Guess who's back? A HUGE thanks to Erica for sticking by me through all my craziness and for being my amazing ghostwriter!

After the festivities had run themselves into the ground, Morgana thought it best to retire to her chambers. Phantoms of Uther's smug expression flew around inside her head. Morgana presented herself as unawares, but she wasn't blindsided so easily. What chilled her fingertips was not Uther's pleasure at her expense, but his odd acceptance of her pain during the feast. Morgana's contemplations took all of her attention and she was startled to have arrived at her door so quickly.

Sensing someone within her room, Morgana had half a mind grab the nearest weapon. However, the detection of someone familiar lowered her defenses and the tension in her shoulders lessened. Morgana opened the door and found Arthur lounging on one of her chairs.

As soon as she entered, she found his expression to be conflicting, with concern and curiosity at war on his face. She knew what to do to ease his confusion; she glided over to Arthur, positioning herself on his lap as she brought a hand to his cheek.

He spoke softly afraid his voice would break the air. "Morgana... what happened during the feast? Thankfully I managed to hide most of your shaking, but I'm afraid that my father caught on."

Morgana was agitated to catch the tone of self-righteousness in his voice, but chose to disregard it because his concern was genuine. Morgana shifted her weight backwards to stand. The idea of sitting anymore made her feel closed in like a stalled horse.

Sensing her growing tension Arthur stood up as well, bracing himself for whatever came next. He was prepared to hold her tight in comfort, or restrain her from wreaking havoc.

Morgana, the usually proactive one in the pair, seemed at an utter loss. "I don't know."

Arthur took that as permission to act, and surrounded her in himself. She resisted slightly, fighting his grasp, but Arthur just buried her even deeper into his arms. He whispered airily into the strands of her hair, "You're still holding back."

Morgana didn't have an answer; just an impulse to fight. She sighed deeply. "Arthur, don't let your big head believe for one second that this has anything to do with you. I love you, you know that. I'm not fighting you, I'm fighting myself."

The reassurance seemed to wake the slightly slumped prince. "And I love you, Morgana; that should be incentive enough for you to answer my question. What the hell happened at the feast?"

The consternation dripped from his voice. Morgana was sick of hiding things. She loved Arthur and for that reason, to really mean her vow, she had to be open. Now was not the time to shut him out, despite her reservations.

Mustering up an inhale, Morgana said, "I had a vision. It was Mordred. Arthur, I could hear it in his voice, he's in trouble."

Arthur wasn't sure how to react; he hated seeing what visions could do to Morgana, but he had a deep wariness of Mordred. He shivered slightly as he remembered how much sway the young boy had over Morgana. He did not want a repeat of the last incident, especially where Morgana openly lied to him, so he was cautious. "Morgana, what did you see?"

Morgana replied, "It was a camp encircled by fire. People were screaming... it was horrible. And then, I heard Mordred's voice, begging for help."

Arthur considered the words carefully. "I understand. What do you want to do? It's your call."

Morgana was taken with his willingness to listen, and not take charge. "I need to find him, and then warn him before it's too late. I won't let anything harm that child, Arthur." The defiance emanated from her as she spoke.

Arthur found her resolve quite endearing, and couldn't help himself, the urge to kiss her suddenly overwhelming. He quickly swept her up into his arms, despite her resistance, and set her down on the bed. Before she could protest further, he crawled over her, leaving kisses along her cheek.

She let out a low laugh as he nibbled at the tip of her ear. The laugh evolved into a hardy shriek as he ventured to the base of her jaw, leaving bite marks.

Morgana clasped his face between her hands and turned his head to meet her gaze. She gently pulled him down to rest just above her lips. He shut his eyes and began to close the gap, but before he could get any closer, he found himself on the floor.

Morgana had taken advantage of his closed eyes, and pushed him off of the bed. He gave her an expression of mock hurt, but Morgana wasn't fooled. She dismounted from the bed and landed on top of him with a hearty groan from Arthur.

Arthur whined, "You know, for someone who says they love me, this isn't a good way to show it."

Morgana smirked wickedly. "Turnabout's fair play, is it not?" She lowered her head, and scorched Arthur's lips with a fiery kiss.

Arthur was still out of breath, but after a moment he returned the kiss.

Morgana bit down on his lip, pulling back just enough to murmur, "Stop trying to distract me."

Failing miserably to contain a laugh, Arthur pressed his lips forcefully into hers once more, ignoring her complaint.

All composure abandoned long ago, the pair resigned themselves to the whims of lust. They did this better than actually talking. Eventually, Morgana's motions because less sensual, and it took awhile for Arthur to catch on, but he eventually relented, allowing her to stand.

Compromising on a half hearted apology from Morgana, and a final kiss, Arthur was satisfied. "So this grand plan of yours, you plan on letting me in on it?"

Morgana rolled her eyes. "I don't have any plan, I told you, I just want to warn him somehow."

"And does this warning require you putting yourself in danger?"

She decided not to answer that. "Get some rest," she ordered. "We'll talk about it in the morning."

Arthur sighed, trying once more, "You know, I could be useful."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she trilled, smiling demurely.

He tugged her close one last time and murmured against her hair, "Don't do anything stupid."

Morgana pushed him off gently, making no promises. "Stay here then. You can watch over me."

He reluctantly trailed after her as she tugged him towards the bed, and as they laid down, Morgana curled up into his side, her mind still resonating with echoes of screams.

Morgana never really fell asleep that night. The visages of Mordred bathed in tears of fear and the accompanying screams proved too much. The evening was still, as if holding its breath until Morgana burst. Morgana could feel the flames threatening to spill over Mordred's skin, and hear his pounding heart. That little boy, the boy whose life she treasured was in danger, and it was unacceptable.

Turning her head to peer at the prince slumbering next to her, Morgana laughed bitterly to herself knowing fully well that Arthur didn't approve of her affection towards the boy. He would think even less of her reckless trek into the woods following a mere vision, but her pondering had already taken up too much time already.

Carefully unwinding herself from the blankets, Morgana darted from the bed. The last thing she wanted was to awaken Arthur. Although Arthur was a notorious heavy sleeper, no risks could be taken. She looked to the window and took note that the depths of night were thankfully warded off by the moon, allowing her a hazard free walk.

Hastily, Morgana rummaged through her drawers. Coming across her chain mail, Morgana slipped on the armor and attached her sheathed sword to her waist. Silently weaving her hair into a simple bun and making sure all fastenings were secure, Morgana took one last look at Arthur. Savoring a small smile at Arthur snoring soundly, Morgana took that pleasant scene with her as she exited the room.

More than anything Morgana wanted to employ a transportation spell, or at least what she could manage of one, but that would be risky, especially with Uther nearby. She couldn't give the maniacal man anymore reason to doubt her. Settling upon old fashioned sneaking, Morgana crept forward, swimming through the copious shadows. Morgana was set to turn a corner when her attention was caught by the crunching of metal boots and the clanging of armor customary of a guard. Biting her tongue in frustration, Morgana backed up against the wall and forced herself to strategize.

She had two options- to engage the guards head on, which would entail risking innocent lives, or the one that she preferred which was causing a distraction. Comfortably settling on the latter, she reached out with her magic. Latching on to a decorative suit of armor, Morgana's magic ricocheted off of the smooth surface and down towards the floor, bringing the armor crashing down with it. Feeling the guard jump at the sudden commotion and charge to the source, Morgana wasted no time in scurrying across the hallway and down a few staircases.

Sensing the presence of more guards rushing to reinforce their comrades, Morgana ducked behind a display and waited for the forces to pass. Breathing in, Morgana swept out of her hiding spot and hurried to the closest window. Glancing down, Morgana gaged the distance from the castle to the stone courtyard waiting below, and decided to take her chances.

Quietly unlatching the window, Morgana lifted herself over the ledge and plunged head first into the night air. Suddenly time slowed, and Morgana was able to end her descent with a flourishing tuck and roll. Nimbly landing on her feet, Morgana set out in a sprint to reach the stables.

The whines of the approaching horses and the thump of her footsteps carried Morgana forward as her silver steed caught her eye. Arriving at her horse's side Morgana leapt over the fence and plucked the saddle and bridle from the rack to her right. Morgana set to work readying her horse for the journey ahead.

Morgana exhaled, releasing all of her tumbling anxieties as she mounted the mare and kicked her in the sides. Not missing a beat, the horse jumped over the stable barrier and galloped across the expansive courtyard.

Reaching the imposing gates that served as the entrance of the city, Morgana was stupefied to find the main gate left open and unguarded. Something tasted strange as she breathed in, and Morgana knew the lack of protection for the city was a matter of questioning, but Mordred needed her. Her other concerns could wait a few hours.

Casting one last glance at the kingdom of Camelot, Morgana abandoned every reservation at the boundary point and rode out into the woods.

The ride was calm and the only noise was the occasional rustling of plants. Morgana continued for a few hours until it became evident that her horse was tiring from the prolonged effort. For the past hour Morgana had desperately been calling for her premonition to return, but to no avail. Gently sliding off of the horse and leading her to a gurgling pond, Morgana sat down on the damp grass to renew her efforts.

Morgana closed her eyes, and strained. Nothing, not even a whisper. Scoffing at her ineptitude, Morgana knelt down to retrieve a handful of water when her ear drums burst. An orchestra of cries erupted. Morgana fell onto her elbows into the water and grabbed her head.

Morgana closed her eyes, and breathed deep. After a few agonizing moments, Morgana deciphered the ramblings.

The voice of the boy spoke, "Morgana! Help me! Morgana! Morgana!" Morgana's heart broke. She wanted nothing more than to respond, to give the boy hope, but she knew better.

The voice wasn't an actual telepathic current, but merely a psychic echo of last night. Following instinct to wherever the voice came from, Morgana hurriedly mounted her horse. As she turned towards the source of the voices, she let her magic guide her, setting a course through the forest. She rode harder and faster as the voice became clearer in her head.

Hoofbeats resounded through the trees, dirt flying from the quick impact with the earth. Morgana's head was pounding, but as she reached the clearing, the noises started to subside, and a wave of calm washed over her.

She dismounted from her horse and tied her to an oak tree. The echoes were fading, but the hair on her neck began to stand on end.

Closing her eyes to focus, Morgana listened and caught the new words bouncing through her head.

"Do not come any further. We are a peaceful people, but those who align themselves with Uther Pendragon are not welcome here. Turn around and I give you my word that you will be permitted safe passage."

Morgana scrunched her face in confusion. Mordred was the only one she knew capable of direct telepathy. The person contacting her must be powerful, but she stood her ground. "I mean you no harm. I'm here to help."

No one responded to her plea. Tempering her anger, Morgana reminded herself of how important her mission was. The safety of the boy came before any petty taunts. Her hand instinctively crept onto the delicate handle of her sword as she proceeded forward.

Morgana narrowed her eyes and let them trace the surrounding landscape, searching for anything out of the ordinary. Either the Druids knew nothing of defensive measures or she was walking right into a trap. As she moved forward, she realized it was the latter, as the presence of multiple others suddenly made themselves known.

Morgana was quickly surrounded, and she forced herself to remain calm. "Please," she pleaded, "I've come to warn you."

"Warn us? Sounds like a threat," a voice called out.

"I am no friend of Uther Pendragon's, I can promise you that," Morgana tried. "I'm trying to protect you, not hurt you."

An older man stepped forward, his dark eyes questioning. "We need no protection here. Why would you come, other than to expose us?"

Morgana's insides burned, but she pushed down her frustration. These people were her only lead to Mordred, and she needed their help. Taking a deep breath, Morgana looked up again. "As I said, I am here to offer a warning. I had a vision. Your camp was engulfed in flames, and I saw-" She stopped, sensing a familiar pull, and she looked up to see a dark haired boy through the low hanging fog. He had gotten taller, and his face had sharpened a bit with age, but those eyes were still the same.

"Let her pass, she's a friend," the boy called.

Morgana could feel her pulse quicken with excitement at the prospect of being reunited with Mordred. Her stony face melted into an expansive smile as she saw the boy pushing through the crowd. As soon as he was in reach, Morgana leapt forward and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Morgana! You're here!"

Instantaneously, Morgana answered, "Yes, I'm here. I've missed you so much."

With that sentiment, the pair tightened the hug, almost afraid to let the other go. Morgana sighed as she drew apart from the wiry young boy. Playfully she ruffled the long bangs that swooped onto his forehead.

Remembering the task at hand, Morgana turned to address the crowd of Druids. "I apologize for the the intrusion, my concern for the boy clouded my judgement. Please heed my warning, you must prepare, you are all in danger."

As her short speech faded into nonexistence Morgana was baffled by the following reaction. The people were laughing.

"Why are you laughing? Your lives are in peril. Do you not believe me?"

The older man shuffled forward. "My lady, I do appreciate the honest concern for our wellbeing; I must admit I expected far less from the ward of Uther, but I'm afraid you are mistaken. Amongst our ranks are some of the best seers to grace the soil of Albion, and we have an entire arsenal of defenses. I fear your worries have fallen upon deaf ears."

Morgana shook her head vehemently. "You're the ones who are mistaken. My visions are never wrong. This will come to pass. I beg of you, don't cast aside my advice as nothing."

The leader seemed surprised by the desperate tone to her request. His face stiffened as he considered the possibility. Ultimately he relented, and the old man's eyes cleared as he spoke. "I will not deny that I hold reservations, but I will at least take extra measures as a precaution. I thank you for your presence and your show of good faith."

The man bowed deeply and Morgana returned the gesture. It wasn't exactly the reaction that she had been hoping for, but she supposed it would have to suffice. At least it wasn't a complete defeat.

Morgana smiled at the gathering of her kin and turned to Mordred once more. Pulling him into one last hold before her depature, she whispered, "Stay safe. I couldn't bear the thought of you getting hurt. Promise me you'll be careful."

Mordred muttered, "I promise."

Morgana chuckled at the exasperated edge to the young lad's tone as she offered one last squeeze.

With that, Morgana retreated to her horse, and after positioning herself astride it, allowed herself one more backward gaze before she departed. Back to the mighty walls of Camelot she went.

The ride back to Camelot was less than pleasant. Almost all the clouds had disappeared, and the heat of the sun was sweltering, which didn't help Morgana's mood. An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach and gnawed at her. Something sinister was making its way into the future and Morgana couldn't help but feel there was no avoiding what would come to pass.

She couldn't understand why the Druids were so flippant about her warning. The events surrounding her vision were too convenient to be a coincidence. Time flew as Morgana worked to connect the dots, and she was startled to find herself approaching the outer walls of Camelot.

Approaching the massive gate which had been suspiciously closed since her departure, Morgana was surprised to find it latched into its pens deep within the dirt. As it was the only thing keeping her from getting home, Morgana impatiently ground her teeth waiting for the attendants to raise the barrier. As the gate crept upwards, Morgana was filled with a surge of energy and bolted through the gap created between the gate and ground.

The wooden shacks and rugged clothing surrounding her changed into stack stone fortresses and silk garments as Morgana neared the castle. Once she was close to the castle steps Morgana hoisted herself off in a swift motion to see her next objective met. She left her horse to be tended to by one of the many servants floating through the spacious courtyard waiting for work. Taking the steps two at a time Morgana glanced up to the window she stared through so often. The curtains remained fastened together to ward off any sunlight, which meant Arthur was still asleep.

Ducking into servant's passageways and cutting corners Morgana managed to reach her quarters in what she thought of as record time. Even Arthur would have been envious of her efficiency- god knows he spent more time in her chambers than his own.

Morgana gently tugged the door open and murmured a noise dampening spell when shutting it. Expertly peeling off her chainmail Morgana was left in nothing but her shift and was faced with a dilemma.

On one hand exhaustion had taken to pulling her eyelids down, making sleep an easy option, but on the other she was coated in an uncomfortable film of sweat and dirt. The idea of sleeping and polluting a clean bed with her stench didn't sound too appealing, as she wasn't one to disregard hygiene- unlike many of Camelot's finest knights.

Seeing as Arthur was sleeping she didn't find the harm in bathing, and she fetched some water from a basin and splashed it into the tub.

Anxiety reared its ugly head once more as she was left with nothing to occupy her thoughts. The wave of worry was threatening to crush her as she removed her shift and climbed into the wash. The water proved to be soothing and managed to carry her worry away as she took care to descum her body.

Morgana dipped her head below the surface to retreat further into herself. The water swirled across her hair and she felt almost content. Little did she know her prince had been roused from his coma-like slumber in the adjoining room.

Arthur had heard multiple noises originating from the antechamber, but he shook his head to clear it, as he was still groggy. He wanted nothing more than to ignore it, but his instincts were usually right. He swiped his sword from the nightstand and threw the sheets off as he climbed out of bed. Arthur inched his way forward analyzing the situation as he went. He scolded himself for allowing a stranger to cross the threshold. Morgana was right, nothing could wake him. He cursed under his breath, if an intruder stole or broke anything he would never hear the end of it. Arthur was determined more than ever to catch the culprit as he didn't want to face Morgana's wrath. Carefully turning the corner to Morgana's innermost chamber, Arthur poised himself ready to strike when he saw something that left his sword crashing into the floor. Arthur squeaked, "Morgana!"

Before him was the last woman he expected- and in the bath, nonetheless. Morgana had been attempting to stand, but she shrieked at his intrusion, and in her frenzy, fell backwards. Arthur stood there with a gaping mouth and bulging eyes for quite some time until he had the decency to shield his eyes. Subsequently he felt as if he couldn't turn a deeper shade of red.

Morgana's continuous exclamations of unladylike language shook some sense into him as he turned around, albeit with difficulty. He shuffled back to the bed and trained his eyes on the floor, as he didn't trust them to look anywhere else.

Morgana had composed herself rather quickly, but humiliation left its mark on her cheeks. When the color drained enough, Morgana took a deep breath, and called out, "Arthur, I have nothing to change into over here, and it's getting quite chilly, so I would very much like to put on some clothes. If you can be trusted to keep your eyes closed, that is?"

Arthur didn't even trust himself, and he didn't feel like finding out how it felt to be thrown from a palace window. Keeping his best interests at heart, Arthur chose to leave.

Morgana smirked as she heard the gentle sound of a door closing. She knew him too well. She giggled in amusement as she robed herself.

Satisfied with the amount of time she had allocated for Arthur to sulk, Morgana donned a night gown and sought him out. Not waiting to knock or call out, Morgana entered to the sight of Arthur lying on his bed. He obviously fell asleep in a hurry as his covers remained undisturbed beneath his lying figure. Sprawled all over his desk were pieces of parchment boasting messy ink passages crossed out haphazardly. Morgana plucked a few from the surface and smiled to herself as she saw many variants of an apology letter. Morgana's heart thrummed against her chest at the thought of him caring enough to write a letter. The ones she liked best, she folded and stowed away into the overlaps of her dress to keep for later.

Gliding forward, Morgana knelt before Arthur and rustled the hair resting on his forehead. His eyes sprung open with a panicked delirium until they focused on her. Morgana purred, "Up you get. I hear Uther is expecting you in the council room for a briefing."

Arthur shot up from his position and frantically began collecting random articles of clothing and scribbled nonsense down on a lone pad of parchment. Morgana's hearty chuckles broke through Arthur's frenzy. He turned around and faced Morgana with a look of agitation. "There's no council meeting is there?" He already knew the answer but felt like inquiring anyway.

Still laughing, Morgana nodded with difficulty to contain her laughter.

"And may I ask why you felt the need to do this? Oh, let me guess- you like having me play the fool."

Morgana stopped nodding but continuing chuckling,"You deserved it."

Arthur covered his face in his hand and started for the door muttering to himself quite audibly. Morgana watched Arthur cross the floor and queried, "And where do you think you're going?"

Arthur looked at her with annoyance written on his face, "I'm going to make sure this isn't some elaborate ploy to embarrass me in front of my father and the entire council. I wouldn't put you above such schemes."

Morgana blew a stray hair from her chin with an exaggerated huff, "Believe it or not, I actually came here for a reason."

Arthur sensed what she was getting at and moved over to the bed, pulling her down along side him. "Besides waking me up, quite rudely I might add-" Arthur earned a sharp elbow in the side, "what do you need to talk about?"

"You didn't mind when I woke you up the first time," she deflected.

"Morgana," he chastised, the blush creeping through despite his determination.

Morgana stayed silent, and he searched her face. He knew she must have gone to look for the boy last night. "This must have to do with Mordred, I assume you went to look for him?" At her guilty look, he sighed, "What happened?"

Morgana swallowed hard and turned to look at Arthur. "I went to warn them, but something was wrong, they didn't seem wary in the slightest."

Arthur sat and listened intently. He worked Morgana's words through his brain and considered what could have happened. Clearly she had taken a risk despite his warning, but he figured he wasn't one to pass judgement when it came to making reckless decisions.

"I guess I just don't understand how with all of their powerful seers, none of them saw what I did. It doesn't make sense. What do you think?"

Those were the words Arthur was dreading. He didn't want the responsibility of quelling Morgana's unease, it was a heavy task. Inhaling deeply, Arthur responded, "I truly don't know, perhaps you saw this vision for a reason, or maybe they really aren't as powerful as they say. But what I do know is that I believe in you and your magic; your visions have kept me out of many sticky situations before. Relax, I'm sure it will all work out."

Arthur's consideration caused Morgana to grin slightly. Although his words did little to make her feel better, she was still thankful for him. "Arthur, have I told you I love you?"

"Once or twice." He smiled mischievously.

"Well, I suppose one more time couldn't hurt. I do love you, Arthur Pendragon, and I wouldn't have any other at my side."

The following silence was comfortable, and it allowed for Morgana's words to play over again in Arthur's mind. He couldn't help but remember the thoughts he had over a year ago, before Morgana had disappeared, and whether or not she'd be willing to take the next step. Images of Morgana accented in white with a bouquet in hand motivated his next question. Before he could broach the rather frightening topic, Arthur was interrupted by his door being thrown open, followed by the entrance of a knight.

"My lord, the King demands your presence. It seems we have finally located the Druids that we've been searching for."

Following the guards abrupt exit, Arthur and Morgana exchanged glances screaming a million emotions. The world loved to prove him wrong.

At the news, Morgana rushed towards the door, and Arthur barely caught her in time before she could send the throne room crashing down. Using her own momentum against her, Arthur swung Morgana back into his room.

While Morgana brushed herself off, Arthur made quick work with securing the door. Clasping Morgana by the shoulders, Arthur led her to a chair and watched her sit down, glaring at him all the while.

"What was that?"

Releasing an exasperated sigh, he responded, "That was me saving your skin, and you're welcome by the way!"

Morgana gave a hearty huff. "You want me to thank you, when every moment we're here, the Druids are closer to being killed. These are innocent people- my people, and they need help!"

"Of course I know that Morgana, but if it's a choice between you and them, you know what my choice would be."

Morgana's angry frown softened as she relaxed her shoulders. "Arthur, you don't understand. This is my fault. If I hadn't lied to Uther, if I hadn't give him reason..." Tears escaped from her eyes as she swallowed against the lump in her throat. "I led him right to them." With a choked sob, she buried her head into her hands.

Arthur knelt down and encircled Morgana's wrists, pulling her hands from her face. Lifting his right hand to wipe away her tears, he spoke gently, "Morgana, look at me." When she refused to comply, Arthur took both sides of her face in his hands and forced her eyes to meet his. "I know you, Morgana. You're kind and compassionate, and you would do anything for those you love. This was an accident, and it's no one's fault, do you understand?"

She looked away briefly and the wounded look in her eyes receded to show a layer of resolve. "No one except perhaps Uther."

Arthur's jaw clenched, but he nodded in silent agreement. "I'll do everything I can to stop him, but you have to stay out of it. I can't risk you doing anything foolish."

Morgana was about to protest, but Arthur was up and unlocking the door before she could argue further.

He came back and took her hand, lifting her from the chair. Arthur led the way to Morgana's chambers, pulling her along behind him.

As they entered, Gwen stopped her chores, looking up knowingly. "Is something the matter?"

"Gwen, would you mind looking after Morgana for me?" Arthur asked.

Morgana huffed. "Please, Arthur, this is ridiculous."

Arthur ignored her, looking back to Gwen. "She is not to leave this room under any circumstance."

Gwen smiled nervously and Morgana snorted in disgust.

Arthur turned to Morgana. "I'm serious, Morgana. Stay put." He kissed the top of her head before abruptly exiting the room.

Morgana flopped down dramatically on her bed. "He is utterly impossible! Why do I put up with him?"

Gwen savored a slight grin, "Now that is something I've been asking myself for ages milady, though to be fair you aren't always low maintenance yourself."

"Gwen!" Morgana half shouted and spluttered out.

Gwen laughed to herself as Morgana continued to pout.

Arthur entered the throne room guided by a sense of purpose. While Uther sat on his throne ready for anything, as he had anticipated Arthur's dramatic entrance. It was clear that Morgana's influence on Arthur was worsening, which only fueled his suspicions. His son's eyes were hard, but it was clear that beneath that, Arthur was frightened for what was to happen next.

He stopped abruptly in front of his father and tilted his head in a respectful fashion. "Father, you wished to see me?"

"Yes, I have good news, Arthur. Your men successfully located and secured a Druid camp early this morning." He smiled, though his eyes flashed with an unspoken taunt. "You should be proud, you've trained them well."

"Of course, father. Though I do wonder why they were sent without my permission? I recall the men were mine to command, were they not?" Arthur challenged, knowing full well the game Uther was playing.

Uther's smile had vanished, his jaw muscles now clenching as his temper rose. "They may be under your command, but as I am their King, I can use them how I see fit. You'd do well to remember that."

"And the fate of the captured Druids? Am I allowed to know that, or did you simply bring me here to gloat?"

Uther noted that Arthur was obviously peering past him, as if searching for the captives in plain sight. "They'll be dealt with accordingly, there's no need to concern yourself. It's a rather beautiful day isn't it; why don't you take a ride with the Lady Morgana?" The way Uther forced out the last word like bile made Arthur's muscles spasm.

"Father, the lady is quite tired today and has expressed her desire to remain undisturbed. As for the Druids, they are my concern, as it is my duty as crown prince to ensure the safety of my people."

Uther grew noticeably agitated as Arthur kept pressing, although he found it quite comical that Morgana wasn't the one objecting in front of him. Ignoring his son's further explanations, Uther waved his hand effectively cutting off Arthur's ramblings. "To answer your question, the Druids are known enemies of Camelot, due to their utter disregard of our laws. They would see us cut down if given the chance, therefore, I have no choice but to sentence them to death."

"Father, don't you think that a show of mercy might-"

"Their verdict has already been delivered, mercy has no place when it comes to those who practice magic. Now please offer my sincerest wishes of health to the Lady Morgana."

Arthur opened his mouth to object, but the finality in his father's voice was enough to stop him short. He bowed once more and turned on his heel to leave, feeling disheartened.

Arthur unconsciously led himself to Gaius's home in search of Merlin. As Arthur entered without knocking or any sign of notice, Merlin dropped several glasses of liquid.

Merlin must have had his back turned to the door, as he jumped again when he saw who the intruder was. "Sire, what can I do for you? Are you in need of a target dummy, or a nice fellow to beat up on? Because I think I just saw Leon a short while ago, shall I go fetch him for you?"

Arthur shook his head, "Merlin cut the act. Morgana needs our help, and we don't have much time."

Merlin's insides twisted, and he felt instantly ill. "Arthur, what is going on?"

"My father has managed to round up the Druids and has already called for their execution; if I could tell anything from the sense of triumph he let off, he isn't too keen on waiting long."

Merlin swallowed heavily. "How is Morgana taking this?"

From the substantial silence that Arthur allowed to pass, Merlin discerned that she wasn't taking it too well at all. Arthur finally sighed, "I managed to lock her into her room, and Gwen is supervising her, so we may be able to contain her for another hour at best."

Merlin took a second, thinking about the consequences of following this path. He would do most anything that Arthur wished, but where Morgana was concerned, the choices weren't always the safest. Arthur seemed determined to go to the ends of the earth to make her happy, however, so Merlin didn't have much a choice. "I suppose then we have no time to lose."

After several failed attempts to convince the guards that King Uther had taken to wearing a dress, Merlin and Arthur decided they needed a new plan.

Merlin was assigned the role of the distraction, as Arthur was to pull off the escape. After Merlin ran off hollering something about dragons having eaten the king and half the kingdom, Arthur made his way to the dungeons. His confidence was solidified as a sea of guards ran after the servant failing to hold back laughter. Arriving at the section of the prison cordoned off for the Druids, Arthur made for the one housing Mordred. As he looked to pull the keys from his pocket, he found they weren't where he had put them. Instead he was greeted by his father with the keys dangling from his gloved hand.

Morgana's eyes were brimming with tears as an immense pyre was set up beneath her window. Her stomach lurched, and Gwen was there immediately to comfort her. The soothing circles Gwen drew into Morgana's back did nothing to assuage her guilt and horror. Morgana tried to be strong, but the numbness she was accustomed to relying on was gone, leaving her raw. She sobbed, the cries coming from her throat almost inhuman.

Gwen pulled her into her arms. Morgana felt completely drained, and yet she felt like bursting. She couldn't stop thinking about all the ways she went wrong- the lies she told that condemned these people, her reckless rescue mission that led the guards straight to the camp. Accompanied by gasping breaths, Morgana confessed, "Gwen... this is all my fault. The Druids did nothing wrong. They never healed me, no one did. It was all a lie."

Making shushing noises, Gwen tried to stop her. "It's not your fault, Morgana. You don't have to-"

Hiccuping, Morgana shook her head sharply, pulling back from Gwen's hold. She was tired of lying, especially to the people she cared about the most. "No, I should be..." She took a steadying breath. "It was me. I healed myself." On a sob, she admitted, "I have magic, Gwen."

Gwen nodded tearfully, her face unchanged by the revelation. She brushed her hand along Morgana's hair soothingly. "I know. I've known for a long time."

Morgana's eyes snapped up to meet Gwen's, finding nothing but sympathy in the other girl's gaze. Upon seeing Gwen's sad smile, she collapsed back into her friend's arms.

Morgana's eyes were hollow as she stared out at the square. She should be doing something, but she was forced to sit and watch, knowing that despite his attempts, Arthur would not be successful. The executions were to begin in just a few minutes. The vision of Druids lined up in chains made her knees buckle and her resolve fade.

When the fanfare died down, and Uther had fully risen to his feet, he began to speak. "For decades this noble land had made it a goal to bring justice to the realm. Sorcery is an evil that we have fought for too long, and those who practice magic must be brought to justice. These Druids may claim to use magic for healing alone, but they defy our laws, and cannot be trusted. The law stands, and the penalty for those who practice magic is death. Let the executions begin."

As Uther ceased to speak, Morgana turned to observe the first victim. Mordred was being dragged onto the platform, the guards roughly tying him to the pyre. He was propped up like a trophy with his arms and legs bound onto the crude angles of the post. The flames were lit, and the wood crackled as the fire started to spread. As Morgana turned away from Mordred's trembling figure, cries begging for mercy sprouted into her head, and it forced her eyes open, despite her attempts to look away. Mordred was burning alive, and his last try at seeking salvation rung in her ears. A ripple of pent up fury and remorse wove its way through Morgana's body, and she could no longer stand it. She screamed, the force of her wail causing the whole castle to shake. Her eyes flashed gold, and fractures appeared across the courtyard beneath her feet. As she continued to scream, the walls started to crumble, and the square erupted into chaos. The people started running in every direction, the execution long forgotten.

Uther's eyes widened as he turned his head erratically to find the source of the sound. When his eyes fell on Morgana's fuming figure at her window, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Arthur knew without looking what had happened; he felt her fear in every wave. He put aside his worry, knowing that this was the distraction he needed to free the boy. Quickly, he pushed through the hordes and raced over to the pyre. Throwing a cloak down on the flames, he tore Mordred away from the pyre and fled to the safety of the crowd. If it hadn't happened already, Arthur knew all hell was to break loose.

Morgana burst into the throne room, ignoring the risks and damning Arthur's wishes for her to stay uninvolved. "You're still going to kill them, I suppose?"

Uther shook his head, chuckling to himself. "That display in the square only solidifies their guilt, Morgana."

"You would kill those who helped me? If that is their crime, then should we condemn all those who seek to heal us? I guess we should add Gaius to the processions, as well."

"Morgana," Uther snapped, clearly unamused.

Morgana took a calming breath, trying for another tactic as she pleaded, "If you ever bore any love for me at all, you won't do this."

"They used magic, Morgana, your feelings don't play a part in this." He rounded on her, glaring. "I will not change my mind about this. Their sentence stands."

Morgana bit down on the inside of her lip, breathing through her nose as her temper rose. "What if I told you they didn't heal me? That no one did?"

Uther shook his head, making a noise of derision as he dismissed her attempts. "Go back to your chambers. The executions will continue as planned."

"I will not let you do this." There was pure malice in her words, and she stood her ground as Uther encroached her personal space.

Pretenses long forgotten, Uther angrily returned, "I warned you before, if you crossed me again, it would be the last- no matter what I promised your father."

Morgana shuffled backwards as the gravity of the King's words settled around her. "My father truly made a mistake in trusting you to keep me safe. How ironic to think that my protector would be the one with the power to sentence me to death. Why stop now, when you can claim us all? My father, mother, and now me. You are what the people should fear, not the druids. Kill me if that will satisfy your bloodlust, but I will not sit by and let you do further harm."

Arthur peered around a corner, and to his delight found no guards, or servants. Fortunately, the absence of any witnesses would allow for him to reconvene with Morgana to strategize. He couldn't wait to see the look on her face when he entered her room, with the fruits of his efforts laid out right in front of her. He hoped that rescuing Mordred might persuade Morgana to forget his past transgressions- ones that she found so fun to dangle over his head; at least temporarily. Checking to make sure that his charge was still behind him, he turned to skirt the corner. After motioning for Mordred to be silent, Arthur made it a few steps before he went crashing into a blur of golden and blue fabric. Managing to steady himself on the wall, the maid he ran into wasn't so lucky. He knelt down to help her up, but found it to be Guinevere. He felt like someone had shoved a lance pole down his throat. "Ah, Guinevere, I am so sorry. I didn't see you there. Are you alright?"

"Really, you didn't see me, huh?" She quirked an eyebrow at him, and continued, "Never mind that, why are you in such a rush?"

Arthur's gusto returned immediately, "I am on my way to share my victory with Morgana. This should excuse me from any further mishaps for a minimum of two months. Let's hope. Is she still in her room?"

"Arthur, I was just coming to find you. I'm sorry, but Morgana- she's not in her chambers. The entire castle was shaking, and I was so disorientated... She must have slipped out when I wasn't looking."

Arthur's eyes widened as fear began to balloon inside him.

"We have to find her. If I know her at all, I fear what she may do will result in more harm then good."

"What do you mean?"

Gwen gulped as if she wasn't sure that she should be divulging what she had learned. Hesistantly, she started, "Arthur, she told me that she..."

Sighing heavily, he nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I know." He set his hand lightly on Guinevere's arm. "It's going to be alright."

From behind Arthur, Gwen caught sight of a pair of familiar bright blue eyes. "Is that the Druid boy that was supposed to be executed? Why is he with you?"

Arthur shrugged, wordlessly conveying his reasons with a smirk.

Nervous, Gwen bit her lip. "Arthur-"

Arthur smiled and shoved Mordred towards Guinevere. "I know I can trust you to take care of him. I'm sorry, Guinevere, there is no time to explain any further, I have to find Morgana."

Gwen tucked the boy under her arm, nodding in agreement. "Go, we'll be fine."

Arthur took off in a sprint towards the throne room.

The colors in Uther's already bleak eyes shriveled up and died at the mention of Morgana's family, leaving only blackness staring back at her.

Morgana's shoulder blades involuntarily shook. Something inside of her had been deeply disturbed, but she refused to let it show.

"Your mother practiced magic, and she conspired to turn your father against me, just as you seek to do with my own son. I did not kill her, but I would feel no remorse if I had. I will make an example of you if I must, and perhaps then Arthur will finally be free of your poisonous influence."

The mention of Arthur was like a slap to the face. "You have no right to speak of my mother. You took her from me; you destroyed my family in your attempt to rectify your own mistakes. Now as you continue to justify your actions, I can see the façade slipping. You have fallen too far, and you know it."

"You will hold your tongue." Uther bellowed.

He flew at her with startling speed, and Morgana barely managed to pivot out of the way as he charged at her. Uther recovered, taking ahold of her arm and yanking her towards him. The feeling of nausea was instantaneous, and the throne room before her muddled into a series of disjointed lines. As her vision slowly returned, his hand reached for her throat. Fingers started to wrap around her neck, and Morgana was reminded of a familiar experience, the memory filling her with rage.

In a reflexive action, Morgana threw her hand up to stop him, refusing to allow him to touch her.

Uther suddenly flew off of her, and he hit the floor reeling. Morgana's hand was still crackling from the force of the magic, and her eyes were a faint golden color as the king looked up at her. "I knew it," he hissed.

Morgana stumbled back, still in a daze.

Uther remained on the floor, staring up at her with hatred in his eyes. "I should've seen it sooner. You're wicked, just like your mother and your sister. I had so hoped you'd be different."

His acknowledgment of Morgause caused Morgana to snap back into focus, her anger returning. She lifted her hand once more, but before she could do anything further, a detail of guards burst into the throne room due to the commotion.

Uther recovered faster than her, and was ordering his soldiers to apprehend Morgana before she could defend herself.

A fateful glance back at the throne room door showed Arthur breaking through the wooden barriers and surveying the scene for the devastation he had expected. Any words of protest Morgana had were swallowed by the rough interruption of two guards grabbing her on either side.

Arthur moved to confront the guards, but two others were waiting in the wings for this very reaction. "What is the meaning of this?"

Uther struggled to his feet. "She attacked me, by the use of magic. She is to be put to death."

"No!" Arthur shouted.

Morgana struggled to rip free of the guards, but her efforts were in vain.

Arthur was of the same mind as her as he thrashed against the human blockade, trying helplessly to stop the guards. "Let me go, you cannot take her!" He knocked one of the men out of his way, pushing through to where Morgana was being dragged backwards. "Morgana, I will not let them do this!" he promised as he grabbed for her hand.

Uther stood to his full height, waving in more guards. "Restrain him."

Arthur was yanked back, his fingers ripped away from Morgana's touch. He continued to yell, still kicking and fighting the guards holding him. "No! Morgana!" He pulled free long enough to lean in and kiss her, whispering desperate proclamations of love against her lips. A swift blow to the ribs subdued him, and Morgana was pulled back.

The guards retreated towards the open doors with their prisoner in tow, and Morgana took one last look at Uther. His eyes softened a fraction of a second, and his face grew slack, but after years of perfecting his mask, Uther was fast enough that nobody else caught his momentary lapse of guilt.

As the doors closed, Arthur finally broke free and made his way over to his father. He pointed his finger accusingly at his King, as if it were a drawn blade.

"You cannot do this! Whatever happened, I'm sure it was self defense!"

"She is guilty, I have more than enough evidence against her," Uther replied.

Arthur nearly shook from the wave of emotions choking him. "This isn't right; please, father. I love her."

Uther chuckled, touching his son's cheek in a patronizing motion. "My son, she has truly buried your senses so deep. Don't worry, her enchantment will be lifted once she is dead."

"Enchantment?" Arthur lunged for his father, but was once again halted by the guards loyal to his father. "She hasn't enchanted me, father. Please, I'm begging you. Let her go."

The guards kicked Arthur's knee out from under him, and he was brought to a kneeling position. Uther smiled sadly above him. "It seems terrible now, but you'll be free of her soon enough. You'll see."

"I will never forgive you for this," Arthur vowed, venom seeping through his words. "Never." The thought of losing Morgana drove him mad, and he again attempted to charge at his father, pushing himself up from his knees.

This time, the guards were better prepared, and they hauled him off, remanding him to his chambers.

Arthur was shoved into his chambers and the doors slammed shut before he had a chance to react. He began pacing agitatedly and grit his teeth so hard the resulting force and a momentary lapse in aim rendered him with a bloodied cheek. He needed Morgana to talk sense to him, but she wasn't here and if his father had it his way, she would never be here to reprimand him again. He would give anything to get her back. She was a part of him, and he couldn't lose her again. They were finally happy again, but now yet another obstacle was set before them. Another war to win.

Arthur charged the doors and threw himself at them. Once, twice, three times. He had lost count. Any associated pain that bloomed within his shoulder, he paid no heed. He had to do something, if only these damn doors would budge. He just wanted her back. That wasn't a crime, and yet he was being kept against his will, kept company only by the crushing anxiety and resentment that heaved in his chest. It became too much, and Arthur collapsed. He slid down the door, fibers of his shirt getting caught on the stray splinters of wood. At this point he was numb to everything. He wasn't surprised when he started sobbing.

Everything had grown dark again and he didn't know what to do this time around. Lost in the noise of his sputters of breath, he didn't hear someone enter the room. Abandoning all reason, his heart jumped for a minute because just maybe she had come back, but it was only Merlin.

Merlin was carrying a tray full of unidentifiable food, and he was genuinely startled when he heard Arthur's cries. He immediately discarded the dinner ware and knelt down to settle Arthur's arm around his shoulder. He heaved upwards and almost fell backwards as he was met with opposition from Arthur, who seemed keen on staying on the floor. Merlin raised an eyebrow at him. "Up you get."

Arthur just grunted in response and supported his own weight again as he stood up reluctantly.

Merlin led Arthur to the nearest chair and plopped him into the cloth haven. After making sure that Arthur was not on the verge of another breakdown, he returned to what he carried originally and made himself useful by pouring Arthur a glass of water.

Arthur just waved Merlin off and glared at him.

"What? Don't give me that look."

Arthur groaned and threw a pillow at Merlin. "Now is not the time."

Merlin cringed at the lack of emotion in Arthur's voice. He sighed heavily and knelt before Arthur. "I'm sorry Arthur. I can't imagine what you're going through."

"Just leave me be, Merlin."

Merlin resisted the urge to smack the prince. He knew that Arthur's tenuous grip on sanity would be destroyed if Morgana was taken from him for good. After two close calls, the third time may be the charm, and Merlin dreaded what it would do to the kingdom. Uther truly didn't realize how much Arthur needed Morgana. His love for her was more than a simple passing fancy, and the thought of them being parted terrified Merlin. "Arthur..." he began, the words sticking in his throat. "Perhaps I can help."

Arthur scoffed derisively. "What can you do, Merlin?" God knows he had gotten Arthur out of several fatal situations before, but Arthur found himself apprehensive to ask his bumbling servant for help, despite the niggling feeling that there was more to Merlin than what meets the eye.

Merlin bit down on his tongue, steeling himself. "More than you think."

Arthur was a bit startled by that, expecting Merlin to make a joke as usual when confronted with this sort of thing.

Maybe it was time to tell Arthur the truth. After today it was likely that nothing was to be the same ever again, and if Morgana's life was at stake, Merlin had no other option than to be completely honest with Arthur. Taking a deep breath, Merlin uttered, "I'm more than just a servant."

Arthur grabbed Merlin's shoulder in a friendly gesture. "Yes, I know, but I doubt your ability to talk to dragons will get us out of this one."

Merlin shook his head. "Arthur... I," he struggled for a moment, gasping as the weight of what he was doing hit him. "It's more than that." He'd kept this hidden for so long, and the thought of finally saying it out loud terrified him. He had imagined it a million times, a million different ways, but there was no time for that anymore. If Morgana was going to die, this was the moment, whether he wanted it to be or not. Swallowing against the dryness in his throat, Merlin rasped, his voice thick with emotion, "I have magic."

Arthur dropped his hand, the realization not fully registering with him. "Don't be ridiculous, Merlin."

Frustrated by Arthur's stubbornness, Merlin huffed angrily. They didn't have time for this. Whispering a spell under his breath, Merlin conjured a flame in his open palm.

Time seemed to slow as Arthur turned around, the gaze on his face betraying the stoic visage he was desperately working to maintain. Arthur's features were contorted angles frozen in place by the betrayal he felt.

Merlin had only seen this twice before. The typical jubilance that sparkled in Arthur's eyes had melted away and left him adrift, his feelings muddled. Merlin rose to his feet, extinguishing the flame as he clenched his fist closed.

Arthur managed to compose himself, and with one blink his shields were back up. "You lied to me. All this time."

"I didn't want to," Merlin replied, half sobbing the words.

Arthur stood as Merlin backed away. "You were my friend, and you lied to me."

Merlin flinched, muttering sorrowfully. "I still am your friend."

Arthur recoiled. "Friends don't lie to each other for years, and that is exactly what you did. Nothing you say is going to fix that."

Merlin stature slumped as his hopes of reconciliation faded away. Arthur had struggled to come to terms with Morgana's magic, and she hadn't kept it from him for nearly as long. But he had really hoped that Arthur would accept him. "I understand. Hate me if you wish, but you asked me what I can do, and I know of a way that we can help Morgana."

Arthur swallowed down his confusion and hurt, recognizing that there was more at stake than his feelings. He begrudgingly asked, "What's your plan?"

Merlin explained, "I will wait until the execution and I can conjure an illusion to mask our escape. If it goes wrong, I am truly sorry."

"Don't waste time apologizing, just take her and don't look back. You run like hell, Merlin."

Merlin gave Arthur a weak smile, and dipped his head in agreement. With no final farewell, Merlin's wispy silhouette melted through the doorway.

Down in the dungeons, Gwen was attempting to see Morgana. "Let me through. Morgana at least deserves a last meal," Gwen exclaimed.

Her voice might have well been a whisper on the breeze, for it fell on deaf ears. These guards had known Morgana for years and they were treating her like an animal. Gwen thought of all the times Morgana rallied for the knights, even risked her life for them out of the goodness of her heart; all of that was for naught. They were so blindly loyal to Uther that they were willing to exchange their vows for the affection of a misguided king. Though she knew of at least one knight who could help her, and would help her. Not all was lost.

"I demand to speak with Sir Leon. Unlike the rest of you, he knows what honor is."

The guards exchanged annoyed glances and managed to agree on the same course of action. One called out, "This doesn't concern you. Why don't you go back upstairs and sew some dresses?"

Guinevere's fair and delicate face snapped into one of disgust; she curtsied and made to turn around in order to scale the stairs. As they returned to their game of dice, Gwen tipped her tray just enough for its contents to dump onto the heads of the three men. The guards jumped out of their seats, disgusted. Gwen hoisted the tray above her head to defend herself, but before she could do further damage, Leon appeared at the top of the steps with his usual bright smile.

"Am I too late to the party?"

Gwen beamed, "You are right on time."

"Well that is always good to hear. I am here to answer your call, milady. Although I do beg that you reconsider clumping my guards' round the head, they aren't all that bright to begin with." Leon chuckled lightly at his lame jest, and Gwen ran to hug him. He picked her up and twirled her around. "You go see Morgana, I will deal with these three."

"Thank you." Gwen smiled once more and squeezed a little tighter before hurrying to Morgana's cell.

Morgana was curled up on the floor, shaking in the chill of the dungeon.

Gwen rushed to the cell door and dropped to her knees. "Morgana... Morgana, wake up."

Morgana lifted herself from the fetal position rather slowly and her eyes scrunched up as if they never expected to see a familiar face again. "Oh Gwen, what are you doing here? It's too dangerous. If Uther finds you, you will be tried as conspiring with a sorceress."

Gwen cried a little bit at those words. "If spending time with my closest friend is a crime in this kingdom, than so be it. I will not leave you alone."

Morgana's eyes stung as tears started to build. She reached for Gwen's fingers, covering them where they rested on the bars.

"The druid boy is safe. I helped him escape to the woods," Gwen whispered.

Morgana produced a watery smile. "At least I'm dying for something, then."

Crying, Gwen's hand shook under Morgana's hold. "Morgana, I can't lose you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Morgana wiped a tear from Gwen's face. "You'll be alright. You have your brother, and your friends. And Arthur will take care of you, I'm sure of it. You are the strongest person I know, Gwen."

"We'll find a way to save you," Gwen stated, with more confidence then she actually felt.

Shaking her head, Morgana sighed. "This was only a matter of time. I should've listened to Morgause... but I'm glad I came back, even if it was only temporary. You and Arthur have made my life worth living."

"No, Morgana, don't talk like that."

Ignoring Gwen's pleas, Morgana asked, "I need you to do something for me."

Gwen almost choked on the resulting sobs, "Anything, Morgana."

"Take care of Arthur for me? He's going to blame himself, and I can't bear the thought of his suffering. Promise to watch out for him, and make him happy. Please."

Gwen nodded, but she couldn't swallow the lump in her throat, "I promise. I'd do anything for you, Morgana."

Morgana squeezed once more and let her go. "And I you, Gwen. Now go, it looks like your knight in shining armor awaits."

Gwen started crying once more, and Morgana had to look away in order to stop her tears.

Nodding to the dutiful knight, Morgana requested, "Take good care of her, Leon."

Leon nodded sadly, "Always, my lady."

Leon and Morgana shared a momentary glance of unspoken words, an exchange of thanks and goodbyes, and when their gazes broke, Leon shuttled Gwen away from Morgana's cell.

The sun had never been such an unwelcome sight before. The light forced its way into Morgana's eyes and she sat up as her cell door was wrenched open, revealing the men sent to collect her. They wordlessly forced her to her feet, roughly pulling on her arms. It was upsetting, but not unsurprising- after all, she was just a witch. They shoved her out of the cell and began the walk to the pyre.

Meanwhile, Merlin's senses were nearly shutting down. The corners of his sight faded away into a dark oblivion and every sound he heard was muffled. He had stayed up all evening searching for a spell or potion to help Morgana. When he was near giving up, he found an incantation in his personal tome of magic that could be the key to her salvation. Once the bells rang signaling the soon to be execution, Merlin swiped a worn and frayed auburn tunic from his bedpost and ran through the workshop. He thought to himself that it was time for Dragoon the Great to make an appearance.

The guards cuffed Morgana's hands above her head. The early sunshine was unusually warm, blistering her wrists on the iron and setting her shift to unbearable temperatures. Morgana become lost in a heat induced daze, she would have asked for water, but it was her execution after all. The mass of heads in the crowd gathering before her shifted and flexed like waves lapping against the shore, and they all blurred together to form a hideous mosaic. The one person who stood out of the crowd was Uther, elevated on his balcony. He began to speak, but Morgana didn't pay any attention.

Uther shook his head as if to knock the reservations out of his brain. He cleared his throat, and gathered his thoughts until the fanfare died down. "Today is a day I never thought would come. I never imagined it possible, but the Lady Morgana has been found guilty of treason, by means of using spells and enchantments."

Multiple people in the crowd gasped, but Morgana had blocked out the noise.

"Sorcery must be eradicated, no matter who the perpetrator may be. I have sworn to uphold these laws, and I have no alternative but to cleanse this land, despite the pain it might bring. I truly am sorry, Morgana, but I have no choice." Uther waited a fleeting moment, and then slashed his arm through the air. Once it reached the end of its journey, the executioners shoved the torches downward and the flames set upon the wood and Morgana.

The heat Morgana was feeling now was worse than she had imagined. She could feel the plumes of smoke circle her feet, slowly. It wasn't long until the heat began to creep up to her ankles. Morgana writhed and screamed, more out of fury than pain, her survival instincts suddenly awakened.

Arthur was determined to watch the entire thing from where he was trapped in his room, waiting for the moment that Merlin made good on his vow, but the first cry that sprung from Morgana's lips flew him into a frenzy. He clutched his sword and attacked anything within arm's reach, demolishing his own belongings.

The cries only grew worse, until they stopped momentarily, and Arthur against his own volition dropped his weapon and ran to the open window. Morgana was frozen. Time seemed to halt, the breath was stolen from his lungs. The effect dwindled some and he was met with one final image of Morgana, the lower portion of her engulfed by fire. A decrepit and withered old man jumped onto the platform and ran to undo Morgana's binds, yet Uther and the others in the square appeared not to notice.

Amazingly the flames seemed repelled by the old man, as if he was devoid of oxygen. No fuel to burn. Morgana fell into the man's arms once she was free, and she collapsed, completely limp. She must have passed out from the smoke. The old man turned to Arthur and winked. In a flash the man and Morgana were gone. The fire engulfed both of their forms, and the stench of singed flesh permeated the air. Arthur jammed his nose behind the fabric of his sleeve and stood there rooted to that place. She was gone.

Uther was insufferably pleased with himself, and as a result, Arthur refused any visitors, even going to the length of shoving a chest in front of his door to keep himself secluded from prying eyes. The only thought that he allowed himself to think was, "she is gone." He refused to think beyond that, the unknowing, the possibility of death, it was too much for him to think about.

The only shred of understanding he had left, was that his father had done this to him. He had taken away the two most important women in his life away without even batting an eye. And Arthur wasn't going to rest until he found a way to repay that favor. Morgana was right all along; things would be better without Uther. If only he had listened to her when he had the chance.

Looking out his window over the kingdom, he vowed, "If it's the last thing I do, I will make things right, 'Gana. I swear it."