Arthur's POV

"A toast, to another victory against the evils of magic and for the continued prosperity of Camelot," Uther says, his goblet raised in the air while a bright smile graces his face.

The rest of the guests in the hall follow suite. Knights, noblemen, and women all raise their chalices in the air in unison before taking a long swig of the wine. I down my whole cup at once, hoping the sweetness will flush away the unease in my mind for at least awhile longer. I slam the cup down onto the table in frustration, sending nasty glares towards my father as he cheerfully feasts upon the platter of food presented before him, laughing and chatting with the noblemen beside him. 

I hide a scowl from my lips as a nervous servant shuffles over at the sight of my empty goblet. He fills the cup to the brim with wine before turning around to leave. I stop him with a hand. I drain the cup instantly then prompt him for more. The boy glances to me in worry before filling my goblet again. I do the same with this cup as well. After the third cup full of wine I begin to feel tipsy. My mind swirls and my vision begins to haze. I can feel my cheeks becoming hot from the influx of alcohol. The feeling helps to ease the problems in my mind. I rise from my seat after a couple more moments and excuse myself. I enter my chambers and slam the door shut, immediately collapsing onto the bed afterwards.  

I let out a tired groan before allowing the darkness to overtake me.

-----

I wake in the morning with a massive headache. My vision continues to swim in and out of focus as I stumble to my feet. I manage to reach he pitcher of water and pour myself a cup full. I down the drink, making a mental note to visit the physician later. I wipe my mouth on my sleeve just as my father enters my chambers. George walks in behind him with a tray of food. 

"Good morning, father," I say, my words slightly slurred. 

"Good morning my son. How are you feeling today?" He asks, eyeing me suspiciously. 

"I'm feeling fine. Why do you ask?"

A smile spreads across his face. "You had been enchanted by a sorcerer but have no fear the sorcerer is dead." He gives me a pat on the shoulder. 

It takes everything I have to keep the anger from boiling inside me. I'm almost about to lash out at him but I manage to hold myself back. I take a deep breath and still my expression. "Thank you, father. I'll be sure to be more careful next time."

He nods his approval. "Good. I will be sending out a couple of patrols to search for any more sorcerers that managed to escape. You may rest for the day, Arthur. You must be tired."

Merlin... I panic at the thought of him getting caught. He'll probably be burned, hanged, or beheaded. An image surfaces in my mind. Merlin, strapped to a stake with fire surrounding him. I shudder at the thought. There must be some way to warn him but would he even believe me? I think back to the previous day. The hatred in his eyes, his voice. They were painful to witness. His gaze had felt as though a knife had carved out my heart.

"Arthur?" I look up to see my father staring at me worriedly. "Are you alright my son?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Just... thinking."

My father gazes at me wearily before turning to leave. I watch his back recede from view before turning abruptly towards George. "Get me dressed. I'm heading out," I order, already heading behind the screen to shed my night clothes.

"But what about-"

"Now, George."

"Yes, sire." 

------

Merlin's POV

I'm seated in a large chair, staring down at the sprawl of maps laid out on the table before me. Candles burn low around the tent, casting a faint glow around the area. A quill rests between my fingers as I stare down at the maps in an effort to determine our next course of action.  

"Merlin?" I look up to find Morgana standing hesitantly outside the tent. Furs decorate her shoulders to help shield her from the cold. "May we come in?"

I notice now that Mordred, Lancelot, and Gwaine are waiting behind her as well. I smile at them and wave them in. Mordred approaches the table, gazing down at the various maps on its surface. 

"Are you planning something?" he asks, picking up the one closest to him to examine. 

"I was wondering what to do next," I say with a sigh as I set down the quill in my hands. 

Gwaine shrugs, picking an apple from the bowl on a side table. He takes a bite from the fruit before looking down at the maps as well. Morgana and Lancelot follow suite. They all stare at the map for a moment. Morgana is the first to speak. "So what have you come up with?"

My gaze hardens at the small drawing of Camelot's castle on the maps. My fists clench and unclench on the arm rests. "I was thinking we attack."

"Attack? Camelot?" Lancelot says, looking up in slight surprise. 

"Of course it wouldn't be now. Perhaps in a week or two."

"Isn't that too soon?" Gwaine asks around a mouthful of apple.

"I know, but I want to catch them by surprise. They currently have their guard down thinking we are defeated." 

"Merlin's right," Morgana says suddenly, "I know my father. He must be celebrating his victory this very moment. He will send out knights to find and kill us. Many of his knights will be away from the palace. There will be no better time to strike then when he thinks he has won."

"But we are far from ready. We lost many of our best during that attack," Mordred points out.

"We can ask the druids," I say, pointing to one of the maps, "I know of some who are currently residing within the forest of Acetir. I'm sure they will help if we ask. We all know they want Uther dead as much as we do."

"But will they be enough?" Lancelot questions. 

"There is also someone else that can help us." 

"Who?"

"Kilgharrah."

"The Great Dragon?!" Mordred exclaims in surprise.

I nod.

"Why wasn't he there to help when Uther attacked?!"

"I can only assume my father was afraid he would cause too much damage to the town."

"And I'm assuming you can tame him."

"Believe me Kilgharrah would have destroyed the place already had I not stopped him."

"Well, the chances are much higher with a dragon on our side. What about the other one? Aithusa was her name wasn't it?" Gwaine asks this time having finished his apple.

"She's too young. I cannot send her into combat," I reply.

"So we will strike in around a weeks time. Should I relay this to the others?" Lancelot asks.

"Please do. If there are any questions let them know to bring it forth to me." 

Lancelot nods before turning to leave, pulling a reluctant Gwaine along with him. Mordred gives a bow before leaving the tent as well after the pair. Morgana is the only one that remains. She settles down in an empty seat next to me, watching me with a steady gaze. 

"Are you alright Merlin?" she asks after a few minutes of silence.

"I'm fine," I say, keeping my eyes on the map.

"Don't try to hide it from me. I can see when there is something bothering you."

"There is nothing wrong Morgana though I do appreciate your concern."

"Oh please, there has been something bothering you since I found you yesterday and I know it's more then what happened to Balinor. I've seen you depressed. You'll still manage to smile and laugh but this time its different. You have hardly cracked a joke or even smiled at that. Something else happened. I want to know what."

I look up from the maps. "Please, Morgana, not now. It was nothing."

"You know you can talk to me. I won't tell."

I let out a sigh. "It was just..." I rub at my forehead, "have you ever had someone betray you? Someone you trusted with all your heart only to have them throw it back into your face?"

"Of course. I had trusted Uther. I believed what he said about magic for the longest time. I thought that what he had done during the purge was necessary but after I found out about my own magic, after I met everyone here. I knew he was wrong. You, Mordred, and Balinor have taught me so much. You had taught me what magic truly is, which is something not to be feared. You could imagine what I felt after discovering something like that. Who had betrayed you?"

I hesitate, averting my gaze. "It's... not someone important."

Morgana lets out a sigh. She rises from her seat before turning to leave the tent. "Well, when you wish to talk feel free to come find me. I won't pressure you."

"Morgana." 

She stops, hand freezing midway to the tent flap. She turns her head to look at me.

"You were right. People don't change, especially those Pendragons."

------

Arthur's POV

Snow crunches under my boots as I make my way through the forest, following the worn trail that has been made from countless trips. I stop once I reach the edge of the clearing. A thin blanket of snow covers the entire area from the tops of the trees to the grass at my feet. The small lake and waterfall are frozen in place. The ice glistening in the afternoon light. 

I glance around the area, hoping to find Merlin seated against the trunk of a tree with a book in his hands. Only he isn't there. No one is. I let out a sigh before leaning against the tree myself. I slump down in the snow covered ground, feeling the cold seep into the bottom of my trousers and wait. I wait for what feels like forever, hoping in vain that Merlin would show. That I could have a chance to explain what had happened. That I could warn him about the threat of my father's patrols. 

I lean against the tree, waiting, even when the sun has begun to set. 

"He will show," I keep mumbling to myself, "he will come."

But nobody came.