Truth and Legend (4/6)
This has been a long time coming. It ended up much longer than intended, and took many an edit to get to even this state. And I'm still not quite satisfied. but that's what you get for writing 44k! Anyway, I'd like you to meet Elaine. She's important.
Title: Truth and Legend
Author:
weepingwillow9
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin, or this is what would happen
Characters: Arthur, Merlin, Lance, Gwaine, Gwen, Morgana, Elaine (OC), Linet (OC), Gareth (OC), Galahad (OC), Mordred, Gaius
Pairings: Arthur/Merlin/Lance/Gwaine, Morgana/Elaine, Lance/Elaine
Warnings: Sex, battles, attempted suicide, character death
Spoilers: This starts off sometime after Arthur's Coronation (Series Four Episode Three) but minus the events of Series Four Episodes One and Two - so Lancelot is still around. I like to think that the Cailleach became the sacrifice, anyway...
Rating: NC-17
Length: 44198
Summary: When the Lady Elaine arrives at Camelot, she sets off a chain of events that will change the Kingdom forever
Part Three
It took two more days of training for Elaine to realise that she couldn’t fight Morgana away when she wasn’t actually there. She had to see Morgana, to end whatever fledgling feelings were between them before they had time to properly gestate.
Linet was used to Elaine’s strange ways, so Elaine knew she wouldn’t ask awkward questions if asked to leave her in the forest for a few hours. They rode out in the early hours of the morning, leaving Galahad in Gwaine’s capable hands.
When she was sure Linet was a safe distance away, Elaine dismounted, taking the reins of her horse in her hand. She hoped they’d found the meeting place again, but Linet had said it was hard to tell. It certainly felt right; foreboding and oppressive.
She took a deep breath, filled her lungs with stinging fresh air.
“Morgana!”
And then she waited.
There was a slight rustling, but she couldn’t be sure if it was the wind or footsteps. It was disconcerting to say the least. Elaine wanted to rip off the blindfold, but she knew she couldn’t. It would ruin her hearing to have her sight again.
“Elaine?”
She spun towards the source of the sound.
“Do you take a sadistic pleasure in tormenting me?”
“What?”
“Oh, you didn’t foresee me coming?”
She bit the words out, and Morgana reeled back.
“I don’t understand what I’ve done.”
“I can’t see you. I can’t hear you.”
Morgana reached a hand out, tried to soothe over Elaine’s arm, but Elaine jumped back.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think, I’ll be more obvious in future.”
Elaine snorted with laughter.
“That’s what I came to say - there is no future.”
“Elaine? You’re confusing me again.”
“I can’t do it. I can’t give up everything I’ve worked for just for a chance at whatever it is I want with you. It’s not going to work!” Her voice started breaking up, and Morgana knew she was on the verge of tears. She couldn’t bear it. And she couldn’t understand. As far as she could tell, they’d only shared one true kiss. Morgana thought she had a lot more to do before Elaine would even consider more.
“Hey, Elaine, tell me what’s wrong.”
And because Elaine was clearly self-destructive, she let herself open up.
“I can’t get rid of thoughts of you. You’re everywhere and I just want you to kiss me again, but it would ruin everything! Don’t you see?”
“I can’t stop dreaming about you,” Morgana breathed, calm next to Elaine’s frantic misery.
“We’re on different sides. Arthur’s a good King, a really good King, and he’s what’s right for me. But most of all, my son. He’s good for Galahad, and I can’t give that up for someone I barely know. I have to go.”
Elaine turned, though she didn’t know where any of the trees were, couldn’t see her footing. She took two steps before Morgana’s hand closed around her wrist.
“Wait.”
Elaine twisted her arm, but Morgana kept a tight hold, two-handed now.
“No! You’re not going, not when I’ve only just found you!”
Then she pulled, hard and sharp, on Elaine’s arm. She staggered forward, into Morgana, who wrapped one arm around her and used her other hand to tilt Elaine’s head towards her own, and leant in to kiss her. Elaine struggled, then softened.
“I’d look after you, and Galahad. Together we’d do great things, Elaine. I’d be on the throne, and you’d be always beside me.”
Elaine shook her head.
“No, Morgana, it doesn’t work like that. I honestly believe that Arthur is right as King and I’m sorry. I can’t help you take something that isn’t yours.”
Morgana had to process Elaine’s words. Though she could guess from her visions that the person she was destined to be with was on the other side of the fight, she had hoped that Elaine could be persuaded to join her. The realisation that it could never happen hurt, a heavy punch to the gut, a knife cutting out a portion of Morgana’s heart. Elaine died in the visions for Arthur, not for her, and would always do so. Yet another reason to hate him, though she knew that she couldn’t blame him for Elaine’s choice.
That choice was that Arthur belonged on the throne. The thought that the woman she was already beginning to love disputed her claim to Camelot sliced cold between Morgana’s ribs.
“I have every right!” Morgana drew back, and Elaine could practically feel her shutting herself in. It was Elaine’s turn to soothe now, stepping back into Morgana’s space and melting against her.
“I won’t have this argument with you.” Elaine sighed, wanting so much that she knew she couldn’t have, aching for it. So much so, that she had to give in, just a little. Or else she would go mad with the torment. “If you come, I won’t object. I can’t go to you. Blindfold.” She pointed to it, and smiled, sweetly.
“I’ll find you.” Morgana promised, leaning in to kiss her again. The touch of her skin against Elaine’s was so unlike the Morgana that Elaine had heard of, bitter and cruel and ruthless, that she could barely recognise her. Maybe she wasn’t the real Morgana, after all. That would be nice, if it were true.
Unfortunately, though, it was only a daydream. Morgana was by all rights out of limits, and Elaine shouldn’t even have been entertaining the idea of seeing her again. But entertain it she did, and more than that. She kissed Morgana like there were more to come, each press of their lips a promise.
And then she pushed Morgana away, but just gently, fingers clenched in the lace of her dress.
“You need to go, now. Linet will be back soon, to take me to Camelot.”
Morgana ran a finger down Elaine’s face, ghosting over her lips, and then pulled apart from her.
“I’ll find a way to you,” she promised. Elaine listened as she walked away, the trailing of her dress and soft pad of her feet getting steadily quieter. Then she leant against the side of the horse, and waited.
“Did that help?” Linet asked, as they left the forest.
“I’m not sure.”
oOo
Elaine rushed back to her rooms, where she knew Galahad would still be with Gwaine. She trusted him. She really did. It was just that it was the first time leaving Galahad with him, and she wanted to make sure.
She opened the door to sounds of giggling, and a deeper, quieter laughter. Safe, then.
“Look, Galahad, it’s your Mum! You going to say hello?”
Gwaine laughed again.
“He’s waving, Elaine.”
“Is he? Oh, good boy, Galahad! Well done!”
She rushed over, Gwaine handing her baby to her for a cuddle.
“Feeling any better?”
“I hope so,” Elaine said, and that wasn’t entirely reassuring, but Gwaine supposed it was as good as he was going to get.
“Listen, Elaine, I’ve been thinking. Lance would love this.”
Elaine’s face fell; she knew exactly what was coming. And really, really didn’t want to have something else to think about and confuse her.
“What?” she asked, sweetly, hoping that feigning innocence would throw him. It didn’t.
“Playing with his son. Being a father.”
Elaine nodded, but didn’t say anything. Gwaine watched her. She was tense, but he had to carry on. Or there’d be no hope for Lance - he couldn’t defend himself if he didn’t know something was being hidden from him. And he deserved this happiness.
“You can’t deny him this, Elaine. He doesn’t know. I know you love Galahad with all your heart, what makes you think Lance won’t?”
“You don’t understand.” Elaine was trying to keep calm. But every time she opened her mouth, she sounded more and more terse than she intended. “I can’t scare him off, for Galahad as much as for me. And I don’t want him marrying me or something out of some twisted sense of duty. It’d only make things worse in the future, and all three of us miserable.”
“Why not consider someone else then, Elaine? If you don’t think it’s going to work. It’s just cruel to Lance to keep Galahad from him. If you at least told him, then he could choose. But he doesn’t know he’s missing anything.”
Elaine took a few deep breaths, sat down, and started bouncing Galahad on her knee.
“I know. Just, give me time. I need to try one last time. And I’ve got some things to think through. It’s a big step for me, too.”
She sounded so resigned that Gwaine didn’t know what to do. Except to loop an arm around her, and squeeze. It must be difficult, he thought, going from the sole parent to having help. Unconventially, too. It was natural that she’d find it difficult, become a little possessive.
When he left, Elaine had only her thoughts. The truth was, she didn’t know what to do with Lance any more. She hadn’t really thought of him in the past few days - Morgana had taken over everything. Morgana was the one she wanted, not Lance, sensible though it would be to marry him. She just couldn’t see it any more. And she supposed he should know. Elaine just needed some time, to get her thoughts straight. Try one last time to rid Morgana from them, go back to before.
If she couldn’t, Lance would make a great father, married to her or not. He’d train Galahad up as a knight, wouldn’t allow him to be treated differently because he was illegitimate. He’d live well, which only made it harder. Because now the decision of what to do was down to what Elaine wanted alone. And she didn’t know.
oOo
Merlin slipped into Arthur’s rooms late at night, creeping over the stone floor though rationally he knew there were no floorboards to creak and his soles were too soft to make a footfall. He didn’t want to wake Arthur. He just needed to be near him.
Merlin had been seeing Lance for so long now that he was a constant in his life. There was no doubting Lance. No worrying that he’d be lost, well, no more than he would for any other lover who happened to be a knight of Camelot. Gwaine was so easy going that Merlin knew he’d always be around. And he suspected that Gwaine wasn’t sleeping around since they’d started seeing each other, though he wasn’t thinking too much about that because it was incredibly awkward, and meant things that were difficult to think about, like love and devotion and Merlin’s guilt. It wasn’t like he could just solve everything by ending it with one of them - the thought of it made him curl up and wilt and rot inside. Gwaine and Lance were there to stay.
Arthur, however, was new. Arthur might come to his senses about this at any time, decide that it was not proper for a King to be sleeping with his manservant, let alone being romantic and picking him flowers. Though it had only been that once, and Merlin wasn’t sure if it would ever be repeated. He doubted Arthur knew either.
Merlin needed to make the most of Arthur, while he still had him. The plan was to breathe him in, memorise how he smelt, the rich mix of sweat, grass, muscle oils, and that something that Merlin could never quite place, that he could taste even stronger from Arthur’s mouth. He loved it, couldn’t get enough of it, would never be able to do without it again. He’d woken in the middle of the night needing it, unable to get back to sleep, and now he stripped off his clothing only to realise he had nothing to change into. He borrowed one of Arthur’s night shirts; it was soft, and it smelt of the softer soap the laundry used, a scent mingled with Arthur’s so often that it was almost synonymous.
He took a while to settle into the fabric, smelling the almost-Arthur every time he moved even slightly. Then he gathered the courage, pulled back the covers of the bed, and slid in. The warmth from Arthur’s body heated his immediately, and it felt like home. He wriggled a little closer, tensing when Arthur moaned and tossed.
Arthur turned, an arm thrown across Merlin. It hooked onto his waist, tugged. Merlin went, desperate not to wake Arthur, ending up with his face pressed into Arthur’s shoulder, legs tangled with Arthur’s, hands resting on his arms. Arthur moaned again, and it sounded suspiciously like Merlin.
His nose was in exactly the right position, so he breathed through it, and the wave of scent was perfect. A few more breaths, and he was asleep.
Dreams of men with alternating faces, smiling, frowning, kissing him.
Dream kisses melted into a real pressure, and Merlin’s eyes fluttered open, eyelashes brushing against skin. He looked up, and of course it was Arthur, stealing soft kisses in the dawn light, quiet.
“Oh, you’re awake. I didn’t want to-”
Merlin laughed, chasing after Arthur’s mouth sleepily, with a complete lack of coordination.
“I wanted you to.”
Arthur smiled.
“When I saw you there… you’re so beautiful. In my shirt, Merlin, I’m sure I’ve explained yours and mine by now.”
“The whole attraction is that it’s yours, Arthur.”
Arthur’s smile changed, and for a moment Merlin’s heart quickened out of fear. When he recognised the wide dark eyed lust on Arthur’s face, his heart skipped another beat, and he leant in. Only to be stopped by Arthur’s hand on his chest.
“Well, in that case…”
He pushed Merlin back down to the bed, kneeling over him, nose to nose, weight on his forearms.
“How would you like to be mine, too, Merlin?”
“Only if you’ll be mine.”
Merlin bit his lip. He wasn’t supposed to say that sort of thing, not if he wanted to keep Arthur for any length of time. Arthur liked being in control. Merlin understood that.
But Arthur only smiled, and kissed him.
“I thought you understood. Obviously I underestimated how much of an imbecile you are. I’m already yours.”
Merlin could allow the insult, because clearly to Arthur that meant I love you. Or something akin to that. Something Arthur couldn’t put into real, meaningful words yet. He wrapped his arms around Arthur, until Arthur got impatient, tugging at the night shirt. He stripped himself, then Merlin. Before he could get back to kissing Merlin, he rolled away.
“Let’s try something new today.”
“New?”
“It’s good, I promise.”
Merlin ran across the room, far too cold compared to the bed, grabbed one of Arthur’s bottles of oil. He left it in his reach, then went back to bed, and Arthur.
“Now you can kiss me again.”
Arthur did, all tongues and morning breath and warmth, flaring up into sharp heat until it was nearly unbearable. Then Merlin’s hand shot out for the oil, coated his fingers in the stuff. Arthur gasped when the fingers pressed to his arse.
“Trust me, alright? It’s easier for me to show you than tell you what to do, or we’d do it the other way.”
Arthur nodded, and Merlin slicked them both up, then guided Arthur over him to sink down on him, giving him the power over them both. He fought to keep his eyes open, cataloguing every single expression that crossed Arthur’s face, from surprise and doubt, back to surprise again, and then the most mesmerising thing Merlin had ever seen. Arthur’s pupils blown wide, mouth slightly open, nostrils flaring as he breathed hard.
“How- how is it?” Merlin managed to stammer out, regulating his breathing through force of will alone.
“Good, but I need to- fuck- can I?”
Merlin didn’t really know what he was agreeing to, not being a mind reader, but he nodded anyway, sure whatever it was, it’d be right.
Arthur’s thighs tensed, Merlin could feel it, so he at least had that warning before Arthur moved, changing the angle slightly as he shifted upwards. Merlin thrust up to meet them, until they formed their own rhythm.
And then it wasn’t enough, and Arthur rolled onto his back, pulling Merlin with him. Merlin reached down between them, and it took barely a touch before Arthur was coming, gasping in surprise. Merlin was laughing, and coming too, and he wrapped himself up in Arthur, safe and comfortable and never ever wanting to move again.
They had to, of course, not long afterwards. It was almost more effort than Arthur could find to get out of bed and drag Merlin up with him to get clean. But then he remembered that he was the King of Camelot, not just some lovesick fool. It was blatantly obvious that he was that, too, of course. Of course, he’d barely even admit it to himself.
oOo
Elaine didn’t have long to wait for Morgana.
She was washing when it happened. The blindfold was off, a rare moment of weakness, Linet lingering behind her with a fresh one to put on as soon as Elaine had dried her face. Elaine got on with the cleaning as fast as possible, splashing water over her squeezed shut eyelids. And then there was a voice.
Elaine? Don’t react, you alone can hear me.
Despite Morgana’s words, she felt herself stiffen, breathed slowly and deliberately to soften her muscles again. Elaine reached for the towel, slowly, prolonging their moment alone.
You need to… think to me. Are you alone? Can you talk?
Alone enough, if you’re quick.
Elaine took her time with the drying, but she knew it would be over soon. She directed her attention to her eyes and the area around them; it wouldn’t do for the skin to get chapped because she’d dried it badly. Then the blindfold would chafe.
I’ve found a way to see you, but you need to be alone. Can you empty your chambers?
There was a rush of emotion at your, a longing, or perhaps a jealousy, but the thoughts were too fleeting for Elaine to tell, and she tried to ignore them. If it became important, she would ask Morgana. It was certainly trivial then.
Give me a few minutes. Linet needs to dress me.
She knew she sent embarrassment then, but again, it didn’t matter. Why would it? Morgana barely knew her, it was understandable. Morgana recognised the feeling, and a hint of bitterness. Elaine hated the fact that she had to be dressed.
I’ll see you.
And then she was gone, and Elaine turned to Linet.
“The blindfold, please.”
“Are you alright, Elaine? You’ve been quiet.”
“I’ve got a lot to think about.” She smiled then, wry and harsh, and Linet didn’t really know how to respond. Just tied the knot at the back of her head, and manoeuvred her into the dress for the day.
“Dark blue today, my Lady. It suits you.”
Elaine was glad of that, with Morgana coming.
“Thank you. Actually, I can cope from here. I need some time to think.”
Linet knew well what that meant, and left.
Elaine busied herself strapping her sword around her waist, just in case. Then she took Galahad from his cradle, clean from Linet’s washing, and passed the few remaining minutes sitting on the floor with him, playing with his wooden horses.
There was laughter, soft and gentle and new to Elaine’s ears, and Galahad twisted in her grip and waved.
“Good boy,” she murmured, through force of habit rather than anything else.
“Hello, Elaine.”
Elaine stood, taking Galahad with her. Morgana’s eyes darted to the sword at Elaine’s hip.
“Don’t trust me, I see.”
“You can never be too careful. And I have a son to protect. I’m sorry.”
Morgana moved to take a seat at the table; Elaine heard her go and followed a little behind, Galahad held against her hip.
“I understand. I’d do the same, and I like it about you.” She paused for a long time there, though Elaine could feel that she wasn’t finished. She waited, running her fingertips along the edge of the table. They were both awkward. Elaine wished she could look to see if Morgana was blushing.
As if she’d heard Elaine’s thoughts - which she seriously wouldn’t put past Morgana but doubted was really happening purely from the fact that Morgana wasn’t kissing her yet - Morgana spoke.
“I wish you could look at me. I want to see your eyes. But I don’t want you hurt.”
Elaine nodded, and reached out her free arm for Morgana. She took Elaine’s hand between two of her own, caressing the palm slowly.
“Would you trust me? If I asked you to?”
Elaine bit her lip. A difficult question.
“Depends on what you wanted me to trust you with.”
Morgana hummed, a sound a little too high in pitch to be truly relaxed.
“If I asked you to put Galahad down and come to me, would you?”
Elaine smiled, slowly, a slight twitch that turned into something so much more.
“Alright.”
She rose, taking Galahad back to his cot, making sure he had things to play with behind the bars with him. Morgana watched her go, then turned her attention to the room.
“This has changed since I was last here.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t remind you of things lost.”
“It hasn’t changed enough…” Morgana admitted, “But I’m here to see you, so don’t apologise to me.”
Elaine stood right in front of Morgana, who encircled her waist, pulling her in close, down into her lap. Confident, she stole a kiss straight from Elaine’s lips.
“In the woods, I’m so alone. I used to have Agravaine, but now there’s nothing. And even he was a poor companion. I’m glad I’ve met you.”
Elaine sighed, and leaned back into Morgana.
“You know, you don’t have to stay there. You could come back.”
“Arthur would never take me.”
“He misses you. He’d find a way.”
Elaine tried to kiss Morgana, but she pulled away, held Elaine’s face between her palms.
“No, Elaine. You don’t understand. I can’t watch him on the throne. It’s mine.”
“No, it’s not!”
“It is! I’d bring magic, bring knowledge, back to the Kingdom. We could find someone to break your curse!”
Morgana was too defensive, she knew that as soon as the words were out of her mouth. And Elaine saw straight through them.
“If this was about the magic, Morgana, you’d give Arthur the benefit of the doubt. You’d go to him, talk to him, give him time to change the laws before you tried to take his throne from under him.” She shook her head, sadly. “I wish it was about the magic. Then you’d come back, and things would be so much easier. You know what I think, though? I think it’s all about you.”
Morgana’s grip on Elaine tightened. It was too close to home. But she wouldn’t talk about it, not with someone she had only just really met. She never talked about Uther. It all hurt too much. She let go and leant back.
“Come now,” Elaine soothed, “Let’s not talk about this. We have more important things.”
And Morgana allowed it, allowed Elaine’s apparent calm to slide over her. She shifted, until Elaine was forced to lean right into her, and pressed her lips to Elaine’s. Chaste at first, until she pulled Elaine closer by her waist so they touched from lips to where Elaine’s hip butted against Morgana’s stomach. Elaine inhaled sharply, through her mouth, and Morgana chased her lips hungrily, pulling her back with a tongue to the back of her teeth. Elaine moaned, and Morgana pulled her yet closer, careful not to crush, but to have a pressure between them that was nowhere near enough.
Morgana had known for some time that it was girls she was interested in. From her teens she had been beautiful, and when she came of age she received more male attention than she had ever bargained for, but never more than she enjoyed. She was under the protection of the King, so she could use the men’s drooling to get whatever she wanted. Unfortunately for her, what she wanted wasn’t them. It was her sweet, kind maidservant. Who, it turned out, wanted just about anyone but her.
Gwen only thought to enlighten her about this after Morgana had kissed her. Gwen had said she’d wondered what it would be like. It seemed cruel to Morgana, to promise so much just for an experiment. Something cold, like Gaius did with herbs and water in his chambers. Though Morgana knew Gwen hadn’t intended it like that, had thought that was all Morgana wanted, she couldn’t think of the girl the same way again. She had no real reason to think of Gwen while she kissed Elaine, so much braver, stronger. But think of her she did; if only to recognise that Gwen was in the past and this was what was important now. Elaine, her lips, and using what Morgana had learnt in her few kisses to make her happy.
For Elaine, though, the feel of another woman against her was new territory. She had wondered, after catching a couple of the knights errant competing in her father’s tournament together. If two men could love each other, could two women? Perhaps, but it was never an option for her. Her father needed an heir. But with Morgana in front of her, kissing her, she forgot her father. He had pushed her and Lancelot together, done nothing to stop them, even though there was no way knowing whether his intentions towards her were honourable. He’d known everything. And then he’d made her life a living hell, chased Elaine away. She owed him nothing. But she owed herself everything. There had been too much sacrifice, and this was all she wanted, all she deserved. Morgana, softer than anyone she’d kissed before, and yet somehow sharper too. Fearless, determined, everything Elaine wanted.
She let her tongue move in Morgana’s mouth like it used to in Lance’s. Morgana’s stifled answering sound was encouragement enough; she clutched at Morgana’s shoulder with one hand, letting the other run through her hair.
Morgana pulled back, head leaning back over the top of the chair, and Elaine just had to know what that neck felt like under her lips. Apparently that was good too.
“Fuck, Elaine- chair’s too small-”
Elaine understood perfectly where this was going. She got up eagerly, then her attention jumped to Galahad.
“Let’s not give him a show.”
“No.”
Morgana stood, took Elaine’s hand, and smiled.
“We’ll draw the curtains around the bed, and I’ll put a spell around us so he can’t hear us but we can hear him. How does that sound?”
“Perfect.”
Morgana led her to the bed, whispering words in a language that resonated with Elaine, but she couldn’t decipher. Nothing appeared to change.
“Galahad?” There was no answering sound, no alteration in the sounds of his play. So he couldn’t hear then. She turned, planted a kiss on Morgana’s cheek.
“Thank you. For not running away when you saw the baby.”
Morgana laughed.
“You forget, I’ve seen some of your futures. I knew I could never have you without Galahad.”
Elaine smiled, sat down on the bed and pulled Morgana to her.
“Tell me my future.”
Morgana stilled.
“Not a good idea, Elaine. Knowing your own future hardly ever turns out well. You’ll either reach it in trying not to or not reach it in trying to. It’s better if I don’t tell you.”
Elaine nodded. She was determined for nothing to spoil this, so she lay down, dragging Morgana with her, and kissed her.
Neither of them would have moved so quickly ordinarily. But neither of them could quite escape the idea that this might be it, all they ever had, all it would ever be. Morgana waved a hand and the curtains shut, and then she moved it up to sit on Elaine’s breast, over the fabric.
This was familiar, and Elaine let herself relax as Morgana’s hands moved over her, responding in kind. Though she could feel every swell of Morgana’s body - that she couldn’t quite get used to. It was a good different, but strange all the same. Morgana was comfortable, warm against her.
When Morgana reached behind Elaine for the buttons of her dress, Elaine didn’t refuse. And still, the threatening feeling that it would all be over too soon. They had to make it as much as they could, because they could be found at any moment, or either of them could change their mind, or one of them could die at the hands of the other. So Elaine slid out of her dress, helped Morgana to extricate herself from dirty black lace.
It was clumsy. Neither of them really knew what they were doing. And then, something slid, clicked into place. Elaine stopped waiting for a hardening that was never going to happen. Morgana stopped seeing Elaine as a mirror image of herself. They found the places that made each other gasp when they were touched, and the deeper places that made them moan. When Elaine threw her head back, Morgana’s name resonating low in her throat, Morgana thought it was the most wonderful sound she’d ever heard.
And then Elaine reached for her again, using the lines of her body as a guide, biting her lip in concentration. Morgana didn’t think much else after that.
Afterwards, it was just a bit too familiar for Elaine to handle. Morgana curled up next to her, head on her shoulder, Elaine’s arm held tight to her chest. Their fingers were interlaced, and Morgana stirred slightly, nuzzling into Elaine’s skin. She pressed a kiss to Elaine’s forearm, and that was it. The last person to do anything like that to Elaine had been Lance. And just look where that had ended.
“Well, I can’t stay here all day. If I don’t make an appearance, people will think I’ve fallen ill.”
Morgana sat up abruptly, letting go of Elaine, and she missed the touch immediately.
“Right.” Morgana couldn’t hide the disappointment; she wanted nothing more than to forget the world and just be held. But the world had a knack of intruding.
Elaine heard, and her hands sought out Morgana’s face to place it in the space surrounding her, leaning forwards to kiss her.
“Will you come back soon?”
“Tonight. I promise.”
oOo
When Elaine reached the knights, her lips were still kiss swollen. She could feel them, tender, and she hoped it wasn’t too obvious. She’d rubbed her nose red and made a show of sneezing periodically, so maybe that would be disguise enough.
Arthur partnered her with Leon for practice. She was beaten, quite spectacularly. Then again, her mind wasn’t really on the training session; it was trapped up in her chambers, or perhaps wherever Morgana was.
“Not up to your usual standards, I see,” Leon teased, once they’d reached the armoury. Elaine took the opportunity to sneeze.
“No. I’ve got this awful cold.”
“Oh, poor you! Come on, let’s have a look at you.” Leon took hold of her chin, tilted it up until he could look into her face properly.
“You’re still beautiful as ever.”
Elaine could just feel Arthur winking at them. He shouldn’t encourage Leon, he knew how Elaine felt on the subject. She could only hope this was a casual flirtation - she didn’t want to break this lovely man’s heart.
“Leon, don’t lie, I know I must be disgusting. Especially after that beating you gave me.”
“Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself, you’ve got a cold.”
“What if someone attacked me when I had a cold?”
Leon shut up at that, but after a while he squeezed her shoulder.
“Get some extra practice in then, while you still have a fuzzy head.”
She laughed, and shooed him away.
“You’ve got important places to be, go be useful.”
All Elaine really craved was some time alone. Arthur had other ideas.
“You alright, Elaine?”
“Just a bit ill, that’s all.” Yes. Sick in the head, if she thought she could get away with sleeping with Morgana.
Elaine leaned over to put down her sword. She couldn’t miss Arthur’s gasp.
“What is it?”
Arthur was too busy gaping to answer.
As Elaine had leant over, her dress had fallen open at the neckline. Not much, but enough to reveal a large, darkening love bite, just over her left breast.
“So the real reason you don’t want Leon is because you’re seeing someone else.”
Elaine panicked. How much did he know? How? How would he punish her now he knew? She drew her arms around herself, as if it would help in hiding evidence.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, don’t lie to me Elaine, I’ve seen the love bite. Out with it! Who is it?” Arthur’s tone was so teasing that Elaine relaxed, just a little.
She hadn’t even noticed the bruise. Elaine made a mental note to warn Morgana against such obvious marks.
“I- I can’t tell you.”
“Why not?” Arthur’s voice turned suspicious, and Elaine took a step backwards.
“Because it’s too early to know if anything will come of it,” Elaine lied, hoping it would ring true in Arthur’s ears. She didn’t have anything to fear.
“Alright. But I will find out, Elaine. If it takes me the world.”
He slapped her on the back, friendly and teasing. All Elaine could do was stand and grimace and shiver.
oOo
Merlin had a bit of a conundrum. While it was absolutely wonderful being with Arthur, it was also absolutely wonderful being with Lance, and being with Gwaine. He didn’t want to choose. In fact he refused to, point blank.
Something told him that he couldn’t keep them compartmentalised now, though. Arthur wasn’t really one for secrets. Yes, he could keep something like rescuing a young druid boy quiet, but he didn’t see said young druid boy every day in very public places and decide that the best thing to do would be to stop what he was doing and grin inanely at him. There had been a hand around Merlin’s waist just outside the armoury, too. And while it was nice, he could just imagine what would have happened had Lance or Gwaine or even both been around.
So that left Merlin with one option. He was going to have to tell them. They wouldn’t like it. It was going to be completely fucking impossible. But it would be so much better than this secrecy.
He loved them. All three of them. Wonderful timing on love’s part.
Merlin refused himself the mental images of what might happen if they accepted his decision, because it seemed so unlikely. Though, they did seem to creep up on him with alarming regularity. The thought of Lance and Arthur, or Gwaine and Lance, or Arthur and Gwaine was just so hot that he could only hope his mind would betray him when he was alone somewhere, or where someone wouldn’t notice if his face suddenly went slack, rather than midway through his duties.
And there he was, allowing the thoughts to seep through again. He had more important things to be thinking about, had to keep his mind on track.
How the hell was he going to tell them, and get them to go along with it?
oOo
Elaine hadn’t really intended it to happen. But Gwaine had been insistent, begged even. He really needed a favour, and Elaine was going in that general direction. Could she possibly drop his sword off in his chambers? In between being so pleased that Gwaine had thought her capable of navigating the castle on her own to find his room and being a good friend, she saw no real reason to refuse.
But once she got there. Well. Gwaine’s room was the one before Lance’s. And before she knew it, she was knocking on his door.
It was going to happen sometime. It may as well happen sooner rather than later. Elaine knew she’d ruled out marrying Lance, now that she knew just how far she was willing to go with, and for, Morgana. She’d wanted Lance to love her, and to marry her, but now she barely thought about Lance like that. Maybe it wasn’t love - maybe it hadn’t been all along. And while she deliberated about what she felt for him, she was only putting off telling him about Galahad, which was unfair.
“Who is it?” he called, and Elaine forced herself to clear her throat.
“It’s Elaine.”
“Oh, hey! I’ll just get the door for you…”
The sound of scuffling, and then the door was opening.
“Come in, Elaine.”
“I’d rather not, if it’s alright, Lance. I’ve got something to show you.”
“Oh?”
“It’s a surprise.”
She didn’t sound very enthusiastic. More determined, in a grim, teeth gritted sort of way. Lance followed her, a little reluctant. But at least like this, he was pretty sure the surprise wasn’t something along the lines of her taking off all her clothes when they were alone together.
As they got closer, though, Elaine’s smile grew. Lance was intrigued.
“Alright. You should probably close your eyes, and sit down, while I explain.”
She felt with her fingers, soft over Lance’s face, to make sure he wasn’t looking, then took his wrist, opened the door. It felt a bit precarious to him, the blind leading the blind, but he knew he could trust Elaine. She didn’t just need her sight.
She asked Linet to leave, then led Lance to a wooden chair, made him sit down in it, and started to walk away. Elaine turned her face away from him. No matter which way she turned, she couldn’t see Lance when she spoke, but old habits die hard and she didn’t want him to see her when she spoke of this. She’d forgiven him. She didn’t want to flaunt the hurt, still fresh as the day he’d left. And she didn’t want him to hear it in her voice.
“The night you left, I had something important to tell you. I waited, but you never turned up.” She took a deep, shaky breath. It was enough for Lance to think she wasn’t going to continue.
“What did you want to tell me?”
Elaine reached Galahad, thankful he was being quiet for his father. He would usually have gurgled at least once by now. She picked him up, took another breath, using the feel of her son against her as her bravery.
“I was pregnant. Sir Lancelot, you have a son.”
“I- what?” he spluttered, and Elaine turned, smiling, back to him. His eyes had opened unconsciously when she spoke, and he took in her soft, warm look. But only briefly, before his eyes latched onto the tiny bundle of limbs and cloths. His skin was a little darker than Elaine’s, like Lance’s own, and his curls were a slightly lighter version of his father’s.
Lance gaped.
“Take him, he’s yours as much as he is mine.” Elaine passed a sleepy Galahad over to him, crouching to arrange Lance’s hands around him.
Lance felt the weight, knew from that and the obvious timings that this was not a newborn child. He started to tick off months.
“He must be, what, a year old now?”
“Nearly. Eleven months.”
“Oh.” Lance took a moment to absorb everything. There was no denying that the child in his arms was his own. It was just a bit too much, all in one go, and unprepared.
Galahad reached out, curious, and took a surprisingly secure hold of Lance’s nose.
“What’s his name?”
“Galahad.”
“Hello, Galahad.”
Galahad waved. Lance laughed, and cuddled his son.
“So, when you wanted me to marry you, was that for you or…?”
“I won’t deny I wanted the help with Galahad. I still do. But maybe we can do it in some other way. I know now that we wouldn’t work out. We don’t love each other, do we? Not as we should. We’d both be miserable. Stupidly, that was my reason for coming here. And I didn’t want you to know about Galahad, because I didn’t want you to go all chivalrous on me and marry me out of honour. I didn’t want your charity. I still don’t.”
Lance didn’t interrupt, too preoccupied with combing through Galahad’s hair and playing with his tiny fingers.
“So you did all of this, the blindfold, everything, for Galahad?”
“Yes. I love him so much. And I know you will too.”
Lance smiled, kissed his son’s forehead for the first time.
“I’m sure I will.”
oOo
Merlin had his decision. He even knew who he was going to tell first - Lance, because he was the least likely to make a scene. Merlin could work out what sounded right with him.
But when he reached Lance’s rooms, he wasn’t there. He’d have suspected the training grounds, but he’d just been there, and no Lance. Not the armoury, either, because he’d been through there, and he knew Lance wasn’t on patrol.
When he finally reached Elaine’s chambers, because surely she’d know where Lance was, he stopped dead in the doorway.
Lance had his arms out for Galahad. Who was walking. All of two steps, granted, but Galahad was walking! Arms in the air, clutching an imaginary mother’s hands.
“Elaine,” he laughed, “He’s doing it! Oh, you beautiful boy!”
And then Lance gathered Galahad close to him, and Merlin wanted to melt. Not that he wanted anything to do with Galahad himself. He hadn’t the first idea of what to do with a baby, and really didn’t want to know. It was more that the tenderness on Lance’s face, clear in every movement he made, was utterly and completely beautiful.
Lance turned, leaving Merlin a little flushed, leaning against the doorframe, waving.
“Hi,”
“Merlin!” Lance grinned, “You’ve probably met my son.”
Galahad giggled, and Lance took that as assent, tickling him in return.
“Hi, Merlin,” Elaine laughed, from her position seated on the bed.
“You told him!”
“Yeah, I did. It was going to happen sometime, you know…”
If Merlin had any lingering doubts about telling them all what he felt, they disappeared at those words. He’d have to tell them at some point anyway. Sooner rather than later was best, before they got too settled and he screwed everything up. Cracks would form if he tried to changed things after they had firmed in place.
But not now. Now, Lance was happy.
“Hey, Lance, I need a word. Later; I’ll come see you in the morning, alright?”
oOo
It was still quite early when Merlin went to see Lance. He had to catch him before he went out on patrol, and that meant before he went to see to Arthur. He had to shake Lance awake.
Lance just pulled him down for a kiss and promptly rolled over.
“What time is it?”
“Time we had a talk.”
“Can it wait?”
“No, Lance, it’s very, very important. It’s about us.”
Lance sounded much more awake after that.
“What is it, Merlin? You’re not- Are you?”
Merlin laughed a little, nervously, sitting next to him on the narrow bed. Lance pulled him close, screwing his eyes tight against the harsh morning sunlight.
“Of course I’m not, Lance. I love you. But-”
Lance sucked in air through his mouth, and Merlin placed a finger over it.
“Hush, let me speak. I love you. But I also love Arthur. And Gwaine. And I’m not going to choose between you. I- I need you to trust me, Lance, this isn’t some stupid greed. I just can’t live without any of you.”
Lance nodded slowly, leant into Merlin’s shoulder, and snuggled there.
“I love you too. And well, I suppose I’ll have to make the most of it, won’t I? I know you, Merlin. I know you wouldn’t string me along, and you wouldn’t say this if you didn’t really mean it. So, tell me what Gwaine and Arthur say. And then I’ll want stories, of how it all happened.” He yawned, and smiled, “But not when I’m this fucking tired, alright?”
Merlin laughed, louder than he intended, just relieved to have his first yes. One of them at least understood. That would make it a whole load easier. He leant in, kissed Lance properly, tongue pushing into his mouth, and then of course Lance had to pull him down until they were half naked and rubbing against each other.
He was very late for Arthur. But it didn’t dampen his mood.
Lunch time was time for finding Gwaine. It was pretty obvious where he’d be at midday - loitering around the kitchens until someone took pity on him or was drawn in by his admittedly beautiful hair and fed him.
Merlin met him at the doors with a basket. Gwaine’s eyes widened, and he grinned.
“Romantic picnic?”
“We need to have words.”
Gwaine paled at that.
“Do I get fed before?”
Merlin smiled, reached up and stroked his cheek, brushing over his stubble.
“During. Alright?”
Gwaine nodded, reluctantly, and let Merlin lead him up to the battlements where they could ensure privacy. The stone was warm from the sun beating down on it, and Merlin settled comfortably into Gwaine’s arms, passing him bread.
“So, I don’t think I’ve said it, but I love you.” Gwaine made to kiss him, but Merlin stopped him with a hand, “And I have a feeling you might love me too. But I also love Lance and Arthur. I’ve… been seeing them.”
Gwaine’s face fell, and Merlin nudged him.
“What’s wrong?” He was quiet, soft, and completely unprepared for Gwaine’s tone.
“What’s wrong? What’s not wrong? You’ve all but admitted you don’t love me as much as I love you, and you’re going to break my heart! Oh, did you think I didn’t have one?”
He shrugged Merlin off, and turned away.
“Gwaine… I’m not portioning up love. I- I love you so much. The way you smile, the way the light catches your hair, the way you hide how brave you are, fuck, I’m so in love with how brave you are. And the way your eyes light up when you laugh, and your face crinkles, I want to trace every single laughter line. And the way you always make me laugh. Gwaine, I love you.”
Gwaine had turned back, and was staring at Merlin anew.
“Does this mean I get to fuck Lance and Arthur?”
Merlin laughed then, but Gwaine kept his face straight, deadpan, flicked his hair back subconsciously.
“You’ll have to work that out with them. Once I’ve told Arthur.”
Gwaine leant back in, and kissed the taste of their cheese out of Merlin’s mouth. Then he sat against the crenelations and ate an apple. Merlin watched, smiling softly.
“I love you,” Merlin whispered.
“I love you too.” It was a bit garbled, through a mouth full of apple, but Merlin didn’t mind it. Just lay down with his head in Gwaine’s lap, and let himself be held there.
And then, since Gwaine had taken to the first secret so well, he supposed it was an opportune moment to mention the second.
“By the way, Gwaine,” he said, and he pulled the apple away from Gwaine’s mouth with a string of his power.
Gwaine just looked down into his lap, at Merlin.
“Your eyes go all gold when you do that. Did you know?”
And then he laughed, clear and beautiful, and Merlin reached up to kiss him.
“You don’t mind?”
“It looks nice.”
Merlin laughed, and kissed him again.
“No, about the magic!”
“Well, I’ve had time to get used to it. You don’t really do subtle, do you Merlin? Besides, something had to be keeping you alive, and it wasn’t going to be your sword wielding skills now, was it?”
Merlin gave him a quick shove, and stood up.
“I need to be going now, so I’ll see you later. Not tonight, I’m talking to Arthur tonight.”
Gwaine pouted, doing that thing with his hair that he knew made Merlin go all mushy inside, but let him leave without too much of a fuss, all things considered.
oOo
The problem was, Merlin knew Arthur would be difficult. He’d struck lucky with Lance, and had somehow navigated his way through Gwaine’s hurt with love and flattery. He still wasn’t sure how he’d managed to prove that he was capable of loving them all fully, and didn’t really fancy his chances at managing it again. But he was going to have to.
So it didn’t help that Arthur caught him in a kiss as soon as he got in through the door.
“I’ve barely seen you all day.”
Merlin squirmed a little in his grasp, trying not to give into that voice, when it hummed in Arthur’s throat and sent little shivers over his skin.
“Yeah, been a bit busy, sorting something out…”
“I want you so much,” Arthur murmured, “You have no idea.”
It was almost a growl, his voice, and Merlin shook with it.
“Take me, then,” he offered, reasoning that Arthur was always in a better mood after sex, and it might help the message go down.
Arthur was filthy and desperate with his kiss, but his hands stayed firmly planted on Merlin’s hips. Merlin laughed, pulled them away, letting them roam over him like they clearly wanted to. Their clothes came off faster than Merlin really knew how to cope with, Arthur pulling him to the bed, insistent. And then Arthur found the oil.
“My turn,” he said, smirking, before biting his lip, conflicted.
“Arthur?”
“You’ll tell me if it hurts, won’t you?”
Merlin could only nod. He didn’t trust his voice.
It didn’t hurt. It was pretty wonderful, actually, especially because it was Arthur. He lay Merlin on his back, knelt between his legs and slid his fingers inside, slowly, Merlin talking him through it, little encouraging words here and there, turning into groans that made Arthur shiver when he got it right. Arthur knelt closer, pushed inside so very slowly. Merlin wrapped his legs around Arthur, trying not to be insistent but failing.
Arthur slid fully inside, then stopped, staring down into Merlin’s eyes.
“Arthur, what is it?”
“How- how is anything this good? Going to come-”
Merlin rested a finger across his lips, and Arthur sucked it in, slowly.
“Fuck. Stop thinking, start moving.”
So Arthur did. Faster, and faster, until Merlin was moaning things he was sure his rational mind would have a clear objection to. But then, Arthur was doing the same, about warmth and tightness, and lovelovelove. Merlin’s head dropped back between his shoulders, hanging just short of the pillows, propped as he was on his elbows. Arthur bent over him, kissed up his neck, his lips, taking Merlin’s cock far too gently as he pushed his tongue into Merlin’s mouth. And then Arthur was moaning into Merlin’s mouth, coming, pulling back to catch his breath as Merlin arched up, hands clutching the sheets, following Arthur over. Arthur slid out, rolled onto his side, pulled Merlin to him.
“I need to talk to you,” Merlin said, muffled, turning his face into Arthur’s shoulder.
“I’m listening.”
Merlin swallowed, entirely not ready to admit everything. But it would have to be said sometime. The only thing for it was to speak. But how?
As usual, with Merlin, it ended up garbled.
“Before we were together, I slept with Lance and Gwaine.”
Arthur frowned.
“Alright. Merlin, it doesn’t really matter who you slept with before me.”
“No, I mean, I’m in love with them.”
Arthur drew back, taking all contact and body heat from Merlin, leaving him cold and bereft.
“So I’m what? Some sort of diversion?”
“No, you prat, I love you too!”
“Right.” He could hear the disbelief. Oh, this was a bad idea. He took another deep breath.
“I love you, Arthur. I’d give… pretty much anything for you. Hell, I’ve tried to. I couldn’t bear it if you sent me away because of this, but I equally couldn’t bear losing Gwaine and Lance.” He sighed, and then he remembered Gwaine’s words, the portioning up his heart. “It’s not like I’ve got a certain amount of love to give, and only some of it can go to you. It’s the other way around. I see you, and it’s there, so much that I don’t really know what to do with it, or how to stop it breaking me apart. And there are three of you! Three lots, and I feel like I’m breaking.”
He paused, and Arthur didn’t speak, or even move.
“Especially now, Arthur. I love you so much, and right now I’m pretty sure I’m going to lose you. I’ve taken a risk I shouldn’t have, I’m sorry. I’ve hurt you. But that was never what I wanted, I just wanted to tell the truth. Please, speak to me, Arthur. I don’t think I could bear life without you.”
He didn’t speak, but he did draw Merlin in close to him.
“I’m thinking. Give me a minute.”
Well, if this was what fate had in store for them, it definitely explained the Lance feelings. That was… acceptable. And Merlin had said he loved him, which was quite brilliant. Sharing was not exactly what Arthur was used to, as a King, but as a knight he was sure he could manage. The fact that he was sharing with his knights would make it so much easier. Probably.
“I love you too,” he admitted, and Merlin rolled right on top of him, kissing his breath away. When he eventually managed to calm Merlin down, and regain his breath, he bit his lip.
“I think this will probably be fine. But, if they don’t- if they only want you, and I’m left alone… don’t rub it in my face, yeah?”
Merlin nodded and nuzzled him, thankful. Arthur les him, because he hated even the thought of giving this up when he’d only just really found it. They fell asleep, Merlin to quiet, unremembered dreams; Arthur to sounds he couldn’t place and bright lights just out of the corner of his eye, and holding Merlin tight to him and never letting him go.
Part Five
Title: Truth and Legend
Author:
weepingwillow9
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin, or this is what would happen
Characters: Arthur, Merlin, Lance, Gwaine, Gwen, Morgana, Elaine (OC), Linet (OC), Gareth (OC), Galahad (OC), Mordred, Gaius
Pairings: Arthur/Merlin/Lance/Gwaine, Morgana/Elaine, Lance/Elaine
Warnings: Sex, battles, attempted suicide, character death
Spoilers: This starts off sometime after Arthur's Coronation (Series Four Episode Three) but minus the events of Series Four Episodes One and Two - so Lancelot is still around. I like to think that the Cailleach became the sacrifice, anyway...
Rating: NC-17
Length: 44198
Summary: When the Lady Elaine arrives at Camelot, she sets off a chain of events that will change the Kingdom forever
Part Three
It took two more days of training for Elaine to realise that she couldn’t fight Morgana away when she wasn’t actually there. She had to see Morgana, to end whatever fledgling feelings were between them before they had time to properly gestate.
Linet was used to Elaine’s strange ways, so Elaine knew she wouldn’t ask awkward questions if asked to leave her in the forest for a few hours. They rode out in the early hours of the morning, leaving Galahad in Gwaine’s capable hands.
When she was sure Linet was a safe distance away, Elaine dismounted, taking the reins of her horse in her hand. She hoped they’d found the meeting place again, but Linet had said it was hard to tell. It certainly felt right; foreboding and oppressive.
She took a deep breath, filled her lungs with stinging fresh air.
“Morgana!”
And then she waited.
There was a slight rustling, but she couldn’t be sure if it was the wind or footsteps. It was disconcerting to say the least. Elaine wanted to rip off the blindfold, but she knew she couldn’t. It would ruin her hearing to have her sight again.
“Elaine?”
She spun towards the source of the sound.
“Do you take a sadistic pleasure in tormenting me?”
“What?”
“Oh, you didn’t foresee me coming?”
She bit the words out, and Morgana reeled back.
“I don’t understand what I’ve done.”
“I can’t see you. I can’t hear you.”
Morgana reached a hand out, tried to soothe over Elaine’s arm, but Elaine jumped back.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think, I’ll be more obvious in future.”
Elaine snorted with laughter.
“That’s what I came to say - there is no future.”
“Elaine? You’re confusing me again.”
“I can’t do it. I can’t give up everything I’ve worked for just for a chance at whatever it is I want with you. It’s not going to work!” Her voice started breaking up, and Morgana knew she was on the verge of tears. She couldn’t bear it. And she couldn’t understand. As far as she could tell, they’d only shared one true kiss. Morgana thought she had a lot more to do before Elaine would even consider more.
“Hey, Elaine, tell me what’s wrong.”
And because Elaine was clearly self-destructive, she let herself open up.
“I can’t get rid of thoughts of you. You’re everywhere and I just want you to kiss me again, but it would ruin everything! Don’t you see?”
“I can’t stop dreaming about you,” Morgana breathed, calm next to Elaine’s frantic misery.
“We’re on different sides. Arthur’s a good King, a really good King, and he’s what’s right for me. But most of all, my son. He’s good for Galahad, and I can’t give that up for someone I barely know. I have to go.”
Elaine turned, though she didn’t know where any of the trees were, couldn’t see her footing. She took two steps before Morgana’s hand closed around her wrist.
“Wait.”
Elaine twisted her arm, but Morgana kept a tight hold, two-handed now.
“No! You’re not going, not when I’ve only just found you!”
Then she pulled, hard and sharp, on Elaine’s arm. She staggered forward, into Morgana, who wrapped one arm around her and used her other hand to tilt Elaine’s head towards her own, and leant in to kiss her. Elaine struggled, then softened.
“I’d look after you, and Galahad. Together we’d do great things, Elaine. I’d be on the throne, and you’d be always beside me.”
Elaine shook her head.
“No, Morgana, it doesn’t work like that. I honestly believe that Arthur is right as King and I’m sorry. I can’t help you take something that isn’t yours.”
Morgana had to process Elaine’s words. Though she could guess from her visions that the person she was destined to be with was on the other side of the fight, she had hoped that Elaine could be persuaded to join her. The realisation that it could never happen hurt, a heavy punch to the gut, a knife cutting out a portion of Morgana’s heart. Elaine died in the visions for Arthur, not for her, and would always do so. Yet another reason to hate him, though she knew that she couldn’t blame him for Elaine’s choice.
That choice was that Arthur belonged on the throne. The thought that the woman she was already beginning to love disputed her claim to Camelot sliced cold between Morgana’s ribs.
“I have every right!” Morgana drew back, and Elaine could practically feel her shutting herself in. It was Elaine’s turn to soothe now, stepping back into Morgana’s space and melting against her.
“I won’t have this argument with you.” Elaine sighed, wanting so much that she knew she couldn’t have, aching for it. So much so, that she had to give in, just a little. Or else she would go mad with the torment. “If you come, I won’t object. I can’t go to you. Blindfold.” She pointed to it, and smiled, sweetly.
“I’ll find you.” Morgana promised, leaning in to kiss her again. The touch of her skin against Elaine’s was so unlike the Morgana that Elaine had heard of, bitter and cruel and ruthless, that she could barely recognise her. Maybe she wasn’t the real Morgana, after all. That would be nice, if it were true.
Unfortunately, though, it was only a daydream. Morgana was by all rights out of limits, and Elaine shouldn’t even have been entertaining the idea of seeing her again. But entertain it she did, and more than that. She kissed Morgana like there were more to come, each press of their lips a promise.
And then she pushed Morgana away, but just gently, fingers clenched in the lace of her dress.
“You need to go, now. Linet will be back soon, to take me to Camelot.”
Morgana ran a finger down Elaine’s face, ghosting over her lips, and then pulled apart from her.
“I’ll find a way to you,” she promised. Elaine listened as she walked away, the trailing of her dress and soft pad of her feet getting steadily quieter. Then she leant against the side of the horse, and waited.
“Did that help?” Linet asked, as they left the forest.
“I’m not sure.”
oOo
Elaine rushed back to her rooms, where she knew Galahad would still be with Gwaine. She trusted him. She really did. It was just that it was the first time leaving Galahad with him, and she wanted to make sure.
She opened the door to sounds of giggling, and a deeper, quieter laughter. Safe, then.
“Look, Galahad, it’s your Mum! You going to say hello?”
Gwaine laughed again.
“He’s waving, Elaine.”
“Is he? Oh, good boy, Galahad! Well done!”
She rushed over, Gwaine handing her baby to her for a cuddle.
“Feeling any better?”
“I hope so,” Elaine said, and that wasn’t entirely reassuring, but Gwaine supposed it was as good as he was going to get.
“Listen, Elaine, I’ve been thinking. Lance would love this.”
Elaine’s face fell; she knew exactly what was coming. And really, really didn’t want to have something else to think about and confuse her.
“What?” she asked, sweetly, hoping that feigning innocence would throw him. It didn’t.
“Playing with his son. Being a father.”
Elaine nodded, but didn’t say anything. Gwaine watched her. She was tense, but he had to carry on. Or there’d be no hope for Lance - he couldn’t defend himself if he didn’t know something was being hidden from him. And he deserved this happiness.
“You can’t deny him this, Elaine. He doesn’t know. I know you love Galahad with all your heart, what makes you think Lance won’t?”
“You don’t understand.” Elaine was trying to keep calm. But every time she opened her mouth, she sounded more and more terse than she intended. “I can’t scare him off, for Galahad as much as for me. And I don’t want him marrying me or something out of some twisted sense of duty. It’d only make things worse in the future, and all three of us miserable.”
“Why not consider someone else then, Elaine? If you don’t think it’s going to work. It’s just cruel to Lance to keep Galahad from him. If you at least told him, then he could choose. But he doesn’t know he’s missing anything.”
Elaine took a few deep breaths, sat down, and started bouncing Galahad on her knee.
“I know. Just, give me time. I need to try one last time. And I’ve got some things to think through. It’s a big step for me, too.”
She sounded so resigned that Gwaine didn’t know what to do. Except to loop an arm around her, and squeeze. It must be difficult, he thought, going from the sole parent to having help. Unconventially, too. It was natural that she’d find it difficult, become a little possessive.
When he left, Elaine had only her thoughts. The truth was, she didn’t know what to do with Lance any more. She hadn’t really thought of him in the past few days - Morgana had taken over everything. Morgana was the one she wanted, not Lance, sensible though it would be to marry him. She just couldn’t see it any more. And she supposed he should know. Elaine just needed some time, to get her thoughts straight. Try one last time to rid Morgana from them, go back to before.
If she couldn’t, Lance would make a great father, married to her or not. He’d train Galahad up as a knight, wouldn’t allow him to be treated differently because he was illegitimate. He’d live well, which only made it harder. Because now the decision of what to do was down to what Elaine wanted alone. And she didn’t know.
oOo
Merlin slipped into Arthur’s rooms late at night, creeping over the stone floor though rationally he knew there were no floorboards to creak and his soles were too soft to make a footfall. He didn’t want to wake Arthur. He just needed to be near him.
Merlin had been seeing Lance for so long now that he was a constant in his life. There was no doubting Lance. No worrying that he’d be lost, well, no more than he would for any other lover who happened to be a knight of Camelot. Gwaine was so easy going that Merlin knew he’d always be around. And he suspected that Gwaine wasn’t sleeping around since they’d started seeing each other, though he wasn’t thinking too much about that because it was incredibly awkward, and meant things that were difficult to think about, like love and devotion and Merlin’s guilt. It wasn’t like he could just solve everything by ending it with one of them - the thought of it made him curl up and wilt and rot inside. Gwaine and Lance were there to stay.
Arthur, however, was new. Arthur might come to his senses about this at any time, decide that it was not proper for a King to be sleeping with his manservant, let alone being romantic and picking him flowers. Though it had only been that once, and Merlin wasn’t sure if it would ever be repeated. He doubted Arthur knew either.
Merlin needed to make the most of Arthur, while he still had him. The plan was to breathe him in, memorise how he smelt, the rich mix of sweat, grass, muscle oils, and that something that Merlin could never quite place, that he could taste even stronger from Arthur’s mouth. He loved it, couldn’t get enough of it, would never be able to do without it again. He’d woken in the middle of the night needing it, unable to get back to sleep, and now he stripped off his clothing only to realise he had nothing to change into. He borrowed one of Arthur’s night shirts; it was soft, and it smelt of the softer soap the laundry used, a scent mingled with Arthur’s so often that it was almost synonymous.
He took a while to settle into the fabric, smelling the almost-Arthur every time he moved even slightly. Then he gathered the courage, pulled back the covers of the bed, and slid in. The warmth from Arthur’s body heated his immediately, and it felt like home. He wriggled a little closer, tensing when Arthur moaned and tossed.
Arthur turned, an arm thrown across Merlin. It hooked onto his waist, tugged. Merlin went, desperate not to wake Arthur, ending up with his face pressed into Arthur’s shoulder, legs tangled with Arthur’s, hands resting on his arms. Arthur moaned again, and it sounded suspiciously like Merlin.
His nose was in exactly the right position, so he breathed through it, and the wave of scent was perfect. A few more breaths, and he was asleep.
Dreams of men with alternating faces, smiling, frowning, kissing him.
Dream kisses melted into a real pressure, and Merlin’s eyes fluttered open, eyelashes brushing against skin. He looked up, and of course it was Arthur, stealing soft kisses in the dawn light, quiet.
“Oh, you’re awake. I didn’t want to-”
Merlin laughed, chasing after Arthur’s mouth sleepily, with a complete lack of coordination.
“I wanted you to.”
Arthur smiled.
“When I saw you there… you’re so beautiful. In my shirt, Merlin, I’m sure I’ve explained yours and mine by now.”
“The whole attraction is that it’s yours, Arthur.”
Arthur’s smile changed, and for a moment Merlin’s heart quickened out of fear. When he recognised the wide dark eyed lust on Arthur’s face, his heart skipped another beat, and he leant in. Only to be stopped by Arthur’s hand on his chest.
“Well, in that case…”
He pushed Merlin back down to the bed, kneeling over him, nose to nose, weight on his forearms.
“How would you like to be mine, too, Merlin?”
“Only if you’ll be mine.”
Merlin bit his lip. He wasn’t supposed to say that sort of thing, not if he wanted to keep Arthur for any length of time. Arthur liked being in control. Merlin understood that.
But Arthur only smiled, and kissed him.
“I thought you understood. Obviously I underestimated how much of an imbecile you are. I’m already yours.”
Merlin could allow the insult, because clearly to Arthur that meant I love you. Or something akin to that. Something Arthur couldn’t put into real, meaningful words yet. He wrapped his arms around Arthur, until Arthur got impatient, tugging at the night shirt. He stripped himself, then Merlin. Before he could get back to kissing Merlin, he rolled away.
“Let’s try something new today.”
“New?”
“It’s good, I promise.”
Merlin ran across the room, far too cold compared to the bed, grabbed one of Arthur’s bottles of oil. He left it in his reach, then went back to bed, and Arthur.
“Now you can kiss me again.”
Arthur did, all tongues and morning breath and warmth, flaring up into sharp heat until it was nearly unbearable. Then Merlin’s hand shot out for the oil, coated his fingers in the stuff. Arthur gasped when the fingers pressed to his arse.
“Trust me, alright? It’s easier for me to show you than tell you what to do, or we’d do it the other way.”
Arthur nodded, and Merlin slicked them both up, then guided Arthur over him to sink down on him, giving him the power over them both. He fought to keep his eyes open, cataloguing every single expression that crossed Arthur’s face, from surprise and doubt, back to surprise again, and then the most mesmerising thing Merlin had ever seen. Arthur’s pupils blown wide, mouth slightly open, nostrils flaring as he breathed hard.
“How- how is it?” Merlin managed to stammer out, regulating his breathing through force of will alone.
“Good, but I need to- fuck- can I?”
Merlin didn’t really know what he was agreeing to, not being a mind reader, but he nodded anyway, sure whatever it was, it’d be right.
Arthur’s thighs tensed, Merlin could feel it, so he at least had that warning before Arthur moved, changing the angle slightly as he shifted upwards. Merlin thrust up to meet them, until they formed their own rhythm.
And then it wasn’t enough, and Arthur rolled onto his back, pulling Merlin with him. Merlin reached down between them, and it took barely a touch before Arthur was coming, gasping in surprise. Merlin was laughing, and coming too, and he wrapped himself up in Arthur, safe and comfortable and never ever wanting to move again.
They had to, of course, not long afterwards. It was almost more effort than Arthur could find to get out of bed and drag Merlin up with him to get clean. But then he remembered that he was the King of Camelot, not just some lovesick fool. It was blatantly obvious that he was that, too, of course. Of course, he’d barely even admit it to himself.
oOo
Elaine didn’t have long to wait for Morgana.
She was washing when it happened. The blindfold was off, a rare moment of weakness, Linet lingering behind her with a fresh one to put on as soon as Elaine had dried her face. Elaine got on with the cleaning as fast as possible, splashing water over her squeezed shut eyelids. And then there was a voice.
Elaine? Don’t react, you alone can hear me.
Despite Morgana’s words, she felt herself stiffen, breathed slowly and deliberately to soften her muscles again. Elaine reached for the towel, slowly, prolonging their moment alone.
You need to… think to me. Are you alone? Can you talk?
Alone enough, if you’re quick.
Elaine took her time with the drying, but she knew it would be over soon. She directed her attention to her eyes and the area around them; it wouldn’t do for the skin to get chapped because she’d dried it badly. Then the blindfold would chafe.
I’ve found a way to see you, but you need to be alone. Can you empty your chambers?
There was a rush of emotion at your, a longing, or perhaps a jealousy, but the thoughts were too fleeting for Elaine to tell, and she tried to ignore them. If it became important, she would ask Morgana. It was certainly trivial then.
Give me a few minutes. Linet needs to dress me.
She knew she sent embarrassment then, but again, it didn’t matter. Why would it? Morgana barely knew her, it was understandable. Morgana recognised the feeling, and a hint of bitterness. Elaine hated the fact that she had to be dressed.
I’ll see you.
And then she was gone, and Elaine turned to Linet.
“The blindfold, please.”
“Are you alright, Elaine? You’ve been quiet.”
“I’ve got a lot to think about.” She smiled then, wry and harsh, and Linet didn’t really know how to respond. Just tied the knot at the back of her head, and manoeuvred her into the dress for the day.
“Dark blue today, my Lady. It suits you.”
Elaine was glad of that, with Morgana coming.
“Thank you. Actually, I can cope from here. I need some time to think.”
Linet knew well what that meant, and left.
Elaine busied herself strapping her sword around her waist, just in case. Then she took Galahad from his cradle, clean from Linet’s washing, and passed the few remaining minutes sitting on the floor with him, playing with his wooden horses.
There was laughter, soft and gentle and new to Elaine’s ears, and Galahad twisted in her grip and waved.
“Good boy,” she murmured, through force of habit rather than anything else.
“Hello, Elaine.”
Elaine stood, taking Galahad with her. Morgana’s eyes darted to the sword at Elaine’s hip.
“Don’t trust me, I see.”
“You can never be too careful. And I have a son to protect. I’m sorry.”
Morgana moved to take a seat at the table; Elaine heard her go and followed a little behind, Galahad held against her hip.
“I understand. I’d do the same, and I like it about you.” She paused for a long time there, though Elaine could feel that she wasn’t finished. She waited, running her fingertips along the edge of the table. They were both awkward. Elaine wished she could look to see if Morgana was blushing.
As if she’d heard Elaine’s thoughts - which she seriously wouldn’t put past Morgana but doubted was really happening purely from the fact that Morgana wasn’t kissing her yet - Morgana spoke.
“I wish you could look at me. I want to see your eyes. But I don’t want you hurt.”
Elaine nodded, and reached out her free arm for Morgana. She took Elaine’s hand between two of her own, caressing the palm slowly.
“Would you trust me? If I asked you to?”
Elaine bit her lip. A difficult question.
“Depends on what you wanted me to trust you with.”
Morgana hummed, a sound a little too high in pitch to be truly relaxed.
“If I asked you to put Galahad down and come to me, would you?”
Elaine smiled, slowly, a slight twitch that turned into something so much more.
“Alright.”
She rose, taking Galahad back to his cot, making sure he had things to play with behind the bars with him. Morgana watched her go, then turned her attention to the room.
“This has changed since I was last here.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t remind you of things lost.”
“It hasn’t changed enough…” Morgana admitted, “But I’m here to see you, so don’t apologise to me.”
Elaine stood right in front of Morgana, who encircled her waist, pulling her in close, down into her lap. Confident, she stole a kiss straight from Elaine’s lips.
“In the woods, I’m so alone. I used to have Agravaine, but now there’s nothing. And even he was a poor companion. I’m glad I’ve met you.”
Elaine sighed, and leaned back into Morgana.
“You know, you don’t have to stay there. You could come back.”
“Arthur would never take me.”
“He misses you. He’d find a way.”
Elaine tried to kiss Morgana, but she pulled away, held Elaine’s face between her palms.
“No, Elaine. You don’t understand. I can’t watch him on the throne. It’s mine.”
“No, it’s not!”
“It is! I’d bring magic, bring knowledge, back to the Kingdom. We could find someone to break your curse!”
Morgana was too defensive, she knew that as soon as the words were out of her mouth. And Elaine saw straight through them.
“If this was about the magic, Morgana, you’d give Arthur the benefit of the doubt. You’d go to him, talk to him, give him time to change the laws before you tried to take his throne from under him.” She shook her head, sadly. “I wish it was about the magic. Then you’d come back, and things would be so much easier. You know what I think, though? I think it’s all about you.”
Morgana’s grip on Elaine tightened. It was too close to home. But she wouldn’t talk about it, not with someone she had only just really met. She never talked about Uther. It all hurt too much. She let go and leant back.
“Come now,” Elaine soothed, “Let’s not talk about this. We have more important things.”
And Morgana allowed it, allowed Elaine’s apparent calm to slide over her. She shifted, until Elaine was forced to lean right into her, and pressed her lips to Elaine’s. Chaste at first, until she pulled Elaine closer by her waist so they touched from lips to where Elaine’s hip butted against Morgana’s stomach. Elaine inhaled sharply, through her mouth, and Morgana chased her lips hungrily, pulling her back with a tongue to the back of her teeth. Elaine moaned, and Morgana pulled her yet closer, careful not to crush, but to have a pressure between them that was nowhere near enough.
Morgana had known for some time that it was girls she was interested in. From her teens she had been beautiful, and when she came of age she received more male attention than she had ever bargained for, but never more than she enjoyed. She was under the protection of the King, so she could use the men’s drooling to get whatever she wanted. Unfortunately for her, what she wanted wasn’t them. It was her sweet, kind maidservant. Who, it turned out, wanted just about anyone but her.
Gwen only thought to enlighten her about this after Morgana had kissed her. Gwen had said she’d wondered what it would be like. It seemed cruel to Morgana, to promise so much just for an experiment. Something cold, like Gaius did with herbs and water in his chambers. Though Morgana knew Gwen hadn’t intended it like that, had thought that was all Morgana wanted, she couldn’t think of the girl the same way again. She had no real reason to think of Gwen while she kissed Elaine, so much braver, stronger. But think of her she did; if only to recognise that Gwen was in the past and this was what was important now. Elaine, her lips, and using what Morgana had learnt in her few kisses to make her happy.
For Elaine, though, the feel of another woman against her was new territory. She had wondered, after catching a couple of the knights errant competing in her father’s tournament together. If two men could love each other, could two women? Perhaps, but it was never an option for her. Her father needed an heir. But with Morgana in front of her, kissing her, she forgot her father. He had pushed her and Lancelot together, done nothing to stop them, even though there was no way knowing whether his intentions towards her were honourable. He’d known everything. And then he’d made her life a living hell, chased Elaine away. She owed him nothing. But she owed herself everything. There had been too much sacrifice, and this was all she wanted, all she deserved. Morgana, softer than anyone she’d kissed before, and yet somehow sharper too. Fearless, determined, everything Elaine wanted.
She let her tongue move in Morgana’s mouth like it used to in Lance’s. Morgana’s stifled answering sound was encouragement enough; she clutched at Morgana’s shoulder with one hand, letting the other run through her hair.
Morgana pulled back, head leaning back over the top of the chair, and Elaine just had to know what that neck felt like under her lips. Apparently that was good too.
“Fuck, Elaine- chair’s too small-”
Elaine understood perfectly where this was going. She got up eagerly, then her attention jumped to Galahad.
“Let’s not give him a show.”
“No.”
Morgana stood, took Elaine’s hand, and smiled.
“We’ll draw the curtains around the bed, and I’ll put a spell around us so he can’t hear us but we can hear him. How does that sound?”
“Perfect.”
Morgana led her to the bed, whispering words in a language that resonated with Elaine, but she couldn’t decipher. Nothing appeared to change.
“Galahad?” There was no answering sound, no alteration in the sounds of his play. So he couldn’t hear then. She turned, planted a kiss on Morgana’s cheek.
“Thank you. For not running away when you saw the baby.”
Morgana laughed.
“You forget, I’ve seen some of your futures. I knew I could never have you without Galahad.”
Elaine smiled, sat down on the bed and pulled Morgana to her.
“Tell me my future.”
Morgana stilled.
“Not a good idea, Elaine. Knowing your own future hardly ever turns out well. You’ll either reach it in trying not to or not reach it in trying to. It’s better if I don’t tell you.”
Elaine nodded. She was determined for nothing to spoil this, so she lay down, dragging Morgana with her, and kissed her.
Neither of them would have moved so quickly ordinarily. But neither of them could quite escape the idea that this might be it, all they ever had, all it would ever be. Morgana waved a hand and the curtains shut, and then she moved it up to sit on Elaine’s breast, over the fabric.
This was familiar, and Elaine let herself relax as Morgana’s hands moved over her, responding in kind. Though she could feel every swell of Morgana’s body - that she couldn’t quite get used to. It was a good different, but strange all the same. Morgana was comfortable, warm against her.
When Morgana reached behind Elaine for the buttons of her dress, Elaine didn’t refuse. And still, the threatening feeling that it would all be over too soon. They had to make it as much as they could, because they could be found at any moment, or either of them could change their mind, or one of them could die at the hands of the other. So Elaine slid out of her dress, helped Morgana to extricate herself from dirty black lace.
It was clumsy. Neither of them really knew what they were doing. And then, something slid, clicked into place. Elaine stopped waiting for a hardening that was never going to happen. Morgana stopped seeing Elaine as a mirror image of herself. They found the places that made each other gasp when they were touched, and the deeper places that made them moan. When Elaine threw her head back, Morgana’s name resonating low in her throat, Morgana thought it was the most wonderful sound she’d ever heard.
And then Elaine reached for her again, using the lines of her body as a guide, biting her lip in concentration. Morgana didn’t think much else after that.
Afterwards, it was just a bit too familiar for Elaine to handle. Morgana curled up next to her, head on her shoulder, Elaine’s arm held tight to her chest. Their fingers were interlaced, and Morgana stirred slightly, nuzzling into Elaine’s skin. She pressed a kiss to Elaine’s forearm, and that was it. The last person to do anything like that to Elaine had been Lance. And just look where that had ended.
“Well, I can’t stay here all day. If I don’t make an appearance, people will think I’ve fallen ill.”
Morgana sat up abruptly, letting go of Elaine, and she missed the touch immediately.
“Right.” Morgana couldn’t hide the disappointment; she wanted nothing more than to forget the world and just be held. But the world had a knack of intruding.
Elaine heard, and her hands sought out Morgana’s face to place it in the space surrounding her, leaning forwards to kiss her.
“Will you come back soon?”
“Tonight. I promise.”
oOo
When Elaine reached the knights, her lips were still kiss swollen. She could feel them, tender, and she hoped it wasn’t too obvious. She’d rubbed her nose red and made a show of sneezing periodically, so maybe that would be disguise enough.
Arthur partnered her with Leon for practice. She was beaten, quite spectacularly. Then again, her mind wasn’t really on the training session; it was trapped up in her chambers, or perhaps wherever Morgana was.
“Not up to your usual standards, I see,” Leon teased, once they’d reached the armoury. Elaine took the opportunity to sneeze.
“No. I’ve got this awful cold.”
“Oh, poor you! Come on, let’s have a look at you.” Leon took hold of her chin, tilted it up until he could look into her face properly.
“You’re still beautiful as ever.”
Elaine could just feel Arthur winking at them. He shouldn’t encourage Leon, he knew how Elaine felt on the subject. She could only hope this was a casual flirtation - she didn’t want to break this lovely man’s heart.
“Leon, don’t lie, I know I must be disgusting. Especially after that beating you gave me.”
“Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself, you’ve got a cold.”
“What if someone attacked me when I had a cold?”
Leon shut up at that, but after a while he squeezed her shoulder.
“Get some extra practice in then, while you still have a fuzzy head.”
She laughed, and shooed him away.
“You’ve got important places to be, go be useful.”
All Elaine really craved was some time alone. Arthur had other ideas.
“You alright, Elaine?”
“Just a bit ill, that’s all.” Yes. Sick in the head, if she thought she could get away with sleeping with Morgana.
Elaine leaned over to put down her sword. She couldn’t miss Arthur’s gasp.
“What is it?”
Arthur was too busy gaping to answer.
As Elaine had leant over, her dress had fallen open at the neckline. Not much, but enough to reveal a large, darkening love bite, just over her left breast.
“So the real reason you don’t want Leon is because you’re seeing someone else.”
Elaine panicked. How much did he know? How? How would he punish her now he knew? She drew her arms around herself, as if it would help in hiding evidence.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, don’t lie to me Elaine, I’ve seen the love bite. Out with it! Who is it?” Arthur’s tone was so teasing that Elaine relaxed, just a little.
She hadn’t even noticed the bruise. Elaine made a mental note to warn Morgana against such obvious marks.
“I- I can’t tell you.”
“Why not?” Arthur’s voice turned suspicious, and Elaine took a step backwards.
“Because it’s too early to know if anything will come of it,” Elaine lied, hoping it would ring true in Arthur’s ears. She didn’t have anything to fear.
“Alright. But I will find out, Elaine. If it takes me the world.”
He slapped her on the back, friendly and teasing. All Elaine could do was stand and grimace and shiver.
oOo
Merlin had a bit of a conundrum. While it was absolutely wonderful being with Arthur, it was also absolutely wonderful being with Lance, and being with Gwaine. He didn’t want to choose. In fact he refused to, point blank.
Something told him that he couldn’t keep them compartmentalised now, though. Arthur wasn’t really one for secrets. Yes, he could keep something like rescuing a young druid boy quiet, but he didn’t see said young druid boy every day in very public places and decide that the best thing to do would be to stop what he was doing and grin inanely at him. There had been a hand around Merlin’s waist just outside the armoury, too. And while it was nice, he could just imagine what would have happened had Lance or Gwaine or even both been around.
So that left Merlin with one option. He was going to have to tell them. They wouldn’t like it. It was going to be completely fucking impossible. But it would be so much better than this secrecy.
He loved them. All three of them. Wonderful timing on love’s part.
Merlin refused himself the mental images of what might happen if they accepted his decision, because it seemed so unlikely. Though, they did seem to creep up on him with alarming regularity. The thought of Lance and Arthur, or Gwaine and Lance, or Arthur and Gwaine was just so hot that he could only hope his mind would betray him when he was alone somewhere, or where someone wouldn’t notice if his face suddenly went slack, rather than midway through his duties.
And there he was, allowing the thoughts to seep through again. He had more important things to be thinking about, had to keep his mind on track.
How the hell was he going to tell them, and get them to go along with it?
oOo
Elaine hadn’t really intended it to happen. But Gwaine had been insistent, begged even. He really needed a favour, and Elaine was going in that general direction. Could she possibly drop his sword off in his chambers? In between being so pleased that Gwaine had thought her capable of navigating the castle on her own to find his room and being a good friend, she saw no real reason to refuse.
But once she got there. Well. Gwaine’s room was the one before Lance’s. And before she knew it, she was knocking on his door.
It was going to happen sometime. It may as well happen sooner rather than later. Elaine knew she’d ruled out marrying Lance, now that she knew just how far she was willing to go with, and for, Morgana. She’d wanted Lance to love her, and to marry her, but now she barely thought about Lance like that. Maybe it wasn’t love - maybe it hadn’t been all along. And while she deliberated about what she felt for him, she was only putting off telling him about Galahad, which was unfair.
“Who is it?” he called, and Elaine forced herself to clear her throat.
“It’s Elaine.”
“Oh, hey! I’ll just get the door for you…”
The sound of scuffling, and then the door was opening.
“Come in, Elaine.”
“I’d rather not, if it’s alright, Lance. I’ve got something to show you.”
“Oh?”
“It’s a surprise.”
She didn’t sound very enthusiastic. More determined, in a grim, teeth gritted sort of way. Lance followed her, a little reluctant. But at least like this, he was pretty sure the surprise wasn’t something along the lines of her taking off all her clothes when they were alone together.
As they got closer, though, Elaine’s smile grew. Lance was intrigued.
“Alright. You should probably close your eyes, and sit down, while I explain.”
She felt with her fingers, soft over Lance’s face, to make sure he wasn’t looking, then took his wrist, opened the door. It felt a bit precarious to him, the blind leading the blind, but he knew he could trust Elaine. She didn’t just need her sight.
She asked Linet to leave, then led Lance to a wooden chair, made him sit down in it, and started to walk away. Elaine turned her face away from him. No matter which way she turned, she couldn’t see Lance when she spoke, but old habits die hard and she didn’t want him to see her when she spoke of this. She’d forgiven him. She didn’t want to flaunt the hurt, still fresh as the day he’d left. And she didn’t want him to hear it in her voice.
“The night you left, I had something important to tell you. I waited, but you never turned up.” She took a deep, shaky breath. It was enough for Lance to think she wasn’t going to continue.
“What did you want to tell me?”
Elaine reached Galahad, thankful he was being quiet for his father. He would usually have gurgled at least once by now. She picked him up, took another breath, using the feel of her son against her as her bravery.
“I was pregnant. Sir Lancelot, you have a son.”
“I- what?” he spluttered, and Elaine turned, smiling, back to him. His eyes had opened unconsciously when she spoke, and he took in her soft, warm look. But only briefly, before his eyes latched onto the tiny bundle of limbs and cloths. His skin was a little darker than Elaine’s, like Lance’s own, and his curls were a slightly lighter version of his father’s.
Lance gaped.
“Take him, he’s yours as much as he is mine.” Elaine passed a sleepy Galahad over to him, crouching to arrange Lance’s hands around him.
Lance felt the weight, knew from that and the obvious timings that this was not a newborn child. He started to tick off months.
“He must be, what, a year old now?”
“Nearly. Eleven months.”
“Oh.” Lance took a moment to absorb everything. There was no denying that the child in his arms was his own. It was just a bit too much, all in one go, and unprepared.
Galahad reached out, curious, and took a surprisingly secure hold of Lance’s nose.
“What’s his name?”
“Galahad.”
“Hello, Galahad.”
Galahad waved. Lance laughed, and cuddled his son.
“So, when you wanted me to marry you, was that for you or…?”
“I won’t deny I wanted the help with Galahad. I still do. But maybe we can do it in some other way. I know now that we wouldn’t work out. We don’t love each other, do we? Not as we should. We’d both be miserable. Stupidly, that was my reason for coming here. And I didn’t want you to know about Galahad, because I didn’t want you to go all chivalrous on me and marry me out of honour. I didn’t want your charity. I still don’t.”
Lance didn’t interrupt, too preoccupied with combing through Galahad’s hair and playing with his tiny fingers.
“So you did all of this, the blindfold, everything, for Galahad?”
“Yes. I love him so much. And I know you will too.”
Lance smiled, kissed his son’s forehead for the first time.
“I’m sure I will.”
oOo
Merlin had his decision. He even knew who he was going to tell first - Lance, because he was the least likely to make a scene. Merlin could work out what sounded right with him.
But when he reached Lance’s rooms, he wasn’t there. He’d have suspected the training grounds, but he’d just been there, and no Lance. Not the armoury, either, because he’d been through there, and he knew Lance wasn’t on patrol.
When he finally reached Elaine’s chambers, because surely she’d know where Lance was, he stopped dead in the doorway.
Lance had his arms out for Galahad. Who was walking. All of two steps, granted, but Galahad was walking! Arms in the air, clutching an imaginary mother’s hands.
“Elaine,” he laughed, “He’s doing it! Oh, you beautiful boy!”
And then Lance gathered Galahad close to him, and Merlin wanted to melt. Not that he wanted anything to do with Galahad himself. He hadn’t the first idea of what to do with a baby, and really didn’t want to know. It was more that the tenderness on Lance’s face, clear in every movement he made, was utterly and completely beautiful.
Lance turned, leaving Merlin a little flushed, leaning against the doorframe, waving.
“Hi,”
“Merlin!” Lance grinned, “You’ve probably met my son.”
Galahad giggled, and Lance took that as assent, tickling him in return.
“Hi, Merlin,” Elaine laughed, from her position seated on the bed.
“You told him!”
“Yeah, I did. It was going to happen sometime, you know…”
If Merlin had any lingering doubts about telling them all what he felt, they disappeared at those words. He’d have to tell them at some point anyway. Sooner rather than later was best, before they got too settled and he screwed everything up. Cracks would form if he tried to changed things after they had firmed in place.
But not now. Now, Lance was happy.
“Hey, Lance, I need a word. Later; I’ll come see you in the morning, alright?”
oOo
It was still quite early when Merlin went to see Lance. He had to catch him before he went out on patrol, and that meant before he went to see to Arthur. He had to shake Lance awake.
Lance just pulled him down for a kiss and promptly rolled over.
“What time is it?”
“Time we had a talk.”
“Can it wait?”
“No, Lance, it’s very, very important. It’s about us.”
Lance sounded much more awake after that.
“What is it, Merlin? You’re not- Are you?”
Merlin laughed a little, nervously, sitting next to him on the narrow bed. Lance pulled him close, screwing his eyes tight against the harsh morning sunlight.
“Of course I’m not, Lance. I love you. But-”
Lance sucked in air through his mouth, and Merlin placed a finger over it.
“Hush, let me speak. I love you. But I also love Arthur. And Gwaine. And I’m not going to choose between you. I- I need you to trust me, Lance, this isn’t some stupid greed. I just can’t live without any of you.”
Lance nodded slowly, leant into Merlin’s shoulder, and snuggled there.
“I love you too. And well, I suppose I’ll have to make the most of it, won’t I? I know you, Merlin. I know you wouldn’t string me along, and you wouldn’t say this if you didn’t really mean it. So, tell me what Gwaine and Arthur say. And then I’ll want stories, of how it all happened.” He yawned, and smiled, “But not when I’m this fucking tired, alright?”
Merlin laughed, louder than he intended, just relieved to have his first yes. One of them at least understood. That would make it a whole load easier. He leant in, kissed Lance properly, tongue pushing into his mouth, and then of course Lance had to pull him down until they were half naked and rubbing against each other.
He was very late for Arthur. But it didn’t dampen his mood.
Lunch time was time for finding Gwaine. It was pretty obvious where he’d be at midday - loitering around the kitchens until someone took pity on him or was drawn in by his admittedly beautiful hair and fed him.
Merlin met him at the doors with a basket. Gwaine’s eyes widened, and he grinned.
“Romantic picnic?”
“We need to have words.”
Gwaine paled at that.
“Do I get fed before?”
Merlin smiled, reached up and stroked his cheek, brushing over his stubble.
“During. Alright?”
Gwaine nodded, reluctantly, and let Merlin lead him up to the battlements where they could ensure privacy. The stone was warm from the sun beating down on it, and Merlin settled comfortably into Gwaine’s arms, passing him bread.
“So, I don’t think I’ve said it, but I love you.” Gwaine made to kiss him, but Merlin stopped him with a hand, “And I have a feeling you might love me too. But I also love Lance and Arthur. I’ve… been seeing them.”
Gwaine’s face fell, and Merlin nudged him.
“What’s wrong?” He was quiet, soft, and completely unprepared for Gwaine’s tone.
“What’s wrong? What’s not wrong? You’ve all but admitted you don’t love me as much as I love you, and you’re going to break my heart! Oh, did you think I didn’t have one?”
He shrugged Merlin off, and turned away.
“Gwaine… I’m not portioning up love. I- I love you so much. The way you smile, the way the light catches your hair, the way you hide how brave you are, fuck, I’m so in love with how brave you are. And the way your eyes light up when you laugh, and your face crinkles, I want to trace every single laughter line. And the way you always make me laugh. Gwaine, I love you.”
Gwaine had turned back, and was staring at Merlin anew.
“Does this mean I get to fuck Lance and Arthur?”
Merlin laughed then, but Gwaine kept his face straight, deadpan, flicked his hair back subconsciously.
“You’ll have to work that out with them. Once I’ve told Arthur.”
Gwaine leant back in, and kissed the taste of their cheese out of Merlin’s mouth. Then he sat against the crenelations and ate an apple. Merlin watched, smiling softly.
“I love you,” Merlin whispered.
“I love you too.” It was a bit garbled, through a mouth full of apple, but Merlin didn’t mind it. Just lay down with his head in Gwaine’s lap, and let himself be held there.
And then, since Gwaine had taken to the first secret so well, he supposed it was an opportune moment to mention the second.
“By the way, Gwaine,” he said, and he pulled the apple away from Gwaine’s mouth with a string of his power.
Gwaine just looked down into his lap, at Merlin.
“Your eyes go all gold when you do that. Did you know?”
And then he laughed, clear and beautiful, and Merlin reached up to kiss him.
“You don’t mind?”
“It looks nice.”
Merlin laughed, and kissed him again.
“No, about the magic!”
“Well, I’ve had time to get used to it. You don’t really do subtle, do you Merlin? Besides, something had to be keeping you alive, and it wasn’t going to be your sword wielding skills now, was it?”
Merlin gave him a quick shove, and stood up.
“I need to be going now, so I’ll see you later. Not tonight, I’m talking to Arthur tonight.”
Gwaine pouted, doing that thing with his hair that he knew made Merlin go all mushy inside, but let him leave without too much of a fuss, all things considered.
oOo
The problem was, Merlin knew Arthur would be difficult. He’d struck lucky with Lance, and had somehow navigated his way through Gwaine’s hurt with love and flattery. He still wasn’t sure how he’d managed to prove that he was capable of loving them all fully, and didn’t really fancy his chances at managing it again. But he was going to have to.
So it didn’t help that Arthur caught him in a kiss as soon as he got in through the door.
“I’ve barely seen you all day.”
Merlin squirmed a little in his grasp, trying not to give into that voice, when it hummed in Arthur’s throat and sent little shivers over his skin.
“Yeah, been a bit busy, sorting something out…”
“I want you so much,” Arthur murmured, “You have no idea.”
It was almost a growl, his voice, and Merlin shook with it.
“Take me, then,” he offered, reasoning that Arthur was always in a better mood after sex, and it might help the message go down.
Arthur was filthy and desperate with his kiss, but his hands stayed firmly planted on Merlin’s hips. Merlin laughed, pulled them away, letting them roam over him like they clearly wanted to. Their clothes came off faster than Merlin really knew how to cope with, Arthur pulling him to the bed, insistent. And then Arthur found the oil.
“My turn,” he said, smirking, before biting his lip, conflicted.
“Arthur?”
“You’ll tell me if it hurts, won’t you?”
Merlin could only nod. He didn’t trust his voice.
It didn’t hurt. It was pretty wonderful, actually, especially because it was Arthur. He lay Merlin on his back, knelt between his legs and slid his fingers inside, slowly, Merlin talking him through it, little encouraging words here and there, turning into groans that made Arthur shiver when he got it right. Arthur knelt closer, pushed inside so very slowly. Merlin wrapped his legs around Arthur, trying not to be insistent but failing.
Arthur slid fully inside, then stopped, staring down into Merlin’s eyes.
“Arthur, what is it?”
“How- how is anything this good? Going to come-”
Merlin rested a finger across his lips, and Arthur sucked it in, slowly.
“Fuck. Stop thinking, start moving.”
So Arthur did. Faster, and faster, until Merlin was moaning things he was sure his rational mind would have a clear objection to. But then, Arthur was doing the same, about warmth and tightness, and lovelovelove. Merlin’s head dropped back between his shoulders, hanging just short of the pillows, propped as he was on his elbows. Arthur bent over him, kissed up his neck, his lips, taking Merlin’s cock far too gently as he pushed his tongue into Merlin’s mouth. And then Arthur was moaning into Merlin’s mouth, coming, pulling back to catch his breath as Merlin arched up, hands clutching the sheets, following Arthur over. Arthur slid out, rolled onto his side, pulled Merlin to him.
“I need to talk to you,” Merlin said, muffled, turning his face into Arthur’s shoulder.
“I’m listening.”
Merlin swallowed, entirely not ready to admit everything. But it would have to be said sometime. The only thing for it was to speak. But how?
As usual, with Merlin, it ended up garbled.
“Before we were together, I slept with Lance and Gwaine.”
Arthur frowned.
“Alright. Merlin, it doesn’t really matter who you slept with before me.”
“No, I mean, I’m in love with them.”
Arthur drew back, taking all contact and body heat from Merlin, leaving him cold and bereft.
“So I’m what? Some sort of diversion?”
“No, you prat, I love you too!”
“Right.” He could hear the disbelief. Oh, this was a bad idea. He took another deep breath.
“I love you, Arthur. I’d give… pretty much anything for you. Hell, I’ve tried to. I couldn’t bear it if you sent me away because of this, but I equally couldn’t bear losing Gwaine and Lance.” He sighed, and then he remembered Gwaine’s words, the portioning up his heart. “It’s not like I’ve got a certain amount of love to give, and only some of it can go to you. It’s the other way around. I see you, and it’s there, so much that I don’t really know what to do with it, or how to stop it breaking me apart. And there are three of you! Three lots, and I feel like I’m breaking.”
He paused, and Arthur didn’t speak, or even move.
“Especially now, Arthur. I love you so much, and right now I’m pretty sure I’m going to lose you. I’ve taken a risk I shouldn’t have, I’m sorry. I’ve hurt you. But that was never what I wanted, I just wanted to tell the truth. Please, speak to me, Arthur. I don’t think I could bear life without you.”
He didn’t speak, but he did draw Merlin in close to him.
“I’m thinking. Give me a minute.”
Well, if this was what fate had in store for them, it definitely explained the Lance feelings. That was… acceptable. And Merlin had said he loved him, which was quite brilliant. Sharing was not exactly what Arthur was used to, as a King, but as a knight he was sure he could manage. The fact that he was sharing with his knights would make it so much easier. Probably.
“I love you too,” he admitted, and Merlin rolled right on top of him, kissing his breath away. When he eventually managed to calm Merlin down, and regain his breath, he bit his lip.
“I think this will probably be fine. But, if they don’t- if they only want you, and I’m left alone… don’t rub it in my face, yeah?”
Merlin nodded and nuzzled him, thankful. Arthur les him, because he hated even the thought of giving this up when he’d only just really found it. They fell asleep, Merlin to quiet, unremembered dreams; Arthur to sounds he couldn’t place and bright lights just out of the corner of his eye, and holding Merlin tight to him and never letting him go.
Part Five