Author's notes: Friday, February 14th and I have succeeded in finishing this story on time to post. In a way, I am sorry to have reached the end, but I doubt I've said my final farewell to Merlin and Arthur. I think I did mention a sequel, if anyone would be interested in reading it.

I'd like to thank everyone who posted reviews throughout the months I've been posting and the followers and favourites I've picked up along the way. You have kept me going when I didn't think I had the time or the energy to keep writing. Reading reviews and knowing people are following my story gives me such a lift.

I've loved creating this story and giving the characters I loved a happier and more hopeful finale. I sincerely hope you won't be disappointed with this final chapter.

Again, I don't own Merlin, but I did enjoy borrowing them to write this tale.

Chapter Thirty-five

Memories To Keep

The storm had blown through during the night and the day dawned bright and clear, the sky washed blue with only lacy white clouds scattered across the firmament. Around them the grass appeared greener and, on the trees which fringed the village, the leaves were just beginning to tint with the colours of autumn. As they took their leave of the villagers, they felt the sun warm on their backs, lifting each of their spirits. On such a dazzling new day, it was hard to remain down-hearted.

Soon it was time for Bryce to leave them and Mary sent him off with messages for her husband and neighbours, telling them she would be home as soon as she'd finished the task she'd been happy to do... for Gwen and for Morgana, whom she'd come to know over the last few days and, against her expectations, had come to admire. It was hard to imagine that this considerate, delicate lady could have wrought such mayhem.

Yet sometimes the atmosphere within the confines of the wagon was overpowering and Mary would ride up front on the bench with Iseldir, leaving the ladies alone. Oft-times, she would hear a quiet murmur of talking.

At first, the conversation between Gwen and Morgana was reticent, yet as the hours and the miles passed by, they began to drift back to bygone habits, when there had been a deep bond of friendship.

Morgana began the thaw as she spoke on a sunny morning when Mary had chosen to stretch her legs. "I'm truly sorry, Gwen." There was no answer, and Morgana thought her companion might be asleep, but she tried again, twisting herself as best she could on her bed to watch Gwen's face. "I know I've no right to ask for your forgiveness for all the sins I've committed, but I want to tell you that I am sorry... and I'm pleased you're here with me."

There was a moment of silence, until Guinevere pushed herself into a sitting position, swinging her legs to the floor. "Perhaps forgiveness is a lot to ask... so much has happened... too many people have died," Gwen said haltingly, yet there was no accusation in her voice, only a great sadness. "Yet in the end you saved Arthur's life and for that I thank you from the bottom of my heart. But, Morgana..." Guinevere leaned forward. "I'm not sure I can ever understand the depth of your hatred for my husband, for myself and for Camelot. For Uther yes! I feel no kindness for him and I detest how he taught Arthur that sorcery was evil. Yet Arthur loved you. You more than anyone could have changed Arthur's mind if only you'd chosen to confide in him; enlightened him that magic could be a force for good... long before he knew Merlin had magic."

Tears brimmed in Morgana's eyes and spilled down her cheeks. Her shaking hands came up to cover her face. "Do you think I don't know that now?" she asked with quiet desperation. "I let myself be corrupted and excused myself of every wrong. I was too much like my father... Uther, not Gorlois. He would have been ashamed of me." Her tears turned to sobs, deep wrenching cries and hearing them Guinevere's hesitation disappeared.

With a spontaneity and kindness that was all Gwen, she crossed the small space between them, drawing Morgana into her arms and rocking her as she crooned. "Hush, now. Shh! It's finished. It's over."

As she wrapped the too thin and trembling Morgana close, the years dropped away. Her mind returned to Camelot, to an earlier time when she'd held her young mistress as she sobbed hysterically, awaking from a nightmare which Gwen now knew was a prophecy... and another occasion when Morgana had been unable to control her magic and set the curtains on fire. And all the while, Uther's persecution of sorcery had hovered like a sword over her head. How scared she must have been!

In that tangled skein of good and evil, perhaps many people had caused their share of hurt. Besides, this was not the time for blame. This was a journey of absolution.

Gently, Guinevere laid Morgana back on her pillows, while her soft fingers wiped away the wet tracks on the other woman's pale cheeks. "Friends again, Morgana," Gwen said, smiling without guile.

"Friends?" Morgana's frail hand lifted to cover Gwen's own. "You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say those words." Morgana's hand dropped and she slipped once more into sleep while Gwen sat silent. Though their bond could never be quite the same as before, The First Ladies of Camelot had made their peace.

When the party came in sight of the Lake of Avalon, a red-gold setting sun bathed the mist shrouded waters. The fog drifted ethereally, shot with orange from the sun's rays while silvered with pewter from the pristine lake. There were still many miles to go, but from their high view point, the lake and the island that rose from its core in hues of green and brown had all the qualities of a spiritual realm.

Arthur sat his horse at the head of the group, measuring the distance of the forested terrain between their position and their destination, and deciding they should make camp for one more night. The odyssey had taken longer than he'd expected, longer than his recent journey in the opposite direction, but his injury had been stabilized and, once they'd met up with Percival, they'd been able to ride.

Now they had women in a large wagon and Morgana's wound was still critical. With every mile that passed, Arthur was aware he was taking his sister home to die... and he regretted and treasured every inch of the way. Which was surprising. Not that he'd ever wished to see her dead, yet in the years when she'd been a steadfast foe, he'd accepted the need to be rid of her, that Camelot and his people would never know peace until she'd been dealt with.

Yet fate played strange tricks with the lives of humans. A week or so ago, not far from this hillside, he had watched Morgana die with complacency if not with pleasure; he'd been puzzled and petrified when she'd returned to life and Camelot. It had taken a leap of faith, tinged with a deal of scepticism, to accept Morgana was no longer seeking to kill him. Indeed, by some strange metamorphosis, she'd become the sister he had loved and grown up with, once more.

All his doubts had faded when she'd taken the knife which was meant for him, so now they travelled to Avalon at Morgana's wish. He wasn't quite sure what would happen there, but he knew she wouldn't be returning with them.

He also had an idea that she'd been waiting to speak with him... perhaps to say farewell. For one of the few times in Arthur's life, he'd given into cowardice. He didn't want to say goodbye. He wanted her with him... to take pleasure in magic's return to Camelot... to play her part as a High Priestess who was a force for good in the kingdom. This realm didn't belong to any one person. He envisioned himself and Guinevere ruling over the land together, with the help of Merlin, Warlock of Camelot, and The Knights of the Round Table. Could Morgana ever have taken a seat around that table, or was that a step too far?

Besides, he knew that was never to be. Tonight would be their final stop on their pilgrimage and tonight he could no longer play the coward. This evening he'd visit Morgana and tell her everything that lay heavily in his heart and listen to whatever she had to say to him; he suspected it would be a homily. Morgana was ever the sister who spoke her mind. In the early days, she'd kept him honest... grounded, when all around him fawned on his every wish, or expected such great deeds from him that they'd made him quail.

Behind him, he heard the wagon arrive and Merlin rode up to join him.

"Are we stopping here for the night?" Merlin asked, staring down at the vista before him and remembering the last time they'd been here together, when Arthur had been the one so near to death.

"I thought it would be best." Arthur gazed around at the gathering shadows which heralded the night. "The terrain isn't good for the wagon especially in the dusk. We should rest up and leave again at first light."

"You do know that Morgana is growing weaker?" Merlin's words were more a statement than a question and he continued persuasively, "You need to speak to her Arthur... alone... before it's too late."

"I know." Arthur's lips firmed. "Don't lecture me, Merlin. I'm sorry I've been remiss. I've been putting off saying goodbye. Besides, she's had Kay and the rest of you. And it's not as if I've neglected her. These past few days, I've spoken with her."

"She doesn't need Kay or any of us! She needs her brother." Merlin's horse sidled as his hands tightened on the reins involuntarily and he quickly relaxed his grip. "Yes, you've spoken with her, but always when others were there. Never in private. She needs to know you've forgiven her."

"But surely she knows that?" Arthur's voice was wrenched from the bottom of his soul. "I've already told her so. Back in Camelot, I asked her to live..." He swallowed hard and settled into silence. Even to his own ears he sounded small-minded.

"Life doesn't always go to plan, Arthur," Merlin answered sadly. "You know that more than anyone. Morgana herself has accepted her path. If you love her at all, you must let her go."

"I do know!" Arthur repeated, his voice breaking on a painful cough. "But Morgana is the last of my blood kin. My mother died at my birth; I lost my father too soon. I know no one thinks that's a great loss, but despite his many flaws, I did love him and I know he cared for me. He gave his life to save me."

Arthur turned his face to his friend and at last Merlin saw the torment stark in The King's eyes. "Does everyone I love have to die that I might live? Merlin, I'm not worthy of their sacrifice."

Any exasperation Merlin was feeling dropped away, replaced by a well of sympathy for his friend. "Arthur, apart from your mother, who I'm sure gave her life gladly that you would live, the others chose to take the fatal blow. They wanted you to live. To honour them, you must rise above your grief and live every day of your life making sure they did not die in vain."

A wry smile lifted the corners of Arthur's lips, while be blinked back tears. "No pressure then?" Yet he quickly lifted his hand in apology. "Sorry! It is my destiny. You taught me that long since, yet sometimes I wonder why you have such faith in me..."

"Because you're Arthur, The Once and Future King," Merlin said with mock solemnity, though the ridicule was gentle.

"I suppose it's useless to think I can escape my destiny." This time The King's smile came from within. "Besides, I still have you and Guinevere..."

"And you've already created a new member of your blood kin."

The sounds of a camp being set up at their backs reached them and Arthur turned to watch for a second or two, before dismounting. "Come on, Merlin. They need our help." He started to walk off.

"Arthur? You will visit Morgana?" Merlin asked with some trepidation.

"You have my word," Arthur replied, nodding to Merlin. "The Once and Future King can neither be a fool nor a coward. I'll try to live up to everyone's expectations and, who knows, with your help and Guinevere's perhaps I'll succeed."

Sir Kay tried very hard not to show his hurt at Morgana's disappointment when he'd brought her the evening meal, if meal it could be called. The poor lady could only swallow the thinnest of gruels and only a small amount of that.

As Kay helped her drink, he'd known she was hoping that Arthur would come instead, but he put aside his bruised feelings and chatted inconsequentially about their childhood. About the time she, Arthur and himself had sought to try on the royal regalia and to that end had broken into the vaults.

How disappointed Morgana had been when the jewel encrusted crown had proved too large and slipped all the way down to the bridge of her nose, yet strangely, Arthur had seemed disinterested. With sudden insight, Kay realised that even in boyhood, Arthur had never been concerned with the trappings of wealth and pomp that went with kingship. His heart and mind had always been centred on the safety and welfare of his people.

Despite his current uncharacteristic slighting of Morgana, Kay acknowledged that Arthur was a great king. But even as he reached that conclusion, his thoughts were derailed when Arthur drew the heavy curtain aside and hoisted himself into the wagon.

"Sir Kay, perhaps you would let me serve Morgana tonight?" Arthur asked with a touch of humility. "If that be your wish, Morgana," he added, a nervous blush colouring his cheeks.

A matching flush, though from happiness, dawned on Morgana's pale face. "It is," she answered, her voice quiet as a murmuring summer breeze as her gaze shifted to Kay. "Please, Sir Kay. I would speak with my brother... though perhaps you could return to guard me through the night."

All three knew there was little need for such tight security and Morgana, in her graciousness, had sought to ameliorate Kay's bruised emotions. The knight bowed to both, handed the cup of broth to Arthur and left silently.

Once more, struck dumb by his sister, Arthur glanced down at the mug in his hand. "Morgana, you've hardly touched this!" He sat down at her side, sliding his free hand beneath her head. "Come you must eat. If you want to reach your destination you must keep up your strength," he said gruffly. Arthur could address his army, or throngs of his people with stirring words of encouragement and glory, but personal emotions had a tendency to stay locked within his throat. "Please, Morgana, for me... for your destiny." The latter thought came unbidden to his mind and he didn't completely understand it, yet it seemed they were all controlled by fate.

Clearly, Morgana agreed, because she drank a little more of the broth. Moments passed till finally she could speak again. "Arthur, I have to..."

"Morgana, if you're going to apologise again, I'll leave and send Kay back in," he interrupted with a smile. "You've said you're sorry many times. Besides, your actions spoke louder than words ever could. It should be me lying in that bed..."

Now it was Morgana's turn to cut in. "No!" she ground out, her voice more forceful. "Destiny led us, Arthur." She echoed his own words. "We're each where we were meant to be and there should be no more recriminations between us."

"There are none," Arthur reassured his sister as she struggled to continue talking. "Calm yourself, Morgana. Don't try to talk." He placed the cup at his feet, knowing she could eat no more, and took her hands within his own. "You're cold," he said, shocked at the thin, almost translucent look of her fingers. Drawing off his red cloak, he laid it over her blankets of wool and fur. The gold dragon of Camelot settled above her heart.

With her small strength, she laid their clasped hands upon the badge. "Together... the way it should have been... always." They smiled into each other's eyes and Morgana spoke again. "Promise me you'll live as long as you can and bring peace to Albion."

"I promise with all my heart." He bent and kissed her cheek, breathing warmth upon her. "And you have my word that magic will always be welcomed within this land."

"Good magic, Arthur." Her hand touched his chest and he let her push him back so she could once more see his face. "Beware those who use magic for their own ends. I let myself be beguiled... You must not."

"I won't... and I always have Merlin to remind me should I forget."

"And Gwen. She is a good wife and queen," she whispered, her voice and wakefulness slipping from her.

Arthur sat soundless, watching and wondering if she would wake again, but content to stay by her side. Soon, he would give up his place to Kay, as Morgana had requested. Yet she surprised him by stirring again... though why that should be, he had no idea. Morgana's fortitude had always been greater than his own.

"Don't weep for me, brother," she said, smiling with all her old compassion.

Until she mentioned it, Arthur hadn't realised he was crying silent tears. "Is a brother not allowed to shed tears when he bids farewell to his only sister?"

Morgana nodded her head on her pillow, staying quiet less she too would cry. But there was something she had to say. "Arthur." Her voice was little louder than the sound of a breath and Arthur leaned closer, clasping her hands more firmly, seeking to anchor her to life. "You'll see me again. Here in Avalon. I go before you to prepare your rest. Merlin knows..." Her dark, heavy eyelids closed. "Stay with me till I sleep..."

Arthur would never know whether he'd heard those last words with his mind or his heart, but obey them he would. Kay would have to wait a while.

They rose early in the morning, their hearts leaden, to finish the last leg of their journey... the last day of their time with Morgana. Arthur drove the wagon with Merlin perched next to him while Gwen rode inside the wagon beside her friend.

They left a silent Kay behind them on the hill alongside Iseldir and Mary, but Morgana had been resolute in her instructions. Only these three should accompany her to the lakeside.

There was a definite chill in the air, yet the sky was the colour of periwinkles with the sun a bright orb in the east. Merlin raised his head, enjoying the beauty of the morning.

"The sun is very bright!" Arthur quoted from beside him on the bench leaning into Merlin's shoulder, proving that he hadn't always been the fool Merlin had taken him for, but abruptly his tone changed. "Is it a good day to die, Merlin?"

"You can't think like that, Arthur," the warlock replied quickly. "You're tormenting yourself needlessly. You will see Morgana again."

"Yes! She told me." Arthur stared straight ahead, unsure of how he felt about that prophecy. Finally, he glanced at his friend with desperation in his eyes. "But how, Merlin? The way I saw my father... or Lancelot? Because I have to tell you... neither of these possibilities fill me with joy!"

"It doesn't have to be like that." A picture of Freya appeared bright in Merlin's mind. He had lost her, but when he'd most needed her, she'd returned to him in spirit... lovely and fey as she had been in life and he loved her still. "Lancelot was a shade; an empty husk filled with another's hate. When he died a second time, I managed to unite his body with his soul through my magic. He awoke and thanked me, but for those few seconds he was our Lancelot again. As for Uther; he died unrepentant and still full of hate and fear. He is a restless spirit...

"An angry one," Arthur admitted, sadly. "He left me in no doubt he hates what I've done to his kingdom. Now I've returned magic to the realm, he's probably angrier still."

"Perhaps Morgana can calm him," Merlin suggested. "I think he loved her above everyone else. Do you know he actually asked Gaius to heal her with magic when she broke her cranium?"

Arthur's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Even when he condemned others to death, he was prepared to use magic for his own ends? I'm shocked, though perhaps I shouldn't be. They were so alike, you see." Arthur turned his attention to negotiating the wagon down a particularly rocky decline. Eventually, he spoke again. "Whereas I was a disappointment to him."

"Thank goodness for that! Camelot didn't need another Uther." Merlin watched his king's deft hands on the reins, confident yet coaxing and careful. Thus he would continue to rule his kingdom. Merlin smiled. Camelot might face other hardships in the future, but they had a strong, compassionate king to lead them. One who was not afraid to ask for help. "Don't worry, Arthur. Unlike Uther, Morgana is at peace, she will not return as a vengeful spirit."

"Arthur," Guinevere's worried voice came from inside the wagon. "How long will it be till we reach the lake? Morgana is fading fast."

Arthur exchanged a troubled glance with Merlin. They both knew Morgana had placed great importance on getting to the lake while she was still alive, yet the surface of the downhill track was rough and uneven. If they tried to go quicker, both horse and wagon might overturn.

"I'm sorry, Guinevere, but I can't spur the horse. The risk of having an accident is too great. Merlin, isn't there anything you can do with magic?"

But his friend didn't reply. Suddenly, Merlin's attention was fixed firmly on the sky above them.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouldered his unresponsive warlock, yet when he still didn't answer, Arthur turned his own eyes skyward, following Merlin's line of sight.

Far above them, from the mountains in the north west, a shape arrowed towards the slow moving wagon, scaly wings beating rhythmically.

Arthur reined in. "What is that?"

"Aithusa!" Merlin shouted, laughter ringing clear in his tone. "Morgana's dragon has come to help her mistress."

"Another dragon? Coming here?" Arthur's voice rose an octave. He wasn't sure he would ever be totally comfortable with all of Merlin's magical friends. "And I thought you were a dragonlord! Why is that dragon Morgana's?"

"I am a dragonlord and Aithusa will obey me... but Morgana found her when she was young and lost. They've been through a lot together..."

"Imprisoned in a pit by the Sarrum of Amata." Gwen stuck her head through the wagon's front covering. "I remember. He took great pleasure in telling us about it..."

"I'm sorry, Guinevere," Arthur said contritely. "I should never have entertained making a treaty with such a man."

"You did it for the good of Camelot. What you thought was best," Gwen offered, though it was clear she still didn't approve of the choice Arthur had made.

"Camelot can do without such allies." Arthur twisted to face his wife. "If I ever suggest anything so stupid again, hit me over the head with something."

At this Gwen eyes gleamed mischievously. "I'll do no such thing! I'll get Merlin to blast you instead." In the tense situation, suddenly there was a modicum of calm as the three friends shared a grin.

However, during their little interlude, Aithusa had covered the distance between them, and she landed with a flurry of wings and dragged claws by the side of the track mere inches from the carriage. Her long neck snaked towards them in curiosity.

Merlin jumped down to greet her, which he did in the dragon-tongue, before switching to a language the others would understand. "Have you come to say goodbye to Morgana?" Merlin asked, his voice kind and his eyes brimming with sympathy. He knew Aithusa was the one being Morgana loved unconditionally.

There was a series of throaty clicks and groans and pleading eye contact from the dragon, while Merlin's head cocked to one side, listening. Meanwhile, The King and Queen could swear they saw tears sparkling in the dragon's large blue eyes. Merlin spoke more words neither understood.

Suddenly, Merlin turned to his friends. "Quickly. Aithusa wants to fly Morgana to the Isle of Avalon. She says it's the only way she'll get there in time."

"But how?" Arthur looked calculatingly at Aithusa, taking in her lean white body and the shredded membranes of her wings. "Can it... I mean she... I'm sorry. Meeting a dragon is still very new to me," he explained, bowing slightly to Aithusa, an apprehensive grin lifting his mouth. "Can Aithusa carry Morgana safely?"

Another burst of gurgling sounds came from Aithusa accompanied by a frantic nodding of her head.

"She says yes!" Merlin gave a rough translation. Though he wasn't sure of every word, he understood the gist of Aithusa's mumbling. "If we make a cradle for Morgana, Aithusa can take it up in her talons. It's not exactly a long distance to the island for a dragon and she's stronger than she looks. We should do it."

Arthur's lips thinned and his hands rested on his hips as he looked between the dragon and the small isle rising from the sun-gilded waters of the lake.

"Arthur," Gwen said, crossing to stand by Merlin. "I agree with Merlin. It's what Morgana would want."

"And the only way she'll make it alive," Merlin said very low, as if afraid to tempt fate.

But Arthur wasn't ready to commit his sister's life to a scrawny dragon. He'd promised her he'd see her safely to the lake...

"Arthur, I'll go with Aithusa." The back drape of the wagon was pulled a little way aside and Morgana appeared in the opening, leaning heavily on the wooden side-board. At once, Gwen and Arthur were by her side, easing her down to sit on the edge of the cart as Morgana drooped in exhaustion. "It's for the best, Arthur. We can say goodbye here."

Though he still wasn't convinced, he recognised Morgana's time was running out. The pulse in her neck was racing wildly with her final effort to stay awake. With a sigh, he surrendered. "If that's your wish, Morgana, then that's what we'll do."

While Guinevere held Morgana, Merlin and Arthur hurried to comply with Aithusa's instructions to make a secure stretcher, the dragon watching approvingly as Merlin employed his magic to hurry things along. When both men and dragon were satisfied with its construction, Arthur gently carried Morgana and laid her inside the cocoon. There was now little doubt in his mind that Aithusa could support Morgana's weight. His sister was feather-light.

Guinevere was the first to kneel by Morgana's side, giving her a last hug. "Take care, Morgana... and be happy wherever you are bound." Somehow Gwen understood that a High Priestess would not die a normal death.

"I will," Morgana murmured. "But you must take care too." Morgana's hand drifted to Gwen's stomach. "Greet my niece when she arrives," she whispered so low neither husband nor friend would hear.

Sitting back, her eyes glowing, Gwen sought to question her, but Morgana hushed her, then called to her brother. "Arthur? Will you take your leave of one who caused you so much heartache?"

The Queen stepped back, understanding Morgana would say no more, making room for Arthur who sank to his knees.

"I will say farewell to one who once brought me joy! Morgana, we lost sight of each other for a time... but I never forgot the sister I loved and I'm glad we had this chance for a reconciliation." He raised her into his arms again, pressing a kiss on her forehead.

"Goodbye, Arthur." Morgana hid her face in his shoulder, not wanting to leave at the last moment... but it was her destiny. "Remember, we are parted only for a time. We'll be united on Avalon." She raised her eyes to his, impressing his countenance upon her mind forever. Then she kissed him and laid back, stretching a shaking hand to Merlin to beckon him forward. "Emrys?" And when he came, she gave him one of her legendary smirks which turned into a lovely smile. "You were a worthy foe... but a much better ally. The Cailleach was wrong... you weren't my doom... you were my saviour."

Merlin felt a lump form in his throat, yet he lifted her hand to his lips. "Goodbye, Morgana. I wish I could have saved you sooner."

"We cannot change the past... only the future. Will you remember my instructions?"

"I promise."

Morgana's gaze drifted to the three people who were once her dearest comrades, before she called to Aithusa.

"Now is the time. Take care of each other."

Without wasting another second, Aithusa beat her wings, and grasping the makeshift cradle in her talons, she sailed into the pure blue heavens, heading straight towards the lake and the island. For many moments those left behind watched her flight, until Merlin bestirred himself.

"Come on, we have to get down to the lake!" He had no idea why, but he was certain that should be so.

Leaving their carriage, the three scrambled down the slope, Arthur and Merlin supporting Guinevere so she wouldn't fall. By the time they finally reached the shore, all three were out of breath and Aithusa with her precious cargo had disappeared behind the crest of the isle's hill.

Each of them waited in silence contemplating Morgana's final words; Arthur wondering how long it would be before he made this same journey; Merlin knowing that he never would see Avalon and Guinevere hugging her wonderful knowledge to herself... a girl! She would give birth to a girl successfully. Morgana would make sure.

Time passed, yet neither thought to leave, when suddenly, Merlin pointed to the sky once more.

"Look!"

Swooping gracefully towards them, Aithusa dived and soared through the air, her body straight and muscled, her wings beating with a strength she had never before possessed and her skin glowing with an iridescence that almost blinded the eye.

"Is that Aithusa?" Arthur asked a little sceptically.

"She's beautiful!" Gwen laughed, holding tightly to Arthur's arm.

"It's how she was meant to be!" Merlin said in awe.

Then Aithusa shocked them all as her voice rang out. "Merlin! Merlin! I can talk! The Lady Morgana has come into her own and she cured me. See what I can do!"

For moments the three friends stared upwards as Aithusa put on a flying display, tracing patterns in the sky by trailing silver sparkles in her wake. Arthur, Guinevere and Merlin laughed and clapped when she at last touched down before them.

Aithusa bowed nobly, unable to stop preening just a little. "Sir King, of course, it's me. Do you know any other dragons?"

"Not really. Not one I've been introduced to," Arthur said smiling broadly at the huge creature. "I'm happy to meet you."

"Likewise... and to you too Queen Guinevere."

Guinevere bobbed a tiny curtsy as Aithusa turned to Merlin.

"Dragonlord, it's good to finally talk with you."

"It's good to see you looking so well and healthy," Merlin replied. "Where will you go now, Aithusa?" he asked, sensing that Aithusa was fretting to be off on her adventures.

"I have been given instructions by The Lady, and to carry them out I must ask King Arthur to remain completely still and Queen Guinevere to stand aside." Aithusa swung her head toward Arthur, her blue eyes twinkling. When she was satisfied Arthur and Gwen had heeded her directions, she drew herself up, her neck curved like a swan, her chest full. Momentarily, she stood still as a statue, until she lowered her head and a stream of cold air, shining like diamonds sprayed from her mouth, engulfing The King.

Merlin was taken by surprise, and for a fleeting second he feared for Arthur, yet he sensed no threat in Aithusa's actions. Besides, Aithusa was acting under Morgana's decree, and he had no doubt that Morgana wanted the best for her brother.

Within minutes, Aithusa was sitting back on her haunches, and a white-faced Arthur regained his composure, while Gwen took his arm again, checking to see that he had taken no hurt.

"I have done what I could, Sire," Aithusa announced, though there was an edge of guilt in her voice. "It was my breath that enchanted the sword which struck you down. For that I'm sorry, but I'm afraid my magic isn't strong enough to remove it completely. I have managed to freeze it in place and with Merlin's help, the shard shouldn't trouble you for some time."

Arthur took a deep breath at those words, and was surprised to find he felt no pain. "Whatever you did, Aithusa, I'm grateful. Breathing doesn't hurt so much any more."

"But you still need to be careful. Unfortunately, there is no cure for what ails you." Aithusa gazed sadly at The King she had been instrumental in wounding, then she shook off her apathy. These three people were happy in each other's care. She could leave them now. She was the last of the dragons and now that she was healthy, she had the whole world to explore. With a goofy laugh... she was only six years old, which was very young in dragon terms, she took to the sky, soaring away as her voice drifted back to the lakeside.

"Farewell my friends... My dragonlord. Be happy! And always remember... there is much strength in your friendship."

"We will," Merlin answered telepathically. "Till we meet again."

Left alone, the three friends felt strangely bereft. They had reached the end of a journey and for a moment they stood silent on the edge of a void...

"What do we do now?" Guinevere stirred herself to ask.

"We go home," Arthur answered, taking his wife's hand and pulling her close as he turned to survey the hill. Somehow it hadn't seemed so steep or long on the way down. "And hopefully Sir Kay will realise that his king doesn't enjoy walking and come to pick us up."

Merlin followed the couple, laughing brightly. "Have you noticed, Gwen, how your husband is never satisfied? Always seeking his own comfort!"

"Merlin!" Arthur bawled.

"Shut up?"

The End.

I felt it only right that I should end this story where it began. Now you have read the final chapter, I'd love to know if you agreed with me.

Perhaps not all my readers will be happy with Morgana's fate, but I felt this was probably the best I could do for her... and it does tie in slightly with what I know of the legend. Mind you, I'm sure someone out there knows the Arthurian Legends much better than I do. Please forgive me if I've got it wrong.

I have mentioned a sequel and I'm sure there will be one, however, I have an idea for a reincarnation story with Merlin, Arthur, Guinevere and the rest of the gang in the present day and I think I'll be writing that one first. I'm sorry if that's a disappointment, but I would love it if some of you would give it a try when I do start posting.

Don't look for it too soon, as I like to get a bit of the story written before I start posting.

I'm sad to be saying goodbye for now to all of you. This has been quite an adventure, and not just for Merlin and co. I've so enjoyed getting to know some of you. Please, please review and let me know if I've given you the ending you were hoping for... or not!