Sorry for my prolonged absence, I have been crazy busy this month but I wanted to update one more time before Christmas. I hope you enjoy the early present.
Aithusa was waiting outside Merlin's chambers for Morgana; at the sight of her friend, she happily flapped her wings and rose a couple of feet into the air for a moment before settling down. "How is Merlin?"
"Still sleeping, I'm afraid." The little dragon's face fell as Morgana continued, "I need to speak with Kilgharrah; can you take me to him?"
"He doesn't like you. Could eat you," Aithusa objected.
"I don't think he will, though. He may not like me, but I think he and I have an understanding now. At least we can agree that we both care about Merlin very much, and want to protect him. I need Kilgharrah's help to protect Merlin, and our whole kingdom, from a very mean witch-"
"Nimueh? She's a mean witch. Yelled at me for being too noisy."
"Even meaner than Nimueh. This witch is the reason Merlin, Gwen, and I went away for so long, and why he's hurt now. I need Kilgharrah to tell me what I must do to stop her from hurting a lot more people."
Aithusa nodded somberly. "We have to go outside to see Kilgharrah - he's too big to come inside. Follow me." Taking to the air, she led the way out into the vast gardens behind the castle, where Kilgharrah was stretched out under a cluster of shade trees.
At first he appeared to be snoozing, though his amber eyes opened as they approached. "Ah, little witch, I did not expect you so soon."
"When I have a disagreeable task before me, I prefer to get it over with rather than prolonging the agony. So tell me, dragon, what do you want from me in exchange for forging a sword that can kill the undying?"
"Oh, nothing much - I merely require you to relinquish your destiny."
"You want me to die!" Morgana cried.
The ridges above Kilgharrah's eyes furrowed in a frown. "I do not; I confess that I would end your life here and now if necessary, but I believe there is another way. In the forest, I saw your love for Merlin, and it gave me hope that you would be willing to do what you must to circumvent the dark fate prophecy has handed you. It is foretold that Merlin will have a son whose heart will turn to evil, and he will cast all of Albion into darkness; no reference was made to the mother, but as Merlin's mate you are the likeliest candidate. The two of you may have the power to defeat him, yet I doubt either of you would have the heart to kill your child, even to lift the shadow of his wickedness from the land. This is why I named you as Merlin's doom, because of what your love will bring upon the world and the guilt he will feel over it. It will destroy him."
In the silence that followed this revelation, Morgana heard herself gasping - she felt as if she had been plunged into an airless vacuum where she couldn't breathe. She recalled Merlin telling her that not every prophecy was fulfilled…yet some were, and as a seer, she put more stock in them than he did. There was no way to tell which ones would come true and which would not, except that a prophecy's outcome could be influenced by the actions of the people it pertained to. Morgana could have avoided being Merlin's doom by never choosing to deliberately do anything to hurt him and trying her best not to lead him into harm's way, but she had no control over what a child of theirs might grow up to do…nor did she know if she could bring herself to kill that child, however monstrous he became. The only way she saw to safeguard against Kilgharrah's dire prediction was to prevent this prophesied son of hers from ever coming into the world in the first place.
"What are you saying? That we cannot marry?" she asked in a voice that trembled with barely suppressed tears. "That I must break our engagement?" At that, her tears spilled over; she would remove herself from Merlin's life if she had to in order to spare him the pain of creating the instrument of destruction for the kingdom he held dear - she loved him enough to make that sacrifice for him, but stabbing herself through the heart would have been easier. It certainly would have hurt less.
"If you try, he will talk you out of it. If you fled to some obscure, faraway land and hid yourself away in a hovel, Merlin would still follow you to the ends of the earth. Far better for you to remain here, marry him, and simply refrain from bearing his child."
"How do you suggest I do that? Refuse to consummate our marriage? A woman does not have that right," Morgana snapped bitterly.
"I know little of human mating customs, but I do know magic that will ensure nothing comes of your union. You will be free to do as you like with no fear of the consequences."
Morgana wasn't convinced. "You mean Merlin and I can be together, and I will have no children?" When Kilgharrah confirmed that that was exactly what he meant, she said, "I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I fear this isn't the perfect solution you think it is. It is a wife's duty to provide heirs-"
"Merlin will love you no less if you do not," the dragon cut across her.
"Didn't you just say you know little of human mating?"
"I do, however, know the hearts of my dragonlords, even those who have yet to come into their powers. Rest assured, little witch, Merlin's heart is yours. It will always be yours - the love you and Merlin have for one another will endure until the end of time. How long Albion endures is up to you."
"Do as you must then." As long as Merlin's feelings for her remained unchanged, Morgana didn't mind giving up her ability to bear children; after a lifetime of being taught that her highest purpose in life was producing heirs for her husband like a human broodmare, she wanted none. Having Merlin's children would have been tolerable, but not something she wanted badly enough to risk death by a dragon's claws, and she doubted she would leave this meeting alive unless she agreed to let him sterilize her. He had made it abundantly clear that he considered her life an acceptable price to pay to prevent what he was certain would be the end of the world as they knew it.
Kilgharrah blinked. "Perhaps we should wait until you have regained more of your strength-"
It was Morgana's turn to cut him off. "No, you will do it now! I want it over with, and with the wedding rapidly approaching, this may be the last time we can be alone."
"As you wish. You are very courageous, little witch…" Opening his jaws wide, he blew out a stream of air that Morgana expected to be scorching yet was actually no hotter than a mild spring breeze.
She hardly felt the warmth of his breath, though, conscious only of his ancient, inhuman magic surging through her, overwhelming her as if she were no more than a tiny, fragile strand of seaweed caught in a tidal wave… Then white hot agony blossomed in her midsection, obliterating her awareness of anything beyond the pain.
When at last it ebbed, Morgana found herself doubled over, clutching her stomach; she probably would have been writhing on the ground if not for Kilgharrah's talons supporting her. "What did you do to me?" she gasped in a voice hoarse from screaming while the dragon's spell did its work as she forced herself to stand up straight despite her body's protests and pushed her curtain of black hair out of her face. "Goddess, it feels like my insides were liquefied!"
"I am sorry to have hurt you, little witch." Kilgharrah actually sounded sincere, which surprised Morgana. "I only hope that one day you realize I spared you a much greater pain."
"I know… Thank you. I'm sure it would have been easier for you to simply devour me instead of finding a way for Merlin and I to be together."
"Easier? Do you truly think it would be easy for me to cause Merlin such heartache?"
Morgana blinked. She didn't see Kilgharrah as the caring type, yet both times she had seen them interact she supposed he had shown a measure of affection for Merlin…in his own dragonish way. "No, I guess not," she murmured, looking down at her shoes.
Kilgharrah rumbled deep in his throat as he peered down his snout at the diminutive sorceress; granted, it was not in a dragon's nature to get overly attached to humans, not even the dragonlords they depended on to help perpetuate their species - although there were rare exceptions, like that rebellious, impetuous Aithusa - but there was something about Merlin that made it almost impossible not to care for him. Perhaps I should have kept those feelings to myself; I cannot let the witch think me a sentimental soft-scales. "I believe I owe you a sword, witch," he said gruffly.
"Yes, I believe you do. I shall fetch one."
"You should have brought one with you." Kilgharrah gave a condescending shake of his head. "When bargaining with dragons, never give anything without first securing repayment. One less scrupulous than I would take advantage of your naivety and simply take to the skies the instant your back was turned."
"But a dragonlord could always summon you back," Morgana said sweetly, "and I just so happen to know one who thinks of me like a daughter. Now, I am going to see about that sword, and you had better be here when I return."
"Choose one of good quality, little witch; if I must imbue a weapon with the most lethal power I can bestow, I should not like it to be a shoddily made scrap of tin."
###
On her way to the armory, Morgana encountered Gwen; the maid was hurrying along the corridor with her head down, not watching where she was going, and they almost crashed into one another. "Good heavens, Gwen!" Morgana exclaimed as she caught her shoulders and moved her aside so they could pass each other. "Whatever's the matter?"
Gwen looked up, and Morgana was startled to see that her eyes were red and teary. "It's nothing, my lady."
"Nonsense - I can tell you've been crying. What's wrong?"
"I can't tell you," Gwen insisted, shaking her head. "You'll think I'm despicable."
"What? Gwen, I trusted you with the secret of my magic. Do you remember what you said when I confessed that I hadn't told you before because I was afraid of how you would react, that you couldn't believe I could be so stupid as to think you would ever hate me? Well, it goes both ways. You can tell me anything, and it won't make the slightest difference in my opinion of you."
Staring down at her shoes, Gwen whispered, "I kissed Arthur. Well, actually, Arthur kissed me-"
"What!" Morgana shouted again. "How dare he take advantage of you like that? All the times I beat him at swordplay when we were children will be nothing compared to the trouncing I'll give him for this…"
Gwen seized her sleeve as she started to storm off. "No, Morgana, wait! He didn't take advantage of me. I mean, I didn't ask him to do it - I had no idea he was going to - but once I got over the shock I kissed him back. I…I liked it."
Morgana gaped at her in openmouthed astonishment for several long seconds, during which Gwen's face grew steadily redder. When she could speak again, she stammered, "But…it's Arthur. You are talking about Arthur Pendragon, my foster brother, the most arrogant, spoiled, immature ass in all Albion, aren't you - not some other Arthur?"
"Yes, he's still the only Arthur we know. He really isn't any of those things anymore, though - that is, I guess he's still your foster brother, but he's not any of the other things you said. I've tried to tell you before how he's changed, and now he's the sort of person someone might actually want to kiss…except I shouldn't have, not when I already had someone."
"Sir Lancelot," Morgana exclaimed. She'd completely forgotten the handsome knight who was so enamored with Gwen. "Is that why you think what you did was despicable, because you shouldn't have kissed Arthur with Lancelot courting you?" Her voice took on a quizzical tone on the word 'courting', because she wasn't sure if Lancelot had ever begun officially courting Gwen; with no balls or feasts for him to escort her to, it was hard to tell if they were together or not.
Gwen hung her head. "I'm very fond of Lancelot, but I never knew beyond a doubt that I was in love with him, and I thought I should - I thought my heart should pound and my head should spin when I saw him if I loved him. Does that happen to you when you see Merlin?" she asked anxiously.
"Sometimes," Morgana admitted, "especially when he kisses me. No, don't ask me about that now; we're talking about you. So you are not passionately in love with Sir Lancelot. Are you in love with Arthur?"
"I don't know if I love him either, but I do have some feelings for him. More than I feel for Lancelot, anyway, or I wouldn't have let Arthur kiss me; I wouldn't have wanted to kiss anyone else. So, knowing that I don't feel as strongly for Lancelot as he does for me, I told him that we can only be friends. That's why I was crying just now - he's a good man, and I hated having to hurt him, but if I didn't end things between us now I think I would only end up hurting him more later…not that that made it any easier."
Her eyes welled up again, so Morgana hugged her until she got her tears under control. "I know, Gwen - it's never easy to hurt someone you care for, even when you can't make yourself care for them in the way they want - but as always, you did the right thing."
"I'm not as goodhearted as you make me out to be, Morgana," Gwen sniffled. "The worst part was how kind and understanding Lancelot was about the whole thing; he really is one of the finest men I've ever known, and I wish I could have loved him like he deserves."
Morgana wished Gwen could have loved Lancelot too, especially since even with her precognitive powers she couldn't see how Gwen and Arthur could possibly have a future together. He would return to Camelot once Morgana and Merlin were married, and Gwen would presumably remain in Dagon with her lady. Even if she went back to Camelot, Uther would never allow his only son and heir to wed a mere servant. She voiced none of her concerns, though, instead playing the supportive friend and assuring Gwen that Lancelot would find happiness with someone else. She avoided the subject of Gwen's affections for Arthur - she found the idea that her smart, loyal, brave, kind best friend could fall for such an undeserving prat utterly incomprehensible and preferred not to dwell on it.
Her words seemed to help, and before long Gwen had stopped crying, wiped her face, and put back on her customary cheerful expression. "Thank you, Morgana, you're very kind to interrupt whatever important business you have to deal with for me."
"No matter; my business isn't urgent." Kilgharrah can damn well wait in the garden until I see fit to get back to him. "I was just going to look for a sword."
"A sword shouldn't be hard to find."
"It can't be just any old sword, though - I need the best one in the palace. No, the best in the entire kingdom."
"Maybe I can help. Before he died, my father forged his masterpiece, a sword so magnificent that he never sold it. He said it was meant for someone with true greatness in their heart, but he never found that person. When we left Camelot I brought it with me, to remind me of him…and in case I happened across whoever it was destined for. I think you should have it."
"Gwen, I couldn't possibly… I can't ask you to part with your father's masterpiece!"
"And I don't want to…but this feels right. Father made me promise that if I ever found the person meant to carry his sword I would give it to them, but I've kept it for him so long that I'd stopped looking - I mean really looking. I had almost forgotten…until you said you need a special sword just now, and then it came into my head as clear as day. I'm not a huge believer in destiny, but, well…"
Morgana's spine tingled as if ghostly fingers had just run up her back. "May I see it?"
"Of course." Gwen led the way to her room, opened the trunk that held most of her belongings, and dug through her clothes, piling them on the bed. At the bottom, she found a long, cloth-wrapped bundle. Laying it on top of her small pile of neatly folded dresses, she carefully unwrapped it and was gratified to hear Morgana's admiring gasp as she revealed the elegantly tooled silver and gold scabbard. "Beautiful, isn't it?"
"It is," Morgana breathed. She came up beside Gwen and reached out, her fingers stopping just short of the gold-worked hilt. "May I?" At Gwen's nod, she reverently drew the sword and thrust it at an imaginary foe, marveling at the slender blade's perfect balance. "It's the most perfect weapon I've had the pleasure of holding." Even her favorite jeweled dagger didn't compare. This was a sword Kilgharrah should be proud to invest his power in. "Thank you for this wonderful gift, Gwen."
"Well, I do want one small thing in exchange for it."
"Oh? And what would that be?"
Gwen grinned. "All the details of every time Merlin has kissed you, of course!"
And there we have the creation of Excalibur, hooray! I promise to wake up Merlin in the next chapter, and Balinor will make good on his promise to reward Gwen for helping Morgana break Morgause's spell on Merlin.