Author's Notes: My reviews didn't only reach 50 but sailed past that number to 60, so I'd like to thank everyone who is continuing to read and review.

In this chapter there is a bit of a surprise, or perhaps that should be shock. I'm hoping not many of you would see this coming. :)

Again, I don't own Merlin.

Chapter Eleven

Surprising Visitors

Gwen and Merlin pushed the door open quietly and glanced in. Slumped in his chair at his desk, Arthur rested his head on the surface, which was covered with parchment... letters, decrees and treaties; the everyday paraphernalia of running a great kingdom.

Behind him, the late afternoon sun streamed through the window, glancing off his blonde hair, shining like the halo of a fallen angel.

The two walked slowly into the room, saying nothing. Perhaps he had fallen asleep; he had, after all, been under great strain this day.

But without lifting his head, he said in little above a whisper, "Please don't scold. I know I was extremely rude to Lady Amena, and I will apologise later..."

Always ready to support her husband, Guinevere interjected. "You are tired, Arthur, and Amena understands, as does Cedric..."

"No, Guinevere! Don't excuse my bad manners." Arthur had lifted his head, and though his skin was pale, his blue eyes blazed. "And I don't feel tired... or not necessarily in the way you mean. I'm tired of being treated with kid gloves, like I really was an invalid."

"Arthur..."

"Don't! Not you too, Merlin," Arthur said, cutting across whatever his friend intended to say. He slouched in his chair, his head lolling backwards to study the ceiling. "I understand I am an... invalid." That word was ground out between his teeth. "I don't like it, but I'm sure in time I'll learn to live with that fact." He sat upright, his back ramrod straight, and faced Guinevere and Merlin. "But please, you should not pardon my childish outbursts when I lose my temper because of it."

"I wasn't going to," Merlin explained, crossing the room and making himself comfortable on the settle by the end of the bed. Obviously, Merlin was becoming used to his new position. "In your temper tantrum, you hit out at a completely innocent and elderly lady, who was about to share some reminiscences of your mother with you. Now, I'm assuming you would have loved that, but you missed out because of your bad behaviour!"

Arthur groaned aloud and knocked his head against the desk's surface again. "You know I would have loved that," he said, his muffled voice bitter-sweet.

"Then you'll be glad to know the lady bears you no ill will and is ready to have that conversation when you are ready," Merlin replied, but not too kindly. Arthur did not need coddling at this moment. "You don't deserve her kindness, but she seems to like you, though I have no idea why!"

"Merlin!" Gwen admonished the one time servant. "Arthur isn't that bad."

"Yes, I am!" The King stood sharply, but for a moment, he held fast to the desk to steady himself. "At least in this case. Lord and Lady Walton are trying to help us, and I risked antagonizing them. I... we can't afford to lose their support."

"And you haven't, Arthur." This from Guinevere, who came quickly across the room to give her husband a well-needed hug.

For a few moments, he buried his face in her sweet-scented curls. Then, raising his head, he stared into her eyes. "I don't deserve your kindness." His hand traced the contours of her cheek, his fingers softly touching her lips. "I'm very probably going to turn into a melancholy, grouchy old man; old before my time."

"My sweet, never think it..."

"Gwen, I'm not sure I can cope with this..." He swept his hand down his body, hovering over the scar where Mordred had stabbed him. "Perhaps it would have been better if I'd died."

"Do not say so!" Gwen reached up and stopped his words with her lips, her kiss lingering until she felt his mouth open under hers.

In the background, Merlin paled. Arthur's reaction was exactly what Kilgarrah and he had feared, but Arthur was needed, injured or whole, he was the king the people looked to. Only he could bring the dissenting nobles round and unite the kingdom. But it was to be expected that he would doubt his capabilities along the way, and it was Gwen's and his job to lend Arthur their strength when his own faltered.

Merlin rose and walked towards the couple. "So, this is the gratitude you show for Kilgarrah's sacrifice?" He spoke harshly, though internally, he shed tears. "He gave all he had to keep you alive because he believed that you, and only you, could reunite Albion and bring magic back to the land. He didn't expect it to be easy for you. In fact, he wondered if you would thank him for your life, such as it is."

The King and Queen stared at their friend, Arthur's eyes stony while Gwen's burned with a protective glow.

Merlin returned their glares, his stature commanding. "In the end, Kilgarrah had faith you would fight with all your remaining vigour for your people and your land, which you have always placed far above your own needs. Was he wrong? Was I wrong to plead for your life?"

"Merlin, what is wrong with you?" Gwen asked, mystified and hurt that her friend should attack the man she loved with all her heart. "How can you suggest such a thing when Arthur is... suffering?"

Arthur's arm tightened around his wife's waist, but he gave the ghost of a smile. "Hush, sweetheart. Merlin has every right to remind me what is at stake when I'm acting like a self-suffering... prat... clotpole? Take your pick, Merlin. I deserve your scorn."

At this Merlin came forward and hugged both his friends... not The King and Queen of Camelot. "Arthur, I promise you I will never scorn you. I might be impatient or even angry sometimes, but you have been and always will be my closest friend, who perhaps needs a little reminding, now and then, that he isn't a useless... cabbage-head."

Arthur laughed aloud, his dejection lifting somewhat, though he was wise enough to know that this faint cloud of depression would haunt his soul from this day forward. He was thankful he had loved ones who would help him through the darker times... and he would endure.

Merlin had the truth of it. Arthur would always rise to the protection of Albion and those who lived within its boundaries.

"How long have we got before dinner time?" he asked Gwen. "Do I have time to repair bridges with Amena and Cedric?"

"I believe so." The Queen smiled as she replied. "I'll send the guards to ask them to attend you."

Raising his eyebrows, Arthur fought down a frisson of annoyance, knowing Guinevere was only thinking of his health. It might frustrate him, but he understood her motives. "Guinevere! I'm the one at fault here, so I think I'm fit enough to go to them." He offered her his hand. "Will you accompany me? Oh, and perhaps you could instruct Geoffrey to rearrange the top table for dinner tonight to accommodate Amena and Cedric."

"I think that's an excellent idea." Her smiled widened as she took his hand and they left the chamber. Seconds later, Arthur's voice floated back into the room from the corridor. "Merlin, are you coming, or do you have somewhere else to be?"


So many nobles had answered Arthur's summons that the state dining room wasn't large enough to cope with the numbers attending the celebratory banquet, causing older, seldom aired rooms to be brought back into use. Myriad servants, helped by guards, swept and dusted cobwebs away, while others scurried about the lower regions of the castle, searching out boards, trestles and enough chairs and benches to cater for all those who were invited to dine, particularly because the royal couple didn't want to leave out the common people.

Neither Arthur nor Gwen, however, were foolish enough to mix the two classes at this point, not wanting to subject the ordinary folk to some of the haughtier grandees' disdain. All of which led to a hectic time in the citadel, but, finally, the arrangements came together, thanks to Guinevere's organizational skills and the dedication of her staff, led by the stuffy but competent George.

Much to his surprise, Arthur found himself enjoying the dinner; his appetite was returning, and with Guinevere and Merlin at his side, he took pleasure in the company of old and new friends.

Earlier, Amena and Cedric had chased his melancholy mood away with tails of Ygraine and a happier, more tolerant Uther. From the time he'd been old enough to notice, Arthur had felt a deep sorrow at being deprived of his mother's love, but, after asking his father a number of times about his mother and being totally rebuffed, he'd learned to keep his thoughts to himself.

So now, he hoarded the stories the elderly Lord and Lady recounted. He learned his father had indeed loved his mother very deeply and had suffered grievously at her death, leaving Arthur feeling even more mystified by what had prompted Uther to make such a chancy bargain to gain an heir.

His own marriage had not yet been blessed by children, and he knew rumours of a barren queen were whispered behind his back, but he would never risk Guinevere's life for any reason, nor would he put her away and remarry a princess, as had been mooted by some of his more mercenary councillors.

He loved Guinevere with all his heart, and if fate didn't grant them the gift of children, then he'd be content to remain childless... Yet he knew Guinevere fretted.

But tonight was a time for thanksgiving. Camelot's army, with the help of Merlin, had chased away the Saxon threat for some time, hopefully, and Morgana was gone, though only the gods knew where. All the inhabitants of the kingdom were safer now than they had been for many years. The sense of relief and freedom was heady, and Arthur was as drunk on it as any of his subjects.

With the dinner over, he suggested his entourage visit the courtyard where the rest of Camelot's citizens were enjoying free food and drink. The night air was slightly chilly and the group donned their cloaks, before making their way outside to watch as the towns' folk ate and drank, and sang and danced away the dark hours. There was no doubt in any of the royal party's minds that commoners understood how best to celebrate.

Merlin felt a sudden rush of sadness as he remembered one of Camelot's foremost carousers, the irrepressible Sir Gwaine. How he would have loved this night! Glancing at his king, he saw the same despair mirrored in Arthur's eyes. Yet Gwaine wouldn't wish them to grieve over much for him. He would rather they lifted a tankard of ale in his memory, and with that thought in mind, Merlin descended the stairs and asked one of the servants to fetch a jug of ale and beakers.

It was while he was watching the man thread his way through the crowds to the barrels that a wave of foreboding overcame him. It slammed into him with the strength of a lightening bolt. Merlin's knees buckled, and he grasped desperately at the tall statue of one of Arthur's ancestors, astride his horse, in full battle regalia.

"Merlin!"

He heard Arthur's warning shout and knew succour was at hand, but his voice froze in his throat as his gaze travelled this way and that through the throng to the archway of the quadrangle. What or who he saw there, chilled him to his bones. How could this be? It wasn't possible!

"Merlin?" This time, Arthur spoke close by his ear, and he felt his sovereign's arms struggle to lift him up.

Arthur was the first to reach Merlin, but Leon was close on his heels.

"Please, Sire, let me?" Leon took Merlin's weight, but Arthur didn't let go.

"What's wrong?" The tone of Arthur's voice betrayed his anxiety. Had he too shared Merlin's feeling of misgiving?

But time did not stand still, and over by the entrance way it was clear some kind of altercation was unfolding. The guards were gathering around a slender figure who was intent on making its way into the citadel. The noise from the revellers was over loud to hear what was being said, but it was obvious the sentries were intent on restraining the woman... for a woman it was.

Merlin sensed her with his mind's eye and as a gap opened in the crowd for a few moments, Arthur saw her.

In unison they spoke...

"Morgana?"


Inside Arthur and Gwen's chambers, The King paced the floor, his hands fisted and his teeth biting into his lower lip, almost bringing blood.

"How is this possible?" He asked to the room in general. "I saw Merlin stab her with Excalibur. She died! I know she did!"

Guinevere hovered, looking as if she wished to follow in his footsteps, but knowing he would find her concern oppressive. Besides, she had no answers to give.

The only person brave enough, by dint of his age, spoke up. "Arthur, no one knows the answer to your question, but if you will have patience, Merlin, Leon and Percival will bring her here and perhaps we will learn the truth." It was the only advice Gaius had to offer.

The moment it had been established the woman demanding to enter the citadel was Morgana, or a very close reproduction of her, Leon and Percival had been sent to restrain her physically, while Merlin would take care of her magic powers, and in this, Iseldir had volunteered to help.

Arthur had instructed them to bring Morgana, if it really were she, to his private chambers by the underground passageways, since the castle was overflowing and he didn't want the knowledge that the High Priestess might still be alive to become public. Then he, Gwen and Gaius had hurried inside to await the confrontation.

Lord and Lady Walton had sensed some mystery was unfolding, and with discretion, which seemed so characteristic of them, they had retired to their room.

"Arthur, we don't know that it was Morgana," Gwen said soothingly. "It was dark, and crowded... and we only caught a glimpse. Perhaps it was just someone who looked like her."

Turning on his wife, Arthur pointed a finger. "No! You saw how Merlin reacted. That was no ordinary woman." He spoke roughly, then realising he was poking his finger in his wife's face, he drew back. "Sorry! I didn't mean to... Sorry!" Then he was off pacing again. "Why are they taking so long?"

But Guinevere had no fear of her husband, and she caught his arm as he passed her. "Arthur, stop! You ordered them to bring her here privately, which means they have to use the tunnels, then try to navigate the public corridors discreetly. There are still lots of people milling about, so that won't be easy. As Gaius has already told you, you must be patient."

Arthur stared defiantly for a few seconds before the fight went out of him. This night was not ending as he expected... as anyone expected, and Guinevere must be as upset as he, plus she was worried about his health. That latter fact might dismay him, but he knew her anxiety was born of love. Besides, he had to stop hitting out at others for his own failings.

"You're right! But you know patience was never one of my best qualities." He smiled contritely and let her lead him to his chair. There was a few moments of silence, till Arthur asked, "Why is she here? Alone? Has she an army out there, just waiting to attack us again?"

"I doubt that, Sire." Gaius also sat down, his joints were aching and he was as anxious as the young couple, but he would lend them his council as long as he had breath to do so. "You've doubled the patrols and the guards, as had Leon before you returned, plus the escorts who are riding to the towns and villages. I'm sure they would have sent back messages if they had discovered an enemy war band. If this is Morgana, she seems to be on her own."

"Gaius, is it possible she could have an invisible army with her?" Guinevere gave a derisive gasp at her crazy question, yet she knew how powerful Morgana was. Hadn't she fallen under her enchantments a number of times?

Morgana, her one time friend had turned her into a doe, so that Arthur would kill her in the hunt... and there had been the tower, with those horrendous roots... and the screaming. The things she had been made to do. No! That wasn't right; that was a nightmare, wasn't it? Gwen's nerves were stretched so tightly, it was difficult to tell what was real and what was fantasy when it came to Morgana.

"Gwen, I doubt that even a High Priestess could hold a spell so powerful to hide an army for any length of time." Gaius fervently hoped that were true.

There was a noise from the corridor outside and Leon could be heard commanding the guards to prevent anyone from entering the chambers. Then the door opened and five people entered the room, the one in the centre heavily cloaked.

The figure drew nearer, pushing off her hood, then, suddenly, she was throwing herself at Arthur. Everyone moved to intercept, but they were too shocked and Morgana was too fast.

"Arthur, oh thank god! I was so scared." Her dark eyes shown stark between the tumbled black tresses of her hair. "I was kidnapped by this terrible man... a sorcerer, I think. Thank goodness I have found my way home." She collapsed by his side and laid her head in his lap, sobbing helplessly.

Arthur sat there like a rock. His first instinct to comfort his sister died quickly, replaced by distrust. What game was Morgana playing this time? His eyes went straight to Merlin, silently questioning.

Slowly, Morgana became aware of her brother's awkwardness. She raised her head, her skin paler than death.

"Arthur, what has happened. Where is Uther?"

No one answered. No one knew how to answer.

Morgana's glance strayed over the others in the room, her eyes widening when she noticed Gwen, but she said nothing as her gaze continued to Merlin. In the light of the many candles, she appeared disconcerted by their changed apparel.

But she chose to ignore her discovery, and standing, she swung back to her brother, while her hands gripped his arms. "Arthur! Tell me! What has happened to Uther?"

Sir Leon stepped close behind her, his hand on the hilt of his sword. "Unhand The King!" His voice cut like a knife, though he did not draw steel.

Her thin fingers withdrew, like a feral cat sheathing its claws. "King? You are King?" Once more she stared at each occupant of the room. "King Arthur?"

"My father died, Morgana." Arthur forced the words out. "Though I'm sure you know that very well."

Morgana backed away. "No. No!" Her voice was a whisper, yet everyone could hear. "How could I know? I was taken!"

Gaius walked forward. "You would know, Morgana, because you were instrumental in his death." His voice was colder than the ice of the North lands.

Yet these words caused Arthur to frown as well as Morgana. "Odin had my father killed," Arthur stated. "Actually, he sent an assassin to kill me, and my father sacrificed his life for mine."

"And you couldn't save him, Gaius?" Morgana asked, her whole bearing woeful.

"Nothing could be done," he replied. "The knife had reached his heart."

Arthur continued to frown, looking at Merlin... remembering. "I even asked a sorcerer to help... yet he died anyway."

"A sorcerer? For Uther?" Morgana straightened her shoulders, her chin lifted. Once more she was the haughty ward of Camelot, despite her shabby clothes. "Arthur, what were you thinking, letting someone with magic near your father? The sorcerer killed Uther."

"Sorcery did kill Uther," Merlin agreed with Morgana, though his honest stare never left Arthur. "But Dragoon was not to blame. Another's hand had placed a pendant around Uther's neck; a pendant bound to the dark side by your enchantment, Morgana. However strong the healing spell Dragoon cast, its effect had the opposite result. You and Agravaine made sure The King would die."

Morgana's skin was naturally pale, but at these words she turned ghostly. "What are you talking about? I have not seen nor spoken with Agravaine since I was a child." She looked down at Arthur to see his jaw set firm and his lips narrowed. "You can't believe such slander." She stretched an appealing hand out to her brother. "Arthur, I fear Merlin is no longer a friend to us. Arrest him!"

At last Arthur rose, though he felt his legs tremble beneath him. "Morgana, Merlin is my friend, a closer friend than I ever knew. It is you who is the enemy..."

"That's not true!" Morgana cast herself upon Arthur's chest once more. "You're like a brother to me. You're my family. How could I ever betray you or Uther?" When Arthur remained unmoved, she turned to Guinevere. "Gwen, help me, please. You were always more than my servant. You must know I would never hurt you... any of you."

Standing unnoticed on the edge of the group, Guinevere had scarcely breathed, as panic seethed in her stomach. "How can I believe that when you contrived to have me burnt as a sorcerer? You say you were kidnapped, yet you abducted me! My brother died because of you..." Guinevere's hand covered her mouth, while her eyes flew to her husband. "Arthur, Elyan died in that tower. He died trying to rescue me."

Arthur was by Gwen's side in seconds, his hands sliding around her waist.

"But it was supposed to be you!" she cried, her voice rising in hysteria. "I was the bait."

Pulling her closer into his arms, Arthur tried to comfort his wife. "I know, sweetheart. It was another one of Morgana's plots..."

"But, Arthur, you don't understand," Guinevere wept inconsolably. "I... I think I wanted it to be... you." And at that terrible admission, she fainted directly into Arthur's embrace.

Merlin and Gaius rushed to take Gwen from Arthur, who allowed them to carry her to the bed, though he followed close behind.

"What's wrong with her?" he asked, chafing her hands which felt so cold.

"The Queen is over-wrought, Sire." Gaius, as ever, remained outwardly calm. "These past few days have taken their toll on her constitution, and now... Morgana's return has proved too much of a shock. She has merely fainted She'll recover soon." Except, the physician didn't totally believe his own diagnosis. He was afraid Gwen was regaining her memory.

"Queen?" Morgana said, walking towards the group by the bed, though shadowed by Leon and Percival. "So you had the courage to marry Gwen after all. That's wonderful news. I'm so happy for you both." A delighted smile warmed Morgana's face.

As Arthur sat by his wife's side, he frowned at this stranger, who claimed to be Morgana. For the life of him, he couldn't fathom her out, yet he prayed Merlin could keep them all safe from her enchantments.

Indeed, Merlin moved between the royal couple and the witch. "What game are you playing now, Morgana?" His stance was that of the powerful warlock above Camlann plain, though his visage was his own; a young man much saddened, yet not bowed down by all he had witnessed. "Have you not caused enough death and destruction to last all our lifetimes? Be gone from here, Morgana. I will not allow you to harm another soul."

From the shadows, Iseldir came to support Emrys. "Nor I. I may not have your powers, High Priestess, but I stand with Merlin and Arthur, and all that Camelot will become."

"As do I," Percival said, circling around behind Morgana.

"And I," Sir Leon agreed. Though he wasn't yet convinced of Arthur's vision for the future, there was one thing he could be sure of; he would back Arthur against Morgana Pendragon any day.

Lady Morgana's confused stare rested on each of her accusers in turn, yet she remained perfectly still, afraid to move lest she be attacked. "Why are you doing this?" she asked, panic rising in her voice. "Why would any of you bear false witness against me? You are my friends... my family!"

"Not any longer. Whether you are pretending, or really have lost your memory," Arthur intoned, his voice jaded. "The fact remains that you did commit every crime we have mentioned... and so many more."

"No, not me! Perhaps someone who resembled me. Yes, that must be it!" Morgana warmed to her theory. "Morgause created a copy of me. Perhaps she was the one who had me kidnapped, and she left a changeling in my place."

"There is no evidence to corroborate your speculation," Merlin spoke out against her, once again. "Over the last few years, we have all suffered at your hands."

"You are guilty, Morgana. There is nothing you can say or do that can excuse your crimes." Arthur endorsed Merlin's words.

"That can't be so. I would remember!" Morgana stepped back, only to come into contact with Percival's large, immovable frame. Like a scalded cat, she retreated from him. "I would remember," she repeated, but whether with conviction, or simply wishing it to be so, the others in the room could not be sure. "I have committed no crimes!"

"Yet you are known to the Druids as a High Priestess of The Old Religion; a High Priestess who has wielded her powers unjustly and unmercifully," Iseldir explained, trying to maintain his patience "Like you my people have magic, but we cannot condone how you chose to use your gifts. You have fallen far from grace."

Morgana regarded the Druid with disgust, yet she wrung her hands together. "Arthur, who is this old rogue, and why would you believe him over your own foster sister? Didn't we grow up together? You, of all people, must recognise I am being incriminated..."

"Enough, Morgana!" Arthur's barked command was that of a war lord on a battlefield, causing Morgana to cringe. "I know they do not bear false witness because I have seen with my own eyes the atrocities you have committed."

"You are mad! All of you," Morgana declared, though her eyes darted around as though seeking an escape.

"No," Arthur answered, weariness seeping into every muscle, sinew and bone of his body. "I suspect you might be the only mad person within this room. Take her away; I can no longer look upon her."

Suddenly, Morgana slumped, looking like a forlorn child. "But where will I go?" she asked in a small voice. "Camelot is my home."

"Camelot has not been your home for a very long time," Arthur said, rising again to face her. "You only want to destroy everything that is good about this kingdom. We have stopped you before, and we will do so again." The King stared silently, for a long moment, at the half-sister he had once loved without condition before taking a deep breath. "Yet I'd rather keep you here where I can see what you are up to. Leon, Percival, escort Lady Morgana to the cells." But even now, he could not bring himself to treat her callously. "Make sure she is comfortable and treated with common courtesy. I will not sink to her level."

"Arthur, please! Don't do this," Morgana begged, and though her voice was shrill, it was not maniacal. "You can't!"

"But I can, Morgana, and you have only yourself to blame," The King said with little rancour, waving his hand in dismissal.

Both Leon and Percival bowed their heads, then placing their hands on Morgana's shoulders, they led her from the room.

Once more, Iseldir approached Arthur. "Sire, I believe I should accompany them. I have magic enough to ensure Morgana's prison is secure from counter spells, at least."

"Thank you, Iseldir. I am in your debt." Arthur nodded tiredly to the Druid as he hurried after the knights.

When the door closed, Arthur could still hear Morgana calling his name, though the sound faded as she was marched farther away. He gulped and found he was fighting tears. He must be weaker than he'd thought. Wearily, he turned to Merlin and Gaius. "What in heaven's name was that all about? Is that really Morgana come back to life... and, if so, has she lost her wits, or have we?"

"Sire, perhaps we could leave the questions till tomorrow," Gaius suggested, though, truth be told, he wasn't sure he knew any answers. "We are all exhausted, and we have to bring Guinevere round."

"You said she would be fine." Now worry for his wife sharpened Arthur's words.

"And she will. Merlin, can you pass me my medicine bag, please?" Merlin did as he was bid, and within moments Gaius held a pungent smelling vial beneath Gwen's nose.

Almost immediately, Gwen stirred and tried to sit up. She uttered a stifled groan, and Arthur was quickly sitting by her side once more.

"Lie still, Gwen," Gaius advised. "You fainted, and you might still feel dizzy."

But The Queen paid no heed, her dark eyes searched the room before coming to rest on her husband. "Morgana was here?" she asked, clasping his hand as if he were her only anchor in the tempest. "It wasn't a dream?"

With his free hand, Arthur smoothed Guinevere's hair where it had come undone. "I'm afraid not. Though I'm sure we all think we're reliving a nightmare. I know I do."

"Nightmare? I have nightmares," Gwen confessed lifelessly, glancing at the three anxious people about her.

"That's not surprising, my dear." Once again, Gaius tried to console and misdirect. "We have all been through a great trauma." He touched the side of Gwen's neck, checking her pulse, then lifted her chin as he stared into her eyes. "You don't have a fever, your pupils are clear and your pulse is strong. As your physician, I recommend a good night's sleep. Let me give you a sleeping draught. It will keep your bad dreams at bay."

"And my waking nightmares?" Uncharacteristically, Gwen sounded somewhat sarcastic.

"The product of a tired and anxious mind, Gwen." Gaius rummaged through his bag again and produced another of his glass bottles filled with a golden liquid, but Guinevere looked at Arthur before accepting it.

"What is it?" Arthur asked his physician.

"Only an infusion of valerian; enough to induce sleep, but not enough to harm," Gaius explained. "Perhaps you would like some yourself, Sire."

"I think I take enough when I have to swallow Merlin's concoction twice a day, and yes, before you ask, Merlin, I took it before the banquet."

The trio watched as Gwen swallowed the potion.

"Would you like me to send for Gwen's serving girl?" Merlin asked, backing away from the bed as The Queen's eyelids began to droop.

Arthur rose, but stayed close by Gwen's side. "No, that won't be necessary. I know you think I'm totally hopeless, but I have undressed my wife before."

Merlin's eyebrows raised, while Gaius gave a little laugh, which he quickly bit off at Gwen's startled comment.

"Arthur!"

Arthur had the grace to blush, but he didn't back down. "Good grief, we've been married for years. Don't you think I've learned a thing or two about women's apparel in that time?"

A smirk twitched Merlin's lips. "Obviously you have hidden talents, but I don't think Gaius nor I need to know the details."

"Good, that's settled." Arthur led them away from the bed, as Guinevere sat rather unsteadily on the edge. "I'll be with you in a moment, sweetheart. Don't do anything," he instructed, as he watched his wife already start to sway. "I'll bid you goodnight, Gaius. Merlin, could you check in with Iseldir to make sure Morgana is still in custody?"

"Did you read my mind?" Merlin asked with a touch of humour. "Then I'll await you in my chamber. I'm assuming you'll want to talk just as soon as you have Guinevere settled."

"Clearly you read mine!" Arthur came back, just as audaciously.

"Sire, I'm not sure that's such a good idea," Gaius interrupted. "You also need to rest. The Grand Council starts tomorrow in earnest."

"I'm sorry, Gaius, I haven't forgotten, but do you really think I could sleep, knowing Morgana has returned from the dead. We need to learn what her agenda might be."

"I understand," Gaius said, resigned. "Just try not to stay up all night... either of you. Even kings and warlocks need to sleep." And with that final instruction, and a pointed look at Merlin, he hobbled slowly away. He was getting too old for all this intrigue.


Friends, that is this week's offering, and on the correct evening this time. What do you think of Morgana's return? I'd love to know your thoughts, so please leave a review if you can.