As the sun rose high into the sky the next day Morgana moved her hand over the bowl of water laying in-front of her. Ending the scrying spell, she used to watch Uther Pendragon mount his horse and leave the castle and city of Camelot forever. Heading with a small group of servants to a small, but still large estate a few miles away. She watched the new king and future queen standing on the steps as the sun rose in-front of them. Watching the old king, a man that had both give and taken so much form them leave their lives for good. Not that they knew that at the time. Only the old king and the witch that watched his departure form a tent many miles away, knew this.
The hint of a laugh left her lips as she pulled herself to her feet from her kneeling position. It felt like a weight had been lifted from her. Her face then setting into a small smile. One of the few smiles that had crossed her face in years that she really meant. That was brought on by a feeling of genuine contentment. Happiness was to strong. She didn't even thinks she could remember a time when she was genuinely happy. Didn't know if she was capable of feeling happiness anymore.
Turning her head she faced the person she heard walking towards her tent. When the door flap was opened, she smiled a full smile. "Uther is no longer king."
"What have you done." Aglain asked calmly, with only a hint of worry and slight disappointment.
Morgana turned to fully face Aglain as he remained in the door way. "He has left Camelot. He will never return. By the end of the week Arthur will be crowned king."
He didn't have to ask her how she had managed to bring about this sudden turn of events. The pure power of persuasion was one that only the high priestess's had. Deep down somewhere Uther had wanted to make up for what he had done. To believe that he could maybe, in some way make peace with his daughter. That she didn't truly hate him.
"You took a dangerous risk."
"No. It was a calculated risk."
There was no point trying to convince her that her actions had indeed been dangerous, rash and could have caused more damage in the long run if it did not work out as she had planned. Once she had set her mind to something there was no changing it. He assumed this must be a by-product of growing up the way that she had, in a castle. From the limited knowledge he had of her mother, of her headstrong nature he though some of it must have come from nature as well as nurture. Knowing this area of conversation was not going to lead anywhere he changed topics to why he had come to see her.
"You have not been to see him yet."
"I had to make sure things processed as they were meant to." She tried to deflect.
"You have time now." Aglain stated the obvious.
Her eyes slide to the right looking behind him, out into the centre of the camp. "It is my day to help prepare the food." She deflected further, as she moved forward. Passing the older man as she left the tent.
"Morgana." He called from behind her.
"After." She answered without turning back to look at him.
Sitting in the circle around the small fire, she cut the vegetables that would be used later in the day. Her mind began to wonder as the chopping sound of her dagger on the wooden board felling into a rhythm. She knew that Arthur being king changed nothing for the day to day lives of her kind. At least not right now. It would take time for things to start to change. IF they changed to rapidly they could just as rapidly crumble. she had learned this the hard way. At least she felt that things were starting to be set in motion. A part of her that she forced away worried about exactly what she had just set in motion. Along with the rhythm of the chopping, the group of people around her started to sing an old druid song that she had never heard before.
Arthur's hall is mantled in the carded fleece of winter
Guinevere sits veiled in her own thoughts
Arthur laughs, but beneath the crown his hair is turning grey
And by the fire, Merlin spends his days
At the familiar names her head picked up. Rumours of the events taking place in Camelot had been spreading throughout the camp. This must be their way of celebrating the end of Uther's tyrannical rain. By looking to the future the prophecy foretold.
The portal opens and a maid as fair as apple blossoms
Enters in as all rise to their feet
Many knights stand in vain attempts to win her first attention
And by the fire, Merlin sits and waits
Hawthorn tree
Your body burns away the winter's cold
Stand by me
And shade me from the sun
My eyes are old, but still can see
Threading through as though they were the golden fields of summer
Maiden and sage meet within the light
'I have come for your power, and my name is Vivianne.'
And by the fire, Merlin knows his fate
More than any other part of the song had before, those last two line stuck in her head. Playing over and over again. At first she believed that the song was another the druids sang, based on visions, prophecy of the future. Now it was clear it was just a made up song off names that would be or were well known. Why would her mother have anything to do with Merlin.
From that day, no moment passed when they were not together
She grew in strength, as waning his grew dim
Arthur's court wondered if love or enchantment held them bound
The strange desire of Merlin and the maid
Hawthorn tree
Your body burns away the winter's cold
Stand by me
And shade me from the sun
My eyes are old, but still can see
As the song went on Morgana paid less and less attention to it. Thou she didn't return her full attention to her current task. A little to the left of the camp, away from the group that sat with her around the fire, sat an older women that she did not recognise. That in its self was not uncommon. The druids travelled around the lands. Only staying in one camp site for a month at most. They also split into smaller groups, making it easier to travel quickly if needed. So she knew for a fact that there were many druids that she had not met. Would most likely never meet. She had stayed with this group of druids since she joined them with her injured sister. She had seen different people come and go. This women however was new, yet seemed to stand out.
Then they left, as autumn's leaves upon the moving water
Camelot failed to solve the mystery
Seasons passed, and a woodsman came from distant Lyonesse
Who knew the fate of Merlin and the maid
He had seen a maiden fairer still than apple blossoms
And an elderly man walking hand in hand
They embraced, and when they parted there was only Vivianne
And one more tree was standing in the glade
The women seemed to be sewing something. There was a dark blue piece of cloth in her worn hands that she was constantly moving around. Though she didn't seem to be looking at it. Her hazel eyes looked up into the sky. As if she was looking for something that she couldn't find. The grey tint to her dark hair and the worn look on her face aroused sympathy in Morgana. Under the lines on her face, that had been worked in deeply from a life of hardship most likely, was a face that she was sure had once been quit beautiful.
Hawthorn tree
Your body burns away the winter's cold
Stand by me
And shade me from the sun
My eyes are old, but still can see
My eyes are old, but still can see
"Who is she." She asked once the women sitting to her right had stopped singing.
The slightly older women with tight blond curls, looked where Morgana had gestured with her head. Taking a minute before she answered, she let out a faint sigh. "No one really knows. She stays in this area and links with which ever camp is closest."
"Does she have magic." Morgana asked, searching the women further for any clues that would tell her more about who she was.
"No one has seen her use any. Not that I know of. Though I have heard that she was once very powerful."
"Why was." Morgana had now given up all pretence of still working on chopping the vegetables.
A new voice joined the conversation from behind the two women. "She had a daughter who she lost during the great purge. At least that is what those that have spoken to her have been able to ascertain." Aglain held out a piece of bread to Morgana from the basket he carried as he had answered her question.
"Why is she sitting on her own."
"She has suffered a great loss. One that has greatly affected her." He didn't come right out and say it, but Morgana could understand what he was trying to say.
She nodded her head, as she stood up. "Regardless she must be hungry."
Taking another piece of bread from the basket she walked slowly over to the old women. The women Morgana had been talking too was about to say something. Most likely to tell her that it would do no good talking to her, but Aglain placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her. Then gave her a piece of bread before carrying on with his task. It seemed the impetuous young witch would take any opportunity to avoid doing what she knew she could not avoid much longer.
Morgana smiled at the old women but her lips never really parted properly. "I thought you must be hungry." Holding the bread out to her, she was able to show some teeth in her smile.
The women lowered her gaze from the sky to the person standing in-front of her. Her eyes locked on Morgana's. They bore right into them, in a way that made Morgana want to turn and walk away. Her body however wouldn't move. She stood there frozen, one hand held out in-front of her, feeling like a fool. Her eyes lowered not wanting to be meeting the women's anymore. Her gaze well on the piece of blue material that she held in her hands. It was fine silk, like the kind her dresses had once been made of.
"That is beautiful-"
Before she could say more women reached out, dropped the material to the ground and took hold on Morgana's out stretched hand. Casing her to drop the piece of bread to the ground as well.
"Such pain." Morgana tried to move back, but the old women had a tight grip. "Such sad eyes. Seen so much." Their eyes met again. "Seen so much pain."
Morgana felt like she had taken a hard blow to her stomach. All air had left her body and her heart seemed to have stopped. Casing a pain that radiated from her heart throughout her body. When she was finally able to take in a deep breath and feel her heart beating again, the pain slowly left her.
"All the things you will see." The old women whispered.
Morgana finally succeeded in pulling her hand free. Stumbling back a little she found herself walking into someone. Someone who placed a strong pair of hands on her shoulders. Pulling her back, she watched the women picking up the material from the ground and returning her gaze to the sky.
"I'm sorry. I thought it would be fine." Aglain pulled her to now much quitter centre of the camp by the fire.
"What are you talking about." she couldn't help glancing back to look at the strange women again.
"She is not who you think she is." Morgana at first didn't know what he was talking about. Then it all seemed to make sense. "I don't think she even knows who she is herself anymore." Morgana lifted her eyes from the ground to finally look at him. Her eyes asking him the question. As her voice refused to say it out loud. To put that thought out into the world. "Sometimes she speaks of the daughter she lost. Sometimes she had fair hair and dark eyes. Others she had dark hair and fair eyes. Whatever happened to her, it left a deep mark."
Morgana nodded a little as she looked back at the old women one last time. Turning back to Aglain she noticed where he had subtly led her as he pulled her away. Her voice had still not fully returned to her so she simple shock her head. She was about to walk away when he spoke again.
"You may not agree with his choice, but you do still care for him."
Without thinking about it her voice returned to her. "That is irrelevant. He is wrong."
"And you have never been wrong."
"I have never done what he is doing."
Aglain placed a hand on her shoulder. "Regardless, he needs you now. As you once needed him."
There was no argument she had for that. He was right. That was how their relationship worked. They helped each other. Took it in turns almost to appear in the others life to help the other. It was a routine, a habit that she couldn't break. With a sigh she moved out of his hold, towards the opening of the nearby tent. As she did the group of women still sitting around the fire started to sing again.
Roll away your stone, I'll roll away mine
Together we can see what we will find
Don't leave me alone at this time
For I am afraid of what I will discover inside
The sun now had risen high into the midday sky. The tent Morgana walked into however was cast in dim light. No candles lit the tent made of thick dark brown material. Directly in-front of the opening was a small low bed covered with a thick blanket. She could make out the faint movement of the blanket rising and falling as he breathing in and out. She didn't look at his face. She didn't have to, she knew he would be sleeping. Taking a step into the tent she moved over to the small table to her left. The sound of the singing outside didn't fully reach her. She heard it faintly, but did not listen to it. She should have however. As it seemed it could be about her.
'Cause you told me that I would find a hole
Within the fragile substance of my soul
And I have filled this void with things unreal
And all the while my character it steals
Darkness is a harsh term don't you think?
And yet it dominates the things I see
Her hand ran over the numerous bottled that covered the table. She let out a faint sort of snort as she looked over one of the bottles. That would do him no good. It was a start at least.
"Morgana." A weak voice broke the silence that hung over the tent.
Her back was to the bed, but now she knew he was awake she felt his eyes on her. Forcing a neutral tone to her voice she replied. "Mordred."
"I didn't think you would see me."
Slowly she turned to face him. "Form the looks of this, it is a good thing I did."
Her head gestured towards the covered table, before taking a small step forward. Slowly while closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath, she pulled a small bottle from her pocket and held it out to Mordred. Her eyes opened as he slowly, clearly using much of his strength reached up to take the bottle from her, her eyes did not meet his. She was clearly unhappy about helping him. She had still helped him when it came down to it, which was something.
"Thank you."
"I didn't do it for you."
It seems that all my bridges have been burnt
But you say that's exactly how this grace thing works.
It's not the long walk home that will change this heart
But the welcome I receive with every start
"Then why-"
"I didn't want to add you to my conscience." Morgana tried to sound flippant, but he saw through it.
He let out a small laugh as he pulled himself up in the bed, to a half sitting position. The newest bottle to add to his extensive collection in his hands. From the corner of eye saw her about to move forward and help him, but she stopped herself. "I don't believe you."
Her face turned in to a hash scowl as she moved ever closer. "Just because I hate what you are doing, doesn't mean that I am so heartless as to want you dead."
Darkness is a harsh term don't you think?
And yet it dominates the things I see
Darkness is a harsh term don't you think?
And yet it dominates the things I see
"I don't expect you to understand." He too how looked on her with a cold scowl. "You don't know what it is like to live your whole life in fear." Morgana let out a sharp breath like the wind had been knocked out of her. "The very first thing I ever learned to was to hide from and fear everyone that wasn't like us. You-"
"I lived in the same place as the man that killed our people. Right under his nose. I saw what he did to our kind first hand. Had to watch as he had them hung, burnt or beheaded."
"That never stopped you…..you were brave-"
"Brave." Her voice rose before lowering to a more gentle tone as she went on. "I have been terrified my whole life. I just never had a choice in giving up. Anyone who says they aren't scared are lairs or fools." For a brief second a smile almost crossed her face. "Or both." A little reluctantly Morgana took the final step towards the bed and sat on the edge. "I don't agree with what you are doing. You are hurting yourself for no reason. You cannot change who you are."
"I'm not changing who I am. I am choosing to focus on the others parts of who I am. Not just my magic." Morgana clearly was biting back a sharp response. "Just as you did." Her eyes met his and widened on confusion. "When you first learned of your magic. You choose to learn of it, empress it. Giving up on other parts of who you were."
He didn't have to say anymore. She knew what parts of herself he believed that she had long since given up on in favour of her magic. There was also no point trying to argue with him. In part she knew that he was right. She just wished that maybe he was more right. That way all of this would be simpler, and hurt less.
"Is this in any way about the young lady that-"
"No." Mordred quickly answered. Not wanting to talk about Kara with Morgana. If he could he would keep them apart. Travelling with different groups had kept them from meeting so far. He worried what each of their anger would bring out in the other. They he feared would only fuel the other anger.
"I can't stand to watch you hurt yourself." She didn't meet his eyes as she spoke, but she reached out and placed her hand over his.
"I can't stand to watch you hurt yourself either." Once again she turned to look at him in confusion. "This hate you hold on to, it is eating away at you. You are as sick as I am. Only yours will not be cured with magic or medicine." Shaking her head and scoffing she pulled herself to her feet. "And I will get better. I am scared for you and of you."
Lowering her head to meet his eyes a cold grin crossed her face. "You are right to fear me."
Stars hide your fires
These here are my desires
And I will give them up to you this time around
And so I'll be found
Marking the territory of this newly impassioned soul
Hide your fires
These here are my desires
And I will give them up to you this time around
And so I'll be found
With my stake stuck in this ground
Marking the territory of this newly impassioned soul
"Then why are you helping me." the younger man questioned. Knowing the answer.
"You helped me accept who I was. My magic. Helped me realise that there was nothing wrong with me." Again her true feelings, her love for her came out clearly. "I don't understand how you can just push it aside. Like it is nothing-"
"Morgana."
"You are killing yourself. You think you can get better, but I don't." Admitting this for the first time, to him and herself.
Using what strength he had Mordred pushed himself up fully and lifted up the bottle she had given him. "Is that why you gave me this."
She nodded. "It's strong. Use it sparingly. It will have to last you."
"Are you going somewhere." Trepidation and fear crept into his voice as his hand fell to his side.
"There are things I needed to know. Question I need answered." He gave a slight nod of his head in understanding. "I think your right. Hate is eating away at me. I don't want to be like that. Arthur will be king any day now. Uther is gone. It is time for Merlin to finally prove himself. He has been given the benefit of the doubt all this time. Its time he proved himself."
"Where does that leave you."
"Free….and second in line now to the throne of Camelot." She added with a faint laugh.
"Barring Arthur having a son that lives to his eighteenth year."
"The throne is not my goal or problem now."
Mordred let out a sigh of relief at this. He didn't want to see her go down that path again. "What is."
"There is no point in talking anymore. You won't change your mind, neither will I." Morgana hand schooled her face to a blank expression, but softness now crept in. "I still care deeply about you. So I have to go, I can't watch you do this to yourself." He was sure he could hear a hint in her voice that let him now that she maybe close to tears.
"I hope you find what you are looking for Morgana, I really do."
She was not standing by the opening of the tent, holding the flap out of her way. Turning her head to face him she spoke one last time. "I hope you do as well."
Quickly before he had a chance to say any more she left. The sun was high in the cloudless sky. Casting a harsh bright light over the camp as a cold wind blow through the camp on the autumn day. The fallen leaf's on the ground in a wide range of orange, yellow and red crackled under her feet as she walked through the camp. She felt Aglain's eyes on her as she reached the edge of the camp. He didn't say anything and she didn't turn round to face him or say anything either. There was nothing to be said. Nothing he could do for her now. He only hoped she found what she did need. Even if it wasn't what she was looking for.
But you, you've gone
You have neither reason nor rhyme
With which to take this soul that is so rightfully mine
The same harsh light poured through the windows of the great hall a few days later as Arthur made his way towards the throne. He felt the eyes of everyone of the hundreds of people that filled the hall on him. He kept his head held high, but he felt as if there was a large weight being pressed down upon him. Even before the crown and all that is represented was placed on his head. He kept his eyes set on the throne right in-front of him. Not looking at the people on either side of him. He only turned to his right for a second as he got closer to the end of his long walk. Gwen's eyes meet his for a brief second. Giving him the support he needed to lower his head, repeat the oath. Taking on the responsibility of the crown. Because he knew she would help him carry it.
The weight of the crown, once placed on his head was not as heavy as he expected it to be. As he pulled himself up to his full height he felt the breath that he had been holding in since the doors to the great hall had been opened in-front of him, leave him. He looked first to Merlin, who stood a light to his right, wearing a bright smile. Behind him the crowed that had assembled erupted into a cheer.
"Long live the king! Long live the king."
Taking in another deep breath he turned to face his people. Searching them for a very familiar face. HE knew that Merlin and Gwen didn't believe she would come. How could they find her soon enough to tell her what was happening. Arthur had wanted to wait a little longer before his coronation, but Uther was insistent. It was important to have a quick and clean transfer of power. That was why he had said he would not be here. But Morgana had promised. It had been in teasing, but he believed she would ne here. As he slowly looked over the cheering crowd, he began to lose faith. It had been such sort notice for her to know.
Then out of the corner of his eye, to his left. About half way into the hall on the very edge of the crowd he saw her. She met his eyes, smiled a small but real smile while looking at him with pride. Just as quickly as he had spotted her, his sister seemed to disappear. He once again searched the crowd, hoping she had gotten lost in all the other faces looking to him. He never caught sight of her again, but she had been there. In whatever way, she had been there. Just like he knew she would be.
Birds flyin' high you know how I feel
Sun in the sky you know how I feel
Breeze driftin' on by you know how I feel
Its a new dawn, its a new day, its a new life for me
yeah, its a new dawn its a new day its a new life for me
And I'm feeling good
Thank you for reading. I hope that you liked it. I thought I would mention that Morgan at this point is wearing her outfit from season 5. The first song in this chapter is Hawthorn tree by Heather dale. The second is Roll away your stone by Mumford and sons. I saw a video on youtube of Morgana to the song and thought it fit her very well. It does fit exactly with the story I just wanted to try and work it in. They are also one of my favourite bands. The third one and the need is feeling good by muse. I also saw a video of Arthur's coronation with it and thought it fixed well. I don't think I am going to work songs into the text like this again. I just though it worked this time.