Merlin looked her in the eye – rare enough, for the man who shares her husband’s bed – and told her he’d no idea what was coming, but that they had all better be more prepared than they were.

She saw hell, and she saw that these two Camelots would one day be one and the same, happiness slowly sliding into tragedy. She saw, and knew in her heart of hearts that it could be changed. Now she knows the price she will have to pay to make that happen.

Morgana is transfigured, glowing with an unearthly power within. "I claim this island," she tells Nimueh.

"It is time for Mordred to whet his appetite in battle," Morgana said.

Eight children – all under the age of thirteen – had disappeared from Camelot in the past six weeks. This little girl had been the first one recovered – dead and barely three years old.

"How long do you think it will be, before Uther learns the truth and both your lives are forfeit? Come with me and he will keep his life. By all the ancient gods I swear it."

"I had a dream," Morgana says and the world fades to white.

Yes, Merlin understood Morgana. Because he knew all too well that before long he’d be following a similar path, and telling Arthur – no matter how tempting – was something he couldn’t afford to contemplate. It was for Arthur’s sake, and Merlin could not stand to be ordered to stay.

Arthur closes eyes, turns his face into the pillow, and promises himself that it’s only the sunlight refracting, even though they only make love with the curtains drawn in the darkness of night.

Then that particular group of girls who always sit together—and out of all there's only one he thinks is hot but she never looks up at the right time—sitting next to Heineken, a broody kid who takes his skateboard to class, and whose real name is forever lost due to a supposed incident during first year introduction that involved a beer bottle, an unsavoury way of putting it to use and a partner too drunk to care.

"Uther forced me to swear an Unbreakable Vow."

It's been a fair few years now and Merlin's powers don't seem to be good for much but whoring any more. He sees Arthur around (follows him around), mostly on sports teams (he started off three-day eventing, polo, fencing, but now it's football, rugby, cricket), once or twice a politician, an actor once as well. He's been a lot of things; sportsman, mayor, cult-leader, general ... people will follow Arthur anywhere. Merlin does, for a start. He knows he probably shouldn't.

Merlin was never an old man when Arthur was crowned, just an old soul.

To be voiceless was terrifying, but to use silence as a weapon was somehow worse.

History books would not remember Gaius’ death precipitating the greatest war Albion had ever seen. That blame lay entirely with an inexperienced sorcerer and the Prince whom he’d betrayed a hundred times over. Future!fic with a time travel twist. Inspired and loosely based on The Sword in the Stone.