Chapter 3. You Were My Sunshine

Late March

In the dark before morning, castle servants propped cuts of wood against a raised platform. With a sturdy pole at its center, it would be Camelot's first pyre in many years.

Gwen watched from the side, royal cloak wrapped tight around her shoulders.

"Build it higher," she said.

The Morning Before...

Gaius barely caught the empty bowl Merlin sent skidding across their table. "Where are you going so early?"

"Kitchen duty."

Better than the alternative, Gaius thought as Merlin banged out the door. Each extra day felt like borrowed time.

Not that he saw much of Merlin. If the young man wasn't working, he was pacing the streets. A week without a word from Arthur felt stretched to breaking, and for Gaius it put him through the pain of the Purge all over again: watching his friends die or turn against him. Alice, his betrothed, had been the hardest to watch walk away.

He hoped Merlin's youth did not end a tragedy, as his own had.

The door banged back open. "Did you forget- your majesty!"

Gwen entered the room in full skirts, hair done in waves down her back, and with a strict expression. It gave him vertigo. So many times in her youth she'd walked in demure, with a smile on her face. He shocked himself with the startled fear he felt in her presence.

She grabbed hold of the door and swung it closed behind her. "Is Merlin here, Gaius?"

"No, your majesty. He just left for the kitchens."

She twisted her mouth, and he turned from his desk to face her fully, obediently placing his folded hands before him.

"This can be a fortunate accident then. Gaius…" she eyed his desk, lingering on the potions yet to be used. Little red veins stained the whites of her eyes, and the pockets underneath were padded with makeup. Perhaps he should send a stronger sleeping potion tonight.

"Gaius," she continued, "what exactly happened that night with the cloak?"

He'd asked Merlin the same question. "There is a spell to save, or create, a life, but it requires the death of another. It is a powerful spell- too powerful to control." Nimueh used it at Uther's command, and caused the birth of Arthur and the death of the Queen. "Merlin used it to save your life, but it killed your child's."

Her hands clenched and released at her sides. "Did he know what it would do? Was there no other way?"

"I believe that cloak was imbued with very dark magic. It would have taken until you were destroyed. I do not know if he… chose the life to pay. I do not think so."

"Would Ruadan or Sefa needed to have triggered it? Or could the cloak act autonomously?"

She was straight and to the point, and he had to think fast to keep up. "Most cursed objects are singular- and would not require a nearby caster. I believe the cloak was such."

Her mouth twisted. "So Sefa, innocent on all counts."

Had she said that with bitterness or weariness? "If anyone is to blame, your majesty, it is Ruadan and Morgana."

Her strict expression crumpled, and she swirled for the door. Her back to him, he could not see what emotion had borne on her face. "Send Merlin to the royal chambers this evening, Gaius."

He realized he acted with the subservience of the Gaius under Uther- no longer pretending these young rulers were the grandchildren he never had.

"Yes, your majesty."

She left at a fast pace, and he found himself thinking of Alice's honey-brown braid swinging in fury as she'd left the first time, those many years ago.

Gwen shut their room doors behind her and announced, "I didn't catch him, but he should come this evening."

Earlier, she'd told Arthur she was heading out to find Merlin.

"What are we going to do about him, Guinevere?"

"What do you want to do?" She said carefully. Arthur hadn't stopped pacing since she'd left.

"I don't know," he grumbled. "I keep going in circles."

She sat on the edge of the bed, slightly winded. Perhaps she wasn't fully healed yet, physically. Emotionally, mentally… she may never heal. But she had to start moving, start distracting herself with tasks, otherwise she may never get up again.

Arthur still paced, and while she knew her own thoughts, her own circles, she did not yet know his. "Talk me through it."

He whirled, leaning on his desk and crossing his arms. "You're right. That's a good idea."

She waited, and his brow creased as he glared at his boots. It didn't look like he was going to speak. "Start with something you're sure of."

"I'm not sure of anything," he muttered. "Well. First, it's obvious I trust Merlin to not hurt us. He's wandering around free, for the love of Camelot. But then I get so furious about everything he lied about. He freed Morgana, trapped her in a forest. Didn't keep a close enough eye on her and she nearly killed you, and meanwhile I give her the bloody Isle as a peace offering! And because of it the Sarrum tries to kill me." Arthur's entire body clenched, gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut. "So much could have been avoided if he'd just talked to me. My father's been gone a long while."

He paused then, and Gwen mulled it over. He trusted Merlin, and was mad Merlin had likely caused more problems by keeping secrets. "Following that logic, the solution is not so difficult-"

"The Sarrum being against us is a big problem, Guinevere. He is the standard on battle tactics. My father never dared to break that alliance."

"Don't snap at me, Arthur, I'm not a fool."

He blushed, "Sorry, love, I'm just frustrated."

"It's alright, just hear me out," she rubbed a hand over her chin, catching the words. "If the main problem is that he didn't give you proper warning on his actions, the solution is to make him tell you everything." Arthur scowled down at his boots. "And if you truly trust him, would you truly kick him out of Camelot? You'll have to legalize magic, or at least part of it. Healing, maybe."

Arthur's scowl darkened, then he swiveled and pounded a fist on the window sill. "It's too easy."

Too easy for what? She waited patiently for him to continue, but she only got a muttered, "it's too easy for him". Arthur was still clearly upset about something else, but hadn't said it yet. "Arthur, was there anything else? Tell me."

He scrubbed a hand through his hair, just another sign of his frustration. "I don't know what else to say. That's the problem. I can tell more things are bothering me but I don't have the words for them yet. And you know what-" he whirled back round so he could gesture at her while speaking, "if that's all it was, tell me everything and everything is golden, then why didn't he tell me earlier? Morgana knew before me. I bet Gaius knows, and Iseldir. That man has always been weird around Merlin. And you know what Leon told me? Gwaine knew. Gwaine. The man can't keep his mouth shut about anything and he knew before me!"

"That's not fair, Arthur," she said. He'd only feel guilty later if he took his frustration out on his friends.

"I know, I know," he groaned. "I don't really mean it. I don't know what's bothering me." He threw his arms out. "So we just legalize magic? I admit I probably would have gotten there eventually, it's the inevitable conclusion of having ongoing terms with the Druids. I hate being forced into it. And it's likely happening too quickly. Again, if he'd just talked to me we could have planned this out-" he muttered the last then fell back to silence, glowering at nothing.

She could see the circles a little clearer now, and could also tell Arthur would need to work this out a little further. As close of friends she and Merlin had been while she'd been a servant, he was still Arthur's best friend. It must hurt. Maybe he felt betrayed.

She herself felt only cold. She was cold steel. Steel did not hurt, did not bend when enacting punishments. "Arthur, we need to decide what to do with Sefa."

He looked confused. "Oh, right, I sent her to the dungeons when I got back."

"I'd like to put her on trial. I have an idea, but I need you to trust me."

He nodded slowly. "I trust you."

Guards dragged Sefa down the hall by an iron chain connected to cold manacles. She stumbled after, wincing at the press of pain through the bruises on her wrists.

Her heart raced with growing panic, unhelped by the lords and ladies that turned to look at her dungeon-dirt dress when she entered the throne room. No faces looked familiar, none smiled in support. She didn't see Merlin.

The guards dropped her chain and shoved her forward. Her whole body shook in terrified trembles, and her legs felt made of cloth. Her vision spiraled and she could not focus on the Queen and King on their thrones, or the amassed crowd.

She stared at a grey stone on the back wall and tugged the Druid robe Merlin had given her tight around her shoulders. It was a small comfort, though probably a foolish one. She was proclaiming to the court exactly what she was, and why they should hate her.

Guinevere flicked her fingers, and the court quieted. A small group of nobles split off and took seats at the side of the room.

The Queen spoke, "Please explain to the court who you are, and what brought you to Camelot."

"I'm Sefa," she blushed, stumbling over her own name. "I'm from the Geancy Druid tribe. It... it, uh, is a forest in northern Essetir. We were here for the Purge Trial. Me and my… father."

"Look around us, Sefa. Look carefully. Is he here?"

No…? There were only lords and ladies here, her father would have stood out in a crowd like this.

"Look, Sefa."

She turned her head on command. Even shaven, washed, and coiffed, no… her father was not here. "No, your majesty," she whispered. Why was she asking these questions? "I trust he's abandoned me."

"Has he abandoned you before?"

"No, your majesty." No, but he'd never considered her very useful.

The queen settled back with a sigh, releasing her from that sharp stare. "Is it true you lived with Morgana?"

Her head felt light. "Yes, your majesty, but—"

"And is it also true you received a cloak from her?"

"My father did, but—"

"And you delivered it to the royal household?"

"Please, your majesty, please."

The queen eyed her, and it felt like burning. Finally, she waved a hand, allowing Sefa time to explain. "We were escaping persecution in Essetir. We only stayed with the High Priestess because winter was approaching, and we had nowhere to go."

The queen had no reaction. She stared, judging.

"At the end of the winter, we left. I believed the cloak was a gift for my father."

"And did he wear that cloak?" The queen asked, dryly.

Her small hopes waned, leaving her cold. "He packed it away."

"You spent months, blind and clueless, suspecting nothing?"

"I…" she said, "I…."

"So you not only say you were innocent, but a fool?"

Her voice left her next. She whispered, "I thought it was a gift."

"A gift," the queen said flatly. "That killed the heir to the throne."

Sefa paled, mouth working.

Gasps spread through the room, people muttering.

Please, Sefa thought, tears building, blurring, please.

The queen stood, voice strong. "Life for a life. Sefa burns at dawn."

No, no, no please, her knees buckled and she fell, guards grabbing her chain and dragging her back for the door. Please no, please no, please!

Arthur watched Guinevere finish their evening meal in silence. She'd etched her rigidity from stone, but he feared it was a far more brittle strength than she hoped.

He didn't agree with her decision to kill the Druid girl, but he would not reverse her command. Only she should do that now. He understood vengeance, but after he'd cut off a king's head at Agravaine's command and nearly begun a war, he'd chosen to not partake in it ever again.

They'd have another child when she was ready, it was going to be okay. He wasn't in a rush for an heir, and they'd figure something out if needed.

He reached across the table and pressed his hand around hers. Hers still held a fork, and she narrowed her eyes at the awkward comfort.

A knock sounded, and it gave him the excuse to pull back. "Enter," he called, and Merlin slipped in. He held a small bottle in his hand, and ducked his head, sullen.

"Gaius had me bring you tonight's sleeping potion, Gwen." He waited, for a response maybe, then walked to the bedside table and left it on Guinevere's side. "He also mentioned you wanted to ask me a few questions?"

"I did," Guinevere said, pushing her bowl away. "Did you know what that spell would do to my child?"

Merlin paled, and his adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "I'm so sorry, Gwen. It's my fault, I should have tried another way to heal you… heal you both. I'd seen that spell recently, I vaguely knew how to recreate it, but I had no idea how to control it. I should have known I wouldn't be able to control it."

Merlin rambled, and Arthur noted the rambling sped up as Gwen's face remained impassive. She was not offering him forgiveness.

"I just wanted you to live, I didn't even think about who might die to save you, and what that might do to all of us. I—"

Gwen held up a hand, stopping him. "Why do you trust Morgana?"

Merlin frowned, "I don't."

"Then shouldn't we kill her for her crimes against Camelot? I can tell you're against that. Why are you against that?"

"I… this is going to sound stupid," Merlin flushed, "At first I heard a prophecy that she was our enemy, and it was right of course. But I saw a second one this past year that showed she might change and it just makes me… hesitate."

Gwen leaned back, puzzling over that. What was she thinking? He'd have to ask her later.

On the other hand, he knew why he'd had to let Morgana go. Yes, he couldn't forget he'd once considered her a sister. But largely, he wasn't strong enough to kill her himself, so a deal was his only option.

This was just another series of facts he'd run through his head all day, and it got him frustrated again just thinking about it. Had Merlin and Morgana been close, rather than enemies? They had been so odd in the forest. Why had Merlin not told him any of this?

The flowers Merlin had hid behind his back, the druid boy they'd hid in her bed– it had to mean something. "Did you work together while she was still a ward, practicing spells together? You courted her, didn't you?"

Merlin's face twisted, "I have been her enemy longer than you have. No, I did not court her," he spat the words.

"I know what I saw last week," and it wasn't pure animosity. Arthur knew Morgana, even after all this time.

Merlin pulled their empty bowls onto a serving tray, teeth grit tight.

Arthur felt his face heat in anger. What right did Merlin have to be angry? He had seen it with his own eyes. "You both hid secrets from me throughout her time in Camelot, you freed her from the Sarrum! What did you do these past months, meet up to chat about old times? In the forest I know what I saw." Betrayal. On both of their faces. And for there to be betrayal, there would have to have been trust. Recent trust.

"You, Arthur, just see what you want." Merlin finished the utensils with a clatter. "You always have."

What a frustrating thing to say when Merlin had been the one lying to him for years. Whose fault was it if he wasn't seeing what Merlin wanted him to see? "Explain the forest then."

"What do you expect me to say? I was angry she sent that cloak after us, and she was angry that I'm Emrys and then Aithusa teleported them somewhere."

"Can you not see how clear that is that you were angry she broke your trust, and she was angry you broke hers. Why did you trust her?"

"You don't listen to anything that comes out of my mouth."

"Arthur," Guinevere interjected, looking between Merlin and himself. "We all know you considered each other friends. Best friends. I recommend you don't continue this conversation until you've both had a chance to calm down."

The room went deadly silent as Merlin and Arthur glared at each other. Guinevere knew him better than he knew himself, though. She was always right.

Stiffly, Merlin spoke first. "I'm going to take these to the kitchen."

"That's probably best."

As the door closed behind him Arthur realized his hand was hurting, and he slowly uncurled his hands from a fork. He'd left a sharp indent in his palm.

He sighed, massaging it. "What is wrong with me, Guinevere? I can barely look at him."

"It'll get better," she said.

"Why were you asking him about Morgana?"

Guinevere's eyes dodged down and she frowned in sadness. What was wrong? "I'm figuring something out, can I tell you when I know? It may be a few weeks."

If that's what she needed… then of course. Of course he trusted her. He nodded, then stood. "I think I'm done with today. I'm getting ready for bed." He offered her a hand.

"I'll join you in a minute," she said.

She sat at the table until he was upstairs, and while he stared into his cabinet of sleep clothes he could hear her moving around downstairs. What was she doing?

He shook his head. This morning she'd asked for his trust, and she'd just told him to wait a few weeks. She'd tell him when she was ready.

Build it higher soured Gwen's tongue, but she swallowed the taste as she huddled in the long hallway of the prisons.

These dungeons she rarely visited, she could too easily see her father behind the bars.

But today she curled in them in the deep of the night, hiding in an alcove with a dark cloak. Waiting. If Ruadan had any honor, he'd come now.

Sefa knew she was here, of course. But the girl lay curled into a ball at the back of her cell, occasionally choking off a sob. It was pitiful. Gwen wanted to hate Sefa for her foolishness, but knew that was ridiculous. Innocence was innocence.

Still, she waited. An hour passed, then another. The moon dipped in and out of sight through the narrow prison windows, and Gwen lost hope. She'd never catch him.

"I don't want to die," Sefa whispered on another sob. "Goddess, please. I never wanted anyone to die. I never wanted anyone to get hurt."

"I was hurt," Gwen grimaced.

A clink echoed down the hall, and the door at the end clicked and creaked. Gwen tensed, this is it, he has come.

A darkened figure, tall and lean. Pale. He had something in his hands. The door closed softly behind him, the light from the guard room's torches thinned to doorframe cracks. He stepped towards Sefa's cell then froze. He'd seen Gwen, in the darkness.

And she'd seen him. Merlin.

In Merlin's hands were a sandwich and a vial, and she finally admitted Ruadan would not come tonight.

Gwen slouched, the long night's aches more apparent. She waved him onward.

Merlin looked between Sefa and Gwen, but obeyed quietly. "How are you holding up?"

The girl wiped at her face and nose, approaching the bars. "Thank you for the cloak."

"I've got one last gift," his eyes shot to Gwen, but returned to Sefa's small hands poking through the bars. He laid the sandwich in one then held the vial up and shook it. "A powder," he said. "To help with the pain. The sandwich is for the taste and nausea." He placed the vial in her palm and her fingers curled around it. "Eat it at dawn. It should take about an hour to kick in."

Very dramatic, she thought. Merlin could really lay it on thick.

Sefa finished sniffling, and her thank you was tinny in the quiet.

When Merlin turned from the bars, he found Gwen's form in the darkness. Merlin glanced at Sefa and spoke, "I know I've helped the Druids, but they—"

"I don't care about that Merlin. I don't much care that you have magic, or even that you lied." She tensed, "I may eventually forgive you for saving my life and not my child's. But I will never forgive Morgana. I will make her pay for her crimes against me, or I will make her fix them herself."

She needed to know if she could trust Morgana. For the sake of an heir, she had to know. "Forget Arthur for now, but would you trust her? Truly?"

"I am not lawful," Merlin said, "but I try to be moral. Morgana does not deserve our trust, not yet."

"Then why protect her? Why have you protected her? A prophecy is a children's tale, Merlin." Why not kill her when he had the chance?

A wry smile crossed his lips. "Do you think my answers will let you sleep, if they also lead me to the prison cells in the late hours of the night?"

Not so long ago they'd stood next to each other in a crowded party, smirking at each other as Morgana and Arthur played lords and ladies.

"I'm not going to yell at you so that you feel less guilty," it came out harsh, and so killed the blameless man and maidservant from their shared past. "If you want to suffer for your vague crimes, do that in your own time. Answer my question."

The manservant gone, his shape in the darkness was not contrite, nor fearful. He was something… different. "I am sick of prophecy, because those who speak it believe they know the whole truth. I have heard Morgana is darkness incarnate, and I have seen a vision of peace. One dragon wants her dead, while the other implies her death means our own. I do not know what to think. But for Aithusa I give her chances."

Chances. "So you will not interfere."

"What do you plan?"

She hardly knew. But she'd find some way. In one month I'll know for sure.

She turned for the exit, before her composure broke. In one month I'll know if Morgana's slime is permanent or not.

"Gwen, please. Don't endanger yourself over her narcissism."

So he was the expert on Morgana, now, was he? Had he been changing her sheets since childhood?

"Focus on your own plans, Merlin. Of late, yours are all falling apart."

Sefa's sandwich clumped in her mouth, the chalky and bitter powder far outweighing the day-old bread.

She didn't feel any of the numbing effects yet, but it may be too early. The crevice of a window in her cell had only just begun to lighten. Her knees ached, but she stayed kneeling, facing the window above her, almost prayerful.

She would die today.

Sefa wiped at the corners of her mouth, clumsily missing her first try, then scraped at the smelly gunk building between her teeth. They thought she deserved to die, yes, but no point in them also thinking she was a mess.

Her arms tired quickly, and she dropped them back to her side. What did her teeth matter? She wasn't going to be smiling.

The window yellowed, the sun too far for her to share its warmth. She could hear talking, but no words. Far behind her, something scraped.

More voices, but as if they were underwater. A gloved hand lifted her by the armpit, and her body followed, limp. She couldn't get her feet underneath her.

They drug her forward, men in glinting silver armor. Light bent off of it. It was shiny and distracting. Her boots bumped on the ground, and her dress caught beneath her. It was uncomfortable, but they were all moving too fast. By the time her foot was up they were already pulling away.

At the end of the sloped hallway sunlight and fresh air poured in, and Sefa gulped in lungfuls. The sun tasted warm and thick and reminded her of fresh laundry.

She could hear the river. It roared, twisting around corners, burbling. Were they going to drown her?

They swung around a corner and it wasn't a river, but a crowd. Dozens of villagers, and kids pushing through the crowd to be closer to it. The pyre. Tall, proud, and stoic, stood her pyre. A fitting gateway to the Triple Goddess.

She dropped to her knees on the wooden platform. The boards were hard and dry, and their sun-soaked warmth felt nice on her joints. She'd spent too long curled on cold stone. Stone felt so impersonal. Wood, at least, reminded her of home.

Someone yanked her to her feet, and the ropes she hadn't noticed being tied held her up against the pole.

There were people talking, perhaps to her, but it was far too difficult now to make them out. She was drunk with the sun. She basked in it, letting it spill across her face and pretending it seeped into her bones.

She was warm all the way through for the first time, since when? Days.

It was too hot, but of course it would be too hot.

She squeezed her eyes tighter shut and imagined the sun warming her from the inside out.

Gwen scanned the crowd, left to right, right to left. She scanned the shadows, watched Leon's face who had set the knights to watch as well, and finally gave up. Gave up for the last time.

Ruadan wasn't coming, he had abandoned his daughter.

She waved a hand, and a guard looked up at her. "Douse the flames."

He and the others complied swiftly, and biting smoke billowed outward. The wind blew it towards Gwen, and she had to step back as it stung her eyes. Arthur sent her a questioning look.

"Bring her to our chambers," she said to him. He shrugged, then stepped out through the smoke to direct the guards. Sefa was stumbling as if drunk. Her head swung back and forth like a glob of molten metal on too thin a rod.

Gwen turned to walk back inside, trusting the guards would follow with Sefa, and she saw that Merlin had snuck into the shadow of the grand doorway. Their eyes connected as she swept past, but she didn't offer an explanation. She hadn't done this for him.

She glanced back, and as Sefa was drug past Merlin her back straightened and her face cleared. He'd removed the drug with a spell- breaking the law again, but why would she have expected him to stop?

As they reached their chamber doors, Gwen put a hand on Arthur's arm. "I want to speak with her alone."

He furrowed his brow at her. "Will you at least tell me what you're thinking?"

"I barely know what I'm thinking, Arthur," she sighed then used a gentle push to set him away from her. "Please."

Arthur saw Sefa to a wooden chair in the middle of their rooms, gave her one more worried look, then left, closing the door behind him.

Sefa sat with her head bowed, her frayed brown braid hanging over her shoulder. Her dirty pale dress stunk from her time in prison, and the green Druid cloak twisted in her fingers. Sefa was young, not much younger than Gwen herself, but so naive.

"Do you still have any loyalty for your father?"

"I'll… love him always," Sefa dashed tears from an eye and left a grimey smear across her face. "But I'll never trust him again."

"Does anyone have your trust?"

Sefa cast fearful eyes at her. No, girl, I don't expect you to trust me. "Merlin, maybe."

"If I let you go, where would you go?"

"...Iseldir's camp?" Sefa ducked her head, too afraid to hope.

A Druid girl, with no magic. Used to being treated as a pawn. When Gwen had first met Sefa, she'd looked right past her to her father, Ruadan. It was foolish of her. Sefa was no less than Gwen had been– a serving girl and blacksmith's daughter. Anyone could shake the world.

"Would you like a job?"

Sefa started. "As what?"

"I'm in need of a maidservant, and I'd rather keep you close."

"Keep me close… your majesty?"

Choose to kill her again? No, she'd only ever been bait. "Perhaps your father will show his face someday. Until then you'll work in a pair. Have the Reeve pick another woman to work alongside you. Someone who will keep an eye on you. Do you accept?"

She swallowed, but nodded. "I accept."

She accepted, and Gwen did not feel better. Would she ever feel anything but this coldness again? Did she want to? The grief, the regret… it could tear her apart.

Isn't it all my fault, though? Not Ruadan's or Morgana's, but my own? I jumped in front of that cloak. I nearly killed us both, but instead I've only killed you.

Maybe you live somehow, with my parents. If you do, I hope you're with them.

I am so sorry, my baby. I am a fool.

Despair rolled over her with the sudden sharp slap she'd grown familiar with these weeks. She did not turn from Sefa fast enough. The girl saw her crumple, and rose to comfort her. Silly girl, I called for your death just yesterday.

Sefa's arms wound around her, and her cheek pressed against Gwen's shoulder blades. "I do not understand your pain, your majesty, but I will do what I can to help you through it."

The girl began to sniffle, sad over her own abandonment surely, but selfishly Gwen enjoyed the company. Her tears were not so lonely, now.

Jersey on the Wall sung by Tenille Townes

Footnotes:
1) In Part 2, Sefa and Ruadan accidentally run into Morgana's prison with the Leshy. They spend some time with her, and when they leave Morgana makes a dark magic cloak that she tells Ruadan to use on her enemies. In the end of Part 2 Ruadan chooses to deliver it to Emrys, but Gwen instinctively jumps in the way.
2) Also at the end of Part 2, Merlin forces Morgana to show him the past using her Sight. He's able to see the spell Nimueh used to give Ygraine Arthur, but at the cost of Ygraine's life. Seeing Gwen dying, he chooses to use it to save her life.
3) Also at the end of Part 2, Ruadan runs away into the forest. He is currently alive but his whereabouts are unknown.

I have fortunately never lost a child, so I'm sure Gwen's emotions do not feel right for anyone who has gone through that terrible pain. I've lost people to surprise death's though, and personally I cycle through guilt, rage, what if's, and acceptance. If anyone has recommendations on how better to write Gwen, I welcome it. Meanwhile, this is a world with magic, and so Gwen can get what she's owed. She deserves triumph after this pain.

I am also curious about your thoughts on the Merlin / Arthur / Gwen dynamic.

Next time: Crystal Clear. The Isle and its goals progress as someone threatens them. Whose side will they choose?