Winter grips the west coast of Albion hard, the small villages flooding frequently before the very seas freeze. The castle of Tintagel stands above the half frozen sea of Meredor, the small fishing town huddled in it's shadow. Tintagel sits atop it's own island, the path to the mainland cut raggedly into the cliff edges before forming into swing bridges. It is not an easy place to live but it is safe.

Morfydd shivers before the bowl of water and lays her bare stocking clad feet against Aithusa's side, who sits below. The dragon can be found on most days huddled by the large fire and the girl is not far behind. Morgana smiles.

"What do you see in the water?" she had been pleased to discover the girl had the gift of sight, however that is where the similarities end. Morfydd is shy and has to be encouraged to ask questions. How can Urien have such a timid daughter?

"...Ice?" she says, her northern accent soft. Morgana leans forward and sees a skim of ice in the bowl and smiles at the girl.

"Sit by Aithusa, the bowl in your lap."

She does it, huddling in the dragon's warmth, who Morgana knows loves the contact and attention. Since coming to Tintagel the dragon has soared over the raging seas, something that the damaged dragon wouldn't dream of doing a year ago. Morgana stares out of the narrow window and is met with a land blanketed in snow.

"Now focus...what do you see?"

She hears the girl sigh and then silence. The sky is a spotless blue but she can see mist on the horizon, though she does not think it will move inland. She has missed this changeable land.

"I see...nothing," comes Morfydd defeated voice and Morgana turns. Steam rises from the bowl and the girl is squirting with all her might. Morgana laughs and takes the bowl from her lap.

"Ice and dragons don't mix. Go on, you've done enough for today. I think your brother is with Galahad." Owain has come with his twin and since Galahad arrived the boy has been training under the knight.

Morfydd smiles but it does not reach her eyes. Morgana leans down and touches her cheek. "You have done nothing wrong. Not many your age can do what you do. Now go and play."

Morfydd smiles, her face going red and with a happy noise she turns and runs from the room. Aithusa rises, grumbling at the loss before settling down. Morgana cocks an eyebrow.

"You are a distraction. I am trying to teach her you know!"

Aithusa lifts her snout and wings in a shrug. The dragon will soon be too big for the room, barely fitting through the door. She will have to build her a purpose built dwelling…

As she thinks this she hears the gate opening, the hinges cracking audibly, and leaves the room. Reaching the courtyard she sees the hooded visitor and she grins, throwing out her arms.

"Mordred!"

The knight has been out of her life for months, either in Camelot or across the sea. He had sent word that he would like to spend the next two weeks with her and Kara. He smiles, pushing back his hood and embraces her. Kara emerges from the castle, Galahad not far behind.

"I've missed your face," he breathes as he catches sight of Kara, who smiles as he pull her into his arms. Mordred look at Galahad, who stands a respectful distance and smirks. "Yours too monk."

"Thank you druid," Galahad inclines his head, mock serious and Morgana looks between them. The monk and druid have formed a surprisingly tight friendship. Though not so surprising, she considers, they are cut from the same noble cloth. Her gaze turns to Kara, who stares at the two men and her stomach falls. It is a familiar feeling now. She hides it well and would outright deny it but Morgana has seen the way the younger woman's gaze lingers on Galahad.

Not that the monk would know, he seems quite sure that the druid girl hates him and Kara does not give him any reason to doubt that.

"Next time Arthur sends you across the sea you will not be going alone."

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad."

"I was dying of boredom," she whines and Galahad looks aside, smiling down at Owain who appears at his side. Like his twin the boy is shy but a little more forthright than his sister.

"Who can be bored when a dragon sleeps beside your bed?" he whispers and Galahad shrugs. The cup he guards is housed in a box slung over his back, a thing that Morgana has made him. None can take the cup but she has enchanted the box to open only for him. She will take no chances.

"Come in from the cold."

The white dragon rushes to the door, excited to have new guests. The twins sit by the fire as the adults eat and drink until the sunsets over the frozen sea. Sending the grumbling children to bed Morgana asks Mordred for news.

"As you know, I didn't even get to talk to Vortigern. They let me leave unhindered but I thought they would kill me. From what I saw and heard they don't seem to be planning to attack."

Morgana nods. She had never believed they would seek war in such weather. "Whatever the seers saw they must be mistaken. No one attacks during winter."

They fall into a thoughtful silence, the noise from the half frozen sea a constant companion. She gazes at Mordred, who seems lost in the fire. She wonders what he thinks of and what is troubling him. She is pulled from her reverie when Kara stands and brings Mordred up with her.

"Sleep calls," Kara says and Galahad stands politely. The girl ignores him, her arm linked through Mordred's. Once alone the knight sits back down. Unlike most of the knight he still favours white. He shines in the dark. The box he carries everywhere is on the table, small and unadorned.

"Have you enjoyed your time here?"

"Oh yes. Where I lived before it was just me and the other brothers. It's nice not to be the youngest..."

"Feeling broody?"

His face goes red. "I'm not much older then they are."

"Old enough to father children. Elmet is your land and one day you'll have to pass it on."

"One day," he stresses, very uncomfortable and Morgana drops it. Her hand settles on her stomach. The dreams of the girl have been constant, a wonderful release after so many nightmares. She is beginning to wake in the morning expecting to see the girl at the end of her bed. When she wakes alone she battles down disappointment. Her desire for that future grows stronger every day.

She bids Galahad goodnight, moving to her feet when Aithusa rushes to the window and Morgana follows, frowning. The day has been clear and cold, but the mist she saw over the sea now blinds her view, a swirling whiteness. She rubs the dragon on the head, smiling but then stills. The mist spirals in patterns, the movement caught by the light of the fire behind her. She lifts her hand and her skin tingles as the fog touches her.

"Magic…"

Too large to fit through the window Aithusa races from the room and moments later she sees her white bulk descending from the tower roof above her chamber. Morgana and Galahad make their way through the castle, after the knight grabs the box.

"Is it an attack? I can't see anything," he asks and Morgana shakes her head. She knows what this is and an involuntary smile plays over her mouth. Bursting into the freezing cold she pulls her furs up around her neck and throws out an arm to make Galahad stop.

"Aithusa," she says quietly and after a pause a flume of fire issues above, dissolving the mist. Their path illuminated in bursts of light they follow the dragon above, who leads them to the cliff edge. At first she sees nothing through the mist until a small dark shape materialises, hidden amongst some bent over trees. A hut.

Morgana smirks, eyeing Galahad before she leans down and raps her knuckles swiftly on the door.

"Trespassers are punished!"

"...How bad?" comes a low voice after a pause.

"Depends how quickly you're going to make us wait in the cold."

Morgana steps back as Merlin opens the makeshift door. Beyond the hut is small and sparse, just a thin bed and weak fire. He did not want his presence noticed, she thinks. She cocks an eyebrow at him and then waves her hand in the air. The mist swirls around her like a veil.

"If you wanted to hide you've done a poor job Merlin. This mist screams your whereabouts."

"I haven't finished yet," he counters. It has been months since she saw him and in that time his hair has grown, curling over his forehead and a beard is starting to grow. He looks half wild. A heat flashes through her before she immediately starts to shiver.

"We should let him get back to it," Kara says from behind them and Morgana turns. She and Mordred are making their way to them, a ball of fire illuminating their path. The druid girl regards Merlin with the same distaste and part of Morgana is amused. She is the one who has been hurt and yet Kara is the one who will not let her ire go. The girl is all bristle and stone.

"This is no condition to sleep in the elements," Galahad reprimands gently and Kara snarls at him. Morgana is pleased to see the knight hold his ground. "It is bad form to refuse guests."

"If they're welcome," Kara replies dryly, looking at Morgana expectantly. Years ago Morgana would smirk and leave Merlin to sleep in the snow and not before snuffing out his fire. Now she looks at the lonely man and narrow her eyes.

"Are you hungry?"

"...Starving," he answers, eyes mirroring hers, looking for a catch. Morgana turns, moving past the others and they follow. When Merlin does not she stops and tilts her head at him.

"Well? Or do you want to be snowed in by morning? I'm not going to dig you out."

Merlin smiles and hastily grabs his things from the hut before following her into the castle.

"Some town folk are starting to charge people to draw the sword from the stone," Morgana shakes her head, goblet of hot wine in her hand. Merlin shakes his head, groaning as she speaks. "Arthur had a wooden fence made but that didn't keep them out so he's replacing it with iron."

"Has he even tried yet?"

"You know the answers to that. He pretends it's not there until something like this happens."

"Does he really think it's a trick?"

"...I don't think he ever has. I think he's scared."

Merlin sighs tiredly, rubbing his face. They are sat at the small table in her study, an eaten plate of food before him. Since he has been travelling up the east coast he has missed a lot of news. "He has nothing to be frightened of. He is the rightful king."

"I think even if he did pull it out he would still need to prove himself. He has been working tirelessly to welcome those with magic into Camelot, he's even in talks with the Catha."

"That's great," Merlin says and though he means it his gaze falls to his cup. Morgana leans forward, voice soft.

"He will come around. He needs you by his side."

"I thought Mordred was that person."

Morgana leans back, remembering her harsh words. "Mordred has done a lot to further the freedom of our people...but he cannot be the king's friend."

"Friend? I'm not even considered good enough to clean his boots any more."

"Which is a good thing. Arthur needs to witness what you can do, the sword was the first. He needs to put the ghost of servant Merlin to rest."

He snorts. "He banished me Morgana, I'm not dead."

"The person you were is, just as the person I was is no more."

Merlin gazes at her, his eyes conflicted. "I don't know...I wander, sometimes with the druids but mostly alone. Though they would have come with me but I thought the isolation would help me see," he shakes his head. "I'm not a servant any more but I'm not like you."

"Like me?"

"You...wear the role so comfortably. High Priestess."

Morgana makes a derisive noise and puts her cup down. "I have no idea what I'm doing Merlin. All those that came before me are dead and their knowledge and wisdom with them. I'm just weaving bits and pieces together and hoping no one notices. It is a role, a performance, but I think if you do it often enough it stops being make believe."

She feels comfortable with her duty now more than ever. Her purpose is clear and her resolve unwavering. She would do this even if no magic ran through her veins. She is doing what she feels is right.

"This age is coming to an end…" he mutters and Morgana stares at him with wide eyes. He straightens, smiling apologetically. "Knowledge is sparse, places of magic are hidden or threatened and our numbers are weak since the purge."

"What are you saying?"

"I go from seaside port to fishing village, making the beacons and I wonder what's the point. Magic is coming to an end."

"No. You of all people should not believe that. Didn't the Dragon tell you that a Golden Age is awaiting us?" his despondency make her stomach tighten.

"He did but then I think that old beast likes to twist his words. A Golden Age...but for who?"

"Merlin I think you've been by yourself too long. Have another drink," she pushes his cup back into his hands and he takes it with a small smile.

"I'm a morose drunk," he jokes and sits back. He regards her closely, gaze longing and Morgana lifts an eyebrow until he drops it.

"You can't have finished all of the beacons to the east. What are you doing here?"

"...You know why. The dragon lies but he was not wrong about you. I asked you to stay away from the coast during winter."

"This is my home," she counters, lifting her chin. "I'm not some little defenceless thing you have to protect Merlin. My magic has been growing stronger," she reveals and he grins, leaning up.

"Really? That's wonderful."

Morgana nods. Since teaching the girl the bouts of sickness and dizzy spells are not as strong as they once were. Whatever the sister did to twist her mind it seems to be releasing it's grip. "So don't worry, I'm not going to slip on some ice and die."

Merlin does not laugh. "I don't have visions as frequently as you but they happen. I - I've been dreaming about you every night and the closer I come the stronger they are."

"Maybe you should have stayed away," she answers without thinking and he stiffens. He blinks in consideration, breathing heavier.

"Maybe you're right," he stands and she goes up with him. She places her hands on his arms, making him stop.

"Nothing is going to happen to me. I've spent too long being helpless and I won't become that again. Stop trying to save me, you've already done it."

Merlin nods and smiles at her. "I understand," he moves back respectfully and then a light of excitement shines in his eyes. "I actually want to show you something." He pulls the large leather bag he brought with him and pulls out a wooden box.

"A chess board? Do you want to play a game? Prepare for defeat," she says brightly but he shakes his head with a smile.

"It was but not any more. And if this was a chess board I think you're the one who should be prepared for disappointment. I have an unbeaten record."

"Hmm that's because you've never played me. What is it?"

"A map of Albion."

The box has two wooden flaps covering it, ornately carved with a scrolling pattern. Morgana expects to see a map carved into the board within but when he opens the box she stops breathing.

The island, from the highlands of the north to the tip of the coast where she resides, lies within a half frozen ocean. She leans closer, still holding her breath, and sees seagulls swooping over waves, snow blowing against the side of a cottage and the cold from the frozen mountains chills her face. She looks south, searching for the isle of the blessed and squints. The vast castle has tiny scaffolding along equally tiny walls. If she could rise a thousand feet up in the air and look down on Albion she thinks this is what she will see.

The map is alive.

All the air escapes her lungs and she leans back. Merlin has not said a word through her inspection and she sees he's waiting in apprehensive silence. She stares at him open mouthed before she can speak.

"You - you made this?"

"Yes. I got the idea from the map in Amata. Only this one shows where the beacons are placed," he points and she looks down again. She had not noticed before, too overwhelmed, but along the east coast she sees minuscule lights twinkling through scuffs of mist. The beacons.

"How have you done this? Who taught you?"

"No one. I just, well, I had some time on my hands," he shrugs and Morgana can't help gawp at him. He has no idea how astounding he is.

"Merlin this is beyond impressive. I've never seen anything like this and I doubt anyone else has either. It's alive! I can see candle light shining from windows! You've made the map night time and I bet it shines with light when the sun rises! You have created something new and it's...beautiful."

As she says this something Merlin had said before comes back. This age is coming to an end and she had bulked at it but maybe it is not something to be frightened of. She grins at him, swept with his innovation and grasps his arm.

"Imagine if it was the globe…" he says thoughtfully, looking at the map like he's not quite happy with it and Morgana laughs.

"You said this age is coming to an end. All the magic we perform is old and worn out but maybe this is a sign. We're meant to build something new."

"Together," he adds happily and she nods. He laughs and takes her arms in his hands, pulling her towards him. "I never thought you'd be so...impressed."

"For once you are not a clotpole Merlin," she pulls back, thinking of all he could teach her and a hunger for it grows inside her. "You have to write it down, pass it on," she thinks of her own students and suddenly pictures him teaching beside her.

"I didn't really follow instructions, I just…" he waggles his fingers at the box and she narrows her eyes.

"What else can you do?"

"What do you want?" his lips quirk.

"Surprise me," she whispers, her mind and body warm and open. Months ago she told him they would ruin each other, now it feels like they can only renew.

"Close your eyes," he instructs gently and she does it. She inhales when he takes her hands and slowly laces his fingers through hers. For a moment nothing happens but then she feels a faint pulse, like a heartbeat, one that throbs around her. Tingles flow from their hands, down her arms in a gentle caress and her mouth parts, exhaling at the feeling. Her own heart beating hard she leans closer, unable to stop herself. For all the time she has known Merlin she has never felt his magic, it's presence more like a void but now he is sharing it with her.

Her magic is like a sun sitting in her chest, pooling its heat through her and she can draw on the magic around her like a sponge but as she gasps and sways his magic overwhelms her in it's vastness. His magic flows from the ground at their feet, from the air drawing into his mouth and the heart beating wildly in his chest. His blood flows gold.

Merlin is magic and magic is Merlin.

She gasps, her fingers gripping his tightly and he tugs her to him and she wraps her arms around his neck, wanting more, her eyes squeezed shut as if she's blinded by the sun. Never has he shared this with anyone, to open yourself up in such a way is when they are at their most vulnerable. Anyone else she could channel his magic and sap him dry. But not Merlin. Merlin, duplicitous, confused but kind Merlin could sink Albion with this power and in the face of such strength it produces a fear deserved for gods.

But she is not frightened, she is transcended.

"The goddess created you," she whispers, finally opening her eyes to meet his. They glow like gold. He does not answer. He pulls her forward and their lips touch, a soft meeting but the magic erupts, flowing uncontrolled around the room. Tables and chairs shaking, pictures swinging, he pulls the furs she wears away from her body, making her shiver but his hands burn through the fabric of her dress and she wants to feel them on her bare skin. She guides them towards her canopy bed, never breaking away from him but as her legs touch the furs hanging off the end of the bed he pulls back.

"Are you sure?"

She has been imagining this moment since dreaming of her daughter but never thought the emotion rushing through her possible. She gazes into his eyes and she can feel how restrained he is, how taut and wants to feel what it is like when he snaps free. That is a titillating promise but also a great risk. Her heart is a guarded thing, bruised and secretly soft and pliable. She will not survive it being broken again.

"I said I'd take your heart once. If you hurt me I'll do it and never give it back. I promise."

"And I said it's already yours," he whispers, lips brushing hers before he regards her seriously. "I never want to hurt you again, like you I want a new beginning and I won't do anything to risk that. I love you, even if you don't."

His soft words sink in and his magic pulses through her. She inhales, trying to keep herself together. She cannot tell him what he wants to hear but maybe she can start somewhere. "I don't know what tomorrow will bring but tonight I know what I want," she brushes her fingers along the stubble of his jaw, her mouth hovering at the corner of his lips before whispering in his ear. "Show me who you want to be."

He exhales, a pent up shudder, and then he picks her up and lays her down on the bed. The last time they had made love she had felt a similar desire, spurned by alcohol and a fair amount of jealousy only for it to end in dissatisfaction. Now with nothing left to hide and magic building between them Merlin does not pull away and she finally lets the tight walls around her heart unfurl.

He whispers a spell and the ribbons keeping her dress together slide apart, revealing her heaving chest. In the past she had caught a look in his eyes, a dark predatory gleam and something in his gaze shines like that now, a fierce want and desire. She curls her lips, hands by her head and watches him strip her bare, woollen stockings the last thing to be removed, and when she is naked beneath him she rises and rips his shirt off with her hands.

They are not gentle and she's not sure they can be, not with so much power throbbing around them, waiting for an outlet. Moaning she drags her nails down his chest and is rewarded with a growl before he grabs her hands and pushes them down.

"I think I'll miss our fights," she says, bucking under him and he gasps. This tension would erupt one way or another, be it fighting or through other means...

"This is much, much better," he groans, mouth against her cheek and she smiles up at the canopy and then captures his mouth, parting his lips with her tongue. They kiss and the tension in her stomach loosens and she lets herself sink into the feel of him. He moves between her legs, and golden eye to eye he pushes into her.

The magic laps over her and then inside like molten waves, slow but steady. She releases a low moan at the feeling. It's an utter completion.

"How did I never sense this?"

"It - it's not like with anyone else?" he asks, curious and she shakes her head.

"Not with magic...but you're not like anyone else. It feels..." she shudders, unable to put it into words.

"I know," he kisses her mouth gently and then begins to move and she rolls her hips, placing her hands against his back. He rises up on his arms and she draws her knees back, the smile on her face a clear challenge and with a fierce gleam he thrusts hard into her, making her neck arch with pleasure. She is a dominant lover, she likes to feel men come apart below her, not allowing herself the same position because sex had always been a game of power and who holds it. When she starts gasping his name, pleading and mewing for more a part of her is startled at the unabashed writhing response but soon she is too far gone to care.

Bed thumping against the stone wall and her cries echoing around them the power, connected through a cosmic tether, starts to vibrate and it sings in their ears, growing deeper and louder until their hard and fast rhythm starts to come apart, ecstasy reaching a fevered pitch.

Unable to speak or breathe as this feeling rolls over them in waves, bodies beading with sweat and strained with feeling they cling to each other until he spills into her heat and the scream trapped in her throat is freed. Orgasm blasting through her she senses something in that hot dazzling sensation and it fills her with a helpless joy.

This was always meant to be. Like calls to like.

Sated and feeling comfortably normal she lies on her stomach, looking down at the map as Merlin traces shapes along her bare back. She points.

"I can't see Tintagel." The castle, coast and town is obscured by mist.

"I haven't completed the spell yet. Once I do you'll see a little light. If anyone tries to attack or invade they'll never find any land...if they break through the light will shine a warning."

"What is the light?"

"A bowl of oil. I place a stone marker, with a rune cut into it, and carve a place for the bowl and then light it. The flames will never go out."

"Never?" she hovers her finger above the mist and then lowers it. The fog parts around her finger and then reforms. The sea does the same.

"It'll die when the magic fades from the land...which won't happen if I can help it," he adds and she smiles.

"That sounds like the Merlin I know. So you'll be able to see who is coming?"

"To a degree. I wasn't joking about making a bigger map," Merlin lays down beside her and she turns to him with a smile and cocked eyebrow.

"It doesn't seem fair that you get to keep this and probably a bigger one at some point."

"Well you can make one of your very own," he kisses her cheek and she looks down, feeling warm. "I warn you, it can be quite addictive."

"I never took you for a voyeur," she smiles teasingly at him and he brushes his lips against her shoulder.

"Only out of necessity...I don't look at anyone but you," he adds softly and she has to look away. Since meeting Urien at Samhain she has spent some time in his company. She reasons it as getting to know the father of the children in her care. He has been blunt about his interest in her and given the chance he would make her his queen but no throne can take her away from her duty.

"You have nothing to be jealous of Merlin. I don't have time to waste on men."

"Then what is this?"

"A breath, time between the seconds," she says and means it before she smirks at him. "And I'm not sure you're even human so I suppose you're an exception."

"I'm flattered."

"You should be," she kisses him hard before straddling him. Hands on his chest, which is pleasingly broad, she starts to very gently gyrate and he grips her hips.

"I like your castle."

"Thank you. I grew up here but I hadn't been back in years. I feel...at home here. What about you?"

"I actually took your advice. I found a heavily wooded place, not far from here and that's where I live...when I'm not with my mother. It's called Dinas Emrys."

Morgana grins. "How fitting. I suppose you're just reclaiming what is yours."

"You don't really believe those tales do you? I'm not immortal, I was born and I'll die."

"I think we've been here before and we'll return after death. So I know that I'll see the people I've lost again," she stares up at the wall, which is cast with half shadows shaped like birds through the carved screen before the fire. Before she can let the sadness take her those shadow birds start to flap and then all at once they take flight. "Merlin!"

"I used to do this as a child, when the shadows frightened me," he answers as the birds fly from one wall to another, swooping up to the arched ceiling above and back down. A murmuration. Morgana smiles, meeting his gaze and touches his face.

"There's a little girl afraid of the dark who I think would appreciate your trick," as she says it the image of a wild haired little girl standing fearless above the sea of Meredor settles in her mind and she feels a strong throb of longing. She stares down at Merlin, who smiles softly and she circles her thumb against the coin lying against his chest, strung on a black cord. It is much smaller now. She could erase all traces of their coupling, which is what she had considered but now, with her eyes fixed on his, she slowly sinks down on him and the shadow birds take wing again, making the room a shifting kaleidoscope of light and dark...

The vision is abrupt and startling in it's detail and a part of her knows it is because of the magic she and Merlin had just shared. Standing in the corner of the room she has just fallen asleep in she watches as an older version of herself turns from the window as someone walks into the room.

"You shouldn't be here, you agreed."

At first Morgana thinks she has been seen but the man who walks in answers. Morgana's stomach drops when she sees Merlin. He is a little older and the beard seems to be a permanent feature. He strides in, tall and self possessed.

"I wouldn't be here if it wasn't important and seeing as you won't answer me here I am."

"I know what you're here to say so I'll save you the trouble and give you my answer: I don't believe you."

Merlin stops before her, his face thunderous. "He's a traitor! He always has been but you won't see, you don't want to."

"I see fine. I see your jealousy and pride and it's twisting suspicion into fact," she answers, angry but she quickly reins it in. Her gaze softens. "Please, just let this go. After everything we've been through, all the battles and successes, you have to trust me."

"It's not you I don't trust," he whispers and lifts a hand as if to caress her face but he tightens it into a fist instead. "If you won't listen to me I'll have to make you."

"Haven't you learned? Pushing me never works."

They stare at each other, the air chill and before either can move a small shape skips into the room.

"Uncle says that he'll wear one of your dresses before he tries tripe. I've come to pick one out for him mummy. Auntie Gwen says blue, to bring out his eyes," the girl, now seven or eight pauses when she sees the two adults squaring off.

"Come here," Morgana says and the girl runs into her arms. At the sight of the child Merlin has grown tense but at the sight of her face he exhales.

"Hello Vivian."

Morgana, who stands observing this vision from the corner of the room, feels her heart swell at the sound of the girl's name. She is named after Morgana's mother, her grandmother.

"Hello...you're the court magician," she says politely, looking a little awed and Merlin nods. He looks like someone has plunged a sword into his chest.

"That's right," he has trouble speaking and he swallows convulsively. His eyes are two burning blue fires, filled with love and desperation. Morgana, who holds Vivian, gives him a warning look over the girl's head and Merlin steps back. Whatever is going on the two seem to have an arrangement, though not a happy one.

"I'm going to the isles this year. I'm eight," Vivian says proudly and Merlin smiles. Morgana shakes her head.

"We've talked about this Viv. Your studies will be here."

The little girl slumps, looking disappointed and Merlin smiles gently. He strains forward, as if he wants to take the girl in his arms. Instead he looks down and with a puff of smoke a velvet dress appears.

"Gwen is right, blue it the king's colour."

Vivian laughs and takes the dress from him. They watch her run from the room, shouting for Arthur as she tries not to trip over the hem. Matching expressions of tender bemusement turn to each other before it fades. Merlin's gaze becomes hard.

"If you won't do it for yourself than consider it for her sake...because if you don't then I will," the words are a threat and Morgana's eyes blaze. The two magicians step back from each other and the air becomes electric, magic waiting to be unleashed.

Morgana, still standing in the corner, holds out a hand, shouts at them to stop but as a flash of light blinds her she throws a hand over her eyes and with a gasp she bolts awake. Merlin turns sharply, morning light shining through the gap in the bed drapes he has pushed aside. He smiles down at her.

"Good morning. Time to finish the beacon."

Since dressing and eating breakfast she has been unable to get the vision out of her mind and it has obscured the blissful night before. The child is theirs, she is sure but the girl, Vivian, does not know who her father is. Why? What happens to them? She wants to dream again, dream until it all makes sense.

They make their way outside, the snow up to their shins and the mist swirls as thickly as before. She watches as Merlin walks ahead, talking to Galahad. Behind her Kara and Mordred follow. The twins are still asleep.

"You carry it with you everywhere? It seems a heavy burden...I'm sorry," Merlin says to Galahad, who has the box slung over his back.

"It's not your fault Merlin. You didn't pick me, it was...divine ordinance," the knight in white says and Kara scoffs loudly behind them. They stop at the cliff edge, where Merlin has planted the stone marker.

"You're probably the most noble person I've ever met. I wish you could have met Lancelot, you remind me of him."

"I would have liked to. I just want to do the right thing," he says, shifting the box containing the cup against his hip.

"Still, it's a burden you carry."

"...I suppose all precious things are," Galahad answers and his gaze lingers on Kara before looking way. The snide look on her face is wiped away and she blinks oddly into the mist. Morgana hugs herself, cold despite Aithusa being so close.

Merlin frowns. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Do you need help?"

He stares at her, not convinced but he nods without prodding her for more. When he turns away she exhales. She does not know how to act around him. They follow him to a stone embedded in the earth, the only thing that the mist does not shroud.

"I need you to etch this rune into the stone as I read aloud the spell," he draws a rune into the snow, which she recognises as an ancient name for the kingdom they stand in. Morgana leans down, the light weak despite the sun trying to break through the mist. She stares up at Merlin and when he nods she begins carving slowly, working at the speed of his speaking pace. Mordred leads Aithusa closer and as Merlin reaches the end of the spell Merlin nods at the dragon.

Flames roars from her mouth, catching the oil in the golden bowl placed on top of the stone. Fire leaps up and the mist begins to retreat at once, spooling around them tighter and tighter until the mist circles the stone marker slowly.

Traces of fog still linger but the sky is clear. As the thing that has been concealing them for a day gradually disappears Morgana realises too late how foolish they have been.

"Merlin!" she screams, throwing out a hand but the silent witches lining the cliff edge, their cloaks flapping in the breeze, strike before anyone can react. Merlin and Morgana are blasted off their feet and land in a painful heap together.

"Who are they?" he groans, flipping over to stare at the women approaching them. Thirteen.

"Saxons, the witches who work with the Saxons!"

They jump to their feet, snow clinging to their cloaks and stand shoulder to shoulder. The first witch who reaches them is flung twenty feet through the air and over the cliff edge, her face a picture of deep surprise before she is lost to sight. Morgana thinks they did not expect a fight when she looks towards the rune marker.

"Galahad," she breathes and realises that the witches are not there for them. "They want the cup!"

The witches crowd the man in white, who almost blends in with the snow. Mordred and Kara defend him, each with a sword drawn but the sorcerers hit them again and again with magic. Mordred falls to a knee, trying to shield them and he clenches his teeth with the effort.

"Aithusa!" Merlin yells, running to their friends and the dragon swoops down and the women gathered look up in awe at the beast trying to set them on fire. Dread fills Morgana's heart. Aithusa can not use fire without harming Galahad, Mordred and Kara.

Morgana barks a curse at the nearest witch, who crumples to the ground. Merlin inhales then a booming voice comes deep from within his chest. Aithusa snaps her head to him as he roars in a language that Morgana does not understand and the dragon swoops down. The witches shield their faces, expecting more flames but the dragon plucks one up into the air and with a screech drops her into the frozen sea.

"Yes!" Morgana yells and runs towards the shrinking group but as she almost reaches Mordred the air ripples and she freezes involuntarily. The air shimmers and boils before a gap splits into the air and widens. Open mouthed she watches as the gap lengthens, growing bigger until a doorway stands before them and through the gap she sees another land.

"We have to stop them!" Kara yells as Galahad, beaten half unconscious, is pulled struggling through the gap, pulled by a force that none can see and not hesitating for a second the druid girls races through the doorway after him. Wild eyed and scared Morgana fights to get closer, shouting the monk's name when she looks through the doorway again. Sister Birgit smiles calmly at her, sunshine bathing her smooth face. She lifts a hand and beckons her.

Morgana's legs grow weak and she grabs Merlin, who is shouting commands at the dragon, who is now fighting off the combined power of the witches. They have Galahad, who they tore through reality to get, and soon the witches limp back through the portal, escaping the wrath of the dragon.

"We need help!" Merlin yells, pulling her up but she can hardly hear. The little sister smiles maternally as Galahad is dumped at her feet and even as the guards behind her lift their arrows Morgana does not move. Merlin shakes her, moving to stand before her and Morgana snaps out of it.

"Watch out!" she yell and Merlin turns in time to see the arrows flying toward them. He pushes her roughly down as she flings out her arm to divert the arrows. She falls into the snow, waiting for the pain to shot through her but none come. Her magic had deflected the arrows. She lifts her head and sees Merlin falling to his knees, back to her.

"...Merlin?" she breathes, frozen in shock but as he makes an odd gulping laugh she gets to her knees and pulls him back. He has been shot in the chest.

"Missed one," he wheezes, blood staining the white snow red. He collapses into her arms.

"No! This - this isn't meant to happen!" she denies and places a hand on his chest but before she can heal him she is grabbed and roughly pulled back. So fast she barely feels it she is tugged through the portal, the heat enveloping her at once but all she can hear and see is Merlin. She holds out her hands.

"...Bring the wizard," a soft voice says and one of the witches stands over Merlin, who even bleeding to death snarls up at her. The witch leans down and instead of using magic she knocks him out with the end of her short sword. She brings Merlin back through the portal, dragging him by an arm and then drops him beside Morgana. She gathers him up in her arms.

"Morgana," a voice cries and she looks up in time to see Aithusa flying towards the portal, her mouth filled with fire.

"Find Arthur," she begs as the portal shrinks, growing smaller and at the last moment the dragon flies upwards as the portal closes shut. Aithusa and Tintagel are gone.

And she is right back where she started. Merlin lies still in her arms, bleeding heavily. Mordred is on his knees, hand on Kara's arm who is knocked out. Galahad looks at the people around him in bewilderment but Morgana only has eyes for one person. Sister Birgit stands before her and then tilts her head with a smile.

"Welcome home, Morgana. I have missed you."

a.n:

The end...for now.

Thank you so much for all your support and patience! It's meant a lot and I hope that you'll enjoy what is to come (which will likely be in December.)

Thanks again!