Author's notes: For those of you who wanted this story to go on a little longer, I hope you'll be happy. I'll definitely need one more chapter to tie up all the loose ends... well the ones which I'm going to address in this story. Without giving too much away, I will tell you that I won't leave you on the edge of a cliff. This story will have an ending.

Now I have to thank everyone who is reading, following/favouriting and reviewing my story. I know I keep repeating myself, but believe me, I don't take your support for granted. I find reading your reviews very interesting, and you sometimes give me the gem of an idea which I've enjoyed writing into the story. Your feedback and encouragement is just what I need to keep me going when my life gets tough and I find it difficult to write.

Again, I hope I managed to answer each of your reviews, but I cannot answer the guest reviewers. Though I can't let you know personally, I've appreciated your insightful feedback very much.

I don't own Merlin, but I do borrow the characters for my pleasure and I hope yours.

Chapter Thirty-four

The Journey to Avalon

"Gwen, I'm sorry, but if you insist on coming, then you'll do as I say... please, sweetheart," Arthur added, somewhat destroying the effect of his lofty command, as he carried Guinevere down the stairs, emerging into the courtyard of the castle by the side exit. "Just let me fuss over you. It makes me feel better."

"But Gaius and Merlin have checked my wound and, because Merlin used magic, they're both certain I'll heal without any complications." Gwen lifted her gloved hand to caress Arthur's cheek. She'd learned to become independent, increasingly confident in her choices, yet she was warmed by her husband's care. "I've already agreed to ride in the wagon. There's no reason for you to worry."

"You're carrying our baby, Guinevere. I can't help but be anxious that you're making a fairly long journey so soon after you've been injured. You're going to have to get used to me fussing."

"Arthur, you can't fret over me for the next six months. We'll both go insane."

"Will you two stop?" Merlin emerged behind them, leading the guards who were carrying a litter which held an unconscious Morgana. "This trip is going to be unbearable if you continue to bicker like this."

"We're not bickering," Arthur stated, his bottom lip protruding in one of his classic pouts, a clear indication he was unhappy with the situation yet unable to change it.

Merlin's eyes glinted incredulously. "No? It sounded pretty much like it to me. Look, Arthur, you've already given Gwen permission to come with us... against your better judgement, I realise, but you did agree, so don't bore us with recriminations. This journey will be hard enough without listening to your complaints."

A day and a half had passed since Morgana had told them of her travel plans and, though each of them had tried to persuade her she stood a better chance of survival if she stayed safe in Camelot, she remained adamant. This was her final journey and she was determined to take it.

So with heavy hearts, they set about making preparations to ensure her passage was as comfortable as possible. However, it had certainly thrown Arthur and Merlin into confusion when Guinevere woke up and announced she would join them. Merlin understood her reasoning... she'd been with them from the first day he'd arrived in Camelot when he, Arthur, Morgana and Guinevere had begun their long adventure to bring back magic and unite Albion. Only, they hadn't known it then.

The first part of the prophecy had been accomplished, though there was still some way to go to unite Albion. Merlin felt it was for this reason that Arthur had been spared, but perhaps Morgana had played her role and thus she recognised it was time to end her part in the story... for the present.

"Arthur, Merlin's right." Guinevere's words interrupted the warlock's thoughts. "I understand you have reservations, but Gaius gave his permission for me to go... and Merlin and Iseldir are there to care for me as well as Morgana. I promise I'll be good and take all my medicine." She conceded to the latter easily, as the ache in her leg still troubled her. "Please, I wish to say goodbye too. Can't we all try our very best to make this time into a memory we can hold in our hearts forever?" Gwen's eyes strayed to Morgana's sleeping form as the stretcher bearers lifted her onto the base of the large covered wagon which had been converted especially for this pilgrimage to Avalon.

As always, Guinevere's arguments soothed Arthur's irritation, which, it had to be said, stemmed only from stress about Gwen's and the baby's safety, plus worry about what might be happening to his shock troops on the borders of his realm. He was used to being in the thick of the action, sharing the risks with his fighting knights and soldiers. Long range command was very new to him, but Tristan had left at noon the previous day with a score of scouts who would ride hard to join up with Leon's army. Once there, he had promised to send back messengers who would meet up with Arthur on his way to Avalon, letting him know all the details of the campaign and giving him the chance to advise on strategy from a distance.

Guinevere was honest enough to admit she was happy with this state of affairs... it had only been a short time ago when she thought he'd died in battle... but she did understand her husband's frustration and, once again, she smoothed down his golden hair and let her hand trace the line of his cheek and jaw.

Arthur pressed his lips quickly to her fingers before confessing, "You're right, Guinevere and I'm acting like a spoilt child who's lost his favourite toy. This journey should be one to cherish."

Without any more to be said, he passed Guinevere up to the guards in the carriage before jumping up beside her, helping her to rest on one of the thickly feathered pallets which would be the ladies' beds for the time it took the party to reach their destination. As he arranged the many cushions behind her and under her injured leg to make her comfortable, Merlin hoisted himself up to carry out the same task for the unconscious Morgana.

Although Morgana had awakened a number of times since that first night, her periods of consciousness were short and painful, prompting her three healers to sedate her for the first part of her journey. Though ever the headstrong young woman, she'd agreed to take her medicine on the most difficult stages of the long trip.

From across the quadrangle marched Sir Kay followed by Geoffrey, Cedric and Lady Amena. No one had been able to persuade the knight to stay behind, not even an order from The King. Kay had merely stated that if ordered not to accompany the small cavalcade, he would simply follow some distance behind. Since it had been agreed between Gaius, Merlin and Iseldir that Mary Howden should come with them to see to the women's comfort, Arthur had felt unable to resist Kay's entreaty. In some sense he'd been a little relieved, knowing he himself was far from fighting strength and not wishing Merlin to carry the whole responsibility for the party's safety. There could very well be pockets of Saxons out there, and there were certainly brigands still operating in the countryside, even though he and the knights had managed to weed out the majority.

Geoffrey and Cedric bowed their heads and Lady Amena gave a small curtsy when they reached the party by the wagon.

"Don't fear for Camelot, Sire, when you are gone," Cedric said kindly but with some gravitas. "Between myself, Geoffrey and Gaius your peoples' welfare both social and physical will be well taken care of. We have your instructions, and we will send messages by the ravens should anything unexpected occur."

"Thank you, Cedric," Arthur replied with a faint smile and a nod of his head in return. "I have no worries for the city at present, and if word from the army in the west is troubling, then I've every confidence in your combined experience to resist a siege." Arthur's gaze included the elder statesmen of Camelot, his brow darkening at the possibility of his city being attacked once more, however small. "If that's the case, I'll return with the army as soon as I may and, hopefully, with reinforcements from Queen Annis. It's my intention that we defeat King Mark in the border lands and that the threat from Alined's army will disintegrate if he loses his ally. King Rodor has promised to keep a close watch on his border, so you should have plenty of warning should Alined find the courage to assault us."

"We'll do as you wish, Arthur," Geoffrey spoke up. "And we've every faith in your judgement and skills. Camelot will not founder with you as our King."

Once more, Arthur was astounded by Geoffrey's support. He'd always been a loyal courtier to Uther, yet had remained firmly in the background. Arthur could only surmise that Geoffrey hadn't been in total agreement with his father's policies but knew better than to resist them. It spoke a little of self-preservation... and yet hadn't he been guilty of that too? There had been times when he'd questioned his father, but Uther wasn't a man who accepted criticism well... not from his son and definitely not from his council members. It wasn't the style he wanted for his own reign.

"Thank you, Geoffrey. Let's hope Camelot is safe in all our hands and I, at least, have no doubt that you will play your parts."

While The King had been speaking to his counsellors the grooms had brought forward four horses. He, Merlin, Kay and Bryce of Longstead would ride, though Bryce was only going as far on the road to where he would turn north towards his village. Iseldir would travel on the wagon's bench next to the driver while Mary shared the interior with Camelot's ladies, taking care of them on the journey.

It was a small party who were setting out for the Lake of Avalon, and there had been a suggestion that as such they were vulnerable, but Arthur was convinced that with Kay's swordsmanship and Merlin's magic they had enough protection. Besides, he was feeling stronger, so might be able to acquit himself fairly well if they were set upon.

Gaius had appeared in the archway, carrying a large medicine bag and calling Merlin and Arthur to his side.

"All the potions you require are in here," he said, patting the bag. "Arthur, I've packed enough medicine to see you through the journey and back, but if you ride on to join your army, you'll need more." The physician's eyebrow lifted as his chin dipped, showing he wasn't at all happy with that scenario. "You have to let me know if this is the case and I'll send you more supplies. But as your physician, I strongly recommend that you don't go chasing after your men."

Arthur managed a kind smile for the old man, knowing Gaius only chided him out of love and worry. "Gaius, I'm hardly going to ride to battle with Guinvere still recovering and being with child. Barring totally unforeseen circumstances, I'll return with Gwen before I go chasing after my knights."

Gaius laughed ruefully. "I expect that's the best reassurance you can give me. Just promise me you'll take care."

Nodding firmly, Arthur left to give instructions to the commander of his knights, Sir Gilbert, an older, experienced knight who would be left in charge of the security of Camelot. Once The King had gone Gaius turned to Merlin. "There is enough sedation in here to keep Morgana asleep for most of the journey, which is the safest way for her to travel, yet, knowing Morgana, I'm sure she'll make up her own mind about how much of the medicine she'll take. Try to persuade her, but don't force her. Without a miracle, she's not going to survive, so keeping her calm and happy is paramount."

"I agree, and I'll do my best for her," Merlin concurred, his mouth smiling confidently at his mentor, but his eyes showing his grief. "I know she's persecuted Arthur and Camelot these past few years..."

"She's also tried to kill you, Merlin," Gaius reminded him.

Merlin gave a half-hearted grimace. "But I do believe she's changed, Gaius. Her contrition isn't an act."

"I'm sure you're right, my boy. When she threw herself in front of Arthur, she did it without a second thought for her own survival... but Morgana was... is a High Priestess. She has a great deal of power and, as we know, power can corrupt, which is why I'm asking you to be vigilant. I've talked to Iseldir and he agrees with me that you should continue with the wards until you reach Avalon."

"I'm not sure Arthur would be happy knowing that," Merlin pointed out, looking across at his king.

"Arthur is too trusting for his own good," Gaius groaned, his head shaking back and forth. "Underneath that brash exterior, he wants to see the good in everyone, especially his own sister. You have to be cautious for him."

The years slipped away as Merlin's memory took him to a deep cave in Ismere where The Diamair had told him Arthur's Bane was himself. It was as true then as it was now... occasionally Arthur didn't make the best of choices, which was why he needed Merlin. Once Arthur wouldn't admit to that, but now, at least, that had changed which made his task easier.

"I will, Gaius," Merlin assured the man who was like a father to him. "And Gwen is with us. Arthur might have needed some convincing that Gwen is fit enough to travel, but she'll keep him in check."

Merlin had just finished talking when Arthur mounted up, calming his horse with a soft hand when it bridled. "Is everyone ready?" he called out. "We need to get going while the sun is still with us." The King searched the sky where dark clouds were massing in turbulent waves in the west. "Those are storm clouds and I'd like to reach the village of Trym before the rain starts."

Everyone scurried to get in place and the final goodbyes were said before the tiny cavalcade trotted over the drawbridge, heading through the city for western gate. When Gaius and Cedric reached the battlements the royal party was well along the road, disappearing out of view now and then between the trees of the home wood.

"Don't worry, Gaius. I'm sure they'll be fine." Cedric placed a comforting hand on the physician's shoulder. "And they'll be back before too long."

Gaius gave a sad smile, his eyes never leaving the figures in the distance. "True, Cedric. But I believe there is one among them I will never see again. Not so long ago, I wouldn't have minded... yet now... my heart is sore."

The rain drummed on the roof of the barn like stones hurled from a hundred slings, while the wind gusted coldly through the broken shutters and water puddled under the ill-hung door. The old building wasn't much of a shelter but it was the best the impoverished villagers could do and they'd made their sovereign welcome by offering to share their meagre fare.

Arthur was torn between insulting his people by refusing their hospitality or depriving them of their hard earned food. Besides, the travellers had brought their own provisions. In the end they'd compromised by accepting a small cask of the villagers' mead but sharing out the food from Camelot.

The barn wasn't a large structure and hardly in good repair, yet somehow they'd managed to shoehorn the wagon and all of the party inside. Unfortunately, they hadn't quite reached Trym by the time the storm hit, so, for a time, they'd huddled in silence around the fires burning in two braziers, filling their stomachs while trying to warm their cold bones and dry their wet clothes.

Now, the odour of damp wool mixed with the smell of sodden horse-flesh, since the storm was too extreme to tether the horses outside. Strangely, however, the sounds of their mounts methodically chewing their food merging with the crackle of burning logs was comforting. Here within the warm glowing circle of the barn they were safer than they had any right to expect on such a storm battered night. Bryce and the driver had already succumbed to sleep, their backs against a wagon-wheel, their feet stretched towards a fire.

Guinevere leaned tightly against her husband's side, bundled in her cloak and a blanket from the wagon which had both fared better than those exposed to the elements, thanks to the heavy waxed linen covering of the cart. Now that she was warm and replete from one of Merlin's hot stews, she dozed quietly, not even waking fully when Arthur began to talk.

"Will this soaking have harmed Morgana's chances of surviving till we reach Avalon?" he asked Merlin quietly, smoothing his hand over Gwen's arm. "Or Guinevere's recovery, for that matter?"

"I shouldn't think so. They were both fairly dry inside the wagon. We weren't out in the storm long enough for the water to soak through," Merlin answered after due consideration. "To tell the truth, I'm more concerned with your health. You're the one who got wet."

Reinforcing Merlin's worries, Arthur coughed, the ache of it harsh on his face.

"So did you and the rest," he said when he could, waving a hand over the other men, while completely oblivious to the fact that he'd awakened his Guinevere.

"Yes, but none of us have bits of sword lodged in our chest. You need an extra dose of Gaius' remedy," Merlin announced, rummaging through the medicine bag.

"Merlin, I think you delight in..." Arthur barked again, silencing the protest he was about to make. "Delight in torturing me," he finished on a hoarse note, but didn't demur when handed a small bottle of the substance. Instead he drained it down and felt a warming bubble sooth his innards, but whether that was from the potion or the golden sheen he'd spotted in Merlin's and Iseldir's gazes, he had no idea. With a droll smile, he surmised that two warlocks might be better than one, though he wasn't about to admit that. Then they'd never stop coddling him.

A now thoroughly lucid Gwen had no such qualms. "Thank you, Merlin and Iseldir. Between you both Arthur should arrive at Avalon in one piece."

Mary Howden climbed down from the wagon bed, drying her hands and crossing to the circle around the flaring braziers. "Morgana managed to eat a little, but now she's tired... so very tired." Mary stretched her hands to the flames, distractedly searching her fingers for chilblains. Surely it was too early in the year for those. She hoped this storm didn't herald a cold autumn; the harvest wasn't completely gathered in. Mary cleared her throat and turned to the young man who'd once come to Longstead to heal her friends. "Lord Emrys, my lady asks to speak with you."

Again Merlin looked slightly surprised, but he stood upright, stretched his lanky limbs, allowing his blanket to slide from his shoulders before he hurried to the wagon and climbed on board. He could feel Kay's gimlet stare lodged on his back. Clearly the knight had been hoping for a summons.

Once inside, Merlin sat in the chair between the two pallets, keeping silent, watching the shallow rise and fall of Morgana's chest as she breathed. He didn't notice when her eyes opened, but he heard the throaty whisper of his name...

"Merlin?"

"Yes, Morgana," he answered, his voice light, though his heart was heavy. "You have something to tell me?"

A ghost of a smile flickered across her face. "There are many things I could tell you, but I doubt I have the energy or the time."

For a moment, Merlin thought to cozen her with false hope, yet Morgana was too intelligent and worldly wise to dupe. Neither would he insult her so. "Then tell me what you think is most important. Perhaps we'll have time later on the journey for more instructions." He finished with a wry grin.

"I'm not sure I seek to instruct you, Merlin..."

"Come, Morgana. No false modesty. I might be The Emrys, but there is still much you could teach me..."

"And yet I leave that teaching to others." Here she stopped, swallowed hard while her tongue licked her chapped lips.

"Would you like some water?" Merlin asked, all solicitude and when she nodded, he found a flagon and beaker and held her head up while she sipped, his heart aching as some of the water spilled from the corner of her mouth. Very carefully, he blotted her skin dry.

After a second or two she continued, very low, summoning her strength with her indefatigable will. "Thank you." With a slight wave she beckoned him closer and when he came, she seized hold of his hand. "This is important, Merlin... More than you can know. I'll try to speak it all, but stay with me should I fall asleep."

Merlin nodded and waited.

"I won't waste time by talking of these past years... only I'll say that I was wrong. I know that now..."

"You weren't always in the wrong, Morgana. Uther was a tyrant and you were right to challenge him."

"True! But Uther is gone and soon I will be no more." Morgana found the fortitude to lift her hand to warn him to silence. "No, Merlin. Now is not the time for falsity. We both know my time in this world is almost over. I am a Priestess of the Old Religion... and I do not fear to pass beyond the veil." From somewhere, Morgana found the power to speak more strongly. "Besides, I'm bound for Avalon... not a crypt or a pyre. My future in the other world is secure. But it is my brother I fear for..."

"Don't be afraid for him. He's in my care, just as he has always been," Merlin said reassuringly, squeezing her hand.

For the first time, Morgana showed her impatience. "Not in this life, Merlin, but in the other world, where we know you cannot follow him."

Sitting up straighter, the warlock asked urgently, "Have you seen Arthur's future? Should I stop him riding to confront Mark of Cornwall?"

"Peace, Merlin," Morgana said, smiling honestly. "I have no premonition that Arthur will die soon... and if anyone can stop my brother from going to fight they must have more power than I supposed. Arthur is a warrior and even a disabled warrior can be of use on the field of battle. You would do well to remember that."

Merlin grinned back. "I can't argue with you there. So Arthur will triumph over King Mark?"

"Camelot's army will be victorious and Arthur will live to see his child grow. But do not question me about the future. I've said all I intend to on that score... more, if I'm honest." Morgana's eyelids drifted shut, masking the heartache pooling in her eyes. Yet, she needed but a moment to compose herself. "I would've liked to share in that future... Camelot's Golden Age... but it is not for me."

"Morgana..." Yet Merlin's protest died unspoken. He too recognised the truth in her words.

"Thank you for not besetting me with false hope. Come, help me sit up a little," Morgana instructed, waiting patiently as Merlin lifted her slight form and placed pillows behind her shoulders. "Now you must pay heed to what I have to say..."

Morgana's and Merlin's stares locked soul to soul while the stillness stretched out as she summoned her voice again.

"When Arthur's time comes, as it must one day, promise me, Merlin, that you will bring him to The Lake of Avalon. Do not commit his body to the flames or the grave, but send him out across the water to the isle and I will be waiting. I will care for him, Merlin, through the centuries. You have my word. What I could not do for him in life, I will do in death, until he comes again."

The last High Priestess finished speaking and again her eyes closed, but not before Merlin had seen her tears nor managed to stop his own.

Their journey to Avalon continues... I hope you enjoyed the beginning and will appreciate the ending when I and Merlin, Arthur, Guinevere and Morgana get there.

Please let me know what you think so far. I'm praying you like what I've written, but if anyone has any concerns don't be afraid to say so. Hopefully, I'll be on time for posting next Friday, but if the last chapter does take longer, I will post as soon as I'm satisfied.