The group stops in front of the castle, staring up at the crumbling structure. Much of the palace's walls are falling apart, leaving the grass surrounding the area crushed under the rubble. Almost all the windows are shattered beyond repair and out of the five towers that seemed to have originally stood only one is still intact. The place looks to be deserted and they would have thought as such if not for the footsteps leading in and out of the entrance.

Arthur looks to his men and when he sees them give him a nod he continues forward into the castle. They arrive in a large, central chamber. The room is empty save for the dust motes floating about in the air. Rocks are covering the ground from the collapsed ceiling and shards of glass are piled below the windows. A staircase leads up to the second floor in one corner while various corridors branch out on the main floor, leading to who knows where.

Arthur shifts his gaze between the different paths, trying to find clues as to where Merlin could be, but all he sees are footprints in the dust leading in all directions. He heaves a sigh, turning again to face his friends. "We'll have to split up. It'll take too long if we search all together," Arthur says.

Lancelot nods in agreement as he looks around the large room. "Indeed, Merlin may be dead by then. What do you want us to do when someone finds him?"

Arthur glances up to the sky, trying to calculate when sunrise would be. At most he would bet they have a few more hours. "If you're able to save him alone then do so and wait outside where we left the horses. We'll all meet up there at first light. If you're not able to save him then meet at the same spot and we'll go in together. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sire," Lancelot says, prompting a few nods from the others in the room.

Arthur turns to look at the chamber again, counting four areas to search. He splits the group up, sending Gwaine to the right, Lancelot to the left, Percival and Leon up to the second floor, then lastly Elyan and himself down the centre. He would have preferred to send the blacksmith with Gwaine, for they all know the drunk can get sidetracked easily, but the others had opposed the idea of him wandering Morgana's castle alone and opted for Elyan to go with him in case something happened. He didn't argue, after all he wanted to start searching for Merlin as soon as he could, and so decided to let it be.

Together, he and Elyan approach the central door. He pushes it open with a grunt, causing the hinges to screech in protest. They enter the hall to find more doors lining the walls on either side before the corridor seems to branch off in two directions. Arthur sighs and opens the closest door to begin their search.

-----

Arthur shuts the door angrily, frustrated that he still has yet to find Merlin or anything of use even after a few hours of combing the area. The rooms he searches are almost always barren. If he does find anything it's only ever a chair or a table.

He groans as he opens the door to find another empty room. He curses under his breath and storms down the hall, wondering how Elyan was faring after they had to split up as well in order to cover more space.

He's just about to round the corner when two guards catch his eye. He stops abruptly, pressing his back against the wall and peering out from around the corner. A pair of Saxons stand guard outside what Arthur assumes to be either the council chambers or the throne room given the fancy door. The men hold spears aloft in their hands and are scanning the vicinity, eyes focused on the task.

He's almost sure Morgana is on the other side. He considers waiting until first light so he can gather his knights, but the cry of pain coming from the other side of the door makes him give up on the idea entirely.

He pulls his sword from its sheath and charges the men. His sudden appearance startles the guards, allowing him to run his blade though the closest Saxon without any struggle. Unfortunately, he's unable to do the same with the second man. The guard pulls out his sword as well, scowling at the sight of his dead comrade and charges.

Arthur makes quick work of the second Saxon. He ducks out of the way and slashes his sword downwards, successfully slicing the man across the chest. The guard crumples to the floor, gasping for breath as he struggles to remain conscious. Arthur brings his blade down on the dying man, making his end quick before proceeding to the entrance of the room.

He pushes open the double doors and almost the moment he crosses the threshold they slam shut behind him. He pulls on the handles, tugging at them only to find that it won't budge. He sighs, turns around, and is greeted by the sight of Morgana seated on a stone throne. She smirks at him when she notices his gaze, the smug smile growing as she watches his eyes trail to the slim figure lying on the floor.

Arthur stops in his tracks, shoulders tensing as he watches the body heave up and down with each breath. He knows it's Merlin on the ground, dying at Morgana's feet because he allowed the idiot to run off and save the kingdom on his own. He knew he should have stopped him, knew he should have at least gone with him. And now he's going to pay the price.

"Oh, Arthur," Morgana coos as she stands from her throne, "how are you? I missed you, dear brother."

Arthur keeps his eyes locked on Merlin, making sure to keep his expression neutral despite the growing anger in his gut. "Let him go," he says, surprised at the steadiness in his voice, "You have me now. You don't need him anymore."

Morgana chuckles, bending down before grabbing a fistful of Merlin's hair. "Oh, but I do," she says and yanks him upright, making the boy wince in pain at the sudden movement. The warlock's gaze flits towards Arthur's, seeming to send a silent plea for him to go.

The king, of course, refuses to listen. His grip tightens on his sword, ready to charge when the weapon is suddenly knocked from his hand. It skids across the room, stopping only after it hits the wall. Before he's even able to decide what to do next two burly men grab each of his arms, manhandling him down onto his knees and holding him there.

Arthur growls low in his throat, glaring daggers at Morgana whose eyes are just fading back to its original green colour. She smirks at him, proud to have defeated the king with such ease. She tuts at him, expression mocking as she gestures for the men to pull him forward. "Brash as always. Some people just don't change do they," she says.

Arthur glares as he's dropped before the witch, again being held down by the two men beside him. They've placed him directly in front of Merlin and he has to hold himself back from charging into a futile fight after he observes the state of his servant. The warlock's clothes are almost covered in blood from the blossoming wound in his side and there appears to be a nasty cut on his forehead. He's breathing heavily as though every breath hurt him and he seems to be barely drifting on the edge of consciousness though apparently he's awake enough to roll his eyes at him after witnessing his futile attempt at saving him.

Arthur turns his attention back to Morgana, when she chuckles, bending down to caress a finger down Merlin's cheek as a coin appears in her hand. "How about we play a game, like old times," she says, eyes flitting towards the king with a devilish smirk before roughly throwing Merlin back down on the ground.

The warlock groans as his wounds are jostled, making him turn and curl into his side. Arthur lurches forward, wanting nothing more than to help but the men are still holding him back.

Morgana laughs at the sight of the king's desperation. She bends down, holding the coin up in front of him and showing the two sides. One depicts the image of the king while the other of his warlock. "I'll flip this coin," she says, twirling the gold between her fingers, "and whoever is face up lives. Whoever is face down, however," she smirks, "dies."

Arthur grits his teeth, trying to find some way, any way, out of this situation. He's already considered outright attacking her, but clearly he can't win without a weapon. He's also outnumbered and judging by Merlin's condition he doubts he'll be able to get much help from the warlock. The only thing he can think of is to buy time, wait for an opportunity. His only choice is to play Morgana's game.

"If we're going to play this game then it's going to be fair. No magic," he growls, hating that he has to agree and potentially risk Merlin's life, but he supposes a chance to save him is better than no chance at all.

"Agreed," Morgana says and stands. She holds the coin up, giving the king one last smirk before flipping it into the air.

Arthur tenses as he watches the coin spin, feeling as though time has gone to a stand still. The only he thing he can hear is the sharp shrill of the wind blowing past the coin as it dances through the air and the loud beating of his own heart. He holds his breath as the coin falls, still spinning, before clattering onto the floor. It bounces once on the stone then rolls across the surface. Arthur shifts his attention towards Morgana, making sure she held to her promise of no magic before turning his eyes back on the coin, though he ensures the witch is visible within his sights.

The shilling soon slows, losing its momentum and starts to tilt towards the floor. Arthur swallows, watching as the coin falls to the side, clattering on the ground until it finally grows still.

-----

A/N - So, I just wanted to say that the whole coin flipping idea came from another one of BBC's shows called 'The Musketeers' (S2 EP6). I did change it as the rules of the game isn't entirely the same, but I figured I should mention this isn't wholly my idea.

Anyways, thank you to everyone for reading, voting, and commenting on this story! It means a lot to me. =D