A/N: This is in fact supposed to be a story to fix all the sad endings. So while I apologize for all these depressing chapters... They all have a purpose! But man if they haven't been making me miserable haha.

The knights stared at her in shock. Her eyes were red where usually there was green. Her hands, outstretched to her sides, both held balls of flame. Her long, brown hair had been cut short to her shoulders. Scars ran down her face and neck to where she looked more menacing than they had ever seen her.

“Fira, what happened to you?” Galahad spoke quietly.

“Fira is dead.” She looked at him sharply, her head whipping to face the most pure Knight of all. “You left her to Morgana.”

“We didn't leave you for her,” Leon jumped to his defense. “We couldn't get to you.”

“She trusted you.” Fira glared at Leon in response. “But Morgana was helpful. She showed her the error of her ways.”

Elyan adjusted his grip on his sword. “And how did she do that?”

“She let her taste freedom.”

They stopped there. That was not what they had been expecting. While it was obvious from her new appearance that there was more going on than allowing her to be free, the knights pondered what she meant.

Fira laughed a little from where she stood atop a hillock. “You still don't understand, do you? Morgana showed her freedom, true freedom. The ability to be who she is without a prophecy, without fear of persecution. She wants to help people like us.”

“Us?” Leon sighed. “You mean you and Morgana?”

“What other ‘us’ would there be?” Fira nodded. “I mean to free Camelot of those who would destroy me for my very existence. Magic will be free!”

Merlin came out from where he had stood watching, observing behind a nearby tree.  The hill, the flames. It was her dream coming to fulfillment. He had to stop her.

His mouth was set in a thin line, and he eyed her up and down. At last he spoke. “The ‘us’ used to be me and the knights.”

Fira smiled once she found him nearby. “Emrys! What a pleasant surprise.” She walked forward, letting the fire fade from her hands. But the anger had not left her eyes.

Gwaine drew his sword as Fira approached Merlin, to everyone's surprise.

Fira stopped. She tilted her head sideways, her red eyes glaring at the knights, but a smile playing at her lips. “Why are you here, Emrys? Should you not be protecting the Once and Future King?”

“He is safe,” Merlin stressed, circling to the side. “I’m more wondering why you're here.”

Fira laughed. “Safe? You mean where you and Mordred left him? Across the river?”

The knights halted in shock. Only the Knights of the Round Table had known the full plan. Merlin’s face blanched. Panic set in.

“Oh.” Fira pursed her lips. “Morgana’s already on her way.” Smiling sweetly she continued. “You might want to get going.”

The knights looked from Fira to Merlin. Merlin looked at them. It was Gwaine who finally spoke.

“Go. We’ve got this.” He flashed Merlin a tight smile. “She’ll remember us.”

“Fira is dead,” she screamed furiously. A few yards away, a tree splintered as her eyes flashed gold, causing the knights to jump.

“The dream, Gwaine,” Merlin whispered in a low hiss as he backed up. “It's her cursed dream!”

With a deep breath, Gwaine adjusted his sword grip. He looked from Merlin to Fira, fear and anger written on his face as he realized what Merlin meant. “If she's dead, then we will avenge her death.”

The others looked at him in shock.

“Oh good luck with that,” She laughed lightly.

It sent chills down their spines. They knew that laugh. They had heard it many times, full of life and hope. Now it was filled with misplaced joy.

She continued on. “Come up onto this hill, let’s see who’s more powerful shall we? Will it be Strength? Will it be Purity? Honesty? Loyalty?” Her voice became more psychotic as she named them by their prophecy titles. Suddenly her voice dropped. “Or will it be me.”

Galahad stepped up next to Gwaine, his sword shining in the fire light that surrounded them.

“Purity and Strength, always joined at the hip.” Fira stalked across the grass down from the last remaining part of the hill so she was even with them. “Tell me, Strength, where are your brothers, Intrepid and Courtesy?”

Deep regret passed over his eyes. “Dead,” Gwaine said simply, his eyes shining in anger but not directed towards her.

Fira stopped in surprise. “What?”

“Slaughtered, cut down where they stood, by Morgana’s servants.” Gwaine twisted his sword around again and stepped forward. “But it's our fault really. They should've had their protector there.”

Galahad, Leon, Elyan, and Percival hoped Gwaine knew what he was doing. They saw Fira’s hands twitch with electricity. Perhaps a trick of the light, but they also thought her eyes looked green for a moment. What they definitely noticed was a small red glowing symbol on her right palm that seemed to pulse. The Heart Stone?

“Yes, Fira would've been an asset to them.” She stalked around, pacing back and forth.

“She did an extraordinary job,” Gwaine continued, walking closer to her. He saw the mark and decided to try something, if he could get close enough. “Fira was our protector for years. She never let us down.”

Again, Fira’s eyes faded to green for a moment. Each time her eyes went back to red, the pulsing symbol would intensify its glow. She let her hands fall to her side.

Gwaine sheathed his sword. “Is Fira really so dead that she doesn't feel for the death of my brothers?”

Fira stopped pacing and looked at him. Gwaine stepped closer, so he stood but a foot from her. She looked up, meeting his gaze. Her eyes were a less intense red, and there were tears there. The knights noticed as Gwaine reached​ behind his back for a dagger. They held their collective breath. Did Gwaine really have the guts to kill such a good friend?

“Fira… Fira regrets that such a thing had to happen,” she murmured. “But I do not know how to react.”

Gwaine nodded and spoke quietly. “Let me help you.”

He took her right hand in his, embracing it. He watched a single tear fall from her eyes onto her skin. He frowned. “I'm sorry.”

Quick as a flash, Gwaine drew his dagger and swung with a strength to rival Percival.

Her right hand fell severed to the ground from the top of the wrist down, the glowing symbol dark. Fira shrieked in pain and anger, falling backwards. Her eyes turned gold and Gwaine felt himself choking. He fell to his knees, grasping at the invisible force that was slowly killing him. She sent the other knights flying backwards with her remaining hand.

Then suddenly she fell to her knees, releasing Gwaine. The knights scrambled up, watching as the long scars on Fira’s body began to glow scarlet intensely. She screamed and writhed on the ground, but then the scars faded to a dark color. Her eyes went completely black.

“Fira!” Galahad ran forward past the gasping Gwaine.

He took the woman he loved in his arms and kissed her forehead. He cried because the one thing he was certain of was her death: he could not feel her magic. The other Knights ran forward, Percival helping a struggling Gwaine into a seated position while Leon and Elyan joined Galahad. They found the druid Knight sobbing into her chest. Both hung their heads.

But then her open eyes faded from black to green and then closed. Breath entered her lungs again, and her magic warmed her broken body. Galahad watched as color reentered her face, and warmth radiated from her skin. He laughed through his tears and drew her limp body into a hug.

Gwaine watched from where Percival had helped him sit up. Slowly he caught his breath, and spoke after a coughing fit. “We need to stop the bleeding.”

Everyone was jolted from their elation back to the immediate danger. They were now back behind their own lines, but fires roared around them.

“She's going to bleed out,” Galahad said frantically as Leon picked her up.

Elyan sighed. “We should cauterize it.” He looked around and stuck his sword in the fire that wasn't too far away.

While Elyan heated his sword, Percival used his cloak to hold the stump of her forearm tight and slow the bleeding. The knights observed her body.

The scars ran from the base of her skull, down her back and sides. They guessed there were more elsewhere too. The largest one ran up her arm to her chest. Galahad realized in horror that they were above major veins.

“What did Morgana do?” He felt his skin crawling in anger. He stood, fists clenched and jaw set, eyes furious as he watched Leon bring Fira closer to the fire where Elyan was ready.

Leon sat down, he and Percival grabbing her arms and legs respectively. This was going to hurt. Her stump arm was uncovered and Elyan moved quickly with his sword, pressing the burning white-hot metal to her skin. Fira’s eyes shot open as it happened, but she let out no scream and only thrashed for a moment.

This alone worried the knights. It spoke volumes about what she had endured if this tragic pain caused her but to rouse from sleep, and nothing else.

Soon, after the stench of burning flesh had left their noses, the deed was done. Her arm was no longer in danger of bleeding out. Leon carried the young woman with him up the hill away from the flames, into the safe zone of the battle. Her eyes shut once more.

After careful deliberation, they kept going until they reached base camp. It didn't take much longer at all, and it would be far more comfortable and quiet.

“Put her in the King’s tent,” came a shout as they approached the line of tents.

It was Merlin.

“Merlin! How is Arthur?” Elyan rushed ahead of them and embraced the warlock.

“I got him out,” Merlin assured them. “He's inside, angry with me for choosing to save his sorry life instead of killing Morgana.”

They all went inside and found Arthur, right leg still injured, sitting in a chair and twirling a piece of charcoal in his hands. He looked up upon their intrusion and his mouth opened in shock upon seeing Fira’s shattered form.

“Oh my God,” he stood from his chair and limped over to where they lay her on the ground.

Her eyes had closed once more. She had blacked out again, probably from pain. Merlin knelt beside her.

“You silly girl,” he muttered, feeling her skin and taking her limp hand in his own.

“We need to get back to the fight.” Leon sighed. “The battle still rages. For though we are winning, there are a few Saxons left. The forces of Sirs Tor, Morholt, Yvain, Bedivere, and Tristan currently hold them off.”

“Go.” Arthur nodded.

The Knights of the Round Table leapt up and sped out the tent. But Gwaine and Galahad remained behind.

Gwaine looked altogether serious, far too much so for Arthur’s liking. “Permission to stay, sire.”

“Granted.” Arthur nodded immediately. The fact that Gwaine had used his formal title added to his worry. “Tell me what happened.”

And so Galahad launched into the tale. He left out nothing, emphasizing the pain Fira had been in. Gwaine, for his part, stood silently watching Fira. He wondered what was going on inside her.