Author's Note: First, as it says in the description, this story is now a community/collaboration, as in anyone who wants to try their hand at writing, message me and we can discuss my ideas, your ideas, etc. and continue this story until it's finished (because I've long ago hit the point in my life where writing is a privilege and not a priority, ahh the woes of life). I already have one helper, but the more the merrier :) (plus it will help the story move along and get finished faster because I still do want to see this story through). Thank you to all my readers who are sticking around, the ones from the very beginning and those who are new. Thank you to StarSeeker24 for bringing my attention back to this story playing Q&A with me. Very special thanks and appreciation for Nina Lannister for pulling me back to writing and collaborating with me to finish this chapter and this story :D!

This chapter doesn't include much of the original episode(s), mostly because I opted not to do two parts so you don't get to see my complete version since I wasn't planning on making many changes anyway (I thought it wasn't necessary to read what you've already presumably watched). I might be changing up the order of a few of the episodes here and there from now on or I might not do the episode altogether, we'll see.

Disclaimer: We don't own Merlin or any references/quotes you may recognize.

Beauty and the Beast

Gwaine dismounts his horse and takes a slow breath. The trek up the mountains through the windy night was no easy feat, but thankfully he is an experienced rider, in both fair and harsh conditions. The dark-haired man supposes that the fact that he and his horse have been each other's closest companions for the last few years helps.

After ensuring the tired beast's food and care Gwaine makes his way into the castle with a roll of parchment in hand, as many times as he has done this routine it never gets tiresome. More than likely it is because this the closest he has felt to having a home since being sent away from Caerleon and then leaving Elaine and the bastard child she claimed was his. Thankfully he has been able to do fairly well for himself. While in the guise of a vagabond, Gwaine travels throughout the lands of Albion gathering the news and gossips and bringing it back here to Gore whenever he can - in essence, a condottiere knight. Though he is loyal to Gore's king, he is not an official knight and therefore is not bound to always come to fight in the service of Gore, only when it suits him. The times it suits him are when he is in proximity of this isolated kingdom - for say what you will about him but Gwaine counts himself a loyal man especially to those who deserve it and King Nentres Garlot of Gore is certainly one of those people.

Approaching the aforementioned man Gwaine quips, "Now what grand occasion have I forgotten about?" He gives the servants rushing here and there to clean and decorate the castle a look over. "Or rather a Gorish celebration that you failed to inform me of?"

Nentres gives a soft laugh for a response first. "Old friend, we shall be having visitors very soon from Caerleon."

Gwaine freezes and does not know how to respond to that for what reason would those of Caerleon come here. Yes, of all the duchies and kingdoms and such in Albion Caerleon is the closest to Gore but... it cannot be... "What have you done, Nentres?"

"Made a deal with Lord Agravaine of Caerleon. With the marriage of myself and his niece, Gore and Caerleon shall unite and stand as allies." The king looks at his savior turned friend. "I know Caerleon holds no positive memories for you but I hope that with the circumstances you will now share with me why you feel this way about your former home."

Shaking his dark head he says, "I'd truly rather not, hate to speak about you future bride in a way that would offend you."

"So this about the duchess?"

Gwaine curses himself for his slip up and clenches his jaw. There is a great bitterness that nearly hides the underlying sadness as he drowns himself in toxic thoughts and memories.

It is because of this sight that Nentres lets the matter rest for now... He bids his condottiere knight to rest until they would discuss the news Gwaine brought.

"Where is she?!" the question reverberated in the caverns while the other four people in the woman's company cowered from her enraged form. Her fiery blue eyes settled on the non-human pair. "Well, answer me, where is she?!" The two began to stutter something about trickery and cleverness which only made the already furious woman even more so. She draws upon her fury and begins to cast a spell, but realizing that the effort would be wasted, she stops mid-spell and instead orders shrilly for the two to leave her. The troll and her servant scurry away from the woman as she heavily exhales to assuage her temper, the action is rather fruitless, though.

The younger woman tries to speak up, "Mother-"

But is cut off when her mother swiftly turns to the blonde-haired man standing next to her, "Alvarr."

Dipping his head - half in fear, half in respect - he addresses her, "My Lady Niniane."

"You and those bandits of yours are to hunt her down and bring her back, alive," the woman orders. Having sense enough not to reply, the warlock merely bows once more before leaving to carry out his mission.

Niniane takes a seat and rubs her forehead. Her daughter brings her a cup of ale from which she drinks generously before speaking again, "So, Elaine, what news is there of the great land of Albion outside this forsaken den?"

"Not very much to say-" Elaine starts.

Again, her mother interrupts her, "Then what about the Le Fays, what have they been up to since they decided that their lives are too 'important' to end?" Niniane sneers, she had realized too late that the Le Fay sacrificial ritual was supposed to take place before Cornelius' spiritual resurrection, not after. And so when the Le Fays learned of the consequences of performing the ritual, they threw away any thought of those plans, making things difficult for the Sigans and thus ruining their plans.

Elaine answers, "Morgause is traveling around the kingdoms, Morgana is currently in Cornwall, training for her duties as a High Duchess and I suspect she is practicing her magic, and Estella prepares to leave for the kingdom of Gore. Vivienne and Valeria have been rather quiet on the Isle of the Blessed with Nimueh."

Snorting while getting herself more ale Niniane comments, "Those twins and that bastard daughter of Tristan de Bois should have killed themselves and be done with it, our plans would have been successful by now." Interrupting her daughter's next words, she hisses, "Don't bother suggesting that we try to ally ourselves with Nimueh. We've discussed this I have no desire to see your aunt and if she learns about our escaped prisoner she's not going to be too pleased with either of us never mind that we are of the same blood." She then gulps more ale. "And you know we can't take the Isle of the Blessed, the magic there is not of our bloodline, which also why Nimueh is not one of us any longer, she chose our enemies."

"Then why haven't we made any efforts towards a new plan to be rid of the Le Fays, mother?" questions Elaine. "It has been months since the event we were counting on."

"Yes and it has been months since you came to see your poor mother," Niniane points out and adds with false hurt (especially since Niniane said that she would always be the one to go and visit her daughter, not the other way around), "Didn't you promise me once that you would avenge me, that you would ensure that your mother would not have to grow old in the wilderness all by her lonesome and instead in a luxurious castle with everything I was once promised by your father."

Elaine squirms, her mother always has had a talent for making her feel guilty (and in both their minds, rightfully so), "Of course, mother."

Sending her daughter a derisive, yet pleased smile, she says, "A plan has been carried out since then, Elaine. Your part to play just has not come yet. Now leave me, I am sure you want to prepare yourself so King Nentres can see why he should not have chosen the Le Fay bitch over a Sigan." Turning her face away she mumbles into her thick sandy brown curls, "Although, this may work to our advantage."

...

"We must regain the favor of Lady Niniane, Jonas," the troll grumbles as she hunches herself against the cave wall, "Guarding that cursed Druid girl was our only duty and now that we have failed we will be skinned alive.. or worse..."

Hobbling over to the troll, he inquires, "But how, mistress? Lady Niniane is already sending someone else to find the girl."

She ponders for a bit. The troll recalls that Lady Niniane recently had her followers invade the kingdom of Deira and brought down the royal house of Tregor. Only the daughter of the king, Catrina, survived and she is currently rotting in their dungeons... the troll then turns to her servant and asks, "You have a talent with potions don't you, Jonas?"

The servant nods while listening to the troll explain what she is plotting and then he moves to begin brewing a magical potion for his mistress' schemes. The troll is confident that they shall do better than all the others that Niniane had sent before them to exterminate the Pendragons.

Jonas and his mistress make their way to Camelot as quickly as they can on horses they stole from a nearby farm. Lady Niniane was in a drunken slumber when they left her hidden hideout and, hopefully, she would be in a forgiving mood when they returned successful.

...

Gaius and Merlin are walking through the Lower Town on their way to the castle. Merlin is laden with pots and struggling to keep from dropping them.

The physician noticing this turns to his ward saying, "Keep up, Merlin. We've got a busy day ahead."

"It's a busy day every day," the young man grumbles, "You and Arthur, you work me to the bone, especially these last few weeks."

"Do stop moaning," the older man counsels, "You know Arthur is quite bored without Morgana and Estella in Camelot, ordering you about amuses him and besides that at least our work is interesting."

The young warlock ignores the quip about how amusing it is for Arthur to order him around. He is more than well aware of how much his master missed the two ladies. However, he cannot agree with the physician's description of their work as interesting. "Gaius, we're collecting pots. We do the same thing each and every Thursday at exactly the same time and nothing interesting ever happens." Merlin is interrupted when suddenly someone grabs his arm causing him to gasp.

"Please, we seek Uther Pendragon. Where can he be found?" the man before Merlin has a long, gaunt face with large, buggy eyes, and.. strange ears. He is garbed in dark clothing, worn from age and travel. Before receiving any reply, the man presses something into Merlin's hand. "We have urgent business with the king," he says in a soft voice.

Gaius steps in taking the object out of Merlin's hand telling the stranger. "I'm sorry, any business you have with the king will have to be pursued through the usual channels." When he looks at the seal, surprise colors his features, "But this is the seal of the House of Tregor. Where did you get this?"

"It does not belong to me," the other man informs them while turning to another person stepping to his side.

The other stranger pulls back the hood of their forest green cloak and declares, "It belongs to me."

Though a great many years since he had last seen her, Gaius recognizes who she is and bows, addressing her, "My Lady."

Merlin, however, stares transfixed by the woman. Yes, he has seen several attractive girls and women before. Since coming to Camelot he has encountered some of the greatest beauties of the land, but that does not mean he is immune to the sight of physical loveliness. It is only when Gaius nearly hisses his name that he realizes he is staring when he should be bowing.

...

After the king welcomes Princess Catrina to his castle, she is given lavish guest chambers along with every comfort a true Lady would ever need and desire. That evening, Catrina joins the Pendragon at dinner. She wears a gown of silver with numerous shimmering beads embroidered in the fabric. Her straight auburn hair is arranged in a net-like style atop the rest of her locks hanging down to her waist.

Looking upon the small feast laid on the table, she graciously says to Uther, "This is wonderful. Thank you."

"It's an honor," the king tells her, "The Houses of Tregor and Pendragon have been allies throughout the generations."

Demurely picking at her food (as she has seen Elaine do before), "My father often spoke of you, my Lord."

"And I will remember him always," he promises.

Arthur then speaks, "I'm sorry I didn't get the chance to meet him."

"I'm sorry too," Catrina casts her eyes down to her full plate of food and pushes it away, "For the House of Tregor is no more."

"Well, no, Catrina, it lives on in you," Uther interjects.

The woman looks at the king solemnly, "I only wish that were true."

"It is, my Lady," he insists, "Your courage, your modesty. And you are as you always were, ever since you were a child." Arthur makes a face as his father says this. Though turned toward their guest Uther sees it and is amused.

She airily says, "Ah, I fear I am much changed since then, my Lord."

"Oh, yes, it's true," with coquettish eyes he adds, "You are far more beautiful now."

Seriously embarrassed and not wanting to witness any more of his father flirting, Arthur fakes a heavy yawn, "I'm sorry, hard day's training. If you'll excuse me." He then rises from his seat and looks apologetically to Uther and Catrina who both bid him his leave.

"Forgive Arthur, he has been quite melancholy since his cousin and my ward left Camelot."

"Oh, there is nothing to forgive." Catrina picks at the beading of her gown, struggling to remember the Le Fays' names. "I heard tell that they are quite exceptional beauties."

Uther laughs, "Whatever is said will not do them justice. I myself wish Morgana and Estella were here they would be excellent companions for you during your stay when I am unable to keep you company." Her only response to smile meekly with her eyes cast down. The king then asks Catrina, "Can I get you anything else? You've hardly touched your food."

Shaking her head, "I'm sorry, I find I have little appetite ever since that day."

"I wish I'd been there for you."

Looking to him with compassionate eyes, "Oh, but you're helping me now," she tells him while grasping his hand, "Your kindness, your companionship. But I must also bid you goodnight, my Lord. It's been a long day."

Nodding as she gets up from her chair, "Of course. Goodnight, my Lady."

When he is left alone at the table, the king sighs. Ever since Ygraine, Uther has never had another woman in his heart. After her death, he devoted himself to Arthur and purging his kingdom of magic. While the former has always been rewarding - no matter the difficulties his son put him through at times - the latter.. put more burdens upon himself than he would ever admit or acknowledge.

Uther deeply ponders the circumstances. Never before had he considered taking another wife - if only to ease his loneliness, his desire for companionship after the loss of his beloved. Catrina, however, is different than his other and former options. She is reminiscent of Ygraine, despite looking physically different. Her bravery, her perseverance, her graciousness, it is all too much like Ygraine.

It would not hurt, he decides, to explore a potential relationship with the Tregor Princess. He will never love her as he loved (and still loves) Arthur's mother, but he likes her and Uther believes that he will be able to grow very fond of her in time.

...

So far, no one in Camelot (to their knowledge, at least) suspects a thing of their trick. While Jonas is overlooked (due to his servant status and unusual appearance), everyone simply adores Princess Catrina and sympathized her pain and the tragedy she went through. Condolences are offered for her loss and her bravery is praised as well as her beauty. All this is done especially by the king. Uther seems absolutely besotted, but Catrina requires for the man to be utterly and completely under her control...

The retinue of Caerleon arrives at the castle in the late afternoon. The steward greets them and apologizes that King Nentres is unable to welcome them due to an urgent meeting with his Council. Elaine starts to make a fuss over it, but Agravaine quickly intervenes with cool words that bear an undercurrent of insults. The steward either misses them or ignores them. The guests are then shown their chambers to await the feast taking place later in the evening.

...

Estella sits upon her seat as any docile woman should: her back comfortably straight, shoulders relaxed, but not slouched, her hands folded delicately, her feet tucked under her skirts, and her head slightly dipped. She is garbed in the most garish gown she has ever worn: made of a heavy velvet material, embroidered with so much lace she is discretely wiggling to try to relieve the itch, and the high collar with pearls sewn in is practically choking her.

Her head aches from the torture it just went through. Her maidservant had taken every single piece of midnight hair and braided, twisted, and pleated the strands into an elaborate design on top of her head, completing it with pearls and a jeweled pin. Her face is covered large amounts of powders to make her skin look flawless, while her cheeks are dusted pink, and her lips glossily rouged.

Personally, she finds all this decoration ridiculous, but Agravaine ordered it. She must be the perfect Lady, from dress and posture to propriety and mannerism. Up until their leave from Caerleon, her unfavorable uncle was furious of King Nentres' choice. He raged for weeks about how unworthy Estella - a glorified bastard child - was to be blessed with such an offer. Elaine gleefully joined his taunts. Almost suddenly, this stopped and Agravaine was hellbent on ensuring that his niece act as the embodiment of an ideal high-ranking woman. She would have fought against him, oh she would have, but her burdens are weighing heavily on her and day by day she feels her energy and will weakening.

The Duchess then feels a hand squeeze her shoulder as a means to comfort. She is brought out of her thoughts and nods her head slightly as an indication of acceptance of the gesture. The other occupants of the room do not comment or look at their Duchess out of their respect for her and the situation she finds herself in now. Hefina pats her mistress' shoulder once more before pulling her hand away and going to answer the door.

"King Nentres calls upon Duchess Estella now," the guard pronounces as he straightens from his bow.

Hefina and Estella share a glance before the taller woman slowly rises from the delicate chair she is sitting on and moves to the door. A wave of her right hand signals for Hefina to remain and a wave of her left hand call for her Ladies-In-Waiting to come with her.

The Ladies follow the Gorish guard as he leads them to the Banquet Hall, the Caerleon knights there to protect the Duchess surround the women, keeping close. To distract herself, Estella examines the decor of the castle of Gore. In spite of its distasteful name (why whoever claimed the land and gave it the name Gore, she will never understand), the palace is actually quite a lovely site. The off-white, sand-colored stone are pristine and the charcoal and gold colors of the house of Garlot are generously situated throughout the corridors, making the building more elegant and yet it in a simplistic sort of way that suggests modesty of the crown (or rather a lack of feminine touch).

The party arrives at doors of their destination to find that Agravaine, Elaine, and their guards from Caerleon are waiting for them. Agravaine moves to take Estella's arm and puts it on the crook of his elbow. The two groups then merge into one (although a defined line is present) and they then turn to the opening doors.

Estella's titles and then Agravaine's and Elaine's are announced by the herald but the Duchess is barely listening as she walks with a bit of trepidation down the length of the hall getting closer to the king of Gore. All eyes are upon her staring, scrutinizing, leering but she does not pay these stares any mind either (at least she tries not to).

When they are a few feet away from the high table they stop and her uncle releases her arm. Estella bunches up the volumes of her skirts and stiffly bows low with her chin down and her eyes on the floor, concentrating on keeping her balance. Next to her Agravaine briefly bends at the waist. Not even a few minutes later, she hears the sound of boots against the stone in front her - the king had risen from his seat and started walking down to her. The sound stops and the king speaks softly so not all can hear, "I would offer you my hand," she focuses her eyes are his hand that he put out palm up toward her, but not within her reach given that he is still a distance from her, "But word is, it would offend your pride, as it is already wounded by this act of kneeling before me when I am not worthy of it." Estella does not respond, her eyes are still on his hand. Estella also regards his voice, it is deep and yet holds a soothing edge, like the distant rumbling echo of thunder fading during a storm. "Please all, rise."

Estella mentally praises the man for making that sound like neither a command or a suggestion. As she clutches her skirts again and stands back up, she discreetly takes note of King Nentres' appearance. He is tall (incredibly so), about Sir Leon's height, his body is muscled (obvious even under his ceremonial robes and light armor), he has a young face in the prime of manhood, a light peach complexion, a straight nose, fine cheekbones, forest green eyes, and light gold hair with a simple crown of darker gold on his head. The very image of what a strong, noble king should look like (she imagines that this could be what Arthur will look like when he is king) and overall, there is no doubt that he is a very handsome man and she hates that she almost sounds superficial, however, Estella cannot deny either that she is thankful she is not betrothed to an old, grotesque man. Indeed, Nentres Garlot is ten years older than she, but what is ten to twenty or even thirty years. The Duchess knows next to nothing of him, given how isolated Gore is to the rest of Albion, but she can sense that in spite of the gossips of how beastly this man before her can be, he does have a gentleness to his nature.

Nentres greets them formally and invites his guests to join the feast. Estella is sat on his right with Agravaine and Elaine on his left. While Estella delicately eats her food, her uncle and his ward attempt to make conversation with the king. He is polite but succinct with his answers to their questions. Eventually, the two leave the high table to find better company elsewhere.

"Is the food to your liking?"

Estella is slightly startled by the sudden inquiry, but recovers and responses promptly with her eyes cast down, "Yes, Sire, very much so." It is not quite truth but not quite a lie. While the food is a bit bland and not as savory as she would have liked, it is edible. Besides, she is quite famished, but the whale bones near digging into her ribs keep her from eating too much.

She feels his gaze more than sees it, that he is mentally taking note of her features, the same as she had been doing before, but slower. She mentally applauds herself for not flinching, she hates when people stare (especially when she is consciously aware of them doing it). Finally he speaks again, keeping his eyes on her face, "I am sure you have already been told many times - too many perhaps - that you are more beautiful than rumors and words-" she nods once curtly in answer, still not looking at him, "And that is why I will not repeat such praise even though credit is due. What I would like to see, though, is that infamous spirit of yours burn the farce of docility you are displaying." Finally, she meets his gaze, and while she tried to fight it down, her eyes once again are flaming silver with a challenging eyebrow raised which causes Nentres to offer a small smile, "There it is." His smile makes her feel anxious, so she turns back to her plate while schooling her features, regretting that she let herself slip just because a man presumes to know her character. Suddenly, the king asks, "Would you care to walk with me?"

Mentally, she sighs. This man seems to want to make her as uncomfortable as possible (the slight smugness wavering off him is what makes her suspect this). Demurely with her exasperation barely evident, she replies, "If it would please you, Sire."

He stands and offers his hand, which she accepts. Guards are dismissed as the King dubs this a private audience.

There is a tense silence between them as they leave the castle and continue to walk upon the grounds in the dark of night. Thankfully, they keep close so that the lit torches outside provides light that the cloud covered sky cannot. The air is not as chilled as she would have thought, perhaps it is because of the absence of the wind.

"I am sure that I am not what you expected, as you are not acting as I expected," Nentes begins conversationally. Estella does not respond immediately and so he continues, "Come now, Duchess, there are no eyes and ears here. We are able to speak to and to act toward each other freely."

Hesitantly, the woman at his side starts to speak, "Your kingdom is quite isolated, Sire."

Nodding, "Yes, quite a brilliant strategy isn't it? Raise a kingdom within a mountainous region, never mind that some parts may be uninhabitable for one reason or another. Our kingdom shall be impregnable and whatever schemes we have no one shall know, but we shall know all of theirs by being so high up." He chuckles softly to himself, "This what I like to believe my ancestors were thinking when they claimed this land. It makes them seem more ambitious than stupid, I hope. Did you know that House Garlot follows the Old Religion?" This surprises her and, evidently, it shows on her face. "Ah, so you didn't. Well, no one in the world can know everything."

"There are those who will try," she points out.

"Yes," he drawls, "And you are, no doubt, one of them. But you are still just one woman - an extraordinary woman, no doubt - but still just one."

Deciding at that moment to get the conversation over with, she questions him directly, "And what is it that you want from me, King Nentres?"

They stop walking and he faces as he would a diplomat. "You are very aware of your purpose here. Even though it has not been stated out loud you know that you and I are to be wed so our lands may merge together. There are many things in which I wish to achieve with this agreement, Duchess, and I promise you that I will tell you all in time, but for now trust that I will not lie to you and whatever you desire that is within my power to give you shall have."

Estella stares into his eyes and seeing no deceit simply nods, "Why did you find it necessary to reveal that House Garlot is a supporter of the Old Religion?"

"I want you know that you can trust me," Nentres catches the flicker of something on her face, he is not sure what it was and he chooses not to ask.

"Trust is to be earned," a rather harsh edge is placed on her words, "And once lost from me it will be lost forever."

His fine features utterly serious, he replies, "And I shall strive to earn it and keep it."

...

A slim woman with gilded hair stands within the shadows as she surveys the tableau before her. Bright hazel eyes sparkle as every detail is taken in and filed away in her memory.

Looking toward the upper level of the hall, she sees a few knights, paired off or in a small group, most already intoxicated from the copious amounts of drink. There is, however, one lone figure leaning against a column. He is shaded by shadows, much like herself, but she can discern some features. Such as his tall built, dark brown wavy hair that hangs just past his chin, the stubble on his jaw, the straight nose, and - if she is not mistaken - the hazel-green eyes that seem brown from the blackness he stands in.

She then feels a tingle at the edge of her mind. A detection of power not her own but similar, and she's drawn to it, feels for it. After all, blood calls for blood.

Her peach pink lips curl into a soft smile and she speaks the name of her kin, "Estella."

The dark-haired Duchess inclines her head towards her elder cousin, "Morgause, it has been quite some time."

"Indeed," the elder Le Fay nods her head, "It has indeed, cousin. I see that your betrothed has finally allowed you to break from his side. It is not like you to be so docile, but you have your role to play, as do we all."

"And what role are you playing now?"

Tilting her head, Morgause answers, "Concerned family," pausing before asking, "Truly now, how are you?"

"You need not worry about me," Estella shakes her head, "You are leaving soon to continue your travels?"

Morgause chooses not to state that she will always worry for, as they both always worry for Morgana. "My pleasure travels are over, it is time for business," before she can be questioned about this, she stops Estella, "There is nothing for you to be involved with. You should focus on your impending marriage." Cutting her eyes towards the high table, "I must say he is a handsome one."

"Yes, I daresay he is," the younger witch's voice devoid of emotion agrees.

"If you will inform my baby sister that I shall reunite with her in the very near future." Morgause steps forward and kisses her cousin's cheek lightly, "Be strong and resilient, Estella. Until we meet again, dear Cousin." With that said, she slinks further into the darkness and seemingly disappears.

Morgana can believe many seemingly questionable things, but a second marriage for Uther? No! The very idea seems almost preposterous. She wasn't around to see him with his late wife, but from Gaius and the gossips there is one unanimous fact: Uther loved and still loves her deeply. Yet news came to Cornwall that he has remarried and of course Morgana didn't hesitate to race to Camelot to learn to the truth. Thankfully, ever faithful Gwen is becoming quite adept with spur of the moment trips and so time wasn't wasted.

The two women had made their way through the Lower Town while listening to the gossips and seeing the knights bullying peasants for taxes. Gaius had also found them and revealed the truth as well as what Merlin had apparently discovered. Morgana then decided that she had to see Arthur but Leon intercepted and informed her that the king was requesting her presence. She supposes that word of her return spread quickly.

Now as the Lady looks upon a woman who is most definitely not Ygraine at Uther's side - in the very spot that she and Estella previously occupied - she cannot refuse the facts.

She bows before them. "My king. My queen."

''Morgana, I'm so glad to see you!'' The king says as he moves to embrace her tightly.

Catrina simply smiles serenely. "It's an honor to finally meet the great Lady Morgana. Uther has nothing but wonderful things to say about you and Duchess Estella, a shame she isn't here."

"Indeed, Queen Catrina. Estella regrets her absence but Caerleon is in need of her at present." Looking again over Uther something catches Morgana's eyes: an oval-shaped silver medallion with large, red stone in the center, magic radiating from it. The Lady shifts slightly in realization but now isn't the time to act. "Please forgive me but I should be going to see Arthur."

The monarchs graciously dismiss her. With wishes of happiness and a long reign for the couple, Morgana departs and searches for the prince.

...

Arthur sits in his chambers and broods. The last few weeks had been... eventful to say the least.

Things around Camelot were rather dull since he and Merlin had returned from rescuing Morgana from Hengist. Then came the arrival of Princess Catrina Tregor of Deira and Camelot seemed to brighten some, at least the king did. The young prince had watched his father grow closer and closer to Catrina by the second and the people were certainly thrilled with this. Nonetheless, they all were in shock when the king abruptly announced his marriage. Arthur had chosen not to question things and taking them as they were, as long as his father was happy and the kingdom prospered nothing else was a priority for now.

However, with the marriage, it seems a change has taken root in his father and not a good one. First Uther declared that the people be taxed more than they are able and then when he refused to enforce the new tax Arthur was punished with disinheritance and the new queen was to be the heir. As arrogant as Arthur is his upset has more to do with his father's favor of a foreign woman over his own blood instead of his lost of a future as King (and he has only been officially Crowned Prince just shy of a whole year).

The prince recalled Merlin and his constant drivels about Catrina being a troll and now while Arthur is alone with his thoughts he contemplates whether there is any truth to this. Merlin is a fool, no doubt, but every time he has come to his master with a warning - no matter how nonsensical - in the end he was right. Perhaps Arthur should have listened but at one point there was no evidence to suspect Catrina of being anything but what she is and then the last time they saw each other Arthur was too busy trying to ensure his manservant didn't meet his death at the hands of false accusations (if there is one thing positive he could give to Merlin, it's that the boy is no thief).

Sighing, Arthur rubs the bridge of his nose. He wishes that Morgana and Estella were here. They would know what to do and would help him and his father. The opening and shutting of the servants door brings him out of his head.

His face lights up. "Morgana, I didn't know you were here!"

"I would have come sooner but your father wanted to see me first." After a pause, she inquires over his well-being.

"I am as well as I can be given the circumstances."

The two then discuss the events that lead Camelot to the state that it's in now. Arthur even brings up Merlin's ravings about Catrina being a troll in disguise. He tries to laugh it off but one look at Morgana's severe expression the prince finally comes to the realization that his manservant was telling the truth. Arthur then puts his hands against the table to steady himself. Releasing a ragged breath, he hangs his head. His mind starts to weave threads of information together bringing him to the edge of a great realization.

Morgana rubs his tense shoulders and places a soft kiss to his neck. "You are not alone now Arthur. I promise you, we'll save Uther and Camelot."

...

The plan had worked. Thankfully so since Morgana opted for Gwen and herself to not physically be involved given that their presence in Camelot wasn't supposed to be known by anyone but Arthur, Merlin, and Gaius. Now with Camelot and Uther safe, it's time for Morgana and Gwen to go back to Tintagel Castle. Knowing that Arthur would make a fuss with not getting a proper farewell, Morgana waits in his chambers until he returns from dinner with his father.

It's not long until the renewed Crowned Prince of Camelot arrives. After closing the door he gives her an adoring smile.

"How is Uther?" she asks.

He walks up to her. "He's fine but much too keen to share details of the nights he spent with the troll." The prince makes a face and Morgana can't help but laugh. "It's not as funny as it seems!"

"Isn't it?" she raises an eyebrow.

"Alright, it is. But that doesn't mean I want to hear about it, especially since it was my father!" Arthur is sure that this will be a good joke for at least a month or so, he almost feels bad for his father with what this troll business has done to his reputation. Taking a deep breath, he decides to ask Morgana about her magic.

As usual, she's quick to interrupt him. "I'm only here to say goodbye Arthur, Gwen and I will be returning to Cornwall early in the morning."

The prince is surprised, even though he should've expected this. "But you both just came home, you can't leave so soon!"

She sighs. "Arthur I have my duties in Cornwall as you have yours to Camelot."

He wants to fight with her but realizes that that particular tactic may only distance them. "Father and I only have you now that Estella has gone north for who knows how long and who knows what since she won't say. Please, Morgana..."

One look into his sea blue eyes and she just can't refuse him. "Alright, I'll stay. But only a few weeks."

Lancelot is stirred from his slumber by something. Sluggishly he pulls himself up from his sleeping mat and blearily looks around. The knight discerns that it is still quite early, but a sliver on the horizon bears the signs of the impending sunrise. He has been searching the area for a fortnight now.

A rustling sound pulls him from his thoughts. Lancelot slowly shifts into a crouch as he grasps the hilt of his sword, keeping his senses alert to any possible dangers. All he can hear is the sounds of the forest creatures and the soft breeze. Yet the hairs on the back of his neck raise and a thin sheen of sweat appears on his creased brow. From the trees, a large shadow then leaps in front of him.

Swiftly Lancelot gets onto his feet and unsheathes his sword. Before him is a beast he has never seen in his life or even heard of. It is of a likeness with a lioness, but black as night with large bat-like wings on its back, and eyes a lethal yellow-green shade. The creature snarls and bares its sharp, fleshing cutting teeth at him. The knight holds his ground, in spite of the shiver of fear that runs down his spine, with his blade pointed towards the mysterious and deathly animal.

The twilight shifts as the sun makes its appearance above the horizon, catching the attention of the beast before it can attack its prey. With another growl gives the man one last murderous glare before racing into the trees, attempting to escape from sight before its change.

Noting that the beast is seemingly heading towards a village, Lancelot hastily chases after it. Its speed, however, is too much for him and, after a few minutes, the knight comes to realize that the dark beast may have eluded him in the forest. He slows his pace to stop and looks around, listening carefully. The shrubbery to his left rustles slightly. In the blink of an eye, Lancelot slashes at the foliage to reveal... a girl.

There amongst the dirt and ferns is a young girl curled into a ball, her rusty red-brown dress is torn in several places, her matted black hair hides her face, and her entire form is shivering.

"Who are you?" The voice is soft and timid, similar to Gwen's, but unlike the good-hearted maidservant, there is an undertone of harshness to the voice as if the bearer has encountered more hardship than she should have in life.

Sheathing his sword, the knight cautiously approaches the girl while removing the blue cape from his shoulders, "I am Sir Lancelot of Caerleon." The girl senses the distance between them closing and she shifts herself away from the stranger. "Do not be afraid, I will not harm you," he assures and as if by instinct she remains still as Lancelot drapes the cape on her shoulders, "Are you hurt?" The unknown girl shakes her head, "Have you, by any chance, seen a large black beast with wings?" She stiffens and remains silent, too afraid to answer the knight's inquiry.

Lancelot then feels a strange sensation on his left wrist. Pulling away his sleeve, he sees the Druidic pendant from Nimueh that he has wrapped around his wrist, glowing and pulsating like a rhythmic heartbeat. Realization hits him like a flash of swift lightning. His sharp gasp causes the girl to look up, the thick strands of hair falling and revealing a pale face smudged with dirt. Deep brown eyes, that are twins to his, stare at him questioningly and yet she seems to understand too. As if saying a word may cause her to disappear from his sight and out of his reach, Lancelot whispers in the softest of tones, "Freya."

Author's Notes: From some versions of the Arthurian Legends the three sisters Morgause, Morgan, and Elaine were married off to three kings: King Lot, King Urien, and King Nentres respectively. If anyone is wondering, this is the reason I have Estella betrothed to Nentres, since Morgause, Morgana, and Estella are my version of the three sisters.

Anyway, if there are any suggestions for future chapters, they will put into consideration. Again, any prospective writers out there, please PM me. If you just want to discuss the story with me, I'm open to that too (I'm not opposed to spoiling details ;D). And as always, thanks for reading.