I have a special treat for you this time: a whole chapter of nothing but Merlin and Morgana! No other characters, no interruptions, and the barriers between them are coming down. Enjoy!

The capital city of Dagon, like its counterpart in Camelot, was built on a slight elevation and surrounded by a vast expanse of clear land so invaders couldn't approach undetected. It was on this unoccupied land, a few miles from the capital, that Morgana came upon Merlin's horse. The black stallion was grazing, his reins loosely draped over the pommel of his empty saddle. His rider was nowhere in sight.

Morgana edged Justinia closer to the other horse, fighting a gnawing fear in her stomach as she realized something must have happened to Merlin. The stallion raised his head and nickered at Justinia. Morgana leaned over and grabbed his reins, looping them over her own saddle. "Where's your master, boy? Prince Merlin? Prince Merlin!"

"Yes?"

Morgana jumped as he appeared from behind the trunk of a huge oak. "Why were you hiding behind that tree?" she exclaimed crossly. "I feared you'd been abducted by bandits or taken a fall and cracked your head open!"

"Bandits would have stolen my horse, and if I'd been hurt my magic would've helped me heal. You don't need to worry about me."

"I can see that. It seems there is nothing you cannot do - except find time for your future bride."

Her icy tone cut like a whip, and judging by Merlin's expression he definitely felt its sting. "Ah...well, you see, I... It wasn't that I couldn't find time, more that I couldn't find the right words to say to you. I think I'm still having that problem right now."

"I wouldn't have cared if you had little to say, my lord; I wouldn't even have minded if you said nothing at all. Anything would have been better than being ignored completely."

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to ignore you, I just thought you might prefer it if I stayed away. It's my job to keep you safe, and instead I led you straight to a man who nearly killed you! You should be furious with me."

As they talked they had moved closer to one another; now, with Merlin standing at her horse's shoulder, Morgana reached down, curled her gloved fingers around his chin, and made him look up at her. "I know you didn't act out of any malicious intent and I don't blame you. Please do not blame yourself."

Merlin jerked his head away. "Why not? Your life was endangered and we have no physician, all because I failed to see that one of the people closest to me was plotting murder right under my nose and stop him before it came to the point where someone had to die. I failed in every way possible."

"That isn't true - you didn't let me die. I hope you don't count saving me as a failure."

"Of course not! As angry as I am at myself for allowing any of this to happen, it would have been far worse if you'd died."

"Is that so? With me gone, perhaps you could have persuaded the king to let you marry Freya. That would be so much simpler, right?" she asked coolly.

Merlin's mouth fell open. "How did you-?"

Morgana smirked. "Just because a lady appears to be sleeping, you should never assume she can't hear you."

"I'm...sorry," Merlin said almost questioningly. He wasn't sure why he felt the need to apologize for a simple remark except that it had clearly displeased her.

"I don't want you to be sorry, I only want to know why you would rather be with that maidservant than with me. What does she have that I do not?"

Merlin was once more at a loss for words, shocked into speechlessness - until he saw the hurt on Morgana's face. She genuinely believed he liked Freya better than her, and it pained her deeply. "Nothing," he blurted, forcing the word out in an attempt to take away her pain. "I don't want to be with Freya."

"But you said-"

"-That being with her would be easier, not that it's what I want. Freya is one of the kindest, sweetest girls I know, but I just don't feel that way about her. When I'm with her...apart from her being a girl, it's almost the same as spending time with any of my other friends."

"And you do not feel that way with me?"

"No, you don't bring Will, Lancelot, or Gwaine to mind in any way."

Morgana considered this. "I'm glad of that, since they're all men." Merlin laughed. Morgana wondered if she dared ask him about the rumors of a love affair in his past, but decided that would be stretching her luck too far. She had already scolded him for not spending enough time with her even though he wasn't really obligated to do so as well as interrogating him about a remark that had turned out to be harmless and the fairly personal matter of his feelings for one of his friends, and he had taken it all without betraying the slightest sign of impatience or irritation; bringing up the rumors as well might be one inquisition too many. She opted for what she thought was a safer question instead. "What are you doing out here, my lord? I was told you were exercising your horse, yet it seems to me he isn't working very hard." She nodded at the black stallion, who was still grazing.

Merlin's amusement suddenly vanished, his head tilting to one side as he gazed thoughtfully up at her. "Get off your horse, please."

"What?"

"If you want me to show you why I came to this spot you'll have to dismount, Lady Morgana." Morgana dismounted, and he held out his hand. "Walk with me, my lady?"

"But the horses - we can't just leave them," she protested.

"They won't wander off," he assured her. "You don't really think I'd make you walk all the way back to the castle, do you?"

She released Justinia with no further objection - there was still a lot she didn't understand about Merlin's magic, but if he said he could somehow keep their horses from running away, she was willing to take him at his word - and took his hand. He led her around the oak tree, which was wide as a tower at its base and far taller. The roots branched out several yards in all directions, and they were so thick that they made the ground bulge up near the trunk.

"Watch your step," Merlin warned as he helped her over an especially large root. "You don't want to end up with a twisted ankle, and those shoes wouldn't be much help if you fell." He shot a disapproving look down at her doeskin shoes. Dyed black and embroidered in red, they completed her outfit perfectly and had just enough of a heel to be acceptable for riding, but did nothing to protect her ankles.

"Forgive me, my lord; unlike you, I can't go stamping around in boots every day. It's not the style for a lady...though I wouldn't expect a man who wears the same clothes all week to understand that."

"Good, because I don't." They had circled halfway around the massive tree so that the city was now completely blocked from their view. On this side of the tree there was an overgrown grave, its moss-splotched tombstone nestled against the trunk so that the oak's roots almost seemed to embrace it.

Morgana pitied whoever had had to dig it; excavating among those roots must have been backbreaking work. "Who-?"

"My mother. I know this isn't where you'd expect to find the grave of a queen, but Father told me she would've hated being buried in some dusty mausoleum under the castle. From what I've heard there weren't many castles where she grew up, and I don't think she ever took to them."

That was odd. What sort of noblewoman didn't grow up in a castle? "Where was that?"

"A village called Ealdor; I think it's in Escetia. On her twelfth birthday she left to be trained by the priestesses of the Old Religion."

"And your priestesses do not live in castles?"

"Since they don't invite men into their living quarters, I wouldn't know."

"I thought the High Priestess was your friend?"

"She is...as much as she can ever be friends with anyone. She likes me, otherwise she probably would have killed me by now, or trapped me in a cave or tree somewhere, or whatever else she does to the people she doesn't get along with."

This matter-of-fact statement disturbed Morgana. If Merlin, who seemed so powerful to her, took it as indisputable fact that this High Priestess could do such things to him, then she must possess fearsome magic indeed. She hoped never to meet the woman, then remembered she had no choice - the High Priestess was supposed to attend her wedding.

"I think she would have liked you - my mother, I mean," Merlin continued. "I know she'd have liked that you carry a dagger everywhere. She used to tell me even those without swords can still die on the end of one, so it's better to know how to use them even if you are a woman. Or maybe she said especially if you're a woman."

Morgana smiled. "I think I would have liked her too. What happened to her?"

"You haven't heard?"

"I heard only that she died when you were still a child; no one has told me how. My lord, did...did Uther have anything to do with her death?"

Merlin seemed surprised. "Where did you get that idea?"

"I thought perhaps, in the great purge of Camelot..."

"Mother was never in Camelot. Don't worry, my lady, your guardian didn't kill my mother - not directly at least. During the purge there was a lot of disagreement over whether we should declare war against Camelot, try to stop what King Uther was doing. Most people didn't want a war; there are a lot of sorcerers here but many of them don't actually have magic strong enough to be useful in battle. All they want is to live in peace and be accepted for who they are. The dragons also advised my father against fighting Camelot, so he decided not to. A small rebel faction got so angry over his choice that they tried to overthrow him. They were led by a very charismatic druid called Alvarr, and he was a powerful sorcerer. He and his followers gave my father a fair bit of trouble; it wasn't quite a civil war, but it might have come to that if my mother hadn't finished him off. The coward dealt her a fatal blow just before he died." Merlin's eyes darkened with anger. They were still holding hands, and his grip had become crushingly tight.

Morgana was so spellbound by his story that she hardly noticed the pain. "Did that end the rebellion?" she asked softly.

"Oh, it ended. Father was so furious over losing her that he sent the dragons to finish off Alvarr's followers - it's the only time I ever heard of him ordering them to attack anyone."

Morgana shuddered and resolved never to get on the wrong side of Balinor. "I'm sorry. That must have been terrible for you."

"It could have been worse - I still have my father after all. In fact losing Mother brought us closer to each other. I used to be a little scared of him as a child - I think it was that big, scratchy beard - but then he was all I had." Morgana nodded understandingly. As he relaxed Merlin finally realized he was holding her hand much too tightly, loosened his grip, and began rubbing it to restore the flow of blood. "I guess in that way I'm luckier than you; you're Uther Pendragon's ward, so you must have lost both your parents?"

"Yes, my father died in battle. I had passed my tenth birthday, so I was fortunate to have five years more with him than you had with your mother."

"What about your mother?"

Morgana yanked her hand away. "I don't wish to talk about her!"

Merlin drew back a little. Her hands were clenched, her posture defensive; she reminded him of a wounded animal lashing out at anyone who tried to touch it. Perhaps she was wounded, except her wounds weren't the kind that could be seen. "All right! I won't breathe another word about her. I promise."

She drew in a long breath and calmed herself. "I apologize, I just-"

"It's fine. So your father..." She hadn't reacted negatively when her father was mentioned, so Merlin figured he was allowed to ask questions about him.

"My father was Lord Gorlois of Cornwall. Uther called him an invaluable ally," she said proudly. "I only wish he wasn't so invaluable that he kept getting sent into battle."

"You must have loved him very much."

Morgana nodded. "His loss was devastating, though visiting his grave is always a comfort to me. It was," she amended. "I don't suppose I shall get to do that again unless you travel to Camelot some day and choose to take me with you."

Hearing the forlorn resignation in her voice, Merlin felt a rush of sympathy and admiration - sympathy because being so far from the last place where she felt a connection to her beloved father must be unimaginably hard for her, and admiration for the way she had borne total deracination without falling to pieces. If he'd had to go live in Camelot instead, he didn't know if he could have handled being taken from the only home he'd ever known so well. "Any time you want to visit your father's grave, just tell me. I'll arrange it." Magical transportation would have to be used, obviously, but perhaps by the time she decided to start asking him for favors magic wouldn't be so alarming to her.

She searched his face and saw nothing there to make her doubt his willingness or ability to keep that promise. "Thank you, my lord. You're very generous."

"Don't mention it. If there's anything in my power to do that brings you pleasure, then I'm happy to do it, my lady."

"Morgana," she blurted out on impulse. "I think after all the kindness you've shown me, not to mention saving my life, you've earned the right to be less formal in my company."

"I didn't do it - any of it - expecting anything from you in return, my lady."

She let out a small sigh of impatience; he really was noble to a fault. "If you don't feel you've earned this, then consider it given to you by someone who would like to be counted among your friends...even if I am not Will or Sir Lancelot."

Merlin grinned, some of his seriousness slipping away. "I've never been friends with a lady before," he mused, "especially not one I'm engaged to. Shouldn't we be trying for more than friendship?"

"We have plenty of time for that since we're to spend the rest of our lives together," she pointed out. "Friendship seems a good place to start."

"All right...Morgana." He said her name slowly, tasting it like a new savory dessert. It felt different in his mouth with no honorific attached. He decided he liked it better than 'my lady'; that was too impersonal, and Morgana was a pretty name. Just right for a pretty girl. "Well, Morgana, would you care to return to the city with me?"

"As you wish, my lord."

"If we're going to be on such intimate terms, you should call me Merlin. I'm only 'my lord' to my friends if we're somewhere we might be overheard - can't have people thinking they're being disrespectful. I don't suppose that's a problem for you and me, though."

She smiled brightly. "As you wish, Merlin." She followed him away from Hunith's grave, feeling elated; not only was there nothing between him and Freya, he didn't even think of her as a girl, not really. Better yet, he seemed to truly care for her, and she felt closer to him than ever.

As he had promised, their horses were still grazing where they had left them.

Next chapter will have more Mergana, but I'm afraid there'll be other characters too since they weren't all wiped out by a meteor falling on the city while Merlin and Morgana were outside it.