Morgause stood strong, a warrior's stance, with arm outstretched and fingers curled into rigid claws. Her other arm gripped a bloody blade which glowed with an eerie red light. Her hair was matted, more brown and rust-colored than blonde at this point. Blood caked at her chapped lips, which split again in a joyous sort of shock. Her enemy had fallen before she had the chance to mutter a single word!

Across the forest clearing, littered with scarred and smoking trees, and men in no better state, bleeding and dying, some smashed into rocks, others smoldering in their armor, there stood a figure tall and formidable. With a flex of tense muscles, he pulled the sword out from his enemy's back and watched with a vicious sort of pride as the sorcerer crumpled, his dark robes obscuring his face even in death. Arthur hefted his sword and raised his gaze across the field to Morgause. Wide-eyed, she stood frozen, her next words caught behind her lips. Arthur figured she must be shocked at how he had so easily felled her ally, and he decided to take advantage of this momentary reprieve by running towards her, sword at the ready. However, before he could get within ten feet of her, she seemed to come back to herself, and quickly shouted a shielding spell, which Arthur slammed against. He somehow managed to keep his footing. Without losing momentum, he began slashing at the shield with his sword, furiously.

Morgause bared her teeth in a triumphant grin, shouting at the fool of a Prince, "It is no use, Pendragon! Do you think a mere sword can possibly win against magic? You are powerless against me!" Arthur continued his attack of the shield, sparks flying from the metal. The shining membrane about her refused to yield. Morgause responded with a spell that threw him to the leaf-littered earth. "You will pay for all those crimes you have committed against my kin!" Power rippled about her, eyes burning golden. And she grinned a pretty grin which did not really seem to match her face at all. She raised her hand towards him, "What a weak little thing you are, after all." Small flames began to dance about her fingers.

Arthur grit his teeth and gripped his sword, eyes not leaving the witch as he thought to his knights strewn across the clearing, crumpled pell-mell, some crippled, some already dead, and all to fight but three sorcerers. One sorcerer was Morgause, who stood before him with a mad sort of glee on her face. The other was his sister, (it pained him to even acknowledge that fact), the traitorous Morgana, who had disappeared somewhere. He dreaded to think where. He hoped, with a knot in his stomach, that Camelot was safe, that his father was safe. The last sorcerer was the man he had stabbed. As the man had turned to help Morgause, Arthur had rushed forward, his sword gleaming as it breeched the flesh of the sorcerer. The man fell, magic words dying halfway upon his lips. Blood quickly stained the dark robes he wore even darker. Normally, Arthur would have qualms about stabbing a man in the back, but Arthur had no moral code against sorcerers, especially in the heat of battle when time was of the utmost essence. Not when his people were in danger.

"Weak?" growled Arthur, his limbs screaming at him in protest to continued movement as he stood again. "A sorcerer lies dead by my sword, yet you still claim I cannot win against magic! You speak nothing but lies, witch!" His feet slid into sword-stance, ready to lunge or defend should she attack. But she didn't attack. In fact, she lowered her hand and her eyes slid back to blue. She began to laugh, heartily, as if she couldn't contain herself any longer. Arthur tried to quench the sickening feeling spreading in the pit of his stomach. "I killed your ally! Yet you laugh?" He must control the anxiety bubbling in him. Arthur grit his teeth some more.

Morgause managed to overcome her fit of mirth and stood tall again, back straightening in some semblance of dignity. She looked over at the man who lay strewn in dark robes, which stood out amongst the red cloaks of Camelot, and spoke, "He was no ally of mine. I was about to kill him, when you came in and did the job so nicely for me. I only wish I could have seen his face, if he had known it was you who killed him! To die in such ignorance, it was better than he deserved," she deliberately turned her gaze back towards Arthur, who stood powerlessly outside of her shield, and who astutely kept his gaze on her, despite the desire to look back at the dead sorcerer, "You don't even know what I'm talking about do you? Oh, this will be fun!"

He made to surge at her, but by just a word, he had been frozen in place, unable to move any of his limbs. She flicked her wrist, and barked a word, and the figure rose into the air, robes fluttering about his body. Another flick, another word, and he began to drift towards the two. Only his hand could be seen, hanging from the fabric, thin and pale and limp. Arthur held his breath, but he didn't know why. When the man finally got to Morgause, he began to fall, but she grabbed the front of his robes, and he hung from her. Arthur could hear a muffled cough come from the man. Morgause seemed to get only happier.

"He lives! But only just. He will know the face of his traitor. And then…" she trailed off and a gleam came into her eye. "What a marvelous opportunity I have before me." She whispered snake-like words laced with magic and she let the figure go. He fell in a heap and curled into a ball, but now Arthur could see him breathing and shaking. "Welcome back, Emrys," said she. She let him hack for a few seconds before she hauled him up again, this time by the back of the neck, quick and cruel in her movements, and ripped the hood away from his head. Arthur gasped. If he hadn't been frozen, he may have fallen to his knees in shock.

There hung Merlin, in the witch's talons, looking lifeless but for the unsteady heaving of his chest. He coughed again, flecks of blood adorning his chin, before he weakly and slowly opened his eyes. Dull blue eyes shifted hazily until they met Arthur's. "…'live… you're… a-" he coughed again, "Arth…" he could barely articulate, but there was relief in his voice.

Arthur tried to contain the horror he was feeling.

"Behold the face of your murderer, boy!" Morgause had a manic tone to her voice, but Merlin didn't seem to hear what she said. He hadn't even realized he was being held by her before she spoke, let alone that she was there at all.

Things happened very quickly after that. Merlin's eyes glowed golden and the sky turned dark. The atmosphere rumbled, Morgause screamed, and Arthur was released from his binding. Morgause's eyes glowed as well and she shouted a string of powerful words, "Bedyrne ús! Astýre ús þanonweard!" Wind whipped around the pair, and both disappeared.

Arthur scrambled to his feet, but stood alone in the dark forest, his knights spread out around him.

AN: I'm not sure if I want to continue this. Large stories are daunting to me. However, I do have a rough plot, so if there's enough desire for it, I'll continue the story- though I'll definitely be on the lookout for a beta, if that's the would be lovely!