AN: This chapter is going to be shorter than normal, but I wanted to reward you guys for leaving me so many reviews. Thanks you very much, each and every word counts to me. I try to answer my reviewers, but if you are a guest then don't ask questions because I sadly can not reply to you or message you the answers to your questions.

Disclaimer: Don't own Merlin or Harry Potter, nor am I making any form of monetary gain from this little venture. It's purely for the pleasure of my readers and to hone my writing skills.

SCENE BREAK

When Harry returned to Camelot with his gift, he set off to find Morgana. The problem was that he couldn't find a sign of her which worried him slightly. He had only a rough idea of how she would take the news of their courtship and it involved a long sharp piece of steel. She was not a submissive woman nor the sort to take orders, he knew that. It's part of what made her so attractive to him, that she had become so strong and independent in a time where strength in women was frowned upon, but he still had to explain that to her. If he had to have a girlfriend, then he wanted her to be able to think for herself. He didn't need a slave nor did he want one. He needed someone who could hold her own and would tell him to his face when she thought he was wrong. She needed to know that he was not taking her independence from her, but was going to encourage it.

Finally, he found one of the castle guards who informed him that the Lady Morgana had gone out riding with her maid and a knight for protection. Officially, there was only one knight on protection detail, but Arthur had ordered three knights to discreetly follow them, just in case a band of brigands became too bold. It took Harry around ten minutes to make it to the stables where his destrier, Hermes, awaited him anxiously. The horse butted him roughly, his form of scolding Harry for not visiting or using him often enough. Harry had been forced to whisper apologies to the much too clever steed before he was allowed to saddle him and load his gift into the saddle bags. As usual, Hermes was all too happy to prance his way to the gates with Harry perched on his back and the steed looked kingly with it's gold reigns as well as the black saddle blanket.

Harry rode around aimlessly for half an hour, giving Hermes some exercise by riding him fast through the woods to leap over fallen trees and tested his reaction to the reigns by changing direction without warning. Hermes obeyed his commands perfectly, not once hesitating or putting up a fuss. It made his rider suspicious, wondering when the other shoe was going to drop. Make no mistake, Hermes was a powerfully built and swift horse, but he had a distinct attitude problem so his sudden obedience was alarming. Sometimes, Harry wondered whether Hermes was magical or if Nimueh had cast some sort of enchantment on him since most horses were not nearly as intelligent as the black stallion.

All too soon he spotted Morgana and Gwen. Morgana was clothed in a gorgeous blue dress with her black hair plaited and no woman had ever looked so beautiful in the color. Ravenclaw herself would have jealous and green with envy. His breath caught his throat as he stared at her, dumbfounded by how the bright sunlight made her pale skin gleam like moonlight. She turned and looked straight at him, her smiling face turning emotionless. It was at that point that Hermes' revenge became apparent as the horse suddenly reared and threw his rider. Hermes snickered at him, a sound that was very near a laugh especially with the way his lips lifted to display his teeth in a sort of triumphant grin. Harry glared up at Hermes sullenly from his place on the ground, cursing the beast under his breath.

"Sir Hadrian!" Morgana's worried cry caused Harry to remain flat on his back. A worried Morgana was better than an angry or emotionless one in his opinion. She soon reached him and began to help him up as she glared balefully at Hermes who snickered again. "That horse should be put down. It's obviously untrustworthy."

"No, just mischievous and spirited. His revenge for not visiting him earlier." Harry defended his horse, he threw a dark look at the steed as he stood up before he turned to Morgana. "I was hoping to speak to you. Prince Arthur informed me of our courtship less than three hours ago. I think we need to talk."

"Really? I don't see that there's much to say." Morgana replied coolly, switching moods so suddenly that he was caught off guard. How on earth could someone go from concerned to cold in the blink of an eye?

"Well, I do." Harry answered, glancing around to see that Gwen and the knight was nearby. "We really need to sort some things out. Could you two give us a few moments of privacy? You don't have to go far, just out of ear shot."

The knight opened his mouth to protest, but Gwen swiftly interjected with one of her warm smiles, "I don't think that would be a problem, do you Sir Leon?"

"Stay within view. The King would have my head if I allowed a courting couple out of my sight." Sir Leon warned, giving Harry a pointed look that said 'don't try anything funny'. Harry nodded to the knight, showing his acceptance of the terms. Once Sir Leon and Gwen had retreated a little over a hundred feet, Harry took a deep breath then turned to Morgana.

"I want you to know that this wasn't my idea. I was as surprised as you." Harry began, feeling a bit nervous when Morgana stared back at him with an expectant eyebrow raised. "Bloody hell, this is difficult. Listen, I know that you prize your independence and your freedom. I won't take that from you. I can't promise we'll be happy or love one another, but I will take care of you and try to make your life as comfortable as possible. Morgana, I really do like you and a lot of it is because of who you are. You're one of a kind. Strong, clever, beautiful, and willful. I won't, I can't take that from you."

"Pretty words, but have they any truth?" Morgana drawled, unconvinced by his speech. Harry faltered at her doubt, but pushed on, his determination to prove her wrong becoming stronger.

"I don't know what I can do to prove my sincerity to you. What would you have me do? Do you want me to fight all of Camelot?" Harry asked, his frustration leaking into his voice. "I'd do it, you know, just to prove I care. I was never any good at romantic conversation, my lady. Give me a task, find a troll for me to slay, point me toward an enemy, and I'd fight it!"

"Fight Camelot? A troll? No, I don't want you to do that." Morgana began, walking toward her white mare and fiddling with something near it's saddle. When she turned around, she unsheathed the sword that she kept there. "Fight me. You wish to prove that you respect me, then fight as you would a man."

"But...nevermind. Alright." Harry began to protest, having a problem with fighting against women out of ethics, but he stopped and agreed to it, knowing she would accept nothing else. He walked to Hermes and withdrew the Discerner, giving the excellent blade a twirl. "If this is what it takes, then I'll do it."

"Hmm, this might be interesting after all." Morgana grinned, eyeing the beautiful sword that had been forged for Harry's hand alone. She took her stance and briefly wondered whether she should warn him not to hold back, then dismissed that thought with a smirk. If he underestimated her, then so much the better.

"Ready?" Harry questioned, feeling confident in his skill. He had finished second in the tournament, after all.

Instead of replying, Morgana struck out with lightning speed that surprised him so much that he barely managed to block it. He tried to force her back with his superior strength, but Morgana twirled on her heel, slashing her sword at his back as she turned. Harry jumped forward, dodging the strike and turned with his blade held in front of him defensively. Morgana appraised him briefly, an eyebrow lifted in challenge. "What's wrong, Sir Hadrian? Suddenly, you're not so confident."

"Just a bit surprised, my lady." Harry stated, a hint of a smirk on his lips as he realized from their brief exchange that he couldn't hold back. It lit a fire in his chest. He lunged, but she blocked it with a downward swing before swinging up at his neck. Harry took half a step back, watching as the sword sliced through the air where his chin had been and swung at her right side which she blocked by dropping into a crouch to make her blade faster on it's descent. Their swords locked, but she did not allow him to take advantage of the position and surprised him with a punch to his jaw. The shock of having her actually punch him was what knocked him back rather than the force of the hit.

Harry growled and lunged, then feinted, turning it into an angled diagonal swipe that forced her lean back and compensate for the block she had prepared. Suddenly, Harry realized that her foot was near the inside of his right ankle right before she kicked out. He was knocked down onto his back with her blade pointed at his throat. He looked up into her flushed face, her lips pulled into a feral smile, "You're skilled. Few can match Arthur, but I beat him routinely, my lord."

"You're good. Better than me." Harry acknowledged, then kicked her feet from under her causing her to fall on top of him. He used her surprised to flip them over so that he was on top, drawing his dagger from the back of his belt in one smooth movement. He held it against her throat, breathing heavily with a grin, "But I cheat!"

Morgana stared at him, her usually cold eyes aflame with the thrill of the fight. She shifted her hips, causing her to grind against him briefly. His green eyes went wide at her action, unable to believe she'd do something like that and his shock was his downfall. She had slyly removed her own dagger from the underside of her bodice and now nicked the side of his throat to display her win. Gray green eyes were heady with triumph, strangely cat-like as she purred, "So do I."

"Fine, you win." Harry managed to say, his voice trembling slightly as arousal shot through his body. Morgana smirked, he idly noted that she had smirking down to an art form. Her eyes went downward for a moment then glanced up slyly, her smirk widening. He realized suddenly that Sir Leon and Gwen were watching which caused him to shoot to his feet. "I, hem hem, I have a gift for you, m-my lady."

"I'm sure." She commented lightly with a hint of teasing, raising another eyebrow. He held out a hand to help her up which she accepted, brushing the grass off of her dress. To be honest, she was surprised that she fought as well as she did considering the dress she was wearing. While it was a gorgeous dress, it was hardly practical. She eyed him with a little more respect as he went up to his stallion and ruffled around in the saddle bags. When he turned, she saw that he had two strangely wrapped boxes.

"I can promise you two things: one, you've never had anything like this and, two, you'll never be able to find it in Camelot." Harry told her, walking up to her before presenting the gifts to her. "It's called 'chocolate' and it comes from a land to the far north called Swiss' Land. I was fortunate to run into an old friend of mine who is a merchant. He was kind enough to let me buy these off of him before any other buyer."

"Strange gift." Morgana frowned, opening the wrapping that covered one of the little rectangular package to reveal a heavenly smelling brown bar of some sort. "Is it some sort of soap?"

"No, it's a dessert. You eat it. In fact, I think you may be the first person in Albion to ever taste chocolate." Harry smiled in amusement as he saw the suspicious glances she kept shooting the bars, likely doubting that anything brown would be tasty. When he spoke next, his tone was teasing, "Give it a try. Unless my lady thinks that I would poison her?"

"Oh, I don't think you have the guts to poison me, Sir Hadrian." Morgana replied tauntingly, breaking off a little square and sniffing it lightly. Despite her words, she still eyed him with some suspicion. Harry gave her a challenging look and, sure enough, she took a bite if only to spite him. Her eyes widened and a small moan escaped her lips as the delicious treat melted in her mouth. "This is amazing!"

"I'm glad you like it. Don't eat too much of it or you might get sick. Just small bits at a time. It's meant to be savored." Harry informed her encouragingly, his green eyes staring straight at her ruby mouth as he pink tongue shot out to lick the traces of chocolate off of her lips. She noticed his stare and teasingly exaggerated her pleasure which wasn't too difficult. The 'chocolate' truly was divine and made all the more valuable to her since she was the first to ever enjoy it's taste. "I-I see you like it."

"Hmmmm." She nodded, breaking off another tiny piece and nibbling on it. She was well aware of his reaction and enjoyed the power it gave her over him, making liberal use of her tongue as she ate the sinful treat. Harry watched, his mouth open just a bit as he stared. She took the opportunity to shove a small piece of the chocolate into his mouth. Morgana felt a bit paranoid, but the fact he chewed up the desert and swallowed it caused her to relax her guard. She had been worried for a moment. Nothing was as good as this 'chocolate' was without some sort of catch, but it appeared to be simply heavenly.

"I'd love to stay and watch you lick, I mean eat, eat the chocolate, but I've spent too much time riding. There is an old friend of mine that I have to meet." Harry said, stammering a bit with a very slight blush on his pale cheeks. Morgana frowned in disappointment. "But, maybe we can have dinner together later and talk about where this is going. There's something important I have to discuss with you."

"Very well, later. Come to my chambers at around seven. I'll have Gwen bring something up from the kitchen for us." Morgana agreed, not wanting him to leave, but not wanting to seem too eager either. "I'm sure Uther wouldn't mind so long as Gwen is present, but we should expect one of Arthur's 'surprise' visits."

"Alright, then. Seven." Harry smiled, an open genuine smile that hadn't crossed his face in far too long. "See you there, my lady."

SCENE BREAK

Harry walked into the clearing that he had specified in his letter. It was far enough from Camelot to avoid any patrols and decently secluded for the meeting to come. He knew his friend was nearby, could feel his eyes on him, but he was content to wait until the man was convinced that he hadn't been followed. It took fifteen minutes before his fellow sorcerer was satisfied that Harry had come alone.

"Greetings, Sir Hadrian." Alvarr smirked, hoping to catch Harry off guard with a sudden appearance but only got a bored look in return. He sighed, "How is it that you always know when I'm about?"

"You breathe too heavily." Harry replied with a grin, walking over to clasp forearms with his first teacher in the ways of the Old Religion. He glanced over his friend's shoulder, spotting Enmyria and several others he did not know. "I see you've expanded your band, old friend."

"Uther's cruelty earns him enemies daily, but what is this that I've heard about you remaining in Camelot?" Alvarr asked, a sly smile on his face. "Besotted by the King's ward, I've heard. Not becoming sympathetic to our enemies, are you?"

"You know how much I despise Uther, Alvarr. By the way, my love life is none of your business. Not everyone enjoys boasting like you." Harry told him easily, not worried in the slightest that Alvarr might think he had turned traitor to his own race. "Morgana is not Uther."

"Ah, so this maiden's name is Morgana? I'd have never thought you would finally find yourself a woman given your shyness." Alvarr playfully mocked, getting shoved for it by Harry. "I must ask: did she have to blackmail you into love?"

"No, she did not. Doesn't mean she would not." Harry stated with a fond smile that caused Alvarr's eyebrows to raise. He glanced over at Enmyria and gave a brief bow in her direction, "Still with this dog, Enmyria? I thought his womanizing would have drove you off by now or that you would have killed him in his sleep?"

"Not yet. He does have some redeeming traits." The sorceress smirked, glancing over at her lover and friend. "Not many, but some. How have you been, Hadrian?"

"Surprisingly well. My head is still on my shoulders, but unfortunately so is Uther's." Harry commented lightly, brief disappointment crossing his face as he mentioned the king.

"Not to worry. His time is coming soon." Alvarr remarked, his voice darker than normal. It caused Harry to shoot him a pointed look. "Won't be soon enough, however."

"Now is not the time to make war on Uther Pendragon. It's time for us to find a home for our people and to build." Harry announced, giving the group a steady and stern look. He would not have them screwing around and causing needless trouble. "I have a plan that will help me to take back Blackwood. I've received information concerning all of Bayard's forces in those lands, information that will prove invaluable. In return for certain trade concessions, should we liberate my lands from Bayard's men then we will be allowed to govern ourselves with myself as an independent Lord, free from any other kingdom...and their laws."

"You speak of having magic legal in Blackwood?" Alvarr asked, suddenly very interested. "I think that I can get behind that idea, but what of Bayard's armies? His knights are notoriously brutal and well equipped. How will you deal with them when not Camelot can defeat them?"

"My people are hunters and our prey will be his knights. We do not confront them on open ground with a standing army. We will wear their numbers down with small skirmishes and ambushes using the bow and arrows. With our knowledge of the mountains, tracking us will be near impossible." Harry explained, receiving smirks from the group at the unorthodox plan. "We will inspire the people with stories and propaganda. Once word gets out about our success then our army will grow."

"But these are fishermen, farmers, and the hunters will have little experience in battle. None of them are trained for combat." Alvarr pointed out, finding a flaw in the plan. "It takes time to train the men up to an effective level, time that Bayard will not allow you."

"I know. That is why the men must be trained in secret before we ever engage the knights." Harry nodded, thankful for Alvarr's input as it allowed him to explain things more fully. "We will recruit slowly in small groups. Only I will know where each squad is at any given time. That will prevent any captured men from betraying the others under torture. Before I go any further, I must know: will you fight against Bayard's armies? Will you obey my commands? Will you fight for a home for our people?"

Alvarr immediately opened his mouth to swear to it, but paused and looked over his ragtag group, recalling that he could not speak for them. He waited for them to discuss it, despite wanting nothing more than to agree with Harry and go to war. When the others nodded to him, he turned back to his friend with a fierce grin, "We are with you...my lord. What do you need us to do?"

"Alvarr, you are a gifted speaker and able swordsman. I want you to find the enemies of Bayard in my lands, sway them to my side, but do so quietly. Our enemies must not know of us before we are ready or else we are already defeated. I want no more than twenty to a group with a sorcerer in command, but no obvious magic, I don't need that getting back to Uther." Harry ordered, looking pointedly at Enmyria who nodded reluctantly. "Magic will be allowed in my lands, but it must be secret until we are strong and the land stable. Approach the druids, recruit those you can from their numbers, but remind them that, even if they will not fight with us, they will still be welcome in Blackwood with our victory. It will breed good will among them."

"And what will you be doing?" Enmyria asked, not doubting him, but curious. She knew that Hadrian was a fearless man, one who did not hesitate to put his life on the line for a friend or for a cause he thought was just.

"I will be funding supplying equipment for our band: swords, arrows, bows, daggers, food. We will stay lightly armored, only chain mail and even then keep it hidden beneath your clothing. Our enemies are many and heavily armored, we must use that to our advantage. You will have the money to pay the men, but I insist that you use no mercenaries and recruit solely from the population." Harry demanded in a tone that said he would not be defied on that point. He went over to Hermes and withdrew a bag that he tossed at Alvarr's feet. "That is four hundred gold pieces. It should be a damned good start. For the time being, I will remain in Camelot. In five months, the war will begin. Train as many as you can. Good luck, my friends."

"Sir Hadrian!" Alvarr called out as Harry mounted Hermes, causing the man to rear his horse around to face the group. Alvarr paused and he looked down, but when he lifted his head, his face was full of emotion. "Thank you...for giving us hope."

"No, thank you my friends. For being willing to fight tyranny with nothing but hope." Harry smiled back with a nod of respect, before he urged Hermes to gallop off.

SCENE CHANGE

Harry entered his room at the Inn and took off his cloak, tossing it down on the rickety chair next to his bed. He had been surprised by how much he had enjoyed his evening with Morgana. The two of them had discussed many things: politics, Camelot, bashed Arthur a bit, just about the only thing that they didn't talk about was themselves. Both had avoided that, Harry due to his past and Morgana due to her privacy. Gwen had played chaperon for them, remaining silent for the most part but occasionally shooting them oddly stern looks whenever she thought they were getting too close.

He laughed to himself, realizing that he felt happy. Very happy and he didn't know why. It was a strange feeling, a sense of lightness and peace that he had never known before. Harry couldn't put a finger on what it was about Morgana that made feel such gladness. By all rights, he felt he should hate her. She was spoiled, arrogant, manipulative, and he could go on, but instead he found himself liking her, even the stuff that he should despise like how bossy she could be or those damned smirks of her's. Seriously, she could give Snape and Malfoy lessons on how to smirk. Sneers, too, for that matter. She practically embodied Slytherin from her love of mind games, to the plotting, the ambition, and she was definitely cunning, far more cunning than anyone he knew of at Hogwarts.

Instead, he felt like he was bubbling over with happiness. Everything just felt so right, even when it was wrong. Maybe especially when it was wrong. He felt like he was walking on clouds or something and half wondered whether he had been drugged. Harry had never felt anything like it, never wanted to hold a girl and protect her from the entire world. Never wanted to destroy anyone who would dare harm her. The thought of her being hurt or dying filled him with a rage that dipped into madness and it terrified him, the thought of what he might do if he ever lost her or if she rejected him. For the first time in his life, Harry felt like he had no control. Helpless. He was at the mercy of his own emotions and he hated that almost as much as he loved it. He felt completely unprepared for what was happening to him.

"Hello, lover." A voice whispered, causing him to freeze. He knew that voice, knew it nearly as well as he knew his own. Harry turned and saw her, leaned against the wall in such a way that he should have known she was in his room immediately. She still wore the tattered red dress, her was still in the same black braids that he himself used, and her blue eyes were as icy as ever.

"Nimueh." He breathed, instinctively kneeling in the presence of the High Priestess. She was his teacher, his guide, and he respected her far more than he had any Professor at his old school, even Dumbledore.

"Surprised to see me?" Nimueh asked pleasantly, her blood red lips curving up in a small smirk even as her blue eyes glittered strangely. "Yes, I imagine you would be. Imagine my own surprise to find you here, in the nest of our enemy. Oh, you may rise, Hadrian."

"I was drawn here. I know not why." Harry replied honestly as he stood, knowing better than to try to deceive the High Priestess of Morrigan. She was still so beautiful, reminding him of deep clear pools of still water and freezing winters at the same time, but he did not feel the same attraction to her that he used to. There was a time when he had spellbound by her beauty, stunned silent by her grace, and it was still there, but lessened.

"I know why. The girl, the one they call Morgana brought you here." Nimueh stated, walking up to him and standing uncomfortably close. She inhaled the scent of his neck and smiled, trailing her sharp red nails down the side of his face. Satisfaction filled her at his shivering. "Your souls know one another. You were always meant to meet whether it was in this life, the one after, or the one after that. Some things are inevitable, your meeting was not by chance."

"What does that mean? Are we soul mates or something?" Harry asked, knowing that Nimueh did not lie. She believed that whenever one lied they murdered some piece of the world.

"Soul mates? What a silly concept!" Nimueh laughed at the preposterous idea, shaking her head and sending her braids flying yet somehow they landed perfectly back into place. "No, sweet Hadrian, nothing quite so pathetically romantic. Your souls are kindred, they see themselves reflected in each other and, like the Greek Narcissus, fell in love with what they saw. Your destinies are intertwined, not just in this life but all lives. In some, she is your lover, in others a sister, in others still a daughter or a mother, and so on."

"Oh, okay. Now I'm beginning to feel sick." Harry muttered at the disturbing revelation, his pale skin acquiring a faint green tint. He tried not to think on what that made him. Nimueh was very amused by his reaction.

"Silly boy. She is not your kin in this life, your souls are kindred. There is a difference. Get those foolish future ideas out of your head this instant." Nimueh admonished with a smile, patting him lightly on the cheek like one would a dog. "I've come with a warning, my love. Beware of the one named Sarrum, he is an evil man whose cruelty is beyond even Uther's own. He will cause you immeasurable suffering, though I do not know how. Avoid him at all costs.

"Sarrum. Sarrum as in King Sarrum of Amata?" Harry asked, feeling dread enter his gut at the mention of the man. Sarrum was infamous for his wickedness and treachery. He had no honor in him, no compassion at all. In short, he was pure evil and may as well be Voldemort's pre-incarnation. "The impaler of women and children?"

"The very same." Nimueh confirmed, something akin to fear for Harry in her eyes. She cupped his face in both hands. "There is no semblance of mercy in him. Do not draw his eye. Your courage does you great credit, but do not be foolish. Do not seek him out. Promise me this?"

"I promise to not seek out Sarrum, High Priestess." Harry swore, kissing her forehead comfortingly when he realized how deeply her vision had effected her. Nimueh did not show weakness. Ever. For her to show even a hint of fear...

"Thank you." She replied softly, closing her eyes to enjoy his loving kiss. Nimueh knew that he would not lay with her anymore and she mourned that fact, even as she admired his loyalty and envied Morgana for capturing his heart. Oh yes, she knew he loved that girl even if he did not yet understand it himself. She had seen glimpses of their future together, both the happiness and the darkness that awaited them for with the highest heights of love come the lowest sorrow. "It pains me to come with such dark warnings."

"You are doing what you think is right. Never feel bad for that." Harry told her, hugging her to him. He loved her, he truly did, but he was no longer in love with her. Their love had been a brief infatuation, one he would always remember with great fondness. He did not regret it. "Do you require rest? My bed is your's. I'll take the floor."

"No, but thank you. I must be getting back to the Isle of the Blessed." Nimueh denied, glancing longingly at the bed but not because of a need for rest. She made herself smile at him, even as she wanted to cry. "Goodbye, Hadrian, may the Triple Goddess watch over you and bless your future union."

"High Priestess." Harry bowed in respect, opening the door for her. He wished that they had more time to catch up, but he understood that she had responsibilities and certain rituals that had to be perform at specific times, though he did not know if tonight was one of those times.

Nimueh gave one last smile before she walked out of his room, pausing just out of his sight as she waited for the door to shut and her love to retire before she cast a teleportation spell to take her back to the Isle. In a rush of whipping wind that covered her form completely, she disappeared from Camelot and appeared in the ruins that were her home.

When she arrived, she fell back against the altar and sank down to knees. Finally, she let down her mask and sobbed as she hugged her knees. Her heart was broken and she could not find it in herself to hate the woman who possessed his love. It was like Uther all over again, but even worse, more painful. Harry, oh yes, she was one of the few to know his true name, was a kind and good man. Too kind, too good for the cold harsh world. Too good for a bitter creature like herself. It was for the best, she knew that, but it still hurt terribly, an agony beyond physical pain that effected only the soul.

"Oh, Goddess, oh Morrigan help me!" Nimueh choked out, begging for a release from her pain and the heavy chains of destiny that yanked at her. "Guide your priestess in this, my most terrible hour, and grant me the strength to do that which you have decreed! Please, please, please..."

Nimueh wept for what seemed like forever. She had no idea how much time had passed nor any way to know. Had it been minutes, hours, or even most of the night? All she knew was her sorrow and the silence of Morrigan. Her love was no longer her's. He belonged to the girl, to the one who would become her successor. She had foreseen it long ago, but it did not make it any less painful, even though she had tried not to get so attached to him. It was an impossible thing to not love him. He was handsome, idealistic, honorable, and powerful. Kind, oh so kind, and full of love, but with enough hate in his heart to understand her darkness. She hated herself for loving him, for the pain she put herself through despite knowing what was to come.

Her only comfort was that she was not alone, though there was no one else on her island nor to be found within many leagues of her home. Her long fingered hands, the nails a bloody red, crept down to hold her stomach protectively as she allowed her illusion to drop revealing her slightly swollen stomach. She drew her strength from there, from the child growing within her womb. The child was conceived nearly two months earlier during her last visit to Harry, but she had cast a spell to hide his existence, just so the father would not notice when she went to say goodbye. It was their child, conceived of their love, but what terrified Nimueh the most was that she could not foresee her baby's future. Whenever she tried, there was nothing but blankness and the brief feeling of lightning, death, pain, then nothing.

"O' Morrigan, Triple Goddess of Death, of Battle, of Strife, of Albion's sovereignty aid your High Priestess and hear my plea. Protect my unborn child, the child of your High Priestess and your Chosen." Nimueh pleaded in a whisper, her tearful blue eyes staring up into the starry sky with great need and hope. "If need be, take my life in return for my child's safe birth. I give it willingly to you, I do so happily and with no hesitation within my heart! Your answered the plea of your Chosen's mother, please do so for me?!"

No answer was forthcoming and Nimueh fell into weeping again, curling up beside the alter with her arms hugging her belly protectively and sobbing until no more tears would come. Still, she whispered her prayers and pleas endlessly. Her head rested against the cool stone of the altar, now dripping with her tears. In her mind, she saw the flash and heard the crackling, felt the sudden all consuming pain, but this time she saw a face. A boy's face, angular and sharp, twisted by grief and rage with eyes burning gold with magic.

In the distance, Nimueh heard a high keening wail whose sound pierce her soul and made her shiver with terrible fear...

END OF CHAPTER

AN: I worked tirelessly on this chapter for you all, so I hope you enjoyed. I wonder if you readers can actually leave more reviews than the last chapter. Remember that reviews help the story to grow and me develop my skills as a writer, so be generous. Now onto lighter stuff. Next time, Morgana vs. Hermes! Who will win?