Hello! Just wanted to let y'all know that I haven't died, nor is this story abandoned. I just had one of my periodic attacks of writer's block.
Warning: Morgana is angsty in this chapter, Gwaine is the world's snarkiest wingman, Gwen is totally awesome, and Arthur and Uther are...well, Arthur and Uther. 'Nuff said.
The next two days were some of the busiest, most emotionally exhausting of Morgana's life. Her departure from Camelot was rapidly approaching, and there suddenly seemed to be so many places which held some special meaning for her that she needed to visit one last time, so many people for whom she held sufficiently high regard to merit a long, private farewell, that she doubted she could do it all in the time she had left.
Saying goodbye wasn't the only thing she had to do, either. "We need to go through your dresses," Gwen reminded her over dinner, "and decide if you want to take all of them so that I can begin packing. Of course, after the wedding you'll be a crown princess, so you may need to replace everything with a new, grander wardrobe. And we don't even know what the fashions are in Dagon - we've only seen what the men wear. They seem to like black, though, so maybe we should-"
"Stop!" Morgana exclaimed; her head was spinning. "Can't we sort out my clothes tomorrow?"
Gwen sighed and patiently said, "No, tomorrow we're visiting your father's grave; that'll take most of the day, so I'd hoped to start packing tonight." She nodded at the large wooden chest that had been carried in earlier.
Morgana had avoided looking at it all day. "Very well. I suppose we'd best get on with it." She stood up, leaving her food untouched, and began pulling out every gown she owned.
Three hours later, she and Gwen finished inspecting dresses - Morgana liked most of her gowns too much to part with them, and hoped very much that they would still be fashionable in her new home - and moved on to other things. Morgana quickly decided to keep all of her jewelry except for a necklace set with pink crystals that Arthur had given her for her twelfth birthday even though he knew she hated pink (in fact, she suspected that was the reason he had picked it out). Her hairbrush collection, on the other hand, underwent drastic reductions; she had no use for twenty-five hairbrushes, but they tended to accumulate since she received at least four on every birthday.
At last Gwen announced, "Well, I think we've done enough for tonight. Are you ready for bed?"
Morgana said that she was, so Gwen helped her undress, brushed her hair, poured her sleeping draft, and began putting out the lights. Staring down into the dark liquid she was about to drink, Morgana experienced a moment of panic - Gaius had been treating her for her nightmares for so long; how would she ever manage without him? - before a different fear, one that she had been suppressing all day, pushed its way to the forefront of her mind.
What if all her agonizing over leaving Camelot was for nothing? What if Merlin was killed defending his kingdom from the monsters that had invaded it? She had asked Geoffrey of Monmouth if any of his books mentioned wyverns, hoping that if she learned something about the creatures she might be able to picture how Merlin would fight them, only to be told that Uther had ordered the royal library purged of all references to magical beasts years ago. Denied solid information, she was left to guess at what characteristics a wyvern might possess.
Her experience with monsters was limited to a brief sighting of an afanc and a dream of a dragon, so her imagination lacked material from which to form a picture of a wyvern. Instead it presented her with images of Merlin's corpse - his pale skin going cold and taking on the grayish pallor of death, his beautiful eyes turning lifeless and empty as the soul behind them departed . . .
Morgana shuddered, almost spilling the sleeping draft which she still hadn't drunk, and suddenly realized she didn't mean to drink it. Perhaps, if she forewent the potion, she could see Merlin in her dreams as she had once seen Arthur. Of course, her dreams rarely showed her anything good . . .
It is still better to know than to be tormented by ignorance. Before she could think better of it Morgana poured the potion out under her bed and gave the empty cup to Gwen with a smile.
Gwen patted her on the back. "Sleep well, my lady."
"I'm sure I will." Morgana lay back against her pillows, closed her eyes, and concentrated on her fiancé, willing herself to sleep and dream of him. Show me Prince Merlin. Morgana repeated this command to herself as she allowed her consciousness to slip away, and the dream unfolded immediately as if it had been inside her head all along, simply waiting for her waking mind to get out of the way.
The first thing she saw was Merlin; the rest of her dream slowly filled itself in around him. He was outside a huge white castle that glittered in the last rays of the setting sun, along with the knights of Dagon (minus the company that were still in Camelot) and his uncouth manservant. They all seemed to be waiting for something, and were growing anxious as the thing they were waiting for didn't happen.
"It's been hours," Will said in a low voice. "Don't you think he should be back by now . . . unless he's-"
"If you're bored you can leave, Will," Merlin snapped. He didn't care if Balinor was taking longer than expected to drive the wyverns away; he wasn't about to entertain the notion that harm might have befallen his father, even though the rebellious part of him was already making plans to find Gwaine and go looking for Balinor - never mind that the king had ordered all his men to stay where they were in case they needed to defend the townspeople from a stealth attack. Gwaine wasn't a knight, so Balinor's orders didn't apply to him, and as for Merlin . . . well, his father never got very angry with him.
A clatter of hooves on cobblestones cut Merlin's musings short as Balinor galloped in on his black warhorse. "The wyverns aren't happy about being chased out; they're going to join the rest of their flock and attack in force. Depending on the size of the flock, they may be a match for me even with my dragonlord's powers. We'll have to fight them. Get your weapons and saddle your horses, men! We regroup here in ten minutes."
Gwaine joined Merlin and Will as they hurried off to fetch Merlin's sword. "What are you doing here?" Merlin asked him.
"I'm coming with you, of course," Gwaine answered, his tone clearly conveying that he thought Merlin an idiot for having to ask. "Freya told me that you never require Will to go into battle with you because he isn't a knight-"
"Neither are you! I won't have my friends putting themselves in danger-"
It was Gwaine's turn to interrupt. "I wasn't asking for your permission, sire. Besides, since you left Sir Prancelot in Camelot, I figure someone has to be there to save your ass."
###
"Morgana. Morgana, it's time to get up."
Morgana's eyes snapped open and she glared daggers at the person shaking her, furious that her dream had been cut off at such a crucial moment, before realizing that Gwen could hardly have done it on purpose.
The maid backed away, a bit unsettled by her best friend's expression. "My lady? I'm sorry, but you really need to get up now. There's a lot to do today."
Morgana's anger ebbed as she was hit with a sudden, overpowering awareness that this would be her last day in Camelot - she was scheduled to leave for Dagon tomorrow at first light. For a moment this affected her so strongly that she felt herself quite incapable of movement.
"Morgana?" Gwen said worriedly. "Are you ill?"
"No, I'm fine." She forced herself to get up and act as though it were just another day; spending hours in bed brooding over the drastic changes in her life wouldn't help anything.
Going through the motions of her normal routine was easy until she went down to the courtyard and found Sir Lancelot and the knights from Dagon waiting for her instead of the ones that usually escorted her when she visited Gorlois' grave. Sir Lancelot gave a deep bow and explained, "Your king thought it would be a good idea for my men and I to accompany you today . . . to give us a chance to become better acquainted. Though I must confess I do not know where we're going . . ."
"That's all right. I can show you the way."
"Thank you my lady." Lancelot bowed again and helped Morgana mount her horse, then did the same for Gwen. Morgana decided that she liked his chivalrous manner - it reminded her of Sir Leon, who she had greatly admired as a little girl - and the fact that he extended the same courtesy to Gwen that he did to her, despite the difference in their stations.
Or perhaps, she mused as they set off, his treatment of Gwen is not motivated only by chivalry? Could Lancelot be interested in her maid? A frown creased Morgana's brow as she considered this possibility. On the one hand, Gwen could use a good man in her life. On the other, when noblemen showed interest in serving girls their intentions were frequently less than honorable. Morgana resolved to keep an eye on them, and be ready to scare the knight away from her friend if necessary.
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"My father's grave is just at the top of that hill," Morgana announced, pointing out the tall stone monument that marked Gorlois' final resting place. "I wish to go up there alone." She didn't feel that she could say a proper goodbye to her beloved father with all these strangers watching. To her annoyance, they all looked to Lancelot to decide whether they should obey her.
He surveyed the area and declared the hill a defensible location; his charge should be safe enough without that they stayed right with her. "We'll surround the base of the hill and keep watch, my lady. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call us."
"Thank you, but you needn't put yourself to such trouble for my protection." Morgana pulled her cloak back to show him the dagger that hung at her waist.
Lancelot was unimpressed. "It's our duty to see that you never have cause to use that." His dogmatic tone made it clear he would carry out his duty to his dying breath.
Morgana smiled, inwardly thanking every deity she had ever heard of that Merlin wasn't as stubbornly proper as his best knight. "Come, Gwen - our time is growing shorter."
On the hilltop, Gwen stood back a little while Morgana knelt by Gorlois' tombstone, recounted the events since the war's end up to the present and poured out her heart on every topic from her anger at Uther for using her as a pawn in his political maneuvering to her confused feelings for Merlin. "He seems to have a good heart, but everything I know about sorcerers tells me otherwise. Prince Merlin is still young, though - what if magic corrupts him when he's older? What if I fall in love and then have to watch him become a monster?" She pounded her fist on the ground in a sudden fit of frustration. "Or what if I never love him? He intrigues me because he is so different from every other suitor I've had, but suppose I am simply trying to force myself to feel more than I do, knowing that I have no choice but to marry him? Although Uther told me that you would have approved of this match, Papa, I believe he was sorely mistaken!"
After a while, when she ran out of things to say, she simply sat there and cried - for the father whose absence she still grieved over, for her childhood when she wasn't a king's ward and would never have been married off because Gorlois would have allowed her to choose her own husband, she was sure of it, and there were no mysteriously attractive sorcerer princes complicating her life . . . for the time when she had someone who loved her unconditionally, who cared for and protected her and demanded nothing in return.
Her best friend's hand fell gently on her back, a silent reminder that her father wasn't the only one ever to care for her. Gwen felt she had to do something - Morgana only went to pieces like this after her worst nightmares, and even then she rarely cried. Seeing the tears she was usually so skilled at suppressing always worried Gwen.
Morgana sniffled. "Thank you for being here, Gwen. I don't know what I would do without you." She rose, brushed her fingertips over her father's tombstone one last time, and turned away, wiping away all traces of her tears - it wouldn't do to let the knights see her so vulnerable.
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That night Morgana took her sleeping draft; she had a long journey ahead of her and needed rest, although she wouldn't put it past Uther to simply bundle her into a wagon along with the chest carrying all her worldly possessions if she was too out of sorts to ride in the morning. It felt like scarcely a moment passed between her lying down and Gwen shaking her awake, but it had been long enough that she felt refreshed.
Breakfast was a subdued, rushed affair and was interrupted twice, first by the servants who came to collect Morgana's belongings, and then by Gaius, who had brought enough sleeping potion to last Morgana through her journey as a parting gift. "I've also written down the recipes for the remedies that have helped you the most, so make sure you give them to Balinor's court physician."
"I will," Morgana assured him.
"And try not to let your dreams frighten you."
"I won't."
"And . . . take care of yourself, child."
Morgana impulsively pulled the old man into a hug. "Oh, Gaius, I am going to miss you! You've been such a good friend to me since my very first day in Camelot-" She broke off, feeling herself choke up and determined not to cry anymore.
Gaius, discomfited but pleased, gave her an awkward pat on the back. "There, there, my child."
The door opened and Arthur entered in his accustomed manner: unannounced and uninvited. "Morgana, are you decent? I- Whoa!" He stopped cold, eyes widening at the sight of his sister embracing the elderly physician. "What are you doing? You're engaged to another man, and Gaius is old enough to be your grandfather!"
Morgana laughed and released Gaius. "Oh hush, Arthur, I was merely bidding farewell to an old friend."
Arthur didn't answer; he still looked mildly disgusted.
"What did you come in here for, sire?" Gwen asked, hoping to diffuse the tension before a fight broke out between Arthur and Morgana.
Arthur shook himself. "I came to tell you girls that it's time we were on our way. The entire court is waiting to see us off."
A lead weight settled in Morgana's stomach. "Very well." She cast a last look around the chambers where she had lived for the last eight years, but they were rather bare and impersonal now, having been stripped of her effects last night. It's almost as if I was never here. Then she followed Arthur out, shutting the door of her private sanctuary behind her for the last time.
In the courtyard Morgana found her escort already mounted and waiting for her. Cedric stood with them, holding the bridles of hers and Arthur's horses, while a stable hand held onto his horse and Gwen's. Of course, Arthur can't go anywhere without his odious lapdog. Uther was also there, along with all of his knights and every noble in the castle, many of whom looked as though they'd rather still be sleeping than standing out here, watching the departure of a girl most of them hardly knew or cared about, except that her position as the king's ward had made her the most powerful woman in Camelot.
"Morgana!" Uther smiled broadly and embraced her, but Morgana felt hardly any of the warmth she had experienced while hugging Gaius. She wondered if Uther was only putting on a show of affection for the benefit of his courtiers. "I wish you well, my child. My years with you in my care have been a true blessing to me."
"Thank you, my lord." She kissed his cheek, partly because it was expected of her and partly because this was the most genuine sentiment she had heard from her guardian in a long while. "You will attend my wedding, won't you?"
"I wouldn't miss it for anything." Uther personally helped Morgana mount her horse, said a few words to Arthur, then stood back and watched as they moved into position at the head of their party and set off.
Several people came out to wave and call out their good wishes to Morgana as they passed through the town; she had always tried to be a friend to the people of Camelot and was touched to see their fondness for her. "You're quite popular this morning," Arthur commented.
"I suppose I'd best enjoy it while it lasts," Morgana replied, thinking of Merlin's servant Will and wondering what reception awaited her in Dagon.
Once they left the main city of Camelot and entered the open countryside the knights rearranged themselves, forming a protective human barrier around Morgana, Gwen, and the wagon loaded with everyone's things, many of which were valuable enough to tempt thieves. Arthur was allowed to ride in front with Lancelot, much to Morgana's annoyance. "I've beaten Arthur at swordfighting countless times," she complained to Gwen, "yet these fools think I need protecting more than him!"
"Well, you'll soon teach them better."
"Yes, I suspect I'll have to."
Half a mile down the road, Morgana, Arthur, and Gwen paused on a hilltop to look back at the citadel of Camelot. "Hard to believe it could be weeks, even months, before we see it again, isn't it?" Arthur said quietly.
"You need only remain in Dagon until my wedding, and Gwen can return to Camelot any time she wants," Morgana reminded him. Gwen frowned at her as if to say, You know I'm not leaving you. "I'll be staying a bit longer."
"You'll visit though, won't you?" Arthur demanded.
"Not right away; I expect I'll have to spend some time solidifying my position as princess of Dagon before I can leave to visit my old home. But yes, I'll come when I'm able."
"Oh, good. I can't imagine who's going to aggravate me out of my mind if you're not around." Arthur turned his horse around and trotted onward to catch up with Lancelot.
Morgana stayed where she was a moment longer, gazing back on her former home and reflecting that even if she did return later it would be as a visiting foreign dignitary, not as a citizen of Camelot. She wouldn't belong there. At last Gwen said, "We should go, my lady - we're holding everyone up."
"You're right, of course." Morgana forced a smile for her friend, cast a last longing glance back at the place she would never call home again, then turned away and rode forward into the unknown.
Next chapter will have more Merlin, and Morgana discovering that road trips can be unpleasant when there's no place to bathe and you have to wear the same clothes for days on end.