A/N: So sorry, I've been trying to write this for over a week. But you know, I sit down to do it and then it's like, I have something else to write. Or I have to go do something. Or I make the mistake of going to YouTube and it's all Avengers fanvideos for the next two hours.

Two more chapters after this! If it doesn't fit, I WILL MAKE IT FIT.


The midday sun lit up the floor of the room as Balinor sat back on his throne, one hand clasped around a piece of cloth.

He looked up at the knight who had brought it to him, his eyebrows drawn.

Nimueh stood in the back of the room. Hunith was next to him. And the fighter looked out of place.

"You say you found this with this note?" Balinor pointed at the paper next to him. It was just old parchment, torn at the edge. Only one word was scribbled on it, in thick letters: PROOF.

"Yes, Sire," the knight repeated. "This morning. I came as soon as possible." His blue cape was wet from morning dew near the bottom. It hadn't dried yet.

Balinor nodded and looked at the cloth, trying not to show his fear and disgust. Something about this cloth. It was not enchanted—Nimueh had checked. But this was a cloth from his greatest enemy.

"Hopefully," Balinor managed to say clearly, "it does not contain some sort of snake."

And then he pulled back his finger and let the bundle open. The cloth pulled back and the inside of the packet fell—small clumps of black hair wafted into the air.

Balinor was on his feet, pale as death, before they hit the ground.


Morgana was looking out of her window when she saw the dragon descending, and felt worry gnawing at her stomach. Frankly, she'd hoped the dragon wouldn't make another appearance—Kilgharrah could mess up too many things for her right now. Her brain was working overtime trying to fit everything into her plans.

Arthur was healing nicely. He was standing up again without looking like he would fall down; all it took was some sleep. She'd seen the knight come in with the bundle of "proof". It was a scary thought, but it would keep Balinor from doing anything too dangerous to Arthur.

She hoped Merlin was well, but there wasn't much she could do about that—Uther wouldn't endanger the life of every Mundane he knew by doing the prince any lasting damage. Not unless he thought he could also take out Balinor at the same time, and since Balinor was sage in Camelot

(Assassination attempts aside; even if they knew who killed the assassinated prince, they wouldn't be able to track the Mundanes down because Arthur would have been long gone. Or as far as she could figure. Stupid Uther and his stupid plans that she had to work out all by herself… She could be totally wrong and Merlin could already be dead!)

She was hoping she would be able to twist a mostly happy ending out of all this. Hunith would support her, she knew—the queen just wanted Merlin back, and she wouldn't mind giving Arthur up.

Sure, life was a constant battle between two forces she cared about, and Morgana knew that eventually one of them would probably be destroyed. But it didn't have to be today.

But that dragon! Balinor was hoping the dragon would be able to give him some information on Merlin's whereabouts, allowing him to bypass the part of the deal where he lost Arthur Pendragon.

Morgana was hoping Kilgharrah would fall out of the sky. Alas, no luck. She could see the dragon, coming down near… the edge of the forest? Morgana cocked her head to the side. Not into the forest, and not right in the middle of the square. Odd. That wasn't where he usually went…

Morgana narrowed her eyes as she adjusted her dress (she was wearing red, almost reminiscent of Pendragon red, just to be contrary) and started for the door to her chambers.


Lancelot didn't take much notice of the dragon until it landed in front of him.

He'd seen it flying overhead, but assumed Kilgharrah was going to see the king, and resumed what he was doing—that was, searching around the edge of the trees that grew up outside of Camelot's gates for some kind of clue as to Merlin's kidnapping.

He wasn't really thinking he would find anything, though… Uther wasn't entirely stupid.

All the same, he would check under every rock. It was his job to protect Merlin— and he had failed. He hoped never to do it again.

Lancelot leant down to check out a spot on the floor. Was that a footprint?

A huge gust of wind suddenly pressed down on the unsuspecting knight, popping his ears and forcing him down onto the ground as his knees buckled.

He inhaled so sharply that he forgot to properly clear his mouth of saliva first, and spent the next minute choking helplessly on the ground, eyes tearing up. He tried to roll over and get an idea of what had just happened, but failed. He couldn't see past the tears.

At last he wiped his hand over his eyes, gave a few more hacks, and leapt to his feet, looking around and praying no one had seen that. That had been the most uncoordinated moment of his entire life.

Blushing, he discovered a giant lizard-like face staring at him with grave golden eyes.

"Oh," he said.

"Greetings, little knight," Kilgharrah said, because he'd already stomped on the knight's ego enough. He might as well, Lancelot thought, just go whole hog and throw in the whole little thing as well.

"You surprised me," Lancelot said, bowing, forever polite. "I apologize. I thought you were going to consult with the king."

"I am not going to talk to Balinor today. I came to discuss with you."

Lancelot froze. "Me?" He pointed to himself, in case there was someone else that the dragon could have been referring to.

"Yes, Sir Lancelot," the dragon said. "Your prince requested that I come."

"Merlin," Lancelot exclaimed. "Is he okay? How did he talk to you? You know where he is? We need to tell the king."

"He is whole, and indeed, I know where he is, but Merlin has asked that I not tell his father."

Lancelot was bewildered. "Why?" he asked, stepping forward, completely forgetting to be polite and keep his distance. "He wanted you to talk to me?"

"Or the witch, Morgana. I believe Merlin wishes to make a peaceful end to this whole business. He says to tell you that it is very important."

Lancelot hesitated, and then nodded. "What does he want you to do?"

"He wants you to come to him?"

"I'll ride out at once. I'll go and get my horse…"

"No, there is a much quicker way to get there," the dragon said, sounding long-suffering.

"What do you mean?" Lancelot asked, tilting his head.

"Sir Lancelot, I will permit you to ride on my back until we get there."

Lancelot's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "I-I'm sorry?"

The dragon sighed and crouched down on the ground, folding his legs underneath him so he was lying down—and for a second he looked so bizarrely like a dog that Lancelot nearly laughed. But that would be detrimental to his health, and Lancelot knew it well, so he did not laugh. As serious and somber as he could be, Lancelot started for the dragon. "How do I get on?" he asked.

"The bottom of my neck," Kilgharrah said. "My spines are wide there. Sit behind one."

Lancelot swallowed. He'd never been this close to the king's dragon… He forced himself not to slow down. Someone should inform the king, he thought. About all this. Merlin better have a good reason for this, not just the desire to run off again!

He was too close to back away now. Gripping the proffered spine, Lancelot swung a leg over, and then he was riding a dragon.


Morgana was out of the castle by the time the dragon landed, and she made her way through the town as quickly as she could. At one point, someone tried to steal the necklace she wore around her neck, but Morgana wasn't putting up with that today.

She might still just be an apprentice of magic, learning whenever Morgause was in Camelot or whenever Merlin was willing to teach her, but she did know some spells.

She whispered a word, and her eyes flashed gold.

The thief, a teenaged girl, swore and bent over double, clutching her hand, and falling behind as Morgana kept walking with her head back. The burning in her hand would fade after a while.

Morgana smiled, feeling distinctly empowered.

But then she remembered her situation and stopped smiling, picking up her pace.

She reached the gates and waved the guard who started to ask her a question aside.

She nearly ran along the gate until she saw where Kilgharrah had landed—and where he was now taking off, the figure of Lancelot clear against his scaly back. She stopped in her tracks.

"Lancelot!" she yelled. "Lancelot!"

His head jerked to the side and saw her, but it was too late. He was taking off, and the dragon's wings caused wind that made her hair and dress flutter.

The dragon either did not hear her, or did not stop for her. He flew off into the trees, and Morgana was left staring into the sky, terror clutching at her heart.

Lancelot flew off with the dragon. This had to do with Merlin. But Balinor hadn't been told yet. Maybe Merlin was in danger. Maybe Merlin was not in danger.

But one thing was for sure. If Uther still had Merlin, then the dragon would not leave him there while going to get Lancelot. And he wouldn't bring Lancelot unless Merlin had asked for it, surely?

That could only mean that Uther was no longer in charge… He no longer had Merlin.

And the instant that Balinor discovered that, Arthur was dead.

That was not allowed to happen.

Morgana ran back towards the gate. She had to get to the dungeons.


Lancelot clutched the dragon and yelled above the wind. "That was Morgana! She saw you!"

The dragon stretched his neck out and answered him in his rumbly voice, "I will return for her later if necessary."

"But she'll tell King Balinor!"

The dragon chuckled. "You know little about the seer, little knight."


Balinor looked out of the window from his pacing. "Was that Kilgharrah?" he asked.

"I don't know, dear," the queen answered tiredly.

"Why didn't he stop and report to me?"

"Perhaps he had nothing to report."

Balinor sighed and drew his hand down his face, trying desperately to think of a subject that didn't involve Merlin. "Have you seen Morgana today, Hunith?"

"I haven't," Hunith said. "I've been with you all day."

"That's right," Balinor said, and they lapsed into awkward silence.


It took Morgana an hour.

That made her slightly proud of herself. She stole some potion from Gaius, injected it into a bottle of wine, put on her most beautiful and flattering dress, managed to knock out all the guards around Arthur's cells, and simply unlocked the door.

In one hour.

She congratulated herself silently as she opened the door. Arthur stared up at her blankly.

"What are you wearing?" he asked immediately.

"A dress," she answered warily. "I've come to rescue you."

"You've come to…" Arthur sat up, wincing as his bandages shifted. "My father would never let you wear that dress!"

"This is in fashion!" she snapped, and tossed him a shirt. "Here, put that on. It's one of the guard's."

Arthur stared at the cloth in his hand. "How did you get this?"

"Arthur, please, you're worse than Hunith. There are more important issues at hand here."

Arthur shrugged on the shirt but continued to glare at her. "This is too dangerous," he said. "You could get killed."

"Things have changed," she said. "I promise that if we get caught, I'll throw you to the wolves… Happy?"

"Not really," Arthur said. "Help me to my feet. What happened? Was it Merlin?"

"I think he escaped," Morgana told Arthur, helping him to his feet. "I couldn't afford to wait."

"But you could afford to change. Or were you already wearing that?"

Morgana rolled her eyes. There was nothing wrong with this dress! It was a bit low and a bit tight, but overall, nothing worse than the other nobility! Arthur was just used to Gwen. "I changed," she said.

"How will we escape?"

"I left a cloak outside for you," Morgana said. "We'll slip out the back way and make it into the woods. Once we get you figured out, I'll head back to Balinor and pretend nothing happened. He's a bit distracted anyway, I think. Plus, if Merlin is free, as I suspect, he'll head home, right? And then Balinor won't be thinking about you!"

Arthur was swaying on his feet. "Dizzy," he commented. Morgana supported him, but he shrugged her off, standing tall in the gloom of the cell. "Don't worry," he said, looking almost like he'd never been injured in his guard's shirt. "I'll be fine. I did ask you not to do something like this, you know."

Morgana patted him on the shoulder. She wanted to hug him, but that would hurt him. "I decided that you weren't the king, and I could do what I bloody liked," she told him, and grinned.

He chuckled weakly, pushing back his lank and dirty hair. "Lead the way."


"Where is Morgana? I haven't seen her all day, not even to ask for news of Merlin. That isn't like her," Balinor said, for he'd finale grown tired of waiting for the next demand of Uther while "twiddling his thumbs", as he put it.

Hunith sighed and picked her head up off her arms. She hadn't put on any makeup this morning. Despite the years beginning to show, she looked much better this way—less like a woman trying to hide her age, and more like a queen. But she looked tired. So tired.

"She's not in her rooms," Hunith said. "That's where I just checked for her."

At the long table for the council, Nimueh sat alone, laying out cards, picking them up, and laying them back out. "Perhaps," she spoke, "she went to visit the prisoner."

"Why would she want to visit Arthur Pendragon?" Balinor asked.

Nimueh shrugged. "Attraction? Anger? Boredom? I don't know. It was simply a suggestion." She picked up one card and sighed. "Well, there we go again," she remarked.

Balinor studied her back. "You never just make suggestions," he said.

"Do I not?" Nimueh asked, and though he couldn't see it, she was smiling coldly at her cards.

Balinor pulled back his cape and started for the door. "You do not," he said. "Hunith, will you wait here?"

She nodded as the king walked out the double doors.

Nimueh turned and looked at the queen, smirking. "We might as well prepare for the fight now," she said.

"Why do you say that?" Hunith shared her son's less-than-generous view of this woman, but she was unceasingly kind to her.

"Arthur will not be there," Nimueh said.

"Why do you think so?"

"I have lived longer than you think, my queen. No Pendragon wants to face up to his or her deeds. But this time, they will pay."

Hunith leant back. Bitter, Merlin had called Nimueh. Yes, Nimueh was disastrously bitter. It was a shame, and it was terrifying. "I don't understand," she said.

"Wait," Nimueh ordered.

They returned to silence.


Morgana and Arthur made it to the trees. The shade welcomed them, and both sighed in relief.

"Camelot," Arthur said, "is beautiful, but it's a lot safer out here."

Morgana laughed. "With the bandits and the wild animals?"

"They are a lot easier to deal with, trust me," Arthur said.

Morgana nodded, looking up trustingly at the trees. "I was so sick of this when I came to Camelot. But I miss it sometimes. Almost enough to come back…"

"Don't," Arthur ordered.

Morgana looked at him in surprise. "You don't want me back?"

Arthur stared at her. "Back where we could die any day? Back where you follow my father's orders or die? Back where every breath you take is one less you have before you get branded or burnt? No, Morgana, we don't want you back." He looked at the ground as he stepped over roots. "I wish I could send Gwen with you. I wish it could be safe for the rest of us."

"Why don't they come then?" Morgana asked. "Mundanes are climbing. Soon, almost all prejudice will be erased. If the people just adopted the Old Religion…"

"You don't just give up or adopt a religion because it's easier," Arthur said. "You do it because it's the right thing to do. Because you believe it."

"That's not why your father does it," Morgana said. "It's all about power for him."

"My father's religion is politics," Arthur said.

"Yours isn't?" Morgana asked.

"My life is politics," Arthur replied. "Not my religion."

Morgana shook her head—and then ducked it forcefully as the strong gust of wind nearly knocked her to her knees. Her eyes flew wide and she looked to Arthur—he had felt it too. His look to her was equally full of alarm.

And they were walking through a young, barely covered, part of the woods.

They ran before they even saw the dragon sweeping above their heads, growing closer. Arthur cast his eyes about desperately. There was no shelter.

"Faster!" Morgana shrieked, panic in her voice.

They couldn't outrun the dragon, but there was the cover of trees, right there, growing closer— Could they beat him after all?

Arthur's legs kept moving, slapping against the air, even as he was elevated into the air by his abdomen. He screamed aloud in pain at the sudden pressure on his wounds, and beside him, Morgana gave an undignified yelp as she too was pulled off the ground.

Morgana twisted uselessly, her dress ripped by talons. "Arthur!" she called.

"Morgana," he gasped, and she could see his face was white.

"What is it? Are you okay?"

"Fine," Arthur lied. "Fine. Where's… where's he taking us?"

"I don't know!" Morgana said. "I just hope he doesn't drop us!"

The dragon roared as he climbed higher into the sky, two wriggling figures caught within his grasp. They did not talk—they simply waited. He flew straight onward, silent as the grave, for a full ten minutes, before at last he dived sharply.

Morgana yelled loudly as they quickly approached the ground, only pulling up at the last moment in order for the two children of Uther to be dumped unceremoniously on the ground.

Swiftly Morgana fixed her skirt, pulling it down and her neckline up with her sore arms—her shoulders felt near disconnected. "Arthur?" she called, pulling her hair out of her face.

"Here," Arthur called, struggling from the ground and gasping. "You okay?"

"Yeah…"

"Kilgharrah figured you two would want to be a part of this conversation."

Both heads jerked up at the calm voice, and Arthur and Morgana were treated to the sight of Merlin standing in front of Gwaine, Gwen, and Lancelot—and they were not dreaming.


The warning bells began to ring in Camelot. Hunith's eyes went wide, but Nimueh smiled. She could practically smell blood.


There they were—Merlin had been missing for more than a day, and Lancelot had left on a dragon more than an hour ago. And she hadn't seen Gwaine or Gwen for a year. Her heart filled at once at all of them, standing there trying to look unimpressed, alive and whole and gods, weren't they beautiful?

"Merlin," Morgana said. "Your hair!"

Gwaine sniggered. Merlin rolled his eyes. "Hello to you too, Morgana."

"Did Uther do that? I'll kill him!"

"Arthur!" Gwen cried, and pushed past Merlin, running to throw herself into her almost-sort-of-beau's arms. She wasn't even trying to hold back her tears as she gripped him tightly.

She didn't see his face go completely white, and he didn't tell her.

She sobbed, grabbed his face, and kissed him fiercely, causing him to give a forced laugh. Then he finally reciprocated, putting his arms around her back and kissing her hello. She was much too excited to wait for him to finish though; she broke the kiss and began to kiss his cheeks, his nose, his forehead; really, whatever was closest.

"Guinevere…" he mumbled, looking at the four pairs of eyes on them. Morgana was smirking. Merlin looked faintly disgusted. Gwaine was not looking, but grinning. And Lancelot looked almost… appreciative? Awed? Jealous? Creepy. Arthur turned his eyes back to his beautiful little woman.

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again!" Gwen cried.

He held her close for a moment, ignoring the pain. "It's alright," he said. "I'm here. Nothing happened to me."

That, apparently, was when she noticed the bandages. "Arthur…" she whispered. "Oh, no." She stepped back and pulled at his shirt, noticing the red skin, rubbed raw by the sliding bandages. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. You should have told me."

"What, and missed a good kiss?" Arthur asked. "Don't be silly. I barely feel it."

From his spot a little back, Merlin recognized and respected Arthur's attempt to make Gwen feel better before she became really upset.

"When was that changed? Does it need attention?"

"Not yet," Arthur said. "It's good for now." He looked at Merlin, eyes narrowed. "Morgana thought something was up." Then he looked at Gwaine and Gwen and Lancelot, and asked, "So… what is it that's up?"

"I'm also curious," Morgana admitted. "And what's with the sneak-attack dragon?"

Merlin grinned at her. "Well," he said, "while you've been dangling from Kilgharrah's claws, we've been working out a way to save a lot of lives and avoid conflict."

"Great," Arthur said at once, and when Merlin's eyes went to him, Arthur walked up and held out his hand. "Before you say anything else, though," he said, his young but pained face slanted toward the ground, "I feel like I should apologize. You know. For the lying. And the planned assassination."

Merlin looked slightly nervous. "Well, you did say you changed your mind about the assassination thing."

"Shouldn't kill my future king," Arthur said blithely. "I thought maybe I should just… talk you around instead."

"Talking, yes. You did a lot of that. You talk a lot for someone who says so little," Merlin said uncomfortably.

"We have that in common," Arthur replied, hand still out and waiting for Merlin's acceptance or condemnation.

Merlin laughed and took his hand. "That we do," he agreed, and they shook.

For a moment, there was silence, but then Morgana spoke up. "So," she asked. "What is this plan we were talking about? Because I feel like we're going to need that. Considering we left Camelot without its prisoner."

"We did the same for Uther," Gwaine said.

"Right," said Lancelot. "The plan."

"Well," Merlin said, letting go of Arthur's hand, widely smiling, and looking around at his impromptu little army. "It's going to involve a bit of talking."


A/N: EEP ITS NOT MUCH FARTHER. WAS IT OKAY? WAS THE ARWEN REUNION OKAY? WAS THE HANDSHAKE OKAY? AM I WAY TOO EXCITED ABOUT THIS 4000 WORD CHAPTER? PLEASE REVIEW