A/N: Sorry for the delay, dear readers. Finally another chapter :)

Chapter Seven: Black Magic

George bowed before he left Arthur's chambers. The king released a long breath of air as his manservant finally left. George was quite efficient, but unfortunately also incredibly boring. Arthur rubbed a finger over his vambrace, getting rid of non-existent dirt. Of course, it was polished to perfection. George wouldn't turn in anything else. Soft sigh on his lips, Arthur sat on his chair. He still had a moment before he needed to be in the throne room. Brennis and Edmund would today receive the knightly accolade. They had proven themselves as excellent squires and Arthur knew they deserved to join the ranks of the knights of Camelot.

Somehow, the event didn't manage to excite Arthur. He'd always loved welcoming a new brother-in-arms. Lately, though, he couldn't conjure any real enthusiasm. This ceremony as well just felt like another of his kingly chores. Arthur sighed again and reached for the small wooden figurine that perched on the table. His fingers ran over the smooth wood, trailing the curves and angles of the little dragon. Innocently, the carved dragon sat on his hand as Arthur gazed at it pensively. A little toy that had once belonged to a sorcerer. He wasn't even sure why he'd kept it. Arthur hadn't seen the little dragon's owner in almost three months.

Three months without hide nor hair of Merlin. Arthur should be relieved that the man had disappeared for good. After all, sorcerers had the habit to turn up at the most inopportune moments to attack and cause havoc. Arthur gazed at the carved dragon and didn't really want to acknowledge the empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. Maybe the unpleasant feeling continued to haunt him because this episode of his life just lacked a satisfying conclusion. After all, the sorcerer had cowardly fled and had thus bereft Arthur of the opportunity to bring him to justice. Often, Arthur wished he could just mount a horse and hunt after Merlin. Maybe taking revenge would finally free him of this ghost and revive Arthur's enthusiasm for the things he had loved once. Gingerly, the king placed the wooden dragon back on its place on the table. Duty called. Before he left his chambers, Arthur grabbed the belt with his sword and tied it around his waist.

The throne room was filled with knights and nobles with servants bustling about. They all bowed in respect as the king entered. By the throne, Guinevere was already waiting for him and threw a wide smile at Arthur. It made his heart lift a bit, even though he couldn't really return the smile. Arthur gripped the hilt of his sword and strode through the hall, all eyes following him. Guinevere's pretty brown eyes were on him as well and Arthur could see the worry glinting in them. A sting of guilt hit him. He didn't want to make his wife worry all the time. Like always, he pushed the guilt away.

Brennis and Edmund already stood in front of the throne endowed in new and shiny armour. Arthur thought back to the day he himself had received the knighthood. Back then, he had wished for nothing else. Now, he barely remembered what had driven him. Arthur stepped beside his queen. Guinevere, concern still swimming in her eyes, leaned closer to him and brushed her hand over his arm in greeting.

"Arthur," she whispered to him. "I started to worry that you'd overslept."

A teasing grin curled the corners of her lips and Arthur threw her a smirk. Quietly, he quipped, "I'm the king, you know. It's impossible for me to be late."

The haughty tone of his voice made his wife chuckle and it warmed Arthur's heart. At least he could still do that right. Her eyes flashed to him mischievously. Then she turned away from him again. Arthur straightened up and let his gaze wander over the hall.

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Worry was bubbling up in her as Guinevere watched her husband. He was good at hiding it and she doubted anyone else had noticed, but she knew and it broke her heart. It was as if something had wilted away inside of Arthur. With all her might, Guinevere tried to bring back his smile and his excitement. These days, though, Arthur could find no joy in anything.

Her gaze wandered over him as Arthur turned to the soon-to-be knights. He looked regal and every bit of the impressive king that he was in his armour and golden crown. Arthur shone and exuded confidence that made his subjects place their trust in him. Guinevere smiled, but couldn't help that sad twinge running through her. Something had broken in Arthur and despite her efforts to fix it, she couldn't help him. Her handsome king shone a bit less bright these days. Guinevere wanted to hate Merlin for doing this to Arthur, but she couldn't. Every time she thought of the gangly raven-haired man, tears prickled in her eyes. Deep down, she was glad that Merlin had managed to escape Camelot. For his and for Arthur's sake. Despite all that had happened, she wished with all her heart that Merlin was alive and healthy. Maybe even happy…

Arthur motioned for Brennis to step forward. The man almost fell over his own feet as he hastily obeyed. Guinevere grinned at the young man. Eyes wide, Brennis knelt down in front of Arthur and the king unsheathed his sword. The blade glinted in the sunlight that fell through the wide windows as Arthur carefully dubbed the flat side of the sword's tip on Brennis' right shoulder. He elegantly moved the sword to the left shoulder. For the whole throne room to hear, Arthur then declared,

"Arise, Sir Brennis, Knight of Camelot."

Brennis, trying to look as stoic as possible, stood up and bowed to Arthur and then to Guinevere. She sent him a wide smile. Cheers erupted from their audience. The loudest, of course, came from the other knights. Guinevere almost laughed as she saw the wide grin on her brother's face. Elyan clapped and cheered loudly. Of course, Percival wasn't far, beaming widely. The Queen furrowed her brow, though, as she couldn't spot Sir Leon anywhere. That was strange. Usually the first knight would never miss a knighting ceremony. She made a mental note to seek the man out later and ask him if anything was amiss.

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Brennis' eyes glinted with pride. He visibly struggled to keep the serious expression on his face and not beam like an idiot as he again bowed to the king. Arthur felt strangely envious as he looked at the new knight. He wished he could be like that again, but all that was left for him to do was give the man a curt nod. With that, Brennis stepped over to his new brothers and the other knights embraced him heartily, big smiles on their faces. Now, Brennis couldn't hold back anymore either. A wide beam split his face as Percival pulled him into an embrace.

The king motioned for Edmund to step forward. After all, there would be two new knights today. Just as Edmund moved closer, the huge double doors of the great hall abruptly burst open. With a loud bang they were thrown into the walls. The occupants of the hall startled and turned around. Arthur's own gaze shot to the entrance. His heart skipped a shocked beat as he watched armed soldiers streaming into the hall. Weapons drawn, the men stormed inside, ready for battle. They wore thick leather armour, helmets, and fur-hemmed cloaks. Saxons, Arthur realized only a second later. People screamed in fear as the soldiers started their attack. The king quickly pushed Guinevere behind the throne.

"Hide," he told her.

Then he turned to his knights, sword in hand, and ordered, "Men, to me."

As one, his knights obeyed, grim looks on their faces. Arthur didn't hesitate a second and threw himself into the fight. His knights followed. Arthur raised his sword and swiped it at his first opponent. The man dodged and swung his mace at Arthur's head. Arthur crouched down on one knee and without hesitation stabbed his sword into the man's exposed side. He could feel the blade cutting through the leather and sliding into the body underneath. Blood spurted and the man cried out in pain. Arthur sharply pulled his sword free and the Saxon sagged to the floor, a pool of blood building around the body. Heart racing in his chest, Arthur already moved on to the next enemy. Helmet obscuring his face, this man wielded a sword. He swung it at Arthur and the king swiftly raised his own. Metal clashed with metal. The Saxon pressed on with a barrage of swipes and jabs. Arthur blocked them all, sweat already running down his back. Through the corners of his eyes, he saw Percival lay into a Saxon with his poleaxe. By now the whole hall had descended into chaos and battle.

Finally, Arthur saw an opening. Fending off another stroke of the sword, Arthur sharply kicked the Saxon in the knee. A painful grunt came from the man. Arthur used the short distraction and brought his sword down. It sliced into the side of the Saxon's neck, cutting deep, and blood sprayed from the horrid wound. Drops hit Arthur's face, but he paid them no mind. All senses on high alert, he moved on from the fallen foe. The next man attacked, wooden club raised over his head. Arthur swivelled on the spot, gaining momentum, and slashed his sword through the air. Easily, it cut the man's side open. As the man fell, Arthur glimpsed his face and, cold as ice, shock cut into him. Arthur knew the man. Not by name, but he was one of the stable lads working with the royal horses.

What?!

Arthur couldn't really think further on this. The next man attacked. The king brought his sword up as a spear was stabbed at him. He parried and the spear's sharp end scraped along Arthur's sword, thus diverting the attack away from the king's chest. This time it was undeniable. Arthur's attacker wore the livery of a Camelot guard. He again stabbed the spear at Arthur. Despite the shock and confusion rushing through him, the king had no choice. He dodged to the side and rammed his sword into the man's abdomen. The guard was dead before he hit the floor.

What is going on?!

Panic boiling up in him, Arthur looked around. His knights were still engaged in battle while some were busy helping the women out the hall. Most of their attackers were Saxons, but here and there Arthur could clearly spot Camelot guards and even servants fighting alongside the Saxons. In fact, more and more people flooded the hall. Some of them were Saxons, but, to Arthur's horror, most were residents of Camelot. He even spied a scullery maid, sharp kitchen knife in hand, attacking one of the knights. Another of his own guards attacked Arthur. Once again, he was forced to dodge a sharp spear.

"Arthur!"

The king's sword danced through the air and left a deep cut in the guard's left arm. He dropped his spear and Arthur sunk his sword into the man's chest. As the man fell to the floor, Arthur turned his head. Elyan stepped to him. They stood back-to-back and the knight said breathlessly,

"What the fuck is going on? They're our people!"

"I don't know," Arthur pressed out while slashing his sword at a Saxon this time. "We need to drive them back."

A mirthless laugh fell from Elyan's lips. "Damn! Easier said than done."

Arthur gritted his teeth. The knight was right. Ever more people streamed into the great hall and instantly attacked Arthur's knights. A snarl on his face, Arthur placed a cut into the Saxon's sword hand, taking two fingers off. The man groaned in pain, but miraculously kept his sword in his bleeding hand. Arthur drove on, placing hard blows to the man. The Saxon could parry one, two blows, but with the next, his sword slipped from his bloody fingers. The next and final blow struck him in the left arm. Arthur's attack was so hard that his blade cut right through the arm and deep into the man's side, killing him.

Arthur pulled his sword free, breathing laboured now. By now his undershirt stuck to his back with sweat. His eyes once again shot over the hall. He cursed under his breath. The situation had gone from bad to worse. His knights had been pushed back while more and more enemies entered. With a few barked out orders, Arthur drew his knights to him. They were now close to the dais with the two thrones. Arthur's panic spiked as he saw Guinevere crouching behind one of the thrones. She hadn't made it out. He gritted his teeth in determination. He could not let them win.

"Percival!" he barked out to the knight closest. "We need to retreat. Clear the way to the side entrance."

He gestured to one of the doors, usually used by the servants. Percival gave a sharp nod and quickly gathered three more knights around him. Arthur, sword raised, turned to their attackers.

"Men," he growled at the other knights. "Stall them!"

Shoulder to shoulder, they now desperately tried to keep this overwhelming force at bay. Arthur's blade flashed through the air, hitting opponent after opponent. The wave of attackers never stopped, though, and he could already feel his muscles tire. Arthur was gasping for air, but never even thought of backing down. It was then that he saw the mass of enemies in front of him part. Through the chaos of the battle, Arthur saw a lone figure walk towards him and the knights. His blood froze over in horror as he recognized that figure.

Clothed all in black and a destructive smirk curling her lips, Morgana strode towards him as if she had no worries in the world. The witch laughed as she saw the shock on Arthur's face. She raised her hand and almost lazily whirled her fingers through the air.

"Framde onstyrenes," Morgana said in a commanding voice. "Ic ġebēode eow. Framde."

(Stop movement. I order you. Stop.)

Abruptly, the attacks stopped. As if frozen in place, the guards, servants, and nobles that had seconds before slashed into the knights just stopped. Arthur turned to his knights and ordered,

"Hold."

Swords still raised and ready, the knights stopped fighting. Morgana released a chilling laugh. In trepidation, Arthur saw how the Saxons had not been influenced by her spell. They now flanked the witch in a defensive ring. Artur swallowed dryly.

"What are you doing here, Morgana?" he hissed.

The sorceress threw him an amused and decidedly cold smirk. She arched an eyebrow and whispered in faux innocence, "Why, I just wanted to visit my dear brother. Is that so wrong?"

"You have no business here." Arthur's hand tightened on his sword. "Leave!"

Morgana laughed again. She had by now reached Arthur, although he noted how she kept out of the range of his sword. Her eyes glinted maliciously as they wandered over Arthur.

"Oh, brother," she drawled. "You haven't changed at all, have you? Still so stubborn. Still so stupid."

Sir Brennis took offence and snapped at the witch, "Watch how you speak. This is the king!"

The dangerous smile still hung from Morgana's full lips and Arthur stiffened as her attention now drifted to the new knight.

"Hm," she hummed, cold amusement on her face. "You're new. I like you."

Before Arthur could say anything, Morgana again waved her hand through the air. Strange words fell from her lips,

"ġegang hēr. Bêo mîn. Ġehīer. Bêo mîn."

(Come here. Be mine. Obey. Be mine.)

A strangled sound escaped Sir Brennis. Dread flaring up in Arthur, he watched as the knight started to tremble violently. He gasped as if in pain. Then a shadow flittered through his eyes. Brennis' body slackened and all expression fell from his face. The brown of his eyes was suddenly washed out and clouded by a misty white. Morgana smiled sharply and with her index finger motioned for Brennis. Arthur watched as without hesitation Sir Brennis abandoned their ranks and stepped over to Morgana. The witch smiled up at the man. She ran her fingers through Brennis' short hair while she threw a provocative wink at Arthur.

"What did you do?" the king demanded to know.

Morgana raised her eyebrows, sick amusement all over her face. "I'm only just beginning."

Through the corners of his eyes Arthur saw his knights shuffle nervously. He couldn't blame them. It was Elyan, who yelled, fury twisting his voice,

"We'll take you down, Morgana!"

The witch threw the knight a derogatory look. "Don't worry. I'll get to you soon enough. And your lovely sister."

Ice cold fear crashed into Arthur. He couldn't help it and turned around to Guinevere. His wife was still half hidden behind the throne's high back. Her eyes were wide with panic as they clashed with Arthur's. He couldn't say anything out loud, but he hoped he could relay everything with his eyes. He would do everything in his power to protect her. No harm would come to Guinevere as long as he was alive. His wife trembled all over, but she gave him a small, shaky nod.

"How heart-warming," Morgana drawled. "I shall have need of my kerchief to dry my tears."

Arthur turned around to the witch, anger twisting his face. "You never learn, do you, Morgana? How many times have you tried to take Camelot? And how many times have you failed? You'll never succeed!"

His insult only managed to paint a sharp smile on the witch's face. Arthur grabbed his sword as she again raised her hand. Her voice echoed through the hall as she spoke,

"êower ferhþ. Mîn. êower ġeþōht. Mîn. êower banhus. Mîn. Ġehīer!"

(Your heart. Mine. Your thought. Mine. Your body. Mine. Obey!)

All the knights started to trembled violently. Some even lost the grip on their sword. Panic coiled around Arthur as he watched them, one after the other succumbing to Morgana's spell. Their eyes swirled with a stormy grey colour as they were forced to bend to the sorceress' will. Arthur whirled around. A shocked gasp left him as he saw Guinevere. Stock still, his wife stood by the throne. Her pretty face was expressionless and cold, no emotions there. She never turned to him and completely ignored him. Fear was consuming Arthur as he looked at her eyes. They were misted over by white.

"Seize him."

Arthur gasped as suddenly Elyan grabbed his arm. Sir Owain grabbed his other arm. Arthur cried out in pain as Elyan twisted his wrist and he lost grip on his sword. It clattered to the floor. Then the knights forced Arthur to kneel.

"I like seeing you this way," Morgana drawled, eyes wandering over Arthur.

Snarl on his face, Arthur glowered at her. The witch smirked and stepped closer to him. Anger coursing through him, Arthur tried to wrench free. Elyan and Owain only tightened their grip on him, fingers biting into Arthur even through his chain mail.

"Now," Morgana purred, satisfied glint in her eyes. "You had questions, right? You claim I'll never succeed in taking the crown for myself?"

Snarl twisting his face, Arthur growled, "You won't. You will always fail."

"I did in the past," Morgana admitted loftily. "But this time is different, isn't it?"

"How?" Arthur seethed.

"This time you're all alone," Morgana said, her voice sweet poison from her lips. "He has left you."

Again Arthur violently wrenched at the hands restricting him. To no avail. Fury burning in him, he sneered at Morgana, "You're delusional as ever."

The witch laughed at him. "You don't know, do you? Of course, you don't. You've always been embarrassingly thick."

"What are you talking about?!" Arthur fumed through his teeth.

Morgana reached for him and he couldn't help the flinch as she touched him. Gently, she pulled the crown from Arthur's head and handed it to Sir Brennis. Then Morgana's fingers ran through Arthur's hair in the cruel imitation of a loving gesture.

"He is gone, brother," Morgana told him as if the words held any meaning. "I admit, it took me some time to notice the absence of his magic. Now, though, it's quite obvious. He left Camelot. He abandoned you."

Arthur tried to twist away from her nauseating touch but couldn't. He felt disgustingly helpless. Caustically, he snarled at her,

"Whom are you talking about?"

Abruptly, Morgana's fingers clawed into his golden hair, long nails painfully scraping over his scalp. She harshly tugged at his hair, forcing Arthur's head back. Her eyes cut into his, triumph dancing in them. Morgana's mouth curled slightly and she hissed,

"You are nothing, Arthur, nothing, without Emrys."

A crazed laugh fell from her and she let go of Arthur. Disparaging tint to her voice, she mocked,

"What did you do? Hm? That drove him away?"

Arthur kept the confusion from his face and continued to glare at her. He had no idea who this was. Emrys? He'd never heard of the man. What did he have to do with any of this? Morgana, mad smile splitting her face, twirled around herself and cackled. As she turned to Arthur again, she whispered,

"Emrys won't save you this time."

Arthur opened his mouth for a sharp reply. Morgana didn't give him the chance. She raised her hand and slapped him around the face. She must've pushed magic into the blow, because the force behind that slap sent Arthur crashing to the floor. His cheek smarted and burned as he shakily sat up. Morgana laughed at the shock on his face.

"It's almost a shame," she scorned. "that Agravaine misses this. He'd have enjoyed seeing you defeated."

"What?"

Ice cold dread washed over Arthur. Morgana cackled, vile amusement in her green eyes, and she scoffed, "Then again, his own fault for being too pathetic to do it himself."

"No." Arthur's thoughts swirled into a mess. "You're lying."

Cruel smirk distorting her lips, Morgana leered at Arthur. She loftily shrugged her shoulders and sneered, "What you believe doesn't matter in the slightest. Agravaine may have failed, but I won't."

Arthur stared at the witch. Dimly, he still felt his cheek sting. His heart raced in his chest and all thoughts had fled his mind.

"Don't worry," Morgana cooed at him, scorn dripping from her words. "I won't kill you."

She took a step away from him and then her eyes switched to his knights. Panic descended upon Arthur and his eyes widened.

"Cwellan þone cyning," Morgana whispered softly. "Slītaþ hine barl!"

(Kill the king. Cut him painfully!)

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