They approached the citadel slowly. The guards took their weapons for safe keeping before the doors were heaved open slowly. Leon, Tor, and Morholt went in first, followed by Elyan and Percival, Gareth and Gaheris, and finally Fira between Gwaine and Galahad. She sensed magic inside.

Once they were inside and the doors shut, she saw a court sorcerer standing beside the King to his left. To his right was a knight no older than Gwaine and Percival. The group of newcomers all bowed deeply to the King.

“Who comes to Oxfordshire?” King Urien stood. “I recognize two of you. For you came through here a month ago.”

“When we passed through here, your highness, we spoke of our mission.” Tor stood high and gestured to the others. “We were seeking Camelot over a Prophecy that had to be fulfilled to stop the Green and Black Menace.”

“Indeed you did.” Urien stroked his beard. “And you think these knights can do it?”

Morholt instantly nodded. “Yes, sire. These are the finest knights of Camelot. The Knights of the Round Table.”

“It is an honor to meet you, sire,” Leon bowed again. “I am Sir Leon, First Knight of Camelot. I can vouch for all these men with me.”

The sorcerer spoke up. “What of the girl?” He walked slowly and carefully around the knights until he stood behind Fira. “Can you vouch for her?”

“With my life,” Leon assured the sorcerer and the king.

Fira didn't move as the man looked her up and down. “She's small, and quite young, for a sorceress.” He pushed her hair behind her ear. “A pretty face can hide dangerous power, in my experience.” He turned to King Urien and Sir Leon. “It was my understanding that Camelot made magic illegal. What is a girl with her power doing with the fiercest knights of that land?”

When Fira made no reaction, he continued on. “Or this one?” The sorcerer approached Galahad. “I sense something different about you.”

“I am a knight of Camelot of the highest order,” Galahad assured him and the King.

The sorcerer nodded slowly and without conviction. “Of course. A knight of Camelot. When have any of my kind been allowed to travel with your kind.” He pointed at Fira but directed his question to Sir Leon. “Our kind was slaughtered!”

King Urien held up his hand. “That is enough, Calvert. I was a friend of Uther Pendragon, and while I did not agree with his method of handling magic, I understood it.” He directed a question at Leon. “Still, my court sorcerer isn't wrong. Why do you travel in the company of this girl who has magic?”

Before Leon could answer, Fira stepped forward. She bowed deeply before the king and shot the sorcerer a glare. “King Urien, it is my honor to serve with these knights to protect the world from threats of a supernatural nature.” She looked at Tor for a moment. “The two of you spoke of a prophecy. You must understand that my traveling with them is fate, not favoritism.”

Urien paused. “I believe you. Fate is intertwined in many things these days.”

The court sorcerer, Calvert, backed away but she met his eyes. There was concern and anger in his eyes, perhaps a sense of betrayal in his heart. And she understood it, too. It was something she still felt. For though she understood Arthur’s reluctance to allow magic with Morgana running around, it made her cry inside to know her kind was being persecuted.

“You seek passage to Somerset?” Urien looked at Leon and Tor once again. “I grant it to you. On a single condition.”

Leon nodded. “Name it.”

“You take my son here with you back to Camelot when you return.” Urien gestured to the blonde man that stood next to him. “This is Yvain, the Lion Knight. He has done many great deeds for me and our kingdom. I ask you take him, as a gesture of goodwill to Arthur. For I have been remiss in my welcoming of the new King of Camelot.” He paused. “I also sense war is coming, and that Camelot will need all the help it can get.”

Leon looked at Yvain, startled by Urien’s premonition of war. He had learned not to discount such things. “We accept.”

“I will pay for your stay in the inn tonight.” Urien gestured with his hand and a servant brought forth much gold. “Take this, Sir Leon, as a gesture of our faith that you will help put an end to the Menace that spreads over these lands.”

Leon knelt before him and took the gold before standing. “We thank you, King Urien, for your generosity.”

Urien nodded and instructed two servants to take them to the inn. “See that the tavernkeep is well compensated.”

The group left the Citadel. The moon was high in the sky as they traipsed down the hill to the rest of the town. Fira followed at the back. She had no desire to stay in a tavern that night. She would've rather slept under the stars than in a stinking, smoke filled tavern.

Galahad was walking sadly. Leon pulled him aside and was quizzing him about what the sorcerer had said while they walked.

“I was born to a druid mother,” he said in hushed whispers. “She had inborn magic, some of which passed on to me.”

Leon looked at him, startled. “You have magic?”

“No.” Galahad shook his head vehemently. “Well, not like you know magic. I have a sixth sense, if you will. I can tell when magic is around.”

Leon looked at him, trying to gauge his honesty. Leon had never known Galahad to be anything but the most noble of them all.

“Might be useful.” He nodded at last.

“Oh it is.” Galahad smirked. “Unless it's a really powerful sorcerer who’s able to mask his power.”

Together the group entered the tavern. The two servants who had guided them placed payment on the bar for the tavern keeper. Then they bid farewell.

“Everyone know their pair?” Leon nodded to the group as they walked up the stairs to where their rooms were. “Fira? Do you want your own room. I know you don't like taverns.”

She smirked. “Please.”

“Galahad, go with Gwaine and Percival then,” Leon told the youngest knight.

Fira slipped into her room. She decided not to change yet, instead she sat on her bed and leaned against the open window. As she stuck her head out, it began to softly rain.

She spent an hour like this, letting the rain soak her head and hair. She changed into a nightgown, the dry clothing nice to the touch. Fira laid down to sleep, but found herself wracked with an all too familiar nightmare.

Though the unicorn had inhibited the nightly nightmares, they still occurred monthly. She had no Merlin to comfort her tonight, only herself. Fortunately in the past four months she had trained herself to cope. But when she woke a few hours later in the dead of night, she decided to walk down to the tavern area.

Her hair was still damp, and the rain was rushing hard against the wood and tin roof. She changed back into her riding tunic. As she went to walked down the stairs, she found Gwaine sitting at a table, all alone in the tavern. He was drinking something, but Fira didn't think it was alcohol.

“Gwaine?” Fira asked in surprise. “What are you doing up?”

He looked at her, a confused look on his face. “I could ask you the same.” He looked at her worn features and nodded. “Though I suppose I could guess.”

She shrugged, sliding into a seat opposite him. “Probably could.”

“Bar closed down an hour ago,” Gwaine told her. He gestured to his mug. “Water it is now.”

Fira smiled. “Water would do you some good, I'm sure.”

Gwaine made a comical face. “I'll do what I please, thank you very much!”

“Yes well...” Fira laughed lightly. “You should listen to your betters sometimes.”

“You're right there,” he said, taking a swig of his drink and pointing at her with a smirk. He made a face as he realized his drink was water. With a more somber expression he continued on. “Was it the same as always?”

Fira stiffened. “Mostly. Only Galahad was there this time. On the hill, I mean. And there was more fire, more smoke.” She sighed and leaned back. “Every time it happens I worry less about the immediate fear it causes me and more about the future implications of this. What if the dream is prophetic.”

“It isn't,” Gwaine insisted.

Fira nodded. “I hope you're right.”