DELUSIONS

Synopsis: Set after 'Conflictions'. Still shaken by his uncle's betrayal, Arthur is determined to look ahead and plan his future with Guinevere. However, a familiar dark force descends over Camelot, forcing a change in the King. Can anyone help Arthur before the relationships that keep him stable are destroyed?

A/N. This fanfic is set after my first one 'Conflictions'(which now has a new epilogue and takes place after 'Lamia'). Please read that first to get a better understanding of this one – or don't, it's up to you! This is an AU and likely to be the second part of a trilogy…

Disclaimer: Again I do not own Merlin. I've tried shooting stars, birthday cakes and wishing wells – no such luck. The BBC does though. Own it I mean.

Chapter 1

Agravaine de Bois' body had been discovered the day after his death by a servant girl taking down his meagre meal of bread and water. After her vision had adjusted to the darkness of the dank cell, she found herself staring into Agravaine's cold, unblinking eyes. His usually smug face was twisted into an expression of pure shock. Once the servant girl had been pacified and the meal removed from the tunnel floor, the King had been informed.

It was not until a few days later - and after a hasty discussion with Gaius - that Merlin finally told Arthur he feared Agravaine had been working with Morgana. This revelation was met with silence.

"Did you hear me, Arthur?" Merlin asked him, worried by the blank expression on his king's face. Arthur sighed wearily.

"Yes I heard you, Merlin. I'm just tired of it all." Watching Arthur for a few moments as he visibly wilted behind his desk, Merlin regretted telling the young Pendragon so soon after his turmoil over Gwen's assault. Merlin knew that Arthur's emotions were still raw from the guilt he felt. That, combined with the fact that Arthur's only living relatives conspired against him, was sure to reignite his feelings of inadequacy. Deciding to change the subject before Arthur fell deeper into his thoughts, Merlin broached the topic he knew always brought a smile to the King's face.

"Have you managed to convince Gwen about the roses yet?"

Realising instantly what Merlin was trying to do, Arthur was all too happy to play along. Planning the upcoming nuptials was the only thing he genuinely felt happy about these days. Letting out a frustrated groan, Arthur rested his chin on his hands.

"No, can you believe it?" Merlin stifled a grin at Arthur's tone - if his subjects could see their King whining now. "She still wants violets, Merlin. Violets."

After recent events, the pair had decided to wait a little until the spring to have the wedding ceremony. In all honesty, Arthur would marry Guinevere tomorrow if he could, but something told him she was not ready. Instead he had suggested that they take time to plan, knowing that she liked to keep busy. Arthur's only obstacle now was convincing Gwen that a more lavish affair was in order, as she had taken a rather modest approach with little 'fuss'. What Arthur needed to make Guinevere understand was that she deserved the fuss.

"I still don't see what's wrong with them," Merlin shrugged, repeating the words he had said many times before to annoy Arthur. "Flowers are flowers." Arthur looked up at him in disbelief. This was Merlin's favourite part.

"They're not just flowers, Merlin. They're a symbol." Arthur paused as if to let the gravity of his words sink in. Merlin nodded quickly to signify he was listening intently. "Guinevere is special to me. I want every detail of the ceremony befitting of a Queen – even the flower arrangements."

Merlin watched Arthur rant on animatedly about the importance of the little details and smiled quietly to himself. Although he knew Arthur had not forgotten their earlier conversation, Merlin was happy to see his friend pleasantly distracted and close to his usual self. At least for a little while.

In the month that followed, the repercussions of Agravaine's betrayal resonated through Camelot. After Arthur's initial passiveness following the realisation that not only did his uncle despise him, he preferred his estranged half-sister, Arthur had sprung into action. He had ordered a nationwide search for conspirators and allies of Morgana or Agravaine and arranged their imprisonment. Most had been found, but Morgana herself was still proving elusive.

Though Arthur found it hard not to dwell on Agravaine's deceit, whenever he woke up feeling particularly melancholy Merlin was always there; bubbly and insistent that Arthur embrace the new day. However annoying his manservant became at times, Arthur knew he could not thank Merlin enough for sticking by him. He was one of the few constants left in his life aside from Guinevere and, for some reason, Merlin believed in him. It puzzled Arthur, as he feared he may never be the King Uther once was, but it always meant a great deal to him.

Morgana…

Morgana sat alone on the small bed in her empty cabin, listening as the strong winds forced her door to smack repeatedly against its frame. Winter was coming to an end and it was determined not to leave without a struggle. She shivered and wrapped herself up in her fraying, brown blanket.

As much as Agravaine had angered her, his death had had dire repercussions on her situation. Arthur's purge of Camelot after the incident meant she had no allies. Some were too afraid to oppose their King after he made it clear no mercy would be shown to traitors. Others suspected Morgana of Agravaine's death and could not bring themselves to trust her. She was stuck. Morgana was now even further away from gaining the throne of Camelot and consequently feeling very sorry for herself.

Morgana…let me in.

He was persistent, Morgana would give him that. The last month had been torturous. Her dreams were plagued by images of Agravaine's motionless body, leaving Morgana in cold sweats and questioning why the death of her uncle had affected her in this way. The incidents were usually followed by the voice Morgana had heard weeks ago, pleading with her to 'let him in'. Morgana had searched the vicinity around her cabin and found nothing that indicated she was being spied on. The early confidence in the young man's tone had waned over time as Morgana continued to resist. How was she meant to trust someone who would not even tell her his name? All he had said when she had asked was that he was 'a friend'. In her current situation Morgana found that hard to believe.

Morgana…please…

She tried to block out the voice, focusing instead on the howling winds outside, but Morgana was always drawn back to it. She could feel his presence inside her head; he wanted access to her thoughts. One of the benefits of being a sorceress was that she was better at keeping her inner being to herself. Morgana constantly had her barriers up – there was nobody alive she could trust anymore.

Guinevere sat in her cottage and carefully stitched together a baby quilt for the expecting couple a few houses away. Since Arthur had insisted that she discontinue her servant duties now she was officially his intended, Gwen found herself sewing a lot more to pass the time. She enjoyed the calm that came with each perfect stitch and liked to experiment with various designs – some more successful than others. A few days ago Gwen had attempted to create her own wedding dress, until Arthur had spotted it and laughed. Admittedly it was not her best work and although Arthur was immediately apologetic, Gwen could not help but become flustered at his reaction. Only when Arthur had swept her into a knee-trembling kiss did Guinevere forget what had previously upset her.

The wedding day was a fast approaching and Gwen could scarcely believe it was real. When she thought about their first kiss in this very room, Guinevere remembered how she had believed any possible relationship between the two of them was pure fantasy. Now she was set to become Queen of Camelot. Guinevere often wondered if the people would truly accept her once she sat on the throne. She knew there were nobles who were still uneasy about Arthur's choice of companion. Gwen hoped she had the strength to lead the kingdom as nobly as Arthur did – she wanted to make him proud. Perhaps her humble beginnings could be the key to understanding the people of Camelot and earning their respect.

Gwen looked wistfully around the small room she had called her home for over two decades. She would miss this the most; her haven, where she could relax after a hard day's work and forget the rudeness of some of the courtiers she had served. Soon, Guinevere would move into the castle and the last thing she could call her very own would be no more. After Agravaine's attack, Gwen had been apprehensive about moving into the castle and eventually Arthur's bedchambers. She had finally managed to enter the room without being overcome by nausea, but Gwen still felt anxious being there in Arthur's absence. Despite his eagerness to wed, she knew Arthur had sensed her hesitancy and delayed the proceedings. He understood her.

Setting aside her creation and wrapping her arms around her knees, Guinevere was content to sit there and think of her future husband. Words could not describe how much she loved Arthur, and at that moment in time, Guinevere felt like the luckiest person in the world.

Morgana's eyes flew open to the sound of screaming, unaware that it emanated from her own mouth. She was alone; she had nobody because she had killed the only person who valued her above Arthur. Agravaine was weak-minded and selfish, but he had chosen her when Uther had not.

Morgana!

Forcing herself to stop screaming, Morgana took in shallow breaths to try settle her racing heart. It felt like she had regressed back to the time when her magic was still alien to her. Morgana could not go back to being that person.

I can help you. I would never hurt you…let me in.

Morgana felt his presence caress her mind as if to assure her he meant no harm. It disturbed Morgana that she had never been particularly scared of the voice; in fact there was something oddly familiar about him. All she knew was that if she obliged him, something significant would happen and Morgana was doubtful she could cope with any more change. Her resolve weakened by fear, she slowly opened up her mind to him. Immediately Morgana felt a wave of calm wash over her. The images of Agravaine's dead body faded like distant memories and she welcomed sleep like a long-lost friend.

Thank you. He sounded relieved.

"Who are you?" Morgana murmured softly as she drifted off. Finally he whispered his name to her and Morgana smiled in her slumber. She was not alone anymore.

A/N. Quite a short introductory chapter, but I have it all planned out so please stick with me! I've decided to carry on with the same timeline as 'Conflictions' as I had such a good response and I didn't want to disappoint. Thanks to beadybonbons for previewing this and all future chapters. Updates should be weekly, but with Christmas holidays coming up, they may be more frequent. Please review/comment as I love to hear your opinions, positive or negative