For the first time in over three decades bonfires are in the fields again. Before the purge the people of Camelot, from Druid to simple country folk, could light the fires on the night of Beltane with no fear of consequences. Now they are free to do so again but the fires are tended to with a tempered excitement and Morgana knows it will take years for the fear of reprisal to fade. The sting of past wrongs is still felt by many but drums beat and people dance. Even the lofty inhabitants of Camelot celebrate in their halls.

Morgana does not have the luxury of such surroundings or company but she does take some pleasure in the place she resides. The Isle of the Blessed at first glance looks no more then a ruin, the turrets destroyed and decade's worth of ivy and weeds left to grow over the remnants of what was once a beautiful castle. But the damage is not complete and for the last few months she has taken great pains in restoring the castle to its former glory. It will rival Camelot once completed.

Once she has accomplished that the Isle will be filled with people again, novices and priestesses come to study and worship. Her desire for the throne of Camelot is like a fever dream to her now, mad and without reason. She is the last High Priestess and it is her duty to bring the Old Religion back into the light of day, just as her sister wished. This is her true seat of power and she will prove to be a fair but firm ruler. Once the Druids have seen sense that is…

She offers a prayer to the ceremonial fire and the stars above before lying down to sleep. The night is cold, even with the fire, and she huddles into her furs and relaxes. The few men and women, all builders or servants, she had persuaded to stay with her sing below and laugh, tending to their bonfire and she smiles with a small ache of loneliness before sleep claims her…

The drums pound, echoing her heartbeat and with a stab of fear and exhilaration she watches from her throne as he comes through the entrance of the tent. Incense drifts into the air, pungent and intoxicating, and he leaves a wake of smoke in the air as he comes towards her. She regards him intensely, chin held high and shifts in her seat when he bends over in a mocking bow, flourishing his hand. She will allow him that but only once.

As he straightens he takes off the dragon scale mask that covers his eyes and throws it aside and gold eyes flash at her. Merlin walks forward, drops to his knees and bows his head and she places her hand on his head gently.

"Emrys…"

He looks up, gold eyes matching her own, and suddenly tugs her down to him and their lips lock.

"No!"

With a shout she bolts awake and stares at her dark chamber with wide eyes. The feel of his hair under her fingers, the taste of his lips and the smell of incense is still around her but all this is secondary to the awful revelation, the dreadful truth. His eyes had been golden, a gold to match her own.

Merlin has magic.

The need for retribution and the desire to kill and maim had been instant and all consuming but as she contemplated the ways in which to kill him a quiet, steady voice had cut directly through her rage and she had stopped to listen.

Killing him will not be enough; will not take away the years of lies and deceit. You dispatch enemies you do not know easily but he deserves something far more personal. You are alone because of him and it is only fitting that you pay him back in kind.

That is how she finds herself in Ealdor the morning after Beltane. A smouldering bonfire is all that is left of the celebrations the night before and the smoke hides her passage. Dawn is not yet here and most of the villagers sleep. She passes couples in the fields, in varying degrees of undress, but finds Merlin's mother asleep in her own bed alone.

It has been many years since Morgana has seen Hunith but the kind faced woman is not much changed but for greying hair. As she comes to stand at the foot of her bed she wonders if she knows the truth about her son. Now she will find out one way or the other.

"Hunith, wake up," she says quietly and offers the sleepy woman a smile when her eyes spring open.

"Mor — Morgana?"

"You remember me? I'm flattered," she drawls as Hunith sits up, staring at her warily.

"What are you doing here?"

"Haven't you guessed? I've come to kill you," she replies sweetly and her eyes flash gold.

Hunith stiffens and then opens her mouth to scream. Morgan lifts her hand and the scream is ripped away with a spell. Hunith grabs her throat, eyes bulging, and Morgana smirks.

"Don't be foolish. If you cause a fuss and your neighbour's come to investigate I'll be forced to kill them too. So keep your mouth shut." She looks around for a chair and sits as Hunith lowers her hand, eyes round with fear. After a few minutes she composes herself and moves to sit on the edge of the bed, the cover clutched between her hands.

"Why are you doing this?" she asks quietly and Morgana is impressed by how calm she sounds.

"Because of him," she grits out and her sweetness disappears into fury. "He lied to me, he pretended to be this stupid serving boy but I know the truth. How does it feel to have such a deceitful son?"

"I — I don't know what you're talking about," Hunith falters, eyes averting.

"Don't lie to me! He has magic! He is Emrys!" saying this aloud causes a spike of dread to go through her and the plates on the shelves shake and fall to the floor, cracking and shattering. She clamps down on the fear and the room stops moving.

"Emrys?" Hunith says and this time her confusion is honest. Morgana narrows her eyes at her thoughtfully. There are many leagues between Camelot and Ealdor. How much does Hunith actually know about her precious son?

"If you admit that your son has magic I will not kill you,"she says mercifully. Hunith remains stonily quiet and Morgana lifts a brow. "You don't deny it but I'm sure if I called over one of the villagers it would get you talking. Shall I try?" she gets up and heads to the door but Hunith lifts her hand.

"Wait! Don't hurt them, they've done nothing," she shakes her head with a sigh and Morgana stands still as Hunith gazes at her sadly. "Why are you so angry Morgana?"

Morgana blinks before coming forward. "Because he lied to me! I trusted him and he stabbed me in the back," she hisses and Hunith flinches back.

"You're hurt?"

"Hurt?" she laughs and sits back down, "I'm furious."

"Do not look upon Merlin too harshly. He has to lie for fear of his life. He could not tell anyone...He is not a bad person," she adds softly and Morgana laughs again but it is a bitter sound.

"You have no idea, do you? I'm sorry to break this to you but your son is not a good man. He is deceitful and a coward," she says it through gritted teeth.

Hunith shakes her head in denial. "He is not a coward. I have never met anyone so brave. I am lucky to have him for a son," she says proudly and Morgana's mouth falls open.

"Lucky? Your son is evil!"

"Who are you to throw that word around?" she asks with surprising bite.

"He poisoned me! He tricked me into drinking it and then held me in his arms and waited for me to die," she screams uncontrollably and covers a hand over her mouth. She had wanted to tell her this, to shock her with the truth and garner pleasure from her pain but never in such an emotional way. She is loosing control. Hunith blinks and tries to deny it but the tears that Morgana tries to hide make her pause.

"He would never do that," she whispers in a trembling voice.

"That's what he'd like you to believe. Ask him. He kills our kind and he lies…because of him I have no one. My sister is dead…" she trails off and feels tears welling up and blinks them away angrily.

"I think you're lying…but I also think you are very lonely and troubled. The young woman I met once was brave and honourable…What of your mother?" Hunith asks suddenly and Morgana regards her with shock.

"My mother…?"

The tears that had sprung into her eyes were from anger and self pity but now a new pain rises and she suddenly stands and without a backwards glance blasts the door open and leaves.

He runs down the path, the cries of greeting from his old neighbours deaf to his ears. He had been dreaming, a strange carnal dream that has been plaguing him for weeks, when through those vague shifting images had come something striking and clear: Morgana in his mother's house. He does not have much skill in foretelling but he can decipher a dream from a vision. Teeth gritted he races to Hunith's door and finds it blown off its hinges. Panic besets him and with a stomach curling fear he dashes inside and sees his mother sweeping the floor.

"Merlin!"

His knees almost go weak and he exhales in relief. "You're alive. Are you okay?" He comes forward and takes her hand, making the broom clatter to the floor. His mother has always been a serene woman but her fingers tremble in his.

"It was Morgana."

"She'll pay for this!" he snarls but Hunith grabs hold of him as he makes for the door.

"She knows Merlin! She knows you have magic."

Merlin stares at her, lost for words before the implication of what she is saying crashes down on him. "She can't know, there's no way…how?"

"I don't know but she was beside herself with anger. She said you betrayed her," she stares at him incredulously.

The rage that flares inside him dims but only just. "I never wanted to lie to her but I couldn't tell her the truth. I couldn't trust her."

"I understand that but she does not. She said…" Hunith trails off, averting he gaze and Merlin frowns.

"Said what?"

"Nothing, she was lying, you wouldn't do that."

"Do what?" Even as he asks he knows what she is trying to deny. His eyes grow sad and guilty and Hunith's mouth falls open.

"Poison? Why?"

"I had no choice, the city was dying and I had to stop it…but if I could go back and change it I would. I've told myself from that day on that I had to do it but I feel so ashamed. It was the most awful thing I've done…amongst all the blood on my hands."

Hunith lays her hand against his cheek and he holds back tears. "Merlin…" she tries to offer condolences but there are none to give nor does he want them. She loves him, despite what he has done and that is enough.

"She's going to use this knowledge against me. She'll tell Arthur."

Just when he is about to tell his friend and King. It has been over ten years and as each year passes he tells himself that he will do it but each year comes and goes and still he keeps the truth hidden. Morgana must not ruin his chance. Merlin races for the door as spits of rain begin to fall.

"Merlin! What are you going to do?"

"Something I should have done a long time ago," he answers and runs from the door, leaving Hunith to stare after him with worry.

note:

Merlin/Morgana confrontation next...