Diarmuid made sure to take the potion Merlin gave him as instructed. He hadn't missed a dosage for an entire week and it was working, the burning sensation was no longer keeping him up at night, what was making him an insomniac were the nightmares that started a few days back. For some reason, one night, he'd begun having a reoccuring nightmare.

His sleepless nights were filled with cold sweat, lurking shadows, wilting flowers, and endless screams. He'd searched his mind over and over trying to find the problem, trying to find what was causing him to have such horrid dreams. He found nothing.

He opted to keep silent about it. He wasn't ready to tell anyone just yet, plus, he assured himself they would dissipate and leave him soon enough. It could just be the fact that he was tired, the overworking of his bones every day in practice, the potion subduing him from the pain in his shoulder; there were a number of explanations, nothing pointed to the supernatural or magic.

The sun was still young in the sky, the birds chirped as they did so every morning and Diarmuid laid in his bed, starring up at the wooden planks of the bunk above. His eyes threatened to shut and let him drift to sleep, but the nightmare telling his brain it wasn't such a bright idea. He shot up from the bed after gathering his energy; all he'd done all night was replay the mistakes in his life.

His fellow roommates were still fast asleep for it was their day off and they could sleep till noon if they wished. Diarmuid pushed himself off from the bed, reaching towards the cloth he hung up next to it in order to prepare himself for the day. After he gathered his clothes and shoved them into a satchel, he dragged his feet towards the door and made his way to the small part of the river that the knights were instructed to use. Personally, he preferred walking a bit more up stream for he was able to immerse himself in nature and the water was deeper.

The walk to the river brought a smile to his face. Since he needn't walk through the city, the serene and empty alleys eased his headache. When he reached the edge of the forest, he took a deep breath and entered, glad he was away from the noise and bustling streets. Upon arriving at the river, he set down his satchel and pulled out the cloth.

Undressing, save for his undergarments, he stepped into the thick river. The water was chilly to the touch, not quiet freezing but not exactly cool either. He let the water soothe his muscles, his eyes closing at the feeling of the rocks underneath his feet, the way the water rushed past him. He simply loved the river. The brand seemed to feel better under cool water and so he threw water over it between washing his face.

"You're as handsome as ever," he flinched at the voice, dipping his entire body underwater, save for his head, as he turned around. "You needn't hide from me, Dia. I already know every inch of you."

Diarmuid's jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed at the woman atop a boulder. "Youth," he all but hissed.

"It's so nice to see you too, how long has it been now?" She shifted, her white dress hiking to her calve. Her hair cascaded over her shoulder in crimson waves, like a river of flowers. Her hair was adorned with jewels, and her white dress was thin and made of fine silk. Her creamy skin looking delicate and soft, freckles not seeming anything close to an imperfection but rather made her face even more gorgeous.

He didn't reply to her question, feeling vulnerable in the water without his armour.

"Oh, pity, I've missed you so." She tilted her body, indicating to Diarmuid that she was about to stand.

"What do you want?" He eyes her movements carefully. "Why did you brand me? I am not some lamb that belongs to you."

Her feet sunk into the greenery as she shrugged. "I beg to differ," she hummed and took a step into the running water.

Diarmuid didn't budge, not even for a single second. "Your advances are unwelcomed, my lady," he stated, firmly.

"Those mages have rather strong magic. You do know how difficult it was to even get near Camelot? Much too tired to even speak of it," she huffed and sank deeper into the water, closer to him.

He glared at her, teeth clenched. "Why did you see the need to brand me?"

"Oh my love," she reached him and stretched her hand out to him, her voice as sweet as a love song, "you belonged to me the day you gave me your bed."

Her hand landed on his cheek and her thumb ran over his beauty mark. "You deserve better than her."

Diarmuid snatched her hand, as gently as he could when rage clouded his vision. "Don't touch me."

Her green eyes narrowed and she tried to shake him off but his grip was firm, and she couldn't help but clench her teeth. He'd never acted like that with her, he's always been as respectful as he could be. Diarmuid was a gentle man and to see him like this nearly frightened her. "Why have you changed so?"

"Changed?" He grit his teeth, "you continue to ruin my life no matter how far I run? Did my happiness ever concern you?"

She scoffed. "You think that this poor excuse of a king could make you happy, Diarmuid? Do you really think that? That you'll be happy if you follow Arthur to the ends of the earth?"

He stared at her and hesitantly let his grip from her wrist slip. He watched as she brought her hand towards herself and rubbed her wrist, easing the pain. Diarmuid flinched while the guilt washed over him, he momentarily contemplated apologizing, but he decided against it.

"Soon enough you'll see the true nature of the King, and only then you'll see that all I ever wanted was to make you happy."

"Happy?" Diarmuid scoffed, "if you so wanted me to be happy, you would've never cursed me. You would've never branded me. I am not your possession, Youth, I am my own man."

"All this is to protect you, Diarmuid, to protect you from the darkness. All I ever do is to protect you, but you never see it, do you. Arthur will be the death of you, and if the brand does not remain, I won't be able to protect you."

Diarmuid would admit it, Youth always knew what to say. "I don't believe you. After everything you've done, I don't think I can."

There was ruffling and Youth whipped her head towards the sound. "What the wizard gave you is mitigating the effects of the brand, causing you the nightmares. What you need is mint, it'll ease the pain but won't mitigate the spell's effect."

"Why should I trust you?" He glared at her, eying her as she stepped back, the rustling getting closer and now there was chatter heard.

Youth stared at him for a second. "Because I love you, and you know that."

Diarmuid watched her step out of the river and mumble an incantation before she disappeared into thin air. After she'd gone, Diarmuid could clearly hear the chatter and identified it as two women.

"—and I told you that I didn't think this to be a bright idea, Morgana."

His ears perked at the name.

"Yes, but isn't it nice to be yourself once in a while, dear—"

They came into view and Diarmuid confirmed it was indeed Morgana but she was accompanied by a lady. One he'd never seen before. She was short but very beautiful. She held herself with grace and poise, almost as if she were of royal blood (but her clothes suggested otherwise).

"We deeply apologize!" The lady gasped and turned about quickly. Morgana made no effort to show reserve. She just had her brow lifted and looked upon him as if she were looking at nothing more than a blade of grass.

"Lady Morgana," she tugged the King's sister and reluctantly Morgana turned. "Had we known someone was here we would've not come this way, now we should be off."

"Diarmuid," Morgana turned towards him again, "It is s splendid to find you here. Is the water cold?" She lifted an eyebrow, "it seems it might be a bit chilly, your cheeks are on fire!"

"My lady if you could please turn around so I can make myself presentable." Diarmuid's blush vibrantly lit his cheeks and it wasn't helping that Morgana just stared at him.

"You're already presentable." Morgana smiled and then picked up his cloth, throwing it to him. He caught it just before it hit the water. "I like you better with less clothes. I get to know you better every day, don't I?"

She finally turned around after being pulled once more by the mysterious lady, to Diarmuid's relief, and he was able to walk out of the river and make himself slightly more presentable. The tunic that he'd brought was low cut and the best he could do was tie the strings to close it slightly, chest still quite exposed. He slipped into some trousers and shoved his feet into the boots that were left discarded near the boulder.

His eye caught something that shun in the grass and he reached for it, noticing it was one of the jewels that adorned Youth's headdress. He slipped it into the satchel and then cleared his throat while he dried his hair.

The two ladies turned around upon his que and stood mostly in silence.

"If you don't mind me asking, why are you both in the middle of the forest?" He asked, eyebrow raising once he finished drying his hair with the cloth. He couldn't help but notice that they just stared at him, well, his chest to be exact. He cleared his throat once more and they snapped their eyes back up.

"Well, the Lady Morgana and I were taking a breath of fresh air," the blonde replied, cheeks set ablaze.

Diarmuid couldn't help but notice she seemed familiar, though, he couldn't quite place his finger on it. "That is a lovely idea."

"Oh, where are my manners," Morgana grinned "Diarmuid, this is—"

"Lily," the blonde interjected. There was no welcoming smile on her lips, her eyes serious and grave.

Diarmuid reached out his hand and she placed her atop it. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. "A pleasure to meet such a beautiful lady." He smiled. "Though the circumstances in which we met are...not such a pleasure. Forgive me."

He swore she gave him a glimpse of a smile before she took her hand back and her lips were pursed once more. "No need to apologize. It should be us apologizing for intruding."

"Lily is a maid of mine, exclusively for getting away from the city," Morgana explained, pulling out a handkerchief from a pocket in her dress. "She is such sweet company. We get along swimmingly as if we were sisters."

Lily shot Morgana a look that didn't seem anything like a maid would do, but Diarmuid didn't seem to notice. Instead he gathered his things and gave them a nod. "Would you like company? The forest can be a frightening place for ladies."

Lily scoffed and he was caught off guard. "With all due respect, Diarmuid—was it?—we can take care of ourselves. You might need to be careful, though, I hear the ladies might tackle you."

He laughed and nodded. "Touché."

"However," Morgana jumped into the conversation, "we'd love your company. I'm guessing you came all the way here for the same reason we did. It'll be sweet of you to walk with us through the forest."

Nodding, he spoke, "I will keep my distance."

"Nonsense!" Morgana waved her hand and wrapped her arm around his. "Walk and talk with us, the company of a handsome and sweet man is always welcomed."