I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING. ALL THESE GREAT CHARACTERS BELONG TO AWESOME FOLKLORE AND BBC'S TV SHOW MERLIN.
THOUGHT I DABBLE AT SOME WRITING, LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK.
Chapter 1: Little Dragon
"Where are your parents? " Morgana asked, pushing a strand of hair away from Mordreds face as she lazily gazed into those striking, yet familiar blue eyes. The bond she felt between this boy was strange. She had never felt anything like it and although she didn't quite understand why, the fact that Merlin had come to her with him also felt oddly familiar, yet "right."
"Merlin…" she thought to herself.
"He has the same beautiful eyes as Merlin…"
Mordred shifted uncomfortably as he laid in Morgana's spare bed behind the curtain. He looked down at his hands as he fiddled with the crimson blanket that she had given him. SHE. It was weird, being so close to his mother. It had been so long since he last saw her. Before everything had changed. Before he had fallen into the veil and was thrust into a destiny and world that was quite different from his own. Magic was still outlawed here. A strange, yet cruel man - his grandfather - he reminded himself, was king. His mother was a ward to her father, who she did not yet know was her father, and his own father was the servant to his uncle. From what he could tell, his mother did not know yet that she possessed magic, and from his father and mother's interactions, it looked as though this was just the beginning of Albion's greatest love tale.
Mordred slowly glanced towards his mother, tears beginning to sting at the corner of his eyes as he sat there, pondering how to answer her question.
She looked a bit younger, the scar that she had received from protecting his uncle from dark magic had not yet adorned her beautiful face. Her eyes still gleamed with the same compassion and love that he often saw her either give to her children or father. It reminded him of a time before darkness had swept over their world, when he, his sister, father and mother lived in peace.
He noticed Morgana frown a little as she took her hand and gently wiped a stray tear that had escaped his eye.
"I should be strong" he thought to himself. But the common gesture that his mother performed brought back only more tears as he remembered his mother wiping away his tears in his youth. When he had fallen and scraped his knee, or was scared because there were times where he could not control his magic.
"They…they.." Mordred started before Morgana gently placed a finger on Mordreds lips, shushing him, and stating
"I understand. You need not fear. Merlin and I will make sure you are safe."
All he wanted to do is call her name, wrap his hands around her waist, and weep into her shoulder. He had missed her. Missed her power and determination as one of Uncle Arthur and Auntie Gwenivere's most trusted and well loved advisors. He missed her and father teaching him how to use and control his magic in the castle courtyards. He missed those rare, yet special trips that she would take only with him to her other father's, Gorlais, grave. He even missed his father and mother pecking each other on the lips from time to time as he and his sister gawked and gave each other disgusted looks.
He looked back up at Morgana as she tucked the blanket once again around his tiny frame. He had come to Camelot, seeking his father by his druid name, not knowing where to turn to in this strange world. He had to see them again, despite his father and mother's warning before he slipped into the veil. He knew that he could not reveal, at least not yet, who his parents were and why he was here, but he could at least give his mother an answer.
"I lost them.." he whispered.
"I know that they love me very much, and I them, and that we are doing everything in our power to get back to one another."
Morgana gave another sad frown and was about to reach out to Mordred again when she heard a slight knock, and a familiar face appear behind the door.
"How's the little dragon?" Merlin asked as he quietly shut the door behind him and strode over.
Morgana turned back to Mordred to see that he once again looked as though he was trying not to cry.
"He has been through a lot. We were just discussing his parents". She stated.
As his father walked next to his mother, it was in all his power, magically and emotionally not to cry at the fact that his father, who was known for making up the most bizarre words and nicknames, had just called him by his.
