So many paths that wind and wind…
Disclaimer: Merlin and its characters belong to the BBC.
A/N: We hope you enjoyed the previous chapter (we did :P), as it was our last big tie up of trying to explain seasons 1 & 2 in our own way. From this chapter onwards, we move into our own original ideas/story, which is kind of awesome!
To those who have not yet reviewed, please do :) You don't need to make an account, and we really would love to hear from you! To our wonderful reviewers, thank you once again! We can't emphasize how much your feedback makes a difference - both to what we write, as well as to our motivation to continue writing. With school starting again, we're far too busy with integrating Merlin and medicine (taking Gaius to the next level)...but don't worry! We are not giving up on this story ever! That being said, just be prepared that chapters will be taking a little longer from now on to come out. They will definitely be worth the wait - that we can promise. Or at least we can TRY to promise :D
To end off, a little poem:
You may notice, in this chapter
There's some seriousness...and perhaps a little laughter.
We're sure you'll enjoy the magician names,
To come up with new ones were part of many games!
Just so you know, Nilrhoem is pronounced "Nil-reem"
It may come in useful, for things are not what they seem.
With that fun fact and a slight clue
We must now leave you!
Chapter 11
"Not all that have fallen are vanquished;
A king may yet be without crown,
A blade that was broken be brandished;
And towers that were strong may fall down.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king."
~ J.R.R. Tolkien
And then the fighting ceased, as soldiers from both sides gathered to watch the battle between their respective leaders commence.
One side waited with tense anticipation, actually hoping for their malicious lord's demise. The other side prayed with baited breath for their noble chief's victory.
The setting sun illuminated the bodies strewn over the battlefield.
Domhnaill the Brave charged forward with all his might towards his opponent, with his gleaming, mighty weapon in hand.
Seeing his options were few, Suileabháin, with spiteful eyes, cast a spell upon the dust beneath them, causing it to swirl around the just Domhnaill.
Blinded by the sand, Domhnaill's sword missed its mark and lodged instead in Suileabháin's black shield.
The soldiers of both parties were aghast for Suileabháin had broken the most sacred covenant that they had agreed upon – there was to be no magic used in battle.
Suileabháin cast aside the shield that had protected his body and rushed at Domhnaill while he still was rubbing his eyes in confusion. The sword swiftly pierced Domhnaill's abdomen and he fell backwards to the ground.
Suileabháin leered over his fallen foe and said, "Brother, you prided yourself on your ability to trust. But look where it has brought you – at my feet! That is the power of my magic, not like your charitable imitation…" He could not complete his sentence as Domnhnaill had reached for a fallen spear and with one final burst of energy, he had driven it into Suileabháin's chest, where it splintered and pierced his heart.
They lay side by side, each taking their last breath…
The two brothers were united in death.
The soldiers of both lords wept with tears of joy that Suileabháin's evil reign had finally ended, but then began to wail with despair for their good chief, Domhnaill, had left no heir. Who would be able to succeed this glorious man?
Suddenly the crowd parted as a youth that no one had ever seen before ventured steadily forward. His face shone with a noble grace and though he exuded confidence, his disposition was full of humility. His eyes bore traces of wisdom and compassion far beyond his years as he strode forward while removing his cloak.
The lad respectfully kissed Domhnaill's forehand and covered his lifeless body carefully with his cloak. He rose to his feet and though no one overtly seemed to be instructing him, he instinctively appeared to know what to do.
The soldiers watched silently, their heavy spirits lifting for no apparent reason.
The young man made for the discarded shield, where Domhnaill's trusted blade still lay embedded. Placing his foot firmly on the shield of evil, he grasped the hilt and in one fluid motion, pulled the sword from the shield.
The last rays of sunlight made the blade grow as if it was ablaze. He held it over his head as the crowd cheered unanimously.
"Hail to the new King!" someone cried and they all took up the chant.
They rushed forward to embrace and kiss the hands of the lord they would now follow to death. He had been a King from the moment they had seen him – this gesture only established that he had a kingdom to rule.
It was not the pulling of a sword from the enemy's shield; it was the pulling of faith from their desperate hearts.
Morgana waited at the entrance for the black-clad magicians to open the heavy doors to the Great Hall. It was still such a change to see her sister's new aides around the castle, busy performing the duties that Uther's knights used to. She made a mental note to ask Morgause what had become of the knights…
She was not surprised to see a crowd of sorcerers surrounding her sister at the end of the Great Hall. Morgana had not woken late but it appeared that Morgause was already well-immersed in the day's affairs.
Gracefully lifting the hem of the dress that her new maidservant, Lorraine, had picked out for her this morning, Morgana made her way towards the throne. Lorraine's manner was not as gentle as Gwen's and Morgana wondered for the thousandth time where her handmaiden…where her friend had disappeared to in the past month.
Morgana's purple dress was one of her finest and yet she felt underdressed compared to her Queen.
Morgause was decked from head to toe in jewellery, and her blond locks, which usually fell carelessly to her shoulders, were now coiled artistically beneath her crown. Her dress was not just impressive…it challenged the observer with a dare in every fall of its fabric: "Trump this" it seemed to say.
Those that stood circling her were cloaked in long, dark robes and the scene around the throne formed an usual picture as they looked somber, while Morgause sparkled in their presence.
Catching sight of Morgana, she interrupted the man who had been speaking and said directly to her younger sister, "My dearest, you look radiant as usual."
Morgana knew it was her cue to compliment her sister. "I pale in comparison to your beauty today. The ruby in your belt is simply breathtaking."
Morgause smiled widely and nodded for the rest of the magicians to disperse.
As Morgause rose from the throne to embrace her, Morgana once again had to remind herself that this was no dream. Though the Pendragon banner fell from the walls as it used to in the old days and the Great Hall was as splendid as ever, she would have never had a conversation with Arthur or Uther about dress patterns…or jewellery.
The lump in her throat had still not gone away. It had appeared the moment Morgause had gently told her that Arthur had died in battle. She remembered clinging to Morgause and sobbing for her most loved family member. She had recounted tales of their childhood together to her sister who had sat attentively and patiently listened for hours. After that day, she had wanted to forget her pain and had confined herself in her chambers for over a week. Her only visitor had been her caring sister, Morgause, who had brought her food, news from the palace…and love. Though it was also Morgause's first week as ruler, she had done more for Morgana than any sister would have.
When they had initially made their plan to end Uther's regime, Morgana had hoped that Morgause could have stayed by Arthur's side and helped to bring magic back to Camelot. But now that Arthur was gone, she supposed that this was the next best alternative…
As she breathed in her sister's scent, she was brought back to reality. She felt Morgause hug her close as she did everyday and remembered that they had to hold onto each other because they only had one another.
Morgause pulled away and lifted Morgana's chin. "How are you feeling today?" she asked fondly.
Looking into Morgause's hazel eyes, Morgana thought about the mother she had never known. Morgause had often told her about Nimueh in their year together and from those stories, she had formed this image in her head of a lady who was both benevolent and victimized. Her mother was someone who had been hurt and abandoned by one whom she had trusted and had been forced to leave Gorlois because of Uther's hate…but somehow through Morgause, Morgana felt connected for the first time in her life to her elusive mother.
The truth was, though she hated Uther's actions, she could no longer bring herself to hate the man. Morgause had forbidden Uther from having a royal funeral and being buried anywhere in the city. And Morgana…she could understand her sister's sentiments. However, she couldn't leave Uther lying nameless and undignified in a ditch somewhere. Though Morgause had not been very pleased, she had allowed Morgana to take Uther's body outside of the capital.
Morgana had watched as Uther's coffin was placed into the ground next to her father's and had thought it was only fitting that both her fathers lay in peace side by side. Crying at his burial had robbed her of the last remnants of hate. Regardless of whether her actions had towards Uther had been right or wrong, she was now ready to move on…
She shook herself and forced her mind to focus on the present. Ever since her Seer abilities had been honed, she had found herself drifting between the past, present and future. "I slept very well last night," she replied. It was fortunate that Gorlois' bracelet that Morgause had forcefully given to Morgana as a birthright was now merely a keepsake, and not a talisman.
Morgause took Morgana's arm and said, "We must go down to the vaults and see how the excavation is progressing. A new batch of magicians came in yesterday - they all seem very enthused about this new reign and are already helping us down there. In fact, they have come from even further inland this time…"
They were walking arm in arm out of the Great Hall and descended down the stairs to the courtyard.
"Did Mordred send them?" enquired Morgana. She had been glad to hear that Mordred was so highly placed in Morgause's ranks and that he had, from all accounts, accepted her sister as easily as he had her. "Have you heard from him at all?" she probed.
"I haven't heard from him directly but many of the new arrivals have spoken to me about him in complete awe. Why, haven't you been in touch with him?"
Morgana looked around the courtyard, which was far less busy than it had been in Uther's reign. All the common folk were nowhere to be seen but here and there she could see a few people in dark robes standing about.
On the surface, everything appeared normal – ordinary even - but on closer examination, scrubs were scrubbing the cobblestones themselves, horses were being saddled without hands, stacks of hay were being unloaded off carts without effort…
She smiled in general appreciation at the overt use of magic as she replied to Morgause. "I have tried to contact Mordred. I was successful in talking to him once, but even though I have been leaving the borders of the city to escape the unknown barrier, I am now unable to reach his mind." Morgana was not too worried though for as long as magicians kept arriving, it meant that Mordred's job was being done with little resistance.
They reached the steps to the vault and both gathered their long trains in one hand as they went down carefully.
"Why can't you ask some of the new magicians who have come about why there are these barriers, and whether they can help you remove them?" Morgana asked.
Morgause shook her head. "I've told you…I haven't seen anything like it before. And it's unlikely that any of these mediocre magicians will be able to help."
Halfway down the stairs, the sisters met a man with shaggy brown hair that Morgana did not recognize. He gave a deep bow and reached forward to kiss Morgause's hands.
Morgause turned to Morgana. "This is Delbondo from the Continent. He just arrived last night." She addressed the young apprentice. "How is the progress down there?"
"They found a heavily guarded unusual-looking crystal and I was sent to inform you of this," he said in a raspy voice, his eyes gazing at Morgana in appreciation.
"Thank you," said Morgause curtly as she took Morgana's hand, leading her further downstairs.
There were mainly men and some women sorting through the Uther's treasure hoard. Morgana was slowly getting used to seeing so many magicians, but it still surprised her to see this many.
"Shouldn't you be involving non-magic people in this project? They too should be a part of this new regime."
Morgause absent-mindedly heard Morgana's concern as she was looking through a pile of luxurious silks that Louis, another magician from the Continent, had brought to her. "All in good time, Morgana. Right now it is most important to gain the loyalty of the nobles in this land." She indicated to the various piles of gold that had been separated from the main treasury. "I am going to offer this gold to the nobles as a token of goodwill." Morgause conveniently failed to mention however that this money was actually going to be used against the nobles to buy their seals of nobility and in essence strip them of their status.
They maneuvered around the various piles and people, who all bowed reverentially. A woman approached bravely and said, "Your highness, there is a crystal which I believe to be extremely powerful lying in the deepest vault. Shall I take you there?"
Morgause nodded impatiently and tugged on Morgana's arm. When they arrived in the small enclosure, she dismissed the lady graciously.
Morgana immediately recognized the shining crystal on the velvet pillow.
Morgause's eyes reflected the crystal's image and a small smirk was playing on her face. "Uther has kept this from our kind for long," she declared.
"This is the crystal that I stole from Uther…what's so special about it?" Morgana asked, seeing Morgause behold the crystal with the same reverence as Alvarr had. She knew it was a powerful object, but wanted to understand more. Morgause always did seem to have all the answers.
"This…crystal…," said Morgause slowly. "It contains the essential spirit that binds us all by the Old Religion. It was stolen by Uther from my Lady Viviane."
"I don't understand…how can it contain the essence of my power?"
Morgause with one slender finger stroked the crystal. "In the olden days, the priestesses would use this to imbibe the power of those they believed to be misusing magic. It was the worst punishment for any magical being because dispossessing one of their magic is like leaving them soulless." Morgause paused and looked directly at Morgana. "Viviane, our aunt, did not agree with these practices and so kept this crystal far away for it could do so much damage. Because it absorbed all the powers of its many victims, it enables the user to possess skills they do not have." Morgause clarified further. "For example, for one who is not a Seer, the crystal can be used See the future…but much more importantly, it amplifies the strength of any spell that you cast by drawing on the powers of the spirits inside."
Morgana felt the pull of the crystal for the second time in her life. "I have held it and felt its power. Can you teach me how to use it?" She reached for the crystal.
Her path was blocked by Morgause's outstretched arm. "No! Only the most powerful sorcerers can wield it," said Morgause with a hint of annoyance. She did not want to admit it, but she had tried once as a child to use the crystal and had failed miserably. She had been more upset at her inability to wield the crystal, than at Viviane's fury upon finding the young Morgause unconscious, holding the damned object.
This was the only object that could threaten her reign now…if someone was able to channel the power of this ancient crystal...
She began to chant complex protection spells as Morgana stood silently by her side. When she opened her eyes, she felt more secure. "No one can now enter this chamber but one of Viviane's blood."
She took Morgana's hand again. "Promise me you will guard this secret with your life."
"I swear it, sister," said Morgana solemnly.
Morgause flashed her an approving grin, and they left the vault, locking the small door behind them.
When they entered the courtyard once more, the sun had appeared from behind the clouds and the castle seemed to warm up instantly.
Morgause beckoned to a man who was standing around, not looking particularly busy. She had made an effort to remember all of their names. "Antoniol," she said in a pleasant tone. "You arrived last week, didn't you? Have you met the Lady Morgana?"
He came closer and rather breathlessly, he responded. "No, my queen. I have not yet had that pleasure."
Antoniol bent his gangly limbs into a bow and raised his eyes to Morgana's blushing face with obvious desire.
Again, Morgause spoke pointedly. "The Lady wishes to know what business you will be overseeing in Camelot."
"I was just going to…ensure that the banners in the Great Hall were changed," he said as he rushed off, glancing back one more time at Morgana.
"I have never seen a man so willing to work," Morgause said jokingly.
Morgana blushed and gave her a friendly shove. "Stop using me to get these new recruits to do your dirty work!"
Morgause laughed. "It is not my fault! They have been deprived for too long, poor things. I do what I can to keep my kingdom running. Come, dine with me sister. It is nearly noon."
As they reached the foot of the stairs leading up to the castle, a young man came bounding down the stairs two at a time. His head was bent. Unaware of where he was going, he consequently nearly trampled over the royal sisters.
He stopped abruptly on the third last step and looked up almost fearfully. "Uhm…" Finally, remembering his manners, he bowed deeply.
Morgause said, "You seem to be in a rush, Nilrhoem." She looked at Morgana. "He arrived yesterday from the southern deserts among a huge party of magicians."
Morgana wasn't surprised by this information because his skin was brown and his hair was dark and curly. His face was rounded, and he had a long nose; his black eyes appeared to be quick and clever. Tall and slim, he sported a scruffy beard, which was most unlike men his age. Though Morgana's green eyes were openly staring at his unique appearance, he seemed to be avoiding her gaze at all costs.
Instead, his eyes fell on Morgause, taking in her extravagant style. "Deepest apologies," he said in a low voice. "I was just going to salvage what was remaining of our common magical history from the library. I heard that Uther had many books locked up or burnt during the Purge." His words were laced with a slight accent, making his pronunciation sound very deliberate.
Morgause flirtatiously raised an eyebrow. "You are an intellectual, I see. Be thorough in your search."
"I will, my lady." He bowed again and without so much as a glance towards Morgana, he headed off purposefully.
Morgause started walking up the steps and Morgana slowly followed, looking back towards Nilrhoem's retreating back, which soon disappeared into a doorway.
"Hurry, Morgana…" called Morgause. "I must say, at least one man prefers me to you," she added, her tone half amused, half serious.
Morgana continued to look back as she replied, "Yes…indeed he does."
Nilrhoem closed the door quickly behind him and rested his back against it in relief. The library was cool and dimly lit and he felt the flush that had risen in his cheeks disappearing. He had been trying to avoid Morgana all morning and there she was…and he felt like kicking himself at his stupidity.
The library was completely deserted, just as he had hoped. His thoughts returned to his purpose. He needed to find the librarian.
His eyes adjusted to the darkened room and he stumbled over a stack of books, waking up the librarian who had been dozing in a corner.
"Who goes there!" yelled Geoffrey, with an unusual hint of anger in his voice. Catching Nilrhoem's unfamiliar appearance and magician robes, Geoffrey stood up from his seat and staggered forward. "Have you come here to destroy my library too? Have your people not done enough?"
Geoffrey was close enough that Nilrhoem could smell the stench of ale on his breath. "No, no…Geoffrey. It's me!"
Geoffrey looked at him as if he had gone mad. "You? You who? I have never seen you before. Now get out of here." Geoffrey picked up a particularly heavy volume as if to threaten the powerful magician.
Nilrhoem with one wave of his hand, muttered a quick spell under his breath and instantly changed his appearance to one Geoffrey would remember.
"Gaius' boy?" Geoffrey exclaimed in surprise, dropping the book on his own feet.
He grimaced in pain and hobbled towards Merlin.
"It's me…Merlin," confirmed the intruder.
Merlin looked and sounded like his usual self, though in different clothes. A faint beard that outlined his pale skin was the only change in his appearance. He reached forward to grasp Geoffrey's hand. "I don't have much time. I need your help…but let me first reassure you. Arthur is alive and Gaius has joined his party. Morgause has wrongly usurped the throne and we must get it back for Arthur."
Geoffrey exhaled in relief and held onto a nearby table tightly for support as he absorbed Merlin's words. "Thank god…these past few weeks have been like hell," he slurred. "I am glad to hear they're safe." He shook his head trying to clear his vision. "How were you able to change your form?"
Merlin didn't need to respond for Geoffrey answered his own question. "You have magic? I thought you were just…a clumsy servant."
Merlin shrugged. Everyone saw him as a bumbling idiot, but it was going to be he who brought back Arthur to his rightful throne. Soon everyone would see his true worth and maybe he would finally get some respect. Even though that seemed like a cheery prospect, it was not what motivated him. Merlin knew he would have continued to serve Arthur as long as he lived…even if he never got any credit for it.
He sat down on a stool and said, "It does not matter that I have magic. It only matters that I am loyal to Arthur. And we must bring him back. The only problem is, I have been in hiding within the city for the past few weeks, and…well, it seems like Morgause has silenced the majority who would have followed Arthur and thus ostracized the non-magical people." Merlin jiggled his foot anxiously as Geoffrey looked at him transfixed.
"Is there a way to bring the Crown Prince to the throne without bloodshed and treason?" Merlin asked, hoping Geoffrey's knowledge would guide him.
Geoffrey shuffled towards a bucket of water that was standing on the table next to him and splashed water on his face. He turned around to face Merlin again and droplets of water were still clinging to his white beard.
Seeming more alert, he said, "Uther proclaimed Morgause Queen in his own words…in front of hundreds of witnesses. There is no way we can now refute that. Though the majority of them support Arthur, they are scared of rebelling against magic. It's not just them - how will you win the allegiance of the magicians in general, when Morgause can give them so much more?" Geoffrey gestured impatiently. "You must have seen how many she has summoned to this city. They will not go quietly and many more are coming."
"But Arthur is the Prince…this is all a lie! And I know, given some time, he will definitely accept magic and treat magicians well..." He wanted to believe his own words. "Has there ever been a situation like this where a legitimate heir needed to be publicly accepted, without war breaking out?" Merlin was desperate. He had spent the last few weeks scouring in the city and from what he had seen, the people had accepted their new ruler far too easily. Though Morgause had outwardly done nothing to harm the common public, just the mere presence of magicians wandering around Camelot had frightened everyone out of their wits.
Merlin now doubted whether these people would fight in the name of the Prince they had once loved dearly. His original plan was to feed off the attitudes in the lower town to dethrone Morgause, but he had realized that he needed to take even more drastic action. Merlin had thought he could easily rile the citizens of Camelot to rebel against Morgause, but she wisely had done nothing to instigate an uprising. And this was the reason why he had thrown caution to the winds and assumed a disguise…to get closer to the court, to gain some insight into Morgause's plans, to truly be one of them.
Geoffrey paused and furrowed his brows in concentration. "There's nothing I can think of…but let us consult some books." He looked slightly happier as he waddled towards the nearest bookshelf and began to pull out musty history books.
Merlin threw his head back in frustration. "Oh…no," he said under his breath, wondering what he had gotten himself into…
… Page after page, line after line, word after word seemed to blur together as Merlin read on and on and on…
Hours later, he threw down another volume of History of the Kings of the Island with no luck. It was near midnight now and the candles that they had been reading with were nearly burnt to the wick.
Geoffrey had long since dozed off and he was now snoring with his face in a book.
Merlin got to his feet to stretch out his limbs. He had taken off his black cloak much earlier; he was still not used to the standard new uniform for the magicians of Morgause's Camelot. He moved to the nearby table and held the sides of the bucket with his hands as he dunked his face into the cold water willingly, hoping it would wake him up.
When he lifted his dripping head, a colourful cover lying on the floor caught his attention. He saw the title: Myths and Tales of Druidic Lore.
"This should be a nice break," he muttered to himself as he wondered how this book had managed to escape Uther's magical purge. He reached for the hardcover book and began to flip through it.
The bumblebee flew from flower to flower searching for the nectar that would transform it into a human…
Merlin flipped the page. This book seemed harmless enough – almost like bedtime stories for children.
…treasure chest lay open on the ground, with sparkling gold coins everywhere. The snake slithered towards the gold, followed by the young witch.
"I can now save my family from torture!" she cried gleefully.
Merlin nearly laughed out loud at the oddity of these stories and situations. He continued to rifle through the book, occasionally pausing when he saw the word dragon, or king. Now and then, he chuckled, for some stories were quite ludicrous while others had a serious undertone. He was nearing the end of the book when a sentence caught his eye.
He had been a King from the moment they had seen him – this gesture only established that he had a kingdom to rule.
Merlin's eyes widened as he began to read from the beginning.
By the time he reached the end, a plan had begun to formulate in his mind.
This was exactly what the people needed. They needed to be reminded of their faith…they needed to learn that they had someone in whom they could implicitly place their trust.
He now had all the pieces of the puzzle. He just needed to fit them together.
Running to Geoffrey, he prodded him awake and pointed to the story. "This. This is our answer."
Geoffrey looked where he was pointing with bleary eyes, not understanding. "How? How will this help?"
Merlin took a deep breath and read out the final sentence. "It was not the pulling of a sword from the enemy's shield; it was the pulling of faith from their desperate hearts."
