This is my submission for Merlin Tarot Fest and my first "proper" fest submission. I got the cards drawn for me and *snap* had an idea. I hope you enjoy! My cards were: Seven of Cups, Four of Cups, Knight of Pentacles, The Fool, Five of Wands.

It was a wonderful day in Camelot. It was early spring, the time when the sun is still chasing away the cold of winter, yet one of those days when the sun seems to have won the war. The flowers were starting to bloom, filling the air with their sweet scent, and the market was teeming with children playing games again. And this infectious energy seemed to have spread to the Queen of Camelot.

Queen Guinevere was lighter than she'd ever been on her way through the castle. Everyone who passed her received either a compliment or polite comment, regardless of status. Her smile was infectious, spreading from person to person during her search for her husband.

"Begging your pardon, your majesty," one of the maids said after the queen complimented her dress, "but what's got you so happy today?"

Gwen leaned forward and whispered the reason into the maid's ear.

A wide smile painted itself across the maid's face. "Congratulations, my lady." She bobbed into a curtsy and went back about her business as Gwen continued her walk through the castle, quietly humming to herself.

The king, meanwhile, was on a search to find his wife after training had ended. Arthur pushed his hair, still soaked with sweat, out of his face. Both quests came to an abrupt end when Arthur walked straight into his wife. She yelped as she started to fall towards the ground. Arthur snatched her hand before she could fall and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of it.

"Oh, Guinevere, I'm sorry," he said, entirely apologetic. He met her gaze again. "I didn't see you."

Gwen's happiness hadn't been dampened in the slightest, a bright grin still on her face. "It's fine, Arthur."

"You're very happy today."

"I am."

"Shall we go to the gardens and you can tell me why?"

It was warm enough to be worth walking through the gardens to enjoy what flowers were fighting their way to the light. Gwen knew that Arthur wasn't the biggest fan of walking through the gardens and, at that moment, being outside. It was the thought that counted: Gwen liked being outside, so Arthur would do anything if it made her happy.

"Please," was Gwen's only reply.

Arthur promptly gave his arm as an escort, which Gwen took with a laugh. The two walked into the Queen's private gardens arm-in-arm. On the walk, Arthur regaled his wife with the stories of what happened at training. Elyan had overestimated his ability with a quarterstaff and promptly hit himself between his legs, nearly gave Leon a concussion, and had given Gwaine a black eye. Guinevere should have been politely giggling, her mouth hidden behind a hand, or ask about her brother's well-being. What she was doing instead was loudly laughing at her brother's misfortune and pointedly not asking if Elyan was okay.

Arthur's story ended and a comfortable silence fell over the pair. The sparse flowers and leafless trees made surprisingly good company for a peaceful walk. Guinevere broke the comfortable silence.

"I have something wonderful to tell you!" Gwen exclaimed, nearly squealing with excitement.

"By all means, go on," Arthur replied with a magnanimous wave of his hand.

Gwen slipped out of Arthur's arm and took both of his hands with hers. "We," she started, somehow both serious and excited, "are going to be blessed with a lovely daughter."

Arthur froze. A daughter? They were going to have a daughter? Arthur had been taught well; he knew what it meant to consummate a marriage as well as anyone. He knew that he was supposed to get Guinevere pregnant and raise the heir to the throne. But…a daughter? His very own little girl? To raise and teach and see grow up? His own little princess?

Guinevere clung to her husband's hands before the shock of it all could cause Arthur to faint.

"H-how do you know?" Arthur managed to gasp out. How much of my child's life have I missed? "Have you quickened? Been to see Gaius?"

Guinevere only shook her head. "Arthur…" She gave her husband a proper look. He was pale and seemed a little out of it. "Let's sit down first, then I can explain."

"That sounds like a good idea."

Guinevere took over escorting Arthur until they happened upon a conveniently wooded alcove with a bench set in between two soon-to-be apple trees. Arthur slumped into something resembling a seated position, while Guinevere settled herself quite primly next to Arthur, keeping one of his hands in hers.

"So," she began, "there's a fortune teller in town." Arthur only blinked. How are these two thoughts connected? "I don't know where she's from," Guinevere continued, "but she's always right. I've never seen her predictions fail, from everyone who's ever asked her about the future."

Ah. I see now. "And?"

"Well, I was feeling ill, so I went to see her—"

Arthur cut Guinevere off right there. If Guinevere, his wife, the mother of his child, was ill, he should have known about it. He should have been able to do something. Was it serious? Was it not serious? Could he have helped her in any way? The words he managed to form into a coherent sentence were the question: "And not Gaius?"

Guinevere sighed. "If it was nothing, I wasn't going to bother Gaius for it. He has more important things to be doing than attending to a lady with a fainting spell."

"You fainted?" That was definitely a Gaius issue.

Guinevere shook her head. "No, I just felt faint." Arthur let out a sigh of relief. "I knew something was changing, but not what. So, I went to see Maralina—that's the fortune teller—and we had tea. When I had finished my cup, she read the dregs left behind and told me that we're having a daughter!"

"How does she do that?" Arthur asked, mystified.

"I don't know and I really don't care." Guinevere's voice was breathless with relief. She pulled her husband's hand to her chest. "Just think of it, Arthur. Our own little princess."

"Our own little princess. I can hardly believe it! Has—"

"I went to Gaius this morning and…" She gave an almost wishful sigh. "It's true." She laid her free hand on her belly. The life growing inside her wasn't visible in the slightest, but it was enough to have the touch and know she was there. "Rhian should be joining us in three seasons." Guinevere smiled down at her soon-to-be daughter.

"Rhian," Arthur echoed, laying his hand over hers.

A few weeks had passed since Guinevere's revelation and Arthur's world was changing. There were preparations to be made for the princess's birth (still many months away), an ailing wife to take care of (especially since her body had started rejecting anything vaguely normal to eat), and considerations to be made. Arthur had been reading old texts, those from before the Purge. Apparently, there was a Druidic ritual performed for all new heirs to Camelot's throne. It had been performed on him when he was young, before his father had gone mad with grief. It was meant to bring luck and good health to the child. There was nothing Arthur wasn't willing to sacrifice for Rhian. And that meant repealing the magic ban.

Arthur had lost sleep many nights debating the repeal. There would be riots in the street if it was too sudden, but more needless deaths if it was too slow. He'd only ever seen magic do harm, but he reasoned there were too many close calls for magic to be entirely evil. People would be in danger, but people would be free. After tossing and turning and spinning the plan every which way in his head, he surrendered to what he knew he was going to do: speak to Maralina.

He wove his way through the Lower Town, politely accepting and acknowledging those who recognized him and bowed. Guinevere had given him vague directions: 'the house with the beads, there should be a fire, two women live there' and Arthur was a satisfactory tracker. He looked up at the building he'd ended up in front of. A well-built shanty that was also a bit run-down, as if whoever lived here didn't have the money to fix it up. They probably didn't have the money, Arthur realized. A beaded curtain took the place of a door, proving it open for some esoteric business. Arthur took a deep breath and plunged through the beads.

The beads rattled as he pushed through. The home was quaint and small, but well-maintained on the inside. The lighting was dim, primarily provided (as far as he could tell) from a few lanterns and a fire burning in what was meant to be a kitchen. The windows were covered with plants and lace curtains and the floor was filled with well-built furniture, if a little rough-hewn. The ceiling was coated with hanging crystals, herbs, and plants and the entire building smelled like the herbs of Gaius's workshop mixed with wood smoke and cooking meat. The only thing Arthur didn't notice was any people.

"Hello?" he called into the seemingly empty house. "Is anybody here?"

A woman appeared out of nowhere, right in front of him. Arthur nearly jumped out of his skin. The woman was tall, nearly Arthur's height, maybe a little over, and had long, black hair falling down to her waist. Chains, jewels, and coins glittered at her waist, making each move sound like music. A thin blue veil covered her hair, also dripping with jewels at the hem. She didn't seem to have shoes on, but this was probably her home, as well as her business. Her midriff was exposed, a shirt covering her chest, and layer upon layer of skirts from her waist nearly to the floor. Arthur gave the woman a second glance. Those eyes. I know those eyes. Arthur shook his head. That's ridiculous. I'd remember seeing this woman around.

"Ah, young king," the woman—Maralina—said. Her voice had a heavy accent, but Arthur couldn't exactly place where it was from. It sounded Arabian, Indian, and Andalusian all at the same time. She continued. "I've been expecting you."

Arthur recoiled. This strange woman was expecting me to show up? He blinked a few times before finding his tongue. "I…" He cleared his throat. "How did you know I was coming?" he demanded.

Maralina only smiled mysteriously. "I know all, young king." Arthur did not swallow a lump in his throat. "Come in, come in."

She stepped out of the doorway, going over to whatever was cooking on the stove. Arthur soon lost sight of her among the various things littering the home. He took a few timid steps in. If there was magic here, he wanted to be aware of it. If there wasn't…it wouldn't be a bad idea to be on guard in a strange place. Maralina reappeared in front of him, and he managed not to jump.

"Sit down, sit down," she insisted, waving vaguely in the direction of a round table with a velvet tablecloth. Arthur took an awkward seat and Maralina took the one across from him. She brushed a strand of hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear and under her veil. "What do you want to know?"

Arthur swallowed thickly. "I…" He took a deep breath. "I want to know my future."

Maralina snorted. "Future, mah!" She gestured widely. "Everybody wants to know their future!" She started to mock the tone of her petitioners. "Will I win the battle? Does the girl love me? What does my father say when I cannot hear?" She went back to her normal tone. "No. You tell me what you really want to know."

Arthur swallowed before deciding, against all intelligent thought and instincts his father ever bred into him, to tell her the truth. "I want to know about myself."

Maralina raised an eyebrow. "You want to know about yourself?" She crossed her legs, skirts rustling and decorations jingling. She put her elbows on the table, folding her hands over each other and leaned forward, chin on her hand. She leaned forward. "How like you, king." A sardonic smile accompanied her words.

"Please."

"What do you want to know?"

"I…I would like to know who I am."

"Ah!" Maralina cackled. "There we are! Your true answer." Maralina turned herself towards the kitchen area. "Freya, my love."

A second woman appeared out of the curtain of herbs that blocked the view of whatever was cooking. She was dressed much more like the typical Camelotian, a well-loved yet perfectly intact red dress wrapped around her body, slipping off one shoulder. She pushed the strap up and brushed her unruly brown hair over her shoulder. Her eyes looked like they were filled with unimaginable sadness, even as she smiled down at Maralina. I know her too. But I can't say from where.

"The cards, if you don't mind, dear." It seemed to Arthur that Maralina had less of an accent when talking to Freya.

Freya gave a knowing glance at Maralina. "Of course not, love." She gave Maralina a soft kiss before going to get the cards she was asked for.

Arthur turned around to watch her, until she disappeared behind another beaded curtain. He turned back to Maralina. "Who is that?" he demanded.

"My love," Maralina answered, dreamily, with her accent back in full force. "I love my love, and well she knows."

Arthur took a deep breath and released it. Getting angry at the probably-a-sorceress reading his future was unlikely to end well. "If you would stop singing folk songs and do what you are paid to do, that would be quite nice," he forced out through gritted teeth.

Maralina snapped her fingers in his face. "Quiet!" she snapped. "Respect the one who holds your future in her hands!"

Arthur shut up within an instant. Even if she didn't really hold his future in her hands, irritating a woman who may or may not be magical sounded like a bad idea. Maralina smiled as Freya reentered the room, now bearing a large deck of cards.

"Here you are, love," Freya said, with another kiss to Maralina's cheek. "You owe me strawberries for this."

"And you will get them, love," Maralina said with a smile, "in the spring."

"Promise they'll be strawberries this time?"

"Promise."

Freya gave another kiss before turning away. "Be nice," she tossed over her shoulder as she left. "He is your king."

"And yours, love."

"And mine." Freya left to go finish cooking whatever concoction was on the fire.

Arthur was befuddled. What relationship did the two women have that their trade for favors was strawberries? And why did Maralina have to promise they'd be strawberries this time? What happened last time? And why did Freya emphasize that he was Maralina's king? And why did Maralina repeat that back to Freya?

Maralina snapped Arthur out of his trance by holding the deck of cards out to Arthur. "Shuffle the deck," she ordered.

Arthur took the deck more or less out of instinct. As king, he did a lot of taking things that were handed to him. He shuffled the deck, as asked, because Maralina told him to. No matter if he understood what was happening or why, it was happening and it was probably better to just go along with it.

"And back to me."

He handed the deck back over.

"You want to know about yourself, who you are, yes?"

Arthur nodded, with a timidity he hadn't had for years. "Y-Yes, ma'am."

"Good," Maralina answered with a nod. She flipped out the first card and tapped it against her chin. "This is you." She placed the card on the table. "The Seven of Cups. Upright."

Arthur decided to drop all pretense of being king and give in to the natural curiosity, wonder, and fear that he had swimming through him. "What does that mean?"

"You want purpose in your life," she replied, mystically. "Have choices to make. Are distracted by visions of the future."

"But I don't have visions," Arthur insisted, much like a child insisting he didn't need a nap. "That would be sorcery!"

A sharp rap from the deck of cards hit the back of Arthur's hand. "Hush!" Maralina snapped, much like Arthur's tutors when he was being particularly dense. "You know nothing of sorcery!"

He stuck his nose in the air. "I know nothing good can ever come of using such powers. They are unnatural."

Another rap on his hand. "You know nothing, Arthur Pendragon. All you know is what that idiot father of yours told you. Now, you want me to finish the reading or no?"

Arthur looked down at the table, feeling thoroughly cowed. "Please."

Maralina nodded approvingly as Arthur raised his head again. "Good. You have choices, want purpose." She flipped out the next card and placed it to the left of the one on the table already. "Your past. Four of Cups. Upright."

"Meaning?"

"You do not care, but you think. You float above the world, not properly seeing what happens." Arthur opened his mouth to ask a question, to deny what was just said, but Maralina just kept speaking. "You are disconnected and apathetic. Abuse commoners because it amuses you, bully passersby because your friends want you to, say you have friends when what you have are sycophants."

Arthur had to admit that was true. He did abuse commoners and pretend he had friends. That's the way I found Merlin, he thought. He came in to defend Morris from me. "But?"

"In your future…" She flipped out another card, placing it on the right of the first card, a horizontal line of three across the table. "The Knight of Pentacles. Upright. Hard work and responsibility are in your future. Your wife, I know, is with child." Maralina looked up from the cards and stared straight into the king's eyes. "I do hope you are responsible for her." Her tone made that sound like a definite threat.

"Her?" Arthur asked, bewildered.

"Your daughter," Maralina said, in a tone that suggested Arthur should have thought of that first. "Princess of Camelot? Needs to have a safe place to live, grow up, become queen." Arthur nodded, shocked into silence. Maralina looked back at the cards. "You work hard in future, are responsible. A good king."

"A good king," Arthur echoed.

"More?" Maralina asked. "Or do you want to stop?"

Arthur leant forward over the table, like a child wanting to see their father's work. "Oh, keep going, please."

"The known." Maralina flipped out another card, placing it above the first. "The Fool. Upright. New beginnings and an unchained spirit. A change is coming to Camelot and you know it. It also means innocence." Maralina stared directly at the king again. "You know what innocent change is coming to Camelot."

Arthur froze. How can she know? This random woman, this Lower Town fortune teller struggling to get by, knew the repeal of the magic ban was coming. She knew, somehow. No one knew. Guinevere didn't know. The Round Table didn't know. The lords and ladies Arthur would have to convince didn't know. Hells, Merlin didn't know and he managed to learn anything and everything. How did this woman know?

Maralina suddenly reached across the table and snatched Arthur's hand. "And, young king," she began ominously. "I will tell you. Many in Camelot know and await your new beginning."

Arthur just stared back. Many knew and many awaited the repeal. Arthur knew there were secret magic users in Camelot; those were the people the repeal was for. But many of them? He'd always figured it was a small handful. The Druids were outside the city (a small voice chimed in that he was in the presence of Druids, but that was beyond the point). But many. Many.

Maralina released Arthur's hand and flipped out another card, placing it below the first, making a cross of cards on the velvet. "And finally, the unknown. The Five of Wands, upright. A competition, a conflict of some sort. Someone will tell you something unpleasant and you will compete with it in your mind."

Arthur's eyes widened. Someone will tell me something unpleasant. Someone close to him had magic. One of his knights, his queen, one of his trusted advisors. Someone had magic. Someone was plotting against you, a small voice that sounded quite like Uther chimed in. Arthur did his best to ignore that voice, but the worry stuck to his mind.

"I think you know what that is, my king."

Maralina was a Druid. There was no other explanation. She knew someone in the castle had magic, but wouldn't say anything out of a misguided sense of loyalty to her kindred. Arthur only blinked. Maralina began to collect her cards back into the deck as Arthur only stared blankly.

"This is the end of my services to you, young king."

Arthur blinked a few times, before coming back to himself. Nothing had changed, but everything had changed. He was a newer person, who knew what decision had to be made. "Thank you, my lady."

Maralina smiled widely before calling to Freya. "Freya, love, my lady, he calls me."

Arthur couldn't see, but he knew Freya was shaking her head. "Don't let it go to your head, love," she replied.

"Go to my head, you know who I am." Who I am? Arthur wondered.

He could also tell Freya was rolling her eyes. "I do. Finish your session and we'll talk."

Maralina smiled before turning back to Arthur. "Wives," she said, clearly deeply in love with Freya.

Arthur smiled back at her. "Wives," he echoed, in much the same tone.

The deck was set to the side. "My king, I trust I have given you all you could ask for?"

Arthur nodded eagerly. "Of course, and more," he answered, breathless. "What do you ask in return?"

"Only my freedom, my king. Nothing more."

That sealed it: magic was involved in this reading. Arthur found himself surprisingly unbothered by this revelation. The ban will be repealed.

"Absolutely," he vowed. "I will see you handsomely rewarded."

Maralina stood, pushing her chair back under the table. Abruptly, she sank into the deepest curtsy anyone had ever given Arthur. "Thank you, my king," she said, her head nearly touching the floor.

Arthur excused himself and left. He had plenty of work to do before the ban could be repealed in earnest. The door slammed shut. Only after the door was firmly closed did Maralina straighten again, brushing her hair out of her face. Freya tapped the spoon she was holding against the edge of the cooking pot.

"Now, Merlin. Change and we'll have dinner."

Merlin dropped the fake accent. "But, why, darling?"

"Because I don't want you dressed like that sitting at my dinner table." She looked at her husband, still in a female form. He was still attractive, of course, but not the man she fell in love with. "Go," she ordered. "I'll take the tablecloth off."

Merlin started to go off to the curtained-off sleeping area of their home as Freya started to walk in the opposite direction to clear off the table of its unnecessary cloth. Merlin stepped into her way and reciprocated her gestures, stealing a kiss on Freya's cheek. Freya giggled, then playfully whacked Merlin's hand with her spoon.

"Change," she insisted, waving her spoon threateningly.

Merlin changed his shape back into that of a man. He was still wearing his skirt and veil, but had the body of the man Freya knew and loved. "That enough for you?"

"You know what I meant," Freya laughed.

Merlin laughed back at her before going to properly change as she wanted. There was a short list of people Merlin would disobey and Freya was near the bottom of that list. Freya started to remove the tablecloth, taking care not to crush or split the rich fabric.

"Don't you think you were a little harsh on him, dear?" she called back to where her husband was changing.

"No," Merlin said, over the jewels and coins hitting the floor. "I think I gave that prat the kick in the arse he needed to get on with it!"

Freya rolled her eyes. "He's the king, Merlin." She folded the cloth and tucked it into its cupboard as her husband came out, now dressed in the typical well-worn blue shirt, well-loved red neckerchief, and ratty brown jacket that Freya was used to.

"I know," he said, adjusting his sleeves. "But when has that ever stopped me?"

Freya only rolled her eyes. Merlin was an idiot sometimes, but he was her idiot, and that had to account for something. She rubbed the simple bracelet wrapped around her left wrist. Merlin had the same one around his. They didn't have the money for rings, but leather bands served the same purpose.

"Sit down," Freya said. "Dinner time."

Arthur was also spending the evening with his wife. He sat down at the dinner table, where Guinevere had been waiting for him. As he sat down, he planted a small kiss on his wife's cheek. Guinevere smiled. Random acts of affection were always nice.

"Guinevere," Arthur greeted.

"Arthur," Guinevere replied.

"Would you like to guess how I spent my afternoon?"

Guinevere pretended to think for a moment. "Mmm…hitting random peasants with wooden swords?" she joked.

"Guinevere!" Arthur exclaimed with a laugh.

Guinevere joined in the laughter. "No, you're not like that anymore." She took a delicate bite of the potatoes on her plate. Those were acceptable at the moment. "You've been visiting the market to find fabric to make a quilt for little Rhian." Guinevere laid a hand on her belly, where the barest beginnings of their child was showing.

"No."

"Buying me mulberries for that foreign ice dessert I like?"

"No."

"I give up then," she said with a smile.

"I visited the fortune teller you told me about. Maralina?"

"Oh, did you?" Guinevere took a delicate bite of the meat on her plate and promptly pulled a face of disgust. That is vile! She pushed the meat away from her with one hand, bringing her napkin to her face with the other. She spit the bite out as politely as possible. "And what did she tell you?" A sip of water to chase the flavor out.

Arthur went to help Guinevere as best he could before she gestured to carry on the conversation. There was nothing Arthur could do at the moment. "Nothing I didn't already know," he replied, lightly.

Guinevere looked at him with her bright brown eyes full of curiosity. "Then why did you go?"

"She gave me the strength to do what I wanted to."

"Which is?"

"Guinevere, I have to tell you something."

Their dinner was eaten and the remnants forgotten as Arthur unveiled his plans. Guinevere was surprised at first, but certainly supported the repeal. Too many innocent people had been lost to the Purge; this way, they could guarantee no one else lost nearly all their family to false charges.

The next morning, the sun was shining brightly and the smell of flowers floated through the window. Merlin was hard at work, ostensibly cleaning. In reality, what he was doing was mucking about and finding excuses to stay near Arthur. Arthur put down his quill and looked at Merlin over the desk.

"Merlin," he said, imperiously.

"Yes, sire?" Merlin tossed casually over his shoulder.

"Take a seat." Arthur's tone was cold as ice and brooked no disagreement.

Merlin froze. Turned slowly. Took the steps to the desk like a man being led to the gallows. Sank into a seat. "Do you want something?" he asked, cautiously. "Has my work been unsatisfactory?"

"No more unsatisfactory than usual." What would have usually been a casual joke sounded more like a threat. Merlin gave a weak smile as Arthur continued to speak. "I spoke to a fortune teller yesterday."

Merlin started to spiral into panic. Has he figured out who I am? Who 'Maralina' was? Who Freya is? The panic filled Merlin's mind as he answered "Did you?" in the calmest tone of voice possible.

"I did," Arthur confirmed. "And she as good as told me that someone close to me has magic."

Merlin went pale and his blood ran cold. He knew what the fortune teller told Arthur, of course. He'd have to. But Arthur figured it out too quickly. He wasn't supposed to know. This was supposed to be the opportunity to tell Arthur on his own terms. Instead, Arthur was getting what he wanted when he wanted it, not Merlin. "Did she?" he reiterated, willing his voice not to shake.

Arthur nodded. "It's not one of my knights."

Merlin stayed silent at that comment. It wasn't true, of course. Percival and Mordred were Druids and each had some talent in magic. Both had rejected his teaching, of course, but they hid their skills well enough. In confidence, Elyan had told Merlin as well. Elyan was a warlock. Merlin hadn't been able to break the news to Gwen yet, not after she'd lost her entire family to false accusations of magic.

"It's certainly not Guinevere," Arthur continued. "Gods know she's been suspected enough."

Merlin nodded and swallowed the growing lump in his throat. This is not going well.

"Merlin." Arthur leaned forward over his desk. "I will ask you straight out. Are you a sorcerer?"

Plenty of excuses flew to Merlin's tongue unbidden. Excuses that would give him the chance to tell Arthur of his magic on his own terms. He could deflect, call Arthur ridiculous for thinking such a thing possible. He could out Mordred, eliminate the threat once and for all. He could take advantage of Arthur's unintentional ambiguity, reveal nothing because he was a warlock, not a sorcerer. All of these thoughts stopped as soon as Merlin looked into Arthur's eyes.

He was open to the idea. Receptive. Wouldn't fly off the handle in some way. This was the best time to tell him.

Merlin took a deep breath. "Arthur, I need to tell you something."

I also posted this over on my AO3 account if you guys want to read it over there. Hope you enjoyed!