Hey guys, long time...and no this story has not been abandoned. I sadly have been running into one life block after another, some bad (having to move, computer malfunctioning) some good (a very much appreciated trip!) but I am back now and hopefully so to are the more reliable updates ;)

Here is the second half of the long promised chapter...I apologize in advance (I suck at writing action scenes). Hopefully you still enjoy it. Either way drop be a thread!

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Chapter 17: The Grand Old Duke of York: part 2

-oo—

Harry swallowed his throat feeling suddenly rather parched. The noise of celebration swelled and deafened—the court too far gone in their jovial drinking to remember that as lords and ladies, they were supposed to show some sort of decorum.

Though they were hardly the only ones.

The surprise return of the King's ward had Uther pulling out all stops. The many esteemed guests included, but were not limited to; various neighboring allies, Camelot's richest Lords and Ladies, and the knights who had spent long months in search for Morgana.

Then of course there were the servants necessary to serve such a large guest list—though they hardly counted. It was the last category that Harry fell into; it was also his inclusion in the latter that placed his and his brother's necks at such risk. They had been lucky to have escaped Uther's rage for even having been in the same vicinity as Morgana when she was kidnapped…now though…

Now that she was back and able to tell the King just what happened that fateful day (or at least her version of it—though to be fair, Merlin had threatened her life) he would be lucky to see tomorrow's sunrise. One had to wonder why he was staying when he knew this. Hell, even he wondered why he was still here.

Sometimes he thought he should have been placed in Hufflepuff rather than Gryffindor; he had the damnable thrice cursed loyalty of a badger after all. Considering how Merlin had treated him in the past (even if he had gotten better recently) he knew that he owed his brother nothing. Certainly he shouldn't stay around to somehow try and protect Merlin from the fallout of his previous actions. But he couldn't help it.

He couldn't help it because, despite everything, things had been getting better. Merlin had been slowly becoming the brother that Harry had always wanted….sure they had a ways to go, but they were getting there. And if he was going to be perfectly honest; he didn't want to leave Arthur behind.

Yes, he was a fool.

So he was left waiting for the other shoe to drop…. and by the way that Morgana had been staring at him all night (when Uther was not looking that is), he couldn't help but feel like it was going to fall rather soon.

-0-

Morgana narrowed her eyes as she watched his wary approach. The churning guilt she felt at what she planned on doing did not entirely erase the anger and betrayal she still felt over her friend's lies and mistruths. No, definitely not.

She knew that she was at least equally in the wrong over her own half truths (or would be when she finally carried out the plan—most likely she would be even more responsible for the rift between them at that point) but as of now…..

Right now he was more in the wrong then she was—he had lied to her from the moment they met and she had no doubt that he was still doing so. So yes she was still rather pissed, and she wasn't about to hide that fact.

Henry seemed to pick up on her mood as his expression became even more guarded then before, but despite his clear reluctance, he did not falter in his path. "Your Highness" his greeting was formal and stiff and only further stroked her own anger.

They were friends! Or at least they had been…..how had things fallen so far?

Not trusting her volatile emotions at the moment, she responded with a tight nod, choosing to wait and see what he wanted before risking opening her mouth. Who knew what would come out if she allowed herself to do so?

The raven haired man shifted his weight uneasily, his eyes darting to take in those around them—searching to see if anyone was paying them any mind. No one was—they were all to lost in their celebrations to pay anyone else any attention (even if that anyone was the reason they were all here celebrating). "Can I speak with you?" Henry asked lowly. When Morgana nodded but made no other move, he continued—equally as quiet, "in private?"

She debated on denying him out of spite. She was after all still very very angry with him and his brother (though no one had any right to deny her the right to be angry at Merlin—he had threatened her life after all!). But she knew that was the childish spiteful side of her speaking. The more centered logical side knew that they had to talk eventually….if only to draw lines once and for all.

She felt a beat of anticipation while simultaneously feeling an overwhelming weight of dread.

"Fine" she agreed spinning on her heel to lead him out of the noisy hall. No one would miss them for a while—and if anyone asked it was easy enough to say she had been feeling overwhelmed by the festivities and needed a breath of air.

They walked in heavy silence until they reached the outer reaches of the citadel complex-only the tall stone gates between them and the rest of Camelot. It eerily quiet and she knew that the guards who were supposed to be on duty this cold night had likely sneaked a pint or two from the banquet tables earlier.

While exposing the castle horribly in case of attack, it did afford them the privacy to talk freely without fear of being overheard.

She refused to be the first one to break the uncomfortable silence. Henry was the one to want to talk after all…She hurriedly buried the part of her that wanted to smirk at him and make a joke, the part that wanted to tease him like she would have when they first became friends. They were not friends anymore; she needed to remember that.

"What are you going to do?" Henry finally asked his face unemotional and flat. Though it was easy for Morgana to see the fear and sadness in the depths of his green eyes. Again the increasingly familiar refrain echoed in her head; how had it come to this?

"I don't know what you mean" her response was automatic and defensive. They both knew it was a lie.

Henry scoffed his eyes hardening, "Why did you come back? We both know that you are no friend of Camelot's. I don't care if everyone else believes the relieved, faithful daughter act…..I know better"

A faint smirk pulled at her lips, "no I don't suppose you do….but then what can you really do about it?" There was nothing he could do and they both knew it. Even if he went screaming through the village square about her being a witch and her partnership with Morgause—no one would believe him. It would likely only end up in his burning at the stake.

"I know" he said simply. She admired how he could sound so calm in the face of someone who could destroy his life with a sentence—she wasn't sure she could do the same. "Are you going to tell Uther then?"

She quirked her eyebrow—not verbally denying or affirming his fear. She knew that she was being cruel; but a small part (the sadistic wronged part) was enjoying stringing him along. She felt a stab of fear…. just how much had Morgause wormed into her psyche?

"God dammit Morgana! Just answer the question! Are you going to tell Uther about what Merlin did? Are you going to tell him about what I am? It's not like I can do anything to stop you—at least do me the service of letting me know how much time I have left"

She felt a wash of shame at his last words. Yes she was angry at him, yes she knew she was going to further betray Camelot but that did not erase everything they had once had. She had been in his shoes before and instead of toying with her fear and uncertainty he had gone out of his way to reassure and teach her about magic. His help had helped her embrace her gift rather than fear it. Still she had a job to do….

"Maybe you could" she replied an adjustment to the plan forming in her mind.

Henry looked at her startled, his confusion at her statement clear on his face. "Excuse me?"

She sighed but explained further, "Maybe there is something you could do to persuade me from going to Uther with what your brother threatened to do to me" she didn't bother with his last part—she would never betray another magical to Uther; no matter what they had done to her. Henry should have known that.

It was the fact that he didn't that spurred her on to carrying out Morgause's plan. Her sister knew her—at least Morgana liked to pretend that she did. "What are you willing to do…what are you willing to sacrifice to ensure your brother's safety?"

It was cruel of her. Still she was at least a little bit curious to his answer…after all Merlin had been unbelievably cold and dismissive of his bond with Henry. Would Henry be willing to even fight for his brother's life in light of that?

She watched his face pale and his adams apple move as he swallowed dryly, he looked like he was going to be sick.

Maybe she had gone too far? Maybe she should….

Her thoughts were cut off by Henry's croaky answer, "anything"

At first she thought she misheard. Surely her friend would not willingly place himself in such a vulnerable position for someone who had barely acknowledged him as family? No one was that self sacrificing…..

Yet apparently Henry was. Her gaze met terrified but determined eyes—he was not being naïve, he knew exactly what she could ask of him yet he was willing to risk it anyway. All for Merlin's safety.

For a second time that night she felt unbelievably ashamed at herself. And admittedly impressed and a bit jealous—such loyalty to family that had done little for him, when her own family (well Arthur at least) had done so much for her yet was on the receiving end of her anger and vitriol. She knew in that moment that she was not half the person Henry was. And for the first time in a long time….she wish she were.

She wished she was the one receiving that kind of loyalty—and she wished that she deserved to receive it.

And for the first time since she had fallen under Morgause's influence she realized that even under her sister's influence she had been living a lie. Yes she had been unhappy under Uther's rule (she still was in fact) but that unhappiness had not left when she did. Living with Morgause and her plots and schemes had done little to alleviate the isolation and loneliness she had felt all of her life (or at least until she met Henry). She had been deluding herself into thinking that life under her sister's rule would be better than life under her stepfather's rule was.

The sound of metal hitting stone broke her from her revelations. She and Henry's eyes shot down to where the now blackened bracelet lay desolately on the courtyard ground. She realized that it was the bracelet that Morgause had gifted her all that time ago….

She stooped down to tentatively reach for the adornment—realizing that for the first time in a long time she felt lighter. Like some huge weight of anger and distrust had been removed from her shoulders. She stopped her hand from clasping the bracelet as sudden suspicion flooded her.

Just what was the bracelet's true purpose? Because she suddenly found that she didn't believe it was a simple nightmare soother as she had been led to believe.

"Morgana?" Henry's voice asked. His tone was curious but even more wary.

Thoughts free of outside influence she made a promise to herself right there and then. She would fix things with her friend; she wouldn't allow hate and anger to cloud her judgment any longer.

She swore that she would make things right between them.

-oo—

Morgause shot up in bed with a strangled gasp. Something was wrong…..seriously wrong.

It felt as though something inside of her had snapped. Over the past week, (ever since Morgana's departure to be honest) Morgause had felt as though something in her chest was straining- bowing under the pressure of too much weight and stress.

She had dismissed it….she had far more important things to worry about after all (like keeping the conniving little ass living with her in line and stringing Cendred along enough to guarantee her the needed power base to take down Camelot)…but now there was no denying it.

Her carefully crafted plans had just hit a major roadblock. And all because Morgana was too undependable.

She had hoped that being family she could rely on the girl. She had counted on it in fact. She thought that it would be easy to manipulate her half sister—and for a time, it had been. The bracelet had been the perfect reassurance….after all; it took a very strong will to break the inherent purpose of the artifact. She had been so sure that Morgana did not have that will….especially when coupled with Morgause's subtle influence.

The stark emptiness of a broken bond spoke otherwise. It could only be caused by one thing, and one thing alone: Morgana had just removed the bracelet…..

She had just lost one of the key players needed to infiltrate and conquer Camelot. And it made her want to scream.

This just wouldn't do.

-0-

Sweat trickled past his brow and into his eyes but Harry ignored the stinging blur to his vision as he dodged yet another vicious swing at his life. His muscles burned and ached in a way that they hadn't in a very long time. He didn't know how long they had been fighting….

It had come out of nowhere—a completely unexpected and seemingly unstoppable attack. His magic had barely flared with enough time for him to exit his room much less warn anyone about the impending danger. He had thought that the last attack on Camelot would have highlighted her defense shortfalls, and it had. Sadly it would seem that they were once again paying for Uther's arrogance…because despite knowing the weak points in Camelot's defense and army, he had done little, if anything, to fix it.

And now Camelot's last standing defense; her knights and citizens, were an inch away from being slaughtered like the sheep many of them were.

Harry felt a vindictive sense of pleasure as he watched his opponent trip over a raised stone that hadn't been there a moment before and spear himself on his own sword. Magic was truly handy sometimes. Though he knew he had to be careful—it wouldn't do to survive this attack only to be burnt at the stake later…..And with how much subtle wandless magic he was being forced to use to survive and keep those around him alive, he doubted he would have the energy to apparate away to safety should it come to that.

"Henry—Duck!"

Henry chose to put faith in his one time friend and did as instructed—just narrowly avoiding having his head separated from his shoulders by a gorilla of a man. He could only thank all that was good that Morgana seemed to have finally chosen a side.

That it was Camelot's, and therefore Arthur's and his, was an added bonus.

Dispatching of his assailant with a quick jab to his carotid Henry spun around, sucking in gasping breaths of air as he did (he may have been in fighting shape, but even he had his limits—apparently several hours of dodging and killing was nearing them), trying to take stock of where everyone was while praying that they were holding up under this constant on slat.

He felt his stomach clench with nerves as took it in. Morgana was faltering, though the training her and Henry had done ages ago was clearly showing to her benefit. The hand to hand at least—she seemed to have adopted the same approach as Henry, using her magic only subtly to aid her physical maneuvers. A few paces from her his brother was quickly wilting under the heavy assault of Morgause's magical attacks. He too was inhibited by the lack of magic he could use….much more then Morgana, as Merlin had zero physical skills to fall back on.

Henry sent a subtle tripping curse at Morgause, hoping to catch her off guard and give Merlin a momentary reprieve, while he figured out some other way that he could help his brother. He needed to draw her attention away from his awkward sibling, even if it was to his own person—at least he had a fighting chance at surviving while being forced to rely mainly on his muggle training. Without his magic, Merlin had nothing.

He lunged at the witch, his small scabbier swinging near enough to cause her to take a startled leap back. It caused her to do just what he had hoped, forcing her attention to skitter away from Merlin and narrow in on him. The malice in her eyes made him swallow.

He didn't wait for her attack—instead taking the initiative and slicing downwards. She easily evaded him, a mocking smile playing on her lips.

"Come now child is that all you have? Some pathetic piece of metal?"

He feinted to the left before quickly switching sides—Morgause just narrowly avoided the sharp tip this time. Some of the confidence left her face yet she did a fair job of hiding her unease. "We both know that this isn't your weapon of choice Emrys…. What's the matter to scared to use your real power?"

He tuned her out with little effort—after all, during his previous duels with Voldemort it had been one of his favorite strategies….hell even Malfoy largely relied on taunting to distract and anger. Of course it had worked both ways in those cases….what was to say that wasn't true in this case as well?

"I am saving that for someone who's an actual threat" he stated mildly, proud that his own fatigue and irritation at the situation didn't show.

The witch it turned out, was a sad comparison to his past enemies—the one sentence drawing a snarl of anger from her. She was far to invested in gaining the upper hand and foolishly allowed her emotions to override her pragmatic side. The result was a brash, impulsive fighter rather than a strategic one.

Harry narrowly dodged the ball of orange thrown at him—glad to have done so when the floor where it hit melted and crumbled. The magic the witch was wielding might be different from his own but he could see that with the right motivation it could be equally as damaging. He really didn't want to test his last minute luck by allowing her a direct hit…

Sadly it seemed to undermine Harry's strategy as well. Having released such a potent ball of magic appeared to calm the blond down from her previous rage—or at least given her the time to regain a handle on her emotions. Her eyes still shone with the need to annihilate but it was no longer pure reckless rage. "You chose the wrong side boy. I will win today….with or without you and your pathetic brother's aid"

"…without your sister's as well?" Harry taunted once again leaping to the side to avoid getting hit—this time with a piece of flying stone (likely one that had been dislodged in the previous missed attack).

"She will pay for her treachery…and in the end it matters little. Her power is weak at best…unlike yours little sorcerer. Tell me do you know what's wrong with you yet?"

Harry felt his foot falter and trip slightly—what did she know?

"What are you talking about?" he demanded once again throwing himself forward, this time his blade making contact. The wound on her arm was shallow true—but it was still there.

Her laughter cut off in a hiss at the cut before she quickly threw her hands at him—the power causing him to be thrown back several feet, but not quite enough to knock him off his feet. Harry briefly wondered where the hell Merlin had gotten to, but a quick glance to the side showed that he had been weigh laid by another anonymous soldier. And where the hell did they even keep coming from?! The numbers seemed overwhelming….

"Oh come now little boy….don't play naïve, you know what I am talking about. Or can't you remember?"

Harry's drew in a sharp breath. She knew. He didn't know how but somehow she knew something that even he had only just barely been made aware of…..

She knew about his black outs. The gaps in his memory…..just what did she know about them though? Did she know the cause? Was she the cause?

He wanted to grab her and apparate somewhere he could interrogate the answers out of her….he wanted—no needed, to discover the truth behind his mysterious lapses….

But before he could even so much as ask her to expound a startled garble fell from her lips. Along with something that looked suspiciously like blood.

As her body crumpled forward Harry's eyes fell upon a half horrified/half triumphant looking Merlin, clutching weakly to the end of a heavy looking broadsword. "I—I didn't mean….I…" the pale looking man stuttered unable to move his eyes from the gasping woman at his feet.

Harry didn't answer him, only just throwing a nonverbal stasis spell (he was not going to let her die before he had his answers!) at the woman before his attention was forcefully drawn to a still ongoing skirmish just behind his brother.

At first he didn't know what had caught his attention so suddenly. Arthur stood—sword clashing against someone who Harry had thought he heard called Cendred. Both were fairly evenly paired, though as the fight went on it was clear that Arthur was winning.

No, despite his and Arthur's tentative bond, (because while Arthur was unaware of it—the moment that Harry had forgiven him and started sleeping with him once more, his magic had decreed that Arthur was his) that shouldn't have been enough to cause his magic to demand his attention like it just had…..especially when it was clear that Arthur was going to win….

No for his magic to act like that there had to be an imminent danger.

And then he saw him. He saw the traitorous man, his hand and sword already starting their descent to Arthur's unprotected neck.

Harry wouldn't be able to get there in time to push the prince out of the way. He couldn't get to Mordred to push him aside or even trip him with his magic.

He didn't have a second to consider the consequences of his actions—he just knew that he had to act, and act now or Arthur's life would be forfeit.

He didn't hesitate, didn't pause to consider all of his options—just acting on instinct. Instinct, which had him raising his own hand and throwing what little was left of his magic towards the prince.

And like the faithful friend it was it left him in a bright, unmistakable jet of energy, ripping Arthur's form away from his hidden attacker and sending him flying towards Harry while sending both Mordred and Cendred slamming back into the hard stone wall.

The impact of Arthur's body sent both of them careening towards the ground, effectively knocking the breath out of Harry.

It took a few minutes before he was able to see past the stars blurring his vision and when he did, he almost wished he hadn't.

Arthur's wide blue eyes stared back at him in horrified shock and betrayal.

"Was that magic?!"

Note:

Chapter title: from the rhyme titled: The grand old Duke of York

The Grand old Duke of York he had ten thousand men
He marched them up to the top of the hill
And he marched them down again.
When they were up, they were up
And when they were down, they were down
And when they were only halfway up
They were neither up nor down.

The origin to the words of "The grand old Duke of York" are believed to date back to the Plantagenet dynasty in

the 15th century and refer mockingly to the defeat of Richard, "The grand old Duke of York" in the Wars of the Roses (1455). This war was between the house of York (whose symbol was a white rose) and the house of Lancaster (whose symbol was a red rose). The Wars of the Roses lasted for over thirty years and were equivalent to a Civil War. The words of the Nursery rhyme are believed to refer to Richard, Duke of York, claimant to the English throne and Protector of England and the Battle of Wakefield on December 30, 1460. The Duke of York and his army marched to his castle at Sandal where Richard took up a defensive position against the Lancastrian army.
Sandal Castle was built on top of the site of an old Norman motte and bailey fortress. Its massive earthworks stood 33 feet (10m) above the original ground level ("he marched them up to the top of the hill").

In a moment of madness he left his stronghold in the castle and went down to make a direct attack on the Lancastrians " he marched them down again". His army was overwhelmed and Richard the Duke of York was killed. (taken from: . )