King Alator smiled, as he turned to one of his advisors.
"Prince Arthur. Finally done and dealt with. I honestly don't know what the druid meant. He wasn't hard to get rid off.", he shook his head. Almost delighted to have accomplished what the men he had tortured for this information, claimed was impossible.
He took a sip from his wine and leaned back in his chair.
He was sitting in his chambers, celebrating his victory about the one and only Arthur Pendragon.

"What now, Sire?", his advisor seemed nervous.
"Don't you think the king will get suspicious, if his son doesn't return before the feast tonight?"

Alator chuckled to himself. He merely send the sorcerer a glance. Wasn't that kind of the point?
"We dumped his corpse in plain sight. It won't be long, until he's found.", he confirmed with a shrug.

"Don't you think, the king will suspect it was you?"

Alator shook his head. It looked almost fond, if there wasn't the self satisfied smirk gracing his lips. Now it looked rather pitying instead.
"You're right. I'm perfectly certain he will. And how dare he, when I was in my chambers all morning? I haven't seen the prince around.
Such unwarranted accusations have consequences, the king should be careful."

His smirk widened.
"It's just enough justification to start a war, don't you think?"

The advisor shuddered a little.

------------------------

"You've got to be kidding me."

The feast was held in all it's glory. King Uther was cheerfully talking to some noble men, while servants handed out pastries and juice. The servants themselves looked stressed, but rich people never paid them any mind.

No one here seemed all too worried.
Least of all Arthur Pendragon himself.
In calm, almost elegant strides, the prince walked by Alator. His bearded face barely acknowledged him, but when he did, he wore a challenging expression.
"I know what you're planning, but I won't let this continue.", the man whispered when he walked passed, so that only Alator could hear it.

The foreign king, however, was too busy staring at the unscathed man.
Prince Arthur may be looking a little pale, but all in all he seemed.... perfectly fine. No limping, not even a sign of discomfort.
As if he had never been stabbed at all.

"I don't know what you mean.", Alator gritted back. He couldn't exactly outright ask the prince how on earth he survived!
He was DEAD for god's sake. They CHECKED. TWICE. Alator was incredibly careful when it came to making sure his enemies were dead.
Arthur was dead! Alator had been 100 % certain of it.
Except, here he stood.

"You've bewitched the cook to spread chaos over the serving stuff. You kidnapped my personal manservant. You will pay for this.", the man pointed a finger at Alator, eyes narrowed, as if ready to poison him with just his glare.
Alator blinked. THAT'S what he will pay for? Not for trying (and apparently failing) to kill him?

Then Arthur turned around and left. As soon as the next noble woman talked to him, all his anger had dissipated and he nodded at her politely. Pretending to be interested in whatever topic she chose to talk about. But he joked around as if nothing at all had happened.

Alator was still staring.
"Sire...", another of his personal sorcerer guides moved closer to him.
"This is not possible.", they said, and they too were whispering. It was hardly necessary with all the noise surrounding them, but Alator still appreciated the attempt at carefulness.

"You've seen him. It is. What more proof do you need?", he growled. Alator couldn't blame his sorcerers. This made no sense. Not even Alator himself had an explanation for this.
And he had studied magic too. Maybe not as intensively, but enough to know that this was beyond unusual.

"No, seriously. This can't be happening. He WAS dead. Magic like that demands a sacrifice. A life for a life or something alike. You know? He CAN'T just have revived. It makes no sense."

"Do you think the servant could have done this?"

"He was unconscious all night! I checked with the guards! They confirmed it. We had him drugged. He wouldn't even remember he was called by us at all, even if he woke up now. I have no explanation for this."

Unfortunately, Alator believed him.
"Well, that just won't do. Bring the servant to my chambers within the next candle mark. I want to chat with him."

Meanwhile, Leon was sitting at the feast table, tapping his foot impatiently against the table.
He had no time to stay here and just let their enemies do whatever they wanted.
He needed an excuse to leave, but Uther was staring him down. Warning him not to leave the table without his consent.
Leon remembered why he usually pitied Arthur. The real prince lived like this every day. Not just a week.
No wonder Arthur's psyche was so messed up.

Leon sighed. George was in danger and the longer he left him there, the higher the chances were that he got hurt. Maybe he already was. What if he was dead?
Leon closed his eyes.

He had searched for him, ever since he got back into the castle. But so far, the only thing he had managed to sort out was the problem with the cook.
The woman had been completely out of her mind. She was cooking one of Gaius's leather bound magic books in a bowl. How she got hold of the book and why she thought using a porcelain bowl on an open fire to cook anything at all was a great idea, Leon didn't know.
All he could tell was that those runes inside her irises proved that this behavior wasn't normal.
She had been enchanted.

Was something wrong with Leon that this managed to surprised him? He knew a lot of crazy people.
This behavior could have been part of the cook's personality.
Arthur faced Griffin's and sorcerer's on a daily basis without any chance of survival and Merlin lived under a king who wanted him dead, if he knew his true nature.
They were both recklessly suicidal. Just that they called it courage.
For goodness sake, Leon's best friend made jokes about brass!
Why, just why did Arthur and Merlin have to leave again?

...

Leon blinked. For a moment his sight swam before his eyes. Actually.... why DID they leave?

It was a servant who got him out of his mind.
"Sire, are you alright?", she asked. She was a young thing. If Leon remembered correctly, she had been serving withing the castle for about a year now.
"Jessica, hi. Yes, sure, I'm fine."

She smiled at him, clearly doubting his answer. No wonder, Leon was pale as a sheep. She then bowed, before refilling his glass of water with the pitcher she carried around at all times.
"You don't have to lie. We're all a little shaken and overworked. I imagine it must be as bad for you, since you're practically doing a double shift, with everything that's going on.
I can't remember a single day that George took a day off. And I mean, we're already short two servants. I really wish Merlin were here to help.
And well... Gwen of course. It's all so chaotic."
She paused, then she noticed Leon's frown.

"Oh. Sorry, Sire. I didn't mean to be rude. I shouldn't be talking about Gwen. I know she was a close friend of yours too. You grew up together after all. I'll be going. I'm sorry. Please forgive me."

"No no. It's not that.", Leon blinked at her and tilted his head in confusion. She stopped, eyes filled with worry, but ready to listen.

"Who is Gwen?"

There was a pause, as the servant's eyes widened like saucers.
"I beg your pardon?"

---------------------------------------------------

When George woke up, he had no time to orient himself. Someone had punched him in the face without a warning and cold water was thrown over him right after.
Trying to catch a breath, he tried to wiggle himself free from the tight hold he found himself in, when suddenly his arms were freed and he fell to the ground.
His limbs didn't reply to his orders and he could barely lift his head to look at his attackers.

Someone grabbed him under his stomach and threw him on something warm and round. It must be the back of a horse, according to the smell.
When he hit the horse with his ribs, he felt the air pressed out of his lungs and his hands were still shackled with iron chains.

Iron chains... Those were supposed to bind magic, weren't they? Why were they chaining George of all people with it?
Not that he could find the strength to answer.
George was a normal servant. He wasn't trained like a knight or knew basic self defense. He knew the art of making himself scarce while he was healthy. He knew the art of annoying people so they send him off.
He didn't know what to do in a hostage situation. So he kept quiet and tried to focus on his breathing.

"Is he awake yet?", one of the sorcerer's asked. He had a deep and rich voice. It was almost soothing. If it weren't for the fact that George knew the guy had kidnapped him.

"His eyes are open.", the other voice was even deeper.

"He could be dead."

"I don't think so. The king would kill us, if we failed at keeping him alive."

"We already failed at killing the prince. Why does he want the sorcerer alive anyway?"

"Are you an idiot? He managed to be unseen by the king himself for years! And apparently he managed to make the prince immortal too! Or at least he did something that would protect the prince."

"Are you sure it's the servant?"

"Of course I'm sure! The prince was searching the entire castle for him. The prince knows he's doomed without him, that's the only explanation.
The question is... HOW they are doing it."

It was quiet between them once again and the one with the deeper voice clicked his tongue, so the horses would start moving. Before that, they threw a thick blanket over George, so he would not be seen by the towns people.
Sometimes simple disguises worked perfectly fine, even in broad daylight.
To George's dismay, he already knew how blind Camelot tended to be.

They must have hidden him in the forest. George was sure he had been chained to a tree. The rough surface of the trees had scratched into his back a little and his shoulders felt sore from being pressed against it for quite the amount of time.
Also, now that the horse was moving, he could tell that they were quite a bit outside of the castle.

Time passed, in which the two sorcerer's (George realized that he was actually just assuming that they were sorcerers. Were they sorcerers?) bickered and bantered, before they got off the horses.
Then one of them, he must be broad and strong, threw George over his shoulder as if he weighted nothing.
Then the familiar echoes of footsteps against cold stone informed George that they were back inside the castle.

Soon after, a door opened and then George was roughly sat down on the floor.
Only now was the blanket removed from George's head and he took a deep breath to not immediately fall over again.

He practically knelt on the floor and now looked up into king Alator's face.
"Well well well. If this isn't the manservant of prince Arthur himself. Merlin was your name, right?"

George swallowed, but nodded. Despite the fact that it was a lie, no one questioned it. Alator just slowly walked around him.
"Or should I be calling you Emrys?", he spat before George's feet.

The servant's eyes widened and then he noticed another familiar face staring at him in confusion from the other side of the room.
Now... this was new.
George immediately guessed what must have happened. King Alator probably send one of his men out to capture one of the druids. And not just any druid.
This man was considered the leader of the peaceful group of people that hid inside the forest from Uther's men. His name was Iseldir.

He was a tall, calmness radiating blond man with messy hair. Normally, his hair had been long enough to reach his shoulders. Someone had shaved it all off. Scars were littering his head, as if it had been done roughly and carelessly. Iseldir appeared starved and tortured.
Yet, George would remember the man anywhere.

How he had met Iseldir? Well... That was a long story. One that involved a few questions, which Kilgharrah had refused to answer. So George had been forced to ride out alone in the depth of night to consult the man and ask him about Leon's... condition. Or rather about the price he had to pay for it.
Not that Leon knew anything about it. It would only concern him. It was better to keep quiet and not unnecessarily worry him.

"I see you two have met? I can't say I'm surprised.", Alator grinned and grabbed George by the hair to yank his head up and look him in the eye.
"Tell me, Iseldir. Is it true? Is this Emrys?"

George was pushed backwards and almost fell over, when his eyes found Iseldir's. Silently pleading, George begged him with his eyes to lie.
Iseldir blinked silently and shook his head at him apologetically. Then he pointed at his throat, as if to say: ' I can't lie. I'm enchanted not to.'
It may be a wild guess, but it was an accurate one.

"I'm afraid not. That's not Emrys."