Author's notes: I am so happy to read your reviews and to pick up more followers. I have broken through my target and people following this story are now getting close to 100. You have all made me very happy.

This next chapter is devoted to Merlin and Morgana, the light and dark side of magic! I hope you enjoy.

Chapter Seventeen

Confronting the Witch... Or Not

With feigned patience, Merlin waited in the brightly torch-lit antechamber while the jailer unlocked Morgana's cell. Outside, the night was at its darkest, the citadel at its quietest as the hour of the change of the guard fast approached. The sentries would soon be relieved, and they were grateful. Though the men knew of the importance of their mission, they were bored and tired, standing for hours in the one spot with little to do.

The soldier's cramped fingers fumbled with the key, causing Merlin to stifle a groan, but he resisted the temptation to open the door with magic. He still wasn't comfortable using magic in front of people with whom he was hardly acquainted, and if Morgana had genuinely forgotten she had magic, he didn't want to remind her.

Finally, the door was opened and Merlin stepped inside, passing under Iseldir's straw manikin, while checking its magic was still viable. The other guard lit the torches on the wall either side of the door, casting a flickering light over the sparsely furnished room. Nevertheless, the accommodation was very likely a great improvement on anything The High Priestess would have offered her enemies.

Nodding his thanks to the soldiers, Merlin motioned for the door to be locked behind him. He walked further into the room, standing quietly, absorbing the atmosphere, yet he could find no sense of threat. However, he realised that the silent figure on the bed was not asleep, rather she had tensed at the sound of the opening door, her every nerve alert. Merlin decided there was no benefit in postponing what he had come for.

"I think we need to talk, Morgana."

The slim woman swung immediately to the source of the voice, squinting in the wavering light. "Merlin! Oh, thank goodness it's you. Please tell me what's happening." She pulled herself into a sitting position, tucking her legs beneath her. "I've asked the guards if I can have an audience with Arthur, but they ignore me completely. The only person I've seen is that grey-haired old man. I think he might be a Druid, but he only brings me food and asks me if I'm comfortable." Her mouth twisted in distaste as she scanned the bare room. "How can I be comfortable here in this draughty tomb... and why won't Arthur talk to me?"

Merlin's every magical sensation was thrumming with apprehension, and all his wits were on high alert as he broached the conversation he should have had a long time ago with his adversary.

"It's simple. As we have already told you, Arthur won't see you because you've been trying your hardest to kill him for the past six years."

Morgana's mouth dropped open in shock, regarding her old friend a little like he had grown two heads. "Merlin, that's ridiculous. I thought you would tell the truth." She rose from the bed, but it seemed her legs would not carry her as she stood rigidly still. "Last night, I didn't understand what any of you were talking about... and I still don't. Arthur is like a brother to me. I would never harm him." She sank back to the coverlet again. "Why would I want to kill Arthur?"

"Because you tried to seize the crown, not once but three times, and, for some reason which I cannot work out, you hate him. Now, I understand why you turned on Uther, but Arthur never did you any harm... He would never have hurt you. He would have protected you, no matter what!"

"Merlin, that's insane! " Morgana's hands covered her ears, not wanting to listen. "Why would you lie like this? Arthur's throne is not mine to take," she declared, tears welling in her lovely eyes, spilling down her ivory cheekbones. "I too would protect Arthur with my life. You know I have done so. I don't understand why you don't believe me... I don't understand."

Merlin used his magic to probe Morgana's aura, yet for all the trouble and torture she had subjected them to over the years, for the present, he could find no subterfuge in this broken woman. Was she a shade returned to haunt them, called back from beyond the veil by some unknown enemy to carry out some diabolical plan?

Shades had no soul, but he would swear there was a spirit encased within her emaciated body... a soul who was lost, who was searching for a home and the people who had loved her.

It was a pity he couldn't paint the rune marks on the floor to test her, but he doubted she would walk voluntarily over the magical symbol. For the moment, he would have to rely on his instincts.

"Morgana," Merlin called a little more gently. He wanted to approach her, but was not willing to trust her quite that far. "Morgana, please, listen to me. What is the last thing you remember?"

She lay back against the headboard of her bed, dragging the cover around her, as if it offered her some kind of comfort. "I told you... all of you." A sob broke from her lips. "I awakened by a small lake. I was cold and frightened. There was a man. He called himself Alvarr and he told me he was a Druid."

"Did you recognise this man?" Merlin probed, trying to stem his eagerness. Morgana reminded him of the fey, ready to bolt if pressed too far.

"I don't know. He seemed familiar." Her sigh was dredged up from the bottom of her heart, if she still had a heart. "Should I have known him? But then he asked me to help him attack Camelot, to return magic to Albion. I knew that wasn't possible. Uther would never allow it."

"But Arthur would and he is trying to," Merlin reasoned. "Arthur is not like Uther. He understands that there is light magic to oppose the dark. How does that make you feel?"

Morgana dropped her head into her hands as she considered her answer. When she looked back at Merlin, her pearl like teeth worried her lip. "Good, I think. I know Uther had his reasons for abhorring sorcery, but..." She wrung her hands. "But, Merlin, nothing could have justified killing all those people, some of whom had to be innocent."

Merlin stepped backwards, until he could rest his shoulders against the door, choosing to put some distance between them, and have a fast escape route. This woman... this witch was weaving an enchantment around him, yet he had the uneasy notion that she was not using magic, didn't even know she had magic. He had to remind himself that Morgana had been just as bloodthirsty as Uther in pursuing her goals.

He shrugged off his anxiety and continued his cross-examination. "Can you remember anything else? Something from before you woke up at the lake?"

Curling up on the bed like a forlorn child, Morgana shrugged again. "Only vague pictures running through my mind, but I cannot seem to grasp them." She stilled again, then turned her lovely, sad face to the man she saw as her friend. "Arthur said I was insane. Perhaps he is right."

Ignoring her latter statements, because the jury was still out on that assumption, he went on. "Tell me about these pictures you see. You don't have to be precise."

Another silence fell over the dreary room, broken only by the occasional sob from Morgana. Finally, she smiled. "Arthur, giving a speech to some villagers. I think we four were all there. You, me, Gwen and Arthur. The village had been attacked by marauders, and we went to help. It seemed a hopeless cause; these villagers weren't trained to fight bandits, yet Arthur inspired them to believe in themselves... and I think we won. I was proud of him that day. But it might only have been a dream," she finished listlessly.

"No, it wasn't a dream. It did happen and we did win, thanks to Arthur." Until such time as he learned more about Morgana, he wasn't going to admit to having magic. "Is there anything more recent you remember?"

"I don't know. I just see flashes, and I don't know which chronological order they come in." She gazed at Merlin, tears still blurring her sight. "What else can I tell you?"

"Anything. Just say the first thing that pops into your mind."

"I have a strong memory of being alone and scared in the citadel. Everyone fell asleep... everyone but me. Then you and Arthur came home... and there were these stone knights, but they moved. It was so strange. They fought you and Arthur." Morgana violently shook her head, trying to rid her mind of the images that played behind her eyes. "Which proves I must be mad. Statues do not walk about and give battle."

"Indulge me here, Morgana. What else do you remember from that time?"

Once again, Morgana hid her face. "I don't know. I can't remember. Maybe if I tried another memory?"

"I don't think that's a good idea. You were the one who brought this incident up," Merlin prompted sternly. "I think there's a reason why that particular memory is coming back to you."

"But it isn't... not really. I can almost recall, but then the fog swirls back into my mind, and it's only conjecture."

At last, Merlin left his safe haven by the door, crossing the room to sit by her side, tentatively taking her hand. "I'm here. I won't let anything bad happen to you, but you must relive what you know," he said encouragingly, surprising himself with how sanguine he felt towards this woman who had committed such evil acts. Still, for now, he could find no malice in her.

Folding her legs beneath her, Morgana moved closer to Merlin, squeezing his fingers and smiling shyly. Regardless of what she had said to Arthur earlier, she knew Merlin was not a threat. Everyone trusted Merlin.

She'd heard the town's folk and the castle guards saying he was a sorcerer, which was hard to believe. However, even if it were true, she didn't fear him as she had Alvarr. He might have magic, but Merlin would have good magic.

That belief, too, left her feeling bewildered. What did she know about sorcery?

"Morgana, do you recall anything else?" Merlin interrupted her thoughts, beginning to sound a little impatient.

Then, suddenly, she was afraid. If she had nothing to say, perhaps he would leave her, and she didn't want to be left alone with her thoughts and nightmares. "I'm not sure they are real," she said, her voice husky through lack of use.

"Let me be the judge of that." Merlin returned the squeeze of her hands, his eyes shining with as much warmth as he could muster.

"I remember a woman." Morgana frowned, but whether from concentration or dislike of the woman, neither Morgana nor Merlin could be sure. "She was beautiful... blonde like Arthur. I felt I knew her... Did I?"

"Yes," he answered with a single word, choosing not to prompt Morgana nor give away any clues.

"But how? I don't think she lived in Camelot."

Merlin relented a little. "She visited once."

Morgana pounced. "I remember that! She challenged Arthur and they fought." Her eyes roamed around her cell, though her sight was far away in time, focused on the sunlit tilting yard outside the castle. "She could have killed him, but she didn't!" Morgana grabbed both of Merlin's hands. "So she can't be a bad person, Merlin. She can't!"

"That's debatable." Caught off guard, Merlin''s true feelings slipped out, and he noticed Morgana searching his face in puzzlement. Perhaps he needed to give her some information, but he employed Kilgarrah's tactics of talking in riddles. "Sometimes good people do bad things by mistake, or they have no other choice; other times bad people do good things for a particular reason, or to misdirect. The difficult part is trying to distinguish between the two."

"Which of these people was she?" But Morgana didn't wait for an answer as another memory tumbled from her lips. "Morgause left me a gift, a bracelet."

"Morgause?" Merlin questioned, his magical senses, at once, stirring into life. She'd plucked that same name out of the air before in Arthur's chambers, yet no one had mentioned it. Were Morgana's memories returning, or was her memory loss purely a ploy?

"She told me it was a healing bracelet and if I wore it my nightmares would cease... but could she have enchanted me? Maybe that's why I have amnesia."

Merlin's eyebrows rose, considering this unexpected point of view. He supposed it was possible, but Morgause had died long ago, and Morgana had continued on her killing spree, had, in fact, increased her maniacal attacks. Surely it wasn't possible for a sorcerer to control an apostle from beyond the veil for so long, no matter how powerful.

"Was she a sorcerer, Merlin?"

"She was." Merlin, again, turned cagey. This mental sparring was every bit as difficult and filled with jeopardy as Arthur's sword fighting. "What else have you remembered about the day all Camelot fell asleep except you, when the Knights of Medhir attacked the citadel?"

"Morgause was there, wasn't she?"

"I don't know. You tell me."

"Before the sickness started, I mean. I got this message to meet her in The Darkling Woods. I went. I don't know why, but I did." Morgana stood up and walked to beneath the high window, watching as the moon floated from behind the clouds and was framed in the stained-glass. "I felt drawn." She turned slowly, deep in thought.

Those were very similar to the words Guinevere had repeated to Arthur after she'd betrayed him with Lancelot, but because of Gwen's goodness and loyalty, Merlin had never doubted she'd been enchanted. Was it possible he'd been prejudiced when judging Morgana because of Kilgarrah's warnings? Had the Great Dragon's prophecies been self-fulfilling?

But Morgana was talking once more, and he needed to concentrate. Looking up, he saw her silvered by the moonlight. Someone had given her a clean gown of emerald silk, the colour of her eyes, and Merlin thought she had never looked more beautiful... or more dangerous.

"She asked me what I thought about Uther, and I told her I hated him. But I didn't... not wholeheartedly. How could I? He'd looked after me, had cared for me since my father died. Still, to the depths of my soul, I despised Uther for what he did to people with magic... but some of them were evil... weren't they?"

"Some, but many were innocent. You had every reason to condemn his behaviour. I despised his persecution of people with magic as much as you, but I could never have turned against my friends."

Morgana was nervously pleating the long sleeves of her gown, over and over. "Is that what you think I did, Merlin?"

"When Arthur and I arrived back in Camelot, you were the only one who was immune to the sleeping sickness. Even Arthur and I began to sicken."

"I remember now... and Arthur was so brave. He told us to cut up blankets to make a rope so we could lower Uther to the courtyard below." For the first time since this conversation had begun, Morgana's green eyes shone with animation. "Then he went to face those terrible statues alone, though the disease was spreading through his body. I was so afraid he would be killed."

Merlin didn't doubt Morgana's statement... not then nor now. Yet he couldn't allow himself to sympathise with her.

"Did you never wonder why you were the only one unaffected?" Merlin probed again, desperation edging his voice. He was tiring, and if Morgana was acting, he had to trick her into betraying herself... and fast.

"I've been asking myself that very question over and over, Merlin, and I've reached the conclusion that it had to be Morgause. She must have assumed I would help her kill Uther. I can't remember clearly, but perhaps I gave her that idea. I was so enraged by him... he'd had me locked up for trying to defend magic... and you know how headstrong I can be." Morgana stilled as her hands went to either side of her head, pressing on her temples. "Think, Morgana!" she berated herself. "Think! You have to remember everything."

High above the citadel, clouds drove in, blanking out the moon. There was a smell of ozone in the air, warning Merlin of a coming thunder storm. He doubted the balcony could be utilised for tomorrow's council meeting; Arthur and he would have to find another place for the ordinary people of Camelot who wished to attend the debate. No, strike that. It was already tomorrow, and he really ought to get some sleep.

The torch by the door flickered, and Merlin felt his exhaustion wearing him down. He should not have come tonight. Once more, Morgana had proved she was a match for him... her darkness against his light, yet he had hoped to find out whether she was still to be feared, or a spent force. Regretfully, he had to admit he was no closer to divining the truth.

"Morgana," he spoke into the gathering gloom. "Trouble yourself no more tonight. Dawn will soon be upon us, so I will leave you to your rest. We will talk another time." He walked to the door and rapped upon its iron studded timbers.

"Don't go!" Morgana reached a shaking hand out to him. "I see another image from that night in the forest. Morgause's eyes flashed gold and I collapsed into her arms. She laid me on the ground, and it was is if I was sleeping... but not. I could hear her, repeating these words in a language I didn't understand. As she walked around me, she drew a circle with her staff. She did enchant me!"

"In a manner of speaking," Merlin owned grudgingly. "Such a powerful spell needs a living conduit to maintain its purpose."

Morgana looked horror stricken, while an echo of the girl she once had been flashed across her face. "She used me!"

But Merlin couldn't let himself believe... not without more proof. He had always considered Morgana a willing participant in Morgause's schemes. From beyond the door, he heard the guards attempting to fiddle the key into the rusty lock and willed them to hurry. He vaguely sensed Morgana taking a step towards him.

"And that is why you poisoned me?" Her voice was low, yet, strangely, filled with sorrow rather than anger. "You left me to Morgause."

In a split second, Merlin's head twisted to face Morgana, his stricken eyes locked on her gaze, but he found no condemnation within her wide-eyed stare.

"You remembered that?"

Morgana wrapped her arms around her body, trying to hold herself together. "Only just now, but it's true?"

"Yes. I'm not proud of my actions," he admitted with regret, yet his thin shoulders straightened. "But I had to save Camelot, and I didn't know what else to do. Besides, I thought you'd chosen Morgause."

With relief, Merlin heard the door open, but before he hurried outside, he spoke again.

"I'm sorry for what I did... truly, but it doesn't change what has happened since. You say you don't remember the terrible things you did, but I'm not sure any of us believe that."

Merlin shook his head sadly as he left, his mind swirling with conflicting emotions. Could Morgana have been a simple pawn of Morgause? Her treacherous behaviour in the intervening years definitely suggested otherwise... but back then, was there a chance he could have returned her loyalties to Camelot? Not to Uther, but perhaps to Arthur.

With a determined lift of his chin, he sought to free himself of these ambiguous thoughts. What was done was done, and not even the great Merlin Emrys could change the past... but it was the future that worried him. His eyes glowed gold as he reinforced Iseldir's spell, then he went to find his bed, hoping he would get a few hours sleep. As Gwen would tell him... worry was not a good counsel.

That is it for this week. I hope you had as much pleasure reading this part as I had while writing it. But, I'm sorry, I'm keeping Morgana's fate to myself for some time.

As I am a carer for my husband, I am going away on a respite break next week, so I'm not sure whether I will have internet access or not. However, if do miss my Friday posting schedule, I will post as soon as I return.