Chapter Three
The Dagger of the Sister Three
–
Love is friendship set aflame.
–
Morgana slowly and carefully ran the tip of the dagger she'd secretly confiscated from the back of Arthur's chair across every line upon her palm. It was hypnotically handsome, the metal blade was immaculate, no scars or indentions could be seen. It was designed to perfection, small vines were carved in the thin handle with a dark yellow, almost gold-colored, trapezoid shaped stone at the rear of the bolster. Two quillions propelled out from shoulders of the knife, the arms ended halfway down the blade like two razor sharp fangs to deliver the fatal stab. Even in the darkness of night there was no denying this dagger was innate. Morgana delicately drug her fingertips across the double-edged blade, and gasped slightly as engravings appeared in the wake of the path her skin had made atop the metal. Yanking the sole candle Gwen had left upon her nightstand closer, Morgana desperately tried to make out the writings she had unintentionally created. The lettering began to glow gold in a haunting manner to match the rear bolster. Squinting she whispered the words aloud:
I, a loyal guard of the sisters three,
swear my life though faithfully,
my blood I give of the religion old,
my allegiance neither bought nor sold.
Now, granted, I am for this blade,
to honor my ladies, the priestesses:
Morgause, Morgana, and Elaine,
For then, for now, and forever
they shall remain.
The dagger abruptly fell from Morgana's hand as she released a loud gasp, accidentally cutting her hand just below her thumb. As soon as her blood touched the tip, the entire blade began to glow the very color of the bolster's rear. It gracefully began to hover off her mattress, elegantly positioning itself as if it were about to deliver the final blow to her comforter. She couldn't move, think, breathe, all those necessary things a human should have the power to do in any and every circumstance. What had she done? She knew she shouldn't have taken the evidence of the witch's feeble attempt to kill Arthur. Why on earth did she feel so drawn to the stupid dagger? It was like an invisible force had commanded her to take, to examine it, to treasure it. She now regretted submitting to the urges she felt within. Apparently, her moronic inclination was about to get her killed.
Morgana's heart was beating so fast that she swore she could hear its repetitive thumping through her chest like a hummingbird's wings. Her eyes saucers, shivering so fiercely it almost seemed as if she was seizing. Suddenly, the gem that decorated the butt of the dagger began to separate from the rest of the dagger, hovering in the air just a few inches above the remainder. It began to glow as if a flame was inside its center. Then, with no prior warning, the dark yellow stone disappeared into thin air. The place where the stone had once been secured was instantly replaced with a simple metal but that seemed to have melted into a perfectly smooth silver surface to match the rest of the knife. The dagger fell with a thud onto her mattress, leaving Morgana stunned and confused on what just happened to her and what she was supposed to do now.
Before she could plan her next move, she felt a slight weight being placed upon her chest. Looking down, Morgana's eyes grew ever wider at the sight of the very same yellow stone that had been a piece of the mysterious dagger now hanging on her neck. Without a second thought, Morgana gripped the stone and yanked it with all her might. The thin gold chain that held it around her neck appeared as if it would break with the slightest tug, but looks can be deceiving. All Morgana gained from pulling on the gem was giving herself a neck ache. She became frantic, yanking and tearing at the chain to cause it to snap. She resorted to pulling the chain over her head but every time she tried to rid herself of the necklace the chain would magically shrink to a point where it almost choked her, preventing it from fitting over her skull. However, as soon as Morgana released it, the chain instantly uncoiled and hung loosely down her chest again. Snatching up the discarded dagger in a fit of desperation, she tried to saw the chain in half to no avail.
Referring to Morgana as panic stricken would be an understatement of great proportion. She was insane with fright and confusion, paying no mind to her wounded palm. All she could think of was getting this enchanted necklace off her neck, and why exactly her name was listed on the magical dagger, or who Morgause and Elaine were for that matter. Sisters? Priestesses? What in the would was that supposed to mean? It must be a different Morgana. It wasn't impossible, far from it in fact. Morgana wasn't an uncommon name. Over the years she had met at least two others with her same name, three maybe! Yes, this was a simple coincidence and nothing more. She had no sisters, nor was she a priestess by any means. Morgana still had the very problematic circumstance of the enigmatic jewel around her neck. What if it had powers? What if it could hurt her? She was shivering with terror.
"Lady Morgana?"
A knock at the door caused her to freeze in her attempts to sever her unwanted necklace. She swallowed hard, hoping the intruder would leave. No such luck, however. The knocking continued. Morgana hastily took to her barefeet, slipping the stone portion of her necklace into her bosom so the thin silver chain was barely visible to the naked eye. She then grabbed the dagger and slid it in between her mattresses, pulling down her comforter neatly over the side. Morgana strode towards her entrance and rather unnaturally pulled open the door. She was out of breath, bleeding, and undeniably frazzled-looking. Merlin's eyes grew wide at the sight of the door swinging open so abruptly and simply at the sight of the usually composed and confident Lady of the Court. He sent her an uncomfortable grin and held up the reason for his visit, a small bottle of sleeping draught.
"Merlin?" she said, out of breath.
"Milady, I'm so sorry to have disturbed you–"
"You didn't disturb me," she lied hastily, and Merlin knew it. "I was– I mean, I was just waking up from a nightmare, so you're timing is impeccable."
"My apologies for not arriving earlier," he said gently, handing her the potion Gaius had asked him to deliver. "I wish I had arrived before you fell asleep, so you could have eluded your discomfort. Arthur just has me so busy–"
"Is he giving you any grief?" she asked in an almost defensive manner for the young man. Morgana suddenly noticed how tired and how almost uneasy Merlin seemed. Her face instantly softened from the rigid and tense expression she had been sporting in the beginning.
"I appreciate your concern, milady, but Prince Arthur deals me nothing I cannot handle," he smiled thankfully.
"Yet you seem troubled," she replied gently, tilting her head slightly to the side.
"I'm fine," he said quietly. "It's only that Arthur just informed me that my duties now include using me to help him fine tune his swordsman skills before his morning training sessions with his knights. Which means–"
"Which means you've become his personal practice dummy?" she concluded, smiling compassionately up at the tall yet feeble figure.
"Precisely," he nodded solemnly. "You understand me being a bit ill at ease once it is taken into account that the last time I wielded a sword was when I was seven... and it was wooden."
Morgana laughed lightly despite her current turmoil.
"Has he asked you to put on his armor yet?" she inquired, beckoning him inside her chambers.
"Not yet, but he's had me polish it a dozen times in last twenty four hours," he shrugged humorously, following her inside.
"You'll need to learn how to manage dressing Prince Prat in his suit of armor if you want to avoid further ridicule," she explained with a tinge of distaste on her tongue. "Arthur thinks it beneath him to dress himself in his own chainmail."
"Oh," he muttered.
"I'm certain Gwen would be more than happy to assist you," she suggested, striding behind her curtain and continuing their conversation whilst hidden. "Just ask her in the morning if she has a moment."
"I will be sure to do that," he replied.
"But a talented swordsman, however, can be hard to come by," she went on. "Especially when you'll be going up against someone as talented as Arthur, as much as I hate to admit it. Though I think I can manage a last minute training session for you with one of the few people I know of who have ever been known to have beaten him in hand-to-hand combat."
"Really?" he said hopefully. "You'd do that? Do you think they'd be able to help me this late?"
Morgana pushed back her curtains and stepped into the dim candlelight. She was wearing what could only be described as high fashion armor. Merlin smiled fleetingly at the sight of Morgana. She wore a thick metal belt that was thin around the waist and collected in a large silver plate in the front with the Pendragon emblem. Even in something so typically unattractive made her look as if she was in a gown fit for a queen. Tying her wavy hair into a side ponytail, she smiled proudly up at Merlin.
"Of course, and I will," she smirked. "Now, come on."
Morgana hurried forward, grabbing Merlin by the wrist and pulling him gently out of her chambers. She had a childlike grin on her face as she led Merlin through several corridors and secret doors and staircases the new inhabitant of the castle didn't even know existed. They dodged several guards who were patrolling the castle, exchanging humored half giggles every time they outwitted a burly knight who didn't spot them lurking in a dark nook or behind a stream of curtains. Merlin was exhausted beyond recognition and Morgana's worries were too overwhelming to comprehend but at that moment nothing else mattered. At that moment they were together and everything else seemed to fade into nothingness.
"This way," Morgana whispered fiercely, a hypnotizing gleam in her eye.
She led Merlin up a long narrow staircase in the north tower, snatching a lit torch along the way. Inside was just a surprisingly large empty room with arguably the largest open window the castle possessed. The moonlight illuminated the cavernous chamber and with the addition of the torch's flame being passed on to several other light fixtures, it almost seemed as if daylight had arrived early. The only objects in the room besides Merlin and Morgana was an old chest, an enormous bookshelf, and a couple dust ridden arm chairs that were covered by a tinted sheet from age. Morgana took no time unhinging the top to the prehistoric-looking trunk. She pulled out two swords that were both concealed under what looked to be pillow cases. She smiled to herself as she brushed away several years of grime. Merlin released a couple sneezes that Morgana for some reason found to be adorable.
"What is this place?" asked Merlin in between sneezes.
"This, Merlin, is the Cave of ArMor," she smiled fondly, striding to the stone wall and rubbing her hand atop the surface. An engraving appeared behind years of dust It appeared to have been scratched in by a child, judging by the penmanship.
"You mean armor?" he said with an upward inflection.
"No, I meant Ar-Mor," she laughed, sharing a joke with herself. "Arthur created the name. You see, we came across this place when I was visiting, before my Father passed. We must have been no more than seven... maybe younger. We spent the whole day in here, play fighting with these dulled swords and all sorts of games. When I came to Camelot to live years later I was having a difficult time adjusting without my Father, and Arthur brought me back up here to remind me of the good times we shared and he deemed it the Cave of ArMor because he saw it an even compromise. His name came first, but I hold more letters in the name... it made more sense at the time. It's silly, I know–"
"No," he insisted, hating to hear childhood memories she shared with Prince Prat. "It's not silly, it's... it is er– charming."
Charming? He wanted to kick himself. Who in the right bloody mind says charming in an instance like that? Morgana smiled, however, and placed her injured hand thankfully on Merlin's upper arm.
"Don't tell Arthur that," she smirked, pulling her hand away though Merlin wished she wouldn't. "He can barely fit his thick skull through the corridors as it is. I fear if his ego is fed anymore then he will surely lose his ability to walk. It's a wonder he manages to balance that big head of his upon his shoulders now."
Merlin smirked at her response before they both realized that a significant bloodstain in the shape of her thumb, index and middle finger had remained behind upon his brown faded leather jacket. Merlin instinctively grasped Morgana's hand to examine the source of the blood. She twinged slightly, realizing just then how badly her cut did hurt. The thick red liquid was slowly trickling down her fingertips and made a tiny pool between them.
"My Lady, you're injured, what happened?" asked Merlin fretfully. She quickly pulled her hand away, embarrassed.
"It's nothing," she said. "I just dropped a mirror not long before you arrived at my door, and I must have cut myself by accident trying to clean it up."
"Here," said Merlin, untying his blue bandana. He took her palm in his again and tightly tied it around her delicate palm. He couldn't help but wonder if his simple bandana was the most inferior linen she's ever felt against her skin.
"Thank you, Merlin," she smiled thankfully.
"We don't have to do this now," said Merlin kindly. "If you're injured–"
"Nonsense," she replied with much energy in her voice. She picked up the second sword from behind her and tossed it to Merlin. He awkwardly held onto it, coming dangerously close to dropping it to the floor. "I've fought much more afflicted than this, and I fear if we do not then you could receive much more than a scratched palm at the hand of Arthur Pendragon."
"You're sure?"
"Rule #5 of battle, Merlin," she teased. "Never sympathize with your enemy, they will always betray you."
"But you're not my enemy," he replied helplessly.
"Yet," she corrected him, referring to her status as his opposition, "but I will be."
"Alright," Merlin nodded.
"Oh, and you'll need this too," said Morgana.
Morgana turned her back to Merlin and pulled out an old wooden shield. The young warlock didn't manage to catch this object Morgana tossed at him. In fact he dropped the sword he'd been holding so inelegantly as well. Fumbling to pick them back up, Morgana eyed him up and down with her haunting green eyes.
"Hold the shield in front of your chest and your sword next to it with your arm slightly bent," Morgana instructed as her Father, Gorlois, had done so to her when she was barely big enough to hold a weapon. "This is the ready position."
Merlin obeyed and with a bit of assistance from his instructor, he transformed into a temporary warrior. Yeah, he laughed at the idea too. Morgana casually strolled around her student, judging his posture intently. She gently placed her hand over his and adjusted his grip. Morgana felt a disconcerting warmth seeping from her hidden gem. It frightened her slightly, wondering why this heat radiated from this mysterious stone when she placed her palm upon this simple servant's. She quickly pulled away, matching Merlin's blush. She cleared her throat and backed away to stand before Merlin.
"Always ensure that your body is balanced and properly positioned, to make the most powerful moves as well as parry effectively," she explained. "Make good judgment of the prevailing conditions. A clever fighter will quickly analyze all the weak and strong points of the opponent, keep a keen eye because Arthur has few."
"What would an example of his flaws be?"
"Well, let's just hope a pretty girl walks by," she smirked. "That's the only reason he ever breaks concentration."
"Oh, alright," Merlin grunted, feeling a bit more nervous.
"But you always must be able to make a quick assessment of the surroundings with respect to his aiding and detrimental factors in the initial stage of the fight," Morgana went on. "The difference between two fighters is not based on their skill and expertize alone, but on how well they read the other fighter and the surrounding conditions. Always charge and attack with a great deal of confidence but a level-headed approach. Never get excited or carried away, during the course of a fight."
"I can assure you, milady," Merlin began. "I will bare no excitement."
Morgana laughed lightly and continued.
"Concerning your form, your elbows should not be stretched, but bent towards the body. It is the sword which has to be extended in the direction of the opponent and not the arms," she explained. "Stand perpendicular to your opponent, with the sword directly pointed at the opponent. This will ensure that minimum part of your body is facing the opponent with a decreased chance of getting hit. Accuracy and agility are the most crucial elements of a sword fight and determine the outcome of a fight. Therefore, even if your opponent has a better weapon or power, your supple movements and skill will give you a big edge in a sword fight."
"So do you think I could have a chance at beating Arthur?"
"Er– no," she admitted, smiling apologetically, "but I think you could manage a couple decent blows to his body and ego alike if you follow my instructions. Now, let me teach you first position."
–
Morgana wielded her sword high above her head, striding forward and causing Merlin to strategically duck behind his shield. She thrust her blade forward, clanging against Merlin's shield again. He pushed her sword to the side and effectively thrashed his weapon against her unsuspecting shield and succeeded in knocking Morgana onto her backside. He instantly dropped his weapon and shield to help Morgana up, feeling so terribly for potentially injuring her. However, before he could even ask if she was alright, Morgana hopped up with a wider smile that Merlin had ever seen. He almost fell onto his own backside when Morgana blindsided him with a quick hug before pulling away and looking up into his fierce blue eyes.
"Merlin!" she exclaimed, out of breath. "That was brilliant!"
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to–"
"Don't apologize!" she beamed. "For only having a couple hours of training... I mean, that was marvelous!"
"Really?" he asked bashfully.
"Really," she insisted, nodding her head once. "How about we take a breath for a few minutes? I know you must be tired."
Merlin nodded his agreement and followed Morgana to the large open windowsill. Morgana hopped up and pulled her knees up against her chest, propping her chin upon her knees as she looked out onto the city. Merlin climbed onto the edge, hanging on leg outside and one planted on the floor. He kept glancing over at the expression on Morgana's face every few seconds.
"This is my favorite spot in the entire castle," she said whimsically, her eyes sparkling. "It's the best view of the city, without contest."
"Yeah, it's beautiful," he breathed, looking at Morgana rather than the dimly lit city. She didn't need to look over at Merlin, she could feel his gaze on her. She blushed, biting her lip to fight a smile.
"You know, there really is something special about this place," she said quietly, spotting an woman in the distance pulling a car into her home and pondering how different they really were. She drew her gaze onto Merlin who was now intently staring at the city below. "I would have rather died than live here when I was young, but I have gained an appreciation that is unimaginable."
"The circumstances... I mean, it must have been hard being so young and all to have to be uprooted and taken to a new home so abruptly," said Merlin awkwardly. "I'm sorry you had to go through something so traumatic like losing a parent."
Morgana swallowed hard, genuinely thankful she had met Merlin. She liked him a lot even though they'd known each other for only a few days. She liked him a lot actually, maybe a bit too much.
"Yeah, my Father and I were very close," she explained quietly. "I mean, I lost my Mother at birth so I don't really remember her, but when I lost my Father... it was hard. What about you, Merlin? Are your parents still alive and well?"
"I never met my Father," he shrugged. "I don't even know his name, my Mum never talked about him, and it was a subject that I never felt comfortable bringing up to her. My Mum still lives in Ealdor, where I grew up. It's nothing much, most people don't even know it exists. It's just a small village with a couple hundred people, the winters are cold, but the people aren't, and it's just home."
"It sounds wonderful," said Morgana genuinely. "Your mother must be a strong woman to raise you on her own."
"It's a lot different from Camelot," he continued. "That's for certain, but that's not necessarily all that bad sometimes, and yeah, she is and I'm lucky to have her."
"Camelot is lucky to have you," said Morgana before she could stop herself.
"Thanks," said Merlin awkwardly.
"Merlin, I–"
"Who's up there?" a burly voice echoed.
The distant glow from the North tower must have alerted the guards. The clanging of their armor could be heard growing nearer along with their footsteps. Merlin and Morgana froze, their necks both jerking to share worried glances. Gaius would kill Merlin if he drew anymore unwanted attention onto himself, and Uther had made it perfectly clear that if Morgana stepped another toe out of line that she would suffer his wrath. Merlin panicked, knowing the only way out was through the very door the guards were running up. A wily smile grew on Morgana's face as she snatched a torch and gripped Merlin's hand in hers, dragging him towards the bookcase. She pulled down on an emerald green hardback and the bookcase instantly began to turn open. Morgana pulled Merlin inside and pushed the opening shut just as the guards stormed in through the door.
Merlin didn't expect another hidden staircase to e concealed behind the simple bookcase. Morgana led him down the dark and narrow staircase, using a simmering torch as their only light source. Morgana felt the warmth of her stone necklace upon her chest begin to heat up again as she kept her hand tight within Merlin's to lead him deeper into the castle. Merlin's hand tingled from the sensation of her skin against his, a feeling he wished would never fade. They walked for what seemed like an eternity until they came to a fork in the stairs. One option was a heavy wooden door and the other looked to be a second bookshelf.
"Alright, we are presented with a difficult situation," said Morgana quietly. "The door is locked, it has never been used since my first trip here. Our only other option is sneaking through this bookcase."
"What's wrong with that?" he inquired.
"The bookcase opens into Arthur's chambers," she smirked.
Merlin immediately pushed himself desperately against the locked door, twisting the knob like mad. Morgana snorted a laugh and gently pulled a lever next to their only other means of escape. She put her index finger to her lips and beckoned him to follow behind her.
Arthur was asleep, they could tell by the boar-like snoring that rang throughout his large bedroom. They tiptoed towards the door, cringing every time Arthur would swallow or snort. As quietly as possible, Morgana unlatched Arthur's door. She apparently was quiet enough because Arthur abruptly shot up from his slumber, still half asleep.
"Morgana?" he yawned lethargically. "Merlin?"
"Silly Arthur," said Morgana, no fear in her voice. "You're dreaming."
"But you're..."
"If you were awake, why would Merlin and I be in your chambers after midnight?" she replied gently.
"Oh, right," he said, collapsing back onto his mattress as if he's fainted. He began to snore as soon as he head hit his pillow.
Morgana rolled her eyes and motioned for Merlin to sneak out before her. They quietly closed the door behind them and darted towards Morgana's chambers, hiding from more guards along the way. As soon as they reached Morgana's chambers they slammed the door behind them, locking the latch and collapsing against the door beside one another. They allowed their backs to fall against the door as they sunk to the floor. A minute passed before they regained their breaths. They looked at each other at the same time and burst into a fit of laughter. Their laughter didn't last long, however, for a knock on the door brought them to an instant silence.
"Morgana?" it was Arthur, clearly awake now.
Morgana pointed wordlessly to her changing curtains. Merlin stumbled to where she had pointed and quickly pulled the heavy violet curtains around him.
"Morgana, I know you're in there," Arthur knocked, annoyance in his voice.
Desperate times called for desperate measures. Morgana pulled her clothing off, thankfully till wearing the white slip she had tucked into her pants that had previously been worn under her nightgown. She untied her hair, threw her discarded clothing under her bed, and grabbed her robe from atop the hook beside her door. Running her fingers quickly through her hair, Morgana tried to put on a face as if Arthur had woken her from her slumber. Pulling back the door, Morgana released a melodramatic yawn and rubbed her eyes.
"Arthur?" she yawned. "To what do I owe this displeasure?"
"I had a strange dream," he said, looking her up and down and seeing straight through her facade.
"Arthur, don't you think you're a bit too old and bit too male to have to seek me out whenever you have a bad dream," she replied curtly.
"Oh, don't even go there," he retorted. "You tell me about some nightmare you have about me at least once a week... but, that isn't why I'm here."
"Well, then spit it out already," she frowned. "I was sleeping."
"We both know that's not true," he said fiercely. "You were in the North Tower, and you snuck back through my bedroom like you used to."
"Those are some serious accusations," she snapped. "Where is your proof?"
"The guards woke me up just a few moments ago to inform me we had some intruders in the North Tower, and my dream seemed to verify who exactly that intruder was," he went on. "Why were you up there, and did I lose my mind or was my servant with you?"
"You've lost your mind," she said. "Anyone could have been up there, and you more than anyone I know think dreams are nonsense."
"It wasn't a dream," he argued. "I was awake!"
"You've lost me," said Morgana, acting oblivious and tilting her head to the side and narrowing her gaze. "You had a dream while you were awake?"
"I– no, I mean that I–"
"What exactly?"
"I saw you!" he exclaimed.
"Yes, I'm right in front of you," she said slowly, condescending him.
"No, in my bedroom," he insisted.
"Now you're accusing me of being in your chambers after hours?" she said, releasing a faux gasp. "How dare you insult my honor."
"You and I both know neither of us have been honorable in years," he smirked, winking at her. Morgana rolled her eyes and released a huff of air.
"Only in your dreams," she said cheekily, "and my nightmares."
"Oh, very funny," he sighed. "Just go to bed, and try to keep out of trouble at least until morning."
"Yes, sire," she teased, moving into a mocking curtsy. Arthur was just about to stomp away in an annoyed fury, but he paused when he saw a bloody wrap around Morgana's palm. He reached out and grabbed her hand to examine it.
"Are you alright?" he asked, concerned, eyeing the immense amount of blood that had stained the cloth.
"Fine," she snapped, pulling her hand from his grasp and holding it behind her back. "I dropped a mirror and cut myself cleaning it up."
"Those hand mirrors sure can be dangerous," he teased. "Be more careful next time when you're admiring yourself."
"Just get out," she sneered, shoving his chest backwards. He grabbed his heart with both hands and pretended to stumble as if she'd genuinely hurt his feelings. Morgana rolled her eyes and locked the door behind him. She walked towards her curtains.
"He's gone, you can come out now," she said kindly.
Silence.
"Merlin?" she repeated, tentatively pulling back the velvet curtains.
Morgana smiled to herself at the sight she came upon. Merlin was sound asleep with his cheek on the cold stone floor and his rump in the air. He must have lost his battle with exhaustion as he peeked through the curtain at Arthur. Morgana simply took a pillow and blanket off her bed and gently rolled him onto his side and onto one of her pillows so his cheek rested on goose feathers rather than rock. Then she covered him with her fur blanket and closed the curtains back around him. The sun would rise in a few hours and there was no point having him leave now. Besides, Merlin would unintentionally keep her from further meddling with her mysterious dagger. Yes, Morgana would let him sleep in her chambers for the night, they were friends after all.
–
A/N: I'm sorry for taking ages to update! I wasn't inspired, and I was super busy lately! I hope you liked this, however, because I did. This is sort of a prequel for 'Knight Valiant.' I know a couple people weren't liking it following so close to the episodes, and I sort of agree. Therefore, I made this to make everyone happy. Pay attention to little details and foreshadowing in this chapter. It will play a big part in the future, even the next chapter.
PS: Everyone knows by now that Arthur and Morgana are both the offspring of Uther since 3x05, but I'm either going to ignore that fact or just go with legend and not care (because they had a child together knowing they were half-siblings in legend anyhow). ArMor will begin to dissipate soon in this fic, no worries.
PSS: Excuse any typos for now. I haven't had time to edit yet. BYE=)
Coming Soon: Knight Valiant, Arthur finds evidence of Morgana's lie, and Merlin... is just Merlin.
–
Review.