Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin. Merlin belongs to Merlin (I guess the original beardy Merlin...? And I'm not talking about Dragoon) and BBC
Authors Note: Thank you so much to everyone who's still reading this. It's about to take a pretty deep turn, so watch out. This is where it kinda gets a bit...urm, different.
(Special thanks to DarthZ, Authoressinhiding, MB the cat, and especially to Darkmiror! Thanks so much guys! You all rock :D

The castle shuddered one more time before Arthur and his knights were down the hall. They skidded to a stop at cross-section where two corridors branched off. One led to the armory, while the other led back to the main castle. All of the knights except for Lancelot were still dressed in their fighting garb, but they had dropped off their weapons before seeing to Gaius. The faithful followers of Prince Arthur glanced around at themselves, waiting for orders from their future king. They could either rush immediately to where Morgana was attacking, or they obey any of the orders their prince was about to issue. Gwaine in particular shifted uncomfortably as they waited for Arthur to react.

Internally Arthur's mind was spinning in violent circles. The others still didn't quite grasp how powerful Morgana and the other two truly were now. They had only heard the stories; Arthur lived the nightmare. If Arthur couldn't come up with a way to destroy the immortal monsters, he was going to be forced to watch as one by one his knights fell in front of him like stones. The worst part was that the prince couldn't think of anything that could possibly stop Morgana and her evil cohorts.

The only one who would have known is de—

"Sire…?" Sir Leon's hesitant voice broke through Arthur's thoughts. He blinked and forced himself to return to the hopeless situation at hand. When he saw that he had his leader's attention, Leon continued. "What do you wish us to do?"

Arthur swallowed. It's time to make the decision. Now or never. "Elyan, Gwaine, and you will go to the armory. Get whatever you can, and find the other knights. Get them as prepared as you can." Sir Leon nodded, and the three men instantly disappeared down the darker tunnel. He turned to Percival and a grimacing Lancelot, who was struggling to keep up due to his leg injury. "Percival, take Lancelot to the top of the battlements. Set him up with a crossbow or something." He stared directly into the injured knight's eyes, daring him to protest. "If I find out that you've tried to join the direct combat fighting, you won't have to worry about Morgana killing you."

Lancelot swallowed, deciding to hang the Knight's Code for a moment regarding "fighting despite any injury," and nodded. "I will do my best from up there, My Lord." Percival nodded as well, wordlessly assuring his future king that he too would protect Camelot—or die trying.

Arthur dismissed them with a curt "good luck," and watched as they tried to set off quickly towards the stairs. When Lancelot wasn't hobbling fast enough for the bear of a knight, Percival merely bent down and all but hoisted the protesting knight into the air and set off at a much faster pace. Arthur suppressed a chuckle, and then refocused on his job.

I need to find a way to stop Morgana. He painfully racked his brain for memories of that horrible night, trying to recall some repressed memory that would be the king to their undoing.

The cup. The table. The spell. Arthur cursed. He neither knew magic nor possessed either of the former two objects. Nearly giving up, the answer finally came to him with a painful flash of memory.

The knife. For some strange reason, Arthur had chosen to take the brutal tool used to kill Merlin with him. He had no idea as to why he did it then, but now it was starting to make a fragment of sense. It's the only way to stop Morgana, he was sure of it. Ignoring the frantic calls of his name by random guards, Arthur dashed to his room as fast as possible.

Another shudder rocked the castle, throwing him to the ground. Arthur hit the stone floor with a grunt, scrambled back to his feet, and kept running. Glass shattered and furniture toppled as the screams and cries of his terrified people echoed around him. The future king steeled his mind against these pleads for mercy and kept up his breathtaking pace to his room.

By the time he made it to his room, Arthur was already exhausted, and he hadn't even begun to fight yet. Staggering in an almost somnambulatory manner to his bedside table, he quickly grabbed Merlin's crackled and stained scarf, and the knife safely wrapped inside. Not even wasting time to unwrap it, he stuck the entire fabric covered package in his pocket. He turned towards the window, almost casually, as if he were checking the weather, when Morgana's evil, glowing smile appeared. Arthur didn't even have time to curse properly before every single pane of glass exploded in a glistening, shrapnel shower. Glass rained down on the future king, tiny and long shards alike slicing his bare skin. He raised his arms and ducked his head to try to protect his vulnerable face, but it was no use. The glittering blades left no revealed skin untouched, as if they were magically enchanted to cut him in every way possible. Another gust of wind pushed the huddled prince backwards, smashing him roughly against the stone pillars in his room. He gasped as the air was forcefully knocked from his lungs, and he slid weakly to the ground. His back ached not only where it had connected with the wall, but also where the stone knife, despite its comfortable cushion, nicked into his flesh. Arthur grimaced as he looked up at his new visitor.

"Hello, brother."

Even while Percival was unceremoniously carrying him to the top of the castle's parapets, Lancelot was having second thoughts about following his prince's orders. He knew, deep down, that it was required that every knight serve his king (or future king) faithfully without ever questioning an order. However, Lancelot also knew that it was required for his honor and his conscience to protect Camelot and those who he swore allegiance to, despite the mortal danger it posed for him. It was very likely that he would be no longer among the living if he decided to fight the way that Arthur had forbidden him to, but he couldn't stand and watch as Camelot burned.

Especially after what those sorcerers had done to his friend.

Making a decision and sticking to it, Lancelot all but rolled out of Percival's arm. Catching the giant by surprise, Lancelot landed with a rather loud bump on the stone floor. Struggling to his feet, Lancelot darted backwards to avoid being grabbed by Percival.

"I'm going to fight, Perc. Neither you nor Arthur can stop me."

Percival paused, and then nodded. "I understand." If he were in the same situation, he too wouldn't back down just because Arthur "suggested" that he take it easy, and refrain from fighting.

Lancelot gave a shaky smile to his friend when suddenly both of the knights were smacked with an invisible block. Percival staggered backwards, able to hang onto most of his precious balance, but Lancelot tumbled to the ground and skidded ungracefully across the stone floor. This time he was slower as he got back to his feet, even with Percival aiding him.

"It's one of them," he growled. Percival agreed with a firm nod, trying to find the shine of a black curl or the glint of Morgause's body armor. Instead they saw the flap of a blue cloak and the flash of a youthful smile that held no mercy.

Of the three in Arthur's story, neither of them had ever met Mordred in person. However, the dark crackle of powerful magic and the simultaneous shudder that ran down their spines informed the two young men that they were in the presence of one of Merlin's butchers.

"Mordred." The way Lancelot spat out the name was more of a statement then a question.

The young boy's smile merely lifted a bit higher, but not quite reaching the two haunting orbs of blue that served at his eyes. Instead of confirming the knight's name, his eyes merely glowed a horrid shade of gold tinged with crimson.

Percival, who had subtly been drawing his sword and was preparing to charge at the young boy, jerked backwards with a horrible gulp. He smashed so forcefully against the stone walls that the white rock cracked where his head had hit, leaving behind a stark red trail as the man slid to the ground with a groan.

Anger flared in Lancelot's gut to see his strongest friend beaten so. He lunged at the boy, managing to catch the gloating sorcerer off guard, slicing him across the shoulder. Mordred glared at the shred in his thick cloak, one of the corners of his mouth rising into a hateful sneer. His eyes flashed the same shade of gold, tinted with crimson, and Lancelot locked all of the joints in his body, preparing to be flying through the air at any moment. Instead, the light cut on the boy's shoulder sealed up, barely leaving a scratch. He returned his gaze back to the glaring knight.

"Why did you kill Merlin?" Lancelot demanded, raising his sword again. "Why?"

"It was the destiny of Emrys," the boy whispered, his voice sending shivers through Lancelot's bloodstream. Suddenly the injured knight couldn't breathe. His hands flew up to his throat, trying to pull away the invisible fists grasping his trachea. Through his watering eyes, Lancelot could see that the boy was smiling as he murmured some dark spell. He gasped twice more, trying to get just a mouthful of oxygen into his lungs, before the dull sound of something falling hit his ears.

By the time he realized that was his own limp body that had collapsed to the floor, the darkness finally overtook his own consciousness, and he was aware of nothing more.

The main fight outside the fortified walls of the citadel was not going well. After they had supplied as many men they could of the tools that were needed to stand a chance against their enemies, the three knights instantly threw themselves haphazardly into battle. With a terrified twist in his gut, Sir Leon noted that their enemies were the same bandits who had apprehended them a few days ago, before Merlin was slaughtered.

Their swords and crossbow bolts were completely useless against the magical, immortal army. Even though the knights of the Camelot outnumber their opponents two-to-one, the number of knights was dwindling quickly, while the immortal monsters only seemed to be getting more bloodthirsty.

"Fall back!" Sir Leon shouted to the tattered remains of his men. He shuddered at the déjà vu moment as his few, faithful knights circled around him. He did a quick head count of all of the hopeful faces staring at him, noting with a twist in his gut that the dark face of Elyan wasn't present.

Gwaine noticed too, his blank expression seeming to say he knew the risks. Sir Leon swallowed. They all knew the risks. He glanced from side to side, trying to gain an accurate measure of the true bravery of all his men.

"Men, you have my permission to retreat. However," the leader of the knights hesitated, "if you chose to fight, your names will be honored throughout Camelot until the end of time." It was a suicide mission to keep fighting, and they all knew it. Without the sight of their future king for reassurance, many of the men shifted uncertainly, wondering how honorable it really was to die.

"I'm fighting," Gwaine almost snarled, pushing himself away from the cowards around him. "And you call yourselves knights," he murmured under his breath. Sir Leon and a few of the bravest also confirmed their will to fight, truly understanding what it meant to be a knight in Camelot, while the others slowly shifted away to the shadows. Throwing a thankful glance at the charming, and often drunk knight, Sir Leon raised his sword again, preparing to cry out his only and true kingdom's name.

The clatter of armor behind them caused the men to pause and turn around. Morgause, in her complete and stunning beauty again, smiled coyly at the famous knights.

"Morgause," Sir Leon glared at the witch, raising his sword in her direction.

The blond grinned triumphantly. "Sir Leon?" I'm surprised to see you aren't dead yet."

The blond knight narrowed his eyes as Gwaine forced himself into the conversation. "Why did you kill Merlin, you witch?" he growled.

Morgause simply smiled, shrugging her iron clad shoulders. "It was in our destinies." A whispered word danced across her tongue as her sword suddenly burst into flames. With another smirk, she launched herself at the two knights, eyes glowing yellow and red like the flames as they were suddenly immobilized.

"Hello, brother."

Arthur glared up at his half-sister from the floor. Small tiny rivers of blood trickled down his forehead, face, and arms from the shattered glass. He wasn't sure if it was anger or blood in his eyes that was giving everything a reddish tint.

"Morgana," he snarled. He tried to get up, but an invisible force was keeping him crushed to the floor. Arthur twisted under his magical bonds, hating the feeling of hopelessness he was feeling yet again.

The witch slowly floated through the imploded window and stepped daintily onto the fallen diamonds scattered across the floor. Each footstep she took crackled, causing Arthur's teeth to ache. She paused when she was halfway between the pinned prince and the window, glancing around with a look of mock surprise.

"I'm surprised to see no one with you. Usually you always have some idiot of a manservant trailing you around like a lost puppy." Arthur choked back furious shouts, throwing himself viciously against the bonds that secured him to the ground. Morgana watched her brother's reaction with an expression of twisted glee. "Oh, was that a touchy subject?" she pouted slightly with her lips pursed. She took another step towards Arthur, taking care to step on a few more pieces of broken glass. Arthur watched her approach, wishing he knew how to use magic at that moment so he could glare a hole through the witch.

"Why?"

"That's a rather broad question, Arthur." Morgana sounded almost bored. She picked slightly at her nails, waiting for the boy to get more specific.

"Why are you doing this?"

Realizing that the prince wasn't going to narrow down his question any further, Morgana sighed, as if explaining her plans to spoiled princes was the most excruciatingly boring thing to do.

"At first it was to get back at Uther for everything he's done to me and my people."

"Then why kill another sorcerer?"

Morgana smiled thinly at her half-brother. "I doubt you'd understand anything about destinies," Arthur suppressed the need to snort bitterly, "but Emrys was my destiny…and my doom. If I didn't strike first, well, Emrys might be the one talking to you right now."

I'd definitely prefer that. "So you killed Merlin to save your own skin? That's just like something our father would do." Arthur was sure to stress the fact that they shared a common parent.

The dark haired witch's smirk morphed into a sneer. "Unlike Uther, I wasn't a fool. I didn't hesitate." She calmed herself suddenly, the furious expression softening back into a smile. "Besides, there were other benefits to killing Emrys. I'm sure you can figure them out."

Arthur gritted his teeth. "When you're done gloating, kill me now. I won't beg for mercy, so you're wasting your time."

"But Arthur, I haven't told you all of the best parts yet. Do you know what Mordred and Morgause are doing that this moment?" Arthur felt something drop in the pit of his stomach. "I didn't know knights could bleed that much." The prince strained against his bonds. "And it is a nice turn of events to see your precious knights burn instead of my people," she sneered. "A little bit of justice in this unfair world."

"Morgana!"

"Do you know where I went first?" Arthur didn't want to know. "First, I decided to visit the physician's chambers. Just to visit some old friends. You wouldn't believe who I saw there. A former future queen and an old sorcerer." Her next smile was incredibly malicious. "We won't have to worry about Gwen stealing my throne now."

Arthur's breath was sucked in with a pained gasp. No… Not Gwen too. "You're lying!" he screamed at the smirking witch in front of him.

"Unfortunately I didn't have time to carve her and Gaius up as neatly as I did Merlin those few nights ago," Morgana carried on, seemingly ignoring her writhing brother. If she were paying more attention to her enemy and less to her triumphs, she would have noticed her magical bonds weakening. Arthur was finally able to move his arms and hands again, wrapping his trembling fingers around the stained stone knife concealed in Merlin's scarf.

"You seemed pretty upset when we killed him. I thought you would be pleased to have such a dangerous sorcerer executed for his crimes of treason."

The only one guilty of treason it you, the prince snarled in his mind. Finally finding the strength to completely rip free from Morgana's magic, he launched himself at the oblivious witch. Her satisfied smirk was barely able to shift to an expression of utter horror as the stone knife was plunged deep into her chest, in the same exact spot that she had stabbed Merlin.

"What have you done!?" she shrieked, her terrified face morphing into a black expression. She didn't look frightened—she looked livid. Arthur twisted the knife deeper into her chest, wondering why she wasn't bleeding, and if he was truly able to kill her. Morgana pulled herself free from the knife's blade, holding a shuddering hand over where the puncture hole was supposed to be.

Arthur staggered backwards, the tumultuous events of the past few days finally starting to get to him. He forced his drooping eyes to remain open as Morgana continued to scream at him. Wind whistled around them, not unlike the way it did when they were about to sacrifice Merlin. The violent gusts caused his eyes to water and his cuts to sting, but he didn't dare to look away. His half-sister's eyes transformed from their normal gray, to a bright yellow, all the way to a crimson that was so dark it was nearly black. Her black lips were moving quickly, producing a terrible spell that would surely bring imminent doom to Camelot. Arthur was bracing himself for the finally words and the collapse of his kingdom, when everything abruptly stopped.

Everything went dark, and Arthur's world suddenly tipped on edge.

"Will he be all right?"

"He'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Go get some water."

At the mention of the refreshing liquid of life, Arthur felt himself savagely beat back the walls of the oppressive darkness. He pried open his eyes, wincing instantly at the bright light that flooded his sore pupils. Arthur hissed slightly, squeezing his eyes shut tighter.

"Sire…?" The surprised and worried whisper sounded above Arthur's head. It sounded familiar. Arthur slowly peeked up at the person by his bed, gently sliding open his delicate eyelids. Relief flooded his system like a drug as he saw who it was.

Gaius. "I knew Morgana didn't kill you," he tried to say. All that got out was a dry croaking and a few syllables. Arthur swallowed, trying to wet his throat enough to repeat what he had said.

Even though he had no idea what the boy had said, Gaius smiled because of the prince's sudden awareness. "We're glad you're finally awake, Arthur."

We…? Arthur struggled to remember what had happened. In an equally strong flood of dread and angst, Arthur was painfully reminded of Morgana's dark sacrifice and her attack on Camelot. The young prince jerked forward, only to be pushed back down gently by the old physician.

"You must rest, Sire," the old man protested.

"Morgana!" Arthur's wild eyes darted around the room. He was thoroughly confused. The two were in Arthur's chambers, but everything looked exactly as it had before Morgana had attacked. No glass was sprayed across the floor, and no furniture had fallen over. What happened? "Where's Morgana?" He tried to jerk away from the doctor's hold. "She killed Gwen—she tried to kill the knights. She killed Mer—"

"Arthur!" Gaius worried shout broke through Arthur's panicked ramblings. "Gwen isn't hurt. Neither are any of your knights. Everything is fine." His placating whisper did little to calm the prince's nerves.

What about Lancelot? What about Sir Leon and Percival? Elyan and Gwaine? Morgana said she killed them! Arthur took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "Where is Morgana? She was here; she tried to kill us all."

Gaius exchanged glanced with someone who had just entered the room. Arthur couldn't see who they were, but he hoped they had answers. Or at least some water.

"Sire…" Gaius wasn't sure what to do with the hysterical prince. "I assure you, you are safe from Morgana. She cannot harm you."

Arthur shook his head. "You don't understand, Gaius. She killed Merlin. I saw it!"

Suddenly there was the sound of splintering china and splashing water. Whoever had been holding the jar of water just dropped it, shattering the vase into a million pieces. Arthur's and Gaius's gaze jerked instantly towards the newest addition to the group.

"That's not possible, Arthur. Morgana's dead." Arthur could barely believe his eyes as to who was standing in front of him. The pale boy, who Arthur thought he would never see again, trembled slightly, unsure of what his prince was saying.

"Morgana's dead," Merlin repeated, wide eyes watching Arthur carefully, "because you killed her, Arthur."

So, uh, who else got kinda nervous there for a second? I did.
Oh, yeah. That mind screw stuff I warned you guys about...?
It starts NOW!
(Oh, and this chapter is dedicated to all of you who wanted to see Arthur stab Morgana with the stone knife xD)