Just to let you know: I've changed Vivian's name back to Morgause. It made more sense, for all sorts of reasons. I don't think it will hinder your reading, considering how little she's been on stage so far, but I thought I'd tell you anyway. ^^

QUEEN

On a gesture from the Queen, after a few minutes of polite and superficial conversation, the maids retreated out of earshot. Merlin acted as if he had not noticed anything, but he mentally prepared himself to face what was to follow.

- "A lot has changed since you came to Camelot, Sir Merlin," Ygraine said, delicately sipping her tea. "Things that might seem insignificant and yet are not to be neglected – things that only a person who is very familiar with the inner fights for the throne and yet outside of these intrigues would notice."

The young man only smiled.

- "Maybe you noticed? For example... the youngest princess, who only leaves Mercia once every two months to come give her reports, has spent the entire winter in the capital this year, without anyone pressing her to stay."

A bird of prey was hovering over the meadow, sometimes letting out a sharp cry. The impassive Royal Guards, around the patio, were sweating buckets under the sun in their parade armor. In the undergrowth near the river, some maids were giggling while doing laundry.

- "Lately, Arthur seems more confident. He expresses himself better and with wisdom before His Majesty ", continued the Queen in the same calm tone. "The courtiers, who once paid him little attention, are now interested in his opinion and among the new ministers, many are talking about the king's fifth son in the corridors, praising his virtues."

- "His Highness Prince Arthur is indeed worthy of admiration," said the wizard cautiously. "His courage and his endeavors are known beyond our borders."

The Queen had a strange smile, in which there was maternal pride, but also bitterness and sadness.

- "Oh, but his judicious political choices will soon make people talk more about them than of his achievements in the war, if he keeps on this way. Don't you think it's a little odd? Of all my children, the one who has always shown the least interest and finesse in this area is about to become the best at this game of thrones... Would you like some more tea, Sir Merlin? Here, let me pour you some."

And before he could protest that he was not worthy of being served by the queen, she had graciously folded back her sleeve, lifted the teapot and, with unexpected awkwardness, spilled hot water on the wizard's wrist.

He quickly withdrew his hand with a stifled exclamation and Ygraine stopped the handmaids who were rushing towards them, dismissed them and leaned to check that he was unscathed... examining his arms somehow feverishly, as if she was looking for something in particular.

Then she straightened up, looking both puzzled and anxious.

- "Nothing... How is that possible? she muttered. "Not even the slightest thrill of instinctive magic... I was quite certain that only one person could have made my children change so much – brought a smile back on Freyja's face and given Arthur this audacity while keeping him from burning his wings..."

Inwardly, Merlin was tensed like a bow: he had considered the possibility of being found out by the queen, it was not as if he had not been expecting it, but he had really hoped it would not happen, because he knew it would be useless to pretend and he was not sure where this conversation would lead them.

Ygraine raised her chin.

- "I know my son," she suddenly said resolutely. "Others may have thought he had nothing to do with the escaped prisoner's case, but I watched him and I saw how he controlled his anger... and the sadness that has been following his footsteps since then. He knows the truth about what happened in the Northern Mountains, so he must have met this Scarlet Wings' knight one way or another. But he would never have kept quiet unless someone, in the shadows, had convinced him to..."

She lowered her voice.

- "Only one person could ever stop Arthur when he had something in mind. I don't know why you don't look like him, why you do not carry his scars. Maybe you're not him, but you must have come to accomplish his revenge."

Merlin's eyes blazed and his chest heaved, as if he could not suppress his emotion at that moment.

- "It's not about revenge. It's about justice!"

- "Are you going to kill the King?" the Queen panted, twisting her sleeve so hard that a seam was torn.

He stared at her, as if he could not believe what he was hearing, and her face fell.

- "He murdered my son!" she stammered.

For a few moments, there was only a silence so thick that it blocked all sounds of nature and of the encampment – a silence during which Ygraine was no more than an old and bitter woman, in front of a young man who had suffered a thousand deaths and yet remained heroically faithful to his heart.

Then she sat up, ran a tired hand over her face and suddenly the queen was back.

- "Alined is exiled. Morgan has lost the King's favor. These two had made their choice, they played and lost. I do not want to know if your hand had anything to do with that. I know I won't be able to make Arthur waver in his decision. He deserves better than he has gotten so far, anyway, and if he's the one you want to put on the throne, I will not do anything to stop you. Besides, He knows the risk. Mordred thinks only of his books, Morgause doesn't care about anything but her beauty. I suppose they won't get burn in all this, as long as they remain neutral – and I know they will. But Freyja... Freyja's innocent and it's only because she loves you that she is involved in all this... Please... spare her..."

Merlin did not look down, even pierced by that proud gaze, even at the supplicating quiver in the Queen's voice, in spite of herself, when she mentioned her youngest daughter.

- "Even if I wanted to leave her out of it, she'd claim her share of danger. Lady Freyja also chose where she wanted to stand, long ago", he said quietly. "I did not come to destroy, Your Majesty, I came to rebuild Camelot and, even if some rotten branches must be cut, I will not condemn those who'll step up to help me in this task – including those who regret what they did in the past and wish to repair it."

Ygraine bit her lip and a scarlet drop of blood pearled on her powdered-white face.

- "Even the King?"

Merlin did not blink, even though his nails were digging into his palms.

- "Even the King."

He had thought about it for a long time, tossing on his bed while in the claws of fever, struggling not to give into the hatred and suffering that devoured his mind, heart and body. But for the next dynasty to be a reign of peace, built on solid foundations, on respect and righteousness, there could be no rebellion or revenge. In order for Arthur to be able to face his people and to inspire complete trust, Uther Pendragon himself needed to be the one to reopen the investigation, needed to admit his mistake and apologize for the atrocious acts allowed for thirteen years earlier... and, after that, despite everything, to still entrust the throne to his fifth son.

The fan unfolded curtly and Ygraine hid her expression behind the exquisite landscape painted on the silk.

- "I don't understand," she said slowly. "Why spare the king – and lose the reputation of Freyja? I would have given her to you, I would have found a way... I don't have much influence on the King but I could have convinced him, perhaps... You refuse to call what you're doing a revenge, but did you really need to do all this harm to come where you are now?"

Merlin turned very pale.

- "I never wanted to hurt Lady Freyja!" he protested.

The Queen did not reply and he saw that she did not believe him. But before he could insist, she interrupted him with a royal gesture.

- "I won't tell the King about your real motives and identity, rest assured. But whatever you do, I do not want to have any share into it ", she added quietly.

Then her hard look faded off, her body became languid again. She dipped her lips in her cup, lamented that her tea was cold – which was not true – and called back her maids.

- "I had a great time talking with you, Sir Merlin," she said graciously. "His Majesty had advised me to get to know you better, assuring me that you were distinguished and wise, and I see that the King, in his goodness and foresight, was right as always."

Merlin got up and took his leave, bowing respectfully. He felt the Queen's gaze following him as he left the patio and slowly returned to his tent, lost in his thoughts, rewinding their conversation in his mind to try to determine how much he could believe in the words of this woman who had spent forty years in Uther Pendragon's perverted Court.

The hunting party came back in the early afternoon, starving but delighted, and the camp was filled again with cheering and loud voices, chinking pints of ale, with horseback, sword or bow challenges.

Gwaine took advantage of his rare time off to go check on Merlin and the wizard told him what had happened. The general frowned, worried.

- "Don't you fear she will change her mind and denounce you?"

Merlin shook his head.

- "She won't. In any case, I learned at least one thing. She's not our enemy pulling the strings in the shadows. Nor did she write the letter, thirteen years ago. She's still mourning her son and all her hate is directed against the King."

Gwaine rubbed his beard, troubled.

- "Forty years have passed since she was forced into this marriage... why did she not act against him in all this time?" he wondered, lowering his voice. "Nobody comes closer to him than her... and there must some people out there who would have followed her in a coup d'état, had she decided to go against her husband. She's the niece of the previous king, after all..."

The wizard massaged his temples.

- "The cost of her freedom would have been too expensive," he said darkly. "Even her most loyal supporters would not have allowed an heir to the usurper to stay alive and none of the Queen's children would have been spared... and anyway, I'm not sure she would have had the courage to take over the management of the country."

He felt very tired, suddenly. How easy it would have been to give up for him too! To let days and years go by without trying to change anything – just lamenting, yielding to indifference or to bitterness...

- "His Highness Prince Arthur to see you, Sir Merlin", announced the young squire who was guarding the tent.

Merlin straightened up and smiled warmly at the visitor who was entering without waiting, while Gwaine turned his head away, coughing to hide his emotion: how quickly they had disappeared, those gloomy thoughts he had seen dancing in the cobalt eyes of his friend, at the name of the prince...

- "Has the hunt been good, Your Highness?"

Arthur pulled a chair to him and sat down, brushing off some dirt and grass on his red linen sleeve. His blond hair was plastered with sweat on his forehead and he smelled of horse leather.

- "Father brought back the white stag."

- "Good thing Your Highness finally cornered it or we'd still be at it", laughed Gwaine. "The game led us on for miles!"

The prince shrugged, as if it did not matter. But it did, and the wizard hid a small, mocking smile, thinking of the proud old man whom everyone feared and to whom his son had yielded the victory for the sake of respect of the traditions – perhaps also because of his good heart – not even knowing that in the eyes of the Court he had shown the magnanimity of a king.

- "Did you bring books with you by any chance?" asked Arthur who seemed preoccupied, and Merlin was caught off guard by the sudden odd request.

- "Uh... yes, Your Highness. I knew I wouldn't be able to participate in all these violent exercises and since I have promised the good doctor I would be the model of patients while I'll be away... erm... I did bring some books to entertain myself."

- "Good, very good," said the prince, whose face visibly relaxed. "It's wonderful, I'll borrow some from you."

The other two stared at him in amazement and he seemed to realize how strange his request was, coming from someone who spent all his time on a saddle, sparring or racing.

- "Oh. It's not for me. It's for Mordred. He fell during the hunt and, although he was not hurt, the humiliation was enough to ruin his mood."

- "The fourth prince rarely rides," said Gwaine with compassion. "At the hellish speed we were going, it was not easy for him to keep up the pace. He showed a lot of courage and held on for quite a long time. It's just that..."

- "His body is limited," Arthur said with sadness. "I wish Father would see the many other qualities of my brother: his brilliant mind, his great historic knowledge and his acute sense of analysis... but the King does not attach much importance to these things if they are not associated with a martial air, with physical feats."

- "That's why the fourth prince has never been considered a potential heir", Merlin concluded. "It might be a blessing, but it's also a curse. A brilliant mind trapped in a weak body will know more about frustration than limited brains in a strong vessel."

He stayed quiet for a few moments, as if what they had been talking about had reminded him of his sickly condition, then got up, opened a chest and began to search inside.

- "I have here some books which might be of interest to Prince Mordred," he said, getting animated, piling on his arm several books, which one could easily see had been read till the point of being almost worn out. "Perhaps, if Your Highness reckons it'd be good, I could even meet the prince and compare some reading notes with him…"

He straightened up a little too quickly and black dots swarmed before his eyes. He let go of the books and they tumbled to the floor as he held out a wavering hand to cling onto something.

In a jump, Gwaine was beside him. He grabbed the wizard's arm and helped him to a chair.

- "I beg your pardon, Your Highness," Merlin chuckled when his head stopped spinning.

He made a gesture to pick up the books, but the prince was already kneeling, gathering and dusting them.

- "Do not apologize," Arthur said with some abruptness. He got up, handed the books back to the wizard, then cleared his throat. "I will ask my brother if he's willing to make your acquaintance. You'll give him the books yourself."

He paused and a sincere smile showed on his lips.

- "That's a great idea you had and I'd appreciate a lot if you could spend some time with Mordred, indeed. It would certainly lift his spirits. The fourth prince is neglected by all – even more than I was in the past years. I can't visit him as often as I wished and my company isn't very interesting, I can only talk about battles and training squires... so he will be delighted to have a brilliant mind with whom to joust intellectually!"

Then his sapphire orbs clouded, both concerned and stern:

- "But I don't want you to exhaust yourself either. You must watch over your health first of all."

He glanced around.

- "I'll ask people to bring some more braziers. It's too cold in here for you."

Well, the heat inside the tent was hardly bearable and Gwaine was sweating profusely, but Merlin's hands were indeed shaking slightly.

- "In three days, when we have completed all Spring rites, we'll be able to enter the Hunting Lodge on Mount Tintagel. I must ask you to endure a little more time the discomfort we're imposing on you."

- "I thank Your Highness for his solicitude," Merlin mumbled, his eyes lowered.

Arthur's hand swept off the comment. He told them he had to go back to his duties, reminded Gwaine to make sure the wizard was not missing anything, then left the tent.

- "He quite likes you, now," whistled Gwaine happily.

He turned his head towards his friend and his broad smile crumpled down when he saw that the young man's face was even darker than before the prince's visit.

- "It wasn't supposed to happen," muttered the wizard. "He can't... he just accepted Emrys' death, he's just starting to recover from years of mourning... What terrible irony is that?"

Gwaine swallowed hard, refusing to understand the meaning behind these words.

- "Why is it so difficult to accept?" He protested. "Sure, everyone loved Emrys – but you're the only one who hates Merlin! Yes, you're different, you're often sick, you can't do magic... but can't you see? This name you took, that person you've become... you're no ghost of the past, it's no longer a character created solely to restore justice in the country. Merlin is a real person – whom we love too."

He stopped talking and his eyes held the wizard's glare, challenging him to deny the truth of his words.

Merlin finally let out a strangled chortle and he turned his head away, furtively wiping a tear.

- "What would I do without you, Gwaine?" he sighed.

The general massed his neck, embarrassed.

- "You'd have to hire someone to fight with Daegal and keep him from gnawing at chairs."

- "Chairs good for teeth!" exclaimed the young guard's voice, and they realized he had slipped into the tent without their knowledge.

Gwaine rolled his eyes. He gently ruffled Daegal's hair, then took his leave, promising to come back later, when his duties to the King would be over.

Merlin rested for an hour after making sure his young guard had eaten – he himself had no appetite – then he left his tent to attend the various competitions of the afternoon and, as he had expected, Prince Mordred invited him to tea under the shade of the trees near the river.

While Daegal was splashing everywhere, chasing after the silvery fish that spun like arrows beneath the shining surface of the water, the two men chatted and discovered they had so many common subjects of interest that the King's fourth son promptly asked the wizard to share the evening meal with him and kept him near him until late into the night.

Merlin came back to his tent completely exhausted, much to Daegal's chagrin, but he really had enjoyed those moments – forgotten everything else for a few hours. He slept straight to the next morning without nightmares, without needing to sit down to breathe like he usually needed. He did woke up with a slight headache but it quickly dissipated, fortunately, because Mordred soon showed up, a pile of books higher than him on his arms, a big smile on his face.

They spent long hours again discussing magic or history of the country, reciting passages from their favorite books, showing each other their reading notes and laughing together when they agreed on a particular author they both disliked.

Arthur came to see them during the King's nap and spent most of his time listening to them, a little flabbergasted at the ease with which these two had become friends. The expression of genuine joy on the usually pale and sullen face of his brother pleased him and at the same time pained his heart: he wondered if he had ever seen him so enthusiastic, so alive... even in Leon's time...

But if at that time their eldest brother always made the effort to spare some time in his day to go to greet the fourth prince, Arthur couldn't say it had been his habit. He would have much rather go riding or bow-training than burying himself in the dark library, and Emrys, although he did enjoy a big book on rainy days, was always ready to go with him...

That evening, the Full Moon Hunt took place. Beneath the star-studded black vault, the velvet-thick grass at the foot of Mount Tintagel had a silver glow and the river looked like a long ribbon of glass on the edge of the dark woods carved on the mauve horizon like Chinese shadows.

On his way back, Arthur circled the camp as he did every night and saw there was still light in Merlin's tent. Moths were fluttering around a brazier by the door. One of them came foraging too close to the flames and took fire, disappearing in a brief rustling of sparks.

At that moment, Gwaine lifted the flaps at the entrance and stepped out. He stopped, surprised, when he saw the prince. Frowning, he bowed.

- "I was about to go looking for Your Highness," he said grimly. "Come in. You must hear that."

Arthur hurried in, feeling a shiver ran down his spine.

Inside, a man was standing with the wizard. He was wearing a royal guard uniform stained with mud and blood.

- "What's going on?" asked the prince, his hand slipping immediately to his sword.

The man turned around and Arthur, stupefied, realized it was Lancelot.

- "Camelot is sealed and Prince Morgan is marching on us with five thousand soldiers," Merlin said. "It's a rebellion, Your Highness, and we're trapped here."

TBC

Next chapter coming up: LEADER

(And some action, yay!)