Title: Drowning In You

Rating: T

Pairing: Arthur/Morgana.

Summary: Someone is drowning young women in Camelot. With no motive and no suspects, Morgana must work out who the murderer is before she becomes the next victim…

"I need you to look at this and tell me what you think."

Gaius took the leather bound book from Morgana's hands silently, a single eyebrow raised in question.

"Grimacre's Folktales?" He ran his fingers over the raised leathering of the title, then opened the book to where Morgana had marked it with a scrap of silk and began to read, muttering underneath his breath every so often.

Merlin peered over his shoulder.

"So that's why you wanted to know if I believed in naiads then. Not just curiosity after all." Merlin gestured triumphantly. "I thought it was odd at the time but I didn't want to say anything. Now I know-"

"Merlin." Gaius' glaring gaze fixed on his young apprentice. "Do be quiet. I am trying to read and your blathering is not only irksome, it is interrupting my concentration."

"Sorry. I won't disturb you. Promise."

He began to unnecessarily rearrange a collection of ointments on a nearby side table, knocked over a pot full of jellied bat's livers, slipped in the gunk and reached out for the nearest thing to stop himself falling over.

Unfortunately that was Gaius.

"Merlin!"

"Sorry!"

"You will be," muttered the older man as he picked himself up from the floor, his back smeared thickly with the jelly from the bats. He grimaced, and wiped a handful of goo onto the back of a piece of dirty cloth, hanging from one of the shelves.

"Apprentices," he muttered, as Merlin began to sheepishly tidy up the mess he'd made. "More trouble than they're worth."

He turned back to the book still resting on the table and then up to Morgana who'd been hiding a smile.

"So you think a water sprite killed those two women?"

"I know what I think," she replied. "I want to know what you think."

Gaius sighed and steepled his fingers together seriously. "Claiming that these murders are the work of magical agents is not only a serious accusation, but will not please the King in the slightest. But," he continued, holding up a finger as Morgana began to protest, "that does not mean that it should not be considered." He closed the pages and handed the book back to her. "I think that there is a great possibility that you could be right. On the other hand, there is no conclusive evidence that these women are being killed by water demons."

"I know that." Morgana clutched the book closer. "What do you think I should do?"

"You should nothing," Gaius answered pointedly. "The king's knights are keeping watch over the lake and will report any suspicious activity. Merlin and I will look into the matter, and see if we can discern whether the crimes are magical in nature. Having examined the bodies in detail, at the moment I can see no indications to say that they are." He sighed again. "Then again, I have seen no indications to say that they are not."

"But surely there must be something I can do?"

Gaius shook his head gravely. "I think it would be best if you were to not involve yourself, my lady. If what you think is true, you could be putting yourself in grave danger."

"Of course, I defer to your judgement," Morgana replied innocently.

Gaius fixed her with the look he normally only reserved for Merlin. "I am not Uther, Morgana. Mind that you actually listen to me."

She had the grace to blush.

"My lady, these arrived for you this afternoon."

Morgana smiled delightedly, put the book down on a side table and reached for the bouquet of blushing hyacinths and crimson and ivory tulips her maid offered her.

"Do you know who they're from?"

"Prince Arthur, with his deepest and most sincere apologies."

Morgana's head rose sharply from where she had been inhaling the sweet scent. She shoved the flowers unceremoniously back into Gwen's arms. "You have them," she commanded imperiously. "I'm allergic."

"But my lady..."

Morgana pressed her hands to her nose, pretended to sneeze violently and then shooed her maid out.

"Take them with you, Gwen. Now. Otherwise I'm going to be sneezing all day. And if anymore flowers arrive from Arthur you can take those home with you too."

Gwen hesitated in the corridor. "And if any arrive which are not from the prince?"

"Then my allergy will most likely disappear if they were to stay," Morgana smiled wryly.

She managed to avoid seeing Arthur for the rest of the day, taking her supper in her room, (claiming a migraine) and when Monday morning rolled round she quietly slipped out with the dawn bells down the castle corridors. She began to head in the direction of Gaius' quarters, knowing the prince would never think of looking for her in the medical man's chambers. Gaius would let her stay with few questions asked, which was ideal, considering Morgana didn't feel inclined to answer many.

The gentle strains of someone playing a lute very adeptly stopped her as she walked past a corridor. Intrigued, Morgana wandered down the hallway, pausing briefly at the doorway of the music room. It wasn't a room she spent any time in and she cast her gaze curiously over the high ceiling and bare walls, various instruments polished and gleaming on the tables that ringed the room.

And there was Thaniel, sprawled in a chair, a lute in his lap, his long, elegant fingers running up and down the strings, caressing the instrument and coaxing beautiful sounds from it. He looked up at her entrance, but didn't stop playing, changing the tempo down until it was a light springing piece, like the babbling of a brook over smooth pebbles.

"Hello," he said brightly. "Migraine gone?"

"Oh. Yes," she stumbled, remembering her earlier excuse. "I'm feeling much better thank you."

"Good." Thaniel smiled at her in a way that she wasn't sure she was entirely comfortable with. It was a little too warm, a little too friendly. She changed the subject.

"I didn't realise you could play."

"Not many do," he admitted. "Don't tell Bridget, for pity's sake, she'll have me playing every hour of the day so she can dance."

That made Morgana smile. "I swear never to tell your sister." She crossed her heart playfully and then leant against one of the tables. "I don't remember you having much interest in music when we children. That was always Bridget's passion." Morgana paused, and her smile turned knowing. "What was her name?"

"Marianne," he replied wryly. "She and her father were travelling musicians. He sang. She played the lute. I fell in love."

"Ah, the old story." Morgana mocked him gently. "Don't tell me- you asked her for lessons. She taught you how to play chords, you paid her in kisses. You learnt scales; she was quietly and ruthlessly seduced after four lessons."

"That sounds like something Prince Arthur would do."

"Three years ago. She was a flautist. Ruth, I think she was called. I lose track of names after a while," Morgana shrugged. "So how many lessons did you wait before you seduced the innocent Marianne?"

"Five."

"One more than Arthur. You're obviously much more patient. Or he has a better seduction technique."

"Perhaps you'd like to compare them?"

To her credit she didn't blush, though the look he sent her made her toes curl. She swallowed.

"So what happened?"

Thaniel's fingers suddenly snagged on the lute string and the music died. "We came from different social circles. Father would never have let us marry. We both knew it was doomed."

"If you love someone, nothing should stop you being with them."

His eyes burned strangely and Morgana had to look away.

"Thank you."

He stroked the lute gently in the silence that followed and then offered it to her. "Would you like me to teach you?"

"Thank you," she replied graciously, "but you'll remember Mother hired tutors for me when I was little and it was an unmitigated disaster. I have no talent for music."

"Then let me give you a gift." He sat up and reached into the cloth bag at the foot of his chair, before drawing out a long thin parcel, wrapped in green silk and leather. He walked over and proffered it to her.

Quizzically she unwrapped it, peeling away the bindings. A gasp escaped her.

"Do you like it?"

There, beautifully bright and deadly was the dagger from her vision.

"I can't accept this." She shoved it back into the sheath and tried to give it back to him. "Though I'm grateful you thought to buy me a present."

"Please, for your own protection." He shook his head. "No matter the knights that guard this castle nowhere is safe. I would feel better if I knew you had something to defend yourself with. Especially now another woman is dead."

She looked up sharply. "How do you?-"

"Your servants aren't as discreet as you would wish."

Still she hesitated.

He closed his hand over hers, curling her fingers over the sheath. His thumb brushed over her knuckles. "Morgana, I insist. Think of it as an apology for throwing your doll over the cliff all those years ago." He grinned. "Besides I thought you liked shiny, sharp things."

"Yes, when I'm beating Arthur with one." He slowly withdrew his hand from hers and reluctantly she took the dagger, slipping it into the belt at her waist. She nibbled her lip. "Thank you."

Thaniel shrugged and wandered back over to his chair. "You're welcome." He picked up his lute and began to play a different piece, the notes sultry and warm, like a balmy summer's day.

Morgana fiddled with the dagger, wondering how to extricate herself from the situation. "I should go. I'm interrupting you."

"As you wish."

She turned at the doorway. "It was a pleasure to have heard you play. You do have a gift."

His eyes never left hers. "The pleasure was all mine."

She swallowed and left before she did something stupid.

Later, sat at her dressing table she toyed with the dagger restlessly, wandering what to do with it. Now she had it, perhaps she could prevent the mysterious woman in her vision from claiming it. On the other hand, the very fact that she had it meant that her vision was coming closer and closer to being a reality.

There was a knock at the door.

Heart pounding, she hurriedly slipped the dagger into a drawer, before locking it and pocketing the key.

"Come in."

Gwen wandered in, the smile on her face puckering to a frown. "Morgana? Are you alright? You look a bit flushed." She pressed her palm to Morgana's forehead. "Are you sure you're feeling well?"

Morgana waved her worries away. "I'm fine Gwen, just a little warm. Was there something you wanted?"

"Uther requests your presence in the Great Hall. He's hearing grievances."

"I'll be along in a minute."

She waited until Gwen had left before unlocking the drawer, retrieving the dagger, and shimmying under the bed. Pulling back the stone she dropped it into the hole along with the book, then firmly placed the tile back across.

Now it was secret. Now it was safe.

Surely there it could do no harm.

"I did it! I killed her sire! Killed her with my own bare hands I did. It was easy, like breaking the neck of a rabbit. Pop! And off it came."

Uther motioned to his knights. "Take him away, and someone see to him." As the raving old man was dragged from the hall, still miming dislocating the vertebrae of small mammals, the king wearily turned to the man stood beside him.

"Gaius?"

The physician shook his head. "The man is a lunatic sire. He's well known in the village. Harmless enough but when he gets ideas in his head." Gaius shrugged helplessly. "Last month there was a wedding and he spent most of the time thinking he was the bride."

Uther sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. "Are we any closer to finding out who the man might be who has committed this crime?"

"Well, I do have some news."

Morgana looked up from where she was scanning over the document of complaints. "Do you know who it is?"

"No." Gaius shook his head. "But the bruises on both bodies are identical. They're all small with deep fingernail indentations indicating the murderer has small hands and long nails. Sire, the person killing these women." He took a deep breath. "I believe it's a woman."

"Morgana. I think I'm dying."

Morgana tried not to smile. "Bri, you're not dying. You've just got a very bad cold, which you've had for five days. Coincidentally so has Sir Bedivere. I wonder who could possibly have given him that?"

Bridget blew her nose loudly. "I'm sure I have no idea," she replied innocently, though the effect was somewhat lost as she could no long pronounce her d's. "Sir Bedivere should think himself lucky if all he has is a cold. He has no idea the agonies I'm suffering."

Morgana eyed the comfortable, fluffy double bed Bridget was propped up in, surrounded by mounds of fresh, juicy fruit and brightly coloured, sweet scented flowers.

"You're right; you do look like you're suffering." She raised an eyebrow. "Does that window look out onto the training fields?"

Bridget didn't even blink. "Really? I had no idea."

"Bri."

"What? You wouldn't deny a dying woman her last chance to look upon half naked men now would you?"

"What about Sir Bedivere?"

"He can look at them as well if he likes."

Morgana frowned.

"Oh, don't be such a stick in the mud, Morgana. What Sir Bedivere doesn't know can't hurt him. And it would be almost criminal if no-one was there to see Sir Gaheris oil slicked and wrestling with the equally impressive Sir Laherin. Or Sir Alowys. And then there's Sir Thenler..."

"Just how many knights are you watching?"

"Well it would just be bad manners to show favouritism. So I've decided the only way to be fair is to-"

"Lust after all of them?"

"Now you sound like Father Markus. 'Lust is a sin, my children. The devil tempts us with the fruits of the flesh but we should beware fornication! Fornication and adultery!'"

"Well at least you were listening on Sunday. I suppose that's something."

"Of course I was listening. Unlike you and Gwen. I saw you almost falling asleep in the pew. What kept you up so late?"

Morgana shifted uncomfortably. "Oh you know. It was a big party you threw and then Gwen and I stayed up late talking into the early hours."

"So it was nothing to do with that other woman they found then?"

Morgana rolled her eyes. "Does everyone know?"

"She was called Katherine Swanson. Recently widowed with two small boys who've gone to live with their uncle now." Bridget paused for breath and then explained. "Your servants like to talk."

"That's just what your brother said."

"You've been talking with Thaniel?"

"Yes, in the music room." Too late she realised her mistake. "I meant banqueting hall." She nodded firmly. "Slip of the tongue. Mind thinks one thing, mouth says another."

"Stop babbling Morgana, I already know all about Thaniel's playing. I've known for months. He thinks he's keeping it secret." She laughed. "He should know better."

Morgan raised an eyebrow. "But you haven't told him you know?"

"No. I'm waiting for the right moment to spring it on him. Then make him play constantly until he makes up for not telling me about his little talent."

"Bri, you are cruel."

"I know…fun isn't it?" She toyed innocently with the bed cover. "Did he give you your present?"

Morgana couldn't help but laugh. "Do you know everything?"

"He asked me what I thought you'd like. I told him anything that could stop a man dead in his tracks. I meant a fabulously seductive dress. He took me literally and went for weapons." Bridget frowned at Morgana's expression. "I'm joking darling, I did suggest a dagger. I thought you'd be bored of dresses and jewellery by now, and I know how much you enjoyed dressing up as a knight when we were little."

Something in Morgana's mind twinged at her words. "So you chose the dagger then?"

"Oh no, Thaniel picked it. I just advised." Seeing the look on Morgana's face she patted her hand. "What's wrong? Don't you like it?"

"Yes of course. It's lovely."

Morgana pasted on a smile and let Bridget chatter on, grateful when Gaius eventually arrived to administer more medicine and she could escape without appearing rude.

Back in her room she stared through her bed as though she could see the book and the dagger underneath.

Perhaps, she thought, she ought to bury it far away- was that safer than keeping it under her bed? Could the unknown woman in her dream find the dagger if she buried it? Was that more likely than her knowing of the hiding space beneath the bed?

Arthur knew of the space, and her nursemaid but she had died years ago…and of course Bridget knew…

I believe it's a woman

Morgana squashed the stray thought instantly.

But merely to placate the prickling sense of unease she felt she took the dagger out from under the bed, slipped it up her sleeve and made her way out of the castle into the back gardens, to the very edges where the huge hedged maze grew, tangled and unkempt with wild rose bushes threading through it. The gardeners had given up on it years ago, too big and too unruly for them to tame.

Now only she and the birds ever came here.

Morgana stepped into the cool darkness of the maze, the hedges swallowing the sunlight, and turned left. Thorns snagged her sleeves as though the maze was embracing her and didn't want to let her go. She turned right, left, left, then right again, her steps sure and unfaltering- this path memorized from her childhood summers here at the castle, when Gorlois had brought her. When she'd tired of beating Arthur and his friends at their own games and she was bored playing families with the village girls she'd wander down to the maze and walk the paths that were then clear of weeds and wildlife.

And it was here that she and Arthur had…

Suddenly she was in the centre.

There was the old damson tree in the middle, its leaves just starting to unfurl, trunk scored with her name and Arthur's beside it. She ignored the large heart encircling it and knelt down before the tree. With her hands she dug away the dirt from beneath an exposed root, thrusting the dagger down into the narrow space between rock and root, till it was merely a glimmer in the earth. Piling soil back over, she rolled a few large stones over and satisfied it was well and truly buried she smiled.

Now only she knew where it was. Vision averted.

She'd just stood up and finished wiping dirt from her hands when a voice came from behind her.

"I thought I might find you here."

She stiffened.

When she said nothing, Arthur continued. "You always come here when you're upset."

"Excuse me." She made to move past him. His arm against the hedge blocked her path.

"Morgana, this has to stop," he said firmly. "You can't keep avoiding me."

"Let me leave."

"You know I'm sorry for what I said."

"Let. Me. Leave."

"Morgana, what more can I do to say I'm sorry? I try to apologise and you ignore me, I send you flowers- you give them to Gwen." A shadow of a smile graced his lips. "Her room's beginning to resemble a meadow," he joked.

She remained stubbornly silent, staring somewhere over his shoulder.

His humour drained away and instead he sighed, defeated in the face of her coldness. "I was jealous."

The admission, painfully given, made her look at him, though her lips still stayed pressed firmly together.

"You're not going to make this easy are you?" He scrubbed a hand through his hair and the next words tumbled out altogether, his face flushed with the excruciating task of admitting his feelings. "I was jealous of Thaniel. I thought that I'd lost you and it killed me to think that you'd be marrying him…" instead of me hung in the air. "I know it's no excuse-"

"You're right," she interrupted, her voice hard, though her face had softened slightly at his words. "You don't treat people you care about like that."

"I know and I'm sorry. Just tell me what I can do to make it up to you."

"I don't know."

"Morgana, please," and he hated that she had reduced him to begging.

She shook her head. "I need time."

"I will make this right." He caught her hand as she began to brush past him. He pressed his fingers to hers solemnly. "I swear it."

"Don't make more promises you can't keep." Her eyes swept over the tree standing silently in the middle, watching them. "Especially here."

His gaze fell on their names, the heart he'd carved with his own knife in his adolescence.

"Morgana…"

But she'd already gone.

Another day passed, and still the prickling sense of unease at the back of her head had grown stronger and stronger.

Unable to concentrate on anything, she'd resorted to pacing up and down her room, fingers tapping anxiously against her thigh, her footsteps measured to the thin beat of disquiet in the corner of her mind.

Surely she had done everything she could? Gaius and Merlin had come up with nothing in their investigation so far to prove it was anything other than a mortal killer, but the agitation would not leave.

She was just contemplating pulling out the book again and scouring it for any further clues when there was a knock at the door.

Without waiting for a response Arthur strode in, followed by an apologetic looking Merlin.

"It's Bridget. Bridget's the one killing the women."

There was a beat of silence.

Morgana crossed her arms. "That's the worst attempt at an apology I have ever heard."

"Just hear me out." Arthur began to tick his fingers off. "Bridget arrives, the first dead body appears. She goes out to town to collect things for the party or so she says; the next day another body appears. Now she's ill and nobody has died. Don't you think that's a little suspicious?"

"Have you gone completely mad?" Morgana snapped. "It's pure coincidence. Bridget wouldn't hurt a soul."

"She's part ogre, for goodness sake," Arthur retorted. "She's strong enough to do it."

"Sorry?" Merlin's eyebrows had disappeared into his hairline. "She's part what?"

"Ogre."

Morgana shot Arthur a nasty look. "And we're not supposed to speak of it."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "It's hardly a secret. Bridget's ancestors were ogres on her mother's side. Her great, great, great uncle or something like that fell in love with one. Accidentally, I think. There were some rumours of a spell or something. At any rate, they ended up consummating it-"

"Thanks for that image," Merlin muttered.

"-before the spell was broken and hey presto half human half troll baby twelve months later."

"Twelve?"

Arthur shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't know, different gestation period. Ask your mother. Or Morgana."

"Thanks," she said dryly. "Anyway, that's why Bridget is so strong, but doesn't have the urge to live in a bog and eat worms." She folded her arms. "Fine, lets say she did kill them. You still have no motive."

Arthur scrubbed a hand through his hair. "I know."

"I'm surprised," said Morgana archly. "I would have thought you'd have come up with a suitably fantastic reason why she wanted to drown young women. You seem so set on her being the murderer."

Arthur let out a deep sigh. "It was just a hypothesis. I do like her you know."

"Really? You have a funny way of showing it."

"Just because she's your friend, doesn't automatically mean I want her to be a serial killer."

Morgana snorted. "That's what you seem to be implying."

"I'm just saying there are a lot of coincidences involved."

"But someone was with Bridget every time she left the castle," cut in Merlin, before the argument escalated.

"Actually," Morgana admitted, "that's not quite true. She's left plenty of times on her own. Occasionally I went with her or Gwen. And of course some of the knights…"

"You mean knights like Sir Bedivere, who're wrapped round her little finger," Arthur pointed out. "It wouldn't have taken much to convince them she needed to be alone for a while, or to slip off unnoticed."

Another knock at the door cut off Morgana's reply. An auburn head poked itself round the door.

"Bridget!"

"Speak of the devil."

Morgana trod sharply on Arthur's foot. She turned to her friend and smiled weakly.

"You're feeling better then?"

Bridget nodded enthusiastically. "Shopping is a remedy to cure all ills."

"Shopping?" Said Arthur warily.

"I was talking to one of your servant girls and apparently there's a fayre here on Monday." Bridget smiled brightly and latched onto Arthur's arm. "We could all go together!"

"It's such a terrible shame I'm busy that day," Arthur replied, discreetly trying to prise his arm out of Bridget's grip. "Aren't I, Merlin?"

Startled the young man slipped against the bedpost that was propping him up. "Ye-yes! That's right. Busy doing…" he fumbled. "Many important princely things like um…bowing and…wearing a crown?"

Bridget smirked. "Sounds like a hectic schedule. Watch you don't tire yourself out." She let go of his arm, and headed to the door. "I'll see you outside the castle gates after the morning bells have struck." Bridget smiled sunnily, before disappearing back out of the room.

Merlin rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "I'll just go put myself in the stocks then, shall I?"

Arthur just looked at him.

Merlin coughed and began to back away. "Right."

"Oh and Merlin?"

"Sire?" He looked up hopefully.

"Make sure the villagers have really, really rotten fruit and vegetables."

As soon as the door had closed, Morgana turned to Arthur disapprovingly.

"Don't look at me like that. He's got me in this mess. Now I have to endure a day of…girl stuff," he said indignantly. "I've got better things to be doing then watching you lot go gaga over a bolt of cloth."

"Yes," said Morgana, expressionless. "We heard. You forced Merlin to explain."

The prince huffed. "Alright I'll go and rescue him in a minute. Honestly, can't even punish your own servants these days without someone making a fuss."

"Poor little prince," Morgana rolled her eyes. "After that display, do you still think Bridget's a serial killer?"

Arthur shrugged. "Either way she's a pain in my ars-"

Morgana trod on his foot again.

"Close your eyes and open your mouth."

Morgana raised an eyebrow questioningly, but did as she was bid. Something smooth and sweet entered her mouth and she bit down hard as Thaniel pressed a chocolate covered strawberry to her lips, the juices spilling over. Her eyes flickered open and she caught the tip of his finger with her lips as her mouth closed.

Arthur clenched his fists.

"Having fun sire?" Merlin beamed as he bounced over to him. "Look what I've bought!" He held up a box of gingerbread. "Biscuits shaped like people!"

"Merlin," said Arthur between gritted teeth. "Do I look like I care?"

"Well," said Merlin hesitantly, "actually you look rather grouchy. And from your tone of voice I'd suggest that you were veering from unhappy to upset." He spotted Morgana and Thaniel at the food sellers stall. "Ah. Is it because the love of your life is being fed sugary sweets by your arch rival?"

"Merlin."

"Shutting up."

Gwen came up beside them, a basket on one arm, and a worried expression on her face. "Has anyone seen Lady Bridget? I can't find her anywhere."

"No." A sudden gleam came into Arthur's eye and he shoved Merlin forwards. "Merlin, why don't you go over there and tell them Bridget's gone. I'm sure Lord Thaniel would want to know his sister's missing."

Merlin shared a look with Gwen but did as he was bid. He wandered over and coughed awkwardly, just as Thaniel prepared to offer Morgana sugared almonds. "Prince Arthur would like me to inform you that your sister is missing."

Thaniel looked over to where Arthur was nonchalantly leaning against a market table. His eyes narrowed.

"She could be anywhere." Morgana bit her lip worriedly. "Merlin, go over there with Thaniel and see if you can find her. I'll take Gwen and retrace our steps."

She'd just begun to move back towards the rest of the group when Bridget appeared suddenly from a side alley.

"Bridget!" Morgana hugged her in relief. "There you are. Where did you disappear off to?"

"I got lost in the crowd," she replied flustered. "This place is bigger than you think."

Morgana linked arms with her. "Come on, why don't you come round with me? I know this perfect little stall, which you'd love. You'll be alright, won't you, Thaniel?"

Left with little choice he nodded and the two women walked off, leaving him alone beside the sweetmeats stall.

Merlin wandered over to Arthur. "Well? You're smiling and Lord Thaniel looks like he wants to kill you so I'm pretty sure I can presume that your plan worked."

Arthur smirked. "Perfectly. Welcome to the world of politics."

Merlin shivered at the black look on Thaniel's face and clutched his gingerbread men closer. "I'm not sure I like that world."

The mist was back again, surrounding her thickly till she was shivering with cold as it clung to her skin, as though she had walked into a cloud. It clung to her even as she tried to move forwards towards the glimmering light in the distance.

Suddenly three figures appeared in the light before her, two men leading a dark haired woman through a forest, one man holding a sword in his hand, his chainmail glinting in the sunlight and from his golden hair...

Arthur, she realized with a shock. And there was Merlin, casting wary glances at the woman in between them.

The woman, whose face was obscured.

She tried desperately to see, but the mist caught at Morgana's ankles. She struggled against it, but it held her fast.

And suddenly there was a dagger in the woman's hand. A brief sliver of deadly flashing silver.

She lunged for Arthur's neck.

"No!"

Suddenly the scene shifted and she found herself in Camelot's labyrinth of dungeons, her hands pulled high above her head and chained to the ceiling. She struggled against the bonds but there was no escaping the iron shackles that wrapped around her wrists.

And then she was surrounded by shadowy figures, curling around her, and whispering, harsh guttural noises she could almost understand. She strained against her bonds. Almost…

The group of shadows shifted suddenly.

And there was Bridget.

Bridget, with a sword held deceptively loosely in her hand, the shining, whip thin blade outstretched towards the pale skin of Morgana's neck, where the blood pumped quickly, so close to the surface. Waiting to be spilled.

"Kill them."

Bridget's voice was void of any emotion, her eyes dead.

Morgana shot up in bed, sweating, as the warning bells of the church rang out loud into the night. She slipped out of bed, as frightened calls sounded from the courtyard, flares of light from torches suddenly bursting into light all round the castle.

She opened the door just as Arthur strode past, still buckling his tunic, sword in hand, his hair mussed from sleep.

"Arthur?"

"Go back to bed, Morgana," he warned. "Go back to bed and lock the door."

"What is it? What's happened?"

Arthur's face was grim. "They've found another body."

Please read and review!

Hey guys, so sorry for the delayed update but I've just finished my degree (whoop I got a First!) and I had to graduate, then I moved house and found I have to install the internet. Which won't turn up for at least a week. Sad times :( So I'm uploading this from my parent's house :)

Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter.

Just a quick piece of info: in the language of flowers hyacinths mean 'please forgive me' and red tulips mean 'I love you'. Strangely they didn't seem to have a flower for 'sorry I accused you of being a woman of loose morals, I'm a royal jackass, but I love you and that bloke you like is an idiot.' So I had to make do ;)