A/N: This is going to follow the episode… until it doesn't.

Royally Disired – part 2

I held her gaze a moment longer, then turned and followed my king.

I rushed down the hillside to the place where Arthur and Percival supported Mordred, only about half-conscious as I swiftly inspected the wound as best I could through the layer of chainmail.

"How is he?" Arthur demanded.

"It's not a simple wound. Sorcery's involved." It was happening again, just as the dragon said. You had a chance – if you have another…

"Is there anything you can do?"

I didn't immediately answer. You must not fail. Finally I said, "This is beyond my skills, sire." It was the truth, insofar as Arthur was aware of my skills. Without magic, I could do nothing for Mordred. And I was surrounded by the king and half a dozen knights. How could I use magic? I said, "We need to get him back to Camelot."

"That's a long and arduous journey," Arthur protested. "What if he doesn't survive it?"

"Look. I fear that Gaius is the only one that can save him." I cannot, I cannot! Even if I cannot kill him, I cannot save him either!

Arthur nodded, looked up at the other knights standing in a circle around the three of them. "Mount up. We ride for Camelot."

That night, Mordred was placed next to the campfire. As I knelt to lay my hand on the druid boy's forehead to check him for fever from infection, Arthur said, "He grows worse." He was seated somewhat separate from the group, nearer to the youngest knight than any other.

"There has been little change," I said, then stood and began to move away.

"I should never have let him come," Arthur said.

I stopped – one of Arthur's weaknesses was a tendency to blame himself when things went wrong. "He wanted to prove himself," I reminded the king.

"And he has." Arthur studied Mordred. "He saved my life for the second time."

He looked down on his friend, gazing with remorse and gratitude at the one I had foreseen plunging a sword deep into Arthur's body, taking the life he had just saved.

I couldn't help but think, I have lost count of how many times. Silently, I crouched down to keep Arthur company in his self-imposed vigil.

…..*….. …..*….. …..*….. …..*….. …..*…..

Gaius and Arthur sat over Mordred, bandaged and unconscious on the patient cot in the old physician's chamber, Gaius on a bench and Arthur, still in full armor, on a stool opposite. I sat by the window.

Gaius removed his hand from Mordred's forehead. "Merlin is right," he said. "This is no ordinary wound. There is magic at play."

Arthur leaned forward on his knees. "Can you save him?"

"I'm but a physician," Gaius answered. "There are limits to my knowledge."

Arthur shook his head, unwilling to take no for an answer. "But there must be something that can be done."

"Perhaps. I shall do everything in my power, sire."

Arthur stood. "Let me know the moment he improves. Or…"

Gaius understood what he could not say, and promised, "I shall." He looked at me as the door closed behind the king. "Only your magic can save him, Merlin."

I didn't move. I couldn't look away from Mordred's body. "I cannot save the life of a man destined to kill Arthur."

"If Mordred is destined to take the king's life," Gaius questioned gently, "then why has he just saved it?"

"I cannot ignore what the dragon said."

Gaius sat back, crossed his arms. "What happened to the young boy who came into my chambers just a few years ago?" he asked.

I met his eyes for the first time. That was unfair, I thought. "He grew up," I said. "And he learned the meaning of duty."

Later, I followed the old physician to Arthur's quarters. "Yes?" Arthur said in answer to Gaius' quick rap on the door. I followed my mentor inside, where the king waited hopefully, Gwen behind him at the window.

"Sire." Gaius bowed, clasped his hands together in front of him.

"Is there any news?" Arthur asked. I closed the door behind us, and the king's face fell at the unmistakable meaning of our silence. "I thought that once we got him back to Camelot, in your care –"

"The staff that caused the wound was forged using powerful sorcery," Gaius said.

"All the same –"

"The poison that runs through his veins is beyond remedy."

"There must be," Arthur paused, "something you can do." I wondered if he'd suggest using magic, as he had when it was Uther that lay dying.

"I'm afraid not," Gaius answered. "Only the Disir themselves have the power to counteract their own sorcery. I'm afraid we must prepare ourselves for the worst."

"I'll go to them," Arthur said suddenly.

"Sire, I do not think that –"

Arthur continued, "And beg for mercy." He transferred his attention to me. "Prepare the horses. We leave at once."

I regained my presence of mind just in time to open the door of Arthur's chamber for the king to pass through. Not an hour later, we rode out, the two of us. Rode hard, without speaking until once again we were entering the grove on foot.

"Why do you risk so much for one man?" I asked, desperate and tired.

"I'd do the same for any knight," Arthur declared.

"Though obviously," I added, somewhat curious, "not me."

"Actually I would," Arthur corrected me. "Servants are hard to come by, even the bad ones."

"I'm touched." I ducked under a branch.

"Mordred saved my life," Arthur said. "What greater debt can there be?"

"A debt to your people," I reminded him. "To your destiny."

"You almost sound as if you care," Arthur said.

"I do care. About who you are, Arthur, who you are destined to become." If it was anyone but Mordred, I thought ironically, I'd be hurrying Arthur along to bargain for their life.

"It's fated," Arthur said. "It doesn't matter what I do. It'll still happen."

That sounded familiar. I said, desperately, my mouth dry, "There's a different between fate and destiny." I came alongside Arthur as he stopped.

"You think too much, Merlin," Arthur told me. "The situation's quite simple. A brother-in-arms saves my life. When he in turn is threatened, it's my duty to do all I can to save him."

The cave was before us, too soon to suit me. Arthur stopped, unsheathed his sword, laid it down on a mossy rock next to him. I looked at him. "I'm not totally insensitive, Merlin," Arthur said. "I can see that some people feel that this is a sacred place. I'm even prepared to admit that you're right sometimes. Obviously, I'll deny ever saying that."

"Obviously," I repeated in a murmur, following.

Making our way through the tunnel toward the main cavern, we were both careful to touch none of the hanging wooden figures.

"Arthur Pendragon," the central figure greeted them. "King of Camelot."

"We have been expecting you," one of the others added.

Arthur – extraordinarily – knelt. "My men and I behaved with arrogance and stupidity. We dishonored this place and insulted your faith. And I humbly beg your forgiveness. One amongst us, Sir Mordred, may yet pay the ultimate price. I've come here to petition you for his life."

"Why should we help you?" one of the women asked.

"I ask not for myself but for a young man whose only crime was to sacrifice himself for his king," Arthur pointed out. Respectfully.

"The future holds much pain and suffering for you, Arthur Pendragon," he was told.

"For you and your people."

"If you wish to save all you hold dear."

"If you wish to save your kingdom."

"Embrace the old religion."

"Learn her ways."

"Bow to the goddess."

He said quietly, "You know I can't do that."

"Consider carefully," the figure in the middle told him. "You have until dawn."

…..*….. …..*….. …..*….. …..*….. …..*…..

I returned to their campsite with an armful of wood. "How did you know this place was sacred?" Arthur asked me. He was reclining on the ground, head back to look up at the stars, knees pulled up.

"That's obvious," I said, laying down my burden next to the fire.

"Pretend it isn't," Arthur told me.

"Everything here," I said, looking around. "So full of life. Every tree. Every leaf. Every insect." I couldn't help the little smile that came to my face, even when Arthur raised his head to stare at me. "It's as if the world is – vibrating. As if everything is much more than itself."

Arthur said, "You feel all that?"

"Don't you?" I said curiously, and Arthur shook his head. My smile slipped – do nothing to arouse suspicion, I reminded myself, and retreated to my place opposite, resting on the ground. "What will you do?" I asked him.

Arthur shifted. "I don't know. My heart says do anything I can to save Mordred. But I've seen what misery unfettered sorcery brings. Before my father outlawed magic, Camelot was almost destroyed by sorcery. In my own time, Morgana's used it for nothing but evil." Arthur paused, then added, "What would you do? In my place?"

"Me?" I said. "I'm just a lackey, a maker of beds."

"Lackeys can be wise." I tried to speak, and couldn't. In truth, I didn't know what to say. Here, in this place, if I once got started, I was afraid the whole truth about my magic would come spilling out. Arthur observed, "It's not like you to be silent."

"The kingdom's future is at stake," I managed. And yours. And mine.

"And a man's life," Arthur reminded me, bringing the question once more to the fate of the druid boy, ivy intertwined with the king.

"You must protect Camelot. You must protect the world you have spent your life building. A just and fair kingdom for all." I thought, distantly, that I sounded something like Gaius, speaking in generalizations when he did not want to be pinned down on a direct answer.

"You'd have me sacrifice a friend?" Arthur persisted.

A friend, or an enemy? "I would have you become the king you're destined to be."

Arthur sat forward. "If I do save Mordred, all my father's work will be for nothing. Sorcery will reign once more in Camelot. Is that what you'd want?"

My heart pounded. I had trouble breathing. Reign, no. But live, yes.

"Perhaps my father was wrong," Arthur said, thinking out loud. "Perhaps the old ways aren't as evil as we thought. So what should we do?" I felt tears start to my eyes. I bit my lip and didn't answer. "Accept magic? Or let Mordred die?" Arthur finished.

I couldn't believe it had come to this. What wouldn't I give to be having this conversation under any other circumstances? Where I'd be free to pour out my heart and encourage Arthur to do the right thing. Free those who wished to follow the old religion, that placed no restrictions on the rest.

But then there was Mordred. You must not fail. If you have another chance, you must not fail.

I opened my mouth to say, There can be no place for magic in Camelot, and found I couldn't. Here, in the sacred grove, my magic humming in my veins in tune to the life all around, much more than itself, I could not utter the lie. Instead I muttered, "Why don't we sleep on it?"

Arthur sat back, a strange thoughtful look on his face.

…..*….. …..*….. …..*….. …..*….. …..*…..

I steeled myself, gritted my teeth against the clamor of magic in my ears, and told Arthur firmly, "There can be no place for magic in Camelot."

We made our way once again to the cave, once again leaving Arthur's blade behind. And stood before the three.

"You have returned," the central figure observed. "Is your decision made?"

"It is," Arthur answered. "I cannot do as you ask. I've seen too much to allow sorcery again within Camelot."

"You have made your decision."

"Sealed your fate."

"And that of your kingdom." Together they said, "Farewell, Arthur Pendragon."

We rode through the sunny field approaching the castle as we had so many times in the past. The bells tolled as we reached the courtyard and dismounted. Arthur handed his reins to an attendant and turned, but stopped. I looked up – and my dream became a nightmare.

Mordred stood at the top of the stair, wearing his chainmail armor, his red knight's cape, and his own enigmatic smile. Strong and well.

My heart dropped.

Arthur strode forward as Mordred hurried down the stairs. The two clasped hands, embraced joyfully.

How could I have been so stupid?

I stood with Gaius in an upstairs corridor, looking down through the window upon the training green, where Arthur was sparring with the young druid boy once again. "I assumed the best way to protect Arthur was to kill Mordred," I said.

"A perfectly natural assumption," Gaius said, attempting to reassure me.

I was having none of it. "But all I did was to make sure he lived. That was the Disir's judgment. Mordred's life is Arthur's punishment for rejecting magic."

"You mustn't blame yourself," Gaius said.

"But it is my fault. Mordred is alive and well. He's free to play his part in Arthur's death and there's nothing I can do to prevent it. Nothing."

…..*….. …..*….. …..*….. …..*….. …..*…..

I woke, gasping, drowning, for a moment, in the excess of magic-infused life in the grove. Beside me, the fire popped, sparked, and Arthur shifted in his sleep. I watched my hands tremble, and forced myself to lay back. That was it, then. A question answered.

I took a deep breath, then another, and relaxed by inches. Now the way was clear. Now I knew what the answer was, and what I must do. I closed my eyes on the living, breathing darkness and went back to sleep.

Arthur kicked the soles of my boots. "When you said we should sleep on it, Merlin, I didn't know you intended to sleep all morning," the king said.

I stretched, feeling more worn and drawn than I had when I'd fallen asleep. "Well, it worked," I said. "I have an answer for you. Accept the magic. Do as the Disir say."

Arthur studied me, the same thoughtful measuring look on his face. "Any particular reason for your choice?" he asked.

Yes! I have magic! I am magic! I sat up as Arthur sat down. I hesitated, not knowing quite how to say what I was thinking without insulting Arthur's father, or making the issue personal to myself. A light breeze flowed down the little valley, like the cool little stream where Lancelot had once placed me to be healed by the vilia. Stream… river…

"Magic and sorcery are – not the same thing," I said. Arthur's eyes narrowed, but he twirled his finger as an indication for me to continue. "Magic is a fact, a force – sorcery is what is done with it. Do you see? Magic is like a river, in some places deep or shallow, clear or murky. It can be dangerous, it can be life-giving. A sorcerer – uses the magic, the actions and motivations as good or evil as any other person's. The decisions your father made acted as a – dam upon the river. It isn't gone. It's simply formed a reservoir, waiting to be used. You've seen the spillage, if you will, the resentful, the vengeful…"

"You would have me tear down the dam?" Arthur said, arching one eyebrow. "You know the damage that can do, even in a metaphor?"

"No, of course not," I said. "Just – maybe – a slow, careful dismantling? Freedom within limits? I mean, sorcerers are just people, too – subject to laws and decrees."

"There is wisdom in that," Arthur said, nodding.

I joked, "Lackeys can be wise."

"Come," Arthur said. "Let's give them our decision."

Our decision. I felt a warmth inside that had nothing to do with my magic or the grove.

"I accept the terms you placed upon my petition for the life of Sir Mordred," Arthur told the Disir. "I embrace the old religion. I bow to the goddess. I will learn her ways."

"Camelot will stand," we were told. "Your reign will be long."

I thought, somewhat defiantly, Pleasure doing business with you.

We rode through the sunny field approaching the castle as we had so many times in the past. The bells tolled as we reached the courtyard and dismounted. Arthur handed his reins to an attendant and turned, but stopped. I looked up – and my dream became a nightmare.

Gaius stood alone at the top of the stairs, stern and solemn. "What's wrong, Gaius?" Arthur called. "Where is Mordred?"

Gaius descended the stairs. "Sir Mordred worsened early this morning," he told them. "He breathed his last over five hours ago."

"He is dead?" Arthur repeated, astonished. I drew in what seemed like my first free breath since we'd left for the fortress of Ismere, so many months ago.

Gaius nodded. "I regret that you –"

Arthur interrupted by whirling around on me, one gloved finger pointing in my face, the king's eyes blazing with a fury rarely seen. "This is all your doing," he hissed. "I never should have trusted them. Witches! Evil, and false and treacherous! My father was right about sorcery! There will be no changes - the laws and the ban will stand. And you –" his eyes seemed to bore a hole right through me – "you will never mention the subject to me again, are we clear?"

I opened my mouth to say something, what I did not know – Mordred was destined to kill you, his death ensures your life! Keep the bargain, I beg you! – and Arthur backhanded me across the face.

"Keep your silence," the king ordered me in a stony voice. "And keep your place."

Shocked, l looked at Gaius, but the old man had his head bowed, his eyes down, as if he had seen nothing.

…..*….. …..*….. …..*….. …..*….. …..*…..

Arthur put out his hand again to pat my cheek. "Merlin," he said. "Merlin!"

I found myself on my back on the ground, the smell of woodsmoke and earth all around, Arthur kneeling over me, magic swirling in a confusion of excess. Startled and expecting another blow, I attempted to shuffle away from Arthur on my back.

"Easy." Arthur held up both hand to show they were empty, straightening. "You had nightmares, too?" he asked in a sardonic tone, but he looked as tired as I felt. I sat up slowly. Arthur stood, hands on his hips, staring in the direction of the cave. "You know, Merlin, it occurs to me that neither choice is a good one."

I snorted. "Maybe they're not supposed to be," I said. Maybe the choice was a trap. Not too late to find the true path, redeem yourself, Osgar had said. The future has many paths, seeing is not the same as knowing, Gaius had said. And Kilgarrah, the future is never clear, there are many paths, not all lead to Camelot's ruin.

The trick was finding the right path.

Arthur swung around to give me a look from those piercing blue eyes. "You mean it might be more like a riddle than a choice?" he said. "What should I say?"

Or the illusion of a choice. I remembered the images I'd seen of Morgana in the Crystal Cave. None of my choices had prevented those images coming to pass, and yet – it had not ended with Uther's death, as I had thought, though that image had never been explicit, had it?

"Say – whatever is in your heart," I blurted. "Whatever you believe, whatever is right. Whatever is best for – for Camelot."

Arthur stood staring at me as if astonished I could put two words together in a coherent sentence. Or as if he was seeing me clearly for the first time. Then he looked toward the cave with new determination. "Come, Merlin," he said, and I scrambled up the path behind him.

Once again, Arthur left his sword at the entrance to the cave, and once again, both of us made our way cautiously and respectfully along the passage to the cavern.

"You have returned," the central figure observed. "Is your decision made?"

"It is. I cannot do as you ask."

I found I was trembling with the tension.

"Consider carefully, Arthur Pendragon."

"This is your last chance to save all that is dear to you."

"It will not come again."

Arthur straightened. "I cannot embrace the old religion. I will not learn the old ways. I will not bow to the goddess. But I will not stop others who wish to do so – peacefully. I have not changed much in the laws of Camelot since I have become king, but I can and I will review what laws may be considered – harsh or unfair. I will allow no evil…but I can re-evaluate what is considered evil. More I cannot do. I am king of Camelot, and I cannot bow to the whims of any group of people because they hold the life of one of my knights in their hands."

Arthur took a deep breath, and I found that with all I had to be proud of him for, over our years together, I was never more proud than that moment.

"You have made your decision," said the figure in the middle, after a moment.

"Sealed your fate."

"And that of your kingdom." Together they said, "Farewell, Arthur Pendragon."

I gestured, and Arthur was caught out of time, motionless as he began to turn away on his heel.

The woman on the left hissed, "You dare use your magic in this place?"

The one on the right said, "Our place?"

The woman in the middle said, "Hello, Emrys."

"Emrys?"

"Emrys."

"You support his decision, Emrys?"

"You follow his leading?"

"Against your own kind?" said the woman on the left.

"Arthur is just and fair," I said, my heart in my throat. "I believe in him. He is making changes, you just heard him. He is not Uther –" and where was the rune mark Uther Pendragon deserved? Decades he was left to rule, a bloody tyrant overseeing the Purge and its aftermath - "he does not persecute those with magic. But to accept magic back wholeheartedly – it is too soon, for Uther's son. Please –" I stepped forward, doing my utmost to be respectful, when I wanted to rant against the unfairness of their choice. "Please, a little more time."

"Time, Emrys, is something you will have plenty of."

"Whether your king has it, or not."

"Now, or hereafter."

I said again, "Please."

There was a moment of silence. Then the figure in the middle said, "The judgment will be held in abeyance."

"For a time."

"Only a time."

"How long do we have?" I asked, daring to feel hope.

"That is a question with three answers," the woman in the middle said. "You need concern yourself with only one."

"Your answer."

"Your time."

"A season for you, and for your king. One half of the year, son of magic."

"Could you be," I said delicately, "a little more specific, about what I need to accomplish in that time?"

"Revelation."

"Assume your identity."

"Tell him your name!" hissed the figure on the left.

"I have six months to tell Arthur I have magic?" I said, aghast.

"He will accept you –"

"Or he will not."

"And seal his doom."

"And – Mordred?" I dared.

"His life…"

"His fate…"

"His time is not in your hands," the central woman said. "Each to his own choices. Yours have bought you time."

"Six months."

"Half a year. Time – and Arthur."

The woman in the middle raised her head slightly, enough to meet my eyes, and Arthur completed his turn. "Come, Merlin," he said.

Goodbye, Emrys.

Six months. As a reprieve, it wasn't much. But it was something. I stumbled after Arthur, out of the cave, into the light.

A/N: As a two-shot, I believe this can stand alone. But it may just connect with another similar fic I have in mind, concerning episode 5.13. I intend to title that one, "The Day in Crystal."