AN: Short chapter. The next two will be longer :)
The cold fingers of early morning tugged at the edges of Merlin's consciousness. Heavy lids parted as he emerged from the veil of sleep, memories of yesterday's strange events flooding his mind, the unknown magic that had brought Will back to him for a day. As he steeled himself to rise from the warmth of his blankets, he realized he was actually a good deal warmer than he ought to be. Still half asleep, he pulled back the covers, then stopped short. A pale arm was draped over his side, hand resting delicately against his chest. A light puff of warm air stirred the hair on the back of his neck.
The sleep that had clouded his mind was instantly flung away as Merlin came alert. Slowly, cautiously, he turned his head. Even as he turned, he knew who it would be. And if this was some sort of test, if he was supposed to prove himself, by letting Will go, by letting her go, he knew in an instant that this time, he would fail.
Because he wouldn't loose her again.
The night had been difficult. During the day, Morgana could surround herself with light, color, and life. In the quiet and solitude of evening, she was at the mercy of the visions, the nightmares, the memories. They found her each time her eyes slipped closed. Eventually, she had made her way through the dark to a nearby stream. The constant burble of water helped ground her as she sat there alone, huddled in a blanket. The sun was beginning to slant through the trees when she heard footsteps approaching.
"I'm told you had a busy day yesterday. That you've been getting to know the others here. That's good. I'm sorry I wasn't here, but... there are things afoot that require my attention."
Morgana moved her eyes slowly, trying to focus in on the person who stood nearby talking to her. Well worn boots. Plain coat. Hands twitching. Dark hair. Pale eyes.
"Mordred."
"You remember me." The young man smiled as he sat on a nearby rock, not crowding her. "I wasn't sure you would."
The words hung in the air. Morgana's eyes darted to the face before her. She felt as though something was expected of her. Something she ought to do or say. She just wasn't sure…
After a moment, the thought slid away like rain on glass, and she felt her face settle to passivity once more, eyes unfocused.
But not closed.
A sigh crested in the air nearby. She caught Mordred's form in the edge of her vision as he rose, crossing to rest a hand on her shoulder.
"You'll be safe here, and well taken care of," he said. "I have plans, Morgana. Things on the horizon that I want to share with you. When you're ready, we'll talk."
The hand left her shoulder. Footsteps retreated.
She was alone.
"How do you propose we allow Amata to continue in self governance when there is no ruler to govern it?"
"There's the point."
"Sarrum had no heir. There's no one left but peasants. His entire court of nobles and his castle are gone, if the report of Camelot's knights is to be believed—"
"I was there myself, Sir Boris. I can assure you, there's naught left but ashes."
"And wasn't that fire Camelot's own doing, Lord Gwaine?"
"Yes, but the sorcerers, this group calling themselves the Heoler, they had already killed everyone."
"And we're just supposed to take your word for it?"
Arthur bit his tongue, refusing to join in the squabbling. He had learned patience in his years as King, from Gwen, from… others. He was employing it now. Let the loudest voices talk themselves out, and eventually, they might be ready to listen.
"What are our other options? If Amata is not to rule itself, then who will step in?"
"If you're asking for a volunteer—"
Arthur had known this wouldn't be easy. Each kingdom had it's own agenda. Each ruler was used to fighting for what they wanted. It would take time, care, and consideration to bring them together.
"Amata has hundreds of miles of coast, timber, ore, flocks… It is rich of resource and ripe for the taking, and yet we sit here talking."
"You and your king are welcome to try for it, Boris. See how far you get."
"Hardly helpful, Prince Bearn. We are none of us here enemies."
The heir of Mercia shrugged off Mithian's words. His reaction struck close to home for Arthur. He had been like that once. Stubborn, thoughtless, arrogant. If not for his friends- if not for Merlin, a treacherous voice in the corner of his mind whispered- he might still be like that. He forcibly cut off that course of thought. His dreams had been strangely empty the last few nights, devoid of that nebulous, Merlinish presence he had been growing used to. He didn't want to dwell to long on what that might mean.
"But we are not all allies," Caedmon's voice was quiet, but clear. "I would hear what King Arthur has to say. What his purpose is in bringing us here."
All eyes moved to Arthur. He let the silence settle, then spoke.
"No one of us has more right to the land of Amata than any other. In the past, we have sought to gain that right through force, through weapons and armies. Victory to the strongest. Might is right. But such tyranny is not sustainable. The bloodshed and death it brings are unending. The cycle of violence continues, orphaning children and devastating our lands. And one day, each of us that lives such a life will meet an end much as the Sarrum did. We will die alone, unmourned, unable to pass on the things we have worked and strived for."
Arthur paused for a moment, meeting each eye around the table before continuing.
"Here at this round table, we all have equal say. Equal power. We can make decisions that will benefit all of us, and avoid death and destruction. That is why I have called you here."
A myriad of expressions graced the faces of those around him. Some looked unimpressed, some suspicious. But most looked thoughtful… perhaps even hopeful. At least they were listening. Arthur steeled himself for what he had to say next.
"And that is why my first proposal to you is this: that we work together to re-establish Amata. Not as a colony or tributary. As a free nation, ruled over by the only ones with any right to rule; the people of Amata."
AN: Thanks for reading, and I'll see you in a week. What follows bellow has nothing to do with the story, but I felt compelled to write it. Feel no obligation to read on :)
For many of us, the holidays aren't stuffed full of joy and happiness. They tend to shine a spotlight on the things that are missing from our lives- things we've lost, things we've never had... and people around us wonder why we're not peppy and giddy. It's okay not to be. But I hope anyone reading this who is feeling lonely or sorrowful can gain some comfort in one of the most important themes of Merlin: You are not alone. No matter the struggle, no matter how many people around seem not to care, empathize, or even acknowledge your existence, there are people in the world who would love to get to know you, who are just waiting for someone like you to step into their lives. Maybe it's people you know, but are having trouble connecting with. Maybe you haven't met them yet. You might find them online, at a coffee shop, in a class. It might take years. But it will be worth it. Hang in there. I wish you love and joy.
-Pawthorn