Chapter 12
She rapped her knuckles softly on the door.
"You may enter," said a male voice on the other side. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door to the King's private solar.
She hadn't been invited here all that often. Uther typically saw her at mealtimes or during any of the usual courtly activities, so there was little need for him to call her to his private rooms.
But of the dozen or so times she'd been in this room, one thing was always the same: she was in trouble.
And as per usual, she also knew why. Although she hoped Uther didn't know the whole of it.
"Your majesty," she said softly, putting on a show of doing her best curtsy. It was all she could do not to tremble.
"No need for that here, Morgana," Uther said with a dismissive wave of his hand.
"Of course," she said with an overly bright smile. "You wished to speak with me?"
"Yes," he said seriously. Then abruptly sat in one of the many plush chairs scattered around the room. "This isn't an easy conversation for me to have."
He knows about the swordfighting. He knows about Merlin. He knows about everything.
A trickle of sweat ran down her clammy back as she waited impatiently for Uther to start. What would he do to her? What would he do to Merlin? Oh God, he'd likely behead Merlin all because of her stupid and rebellious actions. Or maybe he didn't know about swordfighting….maybe he just knew about Merlin's late night visit to her chambers? Oh God, he'd be headless either way.
"Yes?" she said as innocently as possible. Her mind was running away with possibilities. What did he know? How could she protect Merlin?
Uther sighed rather dramatically and finally said, "It's rather difficult for a King to admit he's wrong."
"What?" she said loudly, astounded. Wrong? What was he wrong about? Well, aside from the obvious things? And why was he admitting this to her?
He smiled an indulgent smile at the befuddled look on her face. "I'm sure I've shocked you, but yes, it's not easy for a King, well, for me, to admit that I'm wrong. People depend on me to make decisions. If I can't have faith in my own voice, how will anyone else?"
She continued to stare stupidly at him, still uncertain of what to say. What was he wrong about?
Cooly, he said, "You see, it was wrong of me to ban you from sword fighting. I've seen your talent a number of times. And you were right, it's a skill that has saved you on multiple occasions."
"I was right?" she mumbled, stunned at the complete turn around, at the confession. Why was he admitting this to her?
Rising to stand in front of her, Uther placed his hands on her shoulders paternally and looked into her eyes. "Yes, my dear, you were right. And I was wrong. I will no longer ban you from engaging in such activities, even activities that aren't particularly…feminine. But don't start carousing down at the pub or swearing a blue streak. Even I can't ignore that."
Dumbfounded, she could only nod and say, "Certainly, your majesty. I wouldn't dream of it." Although she fought to keep a blush from her face. If only you knew…
He straightened, the regal tones back in his voice, "I told you here so as to not make a production of it. I do have an image to maintain. I've already notified the proper channels and no one will stop you from sword fighting again."
"Thank you, sire," she said and actually meant it. What a turn of events! No more sneaking around, no more worrying, she could do as she pleased or at least do as she did before.
She turned for the door, but paused just as she was about to open it, questions still on her mind. "Sire, if I may be so bold as to ask, what changed your mind? Aren't you still concerned that I won't be marriageable?"
He smiled, a genuine and warm smile. One of the first she'd seen directed at herself in quite some time. "My deepest hope for you and for Arthur is that you'll find love in marriage. When I married Arthur's mother, we didn't marry for love. It was an alliance, one that's served me well here at Camelot. But I came to love her, very deeply. She saw all of me, the full range of my person. And that's what made us fall in love. So I figured that if I wanted you to fall in love with the man you marry, I'd have to let you be yourself. Because clearly any man who would fall in love with you would have to accept all of you, including some of your more…unsavory activities. But maybe you can keep that underwraps until after the ceremony."
She nodded then pulled open the door and left.
Her mind was swimming with what had just transpired. Uther had relented. She'd won.
She could swordfight anytime she wanted. She could engage in her other activites.
She should be feeling euphoric, she'd finally be able to participate openly in the things she'd been denied. No more sneaking around. No more hiding.
But instead of feeling happy, all she felt was the same bone-deep ache she'd felt all day.
Merlin, her mind whispered. Merlin, who had hurt her. Merlin, who had told her everything about her destiny, about the damage she would cause.
And yet…Uther's words ran through her mind. She saw all of me, the full range of my person.
Merlin saw her magic. He saw all the evil she could do. All the anguish, the pain, the hatred she could feel.
And yet still he loved her.
Magic was so frightening. So terrifying. She'd needed a friend and yet, Merlin had denied her that one comfort. He'd bared his soul, telling her a secret that could easily have him killed. And how had she responded? With distance and coldness, throwing his secret and his honesty back in his face. What cold comfort that must have been after his confession. It was almost like…his response to her confession. She'd withdrawn when he needed her the most. When he was the most vulnerable….just like he'd done.
Maybe he had a right to question her then. She was still upset, still angered by it….but maybe it was understandable given her previous behavior. She wasn't blameless, God knows. She'd tried to kill Uther in the past, at least indirectly. And given the chance…she wasn't sure what she might do again.
But Merlin said she had a good heart. He said she was loyal. Loving. And if he could believe it, maybe she could too.
They needed to talk. In private. She doubted he would come to her chambers even if she asked. So how was it to be managed? She'd noticed he was suspiciously absent from the lunchtime service.
She pushed into her chambers, to see Gwen straightening the room. A sudden idea struck her. "Gwen, I need a favor. A big one."
"Merlin!" said a soft feminine voice behind him, "Merlin!"
He turned at the sound of his name being called. A castle maid ran towards him. Sarah, she was a sweet girl, a year or so younger than him. Kind. Friendly. And she'd shown something of an interest in him for the past few years. Giving him bright smiles when no one was looking, sneaking him a few extra sausages from the kitchen. He liked her.
She was definitely "someone on his level" as Arthur had put it. And while he hadn't encouraged her advances, had shown her some of the same friendship he'd given Gwen, he knew if he let himself he could've eventually cared for her.
But that was impossibility. He was doomed a long time ago. For who could love kind and sweet Sarah, when one's thoughts were constantly consumed by Morgana?
Noticing the look of barely restrained alarm on her face, he said, "What is it, Sarah? What's wrong?"
"It's Gwen. She left a little while ago, claiming to be sick. I'm worried that it might be some of this whooping cough business. I think you should check on her."
"I'll find Gauis. He's probably-," he said, turning to leave.
"Gauis is gone, out checking on other patients in some of the villages outside the city walls. It'll have to be you," she interrupted.
"Thanks, I'll go straightaway," he said
He nearly ran to Gwen's little home. He tried to be calm. For all he knew, it could just be something minor. Gwen was hearty and strong, she rarely got sick. Maybe it was just a cold or something equally less serious.
As he hastened towards her door, he noticed there wasn't a candle burning inside the little house. It was after sunset, if Gwen was in there, she would need light.
Worried, he knocked loudly, "Gwen? Gwen? Are you in there? Sarah told me you were sick, I've come to check on you."
He received no answer. What if Gwen was too sick to even get up? What if she was too weak to answer his call?
He turned the knob slightly and realized that the door was unlocked. "I'm coming in, alright?" he said, pushing open the squeaky door.
The room was dark, nearly pitch black, but he could just make out a figure on the bed.
Making his way over, he whispered, thinking she might be sleeping, "Gwen? Are you alright?"
"Perfectly alright now that you're here," said the voice from the bed. Only it wasn't the sweet and motherly tones of Gwen's voice that answered, but rather the husky and sensual voice of one Lady Morgana.
"Morgana? What are you doing here? Where's Gwen?" he said hoarsely. His eyes had adjusted quickly to the darkness and he could make out her shape in the soft moonlight. She was seated on the bed in her James clothing, her hair spilling down her back. Had her manly clothing always looked so...delectable? The fabric seemed to pull against the very curves of her body, making him eager to run his hands down the S bend from her ribs to her hips. How had he not noticed before how utterly feminine she was? Frankly, he should've noticed. Or at least have questioned his sexuality much sooner.
"She's at the castle. We've switched rooms for the night," she said calmly, making his eyes snap back to her face.
"For the night?" he said, suprised.
"Yes, the night." She rose from her place recling against the bed and walked to stand in front of him. "Look, I wanted to apologize for last night."
He took her hand and said, "There's nothing for you to apologize for. It was my fault. I should've-"
"No, it was me. I should've listened to you. Given you a chance. Here you'd told me such a well kept secret. An important one and I pushed you away."
"Like I did?" he said.
"Yes, like you did. But I don't want it to be like that between us. Not anymore."
He framed her face with his hands. "Me either. You have to know, Morgana, how much I love you. How much faith I have in you. Destiny is such a frightening word, it puts such a heavy handed dose of fatalism on what we do. But it doesn't have to be like that. We can find another way. We make our own reality and with you by my side, I think we can make whatever type of reality we want," he whispered intensely.
He saw her smile through teary eyes. "I want that too, Merlin. I want that so much. I know that I'm capable of darkness. Of evil. But aren't we all? I've felt so alone at Camelot these last few weeks, so isolated. But I'm not alone. With you, I'll never be alone again."
"Never," he promised, his lips covering hers. It was magical. That seemed the only way to describe the wonderment, the love, the connection that flowed through them. He knew that when he was old and senile, when he couldn't remember his own name, he'd remember this moment, this kiss, this woman. Until his dying day.
FINIS
Don't worry, we're DEFINITELY not done in Gwen's. If you're hankering for some hot lovin', may I shamelessly suggest my other story, "A Thin Line" to keep you satiated. One thing I did enjoy about S3 of Merlin was how the writers juxtaposed Evil!Morgana with her previous self through a recast of several important moments from S1. The alcove in moment in S1.13 or the rogue mission to Merlin's town. Those moments were the making of Morgana and Merlin's friendship and now, the undoing of that friendship.
Thanks for the reviews!