WARNING: Some very small s3 finale spoilers in the last section!

Okay, last chapter!

Chapter Sixteen

Morgana doesn't improvise well, Merlin reflected to himself as he followed closely behind the worse-for-wear half-siblings. When her magic failed her and all her hired men died (except that one, but he wasn't waking up anytime soon), what did she do? Did she employ some clever talking to trick Arthur into accidentally getting himself killed? Did she put her plan on hold, figuring now that Merlin was dead she could wait for another day? Did she contact her sister for help?

No.

When she was on our side, she didn't improvise so badly, he thought. Being a vengeful witch doesn't suit her.

Even though she knew the first spell she tried to use on Arthur backfired, she kept trying to use magic, trying to use brute force to win what she'd obviously lost. Morgana didn't figure that something was wrong with her because none of her spells were working; she just kept trying.

It was driving Merlin mad.

Morgana glanced at Arthur out of the corner of her eyes and tried to use a spell that would incinerate him, which Merlin thought was just mean. He quickly doused the flames before they came into existence, seeing it coming because Morgana had a thing for fire. Arthur noticed nothing. Merlin wondered if this was really the prat who would be the great king that united Albion.

Morgana tried a spell that would have blasted Arthur against a tree. Merlin silently pushed Arthur a little farther ahead and the spell missed, glancing harmlessly of a tree trunk. Arthur noticed nothing. Merlin put his face into his hands with a quiet moan.

Does Arthur just think she's not doing anything because she still likes him or something? And he calls me an idiot.

It continued this way for a while.

Oh, for the love of Camelot, Merlin thought to himself. If this keeps up, I'll set her dress on fire again! And then, for a second, he smiled, remembering how she'd danced around beating at her skirt and making noises of alarm. Reminding himself that he had to focus, the smile dropped.

When they finally reached Camelot, Merlin wanted to throw himself at the ground and hug it. They were home. They were safe.

Well, safer. Morgana was still plotting, of course, but Merlin could live with it. The only difference from when they left Camelot, as far as Merlin knew, was that now Arthur was in on the loop. And Morgana would soon know that he was, but that he wasn't going to tell anyone. And so things would go back to normal, mostly.

Besides, Merlin was hungrier than he was the time Arthur killed a unicorn and all the plants died and grain rotted. Camelot meant dinner.

Now Arthur and Morgana were entering Camelot on foot, and knights and guards were beginning to surround them. Merlin hurried to catch up so that he could be in the crowd when his master beckoned.

Morgana could've gone straight to her room, but instead she chose to go to Uther so she could tell her story to him when he was finished with Arthur. And, also, she wanted to see what Arthur told him about the trip.

Arthur explained to his father how he lost his horse to the forest and his knights to the bandits. Uther interrupted there to tell him the horses had arrived back in Camelot and men were out looking for any sign of those missing. As he said this, Morgana noted without pity the haggard look on his face. He must have been worried sick. Arthur then continued his tale, mentioning Morgana's story (Morgana nodded and tried to look pitiful), and concluded that the bandits were disbanded and the majority dead.

Morgana noticed that he didn't say a word about where his manservant was, and Uther, being Uther, didn't ask. She wondered why he hadn't told his father that part. Was the memory painful for Arthur? Was he protecting Gaius, perhaps? Was he trying not to spark his father's paranoia and magic-is-evil spiel?

Uther then nodded his gray head, looking more relaxed than he had in days now that his traveling offspring were home. Turning to Morgana, he asked, "Do you have anything to add?" She didn't, so he dismissed them all, saying that Arthur and Morgana no doubt needed sleep. He also told Arthur to go to Gaius for the injury on his arm and the knot on his head as soon as possible.

"I don't know about you, but I'm tired," Arthur said to Morgana as they started down the hall and away from the crush of people near the castle of Camelot.

Morgana sighed, feeling the tension of seeing Uther draining away, and started to agree, thinking to herself that she would meet Morgause tonight.

Then Arthur, not listening to her, said something that made her question his sanity. He yawned a bit, looked back in the crowd, and then said, "Where is that useless manservant…? Merlin, come on."

Morgana's mouth dropped open, but before she could say a thing, she saw something that made her question her own sanity: Merlin stepped out of the crowd and walked up to Arthur.

"Sorry, Sire," he said, scratching his neckerchief-less neck. "I wanted to tell Gaius I was back."

Arthur immediately responded, "How did you make it back so quickly from the physician's chambers?"

Though Morgana was still staring, not processing, Merlin understood what Arthur really meant: "Why the hell aren't you in Ealdor?"

Merlin shrugged. "I didn't think I should… loiter."

Arthur gave him a private glare that promised a lecture, but Merlin only smiled. Turning back to the flabbergasted Morgana, Arthur asked, "Is something wrong?"

Her mouth moved for a moment before sounds came out. "Wha…? I… I thought…"

"Oh, Merlin?" Arthur smiled, trying to keep it from turning into a laugh. No matter where her loyalties were, Arthur had always liked playing jokes on Morgana. He had to remind himself that this was serious. "I thought it was probably best not to tell my father about your… misunderstanding."

Her green eyes, which were taking in every inch of Merlin, snapped to Arthur, and the prince's expression immediately melted into a grave mask. "You…" She stopped and cleared her throat. Arthur knew about her.

The very idea sent a spark of alarm coursing through her, making her want to magic herself away. But wait… no… Arthur knew about her, but he wasn't going to tell Uther? Is that what he'd said? Why?

She looked back at Merlin and found him smirking at her, and she thought she found her answer. Merlin. He knew about Merlin, too, and he knew she knew about Merlin. That's why he was keeping her secret, so she wouldn't tell Uther. It was like a bribe, blackmail… A promise. A promise that she could remain above the law if he could.

He was allying himself with Merlin, then. Though it made her angry, it made sense. Merlin wasn't trying to kill him.

Merlin was not dead.

Morgana let that sink in. She hadn't tricked Arthur at all, then. The whole scene in the woods—faked. Probably Merlin's idea. And that's how Arthur managed to stay alive the whole trip. Morgana mentally growled. She really hated Merlin. She wanted to wrap her hands around that bare, bony neck and strangle him. She wanted to hit him with something very heavy, like a chair, and beat his head in. With difficulty, she managed to control her violent urges and regain her composure. She stopped gaping like a fish and straightened her back.

The witch gave Arthur an icy glare and saw him falter under it.

"Very well," she said, her tone clipped, her chin tilted back. She cast one last look at them – Merlin in his rumpled rags (minus the annoying scarf) and Arthur in his more expensive but now worn clothes, his sword at his side and a bandage on his arm – and she sniffed regally. "Neither of us mentions the misunderstanding." She smirked her signature smirk (Merlin couldn't pull it off half as well as she could) as she walked away, tossing her long hair over her shoulder. "We'll try to be clearer in the future."

Glowering and not knowing if her threat went home or not, she went to her room. She would talk to Morgause. For now no one would say anything to Uther, but she would have to strike quickly before the status quo changed. She wouldn't give up. She would be queen of Camelot yet.

Behind her, Arthur and Merlin watched her go. Arthur's face was sorrowful, and Merlin's was solemn but tinted with humor—after all, this was nothing new to him. And Morgana was just slightly amusing when she put on the theatrics; also, he was relieved to have gotten out of another spot of trouble alive, and relief made him want to laugh.

Arthur sighed and turned away. "We watch her." He didn't mean it to be a question, but it sounded like it.

Merlin nodded, agreeing. "We watch her."

Arthur began to walk down the hall in the direction of his chambers, calling behind him, "Coming, Merlin?"

Looking surprised, Merlin pointed to himself but didn't move his feet. "Me, Sire?"

Turning around, Arthur scowled, not getting Merlin's new game. "Of course you. You're my manservant after all; you follow me when I tell you to."

Merlin smiled. "Well, I did, Sire, but then you fired me. For the second time, actually. Remember?"

Arthur blinked, recalling the incident immediately. "I wasn't… I mean, I didn't… Merlin!"

Merlin treated Arthur to his signature goofy grin, and Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Fine, you're rehired."

"Now, hold on, Arthur. I haven't agreed to that."

Arthur began to slowly make his way back over to Merlin, standing as straight and tall as any knight could in all his fearsome power and strength. Merlin was less than impressed, and would not be cowed.

"What do you want?" Arthur asked suspiciously.

"Well, since in the last few days I've lost all of mine… New scarves. And a raise; I mean, do you even pay me nowadays? And we're going to need to renegotiate the mucking out—Ow!"

Merlin's yelp was due to Arthur's hand having flown through the air and clipped him on the back of the head. He rubbed at the spot, pouting while Arthur tried to contain a smile.

"Merlin?"

"Yes, Sire?"

"Shut up."

"Yes, Sire."

But the next day, Merlin was sporting a new, non-raggedy neckerchief. He didn't tell anyone where he got it, though, and no one thought to ask.

A week later, word came to the king in a report that a young woman, Emily by name, had disappeared into the night along with some of her prized possessions. Interestingly, though the king didn't think so, she was the wife of a guard named Paul, who (though again the king didn't put it together) hadn't been seen since he left Camelot the week before, guarding the Lady Morgana. However, the king could be forgiven for not thinking about this too much; he had bigger things to worry about than a woman going missing. Word had just reached Camelot that an entire patrol – which included Sir Leon – had been attacked. None of them had made it out alive, or so the people back in Camelot thought.

END

A/N: For those of you who didn't get it or haven't seen the s3 finale, that line at the end was to bring us to the next episode in the timeline. Also, in a review of chapter 1, PPitP requested this story be a "fluffy bunny/rainbow/unicorn/biting satire"fic. And I fit in the last one this chapter: mention of a unicorn. Well, that's it then. Do whatever it is you do when stories end… But please review. Since this is the last chapter, it would be wonderful to hear what you think one last time! Thanks for reading!