Author's Note: This is a future!fic two-shot for LoA (you do not have to read Legend of Albion first) inspired by chapter 8 of that story. Set about maybe 12 years after season 2 (or the last chapter that I posted of LoA). There are spoilers for what is already written in the story and for what is to come, although not everything here may make it into the final draft of the story, cause as we all know, the future is not set in stone. Italics are flashbacks.
Thanks for your help dearest AndyAiden and Ariella. Veritas. 34 for pre-reading, you guys are awesome, love you!
Dedicated to my amazing FF twin Azar443, love you girl, Happy Belated Birthday! I hope you like this (I made tiny references to your own writing here)!
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or any quotes/references you may recognize.
Reflections
All candles, chandeliers, and candelabras in the Hall of Ceremonies in the castle of Camelot are brilliantly lit. The flames dancing along with the noble guests, giving all within their vicinity a calming glow while reflecting the constant activity in the room.
Hanging upon the walls are finely woven tapestries, one each with a crest of every kingdom in Albion. Thin fabric of crimson and gold are wrapped around the columns and strung in various other places. Fantastic spreads of foods sit upon every table while servants are move about with trays of wine, ale, mead, and water.
The Pendragon family sits together at the high table, resplendent in their crimson and gold colors, dragon symbols, and shining crowns. The other royal families wear their respective colors and sigils, as well. Every knight proudly displays the kingdom his loyalty lies with; every Lady flaunts some of her finest adornments, all magical users display their powers openly, and all children delighting in being with their friends.
The hall is brimming with excitement and happiness… but also a hint of apprehension. While she, Queen Morgana Pendragon of Camelot and High Queen of Albion, maintains an air and demeanor of elation, her sea green eyes betray the trouble brewing in her mind and heart. She sits upon her seat at the royal table watching as the guests feast, drink, and mingles, enjoying the grand occasion of the young Prince Mordred's eighth birthday.
The somewhat forced smile on her fair face slips as Morgana turns her eyes to her right where her king and husband, Arthur Pendragon sits beside her with their son Mordred on his other side. A faraway look crosses her features as she reminisces of the time she originally met her eldest son, years before he was even born. And this brings her to why that had had to occur in the first place.
.~.~.
It is a month before the festivities for the celebration for Prince Mordred; Queen Morgana is at her desk within her chambers reviewing the arrangements for the feast. When she is finished, she rises from her seat to seek out Arthur when her plans are intercepted by their mutual cousin.
Estella – formerly carrying the titles of Lady and Duchess of Caerleon – is now Queen of Caerleon (since the duchy was raised to the ranks of a kingdom). And while she keeps the name Le Fay and the House de Bois as those of her birth, Lothian is her name now, as it is the house she has married into.
Morgana smiles at the midnight-haired woman in a lilac gown with white gold embroidery. The Queen of Camelot almost laughs at this. Years ago, her beautiful cousin would never even be caught looking at the color, let alone wearing it, and while her preferences still lean toward darker colors, she indulges in the lighter pastels these days, too.
Before the younger woman can say a word, Estella succinctly announces that they need to talk and continues to speak after only the briefest of pauses, "Over a decade ago, you met a young Druid boy with dark hair and blue eyes. You, Gwen, Merlin, and Arthur smuggled him out of Camelot and Arthur learned that his name was…"
The younger woman's eyes are solemn. "The time has come, hasn't it?"
"You knew, the day that you discovered that you were carrying him in your womb, you knew that the Druid boy named Mordred from the future… is your son," The gray-eyed woman pauses again. "And so you knew that one day he would travel to the past to meet you and Arthur before he was even conceived."
"I never knew why, though," Morgana turns her head to look at the bright sunlight streaming in. "I never knew why he was in the past in the first place and since Vivienne told me he was not from my time then… I decided not to know unless I was allowed to."
Estella dips her head slightly, "Now you shall know." Taking a step toward her cousin, "Elaine Sigan of the past is going to send her son Amhar of her time to Camelot with Cerdan the day that your younger self met Mordred. Now, it is only a different boy, what great change could occur?" Her moonlight eyes pierce into the side of Morgana's face, "Amhar may be a child, but that is his advantage, the closer he would get to you, the farther from Arthur you would get and our time here as we know it, will not exist any longer. So, your son is sent back in time, to ensure that our lives are as they should be and not as Elaine wishes to mold it."
"Mordred is only a boy," is the only thing Morgana can say as she processes this information and looks back at her cousin.
Her usual sharp gaze softens bearing a motherly expression she developed after she helped deliver Mordred and held the small boy in her arms for the first time. Being a mother herself now has brought out a great maternal instinct in her. "I know you fear for his safety, but you must trust your son. He and he alone is the one who must do this."
"Well, he will not be traveling alone, surely?" the younger queen inquires, when she only receives an apologetic look as an answer, Morgana shakes her head, "But he-"
"Will not be a boy forever," Estella reminds, "This is dangerous, yes, disturbing the delicate fabric of time even the most powerful of us fear to do such things, but he is your son. Mordred is born of Gorlois, de Bois, Le Fay, and Pendragon; it is in his blood to be strong, to persevere, and to try his hand at exceeding what destiny demands."
"… When and how long?" Morgana sighs, knowing that whether she agrees or not, Estella would be sending Mordred.
"Merlin, Freya, and I will perform the spell in a fortnight, and while for him it will be spending a couple days in the past, for us, he will be gone for roughly a week," she answers without hesitation.
A thought belated comes to the Pendragon queen's mind, "What does Arthur say about all this?" Estella does not respond, but this is an answer in and of itself, "You did not inform him of this."
"I am sure our dear Artie is smart enough to know that it is not a coincidence the Druid boy he saved is the exact likeness of his son now… and I was under the impression that the both of you discussed at least what you knew in regards to this."
Morgana nods, "Of course we have, but why did you not tell the both of us what you have just told me?"
The elder Le Fay then turns to the window, "Because, in spite of all that we have been through, despite all we have overcome…"
"You do not think that he is still angry and hurt because of…" Morgana starts to question her cousin.
Shaking her head, "No, not that. I am talking about me. Even with all that is different about me, I am still ever the same. In situations as these, my cool reason rules and his hot temper would not be able to hear clearly what I mean to say to him. Your warm affection can see my reason and persuade his temper…"
.~.~.
Queen Morgana temporarily comes out of her own mind as everyone toasts to Prince Mordred and gives their well wishes to him. Turning to face her handsome husband, the queen clinks goblets with him and takes a drink of the sweet wine.
Afterward, they call forth Sir Leon to bring Mordred his gift, his own armor fashioned for his small size along with a real – but unsharpened – sword made especially for him. The young prince delights in what his parents gift him with.
Next, Sir Ethan steps forward with a box. Opening it, two small gold and silver wine chalices are revealed. Arthur and Morgana glare to their right where King Gwaine Lothian of Caerleon is looking rather pleased with himself and his gift to his nephew. Even with his high status, amongst his friends and family, Gwaine will forever remain the jolly fool in their eyes. However, to his credit, he does have a responsible mind, a strong will, a loyal nature, and a noble heart (Estella would never let him stand beside her otherwise).
The guests have a good laugh at the present and Mordred simply admires the craftsmanship, oblivious to his uncle's subtle (but joking) intentions behind the gesture, as Estella rolls her eyes and shrugs with apology to her cousins. The tiniest of smirks comes to her lips when Gwaine leans to his lovely wife and whispers in her ear.
Morgana and Arthur look away from them as Ethan takes the box to where the other gifts are. Hefina, who was waiting until Ethan is away from her path then steps forward with a long, flat box in her arms.
The fair-haired woman opens the box and presents five finely crafted daggers – each engraved with an emblem of the families Mordred is born in, while the last has the letter 'M' for his first initial in intricate calligraphy. Mordred smiles brightly and adorably, thanking his Aunt Estella for her gift. She, in turns, nods to him, but winks at his parents signaling to them that the prince will not be able to simply toy with them whenever he pleased. As formal and proper as Mordred is (courtesy of his mother's tutelage), he is still a young boy, fascinated by weapons (much like his father).
As Hefina goes to put away the dagger set, Morgana looks sympathetically at the woman Estella calls her 'best friend outside of their family.' As loyal and kind as Gwen, but braver and stronger (although Gwen has certainly shown her own strength and courage), Hefina has not, however, found her soulmate as Guinevere has found Lancelot.
Once upon a time, there was Ethan and Hefina. They were spark-filled, passionate lovers, but it was not meant to last. There was no reason given from either as to why they did not go any further with their courtship as all who knew about them thought they would. Now, things are awkward between them, the flame has died and only a ghost of a relationship remains. Ethan is only stony-faced these days, while Hefina, in spite of being without a partner, is surprisingly content to simply be living her life.
Since Estella started her complicated plans to oppose Elaine on her own, Hefina has been dismissed of her duties as the former duchess' maid and allowed to travel if and as she pleased. Hefina found her way to the Isle of the Blessed where she became and remains an apprentice of sorts to Freya. While learning more about Druids and the Old Religion than Estella had taught her in their spare time together, with Freya's auspices and guidance, Hefina discovered a little bit of magic that is in herself. This scared and confused her greatly (since she did not even know that she had magic), but Merlin's wife was able to help her though and while her magic cannot overcome any of the sorcerers in her company, Hefina can hold her own is a battle of power.
Morgana sees Hefina pat Merlin on the shoulder and grin to the dark-haired woman on his arm as they make their way to Mordred. The magical couple gives the prince a spell book and the promise of visiting the Isle of the Blessed (now restored to its former glory). The king and queen nod to their friends as they allow Essetir knights to bring forth a small, black horse with a saddle and bridle. The royal children all indulge in touching its smooth mane and glossy coat. The eldest of them gives his thanks to his Aunt Morgause and Uncle Cenred (although the King of Essetir only allows himself to be addressed as such in the private company of the children).
The rest of the guests offer their gifts before the prince and the court and Morgana finds herself slipping back to the retreats of her mind to the events earlier in the day.
.~.~.
Morgana gasps loudly as she struggles to catch her breath. Chills run through her nerves as her entire body continues to shiver from the effects of her visions. Slowly, she pushes herself up from the mattress, draws down the red bedcovers, and leans against the dark wood headboard.
Fires, blood, clashing swords, death… the prominent things her visions show her – have always shown her, but she should be used to these things by now. Morgana has trained and trialed tirelessly to have the firm control and grace with her magic for years. Her visions, on the other hand, she cannot tame or do away with. Yes, her mother's enchanted bracelet can block most of them, but these horrendous images can give her insight into things – things that she must know before their times (even if she cannot prevent them). She needs to at least know of them.
The Queen jumps when someone shuffles into her bedchamber. "My Lady?" the soft, timid voice of her new maidservant sounds through the room.
Loosening her tight grip on the sheets and allowing herself to calm down, Morgana tries to offer a smile, "Sefa."
The auburn haired girl looks at her mistress with concerned. "Was it another vision?" the Druid girl inquires gently as she puts the tray of food down at the table.
The elder woman sighs heavily and rises from her bed. "Do not worry about me, Sefa. As Arthur has so 'lovingly' stated I am already worrying enough for all of Albion." A shadow crosses her features, "Even though it is only a select few in the kingdoms who know why I am currently worrying."
A sympathetic look is offered by Sefa, "Queen Estella assures that today should be the day," she reminds the older woman.
"It better be," Morgana almost demands with firmness, "Today is a special day, he must return home today."
After rubbing the queen's shoulder as a means to comfort, the young maid excuses herself to allow her mistress some time alone.
Morgana then goes to the water basin, grabs a small cloth, and begins to dab her clammy skin with the damp cloth. She then pulls out the garment she shall change into later and leaves it on a chair. After having a little bit to eat and drink, she moves to her meditation area, lights the candles, takes a deep breath, and begins to meditate.
She keeps her posture straight, yet relaxed. Her breathing controlled, yet even. Her mind clear, yet stirring, her magic flowing only within her and yet around her. The queen starts to feel the effects of the activity take hold; her spine tingles a bit from the tranquil waves spreading through her.
It is about half an hour later that her nerves have calmed and her equilibrium balanced. Morgana then calls for Sefa to help her with her hair.
After this, Sefa is dismissed to help with the celebration arrangements while the queen goes for a walk. The time tells her that her other children are down for their naps, Arthur decided to oversee the affairs of state by himself while Mordred was gone (for Morgana, in spite of herself, cannot help but worry), they would not need her help with the feast since this was only an annual celebration for their child prince, and with regards to Mordred, Estella, Merlin, and Freya are watching over him.
Only a select few know that Mordred was sent to the past. The cover story for why the citizens of Camelot do not see their prince for a week is that he is recovering from a slight illness he caught, so as not to pass on the sickness to his younger siblings or anyone else, he is kept away in his chambers. Not the best of stories to give, but his absence is only a week, so they figured it would be all right.
The queen finds herself in a more empty part of the citadel, adjourning the Darkling Woods. Sending out a miniscule wave of her magic as a signal, Morgana calls to the creature residing within the trees of the forest.
After a few moments… she emerges. She is almost as tall as the castle herself, her legs thick and strong, neck lean and limber, talons sharp, wings gracefully folded, scales flawless and pearlescent, and eyes like bright blue topaz.
Morgana bows her head first, "Aithusa, the White Dragon and the Light of the Sun."
After raising her own proud head, the dragon tilts it in inquiry, "We are being formal are we?" her harmonious and rich voice then asks and then follows the woman's lead, "Morgana, Dragon Mistress and High Queen."
The raven-haired beauty laughs along with her dragon at their antics. They converse over menial things and Aithusa nearly rolls her eyes when the queen starts to show her maternal side. Aithusa may be a dragon, but she is still young in years and is considered one of Morgana's children herself. The witch was the one who she hatched for after all.
After only a few minutes of talk, someone joins them. "King Arthur," the white creature addresses with a slight dip of her head, a gesture returned to her along with her name with equal reverence from the King.
"I do not mean to intrude, but if I could steal my wife, our children are awake and it will soon be time to take a trip to the forest," Arthur tells them.
"Of course," Aithusa answers and after their parting words, the royals take the route to the children's chambers and the dragon slips back into the haven of the trees.
Morgana becomes irritated by her husband's scrutinizing gaze and voices it to him, "What it is, why are you staring at me like that?"
Arthur shakes his golden head, "I only worry, my love."
"Did you not already say that I am doing that enough for all Albion?" she enquires.
"Yes, but your worry is for Mordred, mine is solely for you," he says.
"Arthur-" his wife starts.
But he cuts her off, "Now, you know I love our boy as much as you, but what you like to forget is that he is our son, part of us, everything that makes up us makes up him, except, he is braver than me, more intelligent than you, and stronger than both of us."
Morgana considers his words, not for their validity, which she knows they are indeed true but… still, the irony of the situation just now dawns upon her, "And Estella was worried that you would not allow Mordred to go."
Arthur's sea blue eyes narrow thoughtfully, "I think," he starts to say as he slings his arm around her slender shoulders, "That you my dear wife have been tricked by our darling cousin."
"What do mean by that?" she demands.
Chuckling, he responds, "'Do what you think is right and damn the consequences', it is a Le Fay motto, really. No matter what we would have said, she would have sent Mordred to the past anyway. She did not speak to me knowing that I would not worry so much. You on the other hand…" the queen huffs a bit causing her husband to chuckle again, "And do not worry, being tricked by Estella is standard for anyone."
"Hmm, she said that she did not want her cool reason to clash with your hot temper…" Morgana tells him.
Arthur nods, "Yes, I do have a bad temper, don't I? I would have yelled about if she came to talk to the both of us."
"It is a Pendragon trait, really."
Slightly affronted, his voice raises, "Hey! I resent that. Besides you married me."
"Hmm…" the queen taps her chin, seemingly in concentration "If I recall correctly, I did not even have a choice in the matter."
She smirks at her husband's almost sheepish expression, "Well… it seemed the right thing to do at the time."
Lifting an elegant brow, she teases, "Really?"
Hearing her taunting tone, he pulls his queen into an alcove down the corridor from their children's chambers. Arthur has her back against the stone, his hands on either side of her head, his nose a few inches from hers. "Yes, it was the right thing to do overall, do you know why?"
Her heart beats a little faster when she sees the wicked glint in his eyes, "…Why?"
Arthur waits to answer her, "… Because, we are both stubborn as it is our nature. To offer marriage to you would be fruitless since you would never accept, so to get my way, I had to claim you." Before she can yell at him for making her sound like an object, Arthur kisses Morgana in that demanding and yet passionate and loving way of his.
When they separate, she can only say, "Well, I suppose it is romantic in its own way, certainly different from everyone else's love story."
.~.~.
Morgana jumps in her seat as she feels Arthur's loving lips on her earlobe. "Arthur," she hisses.
The king merely laughs lightly, "Sorry, love, but I am not sorry for taking you out of your head. You missed most of Mordred's gifts and now you would have looked foolish in front of Estella if I did not grab your attention first."
The queen huffs and sees that their cousin is indeed maneuvering through the throngs of people to get to her. Shoving her husband out of her personal space, she turns her attention to her cousin-sister.
"Good to see that you have finally joined us once more, cousin," Estella smirks.
Morgana's smile drops and she groans, "Does everyone know?"
The midnight-haired woman giggles, "Only those who know you well will ever recognize when you are deep in your own thoughts. Everyone else will simply think you are being neutral to everything."
The younger woman sigh, she catches sight of Gwaine holding his and Estella's young son Gareth in his arms. "How are your children?"
The Queen of Caerleon smiles and looks in the direction of her family, "Growing more and more by the day. It seems only yesterday that I learned that I was carrying Gareth," she laughs once more, "It seems only yesterday that I first came to Camelot and these two children were fighting over me, refusing to admit that I was related to both of them."
Morgana flushes lightly and cuts her eyes toward her husband who is coincidently talking with Estella's, "Arthur started it," she insists.
The older woman manages to keep her laughter in, while nodding seriously, "Yes, indeed he did."
"You know," the eldest of the three Le Fays then joins the two dark-haired ones, "Even with all that changes, some things do remain the same." And this is a statement they cannot agree with more.
The night draws later and later, the children are eventually sent to bed, while the other guests choose whether to stay or retire for the night. Before Morgana, herself, leaves the hall, she surveys the room.
Leon, Hefina, Percival, Gwaine's sister Dindrane, Lancelot, Guinevere, Merlin, and Freya all sitting together at a table, sharing tales and jests and joy, excluding the former two, every one of them is on the arm of their respective partners. King Cenred is dancing with his wife, Queen Morgause, while Estella and Gwaine seem to have left for the night.
The Queen of Camelot then feels her king take hold of her hand. Smiling at her, he silently gestures for her to follow him out to the gardens. For a time, they walk together in simple silence, with the fading sounds of the party behind them and the sky above.
"Do not go back into the recesses of your head, 'Ana," Arthur then speaks up when he feels her spiritually moving inward through their bond.
"Sorry," Morgana sighs, "I cannot help that it happens whenever there is so much silence."
Shaking his head, "It makes you think too much, you have worries for the future, you are wary of the present, and the past is-"
"Alright, alright, I understand," the queen nudges her husband. "Why don't you talk about something that will make me stay in this moment?"
Arthur then starts to walk slower until he comes to a stop, Morgana quirks a brow, waiting for him to speak. Soon, he does, "What I said earlier, about having to claim you for myself instead of offering you me, well there is… another thought that comes to mind when thinking about our marriage and us."
"And what would that be?" she enquires with curiosity.
"The fact that with you I can be myself – that when we are together I am just me," he pauses briefly, "But more so, you are me and I am you, our absolute oneness is the thing that sticks out in my mind the most about you. Marriage requires two people and yet we are one."
Morgana has no words to respond to such a declaration and so she decides to give her husband a slow, ardor-filled kiss, one that always makes his mind hazy, his eyes see spots, and his heart beat twice as fast as its normal pace.
When air becomes essential they part their lips to breath but stay in each other's embrace under the caress of the moon's light, the sparkle of the stars, and the watchful eyes of their Guardians standing at the tallest tower of Camelot.
The male guardian then pulls the female, his wife, for a kiss underneath the bejeweled, night sky. When the two couples choose to retire, they leave behind the musical sound of their joined mirth on the wind – a soft assurance that no matter what lays in the past, present, or future, there shall always be love.
Author's Note: Well, if anyone didn't get it, Mordred (son of ArMor/Prince of Camelot) is sent to the past (where we met him in 'The Beginning of the End') to prevent Morgana from getting influenced by Elaine's son (Amhar, Druid boy mentioned in LoA) while also helping ArMor get closer... hope that makes sense. Second chapter will hopefully be posted by Christmas. Thanks for reading, please review :).
And if anyone has read/heard of The Mortal Instruments/The Infernal Devices (and even if you haven't), you should read City of Shadows by Ariella. Veritas. 34, it is a Merlin story set in the Shadowhunter world.