-Fourteen-
Reunion
Merlin dusted himself off, looking for Ryll. She was lying on the floor a few feet away, unconscious. There was a trickle of blood running down her temple. "Ryll!" He pulled her into his arms. She was covered in dust, but she moaned when he held her. She was all right, just a little dazed. Coming into the castle had been a bad idea. Merlin pulled Ryll into his arms and carried her out of the castle, setting her down when they reached the well in the courtyard. He lowered the bucket, which was surprisingly still intact, and drew water. He pulled a scarf from his bag – one that he used to wear on a daily basis – and drenched it in water. Then he cleaned off Ryll's face and her wound. It was shallow and stopped bleeding after he cleaned it. She opened her eyes and peered up at him.
"That scarf," she said, fingering the red cloth. "I remember it." She looked up at him, and he felt his heart give a hopeful jolt. "You wore one everyday."
"I did," he said, his voice weak with relief. She was beginning to remember. "Are you all right? I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken you in there. It was too dangerous."
"Are you kidding?" she asked. "You couldn't have kept me out." She struggled to get to her feet, and Merlin helped her up. "It's getting dark already," she said, looking up. Merlin hadn't realized they'd been in the castle for that long. "Where's the stone?" she asked.
"It's about two hours away on foot, but it's getting too late. It will be dark by the time we reach it, and you shouldn't be traveling a long distance."
"I'm fine." She waved off his concern.
"No, let's get a hotel room for the night. We're dirty and tired."
Ryll looked down at her clothes and winced. "All right. A shower does sound nice right now."
"Then it's settled. We'll come back tomorrow. Maybe we can find some horses and cut some time off our trip."
They walked slowly back to Merlin's car, trying to dust themselves off as best they could. As they got into the car, Merlin placed his bag on the backseat with care.
"You really miss him, don't you?" Ryll asked.
"Who?"
"Gaius."
"Yeah, I do really miss him. My time in Camelot was the best of my life despite all the hardships. I always came back to a safe place to sleep and someone to guide and care for me. I couldn't ask for more."
"That does sound nice." She sighed, and Merlin wondered what it must be like to have false memories, to be unable to remember who she really was. He didn't understand how this all worked, didn't know why she'd been given a false past. He'd learned not to question the intricacies of magic and prophecies.
They drove for an hour before they reached any signs of civilization. It was dark by the time they found a suitable hotel and pulled into the parking lot. They rented one room with two beds and took turns in the bathroom. After Merlin was showered, he pulled a fresh T-shirt over his head and found Ryll lying on her stomach on one of the beds flipping through channels. She'd changed into sleep shorts and a loose fitting tank top. Merlin tried not to stare. It was so strange suddenly having her so near, and yet she wasn't quite Ryll just yet.
Her honey curls were still wet and draped over her shoulders and back like ribbons. The blue strand was nearly black. He wondered what Ryll would have thought of Liz. He realized he was staring when she looked over at him and asked, "What?"
"Nothing." He sat down on his bed and watched the television as she worked the remote. Finally, she settled on the movie channel.
"So, what do you think will happen when we pull the sword from the stone?" Ryll asked, turning away from the TV. "Who's going to pull it out anyway? I suppose you since you put it there with magic. Well, the first time."
"We'll both pull it out," he said.
She stared at him. "Okay," she said, a smile forming on her face. "I never thought I'd say this, but I'd love to try to pull Excalibur from the stone."
"It is a rare opportunity," he agreed.
"So, first thing tomorrow we acquire two horses and set out for the stone. Then we make our way back to Arthur and give him the sword. He wakes up and we figure out what we're all supposed to do. Also those are the strangest three sentences I have ever said."
"If it all goes that smoothly, then yes."
"You think something might happen?" she asked, turning over to look at him.
"I just wonder who else is out there," Merlin replied vaguely. "Clearly someone else is aware that you're back. I just wonder who it was."
"I wish I knew," Ryll said. "I'm going to call Morgan," she said after a pause, "and let her know what's going on."
Merlin nodded, and Ryll pulled out her cell phone. He noticed that she'd made the picture of her sitting on Arthur's throne her background picture. He smiled at that.
…
"We'll get the sword tomorrow and then go wake up Arthur," Liz said on the other line. "Has anything exciting happened there?"
"No, nothing," Morgan replied. She wasn't ready to tell Liz about her meeting with Morgause and Nimueh. Something held her back. She wanted to form her own opinions about people. Or maybe she was just afraid that Merlin would tell her that Morgause was evil and she should stay as far away from her as possible. He had told her what Morgause had done, but Morgana wanted to believe that if she had been given a second chance, so had Morgause. After their meeting that morning, Morgan had felt torn. Morgause had asked Morgan to think about joining A.V.A.L.O.N. to help other magical people learn to use and control their powers. Again Morgan had said she'd think about it. She felt an instant kinship to Morgause, but she knew that their bond was what had caused Morgana to turn against her own friends. Morgan wasn't going to make that same mistake. A.V.A.L.O.N. seemed like a legitimately good cause. Helping people had once been her passion. Helping magical people sounded like as good a cause as any. She just wanted to make sure that Morgause and Nimueh were on the right side this time whatever the right side was. She didn't want a repeat of history.
"That's good. Is Owl behaving herself?" Liz asked on the other line. "Morgan?"
"Oh, yes, she's been good company. Be careful tomorrow Liz."
"I will." Liz hesitated and then asked, "Is there something going on? You can trust me Morgan. We're in this together."
"I'm just afraid of who else might want the sword or who might want to stop you. We don't know who's out there," she said.
"We'll be careful," Liz said. "I'll call you tomorrow after we get the sword, okay?"
"All right. Talk to you later."
Morgan ended the call and sat staring ahead at the drawing of Camelot. It was a reminder of what she'd had and what she'd lost. She got ready for bed and settled in on the couch, eyes still set on the drawing. Owl wormed her way under the blankets by Morgan's feet, settling in for the night. Morgan couldn't fall asleep for along time, but when she did, her dreams were restless.
She woke up in the middle of the night after having a particularly bad nightmare. In her nightmare she'd been asleep when someone had broken into the flat and put a cloth over her nose. She'd tried to fight them off, but whatever the cloth had been soaked in knocked her out. When she came to, she was in a dark room. A man stood silhouetted against a window. He turned and, in a moment of panic, she recognized him. Then she had woken up feeling more frightened than she ever had before in this life. She heard a click and then quiet footsteps. It wasn't just a dream, it was a premonition, she realized. And it was happening right now.
Owl was standing and had arched her back, letting out a low hiss. Morgan grabbed the closest object – her book on famous women – and wielded it like a weapon. She positioned herself in the corner of the room, holding the book before her like a shield. She heard rustling. There was more than one person. She readied herself as someone walked into the living room. As soon as he came in range, she brought the book down on his head and made a run for it. He fell with an 'umph' to the floor where he lay unconscious. She ran straight into another man.
"I'm sorry," he said as he pressed a cloth over her nose. A sickly sweet smell filled her lungs, and she felt herself losing consciousness. She fell into the man's arms and he held her until everything turned black.
…
The room swam into focus as Morgan regained consciousness. It was the same room from her vision. She was lying on a black leather couch and saw that a desk sat straight across from her. A man stood behind it, silhouetted against the window. It was dark outside, but a lamplight gave the room some source of light. The man turned around as if sensing she was awake. She recognized him from her vision, but past that she had no idea who he was. He had short grey hair and matching grey eyes. A scar ran down the right side of his forehead at a slight angle. He held himself tall as if he was a person of some importance. When he saw that she was awake, his eyes widened in joy.
"Morgana," he said, coming forward.
She shrunk back and he stopped short, eyes flickering in confusion. "Of course, you don't remember who you are," he said. He stood where he was.
"Who are you?" she asked.
Pain crossed over his face, but then it faded. "This is a chance for us to start over," he said, not quite answering her question. "We did not leave the last life on the best of terms. I fear I drove you away and caused you to turn against me. And for that I am sorry. You were my greatest regret. I didn't raise you the way I should have. I should have told you that you were my daughter and showed you how much you meant to me instead of driving you away and hiding that from you."
"Your daughter?" Morgan realized who this was. This was Uther Pendragon. This was the man who had driven her to turn against all of her friends and all of Camelot. Her father.
