Here is chapter 5. Now this chapter is pretty boring and not nearly as funny as I would like, but it sets up alot of important bits so just bare with me.

Merlin shifted uncomfortably on his horse.

They'd been travelling all morning and Merlin was impatient to get to Embrough.

The whole ride the knights had been joking about Uther's peculiar outburst in the throne room and teasing Merlin immensely for being accused of sorcery.

He understood why, of course. He was often the butt of the knight's jokes and the events in the throne room were fuel to the fire- no one would ever accuse stupid, clumsy merlin of sorcery- but that didn't make Merlin any less nervous.

Add to it the strange conversation Merlin had had with Uther and you got one incredibly agitated servant.

He just knew there was going to be a noose with his name on it when they got back to Camelot, he just knew it. There was no way Uther was going to let him live with even the slightest idea that he might have magic.

Merlin felt a swift slap to the head and he looked around in surprise, his eyes wide.

Arthur rode next to him, rolling his eyes at his ridiculous servant. "Really Merlin, I've been calling your name for a while now. If I'd known you were this distracted, I'd have left you at home!"

"Sorry sire, I must not have heard you."

The prince huffed. "Obviously. We've decided to make camp. You best get to work; we're all very hungry and dinner won't make its self you know."

It was Merlin's turn to roll his eyes. "Of course sire."

Gwen walked quietly down the corridor, a basket of clothes under one arm.

Soon she neared her mistress' chambers and she prepared herself for the worst, caution filling her mind. Morgana had been in a sour mood all day, and Gwen was inclined to think it had something to do with the events in the throne room that morning.

Of course, Gwen didn't believe for a moment that Morgana thought Merlin was a sorcerer and she thought the ward should be used to her guardian's strange moods by now, but something about that morning had deeply bothered Morgana.

She had reached the corridor leading to Morgana's room When someone barreled into her from behind.

She turned around to apologize and saw the king standing before her. She blushed and curtsied, bowing her head. "I am so sorry my lord! I did not see you!"

The king just laughed and his eyes twinkled. "No need to apologize; it was my fault. I forgot I can be incredibly clumsy. What is your name?"

Gwen gaped at the man in front of her. Did Uther Pendragon just apologize? Gwen suddenly felt faint and tried to stop herself from passing out at the king's feet. "Um… Guinevere my lord. I'm the lady Morgana's maid and was just going to take her clothes to her room because that's what I do you know, laundry and stuff. Oh I forgot! Of course you don't know, you're the king and wouldn't concern yourself with a servant's duty. Oh that sounded incredibly rude! I didn't mean it that way, please don't execute me! And I'm sorry for nocking into you, don't kill me for that either!" Then Gwen took a deep breath and blushed even deeper. She was dead for sure!

Uther just laughed. "Ah, you are quite the talker. I-wait. Did you just say your name was Quinevere?"

Gwen nodded as Uther's face lit up and he took her hand. "My lady, it is an honor to meet your acquaintance! I have oft dreamed of coming to Camelot and meet the gentle queen who stole the fabled king's heart. How did you do it? And why did you betray your husband to that other knight?"

Gwen took a step back. "Uh…" She was very confused. Did Uther just call her a queen?

Uther seemed to think her expression was offended for he hummed and nodded his head. "Of course, I really should not ask these things of you. You are a queen after all and I should not bombard you with such questions. Come into my chamber and let's have tea."

Then the king took her by the arm and dragged her off to his chambers and she had no choice but to follow.

Morgana was confused. She and Morgause had laid a cunning plan to send Arthur on a wild goose chase and drive Uther to claiming her as a daughter then killing him brutally involving a boiled toad, fire, a fake sorcerer, rotten wala roots and betrayal, but Uther hadn't even blinked when Arthur had mentioned a sorcerer. In fact, he didn't seem to care about that, instead insisting that Arthur's useless servant was the most powerful sorcerer to ever live.

Imagine, stupid, clumsy Merlin being a powerful sorcerer! The idea was preposterous!

She huffed and continued stirring her caldron. Morgana was a little worried about being caught making a magic potion in her chambers, but Morgause had insisted that it was fine, claiming that it was essential to her training that she brew an evil brew right under the nose of the king.

Morgana didn't really get how that would help her become a high priestess, but she did it anyways. After all, who knew better than her sister what would help her magic grow?

Merlin had a strange dream that night.

In it there was a huge castle and thousands of strangely dressed children running around preforming magic. This surprised Merlin, for where in Albion would children be allowed to use magic freely?

His dream soon focused on a young man who looked almost royal with dark brown hair and black eyes. He was surrounded by a group of boys and was obviously the leader.

There was something wrong about this boy. Darkness surrounded him like a cloak and dread filled Merlin's heart.

He watched silently as the boy grew, learning dark magic and manipulating those around him.

Then the boy graduated and set about preforming terrible magic. Merlin watched as he split apart his soul, as he murdered innocents, and soon he learned a name. Lord Voldemort. And even as he watched, he couldn't help but last. Lord Voldemort? What kind of name was that?

Suddenly the dream switched gears and Merlin was thrust into a clean white room, watching as a woman gave birth. Soon the screaming stopped and Merlin watched as a healthy baby girl was placed in the mother's arms.

Just like that, the dream faded and Merlin was sent coursing back into reality.