#anne morgause | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

legends-of-time · 9 months ago

Text

Amelia’s Story (BBC Merlin Story)

Chapter 55: The Hunter's Heart

Masterlist

Amelia's POV

"You've agreed to what?!" Amelia splutters as she stares at Arthur agape. She had been forcibly led to Arthur's Chambers after being told the King wants to see her. She had hoped it was going to be a quick session of Arthur pleading for her forgiveness, again she wouldn't give it then she would leave but Amelia hadn't expected this.

"Marriage. It is not that big of a deal." Arthur rebuffs. "What's important is that the lands of Gedref will no longer be in dispute between us and Nemeth."

"Not that big of a deal?!" Amelia retorts. "Marriage isn't something that should be treated casually! And what about—"

Arthur feigns ignorance but is clearly angry and upset. "What?" Amelia doesn't reply, staring at him in silence. "You mean Guinevere. I told you not to mention her name again."

"I'm trying to have a logical conversation with you which is why I didn't." Amelia replies testily. "But can you really do this to her?"

Arthur's face morphs into anger. "How many times do I have to tell you? Guinevere made her choice. She betrayed me. Now she must take the consequences."

"But—"

A knock echoes and Arthur voices his acceptance for them to come in. The doors open and Agravaine saunters in. Great. "My Lord?"

Arthur sends their treacherous uncle a tense smile. "Uncle, I was just telling Amelia the news before I announce it to the Court later."

What?! Amelia's head snaps to Arthur, who has the decency to look down, ashamed. "You're announcing it today and you're only just telling me?!"

"It was confidential, we couldn't tell—" Agravaine pipes up.

"I wasn't talking to you, Uncle." Amelia snaps, sending a dark look to Agravaine over her shoulder. She turns back to Arthur. "Why the negotiations? Why now?"

Before Arthur can reply, Agravaine cuts in, "We were, at best, in a tense friendship with them. We now have an opening for a more solid friendship between the two realms so this danger will not exist, and they will be one of Camelot's firmest allies and..."

"I am good friends with the Princess of Nemeth." Amelia cuts in, rather enjoying how Agravaine's lips purse at that.

After Nimueh’s attack, she had faintly remembered knowing Mithian. Morgana and Anne had provided more solid recollections of the Princess, who’s been very understanding when Amelia last visited before she got kidnapped by Morgause, and Morgana had been corrupted, and she had filled Amelia in on a lot of other details.

Amelia shakes her thoughts away. "For many years I, along with my sister, travelled there frequently. I don't believe it's a tense friendship if Uther was willing to allow his ward and daughter, with only a handful of Guards, to attend celebrations in the Kingdom."

"Yes, well, the friendship now has a chance to be a solid alliance—"

"And marriage seems the only way." Amelia interrupts again, looking up at him with a frown.

"Exactly." Agravaine smiles, Amelia can see it's strained. "It can be argued that the King and Princess Mithian are a good match, politically speaking." He adds that last part quickly when Amelia narrows her eyes at him.

"How can I be expected to believe you understand the relations that Camelot has with its neighbouring Kingdoms?" Amelia questions taking Agravaine by surprise.

"I shall have you know—" He begins.

But she cuts him off yet again. "Given that you had not set foot in the Kingdom since Queen Ygraine passed until more recently, how are you fully aware of the other realms and how Camelot feels for them or them for us? Until such a time as you can prove your competence in describing the details and relationships Camelot has to others, I am afraid I cannot trust your judgement."

Arthur sighs tiredly as if he's dealing with a misbehaving toddler, which Amelia takes offence to. "I know you don't like it but it needs to be done, Amelia, it's the only way."

——

Amelia storms in front of Arthur as they walk towards the Council Chambers and pointedly stands among the Knights, Gaius, Merlin, and Anne instead of by Arthur at the head of the room. Arthur walks to the front of the room and faces his Court.

"My Lords, fellow Knights, gentlemen." Arthur greets. "As you are all aware, Camelot's claim to the lands of Gedref has long been in dispute. Today I can announce that, after many months of confidential negotiations, the Kingdoms of Nemeth and Camelot have reached an agreement."

Murmuring broke out amongst the Court because this is actually a really big deal. Nemeth and Camelot have been disputing Gedref for years, going back to Uther's time.

"There's nothing to fear." Arthur assures. "It is a fair and honourable agreement that benefits two great Kingdoms." He pauses, then says, "Furthermore, our friendship will be cemented by a union that cannot be broken. My hand in marriage to Her Royal Highness, Princess Mithian."

More murmuring amongst the Court, but then applause follows. Amelia looks over at Merlin and Anne who are staring slack-jawed at Arthur.

"Smile," Gaius mutters to the two of them.

Merlin shakes his head. "He can't mean that."

"He has to be joking." Anne mutters.

Amelia glares at Arthur. "He isn't."

"And clap. Smile and clap."

Anne and Merlin immediately put on big fake smiles and do over the top clapping. Amelia stays stone faced and arms crossed, narrowing her eyes at Arthur. How could he do this to her friend?

——

Anne and Merlin immediately turn on Amelia as soon as the meeting is over.

"Why didn't you tell us about this?" Anne questions as she tries to keep up with Amelia as she strides along the corridors. Merlin is hovering just behind Amelia on her other side.

Amelia sighs, slowing down her pace to make things easier for Anne. "Arthur only just told me before the meeting."

"Why didn't you stop him?" Merlin asks, almost accusingly.

Amelia scoffs, stopping, which causes the others to do so as well. "Trust me. I tried. Everything had already been signed off by the time I got wind of it."

Anne looks at her husband. "How come you didn't know any of this, Merlin? Did Arthur not say anything?"

"He didn't." Merlin replies.

Amelia rolls her eyes. "Probably because it's 'confidential'."

"He just- he can't do this." Merlin utters in disbelief.

"He's the King, Merlin. He can." And with that, Amelia strides off leaving the two of them alone.

——

Arthur, Amelia, Agravaine, the Court, the Council, the Knights and everyone else is gathered on the steps leading to the Castle for the arrival of Princess Mithian. An armed Guard enters the Square preceding ahead of her. The party halts once they are in the centre.

"Knights of Nemeth, Camelot welcomes you and extends the hand of friendship." Arthur greets them.

The Guards in front move aside and allow the Princess to approach, Arthur steps down the stairs, taking a breath as he prepares to meet his future bride. Princess Mithian raises her veil and Arthur's jaw drops, stunned by her beauty, frozen.

As Amelia remembers, she is beautiful. Like, breathtaking, impeccable, beautiful. Her dark hair cascades down her shoulders accompanied by innocent, doe brown eyes. Her porcelain skin is clear and smooth, her thin lips gracing into a smile.

A Guard helps her dismount and, once down, Mithian stands there expectingly, staring at a frozen Arthur, who hasn't moved.

Amelia sighs. Incompetent. Amelia moves down the stairs, towards Mithian. "Mithian, it's been years!" She greets her with a tight smile, she may not want Arthur to marry Mithian but she is happy to see her again. Amelia gives her a warm hug, which the Princess reciprocates.

Mithian sends Amelia a coy smile as they pull back. "It is good to see you, Amelia." She replies pleasantly but there's something almost secretive underneath that contrasts with her voice's pleasant tone.

Amelia blushes slightly. "I'm sure you've heard that I'm engaged."

Mithian simply grins. "Of course. I offer you, my congratulations."

Arthur is able to collect himself and steps forward, joining them. "Princess Mithian, you are most welcome." He greets, flustered.

"Thank you, Your Highness." Mithian replies. "I have heard much about you, and you are more handsome in person than reports suggested."

Arthur isn't sure how to handle the compliment. "Erm..."

"Are we to stay in this chill all day?" Mithian remarks amusedly.

Amelia lets out a quiet snort at Mithian's comment. The Princess immediately catches it and sends another coy smirk in Amelia's direction.

Arthur looks at her confused. "Forgive me." Arthur takes her hand and faces his welcoming committee. Amelia slots in beside Mithian. "Tomorrow there will be a great feast to welcome our worthy friends."

Everyone applauds and smiles. Amelia feels hesitant to, almost as if she's betraying Gwen if she does.

——

Anne's POV

"I just don't understand." Anne muses as she pokes at her food at breakfast the next day. "In Amelia's dream, Gwen was being crowned Arthur's Queen. It had the power to get through her healing bracelet, so it must've been powerful. How can Gwen become Queen if he marries Princess Mithian?"

Merlin sighs from where he sits across from her. "I don't know. I thought it was Arthur's fate to marry Gwen. Are we supposed to do anything about it?"

"Gaius would berate us for trying to interfere." Anne points out, frowning as she leans back in her chair with her hand resting on her protruding stomach. "And Arthur would throw us both out of Camelot if we tried as well. Besides, Amelia has tried to argue against to Arthur and he still won't change his mind."

Merlin groans in annoyance. "So, what should we do?"

"I don't know." Anne admits. What can they do?

——

Amelia's POV

The Court dines on a feast. Arthur chats with Princess Mithian at the head of the table. Amelia shifts uncomfortably from where she sits on Arthur's other side as the two talk, smile and laugh together. Amelia likes Mithian, they've gotten on well with each other before, but she doesn't like the reason she's here in Camelot, and doesn't like Arthur flirting with her.

The only person here who shares her frustrations is Merlin. Anne hasn't been serving any feasts for a while now, but she usually attends them at least but the baby has been kicking her relentlessly today so she hasn't attended so that she can rest.

It is then Merlin casually strolls to the head of the table to interrupt them. "Would you like more soup, Sire?"

"No, thanks." Arthur says dismissively before turning back to Mithian.

"You sure?" Merlin presses.

Arthur leans forward, across Amelia who pulls a face, she glances at Mithian to see she's grinning and Amelia allows herself to smile back.

She's brought back to what's happening when Arthur harshly whispers, "Merlin, you've asked me that three times now. Will you just..." He makes a frustrated face, telling him to 'go away'.

Merlin's gaze flickers over to Amelia, and she shoots him a look that tells him to just leave it alone. He nods and walks away.

Mithian put a hand on Arthur's arm, regaining his attention. "You were saying?"

"I... was very surprised." Arthur begins to say when suddenly his hand flips a spoonful of soup onto his chainmail.

Amelia stifles a laugh. She looks over at Merlin and the twinkle in his eye confirms that he used his magic to make Arthur do that in hopes that it would make him look like a fool in front of Mithian.

"Er...sorry, I, erm..." Arthur stammers as he begins to stand to clean himself up, but Mithian puts down her goblet and wipes Arthur's chainmail with her napkin.

"No harm done." She chuckles at the situation and Arthur regards her warmly. They share a poignant look and Amelia rolls her eyes.

It ends and Mithian turns her beaming smile to Amelia. "Amelia, I have been fortunate to speak with your fiancé. You're lucky indeed."

Amelia smiles. "Thank you."

"Arthur speaks about him in glowing terms." Mithian adds.

Amelia feels her smile dip as she sends a dark look at Arthur, who sits between them. "I wouldn't find that reassuring."

There's an awkward pause as Arthur looks ready to bury himself in a hole while Mithian just looks lost on what to say. Thankfully, Agravaine approaches them and disrupts the moment. Amelia hates that she is now often finding herself being happy when Agravaine appears, this shouldn't become a habit.

"The Vaults are secure, My Lord, and, er... there were no plans missing." Amelia and Arthur's uncle reports. This causes Amelia to pause. What plans? Why did they think the Vaults wouldn't be secure?

"Thank you for performing your duties with such haste, Uncle. Now you have to make up for lost time. We're to have dancing," Arthur looks at their uncle with a smirk, "and I hear that your... jig used to be something to behold."

"Er... 'used' is the word, Sire. A-alas I am not as nimble as I once was." Agravaine says, flustered. Amelia smirks, she'd gladly see him make a fool of himself.

"Nonsense."

"I do feel that dancing is best performed in youth and appreciated in age." Agravaine hastily departs.

——

After the feast is over, Amelia is making her way back to her Chambers when Arthur stops her in the corridor.

"What is it, your Majesty?" Amelia asks shortly, returning to using his official title. "It has been a very long day and I wish to retire."

"The way you were speaking to me in front of Princess Mithian." Arthur says, ignoring her biting tone. "I do not like it."

"That sounds like a 'you' problem." Amelia retorts and turns to keep walking.

Arthur follows after her, grabbing her arm and forcing her to stop. Amelia angrily rips her arm away from him.

Arthur sighs. "I realise that you are upset with me, Amelia. I know that, and I know I do not deserve to be forgiven for what I did to you. But Princess Mithian is our guest here, and I expected that we would at least be cordial with each other."

Amelia glares at him. "You turned your back on me, thought I could be a traitor, chose everybody over me at any given opportunity, banished my best friend, didn't let me say goodbye to her and you want me to be cordial, Arthur?!" Amelia thunders. She shakes her head at him. "I cannot believe you."

Amelia turns to leave when his voice stops her. "Will we ever get over this?"

Amelia doesn't look at him over her shoulder as she replies, "I don't know." This time when she walks away, he doesn't stop her.

——

The next day, Arthur continues to woo Mithian by taking having breakfast as a picnic for some reason. Merlin had tried to embarrass Arthur once more by using his magic to make Arthur burp but it doesn't work as Mithian does her own big belch. Honestly, Amelia should've told Merlin that would happen considering that apparently she and Mithian used to do burping matches and Mithian often won.

Amelia largely avoids the two for most of the day as she doesn't want Mithian to be caught up in the animosity Amelia currently has for her cousin. However, the day after that is the Festival of Ostara accompanied by the traditional hunt where Amelia will not be able to avoid being around the two.

"Ready for the hunt?" Amelia hears a familiar voice remark from behind her in the Phoenix Corridor. She turns to see Mithian grinning.

"Of course." Amelia returns her grin. "Wouldn't miss it."

Mithian's smile dims as she turns serious. "I can't help but notice things are tense with Arthur."

Amelia's jaw tense as she's reminded of why she's been avoiding Mithian. "I do not know what you mean."

Mithian scoffs. "Come on, Amelia. We've known each other long enough for me to notice and you're not being subtle about it."

Amelia doesn't reply, looking away from her.

This doesn't deter Mithian. "I will not pretend I know why or understand whatever it is between the two of you, but your opinion matters so much to him." Amelia scoffs. "No, it's true. You matter so much to him. I have heard of the special place that Arthur holds you in ever since Morgana betrayed you all, so imagine my surprise when I see the hostility between you two when I arrived." She draws a breath. "It is not my place to interfere with your relationship to Arthur, but he values your opinion more than you really know." Mithian twiddles with her fingers. "I like him, Amelia. I really do. I didn't expect to, but... well, he's a lovable person, isn't he? Underneath it all. All I ask is that the two of you talk it out and find some middle ground. Can you do that?"

Amelia sighs, turning to Mithian. "I'm not forgiving him, but I suppose I'll be less antagonistic with him for you." Amelia smiles with a nod and Mithian smiles back.

"Thank you."

——

The hunting horns sound as the hunting party make their way through the woods.

"Deer!" Leon cries.

Amelia quickly urges her horse into a canter as she joins the chase after the doe running through the woods.

Amelia slows down her horse along with the others as they near the doe when she hears Merlin's voice in her head say, "It's Gwen."

Her head snaps towards Merlin, who stands at the edge of the group. "What?"

"The doe, it's Gwen."

Amelia's eyes widen in panic. Oh, no.

She watches in alarm as Arthur aims and the doe stops and looks at them. Amelia hears what sounds like Gwen's weeping. Amelia's eyes flash and sees a tearful Gwen in her mind's eye.

"I've got it." Merlin says just as Arthur shoots. The bolt suddenly veers off course and misses. Arthur gives his crossbow a confused look.

"I thought you were a good shot, My Lord." Mithian remarks, aiming and firing before either Amelia or Merlin can stop it. Amelia winces as she hears the bolt land out of sight. "Gold sovereign says she's hit."

Everyone immediately gets off their horses as they begin searching for traces of the injured doe while Merlin and Amelia look frantically around for Gwen.

"Deer tracks." Leon spots, kneeling on the ground in a clearing.

"Ah. It can't have gone far." Arthur remarks.

Amelia's eyes frantically dart around the woods for any sign of the doe or Gwen with Merlin beside her doing the same while Arthur searches for more deer tracks. It is then that Amelia sees Arthur reach down and pick up something shiny from the forest floor. Amelia stops breathing when she realises what it is, and Arthur seems to recognise it as well. It's Gwen's engagement ring on a bit of string meaning Gwen must've been wearing it as a necklace. Oh, Gwen.

Mithian walks into the clearing at that moment. "Have you found the trail? My Lord?"

Arthur doesn't respond, staring at the ring, completely lost in it. Amelia is unable to say anything, frozen as she watches Arthur.

"My Lord?"

Arthur looks up at Merlin and Amelia, trying to process the pain of this shock. Merlin breathes heavily and continues to roam his eyes around the woods worried for Gwen while Amelia, for the first time in a while, looks at Arthur with a sympathetic gaze.

Mithian looks at them and back to Arthur, sensing something's wrong. "My Lord?"

Arthur stares off into the woods, breathing heavily in his emotion. "There'll be no more sport today." Arthur gets up and walks past Mithian, lost in his own head.

"I didn't take you for a poor loser, Sire." Mithian tries to joke in an attempt to bring his attention back to her as he passes but he continues walking.

Mithian looks back at Merlin and Amelia, confused. Amelia looks away from her, unable to bring herself to say anything.

——

Amelia and Merlin return to the woods that night, searching for Gwen.

"Gwen! Gwen!"

Amelia joins in. "Gwen! Gwen!"

There's no response.

Amelia looks at Merlin. "Come on." She dismounts and goes searching for Gwen on foot with Merlin following.

"Gwen?" Merlin calls as they move through the woods.

Amelia spots something and picks up the pace. "Gwen? Gwen?"

They find her lying unconscious, shaking from cold and shock, with a crossbow bolt in her leg.

Merlin pulls out the arrow and places his hand over the wound. "Ic hæle þina þrowunga."

Amelia places a hand on Gwen's shoulder and eventually, she sighs and stops shaking, relaxing into sleep.

——

Amelia and Merlin sit with Gwen as she sleeps. Amelia is relieved when she wakes.

"Merlin! Amelia!" Gwen exclaims in happy surprise.

Amelia beams back while Merlin grins and says, "How are you, Gwen?"

"I'm all right!" She hugs them happily. "I think." She pulls back. "What are you doing here?"

"You were injured, Gwen." Amelia tells her. The fever and being enchanted must've made Gwen a bit disorientated.

The memories seem to be coming back to Gwen. "Oh, yes, I remember now. Where's Morgana?"

Amelia's head immediately darts around as if her sister is going to appear any second.

"She was here?" Merlin asks tightly.

Gwen nods. "She enchanted me. She and the Southrons and Helios, they're planning to attack Camelot."

Amelia frowns as she thinks over her sister's new scheme. "They'd never succeed. They must know that."

Gwen shakes her head. "They have help. Agravaine gave them plans of the siege tunnels under the Citadel." She reveals. Of course...

"Agravaine?" Merlin repeats. Gwen nods. "We must tell Arthur."

There's a sudden noise that causes Gwen to tense. "What's that?"

Amelia realises it's the sound of hoof beats drawing near as Merlin gets up to check and he smiles a little.

"It's a Camelot patrol. They can lend you a horse." Merlin tells them. Merlin tries to grab Gwen's hand and pull her with him.

"No."

Amelia's head snaps to her. "But Gwen—"

"Please." She grabs their hands to stop them. "I can never see Arthur again."

"He wants to see you." Merlin insists.

Gwen shakes her head. "It cannot be. Not after I betrayed him. You two go. Tell him of the danger."

Amelia shakes her head frantically. "If they find you..."

"I have what I deserve." Gwen replies.

"No, Gwen, you can't—"

"Go! Hurry."

Amelia sighs. "Then promise me you'll go to Hunith, Gwen. To Ealdor. At least we know you're safe."

Gwen nods. "Okay. Now go."

Amelia and Merlin reluctantly leave.

——

Before heading out to find Gwen, Amelia and Merlin had promised Anne they would find Gwen and bring her home. So, Anne is surprised and upset when they come walking into Anne and Merlin's Chambers without Gwen.

"Where is she?!" Anne demands as soon as they walk in.

"She would not come back." Merlin answers, softly, trying to calm her.

"Then you should've dragged her here!"

"Anne, we tried but we couldn't force her to do something that she didn't want to do." Amelia explains.

Anne sighs, rubbing her back as she paces. "You're right, I'm sorry. I just worry so much about her. Is she okay? She's not hurt, is she?"

"She was, but I healed her." Merlin replies. Anne relaxes at that. "But that's not the important bit. She saw Morgana. She said that she and the Southrons are planning to attack Camelot."

"Well, that's stupid." Anne scoffs. "They'd never succeed."

"That's what I said but Gwen says Agravaine gave them plans of the siege tunnels under the citadel." Amelia says darkly.

"Oh my God." Anne breathes, putting a hand to her stomach. She covers her mouth with her hand. "They'll overtake us within less than an hour."

"That's why we have to go warn Arthur." Merlin says.

Amelia rolls her eyes. "I doubt he'll listen; he's especially not going to believe it if it's coming from me, not after the way I've been going after Agravaine this entire time."

"He might listen to Merlin." Anne gives him a little push. "Go. Warn him."

——

Arthur, of course, doesn't believe Merlin. The plans seem to still be there, so Arthur is furious at Merlin for daring to accuse his beloved uncle of treason. Though it seems Arthur hasn't been in a good mood since the hunt. According to Merlin, Arthur has been brooding in his Chambers all night. Merlin practically begged Amelia to go talk to him, and even though she didn't want to, she finds herself at his door, knocking.

When there is no answer, Amelia contemplates just leaving, but she pushes the door open and walks in. Arthur is sitting on the end of his bed, fully dressed in his chainmail. In his hands is Gwen's engagement ring. He plays with it as he stares at nothing.

Amelia clicks my tongue, causing him to look over at her. "Now this is a sorry sight." She remarks scathingly as she approaches him. "You look absolutely terrible. Mithian might not find you attractive anymore."

Arthur doesn't answer. She's surprised by his lack of response. Amelia pauses beside him, putting her hands behind her back. "Merlin said that you weren't talking to him so he's practically begged me to come see you, thinking I could help for some reason." Arthur is still avoiding her gaze, so Amelia leans to the side a little to get him to look at her. "So... do you need my help with anything?" She huffs.

"How can I love someone who's betrayed me?" Arthur asks in a small voice, it's rough from being unused. "It doesn't make any sense. And how can I make myself love another?" He finally looks at Amelia. "Tell me that."

Amelia sighs, sitting down next to him. "I can't tell you what to do or how to feel. Annoyingly." Amelia begins, rising a slight laugh from Arthur. "If you truly love Gwen and think that you can get past this, then you should be with her. But if you have any doubts about her, there can be no relationship between the two of you. And Mithian is a wonderful woman who cares about you. But if you do love Gwen and you don't love Mithian, then you need to tell Mithian that. It's not fair to condemn her to a relationship where she thinks that love will grow when you know it never will."

"But how do I know what to do, Amelia? I don't know what to do. I have no idea... what to do." Amelia watches Arthur struggle.

Amelia reaches over and takes his hand in hers causing Arthur to startle and look at her in surprise. She narrows her eyes at him to say, 'don't you dare say anything' and he wisely doesn't.

"You have to listen to your heart, Arthur." Amelia says. "It may lead you down the wrong path sometimes, but when it comes to love, it knows exactly what it's doing. If you and Gwen are meant to be, you'll find each other."

Arthur looks back down at the ring and slips his hand out of Amelia's, only to lean forward and pull her into a hug. Amelia blinks in numb surprise as he holds onto her tightly. "I'm so sorry for what I did that day." He mumbles into her shoulder. "I am sorry that I didn't let you say goodbye to Guinevere. I was hurt and angry and I took that out on you. I will not be able to atone for that for the rest of my life, and I do not expect you to forgive me either."

Amelia is in an even stronger state of shock. Arthur apologising? She doesn't know what to say so she awkwardly pats him on the arm.

When Arthur pulls away, he says, "I've put you through so much this past year, when you didn't deserve any of it. I did not expect you to forgive me for anything that I've done, but you kept doing so because you have a good heart. But this... this I will accept never receiving your forgiveness."

"You're right, it shouldn't be that easy, but I might forgive you if you convince my fiancé that we should have our wedding sooner rather than later." Amelia remarks, smirking.

Arthur chuckles wetly. "I can do that."

She hasn't forgiven him, but maybe- maybe she could? It's a step in the right direction anyway.

——

Arthur ultimately cancels the wedding. Mithian decides to leave as soon as possible and Amelia honestly does not blame her though she is sorry to see her go. Amelia waits with Arthur outside in the Square for Mithian along with everyone else just as they had done when Mithian arrived. Mithian's escort waits for her in the Square as she descends the steps.

She stops beside Amelia, completely ignoring Arthur. She takes Amelia's hand, giving her a soft, secretive smile. "It was a pleasure to see you again, Amelia, and I do hope you come to visit me in Nemeth soon, it has been too long since your last visit."

Amelia returns her soft, secretive smile and squeezes her hand. "Of course, I will."

Mithian nods and turns to leave but Arthur speaks, "Princess." She stops but doesn't turn around as she puts on her riding gloves. "Forgive me."

Mithian turns to face him. "The time for words is over, Sire."

Arthur nods, accepting her harsh words. "I understand. And it is for this reason that I hereby offer you and your descendents all the disputed lands of Gedref."

"You would give up your ancient claims?" Mithian asks in disbelief.

"I have no desire for war. Or to grieve you any more than I already have." Arthur replies.

Mithian is still hesitant to accept. "Such an offer cannot be rushed into."

"I've had my scribes draw up an agreement." Arthur pulls out a scroll. "If you're happy with the terms, I'll sign forthwith."

"And if I refuse?"

"It's all I can offer. I do so most humbly." He bows his head and looks down, then looks her in the eye and holds out the scroll, waiting for her response.

Mithian considers him for a moment and then takes the scroll. "Tell me... who is it that trumps a Princess?"

Amelia smiles slightly, of course, Mithian noticed.

"No one." Arthur thinks for a moment. "And everyone." Aw.

Mithian's mood lightens. "What great family is she from?"

"...none." Arthur admits. "She's the daughter of a blacksmith."

Mithian is surprised but also looks a bit touched. "And for her you would risk your kingship? Your Kingdom?"

"Without her, they're worth nothing to me."

Mithian considers this and looks down. "Hm." Amelia watches Mithian's reaction. "I would give up my own Kingdom to be so loved." She glances at Amelia for a moment before turning back to Arthur. "Farewell, Arthur."

Arthur smiles a little. "Farewell, Princess."

Mithian gives him a small smile back and turns away with a bittersweet look. Amelia sadly watches her go.

——

A/N: Now we're in the two part finale!! Can't believe I'm here!

Please leave comments on how you're enjoying this story and what you think.

#bbc merlin #merlin

0 notes

fuckyeaharthuriana · 1 year ago

Text

SO KIND!!

@planetpunkx I am also a big Mordred and Morgana fan! I think to start it depends if you would like to start from old texts or modern retellings. I think for me a mix of both worked quite well, as some old texts can be quite harsh (to read!).

I will start with some modern novels focusing on Mordred or Morgana!

MORDRED

The winter prince (Elizabeth Wein) - more historical focused, character study

Idylls of the Queen (Ann Karr) - Also has an amazing Morgana. This is more of a classic "fantasy" like retelling and one of the best arthurian novels out there

I am Mordred (Springer)

The wicked day (Mary Stewart) - this is a pretty good one as it kinda summarizes the accepted canon/the most known canon for arthuriana and Mordred

The great Captains (Treece) - for a Welsh retelling of Mordred, so here he is not Arthur's son

Persia Woolley's Guinevere trilogy has also a very good Mordred, and it also uses the mostly known canon of arthuriana so it is a good starting point

MORGANA

The road to Avalon (Joan Wolf) - this focuses more on the romance between Arthur and Morgana, which is mainly born from the recent change of Mordred's mother from Morgause to Morgana, it is still quite a good book

I am Morgan Le Fay (Springer)

Idylls of the Queen (Ann Karr)

Lavinia Collins also wrote a Morgana book but I have not read it yet

You can also check here some of the books I have read, tagged by character.

For old texts, you can find all download links here:

and you can see that each text has a "main character" (the column is titled "Focusing on a character"). Unfortunately Mordred and Morgana do not have many old texts written on them, so I recommend to start with the classic Morte d'Arthur (Malory).

I can also recommend some good tv shows and movies:

The Mists of Avalon - while I am not a fan of the book, I think the miniseries still does a great job, and Morgana is the protagonist, with Mordred one of the main characters

The legend of King Arthur (BBC series) - this old tv show is probably one of the best arthurian shows if you can get past the costumes. It has Morgana as protagonist alongside Arthur and Guinevere, and Mordred among the main characters. If you want an introduction to the classic arthurian canon this is it!

Camelot (Starz tv shows) has one of the best Morgana out there

Let me know if you would like something more specific!!

i want to get more into arthuriana, specifically the tale of Mordred and Morgan le Fay, but I am completely lost, so can anyone recommend any texts or sources to start with?

#morgana #books #mordred #recs

95 notes · View notes

themorningtide · 5 years ago

Text

author’s note: final part to the short story I started in october. don’t judge me, it’s been a weird few months.

Part 1

Part 2

xxxXXXxxx

Arthur would like to believe Morgan remembers them. She does not, not exactly. She would not act so if she did; staring at each sibling in turn, searching for something familiar and the King feels her despair in the nails digging blood into his wrist. Whatever spell is woven upon her is a tapestry, covering all the thousand little moments they shared so many years before.

“You shouldn’t be here,” the half-Fae finally whispers (his cheek cradled in her fine hand, her remaining testing one of Morgause’s light curls). He cannot read her – not anymore – but he’d wager her mind is running through thoughts, one after the other, thinking seven moves ahead of him like she always had. He had had only had one until then. Find her. Now, he drowns in her presence and knows little else. “You do not belong,” her eyes narrow; she feels more real, more grounded, more her and human. “The world outside runs faster.”

“Much much faster.”

They are not alone. They are not safe.

Arthur steps back from his sisters only to finally realize that the remaining Fae have encircled the plateau with their bodies. Some have sat, some still speak with their companions, but their eyes never stray far. They are the bars of a cell which slowly tighten, and he feels like his connection to Camelot deems with every second.

In the middle, the throne still stands with its royal cargo.

The Queen’s smile is a knife against his spine.

“Do you know how long my cousin has dwelled between these trees, boy?” The crowned being looks so very amused and the shape she wears wavers underneath her distraction. Fingers sharp and thin like tree branches rest upon the arms of her chair and her hair is a thousand little serpents sliding through the cold air. “How long since I’ve taken her away from that prison you’ve all thrown her into? Two, three, ten years outside and here, here we dance for millennia, my people!”

The enclosing circle of beings cheer, swallowing his understanding with its clamor. Morgan is old, he realizes. Older than the boughs above their heads, than them, than their mother and father and Kingdom.

“Old enough to not answer to you,” the Fae completes, her voice meshing with his thoughts in an unwanted symphony.

They have abandoned her to ages without count. Alone.

His heart breaks all over again and Arthur, King, Knight, Brother, feels like crying like the children they had been.

“Tell me, my cousin. What say you?” Like a tree falling onto the ground, the Queen stands from her throne. Her arms, extended towards Morgan, are whitened branches, are brittle bone, are soft grey skin. And with her, the words resound like a shackle. My cousin. Mine. My own. Morgan is an adornment to this woman, he realizes; she is the light above them, the floor beneath their feet and so is every single one of those beings around them is, leashed together and to their ruler in this parody of a feast. A never-ending feast where happiness is a mask. “What do you say to this man?”

Morgan stares at her Queen, toneless eyes slowly gaining a blue edge. She steps forward, in front of them, tall like a reed and her shadow is a cloak upon their backs keeping them from all evil. If she shakes, Arthur cannot discern it (even if she did, they trained it out of her; no emotion beyond the mask, only revelry without end and fake laughter as song and dance).

“I remember the walls,” she whispers. Low and soft, it echoes through the suddenly frozen audience. “I remember screaming against them and no one came. Except you. You were in a mirror. You told me I would be free.”

It sounds as an accusation.

“And you have been,” the queen confirms with a simile of a kind smile. “Years and years, dancing underneath the stars.”

“But to which tune?” The woman counters, gaining steel in her tone, earning it with every step forward. “It felt my own. It felt to the stars. To the moon and the trees. And all I wished were for no walls. It felt right.” Many nod as she speak, swaying softly in the breeze like branches of the trees above them. “But then, why did I leave? I remember leaving. I remember searching. Why did I search? Do you know?”

Morgan turns her back to the Queen and walks. Walks past them, walks forward, arms raised as if searching for something invisible. She walks and walks, steps further and a little more and keeps walking against something. Some mist, perhaps? Whatever it is, it keeps her walking in the same place, beneath the boughs of the tress and in the Queen’s sight.

“Tell me!” She screams, white hair in the wind (little black strands whispering in) “Tell me I haven’t lost something I can’t get back! Why do I feel like this, like I am back between walls? What is this? Why have you come, come now, come here? Why have I stopped leaving? Why!”

She is lost, lost and his throat is a vice knot made of steel.

“I want to walk away.”

The light of the stars above them no longer feels joyous.

Elaine, little Elaine, slips past him and Morgause. She spares no attention for the Queen’s gaze, doesn’t bother to check for weapons (perhaps because she trusts him to), only cares for the lady who she lost so long before.

“You see,” she declares to their lost sibling and only to her, as if nothing else stands between them. “Morgause and Arthur have both feet there. Outside. They had to or we would have faded long ago into what they wanted us to be.” Elaine’s fingers are soft and gentle on their skin but when they tug, oh, it is with the strength of the wind. “But you and I can tiptoe back and forth. All we need is iron.”

The world around them flinches. A weapon is better when no one is aware of it.

“And not all iron needs to be real,” the princess’s voice sings gently at their ears. “Be it inside, in your mind, in your veins. Be strong, be real, be conscious. Look around, look up.” They do, audience, brother, sisters and only the Queen does not, her lovely smile caught in a snarl. “It is a forest, is it not? Not a cathedral. Not a Palace. Just the trees and the boughs. I can hear the leaves and there is no song which is more beautiful. Look, Morgan. There is the sky.”

Morgan’s head tilts up, her eyes (blue blue blue) searching through the darkness for the starlight.

“Look down, sister. We are here.”

And she does. At Elaine’s expression, mischievous as she always was (before; when a child; when with her). And.

The lights go out.

The forest sounds drive through, they silence the music and the crowd.

They stand in an empty clearing, all filled with the creatures whose magic swim in his sisters’ veins but the magic has run out. Has died like a blade has been driven into another’s skin. The Queen is still the Queen, still otherworldly and frightening but there is no light upon her skin, no amusement in her gaze. No. He would dare to think her angry as she stares upon the small group. Like a child throwing a tantrum when a favored toy is taken away.

“Morgan. You know what you are returning to.”

The half does not spare her a glance. Her gaze is upon her wrist, upon a hand that reaches into the air to grasp something invisible hanging between her and the queen. It cuts her skin. Blood drips. Slowly. Sluggishly.

There is a dent on her wrist. Tight like a vice.

“You knew I had never come to stay,” Morgan whispers slowly, every word dragged out of with tooth and nail. “There’s a part of me that does not belong here. It is why you weaved this, wasn’t it?” The blood dips onto the ground and each drop sounds like a bell. An harp string plucked by a talented musician.

Anger colors the Queen’s features. Sharp teeth slip past her façade and drag across a bloodied lip.

“I know your name, Morgan.”

“I know yours.” The crowd whispers, oh, oh, that is a true threat. Does she really know it? When has she learned? Will she share? Arthur moves to the side, a tall column of iron and man covering her back from any attack that is to come. If Morgan notices, she makes no mention of it. Her smile finally appears, and it is familiar as the air they breathe – Morgause’s at her sharpest. “You should be happy I am leaving, your Majesty,” the half continues. “Why, one might once see me crowned in flowers and oak.”

Her hand pushes at the invisible thread. Strongly, ripping apart a bandage that is no longer needed.

Snap.

The crash of broken glass in an empty room, it crashes through the air and brings the world to its heel. And the next thing Arthur knows, they alone stand in an empty clearing. The trees whisper above their heads, there is a little moonlight flitting through the leaves and branches.

In front of him is Morgan. Black haired, the woman stands straight, more solid, with traces of a healthy tan on smooth skin and tall and thin like a reed. Her clothes are old, made for someone much smaller and barely covering her form. Her eyes – blue, blue, blue as a still lake, blue as the night sky, blue as his – waver nervously for the very first time as they rest on the small group of siblings.

“Thank you for coming for me,” she whispers. The child that had been abandoned so long before. “Even if I don’t remember.”

Arthur knows exactly what to say.

“Thank you for believing we would.”

Morgan smiles. It is not wide. It is small and fearful and pure.

When they hug, all four, all together, the world is remade anew.

#arthuriana #anne morgause #arthur pendragon #morgan le fay #elaine of garlot #of gorlois' inheritance #part 3 of 3

11 notes · View notes

kiwibirdlafayette · 5 years ago

Note

Which Morgause route you follow: good mother Morgause who simply fell in love with the wrong guy or abusive mother Morgause the Rapist? Or another line?

In general, I’d say probably perhaps a little of both?

I think the best way to describe Morgause in AoA is that she becomes misguided by her own hatred and anger because she definitely had started off as someone who could have been a good mother until she had been permanently separated from Morgan and Igraine because of Uther’s shit

When she meets/marries Lot, and has kids she tries to have good intentions with them but finds more of how she raises them to be driven by resentment towards Camelot. This results in there being quite a bit of abusive undertones in her actions in essentially aiming to shape her sons into her own army (not to the point of rape, however)

To an extent, Lot becomes somewhat of an unideal partner for her as he is unable to counteract her mentality, instead more or less validating it further

But yeah, while she does love her sons as a mother, it isnt exactly for the right reasons.

#i hope i answered it ok #her characters still a WIP so im open to feedback #arcadia of avalon #lafakiwi talks #arthuriana #morgause #anne morgause #asks #cukibola

9 notes · View notes

thepinkseat-askthemoonbunny · 4 years ago

Text

P***y is a hell of a drug

No, SERIOUSLY...I truly do not get it! Vagina has to be some powerful ass shit because there are way too many anecdotes to confirm it.

Henry VIII really divorced his wife, disowned his daughter, broke from Rome, created a whole ass religion and alienated England from the rest of Europe all because he wanted to bone Anne Boleyn. And after going through ALL THAT, he then beheaded her because he wanted to bone another woman.

Uther Pendragon tore his whole kingdom apart, WENT TO WAR, risked the lives of his men, tore a family apart, orphaned three kids, set up this entire chain of clusterfuck for his son and made a deal with a (half) devil all because he wanted to have sex with a woman WHO DIDN’T EVEN WANT HIM! Get it, she wanted to be left alone! And then he used magic to fuck her against her will anyway!

Malory’s Merlin, the OG of Merlins...get this y’all. This man is a powerful ass wizard, he’s a clairvoyant. Mans can see the fucking future and yet he still chases after his uninterested female student, lets her trick him into teaching her all his magic, and gets his dumb ass trapped in a fucking tree because he’s STUPID! On top of that, he FORESAW all this! He KNEW what would go down, and he did it anyway because he wanted to be a horny dumbass!

In fact, this is the core of the entire Arthurian mythos! Lancelot turned against his king, killed his own friends and started a war (again with the war) because he couldn’t keep his dick out of the queen. Arthur’s stupid ass BANGED HIS SISTER (to be fair to him, he didn’t know at the time) and literally conceived the kid that would murder him and fuck all his shit up because he couldn’t keep his dick IN his queen and wanted to put it somewhere else. In one version, Arthur had a daughter who gets her boyfriend put in danger because some other dude wanted her. 90 percent of the bad shit that happens only really happens because some dude was so thirsty for pussy!

Mark Antony turned against Rome because of Cleopatra.

Black Caesar, a historical African pirate had a whole setup going with a good buddy of his for about a decade or more and then he kills his best friend. Why? Because they were FIGHTING OVER A WOMAN!

The ENTIRE FUCKING TROJAN WAR, and BASICALLY ALL OF GREEK MYTHOLOGY! (lookin at you, ZEUS!)

And last but not least, ALL the countless legends of sailors drowning with mermaids, female spirits luring men to their deaths...dude! People have risked fortunes, lives, kingdoms, their own families for pussy! Maybe my virgin ass doesn’t get it, but you would think that vagina was this magical and powerful thing, it’s the damn Philosopher’s Stone of things! There are literally more references I can add but I’d be typing all day then and this post is long enough. Stay away from vagina, folks...that shit is dangerous.

9 notes · View notes

whumpookies · 4 years ago

Text

Within the flames

#morgause #aka ann #bbc merlin #merlin

5 notes · View notes

forthegothicheroine · 3 years ago

Note

I don't know if you've had this ask before, but I can't find it, so: I don't suppose you have any recs for really good Arthurian adaptations? I try to read the older texts but can't get into them, and the adaptations I've come across are in the 'I am Mordred' vein. (Apart from T. H. White, but I've read that.)

I can't blame you for having a hard time! The old texts are an acquired taste, to say the least (and I'm definitely no fan of Malory!) The most accessible of those is probably Sir Gawain and the Green Knight; I read the translation by Tolkein, which was a lot of fun. (You don't need to have read it to see the Green Knight movie, but as a Gawain fangirl I'm of course into it!) Same goes for The Wedding of Sir Gawain and Dame Ragnell, one of my favorite Beauty and the Beast stories. Those two poems together are what made me Team Gawain, out of all the knights!

What really got me into this whole thing was the musical Camelot and the movie with Richard Harris. This is my Arthur. This is the king I fell in love with. It's loosely based on TH White, but I like it better- the plot is a lot more concise, and while it's still not the most flattering depiction of Guenevere, it's a lot less openly contemptuous of her than White was; she actually gets a really sweet meet-cute with Arthur! For a trippier movie that covers more of the story, there's always John Boorman's Excalibur, which attempts to compress all of Morte D'Arthur into a couple hours. I think this is the adaptation that started the trend of merging Morgan and Morgause, which upsets some people but I find very understandable, and Helen Mirren as Morgana absolutely steals the show!

For books, I'm a big fan of the Squire's Tales series by Gerald Morris, another Gawain superfan. This YA series shows the glory and then the fall of Camelot, often (though not always) through the eyes of Gawain's mysterious squire Terrance. My favorites in the series are The Ballad of Sir Dinadan and The Princess The Crone and the Dung Cart Knight, but start at the beginning and read all the way through for the full narrative- they're all fast reads! If you want to get into I Am Mordred-style stories about one particular character, there's a heartbreakingly tragic Mordred in The Winter Prince by Elizabeth Wein, and a gritty detective Kay in Idylls of the Queen by Phyllis Ann Karr. If you want to read more direct adaptations of Mort D'Arthur, I would recommend the series Arthur Dies at the End by Jeffrey Wikstrom, an extremely irreverent retelling that's much more readable. (One volume is called Sir Tristan is Just Awful.) I'm sometimes into Malory adaptations and sometimes not- I wish more adaptations in general didn't feel bound to the Mayday massacre just because it was in Malory, it wasn't in most of the texts- but these are very good.

I strongly recommend the podcast Myths and Legends in general, but in particular I love their King Arthur episodes. They follow the Mort D'Arthur story, which once again is not my favorite, but they do it in entertaining detail with lots of depth of character. It's pretty harsh on Merlin, but hey, he got all of TH White to build him up, he can take it!

Finally, I would be remiss in not mentioning The Great Pendragon Campaign, an old rpg supplement that runs through the plot of everything from the pre-Arthur era to the fall of Camelot. I don't always agree with the choices they make of what to include, but it's an attempt to combine all the 'canon' sources into one continuous narrative. It's available on drivethrurpg.com as a pdf.

Followers, add anything you'd suggest!

#arthurian legend

58 notes · View notes

queer-ragnelle · 3 years ago

Text

Might fuck around & make a compilation post of Agravaine highlights in retellings. They’re few & far between but damn it I have found them.

#not sure the scale I would rate them on it’s my own opinion but #any version he doesn’t kill Morgause is automatically like an improvement over alternatives #the downside is if Agravaine is decent Gawain is usually shit idk what that’s about #Phyllis Ann Karr gets it tho she gets it

0 notes

subiysu-chan · 2 years ago

Text

About Anne-Marthe Dubut

She’s the third best-written character of the series...And boy, she is both an allie and an antagonist at the same time, which might be the hardest character type to do. Most of the times, the allies of the protagonist would either redeemed enemies, are the main protagonist or are traitors, but are allied to the protagonist BECAUSE, not in spite of, being morally abhorrant.

Now such a character type isn’t knew, and in the Arthurian cycles, Morgan and Morgause play these roles. Morgan le Fay main motivations are her incestuous affections for King Arthur, and Morgause wants to avenge her mother using Mordred as a weapon in her feud. Like them, Anne-Marthe isn’t a femme fatale, since her power doesn’t come from her sexuality. Like the femme fatale, she is a vile intrigant, but she uses her role as mother.

My main critique of this character is that...There should have been more obstacles to the Sanson family preserving it’s status quo. We do get some in the third volume, with the magistrates being sensible enough to not want to nominate a 7 YEAR OLD BOY executioner, and the other executioners from other dynasties and we even meet a member of a rivaling dynasty in Subyss (him being dumb is realistic, but plot-wise...it’s a bad decision). The legal age to be an executioner was 20, which means Charles was also underaged.

Otherwise, Anne-Marthe is an amazing character who drives the plot forward, her actions are sensible...Most of the time. She’s great, and again, we should have seen a bit more of her.

Also, her legacy is still relevant in Innocent Rouge. When this alternate version of Charlotte Corday meets Marie-Josephe, our punk executioner isn’t thrilled at the idea of matriarchy...Probably, because she lived in one. Yes, despite being a misogynists, Anne-Marthe is a matriarch, and her modus operandi is matriarchal, which is to raise violent sons, and then exploiting their violence for her own benefit. That is how typically how matriarcal societies work, and in a sense, patriarchy was a social advancement. Matriarcal societies tended to be very war-like and were rarely peaceful. Just like the typical matriarch, she isn’t kind to other females, seeing them as potential rivals to her alpha status. That is probably why she reacts to violently when Marie-Josephe defied her...Because, again, she is a tyrant who doesn’t take any kind of defiance for an answer. It doesn’t really matter if in this case, Marie-Josèphe actually saved the family from disgrace. That is why I think Anne-Marthe might have anti-social personality disorder.

#strong female characters #anne marthe dubut #innocent manga #meta

3 notes · View notes

legends-of-time · 9 months ago

Text

Amelia’s Story (BBC Merlin Story)

Chapter 46: The Darkest Hour Part Two

Masterlist

Amelia's POV

Amelia pulls Anne over to the fireplace in her Chambers where she wraps multiple blankets around her and begins to make a fire to keep the maid warm. Amelia shakes with panic as she hurriedly sets about doing her tasks, worrying about the well-being of Anne, her baby and Anne's premonition.

Anne soon calms and eventually stops shaking. Amelia crouches by her and grips her hand. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see the beginning of sunrise touching the hills and trees through her window.

"Anne..." Amelia calls hesitantly, "we mustn't worry." Amelia feels guilty as unlike Gwen and Anne, she doesn't have to worry about Percival as, other than the Dorocha going for him, he's not going to be sacrificing himself.

"But something terrible has happened to Merlin." Anne murmurs, forehead furrowed as she gazes into the fire.

"Does it feel like he's died?" Amelia asks. "You must know, just like I did with Morgause, if you've lost him."

"N-no, I-I do not feel that," Anne stutters, finally tearing her eyes away from the fire to Amelia, "but what if it will happen, what if it's soon?"

"You mean his intention to sacrifice himself for Arthur?" Amelia states rather than asks but Anne nods anyway. "Let's focus on the now, Merlin is alive and we need to have you checked over with Gaius just in case."

Anne nods. When they go to Gaius, the Physician is obviously concerned but reassures them that Anne and the baby are well.

——

Anne's POV

To distract herself from the worry about Merlin, Anne throws herself into caring for the victims of the Dorocha that litter Camelot's streets.

She covers the face of another victim on a litter a couple of Guards carry. She waves them off as Gwen approaches her.

"Is there really nothing to be done?" She asks.

Anne sighs and shakes her head. "There is no cure, Gwen. The Dorocha's touch spells death." The two of them walk up the street of the Lower Town.

"It's pointless." Gwen utters.

"You mustn't lose hope. We must trust Arthur and Merlin, they won't let us down." Anne declares strongly despite not feeling it.

"Arthur's not going to return, is he?" Gwen says. "The way he said goodbye, I knew..." She bites her lip as if to contain any tears threatening to spill.

Anne pauses in her walking and looks at her sorrowfully. "I felt that way with Merlin. The way he kissed me when he said his goodbyes..."

"How do you keep yourself sane?" Gwen wonders.

Anne smiles sadly and reaches forward to grip the maid's hand. "I don't, I just pray they'll find another way and if that doesn't work, distract myself."

Gwen nods understandingly as they begin to walk again before a small but weak teasing smile appears on her face. "Merlin must return so that you can tell him about the baby."

Anne's head whips around. "How do you know?!"

"It's your behaviour during the past few weeks." Gwen explains. "You have been throwing up so much, suddenly switching from wine to water, and I can't remember the last time you complained about the pain of your monthly."

Anne groans. "Gaius was only meant to know because he checked. Merlin was meant to be the first to find after, but no, you and Amelia had to work it out yourselves!"

Gwen giggles and Anne is glad they've found a light hearted moment among the gloom.

——

Amelia's POV

Amelia is in her Chambers at her desk, working on supplies, when she hears screaming from outside. She frowns and rushes over to a window near her Chambers that has a view of the front of the Castle to see the gates being closed by the Guards while people are trying to get through! Her eyes narrow, that had not been her instructions.

"Amelia!" Said woman turns to see Gwen and Anne hurrying around the corner.

"The Guards have been ordered to shut the City gates at dusk." Gwen informs Amelia.

"By who?"

"Who else?" Anne retorts, giving her a look.

"Agravaine. Where is he now?"

"In Council." Gwen tells her.

"Oh, is he?" Amelia remarks scathingly. "Well then, I feel rather insulted that they didn't invite the Regent of Camelot."

Anne smirks. "That's putting it lightly."

"Well then." Amelia turns and strides back the way the maids had come, heading for the Main Hall with the two at her heels. The Guards outside it saw them coming and immediately opened the doors for them.

"What do you think you are doing?" Amelia crosses her arms at the Council gathered around Agravaine.

"My Lady." The man simply greets her. If he had referred to her as niece, Amelia thinks she would've throttled him.

"I'd like an answer." Amelia raises her eyebrow, a perfect impression of Gaius' eyebrow of doom. "Now."

Agravaine clears his throat. "I was told that you were busy with Gaius and helping him with his supplies. I did not want to bother you and thought it best to see matters dealt with, without—"

"—without involving the Regent in discussions regarding their Kingdom?" Amelia gives him a look. "Is that what you were about to say?"

Agravaine's smile tenses, seeing the other Council members starting to shift. "Without disturbing you." He corrects.

"What disturbs me, uncle, is that you have given orders to close the City gates." Amelia swiftly replies.

"Yes." Agravaine agrees. "We have limited resources. As much as I would like to, we simply cannot feed and water the entire Kingdom—"

"And how is that your decision to make?" Amelia asks pointedly. "You do not know the resources of Camelot, nor do you know how her people band together in times of danger. As I recall, you haven't been in Camelot in more than 20 years."

"The people have a right to be protected." Gwen suddenly speaks out, agreeing with her. The maid looks uncomfortable when the Councillors look at her in surprise but Amelia gives her a nod of encouragement. "And, if you would recall, that is exactly the order Arthur, the Prince Regent, gave before departing to see this danger dealt with."

"I would be putting Camelot in more danger." Agravaine argues. "Starvation, disease. The gates will remain shut until we are free of the evil that plagues us."

Amelia looks at him intently, silently for a moment. "Do you forget who you are speaking to?" She asks him, her voice dropping to a dangerous note.

"I am forever aware." Agravaine gives her a tense, nearly testy reply back.

Amelia smirks, she thinks of how proud Morgana would've been at this moment but shakes those thoughts away and turns to her irritable uncle. "Good, then you will recall that not only am I a lady of Camelot, but also her Regent. And this," she holds up her hand with its back to him, showing him the ring she wears, "means that while the Crown Prince is away, it is my responsibility to rule and make decisions for the Kingdom while the King is indisposed. That is... unless you have forgotten that you are his uncle, his maternal uncle, and not the Regent."

"I have not forgotten." Agravaine's hands clenched into fists at being put in place like this.

Since this is as good a time as any, Amelia turns to Gwen, encouraging her to speak. Might as well let the Council see who their future Queen is.

"A Kingdom cannot function, cannot prosper, without the peasants who live within it." Gwen adds. "Without their work and wares and support a Kingdom will fall. And we cannot see that happen to Camelot. We cannot turn away any person who comes to our gates for help. We cannot let them suffer. We should help them if it at all possible, and it is possible."

Amelia gives the men a warning look. "And if it is not... we will find a way to make it so. Is that clear?" She shoots a look at Agravaine, daring him to speak up against her, but the man wisely remains silent.

"I have faith in my cousin, that he shall see this evil stopped." Amelia looks at each man before her. "What you need to ask yourselves is if you have faith in your Prince. For if you do not... I see no reason for you to remain on this Council for a Council cannot advise well if it does not trust their ruler. You will forever doubt and question him, and that will make for an unstable Kingdom as well. Think long and hard on this before you dare question your Prince's decisions. What have you to say?" Amelia finishes with a challenging smile on her face.

"Reopen the gates." Geoffrey speaks. Other Council members nod, making it clear this is what all of them are thinking.

Agravaine nods curtly and storms out of the room, most displeased though none seem to care much.

"The Council is dismissed then." She waits till the men trickled out of the room before slumping in relief in the nearest chair. "God..."

Anne immediately begins to cheer and clap. "You two were brilliant! Amelia, remind me to never get on your bad side!"

Amelia chuckles at the display and Gwen fondly shakes her head.

——

Anne's POV

Gaius, Gwen and Anne use cloths to cover bodies that litter the Lower Town the next morning.

"How many did we lose last night?" Gwen wonders as they begin to walk over to another victim lying in a cart.

"Ten, fifteen? I don't know, I lose count." Gaius replies as they place the cloth over the body.

Anne sighs, she strokes her stomach to provide herself and perhaps her unborn child some comfort. "Think of the number that would've been killed if the gates had been locked. It was good thing that Amelia spoke out."

Suddenly they hear the sound of a horse's hooves hitting the ground and Agravaine comes charging past on his horse in the direction of the gates. The trio stare after him in confusion and suspicion.

"Don't you think it's strange at a time like this to be adventuring out alone?" Gwen murmurs.

"Indeed." Gaius murmurs.

——

Agravaine's POV

Agravaine rides through the woods to Morgana's hovel. "My lady?" He calls out as he enters to find Morgana brooding in a chair by the fire.

"What news of the mighty Camelot?" Morgana asks mockingly.

"As we planned." Agravaine reports, taking off his gloves so he can warm them by the fire. "The City's falling to rack and ruin."

"And Arthur?"

"Last we heard, he'd made it past Daelbeth."

Morgana grumbles irritably, "Will we never be rid of him?"

"Patience, my lady. Even if he makes it to the Isle, the outcome will still be the same." Agravaine reassures her.

"Then what brings you here so early?" Agravaine feels uncomfortable as Morgana watches him closely. "Something's wrong."

Agravaine realises he's been caught out. "A minor irritant." He admits, walking to stand behind Morgana. "Amelia. She takes it upon herself to speak out against me."

"My sister is dangerous." Morgana murmurs.

Her words encourage Agravaine to speak, "I fear that she'll soon suspect me, if she hasn't already. Maybe something should be done about her?"

Morgana abruptly stands, she turns and points a dagger at his throat with a glare. "My sister may have fallen down the wrong path, but I will not directly harm her and nor should you!"

Agravaine is alarmed. "There's someone else..." He hurriedly says, fearing his niece's next action.

Morgana relaxes and brings down the dagger. "Who?" She questions as she walks to a table to place the dagger.

"Guinevere. Keeps undermining the authority of those above her despite being just a servant." Agravaine eagerly replies, relieved her anger is no longer on him. "A spirited one, perhaps, but a servant nonetheless."

"No, you're wrong." Morgana spits. "I have dreamt the future and, in it, that servant sits upon my throne." She walks up to him. "I would rather drown in my own blood than see that day."

"Then may I suggest we make sure it never comes."

Morgana grins darkly. "I couldn't agree more. We must make sure she never sees another dawn."

——

Gwen's POV

Gwen finishes tending to Uther. The King has been more alert, questioning where his son is. She doesn't have the heart to tell him, fearing it'll make it all real.

Gwen moves to leave the room and is surprised to see Agravaine leaning on Uther's table, clearly waiting for her.

"Your devotion to the King is most impressive." He comments. Gwen sees a slight hesitation in him as he stands straight. "There is something I would like to discuss. I wish to apologise. Yesterday I feel I let the Prince down. I am grateful that you spoke out."

Gwen looks at him curiously. Shouldn't he be saying this to Amelia? Maybe he'd already talked with her?

Gwen shakes these thoughts off and replies, "I did not mean to be discourteous, My Lord. I just did not want the Lady Amelia to not be consulted."

"Well, you weren't. Not in the least." Agravaine smiles but it doesn't give Gwen any comfort, if anything it makes her feel more awkward. "Gwen, if you would permit, I would be grateful to seek your advice. On how to make it up to my niece and to better support her."

Gwen's jaw drops. Her?

"You've known Amelia for many years and understand the people." Agravaine concludes.

"I am not sure I—"

"If nothing else, I know that you will be honest with me." Agravaine persists.

Gwen smiles at the truth of that statement.

"It's not appropriate to talk now. Perhaps... this evening. You could come to my Chambers." Arthur and Amelia's uncle suggests.

Gwen isn't so sure about that. Something about this makes her uncomfortable. She opens her mouth to protest, but Agravaine cuts her off.

"Please, Guinevere, these are dark times. I'm gonna need help if I'm to assist my niece in guiding us through them." He pleads.

"Very well." Gwen relinquishes.

Agravaine smiles. "Thank you."

Gwen smiles back just as Amelia enters from behind Agravaine, who gives his niece a nod and exits.

"Is everything all right?" Amelia asks. She keeps throwing suspicious looks over her shoulder despite Agravaine no longer being there. She must be feeling mistrustful of her uncle since the whole City Gates situation.

"Yes. He wishes to speak with me later. I think he means to seek my council." Gwen replies. This doesn't seem to reassure Amelia. If anything, she looks more suspicious.

Eventually, Amelia seems to relax and nods. Gwen smiles as she exits. She misses Amelia watching her leave with pensive concern.

——

Amelia's POV

Amelia knows that Gwen plans to return to Uther's Chambers later that night after talking with Agravaine. Amelia had been suspicious ever since Gwen had said that her uncle had wanted to talk with her and her suspicions rise when she walks into the Chambers to find Uther asleep on top of the bed sheets and no candles lit.

"Gwen?" Amelia calls but she receives no answer.

Amelia's next stop is Agravaine's Chambers as she knows that's where Gwen last was.

She knocks on the door and Agravaine call, "Enter."

Amelia opens the door and walks in. She finds her uncle has removed his jacket and seems to be settling in for the night.

"Amelia, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

Amelia feels satisfied as she takes in her uncle's irritated expression.

Amelia purses her lips. "Actually, uncle, I was looking for Gwen. I understand you were to speak with her."

"I'm sorry for your wasted journey. She left some time ago. Have you tried the King's Chambers?" Agravaine replies breezily.

Amelia can tell he's lying, something tugs at her gut. "She hasn't been there all evening despite promising me she would be since I was busy this evening. It's most unlike her." She says pointedly.

"She can't have gone far."

Amelia knows she isn't getting anywhere and this is wasting time. "Of course. Forgive me for disturbing you, uncle." She quickly leaves.

She grabs a torch and enters the Lower Town to see if Gwen had made it home safely.

"Gwen?" Amelia calls but receives no answer.

Amelia hears a Dorocha as she approaches Gwen's house causing her to glance around anxiously. She sees something in the distance and walks forward to see it's a frozen faced Guard on the floor. Amelia looks away and sees Gwen lying near the Guard. Amelia rushes towards her in alarm and checks Gwen's face. To Amelia's relief, she's still warm.

Suddenly, the sound of a Dorocha heading straight for them reaches Amelia's ears. She spins around and fends it off with the torch.

——

Amelia hurriedly brings Gwen, with the assistance of some extra Guards admittedly, to Gaius' Chambers where the Physician and Anne wait.

"What happened?!" Anne exclaims in alarm as Amelia and the Guards hurry inside with a still unconscious Gwen.

"I do not know." Amelia admits. "Put her here." She orders the Guards, who put Gwen on the sick bed Amelia points to before leaving.

Gaius walks over to observe. "She seems to have a head wound. How did you find her?"

"She was lying on the floor unconscious in the Lower Town. A couple Guards were lying next to her, they'd been killed by the Dorocha." Amelia explains.

Anne turns to Gaius frantically. "Is she alright?"

"It's a simple surface wound, she'll be fine." He reassures as he begins to treat the wound.

After a few moments, Gwen groans awake. Amelia sighs in relief to see her friend awake.

"What happened?" Gwen mumbles.

"We were hoping you'd tell us that." Amelia replies.

Gwen frowns in thought. "I remember the Guards walking me to my door. And then... nothing."

"Just a surface wound. You were very lucky." Gaius tells her.

"Everyone talks about the coldness, but I don't feel cold at all." Gwen murmurs.

"You weren't attacked by the Dorocha, Gwen." Anne tells her.

"Then what?" Gwen must see the looks of concern on their faces as she pushes with a "What?"

"I fear someone wanted to do you harm." Gaius admits.

"Why?"

"I don't know."

Amelia knows that Morgana would happily put Gwen in harm's way as she perceives the maid to be in the way of her taking the throne. The fact that Gwen just happens to be harmed and for that to happen after Gwen had talked to Agravaine...

"Well, surely if they did, they'd have done a better job." Gwen argues disbelievingly. Amelia doesn't blame her for not wanting to believe someone is out there trying to get her.

"Maybe. But cold-blooded murder is suspicious. Better to leave you to the Dorocha." Gaius replies.

——

Merlin's POV

As Merlin and Lancelot sleep in the Hunter's Lodge for the night on their journey to rejoin Arthur and the Knights, Merlin is awoken by the sensation of the Dorocha approaching. As soon as it appears, Merlin frantically wakes Lancelot and throws the last of his alcohol into the dying grate fire causing it to burst into flames to allow them a chance to run outside into the pitch dark. Merlin calls for Kilgharrah as the Dorocha chases them through the dark woods. Suddenly, a fireball shoots out of the sky, getting rid of a bunch of them.

Kilgharrah flames another Dorocha and lands in front of them in a clearing. Lancelot steps forward to strike the Dragon, but Merlin holds out a hand to stop him.

"It's alright. It's alright." He reassures. Merlin looks up at Kilgharrah and gives him a little bow. "Thank you."

"Who is your friend?" Kilgharrah questions angrily.

"I'm Lancelot." The Knight replies.

Kilgharrah calms. "Of course. Sir Lancelot, the bravest and most noble of them all."

"I'm not sure that's true."

"We shall see." Kilgharrah dismisses. "For now, there are more pressing things at hand. The Dorocha cannot be allowed to remain in this world. The sundered veil must be restored."

"We're on our way to the Isle of the Blessed to help Arthur heal it." Lancelot tells him.

"Indeed. But at what price?"

"I know that the spirit world demands a sacrifice." Merlin says.

"It demands nothing. It is the Cailleach, the gatekeeper to the spirit world who asks such a price." Kilgharrah corrects.

"And there is no other way?" Merlin wonders. He hopes there is. Maybe he won't have to leave Anne after all.

"There is not." Kilgharrah replies to Merlin's dismay.

"Arthur intends to sacrifice himself to heal the veil. It is my destiny to protect him; you taught me that." Merlin declares.

"Merlin, you must not do this." Kilgharrah pleads.

"Then I have no choice. I must take his place." Merlin states.

"You would leave your wife? Your child?" Kilgharrah asks.

Merlin's mind takes a second to register what Kilgharrah has just said. "Child? I do not have a child."

Kilgharrah raises a scaly eyebrow. "That will change in the months to come."

Merlin's stomach drops at his implication. "Are- are you saying that... Anne... is- is with child?"

Kilgharrah nods. "It would seem so."

Merlin begins shaking his head. "No. No, there's no way. She would have told me if she was with child."

But as soon as Merlin says those words, he remembers the conversation that he had with Anne before he left. She had promised to tell him something when he comes back. Oh God...

Merlin feels like someone has punched the living daylights out of him. "My wife is with child."

"I am sorry for telling you." Kilgharrah apologises. "I had thought that she had told you."

Merlin sucks in a deep breath. He feels pained at the thought of never seeing his child, but he is grateful that Anne will have a piece of him after he is gone.

"I still have to do this. Anne will understand." He says firmly, though not for a single second does he believe that Anne will understand.

Kilgharrah looks down at the boy he has watched grow into a man. "From the moment I met you, I saw something that was invisible. Now it is there for all to see." He looks solemnly at Merlin. "It will be an empty world without you, young Warlock."

"Will you look after Anne and- and my child for me?" Merlin asks.

Kilgharrah nods. "Of course. The child will be a Dragon Lord like yourself."

Merlin nods his thanks and Kilgharrah flies off.

——

Amelia's POV

That night the Dorocha suddenly vanishes and does not return. The people begin to celebrate but those in the know do not, dreading the return of those who had headed out to save them. Wondering who'd sacrificed themselves.

Amelia throws herself into running the Kingdom as she doesn't want to sit there waiting for their return.

"My Lady!" A Guard cries as he bursts into the room, interrupting her Council meeting.

"Yes?" She prompts.

"The Prince has been seen approaching the Castle walls."

She almost collapses in relief when she hears this. Amelia brings herself together and turns to the Council members. "Well, I believe we should continue this another time?"

The Councillors murmur in agreement. Amelia glances towards Agravaine and sees his face is annoyed. This is further confirming Amelia's suspicions about him.

Amelia quickly departs the room but not before turning to the Guard and instructing him to find Anne and Gwen. While she's relieved Arthur has returned, she's anxious about who did the sacrifice in the end.

She bursts out of the Castle and stands at the top of the Castle stairs, watching as Merlin and Arthur, with Percival not far behind them, enter the Main Square. They get off their horses and Amelia flings herself at Arthur then Merlin and then Percival. Anne and Gwen join them in the Square. The former clings to Merlin in relief and the latter hugs her brother and Arthur.

Amelia pulls away to talk to them. "What happened? I thought someone..." Her voice trails off when she realises who's missing. She sees Arthur, Merlin and all the Knights' devastated faces. "No..."

Gwen gasps, pulling herself from Elyan, "Lancelot...."

——

It is later that the Court gathers in the Council Chambers in front of Arthur as he makes a speech about Lancelot's sacrifice.

"I want to pay tribute to Sir Lancelot. We owe him a great debt. It is not just his deed that we'll never forget. It's his courage. His compassion. His unselfish heart. He was the most noble Knight I'll ever know. He gave his life for all of us."

Arthur places a Camelot cape and sword on a pyre in the Square as there is no body to mourn with. The Court, Knights and Guards gather around, watching, and mourning. Amelia stands next to Percival, comforting him despite her own grief.

Merlin brings Arthur a torch for the pyre. Arthur tosses the torch and the pyre comes alight. Amelia feels tears welling in her eyes and dripping down her cheeks as she watches the pyre burn.

——

Amelia sits with Anne and Merlin, who sit on the bed in Merlin's old room in Gauis' Chambers with Amelia sitting on a chair. Gaius had wanted to do a check-up on Anne to make sure that the baby is okay because what happened has caused so much grief it could have caused a hormonal imbalance and affected the baby.

Merlin's hand is on Anne's stomach, where the baby is, and Anne's hand is on top of his. Amelia smiles softly as she watches the scene.

Merlin manages a small smile. "I can't believe there is a baby in there."

Anne manages a tiny smile too. "Me too." She sighs deeply. "It feels... terrible, almost. Celebrating something good so soon after we lost Lancelot." Her voice cracks when she says his name.

"Our daughter will know who he was." Merlin assures her firmly. "She will know who he was, what he did, and how he saved us all."

Anne nods. "Yes, sh—" She catches herself and looks over at Merlin. "Did you just say 'daughter'?"

Merlin nods. "Yes."

Amelia watches amusedly as Anne furrows her eyebrows. "We're having a boy." She insists. "Amelia agrees with me."

Merlin looks to Amelia who shrugs. She honestly had just agreed because Anne was so insistent.

"You can't know the gender of the baby until it's born." Merlin points out. "But it's definitely a girl. She is a beautiful, smart girl just like her mother."

Anne gives him a pointed look. "No, he is a handsome, intelligent boy just like his father."

"Girl."

"Boy."

"Girl."

"Boy."

"Girl."

Amelia lets out a huff, drawing the couple's attention to her. "Why am I here?"

"Baby names." Anne replies.

Amelia opens her mouth to reply when she hears Gaius' Chamber door open through the closed door of the room they are in.

"Gaius." Amelia sits up straight when she hears the voice of her uncle.

"How can I be of assistance?" Gaius asks.

"You're a man of great knowledge and wisdom." Agravaine says.

Gaius scoffs. "Knowledge, perhaps."

Amelia, Anne and Merlin quietly stand and move to the door.

"Have you ever come across two Sorcerers called Emrys and Tarian?" Agravaine asks.

The three listening at the door freeze in alarm. How does Agravaine know these names?

There's a brief pause before Gaius replies, "No. Doesn't sound familiar."

"Hm. Well, if you do hear mention of the name." Amelia sees through the cracks of the door that Agravaine is turning to leave.

"I'll be sure to tell you," Gaius calls to him.

"It will not go unrewarded." Agravaine chuckles on his way out.

They emerge from the Chamber.

Gaius turns to them. "There's only one person who could've heard those names. Morgana. We know her powers are growing. She, too, must have seen the Cailleach."

"But Agravaine..." Merlin murmurs.

Amelia sighs. "I knew he was up to something. He's been acting a bit too suspiciously."

"But why? How could he?" Anne questions.

"He has every reason to despise Uther. The death of his siblings, Tristan, Ygraine and Vivienne." Gaius reminds her. "We must beware. Morgana can never know the truth. She must never know who you both really are."

——

Amelia returns to her Chambers, deep in thought. She walks in to find Percival sitting on the chair next to the fireplace and doesn't turn when she enters.

"Percival?" She doesn't receive a reply and begins to walk around him so she can face him and that's when she sees what's hanging loosely in Percival's hand almost threatening to fall. Her book was where she had kept her notes on the show. Oh no.

"Percival... how much did you read?" Amelia tentatively asks. After the debacle with Merlin trying to stop Morgana from killing Uther because of a vision and causing it anyway, made Amelia realise the dangers of knowing the future.

Percival's voice snaps her out of her thoughts, "You knew all this but did not do anything." He stands towering over her. "You knew Lancelot was going to die."

"That's not true!" Amelia exclaims, she feels tears welling up in her eyes.

"If you know so much, why don't you do more?" He tensely murmurs. "You must've known that my family was going to be killed..."

"No!" Amelia stumbles. "I had memories of another life. A- a story if you will where it tells the story of what's happened in Camelot over the last few years. But I don't remember it, I don't know if it did talk about what happened to your family or not."

Amelia does not want to explain what a TV is right now.

Percival frowns again. "You don't remember?"

"I lost large parts of my memory from what Nimueh did to me remember?" At Percival's nod, Amelia continues, "I had to rely on the notes I had made before and when I lost it, I was lost. I haven't had it in a long time. The only hints I would get of the future is..."

"What?"

Amelia swallows thickly, tears are already streaming down her face. She trusts Percival and knows this is the right time to tell him of her magic but that doesn't make it less terrifying. "I have dreams."

"Dreams?" Percival prompts.

"Of the future."

"The future but that's only possible if... no..." Realisation dawns on Percival's face.

Amelia looks down, wringing her fingers together and chewing on her lip anxiously. "I'm sorry."

"You have magic!" He cries. Amelia looks at her door with alarm and Percival lowers his voice, but that doesn't mean it's any less hurt and angry. "You've been lying to us."

"Of course, I did!" Amelia snaps, fed up with his accusing tone. "Magic is outlawed. People view it as evil."

"Have you been spying on us the entire time?! Are you going to kill Arthur?" Percival demands to know. "You promised me you aren't like your sisters."

"No! I want to save Arthur!" Amelia retaliates. "He is prophesied to save those with magic, to bring peace."

"You've never used magic against Camelot?"

"No!"

"Do you promise?"

"Yes. I love you. Please believe me." Amelia pleads.

Percival sighs and brings her into his arms. "I love you and I believe you."

They move to sit on Amelia's bed together, cuddling and sharing kisses as Amelia tries to explain what she can remember from her previous life. Percival has lots of questions when he learns it's in a different world and time.

Amelia is smiling and laughing though it dims when her eyes land on her notebook that sits on her table where Percival put it. She's fearful of what it may contain on their future. What if she finds out that Percival dies or any of their other friends? She can't bear the thought.

She knows a terrible future is coming. One where Mordred kills Arthur. Not only has Kilgharrah prophesied it, but also it is a well known part of the actual legend.

——

A/N: I find it funny that Gaius literally says no mortal has survived the touch of a Dorocha and yet no one questions Merlin not only not dying straight away but recovering.

I hope the end scene with Amelia and Percival went well. Did any eagle-eyed readers notice how her magic wasn't addressed when talking about her relationship with Percival in the last chapter?

Merlin is still able to argue that the baby is a girl despite Kilgharrah saying it'll be a Dragon Lord as I had wanted it to be possible that it's the child of a Dragon Lord and not just reliant on the child being a boy. This doesn't say what the baby will be though.

Please leave comments on how you're enjoying this story and what you think.

And Lancelot! 😢

#bbc merlin #merlin

0 notes

avatarskywalker78 · 3 years ago

Photo

It’s another Fic Back Friday!!!!!!!!!! And again to make up for the Friday’s I’ve ended up missing, here’s another bunch of fics to read.

The first is Three Little Words by Walutahanga, an Angel AU where Angel shows Lindsay just a BIT of kindness in 1x21, and this changes things. Now, Linsday McDonald is what you’d call a trash fave of mine because yeah, he’s a villain and he always ends up choosing the wrong path, but obviously the theme of the show is that characters are complex - and this is an excellent take on how things could’ve played out (and to be honest I did think leaving him to die was a bit much). It’s not an easy ride for anyone involved, but eventually Lindsey does start to make friends with the rest of Team Angel. And when they’re fired by their boss, he has a decision to make.

The second is Misconceptions by @sweet-christabel , a Scott Tracy/OC TAG slow burn fic that I followed at the time and enjoyed reading so much!!!!!!! Anne Ashton is one of the best OCs ever who takes no shit, not even from someone who could easily get her fired. It starts with her trying to wrangle Scott into actually getting involved with the financial side of Tracy Enterprises and getting increasingly frustrated when he keeps cancelling meetings for no apparent reasons. It’s a great fic, and Anne’s relationship with all the characters is very well written - and also points out the flaws in the “breaking up with someone to protect them/stop them worrying” strategy so often used in media, so that was really great.

The third is California Dreaming by @sholiofic - a post-S2 Agent Carter fic where Angie Martinelli visits Stark Manor in LA and it’s chaotic makeshift family - there’s a flamingo on the lawn, a mess in the kitchen, and a blond idiot who’s up and about despite passing out from blood loss the day before. It’s fun and delightful and honestly it’s a shame Angie never did really get to meet everyone else, so if you wanted that, then read this fic!!!!!!!!

And the fourth is A Question of Motives by Alaia Skyhawk. One of my favourite ever fics, it’s a Merlin AU that starts at the end of season 3′s opening two parter - though initially written after only the first part aired as a one shot, where Arthur for once is not knocked out...and promptly witnesses Merlin force Morgause into retreating with magic. This changes everything, and though things get a little heated between Merlin and Arthur at first, it’s quickly resolved, and the result is an amazing piece of writing - and long, at 82 chapters - which covers the main plot but also sets up a lot more by exploring magic far more than the show ever did, having characters communicate and motivations explored, several other OCs that appear and are just as well written as any canon character and I just love it so much!!!!!!!!!!!!! And it’s not a standalone, as this AU continues through seasons 4, 5...and beyond, though the latest is still in progress. I highly HIGHLY recommend you read it, especially if you were as frustrated at the show as I was, and Merlin and Arthur’s friendship is beautifully written and flows so much better now that the big secret is no longer there (though of course there’s still plenty of snark and banter).

#Fic Back Friday #Other people's awesome fanfictions #Angel the Series #Thunderbirds are go #Agent Carter #BBC Merlin

6 notes · View notes

jadelotusflower · 3 years ago

Text

Roundup - November 2021

This month: The Remains of the Day, The Sixth Wife, The Babysitters Club (season 2), The Green Knight, Squid Game, Free Guy, Official Secrets, Wonder Woman 1984, Tick Tick Boom

Reading

The Remains of the Day (Kazou Ishiguro) - I love the film but have never read the source material, and honestly it was such a bittersweet read and I very much recommend it. If Downton Abbey is the quintessential rosy-eyed glorification of the British class system, The Remains of the Day is the restrained yet striking critique of it. Told entirely through the pov and reminiscing of Stevens, who has devoted his life to serving the Lord of Darlington Hall, waxes lyrical about dignity and what it means to be a great butler on his way to visit one time colleague Miss Kenton (with whom he is in love, hut has never been able to admit it).

There is a pomposity in Stevens, and yet Ishiguro does not make him a figure of fun - rather the prose deftly elicits sympathy for him, a tragic figure as he slowly unravels and realises his life of service and restraint has meant little as it has subsumed his very identity, leaving him little to enjoy in the evening of his life.

Katherine Parr: The Sixth Wife (Alison Weir) - I've read all the preceding books in this series about the six wives of Henry VIII and enjoyed them - Weir's prose is certainly nothing to write home about, and she's had some odd takes (the Anne of Cleves book was certainly...a thing), but the details of the day to day Tudor life is one of her strengths (it is very obvious she is a historian turned novelist, not the other way around).

Despite being the one who "survived" Katherine Parr didn't much get to enjoy the aftermath of being the final wife - in love with but betrayed by odious child molester Thomas Seymour and dying in childbirth (Weir posits a partially retained placenta) less than three years after Henry. Still, it’s engaging enough and a fitting end to the series.

Watching

The Green Knight (dir. David Lowery) - Was finally able to watch this after waiting an absolute age - I know the reactions have been somewhat divisive, but as someone with an appreciation for but no strong attachment to the original tale, I really enjoyed it. It’s really an atmospheric, mood piece and the most beautifully shot film I’ve seen for a long time (every frame is art), and Dev Patel is just so regal and beautiful even if Gawain is a wastrel on a subverted hero’s journey. In interesting choice is for this to rely entirely upon foreknowledge of Arthurian legend, and yet refuses to actually name anyone - Sean Harris is billed as the King, even if we know it’s Arthur, Sarita Choudhury as Gawain’s mother is simply Mother rather than Morgan Le Fay (not Morgause, apparently).

I’ve seen accusations of style over substance, and there certainly is a lot of style, but it’s also dense in metaphor and meaning - albeit delivered with deliberate ambiguity and requiring genuine work by the viewer to answer for themselves the questions raised - was the Green Knight summoned by Gawain’s mother to make him king, or send him on the quest to become a knight? Gawain fails every test until the last one - but is everyone he meets along the way versions of the Green Knight, his mother (or perhaps both), or projections of his own failings/flaws? Is his final fate to accept his death/punishment, and die a knight rather than live a coward (accepting in return the fatal blow he chose to deliver rather than a scratch), or to (as in the original tale) be given a reprieve and return to Camelot a good man? Throw in man vs nature, good vs great, the value vs cost of chivalry, and you’ve got a lot to parse in this film.

It does require attention even if seemingly little is happening on screen, and I do feel like I missed quite a bit (my very bad habit of sometimes scrolling through my phone while watching) - but I’ve been really interested by doing a deep dive on various interpretations and feel it will certainly benefit from rewatching.

Ultimately, though, I think this is a film based on what you bring to it, rather than take away. Or rather, akin to Gawain’s bargain with the Lord (nice to see you, Joel Edgerton!) and the rules of the Green Knight’s game, the viewer must return what is given - and it’s really up to us what that is.

The Babysitters Club (season 2) - I loved this just as much as the first season - this show is just brimming with the genuine love and care of writers for the source material, able to dip into the nostalgia well and yet also update for a modern audience. I never thought an adaptation would work as anything other than a 90's pastiche but I was wrong - almost every adaptive choice in this series is pitch perfect (although I am sad they have excised Shannon Kilbourne), in many ways improving on the original books I absorbed as a child. The parentals aren't just one note figures, but often the highlight! In particular Marc Evan Jackson (the notecards!) as Richard Spier and Mark Feuerstein as (charming doof) Watson Brewer continue to delight, and new addition this season Brandee Steger as Janice Ramsey has a great scene and I wish we'd seen more of her. With so many characters to juggle, along with their home lives and guest babysitting plots, my one criticism is the show needs room to breathe beyond eight episodes.

But am just so impressed with the young actresses who are really just embodying these characters (although their dialogue at times has that Dawson's Creek-esque meta maturity), I do hope they continue making this and allow these characters to achieve what their static book counterparts never did - age into high school students, since let’s be frank, a great deal of the later novels had absolutely ludicrous plot unbelievable involving 13 year olds, and would work much better for mid and upper teens.

Squid Game (season 1) - What to say about this show that hasn't already been said? I appreciated it (since enjoy seems to be the wrong word, given the subject matter) - it's compelling and disturbing and artistic allegory. I didn't mind either of the reveals at the end (they were hardly surprising), but they both felt somewhat anticlimactic - one in particular needed greater exploration because it felt like a very hasty wrapping up of what was a pretty big subplot, and if that was all there is, why spend so much time on it? Perhaps it will be addressed if there's another season, but to be honest I think overall it works better as a standalone series.

But it's so heavy and terrifyingly realistic despite the fantastical nature of the premise that it does make me uncomfortable to see the gleeful engagement of some of the surrounding fandom - Halloween costumes of the guards and contestants for example, reminiscent of the tone deaf marketing around The Hunger Games with "Capitol" eye shadow ranges and other such nonsense. Events where you can "play the Squid Games for real!" seem so completely obtuse and Missing the Point I find it all very disturbing - on a meta level, we're not that far from the odious VIPs.

But maybe I'm just a curmudgeon.

Free Guy (dir. Shawn Levy) - And now for something completely different. I mean, there's something to be said for being able to switch off your brain and watch something that isn't necessarily good, but mildly entertaining. The plot is fairly thin - Guy (Ryan Reynolds) is an NPC (non-player character) in a popular online game where he exists only as fodder for the players who rampage through the city setting, but seems to gain sentience after a chance encounter with Millie (Jodie Comer, if you can believe it), who wrote the original source code for a utopia-style interactive experience she’s sure was stolen by CEO Antwan (Taika Watiti at full improv) to create Free City, and spends her days in the game searching for it. There’s also plenty on gaming in-jokes that I’m sure I didn’t get and cameos by gaming streamers who I don’t know.

It’s not wildly funny, and it doesn’t really seem to have anything in particular to say (there’s a stab at the ramifications of AI developing free will but it doesn’t really go anywhere profound), but hey, it’s a perfectly enjoyable way to spend two hours without having to think.

Official Secrets (dir. Gavin Hood) - An excellent film fraught with tension, about events I had no knowledge of until now - the story of whistleblower Katherine Gun, who in 2003 leaked a memo detailing a US/UK plot to spy on (and possibly blackmail) UN diplomats into supporting the invasion of Iraq, and was subsequently charged under the Official Secrets Act. I find Keira Knightley hit or miss as an actress, but very much enjoyed her in this role and she really carries the film, although the supporting cast is also uniformly excellent, including Matt Smith, Rhys Ifans, and Ralph Fiennes.

A timely reminder of a shameful period of recent history, the illegitimacy of war, and the secrets kept from and lies told to the public to pursue political agendas. I really recommend this one.

Wonder Woman 1984 (dir. Patty Jenkins) - Finally got around to seeing this after hearing ad nauseam that it’s terrible, the worst movie ever, etc, and honestly I feel in pop culture an idea forms around a piece of work as The Worst that there’s very little nuance in the ongoing discussion (see: the Matrix Sequels, Ghostbusters: Answer the Call).

I…didn’t think this movie was that bad? Let’s be clear, it wasn’t good - it’s overwrought, at least 40 minutes too long, and there’s seriously questionable story choices, namely Steve inhabiting the body of some dude who is where exactly while Steve is using his body to have sex with Diana and put himself in mortal peril? But who cares…certainly not Steve or Diana! Why complicate this already complicated plot when we’re talking ancient stone magic that could have easily materialised Steve out of thin air and sidestepped the consent issues. Especially when the immorality of Diana keeping Steve means that this guy is in limbo forever is never even a factor in her (eventual) decision to renounce her wish.

Max Lord and Cheetah pulling double villain duty just overloads the film so neither gets a compelling arc - I would have preferred if they’d just had Barbara/Cheetah as the big bad, or keep the Max Lord plot and set up Barbara as Diana’s ally for now and save Cheetah for a subsequent film, because I really did enjoy their dynamic, it was just undercooked (I do ship them a little bit, at least Diana and dorky!Barbara, the sapphic vibe was there. I mean, she made her laugh again!)

But there were moments in this film that doesn’t make it a complete write off for me - the opening sequence on Themyscira (make a movie about little Diana and the Amazons please!), the Diana/Steve goodbye scene (I cry at the drop of a hat these days, this really got me), and Diana learning to fly.

Tick Tick...BOOM! (dir. Lin-Manuel Miranda) - An adaptation of Jonathan Larson’s musical/rock monologue, i.e. the one he wrote before Rent, about the writing of the musical he wrote before TTB. There’s meta on meta on meta here - reframing Larsen’s own words and music through a posthumous lens - that his greatest success would come not through the work in focus here (the futuristic sci-fi musical Superbia) but the next work Rent, a success Larsen would never see, dying suddenly the night before the off-broadway show premiered. The title and the opening song 30/90 are especially prescient, knowing Larson at the closing of the film has less than five years of life left (not to forget that the show was written in an age when Larson’s friends and colleagues were dying all around him in the middle of the AIDS epidemic).

Miranda brings his encyclopedic knowledge and unabashed, unrestrained love of musical theatre - particularly in the number Sunday, Larsen’s tribute to Sondheim’s Sunday in the Park with George, itself a work about the making of art, packed to the brim with Broadway greats as diner patrons being moved into a tableau by Larson, much as George moves his characters into the final painting in Park - this is art (A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande) begetting art (Sunday in the Park with George), begetting art (Tick Tick Boom). Sondheim also makes a voice cameo in the film (depicted earlier by a grizzled Bradley Whitford) leaving an encouraging voicemail, particularly poignant given his recent passing and the fact he re-wrote the dialogue.

This really is a tour de force by Andrew Garfield - he is wonderful and has quite a lovely singing voice, and the songs are pleasant if not quite as memorable as those of Rent - but you can certainly hear the connective tissue in both the lyrics and music. I find Miranda’s screen presence ofttimes cloying but he acquits himself well as director - it’s a little frenetic but never overwhelming, playing around with the framing device - Garfield as Larson on stage performing the work, often inter cutting with flashbacks to the story being told so we never forget this is a work of fiction depicting a work of fiction (the film opens with “this is a true story - except for the parts Jonathan made up”)

I really did find this film quite affecting, as someone who loves musical theatre but for whom Rent would be far down on the list of favourite works (although I do like it) - because ultimately it’s not about the work itself, but the creation, summed up beautifully by Jonathan’s agent Roz (a wonderful, unrecognisable Judith Light):

“You start writing the next one, and after you finish that one, you start on the next. And on and on, and that’s what it means to be a writer, honey”

Writing

Against the Dying of the Light - 6826 words, Chapter 14 posted, Chapter 15 finished and to be posted soon. Finally complete!

2021 is to be the year of finishing unfinished fics (I know I say this every year, but this year it’s somewhat true). I still have the last chapter of The Lady of the Lake to write and post and that’s December’s goal. Turn Your Face to the Sun is also unfinished but I’m a way off that so that will probably get moved to 2022, along with Here I go again (aka my Smallville fic) which will be my focus in January.

I’ve also been making a concerted effort to work on my novel, doing some serious editing on what I’ve already written, which has comprised mainly of taking words out rather than putting them in, so nothing to add to the count yet. My plan is to finish editing part I by the end of the year and really get cracking on finishing the rest of the first draft next year.

So going into December, the yearly totals stand as follows:

Debrief (complete) - 8149

Against the Dying of the Light (complete) - 18802

The Lady of the Lake - 10261

Here I go again (on my own) - 12948

Turn Your Face to the Sun - 3617

The Faerie Ring (novel, working title) - 1484

Total: 55,261

#reading watching writing #2021 round #november roundup #the green knight #tick tick boom #ww84

13 notes · View notes

themorningtide · 5 years ago

Text

Wordtober, day 17&18, Freeform.

author’s note: this is a longer piece that I have been working on and trying to finish for wordtober. Link to part 1 in the end.

xxxXXXxxx

For the first hour, there is no path. Trees line up as far as the eye can see, leaves and branches continuously barring their way entwined in a gigantic web. He would feel a little silly, walking seemingly nowhere while holding hands with the two women like he is still a child. He would. If the night wasn’t that deep. If the trees didn’t seem to move with each step they give, opening a path in front of them and then embracing the space they have just vacated once they pass through. Fear steadily raises inside of him, especially when, out of the corner of his eye, he spies a furtive smile on Morgause’s face that she quickly hides. The way Elaine struggles to remain tied to him even though her feet which to draw her elsewhere.

What the Fae have, they wish to keep. It is quite obvious that this earth, this land they cross, considers his sisters very much its property.

Arthur does not agree. The further they walk, the closer he draws them to himself, making sure he remembers the land where they live. The long muddy roads, the tall castles, stone and iron, everything which is stable. There is a tile at the edge of his childhood room which has never been replaced. He and Elaine broke it while playing, with the poker from the fireplace. He remembers being scared momentarily before Morgan had appeared from virtually nowhere, prodding the shattered material with a dirty nail. No one would notice it, don’t worry, she had said and there it was, a tile at the corner, broken in half and then half again that no servant had ever touched. He remembers its jangled edges, the little piece at the side which kept moving but never strayed, he remembers the color and Morgan laughing at their anxiousness before she fixed the situation. He remembers the exact pattern and shape. Every time he does so, the lights above his head shine more faintly and the world is now crossing into feels more real and less magical.

Arthur enters the clearing as himself, King Arthur, not a puppet of the fae and that, more than anything, gives him the confidence to barge his way through the small crowd of amused onlookers.

The clearing they arrive to is not especially large. Tall, yes, the moment they have entered it is as if the trees have grown, have invaded the skies and formed a dome, a Cathedral tall as he has ever seen. The half moon of flooring is paved with large stone slabs, polished up to a fine shine by a careful hand, chairs and tables are placed on its outside, heavy food and drink he has never tasted. Lights, little orbs of starlight hang in the middle of the air here and there like the most beautiful of rains.

And at the top, lays a single throne. Bronze has been melded and carved into tree roots, entwining over and over until there is a chair and there is a crowned woman upon it.

“We have visitors, my court.”

Arthur will be hard pressed to describe the Queen at a later date. If pressed, he will say she was short. Appeared to be – though at times she seemed taller than the trees above them. The same white hair and grey skin of her court, rail thin to the point where one would deem her sickly, her chin rests on an impossibly delicate hand, shimmering in the dark like made of starlight. With each movement, the surface of what he would call skin, ripples, it becomes solid before shifting once more into liquid. The creature – whoever it is – might guise herself into the form of a human, head, shoulders, arms, legs, a dark dress which is as fine as any he has seen in his court but it is not a human. That simile of a woman is a courtesy. One given by creatures which usually do not bother.

“Our cousins have returned! Welcome home!”

The creature stands from her bronze throne, opening her arms slowly in an expansive welcome. Each step she takes, Arthur wishes to draw back, draw them back behind him before reaching for a weapon he does not have. “You are to drink and feast with us this night? What a wonderful idea! What a wonderful night!”

He is nothing in this conversation. None spares him a glance. All their eyes are on Morgause and Elaine, both of which are now standing straight, waving with their free hand to one creature or another all the while fielding the attention of the queen.

“Let us dance, my court! Let us feast and dance until the sun decides to break our reverie!”

There are no instruments, no musicians or singers. But the music comes from somewhere (all around) and Arthur flinches with every note as if physically struck. Oh. Oh, no. It is real. It is the hand in his right one, Morgause’s, clenching so hard he feels his bones grinding against each other. He breathes deeper for a moment before that sister moves forward, shielding him from the Queen’s amusement.

“We are here for Morgan.”

The amusement of the court falters. The music stutters for a moment. Some exchange glances, some actually look worried. If Morgause pays them any mind, Arthur cannot read it in her countenance. Just in that hand, tightening, more and more because she is afraid, his wonderful strong sister. She is afraid.

The Queen sits once more, reclining forward while biting a nail delicately with razor sharp teeth. Her eyes are narrow, pupils dilated like a cat which has found its prey. “Morgan is mine, my dear,” she explains gently, as if her visitor is rather daft. “She wishes to be with her people. It is her birthright.” Like a wolf who will not share what belongs to it.

Her birthright is to be Princess. It is in His Court, His Castle, His Kingdom.

“Morgan is ours, Queen,” Elaine rebuts. “She should be with her family. We who are hers.”

“She has come to us.”

No, that is wrong. She was taken away. She was a child and they lied to her, he’s sure of it.

“You have stolen her from us when she was weaker! I know she is stronger! I know she can make a different choice if given the chance.”

Speak. Speak. Speak, damn you!

“She will return with us.”

Each word literally hurts as he speaks it. Acid drips down his throat, bile rises and threatens to be spat through his lips, burning every trace of flesh in between.

The Queen smiles at him (at him finally, at him solely, in a manner that makes him wish to throw up).

“Then find her then, human. Search for whomever you wish, for how long you wish. And when you fail, feel free to dance or die.”

The gentle lights that had, until that moment, done little more than hover over their heads, shine brighter, shine more strongly until he has to turn his eyes away. It is daylight in the clearing, shaking that odd world into awareness.

“Search, Boy,” the Queen says, waving at the gathered crowd. “You have little precious time, you humans.”

Arthur doesn’t acknowledge the challenge. Or the prank, he can see it from a mile away. No, he has precious little time and Morgan to find. Without waiting, he turns to the audience, releasing the hands in his with a sharp movement. They are strong. They are all strong. They can do this.

Where is she? Where?

(He was a boy when she was taken away, just a boy, a mess of reedy limbs and awkward movements, watching as his sister is taken away. She didn’t cry. He didn’t cry. Morgause and Elaine stood silent and quiet, their hands joined in the middle of them as the remaining kept on his shoulders and he can only remember those tears, not the features, not the traces).

The small crowd smiles at their discomfort, grey eyes and white hair. Short, tall, willowy, broad, plays on dark, grey, white skin. They are a crowd leached of color and given everything else. He sees fur, he sees long limbs of plant-like material, branches instead of arms, claws and teeth sharp as sin. Damn you, he curses inwardly, damn you all to all hells, damn you to the seven, damn you, damn you, damn you, may the gods take you.

“You are too kind, young King,” the Queen declares, tapping at the arm of her chair. Her amused smile makes his skin crawl and every time she moves, the little bells woven in her white hair tingle unpleasantly in the cold air. Every time, he shivers. “I think you will make a welcome addition to our court. And you, of course, our lovely cousins. We miss your father dearly.”

He wants to kill this being. He wants to wrap his hands around its pale neck and squeeze until its bones break under his strength.

“All who knew him do, Lady.”

He wants to run through the hall (run her through with a blade he does not carry) and make her confess. Where is his sister? Within whom of these faceless beings is she hiding?

Yet Elaine is there, steady, her voice wrapping around him and shackling him onto the ground. She searches still, her smile just barely there, like a disguise as strong as metal armor. How can she smile like that as the different beings dance around her, playing with her hair while hanging lights in the empty air? All the while, Morgause stands tall in the front of the Queen, look at me, he hears her breathe as she protects their search, always look at me, voice soft, smooth and cutting in gentle accusations.

“It is such a shame that care did not save him.”

“That does happen when wanders from home.”

There is a woman by the corner. She isn’t smiling or laughing like the others. She doesn’t show herself or gives into the game of fooling him. The woman stands alone. Silent. Her bloodless eyes move from one mortal to the other in absent curiosity but that is all she does. While the others dance and make a mockery of their despair, it is like watching the sole sane person in a ball of children.

That is why Arthur looks at her. It is why he comes closer.

“A family does not break due to distance,” Morgause continues behind him. “It does not break with dishonor. It breaks once you chose yourself over it and turn your back to which you promised to defend. And Father always did right by us.”

“Your Queen is more family than that woman who bore you, my dear.”

Her eyes are wide and thin; a clear blue that is a touch darker to be the morning sky, just a smidge away from river water. He sees the color underneath the white irises, coming and going as the waves of the sea. Taller than Elaine, he realizes, as he walks closer to her, almost as much as Morgause. There is a little brown spot marring her pale skin right underneath her right eye, isn’t there?

There are two beings in his way to her. Arthur doesn’t notice. He just pushes them aside. He pushes more, waves through the creatures like struggling through the morning tide.

Her hair is white as snow. That is not right. Her hair was black, pure deep black, curling around her ears and down her back. Her jaw is Morgause’s. Arthur doesn’t know how he missed it. He sees Elaine in the ridge of her nose and the wide of her mouth. There is something else, of course, someone else, a thousand someones he does not know hiding in her features and there is him, in the turn of her lips and the sharp finish of her eyes.

Arthur asks for no permission to grip her elbow and tug her close enough for their noses to touch. The eyes are large and round, exactly like his. Same shape, same color, same structure. She looks like Morgan was, disposed of her humanity and taken over by the fae.

But she is Morgan. She is; he is so very certain.

The King feels like crying.

“Sister!”

Her body is warm against his as he hugs her close, exhaling lowly into her white hair, closing his arms tight around her form. Oh, oh, this is relief. This is peace. True peace, not the imaginary he had felt at the entrance, not any moment passed in his father’s Castle. Her arms hang lost by her sides. He swears he can hear her gasp but it might be just his wishful thinking because, when he looks down, her tone-shifting eyes are bland and uninterested, her expression akin to a painting forever frozen in time.

“Have you found her?”

Morgan is ripped from his hold and transferred into Morgause’s and any complaint he might have is silenced because Morgause – his strong, amazing, capable sister - looks fragile. Broken. Disbelieving. Her hands – always strong, always assured and so very talented – shake on the other woman’s face, fingers trailing down the ageless skin again and again as if she wishes to memorize it with each passing.

“Oh, my Morgan.”

There are tears in her voice. Tears in her eyes. Tears sliding down her cheeks and ignored.

“Morgause, do not hog!”

The confusion is still on fae woman’s face as she finds herself hounded by three bodies. In the moment Morgause is near, the moment Elaine slips in, their embrace is a tiny group of four children, four lost souls tied together once more. They are whole! Four rivers connected, strong and fierce, they are fortresses, they are high and tall and powerful and no one can face them.

(More than that, they are iron and steel! There is little else Fae hate as much. Why do you think they steal just one? One child! One man! One woman!)

“We have missed you, little sister.” Their words bundle together, spoken by three voices and rhyming into this unending litany. I love you, I missed you, I needed you, I need, I want, you are here, alive, well, with us. It is a confession without end, woven by male and female voices that seems to encompass all the words which should have been spoken throughout the years.

With this moment alone, they have won.

Part 1.

#arthuriana #morgan le fay #elaine of garlot #anne morgause #arthur pendragon #of gorlois' inheritance #wordtober #wordtober day 17 #freeform #part 2 of 3

7 notes · View notes