Well, this is all very exciting. I am forteen days away from getting Hooded. I then prepare for my cross continental work move. I am moving to the UK for a job and I am so incredibly nervous! I've had this chapter mostly finished for a while, but have been debating adding more. Instead of making an overly long chapter, however I decided to go with splitting this episode into either two or three parts because it is so important. We've started on season 4, and from here the ball really gets rolling. I have so many good things lined up, I hope that you are excited! :) Cheers and enjoy!

Sir Leon, Sir Batraine, Sir Montague, and Sir Elyan were tracing along the wasteland on border patrol. The first three were on route because it was their guard rotation to complete this circuit. Sir Elyan, on the other hand, had been ordered on this patrol as a means of cooling his temper. He had said some ill-advised words to Arthur in an argument about the prince's relationship with the knight's sister. It wasn't that Elyan didn't approve of the relationship, he simply wanted to see the prince make an honest woman out of his flesh and blood, rather than having her no better than a wench who tumbled to make extra money. It was suffice to say that Arthur had not approved of Elyan's words and so here the knight was in the middle of nowhere with still no ring on his sister's hand.

It was now a year since the fateful battle that had changed all of their lives. They all were desperately patrolling and searching for the Lady Morgana, former King's Ward and now an enemy of the state who was to be captured and tried for the crown's mercy and treason. So far no one had gotten even a trace of her. Until now.

Ahead of the group, pulling a heavy cart through the crater was a woman. The knights on horseback approached her and Sir Leon called out, "Holt! Stay where you are." The woman stopped walking and lowered the cart before taking a few steps away. It was so unusual to find anyone out here in the Wastes that all of the knights were on guard. Only those who were up to no good were usually found in these places. The knights all dismounted and came towards her cautiously.

"Where are you headed?" Sir Leon asked in a firm voice.

"The Fields of Meredor." The woman's voice was cultured and kind- beautiful really, but Sir Leon would not be swayed by any pretty smuggler.

"What's in the cart?" He asked and beckoned the others forward.

The woman turned and to the shock of all, they found that she was the Lady Morgana.

"Lady Morgana." Sir Leon stated, not believing his eyes.

She threw out a hand and blasted the group with power one by one until they were all felled. Quickly, Morgana made her way over to the cart and pulled back the covers.

"Are you alright?" She questioned the occupant.

"Yes, thank you Sister." Answered Morgause as she stared blankly into the distance. She then turned her face to look at Morgana. The side of the once beautiful woman's face was now disfigured to the point of being repulsive, a souvenir of their battle and defeat. "But, we must hurry. Night is nearly upon us and we still have far to go."

Merlin was running through the courtyard on a wonderful summers day. He was late, but when was he not. Ducking out of the way of some garland he continued on his way to the kitchen. When he got there he smelled great wonderful things and his stomach rumbled with pleasure and want. Oh, how he loved the kitchens. He might even steal a small morsel of food for himself before retreating out of here, if Cook didn't catch him.

Almost as if she heard his thoughts a ladle was thrust into his face and an accusing voice demanded, "What are you doing here?"

Merlin placed a hand on the back of his neck in nervous innocence. Sure, he came in and took some food from time to time, but nothing much to warrant this! Well, nothing much lately. "The prince's shirt." He explained and she turned away in disgust.

"Fine, just keep your dirty fingers off my food, you understand?" She called out to him as he scampered away further into the kitchen.

Merlin collected the shirt from where it was hanging to dry and that was when a hook on a rope caught his attention. He glanced upwards and saw through the venting grates Sir Gwaine and Sir Percival fishing for some of cook's wonderful food. He laughed at their cleverness, Gwaine shared with him an impish glance whilst, Percival continued his ministering with a look of complete concentration (one should note that this look only appeared during battle and when food was present).

To help them (or really to cause a distract so he could steal some food for himself), Merlin attached the hook to a finished and finely grilled whole chicken. He tugged on the rope twice to indicate its readiness and looked over at Cook before slinking away. Sticking his hand into a barrel of roasted nuts, he ran out with both of his prizes tucked firmly to his chest.

The palace was alive today like no other day. Due to the rapid activity, and surprisingly, through no fault of his own, the shirt that Merlin was carrying was soiled by wine from a careless footman. He held the shirt in a fit of despair and mourned the stain.

"You could try a bit of salt." Came the humorous voice of Sir Lancelot, Merlin's closest friend. The man was strolling towards him carrying four large swords over his shoulder as if they weighed nothing. Merlin, with his small frame and stature was easily envious of his dear friend.

"Arthur is going to kill me." Merlin cried.

"Let's see." Lancelot offered and the two men stared at the white linen tunic.

"You've faced far worse, Merlin." He clapped Merlin on the shoulder and sauntered off down the hall only to call back, "Or you could go see you-know-who for help."

Merlin alternated between staring down at the shirt and staring after his friend. He knew who 'You-Know-Who' was. It was the blasted witch that lived next door to him. Merlin could do big magic, however he had not learned the fine control over small spells like she did. With his large amount of magic, a lot of the time it was something big or nothing at all. Hermione had a surgeon's like precision when it came to magic, she could even blow out a candle with a single tiny stream of air from her gift. He had to blow it out with his own breath, or risk exploding the candle.

He had avoided the woman as much as possible for the past year with varying amounts of success. It wasn't as though he didn't understand the need for secrecy; he just didn't understand the need to be secret from him. He sternly ignored the part of him that was saying, like every time this was brought up, that he was so angry because he loved her so dearly and yet she had refused to trust him.

Still. He needed this shirt to be perfect. With a groan of self-disgust and pity he raced off back in the direction that he came in hopes of finding the witch in her chambers. He was in luck and in further luck that she was alone. She never seemed to be these days. The woman was now the primary caretaker of the castle and its surrounding areas now that Gaius' main focus was the king's health. With a frown so deeply set into his features that it might never leave, Merlin stood in her doorway watching the woman read in a small wicker chair she had woven herself.

His heart ached at the sight of her, so he normally didn't look. He never loved and hated the same person so thoroughly. He knocked on her doorframe, unable to watch her any longer.

"Greenstone." He called, unwilling and further, unable to call her by her first name.

She picked up her head and frowned at him in the same sad way that she always did. "What can I do for you, Merlin?" She questioned and closed her book. She beckoned him in and he closed the door behind him.

"Wine was spilt on Arthur's shirt, and Lancelot instructed me to go to you." With the way that their relationship was now, Hermione might have refused his request. By throwing Lancelot's name into the mix, Hermione would never say no. Instead and as he predicted the witch held out an open hand to him and beckoned for the shirt.

"I'll see what I can do." She took the shirt from him and Merlin took extra caution to make sure that their skin did not come into contact with one another. The wizard thought that he heard her sigh, but maybe he had been mistaken. She brought the tunic over to her worktable and placed it down so that she could see the stain. "You really did a number on this, didn't you, Merlin?" She called to him, her voice friendly and warm if a little strained. Merlin wanted to answer her, he wanted to forgive her, but he couldn't and so he remained silent.

"Scourgify." He heard her mutter and he saw her hand move in an 's' shape before picking up the shirt and giving it back to him, sans the stain. "Good as new." She explained and looked at him expectantly. Her eyes were as beautiful as always. God, he loved her, he loved her so much that he wished a hole would appear right now and swallow him rather than continue this game with her. He opened his mouth to speak and took a step towards her and it wasn't a trick to the light- her eyes definitely were asking for forgiveness and friendship. Daringly, he reached out and cupped her elbow with his free hand, when the door was opened with a bang.

"Mione, I've the horses all set in the courtyard."

A burly redheaded man was saying without looking up from the map in his hand. "I truly think that you should come with me. The school just isn't the same without you." He looked up and paused at the close proximity the two had. "What's all this?" He questioned with a finger swiveling between the two.

Merlin gathered the shirt tightly to his chest and left the room in a rush. If Hermione's lover was here, he didn't and couldn't be in that same room.

Hermione sighed as Merlin left and turned to face Ric. "That was Merlin, and you just interrupted what could have been an apology for a year of pratness."

The older man gaffed and chortled while rolling the map and slapping onto his palm. "Anyone with eyes can see the boy is smitten with you. But, that's none of my business." He turned a serious face to hers. "Things aren't that great, up near Hogwarts. The muggle in habitants of Hogsmeade are starting to cause some issues."

Hermione sighed, she wanted to leave and have Merlin join her up at Hogwarts, however with Morgana still out there, Arthur still not king, and Uther basically on his deathbed, she felt as though she couldn't leave. Further, Merlin wouldn't leave and she won't leave without him. "Not yet, Ric." She sighed and leaned back on her workspace. "I've still some where to do here."

Ric shrugged. "Fine, but remember Hogwarts will always be your home, Helga Hufflepuff." Hermione smiled a full and dear smile at him.

"I know, Mister Godric Gryffindor."

Hermione walked him to his horses and hugged the man firmly before seeing him off.

Arthur was scribbling away on parchment when Merlin entered his chambers at a run. The manservant stopped short at the sight before him.

"You're dressed." He said in nothing short of awe.

"Yes, Merlin." Arthur bantered back. "I'm not an idiot." He turned back to his desk revealing the bare small of his back where his tunic was tucked up into itself. Merlin couldn't stop the smile and the laugh that escaped his lips. He took large amounts of delight from the idiocy that his master sometimes presented.

"You sure about that?" Merlin countered with a grin that he couldn't quite contain.

"I beg your pardon?" Arthur responded without looking up from his writing.

"It's just," Merlin started to explain with his hands reaching towards the hem of his own shirt to demonstrate, "the back of your-"

"I'm trying to write a speech." Arthur said with dismissive finality and a look of warning to his servant.

"Do you want help?" Merlin wanted to know, giving up on fixing his master's clothes.

"No." Arthur dismissed again and Merlin pulled out the speech he had written for Arthur the night previous.

"You won't want this then." The wizard held up the scroll with both hands. "I spent all night working on it."

Arthur looked like he wanted to argue. He, a prince with all his education taking a speech written by a lowly manservant? And yet.

"Give it to me." The prince relented with a hand reaching for the boon in the form of paper and ink.

"What do you think?" Merlin wanted to know and waited with excited anxiousness.

Arthur looked it over; it was good, really good. However, Merlin wasn't to know that. "It needs a polish." He rejected.

Merlin knew what was going through Arthur's mind. He always knew. "I'll add it to the list." He supplied cheekily and took the speech back and began to tidy up the room.

Arthur looked at his own pitiful attempt at a speech and subsequently tossed the paper to the floor. "Merlin, there aren't many servants who get the chance to write a prince's speech." Arthur lorded, attempting to put Merlin in his place. "Obviously, it would be too much for you to say 'thank you'." Merlin gave him a look that was a cross between 'eat my shorts' and 'you're funny, you crazy ass, let's get you some soothing drafts' before leaving with the soiled laundry.

Arthur grinned at the look. Yes, it was a good day to be in the palace.

Morgana helped Morgause out of the wagon and the blonde stared in wonder at the sight before her.

"The Isle of the Blessed." She breathed, relieved that their journey was nearing its end. The castle ruins stood stark against the rolling fog that surrounded the island that the air was thick and curling with old and powerful magic. She breathed in deeply. Soon, they would be getting their revenge. Soon. Her body was weak, dying from the injury that the girl with the magical blade had given her. She would not let her life end in vain, however. No, she would sacrifice herself for the benefit of the magical. Only with Morgana on the throne would the magically gifted people ever be free. She would gladly die for such an honor.

With her sister's help, the two approached the dock and the boatman, Charon. He held out a hand for his toll and Morgause pressed a coin into his gloved palm.

"You know where we wish to go." Morgause stated her voice strong, despite her failing health. Morgana and Charon helped her into the boat and through the power of magic and desire the boat left the dock towards the wayward Isle of the Blessed.

Uther placed his water goblet down shakily and Gwen watched him in hesitation from the door to his chambers. Uther had made it very clear that he did not care for the serving girl.

"You've not eaten, Sire." She stated coming forward with her hands clasped gently. Uther did not answer, but stared forlornly out the window. "Sire." She called again, trying without success to gain his attention. Gaius watched from the door as this all played out and he watched not with joy but with a deepening sorrow. Uther was slipping further and further away it seemed with only the barest grip on reality. The once primly kept and contained king had let his appearance go to ruin. His once strong body was now a shell of its former physical physique.

Gwen met him at the door with the still burdened tray. "It doesn't seem to make a difference." She murmured to the old physician.

Gaius held up the soothing potion he had created. "I'm not sure it ever will, but it is the only thing that gives him peace."

Gwen glanced back at the broken monarch. "It's been a year since Morgana betrayed him."

"His heart is broken." Gaius tried to reason with her. "And, his spirit is gone." Gwen moved to leave when Gaius stopped her. "You're joining us for the feast tonight?"

Gwen glanced between him and Uther. In the time since the battle, Gwen had become Uther's prime caretaker. "I don't believe so, I have to stay with the king."

Gaius nodded. "You're very good to him, Gwen."

Gwen made a tight-lipped smile, a clear sign of her distaste for the monarch. "I don't do it for him. I do it for Arthur."

After watching her leave, Gaius made his way over and sat down with his king.

Charon steered the boat with his eyes closed and Morgana held her beloved sister to her as they took this final journey together. Life was not supposed to be like this, she was not supposed to lose Morgause like this. However, there was dreaming and there was reality- and you could say many things about Morgana, but being a dreamer was not one of them. She was a dreamer- once, before her eyes had been opened to the evil around her. And, while Arthur might not be the root of that evil, it was the soil in which the plant would take place a grow- thus he must be stopped at all cost. She needed to save the magic users if she were to save the soul of the Earth.

"The reports are true, sire." The knights who had survived Morgana's attack had finally returned to the castle and were now reporting in the King's small audience chambers. Arthur was currently acting as steward in his father's stead. "We caught up with Morgana on the Plains of Denaria." Knight Leon was speaking in representation of his unit.

"Was she alone?" Arthur questioned, arms crossed.

"No." Elyan answered. "There was someone else. Morgause."

"But we can't be sure." Leon interjected.

"Where were they heading?" Arthur wanted to know.

"To the Sea of Meredor." Leon answered, and to the side Gaius began to look thoughtful.

"Isle of the Blessed." He answered firmly and without wavering. It is the only place where those two would go. They were going to invoke the old magic.

"I'll send out patrols at first light." Spoke a man who was dressed all in black. From her position in the corner, Hermione thought of him much akin to Severus Snape- but without her affection for the man. This man set her on edge like Snape never had.

"Thank you Sir Agravaine." Arthur acknowledged. Hermione continued to stare. Agravaine de Bois was the brother of Yvane, Arthur's mother and had every reason to despise the crown and whoever was holding it. Yet, she had no proof. And, with Merlin and her on the outs she had not been able to tap into him in his tenure like she wanted to.

"You should know that her powers have grown, Sir Batraine and Sir Montague are dead." Leon warned and Hermione became worried about his haggard appearance. He might need to see her once this was through. The attack that killed two of the knighted party obviously had left him with some damage. A quick glance at Elyan made her firm in her belief that the two would be visiting her infirmary at a very near date and time.

Leon's words had hit everyone harshly. The two aforementioned and now deceased knights were well liked and well respected.

"Keep me informed of any developments." Arthur replied, having no other way to respond to such news. The two nights bowed and left with everyone else following.

Arthur and Agravaine were left alone in the chambers. "For months, nothing- why now?" Arthur wanted to know.

"We knew she couldn't stay hidden forever." Agravaine replied. "Today, tomorrow. What did it matter? You musn't live in fear, Arthur. Camelot is strong, if Morgana were to act, we'd be ready for her." Arthur nodded, finding solace in the words of his adviser.

"You're right, of course." The prince looked down and away, deep in thought before turning to look at his uncle. "I don't know how I would have gotten through these last few months without you." There was a pause in which Agravaine gave Arthur a lopsided smile. "Thank you, Uncle." Arthur finished and clapped his kin firmly on the shoulder before walking away.

"I made a promise to your mother." Agravaine called out to his nephew. "I'll always be there for you." He told Arthur as the blonde turned back to face him. Arthur gave him another warm and satisfied look before turning and walking away.

Morgana stared up in trepidation at the island and at the wyverns that resided at it. She did not fear this place; so much as she feared the events that were about to be set in motion. Once they set foot on the island, there would be no going back and she would leave this isle alone. She firmed her resolve, this was what her sister wanted. The boat docked and Morgana helped her sister to shore. From there they entered the grounds and when Morgana saw the castle she had to stop. Could she really go through with this? Could she really kill her own flesh and blood? Could she really kill the person that she loved more dearly and deeply than anyone? Her heart broke so resoundingly; the young witch was surprised it wasn't audible.

Morgause continued to walk as if demon themselves were possessing her. Was this truly all folly? They could be happy, the two of them. Leave this place and start a new home where magic was practiced and welcome. There were still the wild stretches of the north, and she had heard rumors of a school for magic. They could go there. She stopped walking. She wanted to go there, with Morgause and leave this life of hatred and fear.

"Samhain is almost passing." Morgause was steaming ahead of Morgana through the halls of the old palace.

"I can't do this." Morgana finally confessed. She loved Morgause so deeply and so dearly that she would give all of this up if only to take her sister home. They could live together, forever- if Morgause would just say 'yes'.

"Sister." Morgause breathed in shock and beckoned the younger one forward and they walked together as they held each other. "Remember what I told you, it is the only way. What you are about to do will affect everyone, even you. Most importantly, it will bring our enemies to their knees." The sisters approached the sacrificial altar. Morgause gripped the arm of the one person she loved more than herself. "You must be strong." She encouraged. "Remember that." She withdrew the dagger from her belt and held it ceremoniously to Morgana. "Do not be scared." With those words, Morgana took the blade and Morgause turned to the altar.

Morgause turned and ran her hands down the altar. Her pain would soon cease to exist; however she would live on forever in the magic that was about to be performed. "I am not long for this world." She consoled. "There's nothing left me here now." Morgana wanted to tell her all that Morgause meant to her. How much she loved her, and that she was still here for her, but she couldn't. Her sister had been very firm in her last wishes, and she would follow them to the end. Morgause crawled on to the slab and stared deeply into Morgana's eyes. "Please, sister." She begged with only the barest grip on her sanity. "Let my parting be my final gift to you." Seeing defeat and acceptance in her younger sister's eyes, Morgause laid back on the stone in silent victory.

Morgana took her place over the prone figure and began to chant as the midnight hour began to toll. She held the dagger aloft above her head, though her heart cried out for mercy and piety. But, no. Morgause wanted this. She needed this. And she would continue her sister's work! The dagger plunged down with a call to her magic and Morgana's heart, hope, and sanity snapped with the final gasp of her sister's breath and life.

Back and Camelot it was as though time as slowed down. Everyone was toasting to the king when Merlin heard the first screams of the damned. Those poor tortured and retched souls whose deeds in life only gave them an afterlife of horror and regret.

A woman, death as he knew her to be, stood in the middle of the grand chamber with no one the wiser to her appearance and yet he saw her. "Emrys." She called, and Merlin knew his Mistress. Should she want his life right now, it was forfeit.

The wine tankard fell from his hands as Merlin lost his grip on consciousness. Cold- he was so cold.

A hand reached out to touch Hermione and yet she saw no one. "Help him." The voice whispered and Hermione, as all mortals, recognized the call of death.

"I will." She affirmed.

Well? What did you think? I've got know know. So many, many good things to come! Pretty please review as a graduation present!

Cheers,

iBless!