CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER 10
The sun shone through the clouds as they emerged from Charing Cross underground, and the pigeons who refused to be driven out of Trafalgar Square left trails in the air, delighting the tourists who were out in force as always, and irritating the locals.
Merlin heard a grumbling like noise and looked sideways at Gwaine, who blushed. "Sorry. Haven't eaten since breakfast."
"A whole hour ago..."
Gwaine grinned. "Yes, a whole hour ago. All this running around and hiding captured bad guys in forests in the dead of night makes me hungry."
Gwen's laughter floated over his shoulder. "There's a coffee stall over there, they might have muffins"
"You had me at coffee. I'll be back in a tick. Don't have adventures without me"
Gwaine set off at a light jog towards the coffee stall in front of the National Portrait Gallery, setting off more pigeons.
Gwen rubbed her head and he felt his chest tighten. "Are you still sore?"
"What? Oh! No, no I'm not sore. Sorry that must have looked like a reproach! It isn't really. It's the glare more than anything."
He met her eyes and her blush faded.
"It's okay Merlin, we all lose it sometimes. Accidents happen."
His lips curved up slightly and he raised his brows. "Well, I'll try not to have any more accidents."
"Not going to lie, that would be good!"
He laughed and stood a little straighter.
Trafalgar Square spread out peacefully in front of him. He liked London in the mornings. The air always smelled fresher and the nearly empty streets always had an expectant look. It was peaceful. Surely nothing bad would happen here.
"Do you think you should have let Arthur go and speak to Aithusa? That hasn't exactly gone well so far."
"She likes him. That's why she bullies him. It's like I told Arthur, if we're right, and they're going for targets that are symbolic to Londoners, to England, then this is a likely spot, and it's more likely that I'll have a chance at spotting any magic than he will."
"And that's why you split Mordred and Morgana between Tower of London and Westminster?"
"Yeah." He pursed his lips. "It was kinda funny watching Leon trying to decide who he'd rather spend time with, but I'm glad he's with Mordred. That young man needs more looking after than you'd think."
They headed out into the square and he smiled at an old couple sitting side by side on one of the benches. The pigeons crowded around them as if it was a daily ritual and the lion statue above was a god watching over them.
"I do admit, I'm sorry to miss watching Arthur trying to get a straight answer out of Aithusa, that dragon is worse than Kilgharrah for a twisty answer".
His quiet mood was broken by a jarring feeling that seemed to push him off balance. Time slowed and his head dragged around to the opposite side of the square. Magic.
Gwen took his arm. "Merlin? What is it?"
He shook his head once, abruptly. The tug at his senses pulled again. "There". His voice rasped out. "They're coming."
He couldn't tell if the men who stood on the opposite side of the square were the ones they'd fought before. But they dressed the same and the same aura of menace radiated from them. A flash of sunlight as their leader drew a sword nearly hid the fact that this time some of them carried guns. He wasn't the only one to notice. People had seen men like these on their newsfeeds. The screams began, and that same dark miasma that had floated through St Paul's spread, and with it a sense of rage, of hopelessness.
It wouldn't be long before people turned on each other.
He turned to Gwen but stopped as his eye caught on the elderly couple he'd noticed before. The pigeons had fled with the noise and the fear in their eyes was almost painful.
"Quickly Gwen, we have to get everyone we can into the tube station, or at least make sure they're inside. And I mean everyone."
He was already running to help the elderly couple, and when Gwen's voice called out behind him asking why the tube station he threw a look over his shoulder.
"They can lock themselves in. Escape, if the train comes. We need to get them away from this." More men were visible now and they were beginning to attack people at random.
He could hear Gwen shouting to the people around him and saw Gwaine running towards him, coffee and doughnut thrown aside, frown distorting his face. "Gwaine! We'll get everyone we can into the underground! I need to you hold them off."
The knight surfaced in his friend, and Gwaine nodded grimly before turning, his sword drawn from a sheath under his coat.
He could see people running into shops, dragging their roller doors down. But there were some who remained outside, looking around as if for a weapon, faces grim and determined. Londoners didn't like terrorists.
The elderly couple were struggling, she was very frail and her cane slipped out of her shaking grasp. He threw an arm under her shoulder and gave her a bright smile. "Don't worry. Let's just get you in and sat down and we'll get you a nice cuppa. I won't let them harm you. I promise". Her thankful gaze sharpened and she gripped his hand so tightly he had to urge her to keep moving. "You! I recognise you! The eyes, but the rest of you is different."
"Margaret!"
He cast a smile at the clearly worried and embarrassed husband.
"It's okay, I guess lots of people have eyes like mine, but I would remember such a lovely lady."
She laughed. "Ah, but I was only a little girl, and though you were an old man then I would know you anywhere. The sirens sounded and I couldn't find my mother and I was so scared but you picked me up and ran and when we couldn't get in the shelter because they'd closed the doors you told me you wouldn't let the bombs hit me and you didn't. They fell all around us but I was safe. There was a wide space around us. They thought one of the bombs couldn't have gone off but I knew that it was you. No-one believed me though and you were gone. They called me Miracle Margaret."
It came back in a rush of memory. "And you're still a miracle. Don't worry, you'll be safe this time too but I need you to get in the station now."
She patted his arm and went happily with her husband down into the shelter of Charing Cross. A parking attendant shepherded a family down the curving stairs, the child crying in his mother's arms bringing back memories of the blitz and children's mangled bodies.
Gwen came racing up the station stairs. "Merlin! I can't see anyone else, the tube attendants are seeing to everyone and said they'll shut the gates - what do we do now?"
He turned to face the square.
"We fight."
He spared a glance towards the north where Arthur should be meeting Aithusa outside the city. Everything in him was driving him to go to Arthur's side but he knew in his soul that even if the attack was broader than he thought, Aithusa would protect the king. He hoped Morgana was safe.
#
Morgana thrust out her hand and let the power out. The black clad soldiers went flying back. She flicked her hair out of her eyes. Lancelot ducked a swinging blow and his sword met flesh. Elyan was standing in front of a group of people, protecting them against an enemy that would not stop. They would win, she had little doubt, but she could feel an energy she couldn't identify, but didn't like, building up. The people behind Elyan looked edgy and a flash of concern sparked on his face. Was it possible they would turn on him? On each other?
A tug on her senses and the world seemed to turn to molasses. She looked around in bemusement; is this what Merlin sees when he slows time?
The voice from behind her cut through the muffled air like a blade.
"Morgana. Sister."
Her stomach fell.
She turned, her eyes wide to try and keep the tears from falling. Morgause looked much the same as she always had. There was no scar on her face and strength shone out of her.
"Why are you here?" She hated that her voice was barely above a whisper. She cleared her throat. "Why are you doing this?"
A smile spread across her sister's face and she shut her eyes against the emotions it stirred.
"I admit, sister, I had hoped that you would have heeded the message Mordred sent you. I suggested it to him knowing the bond you had always shared."
Morgause reached out and touched her cheek lightly. Her jaw clenched and she jerked her face away. The other woman frowned.
"But it seems you have a newer and stronger bond."
Ice filled her veins. She had hoped that Morgause would not know.
"The warlock. Merlin." the sneer on her face when she said his name had Morgana's palm itching.
"Yes."
Morgause looked at her with eyes that didn't quite shield the hurt. "And you choose him, still? The warlock poisoned you, he killed you, Morgana."
"And I tortured him. Several times. Kicked him off a ledge when he was paralysed by magic and left him to die. I think we're probably even."
The words were flippant, a default defence, but as they left her lips she realised she meant it. The hurt of his betrayal still stung, but she could live with it. She could forgive it. The knowledge gave her strength.
Her sister tossed her hair back and smiled, but she could see the tension in her jaw.
"And the Pendragon? You know he can't win this. Would you side with him simply to be there to watch him die?"
"Win what? What is it that you want?"
Morgause stilled for a moment. Her arms went out and she waved at those around them. The world was still moving but in such slow motion it hurt to watch.
"I want a new world, Morgana."
"Albion. Arthur is destined to bring it back, Morgause, to bring the magic back. Why do you want to stop him if you want Albion also?"
The look in the other woman's face was difficult to read.
"Because he won't do what's necessary to make it happen."
A frown drew her brows down and she shifted back as Morgause moved closer, eyes boring into hers.
"A new world cannot be reborn while this one, this broken, damaged, weakened one, lives. To truly bring about Albion we must destroy this world. You've seen it yourself, the people are divided, they turn on each other.'
"Because of you, because of what you've done"
She gritted her teeth at Morgause's sadly shaking head. "No, sister, you know that isn't true. They were divided before I did anything.'
Images shot into her mind; deportations, hate crimes, people crossing the road to avoid others who didn't look like them. Her heart seemed to sink into the ground. It was true. Division had not been created, it had simply been allowed to grow. To fester and boil over.
Slowly a smile grew and her head lifted. "Arthur has changed that. He has brought unity."
A quick shake of the head and Morgause frowned. "It is not weakness that will allow the new world to grow. You understand strength, sister, you understand the need for a new world. One with no poverty, no dissension, and where magic is free."
"And one where Arthur is king?" She smiled into the silence. "No, I didn't think so. Is it a democracy then that you seek? Or rather your own head under the crown?"
"Only those who truly understand power can wield it well!"
She sighed. "You are wrong, Morgause. You would build a new world, but it would be one born of hatred and fear. That is no world I wish to be a part of."
Her sister's eyes closed. "Then you have made your decision. But, Morgana, if you survive this, if you change your mind, I will wait for your call. A raven will find me, even if your knights cannot."
A swirl of wind and the world came rushing back.
Morgause was gone.
She blinked away tears and sent a bolt of power at the nearest soldier. She missed and a section of the Tower wall crumbled. People were screaming, fighting each other to get away, and she clenched her fist. How was she supposed to stop this? A soldier ran towards her and she bent down to pick up a sword from the man at her feet. There were too many civilians in the way now. What if it had been a person and not the wall she hit when her aim went awry?
She swung the sword a couple of times, muscle memory kicking in just in time for her to block his swing. And then Arthur was there, at her back. They fought off the soldiers together; a sudden memory filed her head, of the attack at Ealdor, and she fought with renewed vigour.
With Arthur's arrival, it felt like the mood shifted. People began to fight their enemy together.
At the end, when all the soldiers had been defeated, she worked side by side with Arthur to tend to the wounded and comfort the scared. As he gripped her shoulder in passing, a sense of rightness passed through her. She had made her choice. And it was the right one.
#
The field was dark and Aithusa's wings caught the moonlight as she glided down towards them. Morgana reached forward and Merlin saw her face glow with happiness in her friend. The dragon's arrival cut the tension that had been building, or at least pushed it into a different direction.
Merlin bowed his head before addressing the dragon. "Aithusa, were you able to find any trace of her?"
"I am sorry, Merlin, but she is yet concealed from my eyes. I found a house from which evil sprang, but it was more of those undead monstrosities and I sent them on their way to hell. Whether she had ever been there I cannot tell, but the house will bother you no more. Morgause is clever, she will have hidden herself well."
Arthur pulled his coat closer around him. "Maybe the knights will have better luck. They've been trying to track her down using something called security cameras. Thank you anyway, Aithusa. And thanks again for getting me back to London in time to help Morgana."
His love quirked her lips. "See I thought it was you who needed help."
Arthur smiled back. "We always did fight well together."
He smiled at the two people who meant more to him than life. At least they would have each other if he was no longer there. Pushing that thought away, he hoisted the bag onto his back. "We best be off."
His king nodded but didn't move.
"Arthur? You ok?"
Arthur bent his head, arms crossed over his chest. His voice, when he spoke, was heavy. "I always wondered what I had done. What it was that had made you hate me so much."
Morgana's mouth twisted and he felt his heart drop. He remembered Arthur's face when he realised Morgana had betrayed them, the way he couldn't eat for days. He'd never understood it either.
Morgana took a step towards Arthur and then stopped. "I don't know, Arthur. That's one thing I can't seem to remember."
Aithusa's great head came down slowly in the middle of them, making them step back.
"But she did not, Arthur"
"What do you mean? And, for the love of heaven, no riddles please."
He smiled brightly at the dragon and tried to get his king's attention "Arthur…"
"No, really Merlin, I am so over riddles"
Aithusa blinked slowly. "Very well. This is perhaps too important for riddles. And it's also very simple; Morgana did not hate you."
He was aware of Morgana by his side. Without seeming to notice she had stepped closer to him. He reached out tentatively and put an arm around her shoulders, feeling the tension she tried to hide as she contradicted the dragon "but I did. I remember screaming that I wanted him dead."
"And yet you say you do not remember why you hated him?"
He felt her tense under his arm. "No. No I don't remember that."
The dragon's voice was gentle. "What do you remember Morgana?"
She laughed, and it sounded broken. His arm tightened around her.
"Truly? I only remember why I admired him. He was so much of a better man than Uther ever was. I did hate Uther, I nearly killed him once, before..."
She stopped abruptly but Merlin knew what she was leaving out. Before he had poisoned her to stop Morgause's curse from destroying Camelot. His arm felt wooden and he nearly stepped away before he moved closer and held her shoulders tighter.
She leaned into him slightly and kept talking. "But even then, I couldn't go through with it, I let Uther live. Morgause was furious." She shook her head as if she was trying to shake off water. "It's like when I bring those memories into my head I feel certain that that was what I felt and thought, but now I can't truly remember anything except caring for Arthur. I thought he was an idiot at times. I still do. But I never wanted to hurt him and I certainly never wanted to hurt Gwen."
The dragon inclined her great head. "I believe Morgause knew that - it was the flaw in her plan. She couldn't persuade you that Arthur was every bit as much your enemy as Uther was, just as you later couldn't persuade Gwen that those at Camelot wished her ill."
Merlin let out a sigh. It was all so clear now. "Morgause used the mandrake root didn't she, Aithusa?"
The dragon nodded. "That is what I have always suspected. All I know is that when I was a recent hatchling I found myself drawn to the lady pendragon. She was hurt and not just in body but in her mind. I tried my best but as I was only small and Kilgharrah could never get over his distrust of her, I could only heal her body. I thought I was beginning to help her mind but then we spent three years in that oubliette and neither of us was truly ourselves when we came out of that."
His heart pounded even as stone filled his gut at the thought of the horrors they must have endured in the darkness. If this was true, it explained so much.
"Morgana, the dreams you have now, the feelings you have now, they are your own, not those of the half shade created by the mandrake's madness. That's why you don't see yourself celebrating in your dreams when you kill Arthur." He didn't want to say the next bit but he owed it to her. "And that's why your deaths at my hands replay themselves."
She looked into his face and her whispered voice broke his heart.
"I know now why you did it, and I have forgiven you, but when you poisoned me, turned against me, that was the biggest betrayal because of all people you were the one I thought I could trust completely."
He couldn't meet her eyes but, as he looked away from her face, his glance caught on her cardigan. She still wore the flower he'd given her when she left, tucked carefully behind a brooch. He reached out a finger and touched the petals gently.
Arthur's voice caught his attention and he met Morgana's eyes and tried to smile.
"Aithusa, you said you were drawn to the Pendragon. What do you mean?"
"Exactly that, Arthur. No riddles. I was always drawn to your family, but to Morgana in particular. When I saw her hurt outside the castle I didn't hesitate to heal her. I knew then that she was important."
Merlin frowned as he looked at the dragon. He'd always wondered about that, felt hurt by it too if he was honest. "When you hatched, when I called you forth from your long sleep, Kilgharrah called you a good omen for the Pendragon. He said you boded well for Albion."
Arthur grimaced at him. "Now you're the one with the riddles."
"Sorry. I don't mean to be mysterious, I'm just working things out. Perhaps it was all meant." He turned back to Aithusa "Maybe you were meant to protect Morgana so she could help Arthur."
He turned to Morgana. "What did the prophecy say? The one the Lady gave you."
Her eyes widened. "I think I see where you're going with this. There's a bit about the circle having an end which I took to mean that we could change what had been before. It goes on to say: "The priestess and warlock side by side"
He pointed at her and then his own chest. "Us, clearly"
"'Arthur stands, he might yet fall,'"
"Yeah, that bit's not so good"
"'When courage and strength have magic twinned,'"
He flung his arms out, trying to contain the excitement. "That's the one! That's what I thought. Courage is Arthur, Strength is Gwaine, and maybe all the knights, and magic twinned comes back to us again."
A smile crinkled the corners of her eyes. "And I'm pretty sure I know what the next bit means. "The druid boy no longer in thrall" has to be Mordred, he's left Keliandra's side and therefore is no longer in thrall to Morgause."
Merlin inhaled deeply "Then magic will return until the world's end".
Arthur coughed. "You know, I've never asked before, but why is it so important that magic comes back? I mean, I don't have a problem with it coming back. Not anymore anyway. But I still don't understand why it's so important?"
He smiled. He'd had a long time to think about this. "Balance, Arthur. Magic keeps the world in balance. It's part of the earth, part of us all, and when it is stifled, pushed out, forgotten, then the earth dies a little. It's dying a lot at the moment. But if this prophecy is true then magic will not only return, but it will stay for good. We will truly have done the world a great service." He quirked his eyebrows at the dragon. "and at least this prophecy has a happy ending."
Aithusa blinked slowly at him and he heard her voice in his mind. The ending is not certain to be happy for all, Merlin. You must be careful. I know what you mean to do.
He straightened his shoulders and met the dragon's gaze. Tell them and I will unleash such wrath upon you. You know how it must be, Aithusa, for Albion. For Arthur.
The great head lowered and a wave of sadness hit him with such strength it took him a second to realise it had come from Aithusa. Stepping forward he leaned into her neck, inhaling her scent. We are, both of us, the last of our kind. The thought was so mingled he didn't know if it was his, or the dragon's.
#
The rain on the roof scattered his thoughts. Always it had calmed him, that steady drumming beat and the fresh scent of the droplets lingering on the window, but tonight his mind focused only on Morgause. He knew he could defeat Keliandra. Morgause though, she was on a different level, a priestess of the Old Religion, a skilled warrior. Morgana murmured where she lay nestled into his side on the sofa, her eyes flickering and her pulse increasing. Dreams again. He pressed a kiss into her hair and held her closer. Sleep smoothed her brow again and she quieted. No such luck for him. They would find Keliandra before they found Morgause, he was sure of it. And when they did, would it happen then? What if he threw himself in front of Keliandra's magic for Arthur, only to have Arthur die at the hands of Morgause? That was the problem with visions and prophecies; they never told you the whole story.
There was something he was missing in this whole thing. Something that would make it all make sense. He bit down on his frustration. Thunder sounded in the distance and he found himself counting the beats before the lightning struck far off. This was pointless, sleep was definitely not on the agenda tonight.
Gently extricating himself from under Morgana's he laid her head down carefully on a pillow and stood. He stretched and pulled his t shirt down from where it had ridden up. "Leoht' he murmured and a gentle glow grew over his outstretched hand. Giving the globe a little nudge upwards he watched with a smile as it rose to sit above his head. So many long years of hiding, of not using magic; this was a gift. Padding over to the shelf he pulled out a couple of books, almost at random. It wasn't like he had any idea of what he was looking for. Distraction. He was looking for distraction from the fact that he wanted to kill Morgause for what she had done to Morgana, to Arthur's family, to Camelot. The light hovered a bit lower as if reminding him that death was not what his magic was for.
He sat down on the rickety chair and spread the books out on the table. Page after page he flicked over and the rain slowed to intermittent loud drops. He didn't startle when Morgana laid a hand on his shoulder; he was always conscious of where she was.
"Can't sleep?"
She shook her head. "Bad dreams"
He was afraid to ask but she told him anyway. "Not about the past. At least, not about you. I dreamed of Morgause."
"Dream or vision?"
Her brows were drawn and she bit her lip. "I'm not sure. It could have been either. I didn't even get a good idea of where she was, just of her hate."
Her hand trembled against his shoulder and he reached up a hand to clasp it. "Was it just because of her hatred of Uther that she wanted to destroy Camelot?"
"That's all she told me of. To be honest I was so filled with hate of him myself that's probably all I would have heard."
He looked back down at the book. Gold embellished decorations bordered the now archaic writing. It was unlikely that answers would be found here. The secrets to Morgause's ambition lay locked within her skull.
Morgana's arms came around him from behind and she leaned over, resting her chin on his shoulder. "I am glad I no longer feel such hatred. It used to burn until I felt empty. In its place is such a contentment that I never thought to feel." Her kiss on his cheek made him smile through his fears. "Thank you."
He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her soft fingers. "Never thank me for loving you. It's just a part of me, like breathing. I can't help it."
He turned in the chair and pulled her into his lap. Her eyes were shining and he smiled as he caressed her cheek. "So beautiful. You make every part of me sing with happiness.' He kissed her as she smiled, his hand tightening on her waist as she leaned against him. Her hand crept to the back of his head and his lips went to her jaw. His heart hurt; how could he leave this behind? He kissed her lips again, gently, trying to get his breathing under control.
"You should sleep, Morgana. There's a lot to do tomorrow. Do you want me to make you some cocoa?"
A little smile played on her face and she bit her lip. "Trying to get rid of me already, Merlin?"
"Well", He hoped his own smile hid the pain inside, 'you are very distracting". He couldn't help it. He kissed her again. Her arms were tight around him and he let the moment spread through him like balm to his soul.
She pulled back slowly and then bent her forehead to his. "There's something about you, Merlin, you make me feel safe."
He closed his eyes to keep in the tears that threatened. "Glad I can help."
She leaned back and smiled into his eyes. "And, actually, that cocoa would be really nice. I can't remember the last time anyone made me cocoa"
"Ah well, I make the best cocoa, if I do say so myself. Go back to the sofa, I'll bring it in."
As the milk heated on the stove he stared out the kitchen window into the night, noticing every sound. The owl hooted softly and the soft scrape of the tree above on the roof seemed to scratch along his nerves. A laugh floated through the open window from the flat next door; the knights were clearly awake as well. His thoughts went back to the books on the table. There must be something in there. Something to find a way round it.
Kilgharrah's voice flickered into his memory: "Without you, Arthur will never succeed. Without you, there will be no Albion. None of us can choose our destiny Merlin, and none of us can escape it". He'd taken it at the time to mean that unless he didn't protect Arthur, stay at his side, then Arthur was doomed. At the battle of Camlan he thought he'd failed in his destiny. His hand went to his chin, rubbing absently at his beard. But it was all different now wasn't it? Arthur was the future king and the time of Albion was now. If he thought about his vision then this made perfect sense. Awful sense really but sense nonetheless. Without his sacrifice Arthur would not succeed. Without his sacrifice, there would be no Albion - Arthur would fall to the hands of those who would tear apart this nation to try and build a dictatorship from its ashes. That could not be allowed to happen.
He let his hands take over and he found some solace in the slow preparation of the cocoa. He hadn't been joking - he did make the best cocoa; 400 odd years since cocoa first made its way in the conquistador's ships to Europe had given him plenty of practice.
When he slipped back into the sitting room he saw Morgana, fast asleep on the sofa. He smiled and set the cup next to her. "Wearm" he whispered and with a flash of gold from his eyes he made sure the cocoa would stay warm no matter how long she slept.
With a sigh, he walked back to his books. Morgause might be a priestess of the old religion but she was not invincible. He'd fatally wounded her once before, it could happen again. He just had to find the answer.
His mind flicked back to his vision - it had definitely been Keliandra whose magic would have killed Arthur. He would fight Morgause with all that he had and trust that she would be gone before he sacrificed himself for Arthur. His eyes strayed back to Morgana, smiling in her sleep.
They couldn't know now, but maybe one day they should. He stood, making sure the chair didn't scrape on the floor, and walked through the silent house to his room of memories. He stood under his portrait of Arthur, noting the differences that time and experience had wrought on his memory. Slowly, he opened the book of letters. The pen was old and the nib was worn. He spent some time fixing it while he thought of what he wanted to say. Goodbyes were never easy.