The forested path was quiet and empty, the last rays of golden light filtered through the branches of the oaks as old as time. Deer moved across the path and squirrels chattered above, arguing or raving about stolen acorns. Below the peacefulness was disturbed by a crashing of underbrush. Moira and her mare emerged with a crack of a branch. How dare that infuriating man—he wasn't even a man! Bloody fool sorcerer! Moira stormed through the forest, cursing and grousing. Her mare Garnet was trotting behind her, completely at ease to just follow her mistress. "How could he do this Garnet?" She walked beside the horse, scowling. "He has the nerve to probe into my mind, and view my private thoughts, my memories!" She let out a breath, letting the new darkness of the forest envelope her. She threw a hand out in front of her, and a line of twinkling lights lit the path for her. The river was at the end of the path, she knew she would find peace there; some serenity.
He sat alone in his room. His hazel eyes went to the window, the stars were shining brightly. He judged the time and frowned. She had been gone for three hours, alone at night. With a sigh he closed his eyes searching out, almost immediately he cursed and held his cheek. Only that woman could be able to smack him from at least a mile away. "You want to be difficult, fine." He rolled over on his bed and tried to sleep. It wasn't long before he was wide awake and itching to get up. Irritated he left his room, pulling on a pair of pants as he went. He turned down a new hall and opened the door at the end. "Moira," he spoke softly. The figure on the bed rolled over. "Moira?"
"Merlin?" A voice asked as the body sat up.
The sorcerer's eyes widened. "Kay?"
"You've got the wrong room." Kay replied with a laugh.
"Oh…apologies." Merlin backed out of the room. Thought about it for a moment, then turned toward the hall. He counted the doors and growled. She was toying with him. He opened the door again to find Moira giggling. "Was that really necessary?"
"It was only a little pay back." Moira flicked a hand lighting the torches and the hearth. His mouth watered as he gazed at the naked woman. It shouldn't have affected him. He should have been able to gaze at her as if she weren't there. "Did you get what you wanted earlier?" She asked toying with a strand of hair. She had found a place that she could sit and relax, she was more serene now, much more peaceful. Merlin couldn't break that.
Merlin smirked. "I was curious, you were weak."
"Weak?" Her hand dropped. "Weak."Her tone had hardened.
"That's what I said." Merlin walked over to her and sat on the edge of her bed. "Why must you taunt?" He asked. She furrowed her brows then looked down at herself. With a blush staining her cheeks tugging up the fur blanket. "Shy all of a sudden?" He pulled the blanket down despite her protest. Her breath hitched as the back of his hand brushed her breast. "See Moira, it is not wise to tease a man on the edge…" He drew back at the knock on her door. Moira pulled on a shirt that was beside her bed. "Come in." Merlin answered for her, despite the scowl she gave him when he head came through the half pulled on shirt.
Arthur poked his head in; on impulse both rose and bowed. "None of that, it's too late for it," the young man winced. "It's getting old."
"What brings you here?" Moira leaned forward intrigued.
"I had an idea."
"A good start when becoming king," She teased. He smiled at her. "What kind of idea?"
"A ball."
"No." Merlin stated as Moira said "Not happening." Arthur stared at both of them for a moment before laughing. "Alright, never mind."
"Well, think of it this way, we'll be vulnerable if we do that," Moira began.
"And we have nowhere to do it; our main concern should be rebuilding Camelot."
"And it is, but we need to boost moral after the last fight with Lot."
"A feast." Moira said. "We will save the ball for next month, Solstice to be exact." She pondered it for a moment. "We should be done with the castle by then, wouldn't you say Merlin?" She flicked her grey eyes to his brown, with an arched brow.
"Around there, yes." He nodded in agreement. "So all in all a good idea just not yet." He smiled reassuringly at Arthur. "We'll be by you."
"Are you two—" Arthur glanced between them.
"No, no God no." Moira and Merlin denied it disgust written on their faces. Merlin rose and with Arthur beside him bid goodnight to Moira. Once she was alone she flicked her hand dousing the torches. Snuggling down in her furs she wished for a man to curl up against as she had in the meadow in Ireland, when she had been sure Ian had loved her. She closed her eyes and dreamed.
The magpies were flying above them as they lay in the green meadow, purple heather hiding the lovers. Moira sighed happily as Ian turned his head toward her, his fingers idly stroking her shoulder. "One magpie means sorrow," she said softly as the magpie landed. Ian shifted uncomfortably. Two more joined the magpie. "Three for a wedding." She let her gaze wander back to the sky. Ian rolled on his side, stroking a hand down her face before kissing her. She lost herself in the kiss, so warm, so tender. She felt her heart melt. They made love, as they had never before, and she felt there was bitter sweetness to it, even as she rose above him, riding him. She collapsed on him as he released. She rolled off of him, curling back up in the warm sun. She waited for him to snuggle with her as he had before; instead he rose, pulling on his britches. "Ian." She sat up, her glossy brown hair falling forward over her pale skin. "What is it?"
He turned toward her, eyes hard. "Moira, I'm betrothed."
"What?" She stared, grey eyes wide with shock; tears gathered but did not fall. She would at least keep that pride. "What do you mean?"
"I have asked your sister for her hand—" Ian finished dressing. "I'm sorry." He left her that day amongst the purple heather and the three magpies. She wept, so hard that she swore her heart would give gray eyes that were wounded, she turned them to the sky and swore she would never love anyone ever again.
Merlin awoke with a gasp clutching at his chest. Well, he supposed it would serve him right for sending her a dream and watching it play out. Feeling a little sorrier for it then he intended Merlin rose from the bed and walked down the cold hallway to Moira's room. He ignored the wrenching in his heart as he heard the weeping. With a sigh he opened the door. The hearth was barely glowing, the room so cold his breath hung in the air. He tossed some wood to fire it up more and then knelt beside the bed. "Moira," he whispered, stroking his fingers down the side of her cheek. It was dry. She was still dreaming, he frowned. "Moira, wake up." He shook her slightly. He cursed harshly as the dagger slashed at his face. "Alright, alright—" He pinned her arm down. Realization struck her and the knife fell from her hand. "Sorry, sorry." She crawled back amongst the furs muttering her apologies. Merlin sighed sat on the beds edge. "Come here." He patted the space beside him.
She scooted over and reluctantly nestled down beside him. Merlin mimicked her position and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. "It was you wasn't it?" She gazed at him in the flickering light of the fire. "The dream." He didn't answer. "I know it was. I haven't had that dream in over a year…" She cuddled closer into the furs, seeking warmth.
"I'm sorry," His voice sounded rough in the quiet. "I wasn't thinking." He brushed lips across her temple. "Forgive me little one."
"I'm not so little," Moira said with a yawn.
"To me you are." He smirked even as she grunted. He gazed at her for a few moments; once he was sure she was sleeping he touched his lips lightly to hers. "Tonight you will dream of good things." He brushed the fringe of hair off of her face and closed his eyes for a few moments.
And she did. She dreamed of a land where no fear was there, where the sun always shone. Where Arthur sat as king and with a young blond by his side ruled the land of Camelot and all of Britain. And she was there, happy, never without a tall man by her side. When she awoke and gazed into the empty spot where Merlin had been she realized he was the man in her dreams, and smiled. "Now you dream," she whispered closing her eyes, focusing. "And take me with you." He shared in her dream of the new land, in the marriage of Arthur to the woman. He saw Moira and himself owning a patch of land as Lord and Lady. She had a garden in the shape of a Celtic cross. Herbs and flowers bloomed as she sat amongst them the sun shining down on her as she filled her basket with herbs and fresh flowers singing all the while. And when she turned toward him he saw she was with child. In his sleep he smiled and reached out for the woman that wasn't there.