Warnings: None.
Summary: Merlin had a duty to protect Camelot. He would do whatever it took to protect the rise of the Once and Future King, even if it meant his death. Dealing with Morgause and Morgana's plans and hiding who he was is almost easy compared to the mammoth realisation that, perhaps, there is more than destiny that leads his future with Arthur.
Pairings: Arthur/Merlin, mentions of Arthur/Gwen, Merlin/Freya and Gwen/Lancelot.

Sunstede
Solstice: Part Five
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Worry is not a wise council. Forget everything else. You have to do what you believe is right.
~ Gwen
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After leaving Camelot, Gwen had taken the route to a large trading town, governed by a letter Merlin had given her. It had been from Lancelot, with the details of the town he'd be staying in for a few months for work, and it had been her way to find him again.

The inn he was staying in, The Hare and Hounds, was like any other inn Gwen knew and it seemed like such an ordinary place for the emotions swelling inside of her. The first step of her new life had begun as she left Camelot, but that had been a life-without-Arthur. This, standing before a room with her hand poised to knock on the door, was her life-with-Lancelot.

"Guinevere?" A voice questioned, a little way down the hall. Gwen turned, cheeks flushed as her eyes met Lancelot's.

They entered Lancelot's room and Gwen told him everything; of her relationship with Arthur, how Morgana had suspected her, how Merlin had told her to get away and how she was confused. It wasn't hard to fall into Lancelot's arms and hold him as she cried, missing her home, her life, everything she knew, and Lancelot just held her, stroking her back.

She took the bed while he slept on a pile of blankets on the floor. Gwen had refused at first, but she'd been so tired that there had been very little fight left in her. Three days of sleeping and looking for odd work to do – and securing a seamstress' work for a few items a day – brightened Gwen, replenished her somewhat and she was able to look Lancelot in the eye, tell him that he was to share the bed and that she'd have none of excuses.

If she couldn't have Arthur, then maybe it was time to realise that she didn't want him. Arthur was a fine man, but he was destined to be King. If Gwen was to become Queen, she knew herself that the choice would make itself one day and that, as Merlin jokingly asked, she'd have to choose between Arthur and Lancelot. The fact that even now she'd take Lancelot despite being someone's wife told Gwen she could never give Arthur that commitment, that he deserved so much more than she could give because Lancelot already had her heart.

By the time messengers came from Camelot, Gwen knew there were no more choices. Her choice was Lancelot, for now and forever. Arthur was a dear friend, but Lancelot… she could be happy with him.

The last messenger the village received from Camelot had been two days ago. He'd ridden to the square, called for attendance from every household. People had flooded the streets to hear the news from their King and it had been then that Gwen saw people close off, begin to cry and turn away.

There had been no sign of Prince Arthur for weeks. The Lady Morgana said that he had been taken captive, wounded gravely. Uther was still searching, but the people, as they had before, would take to the city of Camelot to offer their prayers and say farewell to the lost heir.

Gwen and Lancelot joined the small group travelling to Camelot to lay candles in the courtyard. She wouldn't believe Arthur was dead, but her candle would be one of hope that he'd return safely. Maybe Merlin would know something or be able to do something, he always seemed to have an answer.

Lancelot didn't bat an eye, simply packing everything they had into bags and nodding.

"Clearly Arthur needs us," was all he said, before taking Gwen's hand and leading her from their room.

The journey back to Camelot – back home – was a long one. Small groups joined them occasionally, some heading to Camelot and others not. While the distance between Haldor and Camelot wasn't great, the thought of what would be waiting for them didn't add haste to anyone's stride.

The streets of Camelot weren't any different to any other day ad Gwen could almost have brought herself to believe that everything was okay, that the messenger had brought false news, if not for the fact there was not a hint of colour on any person. Black clothed figures walked about the market place, some holding candles to take to the courtyard and others drawing shawls up, bundling inside as the kingdom entered its mourning.

Lancelot walked at her side as they moved to Gaius' workroom, hoping to find either Merlin or the physician, though preferably both. Gwen knocked politely, understanding that her position in the castle was temporarily dissolved, and she nodded to Lancelot as Gaius called for them to enter.

"Lancelot! Gwen!" Gaius sounded overjoyed to see them and Gwen supposed that he must be taking it hard too. He'd known Arthur since he was a baby and watched him grow.

"Where's Merlin?" Lancelot asked, peering behind Gaius to see Merlin's door wide open, but empty.

"Shut the door and come sit down," Gaius said, dropping his voice lower. Once they were seated, he looked at them , a serious look on his face. "Merlin went to find Arthur just after he vanished."

Gwen's hands fisted in her lap and Lancelot lay one of his own hands over hers, entwining their fingers.

"Have you heard anything?" Lancelot asked, leaning his free elbow on the table as he moved towards Gaius over the bench.

"Not since he left, but Merlin suspected that Morgana had been in touch with Morgause." Gaius paused for a moment, his gaze resting on Gwen before shifting quickly back to Lancelot. "He said he could feel that something was coming and I believe it to be linked to the Solstice."

Gwen bit her lip hesitantly. While Merlin was loyal, far more loyal than anyone she'd ever met, what could he hope to achieve? Now there were two of them out there, alone and possibly dying, while the rest of them were stuck with their prayers and wishes of hope.

A guard called for Gaius to attend the King and he left, telling Lancelot and Gwen to stay. They watched him go anxiously, for if the King had called for Gaius it could mean the very best or the very worst.

"You don't seem worried," Gwen said, a little while later.

Lancelot looked at her, shaking his head slightly. "I trust in Merlin and I know he'll do whatever it takes to get Arthur back safely." He paused, moving to Gwen's side and kissing her forehead gently, "Besides, you know what the pair of them are like. They'll come back to Camelot side by side, bickering as always."

Gwen smiled, blinking back her tears and nodding. Everything would be okay; they just had to trust in Merlin and Arthur.

The next morning dawned and with it brought Gaius' terrible news. Gwen and Lancelot had slept in Merlin's room so they hadn't been privy to the gossip of the town (and they were, by far, the first to know), but Gaius' grave look as they entered his room said it all.

"Uther sent scouts to hunt for Arthur," he began, passing around bowls for breakfast. "One such scout reported seeing the Druids carrying two men, one of whom matched Arthur's description, to their settlement. They tried to track the Druids, for days, but were unsuccessful."

"But the Druids are peaceful aren't they? Even if that man was Arthur, they wouldn't hurt him," Lancelot asked hurriedly.

Gaius sighed. "Normally I'd have no reason to disagree, but… Arthur led a massacre on one of their settlements and he's the son of Uther. Many of their people have found death because of the King and, as such, Uther is to make a public announcement today in the courtyard."

There was no need to say what kind of announcement the King would make. There was only one such speech he would make, and that was one to publicly endorse the mourning of his son, to begin the farewells properly.

"You said the scout saw two men…" Lancelot began, glancing at Gwen briefly before returning his gaze to Gaius.

"The other one matched Merlin's description, yes. I told Uther than Merlin had gone looking for Arthur as soon as he'd heard the news and the King had no reason to fault that." Gaius' voice was calm and Gwen felt tears welling up. This was awful news, the worst – both Merlin and Arthur were lost now it seemed.

"So the Druids-" Lancelot said, but was cut off by Gaius.

"Would be more likely to heal them than kill them? Yes. So I suppose there was some good in Merlin running off after all." Gaius' lips tightened into a slight smile and Lancelot nodded; a smile of his own creeping up to match.

"Gaius?" Gwen asked, brows furrowed in confusion. She was evidently missing something here.

"I can't say why, but Merlin is one of the last people the Druids would seek to kill. And as long as the Prince is with him, they'll both come back safe." Gaius' mouth turned down at the corner, "Of course I couldn't say as much to Uther and unless Arthur comes back, there's nothing I can do."

Would he come back? It wasn't a question that Gwen could answer and, later in the courtyard with tears trickling down her face as the King stood swathed in black, a veiled Morgana by his side, all she could do was cling to Lancelot's hand, press her cheek to his heartbeat and hope, more than anything, that Arthur and Merlin would return home safely.

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I want an end to my suffering - for the arrival of a new time, the time of the Once and Future King.
~ The Fisher King

I have heard those words before.
~ Merlin

And you will hear them again for that time is dawning and my time can finally come to an end.
~ The Fisher King
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"I know she was my sister," was the first thing that Arthur said as he turned around to look at Merlin. "I mean, she told me in the clearing. I just… I guess it didn't sink in," he explained at Merlin's look.

"I don't expect it did," Merlin murmured, low and slightly husky. Arthur wondered if he'd just woken up. "You had bigger things on your mind around about then."

Merlin shifted so that he had his legs crossed on the pallet. A sword – his sword – lay next to Merlin with a cloth beside it; clearly Merlin had been cleaning it.

"This," Merlin said when he noticed Arthur's line of gaze, "Is Excalibur. I had Kilgharrah bathe the blade in fire – Gwen's father forged it."

Arthur's fingers twitched, wanting to reach for the blade. Merlin offered it to him, hilt first, and as his palm closed around his sword, it felt as if it was sliding home. He balanced the sword in his hand, testing the weight and he smiled; it was unlike any weapon he'd ever held before.

"It's perfect," he said to Merlin, looking at him in amazement. "Why…?"

"The only weapon that can slay the dead is one forged from a dragon's breath. I made this for you when the Black Knight, Tristan, challenged you. I didn't know Uther and Gaius had drugged you and Uther used it instead." Merlin hung his head for a moment, "After that, I had to place it somewhere until you were ready for it, so I took it to the lake of Avalon."

Avalon; a place of myth and legend. Uther had told them all that Avalon was just a myth in its connection to the Old Religion, but a place where the dead passed to and nothing more. There were no fairy guardians, no sorcerers at its gates. It was just the resting place of the dead, unconnected to magic, so Uther had convinced himself.

"That was where Morgana took you to," Merlin said softly, watching Arthur as he rotated his wrist, practising his drills.

Arthur lay Excalibur down next to him and looked at Merlin. "What do we do now then?"

Merlin shifted uncomfortably, refusing to meet Arthur's eyes. "You're going back to Camelot and I'm going to meet Morgana and Morgause on the Solstice."

Automatically, Arthur wanted to call him stupid. Who did he think he was, going against Morgana and Morgause alone? Even the fact he had magic didn't ease the anger that boiled inside of Arthur, though he wasn't too sure why.

"You might be a powerful sorcerer," and there was the first time Arthur had ever truly acknowledged it aloud, "But you're an idiot if you think I'm letting you go alone."

Merlin's reaction was instant and he shifted on his pallet, outraged look on his face.

"Do you not understand? It's you they want! I'm not just going to march up there with you behind me when the only thing that stands between Morgana and Camelot is you!"

What else had Merlin done to protect him? Arthur wondered briefly, storing that away for another time – another place – when the threat of Morgana and Morgause wasn't over their heads. They needed to have a long talk when this was all over, but Arthur believed Merlin had pledged himself for Camelot. There was one thing Merlin was not, and that was a liar.

(He didn't want to get into the fact that Merlin hadn't technically lied about his magic, and how so many times he'd admitted it or dodged the question.)

"You're not going alone. No matter what, you're taking me with you." Arthur was set on this. When he had been tied to the land, he'd felt their connection, a thread binding him to Merlin. It was similar to the one that connected Merlin to the land, but there was something different.

As Merlin opened his mouth to object, Arthur spoke, "There's something connecting us, a bond. I felt it when I was under the binding spell." Arthur paused, his tongue moistening his bottom lip. "It's similar to the tie you have to your magic and the earth around us, but it's stronger, more meaningful. It can't be broken," Arthur added, eyes searching to meet Merlin's.

"Like destiny?" Merlin chuckled with the words, but there was no humour in his words.

"No," he replied. While the connection was somewhat similar to sharing a destiny – maybe, perhaps, but Arthur didn't know any of what that would mean anyway – it was more human. It wasn't something Arthur would ever have admitted before being bound, but there was no way he could lie now.

"When Gwen left I thought that everything was over, that I'd never find anyone who understands me or anyone who I could ever love again. And then… then you were there and I realised that, yes, I loved Gwen, but I'd been missing what was right in front of my eyes, telling myself that every time I saw you, the little flutter in my stomach was just because you were my servant." Arthur hadn't had time to think about this, not really, but he could feel how much they meant to each other, how the way their paths met was inevitable.

Shaking his head, Merlin's hand slipped to the blanket on the bed, clutching at the fabric.

"When my soul left my body, it was like someone had pulled a curtain from my eyes. There was nothing but truth and I knew before I felt our bond that I-"

"No, Arthur," Merlin said, shaking his head. "You can't. You don't. All you felt was my magic reacting to the spell, that was all. It's easy to confuse it with human emotions." Merlin gave a sad, small smile. "You don't, Arthur. Even if you're over Gwen, I wouldn't be someone you could be with."

Arthur disagreed. To Merlin it may seem as though his feelings were sudden, but he hadn't understood the feeling of having every doubt, every human weight lifted from him. Merlin had never known what it was like to be so sure of something, so sure that something was right… and Arthur had no way of explaining it.

"Why not? You just used magic to save me, even knowing my father's stance against it. You've been my manservant for years and you know that I have no problem with birth status. You've saved my life more than once it seems and you're the only person I trust without a doubt. And I know how much I mean to you, I felt it. I can't explain it to you, but can you imagine having every doubt ripped from you? To be presented with nothing but the truth and know with clarity that what you can see… what is there is no lie. What exists between us is no lie, so you tell me why not." Arthur's voice had dropped, until his words were low and half-snarled. He needed Merlin to understand this, to realise that, no matter what, his feelings weren't suddenly going to change just after they'd finally been realised.

"I'm not going to come between you and your father," Merlin said quietly, looking away from Arthur.

"I don't care about the magic. I felt it, it's not something you chose and the world needs you. The whole bloody forest sang out in joy when you stepped into it for goodness sake!" Arthur was smiling slightly, remembering the joy that had overtaken his own thoughts, but it froze as Merlin still wasn't looking at him.

"I promise I'll do everything to protect you. You've managed so far in Camelot; we'll just carry on like that until I'm King." It was, as plans went, awful, but Merlin clearly needed some form of reassurance. It was all Arthur had at the moment, when he was here on Merlin's territory, not a Prince, but while Merlin was very much a warlock.

"I know you'd do that, but I can't do it." Merlin finally looked up, eyes clear as he spoke. "You've never followed the Old Religion. Your own religion tells you that the union of the same sex is sinful. I can't… I can't take that from you. Not when you believe in your religion and your father believes in it."

The words chilled Arthur and he wondered how many times Merlin had run the thought through his mind.

"My religion?" he repeated. "My religion has nothing to do with how I feel, Merlin, and I don't see why I should lie to myself just because my father believes it to be a sin." In truth be told, religion had never played a big part of Arthur's childhood. Of course he'd sat through the changes Uther had demanded to those following his rule, but they hadn't been cemented.

(Of course there were whispers of a Lord from afar, but they hadn't reached Camelot yet, or at least not fully enough for Arthur to cast aside the beliefs he had cultured on his own, gleaned from books of old.)

But Merlin still shook his head. "You don't believe in the Old Religion. Even if we… we did this, how long would it last? You have your beliefs and I mine and-"

"I think it's redundant to say that I don't believe in the Old Religion." Arthur's voice was hollow. "I was part of it, part of the earth itself. While I was under that spell, I had all the power in the world running through my body. My father is a fool if he thinks the Old Religion is dead, but I realised that long ago."

Merlin looked as though he wanted to believe the words, so Arthur reached out, placing his hand over Merlin's, where they were curled in his lap.

"Merlin, I-"

"Emrys!" A voice called from outside of the tent and Merlin stood, snatching his hands away from Arthur as if he'd just lit a fire under them.

Arthur watched him go, his hand moving over to Excalibur and he could feel the magic pulsing through the blade. Why couldn't Merlin, just this one, accept that he didn't know everything there was to know about this? Just because he was a creature of the Old Religion didn't entitle Merlin to know everything. He couldn't know how it felt to be so sure of something, to have all barriers removed and a stark realisation hit you.

It was true that Arthur had been raised with a different set of beliefs to Merlin, that he had been raised to think the Old Religion was a dead, corrupt thing, but now that he'd been a part of it, actually felt it flowing through his blood; there was no doubt to which religion Arthur would pledge.

"The Druids want to discuss something," Merlin said as the tent flap closed.

Arthur stood, nodding and reaching for his sword belt. Merlin looked at him in confusion.

"What are you doing?" he asked, looking for all the world as if he wanted to grab Arthur's hands to stop him.

"What?" Arthur said, fixing Merlin with a stare, "Just because you saved me from being bound to the land for all eternity doesn't mean I'm just going to sit here twiddling my thumbs."

Merlin looked as if he was about to object, but he must have seen something in Arthur's face (perhaps his determination, maybe his need for this) and simply nodded.

"Arthur will be joining us," he muttered to a Druid outside. While it was odd to hear Merlin relaying an order (or half-order, Arthur supposed), it wasn't completely out of place. Was that because it had to do with Arthur? And Arthur knew how much Merlin felt for him, how much he'd be willing to sacrifice.

The Druid's reply was hidden from Arthur, but it seemed to be an acceptance for Merlin nodded, signalling for Arthur to join him. He rose, a little awkwardly for his muscles were still a little shaky from what they'd been through, but followed easily. Merlin's back was ram-rod straight as they passed through the settlement, head jerking side to side as people began to draw out of their homes, fingers gesturing towards where Arthur walked.

They were led to a large tent – a war tent – stationed slightly above the rest of the camp, on a hill. Inside sat a council of Druids, robed and facing each other in an oblong shape. They sat on the ground, fabrics and cushions lining the floor for comfort. It was unlike any council Arthur had been to in Camelot (or indeed their allied courts), and while it wasn't exactly relaxing, there was something more natural about the positioning of the people, how they were all on the same level.

"Emrys, please, sit," a woman said, gesturing to the head of the oblong, where a space lay between her and a heavy set man. "The Once and Future King can sit by your side," she added, nodding to Arthur.

He knew what the land meant to him. Arthur would be a fool to deny the surge of affection the land had held for him, how tightly it had held him as he'd slipped into the soul spell. The bond that connected him to Merlin could have something to do with that, but the magic in the land had responded to him too, pushing against the soul spell as much as it could, staving off the loss of its future king as best it could without Merlin.

And, during that time, Arthur had heard countless prophecies whispered into his mind. Prophecies by ancient creatures and men alike, all pertaining to the Once and Future King who would unite Albion with the greatest Warlock the world would ever know. He had never put much faith in prophecies before, just as he hadn't put faith in much of the Old Religion, but he knew now that there was something connecting him to the land, connecting him to the magic Merlin had in his blood.

Regardless of whether he'd be a great king or not, he knew now that Merlin was destined, prophesised, foretold to be by his side. Hadn't he proved that much already? Merlin has stayed through thick and thin, trailing after Arthur even when he'd bullied and annoyed Merlin.

They sat, Arthur wondering what would happen. The Druids were a peaceful people, for the most part, so what need did they have to gather like this?

"We've been called here to discuss recent happenings," the woman from before said, nodding to a man next to her. Arthur recognised him as the man he'd handed Mordred over to and the feeling of restlessness that had built inside of him diminished somewhat.

"As many of you felt, a powerful magic was wrought over the land a few days ago." Had it really been that long ago? It felt like a blur to Arthur, both much sooner and later than they'd said. "That spell was designed to bind a soul to the magic of the earth, to rip the soul of the receiver out of their body and chain it to the land."

It was an ancient spell, the man went on to explain, a cruel spell that had been cast out from most circles, from the people who practiced honest, good, magic. It was a spell that required vast amounts of energy and often more than one person to complete fully. The man had looked to Arthur then and he'd confirmed that Morgause had been backed by a group of other sorcerers.

"Emrys was able to bargain with the spell after drinking water from the lake of Avalon," he continued. Arthur moved forwards in his seat, eager to hear exactly just what Merlin had done to save him (this time – no doubt there were countless times he didn't know about).

A few murmurs broke out at what the Druid had said, head bending together to mutter. Merlin was looking down between his crossed legs, pointedly ignoring all of the whisperings, and Arthur could see a flush to his cheeks. Without really thinking, Arthur moved his hand to Merlin's knee, squeezing once before moving it away, nodding to him as Merlin looked up.

They were in this together, whatever had been done. Merlin had nothing to be ashamed of, to be embarrassed about, and Arthur would help him to see that.

"As some of you may know, if a sorcerer powerful enough takes in the waters of Avalon with pure intent," the man said, "Then they, in essence, become a part of Avalon."

Merlin was listening too, Arthur could feel it. Had he not known what he was doing?

"Emrys used this power to negate the bond, to exchange his immortality for Arthur's soul." Arthur couldn't look at Merlin, not with now knowing everything he'd sacrificed. Of what he would most likely continue to sacrifice.

Instead he focused on the Druids staring at them, mouths open a little and some shaking their heads in amazement. While Arthur didn't know much about the constraints of magic, he imagined that turning oneself immortal and then twisting an ancient spell to free the person it had been cast upon was a little bit far from child's play. How powerful exactly was Merlin? Obviously enough to be mentioned in prophesies and given a name (a title)… but did he have any boundaries whatsoever?

"When the spell was completed and the King's soul released from the spell, that was when most of you felt the magic pulse. Morgause was clever in working the spell and had managed to conceal it, but to those who are magic, Emrys' own working was felt." The Druid man bowed his head, shuffling back in his seat as the woman from before spoke.

"We believe that Morgause won't have realised what had happened during the course of the spell. It is to our knowledge that she believes Emrys here to be a simple servant." She paused and Arthur hated the fact that he'd been like Morgause in that respect until very recently.

"She will just have assumed that was what the spell does towards the end, for she was never trained in the subtleties of magic." The woman's lips draw into a thin line, "The High Priestesses tended to prefer power over intricacies," and it was easy to see that the Druids had clashed in aspects with these High Priestesses, judging by the array of nods around the tent.

"What we also know of Morgause," she continued, turning to Merlin. "Is that she is seeking the man named Emrys, believing him to be on her side to help her conquer Camelot."

Merlin clenched his jaw, shaking his head. "I'd never help her," he said softly, glancing to Arthur out of the corner of his eye.

"We know that, Emrys, but there is something else that she has been planning. The Solstice is almost upon us, a time when the magic of the worlds is exposed at a greater measure than it would normally be. Morgause has planned to use that day to summon the Great Dragon and, through him, Emrys."

Arthur would have liked to say he was shocked by the revelation that the dragon still lived, but, as with many things now, he had felt the dragon, cold as ice and burning like fire at the same time, shrouded in heavy, ancient magic. He'd been beautiful, a creature of wonder, and Arthur had felt his loss, as with the loss of the land.

What had Morgause done to him? She'd thought she was sealing him away from the world, forever. Or, if that had failed, that he'd turn to Merlin with hatred, or turn to his father with hatred, join Morgana and her campaign… when instead…

Arthur had felt the whole world in seconds. He'd felt the beauty of magic in his body, seen the devastation that Uther's Purge had wrought. It sickened him now to think that his father had done all that, but he had felt, too, the sadness and grief that clung to Uther.

He knew there was more to the Purge than a simple decision. Uther wouldn't have turned on thousands of people without a conviction in his head and Arthur needed to know of this conviction before he could decide how he would feel.

(Because, at the end of the day, Uther was still his father and he still loved him, no matter their disagreements.)

"How can she have the power to summon the dragon?" Merlin asked, head tilted curiously. And yes, how could she have the power – when only a Dragonlord…

Arthur jerked, that night sliding into place as well as the connection he'd sensed between the dragon and Merlin. How that connection (how Merlin had been made a Dragonlord) would need to be explored further, in private, but it was a start. Arthur was beginning to understand, beginning to see Merlin for the man he really was.

"There were old spells, once," a man from the other side of the oblong said. "Said to be able to summon the dragons. There might be an inkling of truth in them, but Morgause wouldn't be able to wield that power with a hundred sorcerers at her back." The man sounded smug, safe in the knowledge that Morgause couldn't control such a deadly creature.

"But the dragon will come, anyway," the woman said, turning to Merlin. "It's been written, prophesised as you will, that there will be a meeting between the Once and Future King, the Warlock Emrys and the Witch sisters, to which Emrys will call down the Great Dragon."

Arthur wondered if he imagined it when Merlin rolled his eyes, trying to find normality in the oddest of places.

"Why is everything always prophesised," he muttered, just for Arthur's ears. It was good to know that, through all of this, Merlin could still be himself.

Merlin sighed, "I suppose you have a plan then? Considering it's been Seen for years or something."

The Druids around them turned their gazes to Arthur and Merlin, the ball hitting Arthur's stomach as realisation sunk.

"What good is seeing the future if you don't even plan things!" he said before thinking, the fact that the Druids were hoping they had a plan seeming too ridiculous to believe.

Beside him, Merlin started to laugh, the sound spreading through the room, contagious. It was in that moment that Arthur knew with full confidence that, regardless of what Morgana and Morgause threw their way, they could battle through it.

For Camelot. For the people. For Merlin.

Perhaps there is a reason you were brought here at this moment in time.
~ Taliesin

Morgana had done her best, standing next to Uther with a veil over her eyes, pretending that tears were welling in her eyes as the King announced to his Kingdom that his son was gone. Not dead, but gone, and that was good enough as dead.

Instead, as she'd stood on the parapet, she'd let her mind wander to what her own rule would be like. Would the people gaze up at her in adoration as she made her announcements? Would they turn in horror when they realised she was the one with the rightful claim to the throne?

She was in her rooms now, away from the sombre castle and its halls. In her room she dressed in a crimson red, a far cry from the blacks of Camelot. She was a Pendragon, the heir to the throne even if ignored by her father. She'd show them, soon enough.

There was a noise at her window and Morgana moved to open it, noticing the small bird staring at her. It hopped once, a tiny scroll tied to its leg, before Morgana untied the binding of the scroll and the bird flew off.

The message was short, but Morgana felt even more triumphant. Not even Morgause had known about this, about what she'd found and now… now it was all paying off.

"I'll come with Emrys," Morgana whispered, reading the note as elation sang in her blood.

"Look at me now sister, look what you helped make me." Morgana smiled to the empty room, wanting to laugh, "Are you proud?"

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You'd do well, Merlin, to stay out of things that do not concern you.
~ Morgana

Oh, but they do concern me, because they're my friends too, and I'll do whatever it takes to protect them.
~ Merlin

I would expect nothing less.
~ Morgana
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Notes:

Sorry for the massive delay! And as you can see, still have one more chapter to go. I thought it would be better to get this bit out rather than just sitting on it. Still not sure about most of it but… I'm not going to change it!

Thank you for all the support so far, I hope you enjoyed this instalment!