Chapter Four

Knight Valiant
(Part One)

–

There is a thin line between love and hate.

–

Merlin would have liked to have said he was woken by the sweet words of the Lady Morgana, the subtle rays of sun warming his face, or even the swift knocks of Gaius. However, the shrill screams of Guinevere would have to suffice. When the pretty young maid pulled back her mistress's curtains to welcome in the morning sun, she instead welcomed the sight of Merlin, still sound asleep on Morgana's floor. He'd have to admit that it was the best night of sleep he'd had in ages, even though it was on the stone floor. Morgana's pillows and fur blanket were top of the line in comfort, there was no denying that.

As soon as Merlin rolled over onto his side, he made eye contact with Gwen who screamed bloody murder as soon as their eyes met. Merlin shouted as soon as she did causing a chain reaction. Morgana shot up from her slumber as Gwen turned to her with her mouth still ajar and releasing a high-pitched shriek. Morgana screamed in shock as well, figuring something terrible must have happened. She then ungracefully toppled out of her bed, bringing all of her bedding on top of her. She stumbled to her feet, looking like a ghost with a sheet over her head. Taking a step or two forward, she fell again before finally shaking her blankets free of her. She swatted the sheets away and glared over at Merlin and Gwen who were still yelling for what appeared to be for no particular reason now. Morgana's hair was askew, much of it in her eyes. Huffing a large strand from her eyes, she took charge of the situation.

"Alright, everyone shut up," she said fiercely.

Both of her companions slammed their mouths shut in an instant.

"Gwen, I was teaching Merlin how to manage a sword last night for his training session this morning," she explained to her still startled maid. "It was late and Arthur showed up, and Merlin fell asleep hiding behind the curtain."

"Oh," she replied simply. "That explains why Arthur has been looking all over for you this morning, Merlin, I think you're a bit late–"

Before she could finish, Merlin was running for the door, leaving it wide open behind him with the two women looking after him wearing indifferent expressions.

"He's very odd, you know?" said Gwen simply, still looking at the open doorway.

Morgana merely nodded and Gwen knew she had done so without even looking at her mistress.

–

Merlin held his jacket in his arms as he sprinted towards the practice pitch. Arthur was standing in full armor, looking annoyed. He didn't say a single word to his manservant as Merlin nearly slid into his armor that Mylor had most likely sat aside for him in his absence. He was hoping that he was throwing on the proper pieces after only speaking of dressing armor in casual conversation with Gwen on few occasions. He would have to remember to ask he how to properly put on armor when he had more time. His dulled sword and shield were firmly planted in the cool earth beside him. He yanked his ill-fitted helmet on his head as he ran Morgana's rules in his head. First position... alright, then next comes–

"Ah!" Merlin wailed, ducking Arthur's sword at the last moment. He hadn't expected Arthur to act so quickly.

"On your toes, Merlin," Arthur laughed hollowly. "My footwork won't improve if my sparing partner just stands there like a wooden spoke! Move as I tell you – body, shield, body, shield! Left, right, left, right!"

"Yes, sire," Merlin conceded, holding up his shield to block the opposing strike from Arthur who was still shouting directions. He tried to remember everything Morgana had told him, but his mind was so hazy from exhaustion and nerves that he could barely concentrate. Arthur thrashed away as Merlin struggled to block his sword. He figured Morgana would not be proud of him, seeing as Arthur had successfully found a way to turn his helmet completely around to the back of his head so all Merlin could see was darkness before falling to the ground. After about two hours (that seemed like an eternity), Merlin collapsed to the earth for one final time on his back. Arthur smiled in an amused sort of way and did something Merlin didn't expect, Arthur extended his hand. Merlin accepted the kind gesture and fumbled to his feet. His ears were ringing and he was moderately certain that at least 20 bones in his body were broken, but he'd survived.

"Usually, my early morning training sessions only last an hour, but my servants are also usually on time," he smirked.

"My apologies, sire," he nodded, catching his breath and realizing how out of shape he was. "It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't," he said firmly but no malevolence in his voice. "But I must hand it to you, Merlin, you're braver than you look. Most of my servants collapse after the first blow. Been bribing the knights to give you a few pointers, have you?"

"Er– something like that," he smiled innocently.

Merlin took the pair's excess practice weapons and piled them together as he took off his misplaced armor and haphazardly adjusted the prince's. Merlin pulled on his discarded jacket and leaned down to pick up the two shield and other items to lug inside the castle when Arthur noticed something peculiar on Merlin's sleeve as he stretched his back. Arthur froze, his eyes outlining the dark red stain on his servant's upper arm. It was a hand print, a bloody hand print. His arms fell loose, staring determinedly at Merlin's arm. It made sense. Merlin was missing his typical bandana around his neck, and Arthur now knew exactly where it was: tied around Morgana's palm. Without another word, Arthur stomped off towards the castle. Merlin was mid-sentence to the prince as he adjusted the leather strap around his shoulder. When Merlin looked up to meet Arthur's gaze all he saw was air. He jerked his head along the prince's path, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"Where are you going?" Merlin called after him. "The tournament starts in an hour!"

Arthur ignored his calls, he didn't know why he didn't just ask Merlin the questions he needed answered. Arthur figured if something was going on like he worried it was the he wanted to hear it from the mouth of one person in particular. Now storming inside the castle, Arthur was in search of one person and one person alone: the Lady Morgana.

–

"If that's all, milady, I think I may go and try to find Merlin before he has to dress Arthur in his armor for the tournament this afternoon," said Gwen as she collected Morgana's laundry.

"Of course, Gwen," Morgana smiled and nodded, distracted with her own thoughts.

Gwen grinned thankfully and departed out of sight. Morgana had been distracted all morning, staring absentmindedly out the window down onto the tournament pitch. Her thoughts were mixed of worry for Arthur's safety and fright for herself concerning her mysterious necklace. She sat on her open windowsill, counting how many contestants were slowly beginning to arrive. Her stomach churned, imagining all the terrible things that could happen in the heat of battle in front of hundreds of bloodthirsty onlookers. She didn't even realize she was twirling the yellow stone between her thumb and index fingers of her injured hand that still ached slightly in pain. When she caught a glance of Merlin, running into a bashful Guinevere, she inadvertently closed her hand around the odd stone.

She winced in pain, releasing the stone and cursing herself for her involuntary action. She groaned and hastily untied Merlin's bandana she had been meaning to replace since the night prior to see if she reopened the gash. However, when Morgana pulled back the final wrapping of the cloth she saw nothing. The cut seemed to have never existed, no scaring or sign of her injury remained. Frantically, turning her hand front to back, Morgana couldn't understand what had happened. One second it was there and the next... gone. It was then that she noticed it, the glow of the stone around her neck. The stone must have healed her wound. The bandana drifted from her palm out the window and onto the grass below after a gently flight in the wind. Morgana's expression was half frightened and half intrigued as she examined the jewel closer, narrowing her gaze. She released the stone down the front of her emerald green down at the shocking sound of an unannounced intruder in her chambers. She gasped and took to her feet to see it was only Arthur. He had been running apparently because he had almost slid completely by her bedroom if he hadn't gripped the corners of her door frame to catch himself.

"Have you lost your mind?" she gasped, sending him a confused glare.

"I could ask you the same question," he replied, out of breath.

"I haven't the time for silly games, Arthur," she sighed, utterly uninterested, "and neither do you. I thought your first match was in an hour–"

"Let me see your hand," he interrupted.

"What?" she snorted.

"You heard me, let me see your hand," he repeated.

Morgana rolled her eyes.

"Which one may I ask?" she said in an annoyed tone, testing him as she had so many times before. "Do you have a preference?"

"The injured one," he said fiercely.

"My hands are perfectly healthy," she said simply, "which is more than I can say for your state of your mind."

"Stop kidding around, Morgana, I–" he strode forward and took both of her hands in his, flipping them back and forth like Morgana had moments prior when she first discovered her ailment had healed. She wore a similar expression Arthur wore just then as well.

"Satisfied?" she huffed, jerking her hands free of his.

"But last night..." he drifted off in thought. "You were bleeding... the broken mirror... bandana... jacket stain."

"Arthur, are you perfectly alright?" asked Morgana thoughtfully, putting on her best show as she cupped his cheek in what had just been her wounded palm. Arthur leaned his cheek in ever so gently against Morgana's soft skin, closing his eyes momentarily to replay the last twenty four hours in his head. Morgana and Merlin had popped up in his bedroom in the middle of the night, Morgana's hand was injured, she was wearing Merlin's bandana around her palm, and that explained the bloody stain on Merlin's jacket and why he was missing his bandana. It all added up and made no sense at all at the same time.

"We spoke last night," he said slowly, reopening his eyes. "I asked you what happened to your palm and you told me you cut yourself on your broken mirror by accident."

"I don't recall that at all," she said, "and as you can see my hand mirror is perfectly intact. Are you sure you're feeling alright? You really do look tired, have you not been sleeping well?"

"I was sleeping like a baby before I was woken up by two intruders in my chambers," he said in a suddenly furious voice, regretfully pulling away from Morgana's touch. "Then I couldn't fall back asleep after the guards woke me and–"

"This is all very interesting, Arthur, really it is, but if you don't leave now then you'll be late for your first match," said Morgana. "Now, what kind of prince is tardy to a tournament his own father is hosting?"

"But–" he began helplessly.

"Shh," said Morgana placing her index finger a bit too roughly against Arthur's lips to quiet him. "Not another word about this nonsense. You'll need a clear head to succeed today."

Arthur conceded and nodded slowly. Morgana may not be able to beat him religiously at swordplay any longer, but she would always remain undefeated in a battle of wits against the prince. She smiled warmly and stood on her tip toes to lightly kiss his cheek.

"Good luck, Arthur," she whispered in his ear.

Arthur tilted his face slightly towards Morgana to smell her scent, remember the texture of her hair, the softness of her skin against his. She did the same. Arthur tenderly held Morgana's cheek against his for entirely too long before holding her face before his. He sent her a reassuring smile, knowing she was worried about him like she was during every tournament he competed in. She bit her lower lip and forced a weak smile before Arthur turned, leaving her alone to drown in her thoughts with an odd feeling of dissatisfaction that she was unaccustomed too.

She released a heavy sigh as soon as she knew for certain Arthur was gone. She felt guilty, lying to Arthur. She never lied to him, ever. The two of them had always shared everything, no matter what. However, for some reason Morgana didn't feel safe speaking to Arthur about the potential of magic latching itself around her very neck. He was still a Pendragon after all, and he would always be loyal to his father, and Uther would always be loyal to his war on magic. And it frightened Morgana that she, herself, could be fighting on the wrong side of that war, whatever side that was.

–

Merlin fumbled to tighten the metal armor on Arthur's wrist as the pair stood amongst the nearby tents of competitors. He was suddenly in a more annoyed mood than usual. Merlin didn't know for sure where Arthur went, but he knew when he came back from where ever he was put him on edge. He kept staring straight ahead, deep in thought. Merlin told himself that Arthur must be trying to concentrate on his task ahead, but something told him it wasn't just that.

"You do know the competition is today," said Arthur with an upward inflection.

"Yes, sire," said Merlin, forcing a grin. "You nervous?"

"No, of course not," he replied as if Merlin had asked him the stupidest question on the planet. "I don't get nervous."

"Really?" asked Merlin kindly. "I thought everyone gets nervous."

"Will you shut up?"

Merlin smiled weakly and nodded his apology. He didn't make another sound as he finished his dressing of Arthur in his remaining armor. Even someone as emotionally dimwitted as Arthur Pendragon could tell he'd hurt Merlin's... dare he say it... feelings. Arthur took a deep breath and rolled his eyes at himself for what he was about to do.

"Sorry," he muttered reluctantly so quietly that Merlin barely heard him. "I have a lot on my mind, and I didn't mean to take it out on you."

"'S alright," said Merlin, suddenly in much better spirits.

Merlin tied Arthur's cape around his neck and placed his helmet in the prince's hand. Stepping back, Merlin had to hand it to himself, Arthur looked as well put together as any other competitor. He smiled like a proud parent and nodded at his finished project. Arthur's short temper returned as he huffed his displeasure at his newest servant. Arthur waited a moment as if to give Merlin a chance to remember what he'd forgotten. Unfortunately, Merlin had no idea what was missing.

"Great, you're all set," said Merlin, still smiling as if everything was right a rain.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" asked Arthur, widening his eyes to urge him to recall the forgotten item. When Merlin stared blankly back at him he decided to just rudely inform his servant instead. "My sword..."

"Oh, yeah," said the warlock, smiling naively. He darted to the sword rack and snatched up the prince's chosen sword. "Here you are."

Arthur yanked the weapon from his hands and stomped off toward the pitch leaving Merlin feeling relieved that he'd survived the experience.

"That went well," Merlin said to himself, heaving a heavy breath.

–

Morgana rounded the corner to enter the stadium with Guinevere by her side. They were both speaking rather fast about the gossip either of them had heard about the visiting warriors. Morgana had earned a deep blush from Gwen after just telling her a particularly crude rumor about Sir Devlin and his rumored overnight wedding and divorce from Princess Mary of Glen.

"– and Lady Fiona told me that King Grigor was so upset that he locked his own daughter in the stocks for a week after he banished Sir Devlin to Shallot," said Morgana as Gwen gasped. "Isn't it all just deliciously scandalous?"

"Well, I heard that Sir Devlin was only knighted because Queen Eleanor begged her husband to make him a titled member of the court to avoid further shame," said Gwen quietly, looking over her shoulders so no one would here. "They couldn't bare to have her daughter a wife of a servant."

"I think that is–" started Morgana.

Morgana's sentiment came to a halt for Merlin had rounded the corner of the entrance to the pitch and nearly plowed right into them. All three sets of eyes widened and froze before one another. Morgana and Gwen grabbed their chests and laughed lightly as Merlin rubbed the back of his neck shyly.

"Merlin, it seems I'm always running into you," said Morgana humorously, her chest feeling warm against the heat being exhumed from the stone dangling hidden between her breasts.

"Sorry," he smirked, feeling his heart beat a bit faster for some reason.

"Going to watch Arthur's match, are you?" asked Morgana, noticing Gwen was still a bit too flustered to speak.

"Yeah," he nodded. "I wager you both are–"

"How did things go with Arthur?" asked Gwen as if she'd been trying to spit out her question all along.

"Not terribly bad," said Merlin. "Thanks again, Gwen."

"And this morning?" asked Morgana, catching Gwen's blush from the corner of her eye.

"I survived," he smiled fleetingly. "I cannot thank you enough, milady. How is your h–"

He looked down at the virtual princess's hand to ask about her injury, but he couldn't manage to find his words. Morgana's hands were completely flawless. He knew for a fact that she had a sizable gash on her palm the night before. He'd even tended to her wound with his own bandana. Morgana noticed that Merlin was looking at her palm, and she quickly latched her hands behind her back and smiled innocently, pretending she didn't hear Merlin's prior partial inquiry.

"Morgana," said a surly voice from behind the raven-haired beauty. It was King Uther Pendragon. Gwen and Merlin instantly lowered their heads. "I wondered where you'd gone off to. Shall I escort you to your seat?"

"Thank you, my Lord," said Morgana kindly, curtsying to the King and accepting his arm and striding towards their thrones before the pitch. Gwen followed in toe, smiling back at Merlin for only a second as he continued to sport his confused and blank expression. After the girls took their designated seats, Uther took to his place upon the pitch to deliver his introductory speech they'd all heard countless times before. Merlin opted to lean against the wall leading into the stadium, looking absentmindedly over at Morgana before he heard Uther's voice yet again.

"Knights of the realm," Uther began, striding before the two dozen competitors. "It is a great honor to welcome you to this tournament in Camelot. Over the next three days you will have your bravery put to the test as well as your skills as warriors, and of course challenge the reigning champion, my son, Prince Arthur."

Morgana noticed Arthur and Knight Valiant exchange what could only be described as threatening glances. She peered over at Gwen, who had noticed the wicked glares as well, and both of the women shared worried expressions.

"Only one will have the honor of being crowned Champion, and he will receive a prize of one thousand gold pieces," Uther went on as the treasure chest of gold was displayed to the onlookers. "It is in combat that we learn a knight's true nature, whether he is indeed a warrior or a coward. Let the tournament begin!"

Arthur nodded a split second before the other knights as his father concluded his oration. He had lied to Merlin, he was nervous, but only a bit mind you. Don't go getting any crazy ideas in your heads, Arthur Pendragon was no coward. Morgana watched as Uther whispered something in Arthur's ear that she deducted was something to increase the load of pressure that was already on his shoulders. She rolled her eyes as Uther took his seat beside her and looked on with a lust for blood as his son faced off against Sir Ewan that was mildly disturbing. Morgana cheered beside Gwen for the match to begin though her stomach turned with great ferocity beneath her bosom. Merlin caught Morgana's eye for just a moment before Arthur squared off against his opponent. Her face appeared docile and regal though just before she turned back to the match, Merlin noticed the slightest hint of fear behind her pale green eyes. He stared on at the prince as the match began.

Merlin had never seen a real sword fight before, though he supposed he took part in one in a manner of speaking. They were much more impressive than he expected as was Arthur's grace and competence with a sword. There was no question that Prince Arthur of Camelot was a master of swordplay. The art of swordsmanship had been bashed in his brain so determinedly over the years that he could almost predict his opponents every move and set up a defense accordingly. Merlin found himself shouting and cheering along with the rest of the crowd as Arthur battled Sir Ewan until he came out the victor as Sir Ewan fell harshly onto the softened earth. Unlike many competitors, Arthur had a sense of class and respect. He extended his arm and helped Sir Ewan to his feet, bowing honorably to the fallen warrior. He then raised his arm in glory and nodded to his father who couldn't have looked more proud.

The tournament continued with a number of other first round matches between the other knights. Each competitor was allowed two matches the first day to weed out the weakest fighters. Arthur won his second match against Sir Devlin as well which left him only the job of looking on and judging his competition. His only real threat, he declared, was Knight Valiant. He was the largest of the men competing and his strength was unimaginable. He attained a hardened expression and a rigid jaw that did a decent job of intimidating most who saw him. Arthur began to worry, yet again only slightly, that Valiant could possibly beat him. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't even notice that the man he had been sizing up all day was walking right at himself and Merlin, who was helping him take off his armor. Arthur looked up at the burly man and waited for him to speak. Knight Valiant looked at Arthur with some tawdry expression that struggled to turn into reverence long enough to complete a verbal thought.

"May I offer my congratulations on your victories today," said Valiant with venom dripping from every syllable.

"Likewise," said Arthur as if it pained him to do so.

"See you at the reception this evening," he said, nodding.

Arthur merely stared on with Merlin, watching Valiant and his servant stomp off to their tent. Arthur's eyes noticeably narrowed enough that Merlin felt almost obligated to comment.

"Creep," Merlin scoffed after the large knight.

Arthur snorted a genuine laugh that he may have shared with someone like Sir Leon, but he instantly realized he had nearly shared a laugh with a servant and swallowed his smile as quickly as he had sported it.

"Right," Arthur began, pretending he and Merlin hadn't just laughed together. "For tomorrow, I need you to prepare my shield, wash my tunic, clean my boots, sharpen my sword, and polish my chainmail."

He then walked off, still have wearing his armor but too lost in thought to care, leaving Merlin to look on after him with an exasperated expression.

–

Morgana was dreading the reception Uther had forced her to attend. She hated being ogled at like a common piece of meat as each knight walked through the line of court members. She always had to stand beside Uther like a proper princess and smile and nod and smile and nod and smile and nod. It was rather exhausting really. All she could think about was the stone around her neck. It was a temperamental item, there was no denying that. She only wished she could find out what exactly it was and how to rid herself of it before anyone became suspicious of her new jewelery item. She sat on her velvet upholstered stool and twirled the mysterious mineral between her thumb and index finger as she typically did when she was alone.

She sighed heavily with despair, leaving a foggy breath stain upon her armoire mirror. When she lifted her hand to wipe away the smudge she froze at what she saw. The word "as" was written in calligraphy, clear as day. She gently touched the letter "a" but instantly pulled her hand back as the word faded immediately after her skin touched it. Looking back over her shoulder for any intruders, she gathered all her courage and blew hot breath on the same spot she had before. And as she had hoped, the word appeared again. She was then desperately trying to steam the entire mirror, climbing on her knees atop the armoire counter to reach the top. After she had successfully used every last breath in her, she placed her feet back on the stone floor, gasping for air, and stared up at what had turned out to be a sort of half-sonnet, half-message.

Although you fear all hope is bleak,
search out the answers that you seek.

For the power belongs to you alone,
as you possess the Everstone.

Everstone? Was that what the enigmatic jewel was. She had her first answer, and all she needed now was to find out exactly what an Everstone was, and how the bloody hell a message came to be written on her mirror and who had written it for that matter. Touching the mirror to erase the message again, she blew hit air on the now flawless mirror and wrote the words "Thank You" with her index finger to whomever had helped her. Stuffing the stone between her cleavage once again, Morgana darted off to the castle's archives in search of her answers and was apparently too flustered to notice the words "You are welcome, sister" appear for only a brief instant before disappearing as quickly as Morgana.

When she reached her destination she found the caretaker of the archive, the moody and rather dull, Geoffrey of Monmouth doing what he did best at his desk: sleeping. Morgana rolled her eyes and tiptoed by the snoozing old man, actually realizing she was thankful he was not awake to question her motives. She and Arthur had caused many a hijinks in the archives as children and because of that she had actually unintentionally grown to remember how many of the books were ordered. Pulling out an armful of heavy texts that she knew to contain pages to help readers identify rocks and such, Morgana held them close against he chest and darted by Geoffrey again to return to her bedroom.

Careful to avoid any curious guards, Morgana hid in the shadows of the darkening castle until she successfully reached her chambers and slammed the door behind her. Pouring the books atop her bed, she instantly realized it was a bad idea to toss dusty books on top of her freshly cleaned comforter. She flipped through dozens of pages of stones, none of which bore any resemblance or name as the jewel around her neck. Her sixth and final book appeared older than the rest. The binding was worn and falling apart and the ink was barely readable and faded from age. Carefully, Morgana flipped through the hundreds of pages before finally coming across precisely what she had been searching for. The title read "Everstone" and bore a drawing of a much larger version of her own stone necklace.

Morgana pressed her middle and index fingers upon the page, careful to read every word of the description:

Arguably one of the most powerful of magical elements in ancient history, the Everstone places great responsibility upon its owner. Many years ago, five of the greatest sorcerers the world has ever known, wielded the Everstone as a mighty safeguard to ward off those who threatened the lives of magical beings. However, one creator grew corrupt with power and desired to use the stone as a weapon to seek vengeance on all those who contest the art of sorcery, which in turn forced the others to hatch a plan to ensure the safety of all mankind. The four virtuous architects of the Everstone secretly broke the stone into four pieces to be worn around their necks, so that no one person would hold more power than another. They banished the greedy sorceress from their midst and damned her to walk the earth, a shell of what she once was for the rest of her immortal days.

The Everstone may only be possessed by a magical being for its abilities are deemed useless to those of mortal blood for to one without magic the element would be nothing more than a necklace with a golden rock, easily removed from one's throat without effort. Once one of the four portions of the Everstone choose a new possessor it will remain impenetrable as long as the barer still has breath in their body.

Though many of the Everstone's powers remain a mystery, it has been rumored that each piece grants the possessor the ability to heal mortal wounds and illness (though pay a price in return), detect others sorcerers in their midst, inhibit transportation, impose virtual immortality, allow desired transformation, mind control, and countless other capabilities that are still unknown to those who do not wield a piece of the rare element. It is of the utmost importance that all four stones remain divided, for if the pieces of the Everstone were to be united once again, unimaginable doom, death and destruction would undoubtedly follow.

"Morgana?" said a feminine voice from the King's ward's now open doorway. Morgana nearly jumped off her own bed with surprise, slamming her book closed in response and turned to send Gwen the most unbelievable smile she had ever mustered. She looked almost contorted in fear. "Is everything alright?"

"Y– Yes, of course," Morgana nodded in what Gwen could only refer to as an inhuman manner. "I was just doing... er– a bit of light reading."

"I'd hate to see what your heavy reading is like," said Gwen humorously, trying to break the tension. "Uther sent me to ensure you weren't tardy for the knights' reception. It begins in a few minutes. Are you ready?"

"I just need a moment to collect myself," she said quietly, trying desperately to calm her racing heart. Gwen nodded her understanding and closed the door behind her to wait outside a Morgana gathered her senses.

Morgana had never been more confused or more fearful in the entire twenty years of her short existence. She hastily opened the book once again and reread the description over and over. If she understood correctly, she was in possession of one of the most powerful elements on earth, but what was more terrifying than that fact was if the book's words were true then that meant only one thing. She, the Lady Morgana of Cornwall, was a sorceress.

–

A/N: I'm an awful person. I took forever to update, and I am so sorry! I want to thank everyone who stuck with me and kept pestering me to update. It helped more than you know, and I am more determined now after Series 3 has concluded to rewrite Morgana's character and give her the depth and understanding she deserved. There wasn't a whole lot of Merlin in this chapter and even less Merlin/Morgana because my next chapter is going to be absolutely wrapped in M/M scenes. I want this fic to be a different take on the Series but remain as canon as possible relationship wise, so please don't complain that Arthur and Morgana still have their little fling or that Merlin and Morgana aren't having wild unadulterated shag sessions in the first 4 chapters. Things will progress as I continue. I need to set the side story for Morgana so I can end up where I want to end up with her and Merlin, so please bare with me.

Next Chapter: Morgana struggles with denial, Merlin seeks out Morgana's help to save Arthur, and Merlin and Morgana both begin to realize they may not be all alone after all.

–

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