Burns Too Bright, Lives Too Fast

One warrior fell back and dropped on his arse. Loudly.

But no one dared to utter a word. After all, who knew who'd be next? ... George, as it turned out: he stumbled backwards and bounced his head off of the walls. And after him, whatshisname, the one with the-- something with an S?

All right, maybe Arthur wasn't entirely concerned with their names. After all, he'd never see most of these men again. "Worthless," he called, putting his foot down on Whatshisface's chest. "Honestly. And you came all this way to become knights? Surely that means several of you are all too used to hitting your heads and shaking whatever goes for minds inside there."

He pulled his foot off of Whatshisface's chest. The man panted loudly, unable to sit up.

"Clear out, you pathetic lot," he called. "Testing resumes tomorrow. If any of you haven't forfeited by then, I would hope you bring more skills to the table than you have displayed today."

The warriors scrambled out of the courtyard with varying levels of dignity. Arthur glanced at them only once - he knew this spectacle by now.

"I do love new potentials week," he sighed, pulling off his gloves as he entered the citadel.

[[ open for anyone who's here, phone calls, whatever! ]]

Arthur did not think this was a good idea. Not in the slightest. In fact, Merlin had received a Stern Talking To or twenty about not bloody well using his magic in public and inviting more witches over. He had not forgotten about what happened the last time, and he had learned his lessons.

As such, he had absolutely no clue how Merlin had managed to talk him into letting his friend Tara turn up anyway. Privately, he was starting to suspect sorcery.

But it was time, now. So Arthur had made Merlin saddle up the horses, and they had ridden out the gate for a 'hunting trip' that would not be pleasurable in either sense of the word. Ridden out into the woods to the one safe spot where portals occasionally could come through, gotten off the horses, and waited. It was lovely weather now, being the dawn of summer, and Arthur would have enjoyed it in most other circumstances.

Still. At least it wasn't Karla.

[[ for a wizard and then a witch, please! ]]

It had taken a while for Arthur's blood pressure to go down after that whole ... affair ... with the Witchfinder earlier this month. However, much to the knights' relief, the tension had worn off eventually, though not until after each and every one of them had gained a whole new world of new bruises.

But that had come and gone. Now, winter approached steadily, and it was up to Arthur to check once again that the subjects down in the Lower Town were adequately prepared for the cold. No doubt some would perish this winter, but with any luck it would remain this mild, and Gaius would not have to make too many journeys out.

They had plenty of food - that, at least, was working in their benefit. And so Arthur was perhaps a little relaxed as he walked through town with Merlin at his side, trading polite conversation.

... Because they ever managed polite conversation.

"When is the last time you bathed, Merlin?"

It was time to send the girls back home. They would have earlier, actually, but there'd been something strange in the air - according to Merlin, and sadly Arthur's experience in the magical arena was rather lacking, beyond the bit where wizards kept trying to kill him - and, well.

It didn't really matter. Nor did it matter that Arthur still didn't really want to let them go, but that wasn't anything he was going to admit to anyone, let alone to himself. Instead, he was going to stand back with a slight smile on his face, arms crossed.

"It's always good to know the two of you are still up to the same trouble," he said.

[[ for the three other people currently in Camelot. ]]

This was a horrible idea.

Arthur could attest to that much. Camelot wasn't exactly the safest place for two girls from Fandom-- for many reasons. But. Well. His thoughts had started to slow their wandering process back towards his mother's grave, but he was still feeling a little out of it, a little distant, and that made him antsy at the same time. He had no idea what to do with it all.

So it was easy to let Merlin field this, and to find up here: out in the woods where no patrol would find them, staring at the portal as it shaped itself between the trees, and waiting.

He shifted his feet, restless.

[[ for two girls and a boy. ]]

"So, we still haven't gotten to the matter of what you were thinking," Arthur said, ever so kindly, as he barged into Morgana's rooms. He'd been trying to reach her since the debacle last week, but Uther had fussed and Gwen had fussed and everyone in the bloody castle had fussed over Morgana when really, she'd earned a good shouting-at.

Which was exactly what Arthur did, given the chance. He yelled at her about running off like that, about running to the bloody druids - was she trying to get Uther to exterminate every remaining magic user in the kingdom? He yelled about safety and Merlin and couldn't she have just waited until they'd gotten back and maybe Merlin would have been able to help her--

And then there may, yes, have been some fussing.

Morgana, apparently, had magic.

Arthur, apparently, now had two people to lie for and to shelter.

Though maybe-- just maybe-- one day he could ease the idea of Morgana into father's mind. Maybe she was the thing he'd been hoping for, to change Uther's mind at last.

But it was a little early to risk it just yet.

"Don't," he said, at last, "Don't ever do that again."

He didn't stay and examine the expression on her face. He just left. He'd had to kill four druids last week, four brave men who stayed behind to distract the incoming army while their fellows fled (or so he assumed; the druids had broken their camp down well when he arrived, and all the better for it. There would be no awkward explanations to father.)

And four had been more than enough. More than too much, if you asked Arthur about it.

He wasn't planning on giving anyone the chance.

[[ alphabet soup goes here. ]]

It had taken them a day to ride from where the portal had dropped them off to the castle, and that was only fair: if nothing else, it limited the chances that they'd be caught. Having shot a deer along the way, Arthur was in good spirits, glad to be home, and perhaps a little happy to have seen his friends, after all.

That mood had shattered when he'd gotten off his horse in the courtyard - a guard had come to get him immediately, and he had been ushered into the throne room without much in the way of information as to why. Fear struck him: what if father had caught them in the lie? A thousand horrible possibilities flashed past his mind in an instant.

"Arthur."

Uther's expression was grim.

"Sire," Arthur returned, bowing deep. "You requested my presence?"

"Yes. I would ask you about the results of your journey, but a worse crisis has struck us." Arthur managed to feel relieved for all of a few seconds-- it quickly evaporated. "Lady Morgana has been taken from us. By all reports, it must be the druids. You will ride out immediately. Leave no stone unturned and no druid alive."

Arthur studiously forced down any reaction he might have had, though his eyes widened. "There are women and children in the druid camps in the area, from what our intelligence has managed to gather," he said.

"Their children will grow up to oppose Camelot, and the women are as ruthless as the men." Uther glared down at him, as if challenging him to oppose - for a moment, he thought of Sunday's conversation with Katchoo, and felt something sink like a stone in his belly. "We are not yet sure of the location of the druid camp that holds her. You will have to search the lower town, and take any druid sympathisers into custody."

Christ. He would have to make father see reason about the innocents involved-- in private. For now, though, he had a job to do. He bowed. "Sire," he said, formally, and spun on his heel, out of the throne room.

"You, you, and you," he ordered, pointing at some guards on his way out. "And Merlin. Come with me."

[[ for merlin, but ooc-okay! spoilers for Merlin 2x03 'The Nightmare Begins' in the comments. yes, we know we're doing these in crazy-order ]]

Arthur had fallen asleep not at all snuggling a pillow or getting spooned last night.

That would just be silly.

If that was the way he was spread out now, though, well, that was just a fluke of restless sleep. Face pressed into the pillow, pillow pressed to his chest, back pressed against scrawny manservant: check.

See, Arthur had been forewarned about the 'boys to girls off island' thing, but he'd always figured that if it happened to him, he'd know by the state of Merlin.

He'd figured wrong.

The morning had been spent in training, as it always was: it had been a mild day for Arthur, which meant most of the knights had come out of the ordeal relatively unscathed. After that, pouring over the fine print of some old treaty Uther was considering expanding on, and then making certain their grain reserves were still full enough, and then...

Honestly, it was like Francine and Katchoo had never even been here, let alone Katrina.

Arthur had sent Merlin out to get some boots mended. It wouldn't be long now before the boy returned-- in a fit of sentimentality, Arthur had ordered another servant to bring an especially large lunch upstairs with surplus honeycakes. Watching Merlin tear into some food would be a charming enough respite from all the bloody scrolls he was forced to go through right now...

God, but did Arthur hate paperwork.

[[ for that guy! ETA: slightly NWS ]]