A/N Things are moving a bit slower than I'd hoped, but I'm trying to make sure I set things up right so just bear with me! The action should really pick up next chapter.

"Your green amulet," Mordred fingered the nape pf Morgana's neck, "It's gone." The two of them were lying on the bed after another healing session—Morgana was exhausted, but her pale cheeks reddened at Mordred's observation.

"Oh yes, um, I believe I dropped it somewhere—I'm incredibly clumsy—probably when I was…"

"When you were saving Merlin." Mordred's voice wasn't overtly upset or accusatory, simply neutral.

Morgana thought of Merlin on the day that they stormed Camelot, standing in the doorway of court, eyes blazing, hair windswept, expression fierce…power emanating from every inch of his body, "What if Emrys kills you?"

"He won't."

Morgana didn't say anything, but fiddled with Mordred's green amulet, dragging her fingers along the Druid symbols. "What if we just ran away? You know, eloped? Forgot about all this." Morgana closed her eyes and breathed in, smiling a bit as she envisioned her fantasy, "We could go far, far away, beyond the Northern Plains, ride our horses out there together. We could practice and develop our magic together, rediscover the secrets of the Old Religion, perhaps even create new enchantments! We wouldn't answer to anyone."

Mordred's expression softened, and for a moment his features seemed young again. "Maybe one day." He felt Morgana's body tense up against his, then heard the soft pitter patter of a tears dropping against the bedsheets.

"Arthur! My boy, where could you be going at this late hour?" Agravaine was so caught off guard at running into Arthur near the stables that he forgot to consider explaining his own reasons for being there at a peculiar hour.

"Uncle!" Arthur seemed equally surprised. He stumbled forward a couple steps as Merlin, who had been following close-behind, bumped into him, "Ow, Merlin!"

"What? Why'd you stop?" Merlin was decked in a purple tunic shirt with a red neckerchief, and brown walking boots—no need for royal purple robes when he was traveling, he was much more comfortable in low-profile garb. "Oh, Lord Agravaine, hello." Merlin blinked and forced down the urge to run. He had not forgotten Agravaine's role in helping Uther place him at the mercy of Halig, who then placed him in the hands of Ramsay [1].

Agravaine raised an eyebrow and didn't respond, but bowed his head ever so slightly. "I was heading to the kitchens, to get some tea for Old King Uther."

At the mention of his vegetative father, Arthur's suspicious thoughts were quelled, "Ah, I see. My father is lucky to have you here, taking care of him. Oy! Careful!" At that moment Ronan whizzed past, carrying two saddles, nearly dropping one on Arthur's foot. Merlin went off to help, but kept one ear trained on the conversation behind him. "Pardon my squire, uncle. He's helping me prepare the horses. I decided to depart Camelot early this morning, rather than tomorrow."

Agravaine's mouth dropped open slightly, "You-you, but-"

Arthur put his hand up, "Please forgive me for not telling you Uncle, I know you're family and I meant no offense. But I'm playing this one close to the chest."

Agravaine swallowed, "That is very wise of you." In the dim lighting, it was hard to discern his pale and sweaty features. He did however, dab his forehead with his robe, "I'll be getting that tea now. And do be careful, Arthur."

Arthur gave a curt nod and parted ways with his uncle, walking forward to grab a burlap sack, then heading back towards Merlin, whose lips were pursed, "Are you sure it was a good idea to tell him that?"

"He's my uncle," Arthur justified. "And besides, he already saw us. What am I going to say? I'm going hunting in the wee hours of the morning? The day before I leave?"

Merlin declined to respond, and watched as Ronan expertly tied the packs to the horse then double checked the straps on the saddle. The boy was obviously hiding a limp, which was probably painful, but he didn't make a peep. "It's just that he may accidentally mention it to someone, who may then mention it to someone else, and so on and so forth."

Ronan gave the reins to Arthur and Merlin, and then started following along as they started walking towards the gates. Arthur was looking intently at Merlin's outfit, "No armor? Could be dangerous. My father hasn't exactly made many friends with the Druids of the years, and from what you've told me, neither have you."

Merlin shrugged, "Regular weapons can't get to me, and armor won't protect me against the weapons that can."

"…King Arthur?"

They turned around, both a bit stunned—Arthur couldn't quite recall if he'd ever even been addressed by his reticent squire before, "Uh, yes Ronan, what is it?"

"Are you sure you don't want me to accompany you?" Ronan was looking at the ground, shuffling his weight back and forth between either foot.

Arthur smiled a little, "I'm giving you the month off, and you're complaining? You see Merlin? Other people think it's an honor to serve me."

Merlin gave him a skeptical look, then smirked. In truth, he was the one who had suggested to Arthur that they leave Ronan at home. Gwaine had taken a liking to the boy and didn't have a squire anyway. Merlin's main reason however, was that he knew Ronan had an injury, and probably shouldn't be traipsing about the countryside. Regarding the explanation of the injury, Merlin had sat Ronan down in his chambers, and ask him in all seriousness, to come forward about anything that might threaten the kingdom's safety. But Merlin was no hard-hearted person, and when Ronan started sniffling, on the verge of tears, he couldn't press further.

It was just an older boy, he was bullying me. I don't want to talk about it.

That was enough for Merlin. He figured the situation might not be more serious than that (and he didn't want to be responsible for making someone cry!). But a small nagging voice in the back of his mind insisted otherwise.

Hearing Mordred's footsteps outside the door, Morgana quickly folded up the parchment in her hands and shoved it in her cloak pocket. Agravaine was urgently relaying that Arthur had left Camelot a day early. She received his note a couple days ago, not long before they set out from Cenred's castle, and had worked out a plan in the meantime. Now her and Mordred were on the road—it was the fourth day, and they'd stopped to camp out in an abandoned hovel. Mordred had left early in the morning without a word, and was only just returning at this late hour.

"I've practiced the enchantment a hundred times now. I could do it in my sleep," he was smiling excitedly, "I'll be ready for Emrys when we cross paths on the bridge tomorrow."

Morgana knew that by the time they reached the bridge, Merlin and Arthur would have already passed it. This made what she was going to do easier. "Mordred?"

He didn't seem to hear her; he was busy tearing off a piece of bread from the table. Morgana wasn't sure if the healing sessions had had much of an effect, but one thing was for sure, Mordred was still hell-bent on capturing Merlin. "Based on Ramsay's memories, Emrys's body contains an unparalleled power source. With him under my control, I'll be undefeatable. No one will be able to hurt me. Ever again."

Morgana spooned some stew into a bowl and walked over to the table, setting it down in front of Mordred. Sitting down next to him, she put her hand on his, "I'm happy for you."

Mordred stopped eating and turned to look at her, "Morgana your hands are ice-cold. Shouldn't you be recovered by now? We finished the healing sessions weeks ago."

Morgana laid her head on Mordred's shoulder, "Don't go to the bridge tomorrow. Let's ride to the Northern Plains together. You can complete your healing there. We'll be happy." Morgana started crying.

Mordred pulled her in for a hug, "Emrys's power will heal me well enough. If the Northern Plains is where you want to go, we can do that anytime! I'll go with you after we complete this mission."

Morgana cried harder, "It has to be tonight, Mordred."

"You're not making any sense Morgana," Mordred ran his fingers through Morgana's hair, "You shouldn't have spent so much energy on the healing sessions."

Morgana's breathing slowly calmed, and her shaking diminished, "You're right, my love." She lifted her face from his shoulder and looked up at him, "I think I should rest. Would you be angry with me if I didn't go with you to the bridge tomorrow?"

"Of course not! You just stay here and rest. Gather up your energy. When I'm done tomorrow we'll go back to Cenred's castle and I'll heal up a bit. Then we can plan for a trip to the Northern Plains."

Morgana smiled, and got up to go to bed. Staring out through the small window, she took one last glance at the stars and moon, before closing her eyes.

Gaius placed his hand reassuringly on Riona's shoulder. They were sitting at his table waiting for Gwaine and Lancelot to come by. Gaius had asked them to come after practice. "It'll be fine, Riona."

"Ronan," Riona corrected just as the door swung open. Gwaine and Lancelot sauntered in, Gwaine peered around looking for signs of Merlin.

"Have you guys seen Merlin at all today?"

Riona looked hesitantly at Gaius, who nodded, "Gwaine…Merlin's not in Camelot anymore."

Gwaine and Lancelot both tensed, peering cautiously at Riona. "What are you saying Ronan?" Lancelot asked.

"Well, Arthur decided to leave today, instead of tomorrow. He wanted to keep it a secret in case there were any leaks inside Camelot. But…but I'm worried about his safety. I think-I think we should all go with him."

"Ronan, Camelot can't be left defenseless. It's important that Camelot's knights are here to protect her, especially when the king's gone," Lancelot explained.

"Yeah," Gwaine chimed in, "And princess can handle himself. Plus he's got Merlin there to protect him. Man, those two sneaky little-"

"I wouldn't finish that sentence," Gaius said with his eyes twinkling, "Whatever you have to say likely borders on treasonous name-calling, Sir Gwaine."

Lancelot chuckled, "Well you can't blame them. It was a smart move."

"I know it's important to protect Camelot," Riona said, "But isn't it more important to protect the king? I think he may be in danger. As well as Merlin."

Gwaine's face became serious, "Ronan, did you hear of anything that we should know?"

Riona looked to Gauis, then back to Gwaine and Lancelot, "I think I saw a man who looked like Ramsay the other day."

"That's not possible Ronan, we found Ramsay's body in pieces," Lancelot reminded.

"But maybe he has some family or what not, Camelot doesn't know much about his background," Riona argued. She tried not to balk under pressure as the two knights observed her carefully, mulling over the situation. "I just have a bad feeling, and feel that they should have more protection."

"Merlin used to have those a lot: funny feelings," Gwaine noted.

"Gaius, do you concur? Is this why you called us to your chambers?" Lancelot asked.

Gaius nodded, "It couldn't hurt for you to catch up with them at the first Druid camp, which won't be far from Camelot."

Lancelot ran his fingers through his hair, thinking, "Ok but do something for me Gaius, while we're away, please gather some more information on Ramsay's family and origins. Try to send it to us by raven as soon as possible." Gaius bowed his head in assent, keenly aware that Riona was gawking at him with a petrified expression.

"Since the first camp isn't far from Camelot, we may as well bring Percival, Elyan, and Leon," Gwaine suggested. While he and Lancelot began to discuss the specifics, Riona walked over to the stairs right beneath her room and grabbed her sword [2], the one she had been carrying when Gwaine and Arthur had first found her—it was castle-forged steel, and had been a gift from her father.

"You'll need me to lead the way."

When Morded woke up the next morning, Morgana was still sound asleep. He got up quietly from the bed and tried not to wake her. Today was the day. He was going to take Emrys captive. Grabbing his special mace, he walked out of the hut.

The bridge was about half a day's walk from the hovel, and technically Mordred could have used magic to transport himself there quicker, but he didn't want to waste any energy. Besides, according to his calculations, Merlin and Arthur shouldn't be arriving until early evening. The day was still young and the sun just rising above the tree tops. A few odd clouds rolled in, dotting the blue skies and threatening rain later in the day.

Mordred looked down and observed the mace he was holding—it was a powerful magical tool, but also used up lots of energy from the wielder. He had happened upon it quite by accident, when he was setting up the dungeon that would contain Merlin. According to Petyr, Cenred's predecessor had captured an aggressive warlord at some point in the past. The mace was his most prized possession—it was an effective and well-designed piece of weaponry, yet he did not know of its true powers. The real power of the mace lay in its versatility, as an extension of a sorcerer's powers. Mordred practiced a couple of different spells using it, but focused on one that incurred little physical damage to the receiver yet rendered them weak (and riddled with pain). It was particularly tricky, and a small lapse in concentration could be enough to alter the spell into a deadly one. Mordred did add few purposeful alterations of his own to the spell. For example, when the visage of the dragon head passed through the recipient's chest, that person would feel that they were simultaneously punched in the stomach and the chest. Additionally, it would seek out any magic in a person's body and freeze it, making it inaccessible to that person. Mordred smiled to himself, proud of these achievements. Perhaps taking a sabbatical to the Northern Plains sometime to improve his magic and create new enchantments would be a useful venture indeed. That'd make Morgana happy, maybe she'd stop moping.

When Mordred reached the bridge he knew there was still time to wait. So he found a shady alcove to hide in and sat down to build up his magical energy through meditation.

*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*~*M*

Mordred watched a lone figure approach the other side of the bridge, casting long shadows against the ground. It definitely looked like Merlin, in his signature manservant outfit, hair tousled, walking with a bumbling, gangly gait. Standing up, he walked to the bridge.

Merlin seemed startled, "Mordred?" He squinted and held his hand to his forehead, trying to shield his eyes from the sun, "Why are you here?"

"Where's Arthur?"

"Arthur's half a day behind me, with the knights of Camelot. I came ahead to scout."

Mordred sneered, "It seems the gods have favored me on this glorious day." He looked at Merlin, still standing there awkwardly, giving him what appeared to be a sad look. "I'm sorry to have to do this Emrys, but I've lived a cruel, hard life. I won't be a victim any longer. I won't let anyone have the power to hurt me again!" As he finished his last sentence, Mordred swung the mace above his head and flung it towards Merlin. As he chanted an incantation his eyes glowed gold and a flaming dragon's head appeared at the front of the mace, galloping forward.

Merlin squeezed his eyes shut and braced for impact. But in the split second before it happened, Mordred saw his eyes pop wide open. "NOOOO!" In that moment, Mordred realized what was going on and tried to withdraw his mace, but it was too late.

Mordred saw the dragon blow through Merlin's chest, creating a resounding BOOM sound as it exited. The image of Merlin flickered and another person's appearance shimmered into view. Long locks of flowy black hair billowed in the wind, blank green eyes stared back at him—it was Morgana. Teetering for a couple moments, she gripped onto the bridge's handrails as a trickle of blood dribbled down the corner of her mouth. She tried to walk forward but coughed, sputtering out droplets of blood, then collapsed.

Mordred rushed forward, just barely managing to catch her in his arms before she hit the ground. Morgana's eyes were barely open, "You've become…so much stronger…than I expected."

Mordred sat on the ground, holding Morgana, "What have you done?"

"You don't have, the power necessary, to capture Emrys, Mordred. He would have killed you, even with this weapon at your disposal." Morgana knew Merlin was too gentle-hearted to kill anyone in cold blood, but if that person were threatening Arthur's life, or the safety of Camelot, Merlin could do what was necessary [3]. Morgana knew this painfully well, and even as her body was racked with waves of electric pain, she felt her chest tighten as she remembered Merlin holding her in his arms, teary-eyed and upset at having poisoned her.

Mordred felt Morgana's breathing become shallower, "What's wrong with you? My enchantment wasn't supposed to kill you." But even as he said this, he knew that in the minute before the mace hit her, he had a lapse in concentration, when he realized it wasn't Merlin. "You didn't have to do this."

Morgana smiled weakly, "I couldn't let you…go to your death."

"HAVE YOU SO LITTLE FAITH IN ME?" Mordred's shouted, voice thick with emotion. "I COULD HAVE DONE IT. You just wanted to protect your precious Merlin." His hands trembled noticeably, his breath raggedy. Using the mace had been taxing by itself, but then also trying to back out of the enchantment...it just sent all his magical energy into upheaval; his systems were now crashing. Mordred's well-trained ears could perceive clanging footsteps drawing near. It was the Camelot knights. "Did you betray me Morgana? Are you consigning me to Camelot's prisons?!" Mordred shook Morgana, but she had lost consciousness by this point. A piece of parchment fell out of her cloak, and Mordred picked it up.

Dearest Morgana, Arthur has decided to leave a day early. The schedule I gave you is now off by a day. I only just found out and apologize for the delay.

Morgana curled his hand into a fist, slowly crumpling up the paper. Throwing his head back he roared into the sky, black fumes beginning to radiate from his body [4]. Morgana opened her eyes again, dimly perceiving that Mordred was screaming. Mordred held her close against his chest, and whispered into her ear, "I thought you loved me, Morgana, I though you said you wouldn't let anything bad happen to me. You've disappointed me, but I won't let you ruin everything."

"Hey! Stop it, right there!" Gwaine rushed forward. A dark, smoky figure enveloped in black steam seemed to seize up momentarily, then sped away. Gwaine started to give chase, but was held back by Lancelot.

"Look, someone's been injured, they're lying on the ground!"

"I don't believe it!" Leon exclaimed. "It's the Lady Morgana!"

[1] In the last story, Agravaine convinced Uther to send Merlin away to be tortured for an oath of fealty. He arranged for Halig to transport Merlin to King Alined's supposed extractor, Ramsay. It was later revealed that Ramsay no longer worked for Alined.

[2] When Gwaine and Arthur found Ronan in the streets, he was wearing makeshift armor and had a sword hanging at his waist. Gwaine noted that it was made of castle-forged steel.

[3] Season 2 Episode 12: The Fires of Idirsholas

[4] Black steam rose from Ramsay's body when Mordred killed him.