Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin. I do own Jo, though. Heehee, that rhymes!

Merlin flung himself against the wall as another Dorocha screeched by, staved off at the last moment by the torch he held in his shaking hands. Even simply traveling through the castle was a potentially fatal venture. Nimueh ducked another one, scowling as it flew past in annoyance. The worst part of it all was that he could see the people that the Dorocha had once been: normal, non-malevolent spirits. Each of their faces flickered slightly before becoming wraiths once again.

Speaking of which, another spirit- this one strong enough to resist the pull of the darkness and keep from manifesting- paused as they were hurrying past. Merlin reeled back in shock as he beheld the face of Ygraine Pendragon, darkened by a frown of concern.

"Nimueh?" she said, tilting her head. "What are you doing here? I thought you were set on staying away from Camelot as much as possible." She noticed that Merlin was goggling at her, and the confusion on her face cleared away. "Ah."

"Not bent over the dying, Ygraine?" asked Nimueh derisively.

"I've been keeping an eye on my husband," was Ygraine's reply. A third spirit joined them, looking both anxious and curious about the proceedings. "Oh, hello Gorlois."

"You haven't seen Vivienne, have you?"

"She's out making sure your daughter stays out of trouble."

Gorlois- Morgana's thought-to-be father, Merlin now realized- swore under his breath before vanishing around a corner. Ygraine shot them an apologetic smile.

"I'm afraid I must be on my way as well." She was about to move away, but stopped and faced him to his surprise. "Thank you, Merlin. For protecting my son all these years. This seems a poor way to repay you."

Surprised and mollified by her gratitude, Merlin shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. "Er- right. Yeah. No problem."

She smiled radiantly. "He's such a nice young man, Nimueh. Try not to drive him crazy."

And on that reassuring note, she left. The sorceress started muttering under breath, but he only caught things like "sugar plums and fairies" and "too nice". Merlin ignored her and kept walking as quickly as possible, trying his best to get to the council chambers in one piece. Nimueh kept stride with him easily, almost gliding across the floor. Whether or not this was because she had always walked in that manner, or because she was a spirit, was a mystery to him.

They arrived soon enough, after dodging one more Dorocha, to find Gaius, Arthur, Agravaine, and several other knights already present. Nimueh wrinkled her nose at the sight of Agravaine.

"Well, isn't he a looker."

"There must be something we can do!" insisted Arthur. The sheer frustration in his voice made the warlock wince slightly. Arthur was rarely this flustered, but then the Dorocha were a serious problem that couldn't be ignored. Percival had brought in three more children who had been trapped outside by the Dorocha, and more corpses arrived every day.

"The veil would have needed a sacrifice to open it," said Gaius. "If I'm not mistaken, to close it will require another."

Arthur went very still, staring at the court physician with an unreadable expression. Nimueh chose this moment to say wryly, "April fool."

This was too much; Merlin rounded on her, about to hiss abuse, but noticed that Agravaine was eyeing him oddly. Coughing quietly, he quickly faced the prince again, trying not to look like he'd just been about to yell at the pillar next to him. Nimueh laughed.

"Very well," said Arthur at last, his face curiously blank. "I will take a group of knights and ride out at first light for the Isle of the Blessed." Merlin immediately spotted the cogs in his brain whirling, catching on to what Arthur was planning and not liking it one bit.

"But who will be the sacrifice?" asked a none-too-worried Gaius.

"It should be you," Nimueh spitefully spat.

"Me," was Arthur's calm reply. Despite Merlin's disapproval of this plan, he felt his respect for the prince rise even more at the determination he saw. "If I must give my life for my people, then that is what must be done."

"No!" Merlin recognized the voice as Ygraine's, who must have just entered the hall. In a moment she was beside him, looking at him imploringly. "He mustn't!"

"Don't worry," came Nimueh's voice, full of undisguised glee. She moved around to stand in front of him, smirking as they made eye contact. "Merlin here intends to do it himself, don't you? Looks like he'll be joining us sooner than he intended."

Morgana should have expected this, but it was a shock all the same. Morgause looked as she had before her injury; her face was smooth, her eyes bright, and her hair once again lustrous.

And yet... despite these improvements, she didn't think she had seen Morgause more wretched.

"I am so sorry," she whispered, not moving forward, not meeting her eyes. Morgana almost staggered at the crushing guilt that her sister seemed to feel. "I brought this upon you. I... I could not have foreseen that you would be punished in such a way- for actions done at my urging."

"Morgause," said Morgana, noticing how said woman jumped at the firmness of her voice. An uncharacteristic sadness welled up in her, recalling that she could no longer hug her as she wished to. "There is nothing to forgive. It allows me to see you again, does it not?"

"That is..." The blond woman trailed off, sighing. "This is the last time, Morgana."

"...what are you talking about?" Her sister still wouldn't look at her. "Sister?"

"They have absolved me," Morgause murmured. "The circumstances were beyond my control, they do not blame me... I am to go to Avalon."

"But..." For a few moments, Morgana found herself unable to speak. "Th-that's wonderful, sister!" Her voice broke.

"This was selfish of me," said Morgause, sounding a bit more like her old self. "I should not have come."

"No!" The desperate, shouted word made her sister freeze, brown eyes fixed on her. Morgana tried, and failed, to smile. "I'm glad you did. Truly."

Both sisters stared at one another, each unable to conceive that they would be parted- possibly forever- very soon. Morgana drank in every detail of Morgause's face, committing it to memory, praying that she would one day see it again. Morgause seemed to be doing the same thing, and came forward, falling to her knees beside her sister.

"Forgive me- not for what you think," whispered her sister. When Morgana tilted her head in question, she continued: "One day, you will understand."

She lowered herself to her sister's level, this time smiling for real.

Then she wept.

Jo turned her face away from the disgusting scene, disdaining it as she did everything. Morgause was lucky- lucky that from her birth, people had made most of her choices for her. She really had believed that she was doing the right thing, and that was why 'they', the nameless ones that most of the dead were not permitted to speak of, had given her the right to move on.

Vivienne was watching quietly, as was her husband. Neither of them said anything, but their hands were clasped tightly. Jo scoffed silently, wondering at their ability to simply overlook past wrongs. Neither of them were as kind or compassionate as Ygraine, yet they still stayed together. She knew very well that for her to do the same was nigh impossible.

She returned to Morgana's hovel, in anticipation of Agravaine's visit. The witch had explained how he was helping her, hoping for revenge on the death of his sister. Jo suspected that he had an alternative motive that was far more prevalent, but decided to judge that for herself.

It was nearly an hour before Morgana herself entered, the redness around her eyes an indication of her grief. A hard look was plastered onto her face, and Jo had a feeling that she would become even more vicious towards the ensuing visitor. Jo had never seen him before; he had only come to Camelot recently, and every time she had gone to the castle to visit Ygraine, he was simply not around.

The knock on the door caused both of them to whip their heads around in time to see a tall, dark haired man enter. Jo read the half-nervous, half-eager look on his face at once and snorted quietly.

"My lady."

"What news?" Morgana demanded.

"Everything is proceeding as you expected. Arthur intends to sacrifice himself to repair the veil. Camelot is in an uproar."

"How terrible." Both smirked. Jo gagged loudly. "What of the poor people?"

"Devastated."

"Hm." Morgana began pacing, which almost caused Jo to laugh out loud, wondering if the witch knew that she looked exactly like Arthur when she did so. "Very well. You may go."

"My lady," he said again, bowing slightly. His face turned in her direction as he left, so Jo was able to catch the disappointed look on his face. The moment the door closed behind him, she immediately let Morgana know of her opinion of him.

"'My lady'," she mimicked. "That man's... what? Twice your age? He's practically in love with you. This is not going to end well."

"Is he?" replied Morgana distractedly, stoking the fire and throwing in some ingredients for a stew. "I hadn't noticed."

Jo gawked. "It's blindingly obvious! Poor Agravaine, felled by the misfortune of unrequited love..." She shuddered. "Mind you, the way you two were smirking at each other for a moment, it was almost as if you did 'know something' that others didn't, if you catch my drift."

Morgana rolled her eyes. "Must you be so frank?"

"I'm dead," said Jo shortly. "I can do whatever the bloody hell I want. You have strange taste in men, by the way. First off, I'm pretty sure that you and Arthur had something going on for awhile, despite him being your brother. And now you've got a sort-of uncle fancying you. Gross. Please tell me you've had other, more sensible romances."

"What, like you?" asked Morgana derisively. "I don't remember there being someone particularly special in your life."

"I'm asexual, Morgana," said Jo, making sure her tone was patronizing. "I don't get romantic feelings. If it makes you feel any better, I used to like girls."

To her surprise, Morgana didn't really react to that statement. "This wouldn't happen to have stopped only after you died, would it?"

"Don't worry," said Jo, her voice turning flat. "It stopped long before that. I only ever felt that way for one person."

"Were you expecting me to be surprised?" Morgana shot back, folding her arms. "There are rumors circulating around Arthur and his manservant, you know."

"Of course I know. They're entirely untrue, too. I hope that reassures you."

"Why would it?"

"I seem to recall you letting Merlin into your room for reasons other than your sleeping draft several times."

This time Morgana's reaction was more entertaining. She stubbed her toe on her furniture, yelping and cursing and glaring at Jo all the while. "That was nothing! He... he was just helping me. With my magic. Before he poisoned me, of course."

"And I suppose that's why you felt so betrayed when he did," said Jo sarcastically. "People betray their friends, Morgana. You did to Guinevere, and did she plot for ages on end to get revenge? No. So we can only infer that you thought of gangly little Merlin a different way- and that you thought he felt the same."

Jo smiled and seated herself by the fire. "Apparently not, though."

He took in a deep gasp of air as the sun finally rose, releasing him from the awful state of the Dorocha. Will doubled over, forcing the tears from his eyes, relieved to at last be free.

He headed down a corridor, praying that he hadn't been responsible for any lives taken that night. Camelot seemed as busy as ever in daylight, however, so he assumed that no serious damage had been done. Turning past one of the spare bedrooms, he thought he heard voices inside, and paused to listen.

"Destiny won't like this."

"Really? You're warning me about that? And here I thought you were all for it."

Will started; that was Merlin's voice, for sure, but the female with him was unrecognizable. He frowned slightly, crouching over and peering through the keyhole. Yep, there was his friend, pacing around the room in frustration while a dark haired woman looked on with a somewhat amused look on her face. Will almost rolled his eyes; why did his friend get all the good looking ones?

"If this is what it takes to stop Morgana, then I'll do it," said Merlin firmly.

"And who will be here to stop her when she comes up with another evil plan to destroy Camelot?" demanded Nimueh. When Merlin didn't answer, she continued. "Destiny isn't so easily altered, as you very well know. It'll find some way to counteract this, and you may not like it. By the way, we have an eavesdropper."

Will suddenly wished that he was a Dorocha again, as the door flew open revealing his still alive best friend, whose jaw dropped at the sight of him. Will himself gawked back, surprised that Merlin could even see him.

"Will!" he exclaimed, not looking as surprised as he expected. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd be back in Ealdor, or... something..."

"You can see me?" choked Will.

"Oh. Right. Yeah, I can. Something about having so much power or something weird like that. I guess I've gotten used to it. I met the old queen yesterday, and Morgana's father, so it's getting hard to be shocked..."

"I'm taking credit for that," said the woman behind him. She sauntered forward, looking at Will curiously, which caused him to gulp and take a step back. "Him not being shocked, I mean. Are you going to introduce us?"

"Will, Nimueh. Nimueh, Will," said Merlin quickly. "Er... best friend since childhood, meet second most evil sorceress ever."

"Evil... sorceress?" said Will, looking back and forth between them, noting the grimace on Merlin's face and the gleeful look on Nimueh's. "You know what, I'm not even going to ask. As to how I got here, well..." he scowled. "It's hard to know where you're going when you're a Dorocha."

"Oooh. Bad luck," said Nimueh cheerfully.

"I can't help it!" exclaimed Will at the suspicious look on Merlin's face. "It just... happens. It's not something I can control or anything."

"Seems we have a weakling on our hands," commented the sorceress lightly. "They can't resist the transformation at nightfall."

Merlin's face darkened at her words, almost making Will groan. He knew that look only too well.

"It's not going to happen," the warlock said firmly. "Not on my watch. I'll find a way to stop it."

"Don't bother Merlin," said Will quietly. "Closing the gate's the only way."

"Lucky for you, Will," said Nimueh, saying his name somewhat derisively, "It'll be closed soon. You'll have... maybe one more night of this?"

"Ahh, no!" exclaimed Merlin, slapping a hand to his forehead. "Arthur's expecting me to be ready to go! I completely forgot."

He sprinted out of the room. Nimueh laughed quietly, sending chills down Will's spine, and followed. Will himself stayed, realizing that if he went with, he would only hinder Merlin at best when nightfall came. He sat down on the cold bed, placing his face in his hands, wishing that the tearing of the veil had never happened.

He only had one night left, if Arthur and Merlin succeeded. But he wasn't certain that one night wouldn't break him.

"Is this really what you wanted, Morgana?"

Morgana screamed.

"You should turn back, Merlin," Lancelot told him quietly, the quiet concern on his face not deterring the warlock in the slightest. "Your death will not help us."

"Your death will not help us, Merlin," Nimueh echoed. She shot Lancelot a dirty look. "It'll help some of us, honor boy, stop discouraging him!"

"What's wrong?" Lancelot asked, sounding resigned. Merlin turned to his friend in confusion, almost falling off his horse as it turn a sudden turn to avoid a tree. They were traveling through the forest, finally setting out for the Isle of the Blessed. He felt guilty; their journey would at least take two days, not the one that he had originally assumed, so Will was going to have to suffer as a Dorocha for one more day. He wished he could simply call Kilgarrah and get a ride to the isle; the increasing gloom of the trees was reminding him that night would fall soon, and with it, Will would be forced to become a monster once again.

"Merlin?"

"Ah, nothing," he responded quickly.

"I know you intend to take Arthur's place," said Lancelot in a low voice. "Is that-"

"No!" exclaimed Merlin quickly; Gwaine looked behind them, but quickly faced front again, opting for once not to comment. "No," he said, lowering his voice. "It's just..." he trailed off, wincing and wondering if he was about to make a big mistake. "Lancelot, if I tell you this, please don't think I'm crazy."

"You're my friend, Merlin," Lancelot said firmly. "I have faith in you."

"Right. I guess... what's bothering me is that I can see the dead."

"So can we all," answered Lancelot answered, confused.

"No- not just at night. I see them as they normally are, all the time. In fact, one of them is currently trying to get me to laugh by pretending to be a rabbit behind your back."

"It's supposed to be a pony!" Nimueh yelled at him.

Lancelot looked nonplussed. "You... aren't by any chance joking, are you?" he asked warily.

"I wish," groaned Merlin. "Do you know how many headaches she's given me?"

"She?"

This was now the second time he had explained his stalker to someone. Merlin had decided on calling her a stalker, since every other term he thought of made him sound like a willing participant- which he wasn't!

"Nimueh. She's a sorceress who has tried several times to kill Arthur and Uther. She died on the Isle of the Blessed."

His tone wary, Lancelot asked, "Did you kill her?"

Swallowing, Merlin nodded. It wasn't so much that she was dead, but that when he thought of himself, from when it happened... he had been someone different. Some dark person that didn't hesitate to use his powers- powers that practically made him a god- for his own ends. Had he been right to disregard her life so easily? Certainly, he used her life to revive Gaius, but what if it was someone who wasn't so guilty the next time? Would he hesitate- or would he not even think about it? In the background, said sorceress was shouting, "Yes, he killed me! With lightning!"

"I believe you," said Lancelot carefully. "You aren't the type to just fabricate something that big- though others might argue against that statement."

Merlin half-smiled at him. "Thanks, Lancelot."

They found an old castle where they could stay the night; they just barely managed to gather enough wood to light a fire before the screams began. Merlin fidgeted with his neckerchief while they waited, glancing every so often at the other faces, illuminating by the flames. He guessed that ghosts didn't need any sleep, as Nimueh hadn't slept for several days now. She too sat in front of the fire, ragged dress barely enough to cover her thighs. He was determined to ignore her for once; whenever he did talk to her, Lancelot glanced nervously towards where he thought she must be, as though he was expecting her to attack.

Merlin appreciated his concern, despite knowing that Nimueh could not harm him- not directly, at least. He nudged the fire with his foot, causing it to spark slightly. A sudden feeling came over him- as though something was burning him, from the inside out. It took all of his energy to keep from gasping out loud, but the pain he felt must have shown on his face, because Lancelot twitched and frowned.

He opened his mouth to reassure him, but suddenly found himself pulled into a version- a terrible one, of another place. He was staring down at Morgana, and recognized the feeling of age within himself; he must have been disguised as Dragoon the Great again. Yet she was reaching out to him, clearly injured or dying, and gasping:

"Help me, Emrys," she whispered. He started, wondering how she knew he was called that. "Please..."

He didn't know why, but he asked her, "Is this really what you wanted, Morgana?"

"Merlin!"

And then he was back at the camp, noticing the worried look on Lancelot's face. Gwaine was looking concerned as well, sitting up from where he'd been lounging against a rock.

"You alright, mate? Nightmare?"

Merlin just nodded, realizing that he was cured of the burning feeling; technically it wasn't a lie, though he suspected that it was more than a nightmare. Judging by Lancelot's expression, he believed the same, and Nimueh was staring at him curiously from where she sat.

"This isn't going to be enough to last us," called Elyan. "We need more firewood."

Surprisingly, Arthur volunteered at once. "I'll go."

Alarmed, Merlin sprang up. "I'll come with you."

"Merlin," hissed Lancelot in warning, but Merlin shot him a look that brooked no argument. Resigned, Lancelot leaned back. Silent for once, Nimueh rose to her feet, clearly intending to trail the pair. The prince and the warlock made their way into the ruins, picking up stray sticks and other bits they could use as fuel. Several Dorocha flew at them, but Arthur fended them off easily enough, while Merlin basically cowered behind him.

"Why'd you even come, if you were going to just shake like a leaf?" drawled Arthur lazily.

"Well, I don't expect you know how to collect firewood," retorted Merlin, keeping his voice steady.

"Ha ha."

This time the Dorocha took them by surprise, swooping in at them and causing Arthur to drop the torch he was holding. The flame sputtered, attempting to stay alive for a moment, before dying out.

The two looked at each other, their own horror mirrored on the face of the other, before they ran for it, blindly hurrying through a door and slamming it closed. Arthur grabbed Merlin and crouched against the wall, keeping Merlin beside him. They focused on the door, holding their breath, waiting for one of the creatures to break through.

"They always say the darkest hour is before the dawn," commented Arthur, his voice bordering on hysteria.

"Nice to know," said Merlin, keeping his tone light. "Good encouragement."

"We'll get out of this," growled Arthur. "You're not going to die."

"Arthur, Camelot needs you."

"What good am I if I can't show that I'm willing to lay down my life for my people?"

Merlin sighed, exasperated. "I'm just a servant!"

"Yes, and you're probably the worst servant I've ever had. You're clumsy, idiotic, can't polish my armor right, can't fight to save your life, can't clean my room without tripping, and-"

"Nice to see your opinions haven't changed."

"- you're..." here Arthur seemed to choke on his own words. "Probably the greatest friend I've ever had."

Merlin blinked, but couldn't stop the wide smile that split his face at these words. It wouldn't go away, not even when Arthur added, "Even if you're still a fool."

"I'm proud to be your friend."

He noticed the smallest of smiles flicker on Arthur's face, but it was gone in a flash. The prince solemnly held out a hand, which Merlin shook firmly. Both of them stiffened as the next scream rang out, indicating that the Dorocha had found them. Merlin was almost paralyzed by the same fear he'd been gripped with before, but managed to push past it just as the wounded spirit rushed at them. Arthur made to stand, but he shoved him aside, throwing himself in the way of the creature.

Nothing could have prepared him for the arctic chill that seemed to rip straight through his core. He barely felt his feet lift off the floor, or his back slam into the wall. He didn't hear Arthur's scream, or Nimueh's loud laugh.

His eyes weren't closed, but he could see nothing.

I'm trying my best to write the Merlin/Arthur dynamic, but it's proving to be more difficult than I expected. Oh well; best not to dwell on it too much.

Reason for the title: Metaphor is a comparison made without using the words like or as. I remember that 'The Darkest Hour' was supposed to be falling on the fear of the dark, so I thought of the Dorocha as a metaphor to that fear.

Reason for Jo's sexuality: Yes, she was a lesbian once. Her one crush never found out, and she has never been in love since. She will never have a love interest for the duration of the story. She IS NOT crushing on Morgana; as I said, she no longer gets romantic feelings. So if you aren't a fan of femslash, don't worry; this story won't contain it. If you readers demand a romance for her, then I'll see what I can do, but I'm probably going to keep her single. As for why, I just thought it fit her character.

Aaaand we've finished The Darkest Hour- Part 1! Onto part 2 next. We'll see some more of Ygraine, Gorlois, and Vivienne, plus you know that Lancelot will soon be joining the spirit entourage (waah!). Unfortunately, there will be no more Morgause; I had her be able to move on (seriously, I don't know how Avalon exactly works, but I'm improvising. Again. You may shoot me if you wish). Okay, maybe I'll have her show up somehow sometime waaaay later in the story, but it won't be for awhile.

Also, there might be an out-of-canon meeting between our two favorite characters...

Review!