Off the Beaten Path 3/3
Two weeks after Uther died and Camelot still did not seem to know if it should be mourning or celebrating. The official coronation celebration was another two weeks away, nobles and servants alike scrambling to get things ready. Morgana watched the courtyard, highly amused by the presents rolling in that day. There were wonderful rugs from Dyfed, and some of the wine they were famous for. It would be a surprise to all but a few in two weeks when Arthur's first proclamation after being crowned would be the dissolution on the ban of magic - and she, Merlin, and Mordred would be there to stop any of the protestors getting too excited.
Lancelot shifted by her side and she smiled over at him, and at Gwen on his other side. In public, Gwen sometimes slid her hand over Lancelot's - for now, that was something Morgana dared not do. They were still fighting, choosing what they could push and what they couldn't. As nobles, she and Arthur were used to having to hide parts of their lives... but it still ached that they might not be able to publicly acknowledge those important to them. Certainly she and Gwen and Lancelot hadn't gotten to the point Arthur and Merlin were at quite yet - but they would.
Perhaps then they could find time to explain the connection between the four of them that so far left Arthur and Gwen out... and then they could bring them into it. She leaned slightly closer to Lancelot, not daring to put her head on his shoulder but aching to do it, and to pull Gwen closer.
She had a hand out, ready to touch or do something similarly inappropriate that would make people stare in disapproval when Arthur marched up to them, Mordred trailing after him, and announced, "Merlin is nowhere to be found."
Irritated, she arched a brow up at him and glanced to Merlin and Arthur and back again. "Why is this my problem?"
"He won't tell me where he is," Arthur growled, eyes sparking with anger, fire behind his eyes. Morgana felt a cold curl of worry in her belly and she glanced at Mordred in concern.
What she received back was not at all what she expected, his hands clenched behind his back and his mind-voice carefully even. 'I cannot sense Emrys. I do not know why.'
She stared for a moment, wondering what he meant - because Merlin was a buzz in the back of her mind, she could sense him clearly. Mordred wasn't lying - it was much harder to lie mind-to-mind, and she kept herself calm, not wanting to let herself think about trust and Mordred and why Merlin would block himself from the youth that had once been Arthur's doom. Carefully, not evening knowing what she wanted the answer to be, she asked, "Lancelot? Can you sense Merlin?"
The man paused as she looked at him, his mouth opening for the automatic response - and then closing, his eyes wide and stunned. "No. I can't."
Some tension bled out of Merlin and seemed to go into Arthur. Before he could work himself up or send knights on patrols she said, "I can. I don't think - there's no reason for him to deliberately block them and not me. Follow.
She was off without another word, trying not to contemplate if Merlin had been specifically blocking the other two. He might be angry with her if he had been, but he had said nothing - in fact the last conversation they'd had he had made vague allusions to one of the top floors of the castle, a blocked off wing. As they had all been drunk with some early opened ale (it was for Arthur, why should they not use it early?) she couldn't be quite sure of last night's memories.
Yet he was up, and to the east. She knew, suddenly, what wing he had been talking about, where he was, and she stopped halfway up the stairs, blinking upward. "Oh," she said in realization, softly muttered to the wall. She looked back at Arthur and wondered if he even knew.
He looked back, any worry or concern masked under glaring impatience. "Stop dawdling, Morgana."
She narrowed her eyes, but the concern she felt would not be waylaid by annoyance, not this time. "He's in the east wing above. It used to be the royal wing."
Even Mordred straightened up at that, understanding from whatever she and Merlin had let drop that Uther's wife, Queen Igraine, had lived in that wing, on that floor, and that Uther had gone mad with grief. Blinded to anything but the bad in magic. The stories were confusing - she had died because of magic, and on the night of Arthur's birth. That was all that was clear, all that had ever been clear and she had never stopped to wonder before what that might mean.
"Go on," Arthur prompted, looking so unconcerned it had to be faked. "Let's see what our favorite warlock has gotten himself into this time."
Watching him carefully, she saw no hesitation, not even a twitch - only annoyance and an edge of anger as she continued to stand there. Before anything could come of it, she turned without warning and went up the stairs, her steps fast and light as the door approached closer and closer. It wasn't sealed like it should have been, locked and boarded up. The boards sat to one side, the door stood wide open. The door ill-fit the entry way, like it had been forced onto it. It was likely, Morgana thought, that once the doorway had no door, just like every other archway of the castle that didn't contain a room.
Stepping through it, she found herself in a long hallway, with even a few branches off of it. She took a few steps forward and something buzzed through her mind. The others slipped by her, their words meaning nothing and seeming to slide off of her, as did their eyes. Until Mordred stepped through and cried out, stumbling back and almost falling down the deadly stairs. Arthur snatched him back, arm coming around the boy to clutch him close as Mordred's knees gave out, still crying out and hands scrabbling at his head. "The dead - their thoughts - "
"They left their magic here," Morgana said, feeling it now. "A more immortal memory than even Uther could get rid of. There were many here. I think - I think the wing was filled with them. Sorcerers. I don't understand."
The last she uttered softly, her brow creasing as she tried to see the past instead of the future for once but her eyes refused to turn there, only catching brief feelings and knowledge before it was gone, leaving her bereft and Mordred shaking, trembling in Arthur's arms but denying the encouragement toward the stairs. "No, it's gone now - it was... a warning. To any of their kind that came. I could hear them, but they had so little time and were half mad with fear... it didn't work so well. I could feel their screams as they died. He... he and the knights there..."
"Don't," Gwen said, her lips trembling as she stepped forward, hugging the boy to her, tugging him from Arthur's arms. "We get it. You don't need to say it."
"Merlin is up here?" Arthur asked, looking vaguely sickened. "Can't he feel - "
"Yes, he is. I can still feel him," Morgana said, her eyes twisting to the rooms about them. "We should - search."
She hadn't meant to say that. She had meant they should follow again - she knew exactly where he was. But something else in her hissed at her to be silent - something important was here. As they started searching the rooms she walked past, all of them engrossed in looking at the rooms that were so different, held so much history. Or maybe the magic made them look away.
The door loomed in front of her after two turns of the hall and she knew what it was. The dragon tapestry stood across from it, and the door itself seemed special, the room inside larger. It opened with a push of her hand, not even entirely closed. She looked blankly at the bed inside, its sheets clean and white even though they must have been blood splattered the last time someone slept there - but, no, he hadn't been born here. She had been so weak - they had taken her elsewhere.
Then Uther had come back, and slaughtered the sorcerers that had lived in the wing. Except Morgana didn't know why. Hand still on the door, she shifted and her gaze caught on a connecting door. It was afar, and she could make out books and books, a miniature library of its own... a library nearly as large as their actual one. Amazed, she found herself stepping inside - and the door squeaked open to show Merlin, pale faced and wide-eyed, gaze glued to the book in front of him. "Merlin?"
"Morgana," he said dully. "Did you know?"
"Know what?" she asked, stepping closer, concerned and a little fearful by the absence of any life in Merlin's gaze. "What should I know?"
"Nimueh was Court Sorcerer." Merlin said flatly and it was so absurd, Morgana wanted to laugh - but Merlin didn't give her the chance, continuing in that same horrible tone devoid of anything. "Queen Igraine couldn't produce an heir. Or maybe it was Uther - who knows. Uther had to have an heir, and Igraine was not as opposed to magic - she and Nimueh were friends. In fact, Nimueh was apparently the godmother of Igraine, her twin Morgause, and her younger sister Viviane."
"Was she?" Morgana asked, cautiously slipping into the chair across from him and no longer paying attention to the shelves of books lining the walls, surrounding them on every side. "What does - Nimueh have to do with Igraine? Did she curse her?"
Merlin barked a short hard laugh, then pressed a horrified hand to his mouth, looking at her with sad eyes. He slowly dropped his hand back to the book. "She was also priestess of the Isle of the Blessed, you know. She popped back to it when someone came as a supplicant... Igraine knew her power. Had told Uther. And when Uther went to magic for what medicine had failed to give him - neither woman objected."
The bottom dropped out of her stomach, her heart pounding in a sickening manner. "No. They didn't - There's a balance. They had to know."
"Here." He thrust the book at her - which was, she now knew, some kind of journal. With trembling fingers she opened it.
"My name is Nimueh. My father is unknown, my mother long dead. Today, I have am no longer just Priestess to the Isle of the Blessed, but Court Sorcerer of Camelot, where prophecy says the Once and Future King will be born within a century's time - from the Pendragon line. I am confident that I can help this come to pass and protect the family. Uther distrusts magic, but I can make him laugh and I have found a friend in the King. For once there is someone who has a power nearly as absolute as my own. It is a pleasure to see Igraine grown into womanhood. I feel I have come home."
Morgana paused, swallowed, and flipped through the pages, scanning. Nimueh had been a vibrant, strong woman, confident in her own power and ambitions. She knew she could have anything she wanted if she just tried hard enough, and magic could solve nearly all of her problems. The pages described a Camelot where her magic was common place, her chambers cleaning themselves (no maid would come near her, which Morgana felt Nimueh had probably been hurt at, but never admitted) and the land green and healthy.
What made her tremble was the affection in the words for Igraine - and Morgause, her twin. Morgana's mother. She had visited her often, and had mused there must be magic in the blood to have one sister blond as wheat and the other dark as night, but both with the same sweet and slightly wicked personality - though Igraine, surprisingly, had been the one more wicked and up for pranks as a child while Morgana's own mother had grown to be more staid.
Viviane was mentioned little, except that she was a quiet, thoughtful child of nearly a decade of difference with her older sisters.
The tone grew more serious as the dates shifted, Nimueh worried about Igraine, who wanted a child so badly, and Uther, who needed a heir to establish his line successfully. Igraine, as the older sister and first married, had been given away as bride to the man she loved and her father approved of. Respect had been won in battle, kingship in bed. It would be sealed with a child - and then Morgause married, and things became more... desperate.
"If Morgause has an heir first - and the gods know she and her husband are so sweet in love they can't even see, so it shan't be long - it could cause problems for the kingdom. Uther has proposed to be today... I should not contemplate it. There is always a price for these things... but I am Priestess. I am powerful. I am more powerful than any that has come before me. I will do this for them. They are willing to pay the price - I will make the balance accept a life of lesser power for once, of lesser emotion. Uther and Igraine will love there son only as much as they do each other - there is no emotional connection that would be as great. As for the child... I have a sense there is no magical power besides myself that would do as a sacrifice, and I will not ask my brothers and sisters to lay down their lives for him. No - perhaps many lives can do. A slew of bandits, a cell full of murderers.
Not them. I will turn the old magic away. I will give them their heir, the king the land is waiting for.
I shall give them a son."
"No, they couldn't have," Morgana breathed but knew it was true all the same. She looked up to find Merlin had another journal in his hands and was looking at her, swallowing slowly. There was something in his eyes that was asking a question, and before he could utter it she quickly looked down, flipping pages.
"I did not mean to. I tried to turn the magic away. He did not believe me. He has... I can feel them. Each of their deaths, I can feel them just as I felt hers. Oh, gods - is this what the price is for the king we wait for? Not just of mother, of emotional balance, but of power? He has slaughtered them, the sorcerers of the court. I fled to Morgause - but she turned me away, her hand on her burgeoning belly and I understand. Safety - they could not be safe if I was here.
Instead I have found myself traveling with a woman escaping Camelot in the midst of the purges. She is not magic herself - not truly. She knows a few charms and that would perhaps be enough for Uther to condemn her. But she is pregnant and worried. I can feel the child's life, despite being only a month in her belly. I don't even know how she knows.
If I had to guess, I would say the babe was conceived the same night the prince was born."
Morgana paused, looking up at Merlin, wondering if perhaps that was all there was, the beginning of Nimueh's descent into terror and madness. "Now she's talking about after - how much did you read?"
"I didn't skim like you're doing," Merlin said vaguely. "I read up to about there - then it was... I skipped past it. I didn't... need to read the rest of that one. She talks about Viviane - you and Arthur's aunt I suppose - in this one a little. And Tristan, their half-brother from the wrong side of the sheets. There's... connections in everything. I think the old magic sort of... guided her places, even then."
Morgana nodded, something in her mind clicking. Guiding her - then maybe the woman was important. She skipped a few more pages, disappointed as Nimueh left the woman in a small village just outside Camelot's borders called - She paused, read it again, looked back at Merlin and then down quickly before he looked up. She skimmed the pages quickly, watching the dates. Arthur had been born - then nine months later... No, barely eight, no wonder Merlin was scrawny even as a grown man.
"I don't know why I was drawn here, to help in this birthing. Despite it being early, it was easy. I did not even need to use magic. The child was a boy, and there is nothing odd about him as far as I can tell. Yet, the old magic seems... pleased. And I do feel like he is kin in some way. Perhaps it is one bastard to another. We are both fatherless - which is better than little Arthur and Morgana. It seems both twins were bound to die birthing their children."
"...There is a knot hanging in the window. I have been here three days and I have just noticed it. Hunith has been giving me worried glances for days, after I thought I saw her fall with the babe in her hands, thought I saw him crashing to the floor - then nothing, as if time had skipped. Now I see the knot and wonder.
My mother had that same knot. Intricate and somehow made with love, feathers woven in and smelling of summer. I checked. It smells exactly the same way - except fresher.
Summer is not for another month. The nights are still chilled.
I must leave this place. I cannot stay here. Uther kills my kind and if not for a promise made to see the young Prince safely to adulthood... I will go back to the Island and make plans. These thoughts are pointless. I leave them behind. And this."
As Morgana flipped the page, a knot fell out, exactly as described. She lifted it out and held it to the light. There was nothing really magical about it, nothing she could sense - but she brought it to her face and it smelled like summer. "Merlin," she said slowly. "I think you need to read the last bit of this journal."
"Yeah?" Merlin said, sounding distracted. "You need to read this one. Mordred is your cousin - and Arthur's. And he... the knot she describes your aunt having is a bit like - "
"This?" she suggested and he looked up. His eyes caught on it and widened to slim blue rings. "Nimueh's mother had one. I imagine this was hers."
Merlin stared at it, the silence stretching - and then abruptly he stood, beginning to pace. "This can't be true. She wouldn't - Nimueh wouldn't have come back here and left things."
"Why not?" Morgana challenged. "Where safer once she knew it had been sealed off? She and Igraine probably spent days in here when she was alive."
"Morgana," Merlin said desperately. "How could my mother and Nimueh's have the same knot? My mother - she said it was from my father. All she would ever say. And Mordred's mother - it's not possible. The years alone - "
"The same likelihood that Mordred is the son of my aunt who disappeared fourteen years ago I suspect," Morgana said with false cheer. "Did Nimueh orchestrate that birth too?"
"No," Merlin croaked. "She was just there for it. She - helped birth him. She could hear his cries in her head. She even wrote - she knew he could be Arthur's downfall and by then, she welcomed it. She handed him to the druids and gave him his name. She named him."
"Not her, not really," Morgana murmured. "The old magic. It used her... shared blood to him and to you. I imagine she was supposed to take you away and give you to the druids or raise you herself."
"Shared blood," Merlin said, and shook his head. "No. No, I won't - I killed her. She could not have - I didn't kill my..."
Sister, hung in the air and Morgana knew there really wasn't a way to tell, and he was right, no human, mortal man could have fathered all three of them... but Nimueh had vivid blue eyes and dark hair. So did Morgana herself and perhaps Viviane, it wasn't necessarily a family trait but - Mordred, Merlin, and Nimueh all were special. Powerful. Morgana had power, she was a Seer - but not like that.
"Nimueh was my mother's godmother," she said, pieces falling into place. "Gods, Merlin - who told her to do that? Someone must have. Even the pull of destiny can't be that strong. We fought it."
She realized what he was thinking as he stiffened, his eyes burning with anger. It wasn't hard - he had talked, anger warring with guilt and uncertainty, about the lies, about the dragon pushing and manipulating him where it wanted. Not, perhaps as well as the druids had been with Mordred, due to their own visions, but - she felt slightly appalled at her own kind and the efforts seers and prophets went to, arranging things to their liking.
But then - was she any better?
"Don't jump to any conclusions," she warned as his eyes sparked gold, things in the room trembling. "We should - get to the others. Out of this room."
"Yeah, who knows what we'll find in the other books," Merlin said bitterly. She glanced around at the high shelves and shuddered. There could be other journals - and if one was Igraine's instead of Nimueh's, she didn't want to see any more. Perhaps Arthur would, but not her - she had learned enough she needed to forget.
She stood slowly and pushed the journal away from herself. If she just stepped out of the room and had some time to breathe she was sure it would all make sense - and not be the conclusions she was coming to in her head.
Merlin wasn't quite as ready to leave them as that, it seemed. He snatched both journals up as he followed her out of the room. She stared, puzzled at the outer door of the chambers. She didn't remember closing it - and certainly not locking it. There was a heavy pounding on the door that should have been impossible to miss from inside the connected library. Yet even now it seemed muffled while the door shook with the blows being pounded upon it. She looked at Merlin, whose eyes still glittered gold on the edge of using magic. "Did you do this?"
"No," was all he said and the gold flared heavy in his eyes before fading to blue as the door crashed open. "But I did that."
Four frightened faces looked at them from where the door had thundered open and Morgana winced as Merlin held a hand to his head, Mordred's frightened voice babbling nonsense into their minds. She couldn't catch more than a few words of it and it was Merlin who said a bit desperately, "Mordred, please. I can't even think."
"You don't do that normally," Arthur muttered, but it was half-hearted at best as he studied them, eyes sweeping over their pale, ashen faces. "Why couldn't we get into the room?"
"I'm not sure," Morgana said, trying to put the best explanation forward even while Mordred's mental voice abruptly cut off. "If I had to guess - if Mordred had been alone he would have been let in. He has magic and... the necessary blood connections."
"Blood connections?" Mordred asked, brow crinkling as he stared at them. "I never knew my parents."
"Nimueh did," Merlin said, his voice flat and hands clenched around the journals. "But she apparently knew everyone's parents so I guess that makes sense."
Morgana cast Merlin a concerned look, but couldn't imagine the turmoil his mind was in. She after all, had perhaps gained a cousin. He had learned he had likely killed his sister, gained a brother, and learned his lover was only alive because Nimueh had been arrogant enough to believe she could bend the old ways to her will. She reached out a hand toward him, containing a flinch when he shied away. "Merlin - "
He shook his head rapidly, not looking at her or anyone - just clutching those journals to his chest. She swallowed her objection and nodded once, jerkily, to indicate she understood before looking into Arthur's eyes. "We should... discuss this elsewhere."
Arthur made an effort to break contact with her to look around the room, finally recognizing what it was. He nodded shortly and backed from the room - waiting by the entrance as the others streamed by. She walked by and turned her head to see his face crease with worry as he reached for Merlin. She held her breath but despite tensing up at the touch, Merlin leaned toward Arthur, letting him draw him closer.
She faced front, looking away as their lips met in a silent comfort.
----
Merlin hadn't spoken the entire time. The journals had been passed around and yes, Arthur was horrified and shocked and all that - but Merlin hadn't spoken, not since they left that empty dead place near the top of the castle that caught the morning sun every day for the past two decades and more, empty of anything living except one crazy sorceress who apparently randomly popped in and added spells and journals and led them down a path of madness.
Except it wasn't. A path of madness. He wasn't even sure what to think about the circumstances of his birth - he had always regretted, deep inside, that he had never met his mother. Now he knew he never could have - for him to live, she had to die and the price for his birth was paid in the blood of magic.
All of them sat in Arthur's chambers - he hadn't yet been moved to the King's chambers and for that he was glad. It was more comfortably, to watch as Mordred finished reading and Gwen, in the corner, talked quietly with Lancelot and Morgana, sending anxious looks at Merlin.
He leaned back in his chair and watched Merlin stare out the window blindly. His eyes had always been blue except when he was using magic - but there was no magic that Arthur could see, yet Merlin's eyes were simmering on the edge of gold, not quite the bright burn of a spell but as if on the edge of one, the magic rolling and demanding beneath his skin. It shivered through the air.
Once, Arthur had thought Morgana needed grounding to the earth sometimes. When the worst of her dreams - her visions, he knew now - were on her, she had seemed half-mad with them, wild-eyed. Even at her best before leaving Camelot there had always been something haunted in her eyes. Now, for the first time, he was wondering if it was Merlin who needed grounding.
Mordred closed the journal slowly and Merlin's gaze flew to him. It was the second journal, a dark red cover that looked out of place in Mordred's pale hands. Arthur itched to take it from him. There had been so much more than just Mordred's birth in there - records of horrors Nimueh had committed, and that Uther had committed that she had known about. Ravings of the power of the island, of waiting.
Mordred folded his hands over the journal and looked at Merlin, then at the knot in the middle of the table. "I had one of those, too."
Merlin still didn't say anything, the gold fading from his eyes as he watched Mordred and looked uncertain, hesitant - as if now he just didn't know how to respond. Mordred had no such problems. "It could be worse. At least she didn't keep us."
"The old religion wanted her too," Morgana said slowly. "I think it's part of what fueled her hate. It was angry that she wouldn't listen."
Merlin frowned, looking at her. "How do you know?"
"I just do," Morgana said simply, leaving it at that. Arthur wanted more than that as well, but he wasn't going to push.
"Is there any way to confirm any of this?" Arthur asked, watching the three sorcerers in the room. "Some magic you can do?"
"Maybe," Merlin answered distantly. "I've never heard of such a spell."
"Neither have I," Mordred added, which was more of a surprise. Merlin had only had his book and six months with the druids for magical experience outside himself. Mordred had lived with the druids all his life and had the ear for gossip on magic.
Gwen cleared her throat loudly and hesitated as they all looked at her. Arthur tried to look encouraging and not slide his gaze back to Merlin who was still too quiet and still. "Um... What about Gaius? At least for... the first journal? He could probably confirm that much and if that is all true then..."
"Good idea, Gwen," Arthur said approvingly, and stood. He glanced around the room and saw Mordred shifting as if to get up. The boy had become the automatic messenger of the group, being the youngest and the least likely of them to be stared at for running about as no one really knew him. Arthur waved him down and leaned out into the hall, unsurprised to see a servant hovering nearby he could give orders to.
As the girl ran off to get Gaius he turned back into the room and studied them. Not for the first time, he felt a prickling of hastily suppressed jealousy by the way Lancelot, Mordred, and Morgana seemed to speak to each other with just looks and anxious glances at Merlin. Then Lancelot turned earnest pleading eyes on him and he straightened in surprise as the knight's eyes flicked to Merlin and then him again, asking him to do something.
He inclined his head in response, indicating his acknowledgement, and slipped closer to where Merlin had gone back to staring out the window. His hand on Merlin's shoulder caused the warlock to start and something crashed to the ground behind them as Merlin's eyes flared into gold. Arthur didn't even look. "Do I have to order you to talk about it?"
"I don't follow orders well," Merlin replied, his voice hollow. "Nimueh said it all."
"Not every day you find out you have a sister," Arthur said, forcing his voice to sound cheery and gently squeezing Merlin's shoulder as he tensed. "Or a brother."
"Or that you killed your sister," Merlin said harshly and the magic was almost solid for a moment. Arthur didn't know how he had never noticed it before, the sharp taste of it, the heavy and heady power that thrummed in Merlin's veins. Even since coming back he had never noticed this, the power laying in the air, on them.
"Do you regret it?" he asked carefully, and held back his own emotions as he waited for an answer.
"No," Merlin answered with a heavy sigh. Something in Arthur's chest eased and Merlin's expression loosened into a ghost of a smile. "Not any of it. Don't be a fool."
"I'll leave that to you," he said lightly, and didn't care that the other four were in the room as he leaned forward, just a light brush of his lips. He was smirking smugly when he leaned back because Merlin had given a sigh that sounded like he was about to swoon at the touch of Arthur's lips. "You great girl."
"I'm going to turn you into a frog," Merlin muttered, leaning his forehead against Arthur's. "It will be the ugliest and fattest frog the world has ever seen."
Arthur scoffed and wound his other arm around Merlin. "Don't lie. You know any animal I am will be the most gorgeous of its kind."
Everything wasn't all right - but Merlin was looking at him, with his eyes blue and not burning at the edge of gold which was all he could really ask for. He trailed the hand on Merlin's shoulder down to his wrist, meaning to lace their hands together because he too was apparently turning into a pansy, but he stopped thoughtfully, running his fingers across Merlin's hand and the diagonal scar there. "Where did this come from?"
Merlin jerked back an inch as if surprised and then looked confusedly about, eyes going to Mordred, then Morgana, and then, unsurprisingly, Lancelot. "Did no one tell you?"
"I thought we were waiting." Morgana sounded vaguely embarrassed.
"It'll do as a distraction," Lancelot said, eyes flicking to the door. "While we wait."
"Does this have to do with why the four of you always know where each other are?" Gwen piped up, looking at them with wide, curious eyes. "I had wondered."
"As had I," Arthur murmured to Merlin, pulling him gently to a chair before Arthur himself went to sit, turning his chair so he could spot everyone standing and sitting around the room. "So. Explain."
The four of them glanced t each other, their expressions meaning nothing to Arthur until Lancelot and Mordred shrugged and Merlin waved at Morgana. "I think you should start - I can pick up at the spell."
Morgana straightened up where she sat on one of his many chests and looked thoughtfully down at her hands, her fingers running along a scar on one palm that Arthur suddenly felt sure matched Merlin's. "My visions were slowly getting worse. I was seeing farther, but they hit hard, and sometimes there would be so many of them they would jumble up. I would see and hear echoes of things in my visions, and answer questions before people had asked. Not always. But sometimes there would be whole days or weeks I was like that. I couldn't live with that."
"So I found a spell," Merlin said quietly. "It was hard - and it was more a rumor of a spell than anything. But there have been Seers before that had this problem, when their abilities were too strong and went untrained for too long. So we... grounded her. With magic. Blood magic. We bound ourselves to each other."
"It required so many things," Mordred continued quietly into the pause as Arthur stared at Merlin, hands tight on the arm of his chair. "Otherwise the magic wouldn't have worked. Trust - trust to keep each other safe. And to share our lives... that we were willing to spend the rest of our lives near each other."
"It was a test of the truest friendship," Lancelot said, lifting his head proudly. "An honor to be allowed to be part of the protection. It was a sharing of what we are."
"And it worked," Morgana said, sounding so grateful Arthur felt guilty for his flaring jealousy - the same jealousy he could see in Gwen's down turned eyes. "Even if it did more than we expected. It was... I'm not sure how to explain how it changed, but it was like there was a buffer between me and the dreams, something that kept me in the present. Later, we found other spells to help keep my visions clear."
"So you're, what, married to each other?" There was a dangerous edge to Arthur's voice and he didn't look at Merlin, just glared at Morgana and Lancelot. "Magically married."
"No," Four voices said at once, shudders through Merlin's voice as he added, "Arthur, Mordred is a part of this. It's not marriage more like - like - "
"Family," Mordred said, ducking his head to look up out of shy eyes. "Like I had a family."
"Trust," Morgana added, smiling at Lancelot especially. "We had it already - but now there could be no doubts that if I needed something, I could ask it. Anything of them."
"A purpose," Lancelot said, his smile shy. "I - They needed someone who wasn't magical to take care of them, sire."
"He's right," Merlin said, and he was flushing when Arthur slowly looked over. "We ah, got caught up a lot before Lancelot joined us. We worried him sick once before the bond when we wouldn't wake up and he didn't know if he should or not."
"Now I always will know," Lancelot said and - somehow it was just as bad as if they were lovers (as improbable as he would have realized that to be if he had been thinking) because he would never have that.
"I wish you had waited for this." Morgana was disgruntled, crossing her arms. "We can't possibly add you two to the bond right now. It will be another month before some of the plants for it are even grown."
"No it won't," Merlin said as Arthur stared at her, stunned. "I still have enough dried ones. I, um, may have made enough for them back then. Just in case."
Arthur, mutely, had to stare at him now and Merlin quickly added, "It's not that I was assuming you or Gwen would want to be a part of it. But I thought - I mean, if you wanted to, the option would be there."
"You can really just - add me in?" Gwen asked, shyly eager. "It won't - disrupt anything?"
"You've always been ours," Morgana said, quite calm as she smiled in pure possession at Gwen. "Even if Merlin refuses to put it in those terms, its true. It wouldn't hurt a thing - better yet we would be whole."
"All the requirements are there. We trust you," Mordred said frankly, surprising Arthur because he had found himself liking the child and could see his worth and already had let him in where few others could be - but he hadn't expected that the boy felt the same way. Mordred grinned at him, as if sensing his thoughts. "There's another benefit as well. I can only talk to those magical usually - but I can talk to Lancelot sometimes too with this."
"Useful," Arthur mused, and the amused expression on the boy's face said he wasn't terribly surprised. He glanced over at Merlin, who was watching him with an uncertain trepidation that made Arthur roll his eyes. "Stop looking at me like I'm going to break your heart you idiot sorcerer. Of course I'll be joining this. I have to make sure you four aren't abusing what could be an important advantage."
Merlin slumped in relief, flashing him a grin. "I'm sure that's what you're worried about."
Arthur puffed up his chest, ready for another reply - and then a knock came on the door and all laughter died as Gaius called, "Sire? You asked for me?"
Sobering quickly, Arthur glanced at the others and straightened in his chair. It was time to know the truth. "Come in."
The door opened, and Gaius walked in. His eyes fell on the earlier journal, green in color, and his face paled. Arthur grew cold, his face expressionless and knew. He didn't even need to ask all the questions in his head.
He did anyway.
----
Morgana shifted in her seat, smirking at a passing lord that boggled at her in a tunic and trousers. She had been surprised but terribly grateful when Arthur had ordered her not to wear a dress ever again unless she truly wanted to - not even for feasts. Not even for his coronation.
So she wasn't. It was a blast to see the nobles eyes bug out - except, she was surprised to see, for a few who seemed either amused, unsurprised, or even proud. The ladies of the court mostly looked disgusted - but one older one looked supremely envious and a couple of younger unmarried ones (and one married one) looked... speculative. Morgana smiled especially at them, true, warm smiles.
Beside her, Merlin was dressed in a fine blue tunic, but the cloak he had on now was the finest of reds, and the Pendragon symbol was stitched onto it in gold, the dragon shimmering where Merlin had carefully hung the cloak off his chair. It wasn't proper procedure - but Arthur had insisted on showing them off. All of them. Mordred was in blue as well, a couple of shades lighter than Merlin's, and there was a small ring on his hand now, unnoticed by all but a few. Arthur had already signed Mordred as heir to the land that had once been Viviane's dowry and had been added to Morgana's as the last female of that line - she had been only too glad to give it to Mordred.
The ring had been Viviane's, and Morgana wore a matching ring on her own hand that had been her mother's. Both had been found in the small chamber attached to Igraine's as they had cleaned it out. All six of them now lived on that floor, determined to fill it with happiness and their own magic. Beneath his shirt, Arthur wore the last of three rings, having found it on his own private search of his mother's things, left untouched for more than two decades.
Merlin's elbow dug into her ribs - also not protocol, and she was looking forward to watching the court had a fit at their behavior with each other - as Arthur stood up. "Stop teasing the nobility and watch."
"I am nobility," Morgana huffed but leaned forward keenly. After so many pouring speeches, some dancing, and getting to watch Mordred and Lancelot stand up and move around while they had to sit and wait - it had been excruciating. Gwen had been no help as she kept making aborted movements to try and serve something of her own. Merlin at least just did it, not even noticing Arthur's groans of despair.
"My people," Arthur began, the pride in his voice unmistakable. "a great disservice has been done to Camelot for many years bringing about an absence of something that is fundamental in nature and all around us. In fear, we have strived to drive it out and caused only greater harm to the land. Today, I will end this strife."
The court paused, eyes wide, only a few having any idea what was about to happen. All of Arthur's knights, down to a man, shifted their hands to their swords, eyes on the most likely nobles to cause trouble. Morgana had a hand on her sword and another palm up as she mouthed a spell to herself.
"From this day forth, magic is no longer banned in Camelot," Arthur's voice rang out into the stunned room. "It will be treated as any other study, and a person using magic to commit a crime given the same sentence as any other criminal - and the same trial. Magic is welcome in Camelot and in order to facilitate magic's return, I introduce your Court Sorcerer, Lord Merlin of Ealdor."
Morgana nearly choked on the wine she had been sipping to hide her grin. It was the "of Ealdor" that was the surprising part. Ealdor was out of their territory - and one couldn't be a lord of a territory not in their control. She glanced at Merlin, who looked equally stunned. Arthur wasn't done. "As Camelot has seen many troubles caused by magic of late, it only is common sense to have magicians protecting us and a certain brand of protectors willing to help and protect them."
Arthur paused a dramatic moment and Morgana suddenly felt suspicious, locking eyes with Gwen on the other side of Arthur. It had been an odd arrangement - her and Merlin on one side, Gwen and Lancelot and Mordred on the other. She had a feeling now that it meant something more. Arthur smirked at them, the smug bastard. "Being one of these protectors will be one of the highest honors. It shows loyalty and skill, whether it be with magic, swords, or both. They shall be the highest magical authority in land except for Lord Merlin and myself and be the first line of defense where magic is used in battle. Some will be from Camelot's own knights - others from the sorcerers I hope will gather in court. But the first of these will be those who have already proved themselves in the face of powerful magic."
He wouldn't. Morgana swallowed, suddenly understanding why Arthur was convinced that her wearing trousers would be a secondary concern when people saw her, why he was sure her authority would not be questioned. The court was frozen as Arthur gestured first to her, and then slowly on. "The Lady Morgana le Fay, Seer, Lady Guinevere the Brave, Sir Lancelot du Lac, and young Squire Mordred, I name you protectors of this land and accord you with the authority of my most prominent advisors. Any one who wishes to join this elite band of our kingdom must first pass the tests they set forth."
Silence reigned as Arthur stopped speaking at right when it was getting to the point where it seemed like it would suffocate them, Arthur sat and magnanimously said, "You may speak."
As if they actually had been waiting for his permission, the hall erupted into noise, protests and cheers alike rising above the crowd. Somewhere in the crowd, she heard a goblet drop to the floor and by the fact it came from Mordred's general direction, she was quite sure it had been him, forgetting in his shock to hold it. Her own goblet was precariously tipped forward as she stared at Arthur, who leaned back in his chair and said in a low aside to Merlin, "So, when do you want me to acquire Ealdor?"
"Oh, gods," Merlin said, his voice sounding strangled. "You're insane. ...And brilliant."
She put her goblet down carefully and turned her head to watch Arthur lean forward into Merlin's personal space in full view of the noisy court and purr, "Do you think it would be terrible of me to leave my own coronation early? I have something else in mind for celebrating."
Merlin snorted his laughter into a goblet of hopefully watered down wine (she didn't want to deal with a drunk Merlin who would no longer be scared of punishment for using magic) and answered, "Oh, no. You made this mess. You can deal with it."
Arthur leaned back pouting and Morgana remembered just over a month ago when Merlin had been insisting he and Arthur shouldn't do anything because Arthur needed a queen. Smugly, she knew she had been right. There would be no queen, not for Arthur.
She wasn't too sure about having children herself. Her eyes fell on a stunned Mordred who was being carefully guarded by two knights as he got over his shock. Her lips curled up. It wouldn't be too hard to designate him heir if they needed it to stay in the blood. Mordred was growing up handsome - he would start to fill out in the next few years and Morgana was sure he would rival Arthur for skill in tournaments.
Maybe everything wouldn't be perfect and some things would have to be secret, but she could see the kingdom they would have. It would be green and healthy, and growing. Sometimes through war - but sometimes they would capitulate willing, border barons eager to join a land full of fair justice, peasant revolting and moving, the kingdoms that tolerated magic being allies and eventually lesser kings.
For a moment the room faded and she could see Arthur, High King of Albion. Other Kings would bow to him. All of them, eventually. The druids would rise - but they would be ready, Merlin's protection written in blood. She could see the knights, aging and aged - but not them. Their lives spanned on past what she could see, past what anyone could see as the bond they had made in blood tightened, pulling Arthur, Guinevere, and Lancelot to their own, longer life spans.
Morgana leaned forward, smirking at an outraged courtier. "This wasn't what Nimueh imagined, what we're going to be."
"No," Merlin agreed, the smile he gifted her with still a bit pained at the name, as she thought it might always be. "It's not what any of them imagined. This is our path, not theirs. They can all rot."
At his words, deep below the castle, a dragon cried out in despair. If any above heard him, they were no longer listening.
First Part | Previous Part
Lancelot shifted by her side and she smiled over at him, and at Gwen on his other side. In public, Gwen sometimes slid her hand over Lancelot's - for now, that was something Morgana dared not do. They were still fighting, choosing what they could push and what they couldn't. As nobles, she and Arthur were used to having to hide parts of their lives... but it still ached that they might not be able to publicly acknowledge those important to them. Certainly she and Gwen and Lancelot hadn't gotten to the point Arthur and Merlin were at quite yet - but they would.
Perhaps then they could find time to explain the connection between the four of them that so far left Arthur and Gwen out... and then they could bring them into it. She leaned slightly closer to Lancelot, not daring to put her head on his shoulder but aching to do it, and to pull Gwen closer.
She had a hand out, ready to touch or do something similarly inappropriate that would make people stare in disapproval when Arthur marched up to them, Mordred trailing after him, and announced, "Merlin is nowhere to be found."
Irritated, she arched a brow up at him and glanced to Merlin and Arthur and back again. "Why is this my problem?"
"He won't tell me where he is," Arthur growled, eyes sparking with anger, fire behind his eyes. Morgana felt a cold curl of worry in her belly and she glanced at Mordred in concern.
What she received back was not at all what she expected, his hands clenched behind his back and his mind-voice carefully even. 'I cannot sense Emrys. I do not know why.'
She stared for a moment, wondering what he meant - because Merlin was a buzz in the back of her mind, she could sense him clearly. Mordred wasn't lying - it was much harder to lie mind-to-mind, and she kept herself calm, not wanting to let herself think about trust and Mordred and why Merlin would block himself from the youth that had once been Arthur's doom. Carefully, not evening knowing what she wanted the answer to be, she asked, "Lancelot? Can you sense Merlin?"
The man paused as she looked at him, his mouth opening for the automatic response - and then closing, his eyes wide and stunned. "No. I can't."
Some tension bled out of Merlin and seemed to go into Arthur. Before he could work himself up or send knights on patrols she said, "I can. I don't think - there's no reason for him to deliberately block them and not me. Follow.
She was off without another word, trying not to contemplate if Merlin had been specifically blocking the other two. He might be angry with her if he had been, but he had said nothing - in fact the last conversation they'd had he had made vague allusions to one of the top floors of the castle, a blocked off wing. As they had all been drunk with some early opened ale (it was for Arthur, why should they not use it early?) she couldn't be quite sure of last night's memories.
Yet he was up, and to the east. She knew, suddenly, what wing he had been talking about, where he was, and she stopped halfway up the stairs, blinking upward. "Oh," she said in realization, softly muttered to the wall. She looked back at Arthur and wondered if he even knew.
He looked back, any worry or concern masked under glaring impatience. "Stop dawdling, Morgana."
She narrowed her eyes, but the concern she felt would not be waylaid by annoyance, not this time. "He's in the east wing above. It used to be the royal wing."
Even Mordred straightened up at that, understanding from whatever she and Merlin had let drop that Uther's wife, Queen Igraine, had lived in that wing, on that floor, and that Uther had gone mad with grief. Blinded to anything but the bad in magic. The stories were confusing - she had died because of magic, and on the night of Arthur's birth. That was all that was clear, all that had ever been clear and she had never stopped to wonder before what that might mean.
"Go on," Arthur prompted, looking so unconcerned it had to be faked. "Let's see what our favorite warlock has gotten himself into this time."
Watching him carefully, she saw no hesitation, not even a twitch - only annoyance and an edge of anger as she continued to stand there. Before anything could come of it, she turned without warning and went up the stairs, her steps fast and light as the door approached closer and closer. It wasn't sealed like it should have been, locked and boarded up. The boards sat to one side, the door stood wide open. The door ill-fit the entry way, like it had been forced onto it. It was likely, Morgana thought, that once the doorway had no door, just like every other archway of the castle that didn't contain a room.
Stepping through it, she found herself in a long hallway, with even a few branches off of it. She took a few steps forward and something buzzed through her mind. The others slipped by her, their words meaning nothing and seeming to slide off of her, as did their eyes. Until Mordred stepped through and cried out, stumbling back and almost falling down the deadly stairs. Arthur snatched him back, arm coming around the boy to clutch him close as Mordred's knees gave out, still crying out and hands scrabbling at his head. "The dead - their thoughts - "
"They left their magic here," Morgana said, feeling it now. "A more immortal memory than even Uther could get rid of. There were many here. I think - I think the wing was filled with them. Sorcerers. I don't understand."
The last she uttered softly, her brow creasing as she tried to see the past instead of the future for once but her eyes refused to turn there, only catching brief feelings and knowledge before it was gone, leaving her bereft and Mordred shaking, trembling in Arthur's arms but denying the encouragement toward the stairs. "No, it's gone now - it was... a warning. To any of their kind that came. I could hear them, but they had so little time and were half mad with fear... it didn't work so well. I could feel their screams as they died. He... he and the knights there..."
"Don't," Gwen said, her lips trembling as she stepped forward, hugging the boy to her, tugging him from Arthur's arms. "We get it. You don't need to say it."
"Merlin is up here?" Arthur asked, looking vaguely sickened. "Can't he feel - "
"Yes, he is. I can still feel him," Morgana said, her eyes twisting to the rooms about them. "We should - search."
She hadn't meant to say that. She had meant they should follow again - she knew exactly where he was. But something else in her hissed at her to be silent - something important was here. As they started searching the rooms she walked past, all of them engrossed in looking at the rooms that were so different, held so much history. Or maybe the magic made them look away.
The door loomed in front of her after two turns of the hall and she knew what it was. The dragon tapestry stood across from it, and the door itself seemed special, the room inside larger. It opened with a push of her hand, not even entirely closed. She looked blankly at the bed inside, its sheets clean and white even though they must have been blood splattered the last time someone slept there - but, no, he hadn't been born here. She had been so weak - they had taken her elsewhere.
Then Uther had come back, and slaughtered the sorcerers that had lived in the wing. Except Morgana didn't know why. Hand still on the door, she shifted and her gaze caught on a connecting door. It was afar, and she could make out books and books, a miniature library of its own... a library nearly as large as their actual one. Amazed, she found herself stepping inside - and the door squeaked open to show Merlin, pale faced and wide-eyed, gaze glued to the book in front of him. "Merlin?"
"Morgana," he said dully. "Did you know?"
"Know what?" she asked, stepping closer, concerned and a little fearful by the absence of any life in Merlin's gaze. "What should I know?"
"Nimueh was Court Sorcerer." Merlin said flatly and it was so absurd, Morgana wanted to laugh - but Merlin didn't give her the chance, continuing in that same horrible tone devoid of anything. "Queen Igraine couldn't produce an heir. Or maybe it was Uther - who knows. Uther had to have an heir, and Igraine was not as opposed to magic - she and Nimueh were friends. In fact, Nimueh was apparently the godmother of Igraine, her twin Morgause, and her younger sister Viviane."
"Was she?" Morgana asked, cautiously slipping into the chair across from him and no longer paying attention to the shelves of books lining the walls, surrounding them on every side. "What does - Nimueh have to do with Igraine? Did she curse her?"
Merlin barked a short hard laugh, then pressed a horrified hand to his mouth, looking at her with sad eyes. He slowly dropped his hand back to the book. "She was also priestess of the Isle of the Blessed, you know. She popped back to it when someone came as a supplicant... Igraine knew her power. Had told Uther. And when Uther went to magic for what medicine had failed to give him - neither woman objected."
The bottom dropped out of her stomach, her heart pounding in a sickening manner. "No. They didn't - There's a balance. They had to know."
"Here." He thrust the book at her - which was, she now knew, some kind of journal. With trembling fingers she opened it.
"My name is Nimueh. My father is unknown, my mother long dead. Today, I have am no longer just Priestess to the Isle of the Blessed, but Court Sorcerer of Camelot, where prophecy says the Once and Future King will be born within a century's time - from the Pendragon line. I am confident that I can help this come to pass and protect the family. Uther distrusts magic, but I can make him laugh and I have found a friend in the King. For once there is someone who has a power nearly as absolute as my own. It is a pleasure to see Igraine grown into womanhood. I feel I have come home."
Morgana paused, swallowed, and flipped through the pages, scanning. Nimueh had been a vibrant, strong woman, confident in her own power and ambitions. She knew she could have anything she wanted if she just tried hard enough, and magic could solve nearly all of her problems. The pages described a Camelot where her magic was common place, her chambers cleaning themselves (no maid would come near her, which Morgana felt Nimueh had probably been hurt at, but never admitted) and the land green and healthy.
What made her tremble was the affection in the words for Igraine - and Morgause, her twin. Morgana's mother. She had visited her often, and had mused there must be magic in the blood to have one sister blond as wheat and the other dark as night, but both with the same sweet and slightly wicked personality - though Igraine, surprisingly, had been the one more wicked and up for pranks as a child while Morgana's own mother had grown to be more staid.
Viviane was mentioned little, except that she was a quiet, thoughtful child of nearly a decade of difference with her older sisters.
The tone grew more serious as the dates shifted, Nimueh worried about Igraine, who wanted a child so badly, and Uther, who needed a heir to establish his line successfully. Igraine, as the older sister and first married, had been given away as bride to the man she loved and her father approved of. Respect had been won in battle, kingship in bed. It would be sealed with a child - and then Morgause married, and things became more... desperate.
"If Morgause has an heir first - and the gods know she and her husband are so sweet in love they can't even see, so it shan't be long - it could cause problems for the kingdom. Uther has proposed to be today... I should not contemplate it. There is always a price for these things... but I am Priestess. I am powerful. I am more powerful than any that has come before me. I will do this for them. They are willing to pay the price - I will make the balance accept a life of lesser power for once, of lesser emotion. Uther and Igraine will love there son only as much as they do each other - there is no emotional connection that would be as great. As for the child... I have a sense there is no magical power besides myself that would do as a sacrifice, and I will not ask my brothers and sisters to lay down their lives for him. No - perhaps many lives can do. A slew of bandits, a cell full of murderers.
Not them. I will turn the old magic away. I will give them their heir, the king the land is waiting for.
I shall give them a son."
"No, they couldn't have," Morgana breathed but knew it was true all the same. She looked up to find Merlin had another journal in his hands and was looking at her, swallowing slowly. There was something in his eyes that was asking a question, and before he could utter it she quickly looked down, flipping pages.
"I did not mean to. I tried to turn the magic away. He did not believe me. He has... I can feel them. Each of their deaths, I can feel them just as I felt hers. Oh, gods - is this what the price is for the king we wait for? Not just of mother, of emotional balance, but of power? He has slaughtered them, the sorcerers of the court. I fled to Morgause - but she turned me away, her hand on her burgeoning belly and I understand. Safety - they could not be safe if I was here.
Instead I have found myself traveling with a woman escaping Camelot in the midst of the purges. She is not magic herself - not truly. She knows a few charms and that would perhaps be enough for Uther to condemn her. But she is pregnant and worried. I can feel the child's life, despite being only a month in her belly. I don't even know how she knows.
If I had to guess, I would say the babe was conceived the same night the prince was born."
Morgana paused, looking up at Merlin, wondering if perhaps that was all there was, the beginning of Nimueh's descent into terror and madness. "Now she's talking about after - how much did you read?"
"I didn't skim like you're doing," Merlin said vaguely. "I read up to about there - then it was... I skipped past it. I didn't... need to read the rest of that one. She talks about Viviane - you and Arthur's aunt I suppose - in this one a little. And Tristan, their half-brother from the wrong side of the sheets. There's... connections in everything. I think the old magic sort of... guided her places, even then."
Morgana nodded, something in her mind clicking. Guiding her - then maybe the woman was important. She skipped a few more pages, disappointed as Nimueh left the woman in a small village just outside Camelot's borders called - She paused, read it again, looked back at Merlin and then down quickly before he looked up. She skimmed the pages quickly, watching the dates. Arthur had been born - then nine months later... No, barely eight, no wonder Merlin was scrawny even as a grown man.
"I don't know why I was drawn here, to help in this birthing. Despite it being early, it was easy. I did not even need to use magic. The child was a boy, and there is nothing odd about him as far as I can tell. Yet, the old magic seems... pleased. And I do feel like he is kin in some way. Perhaps it is one bastard to another. We are both fatherless - which is better than little Arthur and Morgana. It seems both twins were bound to die birthing their children."
"...There is a knot hanging in the window. I have been here three days and I have just noticed it. Hunith has been giving me worried glances for days, after I thought I saw her fall with the babe in her hands, thought I saw him crashing to the floor - then nothing, as if time had skipped. Now I see the knot and wonder.
My mother had that same knot. Intricate and somehow made with love, feathers woven in and smelling of summer. I checked. It smells exactly the same way - except fresher.
Summer is not for another month. The nights are still chilled.
I must leave this place. I cannot stay here. Uther kills my kind and if not for a promise made to see the young Prince safely to adulthood... I will go back to the Island and make plans. These thoughts are pointless. I leave them behind. And this."
As Morgana flipped the page, a knot fell out, exactly as described. She lifted it out and held it to the light. There was nothing really magical about it, nothing she could sense - but she brought it to her face and it smelled like summer. "Merlin," she said slowly. "I think you need to read the last bit of this journal."
"Yeah?" Merlin said, sounding distracted. "You need to read this one. Mordred is your cousin - and Arthur's. And he... the knot she describes your aunt having is a bit like - "
"This?" she suggested and he looked up. His eyes caught on it and widened to slim blue rings. "Nimueh's mother had one. I imagine this was hers."
Merlin stared at it, the silence stretching - and then abruptly he stood, beginning to pace. "This can't be true. She wouldn't - Nimueh wouldn't have come back here and left things."
"Why not?" Morgana challenged. "Where safer once she knew it had been sealed off? She and Igraine probably spent days in here when she was alive."
"Morgana," Merlin said desperately. "How could my mother and Nimueh's have the same knot? My mother - she said it was from my father. All she would ever say. And Mordred's mother - it's not possible. The years alone - "
"The same likelihood that Mordred is the son of my aunt who disappeared fourteen years ago I suspect," Morgana said with false cheer. "Did Nimueh orchestrate that birth too?"
"No," Merlin croaked. "She was just there for it. She - helped birth him. She could hear his cries in her head. She even wrote - she knew he could be Arthur's downfall and by then, she welcomed it. She handed him to the druids and gave him his name. She named him."
"Not her, not really," Morgana murmured. "The old magic. It used her... shared blood to him and to you. I imagine she was supposed to take you away and give you to the druids or raise you herself."
"Shared blood," Merlin said, and shook his head. "No. No, I won't - I killed her. She could not have - I didn't kill my..."
Sister, hung in the air and Morgana knew there really wasn't a way to tell, and he was right, no human, mortal man could have fathered all three of them... but Nimueh had vivid blue eyes and dark hair. So did Morgana herself and perhaps Viviane, it wasn't necessarily a family trait but - Mordred, Merlin, and Nimueh all were special. Powerful. Morgana had power, she was a Seer - but not like that.
"Nimueh was my mother's godmother," she said, pieces falling into place. "Gods, Merlin - who told her to do that? Someone must have. Even the pull of destiny can't be that strong. We fought it."
She realized what he was thinking as he stiffened, his eyes burning with anger. It wasn't hard - he had talked, anger warring with guilt and uncertainty, about the lies, about the dragon pushing and manipulating him where it wanted. Not, perhaps as well as the druids had been with Mordred, due to their own visions, but - she felt slightly appalled at her own kind and the efforts seers and prophets went to, arranging things to their liking.
But then - was she any better?
"Don't jump to any conclusions," she warned as his eyes sparked gold, things in the room trembling. "We should - get to the others. Out of this room."
"Yeah, who knows what we'll find in the other books," Merlin said bitterly. She glanced around at the high shelves and shuddered. There could be other journals - and if one was Igraine's instead of Nimueh's, she didn't want to see any more. Perhaps Arthur would, but not her - she had learned enough she needed to forget.
She stood slowly and pushed the journal away from herself. If she just stepped out of the room and had some time to breathe she was sure it would all make sense - and not be the conclusions she was coming to in her head.
Merlin wasn't quite as ready to leave them as that, it seemed. He snatched both journals up as he followed her out of the room. She stared, puzzled at the outer door of the chambers. She didn't remember closing it - and certainly not locking it. There was a heavy pounding on the door that should have been impossible to miss from inside the connected library. Yet even now it seemed muffled while the door shook with the blows being pounded upon it. She looked at Merlin, whose eyes still glittered gold on the edge of using magic. "Did you do this?"
"No," was all he said and the gold flared heavy in his eyes before fading to blue as the door crashed open. "But I did that."
Four frightened faces looked at them from where the door had thundered open and Morgana winced as Merlin held a hand to his head, Mordred's frightened voice babbling nonsense into their minds. She couldn't catch more than a few words of it and it was Merlin who said a bit desperately, "Mordred, please. I can't even think."
"You don't do that normally," Arthur muttered, but it was half-hearted at best as he studied them, eyes sweeping over their pale, ashen faces. "Why couldn't we get into the room?"
"I'm not sure," Morgana said, trying to put the best explanation forward even while Mordred's mental voice abruptly cut off. "If I had to guess - if Mordred had been alone he would have been let in. He has magic and... the necessary blood connections."
"Blood connections?" Mordred asked, brow crinkling as he stared at them. "I never knew my parents."
"Nimueh did," Merlin said, his voice flat and hands clenched around the journals. "But she apparently knew everyone's parents so I guess that makes sense."
Morgana cast Merlin a concerned look, but couldn't imagine the turmoil his mind was in. She after all, had perhaps gained a cousin. He had learned he had likely killed his sister, gained a brother, and learned his lover was only alive because Nimueh had been arrogant enough to believe she could bend the old ways to her will. She reached out a hand toward him, containing a flinch when he shied away. "Merlin - "
He shook his head rapidly, not looking at her or anyone - just clutching those journals to his chest. She swallowed her objection and nodded once, jerkily, to indicate she understood before looking into Arthur's eyes. "We should... discuss this elsewhere."
Arthur made an effort to break contact with her to look around the room, finally recognizing what it was. He nodded shortly and backed from the room - waiting by the entrance as the others streamed by. She walked by and turned her head to see his face crease with worry as he reached for Merlin. She held her breath but despite tensing up at the touch, Merlin leaned toward Arthur, letting him draw him closer.
She faced front, looking away as their lips met in a silent comfort.
----
Merlin hadn't spoken the entire time. The journals had been passed around and yes, Arthur was horrified and shocked and all that - but Merlin hadn't spoken, not since they left that empty dead place near the top of the castle that caught the morning sun every day for the past two decades and more, empty of anything living except one crazy sorceress who apparently randomly popped in and added spells and journals and led them down a path of madness.
Except it wasn't. A path of madness. He wasn't even sure what to think about the circumstances of his birth - he had always regretted, deep inside, that he had never met his mother. Now he knew he never could have - for him to live, she had to die and the price for his birth was paid in the blood of magic.
All of them sat in Arthur's chambers - he hadn't yet been moved to the King's chambers and for that he was glad. It was more comfortably, to watch as Mordred finished reading and Gwen, in the corner, talked quietly with Lancelot and Morgana, sending anxious looks at Merlin.
He leaned back in his chair and watched Merlin stare out the window blindly. His eyes had always been blue except when he was using magic - but there was no magic that Arthur could see, yet Merlin's eyes were simmering on the edge of gold, not quite the bright burn of a spell but as if on the edge of one, the magic rolling and demanding beneath his skin. It shivered through the air.
Once, Arthur had thought Morgana needed grounding to the earth sometimes. When the worst of her dreams - her visions, he knew now - were on her, she had seemed half-mad with them, wild-eyed. Even at her best before leaving Camelot there had always been something haunted in her eyes. Now, for the first time, he was wondering if it was Merlin who needed grounding.
Mordred closed the journal slowly and Merlin's gaze flew to him. It was the second journal, a dark red cover that looked out of place in Mordred's pale hands. Arthur itched to take it from him. There had been so much more than just Mordred's birth in there - records of horrors Nimueh had committed, and that Uther had committed that she had known about. Ravings of the power of the island, of waiting.
Mordred folded his hands over the journal and looked at Merlin, then at the knot in the middle of the table. "I had one of those, too."
Merlin still didn't say anything, the gold fading from his eyes as he watched Mordred and looked uncertain, hesitant - as if now he just didn't know how to respond. Mordred had no such problems. "It could be worse. At least she didn't keep us."
"The old religion wanted her too," Morgana said slowly. "I think it's part of what fueled her hate. It was angry that she wouldn't listen."
Merlin frowned, looking at her. "How do you know?"
"I just do," Morgana said simply, leaving it at that. Arthur wanted more than that as well, but he wasn't going to push.
"Is there any way to confirm any of this?" Arthur asked, watching the three sorcerers in the room. "Some magic you can do?"
"Maybe," Merlin answered distantly. "I've never heard of such a spell."
"Neither have I," Mordred added, which was more of a surprise. Merlin had only had his book and six months with the druids for magical experience outside himself. Mordred had lived with the druids all his life and had the ear for gossip on magic.
Gwen cleared her throat loudly and hesitated as they all looked at her. Arthur tried to look encouraging and not slide his gaze back to Merlin who was still too quiet and still. "Um... What about Gaius? At least for... the first journal? He could probably confirm that much and if that is all true then..."
"Good idea, Gwen," Arthur said approvingly, and stood. He glanced around the room and saw Mordred shifting as if to get up. The boy had become the automatic messenger of the group, being the youngest and the least likely of them to be stared at for running about as no one really knew him. Arthur waved him down and leaned out into the hall, unsurprised to see a servant hovering nearby he could give orders to.
As the girl ran off to get Gaius he turned back into the room and studied them. Not for the first time, he felt a prickling of hastily suppressed jealousy by the way Lancelot, Mordred, and Morgana seemed to speak to each other with just looks and anxious glances at Merlin. Then Lancelot turned earnest pleading eyes on him and he straightened in surprise as the knight's eyes flicked to Merlin and then him again, asking him to do something.
He inclined his head in response, indicating his acknowledgement, and slipped closer to where Merlin had gone back to staring out the window. His hand on Merlin's shoulder caused the warlock to start and something crashed to the ground behind them as Merlin's eyes flared into gold. Arthur didn't even look. "Do I have to order you to talk about it?"
"I don't follow orders well," Merlin replied, his voice hollow. "Nimueh said it all."
"Not every day you find out you have a sister," Arthur said, forcing his voice to sound cheery and gently squeezing Merlin's shoulder as he tensed. "Or a brother."
"Or that you killed your sister," Merlin said harshly and the magic was almost solid for a moment. Arthur didn't know how he had never noticed it before, the sharp taste of it, the heavy and heady power that thrummed in Merlin's veins. Even since coming back he had never noticed this, the power laying in the air, on them.
"Do you regret it?" he asked carefully, and held back his own emotions as he waited for an answer.
"No," Merlin answered with a heavy sigh. Something in Arthur's chest eased and Merlin's expression loosened into a ghost of a smile. "Not any of it. Don't be a fool."
"I'll leave that to you," he said lightly, and didn't care that the other four were in the room as he leaned forward, just a light brush of his lips. He was smirking smugly when he leaned back because Merlin had given a sigh that sounded like he was about to swoon at the touch of Arthur's lips. "You great girl."
"I'm going to turn you into a frog," Merlin muttered, leaning his forehead against Arthur's. "It will be the ugliest and fattest frog the world has ever seen."
Arthur scoffed and wound his other arm around Merlin. "Don't lie. You know any animal I am will be the most gorgeous of its kind."
Everything wasn't all right - but Merlin was looking at him, with his eyes blue and not burning at the edge of gold which was all he could really ask for. He trailed the hand on Merlin's shoulder down to his wrist, meaning to lace their hands together because he too was apparently turning into a pansy, but he stopped thoughtfully, running his fingers across Merlin's hand and the diagonal scar there. "Where did this come from?"
Merlin jerked back an inch as if surprised and then looked confusedly about, eyes going to Mordred, then Morgana, and then, unsurprisingly, Lancelot. "Did no one tell you?"
"I thought we were waiting." Morgana sounded vaguely embarrassed.
"It'll do as a distraction," Lancelot said, eyes flicking to the door. "While we wait."
"Does this have to do with why the four of you always know where each other are?" Gwen piped up, looking at them with wide, curious eyes. "I had wondered."
"As had I," Arthur murmured to Merlin, pulling him gently to a chair before Arthur himself went to sit, turning his chair so he could spot everyone standing and sitting around the room. "So. Explain."
The four of them glanced t each other, their expressions meaning nothing to Arthur until Lancelot and Mordred shrugged and Merlin waved at Morgana. "I think you should start - I can pick up at the spell."
Morgana straightened up where she sat on one of his many chests and looked thoughtfully down at her hands, her fingers running along a scar on one palm that Arthur suddenly felt sure matched Merlin's. "My visions were slowly getting worse. I was seeing farther, but they hit hard, and sometimes there would be so many of them they would jumble up. I would see and hear echoes of things in my visions, and answer questions before people had asked. Not always. But sometimes there would be whole days or weeks I was like that. I couldn't live with that."
"So I found a spell," Merlin said quietly. "It was hard - and it was more a rumor of a spell than anything. But there have been Seers before that had this problem, when their abilities were too strong and went untrained for too long. So we... grounded her. With magic. Blood magic. We bound ourselves to each other."
"It required so many things," Mordred continued quietly into the pause as Arthur stared at Merlin, hands tight on the arm of his chair. "Otherwise the magic wouldn't have worked. Trust - trust to keep each other safe. And to share our lives... that we were willing to spend the rest of our lives near each other."
"It was a test of the truest friendship," Lancelot said, lifting his head proudly. "An honor to be allowed to be part of the protection. It was a sharing of what we are."
"And it worked," Morgana said, sounding so grateful Arthur felt guilty for his flaring jealousy - the same jealousy he could see in Gwen's down turned eyes. "Even if it did more than we expected. It was... I'm not sure how to explain how it changed, but it was like there was a buffer between me and the dreams, something that kept me in the present. Later, we found other spells to help keep my visions clear."
"So you're, what, married to each other?" There was a dangerous edge to Arthur's voice and he didn't look at Merlin, just glared at Morgana and Lancelot. "Magically married."
"No," Four voices said at once, shudders through Merlin's voice as he added, "Arthur, Mordred is a part of this. It's not marriage more like - like - "
"Family," Mordred said, ducking his head to look up out of shy eyes. "Like I had a family."
"Trust," Morgana added, smiling at Lancelot especially. "We had it already - but now there could be no doubts that if I needed something, I could ask it. Anything of them."
"A purpose," Lancelot said, his smile shy. "I - They needed someone who wasn't magical to take care of them, sire."
"He's right," Merlin said, and he was flushing when Arthur slowly looked over. "We ah, got caught up a lot before Lancelot joined us. We worried him sick once before the bond when we wouldn't wake up and he didn't know if he should or not."
"Now I always will know," Lancelot said and - somehow it was just as bad as if they were lovers (as improbable as he would have realized that to be if he had been thinking) because he would never have that.
"I wish you had waited for this." Morgana was disgruntled, crossing her arms. "We can't possibly add you two to the bond right now. It will be another month before some of the plants for it are even grown."
"No it won't," Merlin said as Arthur stared at her, stunned. "I still have enough dried ones. I, um, may have made enough for them back then. Just in case."
Arthur, mutely, had to stare at him now and Merlin quickly added, "It's not that I was assuming you or Gwen would want to be a part of it. But I thought - I mean, if you wanted to, the option would be there."
"You can really just - add me in?" Gwen asked, shyly eager. "It won't - disrupt anything?"
"You've always been ours," Morgana said, quite calm as she smiled in pure possession at Gwen. "Even if Merlin refuses to put it in those terms, its true. It wouldn't hurt a thing - better yet we would be whole."
"All the requirements are there. We trust you," Mordred said frankly, surprising Arthur because he had found himself liking the child and could see his worth and already had let him in where few others could be - but he hadn't expected that the boy felt the same way. Mordred grinned at him, as if sensing his thoughts. "There's another benefit as well. I can only talk to those magical usually - but I can talk to Lancelot sometimes too with this."
"Useful," Arthur mused, and the amused expression on the boy's face said he wasn't terribly surprised. He glanced over at Merlin, who was watching him with an uncertain trepidation that made Arthur roll his eyes. "Stop looking at me like I'm going to break your heart you idiot sorcerer. Of course I'll be joining this. I have to make sure you four aren't abusing what could be an important advantage."
Merlin slumped in relief, flashing him a grin. "I'm sure that's what you're worried about."
Arthur puffed up his chest, ready for another reply - and then a knock came on the door and all laughter died as Gaius called, "Sire? You asked for me?"
Sobering quickly, Arthur glanced at the others and straightened in his chair. It was time to know the truth. "Come in."
The door opened, and Gaius walked in. His eyes fell on the earlier journal, green in color, and his face paled. Arthur grew cold, his face expressionless and knew. He didn't even need to ask all the questions in his head.
He did anyway.
----
Morgana shifted in her seat, smirking at a passing lord that boggled at her in a tunic and trousers. She had been surprised but terribly grateful when Arthur had ordered her not to wear a dress ever again unless she truly wanted to - not even for feasts. Not even for his coronation.
So she wasn't. It was a blast to see the nobles eyes bug out - except, she was surprised to see, for a few who seemed either amused, unsurprised, or even proud. The ladies of the court mostly looked disgusted - but one older one looked supremely envious and a couple of younger unmarried ones (and one married one) looked... speculative. Morgana smiled especially at them, true, warm smiles.
Beside her, Merlin was dressed in a fine blue tunic, but the cloak he had on now was the finest of reds, and the Pendragon symbol was stitched onto it in gold, the dragon shimmering where Merlin had carefully hung the cloak off his chair. It wasn't proper procedure - but Arthur had insisted on showing them off. All of them. Mordred was in blue as well, a couple of shades lighter than Merlin's, and there was a small ring on his hand now, unnoticed by all but a few. Arthur had already signed Mordred as heir to the land that had once been Viviane's dowry and had been added to Morgana's as the last female of that line - she had been only too glad to give it to Mordred.
The ring had been Viviane's, and Morgana wore a matching ring on her own hand that had been her mother's. Both had been found in the small chamber attached to Igraine's as they had cleaned it out. All six of them now lived on that floor, determined to fill it with happiness and their own magic. Beneath his shirt, Arthur wore the last of three rings, having found it on his own private search of his mother's things, left untouched for more than two decades.
Merlin's elbow dug into her ribs - also not protocol, and she was looking forward to watching the court had a fit at their behavior with each other - as Arthur stood up. "Stop teasing the nobility and watch."
"I am nobility," Morgana huffed but leaned forward keenly. After so many pouring speeches, some dancing, and getting to watch Mordred and Lancelot stand up and move around while they had to sit and wait - it had been excruciating. Gwen had been no help as she kept making aborted movements to try and serve something of her own. Merlin at least just did it, not even noticing Arthur's groans of despair.
"My people," Arthur began, the pride in his voice unmistakable. "a great disservice has been done to Camelot for many years bringing about an absence of something that is fundamental in nature and all around us. In fear, we have strived to drive it out and caused only greater harm to the land. Today, I will end this strife."
The court paused, eyes wide, only a few having any idea what was about to happen. All of Arthur's knights, down to a man, shifted their hands to their swords, eyes on the most likely nobles to cause trouble. Morgana had a hand on her sword and another palm up as she mouthed a spell to herself.
"From this day forth, magic is no longer banned in Camelot," Arthur's voice rang out into the stunned room. "It will be treated as any other study, and a person using magic to commit a crime given the same sentence as any other criminal - and the same trial. Magic is welcome in Camelot and in order to facilitate magic's return, I introduce your Court Sorcerer, Lord Merlin of Ealdor."
Morgana nearly choked on the wine she had been sipping to hide her grin. It was the "of Ealdor" that was the surprising part. Ealdor was out of their territory - and one couldn't be a lord of a territory not in their control. She glanced at Merlin, who looked equally stunned. Arthur wasn't done. "As Camelot has seen many troubles caused by magic of late, it only is common sense to have magicians protecting us and a certain brand of protectors willing to help and protect them."
Arthur paused a dramatic moment and Morgana suddenly felt suspicious, locking eyes with Gwen on the other side of Arthur. It had been an odd arrangement - her and Merlin on one side, Gwen and Lancelot and Mordred on the other. She had a feeling now that it meant something more. Arthur smirked at them, the smug bastard. "Being one of these protectors will be one of the highest honors. It shows loyalty and skill, whether it be with magic, swords, or both. They shall be the highest magical authority in land except for Lord Merlin and myself and be the first line of defense where magic is used in battle. Some will be from Camelot's own knights - others from the sorcerers I hope will gather in court. But the first of these will be those who have already proved themselves in the face of powerful magic."
He wouldn't. Morgana swallowed, suddenly understanding why Arthur was convinced that her wearing trousers would be a secondary concern when people saw her, why he was sure her authority would not be questioned. The court was frozen as Arthur gestured first to her, and then slowly on. "The Lady Morgana le Fay, Seer, Lady Guinevere the Brave, Sir Lancelot du Lac, and young Squire Mordred, I name you protectors of this land and accord you with the authority of my most prominent advisors. Any one who wishes to join this elite band of our kingdom must first pass the tests they set forth."
Silence reigned as Arthur stopped speaking at right when it was getting to the point where it seemed like it would suffocate them, Arthur sat and magnanimously said, "You may speak."
As if they actually had been waiting for his permission, the hall erupted into noise, protests and cheers alike rising above the crowd. Somewhere in the crowd, she heard a goblet drop to the floor and by the fact it came from Mordred's general direction, she was quite sure it had been him, forgetting in his shock to hold it. Her own goblet was precariously tipped forward as she stared at Arthur, who leaned back in his chair and said in a low aside to Merlin, "So, when do you want me to acquire Ealdor?"
"Oh, gods," Merlin said, his voice sounding strangled. "You're insane. ...And brilliant."
She put her goblet down carefully and turned her head to watch Arthur lean forward into Merlin's personal space in full view of the noisy court and purr, "Do you think it would be terrible of me to leave my own coronation early? I have something else in mind for celebrating."
Merlin snorted his laughter into a goblet of hopefully watered down wine (she didn't want to deal with a drunk Merlin who would no longer be scared of punishment for using magic) and answered, "Oh, no. You made this mess. You can deal with it."
Arthur leaned back pouting and Morgana remembered just over a month ago when Merlin had been insisting he and Arthur shouldn't do anything because Arthur needed a queen. Smugly, she knew she had been right. There would be no queen, not for Arthur.
She wasn't too sure about having children herself. Her eyes fell on a stunned Mordred who was being carefully guarded by two knights as he got over his shock. Her lips curled up. It wouldn't be too hard to designate him heir if they needed it to stay in the blood. Mordred was growing up handsome - he would start to fill out in the next few years and Morgana was sure he would rival Arthur for skill in tournaments.
Maybe everything wouldn't be perfect and some things would have to be secret, but she could see the kingdom they would have. It would be green and healthy, and growing. Sometimes through war - but sometimes they would capitulate willing, border barons eager to join a land full of fair justice, peasant revolting and moving, the kingdoms that tolerated magic being allies and eventually lesser kings.
For a moment the room faded and she could see Arthur, High King of Albion. Other Kings would bow to him. All of them, eventually. The druids would rise - but they would be ready, Merlin's protection written in blood. She could see the knights, aging and aged - but not them. Their lives spanned on past what she could see, past what anyone could see as the bond they had made in blood tightened, pulling Arthur, Guinevere, and Lancelot to their own, longer life spans.
Morgana leaned forward, smirking at an outraged courtier. "This wasn't what Nimueh imagined, what we're going to be."
"No," Merlin agreed, the smile he gifted her with still a bit pained at the name, as she thought it might always be. "It's not what any of them imagined. This is our path, not theirs. They can all rot."
At his words, deep below the castle, a dragon cried out in despair. If any above heard him, they were no longer listening.
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