"Alas that ever I bare crown upon my head! for now have I lost the fairest fellowship of noble knights that ever held Christian king together."

- Le Morte D'Arthur

Arthur stood pensively in his room, watching out the large windows to where the gallows had been erected. The noose swayed ominously in the breeze of the early morning, and sunlight barely managed to touch the wooden structure. This morning, unlike other mornings, seven knights stood in front of the closed gate to the courtyard of the Citadel. They blocked the townsfolk from entering. This would not be a public affair.

A knock at the door alerted the king to Merlin's imminent presence. His friend and manservant entered quietly with food. Arthur didn't turn to look, but spoke as he watched the stillness below.

"This is going to work." He seemed to be trying to reassure himself more than Merlin. "This isn't a mistake."

Merlin frowned as he placed the food tray on the large oak table. He didn't respond at first, too concerned himself to say anything. But after a moment or two he nodded. "No matter what happens, you did what was best."

Arthur nodded and finally turned to face the warlock. "Of course. Their ready then?"

"The others?" Merlin nodded. "Yes. Gwaine and Leon know their jobs. Percival, Elyan, and Galahad are all double checking the perimeter as we speak."

"I chose Gareth and Gaheris to escort Guinevere," Arthur told him, taking his seat to begin eating. "Gaheris was eager enough after seeing Lamorak and Philip dead."

"When will it begin?"

Arthur put down his fork to answer. "One hour. She's to march with the rising sun."

-*-

"Are you prepared?" Morgana paced back and forth where she stood watching her eighteen priests form a circle around the fifty men and Lancelot. "Nyx?"

Fira nodded. "I am."

The young woman held out her hands to either side, palms open to the rising sun. The priests joined in a circle with her, chanting alongside the Lady. A slight breeze blew in the air, and it only picked up as the words were shouted louder and faster.

"...byre gerecan hradian edhwierft..."

Fira found herself shouting, struggling to be heard about the massive whirlwind that surrounded them. Morgana watched in glee as he plan came to fruition, as her servants banded together to be more powerful than even herself. The addition of Fira to her ranks made Morgana feel invincible.

After fifteen minutes of the spell, their eyes flashed gold together as it completed its course. All were thrown back by the wind, Fira fainting from the expenditure of power. But Morgana merely laughed. Her troops now descended upon Camelot.

-*-

"Guinevere Pendragon, you stand accused and convicted of betraying the crown, and of treason of the highest order." Arthur stood above her, dressed to the nines in armor and regalia. He narrowed his eyes as she pleaded with him.

"Please!" She sobbed and begged. "I was not myself!"

Beside her, Sir Gareth frowned sadly. The youngest knight of Camelot didn't agree with his King's decision to execute the queen. He knew something was off. Guinevere would never have betrayed them unless forced.

He looked to the side and found Gwaine staring nowhere in particular, anger evident in his scrunched facial features. Gareth looked to his other brother who stood but on the other side of the Queen. Gaheris seemed just as put out, but it clearly was directed at Queen Guinevere. He knew Gaheris had seen the damage done by the Queen first hand.

Gareth also noted that this execution felt different. All the knights not on patrol or guarding the various towns outside of Camelot had assembled together in the courtyard, some thirty five in all. Most seemed angry at the Queen, but the core knights, the King's closest friends, looked more on edge than angry. It seemed as if a storm was about to break.

Leon's hand absentmindedly rested on his sword hilt. Elyan played with his cloak's fastener. Percival watched the exits carefully. Galahad seemed on high alert, likely trying to sense any magic nearby. Gareth didn't understand it.

Arthur frowned. "I have no choice but to sentence you to death."

Gwen drew herself up and nodded, trying to maintain what little dignity she had left. Gaheris nudged her forward and she began to climb the stairs.

At that moment, a great gusting of wind sounded in the courtyard. The entire courtyard froze, as if waiting to see what would happen. Gareth noted that Arthur no longer stood at the balcony. But his attention and fascination wavered when a crash and shouts were heard at the gate.

"Ready yourselves!" Leon cried, drawing his sword. He stopped before the queen and the two half brothers of Gwaine. He lowered his voice. "She's innocent, enchanted by a witch. Keep her safe."

Gwen looked at a complete loss for words, but cried openly in relief. Gaheris seemed stunned. After a tense moment, he nodded to Gareth. They had a job to do.

"Stay up there, your majesty," Gaheris cried as the doors flew open. "We'll protect the stairs!"

Saxons flooded the courtyard, engaging the knights of Camelot fiercely. The area became inundated with screams of anger and rage. The battle began in earnest. Gwaine and Leon led the defense as best they could, the two greatest fighters of Camelot, side by side, their mission the same. Yet even they became pushed back as a single man strode forward, surrounded by Saxons willing to die to defend him.

Lancelot du Lac didn't even swing his sword. All he had to do was stay close to his three battlemages. The mages sent the knights flying back like ragdolls. No one could touch the fallen knight.

"Crossbow!" Gwaine shouted for the ranged weapon.

Galahad held three in his hands, and passed them to Gwaine, Leon, and Elyan. Together they tried to take out the Battlemages. Leon's bolt found its target, and the man fell dead. Yet still Lancelot pressed on. Gwaine turned around just in time to catch the blade of a Saxon, saving himself and Elyan.

"Where's Arthur?" Gwaine snapped as Percival ran over. "He needs to grab Gwen and get out!"

The Saxon ranks were thinning, slowly but surely. The ones Morgana had sent seemed more organized and powerful than most Saxons the knights had met thus far.

A scream alerted the others to Guinevere's plight. Gaheris and Gareth had managed to kill the two remaining Battlemages, but Lancelot fought them now at the foot of the gallows. Gwaine immediately tried to wade towards them. But the Saxons made it difficult.

Another scream and shout betrayed the fate of Gaheris. He had dived in front of Lancelot's sword, taking a strike intended for his little brother. Straight through the stomach, the sword cut him deep. He fell, silent, to the side.

Gwaine shouted furiously. He began to cut down the Saxons like they were paper. Leon and Percival joined him on either side. They sliced through the enemy forces, egged on by the hated Gwaine felt. It surged through him, providing a second wind he didn't know he had.

A sword caught him on the leg. But Gwaine responded by stabbing the Saxon through the heart. He kicked the body off his sword and to the side. He was so close, another minute and he'd be there.

But Lancelot had other plans. Weight and height remained on his side as he fought Sir Gareth. The young knight's face dripped with fear. But still he fought on, swinging wildly to protect his Queen who stood atop the gallows. Gareth pushed back with such ferocity that Lancelot gave a few feet. Gwen seized the opportunity to flee, Arthur finally reaching her with Merlin by his side.

"Get Gwen inside!" Arthur shouted quickly to his manservant. "Get her to safety."

Merlin's face blanched in terror as time seemed to stop. Arthur turned to see what his friend looked at. All he saw was Gareth dropping his sword, another blade protruding from his stomach.

Gwaine's roar of anger roused Arthur from his stupor. Both the men converged on Lancelot, enraged and eager for vengeance. But both flew back, pushed by an unnatural force. The last battlemage stepped up beside the fallen knight and they shared a nod. With a spell, the knight and the mage disappeared from the battlefield.

Gwaine scrambled to his feet and ran towards his dying brothers. Gaheris grew increasingly cold to the touch as Gwaine felt his pulse. The man forced his eyes open one last time.

Blood spilled from his lips. "Gareth?"

Gwaine didn't even have time to respond before his brother stopped breathing. Gwaine's face contorted in rage and regret, but a cold, bloody hand on his arm alerted him to his youngest brother's plight.

"Gwaine!" Gareth coughed violently, blood pouring down the side of his mouth. "Gwaine I don't want to die!"

Gwaine knelt next to him, taking his hand. With his other hand, he tried desperately to stop the bleeding in his brother's abdomen.

He snapped back. "You're not going to die."

"How's Gaheris?" Gareth tried to turn his head to look for his older brother. " 's he safe?

Gwaine glanced back at the still body of Gaheris. Then he looked at Gareth. He forced a roguish smile on his face. "He's great. Got knocked out, the silly man."

Gareth let out a single chuckle which proceeded to morph into a choking cough. More blood poured from his body. Gwaine tore off his cloak and stuffed it in the wound.

"You can't drift off, 'kay?" Gwaine looked at him seriously. "You understand little brother? You need to keep talking."

"Gwaine," Gareth let a tiny smile form on his pained, youthful face. "Gwaine if I die, maybe I'll see mother again."

"You're not going to die," the older man snapped once more. "Stop talking like that."

"It's okay," Gareth smiled as his eyes began to close. "Mum will be there. I'm not scared anymore."

"No," Gwaine whined, "no you can't die. You hear that, Gareth? That's an order. I can do that. No dying allowed."

But Gareth didn't stir. His eyes closed a final time, and his head fell to the side. The grip of his hand on Gwaine's faltered. But his brother didn't let go.

"No." Gwaine shook his head, dropping the limp hand and standing away. He looked at the blood covering his own hands and shook his head. "No."

Arthur had watched the entire ordeal in horror, not daring to interrupt for fear of what Gwaine might do. Percival, Leon, and Elyan now all stood beside their king, looking at the broken bodies of Gwaine's brothers with shock written all over their faces. Gareth looked so young, lying there. His seventeen years had been cut too short.

Gwaine trembled where he stood, vitriolic hatred practically radiating from him. As he turned to his King, Arthur flinched at the gaze.

"As your knight, your cousin, and your friend," Gwaine spoke slowly and darkly. "I demand vengeance for their deaths. Either we take the war to that witch, or I go alone."