AN: I literally cannot apologise enough. I'm so sorry for my virtually non-existent updates, and am eternally apologetic for my ever decreasing skill as a writer! I understand that although my love for this story has kind of run out, some of you are still interested- thank you for hanging on, and I promise I will get to the end, it isn't far now! As always, I can guarantee there will be another update sometime, but probably not soon. Sorry again! GJ

"I love you." She said quietly, "I will always love you, and I will always, always, be watching."

As the he moon rose over the horizon, her deep brown eyes met his, and she was gone, leaving nothing but a pool of water, and an irreparably broken heart.

Arthur had never thought of himself as weak. Weakened for a time, perhaps, due to sickness or to injury, but never weak. Even when physically debilitated, he always, always had strength of mind, strength worthy of a leader, worthy of a king.

He didn't feel that now.

However, there was a man Arthur knew remained strong. Stronger, perhaps, than the witch. The king groaned.

"Merlin." He whispered, "We need you… I need you."

Merlin had never felt this incapable before. As he was dragged down the stairs by the bandits that Morgana had quickly employed as her guards, all he could think of was how he should not need to struggle. The chains that bound him were a cold and pressing weight that sank right through him to the heart of his very being, to the place where his magic lived. He could only liken it to the feeling of being incapable of standing due to a heavy weight placed on his shoulders- his magic was crushed. As they passed the very cell he had escaped from with ease earlier that day, Merlin was reminded, although he knew not how he could forget.

Freya.

She was gone.

He stopped struggling then, and as the cell door slammed behind him, he fell to his knees, clutching his head and pitching forwards, curling into a ball as if he could somehow halt the inexorable progression of the pain that was welling up inside him like burning ice, his soul screaming and his heart bleeding because she was gone. He let out a noise that was half a groan and half a scream, burying his head between his knees and sobbing because he had lost everything: they had taken it all. Destiny, the Triple Goddess, whoever was making the decisions… they had taken it all.

He thought that this was the end, but as he lay on the cold, dirt floor of that cell, something extraordinary happened. A firm, strong hand landed on his shoulder, and pulled him closer, until Merlin's head rested against their chest. It took a few moments for Merlin to realise who the strong, calming voice that was talking to him belonged to. This was Arthur Pendragon.

He flinched.

The hand on his shoulder tightened for a moment, as though something had pained its owner, and then was lifted away. There was silence until-

"I'm sorry."

It was little more than a whisper, but it was there, and, perhaps, it was enough.

Morgana was looking out of the window overlooking the courtyard when the man entered. She didn't really know who he was, one of hers, by the look of him, but that hardly mattered to her: she had little time for men's names. She turned to look at him, and as her eyes met his she saw him flinch. No, she had little time for men's names, or men such as these anyway.

"What do you want?" she asked coolly, turning away from him to gaze once more down upon the gallows that still stood in the courtyard below.

"M-M'lady," he began, "I come only to ask, should the great- should her great majesty wish"

"What do you want?" she uttered slowly, her patience wearing thin.

The man nodded urgently, "Yes, yes your- yes. We await- we await your instructions on what those here that are loyal should- do next, your majesty."

She pondered this question in silence. "Next." She said quietly, "Well, I… rule, I suppose."

The man didn't quite know what the appropriate response to this was, but Morgana hardly cared. She was still thinking about the question: what should she do next?

You see, Morgana had never really considered the possibility of getting to where she was alone. "It's a hard thing…" she muttered quietly, "To rule, alone."

The man smiled and nodded at this, "Her Majesty seeks a king?" he said knowingly, but his face fell when Morgana laughed.

"No," she replied, "Not a King. A sister, perhaps. Yes, a sister." She paused for a moment, but then started as if awakening from a trance, and all at once her moment of softness was gone.

"I have unfinished business to attend to." She said icily, standing to sweep past the man, "The trials of Arthur Pendragon and Merlin Emrys are to commence as soon as is possible. I hope I make myself quite clear."

She did not wait for an answer before leaving the room.

One, Leon. Two, Percivale. Three, Gwaine. Four, Lancelot. Five, Elyan. Six, Guinevere.

They stood slumped against one another, weighed down by the chains that bound them, but not one of them was without the defiance and fierce loyalty all had come to expect from them. They stood in silence, Morgana sat lazily upon the throne, viewing them with a smug arrogance. Quite suddenly she laughed, breaking the quiet of the room with the harsh noise.

"Incomplete." She said with no explanation. When she was met with the blank faces of her men, she continued impatiently, "Can't you see, they're incomplete! I want the set. Where is my dear brother these days?"

Again she was the only one to laugh, met with stony silence. She sighed.

"Tough crowd." She said to the nearest guard. He stared forwards, unsure of the appropriate response. Morgana stared at him for a second before regaining her composure.

"Do fetch the King." She said to no one in particular, "And Emrys too, I do love watching my boys bicker."

The minutes ticked by in uncomfortable silence, until with a crash the doors flew open. Gwaine started, and Morgana saw him. She laughed. "Sorry, Sir Knight, were you hoping for a better entrance from him?"

As she spoke, the two men were dragged through the open doors, both struggling furiously against the guards holding their arms. They were pushed to their knees, a painful crack sounding as bone impacted the cold stone floor. They did not look at each other, but instead gazed upon the witch, and their eyes shone with a ferocious fire that can only be found in those who know what it is to be broken.

"Together again!" said Morgana, smiling widely before continuing, "So, whose side are you on nowadays, hmm? Emrys?"

"This isn't over Morgana." He replied quietly. She laughed.

"No, no it really is." She said slowly, "Break you two and the battle's already won, isn't it? And after all… it was easy in the end, wasn't it? The King's trust, so easily lost… you can't ever get it back Merlin , you understand that, don't you?"

Emrys opened his mouth, but it wasn't him that spoke.

Arthur laughed.

"Oh Morgana," he said quietly, "This isn't over yet."