All righty, here's another update. Now that I think, can't be more than three or four chapters at most from here guys... wow. End of an era. But before that, here's a not so final (filler) update!

A hunched figure sat on a cold, stone throne, matted dark hair hanging in front of their face. It was Morgana Pendragon, and there was an eery stillness about her as she sat in her icy fortress. No longer did a fiery passion burn through her veins as it had these past years—the loss of Mordred, her one last friend in this miserable world, had staunched it out entirely. But something had replaced the heat.

No longer was the heart within her chest hot to the touch—it was now cold, and misshapen, frozen over entirely. It did not yearn for the throne, for whatever she had craved before all of this, but sought only one end—Arthur's death. Even if it cost her everything she had left, which was not much... he would die.

The doors before her opened, and in stepped three of her men. She did not look up.

"My lady, we've searched every valley, every gorge, every gully," Beroun bowed his head, stepping forward. "The King is nowhere to be found."

Morgana lifted her head in a sudden movement, burning cold rage exploding from her as she shouted, "I WANT HIM DEAD!"

"We've looked—"

Morgana slammed her fist on the throne, clenching her hand as her eyes glowed bright. One of them men fell to the ground, dead in a flash.

"Find him," she spoke in a whisper this time, a threat in her voice. Beroun and the other Saxon, disturbed, dragged the dead man out of the room and shut the doors behind them.

The moment the sun began to rise, so did the small group hidden in the forest wake to head for Avalon. But something occurred to Merlin as they were packing up their things.

"Remember how you got away from Morgana, outside the cave?" he asked Hermione, who turned away from her horse to gaze at him with uncertainty.

"Yes," she said slowly. "Apparition. She probably would have killed me if I hadn't done it."

"This Apparition thing... is it possible for you to bring other people with you?"

Hermione turned her face to the side, heart sinking in her chest. She should have suspected either Gaius or Merlin might mention it—and she'd be lying if she said she hadn't considered it already. But it was simply too dangerous; she had already Splinched herself something awful just Apparating herself away.

Granted, it had been quite a while since she'd done it, and she was in a weak state at the time. But Side-Along Apparition was much more difficult, and with someone already gravely injured? Terror seized her heart at the thought of arriving at their destination, only for Arthur to topple over dead because the magical journey had been too much on him or worse, he was Splinched to pieces.

"It is, but I can't do it," she finally turned her face to look at him again, then focused on clasping shut the saddlebag.

Merlin seemed surprised. "But... you're such an accomplished witch. Surely, you'd be able to do it."

She sighed, stopping her work. "I can, and I have. But I'm not going to do it, not with you and Arthur."

Flabbergasted, he pulled a face and drew closer. "Why not? He's dying, Hermione—he doesn't have much time! If there's a way to get to Avalon faster, we need to use it!"

"I know that," she snapped, and then immediately felt guilty for it as he looked at her like he didn't know her. "I'm sorry, but it's far too dangerous with the shape he's in, the state I'm in. I already Splinched myself only Apparating alone. To try and Apparate all three of us to Avalon while he's so weak... I can't risk worsening his injury."

"You wouldn't," Merlin insisted, eyes glued to hers. "You're careful. You were trying to run away from Morgana before, you were in a panic... if you concentrate now, I know you can get us there safely."

Hermione glanced towards Arthur, who was sitting up against a fallen log, his face more ashen than she would have liked. He shifted, and instantly winced, his head falling back in pain. Hermione shook her head then.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, swallowing hard. "Let's help him onto a horse."

As expected, Merlin was not so pleased with her defiance on the matter, and his face betrayed his disappointment. He understood her fears, but he was too scared to lose Arthur and fail his destiny. Risky as it was, he would have done it himself if he knew how. Hermione dropped her gaze to the ground as Merlin turned his back on her, going over wordlessly to help Arthur up. Gaius watched her with pity, holding the reigns of his own horse.

"Come on, then," Merlin said quietly, bending to help Arthur up.

"I don't need your help," Arthur argued, though leaned into him all the same whilst pulling himself off the ground.

"Whether or not you think you need it, you're getting it."

Arthur pursed his lips and allowed Merlin to get him to his horse. Somehow, they were able to maneuver him on top of the creature, and he sat slumped.

"Hermione," Arthur called to her, and the witch stopped tending her own horse, approaching him. She exchanged a quick look with Merlin, guilt still in her eyes, and he passed her to go over to Gaius.

Hermione watched as Arthur struggled to pull something off from around his neck—he offered it finally. It was the Royal Seal. Wide-eyed, she looked from him to the object in his hand, then back at him.

"The Royal Seal?" she frowned hard. "Arthur, you're still breathing. There's no need—"

"Just in case," he pressed, shoving it towards her insistently. "There's no one I trust more to wield the power this offers. Please, hold onto it."

She could see how important this was to him, the urgency in his tired eyes. Reluctantly, she took the seal from him, putting it around her own neck.

"This will be back around your neck in no time," she promised in fake cheery voice.

Meanwhile, Merlin relayed important information to Gaius for when he returned to Camelot.

"You know I was betrayed. The girl, Eira cannot be trusted." Gaius, appearing troubled, nodded.

"I know." He would have no choice but to take action once back in the citadel. Merlin trusted him to resolve the problem. But there was one more thing.

Lowering his eyes, Merlin asked, "How long does he have?"

"At best... two days."

Merlin clenched his fists at his sides, saying nothing for a moment. He turned away, knowing there was absolutely no time to be wasted.

"Merlin," Gaius halted him.

The warlock blinked back some of the tears that had risen to his eyes, turned on his heel, and walked over to hug Gaius intensely. The physician embraced him with love, and when they parted, he said, "I'll have your favorite meal waiting for you." He stepped back. "Now go. Look after him. Go."

Merlin backed away, missing the way Gaius looked at him as if it were the last chance he would ever have to do so. He collected the reins to his and Arthur's horse, and led them away. Hermione trailed after on her own horse, and bowed her head at Gaius.

"We'll see you soon," she told him, a hopefulness to her voice. He smiled sadly at her, eventually losing sight of them in the trees altogether.

Gwaine stared out of the window in his living quarters, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were glossed over, but the moment he heard shuffling near the door, he blinked away the wetness. Eira approached him slowly, sensing that he was upset. It never occurred to her that it had to do with her being a traitor, but rather she assumed he was concerned for his king.

"Hey, what is it?" She placed her hand on his arm, feigning the utmost worry over his state. "Tell me."

Gwaine turned his face to look at her, strangely stiff. "Can't."

"Why not? Is it the King? What's happened to him?" She was getting nowhere, and was growing frustrated. "Gwaine? Is he dead?"

"No." Gwaine stared at her.

"How do you know? Where is he?" She pouted lightly. "Gwaine? Don't you trust me?"

His voice caught in his throat, but only for a moment before he lied, "I do."

She seemed a little relieved, and smiled softly. "Then tell me."

Arthur, Merlin, and Hermione rode slowly across the plains, Merlin leading the trio as he knew how to guide them to Avalon. Hermione kept glancing every so often in Arthur's direction, driving herself mad looking for signs that he was about to keel over on them. But he was surprisingly resilient—though she shouldn't be surprised by that at all. When Arthur had his mind set to something, he always found a way to achieve it. And she knew he had no intentions of giving in to his wound so soon and leaving her and their children without him.

Just as she looked away from the king, she became aware of two men in the distance galloping right toward them. Merlin raised his hand for the others to slow behind him, saying, "Saxons."

He then hopped down from his horse, grabbing a blanket from his saddle and hastily throwing it over Arthur. Hermione braced herself for the confrontation, doing her best to wear a poker face. She hid the Royal Seal under her shirt and just as she looked down, she panicked for a brief second as she realized her Camelot-made sword would be a dead giveaway. They were still further away—she snatched the sword up and opened up her purse, dropping it inside before reassuming a casual position on her steed.

"I'll deal with them," Merlin told them both, then focusing on Arthur, "Keep your head down. Don't speak."

Arthur pulled the edges of the blanket further around his face, briefly side-eyeing Hermione before lowering his head. She watched as Merlin stepped away and looked ahead, concentrating. A sudden plume of smoke rose from the forest in the distance. The Saxons neared, and he faced them.

Suddenly switching his demeanor entirely, he fidgeted, putting panic into his voice as he called out, "Help us! Please you have to help us. We were ambushed!"

The two men dismounted their horses, hands on the hilts at their hips while eyeing the group suspiciously. Hermione glanced between them, allowing Merlin to handle the situation but preparing to jump into action if necessary.

"By who?" One of the Saxons inquired, stopping before Merlin.

"These two men," Merlin said quickly.

"What did they look like?" The Saxon pressed.

"Um..." Merlin paused, glancing back. Hermione followed his glance—Excalibur! "One was a knight. They stormed our camp." He pointed them towards the smoke, and while they turned around he ran over to Arthur to cover the sword hastily with the edge of the blanket. Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat as the Saxon men faced them again, nearly catching Merlin.

"You're sure it was a Camelot knight?"

Merlin feebly lied, "Yeah."

The Saxon pushed Merlin back with his palm, walking over to Arthur. He threw the blanket off the sword, and Hermione's hand went up only a few seconds too late— Merlin raised his arms and sent the men flying backward with a simple spell. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as Merlin whirled around. Arthur watched him with disappointment in his dull eyes.

"You've lied to me all this time," he said lowly. Merlin looked away, walking back to his horse with his eyes cast downward. Hermione frowned but said nothing, lightly digging her heels in to prompt her horse forward as the group resumed their journey.

Eventually the trio lost light and were forced to make camp in the woods. Hermione worked at spreading out her own blankets up after setting Arthur up comfortably whilst Merlin worked on the fire. He unsuccessfully worked with flints, trying to create a spark while Arthur watched on silently. Finally, he spoke up.

"Why don't you use magic?" There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice, and Hermione paused with her back to them, listening in case she needed to mediate.

Merlin glanced up, offering the tiniest, bashful smile. "Habit, I suppose." He was at least glad to hear something other than disappointment or disgust in Arthur's voice. Hermione lost her stiffness, and pulled out a blanket from her purse to wrap around herself and lie down. Though she knew she needed to rest, she couldn't help but keep listening in on the men talk. Meanwhile, Arthur bowed his head a little, his eyes clearly giving Merlin permission to do what he needed. It was very cold.

Merlin stared down at the wood and his eyes flashed golden. A baby flame sparked up and began to spread, the fire started.

"Feels strange," Merlin admitted, shifting his gaze around awkwardly.

"Yeah," Arthur agreed. "I thought I knew you."

Merlin began unrolling his own blanket. "I'm still the same person."

There was a moment of silence before Arthur spoke again. "I trusted you."

More silence ensued, and Hermione clenched her fists in the material of her blanket, staring wide-eyed at the log on the ground in front of her.

"I'm sorry," Merlin finally answered, voice low.

Arthur hesitated before replying, "I'm sorry, too."

Hermione heard crunching, but could not see as Merlin moved over to Arthur and began pulling off his boots. Arthur stared at him incredulously.

"What are you doing?"

Merlin shrugged lightly, setting the boots before the fire.

"They need drying."

Hermione heard more shuffling, and then nothing beyond the soft crackling of the fire as the two men seemingly settled in to rest for at least a few hours. Somewhat at ease by the words that had been exchanged, she snuggled down deeper and eventually fell asleep.

Eira walked down a castle corridor with a basket in her hands, a blanket resting over the top. Peeking around, she slipped into an empty room and set the basket on a table. She peeled the blanket back and reached in to pull out a messenger crow, a message attached to its leg. Walking up to the window, she released the creature into the night.

Suddenly stepping out from the shadows, Gwaine walked up behind her.

"Eira," he said lowly, eyes dark.

She jumped and whirled around. Stammering, she began, "I was just—"

"Sending word to Morgana?" He tilted his head at her, jaw set.

"No! I would never betray the king!"

"Well, that's good, because you haven't," Gwaine said, mustering a dull sarcasm. "You'll be sending Morgana in the complete opposite direction, towards Brineved."

"Gwaine, no, please!" She was distraught, and he turned away from her.

"Guards!"

Two stormed in to drag Eira away, all while she called Gwaine's name and begged. He kept his eyes trained on the wall, angry tears filling them. As Eira was dragged outside the room, down the corridor, Gaius watched on with a disappointed but steady gaze.