So here we are with the next-to-last chapter, which turned out to be shorter than a lot of previous ones. This is because these last two installments are just about tying up loose ends and bringing the story to a satisfying conclusion now that the action/conflict is over; actually, I probably could have combined them into one huge chapter, but I thought that might cause mood dissonance since this one is about saying goodbye to the characters we've lost, while the final chapter will be much more upbeat.

Under the High Kings' guidance, the survivors soon regrouped and began organizing their withdrawal from the desert. Merlin sent the dead home by magic, and some of the living as well, in addition to once again arranging for dragons to carry those who were unwilling or unable to tolerate the dizzying sensation of being instantaneously whisked from place to place. Arthur and Gwen, meanwhile, distributed supplies and coin to the ones who preferred to make their way back to their respective kingdoms with no magical assistance whatsoever, but that group was very much in the minority; after all they had been through, most of the battle-weary warriors were eager to get home as soon as possible, no matter how uncomfortable the method of transportation.

Having done all he could for their army, Merlin then went to the Isle of the Blessed, where adherents to the Old Religion from all over Albion were gathering to pay their last respects to the fallen High Priestess and witness her successor's ascension. Morgana was sequestered in the temple while she made her final preparations to take Nimueh's place, a complicated ritual which involved three days of fasting, prayer, and meditation; during this time, she was forbidden to see or speak with anyone, even the other priestesses of her order, so Merlin passed those days by catching up with old friends like Alator of the Catha, Anhora the unicorn keeper, and the druid leaders Aglain, Iseldir, and Cerdan. Freya and Gwaine were there too - the latter having become a follower of the Triple Goddess after their wedding, albeit not a particularly devout one - and even Kilgharrah arrived at sunset on the third day, bringing with him Gaius and Alice, who were still hard at work treating the wounded but had arranged to take some time off in order to attend Nimueh's funeral.

At daybreak the next morning, Morgana finally emerged from the temple, dressed in the ceremonial garb priestesses of the Old Religion wore for the most solemn occasions, which consisted of a plain white cotton robe cinched at the waist with an undyed, woven belt. Her hair had been left to stream loose down her back and she wore no jewels - nor even shoes, since every pair she owned bore some rich embellishment that would have clashed with her simple robe - but Merlin thought she looked as lovely as ever, even if her face was pale and drawn with grief.

They didn't speak to one another; in fact, no one said a word as Morgana levitated the wooden platform that held Nimueh's body, surrounded by masses of flowers, from its place of honor in front of the temple and guided it down to the lake, the huge gathering of mourners following her in a long, somber procession. When they reached the shore, she transferred the body to a boat, along with the floral tributes. Then, at her invitation, several of the people who had known Nimueh best stepped forward to share their memories of her.

Most of them spoke of her leadership during the Great Purge, of her tireless endeavors to rescue as many of their people and sacred artifacts as she could from Uther's wrath, her magical accomplishments, and her unwavering dedication to the Goddess. When Merlin's turn came, he reminisced fondly about his time as her pupil, and his everlasting gratitude for her help in harnessing the incredible power he was born with.

"She wasn't just my teacher, though; over the years, I had the privilege of counting her among my friends as well. She had a keen sense of humor - not one you wanted to be on the receiving end of, of course," he remarked to scattered chuckles from the crowd. "Nimueh could be...thorny, at times, but she was always ready to help those in need, and she truly cared for our people...more than I think she knew how to show sometimes. She gave her life to save the one person I can't live without, and I am more grateful to her than I can say...but I wish there had been another way."

He stopped talking then, his voice choked off by the tears pooling in his eyes, and bent over Nimueh's body, whispering a final farewell that was for her alone. Then he straightened up, wiped his eyes, and returned to his place among the others.

Left alone at the front of the crowd, Morgana swallowed the lump that had risen in her throat upon hearing Merlin's heartfelt words before delivering her own. "Like Merlin, I too was fortunate enough to learn from Nimueh. When I first met her, I was ignorant and terrified of what I am, but she helped me to see my magic for the gift that it is, to accept my true self. She also placed her faith in me as her successor, and invested a great deal of time and effort in guiding and preparing me; I only hope I can live up to her expectations...and I wish she could be here to see the dawn of a new age in Albion."

Bending down to kiss Nimueh's forehead, she whispered, "Farewell, sister. May the Goddess guide you safely to Avalon."

At her command, the boat cast off, bursting into flame once it was at a safe distance. Merlin came to stand by her side, and the two of them watched together as the blazing vessel was swallowed by a wall of mist that suddenly rose from the lake's surface, its tendrils reaching out like beckoning hands. For a moment, the curtain seemed to part, and they thought they caught a glimpse of Nimueh stepping onto some distant, shining shore where Hunith and Balinor stood waiting to greet her; then the vision was gone, obscured once more by the mass of swirling vapor.

The mist vanished as abruptly as it had appeared, leaving a clear view of the water for miles around, yet the boat was nowhere to be seen.

When at last they turned away from the lake, the High Priest of the Blood Guard came forward and knelt before Morgana. "My lady."

"Yes...Gregory, isn't it? What may I do for you?"

"Nimueh's death while under my brothers' protection is a disgrace to the Blood Guard, whose sworn duty it is to defend the priestesses of the Old Religion, particularly our High Priestess; my brothers failed in this duty. I offer you my life in recompense for their failure."

He bowed his head in anticipation of her striking him down, only for it to snap back up when she spoke. "That won't be necessary. I understand that you offered Nimueh your personal protection in the battle at Sarrum's fortress, which she declined. She also ordered your brothers to accompany King Arthur and Lady Guinevere on their mission to infiltrate the keep and destroy the corrupted crystal, a task they performed admirably; Arthur has attested that he and Gwen would not have reached the crystal alive without your brothers' assistance and their courageous sacrifices. I require no repayment, nor do I hold your brothers responsible for Nimueh's death."

"But we still feel the sting of shame, my lady," Gregory protested. "If you will not take my life, then I humbly ask that you allow us to attend you as your personal guard when you return home, so that we may expunge this stain upon our honor."

"I don't believe I need a guard either," Morgana replied with an amused lilt in her voice. "I'm hardly a helpless damsel, and if I should need protection, I'm sure my husband will be up to the task." She gestured to where Merlin stood beside and slightly behind her, having stepped back when he saw that she still had official business to conduct. "Perhaps you've heard of him?"

Gregory bowed his head once more. "Of course, my lady, everyone knows of the great Emrys. I meant no disrespect to either of you, yet-"

"However, if you wish to be of service, I may have another use for you. Great changes are coming to Albion, and we all have our parts to play. Present yourself, along with any of your brothers who are free to join you at the Palace of the High Kings when I summon you, and I shall grant you an opportunity to earn the redemption you crave."

"Yes, my lady." Gregory gazed up at her with abject relief and gratitude before bowing so low that his forehead almost touched the ground. "Thank you."

They waited a moment longer to see if any other supplicants would step forward with requests for their new High Priestess; when no one did, Merlin offered her his arm and asked, "May I have the honor of escorting you home, my lady?"

Morgana gladly accepted it, allowing her air of authority to slip ever so slightly as she subtly shifted her weight in order to lean on him. Her time in the temple may have helped her reach new heights of spiritual enlightenment, but it had also been grueling, especially since it had followed so close on the heels of a terrible battle. "You may, my lord." A tired smile flashed across her face as she admitted, "Going home sounds wonderful."

###

Merlin didn't take her home immediately, though; instead, she opened her eyes to find that they were standing on a grassy, gently sloping hillside overlooking the lake where Gwaine and Freya had said their vows. Under different circumstances, she might have complained about the unexpected detour, but she could tell there was something weighing heavily on his mind.

"What's the matter, Merlin?"

"There's something I've been meaning to take care of for a while now, and today seems like the right time to do it, only I'm not sure how... I could use your help, but I'm afraid you'll be angry."

"Well, you've certainly piqued my curiosity, so you might as well tell me your problem."

Despite this invitation, he still hesitated before asking, "How much do you know about the way Mordred died?"

"Everything - I Saw many things during those three days in the temple, including his death," was Morgana's rather stiff reply. Then her features softened. "I also Saw that he regretted his actions in the end, and even tried to atone by telling you where to find me. I suppose I owe him some measure of gratitude for that, because if you hadn't arrived when you did..." Her voice trailed off as her eyes darkened at the memory of how close she had come to giving up.

Merlin seemed to be thinking the same thing, because his grip on her hand tightened as if to reassure himself that she was really there, safe and sound. Even now, it still scared him to think of how he'd almost lost her without even knowing it.

"Put it out of your mind, my love," she urged him while pressing closer and resting her head on his shoulder. "I'm here, and we'll never be parted again - even if it is a bit galling that we have Mordred to thank for that. Now, what did you want to tell me about him?"

Forcing his thoughts off the dark path they had started down, he said, "I know his change of heart in the moment before his death wasn't enough to make up for all the things he did, but I do believe his remorse was genuine...so I couldn't just leave him there. I took his body from Camlann, but I haven't been able to figure out what to do with it."

"Yes, that is quite a dilemma," Morgana agreed, a frown creasing her forehead. "He wasn't actually related to Cenred, so a burial in Escetia is out of the question, and the royal crypt of Dagon is off-limits to bastards - although, since he was conceived through dark enchantments without your knowledge or consent, I'm not even sure if the laws of magic would recognize him as such."

"I wouldn't put him there anyway. Regardless of what he did to make up for it, Mordred's actions caused so much pain that it's probably best if no one knows where his body lies."

"Then why not bury him here, on this hill? It's fairly secluded, and I believe those few days he spent with you here in Dagon were the only time in his life when he was truly happy."

"Here?" Merlin looked around at the grass, which was dotted with wildflowers, waving in the breeze and the smooth, glassy surface of the lake, and quickly warmed to the idea. "You're right, I do think he was happy here, and nobody could ask for a more peaceful resting place. Thank you, Morgana - I knew you would know what to do."

With their combined magic, they made short work of digging the grave; then, with a wave of Merlin's hand as if he were drawing back a shroud, Mordred's body, which he had kept hidden away and carefully preserved since the battle of Camlann, appeared before them. Merlin started to position him over the freshly dug grave at once, but Morgana held up her hand, signaling him to wait while she walked over to where Mordred hung suspended in midair for one last look.

Thanks to Merlin's enchantments, he looked just as he had on the day he died, apart from the serene expression she had never seen him wear in life. She gazed long and hard at his motionless features, searching the depths of her heart as she grappled with her feelings for him - after what he had done to her, after everything she had suffered as a direct result of him leaving her alone and powerless, she should hate him, should rejoice at his ignominious end, and yet... "I pitied him, you know," she said softly. "Just before he stripped me of my magic and my memories, when he told me what his life had been...I couldn't help it. It seems strange that I should still feel any shred of that sympathy now, doesn't it? Yet there were so many things he had no control over, his mind twisted by dark magic and by Agravaine misleading him at every turn..."

"I know - and I did wonder at the end, if he'd lived another life, or if we had done more to help him find another path when he came to us, if things might have been different-"

"I doubt it."

"Kilgharrah?" Merlin whirled around at the familiar sound of the dragon's voice, wondering how such an enormous creature could be so stealthy. "How did you find us?"

The gigantic beast's wings lifted in a motion redolent of a shrug. "You are a dragonlord, Merlin, and I am a dragon; I always know where to find you."

"And you don't believe we failed Mordred in some way?" Morgana asked hopefully.

"No, little witch - or should I say, my lady? After all, you are the High Priestess now."

"Yes, but don't let that stop you from being your usual condescending self. Things are changing so rapidly that it's comforting to have a few familiar things to cling to," she said dryly.

A puff of smoke escaped Kilgharrah's mouth along with his chuckle. "Very well. As you know, I too am a seer, though my Sight is not the same as yours. You See things that may come to pass in the future, while I See, among other things, what might have been had the events that shape our current reality transpired differently. Sometimes these differences are small; sometimes, they are great enough to change the world as we know it. I have Seen many worlds, and in all of them, Mordred eventually turned against Arthur for one reason or another."

"Then perhaps there is something to this idea of destiny after all." Merlin didn't look comforted by the thought.

"Or perhaps every possible version of Mordred simply made poor choices." Morgana reached out and squeezed his hand, which seemed to soothe him a little. "At least we know his downfall was not of our making."

"Yet your melancholy persists nonetheless," Kilgharrah observed. "What else is troubling you?"

"It's just that these last few days have been hard," Merlin confessed in a low, somewhat strained voice. "There's been far too much death lately, but this is the first time Morgana and I have had to say goodbye to someone since we..."

"Since you realized they have gone where you can never follow?" Kilgharrah asked gently. "Yes, the ramifications of immortality can be quite sobering. Still, you will not be alone - your friends' descendants will reign alongside you for generations to come."

"It won't be the same, though," Morgana said sadly, "and in time we'll lose them too."

"Yes, but one day you may regain some of what you will lose. Remember, Merlin and Arthur are no mere kings, or even High Kings - they are the Once and Future Kings, destined to lead the realm in this age and the next, with their queens by their side. Take heart, both of you, for when Albion's need is greatest, Arthur and Guinevere will rise again."

With those words, the Great Dragon spread his wings and leapt skyward, leaving them staring after him in amazement.

"Do you think he's right?" Morgana asked as they watched him soar off toward the horizon. "Do you really think there's a chance Arthur and Gwen might return to us someday?"

"Kilgharrah usually knows what he's talking about, as much as anyone can when it comes to prophecy. And who knows, if Arthur and Gwen can be reborn, or resurrected, or whatever he meant, maybe our other friends might somehow find their way back to us too, in some form. Maybe in another lifetime, Mordred can find whatever he was searching for that eluded him in this one."

They lowered Mordred's body into his grave, then sent the displaced earth cascading in to cover him and arranged several large stones in a cairn to mark the spot, though without any engravings to reveal whose burial site it was. Their task completed, they walked away hand in hand, their hearts considerably lighter than before.

Well, this is it - only one more chapter left now! And this time you can all feel safe reading it, because I promise there will be no last-minute twists or sequel hooks. This really is the end, guys.