This is my first story to reach 500 reviews AND get over 100,000 hits and I've been meaning to thank you guys for that, yet somehow I kept forgetting. So here it finally is: all of you are awesome, and thank you very much!

Now for the warnings: this chapter includes some discussion of religion, specifically the issues that can arise in a relationship between two people who adhere to different ones. I hope this won't offend anyone and I want to make it clear that I am NOT using this story to make any kind of case against interfaith marriages. Aside from that, there's also a bit of Morgana being mean to Arthur.

The next morning, Morgana was awakened by Freya. There was light coming through her window, but it was hazy and grayish; it must be just after dawn - earlier than Morgana usually liked to get up, especially after celebrating late into the previous night. "Why did you wake me?" she asked, frowning at the maid, "And what are you doing here so early?"

"I'm sorry, my lady, I didn't know what hours you prefer to keep. I would have left when I saw you were still asleep, but you were...twitching, and frowning as if you were in pain. Are you all right?"

"I am fine. I must have been dreaming - nothing for you to worry about. Please go and fetch breakfast."

Freya inclined her head respectfully and left. When the door clicked shut behind her, Morgana slid out of bed, entered the small maid's room where Gwen slept, and gently shook her friend. "Gwen, wake up."

There was an urgent, almost pleading note in her mistress's voice that woke Gwen instantly. "Morgana, what is it? Are you all right?"

Visibly upset, the lady shook her head. "I had a dream. Gwen, the sleeping draft Gaius gave me has run out. I must get more."

Gwen squeezed Morgana's hand. "Let's get you dressed and some food in you, and then we'll find the court physician. Do you want to talk about your dream?"

"I don't remember much, just feelings. I was afraid, and I could not breathe. I don't know what to make of it."

"Well, maybe this one doesn't mean anything."

Morgana nodded doubtfully, wishing she could share Gwen's optimism.

###

Freya brought breakfast, and Morgana dressed and ate, but just as she set her bowl aside a servant knocked on the door with a message that forced her to postpone her visit to the court physician. "King Balinor wishes to see you in his council chambers at your earliest convenience, my lady."

"Well, we mustn't keep the king waiting." Morgana dabbed at her mouth with her napkin and rose from her chair. "I shall go to him now."

"Excellent, my lady. If you'll follow me, please."

In the corridors Morgana crossed paths with Arthur, who had also been called to meet with the king. Noticing that the prince's eyes were bloodshot and he showed every sign of a sore head, she chirped, "Good morning, Arthur! Glorious day, isn't it?"

He winced. "Must you be so loud, Morgana?"

She blithely ignored his complaint. "Where is your horrid little pet troll?"

"Cedric? I had him put in the stocks - you won't believe what that idiot did! He let me fall asleep in the dining hall, and left me there all night! Do you have any idea how uncomfortable sleeping in a chair is?"

"No, I do not."

The council was in full swing when they arrived, with three of the thirteen members engaged in a heated debate while Balinor listened raptly. No one paid Arthur and Morgana any mind except Merlin, who got up and joined them where they stood just inside the door, wondering why they had been summoned and what they were supposed to do now they were there. "Those three are fighting over grain production and distribution," Merlin explained in a low voice. "Lord Thierry is asking that extra supplies be sent to his lands because their last harvest was poor, Lord Eligor's saying we should look for a spell to make the fields in Thierry's province more productive instead of dipping into stores that are meant to be a precaution against a blight or siege, and Fredrick-" he gestured to a red-faced man who was actually pounding the table with his fist "-is arguing that magically altering the soil's composition would violate nature and could have disastrous consequences."

"Well, that sounds fascinating," Arthur drawled.

"Father will give them another five minutes, then move along to the part we need you for."

"Which is what, exactly?" Morgana asked.

"Our wedding," Merlin mumbled. He was suddenly looking at Morgana's chin rather than into her eyes, and scuffing the toe of his boot against the highly polished floor.

"I see. Do you know when it will be?"

"That's what we're here to decide, among other things. Why don't you and Arthur sit down?" Merlin's eyes flashed and a pair of spare chairs flew over to the long, rectangular table. None of the men seated there batted an eyelash, or indicated that they had even noticed.

A few minutes later Balinor ended the debate with a promise to seriously consider Eligor's proposed solution, and asked Merlin and Fredrick to look into ways to make Thierry's fields more fertile without upsetting the balance of nature too much, if it could be done. "Now we'll turn our attention to the next item on our agenda: Merlin's wedding to the Lady Morgana. Prince Arthur, as her chaperone and representative of her guardian, King Uther of Camelot, do you have any conditions to set forth?"

"Only that my father wishes for the marriage to take place as soon as possible."

"Would twelve weeks from today suit him?"

"Three months?" Morgana blurted. "So soon?" She had heard that some engagements lasted half a year or longer.

"The king is confident that that will be plenty of time to make all the necessary preparations," one of the lords assured her.

"Unless the lady does not wish to be married," another added slyly. "In which case I'm sure we would all love to hear her reasons." The speaker had a sharp, hawkish nose and vibrant red hair - he could only be the Lady Sirenia's father, Lord Syrus of Stonecliff.

"I have none, my lord," Morgana replied politely but coolly. "I'll be agreeable to any date this council chooses."

"It's decided then," said Balinor with obvious satisfaction. "The date is set, and the best dressmaker in the kingdom has been commissioned to make your gown. She will, of course, consult with you on the design first."

Morgana, pleased to hear that she was to have some input on what she wore for her wedding, thanked the king enthusiastically.

"You," Balinor added to Merlin, "will be getting a new outfit as well."

Merlin, who had been leaning to one side with his chin propped on his left hand, staring blankly out of a window and idly drumming the fingers of his other hand on the arm of his chair, clearly lost in thought, jerked upright. "Huh? Why?"

"Because the occasion merits it," his father said patiently, if a bit gruffly, "and because you haven't gotten any new clothes in more than a year."

"I have all the clothes I need," Merlin grumbled. "I mostly wear the same thing all week anyway." Morgana was horrified.

"Now, on to the guests-"

"What about the question of who will officiate, sire?" Lord Syrus cut in. "You may recall that last night I suggested inviting the High Priestess to perform the ceremony, in consideration of her friendship with the prince."

Merlin brightened noticeably. "You're right, she'd probably take it as a personal insult if we didn't ask her, and I'd like for her to be there."

"Wait," Arthur said sharply. "Are you talking about a priestess of the Old Religion?"

"Not a priestess, my lord," Thierry said a little disparagingly, "the High Priestess. The most powerful practitioner in our order."

"But Morgana doesn't follow your religion, so she can't be married by one of its priestesses."

There was a moment's silence as the council considered this. "I don't suppose she could convert?" Lord Eckhart eventually asked.

"Absolutely not," Arthur snapped. "Out of the question."

Morgana was relieved. She wasn't especially devout, but converting to the Old Religion would still be very much against certain beliefs that had been deeply ingrained in her since childhood. If the lords of Dagon insisted that she adopt their creed, she didn't know what she would do.

Sensing Morgana's agitation, Merlin took her tightly clenched hand and rubbed it soothingly with his thumb, which calmed her a little. "She doesn't need to convert to the Old Religion; I'll just ask Nimueh to leave out the magical bonding bit of the ceremony." He would have done that anyway, because magical bonds were tricky things. Both partners' magical cores had to be as nearly equal as possible, otherwise the stronger magic would eventually overtake the weaker, with horrible results since a person's magic was so closely linked to their soul.

Bonding to a person with no magic at all was unthinkable, but Merlin couldn't stop himself thinking about it. His magic was strong enough to dominate everyone else he'd ever met; with nothing in her to counter it, it would consume Morgana, draining her of her free will and sense of self. In time there would be nothing left of her but an empty-eyed puppet incapable of such simple actions as rising from bed and eating unless her master commanded it.

Merlin shoved the horrifying image out of his mind and gently squeezed Morgana's hand. I could never do that to you. I could never do that to anyone.

The council accepted his solution and moved on to the guest list. It was extensive - the kingdom's most important allies had to be invited, and then there were Merlin's personal friends, most of whom lived in Dagon, though there was a Princess Elena from another land. They even decided to invite the Great Dragon, since the dragons were bound to be interested in the future dragonlord's mate. Morgana could hardly believe her ears. A dragon at my wedding! This is impossible!

Balinor had to ask if there was anyone she wished to invite twice before she heard him. "Oh... I have no family except the Pendragons, and Uther will receive an invitation anyway. Arthur's already here of course."

"Your choice of guests isn't limited to relatives. Any friends of yours are welcome too."

Morgana dropped her eyes to hers and Merlin's clasped hands as a faint flush heated her face. "If you'll allow it, sire, it would mean a lot to me if my maid Gwen and Gaius could be there. Both have been my companions through some trying times in my life and are closer to me than anyone except for Arthur and Uther."

"Of course," Balinor agreed easily. "Whatever you want."

"Thank you, my lord."

"Well, I think that's everything concerning the wedding. Next we need to discuss your education-"

"I have been educated," Morgana protested. "I can read and write, and I know a little of the history of Albion."

"Good. Not familiar with the laws and customs of Dagon, though, are you?"

"No, she isn't," Merlin said, shooting Morgana an apologetic glance. "Last night she told me that commoners were never knighted in Camelot and couldn't understand why it's any different here."

"Uther never deemed it necessary for me to make much of a study of law," Morgana defended herself. "Certainly not the laws of lands I would probably never see."

"Well, you'll have to learn it now," Lord Syrus informed her. "Traditionally the queen is the king's closest advisor and co-ruler."

The other lords nodded their agreement.

"Lord Syrus is right. Lady Morgana, I will arrange lessons with our court genealogist and historian. You will have to work hard so that you can assume your seat on this council when you're married."

Morgana nodded nervously. Thus far Balinor had been nothing but kind to her, and she didn't want to disappoint him. More than that, she desperately wanted to be a queen Merlin could be proud of.

Balinor gave her an approving smile. "Good girl. Now, unless there's anything else...?" Nobody spoke up. "The council is dismissed."

Merlin stood up, finally releasing Morgana's hand, and stretched. After working the stiffness out of his muscles he realized that she hadn't left but was still there, watching him. "Something you need, my lady?"

"There's nothing. I'm just curious as to what you do with yourself all day."

"I have a little time now, and then I'm meeting Fredrick in the library for some research."

"What are you researching? That problem with Lord Thierry's barren fields?"

Merlin shrugged. "That, and a few other things. Practical magic to serve the needs of the people. It can be a bit tedious, but it's necessary, and we usually make quick work of it. You could join us if you like."

Morgana politely declined. "I'm afraid I need to see your physician instead."

"Are you ill?"

"No." Merlin's brow was still knit in concern; Morgana's short, evasive answer hadn't satisfied him. She sighed. "I have trouble sleeping sometimes."

Merlin grinned, relieved that it was nothing serious. "Insomnia? Edwin can take care of that, no problem. I could take you to his workplace right now."

"I would be most grateful."

As they left the council chamber, Morgana paused just long enough to scowl at Arthur, who was skulking outside the door, obviously listening to everything they said to one another. "If I'd known he would be such a dedicated chaperone, I would have asked Uther for somebody else. I don't understand it - he's never been this protective before."

"He doesn't trust me, at least not where you're concerned."

"What!"

"I don't know exactly what he thinks I'm going to do to you-"

"Funny how he didn't seem worried about that last night, when he was drinking himself into a stupor!" Morgana said viciously, raising her voice so Arthur could hear.

He shot her a look that was somewhere between angry and wounded and slunk off, looking embarrassed.

"I know he's annoying," Merlin remarked, "and I don't appreciate him thinking I can't be trusted with you, but that was a little harsh."