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The Ouroboros Disk, part one
If the tavern owner in Tarquin had not been busy assisting at the bar of his establishment, he would have told Gwaine that two of his friends had been asking after him earlier. The man had seen both of them with Gwaine before, so he had felt comfortable unlocking the rakish man's room and letting them in. Which explains why Gwaine was totally unprepared to enter his room sometime after midnight to find the two of them asleep, one on the narrow bed and the other on the rug beside it.
Although Gwaine had not been expecting the late night visit, he knew immediately who they were. He stood for a moment smiling and bemused, wondering what misadventure the pair of them were involved in. Though he had made little noise, some warrior's instinct woke Arthur, and the blonde rolled up off his stomach and, slamming his back against the headboard, had brought his right hand up clutching a dagger.
"Whoa, mate. You're the intruder here, not me," Gwaine said, with an attempt at humor.
"Gwaine," Arthur murmured to himself. He lowered the dagger and waited for his heart rate to steady.
"Little jumpy, aren't we?"
"Shhh, don't wake Merlin. He's not been - uh - he's not been himself."
"He's hurt?" Gwaine asked, in some concern.
"Not exactly."
"How can he be not exactly hurt?"
"I'll explain in the morning. It's a little complicated."
Gwaine was on the point of asking sarcastically where he was supposed to sleep when Merlin, awakened by their voices, sat up hurriedly and, seeing a third person in the room, cowered back against the side of the bed. "What's going on? Who is this?" he muttered, uneasily.
The prince leaned over and gripped his servant's shoulder reassuringly. "It's all right, Merlin. He's a friend. We're in his room."
What the hell? Gwaine thought. There was more than enough moonlight spilling into the room for his dark-haired friend to have recognized him. He looked at the prince sitting back up in bed for an explanation.
The blonde sighed. "Merlin has lost his memory."
Two and a Half Weeks Earlier
Morgause reflected later with a kind of amazement that she had nearly refused to see them. A small contingent of villagers, three men and two women, all in their middle-years, had come to her and begged for a private audience. Two things stopped her from refusing outright: one was a mingled sense of curiosity and boredom, and the other was the location of the village itself. It lay on the outer edge of Cenred's kingdom, on land that had been fought over by Cenred and King Uther in the past. For this reason she made a big show of concern and interest in their petition.
"My lady," began the woman acting as spokesperson, "please accept this gift as a token of our gratitude." She handed the woman a folded afghan and curtsied deeply. The blonde sorceress hid her impatience as she took it from the woman and unfolded it. To her surprise the afghan was soft and beautifully woven. She ran her hand partly down its length. Someone in their village was greatly skilled in the weaving arts. Morgause thanked them with real sincerity.
The villagers exchanged looks of satisfaction and dawning hope. Their gift had been accepted. This all boded well.
"Now to business," the sorceress said, "what is your purpose in wishing to consult with me?"
"My lady," the woman said, "our village has been plagued by a large serpent that kills and eats our livestock."
"It threatens our people," one of the men said, stepping closer and interrupting. "Our children must be kept close, inside the village or even inside our cottages."
"It attacks mostly at night," the woman continued.
"This creature - you have seen it?" Morgause asked.
"Yes, yes," the villagers replied, nodding their heads. "Several of us have seen it."
Morgause was silent for a few moments, thinking. There had been rumors of a huge serpent in that area years ago. King Cenred had even sent his men to investigate. Nothing had been found, and the rumors had eventually died out.
"I will need time to study this and consult my sources," Morgause said. "Stay here tonight in King Cenred's castle. We have rooms for you."
The village elders exchanged glances. "We can do that. Yes," one of the men replied. "Thank you, my lady."
While a servant showed the villagers to their rooms for the night, Morgause left and a few moments later was climbing up a spiral staircase to a room in the top of a tower. She kept the door sealed by enchantment to keep out everyone from Cenred down to the lowliest servant. There was a mirror in the room which she kept covered with a fringed velvet cloth.
"Bene læg gesweorc." The sorceress removed the cloth and waited while purple smoke swirled within the frame. A few moments later a woman's face appeared in the mirror.
"Morgause! Why have you summoned me?" the woman asked, not seeming to be pleased at all with being disturbed. In appearance, she looked to be somewhere in her forties, her medium brown hair streaked with gray, her eyes dark and intense.
"Greetings, Mirror," the blonde sorceress said. "I have been told there is a large serpent that threatens the village of Goedwig. The villager elders have come to me for help. The creature, they say, eats their livestock and threatens their children. A few years ago, King Cenred received reports of this creature, and he sent men to slay it. These men could find no sign of it. I need you to tell me if this serpent actually exists and how it can be destroyed."
In answer, the purple smoke swirled again and when it cleared the woman's face was gone. In its place was a huge snake, as large as an anaconda. Morgause studied the image. It would seem the serpent existed after all. The image vanished in a swirl of smoke to be replaced by the woman's face again.
"I must warn you, Morgause. This is a creature of the Old Religion and can only be destroyed by powerful magic. No mortal man can slay it."
"So," the sorceress said, "If a man were to attempt to slay it, the man would be killed?"
"Yes," said the woman, annoyed. "I think I just said that. Or implied that."
"Just wanted to clarify," Morgause said, with a little smile.
The Following Morning
Morgause once again met with the villagers. "I have been told by my sources that the serpent that plagues your village is a creature of the Old Religion. Do not attempt to destroy it yourselves. You will fail. I know of a great warrior, and I will tell him of your trouble."
"Thank you, gracious lady," one of the men said. All of them joined in thanking her profusely with little bows and curtsies.
"Go back to your village," Morgause told them in parting. "Keep your children close for a little while longer."
a/n: This story contains a number of original characters from my previous stories.
Spell: Summon the mist.