#we haven’t even met MORGAUSE yet

[thatgirlonstage]

The episode where Uther tries to have Merlin arrested and Arthur zero hesitation misdirects all his knights and tells Merlin to run away makes me fully insane

[panharmonium]

I'm curious if you have any headcanon/any fic plans or just ideas about how Hunith learnt Will knew about Merlin's magic. Sorry if you already talked about it and has slipped out of my attention!

Oh my gosh, any message that asks me about Will or Hunith or Ealdor in any fashion makes me so happy; thank you!  

I'll avoid drawing up an outline for an exact scenario, only because I am always writing more fic about Merlin’s pre-Camelot life and if I end up deciding to actually do this in a fic I’ll be mad at myself for already typing it all out in meta XD  I will, however, talk about some general thoughts, because I do have solid opinions about certain aspects of this whole thing (all my own, obviously; folks are free to imagine this in different ways - these are just my own personal inferences from the canon we’re given).

Putting this under a cut because it got long - you always write me such detailed notes that I wanted to be thorough! <3

So!  Here are some of my thoughts about how Hunith learnt that Will knew about Merlin’s magic.

i. it was not careless.  

In my opinion, Will and Merlin, by the age where we meet them in canon, are not out there goofing around with Merlin’s magic in risky ways.  It doesn’t make sense for Merlin, who is old enough to understand the dangers to his own life and who is also desperately committed to making sure his mother never finds out that Will is in the know (because Merlin knows it won’t go well), and it definitely doesn’t make sense for Will, who, despite his fanon reputation for mischief, is...not actually shown to be like that in canon.

I talked before in my big meta dump about Will that I very much do not read the “he’s always been a troublemaker” line to be indicative of the “pranks and shenanigans” theme that I tend to see in a lot of fic.  The “troublemaker” line, in context, is not referring to Will causing mischief; it’s about Will’s inability to shut his mouth and stop stirring the pot, in the sense of him yelling about stuff that nobody else wants to think about; it’s about him not being able to put his head down and go with the flow.  It’s immediately followed by the line “they’re used to ignoring him,” and what we’re being told here is that Will is the cousin who can’t stop himself from getting political at the holiday dinner table even when the rest of the family is begging him to let them have one single meal in peace.  He cannot let things go, and the rest of his neighbors are completely sick of it (see: Hunith’s ZERO patience with Will when he challenges Arthur in front of the community).

Canon Will, in contrast to some fanon interpretations, is actually a very intense, guarded person?  He’s suspicious and pragmatic and risk-averse.  And I just think it’s important to remember that Will, in his current situation, does not have a lot of time to be messing around.  He was orphaned and left to run a whole homestead as a child.  That’s like...he’s doing the work of an entire family.  Life in Ealdor already leaves little room to slack off, and Will is completely overburdened - somebody in his situation would be desperately busy, almost all of the time, and always on the verge of a potential disaster, if he fell behind on anything.  

So I just don’t read him as someone who is out doing silly things with Merlin in a way that got them discovered by Hunith.  Like - Merlin isn’t careless enough to be goofing off in his own house, for example, and Will isn’t a character who’s daring Merlin to do foolish things for the fun of it.  Merlin is comfortable using his magic around Will, definitely, and we know he’s had at least one mishap in the past (the tree), but at this point in their lives, I don’t see either of them as frivolous or clueless enough to use magic in a way that could get them caught by anyone, or for the purpose of risky/trivial games.

ii. merlin was the one who let it slip

I personally think the lead-up to Hunith discovering Will’s involvement was preceded by two things:

an increase in external stressors (related to the political situation between Camelot and Cenred’s kingdom), making Merlin’s position in Ealdor progressively more precarious/dangerous

Merlin becoming increasingly frustrated, rebellious, and unwilling to hide himself the way his mother wanted him to

The first point is something that I've incorporated into fic, so I think @blueclaw7 is already familiar with it :)  But essentially, when I was collecting info on Ealdor and Cenred's kingdom prior to a previous fic-writing endeavour, there were a few things that led me to wonder just what sort of trouble was brewing in that corner of the world, prior to Merlin's departure:

We know that Cenred makes agreements with slave traders, allowing them to work certain areas of his land without interference (see: Cenred's discussion with Morgause about Jarl in 3.12 - “He's been working our western border for months...We have an understanding.”)  Cenred likely would not allow this unless it benefited him in some way, so I think we can safely assume that he is receiving some sort of kickback from allowing slavers to operate in his kingdom, either in the form of financial compensation or perhaps by having people like Jarl on-call in case Cenred himself needs specific targets rounded up.

We also know that sometime prior to 1.10, Cenred's kingdom and Camelot signed some sort of peace treaty, which according to Uther was “years in the making.”  We're not told how long the two kingdoms had been enemies before that, but my personal interpretation is that they have been at odds for a long time, because the peace treaty doesn’t appear to be very successful - by 2.12, Uther says, “Our treaty with Cenred no longer holds.  We are at war,” despite the fact that we actually haven't even met Cenred in the show yet and he hasn't attacked Camelot or anything (he doesn't agree to do that until Season 3, when Uther is incapacitated and the kingdom is weak).  Uther also later refers to Cenred as Camelot’s “sworn enemy.”  So the treaty just appears to have been a temporary, shaky peace between kingdoms that are frequently in conflict, the terms of which we are not privy to.

We know that Uther ��offers a handsome reward for anyone with magic” (2.09, when the bounty hunter shows up with Freya), and we know that normal people will turn others over to bounty hunters for their own benefit (“How did he find you?” / “You can't always trust people.”)

We know that Aredian (the witchfinder) has been operating “in foreign lands” (aka, not Camelot).

So, the question I asked myself was this: why would Cenred and Uther even agree to a peace treaty in the first place, when their kingdoms are clearly constantly at odds with one another?  And looking at the other tidbits of information above, the framework I constructed for myself was that I personally think part of the aforementioned treaty involves Cenred turning people with magic over to Uther - and perhaps allowing Uther's agents over the border to do their own hunting - in exchange for some kind of compensation (probably financial).  We know Cenred is greedy (he's aiming to conquer Camelot even though he is, per his own words, “rich and powerful already”), and we know he canonically has the means to give Uther what he wants (agreements with slave traders working within his borders).  And given that the treaty appears to have been a fairly recent development in 1.10, my personal read is that this treaty was signed sometime before Merlin left Ealdor, and that it prompted an uptick in dangerous activity that frightened Merlin's mother and made her more willing to send him away.  Bounty hunters nabbing people on the road, slave traders being given the freedom to operate without interference, rumors of single agents like the Witchfinder roaming the countryside - all of this would lead to the far more immediate concern of “what happens if somebody in Ealdor thinks Merlin might be magic and decides to make a quick shilling by turning him in????”

I think that is Hunith's biggest concern.  Ealdor is poor.  And Merlin himself says his departure was prompted by not being able to trust the people around him.  When Freya tells him, “you can't always trust people,” he replies, “I know.  That's why I left home.”  And if there were suddenly a higher demand for people with magic, due to Cenred and Uther's arrangement, then there would be more incentive for regular people to look for a way they could turn it to their advantage, especially if they've already been conditioned to see magic as an evil/dangerous thing.  

I think this leads to Hunith being even more cautious, and putting even tighter restrictions on Merlin re: where he can go and when he can be out and who he can go wandering around with, and even on using magic for little things at home where no one can see.  And the problem with this is that Merlin won't tolerate it anymore, not the way he did when he was younger.  Not because he doesn't want to listen to her or because he doesn't understand that she's trying to help him, but because he just can't.  He can't.  It's killing him.  He tells Gaius in 1.01, “if I can't use magic, I might as well die,” and that’s not just him being dramatic; he really feels that way.  He doesn’t just have magic, he is magic.  He can't suppress it that way, without feeling like he's killing himself.

So, to bring us back around to the point of this segment - I think what ends up happening is that Merlin starts pushing back on Hunith’s restrictions, not so he can goof around and do stupid things, but so he can live his life in a way that doesn't make him feel like he's suffocating, so he can just be, without feeling like his entire existence is a crime.  I think the increased pressure drives him more and more frequently to Will, the only person around whom Merlin can exist as a complete person, and I think he becomes increasingly resistant to his mother's directives, and I think his mother gets more and more frustrated with him, because she sees it as him needlessly risking his life, but Merlin is tired of hearing that he can't trust anybody, because he CAN trust somebody; he has somebody to trust right now and he’s had them for ages, and he doesn't think things have to be so dire all the time, if his mother would just see that, but she won't -

And then, when his frustration reaches a boiling point, Merlin accidentally spills the beans.

I don't think Hunith walks in on Merlin doing magic in front of Will, personally.  I think Merlin slips up and tells her, in the course of their increasingly frequent, tense conflicts between “you can't trust ANYBODY/things are too dangerous” and “i CAN trust somebody/i can’t live like this anymore.” 

I think he lets it slip in an argument, as a frustrated justification for “it doesn't have to be like this all the time; things could be better; will's known about it for X years and nothing bad has ever happened to me.”  

And then, of course, it goes very, very badly.

Which brings us to Point #3 -

iii. it was a Disaster.

What I mean by this is that Hunith discovering that Will knew about Merlin’s magic was not a chill situation.  It did not go over well, and it created an interpersonal crisis between the three of them that persists all the way into 1.10.

We’ve already heard canon confirmation of this - “when she found out you knew, she was SO angry” - and it’s obvious that this conflict was never resolved.  I’ve already talked in another post about Hunith’s weird disinterest in/disapproval of Will in favor of Arthur (even after Will’s death!), and Will clearly isn’t feeling very generous with her in 1.10, either - they only interact once, when Hunith snaps at Will to “keep quiet” after he challenges Arthur in front of the village, and after that, they never talk again.  They never go anywhere near each other, in fact.

I know fandom likes to headcanon Hunith as the ultimate mom who is super generous with everyone and would instantly adopt all of Merlin’s friends out of an overabundance of motherly love, but 1.10 tells a very different story about her relationship with Will, and it’s clearly not a completely new issue.  Merlin knew his mother wouldn’t react well to finding out that he’d shared his secret with Will.  It’s why he lied in the first place.  Whatever the relationship between the three of them was before the reveal, Merlin knew that a history of positive interactions wouldn’t make a difference if the truth came out.  His mother would never be okay with Will knowing.

And he was right!  Because Hunith finding out the truth fractures that relationship.  It’s what finally prompts Hunith to send Merlin away.  And that, of course, makes things worse, because a) Will never did anything to deserve that reaction, and b) as I’ve talked about in another post, Merlin disappears without even telling Will he’s leaving.  He just vanishes.  And Will, blindsided, is left in Ealdor with Hunith, who was party to that decision, and he is so...I don’t even know how to describe how full of grief and rage I would be, if I were in his situation.  Merlin was the only good thing in Will’s life. 

I don’t think Will wants to be anywhere near Hunith, after that.  I think he avoids her like the plague.  I think the only reason Will even knows anything about where Merlin is or what he’s doing is because Hunith is careful to chat about it with other people in casual conversation, while Will is within earshot (hence why Will later says, “I hear you’re skivvying for some prince”).  And I think Hunith is probably making a misguided attempt to be kind, by doing that - giving Will a way to stay sort of updated even though they’re not speaking to each other - but I also don’t think her efforts are effective, at all, because the only thing her secondhand updates do for Will is hammer home the fact that Merlin is writing to Hunith instead of him, that Merlin hasn’t directed Hunith to relay Will any message, that Merlin really did just leave without saying goodbye and apparently has no intention of contacting Will again.  And Will doesn’t know why Merlin did that, or what he did to make Merlin not want him anymore, but because Will is who he is, he ends up feeling like Merlin must have never cared about him that much in the first place, and it was just that Will misread the whole relationship; he got his hopes up and let his guard down and believed that somebody cared for him, and he should have known better, because everybody ALWAYS leaves him, and he was stupid to think this time would be different.  And he is so angry at himself, but he is also devastated, and impossibly lonely, because he has nobody in his life, and he has to just sit and simmer in his own pain, because Merlin is gone, and Will would rather crawl over a bed of hot coals than go anywhere near Hunith right now.

And I honestly don’t blame Will for avoiding her.  It’s like...I hate to put this on Hunith, because I do appreciate her in other areas, but there’s just no getting around this: the way she views and deals with Will is markedly different from the way she treats Merlin’s Camelot friends, even though she barely knows them, and despite the fact that she’s perfectly aware that Arthur hates sorcery.  She’s happy to ignore Merlin’s friendship with Will all throughout 1.10, even though that’s the relationship that is in the most desperate need of attention, and instead she chooses to focus on/encourage/praise Merlin’s relationships with people who hate the thing that makes him who he is.  And that is just so...bizarre to me, and I think...I really believe there is a part of Hunith that blames Will for everything that happened, even if it’s subconscious.  Like - I think there’s a part of her that believes that if Will hadn’t found out about the magic, Merlin wouldn’t have been “in danger,” and she wouldn’t have been put in the difficult position of sending Merlin away.  I’m not sure if she truly believed Will was going to sell Merlin to a bounty hunter when he got desperate enough for money (see above re: Will’s situation being a precarious one, survival-wise), or if it was more her fear that Merlin would be too trusting now that one person had accepted him (what if Merlin went and told someone else, because it worked out the first time???  What if he let this thing with Will lull him into a false sense of security?)  But whatever her reasons, she still ends up pushing Will away.  She never treats him with the same kind of solicitous interest that she extends to Merlin’s new companions, and I do think it all comes back to that moment when she found out that he knew.

It’s hardly rational, given what we know about how dedicated Will actually is to protecting Merlin’s secret.  And I don’t think Hunith is like...actively taking it out on him.  But the attitude is still present, as an undercurrent, and I have to be honest about this: the feeling I get from Hunith in 1.10 (and the vibe that I imagine Will was getting from her while Merlin was gone) is that she thinks Merlin is much better off now that he’s moved on from Ealdor, and that leaving Will behind was ultimately best for everyone, and that Will needs to just get over it and understand that he’s not a part of Merlin’s life anymore, so everyone can be happy that Merlin has met such fantastic, fascinating new friends. 

That’s what I hear her saying, when I see the way she completely ignores him while simultaneously loving on the Camelot crew.  That’s what Will hears, too, even if she doesn’t say it out loud.  

And honestly, my heart breaks for him.  He deserved more than that. 

(tangentially, but - I think it bears mentioning, given certain fic trends I have seen, that Merlin himself does not share this viewpoint.  Merlin has never and will never consider his new friends to be a “step up” from Will, and he has never and will never consider Will to be a “past” or less immediate part of his life.  Even after Will is dead, Merlin refuses to tolerate even the barest suggestion of this from anybody - when Arthur tries to say that Will “was a close friend,” Merlin corrects him, saying “He still is.”  Will is just as relevant and meaningful to Merlin in Camelot as he was when Merlin was still at home, and the fact that Hunith doesn’t assign Will as much importance anymore does not in any way correspond to Merlin’s own feelings on the subject.) 

So - the point of all this is just to say that Hunith finding out about Will isn’t an event that ends with all of them coming together and collectively deciding to send Merlin to Camelot while Will and Hunith promise to look after each other while Merlin is away.  Whatever relationship the three of them had before this happened, it’s broken after Hunith learns the truth.  Hunith and Will are completely done with each other, after Merlin leaves.  Merlin and Will are obviously plunged into an incredibly messy situation, thanks to Merlin vanishing without a word.  And even Merlin and his mother have tension - Merlin references the big blow-up to Will in 1.10, but there’s also a moment in episode 1.01, too, that is VERY subtle but also very telling, when Gaius says “your mother asked me to look after you.”  Merlin’s response is just, “Yes,” but the way he delivers it - he looks away, and his mouth tenses up, and there’s this little hesitation and then the tone is almost - rueful, like there’s more he’d like to say but he refrains.  It’s like a “if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all” vibe.  And the reason for that is because the circumstances under which his mother asked Gaius to look after him were a mess.  Merlin tells us straight-up in 1.10 that he didn’t want to leave home.  The entire thing was a disaster.

iv.  the reason hunith was “so angry” is because will did not find out about merlin's magic by accident

I think I've talked about this briefly before, but here it is in more detail: I am firmly convinced that Merlin told Will about his magic, as opposed to Will finding out accidentally.

It's not something we can actually know in a canon sense, obviously.  And I know the “Will almost has an accident and Merlin uses magic to help him” motif is more common in fic.  But the reason I’m so set on this is because of how Merlin describes Hunith's reaction to finding out that Will knew.  

“When she found out you knew - she was so angry.”  The way Merlin says that - he shakes his head, almost in awe, like it was something almost frightening to behold - the way he puts an emphasis on “so angry” - to me, this has always been an indication that Merlin voluntarily disclosed his magic to Will.  We know enough about Hunith to be familiar with how gentle and calm she is, and how much she loves Merlin, and how kind and understanding she is with him.  I think if she learned that Will had found out about Merlin's magic in an accidental way - ie, in a way Merlin could not have reasonably prevented - then even though she would still have wished that Merlin had told her sooner, she wouldn't have reacted in a way that made Merlin reflect on it like she was scary-angry.  I think she would have understood, if he explained that he'd been forced into a situation to use his magic to help someone or prevent a bad accident from happening.

However - if Merlin had TOLD Will about his magic, voluntarily, when he didn't have to, just because he felt like it, despite all of Hunith's warnings and all of her efforts to keep Merlin safe - that, I think, is something that would have prompted the kind of anger Merlin references.

To Hunith, that would be unconscionably reckless.  After all she's done to keep Merlin alive, after spending every day of her life sick and sleepless with worry - to have Merlin so easily throw her work away like that, in blatant defiance of every cautionary thing she's ever told him - it's a slap in the face.  Plus, Merlin is now in more danger (she thinks) which just amplifies her fear, and thus her fury.

But what she doesn’t understand is that Merlin didn't do it to hurt her.  He didn't do it because he doesn't appreciate how hard she works to keep him safe.  He did it because he had to.  There came a moment, at some point in the past, where he became so lonely and so desperate to be seen that he made a choice, took a risk, and put his life in someone else's hands.

And he was rewarded for that choice!  Merlin never, ever would have made it in Ealdor without Will’s honest companionship.  A Merlin who did not have a single friend to know and love him for those first two decades would have been utterly unrecognizable by the time he arrived in Camelot - if he even survived long enough to get there.

But Hunith doesn't understand the depth of Merlin's desperation.  She thinks that him telling Will was a foolish, uncalled-for risk, when for Merlin it was a lifesaving necessity.  

So, I think that this is part of what makes Hunith react so badly.  And I also think the severity of her reaction (and the ultimate tragic outcome that follows in 1.10) is something that lingers in Merlin’s mind for a long time, because he never willingly discloses his secret to anyone again.  Gaius and Lancelot find out by accident.  Freya, Gilli, and Daegal find out by necessity, because Merlin needs to leverage his magic in one way or another in order to save their lives.  Even Arthur is a forced confession, demanded by desperate circumstances.  

Merlin doesn't choose to reveal himself to those people.  It's something that's pushed onto him.  Will is a singular instance.  Merlin has only voluntarily shared his secret with one person - just because he wanted to, not because he was forced to, just because he trusted them, just because he wanted that connection so badly.  

And it leads to such painful consequences, in the end, that he never does it again.

in conclusion:

So, to summarize, my foundational thoughts on how this went down can basically be boiled down to those four things: it wasn't the result of carelessness, Merlin was the one who let it slip, it was a huge disaster with long-lasting consequences, and part of the reason why it went so badly is because Hunith found out that Merlin had voluntarily told Will about his magic, as opposed to Will finding out accidentally.  

But, as always, those are just my own personal thoughts about it, and I am still 100% happy to read about all sorts of differing envisionings of this scenario - nothing is confirmed in canon, obviously, so for people who imagine this event differently, have at it!  The world can always use a little more of Merlin’s pre-canon life, if you ask me. :D

[swanqueeneverafter]

The Once & Future Queen Pt.2

Storybrooke. Present. Mayor's Office. (Snow White sits down with the brand new Reporter for the Daily Mirror.) Reporter: "So, Snow White, tell us about what's been happening in Storybrooke recently?" Snow White: "Well, as you know it's been a pretty tough time for our family and Storybrooke's community as a whole. The last time Emma went back in time, she was back before any of us could notice, but it's been a week already and we just don't know when she'll return." Reporter: "You say 'when' as if you're certain Emma will be back?" Snow White: (Nods:) "Absolutely. There's not a doubt in my mind that Emma will be back." Reporter: "What makes you so sure?" Snow White: "Because that's what we do in our family. We find each other. Always." Reporter: "I see. Moving on slightly, Tiger Lily and Mulan were also victims of the time travel spell. How do you see them coping with their current situation, wherever they might be?" Snow White: "Mulan and Emma have travelled together before. She's a strong leader and excellent fighter, so I'm very glad that they're together in this. As far as Tiger Lily's concerned, I couldn't say." Reporter: "There are rumours that Tiger Lily was once Morgause's Fairy Godmother. That it was she who took the child to be raised by the High Priestesses of the Old Religion." Snow White: (Shaking her head:) "Uther Pendragon is the one responsible for what happened to his daughter." Reporter: "Very well. Tiger Lily's wand was found amongst the wreckage of Camelot's council chamber, is that true?" Snow White: "Unfortunately, yes. If Tiger Lily had managed to hold onto her wand, I believe she, Emma and Mulan would have already returned to us." Reporter: "Because that's how your daughter returned from the past the last time?" Snow White: "Correct." Reporter: "Okay. One last question for now then." Snow White: "Fire away." Reporter: "With Emma now missing, it neutralises the one thing Storybrooke had in its favour above all the United Realms; the combined magic your daughter shares with Regina." Snow White: (Shifts uncomfortably in her seat:) "And your question is?" Reporter: "Knowing that Morgana and Morgause are both still free, should the people of Storybrooke be concerned for their safety?" Snow White: (Takes a breath:) "As some people are aware, I have been taking over some of Regina's mayoral duties lately, which includes assuring the people that things are well in hand. All I can tell you is that as long as Morgana and Morgause are out there, no one knows what their next move might be."

Seas of Meredor. (Morgause and Morgana continue across the sea with the ferryman. Wyvern shriek as they fly around the fortress while the boat continues to the isle.) Enchanted Forest. Past. (Tiger Lily and Tinker Bell sit talking outside a tavern.) Tinker Bell: "Wait, so you're telling me that not only are you from the future, but where you're from those two are married?" Tiger Lily: "Shh, keep your voice down. (Nods:) Yes and they have a son and daughter together." Tinker Bell: "Wow. I guess the Pixie dust did lie." Tiger Lily: (Shrugs:) "Not really, I mean it did lead Regina to her True Love." Tinker Bell: (Considers, then smiles:) "Yeah, I guess that's true."

(Sitting at another table, Emma and Regina talk while Mulan stands a short distance away looking pensive.) Emma: "So, why didn't the King take you with him on his royal visit?" Regina: "Oh, my husband and King Midas are old friends. With Midas now a widower, Leopold thought I would be too bored while the men discussed business of state." Emma: "I see." Regina: "To be honest I think he much prefers when I stay at home to look after his daughter, Snow White. (Catches herself:) I'm sorry, that was rude of me, we've only just met and here I am burdening you with my problems." Emma: "Not at all. It must be hard to be viewed more as a babysitter than a wife." Regina: "Yes. Although in some respects, it's very much a relief." Emma: (Reading between the lines:) "You and the King haven't..." Regina: (Shakes her head:) "Oh, no. I am barely older than his daughter, and as 'Royal babysitter' it would be unseemly for the King to be sleeping with the help. (Both women chuckle at this:) There I go again, being most indiscreet about palace life." Emma: "Perhaps I make you feel comfortable enough to speak your mind?" Regina: (Smiles:) "I think you're right. (Picks up her tankard:) It's a refreshing change." (They clink their tankards together and drink.) Royal Guard: (Approaching their table:) "Queen Regina." Regina: (Turns to him:) "Yes?" Royal Guard: "Snow White sent me and my men to find you. She became worried when you weren't in your room this morning." Emma: (Under her breath:) "God forbid." Royal Guard: "What was that?" Regina: "Well as you can see, I'm fine, thank you very much." Royal Guard: "I have orders to escort you back to the palace." Regina: "And so you shall, after I am done speaking with my friend here." Royal Guard: "My orders-" Emma: (Rising from her seat:) "Listen, pal. The Queen and I were just talking, there's no need for-" Royal Guard: (Draws his sword:) "Stand back, wench, or I shall have you arrested." Regina: (Also stands:) "On who's authority?" Mulan: (Running in:) "Come on, Emma. Let's go." Royal Guard: "Listen to your friend, Miss, or there will be trouble." Regina: "Now wait just a minute." Royal Guard: (Grabbing Regina's arm:) "I'm sorry, Your Majesty, I have my orders." Emma: "Hey! Get your stinking hands off her!" Royal Guard: "Out of my way, harlot." Regina: "Hey, you're hurting my arm!" Emma: "That's it." (Emma hauls off and punches the guard, sending him to the ground. Sighing resignedly, Mulan draws her sword and turns to the oncoming guards. Dispatching them quickly, the warrior turns back to see Emma straddling the man and beating his face to a pulp.) Mulan: (Pulling Emma off of him:) "Now we really need to go, before reinforcements arrive!" Emma: (Giving Regina her most regal bow:) "It was a pleasure, my Queen." (With that, Mulan and Emma take off running into the woods while Regina waves after them, smiling. As the Royal Guard staggers to his feet behind her, Regina elbows him in the face, knocking him unconscious.)

Isle of the Blessed. Present. (Morgause and Morgana approach an altar.) Morgause: “Samhain is almost upon us. We must hurry.” Morgana: (Stops walking:) “I can’t do this.” Morgause: “Sister. (Takes Morgana’s hand and together they continue forward towards the altar:) Remember what I told you. It is the only way. What you are about to do will affect everyone, even you. But most importantly, it will bring our enemies to their knees. You must be strong, remember that. (Morgause presents Morgana with a dagger:) Do not be scared. (Morgana takes the dagger:) I am not long for this world. There is nothing left for me here now. (Morgause weakly climbs onto the altar stone and takes Morgana’s hand:) Please, Sister, let my parting be my final gift to you.” (Morgause lies down.) Morgana: (Standing beside the altar, dagger raised:) “Eala leofu sweoster, paem gastum befaeste ic pe. Alys pa peoster pe inne onwunap.” (Morgana poises the dagger to strike, her eyes glow and she plunges it into Morgause’s chest. Morgause gasps. Morgana is blown off her feet.)

Xena & Gabrielle's Campsite. Woods. (Xena attempts to sleep while Gabrielle sits stargazing.) Gabrielle: “Looking out at the cosmos makes you think... about where we are... where we’ve been...where we’re going now.” Xena: (Rolls over and looks up:) “Yeah... and like the bigger now. Look. (Pointing towards the distance, both Xena and Gabrielle stare at the unusual activity taking place in the sky:) Have you ever seen anything like that?” Gabrielle: “No. But I think we’ve finally found where Morgana and Morgause are. What do you say?” Xena: (Nods:) “I say, let’s go check it out.” Isle of the Blessed. (Cailleach strokes Morgana’s cheek and Morgana wakes. Morgana sits up and sees the cloaked woman standing in front of the rift.) Morgana: “Who are you?” Cailleach: “I am the Cailleach, the gatekeeper to the spirit world. You have torn the veil between the worlds. (Eerie screams echo from the rift:) The Dorocha. They are the voices of the dead, my child. And, like the dead, they are numberless. (Morgana looks around in fear:) You are right to be afraid, Morgana. Your enemies will rue this day and all the destruction it brings, but you must beware. Tearing the veil between the worlds has created a new world, and you will not walk through it alone. The one they call Merlin will walk in your shadow. He is your destiny, and he is your doom.”

Enchanted Forest. Past. (Having successfully evaded capture, Emma and Mulan find themselves outside yet another tavern. When the heavens begin to open however, they have little choice but to enter.) Tavern. (A man is scrubbing the floor of the tavern.) Man: “Ah, great to see the Sheriff didn't scare everyone off. (Stands:) What can I get for you?” Mulan: “Oh, we didn't come here for the ale.” Emma: (Looking around:) “Nor, clearly, for the ambience. We came... (Turns to see the man, who is revealed to be Robin Hood:) Uh...” Mulan: (Stepping in:) “To get out of the rain. Do you have rooms here?” Robin: “We do, yes.” Emma: (Regaining her thoughts:) “Great. We’ll take two.” Robin: “Yes, well, uh, they’re not free.” Emma: “Right! (Pats her pockets:) I don’t seem to... Mulan? (Mulan shakes her head:) We don’t actually have any money.” Robin: “Then you have a problem.” Emma: “But we’re willing to work for a room. Right, Mulan?” Mulan: (Nods:) “Certainly.” Robin: (Looking Mulan up and down:) “I'm not in that line of business anymore.” Emma: “No but, it seems, you won't be in the tavern business, either. Was that a tax notice I saw on the door?” Robin: ��Get to the point.” Emma: “Please just let us stay here and we’ll work for room and board. You can’t say fairer than that?” Robin: (Considers:) “Hm. My wife was thinking about hiring some extra hands around the place.” Emma: (Laughs, relieved:) “You’re married?” Robin: (Confused:) “Yes.” Emma: “That’s wonderful news.” Robin: (To Mulan:) “Is your friend all right?” Mulan: (Nods:) “She’s had a long day, probably light-headed from exhaustion.” Robin: “Shame. I could have done with you starting tonight. This floor’s playing havoc with my knees.” Emma: (Reaching out for the cloth in Robin’s hand:) “Not a problem! So we have a deal, right?” Robin: (Hesitates then hands over the cloth:) “Agreed. (Removing his apron:) Your rooms are up the stairs to your right. Now if you’ll excuse me ladies, I think I’ll turn in and give my wife the good news.” Mulan: “Good night.” Emma: “Yeah, night.” (Robin leaves.) Mulan: “I don’t know what you’re so happy about. We just escaped the royal guards to work for a man wanted by the Sheriff.” Emma: “Oh, details details. Think big picture, Mulan. Now we have a roof over our heads, Robin Hood is married and I just flirted with a younger version of my wife.” Mulan: “Yeah, about that, I thought you were concerned about messing up the timelines?” Emma: (Agitated:) “You are just determined to see the bad side to everything, aren’t you? Look, don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. Now quit worrying, grab a sponge and help me wash this floor.” (Although still concerned by the day’s events, Mulan decides to let things go for now, instead concentrating on finishing the tavern floor so that they both might get some sleep.)

Village. Present. (On their way to investigate the odd light in the sky, Xena and Gabrielle pass through a village.) Xena: “It’s too quiet.” (They enter the village and all is silent. A door creaks loudly and they freeze until a goat bleats and wanders out. Continuing on, they enter one of the houses. Inside, they stare at the frosted corpses of some of the villagers.) Gabrielle: “What could have done this? (They turn as something flies past them:) You see that?” Xena: (Shakes her head:) “We are literally chasing shadows. Come on.” (They exit the house and search the village, now bearing torches. Xena splits off from Gabrielle when she hears a door shut in a barn. Gabrielle walks around cautiously and a chicken jumps out at her. She sighs in relief. Something shrieks quietly behind Xena and she sees a wisp of it as it exits the barn. Xena chases the shrieking wisp but loses it. Screams echo around Gabrielle. A wisp shoots straight for her.) Gabrielle: “Xena!” (Gabrielle uses her torch to repel the wisp.) Xena: (Running to her:) “What happened?” Gabrielle: “There’s something out there!” Xena: “You saw it?” Gabrielle: “When it saw the light, it fled. I don’t think it’s something you can chase or something you can kill.” (The shrieks echo.) Xena: “We need to get out of here.”

[markusxcamlann]

🌙 | 🍎 (with Xander)

"When he is with the lover, both cease from their pain, but when he is away then he longs as he is longed for, and has love's image, Anteros lodging in his breast, which he calls and believes to be not love but friendship only, and his desire is as the desire of the other, but weaker; he wants to see him, touch him, kiss him, embrace him, and probably not long afterwards his desire is accomplished.” -   Plato, Phaedrus 255d

🌙 a time my muse told the truth.

“Medrault.”  Morgause addressed, the Pictish woman was unforgiving, and while not omniscient, there was little that escaped the seer’s knowledge. Least of all were her eldest son’s late night escapades from the castle grounds. 

He turned, and dipped his head towards his queen mother, pretending to be naive to the source of her anger. “Mother.”  Medrault greeted, though when he drew his eyes towards hers he could feel the weight of her wrath behind them. 

“You missed a lesson, another.” Morgause accused, for as long as he could recall his mother had tutored him in the schools of magic by night, but he was not a child anymore, far from it, the man had been to war and come back again. Three times over, thirty years in age, and yet she still scolded him as a child. Moulded him as if he was still malleable. 

“Apologies, I took to private study in my-”

“Do not lie to me. Your brothers were there, perhaps I should Gawain to address you instead.”

“I am neither Gawain, nor Gaheris.” Medrault steadied, his disposition smooth, he was the prince, next in line for the throne. And his father, the king, was a very old man. “And you need not involve either of them.” There was little that could be concealed from Gawain, his baby brother was forever Morgause’s henchmen, his power to look into the minds of others was one that had proved useful to her in times innumerable.

“Do not miss another.” Morgause dismissed, she turned from him and Medrault felt himself release a breath that he had not realized that he was holding. The prince turned and headed towards the rookery, it was always among the birds and the beasts that the witch felt most at home. They were innocent, they hunted only to survive, they were not like his father, they did not kill because they enjoyed it, they were not like his mother, they did not kill to advance their own position. They simply were - a state that Medrault longed to be. 

He stroked the inky black feathers of a raven and moved to tie a note to its leg as he whispered words of power against it, directions into the forest. Miserable. 

“Why the long face, brother?” Agravain appeared in the window, changed from a moth to a man, not a witch, but something else entirely. A changeling child, perhaps not his brother at all, but closer still than Gawain, Gaheris, or Gareth. Morgana, queen of Avalon had taken him under her wing long ago, he was a messenger of her sisters and her court, but loyal to Orkney just the same. An idea struck him suddenly, and Medrault felt himself smile and all at once Agravain appeared worried. 

“Take my place tonight.” Medrault pleaded, 

“Don’t you remember what happened the last time?” Agravain meant to argue, but Medrault knew as well as he that deceiving their mother was among his brother’s favourite pass times.

“This will be different, and Gawain cannot read your thoughts.”

“That is precisely how he’ll know.” Agravain rolled his eyes. “Perhaps you should send me to meet your lover instead.” Medrault appeared flustered but he did not deny it. “I worry, Medrault, the vyrkolakas have power over the mind - whose to say he has not made a thrall of you?” 

“He has not.”

“But he has.”

“Take my place in my bed tonight, pretend to be ill - send word through a servant, Morgause will not send Gawain to investigate.” Medrault asked instead, 

“You want me to spend my evening laid up in your bed, pretending to be sick?” Agravain clarified and Medrault only shrugged, an easy smile on his lips.

“I would do the same for you.” 

Agravain rolled his eyes but clasped his hand on Medrault’s shoulder and stared him deep in the eyes, his height lessened, his eyes changed, skin shifted and shifted as his hair length varied. After a moment it was as if Medrault was looking into a mirror. “I owe you, brother.” Agravain rolled his eyes and headed for the door. 

“That you do.”

Medrault had a practiced method for sneaking from the castle, the village welcomed the family, but his arrival would have meant that word would inevitably get back to his mother that he had once again deceived her. It was at the inn where the witch saw him once again, perched behind the bar, making idle chatter with patrons, hidden among plain sight. Their eyes met and the blonde excused himself.

All at once the vampire’s lips were upon his own, desperate hands pulled away layers of clothes in the man’s room and quietly Medrault returned every kiss, every touch with intense vigour. 

“You came back.” Xander whispered, his teeth bit playfully at Medrault’s neck as he did, a blush high on the prince’s cheeks. 

“Haven’t I always?” 

“You have, but I thought you’d get bored of rolling around with the innkeeper by now.”

“You’re much more than that.”

“Maybe.” Xander shrugged, they had landed on the vampire’s bed and remained there still, Medrault was in no rush to return to the palace. Even if his deception was not yet discovered, there was his father’s oppressive rule, Medrault’s need to conceal his magic, his mother’s machinations, and the prince’s requirement to hide his own desires. 

Medrault studied the man’s features closely, all the stories he heard of vampires painted them as monsters, just as the stories he heard of witches painted them as consorts of evil. Perhaps the two of them made for the perfect pair then, but the prince did not feel evil, nor did he see a monster when he looked at Xander. 

“What do you want? Here, with me? In Orkney.” Medrault asked, the man had come to town several years prior, and this, what they had become to each other, it had not happened all at once. But slowly, over time. 

“What I want is no longer in this world.” Xander said, his tone solemn, though he had turned his gaze towards Medrault, eyes full and inquisitive. “What about you, what does a man who will be King want?”

Medrault considered the question for a moment. He knew his destiny, Morgause had laid it out before him, and what he truly wanted was muddled within.

“I want to live in a world where people like us do not need to hide who we are.”

🍎 a time my muse felt safe with yours.

“Long live the King!” The Picts were chanting his name, the genasi had ascended in the Kingdom of Orkney, and while there were whispers of his birthright and legitimacy, there were none that made it as far as the court. One of his first acts was to ensure that Xander had a place at his side, Medrault had a wife, children, but only as it was necessary for the man to ensure he had an heir. It was his plan to not require one, immortality would be his, as Morgause had predicted, King Lot’s feeble old age had finally claimed him. 

All of Orkney bowed, they would take the mainland next, all of the North would be theirs, then they would continue their conquest across the fields of Albion where they would meet Arthur in the decisive battle of Camlann. Morgause had promised this all, excalibur would be his, and once the Roman foreigners were exterminated, and their God was chased from the realm, the Picts would pursue them to their holy Roman cities and bring them to heel. 

The great warrior and huntress Althaia had trained him and his brothers herself, she would fight by their side, Xander, too, would join them. And with Medrault’s dark magic then Arthur himself would be made to kneel. His brothers remained around Arthur’s round table, but Agravain had dutifully sewed the seeds of deception, infighting would surely tear the noble knights apart, and while Medrault was still counted among them, the King’s first responsibility was to his court. 

Morgana and her sisters who ruled Avalon had not pledged themselves to him, it was their desire to remain neutral, long time friends of both sides, she had pleaded for Medrault to reconsider his actions. But he refused, and instead he turned to Morgause, she whispered to him the plan as it was delivered to her from the heavens above.

In the days that followed his coronation, Xander had position in the court, and place in the king’s bedchambers. It was here that Medrault could shed the mantle of responsibility that had overtaken him, free from the burden of responsibility, Xander had known him for nearly two decades, and would remain at his side for two more until the genasi’s untimely death. 

“I wish we could just stay here, forever.” Xander commented, their limb intertwined, Medrault’s fingers splayed idly against a chest with no heartbeat beneath. “I mean, we could. But you want to take over the world.”

Medrault laughed. “We could.” 

“Then why don’t we.”  Xander asked, his tone more serious. “Take it from me, the more you have, the more you have to lose. Why is one kingdom not enough, you are to be whomever you wish here. We can be whatever we wish.” He punctuated this point with a kiss and Medrault found it difficult to argue.

“Because it’s my destiny.”

“Destiny does not give a damn.”

Medrault had gone silent, Xander had a point, there was safety here, assurance that their time together could not be disturbed. He was king, none would contest that.  A knock on the door disturbed his thoughts. “Enter.” The king commanded as a messenger stepped in, his eyes shifted between the vampire and the genasi but only hesitated for a moment.

“It’s your brother your grace,”

“Agravain? What of him.”

“He was killed, by Lancelot - his body is.” 

The room fell silent, but Medrault was on his feet immediately and riding to the shoreline where Agravain’s corpse had been left. If there was remains to be seen, if the rot was not too severed, his dark magic might yet save him. 

Agravain had indeed been murdered, his body run through by a spear and stabbed into the earth, a warning for any who dared betray King Arthur of Camelot. Medrault’s features hardened, Xander was at his side, but that was where he would remain. The king looked to his men, 

“Retrieve the body, bring it to the castle, I’ll require one of the prisoners as well.”

[anorakofavalon]

Another Way Chapter 2

If you haven’t, go check out Chapter 1 here.

The candles flickered in all of the ways that candles shouldn't flicker - just on the edge of being extinguished by a vengeful draft in her chambers, the light within a sharp contrast to the world outside. The moon hoisted itself up an inky Yuletide sky, brandishing light onto the courtyard of the castle, which itself was empty but for one or two couples chatting near the doors to the central hall. Music danced across the castle, but it had began to dwindle, sweeping inwards until there was no more music at all, just the silence of slumber. The feast had come to a successful finale. It was a feast marking the new year, which meant that she was fairly tipsy on wine. Red, of course, to suit the occasion.

Winter in Camelot was a wonderful affair most years. This year it was not. This year the snow struck firmly against the ground, obscuring what little was left of autumn's remains with no small measure of ferocity. Under the barrage of snow that had been going on for weeks, it was perfectly natural for her to feel an inclination to drink more than usual. If only to do away with the boredom.

A part of her she very much resented suggested that maybe she was drinking away the nerves over her looming meeting with Merlin and not boredom. She dismissed the notion entirely, she chose instead to look out her window into the nothingness below. The city was slipping into sleep, and only the glow of hearthfires suggested life. It didn't make for great sightseeing, but it was a tranquil enough image to make her think - which was something she wanted to avoid entirely. Again she turned, this time away from the window, just in time to hear knocking at the doors of her chamber. Her heart answered with four knocks of its own, and her mind was quick to interject: was this worth it? Maybe it'd be better to just kill him and be done with it. She contemplated feigning sleep. Perhaps this conversation wasn't worth having after all?

Morgana stomped her foot physically. What was she, some ditz? What would Morgause say about all of this? She was Morgana, daughter of Gorlois. She didn't hide in her chambers. She wanted the truth. She wanted justice. She deserved a proper explanation of just about everything. And what she did with the information after… well, whatever she did, Merlin asked for it.

Morgana finished her wine and left the chalice by the bed. She took her time on her way to the door. Any discomfort she could cause the manservant was discomfort well-earned.

She opened the oak barrier and he stumbled in a little bit. His ears were bright red and she couldn't tell if it was because he was embarrassed or because he, too, was a little inebriated. She was comforted by either of those two concepts. Even Merlin needed a drink to deal with nerves. But was it really surprising? And when had her idea of him shifted so very much? Before, she might have said that Merlin especially needed drinks to deal with nerves. She avoided him for weeks for a plethora of reasons, all valid (of course), but that one ranked high among them. She couldn't yet properly reconcile the three versions of Merlin she had in her head.

Was he a bumbling, clumsy manservant? Was he a betrayer and a murderer? Or was he a creature so singularly powerful as to be capable of taking apart, with his hands, a conduit of magic forged by a deity?

She left the door open and moved back to her chalice, refilling it and taking a swig at it in quick succession. If anybody were to ask her, wine was without a doubt the greatest innovation in history.

Merlin closed the door behind him softly and offered a "Hello, Morgana."

She wanted to shove him out the window. "Merlin."

He glanced at the chalice in her hand with a good measure of longing and she smirked into her drink as she took it to her lips. For all that she was confused and angry, she was desperate for small victories. They were just about all she had. "Finally come about enough courage to explain yourself?"

That was unfair, and Morgana was well aware. She had been the one to avoid the meeting, but he wouldn't call her out on it.

He raised an eyebrow, but that was all. Merlin took retribution by walking around her chambers with more confidence than he had the right to. Any lingering sense of clumsiness from him was quickly dispelled. His face and his body were a study in contrasts - suspended between the face of a sorcerer, sharp eyes singularly focused on her, and the lean anticipatory stance of a servant, hands behind his back clasping each other, feet shoulder-width apart. Morgana wished very much that he would stick to one. Still, her remark got him into a liminal place. He had come as a servant. Or maybe it was actually just Merlin? Now she had to choose. Who did she want to talk to tonight? The Sorcerer or the Servant? Who had the answers she sought?

She decided on pawning off the decision to Merlin. "So, would you like to start off by talking about the time you killed me? Or maybe just everything that led up to that?"

There was much more bite in her comment than he had probably deserved, but if Merlin was of three natures then she was of four. Just because she refused to be out-classed. The weeks since Merlin's confession had done very little in the way of softening the blow, let alone placating her. Her outrage festered faster than her peace with the past. But Morgana was seeking resolution and she was willing, perhaps foolishly, to give Merlin the benefit of the doubt.

He ignored her comment, and she was mildly infuriated that he, he, wanted to take the high road. "Well, I believe I've told you a fair bit about the circumstances that led up to my arrival here in Camelot."

He took a seat at her table.

Morgana nodded and followed. She remembered. She replayed it in her head nightly. The scene had even come to dominate her dreams, despite Morgause's dream bracelet.

"So, a dragon told you that you were meant for great things. That explains your self-righteousness, but it doesn't do much to explain how you became Arthur's manservant."

He took the reigns, and settled back into being just Merlin. "Well I guess I should have known I was going to pay for calling him a prat, that first day. Yet here we are.

"It was really simple, actually. That poor woman, the witch, she wanted to kill Arthur. Naturally, I couldn't let that happen. Even though Arthur really was a prat. I saved his life, and what was my prize? Servitude. On the bright side…"

Merlin took a moment. "Actually, you know what? Not much of a bright side. Arthur doesn't even really pay me well. I suppose meeting Gwen was a good thing, but honestly, I had met her before I was Arthur's manservant, so I don't really think that counts?"

Morgana snorted. Surely the result of wine. Merlin raised an eyebrow at that, which she felt was a facial gesture likely acquired from being around Gaius too long. But the way he rambled? That was certainly one hundred percent Merlin.

"It's interesting that you complain about Arthur so much and yet you're so quick to defend him. Even at the cost of others."

Merlin's countenance withdrew upon itself a little at that, and Morgana found herself to mildly regret her remark. All things considered, this was the most pleasant they've been to one another in months. But she had to push him in the direction she wanted — the truth. Unfiltered, unadulterated. Admittedly she wanted this conversation to sting a little. If not her, then at least him. It'd feel almost unsubstantial if it didn't. And this, this was anything but unsubstantial.

"I complain about him because he needs to hear it. I defend him because he's my friend, Morgana. I don't see the need for any more reason than that."

She reached for some more wine and offered him the pitcher. His eyes glowed and the pitcher floated away from her hands and towards him. It poured its contents into his chalice.

The showmanship of magic was bold and offensive and utterly enchanting. Never before had Morgana seen magic used in such a frivolous, simple way. There was no flash of light, no puff of smoke.

"Did you have friends," she asked, "before coming to Camelot?"

"I had Will," Merlin said, "but aside from that I can't bring to mind many more than that."

"Will?" Morgana furrowed her brows. "Was he the sorcerer who saved us at your village? The one that…"

"The one that died?" His voice was even.

"Yes."

He pulled at his drink. "Well technically, I was the sorcerer who saved Ealdor. He was just a great friend."

"He took the blame for your magic as he died."

"Like I said, Morgana. He was a great friend. And I guess in some regards there is more power in that sort of friendship than there ever was in any magic. I should know, I've had magic all my life."

His implication was delightfully hypocritical. She made sure he knew. "Is there? Magic doesn't betray. It doesn't poison."

"But magic doesn't sacrifice itself for your sake either, Morgana. It doesn't pretend to be a servant to protect you. It doesn't scrub floors or clean stables."

"Well, clearly it's never done so for me, no. I wonder what makes me so undeserving."

Merlin said nothing, and she became impatient with the quiet.

Morgana scoffed. "All of that power, and look at you… You kneel before mortal princes."

"Yes, Morgana. I do. I've called forth lightning from the sky. I've commanded dragons. I've wielded a blade forged in a dragon's breath." He smiled. "And never in my life have I felt more powerful than I do when I stand by the side of a good man."

She narrowed her eyes. "You get awfully philosophical when you're drunk. Would you like to open a window next time you have a monologue to deliver? It'd complete the image."

"And give you the opportunity to push me out of it? I don't think so."

Morgana wondered, briefly, if he had overheard her thought about doing just that earlier.

"You think Arthur is a good man?"

"Don't you?"

She paused. "He will never allow magic in Camelot. It doesn't matter what he is."

"Sometimes achieving the greater good isn't worth sacrificing good people."

"Aren't we sacrificing enough good people as it is, Merlin? Every time Uther hears anything to do with magic he goes on a killing spree. Innocent people damned for something so beautiful."

Merlin groaned in exasperation. "Do you think I just twiddle my thumbs all day Morgana? I spend all of my time here helping sorcerers escape the dungeons. Or, at least the ones who aren't, you know, trying to kill Arthur. Or the king. Or me. Which is a surprising minority of the sorcerers who come to Camelot."

Morgana swirled her chalice and leaned forward, tilting her head. Her hair brushed against the wooden grain of the table. "Tell me about that."

Merlin sighed. "Which one? The stories are plenty but the hours of tonight are very much not. You may not have a job Morgana, but I do. And waking up Arthur when he has a hangover is a feat worthy of its own feast so…"

"How many people have tried to kill Uther? Or Arthur?"

"A sizeable and diverse amount of people. From peasants to high priestesses. Even you gave it a go once."

Morgana's eyes sharpened onto him. "How did you know?"

Merlin shrugged. "I watched you choose against killing him. It was sweet, really. Not murdering him was awfully considerate."

Morgana parted her lips but nothing came out. A moment passed. "You didn't stop me?"

"I let you stop yourself."

"Did you know that I would… that I wouldn't kill him then?"

"Well, no. Yes. Actually, I had no idea. But I had faith."

"You're a fool, Merlin. And so am I. For not killing Uther then."

"Yes, we're both idiots. Will that be all for tonight?"

Merlin moved to the window she had stationed herself at earlier. He watched the night march on as flitting little snowflakes danced the distance from the sky to the ground. He made no move to leave.

Morgana stood up herself and neared the window as well, unsure if the burning she felt within was ire or wine. "I'm not the only one here with things to be ashamed of Merlin."

Merlin turned to her. "I never said you were."

"Well then why do you look at me like I'm some unfortunate black sheep?"

Her voice was low and thick with frustration. Merlin kept his eyes on hers, listening carefully.

A sigh. "Despite your conviction otherwise, not everything is about you, Morgana."

She scoffed immediately. "Oh that's just rich coming from you, isn't it Merlin?"

"I don't ask for these things to happen to me Morgana!"

"And that's your problem isn't it?" She sized him up. "You lack initiative."

He glared. "And you lack perspective."

More wine. "Then give me perspective, oh mighty sorcerer."

Merlin was ready to bite back, but then "Did you call me 'oh mighty sorcerer'?"

Morgana blinked. "I… yes?"

Merlin covered his mouth, eyes twinkling.

"That's not funny Merlin, it's insulting."

His shoulder shook with laughter and a giggle broke free. Morgana was flustered and utterly bewildered as he began to laugh.

"Oh, that's hilarious. If only Arthur could hear this."

Slowly his laughter made her giggle involuntarily. "Merlin the Almighty Sorcerer. Who would have thought?"

He laughed harder until there were small tears collecting at his eyes. He wiped them away and they settled into silence.

It was a strange encounter, really. But it was a strange night, too. That the weather should be terrible on a great evening, that enemies laugh together, these are the sort of odd occurrences that make the world so genuine.

But were they really enemies? Merlin toyed with his chalice as the silence marched on with soft steps.

"I didn't want this destiny, not at first."

Morgana's eyes settled on him.

"I told the dragon that Arthur couldn't possibly be the right king. He said 'Arthur will be the greatest king to ever live.' I thought the dragon was crazy. I didn't really believe until I drank the poison. Arthur risked his life to save me."

She didn't respond.

"And even after that I still doubted. At least a little. But he always proved himself when I wasn't expecting him to. I never really had a lot of friends, growing up. It was just Will, really. So if Arthur isn't the Once and Future King? I'd at least have made a good friend. But I think he is the king." He stopped briefly, then said. "Do you remember when he helped us smuggle out Mordred?"

Morgana nodded. Her green eyes were focused. "Why did you help me?"

"Like I said, Morgana. I don't twiddle my thumbs all day. My goal is to make sure Uther can't cause any damage to anyone who doesn't deserve it."

She contemplated it for a time. "And you? Who's going to stop you from doing damage to people who don't deserve it?"

It was a sharp remark, but tonight wasn't about making any sort of amends. Tonight was about discovering how deep the wound between them goes.

Merlin bit the inside of his cheek, and then grinned. "Gaius constantly tells me off if I don't do things the right way, so I suppose he would be a significant safeguard against me dropping the ball."

Damn him, it was back to this.

"You care for the old man a great deal."

He raised an eyebrow. Like Gaius.

She was careful with her words. "Back in Ealdor, you introduced us to your mother but… we never got to meet your father."

Merlin took a big swig of wine at that, and Morgana was briefly concerned that soon they'd run out of the fuel of the conversation.

He maintained his disposition. "To be fair, at that point, neither had I."

"At that point?"

"I had the opportunity to meet him later on. Briefly."

"Briefly?"

His smile was rueful. "Complicated."

"Tell me about it."

He raised an eyebrow, tapped his fingers on the wood of the table. "Any particular reason you want to know?"

She put a hand under her chin, and watched him. "Complicated."

He shook his head. "When I released the dragon, there was only one person who could command him to cease his war against Camelot, a dragonlord. The last one. Take a lucky guess who it was."

"Oh."

"The power is passed down generation to generation. My father died in my arms. He took a blade meant for me."

She surprised herself and moved her hand to his before thinking better of it. She settled for "I'm sorry."

"What for? You were off with your sister by the time that happened. Not your fault." He swirled his chalice. No more wine.

"Regardless, I got the man who did it. Not that it made me feel any better."

Morgana knit her brows. "Did you…"

"Yes."

"Oh."

He nodded, and silence followed.

Morgana cleared her throat to speak but whatever she meant to say came out in a whisper. "How many?"

"Enough for me to understand that I am not a good man, Morgana."

She wasn't sure what to say about that. As much as she had dreamed of putting an end to Uther, she had never had to actually kill or even hurt anyone. The idea that Merlin had… it was unsettling. But she should know, shouldn't she? She was one of his victims, in a way.

His face was blank, but his eyes were clouded with regret. Or pain.

"Is that why you… you believe in Arthur so much? Because he's a good man and you're-"

"A monster?"

"That isn't what I was going to say."

He chuckled humorlessly. "Oh, wasn't it?"

Merlin was withdrawing fast. She wished desperately that she hadn't pushed him into exploring his own morality, but she was getting close. To what, she wasn't sure. To something. Too bad she couldn't conjure up anything to say.

"I don't think you're a bad person Merlin."

He flicked his gaze over to her, and he maintained it.

She continued. "I just think…" Morgana offered a weak smirk. It was more of a bashful smile. "I think you're just a little misled. A bit dramatic. Certainly self-righteous."

He snorted, and she wondered at whatever spell she cast to lift the mood.

"You forgot to add charming, handsome, and utterly enchanting to that list."

Morgana scoffed. "And arrogant."

"An argument could be made for the word confidence being more suitable."

Morgana watched him as his gaze began to roam the room. "I'm sorry for pushing you about all of that, Merlin. It wasn't… right."

He shrugged. "I think we've both done a fair share of that."

She nodded, and looked out the window.

Merlin observed, "It's dark."

She couldn't quite bite back the remark. "Very astute of you Merlin."

He grinned. "I know. I just can't help being clever. But that said, I should be going now. It's getting late."

She smiled. "What's the rush? Got a peasant girl waiting for you?"

Merlin laughed heavily. "I wish I had the time. But I'm always so busy stopping you from your scheming that I haven't been able to do any romancing."

This question was one posed out of sheer curiosity. It would hardly harm anyone. "Have you ever had a girlfriend, Merlin?"

"Uh… no? Well, definitely not at the village. And here in Camelot, I've been too busy for that. I suppose I had a small crush on Gwen at some point. But… I mean…" He swallowed and offered a name, but he spoke it so quietly that she couldn't hear it.

"So there was someone?"

He nodded and cleared his throat. "Her name was Freya."

Was? Morgana's heart dropped. Had she just stepped on another landmine in this conversation? Again?

"She died." He explained. "I was in love with her, but it was all so fast that I wouldn't call her a girlfriend."

Morgana shouldn't have felt as bad for Merlin as she did. He poisoned me she said in her mind, like a mantra. It brought up no emotion. She couldn't bring herself to hate him for that anymore.

Merlin continued, answering her questions before she asked them. "She was cursed to turn into a beast at night by a sorceress. I freed her, and we were going to run away together. I was going to leave my destiny behind for her."

He smiled a little. "Actually, I even stole one of your dresses for her. Arthur caught me with it and thought I was going to uh… wear it myself."

Morgana covered her mouth. "And I missed that?"

Merlin chuckled. "You missed quite a bit, actually."

"Why didn't you leave with her, Merlin?"

"I tried. I was ready, but that night she turned into the beast, and Arthur and the Knights took her down."

Morgana's heart dropped.

"It's not their fault. They didn't know. I wasn't fast enough, I didn't know enough magic to prevent it at the time."

"I'm sorry I brought that up Merlin, I didn't mean to-"

He shook his head and gave her a closed-lip smile. "It brings me no more pain, Morgana. Whenever I think of her, I just remember the good parts."

"What did she look like?"

"She was beautiful." He meant to get up, and gave it a second thought. "She looked… like this."

Merlin waved his hand in the space between them, and the sparks flew from the candle on their table, shaping themselves into the image of… Freya. The air shimmered with magic, hummed with hints of longing and peace. The sparks faded. There was nothing between her and Merlin now.

"That was beautiful."

"I'm sure you've seen more impressive things by now, Morgana."

Morgana was exhilarated by the magic show. Even still. Her sister had never done anything like that. Morgana only knew combat magic.

She shook her head. "Not things like that."

Merlin watched her face for a moment or two, which gave her time to realize that they were fairly closer than she had thought.

"I can… teach you? Only if you want, that is. And only if you promise not to kill me with it."

Morgana smirked. "You owe it to me anyways. We're going to have to work on that last condition a little. I can't quite promise anything so far as that's concerned."

He got out of his seat. "Good enough for me. I'm going to go now. I have to wake up the princess early tomorrow, so…"

"Good night Merlin," she said.

He turned to her at the door. "Good night Morgana."

And he was gone.

Morgana stayed at the table for some time, thinking. Merlin was… something else. But she understood now, to a degree, even if it was only a little, exactly who Merlin was. That would be enough.

They could find another way.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Morgause Headcanons

Y’all I’m sorry I had to. I have a ton but here are a “few”

Morgause doesn’t get nearly enough attention as she deserves. The show also did her dirty and barely gave her the spotlight she should have. So here’s a bunch of headcanons that I came up with because it’s My City Now

I’m just super soft for this girl okay don’t @ me

Also if any of y’all ship Morcest then you can kindly fuck off. None of these headcanons that involve Morgana are shippy or supposed to be taken in that way. They’re healthy sibling headcanons and not fucking incest. Just fuck off in general if you ship siblings together.

* Really really really really REALLY loves spiders

* Tarantulas are her favorite and she has a bunch

* Morgause, with her tarantulas on her arms: I am the spider queen

* Names all her tarantulas after goddesses

* Calls them her “pretty girls”

* Then there was this one incident,,,,

* Morgause: *outside with one of her spiders*

Some hawk: *comes out of nowhere and snatches it up*

Morgause:

* Also snakes

* Would walk around with a python coiled around her neck

* Doesn’t like admitting she is/was wrong about something

* Doesn’t do well in emotional situations (i.e. freezes up, avoids eye contact, has a meltdown, loses control of her magic)

* Don’t ask for her comfort because she’s terrible at it

* The best she could do is:

* Gets uncomfortable when people invade her personal space

* Doesn’t enjoy being touched out of nowhere

* That being said, sudden hugs, too (Morgana learned that the hard way)

* Always has a weapon on her. Whether it be a flail or sword or a dagger hidden in her boots, she’s always armed

* Even though she has magic, she just feels a little safer with a weapon

* But if she doesn’t or magic isn’t a option, she will freaking bite

* Bite, scratch, spit, kick, punch- she will absolutely lose it if she feels cornered

* This one time she got her mouth covered by some bandit and her fight or flight instincts kicked in. Before she thought to use her magic, she clamps her teeth down on the man’s hand and bites off three of his fingers

* This other time another bandit had her pinned against the wall, touching her in a very provocative way. She was panicking, adrenaline making her act NOW and it wasn’t magic she went with. Instead, she bites down on the man’s ear and jerks her head, tearing it off completely. She literally bites off an ear

* Trust issues

* Prone to sensory overloads and she isn’t quite sure why. They make her sister worried, though

* Also panic attacks. She hates them and describes them as being one of the worst feelings in the world.

* She goes through almost all of them alone. This coping mechanism isn’t very healthy and it has taken a toll on her.

* Doesn’t know how to ask for help

* Sensitive to bright lights and loud noises

* Honestly sometimes forgets she has magic

* Will climbs things to get something she can’t reach

* Morgana: Sister, what are you doing?

Morgause, on top of a shelf and an oddly placed stool: Getting the poison

* Loves to draw and is actually a really good artist

* If she ever met Aithusa, she would try and get the baby dragon to sit still long enough to draw her

* Morgause, chasing Aithusa around the tower: So this clearly isn’t working

* Has drawn her sister MANY times because she just loves her so much

* Yes, Morgause actually cares deeply about Morgana

* She just has a hard time expressing it and usually it comes out the wrong way. Or every word is about revenge and her plots, while, deep down, she just wants to tell Morgana how much she means to her. But she can’t. It’s like she’s cursed and she hates it

* No this isn’t Morcest- some of you guys are just fucking disgusting

* Gets the Mom Friend™ treatment by Morgana

* Morgana: Sister, did you eat today?

Morgause: Yes, I did, MOTHER.

Morgana: >:O

* But then the next day....

* Morgause: Sister, this is our new ally, C-

Morgana: That’s MOTHER to you.

* Morgause may seem like this refined and sophisticated young woman, but she’s actually kinda ungraceful

* It’s the pressure of situations that make her seem like she knows what she’s doing

* Like she attempts to storm out angrily after an argument with a bunch of nobles or maybe some allies and she rams straight into the wall and knocks herself unconscious

* Her sister is always quick to cover it up

* Morgana: I laid down next to you so people would think we were chilling

* Allergic to hazelnuts and coconut

* When she had an allergic reaction, she started scratching at her throat, like she was trying to open up an airway. She actually made herself bleed from exertion and Morgana had to hold her wrists so she wouldn’t complete tear into her esophagus

* Is....really violent with herself when she’s upset....

* Claws, bites, scratches, pulls her hair out

* She’s not okay. She just acts like she is

* Morgause, after not sleeping for a week straight:

* Very tolerant of pain. She doesn’t know how to act around people being really worried about her, so she pretends she’s okay. So, overtime, she’s learned to endure many things

* Though, this usually ends up with her completely forgetting about an open wound and it gets worse

* Morgause, undressing and finding an infected gash in her side: ???????!!!??!??????!??!?!?!!??

* In a physical fight? Amazing. Perfect form. Very agile. In a magical fight? Powerful. Ready to act. Clever. In a verbal fight? Uhhhh

* Throw out a “Your golden eyes look creepy!!” and she’s dead. you did it. u obliterated her

* Claustrophobic and secretly afraid of the dark but don’t tell anyone

* Morgana, trapped in a tight, magic-canceling cell by Merlin: Alright. It’s okay. If we can just assess the situation and look for any weak spots in the wall, then we can-

Morgause, ramming the door so hard she splinters the wood and dislocates her shoulder: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

* Morgause is definitely that kid who was like “THE SUN IS TOO BRIGHT. IT HURTS MY EYES. IM GONNA FIGHT IT”

* She tried to freeze a lake so she and Morgana could walk over it and she slipped mere seconds after stepping onto the ice. Morgana laughs so hard she falls over on the shoreline, watching as her usually stoic sister is scrambling on the ice

* Morgana, at breakfast: Good morning, sister!

Morgause, running on seven hours of sleep for the past eight days: *grabs a banana, peels it, eats the peel*

Morgause: afternoon

* Hopelessly shy when it comes to nudity

* Morgana: Let’s go to the hot springs

Morgause’s monkey brain: ur sister wants to fuck u when u naked

Morgause: Actually I have to go water my horse

* There are burns and scars all across her back, on her upper arms, and around her thighs. They could be from failed magical spells that strain her body or from fights she got into. Maybe they’re from something else, though...

* She doesn’t like them and shows general signs of distaste when people see them

* Okay but if Morgana is able to persuade her to go to some hot springs it would be like this

* Morgana: What are you doing?

Morgause, standing in the water in a full set of armor: Bathing, sister, what do you think

* Prunes herself and likes being clean but can do it herself

* Morgana is the only person in the world who she would let comb her hair

* Super tender-headed

* Morgause: OW!

Morgana: I haven’t even touched you yet

* Sometimes forgets to eat enough

* When Morgause was holding Morgana’s unconscious, poisoned body, she was actually crying. Those tears weren’t fake or some kind of hoax. She couldn’t fathom the thought of losing Morgana like this. She just got her sister back and she couldn’t bear having her die in her arms

* And when Uther woke up and Arthur ran in with all the guards, she got super defensive and protective. She wasn’t going to let anyone touch her sister.

* She cried into Morgana’s chest after giving her the cure because she had expected her to wake up right away. She just sat there, ear pressed to her sister’s chest, listening to her heartbeat and praying that it didn’t stop.

[peaceheather]

Hello Heather, I have been a huge fan of your writing in Merlin fanfiction! I love how your fics have interesting spin to old tropes for ex. Heart lines (one of my favs!) is a great spin to soulmate type aus. Your stories have consistently strong characterization and writing. Thanks so much for bringing more stories to the Merlin fandom! >>> also selfish inquiry- are you still interested in continuing "these ghosts might be mine"? That fic blew me away and would love to see where it goes.

Oh wow, thank you so much! (Why does tumblr never notify me when I have something in my Inbox?? I hope you haven’t been waiting long for a reply.)

I loved writing Heart Lines because I’m ace myself, and it seems like there are only ”romantic” = “sexual” or else “platonic” = “friends” soulmates out there, and I just really REALLY wanted to see a soulmate that was romantic but not sexual. Because that’s how I feel most of the time, dammit. :)

As for These Ghosts Might Be Mine, thank you so much, but I don’t have plans to continue it. Partly, a full series rewrite would be a monster of a fic to explore, especially when you consider just how far from canon we already deviated before the end of Season 1 in These Ghosts.

And also, full disclosure, I haven’t seen most of the episodes of the show. I haven’t watched the Season 1 ep where Gwen’s father dies, and I haven’t gotten very far in Season 2 either. I've seen scattered episodes from Season 3 and 4, like one or two apiece, and only the second half of the Season 5 finale. Having already had my heart stomped on and spoiled for most of the rest of the show, I haven’t been motivated to watch more. But because of that, I just don’t feel like I could safely write a canon deviation when I don’t know the canon very well at all. I haven’t even met Morgause yet, and at the end of my fic, Nimueh is still alive... it all would just be a nightmare to try and figure out.

I’m so thrilled that you liked the fic as written, and that you want more is very flattering, but I have no plans to continue it. I hope you won’t be too disappointed.

[jayofolympus]

Hiraeth

In an old bookshop, beside an old university, in an old city, there stood two men. One of the men had hair as black as the void, and one had hair as white as snow, but both were very old too.

One day, late in 1967, the dark haired man sighed and closed the large tome he was paging through.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” he said to his companion.

It was not the first time he had said those words over the long years, and the white haired man sometimes gave him different responses. Sometimes he would say nothing, and sometimes he would say “I know” or “I feel the same” or “it has been a long time”.

“We must have patience,” he said this time. It was, again, not the first time he had said such.

The dark haired man often had different reactions to these words, too. Outbursts of anger were most common, or derisive comments about having had patience for quite long enough.

This time he just sighed.                              

“I am tired, Merlin,” he said, shoulders slumped as his fingers traced over the faded cover of the book in front of him. “Tired and old, and I’ve lost them again.”

The white haired man – Merlin – nodded, understanding very well how his companion felt.

“Look on the bright side, Mordred,” he said with false cheer, searching the shelves for a particular book, “At least we haven’t seen your old friend in a good long while.”

“That doesn’t bring my brothers back, Merlin,” Mordred sighed. “This eternal cycle of finding them and losing them every few decades weighs heavily on me. I grieve them as strongly every time as I did when they each were first lost. I would have Lancelot tied to my side every day until the end of time if I could save myself the grief of watching everyone die and my heart tearing to pieces for the thousandth time.”

***

“Traitor! You dare betray your king?”

“He lies, Arthur; he wants only to sow discord in our ranks.”

***

“Gawain, my nephew, my closest friend, I ask your counsel. Your brother Mordred attacks his fellow knights and accuses them of treason without evidence. Some claim that he is the traitor, aiming to steal my throne.”

“Do not act rashly, Uncle; Mordred is my mother’s favourite, and she will not forgive you if you cause him harm. Nor will I.”

***

“You know the price of treason, Mordred, son of Lot and Morgause.”

“You would turn kinslayer, Brother? I’ll not allow you to favour some snake over my youngest son – my last gift from my dear husband – and I swear to you now that your three lives are bound forevermore; what ends my son will be the end of you and Lancelot also.”

***

They met Bedwyr first, as they often did. Being one of the oldest of them from the beginning – Merlin excepted – he was the first to find them nearly every time, whenever he was in the same country.

It was the late ‘80s, and he was a young professor this time, teaching ancient languages to students interested in Old Welsh and Gaelic.

One day, two weeks before he was due to teach his first class at the university, he strolled into their bookshop, squinting at a list of books scribbled onto a scrap of paper. As the door clicked shut behind him, he glanced up at the tiny, crowded shop, with its overfull bookshelves and piles of tomes that simply wouldn’t fit on the shelves.

He took in the entire room in the space of a heartbeat, and turned his large eyes on the two shopkeepers, blinking slowly.

“Oh, it’s you. That’s odd,” he said, without a hint of the usual panic that tended to accompany the sudden emergence of memories of a hundred lives.

Mordred had always admired Bedwyr’s calm, collected nature, and how it allowed him to accept new situations without fuss. Situations such as this were a perfect example of his tolerant, adaptable personality.

The trio spent nearly two hours talking about the past, and about how they would proceed from there. Bedwyr slotted easily into their daily routine from then on, visiting them with coffee whenever he had time between classes and marking.

The next member of their merry band to join them was Morgana, breezing through town during the early ‘90s in the careless way she always did. The last time they had seen her, back in the 70s, she had been searching endlessly for more information on where Morgause had disappeared to all those centuries ago. Mordred was sure that she had been searching, but she had clearly been sure to enjoy herself while she was at it.

She had a way of riling everyone up and then going on her merry way, leaving them all in the dust, reeling in her wake. This time, she helped organise a protest at the university, caused a minor scandal (and family drama) by sleeping with a professor and then his sister, and left Mordred and Merlin with a new book of spells each, giving them each a kiss on the cheek and a wink as she danced out of the shop one last time and disappeared again.

Bedwyr was the only person who seemed completely unruffled from the visit, as always. Merlin was sent into a flurry of studying due to the new spells that Morgana had gifted them with, hoping to find new information on their predicament from them.

Mordred, on the other hand, was left rather peeved by the whole thing. He was too used to Morgana to be truly infuriated, but beginning to get tired of her lack of helpfulness. She’d been doing the same thing since their curse began.

***

“I’m as immortal as Merlin and your mother,” she’d said when he’d been surprised to see her forty years after Camlann.

“I don’t know how to find your mother,” she’d said, when he’d begged her for help.

“I’ll look for ways to break the curse,” she’d said, and disappeared for nearly sixty years, reappearing with no leads and only a couple of spells that were of no help whatsoever.

***

It had taken them a long time, trying every spell and magic they knew of, to discover that there was no way to break or lift the curse without Morgause, and nobody had seen or heard anything of her since Camlann.

After Morgana came Cai, which Mordred had not anticipated. Normally, Bedwyr would be followed by Bors or Pellinor, given that the three were of a similar age. Though it had happened before that one of the younger members of their group would arrive before some of the older members. On this occasion, Cai had been born nearly a decade earlier than he normally would be, and so found himself closer in age to Bedwyr than to Mordred’s brothers, who had not yet appeared.

Cai came to them already knowing who he was, having had a chance encounter with Nimue, the Lady of the Lake, as a child that had left the adults around him confused and unsettled by his changed demeanour. As soon as he had turned eighteen, he had begun to travel the length and breadth of Britain in hopes of finding the others, having had no real way to do so before then, and brought news with him when he arrived in their little bookshop one rainy day. “Bors is quite happy down in the south of England,” he told them, poking at the massive tomes full of poetry that were displayed closest to the door. A copy of the complete works of Shakespeare seemed to have caught his attention. “He said that he might visit at times, but he’s settled and comfortable, and the memory of so many lifetimes weighs heavily on him, though he wouldn’t admit it.”

If there was one quality that Mordred admired in Cai, it was his perceptiveness. The man was often brash and hot-headed, but he was intelligent, and gave good counsel when his temper had not been tried. He had been a loyal friend and advisor to Arthur, all those long lifetimes ago, when none of them would ever have thought that any of this would come to pass.

“Pellinor is not yet ready to remember us, though I suspect he’ll find us before long, and I believe that most of the others are still too young.”

Cai was more obtrusive in their routine than Bedwyr had been, insisting that they spent more time out of the bookshop and constantly dragging them to the pub he had bought near the university. He even managed to convince Merlin – without consulting Mordred – to hire a student to work in the shop part time to give the two owners more time away from their precious books. Merlin mostly used the extra free time to return to the meticulous notes he had taken over the course of the centuries on everything to do with the curse and their lives after it. He had taken note of any and all patterns that could be found in births, deaths, and everything in between. Mordred hated the notes; they were nothing but a reminder of their cruel fate.

He found that Cai’s pub was as good a place as any to avoid Merlin’s notes, and indeed he didn’t mind the company too much either.

Pellinor arrived less than a year after Cai, staying only for a short period to reminisce over past lives. His active, curious mind had him always in motion, travelling the globe in search of knowledge. Mordred didn’t begrudge him his travels, knowing that they kept Pellinor from growing too close to any of them, and saving him the pain of losing them all.

Guinevere did not stay long either, when they met her in the later end of the ‘90s. She came only to satisfy her curiosity, otherwise keeping to herself on campus, where she studied international law. She refused to answer to anything other than Jennifer on the few occasions they spoke, and after completing her degree she asked that they not contact her unless she first contacted them. After that, she went abroad to work with refugees and displaced families, though she sent short letters every half a year or so. There wasn’t enough regularity to them for Mordred to think she was doing it on purpose, and he was inclined to think that she only remembered to think of them that often. She was doing important work though, as she often did.

Others drifted in and out of town over the years, wanting to stay in contact, but happy to live their own lives, away from the oppressive weight of the past. Caradoc and Tristan both visited frequently, but did not wish to become permanent fixtures in their little band. Culhwch and Olwen lived happily in town, and could often be found on the outskirts of the group, but were too wrapped up in their own happiness to truly join the core of it. Two of the Elaines found themselves in a similar arrangement, sharing a flat near the university.

They met Gawain in 2006 as a young student in his first year, nervously asking if they would display a flyer in their window for a society event. He fidgeted and mumbled his way through an explanation of the ceilidh being hosted by the LGBT society. Mordred had grinned and immediately set about finding tape to stick the flyer in the window. His brother had spent many lifetimes hiding the fact that he was attracted to more than just women, and Mordred was keen to foster a sense of pride in him this time.

His brother took a very long time to remember the truth of his existence. For ten years he was a friend to them, visiting the bookshop regularly and meeting them for drinks in Cai’s pub. He blossomed from a nervous eighteen year old, reluctant to confess to being bisexual, to a bold, confident man of twenty eight, unapologetically queer, and proud of his identity. He wore makeup often, and invited his friends to watch him perform in drag without showing any hint of the young man who had stumbled and stuttered over saying “LGBT” out loud.

Mordred was immensely proud of him, but still often found himself laughing at the predicaments that Gawain found himself in.

“They’re both so hot, and I’m so screwed,” Gawain whined, head down on the table.

Cai laughed loudly, patting his friend on the back, perhaps a little too hard, if Gawain’s wince was anything to go by.

“They’re your bosses,” Cai reminded him.

“And married. To each other,” Gawain added miserably.

“Exactly. So pull yourself together and get over it,” Cai said, still chuckling. Had Gawain’s pathetic pining not been the subject of discussion at least once a week. Cai’s advice may have seemed callous, but they had heard endless complaints from their friend about how terribly cursed he was to have two people who were, in his own words “unfairly attractive” around him for several hours a day, five days a week.

“They were definitely flirting with you though,” Mordred said, taking a swig of his drink to cover the sly smile that was threatening to emerge. “You should talk to them about it, even if it’s just to ask them to stop because they’re giving you the wrong idea.”

He was endlessly amused by his brother’s plight, and having met Bertilak de Hautdesert, it was even more amusing knowing that the cause of Gawain’s distress was none other than the Green Knight and his charming wife.

Two days later, at around ten in the morning, Gawain stumbled into the bookshop, looking as though he’d had an interesting night. He was wearing his tightest pair of jeans, and still had glitter smudged under his eyes from the night before, but the soft, expensive looking green jumper he wore was clearly not his own, and was at least a size too big for him. He looked as though he had barely slept.

“You utter bastard!” Gawain snapped as soon as he set eyes on Mordred. “You knew all along that they were as interested in me as I was in them! You’re the worst brother ever.”

Mordred simply gawked at him, unsure of how to respond.

“I... I remembered everything,” Gawain added, blushing now. “I don’t know why I didn’t remember before. Surely you should have been the one to make me remember?”

Mordred nodded slowly, taking this in. He had been distressed too, when Gawain had taken so long to remember.

“Merlin theorised that perhaps because the magic that caused this, and the magic that I use, is in your blood, you are somewhat resistant to its effects,” he said. “All the same, I am relieved that you know the truth now. Tell me more about how you learned that the Hautdeserts were interested.”

The two spent the rest of the day discussing their pasts, and Mordred cried that night in relief at finally having his oldest brother back.

Agravain, Gaheris, and Gareth had all arrived in the ten years after Gawain had. Gaheris had come first, and had spent more than a year with them before he remembered, though his memory came back to him slowly, first in dreams, and then in waking recollections. Agravain, however, had rather dramatically passed out in Cai’s pub, and was out of sorts for days afterward, trying to sort through hundreds of years worth of memories.

Gareth had arrived last of Mordred’s brothers, which was not surprising at all, given that he had only been a handful of years older than Mordred, and therefore among the youngest of their little group. What had surprised Mordred was that he brought Galahad with him.

Gareth’s memories returned just as abruptly as Agravain’s, though slightly less dramatically, given that he simply sank into his seat with wide eyes, breathing heavily and fighting back tears, whispering his brothers’ names to himself as if seeing them returned to him from the grave. Mordred supposed that it must have seemed that way to him, given that he himself was the only one of them who had not died.

Galahad took a little longer to remember than Gareth did, though the two remained remarkably close. There was a certain tension between them caused by Gareth keeping the memories from Galahad, and he often looked wistful when he spoke to Mordred of Galahad’s lack of memory of their past lives, but even still the two were inseparable. Mordred was somewhat surprised by that too, given that he had never thought of the two as being particularly close friends; at least, no closer than any two people who shared in deadly adventures together usually were. Given that the two had also shared such adventures with the rest of them, it was rather confusing. It was clear that there was no romantic connection between the two, though Gareth remained much closer with Galahad than with any romantic partners he did have. One girlfriend even left him because of it, but Gareth had simply shrugged it off, saying that she wasn’t worth the effort if she refused to accept his friendship with Galahad.

It all began to make a little more sense the day Galahad burst into Cai’s pub, face flushed and wearing a bright grin.

“There’s a word for it!” he crowed, grabbing Gawain by the shoulders to shake him.

Gawain, still half-asleep from having been out all night for a performance, had blinked at the nineteen year old, confused and alarmed by the sudden display of excitement.

“A word for what?” Merlin asked politely, likely just trying to move Galahad along to an explanation so that he would quieten down.

“All of it,” Galahad said breathlessly; almost reverently, in fact. “I finally have a word for how I’ve felt for...”

All of the colour drained suddenly from his face, and he looked as though he might throw up. Mordred knew in an instant that his memories had returned, and Gawain seemed to have worked it out too, if the concerned tone he spoke with was anything to go by.

“You were saying that you’ve found a word for how you’ve felt?” he coaxed gently, guiding Galahad to a chair.

Galahad nodded absently, though he didn’t look any less ill.

“A word for how I’ve felt for centuries,” he said. “I’ve lived countless lives; had so many varied experiences, and yet I’ve only just discovered a word to describe one of the few constants in all of those lives.”

Gawain nodded sympathetically.

“I understand what you’re feeling,” he said, placing a hand on Galahad’s shoulder. “The first time I had a word for any of what I feel, for my bisexuality, and for my gender nonconformity, it was overwhelming, and frustrating, because it feels as though you have been barred for so long from an essential part of yourself. Finally having the words to describe yourself is freeing, but it comes with the cost of discovering that you were caged in the first place.”

“What word did you discover?” Mordred asked, voice soft. He didn’t want to interrupt the moment, but he knew Galahad well enough to know that once he spoke the words out loud, he would feel a great weight lift from his shoulders.

“Where is Gareth?” Galahad asked, looking around for his friend. “I asked him to meet me here; I want him to hear this too.”

Within a moment of having said those words, Gareth emerged from the bathroom, looking around the group in confusion.

“What did I miss?” he asked, moving immediately to Galahad’s side to check that he was alright.

Galahad took a deep breath and stood again, giving Gareth a shaky smile as he did so.

“I am asexual,” he announced, keeping direct eye contact with his friend. “And I am also aromantic. I do not feel sexual or romantic attraction toward anyone. However, you and I have the sort of bond that goes beyond either of those, even though it is platonic, and I want you to know that I love you.”

Gareth nodded slowly, a grin spreading across his face.

“I love you too, dude,” he said, pulling Galahad in for a crushing hug. “So does this mean we’re, like, platonic partners or something?”

Galahad blushed, having clearly not thought that far ahead.

“If that’s something you want,” he said, shrugging nonchalantly.

“Cool, we’re partners,” Gareth said, still grinning as he pulled Galahad in for another hug.

Such declarations were obviously cause for drinks, which Cai happily supplied, and soon the entire group had taken up half the pub, congratulating the partners and using the excuse to get drunk.

Mordred settled into his seat and watched the festivities with a warmth in his chest that he didn’t often feel. It was good to see everyone in the same place again, and it felt almost like home. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine that they were back in Arthur’s hall in Camelot, celebrating someone’s victorious homecoming. Arthur would have been the first to give congratulations, and he would have had the poets sing something cheerful.

Opening his eyes again, Mordred looked around the group. His brothers all stood around Galahad, Agravain and Gaheris thumping him and Gareth on the back as they said something that set everyone around them laughing.

Bedwyr, Bors, and Pellinor had all claimed a quieter corner to speak, likely of academic things, and Mordred could see Merlin making his way toward them.

Cai held court at the bar, giving a dramatic telling of one of his and Arthur’s earliest adventures to Tristan, Elaine, and Percival, while Caradoc gave advice to Culhwch and Olwen at a table nearby.

It was so close to perfect that Mordred could almost cry. It was the missing faces which did cause tears to slip free though. His uncle, and Guinevere were the most obviously missing. The scene felt almost empty without them, since he knew just how thrilled they would have been at seeing their friends and family so happy. He felt keenly, though, the absences of others; Ector, and Vivienne, Erec and Enide, Hector, Lanval, and Lyonesse, and Mabon, Morien, and Palamedes. So many were not there to see their happiness, and it was all Mordred could do not to weep at the knowledge that a day would come soon when he would lose all of those around him again, except one white haired old wizard who frequently became so absorbed in his books that he could go weeks without speaking to anyone.

A hand on his shoulder startled him out of his sad thoughts, and he glanced up to see Gawain smiling sadly at him.

“I know you, Brother, and I know how you must be feeling,” Gawain said. “Just enjoy the happy moments while they last, fleeting as they might be, and then look forward to when more happy moment will come.”

“Always so wise, Sir Gawain,” Mordred teased, shaking off his sombre mood.

“You’re always so serious, Mordred,” Gawain said, laughing. “Come join the party.”

Mordred spent the rest of the night taking his brother’s advice to heart, enjoying the moment while he had it. It wouldn’t last, be he intended to make the most of it.

The peace was shattered, however, no more than two months later, when Mordred was tidying the bookshop one Thursday evening, preparing to close up, and a bedraggled man stumbled in, looking lost.

Mordred turned, ready to greet a customer, and froze when he saw the man.

“It... it has been a long time,” Lancelot said, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets.

Mordred eyed him warily, vividly remembering their last encounter. It had been June of 1919, and Mordred had been roused from his reading by a pounding at the door, opening it to find himself face to face with the man who had been the cause of their curse. Lancelot had carried a French officer’s pistol, which told Mordred what his enemy had been doing during the War while Mordred himself had been in the trenches with scared young soldiers, and there was a wild look in his eye.

Mordred had wanted to laugh then, in his too-small flat in Glasgow, knowing that Lancelot had come to try again. Since Camlann, Lancelot had made countless attempts to kill him, though none had worked, and he surely had learned quickly that it was a hopeless effort. That day had been no different than the others, to begin with, and the tiny flat had been all but destroyed in the ensuing fight, but Lancelot had begun to sob in the aftermath, sitting in the midst of broken things, that Mordred had fled, unsure of what to do.

“I am not here to fight,” Lancelot said, hunching in on himself as he seemed to notice Mordred’s tension. “I know that I cannot make amends for any of what I have done,” he said, clearly steeling himself, “But I cannot carry on the conflict between us for any longer. I... I am tired Mordred, and I have been for so long that I cannot remember what life felt like before.”

Mordred nodded solemnly. He was intimately aware of how the centuries could take their toll on the spirit.

“Let me make you a cup of tea,” he offered, beckoning Lancelot through to the back of the shop, where the stairs to the flat he and Merlin shared were hidden away.

A wisp of magic locked the shop door behind them as they ascended, and Lancelot flinched as it swept past him. It seemed that he had not forgotten the kind of power held by those with Morgause’s blood.

“It was the War that broke me, I think,” Lancelot said over a half-finished cup of tea, refusing to meet Mordred’s eyes. “So much senseless killing, and so many young lives lost, that I refused to believe that it was not the prophesied hour of Arthur’s return. I had been alive so long that I didn’t care about power or thrones or crowns anymore; I didn’t care about Arthur himself at all anymore. When I found you in Glasgow, I thought it must have been a sign that things had finally come to an end; I hadn’t been looking for you there, just wandering through trying to find some semblance of purpose in the aftermath of such a tragedy.”

Mordred nodded, having felt much the same when the War ended. He had been sure that his uncle would return, and had been sickened by the things he saw on the front lines during his time there.

“I thought that I could finally rest,” Lancelot whispered, tears flowing freely. “If Arthur had returned, and put an end to the war, then I could finally pass from this world and be free. So when I saw you, I thought I had my chance.”

“It never occurred to you that worse things could happen to our island,” Mordred said, not unkindly. He understood. After all, he had not thought such a thing possible either.

They sat in silence for a moment, Mordred refilling their cups with his magic while they both pondered over the conversation.

“Where have you been since then?” Mordred asked, curious. “It has been nearly a century since we last met, and I have heard nothing of your whereabouts since then.”

The two spent hours discussing what had passed since their last meeting, and then hours more on what they each had missed before then. It wasn’t perfect, nor even particularly comfortable, but Mordred had lived long enough now to know when to leave the past well enough alone. Lancelot’s past crimes were not forgiven, but Mordred alone could not absolve him when so many others had been hurt.

Lancelot would join them, slowly, but none would forget that he was the reason for the missing faces at their table when they drank together, and Mordred would not forget that it was Lancelot’s plotting that had caused them to be cursed in the first place.

[glatisants]

Albion: The Legend of Arthur (Closing Thoughts)

I’m gonna start with some really general, spoiler-free notes on what I liked, what did and didn’t work, the characterization choices, and that kind of thing. Further down will a more specific discussion of the story and writing decisions and such, and that will get into more spoilery territory.

also before I get into my subjective opinions about the series, I want to say that this should be taken with a tremendous grain of salt, given that

I am probably not the best person to ask for lit recs in general, given that my favorite piece of Arthurian lit is unironically, wholeheartedly The Dream of Rhonabwy;

My standards for audio media are probably lower than most people’s—I used to listen to 1940s radio for fun and that has absolutely numbed my palate;

I’m a little biased, in that I think Owain/Ywain is sort of underrepresented in Arthurian media, and as such I get irrationally excited whenever he’s included as a character in anything, however loose that characterization may be (my caveat, though, is that I strongly dislike the real historical Owain mab Urien; I want a cool Owain/Ywain who is also very obviously fictional).

***

All in all, I liked it, but I’m not sure I liked it as an Arthurian adaptation. Something like this is kind of a departure for me—honestly, I’m not usually a fan of Arthurian adaptations that do away with the Round Table and make Arthur a 5th century warlord. Legendry, and particularly Arthurian legends, can be this very odd thing, in that it lies in this liminal space between pure mythology and, like, history fanfiction, and honestly that makes me very uncomfortable.

I get the sense that the writers’ main sources were mainly “chronicle”-type things and Welsh bardic poetry—things like Nennius, Aneirin, Taliesin, Geoffrey of Monmouth, maybe Layamon’s Brut, and possibly the Welsh Triads and the Mabinogion. When certain familiar narrative elements are stripped away—no Round Table, no Grail, no courtly love—it can be difficult to reconcile that with more traditional takes on Arthuriana. Still, it’s not like I’m an expert on adaptational integrity, and I know modern authors do weirder takes all the time. And some things—such as the sword in the stone, and the idea of a Round Table—are hinted at in a way that are tailored to the more “grounded” nature of the story, while still capturing the ideas that live behind the symbols. And magic and fantasy do enter the story, in a deeply satisfying way, even as the story is largely focused on politics and warfare.

The gritty, “realistic” setting of Dark Ages Wales can be a dealbreaker for some people; honestly, I’ve felt that way before. I did appreciate it wasn’t overly violent, and there wasn’t any rape/sexual assault—there is one scene where a character is implicitly threatened by a group of Picts (but to put it mildly, things turn out well for her), and in the final episode one character is almost forced into an unwanted political marriage, but those are the only moments I can think of. And the series as a whole ended up being more optimistic than I thought it would be. The main themes are that hope is a beacon that lights the way into the future, and that stories are powerful and immortal (a bit cheesy, perhaps, but I love that sort of thing).

Characterization Notes

Gwenhwyvar—I absolutely loved this take on Gwen; something about the way she was written just hit perfectly for me. She was incredibly clever, perceptive, and protective of her people above all else; she was serious, astute and pragmatic, but also kind and gracious. She commanded an army, and yet always approached conflicts with the priority of peace.

I’m not usually a fan of Warrior Princess Gwen because it can remove a lot of the subtlety of her character, but that problem didn’t come up here; they make a point of showing how she’s underestimated by her peers and uses this fact to her advantage in order to wield her power discreetly. But when she met for political negotiations with councils of men, they always spoke as equals, with nothing but respect for her.

Arthur—Honestly, he fell flat for me compared to the other characters, and I felt like I couldn’t get a good sense of him. Arthur can be a tricky character to write, because there’s this inherent need to make him stand out as a heroic figure, and that usually entails either seeing him eye to eye or elevating him to great heights; either he’s written as someone someone people can emotionally connect to and see in a personable way, or he is extraordinarily capable and thus untouchable. Here, I think that the pathos was largely found in characters like Anna and Owain, and that untouchable capability in Gwenhwyvar, and it seemed perfectly natural that the focus would move away from Arthur and towards them as the series progressed.

Honestly this might have been intentional—one of the points we’re left with by the end is the idea that Arthur grew to be far more than he ever could have realistically been, and that the hope he inspired was the reason he lived on in the stories, rather than who he might have been as a person.

Medraut—I found him a bit underdeveloped, and that was a shame—I really wish we’d gotten to see more of him. There were some mentions of his past friendship with Arthur, but that tension was hardly felt until they finally met in battle; I think there could have been a lot of potential there, and besides, he was a fun character. He was charismatic and affable, manipulative and petty, stuck on nursing old grudges; but he was also without friends, family or country, completely alienated and digging himself into a deeper ditch with every move he made. 

Owain—Genuinely uncertain how I feel about this characterization! He was intelligent, good-hearted, courageous, caring, and thoughtful; he was extremely likable, and I found that…a bit odd, honestly. I can’t really articulate my thoughts further than that. 

Others: Myrddin—this is the only take on Merlin I’ve ever genuinely liked. He’s such a nuisance and just beautifully weird. Aergol—I found him really interesting, and I was actually a little surprised by how much he grew on me by the end. Cynon—I found him such a tragic, miserable character, equal parts contemptible and heartbreaking. 

Room For Improvement

The pacing mostly fine, but a little bit odd in places—I felt like the final act could have used a bit more buildup.

Audio coherence could’ve been better during some of the action scenes—there were definitely a few parts where I was not totally sure what was supposed to be happening. Most of the time it didn’t bother me, but when it’s something like Arthur facing off against Medraut, that should be a dramatic high point, and I want focus and clarity; otherwise, whatever is trying to be conveyed will inevitably come across as anticlimactic.

I might’ve liked to see music used in more interesting ways, bc it can be really integral to effective sound design. There were a couple scenes where it was used really well (the leadup to the Battle of Badon, for instance), and I would’ve loved more of that.

I don’t know if this was supposed to be an intentional choice, but I could not take the Saxon characters seriously at all—they were performed in such an over-the-top way that they made me laugh more than anything else. The other characters were portrayed very well, I found the voice acting quite strong, so the sheer oddness of the Saxons stood out to me.

***

Okay spoilers below

I was all about Anna’s storyline and I think it was one of the strongest parts of the series. I loved the idea of this woman, killed unjustly for fiercely clinging to her ideals in spite of tremendous pressure, finding strength in her fallen ancestors and rising again as a powerful enchantress determined to seek revenge. It felt right for her, totally cathartic, and I was glad that she was treated so sympathetically.

I tried not to think about it too deeply, but I think I saw her as sort of a Morgan/Morgause composite; obviously the name Anna is associated with Morgause, and she’s linked with Lewdwn (aka Lot) of Gododdin, but her transformation to enchantress led her to call herself Morgan.

It was pretty clear that Owain had feelings for Arthur, but I sort of wish it was a little less implicit (fyi for people who haven’t read the other recaps, they’re the same age and not related in this). Like, I guess they were involved in a major plot point that was a pretty clear allusion to Achilles and Patroclus, and other characters kept mentioning rumors about them, but the most direct reference we got was Arthur confessing to Gwen that they had been together briefly when they were kids, and while Arthur never loved him, he had never thought to ask Owain how he felt. By the end, you kind of get the sense that Owain’s main motivation all along has been this love/loyalty, but it’s done in such a subtle way it leaves a lot of room for interpretation, and the fact that there was so much in their dynamic that went unspoken just exacerbates that.

I wasn’t sure how to read the ending and especially the final line. What I’m going with—just my personal interpretation—is that both Anna and Owain are stuck somewhere between life and death, possibly in a literal way as well as a figurative one. One of the recurring themes is, like, legendry as a means of resurrection and even immortality; legends are a place between life and death, where the dead are made immortal to walk among the living. So by the end, both of them have come to see firsthand how legends are made, and have become people tied to the liminal space of legendry, and thus belong to neither world.

I say this could be in a literal way as well as a figurative one bc Anna was given new life both through a physical transformation and the stories people would tell about her, and possibly some combination of both. And I think this could apply to Owain as well—maybe when he chose to take on the mantle of Arthur, he and his bronze sword somehow joined that part of the Otherworld with Anna and Merlin, and he became the proverbial King Asleep in the Mountain. But that might be a bit of a stretch. 

***

That’s all I have to say about this. I think the combined word count of all these posts could be a full-fledged novella, so thank you for your patience and for reading!

[newmoonflower]

This is a gorgeous fic, which for some reason just hasn’t gotten all that much attention. Possibly because the beginning is a little bit slow (mainly just because Arthur and Merlin haven’t met yet at the beginning) But it’s truly worth your patience!  (Add points if you love a Morgana redemption arc thrown in).

 Chapters: 4/4 Fandom: Merlin (BBC) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Arthur/Merlin Characters: Arthur Pendragon, Merlin, Morgana, Nimue, Freya, Morgause, Gwen (Guinevere) Additional Tags: Reincarnation, Reunions, Travel Summary:

When Merlin Emrys is sent on a 'round-the-world assignment, he begins remembering a life of magic, dragons, and kings. To make matters worse, a strange woman starts stalking him along the way. And that's before he even meets Arthur Pendragon, whose answer to climate change is going to save the world. Because apparently just saving Britain won't be enough this time around.

Edit: An eagle-eyed reviewer pointed out some mistakes/things that need to be fixed about Brasil. Apologies and I will do my best to fix them up.

[swanqueeneverafter]

The Once & Future Queen Pt.28

Fortress of Ismere. Present. Morgana's Bedchamber. (A raven arrives with a message for Morgana. As it lands on the window sill, Morgana rises from her bed and walks over to the window. Unfurling the message, she reads the hastily written note. 'They're coming, you must leave.' Morgana allows herself a small smile before turning on her heel and rushing from the room.) Storybrooke. Dr. Hopper's Office. (Reaching into his filing cabinet, Archie pulls out a patient file and turns to speak with his guests.)

Archie: "So, Maria has magic and you're worried about what that may mean for her future?" Regina: (Nods:) "We know our daughter is being targeted." Archie: "Well I must say I'm surprised you're seeking my advice as you've had no problem defending yourselves and others from the evils of this world before now?" Emma: "That's just it, this time we believe it's different. We think that maybe Morgana has plans to kidnap Maria and take her power somehow?" Archie: "I see." Regina: "The truth is we don't know what she wants and the thought of our child being in danger..." Archie: "Have either of you spoken with David and Snow about this? They know better than anyone what it's like to have their child... oh." (Archie stops talking as he realises what he was about to say.) Regina: "It's okay, Archie. You’re right, Snow and David do know what it's like to have their child be in danger, because of both me and Zelena. (Looks to Emma:) Maybe this is my past finally catching up with me?" Emma: "No, don't think like that. This is not some karmic justice we're talking about here. Morgana is just some crazed lunatic intent on fulfilling her so-called destiny and thinks our daughter might be the key to that." Archie: "Actually, from the little I know about Morgana, it sounds as though her childhood, while far from uncomfortable, was spent seeking acceptance from those around her. Particularly her father, Uther." Regina: "So, what are you saying?" Archie: "This is merely a theory of course but, maybe Morgana doesn't wish to harm Maria but rather raise her as her own?" Emma: "Kinda like the Black Fairy did with Gideon?" Regina: "That sounds like a bit of a stretch to me. Even if that were true, that's far from reassuring. (Stands and begins pacing the room:) All we know for sure is that Morgana vanished without a trace over ten years ago. If her plan is to take Maria and disappear, we may never see her again." Emma: "But, like you said, we don't know that's what she wants." Archie: "Well, I'm sorry I can't be of more help to you both." Emma: (Nods:) "We're just looking for as many different opinions as we can get." Regina: "I guess we're not used to feeling so vulnerable." Archie: "That's completely understandable. A child changes everything." Regina: (Gives a small smile:) "Yes, they do." Emma: "And, er... I also wanted to thank you for looking out for Regina while I was away. She told me you two talked and I appreciate it." Regina: "Me too." Archie: (Smiles:) "That's what I'm here for." Fortress of Ismere. (Mordred and Morgana share a meal before they depart.) Mordred: "And you're sure the one who sent you the message can be trusted?" Morgana: "What does it matter? Whether Lancelot and his soldiers are coming or not, our time here must come to an end." Mordred: "It matters because at least here we are safe. It is a fortress after all." Morgana: "I've made my decision." Mordred: "I can see that." Morgana: (Suddenly cold:) "And what is that supposed to mean?" Mordred: "Only that when there are two clear choices in front of us, you sometimes choose the wrong path." Morgana: "I see. So this is about the child again?" Mordred: "That child is the key to unlocking untold power-" Morgana: (Yelling:) “I am a High Priestess!” Mordred: (Rolls his eyes:) “Morgana.” Morgana: “I have the power of the heavens in my hand and yet Merlin continues to defy me! He is the one we should be focusing our combined efforts towards, not some innocent child.” Mordred: “Calm yourself.” Morgana: “I want his annihilation, Mordred. I want to put his head on a spike and watch as the crows feast on his eyes.” Mordred: “And I believe if we had the child we could accomplish that and much, much more. If we took her to the place Morgause brought you all those years ago, maybe-” Morgana: “Maybe what?” Mordred: “Well, there are rumours that Morgause had a hand in turning you against your former friends and allies in Camelot. Be it through torture or-” Morgana: “My sister cared more for me during my years in exile than almost anyone else in my life ever has.” Mordred: “And yet it was not she who taught you that ‘the love that binds us is more important than the power we wield’, was it? (Smirks:) You forget, Morgana, I know your secrets.” Mordred: “Hm. And here I thought you were the one who had forgotten. Forgotten that I am the one who saved your life all those years ago. Whatever you may think you know about me, Mordred, don’t make the mistake of believing you hold power over me.” Mordred: “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Morgana: (Glares at him and then slowly, a smile crosses her lips, a plan forming in her mind:) “Oh, my dear Mordred, I believe you’ve just given me a wonderful idea.”

King Richard's Former Kingdom. (In an attempt to demonstrate his credentials for Mayor of Storybrooke, King Richard accompanies David and Snow White while they visit the kingdom he used to rule before Valencia.) King Richard: "Finally, I return home to my old kingdom. Now I realise they’ve long moved on, but I still hold some star power around here and I can't wait to just let my people adore me. (Letting him walk on ahead, Snow and David exchange wearisome looks:) Ah, here we are.” Snow White: “What are we looking at?” King Richard: “This... (Turns in a slow circle in what is now merely an open field:) Is where my castle used to be. (David and Snow follow as Richard marches across the field, pointing in all directions:) This was a hallway! Hallway, hallway, hallway, my room, fireplace! This is where I kept my formal crowns, my casual crowns, my ‘just for fun’ crowns.” David: “Okay, are we done? Because we really do need to get back and start interviewing other candidates.” King Richard: “Oh, relax, Chiseled Chin. We haven’t even met the villagers yet.” Village. (Richard and the Charmings enter the village looking for people to talk with.) King Richard: “You know, it’s the strangest thing... This place always seems oddly familiar to me.” David: (Mutters to Snow:) “That’ll be because they built the village from sections of the castle.” King Richard: (Calling out to a passerby:) “I say, peasant, we have a few questions, and please don't get all star-struck because I'm speaking to you directly.” Peasant John: “No way! It's you!” King Richard: “I know. You're flustered.” Peasant John: “Guys, look, it's Snow White and Prince Charming!” (A small crowd gathers.) Snow White: (Smiles and waves:) “Hello.” David: (Awkwardly:) “Hi.” Peasant John: “What a thrill!” King Richard: “Is there perhaps someone else here you recognize? Maybe... Your former king?” Peasant John: “Oh, yeah. (Nonplussed:) Hiya.” King Richard: (Undeterred, addresses the crowd:) “Greetings, lowly ones! It is I, King Richard! I have returned! Good to see you again.” A Short Time Later. (Snow and David are now speaking with Peasant John.) Snow White: “So, perhaps you could tell us what lead to your decision to-” Peasant John: “Tear down the castle to make homes and shops for everybody? (Snow and David nod as Richard rejoins them:) Oh, well, here's the thing. (Leaning casually on Richard:) When you left us to go in search of the Jewel of Valencia, we didn't hear anything for a really long time.” King Richard: “All right, as I’ve said before, that was on me. (Lifts John’s arm gently off his shoulder:) I should've sent word.” Peasant John: “Yeah, but while you were away, we realized that a king is only a king if the people say he is.” (Richard turns to Snow and David and chuckles.) Peasant John: (Continues:) “And if they don't, well, he's just a man with a metal hat who's only in charge because his father wore a metal hat before him, which is pretty crazy if you think about it.” (The crowd laugh.) David: (Considers this:) “You know, he's... He's got a point. It is pretty crazy.” Snow White: “So are you calling my father crazy? Hmm?” David: “Er... please continue with your story, John.” Peasant John: “So, then we came together and asked ourselves ‘what if there was a different way of doing things? A better way? A fairer way?’” King Richard: “Oh, no. I know what's coming.” Peasant John: ♪ We've been trying something new in the dominion ♪ ♪ Since you went away ♪ ♪ With no king upon the throne ♪ ♪ We've all been left alone ♪ ♪ To build a new tomorrow here today ♪ King Richard: (Sighs:) “Right.” Peasant John: ♪ What if every single soul with an opinion ♪ ♪ Got to have their say? ♪ ♪ If on every point of note, we simply took a vote ♪ ♪ We'd build a new tomorrow here today ♪ David: “So, the butcher gets a vote?” Peasant John: “Yep!” Snow White: “The baker gets a vote?” Peasant John: “Yep!” ♪ And everyone who couldn't vote before ♪ Butcher: ♪ Except, of course, the women ♪ Baker: ♪ And we won't let him or him in ♪ (Points to two men behind him:) Peasant John: ♪ We mean everybody else ♪ Merchant: ♪ Except the poor ♪ Peasant John: ♪ Then we vote on every pressing public question ♪ ♪ Either ♪ Crowd: “Yay!” Peasant John: ♪ Or ♪ Crowd: “Nay!” David: “Nice.” Peasant John: ♪ Everybody gets to choose ♪ ♪ Except the you-know-whos ♪ ♪ As we build a new tomorrow here today ♪ Crowd: ♪ Every person counts the same ♪ ♪ Except, of course, the lame ♪ ♪ And the lepers ♪ ♪ And the gingers ♪ ♪ And the witches ♪ ♪ And the Heathens ♪ ♪ And the bastards ♪ ♪ And the Gypsies ♪ ♪ And the commies ♪ ♪ And the hippies ♪ ♪ As we build a new tomorrow ♪ Peasant John: ♪ A fair and square tomorrow ♪ Crowd: ♪ A more aware tomorrow here today ♪ ♪ So, we all will march together towards the future ♪ Peasant John: ♪ Well, not all per se ♪ ♪ Just the ones who look like me ♪ Crowd: ♪ It's called democracy-y-y-y-y ♪ ♪ The landed ♪ ♪ And the wealthy ♪ ♪ And the pious ♪ ♪ And the healthy ♪ ♪ And the straight ones ♪ ♪ and the pale ones ♪ ♪ And we only mean the male ones ♪ Peasant John: ♪ If you're all of the above, then you're ok-a-a-a-ay ♪ Crowd: ♪ As we build a new tomorrow ♪ ♪ Here tod-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ay ♪ David: “Well, that is intriguing... you know if the curse hadn’t happened and Regina didn’t destroy our castle, do you think what happened to Richard would’ve happened with us?” Snow White: (Not wishing to think about it:) “Oh be quiet, David!” David: (Watching her walk away:) “Touchy.”

Storybrooke. Granny's Diner. (Stopping by the diner for some takeout, Regina goes to place their order of two grilled cheese sandwiches while Emma spots Rumplestiltskin sitting alone in a booth.) Emma: "How many times have you glued that thing together over the years?" Rumplestiltskin: "More than I can remember. Certainly much more often now that Gideon's discovered his new favourite game of throwing his dinner across the room." Emma: "Hm. I shouldn't worry, he'll probably grow out of it in say ten or twelve years." Rumplestiltskin: (Chuckles, holding up the cup:) "I'll take this over raising a child with magical powers any day." Emma: "So you've heard." Rumplestiltskin: "It's a small town, Emma, and I make it my business to know what's going on with my granddaughter." Emma: (Sliding into the booth across from him:) "All right, Grandpa, what would you do about it?" Rumplestiltskin: "I'm not sure someone who spent centuries in pursuit of power would be your best choice for advice." Emma: "Oh I don't know. Despite what you claim, when you orchestrated the curse, you made me the Savior. Both Regina and I have our magic because of you." Rumplestiltskin: "That magic was inside each of you all along, I merely stoked the embers and fanned the flames." Emma: "Whatever. My point is you know how it feels to have your magic taken from you. Both as a child and an adult." Rumplestiltskin: (Nods:) "When my Savior powers were taken from me it lead me to the Darkness." Emma: "So, if it were Gideon, what would you do?" Rumplestiltskin: "Ah, well fortunately as you know, Belle and I have firsthand experience dealing with Gideon's magic. If you're looking for my honest opinion..." Emma: (Scoffs:) "No, lie to me." Rumplestiltskin: "Raise the child, not the problem. Even if you were foolish enough to strip Maria of her powers now, that doesn't mean she can't become an all powerful sorceress later. Just ask Morgana." Emma: "Yeah, I'll get right on that. Just as soon as she stops trying to kidnap my daughter." Rumplestiltskin: "All right, bad example, but you do have someone else in this ever-expanding family of ours who knows exactly what it's like to have their magic stamped out of them." (While waiting for Emma with their takeout order, Regina stands by another booth, this one occupied by the Blue Fairy.) Blue Fairy: "You know I couldn't help but overhear." Regina: "I'm sure you could if you tried." Blue Fairy: (Continues regardless:) "If you're worried about Maria's magical powers, you could always consider the convent? My sisters and I are-" Regina: "You seriously expect me to entrust the safety of my daughter to you? Disregarding the fact that you have never once helped or acknowledged my journey back from evil, I dread to think what you would do if Maria's magic turned out to be dark." Emma: (Taking Regina by the arm and guiding her from the diner:) "All right, time for us to go." Regina: (Over her shoulder to Blue:) "You'd no doubt send her to another realm like you did to the Black Fairy!" (They leave. Rumplestiltskin allows himself a chuckle while the Blue Fairy attempts to appear unaffected by Regina's words.)

Forest. (Morgana walks along a path towards a hut that is situated the middle of some trees. Inside, there is a man sitting at a desk. Morgana opens the door and enters. The man looks up to see who it is.) Sindri: “Who are you?” Morgana: “It matters not who I am, but what I want and whether you can give it to me.” Sindri: “And what is it that you want? (Morgana walks over and places a scrap of paper on the desk in front of him. Reading it:) Very particular, what you seek.” Morgana: “It has a very particular purpose. (Sindri looks up at her from a paper that he’s been looking over:) Well? Do you possess such a thing?” Sindri: “I do. (He stands up and walks over to a shelf that is next to Morgana. He pulls two vials off the shelf:) Here.” Morgana: “What are they?” Sindri: “Valerian and Henbane. (Morgana goes to reach for them:) Ah, these are…uncommon things. Hard to come by, hard to prepare… (Morgana hands him some gold and takes the vials. He counts the gold as she walks away:) Very generous, my lady, more than enough to buy my wares. But not my silence... Morgana.” (Morgana turns and tosses more coins on the floor. Sindri bends down and picks up the coins as Morgana exits.) Storybrooke. Main Street. (Walking back from the marina where they ate their lunch, Emma and Regina pass by Mr. Gold's Pawnbrokers. Peering through the window, Regina notes that the shop is almost empty.) Regina: "It looks abandoned in there. Belle and Rumplestiltskin must have done a good job returning items to their original owners." Emma: "I realise she's shady as hell, but Blue doesn't really deserve the blame for what happened in the past.” Regina: (Smiles, turns to her:) "I know. I'm pretty sure both Snow and Rumplestiltskin were factors in Blue's decisions back then. To be honest I'm more annoyed by Rumple still thinking he can manipulate me into doing his bidding." Emma: "Well he did, right? I mean, we ended up releasing Merlin partly because of him." Regina: "Yeah, and it pisses me off. (With a naughty glint in her eye:) So I say it's high time we got back at him." (Regina waves her hand over the handle and magically unlocks the door.) Emma: (When Regina gives her a knowing look:) "Oh no... you wanna fool around in the pawnshop?" Regina: (Smiles:) "It's not like anyone's gonna drop by anytime soon." Emma: "Yeah but still. Don't you think this is a bit of a stretch, even for us?" Regina: (Considers:) "Hm. I'll tell you what. You can either come inside here with me and we'll have some fun, or..." Emma: "Or?" Regina: "We can go cause a scandal at the convent. Your choice." Emma: (Looks at her then opens the door to the shop:) "After you, milady." Regina: (Smirks:) "Why thank you." (Looking around to make sure no one is around, Emma shakes her head before following Regina inside.)

Elsewhere In Storybrooke. (Marco sits down to talk with the Reporter.) Reporter: "So, Marco, as the town's handyman, you must have some stories to tell?" Marco: (Chuckles:) "You can say that again. Although, when I first arrived here during the curse, my days were very much the same. Filled with tasks that really anybody with a screwdriver could perform, from tightening hinges inside a cabinet to re-affixing letters to shop front displays." Reporter: "That sounds like it wasn't exactly taxing for a man of your abilities." Marco: "Oh, I was always happy to do it of course, but I craved something more." Reporter: "You were cursed to be miserable after all." Marco: "This is true. Then, after the curse was broken, there would be plenty more interesting repair work for me to sink my teeth into. Replacing smashed park benches from various car chases, rehanging street signs and of course, my most frequent job seems to be maintaining the clock tower, particularly the intricate glass work." Reporter: "Sounds like that kept you busy." Marco: "It was certainly a time consuming job. (Chuckles:) Pun intended. Ever since the realms were united, I've been busier than ever, travelling with my son August to places that need the services of a good carpenter." Reporter: "Would you say most of your business comes from other realms lately?" Marco: (Nods:) "That's fair to say, yes. Thankfully, most of the time I can return home to Storybrooke and enjoy my days when I'm not working. It seems the sort of property damage that used to happen isn't commonplace anymore."   Storybrooke. Mr. Gold's Pawnshop. Night. (Carrying a flashlight, Rumplestiltskin steps cautiously through the remains of his shop. Pointing the light in various directions, Rumple turns around quickly at the sound of footsteps.)

Regina: "Rumple, what the hell happened here?" Rumplestiltskin: "Precisely what I'd like to know." (He turns back around and continues searching the shop while Emma leans over to speak with Regina.) Emma: (Whispered:) "Did we do this?" Regina: "No, of course not." Rumplestiltskin: "What are you two whispering about?" Regina & Emma: (Innocently:) "Nothing!" Rumplestiltskin: (Giving them a curious look:) "Yeah well whoever did this wasn't playing around. They were definitely after something." Regina: (While Rumple ducks behind the shattered counter:) "But what? There was hardly anything in here left to take." Emma: "Least of all a comfortable mattress." Regina: "Shh!" Rumplestiltskin: "Damnit!" Regina: "Rumple? (Emma and Regina walk closer to him:) What is it?" Rumplestiltskin: (Groans and gets to his feet:) "It’s gone. (Slams his fist on the counter:) You see this is why I wanted you both to deal with Morgana when I asked you to. Now this has happened and we're screwed." Emma: "All right, enough with the blame game. Clearly you still had something gnarly here in your shop that you shouldn't have and someone's stolen it. So why don't you use your words and tell us what's missing?" Rumplestiltskin: "Something the likes of which is the precise reason I stayed out of Camelot all those years. Something that will shift the tide in Morgana's favour and put us all in danger."