“I think this ointment gets more foul-smelling with each batch.” Uther complained as he wrinkled his nose. Gaius let out a soft chuckle as he continued to spread the mixture on Uther’s inflamed shoulder.

“I don’t believe so, sire,” Gaius replied. “I just think you forget how much you dislike it each time.”

“That could be true,” Uther mused. His gaze then went to table in front of him where his crown sat upon a pillow. “What do you think about creating an alliance with the Viroconians, Gaius?”

Gaius shrugged.

“If you feel that it’s necessary than I’ll support you in any way I can-“

“That’s not what I asked you, old friend.” Uther interrupted. He pulled back so that he could look at Gaius squarely. “I asked what you think about it. Do you think it to be a good idea?”

Gaius slowly replaced the cork in the bottle of ointment as he considered how to reply. In truth, Gaius thought it was all a mistake; the alliance, and furthermore, Uther’s war against magic. But he knew that despite Uther’s attempt at asking for guidance, he wouldn’t want to hear these things.

“I think that there are definite benefits to having such a strong nation on our side.” Gaius said carefully.

“But?” Uther asked intuitively. Gaius let out a deep sigh.

“But, they are known to be quite a brutal nation, who tend to act with little forethought. They have many enemies.”

“Yes, but they are also feared and respected,” Uther stated. “If word were to spread that such ones were allied with us, then others would fear and respect Camelot as well. We would not have to worry about reports that malicious rogue wizards were running about.”

Gaius watched as Uther’s face darkened with his words. Uther had never fully reconciled the fact that Morbius had gotten away and worse, had nearly bested Camelot first.

“There’s still no word on Morbius then, I take it?” Gaius asked, and Uther grunted.

“We don’t even know if the reports were accurate.” Uther said tightly. “It was dark, it’s quite possible that the witnesses were mistaken.”

“Yes, it’s possible.” Gaius agreed. Uther looked up at him.

“But you don’t think so, do you?” Uther asked. Gaius sighed.

“I can’t imagine why Morbius would be so careless as to come back to Camelot, especially after all he lost here. Surely he would know that it would be suicide.” Gaius said.

“You think men like Morbius to be sane? Sensible? He tried to overtake my kingdom – he wanted to starve us all to death! A mad man takes no care, Gaius!”

Uther stood up, pacing the room.

“He blames me for the death of his daughter, Gaius,” Uther continued. “It wouldn’t surprise me if he came back to Camelot to try and exact his revenge on me, or worse, Arthur.”

“All the knights are on the watch for him, sire.” Gaius soothed. “If he truly is here, I’m sure that they’ll find him and deal with him before any harm comes to you or your son.”

Uther looked back at Gaius then, his face a mixture of anger and uncertainty.

“I hope you’re right, Gaius.” Uther said finally. “For Camelot’s sake.”

~*~*~*~

It was more than he anticipated.

Morbius knew that he would feel something when he returned to the very court that he’d coveted for years, but he didn’t expect it to be like this. The familiar walls and tapestries and faces that surrounded him tonight brought back a host of emotions, many of which he never thought he’d feel again.

Part of him was angry, another part comforted, and yet another part still excited. But the predominant emotion was grief. Sadness over his precious little girl, Olivia. How she used to love the music and dancing at these gatherings. She should be there now, he thought. Married to a nobleman and happy as she danced in the king’s court. But that was not to be. Instead, she was ripped from this world, far too early and far too young.

By Uther Pendragon.

Arthur had not yet been born then, so perhaps Uther did not understand just how deep and soul-binding a bond could be between father and child; or how gut-wrenching the death of the child could be. But he would know soon. Right before Morbius destroyed him and took the throne that he long deserved.

“The Lady Morgana.”

Morbius turned to the voice of the crier who announced the noble arrivals. He watched as the crowd parted, and soon saw a vision with long dark hair and eye so piercing that he could see them at his distance. The royal blue of her dress only served to magnify her beauty and the grace with which she walked hypnotized him. He vaguely remembered the daughter of Gorlois. He remembered hearing that Uther had taken her as his ward. She’d been no more than babe in arms when he’d been driven from Camelot. But seeing her now, it was as if time had stilled and he looked upon her mother’s countenance. Morbius stroked his chin as he considered how she would look sitting at his side on the throne. Perhaps it wasn’t too late for him to be a father again.

His eyes then went to the woman who walked behind Morgana. The way she hung her head and kept her eyes lowered told him that she was a servant, and yet, there was something…regal about her air. She was draped in a deep red dress that warmed her almond colored skin. Dark, playful curls dropped from her upswept hair, and her russet eyes shone against the candlelight. Indeed, the Lady’s handmaiden was quite beautiful as well. Perhaps he would have to take two wives.

“Stop your gawking and get me my food, boy.”

Morbius recoiled at the gravelly voice that filled his left ear. He turned to see one of the Knights, who stood a good foot taller than him and significantly wider standing beside him. The look on his face was demeaning and indignant; the face that most noblemen gave to servants. Morbius had almost forgotten the horrid blonde youth’s body he was currently in. With great effort he held his tongue and nodded before heading towards the kitchen. It was past time for the knights to be dispatched of anyways. He flashed a hateful glance at Uther, who sat on his throne whilst talking to one of the Viroconian soldiers, before slipping away.

~*~*~*~

“Gaius!”

Merlin burst into the chamber, the door slamming behind him. Gaius started at the loud sound, nearly dropping the parchment he was reading.

“For the love of-“ he began but Merlin dashed in front of him, thrusting his open hand before his face. 

“I think I found it!” Merlin announced. “I think that this may be the root of what’s happening with Arthur, Gwen and Morgana.”

Gaius peered curiously at the crushed bloom in Merlin’s palm.

“What is this?” he asked, leaning in. But Merlin snatched his hand back.

“Careful! I’ve seen a strange green mist come from it, and I think it might be magical.” Merlin warned. “Have you ever seen it before?”

Gaius shook his head slowly.

“No, I don’t think I have.” He answered. “Where did you get it?”

“From this boy that I bumped into in the castle. He was holding it and then it let out that strange mist and then his eyes flashed green, just like Arthur’s did. And then he tried to find Arthur to fight him.”

“What?” Gaius asked, clearly confused. Merlin shrugged.

“I don’t know the whole story, all I know is that he somehow thinks that Arthur’s stopping him from being with someone named Tara, and I’m fairly certain he was about to challenge Arthur over it. I stopped him in time, but I grabbed this.”

Gaius walked over to the long wooden table that currently held his books. He pulled out the book of magic that sat at the bottom of the pile, opening it to the section that contained plants.

“You wouldn’t have happened to get the name of that plant from the boy, would you?” Gaius said feebly as he turned the pages. Merlin’s forehead scrunched in concentration as he thought.

“Wait – the boy did say something about it. He called it a…a…Veri…no, a… Villa – a Vena-“

“Venustas?” Gaius volunteered as he turned the pages more forcefully. Merlin opened his eyes and snapped his fingers.

“Yes! A Venustas flower!” Merlin confirmed. “You’ve heard of it?”

Gaius finally landed on a page that had the intricate drawing of a bloom that looked identical to one in Merlin’s hand.

“I’ve heard of it, but never seen one until now.” Gaius said absently. “According to this, the flower is extremely rare; it only grows in two known places, both of which are quite a distance from here. It only blooms once every three years, and its essence has been known to free people of their inhibitions.”

“So it can make people act in a way they normally wouldn’t?” Merlin asked. Gaius nodded.

“Indeed. It would make one less shy about expressing their inner emotions, perhaps even act on them.”

Merlin paced towards the window, his hand going to his jaw.

“But what I’ve seen with Arthur and Morgana seems far worse than that.” Merlin muttered. “It’s like…it’s more like an obsession. All Arthur talks about is Gwen and Morgana is…well, determined.”

“Wait,” Gaius said, his eyes returning to the book. “It also mentions here that with the right incantation, the potency the essence can be intensified, thereby increasing the reaction to it. It can get to the point of causing unorthodox behavior and even…”

Merlin stopped pacing and faced his mentor.

“Even what?” he urged. Gaius looked up, his face grave.

“Murderous anger or jealousy.” Gaius finished. “This isn’t good, Merlin.”

“Morbius.” Merlin breathed. “This must be his doing. He’s the only one who’d have the power to enchant the flower like that.”

“Oh dear,” Gaius said. He’d gone back to reading the book. Merlin frowned.

“Now what?”

“It continues on saying that the effects of the essence are so potent that it can be transferred via physical contact.” Gaius read. “That means that-“

“The spell it casts can be put on someone else…simply by touching them.” Merlin finished. “That explains why Morgana is acting this way. She was fine at breakfast this morning. She must have gotten it from Gwen.” Merlin shook his head firmly. “How do we break the spell?”

Gaius’ wizened finger traced along the page as he searched for the answer.

“Ah, it says that one can make an antidote from the stem of the very same flower that can reverse the effects,” Gaius answered.

Merlin looked down at the bloom. It couldn’t have had more than a small pinch worth of stem attached to it.

“I don’t think we’ll have enough stem here to make antidotes for Arthur, Gwen and Morgana.” Merlin said.

“Other than that,” Gaius continued. “It says that we can crush the petals of the flower, enchant the powder, and make sure that the affected people inhale it.”

Merlin gaped at Gaius.

“Enchant the powder?” he repeated. “As in, perform magic, right in front of Arthur and Morgana and Gwen?”

Gaius looked up and shrugged.

“It seems that’s our only alternative.” He stated. “It would take several days ride to get the stems we’d need otherwise, and heaven knows what may transpire in that time.”

Merlin let out a heavy sigh. He knew Gaius was right. The way that Arthur was behaving, Uther would surely have him and Gwen jailed soon. And if Morgana kept up her pursuits, Merlin would find himself in more forms of trouble than he cared to address.

“Morbius must have had a reason for planting this flower in Camelot,” Gaius said after a moment. “I can’t think that he won’t act soon. We need to get this spell lifted before more people are afflicted.”

Merlin nodded solemnly. Once again, he would just have to find a way to save Camelot without anyone finding out about it.

~*~*~*~*~

Arthur’s heart caught in his throat. She was so beautiful. How had he not noticed so much before? Everything about her, from the shy way she nodded at those that greeted her to the warm reddish glow that emanated from her bronze skin called out to him, making him love her even more.

He abruptly left the boring conversation he was having with his knights when he caught sight of her entering the hall. The royal red of Camelot draped over her gave her an air of majesty that he couldn’t turn away from. When she looked up and caught his stare, she broke into a smile that he could only describe as a burst of sunlight. He ignored the comments and attempts of the courtiers to get his attention, closing in on his target. Within seconds, she was before him, and he quickly took her hand.

“I’ve missed you.” He said sweetly when her eyes met his. She broke into a wider smile that caused him to smile too.

“And I you, sire.” She replied. Arthur shook his head.

“No, you’re to call me Arthur now. Just Arthur.” Gwen giggled.

“Alright ‘Just Arthur’.” She said.

“Dance with me.” He started to pull Gwen away, but she hesitated, her eyes floating over to Uther.

“Wait – what about your father?” she asked. Arthur shrugged.

“What about him?”

“Well what will he think? He’ll surely be angry if he sees you dancing with a servant – especially in front of honored guests-“

“I don’t care what he thinks.” Arthur said firmly. “My father will have to get used to seeing us together. After all, he’ll be seeing a lot more of it once we’re married.”

Gwen’s eyes widened as her mouth fell open in surprise.

“You –“ she stuttered. “You want to…marry me?” Arthur took her other hand into his and leaned in.

“Of course I do.” He replied. “I love you, Guinevere. I won’t be satisfied until I have you all to myself. I want us joined at first light.”

Gwen’s eyes began to shine with unshed tears. Her smile was blinding, but then started to fade when her eyes found Uther again.

“But your father,” she began, but Arthur put a finger to her lips to silence her.

“Don’t worry about my father, Guinevere. I’ll handle him.” Arthur reassured. “Everything will be fine, my love. I won’t let my father or anyone else stand between us, do you understand?”

Gwen’s smile reappeared with renewed hope.

“Yes, Arthur. I will never doubt you again.”

Arthur responded by placing a small kiss on her hand before leading her away. Neither heard the sound of shattering glass as Tara dropped the urn of wine in her hand.

“Marry her?” Tara growled through clenched teeth. She began to breath heavily as she thought of Gwen putting her hands all over her Arthur. The thought made her sick and angry all at once. Her first thought was to rush after them and push Gwen out of the nearest window. But then She then looked up and saw Uther,  and her eyes narrowing dangerously with a new plan.

She turned and made determined steps towards her King, ignoring the sting of the broken glass slicing through her shoes.

~*~*~

“Not now.” Arthur grumbled at the tap he felt on his shoulder. He had no desire to speak with any of the knights or courtiers; he only wanted to be with Gwen.

“Where’s Merlin, Arthur?”

Arthur stopped begrudgingly at the voice. It was Morgana’s, and judging by her tone, he knew that she wouldn’t give him a moment’s peace until he acknowledged her. He let out an impatient sigh as he turned to face her.

“I don’t know, Morgana.” He answered plainly. Morgana folded her arms.

“But he’s your servant? Why wouldn’t you know?” she countered.

“Because he’s quite capable of wandering off on his own.” Arthur snapped. “I’m his master, not his keeper. If you want to find him, go look for him yourself. Now if you don’t mind-“

“Have you tried Gaius’ chambers?” Gwen volunteered, looking concerned. Morgana shook her head.

“No, I don’t want to risk running into the old codger again and having him interfere” Morgana replied, pouting.

“Don’t fret, my lady.” Gwen soothed. “Merlin loves his stomach too much to resist this feast. I’m sure he’s around here somewhere. Have you tried asking one of the guards if they’ve seen him?”

Morgana shook her head.

“I hadn’t thought of that.” Morgana admitted. “But that’s a good idea. Thanks, Gwen.” Morgana reached out and squeezed Gwen’s shoulder.

“Right, now that that’s settled,” Arthur said impatiently. “We’ll be on our way, then.”

Morgana looked between them as realization dawned on her. She gave Gwen a sweet smile and nodded at them.

“Of course. You two have fun.” She said. Arthur barely nodded back before turning and pulling Gwen behind him. Gwen gave Morgana an excited ‘thumbs up’ before hurrying after Arthur. Morgana stared after them dreamily for a moment before her gaze settled on one of the knights standing near a table covered in food. She walked up to him, ignoring the greetings of courtiers as she passed them.

“You there,” Morgana said as she approached him. The knight was deep in conversation with another knight, and paid her no mind. Morgana stepped up to him and grabbed his arm. “I’m talking to you!”

The knight staggered slightly, his eyes fluttering closed as he swayed on his feet. A moment later, he looked back to Morgana, his eyes fading from a bright green before he focused on her. His face then melted into a sappy grin.

“My lady.” He purred, putting his hand over the one she had on his arm. Morgana glanced at it before looking into his eyes.

“Have you seen Arthur’s servant, Merlin tonight?” she asked. The knight shook his head.

“How could I? When I only have eyes for you?” he replied, his voice distant. Morgana drew back.

“Excuse me?”

“How is it that you can be so very exquisite?” the knight continued. “With eyes like emeralds and the hair of a raven.  I imagine this is what the angels must look like.”

“Sir Gareth! Get a hold of yourself!” the knight that he’d been speaking with earlier stepped closer to them, his eyes wide with disbelief. “This is the king’s ward!”

“And the commander of my heart.” Sir Gareth added, lifting Morgana’s hand to his lips. Morgana quickly drew her hand away.

“How dare you!” Morgana gasped. The other knight stepped in front of her, putting himself between she and Sir Gareth.

“I think you’ve had too much wine, Gareth.” He stated. Sir Gareth’s eyes darkened as he focused on his kinsmen.

“Are you trying to come between me and my love, Sir Alain?” Sir Gareth growled, his hand falling to the hilt of his sword. “That would be ill advised. Now move.”

Sir Alain shook his head.

“You need to retire for the knight, Gareth, or I shall take this to the King.”

“I said move!” Gareth took a step towards Morgana, but Alain took her wrist and moved her out of the way.

“Touch me and you will spend the rest of your days in the dungeon, Sir Gareth!” Morgana hissed when she righted herself. “Sir Alain, take this man into custody!”

Gareth drew back, his hand now firmly gripping his sword as he looked at Sir Alain. Alain looked unsteady on his feet, his eyes closed.

“Sir Alain?” Morgana asked when he remained still. Alain sighed deeply before opening his eyes, which flashed with green light as they settled on Morgana.

“Hmm?” Alain asked. Morgana frowned.

“I said to arrest Sir Gareth!” Morgana repeated. “Immediately!”

“You’re so beautiful when you’re upset, did you know that?” Alain replied, his face settling into a dreamy smile.

“What?” Morgana asked, disbelief clear on her face.

“How dare you speak to my woman this way!” Sir Gareth growled, stepping towards Alain. Alain tore his eyes from Morgana to glare at Gareth.

“Your woman? Ha! You must be joking. This fair maiden belongs to me! So unless you fancy being run through I suggest you leave.“ Alain threatened, grabbing Morgana’s arm. Gareth watched the action through wide eyes before pulling his sword from its sheath.

“Unhand her or I will remove that hand permanently!” Gareth warned. Alain pulled Morgana behind him and drew his own sword, his eyes flashing with anger.

“You walk dangerous ground, Gareth! Knight or not, I will cut you down!”

“You’ll not stand between us!”

“Stop this!” Morgana cried. “I belong to neither of you! My heart belongs to Merlin! Merlin, do you hear me!”

“She is mine!” Alain yelled before swinging his sword at Gareth’s chest. Gareth stumbled back, barely missing the tip of the blade. His eyes narrowed before his arm wound back and swung a returning blow, which Alain caught with the base of his sword. The people around them began to draw back, muttering and gasping at the spectacle. Morgana rolled her eyes before walking towards another guard that was heading towards the fighting men.

“You there! Have you seen Merlin?” she asked, grabbing his arm as he tried to walk by. The guard’s steps slowed before he finally stopped, teetering on his feet. By the time he turned to look at Morgana, she was ready to yell at him.

“Have you seen Merlin?” she repeated impatiently. He shook his head.

“No, I haven’t.” he replied. “But I have seen a true vision of beauty. My dear lady…my love…”

Morgana’s eyes widened as she recognized the same sappy look in his eyes.

“Unbelievable!” she muttered as she spun on her heels and stormed towards Uther’s throne.

~*~*~*

“Your majesty?”

Uther was still laughing at the joke one of his knights had just told him when he turned towards the mousy voice. He took in the plain looking servant girl who stood before his throne, her head bowed.

“What is it?” he asked flippantly.

“My apologies for the interruption, sire,” Tara said. “But something has come to my attention that I believe to be too important to keep from you.”

Uther’s smile faded as he sat upright in his chair.

“Speak.” He ordered.

“It’s about your son, my lord. Prince Arthur.” She began, her eyes slowly making their way to his. “I fear that he may have been…seduced.”

“Seduced?” Uther repeated. “How do you mean?”

Tara took a tentative step forward.

“I just overheard him speaking with Morgana’s maid, Gwen.” Tara continued. “My lord…I heard your son speak of…marrying her.”

Uther stared at the young woman intensely for a moment, before bursting into a hearty laugh.

“Oh for heaven’s sake.” Uther said when he composed himself. “You had me genuinely worried for a moment.”

“But my lord-“

“You obviously misheard.” Uther said, all humor gone from his voice. “My son would never say such a thing.”

“I assure you my lord that what I say is true.” Tara defended, her face indignant.

“You are treading on very dangerous ground, servant.” Uther warned. “Lying about the crown prince is considered to be treason. And I’m sure you know the penalty for that.”

“I swear to you, King Uther, I know what I heard!” Tara said, bowing her head again. An idea then occurred to her and she looked back up at him, doing her best to look terrified. “I…I fear that the prince may be…bewitched.”

Uther inhaled sharply and Tara could tell that hit her mark.

“That’s a very serious accusation.” Uther said stiffly.

“Yes, sire, but it’s the only explanation.” Tara cried. “Why else would your some claim to be in love with someone like Gwen?”

Uther shifted uncomfortably, obviously considering Tara’s words.

“Do you…have proof of your claim?” Uther asked carefully, gripping the ends of his throne. Tara turned and glanced into the crowd, until she finally saw Arthur and Gwen walking towards an exit.

“See for yourself, your highness.” Tara said, turning back to Uther. “Your son takes her away even now, likely to be wed in the cover of darkness.”

Uther’s eyes went to where Tara had been staring. His jaw tightened. As he watched his son weaving his way through the people – with his arm around Gwen and hers around him. Everyone was watching! Uther stood, his anger bubbling up into his veins.

“Don’t let Arthur leave!” Uther growled to the knights on either side of him. “Take Morgana’s maid into custody and my son to his chambers until I can deal with him.”

The knights bowed to Uther before hurrying down the steps to follow his orders. Uther glared angrily for a moment more before looking back to Tara. She kept her head bowed, biting on her lower lip to keep from smiling. Her plan had worked. Uther would surely have Gwen executed for witchcraft, leaving Arthur free. Soon, Tara thought, soon Arthur would be hers.

“Thank you for bringing this travesty to my attention.” Uther said as he approached Tara. “Your loyalty will not go unrewarded.”

Tara raised her head when she felt Uther’s presence in front of her.

“I was only doing my duty, sire.” She replied. “But if you feel you must reward me, then I wouldn’t mind–“

“What in the world…?” Uther’s attentions were drawn to the loud crash of a wooden table hitting the floor.

There were screams from several of the guests, and the shrill clash of metal against metal. He could only catch glimpses of his men and various Viroconian men swinging their steel or being thrown about.

“Is this the way you treat your honoured guests, Uther Pendragon?”

The voice came from a large, broad dark haired man with long, stringy hair that fall beyond his shoulders. His jaw was covered in an unkempt beard and his brown eyes blazed in anger down at Uther.

“Tabor,” Uther said, tearing his eyes from the scene to look at the burly mass that was the captain of the Viroconian army. “Why is everyone fighting? What’s happened?”

“Your men are attacking mine, that’s what’s happened!” Tabor rumbled. “You invite us to a feast and then ambush us like cowards! Is this some sort of deception used to weaken us?”

“No!” Uther cried. “I assure that there was no plot against you.”

“My lord! The prince is being attacked!” One of the knights came rushing to the king, his eyes wide with worry. “Everyone seems to have gone mad! They’re all fighting – it’s madness!”

Uther looked back at his dining hall, shaking his head at the confusion. People were running around, screaming and ducking while others were at each others’ throats. Several of his knights were fighting each other, Viroconian soldiers and at least two were attacking Arthur, who had Gwen tucked behind his back.

“Arthur! No! I won’t let them hurt you!” Tara screamed before running into the fray.

“Get down there and defend my son at all costs, do you hear me?” Uther ordered the frantic guard. “Slay anyone who tries to hurt him – knight or not.”

“Yes my lord.” The knight bowed before turning to head back to into the folly.

“What sort of trickery is this?” Uther muttered to himself as he drew his sword.

“The kind that reeks of revenge.”

Uther turned quickly to the adolescent voice that spoke behind him, startling him. A young, blonde haired boy standing behind his throne with an unsettling, twisted smile on his face. He wore a black robe and cape that Uther somehow found familiar.

“What are you talking about?” Uther demanded, turning his sword towards the boy. “What are you doing back there?”

“Simply observing my handiwork.” The boy said, stepping closer to Uther. Uther stepped back instinctively. “I have to say, this turned out to be far better than I planned. Who would have thought that one little flower could cause so much trouble.”

“Flower?” Uther asked. But then he firmed his grip on his sword and narrowed his eyes. “This is all your doing? You – you’re a sorcerer! Identify yourself!”

“What? You don’t recognize me?” the boy asked, his face set into a frown. “You hurt me, Uther. After our long history together…I feel so, unappreciated.” The boy theatrically threw an arm across his forehead. Uther let out a guttural growl.

“Guards! Seize the boy! He’s an enchanter!” Uther ordered. One of the guards closest to Uther turned and headed towards the boy but the boy raised his hand in the air.

“Nean Gefaran!” The words hissed out of the boy’s mouth and his nearly black eyes flashed gold. Uther then turned as he heard the sound of several heavy thuds behind him. His eyes widened in dismay as he saw that all of his knights, Tabor and many of the other guests had fallen to the ground and now lay completely still. The remaining guests howled in terror before scurrying desperately for the exits. Uther turned back to the boy, swallowing against the fear that rose in his throat.

“You – you killed them? All these people?” Uther stammered in horror. But the boy laughed.

“Oh, no. Nothing quite that drastic.” He said, again stepping closer to Uther. “They have all ingested an extract I added to the food earlier. My little spell simply activated it one of the side effects. Don’t worry, they’re just in a very deep slumber. Unless you’d like me to kill them-”

“Enough!” Uther said, doing his best to hide the tremor in his voice. “Release these people and leave my kingdom at once!” The boy clucked his tongue and shook his head.

“You’re really in no position to be ordering people about, Uther.” The boy said petulantly. “You forget that your most precious possession is still here, under my spell and completely vulnerable.”

Uther followed the boy’s gaze to see him staring at Arthur, who lay on the ground unconscious beside Gwen. Uther felt his fear turn into a knot deep in his stomach.

“Why do you do this?” Uther demanded.

“Because it is deserved.” The boy answered, his voice shrill with anger. “You must pay for what you’ve done, Uther. You must know the pain of losing a child…just…just as I have. I will take from you what you have taken from me.”

Uther peered curiously at the boy. He knew from the looks of him that he seemed too young to have fathered a child, let alone one old enough for Uther to have ordered to death. Yet there was something about him that struck Uther as familiar; something about his words that struck a chord deep inside of him. But Uther did not know why he felt this way, and he was quickly losing patience.

“For the last time, identify yourself sorcerer!” Uther screamed, raising his sword.

“Gladly.” The boy replied. “Feorgbold Gecynde!”

The boy’s voice seemed mangled with the words, as though it were mixed with someone else’s. Uther then gaped in horror as he watched the boy’s body twist and contort as his facial and body features changed. His blond hair streaked into dark brown, his arms and legs lengthened, his skin paled and spotted. The face that was once round with youth narrowed into one thin and angular, with a nose that resembled a hook and thin lips devoid of color. The only thing that remained the same were the coal-like eyes. Soon, the tremors stopped, and the newly realized man stretched in his true body.

“Morbius.” Uther breathed, shaking his head in disbelief. Morbius set his cold eyes on Uther.

“I guess your memory has returned.” He mocked. “For what little good it will do you now. We’ve come to the end of this part of my journey.”

Uther continued to shake his head as he stumbled back. He had no one – no guards or even Arthur to assist him in defeating this warlock. He knew well how powerful Morbius was all those years ago. Uther could only imagine how much more powerful he was now.

“So that’s it?” Uther asked, still backing away. “You’re just going to kill me and my subjects as an act of revenge for my refusing to give you a place at my right hand decades ago?”

Morbius threw back his head and laughed, the action causing his dishevelled hair to float wildly.

“You actually think that this is all about a pathetic seat on your council? By God, the years haven’t changed your incredible arrogance, have they Pendragon?” Morbius spat. “Being part of your wretched rulership is of no interest to me, nor what I came for.”

“Then what did you come for, Morbius?” Uther asked.

“For what’s rightfully mine. This kingdom should have been mine, and after your death, I shall have it.” Morbius promised. Uther looked quickly around the room.

“These are my people, Morbius,” he said, centering his sword. “They are loyal to me. Will you kill them all for my throne?”

“Your people are fearful of you, Uther.” Morbius argued. “They serve you because they have nowhere else to go. Your mad campaign against magic has granted you more enemies than allies. Besides, any who decide to die with you are more than welcome to it.”

Morbius’ eyes then went to Arthur’s motionless body.

“But first, I must exact the vengeance due for the innocent life you took.” He continued, his pale hands balling into fists. “You will watch your only son die before I rid the world of you forever.”

Uther’s fear was quickly replaced by anger. He would not lose his son to this treacherous sorcerer. He would die first. He lifted up his sword and lunged at Morbius, but Morbius was ready for him. Without moving his eyes from Arthur, Morbius raised his hand and Uther stopped immediately, frozen to the spot.

“That was unwise, Uther.” Morbius stated, slowly turning to him. “I was going to make the boy’s death painless. But now…now you’ll have to watch him suffer first.”

“No!” Uther grunted, fighting with all his might against the invisible holds that restrained his body.

“Oh yes,” Morbius said. “And make no mistake; I will be sure to tell Arthur exactly why he has to suffer and die. He’ll know who is completely responsible for all the pain he will experience. I may even tell him the truth about his birth, just for fun.” Uther grunted again as he vainly tried to charge Morbius again. “Indeed, Uther, the last memory you that you shall have will be of your son’s dying screams.”

“Let him go, Morbius!”

Morbius started at the voice the boomed through the hall. He turned to look and caught sight of the tall, thin figure of its owner. It was him. The little warlock that caused so much trouble.

“Well, well well. If it isn’t Arthur’s pet.” Morbius said with a sinister grin.

“Release the king, Morbius!” Merlin yelled as he stepped further into the hall. His eyes swept the room, seeing the dozens of people lying across it. His heart fell into his stomach as panic set in. Was he too late? Had Morbius already killed all of these people? His eyes then settled onto a familiar blonde haired body and his breath caught in his throat.

“Arthur!” he choked as he stepped towards him. He stopped abruptly when he heard Uther scream. He looked up just in time to see Uther’s body fly across the room, slamming into an opposing wall. Uther slid to the ground and slumped over, unconscious.

“Don’t touch him!” Morbius ordered, pointing to Arthur as he stepped down from the throne landing. “Arthur is mine.”

Merlin looked back to Arthur. He saw then that the prince’s chest was rising and falling slowly, and he let out a breath of relief. Arthur was still alive.

“You care for the Pendragon boy, don’t you Merlin?” Morbius asked as he approached. “How very sad for you.”

Merlin turned back to Morbius, his eyes hardened with renewed determination.

“He’s done nothing to you.” Merlin said. “And neither has Uther. What happened to Olivia was an accid-“

“Don’t you DARE speak her name!” Morbius roared, causing Merlin to flinch. “You were not even born when these things occurred! You know not of what you speak!”

Merlin raised his hands in surrender backing away.

“You don’t need to do this,” Merlin said cautiously, changing tracks. “You can leave Camelot now and never return. Uther will never find you. No one else has to die.”

Morbius chuckled bitterly as his eyes narrowed.

“You truly are naïve, young warlock.” Morbius spat. “It’s still a wonder to me that someone so oblivious was able to defeat the great Nimueh.”

Merlin froze at hearing the witch’s name. He had believed that only he and Gaius knew that he’d been the one to destroy her…or that she was actually dead.

“How…how did you know-“

“She made the mistake of underestimating you, but I will not.” Morbius interrupted, ignoring Merlin’s question. “All you need to know is that since it was your magic that took Nimueh from this plane, it will be your magic that will bring her back.”

Merlin shook his head, frightened by the possibilities of Morbius’ words.

“You can’t bring Nimueh back. She’s dead.” Merlin said, his voice sounding weak even to him. Morbius’ lips quirked up in a smirk.

“You’re quite wrong about that, Merlin.” Morbius sneered. “If you don’t believe me, ask your friend; that miserable old dragon.”

Merlin faltered. Morbius knew about the dragon? Would the dragon confirm what he’d just said? Merlin’s head began to spin as fear formed in his heart.

“I don’t believe you.” Merlin whispered. Morbius smirked again.

“Yes you do.”

“It’s not possible…You can’t…I - I won’t help you. I won’t help you bring Nimueh back.” Merlin stuttered. “I won’t.”

“You have no choice, Merlin.”

“I’ll die first.”

The smirk on Morbius’ face faded then, and was replaced by an angry mask that shook Merlin to his core.

“As you wish.”