A/N: I'm back, graduated, secured a new apartment, and ready for weekly updates again!
Thanks so much to everyone that reviewed! LadyDunla, Kianix, TN Sarah, sjrtts, chronos the cookie thief, 4mergana, phhsdj, Mike3207, zarifa2013, Narutoske, Guest (Thanks so much! I'm glad I was able to do the characters justice), nochance, Renaissancebooklover108, Sabine8195, Replica Velocity a.k.a. X5 714, peace shadow, Acheron94, Guest (Thanks for the recommendations! I LOVE You wait for rain), and Helenmorgause.
Disclaimer: Hmmm, maybe I should have studied TV/Film or producing at college instead. Merlin is still not mine!
When Arthur opened his eyes, he was met by the steely gaze of Queen Annis.
"It seems like it's your victory yet again, young prince." Annis tilted her head toward Arthur when she realized he was awake. The queen was sitting on a comfortable looking sofa while a young boy was changing the bandage on her left arm.
Arthur looked down at himself to examine his own wounds and was surprised to find he had not a scratch on him. There was some sort of poultice on his shoulder blades which had a cooling sensation.
He then looked at Annis and thought of the men they had both left at the Ridge. "There are no winners today," he somberly responded, looking around to regain his bearings.
They locked eyes, and both rulers seemed to finally understand that the problem with an eye for an eye was that it left everyone blind. They had both been in the wrong at one point or another in how they handled the situation, but it seemed not to matter anymore, not when the fate of their soldiers was unknown.
When the boy finished changing the queen's bandage, he slipped out of the room without a word to the prince. Arthur stood up to follow him, to question him, but when the prince tried to exit through the doorway, he found an invisible barrier preventing him from leaving.
"Don't bother, I've tried," Annis preemptively responded when Arthur sent her a questioning look. "Magic."
Arthur groaned. "Where are we? How long have I been unconscious? What do they want with us?"
"Avalon," Annis responded dryly. "You've been resting for about a day and a half. I suppose she had healers treat your wounds before bringing you here to rest." Annis wondered how to answer Arthur's last question, for she had no idea what their captors wanted with them either. "You should ask your last question to your sister."
Morgana. Now that Annis mentioned it, he vaguely recalled seeing Morgana on the battlefield, swooping in on a frightfully large bird. What had she been doing there? Why did she save him? Or did she have something even more sinister planned? And who was the knight Annis sent to fight him? He unconsciously clenched his fists at the thought of his indestructible opponent. Arthur started to ask Annis, but the downcast look she had made him hold his tongue. He had no doubt she regretted her actions on the battlefield, and he didn't want to incite another fight, not when they were finally starting to see eye to eye. He resolved to ask her about it soon though, for he needed to know why her champion seemed to hate him so much and how he was to kill something that feared no blade.
Arthur supposed he was lucky enough. He was imprisoned, but he was being treated well. He and Annis were not chained, were provided clean clothes and proper meals. To be fair, they weren't even in a jail, rather a large, sparsely decorated room. There were two windows, which weren't barred, but were much too small to climb out of. The room contained four beds with thick blankets and plump pillows that were separated by changing screens, and a small tapestry of a golden chalice. All in all, Arthur was living in comfort, except for the fact that he was unable to leave to room.
He almost would have preferred to be treated poorly, for it didn't seem fair that his men were possibly dying at the Ridge while he was safely healed and away from the fighting. He had been awake for only half an hour before restlessness and agitation started nagging at him.
To make things worse, his captors seemed to be afraid of him. The young girl who brought them meals shirked back every time she handed him his tray, never looking at him or acknowledging him. The tiny strange creatures that magically appeared in the night to tidy up the room would all look up at him with large, frightened eyes, and seemed to disappear into thin air whenever he caught sight of them at work. It was the little things like that which pricked his heart. What had he accomplished as the ruler of Camelot? He let his kingdom be taken over by his traitorous uncle and the vile King Odin. He killed King Caerleon and left his men alone to fight his war. Oh, and young girls were now madly afraid of bringing him lunch. With nothing else to do, he fell into these types of thoughts. He had failed as the prince of Camelot, and that knowledge weighed heavily on him. Arthur wished Morgana would visit him, so he could figure out what was happening. He wished he had news of Camelot, of the Ridge, of Merlin. Instead, Arthur was trapped in his room, trapped in his thoughts of his failure.
The only solace he found was when Gwen was brought to his cell. She had been with the healers longer than Annis and Arthur, not because her wounds were worse, but because her body had given out from overwork, stress, and pressure.
"Guinevere." Arthur was so relieved to see her that he scrambled to his feet to embrace her. He had only just stood before he awkwardly stopped himself from approaching her, unsure of how to act around her.
"Hello, Arthur," Gwen greeted him with a sad smile.
In that moment, it occurred to Arthur how stupid he was to ever push her away. He was still mad about her betrayal, but he couldn't deny that he never stopped loving her. He almost lost her at the Ridge, and now that she was here, in front of him, he wouldn't let her go again. Pushing away the angry thoughts in his brain, Arthur followed his first instinct, and he held out his arm, smiling sincerely at Gwen.
Gwen didn't stop to second guess Arthur's gesture. Too long had she gone without seeing him, hearing him, touching him. She had woken up in such a strange place, without a familiar face to comfort her. Gwen rushed forward to his open arms and closed her eyes, breathing in the smell of his fresh cotton shirt and feeling the warmth of his chest as he wrapped his arms around her.
From over Arthur's shoulder, her eyes met Annis', and if she weren't so happy to be with Arthur again, she would have felt more apologetic towards the queen. But Annis smiled gently at Gwen, as if to say she didn't mind, that she was glad some good was coming out of this mess, before turning her head back to the window.
"You must let him go." Merlin slammed his hand on the table. "If Camelot has any chance of surviving, you must let me bring Arthur to get Excalibur." He was trying to convince the crowd around him to let them travel to the Forest of Ascetir, where Merlin had stored the magic blade.
When they arrived at Avalon, Morgana had insisted that Merlin stay with her, taking him with her to the great hall in the main tower. Annis and Gwen were taken to separate rooms, while Morgana and Alator worked on healing the prince. Arthur's wounds were deep and plenty, but Morgana and Alator had seen much worse. When he was no longer in danger of bleeding out from his injuries, Morgana asked on the druids in the room to finish healing Arthur and apply some poultices. Before Merlin could object, the prince was whisked out of the hall.
"We need to talk." Morgana looked at Merlin wearily, trying to remember why she had let herself get caught up in this.
But before they could have a private conversation, a crowd of people poured in through the door. Word had spread quickly that Morgana had brought back Annis and Arthur, drawing the curiously of all, and Merlin suddenly had a mob of people to convince.
Merlin's declaration was met with sympathetic looks by some but reticent looks from others. The druids had instantly recognized him as Emrys and welcomed him with open arms, bowing deeply and offering their support.
When the Sidhe first heard he was Merlin, the manservant of Arthur, they hissed in anger. "Murderer," they accused, for they had not forgotten the Sidhe elder that had departed to silence Merlin but had never returned. When they heard the druids call him Emrys, their fury doubled. They sneered at the fact that the almighty Emrys served under Prince Pendragon. "Humans," they spat, "More trouble than they're worth." They were beyond livid at the fact that Morgana had permitted the prisoners onto the Isle.
Merlin ignored them. "Don't you see? Arthur's the only hope for Camelot, our only hope for unity. He'll return magic to the kingdom." Merlin couldn't understand why the Sidhe would not see reason but hoped the others would.
"Young warlock, whether or not magic is restored to Camelot is of no importance," the Sidhe Cimmeran stated.
That remark was met by angry dissonance from the druids.
Back and forth they argued, some in favor of helping Arthur, others demanding his execution.
"He should pay for what he has done to our people." One young druid protested. More and more of Avalon's residents had sneaked into the great hall, eager to weigh in on the situation.
"But Emrys believes the prince will usher in a new era for the Old Religion," another protested.
"That may be true, but should he not be accountable for his actions?" One of the dwarves in the room piped up.
"We must give him more time to break away from Uther's influence," a short witch insisted.
"We've been living in fear, chased all over the kingdoms for over two decades. We don't have any more time," a somber half-giant retorted.
"We can't just kill the prince," another voice remarked.
"Why not? The prince of Camelot would make a fine sacrifice," one of the Sidhe cackled, his eyes glinting maliciously.
Merlin sighed, there were too many parties involved and they would never come to a consensus of what to do with Arthur. At this rate he would have to break Arthur out of Avalon and gain yet another group of enemies. He looked at Morgana, silently asking her to step in.
But Morgana also didn't know what to say. She was beginning to understand why Avalon was only inhabited by High Priestesses and Priests originally. There were too many differing opinions now, too many different goals, though they were all followers of the Old Religion.
"We're not going to kill the prince," Morgana's voice sharply pierced the conversation. "He is my guest. He is my brother," she reminded both them and herself. She supposed this was the meaning of family, of friendship, mercy, and doing what was right. It was still a foreign feeling to her, but the look of gratefulness and relief on Merlin's face assured her that her words had helped.
Merlin was impressed by the intensity of her voice, the authority of her statement. He was not alone, as the dialogue quieted once she had spoken.
The others contemplated her words. If nothing else, they viewed Morgana as the human mouthpiece of the Triple Goddess. She was the High Priestess of Avalon and her words carried great weight.
"What do you suggest, Alator?" Morgana turned to her old mentor, who had been surprisingly quiet the entire time. She had no doubt he had some wise proposition to offer. Morgana was powerful, she was smart, but when it came to Arthur and Camelot, she didn't trust herself to make the best decisions.
His eyes twinkled, "My lady, now that you ask, may I suggest…."
In the end, as usual, it was Alator who proposed a compromise that all sides were willing to accept. "You may seek Excalibur, but the prince will remain in Avalon," he concluded his thoughts.
The Sidhe rolled their eyes, mumbling something about how dragons shouldn't be allowed to forge magic swords for humans, while the rest of the group seemed to tentatively accept the decision.
Merlin paused, grateful that Arthur would not be treated as a enemy here, but still concerned for the prince's wellbeing. "What do you want with Arthur? Camelot needs him."
"Camelot may now be at war with Odin, but its war against the Old Religion has not been forgotten," Alator responded carefully, looking around at the community of Avalon.
"What does that mean? Do you still mean to punish Arthur for his father's crimes?" Merlin frowned.
"It is not retribution that is needed, but the promise of change for the future. We are tired of fighting, and I'm sure Prince Arthur is as well. But your prince still makes little effort to understand the Old Religion and its followers. It—
"Perhaps it's because he's too busy executing neighboring kings," Cimmeran suggested unnecessarily, still peeved.
If he wasn't a guest in Avalon, Merlin would have cast the Sidhe away, or at least cast a silencing spell on the nasty little creatures. But he held his tongue and addressed only Alator. "You will guarantee his safety then?"
"I will," Alator promised.
"And when I return with Excalibur you will let us go to Camelot?"
"We will not stop you from returning if that's what you mean," Alator responded sternly. He wasn't keen on the idea of helping Arthur back to Camelot, where the vilest of crimes against the magical community had been committed, at least not until he evaluated the prince himself.
It was not what Merlin wanted to hear, but it was good enough for the time being. All he needed was Arthur to be safe while he retrieved Excalibur. In many ways, it was better that the prince remained in Avalon. Merlin was sure that Tristan would be unable to find Arthur here, and it would take Merlin a fraction of the time to bring back Excalibur alone than if he had to journey with Arthur. What he would do after he had Excalibur, well, Merlin would think about it then.
The Morgana that Merlin knew had been and still was a bleeding heart. It was her greatest attribute and her greatest weakness. Her sympathy and empathy made her a wonderful listener and a wonderful ally, but a fierce and relentless enemy. So he couldn't complain when she quietly stated she would be going with him, but it made him nervous, simply because he wasn't sure how to talk to her. He had said all too much to her already, yet there was still so much he needed to say. But he was eager to get to Excalibur, and it wouldn't hurt to have a high priestess alongside him in case they encountered any obstacles.
It was quickly decided that they would teleport to Excalibur, as the journey on foot would take at least a day if not two.
They brought nothing with them, save for a flask of water each, for the task at hand would not take long. Again, Morgana surreptitiously slipped her hand into Merlin's.
"Well, go ahead then," she looked at him, expecting the sorcerer to cast the teleportation spell. Truthfully, she was rather terrible at teleportation, often ending up miles away from where she meant to go, but she wouldn't admit that to Merlin.
There was also something about Merlin when he was doing magic that entranced Morgana. It was like he was really living when he was casting a spell. She guessed it was because all the emotion and power he hid under his façade as a manservant was bubbling forward, but whatever it was, it was enchanting.
Merlin still puzzled her, partially because she didn't know if Merlin was the boy she knew or Emrys the great. She understood that the mantle of Emrys was something Merlin had to don in order to protect Camelot, and in turn, the mask of Merlin the manservant was something he wore to protect Arthur, but she didn't know which one was the real him. Rather, she didn't know if he could be both Merlin and Emrys.
She wondered if he even knew. She didn't see how the people who loved Merlin could come to accept Emrys. She didn't see how the people who respected Emrys could understand Merlin.
She did want to see the world he saw though— the world he believed could truly accept magic.
They had been transported to the Forest of Ascetir in the time Morgana had been lost in her thoughts. She let go of his hand. "Which way do we go?"
He looked around, unsure of which direction he had stashed Excalibur. "Leoht treo foldweg," Merlin incanted, casting a spell to help guide them to the sword. The trees to their left glowed softly, casting their light on the ground. The trees in that direction soon all lit up and bent inward, illuminating a path and creating a tunnel of trees. Satisfied by his work, he glanced at Morgana. "This way," he pointed, walking towards the glowing path. "Come on, Morgana." Merlin held out his hand, helping her step over a mossy area of the ground.
She was much too old to be dreaming of far-off adventures and great mysteries, but Merlin made her feel like a giddy young girl again. Their contact was no longer an imitation of intimacy, but a sign of their closeness. She took his hand, letting him support her as she followed him through the luminous tree tunnel, into the unknown in their search of the mystical sword.
They walked for but a few minutes when they saw the lighted path end and the trees unfold. "It should be just beyond those trees." Merlin pointed with his other hand.
"Well, let's go then," Morgana responded with a burst of energy. She took the lead, flittering ahead of him and tugging him behind her. She wouldn't lie, she was excited to see Excalibur and she was excited to be on a journey again, away from the stresses and responsibilities.
The two bounded past the thin trees and made their way to a clearing. Morgana skidded to a stop when she saw the sword, glistening in glory, embedded in a large pale stone.
He walked past her, straight up to the sword in the stone and ran his hands along the glistening hilt. Merlin closed his eyes, muttering a quick spell to release the blade. The sword gave off sparks as Merlin pulled it out of the stone, and in a few seconds, Merlin held Excalibur up in all its glory. He turned to Morgana, grinning triumphantly at her.
"It's magnificent," Morgana admired. "May I?" She reached out her hand, wanting to test out the sword.
Merlin didn't hesitate at her request, amused by how excited she was to try Excalibur. He had not forgotten how adept Morgana was with a blade and was sure she would appreciate the workmanship of Excalibur more than he could.
She took the sword from Merlin and swung it lightly through the air. It was light, balanced, and gorgeous. Wondering how strong a blade forged in dragon flame truly was, she struck the stone the sword was previously encased in, and the large rock shattered in half. "Wow," was all she could manage.
As she held the blade up again to admire its geometry, Morgana saw something gleam from the reflection of Excalibur. She barely moved out of the way as an arrow whizzed by her just a second later.
Morgana and Merlin looked toward the direction of the attack.
"Drop it, Morgana," a stern voice commanded from behind a tree. "You're surrounded."
True enough, the shiny tip of an arrow seemed to protrude from behind every other tree around the clearing.
Morgana had never responded well to commands, and she wasn't about to start. "Abife brytengrúnd." The sorceress' eyes glowed dangerously and the ground started to shake, causing a few of her attackers to stumble out from behind the cover of the trees and drop their bows. "Knights," Morgana hissed.
"Gwaine!" Merlin called out, seeing his friend. "Leon, Brennis, Caridoc!" Merlin greeted each knight as they emerged from their hiding places.
"Merlin, step away from her. We'll protect you." Gwaine was glad to see Merlin but was too concerned about the witch to be excited to greet his friend.
The knights walked closer and closer to Morgana and Merlin, some drawing their swords, others still aiming their arrows. Morgana's eyes were angry, and she held Excalibur defensively. She could never escape the constant reminders that she was still at war with Camelot, even though she had abandoned her plans of revenge. "I would not come any closer if I were you," she warned. Morgana was getting slightly worried though, as more and more knights appeared around her.
"It sure seemed like you wanted us to find you. You did leave a trail of lights," Gwaine responded cheekily. "Let Merlin go and tell us where Arthur is and perhaps we'll show mercy."
"Stop it, all of you." Merlin stepped in, placing his hand over Morgana's to make her lower Excalibur. She did not resist, allowing the wizard to take the sword from her. The knights of Camelot did not stop approaching though, weapons still poised to strike. Merlin scowled and stepped in front of Morgana, holding his arms out. "She's helping me, Gwaine. We're all on the same side. Put down your weapons."
"Her? Helping you? She must have you under some sort of enchantment," Gwaine frowned. "Step aside. Once the witch is dead, you'll come back to your senses."
Arthur didn't know how time could pass by so excruciatingly slow. He had been on the Isle for only a little more than two days, but it felt like years had passed by.
From Morgana's orb in her room, Alator could see the prince pacing inside his cell, brows furrowed and back hunched over in stress. It was time to show his guests Avalon, Alator decided.
He was accompanied by a druid, a dwarf, and an air sprite, a fair enough representation of the Isle, he mused. He had invited Cimmeran to join them, but the Sidhe turned away from the Catha in disdain. "Best to keep the prince as far away from us as possible. We wouldn't want to accidently let slip that the prince's servant is a sorcerer," the Sidhe elder answered bitterly. "The Priestess already owes us a great deal for saving him and parting the mists to let him on the Isle."
"Suit yourself." Alator had no need to hear of the Sidhe's complaints.
He met the trio at the bottom of the stairs that led to the captives' room. "Meli, Flint, Finn," he greeted the sprite, dwarf, and druid.
The four made their way up the stairs, knocking on the door as a courtesy before entering.
"Queen Annis, Prince Arthur, Miss Guinevere," Alator stated, "I am Alator of the Catha, last High Priest of the Old Religion, and these are my friends," he gestured to the rest of his group. "Would you care to join me on a walk around the Isle?"
Queen Annis was the first to get up. "Alator of the Catha. I have heard your name before. I will join you on your walk, but will you tell me how my people are?"
"Aye," he affirmed. "They are fine. I can let you see them later today if you'd like."
Arthur did not move from his seat across the room. "Why have we been kept prisoners in this room? Where is Morgana? I must return to my men."
"The Lady Morgana is otherwise occupied at the moment. You are her guests, not her prisoners, at least for the time being," Alator answered tersely.
"If we are guests, then let us leave. I appreciate the help, but she should have never taken me away from my men."
"I am afraid that is not currently an option," Alator answered simply.
"Listen to me. I am the prince of Camelot, and as I recall, Avalon is located within my kingdom. You will let us return to our people before I charge you with treason." He stood up, trying to claim as much power as he could in the situation.
"You listen here, boy. I don't care if you're the king of the Five Kingdoms. You're not going anywhere until we say you can," Flint, the dwarf gruffly responded, his hand on the mace hanging from his belt.
Gwen quietly made her way to Arthur's side. "Perhaps we should just go with them, see what they have to say." She rested her hand gently on Arthur's back.
"Don't." Arthur spun around to face her. "What happened yesterday was a moment's weakness," he whispered.
Gwen flinched.
"What you did to me... Everything I cherished between us, everything we had, it's gone. That'll never change." He walked away from her and toward the door.
"What is it you want us to see?" He would play along for now, but the minute he saw his chance, he would escape from here and find a way back to his knights.
"Follow me." Alator turned and started back down the stairs.
They all followed his lead, and Arthur was surprised when he found the invisible barrier on the door gone. One obstacle down, he thought to himself.
Alator led them out of the tower, and Arthur was surprised at how expansive and well-maintained the island was. He remembered Avalon as a deserted Isle, filled with crumbling gray buildings.
Arthur was intrigued, but a tour of the Isle was not what he needed at the moment. However, Flint's mace continued to remind him that he still had no good opportunity to escape, so the prince tried to pay attention to what Alator was saying.
He conceded that it was a fantastic island. Alator led them to the gardens, pointed out the herbs they grew which were delivered to the mainland. "This is known as the Ram's Horn." Alator pointed to a woody looking plant with umbels of tiny yellow flowers. "Treatment for jaundice, anemia…" Alator trailed off a long list of ailments. "The druids bring these and other herbs to local healers to share.
Their tour continued like this, stopping at each distinct tower and feature of Avalon. They passed by the dwarves' forge. "Almost nothing stronger than a dwarven sword," Flint contributed proudly, confident of his peoples' smithing abilities. And indeed, when the dwarf passed Arthur a shield to examine, the prince was sure he had never seen anything so exquisitely made by the hands of men. They visited the kelpies and merrow by the water, the latter of which brought necklaces of water lilies for the three guests.
Arthur was intrigued but he didn't understand the point. "What is it you want me to see? We've been walking around this isle for over an hour."
"What is it that you see here?" Finn answered his question with a question of his own.
Arthur shook his head, not understanding how to answer that question. "Towers, gardens, creatures, magic…" he trailed off lamely.
"And what do you think?" Finn inquired.
"Of what?"
"Of towers and gardens and creatures and magic of course!" Meli responded enthusiastically.
Arthur sighed. "It's a beautiful island, and I thank you again for healing me. I am sure you all mean well, but magic has been banned for over two decades for a reason. The people of Avalon will meet their end by practicing magic. It's too dangerous."
"Most of us here do not practice magic by choice. We were born with it." Finn frowned. "We are being persecuted for something we cannot change."
Arthur shook his head. He didn't understand how magic worked, how simple words could hold such power. How was he supposed to protect his people with swords and strength against users of spells? How could people be born with this type of power? "Have you tried? Your people are welcome in Camelot. I have lifted the decree. Druids are no longer being hunted."
"We are welcome so long as we hide our magic."
"That is for the safety of my people," Arthur insisted.
"Haven't you learned your lesson from Anhora?" Meli suddenly squeaked angrily.
"Anho—who?" Arthur responded dumbly, not following what the tiny sprite was babbling about.
"Anhora. The keeper of the unicorns! Camelot was lucky only to have its crops destroyed and water turned to sand for but a few days. You proved you were pure of heart then, but you haven't changed Camelot for the better," she accused.
"Wait just a minute. And how do you know about Anhora?" Arthur was now just remembering the Curse of the Unicorn from all those years ago.
"Two words, prince. Air. Sprite," Flint glowered. "They see and hear everything."
Meli flittered in front of Arthur's chest, pressing a hand against his heart. "I think you still have a pure heart. You're headstrong, but all princes seem to be. You were willing to lay down your life for your friends, your people. Can't you try to see that these are your people too?"
Arthur had never thought of it that way. Those who had magic were always considered outsiders, if not enemies. His people didn't have magic. His people needed to be protected from magic. "Magic destroys and corrupts. How can I protect people who willingly practice this evil?"
"I don't know how Emrys puts up with you," Flint scoffed, earning him a swat on the head from Meli. "What great evil has magic ever caused you that warrants two decades of persecution?"
"It's taken my sister, which in turn destroyed my father. Again and again we come under attack by those who use magic." Arthur answered angrily.
"Morgana? Didn't she save your father after Odin sent men to assassinate your family? Isn't she the one who saved your life now from the battlefield now?"
"After she tried to forcibly take Camelot. After she tore the great Veil." Arthur's feelings toward his sister were a jumbled mess.
Flint didn't seem to care. "So she's made a few mistakes. Haven't we all? It all turned out alright now, hasn't it?"
"A few mistakes? She very well could have destroyed Camelot, destroyed the Five Kingdoms even." How could they try and pretend Morgana hadn't committed terribly atrocious acts.
"So what do you want to do? Execute her?"
Arthur shook his head, not knowing what he would do with her when he saw her. "It's not just Morgana. I've faced sorcerers and beasts and undead knights that have threatened the land. There are too many attacks to count."
Flint folded his arms. How could the prince be so blind? He thought to himself. Didn't he ever wonder how the conflict started in the first place? Why Camelot came under attack by those with magic so much more than other kingdoms? The whole damn war began because the prince's father had a personal grudge, and it seemed like Arthur was only following in Uther's footsteps.
"Think about it, prince. Why was there even a dragon chained underneath your castle? Why did we all live in harmony until twenty years ago? Did you ever think why your father, who has been ruling Camelot for over forty years suddenly decided to wage war against the Old Religion?"
"My father did it to protect his people, as I am doing now. He was courageous enough to see what great evil magic can do." Arthur would not let the stocky man question his father's decisions.
"Stop hiding behind the excuse of protecting your people," the dwarf snapped. "Your father waged war on us because your mother died. Because somehow he decided it must have been magic that caused her passing." His face was red with anger.
"Flint…" Finn placed a hand on the shorter man's shoulder.
"Don't talk about my mother and don't lie about my father." Arthur was equally red.
Flint didn't know what to say in response. He, like most others, guessed that the Great Purge had something to do with the former queen's passing. After all, that was when they were all expelled from Camelot, and that is when the questing beast appeared. But no one really knew what exactly had transpired.
"Magic has existed for centuries, existed peacefully with every great kingdom. It was not until the Queen of Camelot died that it suddenly became unacceptable to believe in the Old Religion." Flint had been alive for much longer than Arthur and Uther. He wouldn't let the prince's inexperience become an excuse.
"Say that one more time." Arthur walked menacingly toward the dwarf, who gripped his mace, ready to strike if the prince made any moves to attack him.
"They're not lies. Your father asked a sorceress for help because they were unable to conceive. Uther sought out a magical solution, and when the results weren't what he wanted, he turned against the ones he sought help from."
They all turned, staring at the source of the voice, Queen Annis.
She had been quiet throughout the entire walk, listening and learning patiently. She had heard enough from Prince Arthur though.
"What do you mean, Annis?" Arthur's tone was unsteady.
"A life must be given for a life to be created. Uther wasn't happy with just your mother, he needed a heir. Perhaps he didn't know that Ygraine would be the sacrifice, but I'm sure he didn't think, didn't care about the consequences."
"How do you know this?" The prince wanted to know more, yet was afraid of what she would say. It was too familiar a story, too similar to the one Morgause had spun.
"Your uncle told me." Her voice was soft, but even, as if she wanted to break the truth to the young prince as gently as possible.
"Agravaine?" The thought of that snake made his blood boil. Nothing he said could be trusted.
"No, Tristan."
It felt like the longest journey Morgana had ever taken, though they were to reach Avalon within two days. The knights were tired, frustrated, testosterone-fueled, armed and, despised her. They had only finally lowered their weapons at Merlin's insistence.
"She healed Arthur. We have to go back to him and we can't do that without her," Merlin stood obstinately in Gwaine's face, refusing to let the knight get any closer to Morgana.
"She can't be trusted," Gwaine insisted. "She's still guilty of treason. Have you forgotten she should have been executed by now?"
"Then trust me. Look, Gwaine, Camelot is in the hands of Odin right now. We can't bring anyone to justice when we don't even have a kingdom."
It took another 10 minutes of convincing for the knights to lower their weapons. They didn't believe that Morgana could be selflessly helping them and some weren't convinced that Arthur was even still alive. "I don't like this, Merlin. If she so much as casts another spell, I'll run her through on the spot," Gwaine whispered to his friend. "Once she brings us to Arthur, all bets are off."
Merlin nodded. He supposed this was the most he could expect from the knights given their history with Morgana.
Thankfully, the knights for the most part ignored Morgana except to shoot her wary glances and dirty looks as they walked. They were all glad to see Merlin though, and he laughed and ate and walked with them while she walked ahead alone. She didn't understand why he enjoyed their company, for they made him cook and clean and teased him incessantly. He was much more powerful than them, but he seemed happy pretending he was nothing but a simple servant. But there were times where she wished she could have joined them. Times when Brennis offered the last piece of fresh fruit to Merlin, when Leon stood protectively in front of Merlin when he heard a strange noise, when Gwaine made the messiest bed of leaves and insisted on giving his sleeping roll to Merlin. Merlin had friends who loved him for him, not for his magic. Morgana couldn't help but feel a little jealous. She had Avalon, she had Alator, but she didn't have what Merlin did.
The first night they made camp at the border of Camelot and Essetir, as it was already late afternoon when they had crossed paths in the Forest of Ascetir. Morgana had made it a point to sleep away from the knights, but soon regretted she didn't steal a bedroll first. She leaned herself up against a tree, deciding that she would have to make do. She drifted to sleep quickly enough against the sounds of cicadas softly chirping and the light laughter that came from the knights' camp.
Merlin noticed Morgana slipping away from the group out of the corner of his eye. When twenty minutes had passed and she had not returned, he too slipped off in search of her.
When he saw the sorceress lean against a tree, arms wrapped around herself and legs huddled up against her body, he felt a sudden urge to pick her up in his arms and bring her back to the camp, where there were warm fires and chivalrous knights that in any other situation would happily give up their bedrolls for her to sleep on. Merlin sighed, wishing everything wasn't so complicated. It wasn't fair that she was being isolated when she was only trying to do the right thing now. But he couldn't fault the knights for distrusting her, and yet he couldn't bring himself to leave Morgana alone. No, he had long since resolved he would never let Morgana feel alone again. He, above all, was best placed to help her, and he would make sure she knew that no matter what, he would look out for her. Merlin quickly strode back to camp, picking up the bedroll and covers that Gwaine had insisted he use, and brought them back to where Morgana was. He quietly rolled out the sheets and with a soundless spell, he gently levitated Morgana away from her tree, to the area he had set up. He let out a sigh of relief when Morgana settled on the padding without waking. Merlin adeptly pulled off Morgana's boots, setting them to the side, and drew the covers over her.
He didn't want to leave her though. After all, it wasn't safe for a young lady to sleep alone in the woods, despite the fact that she was a High Priestess. But Merlin wasn't sure if it would be proper for him to sleep next to her. Knowing Morgana, if she woke up to find him next to her, she'd probably hex him. Still, Merlin had no intention of freezing in the cold night or making himself a ridiculous bed of leaves. In the end, the wizard settled on tucking himself next to her, careful not to touch Morgana. He placed a long stick between them, mentally telling himself not to cross that divide. He felt better about their sleeping arrangement after that and soon nodded off.
Leon didn't know what to say the next morning when he saw the two asleep in each other's arms. Morgana's head was tucked beneath Merlin's chin, her hands on his chest. His arms had wrapped themselves around her, his hands resting over her waist and on her back. The feeble barrier of a stick Merlin had procured was broken and lost somewhere underneath Merlin's body. Leon was speechless, not quite sure what to make of the scene before him. He retreated back to the rest of the knights, pondering over the sight he had just witnessed. If anything was clear to him, it was that Morgana had enchanted Merlin. He did not know why she had done it, or how he could break it, but he would save his friend from the witch.
Morgana woke in the early hours of the day, surprised to find herself wrapped in someone's arms. She looked up to see Merlin's sleeping face and blushed deeply. She pushed herself away from him slightly and looked around. When she realized what Merlin had done she felt her heart swell. Even my boots, she thought to herself. She smiled a rare smile, and wondered how he had gotten her settled in without waking her. Too much time as Arthur's servant, she thought with amusement. She rested her hands back on his chest, feeling his heart beat rhythmically. That strong, steady pulse quickly lulled her back to sleep and the last thing she remembered before drifting off was wondering how much Merlin did truly care about her.
A/N: Phew that was a long chapter. Thanks for reading and drop me a review please :)