After bidding farewell to Arthur, Merlin led Mordred back to the place where he'd tethered Dyson's horse, which he had appropriated for their mad dash to catch up with Alvarr's band. The wolf had already returned to Bo and Morgana, but had nodded his assent when Merlin asked if he could keep the horse; it wasn't as if walking back to the city would be a hardship for him. Despite the late hour, Merlin swung himself into the saddle, then pulled Mordred up behind him and nudged the stallion into a brisk walk; the faster they put some distance between themselves and the knights, as well as any of Alvarr's followers who might have escaped, the better.

They rode all night and well into the next day before Merlin decided it was safe to stop and rest. After watering the horse and removing his bridle so he could graze in the small clearing they had been lucky enough to come across, he returned to their campsite to find that Mordred had gathered some nuts and berries for their dinner.

He accepted the portion Mordred offered him with mild surprise, which he quickly realized was foolish - having grown up in forests like this one, it made perfect sense that Mordred would be highly adept at foraging for edible plants.

When he asked, the boy readily confirmed his assumption before asking a question of his own. "I don't suppose you have to do much foraging in the city, do you?"

"Only when Gaius sends me out to gather herbs for his medicines. When I camp with Arthur, we always bring provisions, and sometimes he adds whatever small game he can find. He never helps prepare our meals, though." Perhaps it was the fact that Mordred had done so without even being asked that had surprised Merlin, rather than his capability.

"Why do you do that?"

Looking up from his handful of berries, he found Mordred watching him curiously, head tilted at an inquisitive angle. "Do what?"

"Earlier, when you spoke of Arthur and your conviction that he'll be a great king, you seemed to admire him a great deal, but now you sound...exasperated with him?"

"I do believe Arthur will be a great king," Merlin said at once. "He's brave, honorable, and a lot kinder and smarter than he lets on. Unfortunately, he's also the world's biggest prat."

Mordred pondered that for a moment before saying, "Your friendship with him sounds complicated."

"You're right about that," Merlin agreed with a slight laugh. "Lots of things in life are complicated when you grow up, and it only gets worse the older you get." He thought of his childhood in Ealdor, which had been a simple existence - in his younger days, the villagers had barely even noticed he was different, and only truly started looking askance at him as he neared adolescence - and compared it to his life in Camelot, with all its dangers and relationships that were so much more complex than his steadfast, unwavering love for his mother and his friendship with Will, who had been a bit of a troublemaker at times but had not been an arrogant dollop head with hidden insecurities and an almost pathological aversion to expressing gratitude for Merlin's efforts on his behalf...and of course, there were no girls in Ealdor who were even remotely like Bo or Morgana.

He never could have imagined living the life he had now when he was Mordred's age, yet when he asked himself whether he would go back to those simpler days if he could, he found that the answer was a resounding 'no'. Tearing his gaze away from the fire and looking back at Mordred, who was now watching him with a dubious expression, clearly not encouraged by his words, he went on, "It gets harder, but don't let that scare you. Sometimes the hardest things in life are the ones most worth fighting for."

###

Their journey continued for more than a week, during which they learned a lot from one another - having grown up in a farming village, Merlin already knew how to live off the land in that setting, but Mordred was able to fill in the gaps in his knowledge of forest dwelling, while Merlin taught the boy how to care for a horse (horses being a luxury few druids could afford to keep) and shared stories of what life was like in Camelot's capital city.

Eventually their discourse turned to more personal matters, and Merlin began to peel back the layers of mystery surrounding the enigmatic child prophecy had named as Arthur's doom - and as he did, he was surprised at how much of himself he saw in the boy. Although it wasn't clear if Mordred was also born with magic (Hunith had mentioned that the first signs of Merlin's power had manifested within an hour of his birth, but since Mordred had been orphaned at an early age, there was no one to share such details with him) his aptitude for it had been clear almost from the beginning, and his powers had developed quickly once his druid mentors began training him.

Like Merlin, he felt an instinctive connection with his magic, felt that it was an integral part of his identity, though he hadn't spent nearly as much time questioning its purpose, why he of all people was granted such a gift, if that was what it was... Merlin got the impression that this was because, unlike him, Mordred had spent his childhood among people for whom magic was simply a fact of life, rather than something that set him apart. Still, he listened intently as Merlin explained the beliefs he'd formed during his time in Camelot that magic was meant to be a force for good, that it should be used to protect those who couldn't protect themselves, and seemed to take his words to heart. By the time they neared the end of their second week together, he felt much more optimistic that Mordred would never again take lightly the power he wielded, or use it to harm an innocent person.

It was also around that time that he started to wonder if there were any druids left within Camelot's borders, or if Uther had finally succeeded in exterminating or driving out every last one of them. At last, as they passed through the fields surrounding some of Camelot's most far-flung villages, just when he was seriously considering the possibility that they might have to continue their search in one of the neighboring kingdoms, he felt the faintest whisper of magic brush his mind, beckoning him to the woods that lay beyond the seemingly endless waves of wheat.

Reinvigorated by the hope that their quest might have come to an end at last, Merlin urged the horse into a trot, then slowed him back to a walk once they reached the cool shade of the forest. He looked around eagerly, yet saw no one. Where are you? I mean you no harm; show yourselves.

Three cloaked figures answered his summons, materializing out of the shadows so smoothly that they almost seemed to be part of the forest themselves.

Mordred seemed to recognize them, jumping down from his seat behind Merlin before their horse had come to a complete stop and running toward the gray-haired man in the middle. "Iseldir!"

The man stepped forward to meet him, holding his arms out as Mordred rushed into them. "Mordred - I can't tell you what a relief it is to see you alive and well. When I heard of Aglain's death, I feared the worst." Looking up at Merlin, who hadn't had time to dismount yet, he added, "You have my gratitude, Emrys, for once again seeing the boy safely returned to us."

"It was Arthur who brought him back to you last time, actually," Merlin reminded the druid elder as he swung down from his saddle.

"Not without your aid, though...or your influence, I suspect." He held a hand out in invitation. "You must be hungry after a long day's ride. Come, eat with us."

Part of Merlin wanted to refuse, to turn around at once and ride back to Camelot - back to Bo and Morgana, both of whom he missed so fiercely that it was like a constant nagging ache - but he knew his horse could use the rest, and if he was honest, so could he. "Thank you."

###

During their meal, Mordred told Iseldir and his companions the full story of what had befallen him after Aglain and so many of his band were killed in Arthur's misguided attempt to 'rescue' Morgana - the few survivors had scattered to the winds, though Iseldir was able to tell the boy what had become of some of them, much to Mordred's obvious relief and happiness - with Merlin filling in what details he could. Afterward, while the others rested, Iseldir invited Merlin to walk with him, the two of them traversing a short distance and coming to the banks of a small stream before the druid elder finally spoke.

"It seems I owe you a greater debt than I knew, Emrys - not only for returning Mordred to us a second time, but for turning him from the path of violence he'd started down, a path that would have led him to no good end."

Something in the man's demeanor - the profound look of relief in his eyes, perhaps, or the tone of his voice, which hinted at a deeper knowledge of where that path would have led than his words betrayed - made Merlin ask, "Did you know there were prophecies about Mordred?"

"Of course. Just as your name has been known to us for generations, Emrys, along with that of the Once and Future King, so have we known of the one destined to end his reign."

"But you still took him in and taught him to use magic?" Merlin tried to keep the accusation out of his voice, but wasn't sure if he was completely successful.

"We do not believe destiny is set in stone," Iseldir replied, meeting his incredulous look with a steady gaze. "Prophecies can offer useful guidance, or warnings, but they are not absolute. There are many prophecies which have never been fulfilled. We strove to teach Mordred to use his gifts for good, to impart to him our beliefs that hatred and violence only beget more of the same, in the hope that his destiny could be changed - as I believe you yourself have tried to do for another."

Merlin's heart sped up, thudding loudly against his ribs; there was only one person Iseldir could be referring to, and his choice of words was disquieting. "You know about Morgana?"

The older man nodded solemnly. "Much has been foretold about her as well."

"Why did you say I've tried to change her destiny? Does that mean..." Merlin's mouth suddenly went dry, forcing him to take a drink from his canteen before he could choke out, "Have I failed?"

"The Lady Morgana's ultimate fate has yet to be decided. Her greatest test is fast approaching, when her choices, and yours, may very well shape the course she will follow for the rest of her life."

"Then I need to get back to her." Merlin's heart was still racing, his hands almost shaking with the feeling of desperation surging through him, and for a moment he couldn't seem to move at all, until Iseldir kindly reminded him that it would be prudent to refill his waterskins before setting off on his return journey.

"Take care, Emrys. It's true that there is no time to waste, but do travel safely. It will do no one any good if, in your haste, you kill yourself or your horse through exhaustion or lack of preparation before you reach Camelot."

###

Heeding Iseldir's advice, Merlin took the most direct route back to the capital, his path a lot straighter now that he wasn't making detours to search for druids everywhere he could think of, and rode faster than he had with Mordred, but still took time to rest, eat, and care for his faithful mount each night. This approach allowed him to shave a few days off his travel time while still reaching his destination in relatively good condition.

Arriving in the dead of night, he quickly brushed the horse and saw that he was properly stabled with plenty of hay and water before making his way into the castle. Gaius was certain to be sound asleep at this hour, and he wasn't the person (or people) Merlin was most anxious to see anyway, so he bypassed the familiar turn that led to the physician's quarters, instead climbing the stairs to the upper floors where the royal family and other high-ranking nobles lived.

Morgana's door was locked, but it swung open at his whispered incantation. Pausing in the doorway, he was relieved to see that she didn't appear to be in any immediate trouble - unless one counted the fact that Bo had been in the process of removing her nightgown when his unexpected entrance caused them to spring apart, leaving her somewhat tangled up.

"Merlin!" she exclaimed while struggling to free her hands from the sleeves. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"Not that we aren't glad to see you," Bo added. She crossed the room with quick strides, pulled him inside and pushed the door shut behind him, then proceeded to demonstrate how glad she was with a kiss that made his toes curl inside his boots.

Morgana joined them as soon as she managed to pull her partially lowered gown back over her shoulders, pressing in close and claiming Merlin's lips for herself once Bo had had her fill. While he kissed Morgana, the succubus went to work untying his scarf, then removed his arms from around herself and their girlfriend so she could push his jacket off his shoulders.

"Did you miss me that badly," Merlin asked once his mouth was free, "or are you just hungry?" Her bright blue eyes seemed to lend credence to the latter theory. "Didn't Morgana feed you while I was gone?"

"She did her best," Bo replied with a shrug, "but..." She let her voice trail off, not wanting to spoil their happy reunion by explaining how Uther was keeping such a close eye on them that their time together had become much more limited - in fact, this was the first time she'd been able to sneak into Morgana's room all week - or revealing the arranged marriages hanging over their heads.

Uther was still procrastinating in giving Bayard a final answer about Morgana's proposed match with Urien, though he had invited the Mercian king to Camelot for further discussions, and while he was forging ahead with the betrothal between Bo and Leon, he'd hit a snag with Leon's aunt. Lady Ermengarde wasn't thrilled with the idea of her nephew marrying a foreigner, though she was prepared to accept it as long as Uther provided a decent dowry; the king was willing to do this to secure an arrangement he truly believed was in everyone's best interests, but his negotiations with Ermengarde had stalled as they haggled over the amount of money and certain other favors she demanded. In light of these delays, Bo thought they could afford to put off any unpleasant conversations about their future until morning.

Sensing that there was something she wasn't telling him - something that troubled her - Merlin looked to Morgana with a puzzled frown. "What's the matter? Did she wear you out?"

Morgana, however, was equally reluctant to discuss such weighty matters at this late hour. "That must be it," she confirmed, lowering her eyes in a show of what he took for embarrassment but was actually guilt at her fib. "My magic isn't as strong as yours." That, at least, was perfectly true.

"Not yet. You just need more practice," Bo said confidently, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "In the meantime, I could really use a snack."

She stretched up on her toes for another kiss, and Merlin melted into it, willingly offering up his energy. It wasn't until the two women began stripping him of his clothing, pausing now and then to kiss him or each other, that he regained the presence of mind to blurt out, "Wait... Morgana...do you mind...?"

"No," she replied with a wicked grin as she ran her hands over his bare chest, "I don't mind at all." Seeing his brow furrow in a mixture of surprise and confusion - previously, she had always left the room when he and Bo started undressing one another - she sighed and said more seriously, "Bo needs to feed; I can hardly begrudge her for doing what must be done, but I'm not going to be driven out of my own chambers. Besides, I've never seen the two of you together, and..." She bit her lip as a sudden bout of shyness took hold of her. "I have to admit my curiosity is aroused."

"Well," Bo said with a smirk, "I think we can arouse more than that."

She kissed Morgana once more, this time drawing out enough of her chi to leave the younger girl dazed and weak in the knees while the hand not tangled in her glossy black tresses busied itself with undoing the fastenings of Merlin's pants, and the threesome soon fell into bed together...blissfully unaware that they were being watched.

###

Having decided that enough time had passed for her machinations to have borne fruit, Morgause had chosen that night to use her crystal to get a look at the goings-on in Camelot, expecting to find Uther dead and Arthur desperate to fend off retaliatory attacks from fellow rulers and perhaps even some of his own nobles who wouldn't approve of him murdering his father in order to gain his inheritance sooner, or at least to find new allies if the other kings and queens merely shunned him rather than undertaking the troublesome endeavor of an all out war - desperate enough, Morgause hoped, that he would welcome her with open arms when she swooped in with promises of subduing his detractors and brokering a new alliance with the neighboring kingdom ruled by her friend and sometime lover, Cenred...in exchange for a position of power in Arthur's court, of course.

Instead, she had been appalled and infuriated to see that Uther still lived, and although there was a certain distance in the prince's eyes when he looked at his father as they dined together, he did not seem inclined to correct that undesirable state of affairs any time soon. After venting her rage at the incomprehensible failure of her grand scheme to rid the world of Uther Pendragon and gain influence over his son - influence she would have used to reshape Camelot as she saw fit, perhaps even to depose Arthur one day and rule in his stead - she decided to take another look inside the castle, to see how her sister was faring, and received another shock.

Morgause had been raised by priestesses of the Old Religion on the Isle of the Blessed, where she had spent her adolescence among other female initiates of a similar age, cloistered away from men, so she was hardly unfamiliar with the concept of women seeking pleasure with one another - in fact, she had learned to enjoy the company of other women so much that she still took female lovers on occasion, even now that she was free to bring men into her bed whenever she wished - but she hadn't thought her sister, who had received the conventional, sheltered upbringing of a proper lady, would even have realized such a thing was possible, let alone been tempted to sample the delights of the fairer sex for herself.

When Morgana's paramour was revealed to be a succubus, however, her sister's adventurousness made a lot more sense. Morgause used to think Morgana was horribly unlucky to have spent so many years under Uther's thumb, but as she watched them kiss, the blonde decided she might have to revise her opinion. Clearly, Morgana was very lucky indeed.

Then they were joined by Arthur's serving boy, and Morgause's envy turned to bewilderment. She supposed the boy had a certain appeal despite his nearly malnourished appearance, yet she couldn't fathom what reason a high-born lady like Morgana and a beautiful succubus who probably also possessed some degree of noble blood could possibly have for consorting with a mere servant. When they moved toward the bed, however, she roused herself from her stunned stupor just in time to end her scrying spell; regardless of how attractive Morgana's partners were, she wasn't going to watch them make love, just in case her sister decided to do more than watch. She also had a great deal of work to do, and the things she saw in her crystal had only given her more to think about.

Now that Arthur had proven himself too weak to avenge his mother, to redress his father's innumerable crimes, she needed a new plan. The Knights of Medhir, which she had originally thought would be useful in delivering the aid she'd intended to offer Arthur - and for serving as her own personal enforcers once she had secured her position as Camelot's chief chancellor - still had a part to play, but as formidable as they were, they weren't enough. She needed an ally inside the kingdom, so perhaps it was time to reach out to her sister once more.

Admittedly, Morgana hadn't been quite as receptive to her overtures during their all-too-brief meeting as she would have liked, but sometimes forming alliances was simply a matter of applying the right leverage...and now that she knew about Morgana's illicit romance - a romance Uther would undoubtedly put a stop to if he discovered it - she knew exactly how to win her sister over.

With her confidence that Camelot would soon be in her grasp renewed, the sorceress got back to work.

###

Bo, Merlin, and Morgana had just awoken the next morning (and were about to pick up where they'd left off the previous night) when a sharp rapping on the bedchamber's door forced them to pry themselves off of each other.

"One moment, Gwen," Morgana called out as they scrambled to make themselves decent. "At least she makes a habit of knocking now."

After checking that both of her paramours were sufficiently covered, she gave her maid permission to enter, and Gwen walked in with the breakfast tray carefully balanced in her hands, determined not to react to whatever she saw - only to let out a cry of delighted surprise at the sight of Merlin and almost drop the tray anyway. Luckily, Morgana caught it before it slipped from her grasp and levitated it onto the table, freeing Gwen to rush over to Merlin and hug him the instant he finished tugging his shirt over his head.

"I didn't know you were back! When did you get here?"

"Late last night. I passed by your house, but the windows were already dark."

Gwen nodded understandingly; though she wouldn't have minded a late-night visit from her good friend, she knew Merlin was too considerate to wake her up. "Well, Arthur will be pleased to hear you've returned; one of the castle servants, George, has been filling in for you, and even though Arthur says his service is impeccable, I think George's brass jokes are wearing on his nerves."

###

Contrary to Gwen's prediction, Arthur did not look particularly pleased when Merlin finally escaped his girlfriends' clutches after breakfast and caught up with the prince on his way to the throne room, instead greeting Merlin's appearance with a distracted frown and barely breaking stride to acknowledge him.

"I should've known it would take more than three weeks to improve your attitude," Merlin sighed. "Look, I'm sorry I was gone so long, but you have no idea how hard it was to find even a single druid in this kingdom. I finally met some, though, and Mordred's safe with them-"

"It's not that," Arthur interrupted. "Trust me, I've been enjoying the reprieve from your constant babbling. I've just been told that my father's received word of a disturbance in one of the outlying villages."

"What kind of disturbance?" Merlin asked, all thoughts of his travels with Mordred and Arthur's lackluster reaction to his return instantly forgotten as he focused on the potential new threat.

"I'm not entirely sure yet. All I know is that the villager claims to have seen fires in the abandoned castle at Idirsholas."

Next chapter will officially begin the final arc of this story, which according to my best estimation will take about 10 chapters to complete - only 10 chapters left, can you believe it? - so this is probably LIC's last November update ever. One last time, happy Thanksgiving to those of you who celebrate it, and to those who don't, eat some pie anyway. You deserve it for being such an awesome group of readers, and I'm thankful for all of you.

As for the plots described in Morgause's scene, I don't know exactly what she would've done if Arthur had killed Uther like she wanted, but somehow I doubt she would have just left him alone to begin his reign and hoped he'd be a better king than his father. I suspect she would've had other plans for our favorite prince, and this was my theory as to what those plans might have been.