Purpurea: As you're about to see in this chapter, Morgana has learned to take her nightmares seriously.

Squeegybug: Yeah, Morgana will be very horrified when she discovers her magic. I'm almost tempted to keep Sirenia around until the big reveal of Morgana's magic just so I can write her reaction. Arthur won't be the only non-magical one - he'll have Gwen to keep him company while Merlin and Morgana do magic together.

"Lady Morgana!" Merlin knew she heard him; her steps faltered just for a moment, but she didn't turn back. If anything, she walked away faster. Have I done something to upset her? he wondered. Nothing came to mind, but for whatever reason it was obvious she didn't want his company. Still, it seemed wrong to leave her alone at a time when his instincts were telling him she really needed a friend. Maybe I should send Gwen to her. The lady seemed very close to her maid - if she wouldn't confide what was troubling her to Merlin, she might be more open with Gwen. "Invenire Guinevere."

A picture formed in his mind of the maid doing laundry; now that he knew her location he could contact her, tell her to go to her mistress...but he didn't. Gwen, he realized in the second before he sent his message to her, wasn't used to people magically speaking to her from a great distance. Hearing his voice in her head would frighten her, maybe even cause her to wonder if she was going mad.

He put down the herbs he had collected - Edwin could do without them for a little while longer - and went off to speak with Gwen in person.

###

Gwen found Morgana in her chambers, tracing the wood grain of the tabletop with her fingertip, eyes unfocused as she stared blankly ahead. The prince hadn't been wrong when he said she was troubled. "My lady?"

"Gwen, what are you doing here? Is it lunchtime already?"

"No, Prince Merlin said I should come see you. Did he do something?"

Morgana shook her head. "It's nothing he's done, Gwen, it's just him. I thought I could change him, cure him of his magic-"

"If there was a way to reform a sorcerer, don't you think Uther would have found it already?"

Morgana shrugged; Uther might have found something if he'd looked, but she doubted he had. Why go out of his way to help someone when chopping their head off was so much easier? She had been convinced she would find a better way - so sure that her cleverness and determination outstripped the old king's, that she could accomplish a task at which he had never succeeded. "It does not matter now. I've just learned that Merlin's magic is so much a part of him that he would die without it. Taking it away would put an end to him."

"Are you going to kill him then?" Gwen breathed, wide-eyed.

"No, harming him was never my purpose. I suppose I will just have to learn to live with him as he is, and hope for the best."

Gwen nodded sympathetically, understanding that that was going to be very hard for Morgana. She had never been good at accepting less than ideal circumstances; if there was anything she didn't like she was driven to try to change it, even when the odds were overwhelmingly against her. It was, in Gwen's opinion, one of her most admirable traits, but now it seemed more like a handicap. "Yes, I think that's for the b-"

A knock on the door cut Gwen off. Freya's voice called, "My lady? I've brought lunch."

Morgana composed herself at once. "Come in."

Freya entered with a tray bearing lunch for two - she had noticed that Morgana and Gwen ate together when the lady wasn't dining with Merlin and Arthur. They hadn't done this in Camelot because Uther wouldn't approve if he found out, but since she came to live in Dagon Morgana had realized she no longer had to hold herself to her guardian's rigid standards. Merlin's behavior certainly didn't always match what Uther would expect of a prince - he would keel over in shock if Arthur ever started doing chores for Gaius.

"Thank you, Freya. Would you like to join us?"

"No thank you, my lady. I'll eat with Will and Gwaine."

Morgana busied herself carving up her fish so Freya wouldn't see her grin as she remembered Gwaine's drunken mooning over the pretty witch. "Well, I won't keep you from your meal. You may go."

Freya curtsied, started to leave, then turned back and said, "Don't forget that at half-past three you have a meeting with the woman who'll be making your wedding dress."

"I'll see that she's on time," Gwen promised, rightly guessing from Morgana's expression that she had forgotten all about the dressmaker. This concerned Gwen deeply - Morgana must be extremely upset about Merlin if she wasn't even excited about getting a new dress.

###

Will and Gwaine were already waiting on the terrace when Freya arrived with their lunch. Gwaine's eyes lit up when he saw her...or maybe it was the food he was pleased to see. It was hard to tell with him.

"How's her highness?" Freya and Gwaine both cast sharp, scolding looks at Will, who raised his hands defensively. "I meant that in the most respectful way possible."

"You should respect Lady Morgana," Gwaine muttered darkly, "especially if she happens to have a rock in her hand." Will and Freya looked curiously at him; Gwaine had never told them the full story of the second time he encountered Morgana. It was just too humiliating to admit that he'd been knocked out by a skinny noblewoman with no proper weaponry. "Never mind."

"The Lady Morgana's settling in well, and she seems pretty nice. If she has some sinister, seditious plot up her sleeve I haven't seen any evidence of it yet." Will hadn't said a word against Morgana or even Uther since returning from Camelot, but Freya doubted that he'd given up his suspicions about the king's ward so easily.

"That's good to know, but right now I have a bigger problem than Morgana."

"And what might that be?" Gwaine asked.

Will grimaced. "I have to get Merlin to a fitting for the new clothes the king says he has to have for the wedding, and he hates those. Either of you want to help me?"

"I would, but I need to launder some sheets," Freya said quickly; she'd had too much experience of how difficult Merlin could be when forced to do something he disliked to want any part of it. She kicked Gwaine under the table, trying to let him know he'd better come up with an excuse of his own.

Fortunately for him, he took the hint and said, "I have stables to muck out."

Will gave them both an aggrieved look. "You two," he complained, dropping a piece of carrot back into his soup and brandishing his spoon accusingly at his friends, "are about as much help as a leaky boat." He wolfed down the rest of his lunch and dashed off, intent on ensuring that his master was on time for the all-important fitting. Royal weddings, he decided, were more trouble than they were worth.

"What was that all about?" Gwaine wondered as he watched the tail of his friend's jacket whip out of sight.

"You've never tried to make Merlin do anything he doesn't want to, have you?"

"No..."

"Trust me, you're better off cleaning the stables."

###

Morgana arrived at the room where the dressmaker had set up shop promptly at half-past three, only to be told that the woman was still busy with her first appointment - the dressmaker, she learned, made more than dresses and had also been put in charge of Merlin's new outfit. She waited until the castle bells struck four o'clock and wondered what could be taking so long. Finally, just as she was about to leave and reschedule for tomorrow, the door opened and Merlin emerged, looking very put out and clutching his right arm.

"You're wounded!" Morgana exclaimed.

"If you call being jabbed with pins a wound." Morgana looked at him curiously, so Merlin elaborated, "Mistress Flora doesn't like fidgeting. I'm not that good at keeping still."

"Sounds awful," Morgana said sympathetically. "You poor thing."

Arthur came down the corridor just in time to overhear them. "'Poor thing'?" he repeated. "I've had much worse injuries than a few pinpricks, and you were never that nice to me!"

"What do you want, Arthur?"

"To ask Merlin if he wants to join me on a hunting trip tomorrow."

"You're going hunting tomorrow?"

"Yes, Merlin, that's what I just said."

"But why? We don't need any more meat."

"Procuring meat is not the point," Morgana told him. "Arthur hunts for fun - at least, I can only guess it's fun, since I've never gone along."

"Of course you haven't. You'd only be in the way," Arthur stated.

"And you wonder why I'm not nicer to you."

"I'm sorry," Merlin interjected, "I just can't see the fun in needlessly killing innocent animals."

Arthur gave him a disgusted look. "You are such a girl's petticoat, Merlin."

"At least I'm not a cabbage-head, Arthur."

"Why are you saying my name like that?" Morgana giggled, and Arthur rounded on her. "Aren't you supposed to be looking at fabric for a new dress or something? Although I don't see why you need one - you already have a white dress."

"I am getting a new dress because it's my wedding, Arthur," Morgana said tartly. "One day you'll understand what an important occasion it is...if you can find a woman who'll have you." She yanked open the door of the workroom and flounced inside.

"Lady Morgana, is it?" At her affirmative nod the dressmaker said, "Well it's about time; I was starting to think I'd have to chase you down."

Privately, Morgana didn't think this woman had much chance of chasing her anywhere. Mistress Flora was middle-aged and so plump that her idea of her running was almost laughable, with a red, bulbous nose that hinted at a rather self-indulgent lifestyle. Perhaps Merlin's friend Gwaine wouldn't drink so much if he knew that this is what it leads to.

"You're a pretty one. It will be a pleasure designing your wedding dress. Clothiers! Bring the fabric samples for the Lady Morgana to choose from!"

A team of the dressmaker's assistants poured in from an adjoining room and laid out an overwhelming array of every type of material imaginable, ranging from heavy brocaded silk and samite to delicate lace and gossamer as fine as a butterfly's wings, in every shade of white from subdued to dazzlingly bright. Then there were the jewels: pearls, diamonds, silver, white gold, even incredibly rare scales from a white dragon. Morgana was delighted. No one ever told her what to wear (though Uther had insisted she have at least one dress in the Pendragon colors of red and gold; she had complied but made sure it was the most revealing item in her wardrobe) but she had never been presented with so many options before. Then again, this was the most important dress she would ever wear. She needed to choose the perfect cloth, the perfect design - everything had to be perfect. This may take a while...

###

"You seem in a better mood," Gwen remarked when she finally managed to drag Morgana and Mistress Flora apart. The two women appeared to be kindred spirits - or at least they were equally fond of elegant clothing.

"I was," Morgana agreed, "until you came to remind me that I still have my evening lesson with the historian. He is so dull! And he spends the entire time hovering over me, as if he thinks I can't comprehend what I'm reading without his help. It's quite irritating."

That night, however, Theodosius wandered off in search of a book brought to mind by his own incessant rambling, leaving Morgana alone for a spell. This should have pleased her, except that the book of laws he'd set her to reading was as boring as the man himself. Morgana struggled to stay focused, but the book was undeniably, slowly but surely, putting her to sleep. Resting her eyes for a minute couldn't hurt, she decided; they were getting sore from all the dust particles that floated into the air every time she turned a page. She propped her chin on one hand and closed her eyes...

Moments later, she jerked awake at the feeling of a hand on her shoulder. She twisted wildly in her chair as she searched for her attacker - but it was only old Theodosius, his papery features crinkled in concern. "Are you quite all right, Lady Morgana?"

"Yes...yes, I'm fine. With your permission, I'd like to leave our lesson here tonight. I think I've done all I can."

"Of course. Perhaps you should lie down-"

"An excellent idea. I believe I will, thank you," Morgana lied. In truth she had no intention of lying down, and especially not of sleeping, any time soon. She returned to her chambers as fast as she could without actually running there - it wouldn't do for anyone to see her running through the castle like a madwoman - and burst through the door like a windstorm.

Gwen let out a startled yelp and knocked over the bucket of water she was using to wash the floor. "Morgana! What-?"

Morgana pulled Gwen to her feet, ignoring the mess. "Gwen, something terrible has happened. I fell asleep in the library-"

"I wouldn't call that terrible. It might be embarrassing if you drooled in your sleep, but you don't."

Morgana gave a frustrated little sigh. "No, Gwen, you don't understand. It was the first time in days that I've slept without taking my potion first, and I had the dream again."

"The one with the fire?"

"No, the one that made me seek treatment from Edwin Muirden in the first place."

Gwen nodded her understanding. "Oh, the one about being smothered. I'm so sorry." She tried to hug Morgana, but the lady held her at bay.

"There was more this time. I was suffocating, burning inside - it was like I was drowning in my own blood - and there was someone standing over me, watching me die. It's obvious what this nightmare means, Gwen. Someone in the castle is going to poison me."

Gwen's eyes widened, and her mouth opened and closed soundlessly. It was almost comical, but Morgana was in no mood for laughter. "Who would do such a thing?"

"Amalla warned me that Sirenia can make life unpleasant for people who go against her."

"I'm sure she can, but murder-"

"She wants to be queen of Dagon," Morgana cut across her, "and she knows that won't happen while I live. People have murdered for less."

"I suppose." Gwen hated to think that anyone could be so power-hungry that they could snuff out a life without a thought, but she wasn't totally naïve; she had to admit Morgana had a point. "If you really think your life might be in danger, you have to tell the king."

"Tell the king what? That I had a nightmare? That hardly proves that a lady of the court is plotting murder."

"So what will you do?"

"First I'm going to speak to Lady Amalla."

###

Sirenia, Amalla said, wasn't known for poisoning people - if she wanted to get rid of someone she usually did so by spreading rumors about them, exposing their private vices; two ladies and one lord she'd quarreled with had already left court in shame. She was more than competent at brewing potions, though. A lot of people thought she had used a love potion last summer in a bid to seduce Lancelot; that incident was the source of Merlin's ill feelings toward her, but nobody had been able to obtain proof of her using illegal potions.

"She's never used anything, um, worse than a love potion, though," Amalla finished. "No poison."

"Thank you. Again, I apologize if I frightened you."

"Oh, that's all right. I'm not used to people, well, dragging me into alcoves. But I can, um-"

"Stop that," Morgana said forcefully but not unkindly. "If you've something to say, just say it. Don't hesitate."

Amalla laughed nervously. "I'll try, my lady. I was going to say, I can adjust."

"Well, I'll try not to make a habit of this." Morgana left the alcove, and came face to face with the Lady Sirenia herself. Why is it, she wondered, that today I have only to think of someone I'd rather not see at present, and they appear? If this is an effect of living in a place of magic, I don't like it. If it is a string of coincidences, they're damn annoying.

"Lady Morgana." Sirenia gave her a fake polite smile, which became a sneer when she spotted Amalla. "Look what crawled out of the library."

Amalla's face turned pink. "Leave her alone, you spiteful witch!" Morgana snapped.

"Was that meant to insult me? If so it was a poor attempt - I'm proud to be a witch. But you see magic as a curse, a disease, just like your guardian, don't you? Uther must be so proud. How long did it take him to mold your mind to mirror his own?"

"You know nothing about me," Morgana hissed, "or my mind, or what I believe. Don't pretend you do."

"That's fair enough. Maybe Uther hasn't molded your mind at all. Perhaps the rotten apple just didn't fall far from the tree."

Morgana raised one dark eyebrow. "Name-calling now, are we? I could play that game with you, but that's hardly fitting behavior for a future queen, is it? Come along, Amalla."

This time Morgana was the one to walk away with her follower in tow while Sirenia was left to fume, and swear that she would find a way to rid herself of that arrogant, self-righteous Pendragon tart.

Despite my best efforts, the OCs somehow slipped in again. I guarantee that the next chapter will be OC-free.