The word spread quickly.
All across Camelot, peasants celebrated over the coming coronation of their new queen, the revered Lady Morgana, and over Prince Arthur's unexpected marriage announcement. Tourism exploded in the royal city, as the people came to see their future rulers and merchants of all kind came to peddle expensive wares. The busy throne room became the site of constant activity, as silk banners draped every surface and a glistening arch was being set-up in front of the thrones, for the happy couple to stand under.
(This was the fifth time it had to be assembled; some rapscallion kept setting it on fire.)
Of course, the excited people took little notice of the fact that the couple in question was very much not happy. The prince and his bride maintained an uncomfortable edge as they sat together, making light conversation through forced smiles. Even fewer noticed their loving gazes were saved for the opposite sides of the room, where shifted a young man in a new red tunic, looking uncomfortable in his clothes until the lady's eyes landed on him, making him preen under her attention. The object of the prince's affection received much more worried stares, which was understandable; she looked as if she hadn't slept at all, and her eyes kept darting anxiously at the man beside her and the lady watching him.
But to the people of Camelot, their two most beloved nobles were being wed, and little else mattered. Including what they themselves wanted.
(It also helped to distract them from the king's increasingly erratic behavior… and the terrifying moments where he spoke lovingly to a spot over his shoulder.)
As dawn broke over the hills, the people awoke with jubilance to face the day. The wedding day, here at last. Arthur and Morgana, happily ever after.
In their separate beds, nestled lovingly, achingly in the arms of another, the fiancees awoke with a piercing dread.
Today was the beginning of the rest of their lives.
###
Morgana tried not to wince under Hunith's very Gaiusesque brow as she came sweeping into the physician's chambers where she was staying.
"Do you know what your son's done this time?" She said abruptly, prompting her dear mother-in-law to drop her spoon back into her soup and look at her with good humor.
"Don't tell me he's turned himself green, again."
Morgana bit down a laugh at the reminder of the childhood tale of Merlin the boy cabbage, fighting to return her face in its original disapproving expression. Her husband had clearly inherited his mother's ability to effortlessly break through a cool noble exterior.
She shoved her hand forward for inspection, so that Hunith could clearly see the dazzling sapphire set into a solid gold band around her index finger.
"He's made a wedding band, Hunith!" Morgana exhaled, cringing at how girlish she sounded in her agitation and enthusiasm. "He made it from some of my old jewelry and gave it to me this morning, saying… saying that this could be what I look at when I see Arthur's ring chaining my finger… a reminder of all we have and all we're going to."
Hunith grinned stupidly at the wistful and frankly over-excited tone that had slipped into Morgana's voice towards the end, looking very much like her son at the moment. "My, how romantic. I knew I raised him right."
"Hunith!" Morgana stopped short of stomping her foot. Melodramatically, she plopped down onto the bench across from her. "This isn't funny. People are going to ask where I got such a beautiful ring."
The older woman made a dismissive noise against the spoon she was raising to her lips.
"So? Make something up, dear."
"That's not the poi-" Morgana cut herself off with a heavy sigh. She wasn't angry about the ring. Actually, she was in love with the ring, the symbol of their vows made more solid and extravagant than the old scarf still tied around her wrist. She wasn't even angry that she couldn't say where she got the ring and what it meant to her when prompted; at the very least, the average passerby would notice that it meant a lot to her from the way she kept unconsciously caressing it, even if they didn't understand what that meaning was. No, she was upset because…
"Merlin keeps drawing attention to himself." Morgana admitted finally, wringing her hands worriedly. "It's just little things; making this ring, leaving his clothes out in our chambers, not bothering to hide the way he looks at me… it's like he doesn't even care to keep our relationship secret anymore."
Not that she could blame him. If their positions were reversed she would be doing everything she could to stake her claim on him, and she wouldn't be nearly so subtle about it.
"Yes, my son does seem to have become even more impulsive since he married you." Hunith said impishly, drawing a receptive smile from her. "Thank you for that; I thought he was a handful before… I'm curious, my dear; why do you keep buying him things if you're trying to keep a low profile?"
Morgana felt herself flush with an odd mix of pride and embarrassment. So she had had noticed the new tunics Merlin was easing himself into; she seemed to be one of the few. The same people who had been so taken with him that they didn't even recognize him as Arthur's manservant were now too busy fluttering around she and her foster brother like carrion flies. Arthur had reacted with surprise, followed by laughter and a backhanded compliment that had nearly gotten his head chopped off by her.
Gwen had paled when she saw him and ducked her head, leaving the room as fast as she could. The jealous streak in Morgana hoped she wasn't reigniting old affections in Gwen; she was looking at him lately as if he were a completely different person!
"I-I like buying him things." She admitted under her breath, feeling rather childish under Hunith's amused smile. It almost made her snap at her; because there was nothing wrong with taking pleasure with providing for the one you love, especially when what you provide them makes them look even more attractive. (Alright, maybe that has a lot to do with it…)
"Besides, aren't you the one who hasn't kicked him out of your rooms, yet?" Hunith continued, deftly dropping the subject Morgana was skirting around.
"Our rooms, Hunith. I can't make him leave his home." Morgana said forcefully, bristling despite herself. She cast her gaze down at the table as she continued sadly. "And I can't sleep without him there, either…"
Hunith softened, giving her that strangely admiring glance that she kept throwing her since she had returned to Camelot. Like she was so damn grateful for what she had given Merlin, as if she had saved him and not the other way around, as if she didn't cause him more pain than happiness these days. Morgana almost shook her head; if only Hunith knew who she was, what she had done, what she still wanted to do…
"I don't know what to do, Hunith." She admitted finally, looking back down at the finger where Arthur's ring would soon be.
Her mother-in-law reached out a rough hand to take her own comfortingly, her thumb brushing against her wedding ring. The one Arthur slid onto her finger would be a cancer, feeding off her finger every time she saw it. And Merlin had been right; now, she would bypass that horrid band and see only their ring on her digit. She felt an involuntary shiver at how well her husband knew her, to do something for her as tiny and yet huge as this.
And yet, they still couldn't have a discussion about Uther Pendragon without it devolving into a fight. And she was so tired of fighting with him.
She didn't even know what had triggered it. One second he was on his knees sliding his ring onto her finger, the next they were yelling at each other. Looking back, she had made a comment about how she'd be able to wear it on her ring finger where it belonged if not for Uther. One thing had led to another and…
"Don't you ever get tired of having to hide all the time?"
"Of course I do! But getting rid of Uther won't change anything!"
"Why in God's name would you think that?"
"Oh, what happened to 'Uther's just the head of a monster?' What happened to 'there'll be others to take up his cause?'"
"Even if somebody else tries to become the next Uther, Arthur will have the throne! He makes the decisions, and whatever he is I don't think he's capable of killing the way his father does."
"…So what, you're going to kill Uther to save us? Morgana, taking a life to save a life... it's not right."
"Yes, we both know how much trouble you have with that concept, Merlin."
Morgana swallowed harshly and darted a glance at Merlin's old room, where Gaius lay, still and silent. She hadn't meant to bring him up, had stuttered out apologies when she'd seen Merlin's face slack and his feet carry him out the door. The wedding day had brought both of them to their boiling point, and as usual they had a way of setting each other off.
And yet, a part of her still resented the man she loved, and his stubborn refusal to use his miraculous power over life and death to extinguish their biggest obstacle and save Gaius before his old heart gave out. At least before he had been in denial about his capacity to kill; now he just openly refused to do what he knew he could. It was infuriating.
"I must say, I'm still not entirely clear on why you're going through with this." Hunith's idle voice snapped her out of her reverie.
"S-sorry?" She heard herself say dumbly.
"Marrying another man, Morgana."
"It will keep Merlin and Gwen safe." The lady spewed the familiar justification as easily as if she was telling herself again, eyes hard with determination. "As long as Uther's alive he'll want to protect me from 'threats' like your son, and if we ran he would tear this country apart looking for us. No, this is the best way. He'll be dead soon enough, and we'll all be free."
Hunith opened her mouth to say something and then shut it, simply staring at her with big, worried eyes. There really wasn't much to say to that, was there? She and Arthur had already had long talks about this; about how difficult it would be to pull off, about how much danger they were putting Merlin and Gwen under just because they loved them. If there was one thing Merlin had taught her, it was that love wasn't something you tell someone, it was something you show them. Something you live.
If hurting Merlin like this, if denying his claim on her heart to the public, was the only way to keep him safe, than she would do it without a second thought. There was no other way.
Well, actually…
Morgana stiffened at the thought. The truth was, the best way to love Merlin would be to kill Uther right now, before he made her worst nightmare come true. But she wasn't yet powerful enough to do it herself without arousing suspicion, and Merlin had taught her a cautiousness she had lacked before, so doing something as bold as hiring more assassins was out of the question. Honestly, it was Merlin who stood the best chance of ending Uther's madness and all their problems, but she had seen how choosing to kill Nimueh had eaten him alive; sworn an oath that he would never have to take another life when she could do it for him. For in her mind, he was her lord and she his champion; she would fight his battles, and take on his burdens, before they could break him.
If she was so resigned to it, then why did it all hurt so much?
"Oh, darling…" Hunith was muttering, suddenly beside her and pulling her into a motherly hug, like she hadn't had in years. That was when the tears came; when she realized how much she had grown to appreciate Merlin's wonderful mother, and how grateful she was for her presence.
"I don't want to do this…" She whispered into the older woman's chest. "Not any of it."
"Not any of what, Morgana?" Hunith crooned kindly, coaxing out her worries with the expert touch of a parent. Her arms tightened reflexively around her.
"Camelot." Morgana growled, because somewhere along the way the cobblestone spires had become hell on earth, a cruel mockery of home keeping her and her family in constant fear for their lives. It had been that way for even longer than she had known Merlin, and she hadn't even realized it until she had been free with him for that one blissful week after their wedding- her true wedding.
If she was honest, she wished she had never let him talk her into going back to Uther's kingdom.
"I want to go back to the forest with him… I want us to be free, Hunith."
They were silent for a moment, the two of them, Hunith stroking her hair empathetically while Morgana fought to reign herself back in. Finally, she pulled away, brushing her running mascara off her face.
"But it cannot be, and I have a wedding to attend to." Morgana said with a false confidence, slipping back on the armor that kept her moving under Uther's thumb. "Oh, I'm so sorry Hunith; here I've gone and ruined your frock!"
"Don't be silly, child." The wonderful woman said, waving off the large wet spot on the front of her threadbare dress. "If you want my advice… I think you should go back to that forest of yours."
Morgana froze halfway to standing, darting an incredulous look at her. Was she actually suggest she leave Merlin? Hunith began to rush over herself to clarify, in that adorable way Merlin did when his mouth outpaced his brain.
"Only for a ride, I mean!" She said hastily. "It's not too far out of town, right? You could be back long before anyone knows you're missing. It might help ground you for what you're about to do… or remind you of what the two of you had, and what you're going to have."
Morgana's eyes landed back down on her husband's ring, sparkling deep blue like his eyes under the afternoon sun, and she felt a shot of warmth flood her again. Perhaps it was time to remind herself where they had come from, and why she was doing this.
###
Gwen had been doing a very good job of avoiding the last two people in the world she wanted to see, when one of them cornered her in the laundry pool.
"Hi, Gwen! Have- um- have you seen my wife anywhere?"
She nearly jumped when she spotted him ambling in, and with a chuckle he caught the folded dresses that had flown from her hands and held them out to her, the picture of helpfulness.
Anyone who met Merlin would laugh if she told them that he was a sorcerer.
The light hit him strangely through the windows, playing odd shadows with his sharp cheekbones and doofy grin, and she couldn't decide if he looked suddenly handsome or suddenly terrifying. All she knew was that he was not anything close to what he presented, and that made her wonder just how much of him was a lie after all.
Gwen had been debating with herself since those frantic minutes in the back of the cave, listening to passionate voices talk of magic and destiny and murder; Merlin had killed a woman and brought Gaius back to life, what kind of being could do something like that? Who was he, to scold a raging dragon into submission, to command it the way that her father had sent Elyan to his room when he had teased her too much?
And Morgana had been there too; actually telling him what he had done was okay. Fighting over that little boy, who Merlin had been planning on letting die, and needing reassurances from her husband that the monster's insistence that she, 'the witch', was not going to help him kill her Arthur and burn Camelot to the ground.
Merlin looked at her sardonically, wondering why she was spacing off; as if he hadn't stared down the Great Dragon, as if he was nothing more than Arthur's loveable servant. And that was what hit her worst of all; this entire time, Arthur thought he had finally found a friend who would treat him like an equal, and he was a sorcerer. He couldn't be Arthur's friend… could he?
My father trusted a sorcerer, and look what happened to him.
"Gwen, are you alright?"
Merlin's dulcet tones broke her from her near-panic attack, suddenly much closer to her, emanating worry and just a bit of understanding, presumably thinking that it was the wedding today that had her so afraid. Not that the thought of the love of her life marrying her best friend, a fiercely beautiful noblewoman who loved swordplay and tournaments and politics and was his equal in all the ways she wasn't, didn't stab at her very core.
No, it just seemed trivial compared to her entire world being turned upside down, and she desperately wanted to find Arthur and just finally tell him, to shout it from the rooftops until he came running to her…
"Hey," Merlin whispered, tucking the dresses under one arm to put a comforting hand on her elbow. His light touch seemed to carry a thousand different bolstering words, a softness in him for her that was only surpassed by her Arthur's. She was reminded, suddenly, why she had crushed so hard on him initially, before she had learned that the bully prince was everything she thought she had loved about Merlin and more. "Gwen, we're going to get through this. Whatever the world thinks… they're still coming home to us, right?"
"Y-yes…" She said weakly, staring up at him wide-eyed. He gave her a slow, soothing nod, like all was right in the world, and she knew now exactly why she couldn't get the words out whenever she tried to tell Arthur.
It was Merlin and Morgana. Next to Arthur, no one had done more for her. She owed them her very life; her very happiness, even, because she would not be the woman Arthur loved if not for their care and friendship. Morgana had stopped her just before going after Merlin and the dragon, and told her that no matter what, she loved her, that they were sisters beyond blood; and here Merlin was, doing anything for anyone, because he was never happy unless everyone else was.
Arthur might kill you! She wanted to shout at his understanding smile. You might still be who you've always been, and he could kill you both!
"So you haven't seen Morgana?" Merlin continued worriedly, as he tried offering her the laundry again. Self-consciously, she took it this time, and aimed for a smile as she shook her head. "Ah, damn. We got… well I started a fight this morning and… I don't think she should be alone today, do you?"
Merlin was such a caring person, it seemed. But if that was a lie too… then Arthur in danger.
"Definitely not." Gwen said finally, and Merlin thanked her and sped off at top speed, to find his errant wife. And Gwen watched her tears drop to the ground along with the dresses, as she made her decision.
If she kept Arthur in the dark, they could hurt him. If she told Arthur, he could hurt them.
It came down to a choice between the man she loved and her best friends, and that was no choice at all.
###
It hadn't taken much to slip past the guard; though Morgana didn't have Merlin's raw power, she was quickly growing into her own and the simple spells to make one unnoticeable that they had discovered in the margins of their spell book made it quite a trivial manner. Soon she was galloping over the hills, clad only in the mensclothes Camelot would never allow, reveling in the wind in her hair and the smell of the leaves above her.
The woodland air tasted like home on her tongue, and she suddenly wished she had brought Merlin along to share this with her. But then again, she needed some time away from him, and the ceremony looming over her head.
She had only been riding an hour when she passed a little river, where they had stopped to bath and ended up staying for far, far longer than it took to get each other clean. A salacious grin lit her face as she brought her mare to a trot next to it, her eyes alighting on an out-of-place crater on the shore that had filled with river water. Like yesterday she remembered it, her arms and legs in a vice-grip around him, her new husband filling her body and her soul, as their power erupted madly around them and changed the very landscape. And the way he had let her take the lead in their dance with that gentle smile, so that piece by careful piece she could put back together what Hengist had tried to break inside of her.
But most of all, she remembered the long hours they had just laid there, wet and sated, counting the stars or swapping ridiculous tales or even just gazing at each other, memorizing every detail of their bodies.
Though she had been delighted to see Arthur and Gwen, Gaius and Hunith, and even for a moment Uther himself… Camelot had brought nothing but misery.
This was where she had last been truly happy.
CRACK!
The sound of that downed branch breaking warned her just in time to dive off her horse, rolling onto the sand as a white-hot ball of fire passed over the saddle where she had been. As it made a panicked neighing and galloped off into the brush, Morgana drew the rusted and reliable old sword Merlin had gifted her- "It was Lancelot's… it won't fail you, love."- and pointed it in the direction of the fireball.
"Who goes there?" She shouted as commandingly as possible, which according to Merlin was very.
An ominous snort, rather like a boar, came from out of the brush, followed by the foulest smell she had ever come across. A hulking shape was stomping out of the trees, its massive shadow consuming her, wide-eyed and stunned, beneath it.
"Urgh, look at you." The beast said, nibbling absent-mindedly on what appeared to be a rotting wolf's legs. "All sort of… clean, and symmetrical. Don't fancy being such an ugly little human for a while, do I?"
Morgana forced her slackened jaw closed, and fought past the stench to put on her most intimidating face.
"Exactly what are you?" She spat, touching the tip of the sword to the rags covering the creature's bulk. "I'm warning you, I've taken down worse."
Alright, so that was a lie, but this thing didn't need to know that.
It guffawed at her, tearing off another piece of dead maggoty flesh from the leg in its hand, and then shouted into the woods.
"OY, JONAS, NOW!"
Morgana didn't have much time to react when she heard the rustle of a lithe shape moving quickly towards her from behind. Ducking, she spun and swung her sword at the legs of what she now saw was a human-looking thing in a dark cloak, rushing her with a dagger. Her smug grin, prompted by his obvious inability to dodge her attack, melted off her face when what looked like a tail flicked out from under his robe and knocked her sword away. Narrowly she managed to twist out of the way of the man-thing's stab, but from behind her the woman-thing suddenly had her by the neck, squeezing so hard that all the air in her lungs fled her immediately.
"Been waitin' for somebody important to the wedding to come wandering out here, haven't we, Jonas?" It said viciously, lifting her up off the ground with one hand. "Didn't think we'd get the blushing bride herself, did we?"
"No, mistress." The thing called Jonas murmured sycophantically, sauntering over to her with a dark gleam in his huge eyes. "Shall I; oh please, shall I?"
Morgana struggled uselessly with the fat fingers around her neck, barely able to keep her sword in hand much less lift it. She could feel her eyes try to flash with impotent magic, her abilities short-circuiting under her distress as her heart pumped uselessly without breath. They were going to kill her, she realized; she would die here in her happiest place; and Merlin would probably never know.
"Ah, you're a good servant; you go right ahead!" It said sickeningly, and Jonas made a delighted sound. She caught a flash of silver and he lunged, aiming for her face. Bracing herself, she called up every bit of strength she had left in herself.
"GET! OFF!"
The shout was followed by an explosion of force all around her, searing the ground under them and sending both of her assailants tumbling away from her. While the beast struggled to roll over, like a great turtle, Morgana ignored the screaming pain in her throat and dove at where the nimble one lay on the ground. With a despicable squeak he threw up a hand and tried to send her flying; Morgana grunted and deflected the blast with her own, recklessly plunging through the resulting whirlwind just in time to cleave his head off with a single good swing.
Down the creature went, the thing trying to ruin her memories of this place with Merlin, trying to take her away from him and leave him alone and devastated and unprotected. Morgana saw red, furiously kicking the corpse onto its stomach. Stupid thing.
And suddenly the dagger Jonas had dropped was embedded in her back, not quite reaching the bone.
Morgana threw open her mouth in a silent scream.
"Ugly girl." It snarled behind her, pulling the dagger out with enough force to draw a real scream from her. "Slaying my minion; I liked him, ya know, do you have any idea how rare that is for me?"
Morgana collapsed to her hands and knees, gasping with the effort of staying upright; she had to live, she had to live for him-
A leg hit her like a tree trunk, and with a howl she was sent rolling into the cold river. Desperately she fought to stay afloat, amongst limbs that would not listen and an open wound yelling in her ear; she saw her killer waving sarcastically from the shore, holding the bloodied dagger like a prize.
"Your life's mine now, ugly girl!" It shouted as it moved to leave. "Your life, and everybody you know!"
The horrid laughter trailed off into the brush as she finally made it back to shore, her gasping for breath that would not come the only sound in a deadly quiet forest. Stray leaves fell from above onto wet hair as Morgana reached out blindly, trying to find his hand… they were laying together in their little crater by the river, weren't they? Where was he? Where was her husband?
The sun split inside the jewel of her ring, lit on her face like a blue dawn, and she remembered where he was. Remembered the last time they had spoken, the last thing he would think of when he thought of her. Morgana's mouth opened in a silent cry for him, and the world began to blacken.
I need you. She whispered.
As her heart slowed and her vision dimmed, she saw a figure begin to approach, and a flash of wild blond hair.
I'm here, sister.
###
Hurray, things are happening again!
Oh, did you think trolltime meant there would just be funny shenanigans? Not a chance. (Sorry x3, Haley~!)
So, I'm gonna go ahead and say that, currently, there will probably be around 8 chapters left. Of course that's a ballpark number that can and probably will change- this is me we're talking about here- but please remember that we are very close to the end… and Morgana's dream.
Coming Up: Morgause's story time, the worst wedding ever, and troll!Morgana. Oh yeah, it's happening.