So... I've had a lot of people asking me about Morgana and what route I'm taking with her. Some were disappointed that I didn't have Merlyn sit her down and have a heart to heart about Magic.
I must be honest and say that I liked evil Morgana to a point. I completely understood her fear and anger of Uther and that she had probably been easily manipulated by Morgause because of him. Saying that, I never understood why she turned on Arthur as much as she did. There was a lot more Uther in her than we saw in Arthur. I would have loved to have had her struggle with her conscience more, perhaps seen her try and find a measure of redemption towards the end of the BBC series.
The Morgana in 'Merlyn' is perhaps a bit more selfish and power hungry than we saw in canon and although Merlyn is closer to Morgana than Merlin was, she is not as close to her as Gwen was in BBC Merlin. I don't feel it is safe for Merlyn to reveal her magic at this time.
As before, Merlin belongs to the BBC. I own nothing this is purely for entertainment.
It was early, the barest trace of dawn showing its colors though the darkness. Yet the man sitting on a hard-straw mattress in the room attached to the physician's chamber was very much awake. Unable to sleep he sat in darkness, the only light from the crack under the door, where the tiniest of light from the main room made its way through the gap.
Arthur was mildly embarrassed and slightly ashamed of himself. It was the pressure he decided. His father's wildly changing moods, Morgana's kidnap, the kingdoms growing fear...and his confusing feelings about a certain servant girl who was sleeping in the next room.
It had seemed like a brilliant idea at the time. The frustration at realizing that his own men were pulling their punches during training, the realization that he may not have won the last tournament on his own merits and ability had boiled his blood and left a sizeable dent in his pride.
He had jumped on Glens throw away suggestion and one had thing lead to another leading him here. Here being the small room attached to the physician's chamber which belonged to Merlyn. The girl in question was next to the fire in the main chamber where her Uncle usually slept. Gaius was visiting on of the outlying villages which had been struck down with a feverish illness. Merlyn was supposed to have gone with him, but she had picked up a rather worrying cough herself after getting soaked in the forest looking for Morgana.
She had been keeping a low profile, he'd noticed. Avoiding him, avoiding everyone. Arthur was forced to admit if only to himself that Glyndwr's idea had also given him an opportunity to get closer to the handmaiden. The Prince in him told him it was his duty to keep a close eye on her activities. In the current climate, it was dangerous for anyone to be suspect of associating with magic. But whereas his duty told him that he should turn her in, confront her and demand the truth, the repercussions of that action did not bear thinking about.
The past few days had been a revelation, but not the one he had expected. With Gaius away, Merlyn seemed to be doing both his jobs and her own. She was long gone in the morning before he woke and seemed to be everywhere, doing everything at once until she curled up in front of the fire and passed out late at night. No wonder his attempts to annoy her had caused her to blow up at him. He was hiding in her quarters, eating the food she prepared, sleeping on her rather lumpy mattress, complaining about his men going easy on him.
No one was going easy on her. And after one pathetic complaint too far she had finally let loose.
"You really have no idea how rude and arrogant you can be, do you? This is my home and you are my guest in it! I know you are used to more luxurious quarters, but that is not an excuse to be so rude! You claim titles don't matter to you, but you behave like a prince and expect me to wait on you like a servant! Saying it means nothing if your actions betray you! Would it kill you to say please and thank you once in a while?,,, My Lord!"
He had enjoyed seeing the flash of temper in her eyes, the fire he remembered from the previous summer when she had fought him tooth and nail over the Unicorn and Anhora, over his determination to face the Black Knight. He had missed it. But her well concealed fear under the acute embarrassment of the outburst caused his heart to ache. His sincere apology had somewhat smoothed the waters and he had retired for the night.
It was not long before they had both been woken by frantic knocking at the door, a desperate mother breaking curfew with her wheezing baby in her arms. He had watched though the smallest crack in the door as Merlyn had quickly attended to the pale child, calm and focused on the tiny infant. It seemed to take forever, but he had watched Merlyn and the mother worked to clear the little ones congested lungs. The smell of pungent vapors reached his nose as the baby started to cry in earnest, its little chest clearing. The mother collapsed in the chair, obviously exhausted. Arthur knew Merlyn had to be equally as tired, but she had tucked the young woman in her blankets and continued to pace the floor, the bundle in her arms mewing contently.
He wanted to help, take over and let her rest. He got as far as his hand on the door before he remembered the reasons why he could not just enter the room. He watched Merlyn rock the child, asleep as she curled up on the rug by the fire. He returned to the bed, studying the cracks in the flickering candle light thoughtfully before blowing out the dwindling flame and attempting to grasp the last of a night's rest.
He waited until the door had closed behind the thankful mother before emerging from the back room. She greeted him with tired eyes as she cleared the table of various vials she had used overnight.
"Morning Sire, I hope we didn't disturb you."
"No, how was the baby this morning? He sounded quite poorly."
"She is doing much better." Merlyn gently corrected him. "The worst is over, I think."
"What was wrong?"
"Too much mucous on the lungs. Poor thing could barely breathe." She said, removing a pot from the fire. "I'm afraid its just leftover gruel for breakfast, I'm rather behind but maybe Glyndwr will sneak you something from the kitchen."
"It is fine. Thank you. Merlyn, I wish to apologise again for last night. I am truly sorry for my behaviour. You obviously have a lot on your plate without being roped into my schemes."
Merlyn looked uncomfortably down at the bowls she was preparing, "I didn't mean to make you feel bad."
"Oh, really?" Arthur joked, calling her out. A small shy smile, which caused a flutter in his stomach passed over her lips, and a mischievous glimmer in her eyes caused them to soften.
"Well, perhaps a little." She confessed, relaxing in his presence.
"There's no excuse. I'll make it up to you. Tonight, I will make dinner for you."
He wasn't sure if he was offended by the surprised burst of laughter, but the amused disbelief she rewarded him with seemed to span the distance that both had carefully fostered over the past few months. Arthur knew he had missed it but did not realise the extent till it was almost within his reach.
She laughed at his insistence, teasing him about his history with camp fire cooking and begging him to be careful with Gaius' pots and pans. Arthur dug hid heels in and sent her off to work. It was then he realised a rather significant flaw in his plan…
She was not totally wrong about his ability to man the camp fire.
"I had to see it to believe it."
Arthur growled at his manservant who had barged into the room unexpectedly. He had been facing off against the raw chicken Merlyn had allocated for their dinner. He was debating whether to just skewer it like a campfire meat when Glyndwr walked in.
"Merlyn said you were cooking. But I can't smell anything."
"Oh, Glyndwr, thank you. I need you to fetch me two dinners from the palace kitchens."
"So...you're not cooking."
"No, but Merlyn doesn't need to know that. As far as she's concerned, dinner will be prepared and cooked by me."
"You're trying to impress her?" Glyndwr asked watching his Princes reaction carefully.
"Don't be ridiculous, Glen. Look I gave her a hard time last night and then she was up all night with a sick baby and I just want to help…So I thought dinner."
"You've never made me dinner." His man servant half teased. Before sobering. "Why can't you just admit it."
"Admit what?"
"Your feelings for her? It's so obvious. A blind man could see it." Glyndwr spoke over Arthurs scoff. "Is it really that hard to admit you like her? Just say it. That's partly what the past few days have been about isn't it."
Arthur shook his head in denial, but Glyndwr ploughed on. "You could have stayed at my house, or an empty dwelling in town but no, you asked Merlyn. You can't decide whether to avoid her or watch her like a hawk."
"I can't! How can I admit that I think about her all the time? Or that...I care about her more than anyone. How can I admit that?"
"Why can't you?"
"Because nothing can ever happen between us. You know this Glen. The best I can do, the only thing I can do is keep her safe and healthy. And right now, that just means feeding her. So, would you please help me!"
It wasn't often that Glen pitied the Prince. But at the frustration and hopelessness in Arthur was almost painful to see. He himself had long since given up any hope of his to gain Merlyns affection. Instead he had nurtured a deep and lasting friendship with the girl. Arthur had no such recourse.
Merlyn was nearly dead on her feet. All she wanted to do was crawl into her bed and sleep. Unfortunately, that was not likely in her near future. Not with a petulant Prince hiding in her bed chamber. She let out a small giggle at the errant thought. She approached her chambers somewhat hesitantly, unsure about what lay in wait. Arthur had somewhat surprised her this morning after Elin had left with her little one by announcing that he would be preparing the evening meal. Having seen her Princes efforts on a campfire, she was not exactly salivating at the thought.
So, she was surprised by the mouth-watering smell when she entered the chamber. The sight of well cooked chicken and veg was so welcomed she barely waited until Arthur had taken her small bag of her and pulled out a chair. He watched pleased as she tucked into her dinner, the warmth soothing her hungry belly.
"This is delicious, Sire." She complimented, knowing that this was bot the work of his own two hands. Arthur was many things. A decent cook was not one of them.
Across the table from her, he shot her a reprimanding look.
"Arthur," He said, admonishingly, smiling slightly. One unexpected outcome of his plan was that the amount of time he spent with Merlyn seemed to have calmed some of the recent tension. He was now able to laugh and joke with her almost as before. But the handmaiden was careful to maintain her distance, to keep him at arm's length. He understood, even if he did not like it.
"Yes, Sire,"
"Merlyn! For goodness sake, I'm hiding in your chambers, sleeping in your bed…" Merlyn nearly spat out her mouthful at his unchecked remark as he cringed, the tips of his ears going ever so slightly pink as he felt the back of his neck burn with embarrassment.
"I didn't…I mean you have to sleep out here."
"I'd be sleeping here anyway, Sire." She assured him. "I promised Gaius I would stay by the fire."
"Even so. I know you had a long night. And I imagine along day with Morgana."
"Yes," Merlyn let out a small laugh. "She and Lady Guinevere are enjoying the tournament. From what I hear, the ladies of the court are quite impressed with Sir William. They think he's very handsome."
"Typical." Arthur snorted, "He wouldn't know a real knight if he whacked him round the head with his lance."
"Why are you doing this?"
"I told you…I fear that people respect me just because of my title."
"I don't believe that's true of everyone."
"Would you tell me if it were?"
"Well…No…Actually," Merlyn thought about it. "I can be pretty blunt with you. I did give you hell for leaving your boots in the middle of the floor."
"I'm a bit used to being waiting on hand and foot." Arthur admitted, remembering her angry tirade when shed come in and fallen over his abandoned shoes."
"So, do I have any more annoying habits you wish to tell me about?"
"No, none." Merlyn answered quickly. Too quickly.
"There's something else, isn't there? What is it?"
"Well, the truth is...you snore."
"I do not snore."
About to compare the rather annoying noises that had disturbed her sleep to the market pigs, Merlyn was almost relieved when there was a quick knock at the door. Arthur picked up his plate and hurried behind one of the privacy screens.
Merlyn gave him a few moments then unlocked the door, allowing Sir Leon to enter.
"The King commands your presence immediately."
Merlyn left the room without a backward glance, leaving a worried Arthur behind.
Merlyn knelt down by the guard in the corridor, gently examining the poor man's body.
Uthur watched her somewhat doubtfully as she went through the routine he had seem Gaius perform. He knew that his old friend was teaching his niece in medicine, but it was difficult to take such a young girl seriously.
"Can you determine a cause of death?"
Thankfully Merlyn was quite certain. "His neck's been broken. There's scarcely a mark on the flesh. Whoever killed him knew exactly what he was doing."
"Sire, earlier this evening, an intruder was spotted in the lower town." Sir Leon disclosed.
Uther let out a long breath of unease. "Then I fear it's true, Odin has sent an assassin to kill Arthur."
Merlyn raised an eyebrow, this was news to her.
"With this assassin in Camelot, we must be thankful Arthur isn't here. Search the entire town. I want the assassin found before Arthur returns."
The body of the guard was moved into an empty room and Merlyn hurried back to her rooms. She opened the door to find Arthur clearing the table.
"There is an assassin in Camelot. The King received word that Odin had sent one after you and a guard has been killed in the Citadel. He is to search the town."
Arthur sat down with a long sigh, rubbing his hands wearily over his face. The face of a young man with determined eyes flashed before his eyes, then the sound of a skull hitting the ground hard. It was a memory he lived with, a senseless death.
"Why would Odin want you dead?" She wondered, sitting in the chair in front of him, sensing his disquiet.
"Because I killed his son." Arthur removed his head from his hands and looked at her. She did not flinch, knowing it was not as simple as that. Arthur watched her a long moment before deciding to continue.
"Odin's son challenged me to a fight. I had no quarrel with him. I asked him to withdraw. Perhaps he felt he had to prove himself."
The regret and remorse written all over his face had her reaching out unconsciously, gripping one of his forearms as it rested on the table. He looked at it for a moment before covering it with his other hand, fingers lacing with hers. What was it about her that pulled every secret from him. No that wasn't fair. He wasn't being compelled to tell her anything. He wanted to tell her.
"I can still see his face. He looked so scared. I didn't mean to strike a fatal blow, he just fell the wrong way."
"You cannot blame yourself. Listen, only Glyndwr and I know where you are. If the assassin can't find you, he can't kill you."
"So I can stay here…even with my snoring?" Arthur asked, trying to lighten the mood.
"Of course," Merlyn told him. "You know that."
"Thank you. I'll sleep out here tonight."
"No, have my bed. You need to be well rested for the tournament tomorrow." Merlyn insisted. "I'm actually enjoying the fire. And Elin may come back tonight if her little one takes poorly again.
"I meant to say…I saw you last night…I wasn't spying its just the baby was crying really loud, and I was just checking…but…you were amazing last night." He gave up in the end, just deciding to say what he wanted to. "How you looked after the baby, it was amazing."
"Thank you." Merlyn said shyly, "And thank you for the supper. It was lovely."
"I have a bit of a confession there…"
"You didn't cook it." She stated.
"How…"
"The plates have royal seal on them." She pointed out. "But I'll give you credit for the thought. After the past few days it was nice to have a meal made for me."
"You deserved it." Arthur assured her. "And you don't deserve my cooking."
Merlyn laughed and the pair of them fell into silence.
"Why are you doing this Arthur…the tournament."
"Because I need to know, Merlyn. When I'm competing as William, my title doesn't matter, nobody gives me any special treatment. So when I win this tournament...if I win this tournament, it will be because I deserve it and not because I am Prince Arthur."
Merlyn squeezed his forearm, a beat before she realised he was still holding her hand. The look of surprise she shot at her hand, made him aware of just how close they had got, having leant closer to each other as they were talking, knees almost touching. The now blushing hand maiden pulled back firmly, their fingers slipping away from each other as she drew back and bade him goodnight.
For the second night in a row, Arthur lay on Merlyns bed staring at the ceiling thinking about the raven-haired beauty and how if things were different. Wishing not for the first time that things could be different.
"There's been no sign of the assassin, the guards search came up empty." Merlyn told him as she fitted the last of his armour.
"Just one more match and the tournament will be all over." Arthur said with some relief, but he was surprised at the small prang of disappointment. Just one more match and Prince Arthur would be back.
Merlyn moved out from under has arm, securing his breast plate, unaware of how close she had moved, so focused on her task. He watched her, in silent reverence before taking her face in his hands. She jolted in surprise, instinctively pulling back, but he held her face firmly, his thumbs stroking her cheeks.
"Thank you, for the past few days, Merlyn. Thank you for everything." Before she could respond he ducked down and pressed his lips to hers in a slightly longer than chaise kiss. He felt her lips return the pressure before he pulled back and let her go, clearing his throat awkwardly.
"I must go…now." He said, before pulling on his long clock to disguise his identity and heading for the door, Merlyn stood still for a scant second before rolling her eyes, collecting his sword and shield and heading off after him.
She had no way of knowing that Myror was closer than they thought. The skilled assassin had followed Glyndwr and Sir William, watching from afar as the Prince swapped places with the Knight.
Inspired Myror decided to swap himself with the Princes opponent. After dispatching of Sir Alynor, he dressed in the other mans armour and disguised himself as the Knight, with a few modifications to his lance.
Merlyn and Glyndwr watched in horror as "Sir Alynor" landed a devastating blow to Arthur, the Prince managing to cling to his horse, despite his not insignificant injury. Merlyn's attention was all on Arthur as she dashed toward him, helping him down from his mount and supporting him into the tent.
"His lance pierced my armour." Arthur groaned as Merlyn removed the dented breast plate. Ripping at her apron she pressed the fabric hard to the wound.
"You're losing too much blood."
"Do what you can. I have to be back on the course within five minutes or I forfeit the match."
"You can't possibly joust, you're too badly injured!"
"I have never withdrawn from a match. I do not intend to start now."
"You would risk your life to protect your pride? You have nothing to prove to anyone."
"I have everything to prove. To myself."
"When will you understand that you have already proven the kind of Knight you are, You defeated Valiant, the questing beast…"
"Merlyn…I need to do this." He pleaded with her. Reluctantly she made a makeshift bandage and fixed the breast plate, cursing herself and him as she got him back on his horse, Unable to hold her tongue when he asked her to hand him his lance.
"This is madness! You impossible man!" But she smiled at the end of her rant. Yes. Arthur was indeed impossible. He grinned weakly at her before heading back to the field.
"Merlyn!" Glyndwrs urgent shout had her spinning around "Where's Arthur?"
"He's about to joust."
"He's jousting against the assassin."
They rushed to the grounds just in time to see Arthur and Myror tilt their lances and take off.
Merlyn knew she had to intervene and she could think of only one way. She fixed her gaze on the assassin's saddle.
Unbinde þé téage.
The girth on Myrors horse snapped, unbalancing the rider and allowing Arthurs lance to unhorse the rider. He landed with a terrible thump on the ground and lay unmoving. Glyndwr got to the man first and shook his head, the mans neck was snapped.
Merlyn just nodded and focussed on leading the Prince back to the tent where Sir William was waiting.
"You were jousting against the assassin." She told him as she removed his armour to tend to his wound.
"He killed Sir Alynor and took his place." Glyndwr told him regretfully.
The sounds of the crowds grew louder outside as they grew impatient with his delay.
"The people are waiting for their champion. It's time to reveal yourself," Glyndwr said getting ready to escort his master out. When Arthur did something, none of them expected.
Arthur turned to a rather glum looking Sir William and said, "You must go and collect the trophy."
Glyndwr looked at him in astonishment, "I thought this was going to be your moment of glory."
"Perhaps this is a time for humility." Arthur told him, before turning and looking at Merlyn, who was perhaps his biggest source of inspiration he mused.
Sir William and Glyndwr left the tent and the crowd roared. Arthur chuckled at the cheers. He looked over at Merlyn who was examining the dented breast plate thoughtfully. It had been a very close call he noted, a few fingers to the left…
"Did you learn what you needed to?" She asked him. "Is it really over now?"
"Yes." He admitted, reaching for her with his good arm. "I did. Thank you, Merlyn. Unable to help himself he lay his lips on her forehead, hand stroking her upper arm comfortingly.
"I'm sorry about before…in your chambers…except I'm not…if my father…" He said disjointedly. He sighed annoyed with his inability to finish a single sentence.
"I know, Arthur." She whispered and for the first time he saw the quiet glow in her eyes, the sad resignation. He wasn't alone in this confusion, this longing for something forbidden and that could never be. He hated that he found comfort in the thought.
Merlyn opened the door to an empty chamber for the first time in months. With a sign of relief, she trudged to her room and flopped down on the mattress, ignoring the unmade sheets. Amongst the small comfort of lumpy straw there was a new scent, Arthurs. She must have dozed off because she did not awaken until her Uncle knocked on her door, entering at her bidding.
"Merlyn! Whose boots are these lying in the middle of the floor, I nearly went flying!"
Thank you for reading.
I'm trying to make the stories more than just rewriting the episodes and weave some of my own threads though them, so thank you for sticking with the story so far. Any ideas, criticisms are all very welcome. Hope you enjoyed.