Burns Too Bright, Lives Too Fast

The past two days had not gone well.

First, Morgana and Guinevere had departed to visit the grave of Morgana's father, a ritual she embarked on every year. But then she had failed to return after a day - far longer than she usually took. So Arthur had taken Merlin and a contingent of soldiers with him to find her.

They had found a great deal of bodies, some startled horses, and Morgana, bedraggled and frightened.

But no Guinevere.

Not that this mattered much to Arthur's father.

"I am so pleased to see you here in one piece," Uther said, and touched Morgana's cheek.

"My maid," she said, "Gwen. She risked her life to let me escape - we have to rescue her!"

"Absolutely not."

Arthur felt a headache swelling up already. This was going to wind up being a thing, wasn't it...?

[[ for Merlin. ]]

Camelot stood peaceful as it sometimes did: no sorcerers had been burned in about a forthnight, there were no bandits getting particularly close to the city proper, and there were no real problems with the food or water.

Inside one room, the Lady Catrina and her servant busied themselves with something particularly noxious-smelling. And a trinket. But that was hardly of any import just yet. After all, that was their business.

In the morning, the knights would head out for training. In the afternoon, Uther would recieve citizens in need of mediation or favours in his audience chamber. The markets would bustle, and the farmers would work.

Yes. It was just another day in Camelot.