...previously ...

Emrys

"You might as well let me go," Merlin continued. "I think Mordred knows, as I have started to suspect, that this is not the time for my downfall. If you let me go then I will help Arthur to bring back magic to this land. Whether or not that will satisfy you in the long run is not for me to say but, no doubt we will all continue this conversation at a later date. What do you say, Mordred?"

"Emrys is correct. Now is not the time for any of us to die." There was a long pause before Morgause muttered a few words, her eyes flashed gold and the chains started to fall away. At the same time, Merlin quietly chanted a spell of his own.

Working hard to show more confidence than he actually felt, the young sorcerer got up from the chair and started to walk out of the room.

"Merlin?" Morgana called out. "We still have no real proof that you have any magic at all." He sighed as he continued to walk away, not looking back at the beautiful woman that had once been his friend and occasionally, privately, had dreamt might even become something more.

"No? Look at your dagger, Morgana."

There in her hands was a single red rose.

8. The Red Rose

Morgana slowly sunk down on the nearest stone bench, her mind swirling with emotions that she couldn't begin to name. All she could do was stare down at her lap as she tried to make some sense of what she had learnt during those last few moments.

Highly distracted, she was only vaguely aware of the sounds around her; the singing of the birds outside of the large hall, the faint sound of the guards training outside, Morgause and Mordred talking enthusiastically next to her ... It was strange that she had noticed the conversation last - seeing they were the closest and loudest - but, somehow, everything seemed faint and foggy and all she was able to fully focus on at the moment was the annoying red rose resting on her lap.

"I wonder if we did the right thing?" she heard Morgause say thoughtfully. "Perhaps we should have kept him here, worked harder to persuade him to join us. Having Emrys on our side would be very useful."

"I don't think so," said Mordred quietly. "He really doesn't trust any of us at the moment."

Morgana turned the rose over in her hands, not even looking up during this conversation. A little while ago it had been her favourite dagger, and at that thought she pouted despite herself. She loved that dagger, even though it had been Arthur who had gifted it to her, but ... Merlin had turned it into a rose. How had he done that so easily? That sort of magic must be powerful.

More to the point. Why had he done it?

There was the sound of a couple of birds squabbling outside the window and Morgana frowned, annoyed, as one the final trills sounded very much like a laugh. She felt as if everyone would be laughing at her now. Laughing about how very stupid she'd been. She guessed he would be too. Surely he would think her an idiot for not working it out for herself. Morgana suddenly shuddered, but had no idea whether that was from the cold or the strange, foreign emotion that was welling up inside of her. It was a sunny day outside but, here in the stone castle, it was never truly hot. She rolled the flower around on her lap again, idly noticing how the red of the rose differed in tone from the red velvet of her dress.

"How long have you known Merlin as Emrys?" Morgause and Mordred had been continuing their conversation all this time but she had blocked it out, for the most part. However, this particular question was interesting enough to draw her attention away from the flower on her lap, and onto the young boy with his dark hair and wide, bright, blue eyes.

"I've always known him as Emrys," Mordred replied. "I recognised him for what he was from the first moment I saw him. No ..." He shook his head, remembering. "From before I saw him. I ... felt his presence."

"How, when I could not?" Morgause pushed and the boy shrugged.

"Don't know. Something to do with my powers or my druid heritage ... not sure."

"Why did you not say something?" Morgana managed at last. The boy just shrugged again. He was at that annoying age now - no longer a child, not quite an adult. An especially confusing time – she remembered. Not that things had got any easier for her once she had become a woman. From that point on she'd had magic to deal with instead. "Mordred?" she asked as gently as she could.

"I assumed you knew. It always seemed so obvious to me." Morgana glared at this. Yes, everyone would be laughing now but, was it really that obvious? Merlin? A sorcerer? If there was anyone that looked less like a magical being it was him. Except, that wasn't really true, was it? There was something about him - an ethereal quality - and she had been drawn to him instantly, despite her station - finding him fascinating when she shouldn't have even noticed him.

Fascinating? Merlin?

"I have heard stories, of course," Morgause continued. "What did your druid family tell you of Emrys? Did they ...?" Their voices continued and Morgana tuned them out again, her eyes somehow drawn back down to the flower. She picked it up carefully to avoid the thorns and then stopped, surprised.

It had no thorns.

How typically Merlin.

Who else would change a beautiful, deadly weapon into a beautiful, harmless flower. Arthur had it right when he called him a girl.

But he wasn't a girl. He wasn't even a boy - not any more. He was a man and a sorcerer and ... Emrys?

She shook her head at this last thought and glared at the thorn-less rose, suddenly deciding that it's specific form had been a conscious act on Merlin's part. He didn't trust any weapon to her now - not even a rose with thorns. That question came to the surface of her muddled mind again. Why a rose? Of all the dramatic acts – why choose that one?

"Why a rose?" She hadn't realised she said it out loud. She looked up to find the pair looking at her, confused. Morgause smiled slightly – Mordred simply glared.

"It's probably just an illusion, Sister," Morgause said casually. "Here, I can change it back easily enough." Her sister moved her hand forwards and Morgana found herself instinctively hugging the flower close to her chest before realising how silly she was being. It wasn't as if she had any attachment to it, after all, and she really did want her dagger back. She sighed and held it out towards Morgause who chanted, her eyes glowing, before the rose shimmered with a faint blue light. All three stared at it.

It was still a rose.

"Most interesting," said Morgause coming closer. "Did he actually change it? Change it's form and not just our perception of it?"

"Can I try?" asked Mordred and the two sisters exchanged a look before both nodded. Mordred's spell was slightly different but even then, nothing happened. The boy frowned and moved a little closer to it. "Why doesn't it have any thorns?"

"It doesn't?" asked Morgause and Morgana simply shook her head in reply.

"So, he hasn't simply swapped the dagger for a nearby flower. Even that would have been a feat when he did it so subtly but ... but that must mean that he somehow ..." She shook her head in disbelief.

"What?" asked Morgana.

"Literally changed the very essence of the dagger and reshaped it into a new form."

"It's powerful magic?" Morgana asked.

"Yes and, more than that. Elemental I would say but then, I suppose, we shouldn't really be surprised about that. Not if he truly is Emrys." Morgana shook her head again – still struggling to come to terms with that idea. She gently lowered the rose back into her lap and found her gaze drawn back towards it, unable to resist its gentle pull.

"Why?" she asked.

"Why what?"

"Nothing - it doesn't matter." As she looked back down at the flower, she felt an unusual warmth suddenly overcome her. A strange calmness that she hadn't felt for such a long time. It was very comforting but also ... slightly disturbing. Why would he go to all that trouble? What a strange way to show off his magic. Although, somehow the idea of 'Merlin' and 'bragging' together didn't quite seem right. How could someone so powerful pretend to be a servant all that time? She frowned – thinking back to his first years in Camelot. He hadn't been pretending then, had he? Emrys, the most powerful sorcerer of all time, in the stocks, in the dungeons, accepting Arthur's taunts, polishing his armour, cleaning his chambers, serving their food. It would have seemed quite comical if she hadn't felt so betrayed and confused.

"How can he believe that Arthur will be the one to return magic to the land?" Morgause had said exactly what she had been thinking. "The prince does not have magic and so cannot possible understand our plight." Morgana looked up sharply, both women turning to the boy for an answer.

"I think Arthur has some hold on him," Mordred replied and Morgana felt her stomach knot as he said it. "I do not believe that Emrys is seeing clearly at the moment but ..."

Their voices continued as she tried to examine the feeling that had briefly struck her but, as she again looked down at the rose, she felt another wave of unexpected warmth rush over her, dispelling the more uncomfortable emotion. She recalled the relationships that she had had when she was in Camelot; how she had cared for Arthur despite the bickering, how Gwen had always been there to comfort her. How Merlin had kept her secret and helped her to find the druids. She frowned. He had helped her but he hadn't told her about his magic. Had he told Arthur? They were friends, weren't they? Not that Arthur would ever admit it but ... her brother having a hold on the most powerful sorcerer of all time was just as worrying as the thought that Merlin might have some attachment to the prince. Either way, that relationship could easily put all of their lives in jeopardy. Her stomach knotted again as she tried to analyse the unfamiliar emotion that came with that thought.

Then she recalled his blue eyes smiling shyly at her as she had told him that she had forgiven him for the poisoning - as if she ever would. She looked back at the rose and swallowed hard suddenly, belatedly, seeing something in that look that she had not consciously noticed before. The jolt in her stomach was different this time as she also recalled the look on his face today when he had gazed at her with wide, sad eyes and said, 'I kept hoping I was wrong ...'

Maybe Arthur did have some unnatural hold over him, perhaps he was struggling to fight the destiny that he had been forced into but ... Merlin cared for her too and ... She lifted the rose to find her hands were shaking. Yes, she supposed she had known that he had feelings for her back then, and perhaps she had once felt the same? But, if he had really cared for her, why hadn't he told her about his magic. She would have understood then and, together, they could have ... found another way.

The three words slammed into her head and her hands shook even more. No, ridiculous. She shook her head and was surprised to notice a single drop of water glistening on one of the rose petals. No, not water – it was a tear – her tear. How silly.

"Oh, Merlin. Why didn't you tell me?"

A/N. This was such hard work. Usually I get the basic framework of a ficlet typed in one go but this took three days and I really had no idea where it was going to go and kept getting this little plot line confused with the Kiss and Tell one.

If you're wondering about her last question and what he didn't tell her – I suppose that could be a few things but I'm assuming she means the magic.

I'm going on a short holiday tomorrow and, as I type this have only roughly written up to chapter eleven, with very few ideas after that. I'm hoping that a little break will do me and my plotbunnies a world of good!