Reawakening

Story 3 in the Reforged AU

CHAPTER 2

Pulling the hood of his fur-lined brown cloak around his face to ward against the blowing snow, Merlin secured the last of his saddle bags. Years of servitude had ingrained strong habits in him and despite the urging of his wife and friends, he refused to employ a servant of his own now that he was an adviser to the crown. Even with the incredibly generous increase in pay that came with the post. He was perfectly capable of handling these things and frankly didn't trust anyone else to do it right, anyway. With a flash of golden eyes, he lightened the burden on his horse by reducing the weight of everything in the saddlebags. His horse shuffled closer to him in appreciation, whuffing at Merlin with a puff of vapor. Its breath visible in the chill morning air. Winter had arrived in Camelot, and they were heading deep into the forests. His saddlebags bulged with food, feed for the horses, clothes, a tent, and all of the other necessary trappings for a venture such as this. In addition, his Sidhe staff was affixed securely to his saddle, ready to be used in an instant should the need arise. Unconsciously, Merlin reached up to adjust the neckerchief that he no longer wore, touching instead the ancient golden torque that had been a wedding gift from Gaius. The heavy gold was worked into twin dragons and had belonged to the old physician's own master, a High Priest of the Old Religion. Habits indeed. Having emerged from the cocoon of his years of service, Merlin now embraced his role as Emrys; a word he considered a title rather than a name. He knew his destiny was to help Arthur bring about a united Albion where all people, magical or not, were equals. And he agreed that it was a noble cause. Not just noble, but the most important thing he would ever have the honor of helping to achieve. Merlin was often humbled by his role in the future of Albion. He considered himself a simple man from a small town on the edge of a backwater kingdom.

But though Merlin was too modest to really dwell on it, he was anything but simple. Born with the magical abilities of a master Warlock, he was the last of the Dragonlords, brother to the two remaining dragons who were his kin and his friends. He didn't need to study his magic. It lived in him. In every drop of blood. And now that he was no longer masquerading as a servant, he had cast off the shell of his disguise. His appearance now commanded awe and respect. Every stitch he wore was finely made and expertly tailored from the finest materials, but his tastes were simple and his wardrobe reflected a man who was not born to wealth. Who didn't see himself as a powerful man. His tall brown leather boots were subtly worked with arcane symbols in gold but were also perfectly fitting and would last him for years. His long legs were closely encased in supple brown suede pants that would shed water when he rode in the rain. His embroidered blue tunic, tailored at Morgana's direction to display to advantage the physique that hard years of working and training with the King and knights had wrought, was thinly edged with golden embroidery of ancient script. Despite the decoration, it was also of high quality fabric and would last him for years. Covering it all, was his sumptuous, billowing cloak. An enchanted gift from a good friend, it was always perfectly warm but never too hot, regardless of the weather. His shaggy black hair and neatly trimmed beard completed the transformation from servant to powerful warlock. If not for his deep blue eyes and easy grin, he would have been unrecognizable from the gangly youth that had come to Camelot all those years ago. With one last tug on the leather straps securing the saddlebags and an affectionate pat for his brown horse, Merlin turned to his wife's fine white mare. Checking that the panniers were evenly distributing the weight of their contents and that they were securely fastened. He lightened the mare's load with another quick spell and gave her a thorough once over. With a satisfied nod, Merlin looked around for Morgana.

She was across the courtyard, saying goodbye to Gwen. The two women were embracing and trying their best not to cry. The contrasts between the two beautiful women were striking. Morgana was a bold declaration. Dramatic in every way. Her fair skin and long ebony hair were offset by her eyes. A clear, pale green framed by thick black lashes. They leapt from her face, heralding the fierce heart and powerful intellect that many never suspected from the ethereal beauty. Morgana often used this to her advantage, using her years of court training to school her features into a beautiful but empty mask and lulling her victims into a false sense of security before striking like a viper. Merlin's precious rose certainly had thorns, and it was very good for the kingdom what she now worked relentlessly for the equality and fairness of all citizens rather than on trying to conquer. Finely gowned in green worked with silver runes and snuggled into a pale cream cloak lined with white fur, she looked every inch the High Priestess that she was. Her power and otherworldly beauty had caused some to question if she was even human or was instead one of the fae, the faerie folk of legend.

In contrast to Morgana, Queen Guinevere was a study in warmth. Her heart shone from her kind brown eyes. Her skin was the color of tea with a touch of cream. And beneath her gold and ruby diadem, her rich brown hair tumbled down her back in gentle waves. Gowned in a regal raiment of deep red and gold, everything about the Queen was lush and inviting. Those who knew her best knew that despite her kind and generous nature, Gwen had a will and determination stronger than most warriors. Her strength was often hidden behind the wise and loving air she exuded. But if a threat came for those she loved, Gwen would transform into a whirling, deadly virago. Using words or steel she would come to the defense of anyone she considered 'hers' and woe betide anyone who thought to harm them.

Arthur approached Merlin and the two friends stood for a moment, watching their wives, matching contented smiles on their faces. Turning to his best friend and most trusted adviser, the King quietly said, "I trust you. I won't wish you luck on your mission because I don't think you need it. But if something does happen. If you need help in any way. Send word and I'll come immediately. Arthur's bright blue eyes looked earnestly into Merlin's own darker blue ones. "I know that Morgana has a history with many of these people and I want you to know you have the full backing of Camelot if anything should happen."

"That's part of why we accepted," Merlin somberly replied. "This gives us a chance to heal the rift between Morgana and the Druid community as a whole by showing that she has left her old life behind and giving her a chance to ask forgiveness and atone for her past actions."

This was far too serious for Arthur's liking. There were too few people with whom he could be himself and he wouldn't have the chance to verbally spar with his best friend for some time. "I should think that her being raised to a position in the court and welcomed back to Camelot as family would show that to anyone who cared to look. But hey. What do I know? I'm just the bloody King!" He replied, only half-joking.

"Bloody prat is more like it." Merlin muttered under his breath. Picking up on the fact that his friend was ready for some levity.

Arthur responded with feigned indignation. "Oh really? Oh that's rich! This from a lazy courtier going traveling just weeks after his honeymoon. Is it that you expect the kingdom to finance your jaunts through the countryside whenever the urge strikes? Do you ever intend to actually serve at your post, Master Court Warlock?"

"I would dearly love to if the King had even one tiny bit of sense in his big empty head and wasn't sending me out to trudge about the forest in the dead of winter. With nobody but my lovely wife for company. But alas, he does not and I must do as he commands." Merlin shook his head in mock sadness, a grin tugging at the corner of his expressive mouth.

Eyes sparkling, Arthur returned the volley, "Oh you poor man. You will probably magic something up and be more comfortable out there than you would be back home! And don't even pretend to complain about that wife of yours. I've seen how you two constantly look at each other. She's my sister, man! That is just disgusting!"

"Don't be jealous of our love simply because you're an old married man in a passionless marriage. It's sad really. Green is a terrible color for you. Maybe if you weren't such a clotpole your lovely wife would be more intereste-" Merlin was cut off by a cuff to the back of his head. "Ow!" He exclaimed with a laugh. Dramatically rubbing at the spot in feigned agony.

Flexing his well muscled arms and puffing out his chiselled chest, Arthur replied with a grin, "Jealousy doesn't suit you, magic-man! Tsk tsk. I'm well aware that you are jealous that I married the most amazing woman in the five kingdoms and you had to settle for second-best. But what can I say? Gwen has fantastic tastes and of course wanted only the best! You only wish you were a fine specimen like me!"

"Braggart."

"Hen-pecked."

"Hey! That's my wife you're talking about!" Merlin responded with a laugh. "Your sister!"

"Exactly!" Arthur exclaimed, dissolving into fits of laughter. "That's how I know it's true!"

It took several minutes for the men to stop laughing. This was part of why they were such great friends. Completely at ease with one another, their verbal sparring was both entertainment and their way of and expressing how much they cared about each other. Once their laughter was under control. They bid each other a sincere farewell and clasped forearms before Arthur began walking towards Gwen.

"Come, wife. We should be going if we're to make any real progress before sundown." Merlin's words, spoken directly into her mind, made Morgana smile. The silent communication the Druids used was something the dragons had taught them and had added an additional layer of intimacy to their relationship. They were able to slip in and out of each others minds. It was thrilling and terrifying and comforting. To look directly into the mind of your lover and see for yourself that their love is as true and unwavering as your own for them. A heady sensation.

"Take care of everyone here, Gwen." Morgana said with a sincere smile. "They can't do it without you and they know it. We will come back as soon as we can to let Mordred know what happened." With one last embrace the two women parted.

Approaching Merlin, Morgana reached up and gave him a quick kiss. "Are we all ready, then?"

"Anything we don't have we don't need." He responded with a grin while hauling her against him and giving her a properly thorough kiss. Uncaring that the courtyard was filled with observers. It wasn't until the Knights began cheering and he faintly heard Arthur yell, "Oh come on, Merlin! That's my sister!" that he reluctantly broke the kiss. "Ok now I'm ready." He sent with a feather light touch.

Flushed and breathing heavily. Morgana gave him a reproving look that didn't quite make it to her eyes before mounting her snowy mare. Merlin followed suit and after waving farewell to their friends, the two sorcerers rode through the gates of Camelot. Ready to begin their mission to bring Mordred's Druid clan back into the fold.