PREVIOUSLY ON: MERLIN

"The Dolorous Tower? That's where you've kept him locked up all the time. The Tower of Darkness?" Caradoc exclaimed, enraged.

"So cold…so dark…" muttered Balin, his eyes opening slightly. His disposition was that of a frightened child. He began to huddle into a fetal position, hugging his knees in fear, shutting his eyes and muttering.

"Your name shall not be Caradoc as mine is. Your name shall be Erec, a name of a commoner, for that is all you are to me now." Caradoc's father said.

"I will have to inform Arthur of Caradoc's honour when we return to Camelot. He was a fine knight," Balan said, then, clapping his brother on the back, he turned him towards the forestry. "Come, let us make haste. We have Caradoc's horse, which you can ride."

Balin followed his brother, mounting Caradoc's horse and smiling at the other knights whom he did not know very well. Once he was safe within Camelot's walls, he would not fail his Lady.

He watched the lords' faces shift from passiveness to expressions of confusion and then realization. "I thank you for your services but now I am releasing you from your duties as members of the Board, for the Board will no longer exist."

EPISODE SIX:

HIS DEMONS

Part 1

It's dark inside, where my demons hide

The sun hung in the sky, surrounded by puffy clouds. The path which the horses' trotted on was worn from other travellers. The horses ears perked at the sounds of the forest, detecting the sounds of rabbits, squirrels and other animals. The tweeting of the birds were melodic to their ears. Mounted on their back sat two women dressed in the finest of materials, laughing and talking as if they had known each other forever.

"And so, I told Arthur that if he didn't give back my comb, I would run to Uther who would have him spanked. Arthur hated spankings," Morgana said with a smile on her face. "I wouldn't know. I was such a little angel, Uther never had me punished."

"You were a devilish child," Guinevere replied, laughing, envisioning a young Morgana and Arthur playing and rowing.

"I was. Poor Arthur took the blame for my crimes more times than I can count. But considering what a pompous ass he was before Merlin showed up, I regret nothing. Only that I didn't lower his ego more," Morgana told her.

Guinevere groaned in remembrance of when Arthur had preyed on poor victims such as Merlin just because he could. "I can't imagine what it must have been growing up with him."

"When he was younger, I could manipulate him easily but as he grew up, he became more and more supercilious. He loved being prince," Morgana explained, rolling her eyes at the last sentence. "But I shouldn't plague with such stories about your husband. Was Elyan a better brother than Arthur?"

"Better in some places and worse in others. He was always looking out for me and helped me when I asked. But he was far too protective, especially after Mother died. I couldn't even go outside to pick berries without his supervision," Guinevere responded. "Then he left. I was a teenager. He told me he had to make his own way. He always wanted more. The life he had wasn't good enough." Her voice turned mournful. "I missed his protectiveness after he left."

"You must be proud of him, a Knight of Camelot."

"I am."

They sat in comfortable silence as they continued their ride. Guinevere took a turn onto a less worn path and Morgana followed. This is nice, thought Guinevere. She had missed Morgana's company. As her maidservant, Guinevere had spent countless hours sitting with Morgana and chatting about the events which occurred around the palace. Morgana had such a way with words. Her accent was lilting and the way she told stories trapped you in her words.

"Thank you for coming with me," Guinevere broke the silence.

"It is no problem. You shouldn't have to go to your father's grave alone or with a bunch of guards," Morgana replied kindly.

"I appreciate it."

They followed the path for a few more minutes until Guinevere reigned her horse and dismounted, tying her horse to nearby tree. Morgana following her. Tom's grave was a pile of neatly placed rocks on top of a grassy field. Guinevere picked a flower from nearby and placed it on the mound. Morgana stood beside her, ready to comfort her if need be.

"This was my fault," Morgana admitted. "I gave him the keys to escape."

"He was to be executed the next day. You gave him a chance," Guinevere replied, placing a hand on Morgana's shoulder gently.

"I should gone with him. To help," Morgana said sadly. "I could have saved him, like so many others."

"You can't change the past Morgana, no matter how hard you try," Guinevere told her, meeting her sea-green eyes. "You can only live for today."

Morgana sighed. If she had only changed her ways sooner, she hadn't allowed the darkness to infect her…everything could have been so much different. She took a shaky breath. "You are right," she laughed harshly. "I shouldn't be pitying myself, not here."

They turned back to the grave as Guinevere took a few moments to reminisce about her father. He had been a good man, gentle and kind. He had taught her so many things that she still applied to her life today. He would be proud of her, at least, she hoped he would have.

Suddenly, the horses neighed loudly, beginning to pace and tug at their ropes. Morgana took a quick sweep around the area. The horses sensed someone else, someone who meant harm. If there was one thing she'd learned in her past years, horses always knew when something was wrong. Seeing nothing, she turned back to the grave, still keeping her eyes and ears alert. She turned to Guinevere.

"I think we need to go," Morgana said quietly, giving her a "trust-me" look.

Guinevere nodded and they headed back to the horses. She trusted Morgana. She'd seen what Morgana was capable of magic-wise and she had no doubt that she could protect her.

As soon as they had untied the horses, there was sudden rustle behind them and both of them were thrown backwards, heads colliding with the ground with enough force to knock them both out.

A man stood above them, a dark cloak behind him. His eyebrows narrowed into a scowl and his face seemed looked as though he'd never smiled in his life. The sparse amount of hair on his head was greying and his beard wrapped tightly to his oval face. He rubbed his hands together, whistling. Four men emerged from the forest, all wrapped in green cloaks.

"Get them on the horses, we're taking them back to camp," he ordered and the men scrambled to do his bidding. He looked at Morgana as she was hoisted on the horse. "Most powerful witch ever, my ass."

Morgana came awake to find a man staring at her with an expression of both lust and superiority. He had a scruffy dark beard that surrounded his thin lips which were pulled in a smile of sick delight. His eyes were grey, tinted with a light green and a few brown curls of his hair swept over his forehead. A harsh laugh escaped him as he grabbed Morgana's hair, fingers intertwining themselves, nails scratching at her scalp.

"Look what we have here," he said in a gloating tone, "the Wicked Witch of Camelot. Not so scary when you're on your knees." Morgana looked up at the man, insulted and angry, her magic building up inside. She was about to rebuke him when she recognized the proud, confidence face before her.

"Alvarr," she practically spat as he removed his hands from her hair. "Where the hell am I? And what the hell am I doing here?" She shut her eyes, trying to find the magic within her. She could feel but she could not release it.

"There's a bracelet on your arm. It blocks your magic. It cannot come off, only by true love's kiss and we both know that no one in their right mind could possibly love you."

"How dare you!" she shrieked. "I will cut you open and spill your innards and feed it to the crows."

"Tsk, tsk," Alvarr said mockingly, "what language for a lady."

"What do you want Alvarr? I know this isn't a social call," she growled. Her hands were tied behind her back and she was leant against a dark, towering tree in a secluded area. She could hear the bustle of people in the distance. Guinevere couldn't be far.

"To talk," he said as politely as he could muster.

She snorted in disbelief. "You never want to just talk. There's always a reason for your endless chit-chat."

"Ah, you know me well," he replied. "Tell Morgana, do you still feel it?"

"Feel what?"

"The attraction between us," he whispered dramatically, raising his eyebrows for affect.

She could have vomited. What she had ever seen in him before was beyond her. "What attraction? All I feel is repulsion."

Alvarr put a hand to his chest, above his heart. "I am wounded, fair lady. You were much more pleasant the last time met you. What happened?"

"I grew up," she snarled at him. "Now tell me what you want."

"Nothing special really, just your loyalty to the Rebel Druids," he told her nonchalantly.

"My loyalty is to King Arthur and Camelot," she replied coolly.

He looked taken aback, "You were singing a different tune a few years ago."

"That was a long time ago. Things have changed."

"I can give you the freedom you've always longed for. You can be yourself in my presence," his voice was sickly sweet and to some, more daft woman, he would have sounded almost romantic but he was talking to a woman who had gone through more than he could have ever imagined; lost everything and took everything back.

"Arthur will give me freedom. In fact I have it already. I am free to roam the castle, to do what I like. I can even use magic," she replied.

"But not in public," Alvarr pointed out. "Arthur doesn't trust you that much."

"No, he doesn't trust the people. He doesn't want them to react badly. They've lived for years without magic. You can't suddenly allow it to be practiced freely overnight. The people can't adapt that easily."

"Then we make them adapt," Alvarr retorted viciously, sensing a losing battle.

Morgana laughed at him. "Forcing it on them will do nothing. Ruling through fear only works temporarily. The moment they have a chance to be rid of you, they take it."

Alvarr sighed, shaking his head. "I thought you would see reason. Unfortunately, it seems there is no other option."

"What are you talking about?"

"You are of no use to us now," he took a step back, from her. "You need to die."

"What do you mean she isn't back?" Arthur demanded, pacing in a circle, breathing heavily.

"The guards saw her leaving the palace to visit her father's grave with Morgana a few hours ago, she hasn't been back since and the sun has begun setting," Merlin explained. He too was worried for both Guinevere's and Morgana's safety. If they didn't come this evening, something was very wrong. Morgana wouldn't let herself or Guinevere be captured, her magic was too powerful.

Arthur brought his hands to his face in a prayer-like position, letting out a deep sigh. "I want search parties out this instant. If they cannot find them, both you and I are going to find them."

"Yes sire," Merlin gave a quick bow before turning on his heel to carry out Arthur's orders.

"Merlin," Arthur called. "I'm sorry we never got to announce your promotion. Things have been a bit stressful with Gareth and Griflet and now the war," Arthur looked down at his toes. "I just want you to know…I'm thankful you're always here when I need it."

A grin broke out on Merlin's face, "Does that mean I can have the night off?"

Arthur snapped back to his arrogant demeanour. "Of course not. I want my clothes washed, my sword sharpened and my armour polished by tomorrow."

Merlin sighed before turning to leave again. "I guess some things never change."

After Merlin had finished the duties Arthur had tasked him to completely, he collapsed on the bed, hoping for a good sleep. His sleep was dreamless and peaceful until the door to his bed room was banged open. Merlin sat up, hugging the sheets to his bare chest. The light of the night fell on the lone soldier, bloodied and beaten, who stood at Merlin's doorway, panting, a terrified look on his face.

"What is it?" Merlin asked, lifting the sheets from his body and then pulled a shirt over his head and stood.

"Sir, this is for you," the soldier stretched out a blood-soaked hand, a piece of parchment in his hand. Merlin took the paper from the soldier; as soon as he did so the soldier collapsed to the ground, a dagger sticking out from his back.

To whoever this may concern,

Queen Guinevere and Morgana are safe at my camp. Follow the soldiers to our location tomorrow morning with the following items and we may consider giving Guinevere and Morgana back in one piece: 100 pieces of gold, 250 pieces of silver, 25 sharpened swords, 15 bows, 90 arrows. Meet me in the tent. You'll know which one.

Be there by noon or you'll find Guinevere and Morgana's heads instead.

Merlin froze at the last line. Not only were they threatening the life of his Queen but to threaten Morgana…someone would pay for this. He had to keep a cool head though, letting his emotions rule him in this situation would not help him, no matter what his feeling were to Morgana at this point.

Remembering their telepathic connection, he reached out to find her. He found her but she was so far, he could hardly sense her there at all. He attempted to talk to her but was met by a barrier blocking his words from reaching her. He let out a groan of frustration and turned his energy to contacting Mordred.

I can't reach her, Mordred, he said desperately.

Hold up, what? came Mordred's quick response.

Morgana! She and Gwen are missing. I tried talking to her telepathically but I can't reach her.

Wait? You could sense her but couldn't connect to her?

Yes, Mordred…I need to know where she is. Her life is endanger as is Gwen's.

Merlin, think. If she had her magic, she'd be able to escape whoever was holding her captive but if Gwen's there. They're probably using her as leverage against Morgana.

But why can't I talk to her?!

Because she doesn't have her magic, Merlin! You are letting your affection for her cloud your mind. If you would think with logic, you'd come to this conclusion. You may be the most powerful sorcerer but you have ability to undergo logical thinking don't you?

Aren't you worried?

Of course I'm worried, came Mordred's sharp reply. My gods, he really is thick sometimes, thought Mordred. If she doesn't have magic, we are dealing with some very powerful people. People who know about magic and managed to get their hands on a device to stop a magician from using it.

We need to find her. I need to tell Arthur. Thank you Mordred. I'm sorry I overreacted…I just…I care about her.

I'd never guess, Mordred replied cheekily. Go on, go save your damsels in distress together.

Don't let Morgana hear you call her that. She'd skin you alive.

I won't. Good luck Merlin. I trust you won't need me for this mission or anyone else.

Thank you Mordred. He was right. He had to push aside his feelings for Morgana and focus on thinking logically about who would do this, why and how. He looked down at the bloodied body on the ground.

"Gaius?" he called. "Are you awake?"

"Now I am, you buffoon. What is it?"

"There's a body on my bedroom floor. Morgana and Gwen's have been captured. I need you to examine the body for any signs of who would do this while I find Arthur and give him this letter," he dragged the body into the main room and placed him on a table. Gaius had begun to get out of bed and he proceeded to light some lamps in the room.

"The things I do for you," grumbled Gaius. He turned to the body and let out a slight gasp. "This was no accident."

"No, it wasn't," Merlin replied solemnly. "I will be back. Thank you!" He rushed out the doors of his chambers he shared with Gaius and made his way to Arthur's room. He banged open the door, "Arthur!"

Arthur reached over and chucked an empty goblet at his general direction, turning over onto his other side, "Go away Merlin."

"Arthur, you're going to want to read this. It's about Gwen," Merlin told him after dodging the flying goblet. That grabbed Arthur's attention and he bolted up and scrambled out of his bed.

"Give that to me," Arthur demanded, grabbing the note from Merlin's hand. He read it quickly then handed it back to Merlin. "Gather everything that was listed. We leave tomorrow at the break of dawn." Arthur walked back to his bed and climbed back in. At least they had a start at finding Guinevere, he wouldn't know what to do if he lost her. Now they had a chance to save her.

Merlin huffed in annoyance at Arthur's dismissive attitude. "There's a dead soldier in my room."

Arthur turned back towards him. "What?"

"The soldier who delivered the note died right after the parchment touched my hands; dagger in the back. Gaius is examining the body for any clues."

"Did any of the others soldiers come back?"

"None."

"You don't think…" Arthur paused, thinking.

"That whoever took Morgana and Guinevere killed all other soldiers we sent as well and left a trail of them for us to find. That's what 'follow the soldiers to our location' could mean," Merlin replied.

"Oh my gods, Merlin, this is serious. If they killed all the soldiers—"

"Sire?"

Merlin turned around to see Gaius at the doorway, looking downcast.

"What is it Gaius?" At this point, Arthur had decided to get out of bed and now walked towards the old man, intent on the words he was about to say.

"The soldier was burned with the symbol of the Druids," Gaius told him.

Merlin's eyebrows came together in confusion. What could the Druids have to do with this? Why would they do this?

"What?" Arthur asked in a shocked voice, thinking the same thoughts as Merlin.

"But there is a differential between the symbols. The one burnt on the solider has an X through it," Gaius said. "It's not the same."

"What are you saying, Gaius?" asked Arthur.

"I don't think these Druids are part of the Druids we know of. Druids seek peace, whoever has kidnapped Morgana and Guinevere wants nothing of the sort."

"Another branch of the Druids perhaps? One that has taken to a different philosophy. Perhaps the other Druids are just allowing them to do the dirty work," Arthur bit out bitterly. I thought the Druids were loyal to me.

"I don't believe that," Merlin said defensively.

"What other explanation can there be?" Arthur exclaimed.

"Luckily, before I came here I sent for Mordred. He may know something."

Mordred arrived a few minutes later, dressed and looking presentable despite the fact that it was late at night. Tension was high. Arthur and Merlin were both extremely worried about Morgana and Guinevere. The fact that the Druids were involved raised the tension even more.

"My lord?"

"Why is there a Druids' symbol burnt onto the body of one of my soldiers sent to find Morgana and Guinevere?" Arthur snapped.

Mordred met Merlin's eyes, silently communicating. This wasn't the time to test Arthur's patience. "The Druids are peaceful people—" Arthur snorted at that comment. "But, there are some in the order that wish for nothing but freedom to practice magic. During my time with the Druids, there were rumours that some Druids were forming a group to take their freedom back from Uther. While none of those rumours were confirmed during my time, it is possible that another group of Druids have formed."

"That does make sense," Gaius spoke. "There will always be conflict in a group, no matter how peaceful they seem to be. There is always an exception."

"And you swear you had nothing to do with this?" Arthur said to Mordred.

"My lord, I swear I have not made any contact with the Druids for months," Mordred said solemnly.

Arthur seemed to take his word and yawned. "I suggest we retire. Tomorrow Merlin and I will ride out to find Morgana and Guinevere. From the note, I have a feeling that it wouldn't be wise to bring more soldiers."

"Did I ever tell you the time, I was about 10 and my mother asked me to go find some fire wood. So, I went into the forest, a little axe in my hand and proceeded to cut down some trees. I dragged this sapling all the way from the forest and just left it at the doorste—"

"Merlin, would you please shut up!" Arthur exclaimed, holding his hands to head in frustration. He knew Merlin was just trying to lighten the mood, as he always did, but Arthur couldn't handle his endless nattering. There was too much pressure on them. They had managed to track the soldier's tracks who had died in Merlin's room but now the trail had begun to fade. "Guinevere's life is at stake as is Morgana's! Can you just focus on finding the trail of soldiers?"

"I think we found it," replied Merlin solemnly. A soldier hung from a tree by the neck, his head lolled back and his shirt devastated of his body, a red arrow painted on his chest.

"Another one of them dead," Arthur said bitterly. "All because of me."

"Arthur, you can't blame yourself," Merlin told him.

"It's my duty to protect my soldiers, my citizens! Of course this is my fault!" Arthur exclaimed in frustration. "How can they trust me if I can't even protect my own wife?"

"Arthur, we are up against very powerful people," Merlin reminded him. "You can't be blamed for being unable to protect them in this situation. There was nothing you could do."

"But it doesn't matter Merlin," Arthur told him grimly. "The blame must fall on someone and when it does, this time it will fall on me…unless I save Guinevere and Morgana."

Merlin met his eyes. "We'll get them back. I promise you." He gave a sly smile. "Besides, you have someone they don't."

"And who would that be?" Arthur drawled.

"Myself, of course," Merlin told him in an over-the-top grand voice.

Arthur shook his head. "Merlin?"

"Yes?"

"You can stop talking now."

"Really?"

"Merlin!"

Alvarr stood in an under-lit tent, a single candle to light the area. Ruadan sat across from him in a crossed-legged position, looking very calm. "She will not cooperate."

"I expected nothing less," Ruadan responded.

"What do we do now?"

"Isn't obvious? We kill the Queen and the Witch," Ruadan responded.

"King Arthur will be angry," Alvarr stated the obvious.

"Beyond angry. Therefore, it will be a good time to attack. Kara is close to identifying the man who wishes to bring about Arthur's downfall as written on his letter. Once we have him as an ally, we can convince the Board members to join us and wage war on Camelot."

"But, does Morgana need to die?"

"She is of no use anymore," Ruadan stated. "Therefore she is disposable."

"But she's powerful!"

"And yet we have her putty in our hands. I do hope you haven't come attached to her already."

"No! It's just—she could be useful. I only wish to further our cause."

"Of course you do," Ruadan said, unconvinced by Alvarr's words. "We execute the two of them tomorrow at noon."

Alvarr bowed and left the tent. He had no love for Morgana. There was no doubting she was beautiful but Ruadan was unable to see that she was also powerful. Alvarr knew he could never take her in a magic duel. The only reason that they were able to capture her was because they took her by surprise.

Ruadan was so arrogant sometimes. Alvarr had brought in twice as many supporters than he had when the Druids had divided. It had been a bloodless war. Druid politics were as fickle as Camelot's. There had been assassinations but neither group of Druids wanted non-magic users to know of the war. But still, why did Ruadan get to make these important decisions? Perhaps it was because of how wise Ruadan always acted, winning the Druids' respect. His voice was soft but demanding and powerful. Unlike Alvarr who used physical methods of persuasion, Ruadan used quick words to have a man wrapped around his finger.

He could lead just as well as Ruadan could. He led his own band of bandits for long enough. He was Ruadan's right hand but Ruadan hardly ever listened to his advice, probably believing that Alvarr was to rash and young to offer valuable words. Still, Alvarr didn't have the influence that Ruadan had, nor the same amount of supporters…at least, for now.

Morgana and Guinevere found themselves tied to different trees, facing each other, just on outskirts of the camp. The sun had begun to set and the sound of the nearby camp had begun to die down. Guinevere had been interrogated by the Druids but they decided not to use any physical methods to make her talk. She hadn't said anything to put Camelot in jeopardy and didn't understand why they hadn't tortured her. A man with a grey beard and permanent scowl had told the other Druids that: "She knew nothing they did not". She was worried by his words but thankful that they hadn't tortured her.

"Aren't you scared?" Morgana asked.

"Arthur will come," Guinevere told her, trying to reassure both Morgana and herself. "He has to," she murmured.

"What if he doesn't?" Morgana questioned. "Then what?"

"He will," Guinevere responded, even more sure sounding this time.

"But if he doesn't?" Morgana demanded softly. "We need a plan."

"What about your magic?" Guinevere asked after taking a moment to gather her thoughts. She and Morgana both needed to keep calm and think of a rational solution. Her mind quickly went through possible methods of escaping, discarding most of them.

"We could try the bathing thing again," Guinevere suggested weakly, not able to think of another method.

"Alvarr's smarter than the man that captured us last time," Morgana replied.

"But he desires you. We may be able to trick him," Guinevere said.

Morgana pondered the idea for a few seconds. "I suppose we will have to try. We have nothing to lose anyway." She gave Guinevere a "here-goes-nothing" look before shouting, "Alvarr! Alvarr! You spineless pig! Where the hell are you?" Alvarr came running to there tree in under five minutes, a scowl on his handsome face.

"What to do you want witch?" he snapped. "Did you have to shout so loud?"

"Would you have preferred me to call for you as though you were a dog?" Morgana challenged.

Alvarr quickly knelt in front of her, grabbing her chin roughly in his hands. "You do not summon me."

"And yet you came," Morgana retorted, giving him a challenging look, trying to look as fearsome as she could. They remained glaring at each other for a few moments until Alvarr let go of her chin and stood.

"What do you want?" he finally asked.

"I require a bath," she demanded in the most haughtiest voice she could muster.

Alvarr stared at her for a moment before breaking out into harsh laughter much to Morgana's chagrin. "Where do you think you are? This isn't the palace, my love."

"I'm going to die tomorrow. I demand a bath before my earlier demise," her haughty voice turned seductive. "Besides, I know you've always wanted to see me naked."

Alvarr staggered back as if hit. "Your charms won't work on me, witch."

For someone with her life at stake, Guinevere was surprised at just how well Morgana was playing her part. Morgana raised an elegant eyebrow. "Oh, Alvarr," she practically purred, "I'm not too sure about that."

A weaker willed man would have melted at the smoky look that Morgana sent Alvarr but Alvarr managed to hold his dignity in place, if only just. "Morgana…"

"I demand a bath," her voice wasn't demanding but soft and silky and Alvarr could not resist the look she wore on her face. He took a quick glance around before kneeling down and untying the knots which held Morgana the tree, but he kept their wrists bound together.

"She won't be coming with us," he said and retied Guinevere to the tree. The two women shared a subtle nod before Alvarr roughly grabbed Morgana by the rope attached to her wrists and pushed her ahead of him.

"Gentle Alvarr," she in alluring way. He led her to a river bed, bathed in the light of the sun shining between the tall trees. She held out her wrists expectantly. "Unbind me."

"You may have charmed me into allowing you to bathe but don't think for a second I'll untie you," he replied.

"Well then, you'll just have to help me." She turned her back to him, expecting him to untie the laces on her dress. As soon as his fingers came in contact with her back she slammed her foot into his knee cap as hard as she could, then spun around and head butted his chest. She gave him a mighty front kick in the chest, sending him sprawling. She pounced on him and slammed her still tied wrist into his forehead, knocking him out for a short time. She grabbed the knife at his belt and quickly cut the ropes on her wrists apart.

She sprinted back to the tree where Guinevere was tied and swiftly went to work cutting the ropes binding her.

"That's probably the best flirting I've seen from you," Guinevere told her.

"Yes, well, I was getting desperate with my life at stake and all," Morgana sardonically. She pulled Guinevere to her feet. "Let's go." She attempted to teleport them away, forgetting that her magic was blocked.

"It's that bracelet," Guinevere said, her voice beginning to become impatient. "It's blocking your magic."

Morgana looked down at her right wrist seeing a plain braided metal bracelet tight against her skin. She clawed at it with all her might but it didn't move an inch.

"Morgana!" a voice raged in the distance.

Guinevere gripped Morgana's wrist. "We can worry about it later. We need to get out of here."

"We have no idea where we are."

"Look!" She pointed at the sun. "The sun sets in the west which means Camelot is that way, south."

"Gwen, you're brilliant." And the two of them set off in that general direction. When deep into the forest, they began to hear the footsteps of pursuers and the two of them began to run faster as the sound grew louder. Morgana pulled them off the path and down a small hill into a space under the ledge. She put her finger to her lips silently communicating that they should stay silent.

"Morgana! I will throw your body to the dogs tomorrow when we execute you!" came Alvarr's voice. "Search everywhere! I want them found and returned to their damn tree!"

"Alvarr! What is going on?" spoke a lower, older voice.

"Ruadan! I apologize, the witch managed to escape."

"With your aid?"

"My lord—"

There was a resounding slap as Ruadan's hand hit Alvarr's cheek. "Don't think I don't know what you've done. Being tempted by her body, tsk tsk, I expected better from you."

"My deepest apologies, my lord," Alvarr said hastily.

"I don't want your apologies, you snivelling dog. I want them dead by noon tomorrow! If you fail to do this, I will have you executed instead."

Morgana's heart seemed to pound in her throat as Alvarr shouted orders and threats at his men, now searching desperately for them. She touched the bracelet on her arm, if only she could get it off.

"It cannot come off, only by true loves' kiss and we both know that no one in their right mind could possibly love you."

He was right. How could anyone truly love her with all her flaws and malicious deeds? If she made this out alive, would she ever get her magic back? What would life be without it?

"By the gods, must everything fall to me," came Ruadan exasperated voice. Suddenly, something began to probe at her mind and she rose into the air, powerless to stop it. She saw Alvarr holding a torch with men surrounding him, an angry expression on his face which then turned to awe as he looked at Ruadan, who was looking very calm.

"How did you—"

"Unlike you Alvarr, I do not allow rage to cloud my thoughts, my mind. It was not hard to sense her presence."

"I'll gut all of you!" Morgana screamed, trying to show some rebellion. "I'll pull your intestines out of your nose and then chop off your head!"

"You are far too intrepid for a woman at the mercy of men," Ruadan said before pointing. "Get them and bring them back to the camp. Alvarr come with me."

"I'll tear your lungs out and put them on your back!" Morgana screamed at Ruadan's turned back.

He turned back to her. "Perhaps in another life, for tonight, you are completely at my mercy."

Then Morgana fell back. Guinevere was gone. She sighed in relief, footsteps heading in her direction, before everything went black.

There was a sharp strike of pain in the back of Morgana's head as her vision focused and she awoke and memories rushed to the front of her head. They had failed to escape. Morgana would have slapped her palm to her head if she could, but she found her hands bound behind her. Just then, the sun broke through the clouds and Morgana squinted as it hit her eyes. The cold bit at her bare shoulders which were revealed by the cut of the dress she wore. It was far too bright of a day to be a day of death.

It couldn't end this way. Morgana had lived through far too much to have her life taken away by such scum as Alvarr and whoever Ruadan was. She couldn't die today. She refused to die today.

"Morgana?" Morgana craned her head in attempt to look behind her but saw nothing but the bark of the tree she was tied to.

"Guinevere?"

"Oh Morgana! What are we going to do?" Guinevere's voice sounded dismayed.

"Arthur will come, just like you said," Morgana said reassuringly, trying to stay strong for her friend's sake.

"But—"

"Gwen, you need to have faith. Arthur will come and we will all be fine and have the best Winter Carnival Camelot's ever hosted."

Guinevere chuckled slightly. "We can import that sweet tasting drink, what was it…cocoa!"

Morgana laughed. "Yes, we'll have cocoa. It will be the best."

"What are you laughing about?" came the sneering voice of Alvarr.

"We're laughing at your pathetic face," Morgana replied.

Alvarr approached her, a hatful smirk on his face. "If you weren't dying today, I'd beat that smile off your face."

"I'm not dying today, Alvarr."

Alvarr chuckled then smirked again. "You'll die today, witch. You'll both die and no one will stop it." Five men in leather armour approached them, swords sheathed in their scabbards which hung from their belts. "Men, take them to where they will die." The five men cut the ropes binding them from the tree and then hoisted them roughly to their feet. Two men held onto their shoulders well the other one led the way. The two women were led into the heart of the Druid camp. As they passed through the many tents, men and women gave them the most disgusted looks they could muster and some even spat at them.

Morgana's heart seemed to beat so hard, she feared it would burst from her chest. Her emotions oscillated between denial, fear and frustration. How could she have allowed this to happen to her? She should never have let her guard down. If only she had her magic! Curses ran through her mind as she mentally slapped herself for being in this position.

The men pushed Morgana and Guinevere to their knees in the centre of the camp where by now, a circle of people had gathered to watch. Morgana had never understood why people were so eager to watch the deaths of another. Years ago, lifetimes ago, when she had stood at her window and looked down at the gallows, she had had to turn away from watching the bodies drop. She couldn't understand how anyone had dared to look.

A single chopping block had been erected. It was not as refined as the chopping blocks Morgana had seen in Camelot. This one was rough around the edges and not as symmetrical. Ruadan emerged from the crowd wearing dark robes. He lifted his hands for silence and the crowd subsided.

"Druids! Fellow rebels!" he said in a loud, clear voice, hands still raised. "Today, two women kneel before you, mentally preparing to die." He lowered his hands. "They are charged with the crime of passiveness. For while we fight for freedom and justice, they stand in their velvet dresses pretending everything's okay." He turned and pointed a finger at Morgana. "This witch, Morgana Pendragon, is guilty of even more crimes: she fought for freedom and justice and then turned her back on us for the comfort of her brother." The crowd loudly booed at this comment. "There is no other sentence for these women than death." The crowd cheered, hands raising in encouragement. Ruadan turned to them. "Any last words, filth?"

Morgana's eyes found his and her lip turned into a snarl. "You can kill us, but our legacy will live on, unlike yours. When Arthur finds out, you'll find yourself without a head."

Ruadan laughed then spat at her, a twisted smile of pleasure on his face as he watched the saliva drip off her face. "Brave words, but not ones that can save you." He gestured to Alvarr who had been standing off to the side. Alvarr handed him a large axe, its edge gleaming in the light. "The man who passes the sentence is the man who must swing the axe."

Morgana was shoved to her knees in front of the chopping block.

"Bow your head pretty girl," Alvarr snarled.

"Not to you, nor anyone else," Morgana snapped back, tilting her head upwards, trying to look as superior as possible.

"Very well," Ruadan said, stepping closer to Morgana. "Goodbye witch."

And then he swung.

MWHAHAHA! Cliffhangers! So, I've been away for a few weeks. The first week I was away I went on a survival camping trip. I got hypothermia the first night as it was raining and super windy. We had to sail through a gale with 10 foot waves to get to the island we were camping on and I slept through the boat ride. But besides the first night which was kind of hard, I had a lot of fun. The second week I went to do a drama camp my mom puts on. I've been doing it for 9 years so I'm an assistant coach but had to be in the play because someone dropped out which meant I had to learn my lines in a night. So that's what I've been doing this summer? What about you?

I'm already a quarter though the next chapter so expect it decently soon. Thank you so much for the support! Remember to leave a review below :) Thanks!

~Fiery