Okay. Here it is. The moment we've all been waiting for- the council meeting to top all council meetings. Or, at least, I hope so. This is, quite possibly, the most nervous I have ever been about posting a chapter, and I believe you'll see why when you get to the end. Also, this will be your last chance if any more of you want to make suggestions for the overall series title. Which I will think over even more and, if all goes to plan, announce in the next chapter, which I hope to find time to type up and post sometime during this week. I don't want to leave too long a gap this time. You'll see why.

Enough with the teasers, though. I should probably stop rambling and just let you read. Please, though, if at all possible, let me know what you think of this one. As I said before, I'm extremely nervous about where this story is going, so it really would mean the world to me if you would review. Many thanks in advance to those who do.

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin (As you full well know. Must I keep having to repeat myself?)

Chapter 36

The council took a lot longer to gather than Uther would have liked. In the end, it was almost half an hour from when he had entered the room before the last council member- Lord Terrowin, as it turned out- made his way through the door. And, for most of that time, he had been forced to endure the presence of that sorcerer friend of his son's- someone who, after the mental turmoil of half a year previously, he had hoped to never have to see again- as the pair of them stood in the corner of the room. They had largely remained silent, barring the delighted yelp which had erupted from that Merlin boy as he rushed forward to embrace Gaius upon the physician's arrival. Following a brief conversation, Gaius had- rather reluctantly- parted ways with his ward and left the room once more, explaining to Uther that Sir Kennard had apparently been quite badly wounded and likely required medical attention. The King had been more than happy to grant the physician's request for leave- not only because of the situation, but also because he had no real desire to force his friend to endure yet another trial with regards to his ward's fate.

Uther had spent the time sitting at the head of the table- manipulating his aura so that none would dare to approach him until everyone had gathered- and studying Arthur and his pet sorcerer out of the corner of his eye. The dynamics between the two had shifted again, and Arthur had a fiery glint in his eye which suggested that he was yet again determined to spend the entire meeting arguing for the return of magic to the Kingdom, no matter how many issues such an action would cause.

The problem here, though, was not Arthur (since the start of the purge itself, the King had fought off any number of similar arguments, after all), but Merlin instead. Unlike six months previously, where his opponent had been a half-terrified boy, trapped and confused by a mist of his own, uncontrollable magic, Uther now found himself faced with a seemingly mature and wise young man who, if his current solemn expression was anything to go by, had come up with a few choice points of reasoning of his own. And Uther had an uncomfortable feeling that whatever the dark-haired young sorcerer had come up with would be something entirely new. The boy was an unknown. And that was dangerous.

Forcing himself from his thoughts, the King watched critically as Terrowin seated himself, pushing back wisps of heavily-greying hair from where it had fallen over his flabby face- no doubt during his rush to answer the council's summons.

"Now that we are all here," Uther began, deliberately injecting an element of steel into his tone, "we can finally begin. I am sure you are all curious regarding the current presence of a certain... being in this room, as well as how exactly that links in to what we have experienced. And, as Prince Arthur was directly involved in the events of the past days, he shall be the one to give you a brief-" here he shot a warning glance in his son's direction-" update on what occurred. Arthur, if you would."

Arthur nodded his acquiescence, stepping forward so that he was a few paces away from Merlin, but still refusing to join the main council members around the table. It was a risky move, as it simultaneously alienated him from the seated parties and also lent him an air of authority over them.

"Thank you, father," Arthur began, before briefly meeting the eyes of everyone in the room and slipping into an easy yet firm stance. "I was first alerted to the fact that something dangerous was occurring amongst Camelot's citizens during morning training yesterday, when Sir Vidor presented some highly out-of-character behaviour. Upon further questioning, he then went on to sink into what can only be described as a trance state, and even showed symptoms of memory loss. It was around this time that Morgana arrived in the city, and everyone barring myself and Sir Kennard were brought under the Witches' control- myself through Merlin's protection, and Sir Kennard because he possesses a rare mental pattern which cannot be influenced by such forms of magic.

"After ascertaining Morgana's intentions, and quickly concluding that we held far from enough information to risk confronting her directly, I decided that we needed the assistance of an expert. As the circumstances provided us with a startling lack of options on this front, I persuaded Kennard to accompany me in freeing the Warlock, Merlin, from his captivity."

A murmuring of noise caused Arthur to pause, and Uther had to admit himself to be impressed when a single glance from his son silenced those who had spoken. It seemed that Arthur had picked up one or two talents from his old man after all.

"As it turned out," the Prince continued, "it was a good thing I did so, as Merlin discovered that the sisters had set up a magical web large enough that it encompassed the entire Kingdom, making use of dozens of magical vessels hidden throughout the city to do so. It was also these spells which were responsible for the recent unrest in the Kingdom- early signs which, I am afraid, none of us were able to pick up on. Within a matter of days, the enchantments' effects would have become completely irreversible.

"Although events transpired so that we were left unable to act further until today, we- together with a sorcerer who had been working against the sisters from within- managed to gather together all of the vessels.

"As Merlin was in the process of breaking the enchantments' effects, we were discovered by Morgana and Morgause. It was during this time that Sir Kennard received a grievous injury, which was later largely healed by our sorcerer ally. Fortunately, Merlin was able to break the spells and, after a brief battle, succeeded in killing Morgause. After which-" his voice rose over the startled exclamations- "Morgana fled together with another magic-user. Then, once Kennard had been treated, I organised the gatherings of the Knights and the Council, and went with Merlin to assure myself of the King's safety. The rest, I believe, you can imagine for yourselves."

Whilst Uther was processing this information, a voice spoke up from the other end of the table.

"And where is this 'sorcerer ally' you speak of, sire? Or has he, perhaps, already fled the city, too? Why is he not here, when that so-called 'Warlock' of yours is?"

"He is not here, Lord Aldric," Arthur snapped, his voice hard, "because I thought it appropriate to give him a short time of mourning. Soon after his treachery was discovered, his young daughter was murdered by Morgause in a most brutal fashion. After witnessing such an event, I am sure you would agree that he deserves a while to himself before being paraded in front of a group of men who likely want only to see him executed even after all he has sacrificed for us!"

Uther eyed his son critically. It was rare- nay, nigh on unheard of- for Arthur to become so worked up over someone he had allegedly first met less than twenty-four hours previously. Had this mystery sorcerer perhaps invoked some sort of magical control over him? Or was it actually possible that the situation had been dire enough to form a strong bond between them regardless of the brief amount of time for which they had known each other? Such a thing was not altogether unusual, after all. Among regular men, at least.

Regarding the details of Morgause's enchantments, Uther was under no illusion that Arthur had told him anything shy of the truth. He had had plenty of time to recall his own erratic actions and paranoid behaviour during the past months, and had no problem in believing that his mind had been manipulated, as the Prince had described. Arthur, though, had also been arguably more emotional. Could it actually be believed that he had behaved in such a manner- defended both Merlin and the use of magic in general so fervently- even whilst being protected from the spells' effects? Though such a notion was pushing things, it was not entirely impossible to conclude that his son had instead been under the Warlock's control all along. Given recent events, there was plenty of evidence to suggest that such long-distance manipulation was possible, after all- as long as the sorcerer was powerful enough. Even if the Merlin boy appeared, by all accounts, to be innocent, there could be no guarantee where magic was concerned.

"And is there anything else you wish to add?" He questioned dryly, raising a stern eyebrow and doing his utmost not to let his gaze flicker over to the Warlock standing behind his son.

"Only my increased belief that the ban on magic should be repealed- for the sake of those who wish only to be able to use their gifts without the fear of execution hanging over their heads."

"And do you honestly believe," the King demanded, his recent ordeals still fresh in his mind, "that any citizen of Camelot, or in any of our allied nations, will believe in the benefits of magic after they have seen such blatant evidence that it corrupted even the Lady Morgana herself?"

Quite by accident, his voice had risen in volume during his speech, and he found himself having to take a series of calming breaths while Arthur readied his answer, trying to push aside the vivid memories of his daughter's twisted delight as he writhed and screamed in agony. As Arthur began to speak, he forced himself to focus on that still, soothing presence still wrapped around his centre. Even if it only existed in his imagination, it was the only comfort he had right then.

"They will believe what they are shown to be true," Arthur stated calmly. "That Morgana was not corrupted by magic, but instead by her own hatred and fear. Like many others, she originally just wanted to be free from said fear. It was her head-strong nature which led her to embrace her anger towards Camelot's laws- laws which condemn her very existence. And, from what I saw today, I am very much afraid it has driven her mad."

And there it was- the crux of the matter. Morgana had long since been discontent with his reign- Uther had known it, even if he had been unwilling to acknowledge that fact. But was even that truly because of her own will? The nightmares- likely, he now saw, to have been early signs of her developing powers- had come before any such change of heart. And now, recalling the absurd fire in her chambers so many months ago, it was no real stretch to say that that- the beginning of her continuously more rebellious behaviour- was when her magic had fully manifested. Again, it was easy to see that magic could have been the source. The magic and her concurrent fear were too closely connected to be truly distinguished by any third party.

"There is no proof to support those claims," he started, beginning to rise. "And I will not see the Kingdom I have worked so hard to protect sink once more into the darkness which magic represents when all you have are unsubstantiated claims regarding the nature of such arts. If that is all, Arthur, then you are dismissed while the rest of us decide upon that sorcerer's fate."

The two royals stood, staring into the others' eyes. Arthur's fists had clenched themselves into loose fists. He was obviously unwilling to give up, but at the same time he had spent long enough around his father to know that the older man's mind was firmly made up when it came to such matters.

The silent confrontation went on for a full minute (the various other nobles shifting uncomfortably in place throughout), before an almost non-existent cough drew the attention of the entire room.

"Then let us prove it."

Nobody said a word as Merlin stepped forward, his expression almost completely indecipherable. The uncomfortable feeling gnawing away at Uther's stomach suddenly increased exponentially as he eyed the Warlock. Something big was about to happen- he was absolutely certain of it. Should he really allow this man- the biggest threat to the Kingdom's peace since the Dragons themselves- to remain in the room, poisoning his son's mind against him, for even a moment longer?

But, before he could even open his mouth to protest, Merlin continued- his calm, determined tone drawing everyone in, as though he were a story-teller and they his audience.

"I know that you all have reason enough to fear magic. Gaius once told me of the times before the purge, when magic-users ran riot, completely unchecked, abusing their gifts in the most horrendous fashions. Of times when the high priestesses used their positions to enslave and torture the minds of mortal men, and when even the healers lived only to serve their own purposes. Of a time when regular citizens either lived in a constant state of fear, or didn't live at all.

"I cannot deny that magic has a dark past, and that the purge, while extreme, may have truly been the only course of action you felt was open to you at the time.

"But times have changed," the Warlock declared, his eyes blazing with his passion. "And those with magic have more than paid the price for what happened back then.

"So I offer you a deal." Here he fixed his eyes firmly on Uther, the King's heart beating faster almost against his will at the fervour expressed in them. "As things stand, your only path of action is to have me imprisoned once again, only for Arthur to release me when the time comes for him to take his place as King. Believe me when I say that I have absolutely no desire whatsoever to spend even a single moment longer in that cell. Nevertheless, I will go- if that is what you decide.

"But, instead, I ask you for six months. In return for the six months I have spent as your captive, I now ask you for a trial of magic. Give us six months to prove to you that the forces of magic can be used for the benefit of this Kingdom- that they are not, as you so firmly believe, capable of causing only pain and disaster, but can also bring light and life to these lands."

Uther, somehow, finally managed to find his voice, and even succeeded in something close to his usual derisive tones. "And if you cannot prove these claims?"

The Warlock's expression became even more grave, and he seemed to be fighting not to turn his eyes away. But, after a moment, his resolve firmed once more.

"Then both myself and Prince Arthur will willingly consent both to the continued ban on magic... and to my execution."