There was a soft warm breeze through the forest, snuffing out Diarmuid's flame in an instant. He silently sighed as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He still hadn't caught the identity of the cloaked figure, but he'd followed them deep into the English woodland. They'd probably been walking through the forest for a good twenty minutes by then. The moon was at first quarter, and there was barely any useful light emitted from it, which made it harder for Diarmuid to follow in silence. In fact, it wasn't long before he stepped on a twig, cracking it under his weight.

The figure froze before turning around. Diarmuid had enough time to conceal himself behind a thick tree.

"Who goes there?" The voice of a woman spoke and it took him a little over a second to realize who was the person sneaking around.

"Morgana?" Diarmuid made his presence known as he emerged from the tree.

"Diarmuid?" Morgana was puzzled, she brightened the flame at her fingertips. "What are you doing here?" She furrowed her brows.

"I could ask you the same. Why are you sneaking around like an assassin? I could've killed you." Diarmuid replied as he sheathed his sword.

"You nearly killed me of fright," Morgana sighed. "I have urgent business to take care of, now please go back to the palace."

"Urgent business?" Diarmuid raised an eyebrow as he echoed. "In the middle of a hot night with an autumn coat on? Seems rather suspicious…" He stepped towards her.

Morgana turned away, casting nearly black shadows on half of her face. "This is something I must do alone, Diarmuid."

He shook his head. "I don't like the sound of your voice. I ought to go with you."

Morgana glared at him. "No," she snapped, "I will be going alone."

Diarmuid gave her an even look. "No, it looks to me as if you're headed to the slughter. You need someone with you right now." He was a foot away from her now. "I can see it in your eyes."

Morgana rolled her eyes. "I never pegged you for the dramatic type."

"You look exhausted, your eyes are sunken in, I can't possibly let you go on alone."

She sighed. "Fine, you can come with me if it makes you feel any better." She turned towards the path ahead of her and continued her way through the forest. Diarmuid followed after her silently, making sure not to disturb her whatsoever.

The walk was silent for the most part after that, Diarmuid had only asked where they were headed and she responded with an honest answer. She didn't tell him why they were headed there and he didn't ask. She wasn't sure what they'd find in the cave anyway, but she was searching for answers nonetheless.

After walking for a longer while, they finally stopped at the small opening of a cave deep in the thicket. The opening was circular and the stone was dark and smooth. Diarmuid had never seen anything like it; the entrance was nearly a perfect circle; proving it was nowhere near a naturally formed cave, which then led to his curiosity. Sure, Morgana was an enchantress, but why was she in front such an odd cave in the middle of the night.

"I'll head in by myself, it gets a bit small in there," Morgana said as she looked over Diarmuid's height.

"I don't mind crouching," he said plainly.

She frowned. "I wish to go there alone. Wait here, and if I don't return in an hour or I call for help, then you have my premission to aid me."

Diarmuid seemed to consider her words for a while before he nodded in agreement. "Very well, be careful in there."

Before morgana left, she made a torch for Diarmuid and then headed into the deep darkness of the cave. Her fingers grazed over the stone wall of the cave as she stepped through it. The light that her fingers emitted was enough to light her path, but as she continued, the cave got smaller and smaller, to the point she had to crawl through an area to reach an open cave chamber.

She stood in the large chamber in awe for a few seconds. The chamber was filled with white crystals that reflected her magic light. Morgana was sure they were quartz around her, but she couldn't be certain. She closed her eyes and focused her energy into feeling the presence she felt in her dreams. Who was the blonde that kept appearing in them calling out to her? Why was she calling out? Was betraying her sister really her destiny? She shuddered at the thought.

Morgana reached out to a crystal and once the pads of her fingers grazed the quartz, a vivid image burned into her eyelids. She could see herself glowering at Artoria, who fought someone on top of a hill. There was smoke and chaos around them, as if they had been engulfed in the fiery pits of hell. She could see the bloodshed and distruction around herself, the men dead at her feet, the fires in every direction she looked. However, what scared her the most was the smile that stretched her lips; the laugh that was erupting from deep within herself. Morgana drew her hand away and took a gasp of air, not being able to handel the joy her heart felt at that vision. She nearly hurled in disgust.

Why was there something within her that was happy to see such a horrid sight?

She evened her breath and held the hand that touched the crystal, which was shaking profusely. Her eyes caught sight of a glowing crystal. Morgana reached for it instinctively.

"Oh, my sweet, sweet, sister…" a blonde woman in front of her grinned. She'd never seen such a woman but she knew it was the same one from her dreams. "Why do you reject your destiny?"

The woman walked through the flames of a hellfire. "Come to me," she spoke tenderly as she opened her arms wide. "I will comfort you, I will help you reach your destiny."

Morgana stepped back, drawing her hand to herself as if the flames in the vision had burnt her. Dread coiled within her and the urge to know more overpowered her. She reached out to another quartz and yet another vision invaded her senses.

She felt the soft cushion under her, the warm light of the sun on her face and her head heavy. When she opened her eyes, she recognized the pillars on either side of the grand room, the stained glass windows on the left of the hall. She knew very well the intricate patterns of the standards and the velvet arm rests of her seat. She was in the throne room, the crown on her head and satisfaction flowing through her veins.

"All this and more, dear sister. Isn't this what you want?" The blonde was now next to her. "Queen of Camelot."

Morgana's heartbeat quickened and the longing in her heart grew stronger.

"Will you always be in the shadow of Arturia?" The blonde coaxed, her voice right next to Morgana's ear.

Morgana's eyes blurred over.

"You are meant to be queen," she lulled, "you are first born, you are more powerful than that pesky king will ever be. Take. Your. Place."

Morgana was back in the cave, goosebumps formed over every inch of her skin and a chill ran down her spine. Queen? She had never desired such a title, she'd always been content with being princess, she never coveted her sister's throne. So why? Why was this woman telling her she would do just that? Morgana was stumbling back, away from the many oracle crystals that surrounded her, they were pulsing with an eerie glow, calling to her to see a little more of their prophecies.

"No!" She called out. "I won't become your pawn!" She screamed out to the oracles around her and the mystery woman. "I have a choice, and I choose to be by my sister's side!"

The cave shook beneath her, the sounds of rumbling echoed around her and vibrations ran through her body.

"YOU WILL FULFILL YOUR DESTINY!" A thousand voices boomed around her, filling every crevice of her mind. "YOU WILL BE THE DOWNFALL OF ARTURIA PENDRAGON!"

She was frozen for a second, until she noticed a few rocks falling from the ceiling of the cave. In an instant, she hurried out of the cave, squeezing through the now smaller hole and through the entrance. She was out in no more than a few minutes and as she ran out of the entry way, she crashed into Diarmuid.

Diarmuid managed to hold her steady and they didn't topple to the floor.

"Morgana, are you alright?" He asked, holding her by the shoulders so as to steady her.

Morgana was panting, her breath shallow and quick. She held a hand to her chest as if to keep her heart in check. She looked dreadful; her wavy hair was disheveled and sweat glistened on her forehead. Her pale green eyes were much more sunken in than they had previously been, and her lips were quivering, in fact her whole being vibrated.

"I…I…" She could barely form a sentence. "There was–" she gasped for air.

Diarmuid didn't pressure her at all. Instead, he brought her into a gentle hug, assuring her she was alright, that he could keep her safe from whatever was in the cave.

"I-I need to see Arturia," she stuttered as she pulled away from Diarmuid. "I h-have to talk to her."

Diarmuid nodded in agreement. "Right away?" He asked.

She nodded in reply.

On their way back to the palace, Diarmuid did his best not to pry and simply held onto her to steady her as she tried to calm down. Whatever she had encountered in that cave had greatly unnerved her to the point that such a strong enchantress was in shambles.

Arturia sighed as she stared at the canopy of her bed above her. She thought of Diarmuid's words. "Let me belong to you, and you alone." She could hear his voice so clearly in her mind. Her heart beat quickened at the simple memory of his heartfelt confession, the butterflies in her stomach fluttered and her lips drew into a smile unconsciously.

"I'm being silly," she mumbled as she sat up. Arturia knew what her heart wanted. She wanted to be next to him every second of every day. She wanted to be with him more than anything in her life; she knew she was being foolish and selfish, but she couldn't help but love him. She wanted to hear his voice until her least breath, she wanted to hold his hand within her own, she wanted to never part with him. She yearned for him so much so that her heart ached at the thought of him. In fact, she even considered it was not a healthy desire.

What would the kingdom think if she left Tristan for Diarmuid? What would her own sister think of her? Would she be labelled capricious? Would her word be distrusted? She held her head in frustration. She didn't want to think about these hard decisions, she didn't want to have to choose between her country and Diarmuid. The answer was already obvious.

Arturia hugged her knees and sighed. She pondered bringing it up to Morgana, but decided against it, knowing much too well that Morgana didn't quite approve of her relationship with Diarmuid. Maybe Merlin would understand…Would he be able to give her any advice on the matter? She wished to choose Diarmuid with every fibre of her being, but she wanted to be certain that if she did in fact choose him, Camelot would not be at risk.

A rapid knock on her door snapped her out of her thoughts. "Yes?" She called as she stood from her bed, pushing the thin flat sheet off herself. The door opened harshly and in stumbled Morgana, quickly followed by Diarmuid, who helped steady her.

The pure look of horror in Morgana's face was enough for Arturia to know that whatever had happened was serious.

Dear readers,

I cannot believe it's been 4 years and a half since I last updated this fic...wow time really flies. I want to assure you I never gave up on any of my stories, especially this one. I really hope you enjoyed this chapter and you forgive me for such a late update. I am a little afraid many of you have already forgotten about this fic, but for those still reading, I want to deeply thank you for all your support!

Sincerely,

Ms. Atomic Bomb