"The rules change for no one."
She didn't know how many times she had heard that muttered or yelled from his lips. It was practically the only statement he ever said that actually scared her. No fear flowed through her veins as he threw her into the dungeons, not once did her heart pulse as he grabbed her neck, accusing her of conspiring with the druids. Shock, yes. Anger, yes. But fear? Never. But one mention of the unchanging rules, and her head was in a tizzy, her mouth dry and palms sweaty.
That was why these so-called "nightmares" she had must stay nightmares. If Uther were to ever find out about her prophetical visions, her neck would be on the chopping block faster than you could say "magic." There would be no changing of the rules, not even for the king's ward. Because she would now be considered a sorceress, a traitor to the kingdom.
It was not as if she asked for these dreams that allowed her to see into the future. At most times, they were more of a hindrance than a help to her. She didn't remember the last time she had gotten a decent night's sleep, even with Gauis's help.
But the dreams were the least of her worries now as she made her way to the meeting hall, her mind racing with reasons why Uther might possibly want to talk with her. Had he seen them, then? Her new, mystifying powers that she had only discovered a few nights ago? She had yet to learn how to control them. They came and went as her mood fluctuated. They had been revealed during a fight with Arthur.
The two were up to their usual banter again when her temper flared up. That was when, unexpectedly, something flew off the wall and hit Arthur smack-dab on the side of his face.
"Ouch!" He said, bringing a hand to the wound and rubbing it. "Did you just- Did you just slap me?"
"Yes!" she lied, hastily using her foot to sweep the fallen candle under the bottom of her dress.
"But I barely even saw your hand move!" Arthur retaliated, still nursing the growing red spot on his cheek.
"I'm quick. You know that." she said pointedly, trying her hardest to keep a smug smile on her face. Lucky Arthur was so slow.
Arthur's face suddenly changed from confusion to anger. "I won't stand for this!" He yelled, briskly making his way to the door.
"Oh, and what are you going to do? Go crying to daddy for help?" she asked sarcastically, the candle beginning to grow hot beneath her foot. "I'm sure he would be so proud of his son coming to tell him about how a girl hurt him."
Arthur growled, pulling the door open. "Mark my words, Morgana, I'll get you back!" Empty threats. He slammed the door closed and as soon as he did, she kicked the candle out from beneath her. She watched it glow orange and red, and then melt until it was reduced to nothing but a pile of wax. How was this possible? First the nightmares, then the telepathy with the druid boy, and now this? It was getting harder and harder to conceal her powers.
Not to mention the mysterious booming voice that was calling out to Merlin every night, the one she had only heard in her head. She hadn't gone after it, not yet anyway. After all, it wasn't calling to her; she shouldn't meddle in affairs that weren't her own. She still had to wonder, though, what it wanted with Arthur's servant. Sure, Merlin intrigued her as well, not that she would ever admit that to anyone. But she wouldn't think about that at the moment. Her mind was focused on the looming conference with Uther.
She pushed the doors to the meeting hall open, briefly wondering how painful decapitation would be. She had been told it was the least agonizing way to die. That didn't make her want to chuck a candle at Uther's head any more.
"Good morning, my lady." Uther made a small bow towards her.
"Sire." She curtseyed. Her eyes never left his face, never grazed the floor. Who knew what intentions he had? "What do you require of me?"
"Well, it has come to my attention that your twenty first birthday is approaching."
"Yes, my lord." She breathed slowly and calmly so that her powers wouldn't act up again.
"So, it is time we found you a suitor."
There was a sharp intake of breath and she felt her nostrils flaring. She backed up a few paces and shook her head. Calm down. At least the room wasn't on fire. Yet.
"Why?" she questioned as he advanced closer to her. "I'm still young. I have many years yet to find a husband and… marry." Choking out that last word was one of the hardest things she had ever done.
He put his hand on her shoulder. Don't touch me. "It was your father's wish that you marry by the age of 21. He entrusted you in my care-"
"Why did you just now tell me this?" Her voice was cold, the words sounding more like a demand than a question. She shrugged her shoulder and his hand fell to his side, limp. "Do you really think my father would want this for me now?"
"Morgana, are you denying your father's plans for you?" His voice rose with every word. Same old angry Uther. The rules changed for no one. Uther's temper changed for no one.
"I am merely questioning whether or not he could have known what is best for me ten years before it happens!" she shouted, her voice quavering. She loved her father, but this… She was not prepared for this. "What can I possibly have to gain from a man? I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself!"
"I promised your father, before we went out on that battlefield, I gave him my word-"
"Who am I to marry then?" she asked, her voice shrill, her lips pursed. The chair behind Uther was teetering dangerously on one leg. Stop. It sat back down gently. Was she learning control?
"I will send word forth to all the noble men. Perhaps a knight from our own courts, even?"
She breathed. She needed to leave before another inanimate object decided to strike again. "You will inform me when they arrive?"
"Well… yes." he said simply, confused at her sudden lack of dispute.
"Goodnight, sire." She ran out the doors before he could reply. One of the walls inside the corridor cracked as she slammed the doors. Ha, I don't know my own strength.
That's when she heard it.
"Merlin!" The voice bellowed and shook the entire castle. How did no one else notice?
It was about time she found out who that voice belonged to, and what it wanted. She had lost enough sleep to nightmares alone; she didn't need that voice to interrupt her slumber anymore.
In another part of the kingdom, a young warlock was awoken from his sleep as The Great Dragon cried out in fury. Of course, he always has to call me when I'm sleeping.
He swore that he would never talk to the mythical being again, swore that they would never cross paths as long as he was living. But it was time he broke that promise and found out what the great beast wanted. He wouldn't miss another night's sleep over it.
AN: I am so incredibly excited for my first Merlin fic! I swore to myself I would finish the series before I wrote one, and as soon as I did, I got to writing! (I finished watching it today.) :D Hopefully the beginning was intriguing. Please let me know if you would like me to continue! I have this whole thing thought out, I just need to know if people are interested. Thanks!