Author's Note: Thanks again to lovely Azar443 for being such a wonderful FF confidante and twin!
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or any quotes you may recognize that are not from Merlin.
The Beginning of the End
Morgana stands at her table reading Estella's most recent letter. Gwen is finishing up straightening her mistress's bed. After finishing the task, she goes to pour Morgana a goblet of wine.
"How is the Lady Estella?" the maid inquires.
The Lady chuckles lightly, "Oh, very well she says. Although, some events in Caerleon sparked up some old memories. You remember the time we all decided to dance in the rain that one summer night nine years ago?"
"I do," Gwen says fondly.
Morgana giggles, "While evading the guards, we learned that day that it is possible to trip up stairs. Poor Estella nearly broke her nose and she damned the existence of stairs!"
The two women start to laugh freely while reminiscing their younger years, until Merlin unceremoniously bursts into her chambers.
"Merlin?" the maid questions
"Have you forgotten how to knock?" the Lady adds incredulously.
"The guards are after him," The servant quickly explains, gesturing to the young boy next to him, "I didn't know what to do."
A feeling of recognition runs through Morgana as she studies the boy's youthful face: pale skin, dark hair, wide sky blue eyes like- "My Lady, My Lady?" the guards knock roughly upon her door while calling for her.
"Eh, in there," she directs them to the curtain, whilst moving to the door, Gwen right behind her. After she sees that Merlin and the boy are hidden, she opens the door.
"I'm sorry to disturb you, my Lady." The guard says, "We're searching for a young Druid boy. We believe he came this way."
"I haven't seen anyone." The ward calmly informs him, "It's just me and my maid."
"Best keep the door locked till we find him," he precautions.
Flashing a slight smile she obliges, "Of course, thank you."
After hastily closing the door, Morgana runs to the curtain to check on the boy. Merlin removes his hand from the boy's arm to find blood smearing his palm and fingers.
Arthur rests his palms on the table as he attempts to dissuade his father from taking on the hunt, "The Druid was only in Camelot to collect supplies. He meant no harm. Is it necessary to track him down and execute him?"
"Absolutely necessary, those who use magic cannot be tolerated." the king answers promptly.
"The Druids are a peaceful people," Arthur notes.
"Given the chance, they would return magic to the kingdom." The prince looks at his father with doubt, but the older man does not notice. "They preach peace, but conspire against me. We cannot appear weak."
The younger man straightens up. "Showing mercy can be a sign of strength."
Uther turns to his son. "Our enemies will not see it that way. We have a responsibility to protect this kingdom. When we find the Druid, executing him will send out a clear message. Find the boy. Search every inch of the city."
Cerdan looks around him, his brows knitted and hands poised, ready to strike at the first sign of danger. The last thing he remembers is being surrounded by guards and then his vision blurred and he felt himself leave the ground, as if a griffin had taken and dropped him in this forest.
"Peace, Cerdan, you need not fear."
Turning around, the Druid comes face to face with Valeria. Bowing in deference to the witch he says, "Lady Le Fay, was this your doing?"
Lifting her chin she answers, "Of course."
He straightens up and nods in thanks. "Thank you, then, for saving my life."
"It is only our duty Cerdan," craning her neck toward the direction of Caerleon, "Had my daughter been here she would have aided you."
"So the rumors are true?" he presses.
Valeria nods and beckons for him to follow her. "Indeed they are. My sister and I, with the help of Estella, have been smuggling sorcerers from Camelot for years, now. You should consider yourself fortunate, we are not always so lucky to save every one of them."
The Druid nods and the two continue to walk in silence, until they reach edge of the Druid camp. Turning to each other, Cerdan speaks once more, "Again, my Lady, you have my gratitude."
She offers him a soft smile. "And you have mine and my family's. You have completed the charge I placed upon you, now it up to my niece, the young Pendragon, and Emrys." Retreating back the way she came, Valeria Le Fay bid the Druid farewell.
Mordred lays on the cushions and blankets that Morgana and Gwen wrapped him in. They had removed his torn shirt and bound his bleeding arm. Morgana keeps constant watch over, tenderly making sure that he is comfortable and softly asking him questions, but Mordred does not speak, fearing that he may release all the knowledge that Morgana is, for now, ignorant to.
The pain in his arm dulls and the boy closes his eyes, drifting to sleep. It is a bit later when he hears the door softly creak open.
"Has he said anything at all?" He hears Emrys asks.
Morgana shakes her head. "Nothing, he won't even tell me his name."
Merlin leans against the wall, never had he thought that he would be this close to Morgana. "You know," he starts, "Err, for a moment there earlier, I- I thought you were going to hand us over to the guards."
She nearly scoffs. "I'm glad you have so much faith in me, Merlin."
Realizing his misstep he begins to elaborate. "No, no, sorry, em, I meant, you're the king's ward. You're taking a huge risk helping the boy."
"I wouldn't see an innocent child executed." She explains. "What harm has he ever done anyone?"
"Uther believes he has magic, and that makes him guilty." Merlin says glumly.
"Uther's wrong." Morgana voices with vehemence.
Merlin looks up at her. "You believe that?" He is aware that Morgana has magic, but to his knowledge, Morgana, herself, did not know… Or did she?
"What if magic isn't something you choose? What if it chooses you?" And Merlin is struck by her again. He realizes that even if she didn't possess the gift, she would defend those who did. Without knowing it, he gives her a rather dreamy look. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
Merlin jumps, not only at her catching him, but at the sharp sting in his skull. Glancing sideways at the motionless boy (who wasn't at all pleased with the warlock's fancy for Morgana), he mutters, "Nothing."
Then a thought comes to Morgana. "Why are you helping him?"
The warlock is caught off guard, for he doesn't really know the answer. "It was a spur of the moment decision." And Morgana back at the boy, silently berating men for their embarrassment over knowing how to care. "What do you think we should do with him? He can't stay here."
"We have to find a way to get him back to his people." She answers.
At dinner that night, Morgana sits across from her guardian, studiously refusing to make conversation. He is oblivious to her inner conflict, but he when catches a troubled expression on her face, his concern is brushed away by her charming reassurance. She is almost thankful when Arthur enters the chamber.
"What news of the hunt for the Druid and the boy?" the king inquires.
Arthur puts his elbows on the back of a chair. "We have conducted an extensive search. They are nowhere to be found."
Uther leans back and sternly looks at his son. "You mean you failed to find them?"
"The guards say that the man disappeared right before their eyes. You can't expect us to find someone who simply vanishes into thin air."
The older man begrudgingly nods and huffs, "But the boy, he was last seen in the main square."
"Perhaps, he's already left the city." The younger man suggests.
The king snorts, "You're telling me that a wounded boy is able to evade the guards and escape the city? Nonsense, someone's hiding him. I want him found."
Arthur nearly sighs in frustration. "He's just a boy. What harm can he do?"
"He is a Druid, and that makes him dangerous." Uther emphasizes with restrained malice.
Secretly saving Arthur from the king's rage, Morgana states, "The Druids would see your father's kingdom destroyed."
The prince turns to her with a critical eye, "I had no idea you were such an authority on Druids."
"Morgana is right." After taking a drink, he commands, "Double your efforts."
"Yes, Father."
Uther adds, "The man be left, unless he returns to the city, but keep searching until you find the boy." And Morgana's heart clenches at the thought of what could happen to the boy hidden in her chambers.
Mordred now is not feigning sleep. He's in a slightly unconscious state, hearing most of the sounds around him, but not able to respond. The wound is getting worse and the boy longs for his mother's touch and care, she has a gift in the arts of healing.
Footsteps and then knocking at the door interrupt Emrys and Morgana's conversation. The Lady quickly closes the curtain and goes to the door. Merlin peeks through to see who the visitor is.
"Arthur, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Morgana asks with mock distain.
"Don't get all excited." The prince replies just as mockingly, "It's not a social call. I'm looking for the Druid boy. I'm afraid I'm going to have to search your chambers."
Panic runs through her mind, but her face remains blank. "You're not searching my chambers."
"Don't take it personally. I have to search the entire castle." He moves toward her wardrobe. "Only take a few minutes," he adds.
Morgana worriedly glances at the drawn curtains behind her screen. "I'm not having you mess up my things."
"I'm not interested in your things," he states as he sifts through her numerous gowns, "I'm just looking for any evidence that the Druid boy's in the castle."
"Perhaps the Druid boy's hiding in your chambers." She suggests and patronizingly puts in, "They're usually such a mess, you'd never know."
Arthur rolls his eyes, "It's hardly my fault I have such a lazy idiot for a servant."
The woman scoffs, "If you can't even find your own servant, what hope do you have of finding the boy?"
Completely accustomed to her derision, he answers in stride, "Really, I'm touched by the confidence you have in my abilities. And, as much as I'd love to stay and talk, the sooner we get started, the sooner we'll be finished."
She nearly huffs in frustration. "Well, I'll save you the trouble."
"Trust me, if I could find him, I would." He turns when he hears the click of her heels.
"The Druid boy's hiding behind the screen," She states. Arthur glances toward the screen, but before he could look behind it, Morgana saunters over to him. "I'm sure your father would love to know how you wasted your time by rifling through my things… Go on."
Lifting a brow, he challenges, "So you can have the satisfaction of making me look a fool?"
"Oh, please, in my experience, you don't need any help looking like a fool." Arthur balks and hangs his head, 'Why did she have to better at this.' Sensing his drawback, she grins, "What are you waiting for? Take a look."
Fed up with taunts, "Why don't you go back to- brushing your hair or whatever it is that you do all day?"
"Bye, Arthur. Good luck with the search!" And he leaves with soft slamming of her door.
From behind the curtains, Merlin sighs in relief. Unbeknownst to him, the young boy next to him, despite his weakened state, is silently laughing at the exchange between the prince and the ward.
Mordred feels himself getting worse. In his mind, he is screaming for home, screaming yearningly for his friends, his siblings, his mother, his father, his family.
The boy's beginning to come back into consciousness when he feels something cool being spread on his wound.
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" He hears Morgana ask.
"I'm doing my best," Merlin assures softly.
In his mind, the warlock hears a weak voice say, "Thank you, Emrys."
Responding telepathically, he inquires, "Emrys, why do you call me that?"
"Among the Druids and others who possess magic, that is your name." the boy explains.
"You know who I am, how?" Merlin looks down at the younger boy intently.
Mordred does not respond for fear that he may have revealed too much already.
"Speak to me," the older boy nearly begs out loud.
Coming up behind him, Morgana says, "I don't know if he can't speak, or... if he's just too scared to."
Resigning to the boy's silence, Merlin binds the wound again and leaves him under the Lady's watchful eye.
The next day, Mordred feels his health deteriorating even more. He regrets ever coming here. Regrets trying to change fate when his mother vehemently fought against his decision to do this, but her beloved cousin, the cool reasoning to her warm affection, insisted on this, prophesied this. Stating that Mordred's aunt would stop at nothing to bring his family harm. His thoughts are interrupted, as his eye is pulled open by someone. Through the haze of his clouded vision, he deciphers an elder face, white hair, and a stern brow, 'Gaius?'
The physician examines the boy carefully. Something about him seemed familiar to the elder man, but couldn't quite place it. Turning to the three young people, he says, "I will treat the boy, but as soon as he's well, you must get him out of Camelot. And woe betide anyone caught helping him."
Morgana, Gwen, and Merlin leave Gaius to tend to the boy's healing.
Morgana searches through the drawers in Arthur's chambers. There's no sign of the keys that she needs and she curses, knowing that if they are not in his drawers then they are with him. Quickly putting things back in order (or as 'orderly' as they were), she leaves his chambers and walks down the corridor, only to run right into the prince when rounding the corner to the stairs.
The prince catches the both of them. Holding Morgana by her shoulders he asks, "Where are you in a rush to?"
Glancing at his belt, she sees the keys, but looking back at his face she answers, "Nowhere."
He looks back her dubiously, "Hmm, right."
While discreetly moving her hand to the retrieve the keys, she narrows her eyes at his tone, "What are getting at?"
The prince shakes his head, "I didn't say anything."
She unhooks the keys and he thankfully doesn't notice while scrutinizing her expression. "Then if you would release my shoulders, I would like to return to my chambers."
Realizing that he still had a hold on her, Arthur drops his hands and she slips the keys into her sleeve. She moves to go up the stairs, but he stop, "Are you sure you're alright?"
Taken aback by the sudden concern, she balks on the first step. Without turning around she answers, "I'm fine," and escapes up the stairs before he can question her further.
Mordred feels his health returning to him as day turns into night. He's heard Morgana whisper with Gaius, Gwen, and Merlin, but he's not sure what they are talking about. When he feels himself strong enough, he sits up and leans against the wall.
Morgana then comes to kneel in front of him. She's not wearing the fine silks and satins that make up her gowns, but rather trousers, tunic, and a midnight cloak. Smiling she tells him, "We're going to get you out of Camelot. I won't let anything bad happen to you. I promise."
Mordred, feeling hope that he long thought was lost, couldn't help but smile back at his the woman. She helps him up and ties his cloak around his shoulders, taking as punctilious care as his mother would. Thinking of his mother, his heart lightens, he would see her again and his father.
...
Morgana curses this turn of events. The guard advances towards her and she pulls Mordred to her chest and backs away. Then she feels the tip of a sword on her back and she stops and stiffens.
"Halt or I'll run you through," Arthur threatens. "Show yourself."
Slowly, the ward turns around. When he sees her face, the prince is shocked. His jaw clenches as he understands now why she's been acting strangely.
Looking at him with those sea green eyes of her she pleads, "Let him go. Please, he's only a child."
Arthur glances down at the boy and then looks around, but sees that they are surrounded by guards. He can't let them go now. Steeling himself, he commands, "Restrain them."
Morgana is taken and confined in her chambers and the boy is thrown into the dungeons.
In the morning, Morgana is taken to the council chambers to face the king. He stands next to his chair, barely controlled rage reigned in as his ward stares defiantly at him. His son is off to his left, standing silently with eyes trained on the floor.
After what seems like hours of heavy silence, Uther breaks it with, "All this time, you've been hiding the boy in my own palace. How could you betray me like this?"
Morgana holds no shame in her actions. "I did what I thought was right."
"You think it is right to conspire with my enemies against me?" he accuses.
"How can this child be your enemy?" She throws back, "He's just a boy."
"He is a Druid," Uther states as if that justifies everything.
Morgana retorts, "Is that such a crime?"
Leaning toward her, he emphasizes, "His kind would see me dead and this kingdom returned to anarchy and you would help them."
Taking a step she boldly says, "Then punish me" Arthur tenses even more at that, "But spare the boy." Her eyes are still hard, but her tone softens, "I beg you."
Turning away from the young woman, Uther looks to his son, "Make arrangements for the boy to be executed tomorrow morning."
"No! Please, he's done nothing," she pleads.
The king hisses, "Let this be a lesson to you."
"You don't have to do this." Morgana pronounces softly and Arthur looks on the scene with pity. No matter what the ward did, she could never persuade the king against his decisions. Not even he as the prince could do, but there is only one who had such influence on the king, but unfortunately, that person is not in Camelot.
"Do you hear me? I want him executed at dawn."
Snapping out of his thoughts, Arthur dutifully answers, "Yes, Father."
As the king walks away, Morgana marches toward him, "What have these people done to you? Why are you so full of hate?" She grabs for his arm and his restraint is broken as he whorls around, grasps her throat and presses her to the back of the chair.
Arthur stiffens. Any other who grabbed Morgana in such a way met the edge of his sword, but this is his father, the king, to react in his usual way would be treason. And yet the way the king clutched at his ward's throat seemed just as bad a crime.
"Enough! I will not hear another word! Do not speak to me until you are ready to apologize for what you've done." Releasing his hold on her, Uther leaves the council chambers.
Arthur moves to follow him, but when gets close to Morgana, he sees her slightly quivering form and hears her labored breaths.
Cautiously, he puts his hand on her shoulder causing her to jump. She looks into his eyes, those pleading sea green eyes from last night returning. They hold each other's gazes, but after a moment passes, he drops his hand and goes to catch up with his father.
After his unsuccessful talk with his father about Morgana's case, the prince retreats to his chambers, only to find that the aforementioned woman is sitting in a chair waiting for him.
"Make yourself at home," he says drily while shutting his doors.
"You can't let your father execute the boy," she states.
Turning around, he nearly releases all his anger and frustration at her. "You're lucky he's not executing you. Are you telling me he really was behind the screen when I came to search your chambers?"
Morgana nods and Arthur looks off in frustration at his stupidity. "I know you believe your father's wrong to execute him."
The prince sighs as he takes off his sword belt. "What I believe doesn't matter. My father's made up his mind. He won't be talked out of it. I tried."
Shooting up from the chair, she proclaims, "Then the time for talking is over."
He picks up a goblet of wine and goes to the window. "Whatever you're thinking, it's not going to happen." (He can't even remember how many times he's said this to her).
"We have to get the boy back to his people," she tells him.
"No. Forget it." (Or this either).
Through slightly clenched teeth, the Lady seethes, "I can't believe you'd let an innocent child die!"
"It's too late. He's been caught." He adds in a lowered tone, "I have no choice."
"And is this how you will rule when you are king?" Her tone also lowering, "You're not like your father."
Even so he can't go against his father, "I will not betray him."
"If I know you at all, you won't stand by and let this happen." The prince turns from her. "Please," the woman inches closer to him. "If you won't do this for the boy… then do it for me."
He sighs, but not in frustrated way. In a way that tells her that he will do as she says. But what she doesn't know is that he'd only do it for her, only because it's her.
...
They've just about devised a reasonable enough plan. Battles and tactics are more Arthur's suit, though. Morgana, herself, is rather good at them as well, but when it came to something such as this – an escape plan – it is their cousin they usually turn to. Estella has always been the brilliant and meticulous one, able to find just about every flaw in a plan and always able to prevent it. Unfortunately for them, she isn't there to help them.
The door suddenly creaks and Merlin pokes his head in. Morgana insists that he can be trusted and so they tell him of their plan. Surprisingly, the servant catches a fault. Regrettably for him, he gets himself more involved than is to take Morgana's place in the plans as she dines with Uther to keep herself safe. Of course Arthur suggests this; he would not see her hurt by his father again.
Mordred sits and stares dishearteningly into space. Again, his hope is shattered. His sadness and fear clench at his heart, but he refuses to shed any tears. His father always told him that in times of despondency, men do not cry, they stand tall and proud and that is what he planned to do.
Suddenly, the door of his cell is unlocked and the prince strides in. "Don't be scared. I've sent word to your people; I'm taking you to them." Holding out his hand, "You must come with me."
Mordred looks up with wide eyes, but takes Arthur's hand and allows the prince to lead him out. They head down a tunnel, the older man is constantly looking back to be certain that they are not followed. The two of them reach the gate at the end of the tunnel.
Arthur puts down the torch and whispers for his servant, "Merlin, Merlin!" The boy looks up at him, but assuredly says, "Don't worry, he'll be here."
...
The warning bells begin to sound and Arthur grips at the bars, trying with all his strength to break them. He pushes against the gate in his frustration. "Damn it, Merlin!"
Distantly, they hear a door open at the other end of the tunnel and guards moving in. Arthur puts out the torch and starts looking around for another possible escape. Finding none the prince draws his sword, ready to fight his own soldiers for the boy.
A small part of his mind berates him for such loyalty to the boy, a boy who has magic, a boy he doesn't even know. But then he recognizes that this must be what Morgana felt, this feeling that makes him want (need) to protect the child at any cost.
Mordred, in desperation, projects his thoughts to Merlin, "I'm scared, Emrys. They will kill me. Don't do this. Don't ignore me. I know you can hear me. I thought you were my friend. We're the same. I don't want to die. Emrys, Emrys, Emrys!"
"Hey!" Arthur and Mordred turn around to see Merlin on the other side of the gate.
"Where the hell have you been?" The prince seethes.
"I had trouble getting out of the castle," He lies. Mordred knowing this narrows his eyes at Merlin.
The warlock attaches the grappling hook and pulls off the grate. Picking him up, Arthur sets the boy on his horse and then climbs on behind him.
Turning back to his servant he instructs, "If my father asks where I am, I've gone on a hunting trip. You'd better make yourself scarce, or they'll execute you in his place."
Merlin nods and takes one last look at the boy. "Goodbye, Emrys. Please remember that the dragon is wrong about me."
Arthur watches as the young boy is led away by the Druids, but then he remembers something.
"Wait, I don't even know your name!" They turn to look at the prince. "At least tell me your name." he insists.
Mordred bristles slightly and looks into the emerald eyes of the Lady Le Fay.
She smiles down at her kinsman, "It's all right."
Looking at Arthur, the boy uses his voice, "My name is Mordred."
The name stirs something in the prince that he can't quite explain, like his need to protect the boy when they were in Camelot. Nodding his head, he says, "Good luck, Mordred."
And with that, the Druids disappear into the trees and Arthur returns to Camelot.
...
The Druids return to their camp, but Vivienne, Valeria, and Mordred linger go past it, walking to where the river laid beside an archway of trees.
Vivienne smiles down at the boy. "So, you had quite an adventure young Mordred."
"Yes, my Lady," he answers courteously.
Valeria laughs softly, "So well-mannered," she muses, causing Mordred to blush slightly.
The elder twin swats her sister's shoulder. "Oh, leave him alone, Valeria, he cannot help who he is."
Her sibling nods, "Indeed." Seeing the boy's apprehensive posture, she asks, "What's wrong young one?"
Looking between the two women he voices what is wearing down on his mind, "Do you think that I did anything to help?"
And then he sees them wearing identical smiles, but it is Vivienne that kneels in front of him and gently places her hands his shoulders. "Even the smallest person can change the course of the future." His recognition of the words brings a smile to his face. "Go on," she goads while gesturing to the archway, "Go back home."
The boy doesn't hesitate. He sprints under the arch of trees, feeling all the magical energies flourish around him. His heart practically leaping in his chest as he sees a clearing in the trees and a whole procession of people waiting for him, but he's only looking at two people: his parents.
Bounding straight for them, he collides with his father's chest and feels his mother's fingers running lovingly through his hair. "Mordred," they say in their usual identical fashion and he beams at them, "Welcome home."
Author's Note: Thanks for reading and please review. If there's anything that you'd like to see in future chapters, let me know, I'll try to put it in.