Phew! It's been so long! I'm back, my lovely readers! I only have one more exam left (next Wednesday), so I should be able to update a couple of times before then. Yay! However, you'll be pleased to hear...well, read... that, thanks to the time off from writing, this story has evolved dramatically in my head. This is something I'm extremely proud of, as the ending I'd had in mind previously was beginning to feel distinctly unfinished. So yeah, from now on, expect a whole bunch of stuff to be kicking off. Winston McFarley is going to have a field day.

Thank you so much to all of you who reviewed. I recently realized that this is now officially my longest story. It's all thanks to you lot that I've kept my enthusiasm so high, so I offer all of you who have ever reviewed one cookie of your choosing per review (and an extra one for those who have reviewed every chapter). BRAVO YOU!

Anyway, enough of my ramblings. Here we go:

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin

Chapter 19

Merlin had to hold back the urge to roll his eyes for the fourth time in as many minutes.

"I've already told you, Arthur- It's not necessary. Nobody is going to notice us. The twenty-three people we passed on the way here have proven that."

"Still- it's better to be safe than sorry."

"Arthur- there is absolutely no reason for us to need to walk around on the ceiling. You just want to know if I could do it."

"And could you?"

"I think so, yes."

"Then prove it."

The young Warlock's head dropped on to his chest, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips in the process. They had been waiting in a small, cramped room in the servants' quarters for the past ten or so minutes, ever since Merlin had sensed what appeared to be one of the vessels heading in their direction. Their (utterly pointless) conversation had been going on for five long minutes by this point in time, and the Prince didn't seem to be showing any signs of backing down. It may have been likely that the Blonde-haired man was simply trying to find some form of distraction from the eeriness of the Castle in it's current state. But Merlin figured it was just an annoyance tactic.

'Besides,' Merlin reasoned, 'does he have to choose such a ridiculous topic?'

A giggle from behind them stopped both men in their tracks, and they turned around to find Gwen with a hand over her mouth, her eyes bright with laughter.

"Guinevere? What is it?"

"Is everything alright, Gwen?"

The two men shared a confused look when she didn't answer, but this only served to make the young maidservant laugh harder. Kennard, meanwhile, simply stood stock-still over by the door, keeping an ear out for anyone heading their way. The only indication that he found even mild amusement in the room's proceedings lay in the fact that he had raised a single eyebrow by a millimetre or two.

Merlin stepped forward at the same time as Arthur, and this time the two of them spoke in unison.

"What is it?" Had she gone hysterical from stress or something?

Gwen wiped a tear from her eye, before gesturing shakily at the two of them.

"I'm sorry," she began, "it's just that...that you two have reversed!"

"Reversed?" Questioned Merlin. "What do you mean?"

"Well, ordinarily," Gwen laughed, "Arthur would be the one to take the lead, and Merlin would be annoying him by blabbering on about something pointless. This time it's the other way round."

The young Warlock was just opening his mouth to indignantly insist that he had never blabbered pointlessly in his life, when a faint tingle in the air drew his attention towards the doorway.

"They've entered the net."

Everyone was on alert in moments, hastening to their designated positions- Arthur and Kennard by the door, Merlin in the centre of the room, and Gwen over by the small bed in the corner. The plan had been discussed before they had started their search- once Merlin found any trace of a vessel in the area, they would lie in wait while he set up a detection net surrounding the vicinity. This would alert them to the precise movements of the individual once they had entered the net, making it a simple task for them to capture the person in question. And that was the easy part- they still had yet to think of a way to safely break the spell's power. Merlin could only conclude that he needed to study at least one of the vessels directly to work out a method of doing so. He didn't want to kill anyone unless no other option was left open to them.

As the vessel moved, so that they were almost directly outside of the room, Merlin's eyes widened slightly with horrified realization.

"No. Please no," he whispered under his breath. "Please let me be wrong."

He held one hand so that it pointed shakily towards the door.

"Swefe nu."

A small thump outside alerted Arthur to his success, and the Prince tugged open the door, ready for Kennard to rush out and pull their sleeping victim inside.

Kennard froze in the doorway for a moment, until Arthur hissed at him to hurry up. It was only when the dark-haired Knight carried the small form in to the room that the others saw the reason for the young Knight's hesitation, and that Merlin allowed himself to accept what he had previously surmised. It was no surprise the magic he had sensed was so untrained- the girl in Kennard's arms couldn't have been more than seven years old.

Morgana sat proudly in her new throne, watching with disdainful eyes as a blank-faced Uther allowed himself to be placed in the manacles she had earlier had attached to the wall over by the door. Her greatest living enemy was under her control.

And she should have been relishing in that fact.

But the truth was that, although she enjoyed the domination she currently held over Uther, there was something bothering her. A large part of her didn't want Uther to be merely another pawn. She wanted him to suffer. To know exactly who she was, and what he had put her through over the years. She wanted him to know just how much she loathed him, and to truly feel her wrath.

But he would never realize, or feel, the true extent of her emotions if he remained a mere puppet.

She turned to the Blonde woman who stood at her side.

"Morgause?"

"What is it, sister? Is there something you find unsatisfactory?"

The young seeress' eyes glinted maliciously. "I have a request."

Kennard stared down at the minuscule form he had just set down on the bed. 'One of the only ways to stop the effects of a spell with a living vessel... Is to kill the vessel itself.' That was what the Prince had said. Did that mean that, to save the Kingdom, they may end up having to kill the little girl sleeping soundly before them? And possibly others like her? Kennard had killed before, in battle, but only grown men- warriors. He didn't think he had it in him to willingly watch any child die- especially by his own hands.

The young Knight looked over at Merlin. The older man was entirely different to him. Forget wondering if he was capable of such a thing- Kennard could tell that killing the child had never even crossed his mind, from the moment he had laid eyes on the girl. The Warlock didn't even think of it as something that would be done. Instead, as soon as the child had been settled, Merlin's expression had shifted to one of pure, righteous anger. He had been staring towards one spot of the ceiling ever since. Probably trying furiously to think of another way. His pure determination was something the silver-eyed Knight was sure he would grow to greatly admire in the man.

"I can't believe she would do this."

Kennard moved his face towards the young maidservant in the room- the source of the declaration. She had finally torn her eyes from the child, and had instead locked gazes with the Prince, utter grief in her eyes.

"I can't believe," she continued, "that Morgana would actually put a child in this position. Has she really changed that much?"

"I suppose we have to face it," answered Arthur, straightening to his full height. "The Morgana we knew would never do something like this. If it's reached this stage, I doubt we can ever bring her back."

The room was silent for a while. For the first time, Kennard felt somewhat disconnected from the others. Unlike them, he had not personally known the Lady Morgana. He would never know what she had been like in the past. But if the expressions of the others in the room were anything to go by, she had been a wonderful person. And now she had changed into the type of person who would sacrifice a child's life as unimportant. For them to have to make the decision to think of her as an enemy must be tearing them apart. He could sense it in the slight tremor in the Prince's voice. But, at the same time, they all knew that it was something that had to be done. And Kennard had no doubt whatsoever that his three companions were more than strong enough to see their venture through to the end, and to move past any regrets they might hold regarding Morgana.

After several moments in which nobody moved, Merlin's eyes narrowed. Kennard watched as the Warlock tore his gaze from the ceiling, then looked around at each person in the room, his eyes lingering on Arthur, before he finally moved over to the bed.

"I'm going to wake her up."

Michael hovered in the catacombs, admiring the rune he had just spent half an hour setting into the stone with satisfaction. 'Soon,' he thought, 'soon everything will be in place. Just one more, and it will finally be complete.'

A small smirk began to tug at the corner of his lips as he set out on his journey towards the cavernous dungeon he had chosen as the setting for the final rune. If his estimations were correct, the cave in question was where the great Dragon had been imprisoned. In his opinion, that particular fact fit what he was doing perfectly. What better setting could there be to give a group of people the freedom to use their magic the way they themselves desired? It was almost poetic really.

He had just exited the catacombs when Morgause's voice echoed in his mind.

'Michael. Come to the throne room. You're needed.'

He paused in his movements, his face turning automatically towards the source of the voice. 'Very well, my Lady. I shall head there directly.'

'Transport yourself. The Queen is becoming impatient."

'Yes, my Lady.'

The connection cut off, and Michael let out a barely audible sigh. How did the two sisters expect him to get any work done if they kept summoning him so often? Sometimes he wished he hadn't gained quite so much favour in their eyes.

Taking hold of the amulet he kept around his neck, he closed his eyes, focusing on the well of power stored within his body.

"Bedyrne ic! Ástýre ic þanonweard."

A swirl of black smoke passed his eyes, engulfing his entire body, and the roar of wind echoed in his ears. Moments later, Michael stood in the throne room, shaking his head to rid his ears of the slight ringing sound which lingered there. Catching sight of Morgause and the newly-crowned Queen, he bowed his head.

"My Ladies."

Morgause acknowledged his presence, then beckoned to someone behind him. Before Michael could turn his head to see who it was, a young boy with a mop of sandy hair and a soulful expression had been led in to view by one of the enchanted guards. Michael recognised him as Eldon- the child who had been made the Vessel for the spell meant for Camelot's royalty. This was the first time Michael had seen him since the initial magic had been cast, over five months previously.

"My sister has asked that the spell contained in this child be removed," continued Morgause. "I will require your assistance."

"If it is not too presumptuous of me, my Lady, may I ask why? We have yet to find the Prince- releasing him from the spell this early may prove dangerous."

Morgause shook her head in a way that suggested she had expected, as he had known she would, for that very question to be asked. "We do not believe that the spell was effective against the Prince. And there is no need for Uther to remain enchanted any longer. Now, take your position."

With the formalities over with, Michael took his place, kneeling across from the young boy. Closing his eyes, he concentrated to such a degree that he blocked out all sense of anything bar his magic. It was probably this ability, together with his level of power, which had been the reason for Morgause to choose him for this role. And, although he couldn't feel it amidst the sea of nothingness in which he now swam, he knew that the witch's finger would be resting upon the nape of his neck, and that in that moment she would be whispering a spell he would never be able to learn. The only thing he knew for certain was that one of the strings of power leading out from him was gradually breaking, the severed bond gradually receding back in to his body. It was only when the power had settled completely that he brought himself out of his meditation, blinking his eyes blearily. He looked at the boy in front of him- the boy to whom he was no longer linked- for just a few moments, before turning his face back to that of the Blonde-haired woman who had moved back to stand beside her sister's throne once again.

"Will that be all, my Lady? Or would you like me to take the boy anywhere?"

A flash of some indefinable emotion flickered in the witch's eyes, and for a moment Michael thought she would actually say yes. However...

"No. The boy is of no use any more. I will have him removed to somewhere where where his skills can be put to use." She gazed towards the enchanted guard, and a moment later he had stepped forward, taken Eldon's arm, and led the boy away. Michael never took his eyes off of Morgause until he heard a man's demanding voice speaking from somewhere behind him.

"What is going on here?" A pause, and then just one more strangled word. "Morgana?"

The ginger-haired sorcerer stood as Morgana rose from her throne, turning as she passed him.

"Father. I'm so glad you're awake. You're just in time for the fun to begin."

Michael's eyes widened. He had not been informed of this. He had not even sensed the man's presence. But there was no denying it- there, at the end of the hall, the former King was chained to the wall, now- thanks to Michael- free of the enchantment which had held him in it's grasp. He had the bemused look of one who had just woken from a long dream, and was not entirely sure that what they were seeing was real.

However, that look was about to change, as the moment Morgana reached her father, she reached out a single finger towards her old guardian's chest. A finger on which Michael sensed a single malevolent spell had been ingrained.

A moment later, a scream of unimaginable pain splintered through the air.

Eep! So many goings on!

Review? Please? Or are you just going to make me suffer for keeping you waiting for so long? Because that's just mean *pouts*

(p.s. I really don't like the new layout when you've signed in. Not at all. Any of it. It makes me so sad.)