Fic: The Heart of King Arthur (3/?)
Masterpost: Here
Dreaming? I’m falling…
Present:
Arthur was left gasping for breath, and made sure to take deep breaths: breathe in, breathe out, calm down, he directed himself.
Then he couldn’t resist swearing out loud. The overwhelming experience called for it.
Once Arthur felt reasonably calmed, he saw that the call went to voicemail. Sitting inside his car now, Arthur listened to the message and the female voice he heard on the other end was unmistakable.
She sounded confident as her voice took on a story-telling vibe, the tone haunting.
The message was:
“One day, long ago, my mother was sitting in the window looking out on the snow that covered the land and wishing for a child to grow inside her belly. Suddenly she pricked her finger with a needle and her blood fell into the snow and she looked and she thought to herself, ‘I would like a little girl with hair as black as the ebony window frame and skin as pale as the snow and lips as red as blood.’ ”
So yes, Morgana did bear a striking resemblance to Snow White, but quoting “Snow White: A Tale of Terror”? It was startling enough to hear her voice once again after all these centuries. Hearing her go into her usual twisted tales (she enjoyed them far too much to be healthy) was a little too much.
He recalled Morgana telling him the story of the little blonde girl named Ella. She had used the same haunting tone of voice. She told him how the girl’s stepmother was envious of her stepdaughter’s beauty. The older woman could not bear to look at her. And so one night, Ella’s stepmother had given her a strong sleeping potion before the young girl went to bed. When the girl was fast asleep, her stepmother took a sharp knife and slashed Ella’s throat, killing her stepdaughter.
Arthur remembered staring at Morgana in stunned horror during the tale. Morgana told him that she tried to forget the story, but then when she dwelled on beauty such as now, she could not help but recall the dark tale. The story of Ella reminded her of the price of being preoccupied with one’s looks. That if she would not temper her vanity, then she would do something regrettable afterwards.
Frankly, Arthur had been surprised that Morgana’s father, Merlin, had been the one to tell her the story. Merlin had told her that it served as a warning for Morgana against being overcome with selfish desires. Arthur wondered if Nimue was rubbing off on Merlin because such a morbid tale would not be uncommon for the priestess to tell.
Leave it to say, Morgana was no stranger to telling dark-laced stories.
Arthur could barely remember the last time he had seen Morgana. He had a vague memory of hearing her voice telling him that he should rest now, that he was at Avalon. Arthur recalled a sense of deep calm envelop him as she spoke to him soothingly. But that was all he could remember.
He then saw that he just received a text message from the same number he’d received the voicemail from.
It said: I have a message to pass on to you. From Merlin. I’m at your house now.
Arthur debated whether to call her back, demand of her how she obtained his mobile number, but in the end, he clicked off his phone and drove out of the parking lot.
Better to talk to her face to face. He was a bit surprised that he was so quick to believe that it was Morgana on his mobile. She hadn’t said her name and he didn’t know if her voice had changed…or what sort of person she was now. After all, it was centuries after Camelot.
But she had a message from Merlin…and Arthur needed to know. If there was a chance that he could see the man again, then he would not question it.
Either way, he had to go home regardless…so this could be an unfunny prank or Morgana could be giving him the contact he needed.
~ * ~
Upon seeing Morgana sitting in his kitchen, Arthur had a hunch that she wasn’t reincarnated. She looked about the same age as him, maybe a little younger, and her outfit gave off the impression that she had come straight from the time of Camelot. She was wearing her velvet green hooded cloak that Arthur had seen her often wear in his past life. Underneath, Morgana had on a green dress and brown dressy boots. A delicate gold necklace with a bird ornament attached to it graced her neck.
“Hello, Arthur. It’s good to see you,” she said softly, sounding a bit unsure. Her hands were clasped together and he noted a hint of tiredness in her green eyes.
“Morgana,” he said with a sigh. He sat down across from her. “I assume that Merlin’s message is not a good one? I would have liked it better if you visited me just to see me. But no, you’ve been living all this time and you didn’t think to see me once. Only when it’s absolutely urgent. And Merlin, well…”
Morgana held up her hand to halt his speech. “Arthur, please. I know you’ve remembered recently. You are being monitored--”
“Monitored? Monitored?” Arthur uttered incredulously. “And you’ve got it wrong. I remembered everything just when my mobile rang, when you called me. I’ve had no time to get a grip on things.”
Morgana looked taken aback. “Oh, well, that’s what I meant by recently,” she said weakly.
Arthur stared at her. “Rubbish ‘monitoring’ system, if you ask me,” he said drily.
“I’m sorry, all right? Very recently then if that suits you better?” She corrected with a hint of exasperation.
Arthur rolled his eyes, but he didn’t comment.
“We thought it best that we wouldn’t interfere in your current life - no more than making sure you were doing all right. As you said, you didn’t remember until tonight. It would have been difficult for us to visit you when you were unaware…” she drifted off.
Arthur had to grudgingly admit that Morgana had a point. He wouldn’t have known what to make of her or Merlin if they had talked to him while Arthur didn’t have his past memories. It would have definitely been awkward.
Morgana continued on, reasoning out, “We were occupied with other matters as I’m sure you were.”
“Right, well, I do appreciate you coming to see me. I don’t know if I can handle bad news now while I’m still trying to sort through this mess in my head,” Arthur remarked, pointing at his head.
Morgana looked apologetic. “I’m sure that you’ll work through your past memories. You just need to give it time,” she said reasonably.
Arthur looked at her like she had gone mad. “You tell me. Will I have time to adjust or will the bad news you’re going to tell me hinder me in that regard?”
Morgana bit her lip then, looking undeniably uncertain. He had her there, Arthur knew it. The message from Merlin had to involve Arthur’s former life somehow. Of course it did. And any hope of quietly working through his past life as King of Camelot flew out the window.
Morgana cleared her throat. She offered, “We can set up an arrangement. After this situation is over with, of course. We could help sort through your old memories and provide you with support.”
Arthur nodded, his eyes piercing hers. “I’ll hold you to that.”
“Good, that’s settled,” she said gratefully. She looked rather relieved. “Now I need to tell you about Avalon.”
He peered at her weirdly. “What about Avalon? Isn’t that where you grew up?” Arthur said. “I do remember after my final battle with Mordred…I heard you speak. You told me I was at Avalon. But that’s all.”
Morgana enlightened him, “There is more to Avalon than meets the eye,” she began. “The Avalon I knew when I was a young girl was only a fraction of the true Avalon. Not long after Kahlan was born, I’ve been ruling Avalon and preparing her people for the day they will be needed. The land is the only all-magic community still thriving in this world. I have put a lot of my time and energy in insuring Avalon’s prosperity over all these centuries.”
“Preparing for what? And are you really telling me you’ve been ruling for almost 1,500 years now?”
“To reign over Avalon requires stability - meaning the constant of the same ruler as long as the leader is able and willing,” Morgana said smoothly, her voice cracking slightly toward the end. Arthur almost missed it. “It was not an easy choice - as I could have given up my immortality if I so wished. Living for such a long time is a tall task. Still, I could think of no better honour than to look after Avalon.”
Arthur couldn’t help feeling impatient. There was an important piece of information that he was missing, he was certain of it. Morgana wasn’t telling him everything.
“Preparations for what, Morgana?” He asked once again.
“It has to do with you,” she explained simply. “Avalon and the Once and Future King, as we call you, will always be intertwined,” she informed him.
Morgana looked about ready to say more, but she didn’t speak further on the matter. She swiftly changed the subject. “As I told you in my message, my father wished me to tell you that Kilgharrah is missing. The Great Dragon was reincarnated at the same time as you were. He has been residing at Avalon since then, but he does venture out sometimes. We can’t keep him under lock and key, unfortunately. He is a proud and stubborn creature as you may remember,” she said to him.
Arthur understood what she meant. He gave a small eye roll as he remembered Kilgharrah’s stubborn personality.
Morgana pressed on, telling him, “The Great Dragon is still bonded to you. You do know that, right?”
“But I was reborn and as far as I recall, I haven’t seen any dragons in this life.”
She gave him a small smile. “Yes, but what he gave to you in the days of Camelot, the gift of life, still holds true even now. And as is the case, your lives are still connected.”
Arthur’s eyes narrowed. A tendril of fear swept through him. This was the worst news he could get. If his life was still dependent on Kilgharrah living, and vice versa, then with the dragon missing…if the creature had been captured, if his captors planned to kill the dragon, then Arthur could literally drop dead any second now…. And he wouldn’t have a clue when to expect it. The uncertainty was the worst of it. He hated not knowing what was going to happen.
“I could die,” Arthur spoke, accusation creeping into his tone.
Morgana gave him a sad look. “I’m sorry, Arthur. My father has been looking after Kilgharrah all these years, of course, as he is the dragon’s keeper. This time though, when the dragon left Avalon, he did not return as he usually does. My father was occupied elsewhere, and he told me that he believes sorcerers may have taken the dragon. He discovered that Kilgharrah was missing a few days ago, so it is still early yet. You’re alive, so we could only hope the perpetrators are using the dragon as a hostage. Or worst case, biding their time before they kill the Great Dragon.”
“Do you think Mordred could have a hand in this? Who else would choose to capture the dragon? He knows about the connection I have with the Dragon. I expect Mordred would jump at any opportunity to kill me however roundabout.”
Morgana’s expression darkened. “No, it couldn’t be him,” she said fiercely. “Mordred was denied immortality and the ability to be reborn due to his embracing of dark magic. I have not seen him, and he’s most certainly dead as far as I know,” she told him.
“Are you aware of what’s going on outside of Avalon? There are these books published about me, each a different variation of my life and of Camelot as a whole.”
“Arthurian legend?” Morgana inquired and gave a quick nod. “Yes, of course. I know about that. I do have a mobile and I try to keep up with how the outside world has progressed since Camelot. It wouldn’t do to be ignorant,” she said reasonably.
She showed him her mobile, which was a deep purple color and had the word “Avalon” written in silver across the back of it.
“Yes, well…then you know that the stories mention Mordred. Some stories make him a sympathetic character…and it could only take one person to have the impetus to bring him back. Some people worship the devil after all. Mordred wouldn’t be much of a stretch,” he suggested darkly.
Morgana bit her lip, uneasy about the idea Arthur was presenting.
“Let’s hope that isn’t the case. I trust that my father will resolve this situation and everything will turn out fine. He told me that he will come to see you tomorrow. Then the both of you can discuss where to go from there.”
“Searching for Kilgharrah then?” Arthur remarked.
“Yes, my father will know what has to be done. You shouldn’t worry. I’ll stay here with you until he comes.”
“And what…check to see if I’m still breathing when I go to sleep? It sounds like babysitting to me,” he huffed in exasperation.
“I missed your wit,” Morgana said drily, rolling her eyes.
“The situation asked for it,” Arthur shot back.
Morgana sighed and shrugged. “It isn’t easy to hear, but we have to tread carefully now.”
Arthur nodded, reluctantly agreeing with her because what else could he do? He felt especially tired all of a sudden. Being told that you could die any moment now could do that to a person, he mused.
“I’ll make some tea,” Arthur declared then and he stood up.
“So what’s with that voicemail - the Snow White bit?” Arthur brought up after he had set the tea on the table and Morgana did her part and took care of the biscuits.
Frankly, the blond wouldn’t have been surprised if she had made quick work of figuring out what was where before he’d arrived. She never turned down the opportunity to investigate her surroundings - out of sheer boredom or natural curiosity; both were likely in this case.
Morgana gave him an odd look. “What?”
Arthur waved his hand. “‘I would like a little girl with hair as black as the ebony window frame and skin as pale as the snow and lips as red as blood.’ Ring a bell?”
Morgana’s lips twisted. She looked bemused. “Oh, well, actually, my mother told me that she was thinking those things before I was born. That I was the answer to her wishes: a girl with black hair, pale skin and red lips…”
Arthur felt unnerved at that, but then…he could really see Nimue thinking that. She was a good woman, but most of the time, that quality was inexorably overshadowed by her dark, intense moods. Merlin was the exact opposite. He always tried to look on the brighter side of life and he was never without a smile or a kind word. From what Arthur had witnessed of the relationship between his former mentor and the priestess, it was an ‘opposites attract’ sort of relationship.
“So…the finger pricking, blood on snow, the ebony window frame…” he ventured.
Morgana nodded. “Yes, that’s how my mother came up with the idea. Viviane had fair hair and so Mother wanted a girl with dark hair and light eyes next. I don’t know why I left you a message like that, now, going back over it. Just the text would have sufficed. I was in the mood, I would say. And the message certainly made you listen, didn’t it?”
“Yeah, that’s one way to put it. You do know that everyone believes the Brothers Grimm came up with those lines? With that version of events for Snow White?”
“They haven’t met my mother yet then. I assure you that she came up with it first. Actually, I remember having a dream a few weeks before Kahlan was conceived…my mother was sitting by the window, black window frames of course, watching the snow fall outside, and she had pricked her finger--”
But Arthur interrupted her, looking at Morgana in disbelief. “Are you suggesting that dream was telling you about Kahlan?”
Morgana shrugged. “At the time, I didn’t think much of it because it was my mother in the dream. I assumed that the dream was looking into the past, to see my mother before I was born, or even conceived. I didn’t realize until later that it could have been an omen that I would become pregnant not even a month after the dream. I was young then; I didn’t look into it too deeply.”
“For all the good I did, I still made mistakes,” Arthur muttered resignedly.
Morgana tried to reassure him, the many years she had lived granting her wisdom. “Everyone makes mistakes. The important thing is that you learn from them. And it all worked out well enough in the end. Despite the…” she paused, trying to find a nice word to use (other than taint or curse that Arthur had remembered being bandied about when Kahlan was young), “despite the gift our daughter has, she has grown up to be a good woman. I know I did the right thing by training her early and insuring that she could control herself.”
“She’s immortal then?” Arthur said shrewdly, catching the present tenses that Morgana had used.
Morgana inclined her head, her hands wrapped around her tea cup. “Yes, she is. Kahlan will succeed me as the ruler of Avalon. She will take on my current title as the Lady of Avalon.”
“And does she still have,” Arthur began and gestured with his hand around his neck. He waved his hand at Morgana. “-that power?”
“Yes, Arthur,” she answered with a tired sigh. “She is still a Confessor. We can not remove that power from her. We have certainly had many years to try to find a solution, but it is as much a part of her as my magic is a part of me.”
Arthur rubbed the back of his head, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden. “I’m sorry. If I had known that could happen…”
“I know I blamed you at first, but I was just as complicit in the act as you were. True, we were both rather tipsy and quite foolish at the time, but I wanted to be with you all the same. It was my Mother who told me, afterwards, of an old story passed down amongst sorceresses about the consequences of bedding a man before marriage. That the repercussions were far more damaging for the sorceress’ offspring than it would be for a non-magical female. That an unpleasant curse would be placed on the child. And you know what Kahlan could do. At least she can control it - well, except when she sleeps with another man,” she said to him.
Arthur was well aware of what Kahlan was capable of doing. It was a hard thing to accept, but it was the only option he had in his past life. To accept his daughter’s condition, or pretend she was never his, but Arthur never saw that as a choice - he could never denounce her.
Morgana continued on sadly, “I wished she had told me about that before we had slept together, but what is done is done.”
Arthur agreed with her. He didn’t regret Kahlan being born though. No matter how she came into this world and the supposed curse on her, he had still loved her.
After all, hadn’t he himself been saved by Kilgharrah, by the Dragon giving him a part of his heart? And if Morgana was right, then the gift was still a part of him even in his current life. That made him different, imperfect in a way…it didn’t compare to the magnitude of his daughter’s condition and how drastically it affected her life, but Arthur understood the feeling of being different than others.
He remembered the first time he had seen his daughter place a man under her power, or Confess him as was the more correct term. Kahlan had only been sixteen years old. She had Confessed the bandit, one of a group that had waylaid them on their journey to his mother’s grave, to prevent the man from attacking Arthur from behind.
“How is she now? Kahlan?” Arthur asked Morgana.
“Oh, she’s just fine. Busy with responsibilities, making sure she knows what to do when she succeeds me. Richard’s at Avalon too, you know. I didn’t want her to be alone, so I was able to grant him immortality. He will rule Avalon with her.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen a happier arranged marriage than the two of them.”
“My father did a particularly good job picking Richard, I agree. He knew Richard’s grandfather well. Friend of the family is always safest.”
“I always thought Richard was crazy for going along with it,” Arthur remarked shortly.
“Arthur, she’s your daughter!” Morgana reminded him fiercely.
Arthur just raised his hand in surrender. “I am just saying that it takes an exceptionally brave man to marry someone like our daughter…considering how dysfunctional their relationship will inevitably be.”
“Oh, seriously, Arthur,” Morgana said incredulously. “You make it sound like Richard’s going into his final battle instead of being with our daughter,” she placed special emphasis on the ‘our’ bit as if reminding Arthur that she had every right to smack him.
“They’ve never--?”
“Of course not. But Richard is fine with the restrictions. He loves her despite them.”
Arthur opened his mouth, planning to say something, but he retreated when he saw Morgana sporting a rather intimidating look.
“…are you going to slap me?” He asked her.
“You’re insufferable,” Morgana replied wryly, shaking her head.
“According to you, I may just die any second, so I apologize if I’m bothering you. You could leave if you want,” Arthur retorted.
He leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not leaving you, especially now,” Morgana said, affronted.
“You’ve done a brilliant job avoiding me for the past thirty years I’ve been alive in this life!” He said fiercely, his blue eyes glittering in his anger. “What’s stopping you now? And why your father hasn’t seen fit to visit me and sent you along instead…”
“He’s busy with collecting information, all right? So he has a better idea where to proceed with finding the dragon. My father thought since you and I share a history,”
“Tell me about it,” Arthur muttered under his breath. Morgana looked at him sharply, but finished her explanation regardless, “-that it would be best if I met with you.”
“…or Merlin is avoiding a potentially awkward reunion with me. Either or, the shoe fits,” Arthur countered, waving his hand with a flourish.
Morgana rolled her eyes. “Still in love with him, are we?”
“Morgana, considering he’s your father, I don’t think we should get into this now,” Arthur told her.
“Well, if you insist on bringing him up…” she pointed out.
“I intend on hitting him over the head next time I see him,” Arthur declared.
“Charming, Arthur, charming,” she said drily.
Arthur shrugged. He decided to change the subject, for both their sanities. “So, what is Avalon like? Is everyone immortal there?”
“Oh, it’s a great place. It’s an island--” Morgana began.
Arthur interrupted, “Yes, I remember you saying it was an island. The ‘Isle of Apples’ you called it.”
“The apples are still there. The weather is always nice and the land is well-cared for. Some might say that it is a paradise,” she mused.
“Or a final resting place,” Arthur noted. He had been taken to Avalon upon his death after all.
“I suppose so, yes,” she said softly. Morgana continued on a moment later, answering his other question, “It is a long, selective process to be granted immortality. Most people on Avalon live to at least a hundred years of age. So that is still a good, long life - even by the standards of the present world you live in.”
“I’m assuming you’re immortal because Merlin is? It’s a matter of genetics?”
Morgana nodded. “And Kahlan as well. We can sort of circumvent the process…”
“Why was I reborn then instead of being considered for immortality? Because, I have to tell you, it’s not been fun being left behind like this.”
“Are you really that unhappy, Arthur? You were always meant for reincarnation, never immortality. You’re “off-limits” for consideration. I’m sorry.” Her tone was sincere, but it wasn’t enough to appease Arthur.
“That’s bloody unfair,” Arthur remarked, frustrated.
Morgana wisely changed the subject. “You’re working toward being a cardiologist, right? That has to do with the heart, doesn’t it?”
Arthur raised his brow at her. “I know you’ve been ‘monitoring’ me, but at least give me the illusion that I don’t have unseen stalkers, Morgana,” he told her.
“Shall I give you a sleeping potion to put you to sleep now?” Morgana offered sweetly. “Then I can have a peaceful night.”
Arthur glared at her, but decided to relent getting into another argument. It wasn’t worth it. He started telling her about what, hopefully, would be his future profession in this life.
~ * ~
Part 4
Dreaming? I’m falling…
Present:
Arthur was left gasping for breath, and made sure to take deep breaths: breathe in, breathe out, calm down, he directed himself.
Then he couldn’t resist swearing out loud. The overwhelming experience called for it.
Once Arthur felt reasonably calmed, he saw that the call went to voicemail. Sitting inside his car now, Arthur listened to the message and the female voice he heard on the other end was unmistakable.
She sounded confident as her voice took on a story-telling vibe, the tone haunting.
The message was:
“One day, long ago, my mother was sitting in the window looking out on the snow that covered the land and wishing for a child to grow inside her belly. Suddenly she pricked her finger with a needle and her blood fell into the snow and she looked and she thought to herself, ‘I would like a little girl with hair as black as the ebony window frame and skin as pale as the snow and lips as red as blood.’ ”
So yes, Morgana did bear a striking resemblance to Snow White, but quoting “Snow White: A Tale of Terror”? It was startling enough to hear her voice once again after all these centuries. Hearing her go into her usual twisted tales (she enjoyed them far too much to be healthy) was a little too much.
He recalled Morgana telling him the story of the little blonde girl named Ella. She had used the same haunting tone of voice. She told him how the girl’s stepmother was envious of her stepdaughter’s beauty. The older woman could not bear to look at her. And so one night, Ella’s stepmother had given her a strong sleeping potion before the young girl went to bed. When the girl was fast asleep, her stepmother took a sharp knife and slashed Ella’s throat, killing her stepdaughter.
Arthur remembered staring at Morgana in stunned horror during the tale. Morgana told him that she tried to forget the story, but then when she dwelled on beauty such as now, she could not help but recall the dark tale. The story of Ella reminded her of the price of being preoccupied with one’s looks. That if she would not temper her vanity, then she would do something regrettable afterwards.
Frankly, Arthur had been surprised that Morgana’s father, Merlin, had been the one to tell her the story. Merlin had told her that it served as a warning for Morgana against being overcome with selfish desires. Arthur wondered if Nimue was rubbing off on Merlin because such a morbid tale would not be uncommon for the priestess to tell.
Leave it to say, Morgana was no stranger to telling dark-laced stories.
Arthur could barely remember the last time he had seen Morgana. He had a vague memory of hearing her voice telling him that he should rest now, that he was at Avalon. Arthur recalled a sense of deep calm envelop him as she spoke to him soothingly. But that was all he could remember.
He then saw that he just received a text message from the same number he’d received the voicemail from.
It said: I have a message to pass on to you. From Merlin. I’m at your house now.
Arthur debated whether to call her back, demand of her how she obtained his mobile number, but in the end, he clicked off his phone and drove out of the parking lot.
Better to talk to her face to face. He was a bit surprised that he was so quick to believe that it was Morgana on his mobile. She hadn’t said her name and he didn’t know if her voice had changed…or what sort of person she was now. After all, it was centuries after Camelot.
But she had a message from Merlin…and Arthur needed to know. If there was a chance that he could see the man again, then he would not question it.
Either way, he had to go home regardless…so this could be an unfunny prank or Morgana could be giving him the contact he needed.
~ * ~
Upon seeing Morgana sitting in his kitchen, Arthur had a hunch that she wasn’t reincarnated. She looked about the same age as him, maybe a little younger, and her outfit gave off the impression that she had come straight from the time of Camelot. She was wearing her velvet green hooded cloak that Arthur had seen her often wear in his past life. Underneath, Morgana had on a green dress and brown dressy boots. A delicate gold necklace with a bird ornament attached to it graced her neck.
“Hello, Arthur. It’s good to see you,” she said softly, sounding a bit unsure. Her hands were clasped together and he noted a hint of tiredness in her green eyes.
“Morgana,” he said with a sigh. He sat down across from her. “I assume that Merlin’s message is not a good one? I would have liked it better if you visited me just to see me. But no, you’ve been living all this time and you didn’t think to see me once. Only when it’s absolutely urgent. And Merlin, well…”
Morgana held up her hand to halt his speech. “Arthur, please. I know you’ve remembered recently. You are being monitored--”
“Monitored? Monitored?” Arthur uttered incredulously. “And you’ve got it wrong. I remembered everything just when my mobile rang, when you called me. I’ve had no time to get a grip on things.”
Morgana looked taken aback. “Oh, well, that’s what I meant by recently,” she said weakly.
Arthur stared at her. “Rubbish ‘monitoring’ system, if you ask me,” he said drily.
“I’m sorry, all right? Very recently then if that suits you better?” She corrected with a hint of exasperation.
Arthur rolled his eyes, but he didn’t comment.
“We thought it best that we wouldn’t interfere in your current life - no more than making sure you were doing all right. As you said, you didn’t remember until tonight. It would have been difficult for us to visit you when you were unaware…” she drifted off.
Arthur had to grudgingly admit that Morgana had a point. He wouldn’t have known what to make of her or Merlin if they had talked to him while Arthur didn’t have his past memories. It would have definitely been awkward.
Morgana continued on, reasoning out, “We were occupied with other matters as I’m sure you were.”
“Right, well, I do appreciate you coming to see me. I don’t know if I can handle bad news now while I’m still trying to sort through this mess in my head,” Arthur remarked, pointing at his head.
Morgana looked apologetic. “I’m sure that you’ll work through your past memories. You just need to give it time,” she said reasonably.
Arthur looked at her like she had gone mad. “You tell me. Will I have time to adjust or will the bad news you’re going to tell me hinder me in that regard?”
Morgana bit her lip then, looking undeniably uncertain. He had her there, Arthur knew it. The message from Merlin had to involve Arthur’s former life somehow. Of course it did. And any hope of quietly working through his past life as King of Camelot flew out the window.
Morgana cleared her throat. She offered, “We can set up an arrangement. After this situation is over with, of course. We could help sort through your old memories and provide you with support.”
Arthur nodded, his eyes piercing hers. “I’ll hold you to that.”
“Good, that’s settled,” she said gratefully. She looked rather relieved. “Now I need to tell you about Avalon.”
He peered at her weirdly. “What about Avalon? Isn’t that where you grew up?” Arthur said. “I do remember after my final battle with Mordred…I heard you speak. You told me I was at Avalon. But that’s all.”
Morgana enlightened him, “There is more to Avalon than meets the eye,” she began. “The Avalon I knew when I was a young girl was only a fraction of the true Avalon. Not long after Kahlan was born, I’ve been ruling Avalon and preparing her people for the day they will be needed. The land is the only all-magic community still thriving in this world. I have put a lot of my time and energy in insuring Avalon’s prosperity over all these centuries.”
“Preparing for what? And are you really telling me you’ve been ruling for almost 1,500 years now?”
“To reign over Avalon requires stability - meaning the constant of the same ruler as long as the leader is able and willing,” Morgana said smoothly, her voice cracking slightly toward the end. Arthur almost missed it. “It was not an easy choice - as I could have given up my immortality if I so wished. Living for such a long time is a tall task. Still, I could think of no better honour than to look after Avalon.”
Arthur couldn’t help feeling impatient. There was an important piece of information that he was missing, he was certain of it. Morgana wasn’t telling him everything.
“Preparations for what, Morgana?” He asked once again.
“It has to do with you,” she explained simply. “Avalon and the Once and Future King, as we call you, will always be intertwined,” she informed him.
Morgana looked about ready to say more, but she didn’t speak further on the matter. She swiftly changed the subject. “As I told you in my message, my father wished me to tell you that Kilgharrah is missing. The Great Dragon was reincarnated at the same time as you were. He has been residing at Avalon since then, but he does venture out sometimes. We can’t keep him under lock and key, unfortunately. He is a proud and stubborn creature as you may remember,” she said to him.
Arthur understood what she meant. He gave a small eye roll as he remembered Kilgharrah’s stubborn personality.
Morgana pressed on, telling him, “The Great Dragon is still bonded to you. You do know that, right?”
“But I was reborn and as far as I recall, I haven’t seen any dragons in this life.”
She gave him a small smile. “Yes, but what he gave to you in the days of Camelot, the gift of life, still holds true even now. And as is the case, your lives are still connected.”
Arthur’s eyes narrowed. A tendril of fear swept through him. This was the worst news he could get. If his life was still dependent on Kilgharrah living, and vice versa, then with the dragon missing…if the creature had been captured, if his captors planned to kill the dragon, then Arthur could literally drop dead any second now…. And he wouldn’t have a clue when to expect it. The uncertainty was the worst of it. He hated not knowing what was going to happen.
“I could die,” Arthur spoke, accusation creeping into his tone.
Morgana gave him a sad look. “I’m sorry, Arthur. My father has been looking after Kilgharrah all these years, of course, as he is the dragon’s keeper. This time though, when the dragon left Avalon, he did not return as he usually does. My father was occupied elsewhere, and he told me that he believes sorcerers may have taken the dragon. He discovered that Kilgharrah was missing a few days ago, so it is still early yet. You’re alive, so we could only hope the perpetrators are using the dragon as a hostage. Or worst case, biding their time before they kill the Great Dragon.”
“Do you think Mordred could have a hand in this? Who else would choose to capture the dragon? He knows about the connection I have with the Dragon. I expect Mordred would jump at any opportunity to kill me however roundabout.”
Morgana’s expression darkened. “No, it couldn’t be him,” she said fiercely. “Mordred was denied immortality and the ability to be reborn due to his embracing of dark magic. I have not seen him, and he’s most certainly dead as far as I know,” she told him.
“Are you aware of what’s going on outside of Avalon? There are these books published about me, each a different variation of my life and of Camelot as a whole.”
“Arthurian legend?” Morgana inquired and gave a quick nod. “Yes, of course. I know about that. I do have a mobile and I try to keep up with how the outside world has progressed since Camelot. It wouldn’t do to be ignorant,” she said reasonably.
She showed him her mobile, which was a deep purple color and had the word “Avalon” written in silver across the back of it.
“Yes, well…then you know that the stories mention Mordred. Some stories make him a sympathetic character…and it could only take one person to have the impetus to bring him back. Some people worship the devil after all. Mordred wouldn’t be much of a stretch,” he suggested darkly.
Morgana bit her lip, uneasy about the idea Arthur was presenting.
“Let’s hope that isn’t the case. I trust that my father will resolve this situation and everything will turn out fine. He told me that he will come to see you tomorrow. Then the both of you can discuss where to go from there.”
“Searching for Kilgharrah then?” Arthur remarked.
“Yes, my father will know what has to be done. You shouldn’t worry. I’ll stay here with you until he comes.”
“And what…check to see if I’m still breathing when I go to sleep? It sounds like babysitting to me,” he huffed in exasperation.
“I missed your wit,” Morgana said drily, rolling her eyes.
“The situation asked for it,” Arthur shot back.
Morgana sighed and shrugged. “It isn’t easy to hear, but we have to tread carefully now.”
Arthur nodded, reluctantly agreeing with her because what else could he do? He felt especially tired all of a sudden. Being told that you could die any moment now could do that to a person, he mused.
“I’ll make some tea,” Arthur declared then and he stood up.
“So what’s with that voicemail - the Snow White bit?” Arthur brought up after he had set the tea on the table and Morgana did her part and took care of the biscuits.
Frankly, the blond wouldn’t have been surprised if she had made quick work of figuring out what was where before he’d arrived. She never turned down the opportunity to investigate her surroundings - out of sheer boredom or natural curiosity; both were likely in this case.
Morgana gave him an odd look. “What?”
Arthur waved his hand. “‘I would like a little girl with hair as black as the ebony window frame and skin as pale as the snow and lips as red as blood.’ Ring a bell?”
Morgana’s lips twisted. She looked bemused. “Oh, well, actually, my mother told me that she was thinking those things before I was born. That I was the answer to her wishes: a girl with black hair, pale skin and red lips…”
Arthur felt unnerved at that, but then…he could really see Nimue thinking that. She was a good woman, but most of the time, that quality was inexorably overshadowed by her dark, intense moods. Merlin was the exact opposite. He always tried to look on the brighter side of life and he was never without a smile or a kind word. From what Arthur had witnessed of the relationship between his former mentor and the priestess, it was an ‘opposites attract’ sort of relationship.
“So…the finger pricking, blood on snow, the ebony window frame…” he ventured.
Morgana nodded. “Yes, that’s how my mother came up with the idea. Viviane had fair hair and so Mother wanted a girl with dark hair and light eyes next. I don’t know why I left you a message like that, now, going back over it. Just the text would have sufficed. I was in the mood, I would say. And the message certainly made you listen, didn’t it?”
“Yeah, that’s one way to put it. You do know that everyone believes the Brothers Grimm came up with those lines? With that version of events for Snow White?”
“They haven’t met my mother yet then. I assure you that she came up with it first. Actually, I remember having a dream a few weeks before Kahlan was conceived…my mother was sitting by the window, black window frames of course, watching the snow fall outside, and she had pricked her finger--”
But Arthur interrupted her, looking at Morgana in disbelief. “Are you suggesting that dream was telling you about Kahlan?”
Morgana shrugged. “At the time, I didn’t think much of it because it was my mother in the dream. I assumed that the dream was looking into the past, to see my mother before I was born, or even conceived. I didn’t realize until later that it could have been an omen that I would become pregnant not even a month after the dream. I was young then; I didn’t look into it too deeply.”
“For all the good I did, I still made mistakes,” Arthur muttered resignedly.
Morgana tried to reassure him, the many years she had lived granting her wisdom. “Everyone makes mistakes. The important thing is that you learn from them. And it all worked out well enough in the end. Despite the…” she paused, trying to find a nice word to use (other than taint or curse that Arthur had remembered being bandied about when Kahlan was young), “despite the gift our daughter has, she has grown up to be a good woman. I know I did the right thing by training her early and insuring that she could control herself.”
“She’s immortal then?” Arthur said shrewdly, catching the present tenses that Morgana had used.
Morgana inclined her head, her hands wrapped around her tea cup. “Yes, she is. Kahlan will succeed me as the ruler of Avalon. She will take on my current title as the Lady of Avalon.”
“And does she still have,” Arthur began and gestured with his hand around his neck. He waved his hand at Morgana. “-that power?”
“Yes, Arthur,” she answered with a tired sigh. “She is still a Confessor. We can not remove that power from her. We have certainly had many years to try to find a solution, but it is as much a part of her as my magic is a part of me.”
Arthur rubbed the back of his head, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden. “I’m sorry. If I had known that could happen…”
“I know I blamed you at first, but I was just as complicit in the act as you were. True, we were both rather tipsy and quite foolish at the time, but I wanted to be with you all the same. It was my Mother who told me, afterwards, of an old story passed down amongst sorceresses about the consequences of bedding a man before marriage. That the repercussions were far more damaging for the sorceress’ offspring than it would be for a non-magical female. That an unpleasant curse would be placed on the child. And you know what Kahlan could do. At least she can control it - well, except when she sleeps with another man,” she said to him.
Arthur was well aware of what Kahlan was capable of doing. It was a hard thing to accept, but it was the only option he had in his past life. To accept his daughter’s condition, or pretend she was never his, but Arthur never saw that as a choice - he could never denounce her.
Morgana continued on sadly, “I wished she had told me about that before we had slept together, but what is done is done.”
Arthur agreed with her. He didn’t regret Kahlan being born though. No matter how she came into this world and the supposed curse on her, he had still loved her.
After all, hadn’t he himself been saved by Kilgharrah, by the Dragon giving him a part of his heart? And if Morgana was right, then the gift was still a part of him even in his current life. That made him different, imperfect in a way…it didn’t compare to the magnitude of his daughter’s condition and how drastically it affected her life, but Arthur understood the feeling of being different than others.
He remembered the first time he had seen his daughter place a man under her power, or Confess him as was the more correct term. Kahlan had only been sixteen years old. She had Confessed the bandit, one of a group that had waylaid them on their journey to his mother’s grave, to prevent the man from attacking Arthur from behind.
“How is she now? Kahlan?” Arthur asked Morgana.
“Oh, she’s just fine. Busy with responsibilities, making sure she knows what to do when she succeeds me. Richard’s at Avalon too, you know. I didn’t want her to be alone, so I was able to grant him immortality. He will rule Avalon with her.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen a happier arranged marriage than the two of them.”
“My father did a particularly good job picking Richard, I agree. He knew Richard’s grandfather well. Friend of the family is always safest.”
“I always thought Richard was crazy for going along with it,” Arthur remarked shortly.
“Arthur, she’s your daughter!” Morgana reminded him fiercely.
Arthur just raised his hand in surrender. “I am just saying that it takes an exceptionally brave man to marry someone like our daughter…considering how dysfunctional their relationship will inevitably be.”
“Oh, seriously, Arthur,” Morgana said incredulously. “You make it sound like Richard’s going into his final battle instead of being with our daughter,” she placed special emphasis on the ‘our’ bit as if reminding Arthur that she had every right to smack him.
“They’ve never--?”
“Of course not. But Richard is fine with the restrictions. He loves her despite them.”
Arthur opened his mouth, planning to say something, but he retreated when he saw Morgana sporting a rather intimidating look.
“…are you going to slap me?” He asked her.
“You’re insufferable,” Morgana replied wryly, shaking her head.
“According to you, I may just die any second, so I apologize if I’m bothering you. You could leave if you want,” Arthur retorted.
He leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not leaving you, especially now,” Morgana said, affronted.
“You’ve done a brilliant job avoiding me for the past thirty years I’ve been alive in this life!” He said fiercely, his blue eyes glittering in his anger. “What’s stopping you now? And why your father hasn’t seen fit to visit me and sent you along instead…”
“He’s busy with collecting information, all right? So he has a better idea where to proceed with finding the dragon. My father thought since you and I share a history,”
“Tell me about it,” Arthur muttered under his breath. Morgana looked at him sharply, but finished her explanation regardless, “-that it would be best if I met with you.”
“…or Merlin is avoiding a potentially awkward reunion with me. Either or, the shoe fits,” Arthur countered, waving his hand with a flourish.
Morgana rolled her eyes. “Still in love with him, are we?”
“Morgana, considering he’s your father, I don’t think we should get into this now,” Arthur told her.
“Well, if you insist on bringing him up…” she pointed out.
“I intend on hitting him over the head next time I see him,” Arthur declared.
“Charming, Arthur, charming,” she said drily.
Arthur shrugged. He decided to change the subject, for both their sanities. “So, what is Avalon like? Is everyone immortal there?”
“Oh, it’s a great place. It’s an island--” Morgana began.
Arthur interrupted, “Yes, I remember you saying it was an island. The ‘Isle of Apples’ you called it.”
“The apples are still there. The weather is always nice and the land is well-cared for. Some might say that it is a paradise,” she mused.
“Or a final resting place,” Arthur noted. He had been taken to Avalon upon his death after all.
“I suppose so, yes,” she said softly. Morgana continued on a moment later, answering his other question, “It is a long, selective process to be granted immortality. Most people on Avalon live to at least a hundred years of age. So that is still a good, long life - even by the standards of the present world you live in.”
“I’m assuming you’re immortal because Merlin is? It’s a matter of genetics?”
Morgana nodded. “And Kahlan as well. We can sort of circumvent the process…”
“Why was I reborn then instead of being considered for immortality? Because, I have to tell you, it’s not been fun being left behind like this.”
“Are you really that unhappy, Arthur? You were always meant for reincarnation, never immortality. You’re “off-limits” for consideration. I’m sorry.” Her tone was sincere, but it wasn’t enough to appease Arthur.
“That’s bloody unfair,” Arthur remarked, frustrated.
Morgana wisely changed the subject. “You’re working toward being a cardiologist, right? That has to do with the heart, doesn’t it?”
Arthur raised his brow at her. “I know you’ve been ‘monitoring’ me, but at least give me the illusion that I don’t have unseen stalkers, Morgana,” he told her.
“Shall I give you a sleeping potion to put you to sleep now?” Morgana offered sweetly. “Then I can have a peaceful night.”
Arthur glared at her, but decided to relent getting into another argument. It wasn’t worth it. He started telling her about what, hopefully, would be his future profession in this life.
~ * ~
Part 4