He had brooded long enough, Merlin thought as he paced his quarters. She didn't have any right to discombobulate him this way. In curiosity he reached out for her. She was with her brother, both a relief and a curse. He heard her laugh as he hadn't before and pulled away. She was happy, he wouldn't disturb her from it, but the king however could.

An hour later Arthur was walking through the woods, a choice made with the persistence of Merlin. And as they walked he heard a haunting song. Curious he followed it, the drum beat, and the pipe calling to him. He glanced at his companions, Merlin and Kay. They entered the meadow that held the waterfall and river. In the middle with a fire burning sat the Irish clan. Balin on the Bodhran, Larkin on a fiddle and Cal had a pipe. Moira's voice rang out strong and clear. Merlin smiled, it was just the song he needed Arthur to hear. Strong and clear Malcolm and Moira sang in harmony, even though the two honed their swords, they kept in time with each other.

"I am the voice of the past that will always be
Filled with my sorrow and blood in my fields
I am the voice of the future, bring me your peace
Bring me your peace, and my wounds, they will heal"

The trio continued to hear the song before applauding. Merlin gazed at Moira for a long moment as she drank from her canteen. "Would you sing that part again?" Merlin asked suddenly. She glanced up brows furrowed. "I have an idea…"

Across the land Morgan and Lot lay side by side on their bed, plans of the coronation in their minds when suddenly the air was filled with music. Morgan growled. "How dare they be celebrating! How dare they be—singing!" Furious she rose from her bed. "Go yell at your men for doing so."

He stared her wide-eyed. "T'isn't the men my dear…tis witchcraft."

Morgan's eyes narrowed. "Merlin and that miserable wretch that was him."

"Is she a pretty wretch?" Lot asked ignoring the shriek of anger.

"That was brilliant," Balin praised as he walked beside Merlin. "Fucking brilliant. She'll be livid."

"She is." Merlin affirmed with a wicked grin. Moira who rode on the back of Calder shook her head and rolled her eyes muttering childish. Malcolm lifted her off of Calder's back. "Grow up Moira, or grow back down. You've been much too bitter since Shannon got betrothed."

"I thought we agreed never to speak about that." She muttered.

"Why not?" Larkin inquired.

"It's his own loss that he bedded you then—"

"Enough!" Moira's shout echoed loudly. Arthur's eyes widened slightly at the sudden command and tone. Up till then he hadn't ever seen her angry, and now he could say he was glad she was on their side. "I don't see any of you courting anyone so keep off of my back about a failed relationship ya bloody imbeciles!" She stormed a head of the group, cursing her brothers.

"Who was courting her?" Kay asked.

"Lord Ian of Killkenny," Larkin said darkly. "He dragged her through the dirt, bedded her and then took our other sister in marriage." He watched his sister dip down to pluck a wild flower. "She hasn't really gotten over it."

"He broke a young girl's heart along with her hope," Balin sighed. "I'll kill him." He stated, the fury from two years before stronger than ever.

"Still angry?" Calder asked with his eyebrows raised.

Balin turned toward his brother. "Aren't ye? He dared ta lie with her and then marry her sister."

"I've let it go." The Irishman said with a nonchalant shrug.

"Really?" Larkin asked in astonishment. "I haven't."

"I have a wee bit." Balin finally admitted stopping to swat a bug away from his face.

"Mal have ye?"

"Shannon's a bitch and her husband's no better," Malcolm replied combing his fingers back through his brown hair. "Ya know Moira's always been my favorite sister."

"That's because she's like a brother," Calder stated dryly. "No man will ever marry her. She's too tall, too stubborn, she's not that pretty, she's hell to listen ta when she's mad, she's not obedient…"

"Are ya finished?" Malcolm intervened, dark eyes glaring viciously. "She is yer sister and has saved yer arse on more than one occasion." Calder scowled at the eldest brother but remained silent.

"She'll find someone who'll match her in all those areas." Balin stated. "I know she will. Even if we have ta push some men toward her."

"Playing matchmaker brother?"

"If need be."

"There'll be a ball in three weeks," Arthur stated. "Maybe then?"

"Brilliant." Balin grinned. Merlin watched Moira pluck another flower and tuck it into her hair, no it was not brilliant because he realized he wanted her for himself, but he was too stupid to admit it.

The others headed back to Camelot without Moira and without Merlin. The men were used to the two having solitude and didn't question it. He followed her at a distance watching the collection of flowers. She looked peaceful, happy even. She turned toward him as if feeling him there and smiled softly. "Flower?" She held out a pure white blossom. He approached her and took it from her fingers, twirling it. "Tis an Elder blossom." He sniffed it with a smile and strode beside her as she went about gathering more.

"What's this one?" He plucked a pink blossom from a tree and held it out.

"Cherry Blossom." Moira replied.

"Blossom," he cocked his head, tucked the flower into her hair. "Beautiful."

"They usually are," she said dryly.

"And no one really notices it," he circled the tree, she watched him brows furrowed. "But it blooms perfectly, bringing forth both beauty and poise. It grows into a wonderful, tall tree and those that are lucky enough get to experience it up close."

"We stopped talking about the tree awhile ago didn't we?" Moira asked as he stopped in front of her.

"Yes," he smiled. She shook her head walking away from him. "Are you really so oblivious to how you look?" Moira heaved a sigh and turned toward him. "Why deny it?" He asked finally.

"Because no one but ye believes it Merlin." She shrugged. He gave her a disbelieving look. "They don't," she cried out with a glower. "Ask around, ye'll get the same damn answer."

"I have asked around," He appeared on the other side of the tree, blocking her path. "They all say you're beautiful."

"And I say yer full of shit." Moira plucked a wild rose from the bush beside them. "They have thorns," she handed to him. "Just like me." And with that she departed.

Merlin stared down at the rose. "But they're just as beautiful." He whispered, his brown eyes flicked back to her disappearing form. "Damn fool Irish."

-0-0-0-

"Why do you look so sad?" Guinevere walked into Moira's room. The woman was seated by the fire, lacing together the flowers she had picked. "I haven't seen you smile for days, no laughing, you haven't even dueled with Gawain." It was known around the castle that Moira and Gawain were dueling partners now, merely because she liked to irritate him when she acted like a female to distract him from the fight. Moira shrugged. "A man maybe?" the blond ventured as she sniffed a bottle of scent on Moira's vanity. The silence affirmed her suspicion. "The question is what man of Camelot has caught your eye?" The Irishwoman ignored her, continuing her flowers. "Is it Kay?" Guinevere asked. "That's a possibility, but no, I don't believe it's him. Maybe Gawain—but then he's too much of a fighter…our king is out—so that leaves Merlin."

"Be careful else you'll tire yourself out naming all the men," replied Moira easily. Guinevere laughed and shook her head. "Who I have feelings for or eyes for are my business. You don't see me mentioning the king to ye, do ye?" The blonde paled immensely. "So I was right?" Moira mused, she set aside her project. "And here Igraine and I were just joking around."

"Please Moira, I beg of you, don't—"

"Your secret is safe with me." The brunette rose from her chair and walked to the window. Guinevere envied the woman's self awareness while Moira envied Guinevere's beauty and innocence. At one time in her life she had known innocence. She had understood and felt what it was to love someone and then never been with them again, to give yourself away, heart, body and soul and have it thrown back in your face. "Is it hard?" She asked softly.

Guinevere smiled ruefully. "Every single day is a battle…a war in itself." She joined Moira at the window and followed the woman's gaze. Their eyes stopped on Merlin and Arthur, she smiled to herself as she watched them celebrate about the final posts going up in the North. Her eyes landed on Leontes; she had married him, she had lain with him, she had said she loved him. Her life was a lie. She took a soft, steadying breath then turned to Moira—her mouth opened in shock. "You love Merlin."

"What?" Drawn out of her daydreams Moira stared wide-eyed at Guinevere. The blond wasn't falling for the act and grinned. "Guinevere I beg of ye," gray eyes wide with fear Moira gripped her friends arm. "Please don't say a word."

"I won't if you won't," she said civilly. Moira nodded and they shook on the deal. But even after Guinevere left Moira wondered if the woman would keep her word. She shouldn't have had any respect for her. After all the woman was living not only a life of pure sin, but a life of lies. What would one more be to her?

Authors Notes: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and favorited this story. The song used earlier on is The Voice by Celtic Woman, it's a very powerful song I suggest looking it up on youtube. In no way is Moira supposed to be a good singer, as most women of that time she was brought up learning to sing and play an instrument. Thanks again!