on more than one occasion, but he realized now Merlin had never really reciprocated, at least not without Arthur having to make a point of dragging it out of him. Even then, it was kicking and screaming, and he'd never gotten more than a generalization. The manservant had never been an open book, he had long ago realized that, but he hadn't paid attention to how tightly closed that book was until now, and he regretted it. The more Merlin talked, the more fascinated he was by the rare glimpse into Merlin's life.

He tried to imagine learning his mother had been alive his whole life, and everyone he knew and trusted keeping that from him, only to find her and lose her a day later. The thought knocked the wind from his lungs. Surely Merlin had taken that badly, but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out when it had happened. He had noticed Merlin's upset about less severe issues, so he couldn't imagine he hadn't noticed, and yet, it seemed, he hadn't. He studied the man, pensively staring out into the trees and once again found himself at a loss for words.

"I'm sorry," he finally offered, as the warlock glanced at him startled by the sound of his voice.

"It was a long time ago," Merlin offered, smiling slightly in appreciation of the sentiment before he turned back to the tree he had been staring a hole through.

"I asked Gaius if anything else had been kept from me, and he lied to my face." The warlock stiffened, balling his hands into fists, "I put myself in danger every time I get on a horse and follow you out of the kingdom, and I have done for years. I don't offer that information to my mother because she'd worry herself into an early grave, but Gaius? Never once has Gaius objected. What right has he to keep that or anything from me and then blame it on me being in danger and keeping me safe? "

"He doesn't have the right," Arthur bit out scathingly, his eyes narrowing at the turn in subject matter. Arthur recognized Merlin's fury and knew it matched his own. The common ground between them reassured him. If nothing else, he could relate to this. "I have to believe he means well, in his own misguided way, but he has more secrets than any man has a right to have, and no business or right to keep them. Especially after my father died."

"You're angry at him too," they both knew it was not a question. Arthur pursed his lips and nodded, as the warlock watched him expectantly.

"For over a year he kept his silence knowing I was making decisions and running the kingdom based on information that was fiction. Any enemy is going to see that as weakness. Of course, they are going to exploit it. If I cannot trust my advisers to inform me…" the king shook his head resentfully. "As much as I hated the things she said, she did me a favor opening my eyes to it."

The corners of Merlin's eyes crinkled in confusion, and Arthur realized he did not know any of that, he had been unconscious.

"The woman that put that thing on you. She hates me, called me an insolent brat among other things. I haven't even had the chance to process it all."

"I'm sorry I missed it," the warlock smirked waiting for him to continue.

Arthur snorted at the thought of Merlin missing out on him getting told off, by a girl no less.

"You'd have loved it; she was very upset you were injured and of course blamed me."

Merlin sniggered, raising his eyebrows, and grinned for what was probably the first time that day.

"She is out of your league, Merlin."

"Technically I don't think she is."

"She's my cousin."

"Nobody's perfect."

"Merlin!" the king laughed, in exasperation.

Flashing a grin, the servant tossed a rock at a nearby tree and chuckled. "I doubt she hates you, she could have said nothing, and we'd still be oblivious."

"There has to be a reason my family despises me."

"They don't, Your father maybe, but not you. They don't even know you."

"Tell that to Morgana."

"Morgana's issues are with your father. Hurting you and sitting on that throne is her way of getting back at him."

"Maybe. Did you know, Cador, the knight that was with you, is my cousin too?

"That I did know," Merlin nodded, "he told me he was Constans son when I reacted to his last name."

"That's more than he said to me, I only found out just as we were coming out here to follow you. He's hardly spoken a word to me the entire time he's been here; his father could still be alive for all I know."

"Well if it makes you feel better he hasn't said much to me either, introduced himself and that's about it."

"You've only just woken up; he is your cousin too, and he wears your livery."

"We're cousins?" Merlin deadpanned, his eyes rounding in mock disgust. Arthur snorted.

"Your grandfather and my grandfather were brothers. That makes us second cousins, but apparently, our fathers were raised together, so it may as well be first."

"So we're like family now?" The warlocks voice began to rise his face contorting into mock disgust and surprise.

"Let's pretend we don't know and never speak of it again," Arthur muttered with a smirk.

"If you're my cousin, and she's your cousin, but not my cousin, then I can hardly hold your relation against her."

"Merlin," Arthur warned through his laughter.

"OK, OK" Merlin laughed, holding his hands up in surrender.

"So what are you going to do?" Arthur held his breath as his friend rolled a pebble over his fingers in thought. "There's an expectation for you to take the crown."

"I don't know, but I won't disrespect my father or his sacrifices and shrug off who I am. If that means I'm Merlin Ambrosius, then that's who I need to figure out a way to be." Merlin shook his head anxiously, "I can't even think about the rest of it right now; one thing at a time."

Arthur nodded with relief, his friend would not be running off to another kingdom anytime soon.

"Your father sounds like he was a good man."

"He was." Merlin sighed "The greatest I've ever met. I am proud to be his son. I won't hide anymore."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to, there's a lot I've wanted to say to you, but Gaius said it was too dangerous."

"So you didn't trust me?"

"Gaius told me if Uther found out he would execute me. If I'd said anything to you, I would have been asking you to betray your father to keep my secrets. What kind of person would I be to put you in that position? My burdens are my own unless they become need to know information, I tend to keep them to myself. Always have done."

"My father has been dead for a year now, Merlin."

"So I should have come and scheduled a confessional with you? Confessed to what? I've done nothing wrong. I'm not ashamed of who I am, and I'm not going to apologize for it. There are some things I don't like talking about, with anyone, and that's one of them. Trust has nothing to do with it."

Arthur nodded staring out into the trees. "Have your secrets, but you know all mine."

"And you'll know all mine, I give you my word on that, but I'm a little overwhelmed at the moment."

"Fair enough," Arthur nodded, turning his attention to the call echoing through the tree's, and Gwaine's prompt response behind them. "I'll hold you to it eventually."

---

"Look who I found skulking about in the forest," Leon called out as they made their way towards the camp. The knight hesitated when he caught sight of Merlin and Arthur returning to the group, pausing to give the raven haired man a respectful nod. "You all right Merlin?" Leon raised his eyebrows inquiring from across the campsite.

The warlock nodded uncomfortably, as he fended off greetings from Percival, still mindful of his injury.

"Percival," Arthur bellowed patting the giant on the shoulder. "Were you successful?"

"Yes and no, I found the camp, but did not get much information." The brutish knight reached into his pack and pulled out a parchment handing it to the king.

"What'd I miss," the warlock asked tentatively, giving a small apologetic nod to Galahad as they made eye contact for the first time since his blow up back in Camelot.

"When they arrived," Arthur nodded toward Cador and Galahad, "they gave me the scroll Niviane intercepted about the attempt on your life. I sent Percival to the Druids to see if they had any idea what it was referring to."

Merlin nodded, reading the parchment Arthur had handed him, his brow knitting at both his druidic name, and what he now knew was his surname. "Fair to say I'm not oblivious anymore," he scoffed, handing the missive back to Arthur, who snorted his agreement.

"They were anxious about something and packing their camp when I arrived. When I woke in the morning, the entire settlement was gone. They'd left in the night while I slept."

"Perhaps it was your presence that spooked them?"

"I don't think so; I had no livery on. They welcomed me, gave me a meal and made me a bed, but they would not speak of the scroll. But, I did overhear bits of conversation in the night, something about warlocks, beasts, and a mount of the nine. That's all I could make out."

"What's a warlock?" Arthur's eyes crinkled in confusion, as he tried to process the information.

"I'm not sure," the brawny knight admitted. "They were speaking too quietly for me to hear more than that, and when they realized I was listening, they stopped talking altogether."

"Magic users tend to be classified three ways: Sorcerer or sorceresses, mages or witches, and warlocks," Cador offered, finding himself under the gaze of Camelot's king and knights. "A sorcerer learns to access magic by instruction, a mage or witch's magic is inherent and manifests itself during their life, and a warlock is born with the ability."

"That's impossible."

"You asked, I answered." Cador shrugged leaning back on the log.

"Well, thank you for that. Just out of curiosity, are there any other heirs to my throne mucking about that I should know about, Prince Cador? Or do you and Merlin about cover it," Arthur quipped locking eyes with the young knight?

"Just Lord or Sir is fine," the knight replied nonchalantly, not taking the Kings bait.

Merlin scrubbed his hand over his face and groaned. One Pendragon posturing was enough; he didn't have the patience for two of them circling each other. "Can we do this another time," the irritated warlock pressed, diverting Arthur's attention from the brewing standoff.

"Right. Moving on from all-powerful magical babies, did you get anything else from them? Anything about what the nine is?" Arthur ignored Merlin's indignant gaping and focused his attention back on Percival.

"Not of that, but I did hear Morgana attacked a Druid camp a fortnight ago; it's possible that's what the scroll meant by refused."

"She would attack her own kind?"

"I don't know, but they seemed as cautious of her as we are, perhaps even more."

Arthur nodded, knitting his brow in confusion.

"I've heard the term 'mount of the nine' before, Sire." Leon stared at the fire deep in thought, his brow furrowed in contemplation. "I was a child; it was something my father said. I don't recall it, but the term's familiar to me."

"Perhaps Gaius knows of it then," Merlin offered reluctantly, the attention of the group now on Leon, as he visibly struggled to remember.

Merlin loved his mentor, but his anger had not yet subsided, and he hadn't had time to contemplate their relationship further. He knew he would forgive him, eventually, but right now the last place he wanted to be was Camelot. Unfortunately, his guardian did know quite a bit, so he'd have to suck it up. Especially given Morganna's involvement, and Kilgharrah's earlier warning.

"You trust Gaius to give you an answer that's not cherry picked? Because right now I don't," Arthur muttered petulantly.

Merlin shook his head softly, he didn't, and it hurt him more than words could express that he didn't.

"My father's estate is a half days' ride," Leon offered.

"Merlin's still injured," Arthur held his hand up to stop the protest forming on the warlock's lips. "Don't think I don't notice you over there wincing and favoring your side like a girl. You have no business even being out here, we both know you're not cleared to be out of bed."

"I'm fine," Merlin protested anyhow. "A little wormwood and I'll be right as rain."

"You're still in your night clothes, Merlin."

"My father has beds, and wormwood or whatever else Merlin requires. He put a physician on staff a few years ago so as not to make the trip to Camelot over small matters. I'm sure I've got clothes there that Merlin can change into," Leon offered.

"Morgana also has a spy in Camelot. Going to Manafort's will keep her in the dark, as well as remove Merlin from the threat against him there."

Merlin watched the silent exchange between Leon and Cador as they locked eyes for a moment. One look at Arthur told the warlock the king had noticed it as well.

"Alright," Arthur finally nodded. Merlin knew Arthur would not mention it, but his guard was up. Leon pressing the matter was an oddity Arthur would not ignore, and his agreement was as much about that, as it was practicality. Still, the warlock signed with relief he'd have a longer reprieve from Camelot, and the reality he had to face there.

"You know Leon's father?" Merlin asked, losing the battle of silence against his piqued curiosity regarding the exchange, and the two men adorned in blue.

"He was a knight in your father's army," Cador nodded, "he followed Bal and Uther to Camelot to liberate it from Vortigern, and stayed."

Merlin nodded, raising his eyebrow at the two men, thoroughly fascinated as Arthur shifted uncomfortably beyond him.

"There's another matter," Percival broke the silence that had fallen over the encampment. "On my return, I witnessed a dragon in flight. It flew over my head; that may be the beast the Druids were referring to."

"A what? I killed the last dragon," Arthur heaved as Merlin's head shot up, all thoughts of the knights, Morgana, and the scroll, momentarily forgotten.

"I wasn't in Camelot then, so I don't know if it was the same, just that it was enormous and flew toward the white mountains."

Arthur snapped his head to Merlin.

"You told me the dragon was dead?"

"No," the warlock scoffed, "I said it was mortally wounded."

"Well apparently not!" Arthur threw his hands in the air and began pacing.

"Maybe it healed itself; it has magic you know."

"How could you possibly know that, Merlin."

"OH gee I don't know, Arthur, maybe because it's a dragon…. You know, a MAGICAL creature."

"If it has magic, then why hasn't it come back and attacked us"? Arthur rolled his eyes at the dragon lord now staring at him incredulously.

"Obviously, I told him I would kill him if he did," he retorted cocking his head to the side.

"Right, and I suppose he quaked with fear and flew away with his tail tucked between his giant legs."

"Well as a matter of fact…" the warlock snorted.

"Merlin."

"I refuse to believe I'm related to you" the indignant dragon lord shook his head in disbelief. "All-powerful magical babies? Seriously Arthur? It is a sick joke the gods are playing on me."

Arthur smirked and threw a water skin at the mouthy former manservant.

"Watch it Merlin, or I'll call you Sire." he quipped on the verge of laughter as the former servant caught it with a mock gasp of shock.

"I could always tell them about the donkey ears. Cador do you want to hear about the donkey ears?"

"What donkey ears?" Gwaine laughed, leaning in gleefully.

"You wouldn't dare."

"Oh, I would."

Chapter 10

Geneloie was a large settlement, one of the largest in Camelot outside of the citadel itself. Arthur had spent plenty of time here as a young man, on account of his father sending him to Leon's father for additional instruction with a blade. He had a fond attachment to the place, and the family who oversaw it as a result. Manafort had long ago hung his cape due to injuries he'd sustained reclaiming Camelot, but Arthur had never noticed any impediment, nor lack of skill. Not that he was one to question such things. Arthur held a deep respect for the old knight, and for his son, whom he had made his first knight with the intent to continue a tradition set for generations. Cerniw and Camelot were not, in fact, the same lands, so he knew now that wasn't the case. Still, he didn't regret it, Leon was one of the best men, and knights, that he had the privilege of knowing, and Arthur trusted him to lead his army without hesitation. There were few others he could say that about with any honesty. In truth, Manafort had likely been Bal's first knight rather than Uther's, and Arthur wondered at the decision to change his livery to Camelot's and his loyalty to Uther. The question had been burning in the back of his mind since Leon had insisted they come here. He hoped this little excursion would provide answers. If there was anyone alive who knew them beside Gaius, it was Manafort.

Under normal circumstances, Arthur would have sent Merlin ahead to give the Lord some notice they were arriving, but with his change of status that was no longer feasible. The former manservant had spent much of the journey in silence, other than an occasional grunt or clipped answer when he'd been asked anything or addressed. It was so un-Merlin like it was grating on his nerves. He couldn't goad the man like he usually would because Cador and Galahad rode behind him and he was not in the mood to deal with either of them.

Several times a barb would reach the tip of his tongue meant to provoke the raven haired man into surly retorts and prattle, but then a quick glance to his right would silence him. No longer in bed clothes, Merlin was dressed in one of Cador's extra gambesons and trousers. It was clothing only a knight or traveling nobleman would wear, and thus marked him on sight as part of the noble class. He could hardly complain, hell he was grateful. The gambesons padding was thick enough to stop a bolt from penetrating, and by itself was considered light armor. Given the threat on Merlin's life, it had been good fortune Cador had it in his pack. Still, it made things awkward in a way they wouldn't have been if the color of the infernal thing matched the crimson he wore, rather than the royal blue he was quickly growing to resent. Merlin didn't just change from peasant to nobility; he was a King in his own right. Arthur couldn't order him to do anything - even cheer up. He hated it with every fiber of his being.

Unlike in Camelot, whispers did not follow as they passed the small smithy, though he had no doubt the rumors running rampant in the citadel had long reached their ears already. Given Leon's family's ties to Cerniw, it was likely his visit was expected. Still, the town was subdued and distracted, and the garrison seemed to be conducting searches - something their arrival was interrupting.

"King Arthur," Manafort greeted, knocking the king from his brooding to find they had somehow made their way into the courtyard without his notice. Leon's father, Manafort, had been waiting for them, looking harried and worn, but welcoming nonetheless.

"Servants are preparing quarters; I assume you'll be staying for the night at least?"

Arthur nodded, noting the man's gaze had turned to Merlin and lingered long enough to make the former servant fidget restlessly. Under other circumstances, he might have found it entertaining, particularly when the old knight had inclined his head in greeting, but at the moment he couldn't muster up the amusement, and it just added to his already grated nerves.

"It appears your garrison is engaged in other matters, anything I should be concerned about?" He asked, interrupting the display, saving the raven haired man, and himself, further discomfiture.

"Ah, yes. A guard's wife and child went missing this morning; it looks suspicious. They're searching for them now. I should have a report on their findings soon."

Arthur nodded, satisfied with the answer. He wouldn't worry too much about it, most cases missing wives were the result of a row with her husband. They nearly always turned up with family members, unharmed.

"Keep me updated, in the unlikely event she or the child has come to harm." He instructed. It wouldn't do for him to appear uninterested in her plight.

"Of course, Sire," Manafort nodded, as they dismounted their horses and handed their reigns off to stable hands.

Arthur's jaw clenched in the awkward silence. Surely Manafort would want to know why they were here, and yet it was just as likely he already knew or at least had an idea considering his subtle acknowledgment of Merlin. Waving off the staff gathered to greet and tend to them, he followed the elder knight into the hall, wondering how appropriate many of his questions would even be. Manafort was born in Cerniw, and thus a citizen of the hidden kingdom. Merlin was Manafort's sovereign as surely as Arthur was - more so if he'd retained his holdings and title in Cerniw. Given his family history there, Arthur suspected he did. It was a distinction he repeatedly forgot, and was becoming resentful of, as he discovered one by one so many of the people he associated so closely with Camelot, were Cerniw's citizens and had sworn fealty to Merlin's father or grandfather, long before they'd offered any to Uther. Of course, he couldn't hold it against them. Uther hadn't grown up in Camelot, and many of Camelot's oldest families had returned with him from Cerniw, where they had, essentially become refugee's during Vortigern's reign. And many others had a long family history in Cerniw and had forged their relationships with his father while he was there. Still, it annoyed him, and he could not seem to fathom out why. Everyone had given their fealty to his father before him, so why would giving their allegiance to his father's Uncle before Uther bother him so much?   

"Leon tells me you have a physician on staff?" He shook himself out of his rumination and forced himself to address the immediate concern. He'd have plenty of time to talk to the old knight later.

"I do." The old knight nodded knowingly, turning his eyes to the former manservant, scanning him for injury. "Fetch Marcus," the Lord called out to his chamberlain behind him, before waving them into the corridor toward what Arthur assumed were the physician's quarters.

"I'd heard Merlin had suffered injury, but I do not know the nature of it, nor the details," Manafort confirmed. "Rumors have been rampant, as you can imagine. It's difficult to know what to believe."

Rubbing his hand through his unruly mane, Merlin huffed in exasperation beside him, as they entered a small chamber, not dissimilar to Gaius’s, and an ancient man with a long wiry beard waved him towards a cot.

"I'm fine really. I'm a quick healer; nothing a nap won't fix," the former manservant protested.

"Gaius didn't clear him to be out of bed from an earlier injury." Arthur rolled his eyes at his friend's peevishness, turning to the man Arthur guessed was older than Gaius, waiting expectantly for the details of his patient's woes. "I want him checked over, and he's in need of - Merlin, what are you in need of again?"

"A razor?" The warlock scrubbed his hand over the week long growth covering his face, scowling at the King, before trudging his way to the cot, ostensibly choosing battles he could win.

"He took a bolt to the side; had a tinche on him for three days before he stirred. Four before he woke." Cador spoke confidently addressing Manafort, on Merlin's behalf.

"Four days?" Manafort's eyes widened, looking between Cador and Merlin, finally turning his gaze back to Cerniw's First Knight. "Niviane?"

"Yes, Sir," Cador grinned.

"Well, I suppose that answers a lot of questions and puts things into perspective doesn't it?"

Cador snorted and nodded his head. "Yes, Sir. He's favoring his side and appears to be in pain when he bends or lifts anything with weight to it. Gaius stated his ribs might be bruised, but Merlin left Camelot before they could be wrapped properly."

Arthur watched the exchange with intrigue, struggling not to laugh at the indignation on the former manservant's face and the glower in his direction that accompanied it. Still, the interaction was curious, and Merlin's umbrage turned into intrigue as he, too, watched the odd encounter between the two men. An unspoken 'what the hell' passing between them, as Merlin’s eyes finally reached his own nearly caused Arthur to snort out loud. What the hell indeed, Arthur wondered, appreciative that Merlin had the decency to still be Merlin in the rare moments he bothered to come up for air from his uncharacteristic brooding.

Manafort shook his head turning back to the raven-haired prince, "You have no business being out of bed, Sire. "

"Uh… Just Merlin, My Lo…" the warlock stammered exasperated, recoiling slightly.

"Sire." Manafort insisted raising his brow at the protest; cutting it off and shutting it down. "Bal was one of my oldest and greatest friends; Do not ask it of me not to acknowledge you as his."

Arthur bristled as he studied his startled friend, waiting to see how he would react. Being his father's son didn't mean he had to take the throne. If he didn't want to be called Sire, he was well within his right to say so until he'd made that decision. My Lord would do. The room had grown quiet as everyone waited for Merlin's response, and Arthur was annoyed for him; they were pushing him into this. He'd nearly voiced the thought when the manservant gave a defeated and resigned nod of his head.

He knew Merlin had made the decision to embrace his identity, but he wasn't about to tolerate anyone guilting the man into accepting that throne if he didn't want it. He might hold his tongue for now, but it didn't stop him from wanting to punch the wall in response to the small smile that found it's way to Manafort and both Cerniw Knights faces' at Merlin’s reluctant acceptance.

With a quick nod, Manafort squeezed Merlin's shoulder and turned back to the knights. "Thank you. Sir Cador, I presume?"

"Yes, Sir," the knight smiled again as Manafort nodded. "We'll properly get acquainted later when there are not more pressing matters. Leon, why don't you show Cador and Galahad to their rooms, and get yourself and Sir Gwaine settled as well."

"We'll properly get acquainted later when there are not more pressing matters. Leon, why don't you show Cador and Galahad to their rooms, and get yourself and Sir Gwaine settled as well."

"And here I thought you hadn't noticed me," Leon smiled, clutching his father's shoulder before disappearing out the door with Cerniw's knights, and Gwaine behind him. Gwaine had been there, yet he'd stayed silent and made himself invisible. Arthur nearly choked at the thought of the impertinent rogue being capable of such a thing and wondered where he stood on all of this. He suspected Gwaine felt much the same as he did, especially considering his silence. Few things in this world could turn Gwaine deadly serious, but looking out for Merlin was one of them. He would make sure to catch up with him later. If anyone would be his ally in standing up to Merlin being bullied into a crown, it was Gwaine.

"You knew who Merlin was?" The King raised his brow as he followed the Lord into a sitting room, reluctantly leaving the irritable prince, who had just been handed a sleeping draught, behind to be poked and prodded in privacy. It wasn't likely he'd be awake for hours anyway if Marcus's potions were anything like Gaius's.

"I fathomed it out," Manafort nodded catching the monarch's eye. "Given the rumors, and flanked by knights - Constans and Bruin's boys, no less - removes all doubt."

"I see," Arthur shifted uncomfortably, his eyes narrowing as he collapsed into a large chair scrutinizing the former knight. "Even Gaius didn't realize Cador was Constans' son. His birth is absent from the records. How did you know that or who Galahad was because I'm certain I didn't introduce them?"

"No, I don't suppose you didn't. " Manafort chuckled, handing the King a glass of mulled wine before sitting opposite him. "The placement of their heraldry tells me they are of a rank that would only ever flank the King. I try to keep up with who keeps those positions. Of those that do, Cador and Galahad rank the highest. It only makes sense it would be they who came to Camelot. That and they look like their parents."

"And how exactly do you keep up with that type of information?" Arthur raised his eyebrow trying to fathom how anyone associated with Camelot would be able to get such information, especially when the rest of the court didn't seem to know it.

"Many of us still have family in Cerniw, myself included. We may not be able to see each other, Arthur, but we do keep in touch by letter. I don't think your father every truly considered the families split or displaced by that blasted mountain, but there are many."

"You say that as if he were the one that created it," the monarch bristled, waving away an offering of fruit and cheese.

"No, he didn't, but it was either that rock or a devastating war your father couldn't win. Many were relieved when it appeared; it's the longevity of the damn thing that's the issue."

"You're awfully quick to discount my father's ability."

"And you're thinking of him in the context of being on the throne for over 20 years. Back then Uther was a new king, young with little experience and few allies of his own. He was facing hostilities on several fronts, and Bal had the upper hand. Everyone knew it. Even your father. Bal gave Uther an out, and he ran with it. Uther was a great warrior and a keen strategist, but back then he was desperate to prove himself and made several big mistakes resulting in incredibly harsh lessons. The man you know was long hardened by those experiences."

Arthur nodded, trying to picture his father as a young and inexperienced King; it was a fascinating thought, and one he'd never considered. He'd have only been on the throne a short time back then, and Arthur understood making terrible judgment calls as a result of inexperience. He'd nearly brought the lands to war shortly after taking the throne himself.

"Even if that's true, and I believe it is - I've made mistakes of my own and had to deal with the repercussions of them - that is not an excuse for my father to lie to me."

"No, it's not. And I don't profess to know Uther's mind. I don't know what he told you or what he withheld. What I do know is your father lost everyone he loved in a very short period. Ygraine, Bal, Constans, Tristan, Ban. Everyone. All he had left was you, and you looked at him like he was a God. I think his biggest fear right up until the day he died was that you would see his mistakes, and stop."

Arthur shuddered, as different emotions vibrated through his body pooling like a rock in his stomach. He had spent the entirety of his life seeking his father's approval and never once did it occur to him; his father needed his. He recalled the defeated agony in his fathers' eyes when they'd rescued him from the cells, apologizing for keeping Morgana a secret. He had believed his father’s pain was rooted solely in her betrayal, but perhaps it was more than that. Arthur's heart broke for the infallible leader who always knew what to do, and the mask his father may have worn solely for his benefit. His father had been a mere mortal. He had loved, and he had lost. From the sounds of it greatly, and thinking back Arthur realized he'd never recovered from it.

The king nodded gratefully as the old knight returned to his chair, realizing his father's friend had walked away to allow him privacy as he composed himself; though he was still at a loss for words. It was jarring to consider his father as human and fallible, but it brought him some peace. It didn't make keeping the truth from him right, but knowing his father's motivation for keeping all this from him may not have malicious or the result of lack of trust in his son, made it easier for him to process. It also made it harder because it hadn't been necessary. Arthur would forever regret he'd never get the opportunity to reassure him of that. But the explanation of his father's actions didn't atone for all those who had an obligation to make sure he was informed, though, if not when he was Regent, then surely after he became King.

"So it is right then, to assume most of this - the two kingdoms, Merlin, Cador, all of it - was common knowledge to everyone in the court but me?" He clarified. He couldn't change the past, but he did need to know what was real and what wasn't, and who knew what, and why they kept their silence.

"One kingdom." Manafort leaned back in his chair thoughtfully, considering his words. "I don't know why people insist on referring to them separately; Ban made Merlin his heir and Bal became regent on his behalf when he died. It's all Cerniw now. But, yes. It's not likely many knew their names, but Merlin and Cador's existence, as well as Cerniw and the enchantment, are known in the court, and common enough knowledge outside of it."

"He made Merlin his heir? Why would he do that?"

"Benoic's lands were given to the Inwudu's by Bruta. When Ban's only son fell ill and died, he and Bal wrote a treaty to return it to the Ambrosius line."

"And this is also common knowledge?"

"That Benoic and Cerniw merged? In the nobility? Yes. Probably in the peasantry as well."

"Does Merlin know that?"

"I don't know what Merlin knows and what he doesn't. But I think those things would be better suited coming from his mother or Gaius, than an old knight he barely knows and has no reason to trust." 

Arthur nodded, accepting the answer, for now. "My father's been dead over a year, why am I just learning about all of this now?" Arthur leaned back in his chair and studied the elder knight, waiting for the answer to one of the biggest questions that had plagued him since this all began.

"It was known you did not know for a time, but when Uther was pressed on telling you, your father made it clear to me and one or two others, that you were aware of all of this. That was a few years ago, and until this conversation and the events of the past week I had no reason to believe otherwise."

"Was Gaius one of them?"

"He was," Manafort nodded, watching him expectantly to see where the line of questioning would lead.

"Gaius knew I didn't know."

"Because Uther told him otherwise? Or because he figured it out? Suspecting you didn't know, and knowing you didn't know are not the same thing. In any case, only Gaius can answer to why he kept his silence. But if that is true and he still held it close to his chest, he did so for a reason."

"You'd defend him?"

"I would. Gaius is many things, but he is loyal, to both you and Merlin. If the boy had learned who he was, and your father learned of it, Merlin would have been in danger, and not just from your father. I'm not saying that's why he kept his silence, but if Gaius was sure you didn't know, I'm inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt he had a damn good reason for it."

"Sire. My Lord. I apologize for intruding." Arthur's eyes darted toward the guard now peeking his head through the doorway. Surely he hadn't knocked, and damn him for not doing so.

"What is it?" he queried, his annoyance with the interruption to the only candid answers he'd gotten to this mess since it began, making itself known.

"We've concluded the girl and child were taken forcefully with ill intent, Sire. We knew you and Lord Manafort would want an update as soon as possible."

Arthur nodded, watching the guard expectantly waiting for the man to get on with it.

"We've determined she was last seen taking herbs and material to her niece, who lives on the outskirts. When we went to check the home, it was in complete disarray. Drag markings lead from it for about a league in the direction of Camelot before they abruptly end. The found the niece nearby, beaten near to death and left for dead; they're bringing her in now."

"And the woman and child?" Arthur stood, the rest of his conversation would have to wait, as the woman's plight now did require both he and Manafort's more immediate attention and concern.

"Faint tracks are leading from where the niece was located, but they point in different directions. They're attempting to follow them now, but they're well covered."

Arthur nodded, following Geneloie's Lord out of the room, back towards the physician's chambers where the young girl would be taken. "My men will give any assistance you need locating her."

Merlin opened his eyes finding himself, once again, in a bed far softer than his body was used to or required. At least in Camelot he had been able to fathom out quickly he was in guest chambers – his - if Gaius has been correct about Arthur gifting them. It had taken a few moments of disorientation for him to recall they were at Leon's father's estate, and he was in a guest room. The warlock had been perfectly fine in the physician's chambers on a cot, comfortable even. Groaning, he pulled himself out of the bed, noticing clothes folded on top of a chest at the end of the bed, and a large plate sitting on an oak table filled with refreshments in the event he wanted a light snack. His entire life had gone mad.

He still ached, but the pain was manageable thanks to the willow bark tea, Marcus, Manafort's physician, had offered him. He was happy to find more of that on the table next to platter holding enough cheese, bread, and fruit to feed a small village. It was a ridiculous amount of food, and he had half a mind to remind both Arthur and Manafort his father had lived in a cave. Then again, Arthur hadn't worked that out yet, and Merlin wasn't ready for that conversation any time soon, especially with Kilgharrah being spotted and Arthur having sent Percival back to Camelot to give orders to hunt his kin.

It was his fault the dragon had been seen in the first place, and he cursed his loss of composure, calling for him while the sun still sat too high over the horizon to provide the much-needed cover of darkness. He'd been impatient and careless, and now Kilgharrah was being hunted, and his continued existence was known. He'd made an attempt to warn the dragon using mind speech as soon as Percival had given his report, but he had no idea how far that would travel or if the message had been heard. One thing was certain; he wasn't about to call for him to warn him while Arthur was actively looking. Merlin had to trust Kilgharrah would remain out of sight, and keep Aithusa out of sight as well.

Thanking the Goddess he noticed a small wash bin, razor, and a looking glass, set off in the corner, near a small antechamber, and returned his attention to cleaning up. Not that Merlin needed the mirror, he was used to shaving without one. Still, he quickly washed, scraping the days worth of stubble from his chin, before turning toward the stack of clothing that had been left for him. Of course, the clothes he arrived in were missing, and he determined he'd better quickly put something on before Arthur got the stupid idea to send in a manservant to help him dress. The King would do that, just to be an ass, for no other reason than he was Arthur.

Pulling a blue tunic over his shoulders, he reveled in the softness of the material he'd only ever felt in his hands as he'd handed Arthur his clothing. He'd never felt it on his back, though, and he had to admit it wasn't terrible - far from it. At least the garments were in the same general style of what he usually wore. The tunic had embroidery banded near the bottom, something Arthur would not think twice about wearing, but it felt too pompous for himself. He considered a different shirt, but opted against it, if only to avoid the motion of taking the shirt back off and putting a different one back on. The rest of the shirts had embellishments as well, so he'd just have to suffer through it. The physician had been kind enough to wrap his ribs while he'd been sleeping, and the wound from the arrow was still tender. Despite the bruising, and the redness indicating the puncture was still healing, he was fine, internally at least. Pulling on trousers, and a new pair of black boots, that were far more comfortable than anything he'd ever worn before he turned toward the door, feeling pretty smug he'd managed to dress in the pompous clothing, something Arthur, was still not capable of doing. 

"Are you just going to spend your life standing outside every door I sleep behind?" Merlin raised his eyebrow at the dirty blonde leaning casually opposite the chamber door he'd opened.

"Well no. Normally the castle guard would have such a duty, but as long as we're not in Cerniw, yes," Cador smirked, looking approvingly at the clothing he was wearing, but not commenting on it.

"Right." The warlock shifted uncomfortably, turning down the hallway. "Well come on then," he called behind him, before realizing his second cousin was already in lockstep with him. "Where's Arthur?"

"Are you supposed to be out of bed?"

"What did we say about treating me like a child?" He glanced at the Knight cheekily.

"Right, of course," Cador smirked, flashing a grin, as Merlin turned his attention back towards finding a way out of this corridor.

"They found the niece of the woman that was missing, beaten half to death. That's why they moved you, in case you were wondering."

"Ah," Merlin nodded. That made sense, and for a moment he felt bad thinking Arthur had done it on purpose to annoy him. "Is she going to make it?"

"I don't know." Cador shook his head sadly, "it doesn't look good. Arthur wants to take her back to Camelot in the morning for Gaius to attend to her, and hopefully if she wakes up to question. The woman and her child are still missing. Arthur and the others are out looking."

"And you're not with them because?"

"Because someone needed to stay here with you." Cador tossed his hands up in surrender as the warlock paused mid-step to face him. "There's a bounty on your head, even Arthur insisted. We've been taking turns. You woke up during mine. They should be back shortly."

Merlin exhaled, loudly, nodding his acceptance, making his way through the corridor, he recognized from earlier in the day, toward the physician's chamber. There was no point in arguing about it. Apparently, someone other than Morgana wanted him dead for being his father's son. He knew Arthur would be unreasonable over it. As far as Arthur was concerned, Merlin couldn't protect himself. 

"Sire!" Marcus exclaimed leaping up from his task of tending to the young girl so swollen and bruised she was hardly recognizable as human.

"Don't stop." Merlin waved the old man down, nodding toward the girl. "I apprenticed under Gaius for five years. Tell me what you need me to do to help." Merlin stared at the girl horrified; whoever had done this to her had been savage and intended her death. Every inch of the young lady was purple and bloated. A large gash across her temple indicated she'd taken a blow to her head, severe enough to be life-threatening. 

"Of course my lord," Marcus nodded, making the warlock wince.

"Just Merlin. The whole Sire, my lord thing is going to take a while for me to get used to."

Grabbing some bandages, he surveyed the women, noting her broken legs, had not yet been set, as Marcus had worked on her broken ribs, which, besides the head wound, was the most life threatening of her injuries.

"Do you want me to set her leg?" he asked, unsure of where to start in the face of such extensive injuries.

"I'm not sure it's going to matter, her skull is fractured; she's likely bleeding on the inside."

Merlin nodded, looking at the young woman thoughtfully. She didn't look as if she could be more than 14 winters, still just a child. He didn't understand what could compel a man to do something like this to anyone, let alone a young girl, unable to defend herself.

"Forgive an old man a habit, my lord, but there are few of us left in this world able to remember your grandfather at your age." The physician studied him intently, making Merlin uncomfortable, especially when his focus should be on his patient, rather than gawking at him. "I see him in you. Your father took after his mother, with her coloring. Your grandfather, though, his hair was black as night, like yours. It's a little disconcerting."

"I'm sorry," the warlock stammered awkwardly, not knowing what else to say. Merlin had heard of Aurelianus of course, but he'd never associated the man with himself. Even now he didn't.  It was eerie to think he'd inherited some of his appearance from this mighty King; even Uther had revered.

"Don't be sorry, good goddess of white there's nothing for you to apologize to an old fool like me for, but I do know what Aurelianus and your father were capable.  Forgive me for the suggestion, but if you're capable of the same, it's the only way this young lady will survive. If you'll excuse me, my Lords, I need to grab some more rosemary from the stores."

Inclining his head the old man walked from the room, leaving the confounded warlock behind.

"Was he just implying what I think he was implying?" Merlin hissed, every muscle in his body tensed. He didn't need anyone here knowing of his magic; he was already on borrowed time as far as that was concerned with Arthur. He sure didn't want him to find out now, like this.

"I believe he was, yes," Cador answered thoughtfully behind him, staring at the door the old man had just exited.

"Does everyone know?"

"About their magic? At home, yes, here I don't know. Uther went out of his way to separate your Grandfather from any mention of magic and to erase your father's existence. But those who know do anything substantial about your father or grandfather are likely to suspect it."

"Great, that's just what I need." Merlin sighed, "If Arthur finds out…"

"It's best he doesn't, at least until you can pass through the mountain if you can manage it for that long."

Merlin shook his head walking to the young woman to access her injuries. If she was bleeding in her head, he knew the spell to use; he'd used it before on Morgana, but it was a powerful spell, and he didn't want to overdo it for fear her recovery would be scrutinized if it occurred unnaturally fast. Whatever he did would have to be subtle, especially considering he didn't have Gaius here to cover for him. Marcus was right, without some magical assistance, the girl would die. 

"I know you won't like this, I don't either, but I'm not sure it's wise to use magic on her." Cador murmured, his face pained.

The warlock watched the knight expectantly, not used to have these types of conversations with anyone but Gaius. It made him nervous to use magic on the girl because it had been suggested, but he was curious as to Cador's reasonings and if they matched his own. 

"I don't need to tell you, your heritage alone ties you to the Old Religion, Merlin. Your identity has been compromised," Cador stressed. "For all those that remained loyal to your family in Camelot and beyond, they are outnumbered by the enemies you have here. Manafort is still a knight of Cerniw. He risked his life to take supplies to your mother, and kept an eye on you for your father when you showed up in Uther's court, so I trust him. But anyone else in this estate, Camelot, or elsewhere?" Cador shook his head, "I don't trust anyone, and neither should you. Even if they say they know, and their loyalty is to you, it could easily be a trap to expose your magic."

Raking his hand across the back of his neck Merlin regarded the young girl in front of him, unsure of what he should do. When it came to his magic, he wasn't quick to trust anyone anyway, but Cador was right, with an inkling of his heritage, it would be an easy way to trap him. Any that knew of his father's ties to the Old Religion would try to fathom out if he had them as well. It certainly wouldn't take long before the suggestion of it reached Arthur's ears. 

"The timing of Kilgharrah's being spotted is terrible, Merlin," Cador continued, as the warlock struggled with his conscious. "I'm sure you can understand how some might twist his reappearance now, of all times, the wrong way, and try to influence Arthur with it. Adding magic to that right now... "

Save for the ragged breaths coming from a viciously beaten child whose life he now held in his hands, the room was eerily silent, as he and Cador locked eyes. Merlin hated every word coming out of Cador's mouth, hating it even more that he couldn't argue with him. His reasoning was sound. Kilgharrah was a huge complication, and one he hadn't considered. It would be disastrous if Arthur learned of the magic, before or even shortly after the king realized he was a dragon lord, and what that meant. But he didn't know if he was capable of walking away and letting an innocent child die, for the selfish purpose of saving his own skin.

"So I should let this child die? Because that's what she is, a child." Merlin turned to the younger Pendragon, hoping the knight would understand his predicament.

Chapter 11

"So I should let this child die? Because that's what she is, a child." Merlin turned to the younger Pendragon, hoping the knight would understand his predicament.

"I can't tell you what to do," Cador conceded, "it's your decision. I'm just making sure you're taking everything into consideration. Whatever you decide, I will follow behind you no matter the consequences, and defend you with my life."

"This is all real isn't it?" Merlin caught the Knights eye, unsure of what else to say. This was his life now. His father was well known - as was his Dragon Lord heritage. It was not something he could hide from Arthur, the court, or anyone else. Before Kilgharrah was spotted, he might have made the case the dragons were gone, so it was irrelevant. That was no longer an option. To Arthur, the continued existence of the dragon, and his ability to command it, would make a big difference.

"Yes, it's very real." Cador moved toward the door, ensuring they would have a warning if anyone approached. "I know you don't like we're here, and I'm sorry for it. But we didn't make the decision to come lightly. As long as your identity was in question and not confirmed, you had a layer of protection. Once removed - even the most powerful of men need someone to watch their backs, especially in hostile territory. Whether you like it or not, with Arthur's views on magic, you're in hostile territory."

Turning his eyes to the floor, Merlin pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Camelot was his home, everything and everyone he loved was there, save for his mother. Arthur was his best friend, and that, as well as the friends he'd made, and the life he'd built, was not something he wanted to lose. He'd considered what Arthur's reaction would be if he found out, and he'd played every scenario over and over in his head over the years. Never once did he think it would be in circumstances like this. With his magic, and even as a dragon lord heritage, he was still a peasant. His lot in life would not have changed all that much, except that people - Arthur - would realize he wasn't a helpless idiot and had brought something to the table in Camelot's defense and the defense of her king. Now, though? If there was a worst case scenario of Arthur learning who he was and what he was capable of - this was it.

He'd bristled when Cador had mentioned Manafort's loyalties, not that he didn't appreciate the fact Leon's father had remained loyal to his family and had assisted his mother over the years. That was an interesting development, and he could think of hundreds of questions he'd like to ask the senior knight about his father, and the whole situation. But it also meant Manafort knew, at least about being a dragon lord. If he had been taking supplies to his mother while he was a child, it was possible he knew about the magic as well. If Manafort knew, did it not also stand to reason Leon did?

Arthur would be furious if he found out his first knight had known any of this and kept it from him. Yet, it was likely Leon knew something, or he wouldn't have insisted they come here, rather than return to Camelot. Arthur would question that if he learned Manafort's loyalties belonged to his father more than they had to Uther. Pressing the heels of his palm against his eyes in an attempt to thwart the dull ache forming behind them, Merlin sighed, turning once again to face the Cerniw knight watching him quietly from the corner.

"Does Leon know?"

"I've been trying to figure that out for days," Cador replied. "I suspect he wanted to come here because he's attempting to fathom it all out himself, but I can't be sure. "

Merlin nodded, disconcerted by the idea. So many people had already betrayed Arthur, and as much as he liked Leon, he hoped the knight's loyalties were not divided.

Turning his attention back to the young girl, he considered all the options. He'd never be able to live with himself if he'd let an innocent die to protect his secret. But nor was he going to repeat the mistake he'd made when he'd first arrived in Camelot and saved Gwen's father. Healing the girl now, after Marcus had suggested it, would be foolish. He'd have to remind Arthur his father was the dragon lord, but he wasn't ready for him to know about the magic. Not yet. If he could get her to Camelot, at least he'd have Gaius to hide behind. Decision made, he placed his hand on her forehead and whispered a spell, stopping the bleeding. It wouldn't heal her completely, but it would prevent further damage, and buy plenty of time to get to Camelot and treat her properly.

"I won't let her die. Gaius will provide cover; As a physician, he still has Arthur's absolute trust. I've bought her time for now."

Cador nodded, turning towards the door. "They're coming."

Merlin stepped away from the girl as Arthur and Leon strode in, a young woman in a torn dress, caked with grime, between them. Terror lining every corner of her delicate face, her eyes fell upon the beaten girl on the table, and she began swaying and screaming.

"You're awake?" Arthur blinked at him in surprise, leading the hysterical woman to a cot, having already given up trying to calm her.

"Well met, I've also trained in medicine, in the event you forgot. I need to find roseroot; it may help calm her."

Merlin raised his brow at the full jar containing rosemary, holding it up for Cador's inspection, as he searched the cupboards for the spiny root. Shaking his head at the old physician's lie, he located his wares and quickly ground the herb into flakes to steep into a tea. He'd considered giving the distraught woman something to help her sleep, but assuming this was who they were looking for, the missing child was not with them. Sleep wasn't an option until she was calm enough to question. Satisfied with the tincture, he instructed her to drink it, retreating with relief when Marcus returned to further check her for injuries. He could feel the King's eyes burning a hole in his back as he'd attempted to calm the woman, and finally free from the duty turned to face him.

"What?" he asked, walking across the room out of earshot of his patient to join the king, Cador, and Leon in the corner.

"You look like a proper noble," the King remarked, smirking at his annoyance.

"I'm childish enough to put itching powder in your bed and cupboard, now that stocks and stables seem to be off the table."

Arthur snorted, a grin lining his face. "That goes both ways, Merlin."

"Oh No, Cador's favorite thing to do is to stand outside my door." The warlock smirked, patting the King on the shoulder. "Good luck."

"I'll figure something out. My Lord." The King teased, giving a mock bow.

Rolling his eyes, Merlin turned the conversation back to the serious matter at hand. "You didn't find the child then?"

"No," Arthur shook his head, glancing back to the woman perplexed. "She was alone in the woods, hysterical, holding onto this."

Merlin took the scroll, his brow furrowing as he read it.

The beasts gather on the Ictis for Saxony's son to behold. Make Haste.

"The Ictis..." Pacing in a circle Merlin reread the scroll once again before handing it to Cador to see if he could make something of it. "Saxony's son..." The warlock stopped abruptly turning to face Arthur.

"Morgana uses Saxon's and we know she's up to something."

"Why would she alert us?"

"We don't know that she was, we don't know who the intended recipient is."

Arthur nodded, turning as the Lord of the Manor entered and made his way to the still keening woman. "I don't like this. Whoever did this..." the king waved toward the girl, still struggling to breathe through broken ribs. "Even Morgana knows this would come to my attention and I would hunt down those was responsible. If she was looking to send a message I'm not meant to learn about, this isn't the way to do it."

Merlin nodded, turning toward Manafort crossing the room to approach them.

"Did she say anything coherent?" Arthur asked, turning his gaze back to the sobbing woman.

"She's traumatized," Manafort shook his head. "Best I can understand through her rambling is she woke up in a barn, held by two men. They turned her loose not long ago to deliver that scroll to someone in Camelot; they're holding her child until she returns with a response."

Why would they hold her for hours?" Arthur asked.

"Perhaps they knew we were here," Leon replied. "It's possible they wanted her to travel at night so she wouldn't be discovered or impeded in her journey."

"She doesn't know who she's supposed to give it to?" Arthur knitted his brow, as he waited for Manafort to read through the missive Cador handed him.

"No, she was only told where to go."

"We know Morgana has a spy in Camelot; there may be more to it than just a mole in the court," Leon offered, looking just as perplexed as Arthur.

"Can you make any sense of that?" Arthur glanced at Manafort, who appeared to be deep in thought. "We know Morgana was sniffing around about Druids and prophecies. Apparently, she was attempting to barter something - I assume to be information, in return for Merlin's life. I sent one of my men to the Druids to see if he could learn anything, but all he overheard was something about warlocks, beasts, and a mount of the nine. I'm not sure any of that is even related to this."

"It must be," Manafort nodded. "The Ictis and the Mount of the Nine are the same, or once were." Manafort pointed the group into the small sitting room he and Arthur had disappeared into earlier, leaving Marcus alone with his patients.

"The nine refers to the high priestesses," Manafort continued, as the group settled in more private quarters. "They took girl children exceptionally skilled in magic to the mount for training, but only the most gifted could become one of the nine. The rest would be sent home, or inducted into an ancient order of the Bendrui, who serve the Catha - High Priests of the Old Religion. The nine lived and presided over the mount, and were said to be the intermediaries between the mortal realm and the nine goddesses. In ancient times the mount was the Ictis, but after an attempted Roman invasion, they joined the priests on the Isle of the Blessed. I was under the impression all but one was killed in the purge, and the one that lingered was dispatched in recent years."

"Mount Batten?" Cador's eyes widened.

"Yes. In ancient times it was called the Ictis."

"It's a tiny islet just off the coast of Cerniw," Cador explained, as Arthur had turned his attention to his cousin, eyes raised. "Since it's not the mainland it's not protected by the enchantment over the Kingdom, so we've been mostly cut off from it. There are ancient tunnels between the Isle and the shore, but Bruta cut the Roman's off by collapsing them and sinking the Adlanko Bridge on top of them, with the assistance of the high priestesses. The Saxons attempted to reach the mount a few years before they captured Camelot, but Merlin's grandfather cut them off by sea."

"Doesn't Morgana calls herself a high priestess?" Arthur asked, rubbing the nape of his neck.

"She calls herself a Queen too, but that doesn't make it so." Manafort raised his brow at the King, rejecting the notion entirely. "Morgana benefits from her father executing those who could have easily opposed her, or tell her otherwise. I have no doubt Morgause told her she was a high priestess, for whatever reason suited her needs, maybe she even held a little ritual, but that doesn't make it valid to the goddesses." Manafort shook his head. "Nimueh was the last of the nine, and she's dead."

"Do you think she's trying to raise the bridge?" Leon asked.

"I don't know. A Saxon invasion could be imminent if she is. Particularly the reference to the beasts. I've heard a tale of creatures Vortigern brought with them during their attempted sieges. But, even if Morgana were a High Priestess, she would not be powerful enough to raise the bridge on her own."

Arthur shook his head in confusion. "It makes no sense. If she's trying to raise the bridge what would that accomplish for her or the Saxons? The tunnels lead into Cerniw and they can't enter with the enchantment in place."

"Yes" Manafort countered, "but if they empty the tunnels, they might not be trying to access Cerniw, they might be trying to go around it. The tunnels are said to run along the Batten peninsula so near the border they could open in Camelot or further points north. But the bridge rests on top of the tunnels, it would be impossible for anyone to pass unless it was raised."

"Why would she send a message like this to Camelot when it's sure to come to my attention. There is no way the guards would not have noticed and intercepted that woman; she's filthy and hysterical."

"Perhaps you're meant to see it, but she wants you to believe otherwise. She'd know you can't ignore it. It's bait."

"Well, I'm not inclined to bite so willingly these days." Arthur shook his head, "if Cerniw is cut off from the Isle because of the enchantment, we are too. We'd have to go by water, and they'd be waiting for us."

"I don't believe it's an announcement, My Lord. It's a summons. Perhaps she's counting on you not knowing what any of it means and investigating it." Manafort replied.

"She's looking for a warlock," Leon suggested.

"There are no such things as warlocks, Leon. It was a bedtime story."

Manafort's eyebrows reached his hairline. "I wouldn't say that, Sire."

"Ok, let's say warlocks do exist, why would she send a summons meant for one to Camelot and make it so easy for me to find?"

"I don't know," Manafort replied. "It might be her way of trying to find out who he is, or seeing if he's close enough to get it and respond, or react."

"You truly believe he exists?" Arthur stared at the old Lord incredulously.

"He does," Manafort nodded.

"She's fishing as much as she's throwing out bait," Merlin scoffed with a shake of his head.

"I believe so. Morgana might not be aware you even know about the warlock; it's more likely centered around Saxony's son. It's long been a rumor that Vortigern sired an illegitimate daughter during his stay in Camelot. It is said she was given to the Druids to raise. If she's had a child, a son, particularly one with magic and he's in Camelot, it's possible she believes him to be the warlock, and she's baiting you to go looking, and lead her to him."

"Because her accomplice in Camelot can inform her of our activities, and what or who we find." Arthur nodded.

Merlin's brows furrowed as he listened to the King and Leon's father discuss the message the scroll contained. He knew was part of whatever it was Morgana was planning, considering the mention of his Druidic name in the first message, and Kilgharrah's warning, but he couldn't fathom out the rest of it. He wasn't going to help her raise a bridge to assist in a Saxon invasion, and she wasn't stupid enough to think he would. If Morgana could put together enough people to accomplish the task of raising the bridge that would pose a far larger threat than the Saxons. Arthur wouldn't see it that way, and perhaps the rest of the kingdoms would agree with him in the face of a full-on Saxon invasion,but he knew there was more to it than that. There had to be.

The priestesses might be gone, but the Catha were not, which stood to reason the Bendrui were also still around. He'd like to think Alator would have warned him if Morgana was attempting to utilize the Catha or the Bendrui, but only having one interaction between them, he couldn't be sure. He had no idea how many priests there even were, or how much influence Alator had with them. The fact Morgana still didn't know he was Emrys was a good indication Alator had not turned on him and would be a good source for answers, but Merlin couldn't make a trip to Helva unnoticed in the best of times, he wouldn't be able to do so now. Surely Cerniw would notice if Morgana managed to raise the bridge or was trying to, so she would need someone on the throne there willing to look the other way, and the witch knew damn well he would never do that.

"This has got to be it, Arthur." Merlin looked up, abruptly returning to the conversation. "If I take that crown, Morgana knows I will send the whole of Cerniw's Army out there to fight with Camelot's to stop a Saxon invasion."

"Which is a good reason to put a bounty on your head to make sure you don't take it."

Eyes wide, Cador whistled. "Arthur led you directly into an ambush. If you had died the first reaction would have been to go to war to avenge you. The entire kingdom from the nobility to the peasantry would have demanded it. The Saxons could have used it as cover; Cerniw gets bypassed and left out of the invasion; Morgana takes Camelot, and the Saxon's take the rest of the kingdoms."

"That kind of strategy is beyond Morgana's ability," Leon stammered.

Merlin agreed, conceding the point. He had been taking a taking a stab in the dark, but he had to admit it fit. Even Arthur looked impressed with his cousin, though slightly sick at the implications and how close they had come to that scenario being a reality.

"Well they only had one shot at it, and it didn't work because I'm still here. If Morgana has a mole in the court, then she's aware Cador and Galahad are here, and we're both aware of who I am."

"She could have sent this hoping we'd come to this conclusion and you head straight there to try and cross the border." Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, before locking eyes with the warlock. "That must be why Niviane was so upset with me for bringing you there. They're already out there lying in wait."

"Which means Niviane stopped them and set this in motion so that I'd find out who I am and we would know what was going on."

"No. Niviane had no idea any of this was going on," Cador shook his head, looking between the two royals. "That ambush near the border blindsided all of us. It's possible she's learned things since, but without returning to ask her, it's impossible to know what."

"We have to go to Cerniw, Arthur. That's the only way to find out if she's learned anything, and get close enough to the mount to see what is going on."

"What part of, they are stalking the border, did you not understand, Merlin. It's too dangerous!"

"You can't enter anyway," Cador interrupted. "Or so they say. I don't think anyone knows for sure, but it's assumed you can't pass through it until you turn twenty-one. The only way to find out is for you to go there and try to cross it, but Arthur's right; it's too dangerous."

"Sire," Gwaine popped his head into the room, catching everyone's attention. "We've got the boy. Galahad's taking him to his mother now."

"His condition? Please tell me you got the men holding him?"

"The boy is fine, the men hold him... It was them or us; we had no choice but to dispatch them."

Arthur nodded. "I want her to travel to Camelot as she was intended to. You two follow behind her at a safe distance and bring whomever she delivers the scroll to in for questioning, but do it quietly."

"You plan to use her as bait?" Merlin asked.

"I want to let this play out for the benefit of Morgana's mole. We just need to play along, learn as much as we can, then plant a false trail, and hope they follow it, while we move in the other direction and try to get ahead of this."

Merlin nodded as Arthur, Gwaine, and Leon left the room, leaving him wondering if he should follow or not. Everything was weird now between him and Arthur. Usually, if he had jumped into that type of conversation Arthur would give him annoyed looks, and make snide remarks in his direction, even if he was right. Even when they'd teased each other earlier, it was different, and he couldn't quite put his finger on it, other than to say it was awkward, and in some ways felt forced.

Cador had spooked him, and the more he thought about it all, the more his insides twisted. Arthur couldn't harm him, physically at least, unless he'd caught him off guard, so he wasn't really worried about that. From everything he'd heard, though, Cerniw and Camelot were not on friendly terms. He supposed that was understandable, given the purge and the issues between their fathers, but he didn't want to repeat it. He would not be Arthur's enemy, whether Cador or anyone else in Cerniw understood that or not. He knew Arthur better than he knew himself, but when it came to Uther, Arthur was unpredictable. If people attempted to pit Arthur against him because of their father's relationship, he wasn't sure how that would go for him or their friendship. He had faith Arthur would eventually come around. He had to. He would never have survived all these years if he didn't believe Arthur would do the right thing in the end. But Arthur tended to act first, think second, and make amends last if they were warranted. It had always been the initial reaction that frightened him and caused him to continue hiding.

He'd thought it would be easier when Arthur was King, but even taking the circumstances of Uther's death of out of it, it was much harder. As King, he had far more responsibilities and people in his ear trying to influence him one way or another. Despite the incident with Annis, Arthur was still a new enough King he was easily swayed by his council, particularly if one invoked Uther as an example of behavior he should adopt, or decisions he should make. He may have eventually realized he was wrong and stopped a war with Annis, but a fat bit of good that did Caerleon's King. He didn't get his head back, Annis was still without a husband, and her Kingdom had been severely destabilized as a result of it. It was only now, a year later, that Caerleon had begun to recover from the incident, while Arthur and Camelot had continued on like nothing had happened once the war was thwarted.

Listening to Cador tell them how close Morgana had come to manipulating war had he died shook him. Whatever happened now between he and Arthur had consequences far larger than just their friendship. It had always been that way to some extent, even without the knowledge of Cerniw or that he was the heir to a throne, but this was the first time he truly felt the weight of it burden his shoulders. He'd gone through the motions at first, and then it was because he genuinely cared about Arthur, and about Camelot and everyone he loved there. Maybe it had just felt lighter in the past because of that, but now there was another kingdom involved, and it was full of people whose lives had been affected and would continue to be by the decisions he made and his relationship with Arthur. It always had been, despite the fact neither of them had known it. Ignorance really was bliss, and it gave him a whole new respect for the burden Arthur shouldered every day. Whether he took that crown or not, there had to be peace between Cerniw and Camelot, and the secrets he'd been forced to keep was going to be a big obstacle with Uther's son.

"There might be another way to get you through the border." Manafort spoke up, breaking the silence that had fallen upon the room after Arthur's departure. Merlin realized the two men had been watching him as he'd stared off into space and got lost in his thoughts.

"How?" Merlin raised his brow, studying the man. He still didn't know what to make of Leon's father. He'd met the Lord hundreds of times over the years, and never once had he acknowledged him, or made any indication he'd known anything.

"I'm not sure how much you know about when the Saxons seized Camelot."

"The basics," Merlin replied, watching the man curiously.

"Alright," Manafort nodded, leaning back in his chair. "When Vortigern commandeered Camelot, your grandfather blamed himself for the death of Arthur's grandfather. He was resolved to return Camelot to Uther, and became fixated on finding a way for the royal family to escape in the event of a siege, so what happened to Constantine never happened again. He also wanted it to be a secret entrance to the citadel so that reinforcements could enter and stage an ambush from within against any usurper that successfully took the castle. Militarily it was a sound strategy. It still is. It took a decade, but he and Kilgharrah determined a way that Aurelianus could harness the dragon's magic to create a passageway between the kingdoms, from inside the citadel. But I believe it can only be opened with magic."

Merlin stiffened locking eyes with the former Knight, who smiled knowingly at him.

"You vanquished every flame for a quarter league with your first wailing scream of life, Merlin. I'm well aware of what you're capable. You have nothing to fear from me."

Merlin sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face. "A quarter league?"

"Yes, it was incredible, enough so for rumors to spread, which put you both in danger."

"Both? My mother," Merlin clarified breathlessly, as the answer dawned on him. Panic now taking root in his chest as he stared at the older Lord, now nodding in agreement.

"That village no longer offers her the anonymity that shielded both of you all these years. Now that your identity is known, some may seek to use her as bait or as a weapon against you, or against Cerniw. I was planning on riding out to get her and bring her here until I figured out what was going on before you all showed up and delayed me. The safest place for her right now is in Cerniw, which means you need to try and open the passageway your grandfather built, and if you can cross it, pass her through it."

"I'm going after her," Merlin stalked towards the door. He'd always worried his mother might be a target used against him - especially by Morgana - but he'd never been able to convince her to come to Camelot and stay there. He wouldn't take no for an answer, this time. He could not protect her in Ealdor.

"Merlin, wait," Cador called after him. "It's too late in the day, and Arthur will ask questions. I'll send Galahad for her in the morning to escort her to Camelot."

"Cador's right. I'll go with him; you need to go back to Camelot and find the passageway and try to open it."

Merlin stopped and stared at the two men, he hardly knew, unsure if he could trust his mother with them. Kilgharrah had trusted Cador, but he still wasn't sure what to think about Leon's father.

"Why are you so interested in my mother?" He finally asked, locking eyes once again with the older man.

"Because I swore an oath to your father if something happened to him, I would make sure she was safe. I don't intend to break the last promise I made to my friend and king."

Merlin nodded, once again overwhelmed. He had no reason not to believe him, and it seemed he and his father had a long history. Even Cador trusted him, whereas he was untrusting of everyone else. Rubbing the nape of his neck, he sunk into a chair opposite the noble.

"So where's this passage, and how does it work?"

"I don't know. Those details were only kept to the royal family. Only a handful of us even knew of its existence. I do know it opens directly in Cerniw and all three of you boys' parents used it regularly to pass back and forth between the kingdoms, as a matter of convenience."

"Uther used it?"

"This was years before Uther turned against magic or considered outlawing it. Once he did, he threw everything he had at it. He almost tore down an entire wing of the castle to get rid of it, so I know the general area it's in. In time he determined it couldn't be reopened because he believed everyone who could open it was dead. Eventually, he stopped monitoring it, at least not as closely. If you can locate it and figure out how to open it, it would be a good way to pass through to Cerniw without having to go to the border, or tip anyone off that you're doing so. And should you find yourself in trouble, it's a fast way to safety."

"But we don't know I can cross it because of the enchantment."

"It's possible you can't until you come of age, but it's possible that you can. It's a much safer way to try without traveling to the border."

"So what, it's like a tunnel?" Merlin asked confused but admittedly intrigued by the idea. It would be a solution to allow him to learn about Cerniw and figure things out there, without having to leave and leave Arthur and Camelot unprotected.

"No. I don't know how it works, only that it's there."

"But my mother would know?"

"She would know where it is, but as far as I am aware only Bal, and Uther, knew how to open it."

"And they're dead."

"Yes, but Kilgharrah isn't. You may need to ask him."

"I can't call him right now, he was spotted and Arthur's hunting him."

"Gaius might know."

"Of course he would," Merlin muttered.

"Arthur's going to throw a fit. You know that right?" It might be a short-term solution, but if Merlin were to use it regularly, there was no way Arthur couldn't know about it.

"If he finds out, yes. But once something's created it cannot be undone. It's there. It's been there Arthur's entire life. Short of tearing down the castle, he can't stop its existence - Uther already tried. If he's told about it now, he's not likely to allow it to be opened, and if it already is, he'll question how you did it."

Chapter 12

"I'm sorry," he whispered as his mentor held his hand up and waved him off.

"You are within your right to be upset. I'm just glad that you're all right. I was worried."

"I know, and I'm sorry for that too."

Merlin collapsed on the four-poster bed in his new chambers, more exhausted than he wanted to admit to any of them, most of all Gaius. The return trip had been slow, due to the transport of Maria, the injured young girl who had seemed beyond saving. Merlin healed her head injury shortly after his discussion with Manafort, but Arthur had still wanted to interrogate her. The prospect made the warlock nervous considering the conversation that had occurred in her presence and his recollection of what Morgana had overheard in a similar state, years prior.

Being only himself, Arthur, and Cador, the return trip was awkward, and there were very few opportunities for private conversation, especially about his father's identity. The two Pendragons had been cordial but aloof, and Merlin had vowed to have a talk with the Cerniw knight about his wariness of Camelot's King. If he was honest with himself, conversation with Cador, beyond polite pleasantries, was still awkward for Merlin as well. He could only imagine how the King felt about it. Cador was Arthur's first cousin and a much closer relation to Arthur than to him. Still, he felt an overwhelming curiosity toward the man, and the knowledge of his family the Knight was privy to. He could only imagine it was much more so for Arthur, who had grown up believing he had no surviving family, outside of his mother's brother, who had only shown up for more than a casual visit, when his father grew ill, then promptly betrayed him.

"I've only ever tried to protect you, boys." Gaius's voice brought him back to the present, the guilt in the old man's eyes unnerving him.

"I know that." Merlin nodded quietly, "but it shouldn't have been kept from me."

He was still upset with his guardian, even if it was petulant, time would be needed to forgive him for withholding such vital information.

"You're reckless enough without that knowledge. It's one thing to have magic; it's quite another to have magic and be a monarch of a kingdom Camelot has declared war on. The likelihood Arthur would have found out and turned on you were higher, especially while Uther was alive."

"Do you think he will? Turn on me, I mean?" Merlin whispered, his mind returning to the previous conversation with Cador and Manafort.

"I don't know my boy, I'd like to think he wouldn't, but he will be under tremendous pressure to do just that. I foresee very trying times ahead for both of you. Forgive an old man for trying to spare you both that, until you were ready to face it."

"We're not children, anymore, and ignorance is a powerful weapon. For all the honorable intentions, we walked into an ambush, unaware. We have no choice but to face it."

Merlin felt bad admonishing his guardian, but too much was at risk. This situation was so much bigger than hurt feelings. Two Kingdoms and the lives of everyone in them hung in the balance. The more he thought about it, the heavier the weight of it felt on his shoulders. He didn't need the extra burden of wondering if there were any shoes left to drop.

Gaius nodded wistfully in acknowledgment. "I suppose it is time to recognize you are both grown men and capable of taking care of yourselves. But I worry about him learning of your magic, Merlin. If you intend to tell him, at least wait until you've come of age, and can..."

"I have to remind him who my father was, at least. It won't be long before people make the connection. Some already have. It will reach his ears eventually. I'd rather it came from me."

"Be that as it may until you can enter Cerniw, should he react poorly, you may find yourself, and all those loyal to you, trapped."

All those loyal to you. Surely Arthur would not take it out on Gaius, though Merlin couldn't be one hundred percent sure of it. He knew Arthur would not stoop to execution, but the King was plenty angry about all of this already, so he couldn't rule tantrum induced imprisonment out, even if it were short term. Then again, Arthur was far from the only concern. Many people hated magic as much as Uther, and Arthur couldn't be everywhere at once. There was no way to know if others would strike out against all the people he cared about, whether they were loyal to Arthur, or not. Gaius's history and connection to magic was not a secret to the court; he could become a target. Of course, all of it would be moot if the passage Manafort had spoken of could be located.

"Manafort mentioned something about a passage King Aurelianus had built before Uther turned against magic."

Merlin watched his guardian carefully, gauging his reaction as the old man's eyebrows lifted into his hairline. "He said, if I can find it, and open it; I may be able to pass through it. More importantly, I can move my mother through it, should things become dangerous, here. You know I wouldn't leave you behind."

Gaius nodded, apprehensively, "I do know that, but opening it is not that simple. That passage is the reason I chose this room when Arthur instructed me to arrange your quarters. I had hoped your mother would notice and be the one to inform you of it, but it seems Manafort has beaten us to it." Gaius smiled, a hint of mischief his in eyes, as he patted the warlock on the shoulder and made his way across the chamber. "Arthur's mother and her sister, Elaine, primarily used them to pass back and forth between the kingdoms. There is one here in Camelot, and a nearly identical one in Cerniw that opens in what used to be Benoic's citadel."

"There are two? He only spoke of one." Merlin watched his guardian curiously as he pushed a bookcase to the side revealing a door hidden behind it.

"Your grandfather only created one passage, your father created the second one in Cerniw, with King Ban's help, at Uther's request."

"Uther asked for it?" Merlin blinked, as his jaw dropped. He had heard the old king ask for magic once before, but the idea of it still rattled him.

"Yes," Gaius nodded. "Ygraine nearly turned down the betrothal to Uther to stay close to her sister and your Mother. The passage your grandfather created between Cerniw and Camelot modified an existing door. Since there was only the one here, they created the passage leading to Benoic, in Cerniw. When Elaine wished to pass through to Camelot, she would have to go through both kingdoms."

Merlin marveled at the thought, and couldn't help but wonder how different life might have been for all had Ygraine survived Arthur's birth.

"The passage was open and used for years by the royal families until your father banished Uther from Cerniw and closed it permanently, preventing anyone but himself, from opening, or passing through it."

"Why was he banished?" Merlin wasn't about to let an opportunity to understand what happened between them go, though the look on his guardian's face let him know the attempt was pointless.

"I do not pretend to know every aspect of the complexity of their relationship, and I won't regale you with rumor."

"Fine." Merlin nodded, slightly frustrated, but willing to let it go for now if only to get the information about the passageway he wanted.

"So, my father could open it and come to Camelot, but Uther couldn't do the same?"

"Yes. Not that Bal would have done. Your father vowed never to step foot in Camelot again, and he kept to that for quite some time. Uther was furious about being cut off from the doorway, but your father would not be swayed. After Ygraine's death, Uther threw everything he had at the door, first attempting to open it, then trying to destroy it."

"If only my father could open it, that pretty much ends it then. He's dead."

"Not necessarily. The way Aurelianus built it, the ability to open the door would be passed on to a blood heir with a legitimate claim to the throne, by ascension."

"Which means I can open it, but Arthur can't?" Merlin wasn't sure how he felt about that, and he was positive Arthur would throw a fit over the restriction.

"It's possible. Whether the banishment and loss of such a privilege extended to Uther's heirs or not, I do not know. Your ability to open the door when you were King was never in doubt, the issue is getting to it. Uther sealed it off."

"I have to try."

With that Gaius nodded, opening the nondescript door at the back of the room, revealing nothing but a solid stone wall behind it.

"This room was turned into chambers after the passage was locked, and Uther realized he could not tear down the drum tower containing it without tearing down the entire citadel. Before that, this room was a receiving chamber, and beyond these stones is a stairwell leading to the office and quarters of the Court Sorcerer. The passage uses a door within that stairwell."

"Camelot had a Court Sorcerer?" Once again, the idea that this all existed at a time when Uther was King floored him.

"As hard as it must be for you to imagine, it was common back then. All the kingdoms had one, and your father was proficient in magic for one not instructed by the Priests or Priestesses. More importantly, Uther trusted him, so it was he, that filled the role before Arthur's birth."

"So, it's not just a passageway beyond there, it's my father's office, and chambers?" Merlin looked at the door again longingly, wondering what, if anything, of the man he longed to know so much more about, had been left in the rooms that Uther had entombed decades before.

"Indeed," Gaius nodded, "not that he used them much. Bal preferred Cerniw. The rooms here were mostly ceremonial, but no less, official."

Merlin nodded his understanding, running his hand over the stones, as his magic searched for a weakness he could exploit.

"Surely you realize blasting through that wall will alert Arthur, and the rest of the castle."

"Who said I was going to blast through them?" Merlin moved toward the bed, with a grin, bending to lift a floorboard that was not there. "All I need to do is magic the wall away, and then magic it…ugh," the warlock groaned, realizing he was no longer in his old room, before whispering a summoning spell, bringing the old leather tome to his hands.

"And where do you think you're going to hide that, in here?" Gaius raised his brow at his ward, now flipping through the book. "If George doesn't find it, he'll certainly walk in on you at some point."

"George?"

"Yes, or have you forgotten you are royalty now? You don't have a staff of your own. Arthur wouldn't risk it being taken as an offense to your kingdom if he didn't provide you with amenities befitting your status. "

"He knows I wouldn't be offended; he was trying to be a prat." Merlin huffed in annoyance, confident the young king planned to enjoy every minute of his discomfort.

"Don't be so sure. You were unconscious, and Sir Cador and Galahad are easily offended, especially when they arrived. Being a prat, as you say, was likely a bonus."

"Without a doubt," Merlin rolled his eyes, worried by the development. "I can always count on Arthur's sense of nobility to complicate things."

"Indeed," Gaius agreed.

"Well, I need to find a way to make it work." Merlin murmured to himself, as he thumbed through the book. This passage was more than a potential escape route; it was an answer to the problem he had been trying to work out since his conversation with the dragon.

Deep down, he didn't think it would come to his needing escape – at least he hoped it didn't. But it would allow him to figure things out in Cerniw, while also continuing his duty in Camelot. He would not abandon his friend, even if his friend temporarily abandoned him. Thinking back to his conversation with Kilgharrah, if it was a literal doorway, as Gaius implied, this must be what he meant by knowledge of the past opening doors to the future. He also liked the idea of having an exit in case of emergency, not just for himself, but for Arthur, Gwen, and the knights. If Morgana managed to capture Camelot again, the strategy was brilliant. This passage would be an asset in keeping his friends safe, should the need arise. He'd just need to find a way to convince Arthur, and hope he'd overlook the magic to see the wisdom in it.

"He didn't fill the entire tower in did he? Because if I can detach each stone and move it, I might not have to blast through it, at all." Merlin looked back to his guardian, apprehension lining the older man's face.

"No," Gaius finally responded, with a curt shake of his head. "Only the doorway was filled in to cut off access to the stairwell beyond it. But, that would require a lot of magic and concentration, in your condition…"

"I'm fine."

Pushing all of his energy into the stones, Merlin began the task of detaching each one, dissolving the masonry that held them together, and moving them one by one, carefully stacking them within the tower stairwell that slowly appeared beyond it. Finally, after an hour, the winded warlock carefully cleared the last of the stones, and stepped into the drum tower, sneezing as cobwebs and dust assaulted him. A quick wave of his hand saw the offending particles dissipate giving him his first look inside the tower that once housed his father's office.

It didn't look any different than the tower stairwell that led to the physician's chambers he had called home, with the exception that there was no entrance from the outside and it was completely closed off. Merlin couldn't help but wonder what might be below the floor he now stood on, since his chambers were on the second floor of the Citadel. At the back of the circular room, a winding staircase led up to what he was sure were the chambers above, though the stairs leading down were crudely filled in with stones. Knowing his curiosity would eventually get the best of him, he made a mental note to investigate what was on the floor below, later.

"Have I ever told you, you're a genius?" Gaius shook his head, marveling at the stones, now stacked neatly on the other side of the door.

"You might have gotten close once or twice," the warlock huffed leaning back against the wall, wiping perspiration from his brow. The concentration needed not to drop the stones and stack them in a way that wouldn't cause them to collapse, had drained him, though he'd play it off to his mentor, for fear he'd be ordered back to bed.

"You amaze me." Gaius shook his head, "I know of none that could have completed the feat of magic so quietly and quickly, and still manage to stand at the end of it."

"It wasn't that difficult, really, just detaching the stones in a way that they wouldn't cause the rest to fall…"

"Yes, that's why you look like you're going to fall over." Gaius raised his brow, turning to take his leave. "I think that's plenty enough for the night. That door isn't going anywhere. To bed with you, you can attempt it once you've rested."

"I'm fine." Merlin murmured stubbornly, his eyes locking onto a door to the right of the staircase, and the faint thrum of magic he could now sense radiating from it. He was certain it had once been a broom closet, similar to those found all through the citadel. A door such as this would easily be overlooked by an invading army. King Aurelianus had overlooked nothing in his attempt to secure an escape route for the royal family. A small gasp escaped his lips, as he ran his hand over the wood, and the magic embedded within it tingled beneath his fingertips. The idea that King Aurelianus was his grandfather was still foreign and strange to him, but the magic he could feel radiating off the former closet, was not - it sang to him in a way he would never be able to explain to any other living being, except, maybe, Kilgharrah. This wasn't merely magic from the dragon, it was mixed with the magic of his ancestor, and the connection was as thrilling as it was intriguing. He could feel his grandfather's instruction, his pride, and strength, as surely as he felt his father with him on the day he commanded the dragon for the first time. Whispering the command that reverberated through his soul as the magic recognized him as kin, he shouted triumphantly at the loud click, and he easily pulled the door open.

"It worked" he grinned as the old physician looked on in awe.

"Now comes the hard part," Gaius raised his brow, staring at the door wistfully. "The enchantment is a strong one even your father could not undo without meeting its conditions. I fear until your naming day, crossing it may be an impossibility."

The passage was as he thought, a simple broom closet, with the exception the wall at its back appeared mostly translucent alerting him to the enchantment used to mask its appearance. To anyone else, it looked like a solid wall which he quickly confirmed with Gaius, who still seemed dumbfounded at the ease in which he had managed to open it. Uther must have gone for the same effect when he'd sealed off the chamber, and he had to admit, it was effective.

"I should know better than to underestimate your abilities, my boy, but should you manage to cross, your appearance there will cause quite a stir. You would do well to remember people in Cerniw still communicate with friends and family outside the kingdom by letter, and there is a traitor in both courts. There's no way of knowing how long it will take to reach Arthur's ear should you make your presence known." Gaius warned as Merlin nodded, held his breath, and stepped through the haze.

---

A sudden shift in energy around her caused her to stiffen, eyes wide as a noise she had only heard one other time in her life reverberated through her, gaining in intensity by the minute. The dragons were approaching.

"My Lady?" Ava set the pitcher on the table and stared at the Princess with concern. "What is it?"

"I don't know... the dragon," Niviane stammered jumping out of the chair and rushing out of the room, down the corridor and out onto the battlements, joining the townspeople below staring at both dragons circling over the inner bailey spitting flame, with bewilderment.

It was an incredible display, as the smoke from their flame quickly changed to blue and silver, and began to morph into an image, likely visible to the entire kingdom, and perhaps beyond.

"What is the meaning of this?" Lord Murdoch asked as he moved next to her, watching the display in wonderment.

"Merlin must have crossed the enchantment, and they're announcing him. I can think of no other explanation for this."

"By the Goddess, could it be? How," the balding man stuttered.

"There." She pointed as the small white dragon dove toward the citadel and hovered in front of a now open window beating her wings wildly.

"He's right there," she laughed at the sight of the excited dragon chirping at the raven-haired man standing in front the window, before shooting back up into the sky and joining her older counterpart in completing the smoky Ambrosius crest they were creating.

She looked back to the window to find him staring at the sky in awe, a grin covering his face as the Dragons completed their work. His shoulders were much broader than she remembered, but then he'd been lying down and injured, so she hadn't gotten a good look at him. His dark blue tunic was befitting a man of his station, and she found she was pleased he was no longer dressed in rags like he'd been wearing that fateful day.

Cador and Galahad must have completed their mission, successfully. She gave a sigh of relief at the thought, having spent the last week worried over the Knights and Merlin's fate, despite the report she'd gotten when the large contingent of men they'd traveled with had returned, days prior. Begrudgingly she was impressed Arthur must have accepted and acknowledged Merlin's ancestry, while Uther wouldn't have hesitated to execute him for it. Perhaps her cousin wasn't the lost cause she'd assumed him to be. Oddly, she found she sincerely hoped that to be the case.

The attention of the people in the square below had turned from the smoky crest in the sky, towards the window as Kilgharrah flew as close as he was able, and inclined his head reverently to the warlock. Dawning comprehension of who stood there quickly turned the mystified hum into a chorus of cheers and shouts, drawing the man's attention from the now retreating dragons, to the people below. Niviane watched him curiously, as his smile turned into apprehension. Giving a small wave to the crowds below him, he closed the window and quickly disappeared from view.

"Find Lucan," she called out to the maid as she turned back into the castle, Ector falling into step beside her.

"How?" She asked finally realizing he'd had to have magicked his way past the wards to just show up in the castle, and that didn't even account for crossing the enchantment to get into the kingdom.

"I've got a pretty good idea," he called out as he rushed ahead of her towards the Royal chambers.

"Where is he?" Niviane murmured with disappointment as they entered the room, noting how empty it was, save for the furniture that had been there since long before she was born. Had she not seen the warlock with her own eyes, she'd have never guessed anyone had been in the chambers, save the manservant tasked with their upkeep.

"It appears he's gone, the way he came." The older man nodded toward the open door in the antechamber adjacent to the suite reserved for the King and Queen. Stopping her frantic search of the large suite, she approached the closet incredulously. "My brother must have told him of the door," Ector whistled, now standing in front of the faux closet.

"It's an empty closet," the princess deadpanned, looking at her unofficial guardian with confusion.

"No, my dear, the wall at the back is an enchantment, it's as real as those rocks on the border, to those who cannot pass.

"And to those who can?"

"It opens to one of Camelot's many towers, it's been closed for many years for obvious reasons."

"But how? If this has been here, surely King Balinor would have used it to return; it makes no sense."

"The level of magic used to create this is beyond my knowledge, I only know Aurelianus created it with the help of the dragons. I can't pretend to know how it works. However, I do know it's been inaccessible. The tower that houses it is very near the royal residences, and from what I understand, Uther had half of his guard camped out in that corridor until Arthur was old enough to start asking questions. Balinor would never have risked his family attempting to reach it."

"So how do we cross it?" Niviane asked hopefully, intrigued by the possibility such a door made possible.

"You don't," Merlin answered, snorting with amusement as the princess and court physician spun to face him. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

The room fell awkwardly silent, as neither the princess nor the court physician had realized Merlin had been leaning against a cupboard just beyond the antechamber, in the larger suite, silently watching them.

Recovering quickly, Niviane gave a small curtsey, even as she struggled not to curse out loud at the warlock not making himself known, sooner.

"You know magicking your way past the wards is impressive, but opening a portal between kingdoms is kind of showing off." Niviane smiled, now thoroughly intrigued with the warlock, as he leaned his head back and laughed.

"I wish I could take credit for it, it's a brilliant piece of magic, but created long before me. Niviane, I presume?"

"My lord," she nodded with concern, "it's good to see you well."

"All thanks to you, but please, just Merlin. I'm still working out the whole titles thing,"

"Of course. I know that I'm responsible for all of this being sprung on you like it has, I wouldn't blame you, if you're cross with me."

"No, I'm not" he turned toward her his expression serious. "I should have been told of all of this long before now. I needed to know."

"Well I'm glad for that then," the princess smiled, nodding toward the rooms they stood in. "I suppose I should formally welcome you to Cerniw. These are your chambers, though it seems you've already seen them in your grand entrance. Would you like a tour of the rest of the castle?"

"Yeah, about that. I hadn't anticipated that was going to happen," the warlock rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I was only trying to see if I could cross before my naming day. I had no intention of making my presence known here, at least not yet."

"So what shall I tell the council? The entire kingdom knows that you're here."

"I don't know, but it's important you don't reveal how I got here." He looked at her apologetically. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to put you in an awkward position, but I need to keep the knowledge of that door and, if possible, my presence here, to a restricted number of people." Merlin looked around the room, nodding to the older man.

"This is Ector, our court physician," Niviane offered, noticing his gaze change as he sized up the small group that had assembled in the room.

"Gaius's brother?"

"Indeed, I am," the physician inclined his head, stepping forward with a grin splitting his wrinkled face. "I've heard much about you in our letters. Gaius is so very proud of you; he never hesitates to brag. It's truly an honor to finally make your acquaintance."

"I'm sure he's embellished all of it," the warlock grinned, waving off the small bow the old man provided, shaking his hand instead.

"I doubt it, though the way you're favoring your side and leaning on that cupboard makes me wonder why he's allowed you out of bed."

"If he had his way I'd be in bed for the next fortnight. I'm afraid I make for a terrible patient. I'm fine, really," he waved the older man off, turning his attention to a stocky young man with freckles generously sprinkled across his thin face, and the dark-haired maid, standing off to the side watching him curiously.

"This is Ava, my maid, and her brother, Lucan," the princess continued, as the two servants inclined their heads, despite the warlock's obvious discomfort. "I assure you all present have the highest level of trust within the royal household and will keep anything said here in confidence. I presume Cador and Galahad are already privy to this information?"

"Cador is, yes. Galahad will be when he returns to Camelot with my mother. I intend to pass her through once I've determined it's safe to do so."

"Of course it's safe for her," Niviane started, scandalized by the notion Merlin thought it wouldn't be.

"Until I can determine what is going on and what role Morgana plays in it, the safest place for my mother is with me." The tone of the warlock's voice brokered no argument, as the smile slipped from his face. "Which reminds me, I need to know what you know about Morgana's conspirator, and any activity that is occurring near the mount. We have reason to believe her forces are gathering there."

"Mount Batten?" Niviane inquired, noting the change from nervous but casual to serious and self-assured. It was a subtle indication the man in front of them was friendly, but not one to take lightly. A quick glance at the others in the room confirmed she wasn't the only one who had noticed the shift in demeanor.

"I know very little, to be honest." Niviane sighed, resigned to the necessity of the conversation, no matter how unpleasant. "Initially, I believed my Uncle Ricard, to be responsible, but we found him shortly after the attack, unresponsive in his rooms."

"He's been poisoned, but by whom, we don't yet know," Ector added, apologetically. "I've done what I can for him, including administering the antidote, but I fear we may have gotten to him too late. It's possible he will not awaken at all."

"And the mount?"

"Once those who land there realize they cannot pass the enchantment at our shores, they tend to leave very quickly. We've not paid much attention to it, figuring our resources are better spent elsewhere, though there have been a few recent reports of wolves howling into the night."

"Beasts…" Merlin mused out loud.

"I'm sorry?" Niviane tilted her head in confusion at the warlock now lost in thought.

"Sorry," Merlin shook his head. "We intercepted a separate missive mentioning the mount and beasts gathering, there. We also know the Druids are leaving the area and have made mention of the same, though we know little more than that. Whatever is occurring there is connected to Morgana, of that, I'm certain."

"I'll send a patrol, at first light," Niviane nodded. "Will you be staying here or returning to Camelot, so I know where to direct their findings?"

"I'll be returning to Camelot, but I'll cross back and forth as much as I'm able."

"So you're going to be living in two kingdoms at the same time?"

"Living there, and visiting here. But Arthur can't know that, so I have to be careful. He'll notice if I'm constantly missing, and I've got the added problem of trying to hide all of this from George. I don't expect I'll be here much, unless it's late at night."

"Who is George?"

"The most insufferable manservant in Camelot, and my biggest obstacle. Cador and Galahad are not going to be able to use the 'sleeping draught due to injury, so no manservant allowed' excuse for very long."

"If Arthur has recognized your station, you're entitled to staff of your own."

"I am, but finding one in Camelot that's aware of my magic, trustworthy, and ok with all of this is asking a little much."

"Nonsense, you have Lucan. He's been trained to be your servant since he was a small boy, there's no reason he can't serve you in both kingdoms. He's got a little bit of magic, so you'll have to make sure he doesn't use it in Camelot, but he's one of the most trusted in the royal household. He wouldn't blink at the prospect of passing through the enchantment. He knows the business of the court and would be able to help you in anything you needed to keep your time straight. It'll provide you cover, and he's certainly not going to tell Arthur."

Merlin looked over to the short, stocky young man being spoken about as if he was not there.

"Are you all right with that?"

"Yes, Sire."

"Merlin. And, no, I need to know you're ok with it and not just saying you are because you believe it's your duty to do so. Magic is illegal in Camelot, and things are about to get very tricky over there for me when Arthur does finally figure out I've got it. I expect that will extend to those closely associated with me. Arthur's not his father, he wouldn't execute you based on your association with me, but I wouldn't put it past him to arrest you until he calms down. We're sneaking around, and you would be one of a growing number of people I'm responsible for getting to safety should it come to that. I won't allow you to cross unless you're entirely sure, understand the risks, and make the decision on your own. Arthur and his knights cannot find out about this door, so if you've any reservations…"

"I have none, Sire. I know I can't use magic in Camelot, nor will I."

"Merlin. If you do and you get caught and especially if I get caught, you make directly for my chambers and through that door and do not come back. Do not wait, do not stop, do not hesitate, do not look back, even if you must use magic to get away. Just, please try not to hurt anyone."

"I understand."

"As far as Arthur goes I need to know you have no apprehension toward him because near me you will likely be around him often."

"I understand that you seek peace with Camelot's King and follow that example, Sire. I would sooner die than be the cause of anything that would bring shame or embarrassment to my king or kingdom."

"Merlin."

"Of course, Sire."

Notes:

Oh Hai... Remember me? I may have gotten distracted by life and had to put this on hold for a little while. In my defense, I do have several chapters written and am in the process of editing them. I'm really sorry about the long wait. Work got crazy, and I went through a few personal things as well. Thanks so much to wryter501 for her continued input and nljfs for Betaing the chapter for me. I can't promise an update schedule, though I swear I'll never take this long between chapters again. Maybe every 2 weeks or so. I promise I will not abandon this story, though. I will finish it. As always IDOM. But I wish I did.

Chapter 13

"Sire" the door opening startled him awake causing him to throw his hand out in defense instinctively.

"Whoa, Whoa I'm friendly," Cador's exasperated voice echoed through the room, as the Knight stepped to the side to allow Lucan to enter with a tray of food and deposit it on the table.

Oh, right, today he'd start his double life. The freckle-faced youth must have gotten up before the crow, despite having been up late attempting to organize both rooms to his new master's liking. It hadn't taken long for the servant and warlock to butt heads, as the raven-haired monarch attempted to do things himself, and the exasperated young servant did everything in his power to beat him to it. Stealing a glance at the small antechamber Lucan had taken residence in to confirm the young man had slept, Merlin collapsed back into his pillows, throwing the blankets over his face in protest at the start of the day.

It had taken two hours to calm Gaius and explain everything to Cador when he'd returned to Camelot with the manservant. Cador had been thrilled by the development and spent much of the night going back and forth, helping Lucan, and organizing the patrol outside of the Cerniw chambers, with Gaius's nephew, Sir Kay, to stop the flow of curious nobles. Cador also helped Niviane mitigate some of the chaos that his appearance had created in the city.

Officially he had tested the wards and enchantment, arriving by magic, and leaving the same way, with a promise to return to learn more about the kingdom and integrate himself slowly into the court. It was the best they could do under the circumstances, and Merlin was grateful they'd gotten that far considering the council had already begun planning a coronation, which would have included notices to all the neighboring Kingdoms, had they not intervened.

The warlock groaned as Lucan opened the drapes and the sunlight assaulted him. For the first time, he felt some sympathy for Arthur over the crude awakening.

"G'morning" Merlin squinted through the bright light, refusing to stoop to Arthur's level by throwing a pillow at the servant. "You're sure you're Ok with this?"

"I am, Sire."

"Merlin."

"Of course, Sire."

A small twitch of the servant's lips alerted the warlock to the young man's amusement, as he continued with his task of setting out breakfast. If it were a battle of will the young man wanted, he'd met his match.

"You found your way to the kitchens, on your own?"

"George has been most accommodating. He's generously offered me any assistance I require while I learn my way around."

"So he wasn't upset then?"

"No, he's aware serving King Arthur is a more permanent position. I'd dare say he was relieved."

Merlin nodded his head, glad for that, at least. Just because he didn't like George, didn't mean he wished him ill. The man still needed to earn a living.

"The seamstress has brought you more clothing and would like time to make sure they fit so she can alter them if needed. I've set books on your desk from our libraries that should help with the history of the kingdom, Sir Gwaine has requested your attendance this evening for debauchery at the local tavern, and several of the kitchen maids nearly attacked me trying to learn the location of your chambers."

Merlin stared at the brunette, now smirking at him with a raised eyebrow as he reached the last part. "Uhh…Why?"

"They didn't say, Sire" Lucan drawled, shaking his head, as the warlock crawled out of the giant bed.

"Merlin."

A snort of amusement from the doorway reminded the new monarch of the knight's presence, diverting his attention from the battle of wills between the former servant and the current one.

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Merlin stared at the boy after looking around the room, finding it in immaculate condition. "You're good," he noted making his way to the table while making a mental list of all the ways he would corrupt the propriety out of the young man. "Have you eaten?"

"I have, Sire."

"Merlin," the warlock scowled. "I have to say it's sneaky to do all of that work while I'm sleeping, Lucan."

"Yes, well it's much easier when you're not trying to stop me," the serving boy smiled in response.

"I'll get up early tomorrow," the warlock grabbed a book off the desk and headed for the table where the food was laid out for him.

"Of course, my lord, "Lucan nodded and exited the room carrying the dirty clothes the secret sorcerer had worn the night before.

"Merlin," he yelled out as he opened one of the books and started eating.

"I don't think you're going to win that war, my lord."

"Oh, not you too. And yes, I will."

"Lucan's family has served yours for generations. The day he calls you Merlin, is the day I kiss a pig on his snout."

Merlin raised his brow at his second cousin, still standing in the doorway, a sly grin spreading across his face. "I'll take that bet, and I will hold you to it."

"And if he doesn't?" Cador laughed, leaning back against the chamber wall.

"He will."

"He's stubborn."

"So am I. Now make yourself useful and eat some of this food, God knows I can't eat all of this on my own. Arthur doesn't even eat this much."

"That's because you saw fit to starve me," Arthur strolled in casually, bemused at the sight of the former servant with his nose in a book as he picked at his food. "What do you have there?"

"History of Cerniw. It's fascinating. Did you know my, err our great- great grandfather felled a Roman army and blocked this part of the lands from falling under their invasions?"

"Really?"

"Yeah, and he did it with less than half their numbers."

"Maybe I'll read it."

"Right," Merlin scoffed, "Arthur Pendragon reading something for recreation? Who are you and what have you done with the king."

"Shut up." Arthur smiled, making his way to the table, and planting himself into the chair, opposite Cador, making no attempt to acknowledge him.

"I hear you told George he was all mine."

"Mmhmm," Merlin replied flippantly, inwardly bracing himself for a confrontation. He had no idea how Arthur would react, especially considering he'd sent a message to the castle steward informing him the servant's services were better suited for a more permanent position with Arthur.

"So you just went and hired someone?"

"Oh come off it, we both know you only gave me George to annoy me. I'll admit it was funny, for about an hour."

At that, Arthur laughed.

"So where did you find him?"

"Lucan? Oh, uh friend of Gaius. He needed a job, and I needed to get rid of George."

"Since you hired him, am I to assume he's on your bankroll, then?" Arthur's expectation he'd blanch and need a lesson in propriety and protocol was written all over his face, but the warlock had been expecting it and prepared for it. The time for hypothetical was over. As soon as he'd felt the bond in his grandfather's magic recognize him as kin, he knew it was time to embrace who he was. The connection to the old king was now as tangible to him as his bond with his father, and the dragons. He could not afford to mope about feeling sorry for himself over his change of status with both kingdoms under some degree of threat by Morgana. He'd just have to suck it up and get on with it. If that meant hiring staff, he didn't want so that he could move freely, so be it.

"He is," the warlock finally nodded, "turns out, I can afford it. Since nobody wants to let me get away without having a servant, I'd rather have one I can take with me, when I go to Cerniw."

"You intend to go, then?"

"We both know I'll have to. Even if it's only to settle my father's estate."

"This is going to take some getting used to."

"I almost came and woke you up this morning," Merlin agreed.

"I almost wish you would have." Arthur sighed in response, lifting himself from the chair and making his way back toward the door. "You'll be busy all day studying then?"

"Aww, Arthur do you miss me already?"

"Don't be stupid," the King answered too quickly and scowled at the grin the warlock gave him in response. "There's a council meeting in three-quarters of an hour. Leon and Gwaine are to give their report immediately following it."

"No obvious indication, then?"

"No, and no new prisoners in the cells, so I've little hope they were successful in finding out much."

"I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not."

"Nor I." Arthur shook his head making his way to the door.

"Arthur, wait. We need to have that conversation I promised you in the woods, preferably before your council meeting."

"We do, but I've got a pile of reports I've ignored in my distraction the past week. You've kept your secret's this long; they'll keep a few more hours. Just do me a favor and don't be late, or I'll send George to collect you."

A weight had settled in his stomach at the mention of a council meeting. No way that was going to happen without Arthur being reminded just who, exactly, Merlin's father was.

"And what exactly do you intend to tell them about all of this?" Merlin waved his arms towards the chambers he'd been gifted, in exasperation.

"Obviously, I have to make your identity known to the court."

"You sure that's a good idea?"

"Cador and Galahad were seen arriving, Merlin. It's a miracle I've gotten by this long without addressing it."

"You know, once you drag the court into it, there's no going back."

"You've just hired a servant of your own, and you have a retinue that includes a man who is a potential heir to my throne, standing guard outside your door. We're long past the point of going back."

"That doesn't mean you need to acknowledge it to the court, just yet, Arthur. There's still a traitor, and we don't know how much Morgana knows. Announcing Cador like that could make him a target as well."

"If you can think of some other explanation for their arrival, I'll consider it. Otherwise, I've little choice in the matter."

At that Merlin nodded, as the king opened the door. "Arthur, it'd do well for you to remember that..."

"Later, Merlin." Arthur shook his head and turned out the doorway, disappearing down the hallway.

"You met my father," the warlock finished the statement quietly knowing it had fallen on deaf ears. The weight that had settled in his stomach, now feeling much heavier than it had moments earlier. He has a horrible feeling this wouldn't end well.

---

"…opened their borders to thousands of vermin offering them refuge. It's better to keep the evil locked behind the mountains. Gods help us all if they escape infecting the rest of our lands."

"It's a travesty Uther never found out. He'd had his head returned to Cerniw on a pike."

"The gall of that boy to hide here as a servant in the court all these years."

"Can't believe that young man is Bal's son, should have seen the resemblance it's obvious now."

"I dare say there's none here that knew the old King that didn't know that boy on sight unless they were willfully blind to it."

"Nothing willful about it, Micah, Uther claimed he'd found the infant and did away with him and his mother. Why would we question it? Dreadful. Just dreadful. It'll be right nasty if some of the other kingdoms catch wind; been biding their time for the mountain to fall to stand up to the likes us."

"Like Dyfed?"

"Especially Dyfed. We must find a way to contain this."

Arthur's stomach dropped as the heated conversation in the council chambers echoed into the hallway, and he felt his best friend stiffen as the vile words assaulted their ears. Any chance he could keep Merlin's identity from the court was gone. They already knew. From the sounds of it, they had known for quite some time, and to some, it was considered common knowledge. Livid, he debated entering the room and telling them off for keeping it from him, and yet he found he could not move, in part because the man they were discussing was standing in front of him, slightly shaking as he clenched and unclenched his fists.

"Uther was looking for an excuse to execute the boy about the same time the dragon escaped and attacked; it all makes sense now."

"Of course, he sent the boy to lure Bal here. Uther intended to execute both once the beast had been killed. He even started planning a celebratory feast."

"Why didn't he then? Balinor perished, but Uther let the boy live, and that close to Arthur? It doesn't make sense."

"Nonsense, he had no quarrel with magic until he couldn't get anyone to wield it for him. He only killed all those dragons to spite Balinor, took that beast as a trophy, just to hurt him."

"Paraded that boy like a trophy too, Balinor's boy washing his son's britches was bound to come back and haunt us."

The boy was clueless to his identity and loyal to Arthur. Evidently, Uther saw that as an advantage."

"Clueless enough to command a dragon?"

"The boy didn't kill the dragon; he let him go. Uther wasn't a stupid man; If Merlin were harmed, the beast would have been merciless. It'd have killed Arthur in retaliation, and Camelot would have fallen. Damn thing injured the prince just to prove that he could."

"That Uther allowed him to keep his head, let alone stay in Camelot, proves his whole purge was hypocrisy and a personal vendetta."

"Sounds like your loyalties lie with them, Medwyn."

"I'm Camelot born and bred through and through; you'll speak no such disrespect to me, Conrad. Rewriting history doesn't change it."

"Uther was as traitorous and ruthless to his kin as Morgana, maybe more so. Almost poetic she turned on him like she did."

"They say Uther's betrayal put Aurelianus in a similar state, died of a broken heart. Reap what you sow, I say."

"This is outrageous! I should demand both of your heads for such treasonous insolence!"

"I agree, you should have no place on this council spewing such vitriol. The dragon lord was an abomination, and his brat is no different."

The piece of information he'd been overlooking this whole time knocked the wind from his lungs as he contemplated the horror of this reality. Balinor, the dragon lord. The dragon lord was Merlin's father. "Oh my God" Arthur gasped, reaching his hand for the wall to steady himself.

That's why the name was so familiar to him. That's why Merlin was so upset when he died. Merlin's father was the dragon lord, and from the sounds of it, his father had always intended to execute him, and Merlin right beside him, when they'd returned, and Balinor had killed the dragon. Arthur felt sick, bile rising in his throat as Merlin pushed past him, angrily, and stormed off down the hallway. He knew he should go after him, but he couldn't move, as the puzzle pieces finally began to click together.

"Merlin's father was the Dragon Lord!" Arthur hissed, spinning to face the approaching physician and historian, knowing the answer, but still needing to hear it confirmed.

"Sire?" Geoffrey questioned, though, Arthur noted, he'd immediately lost much of the coloring in his face.

"Balinor, the Dragon Lord that Merlin and I went to find when the dragon attacked was Merlin's father, and the King of Cerniw?"

"It was, Sire." Geoffrey nodded as Gaius turned his gaze to the floor.

"And my father knew?" Arthur wheezed as the words left his mouth.

"Arthur, things are complicated."

"Answer the question," the King seethed.

"Yes, Arthur, he knew."

"Who Merlin was? He was aware who Merlin was?"

"Yes."

"But Merlin didn't, right?"

"No, he had no idea, I told him who Balinor was right before you left to search for him, but I did not say his father was a King."

"But you told him not to tell me!" Arthur clenched his fists, barely able to contain his fury.

"I did, Sire. If Uther found out you knew he'd have killed Merlin in his sleep if that's what it took, and dealt with you, later."

"Did you know my father was planning his execution?"

"I did."

"And you didn't warn him of that?"

"It wasn't necessary. the dragon escaped and gave your father a warning of his own."

"Do not place yourself in the position to learn the same lesson your father did years ago about how precarious kingdom's sit when his life is threatened."

Arthur swayed where he stood as the implied threat from the sorceress who started this whole mess, replayed in his mind. He'd scoffed at those words, chalking it up to hyperbole and hysterics. Clearly, that was not the case. His breakfast, once again, threatened to make a reappearance as he remembered the stench of burnt flesh and death that hung over the city for weeks after the dragon attack.

"So you betrayed my father," Arthur, hissed, violently shrugging off the old man's hands as he'd reached out to steady him. Instead, he pressed his back against the wall behind him if only to steady himself, on his own.

"I did what was right," Gaius snapped. "If that's betraying your father, then yes, I did, and not for the first time over matters such as these. He knew when I suggested Balinor I was speaking to you knowing you would go and take Merlin with you, no matter what your father said. I almost lost my head for that, and I would not hesitate to do it again. Your father and I had no secrets, and you better hope Merlin never finds those things out, because we will lose him, and I don't know that we'll get him back."

"Oh, he's heard," Arthur shook his head violently, disgusted by the old man in front of him and the secrets he'd harbored while daring to smile in their face every day.

"If that's all he's heard, he's not scratched the surface, and neither have you. I warn you not to go digging too deeply into things, Arthur. Some things are best left buried."

"You have no standing to warn me about anything," Arthur scoffed, pushing past the two older men. "I want every record, Geoffrey, every damn text about dragon lords, Balinor, and my father, on my desk, by sundown."

"Sire, your father had all such texts burned."

"Then write a new book and get it to me by sundown," the king spat as he turned down the corridor, leading to Merlin's chambers.

---

Uther knew. Uther knew who he was, and used him to lure his father to his murder. He knowingly let the son of a dragon lord stay next to his son. The hypocrisy was so breathtaking he nearly choked on it. If Uther knew, that meant Gaius knew. The entire time his mentor was telling him to lie to Arthur because Uther might find out, and Uther had already known. What the hell were they playing at?

He'd never condone the outcome of Kilgharrah's actions, but he finally understood his motives. Even though he'd not realized it at the time, to threaten his life was an act of war and Kilgharrah had acted in defense of his king and his kin. Nothing more, and nothing less. It was hypocritical to judge when he'd wielded the dragon as a weapon against Helios's men in much the same way to defend Ealdor and his mother. They would have escaped Arthur's uncle, even if Merlin had to expose his magic to do it, but there was no question the small army would have razed Ealdor to the ground and killed all within it, in their pursuit. Three hundred men had died that day by his command, to protect his mother and the home he'd been raised. No, he was in no position to judge.

Cador had taken one look at him and known better than to say anything as he stomped down the hallway toward his chambers. Wordlessly the Knight got out of his way and turned his attention down the foyer waiting for the confrontation that must surely be coming.

Merlin knew Arthur would come, but it was Gwaine that had immediately followed him and now stood outside the door screaming at Cador to let him pass. The telltale sound of a gauntlet hitting the floor after Cerniw's Knight wouldn't budge prompted Lucan to glance at the door apprehensively before Merlin finally opened it and put his hand up to stop Gwaine's forward progress.

"What did he do," Gwaine hissed, the furious intensity on the errant knight's face letting the warlock know in no uncertain terms, he'd have a go at Arthur, without hesitation, if that's what it took to protect his friend.

"Why do you always assume I did something" Arthur yelled, himself bounding down the hall towards the chambers, looking like hell warmed over.

"I'm sick of it Gwaine; you're not the only person who gives a damn, now back off. That's an order."

"Gwaine, leave it. Arthur, don't. Just leave me be." Merlin held his voice as calm as he was able, which admittedly, wasn't very much.

"We need to talk about this."

"And what exactly is there to say, Sire? That your father's a bastard? I knew that I just didn't realize how much of a cruel, evil bastard he truly was. To think I pitied that man," Merlin spat, turning back toward the chambers, he now called home.

"That's enough," Arthur challenged, his instinctual protection of his father sent the warlock into a blind rage and charged at him, causing the king to take a shocked step back.

"Enough? No, that's not enough. It will never be enough. I don't condone his murder, but I'm happy that murderous, arrogant, hypocritical, traitorous, tyrant, ruling from his throne of lies, is dead. In two minutes, I'm so infected by his filth; I fear I'll never be able to wash it off. If you have ever considered me a friend, just leave me be until I can regain control of myself."

Arthur struggled for a minute unsure of what he was seeing in front of him and not liking it in the slightest before he finally managed to speak without breaking eye contact. "I know my father has done some things wrong, but he's still my father, and you're in my kingdom. You will show him some respect."

"RESPECT!?" The warlock roared. "My grandfather took him in as a child and raised him, my father fought next to him with his army to win this kingdom back so you could sit on that throne, and how does Uther thank him? He hunted him like an animal forcing me to grow up never knowing who my father was and denying me my entire identity, while KNOWINGLY parading me around like a trophy, washing your socks. To then send me completely unaware as bait to lead him to his murder – and he died because of it. I couldn't even give my father a proper burial, or claim him, for fear you would find out because if you did, HE would. Except for the fact HE ALREADY KNEW! Uther Pendragon doesn't deserve an ounce of my respect, and I'll be dead before the likes of you, or anyone else, compels me to give it, so if that is your position, I will leave."

"Fine!"

"Fine!" Merlin slammed the door in his face and stormed to the window so furious his hands, and just about everything else in the room, was shaking.

---

Merlin is a noble. The thought was as laughable as it was offensive, and yet the spies had been adamant the lanky manservant descended from royalty. There was even talk he had a claim to Cerniw's throne if the gossip in Camelot was to be believed. She hadn't asked why Mab's contact was more interested in Merlin's death than Arthur's, but apparently, they were holding out on her, and she should have. The gossip surrounding Cerniw's knight's arrival in Camelot and their apparent connection to the manservant had intrigued her so much she'd almost felt grateful the pest had survived this time. That Mab and her son saw Merlin as a threat baffled her, how weak the Saxon's must be if kind, sweet innocent Merlin that couldn't hurt a fly, caused them so much anxiety.

No, that wasn't true. He'd hurt her plenty, hadn't he? Merlin was capable of murder, after all, she thought bitterly, pushing the memory from her mind. She'd adored him once, trusted him above just about everyone else. She had thought he was on her side, but it was always Arthur that held his true loyalties. Everybody always chose Arthur; even her father wouldn't so much as acknowledge her, for Arthur's benefit. Her best friend and maid had fallen in love with him and picked him, over her. Then they had the gall to act surprised she wanted him dead.

Running her fingers absently around the rim of the basin the manservant's image appeared in the ripples of the water, the image becoming clearer as the water stilled.

Former manservant, it seemed. He'd grown into a man since she'd seen him last. His boyish awkwardness was gone, his shoulders had broadened, he'd put on lean muscle mass, and no longer looked like he could be carried away by a strong gust of wind. It suited him. He was handsome. He always had been, in a unique way. His high cheekbones and large ears had given him an almost elfin appearance, but he was so much more now.

She'd had a crush on the servant since shortly after he'd arrived in Camelot, though she would never have admitted it to anyone, nor had she even realized that was what it was at the time. Looking back, she'd always looked for him, intentionally tried to catch his eye. Gwen teased her about it a few times, but she paid it no mind. Every man in the kingdom had wanted her but him. He'd shown her kindness and friendship but nothing more. For a long time, she'd convinced herself it was for that reason that she looked for his approval, but she knew it wasn't true. He had an ability to look at her with such intensity she'd often felt naked, that he could see through her, and when she looked back, she'd find herself mesmerized by his eyes that despite his kindness sometimes teased of something darker. She had needed him, and he'd rejected her. She hated him for it.

Letting out an audible gasp Morgana watched curiously as Merlin, and her good for nothing brother, stared at each other hatefully. Oh, how she wished she could hear what was being said. Enraged, the former servant looked so dark and beautiful and scary; it sent a jolt through her settling in the pit of her stomach. The Knights, including that Gwaine character, looked proud, of all things, as Arthur stepped backward, stunned.

Snorting with laughter at the bizarre scene she was witnessing; Morgana wondered what on earth Arthur could have done that would have turned the infuriatingly loyal manservant against him. Oh, Merlin, she thought happily. I underestimated you, what a powerful weapon against Arthur you'd make. Smiling at the thought and not even bothering to push away the attraction the sight had created within her, she let the image fade as the former servant slammed the door in her brother's face.

"He's handsome" the old woman crooned next to her, ripping her from her thoughts.

"Don't sneak up on me," Morgana hissed, walking away from the basin and crossing the room to the window.

"You care for him."

"I hate him," she muttered, "maybe more than anyone."

"Ah hate is a funny thing my dear, dirty love, yes, but love just the same."

"I don't love him."

"Don't be silly; you hate them all because you love them, if you did not, you would not care."

"What is it you're playing at, old woman, you speak as though I should forgive them, and yet you plot against them do you not?"

"No, I will secure what was taken from my children, nothing more. I do not love them, nor am I angry, so I find it difficult to care about them either way. You let such emotions cloud you."

"You seek what is mine."

"You're a woman, and you're illegitimate. You have no claim. Even after Arthur's death, there are others, including your friend there, with a stronger claim to the throne."

"Merlin?"

"Yes, my dear he is a powerful man, but I think you've always sensed that have you not?"

"Merlin? Powerful?" Morgana scoffed. Clearly, you've never met him."

"No, but I have had the unfortunate experience of meeting his father and grandfather. Neither were men to be taken lightly. It would have been better had he not survived. No matter, we'll make do, I suppose, but I wouldn't discount him. Even without his birthright, he could prove to be a powerful opponent."

"Well I happen to know him, and he's merely an inconvenience, with an incredible streak of luck."

"Such denial. No matter, the only way the people will accept you as Queen is to marry Camelot's, King. That is what we agreed, did we not?"

"You make it seem as if you are doing me a favor and yet I'm the one helping you."

"We help each other child, and we both get what we want. My husband sat on that throne before Uther did, do not forget that."

"Only because he killed my grandfather."

"All's fair in the wars of men, Morgana. Have you come closer to locating it?"

"The Ring? No, I can sense it but just barely, the further they dig the stronger it gets."

"Good." The old woman nodded departing from the room carrying a basket of herbs, leaving the priestess alone with her thoughts.

Damn that old hag; she looked forward to the moment she killed her. She needed Catigern and his army of Saxons less than she needed Mab to tell her how to use the ring. Her son could pillage and plunder every other kingdom for all she cared, but Camelot was hers. And if Merlin was the heir to her great Uncle's kingdom, then she most certainly had a claim there, too. No, she'd find the ring for the wrinkled wretch, but she'd use it to her ends.

Nobody would dare speak to her the way this old woman dared; she would teach her not to underestimate her power or her resolve. She'd break every bone in her body before giving her the reward of death, and she'd force her precious son to watch to make sure he understood who was truly in charge.

Chapter 14

Arthur was shaken, almost to his core. In all the years he'd known Merlin he'd never seen anything like that. Logically he knew Merlin was right, but logic had never been their strong suit in a battle of will. He was aware the younger man had a temper, but he hadn't known Merlin was capable of such vitriolic scathing. Merlin had stood up to him on the first day they met, so he didn't know why he was so surprised. The manservant had never been shy with his opinion, or his temper if pushed far enough. How easy it was to forget the normally docile man had thrown punches at him on more than one occasion and had even gone so far as to charge the witchfinder in open court. Still, nobody had ever stood up to him with the intensity and ferocity that Merlin had just done, save, perhaps, his father, which really didn't count. The whole thing unnerved him as much as it made him angry.

Gwaine had taken Merlin's side, stomping away with disgust as he informed Cador Merlin would not be leaving without him. Arthur knew that was coming, though, didn't he? Gwaine's loyalties were divided. No, his loyalties had always been loaned to him through his loyalty to Merlin. If Merlin left, Gwaine left. Hells, Cador was his father's nephew, a Pendragon with a closer relation to Arthur and Camelot than Merlin and Cerniw, and yet he hadn't flinched at the hateful words; instead, he looked at the former servant with pride and puffed his chest out. The whole situation had taken a turn past bizarre and gone straight to insane.

My grandfather took him in as a child and raised him, my father fought next to him with his army to win this kingdom back so you could sit on that throne, and how does Uther thank him? He hunted him like an animal forcing me to grow up never knowing who my father was and denying me my entire identity, while KNOWINGLY parading me around like a trophy, washing your socks. To then send me completely unaware as bait to lead him to his murder…

All those things were true, but still, he believed there was more to the story. There had to be. For all his faults, Uther would not act so dishonorably, especially toward his family, without reason or significant provocation. Whether Merlin liked it or not he owed his father the benefit of the doubt.

Giving up on battering the now destroyed practice dummy with his sword, Arthur pushed past George, and shrugged out of his chain mail and gambeson, now soaking wet from the rain storm that had popped up out of nowhere. Dressing in dry clothes, as the manservant looked on, exasperated, Arthur ducked out of his room and began the familiar route toward the physician's chambers. All Merlin had asked for was to be left alone, why couldn't he have given him that? Surely Merlin wouldn't leave; he knew the threat was empty - at least he hoped it was. Prior the lanky peasant had no place to go, except back to a farming village where nothing awaited him but toiling fields and sleeping on the floor. He had some place to go now, though, didn't he?

We will lose him, and I don't know that we'll get him back.

Of course, they wouldn't lose him. Arthur rejected the notion that was even possible. Merlin might be mad, but he'd never leave them. The more the uncertainty gripped him, the angrier he got. He wasn't going to go beg the idiot to stay, especially not in front of another Pendragon.

"Gaius," he yelled slamming the door open, angrily. "You better go talk some sense into that ward of yours because if he thinks he's going to talk to me like that in my kingdom, he's got another thing coming. He's lucky I don't arrest him."

"Why would you arrest my son?" The woman's soft, yet firm voice startled him, as he spun to face Merlin's mother, sitting quietly in the corner.

"Hunith? I uh… what are you doing here?" Arthur stammered, scanning the room for a towel as he noted the small woman's hair was still damp from the storm raging outside.

"My son sent for me," she replied quietly, taking the offered cloth with a smile, though also a little apprehensively, which Arthur didn't like one bit.

"Oh, yeah, I know that, but we didn't expect you until tomorrow, at least."

"We rode through the night. Sir's Manafort and Galahad felt it important to get here quickly."

"I see. Does Merlin know you're here?"

"I've only just arrived."

"Well, he's got his own chambers now."

"So I've heard." Hunith held her head up and smiled gently at him. "I was hoping to speak to Gaius before I went to him. What's this about you arresting my son?"

Awkwardly, Arthur rubbed the back of his neck, unsure how to proceed, or how he got into this situation in the first place.

"I wouldn't. He's just going through some things right now."

"Yes, it's a trying time for everyone."

"You're a Queen?"

"My husband is dead; I am a Queen Mother."

"If our fathers hated each other so much, why would you have allowed me in your home, and treated me with kindness?"

"Because you are your mother's son. I would never turn her child away."

"You knew my mother?"

Of course, she knew his mother, he'd surmised that early, but hadn't really given it any thought, until now, as he watched her nod, sadly.

"What happened between them? They were raised like brothers, I don't understand what could have caused all of this..."

Arthur knew this conversation was improper and he was risking another round of Merlin's temper by questioning her without him present, but he needed to know the answers and found the temptation to ask too powerful to resist.

At that, Hunith sighed, walking towards the window and looked out upon storm raging over the city.

"My greatest fear is that both of you will get so lost in the past you won't be able to see your way to the future. What's done is done."

"I have a right to know."

"Perhaps, but the truth is painful for everyone involved. It's already hurting both of you boys, and it will only get worse. Is it wrong to want to protect you from that when nothing can be done to change it, and nothing positive can come from rehashing it? Show me the wisdom in laying out every demon for two innocent children to inspect, and I give you my word I'll sit both of you down and tell you every gruesome detail."

"We're not children."

"No matter your ages, you will always be their children."

"How can I rule if I don't even know the truth about what my borders are?"

"Do you know what they are now?"

"Yes."

"Then I'm going to give you the same advice I intend to give my son. As a King, you have a duty to yourself, your kingdom and your people to disregard what you think you know, and everything that has happened thus, because you can no longer trust that all is as it appears to be. Look at everything with fresh eyes and seek your own truth. What matters is your relationship with my son and the relationship between your kingdoms. Not your father's relationship and the relationship between their kingdoms. They are dead, and both kingdoms and beyond have suffered greatly from the fallout of their squabble. It falls to you boys now."

Arthur stared at the woman completely deflated, unable to speak, or counter her point, he just nodded and led her from the room mumbling to a servant to see her to chambers and make sure she was attended to. He understood and saw the wisdom in every word she said, but it was far easier said than done.

---

Arthur walked down the hall quietly, still upset about the standoff with Merlin earlier, but feeling a lot calmer since Hunith had arrived. He'd seen to it she had been given appropriate chambers and assigned a maid to her, whom between her and Guinevere, had transformed the peasant woman into a regal monarch who looked every bit her station. Walking with her now toward Merlin's room he'd hoped the man would see it as an olive branch because he sure wouldn't apologize and he didn't expect Merlin intended to either.

Inwardly relieved at the sight of Cador posted outside the door, Arthur wasn't nearly as bothered by the knight stiffening at his approach as he might have been otherwise, considering his presence meant Merlin had not left.

"The Lady Hunith Ambrosius to see her son," he said evenly as his cousin's eyes widened in recognition and a smile took over his face. Giving her a small bow Cador knocked, and a very grumpy Merlin opened the door.

"If it's Arthur tell him… Mother?" The secret warlock exclaimed, a smile consuming his face as he examined her from head to toe.

"You look beautiful," he beamed.

"And you so handsome," she laughed as they embraced and he widened the door to let her pass into the room, without acknowledging him.

"Come on Arthur," she commanded, grabbing his arm as she entered the room and holding her finger up as Merlin stiffened next to her, cutting off any protest.

"Not a word."

"Mother."

"Don't Mother me, I will have none of this nonsense, everybody out. You," Hunith turned and pointed to Cador, "short of an attack on the kingdom, or other such emergencies, nobody enters this room until I say, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, My Lady," Cador nodded, shutting the door once Lucan made his way past him into the hallway. Arthur opened his mouth and quickly closed it as he and Merlin made eye contact and they both realized they were in trouble.

Moving between them, Hunith pointed to both of them, an exasperated expression on her face. "Make up," she admonished, before turning toward the door to leave.

"He wants me to show Uther respect, after what he did," Merlin argued, stopping the tiny noblewoman in her tracks.

"Uther is his father. You don't have to respect him, but you can respect Arthur enough to hold your tongue to his face."

"He needs to know what a monster that man was."

"Merlin Wyllt Ambrosius!" Hunith spun on him angrily, shocking the warlock into silence. Arthur sucked in his lips and looked to the floor, now relishing this moment he knew he'd never let the younger man forget.

"What Uther did was cruel and indefensible, but you would be remiss if you think your father did not have his part to play or was entirely innocent."

"He knew, he knew who I was, he kept me as a servant like a trophy laughing at me."

"Yes, and I'm sure he got enjoyment watching Arthur ordering you around, bullying and berating you, as your father did him, growing up. They loved each other fiercely but were in a constant battle since the day Uther arrived in Cerniw. You know nothing of their relationship."

"So, I have to pay the price for their childhood spats? You could have told me."

"I never once said it was right, and I hated it at the time. More than once your father nearly marched here himself, to collect you, until he saw the benefits of it, and decided to let it play out. In the end, he was right. You were becoming arrogant, cocky and careless. Becoming his servant was a blessing in disguise, you knew nothing of duty, honor, and the way of the court, not like Arthur taught you. God's be if it's not Bruta's blood that makes you both so enormously stubborn, and blind. You needed each other all those years ago, and you need each other now."

"And you, Arthur Pendragon." Hunith spun to face him, a fierceness he'd never thought her capable dancing in the normally docile woman's eyes. "You knew nothing of compassion and humility, nor the value of others different from yourself. My son is a great many things, but he is not weak. He has never been, and he's certainly not incompetent nor an idiot. Everything you have faced and everything you have learned you have done so with my son by your side, learning and facing it with you. The sooner you both recognize that you have always prevailed because you are stronger together, the better off every single person in these lands and beyond, will be. Now MAKE UP!"

At that, Hunith turned on her heels and slammed the door behind her leaving behind the two monarchs staring at the door in shock.

"I think we've been told off." Arthur stammered, pursing his lips still staring at the door as Merlin began to laugh behind him.

"You think?" He fell back onto the bed and started laughing harder putting his hand over his face. "Welcome to my childhood; I think she's still the only person I've ever actually feared."

"I can see why, Merlin Wyllt Ambrosius," Arthur repeated gleefully, laughing as Merlin groaned pulling the pillow over his head.

"I'm never going to hear the end of that, am I?"

"Oh no, that and the look on your face when she said it ranks up there with getting married when it comes to the greatest moments in my life."

"Wonderful," the warlock groaned.

"I didn't even know you had a middle name."

"Me either, that's the first time I heard it. Full of surprises, isn't she?"

Arthur started laughing again at the mortification etched into the warlock's face.

"I should have left you alone when you asked me to. It was hard for me to hear, so I know it must have been excruciating for you. You must know I would never condone what my father did or intended to do."

"I do know that. You're not him, Arthur. Never have been. I would have left Camelot a long time ago if I'd thought otherwise. My mother is right, I shouldn't have insulted him in front of you, and I shouldn't have said I was glad he was dead. He was your father, and you loved him. I have always respected that, but I won't lie to your face and say I respect him as a man or a ruler. Any deference I showed him while he was alive was out of respect for you, not him."

"Fair enough," Arthur nodded. He could hardly hold it against his friend, what they heard that morning was horrific and bothered him immensely. "We alright?"

"Yeah, we're alright."

"Are you really planning to go to Cerniw?" Arthur asked tentatively, relieved to no longer be at odds with his friend, but still bothered by the ease in which he had announced his willingness to leave.

"Eventually, I'll have to." Merlin nodded. "I can't get the answers I need here. Even if I hate it, I must know every detail no matter how ugly, no matter how hurtful and I can't trust anyone here to give that to me."

"You think you'll find it there?"

"I have no idea, but I don't know where else to look. And I'll admit, I'm curious. If you could go to where your Mother grew up, her childhood home and learn more about her and your heritage would you give up the opportunity?"

"No, I wouldn't, which is why when you do go, I'm going with you."

"You want to go to Cerniw?" Merlin stared at him wide eyed.

"My mother's from there; I have two cousins' that hate me, born to an aunt and uncle I didn't even know I had or thought had died long before I was born. You're not the only one who needs answers."

"Arthur, Cerniw is a kingdom where magic is legal, and the Old Religion is practiced openly."

"Yes, Merlin, I've figured that out. My cousin who happens to be your regent practices it. As much as my father decided to pretend they weren't there, I know they are. If you do take the crown it'll be a tricky situation for you to waltz in there and make magic illegal on your own, you'll need my support and backing."

"You think I'm going to walk in there and make magic illegal?"

"Of course, why wouldn't you? You know how dangerous it is."

"Ah" Merlin sighed rubbing his hands over his face. "If you want to go to Cerniw and find out answers, that's fine, but there's little point if you go there thinking you already know them."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"If your mind is made up going in, the only answers you'll hear are the ones that suit you."

"I see."

"No, you don't." Merlin shook his head and regarded his longtime friend thoughtfully.

"I know it's a sore subject, and in your kingdom, it's your right to dismiss or ignore the questions raised by your father's actions and omissions, but Cerniw was my father's kingdom. It's my duty to find out the truth then find a way to coexist peacefully with Camelot based on it. I'm not going to implement laws they've given up so much to peacefully reject while your father has rewritten history, destroyed texts, omitted facts, called it treason and executed anyone who dared question him or disagreed. I must know what would compel a man to do all of that and more so that his son would never know Cerniw still existed. I can't even discuss or debate the issue until I have all the information. Surely you understand that."

Arthur knitted his brow and drummed his fingers on the table thoughtfully. "No, you're right we need the answers, me just as much as you. But it doesn't mean I'm comfortable magic is legal there or that I ever will be no matter what the answers are."

"I understand that, but if I do take that crown, I have to take it all the way. I have a duty to my father and the people no different than you have a duty to yours. We can't even have the discussion until both of us have the facts. All of them, no matter how bad or ugly they are."

Arthur nodded and then shook his head wildly. "What the hell just happened?"

"What?" Merlin questioned, surprised at the sudden change of demeanor.

"This… What the hell was that?"

"What?"

"We just talked like kings, Merlin." Arthur shuddered visibly and stood as the former servant laughed.

"I suppose we did. Ew, yeah, that's awkward."

"You'll be taking the crown then?"

"I don't know."

"Could have fooled me."

"Could have been a fluke."

"Maybe… But it wasn't." Arthur sighed. "We'll figure it out, and when we find a safe way to get you there, we'll go together."

"You still want to go?"

"And miss how uncomfortable you're going to be standing in front of everyone getting a pretty crown if I don't? Never."

"Thanks," the former servant wheezed holding his hand to his chest sarcastically. "Knowing you're enjoying my discomfort will keep me calm."

"Exactly," Arthur agreed with a snort.

"Arthur," Merlin called out as he turned toward the door.

"Thank you, for seeing to my mother."

With a nod, Arthur left the room to find Gwaine leaning against the wall chatting with Cador.

"I tried to tell you." Gwaine cocked his head to the side, a sly grin on his scruffy face. "He's got it in him to make an armed man question whether they want to find out if he's bluffing. I'm very proud."

"Intriguing as it was, and it is something I never hope to witness again," Arthur chuckled, "we all know he was bluffing."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Cador snorted, shaking his head as the king rolled his eyes.

"You've never seen him swing a sword; you'll wonder how he's related to us. Trust me; it's painful to watch," Arthur laughed while Cador stiffened.

"You know; I grew up ashamed of my name. The shame and dishonor brought upon my house, and my crest nearly killed my father, and it destroyed my mother. For years, I've tried to hold onto hope you would return honor to our name, and that I may one day speak it with pride, with nothing more to go on than Merlin believes in you. He may not have known us, but we know him. Do not disparage him in front of me. I know what he's capable of and believe me he doesn't need to swing a blade. If he wants one swung that's what he's got me for."

With that, Cador turned and started down the hall toward Hunith's chambers, calling out behind his back as he rounded the corner.

"He wasn't bluffing."

---

"Why didn't you tell me?" Merlin sat on the edge of the large bed as his mother made herself comfortable in the armchair, across the room.

Cador had returned with her a few minutes after Arthur had left, leaving the two to finally have a conversation that Merlin really wasn't ready for.

"It wasn't safe. I know you don't like that answer," Hunith raised her hand, to stop the protest about to leave his lips. "But that is the reality."

"More dangerous than knowing about my magic? If I could keep that a secret..."

"You struggled to keep that a secret, and it took a lot of creativity and help, to keep you hidden. Other kingdoms and more than a few warlords saw a babe with powerful magic and a throne as a malleable weapon they could raise for their benefit, or a potential threat they couldn't counter. It was never just Uther that we needed to worry about. Keeping you hidden and ignorant was the only way to protect you, while still giving you some semblance of a childhood."

"My father was right there the whole time. I had a right to know him."

"Oh, Merlin." Hunith sighed, crossing the room and wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

"The hardest thing your father ever did, in all his life, was to keep his distance from you. It broke him, and he became bitter and angry at the world, thus. But he wouldn't have changed it. He was too recognizable, too well known, and terrified people would make the connection you were his before you were old enough to protect yourself. You had enough on your plate with just the magic, and then with keeping yourself hidden from Arthur. He worried himself sick over your proximity to Uther and made it even more dangerous for him to make himself known to you. Then he died and your burden increased tenfold. I did what I thought was right, to honor your father's wishes, and protect you."

The ache in his chest throbbed uncontrollably as Merlin struggled to understand the reasons he'd been kept from knowing the man whose absence had always been felt, and mourned, even from his earliest memories. He knew his father had given his life to save him, but it still hurt to hear, especially when his parents had never considered how growing up without him, had hurt him. It was worth the risk to know him, and there was nothing he could ever say or do now, to change it. It was too late.

"Gaius tells me you know of the door, and that you've crossed it." Hunith navigated away from the painful subject, hastily wiping the tears from her eyes, forcing him from his thoughts.

"I did," Merlin cracked a smile at the grin that now covered his mother's face, as he recounted the events of the night before.

"You have to tell Arthur about the door."

"Oh no, you don't know him like I do, trust me he'll freak out."

"Maybe, but your magic didn't create it, so Arthur can hardly get angry at you for its existence. You don't have to tell him where the door is, just inform him it exists. He has a right to know."

"I had to speak in dragon tongue to open it, that's close enough to magic. Even if I can somehow convince him otherwise, he'll still freak out."

"He doesn't need to know that, though your dragon lord heritage is no longer a secret and one you can remind him, he shares. Convince him how convenient it is. He won't say it, but he's scared you're going to leave and not come back."

"Right."

"He is. Give him some credit Merlin; this has all been very hard on him, too."

"I guess."

"If you don't tell him and he finds out it will be worse. He's already on a countdown to finding out about the magic, don't let him think you're being dishonest and going back and forth playing double duty in secret. He might take it the wrong way."

"Gaius won't approve," Merlin argued, knowing she was right, but still nervous about the idea of informing Arthur, especially since he'd already crossed and the dragons had made an appearance. The topic hadn't come up, but Merlin hadn't forgotten Kilgharrah was currently being hunted by Camelot's forces. It wouldn't take long for Arthur to remember it either.

"Gaius means well, he does, but he doesn't understand the weight on both of your shoulders and what can come from a misunderstanding of such magnitude between you. More than anyone, he should understand it, but he doesn't. He still sees you both as children, and you're not. You must tell him, Merlin. Now that you both know who, and what you are, your relationship is going to have to adjust. We've already seen growing pains, and they're certainly not the last. Be honest with him, he deserves that, and it'll help later."

"I'm glad you're here."

"I wouldn't miss this for anything."

---

Arthur stared at the papers in front him, struggling to concentrate on their contents, as his thoughts wandered to the eventful day he'd already had, and was sure to continue as it progressed.

Guinevere had disappeared with a grin shortly after Hunith had left her son's chambers for the second time that day, much to his frustration. He had hardly seen his wife and marveled at how busy she had kept herself seeing to the duties Arthur should have been overseeing so that he could focus on the issue with Merlin. God's, he loved that woman and didn't know what in the world he would do without her. Looking at her handwritten notes on the forms in front of him, he realized cheerfully, there wasn't much for him to do, other than to catch himself up on the mundane events of the kingdom that had occurred during his distraction.

George was a bore, and it hadn't taken long for the king to tire of his incessant boot licking. He'd caught himself nearly chucking a goblet at the man's head but felt doing so, at least this soon, was traitorous to Merlin. Snorting at the thought, he watched as the servant silently went about his duties, he couldn't help but miss… or not, Arthur sighed as the chamber door swung open nearly hitting George, causing him to drop the chainmail he'd been putting away.

"I almost missed that. Almost," Arthur smirked, as the former servant strode in and promptly bent to pick up the armor now scattered on the floor.

"Sorry," Merlin replied sheepishly, shuffling backward as George snatched the helmet from his hands and huffed his annoyance.

"That's not your job anymore, Merlin."

"I know, though technically you didn't sack me."

"You're fired."

"More's the pity," the former servant smirked, leaning against the bedpost. "We should talk about something I've learned."

"What's that?"

"Well…." The warlock paused and sucked on his teeth trying to find the words before figuring it would be better to just go for it.

"Sire," the door to the chambers opened, interrupting the thought as Percival stuck his head inside. "They're waiting for you."

"It's about time," Arthur nodded. "We'll finish this later, Merlin, come on, you being here saves me a trip." The king stood to follow the knight out the door, as the warlock rolled his eyes and followed. Just like old times. Except for George following behind them all like a lost puppy, largely ignored by his new master.

He'd expected an uproar when he'd walked into the room with the subject of the vitriol they'd overheard earlier, dressed in the finest of fabrics denoting his rightful station, but none spoke, even when Arthur motioned Merlin to take the seat to his right. He'd watched their reactions carefully as they'd walked into the room, noting the murmurs turn to silence as he moved into earshot. It nauseated him these men would say such things when they did not know he was listening, but here in the open, the cowards were silent. Merlin, on the other hand, glared at him openly, annoyed by the ambush.

Thirty-seven men, mostly relics from his father's court, openly stared at the former servant during the meeting that centered on taxes, crops and other such nonsense that he could care less about. Only Leon, Gaius, and Geoffrey had acknowledged his presence. It was as if they were all waiting for someone else to say something, but nobody wanted to be the one to do it. With the meeting winding to a close he'd pondered mentioning it himself when an older stocky man he knew to be Lord Astor, stood, cleared his throat, and focused his eyes directly on Merlin.

"Sire, if I may," the older man cleared his throat again.

"It does not escape our attention Merlin has taken a seat among us. I won't regale the court with rumor and innuendo, though I believe you'll find the court has been divided on these matters for years. Making known your intentions towards relations with Cerniw might be wise to quell unrest, and I must question whether having him present for our internal matters, is wise?"

Taking a deep breath, Arthur steeled himself, making eye contact with the former servant still visibly agitated at being put in this situation, but watching him curiously to see his response.

"I find it intriguing many in this court knew of his identity for years, yet held no objection to his presence while I was regent and after my father's death. I'm compelled to believe you felt it was acceptable my great-uncle's grandson, and heir to his throne, was present provided he held a jug of wine and stood ready to fill my cup, but I don't. In fact, I find myself as disgusted by it as I am by your lack of objection. You will not insult me, nor him, further, by objecting to his presence, now.

And while we're on this subject, let me make this clear because I will not repeat it. I already know Balinor Ambrosius was a Dragon Lord. I also know he was a good man who, despite his issues with my father, saved my life, and died honorably."

"Sire, your father…"

"Is dead, and went to great lengths to rewrite history and destroy anyone or anything that contradicted his version of events. His opinion and views on these matters are invalidated. The silence of this council since I've become King now call your views, beliefs, and trustworthiness on the subject, into question. I will no longer rule this kingdom according to fiction. In these matters, I will seek answers and council from those I trust, which at this moment, does not include most of you. If I want your input, I will ask for it, otherwise, I will hear no more."

"Sire, that boy brings untold…"

"That boy, is my cousin, my friend, my most trusted advisor, and the monarch of a kingdom that is important to my heritage and Camelot's history. You will show him, his family, his knights, and his staff the proper respect due to his station. When you address him, you will do so as Sire, or My Lord. Do not test me on this, you will regret it."

"Surely you can't expect…"

"Enough! I don't expect it, I demand it. I am not my father, but I am King. This is my kingdom now, and you will adjust accordingly and behave honorably or get out of my court. This meeting is concluded; you are all dismissed."

Arthur stood stoically watching each member of the court file out the room, anger still throbbing in his veins. He knew there would be an uproar amongst them as soon as he was out of earshot, but he didn't care. Not this time. He'd never been one for showing emotion and certainly not letting the former servant know he gave a damn, but the truth had always come when he was the angriest. The hatred leveled at the man who had been by his side through everything had chilled his insides, and the instinct to protect him from the privy council kicked in.

The idea Merlin was royalty was still absurd to him. Until now he'd known it, he'd acknowledged it, but he'd brushed it off as something that was going to go away quickly, and they could go back to some semblance of normalcy. That notion had been shattered this afternoon when Merlin had spoken to him with all the strength and wisdom of a King. The idiot had always been had his moments, and they'd always come when they were needed most, but it wasn't until then that Arthur realized Merlin might not make a bad sovereign. He certainly had the knowledge and experience of advising one, even if Arthur struggled to admit it.

Merlin couldn't fight, he couldn't lead an army, those things still made him nervous, but he had an army at his disposal who seemed loyal to him so that might not even be an issue. He had to face it, Merlin was a royal, and even without being on the same page they still managed to find a consensus, because they had to. Neither would be enemies with the other which meant they had to do it right. Only Merlin could have hoped to convey that message and have him get it. He always knew how to say things in a way that would resonate.

But still, he would lose him. Merlin would eventually have to leave, and the thought made Arthur's chest hurt. It was the one aspect of the entire situation that he could not take or tolerate. He'd given him an official role in his court without even asking him if he'd wanted it. But at least it would keep him here, keep some responsibility here.

Maybe he would just fix the situations between Camelot and Cerniw, something they'd both need to spend a lot of time together, in both kingdoms to achieve, and then Merlin would come back and stand beside him, like always.

"You didn't have to do that," the young monarch's voice moved beside him in the now empty room.

"Oh, I did, Merlin."

"I think that's the first time you've ever admitted we were friends."

Arthur snorted glancing to the side and catching the raised eyebrows and the dopey grin on Merlin's face.

"Don't look so pleased," he smirked, "we both know you're an idiot."

"Of course," the warlock nodded.

"Don't tell your mother I said that."

At that, Merlin laughed, as the king winced at the thought of being told off for a fourth time that day.

"You realize you just forced everyone to call me horrible titles and bow at me, right?"

"That was the point," Arthur rolled eyes and laughed. "You didn't think I wasn't getting anything out of it, did you? All that uncomfortable fidgeting you've been doing has been the highlight of my day."

"Glad I can still be of some use," Merlin snorted.

"As if you ever were."

"So uhh adviser huh…"

"Had to tell them something, besides I can't have you staying here doing nothing, living off the King's purse, now can I?" Arthur smiled and clipped the warlock around the ear.

"I think you just like having me follow you around."

"You probably shouldn't think then; it's never been your talent," the king laughed as the giant wooden door opened revealing Leon, Cador, and Gwaine, entering behind it.

"Sires, you're needed in the physician's chambers, they've just brought in a charred body, and there was another scroll attached to the corpse."

Notes:

Quick thanks for all the kudo's and reviews, and for sticking with me after such a long absence. Major thanks to nljfs and wryter501 for their beta help. Next chapter should be in a couple of weeks. The next few months are kind of crazy for me, and I'm planning on moving across country this summer, so writing/editing time will be a little sporadic, but I'm committed to updating with some frequency, though I can't promise much more than it won't be months before my next update.
Still don't own Merlin. Do own my plot and OC's though. ;)

Chapter 15

"You knew. You knew from the moment Merlin walked into Camelot, didn't you?"

Leon shook his head, knowing his father wouldn't answer the question, and that he didn't need to. Of course, he knew. Merlin had barely been in Camelot a week before Manafort had taken his son aside and told him to look after the boy. The request had annoyed him, at the time, unable to understand his father's interest in a peasant with a mouth too big for his stature. That Merlin had already earned the ire of the Prince, was more reason to be wary. Back then Arthur was a bully, and more apt to make his life miserable if he'd shown any interest in the manservant. Still, Leon had promised his father he would keep an eye on him, if only because he was intrigued by Merlin's impertinence and the urgency in his father's request. That interest had eventually diminished as Merlin settled into his role with Arthur, and the court. "That's why you asked me to look after him."

"I asked you for more than that."

"Yes," Leon turned to face his father, frustrated as the older man dropped into an overstuffed chair looking out over the courtyard. "You asked me to commit treason."

"I wouldn't say that."

"He's a Dragonlord, Father. Did you know that, too? Did you spare any thought for my life when you asked me to smuggle him out of Camelot, should the need arrive? If Uther knew his nature, he would have been merciless in his pursuit, even without his lineage."

"Of course, I gave thought to your life; you are my son and heir. I knew you wouldn't come to harm."

"How could you have possibly known that?" Leon asked incredulously.

At that, the elder Knight raked his hand through his hair and sighed. Unsure if he should answer, he turned his attention to the townspeople moving about in the square below them. He almost envied them, living their lives blissfully unaware of the tension roiling through the citadel towering next to them. For all the pomp of the upper class, ignorance was a luxury he and his fellow noblemen could never truly be granted without consequence.

Arthur's sharp dismissal of the council had, of course, made a bad situation, worse. He understood why Arthur had done it, but he also knew the young King had not thought it through. He would need the counsel of those who knew more about these things than him, in the days and weeks ahead. Yet he'd acted on instinct and emotion in the heat of the moment, sparing no thought to the potential repercussions. Of all the traits he could have picked up from his father that one was the most dangerous, both to him and to the kingdom.

The entire castle now felt like a tinderbox waiting to ignite as outraged Lords divided into factions and servants gossiped like barmaids. Meanwhile, the burnt corpse of a Camelot scout had been returned to the kingdom with a scroll attached to what remained of his jacket. The scrolls contents had, understandably, sent Arthur into a blind rage.

Bayard had plenty of reasons to be furious; he'd nearly lost his kingdom due to the uprising in response to Uther's bloodthirsty search. It was not just the Mercian lower class that had their infants ripped from them as Uther incited hysteria in throne rooms across the lands over the threat of a warlock with a kingdom and the power to command dragons. It had taken nearly 15 years for Bayard even to consider holding a conversation with Camelot's King, let alone treaty with him. To find out, now, it had all been for naught. There was no way that Bayard would just let it go; his people would not allow it.

"I asked you a question," Leon demanded, drawing Manafort's attention back to the confrontation that had been simmering for days. He'd managed to avoid being alone with his son during their trip to Geneloie, knowing he would want answers he wasn't prepared to answer at the time. Not that it mattered much now. If Bayard had started mobilizing a response, it was a sure bet the news had spread beyond Merica, and other kingdoms were doing the same.

Manafort, sighed, meeting his son's eyes, resigned to the fact the situation had spiraled much faster than he'd anticipated. He could no longer hold his tongue.

"Between your sword and Merlin, I had faith you could handle a few dogs if it came to that. I also knew it would not come to that, and Kilgharrah gave me his word you would not be harmed."

"Kilgharrah? Who the hell is that?" Leon asked incredulously.

"Dragons have names, Leon; they're intelligent creatures. I think Uther almost convinced himself they were the mindless beasts he tried to paint them as, rather than the sentient and sapient creatures they truly are - until he was forced back into reality."

"The dragon." Leon deadpanned, hoping his father had lost his mind, but knowing he hadn't. Dread gripped his insides as he recalled the dragon's attack and his father's calm in the face of it. He'd honestly thought he was going to die the day they rode out to meet the beast, and to this day he was unsure as to how he'd survived. He'd woken up in the trees alone, with nothing but the corpses of his fellow knights in front of him.

The kingdom had been shocked when he had returned to Camelot without so much as a scratch and no recollection of events - everyone, except his father. Uther had reacted oddly, he remembered that much, and within a few days, Manafort was departing Camelot claiming retirement, leaving him to fill the seat on the council.

"What did you do?"

"What was necessary to protect the Prince."

"Well, I'd say you failed, Arthur was nearly killed by that thing…"

"Yes, that was regrettable. Thankfully, he was not."

Leon's breath caught in his throat as his father's position became clear to him. "Arthur's not the Prince you were protecting, was he?"

"I love Arthur; he's like a second son to me. I would never wish harm to befall him, but you would do well to remember where you come from, Leon. Your heritage, your ancestors, and most importantly your house is a distinguished and noble house of the kingdom of Cerniw. I may have absorbed your mother's estate into my holdings, but my title - your birthright - is from there, not here."

"Please tell me you didn't release that dragon," Leon pleaded, suddenly terrified his father had done the unthinkable.

"No, of course not," Manafort chuckled at the absurdity of the suggestion. "If it were that easy to release him, he'd have been freed a long time ago."

"Then what? I don't understand..."

"No, you don't," Manafort scrapped his palm across his face and regarded his son thoughtfully.

"When that enchantment went up, hundreds of people, from every social class, were left stranded, on both sides of the border. It was several months before we knew with certainty Cerniw's Knights could walk through the enchanted rock the same way animals and carts could. I could have returned, but you and your mother would have been trapped in Camelot, and under a dark cloud of suspicion by Uther. Geneloie would have been stripped from your mother's family, and you'd have been without home or title, seeking refuge gods knows where. Returning to Cerniw was not an option for me. As a result, I spent months in a cell, and then under house arrest as Uther used myself, and Gaius, as leverage against his cousin.

"It was Bal that strong-armed his allies and Uther into an arrangement that allowed me to stay and retain my title. That same arrangement allowed you to become a knight of the realm. Keeping Kilgharrah informed of any plans to assassinate Bal's son wasn't just my duty, it was the right thing to do. If people died as a result, then so be it."

"So be it?" Leon's voice cracked with emotion. "I have no doubt that he was a good man, I only need to look at his son to see a reflection of that, but women and children were slaughtered, and all you can say is, so be it?"

"Thousands of people have died, Leon. By dragon or by the sword, the people are always the unfortunate casualties of any war. It was Uther's responsibility not to put them in that situation."

"Do you even hear yourself! I've never known you to be so dismissive of life."

"Dismissive? Do you know many innocents would have died when Cerniw declared war and attacked over Merlin's death? You cannot conceive the carnage such a war would have brought to these lands. The death toll wouldn't have just been higher, it would have been unthinkable. I hope, nay I pray, for peace and that the two kingdoms will resolve this and coexist as they did in the days of my father, and the many centuries before that. I have to believe Merlin and Arthur can bring that; it's our only hope."

"And if they don't?"

"Then I would suggest you start sorting out your loyalties now, and deciding where you stand. Arthur is not his father, but he is young, untested, and unpredictable, much like his father was. If Arthur makes any attempt to finish what his father started, he will leave me no choice but to fight on the field opposite him, as a knight of Cerniw."

---

A gentle sea breeze rushed through her hair, sending the ebony locks resting on her shoulders waving like a banner flag in the air. Strong yet small waves crashed near her feet at the edge of the rock washing the debris of the sea onto the smooth stone. It was peaceful here, the only part of this situation she enjoyed. Maybe she'd return, take the mount for herself. She was a High Priestess after all, and the Old Religion sang to her here.

Another ship bobbed in the waters beneath the fiery orange of the morning sun working over the horizon. They came, they left, each crew leering at her as if she couldn't snap their necks with the utterance of a few simple words. Looking around the small isle to the masonry, left in ruins long ago, she found the mutts currently resting in the territory they'd taken for themselves when they'd come off the boats. Each ship brought two more packs, and each arrival meant a day of tension between the beasts. She eyed them warily. They didn't seem to care for her any more than she cared for them but it was little matter, they left her alone, and she them, so they co-existed. They had their purpose, though she'd never cared for regular wolves, she liked these magical dire wolves even less. She wasn't in the mood to challenge them for dominance, not yet at least. At the moment, she'd have been happy to kill the damn things for their howling at all hours of the night.

The slave boats had stopped arriving a week ago, the tunnels continued to be cleared, and they were getting close to where it was said the bridge lay. She didn't particularly care about the bridge or their siege. Ultimately all of it would be hers anyway even if the old woman was too stupid to realize it. She could feel the power beneath her, it lay in the seas somewhere beneath them, but she couldn't pinpoint where. Not yet. She'd been practicing the exercises the old bat given her, teachings of the Old Religion, Morgause had never had the opportunity to explain before Merlin had somehow managed to leave her in an unconscious heap on Camelot's throne room floor.

Shaking off the unpleasant feeling Merlin's name brought her she turned her attention to the small black bird approaching her, parchment attached to its leg with string, and smiled. Mab was not yet awake, and she had lost her patience with the old woman, allowing her to believe she was in charge. No, it was time she asserted herself, and she'd start by finding out what was in the constant stream of messages arriving with the birds.

Camelot does not seem to be mobilizing, nor behaving as if they're preparing for anything. Arthur has made no move to leave the kingdom and made no mention of the warlock. I shall inform you immediately if that changes.

Of Note: Arthur publicly confirmed Merlin is the legitimate son and heir of King Balinor, just as you insisted. He was given an official position at court and has every intention of taking his crown. Things are chaotic.

Awaiting instructions.

Morgana crumpled the parchment into a ball angrily and stared out into the sea. "Unbelievable," she muttered. The rumors were accurate, then. Merlin truly was royalty and heir to Cerniw's throne. It was almost as unthinkable as the idea he intended to be King, let alone the king of a kingdom where magic is legal. Of course, he means to take his crown, she thought bitterly. Arthur would never allow him to pass up an opportunity to spread his influence. Merlin might be King in title, but Arthur would be running things, and the entire kingdom would be subjected to anti-magic laws while its sorcerers slaughtered. Giving the idiot an official position was just a ploy, Arthur would be expecting equal ranking in Cerniw's court. Flashing her eyes amber, the parchment caught fire and floated out to sea carried by the breeze.

Why couldn't Emrys see that? He had to know this would only spread the purge into the protected lands where magic was practiced openly and revered. Surely, he would see sense after he realized how many of his own would be uprooted or slaughtered. If he would just help her get rid of them both, instead of protecting them, the enchanted mountains would cease. Camelot would welcome magic with a powerful kingdom respecting magic on their border. They would finally be free and too powerful for any other nation to even think about challenging them.

No, Merlin would never make it to Cerniw to take his crown, she refused to allow it. Mab had tried to trick him to the border to ambush him, and now she understood why he was such a threat to her. She wanted Cerniw for herself and would never have it as long as Merlin was alive to stake his claim. Morgana would never allow that either. If Merlin was her half second-cousin, then so be it. She had a claim to the throne, too, once he was dead. Morgana didn't care about the old bat and her plans, Mab's only concern was the joining of their armies, and extending her fortunes. Those were never her problems or concerns; she would have what was rightfully hers. An idea quickly took form as she returned her attention to the wolves, and the Priestess smiled for the first time in days.

Notes:

Still don't own Merlin, though I wish I did. Hope everyone has a happy July Fourth, weekend. I think I'll be settling into a once a month update schedule from here on out. I've got much of the next chapter already written, but need time to fix a few things and edit it. Thanks so much for all of the reviews and kudos. They mean a lot ot me. Many thanks to nljfs for betaing this chapter!

Chapter 16

When contemplating the idea of a holiday, a foul-smelling tavern was not what Uwain had in mind. Then again it wasn't really a holiday, no matter how it had been described to him when being talked into the mission. "What's a holiday," he muttered under his breath as he looked across the table to see Bruenor with a tavern wench in his lap and Cal engrossed in a dice game.

Still nursing the first tankard set before him, he brushed off a wench and bar maid who seemed to be competing for his attention when a buxom blonde sat herself in his lap and began nipping at his ear… much to Bruenor's amusement who laughed at his discomfort and tossed a gold coin on the table.

"Someone take that boy upstairs and make a man out of him."

"No thanks," the young man protested, rolling his eyes as Cal chipped in a coin of his own and added to the teasing. Swatting the women off he stared daggers at the knights as the women pulled at his arms.

"They smell your virtue. Time to get rid of that, my friend," Bruenor swayed lifting his tankard in the air in a mock toast.

"It's long gone already," the embarrassed man retorted as he stood, dumping the blonde into his companion's lap and headed towards the door.

"Suit yourself," Bruenor drawled, as Uwain stepped outside into the cool night air, rubbing the nape of his neck nervously, as if the late spring chill were to blame for his unease.

He could feel something tickling the back of his subconscious as he turned his gaze toward the foreboding mountain tops in the distance. It'd been a few years since he felt a stirring, and it was much stronger this time. He could make no more sense of it now than he could then, other than the closer the they got to those mountains the more uneasy he became.

Uwain had never bought into the tales of curses and creatures that was said to plague the hidden kingdom, likening them to little more than superstitious bedtime stories. Now, though, he wasn't sure what to think. He hoped they would keep their distance from the large black peaks, at least until he had a way to figure out why they were affecting him.

"You shouldn't be out here by yourself."

"Why are we here, Cal?" Uwain sighed, turning to face the knight who was now leaning haphazardly against the side of the building. He should have known the older knight would have followed him out, such was the lament of his life. Not that he minded all that much, at least not with the company he currently kept. He had no doubt his father had sent Cal to keep an eye on him, but he suspected the man would have volunteered, had he not been asked .

That his father had forbid him from venturing any further than Mercia's northern border had always been a point of conflict between them, so the orders to come here had been a shock to all of them. To do what, though, he still wasn't sure.

"Your father wants answers."

"She's dead, Cal. This is a waste of time and resources and we both know it."

"Believing her fate is her own doing and no concern of his, is not the same as believing her dead."

"You believe she's alive?"

"I don't care either way, nor does it matter. Whether Hunith lives, is, as you say, insignificant. What matters is her son, and there's too much happening for your father to look away from it any longer. Your grandfather..."

"… is ancient and paranoid," Uwain interrupted, irritated by the subject. "I love him more than any other, but even I must admit he's lost the plot. There is a reason my father is regent."

"I wouldn't go that far, Sire. Your grandfather is set in the old ways and paranoid, yes, but he's not crazy. He knows something's afoot, and so does your father. I know you two don't get on, but he would never have sent you here for something minor."

"Or he's trying to get me out of the way as hostilities increase, rather than let me fight like the man he refuses to acknowledge I've become."

At that Cal said nothing, turning his gaze to the forest, where Camelot's white peaked towers revealed themselves above the tree tops. Cal had been here once before, though only as a scout. Uwain remembered how furious he'd been about it at the time, considering the increasing tensions to the north, and the constant stream of refugees fleeing the war between the Danes and Picts just off their western shore. It was a rare moment of candor when the knight had fumed to his then-squire that his mother had petitioned to send him south, despite his skill with a blade. His father had been sent to Carleon and his Aunt Hunith to Cerniw during a time of unrest when they were children. Hell, it was that action that led to Dyfed's involvement in this mess in the first place. Surely the knight would understand it wasn't a stretch to believe his father would do the same to him?

"If there is war to be fought, Uwain, it is more likely to be here than in Dyfed, at least in the short term."

"The south is impregnable. All this nonsense about Cerniw is a distraction while Catigern and Vortimer plot to take to take the lands we've gained in Elmet and Gwynedd."

"Our allies saw four score ride to the citadel in battle formation," Cal countered.

"And they also saw them retreat peacefully the next day."

"And they left a few behind, who entered the citadel freely, unless you insist our allies brought news of fiction, Sire?"

"Damn it Cal, enough." Uwain turned away from the older knight in disgust. As glad as he was to finally explore the southern kingdoms, that didn't mean he wasn't resentful of the speculation that had prompted the trip. He'd always been grateful for the candor between them, but this was a topic he could not stomach for long. As far as he was concerned the fate of Hunith and her family had driven his grandfather into lunacy, and forces that worked against him only continued to bring it up to keep him, and now his father, unsettled.

"As you say, Sire," the older knight gave a small defeated shake of his head, before gesturing the young prince back into the establishment that held their rooms for the evening.

"Don't be like that," Uwain relented, instantly remorseful about snapping at his friend and mentor. Cal was quiet by nature, at least most of the time, and he took few into his confidence, let alone a squire, no matter how high born they were. Cal may have been six years his senior, but the relationship they had forged meant a lot to him.

"You ask questions, but you don't want answers. I understand your aversion, but it doesn't change the facts."

"He's right." A loud crash behind them caused both men to turn and face Bruenor stumbling in their direction, too far gone in his drink to stand upright.

"You don't even know what we're talking about," Cal snorted at the sight of the gentle giant trying and failing to reach them without spilling the ale in the cup.

"I heard enough" Bruenor slurred, flashing a wide grin before nearly toppling over onto Cal, who had reached out to steady his comrade in arms.

"I think you've had enough my friend," Uwain laughed, relieving the drunken knight of his tankard and tossing the remaining drink on the dirt.

"That I have." The drunken knight agreed. "But, the ale is good, and the wench's lips are as loose as their morals." Bruenor laughed, tossing his arm around the broad shoulders of his prince and whispering conspiratorially in his face. "You should try it some time."

"If smelling like this is the prize for such a conquest…" Uwain turned his head gagging as he laughed at the bearded man's antics. Bruenor was a year or two younger than Cal, and he tended to be a lot more fun. Where Cal was reserved and polite, Bruenor was boisterous with a tongue as sharp as his blade. He didn't go searching for trouble, but when it found him, his quick temper was a force to be reckoned with. He suspected Bruenor, a skilled warrior well versed in the lore of magic and dragons, would have followed them to this part of the world, even if his father hadn't sent him.

"What did you learn?" Cal asked, knowing damn well the inebriated knight would still be inside drowning in drink while plucking information from the locals, rather than outside gloating, had he learned nothing.

"Arthur's hunting a dragon, same one he said he killed years ago, you remember?"

"I do," Cal replied thoughtfully, as Bruenor laughed gleefully.

"He's admitting he didn't kill it?" Uwain raised his eyebrow, unsure how he should feel about this revelation.

"Aye, the young king is a liar just like his father"

"Doesn't really prove anything." Dyfed's prince raked his hand across the back of his neck as a chill ran the length of his spine. The sudden unease catching him off guard, if just for a moment. Forcing his eyes out into the trees beyond them, he shifted nervously on his feet.

"It proves a Dragonlord intervened, otherwise Camelot would look like Daobeth."

"Doesn't mean it's Balinor's son," Uwain huffed, scanning the foliage beyond them.

"You sense something again? Cal stiffened, reacting to his unease by placing his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Yes. No. I don't know. Not like before. I don't know how to describe it."

Uwain's magic had never been strong, in fact it was practically useless. He could light a fire here and there, but mostly it was as if it didn't even exist. Two years ago, he had been woken up by strong magic, and fleeting feelings of it had plagued him for months. Now it was happening again, only this was different. This felt dark, and ugly, making his stomach knot tighter by the minute. He'd attributed it to the enchanted mountains, but with this latest wave he could no longer be sure. Whatever it was, felt much closer than that.

"We're being watched," Bruenor slurred, in a half whisper pointing out into the sparsely populated treeline just beyond them, clumsily unsheathing his sword.

Uwain turned his attention toward movement off to his left, unsheathing his sword as he stepped in front of the inebriated knight, noting Cal had done the same less than a step behind him.

"Behind me, Sire," he heard Cal whisper as he took the lead, motioning Bruenor back inside, and Uwain behind him.

"Probably just an animal," Bruenor whispered behind them, ignoring the order to stand down.

"Probably, but if it is, there's more than one of them." Uwain's eyes bolted to his right where he once again caught movement in the brush.

It wasn't a large village, but it had an inn connected to the tavern. The large road looked to have been paved by the Romans, and not once updated in the centuries since. Though that didn't make it less usable. It was wide enough for a cart, which likely made this a regular stop on the trade routes to Camelot, and the smaller kingdoms to the east and west. Deep forest lay beyond them, halved by the straightaway, but only a small treeline separated the fields where the locals farmed their lands and kept their homes away from the outpost meant for travelers. The same treeline they were facing now. Perhaps it was locals spying on the travelers, or thieves looking for an opportunity to search the stables. Either of those possibilities would seem more likely than the wild animals you would expect to see beyond the village under the dome of woodlands this time of night. If not for the feeling of dread that had now increased ten fold, he might have dismissed it after a few minutes and returned into the dwelling for a proper night rest before they resumed their travel into Camelot's territory.

A cold chill now rippled on his skin as hairs on his arms pricked to attention. Even the crickets had ceased their chirping, as an unnerving silence fell over the area, broken only by the nervous snort of a horse, stomping in its stall behind them. Turning to face the neigh of the protesting mounts, Bruenor, now sobered by the strange occurrence, motioned to his left before stepping out in front of him and moved himself closer to the flora. None of them spoke, though their silent interactions left little doubt of their intentions.

Uwain felt it before he heard it, a deep guttural vibration that instantly made his skin crawl.

"Hells." Cal whispered, as the growl slowly turned into a devastating hum that made the inside of his ears itch. It was then that Uwain spotted the eerie pink eyes locked upon him as they peered out from behind the brush.

"What the hell is it?" Bruenor whispered, as the creatures slowly inched forward. The question went unanswered as the wind whipped through the branches adding a ghostly whine to the snarl of a creature Uwain now realized was as at least the size of a small horse.

The loud crack of a twig snapping followed by the rustling of leaves behind them caused his heart to lurch, and the neigh of the now agitated courser did not help the situation. It would not take long before the horses would draw the attention of those still inside the tavern, and he shuddered to think the consequences if they came outside.

"On three, take a very small, very slow, step backward." Cal commanded under his breath, knowing there was little they could do but slowly back away from the confrontation and hope the beasts stood down enough to lose interest and be on their way.

It was a good plan. It was the only plan, as there was little more they could do in this situation. Until the second snap of twigs, and the steady breath of a creature he was now certain was behind him, warmed his skin.

"One is behind us." He managed to get out, without taking a breath, noticing both Cal and Bruenor nod in acknowledgement, before making the decision to slowly turn to face his attacker.

He had barely gotten a glimpse of the beast before it flared its nostrils and pounced, knocking the breath from his lungs as it trampled him to the ground with more force than any warhorse would ever be able to muster. Instinctively he thrust his arm upward toward the rancid breath snarling above him, catching the beast on the side of the head before it could bring it jaws down upon him. Uwain screamed as the jagged teeth made contact with his shoulder. For a brief moment, the world exploded and his vision ceased as pain ripped through his insides like molten metal being poured through his veins. Infuriated by the thought of dying like this, he swung his free arm around grunting as his sword found purchase in the creatures belly, blessedly causing it to let go. Somewhere in the distance he could hear the shouting, and the clang of metal before an almighty roar filled his ears and the earth began to quake beneath him. Breathlessly, he tried to clear his vision and push himself from the ground.

"Don't." He heard Bruenor grunt, before he felt himself pulled to upright and dragged away from the fight now raging behind him.

"Cal?"

"Behind you," the eldest knight shouted as the door to the tavern blew open, and they were propelled into side of the building. Grunting as they hit the ground, he felt rather than saw his companions dive on top of him, making contact with his shoulder. Unable to suppress the strangled scream that escaped his lips Uwain's world turned orange before it faded to black, and he finally lost consciousness.

---

"Merlin."

The deep timbre of the dragon intruding in his head momentarily startled the warlock from his thoughts, and he turned his head slightly towards the window and sighed. Would this day never end? Laying under the plush blankets in the bed that shouldn't be his, Merlin rolled over with a groan and brought the pillow over his head, willing the voice away, yet knowing it could not be ignored.

"You're being hunted, it's too dangerous for me to meet you," the warlock sighed scrubbing his hand across his face.

Sleep was futile, and after the events of the day, he was certain he wasn't the only one awake staring at the ceiling and wondering where it had all gone wrong. A fortnight ago he would have gotten up, snuck past Gaius and taken a walk to clear his thoughts, maybe even called the dragon to help him sort them, but such a luxury would be more difficult with knights outside his door, insisting to follow him wherever he went. Is this how Arthur felt when Merlin followed him all those times? He almost felt guilty about it now, though he wouldn't do it differently, for the same reason he wouldn't blame Galahad or Cador, now. The King had to be protected.

You have many names.

Understand this, if you were to die you would endanger the lives of all those that rely upon you.

He had many names alright, Merlin, Emrys, Dragonlord, Hell even Ambrosius, but King? That word was so natural with Arthur, in fact the moment the crown was placed on his blond locks had been one of the most significant moments in Merlin's life. Perhaps as significant as it was in Arthur's, if for different reasons. But in that moment, and the many since, he had forgotten Kilgharrah words, and what they might cryptically mean for the future beyond his crowning. Arthur was King now, and had been for over a year, yet Merlin had done nothing. He had protected him, gotten him through to that moment he became King, but he had done nothing to prepare him for the destiny that awaited him once that moment had past… Nothing. In fact, he now felt further from his destiny than he was when he started. One day Arthur would be the greatest King to ever live, but he wasn't yet. The promise had been for his people, those with magic, that we may one day be free, but that was never promised, was it? Just hoped for, maybe?

Only if Uther dies can magic return to the land. Only if Uther dies will you be free, Merlin. Uther's reign is at an end, let Arthur's reign begin. Fulfill your destiny. Free this land from tyranny, Merlin.

Your choice is a hard one, young warlock. Yet you and I must hold hope that Arthur will bring about a new age. An age where the likes of you and I are respected once again. If he sees his father killed through the use of magic, it will harden his mind forever.

Bloody dragon contradictions didn't exactly make his life or path easier, either. Yet, there they were. Let Uther die by the sorcerer Tauren and its ok but let him die by Gilli's hand and it would harden Arthur's mind forever. In the end, Arthur had seen his father die with magic, and that was down to him, and him alone. Sure, Morgana and Agravaine did their part, but it was up to him to see it through. He should have known, he should have guessed Arthur would tell his Uncle. Gaius had sensed the charm immediately once the deed had been done. He should have sensed it long before it had the chance to its evil work. He'd been sloppy, and it cost him everything.

Was the hope of Arthur's destiny gone? For all the lost time spent helping the then Prince turn against magic, in part due to his own mistrust of the sorcerers he'd encountered, the prospects now seemed daunting. Arthur had gotten the right of it when he'd confronted his father, and Merlin had ruined it. Why couldn't he have told Arthur something else about Morgause, why did he have to say she was lying? He could have easily said even if it were true, she was using it to manipulate him. He could have said, even if it were true, Uther might not have known or intended. He could have said anything but denying it outright. Not that it mattered, even now Arthur claimed magic killed his mother, though he suspected that had more to do with Arthur grasping at any reason to blame his mother's death on anyone or anything, once he was given a possibility that it was not him that caused her demise.

With a sigh Merlin sat up, looking around the plush room he was quickly beginning to resent, the soft snores from the antechamber catching his attention. Arthur and his people were now facing a potential war, simply because he lived. Arthur was now facing a divided counsel because he was here and knew the truth. How many other kingdoms would react badly? Would Cerniw also face hostility because he showed up? Would they face it if the enchantment fell and the borders were open once more? He hadn't realized at the time all those lives Kilgharrah had claimed relied upon him included an entire Kingdom full of those without magic as well as with it. Kilgharrah had known though and kept his silence. He'd had the opportunity to tell him then and hadn't.

Irritated by the dragon he knew he'd not heard the last from this night, the warlock smacked away his blankets and made his way to the window, slowly parting the drapes to look out upon the kingdom he'd made his home, and that, until now, had adopted him as their own.

A small smile threatened as he noticed the two figures out on the training field. For a moment he felt jealous of George, standing outside in the dead of night looking miserable, cold and exhausted as he watched his King brutalize a training dummy. But the emotion was fleeting as the weight of guilt descended back on his shoulders.

Arthur was struggling, and it was only going to get worse. Tomorrow Arthur would know all, because Merlin wouldn't let another day pass where his friend was kept in the dark. He would not risk his friend finding out about Merlin's magic from others. He would make the connection between the dragon and himself, because he refused to allow others to do it for him. He would not hold secret a passage between two Kingdoms technically at war with each other. He had years to prepare Arthur for tomorrow, and he'd done nothing. He had no doubt there would be severe repercussions, he knew Arthur well enough to know he was his most dangerous blindsided otherwise he would march out to the field right now and bare his soul. No. He allowed this mess to get to this point, and Arthur's temper was his to shoulder alone. He'd get Lucan, his mother, Gaius, Cador, Galahad, and even Manafort, if he so desired, to the safety of Cerniw in the morning. Then he'd come clean to his friend, and hope they were still friends.

"MERLIN!" Kilgharrah shouted once more in his mind, causing him to stumble backwards and grab his ears in protest.

"I heard you the first damn time. Arthur is out on the training field and will see you." Merlin grumbled the thought in response, peeking his head into the antechamber to convince himself he'd not woken young Lucan from his slumber, before grabbing his boots and slipping them on, knowing that unless ordered Kilgharrah would come anyway.

"I will approach from a different direction, young warlock. It is urgent."

He didn't need to give his acknowledgement, he knew Kilgharrah had felt it somehow. Dread quickly slithered over Merlin's body as he made his way to the door, still unsure of how he was going to get past the knights stationed outside. Kilgharrah didn't just show up demanding meetings, whatever he needed to discuss was sure to make Merlin's night worse than it already was. Funny how just a few minutes earlier he didn't think that possible.

Using his magic to silence the door as it opened, Merlin peeked his head into the hallway, finding Galahad and Elyan having a quiet conversation near the end of the corridor. A quick spell to keep their focus on anything but him passed his lips with a whisper and he turned down the hall. Huh, maybe that wasn't as hard as he thought. A quick dip behind a column as a very grumpy Arthur passed by returning to his room, Merlin found himself truly alone for the first time in days, as he made his way past the guards and out into the wooded area beyond the castle walls. It had been easier than usual tonight, likely due to their preoccupation with something near the guard tower. A lucky break that Merlin would not question considering the urgency in Kilgharrah's request. He just hoped the dragon would be fast about it, they had maybe an hour before the dawn.

---

"Unbelievable," Catigern muttered, squeezing the scroll into a ball before tossing it into the fire. He had warned the alliance was too volatile and she could not be trusted, but his mother had insisted the wench could be contained. Mab ap Pwyll was powerful, and more educated than Morgana Gorlois could ever hope to achieve, so in the end, he'd left her to it. That the witch was as clever as she was impulsive shouldn't have been a surprise. It was a mistake they would not repeat.

Taking a deep breath of the cool air, he couldn't help but be hit with a bit of nostalgia. Many times had he stood on this hill listening to his father boast of conquering these lands for Woden, in the name of his father. He had been 8 winters when he had been stolen in the night and rushed to the sea to escape the flaming demons. The last he'd seen of his father, stoic even in his defeat, had been wrapped in their flames. Perhaps he could have forgiven such atrocities as the price of war had his mother not been forced from the lands of her birth to the shores of Brittany where she was regarded a heretic for her choice of deities. He may have even looked past the arrogance of the savages, had he and his brothers not been ostracized for the failures of their father, by the grandfather who disowned them in shame.

These lands were their home, and by all the gods and goddesses, they would retake them. This time not for glory, but for good. The northern territories, left weak by the Romans' retreat and picked over by the Danes' growing interest, were easier pickings. He could at least respect the Picti, though the sight of them painted in blue as they chanted their gibberish still made him laugh. They may have been willing to resort to barbarism to retain their lands, but they never reached into the underworld for demons to aid them. In truth he probably had more in common with the Picti than the Celti of the south, despite their tribal ties being of closer relation.

For many years Brittany had held close cooperation with the southeastern coast of the promised land, its people trading freely, and ships sailing regularly. Eventually many had come to settle, building farmsteads, and venturing inland toward the most sacred sites and power centers. Pockets of fighting were not unheard of, the Dumonii had never relented in the fight against the outsiders. Balking at their settlement, their warriors set many encampments alight, even as they fought amongst themselves and with neighboring tribes for land and resources. It wasn't until their most revered warrior, Bruta, had gained support to the western shore stretching as far north as the sea, that such relations had violently ended, and his people were pushed back into Gaul.

His family had maintained power in Brittany, but retaking the isle had always been a goal, despite it being presented for generations as a cautionary tale. It had been said Bruta had only managed his feat due to his alignment with demons. Though such tales had never been proven, they had been reinforced by the descendants of Roman refugees who claimed their ancestors had also been forced to flee the unholy savages. Undeterred by the bedtime stories, his grandfather had sent his men across the channel before his birth, only to learn the truth of them.

Infuriated by the slaughter of his men and ships by the draca and their masters, his quest for the isle, and the powerful magic contained within it, quickly turned to obsession. One that eventually tore his family apart and resulted in his ouster mere decades later.

Sighing, Catigern turned his eye toward the rider approaching, irritation at the situation he now found himself in erasing the nostalgia he'd felt only moments earlier.

"You shouldn't be here." The coarse voice grunted as he brought his mount to an abrupt stop before him.

"I was born here."

"And deposed here. Vortigern's defeat is not so far from memory for some that they would not recognize his son. If we should be caught you may be spared, if only to hold against your brother, but my neck shall be severed without hesitation."

"Then you shouldn't have left the citadel, though I admit it's good to see you, Accolin."

"Aye, you as well," the younger man nodded, sending the long locks of dark hair into his face as the wind whipped around him. "We must be short, Mercia has broken the armistice, a patrol left last night, and I expect more to follow with the dawn."

"The campaign was successful then?" Catigern smiled for the first time in days at the news.

"Seems so, though I'm told the Mercians are less convinced of Camelot's culpability in their dead, they are incensed at the trickery of the servant's true identity, which Arthur confirmed to the court."

"Will you be able to continue with your subterfuge?"

"For now, provided we have no more of these impromptu meetings." The lord raised his eyebrows pointedly. "But, since you are here; I shall save myself the bother of sending a message. A dragon has been sighted. Arthur has men out hunting it all over the kingdom."

"The boy King knows neither his heritage nor his history," Catigern snorted. "The last draca is known to me. If Arthur wishes to kill it before we can, may Woden be with him."

"It's said the Ambrosius boy can control it."

"Aye, which is why it's a shame he's still breathing. Why is that again?"

"Between Arthur's inner circle and his own retinue now hovering over his every move, he's a little difficult to get to."

"Nothing worthwhile was ever easy, Accolin."

"I'm here out of respect for the relationship of our father's and our friendship as children, Catigern, but I like my life and intend to keep it. Why are you here?"

"Morgana has disappeared and stolen something of mine. Should you hear hide or hair of her, use a raven if need be, lest she endanger the entire mission."

"Of course, though I would imagine should her activities come to my ear, there will be enough bodies to follow that such a summons will be unnecessary. I warned she was too unstable to trust."

They all had warned that, if he was honest, but he would not impugn his mother's judgement, no matter how much he disagreed with it. At least not to an opportunist whose family had risen to power through his father's placement of status.

"Be that as it may, she still believes Morgause to be her kin and hides behind the curse inflicted upon her to reduce her sight. She has purpose, if she can be brought under control."

"Lofty goal for one so far gone as that," Accolin snorted, "but I trust you have methods at your disposal Arthur would not employ, so I shall wait with interest at the results."

"First we must find her. I suspect she'll seek out the Druids, in particular, my mother's nephew, Ruadan. Any mention of either, I'm to hear of it immediately."

"Then I shall keep my ears open for news. I should return, the shifts will be changing soon, and I don't want to be caught outside the castle. But, before I go, Balinor's Queen has arrived at the citadel, though few who oppose her presence seem to recognize her when she enters."

"Such magic would not difficult to obtain for one in her position but keep an eye on her. She's worthless politically, but she may prove useful against her son."

"Of course. With your leave then."

At that Catigern nodded as the lord turned his mount back towards the towers of his birth. He had loved and lost everything here, his home, his father, his honor, and his status. Here he would regain it or die trying.

Notes:

Hi. I got nothing. So much happened in the past year that I don't even know where to start. Then after writing and trashing about 50k words I entered a funk. I'm out of the funk, with a lot of help from some very good people in a Merlin chat on Discord. MoonFox, Wryter, Charis, Doberler, JoJo, and so many others who have been so helpful in getting me out of my funk. If I don't post this now, I'll probably edit it 1000 times, trash it and rewrite it again, so yeah. Here we go. I do have chapters behind this one already written. I was struggling to get from A to B. I think I'm there. As promised I will not abandon this story, but life is busy for me these days and I'm not going to bother to commit to an uploading schedule. It seems every time I try to do that, I break it. Thanks for your patience. I did make a family tree, for those who asked for it. I'm just trying to figure out how to put it on here. If you want the link to the discord chat let me know, I'm happy to share it in PM. nljfs, you can edit the next chapter, I promise. I had to get this one out, or it probably wasn't coming out. Onwards

Chapter 17

"What now?" Arthur sighed, as he entered the throne room, addressing the flickering shadows the torchlight cast upon the walls, rather than those with the audacity to wake him before the sun had begun its ascent toward the horizon. Wake him was a relative term he supposed, considering he hadn't yet slept. Behind him Gwen entered, squeezing his arm as she moved beside him, a sympathetic but encouraging upturn of her lips told him she wasn't as cross with him as she had every right to be. Strengthened by her presence beside him, Arthur looked over the room and the small group of battle-worn men that now inhabited it. Quickly making eye contact with Percival, he sighed with resignation and nodded toward the corner, lowering his voice for privacy when his most massive knight joined him.

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure, Arthur. We caught sight of a fire raging in the direction of Catreath and turned towards it, found the older man trailing after those two." Percival nodded toward the two men stocky men, Arthur guessed was near about Leon's age. "The third of their group was injured. Gaius is with him now, but he's in a bad way. The old man says a dragon attacked the outpost, but those two claim wolves attacked them."

"Wolves?" Arthur glanced back curiously at the two men, noting they both looked to be fighting fit, and one of them could potentially give Percival a run for his money when it came to size. They certainly looked like the could fight off wolves, at any rate.

"Big ones, and they had pink eyes."

"Pink eyes? Well, that's a new one," Arthur wrinkled his brow contemplating with a shudder. If such a creature existed, it was sure to be unnatural in its nature.

"The fire leans towards a dragon attack, but the injured man's wound," Percival shook his head. "Whatever took a bite out him was big, bigger than any wolf I've ever seen, but not as big as a dragon."

Nodding his understanding, Arthur raked his palm across his eyes, perturbed he found a small amount of relief in the fact he was dealing with magical creatures, then an all-out attack by another Kingdom. "What of the rest of the men?" Arthur spoke a little louder, feeling the eyes of the witnesses on his back.

"They rush towards Catraeth, Sire."

At that Arthur nodded his approval before turning toward the wall. With a start, he realized Merlin wasn't standing there rocking anxiously on his feet, already mentally putting together the list of provisions they'd need when they inevitably left at dawn. Instead, it was George, who wore a blank expression as if he were not even paying attention to what was happening in front of him. Turning away from the dreaded servant Merlin had cursed him with, Arthur focused his attention on the three men in front of him. An older man, filthy from his travels, covered in what Arthur sorely hoped was soot, stepped forward the moment he had turned toward to face them.

"It was the dragon, Sire." The man exclaimed excitedly, slinging spittle as every word left his mouth, giving Arthur enough pause to take a step back for safety.

Behind him, the two men, shifted uncomfortably, shaking their heads as they whispered back and forth to each other, the larger of the two looking as if he was ready to throttle the old man in front of him.

"I saw it attack us with me own eyes, came out the sky like a demon spitting its flame, attacking the horses. Durned beast picked one clean up in its maw before it roasted it with his flame. Burnt down half me stables."

"It picked up a wolf as big as a horse, and killed it like it killed the rest of them." The dark-haired brute rolled his eyes at the older man, before being silenced by his companion with an elbow to the ribs.

"But it was a dragon, was it not?" Arthur raised his brow at the men, giving them his full attention. They were dressed in casual clothes, but they hinted of a higher station than the old man, whom he figured was a local. The blades on their hip were of excellent make. He might not have been close enough to inspect them, they were of a fine enough quality to denote their owners as high born. Travelers, most likely, and with matching hilt and pommels, he wouldn't be surprised to learn the blades came from a royal armory.

"How could it be a dragon? I thought you killed the last or was that a lie?" the larger of the two smirked, raising his brow at the King, who stiffened at the impertinence in his tone, before meeting his steely gaze.

"Perhaps you could tell us more about the wolves," Gwen stepped in hastily, moving between the two men and her husband, raising her eyes at Arthur, silently pleading with him to remember he was here to gather facts, not get into the confrontation this man seemed to be itching for.

"Massive, with pink eyes. They move in silently in packs, which is saying something given their size, and they're impervious to our steel, milady." The belligerent man's companion replied, giving the brute a pointed look before stepping forward and nodding apologetically to the King.

"I didn't see no wolves, milord," the older man, stepped forward again, trying to regain the Kings attention.

"Because you were in the tavern doing what a barkeep is supposed to be doing."

"Aye, and I served you far too many tankards to trust your sight. It ate the horse's milord, I swear on it."

"Enough," Arthur proclaimed, silencing all before he turned back to the barkeep. "How many injured?"

"Only bumps and bruises that I saw, outside of these fellows' friend."

"Thank you." Arthur nodded and turned toward his servant. "George, find the gentleman a bed to sleep in, Percival round-up as many men as you can muster, we leave with the dawn. You two," he nodded at the two strangers, "come with me. Gaius might have an idea about what attacked your friend. You can accompany me to his quarters. "

"No need, Sire," Gaius' voice rang through the room, as he turned the corner and entered it.

"The boy is sleeping. He will survive," the old man spoke to the two men placating them as they started forward in his direction, "but his recovery will be long."

"How long?"

"Until he's recovered," Gaius responded curtly, "we'll have to see how he does in the coming days before I could give a timeline that's accurate."

"What of his injuries?" Arthur asked, cutting the larger of the two off from speaking again, as Gaius quickly become his only focus.

"I believe we're dealing with a dire wolf, or most likely a pack of them."

"A dire wolf," Arthur repeated looking upon his physician expectantly as if waiting for an explanation.

"Dire wolves were said to be guardians of the Faye. They're fearsome creatures, and extraordinarily difficult to kill. The question is what they are doing here, now. They've not been seen in these lands since before your birth."

"Right around the time Mab ran to Gaul, and took cubs with her, you mean?" The larger of the two men spoke again, cocking his head to the side as he regarded the physician in front of him.

"The wolves were already near extinction when they were killed off during the battle for Camelot. There is no evidence Mab got her hands on any of the pups, let alone took them to Gaul."

"Which explains why my man is currently facing a long recovery from the bite of one?"

"Bruenor stop," the man's companion sighed, pulling the larger man backward.

Gratefully Arthur studied the stocky man as he pushed the dishwater blonde locks from his face and whispered something to his companion. "You'll have to excuse my friend, my lord, it's been a long night. But he's correct, we're both learned enough to know dire wolves were from Nudd's domain, and Mab is his niece. Given tonight's events it doesn't appear to be conjecture to say Mab took pups with when she left, and now she's back."

"And how might you be learned enough to know that?" Arthur asked, crossing his arms across his chest as he studied them, hoping they'd give enough away to at least identify where they came from since they didn't seem keen to offer it, otherwise.

"Read it in a book," the larger man, Bruenor, replied with a smirk.

Refusing to take the bait, Arthur instead chose to ignore him, realizing they weren't going to give anything up, he turned his attention back to Gaius who was watching their interaction wearily.

"If they went extinct when my father reclaimed Camelot, how did he get rid them?"

"He didn't," Bruenor grunted," earning him a wary eye from both the physician and the Queen. "Dragons and Dire Wolves are natural enemies, any noble on the Isle worth his salt was taught that in history class."

"The dire wolves were mostly killed during the war, by several different means, but yes, mostly by the dragons." Gaius raised his hand to stop the King from taking the bait before he continued. "We may have to consider the possibility there is some truth in the claims and Mab has returned to these lands."

"Perhaps," Arthur admitted as he turned toward the wall and paced in a circle. If they were dealing with Vortigern's widow, then there really was a potential Saxon invasion imminent, but Morgana was involved. He was certain of it. "She would have to be ancient by now."

"Yes, Gaius agreed, slightly rolling his eyes, "but she is well versed in potent magic, Arthur, the likes of which this isle hasn't seen in a generation. If she indeed took pups to Gaul, then they are well trained and lethal. She's dangerous, no matter her age."

"Perhaps, but she's beatable, that I stand here in this room now, proves that."

"Beatable with magic," Bruenor scoffed, making their presence known once more. "I don't suppose you have any of that locked up below your keep? Or maybe a dragon lord or two, because Mab's brats have been making a mess of the north for a few years now, not that you've been paying attention. If she's brought these things back into these lands, it's just a matter of time before they spread into kingdoms far beyond Camelot."

"How about you let me worry about things like that, and you worry about your friend's health." Arthur finally snapped in irritation, having heard enough disrespect this early in the morning to push him past his limits of diplomacy. At least the man had given him enough to suspect they were northerners, though what they were doing this far south was a mystery. Seething as the doors finally closed behind Gaius and the two men, whom he'd instructed to follow the physician he gave the servants orders to prepare rooms for them. That was as much as they would get from him. It was more than he'd done for the barkeep, whom he'd known would be put up at the local inn. At least in the castle, he could keep an eye on them, because he had a funny feeling he'd not seen nor heard the last of them.

"There is more to those men than they appear, be careful Arthur."

Gwen, his sweet Guinevere, reading his mind, from only a few steps away. Pulling her toward him, he sighed contented as she melted into his chest. He'd missed her, distracted as he'd been by the events of the last few weeks, but here she had been the whole time, silent but stoic, paying attention and not missing a beat with running the Kingdom as he dealt with more substantial issues.

"I fear your right," he murmured into her hair, resting his cheek against the crown of her head, as he stared at the wall beyond him, noticing Leon for the first time.

"When did you get here?" He arched his brow towards his first knight, grateful for his silent presence by his side, without having to be summoned, though disconcerted he'd not noticed the man's entrance.

"I slipped in just before Gaius did. I saw Percival in the hallway, he filled me in." Leon responded, pushing himself off the pillar he'd been leaning upon. "I don't like this Arthur, he was mining you for information, or at least trying to."

Next, to him, Guinevere nodded into his chest, agreeing with Leon, but unwilling to let go of her husband to do it.

"What kind of information do you suppose they sought, though? He didn't really say anything beyond trying to goad me."

"No, but he was combative when it came to the dragon. Then he mentions magic, and Dragon Lords, like he's accusing us of having both." Gwen sighed, finally pulling away from her husband. Hugging herself nervously, the queen bit her lip.

"I value your counsel, Guinevere," Arthur replied gently, knowing the gesture meant she had much to say but wasn't sure she should.

"The people are talking, Arthur. I'm not sure we can trust any of this, not even that man's injury. Can we? I know how busy you've been, but there's been so much rumor in all quarters of Camelot's populace about Merlin's father, and even his grandfather. And now these creatures that are enemies of the dragons show up. What if they're implying we might need the dragon to defeat them. If Merlin's truly the son of a Dragon Lord, what if they're trying to smoke him out? What if this is all an elaborate trick?"

"The injuries are real, and so are the wolves, or Gaius would have said otherwise," Leon said, rubbing his hand across the whiskers lining his chin. "But I agree, it seemed to me that man was using the situation to try and get information. His mention of keeping Dragon Lords under the keep, which if I remember right is where the dragon was once kept is suspicious. I don't like it. It wouldn't surprise me a bit if those men were knights of an unfriendly realm, on a scouting mission, or worse. I don't think it would hurt to put extra guards on Merlin's chambers."

"I don't like it either, in fact, I don't want Merlin anywhere near it." Arthur agreed, his mind now turning to his friend, sleeping blissfully unaware in his room. "But the truth is I don't think we can avoid telling him what's happened tonight. If Mab ap Penarddun is back in these lands, it's possible MP refers to her, and not Morgana as we thought. Though I'm positive, she's involved somehow."

"We can't tell him," Gwen protested, grabbing her husband's arm begging him to reconsider the decision she had to know he'd already made.

"It's not just Camelot that's in danger. If I understand things correctly, Merlin was crowned King of at least part of those lands the moment he was born. That his father became regent in his stead and consolidated the kingdoms on his behalf could technically make him King of all the moment his father died, no ceremony necessary. Whether he knows it or not, unless or until he abdicates that throne. I cannot keep this from him."

"And if he should decide to become a Dragon Lord to defeat these creatures, what then?" Gwen protested, "Will his knowledge have been worth it? I can't bear to lose him like that, it would have been kinder to let him die than let the Old Religion have any influence over him."

"I don't think he can decide to become a Dragon Lord. It's more likely he already is one." Leon said quietly, raking his hand through his curly locks and exhaling loudly, raising his hands in surrender as the Queen nearly lunged at him. "I've heard it's not a choice, you either inherit the gift, or you don't, and it's passed the same way a crown is, upon the father's death to the first-born male heir."

"I've heard that too but have had no reason to put stock in it. Do you think we should?" Gwen asked, her eyes widening in fear, as she resumed biting on her bottom lip.

"Put stock in it?" Leon asked, leaning his back and tapping the back of his head against the wall lightly.

"My father is a knight of Cerniw. I know about the Dragon Lords, though I was never permitted to speak on it. I think you'll find Elyan knows of them too, if only for overhearing when we were children. He's not said anything, but I can see the way he glances at Merlin and avoids him."

"I didn't want to say anything," Gwen sighed, "but I think perhaps that has less to do with Merlin than it does his dislike for your father. Ever since Manafort sent him back to the forge and refused to continue to train him, he can barely stand any mention of him."

"That's possible. I never thought it a coincidence that Elyan left the kingdom after my father returned to Camelot to take a permanent seat on the council. But the entire confrontation between them was prompted by us overhearing a conversation about Balinor and his boy having the potential to be stronger than his father. I don't know what that means. We were both young boys at the time, but knowing they were speaking of Merlin is as troubling as it is baffling from what we all know of the man. You both need to prepare yourselves for the possibility that Merlin is his father's son."

"Merlin doesn't have magic." Gwen huffed, shaking her head in denial. I have been reading the many tomes brought to the chambers by Geoffrey to know that Dragon Lords do. So, he may have the potential if he studied to be a Dragon Lord or to be stronger than his father, whatever that means, but there is no way he is already."

"Perhaps, my lady, but to see potential, one would have to witness it. Merlin went with us to face that dragon without any armor or weapons, and since that event, many on the council have claimed he banished it instead of killing it. Now here it is alive, and just days ago Merlin told all of us, he told the dragon he'd kill it if he came back."

Obviously, I told him I would kill him if I did.

Right, and I suppose he quaked with fear and flew away with his tail tucked between his giant legs.

Well as a matter of fact.

"He was joking Leon," Arthur jumped into the conversation if only to stop this topic, and the recollections of conversation Leon's statement had prompted. Merlin was capable of a lot of things but intentionally making a fool out of him wasn't one of them. "Guinevere is right, Merlin doesn't have magic. He'd never learn magic, and even if he were a Dragon Lord by accident of his birth and had the power to kill a dragon, he would have killed it in retaliation for its attack. Or well, have me kill it because Merlin can't kill a rat, let alone a damn dragon." Arthur rolled his eyes, though it did little to quell the unease beginning to take root in his belly. "Your fears about him are unfounded and unwarranted. Merlin is loyal to Camelot and to me almost to a fault. I won't hear another word otherwise."

"I'm sure he was joking, Arthur, I would never imply that Merlin has magic, or is an enemy of Camelot in any way. He's my friend too, and I'd protect him with my life. I'm just trying to warn you of the possibility Sire because there's often a bit of truth spoken in jest. Merlin may already know he is a Dragon Lord, and with that knowledge known of the dragon's survival. When he learns of these creatures, if he has the ability, he may take matters into his own hands, and by doing so identify himself to others who may wish to use him for ill."

Clueless enough to command a dragon?

The boy didn't kill the dragon; he let him go.

Damn it. Was Merlin a Dragon Lord? Was that even possible? It would make sense, given his own recollections of that day out in the field. In the end, Merlin had been the only one left standing. But if entirely having that ability required magic, then it was impossible. He couldn't deny the possibility the former servant could learn, but the choice was his whether he chose to explore it or not. Merlin wouldn't exactly have had the opportunity to do so in Camelot. The idea he might have an innate ability to perform a spell if he studied, was a thought that suddenly terrified him. Eventually, Merlin would be going to a kingdom where magic roamed freely. For him to do so while possessing such intimate knowledge of Camelot and all her defenses stuck fear into his heart. Would they try to turn him to the dark art and use him against them? With a connection to the Old Religion in his blood would Merlin give in to the temptation? He'd already indicated he had no intentions of immediately banning magic in the kingdom, and he'd befriended a sorcerer many years ago. No, he had to believe Merlin wouldn't do that, but that didn't mean he was going to allow Merlin anywhere near Cerniw until they had a long talk about this and set some ground rules.

But that was for the future. Right now, Merlin knew nothing of magic, Gaius would ever allow him to pursue it, any more than Arthur would. The former manservant might be a little shifty and secretive at times, but he wasn't a liar. The timing then and now was merely a coincidence, because it was impossible Merlin was a magician, even an untrained or unskilled one, with the ability to command a dragon.

"If we kill the damn beast, it won't matter," he said more to himself than anyone else. "If the dragon's dead any link between Merlin and the Old Religion will die with it." Nodding to himself, knowing he'd just made up his mind, he turned toward his wife. "I hate to ask more of you when your burden running this kingdom is already so high because of this mess, but I need to find that dragon and kill it myself."

"Of course. Take as much time as you need. But what do we do with Merlin and his mother in the meantime? The situation here hasn't changed."

"Hunith will be fine here, Manafort will protect her if asked, I'm sure of it." Arthur paused, glancing at Leon for confirmation, and getting a small nod of his head in acknowledgment. He hadn't reacted to Leon's declaration of Manafort as a knight of Cerniw, which implied he remained one, even now, but he would file that away for later. In the moment that just meant the older man would help protect Merlin and Hunith. "Merlin will go where I go, just like he always does, and we'll have the extra swords of his men when we face it. Leon," Arthur turned back to his commanding officer. "Change of plans, go see if you can rustle up more men, while I get King Idiot out of bed. Our group will split off to hunt the dragon on our way to Catraeth."

Chapter 18

Torch lights flickering shadows across the stone walls of the corridor did little to calm Arthur's nerves. Between Merlin, Mercia, and now, the rapidly growing division in his court, he'd needed the distraction of a dragon attack like he needed a hole in the head. Anxious to leave and do something about this mess, he turned down the long hallway containing the ornate chambers Gaius had chosen. Why he needed to be at the very end while there were many rooms closer to the main thoroughfare, he wasn't sure. Gaius had insisted, and Arthur hadn't cared at the time. Now that he'd needed to make the trek, the unnecessary distance irritated him.

Reaching the dead end where the chambers were located and finding it empty, unnerved him. He'd grown accustomed to the sight of one of the two men from Cerniw posted outside the heavy oak door, and at least one or two of his own keeping them company. It had become a post his men enjoyed, if not for the company of the strangers, but the break it afforded them away from the action and attention the rest of the castle demanded of them. Manafort's arrival with Hunith had brought a little more traffic to the corridor, but even the Dowager Queen had been quiet and required little fuss.

Finding the chamber door slightly ajar gave him pause; with everything that had been occurring, he wasn't about to take any chances. Not bothering to knock, he slowly unsheathed his sword, cautiously pushing the oak open. Bracing himself for the possibility of protest, or intruders, he slowly turned into the room, lit only by the fading glow of dying embers in the fireplace. Well, that answered that. Relaxing the weapon, Arthur scanned the empty room, unnerved by the stillness. Just because Arthur would have woken Merlin to go on a late-night walk, didn't mean Merlin would do the same. He'd at least expect to hear the young attendant breathing, which wasn't the case. Creeping toward the back of the room, Arthur edged around the large table they'd broke their fast on the day before as he followed the curvature of the wall to where it split revealing the small quarters reserved for serving staff.

Empty, though occupied recently enough the small mattress still dented from the body weight of the servant. Given the state of the large four poster bed in the main chambers, Merlin hadn't had a restful night either. The man's boots were missing, which was a good sign his absence was intentional. But that didn't explain the boy's lack. It was more likely Galahad, or Cador had gotten word of the incident and woken the former servant. Now convinced Cerniw's knights had done his job for him he turned to leave; his motion abruptly halted as a heavy oak door swung, narrowly missing his face.

"He's not..." Lucan barreled into the room; his voice silenced as he found himself facing the tip of the King's sword now pointed at his throat.

Feeling the razor-sharp edge of cold steel press against his own, Arthur tensed, curbing the urge to spin on his assailant once Cador revealed himself, stepping in front of the boy and quirking his brow.

"Where the hell did you come from?" Arthur thundered, relaxing his blade as he looked past the knight to the young man behind him. "I could have bloody well killed you."

"Good job you didn't, that might have gotten messy," Cador smirked, lowering his weapon.

"Get out of my way," Arthur pushed past his cousin and the boy toward the door. "You better have a damn good explanation for this Mer…" Arthur stopped, his voice hitching as he found himself in a circular stone tower. "lin."

The tower has been decommissioned and filled in, but let it serve as a lesson to you. Even the noblest of intentions can be twisted by magic and leave this kingdom vulnerable should you fail to be vigilant.

Arthur surveyed the ill-fated chamber in shock as the childhood memory assaulted him.

To his Uther's credit, there were hundreds of stones stacked precariously against its walls and a winding staircase filled in entirely by boulders, preventing any from accessing the level below. At least his father hadn't lied to him about that. The stairs leading to the higher floor, customarily used as offices for various court positions, remained unobstructed, while a thick blanket of dust and cobwebs indicated they'd also, remained untouched, likely for decades. The landing on which they now stood, sparkled in comparison. Not a speck of dust could be found, even in the cracks and crevices of the empty broom closet, Cador could be seen eyeing warily in his peripheral vision.

"What the hell is this?" Arthur asked dangerously, unnerved by the juxtaposition in a tower he'd not thought of since his seventh winter. What had the boy been doing in here?

"Looks like a drum tower to me," Cador arched his brow in confusion.

"Do I look like a man to be trifled with at the moment?"

"You look like a man who doesn't know the layout of his castle."

He supposed the wing's long abandonment made sense, now that he'd remembered the long-forgotten conversation. If his father had believed it cursed, as a child, he would have avoided it. It defied reason the tower was open and accessible on this level, though, and he'd never challenged his father's belief as he'd grown. Every other tower in the citadel was adjacent to a receiving room at the second level, nearly always manned by guards to screen those who entered from the courtyard below. Even Gaius's chambers were situated this way, so why was this one different? Uther had known it was here. Of that, he was sure. Another memory of guards filling the corridor, facing in both directions flashed in front of his eyes, though the visual was so fleeting he couldn't be entirely sure it was real.

"Does Merlin know of this?" The king bristled, having missed whatever barb the darker blonde had inevitably tossed in his direction.

"He found it the night before last."

"And he didn't tell me?"

"Why would he have assumed you didn't know about it? Even if he had the inkling to, what opportunity has he had?"

Fair point, Arthur silently conceded. In truth, Merlin had been trying to talk to him for days, and Arthur hadn't taken the time to listen. Not that he'd given Cador the satisfaction.

"This tower is cursed and off limits. Someone should have told me it was accessible the moment it was found to be." He rattled off his father's belief, not knowing if the account could even be trusted, but refusing to appear as if he knew nothing of its existence, either.

"Cursed?" Cador's blue eye crinkled and filled with mirth. "You can't be serious."

"Where's Merlin?" Arthur changed the subject, taking his frustration out on the closet's wood-paneled door. His lapse of temper instantly rewarded by a shrill cry of protest echoing off stone walls as the knight dove forward.

"Was that necessary!?" Cador pounded on the door with his fist grasping at the knob and fruitlessly pulling on it.

Satisfied and intrigued by the knight's reaction over a broom closet, Arthur ignored him, using the newfound momentum in his favor as he turned toward the slack-jawed servant, staring at Cador in shock.

"Lucan, is it?" Arthur asked, addressing the boy. It was unfair and inappropriate to seek his answers from the weaker of the two men present, but at the moment he didn't give a damn. Petulant though it may be, the idea of hacking his cousin off further brought him a small sense of joy in an otherwise crappy week.

"Yes, Sire." Lucan quickly straightened to address him, like any adequately trained servant would do when called upon by royalty. And where exactly did Merlin get a trained servant from anyway, if not from Arthur's household? Something stunk, and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

"What were you doing in this tower?"

"Don't answer his questions." Cador intervened, stepping in front of the King. "Report to Lady Hunith and stay there until I've sent for you."

Smugly he watched as the boy inclined his head toward both men, a whisper of "my lords" escaping his lips as he disappeared into Merlin's chambers.

"I wasn't done questioning him."

"Yes, you most certainly were."

"Just because Merlin hired him, doesn't mean he's not a citizen of Camelot. I have every right."

"You have no right, and assumptions don't suit you. Lucan traveled from Cerniw for no other purpose than to attend to Merlin." Cador scoffed.

"And why would he do that?"

"Because he's a member of Cerniw's royal household, and he's trained his entire life to do so. If you want him questioned, you'll wait until Merlin is present."

"Funny that's not what he told me. I believe you sat right there at the table. Are you insinuating Merlin lied?"

"I wasn't there for the pleasantries of their introduction, and I didn't bother to ask for details. Rights and rules of royalty and all that rot."

"I've just about had it with your insolence."

"I don't give a damn. You claim Merlin is not your prisoner, yet you walk around demanding his presence, and every detail of his life and household as if he's your property. You can't have it both ways."

"He's not a prisoner, but he is potentially in danger, something you don't seem to give a damn about."

"Stop it, Arthur. If he was truly in danger and your interests were solely in his wellbeing, you wouldn't be stood here trying to get the last word with the likes of me. Now if there's nothing else. Milord." Cador raised his brow, letting the honorific drip off his tongue like an insult before turning out of the tower and disappearing into the chambers beyond it.

"Care to enlighten me why so much angst over a broom closet?" Arthur smirked, following behind his cousin, denying the man his exit.

"It's a pain in the arse to open," Cador replied flippantly over his shoulder. "Perhaps you could give it a go, see if you've got the special touch because I sure don't want to be the one tell Merlin it's closed after all the effort he put into opening it."

"It's a broom closet."

"That he wanted to put things in."

"Then he shouldn't have kept it from me." Arthur smiled, resisting the temptation to return to the tower and tug the door open if only to prove he could.

"You really are an ass," Cador replied coolly, leaving the room and the Arthur behind.

"Cador," he yelled down the hallway, as he let the heavy door fall closed behind him; snorting as the knight tipped his head to the side and slowed his stride.

"Have him ready to depart in three-quarters of an hour. Rights and rules of royalty and all that rot." Arthur smiled as the knight grunted in acknowledgment and turned the corner.

---

Of all the stupid reckless imbecilic. Cador raked his palm across the back of his neck as he made his way to the physician's chambers. He was going to give Merlin a piece of his mind when he found him, no matter his damn status. Galahad was rarely one to panic, about much of anything. His second in command was fearless with a level head and a keen eye for details in dangerous situations. It was one of the reasons he trusted the man more than any other in their ranks. The wild look in the olive-skinned knight's eyes disturbed him. If the rumors of a dragon attack were to believed Merlin's absence would be a nightmare. He could only hope that if the warlock was meeting with the dragon, he'd been smart enough to enter the portal to Cerniw to do so. And if he were there, he'd pass Galahad back through it, with him. With scores of Arthur's men now preparing to leave and Arthur expecting them to tag along on the journey, getting caught out with his dragon in Camelot's territory would be an unthinkable turn of events. He had a terrible feeling that's what was going to happen if he didn't find the dragonlord first.

Thanking the Gods for the sound of voices coming from the top of the circular structure, he took the stairs two at a time, relieved by the light escaping the bottom of the door. If anyone knew where the dragonlord held court with his dragon, it would be the physician.

"Gaius!" He panted, winded from the long trek across the castle, wincing as the wooden planks cracked loudly against the wall protesting the force he'd used to shove it open. For a moment, the room became still, save for a twitch in a large man's angular jaw as he clenched his teeth. Had the man pulled his weapon, or had it already been out? Not willing to risk the latter, the ring of his blade filled the room as he surveyed the scene in front of him.

"Having a party and didn't invite me?" He inquired, tilting his head to the side silently posing a much more dangerous question to the bearded stranger. Beyond him another man, lighter in complexion stepped protectively in front of the old physician, hand twitching over the pommel of his weapon.

"You alright, Gaius?"

"I'm fine," the old man finally stammered, unclutching his grip on his work table.

"You scared the life out of me entering like that in the dead of night." Gaius turned toward him, fluffy white furballs rising toward the ceiling. "Put those away, all of you," he finally scolded when none of them moved. "For the love of the goddess... Meet Sir Calogrenant and Sir Bruenor of Dyfed."

"Dyfed?" His eyes bulged. "Bloody Hell," he whistled, both men reacting less than charitably at the revelation of their identities.

"Who is on the table?" Cador asked, not bothering to lower his weapon as he looked past the strangers to the patient he could now see on the table.

"Prince Uwain," Gaius informed somberly, setting off another round of cursing from the larger of the two knights.

"Andred's son? Of course, why not." Cador seethed, tossing his hands up in exasperation. As if this situation couldn't get any worse, Dyfed picked now, of all times, to show up.

"Perfect bloody timing, gentlemen. What are you doing here, and what the hell is wrong with him?" Forcefully sheathing his weapon, no longer finding the fool giant in front of him a credible threat, he advanced further into the room, disgusted by the knife's edge of chaos they all suddenly found themselves teetering precariously on.

"That depends on who's asking." Bruenor bristled, lowering his weapon.

"Ah," Gaius nodded, stepping between the men. "May I present Lord Devon, First Commander of the Royal Order…"

"And Guard of Kings." Cal deadpanned. "Cador Pendragon. In the flesh."

Choking down a laugh as the old man rattled off a styling he hadn't used since he'd become a knight of the realm, he raised his brow in challenge to the lighter haired knight. Not surprisingly the invitation to continue his opinion went unanswered.

"Now that we've got pleasantries out of the way." Cador turned to the darker haired man, watching him with far more interest than he was comfortable. "Sir Breunor, is it? I suggest you put that away, or I'll make you use it." Cador nodded to the blade now resting against larger man's leg.

"I believe they were on a reconnaissance mission when a pack of Direwolves attacked them," Gaius sighed, raising his brow at the northerner cursing under his breath as he sheathed his blade.

"Direwolves." Cador paced in a circle trying to recall all he'd learned of the loathsome creatures in his tutoring lessons years prior. "Mab. Damn it" he cursed. The enchantment could keep the soldiers themselves out of Cerniw, but a wolf, like any other animal, magical or not, would not even see the barrier, and could easily pass through it.

"There's no evidence to suggest Vortigern's Queen took cubs with her."

"There's no evidence to suggest it's a terrible habit that twists your tongue to give Uther some unfathomable benefit of the doubt he hardly deserves, solely for the comfort of his son's feelings, either. And yet here we are." He argued, feeling at least some of the annoyance that had plagued both Merlin and Arthur the last days.

"Every kingdom in these lands knows Uther kept that dragon under his castle to protect himself from those wolves should Mab return."

"Aye. Uther used it as leverage when all the kingdom got angry about his senseless slaughter, offering them the protection of the beast he spared if they followed his edicts," Cal added, with a nod.

"Uther had no control over the dragon, he's not a lord," Gaius responded sharply. "He could no more compel Kilgharrah to protect any kingdom in these lands than I could, let alone pick and choose."

"And a dragons compulsion to fight the wolves is second only to the command of their lords. I needn't remind anyone his attempt to remove all but himself and his son with any claim to such a bloodline."

"Poppycock," Gaius hissed, scandalized by the notion.

"Is it?"

"Yes, and I should think this is hardly the time or place to debate such nonsense. I've conceded it's possible Mab has returned to these lands to Arthur. Though there is no proof, and I prefer to rely on facts."

"Facts are a funny business, mainly when they can be proven false. If the wolves are in the south, so is she and she doesn't just have her eyes on Camelot. I assume the dragon was involved in this attack?"

"Killed the lot of them, old codger from the tavern followed us here to report the sighting." Bruenor nodded. "Fool King seemed more concerned about the dragon than the wolves."

"Arthur gathers his men as we speak, to hunt it."

"Surely not with Mab's pack traipsing these lands?" Bruenor turned to Gaius, shaking his head in disbelief as the old man nodded.

"If he is, he most certainly isn't looking at it that way." Gaius snapped.

"No, he probably isn't" Cador agreed. "He's only thinking of his damn self. Where does Merlin meet with the dragon?"

"You'd ask me to reveal such, in front of these men?" Gaius whispered, turning his back to the foreign knights. "Need I remind you Andred is no friend of Merlin's. These men can't be trusted."

"Neither can Arthur should he stumble upon Merlin holding court with his dragon. Which is what will happen if I don't get there first to warn him."

"What about Uwain?" Bruenor asked impatiently as Gaius quietly revealed the location of the small clearing beyond Camelot's gates. "We had an agreement, old man."

"An agreement?" Cador raised his eye curiously.

"Ector will enter Camelot to heal him; once the spell is cast, they'll take the boy and leave peacefully."

"You can't do it yourself?"

"When you don't use a skill for twenty-five years, it atrophies."

"Ahh. Well until this crisis is averted no-one is crossing into Camelot, which means you either need Merlin to perform the magic himself or, correct me if I'm wrong, a dead wolf to make anti-venom. Which at this point, only his dragon can safely get us."

"You can't mean to let them near Merlin. It's too dangerous; As his guardian I forbid it."

"It's not up to you, Gaius." Cador shook his head, ignoring the affronted look on the older man's face, he'd now elicited twice this morn. He got no pleasure overruling the man, but as a matter of state, in Merlin's absence, this was his call.

"The best option for both of our goals is a temporary truce, so I'll offer it, because one way or another you will need Merlin's help to save his life, and I may well need your swords in his defense. Though I warn you, should you cross me, I will personally deliver that boys bones to Dyfed, with tens of thousands at my back."

"And once this Merlin, Ambrosius I gather, is safe, what guarantee do we have he will assist us? Should Uwain perish, he is next in line for the throne. Is he not?"

"I suppose, as a matter of technicality, however, to my knowledge he has no aspirations in the north no matter Andred's paranoia. I would not make such an offer if I were not certain of his character."

"Should Uwain become threatened, in any way, by anyone, including Balinor's son, can we expect your sword in his defense? Even if it amounts to treason?" Cal asked, tilting his head as if the answer was in doubt.

"I'll not commit treason against my King nor my Kingdom. I'm confident saying he means this boy no harm, so I have no problem pledging my blade to his defense under these circumstances. Should you turn on him once Uwain is out of danger, then you make him your enemy at your peril, and my previous statement stands. I'll kill the boy myself, and it'll be war."

"So be it. In this limited set of circumstances, so long as he keeps your bargain, stays his focus in the south, and makes no move against us. Then yes, he has my blade." Cal agreed.

"And mine." Bruenor nodded, not looking at all happy about the situation, but determined to see it through. "But, if he turns on us, I'll kill the boy myself, and it'll be war."

"So be it." He snorted in amusement, calling behind his shoulder as opened the door. "If you've got armor, I suggest you put it on. We might need it."

---

"My father is with Hunith and the servant, but there's no sign of the others." Leon jogged to his courser, shaking his head apprehensively.

"Where well the hell are they?" Arthur seethed, looking at the rest of his men, all gathered and ready to depart.

"GEORGE!"

"Sire?"

"Where are they?"

"I've been unable to locate them, Sire. But I assure you, we will find them in short order. Shall I go check..."

"I don't care what you do so long as you don't return until you've found them."

"Of course, Sire."

"NOW!"

He was going to throw Cador in the stocks for this, and he didn't give a damn if Merlin didn't like it. Hell's he'd stand outside and toss fruit at the blasted man's smarmy face while the raven-haired idiot watched.

"It's just Gaius and his patient in his chambers." Percival chimed in, "No sign of any of them, nor the northerners who showed up with the boy. Gaius didn't seem to know their whereabouts either."

"What of Merlin?"

"No sign of him, or Galahad either."

"Gwaine?"

"The horses are still in the stables, so they haven't gone far. But there was a case in the back of those strangers' cart large enough to store armor, and it's now open and empty."

"We knew it was possible they were knights of another realm," Leon added.

"Yeah, but where are they now, and what are they up to?" Arthur couldn't leave strange knights running around the kingdom any more than he could Merlin. With the charcoal curtain beginning to part amber would soon peek above the horizon. His time was limited if he wanted to depart without falling under the scrutiny of his already churlish court.

"Arthur!" Gwaine pointed out to the forest beyond them, a pale orange glow taking shape as dark grey smoke billowed above it.

"FIRE!" Arthur yelled, clicking his tongue as he prodded the courser into a cantor. Behind him, the warning bells sounded prompting scores of men carrying pots, bowls, and buckets to pour from their homes toward the wells to lend their hand to the effort. It had been a warm, dry spring, more so than usual, which meant plenty of brush was available to fuel a fire, if not contained quickly. The curtain wall would provide some protection to the citadel, but embers carried on the wind could easily set the lower town alight.

A cold, wet droplet, hit his face, startling him as another smacked his hand. Holding his breath, Arthur looked to the heavens where moments ago he could have sworn the sky was clear and laughed as the crystal-clear water fell on his skin.

"Stroke of luck," Gwaine grinned beside him, holding his hand out, as the water began to fall faster, each drop quenching the dry soil beyond them. Behind him a cheer, as his people celebrated the heavenly watering of their homes, making their ability to burn that much harder.

"We'll leave the horses at the Barbican, pull water from the creek to put out anything we find smoldering," Arthur yelled over the roar of the rain that now poured upon them. Beside him, Percival and Leon nodded, bringing their destriers to a trot as the gate opened in front of them. Thankfully the primary location of the fire looked to have snuffed out quickly by the unexpected downpour, though they still needed to worry about hotspots in the thick underbrush.

"Spread out," Arthur called to his men, handing them shovels as they left the gates into the brush beyond it.

"What about you?" Gwaine yelled, removing his soaked cape storing it in the sack attached to his animal.

"I want to know what started it." He yelled back, doing the same, before making his way beyond the gates towards the far end of the canopy.

"I'm with you." Gwaine hollered. Nodding, he kicked a broken branch, stomping out the faint glow still emanating from it. Behind him Leon and Percival scooped dirt, tossing it upon a still smoking log, depriving it of the air it needed to burn. Slowly they made their way through the brush, putting out small smokers, as they went, though admittedly they were few and far between.

"Arthur, stop. Don't move."

Halted by the cadence of Merlin's, his eyes finally landed on the wet, and filthy man, still wearing his nightshirt.

"Where the hell have you been and what the hell are you doing out here?" He demanded, stepping towards the man.

"Stop!" Merlin screamed as the king felt something plow into him, knocking him on his side. The air knocked from his lungs, Arthur nearly fought, realizing only at the last second Cador was on top of him, blade pointed up as a large creature careened over their heads.

"What the hell was that?" Arthur gasped, struggling to recover from the unexpected impact, and the weight of his cousin's body still splayed on top of his.

"Direwolves." Cador hissed, stock still as his eyes darted in every direction. "We're all surrounded, don't move."

"You just saved my life."

"Don't make me regret it. Shut up."

Biting back the urge to respond, he did as asked, the seriousness of the situation underscored by Cador's left arm twisted unnaturally beneath Arthur's pauldron. Despite the incredible pain the man had to be in, he didn't so much as twitch which determined Arthur not to jostle him further, especially for the sake of getting the last word. Small twigs breaking around them clued him into the beast's continued presence, though eventually, the sound moved away from them and the area fell silent.

"Never seen any wolf like that before" Gwaine hissed, after a few minutes with no movement. Arthur heaved a sigh of relief to see his men grouped, swords at the ready, each scanning their surroundings.

"I know you royals aren't accustomed to following orders, but next time someone tells you not move, do all us a favor, and don't damn move." Bruenor inched around a tree to face them. "You damn near got us all killed."

"You have some explaining to do" Arthur whispered in his cousin's face.

"Not really," Cador winked before rolling off him with a grunt, jumping to his feet and offering Arthur his right hand.

"You alright?" Arthur nodded to the man's left arm now held against his stomach protectively, as he came to his feet.

"I'll live."

"Can you use it?"

"It's not broken." He answered curtly, flexing his fingers, wincing with the movement. "I'll survive a few bruises. Come on; we only have a moment to regroup or get the hell out of here."

"I vote for the latter," Cal stepped out into the brush, eyes darting each direction as he followed his comrade.

"What the hell are they doing here?"

"You want to discuss this now?"

"I don't need the fine details."

"Temporary alliance," Cador called behind his shoulder. "But don't mistake them for allies. Their regent tried to have Merlin killed as a child. Once their little prince is off Gaius's table, they can't be trusted."

"He's a Prince?" Arthur nearly stopped his forward motion at that revelation, kept moving only by the desire to keep up with Cador, and his men, in front of him.

"Uwain Adhan. Don't fancy they're allies of Camelot, either, so be cautious."

Damn it. Now Dyfed was involved in this mess. The revelation they were no more friends to Merlin than to him, was an unexpected development that just highlighted how much his father and court had failed to inform him.

"Where is Merlin?" His eyes darted to the place the man had stood only moments before.

"Ran off to distract them in the other direction, I'd imagine."

"He what?" Arthur hissed.

"He's pulled that little stunt twice now, and when this is over, I'm going stick my boot up his boney little arse," Cador grunted, twisting his body around a mangled tree branch, blocking his path.

"Say it ain't so," Arthur snorted. "Cador Pendragon, finally catching on."

"There's a clearing just beyond those trees, if we can make our way to it, we can make a stand, there," Leon called out.

"Assuming they'll come out of the trees," Cador responded dryly.

"And what of all my men under the canopy still? Merlin's under the canopy still." Arthur asked.

"Nah, I'm behind you," the warlock arched his brow as both he and Cador rounded on him. "And nobody is getting their boot anywhere near my arse; I'll thank you very much."

"How the hell?"

"Later."

"Maybe you should get in front of me, so I know you don't run off and do anything stupid."

"Me?" Merlin clicked his tongue in mock protest before resuming a jog toward the breaking tree line in front of them.

Arthur nearly bit through his lip to avoid laughing as an exasperated Cador shook his head at the boy and followed.

Within minutes the group emerged from the forest into the broad field they'd once fought the dragon.

"Where's Galahad?"

"With Hunith and Lucan," Cador lied, wiping the wet hair from his face, as the rain continued to pour around them.

"They're with my father; I didn't see him at all." Leon countered, raising his brow at the man.

"So perhaps he wasn't in the room at the time."

"Leave it." Merlin murmured, distracted as he turned from the group, focusing his eyes on the wooded area in front of, and behind them. "They're coming."

"I thought they were nocturnal creatures? The sun is coming up."

"Not when they're hunting." Cador nodded toward the brush behind them, where five of the wolves stepped out in the field.

"Six more over here," Cal bit out, through clenched teeth.

"They mean to surround us." Gwaine flexed his sword and faced the beasts stalking closer to the position they'd taken in the center of the clearing.

"Now what?" Arthur swung his blade around his shoulder, moving into a fighting stance.

"Only eleven, now," Cador added.

"Only?"

"There were twenty, before."

"How'd you dwindle their numbers?"

"I didn't. My guess is the rest of the pack is waiting behind the brush as a second line of attack."

"Form a circle, Merlin; you're the only one without a blade. You get in the middle." To Arthur's surprise, the former servant didn't argue.

"You look like hell, Merlin. You alright?" Gwaine asked over his shoulder, focusing Arthur's attention to the state of his friend, whose nearly shredded nightshirt now clung like a muddy glove to his lean form.

"I've had better days."

Something was off. Never had Merlin appeared to be weighed so profoundly by a burden. If Merlin expected to lead a nation, it was something he would have to get used to, but in this instance, the load was his and his alone to bare. Arthur wasn't even sure why Merlin was out here in the first place. Not that he wouldn't have drug the man here, given the opportunity. Arthur hated to admit it, but he'd grown to rely upon the annoying bursts of optimism and its absence, now, was unnerving.

"Are we just going to stand here until they attack us?" Percival asked.

"Little further." Merlin murmured now hyper-focused on the horse-sized creatures as they slowly inched forward. Arthur had never seen him in such a state, and truth be told it was getting under his skin. Looking to the three men who had not sworn fealty to him, he couldn't help but notice they were not looking at the threat; instead, their eyes were on Merlin as if they awaited his command. Glancing at his men, he could see they were all disconcerted by it — the dawning fear in Leon's eyes, rattled him, as he watched the former servant apprehensively.

"Leon?"

His first knight didn't respond, his face twisting as he appeared to be caught up in an internal battle that Arthur feared to know. He'd never seen the man look so torn.

"He means to call the dragon into battle." Leon broke his silence looking between the two men who held his loyalty and regard.

"Merlin?" Gwaine scoffed. "Come on fella's, no need to fall into hysterics."

"He's a dragonlord Gwaine. I know nobody wants to come to hear that, but you can't ignore it. He's luring them out away from the foliage and using us as bait to do it."

"Swords don't hurt them. How do you think we're going to fight these creatures?" Cador crossed in front of Merlin, addressing Leon, who now looked like he was going to throw up.

The vibrating hum of the wolves growling grew close enough to hear through the pounding rain, which only added to the tension. Though Arthur barely heard it, his eyes locked on the bright blue sea of regret swimming in his best friends' eyes. Arthur held his breath, not wanting to admit to himself what was about to happen, despite the lack of denial as Merlin turned his eyes toward the brightening sky. A mighty roar and Leon's shout simultaneously filled his ears as chaos broke around him. Still, Arthur stood frozen, as his eyes followed the gaze of the man he'd trusted above all others. He could do little more than watch, in shock, as the giant beast of nightmares, who had destroyed so much and killed so many only a few years prior opened his giant maw and filled the clearing with flame.

Notes:

Hi, a couple things. 1. A courser and a destrier are a type of horse. 2. As a reminder, Cador is Uther's younger brother's son. Technically he is, himself, a Prince of Camelot, though he'd be third in line for the throne, after his father. His father, who lives in Cerniw, is a Duke of Devon, a made-up place, with a hat tip to Devonshire, which is geographically in the same area where my made-up kingdom of Cerniw, is located. It's a large settlement. However, Cador doesn't inherit the title until his father's death. So I researched what the actual styling would be. The Knight titles, I made up. I'm not British, so if I mucked it up. Sorry.

Hope everyone had a wonderful holiday. Onwards

Chapter 19

Arthur barely felt the claw of the massive wolf scrape across his arm, though he knew by the spray of blood into the air that it had. He tried to avert his eyes from the carnage in front of him, knowing he'd see this horror in his dreams. Probably forever. But he couldn't. The world slowed, and all sound ceased as they fell. Lower the large teeth sank into the expensive cloth his wife had sewn out of love and admiration for the man they had both loved like a brother. Above them Arthur could see the blades, four of them, now attacking the creature, whose pale pink eyes bore into him, even as it ripped through the flesh of another. With a thud, his body recoiled from the ground, only to be slammed back into the hard dirt by the weight of the dragonlord atop him. Cador's wild and desperate eyes above the beast, furiously hacking at its neck could not save them, so he closed his eyes, bracing himself for the weight of the enormous animal to crush them. It never did.

His stomach lurched as time resumed, bile reaching the back of his throat, the roar of battle assaulted him once more. He squinted, partially opening his eyes, watching in fascination as the loathsome creature lifted into the air away from them. His intrigue was quickly replaced by dread as he dared to glance to his right, sure he'd finally see the horrifying glow of magic in Merlin's eyes. No other explanation seemed logical. But he didn't. Less rational was his relief at finding the beast clutched in the sharp talons of a white dragon almost half its size. In the grand scheme of things, that turn events wasn't much better. Was it? Surely if Merlin had magic, he'd have used it then, wouldn't he? It defied reason the man would rather die than use it if he could. But Merlin hadn't. What did that mean, he wondered to himself, continuing the war he'd been waging in his head for an hour now, even as they battled the foul beasts for just as long.

Above them, Cador screamed an obscenity, throwing himself toward them, though Arthur's eyes still struggled to leave the man who had stood beside him through everything. The same man who had just made him a fool in front of his kingdom. Now curling in on himself grunting in pain Merlin rolled over and off him. Alive then.

Swatting Leon and Percival away as they made to drag him from the current onslaught, he pulled himself to his feet, his arm dangling by his side. He could feel the blood rushing down his fingers, but he didn't care. Not anymore. He looked back to Merlin, cradling his arm, half bent in pain, eyes wild in the throes of suffering and didn't envy him. He'd taken that wound for him and would likely die as a result. Arthur wasn't sure how he felt about it. That realization brought the bile back to his mouth, as his gut twisted in agony; Choking down the sick sitting at the back of his throat he surveyed the scene, refusing once again to be distracted by it all.

The perimeter they'd defended had thankfully been made larger throughout the battle, owing some to the dragons that made quick work of the creatures straying too far into the clearing. The smaller dragon, he'd not even known had existed, was able to get closer to the men than its larger counterpart, picking up the wolves one by one. Still, they kept coming from the trees in a never-ending stream of horror. His stomach lurched again as he realized the small dragon had never gotten as close to them as it had just done, pulling the creature from atop them. Was that owing to its allegiance to Merlin? Just how far had the Old Religion defiled the man's soul? Could he be cleansed of its revolting influence and saved, or was it too late?

In front of him Bruenor and Cal, Dyfed's knights, both battered, bruised and bleeding sliced at the new barrage of wolves, attempting to drive them back far enough for the white dragon to reach them. It had been their game plan since the small creature had shocked them with its presence since it provided closer cover than the great dragon, now knocking down trees indiscriminately as it targeted the rest of the wolves still under the canopy. He wasn't sure how he felt about that, either, as his eyes surveyed the damage the beast wrought, weighing it against their current circumstances. He could only be grateful for the continued downpour that kept the foliage from lighting, even as it made their footing and grip more challenging. Battling together with the dragons, he snorted ruefully. He had never failed or dishonored his father more than he had, on this day. Merlin's fault, he thought to himself in an unsuccessful attempt to make himself feel better about it all.

"If we're going to go down, we'll go down fighting," Gwaine screamed, launching himself back into the frenzy.

Arthur smirked in response, honored the man would repeat his words from their first official battle together. Still, he found himself unable to move, nauseous and dizzy, he fought to stay on his feet. Probably from the blood loss, he sighed, glancing down at the small puddle at his feet, diluted by the rain, but plentiful enough to remain red. Merlin had tried to save his life, but it all likelihood it was in vain. The effort had probably cost him his own. Hard to hold that against him, he supposed.

"Get back" Cador appeared in his face, pushing at his chest hard enough to send him tumbling backward.

"What the hell?"

"Just do it," Cador commanded, as he realized his cousin had Merlin's uninjured arm draped around his shoulders as he dragged them both to a blackened stump behind them. Gingerly placing his charge against the charred wood, he pulled off his plackart, tossing the heavy breastplate on the muddy soil beneath their feet.

"Are you crazy?" Arthur asked as Merlin protested. Almost relieved by the litany of insults spewing from the incorrigible former servant's mouth because it provided him a moment's respite. A familiar sense of normality he feared he'd never experience again. Maybe his Merlin was still in there after all.

"Are you done?" Cador hissed in Merlin's face, ignoring the insults as he used his knife to rip into his gambeson, Tearing the thick material into strips.

"Leave me," Merlin commanded fruitlessly, shaking the man away as he used the material to tie a tourniquet around the man's leg, then arm. "Not a chance." Cador shot back with a grin as he climbed over his King and roughly tied the cloth around Arthur's injured arm.

"That was stupid." Arthur demurred, nodding toward the armor lying at his feet.

"At least I'm trying." Cador snapped, roughly dropping his injured arm by his side once more. And here Arthur had thought they had made a little progress. Ignoring his ire, he glanced over Cador's shoulder watching as the men were driven back by another onslaught of wolves. Probably the most intense surge they'd experienced thus far. Just how many packs were they dealing with, anyway?

"Look out!' Arthur yelled, as three of the beasts took to the air soaring over the knight's heads, and towards them.

Reaching for the sword, he was sure he had dropped and wouldn't be able to swing anyway, his breath hitched. Cador's weapon at his feet, he'd have no time to reclaim it, and no armor to deflect the razor-sharp teeth and claws now hurling toward them. The charred log at their back prevented a retreat, leaving the three of them cornered, and weaponless.

"For the love of Camelot," He screamed, almost grateful his death would not be slow. Beside him Cador's eye's widened, his arms swinging towards the imbecile who had managed to pull himself from the ground and launch himself into the air by pushing off from Cador's shoulder. The action sent his cousin careening into Arthur's already injured arm. Grunting they both hit the ground, helpless as Merlin dove toward the creatures, arms outstretched, and roared a sound unlike any he'd heard before. Loud enough to be heard over the chaos, or had the battle just ceased? He couldn't be sure as a great shudder rippled through the earth sending all the men to the floor as they lost their footing. He eyes widened as his ears rang, almost becoming painful his body lurched forward the sensation of suction pulling him into a massive vortex terrifying him. Taught like a bowstring, the air thinned, and then it stopped. With a jolt, Arthur's ears popped as the pressure released flinging them all backward. Grunting as his head snapped back, he watched in fear and amazement as Merlin was tossed like a ragdoll over their heads, landing with a sickening crack several meters behind them.

Stunned by the scene before him, Arthur felt, rather than saw, Cador crawl over him, while he and the rest of the men sat motionless, unable to process the absolute destruction now becoming visible as an enormous dust cloud began to settle in front of them. The small forest, they'd been battling at first to save from flame, and then escape the wolves, was now gone — a flattened wasteland left in its place.

"Kilgharrah!" Cador's voice, nearly hysterical, echoed around him as he watched the man stumbling over giant clumps of now upturned earth frantically dragging Merlin's limp body toward the center of the decimated field.

"Merlin!" Gwaine yelled fearfully as the giant dragon roared, diving towards the two men.

Dropping Merlin's body Cador stumbled back, falling to the ground, he resorted to inching himself away from the battered body on his back with his elbows, his eyes focused on the enormous dragon as it landed only meters in front of them. Biting back a gasp, Arthur watched as the dragon opened its jaw shooting an ethereal blue flame, unlike any he'd ever seen before, over Merlin's body. Within seconds the smaller creature joined its counterpart, expelling a gold mist from its maw into the unnatural inferno.

Was this the equivalent of a pyre, he wondered? Oddly detached from the scene playing out in front of him.

"Gwaine!" Percival called out as the rogue knight rushed forward, only to be stopped by Cador, who scrambled to his feet and barreled into the knight, wrapping his arms around the man's middle pushing him away from the horrible scene. He'd meant to order Gwaine back, to let Cador deal with the body but he found he could not speak. He could only watch as the cerulean flame revolved around the man he'd loved like a brother. It had taken just seconds for the two strangers came to Cador's aid, unsurprising since the temporary alliance seemed to be with the knight, rather than any nation. Still, he quirked his brow as they pulled their blades on Percival and Leon preventing their attempt to tear the two quarreling men apart. That feat finally managed as the dragon abruptly spread its wings and took flight. Arthur scarcely breathed as his eyes followed Merlin's limp body, clutched tightly in the talons of the great dragon, as it banked over the forest. Well, what was the forest, before it'd been razed entirely to the ground, leaving visible the corpses of the many wolves left untouched by their fire.

"Is he dead?" Leon finally asked as Cador lifted his head from the dirt and wiped his mouth. A puddle of sick below him. Rolling onto his back Cerniw's knight shook his head in the negative as he tried to catch his breath, his eyes on the retreating beasts.

"How do you know?" Percival murmured, as he watched the dragons, now barely a speck in the morning sky, disappear over the black peaks, made more prominent by the absence of trees that had once obscured their view.

The dragon hadn't burned Merlin's body to ash as was customary in dragon lord culture. Arthur opened his mouth to share that little bit of knowledge he'd read in the tomes Geoffrey had provided. Instead, he stared at his cousin, torn over what he was supposed to do now. The words of his father, spoken in a long-forgotten memory he'd only recalled hours ago reverberated in his mind. As he opened his mouth to speak, he found the only words he could muster were, "Arrest him."

---

"Your Grace."

"Galahad." Constans nodded, slowly making his way into the solar, now, at least partially, occupied by his nephew. Balinor was as much his brother as Uther, and thus none would tell him otherwise what the boy was to him even if technically they were cousins, once removed. The last time he'd laid his eyes on Merlin he'd been about fourteen winters. Of course, Merlin hadn't know who he was at the time, and his penchant at asking questions had ended their interactions, but Constans had treasured every minute he'd gotten.

His decision to take residence at his Devon Estate half a day's ride to the west had prevented him from being here when Merlin arrived days hence, and he'd been waiting anxiously to see him come through that door, since.

"Niv." He nodded to the young woman he was supposed to acknowledge as a Princess and Regent. Even after all these years, he struggled with both. Instead, he fell back on the nickname she'd used as a child, which was more comfortable for him.

"My Lord," she replied, her voice restrained as she followed him into the ante-chamber once reserved for the Queen's maid. Not that Hunith had used it as such. It seemed her son had begun to position the room for his use. Considering what the room contained, it only made sense.

"You know of the door," she asked quietly, as she followed his gaze to the oak slab in the center of the room.

"Don't ask me questions you know the answer to," he sighed, still fuming she knew of the door at all, a circumstance he'd already given Ector a piece of his mind over.

"If you're hoping I can open it, I assure you, I cannot. And even if I could, which, again, I cannot, I wouldn't do so without Merlin's permission."

"Your son is trapped on the other side of that wall."

"My son is a grown man who can more than handle himself, and so is Merlin for that matter. You're certain Arthur knows of the door?" He looked toward Galahad, who appeared almost as annoyed by this impromptu meeting as he was.

"I never said that. I only repeated what I saw."

"Care to do it again?"

"There was a minor skirmish, Cador waved me back before Arthur stepped onto the landing, and he shook his head at me through the shimmer while they argued. Then Arthur slammed it closed." Galahad shrugged.

"Did it look like they were arguing about the door, itself?"

"I didn't get that sense, no."

"I thought you said Cador had his sword to Arthur's throat." Niviane huffed.

"He did."

"And you call that a minor skirmish?"

"Men with swords, when startled, pull them, my lady. They stood down as soon as Arthur realized who was opposite him."

"Sounds to me like Arthur has no idea what that door is. He slammed a closet door shut as he and my son exchanged words, nothing more." Constans reasserted himself, irritated by the interrogation from someone this did not even concern.

"Yes." Galahad agreed.

"How could you come to such a far-fetched conclusion," Niviane asked, crossing her arms across her light blue bodice sternly.

"Because I know my son. Cador motioned Galahad to retreat which means he wanted to preserve the status quo."

"That doesn't explain why Merlin has yet to re-open it."

"It's not yet been three hours, and the sun just rose; This is not a crisis, Merlin will open it when he can, until then we'll just wait."

"You don't think he should travel by regular means?

"And how would he explain his arrival when to Arthur's knowledge he never departed, Niviane?"

"When did we start caring what Arthur thinks?"

"I can no longer tell if you're trying too hard to prove yourself, or just being obstinate," the elder Pendragon snapped, raising his voice and his brow in exasperation. "If you don't understand why that matters, you only strengthen my position."

"He's hunting the dragon, that alone merits a response." Niviane snapped back.

"You forget yourself, child. If Merlin feels a response is appropriate, he'll damn well do it himself."

"The Duke is right, my lady. Merlin has this well in hand and will not appreciate interference. We wait."

"So be it, we shall wait then," Niviane replied, vexed she'd been countered but determined the last word would be hers. He didn't give a damn. It changed nothing. She was out of line and had been ever since Merlin arrived through the blasted door, and she'd realized her influence had significantly diminished as a result.

Nodding at Galahad to follow him, Constans departed the large chambers, not bothering with pleasantries. No longer would he entertain her fantasy, and if their relationship suffered the result, so be it.

"What of the boy?"

"Don't let him hear you call him that, my lord. He's a good man, but a grown one and not shy with his opinion."

"That runs in the family," Constans chuckled, eliciting a snort from the younger knight.

"Cador has spent more time with him than I, he'd be able to tell you more personal details, but I've seen enough to know I'll recognize no regent."

"Aye," Constans grunted his agreement, still infuriated by the gall of the young woman they'd just departed. "And what of Arthur?"

"He's an enigma. Their relationship is odd. I think there is some genuine care there, but only to a point. When it comes to Uther, all bets are off between them. Arthur has great reverence for his father and follows his beliefs."

"Well, we knew that," Constans nodded, not for the first time regretting his departure from Camelot's courted prevented any attempt to shield the child. What's done was done, he shook himself out of the thought, pushing past the familiar sting of regret he'd battled to silence for decades.

Stepping out into the early morning sun, he shielded his eyes, nodding in greeting to Lady Murdoch, and Lady Tennor, both out on their morning stroll in the square. Filling his lungs with the clear, crisp air, still dampened by the dew he watched as the people began their day, setting up their stalls along the inner bailey, many displaying the colors or crest of their King whose return they still celebrated. Within moments the first tuft of black smoke rose into the air as the forge, and thus, the kingdom opened for business.

"My Lord, the dragon's approach," Galahad nodded toward the rapidly moving creature in the northern sky, inching closer by the second. Soon the entire inner ward turned to whispers and then cheering as the people turned their gaze upward — tales of the dragon's fantastic display and Merlin's arrival escaping their lips. The mark of loyalty in their skies had stunned him, prompting his, and every other member of the peerage to return to the grand castle. Lords and citizens, alike, from the further settlements, still arrived by the day.

But this approach was much different from the previous. Kilgharrah was flying lower, faster, and with purpose, one of its giant legs extended unnaturally. Pushing past the fear that slithered up his spine, he turned toward the people, now gathering in the center of the square for a glimpse.

"He means to land, disperse," He yelled over the volume of their excited voices, physically pushing several people back, with hopes the mass would follow. The dragons had only ever landed in the courtyard as a matter of emergency, so even as a child, it had been rare. Still, more than a generation had passed since the event had occurred, leaving so many here, now, with no idea what was about to happen.

Soon the battlements were full as the castle emptied, each drawn to the mighty roar leaving the great dragon's maw as it banked toward them. Finally realizing the dragon's intentions people began to scream, running to the edges of the outer wall, looking over their shoulders in disbelief. Constans breathe hitched, gasping to fill his now emptied lungs with air, as his eyes locked on the dragon's foot, and the limp form clutched within it. Constans heart plummeted.

"Ector!" He screamed, tearing towards the castle steps, scanning the battlements for the physician while barking orders to any knight or guard within earshot to bring a stretcher and the physician. The warning bells, now clanging in the background startled the crowd into silence in front of him. Niviane finally appeared next to him, watching the dragon curiously as it heaved its giant wings, preparing to land. A horrified silence fell over the castle, as they began to comprehend what, or rather, who, the dragon carried. The silence broke as Galahad rushed forward screaming the King's name.

"Pendragon," Kilgharrah spoke, as three of its legs contacted the ground, carefully opening the fourth, revealing the broken body of Balinor's son. To his great relief, Ector and several members of the knight's highest ranks surged forward, assisting Galahad by gently lifting Merlin onto a stretcher. Within seconds they were gone, disappearing into the castle.

"What happened?" He finally found his voice, visibly shaken by the sight of the young man, whose muddy, blood-soaked clothing hung shredded from his body, revealing wounds no man had any right to survive.

"Dire wolves roam these lands. I've healed the young warlock of the poisonous bite and restored the flesh and tissue, but I cannot reset the bones."

"A pack attacked him?"

"Nearly a hundred swarmed them, and I sense many more lying in wait, even as we speak."

"What of the coasts?" Constans paled, trying to imagine that horror, knowing his son and heir would have been in the fray by Merlin's side.

"An embarrassment and affront to your ancestors. Vigilance must be restored."

"In short order, I assure you."

"Let us hope that is true. I will join Aithusa and do what I can."

"I appreciate that." Constans nodded, embarrassed and infuriated once again over the state of affairs since Balinor's death.

"What of Camelot?" Constans asked, his mind reeling as he'd recognized the threat. Merlin had indicated Saxon's interest in the mount, though he was pretty sure a patrol had yet to be dispatched. Something he would rectify immediately.

"Significantly damaged." The great dragon replied, the deep timbre of his voice suddenly lined with amusement,

"From dire wolves?"

"From Merlin," Kilgharrah chuckled. "But I fear his display of temper will not be without consequences."

"They rarely are," Constans agreed, wondering at the details. The Ravens would fly soon enough, and they would learn more. Whatever the consequences he hoped it would stay the ambition of those who thought to test him, including Arthur.

"And the others?" His heart clenched at the thought of his son's unknown status.

"Young Cador was uninjured when I left him, but his situation now, I do not know."

Nodding, his understanding, he fought down the panic that threatened to overwhelm him. Stepping back as he unfurled his wings, the Kilgharrah looked around the courtyard, and bellowed, "The King Lives. Long Live the King," before departing into the sun.

Taking in the dragon's warnings, he clenched his hands into a fist, finding himself anxious for the first time in years. Balinor had worried about the coasts when the enchantment eventually fell. After his death, the court had considered it less of a priority than their internal squabbling as they positioned themselves in a bid for more power. As a parent, he understood why Hunith hadn't returned then, but as the Queen Mother and rightful regent for her son, she could have passed through the rock, and it was her duty to do so.

"What did he say?" Startled from his thoughts, the elder Pendragon turned to find Niviane watching him as Kilgharrah's parting phrase was repeated in chorus by the now hundreds of people around them.

"You didn't hear him?" He rushed past her interested by that development. If a dragon didn't want to be heard by an audience, he could magically create a barrier to prevent others from hearing. But Niv had ties to the creature through her heritage. He'd assumed she would have been immune. He almost lamented the fact she hadn't heard Kilgharrah's reprimand. Then again, preventing her participation was an insult in its own right — a large one at that.

"Outside of that last bit, no. Whatever Kilgharrah said to you, he made sure others could not listen."

"Interesting. Then it was not meant for your ears." Constans grunted, taking the steps to the citadel two at a time, cursing time and the extra weight he'd put on since he'd retired with slowing down his stride.

"I know you no longer support me as regent, why I'll never understand, and maybe someday I can forgive you for it. But as of now I still retain that title, and this Kingdom remains my responsibility, so I'm asking you to report."

"Did you send a patrol to the mount as Merlin asked?" He spun on her, his hold on his temper tenuous.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Did you or not?"

"Mark suggested I bring it to the council this morning and I agreed."

"You fool," Constans spat, turning from her before he gave her a piece of his mind.

"I answered your question; now I'll have my question answered."

Ignoring her query, he dodged the rush of foot traffic that now filled the corridors as people departed the main square.

"My Lord, Duke," she followed behind him, I gave you an order, and I'll see it obeyed."

"My Lady," he turned to face her, struggling to control his temper. "You are in no position to give me an order. You ignored a request from our king and endangered him, and this kingdom as a result. I've had enough of this sense of entitlement your fool family has instilled in you, and it ends now. Your participation in these events just ceased. That, my lady, is an order. Now if you'll excuse me." Constans huffed leaving the chastised young woman in his wake; he turned into the winding staircase to Ector's chambers, once again cursing age and pastries for the increased time it took him to reach his destination.

"What news?" He called out, breathlessly, as he entered the room, noticing several members of the King's Guard in the corner, watching on somberly.

"Thankfully nothing was shattered." Ector looked up from his table and nodded toward his patient. "There were two fractures in the spine, I've set the bones and fused them back together, the breaks were clean, so they'll heal and won't have any lasting impact — several cracked ribs, but none broken. I've wrapped them and the broken leg for now. Timbia has gone to get the herbs I need to mend those more delicate areas. Both of his arms were out of their sockets, I've put them back, but he'll hate life when he wakes up."

"Good Goddess. Will he live?"

"Hard to believe by the looks of him. But yes. He doesn't seem to have any internal injuries, owed I'm guessing to his dragon. I'm most concerned about the blood on the back of his head, but I can't find any abrasion or fracture. Either the blood isn't his, or Kilgharrah healed his skull, too. These though," Ector pointed to the several healing puncture wounds on the man's arm, leg, and stomach, "there's more on his back. It looks like something tried to take a giant bite out of him. What the hell happened?"

"They were swarmed by Dire Wolves. Kilgharrah said he healed the poison and restored his flesh and tissue."

"Dire wolves? In this land, now? With as powerful as he's said to be, he's lucky he's not dead."

"If he didn't have a dragon right there to heal him, he probably would be."

Ector grunted in agreement, "It's been a relatively quiet twenty-years, I suppose that's over now, isn't it."

"Count on it. Is there any way to wake him, or any reason he'd still be out?"

"I was worried of a head injury, but if the dragon healed his tissue, then that can't be it."

"He expended an awful lot of magic. Would that matter?"

"I suppose it would depend, he's unique even amongst his kind, but I wouldn't think it likely unless he expended a lot of it while the poison ran through his veins. Then, perhaps. How much magic did he do?"

"He razed part of Camelot to the ground. They have extensive damage."

"He did what?" Constans turned toward the door slack-jawed, his movement mirrored by the physician and every one of Merlin's King's Guard loitering in the room.

"He flattened the forest," Galahad shook his head and handed him the rolled piece of parchment.

"For leagues, they haven't been able to access all the damage yet, but the draw-bridge is damaged, part of the outer curtain as well."

"Long Live the King." Lamorak, third in command after Galahad, chuckled, followed by snorts and murmurs of agreement from his counterparts.

Biting his lip, Galahad toward his knight and shook his head. "As impressive as that is, Cador, Lady Hunith, and Lucan have been arrested. Manafort believes he's about to be, and they're conducting a manhunt for me."

"His father's son, then," Constans gripped the parchment tightly in his fist. "He says Arthur has significant injuries and the court is in chaos. And no, you shouldn't go," the elder commander raised his brow at the boy, knowing what he was considering. "You'll be arrested on sight and used as leverage against us. We need you here. As much as I hate to say it, our best course of action is to wait. Arthur is not stupid enough to harm a hair on their heads, especially after seeing what Merlin is capable. Merlin knows these people and what they're capable of far better than any of us. He is King. This is his call."

"We're just to leave them in the cells, prisoner?"

"Do you think he's going to leave his Mother in a cell to be used as leverage against him?"

"Not a chance."

"What's the quickest way into Camelot that you know of at the moment?"

"Ah." Galahad nodded turning to bark orders at the group of knights before turning to face the physician. "Ector, I need him awake and coherent and moved to his chambers. The sooner, the better."