A/N Wicked short, sorry guys, but I'm back!
"You did what?" Malcolm McCreedy's shout could be heard all the way outside in the Court Yard, in front of him Merlin winced ever so slightly, knowing full well that the man in front of him could slice him and dice him in the blink of an eye. "Are ye mad?"
"Quite sane actually," retorted Merlin.
"Without even asking me or father for her hand?"
"You're father is at least three thousand miles away, I'm not waiting that long," retorted Merlin calmly.
Mal scowled at him. "You're supposed to be her guardian, not her husband."
"A husband can do both."
"Christ!" Malcolm stalked off to one side to pace.
"I'm glad," Balin offered with a smirk. "Finally get her outta my hair."
Calder snickered. "Good luck is the best I can give ya boy-o." Mal scowled at his brother. "What? Oh fine," He turned to face Merlin, arms folded. "Do ye love her?"
"Yes."
"Do you care fer her?"
"Very much so."
"Will you protect her?"
"No one can protect Moira if she doesn't want it," Merlin answered. "That being said if need be I will be right beside her, ready to cut down anyone who would try and touch her." The sorcerer looked from one McCreedy brother all the way down to the youngest. "So, with all of your permissions, can I see her through this?" He got nods from Balin and Calder. His eyes found Larkin and Mal, silently begging. "Mal? Larkin? Do you trust me?"
"Of course," Larkin answered for both of them. "The King trusts you."
"Aye," Mal nodded. "You can marry her." He extended his hand and clasped Merlin's tightly. "Take care of my baby cub."
"I will."
In all her years alive she never thought she would be planning a wedding without her mother. Moira watched as Guinevere stitched an embroidery of gold thread into the white dress. Instead she had Guinevere, Bridget, the other ladies of Camelot. "You should be smiling," Bridget teased gently. "In a week you'll be married." Moira smiled softly. "To Merlin no less."
"I was hoping you two would get married," Igraine commented as she looked over the embroidery. Moira drew in a slow, steadying breath. Did she want this, truly? Setting aside the book she had been reading, due to the fact that the ladies had deemed her embroidery skills non-existent. "I'll be back," Moira said, and departed before questions could arise.
She needed to get away, needed to run, to breathe for God's sake! She hadn't realized she had been running until she hit the warm sunshine. Moira sucked in a breath and held it, feeling her heart pound against her ribcage. It would be fine. She loved Merlin, really truly loved him. She ducked out of the gate of Camelot, avoiding any human contact and began her walk to the woods. She had no idea why she felt so trapped, so caged in. Her hand rested on the growing mound on her stomach. She hadn't been sick lately, which was good. She had even warmed to the idea of having a baby. She smiled slightly and shook her head at her own thoughts.
He watched her, silently, steadily from the trees. He had heard the rumors around Camelot that she had not only become betrothed to the sorcerer, but had become pregnant. Irate, and a little disappointed he attached a note to the falcon that he had in the tree. "To Pendragon," he commanded. The falcon took off, swift and deadly on silent wings. His gaze dropped to the woman. All would be well.