AN: This will surely come as a shock to all of you, but I do not own Merlin.

So.

Some things happened.

For those of you who still bother to read my excuses, I had some computer issues and ended up just having to get a new one. I was without a good one for a few months and then finals happened. But now I have internet and no more finals :D Trust me, I'm happy about it too.

So, without making you wait any longer, the waaaay overdue next chapter.

Freya frowned.

She didn't like the way Morgana and Morgause kept disappearing. The earthly hate usually found in the living had not left their eyes. Uther, like them, had not been so quick to forgive what had happened during his life after his death. When he'd arrived at Avalon, he'd moped and muttered swears against magic and glowered at anyone he saw cast a spell. However, she had the feeling whatever Morgana and Morgause were up to was much more sinister.

As much as she'd been hoping they'd let it go, it was clear they wouldn't. She supposed she should warn the others. She suspected Balinor and Mordred would help her if it came down to it.

Suddenly, a violent sense of nausea hit her. Gasping, Freya reeled backwards, but found she couldn't escape the dark wave of energy that was encasing her. It was something dark and ancient that she had never felt before, but felt it chill her to the bone. Frantically looking around for the source, she found herself facing an uncaring Morgana and a cool-eyed Morgause.

A cold weight appeared in her stomach. She had been right. She struggled, but she as not match for two High Priestesses.

"Morgana." She turned beseechingly to the dark-haired sorceress. "Please, whatever you're planning, just think-"

"Spare me your moral arguments," the witch interrupted. "What we are planning is between us and our enemies. Unfortunately, you, like Merlin, have a tendency to interfere with things that do not concern you. So we are merely taking a precaution."

The two witches turned away, leaving the druid paralyzed and fighting fruitlessly against her restraint. As they left, Freya caught sight of an ancient-looking book and her fear spiked further.

0o0

Arthur frowned.

He had hoped that his death might bring him and his father closer. That maybe their differences could be put aside. But his father was a little ways away, deliberately ignoring him as he had done since his son's arrival.

Biting his lip, he took a deep breath and approached the former king. He simply could not leave things like this, with the family he used to be close to refusing to speak to him.

"Father?"

Uther turned sharply at the sound of Arthur's voice and a scowl came over his face. Arthur's heart sank, but he refused to give up.

"I know you think I have betrayed you, but can't you see that was never my intention? I ruled how I saw fit, you did the same. Can we not just both accept that?"

Arthur knew it was pointless before he even finished speaking.

"The worst of this is that you don't even see that you've done anything wrong. I have tried to show you, but you have allowed serving girls and sorcerers to blind you. It's clear that that is permanent."

Arthur felt a prick of irritation. How could his father miss the painfully obvious fact that it was Uther who was blind?

"Is that what you keep telling yourself? Because that seems like an excuse to me, father. I love you, but you are refusing to even try to see my side!"

For a moment, Arthur thought his moment of anger had gone too far. Uther's jaw locked and he gave his son a murderous glare similar to the one he had given him a few months ago after Arthur had released him at the Stones. Arthur opened his mouth to apologize when he saw his father's eyes flicker. It was small, barely noticeable, but Arthur followed the direction of Uther's gaze.

He had glanced, just for a tiny heartbeat, at Arthur's mother.

Before the dead king had time to process this, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He didn't know why, but a sense of dread filled him, coming from the very atmosphere around him. He whirled around and found two familiar witches standing before them, holding a decrepit old book. It should be a fairly simple and unintimidating thing, but it radiated a sense of dark power that made Arthur take a step back.

Morgause's eyes flared gold. "Step aside, Arthur. Your father's first."

Then both witches began chanting and their eyes glowed.