A/N- I know, I know, you guys probably hate me for killing the baby, but there was a purpose behind it. Other than pointing out that his vision was wrong, anyways, here's 13, sorry for it being relatively short.

It had been two weeks since she had lost the baby. Two weeks since Merlin had planted the seed in her mind. Two weeks that she had racked her brain to think of who could have been behind the obvious assassination of her unborn child. She twirled a lock of hair around her finger as she walked into the woods. There had been one who had entered her mind and had quickly been dismissed, but now it was back. Ian. How obvious had it been to name him? How oblivious had she been to dismiss him? She knew, just knew Merlin shared her thoughts, but they hadn't spoken of the incident. She rubbed a hand across her stomach, it felt hollow, empty. She still cried at night, still found it hard to eat. Now, she thought, now was the time to seek revenge.

What are you doing? Merlin prodded gently. She scowled at the intrusion on her thoughts. Murdering Ian won't bring the child back.

What did he know? She groused to herself. He wasn't the one who had been carrying, who had felt the first movement, who had dealt with the hormones. No, murdering Ian would be much too simple, much too easy. She wanted revenge. She came to the river, the place that brought her peace, but instead of peace she had tears, and sorrow.

"The deed is done," the man said softly as he walked beside Shannon. "There'll be no child for her."

"Does she suspect?"

"I don't think so," he replied with a shrug. "She blames Ian."

"Marvelous," the Irishwoman sidestepped around a chicken pecking at the dirt. "Is Morgan—"

"The potion is in the process of being made, as soon as it's done you can drink it and a child will be in the makings." He inspected his short nails, chipped from fighting. "My payment?"

"Will come to you when a child is born." Shannon finished his sentence with a tosse of her head. "You have my word."

"The last time I took the word of an Irishman I was nearly killed."

"That's because he was of low standing."

"Shannon, when can we let the people know that we're family?" The man asked bitterly. "You get all the glory and your brother is left with nothing."

"You are a half brother Thomas, and an assassin at that." Shannon snarled. "You will remain hidden, understand?"

"Understood," the assassin muttered. Neither of them took notice of the man watching from above.

So that was how she played the game, Merlin observed as the sister of Moira and the man walked away. He had heard nearly all of it, but enough of it to be sure. They had killed his child in order to get Shannon pregnant. "Morgan must know," he muttered to himself. "A Druid and a sorcerer…" He tapped his fingers against the wood of the window. "There's more to it then Moira told me."

"Oh aye, ye can believe that," Larkin said from the doorway. Merlin turned, and smiled slightly in greeting. "She gave you a short version, eh?"

"Powerful witch is all she said."

"That sums it up nicely." Larkin took a seat on the trunk containing books. "Did she mention t'would of killed her if she did have it?"

"She left that part out," Merlin stated darkly.

"Tis part of a curse," Larkin bit into a shiny red apple that he had snatched from the kitchens. "See, she may give birth to the most powerful witch of we'll say her time, but part of it is that if she wants the babe to live, she needs to give her own life."

"That's absurd."

"Tis true, bullshit, but true."

"So, it's sons or nothing?" Merlin ventured.

"If you want to roll the dice and risk her life," Larkin shrugged. "Up to you really."

"Thank you for the insightful talk." The man groused.

"Oh, I'm a ray of sunshine Merlin," Larkin grinned. "But in all seriousness, you can choose at the time of birth. That's what me mother did…"

"Your mothers alive though—"'

"Second mother. Shannon and Moira have different mums."

"So how does Shannon have a trace…"

"We don't know," Larkin interrupted. "We really don't." He walked over to the man that would someday be his brother-in-law. "She loves you, that's why it's bothering her so much."

"She should rely on me then," Merlin watched the form of Moira emerge from the woods. "She knows she's not alone."

"She finds it better to be alone," Larkin observed his baby sister, his one true love at the moment, walk. "She'll walk through wind, through rain, through Hell itself, and she'll always believe she needs to do it alone."

"She'll never walk alone, not while I'm here," swore Merlin softly. Larkin glanced at him and dropped his gaze with a smile. "But she won't believe that will she?"

"Not a chance."

Merlin approached her slowly, like he would approach a frightened foal. "Moira…" He spoke softly. She turned her head; he could see she had been crying. "Come here, my love." He opened his arms and enveloped her in a tight, protective hug. "I don't need a child," he stroked a hand down her hair. "But I do need you."

She buried her head into the side of his neck, seeking safety, seeking warmth. "I want to give you a child."

"Wanting and needing are two different things, love." Merlin replied. "All I want and need is you."

"You have me."

"Then I have the world." He pressed his lips against hers breathing in the scent of the woods. Moira stood in his embrace, gazing at the doors to her room, maybe they could carry on without a child, but she still wanted to know who in the world had taken it from her. She would find out.

"I love you, Merlin." She murmured. She had a plan.