Mists of Time

by Queen

Sailor Pluto is sent though a doorway into an era of legend.... (complete)

2. Moments, That Grow Into Long Years

Mists of Time

Moments, That Grow Into Long Years

That was the beginning of the friendship. Setsuna and Morgan swiftly became inseparable over the winter months, and both were glad to see Morgawse leave for Lothian, on the Saxon Shore, far from Cornwall and Tintagel. Morgawse, as Morgan had told her, had a streak of meanness in her, which showed whenever it could, often in the form of bragging about her upcoming marriage.

With Lord Gorlois away at war, Igraine was required to remain in the castle, keeping it occupied from any who would try to take it. Tintagel, on the coast and on Cornwall's eastern borders would be a valuable port and arming supply to launch campaigns to Ireland, Scotland, or Northern Britain. Skirmishes were reported back to Igraine almost weekly, and she constantly worried about her husband's safety. When a report came that he had done battle with Uther Pendragon's roving army, Igraine had collapsed on the floor, and had to be sedated by the castle's healer on awakening. Finally, she had managed to get the information that both Gorlois and Uther had survived.

Word of Morgawse's wedding to Lot reached them through trader, and he told it well, describing that they were a beautiful couple, well matched, and that the omens showed them as such, and that they would be greatly involved in Britain's future. The dower had outfitted a new set of troops, which, incidentally, had secured Lot's borders to the north and east from the invading Saxons and the occasional strike of Jutes or Frisians. The Picts had not yet made a move, and it was whispered that they feared Lot's strength. Igraine dismissed the boast before Morgan and Setsuna, but in court she loudly supported it, insisting on the good match and the well garrisoned Saxon Shore.

Morgan and Setsuna were trained in Latin and other languages, as well as math and astronomy. Setsuna amazed her teacher with her already well adapted grasp of the mechanics, and Morgan was not far behind her. Once, when the tutor began to contradict Morgan's answer to an astronomical question, a riddle the two girls had puzzled out only the night before, Setsuna had leapt in, defending Morgan, who understood the theorem, but it had been somewhere at one in the morning when the answer had been found, and did not grasp it well enough to argue. Needless to say, the tutor was left spluttering, and eventually ran from the room, while Morgan and Setsuna had howled laughter. Igraine had lectured them later, but then sighed and promised to find them a teacher that was more up to date on current methods. Morgan had later forced Setsuna to confess that her knowledge was not found anywhere on the Earth. Setsuna had cryptically remarked, "Not in this time," and could not be convinced to say any more on the subject.

Winter came hard and cold, and Setsuna celebrated her birthday, then Morgan, when the spring came. Setsuna could hardly believe her eyes as she aged, and often was dragged from a mirror, examining the new thinness to her face, the higher brows and and cheekbones. Morgan complained that she was only twelve and was very unlikely to resemble a woman yet. Setsuna laughed and retorted that she had seen Morgan the day before twirling in the mirror with her clothes pulled tight around her waist, looking for hips. Morgan had flushed, and Setsuna had rolled with laughter. Despite these happy times at the castle, Setsuna, after going to bed at night was distraught, often laying awake, staring at the ceiling for hours on end.

Morgan. Morgawse. Who will mother the Destroyer of Britain's golden age? I remember the tales. Some say Morgan. Far too many. Dear gods, please let it be Morgawse. The boy's name. Mordred. Mordred, who would kill Arthur, kill and bring to a close the Golden Age of Britain. Elizabeth's rule will be called Golden as well...but that is a thousand years and more from now. And humanity will not be so obsessed with Elizabeth as with Arthur...it will be a great age, but this, this is the stuff of legends. Mordred will be younger than Arthur. The tales say he is either Arthur's bastard, or his nephew. Too many, far too many say bastard son. Morgan. I do not want her to be his mother! It is some years off...Morgan is not old enough to bear children, not yet. Arthur is not even born! She is twelve! Surely that is a sign it is Morgawse, with Lot, who shall parent the child! Not Morgan! Please not Morgan! The time must come soon that Gorlois dies...gods, I can't tell Morgan! Not that the man who will kill her father will bed then marry her mother! But...what if he doesn't? Then there will be no Golden Age at all! Arthur...he'd never be born. If only I could know more of what happens! Some knowledge is dangerous, but how dangerous is all? Morgan...le Fey. Morgan of the Fairies. Morgan, if you knew how history and legend record you. How you hate it now, to be called a fey. And where am I in this? There is no record of a Setsuna. No 'Sailor Pluto' in the tales. Why am I here? Father! Answer me! Please!

Tintagel was beautiful in spring.

The sea was calm and peaceful, quiet.

That was the year the wars went from bad to worse.

With the abandonment of Britain by the Romans, the island was left easily open to invading forces from the continent. So often the attacks came that the eastern lands bordering the Channel earned the name 'the Saxon Shore.' Beside fighting the Saxon invaders, the petty kings, such as Lot, all strove to rule the island, to demolish the surrounding kings, burn and pillage their lands- but not too much. If the king was successfully killed, those would be their lands. The most dangerous was rumored to be a renegade noble, landless, a man named Uther, who bore the standard of a golden dragon on a scarlet background. Men said that those who followed him were the strongest warriors in Britain. That he brought a mighty wizard, a druid bard named Taliesin with him, who cast spells of protection over his liege before battle, charms to keep him safe. Many scoffed. Morgan listened in rapture. She had not given up the hope of going to Mona, the druid isle. Word said that Uther, on conquered lands he now held, was building a castle near that place, and had named it Camelot. Mona was near to the site, and it was whispered that the druids favored Uther for it. It was well with the people they did. But a new faith had begun to creep into the Island of Britain. It was a strange cult, following a new God of the Romans. They drank his blood every Sunday. Morgan had told Setsuna how she thought that was disgusting. Setsuna had informed her easily that it wasn't real blood. Morgan had sniffed and said the religion would never take root, not with the druids to show their greater strength. She was very wrong. It was Christianity.

Gorlois's men were encamped several leagues north of Cornwall's borders, as Uther Pendragon had swept perilously close to the borders he defended. Uther with his men were hidden in the forests to the east, not so far from a beautiful lake, their tents and cookfires dotting the spaces between the trees. Uther was a handsome man, in the way of a warrior, with hands callused by years of training with swords, tracks of scars ribboning across his muscular body. The tendons in his neck stood tightly, the pulse throbbing as he held council with his bard, the man Taliesin. Uther was the man who acted in place of his brother, Ambrosius, who many called King of England. Uther slammed his fist on the table of his tent, and shouted as Taliesin watched passively, his long slender hands forming a temple in his lap, resting. Serene blue eyes met Uther's fiery green as Taliesin denied his leige's request. "I will not cast a glamour on you, Uther, to deceive the lady Igraine."

"Damn it, Taliesin! I must see her! Gods, man, you can just sit there? You know about Igraine! I will not bypass the opportunity!"

"You haven't seen the woman since you left to campaign years ago, Uther. She has two daughters, one grown and married. You do not know if her feelings remain as they were when she was a girl."

"All the more reason to see her! I've conquered nearly half Britain, while her husband acts as a thorn in my side, constantly stabbing me! Gorlois is camped several miles from here, and there is a clear path to the castle Tintagel. I'm not going to rape her, dammit! I want to see her!"

"And if her feelings have been unaltered?"

"Then...then I will worry about that when the time comes! By the Saxon god's bloody balls, I'm not going to let the opportunity pass by! Taliesin! This is an order from your warlord! I command you to use that druid magic of yours and help me!"

"I am helping you, by not sending you to a death sentence. If you're caught-"

"I will not be caught! You're a fussy hen, worrying about a chick! I'm a man, a soldier, and I command you...!"

With that, Taliesin stood and left the tent, leaving Uther to rant at his retreating back. Despite what Uther thought, Taliesin was not beholden to him. He served the gods, served his harp. Running a hand down his beard, still the deep brown it had always been, even through Taliesin now approached middle age, he strode down and away from the tents, walking through the woods with his lanky gait, picking his way around the trees and roots of the forest floor. Such a time was one for quiet, and time to let Uther calm himself. By morning, the episode would lay forgotten, and Taliesin would again be Uther's trusted advisor. Some whispered, Taliesin knew, with his bards' ears, that he protected Uther in battle. Words. No man may be saved in battle from a descending blade. But tricks of the eye and magic of the mind...that was different. That he could do, and had done, taught by the men of the druid isle. But to interfere in Uther's love life was beyond his desire to aid. He helped and advised so to unify England, and Uther, despite his boyish callowness, was strong enough to do so. Uther was not an evil man, if not the best man, and was far better than many on the island of England who had the power and skill to lead.

Taliesin broke through the foliage to come onto a lake, the trees coming directly to the shore. Opposite, sands there were shot through with spots of grass and roots, poking their fingers into the air from their usual bed in the earth. There were rocks on the shoreline, and Taliesin absently regretted his not retrieving his harp before coming here. Meter and rhyme to song began to take shape, and words drifted in and out, of a sad song that was writing in his mind. The lake was placid, frogs croaking their hymn to the dusk. A moon sliver was beginning to peer through a strand of cloud. Crickets began to chirp around him, and lightningbugs did a tiny fairy dance over the water.

Setsuna slipped her nightgown over her head, smoothing the folds around her body. She unbound her hair and combed it before the polished mirror. Morgan had gone to bed early that night, claiming she had a headache. On the way to her room, Morgan had divulged the true reason. They had been cutting tubers in the kitchens that day, helping with dinner as Igraine had ordered them to. The steady rhythm of the chopping, the slicing, chopping, slicing, chopping, splash of the pieces as they struck the steaming copper pot, chopping, slicing, chopping, slicing. Morgan's head had begun to bob back and forth, then she had stood for a moment, unmoving, staring at her hands, the knife in one, a piece of turnip in the other. Then she had dropped them, collapsing to the floor with a sharp intake of breath. Half the kitchens had run to her, the daughter of the lord, passing out. Morgan had shook off the strangeness shortly, and was back on her feet. Setsuna had accompanied her from there, out onto the wall for fresh air. Morgan had said nothing, but had whispered of a bad feeling, then refused to say more.

The comb whisked from the ends of Setsuna's hair, and she replaced it on the table, looking into the mirror carefully. And so, the powers of Morgan begin to grow. Maybe. She has had these for some time...I saw that on meeting her...how strong will she become? If she is sent to Mona...will I go, as well? Is it my choice? The Isle of the Druids. What could I learn there? What could Morgan? Premonitions. Morgan is said to have that power. What if she sees who I am? If anyone, let it be her I reveal it to! She has been my best friend for so long now. She spun and nearly crawled into bed, when she realized she had forgotten to bid good night to Igraine as was ritual. She tiptoed down the hall, wound her way up the corridor to Igraine's chambers. The door was open halfway, as Igraine left it before she retired to bed. Setsuna nearly pushed it open to walk in, when she heard the words being spoken inside.

"...camped by the lake. Gorlois will attack tomorrow, after dawn, most like. Uther has a good many forces with him, but we'll prevail, milady!"

"Of course, Nola. Bring me the bowl."

"Yes, lady," there was the sound of water splashing, then Igraine thanking Nola. "Are you holding up with all this?"

"Of course," the words were faint.

"Ah...lady, don't worry about Gorlois! Or...is it Uther you think of?"

"Nola! Hush! Speak not of such things!"

"Ay, milady. It is. I've held my tounge for many years now. Watched you two make mooncalf eyes at each other way back when. I'm your nurse! Or was when you needed it. Love you like my own daughter, I do. What mother wouldn't speak quiet? Hush, child. Nary a thought goes though your head that doesn't tear you between the two. I know you love Gorlois, but I also know your first love. There's not a thing like it. Carry the torch so many years you have."

"Nola, you must hush now. There are people about. The battle will likely engage in the morning. Gorlois will chase Uther and his brigands back to that half built castle he's constructing!"

"Milady, you don't mean...."

"I do!" there was the sound of a brush slapping the table, then the legs of a chair scraping across the floor as Igraine stood. "A fool's dream! I will speak no more of it! Nola, leave!"

Setsuna scrambled from her position on the door's frame to several feet in the direction she had come, and as Nola came out the door, she began to walk smoothly forward, as though just approaching, and smiled brightly to the old nurse. "Good even, Nola."

"Good even, lady. The lady is in a foul temper tonight. Mayhap you best return to bed." Nola's pale eyes hazily focused on her.

"Are you certain, Nola? I always say good night to her...maybe I can cheer her up."

"I'm afraid not, alanna. You'd best to bed. Is Morgan sleeping well?"

"Very, Nola. She was exhausted from her ordeal today."

"Of course...come on. I'll tuck you in," Nola led Setsuna back to her rooms, and buried her under the covers, kissing her on the forehead. If she only knew I was hundreds of years older than she...I wonder if she still would tuck me in. She's so kind. I wonder if I will ever put a child to bed such as this. A little girl, to call me Setsuna-mama. Children. So adorable.

Nola turned down the lamp and closed the door behind her. Within the space of a few breaths, Setsuna flung the covers off, and reached up into the air, pulling the Timestaff from where it awaited. Her hand gripped the center comfortably. Hello, old friend. It's been long, ne? I haven't needed you, I'm afraid. You don't mind, I hope. Uther lays not far from Tintagel's borders. Is this the time? I must be certain. Old friend, Garnet Orb, I pray you show me the way! She turned the staff to the mirror on her dresser, and it shimmered, then clouded, strands of mist curling around the edges of the glass.

"I will not cast a glamour on you, Uther, to deceive the Lady Igraine."

"Damn it, Taliesin! I must see her! Gods, man, you can just sit there? You know about Igraine! I will not bypass the opportunity!" the sounds vibrated softly, murkily around her ears, and then stilled. The scene within the glass clouded, the mists spiraling together. Setsuna gasped and staggered back, her head throbbing with the effort. She leaned against the bedpost, supporting herself. This is the time. This is the hour. The night. It must be. Gods. If Taliesin refuses, then Arthur is never conceived, never born. Father, you told me I may interfere. You told me this is for me to live out. But somehow, I am not remembered. At least not as Setsuna Meioh, Sailor Pluto. Then who am I? Paradoxes. Time in circles. I must ensure that what has happened, will happen. It is my duty to protect the timestream. If I cannot guard the Gates, then by the gods these people swear by, I will do what I can! Garnet Orb! Lend me your power! I must accomplish my mission here! Send me to Taliesin!

Setsuna lifted the Timestaff to the sky, and called out, "Pluto Planet Power! Make-up!" she changed, her clothes reforming into the uniform she had not donned in more than a year here. Tiny, round red earrings appeared. Flat boots hit the floor with a satisfying smack. It's good to be back. Now, to Taliesin!

Light fluxed around her, and she teleported, her eyes reopening...in the crystal cave. The cave? I thought I was going to Uther's camp...maybe this is the only place I can teleport to. Well...for now it will do. Taliesin and Uther's camp is not far. I'll have to walk. Not exactly glamourous, but it will have to do.

She headed up to the steps and came up out of the waters.

Taliesin had seen the mists shifting over the lake, and sensed magic very strong here. He had ambled up and down the shore, singing the song he was working out to himself in the brightening moonshine. When a splashing occurred, he ignored it, thinking it a fish. When the sound came again, growing steady on the water, Taliesin turned, and there, in the center of the lake, a girl walked on the waves. She carried a staff like none he had ever seen, and wore clothes unlike any he had ever heard of. She spotted him even as he saw her, and he felt a shudder ripple through him. Garnet eyes, and hair that shone emerald in the moon's silvery glow. Surely a goddess of the water. She hesitated a moment as they locked gazes, and then Taliesin dropped to his knees, confronted with the power of a child goddess, who had the power to do such magic. She approached him. "My Lady," he bowed deeply from the waist. "I am the one called Taliesin, a druid bard. I am honored by your presence."

Setsuna forced herself not to laugh, but could not help a small, knowing smile. He thinks me a goddess! Shall I play the part? Would a goddess convince him more than a mere girl? 'Sailor Senshi' means nothing to him...but a fey...a fey may demand his attention. Yes....

"Rise, Merlin. You have a destiny to fulfill. There will be a child born, the child of the man Uther Pendragon and the woman Igraine. That child, he shall be borne of all England, and is the man you so desperately seek." So desperately seek...Setsuna...these words...these are my words? Do I truly speak so? This...this is right, somehow. This...this feels so right… As she thought this, her aural light began to flit around her body, strengthening, growing as she understood what she was beginning to do. I am creating the legend. Had Taliesin not seen me this night, had he come here, and I not have told him otherwise, then the Age of Arthur would never exist. This is my duty. This is why Father sent me here. But is the life of one boy, even Arthur, and the peace and glory he will bring, is that reason enough to send the Guardian from the Gates? This is the lesson. But only a part of it... "You will guard the boy. Train him and teach him, protect him as his guardian. Rise, Merlin, and fulfill the promise of time and fate. This is your destiny."

"It will be as you say. But...my Lady, what shall I call you?"

"Call me nothing. I have no name to give, Merlin."

"Then I shall give you one. As a bard, I must name things. It is my..." he smiled faintly. "...it is in my blood." His eyes lit as he swept his gaze over the lake. Setsuna waited patiently for him, amusement playing on her lips. "You...I shall call you the Lady of the Lake."

Much later, Setsuna would allow herself to feel shock at those words. When she was again at the castle Tintagel, curled warm in her bed, knees tucked up under her, thighs pressed against her chest. Lady of the Lake. Lady of the Lake. I am the Lady of the Lake. The woman who has such mystery. Am I so mysterious? I hear guards outside, shouting, "Lord Gorlois has returned! Summon the lady Igraine at once!" It has begun. What have I wrought? Wrought. I begin to sound as these people, use their words. I haven't spoken 'okay' in years now, a word not created for many centuries. Not since Morgan questioned it. Will they summon Morgan? Please, no. She would see through the glamour, I'm sure. She is powerful, her strength sleeps, stirring at times, such as today. It is a dragon, and I must fear it. I know not her reaction to what I have done. Arthur will be Uther's bastard, as is known. Uther will be crowned king, but his hard fought empire will crumble under him. It is not his destiny. It is his son's. I wonder if he will find any comfort in that. The glamour. The Merlin is powerful. But there are those in the castle who will see the slant of the shadows as other than Gorlois's. Servants, though often dismissed, are not stupid. They have sharp eyes and ears that absorb all things in the castle's life. That Arthur is Uther's will be discovered. Or else no one would know in the annals to be written, the legends to be told. Gorlois...he dies. Will it be tomorrow? Killed by Uther's hand? Father, I hope I have acted correctly. There is such a price attached to these actions. Lady of the Lake....

Sleep closed her eyes and she slept. Setsuna did not hear Morgan stir in her room, troubled by a sad dream, where a man took the place of her father. She went to Setsuna's chamber, and found her exhaustedly asleep. She felt pity for the sleeping Setsuna, and left her to her dreams. She heard the excitement in the hall, and peered with her violet eyes down through the bannister. A man she had never seen stood there, and the men called him, "Gorlois." But this was not her father. Morgan watched as he was escorted to his room, claiming he had a headache and felt somewhat dizzy. They led him there, where Igraine waited. Morgan let out a shriek of rage, and began to scream. Her tiny figure hurtled down the stairs, calling the disguised man false, a fake. Orders were snapped that the girl be restrained. Morgan was carried off, back to her rooms, and placed there. In the clamor outside her door, Setsuna awoke sleepily, and heard Morgan's cries of rage. She knows. Why did she wake? Her magic. This must be a part of things. Forgive me for having to lie to her. I hate having to lie to her. There will be so much change in these next few weeks. Next few months. But it must be done. Morgan, I am so sorry.

Consoled by Setsuna, Morgan cried herself out, hysterical sobs breaking down into a fitful sleep.

'Gorlois' left before dawn, and as it takes an army past that time to ready itself for battle, he returned to his camp. Igraine was quiet that next day, and was left to herself. She watched out her tower window, resting her head on the eaves. Once, she gasped. It was near to midday. She closed her eyes at this, and placed a hand on her belly, resting it there. Word came swiftly that evening. The battle had been short, Gorlois's troops, routed. Cornwall, and Tintagel with it, was now owned by Uther Pendragon.

Uther camped at Tintagel's wall that night. Morgan saw the man. She kept her tiny face closed, her deer-like wide eyes unemotional, cold and flat. "I will hate him forever."

"Morgan, you can't mean that...." Setsuna had protested.

"Yes, I do," they were not the words of a child. They were hard and frosty, inlaid with fire, and Morgan said them calmly. "I will hate Uther Pendragon for all time. He murdered my father. I see how he watches my mother. Vulture. Nothing more than a vulture. Picking at Britain's bones. He may live here. I can do nothing about that, now. The bard, with him, Taliesin. He's the man who cast that spell on Uther. Don't tell me it was anything but a spell, Setsuna. He made him look like my father. He tricked my mother. He's a bard, and a druid bard at that. He will be living here, I have Seen it. I will learn everything I can from him until I go to Mona. I will go to Mona. I will become a druidess. A priestess. I will become the most powerful priestess of the Goddess to have ever lived. Then I will kill Uther Pendragon."

It was at Gorlois' funeral that the girls first met Uther and Taliesin. They had worn black veils over their faces, the veil of death, obscuring their features. It was at the wake that they were introduced. It was odd that Uther, the conqueror, attended the funeral of one he had killed. It was not by his hand, directly, that had struck Gorlois down, but it was his orders, his strategy, that had allowed his forces to take the day. Morgan watched the ceremony quietly, as the priestesses of the Crone chanted over the body of her father. She remained like jade, hard and cold and emotionless. Stone does not cry.

Igraine called the girls over to her, where she spoke to Uther and to Taliesin. I have had time to ready myself. Taliesin. What will he say to me? Morgan recognized me, even through the first time we met I was in Scout form. Will Taliesin? Very likely. He is the Merlin.

"Morgan, Setsuna," Igraine introduced. "This is Uther Pendragon, and the druid Taliesin." Politely, the girls removed the veils from their heads. Morgan watched Uther evenly, dismissing Taliesin for the time being. Setsuna watched only Taliesin, keeping her lashes lowered demurely to the bard. He controls himself well. No shock registers on his face. Only in his eyes. I see the widening, the surprise written there. He sees me, and knows that I was at the lake.

"Lady Setsuna. Lady Morgan." Taliesin greeted gravely. "We regret your loss."

"Yes." Morgan stated, then turned and left her mother, Setsuna, and the two men to watch her retreat.

"Forgive her," Igraine asked. "She is upset over Gorlois' death. Excuse me," Igraine hurried off after Morgan, weaving her way through the people. Setsuna returned to the two men and curtsied politely.

"Lords. Has your stay been a good one?"

Uther kept his gaze on the figure of Igraine, and then wordlessly took off after her. "Forgive Uther," Taliesin told Setsuna, who had remained untouched by Uther's unintended insult of abandonment. "He is impetuous. My lady?" his arm was offered to Setsuna. "I believe we must discuss a few things." Setsuna accepted the arm and Taliesin escorted her outside the hall into the dusk. "So, my Lady of the Lake, you appear to enjoy mingling with mortals."

"I am no goddess, and I would appreciate it that you would not speak of me so."

"You are no usual child, and I am compelled to treat you as such. When I come close to you, I sense time, growing slow and thick around you, then swirling. I was told that you are the child of a Chronos Meioh, one of Rome. Chronos. God of time. Is he your father, Lake Lady?"

"I told you not to call me that. But yes. No one else knows of it, and you must not speak of it. I am here on my Father's business."

"Ah. I see. Then I call you lady Setsuna, as all others here seem to, even through your blood is that of a god. Morgan hates Uther, doesn't she?"

"Yes. She's young, and has had her father killed. From what I understand, she was close to him as a child, and was greatly saddened at his leaving to fight for Cornwall. Felix is weak, and will die soon. Mark is a boy, growing, but still young as yet. Now Cornwall has no one to fight for her."

"Uther will not allow the Saxons to reach this place."

"The Saxons...the Saxons are not my concern. Uther will leave a garrison here, will he not?"

"Yes. To protect the place. Cornwall is weak without Gorlois. King Felix, as you say, is weak and dying. Mark is young yet, growing, but still a stripling. He is not the leader that Cornwall needs."

"No. He is not. You will remain with the garrison. Morgan has Seen it."

"I go with Uther...."

"No. You go with Arthur. He is your King, your only King, who you must be loyal to. Uther is only his father, and a small part of this legend. You must be here when the child is born. Morgan and I need you as well. She has not forgiven you for your part in this, but-"

"Has she forgiven you?" Setsuna winced. "Ah. She does not know."

"She is my best friend. I do not want her to feel betrayed. But the ebb and flow of time must occur in the order it has. I know what will happen, but not how. Arthur is the child of Uther Pendragon and Igraine, born bastard. He will be raised by the man called Merlin, who is a bard often known as Taliesin. Morgan learns much magic from you, and will go to Mona as she wishes to learn more. Igraine holds onto her youngest...but with Arthur's birth, the grip will loosen, and Morgan, with your help, will be able to go to the druid Isle. Now...I'm hungry. There's roast hen inside and bread. I'm starving. Let's go," Setsuna led Taliesin inside to where the banquet tables were laid out.

Taliesin did remain, much to Uther's anger. The druid had argued that Igraine was pregnant with his child, and that the boy needed to be protected by him. Uther, otherwise childless, was stunned, and demanded to know how Taliesin knew such a thing. "Time knows all, after awhile," Taliesin responded, to which Uther threw up his hands at what he termed 'bard talk' in riddles. Uther asked Igraine to wed him. In horror, Igraine had refused, claiming correctly that the time was far to close to the time of mourning for Gorlois. Uther swore he'd return in a year for her. Igraine had nodded once, in acceptance, and Uther had taken this as a yes for his proposal, leaving the following week for Camelot.

Taliesin remained, and trained the girls as months passed and Igraine's belly swelled out like a smiling moon. Morgan's random visions stemmed as Taliesin taught her to control them. Morgan absorbed his lessons like a sponge, soaking in the information and often begging for more. Her powers began to grow as she did. Word came, from Lothian, that Morgawse was pregnant, and the omens showed a boy, with a good future. Two months later, word again came that the child was born, a boy. Igraine railed about the poor information network and its slowness, even as she bundled together swaddling clothes for Morgawse. The messenger declared that they had named the boy Gawain, and was now heir to Lothian. And so the first...at least that I have heard...of the heroes is born. Was Kay not older? Yes...Ector's son? Then perhaps Gawain is not the first. Still...winter is here, and Igraine is bloated in the stomach, her ankles swelling. She will deliver soon.

When Arthur came, he came screaming, face red and fists punching. "A fighter!" Igraine had cried in delight. "I have two daughters, but now I have a son as well...Taliesin, I am so blessed!" Igraine rocked the baby and held him whenever he cried, at night or day. Morgan had at first refused to see what she called, "Uther's whelp," but Setsuna finally dragged her to the cradle, and they peered over the child, who was sleeping.

"Setsuna...he's so cute." Morgan whispered, sticking her finger into his tiny fist. "My baby brother. Do you think he'll be a fighter someday?"

"Yes. And with his big sister a druidess, who will mess with him?" Morgan's face set.

"Taliesin has been hinting that mother is relenting in letting me go. He thinks the spring. Arthur. He's Uther's. I Saw it. There are rumors...my actions that night tipped them off...but still. Arthur is not Uther. His son, maybe. But he's also mother's," she scrunched up her nose and made cooing sounds at the baby, who sleepily opened his eyes and burbled. "I'll take care of him. No one messes with my baby brother!" Morgan decided this, and grinned at Setsuna.