Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Current day.

Merlin trudged along the streets of Glastonbury Tor, his grey beard blowing in the frigid breeze. The Tor was to his left but his eyes were fixed ahead. He would not look again towards the Isle, that crumbling promise of what might have been. One glance, one momentary lapse into regret was all he allowed himself each day. The isle had no comfort. Camelot was no more. Centuries had passed and still, Arthur had not returned.

Not yet.

His elderly appearance was belied by the speed and constancy of his steps that resumed, perhaps even quickened as he sought to put the view beyond temptation.

Merlin’s aged lips curled in disdain as he neared the town. A bus fuller than usual passed by. “Festival goers,” he grumbled, eyeing them with discontent. They were loud, (not really) they were many, (not so that it was inconvenient) and they marked the passage of time. Merlin sighed deeply.

It was some small comfort that some came not solely for the music but out of curiosity for the legend of Camelot, to see Glastonbury Tor, to know that Arthur’s legacy lived on. And yet, Merlin thought, what was there to remember? What had he and Arthur really accomplished? Where was Albion now?

Gone.

The great and lasting peace for a kingdom united was a mere blip compared to the war and tragedy Merlin had seen since.

And where was magic?

Merlin no longer searched for the answers but the burden of its absence was a heaviness that stole over his heart such that even his footsteps slowed.

Magic had never come to be accepted, instead Merlin had watched it disappear year after year, century after century until it was nothing more than myth. Forgotten.

In other kingdoms and other countries, it had suffered the same fate. Wielders of magic dwindled, and creatures of magic disappeared. Yet Merlin retained his own powers. He alone. Why?

All those years ago, when the great dragon had told him of his destiny with Arthur, Merlin had thought he understood why it was he was born with magic. What a comfort it had been, what hope! But that had ended and despite the Dragon’s words that Arthur would return, Merlin could see no purpose in why he should suffer so many centuries of waiting, of lingering on in this life, the sole possessor of magic, the sole survivor of Camelot. Why? Why!

Merlin’s hands clenched and he felt the rage and despair building in him. For a moment he regretted ever meeting Kilgharrah and Arthur Pendragon! The fury was quick to subside from his heart, though its intensity took a moment to fade the visible flare of his eyes and to soften the hardening of his jaw.

No, he thought, whatever had been, whatever may be, he did not regret the times he had in Camelot nor the bonds he had formed with Arthur, Kilgharrah, Gaius or the many others he had come to know. The memories still warmed him; bitterness had not completely taken his soul. A wane smile took his expression; long years and disappointment had not entirely stifled his optimistic nature.

As Merlin continued to walk the hedgerows thickened and soon concealed the tormenting view of the Isle. He took a turn towards his home. He had purchased it long ago then passed it down to himself with each new identity he had taken. Which admittedly was getting harder to do; faking documents was easy but meddling with computers quite another. The green wooden door of his home greeted him, he turned the key and went inside.

Merlin passed through the entrance to the living room, having garnered furniture pieces from different periods it had a functional but eclectic feel.  Merlin ignored the many books old and new that filled shelves. There were scrolls too but they were hidden beyond the eyes of the casual observer. He was focused solely upon an ugly red chair. He threw his coat onto a nearby table and sank into the chair. His eyes closed and the strain on his face began to ebb. His hair began to change, dark brown wicking from the roots replacing the grey, his beard mimicked the colour change and shortened to a modern goatee. Finally, the skin on his face smoothed and the aging spell completely dissipated.

Merlin frequently used the aging spell when he went out. He had discovered long ago that people were less likely to bother an old man than a young one. And he was not young, at least not inside. Outside he looked almost the same as he had all those centuries ago in Camelot, inside he was aged and weary.

“Codswallop!” Merlin heard Gaius’ voice, long dead rebuke him. “You’re younger and fitter than I ever was. Did you see me lying around complaining when there was work to be done?” Gaius’ voice continued kindly and with a more serious note. “And Merlin, my boy, you know what happened the last time you let yourself become idle.”

Merlin shuddered. “I know, I know.” He had no wish to repeat that particular dark time. He sighed. “I wish you were here Gaius.” He hung his head, “I wish anyone was here who remembered Camelot.”  The words echoed in the empty room, spoken aloud, clear and desperate for happier times.

Well perhaps not anyone, Merlin reflected on his words. There were some who would bring no comfort or companionship to his recollections - the head cook, Uther, Mordred and of course Morgana. 

“Right, tea,” Merlin ordered himself and taking to his feet he headed for the kitchen. He walked to the pantry inspecting its contents while behind him his kettle took to the air from its position on the shelf. The kettle travelled the width of the kitchen and halted mid-air beneath the faucet of the kitchen sink, popping open its lid. The water flowed from the tap steady and expected, pouring itself into the open vessel. Merlin’s favourite cup in the dishwashing rack began to hover, lazily righting itself at the last moment as it settled on the nearby bench. Meanwhile, in the pantry, Merlin was reaching for the biscuit tin and then suddenly he heard it, felt it. A thrum in the air made his outstretched hand shake. The kettle, suddenly lacking in magic, fell to the sink, the stream of water spilling over it continuously and Merlin gripped the pantry shelf as consciousness of his surroundings faded.

Someone or something was using magic!

Merlin’s eyes became alert. Powerful magic!

Magic! Magic was being done here and now, nearby and perhaps just as shockingly it was as powerful as his own!

It had been so long, so very long since he had felt magic outside of himself. It thrilled him, it excited him, it terrified him. Might it be Aithusa, the white dragon? He had lost track of her a couple of centuries ago after Arthur’s death. Merlin had not been willing to call for her, too angry and confused at the part she had played on that terrible day.

Later, hoping for answers and reconnection he attempted to call her but she had not come to him. He feared that was dead, for how else could she resist a dragonlord’s call? However, sometime after he heard whisperings that a white dragon had been seen in Sussex and then again other murmurings of dragons further afield. For a time he had searched but he had not found her nor news confirming her death.

Merlin focused on the magic, he listened to its rhythm. He could almost see where it had taken place, a shadowed area, a tent perhaps, he heard voices, music, laughter. The festival! Whatever magic had been done, that was where the magic had manifested.

Merlin did not waste a moment, forgetting the biscuit tin and the water still pouring from the kitchen faucet he headed for his loungeroom, shrugged into his jacket and set out for who knew what.

Aithusa or some other being. It did not matter. Someone or something else out there had magic and maybe answers. Merlin had to find them.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Merlin had no difficulty entering the festival, he always purchased a ticket, despite himself. There had been something that warned him that someday he would be glad he had. His purchase was linked to his elder persona, a decision that had no discerning reason other than a whim. So once again he was aged.

Inside there were people milling, music was loud but Merlin focused on the source of the magic or the remnant of it. He walked feeling the magic out, there was something about it that screamed urgency. He quickened his pace.

He came to the Pennard Hill camping ground, he began to pick his way through until he felt certain he had found the right spot, magic had been done here. He came to a halt. A tent, like so many other tents. No sign of who or what may be inside. Probably not Aithusa though he thought drolly, nothing could rob him right now of his enthusiasm. Yet the tent was securely zipped, there was no sound from within.

He stood there awkwardly. How was he to approach this person? Somehow, ‘hello, I’m Merlin and I’m a sorcerer’ had never gone over well and he doubted it was the best approach but he had come this far and he had waited too long to waste time on strategic introductions. What could go wrong if he just winged it? “Um hello?” Merlin called.

There was no answer.

“Is anyone in this tent?” Merlin pushed lightly against the canvas, wobbling it as some sort of feeble attempt of a knock.

There was still no reply. It seemed the magic user and or the owner of the tent had vacated. Merlin hoped that was temporary.

Merlin pondered his options. He could wait until the occupant returned but that may be many hours. He let an aged smirk grace his lips, he could slip inside and see if he could determine something about the owner’s identity. He glanced about, no one was paying much mind to the area he stood.  It was a moment’s decision to unzip the door and step inside.

His eyes took a moment to adjust but it was the warmth of the interior that first gave him warning as to what he would see, the smell of blood permeated the stale air. Merlin soon saw the source, a shirt stained through and left in a container, nearby were gauze and tape. Merlin felt sure suddenly that it was healing magic he had felt. Whoever had been the recipient had been in serious trouble but the question remained who and why. Closer inspection of the tent revealed that the owner of the tent was likely a woman, female clothing was neatly stacked alongside the sleeping cot but more excitedly Merlin saw tomes that alluded to magic. The tent user was the source of the magic.

The only issue now was how to find this individual and sus them out. For he could not immediately assume that they were benevolent, it had not taken centuries of experience to know that magic users came in many forms. On that note, he thought it best to leave the tent before the owner came back and possibly called security or worse. He’d rather an encounter be on more neutral terms.

Merlin exited and carefully pulled close the zip.

“Can I help you?” a stern masculine voice demanded.

Merlin turned slowly, stretching his aching, aged back as casually as he could. Being old really did give you a lot more leeway with people.

The young man, standing by the neighbouring tent waited for further explanation but a scowl was on his face.

“Um, yes,” Merlin smacked his lips together as he thought. “Maybe you can. Ah, I er was looking for the young lady.” It was a logical statement. No matter her age, she’d be young to a man as elderly as Merlin appeared.

“Anna?” said the youth, the scowl lessening on his face only slightly.

“Of course Anna,” Merlin feigned a disgruntled manner, “unless this tent belongs to someone else.”

The youth was unbothered by the grumpy old man before him and folded his arms. “Anna’s manning a stand down in the field of Avalon, Candy floss I think.”

“Candy floss?” Merlin confirmed as the young man nodded.

Merlin nodded back. “Field of Avalon?”

“That way,” The young man responded, not taking his eyes from Merlin until he felt certain the strange old man, sniffing around neighbouring tents had set off. 

Merlin had no wish to loiter, he was anxious to find this Anna, fearing that like all the other magic in the world, she too would suddenly disappear if he didn’t find her. He unconsciously increased his pace - as best he could with aching joints - pondering the bloodied shirt and the possible implications. He had thought it too indiscreet to ask the man about any injuries the woman might have had, or any injured visitors. Who knew if she were the injured party or the person offering healing but either way this Anna would hold the key to that knowledge if he could just find her.

Of course, he would be very unwise to ignore the immense power he had felt. It had to be a very serious injury to wield such power and a very powerful magic wielder to perform it and yet the fact that such power had been used for healing was somewhat reassuring, wasn’t it? No malevolence could come of healing.

Smells of food began to increase in the air and Merlin knew he must be getting close. He willed his feet to go faster, feeling his anxiety heighten. The closer he got the more he felt it, something. It was not magic but something like it, a premonition perhaps. A premonition that some great mystery was about to be uncovered and it was long overdue. Merlin did not much like premonitions, they boded ill and he regretted that he had not remained in his younger format. The aging spell was taking its toll on his energy and it did not allow him as much speed as he might have had at his disposal.

The stalls, at last, came into view and he quickly spotted a sign selling Candy floss, its name was painted in pink, The floss of the Faye. Merlin tried to see the stall itself, hoping to observe this Anna unnoticed and get a sense of what she might be about but the area was busy and the crowd in front of the stall was thick. He edged closer trying not to be taken with the crowd himself.

He managed to make his way to the stall opposite, such a short distance from the candy floss seller and yet the crowd remained constant. For a moment Merlin caught a glimpse of a woman, dark-haired and young but a tall man and his family abruptly obscured the view. Merlin shuffled sideways, finally, a gap in the crowd occurred, there was nothing to block his line of sight and there she was.

He gasped.

Merlin’s mouth was dry, his body stilled, stunned into motionlessness by the visage before him. He could not be seeing her, it wasn’t possible! He must have fallen into madness. . . and yet it was his heart that felt ill, not his mind.

It was his heart writhing in turmoil as he saw before him Morgana Pendragon in all the youth and beauty that had once upon a time been hers.

He watched as she, unaware of him, bent to speak to a child, giving them a stick enveloped in candy floss. The sun lit her face, the wind caressed the tendrils of her hair, though most was tied back and the smile she bestowed upon the child provoked memories of her kindness past.

Oh, how it hurt! Merlin moaned audibly, the old wound that he had thought had long calloused over was throbbing. He chastised himself at his weakness, Morgana had not been that kind and good soul for a long time. He thought he’d come to some sort of peace about that centuries ago but the frustration, the guilt, the anger, the misery were clawing at him now, gouging their escape from their cage of suppression. He tried to stuff them back into that hidden place within his heart.

His feelings had no place in this moment, his mind argued, adding rather callously and with finality, that in any case, Morgana was dead, he had killed her. This could not be her. If Merlin would just close his eyes this would not be happening. Merlin was tempted to try but suddenly, Anna/Morgana lifted her gaze. A slow, almost curious movement that sought something that had called her to attention.

Her eyes met his and in that instant his heart jolted as if struck. Fear washed her features. The crowd that had parted seemed to rush forward and in an instant Merlin lost sight of her. The chaotic feelings remained but finally old habits kicked in. Morgana could not be allowed to escape!

He made towards her ready to take hold of her, to demand answers, to put a stop to her but another step revealed what he had already suspected. She had fled.

Merlin spun on the spot, although the crowd had thinned, she was not among them. He ran his hands through his hair. How could this be? How could Morgana be alive after all these years?  What magic was she doing? What harm?

He could not begin to guess.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter Text

Merlin had walked back to the camping ground and found without surprise that ‘Anna’s’ tent was gone. He had half talked himself into believing he had mistaken some other dark-haired maid for Morgana and yet his heart disagreed. He had not mistaken anyone else for her in his many years nor had he felt such anxiety in all his imaginings of her, not even in his crazed time in the Caledonia woods. This violent agitation, this pain and fury had only returned when he had lain eyes upon the real deal.

And she was gone, already gone! He had nothing to go on. A spell uttered at her tent site revealed no footsteps to follow, nothing but a circle of counter magic. There was nothing for him to do but watch his back and wait. Perhaps listen for the magic she was sure to do.

He was at home again before he began to properly think about the magic he had felt from her earlier and the evidence he had seen in her tent. Whose blood had that been? It made him furious to think that she was out there doing who knew what.

In bed that night he was restless and the morning did not bring relief. Every thought was of her and every moment brought a new unanswered question. How could she have survived Excalibur? Where had she been all these years? What had she been doing?

He rose at dawn, wondering if he could find a more powerful locating spell somewhere among his scrolls. He bent over the floorboards and dislodged several before hauling out a crate. He stood, coughing from the dust when movement from beyond the window caught his eye. Ordinarily, he would not have seen movement outside from his position. With the curtains half-drawn, in hindsight, he was not sure that in actual fact he had seen anything but if he did not see it with ordinary eyes then he had felt or seen it in some other way. There was a figure beyond, he was sure. Staring his way, calculating, up to who knew what? Merlin wrenched back the curtain to confirm it and across the street, hurrying away, he caught a glimpse of a dark-haired woman. He had no doubt it was Morgana!

Merlin turned on the spot, he could not lose her again. He thrust himself toward his front door without taking into account his surroundings. His eyes noticed the scroll crate a second before he might have collided with it, his attempt to avoid it by jumping succeeded in keeping him upright but the edge of his foot had sent box and scrolls skittering. Merlin shot an exasperated backward glance at them, clumsiness didn’t appear to be something magic or time could cure, but his focus had already shifted back to the figure outside. Hurriedly he swung around the corner of his vestibule and yanked the front door open, catapulting out of it. The door clanged behind him as he ran to the corner. The street before him stretched empty, barren of all signs of life and magic. Once again it was too late. She was gone.

He stood, perplexed. Why would Morgana come here if she was only going to leave? Maybe she had never been there at all. Maybe he was going mad. Again! His hand went through his hair in despair. Or perhaps that was Morgana’s plan. To taunt him, to torture him? If it was he could not show weakness and if it was not and he really was crazy then it did him no good to agonise over it. He straightened his body and returned to his front door and willed his hands not to tremble as he shut the door behind him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The morning wore on, no further visitations occurred outside. The scrolls proved unfruitful, several cold cups of tea had been deposited forgotten on shelves and Merlin sunk into his chair in defeat.

“So that’s it then,” Gaius’ memory chided Merlin, “you’re going to let her run wild?”

“I don’t see as I have much choice.” Merlin retorted, “besides I’m not sure it’s my problem anymore.”

“Not your problem?” Gaius sputtered. “I taught you better than that.”

Merlin sighed. Gaius or Gaius’ voice was right. If Morgana was up to something it was his problem, it was his fault. “I haven’t found anything that would help find her.” He said helplessly.

Gaius persisted, “well sitting around here moping all day isn’t going to make her materialise any faster, either. Why don’t you go out and look for her?”

“What’s the point, she doesn’t want to be found.”

“Doesn’t she? Seems to be a bit of a risk then to be hanging outside your door. Maybe it’s you who doesn’t want to find her.”

Merlin was silent a long moment. He could not deny it. He’d given up too easily yesterday, this morning too and the scrolls they’d been an excuse. Anything as worthwhile as a locating spell would have been committed to his memory.

“Alright,” Merlin relented, “you’re right Gaius, you always were.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Merlin, his youthful looks unfettered by spells, had wandered the streets. He’d turned about a few times sensing he was being watched but he did not catch sight of anyone resembling Morgana. His magic had stretched out for signs of her but if she was there, he could not detect where. Yet there was something, on and off. He was certain she was still nearby.

It was unnerving. Several times he’d almost turned for home, he was too old for cat and mouse, he told himself. If she wanted to be found then she knew where he lived, let her come to him, his pride urged. But it wasn’t really pride, Merlin acceded, it was cowardice.

Seeing Morgana face to face was a terrifying concept, he didn’t know how he would react. What he might do and he had an overwhelming certainty that all he need do to avoid her was retreat. She would not seek him without some kind of concession on his part. That was what this game of cat and mouse was really about.

He wandered a little longer and came across his favourite café. A cup of hot chocolate, a piece of cake, that was just what he needed especially if he was in for a further afternoon of wandering about.

Entering he nodded to the barista who knew him, ordered his usual and then for a moment Merlin lingered at the display case before ordering a cake. There’d been a time when food was all he needed to cheer him after a long day of saving Arthur and not being appreciated for it. Gaius always seemed to have a knack for having some hot meal at hand just at the right time.

Merlin trudged to a corner table and sat, he stared at the cake. Food didn’t have the same effect now . . . well not quite as much, he grinned, cutting into the slice with the provided fork and watching the icing ooze deliciously. His hot drink arrived shortly after; he savoured the warmth but he was unable to relax. Instead, he felt much like someone holding their breath, waiting to exhale.

“Merlin.” A voice spoke from beside him.

Merlin breathed out. He did not need to look up to confirm that it was her, he did not object as she slid into the seat opposite and he found himself surprisingly calm in tone. “Morgana.” He nodded.

Their eyes met, appraising, acknowledging the truth of their identities and all the history that had ever flowed between them. There was no uncertainty, this was Morgana Pendragon in the flesh at last.

She settled herself, placing a cup of tea on the table and appearing to be completely at ease. All trace of the fear she exhibited yesterday was gone or hidden.

“You’re looking well,” she said. “Young.” The pointed remark established that she, without a doubt, had recognised him yesterday even with the aging spell.

“Yeah well you know what they say, you’re only as young as you feel,” Merlin spoke flatly.

“The goatee suits you.” Morgana continued.

There was little in her face or tone to suggest her feelings or her intent, whether polite or some ruse to get him to relax his guard. Either way, Merlin suddenly found he had no patience for her pleasantries and was certainly in no mood for more games. “Why are you here Morgana? How are you here?”

“How?” She raised a brow. “Come now Merlin, you didn’t really think I was dead, did you?”

“I certainly hoped you were.” He returned harshly. Centuries had not dulled his grievances, could not, he would not allow it.

Morgana’s mouth pressed together in a hint of displeasure but otherwise maintained her civility. “Yes, well you tried often enough. Still, I did think the great sorcerer Merlin or should I say Emrys? Might have figured out I was alive by now. Didn’t the Fata Morgana tip you off? Or rumours from Denmark? Or at least, surely you read the old stories of Camelot and had to wonder at their implications?”

Merlin’s eyes narrowed instantly. “You! You were the one perpetuating the myths!” For a long time he had wondered why it was and how the stories of Arthur and the others had become retold and changed and morphed and retold again.

“Me?” Morgana scoffed. “Hardly. Do you think I’d paint Arthur as the greatest King that ever was? Please.”

“You might if it suited some twisted purpose of yours.” Merlin retaliated.

She bristled and Merlin was slightly cheered that he seemed to have offended her.

Morgana tossed her head. “I can’t imagine any purpose that would be served by such a lie. Nor would I portray poor broken-hearted Mordred as a villain. Though I do confess that Guinevere’s legacy does not displease me and it cheers me to no end that the great Uther Pendragon is all but forgotten.”

Merlin could not fault her on her last point but still, he scowled. “You always had it in for Gwen.”

“Not always,” Morgana said sombrely, her eyes refused to look away, insisting that she meant it.

“But soon enough,” Merlin countered, “Gwen was kind and good to you Morgana, I never understood how you could --.”

“Still you defend her?” Morgana interrupted; her poise forgotten. “Over a thousand years old and still so naïve!” She stirred her tea vigorously regaining herself. “You credit Gwen with kindness, with goodness but she was kind when it cost her nothing. Good when it suited her purpose and furthered herself. Think Merlin when once do you remember her sticking her neck out for others without prompting? What risks did she take for Arthur? For Camelot? For you? For me? None. She did what was best for Gwen. She was a fraud.”

Merlin was taken aback. He shook his head sadly. “You remember things differently than I do Morgana.”

“No,” Morgana shook her head certainly. “I opened my eyes and saw what was there. She fooled me too Merlin but I had the courage to acknowledge it.”

“You saw what you wanted to see Morgana.” Merlin retorted. “You became filled with hate and jealousy because she had something that you could not even take by force.”

For a moment a scowl took over Morgana’s expression but then just as quickly her face conceded, she shrugged. “You’re right. I was jealous of Gwen.”

Merlin was surprised by Morgana’s open concession but Morgana had turned her face to the window as she spoke again. “The loyalty she received for one thing,” Morgana’s voice was soft.

Merlin’s mouth parted slightly.

Her eyes snapped back to his and she laughed hollowly at him. “You thought I meant the queenship?” Morgana tossed her head. “Oh yes, the Lady Morgana filled with jealousy for the crown of Camelot.” She leaned across the table; her eyes boring into Merlin’s. “Did it never occur to you that I hated Gwen for what she gained so easily? She did not deserve the crown but she deserved even less the loyalty and love that was given to her.”

Merlin felt there was something more in the statement than he understood and a large part of it, accusation, aimed squarely at him.

But Morgana had dropped her gaze. She shook her head and stared gloomily into her teacup before lifting it to her lips. “You’ll never understand. You never did.”

She looked lost. Despondent, even vulnerable. The way she had so many times before when he’d wanted to help her -- but that time was past, he told himself firmly. His heart was not so easily swayed as it had been then. “Is that what you came here to do Morgana? Talk about Gwen? Reminisce about old times.”

Morgana’s entire countenance focused on him furiously. “Would you rather talk about the woods of Caledonia?”

Merlin felt the blood drain from his face, she knew about that! Probably had laughed as he lost his mind. He stood up roughly. He wanted no more of this but Morgana’s hand had darted out and held his wrist firmly.

“Wait, Merlin! Wait. I’m sorry. Really I am.”  Her tone suggested she was sincere. “I should not have said that.” She looked distant for a moment. “I, of all people.”

Merlin could tell she was berating herself for some reason but he didn’t care. Her apologies held little weight with him. He pulled his wrist free.

“Please Merlin,” she implored, “I came here for a truce.”

Merlin raised his brows. “A truce?” he said disbelievingly. Whatever Morgana was up to he was certain a truce was not it.

“After all we are the last two humans on the planet with magic.”

Her voice was coaxing, reasonable and Merlin was aware that pangs of loneliness were urging him to respond in kind.

Morgana continued. “We can’t avoid each other forever.”

Merlin was having none of this manipulation. “We can try. It’s a big planet.” 

Morgana sighed. “This was a mistake.”

“Clearly. Well, I’ll be going then.” Merlin took a step towards the door but Morgana was faster, scrambling from her chair she stood in his way. “You haven’t changed a bit, Merlin.”

“Why should I?”

“You have no regrets, do you? None.”

Merlin ignored the question and gritted his teeth, he had plenty but he wasn’t about to acknowledge them.

They stood silently opposite one another. Still, she scrutinised him, searching his expression, trying to penetrate his soul or his mind but he was not going to allow her to see any weakness, He stared back coldly.

Finally, she relented and shook her head. “Nothing I’ve said means a thing to you. Aithusa was wrong.”

“Aithusa?” Merlin started. If there was something Morgana could say that would pique his interest it was Aithusa. “You’ve seen her? She’s still alive?”

It was Morgana who was shuttered now. “I’m not going to tell you where she is if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Why not?” Merlin demanded. “You said you came for a truce. You brought Aithusa up.”

Morgana studied him a moment. She seemed to be deciding something. “I will die or kill before I let anything happen to her.”

Merlin was outraged. “I’d never harm Aithusa!” he lowered his voice beginning to notice patrons glancing their way. “I’m a dragonlord. Charged with their care.”

Morgana huffed. “I’ve seen how you care for those who trust you, Merlin.”

Merlin clenched his jaw, he knew what she was getting at, the poisoning. It did Morgana no good to bring up that old grievance. “Look Morgana I don’t know what you’re playing at and I don’t care. There’s no Camelot and no Arthur to protect anymore, so do your worst or if you really want a truce stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours. As for Aithusa, she never had anything to fear from me, never will.”

“Glad to hear it.” She glowered back.

He huffed. “Goodbye, Morgana.” He turned on his heel catching at the last moment a pained expression that flickered across Morgana’s face. He knew suddenly that she was remembering the last time he had spoken those words, that moment in which he stood over her, bloodied sword in hand, watching what he thought were her last breaths. His intonation in bidding her farewell had been the same, the same finality, the same dismissal.

Once Merlin might have felt some guilt but he had carried that guilt a long time and she had caused too much pain. He thought of the death of Gwaine, of what she had done to Lancelot, of Arthur, the many who had sacrificed themselves to thwart her for the sake of Camelot. Empty sacrifices in the light of history. He did not hesitate as he stepped further from her. He did not look back. He was determined to be done with the past.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter Text

Merlin strode from the café in extreme agitation. What the hell was Morgana playing at? And how was she alive? And what was she getting at about the old stories and who was manipulating them if it wasn’t her? And where had she been all this time? And where was Aithusa? And did either of them know why magic had disappeared? Merlin halted and looked skyward and his eyes closed in resignation.

He folded his arms. He could not be done with Morgana, however much he wished it.

Not, at least until these questions were answered and he was sure she was causing no destruction. Merlin knew he should turn around, head back to the café but seeing Morgana had shaken him. Voices of the past swirled in his head.

Kilgarrah warned him not to trust the witch.

Gaius rebuked him for being so foolish. “You’re letting your feelings dictate your actions, Merlin.”

Gwaine told him to go all out, or, was it Lancelot telling him to hear Morgana out?

The voices swirled and overlapped, “Merlin, Merlin, Merlin!”

“Merlin!” A hand clasped his shoulder.

Merlin stared absently into the face of one of the café staff.

“Merlin, it’s your friend, the woman you were with, she’s just collapsed.”

Merlin’s eyes focused on the worker. “Collapsed?”

The staff member nodded and beckoned him back.

Merlin followed scowling, this had to be some sort of ploy of Morgana’s to get him to return but he could hardly be seen to be so indifferent to her plight in front of people he frequently saw – they would not understand. Perhaps it was for the best if he got this over with anyway.

Merlin entered expecting very little commotion. Half believing Morgana would be sitting somewhere in propped up pretence, hiding a smirk at his return but instead he saw that most people in the café were standing beside their seats, some with hands over their mouths, others nervously chatting to each other, only a few remained seated but all were staring towards a little huddle of people. In the centre of them lay a seemingly unconscious Morgana.

Merlin could see a young woman bending over Morgana’s prone form, speaking in soft tones, but the sorceress’s eyes remained closed. As Merlin neared, the woman had begun carefully shifting Morgana into a first aid shock position, suddenly the woman gasped. “She’s bleeding.”

Merlin could see it too. Something that looked like blood had begun to seep onto Morgana’s shirt.

“She’s been stabbed or shot.” A man conjectured wildly.

Another woman pointed at Merlin. “He must have done it! He was with her.”

Merlin’s head snapped to the crowd and he held up his hands. “I haven’t done anything to her.”

“I heard them arguing.” A large man informed the group. The woman beside him nodded in confirmation.

All eyes of the café were on Merlin including the staff that knew him.

Merlin’s brows were drawn together, he had not decided if Morgana was faking this or what he should do if she was not, his thoughts were on his actions and as such he was dismissive of the crowd. “She was fine when I left her.”

Not everyone looked convinced, the tension in the room was increasing.

Merlin began to realise how cold he must seem to these strangers. They had no idea really how cold he felt towards the woman on the floor, none the less he felt compelled to dispel the crowd’s disapproval. “I didn’t harm her.” He was aware it was not a convincing statement.

“She’s got a bandage on.” The woman tending Morgana broke to the crowd. She partially lifted Morgana’s shirt to inspect the wound, “She must have been already injured.”

Merlin saw that this was likely true. The crowd’s suspicion of him had immediately lifted with this revelation but Merlin felt suddenly, absurdly, as if he had gotten off too easily. It was ridiculous to feel so but the sight of Morgana’s bandage had started a very unnerving sensation. Guilt.

Misplaced guilt, he told himself but his indifference, nay, his cynical demeanour to the situation was faltering.  

Abruptly Morgana’s body began jerking, fitting and in such a way that Merlin no longer doubted that she was faking it. He was astonished to feel yet another shift in his feelings from uneasiness to deep concern. Morgana was his last remaining link to magic, to Aithusa, to Camelot, to answers. . . to so much and she was in real trouble.

He found the healer in himself taking over and the crowd, perhaps seeing the determination in his eyes, parted as he moved through them. He knelt beside Morgana, the woman that had caused him so much pain and stared at her for a moment in hesitation.

His heart was beating hard and his hand reached out. Merlin was aware there was an awkwardness in the way he finally, tentatively touched the skin on Morgana’s cheek. He was surprised that as he did, she stilled in her movements as suddenly as she had started. “Morgana,” he urged but she made no response. She remained unconscious.

There was sweat on her forehead and there was slight heat emanating. He could not do much magic here in front of all these people but he could get an idea of what was going on and at least determine if Morgana was for certain, legitimately ill.

Merlin reached carefully for the bandage across Morgana’s stomach and gently lifted it. He could see part of a wound, a puncture and he’d seen enough in his many days to know it came from a sword. His hands began to tremble with the knowledge, with shock. Even without trying he could sense it. It was no ordinary sword wound. He had felt this before. It was a wound given, driven by magic, driven of course by a sword forged in a dragon’s breath, by Excalibur. “Oh Morgana,” he moaned.

He stood hurriedly, staggered back, holding his hand to his mouth as nausea viciously took hold. This was his doing. This was the wound he had inflicted long, long, centuries ago. He was in no doubt of that. Morgana must have been suffering it all this time. The implications were horrifying.

She was a high priestess of the old religion, Merlin could only conclude that her magic had kept her alive but not enough to heal her completely. He remembered the immense power he had felt yesterday, healing power. The blood in her tent, Morgana’s blood.

Merlin doubled over, gripping his stomach. He had never wanted this. He’d wanted the bloodshed to end, for all of it to be over. There’d been times, dark times, when he’d thought for a moment, a mere moment, that he wanted her to suffer, but not like this and for centuries. Not ever like this!

The world was spinning. Someone was patting him on the shoulder. “It’s okay. I’ve called an ambulance; it is on the way. She’ll be alright.”

Merlin shook his head. “She’s not alright, she’ll never be alright. Nothing is alright. Nothing has been alright for a long time!” Merlin was aware he was babbling, that fear and horror were consuming him.

“Hang in there,” it was an old man who was standing with him, for a moment he reminded Merlin of Gaius. Gaius would have known what to do. He’d have told Merlin to focus on the current problem, on what he could do. It steadied him.

Merlin looked past the old man, at Morgana lying helplessly on the floor, she was fitting again. He went to her, reaching for her hand. The fitting stopped as he took hold and she lay more quietly but still Merlin could sense the wound, magic drawing in and out of it, a battle between healing and further harm. Merlin shook his head. “I’m so sorry Morgana. So, so sorry.” He whispered it to her. He could do nothing else to help her, there was no magic that could hold out against a dragon’s magic, no magic that could heal this.

The next few moments were blurred. An ambulance arrived, he was pushed out of the way and Morgana began fitting again. This time she did not stop. Merlin was asked if he knew what happened; how the wound had been caused? He shook his head. He could hardly acknowledge that he had stabbed her with a magical sword one thousand years ago. Did she have allergies? Did she have family? He didn’t know, did she have anyone?

The paramedics lifted the stretcher towards the van.

“I’m going with her,” Merlin stated unequivocally. The least he could do was not leave her alone. Perhaps, perhaps he could do something to alleviate her pain. If she regained consciousness then maybe their combined magic might be able to do something for her, make it a little easier to bear . . . but never heal.

“And you’re her . . .?” Prompted the female emergency worker.

Merlin swallowed hard and stared miserably for a moment. “Friend.” He refrained from adding not a very good one.

The worker looked somewhat reluctant.

“I’m all she has,” added Merlin.

The worker nodded. “Stay in your seat and keep out of my way.”

Merlin climbed into the ambulance; once again he took Morgana’s hand. Immediately Morgana stilled her fitful movement. Merlin’s forehead wrinkled as he noticed this.

The attendant was on the other side, she raised a brow, then looked down at her equipment and shook her head slightly. “Does she suffer from seizures?” She asked Merlin.

“I don’t know, I don’t think so,” Merlin responded. He was staring fixedly at his own hand that held Morgana’s, a suspicion had begun to take hold.

The ambulance officer pursed her lips thoughtfully. Merlin thought her confusion was understandable. Morgana did not appear to exhibit any signs of shock despite the blood loss and the seizures seemed to stop and start in a very odd manner. Who knew what the paramedic made of it but Merlin had his own theory and was summoning courage to confirm it.

His hand gripped Morgana’s harder, terrified to put his theory to the test. He was horrified as to what it might mean if it were true but he had to know. He steeled himself, relaxed his fingers and loosened his grip on her hand.

For a moment in time he was free of the contact between himself and Morgana and for that moment she convulsed. He took her hand once more; she stopped. Merlin didn’t understand why but his contact was stopping the seizures.

The paramedic was taking out another form. “If I could just get some of Anna’s details.”

Merlin had used Morgana’s festival name when previously asked. He nodded distractedly.

“Her last name?”

Merlin looked up suddenly, he tried not to panic. What was Morgana’s last name? In this timeframe? For that matter did she even go by Anna? He feared, he had put himself in a terrible position. The paramedic had already seemed reluctant to let him ride with Morgana and if Merlin suddenly revealed that he didn’t know her last name she would question his friend status with Morgana and perhaps force him to leave once they arrived at the hospital. He was even more reluctant to leave Morgana now knowing that he could stop her convulsions. Yet he had no way of knowing what alias Morgana was using. His mind searched desperately for some answer and with elation, he recalled that someone had handed him Morgana’s handbag as they entered the ambulance and that it was sitting nearby. If he could just steal a look unnoticed at Morgana’s licence or cards, he’d have all the answers he’d need.

But the worker was staring at him, waiting for his answer now. Merlin glanced at the binder the paramedic had taken the form from. It was hanging on the shelf behind her. Without a word, for the briefest of moments, his eyes glowed, the binder snapped open and with a slight movement, it slid from its position. Forms fell fluttering to the floor of the ambulance. Predictably the worker turned with a gasp, followed by an exasperated sigh and began to pick them up.

Merlin did not waste a moment. He summoned Morgana’s handbag and pulled out her identification.

He stared at it, reading it over for a second time and again a third, his eyes were rounded, his mouth dried up.

“I could have sworn I secured that,” the paramedic said putting the binder safely in a pocket. She picked up the form she previously had and hovered her pen over the lines. “Where were we? Ah yes, last name.”

“Emrys,” Merlin said softly.

The worker was unaware of his discomfit as she continued the request for information. He answered distractedly, reading from Morgana’s id card.

The worker thought nothing of this. Afterall it was entirely normal to get out your friend’s i.d. to check birth dates and addresses . . . but not their last names.

Finally, the worker got to the final question. “Next of kin?”

Merlin shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“Yourself ?” She suggested.

“Yes.” Merlin said nodding, “of course me, yes me.”

“I need your name, hun.”

“Oh right, right. Merlin.”

“Merlin …?” The paramedic prompted.

“Merlin Emrys.”

“Emrys?” The worker’s forehead puckered. “Relationship?” She tried to clarify delicately.

Merlin couldn’t imagine what the worker was thinking. Morgana for some unknown reason had chosen to use the name of her old adversary as a surname, his name, his current surname and now he had to somehow explain why he hadn’t declared himself her relative.

Merlin opened and closed his mouth. How exactly should he explain this? “We’re – well we’re,” he stammered, stumbling over words that seemed entirely foreign. What could he say, siblings? Distant cousins?

“Ahh, I think I see.” The worker intervened. “It’s complicated?”

“Yes,” Merlin nodded relieved, then fearing what she was implying he added hurriedly “wait no. I mean –“

“We get couples who are in a state of flux all the time.” She dismissed. “You’re here now, that’s what matters. I can put down husband. Unless you’re divorced that is?”

“No, no but -.”

“Good,” she said. “Ah, we’re here.”

Merlin lifted a finger of protest but he was too late, the worker was busting open the doors busying herself with Morgana’s trolley.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Once they arrived at the hospital Merlin had stayed with Morgana as much as he could. He realised that Morgana being admitted to the hospital was probably futile and quite likely a terrible turn of events. Her wound was magical but there was little to do now to stop the process of the medical juggernaut. Tests and scans were performed and the bleeding stopped - at least for now - but Morgana remained stubbornly unconscious. Merlin had been forced to let go during some of the tests and had noticed a further pattern of her seizures. The amount of time he spent in contact with her seemed to be proportionate to the amount of time before she began fitting once more. If he held her hand for ten minutes then for ten minutes after that Morgana would be at rest.

It was evidently very perplexing for medical staff but Merlin felt almost as bewildered. He could only put it down to his magic somehow helping Morgana in ways neither conscious nor known to him.

At last, the initial tests appeared to be done, the ward was still busy with people but Merlin was finally free to sit and hold Morgana’s hand uninterrupted. Pondering what he was going to do, how long it might be before Morgana woke or if she would at all.

He knew that Morgana must have been treating this injury for a long time, for centuries. Surely, she could not have experienced this kind of debilitating unconsciousness regularly? Could it be that she was finally succumbing to her wound? Had he found her now only to watch her die? 

There was an overwhelming amount of conflicting emotions at the thought; he didn’t attempt to sort them but he gripped her hand a little firmer and probed her lifeforce. It was weakened but steady. If she was succumbing to the magical wound she was doing so slowly and if she were healing it was equally unapparent. He watched her breathe in and out. He felt exhausted from the events of yesterday and today. He did not notice the moment when his own eyes fell heavily closed, his hand enclosing hers.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was strange. Strange to see the walls of a castle again, not Camelot though, of this Merlin was sure.

There also lay Morgana, on a bed, covers pulled up, eyes closed. She was pale as if she were ill. Merlin discovered that he was seeing her, as if from above. He was hovering, like a bird in the corner of the room. That was, he thought, rather odd but his confusion did not seem to be a pressing concern, instead, he accepted this altogether calmly, half-aware that perhaps he was dreaming.

Morgana shifted, her eyes sprung open wide and she sat upright bringing her hands to her throat. Her face was distressed, her breath gasping. “Help me,” she croaked hoarsely.

Merlin, floating in the corner of the room, did not feel the need to respond, certain someone else would.

There was a sound from the door and it swung open to reveal Morgause, hurrying to Morgana. “My sister, you’re awake at last!”

Morgana shrunk slightly back. “Morguase?” she rasped, “What happened. . .where am I?”

“Don’t be afraid Morgana. You’re safe. You’re in my home.” Morgause spoke warmly. Then sitting upon the bed she spoke more gravely. “You’ve nothing to fear. I have used my magic to heal you though you may feel some residual discomfort in your throat.”

“Heal me?” Morgana’s hands were at first clasped in front of her but they moved slowly to her throat and horror washed over her face as she considered or perhaps remembered some truth to Morgause’s statement.

“Yes, you were poisoned by Arthur’s servant.” Morgause spat, then shaking her head she spoke more thoughtfully almost to herself. “I do not know how he figured out you were the source of the spell but try not to speak. When you are recovered, we will talk more. About many things. Just know that you are safe here.” She gave Morgana a reassuring smile.

Morgana, however, was alarmed, her eyes were wide and she reached out an arm to prevent Morgause from leaving, her voice was strained and scratchy but she was determined to speak. “What do you mean the source of the spell?”

Morgause did not have a chance to answer for Morgana had already formed her answer. “Everyone falling asleep, that was you? Me?”

Merlin could see Morgana was staggering with thoughts. Merlin though had but one. This was the past he was viewing.

Morgause’s expression was mild, indulgent but there was an edge of uncertainty too. “Yes. It was. When you came to me it seemed a perfect opportunity to use the knights of Mehdir with less trouble and bloodshed.”

Merlin, observing, could see the familiar glint of a simmering but building outburst in Morgana’s eyes as she took this in.

“You put a spell on me last night? I thought I had dreamt it.” Morgana shot her gaze at Morgause accusingly. “You, you didn’t tell me! You used me to make everyone fall asleep, to get to Uther! I didn’t know what was happening and then those knights invaded and Arthur and, and Merlin  –.” Morgana began to cough and held her throat.

Morgause fetched her some water. “My dear Morgana, it was not my intention to cause you distress but to follow through on your wishes.”

The fire in Morgana’s eyes lessened only slightly as she listened.

Morgause spoke soothingly. “You recall I asked you if you wanted Uther’s downfall.”

“Uther’s downfall,” Morgana clarified, “not Camelot’s.”

Morgause waved her hand dismissively, “Uther, Camelot. They are the same.”

Morgana shook her head but Morgause continued. “I know you do not see that.
Your kindness to those in Camelot is to your credit but, I fear, misplaced.” Morgause continued earnestly. “You have magic Morgana, they do not. It is your compassionate nature that has blinded you to the fact that as long as Uther sits on his throne the people are your enemy as well.”

“No,” Morgana shook her head more forcibly this time. “You are wrong, there are good people in Camelot.”

“People who have stood by while countless sorcerers have been killed? People like this servant who poisoned you?” Morgause gave an expression of disgust and fury.

For a moment Morgana had looked defiant but at the mention of the poisoning, her face crumpled, her hands went to her face and she began to sob uncontrollably. “How could he?” She managed to choke out.

Morgause was discernibly surprised by Morgana’s actions. Coming forward she wrapped her arms around Morgana in a sisterly manner. “I do not know how he dared poison the ward of the king!”

“You don’t understand,” Morgana blurted through tears. “Merlin was my friend. I . . .I trusted him. He knew I had magic, he helped me. He . . . he was different!” Morgana swallowed hard, calming slightly. “No. He couldn’t have done this on purpose. Merlin couldn’t have known. It must be a mistake. It wasn’t Merlin that did this. It can’t have been.”

Morgause was staring at Morgana steadily. “There is no mistake Morgana. He showed me the poison himself.”

Morgana’s eyes were distant with memory. “It was in the water, he was so insistent I drink,” she clutched her arms around herself. “Merlin- Merlin poisoned me.”

Morgause did not notice the anguished tone Morgana had taken. Instead, the shrewd priestess’s face suddenly lit with comprehension, as if a puzzle had been solved. “That’s how he knew you were the source of the spell!” Turning her attention back to Morgana she expounded on her realisation. “Oh, don’t you see, Morgana, the fact that this servant knew you had magic just made it easier for him to poison you. You weren’t Uther’s ward anymore, you were a sorceress, an enemy to Camelot.”

Morgana looked shocked at first but as her thoughts processed the pain on her face increased until she gave another agonised sob.

Morgause once again looked surprised but quickly embraced her distressed sister. “Do not upset yourself, Morgana. You,” Morgause lifted Morgana’s chin, “have great potential for magic within you. I am certain of it. Such things will seem insignificant in time. What could a servant’s betrayal be to you?”

It was clear Morgause had meant the statement to be dismissive, to demonstrate the unimportance of such a friendship, such a betrayal, but Morgana sobbed harder. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

There was no mistaking the bitterness, the regret that Morgana expressed.
Morgause halted her comforting, all incredulity as the realisation dawned. “You . . . you had feelings for this servant? This boy?” she choked on the words,

Morgana shrugged but it was as good as a confession.

“And he? He has done this when-.” Morgause began her anger was increasing.

“No,” Morgana shook her head. “He never cared. I only thought, hoped . . . he never cared.” Morgana cried harder.

Morgause visibly disguised her horror at the thought of her sister in love with a servant and summoned with effort a veneer of calm. “I blame myself, I have left you too long in that place. It is only natural that you would feel something – “ Morgause broke off unable to stomach the words. “That your goodness would seek to see the best in others and in a place such as Camelot that cannot have been easy.”

“But why should you care about me?” Morgana said wiping the tears from her eyes.

“Because we are kin.” Morgause had locked her gaze with Morgana full of sincerity. “Not just in magic but because we share the same mother.”

Morgana looked at Morgause in wonder, then nodded slowly as if she had long known this was the truth. Her tears stopped and she took a few slow breaths.

“We will speak later.” Morgause brought the blanket towards Morgana. “You must rest. Do not think of the past anymore and doubt not that this is the beginning of a great time for you Morgana. A great time.”

Morganna offered a weak smile as Morgause left but it fled her lips as soon as her sister was out of sight. She fell back against the pillow. “Merlin,” she whispered as a single tear ran down her cheek but she brushed it away angrily. “how could you? I trusted you. I . . . I loved you.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Merlin woke with a gasp, his hand still resting on the hospitalised Morgana, his mind foggy, having but a second to watch dazedly as Morgana’s eyes began to flutter, then open.

“Merlin?” she said more alert than he. “What are you doing here? Where am I? She looked down at her hand in his.

Merlin hastily let go of it and stood, stumbling back from her. His breath caught in his throat, his mind reeling with the knowledge and images that he had seen. A dream, a vision, a recollection, he didn’t have time to process, he knew only that he had to get out of there, right now so he could think about this. “You’re in hospital. Sorry, I’ve . . . I’ve got to go.” Merlin stammered weakly.

He circled on the spot in some confusion.

“Go? What happened?” Morgana pushed herself up.

“You passed out,” Merlin said off-handedly as he finally focused on the exit. “I’ll come back. I just have, to go right now.”

“Merlin!” She called with dismay and disbelief.

Merlin didn’t look back, didn’t stop until he had rounded a corner and entered a lift, the doors closed and he let himself sink down the wall. “I never knew,” he moaned to himself. He was almost out of breath from the shock, the pain. He did not doubt that what he had witnessed had been real events, a past memory of Morgana’s, the memory of what had transpired after he had poisoned her. “I never, never knew.” He said again. How could he? How could he have suspected that Morgana had been in love with him!

He didn’t know what to do with that realisation just yet. He instead tried to come to grips with the truth that Morgana hadn’t known about being the source of the sleeping spell either, or about Morgause’s plan.

All these years, all these centuries he had been aware that his poisoning of Morgana had begun or at least propelled Morgana down a path against Arthur and Camelot. Yet he had blamed her for it, for the awful guilt he had felt, for putting him in the position of making that choice, even for the anger she had harboured toward him afterwards!

Now he had to face the fact that her fear and confusion over the sleeping spell and the knights of Medhir was not an act, that Morgana had been, if not entirely innocent, far less complicit and certainly less callous than he had thought.

Then there was the crushing matter before him that if that were the case he had not just betrayed a confused friend by trying to kill her but if she’d been in love with him, broken her heart as well! 

His forehead was beaded with perspiration, his eyes glassy with near shed tears. He blinked them back as he let his head fall to his knees. Why did she never tell him that she loved him?

Of course, that was a stupid question with any number of obvious answers from Uther, to Arthur to their stations and more. The bigger question was how he never noticed?

“Because you’re an idiot Merlin.” It was Arthur’s voice.

Merlin was surprised to hear it. He had not ever found himself hearing the ghost of Arthur. It had been too painful. He was even more surprised when he lifted his head and saw a shadowy vision of his long-departed friend looking down at him, standing in the corner of the lift.

“Arthur?” Merlin said confusedly.

“So it would seem.”

“You’re not really here.” Merlin shook his head.

“Kind of looks like I am.” Arthur made an amused face.

“Well of course you are!” Merlin got to his feet in agitation. “I mean Morgana’s back from the dead, Aithusa is out there somewhere too. So why not throw your return into all of this? I’m sure Merlin can handle it. It’s not like his sanity is teetering on the edge after waiting, well only a thousand years, for your return!”

The apparition of Arthur leaned in with a slight grimace. “You’re upset.”

Merlin folded his arms, calming. “Yes obviously.”

“I could always tell, you know.”

“No you couldn’t. You were too busy being an arrogant prat.”

Arthur frowned. “I think I deserve a better insult than that after all these years.”

“You’re only half there,” Merlin added off-handedly, sagging against the wall.

Arthur gave a dismissive shrug. “Well that may be so but-“

“That was not a reference to your appearance,” Merlin quipped.

Arthur gave Merlin a lopsided squint and wobbled his hand in a half-half movement. “That’s a little better, needs work.”
“Yeah well, I’ve got other things on my mind, like my sanity.” Merlin shot ‘Arthur’ an unnerved glance.

“You’re not crazy Merlin. Well not any crazier than before. Would it make you feel any better if I said I was really here, returned in Albion’s darkest hour, so you can set things right?”

“Not really,” Merlin grumbled but it did. The possibility, however small, that things could be set right in some sort of way was what Merlin desperately wanted to believe.

Arthur shrugged. “Okay, I’m a hallucination then.”

Merlin was silent for a long moment. “Do you really think I could set things right? There’s been so much suffering Arthur. So much evil. I’ve made so many bad choices.”

Arthur was silent a moment. “You’re the greatest sorcerer that ever lived, aren’t you?”

Merlin caught Arthur’s slightly bitter tone and winced. “Still sore about the sorcerer bit?”

“A little bit,” Arthur admitted. “But seriously, I do believe in you Merlin. We all made mistakes, Morgana as well but you’ll do what’s right when the time comes.”

Merlin shook his head in confusion. “What do you mean by that? When what time comes?”

Arthur simply offered a slight smile of encouragement before nodding towards the doors of the lift.

Merlin’s sight only shifted for a moment from Arthur, enough to acknowledge the opening of the doors but when he looked back the shadowy image of Arthur had disappeared.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Merlin stepped from the lift. He could have sworn it had been on its way down and yet he was on the same floor as he had left. He stood there confusedly staring at the lift’s display.

“Mr Emrys?” A doctor he met earlier broached him. “I was just coming to see Anna but it’s probably better if we talk first.”

Merlin immediately felt uneasy about this.

“I don’t how long you’ve been married to Anna or how long you’ve known her,” the doctor began his preamble.

Merlin didn’t respond, hours of a fake marriage and centuries of knowing her seemed somewhat unwise to mention.

“But are you aware of her medical history at all?”

Merlin shrugged trying not to be too specific or too evasive. “I know some portion. Why?”

“I’ll come straight to the point Mr Emrys. The injury in Anna’s side, she’s been admitted to hospital with it before. It’s reoccurring and the reason for that seems to be that Anna is doing it to herself. In fact, she was institutionalised five years ago for it, during that time she had several relapses despite significant measures to prevent it and apparently, she left the facility without being formally discharged. She went by another name at the time but it was definitely her. The wound is identical as is her description.”

Merlin was appalled, not by Morgana’s using a different alias or by her escape but by the fact that she had been institutionalised for an injury she had no power over. Morgana wasn’t doing this to herself at all, she was simply fighting to heal a wound that had deep magic bound into it. She couldn’t be cured of something she had no control over.

“I can see you weren’t aware of that but the reason I inform you is that on that basis we’d like to move Anna to the mental health ward, it’s a more secure area -”

“I’d rather she stayed in the current ward,” Merlin argued. He came to the conclusion that leaving Morgana in the hospital was going to be very problematic.

“She can’t get the help she needs there.” The doctor was firm and frowning.

Merlin could see this was not a matter of asking his permission. There was no point arguing, he’d dealt with authorities all his life, he knew how they could be but Merlin had never been one to accept defeat or to take much notice of hierarchy. Merlin opened his mouth to speak when he heard a scream from further down the hall. It was Morgana’s.

Merlin and the doctor ran towards the room. Morgana was struggling to get out of her bed and fighting off a few nurses rather ineffectively. “Get away from me, I know what you are doing. I won’t go.”

There was a glow in her eyes of magic and Merlin feared what was coming next but only the water glass nearby cracked. There was nothing more, no shattering of glass windows, no nursing staff thrown across the room. Morgana’s knees were giving way and her eyes were large and distressed, they scanned the room searching for help until they finally landed on Merlin. With gigantic effort, she broke free of the nurses and weakly reached for him. “Merlin, please.”

Merlin had already come towards her. He held her against him and looked towards the doctor and nurses. “Let me speak with her. Please just, just give us a minute.” Merlin may not have looked over a thousand years old at a casual glance but there were times when he was able to command authority because he was. It might have been something in his eyes or his tone or perhaps it just seemed the more prudent thing to do but the staff agreed, stepping back to the edge of the room but within sight.

Merlin helped Morgana back to the bed and she reluctantly sat but she still had a hold of him, clutching his shirt.

“You shouldn’t have brought me here.” She whispered woefully. “I would have been alright in while.”

Merlin whispered back. “I didn’t have much choice in the matter, you passed out in the café. There was blood. You were convulsing.”

“Convulsing?” For the briefest of moments confusion passed over her face but her expression quickly returned to one who looked hunted. “Please Merlin, you have to get me out of here, they’ll never let me go until they get to the bottom of this . . . until I heal. I - I will never heal,” her eyes darted to the medical staff and back as she whispered, “it’s an old wound from the old ways. Do you understand?” Desperation had engaged all her features.

Merlin felt his stomach churn. Of course, he understood, the sword he had driven angrily into her had been forged in a dragon’s breath. He’d tried to save Arthur from a similar wound, he’d failed. “I understand completely.” His words were flat and toneless keeping the regret he felt from being expressed.

“Oh, I see,” Morgana’s hands retracted from his promptly, “I should have known.”

Merlin read it in her withdrawal from him, the cold wall that went up. He realised that she believed that he would be glad to have her imprisoned and suffering. She was wrong, he couldn’t let her think that. He shook his head and took her hands in his. “No. that’s not what I meant. Whatever has happened between us,” he sighed, searching for what exactly he felt, what he wanted to say, uncertain he settled for “I didn’t want you to suffer.”

He was aware the doctors and nurses were possibly within earshot though they were murmuring among themselves. He lowered his voice. “It will be okay, I promise it will.” He stared into her eyes willing her to understand him, then he leaned in alongside her ear and whispered. “I won’t leave you here. I’ll get you out.” As he pulled back from his position, he took her face in his hands to see if she believed him. “You just have to go along with it for now.”

She was a picture of fear and mistrust. There was barely a thought in his head as bent his head again and kissed her forehead. “It will be okay, I promise.”

This time as he straightened, he could see only astonishment in her face and there was a large part of himself that shared in it.

She nodded slowly.

Merlin stood and acceded to the medical staff, who were already making a move to intervene.

Morgana lay herself back against the bed as they prepared to move her. As she was wheeled past him, she gave him a parting glance full of appeal. “I am trusting you, Merlin.”

Considering the history that had passed between them it was an astounding thing and an enormous burden. Morgana putting such faith in him, even with doubts was a precarious thing. Merlin knew that if he failed her there would never be a truce between them, there would be no peace until one of them was dead. He had given himself no choice but to succeed.

Only Merlin just didn’t quite yet know how.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Merlin had been allowed to follow Morgana to the mental health ward. He had seen the doors that opened only via the button, controlled by the nurse’s station. He’d been informed of the sign-in procedure for visitors and he’d noticed the CCTV cameras. He’d also been told that visiting hours were over.

He had hoped to get another chance to speak to Morgana about her injury but he did not. He was only able to send promise that he would return via a nurse. 

He was one for making spare of the moment offers of help that he frequently didn’t have a clue how to fulfil.

He had no idea what to expect in terms of Morgana’s strength during an escape if he could plan one. She had been living with the injury for centuries but what that meant he still did not know. Had her healing powers failed her temporarily? The doctor seemed to have indicated that in the past Morgana’s healing process had waxed and waned. How well did she ever become? How long did her healing last? All things that would have made an escape plan a lot easier too. . . well, plan. It was not particularly encouraging that Morgana had used such a mammoth amount of power only yesterday and yet this morning she had collapsed.

Merlin remembered that there was something that had bothered him about the wound, something he had felt when he first examined it, something about the magic within it that disturbed him. He brushed the hair out of his eyes tiredly. Perhaps it was only that it reminded him so much of Arthur’s last moments and the very similar wound.

It was puzzling that she had survived at all. A dragon’s magic would be no match for her own, even with her healing bracelet and her considerable powers, yet here she was. It demanded explanation and Merlin was determined he would get one, once he got Morgana out of here.

There was that problem again. He looked up from his thoughts, the hospital exit was not far. He felt reluctant to face it, it seemed wrong to go home, to normality while Morgana was here but what else was there to do? He slowed, watching the myriad of persons, that entered and exited. Patients, visitors and staff bustled in the foyer, ignoring him and his distress, filled with their own concerns, feeling maybe the same way as he did, as if hospitals were a world of their own disconnected from reality somehow. The surreality of it all was broken for a moment as he moved out of the way of an elderly man struggling to push his wife along in a wheelchair.

Merlin stopped and turned promptly. “Would you like some help?” he offered.

“Oh thank you, young man, would you?” The elderly man gave over his charge to Merlin. “We’re not going far, just to the surgery room there at the end.”

Merlin pushed the wheelchair the distance.

“Thank you again so much,” said the lady invalid. “It is hard to be old. Everyone is so busy with their own affairs and sometimes you get the feeling you’re invisible.”

Merlin thought of the many times he’d used the aging spell for that reason. “I know exactly what you mean.” Merlin nodded.

He left the couple at the designated door, pondering life and death, youth and age and as he stepped through the hospital exit, the misery that had etched itself in his expression disappeared and a mischievous smile spread over his face.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter Text

Morgana had been trying to appear as if she were asleep. She was doing her best to focus all of her magic on healing and to gather enough strength to leave whenever the opportunity arose. . . that was if Merlin came good on his promise and ever returned.

She tried to repress the shame that came bubbling up when she thought of the way she had behaved in front of him, pleading for his help like some sort of maiden in distress. She thought she had been rid of such vulnerability centuries ago but then again, the events, the centuries since had changed her so much. She sighed, she wasn’t sure who she was anymore, someone that was neither the frightened Lady Morgana nor the aloof High priestess - not that she had managed to rid herself of either lot of memories.

She was sure that she still did not like relying on other people for her safety but she had little choice. In years past she may simply have thrown the medical staff aside with her magic and teleported out, but her abilities were beset by the severity of her wound. She had known her chosen actions would increase its hold but she had thought, or rather hoped, that the effort she made yesterday would have lasted longer. Long enough.

Aithusa had convinced her to try. Poor Aithusa.

Morgana really must get out of here, somehow find the strength. She rubbed her bare wrist missing the feel of her healing bracelet. It did nothing for her wound but it did help her sleep more peacefully. The healing bracelet had been placed somewhere with the rest of her belongings, she’d been told. She had a feeling that Merlin had been given them.

Merlin.

What a puzzle that man was. Had always been. His feelings towards her had seemed clear enough this morning, extreme resentment at best. After everything, she had not really expected more and she had feared a lot worse. Yet he had come to the hospital with her, had stayed with her, seemed to have been mistaken for her husband and had promised to help her and without any manipulation on her part.

Not that she’d had time to manipulate him. In the brief moments after the disastrous reunion in the café, she had decided that it would be best to go back to her newly placed tent at the festival and strategize. She had thought it would be difficult to find a way to coerce Merlin to take part in her larger plan but yet here he was, bestowing that good-natured smile on her, helping her get out of this jam that she had inadvertently ended up in. Maybe it wouldn’t be so difficult . . . if she got out of here.

She’d been trying to ignore her current situation, the terror it evoked, the overwhelming scream inside of her, the crushing, plunging, desperate need to run. No one but herself understood why any incarceration was so horrific. She squeezed her eyes shut against the image of the darkened well enclosed around her and angrily forced herself to focus on the problem of Merlin.

He’d been the source of her fire for so long, the heartbreak he’d unthinkingly, carelessly, given her, along with the poison hemlock. It had made her hate him for the pain he caused and in turn, she had hated all those he loved. Why couldn’t she evoke that love or at least that friendship from him that others got so easily? Was she to be denied all because she had magic? Or so she had thought at the time. Even in the confusion that followed learning that Merlin had magic she had not lost that sense of betrayal, that desire to hurt him back. The anger that his pity was never extended to her. The memory of that pain had made her strong. It had sustained her anger and that had helped her overcome her fears, her loneliness and given her purpose but that anger had been fading for a long time. Now she was faced with trusting him again, receiving in some small way his pity was now robbing her of that fire she needed. She gave a cold shiver, perhaps the Cailleach had spoken true, Emrys really was going to be her doom and a stray thought added defeatedly that it might be for the best. 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter Text

The day was bright but it could not be seen from within the hospital hall.

Merlin hobbled to the intercom button and stared at it. There was no going back once he pressed it. It had been a long time since he’d broken someone out of anywhere and there was always the risk things wouldn’t go the way one expected.

Modern day breakouts were not so dissimilar to those he had enabled in Camelot. Magic may not have been banned but since it simply didn’t exist in the minds of today – other explanations would be found, words like terrorism and criminal came to mind. Merlin was powerful but he could still be hurt, still rendered unconscious, still incarcerated or experimented on. Was getting answers from Morgana worth the risk?” He thought of Arthur, his words about setting things right. Merlin squared his aged shoulder and pressed the intercom.

“Patient?” a voice said.

“I’m here to see my granddaughter. Mor- eh,” Merlin grimaced at his error. “Anna Emrys.”

The double doors swung open revealing the sign-in desk. The nurse manning it gave him a businesslike once over and then pushed a clipboard in his direction. “You need to sign in and I’ll need to see your ID.”

Merlin took the pen and hurriedly scribbled the fake name and details into their respective places.

The nurse scrutinised the form to see if it was sufficiently filled in as she took it from him. “I.D.” She insisted.

“I.D.” Merlin muttered, he reached for the pocket where he knew the fake id should have been, only it wasn’t. His mind raced, after carefully magicking a forgery, he clearly remembered placing it in his back pocket . . . only then he’d thought that it would be difficult to reach with his backpack on. So he’d taken it out and then the kettle had whistled and – oh no had he left it on the table?

“You know,” Merlin said putting on his best cranky old man voice and leaning forward to the nurse. “It used to be people trusted you when you said who you were. Nowadays it’s all papers to prove this and papers to prove that. There’s no trust anymore.”

He tried to elicit a smile but the nurse was neither sympathetic to his complaints nor one to be deterred from her duty. She just waited expectantly.

It had been worth a try. He fumbled some more knowing that he wouldn’t find it before his hand fell on his wallet. He supposed he had no choice but to use his own ID. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time one of his personas had become wanted by the law. Old Ambrosius Emrys would just have to disappear for good and young Merlin Emrys would have to play dumb about his ‘grandfather’ or if things went exceptionally pear-shaped he would have to move into one of his other houses in another part of England and take up another alias. What an annoyance!

Grudgingly Merlin showed the nurse the ID and prepared himself to put the name discrepancy down to old age and distraction. 

The nurse looked at the photo, she looked at his face but she gave no attention to the written details, she nodded him through. “Second door on the right.”

Merlin stifled a sigh of relief. He didn’t look back but shoved his id back into his wallet. The nurse for all her diligence wasn’t expecting duplicity, if the photo id matched the face what reason would she have to expect that the name written down wouldn’t match. Merlin just might make it through this unscathed!

Merlin found Morgana’s hospital room easily enough. The small window in the door showed her awake but reclined on pillows. He tapped as he pushed open the door.

Morgana straightened her sitting position. “Merlin, you came back.”

He nodded awkwardly trying to ignore the obvious way her eyes shone with surprise and relief. “I promised I would.”

“I didn’t expect to see you,” she lowered her voice, “looking like that.”

“It’s part of the plan to get you out of here.” Merlin tried to shrug off the backpack he wore but his aged arms wouldn’t quite bend. His fingers reached for the strap, his body turned unsteadily 180, 360 and finally, on the fourth attempt, he got a hold of the backpack and managed to shrug it off his shoulders placing it triumphantly on the ground. He looked up into the worried expression of Morgana.

“I was young when I put it on.” Merlin attempted to placate her but somehow it didn’t seem to instil confidence.

“I was young when you started to take it off,” Morgana responded, then with worry still etched on her face she asked him what his plan was. 

“First is this.” Merlin turned carefully surveying the ceiling until he spotted the security camera.

“Abietee dúne”. The camera made a satisfying spark.

“Good thinking,” Morgana approved appearing impressed.

“And,” Merlin grinned, he was quite proud of this part of his plan, “with these.”

He pulled forth the clothing items from his backpack.

Morgana looked at them dejectedly. “Old lady clothes. Merlin if you’re going where I think you’re going with this I can’t.”

“Yes you can,” he countered, “because,” he fished around in the bottom of the backpack, “ta-da!”

“A grey wig,” Morgana said flatly.

“That’s right.” Merlin continued to smile goofily.

Morgana was dubious. “You think I’m going to be able to walk out of here dressed as an old lady with a wig on past the security nurse and countless other hospital staff?”

Merlin hid a grimace knowing that Morgana was not going to like this part of the plan. “Not exactly. No. What I thought was that if you could just hold an aging spell until we got off this level then, after that, we could rely on the disguise the rest of the way. Only initiate the spell again if needed.”

Morgana’s brows dipped. “Merlin I barely have the strength to walk out of here. I’m not in any fit state to do an aging spell for any amount of time. I simply can’t.”

Merlin saw the despair and disappointment taking hold of Morgana.

“Actually, um” Merlin began carefully, “I thought that might be the case and I
have a solution, Morgana.” He risked a glance at her eyes, they were waiting expectantly, there was no sign that she was aware of where he was heading with this, he only hoped she was desperate enough to agree. “Firstly, I brought your healing bracelet. I should have left it with you yesterday but with everything that happened I didn’t get a chance.”

Morgana reached for it reverently and stroked it fondly and she put it on. “I thought you might have it,” she said, “but I’m afraid it isn’t of much help where this wound is concerned.”

“I didn’t think so which is why I had something else in mind.” He dodged her eyes. “We’ll keep it short, limited, very brief, just long enough for us to--.”

Morgana’s eyes opened wide and she started shaking her head. “Merlin, you’re not suggesting . . . you can’t be, you wouldn’t?” She watched him, waiting for the answer, disbelief about as equal as her horror.

“A magic bond.” He confirmed with as careless a shrug as he could muster.

She was aghast. “A sharing of powers? Do you know how dangerous that could be? Will be with the condition I’m in? We could both die.”

“Yes.” He admitted seriously, “But we will only need the full strength of it a short time. I’m confident we could do it.”

“And the time frame afterwards?” Morgana argued. “It might be weeks or even months until we can break the bond completely considering the amount of magic I will need to repay you and then there’s . . .” she trailed as some other thought occurred, for a moment appearing terrified. “No,” she said determinedly. “I can’t let you do this.”

Merlin frowned. “Why not?”

“That’s my concern.” She stated brusquely.

“Your concern?” Merlin argued. “I’ve come here to help you.”

“I know!” Morgana snapped back.

“Then why are you being so stubborn? So secretive? Is it that you’re worried I’ll have some advantage over you? Learn some new power?”

Morgana’s dour face went positively livid. “You pompous . . . git! You think I’m worried about you having knowledge of a few more spells or access to my powers? I’m worried about the . . .” her voice fell from angry furore to tones reluctant, “the pain you’re going to feel, I won’t be able to repress it all of the time.” She turned her head refusing to look at him. 

She was embarrassed, he realised. He could only guess it was because she was expressing concern for him. 

Merlin scratched at his hair feeling slightly ashamed. “Oh.”

He had not at all considered that she was avoiding a bond for his sake. He had fallen into the same pattern of thinking the worst of her and yet her concern that he would feel pain could not be selfishly motivated. He wondered if he had become so mistrustful of everyone or was it just Morgana? Even now he was fighting some part of himself that was still suspicious of her, noting the way Morgana had lingered on the word pain as if it had particular significance when surely it was unimportant.

“I’ve felt pain before. I’ll be fine,” he said.

Morgana’s chin had been lifted and he was certain more argument was to follow but instead, she said. “Give me the clothes.”

Merlin handed them to her relieved.

She swung her legs over the bed to the floor, “but I’m doing the aging spell myself.”

“But-.”

“I said no Merlin!” Morgana insisted.

Merlin could feel a familiar frustration brewing. That stubborn Pendragon streak, that haughty demeanour. He had entangled with it in the past and the usual way to combat it was patience. . . and or just ignoring it however neither was an option here. Time was limited, if they were going to do this, they needed to do it soon.

Morgana meanwhile had bundled the clothes into her arms. There was a curtained bathroom in the corner where Merlin assumed she was intending to change.

He watched, arms folded as she took a deep breath, her body stiffened with defiance as she placed her feet upon the floor. Merlin could feel the intense magic she was drawing to her and so it was with little surprise he watched her take one faltering step before he found himself rushing to catch her as she collapsed.

“We’re not going to get far like this.” He spoke to her gently. “You’ve got to decide Morgana. Stay here or accept my help.”

Still collapsed against him, she lifted her head and shook it. “I can’t Merlin, look at me! As powerful as you are even you couldn’t sustain us both long enough to get out of here. I want to get out of here, you can’t know how much.”

Merlin noted the haunted look in Morgana’s eyes, the emphasis of her words and it gave him chills. What was she alluding to? Had something terrible happened to her in the last hospital? Whatever caused her to look so, it made him more determined to convince her to go now, to try now.

“I can do it, Morgana, it’s not for long. I’ve got a wheelchair waiting around the corner so you won’t have to walk far, then I can push you into the lift. It’ll be smooth sailing from there.”

She still looked unconvinced. Something more was holding her back, something Merlin didn’t know and didn’t have time to wheedle out of her.

Merlin hated to do it but he was aware that the longer they delayed the more chance they’d be interrupted before they even got a chance to leave. “Fine,” he said coldly. He lifted her to her feet. “Stay here. Get back in bed.” He folded his arms and waited.

Her lip quivered, her eyes were distant but finally she closed them slowly in resignation. “Alright Merlin we’ll do it but I want you to remember I tried to warn you.”

“I’ll remember.”

Merlin reached for her hands and she took his. “Ready?”

She nodded.

He could feel the magic building between them, a blending of his powers with Morgana’s, tethering them together. It was strangely exhilarating at first, like a charge of static that encompassed his body but the feeling was overwhelmed and finalised with a feeling of increasing fatigue, fortunately, mild at the moment. He could feel his magic flowing toward her and the strangeness of that same space being filled with a little magic not his own but despite Morgana’s warning very little pain.

Morgana was gathering the clothes for her disguise once more, but she still struggled.

“You’re stifling the connection,” Merlin noticed.

“I’m only going to take what I need when I need it,” Morgana said.

Merlin sighed. “Stubborn Pendragons” He grumbled after her as she went to change.

Finally, she emerged wearing the pink cardigan, grey slacks and wig. She looked a little absurd at the moment but that was about to change.

“You’ll have to enact the aging spell from your end,” Merlin said.

“I know,” Morgana said, “but if it gets too much for you promise me you’ll tell me.”

“I promise.” Merlin nodded.

Morgana prepared, the spell was uttered and the power went rushing out of him as Morgana drew on it, for a moment he felt her wound throb, it’s magic was wild and thrashing as if desperate for something from him but before he had a chance to fully understand it Morgana had dampened their connection once more.

Merlin was extremely impressed by her control. He could sense that she was directing most of the magic energy of their bond to feed the aging spell and only a little more to keep herself upright. Still, he was mildly perturbed at the power drain in himself. He staggered slightly.

“See, it is too much even for you.” Morgana worried.

“It’s just an adjustment,” Merlin shook his head. Perhaps he had not fully comprehended just how much power two aging spells would take. He supposed that when he usually started the spell he was young in body, this time however he had begun it already aged, still, it was manageable for now. “I’m fine but let’s do this.”

Morgana doubtful but compliant shuffled along behind him while Merlin weakly pulled open the door. He glanced at her face and could see she was frightened. He took her arm and put it through his as they continued toward the nurse station. Merlin was hoping Morgana would not object to his support but he did not expect that she would lean into him slightly as they hobbled on. He supposed she was still finding it difficult to walk.

“Follow my lead, we just need to distract the nurse for a moment,” Merlin said. 

“Hey!” The desk nurse called as they attempted to pass. “Who are you, where did you come from?”

Merlin let go of Morgana and approached the desk. “What do you mean by shouting at us young woman? We’re old, not deaf and we just came in not five minutes ago, I signed in, showed you my id and now we kindly ask that you let us out again.”

“You signed in but she didn’t. How did you get in here?”

“In? In?” Merlin raised his voice incredulously. “Why my wife came in with me, she was standing right here while I was doing the paperwork.”

“No she wasn’t.” The nurse argued.

Merlin turned conspiratorially to Morgana and shook his head sadly. “Overworked. It’s the NHS for you, ever since that whatsaname a few decades ago, it’s never been the same.”

Morgana’s grey hair bobbed, her voice crackling with age. “You’re so right, husband. Poor thing is probably underpaid too and I bet she’s the competent one, always having to pick up others’ slack. Am I right?” Morgana came closer and patted the nurse’s hand. “Oh, my dear, you don’t have to answer that it’s very clear.”

The nurse looked somewhat uncomfortable. “I don’t remember you standing –.”

“And the doctors,” Morgana said smoothly, “they need reminding about everything, don’t they.”

Merlin was amazed at Morgana’s ability to improvise such conversation, of course, if she’d been around nurses when she’d been institutionalised she’d probably heard it all.

But now it was Merlin’s turn to do his job. While Morgana had the attention of the nurse he shifted his eyes to the wastepaper bin, his eyes glowed as he whispered. “Forbearnan”

The nurse’s reaction was almost immediate at the sound of crackling and the acrid smell of smoke. Turning and seeing the fire, she let out a gasp. “Oh my, how?”

Merlin’s gaze had already swung to the button that opened the automatic doors, beyond the desk, far from his reach.

“Beþrycce” he spoke to it. The button trembled slightly but nothing more. Merlin felt his breathing labour. It should not have been this difficult to focus his magic for such a simple spell. There was something more happening than a simple drain of magic, though that was certainly happening at an alarming rate. Something was dampening the magic, his magic.

Morgana’s eyes had gone wide. He concentrated, the words came forcefully from him, “Beþrycce.”

The button moved reluctantly and at last depressed all the way and the automatic doors began to open.

Merlin and Morgana moved towards the door. “Thank you kindly,” Merlin said politely to the nurse.

The nurse swung her eyes to the doors confusedly then back to the fire. “I didn’t do that. Oh, perhaps it’s electrical!” She cried exasperated. “Oh go, go.” She dismissed them hurrying to the wall to get the nearby fire extinguisher.

Morgana had taken his arm again and was leaning on him a little more heavily as they passed out the exit. Her hand was trembling slightly against him. Merlin realised for all her bravado and improvisation, she was terrified. “Not long,” he reassured her. “The wheelchair is just around the corner and then we’ll be able to move more quickly.”

And it would be just as well. Merlin’s muscles were aching and he was trying hard to hide the puffing of each breath, he had already lost a significant amount of magic and would not be able to keep up two aging spells for much longer let alone deal with any unforeseen complications.

They turned the corner and Merlin stared at the empty floor. The wheelchair was nowhere to be seen.

“I left it here!” Merlin complained. Some well-meaning orderly had been too efficient.

“What will we do?” Morgana’s eyes darted back and forth along the corridor.

“We’ll find another on the way.”

“Merlin, I . . .” Morgana sagged and eyelids fluttered. Her hand was against the wound and she looked dangerously close to collapsing.

“You’ve got to draw more power, Morgana,” Merlin ordered.

She shook her head, “you’re already struggling.”

“If you pass out it isn’t going to help me any is it?” He hissed back. “When we get to the lift, we’ll let your aging spell go. I’ll be fine.”

“You said that before.” Morgana shot back but her words didn’t contain much fire.

They had to walk a long corridor before they came to the lift. Both of them supported each other. Merlin found each step more difficult than the last. In the end it was Morgana that seemed to drive them the last few metres, reaching out her wrinkled fingers to summon the elevator.

“I’m letting it go as soon as we’re inside,” Morgana said.

Merlin could only nod. Morgana’s disguise would have to do the job from here if Anna Emrys was found missing before they got out of the hospital.

The doors parted and Merlin almost growled aloud in frustration. A doctor stood within and not just any doctor but the very same whom Merlin had spoken to earlier.

Merlin heard Morgana gasp which she followed with a slight disguising cough. The doctor met Merlin’s eyes but there was no recognition, only impatience that the two would get in.

Morgana was hanging back, Merlin did not have the strength to urge her onward but the longer they stayed on this floor the more danger they were in. Morgana must have known this for she slowly but determinedly hobbled into the lift.

Merlin was just behind her when he felt it. Or rather he didn’t feel it. There was no magic rushing back as there might have been if he had ended a spell himself just a slowing down of the power that was pouring out of him.
He risked a panicked glance at Morgana. She was tugging at the wig and keeping her face down but there was no disguising the smooth skin of her hands. She had ended the aging spell.

She had sidled past the doctor and Merlin now sought to put himself between the two. The lift was already slowing for the next floor. Merlin hoped they didn’t run into anyone else who might get a good enough look at Morgana to recognise her.

He held his breath as the doors opened again but for once things seemed to be in their favour. The doctor departed and no one else got in.

“I’m sorry Merlin, I couldn’t keep going with the aging spell.” Morgana’s words came out breathy and she was leaning against the wall.

With less magical demand on him, Merlin suddenly became aware of an underlying throbbing sensation. It was Morgana’s wound that he could feel and he knew she hadn’t been directing magic to it. In fact, it seemed as if she were deliberately focusing his magic away from it, using what little she had of her own to do it! Was she so concerned with him feeling the pain? Was it such a sinkhole of power? He could feel how truly weak she was right now, all the magic she took from him was going towards keeping her upright.

At this point she would not make it to the exit. So he forced more energy her way, she was too weak to repel it or at least her magic was. Her tongue seemed to have an energy of its own.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“We’ll talk about it later.”

The lift doors finally opened on the ground floor and Merlin noted there were still no wheelchairs in sight but it was a long winding corridor walk to the exit. Morgana was doing a little better now with the energy he’d given her but it wouldn’t last long and looking for a chair might waste what little they had left.

“Do you think you can keep going without a chair?”

“Yes,” Morgana said but Merlin realised that her answer would never have been no.

Perhaps there was something to be said for the Pendragon stubbornness after all for it would probably keep her going longer than most.

A few personnel and patients passed them, but none of them gave the old couple much notice, concerned with their problems or business. So far there had been no sign of pursuit.

The corridor had never seemed so long before and Merlin felt his steps getting heavier again but at last, they entered the foyer. He felt relieved at finally seeing the exit and even more relieved when together they breathed the outdoor air.

They were not yet safe, not far enough away to drop their guard and Merlin did not want to leave any kind of trail that might set the hospital or police on their trail.

They were lucky to find a taxi in the car park and getting in Merlin made sure to keep the driver from viewing Morgana properly as she settled in the rear seat. Merlin sat beside her, his tired feet cheered as he relieved them of his own weight. He could not remember ever having felt this weary, not even during times of illness. Morgana must have been feeling similarly for her head fell gently against his shoulder. It was nice, he thought hazily, the way she felt against him but the thought brought him to full alertness. Nice! How could he think so? This was the woman who had schemed and succeeded in killing Arthur, who had tortured and murdered Gwaine and set up a trap that killed Elyan, who had indirectly caused Lancelot’s death and then heinously turned the noble knight into a shade, not to mention all she had done to Guinevere. He had no right to forget those grievances or to forgive Morgana.

In an instant, Merlin felt a sharp increase of pain from Morgana’s wound. It thrashed within her sending out sharp piercing bolts.

Morgana gasped, her hand clasping her side and her face contorting.

The sudden relapse caused Merlin to remember that she had been punished and continuously. He had told himself that he wouldn’t have chosen that for her, that death would have been sufficient but his anger a moment ago suggested that a dark part of him didn’t quite agree. It disturbed him greatly and as Morgana shifted in her seat, forehead beaded with sweat he was relieved as he felt the pain in the wound abate.

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly.

“Don’t Merlin.” Her eyes shot to his and glared. “Don’t pretend to care. We both know perfectly well you don’t.”

Merlin didn’t perfectly know this, in truth, he was feeling very conflicted but her attitude was galling. “Can you blame me?”

“Yes,” she snapped, “and no.”

It was honest and it seemed he was not the only one feeling conflicted.

Morgana tugged on the wig she was wearing. “Why did you help me? I mean I appreciate it but why?”

It was a very loaded question. “Answers,” he said, “to questions about Aithusa, your death.” It was the simplest response, the easiest one to identify and give her but Merlin knew it was the least of his motivations.

“I see,” she said, “then it would be a very unpleasant time for us both no doubt if I refused the answers, considering we’re bonded for the next while.”

Merlin frowned.

“Don’t worry, I have no objection to telling you what I can but you take a lot for granted Merlin . . . always did.”

Merlin supposed she might be right but he’d also realised that the taxi driver had turned the radio down slightly. Likely in an attempt to better hear their conversation which must surely seem strange, even concerning. The driver made a quick glance in his mirror at the passengers and Merlin attempted a disarming smile while Morgana kept her head down to conceal her true age.

“I think the driver might be a problem,” Merlin whispered.

Morgana nodded, she too had noticed it and then she did something surprising. “Do you think it’s a good idea to go back to your home?” The words came into his mind as naturally as if she’d spoken them.

“Driver aside,” she continued in his mind, “the hospital will surely call you, maybe even send police to look for me there.”

Merlin took a moment to acknowledge her telepathy, it was only natural that she like the druids, like himself could speak so – if he’d only known yesterday what a help that might have been!

He turned his mind to her question. “If I’m not at home there will be even more suspicion. I’d like to keep my current life if possible besides as far as the hospital knows young Merlin was never there at the time of your escape.”

She nodded. “So, it’s just the driver to worry about.”

“Yes.” Merlin bit his lip. It was entirely possible they were being paranoid. The driver might well just go on with his day. Perhaps strange conversations and oddly dressed passengers were the norm or a novelty. He might also go report this weird couple to someone or be interviewed by the hospital or police. Well, if so, Merlin would have to rely on his aged persona doing all the deceiving for them.

It was not long before the taxi arrived at their destination, a few doors down from Merlin’s actual address. The driver was quick to jump out.

“Let me help you,” the man offered coming around to the rear passenger door.

Merlin realised what he was about. This driver wanted to get a better look at Morgana.

“That’s alright young man, we’re quite able.” Merlin attempted to fend him off. “Aren’t we?”

“Perfectly,” Morgana feigned an aged voice and busied herself with her cardigan buttons.

“I insist.”

“Er -.”

Morgana sighed and she lifted her face into full view. “Give it up Merlin, let him help.”

Merlin couldn’t believe she’d given up so easily and given out his name so clearly. Was this to get at him? Ruin any hope of him returning to the life he had built after he’d just explained how important it was.

“Will you get out before we completely lose our remaining strength?” Morgana prompted.

There wasn’t much more to do. “Thanks a lot,” Merlin grumbled to Morgana as he exited.

Morgana allowed the driver to help her out. “Thank you,” she said pleasantly. “Now I’m sure you have other fares.”

The driver looked set to hesitate but giving one last thorough glance at Merlin returned to his vehicle.

“That’s just great,” Merlin exclaimed, “he just got a full description of the two of us.”

“For goodness sake Merlin,” Morgana huffed. “He was already a problem waiting for a remedy and I have just the one.”

Merlin was alarmed as Morgana stretched out her hand and before he could stop her eyes glowed and she whispered “forġiete.”

By the time she turned back toward him Merlin had covered his dread. Morgana had commanded the driver to forget them. It was clever, it was wise, it was something Merlin should have thought of himself but he had not. He had also not thought Morgana was going to be so benign. It wasn’t that he had formed a notion of what harm she might intend only that Morgana’s magic was never something he had trusted.

“You needn’t be so surprised Merlin,” Morgana upbraided. “He is not my enemy.”

Clearly Merlin had not been quick enough in covering his alarm.

“Am I?” Merlin couldn’t help but ask.

“Only you can answer that.”

Merlin was not sure he could. “Let’s get in,” he said.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter Text

What little energy Morgana had regained in the taxi was now expended as she entered Merlin’s home. In hindsight she realised that she should have urged Merlin to spell the driver instead of drawing on what magic she had left but then Merlin was not much better off. Through the magical bond she could feel his exhaustion as much as her own and this was confirmed as she watched him collapse into a chair even as the aging spell dissipated. She was glad to see him young, it still disturbed her to see him as old Emrys even if they were one and the same person.

Morgana had instinctively bypassed the single chair that Merlin now occupied and instead aimed for the chaise that was shoved against the wall. She sank into it without disturbing the papers that were piled on one end.

Merlin’s home was pleasant enough, very much him but she was in no mood to offer polite observations. She was not only exhausted but irritated by Merlin’s moods and recriminations. She understood. She did. She knew what she had done to him. She knew that he had every reason to hate her and that any regrets she expressed would not change his opinion of her but she did not think that he accepted that she was entitled to feel the same about him. He thought himself faultless in all that he did. Perhaps that was what irked her the most or was it that she felt sadness rather than anger that what had passed between them could not ever be forgotten or forgiven?

She watched as Merlin breathed a couple of deep breaths, already starting to regain some strength. He opened his eyes and stared straight into hers.

She braced herself, everything suddenly tense, convinced Merlin was going to start peppering her with questions about the past but she wasn’t ready to answer them. She’d only been half truthful when she said she had no objection to answering him. There was so much she wanted to say, to confess, to shout but some things she wanted to - no, had to hide. She was too weary for a battle of wits. Could not Merlin allow them a few moments of truce?

Merlin leant forward to speak, then suddenly, hesitated. “Do you want anything? Water, tea?”

Morgana was taken aback. She read it in his face, he wasn’t ready to ask the questions either, or, perhaps wasn’t ready for the answers. “Some water would be lovely but only if you’re really up for it, Merlin.”

He nodded just the once as he stood. He returned a moment later and handed her the glass.

“Thank you,” Morgana said.

Merlin returned to his chair drinking a glass of his own.

“I mean that Merlin,” she said, “not just for the water. I am grateful for what you have done and I know you had every reason not to help me.”

Merlin waved her off. “Let’s not Morgana, let’s not rehash the past.”

He spoke it but Morgan felt the wound in her side squirm.

Merlin frowned. “Has it always been this bad?”

“No,” Morgana shook her head cursing the bond that let him in on her pain. She had known at their joining that there was only so long she could fight Merlin from discovering the truth about it. She dreaded to think what he might do. He could not be allowed to have that knowledge until after she persuaded him to see Aithusa, after that, it would be too late. “It comes and goes.” She answered, “Aithusa helps.”

“Of course!” Merlin said. “I see.”

He had come to some sort of conclusion but Morgana didn’t think it likely to be correct.

She waited for him to ask more, hoped that he might ask her something about Aithusa and give her anything that might help in ensuring his compliance with her plans but he said nothing. Had his desire to see Aithusa been fleeting?

Finally, he cleared his throat. “I got your things, from your tent, so you’d have clothes and stuff. I put them upstairs.”

“That was thoughtful of you.” She could not think of what else to say.

After a moment of awkward silence, he took to his feet. “I better call the hospital, keep up the pretence.”

Morgana nodded. She listened as he asked about her to the hospital’s reception, Merlin mouthed that he was on hold and they waited in silence. Finally, she heard Merlin voice his dismay that ‘Anna’ had left the hospital. He did a fair job of sounding outraged and concerned, he was not over the top, not too dismissive and Morgana frowned remembering that she had been on the end of Merlin’s lies – how did he do it so easily. He finished his conversation with the hospital agreeing that it was very serious that she had left against medical advice and that he would urge ‘Anna’ to return if and when he saw her again.

“They might send the police.” Morgana told him as he hung up the phone, “I was an involuntary patient once before.”

Merlin sighed. “Let’s not worry about that now. We will deal with that if it happens. If all else fails I can put a confusion spell on my home so no one can find it.”

Morgana fiddled with her water cup as she swallowed the last of it in an attempt to hold back tears. She understood how much he was risking in this, his whole established life here could be ruined. He was as confusing as ever, one moment simmering with irritation, then offering kindness and pragmatism.

“You ought to rest,” he said quietly, “If you think you can make it upstairs?”

Morgana nodded. She’d find the strength, anything to get away from the gentle blue eyes that cut her to pieces and then pitied her for it.

“We should stop the power-sharing first.” Morgana reminded Merlin.

“Do you think you should?” Merlin asked. “Don’t you think we should wait until you’ve regained more strength?”

“I’ll be fine,” she said firmly, she was weak but the bond might just as easily harm as help her.

“You say that,” he argued, “but I can feel how weak you are. I think it is too risky to break my magic off. You should use this time to heal more. If I stop the flow of magic from myself we’ll still be partially bonded anyway, unable to part each other’s company completely until our magic has equalised and we’ll still have some residual power-sharing.”

Morgana huffed. “I told you I didn’t care about you gaining knowledge of my spells.” It was true, her worries lay with hiding the true nature of the wound from Merlin and all its implications. Besides, she thought dismissively, Merlin was the greater sorcerer of the two of them. If anyone should be guarding knowledge it was him --.

Oh my!

It was like an unexpected thunderclap. How had she not thought of it! Could she get what she needed from him without leading him to Aithusa? Could she use the bond to scour his mind and his powers? It would have to be when he slept. Getting away from him after, that could be a problem unless she had enough energy to pay him back for the bond –if she did so too soon it could kill her but it would be worth the risk and time was of the essence.  “Perhaps you’re right though,” she conceded demurely, “about the risk. Maybe I should wait until tomorrow.”

 “I think it’s best,” Merlin said.

Morgana turned away from the eyes that held hers. They invited trust, they promised help but it was a cruel lie. If he ever got the answers to all his questions, he would oppose her and use his dragonlord powers on Aithusa. She couldn’t take that chance. She’d try and get the knowledge from him tonight and only take him to Aithusa if she had to.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was stuffy in the spare room, Merlin thought as he lay against its bed. He had made the right choice in putting Morgana in his room which got a breeze and where she would hopefully be comfortable enough in the larger bed. Somehow, he’d not been able to think of putting the lady Morgana in conditions that were less than her previous station would have expected. It was stupid, he thought, for she had probably slept in worse places and it was the 21^st century and he was no longer anyone’s servant and his room was nothing special but there it was just the same, some sort of misplaced chivalry. Of course, her wound did lend a certain sympathy . . . or guilt.

He stared at the ceiling, his thoughts practically vibrating now that he had a moment to himself. Why didn’t you ask her about Aithusa? Why had Aithusa never answered his call? Why hadn’t he asked Morgana about her own death or lack of? His blood pummelled against his skin and he felt ill. Was Morgana like him? Seemingly immortal? Was that it? If so, did she know that? There was so much he should have asked but he’d hesitated, terrified of the answers. There would be time tomorrow for questions, the magical bond had assured him of that. He just wasn’t sure he could find the courage to ask them. What if the answers were useless to him?

His head had begun to throb. He didn’t usually get headaches it was not something he’d ever suffered from. He wondered if Morgana still had them, he could sense that she was still at the moment, her magic at rest, slowly, very slowly building and it occurred to him that if he could sense her then his agitation could also be detected by her. He made a conscious effort to calm down.

The pressure in his head seemed to be making it harder for him to think, his jaw ached and his eyes had trouble making out the ceiling. He closed them.


There was a flash of sudden light, so bright that it whited out all he could see. Darkness crept in at the sides revealing a still dazzling white shape, a pale dragon’s face. It was Aithusa.

Her gaze was imploring, her magnificent eyes were all he could see clearly, and her body seemed to stretch behind her as if it were unattached or insignificant Her face was the only thing that he beheld and a single tear fell from her eye. Fell, fell, fell but it did not splash before the tears and the eyes were those of Morgana, grieved and angry.

She was shouting, turning from him, running out of a cave and by its opening he saw gorse flowers in bloom. Another image flashed, it was a grave. The sky had darkened, there was a village, a graveyard and people huddled around a fresh grave. The headstone was inscribed and Merlin saw that it read Anna Emrys.

The image dissolved once more to yet another and in an instant, he saw himself as one sees a reflection. He stood at the base of Glastonbury Tor, giving an anguished cry, all around him the Earth was desolate and dead. All things were devoid of life and Merlin alone in it lived on. He was reminded of the Fisherking, sitting alone in his decaying realm but there was no one coming to save Merlin, there was not a soul left alive to set him free.

Merlin’s eyes shot open and a protesting cry was on his lips as he sat up in bed, sweat on his forehead. There was a sound at the door, a figure casting a shadow.

“Merlin, are you alright. I heard you cry out.”

It was Morgana, his brain concluded, of course it was, she was staying here.

“Merlin?” she said again.

Merlin ran his shaking hands through his hair getting only halfway before clasping his head as if to remove the images he had seen.

“You had a vision!” Morgana gasped, she had moved closer now and was sitting on his bed suddenly all concern. “I’m so sorry. I never considered that you might suffer my seer’s power.”

“It wasn’t a vision!” Merlin insisted alarmed. He pulled back the covers and took to his feet. “It wasn’t a vision,” he repeated. “Just a nightmare, a nightmare. I must have fallen asleep.”

Only he hadn’t. He knew he hadn’t.

Morgana ignored his assertion, she looked alarmed. “What did you see Merlin?”

“I don’t want to talk about it!” Merlin looked away from those green eyes, the same eyes he’d seen filled with tears in the vision. He paced the room.

“Sorry, I know I never wanted to talk about it,” Morgana said, “at least, not at first.”

Merlin was barely aware that she had spoken, he kept seeing the last image of his vision. Himself alone, utterly.

“Would you prefer I go?” Morgana asked tentatively.

Merlin panicked at the idea but found he was too full of emotion to voice an answer and so he simply shook his head.

She seemed to understand and stayed where she was, sitting primly or coldly or indifferent. Merlin in his agitated state didn’t know but she sat there with him and for that he was grateful. He rubbed his arms feeling frightfully cold. “I’ve tried to die you know.” It came bubbling out of him, the broken silence surprising even himself.

Morgana didn’t respond. She was there, he knew, listening, waiting patiently as he laid his weakness before her but what did it matter now?

“Many times,” he continued. “Poison, wounds, spells - electrocution when that became a thing, amulets, drowning, some things unintentionally by others hands but I always wake, days or hours later. I haven’t tried everything of course. I wouldn’t want to lose a limb and I’ve been careful about where it happens – I didn’t want to wake up buried alive for eternity or being eaten by wild animals but I can’t . .  I can’t die. What does it mean Morgana? What does it mean? Why can’t I die?” He finally raised his eyes to her.

“I don’t know.” She sat still, arms folded in her lap but her eyes were glistening and pitying.

Merlin found it unnerved him further. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected or wanted from her but he had not prepared himself for compassion.

“No one does,” he lamented, choking back emotion. He turned from her hastily wiping his tears but she had crossed the room and startlingly took his hands.

Her hands felt warm and they held his so tenderly and those green eyes of hers continued to offer commiseration. For one terrible moment he hoped she would throw her arms around him instead of standing there distantly but she couldn’t, wouldn’t take that risk with him even if she felt some desire to. Not when he had so rejected her in the past. Not after all that had happened between them. And he couldn’t take her in his arms, couldn’t have clung to her as if she was something vital and alive. Pride wouldn’t allow it. Pride and fear as his hands trembled against hers.

“Maybe,” she ventured hesitantly, “maybe Aithusa has the answers. She knows a great deal from her memories of the ancient dragons.”

“Aithusa,” Merlin repeated dazedly, “How could she have the answers?” Merlin said.

“Genetic memory. All dragons have it, that is why their knowledge is so vast. I will take you to see her.”

The memory of the white dragon and her tears falling to the earth filled Merlin’s mind. “No!” He shied away from Morgana. “I can’t see Aithusa. I won’t.”

“Why not?” Morgana was suddenly angry.

Angry like she had been in the vision. Merlin felt ill.

“You saw her didn’t you,” Morgana said, coming to her own conclusion and seemingly greatly affected. “In your vision. You saw her and she died, didn’t she? She died!” Morgana folded her arms over herself and moaned. “But you can stop that Merlin. You can help her. You’re a dragonlord. You’ve got to help her!” She came forward again her entire manner pleading.

Merlin was suddenly attentive. “What are you talking about Morgana. How can I help her? Why would I need to?”

Morgana took in a deep breath. “Aithusa is sick, not just sick but dying. I came here to find you, to see if I could make you come back with me to heal her. To see if you were still harbouring ill will or if you could be trusted. How much you knew about –,” She broke off, “to see if you would be willing to help.”

Merlin stared at Morgana, wringing her hands. Aithusa was dying? What did this all mean? His vision of the future had shown him Aithusa shedding tears, no sign of her being ill, nor her death but Morgana’s news didn’t improve things. What she said could still be true. The images or events he had seen did not seem to be related to one another, at least not on the surface but past experience had taught him otherwise. Anytime he had such visions forced upon him they had gone exactly as he had seen them, events playing in some order and worst of all he usually had been the cause of the events unfolding the way they did.

He felt that seeing Aithusa in the flesh might be the catalyst for Morgana’s death which would then lead to him living on and on in a world that he would eventually outlive. Merlin sat heavily back on the bed, head in hands. Not that the horror of living forever hadn’t already occurred to him but he had supposed, until now, that Arthur would return and somehow that might change things.

Morgana knelt beside him. “You told me yourself that you are a dragonlord, charged with their care. Don’t you have a responsibility to help Aithusa?”

“You don’t understand, the things I saw.” Merlin agonised. “The vision, all of it began with Aithusa.”

Morgana did not miss a beat. “Then that is where you must start to change things, with Aithusa. With helping her, with healing her.”

Merlin shook his head. “You don’t even know what I saw.”

“Then tell me,” Morgana urged. Her tone was gentle but Merlin detected that she was fearful too. Her body was rigid as if preparing herself for a blow.

Merlin thought of the gravestone he had seen, with Morgana’s alias name on it. He had not processed the images much beyond the final horror and was unable to begin to understand how Morgana’s death made him feel, let alone relaying it to her. He dropped his eyes, “I can’t.”

“Listen to me Merlin,” Morgana said gently, “seers were taught long ago that visions are only given when there is a chance to change things.”

Merlin shook his head despondently. “I’ve tried to change things before Morgana but everything I see comes to pass no matter how I try to prevent it.”

“Then you didn’t try hard enough.” She was firm.

Merlin shook his head. “I tried, believe me, I tried! I tried to keep Arthur alive, to stop you, to stop Mordred – the only time I was successful was saving Arthur from being drowned by the Sidhe and I didn’t have that vision – you did. Sometimes the things I did seem to cause it to happen. I can’t risk it.”

Morgana paused a moment. “The Sidhe?” She shivered. “I remember that vision, that girl – that happened?” She came back to the moment and then shook her head. “It took me a long time to know it Merlin but visions are not to be feared. They are what could be, not what will be.”

“I’m telling you that hasn’t been my experience, Morgana.” He maintained. “Everything I see comes to pass, no matter what I did to prevent it.”

“Then you didn’t make the right choices,” Morgana said harshly, getting to her feet. “What you see, what comes to pass is what will happen if you remain on the same path. Whether it is your actions or your attitude. If you see things that you wish to change then you must be open to taking a different path than the one you might have chosen before the vision.”

Morgana’s voice was almost eldritch with her instruction. A true seer, Merlin supposed. Still, prophecy had done him no favours. It had only ever caused him pain. . . as had Morgana. She was awfully free with her information about the visions and this was the first time he’d had any hint of Aithusa requiring his help.

Merlin stood. “How can I believe you Morgana? When we first met you weren’t going to tell me where Aithusa was, now you say she’s dying. I thought you were against me seeing her. Now you tell me that you wanted me to go to her all along.”

Morgana huffed. “I explained that. I wasn’t sure if you’d harm her.”

Merlin felt his anger increasing at the insinuation. “Why are you so convinced I would do something to harm Aithusa?”

Morgana shifted uneasily and took longer than necessary to answer. “You, she, us, we don’t have the greatest history.”

Merlin watched the way her eyes darted away from his. “There’s something you’re not saying.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She lifted her chin haughtily.

He hated when she did that, it meant she was going to stubbornly fight admitting anything. “Yes you do,” he asserted. “I’m tired of lies Morgana, if you can’t tell me what you are hiding then I’m certainly not going anywhere.”

Her brows dipped and she shook her head anxiously. “What about Aithusa? She needs your help!”

“I only have your word for that,” he snapped back. She had told too many lies for him to take anything for granted.

Morgana took a step back genuinely shocked. “I’m telling you the truth!”

Merlin looked at her coldly. “You’re not telling me everything.”

“I’ve told you everything that matters,” she insisted obstinately.

He was not going to be taken for a fool. “There’s always an angle with you Morgana isn’t there? Some secret purpose.”

Her jaw set and her chin tilted. “I wasn’t the one with secrets Emrys!”

Her implication was obvious but the things he’d kept from her were different. Merlin gritted his teeth; this was getting him nowhere. “I’m going downstairs.” He stomped out of the room without looking back.

How he was going to put up with that deceitful woman until they could break this magical bond he didn’t know! He darkly wondered if killing her while it was still in place would finally do himself in. Could it be that was ‘the other path’ he needed to take to avoid the future? He thought that it would be rather ironic if the advice Morgana had given him lead to their deaths. Poetic even.

You don’t mean that Merlin, Gwen’s warm voice scolded him within his mind. It's been a long day and you’re tired. Besides, I know you. You couldn’t kill her just so you can die and not when Arthur has told you that you have to set things right.

“Arthur didn’t tell me that,” Merlin thought back. “Arthur was a figment of my imagination, a spectre conjured by madness. My madness.” Merlin swallowed hard.  “He’s never coming back Gwen and the vision proves it.”

Gwen was silent.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter Text

Morgana crossed her arms and bit her trembling lip as she watched Merlin stomp out of the room. What was she to do? She couldn’t tell him the whole truth because she knew what he would choose and it would be Arthur. He would let Aithusa die, no matter what he said about being a dragonlord, no matter his supposed ideals.

But if she didn’t tell Merlin something believable, if she couldn’t convince him in some way to go with her then Aithusa would die anyway. That was unless she was able to find how to heal the white dragon via raiding Merlin’s mind.

Morgana pulled at her dressing gown agitatedly, she should have kept to that plan. She should not have revealed Aithusa’s plight to Merlin. Morgana sighed, she had not meant to tell him but she had been profoundly moved by Merlin’s distress, by his confessions of attempted suicide and she found herself offering Aithusa’s help impulsively.

It had seemed so natural to manoeuvre Merlin for his good as well as theirs. It had seemed prudent to hedge her bets in getting his help but Merlin had not been swayed by the knowledge of Aithusa’s illness at all. That surprised and disturbed Morgana.

What sort of man was Merlin now? Had he changed so much? Would he really allow fears of the future to prevent him from helping Aithusa? Merlin had never been cowardly but he had always been stubborn. She had admired that dedication to his own ideals once, maybe she still did, however, changing his mind could be vital if she couldn’t succeed in finding the power and knowledge from him. If it came to that she had no idea what she would do. She still could not fathom why Merlin had helped her when it was evident he still blamed her for the past. It seemed he was to remain an enigma even after all these years.

She paced Merlin’s spare room a few times but her legs were still shaky from her wound. Halting to steady herself, she noticed for the first time that many paintings were hanging on the walls of this room and many canvases were stacked against the sides of the room. They were landscapes mostly but as she looked further, she noticed they were familiar.

Camelot.

Not in its glory but crumbling away through the eras. It seemed Merlin had become a painter.

Curiosity drew her to the stacked canvases and she flipped through them. Dark figures in a forest, lonely figures in poses of despair and ghostly shapes were reoccurring themes. Morgana was surprised to find the once optimistic youth had a grim style. After further thought she acknowledged that it wasn’t strange, so many years of life naturally came with suffering. It had to be expressed somewhere.

She stopped as she came across a self-portrait, half the face was young Merlin and the other old Emrys. She wondered if Merlin saw himself that way too, as two people, the sorcerer and the man. Looking closer she wondered if it weren’t more, as if the two worlds were separate to him, magic and daily life. Morgana had never seen it that way even before she had been able to put a name to her powers, they were part of her in every moment. Whether she was the Lady Morgana of Camelot or the high priestess.

She put the self-portrait back when another caught her eye. The painting depicted an old apothecary bottle lying open on its side, it sat in the palm of a hand. The contents pooled and dripped over the fingertips, looking like blood. The label on the bottle was the most surprising thing of all, beneath the skull and crossbones it read guilt.

Morgana was disturbed by the artwork. Merlin may have been drawing on any number of experiences or none when he painted it but she couldn’t deny that it made her think of one particularly personal instance.

It made her shudder, she could almost feel the weakness creeping over her limbs again, the burning that took her breath and made each gasp an agony, those eyes, his eyes, pitying and yet stoically committed to doing that to her. She couldn’t trust him, not again. Not with Aithusa’s life.
 
She had kept Aithusa safe from him all these years. Kept Merlin’s dragonlord powers at bay and did her best with glamours and confusion spells to hide their whereabouts.  Still, the clues were there plain enough. Morgana had to use them herself to find Aithusa once she had served her time with the Sidhe. 

Morgana was somewhat surprised that Merlin hadn’t done all he could to find Aithusa. Surprised, that he hadn’t figured out for himself what was needed to bring Arthur back, or at least the most logical first step. For a dragonlord he had not devoted much attention to dragon powers but then Morgana had prevented that as best she could. She had scoured the globe trying to hide such information from him unsure if it was too late, uncertain that it would do any good. When she had finally confronted him in the café, she had not been sure of his knowledge, it was only when he’d made assumptions about her wound, she realised he couldn’t possibly know about Aithusa’s role.

She had only risked an encounter with Merlin now because things were desperate. There was little to lose. However, now she’d been given another way to find the knowledge she needed via their magical bond. A happy circumstance? Destiny? All that mattered was that she find it, somewhere within his sleeping mind would be the spell or the potion or whatever it was that could heal Aithusa. It was there, she knew it was, Aithusa had told her so.

Morgana need only wait for him to sleep . . . but his visions had affected him. He would keep himself from sleeping this night. Morgana knew from experience. She was worried about the delay. Aithusa was already weak, every day was a risk but entering Merlin’s mind while he was conscious would not be possible.

Morgana’s eyes lit as she turned the matter in her mind. The answer was so simple. She could give him her healing bracelet, that would ease his fears of the visions and keep him asleep when he did nod off. She had only to find the words and demeanour appropriate to give it to him so that he did not suspect her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Merlin sat at the kitchen table and stared glumly into his glass of brandy. He didn’t usually drink - not anymore. It had not helped after Arthur’s death or anyone else’s. It had not eased the madness that had overtaken him when Camelot had finally been overthrown and Arthur had not reappeared to defend it. What was Albion’s darkest hour if not then? Merlin’s brows drew together fiercely, that was when he should have realised it was all a lie. All a cruel lie. Arthur was not coming back.

Yet, somehow Merlin had gone on from that time in the Caledonian forest. He’d had moments of despair, given up or tried to and then he had convinced himself to go on again, to have hope or pretend to but now that horrid vision had confirmed his greatest fears.

Arthur wasn’t coming back. He really wasn’t. Merlin was going to be alone. None of his life made sense but maybe there were no answers to seek. All of the questions he’d had seemed unimportant. Who cared why magic had gone? Who cared why the stories of Camelot persisted and changed? Who cared where Morgana had been all this time? It was obvious she had survived Excalibur with Aithusa’s help and so that was one less question anyway. Let Morgana keep her secrets, he would not press her for them.

His thoughts were interrupted by footsteps, he continued to stare at the table.

“Merlin,” Morgana began softly, “I’m sorry.”

“Can we just not,” said Merlin hunching closer to his brandy. More lies or the truth, whatever she had to say he did not want to hear it.

Morgana said nothing in response but she came alongside him and placed an object on the table beside him.

Her healing bracelet.

She pushed it towards him. “It’s just you’ve done a lot for me over the past few days Merlin and well I know what it is to be afraid to sleep after . . .  a nightmare, so I thought you might want this.”

Merlin lifted his head and cocked it to the side. “You’re giving me your bracelet?”

“As a loan,” she responded, “until we break our powersharing and the seer’s ability wears off.”

Merlin downed his drink in one go. It did nothing to ease the thick feeling in his throat. Seers, he thought sneeringly, visions, prophecy, destiny – what was the point? They robbed you of what little joy there was. “Why would you? Why would you want to?”

“Lend the bracelet to you?” Morgana clarified.

Merlin shook his head. “No, risk the visions?”

“Oh,” she said, “because I’ve learnt to accept them. I don’t need the bracelet to protect me anymore, I only . . .” she trailed, “it reminds me of family.”

Merlin was acutely reminded that neither of them had any family left.

“Are you lonely Morgana?” He queried. Merlin wasn’t sure why he asked, why it mattered. Wasn’t he done with questions and answers?

Morgana took a moment to respond. “Sometimes, but Aithusa keeps me company.”

Merlin felt her eyes on him. In another moment she was going to ask him the same question. He didn’t want to answer. He didn’t want to look up and see her eyes gentle and commiserating, tempting him to forget the past all because he was pathetically desperate for company right now, even hers. Especially hers, a stray thought whispered. He didn’t ignore it, he took note. The powersharing might be affecting his feelings, the vision certainly had. He would be an idiot to ignore his vulnerability to a woman who had once had feelings for him and to whom he once felt some attraction and affection. This was no time for connection or rejection because either way, he’d be sure to regret his actions. Merlin pushed the bracelet away. “Thanks for the offer, but no thanks. You best keep it.”

“Is it really so hard to accept something from me?” Morgana fired causing Merlin to look at her.

The frustration flared in her eyes, then dimmed and her lips pressed together. “I’m sorry I didn’t want to argue.”

He knew he was being erratic and unreasonable but her apology riled him. She had some nerve getting upset at all and then dialling it back with her charade as if they were friends.

He scoffed at her. “I didn’t want a lot of things Morgana,” he said bitterly.

“Like poisoning me?” her restraint broke, “but you did it anyway.”

“Yes I did!” he stood and faced her. “I didn’t want to poison you, I didn’t want to watch my friends die one by one at your hand either and I didn’t want to wait centuries to discover it was all for naught all over a lie.”

“What lie?” she asked puzzled.

“Nevermind,” he continued to snap.

Her hands had folded over herself. “For someone who demands the truth from others, you do an awful lot of concealing it, Merlin. Whatever you wanted or didn’t want, you have choices now. Aithusa is dying, she sent me for your help and whatever your visions, your actions will shape it but I think you’d rather sit here in your reveries, painting pictures of Camelot, of decay, failure and self pity. You say you want to die – you stopped living long ago Merlin, you’re already dead.” She swivelled on the spot.

Merlin felt the air leave his lungs. She didn’t look back but walked as straight as she could from the kitchen. He could feel the flash of pain in her side through the bond they shared but outwardly she showed no sign.

He sat back down at the kitchen table and idly picked up the bracelet Morgana had left behind. She was right, he had died the day Arthur had and he didn’t know what to do about it. How was he to find a way to live again? How was he to know the path to take? Which choice was the right one? Choosing wrong would doom him, doom her too, maybe the earth.

He pushed the images from his mind, he never wanted to see them again. The bracelet spun beneath his fingers, visions were nothing but trouble. Finally, he slipped it on.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Morgana entered the bedroom that Merlin had offered her. Her only concern was keeping enough of the magic bond open for her to know if Merlin slept.

She deliberately chose to sit in a chair rather than on the bed. She was very weary it would be easy to fall asleep and miss her opportunity. She thought it might be the first time she’d ever been glad of the wound in her side. It was having little moments of asserting itself and likely would continue until Merlin settled himself. That alone should keep her somewhat alert.

She listened carefully for the sounds of Merlin. He hadn’t yet come up the stairs to return to his spare room. Morgana waited impatiently. She had no way of knowing if he would continue to refuse the bracelet or if he would indeed accept it. The magical bond was an unusual spell with many quirks. Each participant had access to the power wells of the other, each could, with an active intent, draw or give power.  During such active moments both could find the others spells and powers at their command but little nuances like a magical object or a healing bracelet would not register, perhaps because it was external.

The spell had never been in popular use, it had to be mutually begun and mutually ended and the magic used repaid until the score was even. The repayment usually happened in the breaking stage, where there was no more sharing of power and spells but it still came with the risk that if one suffered death so did the other. That had posed a lot more danger than Merlin knew. Morgana reinforced the dampening spell around her wound, his magic could not be permitted to find its way there. She wasn’t entirely sure what might happen but the consequences could well be lethal!

At the moment the link between them was passive, Merlin did not give power, and she did not take it. She was not sure how long it would take for her to return all the power she had used, weeks probably but they would be in less danger when they began the breaking stage. She was glad that simply learning spells or knowledge would not count against her.

With that thought Morgana tested their bond, letting her magic sense run along and discover Merlin’s conscious state. It was not active enough to alert him, nor to enter into knowledge sharing. He was still awake. She couldn’t enter his mind yet, at least not without him being aware of it.

If she’d thought him willing she could have taken his knowledge while he was awake and with his consent but his earlier dismissal of Aithusa proved that her only option – the safest option – was to do so secretly.

Morgana had learnt patience long, long ago. She was easily capable of it but it did not make the wait less anxious. Aithusa’s life depended on a positive outcome.

The night grew quieter. The moon was but a crescent barely giving light. She felt it had been hours and she wasn’t even sure she hadn’t herself fallen asleep at one point. She reached out gently through the bond to see if Merlin was any closer to sleep.

It was with great surprise she found that he slept! She had not heard him come upstairs but he must have done for he was sleeping deeply. This was the chance she had waited for. Carefully she searched Merlin’s knowledge and powers for all that could help her with Aithusa.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Morgana felt the sun shining on her face before she opened her heavy-lidded eyes. It irritated her, everything irritated her but she hadn’t quite been able to wake up enough to remember why. She sat up as it came to her.

She had failed Aithusa.

Merlin had failed Aithusa.

She didn’t understand it. Aithusa had been so certain that Merlin would save her but Morgana had been unable to find anything. Was it some innate ability to do with his dragonlord powers that Morgana was unable to possess or know? A surge of frustration propelled her out of bed and she snatched up her clothes to get dressed.

The wound was paining her very little. Was Merlin still asleep? She did not want to use the bond to check, she wanted little to do with Merlin right now. His refusal to help infuriated her more and more. Aithusa was going to die.

It was too unbelievable, too awful. Morgana was not going to let that happen. She was going to find a way, some way to make Merlin help Aithusa.

She descended the stairs heading for the kitchen. Breakfast didn’t have much appeal but a caffeinated drink did, her mind needed to be sharp. She was deep in thought but halted at the door as soon as the kitchen came in sight.

Merlin was asleep there, head on the table.

At once she understood how it was she had missed hearing him alight the stairs. He had never returned to his spare room but had fallen asleep here and remained so. The anger she had felt moments ago dissipated, although somewhat grudgingly.

Merlin looked so peaceful. So much like the kind youth she had once been in love with. That old affection seemed to plague her as she looked at him. He had worn himself weary in the last few days in the lead up to meeting and helping her. It was no wonder he’d been tired and then that vision had shaken him. Perhaps she had been too hasty in pushing him to go to Aithusa. There was every chance that a good night’s rest would find him more amenable.

Morgana had never been prone to optimism. No, he would not change his mind but she had to get back to Aithusa with or without him. Morgana felt her heartbeat gallop. The answer was so simple.  

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Merlin woke to sounds of tea making. He lifted his head groggily. “What time is it?”

“8 or so,” Morgana responded. “I didn’t mean to wake you. Would you like some?” She indicated the teapot.

“Sure,” Merlin nodded. His thoughts were just starting to put things together, he had fallen asleep on the table. His hands pressed against the wood as he saw the bracelet on his wrist. “This works a little too well,” he said sheepishly, swivelling it.

“Yes, I was very grateful for it on many occasions,” Morgana said simply.

Merlin wondered if the visions she’d had in the past were as horrifying as his own. What had she seen all those times? Whatever images they had not helped her. He pulled the bracelet from his wrist as if it would rid him of seer powers. “You should have it back.”

Morgana shook her head. “No, not yet. You keep it until we break the bond.”

She meant it kindly, he could feel that she did, but thoughts of the bond made him irritable. Breaking the bond still left him tied to Morgana for some time, unable to part her company until she returned the power he had given. She had warned him of pain, of the consequences but the pain wasn’t physical. It was the realisation that everything he’d waited for, his destiny past and present were . . . at best an illusion and at worst a cruel joke. Morgana’s seer power had shown him the truth. “I said I don’t want it.” He pushed the bracelet towards her roughly but with more force than he intended. The metallic band shot off the edge of the table and clattered to the floor and rolled, stilling at Morgana’s feet.

Morgan halted her tea making and picked it up.

Merlin would have understood if she’d been furious. The bracelet might have broken and he knew she regarded it sentimentally but she was all control this morning and only huffed, returning to the tea making. “Somebody got out on the wrong side of the . . . table,” she shot over her shoulder.

Merlin’s memories were stirred. He’d said that to Arthur once. He wouldn’t get the chance to say it again. Morgana had robbed him of that. He didn’t care if she wasn’t well enough, he didn’t care if she protested, he wasn’t going to take no for answer. “I want to start breaking the bond today.”

Morgana had finished making the tea and handed him a cup. Her eyes stared down at his. “I’ve decided I am going to Aithusa and you’ll have to come because of the bond. I am not ending it.”

Merlin felt his chin drop before he snapped it shut. “I’m not going with you Morgana and if you go without me we’ll both die.” He leant forward, staring just as determinedly as she was. “I’ve told you I don’t care if I die. I’ve told you I want to die.”

Merlin expected her to react in anger or shock or even tears and pleading, he did not expect the calm, serious tone she responded with.

“If we don’t go,” she said, “I’ll die anyway.” 

“Because she’s been helping you combat Kilgharah’s magic,” Merlin accused angrily. “That’s why you want to save her, to save yourself! “

“I couldn’t care less about myself,” Morgana denounced, “I would give my life for hers. I’d do anything for her.”

“Anything but the truth,” Merlin sneered. He knew it would silence her, he was certain she was never going to tell him whatever it was she hid.

There was a long pause as they stared each other down. Merlin felt hers was less anger and more disappointment, even rebuke. He didn’t much like that some part of him thought she had a point. She, risking her life for Aithusa while he, a dragonlord, did not seem to care.

At last, she spoke. “I am going Merlin, even if I don’t make it. I can’t – I won’t leave Aithusa to die alone. I can’t imagine any bond, any future, any vision that would stop me. I’ve told you that visions are warnings of your own actions. If you choose not to come then I hope the path you choose is worth it.”

“I did everything to change it last time. Everything.” Merlin maintained.

“No, Merlin. You didn’t.”

Morgana was so dismissive, so certain. What did she know about it?

Merlin’s anger at her burned and with a shock he realised so did the wound in Morgana’s side. He could feel it through the bond, burning, writhing, lashing with his anger. His eyes shot to hers, it couldn’t be a coincidence. He was even more certain as he watched her eyes dart away from his.

“What was that?” he demanded, everything else forgotten.

“N-nothing,” Morgana stammered.

“That was not, nothing,” Merlin insisted, “your wound . . . I affected it.”

Morgana was shaking her head vigorously. “No,” her eyes were full of alarm.

“Why? How?” Merlin took a step towards her and attempted to feel the magic that emanated from her.

“Stay away from me!” she cried. The use of a spell was probably instinctive, her eyes flashed.

Merlin wasn’t exactly thrown but he did lose his balance and sat heavily on the floor. Morgana had similarly tottered over. She had forgotten they shared powers, that it was impossible to attack the other, the spell had simply backfired with a minor pulse. She was lying on the ground.

Merlin dusted himself off. “Well, that was stupid,” he complained. He looked over expecting Morgana to have gotten to her feet but she lay still immobile.

He crawled over to her. She was still alive, he could feel that but she was very weak. She had not been drawing power from him and he had not consciously given her any. He did now and positioned himself on the floor next to her.

Seeing her so pale, feeling how weak she was, knowing the pain she was constantly in, he was reminded of her death in his visions. He had time now to contemplate it – he didn’t want to. Was she right? Was there some way to change the vision for all of them?

Knowing what she’d gone through these past centuries why hadn’t she ended it? Simply done away with the pain and the struggle. For Aithusa, she’d said. Morgana resembled death now, wouldn’t it be kinder to let her go? Especially since Aithusa was dying too . . . but was that what the visions had shown? Had Aithusa’s tears been caused by loneliness? Did he have the power to change her fate and even if he didn’t could he really let Aithusa die alone? Hadn’t the three of them been alone long enough? If his fate was to outlive the world then he must take all he could now.

Morgana’s eyes fluttered open.

He looked down at them. “I’ll go. I’ll go see Aithusa.”

She sat up and flung her arms around him. “Oh Merlin, thankyou, thankyou. You won’t regret it.”

Merlin hoped not. “Where is Aithusa, anyway?”

Morgana’s lips twitched into a smirk, “Scotland.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter Text

Aithusa was in Scotland! Merlin had in the past heard rumours of dragons or dragonlike serpents in Scotland but his inquiries had never indicated any tangible proof of Aithusa. He remembered he had been drawn north during his madness – as far north as the forest of Caledonia but he had neither the desire nor wits to call the white dragon. But, he concluded, there had been something, some familiar presence that called to him even in the midst of that terrible time. Had it been Aithusa? Her magic? Would she have come to him if he had called? He had not been ready, not ready to to confront her for what she had done or ready to understand.

Time had marched on and suddenly it was too late to call her, too dangerous to call forth a dragon from her hiding spot wherever that was. The danger had only increased through the eras. Merlin could not even imagine what might happen if a dragon were seen flying into Sommerset in the 20^th Century!

Still, it was amazing that he had not heard something more of a white dragon. How could a dragon’s presence go completely unnoticed anywhere at any time in history?

“Where in Scotland is she?” Merlin asked Morgana.

“Near Inverness,” she said, “along the Loch Ness.”

Merlin gaped, half surprised at Morgana’s easy admission but more so at the implications in it. “You don’t mean to say Aithusa is Nessie!”

Morgana’s forehead wrinkled into a slight frown. “Yes, although we did try our best to keep that story from growing. We always tried to keep a glamour spell in place when she was feeding but sometimes people with magic or our own lack of it caused a few to see Aithusa, even if in some distorted way.”

“You’ve been keeping her hidden through magic?” Merlin wondered aloud.

“Of course, someone had to.”

There was an open rebuke in Morgana’s tone. He was the dragonlord, it should have been his duty. He couldn’t deny perhaps he deserved some of that rebuke but dragons were free creatures and he could not change the past. “What about now? Is Aithusa safe?”

Morgana nodded but paced a little. “I left some spells in place. Aithusa is too ill to leave the cave, her magic is very weak. I stored extra food and we have rarely encountered people through the centuries, it’s a rugged spot.”

Merlin took all of this in, the worry in Morgana’s step, the knowledge of Aithusa’s location, the distance they would have to travel to heal her but his thoughts of Aithusa had not driven from his mind his other discovery, that Morgana’s wound reacted to his anger. He could see she was hoping he had forgotten in how quickly she was directing his attention to Aithusa.

Merlin debated about demanding answers from her. The strange flare of her wound at the increase of his anger was baffling and he felt understanding the connection was important. The magic that currently kept them bonded could not have caused it and should have protected her from any magic done by him. But it hadn’t been magic, just feelings of anger. How could his emotions have caused her wound to be in pain? He could not begin to guess but Morgana knew. He could see she did in the way she recoiled and she was not surprised by it. He knew he should find out the answer but Morgana never did seem to give things up willingly and he was not feeling up to another bout of argument. There would be plenty of time on the journey or after to discover what it meant. He would be patient, no harm could come of that.

“Alright,” he agreed, “I’ll travel to Loch Ness with you and as soon as we can but Morgana, is there anything more I should know?”

Morgana’s mouth pressed together as if to keep the truth from her lips as she shook her head.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Merlin watched the scenery whiz by outside of the train’s windows. Morgana had fallen into a light sleep beside him. He was glad she was not privy to whatever ill expression his face had taken on right now. He felt sick to his stomach with anxiety and with anticipation at seeing Aithusa again. The horrifying vision continued to plague his thoughts and had almost made him change his mind several times but his promise to help and his hope for answers from the dragon vied with it. He had so many questions but no assurance that Aithusa would have any of the answers nor that she might be well enough to give them. The closer they got the more Merlin feared that Aithusa may already be dead. It would explain so much of his vision. The tears of the dragon, all alone and dying and then of Morgana’s grief and anger that was turned on him. It would be his delay that cost her life. As to why he was immortal he would never know, nor it seemed would he escape it.

He shifted in his seat and tried to think of other things. He had carefully tidied and locked the house and left it under a spell of protection. From what or who he wasn’t sure but his home was a great treasure of magical knowledge beyond anything any sorcerer could wish or imagine. Prudence was warranted.

He and Morgana shared some worry that the hospital might still be looking for her but so far nothing had come of it. His thoughts abruptly found themselves at the dead end of trivial concerns. There was no wondering if the stove had been left accidentally on, no fear that he had forgotten to pack a pair of socks, nothing that could stop his mind from drifting back to the vision.

The dragon, Morgana, the cave with the gorse, the gravestone and himself alone. He shuddered.

Morgana stirred beside him and opened her eyes. “Are you alright?”

“Talk to me about something Morgana,” he said, “Anything.”

Her eyes raked over him with concern but she didn’t probe just rallied for a subject. “I wish we were travelling to the loch in the autumn. The changing colours are magnificent but the mountains are always beautiful whatever time of the year and summer brings a lot more life to the loch. So much,” Morgana breathed in with a smile, “magic in it. You know what I mean?”

Merlin nodded, he did. There were places around the world where magic still sang even if there were no longer creatures of magic deeply tied to it, unicorns, spells performed as acts of great good, these things left their mark. He smiled momentarily but the gloom he felt could not be deterred by small talk.  

“Tell me about visions Morgana,” he urged suddenly. “How do you know which path to take, what to do?”

Morgana took a moment to think. “I guess the best way to explain it is that you must look inside yourself. The best way to learn how to deal with them is to think back to visions you had before, what were they telling you? What did you do and what should you have done? As a seer sometimes just telling others of my vision was enough for events to change, the visions were meant for them, other times I should have seen the future as a warning of my own actions and my own behaviour. I guess as the recipient it is important to know visions are not about others actions, they’re about yours.” Morgana gave a little shrug, “I’m sorry, that’s probably not very helpful.”

Merlin pasted a reassuring smile on his face he didn’t feel. “No, it’s helpful.” The truth was anything was helpful at this point.

Morgana looked relieved by his expression. For an odd moment Merlin felt as he had many times in Camelot. Merlin couldn’t name it except to say that it was a combination of satisfaction in comforting others whilst his inner turmoil lay hidden. He had almost forgotten what it was like. He supposed he had not had the opportunity to protect anyone in that manner for some time.

He turned over what Morgana had said. It wasn’t exactly a new idea to relive visions of the past in order to find out where he’d gone wrong but perhaps in all his what ifs he had missed something critical. He knew he had been warned many times of Mordred and at the critical moment he’d focused on Morgana, allowing his feelings of anger to dictate his actions and causing him to fail but that didn’t help him with this vision. Perhaps there were other visions that held the answer.

He remembered the very first vision he’d had. The crystal had shown him Kilgharrah setting the kingdom on fire and himself filled with grief over his father’s death. Could he have prevented that? Merlin had been wracked with enough guilt without taking on more but it could not be helped. He had to think about these things. Many in Camelot had also died as a result of him freeing the dragon. He’d told himself he’d had no choice, he’d done so in order to save Camelot from the sleeping spell and that in itself had come at the cost of making Morgana his enemy. Merlin frowned. There was a lot more connected to those events than he had considered before.

He still could not see how it helped his current situation.

“Do you want to talk about it at all?” Morgana offered.

Merlin shook his head without even considering it. He’d been used to shouldering things on his own. Sharing problems and asking for help was not something that came easy to him. He’d always been better at giving help than taking it.

But now as Morgana gracefully turned back to the scenery he wondered how he could possibly state that he’d seen her death, let alone the rest. How would she take the news? Would she still stand by her declaration that Aithusa was worth it? Or would she hesitate, as he had, lest it set things in motion?  Merlin was aware that there was another reason to avoid telling her. He had tried to kill her directly twice and it would be natural for Morgana to feel furious with him for taking yet another risk with her life. For choosing something that may already lead to her death.

He closed his eyes hoping to find some rest from his busy thoughts, willing the hours to speed by.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

At last, the train arrived at Inverness and Merlin followed Morgana as they transferred to a bus. He was surprised to discover that Morgana was known to the driver.

“I travel occasionally into Inverness for supplies,” she explained as they found a seat. “I often ask to be let out at an unauthorised stop. I let the bus drivers believe I am an amateur photographer who likes to get wild shots and I plant a memory of my return to prevent concern. . . It used to be coach drivers. I miss horses.” She mused.

Merlin was amazed by the genuine warmth and congeniality that Morgana exuded with the driver, with the sentiment about the trip. She was at home here he realised. He surprised himself by feeling pleased for her. In spite of all that he had lost, all that had happened between them he was glad that Morgana should at last find somewhere that she belonged. He’d wanted that acceptance all his life, had come close but never really attained it. If she could find it perhaps there was a chance for him. If he got through the next few days unscathed from his vision.

It was a short bus ride and they were both let out on the side of the road in the unscheduled place of which Morgana had spoken.

“They’re not really supposed to,” Morgana confided, “and would never admit to having done so if asked. . . I may have used a little magical persuasion on both accounts.”

Merlin worried how often she used her magic on others. “Magic isn’t something to be used lightly, Morgana. It’s for great deeds.”

She had been busying herself with a bag as the bus pulled out of sight in some sort of pretence at a delay but at his words she halted her movement and raised both delicate brows at Merlin. Her expression was between amused and exasperated. “Are you seriously lecturing me about magic use after all these centuries?”

“Sorry,” Merlin put his hand behind his head and scratched at his head. “I guess all those lessons with Gaius have stayed with me.” He gave a thin smile feeling foolish.

“I seem to recall seeing your washing up doing itself before we left,” Morgana added wryly, “but still you think Gaius was right?”

Morgana surprised him with her question. Merlin thought about it. It was true he used more magic in his daily life than Gaius would have approved of but he was right. “Yes, mostly. I think he was correct. Just because you can do something with magic doesn’t mean you should.”

“Morgause taught me exactly the opposite,” Morgana said calmly.

“Well, she would,” Merlin grunted.

Morgana’s mouth twitched downward. “She wasn’t the monster you think.”

Merlin didn’t respond. He didn’t know Morgause well but he’d seen her actions, seen how she’d corrupted Morgana, seen the deaths she’d wrought through Cendred and his army. He couldn’t see how he could be wrong about her.

“It’s water under the bridge now,” Morgana shrugged but her tone was sad. She checked the road to see the bus was no longer in view, nor other passing vehicles and began to tread a path away from the loch through the wilderness. Merlin followed.

They hadn’t gone far into it when Merlin began to feel light-headed. It took him a few moments to understand there was an enchantment at work. The impenetrable forests surrounding the Dollares plains and the Dark Tower had felt similar. The magic there had been Mab’s but not this enchantment, this was Morgana’s, with a hint of dragon, Merlin determined.

Morgana was using her magic sense to navigate it and Merlin began to do likewise even though he need do no more than follow her. He enjoyed the use of his magical senses, perceiving paths of lightness woven within the confusion and darkness. He’d missed this sort of challenge, even the thrill of danger although he wasn’t sure that he should admit the latter. He even found the brush of Morgana’s enchantment strangely comforting and enjoyable. It was almost enough to subdue the dread of the destiny ahead of him.

The woodland was thick and some parts were rugged with steep mossy and slippery rocks to scramble over, shaded by the canopy above. They travelled up and then down again seemingly further than they had gone up. Morgana said little, offering only cautions and directions. Through the bond he began to feel her side aching, her fatigue gnawing at her but outwardly she plunged on.

Merlin was not so keen to hurtle towards his destiny, it may not be too late to turn back and yet he had followed her, uncertain how to stop or if he should. Now with her breathing hard, he saw a chance for a reprieve, a moment to really decide if this is what he should do.  

“Let’s rest a moment,” Merlin called.

“It’s not much further,” she insisted, her words were broken with laboured breaths.

“You need to rest, I can hear and feel it,” Merlin said catching her up and pulling at her elbow until she was forced to look at him.

“I’ll rest at the cave,” Morgana said, “please Merlin, we’re so close.”
 
Merlin was conscious of the unguarded plea shimmering in her eyes. He was certain a few days ago that he could have resisted such a look with ease but now his heart gave a silent squeeze. She needn’t ask his permission, she could push ahead without him and he would likely follow, yet she seemed to be seeking his approval. Her lashes fluttered and her eyes ducked and lifted to him uncertainly. Merlin found it impossible to deny her.

“Alright,” Merlin agreed, “but at least let me send you some magic for that wound.”

He had barely begun to gather it to himself and lift his hand when she recoiled, holding her hands up to ward him off.

“No Merlin, don’t!” She cried. She had the same look of alarm and horror on her face as she had when he’d attempted to understand the wound when it reacted to his anger. “You could kill us both.”

His hand fell back to his side. “Why? What’s going on? We’ve shared power before.”

“I . . . I was prepared the first time,” she stammered still warding him off.

“What does that mean?” Merlin asked.

Morgana didn’t give a response but she was looking for one in that mind of hers and when she found it, it would be a lie.

Merlin had not pushed for an answer last time she recoiled and now he regretted it. Something lay ahead of him, some choice, some terrible act or event that would set him upon the path of his vision. Aithusa was involved somehow and the closer he got to her the more likely his destiny would unfurl. If he had any chance to change destiny, any way to choose a path other than the one his vision had shown then perhaps whatever was going on with Morgana would be important knowledge. He had to know. He couldn’t afford to be deterred.

Merlin hardened himself, armouring his heart against further weakness. His stance shifted as he drew himself taller and rooted himself to the spot. “I’m not going another step Morgana until you answer and I want the truth. I’ll know if you’re lying, you know I will.” There was a dark timbre to his voice, a steely tone that brokered no argument. “If you choose to lie I will send my power to examine the wound and discover for myself the reason, one way or another.”

The fear on Morgana’s expression leapt then faded as she closed her eyes in resignation. She leant heavily against a tree as she spoke. “The first time I protected the wound from you and from your power mixing with mine but that spell has dissipated. I can’t initiate it again while we’re joined, it wouldn’t work. If you send your magic to me now it will only fuel the wound. It hungers for more, to overpower me, eating away at my resolve. Because of the bond it will likely be lethal to the both of us!”

Merlin wrinkled his brow. “How can my magic fuel the wound? How could it do anything harmful?”

“Have you really done nothing to understand the past Merlin?” Morgana snapped, her voice brittle.

“Morgana,” he prompted back irritatedly.

Morgana took a deep breath and folded her hands protectively against herself and looked away from him, he realised whatever she was about to say was difficult for her.  “What do you think happens Merlin when a powerful sorcerer full of resentment and revenge plunges a sword forged in a dragon’s breath into another sorcerer?”

Her question was shocking. Merlin had no answer and he was starting to feel sick at the possible answers. Was he guilty of more than just physically plunging a magical sword into Morgana? Had he also used his own magic? He tried to determine why it was that seemed so much worse. He’d sensed something in the wound that first day, something horrifying and familiar. His own magic – dark magic. “But Excalibur,” he stammered, “forged by a dragon . . .” he trailed, it was enough to do this, it must have caused this – not him.

No, she had to be wrong, she was making this up to cover for whatever the real truth was, the real reason she didn’t want his magic. She was trying to make him feel guilt so that he would stop wanting to know. “You’re lying!” He accused.

“I’m not.” Morgana locked her gaze with his. She wasn’t but there was something, something she was hiding.

Her deceit at a time like this was maddening. “Then what else Morgana? You’re keeping something from me,” he gritted.

Her lips trembled, tears pooled in her eyes; her hand shakily went to her throat.

“What else?” He demanded icily.

Morgana wasn’t answering. He realised she was prepared to die with her secrets if needed. Which made no sense. She was supposed to be protecting herself what reason could she have at this point to lie?

“Aithusa,” he uttered. It occurred to him that Morgana had said all along she was prepared to die for her. There was no else. “You’re protecting Aithusa.”

She was suddenly full of distress, she moved toward him and took his hands. “Merlin please, please don’t let her die. Not yet, let Arthur wait a little longer, not forever, just a little while more.” She fell to her knees and covered her face. “Just this once choose Aithusa.”

Merlin looked down at her completely confused. Was she hysterical? What did healing Aithusa have to do with Arthur and his return? “Whatever are you talking about?”

What little colour she had seemed to drain away. She pressed her lips together and said nothing. She seemed to think she’d said too much, perhaps she had but Merlin didn’t seem to grasp exactly what.

He wanted to shake her but he knew it would be pointless. She was waiting for him to put the pieces together and he also saw that she was half hoping he wouldn’t.

She had told him that his magic had joined with Excalibur’s, that the two worked against her but how could she have survived not just a dragon’s magic but his own? She simply couldn’t, it wasn’t possible but she had because here she was, crumpled on the ground still lying to him, still keeping secrets and never willing to give them up.

He knew it was dangerous but if she would not give answers what choice did have. He had to have a magical understanding of her wound. With care he projected his magic towards her and brushed his magic ever so lightly across her wound, cautious of containing his power and deftly avoiding the insatiable, writhing tendrils of the dark magic that tried to siphon more power out of him. He braced himself for the memory of Arthur’s wound that Morgana’s would surely provoke with its fiery mineral tang of a dragon’s magic but there was nothing. Merlin gasped, no dragon magic at all.

Morgana merely winced.

Kilgharrah’s magic was gone. Excalibur’s magic was gone. There was nothing left but his own. He reeled. Some of what happened in the hospital with Morgana and himself began to make sense. What he did not understand was how Morgana could have removed dragon magic. Aithusa perhaps? Why then was Morgana so fearful for Aithusa? Why was she so worried that he would not heal the dragon because of Arthur? Arthur had been wounded by Aithusa, surely if she could heal him that would be reason enough to keep Aithusa alive. But Kilgharrah had not offered to heal Arthur. Kilgharrah had told Merlin that he could not help that only the Sidhe at Avalon could. “You went to the Sidhe,” he concluded.

All the strength seemed to leave Morgana at once and she nodded defeatedly. “Morgana la Faye,” she confirmed and a disturbed look crossed her eyes.

The old stories, Morgana had mentioned that in the cafe, given hint to her survival. She had not been so coy then but none of that explained how it tied into Aithusa. Aithusa would know. Like a blast from a dragon’s breath it hit him. He was a dragonlord, he could command Aithusa to tell him all bypass Morgana and her games altogether. Only what if that action with Aithusa was what lead to his vision?

Morgana wiped the tears from her eyes. She was still frightened, frightened for Aithusa it seemed and Merlin realised that it was high time he used that weakness.

“You went to the Sidhe and then what Morgana?” He asked. “If you don’t tell me I will command Aithusa to tell me.”

“Alright,” Morgana relented, “alright.” She sighed and smoothed her clothes as she got to her feet. “I spent a few days waiting for Kilgharrah to die but the Sidhe could not do anything about your magic and so I left. What exactly did you want to know about?”

Merlin frowned, felt his eyes enlarge and his heart beat faster and faster as he went over her words. Kilgharrah had died within days of her wound. In deed the old dragon had been weary and weak when Merlin had sought him for Arthur’s sake. At last Merlin was able to voice his conclusion. “Excalibur’s magic died with Kilgharrah.”

It came out in a whisper but such was its affect on Morgana that he may as well have shouted it. She had assumed he’d already concluded it. She had lost.

Merlin now sought to connect this knowledge to Arthur. Arthur’s wound had been by dragon sword, Aithusa’s magic. Did this mean all he had to do back then to save Arthur was kill Aithusa? Could he have? Would he have? Merlin left those questions for another time. It was too late for Arthur now . . . wasn’t it?

Merlin moaned and stumbled as the implications hit. Arthur’s return! Was his mortal wound preventing him from returning while Aithusa lived? The ramifications of this hit him hard. He was a dragonlord, he did have a duty to them but Arthur was his destiny. Had to be.

“I have failed Aithusa,” Morgana wept. “You won’t heal her now will you?”

Merlin didn’t answer. Could he, last of the dragonlords, let Aithusa die? Or would he, assuming he could, heal her and fulfil his duty as dragonlord but delay Arthur’s return – if he was to return at all that was.

Kilgharrah had said it would happen in Albion’s time of greatest need and it seemed to Merlin that time had long since passed but if it were to come in the future and Aithusa still lived then Merlin would have failed Arthur a second time. Could that be the meaning of the vision? Was it that Merlin had saved Aithusa and doomed the world? Prevented Arthur’s return. If he let Aithusa die now it wouldn’t be as if he was killing her, just allowing nature to take its course. Morgana would not forgive him. Her tears and her death had been in the vision too. 

She watched him now, unaware of his thoughts and waiting for answer.

“I don’t even know if I can save her,” Merlin stalled.

“But will you if you can?” She insisted.

Morgana wanted clarity but he could not give her what he didn’t have. “I don’t know.”

“Because of Arthur,” she said resentfully.

“It’s more than that,” Merlin retorted, “it always was.”

Morgana suddenly straightened and glared at him. “No it wasn’t. It was always about Arthur. You think I don’t know now about the Dsir, how you were willing to let Mordred die? You, think I haven’t read the stories of old? The stories linked to our time? You lied and killed for Arthur.”

She was so vehement it halted Merlin’s reply. Arthur’s life was intrinsically tied with Camelot and Albion everything he’d done had been with that aim in mind. Wasn’t it? “It was my destiny to protect him.” Merlin defended.

“And your responsibility to everyone and everything else? Your duties as a dragonlord? Your friendships? Your sense of what is right?”

His jaw set. “I hardly think you can lecture me about right and wrong Morgana.”

“I can because I know about bitterness Merlin and about justifying the means for the sake of the end. Forgetting who you are for the sake of a cause. It seems to me there was a lot more of it going around than I knew at the time.”

Merlin struggled against her words, she was manipulating him, trying to get him to heal Aithusa and forget that it might condemn him to a life of endless, meaningless immortality and if that wasn’t horrifying enough, she wanted him to believe that Arthur’s return wasn’t important.

“Morgana,” he tried to reason, “I just do not know. The vision I saw, it didn’t show me Aithusa’s death, just her tears and it showed me nothing of Arthur’s return. I can’t make promises.”

“Aithusa’s tears?” Morgana was visibly shocked, her entire demeanour had turned inward. She was thinking very hard.

“Yes, why?”

Morgana shook her head and shrugged, coming back to the moment promptly. “She’s never cried, is all.”

Morgana’s evasiveness never seemed to cease but Merlin didn’t think he could take any more revelations however small.  

Morgana hurried on. “Very well Merlin. I won’t ask for promises, I know you will do whatever it is you want to. I can’t change that. So I’m going to her now.”

She sounded utterly broken, her skin had regained none of its colour and through their bond, he sensed that her energy levels hadn’t improved but the defiant tilt of her chin and the rigid way she held herself made it clear she was no longer seeking his approval.

Her green eyes fixed on his determinedly.  “Whatever you decide I hope you won’t be a coward and let her linger on. If you won’t heal her at least have the decency to make her death quick and painless.” Her tone was sharp and imperious but her expression was changing to one of worry. “Only,” she said softly, “please Merlin, don’t frighten her.”

She was giving him that look again, the intimate plea that made him want to change his mind, that made him feel wretched if he didn’t but there was so much at stake and killing Aithusa had not been in his thoughts at all. “Morgana I’m not saying I won’t help her. I don’t even know if I can help, but, I do want to speak to Aithusa. I want to get answers about many things if Aithusa can give them and is willing and if it comes to,” he paused, “being kind, I won’t . . .” he trailed and hesitated, knowing it might be unwise to give even this promise, “I won’t do anything without telling you first.”

Morgana nodded gravely in acknowledgement. He could see the tears welling in her eyes as she turned away from him, they were not of thanks but the beginnings of grief.
 

Her sorrow didn’t surprise him but her lack of anger did. He’d expected threats of retaliation or shouts and recriminations. If they had not been bonded he would have expected spells. Morgana had changed. It was strange to believe but somehow over the centuries she’d recovered some of that kind, compassionate person she’d once been, whilst still incorporating something of the priestess patience and resolve. Merlin had failed to realise that some of Morgana’s traits as a priestess could be admirable when combined with a good heart, good intentions and the right situation. Merlin had been so focused on the past that any hint of antagonism or disagreement from her had been met by his own. Perhaps she truly no longer believed that the ends justified the means.

Morgana did not wait for further confirmation but set off, her pace was determined but sedate. Merlin followed a little distance behind sensing that she needed space. He required it too. His head was swimming with so many thoughts not the least of them the possibility that Arthur would return but at the cost of Aithusa.

Trees and gorse continued to line their path, a rather modest bolder appeared but beneath it the ground inclined and fell away. Morgana had said it was close and there it was, the cave.

Merlin recognised it. It was identical to what he had seen in his vision. The same gorse bush grew beside it, the same shape, the same colours lit by the sunshine and the same shadows played on the ground about him as if everything he had seen in the vision had happened mere moments from now or at the same time of day and season.

Merlin drew back. “Morgana,” he protested.

“What?” She was not to be stopped. Morgana was so focused on getting to Aithusa.

He had told so little of the vision and nothing of the grave bearing her name. Nothing would deter Morgana at this point.

He swallowed hard. “It’s nothing,” he said at last.

Morgana entered the cave.

Merlin steadied himself and followed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter Text

“Aithusa!” Morgana called anxiously as she ran ahead.

“I am here Morgana,” The dragon’s voice echoed in Merlin’s mind, it was the same telepathic method Kilgharrah and the druids had used long ago.

Merlin’s mouth went dry and his muscles tensed. Aithusa still lived which meant his choices remained. There would be no easy way out and a wrong step might result in his vision coming to pass.

He stepped into the cave and saw Morgana ahead of him had used magic to illuminate her path. He uttered a spell of his own and a flame danced in his hand. As his eyes adjusted, he could see the walls were dry but the air suggested there was moisture somewhere beyond.

A little further and the path they were on turned and opened into a larger space.

There was a firepit laid with wood, a chair, some pillows and a rug but the rest of the expansive space was clear or would have been if not for the large, white dragon that occupied it.

Aithusa.

She lay stretched upon the cave floor, lifting her head slightly at their coming. She was not quite the size Merlin expected. She was several metres smaller than Kilgharrah had been and there was still a misshapen bend along her back. Her breathing was shallow and audible.

Morgana ran to the creature and threw her arms around the dragon’s neck. She laid her head against Aithusa as she openly wept. “I’ve brought him, Aithusa. Merlin has come. All will be well now. . . soon.” She stroked the dragon comfortingly. “All will be well.” Morgana thought it as much as she spoke it aloud but Merlin saw that she wept as if her world were ending.

He watched the scene in astonishment and awkwardness. Morgana’s tenderness was yet another sign that he’d been right about the change in her. Yet he had to confront the fact that Morgana had always held affection for Aithusa, something of her kindness had always remained. Morgana had repressed it, he had dismissed it but it was still there. However, she was lying to Aithusa, promising the dragon that all would be well when the power was not in her hands.

It wasn’t certain it was in his hands either but seeing Aithusa in the flesh definitely made any choice he faced regarding her life or death far more impacting. He had forgotten – how he didn’t know – how magnificent dragons were to behold. How their presence radiated power and how enthralling their eyes were.

Aithusa’s blue eyes lifted to him at that moment. “Merlin, great warlock, last of the dragonlords” She spoke gravely into his mind and she bowed her head to him. “I’m glad you have come.”

For a moment Merlin faltered before he bowed in return. “It’s good to see you Aithusa.”

Aithusa’s gaze did not waiver and she continued to speak only from mind to mind. “I am surprised to hear you say so but pleased.”

Merlin was quick to respond. “I never harboured ill will toward you Aithusa, not truly, but I do have trouble understanding why everything happened.”

The dragon nodded, though her head did not lift much. “I imagine you do. I would like to explain if you are willing to listen.”

“I am,” Merlin said.

“Then come sit,” Aithusa indicated the chair and she lit the fire with a puff of breath that did not appear to tax her.

Morgana had already slid to Aithusa’s feet by this point, leaning her head against the dragon, her eyes half closed. She looked drained.

“Your wound still pains you, Morgana,” Aithusa said sadly.

“Don’t worry about that now,” Morgana said hurriedly and some look passed between the two that Merlin did not understand.

“I see,” Aithusa responded.

Merlin noted the dragon sounded displeased.

“Well,” the dragon continued, “you should rest in your chambers, Morgana. Merlin and I have much to talk about.”

Morgana’s eyes opened wide and he shook her head. “I can rest here. I don’t wish to leave you.”

“It will be but for a small time,” Aithusa placated. “You need your rest for the days ahead.”

Merlin wondered what Aithusa meant by her statement and was sure the dragon’s tone had changed, sounding eldritch and ominous.

Morgana showed no reaction to the tone but neither did she appear ready to comply.

The dragon nuzzled her. “Merlin will watch over me, until my time and much needs to be said. Revisited,” Aithusa said meaningfully. “I thought you would prefer not to be present.”

Morgana dropped her head in resignation. “Alright, but you’ll call me if you need me?”

“I will,” Aithusa said.

“Merlin,” Morgana switched her gaze to him and gave Merlin an imploring stare, “you’ll keep your word?”

“I promise.” He said it simply. Merlin was mindful of the vision, of how quickly he might need to make choices and he did not want to promise more than he could give but he had already told her that he would let her know before he did anything.

Morgana lifted herself from the ground. “I will return with food in a little while.” She gave one last look at them before she continued further into the cave. Merlin did not watch her go but turned his attention back to Aithusa. He saw that her large dragon eyes rested upon Morgana’s retreating form pityingly.

Aithusa sighed sadly. “She will find the path ahead difficult.” It will not be easy for her to be betrayed once more. She will take my death particularly hard.”

“Your death?” Merlin’s throat constricted. Did Aithusa know what he’d been considering? Did she expect him to hasten her death? Had she sent Morgana to fetch him here knowing this would be the outcome? And had she now sent Morgana away to spare her? Was the time upon him?

Aithusa shifted her large body and settled her stare fully upon Merlin. “No doubt Morgana has told you what I said to her, that you could save me.”

Merlin nodded slowly, “because I’m a dragonlord.”

“The last of your kind,” Aithusa confirmed, “as am I.”

The silence was heavy. Merlin tensed, was she going to ask him to save her after all? He had not yet tried to discover her illness, to see if he even could heal her but if he could how could he say no? Could he really let a wondrous creature like a dragon die if it was in his power to save her? But Arthur, the vision, could he ignore that?

Merlin stared into the eyes of the dragon, they were so full of life and depth. He shifted in his chair uneasily. He had not had the luxury in his long lifetime of shying away from difficult decisions. He knew it was better to plunge ahead rather than hesitate, delaying was an agony of its own. He decided to be as honest as he could, Aithusa deserved it. “I don’t know if I can prevent your death,” Merlin began –.”  

“Why should my death bother you, great warlock?” Aithusa broke in.

Merlin’s mouth felt his heart quicken, startled by the dragon’s directness. He didn’t know what to say. She was the last of her kind, that should be reason enough however it didn’t seem to be an answer worthy of such a moment. Neither did it fully express how he felt. “Magic,” he said, at last, finally pulling his thoughts and feelings together. “It has all but disappeared in this world. As far as I know, you, Morgana and I are all that is left of it.”

“Have you never wondered why Merlin?”

“Of course,” Merlin answered, “but I do not know why it has disappeared. Do you?”


“I do not,” Aithusa said, “but I have my suspicions. I believe magic has sustained you at the cost of all else in the world.”

Merlin felt his brows raise. “Are you saying you believe that magic has disappeared from the world in order to keep me alive?”

“I am.” The white dragon confirmed. “Magic can not disappear Merlin unless life does. It’s just that you have required most of its focus.”

“Me? Why?” Merlin leaned forward toward Aithusa. Merlin had never considered before that his magic had increased as creatures of magic had decreased.

“Destiny,” Aithusa intoned gravely.

Merlin frowned and sat back against the chair.

“You seem displeased by my answer,” Aithusa pointed out and it seemed to Merlin as if she was slightly amused.

Merlin folded his arms. “In my experience destiny tends to be a double-edged sword and overrated.”

“I see,” Aithusa said, “and what do you think about prophecy?”

“That,” Merlin levelled, “it is nothing but trouble.”

The dragon rolled her shoulders. “I can understand your feeling for it was prophecy that has caused much misunderstanding. It is prophecy that has led so many astray and yet perhaps it has a way of working itself out.”

Merlin was doubtful. “What do you mean?”

“It has shaped my life and may yet still,” Aithusa answered promptly. “You said earlier you wanted to understand, allow me then to speak of the past before we speak of the future and choices.”

Merlin nodded, he was eager for all he could learn and to delay any choice he might make. It seemed to him that Aithusa had become as wise as Kilgharrah – if not quite so cryptic and a dragon’s presence was no thing to underestimate or take for granted. He stridently ignored the part of him that warned he might be making things difficult for himself . . . impossible even.

“As I said,” Aithusa continued, “prophecy shaped my life. All dragons are born with the knowledge of their ancestors. So it was, Merlin, from the moment that you called me forth from my egg that I knew that I had a great destiny to live up to. It had been prophesied that I would be called upon to bring about a great kingdom of peace and fairness, that was why my egg was chosen to be hidden by Ashkanar.”

Merlin remembered the tomb and the traps laid. He had thought that such protection was due the last dragon egg but now it had extra pertinence.

Aithusa resumed her tale. “You may think destiny a terrible burden for one so young but such a thing does not concern dragons as it does humans. We each have a destiny, great or small and so I was content at first to wait, to grow, to fly, to be in the world and see it but as I travelled, I heard things. Terrible things. I learnt of Uther’s betrayal and the destruction of the dragons and of the dragonlords.

I was deeply grieved and I sought Kilgharrah at once, demanding of him why he had not exacted justice for our kind. But he did not answer, instead, he told me that the past could not be changed, the future was Albion. Those words seemed to hold importance to him but they meant little to me, my genetic memory had no mention of Albion only a kingdom of freedom to come and such a prophecy was vague. It seemed that having lain dormant within my egg hundreds more years of knowledge and prophecy had passed than I yet realised.

I tried to argue, to insist that we bring Uther to justice. I even offered to team up but Kilgharrah grew angry. He insisted that Albion was what we must wait for, that you, Merlin, had begun it and I must be patient to see what part we might play in it. He reminded me I was not yet grown, not yet able to speak the language of man. My time had not yet come.

At last, I agreed to leave Uther to you, the sole dragonlord. Yet I could not entirely reconcile myself to inaction and since the prophecy I held spoke of a seer whom I must protect I determined I would seek them out rather than waiting for our paths to cross.

I was silent about this fearing that Kilgharrah would dissuade me again. So young was I, so eager for the world and so keen to set things right in some way. I left immediately to search for the seer. I knew that I would recognise them on sight, though I did not know what he or she looked like. in a moment, and find her I did. Morgana Pendragon, great seer, last priestess, wounded, alone and in need of protection. I was overjoyed, it seemed prophecy had been right, she did need me! But far from protecting her, I led her to harm.” Aithusa paused a long moment. “It was I who caused Morgana to be at the mercy of Sarrum. She could have saved herself but for me.”

Merlin grimaced. “I did hear of that. I’m sorry it happened to you.”

“It is good to hear you say that Merlin, to hear it from your own heart. I confess at our capture I remained hopeful you would hear of our plight. Of my plight. I was sure word of a dragon chained in a well would reach you, a dragonlord but as the time passed I lost hope.”

Merlin felt compelled to clear his name. “I didn’t know, Aithusa, I swear, not until much later. If I had known-”

“Fear not Merlin,” Aithusa said kindly, “I have since come to understand that such word was kept from you.”

“Kept from me?” Merlin puzzled. That couldn’t be true. Who would have kept such a thing from him and why?

“We will get to that,” Aithusa said, “patience great warlock, I have much to say and not much time.”

Merlin just then noticed that the dragon was breathing uncomfortably but since she spoke mind to mind her speech remained unhampered.

“We saw nothing but darkness for months on end. I had not yet grown enough to speak aloud in your language but I understood Morgana and I heard the words of Sarrum. Sarrum spoke of Camelot, he loved to taunt Morgana with news of Arthur’s doings, of the demise of sorcery. He talked about how he hunted those with magic, how he tortured and murdered them. How Arthur would do likewise. He told her that the kingdoms were uniting under Arthur and soon there would be nowhere to hide for any sorcerer. Sarrum took terrible pleasure in reminding her that she would be left until last.

Silently I begged Morgana to save herself but she did not. If she did not do as they asked, it was I they tortured. They assured her that if she used magic or tried to escape, I would pay the price. Morgana bore it, obeyed commands and only the occasional flare of anger in her eyes revealed to me that she still retained some will of her own.”

Merlin was horrified but also amazed by Morgana.

Aithusa’s tone was full of pity as she went on. “When Morgana cried for mercy for me, for herself, he sneered that her own brother had not thought her worthy of pity, so why should he? So often he told her how undeserving a creature she was, how not a soul had ever or could ever care for her. The things he said chilled me. I tried to comfort her best I could but grown deformed as I had, crammed in the well, I could not voice them.”

Merlin said nothing but he shuddered. He had not known such things had happened. He felt his anger bubbling up and was glad to know that Sarrum was long dead.

Aithusa continued. “Then one day, wondrously Morgana and I found we could hear each other’s thoughts while we were in contact. Such joy we had and such pain as we communicated. Morgana was already crazed by the time I reached her mind; how could she not be? One year of darkness, nothing but her own thoughts and the words of Sarrum. Her mind rippled and folded in on itself. Fear and grief had become hate and with shock, I saw it was your face and Arthurs that she held in her memory with the most vehemence.

I was confused by this. I hid from Morgana my knowledge of you, certain that you, a dragonlord, had been deceived by this Arthur. For what kind of man leaves his own sister to the Sarrum?”

“Arthur wouldn’t do that!” Merlin broke off as the dragon stared pityingly at him.

Merlin shook his head. “No, Arthur couldn’t have known.”

“We must not be too harsh on the young Pendragon King,” Aithusa said. “I do not think he was aware of the man’s cruelty to such an extent as it was but still yes Merlin, Arthur knew.”

Merlin shook his head. “I would have known. He would have told me.” Aithusa must be wrong or lying. Arthur couldn’t have possibly kept it from him.

“Would he?” Aithusa asked, “And what would you have urged him to do had you known?”

“I would have urged him to . . .” Merlin didn’t know. Back then he certainly would not have wanted to leave Aithusa in a well. Not as a dragonlord and not as the young, kind-hearted man who cared about innocent creatures. But would he have been willing to risk freeing Morgana for Aithusa? Merlin bit his lip, he might have but there was more to it than just the righteousness of freeing Aithusa. Merlin realised that he would also not have let Arthur leave his sister in such a place, he would not have allowed Arthur to live with doing such a thing and yet – and YET Arthur had. Merlin swallowed hard.

“He knew what you would urge him to do Merlin. Alas for all of us you never got the chance.”

Merlin was speechless to think Arthur had kept something like this from him. Arthur hadn’t known he was a dragonlord or known of his past conflict with Morgana either but Arthur had known Merlin well enough to guess that he would not have approved of leaving Morgana and Aithusa in a well. 

“I see I have disturbed you great warlock. Surely your faith in the great Arthur Pendragon is not shaken to learn that he did not always live to his full potential?”

Merlin shook his head again defiantly. “Arthur was a great king.”

“Sometimes Merlin,” Aithusa agreed, “but do you not allow yourself to think that he had not quite grown into the role? That perhaps he was only just beginning?”

Merlin frowned, he wanted to shout at Aithusa and deny it but Arthur’s time had been cut short too soon and a part of him agreed. Merlin frowned harder.

“Within the well,” Aithusa continued her story once more, “I found that Morgana’s thoughts were fixated. She was convinced the only path for her, for sorcerers everywhere was for her to claim the crown of Camelot. Then and only then would she would be safe. Magic would be restored, none would dare come against Camelot and her kind and mine would no longer be hunted. I believed it. Why shouldn’t I? Morgana was a seer from a prophecy of old, a high priestess and she had no knowledge of Albion or of any great future hope other than what might be wrought by her own hands. There was no prophecy known to her or me that gave us options. With our new found ability to communicate we planned our escape.

Escape we did and we sought allies and knowledge and to regain our health. My body never did grow straight and so I had no voice and Morgana remained half-mad from the years of evil torment. Finally, we came to Ismere where next I saw you.

Your actions puzzled me exceedingly, your confusion over my misshapen body and your obvious concern led me to believe that you had not learnt of our plight. Yet there you were in league with Arthur, plotting against Morgana and I feared you, feared your orders and your intent. Still, I kept from Morgana your magic and your ties with me for I was still bound to the sacred bond between dragons and dragonlords. I held hope that you would redeem yourself or that some explanation would become known to me.

Morgana’s failures and her actions at times dismayed me but I was not privy to all she did and there were many who followed her whose hearts were pure. They had seen nothing but persecution and saw no recourse but war.

I was as shocked as Morgana, perhaps more, to discover you were Emrys. The sorcerer that had brought much fear to Morgana and whom she said was destined to kill her. I determined that you were as much my enemy as you were hers but I could do little about it. You were a dragonlord, I was ready to tell her but then she spoke of taking your magic. I saw this as my reprieve, you would be a dragonlord no more and I need not break my silence on a sacred matter.

But you are the great warlock Emrys, Merlin of legend and as you know you returned, magic in full and sent me away from the battle of Camlan. Flee I did but when you did not strike me down I began to wonder what this meant. Why had you shown such mercy? How baffling it was.

I sought Morgana but I could not find her and then I realised why, she was dead or dying. I was alone again. The final dragonlord had sent me from him and Kilgharrah had mere hours of his life left in him. I could feel his life force ebbing away. I did not know then that Morgana had been stabbed by Excalibur, had I known I would have hastened the old dragon’s death in order to save her but –”

“I thought her wound, um,” Merlin ducked his eyes, embarrassed. “I thought I was the cause.”

“You are but Kilgharrah powered Excalibur for some hours. She would have died but for the Sidhe.”

Merlin had thought Morgana was already dead when he left her but apparently not. “You took her to the Sidhe?” It was what he’d tried to do for Arthur, to take him to Avalon.

“No, the Sidhe had come to Morgana. They knew who she was and you had angered them quite a bit. They were more than willing to help your enemy for a price.”

Merlin waited. Whatever they had done, whatever bargain Morgana had struck it seemed to have been faulty. For Morgana still suffered.

Aithusa’s tail moved in an agitated manner. “They were unable or unwilling to remove your magic. Their bargain was only to keep her alive until the dragon passed.”

“What was the price?” Merlin was concerned that any bargain with the Sidhe was dangerous.

“She has never told me perhaps she will tell you.”

Merlin breathed out scornfully, “I doubt it, she doesn’t tell me anything without a fight.”

“She has less fight in her today,” Aithusa noted pointedly, “you can not forgive her?”

Merlin knew he was being rebuked for his attitude and he knew from Aithusa’s perspective it was probably valid. Morgana was mad or half-mad by the time she committed most of her more terrible acts but, not all. “There’s a lot to forgive,” Merlin said.

“We all made mistakes, great warlock,” Aithusa said, “that is clear but we have come almost to the end of the tale of times past. I came here and after a while Morgana found me. We hid from you, we lived quietly, secretly and then we began to hear rumours that Camelot had fallen. What happened to you we did not know but Morgana knew from the wound in her side that you still lived.

After a time we began to hear of stories being told of Camelot, of knights of old, of you Merlin, the great sorcerer and of Morgana la Faye. At first, neither, Morgana nor I understood how it was that so many tales told did not resemble the life we had known but as time passed I began to realise what they were.” The dragon paused before continuing softly, “I think Morgana knows as I but she does not want to face it.”

Merlin was astonished to hear they had any relevance. “What are they?”

“Possibilities that were, prophecy of what could have been, what should have been,” Aithusa stated. “Something went awry Merlin. Something that needs to be set right and you must do it.”

“Me?” Merlin squeaked, “how exactly am I meant to set things right?” As soon as he said it Merlin regretted the question. Was this the point where Aithusa would finally demand he kill her? Or was she asking to be healed? Nothing yet pointed his way to avoid the vision.

Aithusa, however, did not answer him. “I wish to give you a gift. Something I feel will help you with setting things right. Morgana will know what to do with it. She will be unhappy I gave it to you.” Aithusa mused. “Will you fetch that bowl?”

Merlin looked around and saw that there was one on a nearby table, with fruit in it. “This one?”
“Yes,” Aithusa said. “Remove the fruit we will only need the bowl.”

Merlin put the fruit on the table.

“If you would Merlin, place it here by my head.”

Merlin did so, wondering what sort of gift required a bowl.

Aithusa’s gaze locked with Merlin’s. “I told Morgana you would save me, I hope my faith is not misplaced. Farewell Merlin, tell Morgana there was no other way.”

Merlin was confused by her words but the dragon was moving to position her head over the bowl. From her eyes she squeezed two tears, they trickled over her scales and fell, fell, fell into the bowl.

Merlin cried out in alarm, “No, Aithusa no!” It was his vision, it was happening. “You shouldn’t have, you shouldn’t have!” Merlin moaned coming to her side, horrified.

Aithusa however, was lying her chin gently down upon the ground, her breath so shallow as to be silent, her eyes closing.

Merlin reached out his hands, she was dead! He hadn’t even been given a chance, a choice. She was gone! She had used the last of her strength to give him tears. He stared in disbelief, everything seemed to slow down.

He heard Morgana scream, she must have sensed Aithusa’s death from wherever she was. She came running and pushed him aside.

“Aithusa! No, no.” Morgana buried her face against the dragon.

Numbly Merlin picked up the bowl that contained Aithusa’s tears and put it to one side.

Morgana stood suddenly, “how could you do this Merlin?” She was incensed. “You promised me you would let me know before you did anything,” her breaths were ragged and more tears fell. “I wanted to be here for her, I wanted to say goodbye. I wanted . . .” Morgana’s voice broke, “ and now I never will again.”

“Morgana I swear, I didn’t do anything. I didn’t know she was going to die,” Merlin protested helplessly.

“She was dying, you over-taxed her with your questions. You did nothing to help her!” Morgana accused. “Just go Merlin, just go. Break the bond and go, let me die. I don’t care.”

Merlin shook his head, “no, I’m not going.” Aithusa’s tears had been the first scene in his vision but the second had been of Morgana running from the cave and then of her death. Merlin couldn’t let that happen.

“Suit yourself then!” Morgan snapped, she tried to push past him but he grabbed hold of her.

She pulled against him. “Let me go, I don’t want to be anywhere near you right now Emrys.”

She spat the word. He knew she was trying to rile him. She was lashing out and he had to remember that, no matter what she said he couldn’t let her go. He couldn’t let her walk out of that cave. This time he was going to change the vision, he was going to be different. He was going to choose the path he wouldn’t have a few weeks ago. He would have let Morgana walk out of here. He would have let her die. “I’m not letting you go, Morgana. I can’t let the vision come to pass.”

She only paused a moment, “I don’t care about your vision Merlin. I cared about Aithusa. Either break the bond or die with me.”

Suddenly she stomped on his foot, Merlin’s grip loosened and she ran.

Merlin stared after her in blinding pain. She had disappeared round the corner in the direction of the exit. Merlin ran after her. His thoughts were sprinting faster than he was. Maybe he had the vision wrong? Maybe he should let her go, let the bond finally take them both. Then he wouldn’t go on and on . . .but no, magic wouldn’t let him die, Aithusa had said so!

Magic would keep him from death until he set things right but Morgana would certainly die whether he broke the bond or not. She was too weak to repay him the magic and if she parted from him the distance would kill her. Either way, it was fulfilling the next part of the vision. Merlin didn’t want that. Merlin couldn’t bare that. It was high time he acknowledged that despite all their problems, all their history some ridiculous part of him had a connection to her. Something more than just knowing that she was the last bit of magic in this world.

He sped up and reached the exit. He felt cold as he saw Morgana by the gorse pulling her shirt from it where it had caught. Her eyes blazed, “stay away from me!”

“No, Morgana,” Merlin said softly as he approached her, finally knowing what it was he had to do. He knew this was the right course, he could feel it. It was the most right he’d felt in a long time. “I’m not staying away.”

She stood puzzled, he held her gaze unfalteringly as he took in her in his arms. She did not resist but stood stiffly. He brought her closer and let his head drop to her shoulders as she finally relaxed against him and cried. His hands pressed against the small of her back and his eyes lit with gold, solemnly he intoned, “ic rnuudbora forġifnes ic i behréowse.” There was a visible glow from Morgana’s body that drew out of her and disappeared into Merlin’s hand.

Morgana gasped and shot her wide eyes to Merlin, he let her go as she took a step back, her hand flying against her wound and her eyes dropping to examine it but she did not get a chance. Her knees buckled, her eyes rolled, fluttered and closed. Merlin stepped forward to catch her before her body hit the ground.

He lifted her gently, returning to the cave.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter Text

Morgana cracked open her eyes. She felt strange. She felt light; as if she could fly. She pushed herself up in bed trying to understand it, moving gingerly to avoid pain –

But there was none!

She shook off her sleep in an instant and was alert. Her wound didn’t hurt at all, she pushed at the bed covers and her fingers stretched for her shirt and began to lift it but a cough sounded nearby. Morgana’s eyes focused on where the sound had come from and saw Merlin. He sat on a stool in the corner that she used for clothes, they were in a part of the cave she had set up as her bedchamber. Morgana didn’t speak, neither did Merlin but their eyes acknowledged one another’s presence.  He was waiting, waiting for her to confirm all of her suspicions that had suddenly come back to her. She carefully pulled up her shirt to reveal the wound. It was gone. “You healed me,” Morgana breathed in wonderment.

Merlin nodded.

She was astonished, she hadn’t ever believed it would be possible that Merlin would ever be willing or able to forgive her enough to remove the curse he had put upon her. The strange feeling that she had felt on wakening, this was how it felt to be free of pain! For less than a second she smiled and then it hit her. “Aithusa,” she remembered the rest, she moaned, “she’s gone. She’s really gone.” Morgana found herself reverberating with shock. It didn’t feel real. Life without Aithusa was incomprehensible, they had centuries together. No matter where Morgana had gone or for how long, Aithusa had been there to return to. She’d been the sole reason to go on all these long years. To think that she would never speak with Aithusa again, never hear Aithusa’s gentle tones or know her kindness or her comfort was unbearable.

“I’m sorry Morgana,” Merlin said softly, “it all happened so quickly. She never gave me any warning or any chance to help.”

Morgana ignored Merlin, whatever he was saying could not abate the terrible anguish in her heart. Tears filled her eyes, how could she go on without Aithusa, who would understand her better? “You should not have bothered healing me, you should have let me die,” she agonised. She could have been at peace at last, with Aithusa.

“No,” Merlin said his tone still calm, “I couldn’t. I need your help.”

“You need my help?” She scoffed immediately through her tears. He had not helped her with Aithusa . . . but, she reminded herself, he had just healed her, even if she was feeling ungrateful about it. “What is it you want?”

“Actually I think it was what Aithusa wanted,” Merlin responded making Morgana listen more attentively. Morgana brushed her tears away and tried to listen.

“Before she died, she gave me something,” Merlin said. “She said it was a gift and she said you would know what to do with it.”

“She gave you a gift?” Morgana couldn’t imagine what Aithusa might have had to give away or that Merlin would want.

“Tears,” Merlin answered simply but his gaze was assessing.

Morgana didn’t bother to hide her amazement as her mouth fell open and her mind raced. Aithusa had given a tear to Merlin! From what he’d just said and the look on his face he had no idea what it could do. Oh, what a dilemma! Why had Aithusa involved him? Why hadn’t Aithusa given the tear directly to her? “That was what took her so suddenly,” Morgana realised aloud. Aithusa had told her long ago what a toll it was for a dragon to cry and Morgana had never asked again. Between the two of them was an understanding that such a time may come when Aithusa would give over a tear but Morgana would only have allowed Aithusa to do so in her final moments when there was no hope. Morgana had vowed to herself to let Aithusa be the one to broach it and if she never did, if she died without giving Morgana such power, then so be it. Aithusa had evidently not forgotten about the power but she had given her tear to Merlin instead.

“What do they do?” Merlin asked.

“You have no idea at all?” Morgana checked.

Merlin shook his head.

She huffed. “You know it’s absolutely appalling your lack of knowledge surrounding dragonlore.” She hated that she sounded haughty but it was still true.

“I had no one to tell me,” Merlin shrugged but there was a note of sadness.

Morgana didn’t feel pity. “It shouldn’t have stopped you.  There was information to be found and you never tried to find Aithusa.” Morgana knew her grief was making her irritable but she was not sorry for her words.

“It was just as well don’t you think?” Merlin retorted, his anger getting the best of him.

They both sighed aware that this would only escalate if they continued in this manner.

“Would you mind if I freshened up before we have this conversation?” Morgana prompted. She needed a few minutes to collect herself, Aithusa’s death, her healing, the possibility of the spell now in Merlin’s hands, it was a lot to sort through.

“Yes, I mean no I don’t mind, I mean,” Merlin stammered, “I’ll wait outside – in the kitchen cave.”

Merlin’s hurried awkward answer made Morgana feel oddly comforted. For once he was just as out of place as she’d always felt or always been. It was good to see him off balance for once.

“Thank you,” she said then turning away from him and forcing her tone to be light she added, “incidentally where have you put the tear?”

“Somewhere safe.”

He was firm in his response. Somewhere safe. So he had the sense to keep them secure even if he had no idea what the possibilities were. She had not really thought she stood much chance of getting it away from him but she’d had to ask. He left and Morgana poured water from her pitcher into a basin and washed her face. She didn’t much like the idea of Merlin with that power and she feared he would not let her have the tear if he knew what it could do. She wondered if he would be willing to bargain with her for it – she doubted it and didn’t know what she could offer him in any case.

She soon exited her chamber and made her way to the kitchen cave, as Merlin had referred to it. It was really nothing more than a rudimentary place to store food. There were some implements for preparation but Morgana had always used the open fire in Aithusa’s chamber to cook. Thoughts of Aithusa brought tears to her eyes immediately. What was she going to do about Aithusa’s body? She supposed she could bury the entire cave. Morgana had no need to remain here now. She wasn’t sure how she felt about leaving, memories here might be too much but leaving meant she would have nothing tangible, no place to feel the connection that she once had. Tears stung the corners of her eyes again and she tried to swallow.

“You probably should eat something,” Merlin broke into her thoughts. “I think you last ate at the train station yesterday.”

The tears she’d been holding back threatened to spill again.

“What is it?” Merlin asked in concern coming towards her.

“Nothing,” Morgana said attempting to swallow the pain, “it’s just that Aithusa used to pester me to eat.” Her words ended in a sob. “I can’t believe she’s gone.”

Morgana put her hands over her face, she didn’t want to cry in front of Merlin whom she could only assume was still standing there silently, thinking her pathetic.

“It’s hard. Losing people,” Merlin’s voice sounded raw and Morgana looked up and found his eyes were glistening and pained as they rested on hers. “When you lose the people who you worried about and who worried about you . . .it’s lonely.”

His eyes shifted away and he turned and went to the bench, she detected a quiet sniff before he spoke again. “Is this water okay if I make some tea?”

There were several unlabelled bottles on the wooden bench.

“Er yes,” Morgana murmured. Care and loneliness, that was it exactly. Merlin encapsulated her despair beautifully. How was she ever going to go on? She’d had Aithusa all these years and now she was alone again. Completely. No one to confide in.

Merlin didn’t offer anything more as he took the water, poured it into a saucepan and uttered a boiling spell.

Morgana wasn’t sure if his words were telling her he understood how she felt or if he was merely contemplating his own pain and loneliness. She imagined her grief could not help but bring about some empathy in him. He wore his loneliness openly most of the time whether he was aware of it or not. Perhaps he always had, perhaps that was what had initially drawn her to him.

Morgana gathered herself, “I’ll fetch cups.” Morgana didn’t entertain and she didn’t even have more than one chair in the kitchen but cups she had several of, for various reasons among them chiefly the lack of washing facilities. The lack of running water and electricity had caused her to live simply but it had not required an adjustment as it might have had she been from this time period.

Merlin had already found the tea and sugar placed conveniently on the counter and took the cups from her silently. He finished steeping and stirring before he put her cup on the tiny dining table with the single chair. He indicated she should sit and drink while he pulled over an empty crate and sat upon that.

Morgana took a sip composing herself. Merlin was being very patient, impatiently. She could see it in his eyes, he was just waiting for the right moment to ask and trying to hold it back.

Morgana took in a quick breath; she’d rather talk than think more about Aithusa. “Dragon tears can be used in a potion to send you back in time.”

“What?” Merlin breathed out the word in shock, choking a little on his tea.

“I know it sounds farfetched even for magic,” Morgana insisted, “but there are portals to the spirit realm and to the lands of Avalon.”

“Go back in time,” Merlin laughed thinly. “That’s not even farfetched, it’s, it’s impossible, it’s laughable.” Merlin’s face stretched into a false grin, his expression did nothing to hide his burgeoning fear – he was beginning to believe it he just didn’t want to.

“It’s difficult magic, is what it is, Morgana frowned. “Very difficult and it takes a lot of power.”

“You’re telling me,” Merlin was coming to grips with it, “you can send me back in time?”

“No,” Morgana said curtly as she took another sip of her tea, “I won’t be sending you.”

“What do you mean?” Merlin asked confusedly.

Morgana gave an indignant huff. “If I did send you Merlin, what time would you go to? What would you do? What would you change?”

His brow furrowed as he gave it thought but Morgana already knew the answer he would give even if Merlin was still only beginning to grapple with the potential of it.

He opened his mouth to give some answer but she waved his answer away. “

She waved his answer away, “you’d want to save Arthur and how would you do that Merlin? Would you go back and kill Mordred? Me . . . again? Would you do something else? How could I give you that power?” She stared him down daring him to deny it.

“I suppose you think you can be trusted with it though,” Merlin countered. “I bet you know exactly what you’d do and when. Am I expected to believe you wouldn’t kill Arthur.”

“No, I wouldn’t.” Morgana snapped. “Arthur is insignificant.” She ignored Merlin’s protest. “In truth, I don’t know what I’d do. I’ve thought about it a lot. I’d want to save Morgause,” Morgana paced, “and Mordred and Gorlois and Aithusa but you can only change one event, only speak to one person, only speak the truth – no lies. How can anyone choose what might alter everything you know? How do you choose whom to save? Or how to save them all? What if you make things worse?”

Merlin sat there very quietly, his head had dropped and he was staring intently at his teacup. She could see his dark mood practically emanating from him.

Suddenly he stood. “I need to think about this. I’m going for a walk outside,” his words were curt but his tone softened as he spoke again. “Will you be all right here?”

In one moment he’d gone from angry and defensive to all concerned over leaving her alone. Morgana felt exasperated with his changeability but with those piercing blue eyes of his falling gently on her full of genuine care that she couldn’t help the weak smile that graced her lips. “I’ll be fine,” she murmured, “and Merlin, thank you. . . for healing me.”

He nodded just once and headed toward the open air. It was a lot to take in that you had the power to change the past but then it was even more difficult to entrust someone with it. Why hadn’t Aithusa trusted her?     

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Merlin took a deep breath of the cold Scottish air as he exited the cave. He’d had to get out from under Morgana’s all too perceptive gaze, she was too good at seeing his thoughts. Morgana had been eerily right in her deduction of what he’d do with such a potion. His first thought had been to kill Mordred to save Arthur and what’s more, he’d been slowly going back in his mind trying to find the best time to do it. He had wondered if he should have done so when the Dsir judged Arthur or if he should do it in the woods when Mordred left to betray them to Morgana or what about the time when Kilgharrah urged him not to help Mordred as a boy?

Morgana declaring her wish to save people had put his own thoughts in stark contrast. He had been so busy thinking of Arthur he had never even thought about the others he could save. He hadn’t even thought of his father or Gaius or Guinevere or Lancelot. What kind of person had he become where murder was his first choice? He felt wretched.

Kilgharrah had once said Morgana was the darkness to his light but Merlin feared time had altered their positions. She was more light than he was these days. Perhaps that was why he’d finally found it himself forgiving her, healing her wound. The fact that he had not even tried to examine or heal it from the beginning of the reunion shamed him, he’d assumed so much. Allowed the remnant power of Excalibur to deter him.

“You’re too hard on yourself Merlin.” The inner Gaius voice chided him gently, “you carry around so much guilt, a lot of which belongs to others I might add Besides all this self-recrimination isn’t going to set things right is it?”

A wave of realisation crashed upon Merlin, “set things right!” Arthur had mentioned something about it and so had Aithusa. Had the vision of Arthur been something more than a hallucination? But how exactly was he supposed to know how to set things right? Morgana had said there were conditions to this spell, a single event or something. He began to understand what the next step was going to have to be. It gave him the same feeling that he’d gotten when he’d healed Morgana. This feeling that he was on the right path. He was no longer fearful of the vision; he had an uncanny sense that it had been averted at least if he kept on the way he had and if he could go back to the past surely that would be the end of this awful immortality on earth. With a determined stride, he headed back to the cave and to Morgana.

Once he crossed the threshold into the darkness he lit his way, passing Aithusa with sadness. He would have to speak to Morgana about what she wished to do about the white dragon. He wondered if she would be ready to deal with that yet or should he immediately explain his ideas?

Merlin found Morgana still in the kitchen. She was sitting in the chair simply staring, lost in thoughts. There were signs she had been crying but no tears upon her cheeks. She didn’t shift from her chair but she spoke, having appeared to have heard his approach. “Did Aithusa tell you why she gave you the tear?”

It was direct if a little unexpected. “She said I had to set things right,” Merlin said realising that she’d already given him the perfect opening, “actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.”

“She told you she wanted you to set things right?” Morgana insisted.

“Yes, and I was wonderin-.”

“Why not me?” Morgana asked, “Did she say? Did she tell you why it had to be you?”

Merlin could see Morgana was agitated about this subject. “No, she didn’t,” he said carefully, “she told me that she believed magic had kept me alive to right the past. I didn’t know what she meant then.” Merlin put his hand to his chin as a thought occurred to him. “Aithusa reminded me that she’d told you I could save her, she said she hoped her faith was not misplaced. She said to tell you there was no other way. What do you think she meant?”

Morgana rubbed her temples. “I don’t know. I still can’t believe she lied to me. We had never kept secrets from each other. How could she give me such false hope?”

Merlin didn’t have an answer to that. Aithusa had appeared in every way to care about Morgana genuinely and deeply. Why had she lied?

Merlin continued to think it over. Aithusa had known she was dying and it appeared likely she knew that he couldn’t or wouldn’t save her. Merlin was not particularly good with healing magic and had no experience healing dragons, no powers that he knew of that would make any difference dragonlord or otherwise. So why had Aithusa told Morgana he could save her? Surely not just to get him here because if so, she had no need to keep up the pretence.  

Morgana sagged forward and let her elbows rest on the table and put her head in her hands. “I don’t understand any of this.”

Merlin thought that Aithusa seemed to have. She’d been very certain of her purpose. Very determined to tell him everything and give him the tears. “What if,” Merlin said beginning to feel some excitement, “what if she meant in the past?”

Morgana lifted her head back up slowly. “Save Aithusa in the past?”

Merlin nodded slowly, cautiously. Belatedly he began to have misgivings about having expressed this to Morgana, he didn’t want to make promises again that he couldn’t keep. He had to set things right in the past and if he had only one chance he didn’t want to choose ill. That brought him back to his decision to include Morgana in it. “I wondered if there might be a clue in the old stories as to what I should do to set things right.”

“The old stories? Why would you think that?”

“Aithusa said she thought they were possibilities that never were.”

“She never told me that,” Morgana took this information in. “I suppose she didn’t see the point in my agonising over them since I would have no chance to change things.”

Merlin rested his eyes upon her earnestly. “There’s a chance now.”

“You want me to help you choose?” Her astonishment was evident.

Merlin nodded. “I’m sure it was what Aithusa wanted.” It was what he’d been trying to tell Morgana all along. He wanted her involvement.

She took this in. “Did you have a particular aspect of the old stories in mind to look at?”

“Well, not exactly.”

“Okay,” she said, “how many of the old stories have you read?”

“None.” He confessed with an apologetic grin.

“Merlin!” Her brows went high with exasperation.

“What? I was there and I didn’t want to relive it.”

Morgana conceded with a nod, “fair point.” She bit her lip, “but honestly there’s so many, I don’t know where to even begin.”

Merlin wondered if they should stick to the versions closest to their own or perhaps the ones with more happy outcomes. Perhaps they all had something in common but before they did that there he needed to be sure of what they could do. “Can you tell me again the rules of this spell?”

“It’s a potion, it will open a portal for one person to change one event and only one. To do that they can either speak and be seen by one person and one person only. They can only tell the truth and only enough truth to change that one event and nothing else. Or they can change the event themselves by intervening provided no one at all sees them. Breaking any of the rules will end in the death of the spellcaster and anything done in the past wholly reversed.”

“Choosing the right time and place is important then.”

“I’d say so.”

It was overwhelming. “I’m not surprised you didn’t press Aithusa for her tears sooner.”

Morgan shook her head. “It had nothing to do with choosing an event. I knew a single tear could kill her.”

“A single tear?” Merlin repeated, “but she gave me two tears.” Merlin worried that such a confession might make Morgana blame him further for Aithusa’s death but he didn’t want confusion or more misunderstandings. He would rather face her fury here and now but Morgana had gone rigidly still.

“She . . . she gave you two tears?” Morgana’s voice wavered.

“Yes, why?” Merlin asked quickly sensing trouble.

“Two tears is enough for two potions, that is, two persons to travel back.”

They both sat silently coming to the same conclusion and speaking aloud in unison. “She wanted us to travel to the past together.”

There was more silence as Merlin thought about how much more difficult choosing an event was going to be when there was the possibility of changing two things. He put that aside as another question came to mind. “What happens to us anyway if we travel back? Are we stuck in the past?”

“No,” Morgana said solemnly, “I believe once the event is changed our lives will be changed. My understanding is that we would fade away.”

“Right, that sounds . . . final,” Merlin admitted.

“We’ve both expressed desires to end this lifetime.” Morgana was sanguine.

“It will be worth it if we can save Arthur,” Merlin mused.

“And what about the others, Aithusa, Morgause, Mordred?”

This was exactly why working together was going to be hard. “Two people, two events. I choose Arthur,” Merlin was unapologetic as he shrugged. His destiny was to protect Arthur, he wasn’t sure yet what that would mean but it was still clear that Arthur was his goal.

Morgana frowned and said nothing.

“I thought you had chosen Aithusa,” Merlin pointed out.

“And how do I do that Merlin?” Morgana demanded. “How do I save her? How am I to find her and if I do what do I tell her?”

Merlin gestured again. “There has to be something, some event which lead to you and Aithusa meeting up and being captured.”

“You poisoning me!” Morgana spat back.

Merlin felt his anger return in full force. “It always comes back to that doesn’t it!” Merlin retorted. “I didn’t know Morgause hadn’t told you about the sleeping spell. I didn’t know you weren’t complicit in all of it. I didn’t know you were inlove with me!”

Morgana gasped and flushed.

Merlin dropped his gaze too. He had not meant to ever reveal his knowledge of her past feelings. He knew it would embarrass her but he was stunned as his mouth continued to move seemingly of its own accord. “If I had known things might have been different.”

He could feel her inquiring gaze upon him, he pleaded silently for her not to ask him how, how things would be different. He wasn’t sure of the answer and was terrified of discovering it right now. Mercifully she said nothing but that equally disturbed him. Was she certain of the answer or did she, like him, wish to avoid all the horror of what ifs?

He heard her whisper to herself, “It always comes back to that.” Her eyes snapped to his, “Merlin, it always comes back to that!”

“I know but -.”

She shook her head. “Don’t you see? It comes back to that moment, everything does. If you hadn’t poisoned me, I would not have hated you and in turn those you loved. I wouldn’t have gone on to do what I did at all.”

Merlin reacted with shock. “That’s why you hated Arthur? Because of me?”

“Well, that and he was an arrogant . . .” she searched for a word, “prat.”

Merlin opened his mouth in protest until the final word registered and gave a little gesture of concession, he wondered if he’d ever used that word for Arthur in her presence or had she chosen it herself.

Morgana continued “And because he was Uther’s son and other inconsequential things that I felt petty about – but mostly yes because of you. It would be the ideal moment to change Merlin but,” Morgana sighed despairingly, “if other events don’t occur I may never meet Aithusa at all.”

Merlin considered this, “Maybe but Aithusa would not get captured or harmed.”

“Right, yes” Morgana seemed to be warming to the idea, “and Morgause would not need to die. Nor Mordred.” She fixed her eyes on Merlin, “nor Arthur.”

Merlin wondered if she was right. It couldn’t be that simple – could it? “But you were unhappy in Camelot under Uther. Do you really think you’d have remained loyal to us all?” Merlin didn’t know if he could believe that.

Morgana shifted in her seat, appearing uncomfortable. “I don’t know. You’re right that I could not have stayed in Camelot. Eventually, I’d have been found out or I’d have done something foolish to expose myself or worse.”

Merlin had not really expected her honesty but was glad of it. If they were to change things, they had to be sure it would have the desired impact. “That’s one event down then,” Merlin said it dismissively but he found himself thinking about that fateful day with the knights of Mehdir. It had led to Kilgharrah’s release, Merlin’s father’s death, his dragon powers and so much more. It had also heralded the first time a vision had come true. He’d seen such things in the crystal. Perhaps that was his first misstep! The first time he’d failed to heed a vision’s warning that his actions were going to lead to suffering. “Maybe,” Merlin voiced his thoughts, “we shouldn’t discount it.”

“I’ve realised there’s something more to the time travelling,” Morgana said, “if we are both using it, we will have to travel together.”

“Why?” Merlin asked simply.

“If one of us changes something that would be it the other wouldn’t get a chance, unless we go together.”

It made sense. It also made him feel more confident about handing over the tears. If they travelled together at least he would know what Morgana was up to. There’d be no chance of her deceiving him and suddenly killing Arthur. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe her earlier words but it was difficult to forget the past.

Morgana looked as if she was thinking hard. “Before we make decisions about anything, there’s something I need to do today.”

“Aithusa?” Merlin guessed.

She nodded.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A few hours later Merlin stood by Morgana as they entered the large cave where Aithusa’s body lay. They both held flowers that they had gathered outside that seemed in such contrast to the dark cave and the solemn moment.

“Are you sure you are ready to do this?” Merlin asked Morgana.

The sorceress took in a little shuddering breath, pressed her lips together and nodded.

Merlin took his own breath, quietly, Morgana’s grief evoked his own. He may not have spent centuries with Aithusa but he had brought her into the world in some sense and he always had great empathy for those suffering. Morgana suffered now, Aithusa had suffered in her lifetime and even though there was some hope of changing things their pain deserved acknowledgement. Their story, their past was real.

Morgana had moved towards Aithusa and began to place the flowers around the dragon’s form. Merlin did likewise when they had completed their task Morgana kneeled beside Aithusa, “You were the kindest creature I ever knew, I will miss you.”

They were simple words but they carried so much, Merlin didn’t think Morgana could have said more if she wanted to but more did not need to be said.

Merlin felt Aithusa deserved better than to be laid to rest in this cave, dark and hidden. A dragon deserved to be free and flying and in death laid beneath the serene sky on pastures green. It was a moment’s thought, with a simple incantation, Merlin lifted his hands and spread them out toward the ceiling of the cave.

“Eorðe ac stanas hiersumaþ me. Stanas oncluce, ic i wilcume hádor,” he commanded.

A great rumbling sounded above them. Beside him, Morgana lifted her head slowly, not in fear, but to observe the result of the cave pulling itself apart and letting forth the sun. It danced its light across the body of the fallen dragon but Merlin was not finished. “Bebiede þe arisan, blóstmás cwicum” he intoned with gentle encouragement. The flowers that he and Morgana had lain took root, grew leaves and buds and bloomed all the more brightly.

Merlin smiled sadly, satisfied that his work had given Aithusa, last of her kind, the respect she deserved.

Morgana had risen carefully to her feet, tears running down her face freely beholding the scene. Gentle Aithusa slept, nestled in flowers as the sun illuminated and sparkled upon her white scales.

Merlin was astounded as Morgana reached out for his hand and squeezed it. “Thankyou,” she struggled to speak through her sorrow, “it’s perfect.”

She let go of his hand, took one last look at Aithusa and walked sedately to the cave exit.

Merlin turned back to Aithusa, bowed and offered her a prayer of peace in the dragon tongue. He followed Morgana from the cave and in his final act as dragonlord sealed the entrance.

Morgana waited by the small number of worldly goods she had earlier set aside. They had agreed to journey from here to a nearby bed and breakfast. There was no bed here for Merlin, no conveniences and Morgana had decided that she could not bear to remain in the cave. Merlin had sealed the cave in such a way to enable her to return if she chose but they both knew that if they continued with their plans to return to the past they would not be part of this present.

Merlin lifted his own bag of clothes and assisted Morgana by carrying one of hers. She had packed clothes, potions and books and among them somewhere was the all important time spell. She did not have it memorised, he could not have drawn it from the bond they still shared.

They could have begun to break their bond now that Morgana was healed and yet, still they hadn’t. Merlin had grown used to the connection, he wondered if Morgana had too or had she merely forgotten among all the sorrow and revelations?

“Merlin,” she spoke as she picked their path back to the road. “There’s something I should tell you.”

Merlin tried to silence the agitation such words immediately evoked. “Yes?”

“You seem to be aware that I had feelings for you once. You asked me if I would remain loyal to Camelot and to Arthur – I don’t know but I am sure,” she paused and the corners of her mouth lifted slightly into an embarrassed smile “I’d have remained loyal to you.”

Merlin took this in while Morgana picked up her pace making sure she didn’t have to face his reaction, attempting to hide what Merlin had already guessed she still felt. More and more he was beginning to feel that destiny was pushing him towards changing a certain event but could he really put so much trust in Morgana and her tempestuous feelings? Even if he could what about the details of how to change things while still following the rules of the spell? Could they really achieve all they hoped?  Or was this just another choice that he or some other version of himself would regret?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter Text

Merlin halted in front of the remnant forest that he and Morgana had travelled to. They had done a lot of debating – sometimes shouting – about when and what to do with their time travel spell in the last few days but the one thing they had agreed upon easily was that the time spell must be done upon the grounds that had once been Camelot.

Neither of them had found it easy to discuss the past, old feelings still flared and pained and there was the pertinent matter of trust. Whatever trust lay between them in the here and now could not compare to the trust they would have to put in one another in the past. In their modern lives there was little at risk but when they returned to Camelot, where so much of themselves was still tethered, so many loved ones, memories and events, it would be a great temptation to sway things more drastically in favour of his or her self. Merlin had already acknowledged that his first thoughts had been to kill Mordred but other equally dark thoughts had whispered to him since. Two things made him ignore them, his sense of right and wrong and his fear that any changes he made might make things worse!

Even the plan they agreed upon had risks, both of them would have opportunities to betray each other and even if they managed to do all they intended, the future was not guaranteed. There was every chance one or both of their younger selves would take some other unfortunate path or that other forces would shape things.

Merlin suspected Morgana knew this as well but they had not spoken of it. They talked only of what they might say and do to change things and of what was needed to do the spell.

Now they were here, ready. They need only enter the forest that had once been Camelot’s but they both stood staring into it as if they might catch a glimpse of the future . . . or the past.

“You hid Camelot in here?” Morgana broke the silence, whispering incredulously.

The forest before them was deceptively small but not hidden at all from the public.

Merlin shrugged. “After what happened to Camelot in the past I had to do something to protect it from further ruin. I was worried some sorcerers might overcome any spell I used to hide it. Shrinking it was all I could think of at the time. . . and it was not long before I found myself wandering in Caledonia.” He let the words hang heavy with meaning. Morgana understood his past. She knew that he had wandered as Myrddin the wilt, mad with grief and despair. He had lacked reason for quite some time.

“It wasn’t a criticism Merlin, just surprise,” Morgana was gentle in tone.

“I know,” he said. Despite the tumultuous few days, they seemed to have found a way to stop reacting so instantly to one another.

Merlin continued to gaze at the trees ahead. “I haven’t had the heart to return,” he confessed to Morgana. “I didn’t see the need. I always believed that Arthur would return from the lake of Avalon, even when it disappeared.”

At the mention of the lake, Morgana looked uneasy.

Merlin faced her. “Aithusa mentioned you made a deal with the Sidhe.”

Morgana’s expression became haunted. “Yes. . . I agreed to their terms.”

“Which were?” Merlin hadn’t meant to ask, to pry into something that might be very unpleasant but some instinct told him he should.

“Nothing that matters now or ever will,” Morgana said firmly.

Merlin got the impression she didn’t quite believe it. It was understandable, deals done with Sidhe once often left a human open to more dealings with them even when said exchange had been completed. “You must have been glad when the lake disappeared.”

Morgana shook her head, “not really.”

“No?” Merlin responded.

“The Sidhe knew it was coming,” Morgana said. “They told me that this world and their magic would not remain connected as they had. Perhaps they understood that magic was pouring itself into us. I don’t know. Their concept of things, of time and magic is strange and dissimilar to ours but even when the lake disappeared I understood they were not beyond reach or rather I was not beyond theirs.”

Merlin frowned deeply. “You did fulfil your end of the bargain didn’t you?”

“I was unable to,” Morgana’s mouth twisted into a smile, “serves them right. They didn’t keep up their end entirely either.” At Merlin’s questioning expression she added, “to heal me.”

Merlin did not press further, the Sidhe were unimportant right now and the past was about to change things anyway. His curiosity and concern were likely attempts by some part of him to put off entering this woodland, he told himself. He remained immobile, staring at the woodland silently and realised that Morgana, beside him, had not prompted him to get on with it.

This was a significant moment, a beginning, an ending, a change of destiny. If all went well some version of him, some version of Morgana would never know the pain and suffering that they'd endured but he, this Merlin and this Morgana, they would no longer exist. It was strange to contemplate and until now Merlin had chosen not to. Arthur had always been his priority, he’d always been willing to give his life for Arthur’s sake and this was his opportunity to do it again. Now, now was the time to finally fulfil that promise.

Merlin took a deep breath and entered the forest with Morgana following. The trees had grown, propagated, died, and changed but he knew these woods. The woods of Camelot, the very air overwhelmed him with memory. Tears pricked his eyes and he blinked them hastily away. They had a task ahead of them and soon these woods would be not just the woods of his memory but of the woods of the true real past.

Morgana was also quiet, lost in her own reveries but her hand had reached out to his and somehow their fingers had entwined.

Together they walked until Merlin found the right place. He had shrunk the castle, forbid the forest to encroach upon it and allowed only a single hawthorn to encompass the space. Finally, he had placed a protection spell upon the surrounding woods. A curse had fallen upon anyone who disturbed this place. Despite his fears, no sorcerer had undone any one of his charms.

Merlin took off his pack and Morgana did likewise and they wordlessly set up the area for their spell. There were no candles or symbols drawn into the ground, only a fire that Merlin laid with a nearby pot and some ingredients and two cups that Morgana was working with.

“It’s time Merlin,” Morgana said.

Merlin gave a nod. His eyes focused on the hawthorn. “Fyrhþ, ic i āhebbe wyrgþu, þyrnet þu you brīest, cynedóm onhlídest geséðung grīetu. Camelot forsċiepest!”

Before them, Camelot appeared as if it grew from the very ground, great towering stones and chiselled gargoyles that had once terrorised the city under Cornelius Sigan’s command but it was not the majestic fortress it had been in Arthur’s day. Towers were broken or missing in one quarter, the outer walls lay in a crumpled heap as if they were giant stone tears shed and pooling upon the courtyard. Windows were bereft of their glass and there was silence.

Morgana gasped reminding Merlin that she had not seen it come to ruin. Her feelings for it he did not guess. He was preoccupied with his own, the guilt of not preventing Camelot’s downfall. He had always wondered if he’d done enough. Had he held back, subconsciously hoping that Arthur would return if he allowed things to just get that little bit worse? Merlin was never sure. He only knew that when the walls of Camelot fell and Guinevere breathed her last that he had begun to doubt everything all the more. If Arthur had not returned to save Gwen or Camelot then when would he? The thought of waiting long decades had overwhelmed him – he had not known then that centuries lay ahead. It was just as well for it had been enough disappointment to send his thoughts into chaos. He’d felt he’d failed Arthur again. He began to wonder what Camelot and Albion were, what were they without the people in them that were now gone? He’d wondered if anything, in the end, mattered at all. Merlin’s head had swam with questions, with doubts, with grief and disillusionment. His thoughts faltered and raced in a frenzied disorganised manner.  He had always feared returning to Camelot would trigger the same response but it did not. There was hope this time.

Merlin glanced at Morgana to see if she was ready to take the next step, he was surprised to see her eyes swimming with tears. They shared a look and he suddenly knew that he could trust her, not just now but with all they had to do. Now was the time to set things right. He pulled the vial that contained the dragon tears from his jacket and gave them to her.

Solemnly she poured them into the pot that contained the potion before decanting it into the two glasses. She nodded at Merlin, and together they recited the spell, once, twice, five times. Their eyes illuminated with magic, they drank the potion and the world around them changed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Merlin stared awestruck at the castle before him, wholly intact. Somehow he’d forgotten how it shone in the sunlight. He’d never really admired it as he did now. Even when he first arrived it had been less about the structure and more about the possibilities within it. Time had changed his perspective little in that regard but he did take a moment to acknowledge that he and Morgana had done it. They had arrived.

“We better hurry,” Morgana urged. Her face was serious, intent on her objectives. Their objectives . . . he hoped.

He nodded and transformed himself into an old man and Morgana aged herself. They did not want to be mistaken for their younger selves by anyone in Camelot. It would not do to disrupt the timeline in that fashion . . . although they had considered it. They did not expect to meet anyone, that was supposing they had arrived at the right time and place.

They moved forward cautiously and breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the square strewn with unconscious guards and knights.

“It worked,” Merlin confirmed.

“Yes,” Morgana said, “there are no second chances Merlin. Remember the rules, only the truth, only one person, only one event. Don’t be tempted to change anything else.”

“I know,” Merlin nodded.

“See you in the servant’s quarters . . . maybe,” Morgana gave a weak smile.

Merlin was confused and alarmed, “what do you mean maybe?”

Morgana rolled her eyes at him, “in case we disappear immediately,” she explained indignantly.

“Oh right,” Merlin ducked his head. He’d thought Morgana was making some threat to not fulfil her end of the bargain. Where had the confidence gone that he'd had mere moments ago?

“You can trust me, Merlin,” Morgana took his hand and looked at him squarely.

How the tables had turned. “I know,” he said and tried to mean it.

He was sure she saw through him but she gave his hand a final squeeze, “see you in the servant’s quarters,” she reiterated firmly. She did not wait and walked determinedly across the square.

Merlin walked towards Camelot’s entrance, up the stairs that served the courtyard and into the main keep. It was all so familiar even after a thousand years. He soaked it in. If these were his final moments it was worth it.

He wound his way towards the physician’s chambers. He would lay in wait there for what he must do. Merlin halted as he came to the familiar wooden door. He placed his hand upon it feeling the texture of the wood, the weight it carried, then, his hand reached for the handle and pushed. Merlin could smell it, a mixture of herbs and paper.

He was home.

His eyes swept the chamber until they fell upon Gaius. He was sleeping upon the stretcher where his younger self had put him after destroying his chair. Merlin was unprepared for the grief that overwhelmed him. He came forward and achingly stared at Gaius. To see his old friend’s face, to be able to be in the same place as the man he’d thought of as a second father was incredible and yet he could not speak with him, could not hear his voice, could not tell him of all the woes that had befallen him or revel in a reunion nor feel the comfort of Gaius arms around him. It was torturous. Tears ran down his face and he did not halt them but Merlin reminded himself that he would have this reunion and so much more . . . if he did things right. He must hurry to conceal himself.

Merlin composed himself, going over and over in his mind what he would do, what he would say. Would it be enough? It had to be.

Finally, the door opened. His younger self walked in looking agitated. The youth bustled about grabbing provisions, stuffing things he thought he would need in a bag. Ancient Merlin watched, holding himself back from intervening - not yet, not yet, he told himself. The youth halted, glanced at the apothecary shelf – it was almost time - and finally stalked towards it, he reached for the hemlock. The young fool barely hesitated and snatched it up with such decisiveness and arrogance that Merlin felt suddenly incensed. He stepped from the shadows, old and menacing.

“So that’s it is it?” Merlin demanded, “you’re going to give up on finding any other solution.”

The youth turned startled and the hemlock slipped from his hands and shattered upon the floor.

The two sorcerers stared at it for a moment together. His past self looked dismayed but Merlin broke into a satisfied leer as the liquid ran into a particularly large crack in the flagstones and disappeared. So, clumsiness could, after all, be a virtue.

“Who are you?” the youth said defensively.

The young warlock’s arms were at his side but Merlin knew that his former self was prepared to act if he needed to. Merlin did not want that, they had no time for it. “I am someone who has come to warn you that your actions are risking your destiny and that of Arthur and Camelot.”

The young Merlin looked alarmed. “What do you know of my destiny? Are you with Morgause?”

Old Merlin huffed, “With Morgause? Hardly. As to your destiny, I know everything you know. I know that you are the greatest sorcerer to ever live, I know that it is your destiny to protect Arthur and bring about Albion and I know that if you go on as you’re about to you will never fulfil it!”

“What do you mean?” the youth worried. There was fear in his eyes but he lifted his chin.

“Look at you, so unaware,” old Merlin shook his head disgustedly. “You are so consumed with protecting Arthur’s destiny at any cost but did it occur to you that these actions you are taking will be part of that legacy?” The expression on the youth’s face said it hadn’t. “Do you think that is what Arthur would want? Morgana murdered?” Old Merlin drove the point home.

The youth was taken aback by having his plans laid before him. “How do you know that? Who are you?”

Old Merlin snorted, “answer me and I’ll answer you.” It pleased Merlin to make the pun but it was lost on his younger version.

“I didn’t want to. You said it yourself I have to protect Arthur. It’s my destiny.”

Old Merlin shook his head and curled his lips. “You think you are protecting Arthur and Albion but in reality, you are undermining everything you want him to stand for! Poisoning Morgana is not the answer. She has killed no one and she is not aware that she is the source of this spell.”

The youth paled. “She doesn’t know?”

“She does not.” Merlin could see that his revelations had some impact. Young Merlin was looking quite ill. He took pity. “She may have an inkling that there is a spell at work. Some part of her might be aware that this is Morgause’s doing but you can’t kill her for it – not even to stop this spell.”

“Then what I am to do? I can’t let Morgause take Camelot she will surely kill Uther and even supposing that she doesn’t kill Arthur, he will want to revenge his father. Morgause has already proven herself against him before and Arthur will die trying.”

“You must listen to me, Merlin!” Old Merlin thought he heard something of Gaius’ tone in his command. “Arthur’s life depends on you and on this; you must ensure that Morgana remains loyal to Arthur and to Camelot. If you don’t then you will fail Albion, it will never be all that it can be. Do you understand?”

Merlin nodded. “You still haven’t told me who you are.”

“I did,”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Did,” old Merlin said stubbornly.

“I haven’t got time for this,” young Merlin went for his things.

“You won’t like the answer,” warned old Merlin, “I come from the future.”

The youth turned with an incredulous look on his face. There was a narrowing of his eyes suggesting he was about to give an angry outburst at being mocked but the expression faded as he watched old Merlin transform.

“There’s more I’d like to tell you,” said old Merlin kindly (who looked young) “but I can’t. The spell I used to come back is difficult and powerful but important. I had to change things. You have to keep Morgana on Arthur’s side.” Old Merlin found his voice and tone had changed. He was more earnest and serious in his younger form, less sarcastic and curmudgeonly.

His younger self was shaking his head. “This is a spell.”

“Yes but I’m not an imposter.” Old Merlin had expected this. “I know that Arthur loves Guinevere and that you were going to run away with Freya and . . . that you killed Nimue.”

The younger sorcerer took this in, his expression deeply concerned. “What is my mother’s name?” He hedged.

“Hunith.”

“The worst thing you’ve ever tasted?”

“To this day both versions of the troll potion.”

The youth scratched at his ear. “Glad to hear I won’t be putting anything worse in my mouth.”

They both grinned at each other a moment before the youth returned to looking uncomfortable. Old Merlin didn’t wonder that he still found it confronting to see another version of himself. “I will tell you what comes next,” old Merlin hoped that he spoke true. Morgana need only keep up her end of the bargain.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Morgana waited in a darkened corner of the castles foyer, she had removed her aging spell, she wouldn’t be needing it further. From where she stood she could see the square of the castle. She tried to stop herself from trembling, she wasn’t at all sure her powers of persuasion were going to be enough to do what needed to be done.

Morgana thought her heart was beating fast with anxiety until her eyes landed upon Morgause. There was her sister, alive well, clad in armour, so strong and determined. So confident. Morgana had never felt she’d lived up to her but now was the time to prove herself worthy.

“Morgause!” Morgana called as the blonde sorceress almost passed her by.

Morgause halted and the knights of Mehdir at her command stopped also.

“Morgana,” Morgause greeted, unsurprised to see the woman she thought was the source of her spell.

Morgana felt tears falling down her face at the sound of her sister’s voice. She rushed to her and threw her arms around her in an embrace. “It is so good to see you sister, so very, very good.”

Morgana tried to collect herself as she pulled herself back, she would need her faculties.

Morgause was wrinkling her brow delicately, no doubt confused as to why such affection was being shown. In this timeline, they did not yet know one another well. “Sister?” Morgause began tentatively. “Can it be that you have learnt of our bloodties?”

“I have,” Morgana said, “but the Morgana of your time has not.” Seeing the questioning look on Morgause’s face she hurried on. “I will explain but I must also ask you not to harm anyone in Camelot – even Uther.”

Morgause pulled back and her sword came forward. “This is a trick.”

“No Morgause, this is no spell of deceit.” Morgana held out her hands in disarmament. “You know that no sorcerer is safe in Uther’s kingdom, there is none that stand against you for ill. I am your sister, truly your sister but I have used a spell to come back in time to prevent the events of today.”

Morgause was listening but a frown was still upon her face.

Morgana lifted her arm slightly. “You see upon my wrist the healing bracelet that you gave me that belonged to our mother. You feel the bond between us, in your heart you know it is me.” Morgana stared at Morgause, willing her to feel it.

Morgause cautiously ran her eyes over the bracelet and allowed herself to consider the possibility. “A time spell?”

“Yes,” Morgana replied simply.

“That is a great power,” the blonde sorcerer’s eyes sparkled with interest.

“It was not done easily nor without great purpose, purpose that matters to you and to me,” Morgana spoke firmly. She knew Morgause would respect such a tone. “Morgause, you can not kill Uther and make an enemy of Arthur. You must remain an ally to Arthur and see that he takes the throne.”

“And why should I do that sister?” Morgause asked.

Morgana felt the distress rising in her. “Because great suffering will follow if you do not. Many deaths including your own.”

Morgause pursed her lips but she did not hesitate long to respond. “Why should I believe you?”

“Because I’m going to trust you with myself,” Morgana announced. “Your sleeping spell has done its job but your goal must not be Uther but Morgana. She cannot stay in this kingdom while Uther is King. You know that she is not safe here, she knows it too. Every day is a risk, every day she must face the prospect that if she were discovered not a soul would defend her. It is destroying her.” Morgana’s voice was thick with memory but she swallowed hard. “You must take her from here. Teach her to use her magic so that when the time is right you both can return and join with Arthur for a Kingdom of peace for all.”

“Join with Arthur Pendragon?” Morgause was incredulous. She shook her head. “I see it in your eyes sister, you do not believe the words you speak.”

Morgana shifted her eyes from her sister. She could not have lied to Morgause even if the timespell allowed it. “I do not disbelieve the words. Such a thing did not come about in my time but in yours, it may. Morgause, you must do this.” Morgana came forward taking her sister’s hands and implored her with every part of her soul.

Morgause was moved by her, she could tell. “Suppose I take your other self from here and I teach her. How will we know when this time is right to return? Can you tell me how many months or years we will wait, how many of our kind will die at Uther’s hands that might be spared should he die today?”

“You will not succeed Morgause.” Morgana snapped, speaking plainly. It was the truth because one way or another Merlin, one or both of them, would foil Morgause. Morgana couldn’t begin to wonder what that might do to the timeline or even to the timespell.

Morgause raised her brows at the outburst.

Morgana softened her tone. “There are others working for good ends Morgause. Do not work against them.”

Morgause stared hard into Morgana’s eyes. “You caution me. You are frightened sister.”

“Yes.”

“Even with your great power?”

“Yes.”

Morgause weighed Morgana’s words, her actions, her very tone and finally she gave a nod. “I will do as you ask . . . for now.”

Morgana breathed out and a small but satisfied smile crept onto her face. “There is a little more I must say,” she paused, “and something else you must know about Arthur’s servant.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Merlin watched the youth depart Gaius’ chambers. Had he got through to the young man about the importance of keeping Morgana on his side? He hoped so.

Merlin waited a few moments before he exited. He and Morgana had planned to sneak into the room before the others got there, to see for themselves the final change of events before they disappeared.

He would have to hurry to beat Arthur and his younger self to the room. He hope Morgana likewise knew the risks of running into anyone other than Morgause.
He got to the room and heard a noise not much further down the corridor. It seemed he was just in time. He slipped in, making towards a floor-length tapestry that had behind it a groove large enough to hide in. Morgana was not there. His heart plummeted. Had she failed to convince Morgause? Had she betrayed him? If she had was there something he could do, here and now without destroying the timespell?

The sound of the door scraping across the cobbled floor gave him a moment’s hope that she was merely late in joining him but no it was his younger self, younger Morgana dragging an unconscious Uther and Arthur would be following. Merlin managed enough willpower to withdraw into the crevice, preventing himself from being seen but also denying himself the sight of Arthur. He heard the three plonk the tyrant king upon the bed.

“He should be safe in here for a while.”

Merlin felt shaken to his core to hear Arthur’s voice. How he longed to reveal himself, to catch one small glimpse of his dear friend. It was taking so much to simply keep his knees locked in place. His ear strained and he could hear the laboured breathing of the two youths under the effects of the sleeping spell. He waited to see if his younger self would do what he had told him to.

“Arthur, here, have some water it will help revive you.”

“I’m feeling fine,” Arthur spoke.

“You don’t look it,” the young Merlin argued.

Arthur still refused. Stubborn idiot. He never was very cooperative.

Merlin wondered what his counterpart would do.

He heard his younger self direct Morgana to the window to check what she could see and then old Merlin felt the use of magic and a slight thump.

The younger Morgana gasped, “Arthur! He’s fallen asleep. Oh Merlin I think I’ve done something terrible. I didn’t realise –.”

“It’s alright,” young Merlin broke in. “I know you didn’t realise what Morgause had done.”

“Morgause? Done? What do you mean?” The lady Morgana’s voice was distressed.

“You’re the source of the spell Morgana.”

“Oh no,” she responded sincerely, “I thought it was a dream, I thought . . . but Uther he deserves anything that comes to him.” Morgana’s voice was suddenly weary.

Merlin cut in again. “Uther can’t harm you, Morgana, not anymore. Morgause is coming for you. She’s going to take you from Camelot and teach you how to control your magic.”

“How do you know this, Merlin?”

There was something in Morgana’s tone that made the hairs on the back of old Merlin’s neck stand on end. Young Morgana had suspicions and they were heading towards a revelation that Merlin had magic. Old Merlin had not considered Morgana finding out the truth here and now about his powers, nor given much thought as to when she would. That had been for the past to work out, he’d thought, or the future as it were now. He did not think it was prudent to trust her just yet nor for Morgause to find out either but it was out of his hands.

“I’m not working with Morgause if that’s what you think,” young Merlin responded.

“I didn’t,” Morgana said thrown off by the servant’s sudden irritation.

“You told me once,” Merlin began, “that you hoped someday people would see magic for good. Other people in the kingdom want this too and they think Arthur will not only come to see this but bring about a kingdom that is fair for all and they think you can help him do that but not yet. Arthur’s not ready. That’s why you have to go now. You can’t stay here, it’s not safe for you.”

“These others want me to go?” Morgana sounded surprised.

“For now.”

There was silence and old Merlin only hoped that the lady Morgana was nodding or thinking it over.

The door moved again. Old Merlin heard scuffling and his younger self cautioning someone. “Don’t come any closer. I won’t let you harm anyone. I promise you.”

“Ah, you must be the servant I’ve heard of,” Morgause’s tone was assessing.

Old Merlin didn’t like it. What exactly had Morgause heard? Had Morgana revealed his powers to her?

“I don’t know what you’ve heard,” young merlin said with clear discomfit, “but I’m just a servant.”

“Hmm, one threatening a high priestess,” Morgause pointed out regally, “but I have heard that you are a friend to the lady Morgana. I hope I am not deceived.”

“Yes,” Merlin responded, “that is I am her friend, always.”

“As am I,” Morgause said, “that is why I’m going to ask her to come with me. Would you like to leave here Morgana, leave Uther and Camelot and be among kin?”

“Yes,” Morgana said, “I would like that.”

“Then that’s what we will do,” Morgause sounded pleased.

“What about the sleeping spell,” young Merlin broke in.

“It will dissipate when we depart,” Morgause said dismissively.

“How do I know I can trust you?” Young Merlin put forth urgently.

“You dare question my word?”

“No,” the young sorcerer said firmly, “not if you swear it.”

“Then swear it I will if you servant, promise to give Uther a message.”

Merlin heard his younger self answer, “I promise.”

“Tell him I’ve come for my own. He will understand.”

There was a pulse of magic and old Merlin knew that Morgause had left with Morgana. It was done. Any moment now he would disappear and the past would be renewed. Any moment and in that last moment he was going to look once more upon the friend he had lost so long ago. After all this time, all these years, it was the least destiny owed him. Old Merlin pulled back the tapestry slightly, carefully and took in the prone form of Arthur, alive, breathing. Just as he remembered him.

Merlin was overwhelmed with joy and it took a moment to realise that the prince was moving. Old Merlin pulled back the tapestry hurriedly catching the eye of his younger self wide with surprise as he did.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Young Merlin watched Arthur jump to his feet blinking the sleep from his eyes as if he’d had merely a close call with falling asleep. “Come on Merlin, we’ve got to move my father.”

“Um,” Merlin did not know how exactly to tell Arthur what had just happened and the prince didn’t seem to have noticed that Morgana was missing.

A groan sounded from the cot and the King began to sit forward. “Where am I?”

“Father!” Arthur went to Uther’s side, “the spell must be weakening.” He shot a look at Merlin for confirmation and then towards the space where Morgana had stood. “Where’s Morgana?”

“I asked you a question Arthur, what am I doing here?” Uther demanded, “and what is going on?”

“There was a sleeping spell father, we moved you here for safety. Morgause is here.”

“Morgause,” Uther stood and drew his sword.

Merlin wondered why it was these things were always left for him to explain. He stepped forward awkwardly. “She’s gone, sire. Morgause left.”

“What?” Arthur said pulling Merlin aside. “She was just in the corridor a few moments ago. You and I both saw her.”

Merlin shook his head, “Yes but she’s gone now and,” Merlin looked at Arthur pityingly, “she took Morgana with her.”

“She what?” Uther stepped toward Merlin menacingly.

“I’m sorry Sire, it happened so quickly but Morgause told me to give you a message.” Merlin was glad of being able to divert Uther’s attention back to Morgause.

“Go on,” Uther growled.

Merlin swallowed, “She said she had come for her own.”

Uther paled.

“What does that mean?” Arthur puzzled.

Uther rallied himself so quickly Merlin was sure Arthur had not noticed it. Uther waved his hand dismissively. “For her own revenge, I imagine, who can understand the mind of a sorceress? You know her lies.”

Arthur frowned, probably thinking of the past event but Merlin was watching Uther, wondering what exactly the phrase meant. At the time Morgause gave him the message he had assumed that Morgause wanted to let Uther know that Morgana was a sorceress, one of her own. Merlin had thought better of delivering such words, he’d promised to keep Morgana’s secret but she was far from Uther now and he had similarly promised Morgause to give Uther the message and Morgana had uttered no protest. Merlin had even been quietly hopeful that revealing Morgana’s magic would soften Arthur to it and maybe even Uther. But now, the look on Uther’s face suggested some secret understanding of the message and Merlin could not believe that he had known about Morgana’s magic so what was it? What was the meaning?

Uther continued deeply agitated, “Morgana would not have gone willingly.”

Merlin thought it better if Uther continued to believe that. “She might have been enchanted,” Merlin suggested.

Uther nodded and then his face contorted nastily as it refocused on Merlin, “and how did you come to be the only one awake and able to receive her message?”

Merlin swallowed and his gaze shifted to Arthur. The prince was staring at him expectantly. There was no accusation, no mistrust in the expression but he did seem piqued. “You outlasted me?”

Merlin would have rolled his eyes if the King wasn’t present. That was what Arthur was concerned about! Who could outlast who when under enchantment. Uther however was unrelenting in his glare and so Merlin thought hard for a suitable answer. The truth was that Arthur had only succumbed to the spell so early because Merlin had given him a magical nudge. His old sorcerer self had suggested a sleeping potion in water but Arthur had refused to drink and he’d had to improvise. Unfortunately, his older self had also given no instruction on dealing with Uther or Arthur’s questions when they did wake up and Merlin had been unable to forget that his older self was horrifyingly hiding behind the tapestry that Uther was awfully close to.

Merlin took on a pose that he hoped conveyed subservience. “I uh, did, did succumb to the sleeping spell just after Prince Arthur,” Merlin smiled inwardly that would irritate the prat, “but Morgause woke me, I guess so that I could relay the message. She wouldn’t have dared rouse Prince Arthur. . . or you sire.” Merlin bowed.

Uther was frowning disconcertingly at him but Arthur spoke getting the king’s attention. “We’ll go after Morgause, father. She can’t have gone far.”

Merlin saw no point in contradicting this. Morgause was probably long, long gone and if so all the better for Morgana.

“Yes, sound the warning bells. Gather your men.” Uther commanded.

“We will find her father,” Arthur reassured, “we will hunt Morgause down and free Morgana. Whatever it takes.”

“Go,” Uther agreed, “I will consult the council as to the kingdom’s defences. Camelot must be ready in case of further attack.”

Uther was already heading out with Arthur. Merlin took one worrying look back at the tapestry as he followed. If either the king or prince had found a second Merlin, it would have been as good as announcing that he was a sorcerer! Merlin hoped his elder self had the good sense to realise this and would return to his own time as promptly as possible. Merlin had enough to deal with, Uther slightly suspicious in his current mood, Arthur no doubt set on proving himself to his father by finding Morgana and another looming task ahead of him - a promise to fulfil.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Old Merlin stepped from the tapestry. Well, this was a problem. Every moment that passed he expected to disappear but here he was still in the castle of Camelot. Morgana – from his timeline – had not appeared and he wondered if she was still somewhere in the castle or if, for some reason, she had dissipated while he hadn’t. He couldn’t say what he hoped for. If she had disappeared, he had no one to consult as to why the spell hadn’t removed him from this timeline but if Morgana were stuck like him in the castle, then they were both in very great danger of undoing the spell they had worked so hard to make a success.

Morgana in days past had told him the rules again and again. He could not talk to anyone but his younger self and he could not be seen by anyone else either! Merlin knew it was impossible for him to leave not only a castle full of disorientated and probably grumpy knights, squires and servants but also a kingdom of equally confused citizens without being seen. The sound of the warning bells overhead confirmed this unlikelihood of having even less chance.

He had never been very adept at teleportation spells, they had a habit of depositing him randomly. He was very aware that appearing somewhere on the grounds of Camelot, out of nowhere, using magic would be a very terrible thing if it happened in front of someone, notwithstanding the rules of the current spell. How disastrous to have all their plans ruined now! His curiosity had led to this. He should have got out of Camelot earlier but he had not.

He couldn’t stay behind the curtain, he couldn’t be seen by anyone and if he was he couldn’t talk his way out of things. Supposing he stayed here in these servants’ quarters, using magic on the inhabitants to keep them unaware of him what then? He paused thinking it over. Would he be breaking the spell by interfering with them? Would that be counted as another action? How long could he seriously expect to remain unhidden anyway? He’d have to sleep sometime.

Merlin chewed on his finger as he paced. He wished he’d learnt more about this spell and why exactly such rules were needed.

“Merlin!” Morgana’s voice echoed urgently in his thoughts.

“Morgana!” he responded telepathically and halted his pacing, “where are you?”

“I’m in the darkling woods hiding,” she said, “I couldn’t get to the rendezvous in time. Where are you?”

“I’m in the castle.”

“What!” She shouted and Merlin winced. “Merlin, you’ve got to stay hidden or you’ll wreck the spell.”

“Yeah I know, I know, but why haven’t we disappeared Morgana? I watched, it all went as we planned.”

“It did?” Morgana half queried, “Good, good.”

“What do you mean good?” Merlin spluttered, “We’re still here!”

“Yes, we are,” Morgana admitted.

“Well? What does it mean? Why are we still here?”

Merlin waited for her to answer. Through the bond they still shared he could feel it, hesitation at delivering the bad news. He braced himself.

“I can only guess Merlin but,” she paused, “what we did can not have changed things or at least not enough or, not yet.”

“How could it not?”

“Maybe it takes more time.”

Merlin dropped his head, he knew things had gone too well. “So we’re not going to disappear anytime soon?”

“I don’t think so.”

“And I’ve got to remain out of sight or everything we’ve done will just reverse?”

“Yes.”

“Great, just great. Any suggestions on how I manage that?” He asked.

“You don’t have the strength left to teleport?”

“I have the strength,” he responded simply, “I uh, I just don’t do teleports very well. Maybe you could teleport here and then teleport us –.”

“No, Merlin I can’t,” Morgana cut in, “you don’t feel it?”

“Feel what?” Merlin felt fear welling within.

“The bond, we’re too far apart. It’s sapping my magic. I can’t teleport to you.”

Merlin could feel it. That stupid bond, they should have done something about it sooner but somehow neither had broached the subject and with everything they were doing it hadn’t mattered. It mattered now. As for the sensation of weakening magic he had supposed it was a natural part of fading away. No such luck. So now his options were even fewer. If he didn’t get back to Morgana soon they were both going to lose their magic and die – which would be acceptable if they’d changed things and if it didn’t leave him even more vulnerable to being discovered and ruining that.

“Any other suggestions?”

“Get Merlin to help you get out, he’s the only one that can.”

“He’ll love that,” Merlin grumbled beginning to remember just how many things his younger self had always needed to juggle.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter Text

Merlin adjusted his position in the saddle as he followed Arthur and the knights. They were headed urgently for the ridge. Arthur was convinced Morgause and the presumed kidnapped Morgana would be just beyond it. Merlin hoped Arthur was wrong as he had been on the last three occasions. Arthur had been very certain they’d find the two women in the last two outlying villages and even a hollow tree, which had merely startled several rats. Even so, Merlin was unable to suppress his anxiety each time at the thought of them catching up to Morgause and Morgana.

Merlin did not know how much distance Morgause could have travelled with her spell. For all he knew they were well beyond Uther and Arthur’s reach but if not then what? The possibilities for disaster were many. Morgause might use her magic against Arthur which in turn might force Merlin to reveal his own. Morgana might reveal her magic in the scuffle or announce her willingness to leave which Arthur would not understand. His future self had warned that Arthur and Morgana must remain allies. That would be difficult if Arthur learned of Morgana’s magic or felt betrayed by her.

Merlin noticed with small relief that the sun was setting, they would not be able to continue their search much longer without returning to Camelot first. They had no provisions with them and the horses were also tiring. Yet Arthur was driving the search party forward showing no hint of slowing. Merlin knew why. The prince felt he was failing Uther. Arthur was ever trying to prove himself and Uther was rarely satisfied. Merlin felt a pang of guilt over his part in putting Arthur in this position.

Arthur reached the ridge and halted. Merlin’s heart quickened as he quickly urged his horse into a position where he could see the valley below. Even in the decreasing light, he could see the plain was empty of movement and there were no obvious signs of smoke. Arthur grunted in displeasure.

“Sire,” one of the knights broached, “evening is falling.”

Merlin watched the internal struggle as Arthur fought his urge to continue against the practicalities. Ordinarily, Merlin would have offered some unsolicited advice or words of comfort. Perhaps offering hope that the other search parties had found Morgana or finding some way of them continuing but Merlin could do neither. This pursuit was best ended and he already felt that he had lied to Arthur enough today.

“We’ll return,” Arthur announced, “check on the defences of Camelot and get a fresh start tomorrow.” Once said the prince wasted no time urging the group toward Camelot.

Merlin had seen the determination in Arthur’s eyes as he spoke about resuming the search the next day. Merlin knew Arthur well enough to know that he was already rehearsing what he’d tell Uther, the promises he’d make to pacify the King. Merlin felt anger at Uther’s often unreasonable demands and expectations but it was fleeting, replaced by Merlin’s own guilt. He had failed to consider Uther’s reaction. If he’d thought quickly enough perhaps he could have spared Arthur this redundant search but Merlin could not think of anything then or now that could have deterred it or kept Uther from blaming Arthur.

The prince looked back and slowed his horse coming even with Merlin.

“You’ve been very quiet Merlin,” Arthur said grimly.

“I uh,” Merlin found himself unusually lost for words. He wasn’t sure what he could say to Arthur to make this situation better.

“You shouldn’t feel bad, it wasn’t your fault,” Arthur said.

Merlin wrinkled his brow in confusion, did Arthur know what had really happened? Had he been conscious after all? He managed to gulp out a query. “What?”

“That Morgause took Morgana right in front of you,” Arthur explained simply, “you shouldn’t feel bad about it.”

Merlin frowned, leave it to destiny to make him look cowardly as well as inept. “It wasn’t like that,” he tried to defend himself though he didn’t know what he could say.

“I know,” Arthur dismissed but he wasn’t entirely convincing. “She’s a powerful sorceress and a reasonable swordswoman and you’re rubbish.”

“Reasonable?” Merlin cut in raising his brows, she’d bested Arthur and the prince knew it.

Arthur ignored him and continued, “I’m just saying it’s not your fault.”

Merlin pursed his lips together. Arthur’s sense of things was never quite correct. Somehow, he’d guessed at Merlin’s feelings of guilt and regret but he’d misinterpreted the reasons. Merlin’s intuition however was a little more attuned. “It’s not your fault either. You weren’t even awake.”

Arthur didn’t respond and Merlin’s guilt increased. Arthur didn’t believe it, he would hold himself accountable for Morgana’s disappearance.

The only comfort Merlin had was that it could be worse. Morgana could be dead – he could have murdered her.  On reflection, there was no comfort. What was he becoming? A liar, a near murderer . . . a monster?

Gaius had told him not to think of himself that way but would Gaius change his mind when he heard about Merlin’s decision to poison Morgana? For the first time Merlin truly feared what the physician would think of his actions. He had not been given a chance to speak to Gaius before they’d left and Gaius would be worrying over Morgana’s kidnapping needlessly, unaware that she had departed of her own volition. Merlin wondered what Gaius would make of the other strange set of circumstances he’d endured. The future version of himself and whether Gaius would approve of giving Morgana over to Morgause. Merlin didn’t think he would. Gaius had been determined to keep Morgana from knowing of her abilities but sending her away was surely better than murdering her.

Merlin could barely stomach himself when he thought of it. He had so quickly condemned her, believing her culpable without evidence or doubt. He had to be wiser than that, better than that for the sake of Arthur’s legacy but such intentions were no guarantee that Gaius would forgive him. 

The castle came into view, Merlin thought it had never seemed so ominous. The group slowed, each of them hesitant to face their collective failure, all except Arthur who stoically maintained his pace forcing the rest to follow him. Merlin was compelled to do the same.

Before long Merlin found himself in the armoury, listening to Arthur’s instructions about gear to clean and prepare for tomorrow, provisions to ask for and ensure they were ready. “Don’t bother with the fire in my chambers,” Arthur continued, “I won’t be needing it. I’ll be heading straight to bed after I speak to my father.” His tone was firm.

Merlin did not get a chance to reply as Arthur determinedly set out. Merlin stared forlornly at the closed door before returning his eyes to the armour before him. The armour could wait, he would return to his job once he spoke to Gaius. As much as he dreaded all he had to tell it was unfair to let his mentor worry unnecessarily about Morgana.  

“Uhh Merlin, can you hear me?” a familiar voice entered Merlin’s head.

“Yes, are you still in the castle?” Merlin at once understood that his future self had been the sender.

“Yes, unfortunately, that’s kind of my problem.”

Merlin sagged, somehow, he suspected this was going to be his problem as well.

“I need your help.”

Yes, definitely his problem. “With what?”

“I need to get out of the castle without being seen and without speaking to anyone.”

“Is that all?” Merlin responded sarcastically.

His counterpart seemed unbothered by it. “It’s kind of urgent.”

“Isn’t it always.”

“Not sure I should answer that.”

The tone of his voice already suggested the answer. “Right. Where are you?”

“Still behind the tapestry.”

“Be right there.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Merlin found his other self right where he expected. “I thought you’d be gone by now, aren’t you going to return to your own time?” The last thing he needed right now was to have to make up more lies about why there were suddenly two of him – sorcery would be a very logical accusation.

The other Merlin, whom it appeared had kept the youthful version of himself paused a moment before answering.
“Something like that but the spell doesn’t seem to have quite gone the way we hoped.”

“We?”

The other Merlin winced, apparently unhappy that he’d revealed it. “Uh, I came with someone.”

“Arthur?” Merlin said hopefully. It would be nice to know for certain that Arthur had accepted magic.

“No, and I’m not saying who.”

Merlin must have looked put out because his other self continued. “I’m not trying to be rude it’s just the spell is particular about what I can and can’t say and if I say the wrong thing this whole day, this whole change of events will be undone.”

Merlin widened his eyes at this news. “So, what’s the plan?”

“I don’t have one. I just need to get outside Camelot without being seen.”

Merlin puzzled a little over this, it was already nightfall, before long most of the castle would be asleep and while the guards were probably on alert due to recent events, he’d never had too much difficulty dealing with them. He’d snuck out of Camelot several times; he was quite adept at it. If he ran into trouble a little sound diversion was usually all he needed to throw someone in the opposite direction.

“You can’t get yourself out?”

“I told you I can’t be seen, not at all.”

“But –.”

“I have hardly any magic strength right now,” future Merlin confessed.

That worried Merlin, he’d never felt experienced magic loss.

“It’s a result of the spell . . .” the other Merlin grimaced, “got to tell the truth. Not just the spell but being separated from the other person I came with and it’s why it’s urgent.”

“And if you are seen by somebody?”

“The spell will reverse.”

It seemed changing the past was complicated. “Right. I’ll do my best.”

Merlin checked the corridor outside the servants’ quarters, so far so good. He didn’t need to gesture to the other Merlin as they continued to communicate telepathically.

It shouldn’t be difficult to get him out of the castle.

Merlin walked ahead continuing to ensure the way was safe speaking magically. They had one moment where a guard had passed Merlin and old Merlin had been forced to quickly hide in an alcove.

Merlin had heard the other sorcerer’s breath quicken in fear but Merlin himself felt it was an overreaction. Had his older self forgotten how focused the guards were on their tasks? They were not looking in shadows inside the castle, not unless the warning bells were ringing or a search was in place.

Had he gotten soft? Which reminded him. “How old are you anyway? You were old when I first saw you.”

“Part of the not telling you bit,” the other sorcerer responded.

Merlin noted that the response was something Gaius would say. There were certain things about this future Merlin that made him seem old. The whole thing was unsettling.

“Can you just get me out of here,” the other Merlin said irritatedly.

“I can do two things at onc-,” Merlin was in the midst of dismissing the concern when he slipped on the stairs. For a moment he thought he was going to crack his head but a force held him and righted him. He glanced back to see the other Merlin’s eyes glow.

“Thanks,” he said sheepishly.

The other sorcerer was shrugging it off but he suddenly gripped the railing and sunk to sit on the step. “Ugh, weak,” future Merlin breathed hard.

“Sorry,” Merlin realised he was to blame, the other sorcerer had warned him he had little magic left.

“Merlin!” a second voice echoed in present Merlin’s mind. It sounded faint, distressed and female.

The other Merlin hurriedly answered. “Sorry, be there soon. I’m with him, don’t speak. I think he can hear you.”

Merlin realised his face must have registered surprise and decided to be open about it. “Who is that?”

“No one,” old Merlin stated firmly.

“Fine,” Merlin rolled his eyes, “I never realised how stubborn I was.”

“Irritating too,” the other Merlin grumbled as he pulled himself to his feet. “Arthur might have a point.”

They both looked at each for a moment, “nope.” They collectively agreed.

Merlin however made an effort to pay more attention to his surroundings, finally, they exited the castle, crossed the square and began to wind their way through the lower town. They were almost clear. “See,” he said silently to his other self, “nothing to worry about.” He shot the other Merlin a smug smile taking his eyes for a moment from the path ahead but the other Merlin opened his eyes wide in horror. Merlin snapped his gaze back toward the front and saw Gwen, gripping a shawl to herself and lifting her head in their direction. Her gaze fell on them, the full moon illuminated everything and then plunged into darkness suddenly as a cloud covered it. “Hide!” he urged his counterpart.

“Where?” the other Merlin shot back but Merlin didn’t have time to look, the cloud was already moving.

“Merlin?” Gwen questioned. “Who are you with?”

“With?” Merlin said turning and finding that his other self didn’t seem to be in sight. “No one.”

“I saw someone, two of you,” she insisted, “well not two of you, you, but two people, you know what I mean?”

Merlin opened his eyes wide in an attempt at innocence, shrugged and shook his head. “It’s just me. Let me walk you home.” He took her arm pulling her along in case his companion was not well hidden.

Gwen looked back over her shoulder, “I could have sworn I saw someone else.”

“Shadows,” Merlin said.

“I suppose.” She relented. “What are you doing down here anyway Merlin?”

“I um,” he thought hard, “came to see how you were doing. About Morgana.”

“Oh, that’s very kind of you,” Gwen said genuinely. “I don’t know what I shall do if something happens to her.”

Merlin wanted to offer reassurance as he’d wanted to do with Arthur but found himself in the same situation of being unable to. It might be years before Morgana was able to return to Camelot and he suddenly realised that left Gwen without a job. “I’m sure Arthur will find a place for you in the castle.”

Gwen looked sharply at Merlin appalled. “That’s not what I meant Merlin. I mean I hadn’t even thought about my position.” She paused taking that thought in, “I’m concerned about what Morgause might do to Morgana.”

Merlin wondered if he could possibly put her mind at rest without revealing too much. “I don’t think Morgause intends to harm Morgana, it’s probably something to do with Uther. Besides Morgana is strong,” he said.

“Yes,” Gwen agreed softly, “she is . . . sometimes but Merlin,” Gwen leaned forward and lowered her voice, “She’s vulnerable too. I noticed that when Morgause was here last Morgana seemed to . . .” Gwen trailed as she searched for the words, “feel connected to her somehow. Kind of like she did with the druid boy, you remember?”

“Yes,” Merlin said solemnly remembering the words of the dragon.

“Sometimes I get the feeling that Morgana . . .” Gwen hesitated.

“Yes?” Merlin prompted. Was Gwen aware of Morgana’s magic?

“I shouldn’t say,” Gwen bit her lip.

Merlin waited her out, he’d found that if he left Gwen to her thoughts she often expressed them anyway.

Gwen finally continued “but It’s like Morgana’s searching for something Merlin and I’m worried she’ll find it in the wrong place.”

Merlin took Gwen’s words in worriedly. He hoped he hadn’t done something terrible by sending Morgana off with Morgause but he’d done so under the direction of his future self. Surely if you could trust anyone it was your future self.

“I wish I could tell you something Gwen,” Merlin said lamely.

They stood in silence for a moment.

“I’m sure I’m worrying needlessly,” Gwen said with a half smile, “Arthur will set out again tomorrow. He’ll find her and bring her back.”

Merlin said nothing.

“You do believe that don’t you Merlin?”

“Sure, absolutely,” he lied.

“I appreciate you coming down here. Well, goodnight Merlin.”

“Goodnight Gwen.”

Merlin waited until she had closed the door before he communicated with his other self. “Where are you?”

“I took the opportunity to keep going. I’m by the lower gate. I should be fine from here.”

“Oh,” Merlin responded simply. “Good luck then.”

“Good luck to you, I probably won’t see you again. Remember what I said, keep Morgana on Arthur’s side.”

“I’ll do my best, only are you sure that Morgana should have gone with Morgause?”

There was a slight pause before the response, “absolutely.”

Merlin winced as his tone echoed over bright – a sure sign his counterpart meant the exact opposite.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Merlin finally found himself standing in front of the physician’s quarters. He took a deep breath and gingerly pushed open the door. Gaius looked up, he was sitting at the table with a cup of something warm in his hand.

“Merlin!” Gaius took to his feet. “Tell me everything, what happened? Was it you that defeated the spell? How did Morgause come to take Morgana? Uther said she spoke to you, what did she say?” Gaius ran his eyes over the young sorcerer and added “and are you alright?”

Merlin answered the last question first. “I don’t know Gaius. It’s been a very strange day. Things aren’t what they seem at all. I’ve got a lot to tell you. I don’t think you’re going to like a lot of it.” Merlin walked with Gaius toward their table and sat down. “You should know first that Morgana’s probably not in any danger, at least she’s better off than she would be no thanks to me.”

Gaius frowned slightly, “I’ll fetch your supper. Then you can tell me what you mean by that cryptic statement.”

Gaius listened patiently while Merlin went through the events of the day. The physician was very quiet at the end of it all.

Merlin couldn’t take the silence. “You do think I’m a monster.”

“No Merlin, I don’t,” Gaius said firmly. “Given the circumstances, given what you knew at the time you were doing the only thing you could to protect the kingdom. That is not the act of a monster but I was thinking the fact that some version of yourself came back to change events is astounding. I’ve never heard of a time spell. I can’t imagine it would be easy. That would take incredible amounts of magic. I think you need to be very careful to heed his words.”

“I think so too.”

“You’ve done well Merlin,” Gaius patted his back. “I know it won’t be easy in the following days with Arthur and Uther but it’s for the best.”

“So you think Morgana going with Morgause is all right?”

“I can’t say it would have been my first choice but perhaps it is for the best that Morgana is not under Uther’s roof when her magic is increasing and volatile.”

Merlin nodded and recalled something more of today. “There’s something I have to do.” He stood up. A promise was a promise after all.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The warning bells sounded, they echoed out across the castle, the town, and even so far as to be heard in the darkling woods.

Morgana la Faye and Merlin who had seen a thousand years heard them in their little hollowed out cavern. They had regained their strength as soon as they had been reunited and taken refuge in the old remembered spot. They looked at each other as soon as the chimes sounded. Morgana could practically read the guilt on Merlin’s anguished face. She looked on in concern and pity. “We knew this would happen,” she said softly, “we knew certain events would still come to pass.”

“Of course I did,” he snapped, “but I didn’t think I’d be here to witness it again. I thought I’d be blipped out of existence or returned to the present. That’s what you said would happen.”

Morgana understood that he was lashing out due to his guilt. “It should have,” Morgana insisted but it hadn’t. She didn’t know for certain why, they had only guessed that perhaps things hadn’t changed enough or worse that things were still prone to turning out the same as they had despite their interference. It seemed rather redundant though that the spell kept them hanging around when they could no longer change things. “I’m sorry Merlin.”

Her sympathy seemed to mollify his anger but it didn’t change the pain she saw in his eyes.

“I can’t let him die again Morgana, he’s my father. He deserved to be happy. He deserved to be with my mother again.”

“Yes,” Morgana said sadly, “he did but it can’t happen Merlin.”

“I can’t sit idly by,” Merlin argued.

Morgana paused a moment, “I know.”

“Will you help me?” he stared at her.

She knew it wouldn’t matter what her answer was, Merlin would not be deterred. “Yes,” she replied. In truth she’d already know what she’d have to do, she raised her arm quickly and projected her words forcefully. “Swefe nu!”

Merlin’s body slumped forward, asleep. She knew it was not what he meant by help. He would be angry later, if they were still around, but let him be angry rather than have everything fall apart. They had to keep their eye on the big picture, the picture he’d wanted even more than she and he would see that when the moment passed.

Morgana moved Merlin into a more comfortable position and put a blanket around him. Still, forcing him to sleep was a temporary solution, she hoped it would be long enough for things to work out here in the past. He would be unlikely to fall for any more interventions and would be more on his guard next time. It made Morgana worried about what they would they do if it took months or years for the spell to complete itself. How would they keep themselves hidden from everyone and also stop themselves from interfering and undoing everything? Must they suffer all the past again? Why had their changes not come to fruition already? What or more likely who could possibly be standing in the way of change?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Merlin had walked with Arthur through the square triumphant over the dragon. Gaius and Gwen met them and celebrated briefly before their tasks had taken them in respective quarters to reassure Uther and the kingdom that the threat had passed.

Finally, Merlin found himself sitting in Gaius’s chambers, moving a spoon idly around an empty bowl while Gaius prepared healing potions for the continued treatment of Kilgharrah’s victims. There were a lot of thoughts in Merlin’s head now that the initial elation of saving Camelot had worn off. “What sort of person am I Gaius?” He suddenly burst out, “what sort of man lets people die? Let’s his own father die?”

Gaius stopped grinding, pestle in hand. He looked pityingly at Merlin. “You couldn’t have known what the great dragon would do and when it comes to Balinor it sounds like there was nothing you could do Merlin.”

“No,” Merlin shook his head. “The future me could have done something. He had to know this would happen. He saved Morgana but he told me nothing of the dragon, nothing of the innocent people that would die, nothing of Balinor. Nothing!

Gaius stared seriously at the young man as he gave it some thought. “Merlin, imagine yourself in his place for a moment. Would you go back and save your father?”

“Of course.”

“Or would you go back further in the past and stop him from leaving your mother? ”

“I, uh don’t know I hadn’t thought about it.”

Gaius began to pour his ingredients into a bottle. “Well think about it now. Suppose you did, you’d never have come to Camelot.”

“I guess not,” Merlin began to see where Gaius was going with this, “but that’s different. Saving Balinor a few days ago wouldn’t have changed anything about my destiny with Arthur.”

“Wouldn’t it?” Gaius said sharply. “You’re a dragonlord now. Who knows what the future will be.”

“And I’ve sent the dragon away,” Merlin said petulantly. “Balinor could have done that. He could have returned to my mother, lived a quiet life in Ealdor and things would go on the same here.”

“You think that would be the end of it? What about Uther?”

Merlin bristled tears in his eyes, “Uther would thank him, like he should.”

Gaius was gentle as he spoke, “Uther might be grateful, grateful enough to let him be and then again, he might not. The king can be . . . capricious, you know this. My point is we don’t know what this other version of you has seen but he does. You told me that he said certain things about what could be said and done and so I have to believe if he is you, then he is the sort of man to have given this careful thought and to do what had to be done. I know this is difficult for you and so I think it must have been difficult for him too.”

Merlin looked away. “Maybe,” he muttered reluctantly. Gaius was making a lot of sense but Merlin did not want to feel reasonable. “I just don’t know if I can trust anything else he has told me.”

Gaius gave a thoughtful frown. “You mean about Morgana?”

Merlin nodded glumly. Even among the death and destruction that Kilgharrah had caused Merlin had been unable to shake the disquieting feeling of her absence. Sending her with Morgause bothered him deeply and he hadn’t yet pinpointed why.

“Certainly you don’t want her to be Arthur’s or Camelot’s enemy?”

“Of course not but was sending her with Morgause the right thing to do? I mean she’s a high priestess like Nimue.”

“Nimue had her own axe to grind Merlin. Our dealings with Morgause have been quite different.”

“Yes, but can she be trusted? She already tried to sow discontent between Uther and Arthur and we don’t know what she intended to do with that sleeping spell. The other me said she’d been convinced to forego it.”

“I think the real question is not whether we trust Morgause but whether we trust Morgana.” Gaius perhaps meant it as comfort and Merlin tried not to allow his discomfort to show.

“In any case,” Gaius continued, “we don’t have a time spell, we can only take one day at a time and if you don’t get some rest you’ll have difficulty even doing that. Camelot is safe thanks to you and that is enough for today. Let the future be. Get to bed, I’ll clean up here.”

Merlin nodded his head and went to his room. He went through the routine of removing his day clothes, fluffing the pillow and lying down but he knew he would not find sleep easily. Gaius had unintentionally given Merlin something else to ponder when he’d stated the real question is do we trust Morgana?

Merlin could not help but realise that the real question was really why he didn’t trust her. Because shockingly he realised he didn’t. He remembered that Gwen had a similar concern, worrying that Morgana would find whatever it was she was searching for in the wrong place. 

Merlin realised Gwen had seen something in Morgana he’d been ignoring or at least hoping wasn’t a problem. Gwen may not have understood what it was Morgana was searching for but Merlin did. Morgana had been searching for some way to understand her magic. He’d been naïve to think that a momentary contact with the druids would be enough. She needed more continued guidance and if he were honest, he’d started to acknowledge it when Morgana had so easily thrown her lot in with Mordred and Alvarr over the Crystal of Neahtid.  - only he’d been upset with her for it, for turning to others. He frowned hard at this revelation. Yes, he’d been angry with her over it as if she owed him some allegiance. Which was ridiculous because he’d given her no reason to think he could help her.

The images in the crystal of Neahtid had disturbed him so much that he’d not really had time to revisit his feelings over Morgana’s alliance with the child Kilgharrah said was destined to kill Arthur, or his disappointment in her for supporting, so ardently, Alvarr, a man whose intentions were clearly uncaring of innocents. Merlin was startled by the intensity of the emotions such thoughts evoked.

Was that why he’d been so willing to condemn Morgana over the sleeping spell? Was that where this distrust came from? Was it really just disappointment or some sort of strange jealousy? He felt disgusted with himself. Morgana could not be blamed for turning to others when he had offered her so little help, not forgetting that she had no idea that his help was even possible. Nor should she be blamed for a prophecy that hadn’t yet come to pass or actions she hadn’t done. It was unreasonable and yet, he had blamed her perhaps because it was easier than facing his helplessness. He sighed.

But none of that explained his unease at Morgana’s departure, the weird feeling that floated about in his heart that something was amiss. That was something he was yet to identify, some instinct, some concern, some intangible knowledge.

Merlin moved restlessly in his bed and closed his eyes. It would come to him eventually.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter Text

The bandits had come from everywhere, clearly lying in wait for the knights of Camelot.

Merlin sprung from his horse, keeping his eyes on Arthur as much as he could whilst keeping a lookout for his own safety. It was a skill he had plenty of chance to develop over the last year during their continuous search for Morgana. Bandit attacks within Camelot's land had increased, incursions by Cendred's army were occurring frequently in villages on the borders and all because Uther refused to see the madness of sending out so many patrols day after day searching for his lost ward instead of ensuring the security of Camelot.

Merlin often wondered if his future self had anticipated this outcome when he'd urged Merlin to send Morgana away. Merlin certainly hadn't anticipated it. He'd expected Uther to give up after a few weeks, accept Morgana's loss or at least move on enough until more word of her came but Uther had not. Merlin was acutely aware of the irony that in helping Morgana leave he'd inadvertently caused Uther to weaken Camelot – the kingdom Merlin was supposed to be protecting for Arthur's sake. He could only hope Uther would come to his senses soon before things got worse.

The bandits that fell upon them now were more examples of the urgency. They were many.

Having dodged a man with an axe and a felled tree Merlin now rolled over to find Arthur engaged in a sword fight, unaware of a second man approaching him from the back. Merlin glanced about, located an abandoned spear and with a glow of his eyes sent it hurtling into the man.

Merlin felt a moments sadness. It was such a waste of life, knights, bandits, villagers all dying over the missing Morgana who was not missing at all. Merlin would really like to get a hold of his other self at times like these and shake him or at least question him. Was this really better than whatever it was that had played out in the alternate timeline? But of course, Merlin's next thoughts were that the future warlock had saved him from murdering the practically innocent Morgana. Merlin could not, would not discount that action. Still, he wondered at the arrogance his future self had demonstrated because if Morgana had died from being poisoned then surely none of this searching for her and weakening of the Kingdom would have occurred. The future would have to be vastly different without any way of his future self predicting it any more than he, himself could. It made Merlin very nervous to consider that the prophecy of Albion might be derailed because of those actions.

Arthur finished dispatching his opponent and turned slowly before focusing solely on Merlin lying on the forest floor. He failed entirely to notice the enemy that had fallen dead behind him, let alone to wonder who had done it. "We're not playing hide and seek, Merlin!" Arthur forged past him to check on his other knights.

Merlin lay there a moment and refrained from doing something as obvious as rolling his eyes but he did mutter dollop head to himself after the prince had passed by.

Getting to his feet Merlin grimly took in the after-battle carnage but almost immediately he, Arthur and the group of surviving knights heard a twig snap. Everyone was on alert as a shadow appeared in the fog.

Merlin tensed. More bandits? Perhaps a second wave? But no, there was something familiar about the shape and the person appeared to be stumbling. Merlin held his breath as the person moved closer, there was some instinct, some knowledge of who it was that came to him a moment before her face was revealed but he could do nothing but stare.

"Morgana," Arthur expressed in shock.

"Ar. . . Arthur?" Morgana stammered, "you've found me at last." She gave a weak smile, seemingly of relief. Her eyes cast about landing at last on Merlin, the smile fell away, her eyes rolled and she slunk to the ground unconscious.

"Quick, fetch my horse," Arthur ordered the nearest knight. "Merlin, help me with her."

Merlin was still standing still, stunned by the weakened and dirty appearance of the lady Morgana, puzzled as to what it all could possibly mean. Where was Morgause? Why was Morgana with bandits? What was she doing back in Camelot's lands?

"Merlin!" Arthur snapped, "don't just stand there we need to get her back to Gaius and my father and there could be more bandits around.

Merlin shook off his stupor and jumped into action.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Merlin stopped pacing and biting his fingers as Gaius finally returned to the physician's chambers. "Did you talk to her? How is she?"

Gaius put down his bag. "She's sleeping."

"Did she say anything about me?" Merlin asked anxiously.

"No," Gaius answered simply.

"About Morgause?" Merlin persisted.

"No Merlin and I'd be concerned if she did. Morgana has no reason to think you've confided in me about what happened and I think it's better if we keep it that way. It's bad enough she believes you worked with sorcerers to help her escape." Gaius shook his head. "She doesn't know your secret, does she Merlin? Does she know you have magic?" Gaius searched Merlin's face sternly.

"No," Merlin shook his head. "I don't think so."

"You don't think so?"

"I haven't told her. I haven't told anyone."

"Well make sure you don't. If she finds out it will only increase the risk to the two of you."

Merlin nodded, "but what about Morgause? Why wasn't Morgana still with her? Why was she with bandits?"

"Merlin!" Gaius reprimanded exasperatedly, "I don't know any more than you do. You'll have to wait and see whether Morgana will tell you."

Merlin nodded. There was little else he could do but wait until the morrow.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Merlin," Gaius' voice broke into Merlin's sleep.

Merlin blinked hard until both eyes came into focus. "What is it?"

"I've just seen Morgana."

Merlin sat upright. "And?"

"She's improved but I told her I'd like her to keep taking a strength tonic for a few more days. She kindly suggested that I send you up with it to save myself the trouble. I rather suspect it was a ploy to speak with you privately. Arthur was with her when I left."

Merlin took to his feet. At last, maybe some answers.

He didn't bother with breakfast but he did for some reason find himself fussing with his hair and clothing. He was heading out when Gaius called him back to give him the tonic that he was supposed to be delivering. At the threshold Merlin halted as Gaius called out again.

"And Merlin," Gaius cautioned, "remember what I said last night."

Merlin paused, remembering Gaius' concerns about revealing his magic to Morgana. He nodded his acknowledgement.

Merlin took a deep breath as he headed towards Morgana's chambers and needed a few more by the time he'd climbed the stairs. Once at the door, he could see that Arthur was still with her and hear her that she was talking about the bandits. His future self had assured him that Morgana would be safe with Morgause but this seemed to be yet another proof that his counterpart was wrong or that he wasn't to be trusted at all.

Arthur rose and was passing Merlin as Morgana called out. "Merlin, you have Gaius' tonic?"

"Yes my lady," he said.

"Would you put it on that table and could you remind me how much and how often."

Merlin followed the directions, wondering if Gaius had been correct in his suspicion. Was this a ruse to allow them time to speak about what had happened or wasn't it? Morgana had been entirely formal, no hint of subterfuge but it didn't matter because Merlin had made up his mind to speak candidly . . . well as candidly as he could without revealing his magic.

As he placed the tonic his ears strained for sounds beyond, Arthur's footsteps seemed to be receding and after one final reposition of the strength tonic, Merlin glanced at the door to be sure. Arthur appeared to have gone.

Merlin had intended to get straight to it and ask Morgana as quickly and directly the many questions he'd been pondering but as he turned his head, he found his gaze locked with the dark-haired maiden and a strange thing happened; he found himself unable to find the words to begin.

Her mouth parted as if she were going to say something then closed. Neither of them seemed able to break the silence as they remained staring at one another. Merlin took in her appearance, she was pale but otherwise little changed. She seemed to be considering something.

"It's good to see you, Merlin," Morgana finally broke the silence and her eyes suddenly seemed to be brimming with tears. "Good to see all of Camelot," she added with a weak smile.

Merlin knew that she'd previously felt smothered by Camelot or by Uther at least and he concluded that she must have been through something awful to feel differently. It would explain her sudden tears.

"It was difficult to hear what happened with the dragon," she whispered, her voice took on a slight eldritch tone. "I dreamt about it you know – before it happened. I saw images, faces I did not know. You and Arthur and then when I heard it was actually happening . . . well I wanted to come back but Morgause told me bluntly there was nothing I could do. She was right but I was glad when I heard all was well again."

Merlin was disturbed to hear Morgana still dreamt of the future, the visions he'd had in the crystal of the same event had been more than enough experience to know how awful it was to see such terrible things and feel so powerless and worse still when those things happened anyway. He was also a bit alarmed to know that she'd seen visions of him and Arthur. He wondered what exactly her visions had shown her, were they the same as what he had seen? Had she any inkling of what had really happened? Of his powers? Of Balinor? He could not exactly ask her without provoking her curiosity but surely she would mention it if she knew. Besides, there were other things he wanted to know that he could ask about. He found his voice at last. "You mention Morgause but how was it you were found with bandits?" Merlin found his voice becoming gentle and drawing nearer to her as he took in her drawn appearance. Thoughts of her in the clutches of the bandits horrified him. What had she been through?

"Oh, it's not so terrible as you think," Morgana pushed a stray tear away, "it was my idea to be taken by them."

"What?" Merlin said stunned.

Morgana gave a self-deprecating shrug. "I had to get back to Camelot somehow and I couldn't exactly stroll into the throne room after all this time."

"But why? Why come back at all?" He asked. He had thought she would stay away until Uther was no longer king. She had to know it was not safe.

Merlin noticed her take in a small breath before her face became set. "Because I couldn't stand by while Uther sent so many men to die looking for me! Rumours are spreading that he's losing his mind and Camelot is looking weak. For Arthur's sake, for the people's sake, I returned."

That made sense but Merlin wondered why she was suddenly angry. He knew that she often felt provoked by Uther but this seemed aimed at him. What had he said? He'd only asked her why she'd come back. She was looking away from him now, seeming to draw back. Could it be that she was hurt? Merlin supposed his words could be misinterpreted, they could be taken to imply she was not welcome back in Camelot and he knew that was something Morgana was sensitive about. He hurried to clarify his position. "I just meant, isn't it too dangerous for you to be here?"

Morgana remained stiff but her eyes seemed to soften, she shook her head. "Not overly. Less than before. I have been with Morgause the past year . . ." she trailed, suddenly hesitant. "I can trust you Merlin, can't I? I know you've helped me in the past before, more than once but I don't want to put you in a position in telling you things if you would rather I didn't."

Merlin could see the caution in her face. He was glad of it, she needed to be careful but he also related to the uncertainty, he rushed to reassure her. "You can trust me Morgana."

"You still think magic can be a force for good?" She asked, "You said that once you know, I never forgot."

He smiled, remembering. "I still think that," he said earnestly.

Some of the worry went out of her face. She leaned forward in the bed and lowered her voice. Merlin sat at the foot of the bed and listened.

"Morgause taught me how to control my magic. I have no need to fear exposing myself unintentionally. And you were right Merlin, it can be a force for good. I always thought, feared, that it would corrupt me but it's not like that. I can't tell you what a relief it is Merlin to have control or the exhilaration," she smiled broadly, "to be able to do something with this feeling, this instinct that I'd repressed for so long."

Merlin returned her smile, "like suddenly being able to run after a long illness or bursting into song on a summer's day." That's how he felt when he had an opportunity to just be free to do things with magic.

Morgana looked surprised, "that's it exactly. How did you know Merlin?"

Merlin scratched at his head awkwardly, "just that's what I imagine it would be like."

She nodded slowly, her gaze appraising him. Merlin hurried to direct her attention elsewhere, "and the bandits. Were they in on it?" Merlin was appalled as he remembered the ambush of the patrol and the killing that had occurred. Had Morgana considered their deaths at all?

"No," Morgana said softly, "the bandits weren't in on it. I allowed myself to be taken a week ago. Morgause and I learnt where the bandits had camped. Once I was captured Morgause intended to lead a Camelot patrol to my position. We thought they'd overthrow them easily. Unfortunately, it didn't go as planned."

"Morgause went along with this? She let you get captured by bandits?" Merlin was angry, it seemed Morgause was not to be trusted after all.

"Morgause would never let anything happen to me Merlin," Morgana informed him firmly, "besides I'm quite capable of looking after myself. I was the one who had to convince her it was the best way for me to return. I just wish it hadn't come at such a price. . . that first patrol," Morgana dropped her voice. "It was just terrible. Morgause did what she could to limit the deaths and she was willing to come get me but it was too dangerous even for her. She's very powerful." Morgana seemed proud. "But we had underestimated the bandits, it wasn't until the second patrol with you and Arthur that they were overcome."

Merlin felt only slightly mollified. The patrols and the bandits had many such scuffles Morgana's presence had likely not altered that but Merlin now found another horrible thought stealing into his head. His mouth was dry, he wasn't sure he wanted to ask but the question couldn't remain unsaid. "Did they mistreat you?"

She shook her head, "only so much in the lack of food and too much work. You understand they had no idea who I was. Morgause had given me a charm that altered my appearance drastically. I told them I was a servant in Camelot, a run away. They were suspicious of course but they were more focused on their bounty and other matters and rather too glad to have someone to order about."

Merlin gritted his teeth. He could well imagine how such louts would treat a prisoner servant.

Morgana bit her lip. "I'm afraid I've had to lie to Arthur about it," she confessed. "I told him I escaped Morgause within days only to end up captured by bandits and," her tone became sorrowful, "I'm likely to have to keep lying about certain things. You don't think badly of me for that do you, Merlin?"

"No, milady." He understood perfectly.

She didn't seem quite convinced that he meant it. "I suppose I wanted to tell you the truth, after what you've done for me." She shrugged and her eyes darted from him and back again as if avoiding some revelation. "I had to confide in someone."

Merlin smiled warmly, "I'm glad it was me."

Her smile widened, dazzling eyes rested on his and he felt suddenly unnerved though he didn't know why. He took to his feet. "I better go."

"Of course," she said sedately, "thank you, Merlin."

He went to the door, stopped just short of it and engaging her eyes once more felt urged to speak. "It's good to have you back." The smile that returned to her face satisfied him that all was well. This was turning into a great day and he was certain that her return boded well for Camelot.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Morgana shifted slightly in her bed, watching as Gwen moved about the room.

"Is this the tonic Gaius wanted you to take?" Gwen asked.

"Yes it is," Morgana answered, "Merlin brought it up for him." Morgana didn't know why she'd told Gwen that.

"That was kind of him," Gwen said conversationally fussing with flowers in a vase next to it.

"Yes," Morgana agreed. Merlin was kind, she'd remembered the concern in his voice when he asked her about the bandits. The gentle look in his eyes. It only reinforced that her feelings for him had not changed with time. It was ridiculous of course, a lady of the court becoming deeply enamoured with a servant but she had, she still was. His parting remark came back to her. He was glad to have her back. She felt the blood rushing to her cheeks again as it had the first time.

Gwen glanced over at her and a worried expression came over her. "You look flushed Morgana," Gwen said coming to her side. "Are you hot? Do you need water? Have you a fever? Should I fetch Gaius?" Gwen placed a hand on her forehead and scrutinised Morgana's face.

Morgana batted her maid's hand away gently with a small laugh. "I'm fine Gwen, I don't have a fever, it's just . . ." Morgana decided to mix some truth in with her lie. "To tell the truth, I was remembering Merlin caught me rather off guard coming with the tonic so early. I was embarrassed to still be in my nightgown."

"Oh," Gwen gave a disapproving frown that Morgana assumed was aimed at Merlin.

"It was silly of me," Morgana added, "Merlin was completely oblivious of course."

"Of course," agreed Gwen with a rather knowing smile.

Morgana repressed a frown. That's right Gwen would know something about that, she'd had a thing for Merlin in the past. Had that been rekindled?

Gwen moved to straighten the sheets. "Merlin should have knocked. I know Arthur complains about him forgetting."

Gwen looked suddenly as if she'd said too much.

Morgana wondered why. Perhaps Merlin had confided in her about Arthur's habits and complaints. Maybe they had grown closer in the past year. Morgana suddenly felt the urge to probe the matter. "It must have been difficult this last year Gwen. Were you able to find work in the castle after my disappearance?"

"Yes," Gwen said simply, "I kept your quarters in order of course and I had some general duties and I did seamstress work. I was very fortunate."

"You're not fortunate Gwen, you're hard working and diligent," Morgana said sincerely.

"Well I had help," Gwen deflected but her voice broke off at the end.

Morgana waited.

"From Arthur and Merlin of course."

"I see," Morgana said. She had heard the hitch in Gwen's voice, the hesitation, Gwen seemed to be embarrassed about the assistance given to her. Morgana didn't know what to conclude from that. If Gwen and Merlin had gotten close it was nothing to be secretive about . . . unless Gwen was aware that Morgana had feelings for Merlin. There was no way she could, was there?

"It wasn't the same without you here," Gwen said unaffectedly.

Morgana smiled back thinly. She wondered if Gwen would feel still feel so warmly towards her if she knew how she felt about Merlin. Or if Gwen learnt where she'd really been for the last year and what she'd been doing. . . not to mention what she was about to do.

Morgana looked away from Gwen, she couldn't help but acknowledge that Gwen's loyalty was unknown to her – Gwen was ever dutiful to her mistress but was that because she was paid or was it out of genuine friendship? Morgana found she did not want to ponder it too deeply right now.

It was not the time in any case, she had to put aside her personal thoughts of Gwen and Merlin and things that might be and things that could never be and focus instead on what was to come, on the plan she must put into action. Her future hinged on it. "I must dress Gwen. I must meet with the king."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Morgana smiled to herself as she left the king's presence and folded the damp handkerchief carefully. The tears of Uther Pendragon were a precious commodity. She knew her performance had been perfect and that what she was doing could only be of benefit to her kind. It helped her to continue smiling benignly as she passed by the guards, inwardly remembering how they'd once thrown her in the dungeon at Uther's bequest. She could not forget that their loyalty was to Uther and Uther alone. Chivalry was forgotten in the blink of an eye when you were considered the kings enemy. Morgana had always known she was safe only as long as she remained Uther's beloved ward and that was why this plan was so perfect. She would be in no danger ever again. Not from Uther.

She did feel mildly troubled by Uther's warm welcome and obvious emotion at seeing her. Her heart was not cold enough to Uther as she wished. She reminded herself that he'd fooled her before and then gone straight back to his murdering, tyrannical ways. He had murdered peaceful druids, killed loyal townfolk suspected of magic and indiscriminately slaughtered friend with foe. He would murder her sister in a heartbeat.

It had not been a shock to find out Morgause was her mother's daughter from her first marriage. Morgana had always felt a connection. It was such a comfort to know she had someone out there who cared about her, whose affection did not change as Uther's fickle nature did.

Morgana reached her chambers and found Gwen chuckling to herself.

"What is it Gwen," Morgana sat down on the bed suddenly quite exhausted, "I could do with a joke or some juicy gossip."

"No, it's nothing like that. It's Merlin," Gwen had a twinkle in her eye.

"Oh," Morgana said defeatedly, it was looking more and more like the two servants' relationship had progressed and was reciprocal. Morgana realised that Gwen had probably had the opportunity to speak with Merlin while she was playing the doting ward with Uther. Gwen was likely reminiscing about some lover's joke or compliment she'd shared with Merlin.

"He was soaking wet," Gwen explained oblivious to Morgana's mood. "It seems Arthur poured a bucket of water over him."

Morgana blinked a moment at the confession and then again at the outrageousness of such an action. "Whatever for?" Morgana said puzzled as to why this was amusing.

"Something about mopping the floor. Just horseplay I imagine."

"Horseplay?" Morgana repeated dubiously. She knew Arthur well enough to know that his kind of horseplay only went one way, in his favour.

"I shouldn't laugh really," Gwen continued, "poor Merlin did look put out. It's just that he did this kind of slide on his wet feet as he attempted to stomp down the corridor."

Morgana, frankly, was shocked at Gwen's indifference to Merlin's feelings and Arthur's appalling behaviour. "It doesn't upset you?"

"What milady?" Gwen raised her brows and seemed to need clarification.

"Merlin being treated like that?" Morgana said bluntly.

"Why should it? I'm sure Arthur had his reasons, those two always have something going on."

Did they? Morgana didn't know that, perhaps this was some kind of masculine banter. "I suppose you would know," Morgana relented.

Gwen suddenly looked nervous, "what do you mean by that?" Gwen's tone was almost sharp.

Morgana bristled slightly at it and tried not to be snobbish in thinking it insolent. "I just meant that I haven't been here for the last year and I'm sure you're more aware of how things are between them."

"Oh, well, you know just from what I hear Merlin say now and again," Gwen replied, off-handedly.

Morgana fell silent, she could hardly pry further and Gwen was treating this all very lightly, so Morgana could only presume she was right to do so. Morgana watched as Gwen tidied the room, giving account of some of the court news that had reached the servants. Finally, Gwen got the idea that her mistress was tired.

Morgana lay back against the pillows forcing her thoughts to slow, she must rest because she would need her strength tonight, there were more tasks ahead of her if the plan against Uther was to succeed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Merlin shifted on his cot. He'd woken feeling as if he'd heard a distant scream but there was no terror in it and by the time he'd sat fully upright he began to wonder if he'd dreamt it. A strange scream, not human, he thought. Which was silly because it hadn't been an animal. He lay back and closed his eyes. The next few days were going to be busy. Uther had planned a feast, Arthur was determined to put the knights through more training having found them lacking during battles with the bandits. Merlin agreed there, even Arthur had gotten sloppy. He should not have been able to be snuck up on. Good thing Merlin had been there, not that Arthur knew or would ever acknowledge it.

Merlin frowned at his mood. He'd been so cheerful this morning after talking with Morgana and seeing her back safely in the kingdom. It had felt like things were looking up and then Arthur had dumped a bucket of water on his head. Normally Merlin would have shrugged it off but Arthur had thrown water at him once before . . . when Freya had been hiding in the tunnels below. The memory of her death had come stingingly back. The tragedy of Freya's life and death sat heavily with him still as did Balinor's. Sometimes it felt wrong that he should still find happiness and meaning in his life when theirs had been so tragic and he could not forget he had come close to adding Morgana to that list of tragedies. The past year had not brought many moments to smile at, even though Merlin was by nature cheerful but these dark feelings seemed to have come about with the realisation that things hadn't really changed. Arthur was still throwing buckets of water, magic was still outlawed, Freya and Balinor were still dead and Merlin was by no means certain that the next crisis he faced would not have a similarly tragic outcome for someone he loved. He'd had these thoughts before but for some reason, they felt more intense this evening. He turned on his bed, trying to shake the morose, unsettled, anguished emotions that kept sleep just beyond him.

Eventually, Merlin must have fallen asleep because he found his eyes blinking hard at the sound of Gaius calling his name from the other room.

"You're going to be late if you don't get up soon and your breakfast is getting cold."

Merlin dragged himself out of bed and pulled on his clothes.

"You must have slept soundly," Gaius noted as Merlin appeared.

"Not really," Merlin didn't want to talk about it. He stirred his porridge dispiritedly before forcing a spoonful into his mouth.

"Is everything all right?"

"Just a bad night," Merlin shrugged. "It's nothing."

Gaius thankfully let the matter drop and Merlin turned his focus towards Arthur's training. Destiny was what mattered now, he'd made that decision after Balinor's death and he was going to do everything he could to ensure Arthur succeeded and Albion came about. He finished his breakfast and walked purposefully to the armoury.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Merlin felt a certain amount of satisfaction in seeing Arthur face down in the mud after having taken a mace to the stomach . . . protected by gambeson and chainmail naturally. It was true that Arthur wouldn't be there if Merlin hadn't magically torn the sword from his grip but Merlin was not feeling the least bit guilty. Arthur had been mocking him to the knights but that had not been Merlin's sole reason for doing it – though he'd be lying if such teasing hadn't prompted the thought and that it wasn't amusing to see the prince get his comeuppance but it was more to do with the fact that Arthur just wasn't listening when it came to fighting practice. Merlin had tried to tell Arthur that he was getting careless and overconfident but Arthur was dismissive. Merlin could not forget the near miss during Morgana's rescue and he knew that Arthur had better in him, he'd seen it.

"Sire," Merlin ran over to help Arthur up and attempted to keep his amusement in check as the mud dripped from Arthur's eyebrows.

"I'm fine," Arthur said in a vain attempt to look dignified, "good work Brastius, that was a masterful stroke. I want to see more of it with the bandits next time we run into them."

"Would you like me to fetch the sword you dropped sire?" Merlin pointed out mercilessly.

"No. Merlin. I'll fetch that, you can fetch the shield for target practice."

Merlin's face fell. He didn't need to ask what target that was perfectly clear.

.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Merlin's day didn't improve much even though Arthur ended training early. Merlin quickly discovered that the mace had done serious damage to Arthur's chain mail so he'd had to carry it down to the smith for repair but not before running a bath for the muddy Arthur, then running down to launder his equally muddy clothes, then preparing Arthur's feast clothes for the evening (that were done yesterday but had been ruined by some sort of furniture grease in the wardrobe) then preparing his lunch, fetching his quill and ink that the prince had left in the great hall. Taking a message to Sir Tomed in the far east wing about tomorrow's training returning to Arthur then taking another message to Sir Tomed that Arthur had forgotten to add the first time and collecting the repaired chainmail only to have Arthur query him as to why Merlin hadn't made himself presentable for the impending feast!

Merlin had merely pursed his lips before leaving Arthur's and scuttling down to his room to do what he could in the five minutes before he was expected back.

"Merlin, what on earth?" Gaius exclaimed as he entered, "you've got mud all through your hair – that is mud isn't it?"

"Yes, mud," Merlin asserted grumpily remembering several times when it was worse things.

"Shouldn't you be dressed? Aren't you supposed to be serving Arthur at the feast?"

"When does everyone think I'm supposed to have had time to get ready? Arthur's had me running chores for him all day, I haven't had time to eat let alone bathe and dress."

"Well you haven't got time to complain about it either," Gaius pointed out, "best hurry. I'll wait."

"No Gaius," Merlin said wearily, "you go. I won't be long."

Gaius nodded and headed for the door as he reached it he paused and looked back. "You're not going to be doing anything you shouldn't be doing are you, Merlin?"

"Who me?" Merlin shrugged with a grin. "Arthur expects me to be presentable, I can't let him down."

Gaius shook his head wryly with a slight smile.

As soon as Gaius closed the door Merlin went to fetch the pitcher and basin. He pulled off his shirt and warmed the water with a quick spell. He washed his face first then poured the rest over his hair. He entered his small room and the rudimentary looking-glass revealed the rather unflattering way his hair stuck to his forehead. Merlin said a spell that provided a slight wind that ruffled his wet locks while another was uttered that brought forth a comb that moved over his head removing the last bits of dried dirt, his only other set of clothes came from the floor and laid themselves on the bed, the wrinkles removed themselves and any traces of horse manure, sweat or stains evaporated. In short order, Merlin was dressed and about as fresh as any servant had business being.

Merlin made his way to the feast and entered finding the beginnings of such an occasion. Arthur was waiting for him, other members of the court were crowding about chatting, finding their places at the table. Finally, Uther was announced, entered and greeted the crowd but did not take his place. He was naturally awaiting the arrival of the guest of honour.

Merlin fidgeted, everyone's spirits were high and that pleased him and yet his mood would not lift. Somehow among the cheer, among the crowded room, he felt lonelier than ever. He was an observer, not a participant. He was set apart because of his gifts, the secret he bore and the destiny he carried, it seemed so very heavy. His obligations would always make it so, he comprehended, he would always be an outsider even if magic were accepted.

"The lady Morgana," announced the herald.

Everyone turned expectantly, Merlin's gaze as much as the rest.

The doors opened and Morgana was revealed, a vision in white that reminded Merlin of moonlight against her midnight hair. It was the sort of contrast that suited her, that complex nature that made her vulnerable and strong at the same time. She was removed from Merlin's view as Uther stepped towards her and escorted her through the room.

Merlin discovered he was staring, smiling at the way others responded to her presence, she filled the room with warmth. Camelot had been cold without her, he realised. Uther was a different man than he had been a week ago, all genial and benevolent, Arthur looked finally free of the guilt that had plagued him this past year, Gwen was beaming. Gaius was contentedly chatting with Geoffrey. Perhaps the weight of his destiny was worth it if Albion were to be filled with moments like this. Everyone he cared about was doing well. His eyes sought Morgana again. A smile was still on her lips, her words spoke of joyful reunions and gratitude, welcome was all around her but her eyes . . . her eyes were dissatisfied and distant seeking something more than this pretence.

It shocked Merlin to realise she thought herself no more a participant in this celebration than he did. It was a role she played, something happening to her, around her, nothing more. She stood apart from it, as he did. Her secrets and destiny held her hostage too. He was still watching her when she lifted her gaze to his, their eyes locked. Merlin had intended to look away but those searching eyes of hers seemed suddenly pleading, as if she had found something she sought or something that she needed. Instinct was about to take over, Merlin was sure that he was either about to run or possibly offer some sort of foolish, unspoken promise of unknown sort but Arthur suddenly nudged him. His gaze shifted.

"Merlin, wine?" Arthur lifted his cup and shook it slightly.

"Yes sire," Merlin bowed slightly. He hurried to the jug, the tension of the moment broken and relief surging through his veins. Merlin continued to busy himself with duties, forced himself to be fascinated by the table gossip and even managed to summon some enthusiasm for the speeches – anything really to stop himself from accidentally meeting the disconcerting eyes of Morgana.

It would be best if he did not see such a thing a second time – not that he knew what he'd seen, or been sure he'd seen it or felt and he certainly didn't want to analyse it. He could feel himself panicking and he didn't know why. He was trying very hard not to come to some sort of conclusion when shouting came from outside in the square. It sounded like a man crying out in terror.

The next moments were muddled, confused and rushed. Merlin had followed Arthur and somehow they were in the corridor being confronted with the news that the terrified man was Uther who had apparently become unwell. All thoughts of the rest of the evening were forgotten as Merlin focused on calming Arthur and helping Gaius.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Morgana drifted to the window of her chamber and opened it, feeling desperate for some fresh air. The feast given in honour of her return was over and Uther lay shivering and babbling in his bed – the bed which had beneath it an enchanted mandrake root. Some thought he'd had too much to drink, Gaius feared it was exhaustion. Arthur looked stricken and Merlin . . . distracted.

She had done what needed to be done, she told herself, it would be for the best in the long run. She had met with Morgause last night, given her Uther's tears and placed the enchanted mandrake root under his bed, now she had only to keep her nerve and wait for it to do its job.

Only it wasn't as simple as that was it? She had to continue to play the dutiful ward to a man she despised. Yes despised! Despite the pretty words he'd put on show tonight. He'd given such praise and pledges to many over the years before turning on them in a moment of suspicion. . . as he had done to Gaius with the witchfinder, as he surely would have done to her should he discover her gifts and Morgana could not forget he had done it to Gorlois. Morgana had learned that Uther had suspected her father of planning treason against him, that he had orchestrated or allowed Gorlois death. Only after the fact had Uther discovered Gorlois innocence. Morgause had told her of this and Morgana had no difficulty believing it. She had always known that Uther had failed Gorlois in some fashion. She'd been old enough to remember the rumours and snatches of conversation in the days before and after. It aligned all too well and Uther's remorse, if he had any, was assuaged by taking in herself, Gorlois poor orphaned daughter.

There was no difficulty in watching Uther Pendragon pay for his sins but, she sighed, there was much in seeing Arthur's reaction and lying directly to those around her. She wasn't sure she could do it. The chill breeze blew against her face and she continued to watch the night sky. The sounds of servants clearing the feast had dimmed and soon it would be time to venture to Morgause again. She would not be pleased to hear Morgana was having misgivings. Morgana determined there was no need to burden her with it.

Morgana prepared herself against the cold night and scratching brambles with a thick red cloak and dress. She ventured out, checking the corridors carefully, stretching her magic senses as Morgause had taught her. She exited the walls of Camelot, followed the paths of the Kings wood until she reached the planned spot.

"Sister," Morgause stepped from the shadows.

Morgana clasped the outstretched hand. "Morgause, it is good to see you."

"How went the feast?

"Much as you would expect," Morgana said plainly.

"And Uther?" Morgause inquired, "has he shown any signs of the effects?"

"Oh yes," Morgana smiled darkly, "he was found gibbering about Ygraine, claiming she was down the well."

Morgause was silent, taking a moment of quiet reflection.

Morgana forgot that she had known Arthur's mother and that it must have sparked some grief, she continued hurriedly. "Already the rumours are spreading."

Morgause smiled at that, "The mandrake's poison does its work well."

"Soon all of Camelot will believe that their king is going mad," Morgana agreed.

"And a kingdom without a king," Morgause said, "is ripe for the picking."

"When do you go to Cenred?" Morgana asked.

"Tomorrow."

"And he will do as we wish?

Mogause's smile broadened, "Cenred wishes only to please me."

"Then your time with him has been well spent," Morgana agreed.

"But now let us make a fresh mandrake," Morgause urged, "we can not let it lose its hold on him."

They did not waste time and soon their time together was at an end.

Morgana crept back to the castle feeling better for having seen Morgause but still with niggling doubts. Her friends would never understand what she was doing and Arthur – Arthur would hate her for it. If it weren't for the doubts she might have been preoccupied with visions of a future without Uther as King. Perhaps she may even have felt smug with such a fantastical accomplishment but her unease seemed to have sharpened her senses. She was more alert, more cautious and it was just as well for she had been just about to step out when she heard a guard approaching. She stepped back into the shadows just as the mandrake root began to leak from its wrappings. The guard did not notice the sound or if he did took it for something quite natural in the surroundings. He continued on his way. Morgana rearranged the root in its cloth and uttered a short, simple spell to clean the mud.

She hurried on to Uther's room and exchanged the old mandrake for the fresh one. She need not worry too much about disposing of the old one, Morgause had told her that devoid of its magic it would soon decompose to nothing. It was already a shrivelled thing, in another hour it would be gone. They had almost left it too long to change over.

Morgana returned to her room and had no sooner let out a sigh than Gwen called her name. Morgana glanced at her muddied cloak and threw it behind the bed. It was just in time. Gwen entered without being asked and proceeded to offer her assistance. Morgana felt irked, not just because of the possibility of Gwen discovering the cloak, although that was foremost but because she had spent the past year preparing herself for bed. She had enjoyed her autonomy and the privacy. The attentions of Gwen, though well-meaning, felt smothering suddenly. Morgana dismissed Gwen firmly.

Once she was certain Gwen was gone, Morgana picked up her cloak. "Fordwin wamm," she whispered. Once it was cleaned, she placed it back in its place. Morgana knew she should not have been so sharp with Gwen and yet there was something about Gwen that bothered her, something was different about how Gwen behaved, something hidden. Morgana shook her head at such thoughts, they were both different, Morgana supposed, after a year apart doing their own things and perhaps this was only a natural adjustment. Things would be back to normal between them with time. Morgana was sure.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter Text

Merlin found himself more and more anxious as the day wore on. Uther's madness had grown, he'd had an outburst in full view of the court and had to be physically removed by Arthur, Leon and his personal guards to his chambers. Gaius had suggested it was Uther's conscience that was the trouble, perhaps it was but Merlin could tell Gaius was quietly perplexed as to why his remedies were not calming the king even during sleep. Now there were rumours about strange comings and goings from Cendred's kingdom. Merlin could only assume that word of Uther's illness had already reached Cendred and fears that the Camelot would seem vulnerable were now warranted. Merlin, however, was most worried about Arthur. The prince was driving on with his tasks as if everything was normal. Arthur had a strong tendency to denial and it could, if not checked lead to both overexertion and sometimes a stubborn determination to put himself in harm's way.

Merlin had determined the best way to help Arthur, for now, was simply to ensure he ate, slept and kept fighting fit. After all, if Uther were incapacitated permanently Arthur was going to need to be in top form and if a war were to come . . . but Arthur had not appreciated Merlin's fussing. He'd dismissed him for the evening with more irritation than usual and was firm that Merlin was not to return until morning.

Merlin now continued pacing the physician's quarters.

"Here," Gaius held out a bottle forcibly, "since you have excess energy to buzz around make yourself useful and take this up to Uther, give him a spoonful if he's awake otherwise leave it nearby – I'll give it to him when I check on him later."

Merlin reached out and took the potion. "Do you really think it's his conscience, Gaius?"

Gaius thought a moment, "that and exhaustion. Yes. It's very possible."

"But he's never shown any remorse before," Merlin chewed a finger.

"Perhaps not," Gaius conceded, "but the inner workings of the mind are a mystery to us all. What Uther's thoughts really are who can guess? We are all aware of the obsession he had with recovering Morgana, how Camelot was beginning to suffer under his personal crusade."

"But she's back now," Merlin argued.

"Yes and that may have been the trigger. Suddenly all those months have caught up with him."

"I suppose," Merlin said.

Gaius gave Merlin a quizzical look but Merlin simply lifted the potion in a gesture that he would do Gaius' bidding. Merlin made his way to Uther's chamber. He had no theory as to what or why Uther had been overcome with this illness, no reason to feel particular uneasiness but something did feel off. Though Merlin himself had felt off-kilter since the feast, he frowned. He would think about why when all of this settled down.

Merlin pressed open the door to the king's chamber. Inside Uther slept and so Merlin did as Gaius instructed and placed the potion upon the bureau. He was about to leave when he noticed the king's bedclothes had slipped from him. Shivering and frightened Uther did invoke pity and yet Merlin knew Uther would not have and had not had any for the children he had drowned. Nonetheless, for Arthur's sake, Merlin pulled the blankets over the king, for Arthur's sake and perhaps Morgana's too. Merlin had been surprised by her reaction, so concerned and tender. When he spoke to her the other morning she had mentioned little of Uther but her tone had remained disgusted. Maybe her feelings were complicated or compassion was brought to the fore seeing Uther like this. He hoped that was it. Merlin shot a final once-over glance towards the king and was about to leave when he heard it, a dripping sound. He stopped and bent seeing mud pooling beneath the king's bed.

Strange. He touched the goo and rubbed it between his fingers – magic. He felt it.

Merlin heard a noise, someone was entering.

Some strange instinct took hold and he shot himself under the bed to hide. It was ridiculous really, he had a justifiable reason for being in the king's chamber. Maybe it was just that old habit of hiding his comings and goings, maybe it was the thought of being discovered in the vicinity of magic goo or maybe it was destiny because he suddenly bumped into the source of the mud. Some greasy-looking root hung beneath Uther's bed and as his face came into contact with it he knew for certain it was the source of that magic.

The footsteps of the visitor came closer. A woman, not a knight nor Arthur. The woman reached beneath the bed and grasped hold of the root without ever visually searching for it. Merlin held in a gasp as he realised at once that this woman must have put it there. He scooted to the other side, knowing he would catch sight of the culprit's face.

His heart sank, his body stiffened.

It was Morgana.

What did this mean? Was the root some sort of healing magic she was trying? Or – his heart clenched uncomfortably – had she caused Uther's illness?

Merlin slipped out of the room quietly behind her. Something stopped him from confronting her and instead he followed her at a distance through the castle, she did not turn for her chambers but took another route along passages Merlin knew were not often used.

He couldn't imagine where she was going but as they exited the castle it was soon clear that she was intent on getting outside the city. Merlin had kept out of sight and yet there was one moment where she stopped. Sensing that she was being watched. He kicked himself for not realising that her magic may give her an edge but at last, she moved on seemingly unconcerned.

She continued into the darkling woods. They were a fair distance from the castle now. She stopped and seemed to be waiting for someone. Merlin's fears were increasing, who was Morgana meeting, what was she doing? As he wondered he was reminded that his future self had bid him to keep her loyal to Arthur and to Camelot for both sakes. He must tread carefully . . . unless it was already too late. Merlin hid behind a fallen log, observing her. She looked at the moon, seeming to judge the time but at last she spoke never turning his way. "Why are you following me, Merlin?"

He was discovered, there was no point hiding, he stood up as she turned and faced him. He didn't answer her and asked her a question instead. "What are you doing to the king?" He winced at himself. Being confrontational was not treading carefully but Morgana did not seem provoked.

"Nothing he doesn't deserve," she said coldly.

Merlin was taken aback, her answer seemed to indicate harmful intent and she wasn't even trying to hide it.

Morgana folded her arms. "It has to be done and no one else can . . . or will." She spoke firmly but there was a note of sadness, "if it comes at the price of our friendship or Arthur's then so be it."

Her words alarmed Merlin. The future Merlin had warned him that Albion would need Morgana and in spite of the many misgivings he'd had about his counterpart on this account he did not wish to test him. Merlin could not let a divide occur between her and Arthur. "You haven't lost my friendship Morgana, or Arthur's. We can work this out, whatever you are doing. I know we can."

Her hands came together in a worried clasp, the eyes which earlier had begged something of him were now guarded. She was about to say something then something her attention in the distance. "Hide Merlin! Hide and stay silent. I will explain later."

Merlin dove back towards the fallen log but he positioned himself so that he could see.

Morgause arrived, Merlin was not surprised. He'd almost known it was going to be her that Morgana was meeting. He watched as the blonde sorceress held her hands out and greeted Morgana. "Sorry, you had to wait. There was much to discuss."

Morgana appeared anxious as she responded. "But your visit was successful?"

Morgause nodded, "Indeed, Cendred had heard the rumours about Uther and he does see Camelot as weak but he is not yet willing to risk his army against the citadel that has proven impregnable."

"Good. You are sure?" Morgana confirmed.

Morgause made a slight concession with her head, "one can never be quite certain with Cendred but though I am loathed to admit it, Cendred is bold and cunning but not reckless. Nonetheless, I do have a certain sway."

"There is nothing you cannot do," Morgana smiled and Merlin was struck by the closeness that had developed between the two women.

"It is you that gives me strength, sister," Morgause responded genuinely. "How goes the battle for Uther's mind?"

"It is a kingdom in need of a leader," Morgana said simply.

Merlin frowned. Was that their plan? Were Morgause and Morgana planning to take over Camelot? This could get messy and difficult but at least they'd kept Cendred out of the way. He listened intently as Morgana continued, feeling a pang of anger at her betrayal as her face turned slightly in his direction.

"Soon," she said, "the council will pressure Arthur and he will take his place as King. Then our kind will have a chance at peace."

Merlin bit his lip. He'd been wrong. This was very unexpected.

"Perhaps," Morgause responded to Morgana, her tone cautious.

"You still think otherwise?" Morgana asked.

"I will reserve my judgement for the sake of Arthur's mother and for the words you spoke to me."

"I wonder about her sometimes," Morgana sounded worried, "what my other self had seen. I wish I could have spoken to her but then I'm frighted of what she might tell me."

Merlin had been silent until that moment but he could not stop the involuntary gasp as he heard Morgana's words and remembered that his future self had come here with another! That person had evidently been a future Morgana. He belatedly put his hand over his mouth and sunk lower to the ground.

"Who is there?" Morgause said sharply. "Show yourself!"

Exposed for a second time, Merlin sighed as he took to his feet.

"Do not be alarmed sister," Morgana stepped in front of him. "It is Merlin, Arthur's servant. He has been a friend to me. I have spoken of him before." She said meaningfully.

Merlin saw a look pass between the women, Morgause frowned slightly and he sensed some reluctant understanding but he did not know what it meant.

"You knew he was here," Morgause said after a moment.

"I did," Morgana admitted and another look was given to Morgause. This time Merlin was certain it was some kind of plea not to say something or a warning not to.

Morgause moved slightly, keeping her eyes entirely on Merlin. Her lips remained immobile but her mind began to speak. "Is he aware of our plans?"

"I do not know," Morgana responded in kind.

It took Merlin a moment to realise that Morgause and Morgana were speaking mind to mind in the same fashion as the druids. They thought their conversation was private. They had no way of knowing that he could hear them and he had no intention of giving away that advantage.

"Even if he does not we cannot let him return to Camelot," Morgause said, "he has seen us meeting he will surely tell someone."

"I think we can trust him. He has no love of Uther, perhaps if I explain -"

"No, Morgana. I know your feelings on this matter but we can not leave this to chance. I will keep him here, safe until all is resolved."

Morgana looked ready to relent to this logic and Merlin knew he had to do something to prevent this. He could not be detained by Morgause and leave Arthur in the kingdom to sort out whatever was to come. Merlin was not convinced Morgause's intentions were noble or to be trusted and Uther's madness could easily have consequences within the kingdom in regard to strife. Arthur would be a prime target for anyone wanting the throne in such uncertain times. Merlin thought fast. He remembered his initial reaction at finding the root and it came to him.

"Miladies," he bowed, his next words were careful, constructed to ensure they had no suspicions over his ability to hear their thoughts. "You seem to be lost for words but I think I understand your dilemma."

"You do, do you?" Morgause said imperiously.

He affected his most guileless voice. "You've been creating some kind of magic healing root for the king right? To help his condition. You don't have to worry that I'll tell anyone you're using magic. I've kept Morgana's secret. You can trust me."

"How did you know about the root?" Morgana was startled. Apparently, she'd only been aware that he was following her.

"I heard it drip, I saw it under Uther's bed and . . ." he trailed deliberately as if reluctant to divulge this, "I saw you take it."

Morgause had snapped to attention, fire was in her eyes. For her faults, Merlin could not deny she seemed protective of Morgana.

The high priestess leant forward menacingly. "Who did you tell about this?"

"No one," he answered honestly. "I was going to ask Morgana about it. I thought maybe I could help."

Morgause gave him a hard, shrewd look before returning focusing back on Morgana. Once again the priestess used her mind to speak to Morgana. "Do you believe him?"

Morgana shifted slightly, her manner was uneasy and for a moment Merlin feared she had seen through him. At last, she spoke, "Merlin does love to help."

It wasn't really an answer and Merlin thought for a moment he detected irritation.

Morgana continued and the tone, if it had been there at all was gone. "His absence will be noticed and may raise alarms. Let him go with me. If something goes wrong I can handle it."

Morgause did not look convinced but after a moment she nodded. "Very well. He shall go with you but you must promise to call to me if there is any sign of trouble."

"I will."

Morgause turned her attention back to Merlin and addressed him aloud. "Morgana is trusting you a great deal. If you betray her, you will regret it, I promise you. I do not take kindly to those who harm my own but if you can give me your word I will accept it."

Merlin hesitated. He knew he would have to abide by any promise he made not because of any consequences or threats but because that was the kind of man he was. "I promise I will not betray Morgana's secret."

Morgause eyed him. Morgana looked away.

"We must prepare the healing root," she said smoothly, " we will return shortly. Guards, watch this servant until we return." From the shadows came men silently who stood either side of him. Morgana and Morgause headed up the hill.

Merlin was glad of the reprieve, he had time to think now. He had discovered a great deal in such a short time. Contrary to what had been said to him Morgana and Morgause appeared to be sending Uther mad with their root with the intention of pressuring Arthur to take the throne. Merlin couldn't help but remember the words of his other self, that Arthur's legacy would come from what happened. Arthur would not want it to begin this way and if he found out Morgana had used magic to wound or kill Uther he would never accept that sorcery could be used for good. It could set him against magic forever and it would surely drive a wedge between Arthur and Morgana – something else Merlin's future counterpart had warned about.

That reminded Merlin that he'd also learned that Morgana had lived in the alternate timeline even though he'd thought she'd been poisoned. What's more, the future Morgana seemed to have joined with his future self in returning to this time and had spoken to Morgause. He didn't know what to make of that at all.

He'd already had misgivings about trusting his future self and now it seemed there was even more to consider. Right now though, he had to contend with what to do about Morgana enchanting Uther. He'd just made a promise to keep her secret and he would do that. He'd made no promise about interfering with her plans. Merlin knew betraying Morgana would set both women against him but, he believed, not against Arthur. Arthur too, would have to be kept well out of the way, he must not find out what Morgana had done. Arthur and Morgana must remain allies in order for Albion to have a chance, nothing must jeopardise it. Morgana's friendship with Arthur must be safeguarded but, Merlin realised sadly, not the friendship with himself. He must be the villain so that he could save Arthur from a legacy that he would not be able to live with. Merlin would lose Morgana's trust but at least she would remain loyal to Camelot and Arthur. That he would count on.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter Text

Destiny Begins

by Milui Elenath

Chapter Fifteen

The ancient warlock who had travelled back in time with Morgana la Faye looked at her across their hollowed out tree home with eyes wide. "Did you hear it?"

Morgana la Faye, her expression as stunned as his, nodded. "Morgause, me – the other me, Morgana speaking to each other."

Merlin Emrys sat down and stared at nothing as his thoughts turned internally. "I think they were talking telepathically about me – him."

"They've still sent Uther mad," Morgana worried. "Do you think Cendred's army is on the way?"

"I don't know. There was too little to go off." Merlin went over his memory of their words searching for something he'd heard to give them a better idea.

"Things are going the same way," Morgana wailed. "Why? Why Merlin? It should have changed things. It should have." Morgana's hands were alternating between clasping and running down her face.

"It has changed," Merlin spoke thoughtfully so focused on the conversation he heard that he did not notice Morgana's agitation. "I heard Morgana say she was taking Merlin back to the castle. You didn't do that last time." He looked up and saw Morgana la Faye had already taken to her feet. She was grabbing for her cloak, ( a stolen blanket) and looking as if she were about to head out.

"Not enough," she clipped, "not if Uther is still going mad, as we heard."

"Where are you going?" Merlin shook his head at her. "Morgana, you can't do anything about this, you'll undo everything."

"I'm going to Morgause, I'm going to find out what is happening. I can do that."

"You can't." He argued. "I haven't sat idly by all these months, helpless to my own father's death for you do to undo this now!"

Morgana shook her head defiantly. "I'm not breaking the rules. It'll still be one person I've talked to, it's still Morgause."

Merlin got up and stood in her way. "You'll be changing another event."

"No," she said more reasonably, staring into his eyes. She was not full of challenge, just determination. "I just want information."

"And if it doesn't please you are you just going to go silent?" He pointed out firmly but his tone was soft. He knew that if he was calm she would listen more carefully. "You won't be able to help telling Morgause something else. You know you won't. I wouldn't either."

Morgana's face fell as she acknowledged his logic. She sagged back into the chair putting her head in her hands. "Merlin, how can we stand it?"

He came to her and put his arms around her. He knew what she meant. All of this waiting to see what would happen and all of the uncertainty of what would and would not.

"Do you think about it? What will happen to us?" She confirmed aloud.

"If we don't eventually find ourselves right back in the future?" He tried to say lightly. "Yes, I made my peace with it. A better destiny for Arthur, for me, for you, for Aithusa whatever the sacrifice."

"Even if that's the end of our existence?" She looked up at him, with such trust that he would remove all her doubts.

"What else can we do? We can't live forever like this – I certainly can't."
He thought of the vision he'd had of the world ending and him living on it all alone. It still haunted and terrified him. He'd told Morgana of it eventually. She'd refused to break the magic bond ever since, swearing to him that she wouldn't let that happen, that they'd both live or die together.

She nodded, perhaps remembering this promise, perhaps understanding that there was no choice at this point. "But what if we're wrong about everything?" Morgana asked tremulously.

Wrong about their one hope? This was the first time Morgana had voiced such concerns. She was usually the one reassuring him. He'd been the one distressed with his father's death, he'd been the one struggling to readapt to a Medieval existence without running water or modern convenience while Morgana seemed to take in her stride, she had never given over those skills living with Aithusa. He looked her straight in the eye. "Then destiny will find another way to remedy it."

She sighed in acceptance. "You're right, we must be patient." She took a few breaths, "I'm sorry."

"It's not like I haven't had my fair share of moments."

"No, I'm sorry that you are suffering this," she said earnestly. "I deserve this. . . I did terrible things but you-."

Merlin realised why it was she'd been so stoic until now, she felt she deserved this. He had similar thoughts about himself. "I did them too, whatever you think. Terrible things, innocent lives lost because of me." He sighed, thinking of the many mistakes and deaths but he shook them off – he had to. He found himself returning to the telepathic words they'd heard between Morgause and Morgana. He could make little sense of it other than that Merlin had been discovered and that Morgana still trusted him. That had to be a good sign. He gasped. "I just realised," he said to Morgana La Faye, "Merlin, the other one, must have heard them too, speaking in their minds. I always had the ability. I doubt they knew that though by the way they spoke."

Morgana bit her lip as she thought this over. "I don't see how that changes things."

Merlin shook his head, "no. I guess it doesn't. Only I didn't know that you could use telepathy, not until after Aithusa passed all these centuries later. Things have changed. We just have to hang in there."

Morgana furrowed her brow. "She didn't believe him."

Merlin sat up straight, feeling a little shiver come over him. "What? Who?"

"Morgana, she didn't believe Merlin." Morgana insisted. "She evaded Morgause's question about whether she trusted Merlin."

"Are you sure? I mean that she didn't believe him?"

Morgana tilted her head in a gesture that said clearly that he was foolish for assuming she didn't know herself.

"Oh," Merlin huffed, "they aren't making this easy at all."

Morgana allowed a small smile to grace her lips.

He guessed what she was thinking. "You think it's time the shoe was on the other foot? You not trusting me instead of me not trusting you."

"Something like that," she agreed, then sighed. "It took us thousands of years to find trust."

He reached out and took her hand, "but we did find it?" It was only half a question, some part of a statement.

She smiled a small smile, "yes." She confirmed squeezing his hand back.

"Then it's already worth it," he said sincerely, holding her gaze.

Her eyes were swimming with tears. "Yes, yes it is."

Her lids fluttered, blushes were creeping into both their cheeks that were too ridiculous for two people over a thousand years old with memories as difficult as theirs, but, the moment was not right. They both knew it, they loosened their hands and found other places to look. "I hope," Merlin said lightly, "it doesn't take these two as long as us."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Morgana Gorlois was aware that Merlin had said nothing since they parted from Morgause. She had not spoken either but she was crunching her feet into the ground in a determined almost furious pace. Merlin might have taken her pace for anxiousness to get back to Camelot before they were discovered but Morgana was only anxious to put sufficient space between them and Morgause before she confronted him and this spot here looked sufficient. "So," Morgana halted and turned toward Merlin with more bravado than she felt, "are you going to tell Arthur about this?"

Merlin seemed startled by her sudden question but he hesitated only a moment before answering "That you're healing the king with magic?" He clarified inflecting some confusion.

Morgana pursed her lips. He was still blatantly lying to her even away from Morgause. "Don't pretend you believe that Merlin," she said sadly.

The way his eyes opened in surprise wounded her further. It was as if he'd never expected her to see through his lies. Did he think so little of her? She had hoped that his deception was fear of Morgause but now she saw it was more. This was deliberate deceit to her as well. "You're not stupid Merlin," she said pointedly, "neither am I. I saw the way you looked at me when I told you Uther deserved what he got. You knew then or suspected enough to know that the root you found is not helping Uther."

Merlin looked as if he was going to protest, his face started to take on an innocent expression before it hardened, seeming to think better of keeping up the pretence. "Why didn't you make Morgause detain me?"

Morgana did not respond immediately, it was complicated. In part she could guess that Morgause being aware of her feeling for Merlin made her uneasy about leaving them together. Morgana did not much care for something coming out about that right now though she did not think her sister would reveal it. There was also the fact that the Morgause had little concern for those without magic and while she would have done exactly as Morgana had asked in sparing Merlin there was something that had unsettled Morgana about leaving him there. Something instinctual. Something dangerous about the combination.

"You don't trust her," Merlin concluded.

"I trust Morgause with my life," Morgana responded honestly.

"But not with mine?" Merlin decided again.

Morgana shook her head in disagreement. That wasn't it either. "Morgause has suffered a lot at the hands of those who hate magic. You can't blame her for being mistrusting of others or caring little for them but no I trust her to keep her word completely." She was aware she still hadn't answered his question.

"You seem to trust her a lot," Merlin began and his tone was careful, "you called each other sisters."

"Yes," Morgana admitted. "She is my mother's daughter from her first marriage, prior to Gorlois."

"Does Uther know who she is?" Merlin wondered aloud.

"I don't know. He isn't likely to tell me. Morgause wasn't sure."

Merlin took this in and then had a sudden outburst. "Don't do this Morgana, I know Uther has done some terrible things but Arthur's legacy cannot begin this way."

He was looking at her pleadingly, sincerely. It was very compelling. She dropped her eyes. She had expected this. She knew that if her actions were discovered everyone would see her differently, she'd tried to prepare herself for that, tried to harden herself against it. The open expression of hope did not make it easy to dash. "I have to Merlin."

His face didn't crash into despair merely hardened slightly. "Because Morgause wants revenge?" He insisted.

Morgana could tell he hoped she would say yes, so he could blame all of this on Morgause. Morgana wondered if it would be easier for them both if she did. Would Merlin go on pretending that Morgana wasn't capable of doing this out of her own strength? Could she pretend that she didn't see the disappointment in his eyes? His loss of faith in her almost made her lose her resolve but she couldn't sacrifice others for her own comfort. "No Merlin, because Uther is a tyrant. It has to end. Arthur will be a better king."

Merlin's expression of regret changed to one of acceptance so readily that it seemed as if he'd been prepared to be disappointed in her all along. Morgana found that hurt more than if he had refused to believe it of her.

But Merlin did not waste time with whatever emotions he was feeling, he shook his head at her plan. "Arthur is not ready."

He was so firm in his conviction. So ready to defend Arthur and so quick to condemn her. "Arthur will never be ready while Uther lives," Morgana snapped, "he is too much in his shadow." She believed that but she knew she had said it to upset Merlin.

But Merlin did not react visibly, he seemed to weigh the words and find some truth to them and yet he responded harshly. "So you will drive Uther to madness and death for Arthur's sake, or for your own?"

He was brusque but there was desperation too. He was trying to change her mind, trying to make her see what she was doing but Morgana already knew. Merlin was the one who didn't understand and she wanted to make him understand. She hadn't tried until now because she'd been frightened that his goodness would never allow him to see the pragmatism of it. But he wasn't like Gwen, who had little nuance in her views of right and wrong, who, Morgana feared, would give up a friendship rather than maintain one with someone she thought of as dishonourable because she simply couldn't stand such acts. Merlin, however, had an edge of steel about him, the sort of kindness that could be cruel if it was needed. Maybe he could be convinced to understand, maybe he could stop looking at her with such distrust.

"How many deaths has Uther caused?" Morgana countered. "You think he hasn't done worse to others? Don't you remember how Tom died?"

"I do," Merlin acknowledged softly, "but Gwen told me she didn't want Uther to die for her father's death."

"If she said so then Gwen was thinking only of herself," Morgana said bluntly.

She could see Merlin was shocked at her words and that proved that at least he thought she had some propriety left. "I don't mean that unkindly," Morgana appeased. "Gwen could not hope to see the big picture. She was deep in grief for a father. I know that pain. Tom's death was one to her but he was one man among many who were not given mercy or who were trialled and sentenced without any cause whatsoever other than suspicion. Many have been wrongly accused, you've seen it yourself Merlin, with Gaius and Aredian. It is not about revenge, Merlin, it is about justice. As long as Uther remains king there will be more left fatherless, motherless, childless and heartbroken. I knew that long ago but I lacked the courage to do anything about it. Not any more. I can not allow myself to be turned from this path, it would make me complicit. Don't you understand?"

"I do understand, believe me." Merlin paused as if measuring his words. "If I had your gifts, I would harness them for good. That's what magic should be for. That's why you were born with these powers. Don't you see that using them this way will make Arthur as much against magic as Uther is?"

"Then he's a fool too," Morgana folded her arms. She could see her response did not please Merlin and she hadn't entirely meant it. She was frustrated. She'd failed to convince Merlin after everything and if she couldn't convince him she didn't think she'd have much chance with Arthur. "He need never know," she added more reasonably.

Merlin shook his head. "The truth would come out eventually."

"Only if you tell him," Morgana maintained.

Merlin's expression was pained and conflicted.

Morgana waited anxiously for his answer. Morgana did not believe Merlin would be silenced by threats or not for long. She had seen him stand up to Uther and Arthur when he felt strongly enough about something and she had observed that his manner did not change when Morgause threatened him either. His commitment and courage to his convictions were what made her admire him so much. She wished Arthur would demonstrate more of it.

"I won't tell Arthur," he said at last.

Morgana could see that had cost him something to promise and she felt regret for putting him in such a difficult position but she couldn't stop there. She had to know what to expect. "What about Gwen, are you going to tell her about this?"

Merlin's brow furrowed slightly, "there is nothing she could do." He paused a moment and added pointedly, "She'd never understand Morgana. She couldn't."

"I know," Morgana agreed and she saw it then, Gwen was everything she wasn't. Open and guileless. Morgana did not have the luxury of being that innocent with Uther as her guardian and magic in her veins. It was no wonder Merlin would choose Gwen. Morgana was too complicated, too much a pawn of her responsibilities. Her loyalty could never be so simple. "I've tried not to lie to you Merlin," she said softly, it was a useless, last-ditch effort to prove something to him.

"I know," he said solemnly.

She searched his expression wondering if it made a difference, wondering if she'd lost not just hope of some unlikely, impossible, romance but his friendship too; his eyes were shuttered, his thoughts remote. With a sense of resignation, she summoned her own walls. "I wish things had been different."

She caught Merlin nodding silently as she shifted her gaze away.

His agreement was not much in the scheme of things, such a small gesture to signify the end of her hopes. She straightened herself and summoned her will, focusing on the despair and ill that Uther had done to keep herself steady. "Can I trust you then, to not say anything? Not to Arthur, not to Gwen, not to Gaius not to anyone. Just let this be?"

"I have little choice," Merlin said rather less than convincingly.

"If you expose me, Merlin, I'll be executed," Morgana wondered if that mattered to him, "and if you thwart me," she paused knowing it had to be said, "I'll only find another way."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Merlin walked with Morgana silently. They'd said all they could to each other. She her justifications, he his ill made promises. He managed to force a polite smile to his face as they parted at the castle gate. He had not needed to point out that the two of them re-entering the castle without being seen or noticed would be more difficult. Morgana had simply assumed he knew it and asked him if he thought he'd have any trouble getting back to his room. He'd shaken his head. Morgana, of course, was not aware of how many times he'd done it before.

But Merlin did not have any intention of returning yet to his chambers or to the citadel. What would he be returning to but lies. Lying to Arthur about his magic was one thing but lying to Arthur about Uther's madness and inevitable death was another. Keeping it from Gaius was also out of the question but likewise working against Morgana could easily end in disaster. He knew this even before she warned him or threatened him – he wasn't sure which. It was also clear if he stopped her now Morgana would do something else to Uther and next time she might be exposed, might involve others, even get herself and or Arthur killed.

His future self had warned him that Albion needed Morgana, that Arthur would need her as an ally but that was proving more and more difficult. If Arthur were to lose Uther to magic and discover Morgana's part in it that certainly wouldn't happen. Merlin could not see any way forward.

He needed advice.

Unfortunately, there was only one person, one creature, that he could think of who may have anything to offer.

Kilgharrah.

Merlin would have to journey a while before he could even think about calling him. A dragon being seen in Camelot would not help the situation.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Merlin had journeyed the rest of the night until he felt dawn was getting too near, he dared not call the dragon in daylight and so this place would have to do. He had not done this before, didn't even know if it would work but some things were instinctual and he already felt himself calling.

It was not long before a great shadow descended from the sky, obscuring the waxing moon and kissing the ground more softly than such a large creature should.

"Hello, young warlock." The dragon greeted, "I did not expect to hear from you for some time . . . or at all."

Their last meeting had been in the smouldering clearing within sight of the burning Camelot and only just beyond the sounds of distress and grief that Kilgharrah had wrought there. Merlin, last of the dragonlords had commanded the great dragon to halt, had offered Kilgharrah clemency for reasons he wasn't sure he understood and had intended to be done with the dragon forevermore not the least because Merlin had to live with the guilt of those lives taken for his part in releasing Kilgharrah.

"I did not know if you would come," Merlin admitted.

"You are a dragonlord. I could not resist even if I wanted to."

It was a conscious choice by Merlin to voice the questions. "If you could resist?"

"I would have still answered," the dragon said.

Merlin wasn't sure how to respond to that or whether to believe it, Kilgharrah was duplicitous but at least on the surface, the dragon didn't appear to be his enemy. Merlin decided he should plunge on with his request before the complicated nature of their relationship and past caught up with them. "I need advice."

"And will you listen this time Merlin?"

"I've always listened," Merlin said candidly, "I just don't tend to follow the advice you give."

"Indeed not," the dragon agreed, "so what is the point?"

"Perspective," Merlin answered decisively.

The dragon made a slight movement of his head. "You grow wiser Merlin. What is it then?"

"It's Morgana. She's returned to Camelot and she's using some sort of root and spell to make Uther go mad."

"Is she now?" The dragon stated idly, "the witch has some good in her yet."

Merlin frowned. "Stop calling her that."

"You do not object to warlock but very well. What exactly is the problem?"

"Isn't it obvious? Arthur's legacy, it can't start like this. If he ever found out that magic was the cause of his father's madness or death he would never accept magic could be used for good."

"I see. Then you must put a halt to it. It should not be difficult from what you have said it sounds as if she is using a mandrake. Simply destroy the mandrake root and Uther's madness will end. He will most likely recover. It will be close to him, hidden somewhere in his bedchamber most likely."

Merlin shook his head. "I know where it is. . . or where it was, that's not the issue. I'm worried if I stop her she'll do worse, something that could endanger Camelot and Arthur."

"Why not expose her? Or kill her, as you should have done."

Merlin pushed down his anger at the repetitive suggestion. He had not disclosed to the dragon the entirety of what had happened during the knights of Mehdir. He'd only told the dragon that Morgause had removed the spell and taken Morgana. Kilgharrah had not cared at that time, so as long as he was freed. Merlin decided he better explain. "I was visited by a future version of myself," Merlin began and then ran through the particulars, covering the importance of keeping Morgana on side.

For the first time since Merlin had known him, Kilgharrah was silent. Merlin waited as the dragon prepared his response. After a time Kilgharrah spoke. "This is surprising. Prophecy surrounding the witch is not favourable to Albion, nonetheless, a timespell is powerful magic, it requires much power even for one as powerful as you and precious ingredients difficult to acquire." There was a very solemn note to the dragon's tone. Something that seemed to have touched the dragon about this thought.

"There's more," Merlin said, "I, uh, came with someone else and I think, I think that person was Morgana."

"Morgana?" The dragon appeared even more surprised. "But you do not know whom you/he came with?"

"No, he prevented me from finding out but I heard her voice in my head. She was talking to him, I'm pretty certain it was Morgana. I did not hear her for long. He said their magic was getting weak because of the spell and because they were apart and –."

"A magical bond. I begin to see clearly some things." The dragon said. "What a conundrum! You and the witch," the dragon laughed lightly.

Merlin couldn't see what was so funny. "Yes, what am I to do about it?"

"I suspect you will discover sooner or later." The laughter began again.

Merlin scowled, the dragon was often cryptic but this was downright useless. "What is that meant to mean?"

"No, you are right Merlin, this is a serious matter," the dragon said calming, though he still appeared cheered by the way light sparkled in his tremendous gaze. "You cannot expose her. It is as you said, Arthur cannot be allowed to discover her involvement in this. This timespell and all that was sacrificed must not be ignored. If Albion's destiny requires Morgana then you must do all to preserve it, for as long as you can."

"But how?"

"You must find a way to change her mind."

Merlin huffed. "I've already tried to change her mind. She won't be swayed. She's convinced Uther is an evil tyrant who will keep killing innocents until he's removed." Merlin sighed, "she's not wrong."

"And yet you must convince her she is."

Merlin felt his patience end. "You keep saying that over and over but I don't how to, that's why I came here."

"I believe you do," Kilgharrah said, "and you must. I am sorry but I cannot help you further Merlin. You will have to find this path."

The overgrown lizard was as frustrating as ever, if Merlin knew how to convince Morgana he would know and he would have done it! Wouldn't he? But there was one way to convince Morgana that he hadn't tried. Let her in on his magic.

Could he trust her? Should he? The dragon seemed to think so.

"Thank you, I guess," Merlin said grudgingly.

"Until we meet again," the dragon bowed slightly and took to the air. "Remember, young warlock what is at stake."

Merlin pressed his lips together at this final remark. He never forgot. At last, Merlin turned and prepared himself for the long walk back. His thoughts were filled with exactly how he was going to tell Morgana his secret. It may not be enough to convince her but it was all he had and it certainly couldn't make things worse.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Morgana lay in her chambers but found sleep was not forthcoming. It was the early hours of the morning by now but not yet dawn. She threw a fur over her nightgown intending to walk the corridors of the castle. She could hardly be said to be in need of exercise after travelling to the darkling woods but lying in bed just made her visualise those disappointed blue eyes. Merlin didn't understand, she couldn't make him and that was her failure. He couldn't know what it was like to be born with magic. To be hunted and killed for something you had no choice in, to live in fear of your life day after day. She couldn't impress that upon him. He saw her now as something treasonous and heartless, maybe even corrupt. She turned the corner quickly, telling herself that ridding Camelot of Uther was the right thing, that others' lives mattered more than her whims. Whims that could never be anyway even if Merlin had agreed with her. What would she have done next? Waited for Uther to die then run off with a servant? Leaving Arthur to deal with the aftermath and hope he suddenly let magic users live their lives unheeded? Bear the scorn that Morgause already felt toward even the fantasy of such a match. Morgana thought herself wretched. Corrupt, hopeless and quite pathetic. She stalked around yet another corner and suddenly there was Arthur, pacing along the corridor with a scowl that matched her own. "Arthur?" she exclaimed in surprise.

"Morgana?" he echoed her tone. "I thought you'd be asleep. . . of course you aren't. You're worried about Father."

She bit her lip, nodded silently, simultaneously hating herself and wanting to scream. She had kept things from Arthur in the past and the relationship between them was often strained and not close but she'd prided herself on her honesty when it had come right down to it. She'd always made it a point to say exactly what she thought even when it was not appreciated. Yet she had set herself on a path of deceit with him now. With all of them for the foreseeable future.

"Did you hear what the council wants?" Arthur began.

Morgana shook her head. She could guess. It was what she'd been hoping by the look on Arthur's face it wasn't what he was hoping for.

"They want me to usurp him! To usurp father. They want me to become regent! It's outrageous treason is what it is."

Arthur was looking to her for confirmation but she didn't give it. She thought about giving a preamble about how much she also wanted Uther to recover – full of worried looks and lies but she couldn't do it. "A kingdom needs a leader Arthur," she pointed out quietly.

"You as well Morgana? I thought you of all people would be on my side. He's lying there and" his voice cracked, "everyone's plotting against him. He's my father and my king."

Morgana blinked sadly. How could she not be moved by Arthur's obvious distress, it was hard to lose a parent – she knew that well. She had lost both and Arthur he would lose the only parent he had known.

"I'm sorry," Arthur rallied, pulling himself together and taking on that insufferable princely manner. "I know you're hurting too, Morgana. Father will get through this. You'll see." His façade worryingly broke then recovered again. "Get some sleep, he wouldn't want you wandering in these draughty halls."

She nodded again unable to voice anything.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"My lady?"

Morgana watched the people milling below in the square. How many of them would kill her if they knew she was a sorceress? How many would not? Would Arthur be swayed by popular opinion or could he stand against it if the cause was just? Was he ready to be King or was it too soon? Was she doing all this for naught? Would anyone really be saved? Could she live with herself if Uther took more lives? Could she live with herself if she took Arthur's father from him? Was Merlin right? Was this wrong?

"Morgana?" Gwen's voice broke into her thoughts and Morgana realised that the young woman had been attempting to get her attention for some moments.

"I'm sorry Gwen, I was . . . thinking."

"I understand," Gwen said, "it's a difficult time."

Morgana blinked at Gwen confusedly before realising Gwen was offering sympathy to her. "Yes," Morgana said softly but she knew that Gwen was referring to Uther's ailment not the predicament Morgana faced. She looked Gwen full in the face and was surprised not to see even a tiny flicker of satisfaction in the situation. "Don't you think he deserves it?" Morgana suddenly burst out, "I mean after everything he did to your father, to others. To those children, he drowned!"

Gwen was taken aback and stood a moment quiet and thoughtful. "I don't know. It's not really my place to say."

"and if it was your place to say," Morgana insisted desperately, hoping Gwen could dispel her doubts.

"I honestly don't know," Gwen said, "I don't know if Uther's conscience is doing this or if this is some sort of punishment that he deserves. That doesn't matter to me, Uther doesn't matter to me. What matters is that you and Arthur are hurting over it."

"I'm not you know," Morgana confessed. "I hate him sometimes." She looked hard at Gwen who looked scandalised. "You don't though do you, Gwen? You really don't hate him."

"I don't want to be like him," Gwen said and there was a note of anger beneath the softly spoken words that hinted that there was some struggle there at least. "I won't let my grief turn into hate, the way Uther let his grief become. That's not what my father would want of me."

Morgana felt her heart tremble a little, a tear slipped down her cheek as she thought of her own father. Gorlois had died at Uther's hands but he would not have wanted his little girl to do this either. He would have expected so much more of her. To fight without these tactics. It made her think of Arthur again and how broken he seemed over Uther's illness.

"I've upset you," Gwen said alarmed.

"No," Morgana shook her head and smiled tenderly. She didn't know how she could explain what Gwen had done but was interrupted by a knock at the door.

Morgana hurriedly wiped her eyes and turned slightly away as she nodded towards Gwen to find out who it was.

"Gaius," Gwen greeted somewhat fearfully.

"Is it Uther?" Morgana cried alarmed, was it too late? Had she killed him? Murdered him?

"No," Gaius said quickly, "he remains unchanged milady. I am sorry, I didn't mean to alarm you. I was looking for Merlin. I thought either of you might have seen him."

The question was general, Morgana thought it was likely directed at Gwen and yet Gaius seemed to be looking at her.

"Not since yesterday," Gwen said off-handedly.

Morgana realised that Gaius must have an urgent need for Merlin if he'd come looking for him all the way up in her chambers.

"Is there a problem?" she asked.

"I'm not sure." Gaius gave a small shrug as if he would dismiss the matter.

She'd seen him do it often enough when her nightmares had come on. That tiny gesture was meant to dissuade her from pursuing her concerns usually when they were most justified. She hardened her stare. "What is it?"

Gaius relented. "Merlin didn't come home last night."

Morgana thought fast. That was absurd. She had returned to the castle with Merlin, he could not have been waylaid on his return, could he? "Have you checked the dungeons?"

"Milady?" Gaius was aghast at the suggestion.

Morgana hurried to explain, "it's just there was a curfew last night, maybe he was . . ." she faltered, "out on some errand or something."

Gaius looked even more serious if possible. "I would have thought I'd be informed but I will check. Thank you milady."

He was right though, he would have been informed. Or should have been. Maybe this was her fault. Maybe Merlin had decided he couldn't lie for her and so he'd done the next best thing and left the kingdom. He might even have returned to Ealdor. She might never see him again. But what of his life here as Arthur's servant? Or more convincingly his life with Gwen? Not that Gwen seemed to be concerned but surely Merlin would have said goodbye to Gwen if he intended to leave, even take Gwen with him unless he was too frightened to – Morgause had threatened him – he wouldn't put Gwen in danger. Morgana halted her thoughts. None of that mattered right now, not yet.

"Gaius!" Morgana called, "I need to speak to you for a moment. If you would."

"Certainly," he said.

"Gwen, could you?" Morgana indicated a need for privacy.

Gwen curtsied, "uh yes, I'll run those errands."

Morgana watched Gwen leave and then looked toward the expectant Gaius. Her heart was racing, there was no going back once she did this. She took a deep breath. "I've done something terrible Gaius. Several terrible things actually. Merlin knows about it."

"I see," Gaius said not terribly shocked so far but seeming uncomfortable. "I'm listening."

She began to pace, shooting him looks every few words to see how he would react. "I'm the reason Uther is going mad. I enchanted him. I've got magic, you knew that I think, " she waved her hands dismissively. "It's a root, mandrake, under the bed. I thought . . . I thought the kingdom would be better off under Arthur but," she down wearily on the bed, "I can't be like him. Like Uther. I can't. I won't. I can't save lives at the expense of all I am . . . or want to be. You've got to help Uther, Gaius." Me, she wanted to add. Help me.

Gaius did not move at first and Morgana wondered if he'd heard her or if he was contemplating calling the guards but slowly he approached her and took her hand. "I'm glad you've told me, Morgana. I'll see to Uther, you can trust me." Gaius patted her hand. "It's the right thing."

She looked up at him blearily, "Is it?"

"It is."

She'd needed to hear that and the physician seemed so certain.

"Don't worry, now that you've told me. I know what to do." Gaius stood ready to depart, placating her as if she was merely distressed and hadn't just revealed that she'd committed a treasonous crime that could mean her death.

"There's something else Gaius," she added tenuously. "Merlin discovered what I'd done last night. I made him promise not to say anything. He wasn't happy about it. He should have returned to his chambers but I think he may have left Camelot for good because of it."

"Ah," Gaius responded.

Morgana watched Gaius' expression, his wrinkled his brow, his eyes calculating the odds. He evidently believed it was possible. "Do you think he'll come back when he hears Uther is cured? If Uther is cured? For Gwen's sake at least?" Morgana meant that. Merlin's home was here where people cared about him, people like Gaius, Arthur and Gwen. She'd never wanted to take that from him. She, if nothing else, knew belonging was important.

"Gwen's sake?" Gaius said confusedly.

Morgana hesitated, "aren't they . . . close? I thought while I was away maybe they had –."

Gaius shook his head, "I don't think so. In fact, I'm positive they are just friends."

"Oh," Morgana said, she could hardly process what she felt the timing was poor – too little too late.

"But I'm sure Merlin has not left Camelot," Gaius unexpectedly offered. "He's probably off doing some early chore for Arthur that he forgot to do yesterday and I just happened to miss him this morning. He'll turn up – I promise you."

Gaius was sincere in his belief though Morgana didn't know how he could be. Nonetheless, she did hope he was right.

"Now," Gaius said, "I must go see to Uther. We'll speak again later."

"I'm afraid not. I'll be leaving Gaius," Morgana informed him.

"No Morgana, you can't!" Gaius broke in.

"I certainly can," she countered imperiously. "I'm not staying around to be executed and I warn you Gaius not to get in my way." She had no plans to hurt him but she couldn't let her stop from leaving.

"Morgana, you've seen how Uther pursued you when you were lost. He has severely compromised the kingdom already. I fear Camelot cannot take another one of his crusades."

"What do you suggest I do Gaius sacrifice myself for Camelot to satisfy Uther's bloodlust?" Morgana scoffed.

"No milady, I'm suggesting you have no reason to leave. Uther need not know what has transpired. I assume you have told no one else."

Morgana gasped. Never did she think Gaius would cover for her. "Only Merlin," she said.

"You can trust Merlin," Gaius said slowly, "and you know you can trust me. I've only ever looked out for you."

Morgana wasn't sure. Gaius had kept quiet about his suspicions when the witchfinder was here to his own detriment and she'd not forgotten that but he'd also kept her abilities from her. In some ways, she understood why but it had left her so alone and frightened. Over time those feelings abated as she came to know her magic but Gaius made her uneasy.

"Uther dotes on you," Gaius was frank, "I do not think he would believe me if I told him and if he should I do not think in his current state he would recover from the shock."

"Uther dotes on me so long as I play the doting ward. If he knew Gaius . . . he has threatened me too many times in anger for me to be fooled," Morgana shrugged.

"Perhaps," Gaius conceded. "It is your decision Morgana but I think your presence here is necessary for Camelot. At least for now."

Morgana considered this, she wasn't sure what good she could do here in Camelot but returning to Morgause did not offer immediately anything better. "I don't know if I can trust you, Gaius. I'm sorry if that upsets you."

"You can milady. I swear on my life I will not reveal your involvement."

"No," she said, "swear to me on Merlin's life."

Gaius' mouth drew together before he finally nodded. "I swear on Merlin's life."

She did believe that promise. Gaius cared for Merlin more than himself. "Are you sure though Gaius? Are you sure you want to do this? You know what it means?" This time her concern was for the physician.

"Yes."

"Very well, I will stay. For now." She warned. She would make no promises, not where Uther was concerned.

"What will you tell Uther?" she said.

"That it was an illness brought on by exhaustion," Gaius said confidently.

"He won't believe it."

"I am his physician. I will make sure he does."

Morgana had no choice but to hope so.

"Thank you, Gaius," she said, "I do mean that."

"Milady," Gaius bowed.

Morgana watched him go. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She had to turn her thoughts now to informing Morgause. She would have to go in person. They had not planned to meet for a few more days. She wondered how Morgause would take the news. Would she be disappointed in her? Angry? Would she, could she understand?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX


Author's note - thankyou for all the reviews and follows they are appreciated. I hope you are continuing to enjoy it. There is plenty more to go - honestly this has turned into a bigger project than I had planned but I want to see it through until all things are right and we know that Camelot is on the path to greatness. 

Chapter Text

Morgause crumbled the herbs she’d dried into a small pouch and looked around the cave she currently resided in. It was not home; she had never had a home to speak of. She had allies, castles to retreat to, and secret places in other kingdoms that were safehavens known to the high priestesses but never something as permanent or as certain as a home. For the most part, it didn’t bother her, she was kept busy enough seeking knowledge and skills throughout the lands always with the goal of rising in power until such time as she felt confident that revenge upon Uther could be exacted for all the lives he’d taken. The time was at hand - she hoped. Her third attempt. The first, telling Arthur of the truth of his magical conception to spur the prince to take action against his father had failed, the second had been interrupted by a visitation of a being insisting itself as Morgana from the future.

That was still a strange thing to think about, the way the future being had inserted herself into that day and event, giving warnings and advice with such familiarity. Morgause had been uneasy about the person who called herself Morgana, not entirely trusting of her words or ways but as she had come to know her present sister Morgause felt more inclined to take the future being seriously. However, whatever cautions were given, Morgause did not find it occupied her every decision nor would she allow it to hamper her from forging her own destiny. She lay the pouch of herbs on the table and heard the quiet whistlings of birds beyond, in the darkling forest.

She had sent the bloodguard back to their various duties in their own estates knowing that she could call them forth again should she need to but for now it was safer if she was the only one hidden in the forests of Camelot. She had put charms in the nearby trees to alert her if there were intruders. She startled slightly as she felt one now, a tiny pulse of magic. Her sharp eyes darted to the only entrance, a narrow passage of rock that let in a small amount of light. Her hand went immediately to her sword but the rest of her remained immobile. Her brows furrowed together as she strained to listen. Was it a creature of the woods or something more? The question was answered as she heard footsteps. Perhaps an individual or a small group.

She had no need to flee the cave, her position was defendable. The width of the passage made sure her opponents could only come single file and one blast of her magic would send them hurtling back into one another . . . provided there was more than one. If needed she could make escape via a teleportation spell.

“Morgause?” Morgana’s tentative voice called into her head.

Morgause’s raised hand did not drop, instead, she steadied itself. “Morgana? Is that you? Are you alone? Is something wrong?” Morgause held her ground while she waited for answer but she did not disguise the worry in her telepathic tone.

“I’m alone,” Morgana entered the passage and Morgause could see that it appeared to be true but Morgana looked wearied and anxious.

Morgause relaxed her stance, crossed the floor of the cave and took her sister’s hands. “What has happened? Is it Merlin? Has he betrayed you?”

Morgana shook her head. “No. Not at all. In fact, Merlin seems to have left Camelot.”

“Ah,” Morgause breathed an inward sigh, she was very disturbed by Morgana’s attachment to the servant but if this sudden visit was about him having scarpered off then Morgause would be best to keep those thoughts to herself and offer sympathy. . . and hope that was the end of the matter.


“But that is not why I have come,” Morgana looked grim and Morgause began to sense that there was bad news . . . or could it be that Uther had died and Morgana felt more than she expected? Some grief? Some regret?

“I,” Morgana moistened her lips, “couldn’t go through with it Morgause. I’m sorry.”

Morgause heard her sister but she felt as if she’d missed something. “I don’t understand, what do you mean you couldn’t go through with it?”

“I told Gaius what I had done to Uther, he removed the enchantment. Uther will likely recover.”

There was a moment of shock but Morgause was used to thinking on her feet. She sorted through the many concerns this revelation raised with little external reaction. She had learnt that emotional outbursts were not usually helpful in times of crisis and so her tone was almost flat as she sought more information. “You have revealed yourself?”

“Only to Gaius,” Morgana stated. “Don’t you want to know why I did it? Are you very angry?”

“Angry?” Morgause said perplexed. What was there to be angry about? Another foiled attempt on Uther. In all their planning, success was never guaranteed. “No, sister. Concerned about the aftermath. Perhaps we should leave here and discuss this in safer territory.”

“No,” Morgana shook her head, “there is no need. We’re not in danger. Not for now in any case.”

That did surprise Morgause. “Are you certain?”

Morgana nodded.

Morgause had spent the last year teaching Morgana and so she trusted her sister’s ability to determine this.

“Come then,” Morgause needed to sit down even if Morgana didn’t. There was a log rolled into the cave that worked as a makeshift seat. Morgause stretched out her hand and spoke magic to the fire. It lit carefully. She kept it small in the enclosed space, enough to keep them warm not enough to choke them or alert the outside world.

Morgana still looked troubled. Morgause had always found herself feeling protective of her young sister even though it had never been in her nature to coddle anyone. Morgana seemed to exhibit some manner of vulnerability that must surely compel even the hardest of hearts to care about her welfare, or so Morgause believed. “Tell me everything Morgana,” she urged, “hold nothing back. We are kin in blood and in magic and that will not change.”

Morgana suddenly had tears in her eyes though they did not fall. “I don’t deserve such loyalty. I’ve failed you sister. I’ve failed our kind and yet I couldn’t do it. I feared Arthur would turn against us all. I felt I was betraying Gorlois and myself. I had to decide which was worse.” Morgana continued to explain what had transpired, all her doubts and to and fros, all her guilts and recriminations. Morgause listened carefully

“And now,” Morgana finished woefully,  Gaius says I must stay but I do not know how I could bear to. I can not keep up the pretence of caring about Uther now.”

“But you must,” Morgause urged her immediately.

“What? Why?” Morgana was clearly taken aback.

“You are still in a unique position Morgana, one privy to the comings and goings of Camelot and to Uther’s directions. It may yet prove to be very important. Plus you must keep your eye on the young Pendragon. I wish to learn all there is about his undertakings.”

“You want me to remain? To spy on them all?” Her tone was alarmed but her frown was thoughtful.

“Not spy, observe.” Morgause corrected. “Have you changed your mind about our cause? About ensuring that magic returns to Camelot?”

“No. I haven’t.” Morgana said firmly.

“Good then use this opportunity Morgana while we have it.” Morgause saw the way Morgana’s brow wrinkled, she still needed convincing. “As long as you can bear it,” Morgause persuaded. “And I will remain here for a time, in case you need me.”

“Here?”

“For now,” Morgause said. 

“You are too good to me Morgause, when you must be disappointed in me.”

“No, I am not.” Morgause did not say it but she should have expected this outcome. Morgana’s connections with the people in Camelot were strong and her heart was dedicated to protecting those whom she considered her own. Morgana still saw them as innocents.

They spoke a little more, determining that Morgana would come report on the doings of Camelot and the Pendragons and agreeing that she would bear Camelot as long as she could. The time came that they must part and Morgause rose to see Morgana out. Morgana paused at the exit, she smiled as if to bid goodbye but then her eyes glazed, she reached out and gripped Morgause’s wrist.

“The pyre,” Morgana intoned vaguely, “the funeral pyre that holds the sun. Seek the sun,” Morgana’s tone heightened. “For Albion’s need.”

“The sun?” Morgause whispered instantly recognising that Morgana was in a seer’s trance.

“By the third moon,” the instruction came.

“The third moon,” Morgause repeated committing it to memory.

“What’s that?” Morgana shook her head slightly. “I’m sorry I must have fazed out for a moment.”

“Nothing,” Morgause forced her mouth into a benign smile, “be safe sister.”

Morgana nodded.

Morgause watched her, the pleasant smile pasted to her face until Morgana was out of sight. Morgause let out a breath she was holding as she considered the last moments. A seer’s trance was uncommon even among the greats and Morgana seemed unaware she was having them. She had two in the last year in Morgause’s presence. Morgause had been startled the first time. Morgana had simply said ‘they are coming.’ Morgause had not listened but in another day or so she and Morgana had been forced to flee when Mercia’s kingdom had sent a patrol to the abandoned fort they’d been inhabiting. They’d only just escaped in time. The second time Morgana had given a similar warning. “It will soon be here.” Morgause heeded the vague warning immediately. It had proven to be the right decision. The area they were in had erupted into war the next day. 

Morgana’s forewarnings until now had been simple but not so this time. Morgause frowned. Perhaps she should have made Morgana aware of this habit. She’d kept quiet since Morgana had rejected exploring her dreams or seers abilities. Morgana had been so traumatised by the last dream – the dragon’s destruction of Camelot that Morgause did not push. Besides, the seer’s visions were not in her field of expertise. Morgause could conjure only the present using tools such as the crystal and she had enough warnings of the future without courting more. But now she worried that Morgana might have a seer’s trance within the castle and in the presence of the wrong person. Morgana’s words would be unlikely to be thought of as anything more than a strange sentence unless it came true but still, she had best inform Morgana when she next saw her.

For now Morgause had Morgana’s words to ponder over and only three moons to understand its meaning about funeral pyres and ashes.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Merlin yawned and half stumbled through the woods, the sun was already setting. After parting from Kilgharrah he had tried to cover as much ground as he could before briefly giving in to the urge to sleep. He’d balanced himself uncomfortably on a tree root, assured that falling off it would wake him before he fell into a deep sleep. He knew that any more than one day away from Camelot was unwise both for Arthur’s safety and for his own. As it was Arthur would not be happy to have had his manservant missing at a time like this, facing Uther’s death and the unrest of the kingdom internally and externally.

Merlin hoped that Gaius had been able to keep his eye on Arthur. He also hoped Gaius wasn’t too worried about his disappearance. Gaius would probably guess it was some sort of magical business but it wouldn’t have stopped him worrying. Why hadn’t Merlin thought to tell Gaius something – why had he run off to Kilgharrah without at least telling Gaius he was seeking some . . . well information and would be back in a day? Merlin supposed it had all seemed so urgent and sneaking back in and then out again wasn’t ideal. Merlin felt suddenly amused to discover that his youthful propensity to be impulsive was lessening. That’s what he got for being an apprentice to Gaius and servant in a royal kingdom he supposed.

The grin that spread across his face didn’t last as he recalled that his main concern now was telling Morgana of his powers in order to stop her from killing Uther. Revealing all – it was a sobering thought. He had determined that the best way to approach this was to find her immediately. He suspected Gaius would want to talk him out of it and if Arthur intercepted him, he would want to chide or punish Merlin for his absence with chores. Time was of the essence where Uther was concerned, Merlin could not afford to be delayed or deterred. Merlin had tried to give up thinking of all the ways that Morgana might respond. There was no telling but Merlin had no choice, he had to risk it and hope she not only took it well but agreed to keep his secret.

Finally, the lights of Camelot were visible and grew as he approached until they were recognisable as window shapes and hanging lanterns. Merlin took the appropriate precautions as he weaved through the lower town and into the castle’s side entrance. That was the easy part. The more difficult part was Morgana’s chambers. He reached the stairs that lead to her alcove but he heard voices. It was Gaius. He must be speaking with Morgana.

Merlin shrunk himself into a darkened corner as he heard the door open and Gaius bid Morgana good night. Merlin held his breath as the old physician passed by. He took a deep breath and lifted his gaze to the stairwell. This was it. There was no going back once he’d done this. How would she react?

Merlin squared his shoulders. Nothing mattered except getting through to her. He scaled the stairs and knocked.

“Is there something more Gai-.” Morgana opened the door and halted her words. “Merlin! You’re back.” Her amazement was obvious but then puzzlement washed her features. “You can’t have gone far.”

“No, um, I just . . .” Merlin hadn’t expected to explain his absence so quickly. Perhaps he should just be completely upfront. He opened his mouth but Morgana was already shaking her head.

“You don’t have to explain,” she shrugged.

He didn’t know why she was suddenly backing away from answers but he couldn’t let this go. “I think I should.”

“No, I put you in a terrible position” Morgana spoke softly, “I understand why you left.”

“You really don’t,” Merlin said firmly.

Her face fell. “I suppose I deserve that. I want you to know Merlin that I am sorry.”

Merlin nodded, “I know but your really don’t understand.” Merlin took a deep breath, “I’ve got to tell you something. It’s not easy.”
 

“I’d rather you didn’t. Can’t we just pretend none of this happened?”

Merlin was astounded. “I think that it would be impossible once Uther dies.”

“But,” Morgana protested, eyes wide, “Gaius just told me he would recover!”

Merlin was taken aback. “He did? Gaius did but how? Why? When?”

“Just now,” Morgana said.

“Oh,” Merlin’s thoughts raced. Had Gaius found the mandrake on his own? Was Morgana angry? Did she think he’d told the physician?

“You . . . you didn’t know?” Morgana stammered, “Didn’t Gaius tell you?”

Merlin shook his head. “I haven’t seen him yet.” He wished he had now since Gaius would have been able to give some clarity about what was going on.

“I told Gaius everything,” Morgana explained, “He destroyed the mandrake for me. The enchantment was broken. I told Morgause what I’d done too. She was very understanding.” She added as an aside. “I thought you knew, I thought that was why you came back.”

“Yes, no, um,” Merlin faltered. Merlin’s thoughts were racing trying to put all the pieces together. Morgana had broken the enchantment of Uther on her own which meant there was no reason now to tell her about his magic but he still had to answer for where he’d been. “I just needed to think things through outside of Camelot’s walls.” It wasn’t a lie.

Morgana fiddled with her hair brush, “oh.” There was a tremor in her tone, an unasked question of what that meant.

Merlin could guess where her doubts lay, “I would have kept my promise.”

“And will you still?” She queried softly. “I know it’s a lot to ask and if you want me to leave Camelot. I will.”

Her eyes shot to his convincing him that she meant the offer. Merlin felt wretched for considering it but he did. Things were simpler with her at arm’s length but if she was important to Albion then it was better if she remained close to Arthur. “No, I want you to stay. Your place is here. I’ll keep your secret for as long as you need.”

She look relieved and Merlin wondered whether it was more about his promise to keep her secret or about staying in Camelot. He couldn’t tell.

Morgana let her eyes gently rest on his, “Thank you.” She sighed. “These last few days, it’s been so hard lying to you all. I’m glad that there are no secrets between you and me now. . . and Gaius,” she added quickly.

Merlin only managed to nod. She was looking at him with such open trust. No secrets, except his greatest one. He’d come so close to telling her, finally relieving himself of some of the secrecy that plagued him and the moment wasn’t gone. He could tell her now, now when she was feeling contrite and understanding over her deceit. He opened his mouth, “you did the right thing,” he said instead, sounding flat and inane.

“I hope so,” she said.

“Well,” Merlin shuffled his feet slightly, “I better go tell Gaius I’m back.”

“He’ll be very relieved,” Morgana said properly, her demeanour taking on a more formal manner.

Merlin gave a slight bow with his head of acknowledgement and farewell as she saw him to the door. The door closed behind him. Morgana had done the right thing, Uther would live, Arthur wouldn’t turn against Morgana or magic because of Uther’s death and Merlin’s secret was safe. All was well, why then did Merlin feel his stomach still churning? Why did he feel as if he’d just made an awful decision?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The castle was quiet despite the hour being well into the morning, it surprised Morgana to see so few servants and knights as she walked purposefully into the parlour. She thought surely everyone would be back to normal by now. It had been well over a week since Uther had started his road to recovery and the King had been back at his duties yesterday. Morgana was as relieved as anyone – but only because it had freed her from the confines of watching over him. Gaius had given her the responsibility of calling for him whenever Uther stirred so that the physician could administer a sedative. Gaius had insisted that it would be more convincing that her enchantment was exhaustion if they’d kept Uther bedridden for just that little bit longer. Morgana suspected Gaius thought keeping her by Uther was a just punishment for what she had tried to do.

She did not. She wondered at Gaius’ trust, she could easily have changed her mind, smothered or stabbed Uther and probably escaped. She’d considered it. Arthur turning against magic had been one of her primary deterrents in going through with her original plan but while neither of those methods of murder required it, her escape would and Uther’s vulnerable state was also a result. Perhaps it had been a test – to see if she could refrain from killing Uther, to see if she could be trusted if so Gaius had played with the king’s life. Morgana wasn’t sure how she felt about that – either his trust in her was great or his loyalty to the king was less than it appeared. She wondered if it was Uther that brought this secrecy and duplicity out in people but then even good Kings had subjects who would conspire against them. She shook her head, such thoughts were not helping her headache but then she was certain that very little would. There was but one outcome to a headache like this – a nightmare.

Morgause had told her that they were likely seer’s visions and that in a kingdom with magic, would have helped put someone on a better path or a better solution and that Morgana would have known whom to tell. That really hadn’t been any comfort to the terrible things she’d seen.

In many ways it was worse to know this, it left her truly helpless if she couldn’t even do anything with them. The last dream had been of a dragon destroying Camelot. Morgana had removed her bracelet to better understand her powers and woken screaming, trembling and terrified for those in Camelot. She could still the faces of torment and horror among the citizens and Merlin’s face of anguish. Fragmented though they were Morgana felt more meaning in them than they showed, something she didn’t quite consciously understand, an added grief hidden in shadow. Morgause had told her that in time the seer’s ability would give more clarity but Morgana had kept her healing bracelet on ever since. She did not want to encourage that magic. The dreams had disappeared and she’d had very few headaches in her time away from Camelot that had even hinted that she was suppressing them but now the pressure was building. She had a stray thought that something about Camelot triggered them more frequently or even gave them or her magic strength. It was certainly the case that this vision was putting up more of a fight than usual. It seemed quite determined.

Morgana pulled out the chair at the writing desk and sat down. There was a tournament soon and her duties required her to ensure the kitchen had enough food for the knights’ stay, the seating arrangements of the nobles were properly arranged and that the castle servants were adequately spread to assist in maintaining rooms. She’d taken up the role for many years and heard that poor Sir Geoffrey had been given most of the task in her absence while Uther did only the more sensitive arrangements. Uther would not have trusted another member of the court. Morgana knew that for certain.

He had never sent Morgana to other houses to be hosted or trained by other ladies of the court, nor had he allowed Morgana to host or train girls or young women of other noble houses when she became of age. Neither had he allowed Arthur to retain a squire, not when it might be someone from a rival lord and there was no purpose in teaching a peasant (in Uther’s mind). Uther had given excuses to her and told Arthur to focus on his own training and those already knighted. The truth was Uther did not trust the other houses despite their sworn allegiance. It was why he had chosen Gwen as her maid and jumped at the chance at giving Merlin a household position. They were no threat. They had no power. They could spread no gossip . . . or none that mattered to anyone of consequence.

Morgana sighed and leant on her chin as her quill hovered over yet another list. She had seen nothing of Merlin since his return although she’d come across Arthur outside of her vigil. She’d seen little of Gwen because of the situation with Uther but even this morning Gwen had been so efficient in gathering her laundry and departing that it was clear the distance between them had not resolved. It hadn’t had a chance to what with one thing and another and now this headache.

Morgana felt lonely and irritated and she had a dinner with Uther tonight, the first since his recovery. It was bound to be a struggle. She longed to see Morgause, to feel free to be herself, to be honest, to see someone look back at her without suspicion or demand.

A gentle knock broke her from her reveries.

“Milady?”

Morgana looked up, it was Gwen the sight of which seemed to instantly make her headache start to thrum a little more incessantly. “Gwen?” Morgana acknowledged forcing her tone to sound normal. “I thought you be finished with your morning tasks and would be in the lower town by now.”

“I just finished,” Gwen confirmed and at Morgana’s slightly raised brow added. “I was waylaid by one of the laundry maids who needed an ear,” Guinevere shrugged diffidently.

Morgana had seen this happen before, servants in the castle frequently thought that if they could just get the ear of Gwen she would then entreat their plight to Morgana who would do something about it. If only it were that simple. Morgana had helped the townsfolk in the past, sometimes a new well or extra guards at a particularly thief-prone spot at the markets but Uther was only so flexible and it fell on Gwen when things didn’t change. “Poor Gwen,” Morgana responded with a sympathetic smile, “back to being the go between, you must hate it.”

“No milady,” Gwen said, “not at all. It’s my duty.”

Morgana smiled indulgently, only Gwen could put it that way. “Was it something I can help with?”

“No, nothing you need be bothered with,” Gwen rolled her eyes. “It was too ridiculous.”

Morgana had never pressed Gwen before over these decisions. She’d put it down to being as simple as trusting Gwen’s judgement but suddenly Morgana realised there was a lot more going on in these situations than she had ever considered. Morgana knew that in the past she had been so drained from the nightmares that there were times she was barely functioning, other times she’d become so inward looking, so fearful of Uther that outside concerns didn’t matter. Any burden and certainly one as complex as who to help and who not to had naturally been given over to anyone that would take it.

Gwen had taken up the responsibility, not just taken but never balked at making such choices . . . in fact Gwen relished it. Morgana could see it in the flippant dismissal of the laundry maid. Morgana could now remember past times and the calculated look in Gwen’s eyes when servants approached. It was in Gwen’s tone, firm and sure. It was a shock.

Gwen, kind and fairminded Gwen, enjoyed power.

For a moment Morgana felt horrified, as if discovering something awful but as she looked at Gwen, standing dutifully in the doorway it became clear she was the same Gwen she’d always been. Morgana didn’t doubt Gwen’s judgement and if she liked a little power in deciding what was good for the townspeople and what wasn’t then they should be so lucky as to have someone so levelheaded. Yet Morgana wondered what else she had failed to notice in Camelot. She determined that she should be more outward looking.

Gwen didn’t move from the doorway, “I just came by to see whether you needed anything before I left. I know you were not feeling the best this morning. Are you sure you don’t want to rest before tonight?”

Morgana smiled genuinely at Gwen gratified that she’d come all the way here to check on her even if the maid did look a little awkward. Morgana hoped that meant that Gwen wanted the easiness back between them. “That’s very kind of you Gwen but I’m afraid I have too much to do here,” Morgana lifted the papers slightly in gesture but the sleeve of her gown tipped the inkwell. Gwen ran forward as Morgana sighed exasperatedly as they both reached to rescue the papers.

Morgana was sure only a moment had passed as a slight dizziness washed over her but Gwen was not where she remembered, instead she was a step back from the table, looking at Morgana in a mix of fear and disgust and rubbing at the ink that had somehow been smudged across her hand. “It’s just ink Gwen,” Morgana said disconcerted before noticing that her own position seemed altered and that her left hand had smudges of its own. She stared at it a second, “how did I do that? And why are you looking at me like that Gwen?” The maid had not stopped staring.

“It’s nothing,” Gwen said then after a moment she blurted, “You don’t remember what you said?”

“About the ink?”

Gwen shook her head eyes wide. “I think I’ll fetch Gaius, he’ll know what to do.”

“I don’t need Gaius Gwen,” Morgana said but it was clear Gwen had no intention of staying in the same room as her. “Gwen!” Morgana called but she knew it was no good.

Morgana turned back to the mess of papers and ink. She had a terrible feeling it was a metaphor for her life. Gwen had looked frightened out of her mind, what had Morgana done that she couldn’t remember? What had she said?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Merlin rinsed the plates that Gaius and he had eaten from in the basin. Gaius had finished before him and headed out warning him not to be too long. Indeed Arthur would be expecting him back, lunch in hand very soon. Merlin was not tempted to delay, Arthur had been in a good mood since Uther’s recovery and he had no reason to upset the apple cart. Things were going rather pleasantly and dare he say it uneventfully . . . for Camelot. Merlin allowed a little smile to grace his lips as his mind wandered into scenarios where Arthur was King and peace was an everyday occurrence.

“Gaius?” The door banged open and Gwen rushed in, her face was flushed.

Merlin jumped at the sudden sound and then tensed as he took in her expression. “He’s not here. What is it, Gwen? What has happened?”

“It’s Morgana,” Gwen said desperately, then her lips pressed together, “I really should speak to Gaius about it.” Gwen was being strangely reticent.

“Has something happened to Morgana? I can fetch him, he’s with Uther if I interrupt Uther will understand if it’s about Morgana.”

Gwen’s eyes opened wider than Merlin had ever seen them. “No, no don’t involve Uther.”

“Why not? If Morgana needs help-.”

“She doesn’t,” Gwen interrupted, “I mean, not right away. She had a headache that’s all and I thought Gaius should look at her.”

Merlin frowned, “she’s had headaches before.” He knew they were related to her magic, he’d thought between learning control and her bracelet that Morgana was free of them. Was she developing a new power? Or was this instead a ruse by Morgana to get Gaius to her chambers in order to tell him something in private? Was something going on that they should know? Either way, he better find out. “I’ll take her a tonic,” he said decidedly.

“No Merlin don’t!” Gwen said shaking her head several times.

“Why not?” Merlin uttered again, “Gwen you’re not making much sense.”

“I know,” Gwen wailed, “I don’t know if I should say something.”

Gwen was biting her lip and wringing the material on her dress. Merlin realised Gwen couldn’t possibly be this distressed over a simple headache. He swallowed hard as the thought occurred. Could it be that Gwen had discovered Morgana’s magic? “I’m Morgana’s friend, Gwen, I’m your friend. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on.”

Gwen seemed to focus on him more clearly and after a moment nodded. “I went to see Morgana, to see if she wanted something before I left. I knew she had a headache this morning. She did something, said something and she didn’t remember doing it.”  

“Oh,” Merlin said simply, “if she had a headache perhaps she just forgot or was mumbling to herself.”

“No,” Gwen cried indignantly, “that’s not it at all! What she said couldn’t. . .” Gwen trailed and then visibly reigned herself in. “No, maybe you’re right Merlin. I was just overreacting. Headaches can do strange things I suppose.”

Gwen managed a small smile but Merlin couldn’t return it. He’d never known Gwen to lie before and she wasn’t very convincing. Something was going on but she didn’t feel she could tell him about it. “You can wait here for Gaius if you want,” he offered, “I’m sure he won’t be too long.”

Gwen had a distant look in her eyes. “No, no need. Morgana didn’t want Gaius and I was just being overprotective. I think I’ll return to my home. I have some errands. Everything’s fine Merlin, really.”

Merlin nodded slowly. It clearly wasn’t but Gwen was best to let go. Merlin would get his answers with Morgana.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Merlin did not waste time, as soon as Gwen left he headed for Morgana’s chambers only she wasn’t there. He rubbed his forehead in thought. Arthur would be getting impatient for his meal by now and Merlin couldn’t afford to delay much further. He had no idea where else to look, perhaps the throne room? There were no meetings in there today and Uther was not holding court so it didn’t seem very likely. Sometimes he’d seen her walking the grounds or the halls but she did that with Gwen by her side. Where else would a lady of the court spend her time? Merlin had no answer, he knew only where knights and royal prats spent their hours.

He was just concluding that he would have to leave this until later when the lady in question appeared. Her eyes met his and she hurried in his direction.

“Merlin,” she said in a hushed urgent tone, “I think I’ve done something awful.” She opened her chamber door and pulled him in with her. She closed the door, shutting them in.

Merlin’s throat constricted in panic. It was ridiculous, he was a powerful sorcerer with no need to fear Morgana or what she had done but she did unnerve him looking at him with those green eyes so full of woe and pleading while claiming she’d done something awful . . . again. “to Gwen?” He assumed.

“Yes!” Morgana exclaimed, “How did you know?”

“She came to Gaius, I was there.”

“What did she tell him?”

“Nothing, he wasn’t there. He’d gone to see Uther.”

“So she told you,” Morgana confirmed with a small nod of acceptance.

“Not really. She said something about you forgetting what you’d said.”

Morgana sagged, “She didn’t actually tell you what it was I said?”

“No, what did you say?”

“I don’t know,” Morgana admitted.

Merlin frowned, he didn’t have time for this conversation to take the same fruitless course as Gwen’s had. “What do you know What awful thing do you think you did?”

Morgana put her hand over her mouth, her delicate brows pulled downward as she thought. “I don’t know what happened exactly. One minute I was knocking the ink bottle the next Gwen is staring at me like I’d told her bad news and ink is all over her arm and my hands. I have a terrible feeling,” Morgana paused and lowered her voice, “that I’ve used my seer powers.”

“Oh,” Merlin said seriously. “Don’t you usually have dreams?”

“Yes and I used to get headaches when I avoided them and I had a terrible headache this morning but after being with Gwen it’s gone. I think I grabbed her arm, I must have said something to her that was awful. The look on her face Merlin . . .” Morgana blinked a few times.

Merlin felt a sharp jolt of cold rush through his body though outwardly he remained frozen. What Morgana had said about grabbing Gwen’s arm stirred a memory. She’d done it to him once, taken his arm just after he’d saved Arthur from the questing beast, Morgana had warned him to beware, that it was only the beginning. He’d been disturbed at the time by her piercing eyes, her strange words that seemed to know something she shouldn’t, he’d shrugged her away but later he learned his mother had fallen deathly ill due to the bargain with Nimueh, Gaius had tried to exchange his life for hers and ultimately Merlin had sought out and murdered Nimueh . . .yes murdered. He didn’t shy away from the acknowledgement. There were reasons, Gaius’ life and his own but still, he wondered if he could have done things differently. He hadn’t reacted out of protection, he’d been angry. Despite her evilness, he felt guilt, even some remorse and a whole lot of horror that his powers could be so destructive, so easily. Morgana’s warning though, had not crossed his mind again, considering everything, and Morgana had never mentioned it again herself. Was it possible she didn’t remember it? If she’d done the same to Gwen what did that mean? Was she warning Gwen? Gwen couldn’t possibly be on a dangerous path anything like his – could she?

“Are you sure you can’t remember what you said?” Merlin asked.

“No, not a thing but I’m worried Merlin. Why Gwen? I knew the headache was building, it wouldn’t go. I thought I’d end up dreaming. I didn’t know I could do this.” Morgana was starting to tremble, she rubbed her arms. “Maybe you can get Gwen to tell you what I said or maybe she’ll tell Gaius. Try Merlin, try she might need help.”

Merlin kept his face impassive, “I’ll try.”

“Thank you, Merlin,” Morgana said appearing relieved.

She opened the door, Merlin stepped out right into the way of Arthur Pendragon.

“Merlin, what are you doing here?” Arthur demanded.

“Er . . .” Merlin dithered.

“Delivering me a tonic,” Morgana cut in quickly, “I have a dreadful headache. I sent Gwen to Gaius but he was attending elsewhere. Merlin offered to bring it to me.”

“Right. That was good of him,” Arthur shot Merlin a look that spoke of suspicion only Merlin did not know what it was Arthur was suspecting him of. “And Gwen.”

“Yes, Gwen is very good to me.”

Arthur nodded his head suddenly lost for words.

Merlin did nothing to hide his amused smile. Gwen’s name was all it took to fluster Arthur these days.

“Did you come here for a reason?”

“Yes, I had word from Lord Nestod that they’ll be attending the tournament. A bit late on the response I know.”

“I’ll add it to the numbers.”

“Anything else?”

“No, I just thought I would walk up here while I was waiting for my lunch to arrive,” Arthur’s comment was pointed.

“I usually walk after my meals,” Morgana quipped, “but then I suppose you need all the exercise you can get before the tournament.”

Arthur pulled a face at her.

Merlin grinned again.

Arthur caught sight of it. “She’s right. I do have a tournament coming up. We need to brush up on your skills Merlin, an extra hour of mace work this evening will sort you out.”

“Arthur,” Morgana began to protest.

Merlin shook his head at her. “It’s fine milady. I’m honoured that Arthur is willing to give up his stratagem practice with Sir Leon just to help out a servant.”

“Is that this evening? Right, we’ll put the mace off until tomorrow evening. Morgana,” Arthur nodded farewell.

“Arthur,” she returned, “Merlin,” she added.

“Milady,” Merlin nodded.

Sorry, she mouthed.

Worth it, he mouthed back with a mischievous grin, they held their gaze just long enough for their amusement to disappear as they remembered Gwen. Morgana’s face fell just as his own smile slipped. Gwen, he mouthed again conveying with his expression what he hoped was reassurance.

She gave the slightest of acknowledgements as he turned back and followed Arthur.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter Text

Gwen hurried through the lower town desperate to reach the safety of her home. She wished now she had made some excuse to Morgana and gone directly home instead of panicking and heading to Gaius. It had been a mistake to show her alarm to Morgana and again to Merlin even as it would have been a mistake to tell Gaius. She supposed past habits that had driven her to seek Gaius, he’d always been the one to seek when Morgana’s nightmares and headaches had taken hold but this had been different. Gwen wasn’t sure if this time he could help Morgana . . . or if he needed to. Gwen had to admit that she was less frightened for Morgana than she was of her.  

Gwen replaced the frown that had come over her face with a polite but forced smile as she passed her neighbours, she made a point of hurrying purposefully so they wouldn’t detain her. Almost there, almost to safety . . . or was it? She came around the corner and almost collided with someone in chain mail.

“Arthur!” she exclaimed stepping back, heat rising to her cheeks she realised her mistake. “Prince Arthur,” she corrected quickly collecting herself, “sire,” she curtsied, inwardly wincing at her awkward recovery. She caught sight of Sir Leon just behind the prince, looking a little curiously at her. Or perhaps he was only stunned by her barrelling about through the lower town.

“Guinevere,” Arthur acknowledged, he gave her once over before his eyes settled upon her face and stared at it a moment seeming to decide something. “Are you all right?”

Gwen had noted that although Arthur was often oblivious to the moods of others occasionally he had an unnatural insight into her distress and usually at the most inopportune times. Perhaps Merlin had rubbed off on him – she found she had to be super guarded around Merlin as well. She pulled her lips into a small smile, “I’m fine, thank you sire.” She saw the slight pursing of his lips, he didn’t believe her. She didn’t like lying to him, he deserved the truth, he’d probably understand – maybe. “I’ve just got a headache,” she added, feeling it was likely going to be true soon. “I was heading home.”

“Let me walk you,” Arthur insisted.

“That’s not necessary –.” Gwen began.

“It is,” he said warmly before his tone changed, “I assure you. I don’t need Morgana chiding me over my unchivalrous behaviour if she finds out I left you feeling in in the middle of the lower town. Leon you go on to the next few houses. I’ll catch up.”

“Yes sire,” Leon bowed giving no sign that he thought it odd behaviour from Arthur.

Gwen watched him go before it occurred to her to wonder why it was Arthur was searching houses. “What’s going on?” Gwen’s heart lept into her mouth. What if what Morgana had said was true? What if it were happening now?

“Nothing really, just following up on a few requests now that father is on the mend. The lower east water pump has been sticking and the markets want another. We’re moving some residents with promises of better homes but it takes some convincing.”

Gwen held in a sigh of relief. “Oh, yes the pump hasn’t worked very well for some time.”

“You should have let me know about the pump Gwen, I’d have done something sooner.”

Gwen smiled in amusement, “I did let you know just before Morgana was found, I think that is how it came to be on your list.”

“Oh,” Arthur said thinking it over.

She smiled at him, “everyone understood how stretched resources were.”

“Hmm, yes even the bandits,” Arthur frowned, “they still seem to think so.”

“Bandits,” Gwen repeated feeling her throat close.

Arthur didn’t seem to notice. His face brightened, “But things will change now Morgana is back, father is well. I’ll have more time to sort the town’s matters and our borders. Shall we?” Arthur invited to her walk.

Gwen opened her mouth to point out the obvious but decided against it as she walked all of four steps to her door.

“Ah,” Arthur looked at it and around seeming to finally place himself. “Well, perhaps I should see you inside?”

Gwen’s heart began to race, was Arthur trying to get a little more time with her? Was he trying to make an opportunity to kiss her again? She’d almost given up thoughts that he still cared. He’d been so busy and distracted over the past year with Morgana’s disappearance and she had been working in other parts of the castle. He’d taken a few moments to update her on Morgana’s search but she’d never been sure it wasn’t just chivalry. She shouldn’t concede to his offer, it would not be proper if he was seen to be entering her home alone and then she had another thought. Morgana’s warning. “No!” Gwen found herself stating sharply. His eyes opened wide at her startling outburst.

“That is,” she said flailing for more explanation, “it’s messy.”

“I doubt that,” Arthur replied looking reproached, “I know how tidy you are.”

Gwen couldn’t bear him to think she was rejecting him. “And people are watching,” Gwen whispered.

Arthur’s gaze softened and sought hers gently, “And if there wasn’t?”

Gwen’s heart sighed happily, “I’d probably say yes.” It was a scandalous thing to say but it was said.

“Still?” Arthur asked.

She knew what he meant, after all this time did she still feel the same. She nodded.

“Me too,” he said.

She smiled but sadly, he seemed to share the sentiment. They stood there a moment, he didn’t appear to know what else to say, neither did she. What could they say at a time like this, in the lower town.

“Well,” Arthur cleared his throat, “I better catch up to Leon. Good day Guinevere, I hope you feel better.”

“Thankyou, I’m sure I just need a rest. Good day, Prince Arthur.”

Gwen watched as Arthur hesitated just a moment longer than he should before he turned to go. She watched him feeling equally reluctant at their parting. A prince being interested in her was still very astounding, she didn’t let herself think often about what it could mean for her because there were so many things in the way and because . . . it hurt.

She turned back to her door almost forgetting what had driven her home but the sight of her door, normal to all outward appearance brought the anxiety back. It was shut, as it should be and yet Gwen hesitated as she put out her hand to push open the door. She swung it open gently and halted on the threshold, she leant forward. “Hello? Is. . . is someone there?” There was no response, no sound from beyond. She shouldn’t expect there to be.

She sighed, relieved, disappointed she wasn’t sure. Stepping further in she could see all her things in their usual places, no sight of anyone else’s belongings. Well, there you go, she chided herself, Morgana’s words were probably nothing. Gwen snatched up a broom knowing her agitation needed a physical outlet while she thought things through.

What was she going to do about Morgana? Things with Morgana had been tense between them ever since the noblewoman had been rescued and returned to Camelot. Gwen blamed herself, she’d been so frightened about what Morgana might have discovered during her time with the bandits that even when it appeared as if Morgana either didn’t know or had decided to say not to say anything Gwen had not been able to feel at ease. As the weeks passed she had almost rid herself of the anxiety when Morgana had spoken those strange words. At first Gwen thought she’d understood some of Morgana’s words but then Gwen had caught the look in Morgana’s eyes, so unnerving, so . . . unnatural and the words had become more frightening, more confusing.  

Then just as suddenly Morgana seemed dazed and claimed not to remember what she’d said. Maybe she didn’t. Maybe it was as Merlin said, some sort of waking nightmare that just happened to make enough sense to alarm anyone with the sort of secrets Gwen held. After all Morgana couldn’t possibly know the future. Gwen clutched the broom hard, could she?

Morgana did have strange dreams; Gwen had noticed things Morgana spoke about sometimes related to what befell Camelot later. But it was just coincidence, so many things happened in and to Camelot, that Morgana’s natural fears just happened to eventuate, it was not anything to do with . . . sorcery. Gwen shuddered. Her father had got involved with sorcerers and it led to his death, sorcery had tried to take the kingdom on more than one occasion, Arthur’s life had been threatened by it, magic had brought famine and death, it had left them helpless and asleep while Morgana was snatched. Gwen was firm in her thought. Sorcery clearly tainted people, nothing good had ever come of it. Surely Morgana thought so too after all she’d been through for the last year and Gwen supposed the proof was that the noblewoman had seemed to reconcile easily with Uther.

Gwen sunk into her dining chair realising that didn’t bode well for herself. There was one thing Morgana had said among the other warnings that Gwen knew was correct – Gwen had decisions to make and they were decisions about how to go forward. Should she tell Morgana everything? Would it mend this uneasiness between them? Could she trust Morgana to understand? Or had Morgana so changed due to her captivity that it would only end in disaster? Gwen wished there was someone to ask but she was alone in her cottage. There was no one here – despite Morgana’s predictions.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Morgana rode through the forest eager to reach Morgause. She had so much to tell, to ask and it seemed a lifetime since she had seen Morgause, although it had been but half a moon cycle.

Morgana reminded herself that certain topics should remain unspoken – Merlin in particular. She understood Morgause’s caution in not trusting strangers but she was also aware of her sister's slightly snobbish attitude towards servants. There was nothing to tell about Merlin in any case apart from the incident with Gwen. Gwen who had not attended her since that afternoon and sent other maids in her stead claiming illness. Morgana was still uncertain about how to handle it. She wasn’t sure at all what had frightened Gwen or whether Gwen knew what had happened. She didn’t know if she should confront Gwen or let things play out. It was certainly something she wanted to discuss with Morgause but there was another more plaguing matter now. Morgana gripped the reigns feeling angry and ill.

The cave was near and Morgana slowed looking for a suitable place to tie her horse. She was thankful it was so easy to leave the castle under the pretence of a ride because the walk would have left her far less time with her sister.   

“Morgause?” Morgana queried telepathically mindful that stealth and warning were always warranted.

“Around here sister,” Morgause spoke aloud.

Morgana followed the sound and discovered Morgause sitting in a patch of sunshine, she was reading but placed the book down at once and stood to greet her sister with open arms.

“Come,” Morgause smiled and indicated that Morgana should sit, “it is too nice to be inside and winter's chill will be here before long.”

Morgana settled herself. It was a pleasant day with enough warmth that the breeze was refreshing and not at all cold. She found herself already feeling more relaxed. “It is so good to see you Morgause.”

“Ah,” Morgause seemed to understand the tone, “how goes it then sister?”

Morgana did not sigh although it was her first impulse. “Tediously, irritatingly,” she said, “but first tell me how you fare, is all well here? Are you much put out?” Morgana did not want to immediately lay her problems out when Morgause had already done so much for her.

Morgause’s smile broadened, “Put out? Not at all. As you see, I enjoy the pleasures of sunlight and freedom. In poor weather perhaps I have reason to complain a little but not so much that would drive me away. My concern is all you. I take it Uther has recovered and not given you trouble?”

“Uther,” Morgana huffed, perhaps it was best to start there. “No. No trouble. Gaius kept Uther sedated for some days after his recovery – to keep up the ruse of exhaustion.” Morgana explained, “I kept watch over him, calling Gaius whenever he stirred. It was not easy, sometimes I still thought of his death but I held back for Arthur’s sake. Finally, we released him from the sedation and he returned to his duties in the last few days. Last night I was forced to resume having dinner with him.” Morgana could not help the displeasure in her tone. “I thought it would be difficult to pretend but I found old habits so easy to pick up again. We make small talk, he smiles, I smile. Nothing of value is said, nothing is demanded of me or expected of me.”

“There are many who would not lament that,” Morgause said but it was not a rebuke, it was a prompt, a query even as to why it irked Morgana so.

“I know how it must sound,” Morgana snapped taking to her feet, “I know everyone thinks I’m spoiled and that I want for nothing. That a dinner with the king is an honour but I am a prisoner in Camelot, well fed, well dressed but a prisoner nonetheless!”

Morgause looked stunned at the outburst. “Forgive me Morgana I was not implying-.”

Morgana’s crossed arms fell back to her sides, “no sister,” Morgana said her voice softening, “It is I who should apologise. I did not mean to snap at you, I know you do not think that way of me, it’s just this whole situation is so . . .” Morgana paused as she thought of how to voice the realisation that had come upon her. She sighed, sat again and decided to start again. “At the dinner Uther thanked me for the care I gave him while he was unwell. He was so sure I’d taken on the vigil out of devotion. Then he began to talk of making plans for my birthday next month.”

“Your birthday?” Morgause gave a delicate frown, she could not be expected to make the connection.

Morgana nodded. “I knew Uther was a tyrant but I never quite understood how selfish he was. When I had dinner with him I found myself finally understanding exactly what it is Uther expects from me, has always expected from me.” She did not disguise the bitterness in her tone. “I used to fear birthdays because I thought they served as reminders to Uther that I was of marriageable age. I thought I would someday find he’d arranged to send me off with some noble whose loyalty needed shoring up. But last night, at dinner I realised why it is Uther had not married me off some years ago.”

Morgause’s eyes darkened and her expression became cold, “what are you saying, Morgana?”

“Oh nothing like that,” Morgana snorted in disgust, balking at the mere idea. “Or not much like. What he has in me is a convenient captive companion. Someone to run his errands, plan his feasts, creating comfort and conversation. A sort of half daughter, half slave. A ward, reliant on him for her keep. I think he has always had in mind that I shall care for him in his old age. His prisoner until the end of his years or mine!”

“You certainly do not fear that?” Morgause queried aghast.

“Fear?” Morgana shook her head firmly. “No, he cannot keep me forever now but it sickens me to think how . . . ” Morgana looked at the horizon, “things might have gone. To know that I was so vulnerable, that if I hadn’t met you I should have spent my entire life in fear and servitude to someone so unworthy.”

Morgause expression was comforting. “You would have found a way out.”

“I’m not so sure,” Morgana said quietly. “Camelot even now ensnares me.” Morgana was aware herself of the eldritch tone she’d taken and the implication alarmed her.

Morgause shifted uncomfortably too as if the seer power also upset her. Morgana had never seen Morgause disturbed by any magic.

“Morgana,” Morgause said seriously, “there is something I must tell you about our last parting.”

Morgana felt her mouth go dry, her magic flared as if to burst from her skin. “I did something, I said something!”

“Yes,” Morgause seemed relieved, “do you remember?” She was eager now and pleased.

Morgana shook her head slowly. “Not really, I just knew that I had. This is worse than I thought,” Morgana pushed the hair back from her face.

Always observant Morgause seemed to pick up immediately that there was more to it. “What do you mean?”

Morgana had almost convinced herself that her seer’s outburst with Gwen was a one-off, something vital Gwen needed to know but she had done it to Morgause as well. Suddenly fear gripped Morgana. “What did I tell you?”

Morgause fixed her eyes on Morgana firmly, “You told me to seek the sun.”

Morgana frowned. “The sun?” she said in disbelief. “Is that all?”

“In a funeral pyre,” Morgause stated plainly.

Morgana gasped and felt her blood run cold. “What does that mean?”

“I had hoped you could tell me,” Morgause urged, eyes resting expectantly but she did not have a look of alarm.

“Sister, I think you should leave Camelot,” Morgana decided.

Morgause’s brows rose. “You think this pyre is of Uther’s making?”

“It makes sense,” Morgana agreed.

“No,” Morgause shook her head calmly, “I think it has some other meaning.”

“What else could it mean?” Morgana cried.

“Only the future can tell.” Morgause took Morgana’s hands comfortingly, “This is not the first time you have spoken to me with your powers. Twice before you sent us from danger and you were very clear that we should leave. This is something else, something that you can not tell me plainly either because you do not know or because I do not.”

Morgana huffed. “I wish I did not have these powers if they are going to be so vague.”

“These powers are a part of you. I fear you are endangering yourself by ignoring this part of your magic Morgana.”

Morgana pursed her lips, ready to confess. “I’ve already used them in Camelot.”

Morgause’s expression was horrified. “In Uther’s presence?”

“No,” Morgana reassured quickly, “with Gwen, my maidservant.”

Morgause relaxed slightly though she still frowned. “Does she know what they are?”

“I don’t know. She was spooked. She was supposed to attend me last night and this morning but she sent someone else. Merlin has promised to try to find out what I said.”

“Merlin? Good. He continues to prove worthy of trust.”

It was fair praise from Morgause. Morgana tried not to appear too pleased, let Morgause see Merlin’s value for herself in her own time.  

Morgause continued to be thoughtful. “It is surprising that you should fall into trance twice in such a short time. Only powerful prophecies should be able to overcome your healing bracelet's powers. I doubt a serving girl warrants such which means . . .” she scrutinised Morgana seeming to weigh whether or not she could take the revelation.

“Which means?” Morgana prompted ignoring the insult to Gwen.

“You may be overriding it yourself for the sake of your friendship, unconsciously perhaps?”

Morgana felt a great uneasiness but it wasn’t because she believed Morgause. No, in fact Morgana felt a strange certainty that there was a lot more to her increased warnings than either of those options. There was something, some knowledge that she did not want to acknowledge, something that she instinctively knew was the reason but couldn’t yet put together. “What should I do?”

“You must embrace these powers so that they do not burst out of you uncontrolled. I should have pushed you earlier.”

Morgana shook her head. “I wasn’t ready or willing.” She wasn’t sure she was yet but there were added stakes. “But I can’t ignore them now, not when I’ve given warnings to Gwen and to you. I must do all I can to understand them, to find out more to help you. How should I start?”

“With your dreams.”

“Dreams again?” Morgana gulped.

“I am afraid so. They come naturally to you, it will be easier to start from there. Come let me teach you how to prepare.”

They entered the cave and Morgause ran through several steps and an incantation that would help Morgana with her control and awareness, however, none of it would be effective unless Morgana removed her bracelet. She turned it anxiously on her wrist. “I think I have it now, in any case, it will have to do. I’ve been too long already though I hate to go.”

“It is not forever,” Morgause reminded.

Morgana embraced her sister as they farewelled when she felt Morgause stiffen. Morgana pulled back “what is it?”

Morgause had no need to respond for Morgana heard noises outside.

“Lady Morgana!” A male voice called, “Lady Morgana?”

Morgana’s eyes opened wide in horror. “Sir Leon,” Morgana spoke telepathically to Morgause. She huffed, “a patrol must have seen my horse.”

“They cannot find you here with me,” Morgause mindspoke back.

“They cannot find you,” Morgana insisted back.

“Don’t worry, I will deal with them,” Morgause made for the exit of the cave but Morgana quickly stepped in front.

“No sister, if we ever hope to bring Arthur around, we cannot harm Camelot’s knights. He’d never forgive it,” Morgana thought hurriedly. “Leave it to me, I’ll lead them away.”

“Sister,” Morgause protested but it was no good. Morgana gave her a short, firm look of determination and Morgause shrugged with pursed lips – reluctantly accepting the choice. Morgana exited the cave.

Morgana didn’t exactly know what she was going to do or say but she knew that she had best keep the knights from Morgause and vice versa. The sunshine blinded her for a moment but she heard the sound of chain mail moving quite close.

“Lady Morgana!” Sir Leon exclaimed, “what are you doing here?”

Her vision had focused by now and she saw Sir Leon but only one other knight, not an entire patrol as she had feared. The knights stood not far from the cave and they had, as she suspected, found her horse and were leading it with their own. Morgana straightened herself as she answered Sir Leon’s question as simply as she could. “I was riding.”

“Riding?” Sir Leon wrinkled his brow, “did you fall?”

Morgana repressed an urge to scoff. For one thing, her horse had been tied, for another she had just exited a cave, agreeing that she’d fallen off would have been foolish. “I stopped to stretch my legs,” her claim was less absurd than his question but apparently not very convincing given the short distance she’d ridden.

He frowned harder.

It occurred to Morgana there was another excuse she could use, “don’t make me spell it out for you Sir Leon.”

He still wasn’t catching on.

She knew a blush was creeping into her cheeks which would only add to the authenticity of her statement. “Surely even the knights of Camelot find themselves seeking caves or. . . shrubbery from time to time.”

Finally the knight understood, “oh, um. I see.” He was blushing harder than she was. He was buying her story about relieving herself but it wasn’t getting him away from here and it didn’t explain why the knights were in the part of the forest.  

“Did Uther send you to find me?” Morgana asked though she didn’t think it was likely.  

“No, we’ve come to check the cave,” Leon explained. “We saw your horse.”

“The cave?” Morgana queried, anxiety rising.

Leon nodded. “Smugglers and bandits use it from time to time.”

Well wasn’t that just great? No wonder Morgause had found it so apt and dry for habitation. “Bandits,” Morgana repeated irritatingly, they were the cause of the more frequent patrols and the reason why Leon was here now.

“I didn’t mean to alarm you,” Sir Leon reassured.

Morgana had been about to deny any fear but instead she forced a quaver into her voice seeing an opportunity. “Bandits, after everything I . . .I, that is I think I’ll ride back now. My horse if you would Sir Leon,” she stretched her hands out for the reigns, making minute movements so her fingers appeared to tremble. She made a laugh that ended in a choke and lifted wide, helpless eyes to Leon.

It was a careful ploy, Sir Leon knew her well enough to know she was not easily frightened, nor inclined to show it if she was. So, she had to dither between pretending to be both brave and scared.

She was pretty sure the pleading eyes were what was going to cinch it, they seemed to be having the desired effect as Leon opened his mouth but the other knight interjected.

“This is Camelot, I am certain you’ll be safe riding back to the castle, it’s hardly far.” The man wasn’t offering assurances as much as he was being patronising, full of the self-importance inexperienced knights often had about Camelot.

It took Morgana a great deal of effort not to shoot him a withering glare or retort with some barb about just how unsafe Camelot really was – and of course, she knew this for a fact. Instead, she pasted a demure smile. “You’re right of course,” she said sweetly, “as Uther’s ward,” she carefully made the reminder, “I know how he values the safety of his kingdom and citizens. How vigilant he is. Your patrol is important to that safety, far more important than my silly fears. I’m sure King Uther will think so.”

Sir Leon’s brows twitched a little and Morgana chided herself. She shouldn’t have been so obvious using terms such as silly fears. Leon seemed to have guessed he was being played and must soon begin to wonder why and that could be disastrous but Morgana could not give up or he and his compatriot would not leave this place alive.

“In my defence, I have been kidnapped three times from Camelot.” She spoke levelly, maintaining eye contact with Leon the entire time and to her own surprise found that her eyes had welled a little. Two of the three times she’d actually gone of her own accord but she had been captured with Gwen once. She’d never forgotten the fear of what might have occurred had she not escaped, nor the awful, lonely, terrifying days after when she thought of Gwen harmed or dead nor the things she’d feared happened to Gwen that Gwen had assured her did not. And now things with Gwen were so strained and she didn’t know if they could be fixed. Morgana dropped her eyes, trying to focus back on the here and now and the lives of these men.

Sir Leon reached up and patted Morgana’s horse on the nose. “I would not presume to guess the King’s wishes but I would feel better if we accompanied you back to the castle.”   

“Thank you,” Morgana said softly and she meant it. For Leon’s sake, for the irksome knight beside him, for Arthur’s sake and her own.

He nodded just once and his eyes moved towards his own horse.

Suddenly, Morgana got the nasty sensation that her seer's powers wanted her to say something to him, she quelled it. Not Sir Leon, not now. The feeling subsided long enough for her to quickly relay to Morgause what had occurred between herself and the knights and a warning to leave the cave, though she said nothing of the rising seer power. Sir Leon mounted his horse and indicated to his companion that he should lead the way and Leon passed out of Morgana’s sight and took up the rear. Morgana sat uneasily in the saddle, the seer's power had gone quiet again, seeming to obey her but the closer they drew to the citadel the more turbulent she felt her powers were. Morgana remembered what she had said to Morgause earlier. Even now Camelot ensnares me.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter Text

Merlin sagged against the shovel and sighed as his eyes travelled the dirty stables. Of all the jobs he did for Arthur this one bothered him most. It took time away from Arthur’s protection and it was tiring and tedious and unlike most of his other jobs, this one seemed without purpose – in the greater scheme that was. He straightened and looked for the best spot to begin. Merlin frowned harder as he heard horse hooves approaching and knights' armour clanking. The royal stables were reserved for the royal horses and household only. Merlin had left Arthur pouring over maps and council notes and Uther rarely went for rides these days so there was no reason that anyone armoured should be coming this way. Merlin waited anxiously, hearing the horses halt at the entrance though he could not yet see who it was.

“Thankyou Sir Leon, Sir Hernley for the escort.” Merlin relaxed as he heard Morgana’s voice.  “I’m sure you must think me terribly silly,” she continued. “I feel quite embarrassed and not at all afraid now. I hope you will not hold it too much against me.”

“Not at all milady. We are glad to be of service.” Sir Leon responded.

“The woods will soon be rid of their kind,” said another – perhaps sir Hernley.

Merlin didn’t like the sound of that. Were they talking about magic users?

“Yes, of course.” Morgana seemed to be conceding and though there was nothing but sweetness in her tone Merlin was sure she could not feel that way. “I’m quite fine now,” Morgana continued, “thankyou again sir knights.”

“Milady,” Sir Leon and Hernley spoke one after the other and Merlin heard their horses' shoes clattering against the cobbles before the sound retreated but the soft clinking of a single horse got louder and the doorway of the stable darkened as a horse and figure moved across the threshold.

Merlin had time to worry and develop feelings of irritation before Morgana fully entered. What was Morgana doing with the knights? What had their conversation meant? Were magic users in danger? What was Morgana up to now or what had she gotten herself into?

The lady in question was leading her horse but halted suddenly as her vision apparently adjusted. “Merlin!” She said in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

Merlin didn’t respond to her question. Did it really need answering when he was surrounded by manure? “What’s going on with you?” he retorted instead. Perhaps he should not have been so blunt. His destiny, was, after all, apparently also to ensure that she remained on good terms with Arthur but Merlin was feeling the weariness today of so many errands and the stables were making him grumpy. He was tired of playing it coy and careful and besides so much was already exposed between them.

“Oh,” Morgana said softly, “er . . .” she looked around, Merlin guessed to ascertain if it was safe to speak. “Where’s the stable hand?”

Merlin shook his head impatiently. “Not here.”

Morgana’s eyebrows raised dramatically, “not here? What do you mean not here?”

Merlin didn’t see why she should be so shocked, “he had an errand.”

“It’s not that I care,” Morgana continued dismissively, “Elack is a poor hand, I never let him touch Pandora,” Morgana stroked the neck of her horse soothingly. “I so much prefer when Tyr is working, he’s much better with the horses. . .” she trailed off as if some thought disturbed her, “he’s good to them.”

Merlin had noted the difference between the two stablehands himself. Tyr took care in all his activities, with the tack and the horses but Merlin couldn’t say much about Elack at all. Elack took off to run errands whenever Merlin arrived. Merlin didn’t think he’d seen the man do much work at all. Tyr did puzzle Merlin though, the lad always seemed so awkward whenever Merlin came into clean. Tyr would busy himself with other jobs and seemed quite embarrassed by Merlin’s presence yet he was much more relaxed when Merlin merely came to fetch something.

“You’re kind to him aren’t you Merlin?” Morgana said suddenly seeming with great concern, “To Tyr, I mean. I’m sure you are. Do you think Elack is unfair to him or perhaps it’s Uther?”

Merlin didn’t know what had brought about this sudden concern for Tyr, was Morgana just trying to avoid telling him what she’d been up to? “I haven’t heard him complain.  Are you going to tell me what happened out there with Leon?”

Morgana seemed to shrug off whatever was bothering her about Tyr. “Oh, it’s silly really” Morgana dropped her eyes back to her horse and began to fiddle with the saddle. “I was visiting M-.” She looked around again and lowered her voice obviously thinking better of stating Morgause’s name aloud. “My  sister.”

“She’s still around then?” Merlin said unable to keep the disapproval out his voice.

“Of course,” Morgana said firmly. “She’s not a threat Merlin, I promise. It’s good of her to be nearby, I still need much guidance but it is risky.” Morgana seemed to ponder this for a moment. “The patrol saw my horse, they were coming to check the caves. I had to do something to ensure secrecy and everyone’s safety so I feigned fear of the bandits and insisted on an escort back. I am afraid I had to resort to pretending to feel faint at one point to ensure they took me all the way to the citadel. I can’t imagine how pathetic I must have seemed,” she gave an embarrassed laugh, “but I hope it gave my sister enough time to relocate.” Morgana bit at her lip a moment. “I’m afraid you were worried for nothing. Thanks for your concern though,” she added, a small smile gracing her lips.

“Of course,” Merlin stammered, he felt mildly ashamed. He hadn’t been concerned for her. His demands to know what happened were suspicion, it had never even occurred to him to be worried for her, though he supposed her travelling off to see Morgause did expose Morgana to possible bandit attacks and even with her abilities there was the risk of being caught unawares. He was still finding it difficult to trust her although she didn’t seem to be aware of it. Merlin didn’t quite understand his own reasons but he had noticed he couldn’t seem to settle in her presence.

Morgana had unstrapped the saddle from her horse and was struggling to lift it off. Merlin stepped forward automatically, servant instincts kicking in. “Here let me.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, her eyes skittered over his briefly before she stepped back and sat down on the nearest bale and dropped them to the hands in her lap.

Her movement was graceful but slow and Merlin suddenly noticed how pale and tired she looked. Had she been that drawn last time he’d seen her? “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” she said with a dismissive half laugh, “I guess I haven’t quite regained my strength from my time with the bandits. It’s not been an easy few weeks.”

Merlin recalled that Gaius had kept her holed up with Uther. It couldn’t have been pleasant.

“Have you had any luck with Gwen?” Morgana asked quickly diverting the subject.

“No,” Merlin answered, he could see how genuinely concerned Morgana was. “Gaius tried but she passed it off as nothing. We’ll keep trying though.”

Morgana sighed. “I’m thinking of telling her everything.”

“What!” Merlin cried. “No, you can’t.”

Morgana lifted her head, her eyes large. “Why not?”

“You need to keep your powers a secret. It’s too dangerous.” Merlin recalled the many times Gaius had said as much to him. It was strange to hear it coming from his own voice.

“I can’t think of myself when Gwen’s life might be at stake Merlin,” Morgana declared distressed. “I spoke to Morgause she said I’ve had these seer trances before in times of warning. If I tell Gwen the truth it might help her.”

Morgana had given him a warning too long ago. Still, Merlin shook his head, instantly able to articulate his reasoning. “You can’t. I understand you wanting to but you won’t just be putting yourself in danger but Gwen as well, even if it helps in the short term. It’s a difficult secret to bear. I don’t think Gwen should be put in that position.”

“Do you feel that way?” Morgana asked suddenly, sounding more concerned than hurt.

Merlin didn’t know if he’d ever had Morgana’s compassion resting on him so openly, it was unnerving. Those gentle green eyes that somehow also probed. “No, it’s different for me,” Merlin answered offhandedly, it was only as he saw her expression move towards puzzlement he realised his mistake. “I’m from Ealdor,” he hurriedly added to cover.

“Oh yes,” Morgana said sadly, “Your friend, Will.”

That hadn’t been what Merlin meant but he was touched she remembered Will and his name. “Ealdor didn’t exactly welcome magic but it was removed from a lot of Camelot’s beliefs.”

“I’m sure it must have been still difficult for him, all alone,” Morgana said thoughtfully. “He was lucky to have you.”

Merlin grimaced internally. “I was the lucky one, to have him as a friend.”

Morgana’s eyes were glassy as they rested on Merlin full of sympathy and something that looked like admiration. He certainly didn’t deserve that. Will did. Will had been the courageous one, keeping Merlin’s secret until the end. Will had been the one who accepted magic and Merlin so easily. Merlin coughed and moved towards the horse brushes and began to work on Pandora.  

Morgana remained where she was and pushed her hair back over her shoulder. “I don’t know if you can understand Merlin but having someone to share that secret with is such a comfort. I used to feel suffocated, like I couldn’t escape and so alone but just knowing that you and my sister know about me, it helps somehow. Even still there are times . . .” she sighed as she trailed and shook her head helplessly. “But you’re right. I shouldn’t put Gwen in that position. I’m sorry it fell to you again Merlin, especially after Will.”

Merlin could feel the guilt squirming away inside him. Now Morgana was making out as if he was carrying a burden of her making as if keeping the secret of her powers was some sort of heroic act he was doing for her. It wasn’t. It was true that she had caused difficulties recently but the facts were they were both victims of circumstance. Of Uther’s unjust laws. He suddenly felt angry. “No,” Merlin said firmly, “It’s not your fault and I’m glad it was me.” He softened his tone. “Really.”

She smiled. “That’s very good of you to say. I know you haven’t always agreed with my choices.”

“No,” Merlin admitted “but I do understand them.” He did and he wanted to tell her how much but perhaps that would be adding to Morgana’s burdens. If he told her of his own powers she would have two secrets to bear. What sort of man would he be if he did that to her for his own ease?

Her eyes had been resting on him, watching. He saw something for a moment in them. Some sort of yearning and he felt his heart quicken as she stood and walked towards him. He did nothing not sure why he felt a slight urge to ward her off or possibly not. A passing thought, that irritated his pride in some way due to the indecisiveness but was dismissed as soon as she reached past him to take another horse brush. He relaxed again as she joined in brushing Pandora.

 “I just wish I knew what to do about Gwen,” Morgana sighed. “I’m so worried for her.”

“I’ll look out for her,” Merlin reassured. “You, me, Gaius and Arthur between the four of us I’m sure she’ll be fine. We’ll make sure she is.”

“Arthur?” Morgana raised her brows incredulously.

“Well, I’m sure he would if we needed him,” Merlin shrugged.

“He did go after her that time she and I were kidnapped,” Morgana said thoughtfully.

Merlin hoped he hadn’t said too much. Arthur’s confidence was important.

“Against Uther’s judgement too,” Morgana was thinking a lot about it.

“He’s not like Uther,” Merlin pointed out.

“I hope not. Time will tell.”

Merlin could see Morgana was still unconvinced on that score but at least he’d diverted her thoughts from Arthur and Gwen.

They continued to work in companionable silence for a while until Pandora was looking clean and content.  

Morgana gave the horse an affectionate pat before encouraging Pandora towards the stall. Morgana stood a moment looking uncertain and reluctant. “Well, I better get back. I have more to do for the melee preparations. You’re welcome to walk with me Merlin if you’re finished here?”

“Uh, no.” Merlin grimaced gesturing about at the filthy surrounds.

Morgana pulled a face. “No, I suppose not. Arthur shouldn’t be sending you all the time to deal with this anyway, he really should do it himself once in a while.”

“The stables?” Merlin half choked, half laughed at the outrageous suggestion of Arthur mucking stables.

“Certainly. It’s his kingdom after all.” Morgana did not miss a beat and seemed entirely serious. “He ought to be seen by the citizens not only to assert his authority and command their respect but by being a part of their lives from time to time. Hearing their complaints, rebuking their bad behaviour, praising them for their work. A strong kingdom is something people want to be a part of. A prince who can’t even be bothered to check if his stable hands are doing their jobs does not inspire loyalty or pride.”

“I guess,” Merlin acknowledged the latter part. He puzzled over her statements not entirely seeing how cleaning the stables fitted into things.

Morgana sighed, “I haven’t been a good role model either I suppose. When I had nightmares, I was so tired and weak that I let Gwen do too much but not anymore. Now that I’m well I intend on inspecting the laundry and the kitchens myself to see their done to standard and to praise those doing a good job. Incidentally, who did Uther send to do that when I was gone? Was it Gwen? You?”

Merlin shook his head. “I don’t know.” His mouth had gone dry as he listened to her. He realised she thought his role here was to check the stables were being cleaned – not to actually clean them but the worst of the implication was that Merlin started to wonder if she was right.

Morgana was about to say something more when they heard a sound from the door. It was Elack.

“Milady Morgana,” he said in shock, horror in his tone, looking exactly as someone might if they had just been caught not at their post. Merlin found his suspicions about Elack’s duties and his own, getting stronger. The lazy stablehand’s eyes darted to Merlin worry clearly displayed.

“Elack,” Morgana returned unenthusiastically. “Well, thank you again Merlin.”

“Milady,” Merlin bowed slightly and watched her depart. He turned back to Elack. It was time to clarify a few things.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Merlin hummed a little as he flipped through a few of Gaius books.

“You’re here early,” Gaius commented. “Is Arthur in a meeting?”

Merlin shook his head. “I just finished my duties earlier. Did you know I wasn’t supposed to be cleaning the stables?”

“No, should I? Did you mention something about that?” Gaius said as he put his satchel away.

“No, that’s not what I mean,” Merlin said. “It turns out, Gaius, as a castle servant and personal servant to the prince, my job is to go down to the stables and see that the stable hands are doing their jobs, not do it for them. In fact, it turns out that I don’t need to do Arthur’s laundry either. Pretty sure I do have to keep polishing his armour though.”

“You’ve been doing his laundry?” Gaius raised his one brow in surprise or perhaps lowered the other in a mild scowl.

“Nobody told me otherwise,” Merlin pouted. “Half the kingdom think I’m such a useless servant that I’m being punished by Arthur to do jobs beneath me and the other half have just been taking advantage of my ignorance and slacking off in their tasks!”

Gaius grimaced slightly, “I see.”

“I feel like an idiot,” Merlin stared down at the books in front of him miserably. He didn’t know who fit into what category but it didn’t really matter.

“You’re not an idiot Merlin.”

Merlin lifted his head. “I’ve been cleaning the stables for two years.”

“Perhaps a little bit,” Gaius gave him a sympathetic smile.

“Well at least now I’ll have a bit more time on my hands to study magic,” Merlin tried to look on the bright side and it was some solace.

“Good, then you can go down to the library and see if Sir Geoffrey has a copy of the bestiary.” Gaius instructed.

Merlin sat back with a groan, “Tomorrow. Please Gaius. Let me just enjoy doing nothing for a bit.”

“Alright,” Gaius wagged his finger, ‘for tonight.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Morgana walked tiredly towards her chamber although she had done little since her horse ride and visit with Morgause. She had spent the rest of the day scribing letters in preparation for the melee forcing herself to focus on tasks rather than on the worrisome problems of her mystery predictions involving Gwen and Morgause. The door to her bed chamber loomed ahead. She’d put off returning to it as long as she could knowing that tonight she must remove her bracelet and face the nightmares. She pushed against the heavy door, her eyes on the floor, when she heard a sound from the far end of her chamber. Her eyes shot to the source. “Gwen!” She exclaimed seeing the young maidservant standing solemnly. “You’re back. I’m so glad to see you.” Morgana stepped forward intending to embrace Gwen but there was something reserved in Gwen’s stance. Morgana halted. “You are back, aren’t you? You are well?”

“I’m fine,” Gwen replied stiffly. “I hope you were attended appropriately while I was . . . ill?”

They both knew Gwen had never been ill but Morgana was willing to keep up the pretence if that was what Gwen wanted. “No one attends me as well as you Gwen,” Morgana said genuinely, “But yes sufficiently attended.”

Gwen took a deep breath. “To be frank, milady. I didn’t know if you would want me back after I ran out like I did or after what you said.”

For a moment Morgana weighed the odds of letting Gwen go as her maidservant, this was the opportunity she supposed, to play fickle and evasive and send Gwen to a position that was safely away from the dangers of learning of Morgana’s magic. . . that was if Gwen didn’t already know or suspect. But Morgana couldn’t do it, even if it was selfish. But she also felt it was important to keep Gwen with her - some other reason. “Of course, I want you back,” Morgana said sombrely, “I didn’t blame you for running out, I know I said something upsetting, I wish you would tell me what it was.”

Gwen remained stoic and thoughtful. “You still don’t remember?”

“No. I’m afraid not.” Morgana answered truthfully.

Gwen bit her lip, seeming to decide something. “You mentioned a bandit or bandits.”

“Bandits?” Morgana gasped. Bandits did keep coming up today.

“I don’t really remember the exact words,” Gwen explained her eyes darting away for a moment, “just something about a bandit coming – you don’t know what you might have meant?”

“Bandits are coming?” Morgana gulped failing to hear the almost clipped tone that Gwen used. “And I said that to you? Was I warning you? Think Gwen did I say anything else?”

 “Why should you warn me?” Gwen demanded.

Morgana snapped her eyes to Gwen, the maidservant's stance was tense as if ready to attack. Perhaps Gwen did suspect magic and she thought Morgana’s warning was a threat of some kind. How could Morgana explain without outright confirming her magic?  “I – I, don’t know Gwen. I don’t know why I said it but I only want you to be safe. I mean, you are safe from me - with me.” Morgana felt she was botching her assurances badly. “I’m sure I don’t know what I’m talking about half the time, then or now.” She laughed attempting to dismiss it all as frivolous ramblings. “I just want you to be safe.”  

Gwen was still unyielding, not a smile passed her face. “I see. I thought perhaps you were just thinking of your time with the bandits. Perhaps you saw something that made you think of me and or vice versa.”

It was a question more than a statement. A strange one. Morgana shook her head. “Nothing I witnessed or experienced in that place would make me think of you, Gwen.”

Gwen looked uncomfortable with the response and that was very perplexing. Surely Gwen didn’t want to be associated with bandits! Was it merely that Gwen was looking for absolute solid excuses for Morgana’s strange outburst? Was Gwen so determined to assure herself that Morgana did not have magic before she would even think about properly returning to Morgana’s service? Or was she hoping Morgana would admit to her seer’s magic? Morgana tried to remind herself that Merlin was right, it was too big a risk and too big a secret to impose on someone. “To be honest Gwen,” Morgana said wearily, “I don’t have any answers I can give you and I really would rather not remember my time with the bandits.”

“No,” Gwen said, “of course not. I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Still I’m sorry for what you’ve gone through. Things will be better now.”

“Yes,” Morgana wasn’t sure about that at all. Everything was different since she’d returned. Merlin, Gwen, Gaius, Uther. Even Camelot . . .somehow. The only person who’d remained the same was Arthur. The one person she’d hoped to find changed! Still, there was hope . . . wasn’t there?

“Would you like me to help prepare you for bed?” Gwen asked.

“Yes, thankyou Gwen,” Morgana assented. A smile passed between the two women. It was not with such ease and warmth of the past but it was something. At least Gwen was back in her position where Morgana could keep a lookout for her.

Morgana removed her outer garment as she stepped towards the screen. She looked down at the healing bracelet and with reluctance slid it off. Gwen’s revelation that Morgana had warned her of bandits was not much help. It still did not make sense and then there was the warning she gave Morgause of pyres. Morgana was not at all relishing the possibility that her dreams would contain either set of imagery but she needed to understand these visions, for those that she loved. She only hoped they would not be so terrifying as to evoke her magic.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Morgana felt she had been lying there for hours. Every time she began to feel close to sleep she jolted awake again too aware of the nightmares. She’d tried Morgause’s chants but they were for helping the visions be recalled. Any kind of sleeping spell was going to counter visions. She turned onto her side. The castle was eerily quiet, her mind drifted to thoughts of the melee, the provisions, the rooms assigned. Suddenly she sat up breathing hard. She’d been imagining the rooms, letting herself drift down corridors when she’d felt it. “Camelot ensnares me,” she whispered aloud feeling herself tense. She’d said that to Morgause, it was true but she had a little more clarity now – destiny was ensnaring her, it had been trying for a while and it was here. Not just destiny. Something or someone. She threw back the covers and fetched her cloak and silk slippers that really didn’t do much against the cold flagstones.

She padded out into the corridor, down one and then another until she reached the stairs. She wanted this, her heart or her powers said. That frightened her enough to make her stop. She should go back to bed, this was madness. No, it was magic. She bit her lip. Yes, she was beginning to understand whatever it was had been affecting her since she’d returned and worse before then. It had woken her powers in the first place, latent powers that might never have manifested. She was furious with it, how dare it drag her into whatever it had planned. She walked onwards, determined she was going to find whatever or whoever was responsible for it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter Text

Destiny Begins

by Milui Elenath

Chapter Nineteen

Merlin’s eyes snapped open, something had jolted him awake but he couldn’t quite piece together what it was just yet and it was a few seconds more before he sat upright eyes going even wider. It was magic! Magic, being used in the castle!

He threw his legs over the bed and began pulling on his clothes but halted as the realisation hit. It was Morgana wielding it. The surprise was quickly replaced with confusion. How could he know that? He wasn’t sure but he did know it. He could almost even see where she was - a corridor, she halted, she looked up as if she was aware of being watched - in another moment she would see him, know him. Merlin instinctively pulled his magic back into himself.  What was she doing? Why was she using magic? And how had she almost seen him? His heart was racing but he took a deep breath as he decided what to do.

He pulled open his door, crept by a sleeping Gaius and into the corridor beyond determined to find her. Merlin didn’t exactly know where to go, many of the corridors in the castle looked the same and he thought it too dangerous to use his magic to find his way. He had decided the best course of action was to follow his usual pathing towards Morgana’s chambers. If she’d left from that point it was possible he’d come across her, hopefully with enough opportunity to witness in secret what she was up to. He hurried upstairs and got as far as the corridor that connected the solar with the main castle when he saw her.

The corridor was open to the night air, framed by arches, a frequent walkway but it was deserted now save for Morgana who was standing completely still leaning upon one of the balustrades, staring at the night sky. Merlin approached slowly, she didn’t appear to be doing magic now and he could hardly raise the matter without piquing her curiosity. She turned grasping her cloak together at her chest.

“Merlin,” she gasped but there was some relief in her eyes, “you startled me. What are you doing here?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he said at least half truthfully, he’d been going to ask her what she was doing here but the moment she’d turned to him he’d thought better of it. Her expression was almost pained, certainly drained. “Are you alright?”

“I. . .” she trailed. “I don’t know.”

Her answer worried him. It wasn’t like her to admit need. Merlin quickly formed a conclusion. “A vision?” He questioned softly, he wasn’t sure why that sort of magic might have woken him but it certainly made sense of Morgana’s disquiet. To his dismay, she shook her head.

“No.” She bit her lip as if deciding something, “Merlin I think there is something here. Something here in the castle with magic.” She pulled her cloak closer.

Merlin was stunned. Something in the castle with magic? That was very concerning. Generally, that meant some sort of threat to Arthur but not always. One could always hope it was nothing more than someone benign, a druid perhaps. Merlin would have stretched his own magic out to see if he could feel it too if Morgana hadn’t locked her eyes onto his as if to seek reassurance or strength.

“I didn’t really notice before,” she said anxiously, her voice hushed, “not until I came back to Camelot. While I was away my magic was less . . .provoked but when I returned, I felt it. A connection. Something that speaks to my magic, feeds it, draws on it – it frightens me,” she paused a moment and then with a gush of horror she added. “I think it woke me.”

“It woke you tonight?” Merlin thought back – had he been woken by this something too? Had he been mistaken in thinking the magic was Morgana’s?

“No,” Morgana answered sombrely, “I mean I think it woke my magic the first time.” Alarm washed her face as she grappled with this revelation. “It hasn’t always been here, whatever it is,” She looked at the walls beyond him “but it’s been here a while, it’s here now. So close,” she whispered again.

Merlin tried not to show his rising concern but perhaps Morgana was only sensing Camelot itself. “The sorcerer Cornelius Sigan did help build Camelot,” he offered reassuringly, “and he did awaken some parts of it when he was revived. You remember those gargoyles and the like that happened here. Maybe it’s still giving off magic.” Merlin hadn’t noticed this himself but Morgana might have different gifts than him. It could be she was more sensitive to it.

She looked doubtful. “Maybe it’s that.”

“You don’t think so,” Merlin stated worriedly.

She slowly shook her head. “My dreams started before that and just now,” she wet her lips, “I think it was watching me. Could a castle do that do you think?”

Merlin was trying to swallow around the lump that had formed in his throat. Watching her? Just now? He began to have a horrible suspicion. “When,” he took a deep breath for courage, “when exactly did you start having dreams?”

Morgana leant against the arch for support and turned away slightly to stare at the sky once more. “I don’t know. I suppose I always had them occasionally since I was a child. But I was thinking more of the rest, the strength of them, the increase in them, the uncontrolled magic that,” she dropped her voice, “came with it. All of that only started a couple of years ago. I never thought about what the reason was. Now. . .” she shrugged then gave a small dismissive smile. “I should talk to Gaius about it I suppose.”

Merlin nodded, it was all he was capable of. Morgana should talk to Gaius and so should he. Not at the same time mind you. In fact, Merlin was tempted to wake Gaius right now. The physician was the only one well-placed enough to confirm the awful hypothesis Merlin had formed or to dispel the notion as impossible.

Surely Gaius would be all reason and logic. He’d tell Merlin it simply wasn’t possible. Merlin’s arrival in Camelot had not, could not have provoked Morgana’s magic into action. Merlin tried to calm himself. Gaius had said he’d feared Morgana had seer’s abilities when she was still a child, long before her magic quickened, long before Merlin knew of her. Morgana had to be mistaken or it was a coincidence . . .and yet what about her other assertions? Merlin fretted. She’d said her magic felt provoked in Camelot, strengthened. Her dreams had increased at the time when Merlin arrived, that was fact. Gaius' sleeping draughts had become more and more useless, Merlin had seen that himself. And it was unusual for someone to develop dormant magic well after puberty – without trying. Merlin felt absolutely appalled in remembering how plagued by nightmares she’d been. He gave a shudder as to what he might be responsible for.

“You’re cold,” Morgana said aghast, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have kept you so.”

Merlin pulled himself together. “I’m fine. You shouldn’t be out here either,” he said. He wanted - he needed her to return to her chambers. Give him some time to think this through without her proximity. He felt as if he couldn’t breathe with her so close and his magic trying to respond as it usually did when he was stressed. He never realised how often he used his magic just to feel the world around him, used it just as his eyes or ears or other senses. Instinct told him not to use it now. If he was right, if his magic was provoking hers, she’d know the second he used it. He held in a moan as other realisations hit . . .  he thought of all the times and all the situations that she had suffered because of magic, all the dangers and possibly solely because of him. It was horrendous! She’d hate him for it. . . if it were true.

“I suppose I should go,” Morgana agreed, “it’s quiet now.”

Merlin knew the it, she was referring to was the magic power that she had been seeking. Well, it would be quiet now wouldn’t it, if it was him. But why had she only now felt such magic from him? Was it simply because she hadn’t the power until now? Maybe. Still, if it were true that he had awoken her magic wouldn’t he have had to deliberately invoke her magic with some sort of spell to bring it forth? People didn’t go around spontaneously setting off others – did they? And it wasn’t as if he was doing anything with magic while he slept. Merlin hoped Gaius would have the answers but Morgana looked so lost and so frightened now. Merlin knew he had to give her something. He couldn’t leave her here, pale, frightened and alone. “I’m sure it doesn’t mean to hurt you Morgana, it hasn’t so far.” Merlin was worried she’d give a grimace of disagreement or displeasure knowing that her magic had caused so much difficulty for her but she simply nodded pensively.

“I’m sure,” he added, “that Gaius will know what to do. Try and get some sleep and I’ll send him to you in the morning.” Merlin gave her the most reassuring smile he could summon. He suspected it was thin and not very convincing.

Morgana did seem uncertain for a moment but relented with a small if tense smile of her own. “Thank you Merlin, you’re always kind to me.”

Merlin couldn’t respond and stood there blankly. He didn’t deserve the expression of gratefulness that she bestowed so willingly. He wasn’t always kind to her, he’d been going to poison her once, he’d been furious with her over the mandrake root and he’d harboured feelings of mistrust as late as yesterday and even just now. All because she had magic, what a hypocrite he was! And how much worse was it that he might be the cause of it?

Gaius would know how likely it was but Merlin was going to have a rough night while he waited for him to wake. Perhaps no more than he deserved.

“Well,” Morgana said awkwardly as she rubbed her bare wrist, “I best go. Goodnight.”

Merlin wanted to expedite her exit but he felt alarm at what he saw. “You don’t have your healing bracelet on.”

“Um, no,” Morgana lifted her arm and rubbed the wrist again, “I was trying to . . . help Gwen. Morgause felt that I might have better control over my seer’s abilities if I dreamt without it.”

Merlin wondered if perhaps the bracelet had protected her from him or the possible other influence if there was one. “I would put it back on until we know what is happening,” he advised.

“Maybe you’re right. Actually, I suppose I should consult with Morgause again about this magic entity.”

“No!” Merlin exclaimed suddenly. Morgause might put two and two together far too easily before he’d had a chance to decide what to do about any of it.

“She’s not a threat to me Merlin,” Morgana rebuked softly.

Merlin thought fast and tried to dial it back, “No, I was thinking that it was too dangerous for you to go to her again so soon. Let Gaius try first, he might have the answers. Morgause will still be there if you need her.”

Morgana’s gaze suddenly shied away from him. “Perhaps you’re right but you needn’t worry so for me Merlin. I’m going to be extra cautious about visiting Morgause from now on but I’ll speak to Gaius first.”

Merlin was relieved about that though he was puzzled as to why Morgana evidently felt embarrassed. Was it that he’d reminded her of the danger she’d almost put herself in yesterday perhaps? Morgana was sensitive to criticism but she usually responded with anger – so did Arthur come to think of it.

That gave Merlin another uncomfortable swirl of the stomach. Whatever would Arthur make of the fact that Merlin was responsible for Morgana’s powers in any way should he ever find out about either of their magic?

“Goodnight Merlin,” Morgana made her second attempt to leave, all grace towards the man who had possibly ruined her life.

“Goodnight Morgana,” Merlin responded his voice sounding raw. He should have used her honorific, he thought belatedly, though he had used her name before, somehow, right now, it had seemed more intimate. It was his guilt, his imagination that was inferring a connection and it was surely his imagination that she reacted to it ever so slightly with a bite of her lip and a duck of her head before she retreated.

He stood there alone in the chill night air, cooling the strange flush that had come over himself. As he walked back to his quarters he thought it was unhappily ironic that he now had an answer as to why he’d felt a strange compulsion to avoid Morgana recently. It must have been a kind of magical reflex to protect his secret . . . only he hadn’t used to feel that way. He huffed, there was enough destiny and drama in his life without overthinking things, what other explanation was there? Besides Gaius might tell him he was an idiot and that Morgana’s powers had nothing to do with him at all. Merlin could hope.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Merlin was still sitting at the table head in hands when Gaius stirred in the early hours so it wasn’t surprising that the physician immediately concluded something was wrong.

“What has happened Merlin?”

“I don’t know if anything has happened or not,” Merlin said aware that it was cryptic. He wasn’t sure how to begin and it occurred to him that he should probably not launch this discussion on Gaius before he’d had a chance to even wake up properly. “I’m sorry, should I make breakfast?” Merlin went to get up.

“I don’t know why you should start now,” Gaius retorted ruefully waving him back to his seat as the old man stretched himself and stood, “and I’d rather you left it to me and told me what is going on. Have you been sitting up all night?”

“Yes.” Merlin admitted, “most of it. Gaius, have you ever heard of a sorcerer giving someone magic who didn’t have any?”

“No, I haven’t.” Gaius frowned a little but waited patiently for Merlin to go on.

“How about a sorcerer bringing out someone’s latent abilities?”

Gaius made a thoughtful expression. “The priests and priestesses sometimes used a ritual to help people get in touch with their magic. Have you done something, Merlin?”

Merlin lifted his eyes to his mentor confessing. “I’m not sure.” He continued woefully, “If I did, I didn’t mean to and I don’t know how I did it either.”

“I think I’m going to need more explanation, Merin.” Gaius encouraged firmly.

Merlin nodded preparing himself. “Alright I’m just going to start at the beginning,” Merlin went through the events last night starting with being woken by Morgana’s magic and all the things Morgana had said and the many fears Merlin had since.”

Gaius was silent for a long moment and Merlin felt his anxiety increase. Was Gaius going to be furious with him?

At last, Gaius shook his head.  “I don’t know what to make of it Merlin. Are you sure there isn’t something you sense in the castle that could be doing this magic Morgana was feeling?”

“I’ve been too scared to try and sense it. What if I use my magic and Morgana realises?”

Gaius leant forward placing porridge in front of Merlin. “You can’t go about not using magic when you need to because Morgana could find out. If there is a connection – and I’m not saying there is – she’s going to figure it out sooner or later. If there isn’t then you could be ignoring a threat to Camelot.”

Merlin sagged, he knew Gaius was right. He stretched out his magic carefully to the walls, the castle. “There is something there,” he explained to Gaius, “but it is passive and not alive or not even as sentient as a tree. I think, yes I think just a spell woven into their being probably by Cornelius. Nothing else.” Merlin cautiously expanded the feeling keeping himself from touching the part of the castle where Morgana lay sleeping . . . and she was sleeping, he knew it the second he’d thought of her. He gasped pretty sure he shouldn’t know that by simple scrying.

“What is it?”

“Nnothing, sorry,” Merlin stammered. Gaius expression was full of consternation. “It’s just I got the feeling Morgana was asleep.”

Gaius’ brows came together in a rare occurrence of agreement. “So it’s two way. That’s the second time you’ve had a sense of her. You said last night you thought you saw her looking for you.”

“Yes but I’ve never had that connection with her before . . . that I’ve noticed.” Merlin was sure he would have noticed.

“You know it almost sounds like-,” Gaius broke off and shook his head, “it couldn’t be that. That involves mutual agreements and incantations and usually . . .” Gaius gave Merlin a sudden hard scrutinising look. “No,” he seemed to say to himself as his look softened. “I’m sorry Merlin I don’t have answers for you.”

“But the timing coincides, doesn’t it? With her getting worse dreams and abilities?”

Gaius hesitated but he had no choice but to agree. “It seems to.”

Merlin rubbed his eyes tiredly. “What will you tell Morgana?”

“The same thing I’ve told you. That I don’t know.”

“She’ll go to Morgause,” Merlin worried.

“Maybe it’s better she does,” Gaius consoled. “She’ll either have an explanation or she won’t. Either way it doesn’t point to you.”

“It might if she has a way of detecting it or telling Morgana how to. Morgana almost found me last night. I’m sure of it.”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself. We don’t even know if you are responsible. Let me talk to Morgana and maybe she’ll remember something else. In the meantime, I’ll make you a stimulant to get through the day.”

Merlin conceded at least outwardly. Privately he was more and more sure that this was a disaster. He did consider that Kilgharrah might have answers but he didn’t have the time to get far enough away to call him and Kilgharrah hadn’t been very amenable to Morgana in the past, having even urged Merlin to kill her. Merlin shuddered. He still feared that he might have poisoned her if it wasn’t for the intervention of his future self.  “I bet the other me knew,” he lamented, the old version of himself had kept knowledge of his father’s death from him so why not other equally damning secrets.

“What?” Gaius said looking up puzzlement on his face.

“The future me that came back – I bet he knew about Morgana’s magic.”

Gaius stared oddly at Merlin. “Perhaps,” the physician said slowly, “Well you best drink this up, you promised to fetch the bestiary for me remember, before you head off to Arthur. I’ll let you know how things turn out with Morgana.”

Merlin sighed, took the drink gulped it down and hurried to his chamber to get his jacket before heading down to the library.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Morgana left Gaius’ chamber feeling irritated. She didn’t mind that Merlin had told Gaius of her fears, she hadn’t minded the many questions Gaius had asked either but the pacifying tone he took towards the end, when he stated that he’d look into it for her and not to worry, well, that did rile her.

Gaius was still treating her as a child who was looking into things she couldn’t understand or needn’t be fearful of. His demeanour was dismissive – like Uther’s was, both of them acting in their spheres as if they’d solve all her petty little problems now that she’d brought them to their attention and she could now go and attend to the matter most suited to a frivolous female. She huffed crossly.

Arthur was no better, he’d taken that tone with her many a time as well. Merlin though . . . she sighed softly. He took things seriously and when he offered help it wasn’t patronising. She could feel the heat going to her cheeks again when she remembered the concern he’d displayed last night. She wasn’t usually one for blushing but then, when had she ever been the focus of someone’s care? She’d been subjected to flattery and admiration by visitors to the court but nothing that ever made her heart beat the way Merlin’s simple glance often did. Not that he necessarily was being anything other than himself towards her. He probably showed the same sort of care to everyone. Morgana felt herself slip a little into despair.  This life, Camelot, her powers, sometimes it all felt so smothering and controlling as if destiny had nothing to offer her and was simply trying to keep her out of the way. But it wasn’t so, the presence she’d felt, the one that had woken her magic, it meant something, something great. It did frighten her but she’d begun to realise that it also thrilled her.

She had decided that Merlin was right about not going to Morgause about it. Aside from the fact that visiting each time was risky, Morgana felt that this should be something she dealt with on her own.  She couldn’t run to Morgause every time she faced uncertainty. She needed to take back some of that old bravado and independence she used to have before her magic threw her into a spin. She tried to reach out with her abilities and sense it.

Nothing now – well not much.

It was still there of course but too quiet to get the sense of it. Hidden, hiding or just biding its time. But it wouldn’t remain that way. She knew she’d been aware of it for a long time in a low level kind of way, now that she knew it was there it could not escape. It would call to her again or reveal itself and when it did she would be ready to confront it and whatever it wanted.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“Gwen? Have you seen my bracelet?” Morgana picked through her jewellery for the third time this evening.

“No milady, perhaps it has fallen,” Gwen dropped to her knees and looked beneath the dresser. “Not there. Are you sure you didn’t take it off somewhere else?”

Morgana was more than sure. She’d removed it to bathe and she remembered distinctly sitting it on top of the ceramic dish that held her other baubles. She had intended on leaving the bracelet off again this evening in the hope of garnering a vision or evoking the magical entity that haunted the kingdom but she’d decided that facing either required she be feeling her best. The broken sleep of last night had not left her feeling that way and so she’d come to put it back on. “Where could it be?”

Gwen looked thoughtful and uncomfortable. “Maybe it was knocked and rolled or bounced,” the maid began looking under the bed.

Morgana huffed.

They spent the next while shaking sheets and clothes and moving furniture to determine that the bracelet was indeed gone. “I’m reporting it as stolen to Arthur,” Morgana announced at length.

“Surely not,” Gwen was aghast.

“What other conclusion is there?”

Gwen hesitated then shrugged. Morgana assumed the hesitation was merely concern that the blame would fall on her. “You are not to blame Gwen if someone has broken in, I do not expect to lock my chambers any time either one of us leaves it for an errand.”

Gwen nodded but it didn’t seem to ease her. Morgana supposed that Gwen’s concern must then be confronting the idea of a thief roaming so brazenly. It was not a happy thought.

Morgana left Gwen to finish tidying the last few items still out of place from their search and headed towards Arthur’s chambers. She wondered if Merlin would be there.

Arthur called her to enter as she knocked and she found him still sitting at his desk as she walked in. He lifted his head, didn’t bother standing as was protocol and tried immediately to dismiss her.

“Can whatever this is about be left until tomorrow? I’m dealing with a few things Morgana.”

Morgana felt her jaw tighten, he was like Uther. Dismissive, condescending and presumptuous. She hardly cared that he didn’t give her the common courtesy of greeting her properly – they were after all nearly siblings but she did care that he immediately concluded her visit was frivolous. No doubt he would double down and think so when he heard she was reporting stolen jewellery of all things. She could hear him now, just get Father to buy you a few more baubles, what’s the big deal? He wasn’t sentimental and she couldn’t tell him about the bracelet's heritage anyway and he certainly wasn’t about to be privy to the magical nature of the object. “I came to report a theft,” she clipped, “and it’s not so much about what was stolen as that castle security is evidently lax enough to allow thieves to roam! And while we’re at it,” it occurred to her that she had another criticism to throw his way, “you also haven’t been doing your duty of ensuring the servants are doing theirs.”

“What servants?” Arthur finally focused on her. “Has Merlin done something? He is such a -”

“No, not Merlin,” Morgana cut him off irritated. “In fact, it was Merlin who was doing the very duty you were slacking off about. Down in the stables, when was the last time you visited? Have you any idea how bad Elack is?”

“Ah,” Arthur sat back in his chair and stretched by putting his hands behind his head, “I wondered how he figured it out at last.”

“What?” Morgana had no idea what Arthur was talking about.

“You told him. I suppose. Oh well, it was good while it lasted.”

“What are you talking about?” Morgana demanded.

“Merlin,” Arthur said plainly. “He came back earlier and cleaner than expected from the stables. I figured he’d finally realised he was meant to be supervising it one of them finally told him but I guess it was you that set him straight.”

Morgana went quite still. “Are you saying that Merlin was cleaning the stables?”

“Yes,” Arthur laughed, “I thought you realised. So, it wasn’t you that told him?”

“And you knew he was doing it?” Her voice was deceptively calm.

“It’s not like I intended it to happen,” Arthur shrugged, “I thought he’d been told his responsibilities and then well, by the time I realised I just figured it got him out of my hair for a few hours. No harm done. Shame now though, I’ll have to come up with other tasks.”

“You really are the most insufferable . . . toad.” She spat.

“What?” Arthur seemed stunned.

“The way you treat Merlin.”

He rolled his eyes, “Merlin doesn’t mind.”

“Doesn’t he?” Morgana suspected he did. “Even if he doesn’t, I do.”

“Morgana,” Arthur made a far too casual attempt to placate her, “you seem to be taking this way too personally. Besides, why should Merlin concern you?”

For a moment she was taken aback, how to answer? She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks and a little fear as she saw Arthur starting to form some sort of a conclusion. She desperately tried to think of some way of distracting him, some way to stop any sort of suspicion that came anywhere near the truth.  At last, she latched onto the perfect provocation. “Uther.” Her chin lifted defiantly.

“What?”

She had him now, all interest with that one word. Such an easy weakness to exploit she thought disdainfully. “You say you want to be a better King than Uther but I don’t see Uther ordering Gaius to muck out the stables.”

“Well Gaius’s a physician isn’t he,” Arthur dismissed.

“Or Sir Geoffrey.”

“Sir Geoffrey’s keeper of the library,” Arthur maintained.

Morgana was having none of it. “Nor ordering the cook or the laundry servants to do it.”

“They all have their own jobs.” Arthur reasoned completely missing her point.

“Yes, they do just like the stable hands do. Just like Merlin does. You should not have abused his good nature. Honestly, Arthur, you should understand how important it is that everyone has their tasks and their privileges. That’s how loyalty is maintained.”

“Is this lecture going to last all day?” Arthur was bristling but Morgana could tell he was not reproached. He didn’t see it. He wasn’t just like Uther – he was worse.

In fact, she couldn’t even fault Uther for Arthur’s attitude. Uther thought of servants as expendable and exchangeable and having less value than the nobility but he also treated them with kingly grace, expecting them to do their duty and rewarding likewise. She had learnt to do likewise. “I couldn’t imagine doing such a thing to Gwen,” she said disgusted.

Arthur suddenly, finally frowned. “On reflection, perhaps you make a point Morgana.”

“I hope so,” she said.

“Yes. I’ll have Merlin polish my armour instead.” Arthur was grinning triumphantly.

Arthur still didn’t really get it. It wasn’t about the actual duties, whether cleaning the stables or polishing armour. It was respect for the people around you and he had none of it. “You, you . . .” she didn’t finish her sentence because she was a lady of the court, “forget it,” she left for the door fuming.

She stomped out and would have loved to blast something right now or set something on fire preferably Arthur. Sometimes having magic was infuriating as it took so much control. She’d learnt it well, fortunately . . .for Arthur.

She seethed all the way to her room but on entering discovered that Gwen had done the final details of cleaning up and even started a fire in the hearth. She had also very thoughtfully prepared some tea.

“Any luck?” Gwen asked pouring it.

“No, I didn’t even end up telling Arthur what was taken. We got into an argument.”

“Oh dear,” Gwen said.

“He’s been letting Merlin clean the stables, can you believe it?”

“Why would he do that?” Gwen asked.

“Arthur thought it was funny,” Morgana expected Gwen to react with indignation on behalf of Merlin – friend or infatuation and fellow servant to boot but the maidservant was very mild in her reaction.

“Oh,” Gwen said and then she made a wry smile and shook her head, “men.”

Morgana clenched her jaw. “It’s worse than that Gwen. It’s his whole attitude to it. You’ve seen how Uther is with people he thinks are less valuable to the kingdom. I fear Arthur has taken it a step further.”

Gwen shook her head firmly. “I don’t think that’s true. Arthur has shown again and again that he cares about the people.”

“Has he?” Morgana demanded. “Why are you defending him anyway?”

Gwen shrugged stiltedly, “I’m not.”

“I know he saved you Gwen, I’m glad he did that. I was proud he did that. Uther wouldn’t but Gwen, did Arthur save you because you were my maid or because you were just someone that needed to be saved? He did it for me not because it was the right thing to do.”

Gwen was silent a long moment. “I’d like to think it was both.”

“I’m sorry Gwen I can’t. I don’t.” Morgana was firm but she sighed. “I want to.”

“He cares about his people,” Gwen insisted, “about all the people of Camelot. He’s shown that.”

Morgana didn’t know if he had. Not really. “Some of them,” Morgana said bitterly, the ones who didn’t have magic, those who did were things to be hunted, murdered in their beds, driven and chased from their homes – less than the servants he used for his amusement and needs. 

“Maybe you should get Merlin’s perspective on it.” Gwen offered at last.

The suggestion was apt but the thing was Morgana knew Merlin thought Arthur was going to be a great king. She just didn’t know why he thought that and it was worth asking. What did Merlin see in Arthur that she didn’t? She wanted to know, she wanted to understand because unless she could begin to see some change there was no reason to keep up with this awful pretence. No reason to allow the kingdom to suffer in some vain hope that its future was brighter if they were just patient.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Morgana had not had a chance to speak to Merlin last evening nor this morning although she had caught sight of him at the council meeting that she and Gwen had just left. The council meeting had been . . . eventful. Gwen was hurrying, practically fleeing the great hall as if pursued. “Gwen,” Morgana called with a laugh, “slow down. There’s no need to be embarrassed, clearly, something is going about.”

Gwen just shook her head woefully. “Easy for you to say, you didn’t . . . pass wind in front of,” Gwen halted awkwardly, “the council and the king.”

Morgana started to laugh harder, “Uther,” she gasped as tears slid down her face, “did you see his face as he tried to hold it in?”

“Well, yes.” Gwen was biting her lip but there was a hint of a smile but it disappeared quickly and the maid resumed her quickened pace.

Morgana kept up as they headed towards her chambers.

“And some of the council members were having issues too,” Morgana consoled, “I’m sure I spied old Gerdman, who, as you know, is always chiding the young knights for their manners, turn quite red.” Gwen seemed to be still very much embroiled in her own discomfort. “I shouldn’t laugh,” Morgana said regaining her composure and trying to show some sympathy, “it’s evidently catching unless it’s something you all ate. Do you feel unwell Gwen?”

“I feel fine,” Gwen insisted barely halting as they reached the door and entered, “I guess that’s kind of the worst thing. I feel perfectly fine other than that. I can’t think how or why.” She darted her eyes away.

“I’m glad to hear you feel well but maybe you should see Gaius since you weren’t alone in such an. . . upset,” Morgana suggested delicately.

“No,” Gwen said sharply.

Morgana was surprised at her vehemence. “Why not? What’s going on?”

Gwen gave a slight shake of her head. “It’s nothing just I don’t want to bother Gaius, what with everything else.”

“Everything? You mean Uther’s baldness? What else?”

“Some sort of plague with boils.”

“This is the first I’ve heard of it,” Morgana said alarmed and surprised. “Do you think this plague is related to the flatulence?”

“I don’t think so. Gaius came to me and gave me a tonic for it.” Gwen looked distant, “he said it was a cure, he appeared to be . . . very annoyed. I guess he is feeling overworked.”

Morgana wrinkled her brow, “he seemed fine yesterday.” She wondered if he’d been aware of the plague then. She sat heavily on her bed feeling the tiredness catch up.

“You didn’t sleep well last night milady?” Gwen asked, noticing.

“Not really,” Morgana confessed. With the bracelet gone, she figured that she would just make another attempt at understanding her seer dreams but she just couldn’t relax, her dreams in the brief moments of sleep were fleeting images of sometimes ordinary tasks as if reliving her day again with minor differences that left her feeling disquieted but little else. She had the thought that one of Gaius's sleeping draughts might be the solution as it wouldn’t dampen her magic but it might help her fall asleep more deeply. She’d almost visited him this morning but she was still irritated from the tone of yesterday’s conversation so she’d thought better of it and planned to do it later this afternoon. It seemed like that had been for the best considering the physician was apparently very busy.

Gwen was still acting flustered and embarrassed. Morgana tried not to be dismissive but Gwen was so proper sometimes, too proper for the lower town. It was an errant thought but Morgana for a second saw a vision of Gwen as a noble. It was slightly disconcerting and Morgana pondered why. Gwen did have a high-handed manner sometimes, almost imperious. Morgana loved her dearly but she concluded she wouldn’t like things to be on the other foot, to be Gwen’s servant. Her thoughts troubled her, she didn’t like to feel uncharitable to her friend even though things were strained between them lately. She put such things to the side, blaming fatigue.  

Most of the plans for the melee were done, thankfully and so her afternoon had little tasks. She had intended on walking the grounds with Gwen but if there were a plague she had best find another activity. Something that would fill the time and occupy her well enough to keep her patience in speaking with Merlin. It wasn’t like she could determine where to find him privately apart from Gaius chamber from time to time and so she had determined that if she went a little later in the evening for the sleeping draught, she might get a chance then.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Morgana carefully pushed back her hair from her face hoping that it was still arranged properly, smoothed her dress and knocked gently on Gaius' chambers. She hoped that she allowed enough time for Merlin to finish his duties with Arthur to encounter him.

There was no response within but Morgana thought she could hear stirring. She pushed open the door slightly and peered in. She could see Gaius hurriedly shutting a chest.

She entered all the way. “Good evening Gaius. Is Merlin about?”

“No he is not,” Gaius said sharply.

“Oh,” Morgana attempted not to appear to put out. After all, she could wait here if Gaius didn’t mind. “Do you know when he’ll be here? I’d like a word with him.”

Gaius scowled. “I’m not his keeper. I can’t imagine why you’d want to speak to such a tedious servant anyway.”

Morgana was shocked, Gaius had never spoken of Merlin badly before and he was behaving oddly towards her too. She gave him a querying look but Gaius didn’t offer an explanation. Instead, he had suddenly narrowed his gaze and seemed to be scrutinising her. He stepped forward gazing into her eyes.

“Oh I see the reason, it’s like that is it?”

“Like what?” Morgana said taking a step back and gasping.  

“I wonder how Uther would take to finding out his, uh, shall we say, ward has feelings for a lowly servant?” He chuckled and placed an odd inflection on her status.

Morgana straightened herself feeling furious that Gaius would dare to speak to her in such a manner let alone threaten her and possibly Merlin over something he, at best could only suspect. She tossed her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about and if Uther did here such a preposterous thing,” she added warningly as her eyes fixed a glare back upon him, “I’m sure it would not reflect well on you Gaius.“

She had expected her dangerous tone to shock Gaius, she knew it was a side of herself she rarely let out and that few had seen but he didn’t appear scandalised or even threatened rather Gaius looked amused, as if discovering something altogether wonderful.

“No, I suppose it wouldn’t.” He agreed, suddenly milder and with the only trace of glee being a small glint in his eyes. “I shall tell Merlin you’re looking for him if I see him, shall I?”

With Gaius in a strange mood, she no longer thought it good to wait for Merlin so it did seem the best option. “Thank you yes.” She hesitated wondering if it was a good idea to ask about a sleeping draught but she really didn’t want to come back if this mood of Gaius’s was long-lasting. “The other thing I came for was a sleeping draught.”

“A sleeping draught?” Gaius's expression took on a grin that Morgana hadn’t seen him make before and that seemed to increase the glint in his eyes. “I have just the thing.”

He shuffled to his work table and returned handing her the draught. “Sweet dreams,” Gaius said mildly.

Morgana thanked him and turned promptly not wishing to remain a moment longer with Gaius behaving so erratically and she could only think it was because he disapproved of her being infatuated with the only man in this castle with a lick of selflessness. She practically catapulted herself out the door failing in time to avoid the person about to come in.

“Merlin!” She gasped in surprise as he took hold of her arms to steady them both and only just managing it.

“Morgana!” He responded in like. His eyes travelled quickly over her and fixated on the vial in her hand.

Merlin snatched it away. “Don’t drink that!” He pulled her slightly further along the hallway away from the physician's chamber and shot the door an aggravated look.

“What why?” Morgana was stunned.

“Uh,” Merlin paused, “I just don’t think potions are the answer. Don’t they make things worse anyway?”

Morgana frowned. While she did appreciate concern, she did not appreciate overprotectiveness. Merlin was starting to seem as if he didn’t want her to explore her visions. Maybe he wasn’t as on board with her having magic as she thought. He had tried twice to send her away from Camelot. She’d thought he was helping her but what if it wasn’t that?  “I can’t see any other way,” she confessed sadly. “My bracelet has been stolen. I can’t seem to relax to sleep the draughts do help a little. I have to understand these visions, Merlin, I have to.” She dropped her voice and found it pleading.

“I understand that,” he said, “I’m not saying you shouldn’t.”

Wasn’t he? He seemed sincere, even sympathetic. “Actually,” Morgana said taking the opportunity, “I came to see you as well. I wanted to talk to you about Arthur.”

“Arthur?” Merlin was all attention.

“About why you believe so strongly that he is going to be a good king? About what you see in him.”

“Oh,” Merlin’s expression was suddenly anxious but at the same time clanking suddenly came from Gaius’ chambers.

Morgana took her eyes off Merlin for a moment wondering what on earth the physician was up to now and when she looked back Merlin was already starting to move from her.

“Morgana, I’m sorry I really have to go but I promise to speak to you about Arthur soon. Tomorrow . . . hopefully.” He handed her back the tonic placing it in her grasp. “Here, maybe you should.”

It all happened so quickly. She stared dumbfoundedly after Merlin as he disappeared into the physician's chamber and then slowly returned her gaze to the vial.

Time seemed to slow further, she couldn’t take her eyes off the vial. Magic. Merlin had just handed her magic.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter Text

Destiny Begins

by Milui Elenath

Chapter Twenty

Morgana fled to her chambers with the vial of magic in her possession. She'd hardly dared think or stop until she reached the safety of her room. She took a few steadying breaths as she leaned against her chamber door before she hesitantly glanced down at the bottle clutched in her hands. Hastily she walked to her dresser and placed the vial on its surface before taking a few shaky steps back and staring at it worriedly. Her heart was hammering and her thoughts were spinning. What did this mean? When Gaius had given her that remedy she had not felt anything in the bottle but when Merlin had given it back there it was. Magic!

Merlin couldn't have magic – could he?

Merlin with magic.

It wasn't possible. She thought of all the moments they'd spoken of her gifts, of her fears, of magic, of her magic. It couldn't be. He couldn't have it. He wouldn't keep such a secret when it would mean so much to share something like that! Such a burden, he'd said so himself. Said that he understood.

No! Morgana told herself firmly. They were mad thoughts. There were other possibilities. Gaius had been a magic user in the past and it was his potion. Maybe Gaius had used something that took a while to coalesce. Wasn't that the more likely reasoning? She started to breathe a little easier. Yes, that was it. It had to be. Gaius had given her magic.

That was still shocking. Gaius was taking – had been taking awfully big risks, magic dosing Uther's ward all these years, that was presuming this was not the first sleeping draught with magic in it.

She considered that briefly. It made sense that magic had to be fought with magic but Gaius potions had never done the job and she'd never noticed the magic in them before . . . but then she hadn't been as capable in the past. Morgana had a disturbing thought – what if Gaius was the magic presence that had woken her magic? The tightness in her chest relaxed as she instantly dismissed it. Gaius had always tried to steer her from her visions and from magic. He still did and yet . . .

She paced.

And yet he had always supplied her with potions. Had they made things worse? She stared at the vial, still on the dresser beyond her reach. She could feel its magic emanating toward her. Part of her was curious. What was it? Would it give a dreamless sleep? Or would it provoke her nightmares? Or did Gaius intend it to do something else? And if so what?

Her mouth went dry as she remembered that Merlin had tried to stop her from taking the potion. Did Merlin know about Gaius' little ruse? Was he trying to protect her from it? Did he know what it did? But why then would Merlin give back the vial?

She bit her lip. She had no answer. It didn't make sense.

Was there no one in Camelot she could trust?

She sat wearily on the bed, eyes still on the vial. It seemed all she had since returning to Camelot were questions and uncertainties. Rather strangely Merlin always seemed to end up somehow rousing more of them. Had she been a fool to think Merlin cared about her at all? Was it protection or conspiracy that motivated him? How was she to confront him about this vial? Of course, she did have to confront him about it, there was no question of that and she would watch him carefully to see how he answered and whether he was misleading her.

Her hand nervously went to her heart. And then what? What would she do if he proved he was not to be trusted? Flee Camelot? Go quaking back to Morgause merely because she was alone here? Morgana was horrified to find that such thoughts didn't provoke some sort of defiant courage as such challenges usually did. She found fatigue and emptiness at the thought of such betrayal. She'd reach her limit of loneliness. She guessed she felt it more keenly having foolishly imagined that things could change. But she couldn't think that way, not yet, not when there were so many things uncertain.

One thing was for sure though, drinking the draught was out of the question! Nor could it continue sitting out in the open, taunting her, or waiting for discovery by Gwen or Gaius or even Merlin. She strode across the room, took a moment to think before putting the potion safely away in the lower drawer with the mementos of her childhood and parents. Gwen knew of and respected the drawer and would not have cause to open and discover the potion hidden with such personal items. Morgana closed the drawer firmly. There, she breathed. Now there was nothing to let on to Gaius or Merlin that she had not taken it. All was well. She had avoided the draught. She looked at her bed reluctantly. Except of course that it meant she would have to face sleep without help and she must sleep, she must dream. At least there she might find some answers!

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Morgana shifted in her bed aware that the watches of the night were passing by. She whispered Morgause's preparation spells to help her remember, to help her control. Her eyes closed, sprang open again, forcefully closed and thoughts of vials spun in her head. She tried to forget, it was not important. Not as important as her seer power, Gwen and Morgause were counting on her and Gaius' intentions . . . and Merlin's didn't matter for now.

Gaius. He looked at her calculatingly. "I can see deep into your heart, and it's cold. Cold as stone."

Morgana turned from him confused, angry, distraught. Merlin was watching her. He folded his arms distancing himself further than before. He believed it too. She opened her mouth to deny it, how could they say such a thing? But it was true! As she stared into Merlin's face she knew that he saw through her, there were things she'd done, she remembered them now, things he'd done too, how could she have forgotten? Her heart was cold but Gaius was wrong, it wasn't a stone. It was ice, it was frigid in its depths, burning, consuming, withering what little warmth remained as it beat in her chest. A cold fire strangely fuelled by Merlin's presence. The mere sight of him pierced her, like frozen skin warmed too suddenly by fire.

Fire! Fire was all around it flicked at her and then the flames leapt at Morgause. Morgana tried to warn her, to call out but no sound escaped her throat.

Morgause turned, unconcerned, unaffected by flame or Morgana's distress. "I will find it Morgana. It will burn until Camelot is reborn. Prepare. They're coming."

Morgana found her voice. "Who is coming?"

"The others. You'll know. You've always known."

"I don't!" She protested.

Morgause's eyes glowed with power – no not Morgause – a woman, terrifying and treacherous. Her eyes were red. Her skin was an unnatural hue. "Vows will be upheld, Morgana la Faye."

Morgana's eyes startled open as she swallowed a scream, she was in bed, in her chambers but she was not alone!

Morgana la Faye bolted upright at the thought, somehow not disturbing the ancient warlock sleeping beside her. Of course she wasn't alone, she chided herself. Merlin was with her, sleeping in his bedroll in their hidden grotto, having been with her since they travelled back in time. An involuntary moan escaped her as the realisations hit.

"What is it?" Merlin said sleepily.

Morgana la Faye wanted to force a smile but the vision, the final vision would not shake, "just a dream, sorry." She mumbled.

"A dream or a dream?" Merlin queried raising himself up on an elbow suddenly alert. His blue eyes searching but kind.

Morgana contemplated an answer. She hadn't lied to him since Aithusa's death, she didn't want to start now but she didn't know if he could bear much more – nor could she. A half truth then. "I'm not sure. Both I think."

She watched as he sat up far more alarmed than she'd hoped. "But you haven't had a dream at all since we came back."

Morgana was silent.

"Have you?"

She didn't answer him. "Merlin," she began instead, "do you feel it?"

"Feel what?"

"Them. You. The other you."

"What do you mean?"

She could see he was increasingly disturbed by her words. She was frightened herself for him. She never wanted him to face this alone. He'd struggled since they'd returned to this time, with the isolation, with the inaction and far more than she had. Morgana turned more fully towards him hoping to see some sign that it was happening to him too. "I feel her." Morgana watched him to see if he understood. He didn't. Her heart plummeted. "In fact, it's more than that. I am her."

"Well yes, in a way you are," he said confusedly.

Morgana felt tears welling in her eyes. He really hadn't felt it too. She realised she had to prepare him. She couldn't let this happen without some forewarning but how? How to tell him? How to soften the blow? On instinct she took his face in her hands and brought hers closer, brushing her lips across his, lingering but for a moment hoping to impart some warmth and to take some for herself. Her eyes closed before she pulled back and opened them again.

He was looking at her with his brows slightly raised. Not shocked, not repulsed. "What was that for?" he asked.

There was a hint of concern in his tone, perhaps a little wonderment which was to be expected given that they'd never kissed before. "I'm fading," Morgana felt a tear spill from her eyes, "becoming her."

Merlin surprised her both by remaining very calm and reaching his hand out and brushing the tear from her cheek. "It frightens you?" He queried softly. "We knew it would happen."

Morgana shook her head. "I'm not frightened, I just . . ." she trailed hoping he would understand but his forehead simply furrowed. She sighed, "was hoping you wouldn't have to go through this alone." She made to stand up, aware of the heat rising to her cheeks. To think she had lived hundreds of years only to blush at a mere confession that she cared about someone else's wellbeing.

Merlin spoke quietly behind her. "I guess, I always knew I would but I'm not worried."

She turned in disbelief, "how can you not be?"

He made a small smile. "Because I know that no matter what happens it was the right thing to do and if you are fading it has to mean I will fade too, eventually."

"Are you sure you haven't felt it?" She urged.

He shook his head. "Not yet."

"The time will come," Morgana said certainly, it was her seer power speaking. It could almost have been her imagination but Merlin seemed to take a slightly deeper breath and his eyes seemed to relax. She had forgotten how good he was at hiding his fears, how much he'd always taken on himself. "But we didn't want this," she complained. "I remember the past, I mean she does – or is starting to. She remembers my past as well as her own."

Merlin finally looked as concerned as she felt. "You mean she has your memories?"

Morgana nodded. "When I join with her it's like they're dreams, distant . . . like someone else's memories I guess." Morgana felt ill, all those memories, all those things she did, all the evil, all the things she'd suffered . . . the madness. "It's not fair! All of what we did to get here. I didn't want her to have that burden." She clenched her arms across herself.

Merlin had come around the bed to stand near her. He casually picked up a blanket and draped it over her and his hands ran calmingly down her arms.

He took a deep breath and met Morgana's eyes. "I don't think they can complain. They're getting a second chance, a chance no one else ever gets. A few unpleasant memories is a small price and perhaps it will help to steer them toward the correct path . . . or at least away from the wrong one."

Morgana bit her lip. That could be true, if either of their other selves learned quickly enough.

"Besides," Merlin said, "what we set out to do was bigger than ourselves. I didn't do this to avoid my guilt."

Morgana fell silent. She hadn't either, she really hadn't but she had hoped.

Merlin had a determined look. "I take comfort from knowing that this is a sign we/them are succeeding."

"Yes," Morgana said, "for now." There was a hint of the seer power again in her tone, "but," she shrugged off the blanket remembering that final part of the dream she had just shared. She took Merlin's hands. "There's something else Merlin though, something terrible I never told you about. Something I never thought would matter now but it does Merlin. It does!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter Text

Destiny Begins

by Milui Elenath

Chapter Twenty-one

Morgana, ward of Uther Pendragon, stared at herself in the mirror as Gwen fussed with the bedclothes.

“Did you sleep well milady?”

Morgana laughed sardonically, “No need to be polite Gwen I think my appearance can testify that I did not.”

“You can barely tell,” Gwen offered, “it’s just that I know you so well.” Morgana watched Gwen hesitate before she continued, “I thought your nightmares had stopped.”

“They had,” Morgana admitted. “Have.” She insisted trying not to shudder as she recalled the many disturbing visions of the previous night of Gaius, Merlin, Morgause and the woman who had made her feel as if her skin was crawling . . . even now. Morgana looked up at Gwen and shrugged in a manner she hoped was careless.

“But not without your bracelet?” Gwen prodded.

Morgana felt her eyes go wide and it was far too late to hide her distress from Gwen who was still boldly waiting for a response. Were they back to this? Dancing around the subject of magic and Morgana’s powers again? Morgana wanted to answer honestly, wanted to gauge Gwen’s reaction but with everything still in the air regarding Merlin she didn’t know if she dared to trust another even a little – she wouldn’t like to find all of her faith in everyone was misplaced. Morgana rubbed her empty wrist. “It hardly helps knowing there are thieves in the castle.”

“I suppose not,” Gwen responded her expression revealing her own disquiet.

Gwen seemed as if she were about to say more but Morgana didn’t get to hear it as suddenly a knock came at the door. Morgana frowned as Gwen went to answer. It was a court attendant. He was strangely early. Messages for Morgana were usually delivered at the breakfast table, where Uther could inquire of her as to the contents. Morgana speculated that perhaps this was a message from Uther, excusing himself from breakfasting with her. He had been reclusive since the balding episode. She hoped she was right. Breakfast with Uther was draining and she had little energy for such a pretence today. She was tired and distracted and would much rather find and confront Merlin about Gaius’ magic potion sooner rather than later.

Morgana was surprised when the messenger didn’t hand Gwen anything instead he stood to attention. “Milady Morgana is required to attend a council meeting.”

“This early?” Gwen voiced Morgana’s own thoughts.

The attendant of course had no answer, merely bowed, and left.

“Something must have happened, something significant.” Morgana worried. Her thoughts ran through the possibilities. Had Morgause been found and arrested?

“Maybe they’ve found the thief,” Gwen suggested.

“Yes,” Morgana agreed weakly. That could be it, she hoped so. Gwen was already fetching Morgana’s slippers and Morgana adjusted her girdle. Though, as a woman, she did not have a voice on the council her presence was required as the last representative of the house of Gorlois. Uther retained the right of her vote until she married. . .  perhaps another reason of his. Not that it truly mattered given that it was rare for the other houses to oppose him in anything.

Slippers on and properly dressed she left Gwen attending to other duties and entered the council chamber moments later. She found it filling quickly and there was a nervous tension in the air which gave Morgana the impression that most, if not all, of the council were as much in the dark as she was. “Good morning my lord,” she greeted Uther who barely acknowledged her before he turned back to Gaius.

The two were conversing fervently about something but Morgana could not make out what. Morgana sat and waited projecting an air of composure and boredom that she did not feel.

“Bring in the prisoner!” Uther commanded at last.

So it was an arrest. Morgause or the thief? Morgana braced herself hoping her fears were misplaced as she watched the double doors of the great hall, even so, she had to stifle a gasp and prevent her hand flying to her throat as the guards came into view bringing with them their reluctant prisoner. It was not Morgause but Merlin who struggled against the knights!    

“Is it true?” Uther’s voice demanded as soon as Merlin was forced before him. “You were responsible for the afflictions that I and other members of the court have suffered?”

“What? No.” Merlin seemed just as confused and stunned by the turn of events happening to him as the rest of the room.

“Gaius.” Uther prompted never taking his eyes from Merlin.

Gaius retrieved a large tome from a nearby pedestal and stepped forward. “I found this in your room. It's a book of spells and enchantments.”

Morgana was glad for the reaction around her since her own didn’t seem out of place. Merlin. Magic. The vial last night, had she been right in her first assumption?

“He's lying. That's not Gaius.” Merlin asserted firmly.

Morgana was as silent as the rest of the court as everyone took in this surprising defence. Not Gaius? What could Merlin mean?

“What are you talking about?” Arthur demanded clarification.

“He's been possessed by a goblin!” Merlin insisted.

Morgana snapped her attention to Gaius. The physician seemed utterly composed, not at all shocked by Merlin’s words nor concerned by them. As if he were ready for it.

“The boy is reduced to making the most desperate and ridiculous accusations,” Gaius dismissed.

Uther directed a cold gaze at Merlin. “You seriously expect me to believe that Gaius is a goblin?”

“It's, it's controlling him. Gaius is still in there...somewhere.” Merlin flailed perhaps recognising how unconvincing he sounded.

To Uther perhaps, Morgana thought horrified, but not to her. She believed Merlin. She could see it in Merlin’s eyes. The way he stared at Gaius was a mixture of concern and disgust with a little helplessness thrown in. She remembered the unnerving conversation she’d had with Gaius yesterday and the potion he’d given her. The magic potion. It started to make sense. She was certain Merlin spoke the truth. Gaius was not himself.

She saw that Arthur looked flummoxed as if he wasn’t sure what to believe. Morgana wanted to shake him. Surely, he knew Merlin wouldn’t lie about this. How many times had Merlin saved his life? Hadn’t Merlin proven himself reliable time and again? She eyed Arthur sternly, willing him to do something. Say something in Merlin’s defence but he never looked her way.

 “Do you have any proof of these accusations?” the prince asked finally.

Morgana gripped her arms to halt herself from getting up and slapping Arthur for his stupidity. It was a futile question, what kind of proof was Merlin going to have that someone was possessed? It was only going to make Merlin look more guilty!

“No!” Merlin answered.

Gaius spoke pityingly. “I fear that magic has corrupted you. It pains me more than I can tell you.”

“I really doubt that,” Merlin retorted.

The room was shocked at the insolence of this young man towards his mentor but Morgana saw the entire exchange only as further proof something was terribly wrong. She was sure not only that Merlin was being accused unjustly but that Gaius was a goblin. That was no small thing! She knew little of them from her magical studies but she knew enough to be concerned for Camelot and for Gaius . . . and for Merlin! But what could she do? Once upon a time she’d have made a scene. Demanded Uther start listening to Merlin but she wasn’t so naïve anymore. She stared at Uther knowing his mind was made up. Her voice on its own would do no good. She turned her gaze back to Arthur who was standing there mutely, showing no signs that this was at all distressing to him than any other trial – if trial it could be called. How could Arthur be so passive? He knew Merlin and Gaius as well as, if not better than she. Didn’t he see? Didn’t he know something was wrong? Morgana felt ill. If Arthur would only say something she would join in, together there was less chance that they would be ignored, ridiculed, or worse. .  . Thoughts of her time in the dungeons, of Uther’s hand around her throat replayed and were broken only Gaius’s movement towards Uther.

It appeared Gaius the goblin wasn’t finished with his performance. “My Lord, I have been harbouring a sorcerer. For that I offer the most sincere apology.”

Morgana clenched her teeth. If Uther were to have paid even a tiny bit of consideration to those around him he would know that Gaius would never say such a thing about Merlin either. But Uther was always blind where magic was concerned.

“You were not to know, Gaius. He's fooled us all,” Uther said magnanimously.

“It's not me that's fooling you,” Merlin tried again.

“Silence!” Uther shouted incensed by such a suggestion. “You've been found guilty of using magic and enchantments. In accordance with our laws, you will pay with your life. Take him away!”

Morgana felt her heart quake, she switched her attention to Merlin, lump in her throat, and their gazes met. Of all those he could look to at that moment, he had chosen her. Her heart, already thumping, ached with the pressure but there was nothing she could do for him except try to convey that she believed him. Of course, she didn’t intend on leaving it at reassuring glances. No matter what it took she would not let him be killed. Whatever it took. Merlin’s expression suddenly seemed to harden and she thought she detected a slight movement of his head indicating a negative. She was touched that he knew her well enough to know she would try but if he expected her not to do anything on his say so – or anyone’s – he should think again. He had torn his gaze away, brokering no more argument imagined or real and was taken from the room. Morgana gazed after him noticing a strange determination radiating from him. She marvelled how he could suddenly appear so purposeful and almost calm.

Quite the opposite of the feeling in the room. Quite the opposite of herself.

She knew what would await Merlin if she did nothing. She’d seen it often enough. Fire, axes – blood. No matter whether he wanted help she was going to give it, she was sure of that, even if right now she wasn’t sure how. She saw Uther glance her way and she tried not to wince as he frowned. It seemed he’d detected some part of her reaction and it displeased him. No wonder.

It was a moment more for Uther to dismiss the rest of the council and not unexpectedly he approached. “Shall we breakfast Morgana? I assume you have not yet eaten?” He was curt as if expecting refusal.

She swallowed her anger and her fears and forced herself to appear impassive. “I have not but my lord I am afraid I am not well enough to dine.” Her voice was more strained than she would have liked.

“I can see that, I hope that it has nothing to do with this morning's events?” There was a sharpness to his tone.

Morgana managed to force a laugh through her constricted airways. “Not at all.”

Uther seemed unconvinced. Morgana thought fast, suddenly remembering what she had said to Gwen she leaned forward conspiratorially. “I am afraid I did not sleep well last night, what with the thefts . . .” she trailed forcing a wobble into her lips.

Uther relaxed slightly and reached out to pat her hand. “Well, you can sleep better now knowing the culprit is caught.”

It seemed her act of the last few weeks had put to rest most of his misgivings in regards to her stances on magic and he was taking her at face value.

“Yes, it is a relief.” She managed bravely.

“Well, ensure that you do not take upon yourself too many duties today. I believe you said the preparations for the melee are in hand. Take some time for yourself. It has been a trying few weeks.”

“It has,” she agreed with more venom than intended. It had been trying and she saw no end to it. Not with Merlin facing execution. But Uther was once again thinking only of himself. The trying few weeks as far as he was concerned were his trials in being mad and unwell, his baldness, his discomfort. He had no reason to think she’d had a trying few weeks. Nor did it seem to occur to him that a supposed year of capture with the bandits would have been far more trying to her than the ups and downs of kingdom life or caring for a sick king. Such concern as he displayed for her in this moment was so superficial, so carelessly given on a whim and likely to be taken from her just as easily! “If you would excuse me, my lord.” She bobbed.

“Certainly, rest well child,” he bid her distractedly.

She turned, anxious to leave Uther’s presence before she did or said something she shouldn’t and hurried out. She had decided as soon as she exited where she was going to go. Arthur’s room. She didn’t know whether he’d be willing to listen or willing to help but if he refused this she knew that she would not forgive him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Morgana knocked on Arthur’s door but there was no answer. She tried the door and found it was unlocked so she slipped inside to wait. She paced back and forth for a few moments as she considered how best to convince Arthur that something was amiss. She was on her tenth lap when it occurred to her that Arthur wouldn’t necessarily return here before attending to other duties. It might be hours before he came back here! Possibly longer without a servant to attend him. She was just forming thoughts of how else to tackle the situation when he entered.

“Morgana?” Arthur frowned disapprovingly. “What are you doing in here? And how did you get in?”

She answered his question sharply. “It was unlocked but I came to speak to you about –.”

“Gaius?” Arthur interjected.

Morgana had been going to say Merlin but she nodded taken aback. Had Arthur actually realised Merlin was telling the truth?   

“So,” Arthur said carefully, “you think there’s something to Merlin’s claim?”

“I’m sure of it,” Morgan asserted. Arthur raised his brows at her tone evidently surprised at her certainty. She didn’t care what he was making of her words or manner. “We’ve got to do something to help Merlin, Arthur.”

“That, I know.”

“You know?”

Arthur’s brows flattened. “Of course I do. You don’t think I’d let Merlin be executed.”

Morgana had not been sure but his indignation was encouraging. Maybe Arthur had changed more than she thought in the last year. “He has been accused of sorcery,” she said quietly. She watched Arthur carefully to see how he responded, did he have some tolerance for magic users?

“Merlin, a sorcerer!” Arthur laughed. “I don’t know what’s going on around here but the one thing I’m sure of is that if Merlin had magic I’d know about it. The idiot is so clumsy he’d probably have set himself on fire.”

Morgana frowned remembering vividly the moment her magic first set her room on fire. Arthur’s response also didn’t suggest that he had any more leniency towards sorcery than before.

“In any case,” Arthur continued, “I can’t do anything for him until nightfall.”  

Nightfall. Yes, she supposed that was true. Merlin’s chances of getting out of the dungeons unseen in the day were zero.

Arthur had gone to his wardrobe and was pulling out various articles of clothing. He clearly thought the matter was at an end.

“What about Gaius?” Morgana persisted. “He could be dangerous.”

Arthur suddenly shifted his stance and his eyes fixed on her face. “You seem awfully certain that Merlin is right about Gaius. Why?”

Morgana was not put off by his scrutiny, she’d seen that calculating look before but he’d rarely gotten the truth out of her unless she wanted to tell him. She paused obstinately. She obviously couldn’t tell Arthur about sensing the magic potion, she couldn’t explain why she believed Merlin was telling the truth either, at least not without fear of Arthur noticing her feelings. She returned his gaze openly. “It’s a few things. I had a very strange conversation with Gaius yesterday and watching his behaviour just now it all seemed to fit. He was glad to give up Merlin, Gaius would not do that.”

Arthur grimaced mildly. “That’s not much to go on. Maybe Gaius legitimately believes Merlin is guilty of sorcery. He did express regret. As for Merlin’s accusations, he does have a tendency to mix things up.”

Morgana pursed her lips. Just when she had started to believe Arthur had a brain cell.

“Look,” Arthur said, “we’ll know more when I speak to Merlin. If it is Gaius behind this, if Gaius has really been possessed by a goblin or something then he’s not likely to try anything more. Not when Merlin has already put some suspicion on him.”

Although there was some logic to Arthur’s belief Morgana didn’t know if she shared it. She knew too little of goblins to be confident about how it might act.

“Fine,” she relented, “we’ll wait until we speak to Merlin.” After all her main concern was Merlin’s execution. Goblin Gaius could be dealt with later. “When should I come back?”

“Come back?” Arthur lifted his head.

“To help Merlin escape.”

“You don’t. There’s no need for you to be involved.”

Morgana glared. “You don’t think I’m leaving Merlin’s fate in your hands alone?”

“Why shouldn’t you?” Arthur challenged.

Morgana shifted uncomfortably, “because if something goes wrong you’ll need backup.”

“Nothing will go wrong . . .,” Arthur seemed to think better of the statement, “although, Merlin is involved.”

Morgana felt that rather bettered their chances but she didn’t argue. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

“How can you say nothing will go wrong when you don’t even have a plan yet?” Morgana exclaimed.

“Because I’m an excellent strategist Morgana.”

She merely stared at him coldly.

“I’ll have thought of something by then.”

She said nothing.

“All right,” Arthur huffed, “meet me back here after evening meal and we’ll talk it through. Now go brush your hair or whatever it is you do all day. I’ve got training to get back out to before someone wonders where I’ve got to.”

Morgana had started to feel triumphant until he’d finished his sentences. Brush her hair, she thought angrily. She gritted her teeth and turned on the spot. Had she not been so worried about Merlin and Gaius she might have taken Arthur to task for being so ignorant of castle duties beyond his own not to mention offence at his patronisation but now was not the time. Nonetheless she fumed as she stormed back to her chambers. Today she had planned to inspect Camelot’s banners before the melee to ensure they were worthy of display, delegating those that weren’t to be repaired or replaced. She had an appointment to inspect and approve materials for new linens and she really should begin to choose works from among the court artisans for some of the more neglected guest rooms. While these were tasks specific to the upcoming tournament they would soon be replaced with the next event. Her daily tasks were perhaps less regimented than Arthur’s but they were not less. A castle as large as Camelot required a lot of oversight. Uther managed finances and held court for the people but the quibbles, purchases, or requirements from the servants were matters that Morgana dealt with. Not that any of those tasks were going to be able to take her mind off what Merlin was facing. Let Arthur insult her for now, so long as he followed through on preventing Merlin’s execution.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“That’s your plan?” Morgana exclaimed in disbelief. “Waiting until the guards pass out from drunkenness?”

“It’s perfect. I changed the duty roster. Loefsig and Hayeward can’t be in the same room together without starting a drinking competition. One of them is sure to smuggle something in, all we need do is wait. Best of all when it’s discovered that Merlin went missing on their watch Loefsig is the youngest son of the Earl of Ormstedale, father can’t afford to punish him severely and have his eight brothers disgruntled and Hayeward’s father has that horse father’s been admiring.”

“You’re setting them up,” Morgana was more than surprised, she was shocked. She’d known Arthur to be straightforward or strategic but never cunning or calculated.

“I think of it as more of a lesson,” Arthur said glibly, “a test. If they can’t be trusted with a prisoner like Merlin then they certainly shouldn’t be trusted with someone who truly is a threat. A failure now will teach them a good lesson and they’ll be making it up to me in extra sword practice.”

Suddenly it struck Morgana. “You’re going to use them by punishing them with extra training for the melee. To help yourself!”

“P-lease,” Arthur shook his head, “I don’t need help. I’m the finest knight in Camelot.”

“Well I suppose we’ll see soon won’t we,” she taunted but Arthur remained irritatingly confident. She huffed. “How long before we can go?”

“It’s about time now.”

“And you’re sure the house in the lower town will be safe for Merlin to hide in?”

“Yes, yes,” Arthur said, “the tanner always trades in the outer villages for at least a week and I saw him leave yesterday. Do you have the extra cloak for Merlin?”

“Yes,” Morgana glanced down at the bundle in her hands. Arthur’s idea was that if they were seen by the guards he would declare himself and act as if he was escorting two women back to their homes. Arthur had thought the idea of Merlin dressing as a woman quite amusing. Morgana had just rolled her eyes. Arthur was far too easily entertained. This was a matter of life and death. She had no doubts Merlin would go along with it. He was a man of sense. It was just a servant woman’s cloak. Morgana imagined that if Arthur were in Merlin’s place he wouldn’t be so compliant, likely putting up such a fuss about a mere disguise that they’d probably be caught before leaving the dungeons.

“Last chance to back out. I can do this on my own,” Arthur told her.

She shook her head.

Arthur grumbled something about letting her talk him into things and they set off.

The corridors were quiet, not that it particularly mattered in this part if they were seen. It was only as they got to the door that led to the lower stairs that they need be careful. Fortunately, they seemed to have passed the last servant some time back.

“See,” Arthur whispered, “no problem.”

Morgana wished he wouldn’t keep saying that. She’d thought the same once with Tom. Poor Gwen’s father.

Arthur lifted his hand as they reached the curve of the stairs. “Wait here,” he mouthed.

Morgana followed him with her eyes as he continued to the bottom and peered quickly around the corner. He sent her a triumphant smile and indicated she should come down.

“Out like a light,” Arthur shook his head and folded his arms, all signs of gleefulness disappearing. “Downright disgraceful.”

“I thought that’s what we wanted.”

“Sure for our situation but I expect better from Camelot’s guards. Much better.”

Morgana had nothing to say to that. She’d snuck in and out of Camelot enough times to know that it was always a risky business but very possible.

Arthur had returned to focusing on their goal and bent down to retrieve the keys from one of the guard's belts. “Come on.”

Together they crept through the darkened hall to the cell containing Merlin.

Except it didn’t contain Merlin at all. It was empty!

They stared at each other silently.

“Hmm,” Arthur uttered after a moment. “Seems Merlin has some friends.” He tossed the keys roughly on the ground.

Morgana remembered that when she’d left with Morgause Merlin had spoken of those working in Camelot for magic. Had they helped him? “Why shouldn’t he have friends?”

“I’m not saying he shouldn’t,” Arthur retorted.

Morgana shot him a quizzical look. “You seem put out.”

“I ought to be, some tavern flies have bested Camelot’s guards! It’s outrageous. What if Merlin had been a dangerous sorcerer?”

“If he was,” Morgana was thoughtful, “he’d probably have gotten out on his own.” Morgana stared at the empty cell. The lock, the keys, the guards. It was a clean escape which must have happened only moments before she and Arthur got there. Her skin was prickling next to the cold iron bars of the cell that tried to dampen her magic and yet . . .and yet there was something.

“Oh please,” Arthur argued interrupting her thoughts, “we’ve had countless sorcerers in here. None have escaped . . . without help.”

Morgana looked away disconcerted by the memory. Was Arthur referring to Alvarr’s escape? Morgana occasionally wondered what had become of the bandit leader she’d helped free and the crystal. Mostly she wondered if he’d ever found Mordred again. She’d enquired of Morgause early on if she knew anything of either of them. The priestess had said that she’d heard of the bandit leader and that he’d been in Cendred’s lands not long ago but she’d not heard of any child being with him. Morgause had been strangely quick to move on, more focused on the missing crystal of Neahtid and telling Morgana of the differences between it and the crystals Morgause sometimes used to see present events. Her thoughts were returning to the unsettling empty cell when the warning bells tolled.

Arthur’s eyes went wide. “Stupid fool. Why didn’t he wait for me? Quick Morgana, get yourself back to your chambers. I’ll have to deal with this.”

“What will you do?” Morgana cried. If Merlin was caught a second time it would be very difficult if not impossible to break him out again. Morgana’s hand covered her mouth as a more horrifying thought occurred. What if he resisted or tried to flee and some overzealous guard killed him? “What if –.”

“Morgana!” Arthur said firmly cutting her off. “I will make sure the guards have clear instructions not to harm him. Now go!”

Morgana nodded and ascended the stairs. She knew that Arthur meant it. She knew he would do all in his power to keep Merlin from harm but would it be enough?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The warning bells faded but the sound of guards stalking about in the square below continued. Morgana stared out her window below. She’d seen no sign of the search stopping which was surely a sign that Merlin hadn’t been found . . . yet but it did nothing to calm her. She thought she had been done with feeling helpless when she’d begun to learn magic but it didn’t solve everything. It couldn’t she supposed. After a time she sat wearily in her chair. She was tired, how could she not be after having spent the two previous nights with little rest? Nonetheless, sleep would be impossible, she thought and yet some minutes later she found herself jolted awake. For a moment she got the strange sense she was someone else. There was knowledge just beyond her grasp, things she needed to know and power. A lot of power.

It made her gasp for a moment, astonished, needing, wanting but it pulled away. Gone. She massaged her temple and tried to understand. It was like trying to remember a dream that she just didn’t have enough memory of.

Coming to a little more she wondered about this sensation. Was this something to do with what she sensed the other night? The magic in Camelot that seemed sometimes to call out to her? Wakening her to some purpose? Provoking her magic to the fore?

She wasn’t sure, perhaps there was a link, somehow but it was all so irritatingly elusive. If she could only find the source of it there might be some clarity. She wondered if now was a good time to be seeking it. Could it help her? Help Merlin? Was it a good idea to do this with a goblin possessing Gaius? Morgana decided against it. There were too many unknowns.

The night wore on. Morgana dozed and startled as distant sounds reminded her of the search, she stretched and paced and waited. Finally, the dawn lit the edges of the city and slowly brightened the square.

Outside her chamber, she heard footsteps approach. Too early and heavy for Gwen and with the distinct clink of armor. Arthur’s she realised had a certain sound. She tensed.

A knock, strangely soft, making her hear race with more anxiety.

“Enter,” she called straightening herself imperiously.

Arthur pushed open the door and entered. “You’re still awake, have you had any sleep?”

Morgana shrugged, “what’s happened? Did you find him?”

“No, he seems to have gotten away.”

Morgana breathed.

Arthur gave her a slightly quizzical look but seemed to have let the thought go. “I’m about to report to Father.”

“What about Gaius? What are we to do about him?”

“No need to worry about that, Morgana.” Arthur pulled at his gloves. “I plan on getting to the bottom of that shortly.”

“You do?” Morgana said with a rising level of skepticism.

“Yes, I’ll ask Gaius to meet with me. “I’ll get the truth out of him.”

Morgana was absolutely aghast. “And just how do you plan on doing that?”

“Just a little subterfuge,” Arthur said off-handedly. “We both know Gaius, the real Gaius, would never want to willingly harm Merlin. A few choice questions and I’ll know for certain what we’re dealing with or what this is about.”

Morgana was dumbfounded at his naivete. “And what if Gaius is possessed?”

“I’ll call for the guards of course. We’ll arrest him, put him in the dungeons and I’ll speak to Father. He will have no choice but to pardon Merlin.”

“Just like that,” Morgana said disbelief laced in every word. “You think a goblin is going to allow himself to be captured so easily? And even if he did what happens to Gaius?”

“Obviously it will leave Gaius’ body once it knows he’s headed for execution. We won’t let anything happen to the real Gaius.”

“Do you seriously think Uther would take the risk?” Morgana was appalled at Arthur’s woefully inadequate grasp of the situation and felt only slightly mollified when she saw Arthur have a moment of doubt.

“I’ll admit there are a few kinks.”

“A few?” Morgana had her arms folded. “This is a goblin Arthur, a creature of magic. I think we ought to be very careful how we deal with it.”

“And what would you know about a creature of magic Morgana?”

The question was meant to be a patronising taunt designed to remind her of her place. It riled her. “Evidently a lot more than you!” She spat.

Arthur’s eyes darted from her to the door and he dropped his voice.  “Don’t let father hear you saying such things. Especially not at a time like this. I thought you were done defying him.”

Morgana fought the urge to respond rashly. She wasn’t done, not done by a long shot but it would undo everything if she said so. “I just don’t want to see an innocent man executed or Camelot harmed.”

“Nor do I,” Arthur said reassuringly. “That’s why I’m doing this.”

When he used that tone and made that particular face Morgana did feel a certain amount of confidence . . . but it also unfortunately came with an equal amount of dread and it increased dramatically at Arthur’s next words.

“Don’t worry Morgana. There isn’t a magical creature that has defeated me yet.”

She pursed her lips. “This is a terrible idea, Arthur.”

“Do you have a better one?”

She bit her lip. She couldn’t go to Morgause now, not with guards on high alert looking for Merlin. Even if she could Morgause might not know anything about how to deal with goblins. It didn’t follow that just because Morgause knew a great deal about magic that she also knew everything about magical creatures of all kinds. If things got desperate then she would take the risk but for now, there was another option. “I thought,” Morgana began, “I could look for some information on magical creatures in Gaius’ books or even the library.”

“Right, good idea. That way if we do have to force a goblin out of Gaius we might have some options.”

That wasn’t exactly what Morgana was thinking. She’d been thinking more about how to protect themselves from its magic. “Arthur I really don’t think it’s a good idea to tip our hand.” She tried again.

“You’re worrying for nothing Morgana. I’ll check in with you when Gaius is detained – if he actually needs to be.”

“Are you truly still doubting the truthfulness of Merlin?” Morgana demanded.

Arthur halted, “no,” he said simply. He seemed a little stunned at his confession. “But in my position, I can’t afford to assume.”

Morgana fell silent as he left. Arthur wasn’t willing to let his friendship or his trust in Merlin be his guide, not until he was certain by other means that Gaius was the guilty part. It irked her but she had to acknowledge there was something noble about it. Something Kingly, she supposed. Not so rash as Uther, not so willing to condemn. She also had to acknowledge that she couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t. Loyalty was more important to her than fairness. Merlin had said Gaius was a goblin and that was enough for her. He was worthy of that loyalty, of that trust. She only hoped she could find some help in one of Camelot’s books.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Morgana had forsaken Gaius’ books for the library. There were too many shelves in the physician's chambers that seemed to have no rhyme or reason – at least not to her. However, the library had sections that were more easily navigated.

She’d passed Sir Geoffrey on the way in and offered him some explanation of requiring some background information for guests of the melee. Being Uther’s ward did allow her access to much of the books, it never seemed to occur to either Geoffrey or the King that she could easily read forbidden archives once out of sight. Perhaps because she was a woman or perhaps because they simply didn’t believe she would want to read them. What she couldn’t do was take them out past Geoffrey. She hoped that wouldn’t be necessary.

She’d pulled out a few selections about creatures of Camelot but they were all too mundane. It then occurred to her that goblins mightn’t be catalogued as creatures, instead, they may be more likely to be grouped with ghosts and shades or something else entirely. She began to despair as to what a mammoth task this was. It was then she heard the distant clattering of pots followed by a yelp of pain. Her head snapped up alert before she determined that Sir Geoffrey must have merely dropped something. Just as she was about to return her gaze to the books she carried, her eye caught movement at the end of the library aisle.

Her mouth hung open in astonishment as she saw that it was Merlin, hurrying past. 

What could he be doing down here?

On instinct she moved quietly in the direction he headed, checking each aisle she passed but there was not yet any sign of him.  

She heard a scraping sound a few shelves away. She increased her pace, Merlin had to be there. It was the limit of the library’s walls but when she rounded the final shelf she couldn’t see him. It was impossible. He had to be here. There was nowhere else to go.

She jumped as the scraping sound started again before darting back to the shelf's end. She peered from it, watching as the shelves in one section moved and Merlin emerged. A secret room! Perhaps Merlin had been hiding in there all along but how had he found out about its existence? She pulled herself back out of sight, noting that Merlin was carrying some sort of box in his hands and showed every inclination of being quite set on some purpose.

She followed him silently, aware that calling out might give him away to Geoffrey. Which she presumed Merlin had somehow managed to slip by. She very much doubted Sir Geoffrey would ever assist an accused sorcerer in evading execution. Of course, that wasn’t her only reason.

Merlin was up to something. Something probably to do with the goblin and Morgana wanted to know what. If it had been Arthur sneaking about, Morgana knew he’d try to keep her out of things. Arthur never wanted to get others involved, especially not her. Merlin was oft times more inclusive but he had a stubborn streak too – she’d seen that and if he decided not to let her know what was going on she feared he’d have more success at keeping her out of it than Arthur ever could.

She saw Merlin hesitate as he neared the corner approaching Sir Geoffrey’s desk. He was peering around it. Morgana could not fathom how he expected to get past unseen. He seemed to be pondering it himself.

Morgana watched intently, if Merlin turned he would see her just lingering at a distance but he didn’t. He was unaware of her presence but she was acutely aware of his. This close she could almost imagine he had some kind of aura that was affecting her. Something she could feel.

Suddenly a shiver came over her, brief, so mild as to barely register but distinct. Morgana put her hand over her mouth to smother the gasp she uttered. She needn’t have bothered for another sound – weak, repetitive thuds blotted it out. Merlin had shot forward beyond her sight.

Morgana was frozen for a moment. Had that happened? Could she really have felt what she thought she just felt? There was no time to grapple with her thoughts – not yet. She dashed onwards coming upon Sir Geoffrey on his hands and knees gathering books. “Ah, Lady Morgana. He straightened himself clearly embarrassed. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

Morgana halted frustrated, “Yes, I’ll come back for it later. I just remembered I have something urgent to do,” she paused frowning in the direction Merlin must have taken. She was sure she could find where he’d gone. Surer now than ever. She felt her teeth clench, she supposed a little confirmation wouldn’t hurt and was worth a delay. “May I ask what happened Sir Geoffrey?” Her voice was surprisingly calm.

“Oh, I’m afraid I must have been careless in stacking the books. . . though I could have sworn they were perfectly balanced.”

“I see,” Morgana said. Not proof, but more evidence. “I would offer to help but I can’t delay.”

“That’s quite alright my dear. I’ll be fine.”

Morgana nodded at him as she exited. Now to see if Merlin had gone to the physician's chambers. She did not catch sight of him until the third last corridor, a particularly long one. Yes, there he was, fugitive, eyes glancing everywhere but behind him. She hung back nonetheless, waiting just long enough for him to turn into the next.

Finally, Morgana saw Gaius’ chambers. She approached carefully. Merlin had likely already gone in but what he was up to and perhaps more importantly where was Gaius goblin? There were voices within. Morgana listened carefully.

Gwen’s voice!

Gwen and Merlin were talking but Morgana could not make out their words.

Morgana hung back. Should she enter and demand to know what they were doing? Intrude on whatever it was that she was not a part of. She was still contemplating as a woman’s footsteps, Gwen’s, approached the door. Morgana jumped back and removed herself to a slightly darker alcove. It was not much hidden but if Gwen went straight out she would not see her but the door opened only a crack, away from the direction Morgana stood.

“No sign of him yet,” Gwen’s voice was clear.

Merlin’s voice responded but once again Morgana could not distinguish the words.

Morgana stood still as a statue. The him must be Gaius. Gwen and Merlin were working together. She hoped they knew what they were doing. She folded her arms grumpily. Merlin probably did . . . and Gwen did she know all about it as well?

“He’s coming!” Gwen warned.

Morgana shrunk back, pressing herself into the corner. Gaius headed straight for his door never glancing at her.

Morgana waited in the corridor. If Merlin and Gwen had some sort of carefully laid plan she didn’t want to disrupt it or risk ruining it but she couldn’t leave this alone. If she walked away she might never know the truth. After a moment she crept forward her hand reached out tentatively for the handle and she turned it slowly.

“You’ve poisoned me,” she heard Gaius say. “You’ve poisoned Gaius!”

Merlin spoke in response. “Leave his body while you still can!”

There was a dense thudding sound as Merlin shouted at Gwen to give the antidote. Morgana on the other side of the door wasn’t sure what was happening. Her hand paused as the door lock made its final click. It wouldn’t do to go barging in, allowing the goblin to get out if Merlin and Gwen had somehow cornered it. Suddenly there was the sound of shattering and clinking glass. After that, it all happened very quickly. Morgana heard a voice she didn’t recognise taunting Merlin, scuffling and banging followed by the same strange voice muffled. Gwen was crying in distress that Gaius was dying. It was then Morgana entered.

Merlin and Gwen were on their knees searching bottles, Gaius was lying on the floor and the container Merlin had been carrying was jiggling and moaning.

“I think it’s this one,” Merlin picked up a bottle.

Gwen looked unconvinced.

Morgana had put the information together. The antidote that Merlin had called for lay among the bottles and they weren’t sure which. Gaius was obviously the intended recipient and the goblin had been somehow removed and captured. She hardly gave it a thought before she spoke, ““Paet āsēċaþ, clēafan, achtung bregdan.”

The much-needed bottle rolled into Merlin’s hands. He grabbed it, gave it a moment’s notice then just as quickly, finally snapped his gaze toward her understanding that she was the source of such movement.

Morgana stared coldly back but he unsurprisingly failed to interpret or even register much more than her role in him getting the needed antidote. He was already rushing over to Gaius with it.

“Morgana!” Gwen said in surprise but she too promptly turned her attention to Gaius.

Merlin had poured the antidote down Gaius’ throat but there was no response.

Morgana was horrified. Perhaps her spell had not chosen the right one or perhaps they were too late. What had Merlin and Gwen done?

Merlin’s distress was obvious.  “Gaius! Come on! Please! Come on, you stubborn old goat!”

Finally, Gaius stirred, his eyes fluttering open. “Who are you calling an old goat?”

Merlin and Gwen were relieved, gushing over each other and the physician. Morgana watched silently on. She was relieved of course. Despite their recent differences, she cared for Gaius but much of the circumstances had happened in her absence and there was still the matter of Merlin’s suspected activities. She listened passively as Merlin and Gwen explained to Gaius what had occurred. Continued to stand unmoved as the three made plans as to how to approach Uther about the events.

“And of course there’s Arthur,” Gwen said suddenly, “what will we do about what the goblin did to him?”

“Arthur?” Morgana found herself chorusing with Gaius.

“He's a donkey,” Gwen said biting her lip.

Morgana’s eyes widened.

“A what?” Gaius said shocked.

Gwen shrugged helplessly. “I mean, not a whole donkey. He’s still himself just with donkey ears and well, unable to talk and he’s . . . braying.”

Morgana covered her mouth, then despite everything she had been feeling, laughed. She had warned Arthur that a goblin wasn’t to be taken lightly but he was so smug, so patronising and now he had donkey’s ears. Morgana had to see it for herself! He was not going to hear the end of this.

Gwen giggled first as Merlin joined in and even Gaius was cracking a smile.

“We shouldn’t laugh,” Gaius warned but his lips were still bordering on a smirk, “he is the prince.”

Morgana did not feel the slightest bit rebuked, “I’ve always thought he was an ass!”

Merlin’s laughter increased and their eyes joined in mutual merriment. Morgana didn’t want to share an intimate moment with Merlin right now. She wanted to tear her eyes away before he had the devastating effect of making her forget that there were things to be settled but those blue eyes of his sparkled in delight at what she had said. How could she possibly ignore that? But how could she ignore the events in the library?

The laughter died mutually.

“I’m sure if I look through my books, I can find a remedy that will undo the effect,” Gaius said and Morgana caught the look he shot Merlin. A silent communication of some sort.

“Can a remedy really be expected to undo magic?” Morgana cut in, knowing it probably couldn’t. She saw Merlin gulp and it was then she knew exactly what she would do. How to test this new theory of hers? How to play her own game for once instead of being played as she thought she had been.  

“Oh, I think so,” Gaius said smoothly, “most likely a matter of Arthur eating something a donkey wouldn’t eat.”

“I hope so,” Morgana said carefully, “I’d hate to think we’d have to resort to magic to undo such a thing. We certainly couldn’t be expected to find a willing sorcerer in Camelot, unless Merlin wants to give it a shot.”

“What?” Merlin began his reaction just as she expected. “I . . . uh, I’m not -” he broke off as she stared at him hard. His eyes dropped.

Perhaps he had a modicum of shame after all.

Gwen was looking a little puzzled and Gaius perturbed.

Morgana noted their reactions as much as Merlin’s. She smiled sweetly and forced a laugh. “I’m teasing you, Merlin, about being accused of sorcery.”

“Of course,” he laughed nervously but his eyes continued to rest on hers thoughtfully.

She looked away first.  It was unfair of him to try to read her when she had apparently been so blind to him. “I’ll leave you three to the details. I’ll go check on Arthur.”

Gwen opened her mouth and Morgana expected to hear the maidservant offer to go with her but Gwen suddenly blushed and said nothing, seeming to think better of it.

Gwen must have some reason to stay and Morgana found herself tired of guessing everyone’s motives. She supposed she should be glad of some time alone to think and she was but she was also done with being passive. She wasn’t going to play it safe anymore and wait for answers to come to her. She was going to find them, force them out if she had to. With this in mind, she halted at the threshold, turned ever so slightly and with all the sway her position afforded her spoke. “Merlin, by the way when this is all sorted. I’d like to speak to you privately. The sooner the better.”

She didn’t wait for a response; it was not a request but she saw Merlin nod his ascent slowly before she departed.  

 She headed for Arthur, perhaps his appearance would lighten her mood before she had to confront Merlin about her suspicions.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter Text

Morgana didn't pace, she didn't move, she simply stared out the window of her bedchamber at the courtyard below, fingers interlocked as if their grip held her in place. Her mood had not improved upon seeing Arthur. How could it? She was preoccupied with matters that couldn't be dispelled with the simple amusement of Arthur with donkey ears. At any rate, seeing Arthur in such a state had not cheered her. It had frustrated her. Even with donkey ears, he was full of bravado. Drawing a sword on her with the presumption that she intended to mock and tease him, pointing animatedly at the door for her to leave. She didn't laugh. She didn't mock. She'd left, telling him only that Gaius was free of the goblin and that a cure for his own ailments was sure to follow. Arthur had given her a puzzled look as she left, wondering at her behaviour, no doubt.

His behaviour was what he should reflect on. Bravery in a prince, a future king was desirable but only if it was tempered with wisdom. Arthur's predicament was a result of a lack of prudence. It worried her – or added to her worries. If he continued to treat magic so bullheadedly, he was going to end up dead or worse like Uther; bitter, frightened, reckless and full of hate.

For a moment, staring at him with donkey ears, Morgana had wished she'd known some spell to undo the goblin's magic. To prove magic could be used for good but she couldn't imagine what might have happened if she had. Arthur was so unwilling to be seen as needing anyone's help . . . especially hers, that his ego would have railed at such a thing, even dismissed it as unnecessary. Oh, his pride would probably have stopped him from having her hauled off to the dungeons for sorcery but as for what it would mean in the long term she did not know. She doubted he would be accepting of magic all of a sudden. He would be confused, adversarial and suspicious. She had come to a horrifying conclusion in that moment, that knowledge of her magic would not change Arthur's opinion of it.

But someone else, someone close to him, someone he thought of as less threatening to him might have a chance at it.

Her clasped fingers moved from their position at her waist to cover her heart, as she frowned in thought.

Merlin.

Merlin's magic. She could not avoid the magnitude of her discovery. If down in that darkened library she'd seen his eyes glow perhaps she could have convinced herself it was a trick of the light, or if she'd heard an incantation, she might be able to persuade herself that her ears had been fooled, but she had felt the wave of magic emanating from him and that, she could not dismiss. It was familiar and very real. She'd been trying to hold off putting all the pieces together since that moment but they were hitting her hard and fast now. All the signs, all those curious moments – the strange bond she'd felt with him, his attitude towards Mordred and other magic users including herself, his knowledge of the druids, Gwen's father recovering from that illness with a poultice Gwen swore to Morgana she knew nothing of! The magic suddenly appearing in the sleeping draught.

She was breathing hard, leaning against and gripping the window sill for support. There were more moments most likely that she knew nothing of, or that she had failed to see. She felt a sudden rising terror at how much. Had Merlin been meddling with her sleeping draughts all along? He was, after all, the power she'd felt in the castle, the presence that called out to her. The knowledge slammed into her. He had woken her magic! Why would he do that? Had he some plan to infiltrate Camelot? Had he been sent by some magical rebellion? Some group like Alvar's? Did he mean them all harm? And, if he had woken her why had he never told her of his own magic? How could he have pretended all this time? So, well too, even escaping the notice of Morgause.

Morgana's tumultuous thoughts halted. Merlin had sent her with Morgause. At the time he'd told her that was what others in the kingdom wanted. That they believed Arthur would, in time be a good king. A future version of herself had spoken with Morgause and she'd said the same. Were they to be believed? She tried to think logically. Were any of Merlin's actions against her? Against Camelot? She had to admit that so far they didn't appear to be. Perhaps she was overreacting. . . at least on some levels.

His face swam before her, those thoughtful blue eyes that sometimes turned shrewd and hard, that goofy grin that occasionally turned warm and sincere, the inner strength that she'd sensed but never been able to comprehend and the solitude that sometimes shadowed his expression. Much of it made sense now. It tempered her fears and yet . . .

He'd lied.

Lied to her and lied a lot! She should be angry. Some part of her was but it felt old and distant. It surprised her to realise the reason for this lesser ire was because that part of her had known all along that Merlin had magic. She felt irritated with herself for that – it might have been more helpful for that part of her to speak up earlier! But if she wasn't angry what did she feel about this?

She contemplated it as she stared back out at the courtyard below. The sun was fading and the shadows were deepening, the courtyard was emptying of life.

Fear. That's what she felt. Fear of confronting Merlin. Not because she feared his magic, not at all, but because she feared he would deny having it. She feared what she would do if he tried to dismiss her suspicions. She feared he would lie to her again. She feared for her heart and what such a thing would do to her. She feared what she might become.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Merlin gave a couple of unnecessary wipes to the already clean workbench in Gaius's chambers and ran his eyes around searching for the next spot to clean. Most things had generally been put to rights that the fight with the goblin had upset but there were a few out-of-place stacks of books that had not been returned to the shelves.

"Merlin," Gaius said stepped in front of him, broom in hand. "Don't you think you've put it off long enough?"

"Put what off?" Merlin affected an air of innocence but Gaius only shot him a knowing look. "Speaking with Morgana.

Merlin relented. "What am I going to say to her?"

"You will say nothing," Gaius instructed, "Let her do the talking. You can't be sure she knows anything about you. She may wish to confide in you something about Morgause or any number of other things."

"But that look she gave me Gaius. It was accusing. She knows I'm sure she does."

"How could she?" Gaius shook his head. "You've told me everything haven't you?" The physician peered into Merlin's face searchingly.

"Yes, but that look and that barb about being arrested for sorcery."

"She explained it was a joke," Gaius dismissed, "besides if, and I wouldn't go jumping to conclusions," Gaius waggled a finger warningly, "if she does know then it is all the more reason you speak to her and know her intentions."

Merlin nodded. "I'll go now."

Gaius agreed. "Just be careful and patient."

Merlin exited the chamber and walked the halls. Gaius could warn and advise but he didn't seem to understand the enormity of the situation. If Morgana really did know about his magic, if she'd found out before he told her things between them would be strained at best. This was a worrying concept. His other self had warned him to keep Morgana a friend of Camelot. Her discovering he'd kept his magic from her was not likely to assist in that directive. There were other concerns. Would Morgana be so angry that she told Arthur? He didn't think she would go as far as to tell Uther but it was a possibility he couldn't entirely rule out. There was also the question of whether or not she would tell Morgause and what Morgause would do about it.

He worried over the potential scenarios as he made his way to her door. He knocked firmly, having already steeled himself so as to not delay.

Morgana opened it. She was pale and barely looked him in the eye. "Merlin," she greeted pulling open the door a little more.

"You wished to see me," he said as if this were simply a matter of protocol.

"Yes." She paused, seeming anxious. "Come in." She ushered him in and closed the door behind them then took up position near her dresser. Distant enough to be respectable.

Her demeanour surprised him. She was ill at ease, not angry. Maybe he didn't have anything to worry about.

"How is Arthur," she asked, "is he cured?"

It was a preamble to whatever she really wanted to talk about but Merlin thought it best to go along with it. "Uh yes," Merlin answered, "Gaius-"

"No!" she cut in holding up her hand, looking distressed. "Don't say it, Merlin," she seemed to be warning him, "don't tell me how it was done. It is enough to know that it has been."

"It has." He fell silent. He did not know why Morgana had halted his explanation. It was strange of her to do so, she usually liked to be familiar with the details but it had a startling effect of pricking his conscience. He felt strangely chided over the casual lie he'd almost told her. He'd been going to lie that Gaius had found a cure, he was even going to give a whole spiel of details such as he'd given to the King, to Arthur and even to Gwen. All of it to cover up that it was his magic that had undone the donkey enchantment with quiet spoke words, while Arthur was distracted eating some herbal concoction that Gaius credited with being offensive to donkeys or some such thing. It made him wonder, had lying become so commonplace to him that he no longer gave thought as to who, what or why? Was he so comfortable with it that he felt no guilt? No hesitation? No remorse?

"And Uther has pardoned you?" Morgana insisted on the small talk.

"Yes," Merlin replied. That answer was simple enough.

"Good," she nodded just once. Her hands folded across herself as she kept perfectly still. Unnaturally still and unnaturally quiet.

Merlin was doing his best to follow Gaius's advice. Keep calm, don't offer things up, don't presume but it was difficult in the wake of the continued silence.

"I was down in the library earlier," Morgana began the real discussion at last, "looking for some way to help Gaius and you."

Merlin took this in. She'd been down in the library trying to help him? Down in the library where he'd found the goblin. Where he'd returned to get the container from the secret room. His mind raced. What had she seen? What did she know? Did she know he was responsible for releasing the goblin? "I can explain," the words came unbidden perhaps too automatically.

"I'm not sure I want you to," Morgana turned away. "Not if you're going to lie."

Merlin snapped his mouth shut immediately. He hadn't intended to lie . . . had he? Probably not. He looked at her directly. "I won't."

"Won't you? Haven't you?" she said.

Merlin's throat began to dry up. She was angry. She knew he had lied about something; it was just a question of which particular lie. "What do you want to know Morgana?" he avoided answering.

"Tell me, Merlin!" She shouted. "Say it!"

Merlin moistened his lips. Did she mean what he thought she meant? Was this about his magic? Or was this, as he'd first thought, about the release of the goblin? "I released the goblin," he confessed to the lesser of the two.

She looked shocked. Merlin grimaced because that meant he had made the wrong choice.

"From that secret room?" She concluded. "Aren't you full of surprises."

"Morgana," he began placatingly taking a step towards her, unsure what he was going to say or do next but knowing he ought to offer something.

"Don't!" Morgana cautioned angrily as her eyes flashed gold.

The nearby table vibrated and wobbled at the same time as a percussive force hit Merlin and Morgana forcing them apart.

Merlin kept his footing better than Morgana who stumbled backwards grabbing at the poster bed to keep her balance. She shot her eyes to him wide. "Why would you do that?" she accused.

"I – I didn't," Merlin defended himself truthfully.

"Oh give it up Merlin. I know. I felt what you did to sneak by Sir Geoffrey, I felt the magic in the potion you gave me the other night. I've put together all the pieces. I know!"

She was furious, he had always suspected she would be but it was the expression of pain on her face that really made him feel wretched. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" She paced. "Sorry that you lied countless times to me? Sorry that you brought my magic to the fore and then let me think I was all alone here in Camelot with it? Sorry that I haven't been killed for it yet? Or sorry that you just tried to throw me across the room with it?"

Merlin's stomach dropped and churned. She had time to have concluded all of it. That he was the cause of her magic, her endangerment, her loneliness. He was guilty. "I didn't throw you," he asserted weakly.

Her face was thunderous. Merlin realized belatedly it was the wrong thing to focus on.

"So, you warded me off or whatever, that was hardly the point!"

"I know, I didn't mean to dismiss those things, it's just I didn't use my magic on you just now. I do have it. I do have magic." The secret was said but there was no relief for either of them.

Morgana looked more pained than she had before, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. His heart clenched tormented by the anguish he saw. He was horrified by the depths of it. He had not realized that she would be so impacted by the truth. "I truly am sorry," he offered helplessly, "I never meant to hurt you."

"I'm supposed to believe that? I don't know who you are any more Merlin." The anger in her voice was draining away and she sat on her bed wearily.

"Your friend," he tried desperately.

Morgana snapped her head up and laughed sardonically. "So, you thought you'd waken my magic?"

"I didn't mean to do that. I didn't even know I had until recently."

"Seems you didn't mean to do a lot of things, Merlin."

He had no response to that because it was true.

"What about my sleeping draughts? Have you been putting spells on them all?"

"No," Merlin said hurriedly. "Just the one from the other night." He saw an opportunity to share something redeeming with her. Something that showed her that his intentions towards her were not all reprehensible. "I feared the goblin had cursed it so I blessed it with sleep, for you."

"Sleep?" she said disbelieving. "Nothing more? Not nightmares or dreams or . . . poison?"

Merlin's mouth fell open, "I would never-," he broke off. He almost had. Did she know? He feared meeting her eyes, scared that he would see that knowledge reflected in her eyes, along with the disgust and condemnation he deserved for it. After a moment he forced himself to lift his gaze and meet hers. He had no right to deny her but there was no hint of it, she was only wan and thoughtful.

"Prove it," she said, suddenly animated and getting up went to her dresser and opened a drawer. She took a vial from it and held it out. "Drink it."

It was the potion he had given her the other night. Merlin took it. "Now?"

"Yes, now." Her anger was back.

He was at a loss as to how his every reaction, every choice of words, just made things worse. He didn't seem able to stop himself. He tried to word his next statement very carefully. "I'll drink it, Morgana, right now if you want but I just want you to know, it will work quickly. I'll be asleep on your floor – maybe for hours.

"You want a bed is that it?" she said incredulously.

"No!" he cried exasperatedly.

"Why not," she said pushing him back until his knees pressed into her mattress and he sat down forcefully upon it. "Go ahead, take mine."

"Morgana!" he protested but she was glaring so hard at him that he knew there was nothing more he could do than comply. He unbottled the draught, took one look at her hovering over him and drank it.

It hit him almost immediately, the woozy, fatiguing feeling that he was about to lose consciousness. He sought Morgana's reaction hazily, hoping to see her reassured at least but she was putting one hand to her head and the other was grasping to steady herself against the bed beside him.

Her eyes were closing. "Merlin," she murmured distressed, "what have you done?"

The last thing he saw before he lost consciousness was her collapse beside him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-three

Merlin’s eyes were heavy, it was difficult to wake but he was aware he was in a strange place. There was a smell, fragrant, simple and not like the complex pungent mix of Gaius’ apothecary. Also, whatever he was lying on was very soft. Such a pleasant place to be asleep except he had a feeling he shouldn’t be here. When he finally managed to force his lids open, he realized why. There before his face, inches away, was Morgana, her dark lashes fluttering delicately against her pale skin. He sat upright, scrambling back from her remembering that they had both passed out in her chambers. He didn’t understand it. There was no reason why Morgana should be affected by the potion or something that he drank. Nothing he knew of anyway. Yet she had passed out. She was still lying across the bed, as he had been, and she showed no signs of stirring. Merlin began to worry, what if something was wrong? He moved back towards her, she was still breathing. Her hair lay splayed out over her face untidily, unthinkingly Merlin reached out to brush errant strands from her mouth. He was leaning over her as she opened her eyes.

“Emrys”, she intoned distantly.

He froze. Emrys. So, she knew that too, did she? He stared into her eyes as she stared back. A sudden weightiness to the moment pinned them there, locked in position. Everything suggested she was waiting for him, perhaps to speak, to move or to take some other action and Merlin was almost certain he had decided to, almost sure he had bent his head ever so slightly toward Morgana when he heard a sound at the door. He didn’t have time to move from his position hovering over Morgana’s prone frame, hand still in her hair.

“Good morning Morg--,” Gwen cut herself off, “oh I’m so sorry, um,” the maidservant was lost for words, scandalized and clearly drawing all sorts of conclusions. Her expressions were shifting from embarrassment to shock and even condemnation even as she began a retreat.

Merlin removed himself from the bed, “Wait Gwen,” he called her back, “it’s not what it looks like.”   

Morgana had stood hurriedly as well and was smoothing down her clothes. “It most certainly is not.” She added firmly and there was no disguising the coolness of her tone.

Merlin grimaced, being knocked unconscious had clearly not quelled Morgana’s irritation with him – not surprisingly. Whatever he might have said or done a moment ago would likely not have been received well.

“It’s none of my business,” Gwen stammered, still edging toward the door. “I should have knocked.”

“No look, it’s all very explainable,” Merlin began. He glanced at Morgana who arched a brow at him maliciously, encouraging him to go ahead and offer up some reason. It occurred to him then that he really didn’t have an explanation for what had happened – not one he could offer either Gwen or even Morgana. How and why had Morgana fallen unconscious?

Gwen was still waiting for an explanation and Morgana’s gaze intensified urging him to say something. He fumbled for some version of the truth. “Uh, we were just . . .” he spied the empty vial from the sleeping draught on the floor and snatched it up. “Gaius gave Morgana this sleeping draught while he was a goblin. Morgana was giving it back to me last night to have Gaius check it for magic, you know to dispose of it. Somehow, I must have dropped it and it spilled. Knocked us both clean out. Magic I guess. I came to first and I was just checking on Morgana when you walked in.” He looked over at Morgana wondering if she would confirm his story or not.

Morgana looked at him then Gwen, there was a significant pause before she nodded her head in a supremely convincing fashion, even giving a small smile. “Just as Merlin said,” Morgana said quietly. “Thank goodness it was you Gwen that walked in and not Arthur or Uther.” She spared Merlin a pointed looked that went unnoticed by Gwen.

Merlin gulped, he didn’t even want to think about it.

“Yes,” Gwen agreed legitimately relieved for them, “yes that would have been terrible.” She thoughtfully went on. “You don’t think there’s any residual effects from the potion do you?” She was looking at the floor and biting her lip.

“No braying you mean?” Merlin smirked.

Gwen looked up in slight amusement before her gaze fell back to the vial. “Yes or something like that,” she looked suddenly uncomfortable. 

“Oh, farting,” Merlin said indelicately.

“Merlin!” Gwen and Morgana chorused in protest and Gwen’s face had turned an even darker red.

Both of them were now glaring at him. What was wrong with him? He was not winning points today with either of them. He certainly didn’t need Gwen offside as well as Morgana.

Gwen shifted slightly on the spot. “It might not be safe to stay within the vicinity of where it was spilled. Perhaps we should air the room?”

“It likely served its purpose.” Merlin said, he heard Morgana scoff at his word choice, he hurried on, “I’d say it’s evaporated by now.”

“I think,” Morgana asserted suddenly, “that it is a brilliant idea Gwen to air the room. If there was any magical potion still floating about it would be best to let it dissipate out the windows. I’ve always valued your honest input Gwen.”

Gwen did not notice the inflection but Merlin did. He had the feeling Morgana was chiding him again for lying, this time to Gwen. He was forced to acknowledge he had become compulsive, it did worry him, although in this instance he’d lied avoid Gwen worrying over magic  not to hide use of it.

“You best go Merlin,” Morgana instructed icily, “I’m sure there are plenty of things you need to attend to. More people to knock out with magic for example.”

Merlin’s eyes darted to Gwen who was grimacing back at him sympathetically. He looked back towards Morgana there was not a hint of warmth in her expression. There was so much more he should discuss with the sorceress but it couldn’t be done now with Gwen here. Maybe it was just as well to let Morgana take in what he’d told her so far. It was rational to think so . . . rational but he’d delayed enough and didn’t know if it was wise to allow things to fester. Yet he could not refuse to leave when she told him so plainly to go. He would have to, for now. “My lady,” he bowed reluctantly.

Gwen saw him to the door. “Don’t worry Merlin, she’ll calm down. She won’t hold it against you forever after all it’s not like you conjured the sleeping draught or dropped it on purpose.”

Merlin waited until the door had fully closed before he let his face fall. Gwen was wrong. Morgana wasn’t going to calm down. She hated him, just as he’d feared she would, only it hurt far more than he’d thought possible to see her looking so distant, so unapproachable. In all their disagreements she’d never looked at him like that. So cold. He’d lost her. He’d been warned to keep her a friend of Camelot lest his destiny fail and he’d lost her. Some part of him snidely remarked that Camelot hadn’t lost her, only him. Hadn’t he once decided that it was acceptable if she hated him so long as Arthur and Camelot remained in her heart? What a foolish belief! It wasn’t acceptable, he should have done all he could to avoid it. But it was too late and if it wasn’t then it soon would be because there was so much more he really should tell her. Since she already hated him there was nothing to stop him revealing it all. Nothing but the agony of seeing such remoteness in her eyes.

Merlin walked the corridors full of despair, finally reaching the physicians chambers. He pushed open the door and saw his mentor, sitting at the dining table, lift his head towards him with hope and relief.

“Merlin,” Gaius exclaimed coming forward to embrace him. “Where have you been? I was worried when you didn’t come back from Morgana’s.” The physician stood back and assessed him. “Oh dear, I take it something has gone wrong.”

“She knows Gaius,” Merlin said making his way to a chair. “I’m not even sure exactly how but she knows and she called me Emrys as well.”

“What else did she say,” Gaius pulled out a chair and sat opposite.

“Well, that’s just it, not a lot. We were interrupted.”

The physicians face was all confusion. “By who? Weren’t you with her all night?”

“Well yes but Gwen interrupted this morning and last night it was the sleeping draught. You see Morgana had this potion that goblin you gave her and it knocked us both out – Gaius does goblin magic interact badly with warlock magic?”

“I have no idea. What potion? Merlin, you’re making very little sense.”

“Aren’t I?” Merlin stood and pushed his hands through his hair.

“No.” Gaius answered simply.

Merlin started pacing. “I have to do something Gaius. I have to tell her so much and make her understand somehow.” At the very least he had to keep her on side with Arthur. “I’ve got this terrible feeling of dread.”

“Merlin sit down and eat something,“ Gaius pushed a bowl toward him. “As for telling Morgana don’t you think you ought to take it easy. Even if she knows about your magic there’s no need to tell her everything. Certainly not all at once. I think you need to be very careful Merlin.”

“No!” Merlin uttered sharply, “no Gaius. That’s just it. I need to be careful not to leave anything out.” He sat back down willing the healer to understand. “If I lie anymore to her, I will completely lose her. Not that there is much chance I haven’t already but I’ve got to tell her everything. Now is the time.”

“Everything,” Gaius tone was sombre, “you realise what that entails?”

Merlin felt the bile rising and pushed the bowl of porridge away. “Yes.”

“That’s very risky,” Gaius was shaking his head.

“It would be riskier to keep it from her.” Merlin was certain of that.

Gaius seemed to be thinking it over. “I hope you know what you’re doing Merlin.”

‘Me too.” Merlin said, his expression must have been more pitiful than Gaius’s because the old man patted his arm kindly.

A thoughtful look crept into the eyes of the physician and he stood suddenly. “When you talk to her, give her back this.” Gaius went to a chest, retrieved something before handing it over to Merlin. It was Morgana’s healing bracelet. “It might help to put you slightly in her graces. I found it hidden with some other gold pieces the goblin had stashed.”

Merlin turned it over, he could feel its soothing power. Strange to think Morgause, who he could only describe as calculating, had given Morgana something so warming. Morgana would be glad of its return but it would be a mere token against a slew of atrocious truths. Merlin set his mind to the immediate problem. “Arthur will be looking for me soon.”

“Yes I imagine he will,” Gaius had started to organize elixirs.

“You’ll have to cover for me,” Merlin told him standing.

“What, why?”

“Because I have to speak more with Morgana, I can’t have Arthur waylaying me into chores or hunting trips. This can’t wait any longer.” Merlin was determined the time was at hand, heading for the door once more.  

“But what shall I say to Arthur?” Gaius called.

“I don’t know, tell him I’m gathering herbs or something.”

“Merlin!”

“I have to go now Gaius. The longer I leave it the worse I’ll feel about what I have to say.”

Gaius sighed deeply and gave a single nod. “Good luck.”

Merlin nodded in return. He would need it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Merlin feared he’d run into Arthur or someone else before he got to the library and the secret room within it and hid in the shadows at any sign of movement as he made his way. He’d decided the secret room was the best place for a discussion with Morgana, the only place where they would be guaranteed no interruptions. . . unless Camelot suddenly came under attack. Never out of the realm of possibility.

He’d planned to sneak past Sir Geoffrey with yet another magical distraction but when Merlin found the library door locked he thought it likely he would be spared the trouble.. Merlin’s eyes glowed, “Tospringe.” He crept carefully forward until he spied Geoffrey’s desk unattended. The keeper of the archives must have been elsewhere. One problem down.

Merlin continued down the library to the far end. Found the shelf he was looking for and entered the secret room, he used an incantation to depress the lever a second time allowing the shelf to turn back to its original position. While it was clear from the neglects of the books that Sir Geoffrey and others didn’t visit that part of the library it didn’t mean no one would notice a blank wall where a bookshelf should be.

Merlin looked around at the hidden room and realized the condition. Cobwebs, dust, scrolls and books all over the place, not the nicest place to have a discussion with Morgana but considering the terrible confession facing him the surroundings were unlikely to make a difference. All that really mattered was that it was private.

And there was no time like the present. He took a deep steadying breath.

“Morgana,” he called telepathically. He knew that she had the ability, he’d heard her talk with Morgause and now he supposed she would figure out that he had that ability too. One less thing to tell her.

“Merlin?” Morgana squeaked mentally, her pitch surprisingly clear in his head.

“Yes, it’s me. I have this ability too. Look we need to talk more and I’m -.”

“I just knocked the goblet I was drinking from all over the floor because of you,” she interrupted, “and no we don’t.”

“Morgana please, we can’t leave it as it,” Merlin pleaded. If she wasn’t going to come, what would he do? Insist? Go to her? Risk being accosted by Arthur and dragged off to some tiresome training? Just let things be? She knew he had magic and if she wasn’t willing to hear the rest wasn’t that on her? He folded his arms. That was cowardly, stupid thinking and Merlin knew it.

“We can,” Morgana was firm, “Besides I’m with Uther right now.”

“Uther?” Merlin felt a bolt of fear.

“I’m not telling him anything if that’s what you’re worried about,” Morgana’s mental voice was thick with irritation. “I don’t side against my kin.”

He ignored the slight towards him knowing it was deserved and focused instead on the offence he’d caused. “I didn’t mean . . .” Merlin broke off, he didn’t mean to telepathically announce his fear but he certainly had been worried. With his new found resolution for truth he continued. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have thought that of you. I know that you wouldn’t. We really do need to talk though.”

“I’ll get back to you,” she sent curtly.

Merlin wondered when but he was careful not to voice it. He looked around at the messy surrounds, pondered whether he should return to his duties with Arthur after all and give Morgana some time.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Morgana pulled unhappily at the damp gown, drenched by the cup of water she had knocked. It was not like her to be so graceless and she could tell Uther thought so as well.

“Is your sleep still suffering Morgana?” He asked and there was slight edge to the King’s tone.

Not concern but suspicion. He was evidently feeling more himself than he had over the last few weeks. “No, no my lord. Actually, I had a very sound sleep last night,” She smiled insincerely and did not allow her voice to add the inflection she wanted to. It had been a very sound sleep indeed. “Perhaps too soundly,” she forced a laugh indicating the spilled cup. “I must be still half asleep.”

Uther was assessing her unnervingly. “Is there something else on your mind?” He appeared to go back to cutting at his food. “You seem preoccupied of late.”

He threw the words at her as if they were a casual observation. Morgana dipped her head demurely as her mind raced to come up with some excuse, neither lack of sleep nor details of the melee would work this time.

Uther leaned forward. “Your reluctance to answer suggests there is something.”

Morgana tried to keep herself calm. It wasn’t as if Uther could ever possibly guess what was really bothering her but he might jump to any number of problematic conclusions and equally unacceptable solutions if she didn’t come up with something to direct his attention to. “It really is nothing,” she shrugged debating about whether she really should follow through on the idea that had occurred to her. One look at Uther’s penetrating gaze decided her. “It’s Arthur.”

“Arthur?” Uther was all attention now.

So predictable it was pathetic. She had been going to mention her concerns about how easily Arthur had fallen into the goblin’s snare and become part donkey but the intense look on Uther’s face made her reconsider. Discussing magic with Uther was ill advised even if it would redirect his focus. She shrugged, “I can’t help but worry about how he’ll fair in the melee. There are so many guests this year.”

Uther broke into a smile and scoffed openly. “Morgana, I’m sure there is no reason for concern on that score.”

The king did not shift his gaze but fell silent. He had something in mind he was preparing to say. Morgana braced herself, he’d already concluded something about her disposition. She locked her expression, keeping it impassive.  

“Morgana,” Uther said seriously, “I know about your riding incident the other day. I heard the report direct from Sir Leon about your concerns regarding bandits. I didn’t want to bring it up with you as the matter seemed settled but -”

“My lord,” Morgana interrupted hurriedly, “it was a moment of concern, an overreaction on my part.”

Uther held up his hand and nodded. “That’s not what this is about. It got me thinking that we didn’t really discuss your abduction.”

Morgana felt her entire body tense. She was not up for this. Not prepared mentally or emotionally for the acting she would need if Uther wanted to discuss Morgause or the bandits. “I’d rather not talk about it. It’s too unpleasant. I’m here, with you now and that’s what matters.” She smiled as sweetly as she could manage hoping to dissuade him.

“Yes,” he said moving his chair around to her placatingly. “That is what is important.” He gave her a charming smile. For a moment she held a brief hope that he would drop it but he continued. “I know it must have been unpleasant being in the bandits camp.” He paused clearly giving careful thought to words, crafting them for whatever he was after. “And I would think your time with that sorceress would have been just as disturbing. You no doubt heard many lies.”

Suddenly Morgana knew this was about her bloodties with Morgause. Uther knew they were sisters and wanted to know if she knew it. He was keeping knowledge of her own sister from her. She held down the anger at his deception and shook her head mildly. “Not really. I was not with Morgause long, I think she planned to ransom me back to you for something, probably a magical artefact or money. She hardly spoke with me.” The lies well-rehearsed for such an occasion came slipping from her tongue easily.

Uther wrinkled his brow. “And all that time since you were with the bandits?”

“Yes.” She kept it simple. She and Morgause had decided it best to make it seem as if they’d spent little time together, what with Uther’s paranoia about sorcery but that had meant concocting the story of bandits capturing her early on. Morgana had known it might lead to awkward questions about her treatment at their hands and perhaps she had not quite realized how unbelievable it was going to sound until she’d been within their camps and seen how they treated captives. Still, she’d stuck to the story and answered Gaius’s questions about uncomfortable topics, knowing her answers would have been relayed to Uther. She’d hoped that would be the end to it.

“When you were there Morgana,” Uther began cautiously, “did you hear anything about their plans to attack Camelot?”

Morgana gasped genuinely stunned by the unexpected question, “no.” When she responded her tone was curt. Was this what Uther was truly getting at? All of this supposed concern for her wellbeing, even dancing around with what Morgause had or had not said to her, none of that really mattered to him. His concern was all for the increasing bandit attacks and what she knew of their plans! On some level she couldn’t fault his concern, Uther had a duty to the Kingdom and its people but what she could fault was his manner of discovering whether she knew anything of it. Preying on her distress, treating her as if she were someone to manoeuvre instead of just plainly stating his need to know. “I’m sorry,” she added stoutly, “they were never in earshot for long. I heard nothing of any such plans. They were quite careful not to speak in front of prisoners.” That was at least the truth.

He smiled indulgently at her and patted her hand, “not to worry. We have them in hand by now. It was a passing thought.” He stood, clearly satisfied even if her answers were unhelpful. He gave her one final look of assessment. “I hate to leave while you’re still dining but I do have a council meeting to attend shortly.”

“My lord, think nothing of it.” She bid him farewell biting down her increasing anger. Uther’s calculated questions infuriated her. Merlin’s manipulations too. Was she everyone’s pawn? Was no one genuine in Camelot?

A nasty streak of self-awareness chose to make itself known. She wasn’t. No pawn and no more genuine than they. She played games, she lied. To Uther, she felt justified. He had lied and manipulated so many, even those closest to him. He had deceived Arthur about his mother’s death to magic, lied about the purge, about Gorlois, he had kept Morgause’s blood relationship from her, he lied with his every act of concern that merely hid selfish motives. It made her ill to think how easily she sometimes still could be fooled to believe he truly cared. She huffed turning her thoughts from Uther to the other deceiver in her life.

Merlin.

Merlin had lied too and that hurt more because she hadn’t expected it from someone she’d thought so honest, someone she’d trusted without reserve . . .something she never did. And while, yes, she’d kept things from him about the mandrake root she’d confessed to him easily enough her and Morgause’s plans and had not lied since. She had been honest with him from the start, perhaps too much. Sharing her fears, her magic, her seers vision of Gwen. She’d even planned to talk about her strange dreams with him.  

She remembered that Merlin was somewhere waiting for her to contact him now. What more could possibly need to be said? He had magic, he’d been the catalyst of her own and he’d kept knowledge of either from her. She stabbed at a piece of fruit on her plate with a knife and then glared at it. She had other things to worry about rather than Merlin, like what was happening with these bandit attacks that even had Uther fishing for information from her? Morgana pushed the fruit through the other items on her plate, the entire perfectly pleasant breakfast had held no appeal from the start.

She let the knife fall with a satisfying clunk against the earthen dish. One of the kitchen servants entering to clear Uther’s plate, made a start at the sound. Morgana gestured to her own plate to be taken and tried not to frighten the girl further with her brooding mood.

Morgana stood debating whether to walk the gardens to calm herself or drag Gwen into the marketplace for a distraction but on exiting the dining hall she discovered the weather had turned ugly. Rain had settled in and the wind was ensuring nothing remained dry. She scowled at the sky.  She couldn’t bear the thought of returning to her room which held no occupation for her mind, nor the parlor where the last remaining melee tasks were begging her attention. What she really needed was to find something interesting enough to take her mind off of . . .  liars.

She knew just the place.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Morgana stared at the bookshelves at the far end of the library. She was sure it had been this spot that Merlin had come from the other day. The secret room that might hold any manner of objects and curiosities. She ran her eyes over the spines of the books, none of them seemed out of place although some of them were free of dust and cobwebs as if they’d been recently placed . . . or reshelved. There were foot prints in the dust too, on the edges of the shelves here and there, someone had used them as a ladder to reach the higher levels. Two someones, in fact, since there were different sets of footprints visible, and one of them was not human. Morgana shuddered a little as she remembered the goblin. She had not thought to ask what had become of it and wasn’t sure she cared to know, so long as it was safely contained. She turned her mind back to the shelf in front of her, brushing her hands over the books, looking carefully for something that might be the trigger. She knew Camelot had many secret areas but most of them Uther had found and either sealed or opened up. He didn’t like hidden things in his kingdom. Perhaps that was why this room held such an immediate appeal for her. She was still running her eyes along the books when she noticed a footprint that stoodout from the rest. It was darker and smudged as if it had been repeatedly made.

She bit her lip as she smiled, believing she’d found the way in. She glanced back along the corridor and listened for sounds from Geoffrey or any other unknown library visitors but she saw and heard no one. Morgana hitched her dress slightly, scandalously – by old Sir Geoffrey’s standards -revealing her ankles and lower calves as she climbed carefully onto the bookshelf beside the suspected trigger. Keeping a hold of the shelf above she gingerly placed her foot down on the smudged footprint. The reaction was instant. A click, a slight scraping sound, the shelf swung promptly causing her handholds to grip more firmly and then it halted. She stepped down, smoothing her dress before she turned around and surveyed the interior.

It was very promising! Shelves lined with odd assortments and books. Morgana could only imagine that everything here had to have some kind of significance to be hidden away in such a secretive spot. What a pleasant adventure this might be, maybe even some magical knowledge was to be found here. The thought had just enough power to tug her lips into a smile before her peripheral vision caught movement. 

She yelped in fright and jumped involuntarily back even as she ascertained there was no threat. “Merlin!” The smile fled.

“Morgana, you’ve come!” He was all relief and joy and wonderment, “how did you find me?”

“I didn’t, I wasn’t looking for you at all.” She folded her arms, still breathing a little hard from the scare and the other emotions at this unlooked-for confrontation.

“Oh,” he was crestfallen, “but then?”

“If you must know,” she said sharply, “I was looking for something to take my mind off of . . . everything. This seemed like an ideal place. What are you doing here?”

Merlin had evidently been concealing himself when she entered, waiting to see who it was. “I was hoping to convince you to come down and speak with me here. It was the only place where I thought we’d be undisturbed.”

It was a good plan, a good place. She looked away from his sincere blue eyes beseeching her understanding. “What more is there to say?”

“A lot more,” he insisted, “and some things I need to ask you as well.”

A lot more? She thought. Surely not, but there was electricity building in her nerves that buzzed with apprehension that argued otherwise. She picked at the items along the nearest shelf idly. “Surely you could have just told me mentally Merlin,” she shot at him. “Why bother face to face when your style is more suited to keeping things in the shadows.” The barb was intentional. She wasn’t sorry for it in the least.

“That’s not fair,” Merlin argued finally showing a bit of a fight, “you’ve no idea of . . .” he trailed unable to articulate his thoughts.

She swiveled, glaring at him. “Then you’d better hurry up and tell me then, hadn’t you?”

He nodded but said nothing as he paced. “Oh,” he said suddenly putting his hand into a pocket for something. “Gaius found this. He wanted to return it.” He held out the item.

“My bracelet!” Morgana took it, turning it over and feeling its welcoming hum. She lifted her eyes scathingly, Merlin surely didn’t think returning her property would make up for all his lies or soften her to whatever he had to say but his gaze had shifted away and he was chewing on his fingers in thought of his next words. It was a cute habit of his, it ought not to weaken her resolve to remain distant from him but she supposed there was no point making this harder for him. Better to get all things said. She slipped the bracelet onto her wrist. “Thankyou.”

“Do you want to sit down,” Merlin prevaricated, pulling an old chest, that had been surprisingly dusted, further forward. “There was no seating in here left intact. This is the best option.”

He’d been preparing, as best he could, she realised which suggested he thought she’d need pacifying. Whatever else he’d kept from her seemed even more daunting now.

“No, thankyou,” Morgana said stiffly.

Merlin took a breath. “I know I’ve lied to you Morgana about my magic. I’m sorry I’ve hurt you but at the time I thought I was doing the right thing. I really did, although now, now I don’t know anymore. I do know there’s so much I should to tell you. I don’t even know where to begin.”

She tried not to let her expression reveal how worrying it was that his magic was not the biggest secret. She locked her knees in place and rested her eyes unflinchingly upon him.

He seemed to have decided on where to begin and he straightened with determination. “You called me Emrys, this morning. How much do you know about that name?”

Quite frankly, she’d almost forgotten the utterance and she was reluctant to answer him. It had all been so clear in that moment, some knowledge of Merlin, of herself. A certainty of purpose but also weight and then it had gone. She gave him a sharp stare. “I thought this was about you telling me the truth.”

“I just . . “ he trailed, he shifted feet, his expression set again. “Emrys is what the druids call me.”

“The druids?” she was surprised. “You have a connection with them?” That might explain why he’d sent her to them all that while ago. But she knew he’d grown up in Ealdor, when had he made a connection with the druids?

“Sort of,” Merlin scratched at his forehead. “They have prophesies about me.”

Morgana knew she was frowning. “Prophecies?” that was foreboding. Prophecies were generally about great or calamitous events or people.

“Yes, about me being a protector of the once and future King and helping him bring magic back and uniting Albion. It’s my destiny.”

She schooled her features. “And who is this once and future king?”

“Arthur.”

She’d guessed as much but she wanted to hear it from Merlin. “Arthur is prophesied to bring back magic?” Her voice was thick with disbelief.

“Yes.” Merlin seemed very certain.

Arthur, magic. Something she’d secretly hoped for and never truly believed could happen. Morgause had told her that future Morgana urged them to keep Arthur an ally, to wait for his placement upon the throne but even still Morgana had only hoped for a truce. She’d thought maybe magic users would be exiled instead of killed, left alone instead of hunted, maybe give a little piece of the kingdom in which they could be safe. If there was a prophecy greater than that Morgana wanted to know.

“Why you?” She asked. “What is it about you that puts you in this prophecy?” She could see the question bothered him and that increased the interest.

“They think,” he looked down at his shoes, “I’m the most powerful warlock ever to be born.”

Morgana kept her mouth from falling open but she stared at him anew. Running her gaze over the man before her, lost for words. There was no point trying to keep her composure, she felt weak and went toward the chest and sat down. She still stared. He was, wasn’t he? The most powerful warlock ever to be born. She could feel it, perhaps always had felt it. “So were you born with magic?” Morgause had taught her about all the different kinds of magic users.

“Yes,” he nodded.

“You had it when you first came here?”

He nodded.

She was surprised. She was outraged. She was horrified. “So you came because some prophecy told you to?”

Merlin shook his head urgently, “no I didn’t know about the prophecy then. I just came to Camelot to get work with Gaius. My mother was beside herself with worry over my magic being discovered in Ealdor and didn’t know where else to turn.”

Anywhere else might have been safer and yet no where was truly safe for those with magic. Impossible likely for a poor, farmer with no connections.

Merlin’s attention was on her, gauging her reactions and waiting for her to be ready. Ready for more, she realised.

“What else?” how her voice or her nerves dared to want more she didn’t know.

Merlin was straightforward. “That’s it for the druids as far as I know but um, I’m also a dragonlord.”

Her hand was going to her forehead absentmindedly rubbing. “A dragonlord,” flat, lifelessly the words were murmured. That was an old, mysterious power she knew little of, “but wasn’t the dragon that attacked Camelot the last. Didn’t Arthur kill him?“

Merlin was shaking his head. “No, Arthur didn’t. I let him think that. Lied to him about it, actually. The great dragon is not dead. I sent him away. I spared him. I couldn’t be responsible for ending the species. Not as a dragonlord.”

“The dragon’s alive?” It was not only astonishing but prompted a lot of other questions.

Merlin didn’t give her a chance to ask any, “his name is Kilgharrah.”

Her eyes went wide, “you know his name?”

“Uh, yeah. He called to me when I first came to Camelot, he was the one who first told me of the prophecy and I used to visit him down beneath the castle for advice. Eventually I . . . “ Merlin took a steadying breath, “set him free.”

“You set him free?” Morgana gasped not sure she could become more shocked. She wrestled with all it meant. “You are a dragonlord and you let him attack Camelot? He killed innocent people!” Morgana was appalled. Who was Merlin? Really? What was he capable of? “Gwen has told me some of what happened. How she almost became a victim herself!”

Merlin had come closer to her and she got the sense he was restraining himself from reaching for her hands in plea as his hands went back to his sides rather forcefully and grabbed at the leg of his pants. “I didn’t know he was going to do that when I set him free, I swear. “I’d made a bargain with him. A vow. I had to let him go. I tried to stop him from attacking but I wasn’t a dragonlord then. My father . . .” Merlin broke off, his voice had broken slightly and tears were filling his eyes. “It’s so much worse than you think Morgana. I’m so much worse than you think.” He turned slightly away and stared at a distant wall composing himself.

Morgana’s anger was evaporating in the face of Merlin’s pain. It was so raw and open and it touched her compassion. She sighed not bothering to fight against it. “I’m listening Merlin, tell me.”

He turned back to her, stoic now but leant back against the wall. “I should start further back with Nimue.”

“Nimue, the high priestess?”

“Not anymore she’s not,” he said softly.

Her heart had begun to pound. “Merlin, what do you mean?” Morgana knew that Nimue had disappeared. Morgause had said she’d disappeared before often for months at a time. No fear had been held for her, someone as powerful as Nimue need fear few.

“I killed her.” Merlin said it simply, letting the words carry the weight.

Morgana let her gaze run over him. She knew he would not lie. She was glad she was still seated because there was no strength left in her legs. “How? Why?”

“She sent the questing beast after Arthur, he was dying. You remember?”

Morgana nodded her head.

“I went to the Isle of the blessed, bargained with Nimue, my life for his. But she tried to take my mother’s life instead. My mother turned up, here. In Camelot. In pain. Sores all over her body. I couldn’t stand it. I’d bargained my life, not my mother's. I intended to confront Nimue and demand she honour the agreement but Gaius had gone to her offering himself instead. I followed, I found Gaius almost dead. Nimue and I fought. I was so angry, so outraged that she’d hurt the people I loved. I . . . I killed her.”

“You killed Nimue?” Morgana could not believe it. The stories of the power of Nimue were the thing of legends. If Merlin truly had killed her then he . . . he really was the most powerful warlock to ever live. Morgana tried to grapple with this incredible concept.

“Yes and I’m not sorry. I’ve never been sorry.”

He stood as if he meant it, eyes hard, chin jutted out but his mouth was grim. For all the terror he was invoking for having committed such an astounding act Morgana sensed there was sorrow over it, if not remorse. “You acted out of protection?” Morgana offered.

“No. Not completely. I haven’t lied to myself about it and I won’t lie to you. I wanted her dead though I didn’t set out to do it.”

Morgana felt no need to break the silence that followed such an admittance. To his credit, Merlin didn’t either. Seeming to at least comprehend that his confession was worthy of a few moments of silence.

After another moment he continued. “She wasn’t the only bargain though,” he was looking past her, steeling himself for the next revelation. It made Morgana’s senses fire.

“As I mentioned,” he said, “I’d made a bargain with the dragon that I would find a way to free him. Later, that time came. With the knights of Mehdir came their blades. It helped me set him free from the chains that bound him.”

Morgana gasped again. The knights of Mehdir. That had happened because of her. Had she given Merlin the chance to free the dragon – a dragon that had gone on to kill so many in Camelot?

Merlin did not halt his story. “And once I did free him those people died and Balinor, my own father he died too. We sought him out, Arthur and I, for help. Balinor was a dragonlord, you see, I’d never known him. My mother never spoke of it but Gaius told me and about him being a dragonlord when the dragon attacked. And I met him. He was a good man. He deserved more. He died protecting me from Cendred’s men. I led Balinor to his death.”

Whatever Morgana felt and thought about Merlin, and right now she wasn’t sure what that was. She could see the genuine grief that poured out of him. “Uther,” she said, “should never have kept a dragon captive.”

“Uther might be responsible for the dragon’s actions but not mine.” Merlin was taking deep breaths.

“There’s something else isn’t there?” Morgana voiced.

Merlin nodded. “When the knights of Mehdir came, something else happened. I was visited by . . . it’s going to sound odd.”

Morgana raised her brows at his statement, everything he’d said so far was astonishing how could something be more odd?

“A future version of myself.”

Morgana covered her mouth.

“I know it’s hard to believe-“

“No, it’s not.” Morgana interrupted. “Morgause met a future version of me that day.”

“Morgause did?” Merlin looked shocked.

Morgana derived a very small amount of pleasure at having knowledge he didn’t.

Merlin rubbed at his head. “He said there was another with him and I thought it was you but I didn’t realise they had spoken with anyone else. She didn’t seek you out, this other Morgana?”

“No. Just my sister. What did he say to you?”

Merlin looked very uncomfortable. “I can’t fault him for what he said, what he stopped me from doing.” Merlin ducked his head. “He told me what I did reflected on Arthur’s destiny. He stopped me doing something, I’d never forgive myself for.”

His eyes had shot to hers full of guilt.

“Don’t say anymore,” she warned suddenly. Some depth of knowledge in her thought nothing good could come of this. “Let’s stick to things that you have done rather than things you might have done.”

“I must say something. I should.”

“No Merlin. I . . . I can not be the bearer of all your confessions.” Morgana was surprised by her own words but she felt certain of them.

He looked reluctant. “There was also what he, the other me didn’t say. He said nothing of the deaths caused by the dragon, nothing about our father’s death, nothing of the tragedies to come. How could he – how could I do that? I had to know. That’s the kind of person I am Morgana. Even though I’ve tried to change since, tried to be mindful of consequences. I seem to keep making the wrong decisions. I should have told you about my magic when you returned.”

“You should have told me when I first worried about my own,” Morgana retorted, “I was so scared. So alone.”

“I know –.”

“Do you?” she cut him off. “Seems to me you had a dragon and druids validating you and Gaius. He knows, doesn’t he?”

“Yes,” he agreed.

“I had no one.”

“I’m sorry.”

She looked away remembering the terror, the loneliness. He could have so easily allayed it but he’d chosen not to, instead he’d sent her to strangers and then forced her to return to save others. “Why didn’t you?” The words came bursting out of her pained.

“I’ve thought about that at length,” Merlin said quietly, his eyes not meeting hers. “I wanted to and I used to tell myself that I didn’t because Gaius had warned me not to. Gaius thought it was dangerous for you to know about your own powers let alone mine but honestly,” he looked straight at her. “It was my own fears that kept me from telling you. I thought perhaps if I told you I had magic you’d be just as frightened of me as you were of yourself. That you wouldn’t see me as a friend anymore. That you’d see me as a monster.”

Morgana felt her lips part a little and her heart squeeze at mention that their relationship, their friendship meant enough for him to be frightened of losing it. She hadn’t been sure until this moment if everything he’d told her had changed her feelings for him but she knew now that they hadn’t. Despite the confusion, the anger, the hurt and the many things she’d yet to process she clearly still cared enough to feel thrilled by such an absurdly low amount of care from him towards her. Friendship. She had dropped her eyes and twisted the bracelet on her wrist. “So, who else knows your secret?”

“Apart from Gaius, the druids and the dragon, there’s my mother and Lancelot. He was the knight who defeated the griffin, well with my help. He also helped rescue Gwen that time you were both abducted.”

“I remember him,” she remembered too that Gwen had been heartbroken over the would be knights departure both times. “I suppose Gwen knows about your magic too then.”

“No,” Merlin seemed surprised that she thought so but she was surprised at his answer.

“What nothing?” Morgana clarified.

“No,” Merlin shook his head.

“What about Arthur?”

“No, if he did we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” he gave her a sad smile, “he’s not ready yet.”

“Yet?” Morgana raised a brow. Did Merlin truly believe Arthur would ever be?

The servant sorcerer didn’t need to answer her unspoken question, his face said it all. It was a hope but not an unshakeable one further proven by Merlin’s failure to address it. “The only person to know in Camelot was Gaius and now, you.”

Morgana swallowed hard. “That’s it?”

He nodded.

“Oh,” she mouthed it because the cords in her throat seemed unable to make sound. Somehow, she’d begun to imagine Merlin had a network of magic users and magic sympathisers throughout the kingdom who all knew of him. But this wasn’t the case. He was almost as alone as she was. “It’s a lot to take in.”

He shifted, squaring his shoulders as if he felt the weight. “Yes.”

“A lot to keep secret,” she admitted.

He shrugged diffidently. “I seem to have become appallingly comfortable at lying to keep them.”

She pursed her lips, he had but she was beginning to understand the burden of it even if she had been on the unpleasant receiving end. “Camelot does not make it easy to speak frankly.”

“No,” he acknowledged. “But I should have told you.”

“It might have been easier for both of us, if you had.” She fell silent contemplating what ifs of the past but Merlin’s mind was evidently on the future.

“Will you tell Morgause?” He asked.

The question caught her off-guard and Morgana found she didn’t have a decisive answer. “I don’t know. I’m not sure. Nimue and Morgause . . . “ she broke off, thinking better of speaking of her sister's complicated feelings and the past. “I’m not sure. I will let you know if I decide to.” Morgana wasn’t sure why she was being so accommodating. Merlin had confessed all manner of shocking behaviours and secrets that were extensive and personally confronting. It would be natural to want to discuss them with her sister and there were things Morgause should probably know about, like Nimue’s death and the prophecy about Arthur and maybe the dragon. But Merlin’s secret wasn’t hers to disclose. “I gather you prefer I didn’t.”

“It could be dangerous. She doesn’t like me.”

“Morgause doesn’t know you,” Morgana defended.

“And I don’t know her.”

Morgana didn’t like being in the middle. Keeping secrets from Morgause particularly the death of Nimue didn’t sit well. She wondered if she told Merlin she was going to tell her sister if he would try to stop her. He probably had the power to. But she noted that he had not once bragged of his power, or threatened her in any way, ever. Instead, it was all a burden to him.

“You could,” Merlin said thoughtfully, “tell her that you met a sorcerer called Emrys and tell her what you’ve learned. No one but the druids no my real identity and even then, it seems to be only some druids.”

Morgana nodded. It was a good compromise. “I’ll keep that in mind. I won’t reveal you Merlin, for now. That’s not a threat. I just don’t want to make promises that I might need to break.”

He silently accepted this and gave no sign of being irritated by her evasion. After a moment he shifted his gaze more firmly towards her. “Do you have any questions about anything?”

Morgana answered immediately, “Probably but not right now.”

Merlin was still standing stiffly, watching her sombrely, nothing about him showing any sign of relief.

“There’s not more is there?” Morgana asked warily.

“No, nothing that I can think of anyway. That’s everything.”

“Good,” Morgana stated plainly but she eyed Merlin curiously, he was almost as tense as when he first began. Why wasn’t he feeling relieved? Sharing all the things he had would have been hard but they were said now. If it were her she’d be feeling relieved not tense.

But Merlin was. His posture was braced, his gaze on hers was downright grim. She could see the power in it. Not just magic but will, a hard determination that forced him to keep himself in place. She’d known telling his secrets was difficult for him but not until this moment had she realised how much or why. There was something helplessly lonely shuttered beneath the steel of his eyes, she saw it, she could not have missed for it was something she understood to her core. Loneliness. It shook her, seeing it in another’s face. She understood so well the longing for acceptance but his was different, it was tinged with resignation. He’d tried to tell her earlier, had admitted as much his reasons for not telling her the day her powers quickened but he hadn’t said that he wasn’t just fearful but certain of rejection. There was no belief that he would be accepted, not really. Not by her or by Arthur.  

She tried to ignore the desire to say something comforting because it was far too soon to let him off the hook. . .  surely. She tried to find the anger she probably should have towards him still but she instead she felt her seers power asserting. She struggled against it, standing up and opting for words of comfort instead. “When you feel alone it’s hard to see options. I know. Opportunities seem limited and it’s difficult even to recognise those who might be friends. It’s hard to trust and easy to make mistakes. To keep thinking that no one can help, that no one cares but you’re not alone Merlin.”

His eyes that had been fixed on became glassy. “Thankyou, I . . . thankyou,” he ducked his head, finally sagging just a little in place.

Still her power would not abate, it writhed and threatened until she let it loose. She took one step towards him. “There will be others,” She spoke in tones rich with prophecy that forced him to lift his head again. “Others will help shape Camelot beyond courage and magic. Loyalty remains, strength you will find, mercy may yet find a way and let truth return and bring justice.”

She stood back, a little afraid of what she’d said and seen. There was no jubilance in finally mastering her gift, only one thought. Where was she in this great destiny of Albion? For all the comfort she might bring Merlin was there none for herself? No place for her in destiny’s plan?

Merlin’s expression was thoughtful but guarded. He didn’t seem to realise that her words had been more than her own. “I’m sorry though,” he responded unaware of the turmoil she felt. “That you’ve been caught up in this. I never wanted you involved.”

His tone was kindly but her eyes pulled furiously away from his. How true he spoke. He had not wanted her involved, still did not. Despite all he’d revealed to her and all she knew of him, Merlin wasn’t truly letting her in. He was still keeping her distant, still choosing to set her apart from him. No wonder she found no destiny in Albion among the visions for herself. Emrys shaped destinies and he could not or would not make space for her in it.

“I need to go, I have duties to attend to.” Morgana managed feebly as she made toward the book shelf exit.

“Morgana?” He queried likely surprised by her abruptness but she had already put one foot upon the lever. Some combination of seer magic and hurt forced her to glance back and coldly respond. “You have your path Merlin of Ealdor, last of the dragnlords. Walk it!” With that her body put its full weight on the lever. The bookshelf turned, returning her to the desolate end of the library.

Back to the cold suffocating walls of Camelot where she had never belonged and never would.  

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Morgana le Faye threw the claypot in frustration and watched without nearly enough satisfaction as it shattered. She glared at the pieces as if what she felt was their fault.

“What is it?” the warlock beside her said in alarm and she saw with equal dissatisfaction that when her glare switched to him, he didn’t flinch.  

“One of us,” she said pointedly, “is not playing our part.”

Merlin frowned ever so slightly. “Oh? What makes you say that?”

“I’m more tethered to this body than ever!” She complained.

“Oh,” he said again mildly, “I don’t see the problem.” He ran his eyes over her suggestively.

It was frustratingly amusing. She crossed her arms refusing the smile that pulled at her lips and hung onto a sliver of anger. “You shouldn’t be taking this so lightly after all we did to change things.” A gold flash in her eyes brought the broken pot together again and she placed it roughly on the makeshift shelf.

He shrugged. “What choice do I have?”

She sighed, he was right. “None.” She sat down in their little hut. “I’m sorry, It’s not that I want you to be left behind. It’s just one moment I feel certain that I’m joining with her and the next I feel no different. Have you still no signs of it yourself?”

“None.”

“It’s your fault then,” she tried to accuse him.

Still unaffected, he shrugged again. “Probably.”

“You don’t rise to the bait anymore Merlin.”

“Nope,” he gave her a goofy grin before levitating a bunch of tied herbs towards the drying rack where they hooked perfectly.

She frowned, she wasn’t sure she liked the easy way he’d learn to manage her moods – she wasn’t sure she’d had the same success with him. She moved uncomfortably as her thoughts drifted back to the problem of their past selves. “Do you think it’s me?” She hadn’t meant for her voice to sound so pathetic.

Merlin halted his sorting of their provisions and came to sit beside her. He took her hand and stared tenderly into her eyes. “There’s no way to know. We were both so stubborn, so determined in our paths,” his eyes fell to her hand and he squeezed it.

“We were,” Morgana admitted and they both had a terrible habit of trying to force or deny destiny. She hoped this time it would not be thwarted.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter Text

Morgana, Lady of Camelot, sped from the library surprised that her legs carried her so well considering how shaky she felt but then she was not above crawling away if it came to it. She risked a glance over her shoulder but there was no sign of Merlin pursuing her. Her plan to engage in some quiet distraction within the mysterious secret room had gone so poorly that it was astounding. Instead of a little breathing room, she’d been given far more to process than Merlin’s mere confessions that he had magic. Her seer’s powers seemed to have suddenly, brutally unlocked several of its secrets as she gave her parting words to Merlin and it tremendously frightened and frustrated her. She understood now that seering magic was something beyond control. It would come and go as it pleased, as it were needed. Unlike her other magic it could not be beckoned or bent to her will nor utilised as she saw fit. Morgause had referred to it as a gift, Morgana could not agree though she wasn’t ready to call it a curse either. She desperately wanted to get somewhere alone to think about it. She set herself fixedly on her chambers but given how her day had already gone she was not surprised to discover the castle corridors seemed filled with people looking for her immediate input. She was, however, supremely irritated.

Sir Leon had set upon her first, narrowly beating a scullery maid who seemed to have some need for Morgana also. “Milady Morgana,” he addressed her urgently, failing to be deterred by the sharp gaze she settled on him nor noticing the word Loyalty, escaping her lips as a return acknowledgement.

The scullery girl had thrown her greeting almost immediately after. “Oh, I’m sorry Sir Leon,” the girl gushed, “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She bobbed several times comically. “You go first, I sure wouldn’t want to interfere with a knight's duties. Does it have something to do with melee? Will you be participating?”

“Uh, yes,” The knight answered simply and awkwardly.

“I wish you luck then, though I’m sure you won’t need it, seeing as you always do well.” The girl simpered.

“Thank you,” Leon’s response was stilted, his eyes shifted briefly to the maid then back to Morgana. His normally dour expression altered to mildly disconcerted and he fumbled anxiously with several cloths he was clutching as he determinedly raised his eyes back to Morgana. “Milady,” he repeated intent on delivering his message. “I’m glad I found you. There has been a bit of an issue with the seating scaffold for the melee-”

“Surely that is your problem,” Morgana interrupted curtly, she was aware that Sir Leon had been made responsible for the outdoor arrangements needed for the melee. Her ire was not brought about by that decision. Leon was a fine choice, responsible, with far more attention to detail than Uther and more patience for those under him. She’d initially been glad – not now. Not when it had caused the knight to be inserting himself so soon into her presence. She wasn’t ready to come face to face with anyone or anything from her visions and Sir Leon had featured in the most recent ones provoked by Merlin. Not Leon’s face exactly, no, that hadn’t been seen. The vision had been full of abstract images, of sword and shield, of moon and sun, of creatures, places and symbols strange. It would give no clue to their relevance had they been seen by another but Morgana understood these images now. Here was loyalty, no mistake. Ready to play his part while many more were still uncertain, in jeopardy, unclear or foggy.

It was strange to be confronted with this understanding but it came as no surprise that destiny was more concerned about representing the soul, the true heart and spirit of its will rather than focusing on superficial details of the individuals willing to walk its path. Morgana might learn to appreciate that view herself IF she had any time to herself to come to terms with her power before being thrust before one of the participants.  

Sir Leon pressed on, oblivious to her discomfort and disregarding her brusqueness, “Yes, milady, it is . . . was.” He forged ahead with his bothersome explanation. “There were a few rotten beams that went undetected and the short of it is there was a collapse. I’m having the whole thing thoroughly inspected of course and parts of it repaired however,” he paused in some effort to prepare her, “two of the banners from the house of Hilderich were damaged during the initial collapse.” He handed the tattered remains over with an apologetic grimace.

Morgana took the cloths thrust towards her and let a breath out through gritted teeth as she gave a quick inspection and decided they were beyond repair. She stifled her exasperation and rising agitation. It was not Sir Leon’s fault she was sure and it would do her no favours to be at odds with him now or in the future. She summoned her courtly manners and spoke politely. “I’ll arrange replacements for the banners, hopefully, we should have them by tomorrow.” That was, she added mentally, if she hurried to the seamstresses now, instead of retreating to her chambers as she dearly wanted to.

Sir Leon nodded his ascent and hurried on his way intent likely on other tasks. His relief was evident and mildly amusing for Morgana who determined that while Leon was always uncomfortable around her, the presence of the scullery maid had more to do with his hasty departure. Morgana wondered briefly if it was personal or merely the added pressure of a second female giving him notice.

The maid in question was gazing admiringly after the knight long enough for Morgana to feel her irritation return before the girl suddenly snapped to attention.

“Milady Morgana,” the young girl curtsied badly a few times, “I was sent to fetch you to the kitchens,” the girl bit her lip in thought as if struck by some thought. “I’m sure that Melisande will think I’ve been idling about I’ve taken so long but I swear I’ve been all over inquiring, even down in the lower town and the markets and among the tents that the menfolk are pitching. Have you seen them? The tents, that is,” she giggled, “there are ever so many. It will be a right thrill to see so many knights battling it out in the melee, though I’m sure Prince Arthur will win.” The latter was said dutifully.

“I’m sure,” Morgana said without enthusiasm. There was no guarantee of that, many of the knights were just as skilled and a melee could be brutal and often unpredictable – luck good or bad could often be a decider on who won such a thing. She held no particular concern one way or the other for Arthur’s wellbeing, after all the tournament was not lethal but Arthur competing was, in her opinion, a bad idea.

If Arthur happened to lose the melee, it undermined his position as a leader, as a warrior and in a way that no other knight or noble in the kingdom would suffer from such a loss. Uther also would be unbearable in his disdain and criticism.

There were times when Arthur’s arrogance made Morgana want to see him humbled but not at Uther’s hands - never at Uther’s hands. In this, she felt a great deal of certainty. “What were you sent to find me for?” Morgana addressed the maid firmly, she had no time for some young girl's fanciful digressions.

“Oh, forgive me milady, I do run on something terrible sometimes. Melisande says so, at least a couple of times a day, not sure that I deserve it so often but anyway she wanted me to fetch you, she says there’s a problem with the boar meat.”

Morgana frowned darkly. Boar meat. One of the main components of the first feast. “Did she say what the problem was?”

“No.” The answer from the chattering servant was surprisingly if blessedly short.

“Very well,” Morgana answered thinking quickly, “I’ll be there as soon as I attend to another matter.” Whatever the kitchen's problem it was bound to be less urgent than having the seamstress begin new banners that would also need to be embroidered for the house of Hilderich.

The scullery girl was just bobbing a farewell when Gwen appeared.

Morgana tensed and felt her mouth involuntarily draw into a little line. The one person she had hoped most to evade when leaving the library was Merlin. Was still Merlin, lest he accost her with more revelations but if she’d had time to consider a second it would be Gwen.

“Lady Morgana,” Gwen exclaimed, making Morgana truly hate the sound of her own name.

Gwen looked out of breath and Morgana hadn’t quite mustered enough calm to respond but Gwen’s attention had diverted to the suddenly nervous scullery girl. “Patrice,” Gwen’s tone turned scolding. “Melisande is beside herself, she sent you to fetch Lady Morgana hours ago.”

The scullery girl put her hands up. “I’ve been looking this whole time, I swear. I couldn’t find her, the lady Morgana that is.” The girl corrected herself. “I went to her chambers, the solarium, the throne room . . .” the girl prattled on begging Gwen to believe her and intercede for her to Melisande, one of the head cooks.

Morgana tried to disguise the grimness that heavily dragged at her heart as she stared at Gwen. The seer had hoped to have some time to sort her thoughts before she encountered her maid at all. Even a few moments, might have been nice, she thought aggrievedly toward the seer power that now allowed her insight. Instead, she found herself thrust into this meeting fully aware that Gwen had lied to her. Morgana knew she would be able to do nothing about it now, nothing more than pretend she didn’t know that Gwen had deceived them all. Perhaps that is how she would have handled it if she’d had time to think, perhaps not.

The sight of Gwen had been just enough to recall the visions and warning she’d spoken to Gwen weeks ago. The repression of seer power was no more. Morgana could ascribe meaning to the words, bandits and blacksmiths and she would eventually want more – need more - answers from Gwen about it. Morgana would certainly get those answers one way or another but not right now. The sorceress knew she was in no state to engage with Gwen on any level. Gwen might have perfectly reasonable answers for what she had done but Morgana did not believe she was prepared to have any more shocking discoveries about those whom she had considered friends if Gwen didn’t. “Is that what you needed me for Gwen? The kitchens?” Morgana queried neutrally.

“Ah, yes,” Gwen answered, “there is some problem with the boar.”

“I don’t suppose they said what the problem was?” Morgana pursed her lips guessing correctly.

Gwen shook her head, “When I came in Melisande thought you’d be with me, she started a rather frantic rant about,” Gwen’s eyes shot to the scullery maid, “dereliction of duty so I came to find you.”

“Oh dear,” Patrice wailed and looked legitimately stricken.

Morgana felt a stab of pity for the girl. She couldn’t possibly have found Morgana hidden in a secret room. Even if, as Morgana suspected, the girl had been enjoying a tour of the castles at a leisurely pace. Morgana’s world was in disarray due to other’s actions to spark added empathy for the servant. “I was in the library,” Morgana declared, “deep in the archives. Gwen will go with you and assure the cook that I was quite unfindable.” Morgana shifted her gaze to Gwen, “Tell Melisande I’ll make her my next priority once I’ve dealt with another matter.”

Gwen’s eyes dropped to the torn banners Morgana still held and her mouth fell open. “Did something happen to the banners? I could take them to be repaired if you’d like.”

“No,” Morgana shook her head, “I will need to see what must be put off in the way of the seamstresses' work and negotiate terms.”  

“Are you sure?” Gwen dithered, “I’m sure I could instruct them as to the urgency and you could follow up with the other details later today.”

Morgana’s patience was at her limit and her anger rose at the reminder that Gwen always seemed to be questioning her requests lately. “Quite sure,” the tone was unmistakably cold and Morgana felt a moment of regret when she saw Gwen react. She debated about apologising and blaming it on the frustrations of the melee but it would be a lie and she’d had her fill of secrets and lies. So she clamped her mouth shut.

Gwen stood a moment uncertainly but Morgana stepped determinedly toward the north wing. It might have been more efficient to swap errands with Gwen but Morgana had never liked to be questioned over her decisions and dealing with the more level-headed seamstresses was likely to be a more calming interaction than solving any issues unruly kitchen staff might have. Calm was what she required, just a small reprieve in this chaotic day before more disaster was thrown her way. . . and she sincerely hoped that wasn’t going to be the case. She let out a long breath to expel the frustration as she took another turn and crossed through the great hall. She looked ahead as she ventured into the Dragon corridor and repressed the urge to let loose her power and fling the approaching individual backward.

“Morgana,” Arthur marched over to her, “have you seen my useless servant?”

Morgana pressed her lips together and glared, she should have thrown him . . . she still could. “Your useless servant?” she gritted.

“Yes, utterly,” Arthur said without preamble.

It was true she was upset with Merlin or at least disturbed with him and by him and by all that he had done but Arthur’s continued disrespect of Merlin, magic and destiny was far more enraging. “One day Arthur Pendragon you may regret those words.” She warned.

“What?” Arthur looked at her askew.

“What sort of a king will you be Arthur?” Her tone was imperious, “If you don’t even know where your servant is, let alone who he is.”  Morgana inwardly winced as the words left her mouth and barely halted her hand flying to cover it. It was an imprudent thing to say, she’d known Merlin’s secret for less than 24 hours and she was already slipping. She chided herself sternly, letting her anger dictate her words without thought or caution was not something she could afford. It was a flaw she had long had but needed to overcome and promptly. Fortunately, Arthur did not seem to wonder or worry over her words.

 “He is an idiot that’s what he is,” Arthur asserted his brows coming together in a scowl. “He was supposed to be assisting in the final training round before the melee, he knew it was important but he never showed and when I went looking for him Gaius said he’d sent him out for herbs. Herbs! And even though I was inclined to believe Gaius I had my misgivings what with the awkward way he announced it. Then,” Arthur’s voice had raised to emphasise the outrage, “one of the other servants mentioned they saw Merlin earlier wandering about on another floor of the castle.”

“Did they?” Morgana responded calmly, wondering who the snitch was that would tell on a fellow servant. She was going to point out to Arthur that perhaps the other servant was mistaken; she was going to cover for Merlin, lie. Lie and fool and keep Arthur blind to the truth, as blind as she had been to Merlin . . . and perhaps Gwen. Only, it reminded her that she had made a promise, a conscious choice on her return to Camelot to be more aware of things, of people and of motivations and still she’d missed things. She’d not seen the signs of Merlin’s abilities nor fully acknowledged Gwen’s strained interactions. Suddenly Morgana looked at Arthur anew, what had she missed about him? He was frowning at her, a nervous energy had been in his steps, and outrage was verbally pouring out of him. “You’re worried,” she observed.
 
“About Merlin?” Arthur scoffed and gave a toss of his blond head.

“No,” Morgana said, finding it curious that Arthur had assumed that was what she meant. “Worried about the tournament.”

“Please,” Arthur shrugged with feigned indifference, “it’s hardly my first.”

“No, nor likely your last.” Morgana knew it was not jitters about the fight itself. “Uther should not expect you to participate.”

Arthur held her gaze a moment. It was all she needed to say. Arthur knew what she was getting at.

“It’s required and I want to participate,” Arthur argued.

Yes, some part of him did, Morgana acknowledged to herself. Some part of him liked the thrill, the test of himself against others but another more rational part understood that the risk he was taking was the trust of Camelot. That part needed quieting, disregarding, distracting and she guessed looking for Merlin was somehow some sort of coping skill. A kindness that hadn’t been provoked in her often lately returned to her heart. “Come to think of it, I believe I did see Merlin just now heading towards Gaius. I’m sure he’ll return to you soon.” She felt it very likely that Merlin would indeed return to Arthur’s side any moment now that his confession to her was hopefully complete.

Arthur seemed surprisingly mollified by her assurance and then he did something even more unexpected. “Are you alright Morgana?” He asked suddenly.

She was taken aback by the concern and frankly stunned that Arthur had noticed her demeanour was anything other than normal. She nodded. “Just irked by a few mishaps with the melee,” she held up the torn banners as proof and summoned a disarming smile.

“Hmm,” Arthur let out a sound that said he’d let it go but the look he ran over her was clearly sceptical.

He was not as easily dissuaded as Uther by her smiles or deflections but neither was he as scrutinising in his disbelief. Visions and talk of destiny aside maybe there was more difference between Arthur and Uther than she had given credit to. Arthur’s concern for her seemed genuine, not self-motivated to manipulate her for information or control. He had nothing to gain by the inquiry and when Arthur openly displayed his disbelief he didn’t look at her as if she were plotting against him, simply accepted that she was not willing to share her emotions or reasons for them and respected that! “Thank you for asking,” she added, “I appreciate it.” There was genuine warmth in her statement.

Arthur nodded, she had an impending sense that he was going to ruin the moment with some snarky comment if she stood there long enough. Neither of them was particularly great with displays of affirmation or affection and there was always the threat that Merlin would turn up now and make the whole situation even worse. “Well,” Morgana offered quickly, “good luck finding Merlin.”

“He’ll be lucky to be found in one piece after I find him,” Arthur muttered stomping down the hall.

Morgana grimaced after him mildly though she felt no concern for the warlock who commanded dragons and whose power was the thing of prophecy. She feared only that the relationship between future King and warlock was uneven, mismatched with secrets and statuses and an interplay that perhaps she’d seen too little of to be judge. She would certainly be watching with more interest now.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Morgana sighed, shrugging off the furs she was wearing over her nightgown and slipped into bed.

Finally, the tasks of the day were done, new banners were commissioned, the diseased boar in the kitchen removed and a hunting party dispatched to look for a replacement. Morgana had even engaged with Gwen in mild and polite interactions before dismissing her for the night. She still did not feel ready to confront Gwen over the lies she knew the maid had told and her main concern was Gwen’s motivation for maintaining the lie. Was Gwen trying to keep herself safe or was it something more nefarious? Morgana had begun wondering how she could bring up the matter without revealing that seer magic was behind it. The lady of Camelot fussed with the bedclothes around her and concluded that the wisest thing to do was to watch Gwen’s words and actions more carefully.

The danger of Gwen’s deception may be nothing after all. . . even if the bandits did seem to be increasing in number. Uther’s interest and paranoia about the bandits came back to the sorceress and she frowned. She wondered if the king's concern had any connection with her vision of Gwen.

She swivelled her healing bracelet and looked at it pensively. Should she remove it tonight? Might her dreams give her more insight into what was going on? Or had her seer ability completely shifted into a more conscious use? She fidgeted unsure if she should take the risk, it had been a tiring day but could she, should she, ignore an opportunity for her seer ability to manifest something more? She removed the bracelet and place it upon her stand. As horrifying as her dreams often were she couldn’t forget that among them had been the one featuring Morgause. She could not understand the dream only that it was meant for Morgause and it was Morgause who must fathom the meaning and the time on that was ticking! It had importance, great importance.

The lady of Camelot shifted herself restlessly. How was sleep expected to come with so many thoughts to consider? It certainly wasn’t likely to come at all if she did not put out the light. Morgana’s eyes fell on the lit candle well beyond her reach or breath that sat on her dresser. She uttered a spell that reduced and finally extinguished the flame gently as if the slightest of wind had danced over the amber hue and taken off with it into the cool night. Morgana smiled satisfactorily. She enjoyed her magic, the use of it both simplified some tasks and defied Uther in his own kingdom. The smile wavered as thoughts of magic inevitably led to her thinking about Merlin and all he had revealed. It was not the first moment she’d had her thoughts wandering that way today but it was the first she’d had to herself to deeply consider any of it. Events of the past played through her mind with new understanding when suddenly she was struck with the remembrance of the witchfinder, the alleged sorcerer who went after his own kin and deceived kingdoms for money.

She shuddered at the memory of his cold, scrutinising gaze. From the moment of Aredian’s arrival she’d been sure the witchfinder knew she had magic, she’d been terrified of what might happen. She remembered that accusation of sorcery had first fallen on Gaius but only after Aredian had accused Merlin. That was a confusing factor now considering Aredian had been right. She began to review the sequence of events, several things were suspicious to her and when she thought of Aredian’s death and how just prior he had coughed up a toad she knew she had to know. She had to ask Merlin about his version of events and his thoughts on the man. She had thrown back the covers, relit the candle with hardly a thought and was half shivering into her furs again when she realised she need not go to Merlin to ask him. She could simply remain in her nice, warm, comfortable bed and inquire from here using magical communication. “Merlin,” she called as she returned to bed. She sat and arranged the covers around her as she waited and when there was no response she called again. Furrowing her brow and focusing a little louder.

“Morgana?” Merlin’s tone came foggily into her head. “What? Where - where are you?”

She’d woken him she realised. She had not at all heeded the lateness of the hour. “I’m in my chambers, speaking to you via magic. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to wake you. I didn’t realise how late it was.”

“Oh,” he replied. “No, uh, I was awa . . .asleep. What is it?”

She didn’t point out that he’d narrowly avoided lying to her again. It was after all a common lie to state that you had not been woken and if he was second-guessing those simple lies, she hoped that meant the big ones would be avoided in future. “I had a question about something,” she began earnestly. “About the witchfinder.”

“Ah,” Merlin communicated alert and sombre. “What did you want to know?”

Morgana clutched a little anxiously at her bedclothes. “A couple of things. Mainly, all those bracelets we found in his room and the toad, was that your doing or was Aredian really a sorcerer?”

“My doing,” Merlin didn’t hesitate with his response, “I know considering how it ended I went too far but only because it was the only way to save Gaius. Aredian really did plant an amulet like the rest we found in Gaius’s chamber to incriminate Gaius or actually, I think he thought to catch me.”

Morgana had no opportunity to react for Merlin was continuing in one long breath.

“And Gaius,” the warlock continued, “thought it truly was mine so just said it was his to protect me. Conjuring all those amulets was the only way I could think to expose him and then I added the toad. I didn’t mean him to grab you and yes the whole thing with Aredian even being here was my fault for being so careless and creating a dragon out of smoke and being seen by the villager.” Merlin’s mindspeech finished with what sounded like a crack.

Morgana listened with surprise. “I wasn’t,” she began gently, “I wasn’t thinking about any of that. Merlin.” She’d had no idea that Merlin was behind the smoke dragon or even thought about who was. “I wasn’t judging or blaming you for it. Not at all. I was just putting the pieces together. I’m sure you know I was terrified of Aredian at the time and then when it turned out he was a sorcerer too I couldn’t understand why he would turn on his own that way. I even began to wonder if Aredian was incriminating non-magic users randomly to somehow protect other real sorcerers but I never could reconcile that behaviour with the way I felt in his presence. He did know somehow didn’t he Merlin, about me?”

“Yes. He did,” Merlin’s tone was quiet.

“And you?” she asked carefully. “He guessed about you?”

“Yes, me too,” Merlin admitted. “I didn’t mean to kill him though. I just wanted him to let you go and drop the knife, so I heated up the handle, I didn’t expect him to step backward out the window. Not that I’m sorry for his death. It just wasn’t my intention.”

“What do you mean you heated the knife?” Morgana protested astonished. “I . . . “ she hesitated and then plunged on. “I thought I did that.”

“What?” Merlin echoed her amazement, “Why would you think that?”

“You remember how lacking in control I was Merlin,” Morgana replied, “I set my own room on fire. I figured I was so terrified of him by that point that my magic just lashed out.”

“I’m so sorry!” Merlin burst out. “If I’d known you thought that-“

“What? You’d have taken that victory from me?” Morgana laughed amused. “No, no. I wasn’t exactly feeling bad about it Merlin. In fact, I think it gave me a dose of confidence sorely needed then, a sense I could have some power, some protection for myself, even if it was in a rather twisted way.” She halted suddenly worrying that he wouldn’t understand. “You don’t think less of me for that do you, Merlin?” She asked. “Truthful answer,” she reminded him.

“No,” he said softly, “I understand completely.” He was quiet a moment, “and I am glad if I gave you any solace during that time. Even if it was unintentional. I know I failed you a lot Morgana, so I’m glad if there is at least something I did right.”

“You also saved me,” she said acknowledging the truth, “I’m thankful for that too.”

Merlin was silent. She could almost imagine the self-effacing look, the quick dart of his eyes in another direction and his search for another subject.

“Anyway, thanks for answering me about the witchfinder,” Morgana added to save him from continuing embarrassment, “I may have questions about other events in the next few days but I’ll try to ask them in more agreeable hours. I’ll let you get some sleep. “Good night Merlin.”

“Good night Morgana.”

She bit her lip slightly at the smile that attempted to spread across her face. Merlin bidding her goodnight when she was already tucked within the covers of her bed flooded her with both a wicked thrill and a feeling of security. Uther would be scandalised by such familiarity between his ward and a servant let alone the use of sorcery. Yet she revelled more in the comfort it brought her to know that Merlin was but a thought away. She lay back against her pillows and contemplated whether her previous feelings for Merlin had changed with the knowledge of who he really was. It did explain the odd sense of authority he exuded. She wondered whether or not some of her attraction had merely been her magic unconsciously acknowledging another user. She had felt bonds with both Morgause and Mordred . . . but they were different. She did not think she had noticed that feeling with the other druids she’d met. She could feel her eyes getting heavy. There was still a lot to think over and Merlin was still keeping her out of destiny but in this moment she didn’t need to acknowledge that. She just wanted to drift into a restful slumber, secure in her bed knowing that she was not the only magic user in Camelot who carried the burdensome secret.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Morgana stretched out happily as the sunshine from a small part in the curtain dimly lit the room. She rose and pulled the curtain all the way back and let her gaze drift past the walls of Camelot to the land beyond. She had a distant sense that Camelot was not feeling as bright as she was, that it was in some small way dimmed but in some negligible manner. She ignored it, humming softly as she pulled at a stray flower petal in a vase of flowers that sat proudly on their own shelf. She had slept as if her bracelet was still on. Peacefully revelling in mundane dreams that she could barely recall but they must have been pleasant. She turned toward the wardrobe, knowing she ought to consider her clothes for the next few days. Visitors for the melee would arrive prior and she would need to be properly attired. What a bore such things soon became but she had learnt to tolerate her role in them. She pulled open the wardrobe to inspect her gowns but suddenly heard a bird singing close by. She turned, amazed to see it, sitting on her sill. Morgana approached it curiously and saw that it carried a scroll. Slowly she opened the window and the bird gently alighted her finger. Morgana removed the parchment, suspecting that such a thing could only have occurred via magic, likely Morgause and as she hurried her eyes over the note was proven right. Morgause expressed briefly her concerns about the increasing number of travellers in the area, those coming for the melee and informed Morgana of her decision to remove herself from Camelot for the time being because of the risks. Morgana was ashamed not to have thought to insist on this herself earlier but with the goblin and all her duties there had been no chance to communicate and there was now no way to reply. Morgause had already gone and would let Morgana know when she returned. Morgana did not fear that her sister would abandon her. In some ways though she was relieved for it meant she could delay talking of Nimue and possibly Merlin. She had still not concluded the best way to broach any of that discussion. However, she was concerned that she was unable to discuss with Morgause her mastering of the seer ability or to revisit discussion about the vision that she’d had of the fire.

Suddenly Morgana heard footsteps, feminine and sure. Gwen was knocking and the door handle was already moving. Morgana glanced down at the note in her hand, she crumpled it but it would not be enough. She could not hide such a thing as Gwen assisted her in dressing nor risk its discovery. Hurriedly Morgana went to the hearth and threw it in whispering, “forbearnan.” In her haste Morgana did not notice the fireplace had enough fuel to catch or perhaps the desperation of her words ignited everything a little too firecly either way she yelped in fright and pain as the the flames leapt and caught at her right sleeve.

 
At almost the same moment, she heard Gwen distantly cry out before appearing before Morgana’s arm, dousing it in water from the vase, that Gwen had apparently had the quick thinking to use.  

Morgana breathed hard, pulling at what was left of her burnt and dripping sleeve and pushing it back from her lower arm revealing a nasty burn.

“You’re burnt!” Gwen stated the obvious.

Morgana just nodded weakly, cradling her arm. She was slowly collecting herself. At the moment the skin on her lower arm felt slightly cooled by the water but she could already feel it edging toward a sensation of burning again. “I better go to Gaius,” Morgana said rationally though her tone still trembled. “Gwen, will you help me with my cloak?”

“Of course,” Gwen rushed to retrieve the article but Morgana was focused on the injury. Turning from Gwen slightly, her eyes glowed momentarily as she utilised a spell for suppressing pain. She would have liked to make an attempt at healing but Gwen had already seen the injury and she couldn’t risk a dramatic change in its appearance. Even so, Morgana was not certain how well she could heal a burn as she’d had little instruction. Morgause was not proficient in healing spells of any kind and openly confessed it had never been her strong point. Morgause had pointed out that Morgana’s healing bracelet would do the job of most injuries, albeit over a longer period. Unfortunately, Morgana wasn’t wearing the bracelet right now and she feared it would look odd to Gwen if she wasted time putting it on before going to Gaius for treatment.  Since the pain was ebbing she could stand to wait for its benefit and besides she or Gaius might be better able to speed things along in any case.

Gwen brought the cloak and draped it over Morgana still in her nightgown. Morgana met her eyes gratefully. “Thank you, Gwen, I don’t know what I should have done if you hadn’t thought so quickly.” Morgana meant it. She might have been engulfed by the time she had the presence of mind to use a spell to put out the flames.

“I’m just glad it wasn’t worse,” Gwen said, “what were you doing anyway?”

Gwen’s tone was not chiding merely curious and Morgana had half expected it. It was unusual for her to be meddling with the hearth and it was not overly cold. “I was just poking idly at the coals in thought, I suppose.” Morgana shrugged and painted an air of carelessness. “I didn’t expect it to reignite but I suppose there was enough heat left from last night.”

“Goodness,” Gwen exclaimed, shaking her head in horror. “How terrible. Come, we’ll get another vase of water in the corridor, it should be deep enough to put your arm into while we get to Gaius.”

Morgana nodded compliantly. The pain was being suppressed by her magic but she felt the adrenaline wearing off as such her body had started to feel drained and the sight of her skin reddening and swelling didn’t help the shaky feeling in her legs or the nausea.

Gwen led the way as the two of them crossed the threshold heading for the vase of flowers in the corridor. It was fortunate that the upcoming melee had brought about more use of them. They often stood empty between guests.

Morgana’s slender wrist fit into the vessel snugly and the water covered the burn. She shifted her eyes from it to Gwen as they walked. Now was not a great time to get into a discussion about why Gwen had lied and kept things from her but Morgana couldn’t help but wonder at the actions of her maid. Here she was being so attentive, her concern seemed genuine enough and yet was it? Was this all an act? A pretence used to be close to the citadel and its potential secrets. Morgana didn’t want to believe it could be but she couldn’t ignore what she knew about Elyan. She found herself broaching the subject unable to stop herself. At the very least conversation would distract her from the increasing discolouration on her lower arm. “You must have dealt with a few burns for your father over the years Gwen, what with him being a blacksmith,” Morgana started.

“Hmm? No, not really.” Gwen answered calmly, most of her focus on leading Morgana towards healing. “He did burn himself from time to time from the odd flyaway scale – they can be quite the burn when they get into clothing and once or twice more seriously due to holes in gloves or fatigue but he generally looked after them himself. He didn’t like to worry me.” Gwen’s voice dipped, sadly and even though no tears fell from her eyes Morgana could tell she struggled.

It nearly stopped Morgana from saying more but the sorceress was aware that if an opponent showed vulnerability it was best to strike at once. That was a time when someone might unwittingly confess. So Morgana ploughed on hoping Gwen might give something up. “Elyan seems to take after him,” Morgana pointed out.

“Elyan?” Gwen faltered, eyes darting suspiciously from Morgana to the surrounding corridors but she promptly regained her composure. “How so?” the words were calculatingly careless.

“I mean being a blacksmith and not wanting to worry you much. I haven’t heard you speak of him much since that first week I returned. You said his forge was going well?”

Morgana watched carefully as Gwen’s expression attempted to hide her nervousness.

“Er yes,” Gwen mumbled. “I think so. I don’t hear from him often. Is the water cool enough in the vase, ought we to fetch another?” Gwen queried unexpectedly.

“The vase is fine. Do you ever think to go visit your brother?”

“No,” Gwen’s response was instant, sharp and Morgana was sure she detected some alarm. Gwen tossed her head slightly and shrugged. “I mean, my work and my place is here.”

Gwen’s answers were all very reasonable and even her uneasy demeanour could be due to family disharmony or estrangement but Morgana wasn’t finished probing. “I think we may have some knights arriving for the melee from that part of Camelot. I would be happy to encourage them towards his forge if you’d like.”

There was a slight silence and perhaps a small flare of Gwen’s nose that hinted at panic or anger but if so she soon rallied well enough to pleasantly dismiss the idea. “Thank you for the offer but you know how proud men can be. Elyan wouldn’t like it if I used my influence to help him.”

Morgana inwardly winced. It was not an encouraging answer but neither was it truly enough to convince Morgana that Gwen was definitely hiding the true nature of her brother’s activities or enough to determine if Gwen was involved in them.

Morgana had no more time to pursue questioning for they finally came to Gaius’s door. There would be time for more inquiries with Gwen later after Morgana’s burn was seen to. Gwen was making to knock when suddenly it occurred to Morgana that Merlin might also be present. She hadn’t prepared herself for their next encounter at all. It was one thing to chat almost companionably in their heads but face to face always had an element of . . . something, she couldn’t quite determine. “Wait, Gwen!” Morgana halted her urgently.

Gwen’s head snapped up in surprise.

Morgana was at a loss to explain her hesitation but it did strike her that it would be better to see Gaius and Merlin alone in regards to the burn and healing. If Merlin was there, perhaps he had some healing spells he could use or teach her. No magic would be possible with Gwen around. Morgana searched for an excuse to send Gwen away when she alighted upon the perfect one. “Oh Gwen, I never even thought to send word to Uther that I might be delayed for breakfast. Would you be an angel and inform him that I . . .” she trailed. She could hide the burn easily enough from Uther beneath long sleeves but it would mean asking Gwen and Gaius not to say anything about her injury. She decided against putting them in that position. “Actually, perhaps find someone else to deliver it, Gwen. I don’t want to worry Uther unnecessarily and he’ll surely demand details if you go in person. He will be more patient and less irritable if it's merely a messenger.”

“I’ll see to it,” Gwen said departing only as she assured herself that Morgana had entered the physician's chambers.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“Morgana,” the old physician greeted. She saw him take in her state of dress, the tattered sleeve and probably the vase her arm was still dunked in and his brows raised in surprise at the same time he rose from his chair in concern. “What has happened?”

Morgana swept her eyes across the room, Merlin was nowhere to be seen and the disappointment was stinging enough not to be confused with any other emotion but her reasoning for such disappointment was up for debate. Was it because she still - irrationally, against all wisdom, propriety and even class (both magical and societal) - harboured an infatuation for him or was it due to losing out on magical healing knowledge? Some mix of the two was just as likely, she concluded. She lifted her arm out of the water toward the physician as she answered. “I’m afraid I was a bit foolish and burnt myself.”

“My goodness child,” he took the vase from her, placed it on his bench and eyed her skin. “That is quite severe, how did it come about?”

Despite the confidence that lay between herself and Gaius about her magic and the likelihood that Merlin had informed him of everything he’d divulged yesterday Morgana felt circumspect about offering up anything regarding Morgause. She knew Gaius disapproved of her sister. She kept her answer short. “I was messing about in the fireplace when it suddenly caught on and lit up my sleeve.”

Gaius raised a brow. “The fire just erupted by itself?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again as she shook her head.

“I thought not, this was caused by something quite intense.” He looked at her knowingly. “I take it you’ve dulled the pain somewhat also using your – uh, talents?”

“Yes.”

“Fine,” It wasn’t exactly approval from the physician but it was understanding. “Well,” the old healer continued letting her arm go, “it’s not on a joint, so that’s a good thing. You won’t have to worry about stretching the skin each day to ensure it heals. I have some burn salve for it that should help with the healing but it’s going to take a couple of weeks and you might have a scar.”

“You don’t have something else?” She asked, lifting her brows meaningfully. “What I mean is –.”

“I can guess your meaning,” Gaius cut in. “And no I do not. In case you’ve forgotten this is Camelot where such things are forbidden and it seems to me you would do well to remember that too, especially when this,” he gestured towards her burn, “is the result.”

Morgana clenched her jaw, riled by Gaius’s implication that she was unable to control her powers. “It wasn’t my fault, Gwen . . .” she trailed pitifully as she realised she would have to admit the truth about Morgause, “Gwen startled me.” She finished firmly. That was the truth of it. She’d been rushed. It wasn’t her lack of control. . . not really.

“So you could have been caught using magic as well?” Gaius rebuked.

“I won’t apologise for my magic,” Morgana fumed.

“And will you apologise when it gets yourself or Merlin killed?”

She snapped her gaze to his in confusion. What did Merlin have to do with this?

He looked pointedly at her a long moment, then sighed. “I’m sorry, I should not have said that. I’m just concerned for you Morgana.”

“And for Merlin,” Morgana responded softening. That was the real crux of Gaius’ outburst, she was sure. He was aware that she knew Merlin’s secret and he thought her a danger.

“Yes, and for Merlin,” he confirmed, passing the salve to her.

She shook her head. “I would never put him in danger, Gaius.”

The physician was deliberate in his response. “Not on purpose.”

Morgana was taken aback. She could understand Gaius being concerned for Merlin and having fears about other people being let in on the secret but his tone was almost hostile. She tried to determine why. “You think I’m reckless because of what I did to Uther?”

“In part,” he agreed. “But I think you are eager for change Morgana. And I can understand that. I can. But change takes time. It can’t be rushed.”

“It can’t be held back either Gaius,” she warned, a touch of the seer leaking in her tone.

He looked up apparently struck by her words, his expression looking defeated.

“You would think at my age I would have learnt to accept that.” He sat down on a stool wearily. “You better slather that salve on Morgana. You may not feel the pain but the damage is there.”

She looked down and realised she’d just been holding the pot. She delicately applied it to her skin but with a liberal amount. She was thinking about what Gaius had said. She was eager for change, she found it difficult to wait as she’d been doing and she knew if the status quo were to change she would not be able to sit idly by. Sometimes the risks were worth the consequences.

“I suppose I’m a little on edge,” Gaius confessed, he offered a small smile she took for a truce, “with Merlin and Arthur on one of their outings.”

“Outings?” Morgana asked.

“Something about visiting the nearby villages,” Gaius responded. “I believe it is Arthur ’s idea to get to know his people.”

“I see,” Morgana said thoughtfully, “Arthur’s idea?” She said doubtfully. “Merlin is a good influence.”

“I don’t know about that but I think Arthur came to that idea on his own,” Gaius corrected her.

Morgana marvelled at the rebuke. Gaius was very sure. When was it Arthur had become concerned for the outer villagers of Camelot? She remembered his trip to Ealdor had required a lot of chiding into seeing things from the perspective of a commoner and while they weren’t his people it did show that he had given little thought to village life. Had he changed so much in the year apart? She should ask him about it when he returned.

“But I do worry when they go off together,” Gaius sighed. “It usually ends up in some sort of mess.” Seeing her alarm he added, “Nothing too serious most of the time. I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

This time he didn’t look sure.

Morgana was surprised by his anxiety, surely their safety was guaranteed. Merlin had stated he was the most powerful sorcerer to walk the earth and Arthur was destined to become king and reunite Albion. . . an unfortunate vision descended upon her of knives and fists in a humble tavern.

She nodded numbly as Gaius, unaware, began further giving instructions for keeping the burn clean and covered with salve and loose bandages but Morgana had ceased to listen.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Merlin checked the unconscious Gwaine, slung over Arthur’s horse outside the tavern and made a show of inspecting the makeshift bandage tied around the wounded man’s leg. Arthur was busy supervising the placement of one of the bandits in stocks and everyone else seemed intent on the activities of taunting or gathering rotten food. Merlin noted the midden pile was meagre compared to those found in Camelot’s citadel but far more of it had decomposed with the accompanying slime. Merlin grinned, after all, it wasn’t him this time in the stocks and he didn’t feel at all sorry for the man who had tried to extort and murder. Indeed, the bandit might succeed in the latter. Merlin’s attention quickly returned to the ailing Gwaine. He’d been waiting for everyone to be distracted and now was the perfect opportunity to use a small healing spell.

His hand stretched out over the bandage he’d been pretending to adjust. “Belīfe licsar áwendedu” He kept his gaze averted from the crowd lest the glow of his eyes give him away. Gwaine took a slightly deeper breath but his pallor didn’t improve. Merlin didn’t expect it to, the spell was used for keeping someone in their current state, stable enough to get to a proper healer. Or at least one more capable than he was.

“How is he doing?” Arthur said full of concern but startling Merlin with his sudden proximity.

“Well enough for now,” Merlin responded, “but we ought to hurry. Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer me to take him?” Merlin was as keen to get Arthur to the safety of Camelot as he was the unfortunate stranger to help and he would rather Arthur have full mobility if they met more bandits on the road back.

 
“Don’t be absurd Merlin,” Arthur dismissed, “the man saved my life. I wouldn’t dream of putting this responsibility on you.”

“Right,” Merlin nodded, arguing with Arthur would just mean delay and he was trying not to think too hard about how easily it might have been Arthur slung over the horse in far worse condition – he shuddered - if the stranger hadn’t intervened.  Merlin did take comfort and pride in seeing Arthur taking such care over the villager/peasant. The sort of Kingly behaviour no one could fault.

“Besides,” Arthur quipped, “you’re as like to injure him further with your inadequate horsemanship.”

Merlin’s charitable thoughts evaporated. “I’m a better horseman than you,” Merlin huffed. It was true, oddly true. Merlin had a knack for it that Arthur didn’t, despite the disparity of years of experience.

Arthur scoffed, “I don’t recall falling off my horse today into a patch of non-existent stinging nettle.”

“I told you it wasn’t the nettle,” Merlin argued glancing down at the reddened skin on his arm, “it must have been some tree we brushed by with irritating foliage.”

“Or, it could be chafing from holding the reins too tight,” Arthur posited again.

Merlin didn’t respond as he mounted his horse. It wasn’t chafing that had caused agony and sudden redness to spread across the back of his forearm. Chafing was absurd in that spot and it wouldn’t have come on so intensely that Merlin would cry out or lose his balance and fall. In truth, he didn’t know what had caused the now blistering welt on his arm. He’d only guessed he’d had contact with some irritant but the rather perplexing thing was they’d been riding on the open road at the time and the pain had been subdued despite its angry appearance. He could only hypothesise that whatever he’d touched or brushed had a delayed reaction and hope that it didn’t worsen. Maybe it was just as well they were headed home quickly to Gaius.

Arthur had returned his focus to the villagers, he sidled his horse closer to them and called out imperiously. “If this man ever troubles you again, word is to be sent to Camelot. Soldiers will be here within a day.”

Mary, the tavern woman looked up, mild irritation on her face. “How can you make a promise like that?”

Arthur turned his horse towards Camelot. “Because I'm the King's son, Prince Arthur.” The words were tossed casually toward the crowd but Arthur’s demeanour was regal. Merlin watched just long enough for Mary’s face to register in wonder before turning. Merlin had seen enough. He had to acknowledge, grudgingly, that Arthur deserved some credit for personally intervening in the strife of the tavern. It was more than Uther would do and Arthur’s promises for future help, if needed, would be kept but Merlin didn’t need to witness the adoration. “Prat,” he mumbled shaking his head “and behind him he heard the distinct thwack of rotten vegetable hitting a body.

Merlin noted that Arthur had increased his speed, the prince’s focus was now saving the life of the man who had saved his. Merlin’s attention was on the road ahead. He’d almost failed once today in protecting Arthur he wasn’t about to be caught unawares a second time.

Fortunately, the journey back was uneventful and as swift as they could make it. Arthur’s arrival at Camelot with an injured man caused a brief flurry of guardsmen to be corralled into various jobs with the horses and supplies but Arthur took it upon himself – by commanding Merlin - to take the injured man to Gaius. The man was surprisingly heavy and in the end, Arthur had to help Merlin the last hundred metres.

Merlin pushed open the physician's door and could see no one had been sent ahead to prepare Gaius because he was still sitting reading over some notes when they came lumbering in. Gaius’s eyes shot immediately from the injured man to Merlin with open query. “What have you two got yourself into this time?”

“Pardon?” Arthur balked.

“I’m sorry Sire, that question was meant for Merlin . . . mostly,” Gaius added. “You better bring that man in here and get him off that leg as quickly as possible. I don’t like the look of that pallor at all.” Gaius gestured towards Merlin’s room. The cot for the ailing was put away until use.

Arthur and Merlin laid the man on the cot. Gaius hovered over him.

“Merlin,” Gaius instructed, “fetch me some fresh water, towels, a needle, and silk thread.”

Merlin nodded, “And honey?”

Gaius smiled approvingly. “You're learning.”

Merlin headed for the water and towels first bringing them to Gaius before gathering the smaller items.

Arthur took his leave, trusting Gaius to do all he could and reminding Merlin to keep him informed.

Merlin agreed then stood to the side watching Gaius work. The old physician looked up as he finished the last stitch. “Well, am I going to get an explanation, Merlin?”

Merlin sighed, “You needn’t look at me that way, it wasn’t my fault Arthur started a tavern brawl.”

“A tavern brawl?” Gaius raised himself up unsteadily from his patient. Merlin reached out an arm to assist and Gaius took hold gently but Merlin had forgotten about the rash on his lower arm. He winced and withdrew his arm painfully.

“What is it, Merlin? What have you done?”

Merlin didn’t get a chance to respond before Gaius was pulling at the sleeve to reveal the injury.

Gaius’s reaction was unnerving, his expression was full of alarm and puzzlement. “How did you get this Merlin?” The tone was urgent and stern, brokering absolutely no evasiveness.

Merlin hadn’t intended any. He shrugged. “That’s the thing, I don’t know. The pain just sort of hit me while we were riding. I thought maybe I brushed past-“

“When did this happen?” Gaius demanded, interrupting Merlin mid-explanation.

Merlin could feel his anxiety heighten. This was not an ordinary reaction from Gaius, was something seriously wrong with his arm? “Early morning, not long after we set out. Why Gaius?”

Gaius looked up into Merlin’s eyes and seemed to be searching them for something. “Because,” Gaius levelled, “Morgana came in with a similar injury around the same time. You wouldn’t know anything about that would you?”

“Morgana did?” Merlin said confused trying to put the pieces together. “Do you think this is some kind of magical illness?”

“I think that is very likely,” Gaius’s tone was acerbic but Merlin put that down to concern.

Merlin’s heart rate was picking up. “Do you think anyone else is showing signs of it? What do you think it is?”

Merlin looked at his mentor eagerly for guidance. All of his muscles were tense ready to spring into action, whether that be to the bookshelves here or the library or out into the woods again for herbs but Gaius was only staring intently, almost pensively.

“What?” Merlin quaked at the pause.

“You don’t know?” Gaius was peering at him intently.

“No. Why would I? Gaius, I don’t have a clue why you’re staring at me.”

“Morgana burnt herself on the arm this morning,” Gaius said factually, “in the same place as your mark. In fact, the injury looks identical.”

Merlin shook his head as if to sort the information into the right places. “Morgana burnt herself? But I thought you said it was a magical illness. What does this have to do with my arm?”

Gaius's eyes widened and Merlin could see the physician was in disbelief that Merlin didn’t understand whatever it was he was getting at. Merlin felt an impending sense of calamity. “Gaius whatever it is you think is going on please just spit it out.”

“The two of you clearly have linked your powers,” Gaius folded his arms and his brows descended crossly. “A completely stupid thing to do Merlin. Of course, you will share injuries. Whatever did you think you were gaining . . . or have the two of you . . .” Gaius's mouth clamped shut and the frown deepened but Merlin was shaking his head.

He wasn’t sure he understood Gaius but he knew he was wrong. “We haven’t linked our powers,” Merlin began forcefully but then he remembered the incident with the sleeping draught and the time they had both been flung across the room. “At least not intentionally.” Merlin looked imploringly toward his guardian who just stared back forlornly.

Merlin’s stomach churned. “Gaius, what does this do? How did this happen? Can we undo it?” Merlin’s mind had started to catch up with some of the things Gaius had said about sharing injuries and panic was beginning to well. He couldn’t afford to be debilitated while protecting Arthur because Morgana had accidentally burnt herself, or caught her finger in a door and – was it two-way? The sleeping draught seemed to indicate it might be. Merlin groaned. Morgana could get a lot worse than a minor burn, Merlin couldn’t count the number of times he’d been injured out with Arthur. He felt sick as he thought about the narrow escapes he’d had today alone.

Gaius had latched on to Merlin’s first statement. “You and Morgana never performed a rite? It is quite specific, this would be no accidental spell.”

Merlin shook his head. “No. Nothing. She only found out about me for certain two days ago, the most we’ve done magically is talk to one another.”

Gaius didn’t look entirely convinced but he nodded. “And you two are not,” Gaius hesitated, “involved?” The physician looked disturbed by the question.

Merlin’s brow wrinkled, “involved in what?”

Gaius opened his mouth, assessed Merlin, snapped his mouth tightly then shook his head firmly, “Never mind. Well, then Merlin, it appears we have a mystery on our hands. Maybe the fact that you share similar burn marks is a coincidence,” Gaius seemed to be talking to himself but he looked doubtful. “Have you had any other unexplained injuries, Merlin?”

“No,” Merlin replied with a shake of his head, “but . . .” he trailed.

“Yes?” Gaius prompted.

“Remember I asked you if goblin magic reacted badly with warlock’s?”

“Vaguely,” Gaius said.

“That was because the goblin made a potion for Morgana and I altered it to help her sleep.”

“Go on.”

“Well she didn’t drink it and then when I went to speak to her and she made me drink it to prove I was trustworthy and I did and she fell asleep as well. Immediately.” Merlin hurried on as the disapproval began radiating off Gaius, the next sentence wasn’t likely to improve things. “Also, I think Morgana tried to push me over using her magic on me and it kind of worked on her too.”

“I see,” Gaius's tone was flat but not neutral.

“But nothing else, just those things in the last few days.” Merlin shuffled his feet uncomfortably as the silence wore on.

Gaius finally shook his head and made to sit down at the table. “Honestly Merlin, I’m very concerned. I don’t know what to make of it because the two of you seem to have the hall markings of linked powers but to answer your previous questions Merlin I’m not sure how it could have happened without a particular rite or your willingness to enact it. Nor, I’m sorry to say do I know how to undo it.”

“But you do think there is a way to undo it?” Merlin sat down and leant forward beseechingly.

Gaius’s eyes rested on him frankly, “I don’t know. Such linkages were usually not entered into lightly and usually only by those,” Gaius paused or trailed and Merlin almost thought he was going to refuse to go on. “Well, it doesn’t matter because that’s not the case here.” The physician finished firmly.

Merlin thought it best not to press. “How am I going to tell Morgana?” Merlin dropped his head into his hands. He didn’t think she’d recovered from all he’d told her about himself yet let alone that they now had some sort of magical link-sharing injury.

“Nothing, you will tell her nothing,” Gaius instructed. “We aren’t certain of anything yet. I will do some research.”

“But if she doesn’t know how can she protect herself?” Merlin lifted his head.

“Protect herself from what Merlin? You? And how does she do that? Do you see the problem?”

Merlin nodded. He’d already seen the problem. He understood that he was more of a danger to her than the other way. “I promised I wouldn’t keep anything from her.”

“It’s just for a few days until we have something to tell her,” Gaius said reasonably, “there are going to be a lot of people about over the next few days due to the melee. Morgana can’t afford to be distracted in her behaviour with strangers around. Besides she doesn’t have your patience Merlin . . . and that’s saying something. That girl is headstrong.”

“She grew up in Camelot, she has to be.” Merlin pointed out remembering that it was that strength of character that often drove her compassion as well. “Oh Gaius what am I going to do? How can I protect Arthur or take the necessary risks to do so when it’s not just my life I’m risking?”

Gaius's voice was quiet but steady. “I don’t know Merlin but I’ll do my best to find out what I can about this possible link and then we’ll go from there.”

Merlin sat staring glumly at the table. Had he brought this calamity about somehow? He seemed to have provoked Morgana’s magic out of dormancy, was he now responsible for a new calamity befalling her? Maybe Gaius was right about keeping it from her for a few days – it wasn’t as if he’d be lying to her. No harm done. Right?

“Come on,” Gaius ordered, “we can’t do anything tonight. Help me fetch the extra cots. You have had a long day and your bed is occupied.”

Merlin had almost forgotten about Gwaine. He glanced towards the open door of his room and hoped the cheerful man was on the mend then followed Gaius to position the cots.

“And,” Gaius added as they worked. “You can tell me about this tavern brawl.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX