Those of you that read The Heir have probably already noticed a few similarities (and for those of you that haven't read it, you don't need to to get this story. So no sweat). I'm thinking of turning this into some kind of series-ish thing that pokes fun at the characters . . . or maybe just Morgana. Whaddya say?

Set in kind of an alternate version of 4.13 where Morgana actually catches 'Emrys' before he escapes.

Also like The Heir, this one isn't beta-ed, unfortunately, so if you spot any errors, please tell me, I know I won't catch them all.

Frankly, my dear, I don't own Merlin.

Black hair rustled against black clothes and heeled boots tapped against the stone as the newly-crowned (again) Queen of Camelot approached the group of figures before her. All but two were Southron soldiers; one of the two was the tall dark-skinned Helios, sword drawn. His eyes barely flickered in the direction of Morgana before he continued watching the last person.

Morgana allowed herself to eye the man as she stalked closer, because if there was one thing she and Uther agreed on, it was know your enemy.

He looked exactly as she remembered him: old, white-haired, blue-eyed, red-robed, and absolutely terrifying. But, being Morgana and determined to win, she stood even straighter and attempted to look down her nose at the warlock as she came to a halt in front of him.

"Emrys," she said, trying to sound triumphant, but it came out stiff instead.

"Morgana," he returned, bowing slightly. "I understand I should congratulate you on your appointment as Queen of Camelot. What is this, the second time?"

Good heavens, was he smirking? This whole situation did not bode well for the witch. But, still being Morgana and determined to put this old man in his place, she allowed a smirk to come onto her lips that would have eclipsed any seasoned smirker's expression. If he wanted to play this game she could too.

"Yes," she said almost dreamily. "And it was so easy both times. Rather puts a spot on poor Arthur's record, doesn't it?"

She had sensed somewhere along the line that Emrys felt an incomprehensible loyalty to Camelot's king (ex-king, she reminded herself), but if she was hoping this would be a blow to the man's confidence, she was sorely mistaken. He smiled.

"One could say the same about you, m'lady. Because, well, Arthur has ruled for far longer than you have." He put on a thoughtful expression. "I wonder what it is about Camelot that makes her so hard to keep?"

Morgana almost growled, anger reaching towards the boiling point. "I wonder what it is about you that makes you so determined to take her from me!"

Emrys raised an eyebrow, still amused. "You mean it isn't obvious?"

The queen took a threatening step forward. "The only thing obvious to me," she said, "is that you are a traitor to your kind." As if realizing something funny, she moved her head a little bit to the side and almost smiled. One can only imagine she was fantasizing about ordering the man's decapitation.

Emrys' eyebrows threatened to wander off his forehead. "Oh really? A traitor to my kind, am I?" He leaned forward, his face where that typical Dragoon-the-Great expression: like a sneer, but worse. Underneath it, though, Morgana detected something else, something that would have made a lesser woman than her shiver. "Well, then. You seem to know everything, Morgana. How do you propose magic returns to Albion?"

Morgana smiled slowly. "My proposal is already in motion, oh mighty Emrys," she mocked. As she spoke, she began circling him like . . . well, like the creepy witch she was. "Camelot is in my hands. Arthur flees at my approach. And you are also in my power."

Emrys' lips twitched, as if he was hiding a smile.

"Once Arthur is dead, the people will accept me. They'll have to, or die. I will finally be rid of the laws suppressing magic."

The queen smiled triumphantly. Helios and his soldiers looked impressed.

Emrys was unmoved. He contemplated her words for a moment, then said:

"Let me get this straight: Kill Arthur, get rid of magic-hating laws. Correct?"

Morgana frowned; she got the feeling that somewhere under that confusion, she was being mocked. "Yes," she replied slowly. "Simple, but perfect."

"Oh yes, simple indeed," Emrys murmured. "Alright, I got that. Then what?"

She smiled. "Then Albion."

"I see. How?"

There was a moment of silence. "What do you mean, how?"

"I mean, how Albion?"

"How Albion, what does that even mean?"

Emrys sighed in frustration. "How do you intend to take Albion?"

Several brows furrowed.

"How do you think?" Morgana demanded. The man was insufferably slow. "The normal way."

Comprehension dawned. "Aha! I see!" he said, smiling. "So . . . the normal way . . ." He stroked his beard for a moment. Morgana was just about to order him taken to the dungeons when he spoke again. "I am, of course, assuming that you have several back-up plans for when 'the normal way' inevitably fails." Seeing Morgana's dangerous expression, he continued hastily. "No no no, really! I mean, you're not seriously thinking of taking over Albion in the same way you've taken Camelot!"

The queen raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong with this way?"

"Well, think about it," Emrys said in what Morgana considered to be an overly patronizing tone. Somehow, he was enjoying himself. "Arthur is a good man, a good king, even you cannot deny that he's doing a pretty good job, considering! But, he's young. Inexperienced. A bit naive. Not surprising; he's been king for less than a year."

"Yes . . . " Morgana agreed quietly, wondering exactly where this conversation was going.

"Yes," Emrys echoed her, smiling a little. Then he leaned forward and said seriously, "You will find that the rest of the kings are a little harder to get around."

Morgana blinked, surprised.

"Take Olaf, for instance," Emrys continued, stepping back again and speaking louder. "The man's paranoid, not to mention extremely protective of his daughter. Right now I can just imagine him sitting on his throne, listening to the news of Camelot's fall, and wondering if he'll be next. Do you really think he's going to just sit around and wait for you to come to him?" The old sorcerer smiled humorlessly. "Not likely.

"And, let's see, how about Lot? You do realize he hates magic, right? With a passion. A burning passion. A burning, fiery passion that would come nigh to reaching Uther's. He's not going to be happy with you on the throne of Camelot either, nor will he tolerate any advances into his kingdom."

Morgana's jaw clenched. "I have magic, and-"

Emrys laughed. "Oh, you have magic, do you? Well, guess who also had magic: Mary Collins. Cornelius Sigan. Nimueh. And a whole lot of other people that have come to Camelot over the years, many before I showed up, before you start spouting about how I was the one that scared them off. You do realize that the Five Kingdoms have survived for, what, twenty-five years, against the onslaught of sorcerers? That means those kings know what they're doing. They're not stupid, and they won't be taken off guard."

Morgana lifted her head and clenched her jaw. "I'll find a way. I always do."

The old warlock tilted his head a little and contemplated her; his eyes were piercing and there was a finality about them. "Yes, I'm sure you will. And I will stop you, as I always do."

Morgana realized that the conversation had gone entirely out of her control and struggled to regain a foothold. "And how do you plan on doing that?" she questioned with a touch of her old fire. "You're my captive now."

"Hmm, yes, about that . . . " Emrys said. "I only came so I could tell you that - well sort of, anyway - so now there's no point in me staying. I hope you don't mind . . . "

Four minutes later, as she held her aching head and struggled not to blow up at her only ally, Morgana reflected that she probably should have been expecting that.

"What is important is to spread confusion, not eliminate it."

— Salvador Dalí

Of course, this raises the question of what's going to happen to Arthur when he legalizes magic, but oh well, you can't have everything, right?

So, I'd like to know what you thought, about the story and about the idea of a series. Would you be okay with that? Do you have any ideas for it? This one wasn't as humorous as The Heir, I know (and it was longer too; shocking!), but it just sort of . . . happened that way.

(BTW, I posted a poll of my profile: if you wanted to go look at it, that'd be cool.)

Please review!