A/N: One of the rare fics I write that are canon-time, but of course not-canon. BBC Canon sucks. The story takes place at the end of season 2; in my world, season 3 does not exist...

Disclaimer: Don't own Merlin, and I'm glad I don't.

Chapter 1

« Keep away from her. »

The prince took another step forward nonetheless.

'I will take care of her, Arthur, I promise.'

Morgause's voice echoed in his head. She was cradling the inanimate body of Morgana almost tenderly. Then a ferocious wind rose around the two women, pushing everything away. And she disappeared, taking Morgana with her.

Arthur straightened up. He had fallen asleep in his chair again. The scene was haunting him, torturing him without mercy. He hadn't say good-bye. He had been so hard on her that last day. She was terrified, witnessing everyone falling under that spell: his father, Gwen, Gaius. And yet he'd pushed, he bullied her to give answers she hadn't had. At some point, she even seemed to think he was threatening to attack her. As if he would do her any harm. She was Morgana! His adoptive sister, his best friend, his nemesis, his first crush, his forever… He had failed her.

Guilt overcame fatigue and he stood stiffly, looking again at that tiny bottle he had gathered from that disastrous day. The label was hardly readable, but it was clear enough that it had contained poison. Merlin had brought the bottle to her. Why? Why was his father not surprised about Morgause taking Morgana away, about her caring for her? He had given his ward away so easily, almost relieved.

Arthur felt too tired to sleep. First, he lost Morgana, and then a dragon escaped from Camelot foundations and nearly destroyed them. Merlin said he gave it a mortal blow. Arthur doubted that. His lance had rebounded upon the hard shell of the beast. The monster didn't even hiss; more truth to draw from Merlin. His father once again wasn't surprised to know about a dragon lurking below the Castle.

Arthur wished he could talk to someone. Anyone. Morgana would have listened. She would have listened and understood and argued with him until dawn. It had driven him crazy, that way she had to always challenge him, to ignore his lead and to object to orders she considered unworthy. She was so annoying and yet he had looked forward to their bickering every day. He missed her.

His pacing took him to the window and Arthur contemplated the half-ravaged city below. He looked for the small house that belonged to Gwen. She refused to stay in the Castle, despite his asking. Morgana was gone and she didn't want to expose herself to gossip. She was still a servant.

'I thought I lost you.'

The words had warmed him then. And they shamed him because while her welcoming arms were tightened around him, all he could think about were the dead bodies of his Knights in that clearing, and the damages to the city and the hard days of reconstruction ahead. He loved Gwen. Yet he was the Prince of Camelot before being a man. Was it selfish to ask her to wait for him when he knew that she would come second after duty, always? His heart belonged to Camelot, first and forever. He had loved Gwen, before his world crashed down on him. Morgana would have listened.

Arthur sighed. The Clock-Tower was burned to the ground. He had no way to know how long the night would last. What was the point in lying down if he was to get up again in two hours or so? He could go for a ride, clear his mind with a good gallop. His father would not appreciate his sneaking out, but the days he bound blindly to the King's orders were past.

The stables were quiet. His bay stallion whinnied in greeting. Arthur stroked the powerful neck and walked down the boxes to pick-up his saddle. Morgana's white horse straightened its graceful head when he passed by. No one had ridden the mare in days, by superstition or too vivid pain at the loss of its mistress. He approached the animal, talking softly.

"What do you think, Moonlight? You want to stretch your legs?"

The mare answered his question by pushing its muzzle in his shoulder. He winced; this wound was taking forever to heal. Arthur caressed the velvet nose with a half-smile.

"Okay, I'll take you."

The horse was light-footed and agile. More use to a feminine weight, it danced at first under his heavier rider, before breaking into a steady trot, then a strong gallop. Half-bent over its crest, Arthur let the mare chose its own pace; the wind on his face helped empty his head. They raced through the fields, soon climbing a woody hill. The prince breathed deeply in the fresh air. There was no dust here; no sour smell of burning. The sky was already brightening and he glanced around. He didn't recognize that place, though he knew every corner around Camelot by heart. The clearing was peaceful.

Arthur dismounted to approach a boulder, bridle in hand. The stone revealed itself to be a stele, half-covered by lichen. It was carved with esoteric runes, probably a relic from the Old Religion. He caressed the soft muzzle poking at his arm.

"Did you come here with Morgana before? Hum? It's like her to seek for a place like this."

"More than you think."

Arthur turned around sharply, automatically reaching for his sword. The blond woman in front of him didn't flinch, standing proudly a few meters from him.

"Where is Morgana?" He demanded.

She didn't answer his question. "I need your help."

"My help?" Arthur asked doubtfully.

Then he laughed. The witch who had taken everything from him and half-destroyed his home was seeking for his help?

"Arthur, listen to me."

She took one more step toward him and the bitter smile vanished at once.

"Stay where you are. Where is Morgana?"

Gripping his sword with both hands, he watched her pushed away her cloak to take a jug at her belt.

He repeated his query. "Where is Morgana?"

"She followed the Dragon."

"The Dragon is dead."

Arthur recoiled when Morgause approached the stele by his side. Merlin said he killed the Dragon. Did Merlin lie? The woman looked sad and upset.

"Morgana wanted something I couldn't give. So when we heard the Great Dragon was flying again, she decided to follow him."

"And you let her!"He was horrified.

Unbelievable. Morgause gave him an amused smile.

"As if you ever manage to stop her doing what she wanted."

"You're a witch. Get her back."

"I can't." Morgause looked sad.

The blond knelt near the carved stone and began clearing its base carefully. He didn't want to appear interested. He looked anyway and made out a small depression in the stone, like a basin of some sort. Opening the jug, Morgause poured its content into the crook, humming foreign words. The water glowed, boiling with the enchantment, and mist rose from the stone basin, quickly dissipating into the air. Morgause hissed in frustration.

"She's concealed to me. Arthur…"

The beautiful woman turned her head to him. He took one step back, clutching the guard of his blade, ready for the attack. But Morgause didn't attack. She simply fixed her dark eyes into his, saying nothing. Call him stupid, he read genuine worry on the witch's face. She really cared for Morgana, he realized. Arthur lowered his weapon.

"Why can't you see her?"

Morgause left his question unanswered.

"She's in your heart and you're in hers. You can find her. "

"I don't have that kind of talents."

"Just look."

Arthur did as he was told. He needed to know she was safe. He would demand answers later. The water glowed again. All he could see was light and whirlpools shaping in a dark landscape of rock, waves and sand. The image shifted and he saw the familiar lovely figure curled on a bed, sleeping. The vision shifted again and reptilian yellow eyes blinked at him. Arthur jerked back. Morgause murmured in hast and the water vanished from its cradle. He turned to the witch

"Where is she?"

"It looked like the northern seashore. Maybe Caledonia. But she's under Kilgharrah's spell. You have to help me!"

"You tricked and attacked me in the past. Why would I believe you now?"

"We can help each other."

"You promised to protect her." He said bitterly.

Morgause had a little laugh. She stood up, arranging her skirts around her. She didn't bother to answer. Arthur gave up and retreated to his horse. If Morgana was in the North, he could find her himself, on his own terms. I don't need a sorceress' traitorous ways to save what's mine.

Morgause called him back as he mounted.

"Call me when you're ready."

A/N: As always, the muses will enjoy reviews... ... ...