A/N: Morgana just can't stay away, can she..

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Out of Mind

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Merlin scrambles out of his sheets, alarmed how easily she could weasel her way into Camelot - into his chambers - in the middle of the night. The black mop of hair pops up in the candlelight, eyebrows creeping higher as he sizes her up.

She's always been proud of her looks, but a little reminder can't hurt. Not the slightest.

"How... What are you doing here?" Merlin demands hoarsely. Magic should have warned him of her arrival the minute she cast the spell. Which is why she didn't. Just smiles at him, and explains as if to a simpleton.

"I might be exiled, but you're forgetting the fact that I lived here for most of my life. Don't dare assume you know the tunnels better than I."

Merlin rolls his eyes. Sighs and props on his elbows, recovering from whatever short nap he had managed to grab.

"I mean - it's not even a full week yet."

"I don't have time for your pedantry - we will talk here and now." She sits and smoothes her skirts, again too pleasant when she looks up, "Or is there something else you'd rather be doing?"

Morgana smirks as several colours flash on his face: his conflicts, his plights and doubts. Delicious.

"I don't care about the hour, Morgana," Merlin huffs and glances at the main room in its murky stillness. "It's just - if Gaius woke up..."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that."

His blue eyes grow suddenly very dark, very cold.

"If you... harmed him, in any way - "

Morgana merely tuts, not taking threats from a man in a nightshirt.

"That would be difficult with a simple sleeping spell. Which you should know already, given how many times you tested it on me," she replies with a searing look of her own, then saunters off to the sleeping physician and pokes at his face. The old man stays asleep.

Merlin lets out a slow breath. The fire in his eyes dies. - Settles, rather. Seething silently, like embers. One waft of air and they'll burn again.

Morgana smiles again, increasingly amused by this situation. - Much had changed since the last time. They were on his home terrain now, but she had the upper hand. Make too much noise, and the guards will come. Cause too much scuffle and Merlin will have explaining to do in the morning. She can't imagine he spoke truth about his disappearance. This is Merlin, after all. Hiding is in his nature.

"Did you tell him?" she asks nevertheless, nodding at the old man. He knows what she means.

"No," Merlin answers, looking away. How is has he been faring these days? Same as her perhaps, except worse. What with that moral code he stands for.

"Afraid what he'd think?"

"He mustn't worry." He meets her stare firmly in the dark, the dim glow from his room the only light. Their shadows dance on the wall, the candle flickers. "I meant what I said. I won't let anything bad happen to him."

Morgana straightens visibly. It's a fair warning, one she understands. She's had people close to her, too. Long time ago. How old it makes her sound... Hard and brittle. Like frozen steel.

Merlin's gaze wanders briefly, careful not to linger on the various aspects of her anatomy too long, as if she were naked right this moment. Or perhaps he imagines it so?

Morgana allows herself the tiniest of smiles. But she does no have time for this. Not tonight.

"I did not come all this way for a staring contest." She clears her throat.

Merlin gives a curt nod. He rises, goes to latch the door to bar any more intruders, and takes another chair to the table. Pots and pans and purple liquid clutter the table. Gaius must be in a middle of some experiment. Amazing how much you can accomplish without magic. With sedatives and loads of lies.

Merlin stands by the table, and pulls out a seat for her in mock politeness. She sits like a the lady of court she once was. It's like the old times again. In magic and hiding. Except now, there's Gaius snoring behind them. And no lies left.

Merlin seems too much at ease, using his magic to retrieve a fruit basket. How hard it must be not to use such fluid, innate skill. Does he miss it when he's not using it? Or is he too set on the path of self-loathing to want anything different?

"Apple?" Merlin offers, biting into one.

Morgana keeps her arms crossed. Not need to make it easier on him. "You said soon. What did you mean by that?"

"I want a truce. Not a cease fire. I want you to stop plotting against Camelot."

"And why would I agree to such treaty? What's in it for me?"

"You can name your conditions. There must be something you want."

"You have no power to grant them to me."

"But Arthur does. I can ask him. And you know you can't overthrow him, not as long as I'm here, at his side."

"Even when he finds out about you? Even if he has you exiled and persecuted?"

Merlin has already weighed that option, so he simply shrugs. "I'd do the same, keep fighting for him. Protect him from the distance, whether he likes it or not. I'm not doing this for myself, you see. This is for the good of the realm. You're a warlord, Morgana. You may win battles, but you cannot win hearts..." He trails off, looking somewhere far off. "The people deserve peace and prosperity."

"And of course it's Arthur who'll bring that?" she bites back, hurt.

"It's been foretold."

"I've been told other things. As was my sister."

"Did she tell you about me? Did she warn you about your demise? Much has been averted before. The prophecies will come true, but only if we let it."

"So you're the seer now?" Morgana mocks.

Merlin shrugs again. His eyes linger on her wrist. The bracelet is missing.

She looks at it, too, with a smug grin.

"I've been doing some research of my own."

His eyes twinkle with curiosity, something she won't satisfy but enjoys anyway. A sly grin spreads over her lips, and she's going to leave it like that... for the time being. At least till she figures out what this means. There are many mouths of truth, beyond Camelot and Merlin.

Morgana stands up, secures the cape around her shoulders. It's midnight blue, almost black in this light.

"You're going away?" Merlin sounds surprised, almost... downcast. "Where?"

"It's none of your business, of course," she removes herself from the table, her voice kept cool. "But if you must know, I'll be staying with the Catha."

"If they even want you there..."

Morgana detests explaining herself, but that condescending tone simply sets her off. Or perhaps because if she won't, he will try to follow her and find out what she's up to. And as much as she has lacked company lately, she prefers to keep it that way.

"On the contrary, I am long expected. As the last remaining High Priestess, I'm bound by duty to the Triple Goddess and her followers. The warrior priests of the Catha are our brothers in arms." The mention of that ancient tie makes her feel particularly proud of her cause.

"Oh." Merlin might be Emrys, but his knowledge of the old ways seems limited at best. Even Gaius knows more.

Morgana has no clue why she's told him that. Or why she even cares. She's far above it. Her coming has been but a warning, a harbinger of times to come. He should tremble, not stare back at her like that.

She leans in, anyway. To take something back, to assure herself of what she suspects already. Something he denies.

Always hiding. Ever the pretender.

Dipping her wet mouth down to his own, she steals a few hungry gasps, inviting him to answer in kind. But before he can reach out and touch her, she backs out.

His lips are smeared with her crimson. He's shaking a bit. Morgana straightens to take it all in. The open-mouthed lust he regards her with.

Silent glee trickles deep inside her navel. Her mouth curves in satisfaction:

"For the road."

A/N: I'll be sticking with season 4 for most of the time, so expect more canon events coming up. With a few changes, of course.

This chapter could've been from either point of view, yet very different in tone... Do you prefer Merlin or Morgana as the viewpoint/monologue character, or both, like a balance? As always, I appreciate you reading and your lovely reviews!