Wednesday, 18 December 2013

Merlin ate a blueberry muffin for breakfast as he helped Carl, Sophie's husband, hang more fake plastic snowflakes from the ceiling of the bookstore.


"Coffee?" Lancelot asked, stumbling into the kitchen. His eyes felt scratchy from lack of sleep. Gwen looked horrible. Her face drawn tight from a night spent tossing and turning ad taken a toll on both of them. However, whereas Lancelot had today off, Gwen was facing a ten hour shift.

"Sorry?" Gwen asked, turning to look at Lancelot.

"Do you want some coffee?" Lancelot repeated.

"That would be lovely," Gwen murmured. "You look as exhausted as I feel. Did I keep you awake?"

"Only a bit," Lancelot said diplomatically. He turned back to Gwen once he was pleased the new coffee maker, with more buttons and features than their last one had, was happily percolating along.

"Bad dreams?" he asked.

Gwen simply nodded. Lancelot leaned forward and, pressing back her wild bed head, kissed her forehead.

"Want to talk about it?" he offered.

"Don't really remember them," Gwen fidgeted. "Anyways, I think they were more odd dreams than bad dreams."

"It was probably only left over nerves from your first day," he suggested.

"Which reminds me that I need to take a shower," Gwen sighed.

"Coffee will be ready when you come back out."

As Gwen stumble out into their tiny hallway, Lancelot glanced at the clock. Quickly reaching into their cupboards he started to prepare some oatmeal.


Gwaine sat on the painfully cold swings and wished he had remembered to grab mittens. His hands were so cold they felt they were about to fall off. Glancing down to the swing beside him, he grimaced at the young boy sitting solemnly on the swing. The kid looked to be having as much fun as Gwaine felt.

"So, have you sent Santa your list yet?" Gwaine asked.

Mordred said nothing. Sighing, Gwaine, tried to think of another thing to think of saying.

"I did," Gwaine lied. "Told the big man I really wanted a motorbike. What do you think? Can you see me with a motorbike?"

Mordred smiled slightly.

"There you go," Gwaine said cheerfully. "I could teach you how to drive it."

"You don't even know how to," Mordred said, smirking slightly.

"Oh, I'll show you," Gwaine said, jumping up quickly and grabbing hold of a squealing Mordred. Tickling his sides was mostly pointless with the vast thick coat he was wearing.

Breathless, Gwaine let Mordred break away, smiling up at him.

"You're too strong for me," Gwaine panted, playing it up to keep Mordred smiling.

"You're just old," Mordred said.

"I'm only thirty," Gwaine complained.

"That's what I said," Mordred said.

"That's it. I am going have to talk to your father about this cheek of yours."

Shaking his head, Gwaine sat back down on his swing and smiled over at the little boy.

"Uncle Gwaine ..." Mordred asked softly. "Will Mom be okay?"

Gwaine felt his heart drop. Just thinking of last night and having to help Leon restrain Morgana as she scratched and clawed at them. He did not know how long Leon would be able to hold everything together. Leon was trying to keep Morgana home until after Christmas, but Gwaine could not see how. Her lucid periods were getting shorter and shorter. Looking down at Mordred, he looked so much like his mother it was painful.

"She said I had to hide from Dad. That Dad would kill me if he saw me," Mordred whispered quietly into the chilly December air.

"Hey," Gwaine said, gathering Mordred close to him. "Your mom and dad love you. Your mom is just a bit sick right now. She doesn't know what she's saying."

"Promise?"

"I promise," Gwaine said. "Your dad loves you more than anyone else in the world. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes," Mordred said.

"Then why don't we make the most out of skipping school and grab some hot chocolate, what do you say?" Gwaine offered.

Mordred nodded and together the two of them left the small park behind them. Gwaine just hoped that Morgana was lucid by the time they got back home.


"We wish you a Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas," Freddie stuttered, smiling slightly as he ate his mashed potatoes. Arthur smiled at the strange man. He was not familiar with the song or holiday he was trying to sing about, but he could appreciate the sentiment. "And a Happy New Year, New Year, New Year."

"That was lovely," Arthur lied.

"Thank you, your majesty," Freddie said, his blush clashing with his red hair.

"Your majesty?" the nurse, Gwen, said as she stepped into the dinning hall and stopped short when she made eye contact with Arthur. He was fairly sure that Gwen had been avoiding him.

"Guinevere," Arthur said.

"Arthur ... Are you done your meal?" she asked.

"Yes," Arthur said. He waited to see what she would do. Gwen hovered, unsure, for a moment, before she rushed forward and grabbed his tray.

"It looks like your appetite has returned. That's good," Gwen said softly, still refusing to meet his eye.

"How did you know I wasn't eating?" Arthur asked.

"It was in your file."

Gwen made it sound like that should mean something to Arthur. Frowning, he wondered if the nurses talked about the patients just like the servants used to in Camelot. Of course, back then Gwen would never have put much stalk in it ... Or Merlin. Merlin always hated the castle gossip.

"You are married to Lancelot," Arthur said. He had been given a long time to think about it. It made sense. Back in Camelot Gwen had fallen for Lancelot first. She had loved him right to the end.

"Yes," Gwen said.

"Is everyone back?" Arthur asked, desperately. "Leon? My knights? Merlin?"

"I think you are confused," Gwen said softly. Arthur hated to see the pity in her eyes. "The doctors told me of your condition, and I'm afraid I made it worse yesterday."

"I don't have a condition," Arthur growled.

"Lancelot and I are not from Camelot. We're not a medieval Queen or Knight," Gwen said.

Arthur reached out to grab her hand.

"I am not mad," Arthur said. "I know you. And deep down, I know you must remember me."

"Let go of me," Gwen said softly, but with a slight edge. Taking a deep breath, Arthur released her. Gwen straightened her clothing and turned to leave. Soon a different nurse was coming back to collect Freddie's tray. Arthur noticed the way she kept a slight distance from him.

"Don't worry young King," a deep voice said from behind him. An old, crippled man with shocking white hair that seemed to sprout from every portion of his body smiled at him. "Your sorcerer is waiting for you to find him."

"What did you say?" Arthur asked.

"Round and round we go," the old man sang. "Can't stop. Never stop. Stop!"

Before Arthur's horrified gaze the man leaned forward and started to smack his head against the wall. Nurses rushed past him and pried him away from the wall. Some of the men they kept around, started to lead him away.

As they past, the old man grabbed Arthur and whispered tightly, "The witch is coming. Beware the witch is coming."