Oh my gosh. I can't believe we've reached the end. This is, undoubtedly, my favorite work so far for this fandom. My first completed long-fic. Whoa.

It looks like it might also be my last Merlin story ever, aside from a one-shot that's been sitting on my computer for two years and that's gonna be published when I feel like editing it in my collection "Tracks of Our Tears". *shameless self-publishing*

Even though I did have half an idea for a sequel, I'm not planning on writing it anytime soon. So, I'm sorry if some of you wanted to see a Merlin/Arthur reunion. I had to write this story in a limited time, and I wanted it to be focused on Merlin and Morgana. It's already a big enough accomplishment that I finished this story. A sequel would be mind-blowing, though not entirely excluded from my options. If I ever feel like writing something for Merlin, that'll be it.

So, I hope you enjoyed this story and that very step of the road was a good one for you guys. It certainly was for me. I'm so sorry for the delay of the last chapters, but I had problems with the internet and RL. *rolls eyes*

Once again, a special thanks to everyone who read, followed, favorited, added to a community (WHOA, 3 communities! *dies*) and most of all to everyone who found the time to review it. You're all amazing, and I love you for having spent a small part of your life on this story. Thank you.

*hands pieces of virtual cake and virtual champagne*

...I'l stop rambling now. Enjoy! I hope to see you around again :D

Chapter 7

"We're running away."

Morgana looked at Merlin with a surprised frown on her pale face.

One week had passed since he had shown her that he could still use magic even with the cold iron manacles on his wrists, and the warlock was now getting restless. There was no time to lose.

The witch looked at him. "When?" she simply asked.

Merlin smiled. He would enjoy shocking her. "Right now," he said, and relished in the almost comical widening of her eyes and her open-mouthed gaping expression. "Are you ready?"

Morgana, after having regained her composure, straightened her back as much as she could. "As ready as I'll ever be."

The warlock nodded at her and closed his eyes, focusing on opening his manacles. He had practiced with other spells and had managed to master them all, becoming almost immune to the pain. Hoping for the best, he whispered "Unspanne me," while picturing in his head the shackles unfastening.

Opening his eyes to check, he was disappointed. He met Morgana's anxious eyes, "Don't worry," he said. "It will work."

Closing his eyes once again, he focused on what he needed to do. But soon, his own mind betrayed him, and his thoughts strayed to something else — or better, someone else. His head was full of images of the woman in front of him.

The first time he saw her, looking out from her window during Thomas Collins' execution, he thought she was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes upon — a princess trapped in the taller tower of the palace, like in the tales his mother used to tell him at night. Then she became one of his best friends, and he came to cherish her greatly. She helped him with the Afanc, he helped her with Mordred, she helped him with Ealdor, he helped her with her nightmares. She thanked him for letting her meet the Druids, she told him he was good friend, but really he wasn't — he could have told her, he could have finally told her, but he didn't. Then the last betrayal, the most hurtful — he condemned her to death, he used her as leverage to save Camelot. He could still see her clearly — suffocating, wheezing, agonising in his arms, and looking at him with those bright, scared eyes.

And suddenly his mind flashed forwards, to the moment when she was crying for him, sobbing, screaming her lungs out because he was being hurt in her stead. Her eyes had stayed the same, even though almost ten years had passed since she had lived in Camelot. She was still the same woman who had told him that maybe magic wasn't evil and wasn't something people chose, disregarding Uther's lessons completely because she saw in Mordred an innocent young boy and not a dangerous sorcerer.

She had done many horrible things since then, but so had he, and now Destiny had brought them together once again.

They trusted each other, believed in each other. That was why he couldn't disappoint her — he knew she wouldn't blame him, but he would blame himself for not keeping his promise. He would free her, be it the last thing he did, but he would.

With that thought in mind — that his objective wasn't opening the manacles, but freeing Morgana and Aithusa and himself — Merlin closed his eyes and breathed in. "Unspanne me," he said loudly and clearly.

The sound of metal clattering on the ground was like honey to his ears.

Merlin opened his eyes and grinned at Morgana, showing her his unbound — but sore — wrists. She laughed out loud, something she had never done in front of him before — a lady laughing heartily was frowned upon, and laughing while imprisoned was a bit out of question. But now the idea of being free was a solid possibility, and Morgana showed her joy in the most instinctive way.

"Unspanne þás mægþ," Merlin muttered, and Morgana's shackles opened. He looked down at Aithusa and his eyes glowed gold — oh, what a wonderful thing it was to be able to cast a spell without reciting it — and the chain tied around the dragon's neck unfastened, falling to the ground.

Feeling giddy, the warlock finally stood up and stretched his limbs, closing his eyes for a moment to fully bathe in the sensation of his magic flowing freely inside his body. It felt like flying — it was the most inebriating things he had ever experienced.

Merlin would have loved to stay like that for a bit longer, but the matter at hand demanded his whole attention. He glanced at Morgana and helped her up. Smiling lopsidedly, he gestured for her to do as she pleased. "Ladies first."

The high priestess snorted and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "Do you still see a lady in me?", but nonetheless proceeded to do what she had to.

Raising her head, she looked at the opening of the well, a good ten meters above their heads. She knew that the Sarrum's thugs kept ropes tied to the border of the opening, which were used to bring the prisoners out to question them — there they had the means to escape.

With a glow of her eyes, she made two ropes silently fall down. "Here," she said, handing one to Merlin. "Tie it around your waist," she instructed, and proceeded to do the same.

She knelt down to cradle Aithusa in her arms and then stood up again. Breathing in deeply, she looked at Merlin, who had been staring at her, and told him "I'm ready."

The warlock nodded, and raised his hand to cast a silent incantation. The ropes began to move slowly but constantly, lifting both of them up.

In a matter of minutes, they had reached the border of the well. Merlin looked over it and saw that the scoundrels the Sarrum had sent to keep watch were sleeping. He heaved himself up, over the border and on solid ground, and then helped Morgana up.

After unbinding himself and the witch, he walked carefully towards the thugs and, looking at the ropes, whispered "Gehæftan."

The ropes moved soundlessly and wove around the bodies of the men, effectively restraining them, but waking them up. Before they had the chance to call for help, though, Morgana made them fall unconscious with a wave of her hand.

Merlin smiled at her, grateful, and then gestured for her to follow him.

They made their way out of the castle grounds and managed to run undisturbed for a dozen of minutes, until the warning bell sounded. "Damn it," Merlin cursed. "They must have noticed our disappearance. We have to hurry."

Morgana glanced at him, worried, but never stopping in her tracks. "It doesn't matter if we hurry or not. They have horses and will reach us, eventually. We must find somewhere to go."

Merlin threw her a grin. "O ye, of little faith — I planned this out already," he said, stopping to avoid tripping over a tree's root. "Now that I don't have those manacles on, my dragonlord abilities have returned. I will call Kilgharrah as soon as we reach a clearing big enough, and he'll bring us to safety."

The witch let out a sigh of relief, and tried to increase her speed as much as she could with Aithusa in her arms. "Good to know," she panted, and was about to add something else when she heard the sound of horses' hooves hitting the ground. Her heart squeezed in fear inside her chest, "They found us!" she yelled, and in the desperate tone of voice Merlin heard all the fear she was feeling.

He was beginning to panic, too, until he realised that the trees were thinning and that they were getting close to a clearing. "Ω δρακον, έάω μαλερός σοφόνους φθέγγομαι τείδε άναδικέω!" he roared, almost out of breath.

They reached the area where Kilgharrah would land, and hoped the dragon would arrive soon — or at least before the mercenaries caught up with them.

Merlin turned around to see a couple of men riding black horses, and to his chagrin he realised that one of them had bow and arrows. At the same time, he felt Kilgharrah's presence get closer.

Too busy focusing on his connection to the dragon, he didn't notice the arrow coming towards them until he heard Morgana calling his name. "Merlin, look out!" she warned.

It was too late; the arrow had already embedded itself in Merlin's flank, and in the timespan of a heartbeat he went from upright to kneeling on the ground, cradling the wound and trying to stop the blood flow.

Morgana crouched beside him but kept looking at their opponents, erecting an invisible barrier around them. She then raised her head to look at the sky, and was relieved to see the dragon about to land.

When the mighty beast touched the ground, it was evident he was surprised to see Morgana. "You," he roared, but what insult he might have had on the tip of his tongue seemed to die as soon as his orange eyes fell on Merlin.

The warlock was still conscious, but if the amount of blood he was losing was anything to go by, he wouldn't be for long. In his haze, though, he seemed to sense the dragon's reluctance to let Morgana ride him. "Kilgharrah, please," he begged. "We need your help."

The beast narrowed his eyes in mistrust, but nonetheless bowed to them. Merlin stood up on shaky legs, and Morgana hurried to help him walk. Aithusa half-flew, half-climbed on the larger dragon, while they carefully made their way on his back.

Kilgharrah opened his wings and leapt in the air, spitting fire over the Sarrum's thugs and incinerating them.

Flying was the best feeling in the world, but Morgana had no time to enjoy it. She had to staunch the blood flow from Merlin's wound, but first she needed to remove the arrow. Curling her hands around the shaft, she pulled it out with a brusque movement, ignoring Merlin's pained groan. Instantly, dark blood began to pour out of the small but deep wound, and she firmly pressed her hand on it to keep the haemorrhage at bay.

Her cold exterior might have made it look like she knew what she was doing, like she was an expert in these matters. Truth was, she really wasn't — and she couldn't help the lump of fear that got stuck in her throat. Merlin couldn't die, he couldn't — they had come so far, further then they ever expected, and now he went and got himself killed? It wasn't right.

Trying not to hyperventilate, Morgana closed her eyes and put her hands on the wound. "Ic ðe ðurhhæle ðinu licsar mid ðam sundorcræft ðære ealdan æ. Drycræft ðurhhæle ðina wunda ond ðe geedstaðolie," she whispered. It had to work — it had always worked until now.

Morgana opened her eyes, but was disappointed to find that the wound hadn't closed. It was to be expected, really — she was too weak and hadn't used magic for a long time.

Tears blurred her vision. "Merlin," she choked out. "Merlin, please. It can't end like this. You promised you wouldn't leave me alone, you promised you would stay by my side — you can't die, Merlin, please! Please," she begged between sobs and hiccups, and again repeated the spell.

It still didn't work.

The witch didn't know what to do anymore. Merlin was unconscious, now — he had been for quite some time — lying half on Kilgharrah's back and half on Morgana's lap. He was pale as a sheet, his blood covered the witch's hands, and his breaths sounded softer than normal.

She let her head fall on his chest, burying her face in his shirt, and sobbed. It was over — she had failed him. "You promised," she whimpered again. "You can't leave me," her voice broke.

Something nuzzled her side and startled her so badly that she almost fell off the dragon's back. It was Aithusa, looking at her with those wide blue eyes of hers. Those orbs shifted to Merlin, then, and Morgana didn't wang to hope that the little creature would manage to heal the warlock, lest she be disappointed again.

Biting her lip, she watched as Aithusa breathed a golden mist over Merlin, whose body began to glow slightly. Morgana had to close her eyes at the sight.

When she opened them again, it was to find Merlin healed, his paleness receding and giving place to a healthy rosiness. She waited with baited breath and then, after what seemed like a century, Merlin opened his eyes.

The witch shrieked in joy and threw herself over him, relieved to the point of tears. "Thanks to Triple Goddess!" she exclaimed, and hugged him.

After a moment, she realised how weird it was for her to be hugging him and receded. "Uhm, sorry, I don't know what came over me..." she stammered out, uncertain of what Merlin's reaction would be.

He shifted to get a better grip on Kilgharrah's scales — the dragon had been blessedly quiet and hadn't commented on Morgana's action, which made everything slightly less awkward — and grinned at the woman. "Don't worry about it. I have a tendency to easily charm girls," he joked to lighten atmosphere.

She swatted at his arm. "Stupid," she muttered, and then added, "You had me worried for a moment there."

His features softened. "I'm sorry," he said. "But you should have known that you won't get rid of me that easily."

Morgana laughed. "Indeed! You've been a thorn in my side for so long, and here I was hoping you would finally cease to annoy me with your presence — how remiss of me," she teased, and they both laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of the statement. Had she said it a year ago, it would have been true, while now it could only be an innocent joke.

They stayed in companionable silence during the flight, and enjoyed the sensation of being on top of the world, as well as the feeling of fresh air on their skin. They were finally free.

It was the beginning of a new life. It would be difficult, and it would of course be painful, but they would eventually find a way out of the darkest period of their existences.

And they would do it together, Morgana was sure. Maybe it was thanks to her Seer powers, but somehow she knew that in this new life of hers, Merlin would be by her side every step of the way.

FIN.

Spells:

"Unspanne me" — imperative form, it means "Unfasten me".

"Unspanne þás mægþ!" — imperative form, it means "Unfasten this maiden", taken from 2x09, when Merlin took the manacles off Freya's wrists.

"Gehæftan" — meaning "Restrain", from 1x11, used by Anhora.

"Ic ðe ðurhhæle ðinu licsar mid ðam sundorcræft ðære ealdan æ. Drycræft ðurhhæle ðina wunda ond ðe geedstaðolie!" — meaning "I heal you thoroughly from your wound with that special power that is ancient. Oh! Magic heals thoroughly your wounds and strengthens you!", from 4x06, used by Morgana to heal Merlin's chest wound.

Merlin's appeal to Kilgharrah is in Homeric Greek.

"Ω δρακον, έάω μαλερός σοφόνους φθέγγομαι τείδε άναδικέω!" (read: "O drakon, eao maleros sofonous ftengomai teide anadikeo!") — it means "O dragon, permit the appeal for an audience to speak here, fierce, wise-minded one! Come to earth!"

Spells mostly taken from Merlin Wikia.