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Chapter Text

Prologue

The triple goddess speaks…..

Conflict consumes Britannia. Raiders rove across the landscape. Villages burn. Suffering is the theme. Fear for their safety paralyzes my magical servants. Anger and Vengeance blind Morgana Pendragon. Prejudice and Ignorance turn Arthur Pendragon against my path. He languishes in his own dungeon. Fate claims its prey. Three kingdoms’ thrones lie in uncertain hands. One cannot tell where it can go.

Hope however has allies in its quest. Percival of Riversmore fills the Mercian void. Malodius the Lion and his dragon allies assure their mortal counterparts. The few Camelot refugees, Nemethians and Mercians collaborate for the Common Good. My priestesses, Freya and Ninane, balance their needs with my goals. Mithian of Nemeth, despite bouts of impulsiveness, stabilizes the coalition. The young Princess rises to the occasion. Best yet, she spurs Emrys out of Comfort’s space.

Change is in the air. With the siege to come, it will be something to behold….

Chapter Text

Chapter 1 [Whitgate—Royal Palace]

Traffic bustled through Nemeth’s capital on that morning. Merchants traded on the cobbled square. Tradesmen labored over their crafts. Metallic clanging echoed forth from blacksmiths’ forges. Nobles rode their horses around the walled city for their own purposes.

Nature cooperated with all of this. Sol shone down on the scene unabated by the broken clouds. A light breeze billowed pennants and flags atop the palace and citadel. The chill didn’t seem so bad to the passersby. The slightest bit of warmth hinted at a promising afternoon.

But first, a bit of business loomed…..

****

A Southron soldier galloped across the drawbridge and into the Lower Town. His progress momentarily scattered the Nemethians in his wake. His eyes narrowed glinting dark brown in the morning light. His rouge robes flapped about in the breeze. He beckoned his steed ever faster up the cobbles and through the gate into the Upper Town. He never looked left or right. He didn’t slow down for anyone or anything.

Delay held no meaning for Camelot’s new Queen or her consort for that matter…..

Finally in front of the main palace, the soldier pulled up the reins. He quickly dismounted and tied the horse’s rein to a hitching post nearby. His hands undid the saddle bag’s buckle. He pulled a sealed scroll from that place and hefted it. Purpose shifted his sights on the massive oaken doors at the top of the granite stairs.

Two emerald clad knights flanking that door watched the newcomer. Caution urged them on in this regard. After exchanging looks between each other, the burly one on the left descended the stairs. “Good morrow, Friend. State your business.”

“If it is so, I fear it will not be so for you. I have business with your King. Guide me to him or step aside,” the emissary replied.

“And what be the nature of said business? Identify yourself. We have reason to be wary of your people,’ the other Nemeth knight answered back. His hand firmly rested on his sword’s scabbard.

“Peace, Sir Oswald! There is no need to incite conflict between us. I have but posed a question. It is for our guest to divulge the purpose of his embassy,” the first knight reminded his comrade. Then his gaze turned back to the Southron. “I’d counsel you in the same manner, Friend. Is it a message you seek to deliver?”

“Aye. The meat of it is for King Rodor. Queen Morgana of Camelot sends me with speed and urgency. My patience wears thin. Will you guide me to your King or do I have to carve myself a way?” the soldier clarified. Impatience stabbed into the guards’ ears through his tone.

The guard looked to Oswald again. Then he let out his exasperation in a labored breath. “King Rodor would not want us turning away an emissary. Watch the door, Sir Oswald.”

“I shall. Take care with this one,” Oswald concurred. He met the Southron’s eyes with his own narrowed glance. He set his feet and jaw.

“Be fortunate I can’t allow my blade to take care of you,” the Southron retorted. He stalked into the castle after his guide and toward the throne room.

Oswald shook his head. Ill at Ease nagged at his heart. I don’t trust him!

****

[Rodor’s Throne Room—A Quarter Turn of the Hourglass Earlier]

Rodor paced about the throne chamber. He wondered about Mithian’s progress as well as those of the knights. No word had reached the court concerning the expedition’s fortunes. As he had many times over the previous fortnight, he looked out the window toward the east. He wondered what his daughter and the knights had encountered. He hoped that their allies in Camelot had survived Morgana’s siege. Certainly Mithian will not just charge into a situation this time. I trust my advice will give her reason for pause. If not, Sir Galahad will advise her otherwise. And perhaps this servant of Arthur’s will if nothing else does. He frowned. After all of the suitors, she would want this one? He sipped from a goblet of wine.

Merlin had certainly done his share where Nemeth was concerned. Mithian had gushed (uncharacteristically so) about his manner and conscientiousness. Even as he’d given her a chilly reception at the beginning, loyalty to his friend, Guinevere, had been the cause. He’d given Mithian respect and then friendship. He’d returned the precious heirloom. He’d saved Mithian’s life and endured the near loss of everything as a result. Word had gotten back to Whitgate that Merlin had spirited Arthur away before Camelot fell. Guinevere, Galahad and Blancheflor had added their own support to the young man’s character. To the first time observer, he could be seen as Arthur’s unofficial chief advisor and protector.

And yet…yet…Arthur hadn’t ennobled or knighted Merlin. That point prompted the question of why. Why hadn’t Arthur done so?

Certainly this boy deserves better. He’s done more than the three deeds necessary if Mithian’s correct. He’s done two for us. Is there something we don’t know? Rodor rubbed his chin. He felt almost stuck between two sides of a coin. He wanted to insure that Merlin was as good as everyone said. Not that he doubted it, mind you. He just wanted to see for himself. On the other hand, he had never seen Mithian so taken with any man. He’d heard so many good things that he wanted to believe them. He hoped Merlin actually lived up to everyone’s reports on him. One more deed for Nemeth. Then Mithian and I can go to Arthur. That is if they survive this crisis.

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.

“Yes?” Rodor turned to see the guard knight standing at the door. “Sir Stephen, what news?”

Stephen bowed before his ruler. “Your Majesty. There is an embassy from Camelot. He claims to represent a Queen Morgana?”

Rodor’s heart sank. He arched an eyebrow. “I would see this man. Please stay if you would?”

“Aye, Sire.” Stephen bowed. Then he ducked into the hall. He told the soldier. “King Rodor will see you.”

The Southron frowned under his mask. He brushed past his guide and into the throne room. He stalked up to Rodor. Offering the most curt of bows, his eyes burned into the monarch’s. “King Rodor, I speak for Queen Morgana of Camelot.”

“Queen Morgana? This is a most curious thing.” Rodor stifled a frown. “Arthur rules there.”

“Arthur usurped the throne. He mistreated his subjects. He did wrong by your own Princess. He and his father wrongly deny and heap abuses on magical peoples and beings. Queen Morgana will return order. She wants Nemeth to cease and desist,” the soldier reported.

“Cease and desist?” Rodor frowned. “What have we done to Camelot?”

“Princess Mithian and your knights trespassed across Camelot and into Essetir without leave. The Queen witnessed how they interfered in the village of Ealdor in King Cedric’s territory. They are to cease such efforts,” the soldier clarified.

“Princess Mithian knows better than to provoke an armed confrontation,” Rodor disagreed. “Was the abdication voluntary or forced?”

“Abdication?” The soldier scoffed. “The Queen captured him and reclaimed her rightful crown. He and the maid, Guinevere, are back in Camelot with the other traitors.”

“I see.” Rodor sipped on his goblet. He sized up the situation. Morgana took Camelot. Arthur fled no doubt with his servant’s help. Mithian gave assistance but it’s seen otherwise. Why however were they in Essetir? That’s Cedric’s territory. They certainly had no time to send word or seek permission to cross his lands. Galahad, I told you to advise Mithian of such things! Now Morgana has Arthur in her grasp. “I wish I could tell you more, Sir Knight. Of the abdication, Morgana cannot seize the throne without due process. Invasion in its own right doesn’t justify that.”

“I would say the same of the Pendragon,” the soldier retorted. “With Gedref, you certainly got your fill. Did you not?”

Fury blazed in Rodor’s eye. He ground his teeth. “As you pointed out, Princess Mithian went through due distress. Arthur relinquished Camelot’s claim to said territory in recompense. We move beyond such things. If you would bear a message to the Lady Morgana, please advise her to let go of her hate. We would be most willing to negotiate with her. Our good will in that regard however is tied to one condition. King Arthur and Guinevere will not be harmed. The Knights of Camelot will not be harmed. A good ruler does not act in such ways.”

“Queen Morgana will deal with Arthur and the other traitors as she deems fit for Camelot’s security, King Rodor.” The soldier cleared his throat. He handed Rodor the scroll. “As per my instructions, here are her terms.”

Rodor received the scroll. He opened it and read it over. “I will need to speak with my advisors. Meantime I would remind you, Sir Knight, of something. You do not address a monarch in his or her throne room in the manner you are currently doing. Brashness and Insolence ill fit a diplomat. Princess Mithian would never barge into another kingdom save for an emergency. She would reach a peaceful resolution with that ruler, I assure you. If any messenger of mine acted as you are now, I would rebuke them severely for it. Your leader, Helios, should instruct you on how to act in these settings. Please tell your lord and lady I will respond as I may to this embassy. As a token of good will, you should get yourself some food and quench your thirst. It is a long ride back to Camelot.”

The Southron to his credit stifled a rebuke. “I do not require such things. The Queen will hear of this.” He nodded and turned his back on Rodor. He stormed from the room and toward the stairs.

Rodor sipped further from his goblet. He imagined that Mithian was trying to help in her own way. Still he wondered what else was going on. “We cannot afford a war.” His eyes spied the Southron rushing from the palace and toward the stables. Within a few heartbeats, he saw the soldier galloping toward the drawbridge and the forest beyond.

War’s storm clouds gathered in the east. Trouble loomed. Question is when and in what form it would come…..

Chapter Text

Chapter 2 [Camelot]

Within the city, the populace moved warily. Paranoia added pace to their steps. Silence hung like the humidity on a summer’s evening. Their eyes darted in any direction save toward the citadel. They simply hustled through their affairs and rushed back toward the countryside.

Such was the energy coming off of the citadel at that point….

****

[Throne Room]

Morgana reclined on her throne. She savored the feel of it against her back and legs. Satisfaction glittered in her eyes. A smirk dominated her features. She surveyed the area.

Before her, the court huddled on bended knee. Elderly courtiers, mercenaries and Southron soldiers all did so together. They awaited her command not wanting to deal with her wrath or a spell for that matter. Rebellion stayed still at the moment. Survival motivated them in its stead.

Helios leaned against the dais. He’d offered her a respectful nod and left it at that. His eyes took in the audience noting if anyone seemed out of line or otherwise. Otherwise his posture seemed somewhere between relaxed and stiff to say the least. “Is it time, Milady?”

“It is indeed.” She rubbed her hands together. Her smirk only grew in width. Her eyes sparkled brighter akin to a child’s on Solstice with gifts galore. “Do bring in the entertainment.”

Helios motioned to the soldiers flanking the door. Satisfaction glinted in his eyes as well. He would not take from her moment.

The doors opened allowing four soldiers to march into the room. In their midst, Arthur and Gwen kept pace. Their hands remained bound behind their backs. Rough hands continuously shoved them forward. Still they fought to maintain Dignity’s standard. Despite the issues between them, they would not give Morgana anything. Their eyes remained locked straight ahead. Formality and Strength locked each step in tune with an inner drummer. Even a heartbeat-long stumble did not long sway the pace.

Morgana expected no less frankly. She sniffed at the display. “Welcome back, Dear Brother. Now that you’re where you should be, it is better for all.”
Arthur coughed. His blue eyes burned into hers. “I belong up there. You have no right to the throne! None! I…”

Helios backhanded him. “You are beaten, Boy! Look at you! You are bound and taken in the woods from battle. You dressed as a woman to avoid battle.” With effort, he forced Arthur to his knees. “Be grateful. I would kill you.”

Scorn burned in the Young Pendragon’s eyes. “Brave words considering my hands are tied, Helios. Try me and see.”

“Do not give him such opportunities, Helios,” Morgana advised. “Arthur will die soon enough. In the meantime, his appearance and demeanor suit him rather well.” She turned to Gwen. “And you, Gwen, I would have given you a place at court if I could trust you.”

Gwen looked briefly toward Arthur. Despite Rejection’s slow burn within her heart, Love and Fidelity still burned within her. “I know my place, Morgana. You took everything from me.” Sorrow’s tears welled up in her eyes. “Even if someone refuses to understand that it was your doing not mine!”

Morgana coughed. Pride elicited a chuckle from her lips. “Arthur, despite knowing you as well as I do, your stupidity continues to amaze me. I played you! I played the rest of these fools! Only your stupid servant understood. Pity that Mithian has such an attitude and a mouth to match. She would have made a useful tool.”

“Perhaps her insight prevents that,” Gwen insisted. “She surprised me.”

Morgana squinted at her former maid. Surprise lessened her glare’s focus but only slightly. “Did she now? I suppose there are always miracles that can happen. The girl has a brain although Rashness does numb it. In truth, her siege enabled us to enter here. I suppose I should thank her for that. Most curious.”

“She wanted justice to be done, Morgana. No more, no less,” Arthur reminded her.

“Yes…justice.” Morgana yanked Arthur head back hard by his hair. “It seemed Agravaine did my will as well as could be managed. You speak of such things as justice and loyalty when and as it suits you. I suppose our father taught you that? You would never do justice by me. Even those who tried to love you are spurned. Poor Mithian…she was rejected and humiliated. And Gwen? Her heartache is plain for all to see. Even your most loyal lapdog, Merlin, would have gone to the block for your ego! Now you can deal with that in the square outside.” She grinned. Glee lit up in her eyes. “Helios?”

“Yes?” her second in command replied.

“Escort the former King to the square. Tie him to the scaffold in preparation. I want to do it myself,” Morgana ordered. “I’ll take that insolence out of you, Arthur. And to keep you in line…” She touched Gwen’s forehead. Her eyes glinted yellow. “Cadal!”

Gwen resisted. She fought against the sleeping spell. She strained to keep her eyes open. She ground her teeth. She bit the insides of her cheeks. Still the magical tide overwhelmed her. She collapsed to the granite underneath. Sleep held her fast in its grip.

Arthur tensed. Despite his continuing stance against her and the betrayal, Panic yanked at him. His jaw slackened. Fear glinted in his eyes.

“Now you have no choice but to be a good boy for my entertainment,” Morgana crowed. She stooped over Gwen’s slumbering form. Her fingers tussled with the other woman’s mussed dark tresses. “She’s stronger than you could ever be, Arthur. Pity you will never know that. I….”

At that moment, the torches flickered and dimmed. A candelabra fell to the floor and shattered against the floor. The doors slammed open echoing against the walls.

Emrys limped into the chamber. Indignation and Age stiffened his steps. He sniffed at the cringing crowd. The end of his staff tapped against the floor. His mouth twisted into a sharp frown. “You never learn! I can be anywhere!”

Morgana trembled. Her eyes went wide. “HOW? WHAT? EMRYS!!!”

“As if I care? You can’t ever stop me.” Emrys’ eyes glowed yellow. He extended his hands.

From still air, a sudden breeze rustled through the chamber. It cooled and soothed….that is before it increased to a howling gale. It shoved the other witnesses against the walls. It threw Morgana back into her throne. It stunned Helios.

Emrys smirked. He considered the prone ex-ruler. “The dress suits you.”

Arthur shuddered. Rage and Vengeance flared within his heart. “You killed my father! I will see you burn!”

“She set me up, you Prat! You’re the idiot. Too bad. It would be entertainin’ to see you like this!” Emrys snorted. “And the little witch can’t stop me! Can never stop me!” He grinned at Morgana. “And she wishes she could!!”

“You! YOU!!!” Morgana hissed. She pointed her hand. Her eyes took on the palest shade of yellow. The spell began to build inside of herself.

…that is until Emrys flicked her into unconsciousness with a single motion of his hand….

“Think what I can do, Little Witch. Heheehehe….some Queen….Like the Buffoon you are!” Emrys shook his head. “Think what you want if you have a brain! RESPECT! WHATEVER! IDIOT!” He snorted. For a heartbeat, his eyes lingered on Morgana. Then he glared at Arthur. Finally he vanished into thin air leaving no trace of himself behind.

Arthur yanked at the ropes. To his surprise, his hands pulled free. He frowned. What is that wizard’s gambit? He cannot be trusted. Still I have a chance! His mind puzzled through every possibility. He wondered about his knights. He looked toward the sleeping Gwen. He picked her up in his arms and carried her out.

Hated or not, the wizard had given him his opening. Now he’d see what to do next….

Chapter Text

Chapter 3 [Woods—Twenty Leagues Inside of the Camelot Border]

The storm gray obscured the sky’s pleasant blue color on that morning. Unseasonable Chill whistled through the trees. Branches swayed and some snapped off. Animals scurried for whatever cover they could manage. Plants and flowers drooped in this assault.

Such as the elements told, a story could drag on for those involved with it…..

****

Gawain paced about the camp. Sleep had eluded him on the previous two nights. His reddened eyes sagged. Drowsiness weighed on his limbs. He moved with efforted steps. His hand slowly collected a few pieces of wood here and there.

While the effort killed him, being bloody freezing was a mite worse…Then again listening to a certain woman’s harping might’ve made the cold bearable…..

Might be preferable….I’d need a tankard of mead to drink that one down on….

He staggered back into camp. A few campfires smoldered within their stoned circles. He noted that the knights and hangers-on rubbed their hands and held them for warmth over the struggling flames. His nostrils picked up on the aroma of cooking game on spits. Sparks flew from sharpening blades. He smirked and stuck a few sticks into the flames. Then with a curt nod, he moved on. From fire to fire, he repeated his motion. He busied himself to forget…to forget his tired inability to sleep, the annoying red head and his friend that he thought he knew….

…His friend? Yeah that one….Merlin, Camelot’s most loyal servant, Arthur’s tailbone, best friend in a skirmish. That one was a lot of things…and something else he didn’t share with others.

A bloody warlock? Are you kidding me? He scratched his head. His head hurt from the questioning. Doubt pounded at his temples. He does what he does when he could just wave his hand? Poof! Everythin’s done! All of the times cookin’ and stuff? It makes no sense! His eyes toward where said servant napped. His eyebrow arched. Merlin napping now? What in blazes?

“Strange, isn’t it?” Percival asked. He approached slowly. “All of those times we were around him. Yet we didn’t think a thing of it.” He looked to Gawain. “You didn’t suspect?”

“Nope. Guess I should’ve thought something. Weird stuff kept coming up. He and I got out of a few tavern brawls due to that. Then there was the fire in the slavers’ pit. But a whole stinking armored patrol by himself? And with a flick of his hand? Really?” Gawain sniffed and shook his head.

“We all have secrets, Gawain. I don’t talk about my past for a reason. I kept Blancheflor safe. I focused on Camelot. Now I have Mercia to think about. I pray Arthur will not make an issue of my departure from service,” Percival assessed. “As you are the rightful heir to Cawdor’s throne.”

Gawain didn’t react at least not outwardly. “Being around Blanche is messin’ with you, Percy. I ain’t….”

Percival exhaled. “Gawain, it’s all right. I’ve known since we’ve met. You’re Robert d’ Arbourne’s son. He died at the Battle of Rogerness. You were exiled along with your mother. Meleagant supported your former lord, William of North Castle. In turn, your family was disinherited. Anger and Vengeance burn for that.” He shrugged. “We all have secrets.”

“You knew? And you didn’t say nothing?” Gawain asked. Disbelief and Wonder paled his face.

“That was your secret to come out with.” Percival scratched his head. “We all have roles to grow into. We were knights. Now I have a greater role as Mercia’s King. You have to decide your next place be it Camelot, Nemeth or Cawdor.” He motioned toward the prone Merlin. “Now so does he.”

“Merlin? What’s he got to think about? He can just poof it into the world! He’s got nothing to worry about,” Gawain presumed.

Percival coughed. “You think so? Perhaps I should have Britomart berate some sense into your head?”

“That’s a low blow, Percy. Talk about a handful. Too bad Merlin doesn’t have….” Gawain started.

“See? You keep Merlin’s secrets better than you know,” Percival complimented. “Merlin plays his role as Arthur’s servant. I suspected he was hiding something. Still since he served the King well and more than did his role bravely, I’ve allowed him his space. Merlin, as with us, has a role to step into. He is now eligible for knighthood and noble status in Camelot, Nemeth or Mercia. Princess Mithian has proposed a match to him. And then there’s the other matter.” He leaned close and whispered, “You just figured out he’s a sorcerer?”

Gawain stared dumbfounded. “Wait! You knew?” He blinked. “You bloody knew??”

Percival grimaced. “Will you keep it down?” He looked around to make sure they weren’t being overheard. “This is still secret, Gawain. Mithian shared what happened to you all south of Ealdor. Ywain and Galahad reported on finding my knights scattered like flotsam before a storm. I imagined it was something like that. We all stand at a crossroads. We all have decisions to make. We can all support each other.”

“Yeah well. I can’t see ol’ Merlin stayin’ for either Morgana or the Princess. Both’ll burn him for his threat to them. Gripe, gripe, gripe! Now Mith’? She’s the real deal for Merlin. His Mom likes her. She cares about him and accepts him for what he is. He’d get the chance to be…well…Merlin. Now if he finally gets to have some fun, I’ll believe that when I see it.”

Percival frowned. “Merlin can’t afford what you’d teach him. He needs our support. His is the heaviest burden. He can’t hide for much longer in his servant role.”

“Try tellin’ that to Gaius or the Princess. They’ll kick you back out on your arse!” Gawain doubted.

“Merlin wants to make everyone happy. He has to do more. All of us need to,” Percival noted. “Now you need something to eat.”

“Lemme guess. She sent you. Didn’t she?” Gawain rolled his eyes. “She ain’t my girl, Percy.”

Percival stifled his response to that comment. “She cares, Gawain. You can’t carouse, drink and wench forever.”

“I can try,” Gawain muttered. He stewed. The last thing he wanted was constant nagging and harping. His inner kid wanted to run around and have fun. He didn’t want to deal with the world. Frankly it sucked and hurt too much to say the least….

“Let’s go. It’ll do you good,” Percival informed him. He led his friend toward a campfire on the area’s other side.

Gawain relented. At least Percy’s still Percy. That ain’t changed!

Chapter Text

Chapter 4

Mithian sighed heavily. She looked around at the campsite. She marveled at how former rivals and adversaries could collaborate as well as they all were doing Frankly she’d expected more arguments and crass words to say the least. Her own courtiers engaged in meditation or prepared for the inevitable confrontation with Morgana. Gawain and Percival seemed to blend in with her subjects. In that, it was a relief.

Still, she recalled an observation from an ancient Greek chronicle. She remembered the bard advising her readers to be aware of all on the battlefield. To listen. To hear the sounds within the sounds.

I never knew what that meant before now. I guess that warrior knew of what she spoke of. Mithian surveyed her surroundings again. To the naked eye, everything seemed all right. Still Instinct hinted otherwise. Her mind buzzed for some reason. What’s going on? She shifted her gaze toward Merlin.

The Warlock reclined against a tree. His eyes were closed. His breathing passed in and out. All seemed calm and serene as if he caught up on much needed rest. At least to the naked eye again, that’s what it appeared to be.

She raised an eyebrow at that. He never sleeps in the middle of the day! She focused on the Link and probed deeper still. A bright white flash of light knocked her off of her feet. She shook her head trying to in effect reset her senses. Numbness slowly and only begrudgingly retreated. She hissed to herself. Her fingers dug grooves into the damp earth. “What is this? What the….?” Then she felt a rush and her eyes snapped open at the unfolding scene.

Morgana trembled. Her eyes went wide. “HOW? WHAT? EMRYS!!!”

“As if I care? You can’t ever stop me.” Emrys’ eyes glowed yellow. He extended his hands.

From still air, a sudden breeze rustled through the chamber. It cooled and soothed….that is before it increased to a howling gale. It shoved the other witnesses against the walls. It threw Morgana back into her throne. It stunned Helios.

Emrys smirked. He considered the prone ex-ruler. “The dress suits you.” He motioned with the staff toward Arthur’s rear end. “See wha’ yer brain fartin’ gets ya? Moron!”

Arthur shuddered. Rage and Vengeance flared within his heart. “You killed my father! I will see you burn!”

“She set me up, you Prat! You’re the idiot. Too bad. It would be entertainin’ to see you like this!” Emrys snorted. “And the little witch can’t stop me! Can never stop me!” He grinned at Morgana. “And she wishes she could!!”

“You! YOU!!!” Morgana hissed. She pointed her hand. Her eyes took on the palest shade of yellow. The spell began to build inside of herself.

…that is until Emrys flicked her into unconsciousness with a single motion of his hand….

“Think what I can do, Little Witch. Heheehehe….some Queen….Like the Buffoon you are!” Emrys shook his head. “Think what you want if you have a brain! RESPECT! WHATEVER! IDIOT!” He snorted. For a heartbeat, his eyes lingered on Morgana. Then he glared at Arthur. Finally he vanished into thin air leaving no trace of himself behind.

Mithian ground her teeth. Merlin, how could you be so STUPID? This is one time Arthur would be right to call you an idiot! She rubbed her temples to assuage the pounding therein. As if we didn’t have enough problems! She walked over to him. With each step, she breathed in and out trying to calm herself.

Just before she got to him, Merlin stretched and opened his eyes. He smirked basking in Triumph’s glow over his victory against Morgana. That’ll make her think twice. Hopefully Arthur finds out that I weakened the ropes around his hands.

“Feeling good about yourself? Are we? ” she supposed. The eyebrow arched several inches. Her mouth twisted into a frown. She folded her arms across her chest.

“I’m rested. I needed the nap and….” He stopped his story in mid-sentence. He clearly felt her icy displeasure toward him. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong you ask? Why ever would that be anything wrong?” Her eyes blazed with Anger’s fire. You stirred up a hornets’ nest! THAT’S WHAT! Merlin, what were you thinking?? Didn’t you think I’d pick up on your ambush of Morgana? Why didn’t you talk to me about it first?

I did what I have to do! At least Morgana and everyone else are stunned. Arthur’s untied. He and Gwen are out of there, he pointed out.

Out of where? The room? The castle? Merlin! THINK! They’re still in the castle! There are guards other than in the throne room! You know that! She sucked in a deep breath. It was a good idea. I’ll grant you. But what happens if he’s caught again? The knights are still imprisoned in the dungeon! How will he get out of the castle? Did you think of these things?

Arthur knows the castle better than anyone. He’ll figure it out, he argued.

Maybe but Morgana knows him too. You should have come to me first. We could have planned a proper assault. We could have STRATEGY! Now Arthur risks being recaptured. Please, Merlin. I know you’re not used to people knowing about you. Well now, you aren’t alone anymore. You have people who will help you… she continued.

Beings you mean, Your Highness, Malodius chimed in. Forgive me. I couldn’t help but overhear. Perhaps we should speak on strategy with your leave?

That would be a most prudent move indeed, she concurred. We shall speak within the hour. I need to collect my thoughts first. She glanced toward Merlin again. Then she stalked away.

Merlin blinked. What’s wrong? I did what I’m supposed to do! I stopped Morgana from torturing Arthur and Gwen! What is her problem? He rolled his eyes. They think it’s easy?

The point, Young One, isn’t of ease. It is of cooperation, Malodius insisted. I realize that Gaius and Kilgarrah taught you to work in clandestine ways. While you should take care, you also should work with others. We can help you. Now the Witch knows you’re out here. She will hunt you down. Through you, she could find us. Remember the Witch Finder? She could manipulate such a one against you.

Merlin slumped against the tree. His eyes went straight to the sky seeking Inspiration’s grace.

The goddess allows us to find our own answers, Merlin. Such is the grace and burden of free will, I fear, Malodius declared. Bring ideas with you to our discussion. In the meantime, consider what we all learned from this. Perhaps there can be a silver lining? Just a thought. With that, the lion went silent.

Silver lining? I try to help and make everyone mad at me. Terrific! Merlin glanced in the direction where his Princess had stalked off toward.

Some days it just didn’t pay to get off the bed roll…..

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

Gaius rubbed his hands over the fire. He flexed his fingers trying to ease Arthritis’ stiffness from them. He’d seen more knights’ wounds over the previous two days than he might have liked.

Perhaps in protest of the passing time, Hunger growled at him.

He glanced down at the wrapped bundle sitting by his side. Still haven’t touched that bread from this morning. He raised a bleached water skin to his lips and eased a mouthful of water past his lips and down his parched throat. He opened the bundle to reveal a chunk of dry grain bread. I wish Merlin would have taken some of this. He bit into the bread. Speaking of him, where is he? I know he’s around here some place. He frowned. I really could use his help with tending to the knights. I wish Mithian wouldn’t involve him in matters that don’t concern him. He shouldn’t be actively seeking out trouble. He swallowed offering sustenance to quell Hunger’s fire.

Ywain tapped him on the arm. “Master Gaius? Would you care for some?” He motioned to a branch turned skewer. On it, a bird of some kind roasted on the fire.

“I have nothing to offer you, Sir Ywain. That is most kind of you to offer though,” Gaius declined.

“You’ve treated the Princess and our King at various points. Besides we are all in this together, my Friend,” Ywain assured him. He examined the cooking meal. Then he carved a leg and a goodly part of the hind quarter from it with his dagger. “Please eat.” He held the meat out.

“I appreciate this. Thank you,” Gaius accepted. Surprise and Gratitude lit his eyes.

“You’re welcome. These woods are hard enough to endure without good food. The goddess saw fit to provide me with this meal. Why should I not share?” Ywain assured him.

Gaius broke the bread in half. “In that case, this bread would go well with it.”

“Indeed it will! It makes the bird easier to hold. Thank you. You see? You do offer plenty, Master Gaius. Do not be so hard on yourself,” Ywain insisted. He set his meat between two hunks of the bread. He took a bite and nodded. “You might have something here.”

“It does make it easier to eat. I must admit.” Gaius bit into the meal. His mouth watered from its treat. His stomach eased in its begging ever so slightly. “Does the lion hunt for you?”

“Malodius you mean.” Ywain bit into his meal again. “He does sometimes. He is not my servant or pet. If he finds something, generally he will share with me. I share with him much as I did with you.” He took a mouthful from his water skin to wash that idea down. “He’s served Nemeth for two generations at least. I wish he could speak. There’s so much I’m sure he could say.”

Gaius almost let the lion’s secret slip. Remembering what Merlin had said before, he kept it to himself. “I’m sure he would. From what Merlin has said, his father knew Malodius.”

“Truly? I wonder how that came to pass?” Ywain asked. Interest perked itself in his voice. “Given Lady Hunith’s humble standing, I wonder who that might be?”

“Merlin only met him once prior to his death. His name was Balinor. Apparently he hid in the wild following the Purge,” Gaius told him. He bit into the food again.

“After the…?” Ywain puzzled with that insight. He wondered why a friend of Malodius’ would hide in the wilds and inhospitable hinterlands. “Was he a sorcerer? I….” His eyes went wide. He swallowed hard. “Wait! I know that name!” He stared at Gaius. “Are you serious?”

Panic chilled Gaius’ mind and heart. Fear parched his throat. “Sir Ywain, please! You can’t… I don’t even know the whole story.”

“I do now.” Ywain rubbed Gaius’ shoulder reassuringly. “It’s all right. I would guard that man’s secret with my life. No wonder Malodius is so interested in Merlin’s safety.” He looked around to make sure nobody was listening. “Balinor was a dragon lord. He stayed in Nemeth for a while. He served King Rodor’s father well in several battles. Apparently he saved Malodius during one such affair against Cawdor.” Ywain smiled. “And now Merlin comes to us.”

“He is Camelot’s man, Sir Ywain. As much as I want the best for him, we need him. I doubt Arthur would let him go,” Gaius reminded him.

Ywain sighed. “If Balinor is indeed dead, Merlin will have inherited his gift. No wonder the dragons aided us in Ealdor. And that one serves like some common churl? Does Arthur know?”

“He can never know! Sir Ywain, I know you mean well but….” Gaius protested.

“Merlin should choose his own way. Arthur, for all of his forward-looking ideas, is still a bigot when it comes to magic. If he knew who Merlin really was, he’d burn him at the stake. The best Merlin could hope for is exile.” Ywain chuckled. “I wonder if Princess Mithian knows?”

“Know what, Sir Ywain?” Mithian inquired. She’d stepped forward from where she’d been listening to their conversation. “You might be more attentive of your surroundings. I was able to stand there and hear everything you’re saying about Merlin.”

Contrition reddened Ywain’s face. “I should take greater care. Pardon me, Princess.”

“I know you will. Now, as to your question….” She glanced around to emphasize her previous point. “Yes I know about his abilities as a dragon lord. Did I hear you say his father was Balinor, Master Gaius? Truly so?”

“It has been many years since he and I spoke, Lady. I helped Balinor to escape Camelot prior to Uther’s attempt to arrest him,” Gaius told him. “He left Hunith in Ealdor to keep her safe. He didn’t even know about Merlin until they met just prior to his death.”

“My father told me stories of him.” She smiled. Her eyes glistened with Admiration’s tears. “And now his son is our greatest friend and ally. He has now proven himself.”

“Princess, I told you back in Ealdor. Merlin is Arthur’s man. He can’t….” Gaius protested.

Mithian snorted. Her eyebrow outarched the physician’s (and, yes, at that point, it happened). “Master Gaius, there is no further argument. Balinor earned my grandfather’s respect and Father’s as well. Before Uther forced him to flee, King Rodor knighted Balinor and ennobled him. Now Merlin has earned that status as well by deed. Now I know and I can….”

“Princess Mithian, Merlin wants to serve! He can’t….” Gaius denied.

“Merlin thinks that’s the only way he can protect Arthur and do his duty. He’s torn, Master Gaius! You have him so paranoid that he doesn’t trust anyone! Now something has happened. He stirred Morgana’s attention. We have to act quickly,” she informed Gaius. “As a knight, he can do so much more! And a noble and Prince, so much infinitely more than that!”

Gaius flushed. He bristled at her impertinence. “You don’t understand. Helping you gave Agravaine the opportunity to put him on trial. Your intervention gave Morgana the way into Camelot. Please, Princess! Your intentions may be good but….”

“Master Gaius, stop. I understand you care about Merlin’s welfare,” Ywain interceded. Anxiety for the elder man’s welfare made him say something. “Princess Mithian is only stating the truth. If Merlin is Balinor’s son, he is by right a nobleman. He should be knighted right now. King Arthur is wrong to not have knighted Merlin before this point.”

“It isn’t safe for Merlin to reveal himself! You both should know that,” Gaius countered grimly. “And it’s my task to protect him.” He wiped his face with a handkerchief. “I appreciate the meat, Sir Ywain. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Just consider what we’re saying,” Ywain replied.

“There’s nothing to consider. Merlin would be a target. He’s a boy not some warrior! Honestly!” Gaius bowed to her. Then he hustled away.

“Forgive me for interrupting you, Princess Mithian. I meant no disrespect,” Ywain apologized.

She shook her head. “It’s quite all right. You know I value your counsel, Sir Ywain. The issue is with how people want to use Merlin. Camelot wants him in his current role. The rest of us know he has more value than just in running Arthur’s household. Now that I know about Balinor, King Rodor will be most insistent on that point.” She bit her lip. “Can I be honest?”

“Of course. And it will be our secret,” he assured her.

“I appreciate that.” She exhaled. “Despite what Master Gaius thinks, I don’t look at Merlin just as a political match or as a tool to be used at a whim.”

“To any of us, it’s obvious, my Lady. If I may say so, you care for him deeply. I’d even dare say, you love him,” he observed.

Shyness turned her cheeks deep red. “I do. I just wish that people would understand. King Arthur can love Guinevere! Why can’t I be with Merlin?”

“As you pointed out, it’s in how Merlin’s talents fit in with people’s interests.” Ywain nodded. “Yes it makes sense. Have faith, Princess. I see how Merlin cares for you as well. If I can put this fire out, I will begin the packing?”

“You may get to it. I’ll put the fire out. I require more time to consider things,” she told him.

“Of course. Is there anything else you require, my Lady?” He stood and bowed.

“If you can tell the others we need to speak within a turn of the hourglass? It seems we have an important matter ahead. We should press on for Camelot,” she requested.

“I shall inform Sir Galahad and the others at once.” He turned and hurried toward their comrades in arms.

She stared deeply into the flames. She admired the sparks and ever shifting colors and plumes within them. So much creation and destruction within those flames. Can’t they see that Merlin’s gifts are the same? Why do they fight our being there so vehemently? WHY? She moped. Insight granted her a reason why Merlin acted as he had.

The road ahead would be long indeed…..

Chapter Text

Chapter 6 [Some Other Place—A Quarter Turn of the Hourglass Later]

Deeper within the mists than even Avalon itself, the triple goddess stood over a pool of water. Occasional glimmers, colors and signs sparkled and glittered on the liquid’s shimmering surface. Events might shoot by. A battle either coming or already fought glimmered for a heartbeat’s view before rippling away. Nothing seemed too small to appear…even a single bird’s flight for that matter.

All for the triple goddess’ consideration.

The luminescent woman in her robes observed the currents and ripples in her pool. Occasionally she’d pass her hand over it and whisper serenely. For the most part, she contented herself to simply watch the goings-on. A frown spread across her face. Even now the mortals cannot control themselves. She waved her hand over the fountain.

The pool glowed brightly before displaying the scene at Camelot’s citadel. It showed Morgana and Helios only starting to regain consciousness after Emrys’ assault. It revealed Arthur’s slipping from shadowy corner to shadowy corner while cradling Gwen in his arms. It offered a view of the knights being held in the dungeons under guard.

Another pass of her hand revealed Mithian’s recent lecture to Merlin about that rash and ill-planned maneuver. It showed the Princess trying to rally her own numbers and arguing with Gaius about how limited his own guidance had been. The ripples presented the Mercians’ brooding over their new state of affairs. Splits in loyalty would exist until Percival proved himself before them in battle. That was despite the fact he had already done so by besting Cedric in the duel.

A final ripple revealed a lone rider galloping down on Camelot from the west bearing Tintagel’s standard and colors.

Really now? She probed deeper into the events. Her eyes discerned Death’s visit to an old man in his sleep. She saw Tintagel’s eyes looking to his prone body even as they awaited the rider’s return from his mission.

He rode to find the last heir of Gorlois. He rode to find one to unify that land.

An ironic choice indeed. She stilled the waters with a final sweep of her hand. To think Morgana Pendragon would be the one to restore Stability’s grace to that realm. It boggles even the divine will. And yet Opportunity would be served well by it indeed. She rubbed her chin. Her head nodded ever so slightly. My priestesses, attend me!

Fate, it seemed, held the fortunes of Tintagel, Camelot, Nemeth, Mercia and perhaps Cawdor in the balance. Those who held power for their own gain are being swept away. A solution to the festering sore is coming to pass. It has only to be accepted by those who would be the rightful heirs.

Mists formed in the corner. From them Ninane, Freya and another hooded woman approached their goddess. Respect moved them to bow before her.

“We are here as per your request, Mother,” Freya indicated.

“As per your request,” Ninane echoed.

“Even the Great Passage yields to you,” the hooded one added.

As well it should. I wish you to reveal yourself to your sisters. I require there to be no secrets between you, the goddess bade.

The woman pulled back her hood. As the head covering fell away, raven dark hairs spilled from the hood’s containment and down her back. Focus showed in her emerald eyes. Her pale skin seemed ever more so because of the recent time on the Other Side. “As you wish.”

Freya stared at the other priestess. “Nimue? But…”

Nimue sniffed. A knowing smirk spread across her face. “But I was dead? So, Freya, were you. It seems we each have our purpose still to serve.” Confidence bordering on Cockiness shone in her eyes. “And Emrys, as always, doesn’t heed his brain when acting.” She rolled her eyes on that note.

“He protected his King,” Freya defended.

“Oh yes. He did that. Bravo!” Nimue mock-cheered. “The boy can barely keep from blowing something up with his rashness. Gaius and Kilgarrah have done such wonders with their guidance. He could have prevented this crisis.”

“And how might that have been?” Ninane asked finally breaking her silence.

Nimue arched an eyebrow at the youngest member of the order present. “By actually mentoring Morgana instead of trying to kill her? Perhaps by keeping her from Morgause’s manipulations? By being her ally and friend?”

“Perhaps she might have been an ally to Merlin where I was concerned. He did do as much for Mordred,” Freya countered. “While we’re engaging in such thoughts, Nimue, perhaps I could have had such guidance? The Pendragons are opposed to magic and the Old Ways. Merlin has to take care. As I was killed, so could Uther have done to Merlin or Morgana.” She bowed her head. “I try to bear my feelings and move on, Sister. You should as well. We are here to serve.”

“Indeed we are.” Nimue bowed. Admiration offered a smile across her features for Freya’s point. She made a note to herself to watch her fellow priestess.

And well you should remember that, the goddess broke in. Your discussions set the tone properly for your purpose, my Priestesses. It is for you to ease the way toward Destiny’s resolution. Go forth and remind your fellow mortals of their obligations. Remind them of how precarious the way can be especially if they continue on their current paths. Ninane, you are to assist Arthur Pendragon in freeing the knights. Freya, speak to Morgana Pendragon. Her road lies not in Camelot despite her wishes to the contrary. Nimue, you are to speak with Emrys and his companions. Maintain your resolve. Remind them that you are on my business. That is all.

The trio bowed again. Then they disappeared into the mists.

Such is the matter of mortals. I pray they remember their true way. The goddess went back to viewing her pool. Her eyes alighted on Arthur carrying Gwen down a set of stairs toward the dungeon area. There is one matter I can deal with. She waved her hand over the waters. “A 'dùisg!” That should help.

With that, she went back to watching. Hope she watched for even if remained obscured from her sight.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7 [Dungeons—Camelot]

Arthur eased Gwen and himself into the passage. He’d taken considerable time and effort to navigate the lesser traversed passages and stairways between the throne room and that point. Now he crept along the last passage toward the dungeon. Perhaps I should get Gwen out first. Still I won’t leave the knights like this! He looked upon her. He straightened a bit of mussed hair off of her forehead. She slumbered. Still the frown and grimace told him that it was anything but peaceful.

She stirred and groaned. “What?” She blinked. For an instant, her heart relaxed. Then her mind reminded her of the present circumstances. “Arthur?”

His eyes darted this way and that. “Keep it down, Gwen. We’re in the dungeon area.” He set her down so she could stand for herself. “Can you walk?” he whispered.

She bit her lip guarding against what she wanted to say to him. Still she found that she could walk. “Morgana used a sleeping spell against me. What happened?”

He shrugged. “How do I know? Perhaps her magic is weakening?” He glanced around the corner toward the dungeon. “There are two guards posted. Perhaps there might be more in the passage.”

“Morgana’s not expecting us to be here, Arthur. Let’s not wish for trouble,” she noted. Then she chuckled.

“I fail to find any humor in this. What is it?” he asked.

“Are we escaping or should I confess to you? Do you have a plan, Arthur? I have to wonder,” she retorted.

He sucked in an impatient breath. “We’re escaping. All of us.” His lip turned as if biting into something extremely sour. “And no. I am not a Nazarene nun. Leave that where it lies.”

“Could have fooled me.” She took a look at the situation. “Strange that they don’t hear us.”

“I told you to keep it down,” he reminded her. Still he had to admit that she had a point. “Let’s worry about that later. Right now…”

“That’s just typical, Arthur. Can you do anything other than rush in?” she complained. She shivered. “Now what? Why is it so icy cold?”

He noticed the reddening of his hands and her face. “I’d wonder too. I wish I had my cloak to offer you. Sadly I do not.” He noted the mists encircling them. “What now?”

“My apologies. I am here to help.” Ninane appeared to their left.

“Who? Another witch like Morgana?” He wished for his sword. At that point, he wanted any weapon.

“Priestess Ninane, are you here to help us?” Gwen felt more than a bit relieved for the first time in a while.

“Indeed I am. My goddess woke you from Morgana’s spell. Perhaps I might assist you further?” Ninane glanced down toward the two knights playing cards. “Cadal.” Her eyes glinted canary yellow.

The two knights stiffened at the table. Their fingers lost feeling. The cards they held dropped to the table. They slumped in their chairs and snored loudly.

“I prefer a fair fight,” Arthur disagreed.

“Oh? And with what? Stop looking a gift mare in the mouth, Arthur. It’s a weapon like a sword or a mace. This time magic is helping us!” Gwen admonished. She rushed into the chamber.

“Gwen, we don’t know…! What?” Arthur turned to Ninane. “How do we know you aren’t with Morgana?”

Ninane raised an eyebrow. “In what sense, Arthur Pendragon? She and I are sister priestesses. But no. I do not agree with what she has done here. Nor do I agree with what your father and you have done here. Neither side is completely in the right or wrong. Fortunately we may have a way to work matters out.” She sighed. “We don’t have time for this. Either stand there and soil your skirt or follow. It’s your choice.” She rushed off to follow Gwen.

Unreal. How can we trust a witch? Magic is evil! Arthur ground his teeth and rushed toward the cell block.

****

Gwen pulled the keys from the slumbering guard’s waist. I can’t understand why they’re so opposed to magic. It made this easier. She looked at the two guards. Nobody’s hurt at least. She saw Ninane come toward her. “Where’s Arthur?”

“He’s dealing with my magic.” Ninane shook her head. “He really needs to deal with that. Follow me. I don’t need a key.” She motioned for Gwen to follow her down the passage.

“Where are you going?” Arthur demanded.

“She’s going to open the doors.” Gwen raised an eyebrow. “Will you please stop being so difficult? Really?” She rushed off after the priestess.

As if I can trust that? he complained to himself. He considered his own appearance. Once again he shook his head and ran toward the two women. Several times his feet nearly caught the skirt. He stumbled and tripped. His hands had to catch the stone walls a few times. As he reached the others, he demanded, “What are you doing?”

Ninane exhaled. How does Emrys deal with this? She motioned toward the doors. Her eyes glowed once more. “Fosgail na dorsan!”

On cue, the doors’ locks undid themselves. They swung open.

“It’s all right! Are you all in there?” Gwen called.

Leon edged his head out into the passage. “Gwen? What?” He stared at Ninane. “Is that a witch with you?”

“She’s a priestess. And yes, she opened the doors! She helped Princess Mithian and the Nemeth party before. Who’s with you?” Gwen assured him. Impatience accented her tone.

“Gwen!” Elyan exclaimed. He rushed to embrace her. “I’m glad you’re all right! What about Morgana?” His eyes went wide at Arthur’s appearance. “Sire?”

“Not a word, Elyan. Not a word,” Arthur cut him off tersely. He frowned. “Not a word any of you! Gwen, you have the keys? We need to get out before they sound the warning bell.”

Ninane opened a portal. “Here’s your way out, King Arthur. I suggest you follow me.”

The knights exchanged looks with each other. They froze; Indecision locked them in place. Their eyes met Arthur’s. Prejudice raised questions.

Arthur rolled his eyes. He knew that without armor and weapons, he and the knights had no chance to fight through the Southron hordes between them and the outside. “We have to trust her,” he relented. Despite their recent issues, he looked to Gwen.

“Stop it!” Gwen chided. “We don’t have time for this!” With that, she charged into the mists.

“We have no choice,” Arthur relented. “Forward!” He glared at Ninane before following Gwen into the fog.

Leon motioned forward. Granted Reluctance weighed on him. Still Duty drove him on. He led the others in their liege’s wake.

Ninane sighed. “Thank you, Gwen. I know it wasn’t easy for you to do that.”

“You’re helping us. I appreciate that. They need to learn that magic isn’t evil in itself.” Gwen nodded and offered her a smile. Then she walked into the mists.

Thank you, Mother, for giving Gwen that strength. Ninane waved her hands enveloping herself in the mists. Once she’d left, the portal vanished leaving no trace in their wake.

****

A heartbeat later, the two Southron guards stirred. The sleeping spell wore off. They looked around. A chill stabbed at their hearts. They jumped out of their chairs and ran toward the cell block.

“NO! NO!” the bigger of the two guards protested. Panic shot icy daggers up his spine. Fear from Morgana’s potential reaction threatened to stop his heart once and for all.

They looked in each and every cell. They couldn’t believe how the knights had escaped. They hadn’t seen anyone attempting to break their prisoners out of the cell block.

Would wonders ever cease?

Chapter Text

Chapter 8 [Throne Room]

Morgana frowned. Her eyes opened ever so slowly only gradually readjusting to the light. She propped herself up on one shoulder against the throne’s wooden backing. She ground her teeth and looked around before wishing she hadn’t.

The sight around herself just made her feel even worse. Most of the courtiers and soldiers still lay sprawled from the magical assault. Furnishings were damaged. Tapestries lay in torn heaps on the floor. Even Helios, as much as he prided himself on being prepared for anything, lay still unconscious against the room’s far corner.

“Emrys! Why do you haunt me? WHY?” She jumped off of the throne and stalked down from the dais. Her eyes blazed at the discarded leather bonds on the floor. “Arthur, you can’t get far. You won’t….” She stopped her rant in midstream. She detected another presence…that of a fellow priestess. “Don’t sneak up on me!” She threw a burst of magical fire.

Freya deflected the burst with one of her own. She steeled herself recalling the goddess’ directive. “Your hate and anger blind you, Sister. Please stop and think on what you do.”

Morgana sniggered. Sarcasm dripped from her tone. “You dress as a priestess? I am the last one! I am the High Priestess!”

“You was a High Priestess. The triple goddess has sent me to speak with you. I am Freya, your successor as Avalon’s High Priestess. You allowed your obsession with Camelot’s throne to blind you. There is another way. Please consider….” Freya started to clarify.

“I AM HIGH PRIESTESS! YOU ARE NOTHING!” Morgana’s eyes glowed. She threw another burst wide scoring the wall and just missing Freya in the process.

Freya quaked slightly. Anxiety akin to facing a rabid animal seized upon her for a few heartbeats. ,Mother, she will not listen! She deflected another burst with a magical energy bubble.

“How grandly you hide behind your shield, Freya. You are a child. I will kill you. Then I’ll deal with Emrys as he deserves. He will suffer before….” Morgana threatened.

Freya stiffened. She ground her teeth. Anger flared consuming Fear and Anxiety’s grip within herself. Her eyes glowed florescent yellow. “YOU WILL NOT TOUCH HIM!” Without a mitigating thought, she returned fire with a lightning burst of her own.

Not suspecting Freya’s capabilities, Morgana was ill prepared. Much as an explosion might snuff out a torch, the newcomer’s spell had its effect. Before she could erect a defensive barrier, the burst knocked her backwards. She slid against the wall.

Freya’s mouth twisted into a dark frown. She waved her hands again casting a spell.

Glowing energy bound Morgana’s hands and gagged her mouth.

“Now you will not threaten anyone, Morgana. Now you will have to listen,” Freya instructed. She composed herself. “You are not meant to have this throne, Sister. You may want it but this one is not for you. There would be another one if you can handle the responsibility.”

Morgana growled incoherently. She struggled against the bonds. She could not summon even a spark of magic to free herself. Her eyes blazed with righteous fire. You brat! You side with Emrys against me? You traitor! Just wait until I’m loose! I’ll kill you! I…

Freya does my will, Morgana Pendragon. Just as you should have done for the past decade of your time, the goddess informed her. You choose not to serve me. So be it.

A bright light filled the chamber before the triple goddess herself appeared in its center. Unlike in her own sanctuary, the deity allowed Serenity’s mask to drop. In its place, a stern expression burned into the recalcitrant sorceress’ psyche.

Freya quickly bowed. Forgive me, Mother. I am trying to make the offer you asked of me.

I understand. Still Morgana Pendragon cannot be trusted. The goddess’ glow increased in luminosity. She pointed. If you will not serve me then you will not have your gift. Then she made a swiping move with her hand as if pulling something from the air toward herself.

Morgana quivered and spasmed. Pain seared every inch of her body. Her hair bristled. Her skin tingled and reddened. She screamed through the gag. She felt something being torn from herself….

…which in effect it was….

She fainted against the wall; her senses overwhelmed by that last assault.

A glowing jet black ball of energy streaked through the air. It broke apart and flowed back into the triple goddess’ form.

Freya shook from fear. Failure burned at her. “I have failed you, Mother. We have lost a valuable ally.”

The triple goddess shook her head. You tried to reach her, my Priestess. No. Morgana Pendragon was consumed by her anger, hatred and vengeance a long time ago. She turned from the way well before this point. I could have eliminated her. I could deny her the path chosen for her. Yet I will not. She can still do such things.

“You are truly merciful,” Freya complimented.

She can do them. She will not, however, do them with magic. As with any form of power, it must be wielded responsibly. Perhaps, if she repents and reforms herself, I will return the gift to her. Until then, Morgana Pendragon will have to manage without such things. Take her to Avalon. We shall speak again when she awakens, the goddess explained.

“As you wish, my Lady. If I may ask, what about her allies?” Freya asked.

Yes. What of the rouge clad warriors? The goddess’ eyes glowed. She waved her hands effectively sweeping the fallen men away. They have been returned to their own lands. Without this one, they have no unity or will be a further threat. That is how we deal with a situation such as this, my Priestess. Eliminate the infection and allow the body to heal and resume its normal function. Arthur Pendragon can have the privilege of judging this one. She pointed to Helios. I hope that this turn of events will convince him of my good will and the place of my ways in this world. Now back to Avalon with her and yourself.

“At once, Mother. Thank you.” Freya enveloped herself and Morgana in the mists sweeping them both from the throne room and toward the hidden isle.

The goddess looked down upon the unconscious Helios. You are of greater threat than you know. Pity. You might have served me further. Now you will feel Justice’s sting. She teleported them both away in a blinding flash of light.

And so the court and castle were virtually abandoned. Other than the devastation from Merlin’s intrusion earlier, not a sign remained of the standoffs or turning of the tide.

That, the goddess intended, would allow for the Greater Good to triumph…..

Chapter Text

Chapter 9 [Nemeth/Mercia Campsite—A quarter turn of the hourglass prior to the last chapter]

Merlin rolled up his bedroll and set it on his horse. Regret had proved a wet blanket on his previous success. Morgana could have killed Arthur and Gwen! I got them out and bought us time! I didn’t kill anyone! Why is the Princess upset? He sighed. I disappointed her. No wonder I’ve never had anyone. It’s too hard.

Poor Emrys. Always complaining. Pity you *never* seem to learn, a female voice snarked at him.

His ears perked. He knew the voice. “What? No! She’s dead!”

“Am I now?” Nimue sauntered into view from behind an oak tree. Her eyebrow arched. A saucy smirk held him on edge. Her eyes glinted at him akin to a cat playing with a mouse. “As always, you take things at face value. You make assumptions. You get burned.”

He coughed. “As you did with me?”

She shrugged conceding that point with a bit of nonchalance. “The first time, I didn’t know who you really are. I adjusted to your capabilities. Problem is, Merlin, I underestimated how far you would go to stop me. That cost me my life.”

“And yet you’re here. You’re not a shade so….” He looked her over.

She chuckled. “Getting a closer look are we? Now whatever would Dear Sweet Mithian or Freya think of that?”

He blushed akin to a kid getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Making sure you aren’t a shade, Nimue.”

“And do I pass your little test, Merlin?” she pressed coyly. “Can we speak to the precious Princess?”

“Will you? You don’t need my permission, Nimue.” Impatience over her tactics smoldered in his mind.

“I don’t know. You seem to have appointed yourself as much Mithian’s protector as you have Arthur’s. My! My! You do get around. Don’t you?” she retorted with a playful lilt to her voice.

“It’s not like that,” he argued. The steam practically billowed out of his ears.

“Not like what?” Mithian walked over. She recognized Nimue’s priestess garb even if she didn’t the newcomer herself. “Who is this, Merlin?”

“Princess Mithian, this is the Priestess Nimue. Nimue, this is her royal highness, Princess Mithian of Nemeth,” he introduced them to each other. He added a bow in Mithian’s direction as a partial mea culpa for his earlier indiscretion where she was concerned.

“Welcome then, Priestess Nimue. I’m glad that your order emerges from seclusion. We could sorely use your assistance against Morgana,” Mithian replied. She quirked an eyebrow. You know you don’t have to bow to me, Merlin.

I’m being polite, Princess, he replied.

Even if you would never do this for the Younger Pendragon? Nimue smirked. For a split heartbeat, one might have seen canary feathers spurting out the sides of her mouth.

Merlin shows respect and does more than those of his station should do, Priestess Nimue, Mithian retorted without hesitation. She couldn’t miss how Tension bubbled up between him and the newcomer. What happened between them?

It was nothing like that, Princess. Nimue overstepped her bounds. I defended Arthur and the court, he assured her.

Overstepped my bounds? I serve the triple goddess as you should, Merlin. I was putting Uther and Arthur in their place! Pity you forget yours, Nimue countered firmly. She of course did remember how he’d flirted with her at their first meeting. Still, while she enjoyed yanking his chain, she didn’t know enough about Mithian to risk tweaking hers at that point. “As much as I enjoy speaking with you both, I do have a message from the goddess for your leaders. Shall we?”

Mithian exchanged wary looks with Merlin. She made a mental note to ask him about this particular priestess. “Follow me then. You too, Merlin.”

Nimue coughed. She’s training you well, Merlin.

Oh shut up! He stalked off toward where the knights waited.

“You do know I heard that, Priestess Nimue? Please don’t insult Merlin. Now let’s go,” Mithian scolded. She followed him toward the other leaders’ position.

Nimue smiled. Admiration emerged albeit begrudgingly for Nemeth’s Crown Princess. She then followed them toward the assembly.

****

Gaius shuffled through the gathering throng. He could readily detected Tension’s presence between the Nemeth knights and their Mercian counterparts. Exchanged stares burned into his psyche. Silence smothered the air. Rather than say anything, he simply pressed through them and sat on the edge of the group. This is quite the coalition. They should have an impact if they don’t kill each other first!

“Hey, Gaius, quite the fun fest, eh?” Gawain supposed. He sat down next to the elderly physician. “It could use some livening up. “ He rolled his eyes.

Gaius arched The Eyebrow. “Given what you’d do, Gawain, I doubt the camp would survive.”

“Oh it’ll survive. Yeah a few punches’ll get thrown. These prats will loosen up. Tension gets worked out. Then maybe we’ll all get an ale and kick the Queen Wannabe outta Camelot. Party afterwards too. Stuff like that brings people together,” Gawain insisted.

“The only things it brings together, Sir Gawain, are someone’s fist with your face,” Galahad noted. “Even as far away as Whitgate is from Camelot, stories have circulated of your good times.”

“Hey! If something’s worth doing, do it right. Put it over big,” Gawain told them. He smirked. “You all could use some fun. Now maybe if Mith’ll….”

Gaius cleared his throat and bowed his head.

Galahad squinted; Menace clearly shot toward the irreverent knight from Camelot. “Princess Mithian sees to our needs very well. Respect her. Perhaps you might learn something from Merlin? He at least knows how to respect her.”

“I respect her. Royals are royals though. Big on pomp and not much circumstance,” Gawain countered. “Now ol’ Merlin, well…I know what he wants.”

“Gawain, please,” Gaius beseeched. “Don’t say another word!”

“Sppt! And why not? I….” Gawain started. Then something grabbed his ear from behind and jerked him onto his back. “Hey! OW! What the blazes? I….Brit!”

Britomart rolled her eyes. “We know you’re an oaf, Sir Gawain. How you stay alive remains a mystery only the triple goddess knows and understands. What use she has for you escapes me! We tolerate you being the camp fool because you might be useful in a fight. If anything else, your breath and half-baked droning might put the enemy down before that blunted blade bounces off of his armor. Don’t disrespect my Lady!”

“Brit, you need to get over it. I….” Gawain blurted.

“I agree with the lady, Gawain. Listen to her before I have to challenge you,” Galahad advised him pointedly. “Besides someone else might have issue with that as well.”

“Take a number at the bar,” Gawain scoffed. He sat up and looked away from the red head. His eyes went wide. He grinned. “Merlin! We were just talking about you!”

“So I heard. The whole camp heard for that matter. Gawain, Princess Mithian is still our superior on the social ladder. She is to be respected. I won’t have anyone talking about her like that,” Merlin told him.

“Merlin, loosen up. I….” He winced from her backhand across the cheek. “Brit, you might get me to forget you’re a woman if you keep that up.”

“Then I can deal with you.” Merlin cleared his throat. “Trust me. You don’t want that.”

“Sppt! I can beat you in a scrap.” Then Realization widened Gawain’s eyes. “You wouldn’t do the….?”

“Merlin, don’t even think it,” Gaius instructed.

“Then he shouldn’t mouth off.” Merlin locked eyes firmly with Gawain’s. “Gawain, you are my friend. Princess Mithian however deserves our respect. Knock it off. I’m having enough issues dealing with people without you jumping into it.”

Gawain snorted. “Bloody blazes! You are whipped, ain’t you? Never thought….”

“And you’re in danger of going to the stocks when the time’s right. Shut up, Sir Gawain. Now,” Mithian informed him with an icy tone. She nodded to Merlin. Thank you for defending my honor, Merlin.

It’s my pleasure, Princess. I am sorry about earlier. I was trying to help, Merlin apologized.

I know. Thank you for saying so. I appreciate it, Mithian replied. She cleared her throat. “We’re about to talk. Perhaps you might want to see if you can use your feet as well as your mouth, Sir Knight?”

Britomart stifled a chuckle. “Well put, Milady.” She grabbed Gawain by the arm and yanked him to his feet. “Have some dignity. Will you? It’s embarrassing!”

Gawain grimaced. “I’m not some kid for you to pull around, Brit. Geez!”

“I could debate that.” Merlin shrugged at Mithian. “Perhaps we might get started? I know Nimue’s not going to want to wait much longer and….”

Gaius stiffened. He stood slack jawed as he saw Nimue watching him in turn. “How? Merlin, she’s dead!”

“Not for his or your lack of trying, Gaius,” Nimue retorted. She smirked clearly savoring his Ill at Ease. “The goddess brought me back. I don’t die that easily.” She considered Gawain who was looking her over. “You could lose an eye or the use of something else for doing that, Prat. I can be quite creative. Just ask Gaius or Merlin.”

“I think we’d rather not see any more of that, Nimue. Camelot still deals with the effects of your last foray in that regard,” Gaius noted. “Then shall we speak with the others? We have a bit farther to ride to reach Camelot.”

Nimue shrugged. “It is but distance. I can cross that in the blink of an eye.” She rolled her eyes. “I can feel you, Lion. I know you’re there.”

Malodius snarled. He strode between the priestess and his friends. The goddess, it seems, makes use of *everything*. Maybe this time we can redeem you?

And the creature speaks! Truly this is a day for surprises! You’re not as stupid as you pretend to be after all, Nimue retorted not giving an inch.

And perhaps you’ll work with us rather than cause trouble this time? Merlin suggested.

Perhaps when you remember that your duty is to the goddess as well as to Arthur Pendragon, Merlin, Nimue rebutted. She stopped short. “Wait.” She rubbed her forehead. “There’s something happening.”

So there is, my Priestess, the triple goddess declared. The need for violence is over. Camelot is free once more.

“Free? But Morgana…?” Merlin gasped.

It has been settled, Merlin. She refused the goddess’ offer. She suffered the penalty, Freya chimed in. I have brought her to Avalon. Ninane should be there shortly.

You dealt with Morgana Pendragon? Is there no end to the surprises? Nimue snarked.

She threatened a certain friend. I took exception to that, Sister, Freya informed her. The others will be there within a heartbeat or two. I’d advise you to be aware. With that she went silent.

“Others?” Merlin asked while looking around.

“What are you talking about, Merlin? I don’t hear anyone else,” Gaius insisted. He looked around.

“Yeah now we’re in the dark. Guess we need to find out?” Gawain supposed.

“It won’t be long.” Mithian headed toward where the knights were waiting.

It seemed the discussion would be forthcoming….

Chapter Text

Chapter 10 [Other Side of the Camp]

Ninane opened the portal. She put her hand up to the knights and Gwen. “Let me make sure it’s safe.”

“Safe?” Arthur looked at the misty passage. Uncertainty clouded his thinking. He exchanged glances with Leon, Elyan and the two dozen knights in back of them. “How do we know this is safe?”

“Arthur, stop it! She is trying to help us,” Gwen chastised. “Would you rather be stuck back in that cell block?”

“I’d like to get my hands on that murderous old man. He killed my father,” Arthur insisted.

Ninane frowned. “No. Morgana and your uncle killed your father. Emrys tried to save him. She put an enchantment on your father. Any healing magic was amplified and turned into a killing spell. Your father never had a chance, King Arthur. Emrys didn’t know about the charm when he cast the spell.”

“A wizard like that and he didn’t know? Likely story!” Leon doubted.

“Perhaps he should have. Still I am telling the truth. I’ll be back.” Ninane waved her hands and opened a doorway to the forest. She stepped out to find herself just beyond the camp’s western edge. She turned to the group. “Come through! Our allies are here!”

“Allies?” Arthur looked to Gwen. “What else do you know about this, Guinevere?”

Gwen shook her head. “Only what you do, Arthur. Unlike you though, I actually trust Priestess Ninane to guide us. She isn’t like Morgana. Do what you will. I’m walking out.” She stepped onto the grass and woods. Then she called back in. “In case you’re wondering, yes, it’s safe!” Sarcasm heavily saturated her tone toward the knights. She exhaled heavily. “I apologize for them, Priestess Ninane. Thank you for your help.”

“We can hope that this is the first step in renewing the trust between the Five Kingdoms and Avalon,” Ninane expressed. “Thank you for being so kind and your support. Sometimes it takes one person to show others the way.”

“We can hope so indeed,” Gwen concurred. She turned her eyes back toward the wafting mists. “Get out here!!”

Arthur stepped into the woods. He surveyed the sylvan backdrop warily. Seeing Gwen and Ninane watching him expectantly. “I’m here. Come through!”

The knights hesitantly eased their way onto the grass. Relief washed the tension from their faces. Their hands came off of the swords’ hilts. They seemed to relax ever so slightly.

Ninane closed the portal. “As promised. Follow me.” She walked toward Ywain. “Sir Ywain!”

“Priestess Ninane, where did you…?” Ywain noticed Arthur and the others behind her. “King Arthur! Guinevere! Sir Leon!” He kneeled before Arthur. “You’re all safe! What happened? We heard Morgana Pendragon and her soldiers kidnapped you.”

“Morgana held us prisoner. We escaped although I’m not exactly sure of how things happened in the process,” Arthur told Ywain. “Who else is with you?”

“Princess Mithian’s still leading our company. Sirs Ywain, Percival and Gawain are with us. The Mercians have allied themselves with us as well. Their King and Princess Mithian are about to speak with us. We’re about to march on Camelot. Follow me,” Ywain explained. He led them to where the others were congregating together.

Merlin saw them. “Arthur! Gwen! You’re all free? What happened? Tristan and Isolde told us that the Southrons captured you.”

“Yes, Merlin. It was quite the ordeal just like this dress you put me in. Only an idiot like you would put me in something like this!” Arthur retorted sharply. “Hopefully someone will have some clothes suitable for me to wear!”

“Merlin was trying to keep you safe,” Mithian reminded Arthur. “If you allow us a period of time, we can manage a suitable set of clothes. Britomart, perhaps you might assist King Arthur?”

“It would be my pleasure, Milady.” Britomart maintained a straight face as she led Arthur toward the Nemeth knights’ clothes.

As they passed by her, Arthur glanced at Nimue. While not exactly sure, he remembered her from their first encounters. “I know you.”

“You should, Arthur Pendragon. I helped to give you life,” Nimue informed him. “Go and assuage your manhood. We can catch up on such things later.” She rolled her eyes. She looked to Merlin. You did dress him in the nun’s garb. It suits him!

So not funny. Nimue, don’t pick on him. He’s angry enough as it is, Merlin requested.

Why not? It will keep his ego in check. Nimue smirked at him. Then she saw Arthur return in a pair of nondescript tan breeches and a matching shirt. He’d cinched a borrowed belt and sword around his waist. So much for that.

Merlin nodded. He grabbed an empty cup and filled it with water. He hustled it to his liege.

Arthur nodded but took the cup. “Very refreshing, Merlin.” He took a sip. Instead of handing it to Gwen or one of his men, he dumped the rest of it over Merlin’s head. “Now that is a better look for you.” He smirked and flipped the cup back at his servant.

Merlin ground his teeth. While he understood that Arthur had endured discomfort and humiliation over wearing the nun’s garb (much as Gawain had), he insisted that it was a necessary thing. Now Embarrassment burned at him as his hair dripped with the very refreshment he’d wanted for his liege. Still he wouldn’t cause a scene. He’d maintain Dignity’s very visage in front of the knights and his Princess if it killed him.

Nimue sniffed savoring the moment at hand. She almost strutted toward Mithian and Percival. “Whenever you want to know more, I can tell you.”

“More? More about what?” Percival wondered. He turned from where he’d been speaking with Reynald. “We need to speak of swordcraft and war not of slight of hand.”

“Magic is not slight of hand. In fact magic just solved our need for a siege,” Nimue informed them. “Ninane, please tell them since they will not believe me.”

“What does she mean? The citadel’s held by the Southron army under Morgana’s and their leader, Helios’, command. They rule Camelot. That could not have changed,” Leon assumed.

“And yet it has. The elderly wizard, Emrys, and the High Priestess Freya turned the tide. Morgana has been taken. The triple goddess removed the Southrons from the citadel and Camelot. Helios awaits your justice, Arthur Pendragon,” Ninane reported. “All that happened while I was leading Guinevere and you knights to safety, King Arthur. The throne, it seems, is yours for the taking. That is if you wish to reclaim it.”

“Indeed I would.” Arthur chafed at Gratitude’s expression toward a sorceress. Still he realized he owed his throne to the priestesses’ intercession. He bowed. “Thank you. We can ride for the citadel. If we start now, we can be there by sundown. Merlin, get my horse.”

Merlin nodded somberly. He retrieved the steed from the pen and led him toward the King. “Looking great if I don’t say.”

“I’m sure you will anyway,” Arthur assumed. He mounted the steed. He felt renewed and refreshed by being back in the saddle once more. He watched as the knights and their hangers-on got onto their own horses.

“We can offer you a faster way, King Arthur,” Ninane invited.

Arthur shook his head. “While we appreciate the necessary end for this situation, the best way is this one.” He spurred the horse and galloped away. “Don’t keep us waiting too long, Merlin!”

Merlin nodded. Fortunately Gaius had the horse with their supplies already on it. Despite the goods reaching Camelot in short order, he wouldn’t be able to walk that fast. He wished that he had something to dry his still dripping hair with. Then a dark cloth covered his face.

“Hold still, Merlin,” Mithian advised. She rubbed his hair dry before lifting the cloth away from his head. “That should help and….” She giggled at his mussed up hair. “The look becomes you.”

“Please. Don’t give Gawain any ideas, Princess. Besides I’ll be sweaty from walking,” Merlin begged.

“Who says you’ll be walking? Let Arthur and the others be prats about magic. You’ll ride into Camelot with me. You offered me a ride on one of Arthur’s horses. It could work,” Mithian suggested.

“And I’ll give you a short cut into the stables. That’ll be sure you won’t be seen,” Ninane offered. She opened a portal to said empty stall. “There you are!”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Merlin took the horse’s bridle and led him into the stable stall. Then he returned to the woods and his Princess’ side. “Perhaps I can place these things in your chambers, Princess?”

“Indeed you may, Merlin.” Mithian grinned. And then you may join me for tea. Let the naysayers mutter what they will!

And they’ll do that all right, Merlin agreed. He picked up a few packages and took them through the mists toward her Camelot chambers.

Mithian sighed. She appreciated her Warlock’s service to her needs. Still she hoped the day wasn’t far away where she didn’t have to watch him doing such things any longer.

When that day would come was anyone’s guess…..

Chapter Text

Chapter 11 [Hours Later—Physicians’ Chambers]

Merlin surveyed the chamber. Satisfaction and Relief brightened his outlook. Other than the broken door, everything seemed in order for the most part. He’d set the table back upright and pushed the two chairs in. He could see that Gaius would require some new glass lab equipment to replace the broken items. Fortunately though, the escape passage, his grimoire and wand remained undiscovered despite the Southrons’ efforts to the contrary.

“We’re fortunate.” He took the broom and began sweeping the floor. A knock at the door grabbed his attention.

“Indeed we are,” Mithian agreed. She stepped into the chamber with a vase of wildflowers. “I thought the place could use a bit of color. Some roses and azaleas from around Whitgate. Call it my personal touch.” Her eyes sparkled at him.

“How did you get back there?” He sniffed the flowers deeply. A big dreamy smile spread across his face. “Those are nice. You’re too kind, Princess.”

“You merit a little kindness and respect. Arthur puts you through enough. Gaius, for all of his wisdom, is constraining. I know he means well. It’s just….” She hesitated.

“It’s just you think they’re keeping me from my real calling?” He sighed. “I do have a home here. Still you’ve given me a lot to think about. I could do so much more than this. You’re offering me such an opportunity.”

“I want you to be happy, Merlin.” Shyness streaked crimson across her cheeks. “You make me feel alive. Around you, I’m not just the Princess or Rodor’s daughter or a political tool. You care about me as a woman. You’re one of the few people who has a heart and cares. You’re respectful and humble. That makes you special. Being what you are and being able to do what you do is an extra bonus. You’ve earned more than this.” She rubbed his arm. “One thing too about loving someone, Merlin. You know what that is?”

“No. What?” Confusion clouded his mind keeping him from guessing her meaning.

“It means being patient. Unlike Arthur, I respect your boundaries. I understand that you still need parts of this life. You need to consider things and come to a clean understanding of your path. I can wait for you. I want to be in your life. I don’t want to be your mistress or overlord. I love you. I want to raise you up to be my equal. I want to serve beside you be it in Nemeth or the Five Kingdoms as a whole. I want to look into your eyes as the final bans on magic are legislated away. We will sign those documents together. Look at Gwen and Percival. They’re still serving Camelot and the Greater Good. They’re changing to meet Responsibility’s increasing needs. You’re at that point too.” She rubbed her chin. “I could get Freya to talk with you about Avalon’s needs as well.”

“Freya? Princess, I’m needed out here not there,” he disagreed.

“That’s not what I meant, Merlin. When she brought me back to Whitgate to pick the flowers for you, we actually had a chance to talk. She’s very sweet and nice. I can see why you care about her as well.” She smiled. “She agrees though that you need more than this.”

“And she wants me to be in Nemeth too?” he supposed.

“As a woman, she wants you to be happy, Merlin. As Avalon’s High Priestess, she wants you in a place where you can do the greatest good for magic and the Old Religion. You can’t ignore the triple goddess forever. Duty is a harsh master but can offer rewards,” she clarified. “You have so many people in your corner, Merlin. More so than you know.”

“Rewards such as a place for Mother? Acceptance?” he inquired.

“Yes to both. You’d be loved and respected for who and what you are. Look at Malodius. He serves openly. Granted he doesn’t speak to just anyone but he is known for who he is. The knights respect you in Nemeth. You already have an ally in Mercia with Sir Percival. Guinevere knows about us. She respects your feelings, Merlin,” she continued.

“Gwen always has been that. I’ve been that for her.” He frowned. “Even if I hurt you in the process.” Lament weighed on his heart and mind. Contrition’s tears welled up in his eyes. “You weren’t looking to hurt Gwen. It wasn’t your fault. You were doing your duty. Princess, I….”

“It’s all right, Merlin. You’ve more than made up for it. I asked for that second chance. You gave it to me. Then you just…were you.” She snorted. “Those tears show how much you care about my feelings.” She took out her handkerchief. With gentle dabs, she dried his cheeks. “I’ve long since forgiven you for any affront. Your heart is in the right place even if you do have those rough edges.” She smirked. Her eyes sparked into his.

“Rough edges?”

“Nobody’s perfect, Merlin. Not even the most powerful warlock in recorded history or some such poppycock,” she jabbed. “We’ll just have to keep working on that.” She grabbed the broom. “Meantime I can help you clean.”

“Princess, I can’t ask….,” he started to protest.

“You didn’t. What? You should know I’m not some dainty flower needing care and watering all day.” She snorted. “Ask Britomart. I more than tend to the cleaning around my chambers.”

“Keeping after Gawain, she may need help around those chambers.” He grinned and his eyes sparkled back at her. “Thanks, Princess.”

“My pleasure, Merlin.” Her lips brushed Amor’s whisper across his cheek. “Let’s get to work. Shall we? I’d rather be out front before Arthur gets back.”

“Yeah.” He set to work wiping the work table down with a rag. For the first time, Disappointment over Arthur’s looming presence set in just a bit.

Change it seemed was in the air…..

Chapter Text

Chapter 12 [Containment Chamber—Avalon]

Morgana slowly opened her eyes. Pain stabbed at her forehead and limbs. Rather than the royal bedchamber, she beheld humble daub and mud walls with thatch overhead. The bare ground served as floor. A worn blanket offered some padding underneath herself. Another covered her.

Still Chill elicited shivers from her.

She clenched her fists. She concentrated. “Teas suas!”

Alas no warmth came. No magical surge coursed through her. She felt nothing.

“NO! NO! WHY? WHY?” She shrieked with unbridled Fury. Disbelief numbed her. She couldn’t feel it. She was cut off from her magic. She couldn’t do anything. For a turn of an hourglass, she screamed and vented. She tried to unlock the door (both manually and with attempted spells) but to no avail. Frustration’s tears streaked her cheeks. It reddened her eyes. It burned her throat to a raspy parch. She slumped against the far wall. She sobbed. “I just wanted to do your will! Why are you doing this?”

My will or yours, Daughter? Yes you sought to return the Old Ways. You wanted to return magic to the land. Still Ambition and Entitlement blinded you to the true path. Those who have the gift of magic do so with my blessing. I can bestow upon or take from any of you as I will. It is a blessing and a burden. Your obsession with power and revenge has cost you dearly. Be grateful that I did not kill you. You may also have an opportunity to earn back your magic, the triple goddess explained.

“Earn back? What opportunity is that? I’m locked up in here! What would you have me do? Crawl?” Morgana demanded.

Humility will be part of your penance, Morgana Pendragon. Still I can see that you wish to serve me despite your resentment. Therefore I will allow you to tread the path I had previously laid out for you. There is a messenger awaiting you outside. While Camelot is not for you, your adopted father’s mantle awaits you. This is an opportunity. I advise you to make the most of it. It will not be easy. Make peace and recompense with those you had wronged. Some have prayed on your behalf to me. Their alliance will be necessary, the goddess continued. She unlocked the door. Come forth.

“And what is this?” Morgana supposed. Sarcasm and Scorn dripped from her voice.

A future King demonstrating humility and service. You might wish to learn from him, the goddess advised tersely.

Freya opened the door. She peered inside. “You’re awake. I’m glad, Lady Morgana.”

“The High Priestess, I suppose? You so grandly usurp my role, I see,” Morgana sniped.

“The triple goddess placed this burden on me. I bear it with as much grace as I can manage,” Freya responded. She exhaled summoning Patience to hold back Anger and Venom from her replies. “Where you go from here will be determined by your intent and actions. I wish to work with you. Whether we do or not is up to you.”

“And you are the royal who serves?” Morgana supposed.

“No. He’s waiting outside. In a way you have also determined this. Your schemes opened the way for another to gain access to Destiny. Now he waits,” Freya noted. “Be thankful. He could have killed you earlier.”

“Killed me?” Morgana’s eyes narrowed. “Emrys? He….?”

The door opened. Merlin walked in bearing a platter of bread and cheese. In his left hand, a goblet of water sparkled in the candlelight. He exchanged wary glances with Freya. “Can you stay?”

“I wish I could. This is for you both,” Freya declined. She rubbed Merlin’s arm. “Be strong. Remember she’s in pain.”

“I know. I can’t imagine what it’d be like,” he concurred.

Freya nodded. Her eyes met his conveying Encouragement’s support. Then she left closing the door behind herself.

“Can’t imagine what?” Morgana scoffed. “What it’d be like to have to shine more of Arthur’s boots? Maybe to muck out his stalls again?” She coughed. “That’s what you’re meant to do.”

“Perhaps. Seems we both have decisions to make, Morgana. Meantime I brought you something to eat. We’ve both done too much to each other,” he told her.

“Done too much…?” She stared at him. “Wait! No…” She backed away from him. Her head shook furiously. “Impossible! You’re Emrys?”

“So I’ve been called. I could have killed you in the throne room. I chose not to. I didn’t know you’d lose your magic. I’m sorry for that,” he explained adding an apology at the end for her benefit. His eyes glinted. “àrdachadh!”

The plate rose into the air. It hovered in front of her with no signs of support.

“You have magic and you didn’t help me! Merlin, I went to you for help! You did nothing!” she snapped at him. “You tried to kill me!”

“I couldn’t risk you telling Uther or Arthur! You and I both were at risk, Morgana. Don’t you remember the Witch Finder?” he argued.

“Oh yes. I suppose you were responsible for his execution. How cleverly you turned his own means back on him. How like a snake you are. You build trust. Then you strike when the back is turned.” Her eyes narrowed.

“I saved your life and mine, Morgana. There are those who wanted you dead or enslaved to their will. I prevented that. I could have let you die,” he reminded her.

“Best you’d done that than to leave me like this!” she hissed at him. “You do your little penance and I suppose all is well for you.”

“No.” He shook his head. “I have a lot to think about. Like you, I have my own crossroads. I have to decide whether or not to stay with Arthur and Camelot.”

She chortled. “You’d stop licking Arthur’s boots? Really? I can’t believe that! Nobody would entice you away from your precious King. I….” Then Realization dawned upon her again. “Mithian. This is her work.” She rolled her eyes.

“Yes Princess Mithian has presented a possible way for me to serve and be myself. What happened to us won’t happen again, Morgana. I can help others as I wasn’t allowed to do for you,” he affirmed.

She sniffed. “So the sweet Princess wants you now? Arthur and Gwen get together I suppose as well? Oh how romantic! You’re forgetting how attached my Dear Brother is to you, Merlin. I doubt he’ll release you from your service.”

“I hope he does. I’d like a peaceful way beyond this,” he expressed.

“I’d pay to see the look on his face when you do that.” She studied his face. “And you have a plan if he doesn’t. Don’t you?” She laughed. “Even now you scheme for your own ends.”

“I plan for the Greater Good, Morgana.” He waved allowing the plate to descend gently to the floor. “I can’t believe Princess Mithian cares for me.”

“And you care for her. Unbelievable!” Morgana rubbed her forehead. Irony throbbed at her temples and unsettled her stomach.

“You did give us this opportunity. I owe you my thanks. You see? Even when we’re opposed, we help each other.” He shrugged. “And I asked that you get your opportunity. The messenger’s waiting outside.”

“Yes. There’s really someone from Tintagel? This has to be a trick,” she denied indignantly.

“It’s true. I hope you accept it. Perhaps if all goes well, we might work together for the magical community. I can only hope you understand how much I regret what happened before. I know we may never be friends again. I can only hope you come to understand and forgive me. I want the best,” he told her. “We both have to go forward and have a clean heart as we do so.” He opened the door. “Sir Reginald?”

“Aye, Merlin? Thanks,” the messenger agreed. He strode into the chamber. He bowed before her. “Lady Morgana?”

“That I am. And you represent Tintagel, Sir Reginald?” she supposed. Disbelief permeated her tone and words.

“I do.” The knight presented her with a sealed scroll. “I offer you your role as Queen of our realm. By Gorlois and your uncle, you are next in line for the throne. I beseech you to take it. Come home. If the Pendragon does not value you, my Queen, we shall.” He bowed to her.

She broke the seal and unfurled the scroll. As her eyes read the document and saw the signatures, she did a double take. She stared at Merlin.

“What? I had nothing to do with getting him here. I hope you take it. It’ll secure a place for you and for Arthur in Camelot,” Merlin assured her.

“I suppose it will. Anything’s better than suffering in Camelot under Arthur’s attempts at ruling or in this hut.” She looked to Sir Reginald. “I accept. I do not know when I can leave. That will depend upon my jailers.”

“You’re free to leave now, my Lady,” Reginald told her. “With your leave, may I request you follow me?”

“You may. Thank you.” Morgana shot Merlin a confused look. Granted she still stewed over his actions. Still he did want her to succeed in spite of everything that had happened between them. “We shall speak further of this, Emrys.”

“Yes I suppose we will,” Merlin agreed tentatively.

She nodded and walked through the doorway. As she crossed the threshold, a bright light swept her and the knight away.

And there she goes! Merlin shook his head. I hope this works out. I don’t want to think of her on a throne with full power.

Have faith, Merlin. Freya rubbed his shoulder. “Well done.”

“I hope I gave her just the right nudge,” he noted.

“You did just fine as we all knew you would. Now you should eat something before you return to Camelot. King Arthur and the entourage will be there within three more chimes. I would not have you starving,” she assured him.

“Yeah I guess not.” He smirked. “Thank you for being there, Freya.”

“It’s my pleasure to serve as much as it is yours. It’s a double pleasure to be your friend and Mithian’s. Now shall we?” Freya motioned to the plate. “You should get your meal.”

“Yeah I guess I should.” He chuckled and picked up the platter. Then he followed her out the door.

In such ways were alliances made…..

Chapter Text

Chapter 13
[Hours Later—Arthur’s Bedchamber]

Gwen wiped Arthur’s desk down with her rag. She inspected it to be sure that every bit of dust was off of it. She’d already dusted every bit of furniture and window sill. She’d changed the bed linens and plumped his pillows as per his preferences. Her heart urged her to care for him despite recent events. In truth, she’d already forgiven him as part of being in love was understanding for the other partner.

That and she still wanted to stay with all of her being…..

Yes he did that to me. I should leave. I could go back to Nemeth. Mithian would let me stay in Whitgate, I’m sure. I could go back to Riversmore. Everyone was so nice there. Blancheflor would make sure that I’d have a place still. She smiled at the thought of her new friends. Unlike when she’d taken on Exile’s burden before, she had alternatives and good ones at that. She wouldn’t just be wandering around aimlessly.

Still Amor cried out. Departure’s warning bell cut it to the quick. It wanted its King…its blonde haired sometimes-oafish but caring in the end monarch. Arthur was the only one. Chill shivered through it at the thought of being separated from him again.

I know he’d want me to stay. He’ll do something. How will it look in the court’s eyes though? Should I care? Those old prats don’t do anything but doter around anyhow! She sighed deeply. She stepped back and took in her handiwork.

The room sparkled and shone. The familiar scents wafted through it once more. Everything was once more the way it should always have been. Sol’s light gleamed and glittered off of the polished surfaces; a bit of Faerie dust danced in its beams.

We did our best, her heart told her.

We’d do more if he’d let us, her mind fired back.

Take what we get, her heart argued.

As if that’s really fair? She griped to herself. She turned to leave only to find Merlin watching her. “Goodness! Merlin, how long have you been standing there?”

“Not long. Just saw you put the final spit and polish on the desk. You beat me to it, Gwen,” he complimented.

“It wasn’t as messy as I feared it’d be,” she replied. She smiled at him. “You always take care of him. Don’t you?”

“That’s what we do. Right?” He shrugged that point off. He didn’t want to see her go either. “You made it to Riversmore and got word to Lady Blancheflor. She and you got word to King Rodor in Nemeth. Face it. You’re the hero. So it’s me who should thank you.”

“Even if you got to dress Arthur and Gawain in those dresses?” She chuckled warmly at that thought.

“Hey. It was a means to disguise them. We had to slip past the Southron army after all. Percival had the priest’s outfit,” he deflected. Still Satisfaction tugged his mouth into a big grin.

“And a way of getting one on him too. Merlin, I know you. It was a fine stroke either way. You know though he’s going to get you back for that,” she reminded him.

He rolled his eyes. “I know that. I’m dreading what he comes up with for extra chores. Wish you were here to talk him down from them.”

She sighed deeply. “Merlin, you know I can’t stay. Arthur….”

His eyes met hers firmly. “Just talk to him. All right? He knows Morgana was behind that situation with Lancelot. You got that help for us. You did so much. He did rescue you from that chamber.”

“From the chamber?” Her eyes met his at that point. Yes she saw Desperation there. She noticed something else too. She knew the look well….

…when he was balancing a task at hand out front while holding something back too….

“Well I heard he got you out of the throne room. I….” he made excuse. His mind panicked.

She nodded. Understanding got the better of Fear at that point. “Yes. I imagine you did. Considering that Uther died from Morgana’s charm. That old man…Emrys was his name? Fancy you’d know that.” She peered out the door to make sure nobody else was listening. Then she shut the door.

“Gwen?” He stared at her. Uncertainty and Dread bubbled through his mind at that point.

“It’s all right. I suspected something about you for a while. Still I know better than to throw accusations before being absolutely sure. You have a way of doing things. Don’t you, Merlin? The tasks and feats around the court and castle are amazing. Still you are Arthur’s support and his bedrock. You protect him when I ask. The stories of those victories. They seem miraculous and…magical,” she declared.

“Gwen, come on. It’s my pleasure. Arthur’s my friend and King. I….” he deflected. Chill ran up and down his spine.

“Yes well…Fancy that those Mercian knights were talking around the campfire. I asked them what happened that they were scattered and unconscious. They talked of coming upon Princess Mithian, her maid, Gawain and another man although they didn’t see his face. The last man spasmed as if having a seizure. Then he revealed himself as the old man. He waved his hands and dealt with them as easily as you please.” She nodded. “Much as that old man did in the throne room. And you knew about that?”
She looked him in the eye. “That was you. Wasn’t it?”

“Gwen.” He turned and bit his lip. Realization dawned across his mind over being caught.

“Merlin, it’s all right. I won’t tell Arthur or anyone else. I owe you so much. You stuck by me when everyone else pushed me aside. I’m your friend. So I’ll ask you. Do you have magic?” she assured him.

“Gwen.”

“Merlin, it’s all right. I just need to know. Your secret is safe with me,” she pushed.

He could tell that the jig was already up. She was giving him a chance to come clean. He exhaled. “Truth?”

“Yes, Merlin. Please.” She could already tell what the answer was from his hesitation. Still she wanted him to say it.

He wheeled back around to face her. “Flora.” His eyes glinted yellow. He opened his palm to reveal a white rose. “For our friendship.”

Her eyes twinkled. She smiled. “For our friendship.” She accepted the bloom and sniffed deeply of its scent. “That’s lovely. Thank you.” Acceptance’s tears drizzled down her cheeks. “To think you were doing this all along. Despite the risks?”

“Arthur and you all are my friends, Gwen. I can’t do any less,” he replied.

“That’s you all right,” she concurred. She kissed his cheek. “And as I said, I have your secret safe. You never have to worry about me.”

“I appreciate that, Gwen.”

She smirked at him. “Besides you have bigger things to think about than keeping the castle up. Don’t you?” She arched her eyebrow at him. “You need to think of becoming noble soon.”

“Gwen….”

She looked at him pointedly. “Merlin, Mithian loves you. You care for her. We all heard her offer back in Ealdor. Your mother and you deserve that. You make people happy. You should be happy too.”

“Arthur won’t let it happen. You know how he is,” he insisted.

“He won’t want it to happen. Still who says he’ll have a choice? From what Mithian said, Arthur owes her a favor. Now after that victory in Ealdor, neither he nor King Rodor would have a choice. Now it won’t happen overnight. Still give it time. Stranger things have come to pass,” she disagreed.

“Maybe. One day I’d like to be able to embrace the Princess openly. Maybe it’ll come,” he wished.

“Have faith in your friends, Merlin.” She embraced him. “We have faith in you. Maybe you can walk me out? I have a few belongings waiting by the gate. Priestess Ninane’s going to help me to wherever I choose.”

“That’s nice.” He smiled knowing that she’d indeed accepted and counted on magic. “Maybe though you could help me with something first? I was going to send some flowers back to Whitgate with Princess Mithian. Maybe you could give me some ideas?”

She giggled. “Why, Merlin! You are taken with her. Aren’t you? Of course I will. Let’s go.” She opened the door and led him toward the royal gardens in the courtyard below.

****

[Council Chamber]

Arthur sat in his seat at the Round Table and glanced at the ceiling. Fortunately every advisor made it through Morgana’s usurpation with nary a bruise or worse. The knights would ride out with him in two days’ time to check on the outlying areas. He determined not to let his subjects suffer from neglect or worse. The household staff already had set to work on cleaning up the castle and repairing any damage. Hopefully this will be the last time! Why is Morgana so dead set against me ruling? There’s a great deal of good we can do if we work together. That magic is fouling up her thinking!

Gaius had given him a complete checkup and a clean bill of health just before the meeting. He declared the healing to be ‘remarkable to say the least’. He had shuffled off to look in on his other patients after the meeting.

What’s the problem? I’m sure everything healed as it’s supposed to! He got up from his seat and walked over to the window. He gazed down upon the royal gardens. Fortunately Morgana, Helios and the Southrons had not the time to wreck damage upon the blooms and plants down there. He admired the roses, azaleas and cherry trees amidst the varied fauna in that courtyard. While he didn’t linger and wander amidst them, the blooms did remind him of someone who had done so….

…that is before he exiled her…

…Gwen….

He tapped his fingers on the window sill. Despite Regret’s bitter sting to his heart, he had no choice but to exile her. He had to push her away contrary to Instinct’s every protest to the contrary. He remembered her last march out of the gate dragging the weight-laden cart in her wake. Now however, she’d proven herself anew. (Granted it was to everyone else. He knew otherwise but now he could act differently of course.) He anticipated that she’d leave soon. He needed to let her know that things were different. He wanted her….no needed her to stay. She’s here somewhere. I’ll find her. I’ll ride the whole length of the kingdom if I have to!

“Sire? Is everything all right?” Mithian watched him from the chamber’s entrance. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to spy. I saw that you seem troubled. Is there anything I can help with?”

He forced a smile onto his face. Wish for the love of my life and get the woman I was supposed to marry. It’s ironic how life works. “The kingdom deals with the Southrons’ damage, Princess. We all have a great deal to do. I never got a chance to thank you for the help you and your father provided. Without your assistance, we would never be standing here. Truly Nemeth proves itself a worthy ally once again. So thank you.” He bowed respectfully to her.

She smiled. “King Rodor values Camelot as an ally as well. Surely if we are to survive, we have to stand together. But if I may put the courtly response aside, it is my genuine pleasure. I’m glad we can put the failures of the past further aside and move on in friendship. I would note that Guinevere informed us of your situation and requested our aid. She does have your loyalty and best interests at heart, Your Highness.”

He nodded. “The whole affair with Lancelot was unfortunate. As I now know it was Morgana’s doing, I can reverse the exile decree. It is most curious though.”

“Oh? And that would be?” She quirked her eyebrow. Curiosity lit up in her expression.

“The former fiancée taking the part of the woman I…well….I think you get the idea.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “This is difficult. But it speaks to your character, Princess, and virtue as well.”

“I do appreciate that, Sire. Thank you. I did hope to get some help with a diplomatic matter before I depart. Perhaps you might walk with me?” she requested.

He suppressed a frown. While he wanted to rush after Gwen and search everywhere, he knew Mithian deserved due consideration both as a friend and a diplomat. “If it is a quick matter, certainly.”

“Oh. I believe it will be resolved quickly. If you wish to follow me, we can take care of it. Then I can help you with what’s on your mind?” Seeing Surprise light up his face, she shrugged. “I’ve come to know that expression from our courtship. It’ll be my pleasure to help you again.”

“Then follow me,” Arthur agreed. He led them out of the chamber and toward the passage beyond.

Chapter Text

Chapter 14 [Royal Gardens]

Merlin and Gwen strolled out into the castle’s central paradise. The walk down from Arthur’s chamber had relaxed them. Rather than focus on her impending departure, they engaged in small talk. Furthermore she reminded him that his own desires weren’t impossible. When he went quiet, she picked his mood back up.

He offered her a wan smile. He prepared to deal with the inevitable lecture from Gaius. Perhaps Kilgarrah would snark at him over his desires as well. He worried about Arthur finding out and banning Mithian from Camelot. He wanted to think of other things. Anything but having his heart denied. He cleared his throat. “I thought of the lavender and white roses.”

“Oh? Any special reason?” Gwen supposed even though she already knew what he’d say.

He blushed. “I gathered them for her and made bouquets while she was here before. Gwen, I know I should be thinking of Arthur but….”

“Stop it, Merlin. Arthur can deal with you having other priorities. Besides I think it’s great that you remember Mithian’s preferences.” Her eyes twinkled at him. “And yes, I do believe you’re quite smitten with her.”

Embarrassment flushed his cheeks deep crimson. “And she loved the mountain laurel. Good luck digging that up though.”

“I think you can manage it, Merlin. Maybe Priestess Freya or Ninane can help?” she suggested. She sniffed deeply of a blooming cherry tree. “Mmmm! I’ve missed this! Maybe you can send one of these to where I end up?”

“I think I can get a sapling to you,” he concurred. He imagined her planting and tending such a tree in some distant village. He could almost see her with children letting them touch and smell from its blossoms.

Merlin? Mithian called through the link. Where are you? Arthur and I are looking for Gwen.

She’s here with me in the garden. Is the Royal Prat ready? Merlin supposed.

Somehow Mithian kept a straight face so as not to alert Arthur who was three steps in front of her. I believe he is. I found him in quite the mood. And Gwen?

She wants to stay. We’re by the cherry tree. Where are you? Merlin pointed out.

Just about to enter the garden. Do try and be smooth about it, Merlin. We don’t want to ruin the surprise. Now do we? Mithian retorted; Mirth flavored her tone.

Yeah…the surprise…I wish I could spring something else, Merlin hedged. Nervousness flared within him. Butterflies banged against his stomach for some reason.

Something else? Why, Merlin! Are we actually considering our feelings? Whatever will we do now? Mithian teased.

Ha. Ha. Very funny, Princess. I do know you’re around, Merlin rebutted.

Well I should hope so! I hate to think what I’d have to do otherwise, Mithian supposed. We’re just coming into the garden now.

Don’t worry. Like I said, I know you’re there. Merlin grinned. “Gwen, I’ll be right back. I just remembered something.”

Gwen raised an eyebrow. “Something? Like what?”

“Just something.” He grimaced to himself knowing how lame he sounded.

That was so elegant and polished, Master Warlock, Mithian chided.

Hey. I’m out in the middle of the marsh here! Merlin protested. He rushed off toward the ferns across the garden.

Gwen rolled her eyes. She didn’t press Merlin for an exact reason. Still after knowing him for much of the previous decade, she could tell when he was up to something. Maybe it’s magical? Like he could bring Arthur to his senses? Disappointment weighed at her heart and soul. Her eyes watered. Tears flowed down her cheeks.

Love needed a bond and only one pair’s matching up would do…..

****

[A Dozen Heartbeats Earlier]

Arthur emerged through the arched gateway into the garden proper. Although his father had disdained the place, Arthur had to admit that he had a tolerance for the plants and flowers therein. He’d allowed Gaius to raise a sizable plot of herbal plants in the northern most part of the area. He even found himself scaring up a smile when the female dignitaries enjoyed the various blooms in the summer. And then there was Merlin and his idiotic obsession with tending the daisies or whatever flowers caught his eye in a particular moment.

Still those all paled in light of his source. He remembered Gwen’s fascination for the cherry tree and its sweet smelling blossoms. He could see how she’d relax even on the most stressful of days. His mood lightened. Memoria told of his clandestine meetings with Gwen under the tree’s sanctuary flowers and then fruit. Only Luna knew of the rendezvous and she wasn’t telling a soul.

“We should be close by,” Mithian interjected. She leaned over to sniff of the mountain laurel’s blooms. “Sire, might I ask if any of this would be available to bring with me back to Whitgate? I miss the scent.”

“Of course. I’m sure Merlin would know. He spends way too much time here as it is,” he retorted not being able to resist the barb toward the servant.

“He has his purposes, I imagine. Master Gaius has his cures. Someone needs to tend these beautiful plants. They are the talk of the Five Kingdoms after all,” she insisted.

He coughed and then sneezed. “I’m sure their pollen is the talk as well.” He batted his hand in front of his face. “It would figure that Merlin would play with flowers. He’d be better served polishing my armor or my boots.”

“He’s a man of many talents, my Lord. You are truly fortunate to have him in your service,” she complimented.

“When he’s not tripping over his fat feet or the like,” he sniped back half-seriously. “So where is it? I…” He was aware of where they were. “This isn’t funny, Mithian.”

“Was I being humorous? Just keep going. I think you know your way to the cherry tree.” She motioned with her head. She smirked almost mischievously.

He sensed that she was up to something. He followed her motioning toward his beloved spot. His eyes went wide. His heart overwhelmed Ego’s bravado. His feet forgot the need for appearances. He rushed ahead. “Gwen?”

She froze. His voice tugged her between Emotion’s extremes. On the one hand, Desire burned in her heart. On the other hand, Dread and Depression numbed her. Rejection elicited quivering through her arms and body. She wiped her eyes off with the back of her hand. “Arthur, I’m sorry.”

He frowned. “Sorry about what, Gwen? You’re enjoying your favorite tree. What’s to be sorry about?”

“I know you only want me back here because of what happened. I’ll be leaving shortly,” she assured him.

He rolled his eyes. “Oh that. Yes well I’ve had reason to see things differently. You don’t have to leave…that is if you don’t want to.”

“Oh?” She shook her head. Disbelief muddled her thinking. She had to ask, “What about the exile? I won’t make you feel uncomfortable.”

He coughed. “Make me feel….? Why ever would you do that? I’ve felt so empty since you left. It’s only been the last few days that everything’s made sense again.” He bowed his head. “Gwen, I know you would have every right to slap me or deny me after what happened but….”

“But?” Interest sparked in her eyes.

“But there’s something I need to ask of you.” Hesitation and Anxiety tore through him. His throat parched. His tongue refused to spit out any words.

“Yes?” Hope prompted her to ask.

“I…Gwen, I….” He exhaled. He ran his hand through his hair. “I can’t believe this. I can make speeches and proclamations. Yet I can’t say this!”

“Just say it simply and be plain then,” she advised. “I’ll understand.” She squeezed her hands in his. “Just say it to me.”

He nodded numbly. “Gwen, I…just have so much I need to say. I’m sorry about what happened. I know court conventions need to be followed. Still I should have given you a chance. I just know what I want.”

“And what’s that?” she pressed.

“You.” He gulped. His knees threatened to buckle underneath him. He couldn’t feel his own feet. Strength ebbed and threatened to fail him. His eyes darted about Eden’s expanse seeking Inspiration’s grace. Not Rose, Daffodil, Lilac or Marigold could reach him. Tulip, Apple and Laurel lacked the needed support. Sol’s sparkle seemed like a dim secondary star unable to penetrate the fog.

All he felt was her hands in his….

All he saw was her eyes sparkling into his….

All he knew was his heart beating with hers…..

“Arthur, it’s all right.” She rubbed his arm.

“Gwen, I just want….I want you to marry me.” He snorted at himself. “I can’t believe I sound like such an idiot! I don’t have your ring. I don’t know what happened….”

Somehow she didn’t faint. Joy surged through her. She trembled. Her chest felt the ring’s warmth against her heart. “YES! YES! I want nothing more than that!” She pulled on the necklace revealing the ring. She took it off and presented it to him. “Please, Arthur. Put it on my finger. I can’t wait another heartbeat.” She extended the other hand.

He nodded. His fingers slowly pushed the precious bauble onto her right hand. Then he closed said hand. His lips whispered Amor’s gentle message across her knuckles. Relief lifted the burden from his heart and soul. “We’ll address that as soon as possible.”

“Thank you,” Gwen expressed; a giant dreamy smile spreading across her face. She pulled him to herself. “I would’ve left but…I don’t know how….”

“Don’t. You never have to think about that again.” Arthur returned the embrace with his own. Love refreshed his strength. “I need you here with me. I know that if nothing else.” He chuckled. “Still if not for the deception of a certain Idiot servant.” He shook his head. “Merlin?”

“Yes, Sire?” Merlin called from behind a pillar.

“Even if Princess Mithian got me here, this has you all over it,” Arthur jabbed. Still his eyes glinted in Appreciation at his servant. “You always had faith. Didn’t you?”

“Sometimes it takes another set of eyes to see things,” Merlin continued. Or another perspective. His eyes met those of his Princess across the courtyard for a long heartbeat.

That it does. Mithian stood resolutely. Her eyes watched. Perspective granted her many things. Satisfaction filled her. Duty fulfilled her. Hope pressed for more. Longing lingered however….

…for her Warlock…for her Desired Prince….

We will have our moment, Merlin. Don’t despair, Mithian told him.

I can hope. I know now that it’s possible. Merlin nodded almost imperceptibly to her.

Arthur missed the exchange but Gwen didn’t. Even as she savored her own realized bliss, she could see other signs. She saw Ardor in Merlin’s eyes for Mithian. She hugged Arthur tighter still. Thank you for this. I know what I need to. Affirmation set itself in her mind. As you both fought for us, I will make Arthur see. You both live to serve others. You sacrifice for us. There will be a time for you too.

“We’ll call the court together. I don’t want this to wait another day,” Arthur declared. “Merlin, you can get the preparations together?”

“At once!” Merlin grinned. He rushed toward the door. In his haste, his feet caught the cornice. He stumbled but managed to catch himself. “Sorry!” His feet barely touched the stones underfoot as he hurried away.

“Perhaps I should send someone else? Knowing Merlin, he won’t be able to do it,” Arthur doubted albeit with a smile.

“He values your happiness, Sire. Perhaps we might follow and see what he does?” Mithian suggested. A smirk pulled at the sides of her mouth. “Maybe we might even manage a meal…or plan breakfast perhaps?” Her eyes twinkled at Arthur.

Gwen looked to Arthur. “Breakfast?”

Arthur exhaled. He rolled his eyes at Mithian’s reference. “It’s a long story. Merlin planned that meal too.”

“He does that,” Gwen agreed. “Shall we lend a hand then?” She took Arthur’s hand in her own and led him toward the passage.

Mithian sighed. She gazed upon the mountain laurel and the blooming cherry tree. Her heart warmed. Accordingly Hope budded as well. With that, she followed the newly-reengaged couple.

Purpose had to be met after all…..

Chapter Text

Chapter 15 [Next Morning]
[Arthur’s Chamber]

Arthur stood at the window. His eyes gazed out across the walled town underneath his perch. Then he surveyed the greenery and trees beyond the walls continuing on toward and disappearing on the horizon. He clenched his fists and opened them again. He knew Opportunity awaited him and the others. Question was how to meet it sufficiently. Will I be a good husband? I let her go once. I can do it. Gwen believes in me. I can do this.

A knock at the door broke into his reverie.

He cleared his throat. Insight and Perspective proved welcome handmaidens to Distraction on that day. His mind wanted to keep pressing on and seeing more. Still Duty bade him back toward the world and the wondrous task ahead. He gazed toward the door.

Merlin cleared his throat. In years previous, he might’ve interjected a wisecrack or jest. Still Maturity held him back. He preferred instead to watch and admire the man and King in front of himself. Even if he’d never admit it, Pride swelled in his heart for Arthur at that moment. He stood and simply watched.

“You do want something, I imagine?” Arthur supposed.

“It’s almost time, Arthur. Figured you might need a reminder,” Merlin replied. “The sun glitters nicely on the wardrobe.”

Arthur coughed. “Yes it does.” He strode over. He swiped his finger across the varnished oak and considered it. “The dust stands out quite well it seems.”

“It must be from the other tasks assigned by a certain someone. I wonder who’d that be?” Merlin pointed out. Without missing a beat, he opened the wardrobe. He laid out the cape, belt, sword and crown on the bed. “These things were where I told you they’d be. Funny. You didn’t know.”

“My mind’s elsewhere today,” Arthur insisted. “Since it’s a moment you engineered, I figured you’d know that.”

“I just see what’s in front of me,” Merlin jabbed. He pulled the belt around his friend’s waist and secured it.

“Is that before or after you trip over it with those fat feet?” Arthur countered.

“Probably after you trip me, I imagine.” Merlin secured his liege’s cape around the latter’s shoulders. He held the Crown in front of himself, “One more touch.”

Arthur nodded. He’d never thank Merlin aloud. No he’d never live that one down. Instead he accepted the Crown. His eyes met his servant’s in silent gratitude. He set it on his head. “You knew. Didn’t you?”

“Knew what?” Merlin straightened the robes.

“You knew Gwen and I were meant for this moment. Didn’t you?” Arthur asked. He tensed. Nerves stiffened him.

“Faith works wonders. I know Gwen. I know you. I believe in Camelot and you all. I believe in what you’d bring about. Patience is a key even if a certain Prat doesn’t recognize it right away,” Merlin explained.

Arthur regarded Merlin. He shook his head. “You never cease to amaze me, Merlin. Most of the time, you’re the biggest idiot that ever was. It’s at moments like this however that this wisdom comes out of nowhere.”

“Guess miracles happen. Kind of like certain Kings getting to the chamber on time?” Merlin fired back. “I think Gwen and Percival are waiting.”

“Waiting for you to get us both ready, you mean.” Arthur cuffed the other’s arm playfully. “Let’s get there then. They’ll all die of boredom and old age if you dictate the pace, Merlin.” He grinned and tugged the other from his chamber.

Some things it seemed wouldn’t change…..

****

[Outside of the Throne Chamber—A Chime or So Later]

Merlin hustled down the passage. He’d finally managed to make Arthur stand still (without magical means) long enough to dress him. Then he guided the King down to his spot by the door. Wish he could do that for himself. Maybe someday George will have to. He sighed imagining well the near hellish meltdown that would ensue….

…and all over dull silver polishing…. Ah yes, that silver polishing and stiff arse chamberlain stuff….

Arthur would so love that…..

Someday you’re going to have to deal with it. Merlin reached the door.

“Merlin?”

He turned to find Gwen standing with two of the lower ranking knights. “Gwen, what’s going on? Are you all right?” He admired her lavender silken gown with the fine golden trim. Her hair streamed down her back after being carefully ministered to.

“Just nervous. What if…?” Gwen confessed. She bit her lip. Anxiety clearly played across her face.

Merlin smiled. “Gwen, I just left the King. Everything’s right according to plan. Have faith.” He squeezed her hand. Then he did a deep bow. “Your Soon to Be Highness.”

Gwen sighed deeply. “You’re making fun of me.”

“No.” His eyes sparkled into hers. He raised and kissed her hand. “I’m your friend. And yeah, I’m lightening the mood a bit. You’re going to be great. Just remember, Gwen, Arthur loves you. We all care about you. We‘re ready to support you.”

She smiled at him. “And I will support you all. Thank you, Merlin.”

“As I said, that’s what friends do for each other. Right?” Merlin supposed.

“Indeed we do. Don’t change, Merlin. Ever,” Gwen agreed. She motioned with her eyes. “I believe you’d better get in there now. I need to get married sometime this year.”

“Yeah. That.” Merlin smirked and scooted into the chamber.

Gwen exhaled. Some of Tension’s grip evaporated with Merlin’s help. Yes Arthur and I are definitely not alone. Neither, Merlin, are you. Thank you. I’ll be there for you too when the time comes.

****

[Throne Chamber]

Despite the last minute nature of the proceedings, the main chamber stood ready for the ceremony. Streamers hung from the walls. Flowers sat in pots along the chamber’s edge. Braziers burned in each corner of the area. Two thrones instead of one sat on the platform. Incense wafted through the air. Camelot’s nobles and their guests lined the space before the dais.

Affirmation and Confirmation loomed over all. Each waiting for their time. Each wanting Opportunity and Grace to convey them to Fulfillment’s place….

****

Gawain narrowed his eyes at the proceedings. Granted he anticipated the required celebration afterwards with mandatory casks involved. He scratched at the overly soaped tunic under his chain mail. Frankly he felt so clean that he wanted to jump in a mud patch to be honest. He ignored his brothers-in-arms at the moment choosing instead to focus on Percival. “Hey, Percy. What’s shaking?”

“Gawain.” Percival glanced at the irreverent knight. “Just thinking about what’s about to happen. I’m happy for Arthur and Gwen.”

“Yeah? Well they can have the whole ball and chain thing. Too much stuff involved,” Gawain declared. He made a face to emphasize his point.

“Perhaps.” Percival smirked. “Still that ‘stuff’ tends to take care of itself if you have the right woman.”

“Like what Blanche does for you? Yeah. A good pint would fix that at the tavern, Mate,” Gawain dismissed. “You might do that for your new guys, Percy.”

“If all goes well, I plan to.” Percival motioned toward Mithian. “You might keep an eye on how things go there with her.”

“What?” Gawain curled his lip. “Mith’s already got her mind made up.”

Percival coughed. He’d seen some evidence of that himself. Blancheflor had affirmed that in private between themselves. “Yes well those things do take care of themselves. I was thinking though of your future. Camelot’s still a fine place. Somehow though I think Nemeth might offer you more than here.”

“Yeah? And what about Mercia? Presumin’ that ol’ Arthur releases you?” Gawain supposed.

“I’d find you a place in my army.” Percival motioned across the aisle. “And a wife too. Perhaps Mercian. Perhaps….” He grinned. “Perhaps I’d speak to Princess Mithian and King Rodor in that regard?”

Gawain saw the flash of red hair. “Percy, you’re gettin’ as bad as Merlin. There’s nothin’ there.”

“Perhaps.” Percival motioned with his eyes toward Britomart and then to Gawain.

Britomart bowed and turned away toward Blancheflor.

“You two are just as bad as one another,” Percival declared.

“Yeah. Whatever Blanche’s got you on, it must be good stuff, Percy. You just keep thinkin’ that,” Gawain dismissed. Denial maintained a tight mask over his face. Freedom screamed to push her away. Yet Cupid would not allow himself to be totally shoved away. Instead the nymph contented himself to watch and stalk the quarry for the moment.

****

Britomart squinted down at the stones around her feet. Even if she didn’t really drop anything, she wasn’t about to allow Gawain some floor show there. She well knew how Gossip frequently visited and lied its way around royal courts. She wouldn’t allow a certain churl of a knight to brag about imagined conquests at her expense either.

“Lost that button again, did you?” Mithian supposed. Mischief smirked prominently across her face. She arched her eyebrow and coughed. She glanced at Blancheflor and shrugged.

“Perhaps she should have Wyndred sew it on this time?” Blancheflor asked playing along. Her eyes met Percival’s across the aisle. She simply nodded to him. “Perhaps you’d like some help finding it?”

“Nay, Milady. I believe I have it.” Britomart made a show of clenching her fist around nothing and stuffing it into a pocket. She straightened herself. “I shall indeed visit Wyndred on our return to Whitgate, Lady Blancheflor. That is if I have your permission, Milady?”

“I believe we can find time for such pursuits. I’d never keep you from looking your best in certain regards. Now would I?” Mithian agreed.

“You’re always very kind. Thank you,” Britomart expressed. She kept her eyes riveted on the dais. Her face remained as red as her hair.

Seems Courtship planted its seeds well in that room…..

****

Merlin slipped into the chamber. With Arthur’s nerves and last minute wardrobe changes, it had taken longer to dress his sovereign. In addition, he’d offered the waiting Gwen a reaffirming pep talk. He could almost feel Impatience’s presence hanging in the air like mid summer’s humidity. He slid along the chamber’s edge and past the assembled nobles.

You do take your time. Don’t you, Merlin? Mithian teased.

You know the Once and Future Prat. He can’t decide on what wristbands to wear without a big fuss, he complained half-seriously.

She snorted but somehow managed to cover it with a cough. From the failed engagement, she well knew of Arthur’s stumblings behind the royal façade. She also knew of how Merlin was always there to prop up the Young Pendragon (even if the King himself would never admit it). You are terrible.

“Milady?” Britomart wondered.

“Nothing. Just something in my throat,” Mithian assured the maid. Just get over there. I think Master Gaius is ready to have you hunted down.

Going. I wish though I was standing with you right now, Merlin relented.

One day, my Warlock. One day we will stand before my father in Whitgate. I will come to you. And only to you. You hold my Promise, Mithian affirmed. Her eyes met his for a brief heartbeat sealing that particular empathic accord.

Merlin nodded. If only it could be today! Think Percival, Blancheflor, Gwen and Arthur. He slid into the right row and stood beside the aged physician.

“What kept you? Is Arthur all right?” Gaius lectured.

“He was dealing with matters of inner state you might say,” Merlin replied albeit cryptically. “The jitters.”

“Ah I see.” Gaius nodded at the answer. “I hope he’s ready though.”

“I left him right outside. I just hope he doesn’t trip over his cloak though.” Merlin looked about the room. Through the various dignitaries’ faces, he could tell Gaius had pinned the mood correctly. “And Gwen’s outside too. I reassured her. Got to do our duty to the future Queen too, right?”

Gaius’ expression softened. “Yes. We do indeed.” He relented with a smile.

Let’s just hope everything’s according to plan. Merlin crossed his fingers and waited with everyone else.

Chapter Text

Chapter 16

Barely two heartbeats after everyone was in place, Reginald, the royal herald, stuck his head out of the door and into the hallway. Receiving some bit of Affirmation’s response, he cleared his throat. Raising the horn to his lips, he blew several loud notes from its polished surface. Then he called out, “PEOPLE OF CAMELOT, I GIVE YOU OUR KING, ARTHUR PENDRAGON!”

Arthur strode into the chamber. Somehow Dignity kept his steps straight. He didn’t roll his eyes or otherwise react as he might’ve wanted to on the inside. Truth be told, he’d rather have eloped with Gwen and be done with it. There were wars to wage, subjects to reassure and treaties to negotiate.

For Gwen though, he’d go through Hell or this bureaucratic stuff which passed for it. Formality had to have its due after all.

He tried to maintain the care with his steps much as Uther had shown him. He scuffled ever so slightly. His eyes caught Merlin stifling a cough or chuckle just before the audience bowed or gave the royal nods. Cute, Merlin. Just wait. He allowed himself the slightest of smiles at his brewing plan. For the moment, however, he raised his hands. “Thank you! Please rise!”

The assembled lords and ladies rose from their knees. Their eyes remained riveted to him.

Arthur allowed himself a heartbeat to consider the next move. Then he pressed on. “We are here to celebrate many things. As you all know, we have survived a crisis. We are here because of strength of arms and the love we all share for each other. We have alliances that matter between kingdoms. That in itself will enable us to survive! I am here because of all of you! We are here to celebrate!”

“And we celebrate you, Sire!” Leon called out. “Huzzah! Huzzah!”

“HUZZAH! HUZZAH!” everyone called out in unison.

Merlin somehow kept a straight face. He forgets about the goddess and the priestesses’ help. I haven’t.

We know, Merlin. It’s appreciated, Freya assured him. Guinevere offers her thanks even now. The mother acknowledges your support. She knows. So do we.

Thanks, Freya. Merlin smiled. He relaxed ever so slightly. Perhaps Arthur still remained somewhat reticent in certain aspects of Duty. He and some of the others in the chamber however did not.

“I appreciate that. Part of that is support to a brother in arms in his time of need. Normally I’d let it stand until after the main matter of state ahead of us. However a special person requested he not wait another chime,” Arthur continued. “He came to us during the last siege of Camelot. He risked life and limb to assist us in destroying the accursed Druid Cup of Life. He asked nothing in return save to serve. I have recently learned of his feats during the battle at Ealdor. By the laws of this land, I have reason to celebrate. Sir Percival of Riversmore, please step forth!”

Percival stepped away from the other knights. He walked calmly toward Arthur. When he reached the dais, he bowed. “Sire?”

“Percival, it is reported that you faced King Cedric of Mercia in single combat. You defeated him. Did you not?” Arthur asked.

“I did. I tried to show mercy. He offered no choice. I slew him by the rules of the duel,” Percival reported.

“Indeed. Sir Reynald has shared as much. By Mercian law, it seems you have another obligation now. I would not deny you that.” He drew Excalibur from its scabbard. He touched his knight on the left shoulder. “I release you from your service. Go and be the best King to your people, Percival. Just remember we in Camelot will always be your friends and allies. If you ever have need, you send word.” Arthur held his hand out.

“I will not hesitate in that regard. Forgive me if my first thought is for my adopted people now.” Percival turned and looked to the Mercian delegation standing toward the back of the room. He bowed to them. “I honor you as well.”

Reynald nodded. He bowed his head. In spite of himself, a slight smile broke out across his face.

“And I believe Princess Mithian has something to say as well?” Arthur called out.

Mithian stepped forward. She glanced toward Blancheflor and nodded. Then she walked with Dignity’s cadence toward Arthur and Percival. “Thank you, King Arthur.” She nodded to him. Then she turned to Percival. “It seems I have congratulations to offer you as well, Your Highness. The respect for your people comes as no surprise to those who know and consider you as friend. Your feats and valor are well known to us in Whitgate as well. Speaking on behalf of King Rodor, I would offer my friendship and that of Nemeth’s to Camelot’s offer. You have many friends.”

“I know that, Princess. Thank you for the reminder,” Percival accepted.

“My father offers you a gift. We have awaited this day for many seasons. There is someone who awaits you and your shared duty. If I may, King Arthur?” Mithian continued.

“Indeed you should,” Arthur agreed.

Mithian smiled. “In accordance with previous assent by King Rodor of Nemeth, I, Princess Mithian, do release Lady Blancheflor from her service to us. We would have Mercia as our ally and friend not with the yoke of insubfeudation but as neighbor, ally and equal friend.” She motioned to Blancheflor. “Step forward and accept our gift.”

Blancheflor stumbled slightly. After so long, she could dare not believe that her wait had ended. She sucked in a deep breath and kept going. “I was going to approach the King upon our return. He is most generous. As are you, my Princess.” She curtseyed.

Mithian smiled. “Yours is the generosity, Lady Blancheflor. Percival and you sacrificed your time for all of our sakes. You never asked for anything or showed any hesitation. Now we can give back to you both. Now we can offer you another platform on which to serve the Greater Good.” She offered a sealed and rolled parchment scroll. “May your achievement today bring forth other such graces.”

“May it do so. And may your kindness and Nemeth’s be repaid one day, my Dear Friend.” Blancheflor accepted. Gratitude’s tears glistened in her eyes. She stood and leaned close to Mithian. “As it will one day for you. Be patient. We will stand ready to aid that cause,” she whispered.

“We can hope,” Mithian replied in another whisper. Then she stepped back. “I believe your King awaits you.”

“If I am her King then she is my Queen, Princess,” Percival noted. He embraced his Lady. “After so long.”

“At last. We have each other and our people,” Blancheflor agreed. Her eyes glistened into his. She kissed him. “We will continue this matter in Mercia. We will honor the customs there.”

“We shall. Once more, thank you, King Arthur. I would not keep you waiting any longer. Our good friend awaits her turn. Does she not?” Percival expressed.

Arthur smiled. The thought of Gwen brought a smile to his face. “Indeed she does. Remember, Percival, we are brothers ever so. As Princess Mithian said, Camelot would not ask Mercia to bow to us. If you wish a treaty to that regard, the royal seal will go on that soon.”

“Brothers then. For the good of all,” Percival clasped arms with his former liege once more. He then took Blancheflor’s hand. “I believe now we should look to your good.” He offered another royal nod. Then they walked back to the other Mercians.

Applause for the couple echoed throughout the chamber. The assembled mass knew well of their worth and appreciated them for it. Hope expressed itself for a better future as well.

Arthur set his jaw as the applause died down. He clenched his fists and unclenched them again. He motioned to the back of the chamber. “And now we go on to the main affair before us today. Service can also raise those in servile status to higher places. At this court, the law allows for those who achieve levels of Duty and Service to rise to noble status. Today we see a truly special servant achieve her due reward. Today we name our good friend Queen. I take her in marriage. Will she come forth? GUINEVERE!”

The doors opened.

The collected heads turned. Some whispered oohs and aahs.

Gwen stepped into the chamber. She strode down the aisle neither looking left or right. She could almost feel the mixed emotions to the unfolding events in that chamber. Still she didn’t care. Her eyes found and remained on her King and Love. After Turmoil’s difficulty and the chill of Exile, she had her place at last. She sighed. Thank you, goddess.

Thank you, my Child, the triple goddess expressed. Go forth and do your service.

She smiled and pressed on. With six more strides, she stood before Arthur. She curtseyed before him. “Your Highness.”

His eyes glistened to her. “You know why we’re here today?”

“I do.” Her head remained bowed. Her heart beat like a drunken drummer. She barely managed to keep her voice straight.

“And you swear to serve Camelot before all else? You promise to remain faithful to your people and King over all others?” Arthur posed the required questions despite already knowing her answers.

“I do without hesitation or reservation,” she affirmed.

Arthur nodded toward his left. He waited for Geoffrey of Monmouth to carry the Queen’s throne to him. Then he accepted and raised it over his head. “Then by the laws of Camelot, I crown you Guinevere.” He set the gilded crown on her head. “Guinevere, Queen of Camelot. Please rise.” He held his hand out to her.

She almost jumped up. Somehow though she kept her poise. She managed to take his hand and rise smoothly. She kept her eyes on him. She leaned toward him and pressed her lips to his. She allowed Amor to play its most serene and long overdue symphony for their benefit. Then she followed his lead onto the dais. She stood to his left. Her hand clasped in her most loved King’s.

“LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!” Arthur called out.

Merlin beat everyone else by a half of a heartbeat. “LONG LIVE THE QUEEN! LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!”

Everyone fell in with quick acceptance. The affirmation shook the hall and gladdened hearts.

Such ways were present matters put forward in great ways. Perhaps future precedents as well….

Chapter Text

Chapter 17 [Wedding Feast—Several Hours Later]
[A/N: Poor Merlin…sigh….]

The congratulations and buzz pressed on after the coronation ceremony. Buzz echoed throughout the castle’s walls and stairs. The household staff pushed the tables into place and set many places along their length and breadth. Platters of capon, pork and beef weighed on the table. Vegetables and fruit also were in plentiful supply as was the wine. Minstrels played for the gathering group.

A meal fit for a Queen, it seemed…..

****

Mithian sipped on a goblet of wine. She appreciated the delicate spice and flavors imparted to the meal by Audrey and her expert kitchen crew. She talked with the other dignitaries as they encountered each other. Of course she offered another round of congratulations to Percival and Blancheflor on their happiness. She watched the affair in all of its complexity.

So many revelers. So many servants.

Still she didn’t see Merlin.

What? Where is he? Certainly Arthur wouldn’t have left him out of these proceedings! She surveyed the room once more. Still she found nary a trace of him. She frowned.

“Something wrong, Milady?” Britomart asked upon seeing her expression.

“Hmm? I hope not.” Mithian looked to her maid. “Have you seen Merlin?”

Britomart shook her head. “Not since the ceremony earlier. Wait. I did see something.” She scratched her head. “King Arthur handed Merlin a box. Merlin opened it and gave the most peculiar look. Then he hustled off. Milady, Merlin wasn’t happy.” She glanced around. “Perhaps I should ask the knights?”

“No. I’ll ask the King myself. Thank you, Britomart.” She patted the other’s arm. “Please enjoy yourself. You’ve done enough for the time being.” She smiled. “Experiences like this aren’t just for service. They’re to enjoy as well.”

“You are most gracious. I thank you.” Britomart bowed and departed for the servants’ table.

Yes. Most gracious indeed. Mithian sipped on her goblet. Merlin? Merlin, are you all right?

I’m okay. Just can’t believe he’d do this *now*, Merlin complained. I’m in the back. Arthur’s got me doing something. I can’t talk about it to anyone. It’s a special surprise or so he says.

Really? She picked up on his mood. Arthur didn’t threaten you? That’s not like him.

Yeah well…he could make life miserable for me. I don’t want any more stalls to muck out, he told her.

I’ll find out myself. It will be all right, Merlin. She stood and walked up to the head table. There she found Arthur and Gwen enjoying their food and the music.

“Sire and Queen Guinevere, once again, congratulations. Thank you for this hospitality,” Mithian expressed.

“It’s our pleasure, Princess. I still feel as if I’m dreaming,” Gwen told her.

“Oh I can assure you that you’re awake,” Arthur assured her. “And I’m glad you’re having a good time, Princess Mithian. Part of celebrating is making sure that our friends are enjoying themselves.” He looked around the room. “Good music, good food and great companionship. Now that’s what life’s about!”

“Indeed, Sire,” Mithian agreed. “Speaking of companions, where’s Merlin? It is quite odd that he’s not around especially on your glorious day.”

“I find that strange myself,” Gwen agreed.

“I have him working on a special task for us,” he told them. “It should be quite entertaining.” He gulped from his goblet. “George, more mead.”

“Of course, Your Highness! Anything for you!” George leapt up. He poured (actually overflowed) both hosts’ goblets. Enthusiasm seeped from every pore in his body. He rubbed his nose. “Goodness me! Forgive me, Sire. Something seems to be clogging up my nose.”

Mithian coughed. For some reason, she swore she could see his face taking on a brownish tinge. Goddess, I’m grateful Britomart isn’t like this. “Yes. It seems to be dry in here.”

Arthur shook his arm and stained sleeve. He grimaced. “Ermm….yes. George, that will be all.”

George bowed and retreated back to his place by the door.

“You can’t fault his enthusiasm,” Gwen assessed. She sipped from the goblet. Unfortunately said sip turned into a slurp. “I don’t want to spill.”

“Yes. George does go a little far some times,” he admitted. “Still I think it’s time.” He stood and clapped his hands.

The two female royals looked queerly at each other and then at Arthur. They didn’t get what Arthur was up to. And how did it involve Merlin?

Mithian clearly picked up on Merlin’s feelings. Anxiety and Embarrassment hit her senses especially hard.

As Arthur signaled, everything came to a stop. Everyone turned toward him.

Arthur inhaled and started in, “Yes well, I hope you’re all enjoying yourselves. It is quite the evening all told. I prepared a special surprise for us. During our recent trip to Ealdor, Merlin disguised us in quite interesting fashion. He’s agreed to show his ingenuity tonight….”

Mithian winced. Oh no. He’s not….

He is. He’s making me do it, Merlin complained.

“…Merlin, get out here!” Arthur bade.

For several heartbeats, nothing happened. All stayed quiet.

Gaius’ eyes met Mithian’s. He glanced down at Gawain and Percival who were casting queer looks at the head table too. What is he doing?

Merlin walked slowly into the chamber. He forced his eyes to remain straight ahead. He wore a dark black commoner’s dress. A rope cinched it about his waist. A bit of makeup colored his face white. His bare feet endured the sharp stones’ edges underfoot. He ignored everyone’s stares. He heard a few cat calls and jeers. He somehow kept his face perfectly straight.

Mithian somehow bit back a response. She leaned against the wall. Horror numbed her. Her mouth dropped.

“Arthur, really?” Gwen asked.

“Merlin can deal with it. He wants to do this. Don’t you, Merlin?” Arthur put forward.

“Sure, Sire. Why not?” Merlin replied mock-compliantly. He stared at the floor. Embarrassment surged through him. Somehow he restrained himself from casting a retaliatory spell. He sucked in a burning breath. “What…then…what is the pleasure of the court?”

Arthur’s eyes gleamed. Pleasure and Payback clearly showed from them. “Juggle, Merlin. Show us that balance.”

“Juggle.” Merlin walked over to the box of small white balls. He grabbed four of them. Then he threw them in the air. He allowed his eyes to glint. With that magical assist, he could move the balls gracefully. For a few dozen heartbeats, he kept it up. Then he caught the balls one by one. He dropped each one to the floor. He turned to the head table. “Is that all, Sire?”

Arthur sipped on his goblet. “Let me think. What do you think, Gawain? Merlin put you in a dress too.”

Gawain slapped the table. “What do I think? WHAT DO I THINK?” Rage shook him. “This is bullocks! Yeah I wanted Merlin to do something. Wear the dress around the castle for a day or something? Okay. We tease ol’ Merlin a bit. Fine!” His eyes narrowed. “Well I ain’t puttin’ up with this!” He crawled under the table. He stalked toward his friend. “It’s all good, Merlin.”

“Gawain, don’t. I don’t want you in the stocks or the dungeon. Don’t…” Merlin begged.

“Yeah well, it ain’t the first time!” Gawain snapped. He bowed to the table. “Gwen, I’m sorry.” He turned back to Merlin. “Let’s get you changed and cleaned up.” His eyes blazed daggers at the head table.

Mithian cleared her throat. Her eyes met Britomart’s and motioned toward the door. As her maid rushed after the duo, she staggered back to her seat. Merlin, I’m sorry. We didn’t know.

I know, Princess. I’m…I’m…. Merlin accepted.

Don’t you dare apologize! You did as well as you could. Unreal! Mithian assured him. Then she took a pained gulp from her goblet. His pain and shame overwhelmed her. She knew that everyone watched her reaction. Perhaps she should have cared. Frankly she didn’t. I stood there and let it happen. What does that make me? She set her jaw. Then she rose from her seat and pushed it back in. “With apology, I think I’ve had as much of the hospitality as I care for. King Arthur and Queen Guinevere, thank you and good night.” She marched out of the chamber.

“What?” Arthur wondered aghast at her reaction.

Gwen cleared her throat. “Yes well. I think I understand. Arthur, really?”

Arthur shook his head. “Honestly! It’s only a dress.” He motioned for the party to continue.

The musicians played on. More food and drink flowed. Still the mood had definitely soured.

Funny what a mistimed joke could do….

Chapter Text

Chapter 18 [Physician’s Chamber—A Sixth Turn of the Hourglass Later]

Merlin sucked in a composing breath. He leaned up against the wall opposite to the Physician’s Chamber. During the walk back, he’d managed to soothe his own feelings. Still Regret badgered his mind. He shook his head. “I ruined everything.”

“Excuse me?” Britomart snapped. “You ruined it?” She looked to Gawain.

Gawain snorted. “Bloody Arthur! Let’s the horseplay get out of hand. Nah. He ruined it. Gwen isn’t going to be pissed at you.” He eased the door open. “Got anything in here?”

“No ale or whiskey if that’s what you mean,” Merlin declined. “I’ll be okay.” He took a damp rag and wiped his face off.

“You dressed King Arthur and him up to get them by the Southrons. You had a reason,” she insisted. She poured some water from the pitcher on Gaius’ table into a wooden cup. “Here.”

“Thanks a lot for reminding me of that,” Gawain complained.

“It suited you,” she jabbed him back. “I really think you could stand some lavender tea to calm your nerves, Merlin.”

“I’ll be fine. Thanks. I don’t want you both getting in trouble for me,” Merlin declined. He accepted the cup and took a gulp from it.

“I’m not in trouble. Princess Mithian sent me after you two. Sir Gawain’s always making trouble so he should be expert at dealing with it by now,” she assured him.

“Oh yeah. Right,” Gawain retorted. He squinted at her. “And Mith sent you…why?”

“Gawain, it’s all right.” Merlin rubbed his head. He felt Mithian’s presence coming toward them in the passage. He got up and muddled across the chamber toward the door.

“Merlin, what part of sit down don’t you understand?” she called after him.

“He doesn’t.” Gawain watched his friend carefully. “Merlin, what the Hell?”

At that point, a sharp rapping came from the door.

Merlin motioned toward the door. Then he opened it to find Mithian staring at him. “Yes, Princess? I’ve caused a diplomatic incident now. Come in. Please.” He sulked.

“Milady, we’ve tried to tell him it wasn’t his fault,” Britomart informed her mistress. “I can’t believe King Arthur would do this.”

“He does get that way with Merlin.” Mithian examined Merlin carefully.

“He doesn’t mean anything by it. You know that,” Merlin rebutted.

Mithian snorted. “Such as at the picnic where he moved you all over the place until I put my foot down?” Her eyebrow raised. Her eyes sparked. Her mouth twisted into a sharp frown effectively stopping his argument in its tracks. “Merlin, for everything you do for him, you don’t deserve this! Please!”

“Princess, I…he….” Merlin sighed. He looked to Gawain.

“Hey! Don’t look at me! I’m with Mith and well….” Gawain motioned to Britomart. “…her for once.”

“Sir Gawain, enough,” Mithian chided. She embraced Merlin. “I want to take you back to Nemeth tonight. Between this and the trial, Father will give you sanctuary. Arthur wouldn’t give chase just for you.”

Gawain coughed. “Wanna bet? I know better.” He stared out the window toward the starry darkness overhead. “Even if we started now, they’d ride us down before we reach Gedref. Not a chance. Besides you want legal stuff. Right?”

“Legal yes. Still I won’t have Merlin abused into a pile of wax! Am I clear?” Mithian retorted. “We have the argument now!” She pointed across the room. “He’s proven himself how many times here? He has the three tasks for Nemeth! Perhaps if he does one more for Percival and Blancheflor, he’ll have his three for Mercia too?”

“Hey. I’m with you!” Gawain rubbed his forehead. “I don’t get how he didn’t pull something on Arthur. Vinegar in the goblet? Maybe some manure or a nail on his chair?”

“Gawain, that causes more trouble than it solves,” Merlin told them. “I saw Gwen looking at him. He’s in trouble.” He exhaled. “But you’re in trouble. He won’t stand for you disrespecting him like that.”

“I’m a big boy. I can take it just like you did,” Gawain insisted. “He asked me. I told him off but he gave me permission. He punishes me…he’ll tick off people. He wants a treaty with Percy and Blanche. He saw Mith leavin’. He better smarten up.” He frowned. “I’m tempted to tell him to kiss off. Then I’d leave.”

“And then what?” Merlin moped. He ran his hands through his hair. “We’re supposed to overcome problems. Tonight was supposed to be a celebration for Arthur and Gwen! Instead it’s turned into a giant mess.”

“That was Arthur’s doing not yours, Merlin,” Mithian pointed out. “He chose to act like the immature idiot that he accuses you of being. You and he tease and harass each other. I may not care for it but that is between you both. In private and within certain constraints, that’s the case. What you did with the disguise, you had a reason. You needed to keep Arthur and Sir Gawain alive and get everyone to Ealdor. As for tonight…well…I think Sir Gawain summed it up nicely.” She embraced him. “You might have embarrassed him by what you did. Still you were only doing your duty with what you had at hand, Merlin. You were just being you.”

Merlin felt a glimmer of warmth wafting through his core. He looked up into Mithian’s eyes. Reassurance pulled away Doubt’s blinders. He breathed in deeply. “I was?”

“Yes. You were.” She kissed him. Intensely. For several heartbeats, she kept it up. Then she backed away. “That merited a reward of sorts.”

Merlin gasped. He stumbled back into the table knocking it and the tomes on it askew. “I…wow!”

“You’ve been kissed before. Right?” Gawain rolled his eyes. Disbelief lit up his face. He yanked Merlin to his feet. “Well that is what being free and being with a knockout woman is about.”

“And why aren’t you with one then, Gawain?” Merlin supposed.

“I’m just…well sayin’.” Gawain frowned as if he’d bitten into a spoiled fig. “Now me? Hey! I’ve got too much love to share. Got to light up the tavern and everything.”

“You mean get lit up in the tavern,” Britomart corrected him. “Do you ever think that maybe…just maybe…your answers won’t come there? Maybe you might consider living like an adult?”

“Now where’s the fun in that, Brit? That woman would make me shave, cut my hair and say ‘yes, Dear’ at least twice for every turn of the bloody hourglass. Now Arthur’s about to get a taste of Hell when Gwen gets him back to the bedchamber.” Gawain smirked. Anticipation almost lent a sense of glee to his face. “Now that would be worth watching.”

“That woman would also take care of you. How much do those women do for you? They laugh at your bawdy jokes. They drink your ale. They may warm your bed for an evening. They only want to drain your purse, Sir Knight. And then what? Another adventure? You can’t keep running. Why not have a home? Why not have someone to care for and cherish? You mentioned what happened to you before. You can’t face it alone.” Britomart told him.

“I’m better off that way.” He looked to Merlin. “You’re in good hands.” He bowed to Mithian. “Your Worship.” He shook his head at Britomart before marching out and shutting the door behind himself.

“Honestly! That man! OOH!” Britomart seethed. “Milady, Merlin, I’m sorry. I just want…well…tonight’s about Merlin. I didn’t mean to make it personal for Sir Gawain. Why can’t he understand that I want to help him?”

“He needs it. He wants it. He just doesn’t want to admit to it,” Merlin noted. “After what happened before, I didn’t think it would happen. I want to believe. I just don’t think Arthur will let it happen.”

“Then something may come of it. Merlin, tonight was about change and renewal. Part of change though is that people leave and new things come of that. Others take their old places. The departed find new places and their own accomplishments. Percival and Blancheflor are doing that in Mercia. Gwen will do that here alongside Arthur. You…well now…you are fated for much bigger things than serving and being Arthur’s lackey. He just might have to deal with George,” Mithian reminded him.

“Gwen would do something like that.” Merlin sighed. “The castle might collapse first. Maybe I should just….” He started to get up.

“No, Merlin. I know he’s the King and you’re a servant….” Mithian rolled her eyes at that concept for continuing, “Still you are due dignity and respect! That farce tonight…that….” She clenched her fists and teeth. “Father would never have done that! He’d never allow anyone to do that to even the lowest peasant!”

“Sorry but King Rodor isn’t Arthur or Uther,” he lamented.

“Oh I know that. I remember Uther.” Mithian grimaced. Distaste crinkled her face. “He’s the kind that seems kind and noble on the surface. In truth, he’s cruel, mean spirited and only does what suits himself. He cared not for what his actions or policies did. He crushed the Old Religion because of some vendetta. He murdered hundreds. He drove your father into exile, Merlin. He denied you your proper place as a noble! Your mother is still in that village scratching out an existence because of that!” She sniffed. “And then there’s the Lady Elaine of Astolat.”

“Elaine? What?” He saw Britomart turn away. He felt Lament and Sorrow from them both.

Mithian sat down on Gaius’ bench. She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.

“You’re trembling.” He grabbed for his own neckerchief from the table. In a heartbeat, he was at his Princess’ side. “Let me.” He gently wiped the tears away. “Who was she?”

Mithian exhaled. “You know my father never agreed with Uther’s ban on magic and the Old Religion.” She sucked in another breath. “Uther waited to press his advantage. Right after my mother’s death, Meleagant invaded Nemeth. Father was forced to ask Uther for aid. Oh Uther gave it but at a price.”

Knowing how the elder Pendragon could be, Merlin winced. “Repression?”

“Yes. Uther forced my father to arrest all of the sorcerers in our realm. Now Father did manage to alert most of them. Those people fled. Uther though wasn’t to be denied. He went to Astolat. The Lady of the Manor, Reyna, was so kind. She healed the sick. She insured that the peasants had plenty to eat. She used her magic for good and kind things. We all knew that. We encouraged it.” Mithian bowed her head. “Uther stormed the estate. He and his men dragged Reyna before my father. King Rodor had no choice. With Meleagant’s hordes no more than three days’ march from Whitgate, he had to cave into Uther’s demands. He pronounced sentence. We were forced to watch as the Lady Reyna burned in the square.” Mithian sobbed before catching her breath.

“We did our best for Elaine afterwards, Milady. You did her favors when you could. Don’t blame yourself or the King. What could he do?” Britomart assured her mistress. “No. This is the kind of cruelty we saw tonight, Merlin. I speak out of turn but this is why the Lady Morgana did what she did. This is why Sir Gawain turns away from my words. This is why you hide here as a servant. Merlin, it’s got to stop!” She bit her lip. “Pardon me, Princess.”

“You speak the truth. You know I value such counsel, Britomart.” Mithian turned back to him. “Arthur believes he can rattle his sword. People need Camelot. Still after tonight, they may not be quick to trust this place.”

“And what of Lady Elaine now? Perhaps your father might find her a match?” Merlin wondered.

Mithian shook her head. “Few people want to marry a sorcerer given the popular thinking. Some of us know better.” She squeezed his hand. “I know better. Still the Lady Elaine deserves better than to be locked away on her father’s estate. I am waiting for the right time to speak with Gwen about that.”

“She’ll listen even if Arthur doesn’t.” He recalled the whole tragedy surrounding Tom the Blacksmith. “Maybe there can be change?”

“As long as Hope reigns in halls such as this one, there can be,” Mithian concurred. She frowned. “I should be getting back. I’m sure some people are going to be concerned that I’m here with you unsupervised or some such poppycock.” She shrugged. “Whatever.” She brushed her lips across his cheek. “You could never hurt me, Merlin. Good night.”

“Good night. Thank you, Princess.” He smiled at her.

“Now that’s better.” She grinned at him. “You are special. Remember that.”

“And you are too….” He bowed his head.

“Thank you, Merlin. I appreciate that.” Mithian smiled. “Come along, Britomart. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

“Indeed. Take care, Merlin.” With that, the duo departed for their chambers.

He exhaled. Perhaps there is hope after all. He headed for his own room to ponder that if not to fall asleep.

Such things were precious if not elusive. Much seemed ready to change…..

Chapter Text

Chapter 19 [Two Days Later—Camelot—Outside of the Castle]

Dawn streaked the sky on that early morning. It touched the gathering day with bits of red, pink and orange. Cool winds billowed past the rooftops and ruffled a few heads of hair below. Despite the previous night’s rain, not a trace of Storm threatened the travelers. Nightingale warbled an encore prior to taking daily rest. The bell chimed the hours out for the town of course.

In the courtyard below, a number of stewards prepared for their lords’ and ladies’ eminent departure. They’d packed two days earlier fearing an abrupt breaking off of negotiations after Arthur’s stunt toward Merlin. Fortunately they were able to hold off on that score as cooler heads prevailed. Consequently they served and continued routines as was the norm.

Still Tension loomed in the background. Change was happening whether people in that citadel liked it or not…..

****

Merlin stood at attention in the midst of the assembled throng. He sucked in a pressed breath. His eyes remained riveted to the stairs underfoot. During the previous day, he’d done his chores. He’d insured that Arthur’s and Gwen’s meals were served in good order. He’d made the beds and cleaned the bedchambers until Sol reflected on them in sparkling wonder. He checked on every detail going above and beyond even his normal standard.

Problem is…Arthur studiously ignored him. He positively bristled toward his servant. His eyes shot daggers. Embarrassment over the attendees’ unspoken Scorn and Indignation boiled up inside of himself. He fumed over Gwen’s, Percival’s and Mithian’s respective views on Merlin’s ‘performance’. Like a petulant child, he failed to see how he’d done anything wrong. He just didn’t grasp the other rulers’ intent.

Merlin shook his head. He could feel the extra chores and punishments coming as soon as the guests departed from Camelot. Maybe I should’ve let Morgana take him? He rolled his eyes at himself. Of course not. He just doesn’t understand! He needs to get over himself! He can act like he’s one of the boys with the knights. Still I save his arse and he does that to me? Gawain’s going to pay for sticking up for me. I know he is. He felt a jab in the side.

Gawain grinned at him. Even if the other knights didn’t dare glance at the servant, he frankly could care less about Arthur’s mood. “Don’t let it get to you, Merlin. It’ll be all right.”

“Easy for you, Gawain. He’s embarrassed. You know what that means.” Merlin bit his lip. “Maybe we’ll both end up in the stocks?”

“Maybe. That’s on him though. Hang in there,” Gawain assured him. He saw Leon glaring at the two of them over his shoulder. “What?”

“Eyes front, Gawain. Arthur wants nothing to go wrong here,” Leon reminded them both.

Nothing wrong? Whatever! I did my best. Why can’t he see that? Merlin sighed.

“Then maybe he needs to follow protocol, Leon. Hey I’m out here. I respect these other big shots. Okay? They need me to protect ‘em? Arthur asks me to do it? I do my duty. Lay off. And lay off of him too,” Gawain retorted not giving an inch. His eyes narrowed to slits. “I’m not sorry for what I said. Arthur embarrassed himself. Let him deal with that.”

“Gawain, please.” Merlin felt his shoulders sagging. Shame weighed down on him. He felt naked and alone despite being in the middle of that group. Irony though kept him around people even if the workload kept him from the one person he wanted to see. Depression saddened him. Still he wouldn’t let it show.

Sympathy showed in Gaius’ eyes. While he said nothing to Arthur, he’d felt the incident had crossed a line as well. He’d offered comfort and support wherever he could the previous day or so. Still he felt as if it wasn’t enough. Perhaps Morgana’s workings continue to do us harm? They drive wedges between us.

Merlin stood resolute. When his friends, particularly Mithian and her entourage, went by, he’d project Resolution and Strength. Respect would show through him for them and their respective ranks. Perhaps he was hurting but he’d rise above it.

After what seemed like forever in that chill breeze, the Mercian and Nemethian delegations marched out of the front door and down the steps to the right of the assembled courtiers and household. Somber expressions predominated in those groups. While quiet Optimism reigned in the achieved treaties between rulers, some ruffled feathers remained. The groups mounted their horses and awaited their leaders.

Percival, Blancheflor and Mithian walked out together. Their conversation seemed engaging and pleasant. Smiles, warm embraces, congratulations and wishes of good fortune went between them. Their eyes met the Camelot assembly’s conveying Warmth and Gratitude for a turn well done.

Princess Mithian at least is being a solid diplomat and friend. Arthur can be like that too. I wish he’d let people see that the other night. Pride for his Princess warmed his chest. His eye gleamed. Nice to see a smile on your face, Princess.

Mithian smirked. She made sure Percival and Blancheflor had mounted their horses. Then she turned as if to wait for Arthur and Gwen. Part of being a diplomat and politician, Merlin. Still one misstep shouldn’t start a war in itself. I’ve watched you yesterday.

You saw me? I didn’t see you. Not that I wasn’t looking. I…. Merlin somehow maintained his poker face.

No wonder. You were working so hard! I can’t believe how beautiful those rooms look! Merlin, I am so proud of you. Even now, you’re representing your kingdom with Dignity and Honor. You show more nobility than most knights. She only allowed a fleeting meeting of her eyes with his. Then they returned toward the door.

You’re too kind, Princess. I wish Arthur would say so, Merlin lamented.

Percival and I spoke to him. Honestly! He’s just stubborn. Merlin, be bigger than he is about it. You did nothing wrong. The more you keep this up, the more I love you. Rough edges and all, she assured him.

Rough edges? he asked.

You do have some things we need to work on. Still you’d be a passable companion for me. She smirked at nobody in particular. She looked to her fellow rulers and then at her entourage. She wondered where Arthur and Gwen were at that point. She’d noted how stiff and formal they’d been in their discussions on the previous day. It seems the feast backfired in more ways than one.

Yeah it does. He sighed.

Again. It wasn’t your fault, Merlin. You did nothing wrong, she asserted. She resisted the temptation to charge into the assembly and embrace him. Malodius, perhaps you’d like to say something?

The Younger Pendragon miscalculated. He needs to grow further into his role as a monarch. Alas in some ways, he is his father’s son. And you need to grow into your various roles further, Merlin, as well, Malodius assessed.

Me? I am the best servant that I can be! Merlin argued.

A servant? Yes and that is to your credit. You are also a warlock. You are Emrys. You have other roles just now opening to you. This is the universe’s way of squeezing you out of Camelot. I believe you know the way, Malodius clarified.

I must agree, Merlin. Your destiny is to protect the Young Pendragon. That in itself does not necessarily mean be constantly joined at his hip. The triple goddess weaves us all into the center of her design. Mithian and you most central of all, it seems. You can protect him as easily from somewhere else. Your magic makes that possible. You have seen the Witch use such spells. So can you. Your support is elsewhere. Much as is the case with a turtle, we occasionally have to shed an old shell no matter how comfortable in order to form and grow into a new one. As we do so, we can develop further, Kilgarrah added.

Wise sentiments. We seem to be agreeing, Dragon. I am gladdened by that, Malodius declared. You need to ask yourself, Merlin. Is this necessary for Albion, the Greater Good and your development? Or is this more comfortable for you? They are not necessarily one in the same. Listen to your heart and what it tells you. That goes for you as well, Princess.

I know. Why do you think I am playing this role? Politics aside, I’d rather just press the case now to Arthur, put my favor in his face and take Merlin back with us. Yes I want Merlin. No I will not turn my needs into another Trojan War. I will have peace AND my Prince, Mithian affirmed.

Merlin gulped. He pondered the deeper implications of Mithian’s stand on that front.

Before the conversation could progress any further, Arthur and Gwen stepped out onto the stairs. They exchanged friendly glances with everyone. Then they descended the stairs and shook hands in turn with Percival and Blancheflor.

“Congratulations again, Percival. Remember our doors are open to you,” Arthur bade Mercia’s soon-to-be King.

“I will, Arthur. You take care. We should speak again once the air is clear,” Percival agreed albeit tentatively. He leaned over and clasped hands with his former monarch. “Gwen, take care. Congratulations on the marriage and your coronation.”

“You will come to our wedding and ceremony next month. Won’t you?” Blancheflor requested.

“Of course we’ll be there. It’ll be lovely!” Gwen accepted. “Thank you again for seeing us safely to Whitgate. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t helped me in Riversmore.”

“Gwen, you’re a true friend. You work hard and you’re loyal. Who wouldn’t treasure such a friend as yourself?” Blancheflor complimented in return. “You take care of each other.” She smiled at Arthur. “Take care of Camelot. It’s quite the city and kingdom.”

“Thank you, Blancheflor. That is most kind. We’ll be seeing you both soon,” Arthur expressed. He smiled.

“Princess Mithian, I’m sure you’ll be there as well? I’d like it if you were,” Blancheflor invited.

“I’d like to be. I shall ask King Rodor first. You have my deepest congratulations, my Friends,” Mithian accepted tentatively. “May everyone be so blessed.”

“As you will be too one day,” Blancheflor noted. “You take care. Ask King Rodor. I’d like you in the wedding party.”

Percival offered one last grin to his former fellow knights. Then he offered a nod echoing Support’s grace for Merlin. “Goddess give you all grace.” He looked to Reynald. “Reynald, let’s go.”

Reynald turned to the other dark clad knights. “FORWARD! HOMEWARD HO!” He motioned and led the knights forward.

“Until our next meeting then!” Percival called. Then he and Blancheflor trotted back to the front of their entourage heading for the city’s drawbridge.

“Good tidings indeed. May our fortunes continue in such ways. King Arthur, Queen Guinevere, thank you once again for your hospitality. I appreciate it,” Mithian expressed.

Arthur nodded curtly. “Yes well. I am sorry that the festival did not meet with your satisfaction, Princess Mithian. I do trust though that everything else was?”

Gwen smiled at her. “Princess, thank you for your assistance with that last crisis. Without Nemeth’s aid, we wouldn’t be here right now. I appreciate that. You are a true friend.”

“As Blancheflor said, you are as well, Queen Guinevere. King Rodor and I were only too glad to offer our services in preserving Camelot’s good fortunes. This place and its people are of excellent quality. I can’t speak enough about your household staff. We shall see you soon.” She curtseyed before the couple. Then she walked over to her horse and mounted it. One last time, she glanced around the citadel. Then her eyes alighted for a heartbeat on her Warlock before drifting ever onward again.

Most of Camelot did not consider the meaning of her glance. The people, knights and Arthur thought of it as another of Mithian’s flights of fancy. They wished her well. Still they didn’t always understand where Exuberance would take her. Consequently they and she needed their own paths at least for now…

As are you, Princess, Merlin complimented in return.

Gwen however nodded to the ambassador. Unlike Arthur, she knew where certain servant’s heart was drifting. I’ll have to see to Merlin’s opportunities in that regard. She tacitly nodded to Mithian as if in affirmation.

Mithian turned to Galahad and Ywain. Then she spurred her horse and trotted away. Her horse’s hooves clip clopping across the stones well after the entourage disappeared from sight. Thank you, Merlin. I love you.

Arthur nodded and waved to the assembly effectively dismissing them. With that, he and Gwen returned inside. He had a hunting trip to plan at the moment.

Merlin smiled ever so little. His heart skipped a beat. He sent warm vibes in her direction. He relaxed a bit.

Gaius rubbed his shoulder. While he didn’t know the immediate cause, Suspicion still narrowed down the possible reasons to a few. “Yes well. We do have herbs to gather.”

Herbs. Yeah herbs. Merlin walked back into the citadel with the aged physician. His mind though was someplace else. Some other place entirely it seemed…..

Chapter Text

Conclusion [Three Days Later]
[Camelot]

Merlin frowned and wiped his brow with a damp rag. His nose had long since clogged up from the stench around himself. His hands and hair caked with dried manure. His eyes stung with Rejection’s tears. He narrowed his eyes and kept tugging with the rake. He’d learned how to clear out each stall with only a few swipes of the wooden tool. Still he’d rather be doing anything but that.

Arthur however thought differently. Before he’d left for his hunting trip, he put George in charge of the household. A new hotshot in the castle, Horace of Bogglesburg, had moved into Merlin’s place in the royal chambers. And Merlin…well…

Stables and more stables….since he raised a stink well he’d know how to deal with one best….

I save his arse. This is what he does? Gaius lets him? REALLY? I…. He tersely yanked a big rakeful of dirty hay to the side. He broke open a clean bale and spread it across the stall’s dirt floor. “Another done. I…”

“Merlin? What in blazes is this? He does this to you?”

He turned to find Britomart watching him. Her eyes stared sadly at him. “Britomart? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be back in Nemeth by now?”

“We were just halfway across Gedref. Master Wyngate sent word that we needed more dogwood for our supplies. My Lady sent me back here to fetch some. Do you know where Master Gaius is?” she explained.

“He’s checking on some of the fever patients in the outer villages. He won’t be back for a couple of days. Sorry, Britomart. Arthur told me to muck out these stables. He wants them done before he comes back or there’ll be Hell to pay,” he told her.

She rolled her eyes. “I think we can find you an exception to the King’s order. Actually Queen Guinevere told me to track you down. She thought you could use a break.”

“I don’t want the Princess getting in trouble for me. I couldn’t….” he started. Worry and Concern reddened his face.

She snorted. “You’re almost as big of a blockhead as a certain oaf around here. It’s all right. Besides I know why you’re reacting that way.” She grinned. “It warms my heart to see that you care about her as well.”

“And how’s that? She’s my friend,” he argued.

“And more. It’s all right. Trust in us.” She motioned to the bag hanging from the saddle. “And that is lunch. Even if Arthur doesn’t understand, certain royal women do.”

He coughed. “Gwen approved of course.”

“Of course,” she informed him. She grabbed the rake from him and set it against the wall. “You’re at a good stopping point. Let’s go.”

Merlin shook his head. Even if Arthur was behaving like a cabbage head at the moment, he could count on his royal ladies to take care of him. With that, he walked to the next stall and saddled a horse. “Then shall we?” He cantered toward her.

“We shall.” She spurred her own horse onward. With that, they galloped away from view.

****

[Whitgate—Castle]
[A/N: The poem below is my own original work. :) ]

Mithian sniffed a white rose in the garden’s northeastern corner. The symphony of scents and aromas relaxed her. Some of the court’s minstrels played their rebecs for her. She thought about a hunt or even a walk around the castle grounds with Sir Ywain and Malodius later. Friends and past times should have done that.

Enough potential outcomes came out of the ordeal for both good and ill. The Southrons’ reign of terror across the Five Kingdoms was over. Everyone was safe. Arthur ruled in Camelot once again with nary a person killed in the process. He and Gwen were married. Percival and Blancheflor prepared to join them on Matrimony’s barge down Bliss’ river of delights. Even Morgana it seemed got off well all things concerned. Granted the former priestess had lost her magic. Still she was now safely installed on Tintagel’s throne. Helios would be dealt with in short order. And then there was everything related to Merlin.

Merlin….

A dreamy smile spread across her face. She almost pranced over toward the lilacs. Much as she’d stalk an unsuspecting deer, she crept up to the blooms. Her nostrils swooned over the flowers’ perfume. Her heart skipped a beat. She now had the means. Everything finally seemed to be coming together. Merlin had proven himself. Their friends approved. Hunith liked her. It could seem possible.

All that is except for Gaius and Arthur….

Why is it so difficult? Percival and Blancheflor are happy. Arthur and Gwen are happy. Why can’t Merlin and I be happy? She sniffed of a strange vine. Jasmine’s scent relaxed her for the moment. “So intoxicating. Why can’t it always be the case?” She surveyed the garden once again. Her eyes distracted themselves with the surrounding flora. Then, she noticed someone sitting under the red rose arbor by the entrance. She raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?” She walked in that direction to investigate.

The young man in question slumped on the bench. A frown spread across his face. Tears streaked his cheeks. He held the torn fragments of a parchment skin on his lap. A crushed bunch of daisies sat beside him on the weather worn wood. “Why?”

She looked him over again. Now that could see his face, she recognized him as one of the stable boys. She relaxed a bit. “Excuse me, Peter?” Her fingertips brushed across his shoulder. “Are you all right? What’s wrong?”

His ears perked at her voice. Her touch made him jump. “What? I….Princess Mithian! I…I…” Panic and Fear paled his features. He shook and quivered. Then he genuflected on the cold stones underfoot. “Forgive me, Lady. I’m sorry! I didn’t see you. I meant no disrespect!”

She sighed. “Peter, it’s all right. Thank you for respecting me. Please rise.” She motioned him up with the kindest of smiles for his benefit. “Would you like a drink of water? Do you need a healer?”

“No, Princess. That…that is very kind of you. I was running an errand. It didn’t go well,” he explained.

“Involving flowers and a parchment?” Her mind puzzled over the nature of said mission. She recalled Peter being a fairly quiet and introverted young man. She knew Rodor and the household spoke well of his work with the animals. She herself had seen how kind and gentle he could be. Then it came to her. She chuckled. “Perhaps you had a surprise for someone?”

Peter bit his lip. “It was…I can’t believe you’d talk with me. You’re a Princess.”

She snorted. “Why yes I am! And you’re a stable hand. I can see that, Peter. You’re also a human being and my father’s subject. Some of my best friends are servants and stable hands you know. They respect my rank. Still I can also treat them well. I care about them and you. It’s all right.”

Peter considered the damaged parchment again. “I was on my way to the servants’ houses after…after Ranulf relieved me in the stables. I picked the daisies yesterday. I even composed this poem. There’s well…someone…I….” He facepalmed himself. “Now she won’t think I care.”

“Well I think it’s obvious you care. Still something happened on the way. Did it not?” she supposed.

“Milady, it’s really…” Peter tried to deflect it.

“Peter, please.” She could imagine how Merlin would’ve felt in such a case. Was this what it was like with Freya all of those years ago? Is that why he’s so closed up about that? She looked him in the eye again. “What happened?”

“I was passing through the market. I didn’t see who it was. I was trying to get over to…my friend. But before I could get to her house, I was pushed down to the ground. I heard someone reading the parchment and making fun of it. Somebody kept me pinned to the dirt. I heard shears cutting it. Then the footsteps rushed away. By the time I rolled over and could look up, nobody was there. I just had what you see in front of you.” He shrugged. “Master Samuel’s mighty mad, my Lady. I was late because of that. I’m sorry.”

She exhaled sharply. She well imagined that people would pass through the marketplace all day. Still she burned over the lack of assistance for Peter’s situation. Aren’t we supposed to help each other? Honestly! “I will speak to Master Samuel on your behalf, Peter.” She peered down at the torn parchment. “May I?”

He squirmed. “Promise you won’t laugh? I was trying to impress my friend. I hope….”

Mithian’s eyes sparkled into his. “I promise, Peter.” She accepted the pieces. She put them together and read:

“Beauty in You
Peter of Marlsborough

Your light shines
Upon august town
Exuding Radiance Divine
Of Olympian Renown

Your eyes glitter
Like Sol on stream
Sending heart patter pitter
Pining in Desire’s dream

Hair Flaxen Gold
Like Rapunzel’s strands
Spun by Faerie Old
Urged by Gnome’s Demand

Warmest of hearts
Caring and kind
Away from dark
You me guide

Special you are
Quality without peer
My guiding star
Drawing Hope near….”

She stared at the parchment. Awe and Surprise numbed her for a few heartbeats. Then she glanced at him.

“It’s awful. I knew it.” He rubbed the back of his neck. Dejection burdened his heart.

She shook her head. “Peter, this is amazing! Please! Did you write this?”

“I…I did, Princess. You’re too kind.”

“And why shouldn’t I be?” Her eyebrow raised. She handed the parchment fragments back to him. “I am sorry about what happened. Who is your friend?”

He bit his lip. “Sarah is a maid in the castle. She’s so nice and works so hard. I…I wish I knew. I…”

She nodded. She’d heard Britomart rave about Sarah’s work ethic. She’d always seen nothing but a pleasant smile and a positive attitude from the blonde haired girl. “Would you like to ask her?” As she asked the question, she felt Doubt’s hold over herself melt away. “Perhaps we might pick some new flowers? Then you can ask her.”

“Ask her?” He gulped. Anxiety clamped his throat shut. His mouth parched. Sweat dampened his forehead.

“I believe that is what this does? It’s all right. I am glad to help. Perhaps you might help me with something in the future?” she requested.

He nodded. “O…okay. Thank you, my Lady.”

“Then shall we find Sarah? Have faith, Peter. Ask your question. Then see what she says,” she advised. She waited for him to stand. Then she led him toward the passage back into the castle.

Charity could be given as well as sought out it seemed…..

****

[Throne Room—Half a Turn of the Hourglass Later]

Rodor read over the latest proclamation with a keen eye. His subjects in Gedref had provided well above the rest of the kingdom that year. The taxes filled the treasury. The bins bulged with wheat. The peasants had sufficient means to survive. (That was never something to take for granted.) Consequently he wanted to be sure a royal congratulations went out to those people and region. When all was in order, he dipped the royal seal in wax and affixed it to the document. Then he handed it to Lord Brumenwald. “Have this copied and read if you would.”

“Of course, my Lord,” the High Chancellor agreed. He accepted the parchment document with a bow. “Shall I call the Royal Council together to discuss potential treaties, Sire?”

Rodor shook his head. “We all need more consideration first. Princess Mithian will meet with Camelot once again. She and I will speak with the Soon to be King Percival and Queen Blancheflor in Mercia when we attend their wedding. Morgana Pendragon and we shall negotiate a treaty between Tintagel and Nemeth. And then there’s the matter of Cawdor.” His mouth contorted into a frown.

“Surely King Meleagant would be willing to have peace now that we have allies? With all due respect, Sire, I didn’t mean….” Brumenwald stopped himself cold.

“You offered a reasonable hope. Lord Brumenwald, you should know I welcome such thoughts. I am glad that the awful business has been attended to. With the Southron threat dealt with, we can turn our eyes back to Cawdor. Queen Annis will also be in Mercia. I hope to meet the Amazon Queen Elena as well,” Rodor assured him.

“An Amazon Queen at a traditional wedding? Aren’t they opposed to our outlook on that?” Brumenwald supposed. Skepticism raised an eyebrow.

“Queen Elena will not attend the ceremony. Still she will offer her respects. Percival and she fought side by side against the Saxons. They have their own treaty to forge. Still we should be cordial with her. I would not dismiss potential allies out of hand.” Rodor rubbed his chin. He saw Mithian walk in with two of the serving staff. “Just a minute.” He walked over to the newcomers. “Princess Mithian, what might I do for you?”

“Your smile and good will does wonders for me, Father.” She offered the royal nod. “I have just learned of a situation within our own house.” She smiled. Anticipation lit up her entire face.

“Really?” Rodor considered the two servants in question. He’d seen both of them from time to time. “Have these two done something wrong?” He motioned for the duo to rise from their respective bow and curtsey.

“Quite the opposite actually, Sire,” Mithian continued. “May I present Peter of Marlborough, stable boy, and Sarah of Clarendon, chambermaid? I found him in the royal gardens. He was composing.”

“Composing?” Rodor squinted at his daughter. His mind tried to get at her meaning.

“If I may, Sire?” Brumenwald broke in. He scratched his head. To do such a thing meant that the young man had some education. He might be able to read and write. “Peter, what do you compose?”

“I write…poems, my Lord. At least I try to,” Peter answered. His knees quaked. “I do it when I’m by myself.”

“Truly?” Rodor turned back to Mithian. “You’ve seen proof of his writing?”

“I have. He is talented. Perhaps we might have need of a Court Bard? At the very least, I could suggest a scribal position? Perhaps he could train with Lord Brumenwald in the Chancellery? A young man with his talents should not be wasting himself in a stable,” Mithian assessed. She handed him the poem fragments. “See for yourself, my King.”

“Indeed not.” Rodor scanned the ripped parchment fragments. Several times Surprise stopped his pace. Looks toward Peter punctuated his reading. “I say you’re quite right, Daughter. Talent like this should not be wasted.” He turned to Brumenwald. “Would you like to work with this young man? He has a great deal of potential.” He showed the poem to his High Chancellor.

Brumenwald skimmed it and nodded. “I’d suggest Court Bard. This is very good. Who knows what he could produce with practice and learning? Aye, Sire. I’ve been wanting to ask you for an apprentice. Let’s see what he makes of himself?”

“My thoughts precisely.” Rodor turned back to Peter. “Very well. You can start with Lord Brumenwald immediately, Young Man. We will focus on court matters and copying manuscripts for the royal archives. When needed, perhaps you might recite some of your work for the court? The minstrels would be delighted to work with you, I’m sure.”

“Yes, Sire. Reginald and Samuel are friends of mine. It would be an honor.” He bowed to their liege. “Thank you.”

“I live to reward loyalty, service and talent, Peter. Now what of this young lady?” Rodor looked Sarah over.

“I’m an orphan, Sire. You brought me into your household several winters ago. My parents died in the pestilence.” Sarah squirmed. Her eyes stayed riveted to the floor. “I just feel like I’m wasting your time. The royal apartments need attention. I…”

“Sarah, Britomart can more than handle them. I can tell you that much,” Mithian broke in. “Perhaps King Rodor should summon her when she returns? She’d speak to your quality.”

Sarah bit her lip. Fear paled her face much as it had Peter in the garden earlier. “Britomart really has everything so neat and clean. I don’t want to leave a speck of dust or a streak anywhere. I really look up to her. I don’t want to let her down.”

“You aren’t. Britomart speaks highly of you. Please don’t put yourself down, Sarah. You’re no longer an orphan. As of this morning, I’d say Peter took care of that. Didn’t he?” Mithian disagreed. Her face broke into a smile.

“And what would that be?” Rodor considered the couple anew. He noticed they’d taken each other’s hand. “Is there something I should know?”

Peter squeezed Sarah’s hand. He forced Inadequacy down where it couldn’t handicap him. “Sire, Sarah and I have been dear friends for several seasons. We love each other. Since she is a ward of the kingdom, I’ve come to ask for your blessing and permission to marry her.”

“We talked about it after he read me his poem, Your Majesty.” Sarah managed to raise her head. Her eyes met Peter’s. A dreamy smile broke through Shyness’ overcast obscuring her face. “I…we…know…we respect your judgment.”

Rodor glanced to Mithian. Getting a nod from her, he turned back to the couple. “And why would I do that? You both serve the kingdom well. You give to us. Who would I be to deny such sentiments? It suits me well to congratulate you both. Perhaps, Peter, you might compose some of your work for the court in honor of this event? Consider that my tax of sorts. Perhaps we can provide some food as well?”

“It would be a pleasure.” Mithian looked to Sarah and Peter. “We can make arrangements with a priestess if you’d like. That way you’d have both Father’s permission and the goddess’ blessing.”

“I didn’t think we’d be able to find someone like that! Truly, Princess?” Peter asked.

“We know several such priestesses. I’m sure one of them will be delighted. Why don’t you return to your duties? We’ll talk again shortly,” Mithian assured them.

“Young man, have you completed the stable work for today?” Brumenwald inquired.

“Yes, my Lord. When Princess Mithian found me, I had already completed the day’s chores. I am ready to serve you,” Peter agreed.

“Then we shall start in the morning. If you wish to follow me, I can show you the Chancellery. We will have new clothes for you befitting your role. Follow me,” Brumenwald told Peter. He bowed to the two royals. “Is there anything else you require of us, Sire?”

“All seems to be well. You may go. We will look forward to hearing what comes of your preparations,” Rodor agreed.

“Thank you again, Sire.” Peter bowed along with Sarah’s curtsey. Then he led her after Brumenwald out of the chamber.

Mithian sipped on a goblet of water. “Thank you, Father.”

“One should nurture and encourage such talent, Mithian. It is as I said. Generosity provides and should be repaid to others accordingly. Good feelings can only come from such things. Speaking of talent, how is Arthur’s servant, Merlin?” Rodor declared.

Her mood brightened that he remembered Merlin’s name and her Warlock himself. “Merlin keeps Camelot’s royal household running smoothly. He also helps Master Gaius with healing procedures.” Her smile grew. “Father, he did it. He fought off a squadron of Mercian soldiers at Ealdor to save Britomart, Sir Gawain and me. As Sir Percival defeated Cedric, Merlin bested Sir Reynald. Britomart will confirm this if you need that. There’s something else we learned about Merlin as well.”

“And that is?” he asked. He noticed her mood picking up further. It reminded him of when she talked him into buying the gray pony for her eleventh birthday. “Mithian, it’s all right. Merlin’s accomplished the three tasks. I’m glad for the young man. What else did you find out?”

“While I was in Ealdor, his mother mentioned a man by the name of Balinor. Sir Ywain said he’d been here in Whitgate during Grandfather’s reign?” she inquired.

He stiffened. “Balinor? Balinor the Dragon Lord? Mithian, are you sure?”

“That’s what Hunith said, I…” She could see his disbelief. “He was here?”

“Aye. Balinor was here. I can’t say enough for him or his service to Nemeth. He fought well for your Grandfather. I fought beside him twice on the battlefield. He saved Malodius during a battle with Cawdor. He was made noble and knighted. All seemed well. He was about to leave for somewhere to bring a woman here. Somebody named Hildy…Horath…no….”

“Hunith.” She grinned. “It’s true then!”

“It’s true? What is…I…” He scratched his head while sorting out all of the pieces. He’d already heard from Ywain and Percival about Reynald and the latter’s squadron. “Wait. You met her?”

“She’s Merlin’s mother. I met her in the village. Father…” she started.

“Praise to the goddess then!” Rodor exclaimed. He embraced her tightly. “Then it is doubly so! Merlin is Balinor’s son. My father made sure that his nobility was protected in case one day Balinor or his heir returned. How I wish I had known sooner!” He gazed at her. “This is truly a happy day. Not only do I get to bless a marriage, I can insure that Balinor’s son is taken care of. More so, I can unite him with you. And best of all, you both love each other.”

“Thank you, Father!” She embraced him. “So I can court him then?”

“Aye. You may. Still you must conduct yourself with dignity and respect to your position and our kingdom. Respect Merlin as well,” he reminded her. “I also need to ask. Has he inherited the….power?”

“Aye, Father. He can speak to dragons. I just wish he could control his King. I can’t understand Arthur. Honestly!” she replied adding a complaint at the end.

He raised an eyebrow. “Why? What has Arthur done to Merlin now?” He recalled Agravaine’s false charges against Merlin.

“During the flight from Camelot to Ealdor, Arthur was badly wounded. Merlin and Master Gaius led him, Percival and Sir Gawain through the forest. Still they were surrounded. Merlin disguised Sir Gawain and Arthur as Nazarene sisters so as to slip through the Southrons’ lines. Arthur’s pride is still badly hurt. Before we left, he replaced Merlin as his head household servant and demoted him to permanent stable mucker. I hope Gwen can convince Arthur otherwise.” She paced back and forth. Fury frothed akin to hot magma inside of a volcano. “Merlin’s a nobleman. He knows it. Yet he’s got this insane sense of obligation to a man who’d burn him at the stake if he knew the truth!”

He sighed. “So you know Balinor was forced to flee. He disappeared into the wilds never to be seen again. Uther wanted to execute him as an example to others. I fear for Merlin if Arthur ever found out.”

“I would hope Arthur would simply exile him as he did to Gwen. Still if anything does happen, Merlin has allies. And we can be waiting inside of Gedref’s border.” She ran her hands through her hair. “I know Arthur isn’t as bad all of the time as he seems. Still this act of revenge after Merlin saved his life and the others is ridiculous!”

“Have faith, my Daughter. For now, we bide our time. Just know that you have done all you can. You built his case. Merlin has proven himself. Moreover you established his true identity as a noble of this court. I will need diplomacy though. Despite being noble, Merlin is still a servus in Arthur’s eyes. He isn’t free. If we have a standoff, it could throw all of Britannia into war,” he admonished.

“I know,” she concurred with a heavy heart. “Merlin just wants to serve the Greater Good. It’s so endearing about him, Father. I met very few men like him. He could do so many things. He has power. Still he remains humble.” She shook her head. “I would like to invite Lady Hunith to move here from Ealdor. Even if Merlin still has to go through a servant’s life for now, we could honor Balinor’s wishes and…reassure Merlin too.”

“Of course. That we can do. I’m sure Percival and Blancheflor would not object to our invitation,” he agreed. “I trust your judgment, Mithian.”

“I’ll do my best to make you proud, Father.” She kissed him gently on the cheek. “Thank you again.”

“It’s nothing that Merlin and you didn’t accomplish yourselves. Besides it finally gives me the way to pay back my old friend. His family should be here at court. And you make me proud every day.” He smiled once more. Then he left the chamber.

Mithian leaned out the window. Her eyes surveyed the forest’s edge. Her senses probed ever deeper into the trees and across the Gedref toward Camelot. There the man of her heart and dreams toiled for his King. She wondered if Arthur could ever truly appreciate Merlin or ever would. Perhaps there would be the opportunity.

Perhaps Hope would reward them all….

In the meantime, I’ll take that advice. We’ll proceed slowly and carefully. I will respect Merlin’s needs and feelings. That I swear!

The next move in that regard would come a few months later. As the leaves changed color and fell, so did matters start to shift. How much so would remain to be seen…..

THE END (for now)