+Hey, guys. I've decided that I'm going to set Tuesday as my update day so that I don't feel so guilty for randomly updating. However, if inspiration strikes, I may update twice a week but who knows? I guess it's cos these upcoming chapters are getting more plotty now which requires a lot more thought from me. But don't worry! Even if things don't make sense now, they will in times to come; I've got it all figured out ;) Okay, so this chapter is going to be longer than the last because I need to get this one out. But it's quite angsty so be prepared. And Dark!Merlin is going to be properly explored in a few chapters so don't worry, the confusion will not last! Reviews help my muse!+

Rage still pumping through his veins, Arthur walked up the familiar stone steps of Morgana's chambers. He needed to push his anger aside, however, for it would not do to comfort her when he was feeling like this. His first priority (as always, these days) was Morgana. He could not imagine how she must have been feeling right now but the mere thought of it made his heart clench as he stepped up towards her door.

"Go away!" she called through it, her voice cracking in the middle of her shout.

But of course, he ignored her.

She needed him; no matter how hard she tried to deny it. That was the thing with Morgana; she claimed to be strong all the time, to be fearless, to be unbreakable. But that was only because she was already broken.

And Arthur knew that better than anyone. He could still remember the day that she had first arrived to Camelot and how she, only a little girl at the time, had run up to her chambers, her face hardened with sorrow. But then, he had come to her just as he did now and he could still remember the faint sounds of her sobs through the door.

Pressing his hand against the wood, he carefully shifted it open and stepped inside to see her curled up on her bed in a rather childlike manner. "Morgana..."

Morgana peered over her shoulder, emerald eyes speckled with red; they looked so sore from crying. "Do you not know the meaning of 'go away', Arthur?" she snapped, turning back around and burying her face in her pillow.

If they were in another situation, Arthur might've laughed. She was so fiery even when suffering a setback like this. But he didn't, he merely smiled fondly down at her before closing the door behind him and walking over to her bed. "Budge up," he said, rolling himself onto the sheets, giving her shoulder a playful shove.

Morgana groaned and pulled the covers over her face. "Gods, Pendragon, will you ever leave me alone?!" she whined but he could tell that she was not truly mad.

For he heard the smile in her voice, however faint it may have been. "The day that I do will be the day I die," he murmured, his voice low but gentle as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pressing a kiss to her hair. "Come here..."

Easily, she slipped into his arms, burying her tear-striped face in his chest as she relished in the warmth he brought her. "I hate him," she hissed, her chin quivering some.

Arthur let out a sigh, shaking his head. "I know." It was difficult; he was-...somehow having to choose between his father and Morgana. But he couldn't; he loved them both the same, only in different ways. He carefully lifted his hand to smooth down her ebony hair, dragging his fingers through the waves. "I'm so sorry he did that to you, Morgana. And to Guinevere. I know how much you care for her."

Morgana sniffled, shaking her head. "There was nothing you could do. And you tried; that's all that matters to me, Arthur." With that, she tilted her head slightly so that she could offer him a smile but he did not return it.

For he caught sight of the red bruises on her neck from his father's fingers and it made his blood boil, teeth gritting against each other. Nobody touched Morgana, and nobody dared to hurt her. Not whilst he was around. But yet again, he was faced with the problem of having a choice between her and his father. And he'd be damned if he knew the answer or at least if he wanted to accept it. "Nonetheless..." he trailed off, sighing deeply. "I'll not let him do it again." Realising that it-...hurt too much to see her wounded like that, he carefully distentangled himself from her embrace and stood, moving over to the window. She stood there so often that he hoped it may give him the guidance and hope that it seemed to give her. But all it brought was the vision of Guinevere and Lancelot being thrown quite violently out of the city gates. He tutted, looking to the floor. "Lancelot was a good and loyal knight, as was Guinevere loyal to you as a maid. And they were both good friends of Camelot. How could he repay them this way?" His fist was clenched as he spoke. "If it were not for Lancelot, he would be dead. And if it were not for Guinevere-...you would be dead."

He looked to the floor as he thought about it; who would look after Morgana when he was away on training and suchlike? He knew as well as she that she was perfectly capable of looking after herself but he felt safer to know she was not alone. And granted, in a large castle such as this she could never be properly alone. But she deserved to have someone who cared for her with her at all times.

Morgana was clearly lost in the same thoughts as she stood to see them leave, sighing. "I remember when Lancelot first came to Camelot. So young, so handsome." She would have smiled at the twitch of jealousy portrayed in Arthur's lip were they in another situation but the heaviness on her heart was too much to bear. "Lord knows what convinced him to save Uther after how he had treated him. Calling him a commoner and claiming that to affect his bravery. I suppose he had always had the bravery of a Knight of Camelot; I could see that from the first time I laid eyes on him..." she trailed off from her musing, looking down at the window ledge. "A-And Guinevere, well-..." She bit down hard on her lip as a lump once again rose in her throat. "Arthur?" she started, looking up at him. "I need you to do something for me."

Arthur stepped forward and took her slender hands in his strong ones. "Anything," he said sincerely.

"I-...I want to accompany them out of Camelot. They are my friends, they are our friends, Arthur. I at least need to know that they are safe. And that they-...that they will have a new home. Somewhere where they can live happily and away from this tyranny," she said, her voice getting stronger by the second as she clenched her jaw determinedly.

"Morgana-..."

"Arthur, please. I need to do this; it is the only way that I will feel-...better about all of this. I need you to do this one thing for me," she said, dragging her thumb subconsciously across his knuckles. "Please."

Arthur looked as if he was still going to protest but judging by the look on Morgana's face, there would be no point. She was as stubborn as he was and he knew that he could never say 'no' to her even if he tried. Especially after what she had been through. Especally after she had trusted him enough to tell him her secret. He could never be grateful enough for that. He sighed and shook his head with a wry smile lighting his lips. "You'll be the death of me, my lady."

She couldn't help but giggle and smiled sweetly at him. "I know." With that, she pressed up onto her toes to kiss his cheek. "Thank you, Arthur. I shan't be long; I'll be back just after supper. I don't expect Uther will expect me to turn up to that, anyway. If he asks, I'm certain you'll think of something."

Pulling the hood further over her head, Morgana looked in the mirror in her reflection before it was greeted by a welcome face.

Arthur came up behind her and rested a hand on her shoulder. "Now, are you sure you want to do this?" he asked, his voice tainted with worry but his jaw fixed.

Morgana nodded, nibbling her lip. She couldn't deny that she was somewhat nervous but it was only because she was going to have to say goodbye to Guinevere-...her maidservant, her best friend, her rock. But then she had Arthur beside her; perhaps he would be her new rock. He was always the thing that kept her sane, that kept her standing.

"Then you must go. They'll be waiting," he said, turning her around, hands still on her shoulders. "Come back safely to me," he said, offering her a gentle smile before he tilted his head down to press a kiss to her forehead.

Blushing despite herself, she quirked a brow at him. "Doubting me, Arthur?" she teased.

He chuckled."How could I ever?" he asked warmly before he gave her a playful shove away. "Stop wasting time, Le Fay."

Morgana laughed, rolling her eyes. "Goodbye, Pendragon," she said, scrunching her face up at him in reply before she swiftly made her way out of the door and down the corridor, not noticing Merlin lurking in the shadows and watching her go.

"And you are certain she'll be there?" Kilgaharrah rumbled as he looked down at the young warlock.

"I saw her leave myself, my lord," Merlin replied, his eyes darkening. "Morgana will be on Camelot's borders by nightfall. Alone." Apart from Lancelot and Guinevere, of course, but they would not be a problem. Not after Merlin had spoken to them; he had a way with words, he could easily get them on their side. The right side. Especially after what Uther had done to them. Why should they have any loyalty to Camelot when it did not return it? That was, after all, why he was now against the kingdom. Not Arthur, not really. But if he proved to be a-...problem then perhaps that would change.

Nothing would stand in the way of his plans.

"Good," the dragon sneered, his lips pulling over his teeth in a devilish grin. "And she will not return. You must see to that, Merlin. Do not fail me. This is your chance to prove your loyalty to me."

Merlin nodded, his heart thumping in his chest.

Had he not already done that through turning against his own kingdom, his friends, his family?

But all the same, he gave a small bow of his head before walking back towards Camelot.

"You did not have to come with us, Morgana," Guinevere said, smiling softly over at her friend. They were all so tired but they had to keep going. If they were found within Camelot's borders before the day had passed, they would be immediately sentenced to death. Especially if they were found with the King's ward; he would most likely accuse them of having kidnapped her or Morgana would be on the recieving end of his cruel hand of punishment.

"Oh, do not speak such nonsense, Gwen," Morgana chided but her voice was pooled with fondness. "I-...I could hardly let the two of you go without a decent goodbye. Especially after all you have done for me." She reached out and took both of their hands, squeezing them. "You mean more to me than you could ever realise."

Lancelot merely smiled to himself; he was a man of very few words and none would suffice to show how grateful he was to Morgana. Although she had never said, he knew that she played a major part of his being knighted. After all, it was common knowledge that she had Arthur wrapped around her little finger and also that she was the only one who could convince him to defy his father.

"Now, come along," Morgana said brightly, trying to lighten the mood. "Tell me all about this."

"All about what?" Lancelot enquired, quirking his brow.

"You and Gwen," the young ward said playfully, returning the look on his face. "I'm most intrigued; I never even-...would have guessed...I did not know you two even spoke to each other, let alone being in love."

Guinevere was smiling to herself, a blush flooding over her freckled cheeks. "Love finds us in the most peculiar of times and places, my lady. You know that better than most."

Morgana choked on her own air as she said that, her attention immediately captured by Guinevere's words. "Wh-what? What's that supposed to mean?"

Gwen looked at her mistress incredulously, dipping her head. "Oh, come on, Morgana. You think we have not noticed?"

"Noticed what?" Morgana asked, hands on her hips as she stilled their walk.

"W-well..." Gwen trailed off, thinking that she had spoken out of turn. "You and Arthur."

Morgana gaped at her, eyebrows shooting into her hairline. "There is nothing going on between Arthur and I. What could poss-..."

But then something happened that caught all of them off-guard. A loud battle yell echoed around the forest as at least a dozen men stormed through the trees, swords raised. They were utterly surrounded. Lancelot pulled his sword from his sheathe but he had not noticed the bandit behind him who used to hilt of his sword to hit the Knight on the back of his neck, rendering him unconscious immediately.

"Lancelot!" Gwen cried, rushing towards him only to be pulled back. "Let me go!" she shouted but was silenced as a cloth was held over her mouth, the smelling salts flowing into the very crevices of her mind as her vision began to blur and she went limp in the man's arms.

And then that only left Morgana who had watched the entire scene with wide eyes. "D-Don't come any closer," she said, raising her hand and ready to strike with magic if needed.

The men laughed, one stepping forward who she assumed to be the leader. "And what would you do, my lady? You have no weapon," he mocked, raising his arms.

"I do not need one," Morgana replied with the same tone before her eyes flashed golden but her confidence was shortlived as a sudden burning sensation washed through her entire form, her magic shooting straight back at her. She looked down at her hands, twisting them back and forth as confusion riddled her mind. But her unasked question was answered as the leader held up a stone.

"Your magic has no power here, witch," he spat, stepping forward menacingly as her eyes filled with dread before suddenly, all was darkness.

The fire crackled as Arthur Pendragon's boots paced back and forth in front of it, occasionally stopping to grip the edge of the fireplace and look into the flames as if they would offer him any sort of support. For Morgana was the light and the flame in his life that was ever-present in his heart. But it seemed that physical flames could not replace the mystery and wonder that was-...her. He huffed, pulling back once more as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I knew I should not have let her go. How could you have been so bloody stupid?" he snapped at himself.

"Strange. That's something I ask myself everyday," Merlin's voice came from behind him and Arthur quickly looked up.

"Have you ever heard of knocking, Merlin?" Arthur scolded as he moved away from the fireplace to brood in his chair, a hand holding up his chin.

"I have but I choose to ignore it. Quicker that way and it means I catch you off-guard," Merlin said playfully as he walked towards him, leaning against the bedpost. "What's wrong?"

Arthur sighed, closing his eyes. "Nothing..." his words came breathily as he huffed out another sigh.

"Really? 'Cos it seems to me that with that grump and pout on your lips, there is," Merlin said, his eyebrow lifting. "Come on, tell me, clotpole."

Arthur hesitated. Should he really tell Merlin? He has promised Morgana that he would not let on to Uther but-...not Merlin, surely. He was hardly going to run and tell the King, was he? He let go of the arms of the chair before standing and walking over to his servant so that he could speak to him privately. "Morgana's gone with Guinevere and Lancelot. She wanted to say goodbye," he murmured.

Merlin had to pretend as if this was the first time he had heard such news and raised his brows. "Really? Well, why are you so worried? Isn't that a good thing? She's doing what she wants."

"Yeah, and she's been doing so for hours. It should not have taken her this long..." the young prince trailed off to bite at his lips. "I should go after her," he decided, moving over to his chair to pull his jacket from it.

Desperation filled Merlin's eyes but luckily his master was turned from him and he stepped forward. "I'm sure she's fine," he hurriedly said. "You worry too much, Arthur. Morgana is perfectly capable of looking after herself." But he hoped if his plan was to succeed that his words were not true.

"No, Merlin, I worry exactly the right amount," Arthur snapped, rounding on him. "I-...I don't know what I would do if anything happened to her. And I'll not let it happen. Not now, not ever. Is that understood?"

For a moment, Merlin's hard exterior settled at seeing the Prince's heart but it was quickly returned. How dare he speak to him like that? He was to be the most powerful sorcerer in all of the Earth; he deserved to be more than this. More than a servant. But that was what he was working towards and he had to remember that. The most patient were the most heavily rewarded.

Arthur sighed, shaking his head. "I'm going after her, Merlin. And that's the end of it." He pulled a satchel over his shoulder and made his way towards the door. "And I would hope that you would come with me."

Hate burned in Merlin's eyes as they looked out of the window but he quickly forced himself to replace it with warmth and a smile as he turned to face him. "Someone's got to protect you, you ass."

"Morgana!" Arthur's voice echoed throughout the forest as he and a disgruntled Merlin trudged through the rain.

"Morgana?" Merlin muttered half-heartedly, hoping that they would be too late but then he spotted it. The cottage where the bandits that he had hired lived was right before them.

And Arthur had spotted it. "Let's look in here. Perhaps they stopped to get out of the rain."

Merlin reached forward and pulled back his hand. "No, Arthur, it's not safe," he said fiercely.

Arthur turned on him, a frown prominent on his face as he pulled his arm from his servant's grasp. "Merlin, it's a cottage. Hardly dangerous." He eyed his friend for a moment before tutting and making his way over. He pressed his hands against the glass and peered inside before he was greeted with an image that sent dread rolling through him to his soul; Morgana was tied, unconscious to a chair. "Merlin!" he virtually screamed as he punched through the glass to reach around and let himself in. "She's in here!"

But Merlin did not run to his aid. How could this have happened? How could they have been so stupid to leave her alone?

"Merlin!" Arthur roared once more as he hurried to Morgana's side, falling to his knees before her. "Morgana...Morgana, speak to me, can you hear me?" he muttered worriedly, trying to hide how much his hands were shaking as they cupped her cheeks. Her small mumble alerted him that she was alive and it sent waves of relief through him but he was just grateful that he had got there. If he had been a moment too late, she could have caught hypothermia or anything-...anything could have happened to her. "You're safe now," he said sincerely, lifting her up into his arms bridal-style, her hair falling over his forearm. He turned to go back to Camelot when a clunk told him that something had fallen to the floor. With a frown, he turned but then his eyes widened as he saw a large stone on the floor. It looked like a sorcerer's stone but that was not what worried him. What worried and scared him was the word clearly written in blood on it.

WITCH