I'm not even going to try and apologize because I'm unforgivable. I just kind of lost interest in the story. That's not quite true. I haven't really felt motivated to rewatch the season of Merlin I need to to begin the next arc. But I'm getting around that by writing different, more original conflicts for the next few chapters. I'll get back to some familiar enemies when I have time to kill for a rewatch, and I really am going to try and do better in the future about updating. It really has been way too long.
Arthur grumbled and rolled over to face his wife.
"We really need to find our own place. It's too crowded here." The alarm read 3:27, and this was the second time that Mordred's cries had awoken the sleeping couple. Gwen brushed it off with amusement; she'd done all the baby raising before, but Arthur was nearly murderous from exhaustion.
"While you're awake, you might as well go check on him. Merlin and Morgana are even more tired than you," Gwen said, a kind smile on her face.
"I don't see why my servant knocking up my sister means that I have to be waking up at all hours of the night," Arthur muttered to himself, already getting up. "If only we'd all just stayed dead."
Of course all negative thoughts vanished the moment he saw the now 6 month old baby. Mordred was so much more pleasant when he couldn't talk or argue or, y'know, wield deadly weapons. His tiny head was covered in a mess of black curls, and his pale eyes were filled with tears. Arthur was sure that one of his coworkers had said something about leaving babies to self soothe, but seeing the soft baby face, he couldn't do it.
"Hey Mordred," he said, lifting the small child from his crib. "What's wrong? Are you teething? I've been told that hurts." Mordred lifted his watery face to study the man who was speaking to him. "But you were a knight of Camelot once, and those are the best knights. So I think you're going to be just fine. Plus, your Mum and Dad are super powerful, which makes you pretty important too - "
"I certainly hope not," Morgana interrupted. "Can you imagine how difficult it would be to raise a magical child in this age?"
"How long have you been standing there?" Arthur turned, suddenly embarrassed.
"Relax," she chuckled. "I promise I won't reveal how soft the legendary King Arthur is when it comes to babies."
"Right, sorry. He was just….crying," Arthur replied awkwardly, "and Gwen and I thought….we were going to….you seemed tired."
"Merlin and I really do appreciate that. You'll make a great father someday."
"Thank you," he said, resting the now quiet baby back in his crib. "You're a surprisingly good mother."
"Surprisingly?" Morgana asked, feigning indigence.
"With all that insanity and murder in the beginning, I think you can understand my doubts."
Morgana's tone took on a serious note as she responded, "I can. And I'm sorry."
"You know I was kidding, Morgana. I fully believe in you." Arthur glanced at the ground. He wasn't a fan of serious conversations.
"I know you think you were. But there's often more truth in our jokes than we'd care to admit." She turned, and Arthur listened as her footsteps disappeared toward Merlin's room, wondering if there really was a part of him that hadn't forgiven her and if it ever would.
~oOo~
Merlin was starting to see even his students as desirable company. He loved Mordred more than he thought he was even capable of loving, but there was only so much time one could spend with an infant before literally going insane. At least high schoolers could talk. Sort of.
That day, they were studying the effects of the Holocaust on the international community's response to civil rights abuses. His students seemed barely capable of stringing a sentence together, let alone complexly analyzing the genocides in Armenia, Rwanda, Cambodia, and Darfur.
"What is wrong with you today?" He exclaimed as enthusiastically as possible. "My 6 month old son is more reactive than you!"
Senior Class President, Joe, raised his hand, beginning to speak before Merlin even called on him. "No offense, Mr. Emrys, but it's our last class on a Friday on a beautiful late Spring day. We don't care about history." The funny thing about Joe was that this sounded perfectly reasonable coming from him, where as it would get any other student detention.
"I suppose you're right," Merlin sighed. "My lesson can wait until Monday, and instead I'll use an analogy."
Like it has been said previously, Merlin really does enjoy telling stories.
"This story takes place in the far past in a land where the rights you receive today would seem ridiculous. It was ruled by a harsh king who was particularly against one thing: magic. This went beyond simple dislike. The king had everyone associated with magic killed without even a trial.
"Because of this hatred, when his daughter discovered that she, by no choice of her own, possessed magic, she was scared and angry. She ran away and began to plot against the father whom she believed hated her, willing to use any means to usurp the throne and return magic to the kingdom. After much struggle and death, she was defeated by her brother, who had learned to hate magic from his father's brutal teachings as well as his sister's deadly example.
"At the same time, the prince had a servant and friend who practiced magic in secret, using his powers only when necessary to save the kingdom or those he cared about. He attempted a more moderate path to acceptance, and ultimately undid the effects of the princess's reign of terror, until magic was allowed throughout the kingdom, and the people were happy.
"Now I know you're going to ask how this is relevant, but those of you who have had me before already know. This weekend, I'm going to have you write one paragraph comparing this to a modern day or historical issue that highlights why moderate reform is more effective than violence - "
The bell rang, cutting off his explanation. "Have a nice weekend, and come prepared to discuss history on Monday," he concluded as the students rushed out the door.
A small and unassuming girl, Grace, with big dark eyes and a sand colored braid remained behind. She'd been in his class last year, always with an abundance of questions, so he figured this was just another one.
She waited for the room to clear before speaking, her quiet voice ringing clearly through the classroom.
"I know your stories are true, Mr. Emrys," she said, sitting on her hands. "I know about magic."
He grinned widely, but his heartbeat sped up in fear as he considered getting caught and what that might mean. For himself and his family.
"That's ridiculous, Grace," he lied. "Magic isn't real. You should probably lay off of those fantasy novels."
Her eyes burned with a fierceness he never would have expected from her. "Don't talk down to me, Merlin. We have the same goals. I just haven't lost sight of mine along the way."
"I'm sorry but I really have no idea what you're talking about." Growing flustered, he began to gather his things to make a quick exit.
"Don't you? I know who your girlfriend is. I know who your son is. And I'm watching." She slid out of her desk and into the hallway with a grace that she never seemed to have before. Almost as an afterthought, she flipped a round object out of her hand and onto Merlin's desk.
When she was out of sight, he moved to see what it was. A coin: old looking, golden, and about the size of a quarter. On the side facing up was a face that looked shockingly like Arthur's with the words "The Prince." Flipping it, Merlin revealed another head, this time, his own. It read, "The Guardian."
"Well file that under interactions I never thought I'd have with a student," he muttered to himself as he made his way to his car, so distracted that he bumped into at least three other teachers, one student, and a pole. He needed to share this news with Morgana and Arthur and Gwen.
~oOo~
Morgana had the odd sensation that she was being followed. In fact, she'd had the feeling for months now, since before Mordred was born. At first she'd brushed it off as some weird manifestation of grief, but even now, with her life almost perfect, the lingering unease would not go away.
In the parking garage at her office, she kept glancing backwards, expecting to see something there. But she was alone.
It's just exhaustion, she reassured herself.
She hadn't had a proper night of sleep in almost 6 months, and now that Mordred was growing in teeth, it was even worse. She'd been planning on having dinner with a friend from work tonight, but she thought that maybe she should just cancel and go to bed early.
No, she thought. When she made a commitment, she followed through.
"On my way now," she texted before turning on the car. "I'll see you in a few."
The restaurant was nice. Soft, classical sounding music drifted from a live group in the back by the kitchen, and twinkling lights created a soft glow. She spotted her friend sitting by the band with another girl at her side.
"Morgan, you're here!" The older woman said as way of greeting. "I brought my daughter for you to meet." At this, the younger girl beside her stood.
"I'm Grace," she said with a sweet smile, reaching her hand out to shake.
I don't really know what any of that was, but it's making me happy, and it's making me want to write. If it makes you happy and makes you want to read, be sure to favorite, follow, and review.