~<>~

The next morning Arthur called everyone together. He made sure The Mage knew she was invited. She had hesitated at the invitation, claiming she made everyone nervous, but Arthur had silenced her argument. This was his war council and he needed her at his back. Determination and something else had flared in her dark eyes and now she was leaning against the wall behind Arthur, staying as far away from the others as possible, but still there because he had asked her.

Arthur took a moment to look over the group. Groups would be more appropriate. His family from the Poppy sat on one side of the room while the rebels sat on the other with him and The Mage in between. He glanced over his shoulder at her but her face was a calm mask as she waited. He nodded to her and she nodded back, she was with him.

"Wet Stick, meet Percival," the men nodded to one another. "Rubio, meet Back Lack," Arthur shifted and grimaced as his broken ribs sent a shot of pain through his whole body. It wasn't in him to show weakness, but it was impossible to hide it completely. "Sir Bedivere, who runs this aristocratic family of cave dwellers, meet Blue. Son of Back Lack." Arthur gestured at Goosefat carelessly. "The infamous Goosefat Bill needs no introduction. Most of you have already met our dear Mage sent to us by the illustrious Merlin himself."

The two groups looked at one another appraisingly as though they were trying to get the measure of one another. That wouldn't do. If they were going to do this, they needed to be united by more than just their loyalty to him, they needed to realize they all wanted the same thing, regardless of motivation.

"So," Arthur began. "You think you can take down Vortigern?" he asked looking to the rebel's side of the room.

Goosefat leaned forward in his seat. "There are twelve barons, these represent the twelve oldest families of England. Between them they can rustle up twelve thousand warriors. In order to stand a chance we are going to need at least some of their support," Goosefat explained.

Rubio spoke up. "We can arrange a meeting with six of those families."

"Let me stop you there," Arthur interrupted shaking his head. This wasn't the right way to go about this. This wouldn't work. He breathed out sigh and pain flared once more.

The Mage could almost see the wheels turning in Arthur's head. The cunning. She bit back a smile. The rebels weren't going to know what hit them.

"If I may," he said politely. "Allow me to run you through those proceedings as I see them unfold," he said with an imitation of a genteel smile. "They will start by telling us that if we wish to galvanize the people of this country against the current king there has to be a realistic strategy. Strategy requires leadership. Then they'll bang on for a while about how clever and educated they are-" Arthur sat back and grimaced again.

The Mage wanted to help him, but couldn't do so in a room full of people. She could take the pain from him temporarily if she could touch him, but she hadn't figured out how to do that unobtrusively.

"How educated they are in the art of war, diplomacy, chivalry - and how underqualified I am. Pointing out that I was raised in a brothel and have no formal education of any kind. Then they'll start taking a piss and I'm gonna have to pull them on it. Congratulating them on their sense of humor. I'm going to be forced to tell them there's not a bollack between them at which point Bedivere you're gonna get very angry and tell me off. And say something along the lines of, 'what were you gonna do if they wanted to fight' and I'm gonna say 'I was never never gonna fight' and you're gonna say 'well what was gonna happen', and I'm gonna say 'that's what you're here Bedivere you big, silly, posh bastard'."

The room was perfectly silent, all held in the sway of Arthur's words. He drew their attention just as easily as The Mage would have done so with a spell but it had been on the strength of his personality alone. Now that he had command of the room he leaned forward, ignoring the pain in his ribs. "If you want Vortigern to stick his neck out in Londinium. You need to tease it out. You don't need twelve thousand fighting men for that. What you need is this little rabble," he said gesturing around the room.

Bedivere frowned, but conceded. "Okay, so how is that going to work?"

"If I'm moving too fast for you Bedivere you can let yourself out the side door," Arthur teased the large man.

"You seem to have found your way rather quickly," Bedivere said, cutting his eyes over to The Mage standing over Arthur's shoulder.

Arthur noticed and, not wanting The Mage to be made uncomfortable, kept talking and pulled Bedivere's focus back to him. He didn't want anyone deciding the Mage was the reason for his change of tune. Prejudice was dangerous and prejudice against magic had been around a long time. "Now come on kid, you're cooking us all dinner, right?"

Bedivere snorted and shook his head. He hated to admit it, but The Mage had been right. Arthur needed something to fight for, a reason to pick up the sword, and now that he had it, he embraced leadership as though it were second nature. He was the type of men other men wanted to follow and believe in. Like Uther.

Despite his words, several of the men helped pass around the food while they talked together. Arthur waited, letting the camaraderie grow before he drew the attention back to himself. He wanted them to brainstorm together, to talk and plan, even if it wasn't the plan he would execute. He needed to think like they were one fighting force instead of two.

The Mage was sitting off by herself away from the group. She pushed the food around her bowl as she listened quietly. Not liking that, Arthur took his bowl in one hand and limped across the room to sit beside her, making it clear to everyone watching that they were a team. The Mage was important.

When he dropped into the seat beside her she shot him an annoyed frown that made him smile brightly at her.

"This is seat taken?" He asked.

"If I said yes?" She asked in her thick accent.

Arthur snorted and sat down anyway with a pained sound. His face pinched up for a second before he could smooth it out. "Too bad," he said. "I'm here now and it's not likely I'll be ready to move for a while."

The Mage made an annoyed sound in the back of her throat. She held out her hand expectantly. When he just stared at her she rolled her eyes at his idiocy. "Give me your hand," she ordered.

Arthur lifted a brow and set his hand in hers. Her hand was so small it barely wrapped around his. She closed her eyes and spoke a few words. Then her body jerked like she had been struck and instantly all of the pain in Arthur's body dimmed. He scowled, rotating his shoulders. He didn't exactly feel like himself, but he felt like he had been healing for a month instead of a day.

Arthur quickly looked up into her face and scowled as he saw how drawn and tight her face was.

"What did you do?" He asked accusingly.

The Mage's breath was short as she fought to contain her reaction. Just half and she could barely stay focused. She couldn't believe the amount of pain Arthur could endure.

"I am your Mage, I shared your burden," she spoke the words slowly, as though it took longer for her to remember them and her accent was thicker than Arthur had ever heard it.

Arthur reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder. She sucked in a sharp breath and he knew where that shoulder injury had gone. He could shake her for her stupidity. "Undo it," he ordered, feeling almost frantic as he saw her face pale.

The Mages lips were thin and pale and she smiled weakly at him. "Not strong enough," she told him. "It will fade, it will only serve until
the sunrise," she told him. "I bound it to the night. You will have time to speak to your men and make a trap. They must believe in your strength."

Arthur glanced over at the long table where the men were laughing and talking together. None of them had noticed what happened. They had all gotten very good at ignoring his mage. His Mage. That was what she had called herself when her thoughts were too muddled to do anything but speak the truth as she knew it. He closed his hand into a fist and turned back to her.

"This was stupid," he snarled.

"Do not waste the gift," The Mage said gesturing towards the others.

Arthur grunted and climbed to his feet. He still leaned on the cane, but it wasn't strictly speaking necessary.

"What is it that Vortigern cares about more than anything else in the world?" Arthur challenged the group.

"Killing you," they all responded at the same time and then they laughed.

Arthur scoffed impatiently. He had perhaps let them drink longer than he should have. "Apart from that?" Arthur pressed.

"Getting the sword," they all said.

Arthur shook his head impatiently. "Come on, could someone help me out here please?"

The Mage cleared her throat and the room went silent at the small sound. Her face was still pale, but she pushed her voice to be heard across the room. "Finishing his tower," she said, her accent thick.

Arthur turned to face her, flashing her a grim smile in agreement but his eyes were still clouded with worry. He turned back to the others. "So what do we do about that?"

Rubio held his finger up. "Sink his barges, carrying his supplies."

Arthur snapped his fingers at Rubio in approval. "See, Wet Stick, Back Lack that's what an education gets you," he said proudly. "What else?"

"Interrupt his supply of slaves." Rubio suggested.

Arthur arched a brow. "How are we going to do that?"

"We know his transportation routes," Goosefat said with a pleased grin.

"Now we're warming up!" Arthur said with a grin. "Come on guys, other ideas?" he asked, and some of the girls behind them began talking quietly together.

Polly from the Poppy shrugged a shoulder. "Burn his favorite palace down," she suggested.

"How you gonna do that then?" Back Lack asked with a scowl.

Polly snorted. "I know the man who supplies brandy to the palace. Shipment first of the month."

"Now we got plans," Arthur said and when he caught Bedivere's eye the old knight lifted his goblet in silent salute.

The men stayed up late, drinking and chatting about the upcoming missions. But Arthur had kept his eyes on The Mage. When she finished her meal and moved to stand he excused himself. He stood with his back to the room, blocking their view of her. She grimaced as she climbed to her feet and nearly swayed and fell. His free hand caught her elbow to steady her. He followed her out of the room.

"I don't need your help," The Mage snarled at him. "The spell was to help you."

"Fat lot of good that did, now we're both hurt," he said sounding equally annoyed. He steered her towards her rooms.

"I don't want-" she was breathing hard now and it was difficult for her to catch her breath. "To sleep under stone," she told him. "I can't."

Arthur paused, ready to argue with the defiant little thing about climbing cliffs while she was injured, but there was something in the depths of her eyes. Something that made him pause. Fear.

Arthur finally sighed in resignation and helped her limp outside. "What the pair we make," he said with a laugh once they were finally out under the stars.

The Mage took a deep breath and let the night sky sooth her. Arthur helped her to a sheltered place not far from the cave mouth and they sat together, both breathing hard.

"I underestimated you," The Mage said, breathing hard. "For that I apologize," she said formally.

Arthur snorted. "I learned to take a beating before I was old enough to remember. Pain and I are old friends."

The Mage snorted and it hurt. She shook her head as she let her head fall back against the cool rock. She closed her eyes as the cool soothed her aches. "I meant your kindness," she told him.

Arthur made a noise in the back of his throat. "Don't go telling anyone," he warned.

The Mage chuckled and then winced but she didn't open her eyes. She was too tired.

~<>~

The slaves it turned out were the children that Vortigern had taken from their families. When The Mage learned about the conditions the children were being held in she understood Arthur's anger over it. They worked to come up with a plan for them to interrupt the slaves transportation route on the way to the tower construction site. The children were always brought in through town at night, no doubt to keep the good citizens from finding out what their King was up to. They would box them in at one of the narrowest junctures through town and release the children. 

Arthur was in his room, shrugging on his jacket with only moderate difficulty. He had pulled off the last of the bandages so he wouldn't stand out as a target. The only thing left were the bandages still wrapped around his ribs. The door of his room pushed open behind him without a knock. There were only so many people here bold enough for that.

He glanced over his shoulder and was unsurprised to see The Mage standing in the doorway watching him with shrewd eyes and a scowl. In the week it had taken them to plan the attack and wait for Arthur to heal The Mage had kept her distance from the rebels. She spend most of her time gathering herbs or sitting outside near the lake. Arthur didn't like that the others were uncomfortable around her and liked even less that she was clearly aware of it. 

Things between them had been, perhaps not friendly, because The Mage was never friendly, but easier since she had taken his burden from him that night. He had woken the next morning to the staggering pain as promised, but that one night of sleep had been a gift and he wouldn't forget it.

"Are you sure you're up to this?" The Mage asked him as blunt as ever. "You've only been without the cane for a few days."

"I've got it covered," he assured her. "You worry too much," he told her and he flashed her a teasing smile.

The Mage arched a brow unwilling to let him think his flirty smile worked on her. "I would hate to have put in all this work to have you die now." 

A wry grin twisted Arthur's lips. "Was that a joke?" He asked incredulously. "Did you just tell a joke?"

The Mage's lips twisted, but no other expression shone on her face. A pleased smile crossed Arthur's face as he realized it had been a joke. She was comfortable enough to tease him, even if it was as wry and stoic as ever. Progress.

"Are you taking the sword?" The Mage asked as Arthur took a step towards the door.

Arthur looked back over his shoulder where the sword was leaning against the wall near his bed. "Not this time," he told her.

She looked disappointed and Arthur felt it in his chest. The truth was, he still couldn't wield his father's sword. He at least wasn't passing out anymore, but the power was stubbornly refusing to yield to his will.

The Mage followed him out of the caves. They both swung up on their horses. She would follow them to town, but intended to stay just outside of the gates and use the eagle to watch over them. Arthur stayed close as they traveled to Camelot. It took most of the day and the sun had already set by the time they reached the city gates.

She nodded to Arthur as they went their separate ways.

"Be safe," he called after her. 

The Mage hesitated but nodded her head imperiously. "And you My King," she spoke the words that always made him squirm before turning away, satisfied.

~<>~

The plan went off without a hitch. Arthur and the others hid in a side alley and they swooped down on the guards as they passed with the prisoners. They moved in on the guards, killing them before they were able to put up much of a fight. The kids however didn't run when they were told. Instead they all stood, huddled together in the middle of the road, frozen in terror,. Arthur frowned and looked to Bedivere who just shrugged, not understanding either. He made a face like Arthur should scare them into running.

Arthur turned back to the kids. "Run!" he shouted, waving his hands in the air like a monster. When the kids all squealed and ran for freedom he grinned, the smile lighting his eyes. There was only a small part of him that was pleased by how it would inconvenient his Uncle. He hoped the kids found their ways back home.

Arthur lifted his gaze and spotted The Mage's eagle sitting on a post a few feet from him. He looked into the raptor's eyes and met her gaze through the bird. "Told you it would go off without a hitch," he said with a cheeky grin. There wasn't anything distinct to notify him it was her looking out at him and not just the bird, but he could feel it in his bones. He would recognize her shrewd glare regardless of the eyes she looked out of and if the eagle could roll its eyes he was sure she would be doing just that.

~<>~

Burning a palace down took more planning than freeing the slaves. The delivery date was set for the first of every month and it was several weeks before they were able to act on it.

The Mage decided to join them on this adventure as well. She didn't like the idea of staying behind while the others risked their lives for the cause. The Rebels all still seemed wary of her, but when she offered her services Arthur had immediately taken her up on it. It was a good opportunity to have a lookout that wouldn't arise suspicion.

They rode together back into Londinium. While the others avoided her, Arthur seemed to go out of his way to be near The Mage. She didn't know if he was doing it on purpose because the others avoided her or if it was because he was trying to annoy her to amuse himself on the journey. She certainly wouldn't put either past him now that they had gotten to know one another better.

Arthur and the crew from the Poppy were on point for this one. They knew Londinium better than any of the rebels. Arthur chose a rooftop not far from the palace where The Mage could have a clear view of their routes. While the others were preparing the wagon he turned back to her.

"Will this do?" He asked, even though what he really wanted to ask was if she would be all right. He was pretty sure she would turn him into a frog if he questioned her abilities, especially in front of the others.

The Mage looked around before she nodded imperceptibly. She turned and lifted her gaze to the sky. She connected with her eagle and brought it down so it perched near her on the ledge of the roof, then she let it's mind free.

"Right," Arthur said, fascinated how quickly her changed from her to her eagles and back again. "We'll be off then. If all goes well we'll be back in less than an hour," he said pulling a worn hood up to hide his face.

"And if it doesn't go well?" The Mage asked.

"Then we'll meet in the old bathhouse like we planned," Arthur said. "You worry about getting yourself there. We'll make our way on the streets."

The Mage nodded. "Aren't you concerned you will be recognized?" she asked.

Arthur flashed her a cheeky grin. "Who me?" he asked impishly. "I'm nobody," he told her and he turned to climb down the ladder to where the Brandy wagon was waiting.

The Mage connected with the eagle and used it to track their progress through the city. She did lazy circles high above the rooftops in the clouds where it wouldn't arouse suspicion. She was able to watch as they were waved through the gate and sent around to the servants entrance. Arthur was right, the guards didn't look at their group twice.

They were fast unloading the barrels. They were back out of the gate, with gold in their pockets before the first whisps of smoke began to rise above the roofline. She swung the eagle out in an even larger circle to keep the bird free from the smoke. By the time the Brandy wagon rolled past the building she was crouched upon and the men hopped out, the fire was clearly visible. It took hold and, try as they might, the guards weren't able to keep it from spreading to the entire wing of the palace.

Arthur swung up the ladder with a cheeky grin and stepped up beside her. "See," he said, clearly pleased with himself. "Not a problem."

The Mage grunted, but didn't bother with a response. Instead, she continued to stay connected with the eagle to monitor if any guards were being sent out after the Brandy wagon. The distributor was already long gone, having taken a generous sum from Bedivere to relocate himself and his family.

Arthur watched the Mage. It was one of the first times he had been this close to her when she stayed connected with an animal. Usually, if he approached her she would drop the connection, looking self conscious. This time, she ignored him and continued to search. It was odd to see the eagles eyes shining out of her face. Eerie looking, but it was like he could almost feel the power radiating off of her. He liked it, unbidden he took half a step towards her before he could stop himself.

The Mage blinked and her shoulders sagged as she came back to herself. The power that had been in the air dropped and Arthur reached down and caught her elbow in his hand briefly to steady her. Once he was sure she had her feet he released her and stepped back.

The Mage was panting lightly as she turned to the group. "No one is in pursuit," she told them. She couldn't quite look the Future King in the face, not without blushing. Which was foolish.

"Nothing to do but sit back and watch the show," Arthur said with a pleased grin. If he noticed how uncomfortable the Mage was, he didn't do her the disservice of drawing attention to it.

The others got comfortable and they watched as the BlackLegs tried and failed to contain the fire.

"What a waste of brandy," Back Lack lamented after a few moments.

"But doesn't it make Vortigern's favorite palace burn well?" Arthur asked with a cocky grin.

~<>~