Before, the dawn in Camelot was always beautiful, or at least the thing that Uther admired most. The sun had yet to rise but it was not as dark as midnight. What was there not to like? It was relatively quiet, the streets were empty of people who could possibly be sorcerers, or assassins, or, heaven forbid, Druids. Caution was what ran a country, not mercy. He could do away with justice and mercy and the land would still run smoothly, but without caution? Never.

He had not been able to sleep, so he had come to the window to observe the people building the pyre. It was most certainly not guilt that kept him awake, but his anger at magic. Whoever thought that sentencing his old Ward to death would have doused his fiery rage of magic was wrong; if anything, it fuelled it. He was exercising caution, and making a wonderful example to the people: no one was exempt from the laws against magic. If Morgana thought she was, then she was in for a rude awakening. Uther laughed bitterly. Perhaps the girl thought she would be reprieved at the last moment. But this was no jest. Magic was not something to be laughed at; it was something to be stamped out of his kingdom.

Far from being complete, the pyre had only just started. How long ago had it been since someone faced a fate like this? He had built one for Morgana's maid when he suspected her, but his accusation was wrong. Uther did not remember if he even apologised or not. Not that it mattered; the girl was just a peasant. Peasants didn't receive apologies from nobility. The other sorcerers he had executed but death by fire was a particularly painful punishment that Morgana deserved, for lying to him and making a complete fool out of him at court. And practising magic.

Uther's eyes began to shut of their own accord. He snapped them back open, loath to fall asleep. If he slept, who knew what would happen? What if Morgana broke out of her prison and he was sound asleep? That could not, would not happen.

Pulling on a rather large crimson robe, he marched out of his chambers to Gaius' workspace. He knew that there was a shelf that held an array of potions for sleeping problems, and potions that could keep you awake until your next birthday. Well, not quite that long, but once when he had been planning for a battle and needed several days to coordinate his troops as well as formulate a strategy, he had taken an elixir Gaius had created that had kept him alert for the next three days.

He continued down his halls, not caring who he roused from their sleep, because he was, after all, the King. The floorboards creaked and made noises; the castle had belonged to a long line of Pendragons, and none of them had bothered to re-floor the castle. There was too much to be spent on the army, and keeping the kingdom at peace.

Uther hesitated at Gaius' door. After Uther had subjected Gaius to questioning from the Witchfinder, he feared that he had lost the physician's trust forever. Though it had all been the Witchfinder's fault, Gaius seemed to find Uther at fault. It wasn't his fault that he had been fooled by yet another sorcerer! Magic was to blame.

And here was the problem. He was always blamed for the problems magic caused. If only everyone could see magic for the plague it is, he thought.

Shrugging, Uther pushed the door open and slowly walked inside. He made his way to the shelf among a sea of book piles, tables, chairs and containers. Didn't Arthur's manservant live here? He was pathetic at keeping things clean. Uther traced a finger over the table. When he lifted it up, it was coated in dust. He shuddered. At least the dust didn't end up in the remedies.

Suddenly, Uther was nearly bowled off his feet by a large warm object on the floor. On closer inspection, it was Arthur's manservant. Speak of the devil, Uther thought automatically. It was one of those silly things that Ygraine used to love to say, as well as bless you and waste not, want not.

Catching his breath, he studied the boy. What was his name, Merrick, Marvin, Marlin, Marian…Merlin! Merlin had proved to be most useful since the moment he had met him. He had jumped onto Arthur and pulled him to the ground, successfully pushing him from the path of a dagger that was aimed to kill. He'd saved Arthur and this made him not warm to him, exactly, because the boy was a peasant, but at least elevated him above other peasants.

Merlin was slumped over a book, which was open on a page. It was a quite large book but the print was small. He tried to take a closer look but the boy's neckerchief was in his way. He stepped over Merlin and located the appropriate potion. He downed it there and then, leaving the empty bottle on the tabletop so that Gaius could perhaps reuse it. Stepping back over Merlin, Uther left the room to watch the men continue building the pyre.

He remembered that Merlin had also been accused of witchcraft by the Witchfinder, and although Merlin had been the one that had revealed the Witchfinder's ruse, Uther had suspected him.

It doesn't matter, Uther decided. The sorcerers, they all burn in the end.

Merlin inhaled greedily after Uther left. He had fallen asleep over the magic book, but he never expected the King to come barging in and taking a remedy or something. When Uther had walked straight into Merlin, he had woken up and felt his heart jolt. He tried his best not to move or breathe, but the dust in the air made his nose tickle and he desperately wanted to rub his nose or sneeze. That and the pain in his thigh where the King had kicked him made his eyes water.

Actually, it was a stroke of luck that Uther had woken him, because he could now begin his preparations for saving Morgana. He'd stumbled across the spell on the final page of the book, when, in a drowsy stupor, he was so close to just slamming the book shut and giving up. But then he would never forgive himself if Morgana died began he was too sleepy. Now, his biggest problem was executing the plan without a hitch. The only person who knew about his magic, Gaius, would not be able to help him pull the plan off so Merlin would have to do it himself.

If he failed, it would be death for both of them.

Merlin revised the page and then hurried outside. Almost everyone else was in their chambers and so he could slip outside unnoticed. The atmosphere was filled with a quiet expectation. It was disturbing.

He headed out to the main courtyard where they were constructing the pyre, it was underway. The reality of the situation hit him again; there was limited time. Merlin turned his eyes away from the bundles that had only one purpose but to burn. Instead he turned into a little alley where they stacked the barrels and he grabbed one that was on the ground. Merlin nearly dropped it on his foot as he heard a voice from the shadows. "Morning, Merlin."

The figure emerged from the darkness. The very familiar figure draped one arm around Merlin's shoulder. "You couldn't sleep either," Arthur concluded.

"Uh, yeah," Merlin replied, grateful that Arthur had not asked him what he was doing down here. The less people that knew his plan the better. Then at least Uther couldn't accuse Arthur of treason, because this country needed a future King and Merlin didn't know what hideous punishment the King would create for his son. "I decided to come down here because I couldn't stop thinking about Morgana." Merlin winced as he remembered the now dead flowers resting on the bench which he had forgotten to give her. He made a mental promise to buy some new ones and present them to Morgana on Gwen's behalf if he didn't die today.

Stop being so pessimistic, Merlin reprimanded himself.

It's not pessimism. It's wariness, his more rational side replied.

"Neither could I. Merlin?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think I'm like my father?"

Merlin met Arthur's eyes. Arthur's were angry and full of turmoil. "You're nothing like him! You're complete opposites. You're going to be the person that…makes Uther seem like a really bad person," Merlin finished lamely. He had been about to say 'returns magic to Camelot.'

'Makes Uther seem like a really bad person'? Well done, Merlin, his cynical side said. He could almost hear the sarcastic applause.

"What I mean is that you're going to show him up in every aspect. The people will love you."

"Thanks, Merlin. Well, I'd best be getting to the castle for an early breakfast. Otherwise I might run into my father." Arthur's voice was layered with distaste.

"Uh, Arthur. You do know that I haven't made you anything."

"I figured. Don't worry about doing anything today, I don't think either of us will be up to anything today." Arthur grimaced and closed his eyes for three seconds. When he opened them, they were substantially brighter.

"You were always too manly to cry," joked Merlin weakly. He received a thump for going to the trouble of cheering Arthur up but he suspected that his joke had hit its mark. "Well, see you later." Arthur shook his head and wandered off to the palace kitchens; Merlin hoped he wouldn't go harassing the servants for ale or anything like that. In this state, he wasn't sure of what Arthur would do under the influence of a couple of mugs of ale, and Merlin needed this plan to run as smoothly as possible. But at the same time he wanted him to actually eat something. Guiltily, Merlin remembered that he hadn't made Arthur anything last night either. At this rate, Arthur would waste away.

Merlin returned to the task at hand: he lifted open the barrel and checked the contents. It was a greyish dust. Perfect. Not without effort, he rolled the barrel on its side as inaudibly as he could manage, after replacing the top. He began rolling it out into the centre of the courtyard, then to one of the walls enclosing it. When it was in place, he leant against it and fell asleep; he needed to rest for the upcoming challenge that was waiting.

Morgana was roused from her sleep by a hard kick to her stomach. She sat bolt upright in the filthy straw and terrible light, retching as her stomach fought to empty itself of the previous night's meagre dinner. Stale bread and a scrap of cheese. Better to die with that in her stomach than with nothing at all. Morgana got herself under control with a couple of deep breaths, a technique she had learned from Gaius but had always been too panicked to put into practice. Then, she tilted her head upwards to see her attacker. She would not be beaten into submission like a dog.

Another kick, this time aimed to her side made her double over in pain. The boots of the guards were heavy. Of course, Uther had probably instructed him to wear such footwear for the sole purpose of beating her. Morgana struggled to her feet and into a slightly hunched over standing position. "What do you want?" she asked, mustering as much of her dignity as possible. It was amazingly difficult to be dignified in chains and streaked with dirt and God knew what else that was on the floor.

"Are you ready to die, witch?" he taunted. "It's your special day." The guard forcefully shoved her out of the cell. Morgana swung her iron clad wrists towards his corpulent, sweaty face but he deflected the blow with one of his meaty paws. "Don't go trying anything, my lady," he warned. "Or you might not have two eyes to see your pyre being set alight."

"I'm a witch, aren't I? I could have you dead with a snap of my fingers!" Morgana drew herself up and tried her best to look as though she meant what she said, though she was trembling inside at the mention of fire.

"Just try it, princess. Want to see how quickly I can break your pretty little fingers?" He laughed cruelly. "Get a move on before I lose my patience." When Morgana didn't move, he raised his fist.

"Fine, I'm moving! Damn your eyes," she hissed. Silently, Morgana ran down a list of curses she had compiled in her mind for the moment she came face to face with Uther. The disgusting swine he had hired was more than deserving of some of them.

I hope the wine you drink turns to poison in your mouth.

I hope you die and your dust turns to maggots which feed on your spawn.

I hope you suffer a lonely eternity in Hell…

A/N: I rather hope this was worth the wait! :D School, you know.

Anywhoo. Happy Valentine's for the 14th, if I don't get an update in by then!

Are we excited for the next chapter! The very epic scene of Morgana's execution. And thankyou to all my beautiful, wonderful reviews. I love you all to oblivion.