The Exile, Part II, Chapter XV: The Aftermath
Chapter 15 of The Exile brings us back to Camelot.
Previously in The Exile:
Chapter 12, And the Truth Will Out, Arthur to Merlin:
He drew a breath and admitted one simple fact.
"What we saw that night in the council room was no more Lancelot than it was Guinevere. Morgana couldn't have raised him from the dead there was no body? Perhaps it was someone wearing Lancelot guise. I don't know how she might have done it but I no longer believe it. That was a show made for us to see." The anger swelled again. "That bitch when I see her again there will be no mercy; no tie of blood will protect her. Morgana's life forfeit. I swear it."
Chapter 14, Closer Synove to Guinevere:
"Ylsa works with Adras, Ms. Alfonsa and Father Flaejer. You have to get along with her if you're going to live here. Ms. Alfonsa has arranged for Ylsa to inherit this place when she dies," Synove finished with a sniff, got up and left.
Chapter 14, Closer, Ylsa to Guinevere:
"Know this- powerful forces have allied themselves against Camelot in the past, magic that could have destroyed it a thousand times over. Your kings may be clever and achieve much but somewhere in Camelot there is a powerful sorcerer, the most powerful sorcerer in the world and he is protecting Camelot saving lives time and again. Believe that if you don't believe anything else. There is good magic Jen." Ylsa gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "I swear it."
She gasped and fought for air. Something- there was a pressure like some weight on her lungs holding them, forcing them. She'd never in her twenty years of life been at all aware of her lungs until this moment when they were fighting the weight that had overcome her arms and legs to simply open and close. When they were fighting to be filled with precious air. The paralysis had come after the pain, a relief at first feeling nothing but now as she gasped again for breath there came the growing horror that numbness would mean death.
Merlin put his arms around her and she felt it in some distant way. She would have fought him if she could; he was the one that had poisoned her after all. She needed air-
-Morguase! Morguase would come but Morguase was dead. Morguase had given her life in a fruitless sacrifice to win their war. She gasped for air- The edges of her vision blurred, she was dying-
-No!
With a painful wrench Morgana tore herself from the dream and opened her eyes to near darkness. She peered into the dimness of her home and saw the few faint rays of sunlight that came through the tiny windows and cracks in the roof of her underground home. It was early but morning at least. She took a deep satisfying breath filling her lungs with that all important air. She stared up at the dark grey stone that made up the roof of cellar that she now lived in.
"I'm not in Camelot anymore and I am no longer helpless."
Even lying still in bed she felt a familiar tremor in her limbs the first symptom of Hemlock poisoning and one she still suffered from time-to-time.
"I am well," she said, clenching her hands into fist and willing the tremors away. "That was more than three years ago." And yet she had moments like this still when her limbs shook or were numb. Her stomach rumbled and she got out of bed. She hadn't been eating enough recently. With a thought the candles set in candelabra and placed here and there about the cellar flared to life casting a warm glow through the room.
Morgana went to the cabinet near her bed and pulled on her cape and sandals and headed outside. The cellar was all that remained of a long abandoned roman fort. She and Morguase had taken shelter there more than a year ago. Just outside the door there was a stone stairway to what had once led the first floor that now served as her roof. She stood a moment enjoying the fresh summer air before climbing the stone stairway to the roof of her home. She walked round a stand of young trees and shrubs to the chicken coop that they had built atop the cellar.
The hens clucked to one and other at her appearance but did not stop pecking at the earth in their search for insects and seeds. She'd had the hens for a while now and thankfully they no longer pecked at her when she gathered eggs. When she had three eggs for her breakfast Morgana stood a moment in the center of the little forest coop. She'd put a spell on the coop to protect it from predators such as foxes and wolves. She probed those protections now testing them. For the moment though they were still strong. Still she had to renew them more often than she liked. When Morguase had lived the other woman had only renewed it twice in a year. Morgana found herself renewing it nearly every other month.
She sighed, locked the gates of the coop and went to the rain barrel.
There was plenty of water in the barrel and she filled an earthen jug with water to poach the eggs and steam the vegetables on her simple stove. Once inside she didn't bother with a flint for the fire and just used her magic to get it going; sadly she could not conjure a breakfast the same way. She steamed the eggs and vegetables and had them along with some smoked deer left over from a doe that Agravaine had caught.
She smiled at the memory of Agravaine turning up covered in insect bites and sores complaining almost primly the entire time how undignified Arthur's the assigning him as ambassador to the picts was. Still she was reasonably pleased with him he had managed to secure the plans of Camelot's siege tunnels in spite of Arthur's early dismissal. She had let him remain a few days before sending him to make to make certain their allies were well prepared. She could not say she'd been sad to see him go. The man was well, aggravating something about his fawning nature, his twisty tongue they grated.
Morgana settled herself at the rough wooden table missing cushioned stools. She looked at Morguase's empty seat. It was a sad thing taking every meal alone, perhaps she had been hasty in sending Agravaine away. She ate a spoonful of bland eggs and told herself to ignore the taste of uneven cooking. She still wasn't good at this but it was wasteful to use her magic for such things. One day soon she would have a castle full of servants and her crown upon her head again.
With her breakfast consumed Morgana indulged in a bit of magic, flicking her wrist to clear up the mess before putting the dishes in the cabinet. There were herbs to gather, roots and flowers that she needed for her spells and potions. She got her herb basket out of the cabinet and prepared to go about the day's business but found herself sinking into one of her homes two chairs.
It was early and yet she felt strangely tired as she so often had since she'd helped Morguase commit suicide. Just that suddenly the tears were upon her. She should not have listened.
"I shall never recover. I no longer wish to live like this."
Morgana raised her head from where she had laid it at Morguase's bedside to stare at her sister even as the harsh fist of desperation closed round her cold and relentless.
"No!" She denied with hot anger. "I shall care for you forever if I must, just as you have cared for me."
Morguase smiled, her pale face a distorted and twisted ruin. The other had never been particularly beautiful but she had been pretty enough once.
"I know and I love you for it but this is no life for you." Morguase smoothed one trembling hand along her dark hair. "That is why you must help me."
"No!" Morgana shot to her feet. Morguase had listened to no such talk from her when she was ill. "I will hear no such thing." With that she'd stormed out of the hovel only to collapse a few feet away into the chill snow that blanketed the forest floor clutching herself as she wept. She'd never been able to refuse Morguase anything.
"Morguase," she whimpered her sister's name and then went to the cabinet. Glad, not for the first time, that she had not been able to trade away the healing bracelet. The bracelet was gleaming silver with leaves of gold inlay fanning out across the metal and always slightly warm to the touch. She pressed the cuff round wrist with a sigh of relief. Morgana took a long deep breath before heading outside. She had no time for tears; there was work to be done.
Three people were dead and sometimes he thought that number might be four. Six marriages had been wrecked, three engagements had been called off and a number of friendships had been destroyed. This of course was in addition to the destruction of Guinevere and Lancelot's reputations and the unseen emotional damage that was the result of this- he didn't even know what to call it. None of this considered the damage that she'd done when she'd held Camelot. She'd shot commoners in an effort to compel the loyalty of the knights. Arthur leaned against one of the stone columns for moment thinking about how he might repair the damage that had once again been inflicted on Camelot.
Public pardons would be issued for everyone involved in an attempt to restore their reputations and Guinevere's. Morgana needed to be found of course but they had had little success with that and Guinevere…
Arthur paced the length of the empty throne room stopping a moment in a pool of torchlight, the sun was not yet up. He let his eyes travel up along the length of the columns that spiraled high into the arched ceiling. A room designed to intimidate. She had been intimidated, humiliated and shamed. He had been the author of those hurts.
"Where shall I go? What shall I do?"*
"I really can't care."
He had said those words to her. Arthur winced away from the memory and let himself drop back into the throne. The truth of it was he had been a coward with her. Yes, treason was punishable by death. Yes, if they had been married her actions– if they had been her actions -would have warranted a strong response, but they had not been married. A betrothal was similar but it was not the same. It was on that grounds that he had banished her rather than do what he could never have done. Only- had he truly shown her mercy? Letting her remain in the city would have been an error but banishing her from all of Camelot, alone…He should have shown greater mercy, found a way to make it stick.
He found her ring where it lived now near his heart and pulled it forth. Was she perhaps dead? How could he have let himself deal her such a grievous wrong? He looked into the empty throne room; saw her small, weeping, crumpled to the floor...he dropped the ring back into its place and held out his hands, creating her width betwixt them.
Guinevere had always been in the background of his life trailing behind Morgana, a tiny sparrow that he'd noticed from time-to-time, some mischief flashing in her eyes or her smile occasionally lighting a room like sunshine. But he had never truly seen her until her courage, until her loyalty had thrust her into his life. He saw her then sunshine smile, regal profile, her curls scented with the combination of vanilla and lavender or vanilla and magnolia depending on the time of the year and all of it calling to him. The moment she'd helped him save Merlin's life was the moment she'd walked into his. Courage, wisdom and honesty all bound up in a tiny package of sweet, shapely, brown flesh with flashing dark eyes and a voice that could be sweet or strident, propelled by a heart beating for love of Merlin of all people and Merlin, the idiot, never noticing.
Arthur closed his eyes and imagined her head against his shoulder, her body soft in his arms. He need only tilt his head down just a bit to inhale the heady fragrance of her curls or give them little kisses. The pairing of her small stature and giant courage stirred his every protective instinct, every protective urge. Yet he had set all that aside in an instant, forgotten every kindness she'd ever shown him. Nursing his father, nursing him, loving him, continuing to love him after telling her he was inappropriate, waking him from his enchantment…an endless list. He could never put a tally on the things she'd done for him. His father had tried to kill her for goodness' sakes and had killed her father.
He closed his eyes on reality for just a moment and saw Sarah Goode's broken body only it was Guinevere's eyes that he shut, her dark curls the only thing undamaged by her fall.
He paced to the window and looked to the horizon. There the silvery light of false dawn was only just meeting the golden light of true dawn creating a gleaming band across the horizon. Yet he was already up and dressed. He had to right this wrong. Arthur told himself to shake off the paralysis of his grief and guilt; he was a king and he had work to do. The first thing was pardons for her and every other bracelet victim.
He thought of something else then, something his father had once told him.
When the people are scared they will turn to magic to protect them…Magic!*
Merlin stopped in a hall near Arthur's quarters. He was in one of the quieter, less used wings of the palace. The scent of magnolias wafted up through an open window and Merlin sighed. Arthur had been up; dressed and gone when he arrived at his usual time. The king had been sleeping poorly recently and now it seemed he wasn't sleeping at all.
He moved to the one of the open windows. Rather than looking out on the busy courtyard or the many walks that connected different areas of the palace this hall faced the shimmering green fields that rolled into the palace orchard. He studied the trees a moment, full and green at the height of summer and heavy with fruit that would be moist and sweet come fall. He and Gwen had often stood at these windows especially in those early days when he'd first come to Camelot. The warm, sweet fragrance of the Magnolia tree and its pink tinged white blossoms drew his attention. He saw Gwen in his mind's eye as he'd seen her in his last vision sleeping beside the stream. Merlin continued to stare at the tree its blossoms were wide as an open palm. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
"Gwen."- Now more than ever he needed to know what had become of her. The magnolia, the fields, the orchards they disappeared, the palace hall- all vanished.
Woods, unfamiliar, grew up around him. While he recognized many of the plants he was seeing Merlin knew he'd never seen an oak tree that grew thus or a water mint that tall. It seemed early in the day but cool amongst the growth on the forest floor. He spied the pink cloudy blossoms of the mountain laurel, a shrub that only bloomed during the spring.
He felt a sudden surge of happiness and forced himself to focus. Had he at last summoned a vision of Gwen? With the speed of a thought he was moving quietly and inexorably through the forest to come to a sudden standstill in a small clearing. It took him but a moment to spot Gwen lying asleep on the forest floor a few feet from a small stream. Had she camped here on purpose? This was a terrible site, the water would draw everything.
He saw her alone in the middle of nowhere, no supplies, no friends…he watched the bandit approach as she slept; saw him steal Arthur's ring from her breast, watched the bandit threaten her with her own knife. Felt sick as the bandit straddled her hips and then Gwen fought him. Hope soared for a moment. She fought him hard and ugly biting, raking her nails along his face. But the bandit was a bandit, a brigand he fought better than she and soon he had her down, had his hands around her throat, choking out her life-
-And a hand came down on his shoulder. Merlin opened his eyes to the real world and turned to face the king.
"Merlin, you idiot, what are you doing standing here in the hallway daydreaming?" Arthur demanded
He blinked and stared a moment at Arthur's perplexed face. Then everything that he had seen during the vision came down on him.
"Merlin?"
He did as he so often had, turned his agony away from the king.
"Excuse me sire." Merlin said it low and shot off like a rabbit scenting hounds.
Thankfully Gaius was not in their chambers when he reached them. Merlin stumbled into his room and pushed the door shut behind him before finally melting to his knees. Gwen was dead; he could no longer tell himself any other story. She was dead, he could have saved her and he hadn't. He could have told Arthur the truth about the Shade, he could have moved faster, should have been more suspicious…why had he assumed that she would betray Arthur with Lancelot? Why had he so easily accepted that deceit of that kind lay in her heart when he'd never seen any evidence of such a thing?
The answer came swift and unbidden because deceit of that kind lay in his heart. She had saved his life before, charged directly into danger with only courage and loyalty as her weapons no magic, no special skills. How had he repaid her? Merlin recalled that day he'd burst into the council room and declared himself a warlock because Gwen had been arrested on his behalf, for his actions.
"What has happened to me? How did I let this come to pass?"
She slipped into his thoughts then, sweet and innocent, a girl in a dull red tabard who was friendly and encouraging to him while he was in the stocks. A darling little thing with a cinnamon complexion that gave him flowers and sometimes bread, that helped Arthur save his life, the black smith's daughter with the sweetest, brightest eyes and the warmest smile.
"Gwen, Gwen,Gwen…" He said her name over and over again and as feelings of lightheadedness and dizziness washed over him the result of hours spent meditating and fasting and fighting himself to pull visions from the past. He didn't notice his aching knees, his cramped thighs, the creeping light of the summer sun that warmed his room to stifling hot. His mind slipped back, back, back…
"You are two sides of the same coin." "Together you and Arthur will unite the lands of Albion and bring an era of peace and a golden age of prosperity." The Dragon's words rang through his mind spoken with majesty and force but on what authority?
"What's that?" Merlin looked out at the surf that pounded the shore and when he looked back Arthur had drunk both shares of poison.
The jeering, cheer of the crowd came from all sides and the ropes that tied him to the stake were hard and they cut lashing blood from his wrist. The crowd had pelted them with food and offal and Gwen, braver then she should be, was yelling at Arthur. Merlin could not hear words over the crowds but he could see her face, see Arthur's. Prince Arthur stopped the execution.
His mind seemed intent on walking the paths of his past. Showing him the numbers of his kind on whom he had turned his back, the people whose fates he had pushed from his mind.
"Morgause is lying! She's an enchantress. She tricked you. That was not your mother you saw. That was an illusion. Everything...everything your mother said to you...those were Morgause's words."
"We'll never know. All I know for sure is that I've lost my father to magic. It is pure evil. I'll never lose sight of that again." Arthur had said those words after his father's death.
He watched Gwen tug her cart forward neither of them able to speak to the other, the last time he would see her alive. He saw Sarah Goode then first miserable, mentally and emotionally broken and then truly broken. And he, always making the same choice.
"Merlin?"
He surveyed his room, it seemed strange for a moment as if perhaps it was not his. The door pushed at him from behind.
"Merlin?" That was Gaius' voice. He tried to move and pins and needles stung through every inch of his legs. Somehow he propelled himself forward so that Gaius could open the door.
"Merlin, are you- has something happened?" The older man crouched at his side and helped him to his feet. With Gaius' help he forced his stinging legs to make the four steps from the door to the bed to collapse face first on his bed. He felt Gaius weight settle on the bed beside him.
"Tell me what has passed Merlin?"
"Gwen is dead!"
"You can't be certain."
Merlin flipped over to face the older man.
"But I am! I saw it myself Gaius."
Gaius' raised one eyebrow and looked about for one desperate moment as he patted the pocket of his robe almost absently.
"What do you mean? Tell me everything you saw Merlin."
Merlin drew his knees up to his chest.
"I finally summoned a vision."
"Summoned?"
"Yes." He told Gaius about how he'd slipped into trance without trying and found himself witnessing a spring morn where Gwen was beaten and strangled.
The older man tucked his hand into the pocket of his robe and sighed.
"But Merlin you said yourself Arthur interrupted, you can't be sure. Anything could have happened."
"No! Gaius no!" Merlin got to his feet shaking with frustration." Don't; don't try to make this all right. Gwen is dead! She's dead don't you understand and I could have saved her."
Gaius drew in a breath still much too calm for Merlin's liking.
"Anything could have happened. You do not know."
Merlin could only imagine one outcome.
"Gaius you didn't see her, she was alone in the woods, all her supplies lost. The bandit obviously got away. I saw him take the knife that Elyan gave her, I saw him take Arthur's ring. Gwen's the one we've heard no word from. She looked so pitiful." Merlin felt his throat grow tight and drew in a deep breath, trying to pull himself together.
"Listen to me Merlin." The older man got to his feet. "Gwen's smart and strong and-"
"-And what, she must bear the consequences?" Merlin felt his earlier anger spike. How could he try and justify this, make this into something else. "Why did I ever listen to you for anything? You're just a cowardly old man concerned with saving his own skin. You don't care about Gwen; you didn't care about Morgana-"
Gaius flinched backwards as if struck. Merlin felt a brief stirring of guilt.
"Merlin," a page's voice reached them from the outer room and they fell silent."His majesty requires your presence."
"Perhaps you should wait a bit." Gaius whispered.
"I'm done listening to you," Merlin hissed back with a glare. "Coming," he called to the page.
Merlin halted at Arthur's door. Little more than a month ago Elyan had reported Gwen's apparent death to Arthur. To Merlin he had seemed to derive some perverse satisfaction in seeing the king crumble at that news. Yet Elyan had also believed that Gwen might yet live.
How could he tell Arthur that Gwen was surely dead. How would he explain his knowledge? Merlin felt a dull familiar ache at the back of his head. The ache of too many things on his shoulders, the ache of too much depending upon him, too many decisions and burdens carried alone. He forced his shoulders down and wriggled his lower jaw trying to ease the strain. It didn't help but then maybe he deserved that.
"One thing at a time," Merlin whispered to himself. He had soldiered on after so many things and he would do so now, somehow. He took a deep breath and opened Arthur's door.
Arthur was sitting at his work table with Seneschal Harold.
Like Magistrate Grigor, the seneschal was a minor noble, a thin pale man with dark hair and pale grey eyes. There was an air of seriousness about the man and though Merlin found him perfectly tolerable he seemed at times to the warlock a little too keen to remind everyone his rank and its importance. Still he was extremely good at his job.
"Ahh Merlin just in time," Arthur said looking up from his work.
Merlin froze and that acid feeling of guilt burned in his stomach. When had Arthur's skin become so dull, his complexion tinged with an unhealthy yellow? His cheekbones always prominent were still more visible, dark circles rode heavy and black under his eyes and somehow he seemed even to have aged. Gwen had looked equally wretched in his vision.
"I need you to write up a list of instructions for the Magistrate. I'm issuing pardons for Guinevere and Tom as well as all the women that wore the bracelet."
"Sire," he acknowledged with a bow.
"Before we announce the pardons though I want the magistrate to sit with the women and their spouses individually and explain the situation. There is Sarah Goode's family." Arthur fell silent for a moment and his blue eyes seemed very far away for a moment. "I think perhaps I had better meet with them myself." The king's words were soft and Merlin saw his hand go to Gwen's ring.
"Of course" Merlin ignored the tight feeling in his throat and grabbed a quill and paper to get to work.
Arthur turned back to the seneschal. It didn't take Merlin long to draft the letter to the magistrate. When he'd finished Arthur and the seneschal were still discussing the plans for the announcement.
"We'll make it a holiday, any fines that were charged will be repaid and, 'mmm we'll open the palace cellar and serve mead to whomever wants it."
Seneschal Harold nodded. "What will you say about your sister? The people will not feel safe."
Arthur nodded. "I already know what to say about Morgana."
"Perhaps we should offer a reward for anyone providing information that leads to an arrest of someone practicing magic?"
Merlin froze and tried to pretend as if he were considering how he might word the next phrase.
He watched as Arthur nodded slowly.
"Yes." Arthur's hand strayed toward his chest where Merlin knew Gwen's ring lay but he did not quite touch it. "It is not something I ever thought I would find necessary but I think it must be so. We'll offer a reward of one gold piece to anyone with information that leads to an arrest of practitioners of magic."
The seneschal nodded. "I'll also order the preparation of necessary kindling."
Merlin felt his eyes go wide. The king had not yet lifted the ban on magic but he also hadn't actively persecuted magic thus far. The visions that had come to him as he'd knelt on the sun warmed stone of his room flooded his mind.
"Hmm yes," Arthur said absently.
Anger and guilt flushed through him making his skin hot and souring his stomach all at once. Arthur couldn't do this. If he began to actively persecuting magic-
"Water?" He said aloud as he closed his hands around the water pitcher. He needed the seneschal out of the room.
Before either man could reply Merlin went to fill the Seneschal's goblet and accidentally dumped the entire pitcher of water on the nobleman. He apologized profusely, Arthur glared and of course there was yelling but Seneschal Harold was excused. Merlin watched the nobleman stalk from the room before turning to find the king sitting with the smallest of smiles on his face.
"You clumsy, fool!" Arthur shouted in undignified rage, mimicking the seneschal perfectly before laughing. In spite of himself Merlin felt a sad little smile turn up the corners of his mouth. He had not seen Arthur smile or laugh since Elyan returned with Gwen's ring.
"That was funny Merlin." Arthur said still a little breathless from laughing
"It was an accident."
"I know. It was still funny." The smile faded from the king's face and that far away look that he wore so often returned. "Some of these will have to be rewritten."
"It won't work." Merlin said softly
"What?" Arthur looked.
"You won't make Camelot any safer by burning people at the stake. You'll just frighten them."
Arthur sat silent, lips twisting.
"I suppose so I shall." He seemed to consider that for a moment and returned to the sheaf of papers in front of him.
Merlin felt the reel of desperation. One thing he had always felt about Arthur was that he was fair. Blind, perhaps, to many things but he always tried to do what was right. It was for this Merlin served him in spite of everything. But with each day that passed since Elyan's return he'd felt that less and less. The memory of the bandit sitting on Gwen's chest choking the life out of her surged through his mind bringing with it the memory of every other person he'd hurt in his quest for this golden age.
"Arthur you can't do this."
"I can't?" The king didn't even bother looking up and Merlin felt an inner sinking
"No! I-I can't serve you while actively persecute magic users."
"What are you talking about Merlin magic users are criminals. Why should you care?"
"No Arthur magic users are people who hang charms above their door jambs to protect themselves from evil spirits. They are people like Alice* who've been forced to leave everyone they care about behind." He took a breath. "I care because it is wrong to burn them at the stake."
"Wrong?" Arthur looked at him askance. "So people like Morgana should just be free to do as they want?"
"Of course not, you know me better than that. But persecuting people like Alice because of Morgana's actions won't make Camelot any safer."
"Very well Master Mer-lin." Arthur looked back at his paperwork and Merlin felt his anger grow at the king's casual dismissal.
All these years he'd waited for that golden age, that age when Arthur would lift the ban on magic, unite Albion and yet here were his hopes sinking.
"Why, Arthur, why would you want to do this? Do you long for the smell of burnt flesh and terror in your streets? I thought you cared for the people of Camelot."
Arthur looked up at him clearly annoyed but after a moment he sighed.
"Of course I care for the people of Camelot and you know this to be true. Yes it is a cruel thing I know and expensive besides but I think it necessary. If we're shown to be soft on magic sorcerers will infiltrate our borders, prey on the people, prey on us- I can't-" Arthur paused and again his hand went to Gwen's ring. "I-I can't let Morgana do something like this again."He turned his attention to scroll on his desk signaling the subject closed.
Merlin tasted bile in the back of his throat and had to press a hand to his mouth. It was as if his life were some kind of sick joke. If not for the ban on magic that he would have told Arthur about the Shade and therefore Gwen most likely would not have been banished. He had chosen to protect Arthur rather than accompany Gwen who clearly had been in greater need. Now Gwen was dead, a victim of Morgana's sorcery and Arthur's response was to tighten the laws against the magic that might have saved her. Merlin felt tears well in his eyes.
"I'm a sorcerer Arthur I always have been." The words came out in a whisper
"What are you talking about Merlin?"
"I'm a sorcerer. I was born with magic." He said it more forcefully this time. "I can't go on like this helping you in secret, not anymore."
"Merlin are you ill?" Arthur looked at him with confusion. "Do you need a rest? Perhaps a visit to you mother?"
"I'm a sorcerer damn it!" And all of Arthur's paperwork, his quill, ink, paper weight lifted into the air and danced. Water shot out of the wet ones, the papers shuffled themselves into a neat stack and then settled back into place as if it had not happened.
"I'm a sorcerer Arthur. You'd be dead many times over if it weren't for me. I can't continue to help you or serve you if you restart the purge. I've looked the other way many times since I came to Camelot because I believed that you would be a king that would usher in Camelot's golden age and unite all the lands of Albion."
Arthur stared at him face twisted with disbelief.
Merlin groaned."Just think for a moment about it? Remember the griffin that couldn't be defeated without magic?"
Arthur nodded.
"I enchanted Lancelot's, spear made it a weapon that would slay the beast. Cornelius Sigan who would have brought all of Camelot to ruin, I was the one who stopped him. What do you think happened while you were unconscious? He just vanished."
"I-I…"
"Think about all those times when nearly everything fell apart and suddenly you woke and all was well just like magic." Merlin snapped his fingers and the chamber door opened and shut of its own accord.
Arthur did think and Merlin watched the slow realization steal over the king's face. For a moment regret stirred inside of him and Merlin pushed it aside.
"You're a sorcerer?"
"Yes."
"And you've been helping you say?"
"Yes. You should know. I knew Lancelot was a shade the morning after he arrived."
Arthur's face got that tight tense look of rage and Merlin ignored it pressing on, words coming out in a desperate rush.
"And I know where to find Morgana."
The king was completely still. His dark blue eyes staring at him, the index finger of one hand resting just above his lips. Merlin shivered and felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. There was a tenseness all about Arthur and Merlin thought of cats he'd seen stalking a mouse. He'd consider this moment over and over again and had never really determined what he should do if Arthur attempted to kill him.
The king blinked, blinked again. Merlin let out a breath.
"You know where Morgana can be found?" Arthur's words were low but Merlin heard them with perfect clarity.
"Yes."
"Then be ready to ride in two hours."
"Ride?"
"Yes. All of the secrets you've kept- you being a warlock is not resolved but you know where Morgana is and I've an oath to keep. We're going hunting."
"Two hours then." Merlin nodded slowly and strode out of the room that was when he began to shake.
Arthur sat unmoving at his desk. The sounds of the courtyard –people going about their business working or talking with one and other, telling each other jokes drifted up through his open window. He heard the bells as they tolled, quarter of an hour, half an hour, quarter before the hour. He saw shadow lengthen and stretch across the floor as the sun -unseen- moved overhead so that more and more light beamed through the window behind him. Every now and again he would let out a string of curses and then fall silent.
Merlin was a warlock. His mind reviewed the night Cornelius Sigan had woken to attack Camelot and bring it ruin. He could hear the terrified screams of his men around him as the gargoyles Sigan had brought to life tore them to pieces, that metallic tang of adrenaline in his mouth was a memory that surfaced far too readily, the fear- yes he had been afraid, it was a familiar companion all of these things rendered that moment crystal bright. Cornelius Sigan had been a powerful sorcerer; his magic might have been the end of Camelot in one short night. Merlin had defeated that man.
Unambitious, awkward, comical Merlin was -if he was telling the truth and Arthur had little reason to doubt him- was perhaps the most powerful man in all of Camelot.
The sun unconcerned with Arthur's woes continued its inevitable journey. He should be getting his gear together but that was Merlin's job and Merlin was a sorcerer. His father was dead, Guinevere unfairly banished and possibly dead and now Merlin was a sorcerer. The world he lived in it seemed was made sand.
Arthur got to his feet and called for his page.
"Summon the magistrate. Tell him the king requires his immediate presence."
"Yes sire." The boy bowed and headed off at a run.
He paced the length of the room. Merlin was a warlock, a warlock.
"Damn it!"
Merlin had been a warlock for five years and was in all likelihood too powerful a sorcerer for them to do anything about.
It would of course explain Merlin's inexplicable bravery. He kept pacing, glancing out of the window from time-to-time hoping to catch sight of Grigor striding across the courtyard. He'd started to summon Gaius but Gaius surely knew that Merlin was a warlock. That was in all probability what he had been lying about when Agravaine had questioned him. Arthur's pacing brought him back to the window and this time he did see Grigor striding across the courtyard with Efan's hand in his. A part of him wanted to run out and meet them but Arthur held himself in check. He needed to give some thought to what he would actually tell the couple. He was still weighing it when the page admitted them.
For a long moment he stood looking at them, the two of them radiating the happiness that they shared to the rest of the world. They studied him in turn. After a moment a worried frown creased Efan's brow and she let out a troubled little oh before coming to him an enveloping him. He'd never known his mother but surely Efan's embrace was everything that that should be; warm, soothing, a place of safety, protection from all the grief, from all the betrayal. He held her tight, desiring for just a moment to be a little boy whose greatest hurt was skinned knees that could be soothed with a cinnamon scented salve or a spinning top that could be mended with glue.
"Nu-nurse," it came out sort of choked and he wondered how it was that he had allowed his father to come between him and these two fine people.
"That's right I'm always your nurse."
He thought of the people he'd chosen to surround himself with. His treacherous uncle, Merlin now proven-
"I'm sorry I've been distant."
"Not your fault. And I know you got Enfys his knight's training and endorsed his marriage to Lady Amelia."
He sighed at her absolution and drew in a long deep breath.
"Thank you." After a moment he straightened and she took a step back.
"Grigor, please both of you have a seat." Arthur motioned for them to sit at the table where he sometimes received guest even as he did so himself.
"So what's happened now?" Efan's voice was warm and firm.
"Merlin, my servant, my friend, is a warlock."
Efan's blue eyes went wide and they flicked almost instantly to her husband. Grigor's only response however was to press a finger to his lips and lean back in his seat.
"You're certain?" Efan asked.
"He told me himself, gave me a demonstration with the door."
"It makes sense though," Grigor's tone was still very thoughtful.
"Pardon?"
"Too many unexplained things involving magic in recent years, too many attacks suddenly stopped and just you and Merlin on the scene. Didn't you ever wonder?" Grigor looked at him questioningly.
Arthur nodded slowly. He had in fact wanted to look into these things like the dragon or Cornelius Sagan but people were reluctant to look into victory. They'd won, they were safe. Arthur clasped his hands together and steepled his fingers. Was it possible that his father had somehow known or suspected?
"Have you arrested him?" Grigor asked.
"No. I'm not certain we can. I suspect he may be too powerful."
Grigor was a silent for a moment and then he grinned "There's always a way if you put your mind to it. Don't let yourself be defeated before you've begun. A little sleeping draught in his next meal and he wakes bound and gagged in a cell if that's what you want."
Arthur nodded. "You're right. He says he's been helping Camelot, helping me for years but he can no longer do so in secret. "
"Interesting."
"He's been a warlock all this time?" Efan questioned.
Arthur nodded.
"So why tell you now? What's changed?"
"Guinevere."
Grigor looked at him curiously.
"The first day Lancelot returned from the dead he did a test of some sort. Apparently the Lancelot we saw a shade, a thing made up by Morgana, tied to the real Lancelot somehow but not Lancelot." Arthur felt his hands clench into fist. Gwen and Lancelot both forced against him.
Grigor leaned forward now, eyes narrow.
"He knew magic was involved from the beginning?"
Arthur found himself nodding reluctantly.
"And he didn't tell you because of how he knew?"
"Yes."
"But I still don't understand, why come forward now. Both Gwen and Lancelot's reputation are restored. What's changed?" Efan asked that last question again.
Grigor got to his feet and started pacing.
"You've just called this man your friend but he kept something like this from you?"
Arthur felt himself start to relax a bit.
"Doesn't sound very friendly to me."
He was silent and not at all certain how he wanted to respond. Grigor paced to the window.
"So now you have a decision to make." Efan recalled his attention.
"Yes and he knows where Morgana is. I've ordered him to take me to her we're going to deal with Morgana once and for all."
Efan's eyebrow's jumped towards her hairline.
"Just the two of you?"
"I hadn't considered taking anyone else?"
Grigor paced back to the table and took his seat.
"Is that wise?"
"I don't know. We have to take the opportunity to deal with Morgana but I can't make a decision about magic in such a short span of time. So if I am going to do it now it has to be just he and I. But can I trust him?"
"You've already decided to go so you must trust him."
Arthur stared at the other man for a moment.
"Perhaps but should I?"
"Trust him you mean?" Grigor glanced from him to Efan and back."You don't want to trust him now because he doesn't make sense. People always make sense in their own minds. When they don't make sense it's because you don't have all the information. I think you can trust Merlin with your life. Even from the outside it's clear that he has been helping you."
"Oh. What about other things?"
"I think he's a piece of shit. Anyone who lets a young woman get sent out away from her home, her friends, her family and safety when they have evidence that contradicts her guilt is a piece of shit."
"It was a harsh punishment to begin with." Efan said and Arthur could hear the chastisement in her voice.
"What was I supposed to do? I'm king. I showed her the mercy that I could. It wasn't simply that she appeared to betray me it was the public manner, the night before we were to be married. I couldn't have married her and I couldn't have ignored it either."
"Of course not," Efan agreed and Arthur saw Grigor smirk just a bit as he watched the two of them.
"So what then?"
"Well what do you think?"
He hated it when she did that. He almost considered telling her so but felt still more childish.
"I'm king and only in my first year at that." He said levelly. "Other nations are watching me, looking for any sign of weakness, deciding if they will attack Camelot, encroach upon our borders, and enslave our people. If the leaders of any nations take it as weakness then it will not be only my life that is affected." He sighed. "If it were simply my life and reputation I might've- it's tens of thousands of lives. I could not let myself be perceived as weak."
"I don't deny any of this but what you hoped would not have happened seems to have happened anyway."
He sighed and she clasped his hand. He'd let his uncle goad him into acting before he was ready that had been the true error. He could have kept her confined for a while longer, sent her someplace rather than banishing her from her home as if he could banish her from his heart and her apparent treachery from his memory.
"You have given me much to think on nurse."
"Good."
Arthur's thoughts slipped back to Merlin.
"How do I know he's not in league with Morgana?"
Grigor actually laughed then.
"Because he would have killed you by now." The older man laughed again and Arthur and Efan watched him for a moment. Grigor had the habit of laughing at the most inappropriate things. "You need information," Grigor said when he finished. "You need someone that can tease the truth out of lies and make liars tell the truth. Send for him, let me interview him."
Arthur nodded slowly and rang for his page.
"Nurse," Arthur looked at her, "you're staying?"
"Absolutely."
Grigor studied Merlin a moment before speaking. He looked less a boy and more a man than when he'd first come to Camelot. That Merlin was loyal to Arthur Grigor believed wholeheartedly. Whether or not Merlin was loyal to Camelot or its people, what loyalty to Arthur meant were blanks that he wanted to fill in.
"Well come in, don't be shy." The young man looked askance and Grigor grinned his most fearsome smile. In spite of the weight of the situation he was going to enjoy this, he always did.
Merlin did not stride into the room but sidled past as if it were very important that he keep his eyes on him. Yes he was going to enjoy this. Grigor let the door shut with a loud thud and shared a wink with Efan as Merlin's shoulders rose. Not quite as strong a reaction as he had expected, perhaps there was something to his boast.
Grigor strode over to Merlin and put an arm round his shoulders.
"Have a seat."
Merlin did just that trying desperately to catch the king's eye. When he finally did Grigor saw him shrink from the cool glare that Arthur threw at him.
"So Merlin," Grigor clapped a hand down on his shoulder and applied just enough pressure to make the other man slightly uncomfortable before taking his seat. "I understand that you're a wizard." He leaned back comfortably in his chair. "In fact you've saved the king's life several times I understand. Now that interests me because magic is banned, magic users are persecuted here in Camelot. I don't understand why a warlock would want to help Camelot as you claim to have been doing for years." He paused "But I want to understand. So I'm going to ask you some questions, try to answer truthfully for once in your life."
Anger flared in the young wizard's eyes on the last.
"That make you angry Merlin?" Grigor leaned forward in his seat. "You know what makes me angry Merlin? When citizens of this kingdom are tried for crimes and people with evidence that might affect the outcome of those trials withhold it to protect their own skins, their own secrets. That makes me angry." He held Merlin's eyes until the younger man had the decency to look away. "Merlin you've got no reason to lie. The king thinks you're too powerful a sorcerer for us to arrest you and perhaps that's true. From what he has told me even if we were to arrest you could escape rather easily if you put your mind to it. So you've no real reason to lie to us. You wanna know how I see it?"
Merlin sighed. "How?"
"If you want to stay here in Camelot –and after six years I assume you do—then you need to tell the truth. Your answers are the ones that will help decide what happens next, decide if there's another purge."
He watched hope flicker very briefly in the other man's eyes.
"Either way you're not affected so for once in your life Merlin try to tell the truth."
"I shall." Merlin said resting his open hands palm down on the table.
Grigor weighed his first question still not altogether certain where to begin.
"How long have you known about Morgana?" Arthur asked and Grigor repressed a frown.
"You mean where she is?"
Arthur eyes widened and he got that tight, tense look on his face.
"Yes."
"Um, several months."
The king's lips tightened into a long thin line.
"And you didn't tell us. Why?" Grigor asked.
"Because my reason for knowing doesn't make any sense without you knowing I have magic."
"And what is that reason Merlin?" He was genuinely curious, a similar curiosity was reflected in the faces of both Arthur and Efan.
The sorcerer studied the table and his face grew pale.
"When we got separated a few months ago Morgana found me and she uh she t- she put a snake thing, a femorah it's called in the back of my neck to force me to kill Arthur."
The three of them stared at him silently and Grigor noticed that Merlin's long thin fingers were trembling just a bit.
"Is anyone else aware of this?" He asked softly.
"Just Gaius and Gwen. Gwen doesn't know about the magic but she is awfully fearsome with pot." Merlin rubbed the back of his neck. "She's really very clever Gwen is. She's the one that figured it all out." Merlin tried to muster a sad smile and fell silent as the king glared at him.
"So you were successful obviously but were unable to share this information?"
Merlin nodded.
Arthur didn't say anything but he looked perhaps less angry.
"So uh Merlin why did you come to Camelot? I mean you knew magic was illegal here didn't you? So why come?"
"My mother sent me."
Grigor stroked his chin for a moment.
"You said you've always had magic."
Merlin nodded.
"Was your magic a secret from your mother as well?"
"No."
"So you've always had magic and your mother sends you to a kingdom where magic users are killed on sight." Grigor drew out those last words weighing them as he said them knowing how they might provoke the younger man. "That doesn't make any sense Merlin."
The warlock's face flushed with anger and he ducked his head a moment. When he raised it Grigor saw gold flickering through Merlin's eyes. He drew in a breath leaning backwards, waiting. This was what he needed to know about Merlin. The sorcerer looked away for a breath and looked back, the flames died.
"I do a lot of good here." Merlin pointed at Arthur, "There wouldn't be a king here if my mother hadn't sent me to Camelot, and you should thank her you should all thank her."
The table went silent and even Grigor found himself not certain where he wanted to take the conversation next. The bells tolled the hour and still they were silent. Efan met his eyes and he gave her a small nod.
"Merlin why did you come forward now? Lancelot and Guinevere's reputations will be restored with full honors why bring this up?" Efan asked.
Merlin shot a glance at the king and pressed his lips together. Arthur who was looking thoughtfully at Efan didn't see it but Grigor saw it.
"It's really the mo-"
Grigor gave his wife's arm a gentle squeeze and she dropped it.
"Sire perhaps Merlin and I should go for a little walk. Sometimes when people are with their friends they don't share so easily." He stood as he said and looked patiently at the king.
Arthur seemed surprised by this statement but nodded his assent.
"Come on Merlin. Don't be shy," he grinned and winked at the other man "I don't bite."
"Go with him," Arthur said and Merlin got to his feet.
Grigor took a long look at Merlin before starting down the hall. They hadn't far to go just a short twenty paces to the royal nursery. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the younger man following behind, pale face grim and determined. He had of course a few thoughts about why the other man might have come forward and Merlin would not share that information in the king's presence. He stopped in front of the nursery door waiting for Merlin. When the younger man was standing beside him Grigor pushed the heavy door open.
A twilight gloom lit the room; in the dark its furnishings were just large lumpy shapes. Grigor went to the windows on the far wall and pulled open heavy blue velvet drapes. Sunlight flooded the room revealing furniture draped in linen and canvass and dust motes danced at their intrusion.
"Where are we?"
"Royal nursery."
"Oh."
"I figured it would give us a nice private a place to sit and talk. What is it that you don't want Arthur to know?" Grigor flipped up a corner of the dust cloth on a padded bench.
"Nothing."
"Come on Merlin," he smiled and sat down, "share. Surely this fiasco with Gwen, the bracelet and Shadalot should've taught you that you can't do it all alone, no matter how powerful you are."
Merlin frowned.
"That's right, magic can't fix everything. It's just one tool amongst many."
Still Merlin held his peace.
"The king spent his boyhood in these rooms." Grigor rose and paced to a cabinet built into the wal. "They've been empty for over a decade now." He pulled the cabinet open to reveal children's toys, a rocking horse, toy sword, spinning top, a stuffed bear. He picked up the top crouched and set it spinning.
"You'd think a sword would have been his favorite toy, but nope this." Grigor stopped the top spinning with his toe-tip, put the top back in the cabinet. He looked back at Merlin. "King Uther was a very jealous parent. I still remember the last time Arthur visited our home. He was fifteen. I reminded him of his duty, told him he'd be a better king than his father, that the people would need a king who might prefer the company of commoners to nobles and sent him back."
Merlin was watching him intently now.
"After six years why did you decide to tell him now? Why not sooner surely you had opportunities?"Grigor returned to his seat.
"Magic is illegal."
"Yes and here we are having this chat and that has yet to change."
"I did tell him once. I told everyone once, no one believed me."
"Truly, what happened?" Grigor crossed his arms and listened as Merlin told him about Gwen being accused of witchcraft, because of magic he had used. About how he'd interrupted a meeting with Uther and his council to a declare himself a sorcerer and prove Gwen's innocence.
"So there was a time when you were an honest man? When you cared about something other than your self-imposed duty?"
Merlin glared at him and Grigor chuckled.
"Don't be mad Merlin. We both want to protect Camelot and Arthur," Grigor said. "You do that with your magic, and I do it this way, by asking questions and trying to see into people's hearts. Learn what type of person they are."
Merlin sat down now and rested his hands on his knees.
"And what type of person, am I?" The wizard asked the question and shifted his glance away as if he feared the answer.
"A foolish, desperate young man that has put all of his eggs in one basket," Grigor said.
Merlin swallowed and looked back.
"Foolish and desperate?"
"Yeah you've lost yourself and you don't know what to do about it."
Merlin held his eyes briefly before looking away again.
Grigor studied the red and blue tile floor trying to make out the pattern under layers of dust. He'd made a handful visits to the royal nursery after the marriage between himself and Efan had been arranged. The nursery had two rooms, inner and outer. The first time he'd spoken with Efan here Prince Arthur had stood in the door way of the inner room watching the two of them talking expression silent and inscrutable as children could often be. Arthur had changed grown and yet he had changed so little. He looked at Merlin again frowning. Perhaps Merlin hadn't changed so very much either.
He got up again and went to the rocking chair still positioned to face the window, pulled the dust cloth so that it slid to the floor. He looked over his shoulder at Merlin and saw the other man was watching him intently.
"I had one carved like this for Efan. I saw them sitting here one afternoon," Grigor caressed the sun warmed wood, "she was telling him a story and it was such a perfect moment. I had to have one for her use in our nursery. I imagine Gwen would have enjoyed using this." He put the dust cloth back in place and faced the younger man.
There was a pained look in Merlin's eyes and Grigor felt some satisfaction at that. He was getting to him.
"It's Gwen isn't?"
"What?" Merlin looked at him eyes slightly wide.
"You've learnt something new about Gwen. Probably that she's dead."
"No."
"Yes, I think that must be it. Being banished might have been bad, unfortunate, but in and of itself not so urgent. You could always fix everything at your own convenience. If she's dead…she was your friend, you cared for her and now through some use of your magic, you've found out that your friend is dead."
"No! You're wrong." There was the vaguest hint of a quaver in Merlin's voice.
Grigor ignored him and kept talking.
"It's the guilt, right. All you had to do was say something, one word and she'd be here right now but you couldn't, or you felt that you couldn't because, magic is punishable by death. The Greeks call that irony Merlin." Grigor smiled a bit. "The unexpected outcome, the king's happiness could have been protected by the thing he's been taught to hate."
He moved to stand in front of Merlin.
"I'll wager that Arthur is thinking of restarting the purge? That's it, isn't? You're his personal servant, you would know before anyone else and you can't serve him if he is actively persecuting magic users, can you Merlin?"
Merlin didn't say anything but Grigor could see the tremor in every line of his posture the misery plain in his face.
"Tell me."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
He stared at Merlin, another theory about the other man's motivations slowly coming to him.
"Very well, I'll tell the king what I think."
"You wouldn't."
"I would, test me. I'm going right down the hall and tell him."
Grigor turned on his heel and walked to the nursery door opening it only to have it wrenched from his hand and slammed shut.
"Well." He said turning to face other man.
"I don't know for certain." Merlin had gotten to his feet, face ghostly pale now his words rushed and desperate. "I summoned a vision. I saw her being attacked but I didn't see to the end. I can't imagine that she could have survived but I don't know for certain. We can't tell him as long as we don't know." There was a pleading in Merlin's voice.
Grigor stroked his chin thinking. He wasn't going to lie to the king about this. No matter how it might hurt. People learned and grew from their suffering; it was protecting them that made them weak.
"This isn't the kind of thing he should be protected from Merlin."
"What?" The younger man's eyes went wide.
"This shouldn't be hidden."
"But," the younger man's voice was bewildered, "I don't know for certain."
"How did you get this information?"
"In a vision. I wanted to know what happened with Gwen and the bandit. It took me a few weeks, I finally called a vision and I got interrupted."
"So summon it again."
"I-I don't think I can. You can't be filled with guilt or grief. You're emotions have to be, calm."
"Ahh, well Merlin. I'm gonna help with guilt part of this. I think you and Arthur should go and deal with Morgana if you can. So you may as well finish packing and once you've dealt with Morgana, I want you to tell the king what you saw. If you come back and you haven't told him I will." Grigor settled his hands on his hips to make his point.
The two men stared at one and other for a moment and it occurred to Grigor that there might be some danger in staring down a sorcerer but he meant exactly what he'd said.
"I don't know how you've made the choices that you've made thus far, but I have a feeling that a lot of your choices didn't go to plan."
"You don't know that," Merlin denied.
"Did you plan for Gwen to be dead?"Grigor challenged.
Merlin ducked his head.
"It's time you start doing the right thing Merlin," he paused, "and this is the right thing to do, regardless of how difficult it might be tell him."
The wizard nodded at last.
"I will."
"Good."
"I miss her nurse, I miss her so much-" Arthur looked up as Grigor walked in. Efan gave him an encouraging smile and rubbed his arm gently.
"Sire," Grigor bowed and Arthur motioned for him to have a seat. The older man looked rather solemn, he studied them a moment before taking his seat.
"Where is Merlin?" Arthur asked.
"I took the liberty of sending him to finish his preparations for the trip."
"I see and you don't think I should take anyone else?"He was a bit surprised that Grigor wasn't urging him to take an entire cadre of knights.
"Well that's your choice. Frankly, I think perhaps you should wait a day or two, get some rest before you go."
"No," Arthur shook his head. "As long as Morgana is alive she's a threat to this kingdom, and all of its people. More than that though, I can't openly search for Guinevere without endangering her, not while Morgana lives. If Guinevere has found some safe place- or if her circumstances are not so safe I can't bring her anymore hardship; Gwen can't come home while Morgana is alive. The sooner she is dealt with the better. I swore that oath to myself and I mean to keep it."
He saw Grigor's nostrils flare but the older man nodded.
"Well at least take some of your knights with you," Efan suggested.
Arthur shook his head.
"No. I don't yet know what my next steps are. For the moment the fewer people that know about Merlin the better." Arthur shifted his attention back to the magistrate. "Grigor what is your recommendation, aside from the trip I mean?"
"For one reason or another he has taken on the roll of protecting you, it's his priority. Everything else is secondary. He's a bit like a guard dog that way."
Arthur saw Efan look at her husband in surprise.
"Grigor," there was a hint of chastisement in her tone.
"He is. Deny it. Consider everything you've seen and say he's not like a guard dog." Grigor challenged her.
"That's still a mean thing to say." Efan chided.
"He's moved up from piece of shit."
Efan rolled her eyes.
Arthur cleared his throat.
"Sorry. What I was getting at is that he is very loyal to you sire, but I doubt he can be relied upon in any other capacity. Some of it, I am sure is due to the necessity of him keeping his secrets, that may change with time."
Arthur considered the knights and how they worked together guarding one and other's backs. Gwen understood that.
"Thank you Grigor, thank you both," Arthur said.
"It was my pleasure," the Magistrate said with a grin.
"I'm sure," he said drily.
Grigor rose and Arthur did the same.
"Grigor, there is one more thing I have to ask of you. Morgana is a dangerous foe. Please make the truth known." He thought briefly of Sarah Goode's confusion before she knew the truth behind her affair. "And please make certain Guinevere knows it."
"I will," Grigor bowed and gave his wife a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving.
"Nurse?" Arthur looked at her questioningly.
"I can stay and help you get packed," she smiled at him. "I don't have any little babies anymore."
"Thank you." He felt himself smiling. "You can tell me how Enfys and Amelia are."
Arthur looked up at the sun. Only an hour past noon and yet the weight of a full day already bowed his shoulders. As a child the time between birthdays, holidays, tournaments and feasts had moved far too slowly. Hours crawled by as his active childish mind sought the means to fill them while anticipated days passed with lightning speed. He understood all too well now the adults that had told him not be in a hurry to grow-up. Not to be in a hurry to enter a world where hours fled with the rapidity of minutes, draining him and exhausting him as if in one morning he'd lived a week.
He surveyed the palace courtyard. Sunlight bounced with near blinding brightness off the white stones of the palace, while the residents and servants of the court waited patiently for the king's departure to return to their business. Gwaine and Merlin were having some whispered conversation. Gwaine came from it looking frustrated and Merlin looking grimmer than ever.
Arthur looked to the grand staircase and the great wooden doors through which he had just come.
How many times had Gwen stood at the palace entrance to wish him farewell or welcome him home? When he and Merlin had ridden to slay the dragon uncertain of whether or not they would return he had not thought much of what a welcome home might mean. Gwen had come shooting out of the palace from nowhere it had seemed. Her relief at his return palpable. She'd thrown herself into his arms and he'd caught her without thinking, welcoming her weight and softness and the sweet, floral fragrances that oft clung to her.
The memory of the scent stayed with him along with the stories she'd told him about her mother gathering the magnolia petals from the palace gardens when Uther permitted. They'd used the petals to fragrance water, make perfumes, and decorate their homes. As an adult Gwen did the same except Arthur had told her to take the full blossoms from the trees and as much and as often as she liked.
He'd never given much thought to what a welcome home like that might mean until he had one. That reassurance of her love for him, the idea that she had been waiting for him, worrying during his entire absence. He would miss it now.
"Sire?" Leon recalled his attention to the present.
"Sorry Leon." Arthur finished giving Leon the last of his instructions. If all went well he expected to be gone for no more than a week. When he'd finished the senior knight took as step back and Arthur mounted his horse. He looked over his shoulder and saw Guinevere standing in the shadows of the door way wearing not her purple linen dress but her simple servant dress with that bodice that she had embroidered with her own hands, her favorite dress, the dress she'd been wearing the first time he'd kissed her. She lifted her hand and waved at him.
Arthur felt a smile bloom across his face. He knew Guinevere could not be there smiling, waving, seeing him off. She was out, somewhere in the world and he hoped and prayed with every fiber of his being that she was well and safe. Yet he had not seen her face in his mind since Elyan had brought back her ring. She had not appeared in his dream of his beloved dead and even in his dreams where he longed to see her, hold her, her face, her image was denied to him. Yet here, now she was, as if blessing his mission.
"Sire?"
Arthur turned at Merlin's query. The other man sat tense and pale on his horse, his brows knitted together in concern.
"What?"
"Nothing you, just looked very happy all of a sudden?"
He shook his head and looked back but she was gone, a shadow lost in shadows. Arthur took a deep breath.
"Let's go."
So this chapter was really long, sorry I know reading at the computer can be tiresome but I could not think of any place to split it without weakening either part. Some of these events might seem ironic in light of the last few episodes but I'd been planning some Morgana POV and Merlin's magic reveal for some time now. As always I hope you all enjoyed reading and I hope you will leave some feed back in your comments and reviews. Next chapter we are back in Wyeledon for Gwen and friends and as always I have a few notes for you.
episodes cited in order are: 4x9,1x1,1x11,2x7,2x8,4x3, and 4x9 again.
I only mentioned Arthur's father being killed by magic because he was told everything he learned about his mother's death in 2x8x was not true. So that is how I am handling this. I know that Arthur's lines with Merlin in 4x3 implies otherwise but that is altered to make more sense to me in this AU. Of course everyone outside of Camelot knows that's not the case.