Hey!

I have no excuse for not updating earlier. Final exams happened, and then every time I sat down to write this final chapter, I couldn't decide what to do to Morgana, or how to end this fic (you will see after reading this that I ended up not deciding and leaving all the doors open :D).

Don't forget to review!

Merlin turned in his bed, stirring contentedly, before opening his eyes. He looked on his right out of the window, and simply lay on his back, listening to the birds, while he traced the contours of the citadel with his bright blue eyes.

He frowned. He was leaving Camelot today. His brothers, Arthur, the knights, a couple of druids, Gaius and his mother were going to Semloh for victory celebrations. Merlin could not help but sense that his brothers, especially Mycroft, wanted him to stay in Semloh and not come back to live in Camelot. But Merlin did not feel like a Prince – a few days ago he was but a manservant, albeit an all-powerful manservant-. He had enjoyed his life in Camelot as a hidden warlock, and although the "hidden" part was no more now that the whole kingdom knew that Merlin rhymed with Emrys, he really wanted to keep his life as a servant to Arthur, apprentice to Gaius and protector of the city.

He knew that he would take up his responsibilities without a doubt if need arose, but Camelot was his home, not Semloh.

But afterall, he had magic, so he could just teleport between the two kingdoms with just a thought. He smiled at that realisation.

Looking at the sun, he yawned again, stretching, before hopping out of his bed, jumping down the small steps and greeting Gaius with a large grin.

Gaius looked up from the parchment he was scribbling on.

"Merlin, have you finished packing? We are leaving in an hour!

Merlin rolled his eyes, waving his fingers in the air and making golden sparks dance between them.

"You do know that if I forget something, I can teleport myself here and back again?"

Gaius stood up with a fond smile, before taking the parchment he had been writing on and handing it to the warlock.

"I know, my boy, I know. That is why I am sending you to collect some plants for me before we leave." He smirked, and gave the manservant-turned-prince a ruffled bag.

Merlin stuck his tongue out at him before hopping out of the room and heading towards the forest.

He could see the knights and the druids having a last training session before leaving for Semloh. Since the battle, they had organised shared trainings to learn how to fight hand in hand; Arthur had told Merlin of his plans for the druids' living arrangements.

He crossed the market place, observing the people around him with a smile. Some stopped him, thanking him, staring at him with awe. All had a spring in their step; druids and Camelotians went side by side in the gently starting morning. He laughed quietly – Uther would have a fit just thinking about such a peaceful, harmonious scene -.

He was just reaching the city's gates when someone called his name. He turned and greeted his brothers with a wide smile.

"Mycroft, Sherly! Are you up to collecting some plants in the forest before we head to Semloh?"

The eldest royals looked at each other with a smile, nodded, and all went into the forest.

Sherlock watched with twinkling eyes as his younger brother explained to Mycroft and him the uses of all the plants he collected with the ease of a practiced physician. Merlin seemed relaxed, far from the worries of the previous days.

The Semlohians, King Arthur, Queen Guinevere, and the Camelotian council had gone through hours of debate on what to do with Morgana, who was currently held in the dungeon, her magic bound by Merlin. The warlock had healed the knife wound on her arm; Moriarty's blade had been poisoned and she would have died within minutes if not for Merlin.

The last week had been exhausting for his little brother. Sherlock could see from how Merlin acted around Morgana during the cell interrogations that he could not bring himself to hate her or let her suffer; having to debate on how to execute her and the renegade sorcerers who had not died in battle had taken its toll on the young warlock. The day before, during yet another council meeting, some had shouted for execution by pyre, blaming Merlin for healing Morgana's arm; others had asked for exile. The matter was still undecided, but for now all were heading to Semloh to congratulate the army and celebrate the victory for a few days.

Sherlock was abruptly shaken from his thoughts by Camelot's infamous warning bells, which started to ring through the forest. Mycroft looked up sharply, ready to run back to the citadel, but Merlin laughed.

"That must be Arthur getting really annoyed at me because we are not yet at the meeting point. Hold onto my arm."

The three brothers disappeared from the forest, teleported away by a flash of Merlin's eyes.

Merlin watched as his surroundings gradually changed from the forest to the main courtyard. It slowly appeared in full view; his two brothers let go of his arm.

Merlin sensed Arthur walking up from behind him, ready to scold him for nearly being late. He turned with a sheepish smile. He was just meeting the King's eyes when a loud shriek resounded in his ears, tearing through his body.

Darkness engulfed him.

Merlin swallowed in.

Silence.

Overwhelming silence was all that greeted him.

His legs nearly gave out as he vividly recalled the sensations at losing his magic a few days prior. As if to reassure him, his magic swirled inside him, humming in his ears. Merlin held up a shaky palm.

A bird squawked overhead, making the young warlock jump.

Taking a small, shaking breath, he whispered:

"Leóth."

A soothingly warm flame appeared in his open palm, lighting up his surroundings.

Camelot's courtyard gradually fizzled into existence around him. It was empty.

Merlin had a double-take at that; the flame in his hand nearly flickered out.

Holding his hand a bit higher, he poured more magic into the spell.

All the celebrating banners, all the flowers, everything had seemingly vanished. Even the courtyard seemed different.

Merlin felt a rush of dizziness swallow him, making him stagger. The magic around him felt different, faint and tainted.

He was about to probe out his surroundings with a flash of his eyes when he felt something cold dig into his neck from behind. A low, baritone voice broke the crushing silence.

"Who are you?"

Merlin's neck burnt where the cold object was touching him. That unnatural thing was making his magic recoil. With his last shreds of strength, he turned, but did not get to see the face of the mysterious man. Black dots permeated his sight and magic hums rushed to his eardrums as he collapsed.

Conspiracies will have a sequel.

Now the thing is: what kind of universe would you like?

A story still based in the Merlin universe?

A story based in the Sherlock BBC timeline?

Or a new crossover with another fandom aka Harry Potter or maybe the Avengers?

Or just a proper epilogue disregarding this last sequence and putting a nice happy ending to this fanfic?

In any case, don't forget to comment, and if you do want a sequel I will try to update it more regularly than this fic. Having a new plot to work on should boost my writing (writing an end to this fic was really hard as I could not bring me to wrap this up).

Airin9