Chapter Text
Mordred
5 years later
‘CLANG!’
‘CLANG!’
"Come on, Tassian! Is that the best you've got?” Mordred taunted the strawberry-haired man he was fighting.
Sidestepping an ill-timed blow he added, “tsk tsk tsk…I taught you better than that Tass.”
The man in question growled before switching tactics, his blows now driven with frustration. Mordred chuckled lightly and deftly parried every attack thrown his way. They'd been training in the scorching hot sun for the better half of three hours and within that time he had wiped the floor with every one of them. Tassian, of course, had given him a run for his money but he didn't need to know that.
Deciding to have some mercy on his friend, he ended the match. Unfortunately for Tass, Mordred's method of ending it resulted in him falling face-first into the pile of mud next to them. The loud, boisterous laughter of his makeshift knights filled the courtyard. Mordred shook his head fondly, not feeling the least bit guilty for his actions.
He offered Tassian his hand, "I heard mud is good for the skin,” eyes alight with laughter as he took in the man's face. His once rosy red features were now covered with mud. The corner of his lips lifted as he continued, “Let me know if it works”
Face scrunched in absolute disgust Tass retorted, “I dislike you more and more every day.” He turned swiftly on his heels, stomping towards the benches. The laughter rose even more after his reply, his men taking time off to tease a fellow brother-in-arms. Mordred smiled fondly at the scene in front of him and he thanked the goddess once more for giving him this group of misfits that he would proudly call family.
Four years ago when they’d first started welcoming people into the safe haven they had struggled a lot with keeping order. Even more problematic was the lack of knights to keep watch or defend the people from any minor attack that may befall them.
Mordred's smile widened a little more as he proudly watched his men teasing and roughhousing with each other. These men didn't have a single day's training with any weapon but they were some of the first to volunteer to protect their people. Mordred had been a stranger to them all but they had followed his every direction. They trained every day with a passion that could rival that of the knights of Camelot. There had been fifteen of them originally but as time passed, as the numbers of incoming druids increased more and more people volunteered. All wanting the honor of defending their people.
They had roughly 80 knights now, which may seem a bit underwhelming compared to that of Camelot's or Essetir’s army but Mordred firmly believed that once this land had its true king and it was fully turned into the kingdom they all wanted then their army would be a formidable one. Of these soldiers Mordred was extremely close to three of them. They had been at his side from the very beginning.
Tassian was one of his best fighters and closest friends. They had met a few days after Mordred and Morgana’s first meeting with the triple goddess. The man had been surrounded by bandits, not to mention mind-numbingly drunk. Mordred had rushed to his aid. It had taken a few tries to weasel any information out of the man but he succeeded eventually. He learned that Tassian had recently lost his brother, the last remaining family he had left and in his grief had intentionally walked into the bee's nest.
Mordred, knowing exactly how that felt, had offered Tassian a spot in the future they were setting out to build, a spot in his small constantly dwindling family. He had readily accepted the offer and thus was the beginning of a great friendship.
Oh and then there was–
“ SIR MORDRED!!!”
Mordred's head instantly whipped up, thoughts coming to a halt.
“ A fight has broken out in the square! People are hurt!!”
Mordred took off in a sprint, his men following suit.
➸ ◌ ➸ ◌ ➸ ◌ ➸
Shouts and clashes filled the air, bouncing off the wooden frames of the surrounding houses. Stalls were overturned spilling fruits and meager vegetables on the dirt floors of the square. Tomatoes were soaring in the sky flying in every direction.
The scene unfolding before their eyes was an absolute mess.
Thankfully despite the commotion, no one appeared to be gravely injured. Mordred could even spot a few of his knights in the fray having arrived before him. They were trying desperately yet failing to separate and subdue the crowd. The silver in their, not quite camelot standard armor, glinted in the sunlight as they tried to use their shields as a barrier to separate the brawlers.
Mordred sighed, this was the third fight they’ve had this season alone. The druids were starting to get restless it would seem and for the most part, he could understand why. The cottages were shabby, their food source was limited, trade wasn't all that good in this area, and bandits were also becoming a problem. His jaw clenched in frustration, he'd surely need to talk to Morgana about this…..again. For now, though he needed to put an end to this chaos before people got seriously hurt.
“ Tassian, Ned, Jasper with me. Everyone else try your best to part this crowd. Arrest anyone unwilling to cooperate “
A tomato whizzed past his face. Irritation shot straight through him.
“ By the Goddess, SOMEBODY GET THOSE TOMATOES AWAY FROM THAT OLD MAN!” he shouted his final order before sprinting into the thick of the chaos.
The cause of the problem was usually at the center with the chaos spilling out from within.
Sure enough there they were, two druid men yelling at each other till they were red in the face. Or maybe that was the flying tomatoes' fault. He really couldn't tell that well from this angle.
“WHO ARE YOU TO QUESTION THE WORKING OF EMRYS?”
Hmph…there goes another one.
“WHERE IS HE! THEY ARE CLEARLY LYING TO US”
Mordred quickly and quietly closed the distance between himself and one of the men. Tassian doing the same behind him.
“IT'S NOT TIME YET! ONE DOES NOT RUSH GREATNESS”
Mordred has the man's hands locked behind his back before he can even register that they are there. Clearly, that was too minor an issue to stop him from yelling though.
“ IT'S BEEN FOUR YEARS!”
“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Mordred roared, finally having enough of the yelling. “You’ve caused enough ruckus for one day. Now I suggest you hold your piece until you hold counsel with Lady Morgana!”
He righted the older druid man and began the trek to their holding bay of sorts. They could stay there until they had cleared their heads and were cooled off enough to have a proper conversation. Ned and Jasper eventually left them in favor of helping some of the vendors back onto their feet and righting the stalls.
Goddess, help him. These fights could not be allowed to continue, they had to get to the root of it as soon as possible.
➸ ◌ ➸ ◌ ➸ ◌ ➸
Mordred could count the number of times he'd interacted with the man standing before him on one hand. He was a druid leader, one who had been stripped prematurely of his position. The gossip amongst the druid clans is that he was too rash and too violent. Most of his actions completely went against the peaceful nature of the druids.
His name was Atticus. He joined the safe haven roughly three years ago when his clan was attacked by mundanes, people without magic. He’d heard about the haven from a passing group of druids and had come seeking shelter. He appeared to Mordred as someone who truly cared for his people so he truly could not fathom why he would cause such a ruckus in the square.
“Please, make yourself comfortable. Have a seat.” Mordred began, arms outstretched and gesturing towards the seat opposite Morgana.
“No offense sir Mordred but I would prefer to stand.” he curtly replied, body tensed as though waiting for an attack.
Morgana, being the more diplomatic of the two, began the conversation. “Sir Mordred here tells me that you have some…problems with our leadership.” She leaned forward slightly, with pursed lips and a slightly raised eyebrow she continued, “I must say I cannot fathom what could be so horrible about our ruling that you would subject innocent members of your kin to such unsavory behavior.”
Mordred turned towards Atticus, a silent indication for him to begin speaking. For the first time since he had entered the room, he looked a bit unsure of himself.
“ look. I ..” he stammered. Huffing he drew back his shoulders and looked directly into Morgana’s eyes.
Quite a bold move if you asked him.
“You were not meant to lead. We came here because you told us we would be protected and united under Emrys himself,” fist clenched at his sides and voice raising beyond what is considered appropriate for a nobleman he continued, “ It has been THREE years and EMRYS STILL ISNT HERE!”
Mordered’s edge of irritation instantly returned. The audacity of this man to disrespect them in their home. To raise his voice to them after they'd spared him even after knowing he was the cause of the ruckus in the square.
“I'd mind my manners if I were you, Atticus. I fear my patience has run out” chided Mordred.
“Forgive me lord mordred” he combated practically sneering at mordreds title. Fiddling slightly with the end of his tunic sleeve he turns his attention back towards Morgana. Who for her part, looked every bit as irritated as Mordred felt.
“Say your bit and let this tedious meeting be over with Atticus!” she sneered, jaws clenched.
“We will not stand for this any longer. We have given you four years and you have failed. Now we will give you five days,” turning abruptly to face Mordred he declared, “If you do not have Emrys within this sanctuary's borders then blood will be split!” He finishes with bared teeth.
A second passes.
Another
Silence
Mordred wordlessly turns towards Morgana. The frigid smile she wore sent chills down his spine. It was in moments like this that he saw the old Morgana. The one obsessed with revenge and filled with hatred.
Leaning forward, arms propped on her thighs she challenged, “You speak as though I couldn't just kill you where you stand.”
“You could of course,” he smiled, looking as though he’d already won the conversation, “ but I'm not the only person who feels this way, My Lady. I’m afraid killing me won’t stop anything. Though I am ready to die for my cause.”
If looks could kill then Atticus would have been 6 feet under by now. Tilting his head, Mordred piped in, having finally had enough of this man. “Should you succeed, who do you suppose should lead our people?”
Puffing up his chest Atticus exclaimed, “ Me Of Course! I have the most experience leading amongst my men.”
With a flick of her hand and muttering of a quick almost silent spell the man was gone.
Turning to her with her lifted brow he inquired, “ I do believe we weren’t finished.” Morgana simply ignored him, choosing instead to gather the papers sitting on the desk at her side. Mordred shook his head slightly, this wasn't the first time she'd done something like this, the idea of making her problems disappear into a little bubble jail that only she could access was apparently too tempting. That's definitely not going to be a problem when Emrys takes over he muses.
“He's right, you know, he has supporters. Locking him away won't do anything to deter them. In fact, it might anger them more”
As graceful as ever she dismounted from her seat and started making her way towards the wooden doors. Hips swaying and head held high she walked with the confidence they had once stolen from her. A smile graced Mordred's lips as he watched her go, had it not been for her temper she'd make a wonderful Queen.
Stopping abruptly she spun towards him bringing him out of his musings, “Tomorrow dear Morderd we shall discuss this …rebellion.. I will be retiring for the day because I am positively drained. I trust you can handle everything else on your own.” she asked, lips curving slightly into a teasing smile.
Rolling his eyes he nodded at her.
“Well then, I shall see you tomorrow.” she sashayed out, not seeming the least bit worried about the threat they’d just received.
Sighing, Mordred couldn't help thinking that Atticus’ words held some merit. It had been five years since they’d seen Emrys and since then they had made no effort to contact him.
Gazing out the makeshift window he wondered. Would Emrys like what Morgana and he had built here? If he would stay. If for once he'd put his people and their safety above Arthur.
If for some ridiculous reason, he'd missed him?
Had he tried to find him?
Worried when Mordred couldn't be found?
Turning away he sighed once more. At the rate things were beginning to escalate, he believed he would find his answers soon enough.
➸ ◌ ➸ ◌ ➸ ◌ ➸
Drip!
Drip!
Something wet and cold landed on her face. Eyes closed she wondered if the servants had forgotten to fix the leaking surface above her bed.
Groaning, she reached for her bedsheet hoping to pull it over her head and delay waking for a few more minutes. Her hands inched bit by bit in search of the plush blanket only to be met with something cold and unforgivingly hard. It was only then did she registered the coldness seeping into her bones and the surface beneath her that was far too stiff to be a bed.
A jolt of anxiety rushed through her body and she surged forward. Her eyes were wide open and her breathing and movements were quick and erratic.
Where was she?!
How had she gotten here ?!
Who brought her here?!
She needed to-
“Be calm child, all is well” Morgana's head instantly whipped around searching for the owner of the voice. Standing in the corner less than three feet away was none other than the triple goddess. She placed her palms on her forehead, her shoulders instantly sagging in relief.
“Forgive me, my lady, I wasn't expecting a visit so soon.”
Eyes twinkling with barely concealed amusement the goddess replied, “Fear not my child, anyone in your place would have the same reaction. As per usual your body remains safe and warm in your bedchambers while your subconscience convenes with me.”
Morgana simply nods, she knows how this works. The goddess would summon her consciousness here when she needed to pass information to Mordred and herself. It's how they’ve been communicating since their first meeting in the cave. A cave eerily familiar to the one she's currently sitting in.
Standing and smoothing out her nightgown she enquires, “Is something troubling you, my lady?” looking up and tilting her head she continues “This meeting is three months ahead of time.”
A radiant smile graced the goddess’ face, “It is time!”
eyebrows knitted, Morgana pressed her lips together.
Time?...... It's Time? Had she missed something? Was there a deadline that she'd forgotten about? Goddess forbid she promised to finish something the last time they met. She bit her lip, surely she was mistaken, surely Mordred would have reminded her of such a deadline.
“Why so puzzled Morgana,” the goddess giggled lightly, “ it's quite simple”. Standing she took Morgana's hands in her own and resumed, “You and Mordred have done a marvelous job. It is so much more than I was expecting and we couldn't have made it possible without you two. But something is missing. Someone .” she peered into her eyes, “ Morgana, it is time to bring Emyrs home!”
Morgana felt as though her brain had frozen for a minute. Emrys. Welcome. She wanted them to WELCOME HIM HOME?! In the past five years, Morgana had let go of a lot. She worked past most of her anger and hatred to the point that they were mere irritations now. But no matter how hard she tried she could never seem to change her opinion on Emrys. It was one of the many sore topics that she and Mordred could never agree on.
She couldn't forgive the man so how in the name of the goddess did they expect her to work with him? Much less work for him. She couldn't do it. She couldn't work with that coward. He had done so little to protect their kind. It didn’t matter what Mordred said, the man was destined to be her doom. They were always destined to be on opposite sides. She bit her lip, hard enough to draw blood she had to get rid of him before he had the chance to come after her. Maybe she could-
Morgana’s thoughts were instantly cut off by a warm hand gently caressing her cheek. As she looked up into the knowing eyes of the goddess she blushed slightly, remembering all too late the goddess' ability to hear her thoughts.
“Morgana,” her lips tilted slightly “ you have come so far, my dear. Five years ago, you would have attempted to bite off my head for speaking his name." Morgana chuckled lightly, unable to find fault in her words. “I do not blame you for fearing him nor do I blame you for hating him. The Emrys you know is the favored warlock of stories, distorted by generations of druids, you have yet to meet and understand the real Emrys. The man behind the stories, the one who has made mistakes while trying to keep the people he cares about safe.”
“ We have seen him, Morgana. Mordred and I have seen the real Emrys, a loving and selfless man who would make a formidable King. I do not expect you to love or trust him at this point. All I ask is that you give him a chance, let him prove that he is the man we know him to be.”
Morgana sighed, as much as she hated to admit it. Part of her wanted to be proven wrong, she wanted to see the man revered by both the druids and the goddess, the one Mordred would willingly give his life to protect. “ what happens if he doesn't live up to your expectations'' she countered
“Well, if that be the case then we will be having a very different conversation. But if I'm being honest, I don't think it will come to that. Emrys has a way of worming his way into people's hearts and carving a permanent place for himself.”
➸ ◌ ➸ ◌ ➸ ◌ ➸
It had been a few hours since Morgana's conversation with the goddess. After their little heart-to-heart, she told Morgana that she and Mordred had devised a plan to get Emrys away from Arthur. She had been assured that the much harder part, convincing him to stay would be taken care of by the goddess. There was one flaw in the goddess’ plan however, Morgana didn't know the real identity of Emrys. Not for lack of trying, she mused. She tried on numerous occasions to pick a name from Mordred but the man's lips were sealed tighter than Camelot's vaults. She’d even considered using liquor to loosen his lips, but the stubborn man seemed to have an aversion to it.
Clearing her throat loudly she looked up at him. Mordred for his part, appeared completely unfazed by the tense atmosphere at the table this morning. She was sure he felt her piercing gaze boring holes through his head but he hadn't so much as acknowledged it since he sat down. Seemingly engrossed by the chicken and roasted potatoes on his plate.
Gritting her teeth she sighed loudly and pointedly. With an even more exaggerated sigh and eye-roll, he finally looked up. Words dripping with sarcasm he asks.
“What seems to be troubling you, Morgana?”
Glaring slightly at the stubborn-headed git she wondered how she should approach this. Coming out directly and asking might make him clam up and much the same would happen if she came on too strong.
Frustrated, she stabbed her chicken. The goddess did say that she had spoken to him. So he should be more forthcoming …right? Goddess knows she couldn't wait any longer. She'd nearly driven herself up a wall trying to figure out this man's real identity.
“I spoke to the Goddess” she started. Mordr ed finally looked up, food no longer holding his attention.
“Did you now? What did she say?” he asked ever so innocently.
“Oh spare me Mordord, she said she'd already spoken to you” she drawled. “ it seems it's time for your precious Emrys to come home” She finished watching him closely.
“Is that so …” he hums raising his wine glass to his lips. The annoying imp. Morgana was entirely sure he was concealing a smile behind the cup.
“Yes. How she intends for me to find a man whose identity I am unaware of is beyond me” Staring him dead in the eyes she powers on “If only there was someone kind enough to tell me his true name”
Mordred beams at her, he’d already had this conversation with the goddess numerous times…on various occasions. He'd been reassured on every turn that Morgana despite her sometimes vexing conclusions was ready to learn of Emrys.
“Why, you think you'd know his face by now considering you met him countless times,” Morgana startles, “ held numerous conversations with him and may have even considered him a friend at some point”
She huffs, what utter rubbish. Surely she would have noticed that man's presence.
Right
..
RIGHT!?!
She looks at Mordred hesitantly, suddenly unsure.
Surely she would have known.
“Think about it Morgana” Mordred drawled still peering at her over his glass “The prophecy basically said where Arthur goes so does Emrys. Who do you know that follows Arthur like a second shadow.”
Morgana’s face instantly contorts with frustration. That could be just about anyone for goddess sake. Arthurs the king, and his knights go wherever he goes. Not to mention his insufferably hard-to-kill manservant.
Wait, is Mordred saying what she thinks he's saying?
Is Emrys one of Arthur's knights?
Mordred's choking goes entirely unnoticed by Morgana, who is completely focused on the puzzle presented to her.
Was it Leon…no it couldn't be he was too loyal to Uther during his leadership. Maybe elyan.. His sister being Arthur's wife would be a great cover for him. Maybe Gwain– okay maybe not Gwaine
Eyes alight with amusement Mordred chortled “Emrys isn't one of Arthur's knights, goddess knows Arthur would never let him near a weapon”
Leaning forward he continues “Emrys is Arthur's most trusted advisor, Whose judgment do you think Arthur values above all else?”
Hmm.. Gaius.
No, that's not right.
She’s seen firsthand Arthur treating Gaius' words as a mere suggestion. Surely someone as ancient as Gaius couldn't be the foretold legend. Unless he was competing with other physicians for the worst-tasting tonics.
Guinevere maybe
As loathe as she may be to admit it, the little goody two shoes does give good advice. But as much as he may value his wife she wouldnt say it's above all else.
Emrys is a man though right? She's sure there exists a spell to turn one's gender, even for a few moments.
This is where Mordred completely loses it. Full belly laughter echoes off the walls of the makeshift dining room. He swore he hadn't meant it. Morgana's line of questioning just brought back memories of Emrys, in a dress no less.
Morgana huffed, patience flying out the door. The only other person who Arthur listens to is Merlin, his bastard manservant. Was Mordred aware that a stupid servant had tried to kill her? She pursed her lips in anger after she'd been nothing but kind to him. She admits the difference in class was always a looming factor but she had considered him a friend at some point and his betrayal really did —-
‘ may have even considered him a friend at some point”......Merlin
He knows the workings of the court…
Who do you know that follows Arthur like a second shadow.”..... Merlin
She scoffs, surely that's just a coincidence. Of course, it was. Of course, it was she reassured herself while glancing up at Mordred there's no way that half-wit could be —-
Only to be met with Mordred's knowing eyes and Cheshire smile. “The best place to hide Morgana” the corners of his lips tilt “ is in plain sight”
….
MERLIN?!?!!
➸ ◌ ➸ ◌ ➸ ◌ ➸
That sly conniving bastard.
….
All these years and shed never once suspected him of being anything other than dimwitted and clumsy.
….
Stupidly smart, sly conniving bastard.
He could have told her, could have helped her when she first found out about her magic. She scoffs, yet another instance of the Great Emrys forsaking his people to protect Arthur.
She slid her gaze over to Mordred, he'd mostly left her to her own thoughts after dropping that bombshell. That was yesterday morning. They'd convened this morning to discuss how they were going to approach Emry–Merlin.
Scoff, the quick-witted swine
Putting the anger and betrayal aside for a minute. She didn't understand how the goddess expected this to work. Even the blind could see that Merlin would never leave Arthur's side. Do they think telling him that it's to protect our people would suddenly make him change his mind… he'd never cared about them before.
Of course, he cares, he’s done everything he could to protect us but you choose not to see it. Mordred hotly refuted. Ever Emrys’ defendor.
Give him a chance, they say.
Ok sure.
She can't go against the goddess's wishes but she sure as all hell won't make things easy for him. He has to prove himself to her before she ever considers him, her King.
An almost sinister grin pulled at her lips. She’ll give him a run for his money. She’ll make a King out of him alright.
➸ ◌ ➸ ◌ ➸ ◌ ➸
Two days later, in a kingdom far away, a messenger dressed in a peasant-like attire carries surprising news. The messenger appears in front of King Arthur and his court, eager yet scared out of his mind.
“It is an honor to stand before my liege” he starts on bended knees “ I bring word from my safe haven.”
Interest ripples through the court. Word had spread about people amassing in the perilous lands. A most curious endeavor
“My leaders have sent to inform you that they will soon be en route to Camelot. They wish to assure you that they mean no harm to you or your people, they simply wish to form an alliance”
An alliance. With people from the perilous lands, King Arthur scoffs inwardly. That place is barren, what could they possibly have to offer?
Leaning slightly forward on his throne he questioned, “When do you suppose they will arrive?” this alliance may never leave the table he humored but they will be Camelot's guest and should be treated as such. At least until he knows for certain that they will not pose a threat to his kingdom.
“The journey should take no more than two days my liege”
Hmmm. Arthur twirled the pommel of his sword. “ And How shall I refer to your leader? You have not provided me with his name”
The messenger gulps “HER name my liege is–
Flashback
“When King Arthur asks who sent the message what am I to tell him” mumbles the man before her
Morgana smirks eyes dancing with mischief,“ The priestess Morgana or simply–”
Flashback ends
The messenger continues “ – Lady Morgana will do”