A/N Hello!

I have a confession to make. This chapter was actually supposed to be posted yesterday...
I forgot.
Anyway, I hope you can forgive me, but at least it's posted, right?
This also may be the last update for a while. I've currently been focussing all of my energies on my Merlin Bingo prompts, and this term has already planned to be a hectic one.
Stay tuned though, just because there aren't updates, doesn't mean I haven't forgotten about it! Writing hasn't stopped, it's just been put on the backburner for the moment so I can focus on my life for the moment.
I think I've rambled on for enough, now, though.
Enjoy!

Morgana stood watching from the topmost tower, watching as the Saxons moved in and out of the derelict keep. Damn that witch! Damn her for being noble and just and saving Arthur Pendragon. Damn her for appearing when the knights of Camelot were all losing hope, and turning the tide of the battle.

She smiled to herself. At least Emrys had been taken care of, first his magic, and then his life, the insufferable thorn in her side finally gone after all of these years. Even if Arthur now had that witch on his side, she surely wouldn't be as powerful as Emrys had been. And without Emrys, then Camelot would fall. It wouldn't be long now. More and more Saxons were still arriving, her troops regaining their strength, whilst Arthur wallowed in his castle, his knights tired and drained from a battle which had almost cost Arthur the throne. This final battle would be the last. Morgana would make sure of that.

Loud thudding of steps sounded behind her, and she turned as the Saxon leader cleared his throat.

"A messenger, high priestess."

The snivelling man behind the large saxon flinched as he was bodily thrown forward, landing face first by Morgana's feet. She smiled sweetly at the Saxon, inclining her head in thanks as he turned and left her alone with the messenger.

The man had pulled himself into a crouch at her feet, head bowed before her, as all of her subjects should.

"Well?"

She sneered down at him as he grovelled, his thin body shaking like a leaf in the wind.

"King Arthur lives, m'lady."

Anger fueled her body, and she landed a solid kick to the messenger's ribs, before hauling him to his feet, holding him at eye level.

"I know that. Tell me something I don't know."

The man physically recoiled away from her, his eyes once again reverting to the ground.

"King Arthur has sent for a woman by the name of the Dolma. Rumour has it that the woman is a witch, m'lady."

Blood and magic thrummed through her veins. No. No.

In anger she lashed out, sending her magic streaming out of her into the sky, her rage boiling out into a shout of frustration. Damn this woman! Didn't this witch see? Didn't she see what Arthur and his father before him had done to people like them? Why was she helping him?

Taking deep breaths, Morgana closed her eyes, hands twitching at her sides. This would not do. This would not do at all. She would have to rid Camelot of the wench.

Morgana smirked. Without Emrys in her way it surely wouldn't take her long to dispose of this new witch, and then Arthur Pendragon. Yes, she could see it now, a plan. A plan to fell the Dolma and Arthur Pendragon and take Camelot's throne once and for all in one swoop.

"There was one other bit of information, m'lady."

She turned back to face the messenger, who was watching her with intrepidation, his face pale as he took a hesitant step back.

"Go on. I don't have all day."

"The King's servant, the one you call Emrys… he's still alive."

The world stopped. Morgana could hear nothing but the rush of blood, her magic slipping between the cracks, and one second the messenger was alive, the next he was lying on the stone rampants, face up, lifeless.

She stared blankly into the distance. She felt numb.

How? How had he survived?

Her hands clenched at her sides, rage thrashing through her body.

No, no, no, no, no…

How? Ho- the Dolma.

It had to have been. Ooooh, Emrys was tricky, she would grant him that, having another magic user there just in case, but that still didn't explain why Emrys hadn't been at the final battle himself.

Unless…

Morgana smirked. Her plans wouldn't be ruined. Not yet at least.

If Emrys hadn't been at the battle to protect Arthur, then that could only mean one thing.

Emrys still didn't have his magic. Oh, sure it would be tricky, even without magic Morgana knew that he would be a wily opponent. But she would emerge victorious, she was certain of it.

Something wriggled at the back of her brain, an important piece of information, something just out of her re-

Why wasn't Emrys the one conducting the talks on magic? Why was it the Dolma the one who-

Her brother still didn't know about Emrys' magic.

A plan began to form in Morgana's mind. Imagine. Oh, she could only imagine the shock on her brother's face when she told him, when she revealed to him that the one person who he trusted the most in the world, the one person who had stood by him time and time again had betrayed him in the highest form.

Then, and only then could she work on the next part of her plan, get rid of the Dolma, and make her brother watch as she tore his world down, brick by brick. Morgana would reign victorious over Camelot, as was her birthright, and finally, finally, the world would see that magic was superior, that Morgana was superior.

Turning her back to the wind-ridden turret, Morgana kicked the messenger off the tower. The Saxons would know what to do with his body.

She had a siege to plan.