GUYS I MADE MY DEADLINE! I'm so proud of myself. ^^ I should probably stop apologizing for every single chapter, but sorry this one is once again rushed.

And I leave you... with a little piece of my thesis research which happens to be relevant:

Do you not know that by your silence you join the accuser and accuse yourself? ~Sophocles (Chorus in Women of Trachis, ln. 814)

"Arthur." Even the single word seemed unnaturally loud in the silence that had followed Morgause's departure.

"I have the feeling I missed something important," Gwaine put in, looking from Arthur to Merlin in search of some explanation. Even his indomitable cheer had faded to quiet bewilderment on relocating the two. Merlin didn't seem keen on offering one any more than Arthur at the moment. Arthur looked down and rubbed the pad of his thumb over the letters on the thick, legal paper. The feeling sent shivers down his spine.

"You don't even know if what she said was true," Merlin said. Don't I? Arthur clenched his teeth over an angry retort. Merlin didn't seem to fully understand the import of what Morgause had just given him. This kind of scandal… this was the sort that politicians thrived on: the kind of thing they tried to destroy one another with. It would be so easy to dismiss the whole story as a lie, and yet she had come to him—not to the press. She wanted him to know… to see what had happened. She intended no harm to him, even though she, knowing his location and being face-to-face with him could have hurt him, even killed him or turned him over as collateral to the rebels. Instead she had spoken to him, as one reasonable person to another, with the supreme confidence that she knew the truth. This was not a public attack on Uther: it was personal.

"What do you call this then?" he said tautly. He let the papers fall to the bench and stared down at them. Proof of at least part of Morgause's story… he himself was exhibit A: more tangible than any ghost of the past Morgause's words could have conjured up.

After a moment's silence, the papers rustled as Merlin picked them up and sat down beside the blond.

"All that you know for certain," he said evenly, tapping the papers now in his lap, "Is what the legal documents tell you. Your mother filed for divorce, and Uther is Morgana's biological father." Arthur clenched his teeth. He'd faced a bloody dragon and come out of it with equanimity, and somehow this had struck a fault-line in his world and shattered his finely crafted veneer of composure.

"The two have to be connected," he said.

"Most likely," Merlin agreed. "But that doesn't mean the rest of what Morgause said is true."

"Do you think she was lying?" Arthur asked and turned his head to look at his friend. He caught a split-second's glimpse of Merlin's face before the man rearranged it, quick to assume an expression of indifference. But Arthur had already seen the small frown and the familiar crease between his friend's eyebrows that meant Merlin was uncomfortable, worried, or both.

"I don't know," Merlin admitted. Ever the optimist, and often the first to sniff out something wrong, Merlin would have been the first to doubt… should have been the one to doubt and seek the positive side of the situation. That he did not this time was enough to make Arthur's heart sink like a stone.

"Everything she said matches with what I know," Arthur said hollowly. "What little Gaius said of my parents' marriage… and why dad refused to talk about her—about anything that happened the year I was born." He took a breath, trying to quell his rising disgust and anger. "He knew about magic—all the time when the rest of the country was dealing with the shock of its revelation, he'd known of it for years… and tried to use it for himself." From the corner of his eye he saw Gwaine's eyes widen, though he thankfully held his peace. Merlin on the other hand, raised his voice in something like a mixture between annoyance and insistence.

"Arthur, even if everything Morgause said is true, your father's conclusion may still be a reasonable one. From his perspective, it looks like this sorceress—Hierea—was manipulating your mother against him. She uncovered his affair with Vivienne Cornwall. Your mother left him as soon as she found out. A day later your mother served him with the divorce papers, and when he went to speak with her, he found her dying in the home of a known sorceress. That doesn't look good, no matter what angle you take." Arthur rested his hands on his knees. Nimueh Hierea was one of the thirty archons who named themselves The Pure. Merlin couldn't fail to recognize the name. She was also known as the infamous traitor: former trusted advisor and friend to the Pendragons. In the stories Arthur had heard though, his mother's death had never been blamed on Nimueh. In fact, Uther spoke of her still less than he did of Ygraine, and that alone seemed strange.

"That still doesn't excuse what he did. He and my mother had known Hierea for years—long before The Pure rose to power. She and my mother were friends. I can't see any reason why she would want to kill my mother. If anything, it should have been in her best interest to stay on the Prime Minister's good side and hope he could affect some change on behalf of her and other magic users."

"Your mother had just died, Arthur. I doubt he was thinking reasonably."

"Reason has little to do with it," Arthur said through his teeth. "He chose to blame magic for what happened rather than face his own guilt over what happened. He asked Hierea to make sure I survived. I don't know what to think of that except that he wanted a living child and was willing to jeopardize my mother's health and safety for that."

"You don't know any of that," Merlin insisted. Arthur hunched his shoulders and looked pointedly away. He recalled a conversation long ago when he was much younger, speaking in hushed tones with Gaius, as if Ygraine's very existence were a taboo topic. Gaius was the only one who had ever spoken of her, and even he had offered very little by way of information: only enough to quell the anxiety of a motherless child.

"I know that my mother's first two pregnancies were difficult for her, and both ended in stillbirth. No one could have expected the third to be easier… or safer. She was always high risk. Magic or no, he knew things could go wrong." He leaned forward, pressing his fingers to his forehead. "I should never have been born. She would have been alive… This whole war wouldn't have happened." Gwaine let out a derisive snort, and Arthur looked sharply up at him.

"With all due respect, princess, I may not have a flaming clue what just happened, but I do know that's not true. This war is a hell of a lot bigger than you. If it hadn't been your father causing a stir or this Hierea woman, someone else would have started it. Your country was a powder keg with that many angry, powerful sorcerers living in it." Merlin fervently nodded his agreement.

"Noneof it is your fault. Your mother gave her life for you willingly. Your father, whether through choice, guilt, or ignorance, made a drastic move, and Nimueh Hierea took things the next step further. You were just unfortunate enough to be caught in the middle of it all." Arthur leaned his face in his hands and scrubbed at his eyes, swallowing hard.

"And let me just get this straight," Gwaine added. "From what you two said, it sounds like you and Merlin just had a run-in with Morgause Fox who just happened to be in the same place as you at the same time, which means someone's keeping track of your movements; nothing suspicious about that. On top of that, she—your father's most prominent political enemy—has presented you with a bit of evidence that there's more to your family story than you knew and painted a picture which presents your father in a negative light. And you're buying it: hook, line, and sinker." Arthur gritted his teeth hard enough that his jaw ached. "Look, I'm not exactly your father's biggest fan, but I think you should give him a chance to explain." Gwaine said.

"Explain what?" Arthur interrupted. "Whatever he believes about this whole incident, he's told the same lies so many times by now he probably thinks they're true."

"You don't have to speak to him, then," Merlin relented. There was a slight trace of anxiety in his voice now that set Arthur on edge. Merlin had been nothing but level and calm up until then. "But at least talk to Gaius. You can trust him to tell you the truth of this. Until then, you can't afford to dwell on it. You told me that your father's actions were always in the best interests of the country. Right now, you have to believe that. Whatever other factors influenced his decisions regarding sorcery, The Pure certainly made it appear a threat to the populace by their actions. Your father is not the only one who feels this way about it." Arthur managed a tiny, mute nod in reply. In some ways it almost didn't matter how much of the story was accurate. Parts of it rang true: enough that he could see there was something wrong. From early childhood he'd recognized that Gaius disapproved of Uther's policies on sorcery, quiet though the older man was about them. That alongside Uther's silence made Morgause's tale unnervingly plausible… Everything he knew of magic, from the injured, frightened boy he'd rescued back in Camelot to Brigid Fyr to Iseldir whose magic had saved Leon—a man sworn to hunt down and kill him… all of it pointed to a conclusion so very different from what Uther had taught him all his life; that Nimueh had never intended harm to his mother; that Uther had chosen to blame and persecute magic rather than face his guilt over his illicit affair that drove Ygraine away and his desperation to have a living son of her.

"Arthur," Merlin interrupted his reverie, nudging Arthur's shoulder as he stood. "We need to get off the street. We can find a hostel and wait here tonight." Arthur heaved himself to his feet again and tried to shove his lingering doubts and fears about Morgause's words to the back of his mind for the moment. It would certainly be better if they got off the street before the lights went out.

"You should give Morgana a call. See if we can meet with her at the station before she and Percival connect with my father," Arthur said. Merlin came up short all of a sudden. His figure went rigid, and Arthur's eyes slid downwards, following the sound of crumpling paper. Merlin's fingers were curling into the documents Morgause had left him. He frowned and tugged the papers out of his friend's hands.

"Merlin?" Gwaine was frowning worriedly at the man, and Arthur opened his mouth to ask if he was alright, alarmed at how pale he suddenly looked.

"Morgana knows where he is too?"

"Of course she does," Arthur said. "Merlin—"

"We need to find your father," Merlin interrupted, "Now." Arthur suppressed a surge of alarm and tried to school his face into an expression of annoyance. He could read the urgency in Merlin's figure and tone as plain as day, but the man wasn't making any sense, and it both frustrated and it concerned him.

"Don't be ridiculous, Merlin. We don't even know if we're still being followed. I'm not going to—" Merlin shook his head in impatient frustration.

"Arthur, I need you to listen for a moment, and I really need you to trust me on this." The look on Merlin's face was enough to tell Arthur that he wasn't going to like this. His eyes narrowed.

"I'm listening," he said, although his voice adopted an edge of defensiveness. Deprived of the papers, Merlin's hands had taken up their old habit of wringing the ends of his worn scarf which he insisted on wearing, seasons notwithstanding. Even if the man hadn't looked almost sick with anxiety, Arthur would've recognized the familiar habit. As far back as he could remember, Merlin had tugged on the scarf whenever he was uncomfortable—particularly when he was talking about something he didn't want to discuss. "Spit it out, Merlin," Arthur prompted with a frown.

"Everything you just heard from Morgause, Morgana already knows," Merlin said in a rush. "She's been in contact with Fox ever since she started her involvement with the amnesty movement."

"How…" Arthur stared at him. Morgana… wouldn't… surely she wouldn't… "How do you know that?"

"Because she told me last time we talked!" Merlin said impatiently. "I told you I was worried about her. You didn't listen." Arthur opened his mouth, blinked, and shook his head.

"That doesn't mean… no… this is ridiculous. She wouldn't—"

"How do you think Morgause got the material to run this DNA test?" Merlin asked, jabbing a finger accusingly at the paper Arthur was holding.

"She could've gotten a hair or something without Morgana knowing," Arthur argued helplessly. Merlin's eyes widened in evident exasperation.

"Do you think that Morgause running into you in Cardiff was an accident? Someone tipped her off that you were going to be on that train, and I don't think it was Gwen. Arthur, I know you don't want to believe this, but I heard it from Morgana's own mouth. She told me herself she wanted to be part of Morgause's movement, and Morgause has been waiting for this chance for years now—ever since she was driven out of the country with a warrant out for her. I don't know how far Morgana would be willing to go for this, but she has chosen her side. You can't trust her." Arthur turned the incriminating top-sheet of paper to look at the lines of neat print across it. Why… why would she have been there in the hospital, then? He couldn't make himself believe that her concern had been false. Hers was the only voice he remembered from the worst day of pain; her voice, and her slender fingers laced between his as she squeezed his hand encouragingly, urging him to hold on. Morgana had always been so staunch an advocate for what was right… why would she betray her own friends—her own family?

"I'm not sure if my input is particularly helpful here," Gwaine started.

"It's not," Arthur said through his teeth.

"But," Gwaine continued, entirely unperturbed, "Based on my approximately fifteen minutes of acquaintance with your… sister, I'm rather inclined to agree with Merlin here. She was glaring daggers at Merlin when he insisted on going with you instead of her. If that doesn't tell you something about her intentions, then Merlin's word ought to." Arthur exhaled and tried to steady himself, shaking his head half-angrily.

"She wouldn't… she wouldn't betray us,"

"She already has," Merlin returned. "If she trusts Morgause enough to tell her your location, she could have told her any other information that you passed on. She used you as a pawn, Arthur. What do you think she might do to your dad now she knows where he is?" Arthur let the silence linger heavily between them for a minute.

"He's used us both as pawns long enough," he said at last in a rough voice. "I don't want to be part of his war any longer."

"You don't want him dead either," Merlin asserted. Arthur didn't answer that. He stared down at the paper a moment longer. Morgana, his father… he didn't want either of them dead. He certainly didn't want to be caught in the middle of a war between them as he so often had… yet never before with the stakes so high.

"Morgause came here looking for me. If I stay here, perhaps you can get by to my dad with a warning without leading them straight to him."

"I'm not leaving you," Merlin responded without a moment's hesitation.

"Merlin—"

"We'll go together or not at all." Arthur glanced sideways at Gwaine and the American gave him a small, lopsided smile.

"All the interesting stuff happens when I leave, so I think I'll stick around this time."

"If we're being followed—"

"We're not," Merlin said with an air of utter finality. Arthur gave his companion a long, hard look.

"How can you possibly know that?" Before Merlin could answer, he clenched his teeth over a sigh. "Don't tell me. Another funny feeling?" The wide-eyed look he received in response told Arthur that this conversation was far from over. There had always been something about Merlin—something that he couldn't quite put a finger on. Now, he had an inkling that he was touching on it. Merlin could be observant, but how the man simply knew things—like Morgause's presence, or when something was off kilter or a threat, Arthur couldn't guess. But there was something Merlin wasn't telling him: something that gave his feelings an uncanny accuracy. "Come on," Arthur turned on his heel, towards the main road. Whatever else Merlin knew that he wasn't telling, it would have to wait. "We haven't got much time before the cabs stop running too."

"He's not responding." Morgana dropped her phone in her lap and smothered a twinge of nervous fear that swelled in her chest. The sun had set nearly an hour ago—and Morgause had returned long before then. Still, Merlin had neither picked up her calls nor answered her texts over the last several hours, and she couldn't bring herself to tell Morgause what he knew about her. Merlin was a wildcard, yes, but she didn't want to think what Morgause might do to keep him out of the way if she knew.

"We'll find him," Morgause assured her. "He can't have gone far. As soon as this is over you'll have a chance to speak with him." She was talking about Arthur. Morgana didn't correct her. She only nodded and stared down at her text message for a moment. She didn't like Merlin's silence. His expression the day before still hovered in her mind's eye to haunt her. There had been something sharp—accusing in his eyes, so unlike the way Merlin had looked at her in the past. She didn't need to wonder why he was keeping her away from Arthur. It stung that he didn't trust her. But the biggest problem was not Merlin's suspicion towards her. Rather it was that Arthur trusted him, and for the foreseeable future, that wasn't changing. If Merlin betrayed her and told Arthur the truth about her—about her magic and what she'd done… No. He wouldn't, she told herself, shuddering. She would simply have to watch and wait, and surely Merlin would come around too. After all, he'd been the first to extend mercy to the Druid boy. He understood like no one else she'd met in her time in Camelot. Better than anyone until she met Morgause.

Nonetheless, everything would have been so much easier if Merlin had been had stayed in Oxford and she'd gone with Arthur. Now, she couldn't help feeling that Merlin might put not only his own life but Arthur's also in danger if he made the wrong move. And whatever else she was ready to do, she had never meant to cause him harm. She gripped her phone tightly and stared out at the darkened street.

"Are you ready?" Morgause interrupted her thoughts. The street-lights had gone out a while ago for curfew, and Morgana could only just make out the older woman's features in the faint glow of the car's dashboard. She nodded brusquely before dropping her eyes again. Morgause rested a hand on her arm. "Don't worry about your friend. She doesn't understand. You can't protect her if she goes running to Uther as intended." Morgana nodded again. Protection… it was for protection. She never wanted to see Gwen or the others hurt after all. They didn't understand now, but they would. Gwen would forgive her.

"Arthur will speak to her," Morgana said quietly. "She'll come around." The other two she wasn't so sure of. Lance was grim faced and stubborn even if he cooperated for Gwen's safety's sake. The cop however… He was too quiet. She wouldn't have minded having him out of the way like Leon. Perhaps Arthur could talk to him too… They'll all understand… soon, she told herself. "Remember, we need to be quick. Once the guards are down, I can only hold the spell for a few minutes," Morgause reminded her. "You're sure you're ready for this?" Morgana nodded and Morgause squeezed her hand briefly. "Good. Go on," she prompted gently. Morgana nodded, heart beginning to pound too loudly inside her chest. She opened the car door and stepped out into the night.

Uther's small safe-house looked innocuous on a cursory glance, but almost the moment she set foot on the walk before it, Morgana was met by two silent, dark clad figures emerging from the shadows.

There were more inside. The small house felt like a prison as soon as she stepped through the door. She instantly disliked the dim lighting, the quiet, and the dank smell of a poorly kept home. The only thing she hated more than the stifling silence was the straight-backed young woman who had led her in from the door, footsteps measured as though she were still walking in time to a cadence, her hair bound up in a neat, tight bun and her head held up. Even without a uniform, she had pristine military bearing, as did the silent figures who had stopped her long before she reached the house. They reminded her of every Patronus whom she had seen in Camelot, patrolling the neighborhood: men she had learned to fear and avoid during her last years of Secondary school. It's only for a few minutes… just a few minutes and all this will be over, she told herself.

"Continue the aerial patrols. Have Oxford's air-space checked as well," Uther's voice caught her ear from down the hall, brisk and grim. "The creature will show his face again sooner or later. And have the reserves mobilized and sent to Camelot as soon as possible. Make sure Cenred's rabble doesn't do any more damage." He came into view in the doorway, a slim tablet in his hands, a slightly taller, gray haired man at his side, and another of the young civilian-clad soldiers on his left. The moment his eyes lit on Morgana a weight seemed to lift from his braced shoulders. "That will be all."

"Yes, sir." The man took Uther's device wordlessly from his hands and backed out of the doorway. Morgana's shoulders relaxed when the young soldier and Uther's companion both left the room.

"Morgana! Thank God. I was so worried. I've had people out searching for you." Morgana expected neither the open concern in his face nor the palpable relief so evident in his voice. She felt a heartbeat's twinge of guilt as she greeted Uther with a hug which he returned with surprising warmth. Morgana buried her face against his shoulder, and she tried to school into an appropriate expression once more. "How did you find me?" he spoke gently as he drew back, hands still resting on her shoulders. "Did Arthur not come with you?" Morgana froze.

"Arthur," she echoed. Distantly, she could hear a brief flurry of activity—footsteps and voices in the adjoining room. They would be down soon, she told herself. Morgause's spell would take effect shortly. But inside her chest, her heart had abruptly stopped its nervous fluttering. She felt cold. Arthur. How could she have thought that the relief was for her? She was the mistake: the unplanned, illicit child who never should have been; the daughter he was too ashamed to acknowledge. She blinked rapidly, and when she spoke again, her voice was a small, carefully managed tremor. "You… you mean he isn't here?" Every minute of training, every principle of leadership seemed to desert Uther for a heartbeat. He gripped Morgana's shoulders, and the color drained from his face. The chill sank deeper into Morgana's heart.

"What do you mean?" Morgana moved back from him a touch, trying to pull away from his grip and shaking her head. The best lie, Morgause had told her, holds a measure of truth within in it.

"Leon was injured. He… he had to stay in Oxford. He'd told us where to find you. We were taking different routes, and… He was supposed to come first. I thought—"

"Morgana," Uther interrupted. Morgana blinked again several times, letting the sting of salty tears prick at her wide, anxious eyes, and reached up to brush them with her sleeve. "Was Arthur alone?" Uther demanded. If only you knew what was going on in your precious son's head right now.

"Merlin was with him," Morgana offered shakily. Uther cursed, and he turned on his heel.

"Pellias!" he barked. There was no sound. The house was completely silent. Morgana's heart started to pound again. He strode to the doorway. "Pellias!" His voice rose. Morgana took a hesitant step after him and stopped when he froze feet from the hall. She knew what he would find, and yet her stomach still twisted uncomfortably. Uther backed into the room and seized Morgana by the arm, drawing her back from the doorway, but not before she'd seen the unconscious form of the guard who had left the room not even minutes since.

"Uther." Morgause stepped over the guard's prone figure into the room, head held high with that perfect grace that accompanied her innate confidence. "It's so good to see you again." Behind her came three others, all sorcerers Morgana had met earlier—Ruadan of the Druids, and Tauren and Alvarr, two of the many sorcerers who had spent their life hiding from Uther's sentence. Uther's fingers tightened around Morgana's arm.

"Morgause," Uther acknowledged her with a voice steady and cold. "Let Morgana go free and I'll come quietly."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of forcing Morgana to come along," Morgause's eyes gleamed, and her smile changed to one of cold disdain. She extended a hand. "Your daughter will be safe with me." She didn't need to offer a second invitation. Morgana pulled free of Uther's grasp, and with as even step as she could manage she strode across the room to stand at Morgause's side.

"Morgana?" Uther's voice was a mere, hoarse whisper. She turned to face him and found an ashen face staring back at her.

"Take him outside," Morgause ordered. Uther's gaze was locked on Morgana in blank shock. He didn't make a single attempt to resist. Morgana turned away from him. "Come." Morgause touched her shoulder gently. "The spell is wearing off." In the hallway, she heard footsteps and quickly turned her head before she heard the soft ping of a brass bullet, almost inaudible: a signal that the unconscious man would not be getting up again after they left. Beyond the guard, she could hear one or two of Morgause's small band of renegades moving through the house, disposing of other soldiers they found. She moved to follow Morgause, stilling her trembling hands by burying them in her pockets. It was no more than Uther had done to her kind before. At all events, it was better to be on this side than Uther's…. this was a war after all.

She took barely one step into the hallway when she was pulled backwards, and something cold pressed against her temple. She let out a stifled cry, and a strong arm wrapped itself around her chest.

"Hold still, Morgana." Her breath caught.

"Arthur?" she gasped.

"Let my father go and she lives." How… Morgana went very still. Behind her, Morgause had frozen as well, as had the two Druids. No… This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Arthur was supposed to take her side. He should have understood!

"Arthur—"

"I don't want to hear it," Arthur snarled.

"Playing the young soldier, are you, Arthur?" Morgause's lips quirked in a smile. The barrel of the pistol pressed harder against Morgana's head.

"Now," Arthur growled.

"You won't shoot her," Morgause replied. The pistol clicked softly, a sound close to Morgana's ear.

"Do you want to test that theory?" Morgause hesitated a second. Somewhere nearby, Morgana heard the sound of a scuffle, then gunshots. Either Morgause's forces had missed some Uther's soldiers, or somehow he'd had a warning system to call in backup. Either way, they didn't have time for this.

"Let him go," Morgause ordered at last. Arthur pulled Morgana backwards with him as Merlin and Gwaine interposed themselves between Uther and the two Druids who released his arms.

"Arthur, please—" Morgana protested weakly. His grip tightened and she fell quiet, shooting Morgause a panicked look as Arthur backed down the hall.

"Back door," Morgana heard Merlin hiss to his companion. Arthur made a grunt of acknowledgement, then Morgause was out of sight as Arthur dragged her through a doorway nearby, and there were several more gunshots, this time ringing out loudly in the air, no longer silenced, and shouting. Morgause's voice rose amidst the chaos, calling out orders. Then the gun-barrel was lifted from Morgana's head, and Arthur was pushing her in front of him, now pressing it between her shoulder-blades. To the left of the door as Arthur pushed her outside was the woman who escorted Morgana in. Morgana stumbled trying to step over her body. She lay on her side, her head resting on a smear of dark red that marred the floor. They reached the door, and Arthur ushered her roughly out, but they made it scarcely two meters out of the door.

"Get down!" Merlin's shout startled her. Morgana felt Arthur's hand fist in the back of her shirt and push her to the ground just before a new series of gunshots went off. Morgana let out a strangled cry as the pavement scraped her arms and face. Arthur's handgun went off deafeningly close to her ear. Flames roared into life in front of them; Morgause's work without a doubt.

"Go! Go!" Arthur shouted. Morgana opened one eye and saw Merlin staggering to his feet, hauling an unsteady Uther away from the fire.

"Arthur!" Someone shouted. Morgana struggled to get free of his grip as Arthur scrambled up again. "Arthur! This way!" Morgana she caught a glimpse of the man calling to him, tall, silver haired, and lit in the ghastly orange glow of the fire which reflected in his eyes: the same man whom she'd seen with Uther minutes ago inside the house. Arthur staggered towards him, hand still gripping her shirt tightly as he propelled her forward, and panic flared wild and bright inside Morgana's chest.

"Let me go! Let me go!" Her voice rose in a panicked scream. A second hand grasped her arm and pulled her forward, and Morgana felt the flash of power leave her before she even registered what she was doing. Arthur was flung to the pavement like a rag-doll, and he remained where he fell, limp and still. She tore her arm out of Gwaine's grasp and backed away, staring in horror. The shouts and gunfire around her faded into silence under the ringing in her ears. She saw Gwaine crouching over her brother, reaching for his shoulder. Merlin was nowhere to be seen, the fire dividing him and Arthur in a blazing line.

"Morgana!" Morgause's shout snapped her back to reality. Gwaine was hauling Arthur bodily off the ground over his shoulder, and the gray-haired man had come to his aid. Behind him, two or three men were emerging from the shadows, in uniform and equipped with weapons. It was too late. Then Morgause was at her side, her hand on Morgana's shoulder, and her voice chanting an ancient cadence, and the fire, the men with their weapons leveled on the two sorceresses, and Arthur spun away in a whirl of wind and darkness.

AN: So the chapter ended up belonging to the Pendragon children! There was a lot going on in this chapter, so I hope I made everything clear. What happened to Ygraine is supposed to stay a bit obscure, but I hope you understood the little tidbits from Arthur & Merlin's conversation. I also hope you enjoyed a little bit of insight to Morgana's thought process... And hopefully you caught what happened to Gwen, Lance, and Percival... that will be important.

For those of you who want a reveal... No, it hasn't happened yet, but Arthur's noticing a few things. Slowly but surely.

I hope the next chapter won't take too long to post, but I really have no buffer, so... some time in October. I'm really sorry for the uncertainty! I'll try to post it by October 25th. *sigh*

Reviews would be lovely!

THANK YOU ALL FOR READING!
~Sandyy