Arthur clung to the shadows in the alley as he crossed from one street to the next, a hood pulled low over his head. He'd opted to come alone, knowing the larger the group the more likely they were to be found.

It had been nearly a week since the incident at the museum, and the police were getting closer to them with each passing day. Their group had finally managed to put some semblance of a plan together, and unfortunately, this was the first step.

The winter chill left a sharp sting on Arthur's cheeks as he paused at a corner, seeing a flash of lights in the distance and hearing the high whine of a siren. Gwaine and Percival had evidently succeeded in their part of the plan for the evening, which was far from fair, as Arthur felt they had gotten the best task out of them all.

Ducking his head, the man jogged across the street towards the next alleyway while a lone streetlight glimmered off the blade of the sword strapped at his side. It was an ancient thing hanging from an old belt, several of which had been stashed away in a storage facility that Merlin had been keeping for years.

By the time they'd been dug out, the edges were dull and rusted, and the men had spent the better part of two days getting the weapons in somewhat functioning order. They'd done their best, and the blades weren't as sharp as Arthur would have liked, but they hadn't had the time or space to keep working so they'd decided they would have to do.

Passing the next street and glancing at the sign, Arthur listened carefully for the sound of people or cars in the distance. A large building complex housing multiple flats stood before him, and one on the second floor with their light on was calling out to him. He was nearly there. Of course, sneaking about was going to be the easiest part of his night, and he was not looking forward to what, or rather who, awaited him on the other side of that door.

Spending a few extra seconds than necessary listening for noise, Arthur finally hurried across the street to the front door of the building. The flats could only be accessed from the inside, but he'd come prepared, pulling the little bottle of dust that Merlin had given him from his pocket.

Sprinkling it over the doorknob, Arthur took a deep breath and whispered the single word that the warlock had made him practice for five straight minutes. "Aliese."

The sound of the lock disengaging on the other side sounded, and Arthur turned the knob easily and stepped inside the building. Keeping his hood up and turning away from any watchful cameras, the man quickly made his way up a set of carpeted stairs and moved through the second floor until he reached the last door at the end.

Taking a breath to prepare himself, Arthur lifted his hand and knocked twice, the noise echoing down the empty corridor as he dropped his hand and waited.

And waited.

And waited even more.

Shuffling his feet and glancing behind himself nervously, he was about to knock again when another lock disengaged and the door partially opened. Standing in the small opening with a chain blocking part of her face stood Morgana, eyeing the blond with a look of distaste.

"What do you want, Arthur?" Her voice was irritated and tired, and he took note of the dark circles beneath her eyes as he cleared his throat.

"Hello, Morgana."

"What do you want, Arthur?" She reiterated, stressing each word as if he were hard of hearing.

"Can I come in?" He asked, glancing behind him again while the woman let out a heaving sigh.

Closing the door in his face, Arthur listened to the chain sliding free before the door opened again and Morgana moved to the side with a frown. Stepping inside her flat, Arthur pulled down his hood and looked around, letting out a low whistle as he did.

Her home was small, with only one bedroom like Merlin's had been, but the place was decorated with expensive, yet tasteful, pieces. Artwork hung on the walls, large windows covered by thick drapes stood out against an immaculate paint job, and a massive television was positioned across from the softest looking sofa the man had ever seen.

"Nice place." He uttered, turning around to face her as Morgana's expression remained annoyed.

"Aren't the police after you?"

"For murder, yes. The problem is that I never killed that guard."

"And you're here to accuse me?"

"I think you did it, yes." Arthur stated bluntly, watching the woman's eyes flash in anger. "However, Merlin is convinced you didn't."

"I didn't." Morgana snapped, pushing past him and walking further into her home.

"Then explain to me what happened, because I still have no idea why I'm being chased around accused of murdering a man I've never even met!" Arthur's voice was practically a shout near the end, and Morgana folded her arms with another glare.

"Why should I help you? You come in here, into my home, accusing me of murdering someone?"

"You'll help because if you are innocent you'll want to clear your name." Arthur pointed out, only for the woman to laugh in his face.

"My name isn't the one needing cleared." Morgana stated, picking a remote up off her table and pointing it at her television.

The moment it came on it she muted it, leaving only the reporter on the screen with a small picture of Arthur displayed in the top right corner.

"Don't you think you owe us?" Arthur scowled, ignoring her triumphant smirk.

"I owe you nothing, you stole the throne in Camelot from me!"

"You never deserved the throne, or the people." Arthur stated, and Morgana suddenly threw her hand out at him with her fingers splayed. The man flinched, but when nothing happened, the woman dropped her hand with a huffed breath. "What was that?" He asked, confusion washing over him as Morgana frowned, tucking her arms back around herself.

"I keep forgetting I don't have my magic in this time."

"Hah! You're powerless!" Arthur laughed, the sound bouncing off the walls in the small space as Morgana's expression turned deadly.

"I may not have my magic, but I have other things at my disposal." The woman uttered quietly, taking a step closer as the man snorted.

"Like what?"

Taking another step closer, Morgana threw her hand out again, only this time it was curled into a fist, and it struck Arthur straight in the stomach. Bending over from the pain and wheezing, Arthur stumbled back, clutching his middle while stars danced throughout his vision.

"Like that." Morgana stated as Arthur fumbled for his sword.

"You—"

"Do you want answers or not?" She asked, giving him a look of warning.

"Fine." Arthur grit out, wheezing again as he lowered his hand away from his weapon.

A few minutes later the two of them were seated across from one another at Morgana's dining table, both with steaming mugs of tea in front of them that neither had yet to touch.

"Well? Start talking."

Pressing her lips together into a thin line, Morgana finally let out a breath and began. "I was put in charge of the exhibit early on, with the benefactor of our collection hand picking me the moment they decided to donate to our museum."

"Why?" Arthur asked, resting his arms on the table as the woman shrugged.

"I don't know. At the time I'd simply thought it was because my research into the legends and the knowledge I had was well known. I thought I'd made a name for myself already."

"And now?"

"Now I know who the benefactor was." Morgana's smile had turned weak, and for a moment it pained Arthur to see the disappointment in her eyes. Though the feeling didn't last long as his next question left his lips.

"Mordred?"

Morgana nodded, a different expression similar to grief flashing across her face before it was gone.

"Where did the sword come from?"

"It was dug up from a dried lake somewhere in the area. For whatever reason, that piece of information was very vague."

Arthur nodded, falling silent for a moment before his next question came out. "Are you in on all of this with Mordred?"

"Would I be speaking with you if I were?" Morgana stated, tracing a fingertip around the rim of her mug, though both of their drinks remained untouched.

"You could be trying to trick us." Arthur pointed out, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back while the woman let out a quiet laugh.

"Please, Arthur. We're not children anymore."

"Were we ever?" Arthur asked, his voice turning soft as Morgana's eyes met his.

"I was, here. In this time, I was raised by a kind and loving mother, and our home was filled with fairy tales and new age magic. Not the stuff of old, as we once knew, but a rekindled power that some here manage to draw to life. I was happy, and loved, and I have no reason for vengeance and anger here."

The words seemed truthful enough, but Arthur found it difficult to believe her, what with how evil she had once been.

"When did you remember?" He asked, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

"I was very young. I've had both lives in my head practically my whole life. My mother had helped, she knew something was different about me from the moment I was born."

"And it never bothered you, everything you did? All the pain you caused, all the death?" Arthur asked, anger rekindling inside him as he stared at the woman who had singlehandedly made his life a living hell in another time.

"Oh, it did. But there's this thing called 'therapy' nowadays. Perhaps you should look into it." As Morgana finally took a sip of her tea while giving the man a pointed stare, Arthur just glared.

"How did the sword go missing that night?"

"Mordred must have gotten inside the exhibit and cast an illusion." Morgana shrugged, tapping a single finger against her mug. "Of course, I don't know how he managed the magic. And I don't know where the sword is now, by the way."

"And what about the poison that nearly killed Merlin?" Arthur demanded, hating how nonchalant she was acting about the whole matter.

"A trap no doubt set by Mordred to go along with his illusion."

"All very convenient, don't you think? Why were you even there?" Arthur scoffed, only for the woman to roll her eyes.

"I work there, Arthur. It's my job to keep an eye on things when an exhibit first opens. Not to mention I knew how important this exhibit was going to be. I knew you'd show up sooner or later, and most likely at night."

"No one else was there but you, also convenient."

"Except for the multiple security guards who patrol the museum each night." Morgana uttered dryly.

"So what, you're telling me that you knew each one of them? Even the one who died?" Arthur arched a questioning brow at her, and Morgana's expression darkened.

"The man who died was named Phillip, and he was engaged. I'm in a book club with his fiancé, who is devastated over what happened." Arther found he had nothing to say after that, and Morgana let out a frustrated breath. "Mordred is trying to use me, or frame me, or who knows what else. I had nothing to do with any of this, and Mordred hasn't even contacted me directly. I didn't even know you were alive, Arthur, not until a few days ago. Or that Merlin was even living in the city right now."

"Very likely story." Arthur grit out, though he hated the fact that logically everything she said made sense.

"I don't care if you believe me or not." Morgana scowled, picking up her mug and snatching up his as well before getting up and setting them on a counter.

"I don't." Arthur muttered, though that wasn't exactly true. "But Merlin does."

"And what exactly does that mean?" Morgana asked, turning to face him.

"It means I'm going to have to trust that you won't kill any of my friends this time around."

At that, the woman smiled faintly. "No promises."

A/N

Is Morgana secretly good? Is there hope for a sibling relationship? Or perhaps a romantic one between a witch and a wizard? Who knows! Things are getting spicy though.. so hold onto your hats for the next one!