It was a struggle, more so than before. A battle was raging within her as she and her horse followed Arthur's shadow to where her brother himself would hopefully be. It was exhausting, the way her magic and her sickness fought for dominance. Sometimes it felt as if her magic would win, other times as if she would be stuck with her sickness until the day she died, but always, always could she feel the sensation of magic burning brightly in her veins, behind her eyes.

When she'd been sick as a child her magic had been but a small creek, a thin thread of gold inside her, suppressed by her own weakness. But since then her magic had grown, it had become a flood, an ocean, a devastating force of its own, and Merlin had trained under Gaius, learnt how to control it, and now she was letting it free, letting it battle the sickness inside her. Oh, it was strong, but so was the sickness that'd almost cost the princess her life when she'd been but a child.

The shadow led the way, and the princess followed, through many a forest and over many a field as the sun shone upon them, and as the stars sang their songs above them. And the late summer gave way for autumn and the leaves fell from the trees, dancing in the wind along the grey curls of Merlin's hair as they rode onwards, for days and months until the day they didn't.

It was a cold day, grey and windy, and the shadow led the horse and his rider through a birch forest, not unlike any other, until they emerged into a clearing. And through the clearing ran a creek, and next to the creek was a little cabin. It didn't look like much for the world, but it seemed well kept and homely enough.

Merlin felt anxious when she laid her eyes upon it, seeing as she had her last encounter with someone living in a cottage in another forest still fresh in her mind, but she couldn't help but hope that maybe her journey was finally over, maybe she'd finally found her brother.

The shadow of the man who was once the prince of Camelot slipped under the door as Merlin dismounted her horse and stood outside indecisive, all the while clutching the ring she bore around her neck.

She felt very self-conscious then, for Merlin knew how she must look. She was no longer the beautiful princess of a faraway Camelot who'd set out to find her brother, she was an old and ugly crone, sick and burdened. She could not tell her brother who she was, and neither could the rest of Camelot ever know her like this. She could still feel an ever-present glow behind her eyes, and she worried her brother had the same stance on magic as their father.

She worried he would reject her, even try to kill her, and for the first time since she'd left Camelot she wondered if maybe she should've stayed instead. Her train of thoughts were interrupted when a golden haired man came storming out through the cabin door, looking so much like the brother she remembered from her childhood that the princess could do nothing but stare at him.

He looked different, of course, older and with a great weight to his shoulders, and there were wrinkles in his face which had not been there before. But he looked regal still, his back straight no matter the hunch of his shoulder, and he looked so painstakingly like her brother that Merlin felt tears well up in her eyes.

Arthur stopped and looked taken aback at seeing a crone and her horse waiting outside his cabin, before looking down to the ground in disbelief where his shadow was once again resting. He looked up again, now with a dangerous gleam in his eyes as he took in the old woman before him.

Merlin could do nothing but watch silently as Arthur's inner turmoil seemed to settle a bit, but to her horror he then unsheathed his sword, holding it out before him and adapting a defensive stance. At least it didn't seem like he was going to attack, always something, Merlin thought darkly.

"What is the meaning of this? Who are you, sorceress?" The former prince asked, suspicion evident in his voice. For a moment Merlin couldn't answer as she rejoiced in once again hearing her brother's voice, no matter the harsh tone or wording.

"I come with greetings from Camelot." She said at last, lost as to what else to say. She winced slightly inwardly as she heard her own voice, thick of unspoken emotion. Oh how many times had she not imagined this meeting with her brother? But yet, when he stood there before her all her words seemed to fail her.

"It was long since I heard that name and longer still since I last was there. It's a godforsaken city which I wish to never visit again. What could people from such a place possibly want me?" The bitterness in his tone was evident, and it hurt to the bone to hear her brother speak so lowly of the place he'd once called home. The place she still called home.

"They want their prince back." Merlin stated, her eyes locking with her brother's. She could see him flinch at the mentioning of his title.

"Who are you?" He repeated, his sword still raised, "Tell me why I should trust you, and tell me why I would ever wish to return to Camelot of all places on earth."

"The princess is dead." Merlin said then, "The kingdom is without an heir and the king isn't becoming any younger." Arthur's face was one set in stone, revealing no emotions at the news.

"Now I see." He said at last, his voice not quite wavering, "Why it is that my shadow has returned to me. But I'd rather live a thousand years alone in the wood while I knew that my sister was well and alive than return to find her dead and gone."

It broke Merlin's heart to hear her brother utter these words. She had to restrain herself as to not tell him how it really was, but she told herself that it was better this way.

The princess could feel her magic swirling inside of her at the her brother's loving words, and were it not for the fact that her eyes already burned so golden, then she'd known for a fact that they would have in that moment. The words, spoken from the heart of her brother, were the final push that was needed and with a cry Merlin felt her sickness leave her body, defeated by her magic and her brother's love for her. She fell in a heap to the ground, then, suddenly unable to stand anymore.

She felt tears form in her eyes, eyes that she was certain were no longer glowing gold. When she looked up from her place on the forest floor Arthur had taken a step towards her, cautiously, with his sword still in his hand.

"What spell have you cast around me, sorceress?" He asked, blue eyes meeting blue, something akin to recognition seeming to pass through the prince's eyes, and Merlin felt a cold hand grip her heart at the possibility that he would recognize her, before the moment passed and whatever she'd seen in his eyes vanished.

"I have cast no spell, Prince Arthur Pendragon." She said. "And even if I had, be a better king than your father," our father, Merlin silently added, "And know that not all magic is evil."

Arthur's tone was softer when he spoke. "I know that."

At this Merlin felt relief flood through her. Arthur would never know who she really was, but maybe, just maybe, he would accept her nonetheless.

"So now that we've established that," she said, "Will you accompany me back to Camelot?"

"Why? You think just because my shadow has returned everybody has forgotten that it has been missing for the last ten years? Do you think that my father has forgotten that I turned to sorcery?!" The last words he shouted.

"The people long for their prince to return." said Merlin, "And as for the king, he is old. I'm sure he would love to meet his son one last time before he leaves this realm. And when he does die, what do you think will happen to the kingdom without their princess or prince there to rule? Camelot would fall into anarchy! Would you really want that to happen?" Merlin was shouting now too.

When Arthur heard these words he seemed to slump down further, like all his energy and anger had left him. He seemed to think for a while.

"I'll come with you to Camelot, sorceress." He said at last, his tone one of defeat. And together they prepared for the long ride back to Camelot, the estranged siblings, he to a place he'd sworn never to return to and she to a place she called home but that would never accept her for who she really was. Weren't they a sight to behold?

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