Hello, fellow Merlin-lubbers, and welcome to what will (I hope) be my first multi-chapter story type… thing. Well. There's a plot, of sorts, so it probably counts. I don't think there's much that could spoil specific episodes, though general character patterns and fates maybe. A few things you ought to know about the premise of this story:

Arthur has reigned for two years. Uther died in an accident without Morgana's involvement. Arthur is unmarried, and Merlin is his closest confidante à la S5.

Morgana has been gone from Camelot for four years, fighting sporadically with Arthur. She has not taken the throne at any point and was imprisoned briefly in exile by another king. She is not as deranged as the show would have us believe, but she is anti-Pendragon. She is not Arthur's sister; her parentage is that of pre-S3.

Gwen is still a servant, and closer to Merlin than Arthur.

Lancelot is alive. The core circle of knights is made up of him, Gwaine, Percival, Leon and Elyan.

PART I

"Hello Merlin."

Arthur, leaning against the wall beside the door, greeted Merlin ominously as soon as the erstwhile manservant bundled through the door. Merlin winced.

"Er, hello sire," he replied cautiously, smiling placatingly as he turned to face Arthur, his hands fidgeting behind his back.

"And where have we been tonight?"

"That... depends on where Gaius told you I was."

"Three guesses."

"The tavern," Merlin sighed. "Again." he added under his breath.

"Yes. Becoming something of a habit for you, isn't it, Merlin?" said Arthur, leaning back with his arms folded, light voice laced with mockery. "Well no matter. How about you wash those socks tomorrow to make up for the work you missed, hm?"

"The socks? What socks?" asked Merlin blankly.

"All the socks," replied Arthur with a gleeful pointed stare. "And when you're done with that my armour is in a bit of a state, so you can do that too-" just as Merlin was about to sigh heavily, and Arthur list another five chores, they were interrupted by the sound of the alarm bell tolling. They looked sharply at one another at once. Arthur dropped all light heartedness at once, his expression turning to one of alertness and seriousness the instant the first clang cut the night air. It was late, about the time the castle would be turning quietly to slumber, but now the corridors were suddenly awakened, filled with the sound of pounding feet as guards rushed to answer the alarm call. Arthur too seized his sword and leapt to the door, Merlin following after.

In the courtyard, Arthur and Merlin ran into the knights. Leon, Elyan and Percival uttered a hasty "milord" at the sight of Arthur, who immediately asked about the alarm call.

"We don't know exactly, Sire, only that an intruder has entered Camelot," answered Sir Leon.

"How did they get past the walls?"

"I'm told that sorcery may have been involved, my lord," replied Leon heavily. "We have all guards on alert, but there's been no sign since so far,"

"We keep looking," ordered Arthur. "They must not escape."

A loud yell cut the air. Arthur immediately gestured for the others to follow him and they rushed through the courtyard and under a narrow arch to the west gate. A knight in his scarlet cape was sprawled on the stone paving, his sword a few inches from his gloved hand. Leon quickly hurried to the man and put his fingers to his throat.

"Sir Cadog," said Leon in a relieved tone. "Alive."

"Who did this?" asked Elyan, looking around nervously. Arthur swept his gaze around the deserted passage, the high walls of the citadel eerily dark in the shadow of the night. The moon, which ought to be full, was hidden behind a thick swarm of cloud so all that was visible was just a faint, blurry white glow. But there were no signs of the intruder.

"Well, whoever it was isn't here now..." Arthur said slowly. "But don't lower your guard. We'll go to-"

"My lord!" Came the familiar voice of Sir Lancelot. Footsteps pounded on the stone. Arthur looked up, startled, and a heavily breathing Lancelot arrived, leaning on the wall. "In the front courtyard. Sire, you must come quickly!"

With a swift glance at Merlin, Arthur raced after Lancelot. All five of them charged through to the biggest courtyard without hesitation, and drew to a halt when they saw a circle of scarlet-cloaked knights stood with swords raised, pointing inwardly to whatever lay within the enclosure. They jostled, nervously, warily, as if afraid of it, despite the strength in their numbers. Arthur and Merlin exchanged glances. Something there was dangerous.

Arthur marched to the knights unwaveringly. They parted to allow him through the human circle, Merlin and the others close behind.

"What is it, have you foun-" Arthur pulled up short so Merlin nearly collided with him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, but Arthur had utterly frozen. Merlin craned to see past his shoulder, and his eyes fell on a dark shape. Arthur felt his veins turn to ice.

"Morgana."

PART II

She turned her face towards Arthur, slowly, her alabaster skin tinged with grey but her sea green eyes as piercing as ever. Her hair was in wild disarray and her black gown was visibly torn. She cradled her left wrist awkwardly, and was making no attempt to regain her feet.

"Hello, Arthur," she said in her low voice, her eyes not leaving the King. A muscle was jumping in Arthur's jaw, like he was grinding his teeth at the very sound of her voice. He held her gaze but seemed reluctant to do so, holding it only because he was unable to look away.

"Seize her," he said hoarsely, and Morgana flung up her right hand. All the knights immediately recoiled a step and raised their swords defensively, while a whispered spell was dancing on Merlin's tongue, sure that Morgana was about to strike. But the expected onslaught did not come, and Morgana merely gazed intensely at Arthur, her hand still raised.

"I am not here for trouble," she grated out, her expression hard. "Do you think I would come here like this if I were?" she said bitterly. "I come with a warning, Arthur Pendragon, and you would do well not to ignore it,"

It was enough to make Arthur lower his sword a fraction, but he shook his head. "I do not heed a word you say any more, Morgana," he replied gravely. Morgana simply looked at him and spoke again.

"You have unwelcome visitors in your territory, Arthur. I have met them. We did not get along," she said voice dripping with irony, gesturing at the rips in her clothing and the awkward movement of her left arm. Arthur noticed a long cut on the other, and felt his resolution against her waver, against his will. He swallowed.

"A group of sorcerers. They call themselves the Wiersa. They are powerful users of magic, and they are hungry for power. Above all they loathe your reign and all you stand for." Arthur fancied he saw a glitter of darkness register in Morgana's eyes for a second. Presumably, or so he assumed, she shared that sentiment. The thought steeled him against his troubled sympathies and his expression hardened.

"I would've thought you'd be on excellent terms with them, then." He said bluntly. Morgana laughed without much real humour.

"Not an unreasonable assumption, I grant you," she said, looking almost amused for an instant before her expression grew dark. "But I like them even less than they like you, and they would not hesitate to destroy me," she replied flatly. "Thus I come here offering..." she paused, searching for an adequate word. "My services, in exchange for the protection of the citadel. And I assure you, Arthur, you will need help in due course."

"I can't trust that you speak the truth," Arthur said tonelessly.

"No. And yet here I am, throwing myself at your mercy," Morgana replied sardonically. "I am powerless to escape. Do you think I would be here unnecessarily?"

"What of Sir Cadog? You could've killed him. Why should I believe you won't do the same to us all?"

Morgana's face clouded. "An unintentional accident. Your knight surprised me and I was wounded. I did not intend to harm him. His life was never in danger."

Arthur glanced at Merlin, who shared his look of deep consternation. The knights were growing restless, each of them well aware of the deadly power Morgana held, and fearing this was somehow a trap that would ensnare them all. Arthur could tell many of them were itching to do something, anything, to eliminate the threat, and were waiting with bated breath for his signal. But he found himself frozen as he tried to process what Morgana had said. Could it be true? Did he want it to be true? He had considered Morgana lost to him forever, but could not deny that some small part of him clung to the desperate hope that she might yet be returned to him as she once was.

But looking at her crouched on the ground like a wounded wild animal, he felt deep prickling unease. He knew, rationally, that he did not know this version of Morgana. She wasn't the girl to whom he would once have entrusted his life, or the girl for whose safety and happiness he would willingly have given up his throne. She was a twisted, blackened version of her, shrouded in lies and schemes. The real question was, was the true Morgana still alive in there somewhere, or was she gone for good?

All was silent in the courtyard, awaiting Arthur's command. His mouth opened and closed, and he struggled; for the first time in his reign he truly wished someone else would just take control and tell him what to do, because conflict was consuming his mind and clouding his ability to think rationally. He did not want to choose.

"I..." he finally said, wetting his dry lips. "Considering your history, you cannot expect me to have any level of trust in what you say now-" he broke off hoarsely, shaking his head. "You are an enemy of Camelot. I cannot assume you are doing anything but for your own ends now. You have proved yourself well practised in deceit and trickery for years since you left this castle. I cannot let you walk free." said Arthur, heavily, avoiding Morgana's gaze.

Yet if he had looked up at that moment, he would have seen the first glimmer of true fear in her eyes, as she realised that perhaps she had laid too much on the hope of finding Arthur's mercy. She looked round the circle at the knights who were still, wary, unsure, swords halfway sheathed, and turned tormented eyes to Arthur.

"Arthur, I-"

"What are you waiting for?" Elyan's voice suddenly boomed out alarmingly loudly, drowning out Morgana's whisper. "Take her!"

The other knights seemed to snap out of their reveries, and the sound of a dozen swords scraping out of sheaths accompanied their stirring into action. Morgana closed her eyes, the weight of her terrible mistake settling on her as she remained prone on the ground. Her magic was useless. Arthur looked about him in sudden panic as his men closed in on her, the bravest of them striding towards her with blades held aloft and grim expressions of determination fixed in place as they descended-

"No!" Arthur's sudden bark stilled the knights at once. Their eyes at once flew to their king, before they looked to one another in confusion and uncertainty, swords still held aloft. Morgana's eyes snapped open.

"But... my Lord, she is our greatest enemy, surely you would want-" began Sir Leon, hesitantly.

"I said no, Leon," Arthur interrupted, but more calmly than before. He did not take his eyes off the crouched figure of Morgana, and a charged moment passed between them as their their gazes locked. Arthur's brow knotted, unnerved. He looked away. "Take her to the dungeons. Get Gaius to see to her wounds," he ordered, and Morgana let out a tiny breath, her expression clearing. She seemed to rouse herself to bring back some of her bravado, but it did not erase the memory of her face from mere seconds ago in Arthur's mind, of her afraid and powerless, so small and threatened. He felt a disconcerting abhorrence that he had been the cause of that fearful look and took in a bolstering deep breath, looking about him as if to dare any challengers to speak up. The knights looked restless and discomforted.

"But sire, her powers... this may be our only chance. If she is able to escape from the dungeon she could wreak great damage..." reasoned Elyan, and the other knights murmured their concurrence.

"I am aware, Elyan. But if what she says is true, then she will stay in the dungeon willingly, and wait to present her case." Arthur said solidly. He turned to speak quietly to the six men most trusted to him so only they could hear. "Perhaps this has been a battle of nerve that I have just conceded, but I must know more, and I need you to trust me."

Elyan, Merlin and Leon exchanged uneasy looks, but Percival, Gwaine and Lancelot hesitated only for a moment before they sheathed their swords, their loyalty to Arthur superceding their anxiety. The others did not look happy, but finally each man assented with a dip of his head. Arthur turned back and spoke at large. "I am willing to grant the Lady Morgana a day's grace while further information is gathered. She will remain in the dungeon until then."

"And if she does not?" Elyan said, looking unhappy with Arthur's decision, his fingers still playing on the hilt of his sword.

"On my head be it," Arthur replied, and a tiny smile flickered over Morgana's features. Arthur glimpsed it, and felt wildly disconcerted, unable to tell what that little expression meant and found himself once again gripped with a fear that he had committed a grave error, and that it would quite literally be on his head, and that of every man standing there. He set his jaw, and looked each of his knights in the eye. "For Camelot. If Morgana's story is true, then it seems we may all be in danger anyway by dawn. I must know more before I act," he said, and the knights lowered their gazes in compliance to the King's wishes. Their loyalty to him was unshakeable now, but Arthur hoped desperately he was right to do this, or he knew all that could change.

"How very wise of you." Morgana's voice came as a shock, and fourteen pairs of eyes immediately darted to her. Three hands crept towards swords in belts, and Arthur held up a hand. He stood, calm as he could be, and watched her levelly, as she shifted on the ground, slowly rising to her feet. "Perhaps you've learnt to control that boneheaded recklessness after all? But that doesn't sound like you, does it?" She stood up as tall as she could manage, pride keeping her from showing the pain she was certainly in, but a grimace escaped before she could smooth her features over with cool disinterest. Arthur, ignoring her callous words, found himself battling a powerful instinct to go to her, to help her up and ease her pain.

A self-assured mask reappeared on Morgana's face as she seemed to know that her life was secure, at least for the night, and appeared unable to resist needling Arthur further. He felt wary, like he was attempting to put a partiularly vicious wild animal in a cage, and did not remark. Experience had taught him that no amount of caution was enough with this version of Morgana, robed in black, the shadows of distrust and suffering etched into her pale face, and so he turned away before his conflicted emotions could make him act foolishly.

"I will come to you in the morning, Morgana," he said stiffly.

"I'll eagerly count each passing moment until I have that pleasure, shall I?" came her light mocking reply, and Arthur sensed each of his knights bristling indignantly at the possibility of disrespect to their king. Arthur felt the strange irritation of youth that only Morgana had ever managed to wring out of him and his grip on his sword tightened, but he said nothing more, and only gestured to Percival and Leon to escort Morgana to the dungeons. She went without a fight. He wondered, briefly, if she was disappointed that he would not play her games, and tried not to watch her as she was led away.

"The rest of you get some sleep," said Arthur flatly, feeling the low thrum of a headache already blooming in his temples. ''Merlin, with me."

Arthur strode back to his chambers without speaking to Merlin, who followed after him in tactful silence. When they got in, Arthur threw a chair back from the table, flung himself into it and steepled his fingers, elbows on knees, leaning his chin on his thumbs. Merlin waited, hands behind his back, watching Arthur's troubled contemplation.

"What do you make of this, Merlin?" said Arthur at last. He looked up, then gestured for his manservant to sit, which startled him somewhat. Merlin moved cautiously and sat across from Arthur. "Was I wrong to stop my knights?"

Merlin did not answer for a moment, then spoke in a quiet voice. "Morgana would never have made herself vulnerable like that without good reason. I think she was speaking the truth."

"But even if she was... did I give up what might be our best ever chance at stopping her?" Arthur replied agitatedly, staring at his hands. "We will never have her at our mercy in that way again, Merlin. I am sure of it." They both knew it was true, and Merlin did not respond for a second.

"Why did you do it?" asked Merlin. Arthur looked up, and Merin held his gaze.

"I thought she was telling the truth."

"Is that the only reason?"

Arthur frowned, and both of them knew what the implication was, but Arthur stubbornly said "I don't know what you mean."

"Arthur, it's Morgana. She'll never be just anyone to you. It can't be easy having to decide her fate... she's... we all cared about her. You more than anyone; no one could blame you for wanting to believe-"

"No," Arthur cut him off quickly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I cannot afford to let our past cloud what I do now. I have to think about what's best for Camelot. I do not regard her differently to any other. I will judge her as if she were a stranger... and that's what she is." Arthur said firmly. "I don't recognise her as the girl I grew up with. She's not the Morgana I once knew."

"And loved." Merlin added softly. Arthur's gaze jolted to him, not angry, but strained.

"It is in the past. Whatever I felt for her then is of no importance now. I can only listen to her story and decide what will best protect Camelot, from her if not from these sorcerers she speaks of."

Merlin nodded. "I know you'll do what you think is right." he said slowly.

"But?" Arthur prompted, knowing Merlin too well to miss the preoccupation in his tone.

"I just... Morgana can't be trusted, Arthur. I worry you'll put yourself in danger because you want to help her when she might... she might be beyond any of our help," he said, eyes downcast so his long eyelashes curled against his pale skin, looking concerned that Arthur would be angered at his words. However, Arthur merely rested his arms on his chair and looked distantly at nothing in particular. He sighed heavily.

"We will see where we stand tomorrow," Arthur said at last, sounding surer than he felt. Merlin hesitated, then nodded. "Get some sleep, Merlin." Merlin dipped his head and exited the King's chambers, though Arthur would have no idea that Merlin did not plan on sleeping that night, anxious by Morgana's nearness and intent on standing guard for Arthur well into the night.

Magic like Morgana's would need magic to hold it off, after all.