I feel like there needs to be a warning on these next few chapters for excessive angst so be warned- it's coming! Anyway thanks got to anyone reviewing, following, favouriting (still a word dammit!) and reading this story. I honestly don't know how you put up with my many unresolved plot lines and lack of Merthur but hey ho! Enjoy anyway.

Catriona's POV

The guards draw away as I enter the dark, dingy dungeons. He's in one of the lower cells. Mordred. My heart whispers pleas of innocence for him even as my head argues about the proof against him but the whispers won't be quenched. My shoes echo loudly on the floor and when I glance out of the window I see men building the pyre.

Turning my eyes away I finally come to his cell. "Mordred."

The figure sitting hunched in the darkness raises his head and from the thin light from the window I see a slither of his calm face. "Hello Aunt. How do you like my new accommodations?"

"I'm going to get you out of here Mordred."

He chuckles hollowly and the noise sends a shiver down my spine. "You wield no power in the court. You are merely Uthur's figurehead queen. The power of the Tregors has long faded- my betrayal has only certified that." He slowly gets to his feet and approaches the bars still unnervingly calm. "You have no power to get me out Aunt. You're weak."

I step away from my brother's son as his patronizing gaze stays fixed on me. "Why are you doing this? Why betray Camelot?"

"O my dear Aunt with magic such as my mother has how could I ever be anything but magical." It's not the magic that hurts in the fact he lied to me about it blatantly and the uncaring way he admits it. "Of course Ambrosia whilst powerful magically is weak and inactive. I am a High Priest of the Old Religion not some hedge sorcerer your dear husband found selling amulets barely charmed. Do not presume that you can burn me on that flimsy little pyre of yours." His face takes an ugly smirk as he leers through the bars. I stumble back into the metal bars of the opposite cell as he whispers: "I am Emrys."

Emrys. The greatest warlock to ever walk the earth. Fear floods me as I realise that Mordred is dark and powerful. He is so full of hatred and anger not misguided but his actions will affect innocent people. "No. You can't be."

He leans back and looks at me condescendingly. "Believe what you will, Catriona Tregor but know that you cannot contain me. I'm here because I want to be and nothing less."

With that Mordred turns his back on me and returns to sitting in the shadows in an obvious dismissal and I hurry out of the dungeons without another word. My mind is made up, Mordred Tregor is no longer a Tregor, and from this moment on he will never be recognised by that name ever again. He doesn't deserve his father's name. Myriddin would be ashamed to see him now.

One thought that comes to find is though, as I walk form the dungeons back up to my chambers, what happened between him and Morgause? I'd hate to lose both of my only living relatives and recent events have made me reconsider if Morgause was as guilty as Mordred had portrayed her to be. Maybe there was still hope for the Tregor line.

Uthur's POV

Catriona sits at my side as we preside over the silent court. Not even a whisper carries through the chamber as we all wait for the guards to bring the traitor before us. My wife sits tall and proud but her face is stony and her eyes are flashing in anger. She begged me for an audience with her nephew to see if he would repent but whatever he said to her made her come back furious and refusing to acknowledge him as a relation. Partly I was relieved at this change of heart as it made sentencing him ten times easier but I know that whatever he said to her must have been disgusting or offensive in the most heinous way to provoke such a response. That alone fuels my anger towards the traitor but I keep my calm façade up at the moment.

Finally the doors open and a dark haired man is roughly brought forward by the guards. His hair is filled with sweat and grime and his clothes are patched with mud and the odd bit of straw. The boy no longer looks like a Tregor he looks like a vagabond. "Hello Uthur Pendragon." His voice is calm and level despite the imprisonment in the dungeons.

"Mordred you are accused of betraying not only Camelot and you King but also your family Tregor. As such you are no longer recognised by this name."

The man tilts his head to the side and looks at my wife almost laughingly. "Ah well you know how it is with family." He moved his eyes to me eyes full of mocking disdain. "They always betray you and turn their backs." I slowly get off my throne and walk towards him. The whole court draws its breath as my footsteps echo against the stone floor. I abruptly backhand the insolent traitor.

"You are not worthy enough to mention my son. You are an abomination to your father and your name." My voice is cold and the whole court looks terrified bar one.

The traitor smirks despite his reddening cheek fixing me with a look that unsettles me greatly. "Your son is in love with a druid girl Uthur. He has betrayed you Uthur Pendragon because even your son knows what a filthy hypercritical man you are. Strip away your crown and your kingdom and what are you? A sad, bitter old man who has taken out is anger against the world until it burns. But the Triple Goddess is stirring Uthur Pendragon and she will take out her retribution against all those who have persecuted her children."

"Silence." I bellowed at the heathen silencing him immediately. "You Mordred are accused of treachery to the Crown and the Kingdom of Camelot as a former knight of the realm evidence must be presented. Sir James come forth."

Sir James comes forward clutching a faded piece of parchment and looking the prime knight of Camelot he is unlike the foul young man on trial. "I discovered this yesterday morning after a rendezvous with a maid Kara- it reads as follows-

Kara,

I imagine that you're very busy at the moment but I most summon you to use your seasoned skills of espionage. There is a lord here who's threatening my hold on the city and I would prefer not to get any nasty surprises from pompous upstarts.

Meet me in the woods outside of Camelot around midnight at the next full moon.

This is strictly business Kara so don't get any ideas into that pretty little head of yours. Morgause is currently away and you were the first I thought of with your particular skill set. Do not try to contact her (although I doubt you would) as she is deep in her own espionage at the moment gaining allies for the times ahead. Will tell you more when I see you.

Send regards to the other Priestesses for me,

Mordred Tregor"

"This seems pretty conclusive to me." My queen states coldly disturbing the silence of the court.

"Yes it does doesn't it aunt?" The scum's face is perfectly neutral as if commenting upon the weather. "Kara has probably managed to allude you no doubt." At our silence he laughs and I scowl at the foul man.

"Where is your sister Morgause?" I spit right in his face but he takes that ugly look on his face that I briefly saw last time we spoke of his sister.

"Honestly no idea. We severed ties after the little whore managed to get pregnant with one of your son's company." My son! My jaw drops as I imagine that filth carrying my grandchild. "Oh it's not Arthur's, Uthur, do not worry. One of his mongrel company. If it had been on Pendragon blood I might have looked favourably upon it. The little bitch wouldn't just get rid of it so she had to go. I can't have pregnant women clogging up my ranks."

Even I am shocked by the calm disgust in his voice as he speaks of his own flash and blood- this cannot be Myriddin's son! Catriona doesn't have the same problem. "You tried to force her to kill it?!"

The monster shrugs. "The brat isn't useful. And now pregnant neither is she. Alliances cannot be forged now with her so tainted and she cannot fight."

"Your own sister?" Catriona screams angrily making the whole court step back at her fury. "My niece! You would have killed your own niece or nephew just to make alliances!"

The bastard smiled and then muttered with a flash if golden eyes. "Fríese!" Before I or any guards can move to stop him he freezes us all in our places. I watch on horrified as he stands easily and breaks the shackles with a smirk. "I betrayed you aunt didn't I? Did you honestly expect me to hold much store by family ties? Morgause betrayed me and at that moment all family ties I had to the little slut were broken. And did you honestly not take my warning that I would break out?" He tutted mockingly approaching my wife leeringly. "You are no worse than me aunt. Marrying that monster who drove the natural balance out of this land. For someone with no magic you certainly have a strong connection to it. Maybe a few true dreams I imagine but nothing more, enough to make you sympathetic to magic and to feel its wounds. So why would you connect yourself to such an abomination?" My widen as much as they can at my wife who still sits on the throne I gave to her desperately trying to fight against her nephew's hold. She is betraying me also? Will it never end? Arthur, Morgana, Leon, Mordred and now Catriona… they all betray me… they are all traitors! The sorcerer's cruel gaze fixes on me and he smiles. "Don't worry Uthur Pendragon you will not have to live with this most recent betrayal for long."

There's a bright green light and some hissed words and suddenly all I see is black. Then white pure light.

Mordred's POV

Exiting the frozen throne room was ridiculously easy given that Camelot was supposed to be the most fortified city in all of the kingdoms but I, of course, have insider knowledge so the passages are simple to navigate.

The forest is the same as ever and the darkness the greenery provides me keeps me out of sight form the more alert (just barely) guards of Camelot. My destination is clear as the druids I'm looking leave a rather obvious magical signature on the landscape. As I enter their pathetic little camp all gathered bow to me as a High Priest as I walk past heading directly for Iseldir's tent. "Iseldir." I nod curtly at the man who stands in the tent over a basin of water.

"Lord Mordred." The disrespectful fool doesn't look at me and just continues to stare into the watery depths of the basin. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I am on my way to collect an army to take Camelot, Iseldir, as an old friend I thought I'd give you a chance to join me."

"That's a very kind offer Lord Mordred however I do respectfully decline." His glassy blue eyes finally fix on me penetratingly. "There is much darkness that surrounds you Lord Mordred."

I shrug off the old man's words and continue casually. "Are you entirely certain Iseldir? This is a one-time offer and once I leave this tent I shall not be so benevolent. Once the war begins there shall be no shelter for your people Iseldir and you shall either burn or persevere but that all depends on what you say now."

"Yes I believe it does." The man returns to his basin but his countenance isn't changed by my words in fact he looks more resolved than ever. "I still decline your offer Lord Mordred. The Lady Ambrosia and her fellow High Priestesses have already secured my allegiance."

"High Priestesses?" I spit venomously causing my powerful façade to crack just a little. "Who dares claim such a title? Ambrosia Le Fay is the last of a dying era!"

"Not so Lord Mordred for the time of the Old Religion is returning and so are the High Priestesses." Iseldir's face remains impartial. "I sense that this is the time of your choice. It is your decision now whether you perish in the fires that burn within your own soul or whether you choose the path of Light."

I turn my back on the crazed old man and hiss at the delusional man. "It is you who shall perish Iseldir. I choose the path of Victory no the life of oppression. You shall die along with your false High Priestesses and the betrayer Ambrosia Le Fay."

With that I storm out of the cowardly man's tent spitting curses at him and all who follow under his banner. For a moment I sense a powerful magical presence in the area but it's soon squashed by the smell of these common druids and their filthy herbal scent. I must have imagined it. A little ginger boy runs into me and I slap him across the cheek causing him to fall back. "Do you not recognise me you filthy little child? I am your superior and you do not disrespect your betters in such a manner!" I bellow at the already crying child whose cheek has been cut and started to bleed.

If this is how pathetic the 'path of light' is than Iseldir is as good as dead in his pathetic camp. The mother of the confounded child rushes over. At least I assume it's the brat's mother as she has his ginger hair. She begins yelling profanities at me but I just ignore her and walk away from the accursed camp. She is not worthy of my time, especially not over some spineless, disobedient child.

Morgana's POV

The walk back to Camelot is uneventful despite Gwaine's many attempts to liven things up with his rogue tavern tales. But I think we're all thinking about what we left behind in the citadel- Arthur and Leon are especially quiet- although Leon has been quiet since Morgause left. I can't help myself from wondering what will have happened to the place I called 'home' for so long and the birth father that I never knew I had. Will my chambers be as they were when Arthur, Merlin and I spent that afternoon talking before this whole mess? Will Gwen be waiting diligently as always with a ready smile on her face despite of anything and everything that has happened recently?

Despite all my new discoveries recently (new family, magic, title, etc.) I still often thought of my first friend in Camelot and hoping she is doing fine on her own without Merlin and I to protect her. The image of when she was captured during the Afanc incident and how defenceless she'd been to help herself as a lowly maid. She'd hinted at having new romantic feelings for someone before I left so hopefully that will have flourished and he'll have protected her. Who knows she could even be married?

The rocks are starting to hurt my feet through my worn boots but I don't dare complain giving everyone's present state of mind, I turn to my little sister beside me to see her steely determination as we approach the crest of the hill that shows the beautiful citadel of Camelot. I remember that she has a death sentence hanging over her and I clutch her hand protectively drawing her closer. "It'll be ok." I whisper softly but I have a feeling everyone hears me. Her pale face cracks a small smile of gratitude and she squeezes my hand in reassurance.

"I know."

We're all silent for a few moments until we come to the crest of the hill and look for the first time on what feels like a life time at the castle of Camelot. The sun is just beginning to set behind the ivory towers and the warm glow extend to our party who were gazing down on wonderment at the beautiful sight.

Arthur summed it all up in one perfect word. "Home."

Ambrosia smiled and took my other hand as if to lend support. "We're not there yet and it's getting late. We better press on if we want to make it by nightfall." There is no acknowledgement of her words other than the simultaneous movement. Only Arthur remains frozen.

I go to go to him but Merlin pulls away from my grip and walks over to the banished prince. Without a word of sympathy and just a look of understanding she pulls him into her arms and for a moment they stay like that. Framed on the hill crest in their embrace by the beautiful, green forest lit by dying sunlight before the city that holds such pain and memories and pain for both.

Then Merlin breaks away and fixes Arthur with a caring look and trails her hand across his face. His eyes close briefly at her feather light touch. The hand then takes his and she gently pulls him to our waiting group. Nobody comments on the little display, not even Gwaine, and we continue as if nothing happened. Only now Merlin is holding Arthur's hand not mine.

Cenred's POV

The High Priest approaches my throne with a swift bow and then he raises his eyes to meet mine. They're cold, hard and determined and I feel the blood rush through my veins as I know what this means. War. My favourite word. "I hope your armoury is well stocked, Cenred." I grin at the young man but his next words almost make me jump for joy at our good fortune. "For Camelot lies without a king."

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