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Disclaimer: All rights to Merlin belong to the BBC.

Chapter Three: Eirlys

Days passed, and then weeks. Mordred grew used to life in Morgause's castle. He was happiest when Morgana was there, despite the fact that he knew that both she and his mother were eager to see the prophecy about him fulfilled.

Anna, too, was a great comfort to him. She was the only one he could really talk to about his feelings about the prophecy. If he brought it up to his mother or Morgana, they would just try to convince him that it was a good thing. Only Anna understood why he didn't want it and believed that he could change his fate.

Then one morning Mordred was woken by one of the other servants, instead of Anna.

"Where's Anna?" he asked, "Is she sick?"

The servant didn't answer, and he didn't meet Mordred's eyes.

Mordred's stomach tightened. He got dressed as quickly as he could and hurried down to the dining hall, hoping desperately that Anna would be there.

But she wasn't. And there was an unfamiliar woman standing where she usually stood.

Morgause looked up and smiled, "Good morning, Mordred. Did you sleep well?'

Mordred ignored the question.

"Where's Anna?" he demanded.

Morgause's gaze turned frosty, "I dismissed her from my service."

"What?" Mordred cried angrily, "You can't do that!"

"I can dismiss any servant that I like." Morgause said coldly.

"She was my friend," Mordred said.

"She was putting ideas in your head," his mother replied in the same cold tone.

Mordred glared at her.

"I'll leave," he threatened, "I'll run away."

"You will do no such thing," Morgause answered, "Now sit down and stop being so ridiculous."

But Mordred turned on his heel and strode away from the table. Morgause tried to call him back, but he ignored her.

He considered making good on his threat of running away, but instead he only returned to his room, slamming the door shut behind him.

He climbed up onto his bed and sat in the center of it, pulling his knees to his chest. What would he do without Anna?

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Mordred stayed in his room for two days. When his mother knocked on the door, he ignored it, and if she entered the room, he pretended to be asleep. When servants came in to bring him meals, he didn't speak a word to them.

On the third day, there came a knock on his door. Thinking it was his mother, Mordred rolled over so his back was to the door and pretended to be asleep. He heard the door open, but didn't move.

"Mordred?" The voice wasn't his mother's, it was Morgana's.

Mordred rolled over to look at her.

She smiled a little, "There. I didn't think you were really asleep."

She sat down on the edge of his bed, "Morgause told me you've been avoiding her."

Mordred sat up. "She sent Anna away!" he said angrily, "Just because Anna encouraged me when I said I didn't want my stupid destiny." He glared at the wall across from his bed.

Morgana reached out, covering his hand with hers, "I'm sorry about your friend," she said quietly, "But Morgause was only trying to do what's best for you."

Mordred shook her head, "No, she wasn't. She was trying to do what's best for her. She doesn't care about me at all. The only thing she cares about is the prophecy." I hate the prophecy, he thought, but didn't say it out loud.

Morgana sighed, "That isn't true, Mordred. Of course, she cares about you."

Mordred shook his head again. "No, she doesn't. Anna cared about me, but now she's gone. No one else here cares about me."

"I care about you," Morgana said, and Mordred thought he saw a hint of hurt in her expression.

"I know that," he reassured her, "But you aren't here most of the time."

Morgana sighed, "I'm sorry. I wish I could be here more."

"I know," Mordred said, and attempted to smile, "I'm glad you're here now. How long can you stay?"

"I can stay for a few hours," she replied, "Nobody will miss me before then."

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Without Anna, life became very lonely for Mordred. He spent almost all of his time alone. The servants were all polite but none of them spoke to Mordred any more than was absolutely necessary, perhaps afraid that if they did they would lose their jobs, like Anna had. He rarely saw his mother except at mealtimes, and even then, the two had little to say to each other.

When Anna had been there, Mordred had looked forward to Morgana's visits, but now he longed for them whenever she was absent. The only times he was really happy were when Morgana was there.

More than anything, he wanted a friend who he could confide in, someone like Anna, who would understand his fears and his desires. But of course, if he had found one, he had no doubt his mother would have quickly gotten rid of them too.

He spent most of his time outside in the garden. Here he would sit in the grass and practice magic, or sometimes read a book that he had taken from his mother's library.

Once he even slept out in the garden. However this caused such a panic and fuss when a servant was sent to his room the next morning to wake him and discovered that he wasn't there that he never did it again.

He was frequently plagued with nightmares, memories of the attack on his camp and Alvarr's camp were common, as were images of his father's death; sometimes he saw him hung, sometimes beheaded, and once or twice, burned at the stake. And then there were the ones brought on by his knowledge of the prophecy, these intermingled with the other nightmares, twisting and contorting them. Often, Emrys was there, standing in the background and staring at Mordred with a look of cold accusation.

Once, he dreamed he was on a battlefield, dressed in armor. He had a sword and was battling fiercely against an opponent. But his opponent's face kept changing, shifting, sometimes it was Prince Arthur, sometimes it was Emrys, sometimes it was Mordred's mother or Morgana, and sometimes it was Mordred himself.

Whenever Mordred woke from these dreams, it took him a long time to fall asleep again.

He knew that his mother had given Morgana a healing bracelet that prevented bad dreams, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her about his nightmares or to ask for her help. So he endured the nightmares.

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One night, after supper, Mordred was out in the garden reading a book by the light of a lamp he had brought out with him when he heard a soft whimpering sound coming from somewhere nearby. Marking his place in his book, he set it down and looked around the garden, wondering if he had imagined the sound.

Then he heard it again. It seemed to be coming from under a nearby hedge. Mordred walked over to the hedge and dropped to his knees beside it to peer underneath. Two black eyes peered back at him.

Carefully Mordred reached underneath the hedge. His hands touched something furry and warm. Gently, he drew it out.

It was a puppy. She had a long body and was all black except for a little tuft of fur on her chest that was pure white. She looked up at Mordred, tilting her head to the side curiously, and then let out a bark.

"Where did you come from?" Mordred asked, setting her down in his lap. His mother didn't own any dogs, and there was no one else living within miles of her castle.

As Mordred stroked the puppy's fur, he noticed how thin she was.

"You don't have anyone to take care of you, huh?" he asked her, "That's okay. I'm on my own, too, mostly. Maybe we can take care of each other."

The puppy barked again, as if in agreement and Mordred smiled for the first time in days.

Cradling the puppy in his arms, he stood. He picked up the book and tucked it under one arm, then blew out the lamp, but left it where it was. He walked back towards the castle, but rather than going to the main doors, he headed for the small door that led to the palace kitchens.

The cook looked over when he entered, her eyebrows arching up in surprise when she saw the puppy.

"I need some food for her," Mordred said, pretending not to notice her surprise.

The cook cast a doubtful look at the puppy, but made no comment. Instead she took two bowls, placed some scraps of meat in one and poured water into the other and set both on the floor.

Mordred took the puppy over to the bowls and set her down, sitting down cross-legged on the floor beside her. She instantly began wolfing down the food.

"Careful," he told her, "You don't want to make yourself sick."

When the puppy had eaten every last scrap of meat in the bowl, she began to lap the water. Then, when she had had her fill of that, she pattered back over to Mordred and scrambled into his lap.

He smiled, bending down and kissing the top of her head. Then he stood up carefully with her nestled in the crook of his arm. He picked up the bowls and handed them to the cook.

"Thank you," he said, then left the kitchen, carrying the puppy.

He carried her to his room and set her down gently on his bed. She instantly curled up and fell asleep. Mordred climbed up on the bed to sit next to her.

"You need a name," he told her. He thought for a moment then smiled, feeling he had the perfect name, "Eirlys. It means snowdrop. You know, for the little white patch on your chest."

Eirlys opened her eyes and gave a sleepy yap.

Mordred smiled, "You like it, then?" He changed into his nightclothes and snuffed out the torch, then crawled into the bed. Eirlys stood up and shook herself, then scampered across the bed, curled up at his side, and went back to sleep.

Mordred felt a sudden swell of happiness sweep through him.

"Goodnight, Eirlys," he murmured, kissing her head again, "We're going to be good friends, I know it." He fell asleep with one hand resting on her warm, furry back, and for once he had no nightmares.

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