Morgana stood frozen as Uther approached. He greeted Arthur with more warmth than she had suspected the man capable of before turning his uncharacteristically bright smile on her, yet when their eyes met her heart felt as if it had turned to ice.
Just try to remember the good times you had with him, Merlin suggested. He treated you well when he became your guardian, didn't he?
Oh yes - to assuage his conscience after sending my father to his death, no doubt! Morgana snarled. Try as she might to follow Merlin's advice, she could only see Uther as the man who destroyed her family and countless others whose only crime was being born with gifts he didn't understand and therefore feared - being different from him.
Then he was pulling her away from Merlin and embracing her, and she somehow forced herself to return the gesture even though her arms felt like they had been replaced with a wooden puppet's limbs. The smile she gave him felt equally stiff and unnatural, and she hardly recognized the sound of her own voice when her mouth opened and only polite inquiries about the ease of his travel to Dagon came out instead of the invectives she was dying to hurl at him.
She thought her inner turmoil must be obvious - surely someone would realize she wasn't appropriately overjoyed at being reunited with her foster father and ask what was the matter, and the prospect of being given such a perfect opportunity to publicly denounce Uther filled her with both exhilaration and terror - but nobody commented on her strangely cool demeanor. Miraculously, even Uther himself noticed nothing, although their nearly intolerable embrace seemed to last an eternity.
Once he finally let her go, things seemed to move very fast; the delegation from Camelot was led off to the castle's most luxurious guest quarters, and Morgana was able to slip away and find a place where she could be alone…almost. As she huddled against the railing separating the terrace where she'd taken refuge from the courtyard below, trying to rub away the crawling sensation Uther's arms around her, holding her close, had left on her skin, a familiar hand gripped her shoulder. She spun around and threw herself at Merlin, who held her tighter than Uther had without giving her the same feeling of being smothered.
"You're shaking," he observed, feeling the tremors racking her frame as she pressed against him.
"Facing him was harder than I expected, and given that I didn't expect it to be easy in the first place, that is no small thing."
"You handled it better than I would have if I were in your place, though - no one could even tell how tense you were."
"Except you, apparently."
"Well, Father always said a man should be adept at reading his wife's moods. It's an important survival skill."
That drew a reluctant, strangled-sounding laugh from Morgana, but it died out quickly. "I don't know if I can last through an entire week of this, Merlin. I kept thinking that at any moment he would realize I'm no longer his loving ward, or accuse me of witchcraft, or-"
"Stop it. I know you can do this, and Uther won't figure out a thing. You're stronger than he is, Morgana, and you aren't going to let him ruin what's supposed to be the happiest day of your life, are you?" She stared intensely into his eyes, drawing strength from his faith in her, and slowly shook her head. "Besides," he added, "you're going to be so busy during the next week that you'll barely have to spend any time with him at all."
###
Merlin was right about that; the week passed in a whirlwind of revelry, and Morgana was right in the center of it. With more guests arriving every hour, tournaments and festivals every day, and balls every night, each more lavish than the last, so much of her time was taken up with greeting nobles from every corner of Albion, receiving wedding gifts, watching performances by jesters, jugglers, acrobats, and players in the town square, handing out prizes to the knights who won in the tournaments (Arthur, Lancelot, Sir Leon from Camelot, and Gwen were frequent recipients), then heading back to her chambers to dress for the evening - which was spent bantering with more people than she'd spoken to in all the past eighteen years of her life, sampling a never-ending parade of culinary masterpieces from the royal kitchens, and almost nonstop dancing - she hardly had a second to spare for Uther.
He attended every event, of course; Morgana was constantly aware of his presence, but with so many others clamoring for her attention she had a perfect excuse to keep her conversations with him brief, and she never had to worry about being alone with him. Unfortunately, the same was true of Merlin, even though he was never far from her side.
"I wish this pageant were over," she whispered to him on the sixth night, when they had snatched a few moments of relative privacy by dancing together. "I wish we could throw all these people out and have the castle to ourselves."
Merlin just rolled his eyes and reminded her that she loved being the center of attention, and anyway the wedding was tomorrow. "Just be patient for a few more hours."
Those hours seemed to drag on forever, but at last everything was ready. The last tournament had been staged, the throne room had been decorated, the food for that night's feast had been cooked and placed under a stasis spell to keep it from spoiling (after their tremendous efforts over the last week, the kitchen staff had the day off) and Morgana had threatened Gwaine with castration if he got drunk again and caused a disturbance.
The only thing left to prepare was the bride herself, so Morgana spent her final hour as an unmarried woman getting washed, exfoliated, manicured, combed, plucked, perfumed, made up, and finally dressed in her exquisite wedding gown. Then Freya styled her hair with a clip made of a large diamond surrounded by pearls, while Gwen wound white roses into the curls that tumbled freely down her back.
"Thank you for doing this, Gwen. You know you didn't have to since you're not a maid anymore."
"Of course I did - as if I would miss the chance to help my best friend get ready for her wedding! You look so beautiful…" Gwen's voice trailed off into what sounded suspiciously like a sniffle.
"Thanks to you and Freya." With the last rose in place, Morgana stood up from her dressing table and turned to face her attendants. "I would hug you both if I wasn't afraid of ruining your hard work. Now, go enjoy yourselves."
Just then there was a knock on the door, which Freya opened to admit Uther. She and Gwen curtsied and quickly slipped out past him. Uther frowned at them, or more specifically at the flowing blue silk Gwen wore. "You must do something about that serving girl, Morgana; she never seemed the type to put on airs, yet her behavior in this kingdom is appalling, dressing herself in the manner of a minor noblewoman and attending banquets without serving anything."
Since Gwen always wore a helmet during the tournaments, Uther had somehow managed not to notice her change in status. Morgana would have loved to point it out to him, but she could imagine how he would react to any commoner being knighted, let alone a female one, and she didn't want to start a fight with him during the short walk from her temporary ground-floor dressing room to the throne room, so she just nodded and said, "Yes, my lord."
Then Uther turned his attention to what Morgana was wearing, and his frown deepened. "This is your wedding gown?"
"Yes, my lord. Do you not like it?"
"Well, it is very…ah…translucent. Is there no more substantial fabric in Dagon? I can practically see through that skirt. You shall have to put on something else; I will not take you out there in that."
A little light did shine through the skirt's chiffon layers, but it wasn't nearly as transparent as Uther made out. Morgana squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath to calm herself. The ceremony was going to start in about ten minutes, and she was not going to walk in there an angry, disheveled mess just because Uther thought her gown was too revealing. "It was made by the kingdom's most renowned dressmaker," she said through clenched teeth. "King Balinor spent a great deal of gold so I could have a dress befitting this occasion, and I am not going to change now. Spurning his generosity and going to my wedding in one of my everyday dresses would be a disgrace."
Before Uther could argue, a trumpet fanfare signaled that Merlin and Balinor had arrived. Morgana was supposed to make her entrance soon after them. Uther jumped and looked around wildly; suddenly it became clear that his disapproval of her dress was the least of his reasons for being reluctant to escort her to the altar. "I cannot do this," he muttered. Morgana let out a startled squeak as he lunged forward and seized her head between his hands. "You have always been like a daughter to me, Morgana; I cannot leave you here in this godless pit of corruption and devilry, I cannot hand you over to that sorcerer, I cannot see you bound for life to one of those heathens, I should never have listened when Gaius suggested it…"
Morgana pried his hands off her face and dug in her shiny buffed nails, cutting off his increasingly unhinged rambling. "My lord, you ordered me to marry Prince Merlin when I did not want to, because it was the right thing for Camelot. You told me I must put aside my personal feelings for the good of the kingdom; now you must do the same."
Uther stared at her, his eyes bright with tears and a rather maniacal gleam Morgana had never seen there before; she hadn't expected him to be any different than he'd been when she'd left Camelot, but suddenly she wasn't so sure. "But how will you live with him, Morgana?"
Biting back what she wanted to say, that she would live much more happily with Merlin than she ever had in Camelot, Morgana replied, "Whatever he is, Merlin has treated me well. Now please, my lord, don't make this harder than it already is."
Swallowing hard, Uther stiffly offered her his arm, and they made their way to the throne room. Morgana hardly recognized it - the whole room had been scrubbed floor to ceiling and festooned with silver ribbons and garlands of dark greenery and white roses matching those in her hair. The throne had been moved off its dais to make room for the wedding party, and the large Ambrosius family crest that hung behind it had been joined by the house of Gorlois' crest, along with a smaller Pendragon banner to represent Morgana's adoptive family.
Her eyes passed over the elaborate decorations, though, over the huge audience in their most glamorous finery, and went straight to the group of people on the dais. Balinor and Arthur stood off to each side, and in the back was Nimueh, wearing a dress that appeared to be made of spun gold and an enchantment that made her look plain and nondescript to anyone without magic - she had said it was best if Uther didn't recognize her, though she wouldn't explain why - but the only one Morgana really saw was Merlin. He was still in his customary black, but this outfit was of much finer cloth, and his shirt was embellished with gleaming silver thread that matched the design on Morgana's bodice. In place of his usual scarf he wore a silver cape that shimmered in the light and rippled like water, held on by a heavy chain of precious metals, and his crown. Morgana had never seen him look so handsome, and she wanted to let her face fall into the same thunderstruck expression that passed over his when he saw her, but somehow she managed to stay composed.
Uther looked like he was heading to his execution as they paced down the aisle together, but no one noticed; they saw nothing except Morgana, who, with her pristine white gown, sparkling diamond jewelry, the stark contrast of white rose petals against her black hair, and especially the effervescent smile that only grew brighter as she approached Merlin, was the embodiment of ethereal beauty. No one could take their eyes off her. Then she reached the dais and stepped up beside Merlin, and the two of them together were somehow even more breathtaking.
You look… I'm sorry, 'beautiful' doesn't even come close to describing you, Merlin told her when they were finally facing each other, a mere foot apart.
And you, my love - I'm the luckiest girl in all Albion.
Will you both quit your mooning and pay attention? You'll have plenty of time for gazing adoringly at one another after this is over, Nimueh interrupted, though she didn't sound as harsh as usual. Hold out your right hand, Merlin.
He did, and after a split second's hesitation, Uther took Morgana's right hand and placed it in Merlin's, then moved back to stand with Arthur. Nimueh wrapped the handfasting garland around their joined hands, then asked, "Merlin, do you take this woman as your wife, swearing to love and honor her as long as you live?" Through thought-speak, so only the three of them could hear, she rephrased the question as, Do you take this sorceress as your wife, knowing and accepting her gift and her duty to use it for the good of all, swearing to love and honor her as long as you live, to share with her all that you are, and be bound to her for eternity?
"I…do," Merlin said slowly, wondering where the extra words at the end came from. Rewording the vow to acknowledge that Morgana had magic and confirm that he was marrying her with full understanding of what it meant to be a sorceress' husband was appropriate - in fact the marriage may not have been valid otherwise - but he didn't know why Nimueh had added that last part…until he felt her drawing out his magic. Nimueh, what are you doing? This wasn't supposed to be part of it! Stop!
She gave him what he guessed was meant to be a reassuring smile. Trust me, Merlin. And he had to, because he'd already given his consent, and she had his magic in her grasp. It was too late to stop what she intended - he could only hope she knew what she was doing.
"Morgana, do you take this sorcerer as your husband, knowing and accepting his gift and his duty to use it for the good of all, swearing to love and honor him as long as you live?" To share with him all that you are, and be bound to him for eternity?
Morgana answered, "I do," immediately, and then Nimueh extracted a thread of her magic as well and silently recited the incantation to link it with Merlin's. The two separate strands of magic twined around each other, briefly testing their fit before merging completely to form something new and stronger which then split in two and flowed back into Merlin and Morgana. What returned to each of them wasn't the same as what Nimueh took out, though; there was something of the other mixed in.
This ritual had been part of marriage between sorcerers and sorceresses since time immemorial, to bring them closer together and allow them to strengthen each other by sharing their magic, though of course there had always been those who chose not to use it, to be married simply by law. There were also those who perverted the ritual to increase their power by siphoning it from someone weaker, or to impose their will on their mate, as Morgause had done to Cenred. Merlin had been afraid the same thing would happen to Morgana if they attempted to combine their magic, but now he saw that her magic, while not as advanced, was strong enough to join with his without being overtaken by it. She truly was his equal in every way.
"You are now one," Nimueh declared, "bound by oath, by law, and by love." And by magic. What the Goddess joins together, no earthly force can break apart. You're allowed to kiss now.
So they did - quite enthusiastically - as the audience broke into applause. Their kiss felt like it lasted a very long time, yet it wasn't nearly long enough before Balinor gently pulled them apart. "I hate to interrupt, but we have one more ceremony to perform today. Morgana, if you'll kneel over there…" He gestured at a velvet cushion a servant had just placed on the dais.
She sank gracefully to her knees before the king, her skirt fanning out around her, and he began. "Do you solemnly swear to govern the people of this kingdom and its dominions according to the customs, statutes, and laws laid down by your predecessors?"
"I do."
"Do you promise to exercise mercy in your deeds and judgments?"
"I do."
"And do you swear allegiance to the kingdom of Dagon, now and for as long as you live?" Balinor asked, holding out his right hand.
Morgana glanced sideways to where Arthur and Uther stood watching. This was it - the moment she officially gave up her old role as a ward of the house of Pendragon and stepped into her new one. Arthur flashed her a quick smile as their eyes met; he actually looked proud of her, and for once he wasn't trying to hide it. She smiled back before answering, "I, Morgana, of the houses of Gorlois and Pendragon, do pledge myself to your service, and to the protection of Dagon and all its people," and bending forward to kiss the ring of office adorning Balinor's middle finger.
"Having proven yourself ready to take part in the governance of this kingdom, and as wife of the crown prince, you are now entitled to join the royal line of succession." Balinor turned to Theodosius, who had just taken possession of a gold-tasseled velvet pillow bearing an elegant tiara from Will, picked up the tiara, and held it aloft. It was a lovely thing, made of silver with a single diamond set in its center. "Therefore, by the power vested in me, I crown you, Morgana, princess of Dagon." He gently lowered the tiara onto Morgana's head, and the crowd went wild.
Amid the thunderous clapping, laughter, cheers, and music, Merlin stepped in to help her to her feet. "Well, Princess Morgana, are you ready to go greet your adoring subjects?"
"Yes, although I don't know how 'adoring' they'll be."
Merlin just grinned like he knew something she didn't as he led her out to the palace's front steps, where as many people as could cram themselves into the courtyard waited, craning their necks for a glimpse of their future rulers. At the sight of them, the crowd exploded, cheering, screaming, singing, and tossing confetti in the air. Kilgharrah and dozens of his kin wheeled and dipped overhead, roaring joyfully and putting on a spectacular pyrotechnic display by adding color-changing spells to their flames. Morgana was stunned. "All this for me?" she whispered in amazement. She'd been well-liked in Camelot, but the people had never greeted her this enthusiastically. "It's almost a full-scale riot out here!"
"Everyone's heard how you saved me from Morgause - you're a hero to them, Morgana. They're thrilled that you'll be their queen someday."
They stood there and waved for a minute before proceeding down the steps to where Merlin's black stallion and Morgana's white mare waited, decked out in silks, bells, flowers, and streamers in their tails, to carry them through the city so they could be seen by everyone who couldn't fit in the courtyard. Behind them were another black, a chestnut, and a dapple gray stallion for Balinor, Uther, and Arthur, and a whole platoon of bays for the knights who would accompany them. Aithusa wove through the procession, leaping up and performing spontaneous midair flips, beside herself with happiness (with her scampering around their legs, the horses were beside themselves for a different reason, but Merlin soon calmed them).
Everyone mounted up - though Uther kept darting nervous glances up at the dragons and hunkering down as if he wanted to leap out of his saddle and run for cover; it didn't help that a few of the younger ones pretended to dive at him, until Balinor saw what they were doing and commanded them not to terrorize guests - and Kilgharrah got the dragons into formation so they could follow overhead as the parade headed out into the city.
Well, the long-awaited wedding finally happened, hooray! And Uther didn't go nuts and turn it into a Game of Thrones-esque Red Wedding even though he did have a little last minute freakout. That bit wasn't planned, but it happened and I let it stay because it struck me that it might have seemed out of character for him to let the girl he loves like a daughter marry a sorcerer without a fuss, even if he did sign off on it earlier. He's just not reasonable when it comes to magic.
If you're curious what Morgana's wedding dress looks like, here's what I was picturing when I wrote the chapter:
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It's not as skimpy as Uther seemed to think, but being, well, Uther, he probably would've wanted her to wear something more like this:
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