My apologies for the super long wait on this. Life caught up with me. I promise to be better about this!

Love…Protect…Cherish. An eternal heart. For her. For Always. Sophia. Love… Protect…Cherish…

His mind seemed as if it were stuck in a haze. If he had known any better, he'd say it was as if he were stuck in a dream, but even dreams had more sense than this, didn't they? He tried to remember the last time he had trained, or that he had spoken with his father, or that he had teased his friends, but no, all that his mind would supply was Sophia. Beautiful, wondrous Sophia. Arthur struggled to fight the pull, but his thoughts disappeared like tendrils of smoke drifting into the wind as he slunk back into the hazy fog that was his mind, the force pulling him back in too strong to fight.

Love…Protect…Cherish.

If there was a dry piece of her hair left, she was sure that it would have been standing on end, the power around her was so charged. But no, every last strand was drenched in one type of juicy filth or the other - whether it be from the grungy sweat from the morning's training with the knights (imagine her surprise at being told she would train with or without the prince) or the remains of rotting produce from her brief visit to the stocks. Never…again, Merilyn thought grouchily to herself, holding her breath against the stench that was most definitely coming from her person. She didn't care what sob story the prince came up with next, but there was no way she was going to take the fall for him again, prince or no. It wasn't just the nastiness of the situation - being covered with filth wasn't ideal but she could deal with that. No, it was the jesting from the knights as they passed by on their way to and from the bath house, taunting her with the mere thoughts of being clean when she was the furthest from it. On top of that, quite frankly, she wasn't a fan of being seen as an idiot, as in both instances her excuses for the missing prince had revolved entirely around her supposed inability to keep up with her master's duties. So the next time that prat decides to run off from his responsibilities, I swear he won't even see it coming.

As soon as she got through the door to her shared chambers, Merilyn immediately began mumbling spell after spell to clean herself as she dipped her hair directly into the nearby pail of freezing water. What I wouldn't give for a nice hot bath, she thought as she ran her fingers through the strands, the though further riling up her ire against the prince.

"Surely not again, Merilyn?" the physician queried from somewhere at the far side of the room.

"You would think," she began, picking what she hoped was a tomato from her hair, "that pelting a person with rotted vegetables and fruit would grow old after a while. But, apparently, everyone loves it. It never fails. Every time I'm in the stocks, there's a crowd fully equipped with baskets filled the brim with some rot or another. Do you think they keep baskets to the side, wasting precious foods just at the thought that they could use it against me?"

She heard a huff from behind her. "It's the scraps, Merilyn, and if you'd keep from landing yourself in the stocks in the first place, it wouldn't even be an issue. I'd heard that Arthur wasn't at the knighting ceremony." A rag appeared in her vision, being placed next to the pail.

Merilyn flipped her hair back, using the rag to collect the extra water. She shrugged as she responded, "yeah, he wanted to spend what time he could with Sophia."

Gaius shook his head in disapproval. "You shouldn't have done that. I fear that Sophia may not be all that she appears."

"Oh, I'm getting that. Definitely getting that. I swear the next time that ponce wants me to help him…" She frowned, a lone brow rising as she turned to glance at Gaius, "wait…what about Sophia?"

The old man took a seat at the table and motioned for her to do as well. "Have you heard or read anything on seers?"

She shrugged as she took her seat, continuing to use the rag to sop up the remaining water on her hair. "A little here and there. Sometimes they have visions, sometimes dreams. The tome has mentioned occasionally that sometimes what they 'see' is more feeling than anything else, like feeling what others feel; whereas others see prophecies, and those visions are what could come to pass. Seems a tad unreliable, honestly. How are you to tell what is dream and what is prophecy? And are those prophecies set in stone or can they be changed?" Gaius simply stared at her, her expression either in surprise or in speculation. Merilyn really couldn't tell which. "What? You gave me the book. Did you actually expect me not to read it?"

He simply shook his head. "It's said that it is an innate ability. Those who have the skill were born with it, and it's not something that can be learned, so Seers were typically well sought after. Before the purge, of course. They themselves aren't always aware of what they see."

Merilyn chewed thoughtfully on a chunk of bread that had been left sitting out on the table, and despite the stale taste, her stomach gurgled in appreciation. "While the topic is rather enthralling, what brought this up?"

The old man leaned forward onto the table, his hands grasped together, and an expression of seriousness on his face. "Now, this doesn't not leave this room, Merilyn." The young woman nodded. "The night before Sophia and Aulfric arrived in Camelot, Morgana had a dream. And Sophia was in it."

Merilyn stopped chewing. "Really? Before they arrived in Camelot?"

Gaius nodded. "I've been watching the Lady Morgana ever since she was a young child. She's always comes to me with complaints of terrible nightmares and strange dreams. Though I've tried to convince myself otherwise, I realized that some of the things she had described to me had come to pass exactly as she had envisioned. I've kept this from Uther, of course. The gift of prophecy is too close to the work of magic. I hate to think how he would've reacted to have found out that his own ward had some magical ability."

"So you think that Morgana is a Seer, then?"

He grimaced and looked at her solemnly. "I don't think it, child, I fear it. If her dream is accurate, then Sophia will murder the prince."

Her eyes rounded with the shock she experienced from his words, but then it passed, and Merilyn simply shrugged. "That's assuming that her dreams were more than just that, dreams. Couldn't the woman that Morgana saw just looked similar to Sophia? I mean, don't get me wrong here, Sophia isn't exactly on the list of people I adore right now, and as much as I would like to assume the worst of her, I don't think I could do that based on just a dream that Morgana had that may or may not be prophetic."

"And I get that, Merilyn, I do, but there's more. Aulfric caught me in their quarters earlier." The young woman smirked back at the physician. "Don't give me that look, I was trying to find some kind of evidence to disprove Morgana's claims. Instead I found runes from the old language inscribed on one of their staffs and when Aulfric caught me, his eyes turned to a bright red in his anger. Not gold, like your own, but red."

"Red? Gaius, who do you think they are?"

Worry made itself apparent in his tone. "It's not whom they are that worries me, it's what they may want with Arthur."

Merilyn pushed herself up from the table with a sense of urgency, dropping the rag next to the bucket as she turned towards the door. "Then let's figure out what that is."

How he had gotten back to the palace, he wasn't sure. The day kept appearing to suddenly jump from one part to the next, with nothing in between but the dreamy daze where he was constantly focused Sophia. Sophia. It was as if nothing else mattered, and that nothing else would ever matter again. He couldn't be separated from her and wouldn't dream of it, and yet there were tiny thoughts that fought to get past the haze that wanted to know what the hell was going on.

Soft fingers traced his chin and he looked down. Oh yes, the beautiful Sophia.

"Our love is strong, is it not?" her sweet voice asked of him, tinkling lightly through the fog. "I couldn't bear it if we were to be parted."

His voice escaped so softly from his lips that even he had a hard time hearing it, or believing that the words wear actually falling through his lips. "I would never let that happen." His fingers grasped hers, brushing against the blonde stubble of his cheek.

Sophia's eyes seemed to look frantically up at him, her hold strong on his hand, her pulse fluttering against his face. "You may not have a choice. There are some here that will force us apart."

"No one can come between us." Arthur hazily brought her hand to his lips, turning it lightly against the flesh of his lips as he trailed soft kisses against her fingers, her hand, and eventually, her wrist. Sophia. He leaned his head into her hand as it cupped his jaw once more, breathing in the enthralling scent of her skin, which only seemed to cause the haze to thicken.

"Because we are in love?" the tinkling voice asked of him.

"Because we are in love," he affirmed, whispering the promise into her skin.

The fragrance overwhelmed him, the sensation of her skin on his only made the mantra in his mind grow stronger. Love…protect…cherish. He dimly noted her nodding urgently, so focused he was on the contact of his hand on hers, and the scent that enveloped him. "Then you must seek permission for us to get married. So that we can be together."

In the haze Arthur felt himself nod in agreement. "Until death do us part."

"Yes, Arthur," she responded, the silken skin of her lips just barely touching his as she lightly kissed him. "Tuce hwon fre'ure, artur." So deep into the haze was he that he couldn't rightly react to the kiss, and he barely even noticed that language that spilled from her mouth.

'What kind of language is that?', one of those tiny thoughts that fought to escape the boundary of the haze, was all that passed through his mind before he dipped into the dreamlike state once more.

She had been on her way to check on the prince for the last time that night when she had come around the corner to Arthur's chamber and had seen Sophia and Aulfric conversing in hushed whispers outside his door. The buzzing she had dealt with the day prior came back swiftly, causing her suspicions to increase drastically. As Aulfric turned to leave, her decision had been made for her. She had to find out what was going on.

It took every bit of her focus to stay cloaked as she followed the old man out of the castle and into the forest. The mage had silenced the sound of her boots and willed herself transparent, to reduce the risk of raising any suspicions as she was trailed so closely behind Aulfric. Even then, it took a tremendous amount of care to ensure that she didn't trip or startle any wildlife or do any other thing that would give her position away as she crept as best as she could through the forest. Merilyn made note to pay better attention the next time she was to train with the men.

Exhaustion began to war at her mind, her magic protesting it's use for so long, when Aulfric finally stopped his trek, stepping onto the sandy shores of a great lake. A soft sigh of relief escaped Merilyn's lips as she released her magic, crouching quietly at the roots of a nearby tree, allowing her body the reprieve it wanted as she leaned against the trunk. Keeping to the shadows under the leafy cover of the great oak, she peeked around its trunk to watch Aulfric. The pale moon sparkled on the dark water, its light alighting everything in a grayish hue, casting shadows from the old man's cloak and staff into sharp relief. A soft wind swept across the water and the branches of nearby trees swayed lightly in the breeze of the night. Some of the wind seemingly wrapped itself around the old man, almost in welcome, and his robes fluttered around him. The spark of magic not her own tickled against her skin, causing Merilyn to stiffen against the bark of the oak, adrenaline waring with her exhaustion as she tried to stay alert.

His booming voice permeated the night air, shocking her in its suddenness. "I seek audience with the Sidhe elders! Do tiag-sa ar ibairt do denam!" Small sparks of light immediately flashed into existence, appearing to float over the lake. They fluttered through the air and Merilyn could almost see…are those wings? A flash of gold permeated her sight, the telltale sign of her magic, and time seemed to slow down and her eyes were able to focus. Those ARE wings. Pallid translucent wings flittered behind small elf-like bodies that were ashen green in appearance. Fierce expressions graced the faces of each and every flickering fairy, enough to cause unease to join Merilyn's adrenaline fueled alertness as the buzzing sensation that had been plaguing her around Aulfric and Sophia grew to insurmountable proportions. Her head felt as if it were close to splitting as the throbbing of the headache she had had the day prior made itself known once more.

Aulfric's voice interrupted the stillness of the night once again, "I come before you to plead for the chance to win entry back into Avalon and to earn back the life of immortality."

An older looking fairy hovered before the old man, his sinister voice causing shivers to run down Merilyn's spine. "Your punishment for killing another Sidhe is a mortal body and a mortal life. You will never again be allowed admittance into Avalon."

Aulfric appeared to lean wearily against his staff. "The crime was mine, not my daughter's."

"The gates of Avalon remain closed to your child. Unless you offer up the soul of a mortal prince, then they will never open for her. This is the price she must pay to atone for your sins."

The old man's head bowed in reverence before the fairy, his voice pleading. "That is all I ask for, that my daughter have an immortal life is all that I desire. You have my vow that you will get the soul of the greatest prince there has ever been. Arthur Pendragon!"

As the fairies disappeared into the crisp night air, Merilyn's heart pounded as astonishment coursed through her, seeming to sear in her blood as it followed the unease that coursed through her. Perhaps Gaius was right, she thought, her attention waning as her worries plagued her mind, accidentally snapping a twig under her foot and pulling her from her reverie. Aulfric quickly turned towards the sound, towards Merilyn, and it was by a stroke of luck that she willed herself hidden once more, the pull of her magic adding to the throbbing in her head. After a few moments of silence, Merilyn staying shrouded in her magic in the shadow of the oak, Aulfric seemed to decide that the sound was nothing and began to trek back in the direction of the city. Merilyn stayed put for but a minute more, her mind racing as to what she was going to do with this new information.

"A lake?" Gaius asked, his back to the girl as he searched through shelf upon shelf of books. "Avalon. That must have been what you saw. It has to be."

"What's…" Merilyn began to ask.

Gaius was already pulling a tome from its dusty home and leafing through its pages. "It's the land of eternal youth. Mortals are only supposed to glimpse it in the moment before death. That you were able to see it at all is a miracle in itself. What I would have given to have seen that." The rustling of paper as he looked through the tome accompanied his steps back down to the table.

Merilyn looked at the physician warily as she rubbed her neck, "I'm not so sure about that, Gaius. My head is still throbbing from all of that magic."

The physician nodded in sympathy, and glanced down to the vial he had placed in front of her when she had first returned. "That should help your pains." She nodded in thanks before taking notice of his urgent expression, curiosity sparking in the old man's eyes. "But what did it look like?"

"Gaius. Does it truly matter right now? I promise I'll write out a full description of it for you later, but we really need to focus on figuring out what to do. They're going to sacrifice Arthur and we not even sure what they are yet."

"Actually, we do" Gaius replied, sitting down with the old book at his table, pointing to the writing on the page before him. Merilyn peeked over his shoulder. "The runes on Aulfric's staff? They were written in Ogham, one of the old languages. 'Abas ocus bithe. Duthectad bithlane.' It means 'to hold life and death in your hands.' I would say that, based off the writing on his staff and what you saw at the lake, I'm now certain that we're dealing with the Sidhe."

The young woman sighed. "That doesn't exactly sound like a good thing."

Gaius nodded in agreement. "That's because they're masters of enchantment. And not exactly known for their niceties."

"And to get Arthur's soul, they must have him under an enchantment. How else would he be so enthralled?"

Worried eyes met her own. "I'm afraid Morgana's dream is coming true."

Mine. Love. Protect. Cherish.

That luxurious scent had him enthralled as Arthur took a deep breath, his nose trailing across the bared skin of her bosom, his lips and hands quickly following his ascent up her body. A nipple puckered under the tracing of his fingers, goosebumps speckled the flesh as his tongue darted out to taste. The skin against his mouth seemed to sizzle, driving him to try to taste as much of her as he could possibly bear.

Mine. My Sophia.

The haze enveloped him, her tinkling voiced muttering incomprehensible syllables as his arm wrapped around her, bringing her body as close to his as humanly possible, the flesh of her breasts sliding enticingly across the muscles of his chest as she moved against him. Red eyes met red, skin met skin, and mouth met mouth.

Love. Protect.

Tingling shot down the line of his spine with each thrust, her warmth enveloping him in such a way that he'd thought as if he'd never felt this way before, and virginal he was not. She was tight around him, each movement causing pleasure to shoot through him, in time with the tingling that danced along his spine and along his skin. The haze beckoned to him, entrancing his mind in a show of sparkling light in his mind. Come, the tinkling voice said within his mind, inviting him to finish in his pleasure, and let us be bound forever.

And with a great shudder, grasping at the flesh before him as the haze overtook his mind, it was over.

The buzzing was unbearable, almost to the point that it felt that the magic within her was causing her bones to rattle, if such a thing were possible. Her skin itched all over, and the sensation caused her anxiety to run rampant within her as she rushed through the castle, strands fluttering around her face at the speed at which she sprinted. Marriage? The thought alone was enough to cause her to pause, but that was a though for later times and she knew that this was just the next step in the sidhe's plan. If they can get him to leave, they'll have him. They must be trying to find a way to bind him. To get his soul. But how? Her thoughts raced as quickly as she did, until she finally slid to a stop before the prince's chamber, and burst through its doors.

The sight before her caused her breath to still as gleaming red eyes turned her way, a repugnant smirk flashing across Sophia's face as her hips ground against the body below her, waves of magic rolling off of her with each bout of motion, her thighs clenching as she moved. And Arthur? Deft hands were grasping at her skin, meeting her thrust for thrust, his expression distant as he gazed blankly at Sophia.

"Stop!" Merilyn shouted, thrusting her magic towards Sophia, but it simply rolled off of her, hitting a barrier around the sidhe. A manic grin reached Sophia's lips as she glared at Merilyn, and sped up her tempo. Arthur seemed unaware of Merilyn as she threw volley upon volley of magic at the barrier - fire, sparks, energy, everything she could conjure without muttering a spell - in hopes of stopping the binding, as this was surely the last step of the sidhe's magic. This was how they would get his soul. But the magic simple vanished into nothingness as soon as it hit the boundary around Sophia, sapping the energy from Merilyn as she fought it. And then, a stuttered groan escaped from the lips of the prince, and a wave of intense magic struck out from the pair, the signaling of the sidhe's binding, causing Merilyn to crumple to the stone floor.

Don't kill me. Please.