So happy to have the next chapter for you guys! Started it on Friday but had to get the kinks out before uploading.

Welcome to all new followers and thank you. A big thank you for all the feedback, especially sandhopper and mersan!

Chapter 22

Lord Agravaine was surprisingly calm for someone facing execution. The guard around him increased by the day. But there was no secret plot in motion, at least one being enacted by the disgraced lord. He made no desperate escape attempts, no alliances with any guards, nothing. He spent his time walking around his cell for exercise, sleeping, and thinking. He lay on his thin straw pallet, staring at the stone ceiling above him, absorbed in his own thoughts. And that was how Morgana found him.

"Agravaine."

Agravaine's head jerked up from his restless slumber. He looked around wildly for the source of the voice, then relaxed as a familiar figure stepped out of the shadows.

"Morgana," Agravaine murmured gratefully, "You have no idea how good it feels to see a friendly face."

She gave him a thin lipped smile that did not quite match her eyes. A thought struck him.

"The guards?"

"Will not disturb us. I've seen to that." She held up an empty bottle of wine, no doubt laced with a sleeping draught.

He wrapped his fingers around the cool metal bars, and looked at her expectantly. "Well? I take it you're not here on a social visit," he added, when she did not respond.

Morgana laughed softly. "Not this time, no." She came up to the bars, so close they were but inches apart.

"I've come to thank you for your service," she said, her green eyes meeting his dark ones. "You've been a loyal soldier to me, and I will not forget it."

"Been one?" he repeated slowly. A sense of unease crawled slowly up his spine.

"Yes Agravaine," said Morgana sweetly. "Been. Your betrayal has been discovered. Surely you understand?"

Agravaine was no longer smiling. "Morgana, what the devil are you on about?" he said tersely. "I have served you faithfully and will continue to do so. You know I am loyal only to you! Now release me so that I may continue to help you! What do you-"

"It's a shame," said Morgana loudly, talking over him to force him into silence, " But with your cover blown, you are no longer of any use to me." She shook her head sadly. "You're a loose end, Agravaine. And I cannot have loose ends."

"Wait!" he cried out. His eyes darted frantically to and fro, and his breathing sped up. "Surely you can't mean …. You wouldn't …"

Morgana sighed. "I would Agravaine. I have always done what needed to be done. You were the one who taught me that, remember?" She slipped her fingers through the gap in the bars and stroked his face gently. He recoiled in disgust, but could not hide his fear from her.

"This is my reward?" he hissed, gazing at her in disbelief, "After everything I've done for you? After I betrayed my country, my family, everything...for you?"

"Spare me the dramatics, Agravaine," snapped Morgana. "You had to know this was coming. Your attack failed. You failed me. You're in the hands of my greatest enemy, who will no doubt try to learn any weaknesses of mine that he can through you."

He winced, being well versed in the methods used in Camelot for extracting information from prisoners.

"Take me with you," he pleaded, so desperately it was pitiful. "I can still help you." He searched her eyes for any hint of mercy, of salvation. There was none.

"Please…" he whimpered, too terrified to care how weak he sounded. "Morgana, please…"

Morgana watched him evenly. "Goodbye Agravaine," she whispered.

"Wait-" he began, as her eyes flashed gold. "Don't-"

"Bæl on bryne!"

Agravaine screamed at the top of his lungs, as his whole body was consumed by flames. He rolled around on the ground in a futile attempt to put out the fire. And he continued to scream.

By the time the groggy guards came stumbling into the room, Morgana was gone, along with the fire. All they could do was stare in shock at the smoke pouring off of Agravaine's charred body.

"We found him like this, Sire. There was nothing we could do."

Arthur stared down at his uncle. The older man's body was scorched black in some places, raw and blistered in others. His eyes were blank, all life having left them, but his hands were held up as though to shield his face, his mouth opened mid-word. The cell reeked of burning flesh.

"Sire?"

Arthur blinked, and looked at his guards. "What is it?"

"What should we do with the body? He cannot be buried in the royal crypt as a traitor to the crown."

Arthur sighed. "I know." He continued to gaze down at the late Agravaine. He was filled with a sudden weariness. When had this become his reality? When had people being murdered become the new normal, so common an occurrence that he no longer seemed to feel anything?

One guard shifted uncomfortably. "Sire?"

"Yes." said Arthur, with a quick shake of his head to clear it. "The body. Yes. Right." He thought for a minute. "He needs to be made an example of. We cannot just make an announcement of his death, and expect people to believe it without proof." He took a breath.

"Hang him by the gallows-publicly." he said quietly. "Tell the people of Camelot who alone is responsible for the state he is in. That he served Morgana faithfully. Tell them this is how she repays her followers. Have someone declare his crimes to the crown, and stress that no one gets away with betraying Camelot, no matter their station."

The guard nodded, and with a look to his fellows, they all departed. Arthur continued to gaze at his uncle, so absorbed that he didn't hear anyone coming down the steps. He was only alerted to their presence when a soft and familiar hand slipped into his own. Guinevere.

"You did the right thing," she murmured. "It's not your fault."

He smiled humorlessly. "You know that. I know that. But my heart doesn't seem to."

They stood there in silence together.

"Maybe if I had offered something to him," he said abruptly, "An apology for my father's actions. Maybe if I'd raised his station-"

Guinevere raised her hand, effectively silencing him. "There's nothing you could have done, Arthur," she said sadly, "he made his choice. He is the only one responsible for it, as Morgana is for hers."

He shook his head. "This cycle of violence began with my father," he whispered. "Morgana has done terrible things, as has my uncle. But this did not start with them."

Gwen looked at him carefully. "Then maybe it's time you end it." She kissed him softly, and departed, leaving Arthur lost in thought.