Adelaide stood breathlessly at the bridge, overlooking the troops returning from battle.
Her eyes frantically searched the crowd for one face in particular. Yet, she didn't find him among the faces of the living.
Marching behind, some men brought the carts that carried the dead.
The young woman sobbed.
Morgana gasped and clutched at her blankets as she sat up. It took her a moment to remember her whereabouts. The castle. She was back at the castle, as she had been for the past week. She was safe behind the thick stone walls, secure beneath the warmth of the royal blankets that draped her.
But would she stay that way?
Her dreams constantly pointed towards a time of war. But why? And when? There were so many unanswered questions that plagued her mind. Why should she be tormented night after night with visions of the future if they could explain nothing to her?
She shook her head. It had to be further in the future. Her handmaiden had looked... different somehow, and to her knowledge Adelaide wasn't connected to any man. How would she have someone to mourn with the tears of a lover?
A soft, distant melodious hum filled the hall leading to Morgana's room. The door creaked open, and she could hear it clearer. A flickering candle flame illuminated the face of the girl who walked in, a faint smile curving her lips.
"Been up to something, Adelaide?" Morgana asked, startling the young woman and making her jump.
"My lady, I was just coming to check on you," Adelaide stammered quickly, turning towards the bed. "I wondered if perhaps you had more dreams and needed your sleeping draught?"
"No, no dreams," the other young woman lied with a laugh. "Adelaide, you have the look of mischief upon your face," the handmaiden ducked her eyes away, "and I am curious to know what has happened."
As if checking to be sure no one else was around, Adelaide quickly looked about the room before seating herself on the edge of the bed. "Oh my Lady, please don't breathe a word of this to anyone. The king is so ill, I feel it's wrong for me to be so happy."
"You have my confidence," Morgana assured her.
"Well," Adelaide grinned and in the dim light, Morgana could faintly make out that her handmaiden was blushing, "I believe I may fancy someone." Holding the candle securely in one hand, she leaned in closer. "We were talking, and he kissed me, but I think I kissed him as well," she beamed breathlessly with a nervous giggle. It was all so unlike her; Morgana couldn't help but smile at her servant's excitement.
"Well come on," the raven haired lady prodded impatiently, "tell me his name!"
Adelaide laughed as though she were surprised at herself. "You will laugh. Of all the boys in the kingdom, I fell for the possibly the biggest, bumbling clod of all. Yet... he's likely the sweetest soul in all the kingdom."
"That's very sweet," Morgana smirked, "but what's his name?"
Adelaide shook her head in amusement. "Merlin! Can you believe it?"
For a split second, Morgana's smile dropped.
The fire twirled around at his will, dancing into the shapes he desired. Funny how something he so loved to do wasn't bringing him any joy, or even the slightest feelings of amusement. So much plagued the warlock's mind.
The dragon that had spawned from the flames began to morph into the face of a young woman.
Merlin sighed.
"Arthur," the king's weary voice broke the silence of the room. His son looked up.
"Father, you need to rest," Arthur tried to keep an air of strength, but his voice wavered.
"I have been resting," Uther responded with a tinge of annoyance in his voice, something the prince was glad to hear. At least his father still had his spirit. "Soon I will be doing nothing but resting for the remainder of time."
Arthur didn't want to hear this. "Father..."
"You know it as well as I, Arthur," Uther told him sternly. "It's time for both of us to accept it."
Arthur bowed his head and said nothing. The fading king couldn't help but smile sadly. As different as he and his son were, they were also so alike. Arthur had his mother's golden hair and loving heart, but he had his father's stubborn pride. The king was proud; so proud.
"When I go," Uther began, and his son kept his eyes down. This wasn't what he wanted to hear, but it was something the young man needed to hear. "Other kingdoms are likely to attack. You are young, Arthur. They will see Camelot as an easy target."
"They are wrong!" Arthur declared.
"I know that, but they do not. You must be prepared," Uther warned grimly.
"I will not let Camelot fall," the prince swore. "I will give my life before that happens."
The only way Camelot would fall were if Arthur died, Uther was sure of it.
Merlin knocked on the wood of the door as he entered the room. His friend was leaning against the windowsill, staring blankly out through the glass. The servant knocked again, a little harder this time.
"I heard you the first time," Arthur told him, not looking away.
Well, nice of him to let on to that fact. "I've brought your breakfast, sire," Merlin told him, holding the silver tray firmly in his hands.
Waving aimlessly to the table, the prince kept his gaze. "Just put it over there. I'm not very hungry at the moment."
Usually, Merlin would argue, but he knew the feeling of thinking you were losing the only parent you had known. It was terrible, more than enough to remove one's appetite. Setting the tray down gently, he debated whether or not he should leave the room.
"Merlin," Arthur started, and the servant looked up. Well, this made his decision for him. "I saw you last night."
Merlin could have sworn his heart stopped beating within his chest. "What do you mean, sire?"
Arthur crossed his arms and turned to his servant. "I'm not in the mood for games, Merlin. How long has this been going on?"
The warlock's stomach sank. He should have been careful, far more careful. Hadn't he learned his lesson yet? "I... well... a bit, I suppose."
"You should have told me sooner," the blonde young man said sternly, and it was hard for Merlin to fully read into the tone. Disappointment? Anger?
"I... I didn't mean for you to find out that way," Merlin stammered, turning his eyes down. After the years of keeping his magic secret, and Arthur finds out this way. He would have found out eventually, but the dark haired young man had planned on telling his friend.
"I would not have pictured you two together," Arthur stated, and Merlin looked up. Wait, this wasn't about the magic?
"I... me either," Merlin laughed, mostly from relief.
"Do you fancy her greatly, Merlin?" Arthur looked overcome by a strange blankness, one his friend guessed was a result of all the emotions flooding him. Yet, his eyes held a strange pain mingled with curiosity.
The wizard contemplated this. How did he feel about Adelaide? "Yes," he finally answered. "I suppose I do."
"I won't stop you," The prince's voice had gone a bit softer, "but see that it doesn't interfere with your duties," he advised.
Merlin nodded, the relief still flooding through his veins. "Yes, sire." The prince nodded, content with this answer.
As his heart was racing wildly from the near revelation, Merlin took the chance to slip quietly out the door. There were other things he could do around the castle, and Arthur looked as though he needed some time to himself. Outside the door, Merlin gasped and laughed weakly. He would have to be more careful until it was time to reveal himself.
He had a sinking feeling that the time was sooner than he wanted.
A/N: Lack of reviews makes Jabey sad. T-T So very sad. Do you all hate this story? D: I am such a feedback junkie. Like the idea of Merlin/Adelaide? Let me know! Hate the idea of Merlin/Adelaide? Let me know! Have a scene suggestion? Let me know! Heck, the pants scene was suggested by a couple friends of mine (granted, the scene didn't end quite how they were expecting). But, I still must thank my loyal readers, even if you are the silent type :D Seeing the amount of reads does brighten my day. Thank you all! :D
