"At First Chance" (Rose)
My nightmare comes to an abrupt end with the parting of my eyelids in one swift muscle movement. I sit up and almost slap my own face. "Merlin!?" I call out in growing panic as nothing but silence answers me.
The scuffling of feet sounds under the closed door. "Please, no," I whimper from fear of the figures I saw last night that haunted my sleep were behind it. The door swings open with a creak revealing Gaius. "Oh, Gaius," I say, exhaling shakily. "It's you."
"Merlin left not too long ago to wake Arthur," he says, his face showing confusion and concern. "Are you alright? You look as if you've seen a ghost."
"Please, do not mention ghosts," I beg.
"What is it? You've been acting frightened ever since last night's occurrence with the mandrake." His old, weathered, blue eyes scan my countenance. Say what you will about the elderly, they read young faces like the fresh pages of a newly bound book.
"This is going to sound crazy," I admit sheepishly. "But I saw what he saw, Gaius."
"The King?" he asks in surprise. "What did you see?"
"T-there was a woman," my tongue is nearly incapable of forming the words, "She wore a regal wedding ring ... Her eyes were so familiar ... And there were children ... They were all soaked in water. It appeared as though it came from them, but I know that wasn't the idea."
"You have your mother's eyes in more ways than one," he remarks with a strange gloom flustered in wonder. "Come over here and step into the sunlight."
"I don't understand," I eye him through my furrowed brow.
"I'll explain in a moment," he walks to the window and I reluctantly follow. This is an odd request, even for a doddery old physician.
"You men of Camelot and your delayed explanations," I comment in jest. I do as he asks, facing him, squinting from the brightness of the sun. He places his hands on either side of my face, using his thumbs to keep my eyelids wide open. "So it's true," he says in his crisp way of speaking.
"What is?"
"You can see spirits," he elaborates as I blink excess moisture over my stinging eyes.
His words send a shiver up my spine. "I can what?" I shield my eyes with my hand, getting out of the direct light.
"The woman whom you saw was Queen Ygraine, Uther's wife and Arthur's mother. That is why you recognized something about her eyes. Like you, the Prince has his mother's eyes," he says in sad tenderness.
"I feel that there is more to this than you're telling me," I perceive and am correct by the looks of his reaction. He opens his mouth to speak when my sharp hearing grabs and pulls my attention to what lies beyond our door. I gather the muffled words of Sir Leon and other members of the patrol. "I must ask a favor of our knights at first chance," I cut him off.
He stares at me with a guessing expression. "You have some explaining to do afterwards, young lady."
"Then that makes two of us," I respond with a smirk, spinning to chase after the soldiers. "Sir Leon!" I call, coming up behind the party of men.
"Rose," he addresses me with happy shock, "To what do I owe this pleasure?"
"I'm afraid this is no pleasant matter," my countenance grows grave along with my voice. "I hadn't a chance to speak with Arthur, and the last thing I need is him asking stupid questions, so you're the only one I could turn to."
"What can I do for you?" he asks in a more serious tone.
"It's not what you can do for me, but what you can do for Camelot. I have every reason to believe an army is advancing upon us. They come from the east. I fear it may be Cenred. You must take the patrol to the woods east of Camelot and report to Arthur what you find. He will listen to you without a doubt," I speak perhaps too quickly.
"I will, my lady," he responds with respect. "I will not ask any more information from you. Your business is your own, and I will be glad to seek to protect this kingdom, whatever the source of your warning."
I sigh with relief. "Thank you, Leon." He smiles kindly and continues to the doors that would take him to the courtyard. "And Sir Knight?" He glances at me, waiting for my final statement. "Please, take care."
"I will do my best." With that, he vanished through the door, joining his comrades on horseback.
I return to Gaius, the questions swirling in his mind apparent on his face. After a moment of inspecting each other, he breaks the silence. "Now for those explanations ..."
The next few minutes he provides me with, I recount the tale of the previous days' ventures. "Your turn," I say upon conclusion. "Why was it so important that you examined my eyes in such a manner? How do you know I can see spirits? What does this have to do with my mother?" The questions pour from me like water from a mountain spring.
"As you know, you possess a great many gifts bestowed on you through your bloodline. You know of the general magical abilities that come from your people and the more specific gifts from your family tree, such as your mother's talent for healing. She could see spirits, and that gift passed to you. Normally, these things the naked eye cannot see, even for a powerful sorcerer. However, this ability comes with certain eyes. When one performs a magical feat, their eyes flash gold, signifying the act of the flow of magic with them. Your eyes always have flecks of this reaction in them, which is apparent in direct light such as the sun," he elaborates with great thought and concentration.
"What does that mean?"
"You have a constant presence of magic in your vision, much like your other senses, which is why you are able always to hear, taste, smell, see, and through touch, perceive things well. Others would need a potion or a curse or a strong spell upon them to be able to accomplish this," he answers me, tone dripping with amazement.
"That explains that then," I exhale in exhaustion from simple words.
"No Slack" (Merlin)
The sunlight hides from Arthur behind the curtains. I tramp across his room, feeling various items tug at my boots. I rip the drapes back, revealing the littered floor of the chambers. "What happened?!" I exclaim in exasperation.
"What happened? I've had to make do without a servant, that's what's happened!" Arthur brashly retorts in a bratty tone.
"I wasn't gone for that long," I protest his statement.
"Without my permission," he reminds me with hastened frustration.
"What if I was dying?" I present this as metaphoric, when it was a reality, but this, he cannot know. Would've won me this argument though.
"I wouldn't be complaining!" He yells, and then continues with sarcastic curiosity, "But you're not. So where have you been?"
"I was dying," I tell the truth plainly.
"I don't have time for this," he says with hushed anger, scrambling out of bed. "The future of the kingdom rests upon my shoulders. Do you have any idea what that feels like?"
I begin to be blatantly honest again, knowing he won't believe me, "Well-"
"Merlin," he interrupts, holding his finger up to signal "shut up" instead of actually saying it. "I should have you thrown in the dungeons, so ... what have you got to say for yourself?"
I think for but a second. "You've not had your breakfast this morning, have you?" I ask, knowing how incredibly grumpy Arthur is when he goes an extended period without a substantial meal.
His expression turns for rage from embarrassment, "I'll have you for breakfast!" His gaze shoots around, picking something up, turning, and chucking it at my head.
I lean to the side, dodging it in reflex. "Oh, no wonder this place is such a mess!" I spit as he finds something else to throw. The previous moment nearly repeats with a new verbal response from me. "Oh, yes. I can see you've got all the makings of a great king," I tease and bow in jest. The second item almost strikes me, but I evade with one step back and disappear through the door.
The rest of the morning seems to be as normal. I am given no slack at all. Arthur is sure to reprimand me for every little thing gone wrong in my absence AND while I'm present. There really is no winning for me at this point.
After some time with Arthur, I am finally given to chance to break away, with permission, mind you. I walk through the halls with purpose. A hand yanks me into the hollow of the castle corridor belonging to Morgana. "I don't know how you managed to escape," she hisses, keeping her hold on my arm. "But I do know one thing: If you breathe a word of what you saw, I will make your life a very short and painful one." She speaks the way Arthur does when he's angry with me, only she means every word. She harshly releases her grip and then smiles, sinisterly baring her teeth with eyes like a bloodthirsty hound. "Just think of how Uther would react if he learned that a serving boy had tried to poison his beloved ward." Satisfied with her challenge, she waltzes on her way. I watch her go, breathing rapidly from the shock. The goodness in her has completely vanished. Her soul is vexed with darkness.