Sophinisba Solis (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sophinisba) wrote2010-01-31 11:46 am
sophinisba) wrote2010-01-31 11:46 am
Entry tags:
Merlin fic repost: Into His Own (OT4+Morgause gen)
Title: Into His Own
Fandom: Merlin
Characters: Morgana, Arthur, Morgause, Merlin, Gwen (gen)
Warnings: Battle violence (not detailed)
Spoilers: All of seasons 1 and 2.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 5013
Summary: Morgana watches to see what kind of king Arthur will become.
Author's Note: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
alexajohnson for ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
camelotsolstice and previously posted here; also archived at the AO3. Many thanks to claudia603 and cat_77 for betaing!
Morgause was the one watching Camelot through the crystal that morning, even though usually it was Morgana. Morgause had taught her how to control it, make it show her whatever place in the world she wanted to see. She'd also taught her how to understand her dreams, to see them as the gifts they were and not to fear them. But Morgause chided Morgana for spending so much time watching one particular place, following the little lives of the great people of Camelot.
"It's one thing to spy on the enemy," she would say, "another thing to watch them like a lover."
Morgause insisted on watching every execution of a witch or wizard. She wanted to know about meetings of strategy between the tyrant, his son, and the knights. But she complained that Morgana spent more time watching Arthur's training sessions than participating in her own – Morgause was more skilled with a sword than Arthur, but Morgana missed the open air and the silhouette of the castle when she practised. She stayed at the crystal for hours. In the dark of Morgause's cave she would watch her maidservant in the dark of her little home, bent over her work and straining her eyes. She watched Merlin in the physician's chambers, watched the casual way his hands moved over poisons and antidotes. She watched Merlin following Arthur on another hunt, Merlin and Arthur attacked by mercenaries, Arthur defending himself with a sword and Merlin –
Morgana cried out his name and Morgause barely even recognised it.
"What, the servant boy?"
"He's magic. He's got magic. I think he's had it all along."
"Nonsense, why would he have used a simple poison against you, and used you as a hostage against me? And why would he stay at Camelot?"
"For Arthur." Morgana was reeling, gasping, and her body took her back to the moment she thought she was dying in Merlin's arms. But Morgause had a hand at Morgana's back and she reminded herself she was safe now, made herself breathe. "He stays so he can protect Arthur." She peered at the crystal again to see Arthur chasing off the last of the attackers and then turning back to berate his servant. "And Arthur has no idea."
That was months ago. Since then she'd kept her eye on Merlin most of all, learning about his powers and confirming that no one in the castle expect for Gaius knew his secret. Sometimes seeing the way he hid himself from Arthur made her heart ache for him, but other times it filled her with envy and resentment, wonder at what could have been. Perhaps with Merlin on her side Morgana too could have stayed in Camelot, helping Arthur keep his father's rages under control. She could still have Gwen to keep her company and speak to her plainly when she forgot herself. Perhaps if Gaius had given her the kind of support he gave Merlin, she too would have been able to develop her powers and use them to help her friends…not to plot and pine in this dismal exile.
Morgana kept these thoughts to herself, but that morning they came back to her when Morgause, still looking into the crystal, declared, "It is done, he is dead at last."
"Who's dead?" Morgana had watched Arthur fight battle after battle, and her whole body still tensed with fear every time. Had Merlin finally failed him while she wasn't watching? And if Morgana had been there, could she have helped them?
"Uther Pendragon is no more. Our time has come again."
"Did you kill him?"
"No, child, it is only our good fortune, not my magic that makes it so."
"May I see?"
Morgause made room for Morgana to stand next to her, and in the smoky flat surface she saw the still face of the man who'd raised her, peaceful as in sleep.
"Camelot will fall, the Old Religion will rise again, and our dead shall be avenged," Morgause was saying, and suddenly all Morgana could think about was Uther's strong arms wrapped around her as she wept at her father's grave.
***
Merlin jumped out of bed, surprised that Gaius hadn't shouted to wake him. The sun was shining brightly outside, and Arthur would complain again about having missed breakfast because of his lazy, incompetent servant. Best to go and get it out of the way. Merlin dressed quickly and ran to the kitchen, where no one spoke to him. Indeed the castle was strangely quiet. Maybe it was some kind of holiday that no one had thought to tell him about, and so he wouldn't be in trouble after all.
When he reached Arthur's chambers he was surprised to find Gaius already there, speaking in low tones to Arthur, who stood with one hand on the table, his fingers spread wide and tense.
"What is it?" said Merlin. "What's happened?"
"Perhaps you could give us a moment, Merlin," Gaius said quietly, "I'll explain later."
"It's all right," said Arthur, "he'll need to know. My father's died in his sleep, Merlin."
Merlin stared. "Are you – Do you –"
"Gaius assures me he died of natural causes, no poison and no sorcery." Gaius nodded. "So it's…fairly simple. There will have to be a funeral, and a coronation."
Gaius said, "I'll go and tell the knights, sire. Shall I meet you in your father's chambers?"
"Yes, Gaius," Arthur said with a nod, "that will be fine."
Gaius backed out of the room, leaving the two of them alone, and Merlin realised he was still holding the breakfast tray. He set it on the table with a clatter that caused Arthur to glare at him for a moment but not to say anything.
"Sorry," Merlin said nervously, and then again, making it clear that he meant it, "I'm sorry, Arthur."
He found he didn't know what to do with his hands. He wanted to give Arthur a hug but that would probably be rejected.
"Would you like – what would you like me to do, sire?"
Arthur paused. "It's going to be – I'll need formal dress today, and armour."
"Right now though?" said Merlin. "Aren't you going to see him alone first? Can't you just –"
"No, Merlin, there is no 'just', there's no time. Go on, you've brought back my robes from the ceremony last week, I hope."
Merlin turned away toward the wardrobe, thinking maybe the best he could do was to hold his tongue. He remembered stopping himself from crying over his own father's death, how Arthur had told him later than no man was worth his tears. He wondered if Arthur really believed that. When he came back with Arthur's clothes he said, "There is a little bit of time. He died peacefully, not in the middle of a war. It's good you've got a chance –"
"I have no such thing," Arthur snapped. "Don't try to talk about matters you don't understand. This is the absolute worst time for me to show any weakness."
"Mourning your father isn't weakness," Merlin said, "it's just…humanity. What kind of king are you going to be if you can't let your people see that?"
"Please do your job and quit telling me how to do mine," Arthur said with a tired sigh, and Merlin knew that continuing to argue would only add to Arthur's worries right now, so he shut up and got to work on the practical matters of dress and armour. But he had to hope Arthur would consider humanity and mercy to be part of his job – for the sake of the kingdom as well as Merlin's own skin.
***
The message came tied to a falcon's leg. Morgause sneered and set the scrap of parchment on fire as soon as she'd finished reading.
"What is it?" asked Morgana.
"Bayard of Mercia has at last answered my call for an alliance to move against Camelot."
"What, now? With Uther not yet buried?" Morgana was horrified, Morgause only bitter.
"For years I've been trying to convince him that with the help of the Priestesses and sorcerers he could defeat Uther, but he never listened. He cares for power, not justice. Only now, with Camelot at its weakest, does he ask for my help."
"But Camelot doesn't need to be an enemy of the Old Religion anymore. Uther was obsessed, but Arthur…Arthur is an honourable man. He was kind and fair to me…" Well, apart from being a selfish boy a lot of the time, she thought. He was kind and fair when it counted.
"He was raised on his father's lies."
"So was I."
Morgause shook her head. "But you're one of us. Arthur won't change his mind. Even when I tried to show him the suffering he'd brought on his mother –"
"It wasn't enough," said Morgana, who'd heard this story before, "because it was too brief, and then he had to return to his father. But things are different now. With Uther gone, where is Arthur going to put his trust?"
"In the traitor, in Merlin."
"No, in Merlin, our ally."
"He tried to kill you, Morgana." Morgause was reaching tenderly for Morgana's face, the way she always did when she sought to protect her, but Morgana stopped her hand.
"Don't think I can forget," she said, forcing herself to smile. "But Merlin was tricked into thinking I was the enemy, just as Arthur was always tricked into hating all of us."
"Merlin should have known better."
"What, and who was there to teach him? Gaius? Kilgara?"
Morgause grimaced. "He could have listened to Nimueh, or to me."
"No," said Morgana. "Nimueh was trying to kill Arthur, and you…"
"Yes?"
"You didn't care about Merlin, and you were trying to use Arthur. Merlin wouldn't stand for that. It's just…even if you don't care to think of them as people, call it a question of strategy. If you want to convince Merlin of something, the last way to do it is to hurt the people he loves."
"Yet I was able to convince you."
Morgana nodded. "Because at that point I was sure no one in Camelot would love me once they knew what I really was."
"Morgana…"
"It doesn't have to be that way anymore. I know Arthur. He's stubborn and arrogant but he is capable of listening and he's capable of change. We mustn't let Bayard strike against him."
"Bayard will attack with or without our help."
"Then let him think he has our help, but let us fight for justice, and not for power."
Morgana kept her expression firm and unwavering while Morgause studied her, considering.
"We will go with him," she said finally, "and we'll decide our allegiance once King Arthur shows us his. Does that satisfy you?"
Hardly able to believe that she'd managed to convince Morgause of something, Morgana said nothing, only nodded her head once. Morgause reached for a quill and parchment and began her answer to Mercia's king.
***
Gwen was having trouble holding back the tears, and she had trouble understanding why. It wasn't as if she'd felt any affection for Uther, and it wasn't as if she would miss him now he was gone. Ever since she was a girl, but especially since Merlin's arrival in the castle, when Arthur had started to listen a little more and bully the servants a little less, she'd been dreaming of the day when he'd become king. Still, today she was missing the prince. He'd always had too much weight on his shoulders but in the old days Merlin still knew how to make him laugh. She didn't know if Arthur would be the boy she loved anymore, now that the wellbeing of the whole kingdom depended on him.
"People of Camelot," Arthur was saying to the crowd gathered in the castle courtyard, "I know you mourn for my father as I do, but rest assured there is no reason to be afraid, for I intend to continue his work."
The people were quiet. No one dared to complain, but Gwen knew this speech would not make them happy. Not with the news of the army approaching from Mercia, and not with the memory of so many of their sons sent off to battle, their sisters and fathers and friends burnt at the stake in this very courtyard. Gwen looked across the balcony to Merlin, who was standing a few feet behind Arthur – Gwen was tucked away inside the castle, out of sight of the crowd. She frowned at her friend, trying to communicate, Do something, don't let him tell them he's just another Uther but with more years left to live, but he just shrugged at her, and she decided that was an awful lot to try to accomplish with a glare.
"Our laws, our knights and our defences will remain strong as ever before," Arthur said. "Our enemies, both within and without, will fear us as they always have."
Quite unable to believe what she was doing, Gwen found herself striding out onto the balcony to stand next to the new king, and then she took his hand in hers.
"What are you doing, Guinevere?" Arthur murmured, and she might have laughed at the way he spoke out of the side of his mouth if she hadn't been so terrified.
"I'm not quite sure," she answered, but then she raised her voice and said to the crowd, "But not everything will be the same." Looking down she could tell at once that some of them were starting to listen more carefully, and as they looked up at her she recognised more of their faces. "A lot of you know me. You knew my father, Tom the blacksmith. And I know this man, Arthur Pendragon. I know he's someone who cares about his people. He believes a peasant's life is worth as much as a lord's, and when a servant tells him what she thinks, he listens. Our enemies will still fear us," Gwen felt her voice start to shake but she forced herself to finish, calling out, "but we don't need to be afraid of our king ever again."
That was all she had to say, and as the crowd cheered and she stepped back she started to feel unsteady on her feet, but Arthur kept hold of her hand and then Merlin had an arm around her waist. She squeezed Arthur's hand and then let go and walked away, letting Merlin support her. She could only half-hear Arthur's words, but she knew that the tone had changed, that he was speaking for himself now, and starting to sound like a leader the people would want to follow.
"That was mad, Gwen," Merlin whispered in her ear, "that was perfect."
***
Morgause's message said they would not put themselves at risk, but they would send along another ally, a secret weapon that Bayard would recognise when he saw it.
But Morgana and Morgause dressed in knights' armour so they could join Bayard's army as mercenaries without having to identify themselves or even having to speak. In the Mercian camp they demonstrated their skill at swordplay, winning respect and bets by besting one soldier after another. Morgause, used to training Morgana and probably many others before her, took time after almost every contest to explain to the loser how he had failed. Morgana wondered whether they recognised her voice as a woman's – to Morgana it simply sounded like knowledge and authority, and they probably didn't question in either, after seeing her fight.
The two mysterious knights slept in their own tent and discussed their plans when the others had passed out on spirits and tall tales.
"Why haven't we ever done this before?" Morgana asked. She was worried about her friends and the place she used to call home, but she hadn't felt this exhilarated in months – perhaps not since the battle to defend Ealdor.
"We do not fight for sport," said Morgause, but Morgana didn't feel chastised. She'd had enough of hiding in caves, waiting for the chance to strike. Come to think of it, she'd had enough of secrets altogether.
"Tomorrow the truth will come out," she said.
Morgana dreamed of fire and she didn't wake up screaming.
***
Arthur had tried to tell Merlin to stay back at the castle. Gaius and Gwen would need his help tending to the wounded as they were sent back.
"In that case," Merlin had said, "they ought to come with us as well. Or else we should all stay back, use the castle's defences…"
"I don't want to put the civilians in danger, not when the army can take on the enemy at our borders."
Merlin had simply shrugged. "Point is, you're not getting rid of me that easily. And anyway, you never know when I might turn out to be useful."
"But I know exactly how often you turn out to be a nuisance. Falling off your horse all the time, scaring away the game, thrown on your back whenever a bandit jumps on us, can't hold up a sword to save your life –"
"There's a lot you don't know about me, actually."
"Merlin, you've been my servant for over two years. You're really not that interesting, despite what your mother may have led you to believe."
The truth was that Merlin continued to fascinate Arthur. There was so much about him that Arthur couldn't understand. He had no explanation, for instance, for Merlin's quiet confidence as they rode out to battle, to face an army that was larger than theirs – though not as well equipped or as loyal to its king. Merlin's cheerfulness now made no more sense than the casual way he'd declared "that's enough" at their first meeting or the way he'd insisted on going with Arthur to face the dragon after their last hope of controlling it was lost.
There was no actual wall at the edge of the kingdom, or even a stream or a mountain ridge to mark it definitively, but Arthur had ridden out on patrols often enough to know the land and its borders well. He recognised flag posts that he'd set himself. Apart from that, of course, there was the foreign army camped just beyond them, marking the line by the way they stood poised to cross it.
The borders had been settled on along with the terms of peace, promises on each side that they would not be crossed with violence. Arthur hadn't had much to do with hammering out the details, but he'd been present, had exchanged small talk, toasts, and ceremonials gifts with Bayard and the men of his household. He'd known all along that he couldn't actually trust them, that if Camelot ever showed weakness their carefully negotiated agreements would be discarded like bones after a feast.
Still, it angered him to see them here. He thought of Merlin saying it was good Arthur had a chance to mourn for his father, and he wanted to scream at Bayard for denying him that chance. Instead he shouted, "You can go back now without betraying our agreements. Turn around, return to your own lands, and this unprovoked attack against a peaceful neighbour will be forgiven."
"Camelot has never been a peaceful neighbour," Bayard answered, and even calling across a field his voice was cynical, patronising. There was no real anger here – he was only taking advantage of a situation that suited him. "You have mistrusted us, accusing us of treachery at every turn, even when the threat to your kingdom came from another direction entirely. You offer to forgive us, but as yet we have not broken the treaty you forced upon us. For too many years we have lived in uncertainty, never knowing when you might attack. This time, we move first."
"Camelot has a new ruler," said Arthur, remembering Gwen's speech to the townspeople. "Can we not put aside past grievances and begin again as friends?"
Bayard refused, as Arthur knew he would. It had seemed right to try nevertheless. Arthur's knights led the charge and he rode with them into the fray. For a long time it was hard to make any sense of what was happening. He could only fight whoever was attacking him in that moment, could barely hear through the shouts or see through the flashing of swords, the blood and mud that splattered on his helmet and even got in his eyes. He lost the sense of where the border was, but he guessed there was fighting on both sides of it. He lost track of Merlin (who shouldn't even be here, who should at least have stood off to the side as he did during practices), and he'd see Kay or Leon in one moment only to lose them in the next. But after a while he was able to build up a picture from the glimpses he caught, looking around between one fight and the next or riding over a rise in the land. He knew that King Bayard himself was not fighting. He was mounted on horseback with his knights surrounded him so he would not be at risk while he called out his orders.
It was only the prudent thing to do. Arthur's own father, in no way a coward, had often remained inside a battle tent or even back at the castle while his armies fought for him. His life was worth more than a soldier's, he'd explained, and its loss would mean chaos and almost certain defeat for the whole kingdom. Still, it wasn't in Arthur to let another man risk his life while he stayed out of harm's way. He felt contempt toward Bayard but knew it would make no sense to attack him when he was so well protected. Anyhow, much of the Mercian army was beyond the reach of the king's voice. They weren't following him but rather two swordsmen who went on foot. The men dressed in black armour that showed not even a patch of skin, and still somehow both seemed familiar to Arthur. Perhaps it was their movements, their way of walking, their skill with the blade. It would be dangerous to fight one of them, but if they could be defeated…
"The men in black," Arthur said to Gawain, who was at his side then, and who nodded in understanding and started moving toward the farther one even as Arthur was explaining, "take them out and the battle will be ours."
Only Arthur and Gawain never had time to reach the dark knights, because at that moment something changed. Arthur heard a great whooshing noise and felt a gust of wind like having the breath knocked out of him. He looked up to see an enormous winged beast blocking out the light of the sun.
"Oh no," Arthur said, aloud but quiet enough no one would hear him over the noise of the battle and now the dragon's wings. "No, it can't be."
Arthur wasn't trembling, but he knew some of his knights were. No one could forget the damage the dragon had done when it attacked the castle, the men it had dropped from the battlements or set ablaze with its breath.
He wasn't really surprised to notice that Merlin was standing beside him again. Merlin had always had that knack for appearing at the strangest moments. "You told me I'd killed it," Arthur shouted. "Why did you – why do I ever believe you?"
But Merlin didn't answer, didn't seem to be listening to Arthur at all. He was staring at the dragon – which was understandable, except that his eyes had gone blank somehow, and his whole face and bearing took on a look Arthur had never seen on him before. He was standing on the ground so that Arthur looked down on him from his horse, and yet without growing in size Merlin was suddenly larger and more frightening than the dragon or the whole of Mercia's army.
Both armies had gone still, staring like Arthur at the wizard and the dragon, and when Merlin opened his mouth to speak it seemed to Arthur that he wasn't even hearing him, that he perceived the voice with some other sense he hadn't even had before, and he couldn't understand a word but he felt the threat and the violence shaking his bones.
When the dragon roared back Arthur felt it the same way, as rage and defiance and pain so deep that his ears couldn't even start to take it in. And, all right, that was one thing coming from a dragon, but Merlin?
Merlin raised his voice again and this time he also raised his sword, and when light shot out from his hand and his eyes it was the same way, too bright for Arthur to see with his eyes but too vivid to ignore, and when the bolt of light struck the dragon faltered, screaming even higher and deeper than before. It flapped its wings clumsily and started to drop out of the sky, and in Arthur's memory he heard Merlin telling him, "You dealt him a mortal blow."
Merlin, his manservant, the last of the Dragonlords, lying to him then as he'd been lying all along.
The Mercian soldiers scrambled out of the way as the great dragon's body crashed to the ground, and Merlin turned to look up at Arthur, his eyes wet with tears.
"I told you," he said, "you never know when you might need me."
***
The fighting had stopped, and across the battlefield Morgana watched Morgause watching Arthur. She didn't feel sorrow or satisfaction over the dragon's death, even though she knew now that he'd been the one to turn Merlin against her during her last months in the castle. She didn't feel anger toward Merlin now either, only anticipation. She oughtn't leave her position at the head of this column, but she was too far away, she couldn't stand it. She needed to see whether that really was a smile on Merlin's face, and she wanted badly to hear what he was saying to Arthur. She crossed the field until she stood near Morgause, perhaps forty yards from Arthur and Merlin.
"Don't judge Arthur too harshly," Morgana said quietly. "As far as he's concerned, he's just been humiliated. His army and the enemy have just seen how little he knows of his own household, that his most trusted servant could turn out to be what his father most despised."
"And to think," said Morgause, "he still doesn't know about you."
They watched Merlin kneel and lay his sword on the ground while Arthur dismounted from his horse, still holding his sword in his hand.
"Beheading was one of Uther's punishments for treason," said Morgause.
"You won't intervene? Even – if you'd let me speak to him. Arthur always listened to me, even when he pretended not to. I know I could convince him…"
Morgause shook her head. "For one who was faithful to the Old Religion, I might, but Merlin, for all he is blessed with great power, has never been one of ours. He's only the test. Arthur told Bayard he wanted to forget old grudges and begin anew. If he punishes the boy for using magic, we'll know whether he's still our enemy, and we'll act accordingly."
With her heart in her mouth and a restless army at her back, Morgana watched as Arthur touched the flat of his sword to Merlin's shoulders. Then he held out a hand to pull Merlin up to stand, and the two men embraced.
That was the sign they needed, and watching her two dear friends together, Morgana couldn't stand to be apart from them any more. She didn't need to convince Morgause of anything more, for Arthur's intentions were clear. Both women took off their helmets, loosing their long hair and grinning at each other in understanding – the battle was over, and some men had fallen, no side had lost. The Mercians soldiers gasped and some shouted in surprise, but Morgana knew they'd listen to the knight who had led them, never mind what she looked like. She let Morgause turn to speak to Bayard and the army, and she ran ahead across the open space to meet Arthur and Merlin.
Morgause would be saying something like, This king has on his side enough magic to defeat a dragon. He is not his father, and he is not an enemy we can afford to fight, nor one we should want to. The soldiers would be nodding their heads while Bayard sputtered that he would be the one to make such decisions, not some woman who'd infiltrated his army and had no authority here. But Morgana couldn't hear much over the clang of her armour and the pounding of her heart, and as she got closer there was the joyous shout of Arthur calling her name.
He was all jagged angles of armour and so was she, but she didn't care. She'd loved him like a brother for half her life, and being torn apart from him had been like losing her father all over again. She needed to wrap her arms around him, and she did.
"Morgana, I thought you were – I would have tried to kill you."
She shook her head, squeezing him as hard as she could. "You couldn't have beaten us," she said, "but it doesn't matter now. Everything's going to be different from now on."
"All right, all right," said Arthur, pulling away, "but Merlin's a sorcerer and we've still got Mercia –"
"No." She turned around to face what she knew was coming, Bayard riding up to meet them. His face looked dejected, but he would be offering them peace. Morgana took Arthur and Merlin's hands in hers. "Merlin's a sorcerer, and so is Morgause and so am I. We're on your side, King Arthur, and you're on ours. Gwen's waiting for us at Camelot, and I'm ready to go home."
Fandom: Merlin
Characters: Morgana, Arthur, Morgause, Merlin, Gwen (gen)
Warnings: Battle violence (not detailed)
Spoilers: All of seasons 1 and 2.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 5013
Summary: Morgana watches to see what kind of king Arthur will become.
Author's Note: Written for
alexajohnson for camelotsolstice and previously posted here; also archived at the AO3. Many thanks to claudia603 and cat_77 for betaing!Morgause was the one watching Camelot through the crystal that morning, even though usually it was Morgana. Morgause had taught her how to control it, make it show her whatever place in the world she wanted to see. She'd also taught her how to understand her dreams, to see them as the gifts they were and not to fear them. But Morgause chided Morgana for spending so much time watching one particular place, following the little lives of the great people of Camelot.
"It's one thing to spy on the enemy," she would say, "another thing to watch them like a lover."
Morgause insisted on watching every execution of a witch or wizard. She wanted to know about meetings of strategy between the tyrant, his son, and the knights. But she complained that Morgana spent more time watching Arthur's training sessions than participating in her own – Morgause was more skilled with a sword than Arthur, but Morgana missed the open air and the silhouette of the castle when she practised. She stayed at the crystal for hours. In the dark of Morgause's cave she would watch her maidservant in the dark of her little home, bent over her work and straining her eyes. She watched Merlin in the physician's chambers, watched the casual way his hands moved over poisons and antidotes. She watched Merlin following Arthur on another hunt, Merlin and Arthur attacked by mercenaries, Arthur defending himself with a sword and Merlin –
Morgana cried out his name and Morgause barely even recognised it.
"What, the servant boy?"
"He's magic. He's got magic. I think he's had it all along."
"Nonsense, why would he have used a simple poison against you, and used you as a hostage against me? And why would he stay at Camelot?"
"For Arthur." Morgana was reeling, gasping, and her body took her back to the moment she thought she was dying in Merlin's arms. But Morgause had a hand at Morgana's back and she reminded herself she was safe now, made herself breathe. "He stays so he can protect Arthur." She peered at the crystal again to see Arthur chasing off the last of the attackers and then turning back to berate his servant. "And Arthur has no idea."
That was months ago. Since then she'd kept her eye on Merlin most of all, learning about his powers and confirming that no one in the castle expect for Gaius knew his secret. Sometimes seeing the way he hid himself from Arthur made her heart ache for him, but other times it filled her with envy and resentment, wonder at what could have been. Perhaps with Merlin on her side Morgana too could have stayed in Camelot, helping Arthur keep his father's rages under control. She could still have Gwen to keep her company and speak to her plainly when she forgot herself. Perhaps if Gaius had given her the kind of support he gave Merlin, she too would have been able to develop her powers and use them to help her friends…not to plot and pine in this dismal exile.
Morgana kept these thoughts to herself, but that morning they came back to her when Morgause, still looking into the crystal, declared, "It is done, he is dead at last."
"Who's dead?" Morgana had watched Arthur fight battle after battle, and her whole body still tensed with fear every time. Had Merlin finally failed him while she wasn't watching? And if Morgana had been there, could she have helped them?
"Uther Pendragon is no more. Our time has come again."
"Did you kill him?"
"No, child, it is only our good fortune, not my magic that makes it so."
"May I see?"
Morgause made room for Morgana to stand next to her, and in the smoky flat surface she saw the still face of the man who'd raised her, peaceful as in sleep.
"Camelot will fall, the Old Religion will rise again, and our dead shall be avenged," Morgause was saying, and suddenly all Morgana could think about was Uther's strong arms wrapped around her as she wept at her father's grave.
Merlin jumped out of bed, surprised that Gaius hadn't shouted to wake him. The sun was shining brightly outside, and Arthur would complain again about having missed breakfast because of his lazy, incompetent servant. Best to go and get it out of the way. Merlin dressed quickly and ran to the kitchen, where no one spoke to him. Indeed the castle was strangely quiet. Maybe it was some kind of holiday that no one had thought to tell him about, and so he wouldn't be in trouble after all.
When he reached Arthur's chambers he was surprised to find Gaius already there, speaking in low tones to Arthur, who stood with one hand on the table, his fingers spread wide and tense.
"What is it?" said Merlin. "What's happened?"
"Perhaps you could give us a moment, Merlin," Gaius said quietly, "I'll explain later."
"It's all right," said Arthur, "he'll need to know. My father's died in his sleep, Merlin."
Merlin stared. "Are you – Do you –"
"Gaius assures me he died of natural causes, no poison and no sorcery." Gaius nodded. "So it's…fairly simple. There will have to be a funeral, and a coronation."
Gaius said, "I'll go and tell the knights, sire. Shall I meet you in your father's chambers?"
"Yes, Gaius," Arthur said with a nod, "that will be fine."
Gaius backed out of the room, leaving the two of them alone, and Merlin realised he was still holding the breakfast tray. He set it on the table with a clatter that caused Arthur to glare at him for a moment but not to say anything.
"Sorry," Merlin said nervously, and then again, making it clear that he meant it, "I'm sorry, Arthur."
He found he didn't know what to do with his hands. He wanted to give Arthur a hug but that would probably be rejected.
"Would you like – what would you like me to do, sire?"
Arthur paused. "It's going to be – I'll need formal dress today, and armour."
"Right now though?" said Merlin. "Aren't you going to see him alone first? Can't you just –"
"No, Merlin, there is no 'just', there's no time. Go on, you've brought back my robes from the ceremony last week, I hope."
Merlin turned away toward the wardrobe, thinking maybe the best he could do was to hold his tongue. He remembered stopping himself from crying over his own father's death, how Arthur had told him later than no man was worth his tears. He wondered if Arthur really believed that. When he came back with Arthur's clothes he said, "There is a little bit of time. He died peacefully, not in the middle of a war. It's good you've got a chance –"
"I have no such thing," Arthur snapped. "Don't try to talk about matters you don't understand. This is the absolute worst time for me to show any weakness."
"Mourning your father isn't weakness," Merlin said, "it's just…humanity. What kind of king are you going to be if you can't let your people see that?"
"Please do your job and quit telling me how to do mine," Arthur said with a tired sigh, and Merlin knew that continuing to argue would only add to Arthur's worries right now, so he shut up and got to work on the practical matters of dress and armour. But he had to hope Arthur would consider humanity and mercy to be part of his job – for the sake of the kingdom as well as Merlin's own skin.
The message came tied to a falcon's leg. Morgause sneered and set the scrap of parchment on fire as soon as she'd finished reading.
"What is it?" asked Morgana.
"Bayard of Mercia has at last answered my call for an alliance to move against Camelot."
"What, now? With Uther not yet buried?" Morgana was horrified, Morgause only bitter.
"For years I've been trying to convince him that with the help of the Priestesses and sorcerers he could defeat Uther, but he never listened. He cares for power, not justice. Only now, with Camelot at its weakest, does he ask for my help."
"But Camelot doesn't need to be an enemy of the Old Religion anymore. Uther was obsessed, but Arthur…Arthur is an honourable man. He was kind and fair to me…" Well, apart from being a selfish boy a lot of the time, she thought. He was kind and fair when it counted.
"He was raised on his father's lies."
"So was I."
Morgause shook her head. "But you're one of us. Arthur won't change his mind. Even when I tried to show him the suffering he'd brought on his mother –"
"It wasn't enough," said Morgana, who'd heard this story before, "because it was too brief, and then he had to return to his father. But things are different now. With Uther gone, where is Arthur going to put his trust?"
"In the traitor, in Merlin."
"No, in Merlin, our ally."
"He tried to kill you, Morgana." Morgause was reaching tenderly for Morgana's face, the way she always did when she sought to protect her, but Morgana stopped her hand.
"Don't think I can forget," she said, forcing herself to smile. "But Merlin was tricked into thinking I was the enemy, just as Arthur was always tricked into hating all of us."
"Merlin should have known better."
"What, and who was there to teach him? Gaius? Kilgara?"
Morgause grimaced. "He could have listened to Nimueh, or to me."
"No," said Morgana. "Nimueh was trying to kill Arthur, and you…"
"Yes?"
"You didn't care about Merlin, and you were trying to use Arthur. Merlin wouldn't stand for that. It's just…even if you don't care to think of them as people, call it a question of strategy. If you want to convince Merlin of something, the last way to do it is to hurt the people he loves."
"Yet I was able to convince you."
Morgana nodded. "Because at that point I was sure no one in Camelot would love me once they knew what I really was."
"Morgana…"
"It doesn't have to be that way anymore. I know Arthur. He's stubborn and arrogant but he is capable of listening and he's capable of change. We mustn't let Bayard strike against him."
"Bayard will attack with or without our help."
"Then let him think he has our help, but let us fight for justice, and not for power."
Morgana kept her expression firm and unwavering while Morgause studied her, considering.
"We will go with him," she said finally, "and we'll decide our allegiance once King Arthur shows us his. Does that satisfy you?"
Hardly able to believe that she'd managed to convince Morgause of something, Morgana said nothing, only nodded her head once. Morgause reached for a quill and parchment and began her answer to Mercia's king.
Gwen was having trouble holding back the tears, and she had trouble understanding why. It wasn't as if she'd felt any affection for Uther, and it wasn't as if she would miss him now he was gone. Ever since she was a girl, but especially since Merlin's arrival in the castle, when Arthur had started to listen a little more and bully the servants a little less, she'd been dreaming of the day when he'd become king. Still, today she was missing the prince. He'd always had too much weight on his shoulders but in the old days Merlin still knew how to make him laugh. She didn't know if Arthur would be the boy she loved anymore, now that the wellbeing of the whole kingdom depended on him.
"People of Camelot," Arthur was saying to the crowd gathered in the castle courtyard, "I know you mourn for my father as I do, but rest assured there is no reason to be afraid, for I intend to continue his work."
The people were quiet. No one dared to complain, but Gwen knew this speech would not make them happy. Not with the news of the army approaching from Mercia, and not with the memory of so many of their sons sent off to battle, their sisters and fathers and friends burnt at the stake in this very courtyard. Gwen looked across the balcony to Merlin, who was standing a few feet behind Arthur – Gwen was tucked away inside the castle, out of sight of the crowd. She frowned at her friend, trying to communicate, Do something, don't let him tell them he's just another Uther but with more years left to live, but he just shrugged at her, and she decided that was an awful lot to try to accomplish with a glare.
"Our laws, our knights and our defences will remain strong as ever before," Arthur said. "Our enemies, both within and without, will fear us as they always have."
Quite unable to believe what she was doing, Gwen found herself striding out onto the balcony to stand next to the new king, and then she took his hand in hers.
"What are you doing, Guinevere?" Arthur murmured, and she might have laughed at the way he spoke out of the side of his mouth if she hadn't been so terrified.
"I'm not quite sure," she answered, but then she raised her voice and said to the crowd, "But not everything will be the same." Looking down she could tell at once that some of them were starting to listen more carefully, and as they looked up at her she recognised more of their faces. "A lot of you know me. You knew my father, Tom the blacksmith. And I know this man, Arthur Pendragon. I know he's someone who cares about his people. He believes a peasant's life is worth as much as a lord's, and when a servant tells him what she thinks, he listens. Our enemies will still fear us," Gwen felt her voice start to shake but she forced herself to finish, calling out, "but we don't need to be afraid of our king ever again."
That was all she had to say, and as the crowd cheered and she stepped back she started to feel unsteady on her feet, but Arthur kept hold of her hand and then Merlin had an arm around her waist. She squeezed Arthur's hand and then let go and walked away, letting Merlin support her. She could only half-hear Arthur's words, but she knew that the tone had changed, that he was speaking for himself now, and starting to sound like a leader the people would want to follow.
"That was mad, Gwen," Merlin whispered in her ear, "that was perfect."
Morgause's message said they would not put themselves at risk, but they would send along another ally, a secret weapon that Bayard would recognise when he saw it.
But Morgana and Morgause dressed in knights' armour so they could join Bayard's army as mercenaries without having to identify themselves or even having to speak. In the Mercian camp they demonstrated their skill at swordplay, winning respect and bets by besting one soldier after another. Morgause, used to training Morgana and probably many others before her, took time after almost every contest to explain to the loser how he had failed. Morgana wondered whether they recognised her voice as a woman's – to Morgana it simply sounded like knowledge and authority, and they probably didn't question in either, after seeing her fight.
The two mysterious knights slept in their own tent and discussed their plans when the others had passed out on spirits and tall tales.
"Why haven't we ever done this before?" Morgana asked. She was worried about her friends and the place she used to call home, but she hadn't felt this exhilarated in months – perhaps not since the battle to defend Ealdor.
"We do not fight for sport," said Morgause, but Morgana didn't feel chastised. She'd had enough of hiding in caves, waiting for the chance to strike. Come to think of it, she'd had enough of secrets altogether.
"Tomorrow the truth will come out," she said.
Morgana dreamed of fire and she didn't wake up screaming.
Arthur had tried to tell Merlin to stay back at the castle. Gaius and Gwen would need his help tending to the wounded as they were sent back.
"In that case," Merlin had said, "they ought to come with us as well. Or else we should all stay back, use the castle's defences…"
"I don't want to put the civilians in danger, not when the army can take on the enemy at our borders."
Merlin had simply shrugged. "Point is, you're not getting rid of me that easily. And anyway, you never know when I might turn out to be useful."
"But I know exactly how often you turn out to be a nuisance. Falling off your horse all the time, scaring away the game, thrown on your back whenever a bandit jumps on us, can't hold up a sword to save your life –"
"There's a lot you don't know about me, actually."
"Merlin, you've been my servant for over two years. You're really not that interesting, despite what your mother may have led you to believe."
The truth was that Merlin continued to fascinate Arthur. There was so much about him that Arthur couldn't understand. He had no explanation, for instance, for Merlin's quiet confidence as they rode out to battle, to face an army that was larger than theirs – though not as well equipped or as loyal to its king. Merlin's cheerfulness now made no more sense than the casual way he'd declared "that's enough" at their first meeting or the way he'd insisted on going with Arthur to face the dragon after their last hope of controlling it was lost.
There was no actual wall at the edge of the kingdom, or even a stream or a mountain ridge to mark it definitively, but Arthur had ridden out on patrols often enough to know the land and its borders well. He recognised flag posts that he'd set himself. Apart from that, of course, there was the foreign army camped just beyond them, marking the line by the way they stood poised to cross it.
The borders had been settled on along with the terms of peace, promises on each side that they would not be crossed with violence. Arthur hadn't had much to do with hammering out the details, but he'd been present, had exchanged small talk, toasts, and ceremonials gifts with Bayard and the men of his household. He'd known all along that he couldn't actually trust them, that if Camelot ever showed weakness their carefully negotiated agreements would be discarded like bones after a feast.
Still, it angered him to see them here. He thought of Merlin saying it was good Arthur had a chance to mourn for his father, and he wanted to scream at Bayard for denying him that chance. Instead he shouted, "You can go back now without betraying our agreements. Turn around, return to your own lands, and this unprovoked attack against a peaceful neighbour will be forgiven."
"Camelot has never been a peaceful neighbour," Bayard answered, and even calling across a field his voice was cynical, patronising. There was no real anger here – he was only taking advantage of a situation that suited him. "You have mistrusted us, accusing us of treachery at every turn, even when the threat to your kingdom came from another direction entirely. You offer to forgive us, but as yet we have not broken the treaty you forced upon us. For too many years we have lived in uncertainty, never knowing when you might attack. This time, we move first."
"Camelot has a new ruler," said Arthur, remembering Gwen's speech to the townspeople. "Can we not put aside past grievances and begin again as friends?"
Bayard refused, as Arthur knew he would. It had seemed right to try nevertheless. Arthur's knights led the charge and he rode with them into the fray. For a long time it was hard to make any sense of what was happening. He could only fight whoever was attacking him in that moment, could barely hear through the shouts or see through the flashing of swords, the blood and mud that splattered on his helmet and even got in his eyes. He lost the sense of where the border was, but he guessed there was fighting on both sides of it. He lost track of Merlin (who shouldn't even be here, who should at least have stood off to the side as he did during practices), and he'd see Kay or Leon in one moment only to lose them in the next. But after a while he was able to build up a picture from the glimpses he caught, looking around between one fight and the next or riding over a rise in the land. He knew that King Bayard himself was not fighting. He was mounted on horseback with his knights surrounded him so he would not be at risk while he called out his orders.
It was only the prudent thing to do. Arthur's own father, in no way a coward, had often remained inside a battle tent or even back at the castle while his armies fought for him. His life was worth more than a soldier's, he'd explained, and its loss would mean chaos and almost certain defeat for the whole kingdom. Still, it wasn't in Arthur to let another man risk his life while he stayed out of harm's way. He felt contempt toward Bayard but knew it would make no sense to attack him when he was so well protected. Anyhow, much of the Mercian army was beyond the reach of the king's voice. They weren't following him but rather two swordsmen who went on foot. The men dressed in black armour that showed not even a patch of skin, and still somehow both seemed familiar to Arthur. Perhaps it was their movements, their way of walking, their skill with the blade. It would be dangerous to fight one of them, but if they could be defeated…
"The men in black," Arthur said to Gawain, who was at his side then, and who nodded in understanding and started moving toward the farther one even as Arthur was explaining, "take them out and the battle will be ours."
Only Arthur and Gawain never had time to reach the dark knights, because at that moment something changed. Arthur heard a great whooshing noise and felt a gust of wind like having the breath knocked out of him. He looked up to see an enormous winged beast blocking out the light of the sun.
"Oh no," Arthur said, aloud but quiet enough no one would hear him over the noise of the battle and now the dragon's wings. "No, it can't be."
Arthur wasn't trembling, but he knew some of his knights were. No one could forget the damage the dragon had done when it attacked the castle, the men it had dropped from the battlements or set ablaze with its breath.
He wasn't really surprised to notice that Merlin was standing beside him again. Merlin had always had that knack for appearing at the strangest moments. "You told me I'd killed it," Arthur shouted. "Why did you – why do I ever believe you?"
But Merlin didn't answer, didn't seem to be listening to Arthur at all. He was staring at the dragon – which was understandable, except that his eyes had gone blank somehow, and his whole face and bearing took on a look Arthur had never seen on him before. He was standing on the ground so that Arthur looked down on him from his horse, and yet without growing in size Merlin was suddenly larger and more frightening than the dragon or the whole of Mercia's army.
Both armies had gone still, staring like Arthur at the wizard and the dragon, and when Merlin opened his mouth to speak it seemed to Arthur that he wasn't even hearing him, that he perceived the voice with some other sense he hadn't even had before, and he couldn't understand a word but he felt the threat and the violence shaking his bones.
When the dragon roared back Arthur felt it the same way, as rage and defiance and pain so deep that his ears couldn't even start to take it in. And, all right, that was one thing coming from a dragon, but Merlin?
Merlin raised his voice again and this time he also raised his sword, and when light shot out from his hand and his eyes it was the same way, too bright for Arthur to see with his eyes but too vivid to ignore, and when the bolt of light struck the dragon faltered, screaming even higher and deeper than before. It flapped its wings clumsily and started to drop out of the sky, and in Arthur's memory he heard Merlin telling him, "You dealt him a mortal blow."
Merlin, his manservant, the last of the Dragonlords, lying to him then as he'd been lying all along.
The Mercian soldiers scrambled out of the way as the great dragon's body crashed to the ground, and Merlin turned to look up at Arthur, his eyes wet with tears.
"I told you," he said, "you never know when you might need me."
The fighting had stopped, and across the battlefield Morgana watched Morgause watching Arthur. She didn't feel sorrow or satisfaction over the dragon's death, even though she knew now that he'd been the one to turn Merlin against her during her last months in the castle. She didn't feel anger toward Merlin now either, only anticipation. She oughtn't leave her position at the head of this column, but she was too far away, she couldn't stand it. She needed to see whether that really was a smile on Merlin's face, and she wanted badly to hear what he was saying to Arthur. She crossed the field until she stood near Morgause, perhaps forty yards from Arthur and Merlin.
"Don't judge Arthur too harshly," Morgana said quietly. "As far as he's concerned, he's just been humiliated. His army and the enemy have just seen how little he knows of his own household, that his most trusted servant could turn out to be what his father most despised."
"And to think," said Morgause, "he still doesn't know about you."
They watched Merlin kneel and lay his sword on the ground while Arthur dismounted from his horse, still holding his sword in his hand.
"Beheading was one of Uther's punishments for treason," said Morgause.
"You won't intervene? Even – if you'd let me speak to him. Arthur always listened to me, even when he pretended not to. I know I could convince him…"
Morgause shook her head. "For one who was faithful to the Old Religion, I might, but Merlin, for all he is blessed with great power, has never been one of ours. He's only the test. Arthur told Bayard he wanted to forget old grudges and begin anew. If he punishes the boy for using magic, we'll know whether he's still our enemy, and we'll act accordingly."
With her heart in her mouth and a restless army at her back, Morgana watched as Arthur touched the flat of his sword to Merlin's shoulders. Then he held out a hand to pull Merlin up to stand, and the two men embraced.
That was the sign they needed, and watching her two dear friends together, Morgana couldn't stand to be apart from them any more. She didn't need to convince Morgause of anything more, for Arthur's intentions were clear. Both women took off their helmets, loosing their long hair and grinning at each other in understanding – the battle was over, and some men had fallen, no side had lost. The Mercians soldiers gasped and some shouted in surprise, but Morgana knew they'd listen to the knight who had led them, never mind what she looked like. She let Morgause turn to speak to Bayard and the army, and she ran ahead across the open space to meet Arthur and Merlin.
Morgause would be saying something like, This king has on his side enough magic to defeat a dragon. He is not his father, and he is not an enemy we can afford to fight, nor one we should want to. The soldiers would be nodding their heads while Bayard sputtered that he would be the one to make such decisions, not some woman who'd infiltrated his army and had no authority here. But Morgana couldn't hear much over the clang of her armour and the pounding of her heart, and as she got closer there was the joyous shout of Arthur calling her name.
He was all jagged angles of armour and so was she, but she didn't care. She'd loved him like a brother for half her life, and being torn apart from him had been like losing her father all over again. She needed to wrap her arms around him, and she did.
"Morgana, I thought you were – I would have tried to kill you."
She shook her head, squeezing him as hard as she could. "You couldn't have beaten us," she said, "but it doesn't matter now. Everything's going to be different from now on."
"All right, all right," said Arthur, pulling away, "but Merlin's a sorcerer and we've still got Mercia –"
"No." She turned around to face what she knew was coming, Bayard riding up to meet them. His face looked dejected, but he would be offering them peace. Morgana took Arthur and Merlin's hands in hers. "Merlin's a sorcerer, and so is Morgause and so am I. We're on your side, King Arthur, and you're on ours. Gwen's waiting for us at Camelot, and I'm ready to go home."