Everyone sees just how different Ambrosian lifestyle really is. Arthur receives an additional warning of another kind, but will he understand?
Where they are going isn't really a reception hall. It's more of an everything room, the only place large enough to house the entire Ambrosian population. When they pass the threshold of the lobby they see the space has been fully decked out. You can imagine that without all the decorations the venue isn't much. They are unequivocally the simple life type people, but with all the baubles and trimmings it is a beautiful and elegant space. It's not rich and luxurious. It's earthy and enchanting. Natural vines and local flowers adorn the walls and pillars. Trees that have been ushered in are garnished with twinkle lights and sparkle around the room, creating a starry effect on the walls. Faintly scented candles brighten the tables and enhance shelving around the perimeter. Even a waterfall cascades over a rock display in a corner. All the tables are round with white linen and seat twelve people. Other than the sizeable dance floor, the tables occupy the rest of the space, including buffet tables, a cake table, and a bar. That's the setting, but the characters... the characters are a whole other story.
The Ambrosians don't even look like the same people from the ceremony. At the handfasting they were simple, plain, modest, and natural. Here, however, here... they all look like they're prepared to go clubbing; lots of skin, loads of makeup, and very tight. Merlynn wasn't kidding. These women are all in competition for honor tonight.
They see Mordred amongst a group of men. He's wearing an all black tuxedo with a red button-down shirt. He has no tie and the top three buttons have been left open. The ladies of Camelot can undeniably say the man is hot!
The Goddess slinks up to him, snatches his hand, and drags him from the crowd.
"Ooh, Mordred, looks like Emrys has arrived!" The native males taunt the warlock.
"Shut it!" he yells back to them, giving them the two finger salute as he's being tugged away by his fiance. She's pulling him to join her with the rest of Camelot. They choose a table towards the back and fairly secluded. The group arranges themselves around and settle in.
Merlynn remains standing and shoves Mordred into a chair, anxious for her big reveal. "Okay, have a seat! Have a seat and get comfortable!" She's designed her evening regalia with only her warlock in mind and has been dying to unveil it from the moment the last thread was in place.
Mordred had been joining the rest of their party giggling fondly at the witch's excitement, when he turns to give her all of his attention. "All right, All right. I'm here, love. Show me." It's so adorable how eager she is. When she unties the jacket and whips it off, tossing it onto the chair, his jaw drops. It. Just. Drops. He's no longer even aware Camelot is sitting behind him. Merlynn's wearing a sheer black jumpsuit, the chiffon gradually thickening the further it progresses to her more intimate parts. The hemline around her trousers dips to her lower lumbar, while her neckline begins below the belly button, with the sides tied in a bow behind the neck, leaving her completely backless. The outside swells of her breasts are visible through the gauzy weave, and the inside swells are left bare, pinched together by an organza strip. Overall, the garment is overtly clear she's wearing nothing underneath. She uses strappy, black leather heels to polish off the garment, but the true finishing touch, accentuating all the nudity, is her curled, messy bun and flowing tendrils, accented by a single blooming rose, matching his own ruby red attire. Mordred's tongue is caught in his throat. He doesn't think he's closed his mouth or even blinked yet.
The Goddess is nervous. She wanted so badly to impress her beloved, and he's not saying anything. "Mordred?... If you don't like it I can change it. You know... magic and all."
"Oh babe..." He can't stop staring. Well, when you can't speak... do. The warlock springs to his feet, wraps his arms around her thighs, and lifts her. She keeps herself from flipping over the back of him by gripping his shoulders. He whirls her around, and they both crow with glee.
"So you like it? You really like it?"
"Merlynn... I love it!"
She hasn't even noticed the rest of the group and really doesn't care. As far as she's concerned tonight is about Mordred. He's apparently more polite, though. He slides her down his body until her feet are back on the floor. Like a gentleman, he pulls out her chair, clasps the tips of her fingers, and guides her into the seat next to his.
"Ahem... Sorry everyone. Just uh... having a moment with my fiance." They both grin knowingly at one other.
The group is silent. Fortunately, the couple's 'moment' gave them time to swallow Merlynn's chosen reception clothing (or lack there of) so they were able to recover quickly when they finally were addressed. At least Gwaine was.
"Quite all right, my man. No harm."
"I didn't get to ask earlier. What did you all think of the ceremony?"
"It was nice. I like the whole double aisle thing. You know, with them walking to each other instead of just the bride. That was cool. And I like all the colored ties. Everything was so cream and white and then there were these jewel toned ribbons. They really stood out. Gwennie, maybe you and Lance could do something like that."
"Maybe, but is it religion specific? Not that there's anything wrong with your religion... just that I don't want to... you know offend anyone. Like a caucasian couple jumping the broom."
"No, of course not. Any religion can handfast. It's the words that attach to each color that people normally want. The spell at the end is religion specific, though. Merlynn and I won't be able to use it, but we can maybe modify it a little."
"I was wanting to ask what he said. And why wouldn't you be able to use it? Is it an actual spell? Is it permanent?"
"Damn Mith. Give the man a chance to answer." Sefa sometimes has to rein her roommate in.
"Uh, it is a spell. It means 'forever unity'. We can't use it because... well forever has a different meaning for Merlynn, doesn't it? It's kind of like the 'till death do us part' said in traditional weddings. But this is a spell, so its not just words, and it would be cruel to use it when half the couple is immortal."
"So, are you saying this Will guy is now locked in with uh... what was her name again?"
"Freya, Elyan. You know, you could just look up at the giant banner on the wall."
The youngest knight blushes. "Uh, yeah... Thanks, Leon."
"To answer your question, locked in isn't the right way to say it. Physical intimacy will be limited to each other."
"Are you saying they'll be unable to have sex with other people?" The priestess thinks that might be useful for the plan. She'd have to discuss it with Nimueh.
"I'm saying it renders the body incapable of recognizing any other partner."
"So, in other words, neither will be able to orgasm."
Merlynn is likely having her first kiss tonight, and she really doesn't want to hear Mithian discussing sex with her betrothed.
"Everyone have a seat! The guests of honor have arrived!"
Saved by the bell. Thank the goddess.
"Can everyone give it up for Will.. and.. Freya!!!"
The couple enter holding hands, then Will whips her out on the dance floor, twirling her into his chest.
"Hey, what's their surname? We know yours is Ambrose... which come to think of it is kind of funny. Were you named after the compound or was the compound named after you?" Elena asks.
"Actually, no Ambrosians have a surname. Or you could say we all have the same one, I guess. But I only became Merlynn Ambrose when I left the commune. Your society requires one, so as we all see each other as family, the clan thought Ambrose would be most fitting. It stood to reason I'd be named after where we live and our way of life."
"So, if you all view one another as family, then technically wouldn't any relationship be incest?"
"Gwaine!"
"Kidding! Fuck, it was a joke. That was a perfect setup if I ever saw one. Couldn't let it pass, people."
"Good because there is definitely nothing familial about those two." Mithian gestures to the bride and groom.
"They are a beautiful couple. Do they have magic, like you?"
Merlynn wags her head to her curly haired roommate. "No, actually. Will has none, and Freya is a bastet."
That's... interesting. Well, if no one's going to bite, he will. "What's a bastet?" Gwaine asks.
"It's a leopard about the size of a large horse with wide bat wings."
Mordred says it so plainly, like it's perfectly normal for a guy to marry a cat-bat? bat-cat? Mithian needs more information. "If she's a bastet, then how is she human? Or is this a glamour?"
Is she seriously suggesting beastiality? Morgana's trying to hold back her laughter. After all, she's not supposed to know what a bastet is... yet. Mordred and Merlynn don't have the same plight, however, and are openly chuckling.
"Sorry, sorry." The warlock gestures an apology. "It's just the idea of Will 'with' Freya when she's shifted..."
Merlynn cracks up at that thought, which hits Mordred again, and then Morgana buckles and immediately doubles over. The increase in intensity has become contagious and soon the whole table is roaring. When it finally subsides, Mordred takes another shot at answering the question.
"Again, ahem... I apologize. You just have to know Will. To answer your question, it is not a glamour. Freya is what's called a shape shifter. She doesn't really have magic. That is her only power. They will leave before midnight because that is when she shifts."
"She shifts every night?" Percival has to enter the conversation sometime.
"Yes, she'll take Will flying, but that's only started recently. It took a long time for her to convince him." The witch sees the question on their faces. "He's afraid of heights." Merlynn snickers a little at that too. Just the idea of Will afraid of anything.
"So wait... a guy who's afraid of heights marries a woman who actually flies?" Elyan asks.
Merlynn nods. "You can see them together." She indicates the couple still swaying on the dance floor. "No fear would keep them apart. They're meant for each other."
They have to agree. The song soon ends, and the master of ceremony hands Will the microphone.
--
"Welcome everyone. Thank you all for coming. Freya and I are grateful to have our friends and family here with us on our very special day. But there are some others here with us that we are totally stoked about."
No, he wouldn't. The raven really hopes her friend isn't preparing to do what she thinks he is.
"Our ever lovely Merlynn has brought with her some extraordinary guests. Some well... literal historical guests."
"Oh, goddess! I'm so sorry, I didn't know he was going to do this!"
"It's okay, Merls. With how your da treated us, we kind of expected it."
Well she didn't. And she is not happy with the groom right now. She figured her clan would come and meet them little by little, not swarm them at once.
"Will Merlynn and Camelot please join me.. You can come too, Mordy."
'Mordy' flashes 'Willy' a 'fuck you' gesture, but follows the group anyway.
"Oh, come on, mate. We all know and love ya."
The group files one by one onto the dance floor. Merlynn is glaring daggers into the groom.
"Uh, oh... Emrys is not happy with me. I guess this means we can't play 'guess that knight'?" Merlynn's look says it all. "Woah, damn. Fine... You're not gonna smite me are you?" he goads with a one armed hug. She swats him in the chest in good fun. "Well, if we can't play my game, you're gonna have to introduce them." He hands her the microphone.
She receives it exasperated at her long time friend. "Hello Ambrosia! You all know I left about a month ago to meet my destiny. Well, I met a lot more than that. Let me first introduce you to my lovely roommates." Both women step forward from the line. "You all would know them as Queen Guinevere or Lady Guinevere. She likes to be called Gwen, though." The brunette waves and the crowd cheers. When they settle some, Merlynn proceeds. "And the quirky blonde next to her is Queen Elena." More applause. "And of course you cannot have Lady Guinevere without her love. Sir Lancelot please step forward." Whoops and hollers join the clapping. "And Queen Elena has also bagged herself a knight. Step up here by your woman, Sir Gwaine." Gwaine winks and blows kisses at the crowd like he's on the red carpet. "We can't forget our queen had a brother. Sir Elyan come on up." The youngest knight sidles up to his sister and waves. The guests respond in kind. "We all remember Sir Lancelot had a best friend. Will you join us Sir Percival?" The gentle giant bashfully joins the line. "Finally, these guys all need a leader. Welcome the First Knight, Sir Leon." The ginger stands on the end as if he's still watching over his men. "The Knights of the Round Table!" Applause clamors throughout the room.
"We aren't finished yet, people! We cannot forget the other beloved ally to our King. Queen Mithian." She slides up next to Leon as the audience cheers. "And low and behold our Mithian here has a roommate. The one and only warrior, freedom fighter, Sefa!" Sefa didn't think she'd get the same reaction as the queens, but she steps out to as much laudation as the rest. "Finally, I want to introduce you to my good friend and high priestess, Princess Morgana." The last member of the attending visitors steps forward. "Ambrosia! I give you... Camelot!" The crowd roars. Shrieking and hooting, shouting and whistling. They get it all, and obviously all with a standing ovation.
The group are somewhat embarrassed, but they are mostly moved. This acclamation and reception isn't for entertainment on a screen or singing on a stage. They aren't stars. They aren't celebrities. No, to these people they are more, they are real. They are heroes. It really means something to find out you've been a part of changing the world to make it a better place, and they are honored.
Morgana signals to Merlynn for the microphone. Her brother isn't here, so she needs to step up to the plate. The Goddess passes it to the priestess. "Thank you, thank you all! I know I speak for the rest of us in saying that we're truly humbled by your adulation, and we will strive to... I guess follow in our own footsteps. Well, I will wait for that second lifetime, but everyone else." The room chortles at Morgana's barb against herself. "Now I know you must be disappointed that my brother isn't here." Awws ring throughout the room. "He sends his regrets, but he does plan to come back another time and meet you." Everyone cheers at the promise of Arthur's return. "Until then, I hope you all can make do with just us." The room laughs but soon breaks out into thunderous applause.
Will reaches to relieve Morgana of the mic. "I know I can." Will says assuring Camelot he is plenty satisfied with only their attendance. "I just want to say... well, Freya and I want to say how deeply honored we are that you came to celebrate the day with us. Truly. And thank you. Thank you... for making us the bane of envy to the rest of the clan for years to come." Ambrosia guffaws and sarcastically denies the accusation. "Oh come on, you vultures! You know you will!" he taunts his fellow natives. Everyone in the room eventually calms down. "No, no. In all seriousness..." Will puts a hand over his heart in sincerity. He looks to the visitors standing with him on the dance floor. For dramatic effect he drop to his knee. "...I'm hungry. Let's eat." He stands, tosses the mic back to the emcee, and rejoins his bride. All the guests, including Camelot, burst once again at the bufoonery of the groom, and everyone makes their way back to their seats.
"Well, that was interesting. I know how Merlynn's parents were and I was expecting something, but not that, especially without Arthur here."
"You twelve all mean something. Yes, Arthur was the leader, but everything he's accomplished couldn't have been done without you. Merlynn and the knights were the protectors; Sefa's efforts turned the tide on the war and were instrumental in Arthur's success; and you queens were his greatest allies and paramount in him becoming High King, uniting all of Albion. Without any one of you he would not have been able to accomplish what he did. Trust me, you are every bit as much a hero in our eyes that he is."
"Everyone except me. I was the one he was fighting."
"You and me both, Morgana. 'Morgana and Mordred united in evil against Emrys and the Once and Future King.' Emrys was the prophesied doom of you, and I was Arthur's. We were the one's Sefa betrayed, and I'm glad she did." He gives the redhead a grateful smile. "Arthur died, but they still won the war. Can you imagine what would have happened if we had won? I'm glad I died that day. Stopped me from wreaking even more havoc on our kind and history." Mordred sinks into himself. He hates thinking about his past and legacy. How would you like going down in history as the devil? Merlynn squeezes his hand and smiles tenderly in support. He returns with a small grin of appreciation. "But the thing is, Morgana, you changed. History shows you rectified your wicked ways. The elders won't tell me anything, so I'm guessing I cannot claim the same. I am not one of the Camelot Twelve. You are. That means something."
Morgana didn't realize that. She never put the pieces together. The 'Camelot Twelve' are the champions in history, and she is one of them. She really was reformed. But he's right; Mordred never made the cut. There had to be a reason.
"It is my hope that after this lifetime I might join you," Mordred says sheepishly. "I know his highness is in a fight against Liberty. I want to help."
"Bloody hell, are you really fourteen?" asks Gwaine.
Mordred glances at Merlynn wondering how she wants him to answer.
"The girls already know, but the guys don't."
Now Elyan's ears have definitely perked up. "What's this now?"
The Goddess gestures for her warlock to explain. "Actually no, I'm not. Long story short the elders believe the Triple Goddess intervened to match me better to Merlynn. She progressed me faster than average and I'm therefore more advanced. The elders put me through a series of tests, psychological and magical, to determine my actual age, and voila, I tested twenty years."
"Twenty years?" Leon asks.
"Yes."
"That's how old Merlynn is, isn't it?" Gwaine remembers.
"Exactly."
"Well, yeah. I'd say that's a good sign." Mithian agrees.
That is a good sign. That's the problem. It could only mean one thing... Arthur's wrong.
The Triple Goddess really does want Merlynn matched with Mordred. That lines up with what Nimueh and Morgause told her. Merlynn and Arthur weren't together because of magic or destiny. They were in love, in love for fifteen hundred years. Then it occurred to her the Triple Goddess doesn't want them together. She cares more about Arthur's survival, not his love life. She orchestrated this whole thing. Maybe that's another sign she's doing the right thing. The plan calls for them not being together, and with the memory wipe no one will suffer. Even Mordred has already sworn on his magic he wouldn't hurt Arthur. He's harmless now. It's genius really. Well, what else can you expect from a high deity.
--
"I've got a question. This is changing the subject, but I think we were finished with it any way." Yeah, Mordred's twenty. Big deal. That's old news. Elena's been wondering about this since they got here. All eyes are on her. "Where are all the magical animals and stuff? You were telling us about horseback riding on unicorns and flying on dragons, and other things."
The resident Ambrosians look at each other. They were wondering if this was going to come up.
"I think we should answer that after we all have our food. It might be a little..." The warlock glances at his betrothed for assistance.
"Involved?"
"Yes, involved. That's a good way to put it. Let's go to the buffet now and we'll answer that when we're all back to the table."
Camelot eyes each other dubiously, curious as to why the natives are being so evasive. Morgana's also puzzled. She is well versed in magical creatures, and she is clueless of the reason behind the dramatics. They acquiesced anyway and made their way to the dinner line.
It's an interesting phenomenon for the group. Most have never been to an event where they had to collect their food, unless you consider a table of hor d'oeuvres. It's not that they were snobs. Even the ones who didn't grow up with money had friends who had it, and therefore participated in their affairs. The majority of the group are royalty, nobleman, or heiresses. Percy and Lance help the natives guide the rest. Once they have all been through the momentous occasion of a buffet line and have snaked their way back to their table - Gwaine, of course, carrying Elena's plate - and are all sitting, the witch pleads with her eyes for her beloved to field the question.
"All right. I guess I'm going to explain this. Have you heard that unicorns can only be around those that are pure?" Nods abound throughout the table. "Okay, well the short of it is unicorns aren't the only creatures that are like that."
"Uh... sorry mate, I'm gonna have to hear the long of it." Elyan always wants the details.
"Okay, well. It's kind of a long story, so why don't you all eat, and I'll explain." The group begins to delve into their entrées as Mordred speaks. "Long ago magic was constantly underfire, and that included magical creatures. They would fight, get a bad reputation, so others would fight them, and it just was a vicious cycle that seemed to never end. They weren't evil in their own rights. They were defensive. So, an ancient Ambrosian... actually, until we get our memories back we won't know if it was indeed Merlynn... but, well, someone was fed up with the cycle. People are one thing. There are bad people, but the person felt they could do something for the creatures. So they did. They created a sanctuary. That sanctuary is present day Ambrosia."
"But how would that work? You can't just block off an area, throw them all in there, and hope they don't kill each other." Morgana is skeptical. It doesn't make sense. They would have the first lifetime if it were that easy.
"No you couldn't. One, you couldn't force them to do anything. Two, they'd have years of pent up rage ingrained in them. It was so deep, their natural instinct was to kill. So this Ambrosian made them a deal. They created a paradise, land that no creature could resist. Now, I know what you're thinking. Not everyone has the same needs for habitat, food, weather, things like that. Well, this person was a very powerful sorcerer, and was able to create it all and match it to everyone's needs."
"Wow, that kind of power. Wouldn't that almost have to be Merlynn? I've never heard of anyone else nearly that powerful." Lance actually knows some about magic. He had a magical roommate in college who taught him. He can't perform it, but he does have a tad of insight.
"That is what we believe, but it's not been documented anywhere, so we won't know for sure until we have our memories."
"You said there was a deal. Right now it sounds a bit one sided. The creatures get their own personal utopia. What did the Ambrosian get?" Sefa works business deals all the time. There has to be equal consideration.
"That was the thing. Apparently this person had experience with a place that could purify the darkest of creatures. They remembered it and realized they could use it for this purpose. The only requirement was that the living being that used it had to willingly. Hence the deal."
"If it were that easy to clear your conscience and become not evil or whatever why wouldn't everyone do it?" All they would need is a sliver of remorse and boom, fixed. Again this is common sense. Elena doesn't understand why magic seems to complicate things.
"Because that was all the being had to do. Once they were using it, though, they had to have a very powerful sorcerer because only they could summon the White Goddess. The White Goddess' power is what does the purifying. So the deal was the creature could enter the paradise only if they were purified."
Morgana knows exactly what he's talking about, The Cauldron of Arianrhod. That confirms the Ambrosian was Merlynn. He learned of it when he had to cure Gwen of the tiana diaga. His plan was brilliant. All these magical creatures saved. She would show her respects, but they still don't know she's already a high priestess, and she can't risk reveal.
"So are you saying all those creatures are here? Now?" Leon asks. Both Merlynn and Mordred confirm his assumption. "But how can that be? You're saying all magical creatures are here in this small compound, yet we haven't seen one."
Merlynn takes over. "Ambrosia is larger than you think. The compound is for humans, but Ambrosia extends for many kilometers. We actually, I believe, have more territory than Ireland." She looks at the warlock who nods in confirmation.
"How do you get away with that? Your small population takes up more than half of their country." Mithian isn't being rude. There just isn't a way to ask nicely and receive an answer.
Merlynn's not offended. "Do you remember the unremarkable spell I used at the benefit? Only Leon and Morgana were there, but I thought we talked about it. Well, basically all of Ambrosia is unremarkable."
"I don't understand what they means. I don't think we did talk about it."
"Merlynn showed the Guard and I how it worked. She wasn't invisible. It was more she wasn't acknowledged unless someone knew to do so. Like... what was that thing you did?... Oh, the magazine! She magicked the spell over this picture then she showed it to us. It was just a crowd of people, nothing special. But then she told us it was a picture of Morgana and Arthur, we looked at it again and sure enough there they were, front and center. We only saw them if we knew to look."
"So you're saying that has been done to all of Ambrosia?"
"Yes. If anyone gets close to our land they just brush right over it. To them it's not there, not because it's invisible, but because they don't care. It's like if you are in a restaurant and Leon is sitting at a table, but you didn't know he was there, therefore didn't look for him. You could go through the whole evening and leave never knowing. To you that means he wasn't until you are told differently. We are not part of Ireland because they don't know we exist."
"But if they did know, you'd be buggered?" Elena assumes.
"No, because we aren't just unremarkable in sight, but also in thought. Any time anyone thinks about our land it will always be brushed over, like it's insignificant and unimportant. We are that island in the middle of nowhere that no one cares about. If someone told you the location of it, that it existed, do you care? No, it means nothing to you."
"But if you have resources they would care."
"But you'd have to care to take the time to verify if we have those resources. Leon, the Guard, Arthur, Morgana they cared that I was there, therefore they could see me. But if you took my picture, showed it to a random caterer, told them I was there, but he doesn't know me at all, he still wouldn't see me because he wouldn't bother to look."
"Ah, I understand now." Mithian notes. "So Ambrosia has this massive piece of land that houses all the Earth's magical creatures. I'm assuming that they took this person's deal and were purified, yes?"
"That's correct." Mordred has taken over so Merlynn can finish her food.
"Okay, I have a question. These creatures may be good now, but they still have to eat. Some of their diets are each other." Grifins particularly have a taste for people if she remembers right.
"Part of the deal was no killing, so their carnivorous ways are wiped."
"Are you saying you have wyverns that eat grass?" You've got to be kidding.
"Well, they don't all eat the same plants but yes, all of our magical creatures are herbivores."
The group has a moment of silence while they ponder all they've heard.
"But if they aren't killing each other than how do you make sure you don't get over populated?" Elyan asks.
"The Triple Goddess intervenes a lot of the time, simply taking the creature to Avalon. Other than that, death can come lots of different ways that don't include mauling." Mordred explains.
"This whole thing started because I wanted to know why we weren't seeing these creatures. I want to see a unicorn."
The Ambrosians eye one another once again, not wanting to answer, but have to.
Merlynn feels like she needs to be the one to tell her friend the harsh reality of it all. "Elena, you won't ever see a unicorn."
Ah, Morgana understands now. She knows where this is going, and she decides to relieve her friend of the burden of explaining. "It's because you aren't pure.
That's why no magical creatures are around. Because of us. Am I right?"
Merlynn and Mordred's bowed heads are answer enough.
"So you're saying every resident of Ambrosia is a virgin?" Gwaine is dubious.
"Unless they are married all the citizens have retained their virtue, yes."
Sefa remembers something interesting that was said at the meet and greet. "What about all the virgin boys that leave to learn to fuck?"
"Sefa!"
"What? No, Percy, this isn't me going all feminist again. I don't understand how you have to wait until marriage to be considered pure, yet, none of the men are pure because of your own cultural mores. I promise you, Merlynn. I'm not being rude. Just, why do the creatures accept them?"
"No offense taken. I understand. When our men come back, their handfasting is that same day. Will came back this morning, and no purified creature was present. They will accept him after today, however. It has to do with the sun. As long as he's married within one full rotation he can still be considered pure."
"So, that's it then? I'll never get to see a magical creature?" Elena is heartbroken. She also feels like a whore. Because she's had sex without a ring on it, an entire species of living beings can't stand to be around her.
"No, we aren't saying that. You won't see a purified one. There are magical creatures that didn't go through the process because it wasn't necessary. Like dragons, for example. You can see the dragons."
"Really?!"
"Well, you're capable, but we'll have to come back another time. We have to go back after the reception."
"What other creatures can we see?" Percy was secretly hoping to see a unicorn too. He's glad there are alternatives.
"Well, let's see. We have merfolk, faeries, satyrs, minotaurs, fauns, centaurs. We have a few others but they won't want to meet you. They aren't very nice anyway." Mordred doesn't even want to be around them.
"Why didn't they come to the handfasting or why aren't they here?" Leon wonders.
"They don't like crowds. We would have to go and get them and bring them to meet you. It has to be planned ahead of time. We can't take you to them because they're around the purified."
"I thought faeries were bad." Morgana distinctly remembers. Sidhe... bad.
"Yes, well. That we know was Merlynn. She doesn't remember, but they do."
"Yeah, apparently I scared the hell out of them. It had to do with Arthur. They wouldn't release him for his reincarnation."
"What'd you do?" Merlynn seriously scared the Sidhe, and they listened?
"Threatened Avalon."
"You threatened Avalon? Where we go when we die?"
"I threatened their part of it. The Sidhe hated humans so they stayed away from the souls, except for Arthur's. They kept him, and no one keeps my King from me."
Merlynn said those words with power. It sounded like when she threatened the assassin at Club Avalon. She may not remember, but Emrys does. It took the Camelot crew back. Sometimes they forget how powerful she is. They see Mordred squeeze her hand to pull her back to reality. It's obvious that whatever happened between Merlynn and the faeries was bad.
"Anyway, after Merlynn threatened them they started getting along, and they found that friendship with Emrys worked better for them than enemies. They went back to their original appearance as well. When they stopped needing to be menacing and threatening they didn't need the monstrous look anymore."
"Yes, they actually are quite beautiful now."
Sidhe, beautiful? She tried to ally with them against Arthur her first life, and they were ugly and mean. That's one hell of a transformation. And Merlynn, Merlynn threatened them, all of them? God she hopes this plan works. If not, she and her fellow priestesses will be at her mercy, and she is not confident they would fare well. "I would like to meet them."
"Next time, I promise." The Goddess grins at the priestess.
"All right everyone, our bride and groom are about to cut the cake! Gather around!" the master of ceremony announces.
"Oh, I want to see that! Come on, Mordred." Her warlock grasps her hand and they dash to their Ambrosian friends. A few of Camelot are hastening to catch up.
--
Man, if he never sees another gum drop or chocolate again it will be too soon. Arthur is bored. He should have accepted the telly offer from Merlynn. There is seriously nothing to do. He's been here, what? Hour? Hour and a half? How much longer do receptions go anyway? Plus, this is a whole other culture. Maybe they do a bunch of weird things or rituals or something, and they're gonna be gone all night. No, Merlynn knows they all have to be going back. Even if it would run that long they would leave earlier. They could also be back any second. This place is starting to feel claustrophobic... That's what he'll do! He'll go for a walk! He finds paper and pen to leave a note. Soon, the prince is in the fresh air of Ambrosia.
The stars are incredible. The aroma of clean air and the scent of flowers and trees waft through the wind. The lack of pavement or uncomfortable hard rock, just soft earth beneath your feet, you could have a barefoot stroll should you so choose. He loves all the purity, the barebones of what mother nature has provided, away from the hustle and bustle of city life, all the reliance on machines and electronics for functioning and entertainment. No this... this here... this place... is the definition of peace. And the Future King yearns for it. He craves it like a parched man in a desert. He needed this... well, not all the Mordred and Merlynn part, but Ambrosia. He needed Ambrosia.
It's a fascinating community, really. If he weren't so obsessed with Merlynn, he'd be inclined to explore more, learn more about the culture and traditions, especially the Old Religion itself. It might behoove the blonde to actually know more about the religion he's supposed to save.
Arthur continues to maunder aimlessly around the compound, basking in the serenity of it all. When his gaze drifts to the sky, however, he stops cold. Is that a dragon? Upon further inspection, the prince determines yes, it is indeed a dragon. This information takes a moment to register, then... holy shit, a dragon! An honest to god dragon! It's beautiful, all white and almost iridescent in the moonlight, but it's still a fucking dragon! And it's getting... closer? What the hell? It's headed here?! Should he run? They said they were intelligent, friendly in fact. No, he is Arthur Pendragon. He doesn't run away. He's not a coward. He pulls his shoulders back and stands tall and prepares to meet... a fucking dragon. God.
The beast... no, the civilized, wise, being that's due respect and reverence., lands directly in front of him.
"Once and Future King Arthur. I am Aithusa. You do not remember me yet."
"Uh... I guess we've met before then."
"Yes, I was hatched your first reign. I have been around for all of your lifetimes. Dragons live a very long time."
"I see. Well, good to see you again. I guess." What else is he supposed to say?
"I have come with a warning, my King. You have a friend who's foe as foe is friend."
"A friend as foe as fff... what?" What the hell does that mean? And did she mean it to be a tongue twister?
"Beware, Your Majesty. There is loyal who's traitor as traitor is loyal."
"I don't know what that means. Can I have some clarification?"
"You will soon face a battle of the likes you've never seen."
Of the likes he's never seen? In fifteen hundred years the blonde's never had to deal with... this? Whatever 'this' is? "Isn't that what I have Merlynn for?"
"Emrys is powerless against this enemy. Beware King Arthur." Aithusa stretches her wings and leaps into the air. "Beware! And remember who you are!" Soon she's just a speck in the sky.
"What the fuck was that about?" And what could possibly be too powerful for Merlynn? It has to be a metaphor. Yes, a metaphor. Isn't that what answers are to riddles? And that was definitely a riddle if he's ever heard one. Okay, he's an intelligent bloke. He can do this. The Future King is top of his class in diplomacy and politics, and bureaucrats and ambassadors are born riddles. It's like they sign contracts to get the job. 'Must be obscure and speak much while saying nothing. Satisfy with your answers while never answering the question.' He can certainly solve this. He's been training for it his entire life. Hey! That's the last part! Remember who you are. ARTHUR IS THE GREATEST KING, CHOSEN ONE, AND SAVIOR. Well, he remembers and he can do this. Okay, next part... Friend is foe as foe is friend... friend... is foe... as foe is... friend. Friend... is... fooooe. Arthur's got it! It's him! He's the foe! He's the friend! He's the loyal! He's the traitor! He's his own worst enemy, because he's torturing himself! He's torturing himself about Merlynn. The prince has to let her go. That's why she's powerless. She can't stop a battle he's having with his heart, and he does have to remember who he is. The young royal needs to stop telling himself he can't deal with his crush, his soulmate. No! He has to stop thinking of her like that. It doesn't matter that Arthur can't get her out of his mind. He can... uh... he can start watching horror movies before bed! Yes, that will work. Then he'll just have nightmares. That'll be better than this.
MERLYNN IS MY BODYGUARD AND PLATONIC FRIEND.
ARTHUR IS THE GREATEST KING, CHOSEN ONE, AND SAVIOR.
MERLYNN IS MY BODYGUARD AND PLATONIC FRIEND.
ARTHUR IS THE GREATEST KING, CHOSEN ONE, AND SAVIOR.
MERLYNN IS MY BODYGUARD AND PLATONIC FRIEND.
ARTHUR IS THE GREATEST KING, CHOSEN ONE, AND SAVIOR.
And let's not forget... his people, his people, his people!
The prince has to fight this. He will fight it. And his first battle... the reception.
--
Merlynn is swaying on the dance floor with her love. She does want to kiss him. It almost feels like it seals everything and solidifies it, like until now, it was full of holes. Should she ask? Does he even remember? It might be awkward. Mordred may not be ready. She didn't think of that. He may be twenty, but he may not have the confidence that comes with age. Yes, she should not be the instigator. Her warlock needs to be the pursuer. But what if he doesn't think she's ready? What if he thinks she wouldn't want to because of the suppresants? No, the only way this is going to happen is if they talk about it. They both need to know they are both ready... But she doesn't want it like that, all planned and scheduled. It feels so cold and unromantic. Maybe she'll just let this go. If it happens, it happens. One thing she is going to do; she is going to stop thinking about it, because she is leaving in a couple hours and she's not going to waste another minute worrying. The Goddess nestles into her beloved and draws him closer.
"Oh my goddess!"
"He's here!"
"Look!"
"What is he doing here?"
Okay, that last one was from Morgana. Merlynn has been vaguely listening to her friends and family, but it finally hits her when her fiance stops and she hears Morgana. That could only mean... Oh no! She peeks around Mordred and beholds her King standing at the entrance squirming with the attention. She should hide. Yes, hide! Maybe Camelot can get him out.She scans around for a place to go, but to her horror all the Ambrosians start sinking to one knee. Oh goddess, she has to get out of there! She tries to sneak her way through the crowd, but her people don't understand the situation and are trying to stop her.
"Where you going, Merlynn?"
"Stay here. Didn't you see?"
"The Once and Future King and Emrys!"
And that's it. He's seen her. She knows he's seen her. Everyone's kneeling on the floor, and she's on her feet sticking out like a plane in a car lot. She slowly turns to view her King, who's clearly shocked. She warned him. Their friends warned him.
Oh. My. God. That's Merlynn? Merlynn?! Who's standing practically naked on the dance floor! Why in the world did he ever think he could do this? He knows why. It was that damn dragon. This is how he's torturing himself. He doesn't have to get over her by watching her dance nude with her fiance, but he can't go now. They've all seen him. They're fucking bowing to him!
"I want to see the King and Emrys dance!"
"Oooh, me too!"
"Yeah! Dance! Dance! Dance! Dance! Dance! Dance! Dance! Dance! Dance! Dance! Dance! Dance! - - -"
How in the hell is he supposed to do this?! The Old Religion asks too much! He forces a smile. And starts edging towards the witch. Yes, good. THE witch, not YOUR witch. Stick with that and you'll be fine. MERLYNN IS MY BODYGUARD AND PLATONIC FRIEND. MERLYNN IS MY BODYGUARD AND PLATONIC FRIEND. MERLYNN IS MY BODYGUARD AND PLATONIC FRIEND. He'll just go ahead and button this blazer... and that should do it.
Merlynn sees her King approaching and eyes her warlock. He tilts his head towards Arthur and affectionately smiles. That's all she needs. If her fiance has her back she can do anything.
Everyone is returning to their seats to relax and watch the savior and Magic united again.
The prince has arrived in front of her and reaches for her hand. Merlynn takes one last look at Mordred as he retreats to the table, and then pivots back to her King. Here goes nothing. Once her hand is in his he pulls her in. "Your Highness."
"Merlynn."
"Sire, what are you doing here?"
With a forced smile to hide his gritted teeth he answers. "Stop with the highness, sire bullshit!"
He's angry with her? Oh, hell no! She gives the same forced smile. "I'm just doing as you asked, Arrthurr!"
"Well stop!"
"Fine! Now answer the question. Why are you here?"
Because apparently I thought I could handle my drop dead gorgeous soulmate making goo goo eyes at her fiance, dancing almost completely starkers in front of a room full of people. "I thought it was the right thing to do."
It wasn't. Oh goddess, it so wasn't. She knows what's ahead for the rest of the evening. He has to go. It's the only way. He cannot be here. "Arthur, it is really not a good idea. I told you this. Your sister told you this."
Who the fuck do they think they are telling him what he can and can't handle!? He's Arthur Pendragon! He can handle anything! He hopes. "I have every right to be here. I was invited, and as you saw they want me here. Fuck, they want me here more than the bride and groom! Including the bride and groom! I'm staying!"
"Fine!"
"Fine!"
They don't speak the rest of the dance. It's only Arthur's training in bullshit that guarantees none's the wiser.
Well, Ambrosians anyway.
Fun fact: This entire story was typed with one hand on my phone. I can no longer type traditionally due to hand tremors, so I use the second hand to hold the phone steady.
