Shadows of Uncertainty

Shadows of Uncertainty
This is the first story from the RPG Albion Rising.

Starring
Merlin Arthur Pendragon Guinevere Morgana Pendragon Lancelot Gwaine Percival Maire Clough Tegan Morgause Blackthorn McKenna

Shadows of Uncertainty
Merlin



Between the people who called him friend, Merlin stood with his hands behind his back and sparkling eyes focused on the courtyard below. Those men and that woman (Arthur, Gwaine, Percival, Gwen) had never heard his secret and had never truly seen him in action, thus unaware of how dangerous he could be. If they found out, their lives would change forever. Would what they learned still be the truth or would they question everything? Could there ever be trust? If they found out, Merlin would be dead - plain and simple. A sword would be skewered through his chest or he would be tied to a pyre or drown or hung, like the man in the courtyard.

He was weary from the lies. The warlock foudn himself questioning who heactually was. Those untruths left a bitter taste in his mouth. Merlin never felt clean. He didn't like who he was anymore. He didn't like the lies. Desperately, he wanted to tell the truth. Shouting his secret from the tower would feel marvelous.

As the man in the courtyard was prepared for the hanging - the hood slipped over the head, the rope going around his neck, and him helped onto the stool - Merlin deduced he would indeed tell the truth. Maybe now was the time that his secret could come out. Maybe, Merlin could convince Arthur to change the laws once the man realized how magic had been an asset to Camelot. Maybe these unjust hangings could be ended.

Standing there, he tensed. What if things would ever change? What if he was killed. The thought angered Merlin. The warlock's jaw tensed as his hands balled into tight fists and eyes smoldered with repressed anger.

Arthur Pendragon



It was impossible to miss the low murmurs coming from the crowd below. Some were saying that the man deserved what was coming to him, but most were just murmuring trivial things because no one wanted to go against King Uther. Prince Arthur stood on the balcony overlooking the courtyard as well as the stage and the victim who was up on it.

Even though he wanted to, Arthur knew better than to plead with his father for the man's life. He knew his father and how the king felt about magic, those who wielded magic and those who worked for sorcerers. It would be pointless to plead and beg because any words spoken would fall on deaf ears.

In his mind he knew what was going on down below was wrong. He did not have the hatred of magic that his father had. Arthur didn't fully understand magic but even so he didn't hate it nor did he want it driven from the world.

He looked away to study those that were nearby. Most of the townsfolk were looking at one another or they were staring at the ground; anything really to avoid looking at the stage where the poor man was about to meet his doom. Blue eyes tracked over all of them before rising and falling upon a head of raven dark hair and equally blue eyes.

Merlin. Arthur knew the younger lad had a soft spot for people in need. Heck, the younger man's views on the world in general had actually worked to shape the prince's views on things as well. Once upon a time Arthur had been arrogant, disrespectful and rude. What had the boy called him? A prat. Now though the prince knew he had changed for the better and he owed some of that change to his manservant…but he would never admit that to Merlin!

It was easy to see that the young man was tense. Perhaps he wanted to lash out or do something stupid, like trying to save the man about to die. Witnessing a death like that wasn't for the squeamish. "Merlin," Arthur muttered softly, making sure his father wouldn't hear, "Go back inside, do something to take your mind off of this. I don't want to hear you whining about it all day." He hoped that Merlin would follow his order but he wouldn't be surprised if his manservant chose to ignore it.

Guinevere



These things always happened on cold, gray mornings where the sun refused to shine. Gwen shivered, she hated when Uther decided to kill someone because they might have magic or they might know someone with magic. But he was the king and there were only a few people who ever had the heart to stand up to him.

Gwen stood silently in the courtyard next to her brother Eylan and the other knights. They were some of the only people Gwen felt at home with. These knights had become a family to her after her father died and her brother returned home.

While the man was being prepared for his hanging, Gwen wasnt quite sure where to look, so her eyes travelled from the ground, to scanning the crowd to up where the King stood. Next to him was his son Prince Arthur, her heart raced just looking at him. She had been in love with him for a while now.

She quickly looked away, blushing like crazy. As she did so her eyes caught the man who was about to die. Those fearful eyes made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. With a small gasp she looked down at the ground again.

Gwen was always the kind of person who would do anything and everything for a person in need but as she stood in the courtyard she just felt helpless she wanted to help this man but it was against the law to defy the king.

Gwen didnt see what was wrong with magic, she didnt trust it but she also didnt see it as a bad thing. If the right person had magic then it could be very good for the people around them. People with magic could heal and rebuild, it didnt always have to be destruction and pain. But it was not her place to say so. She just hoped that one day when Prince Arthur was king he would do the right thing.

Merlin



Eyes smoldering, Merlin looked at the man below. He'd gotten to know this person. His name was Drust, he'd been a cobbler. His wife and child had died earlier that year after falling off a horse. He had been a good man and loyal citizen of Camelot. Seeing him with the rope about his neck was just wrong. It angered him like few things had before. Magic pulsed in his veins, ready to act. Merlin willed it down – he was not prepared to unleash his powers.

He looked behind him Gwaine and Percival had left his side to join Lancelot, Gwen, and Elyan. Somehow in his revelry, Merlin had been left with Arthur and Uther. Feeling alone and vulnerable, the warlock felt his mood sour some more. Seeing them down there solidified his opinion of them – that they would turn their backs away from him when or if they found out the truth. But, didn't he deserve that treatment? Merlin was a traitor and a liar. Perhaps he should alone.

As Arthur looked at him, Merlin returned the gaze. But, it wasn't a friendly one; there was anger and coldness within those blue orbs. His lips were pressed into a hard, thin line. His jaw pulsed with pent-up energy and frustration.

"Is that an order," Merlin asked in a curt voice. He shook his head. "No. No, I'm not. I won't. Nothing, and I mean nothing, will take my mind off of this. I've seen it before, anyway."

At being accused of possible whining, bile rose in his mouth. He wrinkled his nose as he swallowed it down. "Is that how you see me? A whining, simpering manservant," Merlin asked. "I am far more than that."

Gwaine



Gwaine did not like this one bit. When he had joined up as a knight of Camelot, for Arthur's sake and certainly not the King's, it had been under the impression that he would be upholding the values of a knight. Justice, chivalry, compassion, respect among many others and this covered none of them. Sure he could be a cad sometimes, he liked a laugh and a drink but he certainly did not like the idea of men being put to death for no real reason and with no real proof other than Uther had said so. He had not arrested Drust and he was glad of it. He felt guilty enough that he was watching the man die. A man he had shared a few drinks with on a cool evening. He had been harmless and despite his tragic past, friendly and helpful. He was sure this was insanity. He couldn't bear standing with the Prince and the King, looking down at people as if they were nothing because it simply wasn't true. He was one of them. So without a thought he made his way to the courtyard to stand with the others.

He looked up as the poor man was led to his death. He would watch him, while many turned away. He deserved that respect at least. He kept his hand on his sword, just in case there was chance of reprieve and he would gladly get up there and help him but he knew there wouldn't be. Uther never showed mercy and he had to hold his ground.

If it wasn't for Merlin or even Arthur, Gwaine would have left this place long ago. He held no love for it, other than some of the people. He stayed because Merlin and the other knights were his friends, especially Percival, and he had a deep respect for Arthur. He hoped that one day the Prince would be come king and he hoped he would have higher regard for life than what his father did. The only positive thing that he could take from this was that he hoped Drust would join his wife and child and for once was not leaving loved ones behind. It didn't make this any easier. He would need a strong drink after, duty or not. It was enough to shake up any man... apart from the king that was. Gwaine stood silent keeping his thoughts to himself and keeping his dark eyes on the man in front of them.

Percival



The morning wasn't bright, the sun didn't even want to poke it's head out from behind the dark gray clouds that circled above the courtyard. It knew all too well what this day meant, what it brought. A man, accused for being of magic, was to be put to death. The worse thing about it was, was that Percival was the one to arrest him. Durst, the poor man, had been accused of sorcery playing and unfortunately with King Uther at the helm, any sorts of whispers like that brought with it a permanent consequence. It had rained earlier in the morning. Percival was up, had watched it unable to sleep. Yes he had killed many before, but this was different. There was no evidence, only words, the man could be innocent. He wasn't sure he could stand to have innocent blood on his hands, but what could he do? If he defied the King's orders it would be him upon the stage getting the noose around his neck.

Was this cowardly? Should he have spoken up and demanded there be proof before he rode off to arrest the man? Should it be him walking through the thick mud from the early morning rain, getting food thrown at him. Led up the steep stairs and stand before the people of Camelot for crimes against the King. Percival wasn't sure, but part of him kept saying it should be him, he should be killed. Another part of him kept telling him that this was his job, he had to protect the people, there was nothing more he could do. His muscles were tense and taut, as was his jaw as he watched the proceedings, the reading of the man's crimes, the boo's of the crowd. It was disgusting and guilt was eating away at his insides like a termite to wood. He was sure that soon there would be nothing left but holes and soon he would crumble to dust.

To his left stood his best mate, Gwaine, fidgeting and clearly distraught about the whole thing. Who wouldn't be? Besides those brainwashed by the views of their loving King. Percival sighed and looked to his friend, even though the man was silent, he knew what he was thinking. He placed a large hand on Gwaine's shoulder, it was a comforting gesture, no words were said because there didn't need to be. They both knew what it meant. Slowly his hand fell and they clasped together in front of him as he drew in a large breath. It was cold without the sun.

Arthur Pendragon



Arthur knew what his father was doing was wrong. There was no real proof that the cobbler had done what he had been accused of but now that Drust was dead what did it matter? The prince followed his father back in to the castle, informing Uther that the two of them would need to talk later.

After that Arthur had gone to his chambers and there he currently was listening to his manservant rant on and on about how he couldn't take it anymore. To be honest Arthur was barely listening until he heard the last little bit of Merlin's sentence.

He was silent, searching the younger man's face for the truth. Merlin had just openly told him that he was a sorcerer. Was the lad serious, joking or just plain nuts?

The moment passed and then Arthur chuckled, not believing his manservant in the slightest. "You have magic?" he asked, more or less repeating what Merlin had said, "Merlin I know you are upset about what happened and I know that Drust's death was unnecessary but you must be careful who you say those words to. If it were any one else they would have gone straight to the king."

It was because Arthur didn't believe Merlin at all that he didn't automatically go to the king or at least summon the guards. "You know what openly admitting that means." Arthur said.

He for one didn't want to see his manservant sentenced to death and then beheaded, strangled or burned at the stake just for saying he had magic.

Merlin



Merlin half wondered if Arthur was deaf. The Prince had not responded to anything the warlock had said and Merlin had been ranting for quite a while. The list had been long. After speaking, the warlock found himself breathless – as if he had just run for miles without taking a break. Part of the heavy breathing was probably due to the anger he felt and the adrenaline it sent coursing through his veins.

However, Arthur's hearing abilities were proven to be strong when the Prince finally looked upon the warlock. While Arthur looked him in the face, Merlin stared back. His lips were pressed into a thin line. His jaw was still tight and pulsing. His blue eyes smoldered with anger, hurt, and weariness. There was no doubting his sincerity.

Then, the Prince laughed a little. His anger surged, as did the magic within him. It pulsed underneath his skin as it begged and screamed to be released. Merlin fought to control his abilities and keep them at bay. "I am not joking," Merlin snapped. The warlock didn't find this situation funny in the slightest.

"I am a sorcerer. I have magic," Merlin repeated. His stood tall and proud while he spoke. "I was born with it." He took a deep breath and exhaled. He did it again and again.

He sneered at the Prince. "Oh, how naïve you are…how little you truly understand. Of course I am upset about Drust's death. But, it's more than that. It runs deeper than that. I've been here for years and I see people killed for who they are. No questions asked. Men and women are just killed without blinking an eye. The situation is never examined deeper," Merlin began.

"Sure, I've kept my tongue. I had to. I'm not stupid and I'm not an idiot as much as you'd like to believe. I had faith in you and this kingdom that things could be better at some point. But, no…no things are just getting worse," he continued in just as defiant of a tone.

Merlin shook his head as he thought about the city. "This place, because of fear and lack of understanding, is in an eternal stalemate. Camelot's going to fall. I thought things could be different…they could be better. Someday, there was supposed to be a world called Albion where all the lands were united. I believed it. I believe that I was to play a role in the birth of that nation. I was told I would. So, that belief makes me the naïve person. But, not anymore, I am done playing that role. I am done believing things could be better. Camelot is going to crumble," he concluded.

"Don't lecture me about who I say those words to! I know. I know what happens," Merlin hissed. He raised a hand and sent a little ball of light sailing around the room just to prove he wasn't joking. When the light dissipated, he lowered his hand. "What are you going to do? Kill me?"

Tegan



Tegan stood up and stretched her sore legs, she had been tracking some deer for a few days and she was ready to go home.Tegan was tall and slender, but toned and fit, she also had piercing steel gray eyes that flashed when she was angry. Her long blonde hair was in a braid that ran down her back almost touching her bottom. She gave a sharp whistle and two huge Alaunt dogs ran to her side. She knelt down again and scratched behind their ears as they came up. Her father, one of the Elders, had given her these two as pups, she called them Bear and Avalon. Bear was big with a black and brown coat and coal black eyes, while Avalon was white with blue eyes.

Tegan had not seen any tracks and she was frustrated, she knew she had to get some food soon or all the druid camp would have to eat was fruits and vegetables. "You ready to go home, guys?" she asked and Bear barked. Tegan laughed, "Well lets go then.". She climbed up on her gray horse and rode off back to the camp.

She reached the camp a little after noon, and she dismounted her horse and tied it outside her tent on the outskirts of the camp. She was a good fighter, she hunted and she tracked so she liked to stay where she could easily get out and protect the ones she loved.

Tegan unsaddled her horse and brushed it before taking it to the small paddock she had built for her other horses, she had three all together, she used them to teach the younger druids to ride. She had offensive magic but it was hard for her to simple tasks with magic, she knew she would have to learn as she grew. Her father had taught her that.

Tegan made her way through the camp with Bear and Avalon at her heels. Then she saw Morgana and Maire both looking upset and faint. "Heel." she said to her dogs and raced over to see if the two girls were alright. "Morgana! Maire! Are you alright?" she asked as she reached then. She reached over to steady a weak Maire. "What happened?" she asked worried. She had known Morgana and Maire for a while now, and it troubled her when they were like this. It meant something bad had happened.

Guinevere



Gwen finished up the laundry, and carried it up and into the hall on her way towards the King's chambers and she sang quietly to herself. Anything she could do to keep her mind off of what had happened earily that day, less than and hour ago. All she wanted to do was get as much space between her and those horrible gallows as soon as she could but for right now she had to do her job which meant walking past them every once in a while.

Gwen stopped to chat with a servant, who was histerical because her sister was having a baby. Gwen set down her laundry and rushed to help her take her sister to Gauis, and then raced back to grab the laundry before the King spotted it and told her off for forgetting to do her chores.

Gwen carried the laundry passed the armoury and took a peak inside. She knew how to fight, in fact she knew all about armour because her father had been a blacksmith. She kept walking but wasn't paying attention to where she was going when she ran head long into someone. "Oh sorry." she said looking up to see who it was, and her cheeks immediately when red.

It was Lancelot, her feelings were all muddled, she was in love with Arthur but she was also in love with Lancelot. Gwen remembered when she first met him, a long time ago. He had been a man with no knighthood, but still passionate and caring. She had fitted him for his armour and then suddenly he had been banished and was gone. She had been hurt but she knew it was better for him to go then to face the full wraith of King Uther. "Lancelot...."she said breathlessly, "How are you?"

Maire Clough



Maire felt the soft wave of friendship and caring emit from Morgana. It made her smile a little bit, although it made her feel as if the woman was taking pity upon her. "You needn't do that, Morgana. But, thank you," the Empath said in a soft voice.

As Morgana greeted her, the empath curtsied a little bit. Maire's mother, when she was alive, had taught her what proper manners were and the young woman felt the need to use those skills. The freckle-faced Maire looked Morgana in the eyes for a brief moment and then adverted her gaze. Her mother had taught it was impolite to stare. Also, it was unnerving for her to gaze at someone too long. It opened her up to a wave of emotions; that was something she strove to avoid, lest the empath wanted to pass out or being driven insane from the feelings (both of these things she did not want).

"I worry more about us being found, not about how much I feel. I know if Camelot's knights find us, we'll be killed no matter how much we fight," Maire replied with a weary sigh; a hint of her Mercia accent lilted her words. "It can be hard…to feel so much. But, I have learned to block it. The emotions of others are like white noise, a slight buzz or tingle within me. Only the most severe feelings, those that are very strong, are what I experience."

As Tegan neared her and Morgana, the young woman looked toward the blonde-haired woman. "I can't speak for Morgana, but I am fine. I just haven't slept well lately. Emotions are running rampart in Camelot. It's harder to ignore," she said, stepping away from Tegan. While she was thankful for the attempt at comfort, touch made her a little uneasy. She also did not want to be seen as weak or in need of support. "Another person in Camelot was killed," she whispered. "I felt his death. No surprise at that, though."

Arthur Pendragon



The prince was silent and unmoving for several seconds as his mind tried to register what the hell he had just seen. His manservant wasn't making it up! He did indeed have magic and so...and so...and so what? What should happen next? Arthur knew the laws about magic and those that wielded it, but surely that couldn't apply to Merlin.

Then again...

A deep sense of betrayal washed over Arthur. In the back of his mind he was unsure where all the anger was coming from but he was angry at Merlin for not telling him sooner. If Drust had not been killed would the younger man have continued to keep it a secret?

"You know better than to speak to me like that Merlin," Arthur warned as he reached for his sword which lay on the table. It was little more than a practice sword that the younger man had neglected to return to the armory but at that moment Arthur was glad the raven haired man had forgotten.

Taking up the sword, the prince gave the blade a quick once over. It wasn't sharp but it wasn't completely dull either. It could in fact kill someone if the person wielding it was skillful; which Arthur was.

Pointing the sword at his manservant Arthur said, "I should kill you right now. The law is quite clear when it comes to matters like this, however..." The prince paused and lowered the blade a little, "I am not my father. Merlin, by the power vested in me I hereby banish you from the land of Camelot for the remainder of your days, under penalty of death. You have until tomorrow morning to depart. I do however promise you that the king will not find out about your secret from me. Go in peace but do not return."

Arthur fixed Merlin with a look that said he was very serious in what he said. The prince needed someone whom he could trust and it was quite obvious that he could no longer trust the one person he had thought he could always count on and that knowledge hurt more than any wound could.

Morgana Pendragon



Morgana shrugged off Maire's comment about being found. "I expect the Knights of Camelot would find more than they bargained for, should they attempt to attack us," she said quietly. "Separately, we are easier to find and terrify, together …" she smiled. "Besides, I'm sure Arthur will have enough to worry about from Morgause and Cenred's alliance."

She looked at the young empath. She did pity her, not because of the cost of her abilities, but because she always seemed to feel she had to endure everything on her own. If there was one lesson that Morgana had had to learn, it was that no one could survive without the support of others. The few weeks she had tried that after escaping Morgause's enchantment had almost cost her her life. Had the druids not found her, ill and alone, she would not be here amongst them today.

She turned when Teagan came up to them and hugged the young druid gently. "I too, saw the execution," Morgana admitted, unconsciously turning toward the City. "I am hopeful, though. Arthur did not appear as … unaffected … as he has been in the past. Perhaps, he is growing up and away from Uther's methods."

The former Lady of Camelot blew out a breath. "There is nothing we can do for him now, but we must expect more refugees on the heels of this execution. I must go with a few of our scouts to ride the perimeter. We may have some unexpected guests for dinner tonight."

Gwaine



Gwaine looked at Percival. He would have smiled to know his friend gave him the small bit of comfort but he couldn't even manage that. Just as he looked back the man dropped and Gwaine felt a lump stick in his throat. He didn't even have the dignity of his neck snapping, the poor man strangled, his death drawn out, probably by Uther's design. Gwaine felt sick, a sensation only added to when they cut Drust down and simply through his body on a cart. He nodded to Gwen as she gave him her own show of support. Sweet Gwen. Gwen that he had had a crush on when he first met her but knew nothing would come of it. Gwen was the sort of girl that one day, he wouldn't mind settling down with, having kids with, teaching those kids how to sword fight, ride horses, run around after with laughter on all their faces. It was his dream. A dream he had thought he might find within the walls of Camelot. A dream that had become a nightmare. The knight stood there for a moment before turning to Percival.

"I'm going to the tavern. I need a drink."

He turned on his heel and made his way through the streets. His usual smile was completely absent. This was awful. He hated this part of his job. He wondered if it would get any better and if it didn't, how long could he keep doing this? But how could he leave. He wondered if he would go mad.

Gwaine walked into the Tavern ordered an ale. He moved over to the table where Durst used to sit, he raised his tankard in salute before beginning to drown his sadness in alcohol.

Tegan



Tegan nodded and stepped away from Maire, she didn't want to seem over protective for the empath, she cared about both women deeply but she knew when enough was enough. "I'm glad both of you are okay, when I was your faces I feared that something had happened here in the camp." She anger surged as Maire told her about the killing in Camelot, she toed the dirt with her boot. "They have been happening more and more. I fear if this continues it will be like it was twenty years ago in The Great Purge. Uther has gotten more blood thirsty as the time goes on. He has said he wants peace, yet here he is killing one of his own people, magical or not."

Tegan gently hugged Morgana back, she knew of Morgana's visions but it still worried her that a woman so young was seeing death at every turn. "Arthur is a good man, from what you have told me and from what I have heard from my adventures into Camelot." she said truthfully, she too hoped for a better life than what they were living in now.

Tegan nodded, remembering last time a man was killed for having magic, nearly twenty refugees had found their way into their camp. " I just wish there was something we could do....anything." she said fiercely, her temper rising again as it always did when she knew that injustice was going on.

Tegan looked up at Morgana, "I was going to go teach some of the children how to ride today, but if you will have me I would like to go with you." she mentioned hopefully. "There is always room in our camp, and enough food too." she laughed.

Blackthorn McKenna



The old druid shuffled through camp, carrying armfuls of leaves and stalks which left a visible trail behind him as he wandered towards his tent. His keen eyes took in everything that was going on in the camp. Most of the druids and their guests were going about their business as preparations for the evening meal were starting.

Blackthorn paused for a moment, sniffing the air. He let out a dissatisfied snort when he could not detect the scent of roasting meat. Too many of these modern druids were convinced that living in harmony with nature meant not sampling of its full bounty. He could live on roots if he had to, but they did nothing for his sensual nature.

Something was afoot though. He saw the three women, all lovely, standing beside Morgana's tent. There was Morgana, the ambivalent sorceress, who had far more power than she knew, Maire, the empath, a sweet beauty whose lovely eyes had seen too much, and Teagan, tall and strong – how she reminded him of an elf girl he'd once known … The three of them together, faces creased with worry could not be a good sign.

Ah well, he'd hear soon enough what had transpired. For the moment, he needed to get his hayflowers into water and then … yes, a nice long nap before dinner. He cast his appreciative eye over the women once more then sailed through the opening to his tent.

Lancelot



Everything was too much, the pain was starting to ebb it's way into his own heart, Merlin's pain as well as the innocent townsfolk. Lancelot pushed his hair from his face and held his hand to his head as he rounded the corner just ahead of the armory. He did not expect to run full force into Gwen, ahh lovely Guinevere.

"Oh I'm sorry Guinevere. My head is not in it's right place." Looking up from the floor he noticed the one single tear making it's way down her face, though she made no move to wipe it away, she was clearly oblivious to it being there. Slowly, he leant forward and used the pad of his thumb to wipe it away, as gently as possible. Lancelot had feelings for the young woman, no doubt about that, but things never ran smoothly for love in Camelot. When he had been banished, his thoughts were only for those he left behind, Merlin, and of course, Gwen. He had wanted so desperately to return, just to see her one more time, but it could never be. Not until he had shown the King he was worthy, saving both Uther and his son in an attack on a hunting trip; Arthur had still had to appeal to his father, who had given the Knight one more chance.

He was brought out of his reverie when he realised Gwen had spoken. "Oh, again, my apologies. I shall be honest, I have been better, these days never get any easier to handle. I was just thinking about Merlin." Darn it, seeing the confusion in Gwen's eyes he remembered only he knew of the warlock's secret. "I mean, having to deal with Arthur on days like this, I can't imagine it would be easy. And having to stand behind him, as if he is ok with what is happening."

There was silence for a short while as he looked into Gwen's caring eyes; if only things were easier and they could all have what they wanted.

"It looks like it's wearing on you too. Come, lets take a stroll, try and take our mind off of things for a while." Holding out his hand, he hoped his love would accept.

Morgana Pendragon



Morgana's eyes swept the horizon. "We'll have to hope that Arthur finds a way out from under his father's … my father's tyranny," Morgana said quietly. "I fear that he is set on a knife edge and the events happening in Camelot may tip him one way or the other." She smiled at Teagan. "He certainly has the potential to be a good man and a good King."

Over Teagan's shoulder she saw Blackthorn come back into camp. As usual, he leered at the three women as they stood talking. He seemed harmless enough, but Morgana felt … uneasy around him. Though she'd been at the Druid camp for more than two years, she still knew next to nothing about him, but that seemed to be true of everyone. She shrugged, he was a great healer, she'd been the beneficiary of that herself. Blackthorn had great skills as a medicine man, and the group was lucky to have him, what with all of the refugees they attracted, most of whom needed some type of healing.

She turned back toward Teagan, "Of course, you may ride with us," she said smiling. "Your tracking skills have come in very useful in the past. I'd like to leave in an hour or so. That will give the people fleeing Uther a chance to get far enough from the citadel that we won't be in any danger. I'll come find you when we're ready to leave, alright? I need to change. I hate riding side-saddle so I'll need to find some britches to wear. See you soon, ladies."

And the former princess whirled and entered her tent.

Tegan



Tegan listened intently to Morgana as she expressed her hopes for Arthur and Tegan felt them mirrored in herself. She wanted a more peacful and happy land where they didn't have to hide anymore. "But there is always hope." Tegan reminded her friend with a faint smile, reassuring herself as well. "Every man has the ability to be a great man. Evil and good depends on their actions that lead them to greatness."

Without looking Tegan heard Blackthorn approach his tent behind them, she could feel his eyes on her and sighed. He was a good man but a little strange at times. She could also tell he was carrying something because of his labored breaths. Tegan had always had keen eyes and ears, that is one of the many reasons she was such a good hunter.

Tegan grinned at Morgana's acceptance, she had only just gotten back into camp but with the news of the death in Camelot she was itching to go out. She bowed her head in thanks to Morgana's compliment. "An hour then." she said with a bright smile and turned to look at Maire "It was great to see you. Now go get some sleep, I am afraid you might fall over right here." she said with a soft laugh, showing that she meant no harm.

With that Tegan walked off towards her tent, she whistled for Bear and Avalon to join her, and they appeared like ghosts in the night. "Good dogs." she said lovingly and quickened her pace, she wouldnt be taking her dogs with her this time. She didn't want to scare any of the refugees.

As Tegan reached her tent she held the flap open for the dogs to enter and then said simply "Stay.". Then she ran over to the paddock and whistled, her three horses approached. One black, one gray, and one white, "We will have to be almost invisible." she told herself. Reaching up she grabbed a bridle from a tree and gently tacked up her black horse. She lead the horse to her tent and tied him to a tree so she could gather the weapons she needed. All there was left to do was wait.

Guinevere



Gwen blushed at Lancelot's words and she pulled away as the tear fell and he wiped it away. She nodded sadly at his words and said softly, "These days are hard on everyone except the King." She tilted her head to the side as she watched Lancelot's face when he mentioned Merlin. "Now Lancelot, I can tell when you are lying. What is going on with Merlin?"

Gwen shyly took Lancelot's hand and lead him through the castle, they passed Prince Arthur's room when something caught her eye. It was Arthur pointing a sword at Merlin. Normally Gwen wouldn't have thought anything of it, the Prince and his manservant were always fighting but they were best friends so they got over it. But this time something was different, a strange light shone in Merlin's eyes and Arthur looked hurt and betrayed.

Gwen caught the last of what Arthur was saying and gasped, she let go of Lancelot's hand and stepped forward, rage and confusion boiling inside of her. She was normally a sweet person but if you made her angry, well it wasn't a pretty sight. She made her way toward the door about to speak but yet she paused. She waited silently for Merlin to speak to reason with Arthur before Merlin was gone forever.

Merlin



Merlin stared at Arthur. His eyes were dark blue, not pale and sparkling (as they usually were). He tracked the Prince's moments, which were at first nonexistent and then minimal. All the while, the warlock kept his magic in check. It was an arduous task. Merlin wanted to let his gift fly free and show Arthur exactly was he could do without breaking a sweat.

Merlin wasn't sure what would happen if he didn't release his magic. It was creating intense pressure in his chest and he found breathing to be difficult. The force and strain was making him sweat and ache.

As the Prince picked up the sword, Merlin's head cocked. He actually wasn't surprised at this move. It disappointed him, but it didn't surprise him.

"Do you think I care how I should speak to you? I have seen so much and sacrificed so much without anyone knowing. I watched my childhood friend die all the while he took the fall for something I did. The windstorm, that was me! I nearly lost my mother and Gaius to save you. I held the love of my life as she bled to death from a wound you caused. I held my father as he died. Balinor was my father. No man is worth my tears, ha! That's a joke. I poisoned Morgana to save you and Camelot. It's why Morgause took her. Every day, I hate myself for it, but I tell me it was done for the good...no the love....of Camelot and that I had to do it because it is my destiny to help you become the great King ever known. But, it's all lies! That supposed destiny, it's not going to happen. I can't see how. So really, I don't care. Kill me if you want."

He took a step back. He wasn't expecting that. "Fine. You go ahead and tell him. Tell him the truth. I don't care. I am tired of hiding," Merlin replied, looking Arthur in the eyes.

Merlin heard a gasp. His eyes flicked to the open door. "Go, Gwen. This is not your fight. This is mine and mine alone," he instructed.

Maire Clough



She nodded. "Yes, you are right. I just can't help worry. I am sorry. Some of us are not as strong in skills as others," she replied. Maire was one of those people who wasn't strong in her abilities. The empath had no other magic skill except to sense emotions (which she had found was useful for finding someone who had gotten lost). She was also barely adapt at wielding a sword. Maire feared she would end up being a hindrance if there ever was an attack.

Feeling the flash of anger, Maire backed up. She staggered a little. Breathing shallowly, the empath steadied herself. "Fear makes people do rash things," she whispered. "And he fears us and our ways."

"We are helping and doing. We give sanctuary to our kind. Without starting a war, what else could we do," she asked, looking at Blackthorn. In the last few months, Maire had noticed him staring at her. She didn't understand why or what his interest was.

"Yes, it was...good," Maire said, feeling awkward. Being around people made her nervous. "I will. I think I will ask for a sleeping draught. I don't want to, but I need to."

She walked to Blackthorn's tent. Peeking her head in, she asked, "May I come in? I am in need of a sleeping draught."

Arthur Pendragon



Arthur never faltered even when Gwen entered the room. He supposed that the scene must have been pretty shocking because he was holding a weapon towards his manservant. Merlin was angry, that was easy to tell. The only question was a simple one - was Merlin angry enough to use his magic to harm someone?

That question burned brightly in Arthur's mind. He wanted the younger man to go in peace, quickly and quietly. He didn't want to have to use the weapon on Merlin but if the warlock poised any sort of threat to Camelot, the prince knew he would have to use the weapon. The protection of Camelot had to come over everything; friendships included.

"You say you don't care but you know what will happen should my father find out. He will not stop hunting for you. He will use anything and everything at his disposal to find you. Most villages will not harbor you and many innocent lives could be put at risk. I am not willing to risk the lives of innocent men, woman and children on some bloodbath that could happen. Are you?" Arthur asked.

The prince hoped that Merlin wasn't going to be willing to risk the lives of innocents. Uther was a monster when it came to hunting people with magic and anyone helping them in any way; at least in the King's eyes were just as guilty as the sorcerers, warlocks and sorceress's out there. They would all burn together.

Arthur tore his gaze off of Merlin and looked at Gwen. His blue eyes were filled with regret and determination. He didn't necessarily want Merlin to go but there was no choice in the matter. The younger man had to go, for everyone's sakes.

"Guinevere, instruct Lancelot that he is to escort Merlin from the castle grounds and to see him safely to the borders of Camelot. Lancelot is to make sure that Merlin does not harm anyone." Arthur said, risking a glance back at the warlock as he said that.

Blackthorn



Blackthorn looked up quickly when he heard the swish of his tent flap. The young empath, Maire, was framed in the doorway, her skin pale and dark circles sat below her eyes like smudges of soot.

"Come in,come in," he said, waggling his eyebrows. "What can an old man do for such a lovely young girl as yourself? Sweet lavender perfume, perhaps? Maybe a love potion to capture the man of your dreams?" he grinned, running a hand down his chest.

It was concerning that the girl looked so tired. He knew about her powers and wondered what knowing everyone else's feelings would cost oneself. He plucked a few bay leaves and crushed them in his palm. The bittersweet smell filled the air in the tent, sending a relaxing scent balm through the space between them. "That's better," he said, folding his hands in front of him and settling carefully on a stool by the brazier.

"I saw you speaking with the witch and the hunter. It didn't look like good news. Has something bad happened in the camp? Does someone need my help?"