Once Upon A Midnight (1/3)

[lovepb]

Prologue

Once upon a midnight clear, a fairytale stretched her wings. With hair of moon, skin of night and wings phoenix feather, she flickered in the corner of mortal’s eyes - never quite being seen.

Those mortals often imagine that the laughter of little children is what gives such fairytales their wings. But mortals know little of this world, as that which propels these heavenly creatures into the air is not the whims of children, but the hopes and dreams of their mothers. For theirs is a more ardent yearning. Life always sees to that.

In a castle not so far away in appearance from that of a tale beginning ‘Once upon a time’, one such mother dreamed of the day all of her dreams would come true. It was a day that was only a week away and could not come fast enough.

“You must know a little of what goes on,” the Queen pleaded with her Knight and protector. They lay in the darkness, separated by fear - one laying her head down in a bed fit for a Queen, her hair splayed out on her cloud-like pillow, and the other lay on a hard mattress a mere inch off the floor, her golden curls a plaited rope over one shoulder.

“None,” Morgause repeated, looking up into the shrouding darkness. Her back ached and she wanted nothing more than to lie in that soft Queen’s bed, her hands on the curve of her Queen’s lithe waist. “Only those who have been through the ceremony know anything of it. The High Priestesses of old decreed it so. No one quite knows why, but we are not expected to understand what they in their infinite wisdom could. Some say it is to prevent the commitment being overshadowed by the event afore it. Some say that there are tests which we must pass.”

Morgana’s heart was fluttering, but through fear or anticipation, she did not know. According to the law of the kingdom, she had been wed to the King for four years. To those who followed the Old Religion and kept sacred its laws and customs, however, she was unwed and still bore the name Le Fay, not Pendragon. Soon, that would change. Soon she would be Morgause’s and finally free. That was her fairytale.

“But how will I know what to do? What if I do something wrong and anger the Gods?”

Morgause sighed, smiling at her fiancée’s worry. “You will not anger the Gods, Morgana. They know all, past and future. If you were destined to anger them, they would not have smiled on us so. Flor will be there to guide you through the ceremony, as Rivalen will be for me. If there are any tests, I think they will be more designed to test me than you.”

What Morgause did not say was that the one thing she did know was that, as she had seven years on her wife-to-be and would so be assumed to be in possession of greater power and wisdom, she would be considered dominant. She would swear to protect Morgana and, in return, Morgana would swear allegiance to her and her family for as long as their marriage blossomed. Morgana would be only too happy to agree, of that Morgause was sure, but becoming her protector in the eyes of the Gods made Morgause uneasy. It was a promise she was not sure that she could uphold, not whilst the law still decreed that Morgana was Uther’s.

“You were young together when Flor married Rivalen, were you not?” Morgana asked. She already knew the answer, and when Morgause confirmed it, she continued, “And did you not talk about what had happened, afterwards?”

Morgause sighed. Flor had been stubbornly loyal to Rivalen after they had been wed, and had held her tongue for the most part. “All she told me was that it was wonderful.”

But Flor had been eighteen, unfamiliar with magic and maiden, and had likely been easily impressed. Morgause only hoped that Flor’s rosy memory of that night would sweeten her and Morgana’s joining, whatever it would entail.

“I do not doubt that,” Morgana whispered, wonder in her voice. She did not believe anything of the Old Religion could be anything but wondrous. Despite everything she had been through, she still had a forgiving and romantic heart. She believed in the best in people - even Uther - and trusted in the wisdom and goodness of the Gods. Morgana Pendragon believed in fairytales. And that fairytale would make her a Wilde.

Her Wilde, though, had long since given up on such fantasies. Life was never that kind.

Chapter 1, Day 1

Being the Queen’s guard entailed a number of duties that Morgause could never have foreseen when she had been picked for the post. Chief among them was nurse to a sniffling toddler of a Prince.

“Gwuhh,” Finnian fussed, twisting in Morgause’s grip.

“Hush now, my little Prince. People will think you near as noisy as your sister,” Morgause teased, pressing a soothing kiss to the blonde boy’s head. “Amina will give you something cool to chew on, just like last time, and you can go back to being a happy, quiet little boy.” Under her breath she whispered, “And I can go back to getting more than three hours sleep a night.”

Morgana’s trusted friend and physician, Amina, had been east to a village suffering from an unexplained sickness. Though Gaius still remained at court, Morgana had decided to wait for Amina to return, rather than take her chances with Uther’s old friend. Gaius’s medicine had more oft than not been bitter, and Morgana would save her babes from it, if she could.

“Gwuhh,” Finnian repeated, softer this time. Almost like an apology.

“I really do wait in eager anticipation for the day that you and your sister master the word “Morgause” and I can cease being known as “Gwuhh”,” Morgause muttered, jiggling the fussing Prince. “It would not be near as annoying should your mother not collapse into giggles every time one of you utters it.”

She could not complain too ardently, though - they had no word for Uther.

As they arrived at the physician chambers, Morgause shifted Finnian to her hip, flattened his unruly hair and knocked on the door. The Prince could not meet his public looking like a ruffian.

“Come in,” came Gaius’ voice, creaking like an old, unoiled door.

Morgause bit her lip and gave Finnian a worried look. “Once more into the fray, little one.”

“Gaius,” she greeted on entering. “How nice it is to see you. Unexpected, but nice.”

“Lady Morgause, it is a pleasure. And the young Prince too. Should he not be in the care of his mother? Or failing that, his father?” Gaius asked, all pleasant smiles and hidden barbs. It made Morgause’s blood run cold.

“Our Queen is with her daughter and the King is far too busy ruling our great kingdom and securing alliances to see to such trivial matters. Surely you know that, as one of his most trusted advisors,” Morgause said mildly as Finnian turned into her neck, curling up against her.

“Too true, more’s the pity,” Gaius replied, unable to disagree. The King had been busy cementing relations with one dignitary in particular - the Worchester Princess. She never left her extensive chambers but those servants who attended her reported that she was heavy with child. Getting bastards on the daughters of men he had, by proxy, slain in battle was evidently a more important use of the King’s time than was being a father to his two trueborn heirs.

As if to bring the conversation back to its intended subject, Finnian uttered a whimpering little cry against Morgause’s neck. That at least seemed to garner Gaius’ sympathy.

“The poor little lad. Is it his teeth again? I did warn you not to trust in that woman’s treatment. My yarrow root blend would have seen to the pain long ago,” Gaius lectured, stepping forward to take a look at the child. “Let me see him.”

Reluctantly, Morgause uncurled Finnian’s arm from around her neck and held him out for Gaius to take. The second he left Morgause’s arms, Finnian began to wail. Such was the volume of his cries that Gaius barely had a chance to look into his mouth before the ringing in his ears forced him to hand the wriggling child back to Morgause - in whose arms he instantly calmed.

The slow trickle of magic that Morgause had been feeding him on night and day had been draining in the extreme, but it was the only way to soothe the boy’s tears and she gave of it gladly. She only wished there was some other way.

“Yes, the yarrow root should do it,” Gaius said decisively, as though his examination had been a fruitful one. He crossed to the shelving on the far wall and plucked up two small violet bottles, coloured to hide the acrid brown-green of the potion within. “Rub a little of this on his gums thrice daily and return to me on the fourth day. If he is still complaining of the pain, there are some stronger salves I can concoct, but at his age I would rather wait until it is completely necessary. The willowbark and nettle concoctions all have some very nasty side effects that a growing Prince can do without.”

Morgause nodded diligently, filing the information away in her mind so that she might follow his advice to the letter. Gaius might not be as skilled a physician as Amina, but his treatments had served the knights well enough for as long as Morgause had been amongst their ranks, and long before that.

“The Queen sends her sincerest thanks for your help,” Morgause smiled, bowing her head to him.

“Does she now?” Gaius scoffed. “That is peculiar, seeing as I have had reports of the Prince’s suffering for near a week now and only today - the day that Amina was due back - have you seen fit to come seeking help.”

Morgause’s mouth froze in a surprised ‘O’.

“The… The Queen was hoping to procure some more of Amina’s remedy as the children like its taste so much. It is so hard to implore babes to take a bitter medicine,” Morgause tried to explain. “It was not intended to be an insult to yourself, Sir.”

“Nothing is ever meant as insult, I am sure,” Gaius said harshly, his eyes flashing with anger. “Just as I am sure you would wish no insult to our great King.”

Confused, Morgause replied, “Of course not!”

“Yet still you bed his wife!” Gaius shouted, striking the table at his side with such force that he sent a tower of books clattering to the floor.

Finnian jumped at the din and began to cry in earnest, screeching louder than Morgause had ever heard him cry. His tiny hands fisted in her shirt and hair, clinging to her to keep him safe even as he struggled against her hold.

For a split second, Morgause wondered what to do. She had thought on it many a dark night when she slept in her own cold bed on the floor of Morgana’s chambers. To fight or to flee. To deny or admit her guilt.

“I charge you to hold your tongue!” Morgause bit. “To slander the Queen is a crime akin to treason.”

“The definition of slander is to utter something damaging and, above all, false, is it not, my lady?”

Morgause was silent.

“Then what I have said is not slander. As both you and I know that what I have claimed is true. As it is true that you plan to take our virtuous Queen as your own in a pagan ceremony within the week. You were not as alone as you thought on the night of your injury and I know a little of the Old Religion and its ways. A couple must wait one year from the day of their engagement for their joining, is that not right? That would make the day of reckoning six nights from this,” Gaius declared, knowing that he was right and that he had Morgause by the throat.

“I was once the only physician at court. Favoured by all the great nobles in our fine city. Now I stand in the shadow of a foreign whore brought to court by your slut of Queen. Right that wrong and I will keep your filthy secret. Fail to bring me Amina’s head before the day of your joining, and I will tell the King of his Queen’s betrayal and see to it that it is your head and the Queen’s that will roll from the executioners block,” Gaius threatened, his voice as cold and hard as steel. He had been planning this for some time, Morgause realised.

“You would not,” Morgause choked, the thought making her feel dizzy and detached from the world before her eyes. “Not to Morgana.”

“Would I not?” The old man’s mouth twisted in a sickening smile. “You have six days to find out. Are you willing to make that bet? A bet on her life and that of her magical bastards. Do not forget that the King has a noble lady shut up inside this castle who proved eagerly fertile for his seed. Morgana quickened only when you came into her life. The risk of the implications are too strong for the King to take. Especially when he can do away with the Le Fay whore and sit the pretty young Worchester on her throne in time for her to ripen and give him a trueborn heir. Such will be my council when he asks for it.” He gave the child in Morgause’s arms a cold once over from crown to toe. “Make your decision wisely or I will make everything you have built around you come tumbling down like a house of cards.” He smirked. “Your move Lady Wilde.”

~*~

Gwen gasped and Morgana was worryingly silent when Morgause relayed her conversation with Gaius to them in the safety of the Queen’s chambers. She had seriously considered holding her tongue, but she could see no way out of their quandary and Morgana had known something was terribly wrong the moment she had walked through the door.

“And we have six days?” Morgana asked calmly, too calmly. “Six, including today?”

Biting her lip, Morgause nodded. Finnian squirmed obliviously on her knee as she sat shaky legged on a chair by the fire, Finnian reaching out for his mother who stood impassively in the centre of the room.

“Did he say why Amina has not yet returned?” Morgana continued. She looked down at Finnian’s reaching hands and then back up to Morgause, deciding against taking him.

“She sent word yesterday. She will be two days late. He suggested…” She broke off, unable to say it.

“He suggested that you intercept her,” Morgana guessed. Concentration darkened her features. “No, that is not the course of action we will take,” she declared after a long pause.

Morgause’s stomach turned. She had thought about it. Morgana had actually considered it.

“Morgana!” Morgause was aghast. “How could you-”

“What?” Morgana interrupted. “How could I what? Consider every course of action in the defence of my children. Our children. Who are, need I remind you, no more than babes - barely weaned - and already their lives are at risk because of the choices I have made. It is I who have made this mess and I who will resolve it.”

Gwen rushed in and took Finnian from the angering Knight as she rose to her feet, almost forgetting that he was there. Morgana’s lady-in-waiting gathered her two young charges and ushered them into the room which had once been Morgause’s bedroom. Both women paused to watch her go, their hearts breaking as Isolde looked, red-faced, back at them over her shoulder as she waddled away, pulled by Gwen’s hand in hers.

“You hardly did this alone, Morgana!” Morgause sniped when the children were out of earshot.

“No, I did not. But ultimately the blame lies with me. I swore to be faithful to a King in the full knowledge that if I were to break that vow, I would forfeit my life. I knew that when we kissed in the woods. I knew it when I let you take me to bed. I knew it when I made my children yours and when I promised to bind myself to you. All of this I did knowing that one day it could cost me my life.” Morgana hesitated, her cheeks reddening in anger and her nostrils flaring like a stallion about to charge. “All of this I did without ever thinking of the risks I was taking on Finnian and Isolde’s lives. And now they might be forfeit. All because I decided that I was the only Queen to ever be treated badly by her husband and, because of this, deserving of comfort.” Her mouth pulled back in a distasteful grimace. “I have been waiting for the day it would all turn to ash. It seems that day has come.”

“It does not have to be that way. There must be a solution to this that does not have us stoop to that man’s level,” Morgause seethed. “If we do that then all we have fought to be will be for nought.” She walked shakily to Morgana’s side, but was unable to bring herself to touch this stranger of a woman. “You say that we are blessed by the Gods; that they watch over us. I do not believe that they would let this thing happen. Not after all they have granted to us.”

Something stirred in Morgana’s serene expression. Something that chilled Morgause to her soul.

“We will lose nothing but the sacrifice we chose to pay. What that sacrifice will be is ours to decide.” Morgana’s eyes drifted to the window, where the sun was reaching its highest point in its arch across the sky. “Six days.”

Chapter 2, Day 2

Though Uther was unlikely to come to Morgana that night, Queen and Knight slept what little sleep Finnian allowed them apart. Morgana had dashed the colourful glass bottles against the wall the moment she had seen them. It would be just like Gaius, she reasoned, to send poison in place of placation. The moment the smell of fennel rose from the broken glass, Morgause knew that she had been right. Fennel extract was a potent destabiliser of magic, which had been known to be fatal in excess. There had not been enough for that in the small bottles, but there was enough to serve as a warning that Gaius intended to follow through on his threats not only to Morgana and Morgause, but to the children as well.

At first light, Morgause set four guards outside Morgana’s chambers and disappeared with no further explanation of her destination than that she would be back by nightfall.

Gwen insisted that they give the children as normal a day as possible, setting out a picnic and wooden toys on a blanket in the light from the windows. It was in that light that Finnian finally seemed to get some relief. He drifted off to sleep clutching a wooden Knight with long flowing hair.

“What will we do?” Gwen asked her Queen and closest friend. “Five days is not a long time to come up with a plan.”

“One day is even less,” Morgana said, smiling sadly and squeezing Gwen’s arm in thanks for her ‘we’. “If Amina is back in Camelot before we make our decision, then any avenue of opportunity concerning her is all but gone.”

“You cannot have her killed, Morgana,” Gwen said softly.

Morgana laughed humourlessly. “Morgause seems to think me capable of it.”

“Only because she contemplated it first,” Gwen said astutely. “As did I. As did you. Any of the three of us would do more than kill for Finnian and Isolde. That is the way with children.”

Isolde picked up a handful of berries from a bowl and squished them between her fingers, giggling at the red mess and immediately making for her mother, arms outstretched. Seamlessly, Morgana caught her about the waist, pressed a kiss to her head and wiped away the offending red smear with a damp cloth.

“It is strange,” Morgana began, holding Isolde close, “that everyone talks of becoming a parent in terms of love, but never in terms of the hate you will feel for anyone who would dare to hurt your child. No one talks of the vile lengths you would go to in order to protect them.”

“You need to talk to Morgause. The two of you will find a way. You just need to admit the worst of your thoughts to one another and then find a way to overcome them.”

Morgana tilted her head and smiled at Gwen - not quite forgetting her troubles but allowing herself a moment to forsake them. “You were always the wisest woman in Camelot, Guinevere. What great heights this kingdom would rise to if you were Queen instead of me.”

Gwen could only blush and look away. She did not think anyone could be a greater Queen than Morgana.

~*~

Morgause’s uncle, Rivalen, flared with as much anger as Morgause had felt fear when she told him of Gaius’s threats.

“No,” he bit, his muscles tense, “he will not get away with this. Not if it takes every magical person in this city to bring him down. Do not think for one moment that we will let you take this on alone, my dear girl. You are a Wilde, and the blood of those babes runs thick with your magic. As does the Queen’s. If they only knew that the Queen and the heirs to Camelot were of their kind, every magical soul in the kingdom would rise up at your call.”

“I do not want revolution, uncle,” Morgause sighed, dropping her head into her hands. “I will not have any more blood spilled over my indiscretions than need be. If the King is unseated, there are a dozen declared allies of Camelot who will fall on us like a pack of wolves. And they would not stop until the Pendragon line was extinguished.”

That made Rivalen pause. “Then what do you want me to do?”

Morgause shrugged, tears forming in her eyes. “Tell me a way to end this bloodlessly.”

“That, I am afraid, is like impossible,” Rivalen conceded, sitting down beside Morgause and pulling her close. “But I promise that I will try.”

“We will not let you go through this alone.”

The vow did not come from Rivalen’s lips, but Morgause did not have to look up to know who had spoken it. It was Flor, her childhood friend and her uncle’s wife.

“Aye,” Rivalen agreed, “whatever the outcome might be.”

~*~

The sun was low and, despite the wintery month, almost warm by the time Morgause was making her way back through the streets to the castle that afternoon. She had stayed with her family longer than she had intended to, but the thought of facing Morgana had not been a prospect she had relished. So reluctant was she to return to her Queen, that Morgause took a long, meandering route back to her. She walked the lower market to hear the sound of ordinary daily life and then, when that became too much for her, she took to walking the smaller streets where people were fewer and the air quieter. It was down one of these streets that she was walking when a high, sweet voice called out her name.

“Morgause! Lady Wilde!” a woman’s voice called, singing the words as in a soothing melody.

Morgause turned on her heel and found herself face to face with the beauty that had fuelled nearly all of her youthful dreams - the ones that had not been centred around Morgana, that is. Emiline Evangelion, sister to Sir Leon Evangelion, stood in the middle of the road, her hands on the curves of her hips and her flame-red hair billowing in the winter wind. Her cheeks were pink from the cold and her lips as red as rubies. The gown she wore was a rich forest green that hugged her plentiful curves to show that their years apart and the bearing of three children had been more than kind to her. Morgause had seen her on a handful of occasions since she had returned to the city a little over a year earlier, but that had only been at formal occasions and the once she had dined with Sir Leon. At all of those occasions, she had never seen Emiline in anything other than her mourning dress - a thick and unbecoming black thing that had been her mother’s and her mother’s before that. In black, Emiline had looked nothing but a ghost of the woman who had fuelled Morgause’s fantasies. Seeing her suddenly out of black set Morgause’s pulse racing fast enough to make her light headed.

“Lady Evangelion,” Morgause greeted breathlessly, remembering her manners, but only just, “how nice it is to see you”

Emiline smiled sadly and there were tears in her eyes before Morgause realised her mistake.

“I am a Grosover now. Widowed, but still a Grosover.” Emiline’s voice had lost a little of its song and that made Morgause’s heart fall heavy as lead through her stomach. Her guilt doubled when she realised that Emiline looked even more beautiful melancholic.

“Oh Emiline, I must apologise. I did not think. I did not mean to…” her words trailed off and she bowed her head. “It is only that you are still an Evangelion in my mind. You left Camelot so soon after your wedding that I never had the chance to get used to you being a Grosover. I cannot apologise enough for my mistake. It was careless of me. Please, accept my most sincere apologies and condolences.”

“Only if you come in for a cup of wine,” Emiline bargained, taking the hand that Morgause held out in apology. “I have told my daughter so much about Camelot’s famous Lady Knight. She would love to meet you.”

Smiling shyly, Morgause agreed. Anything to put off facing Morgana.

It turned out that Emiline’s daughter was out playing with Tristan and Ellie, Rivalen and Flor’s children. Emiline promised that she would be back soon, but she did not return for the whole time that Morgause was there. The two youngest of Emiline’s children were at home, though - a girl of two named Sophia and another of three named Emiline, for her mother.

“Three girls,” Morgause had exclaimed. “I do not doubt that your late husband was in desperate want of a son, but I must say that they are the bonniest sisters I ever saw.”

And she was not embellishing. Sophia and her sister were the image of their mother. Both had hair as red as the flaming fire in the hearth and skin as pale as milk. Their eyes were a fetching shade of brown and both had mouths like downturned bows. They sat together as quiet as mice, playing with tiny people carved from wood and smiling shyly at the Knight in their kitchen.

Morgause smiled and took a sip of the sweet wine Emiline had poured for her. “They look like you.”

“You should see Daisy,” Emiline smiled, sitting close beside Morgause at the kitchen table, “she looks nothing like me. All I see in her is Leon.”

“Greying?” Morgause suggested.

Emiline laughed and it sounded to Morgause like a sweet peal of bells. “I meant she had light hair and his eyes.”

“Ah,” Morgause laughed, the wine singing in her veins. She had known that had been what Emiline meant all along. She had caught sight of Emiline’s eldest daughter playing with Ellie by the well one afternoon. She did indeed bring Leon to mind, with her pale sandy-brown curls.

“But her soul is more like yours at her age than Leon’s,” Emiline continued. “Strong and wise and destined for greatness. She is very taken with the idea of gallantry, like any girl her age, but she seems more interested in being the gallant one than being on the receiving end of it. Her father despaired when she would take up his sword and practice behind our house, but I loved to watch her. She could barely lift the steel but Leon has had a wooden one made for her and she has persuaded Tristan into duelling with her.”

“Oh, I was hardly that way when I was her age. I only became a Knight because my father had no sons to take up his place.”

Emiline brushed Morgause’s hair back off her shoulder. “Destiny has a way of getting what it wants, even if we do not always realise that it is what we want too.”

Morgause sighed. Morgana believed so fiercely in destiny that sometimes she refused to see the truth of their situation. “I wish it was that simple.”

Slowly, as if scared Morgause might dart away should she move too fast, Emiline leant in and pressed a soft kiss to Morgause’s cheek. “Anything can be that simple. We just have to let it happen.”

Instead of running, Morgause turned to her and said, “I need your help.”

Emiline smiled sweetly, her eyes saying that she would understand, that she would help. “Anything for you.”

~*~

Come evenfall, Knight and Queen were sat by the fire, indulging in the closeness that had eluded them for a day and a night. They had spent the evening playing with the children - kissing them and hugging them and tickling them until they giggled. When the children had finally fallen asleep, exhausted from the wealth of attention, Gwen had called for dinner enough to feed five men. Hardly a scrap of it was touched. Neither of them seemed to have an appetite beyond what could be filled by a cupful of wine.

“We need to talk about this,” Morgana broached, her head pillowed on Morgause’s shoulder and her hand resting above Morgause’s heart, fiddling with the pendant there.  “We need to make decisions.”

Morgause dropped the soft wood that she had been whittling into a toy horse for Isolde. They had not spoken a word about Gaius or Amina since she had returned. “And how are we supposed to do that? What way is there out of this, Morgana? Please tell me if you can see something that I do not.”

“That is why we need to talk,” Morgana sighed, being patient where Morgause had expected exasperation. She touched her hand to her temple and sighed. Morgause was angry at her, she knew. What she did not know was exactly why. “You helped to strategize a war which you later went on to win and I have survived four years being married to a man far more dangerous than Gaius. Between us, we can beat a weak old man.”

Morgause took a breath to protest but instead pressed a kiss to the crown of her love’s head. There would be no solution in them fighting. They never had been any good at it. “We need to get Gwen out of the city. Gaius will see that she must know of our secret. I will not risk her after all she has done for us.”

“I agree, she cannot stay. I met with her brother this afternoon to discuss it. I did not tell him why, but I impressed upon him the urgency of the danger towards his sister. He is to take Gwen and his family out of the city on the morrow. Uther would not see a smithy of his skill leave, so they must make their escape in the dead of night. It will be better that way. The guards and knights would not worry over a craftsman and his family leaving in the darkness. I doubt they will even ask for their names. My heart is heavy from going behind her back, but she would never consent to leave should Elyan not demand it. She was parted from him for too long to let it happen again. Especially now that he has given her a niece to dote on.”

“It is the right thing to do. She cannot be dragged into this. What of the children?” Morgause asked, gazing at their angelic sleeping faces, curled up on a wolf’s pelt by the fire. Finninan’s tiny hand was twitching in his sleep and Isolde’s breaths kept quickening in time with some dream. They always slept so close together. Morgana had tried to get them to sleep in separate cots but they would not have it. “I did not wish to presume, but I asked Rivalen and Flor to take them and go far away, should the worst come to pass. With your consent, of course.”

“You need not ask my consent,” Morgana whispered, sitting up and kissing her Knight. Morgause always asked. No matter what it was, she always asked and never assumed. Sometimes Morgana wished that she would assume some things. “You know that you already have it. They are our children. In what is right for them, we have always been of a mind. Why should this be any different? If it should come to it, we will find a way to smuggle them to your family. They are their kin. It is with them that they belong. If we are not to raise our babes, then they will be raised as Wildes, not Pendragons,” Morgana vowed. “I will not have Uther turn them against their people, nor will I have him make martyrs of them.”

A shiver ran through Morgause at that thought.

“I shall not let any harm come to them or to you, I can promise you that,” Morgause swore fiercely, her jaw set. Morgana ran her fingertips along the rigid muscles of her jaw, finding her Knight’s calloused fingers and kissing them. “If it comes to it, there are people in Camelot with the skill to make you and the children disappear. The crown would know that we had used magic, but that will not matter if it has progressed that far.”

Morgana smiled shyly, a blush coming to her cheeks.

“I believe in you,” she promised. “I would not be in your arms if I did not. And I would go nowhere if it were not by your side, where I belong.”

Tears slipped from Morgause’s eyes and Morgana leant up to kiss them from her cheeks.

“I will ride out to meet Amina come dawn,” Morgause said, laying out what little plan she had devised. “The longer she is in the dark, the longer we are without a proper plan. I have seen little of her magic and I do not pretend to understand it, but I know that she has great power and even greater knowledge. Equal at least to anyone in Camelot. If there is some trickery to be done, then she will have the skill to guide our hand.”

“I… I have some semblance of a plan,” Morgana admitted timidly. It did not sit well with her that she had concocted it with Gwen and not Morgause, but time was scarce and there was no time to wait out of sentimentality. That was not what made her timid, though. It was her lack of understanding and knowledge when it came to the ways of the Old Religion that made her shy. Though she knew that Morgause would never look down on her for it, it embarrassed her that she did not know the ways of Morgause’s people as truly as she would have if she had been raised in the traditions. So many complexities were lost on her and she often feared that Morgause would think her stupid because of it. “There is a tale in the book of fairytales you gave me for our first feast of Albannui together. It tells of a man who kept secrets for his trade and sold them to the highest bidder.”

“The Ferret of Frogsmarch,” Morgause remembered. “A thoroughly unpleasant creation.”

“The very same. In the tale, the young woman who he tricked into marrying him conceived  of a potion that when dabbed on her lips would make him loose every one of his secrets and his memory too the moment he kissed her.”

“If such magic is possible, I cannot do it,” Morgause admitted. “Those are tales with little if any truth, Morgana. If the potion was real, it would have stolen the woman’s memories the moment it touched her own lips.”

“I know,” Morgana said, eager to show that she was not always as ignorant as Morgause sometimes believed her to be. “But the idea has merit, does it not? Please, ask Amina if she has heard of anything of the like. There may not be any such thing in your repertoire, but there may be in hers. Promise me that you will ask,” Morgana begged. She could not bear to have Morgause think her foolish. “Amina’s magic is different from yours. She follows different rules and different Gods. May the Gods forgive me, but maybe they can do for us what our Gods cannot.”

“Anything for you. Anything to keep this. Gods be damned, but I would do anything.” When Morgause kissed her, she stole her breath from her lips, obliterating any thought that Morgause might think badly of her. Morgana knew then that she could never be anything less than a Queen to Morgause, and that Morgause would never be anything less than the most gallant and perfect Knight to her.

Chapter 3, Day 3

Thundering hard across the plain was not something that Morgause had anticipated finding soothing, but it was. Ever since her faithful mount, Dream, had been slain at the battle of Ignis Valle, the once comforting act of riding had become a chore and a drain. Leon had offered her one of Dream’s foals, but the eerie resemblance between all four choices and their sire made the water in Morgause’s mouth sour. Instead, she had taken on a young stallion that had been nothing more than a colt when she had gone to war. He was chestnut, bright eyed and had a flicker of white on his forehead, so Morgause had named him Bright Star. She had taken him out for his first run in heavy armour with Sir Leon only three days before and his speed had made the Commander joke that he should be renamed Shooting Star. It was that speed that flew Morgause to Amina before she had even crossed into the farmed land which surrounded the City of Camelot on all but one side.

“My lady,” she greeted, bowing her head and panting hard. Bright Star threw his head and bucked a little. He wanted to run and for it never to end. Morgause had half a mind to let him.

Amina’s dark eyes narrowed. The wind was high and part of her long black hair had fallen loose of the fine saffron scarf that she sometimes wore about her head. The scarf seemed to weather travelling no better than Morgause’s tattered braid. “If you have come to meet me then your news cannot be good. Has the sickness spread to Camelot? To Morgana?”

“Nothing like that,” Morgause assured her. “But you are right that I do not bear good news.”

It was only then that Morgause noticed Amina’s daughter peeping out from behind her mother. She was only a year or two off being old enough to start apprenticing at a trade, but she was the slightest girl Morgause had ever seen. Her mother was slim, but Alleyah had a grace and slightness that was as worrying as it was enchanting.

“You may speak freely around my daughter. If she is to learn the ways of my work then she should hold the same confidences,” Amina said, though Morgause was not assured. “Please.”

Reluctantly, Morgause nodded. “Gaius knows of the Queen and I.”

Amina closed her eyes and sighed. She had been hoping that this day would never come. It was almost the perfect affair for a Queen to indulge in, and Amina had always thought better of Morgana for taking the risk to be happy. “And he is threatening to tell the King.”

“Yes.” Morgause’s horse started and she thought she saw something fiery and black out of the corner of her eye. When she turned, it was gone. And apparition of her worry, she assured herself.

“Has he issued you with any demands?”

Morgause looked uneasy, her eyes once again lingering on Alleyah.

Amina snorted. “My life, is it? I had wondered how long that oaf would put up with me.”

Though Morgause was sure that Alleyah understood, she saw no sign of distress in the child. As always, she was the picture of serenity. It was unsettling in the extreme.

“I have four days to deliver him your…” She would not say it in front of a child. No matter what Amina said. “… to deliver you to him.”

“But you have not come to kill me,” Amina said, tilting her head and smiling wryly. “My my, you really are the most gallant Knight in all the land. Anyone else would have struck my head from my shoulders the moment they came upon me.”

“I have arranged safe housing for you with an old friend of mine whom Gaius knows nothing of,” Morgause continued, trying not to be off put by Amina’s amusement. “I have come to take you to her.”

Amina arched her brow and nodded her acquiescence, smiling that troubling smile of hers again. It made Morgause keenly aware that having Amina on board was likely to either save them or damn them. There would be no middle ground.

~*~

Amina’s mother was waiting there for them when they got to the house. There was a rare crack in Alleyah’s serenity as she ran and hugged her grandmother tightly.

“Thank you for this,” Morgause said, resting her hand on Emiline’s arm. “You were the only one I could turn to.”

Emiline looked down at Morgause’s hand and smiled, covering it with her own. “Anything you ask.”

When she met Morgause’s eyes again, Morgause found herself smiling. “Oh, I have missed you Emiline.”

“Not half as much as I have missed you,” Emiline said. “The years have been so very kind to you Morgause. You are even more… you than you were at eighteen. Now, are you not going to tell me why I must shelter this friend of yours? Or at least who she is to you?”

Morgause’s smile fell. “I am afraid not. Not yet anyway. She is one of the physicians at court, that is how I know her. Your brother would not be whole were it not for her.”

Emiline chuckled and nodded. “Aye, I do believe he mentioned her. It is a testament to you that I will not ask any more questions. Though, I might have a favour to ask for in return when this is all over.”

At that moment, Morgause couldn’t imagine denying her anything.

~*~

When Morgana entered Gaius’ chambers, she did not knock, neither did she open the door gently. She was the Queen and, for all his high estimation of his own worth, Gaius was her servant and her subject and she would have nothing from him but the reverence she deserved.

“My-” Gaius bit his tongue before he could name her as his Queen. The surprise of her abrupt and unexpected entrance had startled him, but he quickly recovered. “What are you doing here?”

Moving with all the grace of a Queen, Morgana stepped into the room proper and glanced at the door, silently ordering him to shut it. He scrambled to do as she bid, a strange fear in his jagged movements.

“You had always been kind to me,” Morgana said once he had turned around to face her. It unsettled him that she was in the centre of his chambers and he was looking in from the doorway. “Dressed my skinned knees when I was a child. Nursed me when I was sick. When you found out that I was with child your eyes lit up near as bright as my husband’s did when I told him. Yet now you threaten the lives of me and my children. Why?”

“They are bastards,” he said with a careless laugh.

“I assure you, Gaius, that though the Lady Morgause is quite skilled in satisfying me, she is not quite capable of that,” Morgana snorted, conscious of keeping the upper hand. Her station was all she had in this argument and she would not let Gaius take that away from her by losing her dominance over him.

“Maybe not, but they are not our good King’s. Their skin bruises where fennel oil touches it, I observed that before they were even two days old. That is the mark of one with magic and Uther sure to God did not give them that.” Gaius’s face was hard and strange, where it had once been kindly and familiar. “You insult the King and the kingdom with your heathen carryings on and your bastard pups. I should have known when you were a child that you were trouble.”

“Would that be before or after Uther had you examine me to ensure that I was maiden?” Morgana asked coldly. “You checked every year from when I was fourteen to when I came of age and Uther declared at a feast, much to my surprise, that he would wed me the following day.”

“You ought to have been grateful,” Gaius said incredulously. “You hardly come from an untarnished family and still Uther took you as his ward with a view to making you his wife! If he had followed my council, he would have left you for some smith or tanner to claim in that broken down tower by the sea. That was all the prospects you had once your father had died. But still, I grew to like you and your spirit - as unbecoming as it was in a woman. I should have known that my first estimations of you were correct.”

“And I should have pushed to have you retired to some farm village years ago,” Morgana seethed, magic bubbling under her skin. “Everyone knew you weren’t fit for purpose for this past half decade. Uther himself contemplated hiring an apprentice with a view to relieving you of your duties.” She paused to savour Gaius’ shocked expression. “Did not know that, did you? That your precious King thinks so little of your abilities. Did you not wonder why he was so very keen to have Amina settle here once he contemplated the idea of you being charged with the health of his heirs?”

“Lies, all of it lies,” Gaius exclaimed. “Everyone knows that whores lie and you have proven yourself to be quite the whore. If Uther had any reason to keep Amina here it was for the novelty of bedding her.”

Exhaling sharply, Morgana brushed past him and opened the door, turning back to look at him one last time before she left. “You will rue the day that you threatened my children, Gaius. I can promise you that.”

~*~

More tears were shed in the five minutes that Gwen and Morgana spent saying goodbye than either woman had shed before in their lifetimes.

“I won’t leave you,” Gwen insisted, her cheeks blotchy and covered in tears. “I can’t. Before Elyan came back, you were all that I had in this city - in my whole world. You were there when my father died. You were the one who held my hand at his funeral. It was you who first made me smile afterwards and you who were the light in those dark, dark nights when I could not face going home. You never let me go through anything alone and I won’t let you face this without me.”

“Oh Gwen,” Morgana sobbed. “Dear sweet Gwen. If I could keep you with me then I would without hesitation, but it is a risk I cannot take. I could not bear it if anything happened to you. If you were here then I could not stop worrying about you. And Gwen, I have enough things to worry about as it is. I cannot afford to add you to that list when you need not be there.”

“I promise that she will not be alone,” Morgause said, not wanting to intrude but knowing that Gwen needed to hear it. She was sat at the table, holding Finnian and Isolde’s hands as they waited bewildered to find out why their mother and Gwen were crying. “And I promise that you will be the first to know if the Gods give us our reprieve.”

“And if they should not,” Morgana sobbed, clutching Gwen’s hands to her chest, “then the Wildes have promised to come to you and bring the children. I want them to be Wildes, but I want you there too.” Hot salty tears streaked down her cheeks. “Gods forbid, if… if that happens, then you will be the closest thing they will have left in this world to a mother. And I know you will raise them to be good and kind and everything that I want them to be.”

“I promise,” Gwen swore, sniffing back her tears. “And I promise that I will pray every moment of every day - to my God and to all of yours - that I will be back with you again soon and that Gaius will not see his wicked wish come true.”

“Gwen,” Elyan prompted. “It’s time to go.”

Gwen nodded and Morgana darted in to kiss her cheek and pull her close. “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

Gwen pulled back, taking one last look at Morgana before turning her goodbyes to the children. She crouched down before them and Morgause dropped their hands, letting them fall into Gwen’s outstretched arms.

“You be good now,” Gwen whispered to them. “I will see you both soon but I have to go away for a while.” She held them out at arm’s length, memorising their tiny worried features.

“Avuh?” Isolde questioned, whatever meaning she meant to convey lost in her babe’s speech. But the feeling behind the words was enough to send Gwen’s tears tumbling afresh.

Tipping up their chins, Gwen kissed both of their chubby cheeks and their damp foreheads, stood up and left them wailing for her, their mother crumpled on the floor doing the same.

PART 2