[Fic] Things Invisible to See - for camelotsolstice
Title: Things Invisible to See
Author: Anonymous
Recipient: camelotsolstice
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Morgana, Gwen, Arthur, and Merlin
Warnings: None
Spoilers: Takes place during episode 1x10, “The Moment of Truth”
Rating: G
Word Count: 2,515
Summary: “That poor woman,” she said to Gwen later, after they’d helped Hunith to Gaius’ chambers and returned to Morgana’s rooms. Gwen bit her lip and nodded, looking distracted as she rummaged through the mending basket, and Morgana watched her for a moment before she spoke. “I’m going with her.”
Author's Note: Some lines of dialogue are borrowed directly from “The Moment of Truth.” The title comes from John Donne’s Song. Thank you to 'S' for the beta.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction - none of this ever happened. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is made from this work. Please observe your local laws with regards to the age-limit and content of this work.
It began with a dream - a dream of a solitary woman walking along the road to Camelot, of swords glinting in the sunlight and an arrow finding its mark - but when Morgana woke, her heart pounding and her eyes wide and staring in the darkness, she was surprisingly unafraid.
She felt none of the despair that her dreams so often caused, none of the terror that usually left her screaming in the dead of night. Instead she felt a strange need to move, a curious sense that she needed to go to the place she had seen in her dream and help in some way.
And so when she saw the woman from her dream - Merlin’s mother - kneeling before Uther’s throne the following day, Morgana knew exactly what she must do.
“That poor woman,” she said to Gwen later, after they’d helped Hunith to Gaius’ chambers, trying to reassure her along the way, and returned to Morgana’s rooms. Gwen bit her lip and nodded, looking distracted as she rummaged through the mending basket, and Morgana watched her for a moment before she spoke.
“I’m going with her.”
Gwen’s head lifted, the blue gown she had chosen dangling loosely from her hand. “My lady!” she said, sounding shocked.
“I have to,” Morgana went on, and she wanted to say, because I’ve seen it in my dreams, but she couldn’t risk admitting that to anyone, not even to Gwen. “Merlin helped me rescue the Druid boy. I owe it to him.”
Gwen still hadn’t spoken, and Morgana stepped across the room and reached for her hands, setting the forgotten gown aside. “But I won’t put you in danger again. I’m sorry that I put you at risk at all when we were hiding the boy here. I want you to stay in Camelot, where you’ll be safe.”
“No,” Gwen replied, with a determined shake of her head. “Merlin is my friend too, and I want to help him, like he helped me. He saved my life.” She looked up at Morgana and smiled. “And I wouldn’t let you leave without me, my lady. Wherever you go, I’ll follow.”
Morgana smiled and gave Gwen’s hands a brief squeeze before turning away. “We’d better get started then,” she said, tying her hair in an untidy knot. “We have work to do.”
*
She wasn’t entirely surprised when she woke and found Arthur at their makeshift camp, stalking around the place and ordering Merlin to gather their belongings and to see to the horses. Merlin complied cheerfully and uncharacteristically without complaint, but Morgana saw him looking at Arthur every now and again as if he couldn’t believe that he had actually defied his father just to help him. She caught Gwen looking too, once or twice, studying Arthur with her head tilted as though he were something that she didn’t quite understand before turning away, awkward and embarrassed when he caught her watching.
Their little group’s high spirits continued when they took to the road, and as they drew closer to the village Merlin entertained them all with stories about his childhood in Ealdor and vivid descriptions of its people.
“I think they’ll all be really happy to see us,” he said. “Well, except for Old Man Simmons.” He darted a look at his mother, who gave him a fond smile. “He didn’t like me very much.”
“I can’t imagine why,” Arthur said dryly, though Morgana could see the amusement in his eyes. “What did you do to him?”
“A few years ago I, uh, chopped down a tree and it nearly landed on him,” Merlin replied, ducking his head and giving a small, embarrassed shrug.
They all laughed at that, Arthur loudest of all. “That’s something that would only happen to you, Merlin,” he said. His words, which should have sounded derisive, seemed more affectionate than anything else. “Keep away from the trees. We actually want to have people left to defend when Kanen arrives.”
“Yes, sire,” Merlin replied, a small grin tugging at his lips. Hunith glanced from one to the other, a surprised and happy expression on her face, and Morgana answered Gwen’s questioning look with a smile of her own.
*
Morgana might like to tease Arthur about beating him at swordplay when they were younger, but he had always had a keen sense of battle strategies and there was no one else that she’d rather follow.
She told him as much the next morning after breakfast when she followed him outside of Hunith’s little house, after Arthur had pressed his bowl of unwanted gruel into Gwen’s hands and sent Merlin for more wood. He now stood looking over the area he’d chosen to train the men, his arms folded and his eyes critical.
“I saw how they were watching you yesterday,” she said. “They trust you, Arthur. They’ll follow you - the men and the women.”
He glanced at her. “I’m not training the women.”
“Why?” There was a challenging note to her voice. “Do you think we can’t handle it?”
“These women aren’t like you, Morgana,” he replied. “They weren’t trained by knights when they were little girls. They’re peasants; they don’t know how to fight. They’d run at the first sign of battle.”
“And how does that make them different from the men? I doubt that any of them have ever seen a battle. They’re not soldiers.”
Arthur frowned stubbornly. “They’ll learn. I’ll see to it.”
“Didn’t you hear what Hunith said yesterday?” she demanded, her frustration growing. “She’s willing to fight to protect her village. I’m sure she isn’t the only one.”
“I won’t risk Merlin’s mother,” he snapped. “Or you, or Gwen, or any of the other women. It’s too dangerous.”
“But we-”
“No, Morgana,” he said sharply. “What do you think Father would say if I let anything happen to you?”
She was suddenly aware of the stillness in the house behind them and she, too, fell quiet, knowing that Hunith could hear everything that they said. Arthur mistook her silence for agreement and continued more gently. “There are ways that you can help. Today you and Gwen can check on the weapons supply. Make any necessary repairs. And on the day of the battle I’ll need you both to lead the women and children to the woods where they’ll be safe. Can I count on you to do that?”
After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded. “Good,” he said, turning away. The men were beginning to gather, looking awkward and bewildered but eager to learn. Morgana watched for a moment as Arthur arranged them into lines before she too turned aside and went looking for Gwen.
*
That night Morgana and Gwen stayed awake for a long while, talking about the upcoming battle. She was proud of Gwen for speaking up to Arthur earlier in the day, and had been content to remain mostly quiet during their exchange in hopes that he would listen to someone else. But he’d dismissed Gwen just as easily, and just as stubbornly, and now they were left whispering in the dark about how slim their chances were.
“Why do you think he came here?” Gwen asked, sounding genuinely perplexed.
Morgana’s eyes slid past Gwen and over to Arthur, who slept soundly, breathing deep. Then she looked at Merlin, lying on his side and facing away from them, his body held so stiffly that she knew he was awake and listening.
She had nearly said something sharp and unflattering about Arthur but now, knowing that Merlin would hear, she spoke the truth.
“The same reason we did,” she replied. “Merlin. Arthur may act like he doesn’t care but he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t.”
Beside her Gwen was quiet and thoughtful, but beyond her Morgana could see Merlin’s shoulders relax as the tension suddenly left his body, and she closed her eyes and smiled, knowing that he had heard.
*
The following day, after Kanen sent Matthew’s body back to the village, the women gathered in his house, standing or sitting in a protective huddle around his widow. Morgana looked around at their weathered faces and knew that Arthur was wrong. These women were brave and used to hard work. They’d want to fight to protect their homes.
Beside her she saw Gwen similarly assessing them and coming to the same conclusion. Their eyes met and Gwen nodded, smiling encouragingly. Morgana stepped forward.
“Arthur wants to send the women and children to the woods tomorrow,” she said. Several of the women looked up, a few nodding in agreement but others, like Hunith, looking rebellious. Matthew’s widow, her face still buried in Hunith’s shoulder, did not stir.
“He’s right; you would be safer there,” she continued. “But this is your home, and we want to know what you think.”
For a moment the room was silent. A few of the women glanced at Hunith, as if waiting for her decision, but her attention was on Matthew’s widow, who had finally looked up.
“I want to fight,” she said. Her face was pale and her eyes were red, but her voice was calm and determined. “I will fight, for Matthew.”
A murmur of agreement swept through the room. “Those are our husbands out there,” another woman said. “Our sons.”
“And you have just as much right to fight as they do,” Gwen said.
“We won’t leave them,” someone called from the back, and more voices spoke in agreement.
“But we’ll still need some of you to lead the children to safety,” Morgana said. Her eyes fell on a pair of young women standing by the door, looking frightened. She smiled at them gently. “Will you do it?”
The women glanced at each other and nodded. “Yes,” one replied, the relief evident in her voice. “We’ll look after them.”
“Now,” Gwen said to her over the growing din of voices discussing the battle, “we just need to convince Arthur.”
Morgana looked at her and smiled. “You will.”
*
The night before the battle Morgana lay awake for a long while, this time without Gwen’s conversation for company. It was silent in Hunith’s house, with nothing more to listen to than the quiet sounds of the others’ breathing, and she wondered idly about what would happen if she had one of her nightmares right now.
She wondered how the others would react, if they would look at her differently in the morning. She couldn’t imagine Arthur pitying her as she knew Gwen sometimes did, but she thought that perhaps Merlin would understand.
When they were looking after the Druid boy she had thought that she saw something like understanding in his eyes, a flicker of acceptance that for the first time gave her a sense that there was someone else like her, someone else who was different. And although the moment had passed before Morgana felt comfortable enough to tell him about her dreams, the feelings of friendship had remained. She now considered Merlin one of the few people she could trust, even though she didn’t trust anyone enough to reveal her growing suspicions that her dreams actually could tell the future - but sometimes she wondered if Gaius had guessed at the truth.
But Gaius wasn’t here now, and neither were his sleeping draughts, and yet she hadn’t had any nightmares since she had left Camelot. She didn’t have one that night, either, and when Morgana woke in the morning it was with no memory of her dreams, and no foreknowledge of what fate the battle would bring.
*
Later, after they had won the battle and stood respectfully by Will’s funeral pyre, they took their leave of Hunith and the other villagers and headed back on the road to Camelot.
They rode mostly in silence, a far cry from the cheerful conversation and banter that had accompanied their journey to Ealdor. Their minds were never far from the battle, and when they made their camp in the woods that night they ate quietly, with only a few hushed words passing between them. When they were finished Morgana and Gwen slipped away, leaving Merlin staring into the campfire looking like did when he had watched Will’s pyre earlier in the day, with Arthur beside him once more, an unspeaking but comforting presence.
They went only a short distance away, close enough to still feel the fire’s warmth but far enough that they could speak quietly without disturbing the others. They spread out their blankets and made ready for bed, but once they were settled neither one was ready to sleep.
The weather was fine and the sky was clear and filled with stars. Gwen was watching them but Morgana was watching her and Arthur and Merlin, and didn’t spare the sky more than a cursory glance.
“Is it true what they say, my lady?” she asked after a moment. She glanced at Arthur and lowered her voice before continuing. “That a person can see their future in the stars?”
Morgana remembered the astronomy lessons she’d had with Arthur when they were children, the long hours spent memorising the constellations, bundled in heavy cloaks against the cold as they stood atop one of the castle’s towers, studying the sky. Then she cast her thoughts further back to when she was very young, before she had ever come to Camelot. She recalled her old nurse telling her about the stars, saying that if they were aligned in a certain way, a person could tell his or her fortune.
It was magic of a kind, she supposed, and not something people spoke of openly under Uther’s rule, but Morgana nodded and said, “Some people think so. They believe that the stars will predict the weather, or tell them if there will be a good harvest, or if a person will find luck or love.”
Gwen shivered a little. “I don’t think I’d want to know,” she confessed before she smiled and shook her head, as if she thought that she was being foolish.
But Morgana thought of the things she had seen in her dreams, the strange images that she never quite understood but, more often than not, seemed to come true. She thought of those glimpses, always brief and always indistinct, of something that might be the future - a sword and a lake, a great hall crowded with people, and Arthur as king with Merlin never far from his side. Once she had even thought that she saw Gwen wearing a crown, but she never saw anything about herself.
Morgana blinked and the memories fled, taking with them the bright lights of the hall and the throne and the sword and the crown. She was left lying in a small camp in the woods, looking towards the huddled shapes of Merlin and Arthur by the fire, with Gwen at her side and watching her in concern.
“My lady?” she said softly, placing a gentle hand on her brow, and when Morgana turned to look at her she smiled, wide and reassuring.
She didn’t need the stars to tell her anything.
Author: Anonymous
Recipient: camelotsolstice
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Morgana, Gwen, Arthur, and Merlin
Warnings: None
Spoilers: Takes place during episode 1x10, “The Moment of Truth”
Rating: G
Word Count: 2,515
Summary: “That poor woman,” she said to Gwen later, after they’d helped Hunith to Gaius’ chambers and returned to Morgana’s rooms. Gwen bit her lip and nodded, looking distracted as she rummaged through the mending basket, and Morgana watched her for a moment before she spoke. “I’m going with her.”
Author's Note: Some lines of dialogue are borrowed directly from “The Moment of Truth.” The title comes from John Donne’s Song. Thank you to 'S' for the beta.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction - none of this ever happened. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is made from this work. Please observe your local laws with regards to the age-limit and content of this work.
It began with a dream - a dream of a solitary woman walking along the road to Camelot, of swords glinting in the sunlight and an arrow finding its mark - but when Morgana woke, her heart pounding and her eyes wide and staring in the darkness, she was surprisingly unafraid.
She felt none of the despair that her dreams so often caused, none of the terror that usually left her screaming in the dead of night. Instead she felt a strange need to move, a curious sense that she needed to go to the place she had seen in her dream and help in some way.
And so when she saw the woman from her dream - Merlin’s mother - kneeling before Uther’s throne the following day, Morgana knew exactly what she must do.
“That poor woman,” she said to Gwen later, after they’d helped Hunith to Gaius’ chambers, trying to reassure her along the way, and returned to Morgana’s rooms. Gwen bit her lip and nodded, looking distracted as she rummaged through the mending basket, and Morgana watched her for a moment before she spoke.
“I’m going with her.”
Gwen’s head lifted, the blue gown she had chosen dangling loosely from her hand. “My lady!” she said, sounding shocked.
“I have to,” Morgana went on, and she wanted to say, because I’ve seen it in my dreams, but she couldn’t risk admitting that to anyone, not even to Gwen. “Merlin helped me rescue the Druid boy. I owe it to him.”
Gwen still hadn’t spoken, and Morgana stepped across the room and reached for her hands, setting the forgotten gown aside. “But I won’t put you in danger again. I’m sorry that I put you at risk at all when we were hiding the boy here. I want you to stay in Camelot, where you’ll be safe.”
“No,” Gwen replied, with a determined shake of her head. “Merlin is my friend too, and I want to help him, like he helped me. He saved my life.” She looked up at Morgana and smiled. “And I wouldn’t let you leave without me, my lady. Wherever you go, I’ll follow.”
Morgana smiled and gave Gwen’s hands a brief squeeze before turning away. “We’d better get started then,” she said, tying her hair in an untidy knot. “We have work to do.”
*
She wasn’t entirely surprised when she woke and found Arthur at their makeshift camp, stalking around the place and ordering Merlin to gather their belongings and to see to the horses. Merlin complied cheerfully and uncharacteristically without complaint, but Morgana saw him looking at Arthur every now and again as if he couldn’t believe that he had actually defied his father just to help him. She caught Gwen looking too, once or twice, studying Arthur with her head tilted as though he were something that she didn’t quite understand before turning away, awkward and embarrassed when he caught her watching.
Their little group’s high spirits continued when they took to the road, and as they drew closer to the village Merlin entertained them all with stories about his childhood in Ealdor and vivid descriptions of its people.
“I think they’ll all be really happy to see us,” he said. “Well, except for Old Man Simmons.” He darted a look at his mother, who gave him a fond smile. “He didn’t like me very much.”
“I can’t imagine why,” Arthur said dryly, though Morgana could see the amusement in his eyes. “What did you do to him?”
“A few years ago I, uh, chopped down a tree and it nearly landed on him,” Merlin replied, ducking his head and giving a small, embarrassed shrug.
They all laughed at that, Arthur loudest of all. “That’s something that would only happen to you, Merlin,” he said. His words, which should have sounded derisive, seemed more affectionate than anything else. “Keep away from the trees. We actually want to have people left to defend when Kanen arrives.”
“Yes, sire,” Merlin replied, a small grin tugging at his lips. Hunith glanced from one to the other, a surprised and happy expression on her face, and Morgana answered Gwen’s questioning look with a smile of her own.
*
Morgana might like to tease Arthur about beating him at swordplay when they were younger, but he had always had a keen sense of battle strategies and there was no one else that she’d rather follow.
She told him as much the next morning after breakfast when she followed him outside of Hunith’s little house, after Arthur had pressed his bowl of unwanted gruel into Gwen’s hands and sent Merlin for more wood. He now stood looking over the area he’d chosen to train the men, his arms folded and his eyes critical.
“I saw how they were watching you yesterday,” she said. “They trust you, Arthur. They’ll follow you - the men and the women.”
He glanced at her. “I’m not training the women.”
“Why?” There was a challenging note to her voice. “Do you think we can’t handle it?”
“These women aren’t like you, Morgana,” he replied. “They weren’t trained by knights when they were little girls. They’re peasants; they don’t know how to fight. They’d run at the first sign of battle.”
“And how does that make them different from the men? I doubt that any of them have ever seen a battle. They’re not soldiers.”
Arthur frowned stubbornly. “They’ll learn. I’ll see to it.”
“Didn’t you hear what Hunith said yesterday?” she demanded, her frustration growing. “She’s willing to fight to protect her village. I’m sure she isn’t the only one.”
“I won’t risk Merlin’s mother,” he snapped. “Or you, or Gwen, or any of the other women. It’s too dangerous.”
“But we-”
“No, Morgana,” he said sharply. “What do you think Father would say if I let anything happen to you?”
She was suddenly aware of the stillness in the house behind them and she, too, fell quiet, knowing that Hunith could hear everything that they said. Arthur mistook her silence for agreement and continued more gently. “There are ways that you can help. Today you and Gwen can check on the weapons supply. Make any necessary repairs. And on the day of the battle I’ll need you both to lead the women and children to the woods where they’ll be safe. Can I count on you to do that?”
After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded. “Good,” he said, turning away. The men were beginning to gather, looking awkward and bewildered but eager to learn. Morgana watched for a moment as Arthur arranged them into lines before she too turned aside and went looking for Gwen.
*
That night Morgana and Gwen stayed awake for a long while, talking about the upcoming battle. She was proud of Gwen for speaking up to Arthur earlier in the day, and had been content to remain mostly quiet during their exchange in hopes that he would listen to someone else. But he’d dismissed Gwen just as easily, and just as stubbornly, and now they were left whispering in the dark about how slim their chances were.
“Why do you think he came here?” Gwen asked, sounding genuinely perplexed.
Morgana’s eyes slid past Gwen and over to Arthur, who slept soundly, breathing deep. Then she looked at Merlin, lying on his side and facing away from them, his body held so stiffly that she knew he was awake and listening.
She had nearly said something sharp and unflattering about Arthur but now, knowing that Merlin would hear, she spoke the truth.
“The same reason we did,” she replied. “Merlin. Arthur may act like he doesn’t care but he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t.”
Beside her Gwen was quiet and thoughtful, but beyond her Morgana could see Merlin’s shoulders relax as the tension suddenly left his body, and she closed her eyes and smiled, knowing that he had heard.
*
The following day, after Kanen sent Matthew’s body back to the village, the women gathered in his house, standing or sitting in a protective huddle around his widow. Morgana looked around at their weathered faces and knew that Arthur was wrong. These women were brave and used to hard work. They’d want to fight to protect their homes.
Beside her she saw Gwen similarly assessing them and coming to the same conclusion. Their eyes met and Gwen nodded, smiling encouragingly. Morgana stepped forward.
“Arthur wants to send the women and children to the woods tomorrow,” she said. Several of the women looked up, a few nodding in agreement but others, like Hunith, looking rebellious. Matthew’s widow, her face still buried in Hunith’s shoulder, did not stir.
“He’s right; you would be safer there,” she continued. “But this is your home, and we want to know what you think.”
For a moment the room was silent. A few of the women glanced at Hunith, as if waiting for her decision, but her attention was on Matthew’s widow, who had finally looked up.
“I want to fight,” she said. Her face was pale and her eyes were red, but her voice was calm and determined. “I will fight, for Matthew.”
A murmur of agreement swept through the room. “Those are our husbands out there,” another woman said. “Our sons.”
“And you have just as much right to fight as they do,” Gwen said.
“We won’t leave them,” someone called from the back, and more voices spoke in agreement.
“But we’ll still need some of you to lead the children to safety,” Morgana said. Her eyes fell on a pair of young women standing by the door, looking frightened. She smiled at them gently. “Will you do it?”
The women glanced at each other and nodded. “Yes,” one replied, the relief evident in her voice. “We’ll look after them.”
“Now,” Gwen said to her over the growing din of voices discussing the battle, “we just need to convince Arthur.”
Morgana looked at her and smiled. “You will.”
*
The night before the battle Morgana lay awake for a long while, this time without Gwen’s conversation for company. It was silent in Hunith’s house, with nothing more to listen to than the quiet sounds of the others’ breathing, and she wondered idly about what would happen if she had one of her nightmares right now.
She wondered how the others would react, if they would look at her differently in the morning. She couldn’t imagine Arthur pitying her as she knew Gwen sometimes did, but she thought that perhaps Merlin would understand.
When they were looking after the Druid boy she had thought that she saw something like understanding in his eyes, a flicker of acceptance that for the first time gave her a sense that there was someone else like her, someone else who was different. And although the moment had passed before Morgana felt comfortable enough to tell him about her dreams, the feelings of friendship had remained. She now considered Merlin one of the few people she could trust, even though she didn’t trust anyone enough to reveal her growing suspicions that her dreams actually could tell the future - but sometimes she wondered if Gaius had guessed at the truth.
But Gaius wasn’t here now, and neither were his sleeping draughts, and yet she hadn’t had any nightmares since she had left Camelot. She didn’t have one that night, either, and when Morgana woke in the morning it was with no memory of her dreams, and no foreknowledge of what fate the battle would bring.
*
Later, after they had won the battle and stood respectfully by Will’s funeral pyre, they took their leave of Hunith and the other villagers and headed back on the road to Camelot.
They rode mostly in silence, a far cry from the cheerful conversation and banter that had accompanied their journey to Ealdor. Their minds were never far from the battle, and when they made their camp in the woods that night they ate quietly, with only a few hushed words passing between them. When they were finished Morgana and Gwen slipped away, leaving Merlin staring into the campfire looking like did when he had watched Will’s pyre earlier in the day, with Arthur beside him once more, an unspeaking but comforting presence.
They went only a short distance away, close enough to still feel the fire’s warmth but far enough that they could speak quietly without disturbing the others. They spread out their blankets and made ready for bed, but once they were settled neither one was ready to sleep.
The weather was fine and the sky was clear and filled with stars. Gwen was watching them but Morgana was watching her and Arthur and Merlin, and didn’t spare the sky more than a cursory glance.
“Is it true what they say, my lady?” she asked after a moment. She glanced at Arthur and lowered her voice before continuing. “That a person can see their future in the stars?”
Morgana remembered the astronomy lessons she’d had with Arthur when they were children, the long hours spent memorising the constellations, bundled in heavy cloaks against the cold as they stood atop one of the castle’s towers, studying the sky. Then she cast her thoughts further back to when she was very young, before she had ever come to Camelot. She recalled her old nurse telling her about the stars, saying that if they were aligned in a certain way, a person could tell his or her fortune.
It was magic of a kind, she supposed, and not something people spoke of openly under Uther’s rule, but Morgana nodded and said, “Some people think so. They believe that the stars will predict the weather, or tell them if there will be a good harvest, or if a person will find luck or love.”
Gwen shivered a little. “I don’t think I’d want to know,” she confessed before she smiled and shook her head, as if she thought that she was being foolish.
But Morgana thought of the things she had seen in her dreams, the strange images that she never quite understood but, more often than not, seemed to come true. She thought of those glimpses, always brief and always indistinct, of something that might be the future - a sword and a lake, a great hall crowded with people, and Arthur as king with Merlin never far from his side. Once she had even thought that she saw Gwen wearing a crown, but she never saw anything about herself.
Morgana blinked and the memories fled, taking with them the bright lights of the hall and the throne and the sword and the crown. She was left lying in a small camp in the woods, looking towards the huddled shapes of Merlin and Arthur by the fire, with Gwen at her side and watching her in concern.
“My lady?” she said softly, placing a gentle hand on her brow, and when Morgana turned to look at her she smiled, wide and reassuring.
She didn’t need the stars to tell her anything.