Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin.

A/N: This chapter is quite long, at least for me. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter Two: The Revelation

Mordred was woken by Anna the next morning.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked him. Mordred shrugged. Truthfully, he had had trouble falling asleep. Despite the fact that the bed was far more comfortable than anything else he'd ever slept on, he wasn't used to sleeping inside and it had made him feel trapped.

"I bought some fresh clothes for you," Anna said, holding the bundle in her arms out to him.

Mordred took the clothes from her with a quiet thank you. Like the covers on his bed, the clothes were made of fine, expensive material.

Anna left the room to give him some privacy while he dressed. He changed quickly into the clothes, then looked into the mirror. He looked strange, he decided as he examined his reflection, fingering the necklace he never took off, the last gift his father had ever given him. He picked up his blue cloak and fastened it around his shoulders. There, now he looked more like himself.

He turned away from the mirror and went out into the hall, where Anna waited.

She smiled, "You look very handsome. Lady Morgause is waiting for you to have breakfast with her."

Mordred followed Anna back to the dining hall he'd eaten in last night. When he entered the dining hall, a surprise was waiting for him. Morgause was again sitting at the head of the table, but she was not sitting alone, a dark-haired woman sat to her right. Both women turned toward the door when Mordred and Anna entered.

"Morgana!" Mordred practically ran down the length of the dining hall.

Morgana rose from the table and held out her arms to him, "Mordred!"

"Anna didn't tell me you were here," Mordred said, as Morgana hugged him.

Morgana smiled, releasing him and stepping back to look at him, "I just arrived. I doubt she knew."

She brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes, "How have you been, Mordred?"

He shrugged, "I've been okay."

"Morgause told me you were all alone when she found you," Morgana fretted, "Have you been alone all this time since I last saw you?"

Mordred nodded, "It's okay, though," he said, not wanting her to worry, "I can take care of myself."

Morgana hugged him again, "Well, now you don't have to anymore."

"Are you going to stay here?" Mordred asked hopefully.

Morgana shook her head, "I can't. No one even knows I come here."

Mordred nodded, remembering that Morgana was the king's ward.

Morgana ushered him over to the table, "Come and eat."

Mordred sat down, choosing the chair next to Morgana, rather than the one next to Morgause that he had sat in the previous night.

A plate of food was placed before him and he began to eat. Again, he was full long before it was finished.

When the plates had been cleared away, Morgause turned to Mordred, "Now, there are things we must discuss."

Mordred looked up at her, wondering if she was going to tell him why she had brought him here and what she had meant when she called him special.

"When you were a baby, you were left in the woods near a Druid camp," Morgause said.

Mordred stared at her, "How do you know that?" He knew he had never told Morgana that.

Morgause hesitated for an instant and then said, "Because I was the one who left you there."

For a moment Mordred just stared at her.

"You're- you're my mother?"

Morgause nodded, "Yes, I am."

Mordred didn't know what to say. For so long he had wondered about his birth parents, who they were, why they'd left him.

"Why did you leave me?" he asked.

"That doesn't matter now," Morgause said, "All that matters is that we're together now." She reached out as if to touch his hair, but he jerked away. At first he had been too shocked to feel anything else, but now a new emotion was rising, anger. And though Morgause had attempted a tone of motherly affection, it rang false to Mordred.

Morgause's expression flickered, but then she smiled, dropping her hand.

Morgana reached out and took Mordred's hand, smiling at him, "You know what this means? It means I'm your aunt."

Despite the anger he felt towards Morgause, Mordred had to return Morgana's smile at that.

He looked toward Morgause again, "What about my father?"

"What about him?" her tone was dismissive.

"Is he here too?" Mordred asked, "Who is he?"

"I only met him once," Morgause replied, "I don't remember his name."

Mordred frowned. He wondered if his birth father would have kept him if he'd known about him.

Morgause smiled again, "But there is more we must discuss."

There was a strange eagerness in her tone now.

"What do you know of prophecies, Mordred?" she asked.

Mordred blinked, surprised by the sudden question. He shrugged, "Just what my father and the other Druids told me."

Morgause nodded, "Well, a few days ago I learned of a prophecy, one that was of great interest to me. It was a prophecy about you."

"Me?" Mordred repeated, his eyes widening, sure she couldn't be serious.

"Yes," Morgause replied, "You."

"What does it say about me?" Mordred asked.

Morgause smiled, "It says that you will kill Arthur Pendragon."

Mordred's stomach lurched, "What?" Surely he couldn't have heard her right.

"Someday you will kill Arthur Pendragon," Morgause repeated, "It is your destiny. She was beaming at him like this was wonderful news, like a proud parent. She didn't seem to notice how Mordred's face had paled.

Mordred's stomach was churning. He felt scared and sick. He looked towards Morgana, hoping for a denial of Morgause's words, and saw the same eagerness in her eyes he had seen in his mother's.

"But," Mordred began, "I don't want-"

Morgause cut him off with a wave of his hand, "You'll be a hero. The Pendragons are a plague on this land. They wish to destroy everyone with magic."

Mordred shook his head. He knew that was true of Uther but…

"Prince Arthur saved my life," he looked from Morgause to Morgana.

"Arthur may not be as bad as his father yet," Morgana said, "But he is no friend to magic."

Mordred dropped his gaze, his insides still churning. So this is what Morgause had meant when she said he was special. Then he realized something else and his head snapped up again, "That's why you brought me here. Not because I'm your son, but because you want me to kill Prince Arthur."

Morgause opened her mouth to speak, but before she could Mordred leapt to his feet, his chair clattering to the ground, "No! Just leave me alone!"

He turned and raced from the room, ignoring Morgana's cry of "Mordred, wait!" behind him.

He ran down the hall and the great doors of the palace burst open before him. He ran out into the courtyard. For a moment he wanted to just keep running, straight through the gate, but Morgause would just find him again. And besides, he didn't want to make Morgana worry.

So instead he ran in a different direction, through a small gateway and into a garden. In the farthest corner of the garden he dropped to his knees, panting for breath.

He shifted into a sitting position and pulled his knees to his chest, then rested his forehead on his knees and closed his eyes.

"Mordred?" he jumped when he heard the voice and felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Anna.

Mordred looked up at her as she knelt next to him, "Did you know that she was my mother?"

Anna nodded, "Yes," she admitted quietly.

"And...the prophecy?" Mordred said, "Did you know about that?"

"No," Anna said quietly, "Not until I heard her tell you about it."

"I don't want to do it, Anna," Mordred said, "I don't want to kill Prince Arthur. I- I know Morgana says he's bad, but… he saved me. Even though it meant going against his own father. If he really wants to destroy everyone with magic like Morgause said why would he do that?"

Anna ran her fingers through Mordred's hair in a comforting gesture, "Why don't you tell me about it?"

So Mordred told her the whole story, how he had gone to Camelot with his father, how they had been betrayed and his father had been caught by the guards, about how he had called out in his mind for help and Emrys had answered. Here Anna's eyes widened, but she didn't interrupt Mordred. He was glad because speaking of Emrys brought to mind the last time he had seen him and what Emrys had done then.

He told her about how Emrys had taken him to Morgana, and how she and her maidservant had cared for him. When he got to the part about how his father had been executed his voice caught and he faltered. Anna silently slipped her arms around him and waited for him to be ready to continue.

He told her about how Morgana had tried to sneak him out and they'd been caught by Prince Arthur and some other men, and then about how Prince Arthur had broken him out of the dungeons and taken him back to the Druids.

When his story was finished Anna put her hand under her chin and lifted his head so his eyes met hers, "I don't know anything about Prince Arthur besides what you just told me, Mordred, but I do know this, you should always listen to your heart. What does your heart tell you?"

Mordred bit his lip, thinking, "That… Prince Arthur is different from his father. He saved my life. Killing him would be wrong. But… if the prophecy says I'm going to does it matter what I think?" He felt sick and ashamed.

"Of course it matters," Anna said, "No one can fully know the future, Mordred. Things may not be as they appear."

A moment of silence passed between them.

"So, what do I do now?" Mordred asked.

"Why don't you come inside?" Anna said.

Mordred followed her inside, but he didn't go back to the dining hall. Instead he went back to his room and lay on the big bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Every time he thought about the prophecy Morgause, his mother, had told him about it made his stomach twist.

He thought of the conversation he had had with Anna out in the garden. Some parts of his time in Camelot were blurry and hard to remember, just bit and pieces, voices speaking over him as he drifted in a fever.

Then other parts were crystal clear. The moment of his father's death would, he knew, remain forever ingrained in his memory. Though he hadn't seen it, he had felt it, felt the life leaving his father's body. Mordred squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the memory.

He cast around for something else to think about and his mind landed on Emrys. He frowned, feeling the mix of confusion and anger that he always felt when he thought of Emrys. All his life he had been told of the great warlock who would save his people. And Emrys had saved him, when they had first met.

At first he had seemed quite willing to help. But then… Mordred didn't know what had happened. Suddenly it had seemed that Emrys no longer wanted to help him. But he had come in the end.

But he didn't do anything to save my people when my camp was destroyed… Mordred thought bitterly, He led the knights right to us! Part of Mordred knew that he wasn't being fair. There wasn't anything Emrys could have done on that day. And he hadn't blamed Emrys for it then, though a part of him blamed himself. It was, he, after all, who had sensed that Morgana was in trouble and told Aglain where to find her. And the knights had come looking for her.

No, his anger at Emrys stemmed from what had happened the next time they had met. It had been at Alvarr's camp. Alvarr had taken Mordred in when he was all alone. At the time Mordred had thought it was out of kindness, but afterwards he had wondered if Alvarr had really just been using him all along.

Just like my mother… he thought, with a surge of bitterness.

After the destruction of his camp Mordred had been angry, and Alvarr had fed that anger and fanned its flames. Mordred had told him about Morgana and they had enlisted her help in stealing the Crystal of Nemeth. And then the knights had come. It had been like his Druid camp all over again.

Mordred had fled, pursued bytwo knights. And Emrys had tripped him.

Some savior, Mordred thought angrily, he tried to get me killed!

But for the first time, there was something beyond the anger. A glimmer of understanding.

Mordred again remembered the prophecy his mother had spoken of, and suddenly he was sure that Emrys knew. That was why he had been so reluctant to help Mordred in Camelot, why he had tripped him when he was running from the knights. Because he knew about the prophecy, he knew that it was Mordred's destiny to kill Prince Arthur.

Just like you killed those knights… the thought came unbidden.

They were going to kill me, he tried to tell himself, It never would have happened if Emrys hadn't tripped me. And it was true. But it was not the whole truth. Mordred hadn't been acting only in self-defense, he hadn't merely been scared, like when he had thrown the knights who pursued him back when his camp was attacked. No, he had been angry. He had wanted to make them pay. For his camp. For his father. At the time they had hardly seemed human, they had seemed like monsters.

He remembered the vicious surge of pleasure that had coursed through him as he had watched the men fall, pierced by spears flung with the force of his mind. Shame coursed through him, sudden and strong.

What would his father say if he knew what Mordred had done? His father, who had done his best to instill in Mordred the value of peace and compassion. Druids didn't kill. And they certainly didn't take pleasure in it.

He would be ashamed of you, the voice in his head taunted, He would be horrified. He would think you're a monster.

No! Mordred curled in on himself, as if that could shut out the voice of his own thoughts, I'm not a monster!

Aren't you? The voice whispered again, You've already killed two men. And you're going to kill Arthur too. What kind of a person would kill the man who saved his life?

I won't! I won't! I won't! The prophecy is wrong! I won't do it! I'm not a killer!

Yes you are. You can tell yourself that you aren't all you want but it won't change the truth. No wonder Emrys wants you dead.

The sound of a knock on his door made him jump. He sat up, only then realizing that there were tears on his face. He wiped them away hastily, "Who is it?" He hoped it wasn't his mother.

"It's me." It was Morgana's voice, "May I come in?"

"Yeah," Mordred tried to make his voice sound normal. The door opened and Morgana entered the room.

She looked towards Mordred with concern, "I have to go now. I wanted to come say goodbye. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Mordred said hastily. Morgana walked over and sat on the edge of his bed.

"You were very upset earlier," she said.

Mordred shrugged, not looking at her.

"Mordred…" she reached out and brushed her hand through his hair. Suddenly Mordred lurched forward and threw his arms around her, burying his face against her shoulder.

For several long moments, Morgana didn't say anything, she just held him tightly, stroking his hair.

At last she pulled back and looked at him. She reached out and cupped his face in her hand, "Everything's going to be okay, Mordred. I promise you, everything's going to be just fine."

Irrationally, Mordred found himself wishing that she was his mother, instead of Morgause. It was a silly thought. Morgana was probably no more than twelve years older than him. But it was she who had taken care of him, who had loved him. Though he had only seen her three times before today, she had been more of a mother to him than he could ever imagine Morgause being.

Yet, her comforting words fell short. Because Mordred knew that when she said everything would be okay, it didn't mean the same thing to her as it did to him. For Mordred, everything being okay would mean escaping the prophecy, the destiny that now weighed upon him. But Morgana desired that destiny, he had seen it in her eyes in the dining room earlier.

Mordred didn't voice any of these thoughts aloud. Instead, he just smiled, "Thank you, Morgana."

Morgana nodded, returning his smile.

"I have to go now," she ran her fingers through his hair again, "I wish I could stay. But I'll see you again soon, I promise."

She leaned forward to give him another hug, and then kissed the top of his head, "Goodbye, Mordred."

He hugged her back, "Goodbye, Morgana."

She rose from the bed and turned to leave.

"Morgana?" Mordred called as she reached the door and she turned back to look at him.

"Yes, Mordred."

"I'm glad," his smile was genuine this time, "That you're my aunt. That we're family."

Morgana smiled broadly, "So am I, Mordred, so am I."

He watched her leave the room, closing the door behind her. The smile faded from his face. He lay back in the bed again then turned over on his side. He pulled one of the pillows down from the top of his bed, and clasped it in his arms, clutching it as tightly as a lifeline.

Thoughts of destiny and prophecies whispered through his mind. He shut his eyes, wishing he could shut out the thoughts as well. Eventually he fell into a fitful doze.

His dreams were dark and confused.

He was in a cell in the dungeons of Camelot.

He was running through the forest, fleeing for his life.

He was standing in a crowd, watching as his father was led to a platform by two armored men, watching as a noose was placed around his neck.

He was in the forest again, watching spears fly away from him, towards two men, watching them fall as the spears pierced their bodies. And then he was standing over the bodies, and one of them was Prince Arthur. A voice from the dark whispered words that he couldn't quite make out.

And suddenly Emrys was there. He stared down at Mordred with cold eyes.

Mordred opened his mouth to speak, to plead, though he knew not for what, but no sound came out. He was struck mute and frozen with terror.

Then Emrys raised his hand, his eyes flaring suddenly gold. And from the cloaks of the dead men on the ground, two golden dragons rose, transforming from embroidered patterns into creatures of flesh and blood. Creatures with sharp claws, and sharper teeth. They hovered in the air as if waiting for orders. And all the while Emrys stared down at Mordred with the same cold, condemning look.

Mordred at last found his voice, "Emrys, please." The words came out desperate and afraid.

But Emrys' pitiless expression never wavered, "I never should have helped you. I should have let you die. It would have been better if you had died."

And with that he flung his hand forward and the dragons flew toward Mordred, golden scales flashing, mouths stretched wide and teeth glistening.

Mordred woke with a cry, lurching up into a sitting position in the bed.

Hope you enjoyed! Please leave a review and let me know what you thought!