p r e s e n t

Merlin gasped, his lungs starved for air, collapsing on his knees in front of the Great Dragon, cold sweat clinging to his skin, tears burning his eyes. He'd felt, he'd not just watched the events as they happened but he felt them. He could feel Arthur in particular (and that had been awkward, watching him shag Morgana, he felt a bit dirty, but that was one feeling in many), felt the pain of losing a child, even if Kilgharrah had only shown him what he wanted Merlin to see. Morgana's hollow cries were still echoing in his ears, and Gaius' guilt, Uther's rage, Arthur's love, all of them were bursting through his chest.

Merlin swallowed a breath of air, leaning back on his heels, tilting his head back and opening his lungs. He'd been nothing but a specter there, he'd not even felt himself. He'd seen flashes of what Arthur had been growing into even then; a better man than his father.

Merlin felt his own rage creep up. Uther had no right; he had no right to kill anyone for their magic, let alone his grandson. Even if Morgana and Arthur were half-siblings, they hadn't known that, they shouldn't have had that secret kept from them.

Pretty much everything was Uther's fault, summarized Merlin sardonically. He stood on shaky legs, wiping tears and sweat off his face with his sleeve, glaring up at the dragon. He seemed…smug.

"You wanted to know, young warlock."

"I didn't need to know every detail."

"And you do not."

"Yeah, well, I saw more of Arthur than I'd ever care to see," muttered Merlin, shaking his head to get the flashes of Arthur and Morgana out of his head. The dragon laughed cheerily, clearly amused by Merlin's pain. He sobered quickly, however, and went still with seriousness.

"Killing the Druid boy would still be for the best," he said. "Even the witch. However, since the truth of Uther's betrayal has come to light and Arthur has relieved him of his crown, their deaths will not be burdened by your shoulders."

"Happy day," said Merlin dryly. "I have to go."

"Your promise, Merlin? I wish to be set free."

"When Camelot isn't in uproar after Uther's fall and Arthur's rise, maybe. I have to go, Arthur wanted to speak with me before sunset."

"Hurry, warlock, I grow impatient in this tomb."

Merlin nodded turning and leaving the cavern. His feet dragged, after a day of riding through the forest (his crotch, at least, was less sore), then the emotional drain of living through the past he was exhausted. Merlin rubbed weary eyes, holding back a yawn as he followed the familiar path to Arthur's chamber. With a knock and Arthur's muffled 'enter', he opened the door and stepped inside.

And stopped.

And felt his jaw drop open.

"What on earth did you do?" he sputtered, staring incredulously around what once could have passed for his chambers. Nearly everything was destroyed, the wardrobe broken into pieces and clothing strewn about. A few of the chairs were currently being used as kindling, glass was scattered across the floor surrounding what used to be a handsome-looking mirror. Arthur was sitting at his desk, the contents of which had been swept off onto the floor, some even crumpled up and tossed. The prince had his chin resting in his palm, looking utterly bored. He blinked at Merlin, seemingly surprised that he was standing in his room.

"Merlin, good, I wanted to speak with you."

"Wh-what…what happened?"

Arthur glanced around his room, his eyebrows raising. "I was looking for something."

"And you had to destroy your room in order to find it?"

"No, it was in Uther's. I went there after my search here became fruitless."

Merlin closed his eyes as he swayed slightly on his feet, trying not to hum to himself to keep from hearing what Arthur was saying. "You destroyed the King's rooms as well?"

Arthur slammed his hand loudly against the desk, making Merlin jump out of his skins, snapping his attention to his master. Arthur was glowering at him. "Uther Pendragon is no longer the King. He has betrayed the codes he himself created by consorting with a known sorceress resulting in the death of my mother, he has committed treason by attempting to murder a member of the royal family, he further proved his guilt by attempting to deny it, by blaming his actions on the history he's kept secret. He has committed unjust executions of those with magic, who had done nothing more than have it. Would you wish for me to go on, Merlin? Or are you satisfied that with my findings, and that a trail will declare him guilty of his crimes?"

"I'm sorry, sire," murmured Merlin. "It's been a long day."

Arthur sighed, closing his eyes briefly in agreement. "It has, forgive me as well, Merlin, you've proven yourself more than my just my servant today. You're a trusted ally, someone I can rely on. Thank you, for going with me to see Morgause."

Merlin blinked at Arthur's admission. Not only had he acknowledged him, but he'd thanked him. Merlin nodded, sincerely grateful. "I wouldn't do it for just anyone, sire." then, "You're mother?"

Arthur's eyes narrowed at him. "Yes. Gaius has just finished telling me about my birth. Uther made a deal with a priestess of the Old Religion for a son, in exchange for my mother's life."

Merlin shook his head in defense of the old king. "I'm sure he didn't mean for it to happen that way."

"Then he would have chosen an innocent inhabitant of his kingdom willingly. It does not matter. He consorted with magic and the result was a death. That is a crime, as far as I'm concerned."

"I agree," said Merlin, surprising himself at his words, but finding he meant them. "Magic is only as good as the thing it is used for."

Arthur gave him a measured look. "That may just be the most intelligent thing you've ever said." Merlin grinned.

"Was there something else, sire?"

Arthur suddenly looked hesitant. "I want to bring Mordred back to Camelot with me, as well as offer peace to the Druids Uther once perused."

There was a prickling sensation at the back of Merlin's neck; he ignored it. "Of course, sire. I'm sure they'll see you are far different from Uther. They'll accept your peace."

Arthur nodded. "I'm taking Morgana with me. She is their kind, and Mordred trusts her."

"When do we leave?" asked Merlin with a firm nod of approval. But Arthur shook his head.

"I won't ask you to put yourself in such obvious danger, Merlin. I don't know how they might react to anyone other than Morgana and I there."

Merlin blinked in shock. "You can't tell me you're going alone."

"I'll be there to protect Morgana and she me," said Arthur defensively. "I trust her with my life."

"But what if the Druids cannot be trusted? They could use the opportunity to kill you."

"You sound like Uther," muttered Arthur, effectively shutting Merlin up. "I'll go with Morgana to fetch Mordred and make peace with the Druids, while you tidy up."

Merlin balked at the idea. "It would probably be easier to just find you a new room." Arthur looked at him, thoughtful of the idea. Merlin's eyes widened. "Oh no-"

"Excellent idea, Merlin," said Arthur brightly, standing up and walking around his desk to clap Merlin on the shoulder. Hard. "While I'm gone your job will be to find me a new room. And while you're at it, solicit Guinevere's help and find a suitable room for Mordred. Close to Morgana's chambers."

"Very well, sire," groused Merlin. Arthur dismissed him with a nod to the door. "There's nothing else, my lord?"

"I'm going to become King in the morning," said Arthur. "The ceremony will be held later, but that's just semantics. I don't need the ceremony, it's not important to me. When…if Mordred returns with us to Camelot, I will announce him as my heir."

"And Morgana?" Arthur grimaced.

"She's….she's my…Morgana is my sister, Merlin," said Arthur difficultly, turning away from him, a distracted look on his face. "I don't know how to handle this."

"Shall I wake you for the coronation, sire?" asked Merlin, changing the subject. Arthur nodded twice, remaining silent. Merlin waited for a few minutes, uncomfortable, before he bowed his head and took his leave, careful to shut the door without noise.

As he made his way back to the chambers he shared with Gaius, Morgana intercepted him while rounding a corner. She stopped him with a hand on his forearm, catching him off guard. He whirled, heart beating heavily against his ribcage, and only calmed slightly when he recognized Morgana.

"Merlin," she whispered, pulling her hand away from his person. "I frightened you, I'm sorry."

"What is it, Morgana?" His voice sounding so abrupt in his ears caused his shoulders to relax. "If this is about tomorrow, Arthur has already informed me-"

"Actually, I…I wanted to apologize," said Morgana, her cheeks brightening. Merlin frowned, about to point out that she just did, when she continued. "For striking you earlier, it was out of line, you were only trying to be helpful."

"I suppose," said Merlin. "I-" he paused, sighing and shook his head. "Goodnight, Morgana."

Morgana frowned at him, questioning him with her eyes, but nodded and stepped away, back down the corridor to her chambers. "Goodnight."

Merlin watched her go, the admittance of his magic still hanging on the tip of his tongue. It was unfair, completely and utterly unfair that he had to continue to hide who he was from people who needed him, from Morgana and Arthur and Gwen-people who trusted him. Uther was out of power and Arthur had already made it very clear that it was going to be a different Camelot in his rule. He shouldn't still be so cautious. He should admit his birthright before it cost him his home and his friends.

Gaius disagreed with him. In fact, the first thing he asked Merlin when he entered their chambers was if he'd confessed to Arthur.

"No." replied Merlin stiffly, proceeding straight to his room and to bed, forgoing to change his clothes and merely falling facedown into bed. He was asleep within minutes and dreamed of a horse arguing with him about directions and Mordred standing between Arthur and Morgana. They stared at him in silence, even as he pleaded with them to help the horse see reason.

He woke up before dawn the next morning without any recollection of the dream, except for a brief annoyance around Arthur's horse while he saddled it. Though that may have been a straggling emotion from Arthur's coronation; annoyance at how silent people were, the few of them allowed to be witness. Arthur's knights, Morgana, and Merlin himself were the only ones in attendance.

Merlin tried once more to convince Arthur to let him ride with them, but again the King (Merlin swelled with joy every time he used 'King Arthur', even in thought) refused. Morgana shot him a sympathetic look, and he had to bite his tongue. She wasn't meant to protect Arthur; that was hisduty.

He watched them go silently as the city began to awaken and come to life in the rising sun, Gwen at his shoulder radiating confusion. She'd not been in the room when Uther had revealed that Morgana was his daughter. Sir Leon had been the only other person who knew, and Arthur trusted him enough not to run his mouth.

Merlin hoped he hadn't made a mistake, not stopping Uther's dethronement.

.

The Druids were not as hard to find as Arthur had thought they would be. But maybe that was because they were waiting for them when they arrived. There was a tense moment, where Arthur and Morgana looked at each other and shared a single concern: is this an ambush? Arthur abandoned his concern, climbing off his horse and stepping forward toward the Druids.

"We're not here to hurt you, I swear it," said Arthur, his voice sounding stronger than he felt. He heard Morgana climbing off her horse and stepping softly to the ground, her arm brushed against his as she stepped in front of him and he had to bite back the urge to hiss a warning at her. They were her people.

"The reign of Uther Pendragon is over." The statement was true, and that meant- to the Druids - that the new King of Camelot was standing before them, clad in armour and crimson and a blank face flickering with pain. "We've come-"

"We know why you've come," interrupted an old man, snow white eyes and vitiligo marring any visible skin, stepping through the small cluster of Druids before them. "We just don't know why you would want to."

"Please," said Morgana, nearly begging. "We never wanted him to be taken from us."

"We didn't even know he was alive," continued Arthur when Morgana stopped speaking. The old man turned his head slightly from Morgana to him, and Arthur felt an odd prickling sensation as the obviously blind man scrutinized him. He nodded once and gestured behind him.

Morgana's breath hitched, "Aglain," she whispered as the black man emerged from the parting crowd. He smiled kindly at Morgana and held out his hand for her to take, which she did with a smile.

"You're not here to force him," he stated, looking away from Morgana's face to Arthur, who nodded in confirmation. Aglain held his gaze and then nodded as well, releasing Morgana. "Of course you're not. Daegus was one of the men Prince Arthur brought Mordred to after helping him escape Camelot, if he didn't trust you…" The old man - Daegus - raised one white eyebrow in acknowledgement. Aglain smiled down at Morgana. "He has missed you."

Again, the Driuds parted and this time Mordred walked out, confusion shining in his eyes as he glanced around at the people gathered. His eyes landed on Morgana and a wide smile broke out across his face. He ran to her, cloak billowing behind him, and Morgana dropped to her knees to meet him, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

Morgana? Mordred asked, frowning at the woman holding him so tightly, like she might die if she were to release him. Morgana just shook her head, trying to keep control of her tears, to not sob into her son's shoulder like a mad woman. He wouldn't know why she was crying, she didn't want to frighten him so quickly.

Arthur shifted on his feet, looking away. The movement caught Mordred's attention, and his eyes narrowed at Arthur's presence.

What is he doing here?

Morgana composed herself enough to pull away from him, holding him by the shoulders and staring into his eyes. Arthur's eyes. How had she not realized it? How could she not have recognized the little boy in her arms as her son? Was that the bond she felt with him? The one that had led her to defy Uther, that had lead Arthur to defy him? Yes, it had to be. It was an older magic, a natural magic, one that coursed through the blood in every man, woman and child who had ever been born. Morgana lifted a hand, running her fingers through Mordred's hair, pushing it away from his forehead.

"This is going to sound very strange…" she began, trailing off when the words that came next didn't sound right. How could you tell someone you had birthed them? Morgana sighed. "Mordred-"

"We're your parents," interrupted Arthur, saying exactly what she had been thinking, only far less complicated and emotional. She half wanted to roll her eyes, but it did sound so much better when he said it. She smiled to herself. Mordred's parents.

The poor boy looked stunned. He blinked once. Then again. He opened his mouth to speak (actually speak) but then closed it again, finding that he couldn't exactly find any words to describe…this. Mordred looked from Arthur to Morgana, then up at Aglain, who inclined his head in affirmation. He turned back to Morgana.

"You're my mother?" he asked softly. She nodded, unable to speak properly. Mordred look at Arthur. "And my…father?"

"Yes," Morgana breathed. Mordred's eyes fell to the ground, whizzing across the dirt quickly as his thoughts probed alongside hers. Why did you leave me?

"No!" gasped Morgana, not caring that there were people standing around them, watching and judging and hearing only her side of the conversation. Not caring that Arthur was looking so guilty for following Uther and having to atone for his father's sins, standing with the Druids. "No, we never wanted to leave you! We were told that you had…that you were…"

"Gaius sent you away from Camelot after Uther had ordered your death," said Arthur quietly, once again taking the simplest route her thoughts had taken, she sent him a grateful look over her shoulder. When she looked back at Mordred, he was staring at Arthur, hatred in his eyes. He thought Arthur was like Uther and that was clear, but he couldn't have forgotten that Arthur had saved his life, could he? Arthur met Mordred's gaze unblinking, and spoke clearly, so he would not be misunderstood. "What has happened in the past will never happen again, not while I am King."

"We want you to come with us to Camelot," said Morgana softly, after the weight of Arthur's words had sunk into the people around them. "We want to make up the time we've lost with you."

Mordred continued staring at Arthur, gauging the honesty of his words, the meaning behind them, what he was trying to say underneath them. If he read something, he didn't show it, but turned his eyes back to Morgana's and nodded.

I have missed you, Morgana.

"Mother," corrected Morgana, tears slipping down her cheeks as she smiled. "You can call me mother now."

A thoughtful look crossed Mordred face. Mother…

She nodded and stood slowly, so as not to startle him, holding out her hand for him to take. He did, his eyes brightening as he looked up at her. Arthur nodded, but didn't move to get back on his horse. Morgana frowned at him, unmoving.

"Arthur?"

"I would like to speak with you," he began, addressing the Druids. They looked almost surprised (but maybe that was faked, it was hard to tell), and waited patiently for him to continue. "With Uther's fall, I intend to reexamine the magic ban he had held over the city. It will be difficult, I know that some would take advantage of an immediate shift in our stand on magic, but hopefully I could ask one of you to come back to Camelot with us, as an advisor. Surely only one of magic has the right to pass judgment on those with it as well?"

Morgana felt pride swell up in her chest. She'd never been so proud of Arthur, never, not when he'd become a knight, not when he'd saved Merlin after being poisoned, not even when he'd rescued Gwen. Mordred was staring at his King with an unreadable expression on his face, looking torn between approval and embarrassment. He'd looked against the surface of Arthur's mind. Something that was forbidden of his kind, and noticeable. But Arthur hadn't acted like he'd felt a difference. What Mordred perceived…

Had Arthur overthrown Uther for him? Was he really the final straw that broke Arthur's tolerance of his father's behavior? He wanted to ask, badly. But he was unable to. It wouldn't be right, not with the Druid Elders behind them, listening in, some of them even listening into him.

But Isla didn't look too disappointed in him when he turned his head back to look at her, catching her playing with the strings that kept his thoughts from his people. She looked sad. Morgana noticed his attention was elsewhere and turned her head to follow his gaze. She frowned and squinted, trying to place the older woman in her memories. Daegus interrupted her thoughts with an answer for Arthur, and with a rustle of fabric, the dark skinned man Morgana called Aglain stepped forward, a leather satchel hanging over one shoulder.

"Aglain," said Daegus, gesturing to the man in red robes. "Would be more than happy to join you in your court." There was a pause and a flash of a sincere smile and then Daegus (along with the rest of the Druids) bowed their heads. "My Lord."

The sight was rather touching, even Arthur knew that. He inclined his head back in respect, then nodded to Aglain. "I would be honored by your attendance in Camelot."

"Shall we take our leave, then?" asked Morgana hesitantly, wanting to stay a little longer with the Druids, to learn something, but wanting to spend time alone with Mordred, learning all about him, introducing him to the life he would someday be accustomed too.

"You'll ride with me, Morgana," Arthur said turning to her, and Morgana heard the explanation underneath. He didn't want to pressure Mordred into riding with him, but he didn't feel comfortable riding with another grown man. And a Druid at that. She would have laughed at him if he hadn't been so tense.

"Or course," she said instead, releasing Mordred's hand reluctantly and moving towards Arthur's horse. Mordred didn't move, remained standing where Morgana left him, staring at Arthur cautiously. Arthur stared back, and briefly, Arthur could have sworn he thought something was buzzing around his ear. The sensation was gone in a moment.

"Mordred?" prodded Aglain, urging. The boy nodded and the tension in the woods dissipated.

"Will this be alright, Arthur?" whispered Morgana into Arthur's ear after he had helped Mordred onto the horse in front of Aglain and climbed onto his own behind Morgana. She had pressed her back against his chest, her mouth turned against his ear. "Mordred in Camelot? What if people find out…?"

He frowned. People could find out a lot of things. They could find out Mordred had magic, that Morgana did. That she was the former King's daughter and therefore should have been first in line for the crown by birthright and Mordred, being their son, a disgrace to the Pendragon house.

"People will have to learn to behave without Uther ruling," said Arthur, nudging his horse into a trot once he made sure Aglain and Mordred were both ready. "It's going to be very different in Camelot. I'm afraid people may not approve of me as their King at first."

"That's not true, Arthur," insisted Morgana. "The people love you. You have always advocated for them, even if it was against Uther's orders."

"I hope you're right," said Arthur softly. They stayed silent through the short ride back to Camelot. It was nearly noon, and the city was crowded with vendors and peasants, travelers and peddlers. Pubs were open to anyone in need of a hot meal or a cool drink, children running through the cobblestone streets. Nearly everyone the four on horseback passed stopped to stare as their prince and Uther's ward rode past them, two outsiders following.

"You'll have to make an announcement," said Morgana softly, trying her best to ignore the stares. Arthur hummed in agreement.

"Before the day is out," Arthur vowed. "I've already sent word to the four kingdoms of…Uther's passing the crown to me. I've asked them to continue to Camelot as planned, for discussion of the Peace Treaty."

"Waiting to tell them you've overthrown Uther in person?" asked Morgana, chuckling. Arthur barely managed to keep the grin off his face.

"It's not funny, Morgana."

"Oh, no," amended Morgana, turning her smile into a mock frown. "Of course not, Uther getting exactly what he deserves is not funny at all."

"He deserves a noose," snarled Arthur. "But he was the King; I can't just kill the King and pretend my ascension to the throne was not forced."

"Are you going to keep him in the dungeons forever?" asked Morgana seriously, keeping her eyes forward. Arthur made a noncommittal noise in the back of this throat.

"I suppose I'll have to. I won't allow him to stay in his chambers under house arrest, not with Mordred and Aglain around." he shook his head. "But that could only last so long."

"Well," said Morgana slowly. "See how it goes. Camelot first."

"Yes," agreed Arthur, straightening in his seat as they neared the castle, where Merlin was waiting impatiently for them. "Camelot first."

.

Mordred had been given free reign of the castle, with the exception of the grounds, as a precaution, without the escort of a knight, Morgana, or Arthur himself. He felt so much a prisoner with the walls of the castle pressing in on him. He wanted to be back in the woods, the only thing he wanted pressing in on him were the towering trees and the night sky.

As Mordred wandered the halls of the castle, he ignored the awkward bows and nods the servants gave him as he passed. He didn't care that Arthur had announced him as his heir, didn't much care that people were starting to call him 'My Lord' and 'Prince Mordred'. Honestly, hearing his name out loud was more bothersome than 'My Lord'. The Druids had always kept his name silent, preferring not to talk to him directly if ever.

If he wanted to stay with Morgana, though, he would have to get used to it.

A rustle of fabric around the corner caught Mordred's attention and he slowed his pace, moving toward the wall silently, pressing his back against the stone. He peered around the corner and relaxed, seeing Aglain standing by himself looking out the window across the city. Mordred turned the corner, opening his mind to greet the older Druid, only to find himself frozen. He blinked wide eyes at Aglain who turned his head slowly, a cold look in his eyes.

The corner of his mouth twitched, his lips pursing and snorted. "Oh, the look on your face."

Aglain stepped forward. As he did his appearance changed. His skin grew lighter; his stature turned shorter, the scruff of a beard grew along his jawline; his eyes turned green. Mordred found Alvarr standing in front of him, in Aglain's robes, a twistedly pleasant smile on his face.

"My Lord," said Alvarr mockingly, bowing ridiculously low and taking a knee. "Fancy seeing you here."

Alvarr. The older Druid smirked. What are you doing in Camelot? What happened to Aglain?

"Aglain was unable to come," said Alvarr simply. "I came in his place."

Mordred had a sinking suspicious that Aglain was unable to come because he was dead, but he said nothing of it, just nodded at Alvarr's words. And you're hiding in his appearance? Why?

"Morgana trusts him," said Alvarr. To Mordred it made sense. Morgana would not have trusted Alvarr unless the other Druids approved of him, which they did not and Arthur wouldn't have let Alvarr into Camelot if Morgana didn't trust him. Coming in Aglain's skin was the only way Alvarr could be in the city.

But why did you come in the first place?

"Because," breathed Alvarr reaching out to take Mordred by the shoulders. "Because you cannot trustArthur, Mordred."

Morgana says otherwise. And I trust Morgana.

Alvarr shook his head. "He is nothing but Uther's son."

That's not true, he saved me once. He didn't have to but he did.

"Mordred, listen," whispered Alvarr harshly, his grip tightening on Mordred's shoulders. "The only way for our people to be truly free is if one of us takes the throne. Arthur's announced you as his heir and if he dies, you will take the crown."

You plan to kill the King, Mordred stated, giving Alvarr a look. He is not naïve; in fact he's almost expecting someone to try to assassinate him. It will not be easy for you to do. Alvarr's eyes glittered in anticipation, silent, waiting. Mordred blinked. Me? Me kill him?

"You ar ehis son," said Alvarr, barely suppressing the excitement in his voice. "He will never expect-"

He is served by Emrys, interrupted Mordred. I would never get away with it.

"Then we'll kill him too."

Mordred shook his head slowly, not finding an acceptable plan in his plot. Alvarr shook his shoulders slightly, breaking his thought process.

"Mordred, you do not trust Arthur, I can see it in your eyes. We will usurp him, and the Druids will rule Camelot under you. We will make peace in this land the way the Pendragon's have not. Do I have you?"

For a moment, Mordred thought of saying no, no that he wouldn't betray Morgana's trust in him by killing Arthur. But peace in Avalon, a peace he could help create…He nodded and a smile broke through Alvarr's face. The older man clapped him on the shoulder and stood.

"Then let it begin."