"Merlin . . ." Mithian started.

Arthur interrupted. "Tell me that was a trick of the light, because that couldn't possibly have been—"

"Magic," Morgana finished with awe.

"Yes, it was magic," Merlin started, "I have magic."

Arthur drew his sword again and pointed it at the warlock. "How long?"

Merlin raised his hands to the sides of his head. "Excuse me?"

"How long have you had magic?"

Mithian dismounted and walked over to stand in front of her brother. "Stop this, Arthur."

Merlin made a disgusted noise and pulled the Princess behind him. "I've had magic since the day I was born."

"That's impossible."

"Is it? Considering that the man who taught you about magic isn't exactly unbiased toward it."

"Don't insult my father—"

"Arthur," Morgana cut him off. "He has a point."

"What?! No." He lifted the sword, which had begun to droop, to lie at Merlin's throat. "Tell me your plan, sorcerer."

"Oh yes, of course." Merlin looked over at Mithian, who nodded.

"Is she in on this too? Does she have magic?"

"'She' has a name, Prince Arthur," Mithian said with disgust. "And there's no evil plan, nor do I have magic."

"Arthur, my plan . . . my destiny was to come here to Camelot, leave my beloved father and sister, and be your protector. I'm supposed to ensure that you live long enough to become a King legendary for his fairness and sense of justice."

The Prince and Morgana looked taken aback again, but Arthur didn't move his sword. When neither spoke, Merlin continued, "You'll be called the Once and Future King who will free magic, unite Albion, and usher in a golden age of peace and prosperity."

After a moment, Arthur spoke. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Not at all. So now you can kill me, and risk that I'm wrong or you can spare the life of the person who just saved Morgana's."

Morgana strode over to stand next to Merlin. "Come on, Arthur, stop this! He's had plenty of chances to kill us but hasn't. He saved me!"

Arthur's arm wobbled as he appeared to give some thought to their words. The truth was, Merlin had had every chance to kill them, but he hadn't. He even saved Morgana's life. And maybe just the tiniest part of him wanted to impress Mithian. So he lowered his sword and re-sheathed it. The three standing across from him sighed in relief.

"Come on, let's go home. I'm afraid I have to cut our tour short—my father needs to know about bandits being so close to Camelot.

The other three looked a little confused, but re-mounted their horses. Arthur let the ladies ride ahead of him this time so he could speak with Merlin. "I won't tell my father about your magic. Prince of another kingdom or no, he'll execute you."

"Thank you, Arthur. And about the Prince thing—I'm actually not Rodor's son. My father is a Dragonlord your father hunted. We fled to Nemeth because my father knew Rodor. Mithian and I grew up together and consider each other siblings."

"Oh."

"By the way you hurt her and I will call my dragon." That may be a lie since Merlin didn't have a dragon as such but the warlock just hoped Arthur wasn't very informed on the ins and outs of Dragonlords.

"Um, yeah I won't hurt her." Merlin grinned secretly pleased that his small white lie had worked,

"Anyway, we thought it best that I pretend to be Rodor's son. I'm sure you can see why."

"Yeah, it makes sense. Though you still have a lot of explaining to do."

"I know."

"Can you come by my chambers later this afternoon?"

"I'll do that."

They rode the rest of the way in silence, though the ladies in front of them chatted almost nonstop. It was agreed that they'd have a sort of indoor picnic in Morgana's chambers "because we can't waste all that food Gwen prepared." The boys were invited but Arthur declined—he still had to report to his father. Morgana looked a little too pleased at that so Arthur ordered everyone to ride quicker.

Upon reaching the castle, their horses were taken to the stables. Arthur rushed off to speak to the King and Merlin, Mithian and Morgana repaired to Morgana's chambers.

Gwen was there, and when they'd explained the situation to her, she pulled an old blanket from a cupboard and spread it on the floor. They invited her to sit with them and together they consumed most of the lunch. They talked about trivial things until Gwen confirmed that she knew about Merlin's magic. After that, the talked turned to magic and its use.

Morgana confessed to a rampant curiosity of magic. She related about her nightmares and how they came true. Merlin and Mithian looked at each other—could Morgana be a seer? Her mother was Vivienne, after all. They asked her to explain further, if it wasn't too painful for her.

The Lady told them she was fine. She explained how she'd had these dreams since before her father died. In fact, she'd seen her father die in a dream even before he'd left to join Uther's campaign in the north. She told them about other times her dreams had come true, from trivial matters to attempts on Arthur's life. And she confessed that she was afraid her dreams may be caused by magic.

Merlin took Morgana's hand. She smiled up at him and he almost forgot what he wanted to say. He was definitely falling for her. He gave himself a mental slap. "Morgana, it sounds like you're a Seer. Seers see visions of the future that come true unless someone intervenes. The visions are fueled by magic; it's truly a rare talent."

"And I live in the place where I could be killed for my talent." Morgana's head fell.

Mithian reached out to take her other hand.

"You're not alone in this, Morgana. Merlin's here and Gwen knows now. None of us will say a word to anyone else."

"I know magic isn't evil, Morgana. I've known both you and Merlin for years and neither of you are evil," Gwen added.

Merlin tilted Morgana's chin up so she could look into his eyes and see his sincerity. "I won't let anyone hurt you, I promise."

Morgana stared into his eyes for several moments. Mithian noticed the atmosphere in the room shift and decided she'd help it along. She turned to Gwen and said, "Gwen, I wonder if you could see me back to my chambers? I don't think I remember the way back."

"Of course, My Lady," the maid replied after a glance at the other couple. It seemed she had noticed the shift as well.

Merlin and Morgana turned to look at them briefly when Mithian said, "I'll see you two later." She turned and left the room, a smug smile on her face.

Morgana reached up to lay her hand on Merlin's, which was still on her face. "Thank you, Merlin."

"My pleasure. I couldn't see a fellow magic user suffer."

"Is that all there is to it?" Her eyes briefly dipped down before coming back to his.

Merlin's heart began beating faster. "My Lady?"

"Morgana." She corrected instinctively. "And are you only helping me out of a sense of duty, or is there another . . . feeling motivating you?"

"That depends. Do you return this supposed feeling?" Their faces moved closer together.

"And if I do?"

"Then I would be obliged to demonstrate."

"Please."

Merlin used his hand on her face to pull her lips to his—and oh, was it magical! Her lips were as soft as rose petals and her scent was twice as fair. He wasn't sure what to do, so he pressed into her for a long moment before pulling away. Her lips stayed puckered for a few seconds, until she spoke again.

"Thank you." She moved her chair over so that it was next to his and she rested her head on his shoulder.

Merlin moved his hand to cradle the back of her head.

"You're welcome."