The new moon came the following week. This time when Guinevere wept, it was not as much as before and she did so in Arthur's arms. He didn't say a word; he just held her, giving her small, soft kisses and stroking her back.
"It's... it's probably a good thing this time," she said with a sniffle, lifting her head. "If I had conceived while under Morgana's enchantment..."
Arthur kissed her softly, gently stopping her words. "Guinevere, we were only together once during your enchantment," he reminded her, his thumbs tenderly sweeping the tears from her cheeks. "We've been together several times since we've returned, however," he added, waggling his brows, intending to coax a smile from her.
His attempt worked, and she smiled, a small giggle also escaping. "Yes, I suppose we have," she allowed. "Still, it's good that there is no chance, no cause for concern over..." she could not bring herself to finish the sentence, too many questions whirring in her brain. Would the enchantment have affected the baby? Would the lifting of the enchantment have harmed him? Would I... would we... would we have not loved the baby as much as he deserved because of the shadow looming over him from possibly being conceived under unfortunate circumstances? The last thought was almost too much to bear, and a few more tears slipped from her eyes.
"Guinevere... I know, I know," Arthur soothed, pulling her into his arms again, obviously plagued by the same fears. "But," he stopped, swallowing hard, "but, we can put those concerns behind us. It didn't happen, and for the first time in three years, we can... we can take comfort in the fact that my seed has not taken hold."
She nodded and lifted her face to his, kissing him. "Yes," she said. "Just this once," she added with a gentle smile.
Guinevere gradually returned to her normal duties, attending Council meetings and audiences in the throne room. Merlin began tutoring Mordred, helping him control and develop his gifts. Occasionally, Arthur sat in and watched these sessions. He did so first out of curiosity. The times after that were out of interest. He found he was fascinated by watching Merlin and Mordred, amazed at what his manservant could do. Mordred continued to flourish as a knight as well, and when he wasn't with Merlin, he was following Leon around like an eager puppy, wishing to learn all he could.
Percival looked in on Mrs. Seward twice a week, more if she asked. He genuinely liked the kind older woman, and when she found out his family had all died at Cenred's hands, they fell into a sort of mother-son relationship, filling a void in both their lives. He also decided to appoint himself the Queen's Bodyguard. When he wasn't fulfilling his knightly duties or assisting Mrs. Seward, he was usually not far from Queen Guinevere, keeping her under his watchful eye.
The days passed as they do; some fast, some slow. The slow days are by far the worst because thoughts and memories creep in to fill the empty spaces. Once, Arthur entered the royal chambers, tired and sweaty from training, to find his wife sitting and staring absently out the window, a book forgotten in her lap.
"Guinevere," he softly called her name, walking towards her. She turned and looked at him, her face sad. "What's wrong, my love?"
"Just... thinking. Remembering," she said.
"Remembering what?" he asked, sitting beside her on the upholstered bench.
She set her book aside. "Elyan. Morgana. Lancelot. How they used to be."
Arthur nodded, realizing he doesn't feel any jealousy over her mention of Lancelot. It's over and done. "Anything else?" he asked, caressing her cheek.
"Three years," she quietly said. She doesn't need to elaborate.
"Three years for which we need to make up." He smiled apologetically.
She quirked her head at him. "I no longer see it that way," she said. "We had the one big problem that needed sorting out. We've had our disagreements and trials; every couple does. But, we cannot forget that we also had some very happy moments, Arthur."
"Not every couple has a husband who was an idiot for three years," Arthur pointed out.
"You are not an idiot, Arthur," she disagreed. "You were protecting yourself. You've been betrayed so many times by those closest to you."
"That is an unacceptable excuse," Arthur said, frowning.
Guinevere took his hands in hers. "Do we need to have this conversation again? Is there something that still troubles you?" she gently asked, searching her husband's face for any lingering doubt. She patiently waited while Arthur pondered her questions.
"No," he affirmed.
Guinevere placed her hand on his cheek and continued. "Good. Even so, it is good for us to remember those years. I think we've learned that pretending something didn't happen does not erase it."
"I think we've learned that it makes it worse, actually," Arthur pointed out.
Guinevere nodded. "We must keep these things in mind so we do not repeat them."
"No more sweeping anything under the rug, my love," he agreed, kissing her.
xXx
Guinevere has been anxious all day. A month has passed since the last new moon, and tonight is the next one.
Tonight is the new moon, and she hasn't bled yet. Every time she has to empty her bladder, she holds her breath, expecting to find the kind of blood that is always there on this day. Always.
She's been like clockwork since her courses started. New moon: blood. Guinevere knows she is fortunate in this. It doesn't happen on an odd phase of the moon, one that is more difficult to pinpoint. It's regular and predictable. When she was still a servant, she would hear some of the other serving girls complaining about how their courses were inconsistent. One unfortunate girl would bleed for weeks and then not at all for the next several months, forcing her to see the midwife regularly for medicinal herbs.
So, come bedtime when there is still no blood, Guinevere doesn't know whether to be hopeful or not. Would it be jumping to conclusions? Dare I hope?
"Guinevere," Arthur says after she emerges from behind the privacy screen, "it's the new moon, Love..." he cautiously starts, watching her pace. He hasn't seen her much today, but in the back of his mind he has been aware all along of this day's significance. "Guinevere," he repeats, approaching her and stopping her fretful pacing with his hands on her shoulders.
"I know," she answers, stepping into his embrace. She rests her head on his chest. "I... there's nothing," she whispers.
"Nothing? Nothing as in... no baby, or nothing as in no blood?" he asks, his heart suddenly pounding.
"No blood," she says, looking up at him. She searches his eyes, hoping to find answers in their blue depths, but he looks just as befuddled as she. "I've been checking almost obsessively..."
"Does that mean...?" he asks, holding his breath.
"I don't know," she answers. "I've never been late before, as you know, but... I'm... I'm frightened, Arthur. I'm afraid to even hope."
He tightens his arms around her, holding her gently but securely, resting his cheek on the top of her head. "I know, Love, I know. We shouldn't jump to conclusions," he says, but doesn't feel the words. Arthur guides her to the bed, where he sits and pulls her onto his lap. "How do you feel?" he asks, trying to approach this logically.
"Physically, the same. Emotionally, I'm a bit scattered," she says. "I mean, I'm tired and my emotions are all over the place, but that could be caused as much by all that has happened as much as being with child." Arthur gives her an incredulous look, wondering how she knows she would be tired and moody if she was with child. "Women talk about these things, Arthur," she explains. "Honestly, though, I don't know how to feel. If I should be hopeful or worried. What if something is wrong, and that's the reason I haven't..."
"Shh, don't say things like that," Arthur gently hushes, kissing her. "All right. Let's think. If... if there is still nothing by the end of the day tomorrow, we'll bring in the midwife to examine you."
"Tomorrow? Should we not wait another day further?" she asks, not wishing to be hasty.
"Guinevere, you'll drive yourself mad by then," Arthur points out. "And, I won't be faring much better," he admits. He kisses her again, then slides her from his lap. "Come. Let's get some sleep."
"I'll try," she says, slipping beneath the covers. Arthur walks around to the other side and joins her, pulling her into his arms. She cuddles against him, grateful for his solid, warm presence. "Thank you, Arthur."
"You're welcome, Guinevere," he answers. "For what am I being thanked, exactly?"
She lightly swats his chest. "For being here with me. For listening. For keeping a calm head while I'm losing mine."
He smiles and kisses her forehead. "Usually, it is you who has the calm head, my love," he points out. "And, trust me, this composed demeanor is all on the outside," he admits. "Inside, I'm a gooey mess over the possibility of a baby."
xXx
"Well?"
Arthur has been fretful all day, hovering over Guinevere like a mother hen. Every time she returns from excusing herself, he asks.
"Arthur, I just needed a handkerchief," she says, trying to remain patient with him while she's on pins and needles herself. She sits at the table and picks at her lunch. "Merlin, does the king have any duties this afternoon?"
"No, my lady," Merlin asks, puzzled at their exchange. He's been with Mordred most of the morning and hasn't seen much of the king or queen until now.
"Well... do something with him this afternoon before I lose my sanity. Please," she says.
"Hang on!" Arthur protests. "You're just as anxious."
"Yes, and your added anxiety isn't helping. What happened to last night's 'composed demeanor'?" she asks.
"It went out the window as soon as I saw your face this morning," he answers, reaching for her hand and kissing it.
"Excuse me," Merlin interrupts, completely befuddled.
"Yes, Merlin," Guinevere answers.
"I feel like I've missed something," he says. "Why do I need to 'do something' with Arthur this afternoon? Why is he making you crazy? Well, I guess I can understand that..." he pauses, smiling. "But, why are both of you so anxious?"
"Merlin," Arthur suddenly says, an idea striking him, "you have magic."
"Yes...?"
"Arthur, I don't know..." Guinevere says, following her husband's train of thought.
"Well, it's worth asking, I think," Arthur presses. "Can you... can you tell anything about Guinevere? Such as, is there anything different about her?" he asks Merlin.
"Can you be more specific, Sire?" Merlin responds, his patience starting to grow thin.
"Yesterday was the new moon," Guinevere quietly says. "There was nothing." She doesn't need to explain further. Merlin is the picture of discretion when it comes to the personal matters of the king and queen, but she knows he is aware of her courses. Having been a handmaiden herself, she is well aware of the level of intimacy to which a personal servant is privy.
"Oh... oh!" Merlin exclaims, his eyes widening. "Oh..."
"Merlin," Arthur says, rolling his eyes.
"Oh, shush, from the looks of things, you've been insufferable all morning, so you have no right to judge me for getting excited," he dismissively waves his hand at his king. He now knows what is being asked of him, and he hurries over towards Guinevere, kneeling beside her. "Um, I have to touch your stomach," he informs his queen.
Guinevere nods, and scoots her chair back to accommodate him. "I assume you've never done this," she says.
"No, I haven't. Never had the need," Merlin says. "So... I can't guarantee I'll be able to discern anything, but... I'm just going to see..." he pauses, thinking a moment. "Yes. I'll just see if I can detect any life within you. Apart from your own, obviously."
"This won't hurt her? Or the baby?" Arthur asks.
"Arthur, this was your idea."
"I would never do anything to hurt Gwen! I told you already!"
Both answers come simultaneously.
"All right, proceed," Arthur nods.
Guinevere smiles and Merlin sighs, leaning over her. His hand hovers over her stomach, almost afraid to touch.
"I trust you, Merlin," she says. Then, she gently takes his hand and places it on her abdomen.
Arthur leans forward, watching. A moment later, he stands and moves to the other side of the queen's chair, kneeling beside her.
Merlin closes his eyes and whispers a short incantation. He opens his eyes on the final word, and they flash gold for a moment.
Neither Guinevere nor Arthur speak, waiting for Merlin. Guinevere holds her breath. Arthur holds her hand.
"I think..." Merlin whispers, his fingers unconsciously flexing, "yes. It's... small. New. Like the bud of a new leaf on a tree..."
"Truly?" Guinevere asks, tears springing to her eyes.
Merlin looks up at her, his eyes equally moist. "I believe so. It's... beautiful, Gwen. I've never experienced anything like it." He looks over at Arthur to see him crying as well, wide-eyed, with a look of wonder on his face.
"I wish I could see... or feel... what it is you just experienced," he says.
"You'll have a lifetime of it, Arthur," Merlin says, lifting his hand from Gwen's abdomen and standing.
Arthur reaches for his wife, hugging her tightly to him, kissing her hair, her forehead, her tear-wet cheeks, and finally, her lips. He wishes he had the words to describe how he is feeling, but in his heart, he knows his Guinevere understands.
"Oh, Arthur..." she whispers. He can feel her slightly trembling in his arms, overcome by positive emotions for a change. "I did it. We did it..."
"Yes, Love," he manages, his voice hoarse. "Yes, we did." He wipes her tears and vaguely becomes aware of Merlin quietly clearing the lunch dishes. He kisses her one more time, then stands, clearing his throat. Merlin hands him a napkin without looking at him. Arthur snatches it in annoyed gratitude and wipes his own tears. Then, he throws it at Merlin's head.
"I'll summon the midwife. Discreetly," Merlin says, casually removing the napkin from his head and placing it on the tray.
"Is it still necessary?" Arthur asks.
"You're going to trust my word alone?" Merlin replies, a knowing smirk on his face. "Honestly, it's the best course of action. I sensed something there, but it's best to call in a professional."
"I agree," Guinevere says. "I would like to see the midwife."
"Of course," Arthur concurs. He stands and begins pacing. "So much to plan..." he starts mumbling. "We'll need to set up a suitable nursery for him... have to start thinking of names... oh, and a nursemaid will need to be found..."
"Arthur, we have plenty of time," Guinevere says, standing and going to him. "Relax, Love."
He keeps rambling. "Oh, dear, a nursemaid... we'll have to make certain she's..." he stops, his face falling. He looks down at his wife. "Morgana."
"I know," she whispers. "I just thought of that, too."
"She will not be pleased," Merlin says, frowning. "This child will be before her in succession to the throne."
xXx
The midwife arrives mid-afternoon, and she summarily dismisses both Merlin and Arthur, declaring, "This is no place for a man, king or not." Merlin leads a sulking Arthur to Gaius' quarters to keep him occupied.
"She can be trusted?" Arthur asks as they walk.
"Yes. She told me she delivered you," Merlin points out.
"I know, that's why I'm asking. I don't know if my father tried to blame her for my mother's death after I was born," he says. "You know how he was."
"All too well," Merlin says. "Uther knew it wasn't the midwife's fault. He knew it was his own. He turned his anger on magic, not Mildred."
"Just making sure. Guinevere's safety is my top priority, especially now," Arthur says.
"I understand, and I made sure she was clear on the need for discretion," Merlin nods. "You should have seen the way Mildred's face lit up when she saw it was me who had come to call on her," he says. "Her eyes were as wide as saucers. She was giddy with excitement."
Arthur chuckles. "Giddy? Surely she's a bit, you know, old to be giddy."
"She was giddy," Merlin insists, opening the door. "And, she's not that old."
"Congratulations, Sire," Gaius greets them. "Merlin told me the news."
"Thank you, Gaius," Arthur answers absently. His mind has been spinning since lunch, a mixture of elation and worry. He's not troubled over Merlin telling Gaius. He trusts Gaius, and since he is the court physician, he needs to be informed so that he can give Guinevere the proper care should anything arise. "Gaius," he starts. A question has been on his mind.
"Yes?" the physician responds, walking over.
"Why now, do you think? I mean... did the... whatever Merlin did at the cauldron... did that..." he waves his hand, struggling to find the right words, "did it fix something to allow Guinevere to conceive where she couldn't before?"
"Did the White Goddess heal her womb to make it receptive to your seed, you mean?" Gaius asks.
Arthur blinks at the old man's bluntness. "Um, yes."
"I do not think it works that way, Sire," Gaius says.
"Hmm," Arthur frowns.
"This troubles you," Gaius observes.
"It troubles me that you cannot say for certain," Arthur says. "It troubles me because if magic was involved in the conception of this child, then there's the very real possibility that... that Guinevere..." he falters a moment, then continues. "Magic was involved with my conception and my mother died because of it," he finishes, his face bleak.
"Arthur, the circumstances are completely different," Gaius points out. Merlin vehemently nods his agreement. "Your father bargained with a witch. You did not." The old man turns to Merlin. "Merlin, what did you ask of the Goddess?"
"I asked her to free Gwen from the enchantment under which Morgana held her captive," Merlin says. "I told her Gwen was good and pure and Morgana's enchantment was an abomination on one such as her. That Gwen was worthy of her aid." He looks at Arthur. "I didn't say anything at all about heirs or babies or... anything of that nature."
"Hmm," Gaius says. "Probably not then. The deities of the Old Religion are very specific. If you make a request, you must be very clear, and if your request is granted, you will receive no more than what you have asked."
"Then, why?" Arthur asks. "Why now?"
"Why does anything happen when it does?" Gaius asks in return. "Unfortunately, this particular issue is one that remains a mystery. Some people claim a woman cannot conceive because she is unworthy or is being punished for past wrongdoings." Arthur makes a derisive snort, and Gaius nods, continuing. "Exactly. I believe there are likely medical reasons that could prevent a woman from being able to bear children, but it is very difficult to diagnose such things."
"That makes more sense," Merlin agrees, tinkering with some vials on a shelf, turning them so all their labels are facing out.
"I also believe the man may be at fault in some cases," Giaus adds. "This is a rather unpopular opinion."
Arthur nods thoughtfully.
"You mean like how the farrier's wife wasn't able to bear him any children, but after he died and she married the cooper, she conceived almost immediately?" Merlin asks.
Arthur looks up sharply, surprised. "Town gossip?"
"Common knowledge," Merlin answers.
"And this is exactly what I mean, Merlin," Gaius nods. "Unless she and Robert never..." he trails, not willing to finish the thought. He shakes his head. "Regardless, it is something I've seen. More often than not, it is a case of a woman bearing a child who looks nothing like her husband but suspiciously like an acquaintance of his..."
"That would be town gossip," Merlin supplies.
"Well, whatever the reason, I am overjoyed the queen is with child," Gaius says, steering the conversation back to its original topic. He lifts a flask to which he's been adding ingredients, inspecting it, swirling it in front of his squinty eyes. "Whether you follow the Old Religion or the New, someone saw fit to grant this blessing to you both."
"Yes," Arthur agrees, smiling wistfully. "I'm worried, Gaius," he admits after a moment.
"I know, Arthur," Gaius answers. "She will be fine. Better than fine. Gwen is strong."
"Stronger than me, most of the time," Arthur says, nodding. "It's just... Morgana's still out there..."
"Yes. But, Merlin is in here," Gaius reminds him, smiling fondly at his ward.
A knock sounds at the door a moment later. Merlin jogs to answer it.
"Is the king here? Ah. Arthur, the queen is asking for you," Gwaine says, stepping inside.
Arthur leaps to his feet and jogs past the confused knight.
xXx
The midwife pronounced Guinevere Definitely With Child and Definitely Very Healthy. She also took the time to fuss over Arthur, recalling him as a tiny babe, and expressed her gratitude at being allowed to bring his child into the world.
She ordered more rest for Guinevere, saying the queen should sleep whenever she felt like she needed it, and the only restriction she set was no fermented beverages. "And no hard labor," she added with a wink.
"How do you feel?" Arthur asks his wife after the midwife has left.
"Fine, Arthur," Guinevere answers, smiling. She's sitting on the bed, propped against the headboard with her feet stretched out in front of her. "How are you?" she asks, inclining her head at him.
"Worried," Arthur declares. He sits on the bed, lifting her feet and setting them in his lap, where he absentmindedly rubs them.
Guinevere nods, understanding her husband's concern. "The longer we can keep this news from Morgana, the safer the baby will be," she says. "Which means no official announcements until I physically cannot hide it anymore."
Arthur looks over at her, struck by her beauty, her kindness, her wisdom. As he always is. She is my heart and my world. I truly do not know what I would do without her. "Guinevere," he says, "about Morgana..."
"Yes?"
"You need to be protected from her," he simply says. "Protected in a way neither Percival nor I can provide."
Guinevere frowns slightly, understanding his meaning. "Is this really necessary?"
"Guinevere," Arthur looks at her, his face a mask of worry, "how can you think it isn't necessary? Nothing is beneath Morgana. She will torture or kill you to kill our baby for no other reason than he is another obstacle to her taking the throne of Camelot. That's the only thing she cares about now. Power. She wants this kingdom, and she will not suffer anything or anybody to stand in her way."
"I understand the danger, but... Arthur, I was just freed from an enchantment that controlled my every move. Surely you can understand why I'm hesitant to bear another enchantment, even if it is to protect me, even if it is from someone I completely trust."
"I cannot hide you for nine months, Love," Arthur says. "Merlin is the only one who can protect you in this specific way. He is our best defense against Morgana. Guinevere," he reaches over and takes her hands in his, "I've almost lost you... at least four times now. Each time, it felt like my heart was being torn from my chest."
Guinevere looks at their joined hands as tears start to fall. "I... May I talk to Merlin about this? I'd like to... to know what is involved."
"Of course," Arthur answers, standing and going to the doors. There are two guards right outside, and Arthur sends one for Merlin. He sees Percival a distance away, standing at attention but somehow looking perfectly relaxed. Arthur nods at the knight and starts to head back into the royal chambers.
"Sire?" Percival's quiet voice stops him.
"Yes?" Arthur asks.
"Is the queen well?"
"Yes, Percival, she's fine," Arthur answers reassuringly.
Percival steps closer and lowers his voice. "May I speak freely?"
"Always," Arthur nods, interested.
"I saw the midwife come and go, Sire."
"You knew her then," Arthur says, slightly surprised the knight knows the identity of the midwife. He does spend a lot of time in town with Guinevere...
"Yes, Sire."
Arthur looks up at him and deliberately touches his index finger to his lips.
"Understood," Percival nods. Then, he smiles and returns to his post, watching the corridors.
"Percival, you can stand down. Guinevere will likely be here most of the day. She will send for you if your services are needed," Arthur says.
Percival nods. "I might look in on Mrs. Seward then, Sire."
"Very good," Arthur says, turning his head in the direction of footsteps that can only belong to Merlin.
"So?" Merlin asks, his face expectant.
"Inside," Arthur says, striding in before his servant.
"Is everything all right?" Merlin asks, concerned that the midwife found an irregularity he was unable to detect.
"Yes, everything's fine. You were right. Guinevere is with child. Mildred says she's very healthy and doesn't foresee any problems."
"Oh, good," Merlin says, following Arthur over to the bed where Guinevere is waiting.
"However, I think you and I can foresee some problems," Arthur says, sitting on the bed again. "Problems involving Morgana. Specifically, protecting Guinevere from Morgana," he pointedly adds.
"Yes," Merlin agrees, his smile falling. "Wait. You want to know if I can... if I can somehow protect her? Magically?"
"No," Arthur says. "I don't want to know if you can. I want you to do it." He glances at his wife. "If Guinevere consents, that is."
"Why would you not... oh, wait. I know why," Merlin says.
"It's not anything against you, Merlin," Guinevere says. "Perhaps if more time had passed since being freed from Morgana's enchantment..."
"I understand." Merlin nods.
"You will be guarded as much as possible using traditional means, of course," Arthur says. "If only for pretense. People will expect you to be protected, especially once the news is announced. We will need to tell my closest knights."
"Of course," Guinevere nods.
"Percival already knows," Arthur says. "He recognized the midwife. I've told him to keep it to himself."
"Gwaine knows something is afoot as well," Merlin says. "After you practically ran out of Gaius' rooms, he tried to ply me for information."
"Naturally," Guinevere says with a smile. "And, it seems your four favorites will be quite the secret-keepers," she adds with a sigh. "But, I guess it's part of the job."
Arthur nods. "Yes, it is. Believe me, Guinevere, keeping secrets is no hardship. Our knights would gladly do this and much more. They have. Do you remember what I told you about rescuing you from the tower?"
Guinevere nods and whispers, "You said you did not want Elyan," she falters, remembering her courageous brother, blinks, then continues, "Percival, Leon, Gwaine, and Merlin to feel obligated and endanger themselves. You told them you would go alone."
"Do you remember what I told you about how they responded?"
Guinevere slowly nods, her eyes meeting Arthur's. "They were coming with because I am their queen and friend."
"And, sister," Merlin adds, his eyes flickering with intensity. "None of us were coming home without you."
"Exactly right," Arthur asserts with a nod.
Guinevere takes a deep breath, bites her lip, and bows her head, heartsick at the thought of anyone putting himself in harm's way on her behalf. "They shouldn't have risked their lives."
Arthur gently places his hands on his wife's arms. "I couldn't stop them, Guinevere! Our knights, our friends, regard looking after you as neither a duty nor an obligation." He tenderly lifts her chin with his finger and notices the struggle in her deep brown eyes. "Love, do you not see? Our knights consider guarding you a privilege. An honor. You are worth this and so much more." Merlin nods in agreement.
Arthur continues, "The worst thing you could do is not allow these fine, noble men to do what they are compelled in their hearts to accomplish – ensuring the safety of someone very dear to them." He says the last several words very softly, yet insistently, willing them to erase his wife's doubts.
"Oh, Arthur," Guinevere responds and leans on her husband's shoulder, allowing his words to wash over her. She sighs, lifts her head, and looks at him, "I will try not to do that."
Arthur smiles, "Good. Thank you." He takes her hands and kisses them. "Now, to the matter at hand. Guinevere, you need protection. But, you require more than just a giant bodyguard, a skilled swordsman, a madman with no regard for his own personal safety, and an eager young knight willing to do anything to prove his worth. Even more than having the Ultimate Killing Machine as a husband."
"Your ability to kill things is probably very low on Gwen's list of reasons why she married you," Merlin points out.
Arthur ignores him and continues. "We have Merlin's abilities on our side. He's willing to do this for you," he pauses, glancing at Merlin, who nods. "And, you know he would never do anything to hurt you or our baby."
"Gwen," Merlin says, pulling a chair over to sit at the side of the bed, "You know I hate to say this, but Arthur's right. You're well aware that in the majority of the disagreements I hear between the two of you, I will always side with you on principle if nothing else." He pauses, smiling impishly at her for a second, ignoring Arthur's glare. "But, in this rare case, I agree with Arthur. You need to be kept safe. That little, innocent life within you needs to be kept safe. Once again, I am the only one who can ensure it in this particular way. Morgana will find out you are with child. This much is known. What we don't know is when. Please, let me protect you from Morgana. I promise you won't even notice the spell is there."
"If you truly, truly do not want Merlin to place his protection over you, I won't force you. I will not have him do it without your consent. But... please, Love. If not for you or for me, for our baby." Arthur gently squeezes her hands.
"Very well," Guinevere whispers her answer, touched by their concern for her. She takes a deep breath and wipes her eyes. "The only thing I wish is for this child to be safe and healthy. I must do everything I can to make sure of that."
"Good thing you have me around then," Merlin says, smiling at her.
"Thank you, Merlin," she says, leaning over to kiss his cheek. He blushes slightly. Then, she sits forward and kisses Arthur, wrapping her arms around him. "Thank you, Arthur," she whispers. She leans back against the headboard again. "All right."
"Can you do this now?" Arthur asks Merlin. He nods, and indicates Arthur should move.
Arthur gets off the bed and stands close by, leaning against the large post at the corner of the bed. "I am fully aware of my hypocrisy, just so you know," he says.
Merlin merely snorts. "You're the one who makes the laws now," he says, standing as well. "Lie flat, please," he tells Guinevere. She complies, and he extends both hands, palms down, over her. He closes his eyes.
Arthur watches, now accustomed to the routine: speaking in a strange tongue, eyes flashing gold, something happening.
This time, the something is a faint golden light extending from Merlin's hands until it surrounds Guinevere's body like a shimmering halo. Merlin says a final word and it disappears, fading inward, into her skin, which continues to glow for a moment longer, then fades completely.
Guinevere has been watching with wide eyes the entire time, and when Merlin finishes, she looks at Arthur.
"How do you feel?" he asks.
"Good," she answers. "It was... warm. Comforting. Like a soft blanket wrapped around me."
"How do we know it worked?" Arthur asks Merlin. "I mean, can you see it? If you touch her hand, can you, you know, feel it?"
"I can see it because I'm the one who placed it on her and I want to be able to see it to make sure it remains," Merlin says. "No one else will notice anything. Not even a magic user. Not Mordred, and he is my pupil. Not even Morgana, a High Priestess."
"Good," Arthur declares. He looks at Guinevere. "Do you still want Merlin to do something with me this afternoon?" he asks, smiling.
"Only if you wish," she answers, reaching for his hand.
"Well, in that—"
"Actually, you have parchments piling up over there," Merlin interrupts and points at the desk. Arthur groans. "Oh, yes, it's so difficult being king, I know," he says, lightly pushing Arthur towards the desk. "Try being a servant once, then you can complain." Guinevere laughs as her husband scowls. "See, Gwen understands," Merlin continues. "Of course, she has been a servant, so she would..."
"Merlin..." Arthur warns.
"Right. Shall I go talk to the knights?" he offers.
"Is that all right with you, Love?" Arthur asks.
"It's fine with me," Guinevere says.
"I'll tell them in Gaius' rooms, away from everyone else," Merlin says, heading for the door.
"Thank you, Merlin," Arthur calls, his head bent over his desk.
"Yes, thank you. For everything," Guinevere echoes, reaching for her needlepoint. I should start making things for the baby, she immediately thinks, then realizes she's the queen and doesn't need to make anything. But, she realizes she wants to, and straight away ideas for little outfits, blankets, and tiny socks start dancing across her brain.
xXx
"Why did you tell me there was no place for magic in Camelot?" Arthur suddenly asks. He is sitting on the steps to the courtyard with Merlin. Guinevere was tired after dinner, and wished to take a bath and retire early. It is a beautiful, warm night, and Arthur's mind is still overactive, so he left her to her solitude, knowing his restlessness would not allow her to fully relax if he remained in their chambers.
Merlin looks at Arthur, surprised he would remember that particular conversation. He ponders his answer carefully. Should I tell him about the prophecy? He's been through so much lately. I hate to burden him further.
"When I went to the Disir to petition for Mordred's life," Arthur continues, misinterpreting Merlin's silence. "I asked you what I should do, and you plainly stated there could be no place for magic in Camelot."
"I remember," Merlin quietly says. "I was pondering my answer."
"So, you do remember saying it," Arthur says.
"Of course," Merlin answers. "And the answer is not simple. I also know things now I did not know then, and I'm trying to be mindful of that before giving you my answer."
"Very well," Arthur nods, staring out at the courtyard, watching the pages light the torches as the sun sets.
A pair of serving girls emerge from the castle and scurry down the steps. They nod as they pass Arthur and Merlin, heading home for the night.
Merlin watches them leave and sees all the people milling around. He whispers a few words and envelops Arthur and himself in an invisible bubble.
"What did you just do?" Arthur asks.
"Gave us some privacy. No one will be able to take note of what we are saying. They'll hear us talking, but none of the words will penetrate," Merlin says.
Arthur stares at him. "I don't know whether to be impressed or worried."
"Both," Merlin advises.
Arthur continues to contemplate the mystery that is his servant, then slowly nods. "So," Arthur begins as he gathers his thoughts, "what are these things you know?"
"There is a prophecy," Merlin says, staring out over the courtyard. "A prophecy about your death."
"I don't want to know," Arthur says, dread stealing over him. Somehow, he understands he's going to hear about it anyway.
"I didn't either," Merlin answers. "It involves Mordred."
"Oh, come now, don't tell me Mordred's going to kill me," Arthur says, looking at Merlin.
Merlin's silence is answer enough.
"Mordred is going to kill me?" His voice is weak, tinged with heartbreak.
"Maybe," Merlin says. "When you asked me the question about magic, it seemed pretty definite. Everything, everything I saw, heard or read seemed to reinforce this."
"Mordred?"
"Arthur, I know it seems impossible," Merlin says. "He's so eager. Has such potential. But... he's fragile. He has difficulty with his feelings."
"I understand that, Merlin. You know I do. It could be the reason why I'm so fond of the boy. We have that in common."
"Yes, but when you have difficulty with your feelings, you don't accidentally set items on fire," Merlin says. "Or blast things fifty feet."
Arthur is shocked. "'Blast things'? 'Set items on fire'? You've seen him do this?
Merlin nods. "Occasionally, he gets frustrated during his lessons. Occasionally, I allow him to vent that frustration. Out in the forest, obviously."
Arthur looks down at his feet. "You said 'maybe' a minute ago."
"The prophecy is not as certain as it once was," Merlin explains. "Mordred has been making good choices. I have been making good choices."
"You?"
"I spoke with Kilgarrah after Mordred and I had our audience with you," he says. "He told me the path is changing. That the prophecy won't come to pass if Mordred stays on the path of light."
"You have to keep him on this path?" Arthur guesses.
"I have to do everything in my power to do so," Merlin says. "Ultimately, the choice is Mordred's. Kilgarrah said Mordred will have one more test he must pass in order to permanently change it. Get rid of it."
"What is the nature of this test?"
"I don't know. And, the scary part is I don't think I'll be involved. It'll be something he must do without my aid."
"Oh," Arthur forlornly says.
"I will do all I can to prepare him for this test, whatever it is, whenever it comes. I promise you that."
"Thank you," Arthur says. "It does explain something though," he adds.
"What, exactly?"
"There were times I would notice a... tension... between the two of you. You did not trust him."
"No, I didn't."
"Because of this prophecy."
"And, one or two other things. Mordred and I have crossed paths a few times, actually."
"Have you?"
"Another time, Arthur," Merlin says with a sigh. "Anyway, this is why I said what I said. It sounds terrible, but I had to let Mordred die in order to save you."
"Mordred didn't die," Arthur points out. "As you well know."
"No, he didn't. The Disir allowed him to live because they knew of the prophecy."
"Wait. So... because I told them I wouldn't embrace the Old Religion, they let Mordred live anyway because they knew he was prophesied to kill me?" Arthur exclaims, aghast. "That's..."
"Horrible. Which is why I need to make sure he is fully prepared for this unknown test. He must know he is loved and accepted here. That this is a safe place for him. That... that magic will be allowed in Camelot one day soon."
"When Morgana is gone," Arthur supplies.
"Morgana," Merlin agrees. "She is the reason why, then and now, magic cannot be allowed back in Camelot. As long as she lives, there is too much risk. It would be extremely easy for her to gather allies, to lure people down her dark path. If you issued a decree tomorrow legalizing the use of magic, Morgana would take full advantage of it. She could build an army. She could infiltrate the castle with spies, spies who may not truly be aware of their actions. This is the other explanation as to why I answered as I did."
Arthur nods. "I see." He watches the clouds for a few quiet minutes, noting the pinks and oranges caused by the setting sun, how the eastern sky is already dark. Eventually, he looks at Merlin curiously. "How often have you done this?"
"Done what?" Merlin asks.
"Sacrificed your own needs for the greater good. In this case, you disregarded your own desires, chose to stay hidden on your already difficult path because you knew the risks were too great. Are yet too great."
"Almost every day since I arrived here," Merlin answers immediately. "I told you, Arthur. My purpose is to see to it that you fulfill your destiny. As far as most people know, my job is to be your servant, but my true duty is to protect you, whatever the cost to me." He snorts a small laugh. "And, if that means polishing armor and picking up your socks, so be it."
Arthur chuckles a little with him. "I've gotten better about the socks. Guinevere has gently shown me the error of my ways in that respect," he admits.
"I have noticed," Merlin chuckles, then turns serious again. "If you think about it, my counseling you to keep magic illegal isn't entirely selfless. If Morgana found out about me, the first thing she would do is try to kill me because she'll know I am protecting you."
Arthur nods again, wondering how many times, without his knowledge, Merlin has put his life on the line for him. It's probably quite a few times over the last ten years or so. "With freedom to use her power, surely she would be more dangerous."
"Yes," Merlin agrees. "For what it's worth, I don't think what the Disir wanted was fair."
"No?" Arthur asks.
"No. They were asking you to completely embrace something about which you know very little. Something you had been taught was evil. You now know that's not entirely true, but... demanding a man completely change his beliefs to save the life of one person?" Merlin exhales. "That's asking quite a bit. It was an unrealistic request, and one for which I don't believe a correct answer existed."
"I hadn't thought about it like that," Arthur says. "Why do you think they did it?"
"I cannot pretend to know the mind of a deity of the Old Religion," Merlin says. "But, they want you to fail. I'm fairly certain of this."
Arthur is resolute. "We will prove them wrong. That's the thing about prophecies, Merlin. They do not account for free will."
Merlin is surprised at Arthur's remarkably astute statement. "Yes," he says. "We've already begun changing it. Its certainty has already weakened."
"It comes down to Mordred and that test," Arthur says. He's putting on a brave face, but Merlin can tell he's really quite troubled.
"Yes. I wish I could give you more reassurance about it," Merlin says.
"I know. Just... look after him."
"I will. He's quite young yet, which is good and bad. He can be guided, molded, but doesn't always understand things."
"He is a decent lad, but, yes, sometimes he is... unsettlingly still. Like a statue, taking everything in. Then, just as quickly, he snaps out of it and is back to being a focused knight."
"He's very smart," Merlin says. "Remarkable memory. The challenge right now is getting him to use his magic without his feelings manipulating it. We're making progress."
"Good," Arthur nods. "He has a lot of potential."
"Yes."
"Thank you for telling me. I know it couldn't have been easy for you," he adds.
"It wasn't. I did not want to, but neither did I want to keep it from you," Merlin says. "I'm sorry to add more heartbreak. Especially now."
Arthur sighs. "It's like setting a broken bone or dislocated joint, I guess. Best to do quickly, all at once."
They sit quietly for a few minutes, each lost in his own thoughts.
"Merlin," Arthur breaks the silence, "do you remember when you referred to yourself as my brother and I denied it?"
"Yes..." Merlin hesitantly answers.
"I was wrong," Arthur says. He companionably claps Merlin on the shoulder, stands, and disappears into the castle.