“The full reports have come in, sire.” Leon spoke in hushed tones to his king as they sat inside the tent the next morning at dawn. “All of Morgana’s men are dead or captured, but we have reason to believe more will be coming in the next few weeks.”

Merlin sat at the far side next to Fira, having placed a cloak over her battered form after cleaning her. He listened in carefully but had much more on his mind.

“How many men did we lose?” Arthur looked at Leon solemnly.

Leon paused before he hung his head sadly. “Two thousand, sire. A third of the knights were killed.”

Arthur closed his eyes in pain. Shaking his head, he looked down at the table where he sat and studied it in fake fascination. Eventually he face Leon again and spoke firmly.

“We need to get the wounded back to Camelot.”

“I've already sent a few of the swiftest riders back to Camelot to request more carts for those who cannot ride,” Leon told him. “We brought seven, but that will not be enough.”

“They should arrive in a couple days,” Arthur nodded in thought. “Very well. We leave behind a thousand men to protect the remaining wounded, but I need to return to Camelot immediately.”

“Agreed.”

A whimper sounded from the other side of the tent. The two men turned to look at the wounded young woman Merlin sat with. The warlock bent over her, investigating her wounds again.

“Has she woken yet?” Arthur asked.

Merlin shook his head. “No, she hasn't woken since I gave her the sleeping draught hours ago.” His face was drawn in concern.

Leon frowned. “Can she be moved?”

“I don't see why not. I'd like to get her to Gaius as soon as possible anyways.” Merlin stood and cracked his back. He felt stiff from sitting still all night on the ground. “If she stays asleep, we'll need a cart though.”

“Consider it hers,” Arthur nodded. He turned to Leon. “I want us ready to leave in two hours. See the knights all know their assignments and get a cart for Fira.”

“And you, sire?” Leon asked hesitantly. “Can you ride?”

“I managed to heal his leg somewhat during the night,” Merlin assured him. “He should be fine.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “I can, in fact, speak for myself, Merlin.”

Leon gave a short laugh before bowing to Arthur. He went to leave but Merlin called out to him.

“Any sign of Mordred?”

They all tensed. Merlin had revealed his treachery the night before but because of Fira’s precarious state, none had discussed it.

“Unfortunately no,” he said, shaking his head sadly. “But his betrayal is known to all. He will not be able to show his face around the army and survive.”

Arthur nodded. “Good.”

With a bow, Leon sped outside to find the other knights. He instructed Elyan to retrieve one of the carts, while Percival, Gwaine, and Galahad spread the plan among the troops. Two hours later, the knights mounted their horses, stood in a line, and awaited Arthur’s command to begin moving out.

Fortunately the extra time it would take to navigate with carts mattered little to Fira’s health that they knew of. Merlin could keep an eye on her from inside the cart. She continued to sleep.

Fira woke up in a cart being drawn by two horses. Beside her sat Merlin, or more accurately slept Merlin. It seemed to Fira that he had somehow managed to fall asleep sitting up against the cart side. She did her best to fake sleep still as she looked out the back of the cart. She noted that Elyan and Leon rode together, talking quietly in hushed tones. Fira also saw a few other companies of knights near carriages. Sirs James and Yvain escorted one behind and to the left, while to the back right went Sirs Tor and Morholt with their own. The sun sank in the sky behind them.

Heading back to Camelot then, she realized. Did we win?

She risked more fully opening her eyes as an intense pain flooded her body. A whimper escaped her lips as she curled inwards, grabbing at her chest area with her remaining hand. Merlin was instantly awake, concern written all over his face. Leon and Elyan ceased their conversation and watched their interactions with thinly veiled interest.

“Hey there,” Merlin joked. “You slept longer than Arthur does!”

Fira strained a tiny smile before letting it fall as a new wave of pain swept through her body. She tried to sit up, to curl herself tighter, but her body wouldn't obey.

“What's hurting?” Merlin asked immediately. When she frowned, he continued. “We’ll be to Gaius tomorrow night, until then I'm your physician.”

“I don't doubt your skills,” she assured him quietly. “I just don't know what's not hurting.”

“We don't know the after effects of Heart Stones when forcibly removed,” Merlin said sadly. “Usually the victim dies immediately.”

“Why didn't I?”

Merlin shrugged. “Your magic seemed to keep you alive.”

“Damn.”

His frown deepened. He watched her face contort with grief, and finally he spoke again. “Don't talk like that.”

“I deserve death, Merlin. It’s taken me a minute, but I remember everything. I'm the reason Sirs Lamorak and Philip are dead. I’m the reason Gareth and Gaheris are dead. I killed Jetta.” Fira sunk deeper into the pile of cloaks she had been laid upon. “I deserve execution.”

“Don't let Gwaine hear you say that,” Merlin scolded her as he examined her cauterized right arm. “Or any of the knights for that matter. We’ve lost enough good people in this war.” He cut her off as she went to speak. “And no, not because of you. Because of Morgana.”

Fira held his gaze for a long time before responding. “Is there any water?”

Merlin shifted where he knelt and tried to find a waterskin. When he found it, a sigh escaped his lips as he noted it was empty.

Fira shrugged. “Never mind. I’m fine. I don't want to take water from those who deserve it.”

With a frown, Merlin shook his head. “As your physician, I say that you are not fine. Emotionally or physically.”

Fira glared daggers at him. “No one asked you about my mind, Merlin. I will not be lectured by you on how I should feel.” Her voice grew more grave and forceful. “I killed good men, Merlin. I killed and killed and killed, and what am I shown? Kindness. I derailed the entire war effort.” Tears sprung to her eyes. “I was the one who brought Mordred into Camelot, vouched for him, against your better judgement and what happened? He betrayed you all. Everything I've done these past nine months has been nothing but failure.”

Elyan and Leon, openly listening now, seemed to frown even deeper than before. They had no idea what to do. But Merlin was having none of it.

“Fira, look at me.” Merlin stared her right in the eyes. “You are not to blame. Morgana is to blame.” When she didn't respond, he sighed. “I'm going to apply some chamomile cream to the burn over your heart. Maybe that will help with the pain.”

“It's not just pain,” she murmured, her dizziness increasing. “I feel like I'm going to be sick.”

Fira allowed him to shift off her shirt again. The black scars had faded to a lighter brown, but the tendrils across her skin still stood out. The large burn over her chest radiated heat when he put his hand near it.

“That isn't good,” he muttered in frustration. Sitting back on his left leg, he examined the burn. Leaning closer he whispered to her, “I’m going to use magic on it.”

“Don't let people see you,” she warned. Another wave of pain in her chest washed over her and she whimpered.

Merlin flashed her his signature smile. “Don't worry about me.”

He turned away from everyone and spoke quietly in the Old language. He held his hand on her chest below the neck and his eyes flashed gold. Instantly he knew something was dangerously wrong.

Fira’s heart was off. He didn't know how else to describe it. It felt strange. He reached deeper with his magic when all of a sudden she cried out. It was so sharp and full of pain, the cart stopped immediately.

Merlin jumped back from her as Leon and Elyan leapt off their horses and ran towards him. Merlin grabbed Fira’s hand and felt for a pulse.

“There's no pulse,” he frantically glanced around. “I don't know what happened!”

“Just fix it,” Elyan demanded as he leapt into the cart.

Merlin nodded and reached out with his magic again. Her heart had stopped. He told Elyan and Leon so. Merlin instantly sent an electric pulse into her body.

Fira couldn't move. Merlin sent another pulse through her body and suddenly she exploded into a fit of coughs and gasps. Elyan and Leon sat back against the cart and Merlin laughed in relief. But Fira was having none of it. She burst out in tears, grasping at her chest in a mix of fear and relief. Fira crumpled into the blanket of cloaks and tried to calm down.

Sir Leon hopped off the cart and onto his horse, riding around front. He told whoever was in charge to begin moving again.

“What happened?” Fira gasped through her tears.

Merlin frowned and took her remaining hand in his. “Side effect I suppose. Your heart stopped.”

She frowned and turned away. “Will it happen again?”

“I don't know,” admitted Merlin quietly.

“If it does,” she began as she struggled to sit up and grab Merlin’s shoulder, “you are not to revive me, is that clear?”

Merlin looked at her like she’d grown two heads. He narrowed his eyes and shook his head, lowering her back down onto the blankets. He used his dragonlord voice. “No. I am going to keep you alive, Fira. Is that clear? No more of this nonsense.”

“Listen to him.” Elyan heartily agreed with his assertion. “Because if he doesn't keep you alive, we will.”

Fira watched them indignantly. “It's my choice.”

“You're in no mental state to be making any kind of decision,” Merlin snapped, becoming uncharacteristically forceful.

Fira growled angrily but laid back down in defeat. The massive chest and body pain had disappeared, making it much easier to enjoy herself. But her head throbbed, and her missing hand somehow managed to hurt despite it being gone. Her eyes stung from unbidden tears. She fell quiet.

“Elyan,” Merlin whispered in a hush, “if you could find a waterskin for her that'd be key.”

“Of course,” he said with a nod.

Merlin sat back against the cart side once more, watching as Elyan leapt atop his steed and rode to find water. Fira had drifted back off to sleep and Merlin felt his exhaustion wash over his body. He’d been working non stop for three days, especially in the past twenty-four hours, keeping Fira alive.

It wasn't Elyan who returned with a waterskin. Gwaine, riding atop mighty Gringolet, came around the cart to join Leon behind. His expression seemed a cross between relief and worry, as he only knew what Elyan had related to him. He carefully pulled himself into the cart and sat beside Merlin.

“How's she doing?”

Merlin sighed and shook his head. “I wish I knew.”

“You need to sleep, mate,” Gwaine muttered, looking his friend up and down, not liking what he found. “You're going to fall out of this cart in exhaustion.”

Merlin snorted but shook his head emphatically. “I can't sleep. She almost died ten minutes ago. What if that happens again?”

Gwaine shrugged. “I'll wake you?”

“Funny.”

“I'm not joking.” The knight looked around and made sure Leon still held onto Gringolet as they rode onward. He turned back to Merlin, a serious expression on his face. “We can't afford to lose you both. Your best bet to help her is for you to be rested.”

Merlin frowned but knew the knight spoke truly. He laid himself back against a pile of cloaks and fell fast asleep in minutes. Gwaine nearly laughed. Instead he settled for a small smile as he reached into his satchel and pulled out a bottle of mead. He turned to Leon and lifted the bottle in salute to which the man merely rolled his eyes. Gwaine laughed this time and took a swig.