We do not know where we are until we can truly see where we've been

A dragon rears up, its head rolling around on its long neck in anger and frustration.

"Merlin," it roared.

She woke up with a gasp and then settled back into her pillow. He eyes scanned the room. No fire. Thank the Gods. It had become her greatest fear; the nightmare, the rude awakening, the blazing inferno of her bedchamber; the accusations and recriminations, the rejection of those she cared about, the blazing inferno that was her pyre.

She looked out into the darkness beyond her window, trying to gauge the time since she had fallen asleep; since Merlin had left her chambers.

"I'm glad you're back," he'd said and he had meant it. She'd looked into his eyes and seen nothing but genuine concern; despite who she was, what she was. Despite even the stubborn decision that had led to so many deaths.

"I'm glad you're back."

With those words, she had looked anew and seen an anchor in a high tide, a port in a violent storm.

She'd had that dream about the dragon before, she realised. After Arthur was cured of the bite of the Questing Beast. She had thought little of it; a confused nightmare. It was Merlin, for God's sake. She doubted a dragon would cry his name in anger.

And yet. She casts her mind back; the events of the last year unfolding in her mind.


With a dull thunk and several uncoordinated blows, the head finally tore from the neck and fell into the basket below.

The executioner matter-of-factly moved on to his next job and the ugly crowd cheered. The Lady Morgana, her long black hair unbound and streaming down past her silk-clad shoulders, averted her gaze sadly then felt her eyes drawn back to the scene below her.

Why, she wondered, did she not ask Uther to move her chambers so she could not see the courtyard; could not see this carnage? She looked out on the seething mass of dreadful humanity below her, glorying in the spectacle, and shuddered.

This man had been a guard; a former soldier from Uther's many wars who had been injured. He had turned to sorcery in desperation; the festering wound leaving him unable to work and feed his family.

The witch had been very good at her healing craft. Too good. His injury had healed quickly and completely and people had noticed. When told the man's plight in court, Uther had pointed out that feeding your family is much more difficult when you're dead. The powerless man had been executed as an example and the warning to all was very clear.

Morgana's grey-green eyes swept the crowd and she wondered for one moment if there were any there who felt as she did. She saw a vaguely-familiar black-haired boy hovering at the edge of the crowd; his face as haunted by the spectacle as hers undoubtedly was.

"Gwen," she said, raising her voice so her handmaiden could hear her from the other room.

"Yes, My Lady," answered the dusky-skinned woman as she came into the room and joined her mistress at the window.

"That boy over there," and she pointed him out in the crowd, "the tall, very skinny one with big ears."

"Merlin, My Lady," said Gwen, pre-empting her mistresses' question, "he's Arthur's new manservant. The one who..."

"...saved Arthur from Mary Collins at the feast a few weeks ago," finished Morgana, remembering the strange sleep that had overcome them when the woman had begun to sing and the heroic rescue of the Prince from her blade.

"What do you know about him?" Morgana asked.

To her surprise, Gwen flushed slightly and she wondered if the boy had captured the maid's affections.

"Not much, My Lady. He's from a small village outside of Uther's kingdom. Gaius, the court physician, is his uncle... no, his mother's uncle... and she sent him to Camelot to live with him. He arrived less than a month ago. I believe she felt the village was too small for him."

"Since he saved the Prince's life, it's likely she was right," noted Morgana.

She sighed, thinking that she did not have a confidant to talk to about these things; her hatred of the executions, her fear that Uther would turn on her one day.

"It's a shame really," she said softly, almost as though she were talking to herself.

"What do you mean," asked Gwen, momentarily confused.

The Lady shrugged and turned away from the window.

"He's just a servant," she replied, indifferently.


She walked to see Gaius, her mind rifling through the events one after the other; trying to make some sense of them. She'd dreamed of Arthur's death and he was still alive. The loathsome Sophia and her father were gone. Arthur said he couldn't remember but that he'd apparently eloped with her and Merlin had brought him back.

It didn't make any sense, she concluded, as she prepared to step through the threshold into the physician's rooms. She would pretend to thank them but was really there to see if what she suspected was true.

Gaius had said he would get someone who could help. That could hardly have been Merlin. He was brave, yes, sincere, kind and romantic. But a peasant and a servant and he could not have helped. She smiled slightly, she wouldn't however have put it past the heroic fool to try.

So, then, Gaius and Merlin had lied to protect the one who had really saved Arthur. And why would they do that? Because he was a sorcerer. It was the only explanation. That meant they knew and still protected him. That meant they could be trusted.


She dismissed his servant, vaguely noticing that it was not the tall boy Gwen had told her was named Merlin, and walked over to help him with his armour.

She ran her hands down his breastplate, tightening straps and ensuring it fit properly. Her father had been tall and strong like Arthur but dark-haired like herself. She was nonetheless filled with a sudden fierce urge to have his arms around her; as her father would have thrown his arms around her. It is strange for her; this need to be protected.

She forced it down brutally inside her. If he was King and she became Queen, as the gossips whispered she would, then she would be in control. Men had power over every aspect of her life except this small spark inside of her. He could not have it.

Later, when she threw him the sword but he could not admit her assistance aided him, she was so furious. She could not marry a man like that, surely.


"What if you don't choose magic," she'd asked, her eyes flicking over to see his response to such a question. A question that could get another person hanged.

"What if magic chooses you?"

He gave her such a strange expression; it was as though he'd looked right through into her soul. She'd felt a frisson of something that she'd ignored. Merlin was merely being Merlin and Gwen had been right about him all along.


"Did you know Merlin tried to free you by confessing to sorcery?" she asked her maid. Guinevere was sitting on the ground in the cell; her simple brown dress stained with the dirt that the guards could never be bothered cleaning.

Gwen smiled sadly; only slightly cheered by the news.

"I think he must really care for you to do something like that," Morgana said.

Her maid shook her head.

"Merlin would do something like that for anybody."

"If you say so," she replied, but she thought that Gwen was too modest. What else but love could motivate such sacrifice?


"Bayard laced Arthur's goblet... with poison," declared Merlin.

Morgana winced inwardly. This, and so soon after the declaration of sorcery to save Gwen? What was Merlin thinking? That was obvious, she thought. He was thinking that he needed to save Arthur's life. Again.


Morgana rolled over in the bed and tried to stop her thoughts; she hated thinking about this time. Merlin drinking the goblet and collapsing on the floor, Arthur going after the Morteaus flower, and the conversation she had not been meant to overhear.


"Morgana encouraged him to it, but you're aware of that, aren't you?"

"Yes, Sire," said Gaius' voice, "I suspected as much."

"She doesn't care at all about this servant boy of yours. She didn't even visit him while he was ill. What is he, your nephew?"

"My niece's son," answered Gaius, calmly.

"Well, he may be loyal but he served as is expected and the outcome was regrettable. But what happened next... Arthur's life was saved only to be placed in danger again and she encouraged him to it."

"I know, Sire, but I think she had her heart in the right place."

"Her heart? The woman wanted only to prove that Arthur could be manipulated. More than one person speaks of their impending marriage and she was trialling how much control she could wield if that came to pass."

"Maybe, Sire, but you forget that she is still a child and a lonely one. Her father doted on her..."

"Too much," growled Uther.

"... and she needs to feel that she has some control over her life. She may have been motivated as you say but I believe also that she felt that saving Merlin was the right thing to do. Is it wrong for her to expect her future husband to uphold the values that..."

"Enough," commanded Uther. "Both boys live. That is what's important. And Arthur's actions were noble. I am proud to be his father. But Morgana is going to be a great deal of trouble in the next few years. I need your advice on how to handle her."

Morgana hadn't heard the rest; she had run. Because it was unfair and hateful.

And true.

And she would prove him wrong.


"I can't believe you fed me rat stew."

"Sorry Milady, but you did ask if we had any food."

Then his infectious grin had broken out and she had smiled back and Gwen had giggled and oh, how they'd all laughed.


She chuckled to herself softly in the moonlight and hoped that nobody heard. And she saw; the Questing Beast and Merlin and Arthur running and Arthur dead and...

... Merlin's face lit by the pyre where his sorcerer friend burnt in sacrifice to Arthur and she wondered suddenly why she had never realised that this meant he knew that magic could be used for good and...

...Gwen lying asleep and safe in Merlin's bed while her father was the walking dead and her realising that Merlin cared for her maid and yet didn't want her in that way and was astonished at such friendship. And jealous... and...

... nothing because her plot to kill the King is something she refused to think about; refuses to admit. It did not happen; she has willed it not to be and all who knew about it are dead anyway.... and...


"You shouldn't be doing this," a concerned Gaius said.

"This is exactly what I should be doing," she answered as she placed one of the injured men on a table.

"You need rest, Morgana."

"I'm unlikely to get it with all this going on."

Sigan had attacked as was foretold and Arthur was out there fighting the creatures. And she was so angry at him for imprisoning Merlin and had been planning on remonstrating with him he saved his life... twice... she fumed but the attack had intervened and now she... Arthur was here and needed treatment. She and Gwen got distracted by that for a moment and then...

"Gwen, I thought I saw Merlin."

"Merlin is in prison, My Lady," said Gwen and Morgana was astonished that the girl seemed almost indifferent. What on Earth had happened? Surely she would be as angry as she was about Arthur's behaviour.

The sorcerer had been defeated and the next day Merlin had been there in his cell and she had convinced herself that she was mistaken. But no, she thought, Merlin had been there and had spoken to Gaius.


But of course he was, she realised, as she lay there in the light of a rising moon. He had been there because they were in trouble. Just as he had been there for Gwen when he needed her and just as he had been there to help her.

He may just be a loyal servant. But he was hers as much as Arthur's and for this she was grateful.

And she rolled over and tried to sleep. And failed.