The Sword Of Excalibur [MxM] ⚣
wambuimuiruriii · 31 chapters · 96,697 words
[Dramatis Personae]
•• Characters List ••
• Emrys {Merlin} •
• Arthur Pendragon •
• Morgana Pendragon •
• Guinevere Findabair •
• Uther Pendragon •
••
••
Dropping February 14th on Substack (link in my bio),
February 17th on Wattpad
••
The Playlist:
Miracle of Sound - Wake the White Wolf
mehro - who are you
The Amazing Devil - That Unwanted Animal
•• I usually don’t do a whole chapter for characters but this one’s gunna be needing it lol (it also took me forever to make my mind up on the choices so I hope y’all like em!)
Prologue: Wager A Deal With The Serpent King
Hi lovelies! Let me know your thoughts on this one, and I’ll be returning to writing in February after my little break
But for now…
Enjoy!
xoxo
The Sword Of Excalibur
It was the sounds of those piercing cries– of the innocent who were to be hanged come nightfall that King Uther Pendragon of Britain had ordered his soldiers to chain to the tall, thick, and sturdy wooden poles embedded into the rich dirt right outside of the palace walls. Outside of Camelot, the home of the Pendragons.
Cries that only further solidified the choices his own son would soon make before nightfall fully encompassed this realm.
“Step away from the window, Arthur. You need not listen,” his lovely Guinevere insisted, her hands balled into tight fists now placed at her side. The only representation of the anger she could show openly, and in the safety of only Arthur’s company. She had shared the same contempt for Uther that Arthur now did, however he knew this woman would never act on such fortified thoughts.
She shared the same hatred for Uther that his own son had…
And yet she didn’t support the journey set forth by the man on this very night. A journey that could be the young prince’s very last.
She didn’t support the man Arthur would need to seek out to ensure the timely death of his father without raising any suspicion of his council. The only way Arthur saw this transition of power going peacefully for what was left of the Pendragons.
“I’ll return in three days time granted this approach goeth well-”
“He’ll kill you, Arthur.” The beautiful Guinevere insisted, her hands now straightening themselves out from those balled fists of anger before starting to tug at a loose strand on the woman’s elegant, deeply rich, purple dress. A dress that looked beautiful on Arthur’s soon to be wife. A dress selected by his father, a proposal gift for Arthur having finally asked the woman that had remained at his side all these years, for her hand in marriage. A woman that was first a childhood friend, and the most loyal to him. Even if she did question this more rash decision now.
Uther had blessed this union, yet Arthur knew his father had only blessed it because Arthur refused to look at any other woman in that way. Uther was petrified that he would soon meet his end before he bore witness to a grandchild. A grandson, if his wishful thinking had been fully met by the gods.
What Uther of course didn’t know of was the plan his son would soon carry out, solidifying his chances of never seeing an offspring. Yet it was a plan that put Arthur’s soon to be into a clear state of utter panic and perturbation.
“Perhaps,” Arthur agreed, nodding to his betrothed Guinevere, “and he would have every right to, knowing what I know now of my father. Of the horrors he inflicted–”
“Don’t speak of that, Arthur.” She insisted quietly. “You are not your father.” Guinevere whispered these words more carefully, as if the palace walls themselves could hear the stirring in this study.
“And if I am to continue to exist in this world, my love… he cannot. I refuse to hear the cries of more innocent. I refuse to have our people fear him. To fear even the slight mention of magick in this realm. I will not have them live in such fear, them turning on their own neighbors to avoid persecution. If I am to rule someday, I’d very much like to rule a kingdom that respects their King. Not fears him.”
“A noble thing, my love. The reason I have stayed at your side all this time… but this sorcerer. This druid… what is to stop him from enacting revenge on you in the absence of your father? Avenging those of his that were slaughtered. Massacred? “
Arthur looked to his lover with very little hope set in his eyes. “I pray his hatred for my father can be used to help me. I pray that this act is a noble enough decision to sway his hatred of the blood that runs through me too. The blood that spills from me. And the blood that he may very well want to drench this land with for what the Pendragons have done all these years and those years ago.”
“He has built one treacherous reputation, Arthur. He is the one man feared by all realms. That amount of power is–”
“—It is what we need right now, Guin. And though you may not like it… if anyone is to request his help, it should be the son of the man he wants most dead.”
And those were the very words Arthur told himself as he prepared to leave for this journey. Words that seldom brought him comfort, and yet he prayed it comforted his Guinevere. His only love.
The very words that carried the young man on horseback as he rode through the thick forested plains, his heavy black cloak pulled forward to conceal his distinct features and thus his identity, though tonight was the only night he could make such a journey. All were gathered around the castle– Camelot, awaiting the torture of those men and women that may have, or may have not practiced witchcraft. Imbedded themselves in magick.
Arthur’s father demanded an audience for his hatred each night he claimed lives, and he hadn’t cared much to be as thorough with his investigation of such exiled acts as the years progressed. The man had simply become bloodthirsty. He loved the fear the citizens of Britain had for him. Fear that Arthur himself found utterly grotesque.
The young man had met with an oracle few nights before this one. A trusted older woman who Arthur had protected from his father right within those castle walls, making the woman a servant for Guin as the best form of protection he could muster. She had managed to conceal her gift as Arthur’s father carried out more brutality upon the land.
She had spoken of one druid. Of one man who possessed magick like none other. Who could make Uther’s death seem as if it were a mere tragic accident. She spoke of where Arthur could find him… at the very border between their realm and the next.
Arthur had assumed his father kept every part of the border heavily patrolled, however this oracle had assured Arthur there was a part that the druid himself was masking. A patch between realms that he had somehow kept hidden to allow his travel between the realms go uninterrupted. Between worlds much different from Britain, as the stories had told.
It was difficult to find unless one knew where to look for it deep within this forest. A journey that took almost all night to reach, and one with paths so overgrown, Arthur had to pay special care as to where he led his horse.
This place was filled with snakes, and as the man continued riding, approaching that edge the oracle had spoken of, he noticed that there were more black slithering creatures gathering around this particular area in the dense forest, only visible by the burning torch he held tightly in his hand.
That was what the young man had been instructed to find by the older woman. “Where snakes congregate in the mass,” she had told him, “there you will find the Great Serpent King. The one who controls them. The man who attracts them with his mere powerful blood alone. There you will find Emrys.”
And though Arthur didn’t scare easily… it was difficult to admit that this amount of snakes, their black bodies slithering over each other, one over the other as they moved quickly across the forest floor… it terrified him for what was to come next. He removed himself from his horse and took those next hesitant steps forward, watching carefully where he found his footing.
“ Well thisss is interesssting .“ A quiet, shivering voice spoke suddenly, its words mirroring that of a hissing snake itself, and forcing the hairs on Arthurs skin to stand from its chilling qualities. Its dry, unwelcoming tone. Arthur didn’t see anyone through the darkness as he held his torch towards the moving figures on the floor, but he could feel that something was just out of sight, waiting. “ A visssitor… I do not get many .“
Before Arthur could get a single word out to declare his intentions for this visit, he heard rustling from up above, a sound that didn’t sound right. Didn’t sound natural with the slight breeze flowing through the dense treetops, slightly rustling the dry leaves. He then felt something drop from the branches looming over his head. And when he the weight of a slimy creature on his neck before sharp fangs bit into him, he wasn’t quick enough to fling the snake off him before those teeth sunk in, piercing his skin and drawing from it his blood.
“ Fuck! “ the man yelled, flinging the thing off of him and watching as the snake that had bitten him, slithered away, disappearing into that darkness that lay ahead. The darkness from which this voice had come from.
“ What bringsss you to my home? I’m surprised you found it with such ease. “ The voice asked as Arthur brought his hand to his wound, feeling his blood start to drip onto his large, calloused fingers. Whatever that thing had done to him, it was intentional. “A nd ssspeak quickly… you don’t have much time before that poisonousss bite reaches your heart, sire, and turns your blood black. The blood of a Pendragon that deserves to be stained .”
Shit , Arthur thought to himself as he tried to apply more pressure on the wound. It was intentional, this attack.
“I’ve come to seek you out.” The prince attempted to get out to this sorcerer.
“ Yesss… I can sssee that. I’m asking myssself what the son of Uther Pendragon is doing here. You mussst have known this would be your final resting place .“
Arthur had known that… he just believed he might have had a bit more time before Emrys did try to kill him. This druid hadn’t spared a single moment in choosing to poison him.
“I have come to seek your help.” Arthur told the sorcerer, still unable to see him, even with the slight moonlight spilling through the thick trees. And he listened to this sorcerer’s voice, how it mirrored the countless creatures on the ground, he wasn’t so sure he was still speaking to a man at all.
“ Many have come before you, Arthur Pendragon. “ The voice replied. “ None have left this place… Or perhapsss they did… in pieces anyway, and through the bellies of my little slithering companions. They take their time with their mealsss, you should know. You’ll pray for their venom to work fassster in a moment. “
That sent deep shivers down Arthur’s well covered back. Knowing now what fed these creatures, it only made his plan to seek this… this creature out, seem all the more foolish.
“I believe this particular request will interest you,” Arthur attempted a more confident reply, though he could start to feel his body running warmer, heat spreading quickly through him underneath his thick skin. He felt beads of sweat quickly appear on the base of his forehead, sending deep chills through the young man. This venom was already acting fast, his heartbeat louder against his now pounding ears. The snake had gone for the large vein that ran down the side of Arthur’s neck near his jugular, successfully piercing into the thing streaming thickly of his blood.
“ I haven’t had something interest me for many many yearsss. What makes you think your request is any different? “
Arthur had to blink a few times to refocus his vision. his hands were getting sweatier with each passing moment, but he forced himself to focus. To hold onto this torch for his life depended on what sight he still had. To not lose consciousness to this poison that was quickly taking over this vessel of his.
“I need your assistance with killing a man,” Arthur spoke into that darkness. “A man you would want dead right alongside me. The man who massacred your family.”
And the sudden silence that fell after those words, were indeed felt by the now dying young man. He could hear some rustling, some movement in the darkness a few feet away that made the snakes all around Arthur and whatever approached, scatter quickly.
And when he finally got a glimpse of what it was that was approaching… of the massive snake at least the length of three snakes, and the width of five or so, Arthur stumbled back slightly, yet he forced his body to keep hold of this torch. It was the only thing that could keep him safe against the whereabouts of this creature that took to darkness as if he possessed it. Like it did his bidding.
The creature slowly raised itself, however this was no ordinary snake. And when Arthur witnessed the beady, glowing, ashen eyes of this reptile morph into that of a person, its scaly body shedding its skin to reveal a man… A young man at that, and one with fiery red, flowing hair… Arthur audibly gasped, almost letting go of that torch again.
This wasn’t what he was expecting. This wasn’t the old druid he assumed he’d be meeting deep within this forest.
This man was much younger, those eyes of his forcing all this prince’s attention on him as he ran his hands through those long, fiery, flowing locks. A color of red that Arthur had never seen on any man or woman before. The man now wore a flowing white shirt, accompanied by black trousers that practically blended in with the darkness itself. There were gold necklaces around his neck and rings on the man’s long, slender fingers. An appearance of a King.
Arthur thought that perhaps this poison brought about hallucinations, that perhaps this was all a figment of his imagination due to the venom in his bloodstream that was still coursing quickly, however when this man opened his mouth, it was the same voice that had spoken to Arthur from the darkness. There just wasn’t the hissing of the creature that drew his words out, further terrifying the prince.
“You have… successfully won an audience, Arthur Pendragon, no small feat might I add. Now drink,” Emrys brought the wrist of his left hand to his lips before two fangs much like a snake swiftly appeared in that mouth of his, lengthening his teeth as he bit down on his wrist and successfully broke his skin. Then he took a few more steps towards Arthur, causing Arthur to back away from the bloody hand Emrys was extending immediately. “Drink or you’ll die.” The sorcerer insisted, not giving Arthur much of a choice but to slowly accept his bloody hand.
And so he did. He reached out very hesitantly to Emrys, wondering if this sorcerer had other motives… but the creature of a man remained still for Arthur to drink from. With his hand stretched forward forward, the prince could already see the darkening of his veins. How they had started to run black with that poison. And as soon as the prince’s lips connected with Emrys, his hand feeling the cooled softness of the sorcerer’s skin as it held his hand to keep him steady, Emrys let out the softest, faintest of moans. One so faint it was barely uttered. And one the man quickly cleared his throat to mask… but Arthur had caught it.
Did this… did whatever he was doing affect this sorcerer? He wondered to himself. His gaze remained on the druid as he drank from his hand, the man’s blood tasting of something that was sweet. Nothing like the salty, iron taste that flowed through that of a man. Arthur found himself enjoying it slightly, much like he assumed this man perhaps might be.
The tall prince kept his gaze on Emrys as he drank, refusing to look away while Emrys’s cheeks turned a shade that somewhat slightly resembled the color of his hair, drawing more of Arthur’s attention to his chiseled, tense features.
It was… unexpected , Arthur confirmed to himself, but he also knew he didn’t have many options. He could somehow feel his body decaying right from within, the venom strong enough to work quickly even for a man of his large stature and broad build. The sorcerer had told no lie. He was surely going to die had he waited any longer with a venom Arthur had never heard of before, and from a snake he had never seen before no less.
“ Enough ,“ Emrys spoke harshly, yanking his bloody hand back away from the prince and to his side. “Now it is time for you to really explain yourself. I have not been interested in something for many many years… however something tells me you may be the reason that all changes. So speak, your highness . I’m listening .”
And Arthur was pleasantly surprised by that.
He was even more surprised by how good the man’s blood was quickly making him feel, it acting as a working elixir, one that combated the poison once coursing through and tainting the blood in his veins. Something that was once forcing his heart to beat all the quicker.
And so, Arthur spoke to this handsome man, a level of handsomeness the man could’ve never expected, as was the form this druid merged into from, the large serpent.
Everything about this encounter was absolutely startling, right down to the blood he had drank from the druid to heal himself. The man realized quite suddenly that he didn’t know the first thing about this druid. He knew the young man had a reputation, however nothing spoke of him being able to take the form of a serpent. Nothing spoke of his blood, and what it could do…
And surely nothing had mentioned a damned thing about this man’s eerily charming looks. The prince had expected someone older… not… not this.
As Arthur explained to him the reasoning for making the decision he was to make, Emrys looked slightly taken aback. The young sorcerer was surprised to hear that Uther’s own son was willing to make such a decision such as this. He was even more surprised to see that this boy had grown up. He didn’t take after his father much, which the young sorcerer appreciated. He didn’t have that monster’s eyes.
Or… well, or his more hideous features…
Emrys had to make a last minute decision to save the son of a man who mercilessly slaughtered his entire family. This decision was one that would change things in this realm if he were to succeed with the help of Arthur. And while Emrys felt no pain when his own fangs sunk into his skin… he… he hadn’t meant to give Arthur so much of his blood.
His blood was precious, with healing capabilities no man had known to be before him. Yet the unexpected feeling Arthur elicited was just that. Unexpected. As was the way Emrys’s body reacted to it. To him.
“Are you to help then?” Arthur asked this young druid now.
“Yes,” Emrys replied, “I’ll help with killing your father… however, once you take the throne in his place as the rightful heir, I demand a place alongside you. In the shadows. I want control with what is to come of my people- at least those still alive.”
Arthur slowly nodded at Emrys’s request, taking a moment to ponder what that could entail… however after what his father had done, the young sorcerer had the right to ask this of the young prince. The man that was soon to be King thanks to the druid with powers needed that only he possessed for such a task. “I can grant that,” Arthur further confirmed with words.
“Good,” Emrys nodded, “then let’s go poison that monster you call father.”
Arthur’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “N-Now? As in right now?” he asked Emrys.
“Yes, now .” Emrys nodded in return. “We’ve got a throne to take and I don’t like to leave my deadly companions here unattended for long. They do tend to wander.”
“O-Oh,” Arthur returned with a bit more confusion. “I had-… I had just assumed that you would want time to… to prepare, perhaps.”
That made the young man return his puzzled look with one of his own. “Prepare what?”
“I… I don’t know. Don’t you have… things? Tools you need to uncover. Poison to acquire?”
The young sorcerer extended his hand out, waving his right hand over the wound on his left before it magically vanished right before Arthur’s very eyes, the deep pierces from his fangs suddenly disappearing. “I have magick, sire… I am magick. And your father is an idiot, so this shouldn’t take long. I just need entry into the castle past the enforcements he uses to protect himself, something you can grant me.”
Arthur gave this man a slow nod, before taking a few steps back towards his horse. “Okay then, let’s… take our leave from this despicable place.”
“I recommend you to bite your tongue when you speak of this forest in such a way. This despicable place is my home,” Emrys reminded the prince, watching as the strong man hoisted himself up over his horse with ease, before bending down to extend a hand to Emrys.
The druid accepted, allowing Arthur to pull him up onto his horse behind the prince. This then required Emrys to wrap his arms around the large man’s torso, leaning forward slightly when Arthur started to direct his horse back the same way he came. The scent of this man is different, the Druid thought to himself. “And it will remain my home as long as your father still breathes. Something I will work quickly to change.”
“M-My apologies,” Arthur muttered. The young man still had much to learn about his fathers brutality. Of how the world looked before his dictating ruling.
How much magick was once in this realm… and how it still flourished in the others. In the realms this prince hadn’t yet crossed into.
Killing his father would be rather simple once Emrys made it past those protected castle doors.
The real feat ahead of both men was to then keep and maintain the throne once they finally laid claim to it. Something that would soon prove to be far more challenging as those conspiring against the Pendragons were already hard at work, plotting away at both Uther’s and Arthur’s demise for their own gain.
It was something Arthur did not know of… but Emrys surely did. For it had influenced the young sorcerer’s decision far more than this aged prince’s words ever could.
••
Chapter One: Returning To Camelot
I’m backkkkkk :) my person life has gotten pretty hectic so that’s the reason everything has been pushed forward with uploads. Please enjoy the first chapter on here and Substack as well as the first song from the playlist (on Spotify as The Sword Of Excalibur), keeping in mind my upload schedule will be on Substack earlier than Wattpad
My other short stories should be updated by tomorrow on Substack too!
For now… enjoy lovelies
xoxo
Kichene - Kitchen
Arthur
“You’ve returned!” I heard a voice call out from the old wooden door carved into and nestled in a frame at the rear wall of the castle. That excited voice carried itself much like the young woman’s smaller feet suddenly carried her now as she broke away from the door’s frame and sprinted through the short, vibrant hues of green entirely barefoot to run to me.
I barely managed getting my horse’s reins tied to the post near the stables before I was rushed by strength no woman should ever possibly harbor.
“Morgana!” I tried to scold her, yet it held little weight when meddled in with the laughter I had also broken into as my arms quickly wrapped around the midsection of the smaller woman. “ Please ,“ I soon begged, picking her up and spinning her through the air once… then twice… then thrice, feeling the bottom of her dress fluttering against the thick fabric of my dirtied trousers before I set her back down onto the leveled ground. “ Please be mindful of your strength. My body wore itself thin from my journey,“ I explained to her… but my eyes quickly cast down to her barren feet. “And what did you and I discuss before I took my leave? Where the bloody hell have your shoes gone off to?”
“I heard your horse riding past the castle doors! There was no time to be wasted on shoes ,” she insisted, giggling lightly as she tucked some of her long, charcoal-colored, and tightly curled hair back behind her rather pointed ears. She then wiggled her toes deep into the fresh grass, allowing blades of vivid green to pass through the small spaces between them.
“Is that so?” I asked, unable to straighten this smile out to match my scolding tone. Morgana was only a few years younger than I, yet she maintained her spirited charm with me—that of a blissfully filled child.
And though I found it amusing, her charm always capable of lifting spirits that once seemed all too lost to my responsibilities… our father, in fact, did not.
Her firm nod, accompanied by her own grin, had me reaching for her hand that had since fallen to her side quickly. “Come,” I insisted, “let’s get you back inside before father notices. You must know how little he likes to repeat himself.” How seldom he did , I swiftly reminded myself. He only ever granted one warning to Morgana and I before discipline was enacted. And as I dwelled on that thought for a moment, I quickly realized that this was how he was with his citizens, too. The people of Britain.
Morgana allowed my warm hand to slip into her cool one as I practically dragged this woman back towards those stone castle walls, heading towards the very door she had charged at me from. She kept her hand firmly in mine as we entered into our home, but she was quick to swiftly remove it once we were welcomed near that entrance by Guinevere. I watched as My Love’s deep umber colored eyes took the sight of me in, and those full lips of hers curled up into a small, comforting smile, yet I didn’t miss the pensive nature of those dark eyes.
She had questions for me, questions I would hopefully be able to answer once she and I were in the privacy of my chamber—a room that would soon become our chamber once this marriage was consummated.
And that was a thought I didn’t care to have right now, or really at all.
It would seem that those questions would go unanswered just a little longer, for we were in the kichene of the castle now, the very room this back door led directly to. And we were amongst both Morgana, and Gisela—Guinevere’s servant. She was the one who had led me to the man that my betrothed was so clearly eager to learn more of.
Guin had set down the cup she was holding onto the wooden table to her right before she rushed to me much like my sister had. My large arms opened themselves to wrap around her slender frame, feeling the fine material of her satin blue dress whilst holding her tighter to me once I felt how her body had started to shake slightly in my embrace. She had thought me to be dead. I was sure of it. Her mind always traveled to death whenever I was forced to leave the confinements of the castle, yet her worrisome nature may have been warranted this time around.
I had almost died.
But now… here, she couldn’t show her concern. Morgana only knew of my trip to be that of a hunting excursion, and I was far too good at hunting to merit any worry from my betrothed. “Silence those thoughts,” I whispered gently near her ear, making sure my words only reached her, and those arms that held me tightly in return finally released themselves. I would apologize more formally to this beautiful woman when granted privacy. For now, however, she needn’t draw attention to me. To us.
“How was the trip, Your Highness?” Gisela’s voice was heard behind Guin as the older lady took a few more steps forward to join us. In her hand was an already made cup of tea which I offered many thanks when handed to me. This old woman always seemed to know exactly what was needed to calm my dismantled joints and, more importantly, my unrested soul. “Did you catch anything?” She further asked as I brought the clay mug to my lips to taste the warm liquid. Just the scent of the lavender alone, as I breathed it in, was capable of calming my heart—something that had not known a still moment until the man who rode on horseback with me finally took his leave.
We had ridden for three full days without a single word uttered between us. And yet his mere presence made my heart keep a rhythm that no heart should keep if it is to claim its exceptional health.
“Yes,” I nodded to the older woman once the warm sip had traveled down my throat, soothing the raspiness of my voice before settling in my stomach and forcing that warmth to spread.
“Liar!” Morgana jutted out under her breath, causing me to turn to her immediately. “Your horse held no winnings when you rode in. It’s acceptable to admit it, Arthur; even the soon-to-be King has his shortcomings.”
That caused me to chuckle at my little sister, and whilst Gisela broke out into a slight grin herself, Guin didn’t look nearly as pleased.
“You returned with nothing?” My betrothed questioned.
I knew of her concerns, yet they couldn’t be made known to others here. Instead, I found myself answering, “I stopped by the village near the entrance to the forest to give out my earnings. I very much so yearned for sympathy from this one here,” I used my free hand, not holding the cup of tea, to snip at Morgana’s nose with my fingers, coercing a sweet laugh from her. “Does this mean you will help Gisela start on dinner?” I asked my little sister, and her eyelids lowered quickly with discernment. “If you help her with the rabbit stew,” I continued, “I will keep your barefoot rendezvous between you and I. Father need not know.”
Morgana’s dramatic inhale of breath made me chuckle. “You would use such a thing against me?” she wailed, falling against my much larger frame as she feigned dismay.
“You found far too much comfort in making light of my potential shortcomings with my hunt, so yes,” I confirmed, nodding my head. “Now go wash those feet of yours and get some shoes on before stepping foot in this kichene again. Guin will see me to my chamber before I meet with our father. If you don’t want him knowing about your disobedience, supper should be done early . Am I understood?”
Morgana was not all that thrilled about what I proposed, yet she still listened and acted according, pulling me in for one last tight embrace—one I made sure not to spill tea onto her with—before she took off and made her way out of the kichene presumably towards the bathhouse, with her curls tossing from side to side as she scurried off like a little mouse.
I reminded myself that she would need that hair cut soon, something I had been tasked with doing since we were both younger because of just how much she hated cutting her hair. I didn’t find that I took off too much, yet any amount cut was enough to bring real tears to her large eyes. And I didn’t like seeing my sister cry. Those tight curls of hers just became increasingly unmanageable the longer they grew, leaving the woman with a far less tamed appearance, and that was one of the many things that our father didn’t approve of. He wanted her to find a suitable partner soon for marriage.
“I shall speak with you in time, then,” Gisela spoke, to which I nodded, watching as the older woman took her leave. She returned to preparing the vegetables for supper while I followed this beautiful woman of mine out of the kichene and into the main corridors of the castle. We walked side by side, yet our voices remained quiet as we soon approached two servants walking in the opposite direction on our left.
“We rejoice in your return, Your Highness,” they spoke gently—Dorielle and Lucinda were the two young women’s names. They avoided my father much like most servants in this home did; however, they were always kind to Guin, Morgana, and myself. The woman could not have been older than Morgana, yet my father liked the younger, able-bodied servants. It truly disgusted me to think of why.
Gisela would have been removed from the castle had she not become Guin’s appointed servant by my hand. For now, I vowed to do whatever possible to ensure her both work and safety. She was a widow and bore no children, which meant that there were very few who could take care of her when those bones of hers soon fell victim to the years they had been forced to endure. And after the plans I had finally placed into service by the voyage I had just returned from, I was prepared to do what was needed to ensure death found her peacefully and without strife when it was finally her time.
I gave Dorielle and Lucinda each a firm nod, followed by a gentle smile in return. “Are you two to join Gisela in the kichene?” I asked both young women, and they both nodded one after the other. “I have since ordered Morgana to assist as punishment for that boisterous mouth of hers and even more unruly feet. See to it she actually joins, will you?”
“Yes, Your Highness,” Lucinda nodded quickly first, her honeysuckle eyes softening further at my request as she tucked some stray strands of her golden pin-straight hair behind her rounded ears. Dorielle followed suit, with her light green eyes offering some warmth of their own. Morgana liked these two, so I found it only fitting that they would be my eyes and ears for when I wasn’t near her to keep the young, free-spirited woman somewhat in line.
Guin and I had not officially wed, therefore the servants did not need to refer to her in such respectable regard, yet there was no single soul, man or woman, who did not fall victim to my betrothed’s charm—to the beauty that existed just past her richly tinted dark skin, nor those doe-like eyes that held such mystery. Not many knew that my hand was promised to a woman much like Morgana. Free-spirited. Not many besides my father, however, and this was why Morgana worked to keep her distance whenever Guin was in our presence. My father held fear in his heart that Morgana would coerce the wildness out of My Love—that Guin would revert to the girl she was before the woman she was forced to become to rule at my side in the coming future.
Little did my father know, the woman who used to outhunt me had never left; she was only brought forth in rooms where she knew she would be welcomed.
And my chamber was one of them.
“Where is he?” Guin asked as soon as we had safely made it within the confines of these four walls.
“I have placed him in an old, abandoned cottage, near the villages at the west entrance of the forest,” I explained myself quickly once worry started to settle in Guin’s soft features. Her reassured expression was what brought me absolute peace.
“I want to meet him,” she spoke boldly, but I quickly shook my head no in return.
“He has requested to be left for a fortnight, uninterrupted.”
“A fortnight?” she repeated. “Uninterrupted? We do not have—”
“I’m well aware, My Love,” I spoke gently now. While I knew it was my place to approach her, to embrace this woman once she took a seat on the edge of my bed, and comfort her troubled nature… I instead found myself moving closer to the framed wood of this room’s only window.
This chamber was on the third floor, overlooking the town that stretched right past the castle perimeter. It was my father’s old room before I came of age. He then had a different room built within these palace walls for him, whilst my duty was to inherit this one much like I would the throne.
Had I not known how horrendously paranoid my father was, I would’ve held some suspicion about him giving this room to me… but I assumed his decision to move was in part due to the attack that happened some years ago, where an archer had managed to fire an arrow through this bedroom window, almost striking my father. The incident was labeled as an accident considering the annual archery games were taking place near the front of our castle, yet the King saw it fit that the archer pay with his own life.
The real truth was that it was no accident, yet if the castle were to report an assassination attempt, my father was worried it would cast weakness on our sovereign. Instead, he much preferred to be labeled as a monster for killing an innocent man.
After that, my father decided that he would move to the rear end of the castle, which made it difficult to return from any journey without feeling his eyes set on me. Even now, I knew he had witnessed my return. Probably witnessed Morgana’s greeting, which meant my evening would be spent convincing him that her excitement was what had gotten the better of her. That she didn’t need punishment.
Only time would tell with my father.
“What could he possibly need a fortnight for?” Guin asked with clear irritation, and it made me wish I had an answer to give her.
Instead, I placed both hands onto the sill of my window, gazing out into the late afternoon of Britain. The village sounded all too quiet these last years, barely bursting with any life and a paled comparison to what things were like before. When I was younger. This town was a shell of what it was then, something lacking the vibrancy that came with the once-felt happiness of its people.
“I do not know,” I spoke honestly to my betrothed. “I genuinely do not. I… I must warn you, however, that that man isn’t—well, he isn’t what you and I thought him to be.”
As I turned back to Guin, I could see those dark eyebrows of hers furrowing even deeper. “How so?” she asked.
And I found myself taking yet another moment to answer. That question was a challenging one to answer without giving My Love a fright. “He… he’s not—his appearance is not what would be expected. He is much younger.”
“Younger as in a child?” Guin asked, to which I quickly shook my head no.
“Younger as in a young man. I would wager my age if asked.”
I studied my betrothed for a moment, working to decipher what she was possibly thinking, but her expression was as unattainable as I was used to. It was hard to determine what she was considering when she was processing, yet her honest words were what let me in when her outward expressions failed us both.
“That doesn’t seem right,” she more or less whispered after some time. “Is there anything more that’s… unexpected?”
And I knew how that question should’ve been answered. I knew what was right—what should’ve existed within my answer. I had always met her honesty with honesty of my own whenever words fell past my lips towards her… but this was different.
Instead, I found myself slowly shaking my head no, watching as my dishonesty removed more tension from her taut face. “Nothing more,” I assured her, and she soon believed my false words.
I couldn’t bring myself to be as honest as she expected. She needn’t know how close I had come to death at the hands of the one I had brought to our home.
And she surely couldn’t know how erratic the beating of my heart was—how irrational my body responded to the simple thought of that fiery red hair or near-perfect features after he had done something to link us in a way that wasn’t by any means natural.
After having drank his blood.
There was something that I felt now that shouldn’t be… I could feel the tethering chain that linked us, including the horrid assurance that if this man—this sorcerer —willed my heart to stop its beating entirely… he may just have the very means to do so now.
Whatever he had done in that forest to save my life could very well have been my own undoing. Not just my father’s.
It left me reexamining the original principles of our agreement, and whether I really knew what it was that I had agreed to when faced with death as my only other option.
••
Chapter Two: Retribution
Alright so since I’m late as all hell with this upload, you’re getting it here and on Substack at the same time. This is just my draft however, Substack will always have the more polished version
Also minor update: I switched the playlist a bit, mehro fits the theme of this chapter so much better so check out the first chap if you wanna see what song I added there
Okay, that’s it that’s all lol
Enjoy, lovelies!
xoxo
Emrys
“Do not leave this place.”
How utterly humorous, I couldn’t help but think to myself quietly as I felt the cold, freshly wet stone of gravel against the soft yet thick meshed skin of my underbelly with every sway my body mangled itself to make.
He had grown , I thought to myself. He was no longer the child that…
These grounds were different as I lay so close to them now. They reeked with something long forgotten by the people of Britain. Long forgotten was the decaying and rotting of flesh buried below, keeping away something so heinous a memory, only the old could still remember. Only the cold could. And the dirt was tough from it, from the wetness from the sky that yearned for something that could bring upon the land richness.
Soil to reap from.
Yet for now, there was no space beneath the rigid dirt to hold such things. Warmth must come first, and those frigid, shorter days had grown themselves longer and longer with each passing year. The people had forgotten what brought upon that richness. Or perhaps they were far too petrified of the ramifications with remembering. I had never smelt this once rich soil all those years ago the way I could smell its decay now.
I was forced to, given what I had become.
My only pleasant memories had come from when the soles of my feet would run barefoot above the rich dirt those years since lost to me…
And now my tongue was cast against its ruin, smelling the dirt as my body moved me across the grounds of the outskirts of Camelot, carrying me towards a place I had not returned to since I had left. Since I had retreated to the edge of the barrier, deep into the forest.
The place I was sensing was one I knew too well. One that once flowed with magick like milk and honey, but since reeked like rotting fish with a strong sense of familiarity. I had kept my distance from the castle by force… yet I had kept my distance from this place by choice.
There was a time for many things, and the son of the man I had nothing but a bottomless pit of hatred for had swung the pendulum. He had placed into motion something I had waited many, many years for.
Something that had been promised to me.
Through the cloak of the night, I kept myself to the battered paths least traveled. There were very few this night willing to move without the King’s orders. Willing to breathe without them if one were honest. And so they took to their homes. Their old, rundown, stone cast homes, with nothing that grew around them. Their doors made from wood that has been mangled by the weather, broken pieces at the framework that would let in a draft. And could possibly let in something else, I made note of.
But tonight, I wasn’t here to breach passage into these poorly built cottages. There was a time in
place for for what was to come, and tonight was not that time. Nor that place.
Those trapped away, keeping warm a home with wood burring chimneys, boiling a serving of stew for one with hopes to feed many, they would sleep with that cold chill passing under their doorway, feeling the sombrous air of this Kingdom knowing what awaits their wake from their slumber would be no less inviting.
But what they will be, is alive.
For now.
The home I was in search for was not built like these. This home was built with sturdy stone. With planks laid down above stone floor one by one, nailed into one another by something more than just iron nails. This home would have a study arch of a door at its entrance, with a thinner door at its rear leading out to a field.
The wood that was used was cut from that of a Firah tree, trees long since forgotten to this barren land.
This home would be just at the entrance to the forest, with enough space to keep it separated from what ruin filled the outskirts of the castle, and what hopelessness lived inside said ruin, tending to those fireplaces.
Its occupants were what made me tongue lift from this ground, unwilling to sense the disgust that lay inside. They made the magick that once flowed like rich milk from well fed cattle inside the cement used to cast each rock that built its walls, curdle. They had spoilt something once so sturdy- beautiful… yet if history withstood the test of time- the abuse so many here willingly inflicted upon her, she would tell thee that these cobblestones new occupants were accustomed to such things- to tarnishing something once beautiful.
I felt my body glide above what little grass still managed to grow, the blades faded with what little magick still ran below the grounds of this home. And as I neared its rear entrance to the larger home than those I passed through this journey this night, I felt myself slow.
My tricks were allowed in this home, but I couldn’t mask my magick like I was now.
That was as he intended.
It was what was placed, a spell cast below this sturdy ground he had built stone by stone. It forced any man that entered to come as they are, not as they were.
And so I found this serpent head of mine raising itself off the ground, pulling me to the height of a man before my body took form. I felt my shoulders forming, pushing back the barriers of that thick, scaled skin, forming the broadness of them before my legs did the same.
I had sensed very little stirring through this home, yet there was one still awake. The sharp scraping of the unique metal could be heard past this door to the rear entrance as I drew nearer. Curtains had been drawn on the windows, yet that wasn’t nearly enough to hide from what i could see. What I could sense.
Yet then again, they did not know it was I who lurked past their doors. Those whom they served had made them strong, yet whom they served had created wandering eyes.
Perhaps eyes that held the same detest as my own. But only time would tell.
My pale right hand stretched itself out past the cloak that masked me towards the handle of the door, placing my pale, long fingers onto the cold metal. It would surely be locked given who inhabited this home now… but this home would open willingly for what it recognized.
“ Seroli Dierius ,“ I whispered, the color from my eyes casting a low glow upon my hand, melting into the warm glow of my magick that flowed from the tips of my long fingers. And not a moment later, I heard the latch to the door click, unlocking itself.
Then the door slowly opened for me of its own accord.
I felt that deep hum welcoming me through the air as I walked through the cornered frames of this back door, smiling slightly under my hood at the home’s kind gesture. “I remember,” I whispered gently, taking those small steps into the home itself.
The room this door opened to was once a treasury room of the sorts, one where shelves where lined across the walls with relics, and heirlooms, boasting the power of those who lived inside if once knew what they were looking at. I see, as I looked around the dark room, taking into account the broom leaning at the wall near the door, and the many crates stack above one another, thick coats of dust lining each one, that it had become storage.
I felt a tingle of curiosity prod at my mind, yet it was my heart that put it in place. We would have time to feed that curiosity. Time in place , I reminded myself as I traveled further in. Time in place . For now, it was hatred that was to be fed, something sharp teeth bit lightly at my cloaked arms to remind me as I walked. Retribution was what willed me.
My feet traveled slow and light, undetected as I moved past the storage of this room to the arched opening. I could hear that metal still- the slight scraping of it. A familiar sound.
The one who sat awake, tending to it, was the one I was first looking for, and as I traveled nearer, I could see through the low glow of the lanterns nestled upon the wooden table in the dining of the home, that that man was still wide awake, sharpening his long, weighted sword.
The man was stocky in nature. He was short, his frame only partially covered by the end of the table he sat at. Interesting , I thought to myself. I remembered him to be taller. In his hand was that sword he was sharpening and polishing though the movement of his fat fingers were slow, most likely to not wake those that rested past that corridor to my left, just past the kichene of this home.
I could sense their lulled heartbeats.
The flame from the lantern sitting on the table near him had a low glow, the candle inside melted almost to nothing. And yet through it, I saw his distinct features.
They had grown harder , I thought. He had aged, with a beard like snow with ashen coal scattered upon it. His hair upon his head had since left him, but what hadn’t was that deep jagged scar carved from his temple down to his chin, and the look of it made me smile slightly beneath this hooded cloak. It no longer bled, but it surely hadn’t healed.
Those once bright blue eyes of his had ashened some, faded with color much like his beard, yet not faded entirely like his hair.
They were still eyes I would always remember.
And that scar was something I would never forget.
I felt the coolness on my arms still covered by my cloak. The eagerness of it- them .
“ Not yet ,“ I whispered, tucking my arms further inside this cloak. “ Patience .“ I reminded them.
And that was what got the attention of the man once sharpening his blade. His eyes cast to me, turning from where he stared on towards the corridor, to look my way. And when his eyes laid upon me- this cloaked figure standing at the arched doorway to the rest of his- the home he now inhabited, he shot to his feet immediately.
The action had been so sudden, the chair he once stood in almost toppled over, and yet the man was still quite leveled with his stance as he pointed his well-balanced sword my way.
“Who-” he started rather loudly… but then his eyes quickly darted back to that corridor- back to those still sound asleep- and he stopped himself from raising that deep, coarse voice of his. “Who are you?” He spoke much more quietly now, yet his voice was still firm with the intimidation he thought it bore. “Who dares to enter this home?”
“That is a fine sword.” I replied quietly, as I took another step into this home. My feet bore no sound with my movement, and this man’s gaze shifted to them, his darkly colored eyebrows furrowing slightly.
He was still as sharp as that blade of his. Yet he must be to appease who it was he served .
Who it was who granted him such a leveled sword.
“This home is protected,” he spoke lowly. “You know not which home you have entered.”
“I am all too aware. Of both this home, and of you… Kairon.” I whispered in return, causing those heavy eyelids to lift themselves, revealing more of his ashen colored eyes as they widened.
“That is not my name,” he whispered, yet the tone in that raspy voice of his had changed some. The features on his rounded face reflected what he knew to be true.
“You are correct,” I returned. “You have taken a new name… but I will not regard you as such. I will refer to you as the title of the common man. Of the farmer you were once before the King granted you a seat within his council.”
And I watched as those heavy lids lowered themselves again, settling themselves back into his hardened features as he looked at me with nothing but pure disgust.
To me, I saw a pungent man, one aged far beyond any years that should have been granted him. One who was in a home he shouldn’t be, with a family he shouldn’t have. Yet to him, I was nothing more than a man cloaked in darkness, standing but a few steps away, yet enough a distance to keep out of the light from the lowly lit candle.
“This-… this intrusion- this is punishable by- by death.” He told me, casting his sword further in my direction. He was holding it with two hands, his stocky body maintaining a stance of a man who had seen many years of combat in his lifetime… but it would not be enough. “You are but a man,” he continued, “none else can cross the framing of these doors. And you have entered the house of a fierce knight-”
“-Councilman-”
“Protector of the King.”
“And that is precisely what has brought me to your door. What has brought me past it. Past the framing,” I replied, taking yet another small step closer. I felt the light of the flame on my face just enough to reveal the lower half of my features to the man.
His eyelids lowered themselves further as he struggled to get a better look at me.
“And you are correct, dear councilman, this house is indeed protected,” I whispered more lowly as I felt the coldness occupying my arms slip up inside the sleeves of my shirt just enough for me to raise them past my cloak, pushing back the hood of it, and allowing the thick, wool fabric to fall back onto my shoulders. “But not by you.”
I watched his face closely as this older man took in my appearance. The hair perched just above his eyes shifted further as his eyebrows creased, yet still I waited patiently.
“I-… I do not-” he started, lifting his sword higher, pointing that daft metal towards me with more motion to strike. “I do not know of you,” I watched as his right foot shifted forward as he was ready to charge at me, “nor does it concern me who-
“It does, councilman,” I interrupted this man once more, feeling the edges of my lips tug up into a slight smile. “Do you not remember these eyes?” I whispered to him, feeling my magick flow more freely as I revealed to him just what made my golden eyes so peculiar. “For I could never forget a face like that… not with the scar that will never heal. A face touched by the Blade of Vilohs.” And I felt my eyes burn brighter as I remembered the years far before me. “My mother’s blade.”
This older man’s eyes widened slightly at that. One hand released the hold on the handle of that blade so he could reached up to touch his face. To run his fingers along the deep imprint my mother left, carved into him.
“Y-You…” he whispered to himself, causing this slight smile of mine to stretch itself a bit further. “The-… the boy- and your mother…” and when his eyes finally shifted from mine, to the stone walls that surrounded us- the wooden planks beneath our feet, those heavy lids only willed themselves to lift farther. “T-This house,” he whispered more to himself.
And that slight smile of mine would have stretched itself even further if it were not for his next choice of words.
“You-… you instill no fear in me,” he continued as his voice returned to that callus tone, and he brought both hands forward to his handle with a grin pulling upon his own lips. “You ran from this home, taking that whore of a mother with you. If I can cast you out once, I’ll do it again. As I told you, I am protected. “
My smile faltered at his words, yet I felt the real outrage from those still wrapped around my arms. I felt them glide across my cloaked body, traveling up the bareness of my skin under the cloth of my shirt.
“ I understand ,“ I whispered to them quietly. “ I did not take kindly to his choice of words either. “
“Who the fuck are you speaking to?” The mans words were all but spat at me, but I found them too careless to address. Instead, I chose to address his prior words.
“That trinket tucked under your shirt may have protected you from the boy I was,” I whispered to him, watching him hesitate, before his gaze inevitably shifted lower, down to his chest. “But much like you are no longer Kairon… I am no longer that boy. I have since taken a new name for myself.”
I could see the man still kept his leveled stance… yet there was a still tremor in his left hand in which he tried to sturdy his blade with his right.
“And… and what name is that?” He asked me.
“Emrys.” I replied. My magick was flowing far more freely now, working to keep those below this cloak at bay just a little while longer.
Yet I watched as this man blinked a few times slowly, before he unexpectedly let out a dry chuckle, fixing that tremor in his arm. “You are no Emrys. You are just that scared little boy here to try and collect-”
But then he stopped himself. He eyes remained on me a moment as those ashen eyes squinted, attempting desperately to understand the movement of my cloak. There was no keeping them at bay any longer. They had taken enough offense.
I felt as the creatures that had traveled up my chest and neck, finally pushed past the neck collar of my cloak, wrapping themselves around me like a necklace. A necklace of black scales, thick reptilian skin, and beady black eyes.
That was when the older man finally understood.
I could only watch in some honest delight as that metal in his hand slipped from him, falling that short distance and clamoring against the wooden floorboards.
Those weighted eyelids were alive now. They almost reached the thick hairs of his brows above them.
“Y-You-… Y-Y-You… he stammered, his hands still held out in front of him but the only wielded the strength of blades of grass. “Y-You can’t- Y-Y-You can’t be here-
“I can,” I told him. “ I am . My time away from Camelot is something I cannot control at the current moment… but my time away from this home has always been a choice. As I stated, you, councilman Kairon, are as interwoven in my return due to your nature with the King. And what once was your past with me. As it happens, I do not mind completing this other task of settling a score as it is to bleed into my main objective. Unfortunately for you, you don’t have nearly as strong a protection as the King.“
Kairon’s face paled considerably, yet once we heard the slightest stirring from the corridor, his head snapped in its direction, to which mine followed. And when his now completely paled eyes returned to me, I saw all ferociousness left, leave him.
“P-Please-”
“I am here to pay retribution.”
“P-Please, please-” the man insisted, begging as those hands clasped themselves together. “Please-” he was trying to keep his voice quiet, yet it would not be of use. Those past the corridor hadn’t completely stirred themselves awake, this I knew to be true… but only I.
“You and your wife, dear councilman, have been responsible for killing hundreds. Perhaps thousands since The Great War.”
“P-Please!” He whispered more harshly in his plea. “Please- please- spare us- they are just children-”
I could already feel one of mine start to slither down my pant leg, keeping to the shadows of the home as it moved down the corridor to do my bidding.
Kairon must of seen some movement pass through that hall’s floor because he tried to move, but my hand reached out, allowing my other companion to spring from it its resting position tucked under my cloak, the black venomous creature clearing what little distance between this older man and I, before attaching itself to and biting into his neck.
His hands had started to reach for it, but the bite was quick, with the creature letting go and falling back down to the floorboards before it slithered its way into the shadows of this home.
And the venom to stiffen his body was even quicker.
I saw his mouth gape open as he tried to yell, perhaps for his family, but no sound could come out, and when he turned to me, his eyes were met with my outstretched hand and the gold mist of my magick wrapped around his neck.
“I have not come to kill your children.” I whispered quietly to him, as my other creature, the one that sank its fangs deep into the man, slither back to me dutifully, abiding by my final decision. “I’m here to take the ones who wronged my people. For this is retribution , councilman Kairon… councilman… not a massacre.”
I watched as the veins beneath his skin started to blacken, spreading under his paling skin, his body growing brittle as he dropped to his knees in front of me.
“For my people do not resemble the defiled hearts of yours.”
••
Chapter Three: A Fortnight
Arthur
I did not give that sorcerer a fortnight.
I gave him three days.
“And just where are you off to?” I heard a voice say, forcing my heavily clothed body to jump slightly at the unexpected noise as my feet carried me to a sudden stop just near the end of this corridor.
I slowly turned around to find my sister Morgana standing out in the hall, her hands rubbing at her eyes gently. She must have just stirred from her slumber, she was now standing near the frame of her bedroom chamber, with more light seeping into the dark corridor from her room.
“I-” I replied, pulling the hood of the dark cloak back onto my shoulders to reveal myself to the young woman. She was dressed in a thin, long white nightgown, with sleeves that stopped just past her shoulders, and a length that almost swept the stone floors below both our feet, her dark curls tossed freely down her shoulders and back in a tangled mess, further revealing to me that she had only just awoken. Yet, of course she had… this was no hour for any to wander the castle halls unless their means were to guard it. And that was precisely why I, myself, was, remaining to the shadows, moving undetected.
Or so I thought.
“I am… I am to tend to my horse,” I replied quietly, not willing to awaken Guin whose chamber was also in this hall, near mine and Morgana’s. My betrothed had not known of my leave tonight. Had she known, she would not have agreed for me to go. At the very least, not alone. “I intend to hunt again come dawn.”
Morgana rubbed her eyes a bit more roughly before her arms soon fell gently to her side. She was barefoot on these stone castle floors because of course she was . She had learned absolutely nothing of our fathers wrath, yet at least she was indoors. Often times it made me believe that she held a special place in his cold heart, whether he would find it fitting to ever reveal that openly. His punishment for the young woman was never as harsh as my own- and yet I did well to remind myself of why that was.
Of who she was.
“Now? At such a time?” she asked, her dark eyebrows furrowing as those eyelids blinked more of her grogginess away. The dimly lit sconces lining the palace walls, fastened by iron mounts, still bore enough light for me to witness her soft features. She had lines etched into the porcelain skin of her cheeks from a deep slumber, which made me question what had stirred her. What had awoken the seemingly unawakenable when sleep held her so tightly in its grasp? It must’ve been something grand for her to act on it.
I simply nodded, unable to give a better answer for why I was traveling at this time. “And what has awoken you?” I asked her instead, hoping I would distract this young, curious woman, yet my voice was laced with some concern.
“Water.” she replied quietly, “my throat is like sand.” Our voices were both low, working to not awaken our father either, though his chamber wasn’t near ours, with his overlooking the field behind this home. There were still guards making rounds within the castle however, who were unwaveringly loyal enough to report on our activity.
“Carry on then,” I told her with some softness in my tone, the edges of my lips curling up slightly as she gave me a warm smile. “And be sure not to wake father,” I added. Morgana gave me one firm, assuring nod before she continued on on those soles of her feet, quickening her pace down the side stairwell the guards rarely ever used, as I continued on towards the rear entrance of the castle.
My father was asleep. That I was sure of… yet I dared to not use the entrance directly below his chambers. Instead, my feet carried me down the rear stairwell, continuing past the first floor of the castle to enter into the winding passageways that existed below. These twisting halls were darker, colder, the only light being the scarce scattering of torches that existed at every passage which intersected, leading to a new path. They were passageways meant for war- for if we were to ever be attacked, and those that inhabited this castle needed to make for a haste escape.
And while there were many passageways, enough to create a labyrinth beneath this castle, only those who lived in, and armed it, knew of the intricate system made to further thwart any who may follow us down here. There was one passageway that was not patrolled by the guards of the castle, one that lead below the earth, past the castle and eventually to a trap door that opened into the stables- a particular passage created for those to flee by horse if the palace was ever to come under siege.
This passageway bore no guards large in part because the entrance to the stable itself had two guards posted outside of it from when the sun had fallen from the sky, to when it arose again.
Inside the stables, however, there was one more entrance that my father hadn’t known of. One I, myself, had built for when I needed to travel to and from this home undetected. And this was the path my feet guided me towards this night.
My hands felt against the passages stone walls as I walked through the rather cramped space, my boots taking silent steps on the dirtied stone floor until I reached its end where there were few wooden steps built to a trap door with a latch. And as I quietly undid that latch, stepping then pulling myself up into the barely lit stables, I could hear the quiet noises of our horses as they rested.
There were twelve or so horses housed in this stable, yet as some rose from their rest to pull their heads over their stall doors, they did not stir when they recognized me, especially as I drew a finger from my dark cloak and brought it to my lips, signaling with a slight smile under my hood for them to remain still. I had traveled this path many times before, with them obeying my request for silence each time. My disobedience was a secret they were willing to keep on my behalf, refusing to alert the two guards who stood through the night, patrolling this stable diligently.
I had yet to see one guard leave their post throughout the years I had been alive. And I was grateful that no guard had ever discovered my own whereabouts within this passageway during hours my father commanded my attendance in my chamber.
I moved quietly, and freely, with nothing strapped to me but my sword, hidden by the cloak that covered me as I very slowly pushed the crates at the far end of the stables which blocked the secret door I had made- carved long before I had reached an age to marry- when I was still learning to carry a sword correctly.
And I made sure I carried myself with even more care as I slowly opened it, hearing the lightest sound of hay barrels shifting that were placed right outside to conceal it. I was exiting from the right side of the stable, the side not visible from my fathers window, and with the darkness of the night cloaking me, I managed to break freely from this side, returning the stacks of hay to their rightful place, and keeping my feet light as I carefully made my way into the open field, nearing the thinning of a forest some hundred or so steps away.
The place I had directed this sorcerer towards was an old cottage, one long forgotten and now securely masked by being close to the entrance of the forest, with no made paths in sight. It had belonged to a woman who passed some years ago, one my father had not known of. I would visit the home after her passing, from time to time during my hunts, but the soil around the small cottage was so barren, there was none who could make it a home now.
I could feel this heartbeat of mine grow stronger as I neared, revealing its seemingly poor health as that uncertainty of what was to come next riddled me. This sorcerer had asked for a fortnight, yet he had joined me so freely when I sought him out, assuring me that he need not any preparation, that I did not understand the time he was asking for now.
I did not have the time he was asking for, I reminded myself.
In less than a moon, Camelot would be hosting our annual hunt, welcoming the strongest in Britain to register, and this had meant that there would be guards roaming every inch of Camelot and the forest that surrounded this city, as security for my father. Then what would follow was something my father had called the Grand Reckoning. He had plans to order guards into every home throughout the land to search them. Thoroughly . To round up all who could be accused of practicing magick, innocent or not, to be killed.
It… it brought memories of when this had first happened. When I had only witnessed ten trips around the Sun before this nation was cast into what the people of Britain would call the Dark Ages.
I had hoped to end him far before this could happen again. The people had not known that this was to come. They were unsuspecting, therefore I suspected that many… many would perish during.
And I could not allow that amount of bloodshed on this land.
My feet carried me swiftly, for I had very little time before the sun would take to the sky once more, making that open stretch of field between the west end of this forest, and the stable itself, unsafe for travel. I needed to be back within the palace walls by then. Back in my chamber before my father awoke.
And it wasn’t long, as I navigated this forest at night, before I soon saw the outline of the small cottage I was looking for.
There was a part of me that did worry. A part that thought I may find this place empty once I knocked on the thinning wood of that door… and if I did, what was I to do then? What could I? This sorcerer… he had given me his word… but I still hadn’t quite understood how he knew to trust my intentions with my father.
Then again , I reminded myself as my feet slowed to a stop just outside that door, I did not know of him . Gisela was who sent me to him. She must’ve seen something that I couldn’t.
I raised my right hand to knock, but before I could, I heard the metal of a latch before the door slowly opened inward, causing my heart to beat all the quicker. There was no man who met me at this door. Just darkness that lie inside.
And yet I still took a rather hesitant step in.
“Emrys?” I whispered quietly into that darkness as my hand felt for the door to slowly close it behind me. It was so dark inside, I could barely make out anything. I knew there was a table to the farthest wall on my right, an open kichene on my left, and a small bed located in the farthest back left corner of the small home.
Nothing answered me.
And so I called out again quietly “Emrys?”
But then I felt it. Something thick and heavy moving against my feet that forced me to stumble back into that closed door.
“ Did I not tell you to give me a fortnight, sssire? “ A voice hissed, causing my entire body to still, feeling the rigid cold of the air that suddenly engulfed everything. This voice was familiar. I found myself pressing my back even further into the thinning door, unsure of how much weight it would take before it may fall right off the hinges from the wood’s decay.
Perhaps this was a mistake, I had thought to myself, but before any words could leave my lips, I heard the voice whisper “ illuminae ,“ and a wick of a candle on the table to my right was lit ablaze, with a man in a hooded cloak standing at the left side, beside it.
The flame burned bright, yet all I saw was the lower half of the man’s face, with some of his long, fiery red hair, pulled forward, draping down to his covered chest. His slight stubble on his face was trimmed thinner now, and those slightly tinted red lips were pursed in clear annoyance. “Well?” He had asked, still standing there.
“I…” I started, unsure of how I had planned to explain myself. With this plan in mind, I had thought I would barge in here and demand this man at least begin what he and I had agreed upon. We had very little time to carry out such a plan before our opportunity would be ripped from us… but as I watch this man’s arms appear from that shielded cloak, raising them to his hood to push the thick material back, that mouth of mine that had opened to say more, shut itself quickly. The man’s eyes were a dimly glowing yellow. Something unnatural, yet ethereal as my sight fixed on them. On him. It sent a deep shiver down my spine.
“Well?” He asked me again, yet I was still at a loss for an explanation. I allowed my thoughts to finalize before any words fell past my lips.
“We do not have a fortnight.” I found myself saying after some time.
“I believe you already spoke those words the first night I asked for a fortnight.” He replied.
“Y-Yes…” my voice wandered off, unsure of how to respond now.
“And so you arrived here to do what exactly? Force my hand? Do you believe you possess the amount of power it would take to do so?” His words were chilling. They were as cold as the temperature in this small cottage, and for a moment I asked myself how it was he managed to stay in such a place, with no fire burning in the fire place near the the table here, directly behind him, but I seized those thoughts completely.
He had survived in that forest, had he not? I was sure to remind myself.
“I… I came to understand the manners in which you plan to breach the castle.” I found myself replying. It was a worthy ask.
“And I had ordered you to give me a fortnight.” Was his response.
“No man orders me-”
“Uther Pendragon does, does he not?” The sorcerer asked, taking a torch to the words I was about to utter, and burning them to a crisp.
“That is something I am attempting to rid myself of,” I soon reminded him, to which the man did something I hadn’t expected.
He gestured to the chair in front of me, slightly on my right, for me to take a seat. And he did the same as he sat at the other end of this small rectangular wooden slab perched upon four uneven legs. I found myself raising my hands to my hood to remove it, before I reached for a wooden chair and pulled it out, the legs of it dragging against the stone floor before I took a seat.
“ Illuminae ,“ the sorcerer whispered, raising his hand again to the candle near him, and that flame immediately cackled, burning brighter between us. I could see more of him now- the clear sharpness of his features. His face was no longer as taut with pure irritance, though I still remained weary in the presence of this druid.
He had almost killed me once before, after all.
“Do you know what protects your castle from my entry?” He asked me with that low, smooth voice of his. I slowly turned my head side to side. “There is much that you do not know of your father. The very magick he has sought to destroy, he, himself, harbours some of.”
“I… I believed that to be the case,” I admitted to this sorcerer, watching as his body shifted back in his wooden seat, the sounds of the creaking wood reacting to that shifted weight.
The only way my father could have kept magick from this land would have had to be with magick itself. If not, we were just men to those who were stronger.
“There is a winding of passageways within the walls of Camelot. A room hidden- tucked away. Within this room, there are relics, heirlooms of my people seized within The Great War. And there is something that sits in that room with them. Something not from my people, yet something of my people.”
I found myself working to understand that. I knew not what he spoke of.
“What you will need to acquire and bring to me is this,” the sorcerer continued, raising his right hand to whisper “ Varius foreia ,“ and I could only watch as a flash of warm, emberglow light left the tips of the man’s slender, pale fingers, before the brightly burning flame between us grew in size, the point of the flame dancing before it swirled through the otherwise dark room, molding itself into the shape of something… of a flower.
I did not recognize this flower. I had never seen it before, however I was sure to memorize its shape before that dancing light returned itself to its flame, the image vanishing into the darkness surrounding us.
“This room is locked away by a particular key protected by Uther Pendragon. It is the only way to enter.”
“Then I am to steal it?” I asked him, watching as the man returned his arms beneath his cloak. successfully covering the rest of his body again.
When I had first met this sorcerer, his attire had been completely different, his skin exposed within the deepest parts of that forest, yet now he wore material that hid every part of him. That…
My mind traveled back to the journey we crossed to return to Camelot. The three days we had ridden for. How that cloak had materialized around his body as we rode, his hands only touching the garment of my own clothing to keep him steady, nothing more. I had met him that night with nothing. No sword that could cut him. No armor that could protect me. And yet I could barely feel his touch, his lips remaining closed regardless of what little questions I asked during our return.
Now, here in Camelot, the sorcerer was even more reserved. I knew little about him then- the serpent turning into a man… and yet I felt as if I knew even less now.
“Am I to steal it then?” I asked Emrys again, to which he surprised me with a low, deep chuckle.
“Uther would tear out his lungs, breaching his chest cavity and ripping them out with his own bare hands before he would pass this key to you. What you are to do, is gain his trust.”
“He is my father,” I spoke suddenly, leaning forward in this old chair that barely held my weight as is, as I cast my sword further to my side. “I own his trust-”
“ That you do not. You do not know your father the way I know your father. The way my people do- did . You do not share his mind, however ill it may surely be.“ Emrys leaned forward in that seat himself, eliminating more of the space between us in the darkness of this room. “What you are to do, sssire , is feign a heart as black as his. Convince him that you and he are of one mind. He will not let you touch that key that hangs from his neck, however he may show you that room. Do what it may take to enter it, and once you are inside, discreetly pocket that flower.”
There was a silence that slipped through the crevices of this old stone home, seeping between us, and occupying space for some time.
“Am I to bring it to you?” I asked finally, choosing to settle with his words. I did not take kindly to this sorcerer’s opinions- I questioned how he could possibly know more about the bond between Uther and I- know more than I would about my bond between said father and his only son.
“No,” Emrys replied. “You are to bring it to a home. The one of the late Silus Blackenwell. There is a room in the back of the large cottage, one used for storage. Under the lowest shelf on your right, you will find a stone that should not be, pull it from the wall and place the flower safely inside.”
“The late? “ I questioned quietly. “Councilman Silus Blackenwell isn’t dead.”
“He is now,” Emrys replied… and with such simpleness, I felt myself leaning further in this chair suddenly, testing the strength of its wooden legs. “Come daylight,” he continued, “your father’s men will investigate why the councilman has not reported in. I want you to join them. In that home, you will find the old man and his wife to be dead. Their two children will still be resting, unaware of such travesty. Wake them, take them from the home and leave it vacant- make note of the room I am telling you, yet draw no attention to it. Make sure that home remains empty, and once you have that flower, return it there. Place it inside the wall.”
“What…” my voice trailed off a moment. “What… what did you-”
“You called upon me, dear sssire ,” Emrys replied, those eyes of his burning brighter. “You’ve drawn your sword and notched a place on the thick string that weaves time. Sensing we have little of it now, I’ve taken it upon myself to expedite our work-”
“I told you to remain here-” I bit back.
“And I told you I would kill your father. In order for this to happen, the councilman could not live.”
“Why?” I asked, attempting to process what this druid had just disclosed to me. He had killed-
“He was more than just a councilman. You are looking for a peaceful transfer of power once Uther is gone. You want his death to appear the least suspicious. I will not tell you how, but Councilman Silus Blackenwell is the only man in Camelot who would know it was me who did it.”
My eyelids lifted, my eyes growing wider at that confession.
“Now go,” he insisted finally, his pale hands reappearing from the cover of his cloak, and he lifted them to reach for its hood. “Return to the castle before dawn. Before your father awakens. There’s very little time left.”
••
Chapter Four: The Prince And His Knights
Emrys
The decision Arthur had made to visit me was one I thought to be purely inexcusable… and yet I still opened that door for the man once he knocked, my serpent body taking the shape of a man myself as he soon stepped inside.
His light eyes were masked by darkness, his body fully cloaked in an attempt to hide himself more successfully. He smelt of a day that had worn itself into the thick fabric of his body, the smell of certain bark and the fresh grass against the forest floor. He had been out there near the entrance to the forest, more than likely riding with his horse. I did not know how he evaded the castle guards this late into the evening, but I still let him inside this old, long forgotten cottage, having surely known what dangers could face me with him here.
And I had had work to do myself. Upon my return from my visit to the Councilman and his family, I smelt something on the prince that sincerely troubled me, and the place he had placed his mouth when he drank from me. I needed to verify a few things- a few constituents who may have grown closer to the naive man than I first thought to believe.
And yet… I let him in .
Once he had finally found some comfort with my requests, and took his leave, I followed him out, breaching the darkness before he could notice I had taken the form of a serpent once more. I kept to the darkness of night, my body weaving through the terrain as my thick underbelly slid across the ground, keeping my distance from the man who quietly returned back to his home. I watched as he cut through the openness of the field at the back of the castle, before crouching down quietly to move some barrels of hay and reveal a space small enough for him to crawl through.
The guards that stood posted at the front of the stable were unaware, each making a small gesture to yawn, signally their exhaustion. Day would soon come, with lightness from the sun baring its fangs to the creatures of the night. I would be finding rest shortly myself, preparing to use more of my magick for once the prince took his leave with Uther’s men.
This night had tired me, much like those guards barely holding themselves up outside that stable, I too would soon collapse. It had reminded me of the power it took to be what I had since become. The King of Serpents- of my companions. They held souls of rage, and being here now, away from my home, their immense rage was only stronger. I’d but begged them to hold that rage in. To not act yet, but rather allow time for what I planned here in Camelot. The killing of the Councilman and his wife was necessary but the harming of the children was not.
We were not murders. We were those that had survived amidst travesty brought upon by one man… and it was he whom deserved to truly perish, not the innocent.
I watch now as Arthur made it safely inside before reaching through that hole in the wall to careful move those barrels of hay back to their original resting position. He was clever, I could give him that. Cunning even, making such a bold yet undetectable escape and return… and yet I found me laying at the entrance of that forest, giving it some time before I took my leave, parting from the outskirts of the castle.
And I could not help but think as I molded myself into a man again, and entered the cottage, that this would be a challenge for me.
Keeping a man alive who was destined- prophesied to kill himself if he were to follow in the footsteps of his father.
Sleep did not find me well, yet the cold darkness of this cottage did well to remind me of the darkness of the forest- something comforting to me having now made it a home for so long.
The cold firmness of the bed was a reminder of the forest floor. The creatures that slivered over my bare body as I slept reminded me of the company I kept. The scaly skin was cold and firm, but smooth to the touch. I could feel the unrest they bore, and yet they allowed me to find of a bit of some, understanding that I would need mine to move through the forest in the day undetected.
They soon rested on my bare upper chest before they too joined me in a slumber. Had one seen this now, they would believe I was perhaps being eaten alive, but the small bites they took, their sharp fangs piercing my skin, was something I accepted. It was something I welcomed, with my blood providing for them the same magick that coursed through me.
And they never took too much.
They knew they needed me, and could not exist without me at my fullest strength, just as I needed them.
When I awoke, light had already taken to the sky. I sensed one of my companions already stirring outside this small cottage, making note of this surrounding that was far different from the edge of the forest we had found ourselves in. And when I awoke, I was met with the startling pains of hunger. My stomach clawed away at itself, reminding me of the simple fact that I hadn’t taken food yet. Not in days. Not since our return to Camelot.
I thought a moment, remaining seated on the mattress of this thin bed for some time, simply thinking. There was the possibility of a hunt, yet I would have to hunt at night when shielded under the cloak of darkness. Perhaps I could scavenge for something less, for berries or fresh wild vegetation, yet that would all take place at night. In addition, I did not care for leaving this cottage in my human body. I found it all to be far too risky.
The advantage of not having a single soul besides Arthur know that I had returned, was far too great to jeopardize. Uther needed to be unsuspecting. I needed him to feel what would be a false sense of security within his seemingly protected castle walls. If he acted rash and did something, like move that flower from where it was now perhaps, I may never gain access to that castle, and the King took no issue with keeping himself held in there.
I eventually decided that I would pray I find something along the way, during my journey through the forest to my old home. I would have to stay further inside this forest to maintain my safety from Arthur and Uther’s men, however my mission was to make certain the prince entered the home himself. That was a crucial, vital part of all what was to come.
My serpents would scatter themselves for me, working as my most loyal spies, yet today I moved on foot. And unfortunately for me, while these companions did not need food, the supply of my blood was their food source besides those that ventured too close to our home, and they rarely ever requested it… I was not made of the same. I could go for some time while molded to the same as them, however this vessel of a man I was in now required no more than four or five days with nothing.
During the more dire months, I remained in the state of a serpent, allowing my companions to feed off men who made the unfortunate decision to seek me out. They did not appreciate the man’s blood like mine, but it was what was required for us all to survive.
And we had. We had survived. I chose to remind these slithering creatures of that as I took my leave from the cot to get myself dressed, pulling my black cloak over the white undershirt. My friends did not like me this dressed, they much prefer to move freely over my arms and chest, wrapping themselves around my neck like a necklace… but that wouldn’t do while here in Camelot. If anyone was to discover me, I still had some security with being fully clothed. If the saw the serpents that kept to me like this, I would be noticed as the Serpent King immediately, with no hope of using the vessel I possessed to mask my true identity.
Not even those who knew of me then, would recognize me now. Not after what he did to me.
My companions had been well fed through the night, accepting of the ask I had now as we quietly started to travel through the forest. Around my neck, under this cloak, was an amulet I had received from my journey through realms. I much enjoyed those journeys, yet my companions couldn’t pass through to other realms. They were tethered here by my magick, therefore I always returned.
This amulet allowed me to mask my identity, creating a mirror through my body. I would keep close to Arthur and the men he had neared the forest with, but not close enough to endanger myself. I was only watching him, ensuring he would be successful, nothing more.
I could hear them- their special metal armor clanking slightly and they stomped through the open terrain in those thick, leather boots. I heard the slight chatter of the men- them talking mostly amongst themselves as Arthur remained quiet. I knew it was three men by just their footsteps, but I also knew of the two and their closeness with the King. They were who he entrusted for work like this, anything taking place on the outskirts of Camelot.
I listened closely as they moved, directing my companions who were able to draw closer, to do so. They were more or less my sight and my hearing as they worked as a beacon to tunnel information to me, but they sensed my direction given with how much closer they could draw nearer. The men knew of snakes in this forest, but Arthur now knew of what serpents surrounded me, and he need not know of what I was doing now.
Perhaps… what I done for longer than I would ever care to admit to anyone.
The men were discussing what could’ve possibly happened to the councilman. They spoke of a journey he perhaps had to go on unexpectedly, before they soon agreed that the councilman would never travel without alerting the King. Something that, granted, was very true.
And yet as they settled on potential foul play, it was Arthur who finally spoke, insisting the two other men that there had to be a plausible explanation for this, further assuring those men all while knowing the truth. I had assured him the prior night that the deaths would not look suspicious in any way. I had made sure of it. Nothing would look out of the ordinary besides the dead bodies.
Arthur’s assurance with the men had put them at ease as they walked. The journey was far, but doable on foot, yet I knew that Arthur should have insisted on taking his considering he was to need a reason if anyone suspect him of traveling to the stables during the night. This put me at an advantage, however. It allowed to draw nearer than I could’ve had the men been accompanied by them. I was close enough to hear the men speaking clearly, yet I focused on the step I took amidst the forest floor. Any missteps and my presence would be known.
As we walked, Uther’s men, the two knights to accompany the prince, spoke of a woman. Guinevere. King Uther was speaking of wedding both Arthur and her in less than a moon’s time according to one of the knights, which surprised me as I followed closely, listening in intently now.
“Your father must approve greatly. He has wasted little time with this engagement.” The first man who led the rest spoke, his full armor rattling as he combed his fingers through his charcoal black, shoulder length hair. I knew this man to be known as Sir Lancelot. He was loved by many in this Kingdom including the king, but I found him to be nothing more than an arrogant young man.
“Yes. He has been pining for our union for many moons now.” Arthur explained.
“And is this of your ask or his?” Lancelot questioned, forcing Arthur to shift his gaze from straight on ahead, to his left, at the man who slowed for Arthur to join him at his side as they walked.
“Do not tell me you still fancy the beautiful Guinevere,” the second man spoke as he caught up with Arthur at his right, turning to the other knight. I knew this knight to be Sir Bedivere, one of the prince’s closest companions and most loyal protector.
“And she is just that,” Sir Lancelot returned, “ beautiful . I only ask he keeps in mind all the eligible suitors the beautiful Guinevere would have as he weds her. That she chose him amongst them all.“
“Your first mistake dear Lancelot, was believing your name was on any list pertaining to that.” Sir Bedivere was quick to respond with, causing Sir Lancelot’s sharp features to tighten further, but the prince just laughed.
“Oh dear friend,” Arthur spoke, his laughter dying some as he placed a firm hand on Lancelot’s armored right shoulder. “Your adoration for My Love is nothing but flattery to me. And you have my word, I will give her the love she so humbly deserves, keeping suitors like yourself in mind.”
And that had earned Arthur a grin from Sir Lancelot as he quickened his pace to match Arthur’s and the other knight.
I was… surprised to hear of their union. Guinevere had been close to Arthur for some time, but I just- I had never thought that-
This is good , I reminded myself. It’s a union King Uther approves of. It’s something in Arthur’s favour if he is to gain more of his father’s trust for what was to come.
“I know the King’s orders, but tell us honestly Your Highness… have you and her commenced this marriage prematurely? You know we will not tell a single soul in all of Camelot,” Sir Bedivere asked, and I watched as Arthur lowered his hand from Sir Lancelot’s shoulder before turning his head to Bedivere.
“T-That is strictly proh-”
“Prohibited, yes, yes, I’m well aware. Be honest with us though sire. Many men- and women- have certain… urges. It is only natural, and I’m sure there are many things that take place in that castle to which King Uther does not know of.”
Sir Bedivere had a friendly tone, and yet the prince grew rigid at that insinuation.
“Words like those spoken could get you beheaded.” He told his friend and knight more seriously.
“And yet I am your friend, as well as your protector Your Highness. I am quite willing to take my chances.”
“I think Arthur choosing to uphold the tradition is very respectable and noble-”
“Of course you do,” Sir Bedivere’s voice cut in right after Lancelot, earning the short man a glare.
“ I was saying ,“ Lancelot then continued, choosing to ignore the interruption, “that Arthur is doing right by her. He is making her a proper woman and wife first-”
“I’ve got ten gold coins on your willingness to do anything to smell the soles of the feet from which she walks upon right now, let alone earn a night with her-”
“ Silence ,“ Arthur interrupted this time, successfully silencing both knights, before turning to Sir Bedivere. “You can make any comments against Lancelot, but you will not display any amount of disrespect with my betrothed. She has respected the decision to marry me, and she has further respected the decision to honor tradition. I would not disturb the respect granted to her by my father for doing so. Are these words clear enough for you?” He then asked the short knight, to which he nodded to the prince.
Lancelot only chuckled to himself at the exchange of words, causing both men to turn to him. “It’s nothing,” he assured them both, “I just believe that you will be an excellent King.”
To that comment, Arthur gave his knight a smile, whilst Bedivere whispered under his breath “of course you’d think that because of this.”
And I would be nothing but a liar if I was to say it didn’t match the edges of my own lips tugging up slightly.
••
Chapter Five: Councilman Blackenwell
Hello lovelies!
Sorry I’ve been so MIA, I’m dealing with a whole lot right now but I haven’t stopped writing!
That being said, I have four chapters lined up for this book today, then everything is getting updated on Substack for all work, and I’m starting a new short story there today too
As always, my drafts are here, my polished versions are on Substack.
Enjoy!
xoxo
Arthur
I had joined the Pendragon’s most loyal knights come a little past dawn.
My first conversation after waking, however, was with my father.
“These eggs are not shit.” He stated partially to himself as he took another bite at our dining table. The sun had barely woken, Morgana and Guinevere were still at rest, but I had made sure to wake early to join him.
“I will let Gisela know of your approval,” I stated, seating next to him at the long, sturdy built dining table that could seat twelve.
“You will do no such thing,” he replied as his darkened eyes cast over to me, in this seat adjacent to his position at the head of the table. “I would like to see how she would improve upon them. If you offer her praise, I will be eating the same thing every fucking morning.”
I found myself only nodding at his words. The compliment was at least an improvement on his usual vile critiques before Gisela started helping in the kichene.
“You have awakened early. I’m surprised to see you here with me now.” The older man added. I could see the creases in his face deepen as they began to age his further while his lips pulled into a slight smile. “I know I start my days before dawn. I never could quite get you and your sister to awaken at this time, I’m proud you are sitting before me now, your own plate should be out shortly.”
“Thank you,” I replied. “I am… I am going to start making this a habit then. If you find it suitable,” I then added, remembering Emrys’s word- his request . And that was when my gaze panned from my father’s light eyes down to his slightly open shirt. To the leather string around his neck that was tucked into it, holding something I had always wondered about yet never questioned. I had just assumed it may have been for his work, yet as I sat with him now, I understood why Emrys insisted that I would have to gain this man’s trust to enter that room with him. There was no possibility of stealing it, not while it was always around his neck.
“There is some business to attend to this morning. Councilman Silus Blackenwell has not reported in. He keeps hours even earlier than my own, believe it or not, and this is unheard of- it is unlike the man. I will be sending some men to go to his home once more daylight takes the sky.”
“Send me,” I insisted almost immediately. My heart beat harder with worry as my father’s dark brown eyebrows furrowed deeply, yet that weight was lifted when his lips soon curled up into a smile.
“You rarely ever wish to involve yourself in business of mine. What has changed?” He asked me.
I had decided to take some time to think before words fell past my lips, deciding how best to answer that. “I…” I then found myself starting, “I wish to involve myself further. This kingdom will one day be not only a responsibility of mine, but the most important, vital responsibility. If I wish to hold a candle to the work you have done, then I must do more myself- under your guidance and command of course.”
And those words of mine only made my father’s smile grow. “You know not how those words make my heart grow. I came to assume you were growing to dislike me. To dislike the blood on my hands, however necessarily it has surely been.”
I had managed to catch myself before my own growing smile could falter. I knew that to not be- that his actions were very much so the farthest thing from necessary… but I held my tongue and kept that smile directed towards this older man. “I may have succumbed to my naivety, but I…” It took everything in me to continue this sentence, yet I forced myself to carry on. “I understand the vision you have for this land now. I have received clarity on its importance.”
My father gave me a smile so genuine, I was almost startled by it. He had never smiled like this with me before. More often than not, I received frowns at the actions of his that I always found myself questioning.
“You are making me quite proud this morning, son. Quite proud.” He insisted, before the fork in his hand reached down to scoop at more of the eggs on his plate. As he chewed that next bite, there was a knock on the only door that gained entry to this room. “Enter!” He called out, still chewing, yet we both glanced over to see Gisela enter with a plate in her hand.
She remained quiet as she pushed the heavy door open the remainder of the way, waiting patiently near the door for my father to gesture her over with his hand still holding his fork. The older woman, now dressed in plain clothes and an apron tied tightly around her waist, entered the room. My father paid her no mind as he always did, yet I offered a slight nod as she set the plate in front of me.
Had this been any other meal, one not shared with King Uther, I would have given a warm smile and a polite thank you, but I remained silent, allowing the old woman to serve. I could see that she bore no emotion as she did so before she quickly took her leave, but the disdain in those eyes had told me that she had not approved of this union between my father and I.
I would need to explain myself to her soon, once it was safe to. For now, however, my attention returned to the plate of eggs that had been scrambled, and two thick sausages that genuinely made my stomach rumble with hunger. I did not touch a single thing until my father gave me the word I would always wait on when he and I found ourselves at the table together.
“Eat.” he told me, before his fork reached for its next filling of food. His free hand simultaneously stretched forward for the pitcher of water positioned on the table before lifting it to fill the empty glass next his plate, and pushing the glass across the wooden surface my way. “And drink. If you are to leave this castle this day, you will need it.”
“Thank you,” I nodded to him. It felt wrong to thank this older man, and not the woman who had prepared such a meal, yet I knew I had no choice. This simple gesture was a tender one from my father, and he had given me very few since I was brought into this world.
“Am I to go alone?” I then asked as I reached for the glass of water and brought it to my lips. My father set his fork on his clay plate immediately, the metal clanging against it harshly before he reached for the cloth serviette resting on his lap and brought it to lips, wiping them. Then he tossed it onto the table near his plate.
“Arthur Pendragon, you are the heir to the fucking throne. My only heir. You are never to venture past the perimeter of Camelot without an escort, and I may allow you to hunt alone, but you know where you do not cross. The Councilman’s home is just past that perimeter, therefore you will have an escort. I will allow you to pick your men.”
Had my father known that I crossed that perimeter and ventured to the edge of the forest near the barrier to the other realms… he would have killed me himself, and just tried again for another son.
I worked to think of something to say that could lighten that anger he now had with me. Unfortunately it was all too easy to anger him.
“I will travel with Sir Lancelot, and Sir Bedivere, our most loyal.” I told him after some time, watching as he reached for his fork again, which was a gesture to let me know his anger with me was not grand enough to take this moment from us. He was genuine when he said he was happy about the decisions I had made this morning.
“You have drawn close with them.” He noted, before taking his next bite of food.
“I am assuring that they will stand with me, too, when it is my time to transition to the throne… does it not please you?” I asked him, yet my father quickly shook his head, chewing.
“It pleases me greatly, as does your union with Guinevere. Are you two prepared for the ceremony?”
I almost scoffed at my father’s answer. He did not favour who I chose, he only favoured that I chose. He had been speaking of my duty to have someone at my side, even though he, himself, did not. And I knew that was only due to his growing suspicion that I may never choose… a woman. I had never shown one any interest before I asked Guinevere to be with me forever- to be my forever. My father immediately welcomed her into the castle, allowing me to make Gisela her servant, yet I knew his heart.
I knew he would soon question the intentions of his son with love had I not acted quickly.
And I did love Guin, I did- I would lay my life down for her… yet only, the love I had was not love of a man who would take her hand in marriage, though I believed I could learn. When I had asked for her hand, I knew she would say yes. Guin had always wanted more between us. I felt her love in every action, including the kiss we had shared some moons ago, and there was no woman I knew and trusted better, for I provided her safety to express herself and her troubles with my father freely.
I trusted that her and I could build the kingdom free of strife and discord, and that she would be the most loyal one at my side.
My issue now, however, was the consummation of our marriage.
That she may then find out the truth.
I did not know of whether she could accept it. And I had surely hoped my father would be gone long before he discovered my… preferences.
King Uther had approved of Lancelot and Bedivere, and so, when the time came, we prepared ourselves. My father had also been correct in his assumptions that I had grown close with these two, yet what he hadn’t known was that our friendship stretched beyond that of the crown. They were my brothers, men who would follow me into darkness itself. They did not approve of my father’s actions, yet I knew they had no choice in loyalty to the throne.
They were our best men in combat which was what had earned them the title of the most loyal- my father wanted them for his gain and so he decided to take it.
We had decided to move by foot, my men and I already accustomed to traveling great distance without our horses, and we did not have much time shared among us considering my father’s diligence with his work. We also moved by foot because Bedivere’s horse honestly did not like the man.
As we began our journey, the conversation flowed freely. I welcomed the banter between I and my two good friends, whilst the sun beaming directly above made this journey clear.
The only thing I noticed as we walked, was the few snakes that we passed. This forest held many, yet this time, after my time with Emrys, I was starting to notice more.
Then there was this feeling, this creeping, altering feeling that we were being followed by them. I realized as we traveled, that this- this feeling, these snakes, this may have happened before. The occurrences had only happened at night, and when I was much farther from that perimeter my father had established, which made me question more things.
My men insisted on bringing up Guin, My Love, which had made my lack of words grow. She was something I did not was to discuss with anyone, yet the men insisted on my honesty of our physical relationship before it would be accepted during commencement, and I made sure to silence them with my respected action towards the beautiful woman. They soon believed I was waiting until commencement for her honor, something I had told Guinevere times before when I felt things between us shifting down that path.
I would tell all who asked, just that, and yet I knew not of what I would do when that time finally arrived. When honor was no longer a worthy reason.
When not pleasing her would be considered dishonorable .
“We’re nearing, yes?” Bedivere asked, as we past through the last homes of this smaller cluster of a town. It had been some time since I last traveled through, and the current state of things left me hollow. Things had grown worst for its people- my people. We past very few on our walk, yet I suspected many were tucked away in their homes, their breathes held as they decided whether we were here for any of them. And my men felt this too, glancing around before drawing their eyes back to me, but I simply shook my head.
We could not voice our thoughts so openly here.
“Yes, just down this path through there” I gestured to the clear opening we were nearing that eventually led to a large cottage, separated from those in the town we passed. Why the councilman chose this home was unbeknownst to I, however he maintained his work with my father, so King Uther took no issue of the distance.
The very first thing I noticed was that this was the only home on this side of Camelot’s border with tough terrain where some grass still grew. As we approached, it was Lancelot who made it to the home first to knock on the bold, thick wooden door with a broad arch above it. And after three knocks, we all awaited someone’s arrival at the door… but no one came.
“What do we do, sire?” Bedivere asked, yet I recalled the words of Emrys in that moment.
In that home, you will find the old man and his wife to be dead. Their two children will be resting, unaware of such devastation…
“Let us check around to the back of the home, I believe there may be a rear entrance.” I found myself replying, leading my men around the stone built cottage as we continued past the side towards the rear. This side of the home was facing a field that stretched far out, further indicating the more rich, plentiful state of this house as opposed to those that led us here.
As I suspected, there was an entrance on this side, one which Bedivere approached, reaching his arm out to try for the handle, and he found no issue opening it. Both Lancelot and myself took hesitant steps, following Bedivere inside. The room we first entered through was filled with crates that looked as if they hadn’t been touched in quite some time. I turned my head, noticing the shelves that lined the wall, and taking note of what Emrys had told me.
Do not draw any attention to it , I reminded myself, before following my men further inside the dimly lit interior. As we passed through the arch that connected this room, it did not take us long to find what my men may have suspected, yet what I dreaded coming upon.
There were two slumped over bodies sitting at the small dining- a man and a woman- with a barely touched bowl of dinner next to each.
“Shit!” Lancelot hissed, his feet carrying him far more quickly as he went to check for any signs of them still being alive, a pulse on their wrist or on their neck, but he found none, his head lifting to us before he slowly shook it side to side.
“What of the children?” Bedivere asked quickly to which Lancelot turned, looking on down the dark corridor. No further words were passed between me and my men, our boots were only heard on the wooden floors while we continued our search, keeping our steps rather slow as if we all shared the same dreadful thought.
The first wooden door on our right was the one Lancelot opened, yet as he slowly veered his head inside, he soon turned to us, shaking it slowly again. “Empty,” he spoke.
Bedivere took a few steps further, reaching for the middle handle and pushing the door in, yet we watched as his body stilled a moment. “In here!” he then called, rushing into the room, and our feet quickly moved us with the same urgency as his voice.
The room was dark, the curtains drawn much like the rest of the windows in this home were, yet we could just make out two small beds with the sheets pulled up, covering two lumps. Lancelot went quickly to the first bed, drawing the sheet back just as Bedivere rushed to the second and did the same.
And what we all found were two children. Their light stirring caused my men and I to release a deep breath, a sigh of relief that we had found the little ones alive.
They were soundly asleep… just as he had said they would be.
••
Chapter Six: The Weakness Of This Vessel
Emrys
I watched from the nearest tree facing the side of the home, still managing to cloak myself with this amulet, as the prince and his men entered the cottage, waiting patiently for what they would soon discover.
I could feel once the door located at the end had been opened, yet it remained open as the men traveled in. There were no cries coming from within, only silence, but I knew it would not take long before the bodies would first be discovered- the councilman and his wife. And I waited patiently, ignoring the cries from my stomach as I remained behind this tree still hidden. I only needed to confirm their departure from the home, then I would take my leave to appease the hunger of this vessel.
It took some time, yet finally, both knights emerged from the back of the cottage with children in their arms. The small boy and girl were still fast asleep, bundled up into the metal of the knight’s armor, and the men moved quickly on their feet as they departed from the cottage.
I had wanted to remain here until I confirmed Arthur had made it out himself, yet I followed the knights a short distance, hidden by the forest as I confirmed the children were in health. The spell I cast would grant sleep until the following nightfall, however it was always a more delicate practice with the young. And if I were to bear honesty with myself, it had been some time since I had used such magick on a child.
As I followed these men, one of my companions joined me, slithering up my leg, torso, and chest, before wrapping itself around my arm, the chilling feeling of its scaled skin bringing me comfort. It was warning me of my hunger, but I chose to ignore that warning. Something I would find myself regretting awfully soon.
I had only followed them some steps ahead, but once I was assured that the magick hadn’t harmed either child, I decided I couldn’t take myself further. I still needed the assurance that Arthur had left the home himself, then I needed to attend to this hunger. It was starting to consume this body of mine, altering my magick at its core.
My feet turned to take me back, however I barely made a full turn before my entire being stilled.
“ Emrys .“ Arthur spoke a few steps away, his arms crossed tightly across that shiny metal chest plate of his. And his gaze was completely fixated on what little he could see beneath this lifted hood.
I hadn’t heard him approach. Those thick boots of his should’ve made his steps rather present to my sensitive ears, his clanking armor giving away his position… but then I had yet another startling realization…
He could see me .
My hand immediately reached up from under this thick material for the amulet tucked under my black cloak and hanging from my neck, yet I knew the answer to my weakened magick before I felt its dulled touch.
This vessel had gone too long without food.
“Arthur,” I more or less whispered, working to steady myself now as my body rearranged the the release of what little energy I had left. I was trying to conserve the last of it, and but I felt my body growing lighter, my head feeling less… coherent. The snake that had joined me as I watched the knights carry away those children, prodded at my arm again, further sensing my drastically weakening state.
“I was correct with my assumptions then. You were watching me.” Arthur spoke, his steps drawing him nearer to me now, with the forest surrounding us both. My hood remained lifted, cloaking most of me, yet I felt as if he could see through the tightly woven material as he took another step. “How long have you done that for? Watching me? This feeling is rather familiar.”
I knew words were passing from his lips, and but my mind was far too preoccupied on straightening itself. I had overestimated the stretch of how long this vessel could be pulled with my magick. “Arthur,” I started, though my head grew lighter. This was it , I thought to myself. I had finally found the limits to this vessel. I attempted a step forward yet it was none near stable…
And the last thing I recalled before my vision finally left me, was this vessel losing to the instability.
When I awoke again, I could feel soft, thin, yet padded material beneath me. It took some time for myself to adjust to the warm, dim lighting of my surroundings… yet it was the scent that filled the air in this room which made my body jolt itself fully awake.
I tried to quickly pull myself up into a sitting position as my eyes adjusted. I was back in the old cottage, yet it was not the dark, cold cottage I had grown accustomed to these last four days.
To my left, the fireplace was burning with a kettle hung from iron rods above the flames inside. On the chair nearest some steps away, lay a pile of metal armor with a cape- the scarlet red royal cape with the golden crest of the pendragons hanging against the back rest, I shifted my gaze from the living area to the kichene to find a man standing at the counter with his back to me, chopping something. his broad shoulders were covered by a flowing white undershirt with its sleeves rolled up to the man’s forearms. He was still in the thick black trousers once covered by the metal thigh and shin protectors.
“A-Arthur?” I whispered quietly as my hands lifted to my head, massaging the temples to ease the grogginess of sleep.
He turned to me quickly. “You’ve awoken,” he spoke. In his hand was a wooden chopping board with a mixture of vegetables and herbs, which he fully turned and walked towards the fire to scrape into the pot that bubbled above the flames.
“What…” I started, straightening myself up further. My senses were still dulled, but the first thing I forced my body to release some magick for, was to locate my companions. I could feel them all gathered just outside the cottage, waiting. “What… what is it that you are doing?”
Arthur set the now cleared wooden board onto the small dining table before turning to face me, his tall build leaning back against the table itself carefully, sensing its lack of strength for the man’s weight. “When was the last time you’ve eaten anything?” He asked me in that rough yet direct voice of his. I remained silent as my gaze moved from his to the counter in the kichene. There were now the remnants of vegetables and herbs that had been chopped, and the feathers of some sort of bird that had been plucked, all next to two bowls. “Was it before we arrived in Camelot? You hadn’t eaten on our journey back… and that fireplace has not been used since I brought you here. In total, it has been seven days.”
“It…” I found words conjuring as I decided to come to my own defense with his accusatorial tone. “I have been preoccupied.”
Arthur scoffed, pushing himself away from the table now to walk back into the kichene. He picked up the two bowls and traveled back into the living space to set one bowl on the table. With the other, he moved towards the fire, picking up the ladle nestled inside the pot and stirring its contents before he scooped a large serving and poured it into the ceramic bowl. Then he turned and stalked towards me.
“Here,” I heard him say, his eyes finding mine as he held out the filled bowl for me to take. I still wore my cloak, but the hood had long since fallen back onto my shoulders, giving us both the most clear view of each other. And while I wanted to deny it, my stomach wasted not a moment roaring to life again, reminding me of my irresponsibility with my limits. Instead, my hand reached up past my cloak and I took it.
There was a spoon already inside, and when the steam from the stew brought with it the aroma from the ingredients, I couldn’t help myself. I started eating immediately, not waiting for the liquid to cool. The bird he had hunted was a turkey, I noticed the taste of the meat, and it complimented the stew so well I was surprised by just how delicious this was. I took spoonful by spoonful, not caring for how intently the man was staring at me now.
“Decent?” He asked me a moment later. I gave him one short, courteous nod as I chewed, refusing to meet those light eyes of his with mine. I could feel this vessel’s energy returning, sustaining the magick that could course through it once more.
Satisfied with my answer, Arthur moved for the second bowl to presumably pour some for him himself. What I hadn’t expected, was for him to then take a seat beside me on the thin material of this mattress. After his own first spoonful, he nodded to himself in approval.
Then we sat quietly next to each other, eating.
I hadn’t felt any bruising on this body, and considering I bore no energy to heal myself if I had gotten injured, I was led to believe that my body hadn’t hit the forest floor. It also meant that this man had surely carried me back here, and that forced the hand scooping spoonfuls from this ceramic bowl to my lips, to slow.
“You must leave this place,” I started quickly, glancing out through the curtain drawn window to our right with worry. How long had Arthur been from the castle?
What of the children? The councilmen and his wife?
“I returned to the castle first after bringing you here,” Arthur replied, surely hearing my alarmed thoughts. “The men have gathered the bodied from the home after returning the children safely to a cottage near the castle where they are being cared for. I took leave upon alerting my father of my whereabouts, that I would be taking my horse out to stretch its legs since I had not earlier with my men.” Arthur turned slightly to me now. “Thanks to your… companions , my horse has been tied off some distance from here to keep him from fearing the snakes that have gathered just outside this old cottage.”
My gaze shifted to him quickly. “Did any of them-”
“No,” Arthur shook his head quickly. “There was a… close encounter, yet I believe they trusted I would care for you. That I would not bring you any harm.”
I thought about that a moment. My companions were intelligent enough to know that my well being was directly tied to their own. They could not feed from me in this state.
And so, I gave Arthur an additional short nod before returning to this stew. He, however, was not quite done with talking as I was.
“How long have you been watching me?” He asked, causing me to choke slightly on the food, its contents temporarily lodging themselves into my throat.
“As I have explained-”
“-You did not explain-”
“- As I have explained , it was only to assure that things went as according to plan. Did you see the loosened stone I spoke of in the rear room, the one used for shelter?” This was what he and I really should be discussing if we were to discuss anything at all, I thought to myself.
“Yes,” Arthur nodded, before he brought another spoon of stew to his lips and chewed. “I found it well.”
“Good,” I nodded. “Very good.” I took a few more spoonfuls myself as I sat with thoughts next to this man who had truly taken a seat on this small bed far closer than necessary, with our shoulders almost brushing against each other as we ate. He was only this close because I was without my companions, that I was sure of. “How are things with growing nearer to your father? Gaining his trust?”
“It is successful as of now. I am to return to speak to him of the coming days. Of The Hunt that is to come in less than a moon, and the-”
Arthur cut those words short quickly.
“And the what?” I asked, turning to him once more, yet he did not meet my gaze.
“I am… I am to wed. In a fortnight.”
“Guinevere,” I spoke, forcing his light eyes to mine now. “She is a good fit. A proper, beautiful woman.”
Arthur simply looked at me a moment, not saying anything as I turned back to my bowl. The stew was now almost finished. “You find her to be beautiful?” He asked me. My eyebrows furrowed slightly at such an odd question.
“I believe all do,” I responded, to which Arthur finally drew attention to his own bowl again, clearing the last of the smaller serving he had poured for himself.
“I… I should take my leave then,” He spoke as he stood finally. “The sun is starting to set. My father will question the time I am keeping.”
I nodded, watching as the man walked his bowl to the dining table before he reached for the armor that he had removed and set on that chair. We both remained quiet as he dressed quickly, with me taking the last bits from this bowl. As he moved towards the old wooden door, I stopped him a moment. “Arthur?” I called, forcing him to turn.
“Yes?” He replied.
“Do not return here until that flower is placed in that home. Understood?”
Arthur stood there near the door, holding my gaze before he eventually nodded. Then he reached for the handle and opened the front, jumping back quickly as several serpents slithered in right past his feet towards me. I set the bowl I was holding on the ground near the bed, welcoming them. They did not bear well with any distance between us while I was in this realm, and surely, they were concerned for the weakness that overtook this vessel.
“I will see you then,” Arthur spoke, turning to me one final time, to which I simply nodded.
I returned to that burning fire for a second and third serving. Arthur had made enough for it, and when my stomach felt content, I allowed the fire to dwindle on its own. My companions moved freely through the cottage, seemingly unaffected by the warmth and dim light that had taken the space once so dark and cold.
I could feel their judgement of allowing such a man in this place with me during such moments of weakness, yet they knew I had no other choice. I hadn’t been strong enough to stand let alone scavenge or hunt. What Arthur had done had made it possible for them to feed from me tonight. For us to gain energy for what was to come.
••
Chapter Seven: We Are To Honor Tradition
Arthur
I laid awake now, sleep not finding me with any amount of ease.
It couldn’t.
Thoughts were stirring in this head of mine, and they were thoughts I had struggled all evening to fully banish. They were not right thoughts. They were not thoughts I should have had…. especially not for a man betrothed to another. A woman, no less.
I recalled my actions in that forest once again, and what I had chosen to do for Emrys…
“Emrys!” I called, catching him before his body could collapse to the forest floor and pulling him into the metal of my chest plate.
He had… he had fainted. I felt his body limp against my own as I forced myself to hold the weight of him.
My right arm slid under the rest of his lower half before I picked him up completely, bringing him the tightest against me I possibly could without my metal armor crushing him, yet my whole body stilled when I saw movement under his cloak.
Sure enough, the head of a black serpent peeked its way out of the neck collar of Emrys’s cloak, and though my immediate response to this should have been to drop the man, keeping my own safety in regard, I couldn’t will myself to. I watched as this serpent slid further up past that collar as Emrys’s hood fell back to reveal his face. His eyes were closed to me, however the serpent’s burning yellow eyes held mine in an almost trance.
One bite, and I would be dead. One bite. That was all it would take.
“I am going to help him,” I whispered to the serpent whose eyes remained fixed on my own. “I am not going to harm him. I’m bringing him back to his place of rest.”
There were many strange things I had done during the stretch of my life, but this, talking to a serpent as I pleaded for both mine and its master’s life, was by far the most bizarre. What had surprised me even further was that the serpent seemed to understand. It slid itself out the rest of the way from Emrys’s cloak and dropped itself to the ground, yet it waited there, remaining patient.
It was only as I started to walk both I and this man in my arms back to the cottage, did I realize that it was following me, slithering against the forest floor. And as I walked, I was joined by more creatures traveling across the dirt, keeping close to my feet to ensure their master’s safe return.
I had to move quickly from fear of many things in addition to being bitten. I knew I would not be able to stay with Emrys. I would need to return to the castle, confirm that the children had made it there safe with Bedivere and Lancelot, then I would need to report to my father… yet as I made more than a few unnecessary glances down at Emrys- at his sharp features still resting against me as I held him even closer- I was already working to conjure an excuse that would bring me back to him.
After I reached that cottage some time later still on foot and entered through the old tattered wooden door, I brought Emrys to small bed located in the back corner of the quaint home. His companions were quick to surround him, their bodies slithering up the posts of the bed before tucking themselves under his thick, black cloak.
“I will return,” I told both them, and the resting man quietly before I took my leave.
And I had , I thought now as I lay in bed this late into the night. I had returned.
Upon reaching the castle, I had found both knights with my father in the throne room, alerting him to what we had found, and that they had brought the children to another council member near here. Then they soon took their leave, leaving my father and I speak alone but giving me one firm nod to which I returned as a thank you before they had exited the throne room.
“ You have done well, Arthur, “ my father had told me as he shifted in his throne. “It saddens me to hear of Councilman Blackenwell and his wife, but our concerns must lie with his children, and discovering what could have happened. “ I had given my father a nod. “ The bodies will be removed by nightfall, though Lancelot believes they may have eaten from something poisonous, for they found them sitting at the dining table with what was very well supper. We will know more come dawn .”
I had given my father another nod. “ The men and I have remained on foot for some time today .“ It was then well past high noon, with the setting of the sun just on the horizon. If I were to have asked my father what I was about to then, that would’ve been my last opportunity. “ I wish to take my horse out for a short time. To stretch his legs. He will need the exercise as we approach The Hunt. “
I had expected my father to have had more words for me then, yet I could see his troubling nature etched into the man’s older features. He did not take kindly to the news of Blackenwell, one of his most loyal Councilmen. “ Very well ,“ was all he had said, dismissing me freely.
I then made my way quickly towards the stables, grateful that I had not seen neither Morgana nor Guin for they would have only delayed me further, and as soon as I had my horse saddled, I set out again with a few weapons to hunt with.
The forest was plentiful with prey, yet I knew not how long Emrys had. How long he may have taken between his meals. I could hear the howling of his stomach as I carried him to the cottage earlier, which had led me to believe that it was far longer than any man could.
After acquiring myself a turkey with the bow I had taken from the stables, and gathering what fresh vegetables I could that were safe for eating, I then tied my horse off a safe distance from the old cottage, and took the path I knew all too well. With how many snakes had followed me there as I carried Emrys, I had known that the large animal would have a fright if he bore witness to them. And as I then pushed the door to the entrance of the small cottage once more with the dead bird and gathered vegetables in hand, I had been correct.
Those serpents slid past me through that door quickly, maneuvering around the perimeter of the home as they chose not to stray far. I had closed the door once I was sure the last had left this place, and set all items onto the counter in the kichene that I was used to using from time to time during my hunts. Then I had went to check on Emrys.
He had been right where I had laid him down last, resting on the thin mattress on his back with his eyes still closed. I had seen no movement under that cloak then, which left me thinking it was safe enough to approach.
As I drew nearer to the sorcerer, I took in the features that I had no time to before during our walk there. He had… he had looked so at peace, resting like that. Once at the side ledge of the bed, my right arm extended itself while I bent lower to first check the temperature of his forehead, yet it did not feel hot to touch. I had believed it to be really just hunger, which was confirmed when I then heard his stomach rumble once again.
I… I did not remove the back of my hand from his skin, however.
That was what I should have done.
After checking the man’s temperature, I should have retracted that arm… and yet I studied his features instead.
He was handsome. Unfathomably so, and yet I saw such little of him behind the hood of that cloak the moments we had spent together. It wasn’t like when we were in that forest at the edge of this realm. In that cottage then, however, I… I saw it all. My hand had moved slowly, gently tracing the edge of his temple before feeling tenderly grazing it down the side of his face, his soft skin brushing against the tips of my fingers. Then those very fingers pushed the few strands of that fiery red hair which had fallen towards his pale complexion, further back.
And that was when I had felt something I shouldn’t- my heart stir. My heart beat had been making a mockery of my duties- of what I knew to be right and knew to be wrong, and I soon quickly pulled my hand away before I could take it further…
“ You are a fool ,“ I whispered to myself quietly now, pulling my arm from under my thick bed cover to look at my fingers in the dim lighting of my chamber.
I knew what was right.
I knew what was wrong.
And yet… I still acted on the latter. I still touched him though I knew that to be more than just wrong.
“ You are betrothed ,“ I whispered again to none else but myself. “To Guinevere .”
And yet… the feeling of his skin beneath me- those sharp yet eased features of his as he rested.
The thought of him having spent the day following- watching me. The simple fact that I just knew that this day was not the first that he had done so.
Those thoughts caused my heart to beat quicker now. So much so, I pushed my head further back into the pillow that supported it, begging the damned thing to slow. Emrys and I had our duties. I had my Kingdom to think of. I had my betrothed to think of.
However much as I willed it not to, only that single moment with him now occupied every crevice of every space in my mind.
So much so that I found myself doing something rather abruptly, as I sat up in my bed and pushed the covers away. My hand reached for the shirt draped across the foot board at the edge of the bed, and I quickly slipped that on before pushing my feet into slippers used right before slumber.
I pulled open my chamber door and ventured out into the dimly lit hall of the castle, taking those few steps from my chamber to one I had barely ever entered before. It took not even three light knocks before the chamber doors were opened to find the most beautiful woman in the most beautiful white nightgown staring up at me. Her braids were braided back in one large braid for nighttime, as she preferred, her face barren of any makeup. She asked quietly “Arthur?”
No moment was wasted before I bent down, my hand reaching up to cup her face as I held her still and kissed her.
It was a slow, gentle kiss, one her full lips welcomed as she kissed me back, yet I pulled away before she could ask for more of this… or me. Yet she still asked.
“W-Would you… would you like to come in?”
I slowly shook my head no, taking in the beauty of her rich dark skin only illuminated by the little light from her bedroom.
“We are to honor the tradition,” my voice was low, making sure not to wake Morgana, though I assumed she was fast asleep by now.
“M-Many… many do,” She whispered back quietly. Hesitantly. I could see it in her eyes- the want . She wanted more from me.
Many men- and women- have certain… urges.
This was what Sir Bedivere had said this day, but-
“We are not many .” I spoke to her quietly as my words held a sense of finality to them. I saw disappointment in her features, yet she nodded, accepting the traditions. “I will see you come daybreak,” I added, to which the young woman nodded, allowing me to leave her at the entrance of her chamber so I could return to mine.
And as I removed the shirt I had slipped on, kicked off the slippers, and climbed back into my bed, I soon found sleep with one startling revelation weighing heavily on my mind…
That kiss… it did nothing to banish the lingering of Emrys’s soft skin on my fingers.
When I awoke, I dressed quickly before leaving my chamber and making my way towards the dining hall to join my father. Emrys’s words were all I could think of.
Do not return until that flower is placed in that home.
I had to continue my work with drawing nearer to my father. There was less than a moon now until The Hunt, then The Reckoning, leaving us all little time to kill my father, and less to both convince his continuants of standing down. After his passing, this nation would enter a period of mourning, which would hopefully postpone The Hunt enough to allow me time to get our court in order.
Emrys truly did not understand how little time there was, and yet-
The Councilman , I reminded myself. I could not see what exactly this druid had in place, but the man was moving quickly. He was making decisions without my consent, and yet I knew I held no weight to dictate those choices. He had assured me he could kill King Uther, which meant I had to trust his judgement. His decisions.
I glanced down at my hand a moment as I moved quickly- at the fingers that had grazed the side of his face. Regardless of how terribly I tried, and for such a simple moment at that, it invaded almost all of my thoughts. The only sliver of space it left, was for myself to think on what else I could offer to please my father. What else would bring me closer to that room, and the flower I desired inside it.
My feet soon slowed as I approached the entrance to the dining hall, yet I noticed the door was open, something rather strange. My father was sitting at the head of the long, sturdy wooden table, taking his breakfast, yet there was a plate of food and a glass of water placed on said table adjacent to him. “Father?” I called, waiting at the entrance still for his word.
“Come,” he gestured to me without turning to his side. “And close the door behind you.”
And so I did what I was told, entering before closing the heavy door- closing my father and I off from the rest of the castle. Then my feet carried me to the seat adjacent to my father, and I sat down beside him. My father had ordered the same meal for this morning that we had shared together the morning before, yet that troubled me none. The meal was delicious and well filling, enough so that it carried me through the late afternoon until I had made a meal of my own for Emrys.
I wondered whether he had eaten more. I still did not quite understand how he had made it that long without anything.
“It brings me joy for you to join me once again,” My father spoke. I noticed his attire immediately, the black long sleeved shirt partially covered by the black floor length, high collared coat and paired with black trousers. He would be entering the mourning period with the Councilmen. “Especially now,” my father added.
“Should I change?” I asked him, gesturing to the plain clothes I had selected while still partially asleep.
“No,” my father spoke quickly, “the Councilmen and I will lay Councilman Blackenwell to rest this morning alongside his wife. I will be departing from the castle for such things since his request in light of death was to be buried near the hills far west of the forest. If I am to leave this castle, you must remain.”
I gave my father a nod, waiting for his direction. It took him a moment to realize before he gestured to me with his hand, allowing me to start eating. This was very unlike my father… all of what I had seen this morning thus far was very unlike him, yet I reminded myself of the mourning he was under.
“Is there something I can do for you?” I asked him, “In light of your journey?”
That made my father slow from eating more of his breakfast to look up at me. “Yes,” he nodded slowly, offering me a slight smile. “We are to prepare for The Hunt as you surely know.”
I gave him a nod myself. “Would you request I plan for mapping for it? You know how well I know the terrain-”
“No,” my father’s voice cut in as he shook his head. “I would like for you to plan what is to come after.”
My eyebrows furrowed slightly. “The Commemoration Dinner?” I asked, referring to the celebration we were to hold in our guest hall, one where all prominent men and women would gather after The Hunt to celebrate those who both participated, and traveled a great distance to observe. A feast of sorts, one flowing with food, wine, and music. It was our most expensive gathering, yet it kept us in good graces with neighboring towns far past the distance my father often felt safe traveling to. It allowed the people of Britain, those strong enough to participate, to see and greet their King.
“No,” my father shook his head again. “The Reckoning.”
His words caused my hands to still on its way to bring this fork to my mouth. “The… The Reckoning.”
“Yes,” My father offered one short nod before he took a bite from his own eggs. “I want you to map the journey of our men across Britain. It was a task I was to do, but now…” My father’s voiced trailed off again, and I was forced to take this bite I now didn’t quite feel like eating. “Can I entrust that with you?” He asked me.
“Yes,” I replied, my body tightening to keep my voice level. I dare not show him even a moment of disdain nor disgust. “You can entrust this with me. I will have it done by the next nightfall.”
My father looked to me a moment before he soon gave me one startlingly genuine, honest smile. “You make me more and more proud each day,” He told me a little more gently than his usual deep, rough tone, yet once he cleared his throat and returned his attention to his plate, I knew that moment shared was done. “I will do my best to return by then- by the next nightfall. This journey is a long one, yet I trust you will keep things in order here. I will be taking many guards with me… but there is none in all the land more skilled with protecting this castle than my own son.”
My eyes cast up from my plate to my father quickly, my gaze soon meeting his… and I couldn’t help the edges of my lips from twitching up into a smile. His words were genuine- the most genuine I had ever heard them. And his own lips soon turned up into a slight smile of his own.
“If anything is to arise in my absence, you send word for me so I may start my journey back. Understood?”
“Yes, father,” I nodded quickly.
He seemed satisfied with that reply.
••
Chapter Eight: Earn His Trust
Arthur
My goodbye to my father was fairly brief.
It was Morgana who took her time with her dramatics.
“I won’t be long,” our father assured her.
“But you were to teach me to play the violin,” she whined slightly, working to mask the real despair growing within her, yet she dared not move from her post beside me as my father finished fastening his armor.
“And I will, once I return,” my father promised, his face hardening at Morgana’s protests, yet not fully.
Morgana was the only one in this castle who my father would listen to such persistent whining from. Not with glee, of course, yet it meant something that he would still listen. And I was sure that this was the reason she had a flair of disobedience to her. He kept her shielded from most of his brutality, and he had once kept me in that same darkness before I became of age to start taking my duties seriously in preparation for inheriting the throne. She knew not of the horrors our father had inflicted, and could inflict. The nights of the hangings, my father would tell her a story, one being that those who saw the noose had committed acts of bribery and thievery.
She did not understand that the bodies which hung some steps away from the castle were that of the innocent.
And perhaps my father and I shared in that- the inability to take from her such innocence.
This castle would be nothing but a prison without her youthful, playful spirit.
“I trust Morgana in your care, Prince Arthur,” my father then spoke, shifting his gaze from the woman on my arm to me. I gave him one firm nod. “And upon my return, we will then begin preparations for your wedding.” I forced a smile, giving my father another direct nod as he sheathed his large, perfectly balanced sword. “Very well then. I will be seeing you.”
And those were his last words to his children. My father was never one for hugs or anything of that nature so I had expected that formal goodbye, but Morgana’s hold on my arm simply tightened.
She had expected more. She would always expect more.
Whilst Morgana found something to keep herself busy with, I was left to my fathers study to finish what he started.
To map the journey for The Reckoning.
The entire thing made my stomach turn with undiluted disgust, yet I held the instructions of Emrys close to me. I was to enter the mind of my father, however maddening it was, to think as he would. I sat in his large chair, staring at the drawn map of Britain, starting with our journey at the castle. There were towns my father’s men had already heavily patrolled within Camelot, and so I looked past the inner walls of home.
As I began to map a journey through the forest, I heard a knock on the closed door.
“Enter,” I spoke, yet I dared not set this quill down. I would be working through the night to complete this not only in a timely manner, but with enough thought to impress my father. I loathed the task set before me, yet I knew of its importance. I knew what I was really working towards by doing so.
“Seeing you in your father’s chair, at your father’s desk, brings me hope.” Gisela spoke. My eyes lifted to hers as she entered with a cup of tea in her hand.
“Thank you, Gisela,” I smiled as she set my requested refreshment down. “Though the work asked of me is that of horrors, the sorcerer has requested something of me, too, and this is the most direct path to it.”
“May I ask what?” The older woman spoke, taking a seat across from me.
“For your safety, I will not answer,” I replied, coaxing yet another smile from the old woman. I could see the tension had eased from her with my father being gone. I could feel the shift within the castle and its stone walls- the collective sigh the servants took as he passed through the front doors.
“You protect me well,” She noted, yet I just chuckled as I returned to the work at hand.
“What is to come will be from your guidance. We haven’t yet a chance to speak of the sorcerer I sought out. You had not mentioned that he is- well that he-”
“He is what?” Gisela asked with some curiosity laced into her tone.
“That he is… young.” And the soft humming sound Gisela made at that, made my gaze shift up to her. “Did… did you not know, then?”
“I have not laid eyes upon him myself. I had believed he would return with you in the state I saw him in during my vision. As a serpent.”
That finally made me set my pen down a moment. “Has… has anyone seen The Serpent King? As a person- as a man?” Gisela slowly shook her head no.
“Not in this realm at the very least. Perhaps in the others, where it would be more safe for him.”
“Interesting,” I replied quietly. “Very interesting.”
“He has shown you a face, then?” Gisela asked me, to which I nodded. “That is interesting. I did not believe for him to trust you, given you are the son of Uther Pendragon.”
“Well, for the reasons I sought him out, I would be hung.” I reminded the older woman, to which she nodded her head in agreeance.
“Do you know what he has planned for your father?” She asked me, yet I shook my head no.
“I only wish it be quick,” I replied, yet I did not add what else I was thinking.
And painless.
It was not fitting for the monster my father was.
I wanted to show him an ounce of mercy for none other reason than that he was my father.
And I knew that was wrong. My father deserved to answer for his crimes against all he killed.
“What does the sorcerer look like? His face?” Gisela asked, interrupting my thoughts.
“He… he looks…” I glanced down at the hand that once held the quill, recalling the time it had once touched something else. “He…”
“I understand, Your Highness.” Gisela spoke quietly, forcing my eyes up to her again, yet her gaze only met mine a moment before she diverted it elsewhere. “Handsome, yes?”
I did not answer her with my words once she gained the courage to look at me again. I simply nodded.
“What did he want in return for his assistance?” Gisela then asked. It seemed neither of us was willing to dwell on his appearance any longer. “Surely he wanted something in return.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “His wish is to rule beside me-” Gisela’s eyebrows raised greatly, “-in the shadows,” I clarified. I knew this old woman’s heart. She blessed this marriage between Guinevere and I just as greatly as my father, and so I did best not to disrespect her wishes for me and my future. “His only ask is to rebuild this land for his people to exist in- an ask I will willingly grant as atonement for all the blood spilt in Camelot. All the blood my father wishes to spill beyond Camelot’s borders.”
Gisela pondered on those words a moment. “That is interesting. I do support your acceptance for this trade, however. You have done well with your work.”
“Thank you,” I replied to her with a smile. “Now as I enjoy every moment we spend together, the moments we may speak freely, I really must return to this work. If I fail my father with this endeavor, my efforts will regress.”
“I understand, Your Highness. I shall take my leave.” Gisela replied, standing from that chair before she showed herself out and closed the door behind her.
I had worked through the night on this mapping. Time was but a distant feeling to me, so much so that I hadn’t heard a knock on the door until Guinevere slipped past it, letting herself in.
“Hello, My Love,” I spoke, smiling at her beauty as she visited me in her nightgown. In her hand was a plate of cut fruit.
“Hello, My Love,” she returned with a smile of her own as she approached. “It is late. You should find rest soon, this work will be here for you when you return.” I heard the sound of the ceramic plate as she set it down on the wooden desk near this map.
“I need this to be perfect,” I told my betrothed.
“And it will be,” she replied quickly, placing her hand gently over mine. I felt the quill slip from my fingers at the gesture as I looked up at her. She leaned against the wooden desk. “And if you return to your chambers… perhaps I have a chance for you to visit me again at mine… like the night before?”
I mustered the best smile I could, yet my exhaustion was starting to seep through the cracks in it. “I really must work, Guin,” I told her quietly, feeling as she started to move her hand away, but my hand caught it before she could pull away completely. “But after this is all done, you will have me. We are to wed soon, is that not right?” Guinevere gave me one genuine smile. “It won’t be long before my heart is yours.” I assured her.
This answer seemed to be enough to please my betrothed. She bent down slightly to place a gentle kiss on my forehead before taking her leave, leaving me to my work.
Somewhere through the night, I fell asleep in this very chair. It was Gisela who awoke me in the early hours of the morning, served me my breakfast here in this study, then insisted I return to my chamber for some honest rest. And so I did. I abandoned the work here in my study and found my way back to my bed.
I slept for as long as I could before washing up and returning to the study again. Guinevere wouldn’t approve, but I only had such little time left before my father was to return, and while I took all my duties seriously, I assured my betrothed that this amount of work was necessary. I dare not tell her why. The only person who could and should know my true intentions was Emrys. It was safest this way.
And I was happy I had done such a thing, for my father returned from his journey shortly after the sun had set. The sound of the horses were heard just outside the palace walls.
I quickly made my way out of his study towards the entrance of this castle to greet him, but Morgana was already there waiting, shuffling anxiously on the balls of her feet. At least she was wearing shoes , I thought to myself. The wear in the faces of the guards who first entered had told me all I needed- this journey had been one exhausting one. And there was that same worn look on my father’s face as he entered through the large front doors of the castle.
“Father!” Morgana called with excitement, yet she remained dutifully at my side as the servants to the castle quickly took the armor he had stripped from himself, before taking those few steps forward to greet us. He first did something rather surprising, which was bend down slightly to place a kiss upon Morgana’s head, and once he straightened himself out, I felt his strong arm come down heavily on my shoulder.
“I am happy to return. Now come, Arthur, share with me the task I have left you with.”
I gave my father a firm nod as we made our way out of the front entrance, guiding him to the very room I had spent far too long in, it practically made my stomach turn at the thought of entering once more. Potentially disappointing my father had only made this sunken feeling worse.
“You’ve surely spent a great deal here,” my father noted as we entered. I had no way of knowing just how he could sense that considering I had left everything in its pristine order, yet I had grown to accept this with my father. There were parts of him more touched by intellect than madness.
“I did not take the task at hand lightly, father,” was all I replied with as I stepped aside to watch as my father took his seat in the large wooden chair of his desk. I took the seat across from him, noticing as even more wrinkles formed on my father’s aged face as he smiled slightly, reviewing the work I had done.
“You studied the other maps drawn, did you not?”
“Yes, father,” I replied, “there is territory I have not yet journeyed to- I took into account the rough terrain for the men, the routes not possible for the horses-” my father raised his hand, silencing me, yet his eyes remained on the intricately drawn map. And so I remained silent myself, allowing my father time.
And time surely was something he took. We remained seated here for what felt like an eternity had passed. My heart was beating hard against the cavity of my chest, with my mind simply spinning in on itself, questioning if this work had been for nothing. After some time later, my father nodded to himself, before standing abruptly. “Come with me,” he spoke, forcing me to my feet immediately to follow him.
I said nothing as I followed him out of the study. My words were kept to myself, I only fixed my gaze on the back of my father’s head, allowing him to guide me up the stairs towards the back of the castle, where his chamber was located, and once he opened the door to it, he stepped aside to allow me in before he closed and locked it behind him. I assumed that he had brought us here to discuss my work in private, more private than his study would allow, yet I watched as he moved towards the the back corner of his armoire, near his bed.
“Come… son,” he gestured, calling me over as he opened the two doors to the large armoire. I was… uncertain of what he meant… but once my father stepped into his armoire, my feet quickly carried me towards him. I felt my eyebrows raise as my father pushed past some hung clothing to reveal a wooden door behind it, opening it for me to walk through first.
And I believe I finally understood it now. My work had pleased him. Greatly .
I followed through this door that opened to dimly lit stone stairs winding down. The light illuminating it was from the torches lit ablaze, lining the walls. My father entered closely behind me, and we both descended those steps. They carried us at least three floors down, a floor below our castle, until we reached yet another wooden door. This one was locked with a key hole, and I found myself stepping aside for my father whose hand reached into his white undershirt to pull from it the key he kept tucked inside.
My father bent down slightly to slide the metal key, before turning the lock, then he pulled the key out and pushed the door open, allowing me to enter first. I did not say a single word as I did, for the first to speak now had to be my father. I could not allow him to believe I knew this room ever existed.
“You have earned this,” my father spoke, stepping into the room behind me, but I could barely focus on neither him nor his words, all I could do was look around at the spacious room surrounding us. There were shelves everywhere, lining every wall available, along with crates, and items on crates, hell, items on the stone floor itself. I wasn’t sure I managed a single breath as my body slowly turned, taking in just how- just how full this room was. “This is the Treasury of the Pendragons. The most richest room you will ever step into.”
I was… I was simply at a loss for words.
Emrys had been right. My father would have never parted from that key around his neck. Not if it was… if it was protecting all of this .
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” My father asked, to which I finally turned back to him, nodding my head immediately. I hadn’t even known what I was fully looking at, yet I could almost feel the magick of what lay in here. I could sense its ancient nature. My father simply chuckled. “Take a look around. I am only here to grab some books then we will go, however I believe it was finally time you understood what true power the Pendragons hold. What wonders we have at our disposal to banish all magick from this land… with magick itself.”
I forced myself not to react to that admission… yet it released a startling realization within me.
Every relic here- everything that held powers beyond the means of man…
My father had stolen them.
This was… these weren’t items of the Pendragons. These belonged to the Druids of Britain.
And that was what steered myself back on course with what I was here for. As my father started to open crates, I began to analyze every item on every shelf, searching past chalices and amulets and weaponry as I moved through the room quickly. I wasn’t sure how much time I had left, though my father was moving slow from his long journey. It took perhaps six or seven shelves before I spotted something tucked away at the very back of one.
It was a wooden box, however the top of the box was opened up, revealing the top of some distinct pedals, yet as I reached forward and tried to remove the flower from it, I couldn’t. It felt like it was almost fastened to the box itself
“Arthur.”
I swiftly turned to my father, my fingers accidentally grazing the cover and shutting the box in the process. My father looked at me not a second after, yet luckily, my hand had gracefully moved to a different relic a few shelves over.
“Let us take leave, son,” My father sighed, “I am much too tired to show you the rest. I promise we will return here soon together.”
I gave my father a nod… for I was unable to do anything but.
I had missed my opportunity this night.
By the time I made it to bed, I was not sure what feelings could course through me besides immense disappointment. I was slow to get situated, regardless of how completely spent my body felt. I found myself staring up at the ceiling in complete and utter despair for longer than I should’ve, if I had plans to awaken early for breakfast with my father. I knew not when he would take me down there next… nor if , for that matter, though I knew him to still be proud of me. Perhaps I could leverage it.
And I tried to find sleep knowing that…
That was until I felt something on my leg that made my whole body jolt awake, my eyes snapping open as I pushed myself up to the back of the wooden headboard and pulled back the cover to reveal something that shouldn’t be.
Something that couldn’t be.
There was a black serpent in my bed above the sheets, staring up at me expectantly.
••
Chapter Nine: The Prince’s Return
Emrys
I opened the door for Arthur before he could raise his hand to knock.
And the first thing he did as he entered from the darkness of the night, was pull his arm out from inside his dark brown cloak and thrust it forward.
“Take this fucking thing off of me.”
I had to stifle a chuckle as my own arm reached past my cloak, and one of my companions separated itself from around Arthur to join the other wrapped around it, then I stepped aside for Arthur to enter.
The old, small cottage had warmth spreading through it again from the dinner I had cooked and eaten some time before. Before I had felt it.
The shield around that castle lifting.
“Why did you not visit me after placing the flower in the home?” I asked Arthur, watching as he pulled out and took a seat at the dining table. I could feel the man’s exhaustion from here, yet I saw it more closely as I closed the flimsy door and took the seat near the dwindling fire, which left me with questions I had every intention of having him answer.
“Because I did not,” Arthur sighed, pulling his hood back onto his shoulders to reveal just how sleep deprived the man really looked. “I did not move it from the treasury room… I missed the opportunity to.”
That made my eyebrows raise slightly. “Then how did my companion breach the entrance? How did it reach your father?”
“It reached my father?” Arthur asked suddenly, sitting up straighter in the unstable wooden chair.
“Yes. I was able to complete my work this night.” I replied.
“S-So… so my father is…”
“He is sick,” I clarified. “The illness my companion brought him will take a little time. This is to ensure all suspicion will be unwarranted. Your men will believe him to have fallen ill during his travel.” Arthur’s own lighter eyebrows raised slightly as he stared at what he could from the hood that was pulled over my head. “ And yes, yes I know .“ I whispered more quietly to my companion.
“Know what?” Arthur asked me.
“I was speaking to my serpent. He did not enjoy his journey back on your arm. He called you a fool.”
Arthur immediately scoffed. “Firstly, I found the damned thing in my bed.”
“Yes I know,” I assured him, “that was my doing. I needed you to return here to give an explanation for why you hadn’t after placing the flower in that loose stone. You were under direct orders to-”
“No man orders me besides my father,” Arthur reiterated with a rather exasperated tone. It would seem we both were not in the best of moods this late into the night. Daybreak would be upon us a very short distance from now.
“ Ordered . Instructed . None of that is of our concern now. I need you to explain what exactly you did do.“ My thumb lifted slightly, still hidden by this cloak, to gently stroke the head of my companion. I could still hear it funneling off its complaints about Arthur, my magick linking our thoughts.
“I…” Arthur paused, presumably thinking for a moment. “It was in some kind of box. I couldn’t remove it, but I believe my hand accidentally shut the lid.”
That made me pause for a moment. “A box, you say?” I asked this man who was seemingly struggling to hold his own head up above this table.
Arthur nodded. “A wooden box. I did not get the best view of it but it looked to be old.”
Interesting , I then thought to myself. Very interesting.
“What… what of my father then?” Arthur continued as he leant back in that old wooden chair.
“The sickness should take him in days time. Once he has passed, I believe Camelot will enter a period of mourning during the proceedings of the burial. Then you will be King. You will first need to gain the trust of your father’s most loyal, ensuring they will agree to a shift in diplomatic proceedings with little resistance. I will enter the castle at that time, though I will keep my true identity hidden to forge a seamless transition. I am only there to oversee the protection of my people, as you and I have agreed to.”
This prince gave me a slow nod, yet his demeanor was hesitant.
“Are you regretting my actions?” I asked him, to which the larger man quickly shook his head no.
“I… I am just coming to terms with the reality of it all. And there is one thing weighing heavily on my mind.” He admitted honestly.
“And that is?” I questioned, forcing myself to exercise some patience with the man. King Uther was still his father, however monstrous that man was.
“You knew, did you not? You knew of where Councilman Blackenwell would wish to be buried- where my father would have to journey to.”
I took a moment to answer him. “Yes. I knew.”
“When you said he would know it was you-”
“I did not lie.” I further clarified. “If I had gone about it any other way, he would have known it was magick. His death was what pulled your father from the castle for the first time in quite some years. I knew of his relationship with your father and the duty your father would feel he had to act upon in light of his own companion’s death. You should also know that Councilman Eerin and two guards have fallen ill this night.”
That made Arthur finally sit up straighter. “But they were-”
“They were there during The Great War all those years ago. Their age also aligns with your father’s, it will further contribute to the thought of simply an untimely death.” I explained to this man. “I had told you it would only take me a fortnight from my arrival in Camelot. I had expected your patience with me, yet perhaps I had not earned it then. Surely I must have earned it now, have I not… sssire?”
Arthur simply stared at me. It took him a little while before I finally saw the man nod.
“What you are to do now, Your Highness, is remain by your father’s side. Dutifully . Any requests he has, you accept. This must seem as a peaceful transfer of power in light of his death. Your father’s support even after death will be crucial to our own developments in Britain, and though they may postpone The Hunt, I need you to push for it to happen as soon as you can. This will be the first time the rest of Britain will regard you as their King. Make your father’s council believe that this would be an opportune moment for them to pay their respects to both the late King and his successor. Understood?”
Arthur listened closely to my words before he soon nodded. His next question, however, took me by some surprise. “How long have you really been planning all this? You have been meticulous with your actions since we set foot in Camelot together.”
His words made me chuckle slightly. “The Druids wanted your father’s head since The Great War itself. I assure you, we have had nothing but the time.”
“How old were you then?” the prince asked me. “How old were you during The Great War?”
That ask was not what made me fall silent. It was the man who had asked it, that had. My mind no longer crumbled when I thought of the devastation- of all who had perished, including my own family. I no longer felt the suffocation that came, or the excruciating pain that followed as I became who I was now. All I felt was determination to swing that pendulum back. “I was old enough,” I told this man of royal blood. And that was where I had planned to leave this conversation at. I had not invited him in to speak of the past.
Our only concern now was what was ahead of us.
“I have… I have one more request to make.”
“But of course, sire. Would you prefer I raise the sun come dawn?”
Arthur scoffed at my trivial tone, yet that didn’t discourage the young man. Of course it did not. “When you and I are together- when you do not have to conceal yourself… I would like you to remove your hood.”
That made my eyebrows raise some. “Is that an order, Your Highness?”
“A request ,” Arthur clarified. “I am not yet King. And if I were, I do not believe I could give you a single order in which you would bend the knee to.”
I could not stop the edges of my lips from tugging up slightly. “Very well, then,” I replied, my arms pushing past the thickness of my clock to reach up for the woven material and pull back my hood onto my shoulders. “Satisfied, Your Grace?” I asked Arthur, my eyes now holding his gaze.
Arthur nodded, the ghost of a smile haunting those lips of his own. “Very,” He spoke a little more quietly. “Considering I am the only one in this real who seems to know you do have a face, I rather I see it whenever possible.”
“Considering you are the only one who knows of my position in Camelot, there is no reason for others to see this face.” I countered with my words.
“You could remain a serpent,” he made sure to remind me.
“You almost lost your heart to its pounding the last time I spoke to you in my serpent form.” I made sure to remind him.
“And that had nothing to do with the venom from one of your companions coursing through my veins?” He questioned.
“It perhaps contributed,” my lips threatened me with another slight smile, but I cleared my throat in replacement of it. “You should… you should return to the castle, Your Highness, the sun will rise soon whether I will it or not.”
That earned an honest chuckle out of Arthur. His eyes finally shifted from mine to the rest of the small cottage behind me. “Can I rest my eyes here a moment?” he asked.
“No,” I shook my head almost immediately. “My serpents do not favour your company.”
“… Do you?” He asked, then shifted those light eyes back to mine. “Do you favour my company?”
My eyebrow raised slightly yet again. “At best, sssire, it is tolerated. Let us not forget I was perfectly content with killing you less than a fortnight ago. And my companions would accept the opportunity with glee if I were to give them one.”
“I will take my leave before the sun takes the sky,” Arthur insisted. His eye lids had grown heavier and heavier since he first entered through that door with my serpent on his arm. I gave it some thought before reluctantly yet eventually nodding.
“Take your rest then, Your Highness. I suppose you may need it once returning to the castle.” I decided, much to my companion’s dismay. I felt them tighten around my arm, but my decision came with the weight of finality. Arthur stood from his chair and walked towards the small bed, collapsing onto the thin mattress almost immediately. I remained seated here at the table with my thoughts.
There was still much the young prince did not understand.
I questioned whether he could withstand what was to come. Once I took to the castle, things would change. There was work to be done there which Arthur could have no part in. I had plans to understand the scent the prince came with- the scent my companion had noticed in addition to myself.
Yet I remained in that seat for some time as I listened to my serpents. Each night I allowed their anger to pool into me, allowing it fully, but after some time on this very night, I turned slightly to Arthur who sleep had fully taken the soul of.
He has grown , I thought again to myself. He was no longer that little boy . And for how long I had been watching him, there was one I hadn’t gazed upon in quite some time. The one I truly desired to see. My serpents traveled from my arms up my chest before I placed those arms onto the table and rested my head onto them, my eyes still on the resting prince.
He could build a different world for us . He possessed the strength to… but I knew not whether he had the fortitude to withstand his own mind. He looked nothing like his father , this dazzling prince, however the mind of his father was still locked away there somewhere.
I would need to protect it… Him .
And that was the last thought I had before my eyelids slowly lowered to completion.
When I awoke, I could sense the sun just starting her ascent. My eyes slowly opened, yet I was met with a pair of light ones staring at me from the bed. Arthur was resting on his side, however his eyes were open, watching me. Neither of us had said anything until I recalled his promise. “You are to return to the castle,” I spoke quietly, lifting my head from this table. “You must go.”
Arthur slowly pulled himself up from the thin mattress, stretching slightly before he stood. I remained seated at this table, watching him eventually make his way to the door again. He was awfully slow with his movements.
“When am I then to return?” He asked me near the entrance to this cottage.
“After the mourning period. And remember what I said, Arthur. Remain near him dutifully. Do what is expected of you.”
Arthur gave me a firm nod, before he opened the door, but he did not take his leave quite yet. “Emrys?” He called, looking back to me.
“Yes?” I replied.
“Will he… will he be in pain these next few days?”
“A little,” I answered honestly in regards to my first words, “but his death will not take long. Then he will be at peace.”
Arthur gave me yet another nod, then disappeared into the darkness of early morning, forcing me to sit alone here amongst the still dwindling fire, and my thoughts… rather, a single thought.
The thought of how my last few words had been a lie.
••
Chapter Ten: The King’s Last Request
Arthur
My head had barely touched that pillow before I heard a knock on my chamber door.
“Sire?” a guard called from just past the thick wood. I had almost released a groan from my lips but I held it in.
“Enter,” I spoke instead in a far more cordial tone, my tired eyes adjusting to a fully dressed and armored guard.
“Come quick, sire. It is your father.”
“I am not dying,” My father spat before another fit of coughs were released past his lips and into a handkerchief. I was seated on the edge of his bed whilst Morgana sat on the other side. The castle guards had ordered both her and I to keep our mouths and noses covered with handkerchiefs of our own, but Morgana was using hers to blow her nose into.
The young woman’s emotions were… heightened this morning, and though I knew what the outcome would be with our father, I still understood her concern in this earlier stage. My father’s skin had grown pale, his eyes the most tired we had possibly ever seen them. What he had not lost, however, was his charm.
“These shit guards and servants are walking around this castle like I may go at any moment- Morgana, straighten that back and stop your crying. It is ill fitting for a Pendragon.”
Morgana did her best to contain herself as directed by our father’s words.
“And Arthur?” My father continued.
“Yes, Father?” I replied rather hesitantly, unsure of what this older man was to say next. The fit of coughs he caught once again made it all the more looming.
“If anyone is to mention death within these palace walls, I want their head on a stake in the courtyard out front.” My father ordered, causing all breathes that once slipped past my lips to completely halt. I just gave my father one slow nod, for I had no spoken response for him. My father had been serious with his request. “They say two guards who accompanied me, along with Councilman Eerin have fallen sick. The guards may perish by nightfall, but Councilman Eerin has chosen to fight this, as will I. Things are to continue as they were, understood Arthur?”
“Yes, Father,” I nodded.
“They will find a cure for this,” my father assured me, and so I forced myself to nod again. Morgana attempted to silence her sniffles but it was no use. I wanted to comfort her, however my father would find that as weakness. “I want every guard to continue on their duties. Speak no word of my state outside of this castle. We are still to prepare for you to be wed. We are still to prepare for The Hunt. This minor illness means nothing.”
And once again, I nodded to my father.
In addition to stopping The Reckoning, I was hoping my father’s death could at the very least delay the wedding ceremony. My union with Guinevere was inevitable, yet I had plans to postpone it for as long as I possibly could. Guin would hopefully not see it fit to continue through the mourning, then we would have The Hunt to which the castle staff would be far too preoccupied to plan for both it and our wedding.
At the very least, I could postpone this for some moons before the Kingdom demanded a queen.
For now, however, I continued on as my father requested.
Upon leaving my father’s room, I made sure to alert Gisela and the guards that no one is to speak of my father’s health. The guards who had fallen sick hadn’t made it by nightfall, and come early morning, Councilman Eerin had put into place his last requests with his family. All our knights were out on a heavy patrol under the King’s orders to assure the safety of Camelot, and that this disease had not spread.
My father had called me into his room again by dawn, requesting only I as Morgana had spent the night near his bed, tending to the older man. He dismissed her shortly before I made it to his chamber.
I was startled by his appearance as I entered his room again. His skin was almost sheet white, with his veins the most apparent I had ever seen them. He had aged years in days, his years now fully defined. Emrys had been right, this illness had progressed at a rapid pace. My father beckoned me further in, signaling weakly with his hand for me to close the door after.
And the first words to pass from his dry lips was very different from the words that passed from them the prior day.
“I do not have much longer, son.” He told me with a deep amount of honesty. “You and I need to speak of the future-” he reached for a handkerchief to cough into, yet I noticed droplets of blood splattered onto it. “I will crown you King, forfeiting the throne.” That made my eyebrows raise quickly. I hadn’t expected this from my father. “But I will not do so until you wed.”
That alone was enough to make my heart sink into the cold castle floor.
“I have requested a ceremony tonight. You will first wed, then I will concede the throne. Is that understood?”
I remained silent for a moment, unsure how to agree to this. I hadn’t expected my father to request such a thing, but it should have been expected. I should have anticipated a man like King Uther would not go willingly unless he forced my hand one last time for good measure.
“Yes, Father.” I nodded to him after seeing no other way out of this. Emrys had been concise with his words- I was to agree to every and all requests however much I hoped to not. The transfer of power from my father to I would mean far more to his constituents if it be peaceful- if they witnessed that King Uther and I were in harmony up until his untimely death… and so I agreed.
“We are to marry this night?” Guin asked me as she sat on the edge of my bed in my chamber.
“Yes,” I replied, attempting to not sound as defeated as I felt as I continued laying out the garments my father had had delivered to my room shortly before I requested Guinevere to join me. “It his his lasts requests before he is to concede the throne.”
“This is good then. We will not have the ceremony I dreamed of as a child, but we could always plan one at a later date, My Love. For now, I believe this ask of him is not a large one.” Guinevere spoke softly, perhaps sensing my hesitancy to delivering on this request. “If it is what it takes to inherit the throne peacefully-”
“I know, My Love.” I spoke, slowing my steps to find the gaze that had been settled on me for most of this meeting. I took time to think of words that would soothe her, before settling on “I would like to give you the ceremony you dreamed of when you were a child.” And those words seemed to do it, as she gave me a smile. “My father will send a dress to your chamber. The ceremony will take place at his bedside for we cannot move him.”
Guinevere gave me a nod. “Will you then assume the throne?” She asked.
“Yes, though all diplomacy will halt as we enter the mourning period. I will give the people of Britain time to mourn their late King.” I explained, resuming my duties of preparing my attire for the evening.
“And what of Emrys?” She continued.
“After the period of mourning, he is to join us here in the castle permanently.”
“And what exactly allowed him to breach this castle, Arthur? What had changed?” Guin asked, pulling her legs in from the right side of the bed to crawl across the mattress to I who stood on its left side, placing more garments of clothing onto the bed itself.
“I cannot tell you that, My Love. My silence is congruent with your safety.”
Guinevere inched herself even closer. “He is a sorcerer, Arthur. You may conjure secrets with him, but you do not keep them from me. If we are to marry, there must be honesty between us. I can not rule a Kingdom beside you when I do not understand what it is we are surrounded by. Do not leave me in the dark, My Love.”
My hands slowed once again, laying the thick, blood red cape of the Pendragons down last onto the plush mattress before I turned slightly to my betrothed and reached for her. My hands gently cupped the sides of her face, then I bent down and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “I would not dream of it,” I whispered softly near her skin, my lips just barely brushing the tenderness of it. My body straightened itself moments later, and I pulled away. “For now, let us remain focused on my father’s asks so we may lay him to rest peacefully. I promise you honesty once it is safe for you within these walls, just as I promised I would make this castle safe for you.”
Before I could remove my hands fully from her, she reached up quickly to hold them there. “If we are to wed tonight, I would like you to join me in my chamber this night… and every night after this one. As the tradition.”
I gave my betrothed the warmest smile I could. “We will see come this night. Though as the tradition, we will share a chamber for the nights to come after this one. For now, go prepare yourself. The sun will soon set, and we are expected in my father’s chamber by then.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” Guin said with a large smile as she crawled back to the other side of the bed and brought herself to her feet quickly. I watched as she soon took her leave.
I believed her to have left something when I heard a knock on the chamber door again moments later, but I did not get the word enter past my lips before my door was pushed open and closed. I glanced up to see Morgana, which stopped all work I was doing immediately. “You have come from your room,” I noted, giving the young woman a smile. Her hair was a mess- well, more a mess than it usually was. Her skin was puffy and red from crying, her nose irritable from blowing it far too often and too abrasively. “Come here,” I whispered with a voice so gentle as I opened my arms to her, absorbing the strength of the young woman who quickly ran into them. “It is okay, Morgana,” I whispered. My hands had started their attempts to run my fingers through the young woman’s deep curls. She had gripped on to the sleeves of my shirt so tight, I believed she would rip them off completely.
“I do not wish to say goodbye,” she mumbled into my shirt. I believe she was just moments from using it, too, as a handkerchief, but I allowed it.
“We were to say goodbye at some point, my dear Morgana,” I whispered quietly, holding her tighter to me by her wild curls.
“I… I know, but… who is to teach me the violin now? Or yell at me about my bare feet?” She sniffled, tunneling her head further into my chest.
“ I
will ,“ I told her gently.
“You are shite at playing,” she quipped, sending a dagger straight through my heart. My father had attempted to teach me first but my dear sweet sister was indeed correct. I was horrendous.
“I will learn,” I replied quietly. “For you, I will learn.” That made Morgana hold me all the more tighter. “Now will you dress to attend my wedding ceremony this evening? If all goes well, I will be the new King by nightfall.”
Morgana scoffed lightly yet she did not let go. “Do you even want to marry?” she asked me quietly. “You and Guinevere have known each other since you were small… yet I see your reservations with her. Your reservations with all woman.”
That made my body still.
Morgana and I had never discussed this before.
“It will please our father- the King.” I told her equally as quietly as her words were with me. This conversation was only for her and I, even with the door to my chambers being closed.
“Why must you always please him?” Morgana more or less whined into me. “You never seem to make a decision of your own.”
“That is not honest,” I replied softly, “I decide to please him so a little wild-haired, barefoot woman may roam freely through her own life. And once I take the throne, I will have the authority to make certain that hair is never cut again. You just have to wait for me, dear sister. Allow me to get there first.”
Morgana released the lightest chuckle, easing the tension in my heart.
“Do you not wish to marry the one you love? Truly love?”
“What brings me true happiness, Morgana, is putting the ones I care about before myself. That is what makes a King a true King. Do you understand?” I asked this young woman. It took Morgana some time, but she soon nodded. “Good. Now hurry and change. We will be requested to father’s chambers soon, and though this union may not be one like the fairytales you read, I believe I will need to lean on your strength to help me through it. I need my sister there.”
And that was all the assurance Morgana needed before she slowly separated herself from me, gave me a firm nod as her hands pushed away those tears, then she hurried out of my chamber.
I spent the rest of my uninterrupted time changing into the most formal attire that my father had started to have crafted and sewn as soon as I asked for Guinevere’s hand. It was a beautifully gold embroidered attire- a blood-red vest with a long black collared coat and a scarlet dyed cape that attached to its shoulders with the crest of the Pendragons. A bowing dragon embroidered in more gold.
My hands were just tying off the black trousers when I heard a knock on my door. “It is only us.”
My lips pulled into a smile immediately at the voices. “Enter.”
Sir Lancelot and Sir Bedivere entered almost immediately, and when they got a good look at my wedding attire, Lancelot clutched at his heart whilst Bedivere feigned fainting back into Lancelot’s arms. Both men were, too, in royal attire, not their armor as they usually were.
“My goodness, Your Grace, you look dashing,” Lancelot spoke genuinely as he pushed Bedivere out of his arms. “We are here to escort you to the King.”
“Is that so?” I asked each of them with a smile, taking those few steps forward to pull each knight into a tight, warm embrace.
“We were also requested as witnesses to your official yet private coronation. I presume we will have a formal one after…” Bedivere’s voice trailed off quietly, to which I nodded.
“I better not see that smile leave your lips through the entirety of this evening,” Lancelot spoke as both men stepped aside to allow me a path out of my chamber. “This has been in place for some time now.”
“You have my word,” I promised this noble knight as I led them both out of my room, then through the halls of this castle. I had noticed an increase of guards around the castle itself, for we had passed by perhaps twelve during our walk. The knights remained quiet, as did most of everyone residing within these walls. None dare say a single thing out of place given the delicacy of my father’s worsening illness.
We maintained that silence until we reached my father’s chamber, yet the door was already open.
“Enter,” My father beckoned. He was upright in his bed, leaning against the headboard, but I could see the energy it took him to maintain this position. “Guinevere and Morgana are to join us shortly.”
I entered the room with both knights following to find one of my fathers Councilmen, Councilman Bertram, standing some steps away. He was who was to bind Guinevere and I under oath. I gave the older man a nod, to which he replied with a dutiful “Your Highness.”
No further words were spoken, however, because the next words came from someone nearing this room. “This dress itches,” Morgana whined.
“It is only for a short while,” another’s voice assured her gently. It was Guinevere.
I turned with both my knights, and my officiant for the evening, towards the door to my father’s chamber just at the right time to witness Guinevere walk through the large doorway first.
And she looked…
“ Beautiful ,“ Lancelot whispered, completing that thought for me.
Guinevere was in a long white dress, one tailored perfectly to her slim figure. The embroidery designs were the same as my own, a beautiful gold that crept up the chest portion of the dress itself. There was a cape attached to her own shoulders the same as mine, though hers were white, with the gold Pendragon crest embroidered on the beautiful, flowing material. Her braids were braided back into one lovely large braid with small white flowers slid in to those individual braids, creating an almost ethereal presence.
“Lancelot is indeed correct,” I told her quietly, “You look absolutely divine, My Love.”
That earned me one genuine smile from one genuine woman.
“Why could I not just wear a nightgown?” Morgana whined as she followed in after Guin. And my smile only widened. Morgana had changed into a red, floor length dress, one with similar gold finishings… however what I cared most of was that she had done the impossible.
She had brushed that hair of hers.
“Shall we begin, then?” My father asked, to which I turned, giving him a firm nod.
••
Chapter Eleven: My Betrothed
Arthur
“You look beautiful,” I whispered to Morgana.
“I would like to throw myself out of father’s open window.” She whispered in return.
“Please refrain from doing such a thing.”
That made Morgana chuckle quietly, however my father clearing his throat put an end to that with a swiftness.
“Come forward,” Councilman Bertram instructed me, to which I took a step forward away from Morgana to face my betrothed. Morgana said many things in her years, yet I still kept an eye on my father’s open window just past Guinevere in case the young girl attempted anything drastic. The knights took their placement near the door to the chamber, guarding it closed for an uninterrupted service. “We are gathered to unify Prince Arthur Pendragon with his to be, Guinevere Findabair. We are gathered before the King, King Uther Pendragon, to bear witness to this union. Do both parties consent to such a union?”
“Yes,” Guinevere answered.
And I followed her with a “yes.”
“Good. Very good.” Councilman Bertram nodded from his placement near my father’s bedside. “This is a ceremony of marriage until death doeth part- the conjoining of marriage within the court. This union is to carry the sacredness of the throne. Guinevere Findabair, you are to bind both your mind, your spirit, and your body to Prince Arthur, the future King of Camelot and Britain. You will serve him in all aspects deemed suitable by Prince Arthur. And you, Prince Arthur, will bind your mind, your body, and your spirit to Miss Guinevere Findabair. This Union is as to be recognized by the Council, by the courts, and by the King himself. Do you abide by such principles?”
“I do,” Guinevere spoke, her eyes shifting from Councilman Bertram to mine.
And as those words of finality seeped into me, my eyes cast slightly to my fathers on my left, but he only nodded, further granting- forcing his approval…
And so my eyes returned to my betrothed to utter the words “I do.”
I then forced myself to muster a smile that still paled in comparison to the one Guinevere gave me before I slid my arm around her slim waist, pulled her close to me, and kissed her gently. Those who filled this chamber clapped dutifully, yet I could not share in the joy. My heart was elsewhere this evening, as was my mind.
When I pulled away from my… from my wife, I looked at her a moment. I tried to savour the happiness that was spread across her face like a warm ray of sun. She is beautiful, I reminded myself once more. And then again.
“Guinevere and Morgana, I ask that you leave.” My father spoke, saving my heart from any more turmoil. “Morgana, you are free to change. Guinevere, direct the castle staff to begin moving the prince’s items into your chamber, from hereon you two will remain together.”
I forced myself to maintain this smile, yet it easily slipped into a chuckle when I heard Morgana mutter under her breath “ oh thank the gods ,“ before she quickly took her leave.
“I shall then see you after?” Guinevere asked me quietly, to which I nodded, watching as she took her leave bearing the crest of the Pendragon. She is a Pendragon now , I reminded myself.
“Now,” my father sighed to himself, “the paperwork. Pass it over, Councilman Bertram,” my father extended his hand weakly, to which the Councilman placed both the papers he was holding and a quill into my fathers hand. He then picked up the ink from the table on the bedside to hold for my father as my father began to write his Instrument of Abdication, relinquishing the throne to I.
We all stood, waiting patiently for the older man who took his time with it.
There was no rushing the king.
And once he had read it over to himself, then read it once again, he was finally prepared to say its words. “I, King Uther Pendragon, King of Britain, relinquish the throne, its title, its power, and its secrecy to my one and only heir, formerly Prince Arthur Pendragon to now be known as King Arthur Pendragon of both Camelot and Britain. He is to rule in my stead and in wake of my untimely death. He is to carry the Pendragon name, and to carry it with pride, as have I.”
I immediately took a knee, as did every man in this chamber, at my father’s words.
“It will not be long before my soul leaves this world. I trust my son will lay it peacefully to rest. I trust he will continue the work I have set out for the Pendragons and this nation, and I trust… I trust he will make me proud.”
And as my father finished, we all rose from the ground to bow to him.
As recognized by the court, the Council, and my father the former King, I had now been officially crowned as King Arthur Pendragon of Britain.
Upon my goodbyes to both my knights- my friends, my Councilman Bertram, my father stopped me before I could go.
“Shut the door, Arthur, and come here a moment.”
I did as I was told, shutting the door to the chamber before returning to my father’s bedside. “What is it, Father?” I asked him, watching as my father lifted his arms from under the sheets I had tucked him into. He slid his fingers behind his neck, before pulling something over his head.
“Hold out your hand, my son.” His voice was weak, yet I still heard him, fulfilling his ask, to which my father placed that key once hung around his neck, into it. “With this key, King Arthur Pendragon of Britain, I bestow to you the secrets of the Pendragons. You are to wear it at all times, keeping it hidden from this world. Do you understand?” My father asked, to which I nodded. “None besides the Pendragons should ever enter that room. Keep it secret. Keep it safe. Keep it hidden .” I gave my father another nod.
He watched closely as my fingers slipped it over my own head, before I tucked it under all the material I wore, keeping it hidden, just as he said.
“This world is now yours to mold, King Arthur. And as I feel my last few breathes leave me, allow me to leave you with this: You have made me proud since the second I bore witness to you, and you have made me proud ever since. It was my own pride that had stopped me from telling you that more, yet I will not be able to take that pride with me when I go… so allow me to release it now.”
And as I listened to his words, I felt a part of me fall apart further.
My father was approaching his end…
So why did it hurt so much?
“I do not want you to see the light leave my eyes, dear son. Go be with your wife. Satisfy her from hereon so she may never leave your side. Come dawn you will find me here, and you will know what to do. You’ve always known what to do to make me proud.”
His words were so frail, I felt all words that held any and every possibility, simply leave me. In replacement of them, I found myself bending down slowly to do something I had stopped doing many many years ago.
I placed a gentle kiss on my father’s forehead. “Thank you,” my voice whispered quietly to him, but my father only nodded.
And for the very last time, I followed the orders given by my father.
I left his chambers to go to my wife.
“Arthur?” Guinevere mumbled softly against my lips. “Where are you right now?” She whispered quietly.
She had undressed down to a beautiful nightgown, one of silk, waiting for me… yet as I stripped my clothes inside this chamber whilst darkness long consumed the night, my mind remained elsewhere. I thought of everything else but this. I thought of if I would feel it when my father drew his last breath. I thought of when that might be.
And now, resting above my wife, trying to kiss her… I realized that I could not do this tonight.
“May we just-… can we just lay here a moment?” I asked her quietly. “My mind… it is still with my father.” And I watched as Guin’s eye’s softened immediately. She nodded, allow me to push myself off of her before she made space for me in her bed. My items were in this chamber. I was in this chamber. This was our bed. I needed to remind myself of that.
Guinevere allowed it as we laid on our side, her back to me as my arm wrapped around her small waist. There were no words passed between us after that, just soft breathes while she drifted off to sleep, and I remained awake.
I tried to find sleep, yet just as I was finally finding her, I felt the pang in my heart I was waiting on. One I didn’t know how I knew I would feel, but I did.
My father had taken his last breath.
And while Guin had long since fallen asleep, I knew I could not sleep here. I could not stay here.
I did not sneak out of that castle. I left through the back door, walking boldly across to the stables.
“Y-Your Highness,” both guards greeting me, bowing. “The sun will rise soon. What brings you out here?”
“A hunt,” I told them. “I will be back within the hour, just staying near the entry to the forest. Remain here to greet me when I return.”
“Y-Yes,” the first guard nodded quickly.
“Of course, our King.” The second nodded, following the first, before they both went into the stables to retrieve my horse.
And I had been honest. I tied my horse near where I had last, yet I made the trek on foot towards that old cottage. I only had to knock twice before Emrys opened the door for me.
“What bring you here?” he asked me at the entrance, his hood pulled forward, keeping his face hidden.
“The King is dead,” I replied quietly. Emrys didn’t say anything, but after a moment, he stepped to the side, allowing me in.
The home had a warm glow cast upon it by the dwindling fire. Emrys had seemed to finally make use of the fireplace, which brought me some joy. At lease he was eating.
“You should not be here,” Emrys told me, yet he did not tell me to go.
“May I rest here a moment?” I asked him as he closed the door. I was already removing my armor.
“Is your bed not suitable, my prince?” He asked me. “You have my word. No more snakes.”
I chuckled at that, shaking my head. “I rather it be in my bed than on my arm. And it is not prince, dear sorcerer, it is King.” I cold not see most of Emrys’s features, but I could see his lips curl up into a slight smile. “As your King, I recall making a request last time I was here. Will you not honor it?”
Emrys hesitated a moment, but eventually his arms slip past his cloak, and lifted them to lower his hood back onto his shoulders, revealing those elegant, beautiful features to me. Features that made my heart completely stir.
“You did not answer to the issue of your bed,” Emrys then reminded me as I placed the last of my armor on a chair in his dining, before moving back to the thin mattress of his bed and taking a seat.
“My bed is fine,” I told him honestly. “Guinevere’s is too soft.”
“You are… you are sharing a bed, then? Well I guess if the King is dead-”
“We wed this evening,” I let slip, almost snapping my mouth shut as soon as I said it. That made Emrys’s eyebrows raise greatly.
“You mean to tell me… that you left your wife in her bed… on your wedding night?”
That forced me to look everywhere else but at the young sorcerer. “Well when you put all those words together in such a way…”
“Arthur, you cannot just-”
“You are right,” I spoke, cutting off his words with my own as I looked back at the man. At the beauty I now had the opportunity to lay my eyes on. “I cannot. Not when-… not with- with my father-”
“Lay down.” Emrys spoke- ordered , rather, as he took a seat on the chair near the fire. “I will awaken you before dawn.” And that pulled from me the first genuine smile in what felt like quite some time.
“Are you… are you to rest at the table again?” I asked him, remembering how we had awoken that morning.
“I will think at the table again,” He corrected me.
“Sleep found you last time.”
“Yes, well, now that you are King, there is much to think on.”
“If that is what pleases you,” I sighed in defeat as I stretched my legs onto this mattress. Emrys had positioned himself at the end of the table again to be able to watch me, which brought another smile to my face.
And I believe sleep found me with that smile on my face…
But it didn’t last long.
I awoke some minutes later from a dream of my father. As my eyes adjusted, I noticed Emrys’s head was settled gently in his arms on that table, though I didn’t want to wake him. Instead I turned to face the stone wall, holding my frame tighter as this overwhelming sadness started to fully consume me.
I knew I had no right to mourn the loss of a man responsible for the lives of so many innocent…
And yet I still did.
I could feel my eyes start to water with the thought of his last words to me, but I swore to myself I would not lose my resolve. Not here with Emrys . But my body almost fully jumped out of my skin when I felt the mattress of this bed dip however much it could from the shallowness. And when I felt a gently hand on my shoulder, my body grew completely rigid.
I had not heard him rise. I had not heard his feet against the stone floor.
“It…” Emrys whispered quietly still some distance away. He must have been sitting on the side of the bed. “It is okay to mourn him.”
His voice was so soothing, so comforting, so… different from what I had come to know, and so much so that when I felt him pull away, my left hand reached up from the mattress to place it over his. “ Do not go back to the chair ,“ I whispered ever so quietly, I wasn’t sure anyone but him would be able to hear it. And I expected him to say no… but he did not. Instead I felt more movement on the mattress. There was no part of him that touched me besides the hand on my shoulder, but that was enough for me.
It was more than enough.
And so I listened to his breathes and my own, not caring if a serpent was to slither past his arm anymore. I did not care where they were in this old cottage.
I just wanted to feel his touch above the garments of my undershirt.
When I awoke again, I was facing Emrys.
No part of us was touching- something I was certain he made sure of… but he was still resting.
His face had looked… beautiful. There was no other way to describe it. Just beautiful. His features were the most unique thing I had ever bore witness to, with his long fiery hair spread over the shoulders of his cloak. I noticed movement on the floor of the cottage, through the slight light from the almost burnt out fireplace, but I cared not what his companions were up to. My focus was solely on him.
There was nothing that could make my heart beat quite like this.
I remained as still as possible to prolong this- being able to see him like this. He didn’t go back to that chair , I thought to myself. And I wanted it to mean more than it most likely did. I wanted to mean more than I most likely did.
Very soon I would need to awaken. I had told the guard to await my return, and I knew the would not move from those stables until I did… but I wasn’t quite ready to explain myself to Guin. To have her understand why I had gone on a hunt. I wasn’t ready to hold my sister for as long as she needed once she heard news of my father passing.
And above all else… I was not quite ready to hear the news myself.
“You must leave soon,” Emrys whispered before those eyes of his opened, revealing their golden hues. “You cannot stay here.”
His words were the harsh truth, yet his tone was gentle. There was still some exhaustion in his cadence.
“If I were to be able to stay… would you allow it?” I asked him quietly, still watching him closely.
“You cannot,” he insisted quietly. “My companions do not favour you being here, remember? And you are the King now.”
“You do not seem to mind,” I reminded him.
“Just as you put your people first, I must do the same with my companions.” He whispered quietly in return, yet I watched as this sorcerer pulled himself up, turning before sitting on the edge of the bed. I pulled my own legs in and lifted myself up before draping over the side of the bed and sat beside him. “Go apologize to your wife. And go care for your sister.”
My head turned slightly to him. “You know of Morgana?” I asked him, yet I watched as Emrys’s gaze cast to the fireplace.
“Yes,” He replied quietly. “Go care for her. She knew not of the true horrors of your father. Her emotions bear no conflict, there’s only sadness there. I need for you to carry her through this.” Then Emrys did something that took me completely by surprise. He placed a hand gently over the one I had rested on my thigh, the warmth from his skin surprising me further. And it lasted but a single moment before he pulled away and stood.
Emrys had allowed me to run away to him here this night, but it was time to take responsibility for running.
So I had no choice but to do the same, standing up as he did.
••
Chapter Twelve: The Castle
Got three new uploads coming today! (As always, they’re up on Substack first with the polished versions)
Enjoy, lovelies!
P.S. I have been super busy as of late so sorry for the lack of interaction. I lost my job at the end of March and have been in the job hunting process so bear with me, I just wanna make sure I keep up with my writing though so I’ll be posting then dipping lol. But comment away, I shall get to them soon!
Emrys
I was not sure why I let him in.
Nor why I did not return to that chair.
I just remember sensing something as I rested my head on the table. I could feel the overwhelming sadness in that man, it had seeped passed him, filling the small home that sheltered us both.
He had left his wife on the night of their wedding…
I could only hope the King had listened to my instructions and returned to apologize. Guinevere had already won the hearts of the people. I needed for her to win the heart of him, too. Whatever it would take.
And I needed for him to put together the breaking heart of the only woman I had ever cared for besides my mother. The young girl who was but a casualty of the war that passed, grown to a woman who would be the casualty of the war that was blooming on the horizon.
Morgana .
As the kingdom entered its mourning period for their King, I had work of my own to do. Work that my companions had waited many many years for to carry out.
It required more sleep of both me and them, as well as additional meals to maintain the strength for. What I was to do now was similar to what I had done during The Great War those years ago, however not entirely. I could hear his voice in my head, telling me- warning me as he had those years ago… yet I had an obligation to my companions and to this land. One I refused to betray.
Arthur remained in the castle, with me praying that he had apologized to his wife. They would need to be a unified pair in order to show strength for the people of Camelot and Britain, and Arthur leaving her in the castle was not fitting of his duties. Him joining me here… it was not fitting.
This period of mourning however took its time within the Kingdom, approximately a fortnight before the King returned to this old cottage for the final night. I had heard his light knock on the mangled door, but I had to quickly transform myself from the serpent to open for him. I had maintained this form for some days to reserve my energy, however I could not return to the castle in this manner.
“It is time.” The King spoke once I opened that door to face him. “You are to return to the castle with me now. I will introduce you… yet I know not what to introduce you as.”
I reached to remove my hood, but quickly thought against it. It was better to keep me fully covered as I felt my companions slithering up my legs, soon joining my body underneath thick cloak. Arthur stepped aside to allow me through the door and into the darkness of the night alongside him. “You may refer to me as Merlin,” I told the handsome King. He now wore the armor of King Uther, causing his appearance to largen in size. I looked closer at the well casted metal, but had to remind myself that the man leading me back through the darkness of this forest was not the man who burned both it and my people all those years ago.
This will be different, I thought to myself.
He will be different.
Arthur turned his head slightly, nodding to me. Then we made the return to the castle in silence.
His father’s death had changed him some. Some of that spark once in his light eyes had faded, yet I told myself that that was to be expected. That I had to handle his mourning delicately… but the one I cared for most resided in that castle, and my excitement for seeing her grew with every step I took.
Once we neared the castle, I also noticed the additional guards that were posted both at the stables and at the rear end of the castle itself, however Arthur led us around to the front to be met by even more guards.
They bowed respectfully to their King and I, stepping aside to allow us entry through the large castle doors with no questions of their own. Once we were safely passed the doors themselves, Arthur drew closer to me. “I have told them that you are a distant traveler here to assist with this transition of power. They believe you to be a scholar from the outskirts of Britain.” I nodded at the King’s quiet words, yet my attention was on the entry to this massive home. There were two additional guards here who bowed, however it was the person who approached us from the corridor to our right in which they bowed to.
“My Queen,” Arthur smiled politely at the beautiful woman.
Guinevere.
Her richly dark skin glowed in the warm lights that lined the castle walls itself, her dress this evening was a beautiful lilac colored gown, worn proudly with the pendragon crest embroidered onto a black cape attached at her shoulders. Her beauty perceived her, truly. She was breathtakingly gorgeous, and I did not understand the King’s hesitancy to this union. Any man would kill for a chance at her exquisite state.
“We appreciate you coming to this place. I am Queen Guinevere-”
“I know of you, my queen,” I bowed politely in her presence, removing my hood to show her further respect, yet I could see as her nut brown eyes widened slightly. “My name is Merlin, and it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Thank you for opening your home to me.” I felt the serpents wrapped around my body, tighten slightly, yet they remained hidden as we had discussed.
“Your reputation perceives you… greatly. Arthur did not mention you were so… young. And handsome.” Guinevere cast a sharper gaze to Arthur, who returned that gaze with a small, rather apologetic smile. “We will get you situated in this home, with our servants acting as both an extension of ourselves and you. You may follow us to the chamber we have prepared in your absence.”
I gave Guinevere a gentle smile, returning my hood above my head and allowing the elegant woman to guide us as we walked the halls of this castle in silence. I believe we all understood that it was not safe to discuss anything further about my appearance, especially given the amount of guards scattered within the castle, all of which gave us a respectable bow as the King and his Queen led me through the corridors before ascending up the back stairwell.
I had made a dire mistake in one assumption as I sensed the halls the Queen was now leading us to, and was forced to navigate this next question in a rather… delicate way.
“The King has then taken the late King’s chamber I presume?” I asked the Queen as I remained behind her with King Arthur only slightly ahead of me, staggered to my right.
“No, that chamber is to remain unoccupied. The King has taken up in my chamber with me, and you are to have his.”
… shite.
I knew I had recognized this familiar hall. A corridor all to full for my liking.
“This here is Morgana’s chamber,” Guinevere explained as she slowed to the first door we passed from the stairwell… yet she did not have to tell me for I knew. I could sense her inside this room on our right.
“Am I to meet her this night?” I asked the Queen, yet the beautiful young woman looked to me before she slowly shook her head no.
“She has not left from that room since…“Guinevere trailed off a moment as her soft voice managed itself an even softer note.
“Since my father- the King, passed” Arthur explained for his wife, to me on my right. All I could do was simply nod in return, for I not only sensed Morgana but also her sadness. It lingered here right at her door, telling me she had not crossed past the wooden frame much at all. “Let us continue,” Arthur insisted quietly, though his light eyes lingered there a moment, perhaps sensing just what I had.
Guinevere continued leading us, her steps light against the cold stone castle floors.
There was not much distance we traveled through the dim warm light before she slowed again, gesturing to her left. “This here is the King and I’s chambers. If you are to need us for anything at all, simply knock. King Arthur has since kept the time his father once did, yet I rise a little later. And Morgana… well, once she is to come from her chambers, she makes a habit of doing so once the sun is well and up.”
That released the faintest chuckle from my lips, something Guinevere smiled to, yet Arthur just simply looked at me with slight confusion in his eyes. Like he had witnessed something unknown. Had it really been that long since I showed any signs of joy?
“As for you, Merlin,” Guinevere then continued on to the last door at the end of the corridor to her left yet again. “This was once King Arthur’s. And King Uther’s before he moved himself to the back of the castle. My room was once King Arthur’s so it is only fitting he returns to it,” she finished, turning back slightly to her husband. Arthur gave her a polite smile, then a certain nod. And Guinevere seemed content with that for she then reached forward for the handle of the door and pushed it open.
There was no lie that Guinevere had told. The chamber had been prepared for me. The bed was well made, a large one at that with both a beautiful rich wood headboard and footboard. Directly across from this door was a table with a large mirror settled upon it, granting the sights of all three of us.
“There is more clothing in that armoire over there,” Guinevere gestured for the large standing furniture. “I did not know what you favoured, yet Arthur-”
“I prefer my cloak,” I told Guinevere with a slight, polite smile.
“Well, surely you must prefer a choice in undergarments. There are a selection of shirts inside.”
“Just my cloak,” I assured her, “though some trousers are much preferred my Queen, thank you.”
“Do you not get a chill?” this beautiful woman asked, turning to me. I noticed Arthur’s eyes were already on me as he stepped through the room more to lean slightly against the footboard of the bed.
“This cloak is not made of the material you believe it to be.” was all I replied with, sensing the confusion between these two Royals. It was not material made of anything they knew of, and so I allowed that confusion to linger between them both, unwilling to dwell on my understanding for their own knowledgeable gain. “Now, I am sure it is much to late for you to tend to me further. You have done more than enough, I assure you. Take your rest and I shall see to it I take mine.”
Guinevere looked at me a moment from what she could still see past this hood… yet she spoke nothing more of my words. “He is right, Dear.” I stepped aside, allowing her to reach for her husband. “Let us prepare for bed then. I am sure the soon rising sun will show no mercy on our responsibilities then.”
Yet Arthur seemed to still linger here. “Will you be joining me for breakfast?” He asked me. “I rise before dawn- before the sun does.”
“Why do we not all take breakfast together?” I offered in return. “Lay with the Queen a bit longer, rise when she does, then I will join you both.”
Arthur kept his gaze on what he could of my face, yet I saw a pleasant smile grace his wife’s lips. “I would very much enjoy that, My Love,” she said, her outstretched hand gesturing ever so slightly for the King to take, to which he finally did. I would have to scold him on keeping his wife waiting like that- the Queen waiting like that. He was not to do it again.
And surely not in the presence of I .
“Yes,” words finally fell past those lips of his. “Yes, that is a lovely thought.” Then those eyes finally found the place they should have been all along. On Guinevere’s. Her slender, darker skinned fingers found the spaces between his, and locked them, allowing Arthur to lead her from this room. Yet as his gazed passed by mine, I could see something there. Something that shouldn’t be.
Uncertainty .
I gave my King and Queen a bow of respect, my hood tipping forward slightly, yet my heart yearned for the sound of that chamber door closing, and as soon as it had, I felt my creatures slip from beneath my cloak towards the stone floor, eager to explore their new surroundings. They had business to attend to , I thought to myself as I turned and sat back on this rather firm bed. More firm than I first suspected.
The feeling was a comforting one, I thought. It reminded me of the old cottage that had become my home for many nights as I remained in Camelot. It reminded me of the forest floor that was once my home for many years. Something cold, yet familiar.
I bent down so my hands could stretch to my sandals and remove them. I wished not to dirty the plush, white material of this bedding, and instead pulled my feet up onto it. My creatures roamed freely upon this floor, though they knew of my purpose this evening, and they knew of theirs as they slowly returned just some steps away from the door. Guarding it. My legs pulled themselves into a crossed position under my cloak as I sat on this mattress, the firmness allowing my posture to straighten.
This would not be a pleasant night, I thought, closing my eyes with no means to bear those golden irises to this realm for some time. The magick coursing through these veins of mine started to move more quickly across this vessel, easing my body into a state no man had done before me. I could feel his power trickling into my own, beckoning me where I needed to go. And once my lids opened once more, these eyes were not that of mine.
I did not see the room that once was King Arthur’s. I did not see the furniture, or stone built walls. Instead, all I saw was darkness- the world as we once knew faded from existence, and I entered this black void.
“W-Who… who goes there?” A broken voice whispered quietly. “W-What is this place?”
“I prefer to call it the In Between,” I replied lightly as my voice filled all the darkness of this place, encompassing it.
“Why am I here?” he whispered. “Why am I-”
“Shhh…” I replied slowly. “This is what houses the souls of those who have not truly died, yet they can never live again. It is but darkness, and yet it is a cage no soul can cross. There is a barrier between where you are, and where I am.”
“I do not understand,” that old, disgusting voice spoke. “Do you know who’s soul you’ve captured?”
And I heard a light chuckle of mine slip into that darkness. “ But of course . It has been waiting here- this cage- vacant, just for one. Its only purpose is to bring true Retribution. A time in place .“
“I-… I do not und-”
“You are correct. You do not, but you will soon.”
I felt the burning light of his magick slip through that barrier, coiling around that blackened soul. And the first cries of the torturing heat felt, as pain cut through in places no man knew it could…
Well, it brought both I, and the souls that strengthened my power, much comfort.
“Let me show you what it feels like to truly burn from something… Uther Pendragon .”
••
Chapter Thirteen: A Parched Throat
Arthur
I lay awake as I felt an arm slowly slip itself around the bare torso of my body.
“Arthur,” Guinevere whispered quietly, to which I placed a hand over that warm arm.
“Are you awake now, My Love?” I asked her gently, to which she responded by shifting closer and grazing the tip of her nose up along the nape of my neck.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I am now. How long have you been?”
My eyes wished to continue staring at our nightstand near this side of my bed. At the cases that held some of Guinevere’s jewelry. This was where my eyes had remained since the moments before dawn, once my body stirred.
I had spent many nights here in this chamber with Guin, and yet I had not felt any need to touch any of her items. Mine- my books, my statues- they were all tucked away in crates at the corner of the room. Guin had insisted we make this place ours, and yet I did not know how. The mattress wasn’t firm enough for me. The overly plush material of the covers felt like I was drowning in fabric. I knew not of how to grow accustomed…
And yet I forced myself to turn to the beautiful Queen who lay under these sheets in a smooth silk nightgown, with the thinnest of straps draped loosely over her shoulders. She looked the most heavenly just as she woke, her face relaxed and well rested, and so I forced myself to smile at such beauty I was favoured enough to call my own.
“Only moments before you woke, My Love.” I assured her. I could see it in her eyes that she did not believe me, and so I drew nearer to place a soft kiss on her full lips. She leant into me some, hoping I would linger there longer, but I did not. “We should get dressed,” I whispered instead. “Breakfast awaits us. As does the Kingdom.”
I could see it in her eyes- the longing . The want for far more. The desire for us to become more. My only reasoning for why we hadn’t consummated this marriage finally, once night had befallen us, was that my mind was on the people, and what Emrys-Merlin had in store for them.
Then my reasoning for why before that reasoning was that I was in mourning.
Soon whatever reasons left would surely run dry, and then she would start to really question my hesitancy. I wanted nothing more than for Morgana to get well, however for now I decided I might still have time to use my concern for her to buy myself more time.
But Guinevere still gave me a dutiful, small nod. She knew not of when I first stirred, nor what had kept this mind of mine occupied. And had she… I would lose her entirely.
Guinevere and I quickly washed and changed before we walked hand in hand towards the dining hall, yet it was the sound of the voices already inside that slowed these steps of both I and my wife.
“And so you do believe it?” A young woman asked.
“But of course,” the deep voice of a young man replied.
“And they really did grow to be that big? Just as you said?” The woman asked, yet I heard that familiar playful tone. I could tell it apart from any other woman I had ever known.
“I am a man of many things, yet I am not a liar.” The young man insisted, to which my ears only listened harder as the open entrance drew further into view.
“ Everyone is a liar!“ She insisted playfully, “Well, at least, everyone does lie from time to time.” That youthful voice spoke with light laughter, joy I thought I might not hear again in her tone.
And as Guinevere and I finally reached that entrance hand in hand, I witnessed the sight of both Merlin and Morgana already seated at the table, Arthur adjacent to the head of it, whilst Morgana was at his side to his left. He still bore that thick black cloak of his… yet his hood had been paced back onto those broad shoulders as he looked over then down at my sister, revealing his face completely to her.
“I like to call them partial truths ,” he whispered her way, sending her a wink as those lips of his curled up into the most beautiful, playful smile- one I had never seen him bear before. And the abundance of warmth in Morgana’s laughter almost startled me into silence.
Almost.
I cleared my throat before my young sister could say another word.
And once both their eyes found mine, they stood to their feet quickly, pushing back the heavy wooden chairs as they did.
Morgana’s hair was even less kept then it usually was. She was still in her night gown which at first troubled me, before I realized it shouldn’t. I had not seen her in quite some days, and the gloominess hoovering over every corridor in this castle had proven just that.
Merlin, however, had his long fiery hair tucked back some into that lowered hood, and I watched as he and my sister bowed in respect of the Queen and I.
“Morgana!” Guinevere first spoke with a boisterous smile. “You… You have left from your chamber.”
I could see Morgana’s smile falter somewhat, yet when she turned her head slightly to Merlin, who had already started to lift the hood off his shoulders, the fullness of her smile returned.
“Not willingly,” she admitted. “My throat felt parched, and so I attempted to sneak my way into the kichene in the earlier hours, before dawn, yet I found this odd man to be in there with two glasses of water already poured,” Morgana then gestured to Merlin who’s lips still had a slight smile playing at them. One that made me follow my wife further inside to get a better look past that low hood of his. “How did you know?” she then questioned him.
“I did not,” he replied rather coyly to my sister. “They were both for my own parched throat, you just boldly helped yourself to one.”
And yet, that very hair-thin smirk on his lips, as he turned his head slightly to Morgana, made this young woman’s only grow.
I, on the other hand, did not quite understand what it was I felt. This… this was not the Merlin- the Emrys I knew of. This was not a side he had shown to me.
And yet… yet he showed it to my sister.
I cleared my throat once more, forcing their attention back towards me, to which Merlin’s smile soon vanished, and I gestured rather firmly for us all to take a seat, with myself at the chair at the head of the table, and Guinevere to my right. Guinevere had a smile dancing upon her own lips, however I did not.
“And what of us all joining past dawn for breakfast?” I asked Merlin, to which his hooded face turned to me slightly.
“Well,” he started, and in a tone far less forgiving than the one he took with Morgana, “we are all here now, are we not? A time in place ,” then he turned back to my sister, gentling his tone to say, “had I not awoken before dawn, I would have missed someone as irreplaceable as this beautiful young woman is here, then we would not all be here, now would we?” And when Merlin looked at me once more, he finished his words with “her chamber was becoming a cage.”
I felt my face start to harden some at Merlin’s choice of words- at the right he thought he had to-
“You are indeed correct, Merlin, thank you. We had missed your presence, Morgana, within these castle walls.” And that, in return, sent a warning through my entire being, to release that anger at once. “Is that not right, My Love?” Guin asked as she turned to me.
And so I looked on to my little sister, that warm smile of hers always managing to ease the tension of my own. “That is right,” I nodded. “We missed you, Morgana.” And my sister gave me a smile reserved for I and I alone.
She had finally eased her head over the unforgiving waves of some of that suffering- that mourning.
I suppose my anger really lay with the simple fact that I had not been the one to pull her from it.
Perhaps it lingered there because he had been the one. Merlin. Emrys .
And as I watched him lean over slightly to hear something Morgana hadn’t even started to whisper to him yet, I felt that- that feeling inside me burning once again at the simple sight of it. At every gesture he felt so freely exposing to her. How they had spent time from before dawn till now together. And how he…
How she could pull from him such a smile I hadn’t quite managed to myself yet.
“Arthur,” Guinevere whispered at the table quietly to me, pulling my gaze away from Merlin and my sister who were speaking freely amongst themselves of the SummerLilies that would soon be in bloom this season.
“Y-Yes?” I asked her quietly. There was some concern in those beautiful brown eyes of hers, forcing me to hold her gaze.
“You need to eat something.” Guinevere gestured to the plate of mine that had hardly been touched. “Please. You have a meeting with the councilmen this day. Please , My Love, eat more.”
I gave this gentle woman a gentle nod, before my hand reached for the fork.
“Are you and my brother to then retreat to that boring old study of his? Of my fathers?” I heard Morgana ask Merlin as I speared a sausage with my fork.
“No,” Guinevere answered for me, “Arthur and I have quite the lengthy meeting with the councilmen again this day. There is no telling of our return.”
“Good,” Merlin spoke, surprising even I as I glanced up. “I do believe the Council are in dire need of both a King and a Queen. It pleases me to hear of your attendance, my Queen.”
That brought Guinevere great happiness. I could see it in the most genuine smile she gave Merlin for his words.
“And that pleases me, too,” Morgana added, “for now you and I, Merlin, can go on a bit of an adventure of our own. I’d like to see if we can find some SummerLilies before they come to full bloom- they make for the best tea.”
“Why that sounds like a marvelous idea, Ms. Morgana-” Merlin started, but I quickly cleared my throat.
“Merlin is much to busy for that, dear sister.” I assured her, setting my fork down before I even took a single bite of that sausage.
“Doing what, exactly?” Merlin asked, turning to me. His face didn’t hold the same- the way it had with Morgana- and I could only see such little of it thanks to his hood, yet I knew. And I quickly turned back to the plate of food at the table, picking up the silver fork once more, then the knife, as I started to cut into the sausage I had speared.
“You are to wait for my return in my study-”
“ Arthur ,“ Guinevere cut in this time, forcing my gaze to meet my wife’s hardened one. “Do not be ridiculous. Your sister has not seen daylight in quite some time, let her go . She needs that fresh air, and you know there is none stronger… she would not be more safer than with-”
“I will send you with three guards,” I spoke, turning from my disapproving wife towards Merlin and Morgana.
“ Arthur -“ Guin started, yet it was Merlin who’s words surprised me.
“Very well. As you should, my King. Protection during this time is surely needed.” Merlin agreed to this over the groans of Morgana sitting next to him.
“We will not venture past the entrance to the-” Morgana started, but I cut her words off.
“Should I make it four?” I asked her seriously. It was the scraping of my plate against the wooden table as Guinevere pulled it from its place and picked up her own, that surprised me. Then she stood from her seat with such grace, both plates in her hands.
“That is it. We are done. Get up , Arthur.” That pulled me to my feet quickly. I had pushed too far. “And Merlin and Morgana, the guards will meet you at the rear entrance to the castle.” She then added.
Morgana and Merlin stood, yet there was all too playful a smile on Morgana’s lips as they both spoke “Thank you, My Grace.”
I was forced to follow Guinevere out of the dining hall first, not willing to risk looking back once to Merlin nor my sister as I did.
I had indeed pushed too far. Pushed her- my wife
- too far.
••
Chapter Fourteen: The Firah Trees
Emrys
“Merlin?” Morgana called, turning to me as we walked. The sound of the three guard’s full armor was both a nuisance and an obstruction to the natural state of this forest… yet we had no choice in the matter. Arthur’s protection over his sister was understanding, yet I did not understand why he thought to believe that I would ever bring any harm to this young woman.
When he looked over at me in the dining hall, there was something there in his agitated tone that I took great offense to.
I would never, ever hurt Morgana. I could never conjure the thought to.
“Yes?” I asked, turning to her as my head dipped down in her direction. My hood had been pulled up over my head, but that was only due to the three guards that followed closely behind us, their eyes peering left and right for any signs of a threat.
“You are quite the interesting man,” she spoke with a smile, her beautiful, familiar chestnut colored eyes bringing a smile to my lips.
Oh, how she had grown .
“And you are quite the interesting woman,” I told her. “A breath of fresh air within a city overcast by such suffocating dread.”
I watched as her smile faltered some at those words, to which I immediately chastised myself for ever uttering.
“It has been… hard. Finding- fighting to come up for air has been hard after the passing of my father.” Her words had been delicate, them chosen carefully as if she were to misstep when speaking of her pain. It made me realize perhaps she never was one to speak of it before. She would voice her concerns rather openly for the things that aggravated her… but perhaps she experienced a loss for words with the things that brought her sorrow. “But this morning. In the kichene. Do you remember the first thing you said to me?” her voice was so gentle, her eyes holding my gaze for as long as they could, only casting to the path ahead for small moments to keep our feet moving forward.
“But of course,” I replied with yet another small smile as those brown eyes met my golden ones. “I believe the first thing I told you was that… that your hair should be more unkept granted the state of things. More unruly.”
And that brought a fixture for the falter in Morgana’s smile.
“No man nor woman has ever spoken those words to me before.” She admitted quietly. “I did not believe I had been in a state for any to cast their gaze upon this last fortnight, and yet when you looked at me and said those words, it was like… it was like you told me to break a little more if I saw fit.” I watched as her small hand stretched out to her side, beckoning for mine, to which I gladly slid it past my thick cloak to grab hold of hers.
I could hear the slight slice of metal as the guards behind us pulled on their swords just a slither, yet when I turned my head slowly, behind me only a slither, those sword were fully sheathed again immediately.
“Everyone in this castle has been telling me to keep it together. To pull through this loss. And yet you looked at me with eyes that told me to break again if I needed to. You did not ask me to be strong like all had been saying.” Her hand tightened itself in mine, her cool skin feeling the warmth mine brought as we walked.
“There are many things one may feel the need to dictate for others,” I returned, “but grief… grief should not be one of them. If you need to break again- if you need to break something- you have found yourself to be in some luck, for I have plans to remain here in Camelot for quite some time. And I do not mind picking up those broken shards. This skin of mine after all,” I continued, lifting our conjoined hands a moment to gesture to it, “ it does not cut through so easily. I invite you to test it at your will.“
Morgana just looked up at me a moment, her height seeing past all my hood could cloak as she smiled.
“Now,” I whispered a bit more quietly to her, “the sound of armor screeching from the guards behind us is causing my head to hurt. How would you like some distance between them and us?” I asked this beautiful young woman, to which she immediately nodded. And that was when the hand not holding hers reached up to remove the hood of my cloak, and I turned back to the guards practically stepping on our heels. “I am to bring Morgana just further up that trail. I request you three wait here.”
“But- But Sir-” the first guard spoke, his hardened face unsure.
“We will not venture far. From your position right here at the head of this hill, you will see us as we walk along the paths of bushery. The trees are not tall enough to blind your sight.”
My words may have sounded simple to Morgana, yet when each guard looked into my eyes, they stilled, nodding. Until I released them from the hold of my magick as my eyes flashed a deeper golden hue, commanding their mind, my words would be their orders to follow.
“Come along, Morgana,” I then spoke, easing my magick back into me before I looked down at her again, my face now cast in the rays of light instead of the shade of darkness. Let us see if we can find some SummerLilies ahead of their bloom.“ And Morgana simply nodded, turning back only once to make certain the guards would remain still, for she let out a light laugh and quickly followed me further down the path of this forest opening.
The irritating sound of metal clanking aimlessly against metal had finally ceased, and we could hear the lively sounds of the forest once again. The birds chirping as they took to the sky. The trees rusting from the quiet winds, their breeze just a subtle touch on what skin I had exposed. Morgana was in a beautiful yellow dress, one she had chosen to change into of her own accord, for I had told her that if she wanted to venture through the forest in her night gown, I would take no issue with it.
She had even brushed out some of her hair before we left the castle, though her deep curls fell all around her like a lion’s mane.
We had left before the King and Queen had, and though Arthur’s eyes never left ours as Morgana and I said our goodbyes before leaving them at the front of the castle, to walk to the rear entrance, I could still see that hardness in Arthur’s features. He spoke no words, however. I do not believe the Queen would favor any that would slip past his lips, therefore he allowed us to go whilst they prepared to leave for their diplomatic duties.
“Merlin?” Morgana spoke, yet she spoke more freely now that we had put some distance between ourselves and the guards.
“Yes?” I replied, looking down at the young woman again.
“The trees you spoke of this morning. The Firah … what had happened to them?”
I gestured for us to near one of the sturdy oak trees near us now, yet as I gently let go of her hand and kneeled to the forest floor some steps away from it, Morgana released a quiet gasp. I turned my head, looking up to the woman still standing. “What is it?” I asked her.
“Are… are you not afraid of dirtying your cloak?” She asked, looking down at me, to which I only smiled.
“I’m quite accustomed to the floor of the forest. And as far as I am aware, dirt is not poison, is it?” That pulled a smile from the young woman, who quickly dropped to her own knees beside me, facing the tree I had turned to gaze back towards. “A tree, much like this, can be cut at its end here,” I pointed to the trunk of the oak, “leaving in its wake a stump. This tree here will not grow back once it has been. Now what did your father tell you about magick?” I asked, turning to the young woman.
She seemed to sit with that question for some time. And when she was ready, she answered, “He did not tell me much… just that it was used for harm. To harm the citizens of Britain, so he was working to remove it from this land.”
I nodded, thinking quietly on how to explain this to her, but to do so gently. “Do you know what made the Firah tree so special?” I asked, to which she shook her head no. “It was the one tree in all the land that you could cut to a stump, and it would regrow. Sometimes tenfold. Would you like to know why?” I then asked, and she nodded quickly, those beautiful eyes filled with curiosity and fascination. “All trees have roots. This tree in front of us now has roots buried deep into the ground that pulls its life source from water and the nutrients from the soil, replenishing the tree itself… and yet that supply is not enough to sustain regrowth once it is cut down.”
I then removed my hands from my lap and rested both the palms of them onto the dirt and grass on either side of me.
“How well can you keep a secret, Ms. Morgana?” I asked the young woman.
“Not well,” she answered honestly, forcing light laughter past my lips before I could stop it.
“Your honesty becomes you. It is beautiful,” I confessed to her. “I must then ask, how well can you keep a secret of mine? “
She did not take time at all to reply “for you, I will never tell. As long as… as long as you may keep secrets of mine? If I were to tell you some?”
I nodded, assuring her. “There is nothing you will tell me that will leave my lips again for another’s ears unless you will it. You have my word.” And I could see that reassurance settle in her features. “This tree before us only exists because of the water and the nutrients in the soil. Long ago, this dirt below us held more than just moisture and nutrients. There was something else that ran through it, connecting this land.”
“Magick,” Morgana spoke quietly, to which I nodded.
“And so let us say we add just a little to the ground around us.” I whispered to her, before the word “ Valkrieni “ fell past my lips, feeling my own magick leave my hands, seeping into the forest floor just a little. I did not want to release too much, just enough for Morgana and I’s eyes. And I heard as Morgana gasped quietly, yet she did not move from my side. And when I nodded my head ahead for the young woman to see, we both watched as from within the soil, a root slowly punctured through the dirt. It was nothing more than the size of a twig, yet it sprouted small additional roots that soon bore little green leaves on each of them.
“What… what is it?” Morgana asked, her voice low in awe.
“ That is a Firah tree.“ However, once I removed my hands from the dirt, we both looked on as the tree soon shriveled away, blackening before it turned to dust. “Your father,” I whispered quietly to Morgana, feeling the sadness she felt from watching what I had created, die so quickly. “Your father focused on the devastating parts of magick. He lost himself to it so desperately, that he never again remembered the life it once brought. Magick can kill, yes, yet it can also birth… rebirth . It is a scale that those who hold it must hold in balance in order to maintain its strength.”
I then turned my head to Morgana, seeing that sadness in her eyes for myself.
“Do you understand?” I asked quietly. She gave me a slow nod. “But worry not, little one. My purpose for my placement here is to see to it that one beautiful young woman I know with those untamed curls of hers can see a Firah tree grow again to heights she could never imagine. The heights I spoke of this morning.”
And the smile Morgana’s lips pulled into, as she finally turned her head towards me, placed a smile on my own. “Then I shall see to it that you remain in Camelot, Merlin.”
Though this beautiful young woman and I spent quite some time exploring, looking for our SummerLilies, we did not find any that had spouted prematurely, and I knew that the King and Queen would soon return, asking for us.
Eventually, and awfully reluctantly in regards to Morgana, I led us back to the soldiers, allowing them to escort us out of the forest.
“Can we return?” Morgana asked, looking up at me past the hood that had returned itself now that we were in the company of the guards.
I gave her a nod. “King Arthur is correct, he and I have much to do before Firah’s can grow again, yet I will see to it that I make time for you, too. We will return to pick the SummerLilies then you and I can steep some tea from them.” Morgana grinned at my words, and slipped her hand in mine once more as we walked. Yet as we neared the very entrance of the forest, my feet slowed to a stop. The young woman looked at me questioningly as I gently let go of her hand, and even more questioningly when I bent down to my feet and started to remove my sandals.
“What are you doing?” she asked me.
“The grass is rich up ahead,” I gestured to the open field that stretched between us and the castle. “What do you say we feel it beneath our feet a moment?” When my eyes cast up to Morgana, she had the widest grinned stretched across her beautiful features. Then she immediately bent down to remove her own sandals, placing both shoes in her hands as I did.
“Sir… Ms. Morgana… I do not believe the King would-”
I reached for Morgana’s shoes before handing her pair and my own to the guard who had opened his mouth first. “I ask you see to it these are returned to us. Thank you.” And the guard simply took it without question as that look of defeat settled in his eyes.
“Well, come along then, Merlin!” Morgana laughed, already taking those hurried steps into the open field, to which I joined her quickly. She had burst into a steady sprint, yet I kept her pace with ease, enjoying the feeling of the blades beneath my bare feet as we ran. I watched her dress flow within the wind, adding to her elegance and beauty as her curls welcomed the breeze of this open field. Her direction was not quite towards the castle, at least not yet. She veered left slightly, those curls following her as did I, before she veered right.
I had gotten so lost in watching them, in watching the flow of her dress as she moved freely, that I had not noticed any man leave the back of the castle, heading towards the stables.
Her laugh was something that pulled from me laughter of my own as she enjoyed herself out in this open field with the soon setting sun guiding our path. She had remained in that castle for far too long, I could see it now. And she was not a woman who deserved to be caged. The blood that ran through her yearned to feel the touch of nature, as did all who possessed what she had, and I would make certain to see to it that she would always feel this free…
Yet our pace did finally slow when we saw who it was that had reached the entrance to the stable, watching us with a rather rigid face. Once Morgana and I neared him, we slowed to a rather modest walk, anticipating the very pointed words he would have for us both.
“You… You have returned, Arthur.” Morgana spoke, slowing to a stop as I joined her at her side.
King Arthur was still in his full armor from when he was soon to take his leave for the Council, yet his face looked worn some. The day had taken its toll on the young King’s handsome features. Morgana and I gave him a respectful bow, the smile once on both our faces completely erased now without a trace.
“And what exactly is this?” he asked as those light eyes shifted between his sister and I. Then his gaze settled lower, first on our dirtied clothes, then on our dirtied feet. “And where is-”
His next question must have been answered by the loud clanking of metal as the three guards behind us had finally caught up. I could hear their labored breaths behind Morgana and I.
“M-My King,” the first guard more or less panted, “You… you have returned.”
“Yes,” Arthur answered sharply. “Indeed I have. May I ask why these two are barefoot? “
“My King, he-”
“I insisted,” I spoke, though my eyes now held Arthur’s gaze clearly, my hood having fallen to my shoulders whilst Morgana and I enjoyed the open field.
Arthur grew quiet a moment. The hardness of his features did not subside, not even when he finally spoke again. “Guards, escort Morgana in. Make sure she washes up before supper.”
“Y-Yes, Your Highness,” another spoke, as all three insisted for the young woman to follow them.
“And whichever one of you has Merlin’s shoes, hand them to me.” Arthur added, to which another guard slowed to pass them into the King’s outstretched hand.
I could only watch as the guards and Morgana continued on towards the castle. She had looked back once, her eyes lowering with some sadness, but I gave her a knowing smile to which I saw a glimpse of her retuning before a guard’s large build shielded her from my sight.
“No punishment should come to her,” I told Arthur when my eyes returned to the tall man with a hardened face. Those light eyes held nothing but fury, yet he broke our gaze to take some steps towards the stable, and he yanked the door open, only saying two words to me.
“ Get inside .“
••
Chapter Fifteen: A Position To Uphold
Arthur
“Then if we are to expand the southern region, develop the crop there, that would in due time support the people in the Villages of Crutir, working to end the famine sweeping through that sovereign-”
“Yes,” I had nodded firmly, giving my approval.
“And I believe wheat crop will grow in those open fields, though rain has not-”
“Yes,” I had nodded again. “I believe it to be true. Thank you Councilman.”
The older man had given me a firm nod before taking his seat at this large rounded table, hollowed in the middle for its next speaker to stand in. Before the next could move from his chair, however, Guin had leant herself closer to my side and whispered “ Stop this nonsense, Arthur. Allow the men to speak, and refrain from rushing this meeting along any longer. We shall take our leave once discussions are completed in their entirety. Morgana will be just fine with Merlin.“ She then insisted. Her words were doused in contempt, disapproving of my rather rash actions this day.
And it did not help that I was then crippled with hunger, my stomach burning, begging for but even a crumb. Guinevere had taken from me any opportunity to continue my breakfast once she had pulled that plate away, holding steady, fast, and true to her words of us being finished in that dining hall.
Now, after one lengthy discussion with the Council, determining our approach on the famine in the smaller villages, a discussion I should have been more present with my mind for, Guinevere and I had finally reached the entrance of the castle again.
“Your actions have been despicable this day, Arthur.” Guinevere scolded coldly as I escorted her inside the doors of our home, accepting the courteous and respectful bows from the guards that had welcomed us upon our return.
“I apologize, My Love,” I spoke as my voice took a more apologetic tone. One I hoped would ease her anger some.
She only scoffed. “Go. See if Morgana and Merlin have returned. The sun will soon set, and I wish to freshen myself before supper.”
“Yes, My Love,” I nodded, turning to face her in the entrance hall of the castle.
“And let me just say, King Arthur, if you so much as utter a word unapproving of I during this supper, you will be sleeping in the stables come nightfall, have I made myself perfectly clear?” Anger and irritation spread through her entire being, delivering an essence that could be felt damned near through this entire castle as the two guards near us at the entrance remained perfectly still. I could not confirm whether they had taken a single breath since we had entered.
“Yes, My Love,” I gave her one slow, assured nod. Even with all that anger, my wife held such unimaginable amounts of grace and poise as she turned swiftly on her heel, the long, red cape attached at her shoulders flowing with her, and I watched the crest of the Pendragons sway with the rich silk material as she stalked towards the back stairwell.
I dared not take a single step till she had fully disappeared, with worry she may have had some additional pointed words to let past those full lips. Luckily, that did not seem to be the case. I stood true to believe the words she had said on the entire journey of our return had been far more than enough for me to understand where I had gone wrong.
Once I confirmed it was safe to, I headed towards the back entrance of the castle for I knew Morgana had not returned yet. The castle would have been bursting at its seams with either her laughter, or her incessant complaints. In addition, Morgana would always greet me on my return to the castle, it was a habit she had remained true to since we were just children.
Once my hand pushed the door to the rear entrance open, those confident first steps slowed to an almost complete stop as I noticed two individuals running from the entrance to the forest. I would have unsheathed my sword, suspecting danger, yet as I willed my feet to move again, taking those long strides towards the stables, my fear very quickly turned to irritation. Unwarranted irritation, possibly, yet irritation no less.
The two I now witnessed cutting through the open field was none other than Merlin and Morgana, both their laughter carrying through that gentle breeze as they ran. I did not quite know how to manage what I felt, yet when I heard Merlin’s laughter- when his hood fell back onto his shoulders and I witnessed nothing other than pure blissful enjoyment etched into a face I believed to always remain stoic, it took time for me to settle my agitation.
The two were now nearing closer to the castle, which was when they had finally caught sight of me near the entrance to the stables, and that was when their feet finally slowed.
Guinevere had made her stance quite known about how she faired with my agitation… and yet… seeing Merlin and Morgana like this…
Perhaps I did not heed my wife’s warning as best as I should have.
“ Get inside .“ I told Merlin, my voice now firm and tight with the greatest amount of disdain etched into it. Merlin looked to me a moment, yet he said nothing as his bare, dirt ridden feet carried him inside the stables before I followed, closing the door firmly behind us with the hand not holding his leather strapped sandals in them.
“What is it, Arthur?” Merlin asked, turning to me, yet I gestured for him to continue further inside, ignoring the stirring of the few horses resting in their stalls.
“ Sit ,“ I then gestured to the large bale of hay that was stacked upon another against the side of the stable wall, at the end of the horses stalls. Merlin accepted my command, yet his gaze never left mine. I could still feel that gaze as I turned, reaching behind some crates for a large metal bucket that held a brush inside, and a clean cloth from the the pile we kept folded against the back wall, before I placed the cloth over my shoulder, and took the bucket towards the open tap. It only took a few pumps to fill it about three quarters with water. The silence between Merlin and I were filled with the rusting of the animals amongst us, however once I finally returned to this sorcerer, setting the bucket and his shoes near his feet, words were finally uttered between us twp.
“I apologize,” Merlin spoke far more quietly, yet sincerely. “I only wanted for Morgana to enjoy hersel- Arthur… Arthur? What are you -”
Still in my full armor, I had taken a knee in front of the sitting sorcerer and reached for his muddied right foot first.
“Arthur- Arthur!” Merlin hissed . “Remove yourself from the ground at once. I can take care of this myself.”
“ Settle yourself, Merlin ,“ I snapped at him, my gaze shifting up sharply as my light eyes found his golden ones in this low glow of light from the otherwise closed stable. He had tried to move his foot again, yet I caught it within my callused hands, holding it firm.
“Arthur, I mean it , pull yourself from the ground, this is not fitting for a King to-”
“And what is equally unfitting, Merlin , is for my scholar to be running through the open fields barefoot, while my trusted guards carry his shoes.” My words were cold as I glanced up at him again before placing his right foot into the filled bucket. Then I reached inside for the brush soaking at the bottom of it and brought it to the side of his foot.
Merlin remained quiet for some time as I began to scrub the dirt and grass off.
“It was you ,” I continued into that silence, “who told me we each have a position to uphold.” I refused to look up to him now as I spoke, with fear I would cease this lecture entirely. “I have taken your words for truth. I believe it is you who must do the same.” Though my tone was rough, coarse with anger, I remained gentle with his slender foot as I brushed it, careful not to irritate the skin with the hardened bristles.
And after some moments, Merlin finally spoke. “You are correct, my King. It… it will not happen again.” He told me this with a tone of seriousness that granted him my gaze as I finally looked to him once more. His gaze was cast elsewhere, to the side of us as his hands lay palm down on the bales of hay. “I did not mean to anger you. Those were not my intentions.”
“And what exactly were your intentions?” I asked, though my tone had settled into something gentler, as did my anger, as I watched him. “What are your intentions… with Morgana?”
Merlin finally pulled his gaze from the floor of the stables to look at me. “I merely wish to see her filled with joy. She… she reminds me of someone. From when I was younger. Before the- before The Great War.”
The hesitancy in his words caused my hands to slow their work, yet his gaze remained, holding my own. I had not… I had not expected…
“Is this why you smile when you are around her?” I asked him, to which he slowly nodded. Whatever anger left in me, subsided completely, dissipating as if it were never there to begin with. “I… I just… I am not used to witnessing you smile. Or laugh. I thought you not to be capable. At least… I have not seen it when you are in my company.”
Merlin’s eyebrows furrowed some. “Is this then what this is about?” He asked me gently. “Your anger… certainly it does not stem from my happiness with Morgana as opposed to my happiness in your company?”
My eyes quickly returned to my work at hand, refusing to meet his gaze now, nor look upon features he had no right to bear so handsomely. “Well when you put those words together in such a way…”
It took but a moment before I heard the faintest chuckles, and when my curiosity forced my gaze upon Merlin, I could see the most beautiful smile spreading quickly upon his lips as he struggled to gather his light laughter. And in return, I felt a smile quickly stretch across my own.
I had been foolish , I thought to myself as I gently set his right foot into the bucket along with the brush, before my hands moved to his black trousers to roll them up further. Truly foolish .
“Arthur,” Merlin said, his voice still gentle, “I smile and laugh with Morgana because it is freeing in her company.” That made me look up at him again quickly, tensing from his words as I caught the fragile gaze he held with me now. “She… she does not carry the burden of the throne. We do all have positions to adhere to, however, and when I am in your company, I am reminded of such. While Morgana has a much better sense of humor, yes-”
“Choose your next words rather carefully, sorcerer,” I muttered, pulling from him yet another soft, beautiful chuckle, which made me smile yet again.
“The world you and I are to create is what I have dreamed of for many years.” Merlin admitted quietly to me. His voice was perhaps the most gentle I had ever heard it now. “It may not manifest itself into a laugh or smile when I am with you, for there are many roadblocks ahead for you and I… but it is what will bring me true happiness. I wish for a world where there were more who could share that free spirit Morgana holds. And that is directly tied to you and your work.”
The relief that settled into my bones from his words was almost startling. So much so, I had not paid much attention to what I was doing with my hands when they returned themselves to Merlin’s foot, until I started to brush the bottom of his foot all too lightly, and the immediate laughter Merlin broke into as he tried to reach for my hands almost startled me.
“W-Wait- wait- Arthur- wait! Stop this- you are tickling me-” he said through bouts of laughter that made my heart stir completely in ways I could not describe. He bent down and tried to reach for me again, yet I found myself dropping the brush into the bucket, and using that hand to first lift his foot up, then push the man back with it. His leg bent at the knee as he fell backwards onto the bale of hay.
I had stood, myself, to place my left knee on the bale, holding both I and my armor above him by my hand near his head, as I kept him in this position with my hand remaining on his wet foot.
Merlin seemed fully taken aback by my actions, yet he was still trying to settle his unexpected laughter, and for those few moment we may have been granted like this… I wanted to relish in it. To enjoy his playfulness as Morgana had.
“Arthur,” the sorcerer spoke with a smile, the laughter having finally subsided. “What are you doing?”
“I appreciated your words,” I told him far more quietly with a slight smile of my own. I could openly gaze upon all his utterly ethereal , simply divine features being this close, just an arm’s length away. I could see those beautiful, golden eyes so completely. The pale complexion of his skin… That fiery red hair scattered across the bale of hay with pieces of the straw embedding themselves into the soft strands. And… and-
And those lips… lips tinted red…
“I… find it utterly ridiculous they ever needed to be said,” he replied, though his tone was- it was different now. I wondered if he could see the ways in which I was slowly mapping a trail from one beautiful feature of his to the next. I wondered if… if he had ever perhaps done the same to me- if there were features of mine that enthralled him quite like this.
And I… well, I wondered most of all just how long he had been watching me all these years for. How long he knew of me before I, him. Whether there was… perhaps something more there with him.
“I would like…” my voice came out in the quietest of whisperers as the hand still holding his foot, slowly slid slightly further up the back of his firm heel, to the exposed skin from the material I had folded up. “… I would like for you to laugh more in my presence. So, I will do my best to be both that freeing comfort you find with Morgana, and the stability you have attached yourself to with I, as we build a better Kingdom… I wish to see the Camelot you have dreamed of all these years.”
Merlin’s smile had started to fade, yet this was not from his own happiness slipping. I heard it now as my hand slowly moved even further up his bare, warm skin, feeling the indescribable softness of it. I heard the more shallow breathes he was taking as he was not bothering to steady them any longer. His lips had parted only slightly, and when his warm eyes slowly shifted from mine to just a bit lower, to something I wished that in this very moment, he would decide to act upon… I found myself doing just as he, hoovering my gaze steadily over those tinted lips again. I questioned whether they might be as soft as was the rest of him.
His skin… I thought to myself, recalling the touch that still lingered from the old cottage. My hand could not stop itself from slowly shifting higher now to his calf, feeling more of him than I had ever felt, before my fingers could feel where the folded material started…
Yet all was lost to us with this moment once we heard the rear door to the castle shut some distance away, startling us out of this serenity.
••
Chapter Sixteen: Commitment To What Was To Come
Emrys
Arthur climbed off of this bale of hay and distanced himself from me quickly, so swiftly I had barely registered his movements until he gently placed my foot into the metal bucket and raised from the ground.
“Arthur!” We heard the voice of an older woman call, some steps away.
“It is- it is Gisela, I believe she is to remind us of supper, but I will go meet with her.” Arthur spoke, gazing down at me as I pulled myself up from my position on my back. My mind was fighting against the current to relieve itself of the haze that it had just found itself in, yet I still gave the man a nod, reaching over for the cloth that had seemingly fallen from Arthur to the side of the hay bale, so I could dry off the first foot to which Arthur thoroughly had cleaned.
“I will… I will finish here, then meet you and the others inside for supper.” My eyes now all but refused to find Arthur’s. I focused instead on strapping my since dried foot into the sandal, yet it was Arthur who supposedly was not done quite yet.
“Merlin,” he called to me, still standing only a few steps away.
“Yes?” I asked, looking up at him.
“I had meant what I said. About it all.” His voice sounded rather serious, which in turn forced my hands to slow their work on the leather straps of the sandal. “I had meant all of it.”
“Very well. Now go ,” I insisted, unable to mask the slight smile on my lips as I returned to strapping the damned shoe on. Then I set my left foot inside the water bucket and continued what it was that Arthur had so unexpectedly started. And once I heard the doors to the stable open, then close, my lungs pushed out a breath I had been holding during the entirety of Arthur’s departure.
It… it would not have been fitting of the King to be found washing another’s feet , I told myself. This was my reasoning, my justification for why the man and I had moved so quickly. I told myself that it was not at all in relation to what we had done- rather what we had not…
But if granted time-
“ No ,“ I whispered to myself with a harsh degree of discomposure. Then I forced myself to banish those thoughts from my mind in their entirety, refusing to overlook the destruction even that simple thought could have on this Kingdom. It did not matter what almost did or did not, the fact remained was that nothing had happened, and nothing could ever.
“So, how was your time out with Morgana?” Guinevere asked me just as I entered the dining hall. The Queen and the King had already been seated, yet it would seem they had awaited Morgan’s and I’s arrival before taking supper. “She is just washing up; she should be down soon.” Guinevere informed me.
I had been rather late with joining for I had decided to at the very least clean my cloak before coming before the King and Queen, which required me to return to my chamber for a degree of privacy. I was also tasked with the tedious process of removing every straw of hay from my hair that had wedged themselves into the red strands of their own accord, merging with them fully while further reminding myself of the moments in that stable with Arthur.
Moments that should not have been.
Moments that were not . For they would not be ever spoken of again.
“It was lovely,” I answered Guinevere instead, taking to the seat across the table from her, at the left side of the King, as she sat on his right. The hood of my cloak was pulled over my head yet I could see both their gazes upon me. More particularly, I could feel the gaze of Arthur, his light eyes watching me rather intensely as if those eyes could anticipate my next words. “How was your meeting with the councilmen?” I then asked.
Guinevere’s eyes shifted sharply to her husband with a great degree of disdain before she replied, “it was… a meeting… of the sorts. The King here had his mind rooted elsewhere for a great majority of the time, however work has progressed. At this moment, our first position is to address the famine spreading through Britain. If the people are to accept our rule, they must trust our leadership.”
I nodded immediately at the Queen’s wise words, however my contempt for the King only grew with each word spoken. It soured the words uttered by him in those stables, for the Camelot I dreamt of would never come to be if Arthur did not take his duties as matters of grave importance.
If he did not take the title I had worked to grant him, with seriousness.
“I have since apologized,” Arthur spoke quietly to his wife, yet her words were biting with her response.
“Words will mean nothing , Arthur. Just as your words have meant nothing , our words will mean nothing to this nation. They want to see our dedication in our actions, and so I will ask the same of you-”
Before the Queen could finish with those scolding words, we heard the door to the dining hall open.
“My apologies!” Morgana rushed as she entered through the frame of the heavy-set door, her appearance now far from the unruly state she had been in upon our return to the castle.
I stood from my chair immediately as she entered, turning to reach for the backrest of the wooden chair beside me before I pulled it out from the table for the young woman to take a seat. Morgana granted me the most beautiful smile, ushering a “thank you” as she lowered herself onto the chair, and I pushed it back in comfortably for her.
“How was your day, Morgana?” Guinevere asked with a smile, whilst Arthur eyed both his sister and I rather carefully. His gaze had seemingly never left me… or perhaps it had only felt as if it hadn’t due to the intensity of it.
“It was so lovely! Merlin knows such a great deal about the forest, he positioned himself as my trusted guide. We did not find our SummerLilies, though I did not care. I appreciated my companion far more.” Morgana turned, looking up at me slightly as I returned to my chair with a smile, and I sent her a wink beneath my hood which made her release a soft fit of giggles.
Arthur cleared his throat almost immediately. “Yes,” he nodded to his younger sister, “Merlin is quite well versed with many aspects. I will need to lean on his guidance however, Morgana, so he cannot spend many days in that forest with you.”
“I believe that decision should be finalized once you have assessed whether I am incapable of doing both. When I find myself with time, I would very much like to join Morgana in search of the SummerLilies. Does that satisfy you, Your Grace? “
“ Yes ,“ Guinevere’s words fell before Arthur’s could. “I believe that is a just request. And I further believe that our King will bless such a request, will you not? “
Arthur seemed conflicted by his wife’s request, and yet he found himself nodding, accepting defeat from a woman who was seemingly prepared to force him out of her chamber come nightfall if he hadn’t.
“Beautiful!” Morgana exclaimed beside me, causing me to smile once again. It appeared that the King had found himself in a particular situation, one where his words held very little wight when faced with Guinevere’s.
And I welcomed that this evening. I had grown tired with this man’s involvement in matters that did not pertain to the throne. I would not overstep the boundaries we had laid in that stable- I would not misuse his guards, and I would continue to uphold my position as his scholar… and if he had meant even a fraction of his words said to me there… he would act accordingly.
Supper was taken and finished. Morgana had wished to walk me through the castle’s library, though I unfortunately requested this night find me early.
I needed to tend to my companions- to understand what information they had gathered whilst slithering through the very withering cracks in the walls of the aged castle itself. And once those within the castle took their rest, I would begin to walk the halls of my own accord, listening closely for the voices that whispered within the confines of the night.
Morgana did not take to my reasons for declining well, though I assured her that I would fine time come morning to do as such with her, and that had seemed to rest the young woman’s vibrant yet troubled emotions.
Guinevere requested an early evening herself with her husband, though Arthur seemed somewhat reluctant to comply. He had requested my company in his study but I firmly declined, and that was when Guinevere insisted Arthur join her. That he let whatever work he was to do, rest, just as she wished to do herself.
I had decided that outside the confines of work, he and I would not find ourselves another moment alone together. There had been far too many to begin with, something I no longer trusted this man with. He had shown me he could not be trusted, and trust was something he was to earn.
I had been the one to have so foolishly given it.
I had… I had allowed what I had observed for so many years, to murk my judgement now…
As soon as I returned to my own chamber, I was greeted by the comfort of my slithering companions, yet I could sense their immediate judgement. The scent of the King lingered on my skin, something they did not take kindly to. I could feel their hesitancy to feed from me, but this was a requirement between them and I- something they could not survive without.
I had then decided I would spend this night putting myself back in their good graces. I was to lean on their support in the coming days, which required me to regain their own trust.
After they had had their fill from my blood, I brought this vessel into a rested state, prepared to re-enter that portion of darkness that existed between this realm and death itself, sitting comfortably on this bed as I closed my eyes a moment, and tucking my magick away before allowing that of him to gradually consume me.
Allowing that brazen darkness to engulf my burning soul whole.
And the very first thing I heard as I slipped from the land of the living into the In Between, was the painful, terror-filled cries of the darkened, scorched soul belonging to the once King. Uther Pendragon.
“Please!” He begged, sensing my presence as I passed through the darkness with great ease. “I will offer you whatever your heart desires! Please- please, just let me rest!”
“You do not deserve rest, Uther.” I whispered to him quietly. “For as long as my soul remains with me… yours shall remain here, burning .” I then reached forward, surround his soul in more anguish as the magick allowed by him cut through the darkness.
“I-… I can give you the kingdom!”
“That is no longer yours to give.” I answered simply, sending more fire straight through his soul, to which the once King bellowed out in pure agony.
This night would, yet again, become a long one.
I remained centered in the In Between for the duration of the night, utilizing much of my own magick to keep me there far longer than his would, yet as the morning hours were soon upon this land, I was forced to return to my vessel in hopes of replenishing what was used.
I had barely just regained the consciousness of my own body when I heard a faint knock at the door to this chamber. My companions slithered under the bed quickly, tucking themselves away as I managed to lift my worn self from the bed to answer the knock. My hands reached for the hood of my cloak and pulled over my head, masking more of my tired eyes before I opened the door.
I had not known what to expect… yet it still brought me a great deal of surprise to find none other than Arthur standing before me.
“What is it you doing here?” I whispered quietly to him. He was now dressed in a white cotton shirt with sleeves he had rolled up those muscular arms, and dark trousers, surprising even I by how early he had managed to rise.
“Come join me for breakfast in the dining hall.” He spoke as his light eyes studied me a moment, before he turned to leave.
“I will do no such-” I had started my response, however Arthur did not accept such a rejection.
“ That is an order ,“ I heard him reply with as he fully took his leave, leaving me standing at the door of my chamber with no clear path in sight to remove myself from the King’s, it would seem.
And so… I reluctantly prepared myself to join him for breakfast, assuring my mind that the only words to be uttered between us as we ate would be in regard to this Kingdom.
Nothing more.
I knew my companions were questioning my choices- my commitment to what was to come, yet granted the present state of Uther Pendragon and his tortured soul, I had done just as they requested. I had upheld my end of the bargain after all these years… and I would continue to do as such for as long as it would take The In Between to eat away at him.
Until his soul was nothing more than a faint, decrepit thought, floating amidst the darkness for the rest of eternity, his energy depleted enough where no words could speak. He could feel nothing else, only that suffering .
My entanglement with Arthur, however, was something I could not avoid now. Not only did I need his position on the throne to remain, I needed his trust . As I prepared this vessel for the day it would need to manage through, I thought of the possible ways I could still keep my distance from the Royal while ensuring he kept to his duties…
For whatever had occurred in that stable the day before would not happen again.
It was… it was a moment of weakness- a moment where I had forgotten myself- and I would not allow it again.
I made my way within the castle towards the dining hall, yet as I passed through the large open door, noting Arthur already seated at the head of the long table, his voice startled me somewhat.
“Close the door behind you.”
And rather unfortunately, I did as I was pointedly ordered to, closing that heavyset door slowly before soon taking those necessary steps to join Arthur on his left side at the table.
“Remove your hood,” he ordered yet again, and once more, I did as I was ordered to. I had accepted his request to remove it whenever he and I had found ourselves in the company of only one another, yet now… after our time in the stables, much had changed.
Food had no yet been brought to the dining hall, yet Arthur had requested a second glass where he poured some water from the glass pitcher for me. I gave him a firm nod as a thank you before raising the glass to my lips.
“Did you not find sleep?” He asked. I had known my face would appear worn, but I attempted to exhibit some energy in hopes I would not concern him.
He need not ever know what would now be occupying many of my nights.
“No,” I answered with the truth.
“May I ask why? Is there something comforting you would like to request to your chamber?”
“No,” I shook my head quickly. “I shall find her this night.”
Arthur’s gaze never lifted itself from me. “You and I are to prepare for The Hunt this day- to map out the paths to be taken by our participants. If you are to grow tired-”
“I will do the work expected of me,” I told him with a great degree of seriousness as my tired, golden eyes finally met his alert light ones.
Arthur remained silent, though he gave me a short nod and reached for his own glass of water.
When he did finally speak, I very quickly grew to mourn the silence that had temporarily settled between us. His next words caused myself to start choking lightly on the small sip I took of the water.
“Then let us now discuss the conversation that was had in the stables between us. The conversation that was far from over.”
Those words alone almost caused me to drop the very glass still in my hand, startling me rather suddenly out of that once so comforting silence.
••
Chapter Seventeen: For Something Else May Have Changed
Arthur
Sleep had eventually found me… and yet she brought much misfortune with her for the duration of this night. More so than she had any other. My body remained restless, my mind torn between the calming realm of dreamworld and the tumultuous land of the living. It forced me to think of the things that plagued my thoughts so heavily while all I myself craved was a moment of rest. To simply close my eyes and be, not think.
The blatant dismissal of Merlin the night before had stirred the greatest irritation from within me. He had almost disregarded the time we had shared together within that stable, treating it as nothing more than a moment spent in passing between us…
And I found it, at best, infuriating.
I could tell he did not fare well with Guinevere’s less than pleased affection towards me. And though I had wished she would not speak so freely of my shortcomings, I had no choice in the matter at the table we sat at for supper.
I had disappointed her.
Greatly .
And I had disappointed him
- Merlin- in ways I could not foresee to be so drastic. I saw distrust in those golden eyes when Merlin cast a bitter glance my way over supper. Those words I had told him in the stable had not correlated with my actions amongst the Council, and with the words my dear Guin chose at supper, about how our vision must be rooted in action
s not only what was spoken by tongue, I had arose before dawn with a newly found determination to prove that my mind and heart were in agreeance to this sorcerer.
To have him trust that I would create that utterly tranquil, beautiful world he had described to me.
A world where, perhaps, I would be granted the chance to see him smile more whilst in my company.
For now, however, I knew it to be that he and I were far from that opportunity. Farther than we were before that opportunity in the stable.
Once morning approached, and my restlessness defeated all worthy attempts I had made at finding sleep, I decided to rise from this bed as a whole.
I decided that I would work to mend what I had broken by my actions with the Council the day prior, when my mind was clouded with thoughts of one particular man spending his time alone in the company of another.
In the company of one who made him smile far more than I ever had.
Morgana.
Due to my unrest for the duration of the night, Guin had long since pulled from me that slender arm that had once wrapped itself around my waist as we settled into the bed together, and moved herself to the other side of the bed. She had awoken once during the night to ask if anything was to trouble me so greatly- if there was something she may do to help with my rest- but I assured her that it was only the weight of what was to come. Of the work that was to come, which troubled my mind.
I had insisted that she find some rest herself, so I took no offense to the distance she had put between us in her- our bed, to avoid my constant stirring.
It did not help that the abundance of thick, fluffed sheets of this bed pulled me in like a large wave of salty water rushing the sandy coast from an enraged sea, suffocating me as it brought me under.
That distance between her and I had allowed myself to carefully slip from the bed. I had taken clothing from our armoire before leaving our chamber entirely to head towards the bathing room. The halls were darkened, with little light coming through the windows at the end of each hall due to the sun not taking to the sky just yet, and the few guards that made their way through the castle were close to their dismissal, allowing them to rest as the guards who roamed the castle during daylight would soon rise to take their place.
I did not spend much time in that bathing room for I had wanted to arrive at Merlin’s chamber at the earliest possible moment, however as I stared at the young, beautiful, yet clearly exhausted man now sitting before me at this dining table… his elegant, golden eyes were worn, the skin beneath them slightly darkened as it contrasted with his fair skin.
Every single part of my being had felt concern for his current state. I had ordered him to join me this morning… yet it was now when I felt the regret of doing so. Perhaps I should have allowed him rest longer, though it seemed as if sleep had not found him at all.
“Did you not find sleep?” I finally asked, voicing my thoughts and studying his face as it was now fully exposed to me with his hood resting against his shoulders.
Another order I had given, yet it was he who had sworn he would not wear it when it was just the two of us. I did not favour how much of his face was concealed by it.
I could see that Merlin had attempted to bring more life to his features from such a question, but it did not fool me. The expression my own features settled into must have revealed to him just that.
“No,” I then heard him answer truthfully as he allowed some of that poorly crafted façade to finally fall.
“May I ask why?” I questioned rather quickly. “Is there something comforting you would like to request to your chamber?”
Gisela had assured us that Merlin’s chamber was suited with the finest sheets for his bed- that the room itself would bring the sorcerer nothing but comfort… and now I questioned whether she was still indeed correct.
“No,” he shook his head swiftly. “I shall find her this night.”
I knew there had not been a moment since he seated himself at this table, when my gaze fully pulled away from him, but there was no helping my concern. My worry. “You and I are to prepare for The Hunt this day- to map out the paths to be taken by our participants. If you are to grow tired-”
“I will do the work expected of me,” he told me with far more of a bite in his words as those exquisite golden eyes finally met my light ones.
I did not know how to respond to such a sudden shift in tone. I was to insist that if he were to grow tired, he could surely find his rest, however perhaps that would offend the young sorcerer more, so I remained silent and simply gave him a short, curt nod before reaching for my own glass of water.
That sudden silence then hung between us for more than just a brief moment as I thought best of what to say next. This silence could not stay between us long, I would not allow it. I had not chosen to awaken at such a time and order this man to join me, only for us to sit here with no words spoken between us. I had not made this decision for nothing.
And so, after I felt that I had had my fill of such a torturous silence… I finally found suitable words to speak.
“Then let us now discuss the conversation that was had in the stables between us… The conversation that was far from over.”
Those words alone forced a sudden coughing fit from Merlin as his fingers fumbled to first bring the glass of water they held, to the table, so he could bring that very hand to his mouth in the shape of a fist, covering his mouth with it while he cleared his throat.
I waited patiently for what this unfathomably handsome man would say next, and yet the words he chose made my chest tighten with great, pure discomfort.
“There is nothing to discuss,” he told me in a bitter, cold tone, and while those words were released like daggers, I still did not believe them. I did not believe he fully believed them either.
“There is,” I insisted. “I can see things have… changed between us-”
“ Nothing has changed,“ Merlin’s words cut through my own. “There was no… change .”
I watched Merlin even more closely now- those eyes of his as his gaze quickly fell from mine to the glass of water placed in front of him on the table. My eyebrows furrowed slightly, unsure of how to proceed, especially as Merlin then refused to look at me again.
“I… I had promised you that I would dedicate myself to this work- to build the Camelot you spoke of.” My voice was more gentle as I spoke, all but begging for those golden eyes to return to mine.
I could not determine what this young sorcerer was thinking, however I refused to allow this rift between us to expand.
“I understand my actions during said meeting with the Council has broken that faith, and so I would like for us to spend this day determining where that- where your dream starts. Where we should plant that first seed. I do not wish to see that distrust in your eyes with me again.”
Merlin’s gaze quickly snapped up to mine once more, returning those golden irises in my direction.
“… Oh.” He whispered quietly before shifting a slight bit in that chair. He had seemed almost… taken aback by my words. “That was… what you had…” that last broken sentence was more of a whisper, a sentence my eyes fell to those tinted red lips to read more carefully for I could barely hear him.
Then my eyebrows furrowed slightly further. “What did you… what was it you assumed I-” I started in a more hushed tone myself, yet I cut my words abruptly short. Then my eyes found their way slowly from his lips to his eyes, my own heartbeat starting to quicken as realization spread through me, and Merlin cast his glance back to the water on the dining table.
“Let us then beginning the preparations for The Hunt,” he spoke, attempting to push forward with my proposal… but I refused to allow this particular, settled realization to simply pass.
“Did you… did you believe that… that something else may have… changed?
“ I asked far more delicately . “ Between us? Between you and-“
“ No , Arthur.“ Merlin spoke firm, though his gaze never lifted from the glass. “We… we are not to discuss-”
“Then there is something to discuss then?” My words interrupted his.
“ No .“ He confirmed yet again.
“When I… when I washed your feet-”
“ No ,“ Merlin more or less insisted now. I watched as his gaze fell further from that glass to his lap.
“When I….” I paused for a moment, accustoming my body to the rate my heart now beat at as I watched Merlin shift slightly in that chair again. “When I… touched you-”
“ N-No ,“ Merlin attempted to insist, and yet that single word fell past his lips staggered. I could only watch as the fair, pale skin of his face had started to take on a little more color. His eyes were starting to brighten slightly, and I very soon after felt it.
The unnatural warmth engulfing the space around us in this dining hall.
“When I…” I continued, unable to stop myself now, “when I touched more of you… the… softness of your skin-”
My words were not cut short by his own this time. They were cut short by the sound of the wooden chair being pushed back suddenly and forcefully by Merlin as he abruptly stood. “I am to- to go draw a bath.” He spoke, still refusing to look at me as his gaze remained downward towards the table while I glanced up at him.
“But breakfast has not been-”
“You may take it alone.” Merlin’s words were sharp. Rigid. Assertive . “I will meet with you in your study after you are finished, to prepare for The Hunt.”
I had wanted nothing more than to order him to sit back down… but I decided against it. What had just… transpired , had created a reaction from this sorcerer that, while intense, felt beyond exhilarating.
“So be it,” I found myself nodding, granting him a formal dismissal. Then I watched as Merlin reached up for his hood to pull it over, concealing much of himself before he swiftly took his leave.
I was very soon left alone in this large dining hall… and yet the very thing that lingered was the warmth that had spread throughout the room.
Something brought upon by Merlin.
The thought alone brought a smile to my own lips as I awaited breakfast to be served, welcoming the warmth he had created with the warmth that had quickly travelled through every part of my body.
Taking breakfast alone had allowed myself to sit with my thoughts.
The Hunt would soon be approaching, bringing with it the anxious feeling of how this transition of power would be accepted- if it were to be accepted at all.
My father had kept this annual celebration with structure, assuring the safety of the Pendragons and the castle itself, which was a must to be upheld, regardless of the strain it would place on the guards and the castle’s servants.
I had my reservations about how the Council would accept the change Merlin spoke of, yet I knew that if Guin and I could enact a sound resolution for the well being of this land’s citizens, the gradual acceptance of reintroducing safety for those who may hold magick would surely come.
The act of maintaining balance between those touched by something powerful, and those who were not.
It had existed before- I knew it to exist in other realms even now… and yet I did not have the clearest direction on how to reintroduce it to Camelot, then eventually all of Britain.
These thoughts were what carried me quickly through my meal, allowing Gisela to remove my dishes while I excused myself to my study.
The sun had barely taken to the sky, meaning there was still some time remaining before Guin would awaken. Given the length of our previous day, I had requested Gisela to order the castle servants not to disturb her. As for Morgana, she would surely sleep well into the morning if I knew anything about that young, rebellious woman.
As I entered this study, I first removed some of the many maps my father had previously charted in the many years we had held The Hunt, deciding I would use my knowledge of the forest coupled with the familiarity of the previous years, to craft new routes for the hunters.
I had decided to give Merlin time to prepare himself to join me, given the rushed state he had left me with…
… but as some time passed, I did soon question just how long he had planned to take with drawing a bath.
Before I could stand from this desk, I heard a knock on the door to my closed study which happened to settle some of my nerves, expecting to find the young sorcerer once I gave the command to enter.
Instead, it was Gisela who entered with a cup of tea in her hand.
“How is the work coming along, my King?” The older woman asked as she entered, making her way towards me to set the tea down onto a cleared space at the end of the desk, comfortably away from the maps I had began charting of my own accord in the absence of Merlin.
“Well enough,” I answered her. “Has Merlin not finished with his drawn bath?” I asked her. Gisela shook her head no.
“I believe he is relaxing. I went to observe whether the room was well stocked with drying towels, and he was resting inside the tub.”
I gave Gisela a slow nod, recalling the extent of his exhaustion this early morning.
“I was to return to him with a fresh towel however Morgana has arisen and she insisted she bring it to him after she managed to cut out the broken comb from her hair.” This older woman explained. “I believe she had some questions to ask him of- some plants she had read about in the library the prior night.” Gisela added, which immediately made my eyes narrow.
“She is in her chamber now, then?” I asked a bit quickly as I rushed to my feet.
“Yes, your highness. And I am now to attend to the Queen.” Gisela watched as I took longer strides towards her. She had already began to retreat back towards the open door of the study. “Guinevere has requested my presence in the Royal’s chamber to begin creating the design of her gown for The Hunt. If you are to need me, simply call upon one of the servants and they will come fetch me for you.”
My hand pushed the study door open further so we could both travel through, however Gisela had taken her leave in one direction towards the servants quarters, surely to retrieve fabric samples for Guin, while I made my way towards the wing of the castle where the Royals chambers were located, making my way quickly up that back winding stairwell to soon reach the open door of Morgana’s room.
And Gisela had not told a single lie. Morgana was just cutting out the last bit of the hair stuck in her toothed comb with a pair of shears. She was standing in front of her mirror on the wall adjacent to her open door, and as I entered, Morgana turned to her right to greet me.
“You are up quite early, dear sister.” I noted immediately, to which this young, vibrant girl still in her thin white nightgown, scoffed.
“Is it a sin for me to develop new, productive habits, dear brother?” She asked which made my eyebrows raise some.
“For you , Morgana, no. Not a sin . But it does raise a concerning amount of questions considering you never favoured the morning before. To what do I owe as the reason for this sudden change?”
“Merlin,” Morgana replied with a large grin. “I did some reading in the library the night before and I could not wait to ask him questions! I know he rises early, so I have chosen to do the same.” The young woman finally managed to free the comb from her dark, intense curls, then set both it and the pair of shears onto the wooden table in front of her that held up her mirror.
I had to remind myself that that was not something punishable- her awakening early for the sorcerer…
Then I remembered what Gisela had revealed tk me.
“Gisela spoke of you bringing towels to the bathing room.” I told my sister who immediately frowned as I took another step further into her room. She turned back to look towards her bed and my eyes followed, spotting the folded fabric placed neatly there.
She wasn’t nearly as quick enough to get to the bundle before I snatched the towels from her bed.
“Arthur!” Morgana whined, placing her hands on her hips in clear irritance.
“You know it is not fitting for you to enter the bathing home with a man. I should not have to tell you this, Morgana.” I scolded my younger sister quickly.
“ Arthur! “ She whined harder. “Please, you have made it impossible for me to find time to see him. He and I are friends. Only friends, and you said so yourself that he has come here with a vast degree of knowledge. Why will you not-”
“You may ask your questions over supper tonight,” I interrupted her, already taking steps to remove myself from her chamber with the fresh set of towels in hand.
“But I do not wish to wait!” She called out to me. I turned back to this vibrant woman with a slight smile playing on my lips- my attempt not to reveal the emotions I truly felt. The emotions I had discovered the extent of in that stable the prior day… then drowned myself in at the dining table this morning…
It was jealousy.
However wrong it was for me to feel it…
I still felt it.
Morgana touched a part of Merlin that I believed I could in that moment at the stable… yet the way Merlin still closed himself to me after, made this jealousy I felt, burn stronger.
Perhaps I would have done well to listen to and heed my own words when I spoke them so freely to Morgana.
“My dear, sweet sister… good things surely come to those who practice patience.”
••
Chapter Eighteen: Hellfire
A lil sumtin sumtin cause I’ve been neglecting this story (with posting lol I do have hella chapters written, just haven’t had time to run through them and edit), and it’s my bday tomorrow so I had to show some love on this one. I’m visiting one of the most beautiful libraries in the States and will be spending the day just writing/posting first on Substack (favoring the paid tier first) then here
Enjoy, lovelies!
xoxo
Emrys
I had not expected to react to Arthur- to his words- in such an utterly destructible way.
I had felt it… first embarrassment from not having understood that the… shift between us that Arthur wanted to so desperately speak of, was the distrust planted in me at the dining table during supper the prior night. When it was revealed to me by the Queen that Arthur had fallen despicably short with meeting the expectations laid before him during that meeting with the councilmen.
That he…
That he hadn’t meant…
“Did you… did you believe that… that something else may have… changed? Between us? Between you and-”
I dipped my body lower into the cool water of the metal tub, praying it would calm the temperatures of my body. The instability of what Arthur had done to it- releasing more of his power than I had control over. How could I have drawn attention to such a thing?
“Then there is something to discuss then?”
There wasn’t, I told myself now. That was what I had told him. No…
“When I… when I washed your feet-”
No , I had said again, though the memory had invaded my mind so abruptly as if I was ambushed by an unsuspecting enemy. I couldn’t look at Arthur. I couldn’t gaze into his eyes without recalling a memory that should not have existed. That should not have been created in the first place.
“When I…. when I… touched you-”
My body- this vessel… it had started to burn then. The air around he and I had started to burn. Everything , every essence his magic could touch had started to rage with that scorching heat at the sound of Arthur’s deepened voice. At the slight rasp of his tone as he spoke of things I had since sworn against ever mentioning again.
He had spoken of a moment when I bore weakness- when I merged the image of the man I had watched for quite some time, and the King who stood before me now, unwilling to reject the pull he carried with him.
I had told him no once more, and yet not even my own voice could hold the strong conviction needed to support my weakening claim. It had taken all I could to refrain from engulfing the dining hall itself in unforgiving hellfire. That was what his magic was.
“When I… when I touched more of you… the… softness of your skin-”
This was when I had to excuse myself from the presence of the King immediately. To leave before his power revealed to Arthur far more than any man in this realm or the rest knew of. What ravaging magick I truly carried.
Only my companions knew of what I truly was. They could taste it in my blood- in the power I called upon to keep them safe. Obedient .
My vessel sunk itself further into the water that had started to warm- to slowly begin to simmer around me as more magick was expelled into it. It had so eloquently ruined the purpose of the cold water I had ran this bath to begin with.
I found my eyes slowly closing as I leant my head back against the folded cloth around the edge of the metal tub, slowing my breaths as I concentrated on returning this pooling magick back into this vessel. I used just what was needed to increase the heat of this water, wishing the excess remnants would be enough to regain control over this power.
Gisela, a servant of the castle, would return soon with freshened towels. I knew that she had kept her distance from me out of safety for herself, and could sense she had masked it well, yet as soon as she entered this room, I had smelt the peculiar scent of a Seer. An oracle. She had not spoken freely of who I was for there was another servant who had accompanied her upon my reply to enter after I heard a knock on the door to this bathing room.
She had been brief, yet as her eyes lingered on me some, I could almost hear her thoughts. The questions she must have had. I had my own suspicions of how King Arthur had found my home so deep within that forest, yet now I had found answers to a few of my own questions that were left unspoken since my arrival.
She and I would speak again soon, that I was sure of.
In addition to her return, I would be in the company of Arthur for the duration of this day. I would need to sedate what it was that had triggered this magick’s release, and do so quickly.
It was the steam of the tub that assisted in my body’s relaxation. It was what had lulled this worn vessel into a state of sleep- something I could not control, much like the many things needed to keep it capable of supporting my power.
In addition to what had happened in the forest when I went too long without a meal, I was tiring of existing in this body for so long. Its maintenance was pressing, and extensive, as opposed to the state of a serpent.
A state I had grown all too accustomed to residing in.
But I was inside the castle of Camelot now. I could not change into such a creature here. I would need to learn to tend to its needs in order to avoid a situation such as that one- Arthur having to carry me back to the small cottage- and adjustments would be needed in order to avoid a weakening situation I would soon find myself in as this vessel forced sleep upon me.
I did not hear the knock to the bathing room door.
I did not hear as someone eventually entered.
I did not hear it when that someone called my name.
The only thing that forced myself to awaken was when I felt something touch my neck, forcing my eyes open, and a hand of mine to break from underneath the surface of the steaming water to grab hold of whatever had dared touch me.
My eyes saw a blazing white light when they opened so suddenly from the rested state I once settled in, yet I had forced them to focus once I heard the hissing sound of pain from whoever I had grabbed, and soon whoever touched me had retracted their hand entirely from my exposed neck.
Kneeling on the stone floor beside this metal tub and myself was none other than the King himself. Arthur. He was holding his wrist tight to his chest, which forced this vessel of mine up higher in the water from the sheer state of panic this brought upon me.
“A-Arthur-”
“Merlin, you-” Arthur reached for me again, but my eyes burned brighter, feeding into the immense power coursing through this unprepared vessel.
“ Do not ,“ I hissed, my voice lowering as it stopped him from drawing himself any nearer.
“Are you alright?” His voice was as panicked as my own thoughts, his light eyes filled with worry as my golden burning irises flickered back and forth between his light blue hues and his deteriorating injury on his wrist. I could see the deeply burnt imprint of my hand taking form quickly as the skin deepened in color.
I had touched him-… hurt him.
Horridly so, at that.
And yet he was the one who held equal concern for me, wherein that concern should have been directed on the burn that would only be growing more painful with each passing moment.
I could feel all power retracting itself as the steam from the water began to dissipate around me, molding into the clear air. My body cooled itself as I began to pull from this vessel an only slight transformation, beckoning my serpents fangs as I brought my own wrist to my sharpened teeth.
I felt that familiar pain once my fangs pierced flesh, yet I welcomed it as my cooler blood stabilized the blazing magick, a different pain that my body had not yet grown accustomed to.
“ Here ,“ I then stretched my hand across the edge of the tub towards the injured King, watching the droplets of blood start to form from the punctured wounds. “Drink. Quickly .”
Arthur’s thick brows furrowed with slight uncertainty. I watched with intent as he shifted closer to me on this stone ground.
“What… what is it that just happened-”
“ Drink ,“ I insisted yet again, using a degree of urgency that had the man slowly reach for my left hand with his own, keeping his right hand, the one which’s skin had started to boil from the burn, close to his chest. He moved with a small amount of hesitancy, yet he did not shy from me…
He was not… frightened of me. These light eyes never left mine, not even as he brought my wrist to his own lips to slowly start to drink from.
And the feeling that jolted through me forced my right hand up from the cooling water of the tub to grab the metal edge as my eyelids lowered closed completely.
The gods…
yr
I gripped that metal tighter, forcing my body to control itself- to control how this… this.. this felt.
I felt everything. The way something so brief could alter every part of my being with immense strength. The soft warmth- the slight rigidness of Arthur’s tongue against my tender flesh which forced my eyes open again. Those light eyes of his felt as if they were piercing through my golden ones as he looked at me. The way this- the way he was looking at me… it-
“A-Arthur-” I whispered, hoping my words would lessen the heavier breaths brought on by more of this feeling, this fervent pleasure coursing through my veins as small amounts of blood was drawn from my channels. I released the smallest, insuppressible whisper of a moan that pushed past my defenses against every ask I had, and the way Arthur’s eyes darkened swiftly forced myself to pull my hand from him, granting him no further access to such intimacy.
“E-Enough,” I breathed. “That’s… enough.” I brought both hands to my exposed chest in a rather quick motion, resting them over the now cooled skin as my magick began to heal the puncture wound I had made. The sharp fangs of my teeth retracted into my teeth while I reversed the beginning of my transformation.
I had managed to bring this vessel back to temperatures that were… safe, given my own magick. The remnants of that magic- his magic- had since settled itself once recognizing my power seeping through.
My breaths had started to settle itself as well, something I was all too grateful for.
Then I felt my left hand separate itself from my chest, as I stretched my arm back out past the edge of the tub again. “Allow me to see it,” I spoke quietly, my words falling past my lips as nothing more than a whisper.
Arthur did not hesitate to extend the hurt hand towards me, allowing me to touch him once more… even after… even after I had…
I wrapped my hand around his, feeling the soft intensity of his touch though I still willed myself to regain full control. Arthur shifted closer to me from his position on the floor, with interest etched blatantly onto his handsome features. His gaze had finally lowered from my own, yet I could see it took an awfully slow path down to his wrist, forcing myself to remember that my chest was now fully exposed to him, and just below the surface of this water laid the rest of my bare vessel.
Water that was… barely murky from the steam.
I attempted to focus on the quickly healing burn. It would scar, yet I was able to save it from the magick eroding through the skin to his bone. Had Arthur taken longer to drink from me- had he truly hesitated- the power I possessed, his power, would have left irreversible damages.
Not even my blood could fully heal him from the scorching magick I had touched him with. There was no true cure for it, and my chest was a testament to that.
My hand quickly released Arthur’s when I felt his eyes start to wander further, past his hand in mine to examine the clearing water more thoroughly. The I cleared my rather parched throat as any hopes to stop him. “It will heal.” I told the man- the King- who of which I had almost just maimed. “But it will scar.”
“What was it?” Arthur asked me quietly as he finally gave his wrist the attention he should have been giving it, instead of those light eyes finding their way to more of my exposed skin. “What power- what magick was tha-”
“A servant is coming,” I returned quickly to abruptly cut His Majesty’s words as I sensed someone walking down the corridor just past the bathing room door that Arthur had managed to close before approaching me. “Leave this room. I will join you in the study shortly.”
And though I could see the unconcealed reluctance in those light blue eyes… Arthur still found himself quickly standing. There was good reason to worry in this moment.
Whatever had happened here could not be discovered.
I had wished to forget this moment entirely, like I had wished to do for the time spent in that stable… yet there was now a rather permanent reminder on Arthur’s wrist of what I had done…
Along with the look he had given me, dragging his tongue along the puncture wound of my wrist as he watched what it did to not just this vessel, but my magick as a whole.
What he did to me.
I worked to remove myself from that metal tub shortly after Arthur took his leave. This vessel had settled, yet my mind simply had not.
There was no escaping my duties, and yet this very morning I had never wanted to be the farthest from this castle and the King.
Regardless of my own thoughts, I was forced to conceal them well. Conceal them from myself, and from the only ones who could sense that I had done something rather distasteful to them as soon as I returned to my chamber momentarily.
My companions.
I sensed both their distrust with what I had done, and their concern for the power I could not control in that moment. They could smell it running through me- the mixture of his magick and my own. I had only ever lost control like that on a handful of occasions, where my magick and his were forced to merge. One was meant to concede for the other, yet neither were willing to concede.
My companions were terrified of what his magick was. And rightfully so.
The horror it had once brought to all the realms was something engraved in every sorcerer- every Druid.
For this moment, however, I had to leave my companions with their unsurety. I did not have the capability of explaining more before I would be expected in that study, and so I was forced to assure these creatures that all would be well. That it was but mere unexpectedness within our plans for the days to come.
A time in place.
Perhaps that was really what I was telling myself, I thought, as I departed from my chamber to make my way towards the King’s study.
••
Chapter Nineteen: Desires That Should Not Be
Thank you for all the bday wishes, lovelies!
And enjoy!
xoxo
Arthur
I kept my gaze lowered at my wrist resting comfortably on the wooden desk.
The burn had already almost healed in its entirety, just as Merlin had said it soon would, yet there was a slightly darker mark etched into the skin, wrapping itself around completely, just as Merlin had also said.
That it would leave a mark.
I had still recalled the feeling of it- not the burning heat from his hand as he grabbed my wrist suddenly, but the soft feeling of his tender neck right before- his soft skin as I reached out for it, my heart filled to the brim with sheer worry since I had first noticed the thick steam and slight bubbling of the water he had been submerged in.
I knew not of if he had been sleeping, or dead. His body had remained far too still for me to discern, and he had not answered to his name being called.
Before entering, I had first knocked on the door to the bathing room with the fresh towels in hand, but I received no answer from the sorcerer then either. After a few knocks, I had eventually decided to enter of my own accord. And what I pushed that heavy wooden door open to find swiftly left me in a state of panic as I witnessed that thick steam engulf the man almost fully submerged in the scorching water.
I closed the door behind me quickly, locking it before rushing towards Merlin. The steam had been so thick that I could barely see the man within it until I had kneeled before him, near the metal tub itself, but I was careful not to touch the metal that was starting to glow slightly from the heat of the water.
And as soon as I did draw closer, my entire body halted for a singular, unavoidable moment.
Merlin’s eyes were shut as his head rested back against the edge of the tub, a piece of folded cloth aiding with the comfort of the thin edge. Those fiery red strands of his hair were completely drenched in the water, turning them a deeper red- almost the rich dark color of the blood that ran within a man, and the strands clung to his flushed skin as if they were apart of it, clinging to the moisture that he had been dipped in.
This had been the most color I had ever seen settled into the ethereal features of his hauntingly beautiful face… and yet my immediate mesmerisation was clouded with pure, unwavering worry. I found my right hand reaching up to the side of his neck, hoping to check both for a a heartbeat of some kind, and raise him from this almost boiling water…
Yet right as my hand grazed against him, touching that scorching skin, Merlin’s eyes flew open wildly, my proximity to him allowing me to capture the most raging fire behind his eyelids, embedded within his now almost red irises themselves. Whatever this magick was, it had been different than anything I had seen him bare before.
It had… startled me… terribly so… but I was given no opportunity to understand the ramifications for what I had done, before a hand broke through that water to grab hold of my wrist. I saw it in those burning eyes of his- he was looking in my direction, but he had not fully registered who knelt before him then.
And the excruciating pain that swiftly followed almost left my body in a sudden shock, unable to fully process what it was he had done. That he had burned the skin he touched.
I was not sure of what my next actions should have been as I brought my injured hand up to my chest quickly, the intensity of that burn almost making the skin turn numb with pain. I had tried to reach for Merlin again once I saw something flash in his then settling eyes- the look of pure terror as he finally recognized who I was and supposedly what he had done, but Merlin had told me no.
His voice held the sharpest tone of a warning, and considering I had never bore witness to that look in his eyes before- the look of fear
- all I could do was pull away slightly again, watching him close as my mind paid no mind to the intense pain my body was enduring from this burn.
My eyes remained on this sorcerer, unable to look away, and that was due in part to Merlin having sat up further in that tub, revealing more of his wet skin. His chest… his upper arms… his… his darker colored, taut nubs…
I could feel the thick air around us catching in my throat, keeping my gaze latched onto him like I was witnessing an artist mold a figure of a god from nothing but clay and rain water. His shoulders were as broad as I remembered in that forest, yet I could see something now which I had not before. Something I did not believe this sorcerer had meant to reveal to me.
Directly in the center of Merlin’s chest, there was the start of a deep scar. The somewhat murky water did well to hide the rest of it, but I could see the raised, mangled yet seemingly healed flesh that was a sharp contrast to the smoothness of his bare chest. That scar raised many questions, for I had never seen something so intense on a man who still harbored his breaths, living to see another day. A scar like that was not one many men would carry the luxury of surviving through.
I could only look on as this young sorcerer did something else that equally captivated- intrigued me even further, taking my mind further away from the pain of my wrist.
The steam around him had started to settle. The simmering water began to calm. Whatever heat he had produced was disbanded, or pulled back into him, there was no way of me knowing for certain. All I knew was that he was regaining control of this magick I had never seen before- never heard of. Magick I could feel , as the power once circling even the air around us began to dissipate.
He had then done something I had in fact seen once before. Experienced , rather.
Fangs of his grew from the most pointed teeth of his upper set, fangs that perhaps would have terrified any other man who bore witness for they did not know this sorcerers true state. He brought his left hand up past the calming water to his mouth before he bit down quickly, and as I saw the first droplet of blood break through his skin just as his fangs had done, Merlin wasted not a moment to outstretch his arm for me, ordering me to drink.
I had done this once before , I could not help but think then. In that forest.
When he had poisoned me with a bite from one of his serpents.
I had done this once before… and yet I had a degree of hesitancy when presented with his blood again. Something from somewhere within had told me that what Merlin was insisting upon was somehow both a necessity, yet also dauntingly dangerous. I knew not how I knew of that, but I simply just did.
It was the look in Merlin’s golden eyes, and the insistence in his deep voice, which forced me to reach for his hand with my left, bringing that punctured wrist to my lips as I shifted closer against the cooling stone floor. Even the ground had grown warm from the magick once expelling from Merlin’s body, and it had since been given the opportunity to regain its original temperature, as what once was, was no longer.
My eyes remained on this Druid, refusing to look away while he watched me with equal amounts of intent. As soon as my lips touched his cooling skin, I saw something in him that brought immense heat to my entire being.
Merlin’s face tightened, tensing, his eyelids quickly lowering to a close and his head tilted itself back slightly, revealing those veins and tendons that traveled down his perfect neck as his right hand shot up past the surface of the slight murky water.
I could see the grip that that hand took on the side’s edge of the tub. The way his knuckles whitened from the strength and harshness of it. I watched with hooded eyelids of my own, welcoming the sweetness of his blood as Merlin’s breaths grew deeper- more laborious.
And this… this sight I had bore witness to…
It had made a part of my body surge with pure fucking need, forcing what was hardening between my legs to push against the thin fabric of my trousers. I held that hand a bit tighter in my own as I dragged my tongue against the softness of his wrist, and the sound that fell past Merlin’s lips sent something through every connected part of me, begging that he would reveal to me more of this…
This… this pleasure that had seemingly started to course through the young Druid as his eyes snapped open again to find mine- me watching him.
I had felt that familiar feeling of wanting to drink more of his blood, however dangerous my mind had since decided it must be. There was something about this act that was sinful, with blood that altered the effects of my body like the sweetest of wines.
It was Merlin who had seemed to feel it too, for he had yanked that hand from my lips rather suddenly, deciding for us both that I had taken enough.
And the strength that started to course through my own veins, the cooling feeling that began to pool around my injured wrist, it had told me that I had taken more than just enough.
So much so, that I expected Merlin to order me out in retaliation for my greed… for wanting to prolong this moment that so clearly brought this man pleasure… yet he returned both his hands to his chest, drawing my attention back there suddenly- to the exposed skin with which the flushed color from the steam had begun to drain itself as his gaze remained on me.
We sat like this for a moment, neither of us moving nor mustering words to speak anything of substance. I remained patient, and my patience was so awarded when Merlin slowly stretched out his left arm again, uncurling his fingers.
There was no injury- no punctured skin on his wrist from what his fangs had done. It had fully healed right before my very eyes. And when he had asked for my hand, to examine it, I allowed it, bringing it from my own chest and placing the once injured thing into that open palm of his.
Even the touch of his hand left a lingering imprint on my skin. I had never felt so… affected by anything before.
Anyone .
He was gentle with his touch as he turned my hand over again and again, and the sheer amount of surprise by how quickly the rawness of the burned skin had faded would have been far more startling had I not seen this before, too.
What his blood could do. The power it held.
I had somehow shifted even closer to him on the cold stone floor, allowing my eyes to wander as I noticed the water this man was submerged in had become clearer. I could… I could see… more of him with each passing second. I could see a blurred image of his scar as it ran just a few marks lower on his chest. I bore witness to the slender yet toned state of his body, leading towards… to-
Merlin had quickly pulled away, forcing my eyes back to his- the irises that glowed even brighter for just a moment before returning to their golden state.
And that was when he had alerted me to the fact that someone was quickly approaching, information which had brought me to my feet soon enough, severing our rather intense connection, for no one could find me in there like… that. Not with the state I was in.
The state he left me in.
As I sat in my study now, awaiting Merlin, I felt the heat carry through my body once more. I felt that utter, inescapable arousal build yet again from the simple thought of what my eyes had gazed upon.
The beauty of such a man who was no man.
When I drank from him… when my tongue ran across the softness of his tender skin, and those eyes of his opened to me… I had never seen such… such lust fill those golden irises. I had never seen such severe want in the way he looked at me before.
I had never felt such an unmovable need for more of it- him. There was some… hesitancy in that stable as I attempted to understand what it was this sorcerer may lay claim to desire… if perhaps there was a part of him that… desired me in the way I desired him, yet as his eyes held mine then, in that tub, I saw nothing but desire fill them to the hilt.
The hand that bore the scar fell past the sturdy desk in front of me, to my lap. To the bulge that had started to push past my trousers, reminding me of what power this sorcerer held over me. There was no escaping my feelings for him, nor my own urges- desires , regardless of the work I had done to try. Regardless of rejection I knew I would face by the hands of Merlin if I were to ever jeopardize my duties to the throne- to the kingdom, for my own desires.
And yet… my heart yearned for it- him.
My soul burned at the thought of him. I wanted nothing more than for him to only meet my gaze with such need.
I could feel my hand start to palm that hardening thickness, touching myself through the fabric as my head tilted back onto this wooden chair. As my eyes settled closed, all I could think of was Merlin while more pleasure filed through me. Of the way his lips twisted into a smile to genuine while we remained in the stables, and the sound of his rich laughter falling past those tinted lips…
Perhaps it was this visceral need which conjured the one thing coursing through my mind… for the knock on my study door swiftly brought my tainted thoughts back to the present.
I rushed to straighten my trousers out before I shifted the chair further under the desk, hiding my lower half from who was to push past that door, and the blatant visible arousal as I spoke the word “enter.”
My head was positioned straight ahead, watching the heavy wooden door slowly open while the cloaked man entered before he closed the door behind him. His hood was drawn, covering almost all his features besides the dampened strands of red hair that fell past the opening, lying against his chest.
Having known now what that cloak covered… I could not unthink it. I could not cease to imagine him removing it in my presence as he did his hood.
Merlin took the steps necessary to soon join me at my desk, taking a seat across from me before raising his hands past the long sleeves of his thick black cloak, to withdraw that hood from his head as promised.
His skin had returned to its fair color. His eyes held those same golden hues, and his face looked replenished as opposed to the worn state it was once in this early morning.
“Let us begin then,” Merlin spoke. His voice no longer held that soft tenderness it once had. This sorcerer had seemingly returned to the stoic state I had grown accustomed to before I knew there was more that lay beneath the hardened exterior. Beneath that biting tongue.
“Are we not to discuss what it was that that was?” I asked him questionably as my eyes and his finally met.
“No,” he replied with, surprising me. “For it will not happen again.”
“Has it happened before?” I continued. I was unwilling to move past this. There was still that worry inside me- the look of fear once held in Merlin’s eyes. It was the first time I had seen this sorcerer appear not in control of what it was he harbored.
Merlin did not shy from the intensity of my gaze as he responded. “It… will not happen again.”
And that had led me to believe that it had indeed happened before, though I could not be fully certain. There were many things about this Druid that I could not be certain of. “What was that magick?” I asked him. “When you touched me, it had felt… old. It had felt ancient .”
“It is of no concern to you, my King. What is of your concern this day is The Hunt, and that shall be where our focus lies. I believe it best to forget the events of before. Let us focus on the work that is to come.”
I felt my eyebrows raise slightly. “And what of this?” I asked, raising my hand from my lap to reveal the slight scar to the young sorcerer.
That was when I saw Merlin’s eyes soften only slightly, revealing to me the ability this man possessed. The thoughts of tenderness and care he had once had with me when his hand had reached for mine to examine it in the bathing room.
“It will serve as a warning,” Merlin replied carefully. “You are not to touch me without me granting you permission to do so. This vessel is not that of a man, and you will do well to remember.”
The harshness of that reply surprised me some… but it did not deter me completely.
“And if you… if you were to grant me your consent then?” I asked.
“That day will never present itself, Your Highness.” Merlin muttered rather quickly. “Now may I suggest you return to your duties, as you have requested I remain with mine. It was you who had assured me that I can and should place trust in your actions… unless you prefer I place my distrust in you once again?”
I quickly shook my head no, willing to succumb to the sharp tone he had taken.
I had given this sorcerer my word, and I intended to keep it…
Yet this did not pull away from my desires. It only created an addition to it, furthering my need to earn my place beside him, however wrong I knew it to be.
••
Chapter Twenty: Where My Loyalty Truly Lies
Emrys
Arthur had surprised me greatly in the coming days that followed.
He had remained committed to the work at hand: charting the marked routes acceptable by the participating citizens, for we had less than a fortnight to prepare for the gathering that would befall the castle.
The Hunt.
And I could not rid myself of this eerie feeling which tapped lightly against the tautly drawn strings of my senses.
The young King was… continuing to surprise me. I had believed that we had left what had happened in that bathing room, in the past where it rightfully belonged. I did not wish to think of it again, of how he had witnessed more of me- this vessel- than I would ever have allowed. I was led to believe that we were not to speak of such a thing more… and yet the way he- the King- looked at me since then… it made me strongly believe that he had not forgotten.
That he would not allow himself to , against my better wishes.
The Queen had since noticed the marking left from the burn on his right wrist that wrapped fulling around it, and I knew it to be so for her gaze lowered to it every so often at the dining table when we all took our supper together, however she did not speak of it. And though it was but a small notice in regard to her slight gazes, I could see that there was a rift building between the two Royals as they spoke in the days that followed. The Queen was displeased with something though she hid it well, and I was not certain of what Arthur had possibly done now to anger his wife, yet I was determined to uncover it for myself.
I had requested long ago that he make her happy, and he had seemingly been failing to do just that all whilst the union between these two was what fed the council more trust. The ruling of both the King and his Queen. Camelot had not seen such an equivalent pair in quite some time.
There were other occurrences that had held me at bay from inquiring further, unfortunately. Other instances to which my attention was needed… for the scent Arthur reeked of had not been lost to me during this stay. With many of my nights being spent in the In Between, soothing my companions by the work sought out for me- seeking retribution for those who’s souls Uther Pendragon had damned to the burning fires of hell itself- and the outburst of his magick was still brewing from within my core, alluding to something coming.
Something that would require more of me.
Something disastrous.
I was not sure of what, but I could feel the unrest coursing through my blood. It had brought my mind more alertedness to the whereabouts of not just my own vessel, but of those who walked the castle halls just like myself, occupying this large home amidst the King and Queen.
Then there was something else compiling to my growing worry- one additional thing weighing heavily on my mind- perhaps the most heavily… and that was Morgana.
I could sense the restlessness of her nights. I could feel her roaming the castle far too late into the darkness of the sky, yet my mind was tethered to the In Between then, not allowing me to interfere.
To assure myself of the safety of her own mind and heart.
She was now the only living person who knew my mind and heart, even if she had long forgotten who I was to her. How she had once owned my own heart before it was mangled- merged with something so impure.
And so, as the coming days of The Hunt quickly approached us, I had decided to make my bold request with the Queen as I found her walking through the halls of the castle towards the servants quarters. She had with her Gisela, and heaps of fabric in both hers and the hands of the older woman.
“Merlin,” she smiled as I approached them slowly from the hall adjacent, keeping my body fully cloaked, for two of my companions were wrapped around my arms this day.
I had decided to carry them with me, for they were tasked with work of their own which required safe passage within this light of day.
“My Queen,” I replied, bowing politely in her presence. I noticed as Gisela took some steps back, he worn shoes shuffling against the stone floor, allowing this beautiful young woman and myself to speak more privately.
“To what do I owe this sudden appearance?” She asked me. “The King is in his study awaiting you.”
“It is you who I wish to speak with,” I told this beautiful woman, watching as the braids of her hair fell past her shoulders to her chest, reminding me of how my companions had once so freely wrapped themselves around my own neck when we were once in the comfort of our home- the deepest parts of the forest.
I watched as the Queen gazed upon me a moment, then she turned her head slightly to Gisela, nodding to the servant to which Gisela nodded back, gave me a nod out of respect for my position, then retreated to the servants chambers for the Queen and I to speak alone in private.
My companions dutifully slid further up my arms, allowing me to lift my hands and gently push the hood I bore back against my shoulders, revealing my face to Guinevere. She smiled at the gesture, allowing myself space beside her and we slowly walked down the halls of the castle, and away from a place heavily guarded by the loyal guards of the royals. She had done well to keep these words between us just for our ears alone.
“What is it, Merlin?” She asked more quietly, turning her head to me as our steps were deliberately slowed, our pace in balance.
“You are to meet with those who have shown interest as entertainers for the gathering that will follow the Hunt come dawn tomorrow, are you not?” I asked, mirroring the same lowered tone she possessed, to which she nodded.
Being this close, walking beside Arthur’s equal, it made me question what it was this man could not find contentedness with. Why he could not find it within himself to maintain the happiness of a woman so worthy of it.
Why he-… why he insisted that he… he entertain such wrong thoughts.
If their union were not for he, then he was to think of this Kingdom at the very least.
“I have committed much of my time to the work expecting of me the days I have spent in this castle.” I told her, to which Guinevere nodded again more quickly.
“I assure you, Merlin, the work you have done with Arthur- you suggesting we open the talent of the gathering to the local musicians who reside in the outskirts of town… I believe it to be such a touching thought. The Council have reported that this has helped our standing amongst our people greatly.” Guinevere’s words were kind, soft , yet held such an assertive tone which pulled from me a slight smile.
She had openly welcomed this position of hers. Her duty to her people.
“I am pleased that you are pleased with my work, my Queen,” I assured her in return, and my words made Guinevere’s own lovely smile only grow. “Yet,” I continued, “there is something that still worries me.”
Those additional words made Guinevere’s smile fall immediately. “What is it, Merlin?” She asked me. I could hear the worry in her now.
I took only the briefest of moments to correctly collect my thoughts, for I did not want to stir from her more emotion. “Morgana.” I then answered. “I have spent far too long attending to my duties, and I have reason to believe that at this moment, she may need my company more than I thought. The company of a friend.”
Guinevere’s smile slowly returned as she digested my words, her soon nodding up towards me while we walked.
“I would like to request that you allow me this time come day tomorrow to spend with her in the castle’s library. And though a peculiar ask,” I spoke freely now, “… I ask that you take the King with you. He does not favor my friendship with his sister, yet I assure you I have no underlaying intent but to comfort her as a friend. She has been meaning to show me much of what she has read, and I have an interest to learn from her as she, I. To resolve that aching feeling loneliness has since brought her upon the late King’s passing.”
I was not sure of how she would respond, but Guinevere did not keep my unsurety waiting.
“You have my blessing for such a request. I will make certain that Arthur is at my side come dawn, allowing you this time with no interruptions. Morgana appreciates her time with you, and though the King may be ignorant with acknowledging the happiness you bring her, I find your friendship to be quite beautiful. I would never have thought for you to be a being who could lead with such comfort, but I wish nothing more than for Morgana’s happiness.”
A felt a larger, more defined smile grace my own lips at her generous words to me.
“My only ask,” she continued, slowing her steps further for we were now soon to approach the study of the King, “is that you may explain to me why . What is it that draws you to such kindness with Morgana? She does not know of… of what you-”
“ That I know of,“ I whispered in return. “I understand my reputation has preceded me, my Queen. If you are to believe any words that fall past my lips, I want you to hold these words dear to you when I say that there is not one soul in this realm who understands what isolation can do to a being more than I.”
I watched Guinevere’s eyes widen slightly at my words. At the way my magick coursed through me- the gold irises burning brightly, mirrored in the reflection of the Queen’s deep brown eyes.
“I do not want for Morgana to feed into something so destructive.” I then concluded, my head turning forward a moment as my gaze shifted to the study entrance soon approaching on our right.
“I… believe them.” Guinevere spoke quietly to me. “Your words, Merlin. And for, while Arthur may do what he can, I believe he was forced to take much responsibility from such an age that Morgana has surely missed someone who is capable of convincing her to retreat from her chambers both early, and often. Something we had all failed to do in light of the late King’s passing. So I… I do believe your protection is genuine. I may not fully trust you, for I do not trust many, but I can at least trust that Morgana is well in your care.”
I gave the Queen a gentle nod.
“I will, however, expect you to remain within the castle come dawn. It would be the safest for you two.” This elegant woman finished with those softly spoken words, and I nodded to her once more before I reached for the metal handle of the study’s heavy wooden door.
The King and I had continued our preparations for The Hunt, yet we did not get far before he asked me a question so sudden and unexpected, I was not sure as to whether I had heard him correctly.
“So will you not be joining me for breakfast again?”
I first lifted my gaze from across this study’s desk, then simply kept it upon the King, upon those light eyes whilst I remained unsure of how to answer this. I did not keep him waiting long, however. “My evenings have grown long. My night’s restless. There is much depending on both yours and my own success with our duties, and I am determined to see to it nothing is hindered in the process. You may continue to see me for supper, a meal taken with your wife and your sister.”
Those words did not seem to settle well with Arthur, for the way his eyebrows tightened slightly and the firmer his fingers pressed just a bit further around the quill, what I had said had coerced from him a reaction.
“You and I spend adequate time working together in this study. I believe all diplomatic discussions are well equipped to be held within the sufficient amount of time taking place here.” I continued, watching those light eyes closely.
“I would prefer I hear of those long nights come dawn. I would prefer you speak openly and freely with me before the sun rises and our expectations weigh heavier on us. So join me again.”
My eyebrows narrowed slightly at Arthur. Joining him meant that… that we’d be alone together. That we’d be alone in a way that wasn’t suitable for us. It did not encompass our work, and this request was for his benefit, not the Kingdom’s. I found myself slowly shaking my head left and then right.
“Not until my nights shorten,” I told him with a degree of seriousness, and Arthur seemed to accept my stipulation. Not with open arms, but he accepted it nonetheless, not knowing that those shorter nights I spoke of would never befall me.
And that was where he had chosen to leave things. I was grateful of his decision not to press this further, for I knew not of the length my night would possibly stretch to had he. The King and Queen had joined both myself and Morgana for supper, yet even as the young, vibrant woman met me with that same excitement, I could feel the slight dullness that accompanied her tone. I noticed the way Morgana had started to drag her feet more against the stone, and the sheer glossy layer of tiredness that coated her eyes.
Sleep had not been finding her well at all, yet she spoke nothing of it to me.
This had troubled me so greatly, I was forced to make a rather sudden decision that evening…
And that was that I would find a way to ease her suffering however I possibly could.
Upon supper, my objective was to wander these halls, collecting the few companions that had left me come dawn. I had made certain to leave this chamber after the King and Queen’s heartbeat relaxed into a steady rate in their own, assuring me privacy.
There was a particular heartbeat I could hear which was what brought me quickly to my feet, making no noise as I made my way out of this chamber. The minimal light from the palace walls, only illuminated by the sconces, felt welcoming. These halls felt safer in the darkness, for my eyes would always adjust to it.
As I slowly walked, I could sense two of my companions finding their way back to me from the cracks in the walls. I had released them inside Arthur’s study by high noon, however I could tell by their approach that there was no good news they possessed to reveal to me.
Our time to discuss would come later, for this night, I was not concerning myself with the displacement of the In Between. Tonight I had other concerns.
As my steps soon approached the chambers of the only one in this castle I could- who I may very well find myself sacrificing it all to protect, I could already hear the rusting sounds of her bedsheets. Her breaths were laboured, harsh, mirroring the pounding beats of her heart that washed upon my ears. I could hear the slight murmuring of disruptive sleep as she begged for it to find her.
The door to her chamber had been locked, forcing me to use my magick to undo and push past the barriers which separated me from this hurting young woman, though I made sure to keep the door unlocked as I shoved the heavy wood open.
Morgana’s chamber was dimly lit, with one single burning candle near her bedside, illuminating what it could of the otherwise darkness, but as I watched this young woman thrashing beneath the thin sheets of her bed, her eyebrows pressed tight with her eyes shut in clear pain, I moved quickly to her bedside.
She was making these soft noises, moaning as if she could almost physically feel in its entirety what troubled her- there was no longer a barrier between her dreams and her reality- and her body turned and turned, and the pain of what was to come- what I could not stop- it tore my chest cavity open with more searing agony than he had inflicted all those years ago.
“ Morgana ,“ I whispered quietly as I used my magick for my voice to reach her ears. Her movements were unpredictable and violent, yet it took nothing from within me to climb onto the mattress right beside her and pull the young woman into me, wrapping my larger arms around her as I lifted the upper portion of her body further up enough so her head could rest itself on my chest. She had only thrashed about for another moment or two, seemingly attempting to fight my embrace, but once my long fingers slid into the wild damp curls that were plastered against her forehead with dripping sweat, as was the rest of her forehead, her neck, and the exposed portion of her chest below her damp gown, her body finally slowed.
She soon welcomed the soothing embrace as I brought my fingers delicately through these soft, untamed curls.
“ I am here, Morgana, “ I whispered to her quietly. “ I am here. “
And when her eyes finally flew themselves wildly open, the first words she whispered out in a thick, rasp-filled tone was not of her own voice. It was the voice of another.
“ Throw the plate at the wall. “
It… it was a voice I had not heard in many many years, startling me right as I heard it… but it did not frighten me enough for me to loosen my hold on this tormented woman.
The skin under her eyes were dark with the marks of unrest. She soon started to shake in my secure embrace as the darkness surrounding her irises subsided, giving way to the whites of what they should have been, yet I absorbed every jolt that passed through this vessel of hers as she depleted the source of who she was. Of what her body was seemingly forcing her to embrace all too suddenly.
I knew it would not take pity on her…
Her re-awakening…
And yet I did not know what had brought upon it now. All I knew to be true was that if I had the possibility of absorbing the suffocating suffering that had come with it, I would not hesitate to do so. I would take all her suffering , I thought as I held this young woman closer, carrying it willingly upon my shoulders . I could soon feel the warmth of her surrounding me, seeping through the thickness of my cloak as I held her, but I did not let go.
“M-Merlin?” Her voice was so weak, however I could still hear the strength she attempted to push through it in an effort to sound more sure of herself. “Merlin… when… how- when did you…”
“You have not been finding sleep at night, have you?” I asked her quietly as my fingers passed gently through more of her wet curls. I could feel her now as she relaxed further into me, with her hands tucking themselves against her chest to brace herself against my firmness. Her breaths had slowed themselves further, yet I could still sense it… what was lingering within her.
“I… I did not wish to burden anyone. They are just dreams that… they consume me- I cannot wake myself from them until I find myself in an exact same place again. In the burning forest. This… this night has been the first that I have been woken from the nightmare.” She was struggling to slow her breaths, but this woman was strong. Stronger than what had been forced upon her. “I do not know how in which you managed to reach me… but-… but I could hear your voice. In that forest. Two voices mirroring each other… and yet, somehow, I knew them to be both yours.”
I felt my body tense lightly as the creatures wrapped around my arms strengthened their hold on this vessel. They were sending me a warning, and yet I did not need one. I sensed what they had- the darkness that still engulfed this young woman. The magick that lingered.
Something was shifting.
Something was displaced.
Something was coming, forcing these dreams upon the woman who knew not of what she truly was.
And those dreams… she was starting to remember.
••
Chapter Twenty-One: That Unwanted Animal
Hi lovelies!
The playlist for this one is still alive and well and a new song is added above, I’ve just been working hard to get to a point
in the story
where the songs I selected make sense lol
Enjoy, lovelies!
xoxo
Morgana
Run…
Run!
That was the only word echoing through my mind as my feet carried me barefoot across the course, dry, brittle forest floor. The tender skin of my soles were not used to this terrain, and yet I knew the forest I was in. I could feel its familiarity regardless of the burning trees surrounding me. It had surely always been this dry… had it not? I thought to myself.
Why was my dream calling upon another- a memory I did not know of and yet I did?
It was the smell of thick heaps of suffocating smoke which filled my lungs quickly, clogging them with such painful suffocation, and though I knew this body I was in to be my own somehow, as I looked down at the arms that jutted forward congruent with my paced legs, leading this sprint and helping my feet move quicker, I noticed quickly that I was not in the body I possessed now in the present time.
I was small here in this forest- just a small child…
It was the screams however, the cries of pure terror echoing against the dense, burning trees from all around me which forced me not to dwell on anything else- I only focused on what my mind asked of me. All it asked of me whilst more smoke filled my fiery lungs.
To run .
The forest was a golden blaze of pure flame, so much so that the thickness of the smoke had further masked my surroundings, making it difficult to understand where exactly I was now within this forest. My bare feet were raw, mangled with cuts and scrapes from the dryness of the forest ground, yet as I ran, there was only one deepening feeling of dread which overwhelmed the concern of the fire- of where my feet landed as I took that next sprinting step forward.
Something had awoken.
Something had… shifted within this forest
I should not have been able to feel it, and yet I felt something moving from beneath the forest floor. Something was pulling the nature’s life source from it, turning the grass a brittle withering sight, the once green hues feeling like sharpened blades against my raw skin.
Yet how… how did I once know of such a lush feeling the forest floor once brought me?
Run , the voice from within pressed forward, not regarding my own thoughts, and so I carried my feet quicker, following its urgent command.
There was a portion of my soul inside this dream that felt as if it was searching for something as I ran. I had been looking for something or someone, this was not mindless running, but I knew not of who . My mind would not tell me who it was I needed to find, yet somehow… somehow I knew a sense of safety would come with what my younger being was searching so desperately for.
The cries were growing louder, almost ear deafening as they surrounded me. My eyes had started to burn from the smoke, and I could not help but wonder how .
How was this still a nightmare… and yet I felt so displaced in time? How did I feel pain inside it? How did I hear voices so vividly when the sound of clashing metal in the distance and earth below me erupting from within should have drown out all other noise?
Who was burning all around me? And why did my heart ache with each heart wrenching cry that cut through the hazy dark sky, yet these actions were and were not of mine?
And most importantly… how had I so suddenly heard him?
Merlin …
“ Morgana ,“ a voice whispered to me first, bringing my feet to a sudden halt and forcing me almost to the forest floor with such abruptness it had unleveled my balance. I had dreamt this dream before, and with every dream- nightmare- that tormented me, my feet carried me further into this forest… but I had never heard this voice before.
None had come to me before. Just my mind telling me to run .
“ I am here, Morgana ,“ another voice spoke, yet this time it was the voice of someone younger.. but it…
It was still his voice , I thought to myself. It was Merlin’s… and yet it somehow also wasn’t. Not of the voice I first heard in the castle upon his arrival.
My dirt ridden hands moved to my untamed, knotted curls, pushing them back as I tried to listen closely. I felt the exhaustion of my frail, small body tighten around me, bringing me to my knees as darkness surrounded more and more of me. I was starting to slip into this darkness, yet it was the voice which did not leave me, that fueled my desire to withstand this horror.
It was the voice of him which seemed to snatch the shifting tide of my tormented soul and tether it to something formidable.
Something unbreakable .
I could not remember stirring, or how my body soon found its way to consciousness as a whole… yet I was certain of one thing:
What Merlin had done had brought me back.
And this had meant that perhaps… perhaps he knew of where my mind had gone to begin with. Perhaps he knew of what was happening to me- these nightmares- for quite some nights now.
“ Merlin ,“ I murmured quietly, feeling the firmness of him, and the thickness of his cloak as he held me. My eyes took time to adjust to the darkness, but once they soon did, I shifted my gaze up towards the man who held me against him with no regard of the body I could not control.
I simply stared at him a moment, ensuring myself of this feeling that had stirred. He did not look frightened, there was only concern laced into his prominent features as he gazed down at me rather tenderly.
“Merlin… when… how- when did you…” I spoke quietly as I tried to steady this voice of mine. It was trembling, as was my body in his arms, yet Merlin just held me tighter against him. I could feel it- his fingers as they ran themselves softly through my mess of hair. He was using the moisture of my sweat to gently comb through these curls with no care at all for my unruly state. I felt his cloak dampening with the sweat that was flowing freely from my body, and yet somehow this cloak of his did not hold this moisture. The cloak was thick, and yet the material felt cooling to the touch against my scorching skin, the moisture dissipating.
“You have not been finding sleep at night, have you?” He asked me quietly as he separated more of the curls that had solidified themselves together. I could not help but loosen more of the once tense muscles that took hold of me, trusting the arms that held me with nothing but concern. I had never adjusted- never relaxed my muscles so quickly to something before, nor someone.
His touch was equally as comforting as his voice, and it was all I could feel. He was all I could hear as he all but commanded my body to release its aching hold on me.
He somehow ordered peace from within me. And I had never known such peace as this before. He felt just like the way I felt the blades of grass wedged between my toes as I ran through the open field behind the castle, feeling the slight moisture of the land. From what my father had said, this field near the castle was the only place grass could grow so freely upon this land, and when I succumbed further to Merlin’s embrace, his comfort mirrored that feeling.
He felt like freedom, t hough his body held mine in a strong hold.
It was not imprisonment in his embrace. It was safety
- the very same safety I had been searching for in that dream.
“I… I did not wish to burden anyone,” I attempted to explain in that still quieted voice. “They are just dreams that… they consume me come night- I cannot wake myself from them until I find myself in an exact place within them once again.”
This was the first night I had not woken with sheets thoroughly drenched in my sweat. It was the first night I had managed to regain my feeling- I did not succumb to the darkness this time.
“In the burning forest,” I told him, nestling further into a hold I had simply never felt before… and yet my body welcomed it as if I had. As if it knew of this embrace in the past. “This… this night has been the first that I have been woken from the nightmare. I do not know how in which you managed to reach me… but I could hear your voice. In that forest. Two voices mirroring each other, and yet somehow I knew them both to be… yours .”
I felt Merlin’s body tense lightly as something shifted from within his cloak, but that movement seized not a moment later.
Had I said something out of place? I asked myself. Merlin’s sharp, handsome features had tightened some, much like his body, yet he did not dwell on that uncomfortableness which briefly riddled his body.
“It felt as if I was there, Merlin…” I spoke truthfully, feeling as Merlin massaged my scalp lightly with his long, cooling fingers, forcing my eyes closed a moment. I had not experienced such comfort before, even wrapped within this familiarity.
When I awoke from these dreams these passing days, it would take until dawn to rock my worn body back to a rested state. It would take more of my essence to bring about any level of calm, and yet this man had silenced such vivid demons with just his voice. He had calmed my heart with just his touch. “I felt as if I was in that forest. I can still feel the cuts on my feet.”
His eyes, those burning gold irises, I watched as they softened further.
“What is… What is happening to me?” I asked quietly. I never dreamt of such a nightmare before. Not before the passing of my father. And this was the first real understanding of peace I had felt since that moment.
How did he bring with him such comfort? Such familiarity?
“Your mind… it has seemingly shattered itself from within your hold,” Merlin spoke quietly. As I pressed my left ear against his chest, I could hear his heartbeat. There was an irregularity there too, much like his mind. Half of it beat to one rhythm, while the other beat to something that held no distinct tempo. Being this close to him, I could soon feel the unnatural way of his body. There was something about this man that was not fully correct, and yet he seemingly carried this tumultuous nature with such composure and elegance.
“How do I… how do I fix it, Merlin? How do I stop the nightmares?”
I could only watch, losing myself slowly into the deepness of his burning irises as he continued with this comforting touch. I did not understand how he was taking this heat- nor how he was producing such a cooling touch, but I dared not remove myself from this. If it were fitting for me to request he stay like this with me for all eternity, I would ask. This comfort and safety was unprecedented.
“From this day, I will teach you to silence the harrowing thoughts of your uniquely placed mind.” Merlin whispered gently. His scent was that of just earthly tones. Laying upon him reminded me of when we had knelt upon the forest floor together. It reminded me of how comforting he was then, too. Of the power this man held, and the wonders he spoke of in private with me. “These terrors will not stop…” he then admitted far more quietly, “but I will not allow you to endure them alone. I only ask that you share honestly with me. Seek me out when sleep does not find you, and I will drag her to you so you may never seek her out again.”
I felt myself tunneling deeper into his hold.
I felt the safety of him engulfing more of me. He spoke as if he understood this better than I… and I believed it- him . I believed that he did.
“Will you come if I… call?” I asked him quietly. “When I desperately just need someone- a friend?”
“Whisper my name to the stillness of your chamber room and I will hear it,” he replied with such a tender tone. “I have been neglectful, have I not? Of our growing kinship?”
“I do not wish to burden you either, Merlin,” I spoke both quickly and freely. I could feel it now… the gentle ease my body had started to drift into within his embrace. There was something troubling him, and yet all I felt was the comfort of his kind words.
“Your peace will never burden me,” he whispered slowly in return. “And witnessing you in such pain brings me the utmost discomfort. A soul such as yours does not deserve to harbor anything but happiness, and I… I will not aimlessly bear witness to your suffering.” He had whispered this more quietly. “If you are to break, my dear Morgana- if that is what the tightly drawn string connecting us all is calling upon you for, then I will cut through every layer of skin I must to pick up your shattered pieces, however sharp the shards may be. Is that not what I had promised you?”
My hands slowly bunched the fabric of his cloak tighter as I held him closer against me.
He had given me- had always given me an opportunity which none before him ever had.
I was allowed to break in his presence.
I was allowed to shatter in his midst.
I was allowed to be what anyone would otherwise find unfitting for a young woman of my stature… and yet he did not shy from it.
“Do you trust me, Morgana?” He whispered quietly as those burning golden eyes held mine. And I found myself soon nodding, because I truly did. There was nothing I trusted more in this moment.
I had spent so long so… isolated. This castle had felt like a cage, and with each passing moment inside it, I could not help but question whether it was for my own safety… or whether my wings had been fully clipped by those whose words held more weight than my own. Whether I was destined, or fated to spend my eternity here.
These walls were suffocating. This life felt as if it hung in the balance, unsure of what limb to move next when my path had always been decided by my father.
I had not meant to cement myself so closely to Merlin… but he brought with him something I had yearned for since the passing of my father, Uther Pendragon.
This young Druid brought with him the freshest of air.
And so I nodded, unsure of many things in life but the most sure of this one thing.
I trusted the heart of the sorcerer which did not beat quite right. Something of it felt all the more comforting.
I trusted the mind of the Druid whose voice could reach my own shattered fragments, with no fear of the pain they may bring us both if I were to break.
And lastly, I trusted the vessel whose touch could carry with it such reassurance I knew not what to do with this night of mine but simply lay here, accepting the peace he brought me.
“I keep with me some… companions ,” Merlin spoke rather carefully, choosing his words with much thought. “They have remained hidden for it was what was necessary for the beginning of my stay… but there is a request of them in which I would like to grant, though I do not wish for you to worry. to be afraid.”
I could hear the hesitancy in his tone, and yet the peaceful sound of his voice coerced yet another nod from me.
“When am I to meet them?” I asked him quietly. I had not known he had travelled here with others.
“They are here with us now,” he answered, which in return made me sit up slightly against his chest. His words surprised me greatly. “If I reveal them to you now,” Merlin continued in that gentle tone, “my only ask is that you trust these words when I tell you that they will never harm you. You need not be afraid of them.”
I could feel a particular part me me draw curious at his words, however I allowed Merlin to slowly bring his stretched arms further around me, and once he placed his left arm, resting it against the left side of my shoulder, I watched as the fabric of his cloak began to move of its own accord.
This… this material… there was more to it than just his stature. I could feel my heart start to beat harder as something unveiled itself from Merlin’s cloak. I watched as something slithered its way out of the dark clothing of his left sleeve, its black body illuminated by the partial lighting of the candle near my bedside… and when its beady yellow eyes finally met mine, it took everything to contain the pure shriek threatening to release itself from my lips at any moment.
“A-A s-serpent-” I jutted out in a quick, hasty breath.
“ It is safe ,“ Merlin assured me gently, yet my eyes never left the serpent slowly gliding out into the open, clear air. Its black body did not touch me, instead it slowly suspended itself into the air as it looked directly at me with some expectancy shadowed in it’s glowing eyes.
And at first, I was absolutely petrified of the dangerous thing.
I had never seen a serpent so close, with its body wrangling through the clear air of this chamber, watching me closely. Those beady eyes held my heart at a pause…
But I did not shy from them… not like I had initially wanted to.
Something told me not to.
He had told me not to.
And I trusted it. Him .
I trusted what this sorcerer had chosen to reveal to me, however dangerous it would seem.
“What… is it?” I asked Merlin carefully as my fingers slowly detached themselves from his thick cloak.
“ She ,“ he whispered calmly. “It is a she. And these creatures have kept me with company when I had nothing else. I believe they may bring you the same comfort if you allow them.” He stretched his hand further and I… I allowed it this time. I slowly reached forward, allowing this creature to lean its head further towards my fingers.
“This… is the first I have seen a man take serpents as companions,” I had told him quietly with much honesty, though I kept my eyes trained on this snake. “Are they tamed? Your companions?”
“The farthest from it,” Merlin replied with all too much honesty, “but they are loyal creatures. And what they have promised is to alert me to a various degree of things.” I watched as this black snakes body swayed further. It was almost enchanted by his voice. “When you would like to pass words between something that will listen… something that is not a stone wall.. just whisper a request to do so and one of my companions will come. I will send them through the cracks within this old castle at your request.”
And I could only nod, enchanted by this Druid’s own words as I accepted his offer.
It was the feeling of this serpent slowly bowing its head to circle around my own outstretched hand slowly, its skin further cooling my own as I adjusted to its cool, scale textured touch.
“They have taken a liking to you,” Merlin explained to me with a solace trace to his deep voice, “and they have given their word to protect you… just as they have I.”
••
Chapter Twenty-Two: Mend The Trust He Shattered
Arthur
There were many things which took place this evening in which I could still recall come morning. One of them being the sleep my body found next to Guinevere.
It was not a peaceful rest by any means, but it was rest nonetheless. And with what Guinevere and I had spoken of within the confined walls of our shared chamber as night befell us… any sleep willing to find me after was wholeheartedly welcomed.
She had insisted- ordered , rather, that I join her come daylight to hand select the talent that would perform at the Commemoration Dinner following The Hunt. I had insisted that my work could not be interrupted so close to such an important event, yet Guin would not hear of such words.
Her words had a degree of finality to them which I knew somewhere within me I could not persuade. Her mind had been made, and that sharp mind of hers was an unmovable force once it settled, digging its roots deep into the confines of my own.
She and I had found ourselves at odds with one another yet again, her starting to truly question my hesitancy to consummate this marriage… and my well of excuses had since run itself dry. There was no explanation I could give now which would silence her spiraling thoughts- no reasonable excuse for what my disinterest was. We had found each other together each night and yet I did not act upon her unspoken advances.
She wanted more, but I could not give it to her. My body would not will it.
If I did not soon fulfill my own duties as her husband, her suspicions would only solidify themselves, revealing to her my true intentions.
And if I lost Guinevere… I would lose my footing with both my mind and this Kingdom. She was as tied to the throne as was I, her mind carrying with it a sense of stability for me. Merlin had seemingly taken a liking to her as well, and that itself was a different uphill battle for me to climb considering his aim for me to please her. He wanted nothing of me, and yet there was still something that had passed between us.
Something he was forcing himself to wholeheartedly deny.
I would not allow him to forget the stables, nor the bathing room. I would not allow him to forget that look etched into his handsome features as soon as he had realized that he had hurt me. And I refused to forget the dining hall where he- where he had seemingly heated the air around us just by his reaction to my words.
I knew it would hurt Guin greatly if she was to discover my feelings for another, but I felt it would break her entirely to uncover that my feelings were for a man. A man so close to her… to us . She would shatter at that thought.
But I was starting to dream of him at night… and a dream had come to me again this night.
A dream so absolute one could not tell the difference between both it and reality…
I dreamt of walking down the familiar corridor of where our chambers were located amidst this castle, halls I had walked since I was a child, and there was a dim light shining through from under the door of Morgana’s chamber at the far end of this corridor which captured my attention. I made my way slowly, my feet leading me with purpose as I questioned what this dream would show me. With each night I dreamt of him, my mind could not make sense of it, leaving me with just glimpses of what had transpired once I awoke.
The coyness of his smile. The glowing embers of his irises.
My answers were soon revealed through the crack of the slightly opened door as I approached. I could hear low voices, both of Morgana and Merlin, and as I peeked through that cracked door, I almost let slip a gasp from the sheer sight of what my eyes fixated themselves upon.
Morgan was nestled into Merlin’s chest, lying against it on her bed as he held her close to him.
It was only a dream… and yet I still attempted to listen to the conversation they carried on quietly amongst themselves as if it mirrored truth. Morgana was soaked in a layer of sweat, leading me believe that Merlin had been there to comfort her from one of her nightmares, for I had done the same the night after my fathers passing when rest did not find her not I, yet as I saw a serpent slowly reveal itself from the sleeve of Merlin’s cloak, my eyes grew large with fear by what this very unnatural dream was going to soon reveal.
I did not wish to see my sister bitten whether it be a dream or not, for I now knew of that bite and the horrors it brought upon the flesh… yet I could not look away. And when that serpent stretched its head out from Merlin’s cloaked arm towards Morgana, and I watched her lift her slender fingers to it to touch the black scales tenderly, I knew this to surely be a dream for the only one I had ever witnessed near those serpents was this Druid himself.
This was until I remembered how fond of Morgana Merlin truly was. How… different he was with her.
If I was to entertain this as reality, there was a good possibility that Merlin’s companions would treat her as Merlin did.
With such unwavering kindness.
Though but a dream, I slowly felt the tightness of jealousy trickling into my heart against my will. His companions were very blatant with their unfondness of me, and yet they allowed Morgana to touch them. I had shown nothing but respect deep within that forest the night I approached Emrys to request his help, and yet these companions of his had delivered a poisonous bite to my neck, piercing through my flesh and forcing their venom into my blood.
There was a realm of difference between my intentions that night and theirs, further feeding my jealous thoughts as I watched that serpent snake around the porcelain skin of Morgana’s hand.
And perhaps it was my deep unrest of such a sight- of those serpents welcoming her touch as they had Merlin, as Merlin slowly ran his fingers through the damp curls of Morgana’s unruly hair- which jolted my body awake suddenly, cutting short such a vivid dream. The sleep I was sure I must have gotten had left my body feeling rested come dawn, but my mind felt worn as I blinked the remainder of sleep from my eyes.
I was to leave the castle this day with Guin, however after a dream such as that one, I did not wish to leave this place at all. That dream was so vivid- so unnatural- that I did not know of what to think. It was a dream yet it left with such clear imagery, imprinting itself on my mind, and Guinevere had noticed the following morning as she laid beside me in her- our bed. I had not expected for her to rise for quite some time, but with our expectations for the afternoon, it was well of her to.
“What is it, Arthur?” She asked gently in this bed beside me as my torn body sat me up against the wooden headboard in this uncomfortable bed.
“I dreamt of a nightmare,” I replied honestly to my wife whilst slowing my shortened breaths, which forced her to raise from this bed further, sitting up with me.
“A nightmare?” She asked. “As in that of Morgana’s dreams?” There was worry laced into that kind voice of hers now. “Has someone entered the castle in the past days? An unfamiliar face? Perhaps this is unknown magick.”
“No… no, not of Morgana’s. This one was… different , but I do not remember the details of it.”
It would seem that my honesty with my wife would stop itself short here. I did not wish to worry this beautiful young woman, however. And if I were to explain my dream, I would have to then explain why I would claim something of such innocence as a nightmare.
“Strange… very strange. I believe it is still something we should look into, Arthur. If it is something more, I suggest we do not leave it be to manifest itself further within this castle. I will conduct a search for anything out of place once you and I return this day.”
… Shite.
This was not magick per se… but it did feel strange. I had never dreamt a dream so tangible before, where I had awoken in a bit of a daze, unable to decipher the difference between what I had dreamt and what I had lived.
“Let us take breakfast together,” I offered my wife instead, both willing to distract her mind from what I had indeed admitted, and unwilling to let this drift between us grow. The guilt of what I had felt so strongly whilst dreaming of another man, yet waking up beside my other half, had started to weigh heavily on my mind once more.
I no longer knew how to feel- how to process such a complexity between my mind and my heart.
My duty and my desires.
Each day I lived, and each night I dreamt… it left me all the more torn.
What I knew of now was that if Guin and I were to seek this day with our constituents- to come before our people- we would need to be united with our thoughts and actions.
This was the first time Britain would witness a ruling of both a King and Queen in many, many years, an opportunity Guin and I may only be given once.
I did not see Merlin before Guinevere and I departed from the castle. Morgana had managed to wake early enough to bid us farewell at the entrance, and she did well to inform me that Merlin had taken more time to rest within his chamber. There was a tiring unrest in Morgana’s eyes yet it was far less than the days which came before, leading me to believe that some sleep had finally found her troubled mind.
That thought had then beckoned that dream of mine forward once more- when I had witnessed Merlin in Morgana’s chamber, comforting her with such tenderness I had never seen from him before.
A dream which still pestered vividly in my mind, unlike most dreams I had dreamt in the past. This was one I was all too willing to forget, and yet my mind would not allow it.
I had wished to ask Morgana how sleep had found her, but there was no time before we said our goodbyes. Guinevere was already rushing us from the castle, insisting we take to the prepared Royal carriage quickly so we may arrive further into town before high noon.
The talent Guinevere and I would soon be tasked to hand select were first welcomed to our castle, however Guinevere found it best that she and I take this ride into town to appear before our people.
My father had rarely ever left the castle… and from what I could tell, Guinevere would not allow us to hide ourselves as he had once done, though we brought guards to ensure our safety amidst the unrest of this land.
I understood this reasoning of hers. The people- our people- should not have harbored the same fear in their hearts as they did for my father. If we were to unite this nation under our rule, we could not view the people who built our wealth as less than ourselves much like my father had.
I was not chosen as the King… I had inherited the throne. Therefore I was no different from those who called this land home.
And so I followed the lead of my Queen.
I listened closely to her words as she sat across from me within this carriage, accompanying me on our short journey. She spoke of the necessary plans we were to enact to end this famine within Britain, an oath of action that was already taking flight within the smaller villages impacted by the infertile soil and scant rainfall. Guinevere had requested a chart of rationing to which I had begun developing, taking note of the redistribution so our people would not go hungry as we determined what it was we could do to grow enough crop to survive the winter.
With Guinevere’s well-spoken, persuasive words, the Council offered no objections to our detailed planning. Instead, they assisted each other, each member of the Council now appointed to a region from which they were to collect information over the course of the next few moons.
What my beautiful wife and I were to wait upon in the meantime, was The Hunt, where we would hear first accounts of regions not within walking distance. Guinevere did not shy from suggesting we find time to travel after the festivities that were to take place within the castle in days time, and I found myself wholeheartedly agreeing.
I, too, did not wish to lead this nation from a throne like my father had. From the castle perched upon that hill. I had wished for what Guinevere had- what Merlin had… the unification under guidance that our people could trust.
And as this carriage brought us towards the entrance of a small tavern in which Guinevere had requested we use to audition such talent, I forced my mind away from the castle. I forced it away from the thought of the time Merlin and Morgana would soon spend together. I forced myself to commit my mind to my Queen and my people as I followed her out of this carriage which eventually slowed to a stop.
As we exited, we were immediately welcomed by a small crowd of our townspeople gathered outside the quaint tavern.
Our guards had remained close, however Guinevere’s steps came to a stop near the door to the tavern, her white, elegant, Pendragon crested cape flowing freely amidst the calming breeze of this bright, sun-filled day, as she turned to offer these people one beautiful smile. I watched the beaming rays of sunlight pouring from the sky, touch each small white flower woven into the large braid of her braided hair which cascaded down her back.
There was no setting in which Guinevere did not glow. She truly was the most beautiful woman in all the nation. Perhaps all the realms.
I could see these people here were somewhat frightened by our arrival, the look of uncertainty clouding their eyes, and rightfully so for this had not been done before.
We had not welcomed entertainment from our citizens before, for the Commemoration Dinner. Quite the contrary, in due fact. My father had barely presented any music at such a celebration that came each year- he had instead chosen to fill the otherwise silence of the hall with sounds of chatter as guests spoke amongst themselves.
In light of this new ruling, the citizens knew not of what awaited them. They had rarely laid eyes upon their now King for my father was strict with where he had allowed me to roam, though Guinevere had never shied from moving freely through Camelot in the past, and her openness to our people was what put a great deal of their worry at ease.
I joined my wife dutifully at her side, greeting our people with smiles and laughter just as she had, whilst joining the conversations she so seamlessly started with each man, woman, and child that gathered here.
I had been so engrossed in such conversation with my wife, listening closely to the citizens who both offered their condolences for the late King, and their well wishes for our reign, that I barely noticed something hit the metal plate of my armor’s leg covering until I heard the sound of a guard’s sword beside me unsheathe itself quickly.
All conversation between this welcoming crowd, Guinevere, and myself, seized suddenly at the sharp sound of metal, and as I finally turned to my left to face the guard who dared draw his sword upon our citizens, I watched as someone pushed quickly past the crowd to grab for a small child who was some feet away.
The man was older, his hair white as ash and thinning, while his body stood frail with age. I noticed the look of pure terror in his eyes while he shoved the small child back into the crowd before falling hard upon his uncovered knees, bringing them to the rough gravel terrain.
The silence which spread within the crowd brought the attention of its people to the old man who quickly clasped his hands together as those light, sorrow-filled blue eyes found mine.
“Please!” He begged quickly, pleading with me in a coarse voice. “Please spare him! He knows not what he is doing, Your Highness, please! He is a careless, careless child-”
I raised my right hand immediately at such sudden words, silencing the old man in similar tattered clothes to what this crowd wore. His bone thin legs trembled as he kneeled, his bare knees surely raw from both the roughness of this gravel path, and the heat that must have consumed each small bit of rock.
That same hand which had raised itself to silence the old man, then slowly lowered and stretched itself forward towards him.
I could hear the shifting of the guards metal armor as my men tensed. The guard beside me opened his mouth, whispering a quiet warning. “ Your Highness ,“ his words began, yet I ignored them as the old man’s eyes enlarged, looking at my hand as if it held a foreign object within it.
“Off your knees,” I ordered him. The hesitancy in his eyes was unmissable, but none dared to speak a word against my gesture now… and once this older man understood that this was in fact an order coming from the highest of ranks, he rather slowly reached for my open hand, accepting it with his thin fingers, and lifting himself from the ground.
His frail weight was nothing for me to lift, yet I knew it would weigh heavily against his feeble bones if he were to try to lift himself from the manner in which he had suddenly dropped to his knees. He was quick to release the hand that helped him, not wanting to take from me more than I was giving.
“T-T-Thank you- th-thank you, Your Gace, th-thank y-y-”
This very hand then beckoned for the one who stood behind him, somewhere within the crowd. “Bring the child forward,” I ordered.
And that was when this older man’s eyes grew wide with horror once more. I cast my gaze sharply to the guard on my right, who quickly sheathed his sword again, that slicing metal cutting through the complete silence, and the simple action seemed to bring with it a wave of relief as the old man stumbled aside, allowing the small child to weave his way back through the crowd towards me.
“My King, I assure you that the boy will be heavily punished for such indecent-” the old man began with more of his words, yet it was mine which cut his short.
“You will do no such thing,” I ordered, my eyes shifting to the older man before I turned my head towards the small child who shared this old man’s light irises. I found myself crouching down to the height of the boy as I took a knee, watching those light eyes closely while they were cast strongly towards the ground. “Have I wronged you, little one?” I asked the boy gently.
He still refused to face me, and I could see his own frail stature shaking, his hand resting straight at his sides. He was wearing a dirtied cotton shirt too large for him, and trousers which were tied tightly around his small waist, also too large for him. Even his tattered sandals did not fit his small feet, forcing him to take those uneven steps forward through the crowd to soon face me.
“ Iriah! “ The old man hissed to the little boy, forcing words from his tight lips.
“N-N-No, Your Grace- n-no. Please- please accept my humblest apolog-”
“Whom of mine has hurt you?” I then asked the boy, surprising him enough to turn that small head upwards toward me, those light eyes finally meeting mine as his longer brown curls of hair fell back away from his adolescent face.
“T-The King- th-the old-” this little one started, yet this older man interrupted him by calling his name sharply again under his breath. And as my hardened gaze finally lifted to the old man, he stumbled a step or two backwards.
“You may speak freely, Iriah,” I spoke in a quieter tone to the terrified child.
I could see the uncertainty in his eyes. He turned back slightly to look up at the old man, yet all the man could muster was a defeated nod, allowing the boy to speak with no further interruptions.
“H-He… he… h-he took food from my family. Food we needed.”
This child knew of the horrors speaking one’s mind could bring… yet he was courageous enough to cast a pebble towards the King of Britain. And if he were to be courageous in his action, then he must be courageous in his words.
These were the principles of a brave man.
“Arthur,” Guinevere whispered from her standing beside me, but I could feel the edges of my lips curve upwards. This child was no older than perhaps twelve or thirteen years of age, yet he held boldness I had not seen within this land since my father’s passing. And it was refreshing.
“I am not here to take from you,” I told the child quietly. I had wanted my words to reach just his ears, yet the silence from the crowd had told me all were listening in intently, unsure of what I and my men were to do next for such an insult shown to the throne.
“Y-Y-You are n-not?” The child asked me in a similar hushed tone, to which I slowly turned my head left, then right.
“We are to distribute rations to this town shortly. You have my word, little one- the word of the King
- that you will not go hungry come nightfall.“
I watched as warm light returned to these once-cold, light eyes as they widened at me. There was some murmuring within the crowd at my words, yet I was not quite done.
“And that there,” I pointed to the closed hand at his right side, “is one strong hand you have. Perhaps the old King may have cut it off for what you have done… but not many men can hit the target they set their eyes upon, nor with such accuracy.” The child’s eyes continued to widen. “It would be ill of me to take it from you… for there may come a day where I might need that hand at my side.”
The old man gasped quietly, echoing the increased murmurs of the crowd at my sudden request to the boy.
I knew the punishment my father would have taken, as did the people in this crowd… but I was not him.
“Perhaps I shall do well,” I continued, my smile widening to mirror the bashful smile on the boy which was only growing from my praises, “to be a ruler deserving of your service?” I then turned up to face the guard who would dare unsheathe a sword to a child, for my words were for his ears, and his alone. “A King is only as just as the men he appoints to protect him.”
And the look from this guard, Cyprian was his name, revealed to me he understood my words as he bowed his head in apology.
I felt the weight of a hand on my left shoulder plate, and as I turned, looking up to face my smiling wife gazing down at me, I slowly stood to my feet.
It was by that smile alone, I knew I had done well…
But it was the deep bow from the boy who stood in front of me, accompanied by the bow of his people- our people- which made my own smile fully settle. It was what I had told my wife since she and I were no older than the boy before us now.
I refused to be the one who raised me.
And furthermore, I refused to rule as he had…
With fear.
••
Chapter Twenty-Three: The King’s Return
Emrys
I felt a slight smile grace my tinted lips. I was unable to stop it from forming as my eyes finally closed, and I beckoned my companions to return to me.
Arthur had done well.
Very well.
“Merlin!” Morgana called out my name near the sturdy door to my own chamber. “Have you dressed yet?”
And the sweet sound of the young, beautiful woman’s far more lively voice only made my faint smile grow. I quickly pulled myself from the mattress of this comfortable bed to join the rather impatient woman who had surprisingly exercised a great deal of patience with me this day.
There was only one companion who had remained within the castle. The rest were to follow Arthur and Guinevere on their visit into town, remaining as an extension of both my sight and hearing. I had watched as Arthur approached the child who cast that stone, yet I could make nothing of his words very well. I did not want my companions drawing too close in such daylight with fear they may frighten the people who had gathered to greet both their King and Queen.
Then there was Arthur.
He was starting to notice more, and I did not want him knowing of my involvement. Not yet. For now, I needed confirmation on a few thoughts- inklings quickly growing, the murmuring of secrets whispered to me by my companions.
“Yes, Morgana!” I replied swiftly, nearing the door to my chamber. Once I pulled the heavy wood open, I was met with the glowing face and stretched wide smile of the young woman. I could not help it but to release a soft chuckle at the energy which contained itself within her. I knew she had waited patiently for this- for me- and so I stretched my left hand out, allowing her to grab hold of it before I closed the door to my chamber and succumbed to the young woman who whisked me down the corridor quickly.
“You have certainly well acquainted yourself with the books in this room,” I noted as Morgana travelled from shelf to shelf, pulling a book out and placing it after the next on the pile which grew in her hand.
“This is where I spent most of my time as a child,” she replied, turning her head back towards me before continuing on. I gave the young woman a nod as I watched her beautiful sunflower yellow dress sway this way then that with her small frame, and those tangled curls bounced against her shoulders and back.
She had asked me whether she should brush her hair before we took to the castle’s library, and I had asked whether she had wanted to. She told me she did not wish to, and so I told her there was no need. I had given my word to Guinevere that we would remain within the castle, and so I welcomed this young woman in a state in which she felt completely comfortable being in whilst in my company.
I had even told her she may wear a nightgown if she preferred it, but she explained to me that she had changed much earlier in the day to see Arthur and Guinevere off, and was far too uninterested to change again, declaring it a tedious process.
I simply told her I welcomed this, too. My only wish was to spend more time with the young woman, and after the visions- the memories- had disturbed her night, I would do what I could to bring peace to her day.
“Morgana?” I called, watching the woman turn quickly to me again from the farthest shelf from the table at the center of the library, which I was leaning this vessel against.
“Yes, Merlin?” She answered, her doe-like deep brown eyes quickly finding mine.
“You have not spoken much of your life as a child… was it a pleasant one?”
That seemed to slow the young woman to a stop, and she soon made her way back towards me with a large stack of books in her small hands. I watched her set them carefully on the wooden table, her gaze falling from my own a moment as she collected her thoughts.
“It was… yes. At times it was lonely, but that was only in part due to Arthur having many responsibilities. Earlier on, it was better. We were together more.” I could hear it in the tentative nature of her voice that she was choosing her words carefully, which only made my heart restrict itself further.
“Do you…” my own voice held that same tentative nature as I thought the words I was to say, through thoroughly. “What else do you remember of when you were a child?”
I knew that she did not remember it all. She could not, for she would not regard this castle in such a fashion had she.
She would not regard the man who raised her in the manner she did.
“The memories are… clouded. I believe my first tangible memory was sitting upon my father’s lap as he showed me how to hold a violin. My mind is a bit… shattered to the memories before. I do not know of how to explain it.”
I found myself nodding slowly at her words. There was something in particular I had been waiting to look further into, yet now, upon seeing Morgana’s nightmares for myself, I knew I could not take the time I had yearned for to understanding what it was exactly that Arthur had done to shatter the facade of her her memories.
What Uther Pendragon had done to create this false existence in the first place.
I had noticed Arthur’s unrest as well- both he and Morgana had been stirring in the night. The serpent I sent to his and Guinevere’s chamber this very morning had proven just that.
Arthur had had a nightmare.
And now my investment had altered itself from intrigue, to a rather serious concern.
Morgana was starting to- to remember. And though it would be a painful endeavor for the young woman… Arthur experiencing nightmares of his own was not something I had expected.
The real unfortunate happenings of it all was that I could not ask the one man responsible for it if I were to spend my evenings and nights tending to both Morgana and Arthur, resolving such unrest.
And then there was yet another issue, and that was the fact that Arthur… he… he had not yet… performed . He had not yet consummated this marriage between both he and Guinevere according to their conversation that befell them as did night. It was a crucial piece in my understanding of what it was which was pulling the King and the Queen further and further apart. I had sent my serpent through the cracks in the foundation of this castle to listen closely, and what they had returned to me with come early hours of the morning was surely more than something I was even remotely expecting.
There were many things I could assist the King with, but this… was not one of them.
Guinevere was a beautiful woman, truly a sight to behold, and she would be the Queen Camelot needs during such desperate times for its people. I was so assured of their union, I had not once thought that… that he had not- well, that they had not-
My mind quickly banished the thoughts starting to simmer to the surface. There was nothing more there , I reminded myself silently. Perhaps it was just the nervousness between a newly wedded pair.
Perhaps he was afraid of disappointing her.
Perhaps… perhaps he-
There is nothing else there , I reminded myself once more, unwilling for that thought to fully pass through me.
Surely that was all it was. The nervousness shared between the two. The expectations weighing upon consummation.
He would perform soon enough. The sooner he and Guinevere produced an heir, the safer their position on the throne would be. And Arthur knew of this, regardless of the delay he himself was imposing.
For now, however, I returned my attention to the young woman who had not removed that beautiful smile from her vibrant face as she started to flip through her books on the nature of this land. Morgana would ask me questions regarding specific species of plants and bugs, questioning what once was in Camelot yet was no longer.
I had not the heart to tell Morgana that almost all books on magick were burned long ago by her father after The Great War… but my people had kept our history alive, however dwindled our numbers now were. I had kept many books myself both hidden deep within the forest, and placed amongst the other realms, reminding me of what was once home.
These realms still flowed freely with magick as it once did in Camelot, providing safety for all who could pass through as a traveler, and said magick did well to stabilize my own with each journey I took past the perimeters of this land.
Though the old King was dead, the entrance to these realms were still heavily patrolled by Camelot’s guards, however my work was here in Camelot for now. We would need to heal this land before opening travel to the people of Britain once more, for the other realms would not welcome such closed minds into their home.
The world stretched beyond this realm, and it had been submerged in isolation for so long the citizens of Britain did not know of such worlds. Uther Pendragon had successfully contained the horrors he had inflicted here, instilling fear into the people of the worlds that existed in parallel with this one.
To undo the knots he had tied would take time… but it was not impossible.
And I had promised this bright young woman a land with trees that stretched taller than any she had ever seen before- rather, any she could still remember.
I intended to keep my word to her.
My time with Morgana went far too quickly as she walked me through the text she had felt so eager to showcase. With the evening soon approaching, Morgana and I had found ourselves sitting on the edge of a wooden table with her directly beside me, holding a large insect book across both our laps.
“So this is no longer, then?” Morgana asked, pointing to a Goldenhair Beetle that had been hand drawn next to the text in this book.
“Correct.” I nodded. “This species was attracted to the Amoris plant, a plant that can only flourish with magick seeped into its roots. Once we have restored that balance of magick to nature, they will then return in due time.” I explained before taking a bite from the apple I had picked from the bowl of fruit a servant had brought us as we remained in this library.
I then wrapped that arm around Morgana’s slender shoulders, holding her closer at my side with her warmth seeping through the thick fabric of my cloak.
My serpents had taken time returning to the castle, however I could feel the soul’s of each one. They had discovered more in which they deemed necessary to observe, and though I wished to use my magick to see through their eyes once more just as I had come dawn, the practice took from me great amounts of concentration and magick.
I did not wish to interrupt these moments I possessed with Morgana, for I knew not of when I would have another opportunity to be in her company alone.
“And what of this?” The young woman asked, pointing to another species of beetle, the Serpent Beetle, to which I nodded once more, holding the book firm with my right hand as Morgana turned her head away from me to take a bite from the apple I held in my left, my arm still wrapped around her shoulder.
The simple act brought with it the fondest of memories, making me smile.
She had grown so greatly… and yet I could see there was much of her which had not changed , I thought quietly to myself.
I brought that arm back to take a bite of my own, before returning it to her. I took no issue with Morgana wanting bites from my own, though there were many apples still in the bowl behind us on this desk. The fruit was to tide us over until supper would soon come, alluding to the quickly approaching time in which Guinevere and Arthur were to return.
The memory this brought, allowing Morgana to share this apple with me, was what had distracted me momentarily from hearing anyone approach the entrance to this room. The door to the library had been kept fully open, allowing guards to pass by it freely and take a look inside as they were tasked with watching us within this castle, however the sound of a man clearing his throat withdrew Morgana and my own’s attention from this large book to the King now resting his large frame against the doorway.
“You have returned!” Morgana exclaimed with a smile as soon as she saw Arthur, yet she made no movement to remove herself from my side. We had been sitting comfortably like this for long, and Morgana had yet to come to the point in this book where we could classify the many plants which no longer grew within Camelot. She was eager to know of what would return when magick flowed freely once again within this land, and I was all the more eager to show her.
“Morgana, retire to your chamber to prepare for supper. Merlin and I need to have a word alone.”
“ Arthur ,“ Morgana whined to her brother. “Can this not wait? Merlin and I are not yet done-”
“ Your chamber, Morgana ,“ Arthur’s words were chilling- cold. His tone held no warmth, leaving a feeling of uncertainty in myself. What had changed? I questioned quietly. Arthur had never addressed his sister in such a manner like this before.
“Arthur, you cannot just send me to my room. You are not our father-”
“ Morgana! “ Arthur’s sudden volume in his voice made the young woman flinch in my arms, forcing whatever words she may have had to say, back down her throat. “I am your King . And you are to obey these words as you would father’s. Now leave us.”
Morgana had begun to shake slightly in my arms, and that unrest in my heart from Arthur’s words were quickly replaced with pure anger. His sharp, cutting words paired ill with that chilling tone had terrified his sister.
“Hurry to your chamber,” I whispered delicately near her right ear. “I shall meet you there soon.” I could see the glossiness glazing over the young woman’s deep brown eyes as she looked to me a moment, before she eventually nodded and slid herself off the table. I made a note of what page we had ended our reading on, then closed the book and set it on the wooden surface I sat upon. Then I watched as the young woman scurried past her brother, bringing her hands to her eyes in the process before she disappeared into the corridor.
And the look of contempt on my face met the hardened features of Arthur’s as his and my own eyes finally met.
“ How dare you raissse your voice like that to Morgana? “ I whispered low, my tone slipping into that of my true nature as I pushed myself off of this wooden table. I could feel my magick start to pool, to gather, my emotion removing the seal and merging such power to my anger. Arthur walked further into this library before closing the heavy wooden door behind him.
“Councilman Algar is dead. He collapsed outside the tavern,” Arthur spoke more quietly now, though his voice was simple, devoid of all emotion. It was the look in his light eyes- the blankness of his stare- which reminded me of something- someone far more sinister. “I noticed your companions on the outskirts of the village as we travelled… is this… is this your-”
“Is this my doing?” I questioned, taking a step towards a man I now barely recognized, facing a look upon his face I knew all too well of.
“You have been known to act without counsel.” Arthur replied, voicing his concerns. “My men have suspected it to be magick, and with your companions traveling so close, I have been led to believe-”
I took yet another step closer, feeling the course of this magick now as my eyes glowed brighter at the King. I knew not of what I took more offense to: the mistreatment of Morgana, or the accusations of the King himself. And as I took another step, then another, approaching the man with hard-set features who could only resemble one man before him- the King who came before him- the rigid look from Arthur finally started to settle.
“I know not of the councilman’s death,” I told this man. “My companions were there to oversee, nothing more.”
“Then… then we must discuss-”
“There is nothing for you and I to discusss,” I all but seethed to my King, recalling the fear in which Morgana felt from Arthur’s cold, despicable words. “I do not know the man before me now,” but as I reached past Arthur for the door, his hand grabbed for my forearm before I could touch the handle.
“Merlin, wait,” his voice softened to a degree, yet it did nothing to dissipate the anger coursing through my bloodstream.
“ What had I said about you touching me? “ I whispered to him with a tone that sent a shiver through Arthur as he quickly let go. His eyes were returning warmth to that pale blue color, but I did not find it in me to care. The man I saw, even for just a moment, was a man I had no wishes to pass words between.
There was a young frightened woman locked away in her chamber who deserved these words of mine more than the man before me now.
“I took no part in the councilman’s death, I told the King as I reached for the handle to the door once more. “But if you are to raise your voice to Morgana like that again…” I turned my head slightly to Arthur whose gaze now echoed nothing but worry, “I will take part in your own. I may very well orchestrate it myself.”
And those were the last words I spoke to the King before I pulled open the door to the library and led myself through it quickly.
••
Chapter Twenty-Four: My Sister’s Keeper
Arthur
The silence at the dining table was quite deafening between Guinevere and I.
We had been the only two who had chosen to take supper.
“We have been home all but a few moments and you have managed to anger not just Morgana but also Merlin,” Guinevere noted, before dipping her bread in her soup and taking a small bite of the soft loaf piece. “I know not how you do it, Arthur. How you manage to be so brazen with your words-”
“The councilman is dead,” I reminded my wife as I pushed a few peas from one side of my plate to the other, my appetite having left me long ago.
“Yes,” she nodded, “and we will do our best to uncover what had happened during his distribution of rations to the village… but Merlin and Morgana had been enjoying their day together. You know very well that you were in the wrong to impose with such information when we ourselves do not know of what caused his demise. Councilman Bertram was who insisted on magick, but that has yet to be confirmed. Councilman Algar could have eaten something poisonous. He could have been bitten by something. The body is still with the specialists of the dead, determining the cause, all this of which you know.”
Guinevere’s voice was direct. And she spoke with a voice of reason, for she was indeed correct. She knew not of my accusations bestowed upon Merlin, yet I could tell she suspected that I had done such a thing.
Having seen the fire which burned past Merlin’s irises as he looked upon me in that library… I knew now that my accusations were distasteful at the very least. And the way I had raised my voice to Morgana… the look in Merlin’s eyes had told me that he had withheld the true extent of his anger- that his threats were not to fall upon deaf ears.
And yet, something more than only just the death of the councilman had triggered such a rigid response from I…
The way Merlin had held Morgana against him…
The way she had taken a bite from the very same apple that he had…
The comfort in the way they sat beside each other and spoke so freely.
It had reminded me of my dream. It had tortured me once again with the bleak thought that Merlin and I may very well never have that same amount of comfort with each other. And I felt more shame trickle in as I thought of how I reacted so suddenly to such compiling events. It was simply a dream , I then reminded myself. It was not right to allow it to cultivate, feeding off my jealousy.
And Merlin was indeed correct. Morgana did not deserve to be spoken to in such fashion.
“Arthur?” Guinevere questioned, coercing my attention back to the dining hall in which we sat alone. “What is it… what is it that has grown between us? What has you troubled so greatly? These days it feels as if you find time to invest more of yourself in the affairs of Merlin and Morgana than of you and I.”
Her words almost caused me to drop my metal fork onto this plate.
“I…” I began as my mind searched for more adequate words than those it brought before me. “I know not what you speak o-”
“When your father passed, Arthur… I understood. You needed time then… however a moon has now come and gone, with another just on its horizon, and yet you and I have yet to consummate this marriage. With every moon I bleed, more whispers will be forced through this castle. Whispers of my infertility.” Guinevere explained as she set all her utensils down to turn her head and face me.
“I have… my work, it-”
“ Will always remain ,“ my wife finished for me. “Your work will always remain. I do not wish to think of bringing a child into this life as a duty, but I knew the perceptions that came with the title of the Queen, and I wholeheartedly welcomed them as long as it was with you at my side. If I was to wed, I wished for none others hand but yours , and if I was to bear a child, I wanted nothing more than for it to be yours … so what is it then?”
I did not have a settled response for her words. I should have expected this conversation in some regard, yet I had not prepared myself for it.
“I love you, Guinevere,” I told her, using a rather serious tone. “I just… I may not love you in the way you need- deserve to be loved.” At this position in our marriage, the well of excuses had long since dried. I decided I would do my best to give as much honesty as I could to the woman who always honest with me, and prayed that this evening did not end with the entire castle angered by my words.
“That… is…” Guinevere’s gaze remained fixed on mine. “… unexpected.”
“But after The Hunt,” I offered, unsure of how I was to connect this before the words simply slipped past my lips. “Let us get through it, then I will find the time for you and I. There is much we need to act upon- things far more pressing and urgent- but once it all has passed, we will have more time to discuss this. Us.”
I knew not of what time I spoke of besides the time I was attempting to grant myself, but Guinevere did eventually nod, understanding a perspective I was fabricating.
This was the last time she’d agree to wait any longer, that much was evident.
And the rest of supper was taken in silence, neither her nor I finding any words to continue such a tense conversation.
As my wife soon retired to our chamber for an elongated rest, I instead made my way towards Morgana’s chamber, noticing her door was slightly ajar with light pooling into the corridor from such a crack. As I drew nearer, I could hear the soft sobs of Morgana as Merlin’s voice spoke softly to her. “All will be well,” he whispered, and once I made it to the frame of her large wooden door, I could see them standing near the front of Morgana’s bed, with Morgana in Merlin’s embrace, him comforting her.
Hearing her soft sobbing fractured my already tattered heart, forcing more pain through me than I thought possible as it drowned my soul in deep regret, but Merlin must have heard my steps approaching, for he gently released my sister before turning his head to the left to meet my gaze with his more hardened features.
His eyes held nothing but disappointment for my actions this evening.
“May I have a moment with Morgana?” I asked in a more gentler voice. Merlin’s gaze held a threat close to it, yet he stepped away, saying nothing as he nodded, then silently took his leave.
Morgana refused to look at me once I entered her chamber fully. I could see the redness which overcame the whites of her eyes from her crying, and noticed the irritation around her eyelids. It only worsened the state I was in.
I slowly closed the door behind me to grant us more privacy, for my next choice of words were for my sister, and for her alone.
“I deeply apologize,” I all but whispered to the distraught young woman. “I did not mean to raise my voice at you.”
This seemingly caught this young woman’s attention, for she ran her hands through her mess of curls before finally turning to face me near her chamber door. She did not say anything more, however, she simply allowed me to continue.
“There was a death of a councilman this afternoon. Though that is no excuse to have lashed out, my words more biting than I had expected, the stressfulness of such a situation had bore its rigid teeth, and I acted out of the unrest that has plagued me as opposed to responding with needed grace, and for that sin alone… I deeply apologize, Morg-”
I had not managed to finish my words before Morgana rushed into my arms, the force of her body forcing me to stumble backwards slightly, but I wrapped my arms around her smaller frame as soon as I found my footing once more.
“ Do not ever do that again, Arthur ,“ she spoke, her words muffled by the material of my cotton long-sleeved shirt.
“ I will not, “ I assured her in that same gentle voice.
“Very well,” she replied, “for I do not wish to keep burdening Merlin with the task of consoling me.”
Those words of hers brought curiosity to my own heart. “Has he before?” I asked her. There was nothing I wished for more than to know of what these two spoke of in the company of each other. What their bond was seemingly forged by.
“Promise me you will not anger if I speak honestly.” She spoke into my chest where her face was still buried. I could feel the wetness of her tears dampening the material, but I cared not. I just held her tighter against me.
“I promise,” I then replied, assuring my sister. Her honestly would be the only window I had into the chamber in which Merlin kept his own mind.
“He visited me once night befell us the prior evening. I was having another nightmare, and he somehow awoke, arriving at my chamber to calm my thrashing self,” Morgana admitted, making my eyes widen in such clear surprise. “He spent his night in my chamber, though I swear to it that he only held me, keeping me company until I was able to peacefully return to rest.”
My… my dream…
Was it-
Was it not so, then?
Was it not a dream, then?
Merlin really had been in this room the night prior. He really had laid down next to Morgana, holding her sweat ridden self upon such a terrifying fright her dreams gave her.
“I am not angered,” I told my sister with honest words, “I am… I am grateful that he brought you such comfort. I have been taken with my responsibilities as your King… that I failed to tend to my responsibilities as your brother, and for such a disgraceful act, I apologize Morgana . I now vow to understand what has troubled your mind, and will see to it that it is resolved. A vow I make now as your brother… not your King.”
Morgana’s arms around my waist tightened as she nodded into my chest, trusting the words I pledged.
“Why is it you do not trust him?” She asked me quietly. And it was a question I knew not of how to answer. “Does your protection of me trouble you so greatly? For he resides in this home with us, Arthur, and he has never once offended me.”
I felt my chest tighten at her words.
She spoke of no lies. Morgana was special to Merlin, that much was clear. I was then reminded of his words in the stables- how Morgana reminded him of someone long ago. I knew he would not speak much more of it then, yet now I vowed to ask him why
- to understand who that person once was to Merlin, and why my sister had gained his favor so quickly.
“If I speak honestly, do you swear it that my words may never leave this chamber?” I asked my sister, and she was quick to nod her head into my chest, allowing me to continue. “Merlin, he…” I found the words catching themselves in my throat but I continued on. “I… have developed… feelings for him.”
Morgana separated herself from me with such haste, she herself stumbled backwards before she stabilized her footing and her eyes met mine.
“You have… you have developed… feelings? “ She then asked, but her voice remained low, as if she understood the complications which would befall with such a confession if it were to reach ears it certainly should not. “Does Merlin know of this? Of how you… feel?”
I slowly nodded my head to the smaller woman. “I believe he does.”
“And does he… well, does he feel the same?”
This was a question I had pondered for well past a moon now.
Did Merlin feel the same as I did?
Was he as drawn to me as I was him?
Could he ever allow himself to… given the situation I had now found myself in with Guinevere as my wife, and the responsibilities I held with my position on the throne?
“I… I believe him to, yet I do not know for certain. Besides his feelings, there is the issue I have laid claim to of having a wife. And my… my feelings- they are not suitable for a King to have. There is no world in which he and I could develop this further, and perhaps this realization has led me to a place of jealousy between you and him.”
“Jealousy?” Morgana asked, her words but a quiet breath, to which I nodded.
“He is different when he is with you,” I explained. “He has a rather known reputation for being cruel, and yet he softens himself when you are in his company. This is not the Merlin I am graciously allowed to bear witness to, and so the time you two spend alone… it brings upon me a great degree of jealousy for I am not to him what you are.”
“ Arthur ,“ Morgana’s voice was even softer now, “Merlin, he-… he is unlike any man I have met before. There is a familiarity to him which brings me great peace, and perhaps one could not help but fall for such an intelligent, handsome man… but Merlin has not advanced me in such a way. He is not courting me; he is merely helping me understand more.”
I found myself nodding, allowing Morgana’s words to seep themselves deep within my heart.
“This castle… it is all I had,” my sister spoke with no restrictions to her words. “It is all I could remember, and for so long, father convinced me it was the safest place for me to stay…”
I could hear the pain in her soft voice, but I remained quiet, allowing Morgana the space to cast every burden of hers onto me if she wished to. She had never spoken of this castle in such a way, and yet I should have known that the ways in which our father kept her here was unnatural. She very seldom left this place we called home.
“So he kept me shackled here,” I heard her continue on. “He caged me, forcing me to remain here where he could keep his eyes on me always… but Merlin speaks of more. He speaks of what was before- before our father made Camelot what it now is now, and Merlin has opened my eyes to the possibility that perhaps father made choices he believed were right, but not choices that were for the betterment of the people in which he governed.”
Her words reminded me yet again of Merlin and mine’s time in the stables. How he had spoken of building a world where those with wild souls like Morgana would fear not the dangers existing on this land.
Morgana was describing to me a world in which Merlin had already promised to bring to Camelot. To her.
“I loved father dearly,” my sister assured me, “but I do not harbour such naivety to not understand the horrors which he executed. I can still hear the screams, Arthur- the dying voices of those he killed just past the doors to this castle. Father would send me to my chamber, but those screams echoed through the halls of this home, thickening the air inside it like smoke from fire. I once believed what he was doing was just, yet as each year passed, aging me, I did not remain so blind.”
There was much Morgana spoke of now which broke my heart further. I had tried to shield her- to maintain the image my father had painted of himself for her in her mind… but Morgana was no fool.
She never had been.
Her words made me question what Merlin may have revealed to her during their time alone, but what I was almost certain of was that he had not told her of what he had done to our father. There was still a great deal of grief behind her deep brown eyes when she spoke of the late King, mirroring the love she still bore.
“It is…” I spoke, breaking our silence. “It is quite alright to mourn a man who was not good, for there was moments when he did good- when he was still a father. Do not feel ashamed for loving a man capable of such atrocities, for father’s mind was not all together.”
Morgana’s eyes softened completely at my words. “Did father… did he ever speak of our mother more to you? He would never mention her to me.”
I found all words leaving me entirely at such a question. My father had vowed for me to take many secrets to my grave as he had himself, and if I were to answer my sister with honesty, I would be breaking my promise to him. Most importantly, I would fully shatter the fragile mind of the woman I cared most for.
She need not ever understand the truth.
“Father kept many things to himself,” I instead replied. “I believe it best that we leave such questions in the past where they belong. As of now, it is only you and I, Morgana… and that is all that matters.”
Morgana remained quiet for a long moment, before eventually nodding. “And what of Guinevere?” She then asked me.
It was a just question, and yet I knew not of the answer.
“I will find a way to explain my feelings to her,” I told my sister, committing myself to my words.
“And of Merlin?” Morgana questioned, making my eyebrows crease in some confusion. “If he feels for you as you do for him, have you not questioned what he must endure with you being bound by marriage? Bound to the throne, and our people? Have you not considered the burdens he carries?”
Her question forced me to divert my gaze, casting it down to the floor quickly in absolute shame.
Merlin had been so insistent on my pursual with Guin, I had not once thought of this in such a light. I had so desperately wanted him to admit his feelings- to reinsure my own- I had not thought that this forbidden connection could potentially be so detrimental him as it was I.
I had only thought Merlin may not accept this for the title I held… for the fact that I was a man… that I had not once thought of what any admission could mean for him in regards to my marriage.
What it could mean for us…
For the throne, and the people who turned to it for guidance and protection.
“My heart breaks for you, dear brother,” Morgana spoke, “but it is not only you who has sacrificed. Perhaps you would do well to ask Merlin what he himself has sacrificed to cultivate a better world for Camelot and Britain. He speaks of such beauty, that I myself have questioned how a man of his stature could withstand such patience required of him.”
And perhaps… perhaps my sister was correct with such a thought.
Emrys was known by all the land as a true demon- a Druid with such little care for those beneath the power in which he held…
But Merlin… Merlin was whose eyes held nothing but worry when he unintentionally released such old magick, burning my wrist permanently. And I had thought then that the worry I laid witness to was tied to his affection, but perhaps that look in his eye was more than just that.
Perhaps he was more frightened of what power he held.
Perhaps he was terrified of what he had become- the sacrifices he had been forced to make to see to a better world.
He spoke of such peace… and yet he was plagued with such darkness.
I remained in Morgana’s chamber for some time, sitting beside her at the foot of her bed as we spoke freely to each other like we once had as children.
I was not eager to return to my chamber, but I forced myself to eventually. Guinevere had long since found sleep by then, and I attempted soon to do the same.
Morgana had quieted my restless mind with her words. The jealousy I once had was no more, for as she spoke of Merlin, I could see a smile dancing upon her lips.
He brought her such joy.
He made her feel safe. And he brought validation to the sea of emotion behind her bright eyes.
I did not dream- or rather, not dream- this night. Once I awoke, I could see the sun had not risen yet, but my urge to work was strengthened as I pulled myself from this uncomfortable bed and prepared for the day. Guinevere was still fast asleep once I took my leave from our chamber, and I requested to the kichene servants to bring my breakfast to my study. There was no part of me that wished to take breakfast alone this day having known Merlin would surely not join.
Gisela did as requested, allowing me to continue with my chart of rationing in light of the Councilman’s death. A funeral would be held in days time, though his wishes were to be buried on Camelot soil in light of his demise, making the proceedings fairly simple.
Once I heard the knock on the door to my study some time after breakfast had already been delivered, I thought it to be Gisela bringing me tea, and called for her to enter. It was to my great surprise once I lifted my eyes from this chart to face a man who had close the door behind him before entering the study. As he removed his hood, pushing the material back into his shoulders, my eyes slowly widened.
“Merlin,” I spoke softly. “This… is unexpected.”
He took the necessarily steps towards the chair positioned across my desk, before sitting down in it. I noticed he looked far more rested this morning which warmed parts of me I did not expect it to.
“There is work to be done, is there not?” He asked me, though I noticed his features now. He was not only rested, he harbored a look that did not resemble the harshness of the evening before.
“Yes, but I-… I thought you to be angered with me.”
Merlin shifted his gaze for a moment, looking down at my work sprawled openly upon this wooden desk in front of us both.
“You apologized to Morgana,” he replied.
“She told you?” I asked, my voice now a little more tightened as I thought back to the conversation between Morgana and I. Had Merlin entered her room once again? After I had left?
This handsome man shook his head no. “She is still resting. Have you forgotten of my companions?” He then asked me. “They are my eyes for when I cannot see, and my ears for when I cannot hear. You brought her much comfort with your words, and because of that, I cannot find it in me to remain angered.”
His words had only frightened me further.
Had this meant that Merlin could hear more than just my words to Morgana? Had he heard my confession to her? Had he heard my disagreements with Guin? And of what we had found ourselves at odds about?
What exactly had this man fully heard for the duration of his stay here?
••
Chapter Twenty-Five: Forbidden Fruit
Howdy, folks! Don’t mind me- I’ll be doing a lil catch up since my schedule got thrown off last week (dad’s death anniversary on 7/11 so I was with my family)
Enjoy, lovelies!
xoxo
P.S. edited chapter will go up on Substack tomorrow
Emrys
I had heard some of the conversation which passed between Arthur and Morgana, my feet refusing to carry me towards my own chamber, and instead kept me there, remaining near Morgana’s closed door to listen in closely.
This was what stirred me awake the following morning come dawn- how pleased I was with Arthur’s tenderness towards the woman who needed his kindness the most during such times of uncertainty.
I had… I had heard of his confession to Morgana. Regarding his developing- however forbidden -feelings towards me… but that was when I had decided it best to take my leave from that corridor, and withdraw my serpents from there position within the walls of Morgana’s chamber. I did not wish to listen in on such a conversation, and the displeasure coursing through each of my companions with every word Arthur spoke was something I needed to distance them from.
I had made a promise to them… one I intended to uphold, regardless of what feelings the King was supposedly building upon.
Regardless of what… what I myself may have felt upon hearing such words fall past his lips.
When I awoke and dressed the following morning, leaving my chamber before the sun took to the sky, there was a servant who kindly greeted me on my walk to the dining hall, explaining that the King had requested his meal to be served in his study instead this day. I had meant to… perhaps surprise him come dawn by joining him for breakfast- the first we had taken together in quite some days- but I found myself instead walking past the dining hall towards his study upon such a revelation as to where he was.
Arthur had not expected for me to join him at such an hour, but my companions were resting, allowing me a moment of time to be with him truly alone. I had never viewed their company as imposing in the past, however the relationship between the King and I was growing far more complicated. It was safest for he and I to carry out our conversation in otherwise complete solitude, to not muddy the minds of those who relied on my commitments.
“May I ask you a question?” Arthur asked, withdrawing me from the thoughts I had succumbed to, to meet him in this present moment. I gave him a nod from across this wooden table, allowing it. “Who was that person to you… the one Morgana reminds you of?”
I was taken aback by Arthur’s rather sudden question. I should have expected it, and yet it still took me by surprise for I knew not how to answer.
“Someone I once knew,” I replied rather plainly, forcing past my lips an inkling of the truth. “Someone taken from me all too soon.”
“The Great War?” He offered gently, but I did not answer him with complete truth in that regard.
“Just someone I had once known,” I replied instead. He needn’t know more of the past than that. Not yet . “Now,” I continued, rising from this chair across from Arthur, “a councilman is dead, and at no fault of my own. Where are we with appointing a new councilman to continue the delivery of rations?”
Arthur glanced down at the papers he scribbled onto with his quill, but his gaze lifted to my own as I approached the shelf of books he kept within this study.
“First we will bury Councilman Algar, and all that follows after will be decided by myself and the remaining councilman.”
“And so you will let the people starve?” I questioned Arthur. “I believe you made a promise to a young boy just outside that tavern the day prior. The words of the King carries weight, Arthur, and must continue to do so.”
Arthur’s eyebrows raised greatly at my admission. I could see the questions formulating behind this light eyes, and yet I could not offer any answers. There was still far too much he did not understand.
“You… you are correct,” he nodded, agreeing. “I will converse with Guinevere and appoint a new councilman come day tomorrow.”
His more assertive tone boded well with me, while I had since started to rummage through the shelved books in this room. The distribution of food was far more important than what awaited the councilmen’s journey into the afterlife. “You should know that I have not spoken to Morgana of the horrors your father inflicted…” I told the King honestly, “yet you should also be aware that Morgana did not need for me to shed light upon them. She had known of much that existed in the past… and of the near future, and she may begin to question more, craving to understand just what had happened.”
That made Arthur’s back straighten in the wooden chair, calling my gaze to him a moment. I did not wish to lie to this man, but I also could not admit to him that Morgana was starting to remember much more than even I had predicted.
She was starting to piece together the lies her father spoke to her about her childhood. She would soon uncover the secrets of the Pendragons, and the ways in which this family had kept her here, protecting yet also caging her. Once those secrets were revealed, Arthur would need to hold within him an explanation for such pain the Pendragons had been at the center of. Morgana would have questions, and Arthur would need profound answers to carry her through such discourse.
“Ask for more how?” Arthur asked, yet he knew of the answer before those words were ever spoken- I could see the weary in his eyes.
“For now,” I replied instead, “allow me to carry her burdens. It is but a drop in the sea of unrest this land has had thrust upon it. Your focus should remain on the upkeep of your appearance with the people of this land, for you and the Queen are in a position to bring stability to a realm cluttered with pain, and that is not something to be taken so lightly.”
Arthur found himself slowly nodding, though his gaze did not leave me as I returned to the books I was perusing through.
“Morgana was always something I could not control. Her mind has had a yearn for knowledge I did my best to contain on behalf of my father… but I do not wish to be my father. I wish to maintain the vivid soul of a woman who made me fight for her attention as children, for it was always so fleeting.”
That made me chuckle lightly as I balanced a book in one hand, and sifted through the pages with my other. “You have grown older,” I spoke more so to myself than to the King, “and yet you still fight for her attention as you once did over the white Sirah Flowers in the Quistrias Markets.”
These words had slipped from me before I could truly think them through. I had said them before I knew of the complications they would soon cause me.
“That-… was… very many years ago, Merlin ,” Arthur replied quietly to my unsuspected words. I had not meant to reveal this to him- the extent of my involvement. And neither of us spoke again for a decent well of time. There was no part of me which was willing to explain myself to him, nor explain my reasoning for remaining so close all these years.
It was I who finally broke the silence unfortunately, unable to dwell on such a silence any longer, and allowing Arthur to think of just how long ago it truly was. “The rations then, show me the current distribution,” I asked as I turned fully toward the King and bent down beside him.
Arthur pushed his list to his right for me to see, allowing me to turn before I took in the organized delegations. He had a great deal of well-detailed planning, and his notes were structured. I was honestly quite surprised by the minute details he had further elaborated on, giving me insight into his projection over the following moons as we predicted that crop would indeed be scarce.
“You have spent a great deal of time on this,” I noted almost immediately as I leant in closer, bending down nearer to the King.
“I…” Arthur began, before dropping his voice a bit lower. “The survival of the people- my people- it relies on a consistent distribution of food. We may see a decrease in variety amongst the castle because of the rationing, but it is a small sacrifice amidst the starvation that has plagued our land.”
As I looked upon Arthur, I found myself at a peculiar loss for words. He was… he had been placing the utmost importance upon the work required of him, and perhaps I had been a little too… harsh with my reasoning.
There was not a day which passed where I did not feel the crippling weight of all I sacrificed to arrive here in this moment, but there was much Arthur had sacrificed as well. I felt his sorrow hang above him like a storm-filled cloud after the passing of his father, and with each night I was forced to return to the soul of Uther Pendragon, my heart was left with nothing but turbulence.
I was going against what I had promised this young, handsome man.
I did not bring upon his father a swift death as my word assured him. I did not bring him death at all.
And so I found myself doing something rather unexpected now. I placed a hand upon this King’s shoulder as I read deeper into his notes. It was so unexpected that when Arthur’s gaze shifted to me immediately, I moved to pull my hand away once realizing my misstep, but he reached up across his chest for my left hand with his left, and placed that large, warm hand over mine, keeping my touch there indefinitely.
I… well, perhaps I was not prepared for those light eyes of his to hold mine for as long as they did. And I could feel it just as soon as he touched me, resting that hand upon mine, that I was not prepared for his touch either. For him . As my gaze shifted, I attempted to distract myself with anything else. I looked down upon his written work more closely, ordering my attention here instead… but it was the movement of Arthur’s fingers which swiftly returned my gaze to him as I turned my head.
He had started to slowly move his fingers into the spaces of my own, lacing them together, and the unrest this simple action brought me was immediate. My right hand placed itself on the table in front of me, attempting to stabilize my weight, however I could feel my head growing lighter just by his touch alone. I knew not of how to react to this- to him .
“A-Arthur-” I whispered gently, unsure of how to untangle myself from this intricately forged web I had since found myself in… I had since placed myself in.
“Just-” he soon replied with a quieter voice, “just a bit longer… may you please grant me that?”
And after some thought, I found myself eventually giving Arthur a slow nod. I would not reveal this aloud to any soul that walked this realm or any other… but his touch was… comforting . Even for something as little as this… I still found myself unable to pull away from it.
I remained focused on his work for it was all I had, reaching for the map laid upon this wooden desk and bringing it closer to Arthur and myself. I could feel the pace his heart had taken upon touching my skin, and yet I forced- begged myself to disregard it. His touch alone had triggered a slight release of my magick, and above all else, I knew I must remain calm with fear that I may hurt him again. My eyes lowered from the map to the hand Arthur rested in his lap, calling my gaze towards the burn which wrapped around his wrist, and I felt that harsh pang of guilt once more.
This burn would remain with him forever. It would serve as a constant reminder for the horrors that existed within me. It would remind him of the beast which resided, sharing this vessel with I.
And I loathed it.
This was no bite from my companion. I had touched him with magick long since banished from not just this realm, but all realms. It was of what came before The Great War. What came before I was forced to become what I was now.
I had not realized that as I traced the map, completing the trail with Arthur at my side, my right hand would reach up every so often to push the strands of hair which fell forward, back behind my ears. I had not noticed until Arthur did something that suddenly made my body still during my review of the hand-drawn map.
He lifted his right hand from his lap, turning to me slightly and bringing to my attention just how much closer I had migrated towards him. I turned to Arthur rather suddenly, not prepared for the way Arthur’s light eyes found mine as he reached up slowly, ever so delicately, to tuck some of those long strands away from the framing of my face, freeing my sight.
I could feel the skin he touched whilst doing this- I felt the rough texture of his fingers… but his touch was all so delicate. It was careful. And the manner in which his gaze held my own had started to… stir something within this vessel of mine again. I was unable to look away from him. I was unable to pull away from him, as the air around us thickened greatly due to my unpredictable power.
“A-Arthur…” My voice was soft as his name left my lips. I felt his thumb gently brush the sharp carvings of my ear, forcing the slightest shiver to travel the complete course of this vessel. I had not meant to lean in any closer, for this was already too close. We had drawn far too close to one another, and as Arthur’s gaze slowly lowered, seemingly analyzing every feature my face possibly held, I did what I could to attempt to gather myself from the trance he had put me under. “A-Arthur-” I whispered again, unsure of my own actions.
I could feel his gentle hand traveling further against my heated skin, dragging his fingers past my left ear towards my neck, and the intoxicating feeling this washed me in made me shiver more, unable to stop this growing feeling.
I had no more control in me to exercise. Whatever he was to ask of me in this moment, I would surely grant him for the spell I was now under felt unbreakable.
“P-Please, Arthur-” I more or less begged him, with my eyelids growing heavier and heavier as each moment passed.
“ They were Montips ,“ he whispered quietly to me. His eyes felt like fire itself igniting through me, and the way he studied every single part of me made my laced fingers tighten their hold on him. Arthur had started to gently stroke the skin of the back of my hand with his thumb, sending additional shivers through this body I occupied. I was one more moment away from fully succumbing to his touch, yet it was his words that kept me somewhat grounded in my resilience.
“… Pardon? “ I whispered to him in that same quiet voice, however the strain pushing against my tone made Arthur finally lower his gaze fully to my lips. Our faces were but a small distance, something so easily eliminated if one decided to lean in further, yet I used the last bit of control I still owned over this vessel to attempt to understand what Arthur had said.
“ They were Montips ,“ he returned in a mirrored, hushed tone. “The flowers in the Quistrias Markets… Perhaps you could not draw nearer to me then, close enough to see neither them nor I in great detail… and so I ask you, dear Merlin…” his words felt like the smoothest silk material as he wasted not a single moment to continued. “Have you… drawn close enough… to see me now?”
And I had felt many things- many disruptions within this vessel for what I had been made to become so inorganically… but I had never once felt such an irregularity within the beating of my own mutated heart as Arthur’s eyes met mine once more.
When did he…
When did he become so handsome?
“Arthur…” I whispered again, feeling him drawing closer, so close I could hear the deepening of his breaths released into the sliver of space between us. That subtle noise had made my skin burn stronger, though I could not stop this any longer. My call to him was beyond the parameters of my control.
“Is…” he whispered delicately, “Is this not close enough?” His fingers had started to deepen their touch, holding me steady by the line of my jaw as they tenderly kneaded into the sensitive skin. “Would you prefer I come closer?” He then asked, his eyes falling to my lips for a moment more. “Would you… would you allow it, Merlin? “
I knew of what my answer to him should have been… and yet I found myself doing something that would permanently alter the course of my future with this King. My eyes finally betrayed me as a whole, lowering from his to the fullness of his lips, and as my heart constricted itself further from such sinful thoughts, I felt myself slowly nod.
I knew of what this simple action would bring upon us, but I could not deny this any longer. Not like this.
The sacrifices I had made had brought me to this very moment, existing within this castle… yet the choice I was to make now were of purely selfish thoughts. I did not think of the throne, of the Queen, of the land, nor of its people.
I thought only of the many years spent watching Arthur. I thought only of his kindest nature- of how such good had been derived- birthed , and somehow still nurtured from such unadulterated evil.
As I leant in, choosing it be I to close that strand of distance between my lips and his, lips I had long since closed myself to the thought of ever feeling against my own, I felt my eyelids lower themselves fully closed.
And it was only once my eyes were shielded from Arthur and his piercing gaze, did I finally gain the balance to hear the footsteps quickly approaching the study, forcing me completely away from Arthur not a moment later as I recognized the soft steps of the young woman, and her bare feet against the stone floor.
••
Chapter Twenty-Six: To Bring Upon Him Such Happiness
Hi lovelies! My schedule this week will be normal, but I’ll be using tomorrow to upload all the new chapters from this book this week onto Substack. I’ve just been working a lot of 12 hour days, so once I get home, all I got in me is the ability to write lol, but I’ll be leaving a bit earlier from my job the rest of the week to make time for everything!
Enjoy, lovelies!
P.S. A kiss is coming very very soon, and I promise y’all, it’s gunna be worth it ;)
Arthur
My heart was beating ferociously , pounding itself in a tormented, rapid succession against my chest, and reminding me of its clear, truest intent.
I was given a very minuscule amount of time to adjusted to the feeling of Merlin pulling himself so quickly from me, before the door to my study was pushed open with not one knock prior, announcing their presence, and Morgana allowed herself in.
“Arthur, where is it? “ She demanded immediately. I was still rather surprised that such a moment had been ripped away by the woman who was standing at the entrance to my study as a whole, for it was still quite early for her to have even risen in the first place.
“I surely know not what you speak of, my dear sister,” I told her honestly, though Morgana’s accusations were never limited, she could very well have been accusing me of any sort of thing.
“My violin! “ She then whined, her voice quickly abandoning such an accusational tone to then be replaced by a more high-pitched irritance I was all too familiar with being at the receiving end of. “Where is it? I had set it on the table near the front of the castle’s entrance the day prior and now it is gone.”
I felt my eyebrows furrow themselves some at her words. I was still attempting to sort myself through the scorching moment Morgana had so suddenly interrupted. The moment Merlin was… he was… going to…
…He was to soon bring those tinted red lips finally down to mine .
He was to… allow it. A touch we had not shared before. And the way his irises burned such a vibrant golden hue, my dear heavens … my own body could not resolve such a discourse it had left it in.
He had not rejected me this time .
He had not reject my… desires.
Then those flowers , I thought quietly to myself, recalling the memories of my time in the markets with Morgana when we were once much younger. I believe I had not taken to my thirteenth year yet, and Morgana could not have surpassed her tenth for long during the first time her and I travelled there.
Those markets were filled with the most beautiful flowers overflowing each box they were nestled into of almost every merchants stand, yet Morgana had developed such a deep infatuation with the Montips in particular, white flowers that bloomed with a light pink color at the very edge of each petal, something one could not have noticed unless they were seeing the very thing right before their eyes, that she would cry to our father for days if he did not allow her to go look at them when the season caused their bloom.
I had wanted to play with her during those warm summer days, perhaps anticipating that each year I grew older, her and I would have less time to enjoy ourselves together, but she had insisted we walk the market instead, viewing every stand which bore those unique flowers.
The market was no longer… those flowers now only blooming a great distance within the forest where Morgana and I were forbidden to travel to by our father, but that simple memory was one I held the closest to me.
I believe it was the years Morgana was the happiest I had seen her.
This revelation now meant that Merlin had been watching me for far longer than I had suspected. He knew more of my younger years than I could ever have predicted, inciting such a feeling from within me that I knew not how to respond whilst also considering the great weight of my position.
The way he responded to my touch- to my words- had made every part of me ache with pure need to understand more of him- to touch more of that smooth, heated skin as I peeled away the layers guarding his own true intent. I had never grown with such want in such a manner before, but in that moment, I had fully forgotten myself. I had forgotten of my position to the throne, and of my dedication to my marriage.
I had forgotten that he and I were still here, remaining within this well guarded castle, and that there were servants at every corner who could have very well discovered us, though I was certain that none would allow themselves inside this study as Morgana had.
When I watched his eyelids slowly lower themselves by my touch, drawing himself nearing and nearly losing himself fully as he leant into the fingers that could not restrain themselves any longer from feeling more of him… all I saw, all I felt, and all my thoughts were of him. The desire within his eyes had burned so fiercely, I had questioned how much of himself he truly concealed from me because of my position. My responsibilities.
I wanted for nothing more than to feel what more of himself he could possibly release within such confines of which he held his emotions. The way he had looked upon me just moments before, his eyes slowly closing… it reminded me of the way I had looked upon him in those stables.
I had finally felt it- as if he laid his eyes upon all of me. As if he studied every feature of mine as delicately as I had him. He had finally revealed to me some inkling of who he had known me to be, beginning at such a young age for he and I.
That clear want behind those eyes of his made my heart lose the constant beating, resorting to something that made this complete want of mine only intensify, surging such desire to the parts of me I held no control over when in his presence.
“Your… violin?” Merlin questioned this fiercely bold woman with a voice which put in great effort to return to a steady tone, and Morgana must have been far too taken by her pursuits to locate this missing instrument, she did not notice the scarlet scattered across Merlin’s face due in full to the moment we just shared between us. “My apologies, Morgana, I believe it was I who took it.” The young Druid finished.
That earned Merlin the gaze of my sister and I as we both looked to him with surprise cast upon our features, my face tilting up further from his position still beside me.
“I had noticed it to be out of tune and so I adjusted it for you. It will now hold its correct melody far longer, but I do offer my sincerest apologies Morgana for having not returned it to the place in which I had found it before you awoke. I knew not that you would waken so early.”
Morgana’s large brown eyes slowly widened, as did the smile that swiftly crept upon her face by Merlin’s admission.
“Do you play?” I asked the sorcerer, whose eyes found mine at such a question, before he slowly nodded his head down towards me. I could see those golden eyes of his adjusted themselves slightly to no longer look directly into mine. Instead, he repositioned them to the map in front of us at this desk, and the touch of color quickly fading from his fair skin was beginning to return.
“I play many instruments, but I prefer the sound of the violin-”
“You must show me!” Morgana exclaimed, unwilling to allow this young sorcerer enough time to even finish his words. “Please!” Then she turned those large eyes towards me to ask of this once more. “Please, dear brother, please allow Merlin but just a few moments this morning to show me! You must know how desperately I have been wanting to learn!”
It was Merlin who answered the young woman’s ask before I was given a single moment to do so myself.
“As much as I wish to, dear Morgana, the work that is expected of me this day-”
“Go,” I insisted, interrupting the sorcerer myself as I glanced back up at Merlin, who in return met my eyes fully once again. The expressions quickly scattering across that handsome face of his had told me he had found himself taken aback by my acceptance to Morgana’s proposal, but as I had looked upon his face as he first processed Morgana’s ask… I could see more and more light ignite behind those beautiful eyes.
He had wanted to go with her. He had wished to spend more time with her.
And for the very first moment since Merlin had stepped inside this castle… I had found myself wanting for him to go with her.
I wanted to see the smile which graced his lips when he was with her, and though I was not the reason for it in the past, I soon realized that I could be now. If I allowed my jealousy to subside, I possessed the ability to bring such a smile upon his full, perfect lips.
I just wished to see more of that happiness in him, much like the smile which graced his lips as he recalled the Quistrias Markets rather unintentionally. His happiness overshadowed my jealously now, and as I watched another smile form across those tinted red lips, I felt the warmth he brought to my body only spread itself further, flowing through me as I could only assume magick did with him.
“Are you certain?” He asked me more quietly, his words surpassing the cheers of happiness Morgana rung out from the entrance to this study as she clapped her hands together in excitement, and I simply nodded my head up towards him.
“You wish to,” I whispered quietly in return, “as does Morgana… and I believe I made a promise to myself that I would see to it that you enjoyed yourself more.” I could not help the slight smile gracing my own lips by the way Merlin was looking at me now, heat rising to his face once more. “Spend time with her this morning, and I will tend to our work as you do.”
Merlin’s utterly beautiful smile only stretched with each word to fall quietly past my lips.
“Now go ,” I insisted once again. “That is an order, Merlin.”
Merlin nodded, possessing a smile that only seemed capable of growing. “I… will return soon then,” he assured me.
I nodded in return, watching closely now as the man took the steps necessary to approach the young woman who was presenting such pure happiness of her own, as if I had outlawed all shoes in all the Kingdom or something of the sorts. And as Merlin allowed my sister to lead him out of this study, I watched as his head turned back slightly to look at me from my position still in this chair.
The light in his eyes made my heart beat in an even more unpredictable manner, accusing me of having not given her a substantial degree of time to gather herself. And when the young sorcerer gave me a slow, final nod, replacing any words of thanks he may have had, I found the amount of appreciation in those eyes all the more damningly alluring.
This was the last moment he and I shared before he quickly followed my sister back through the large doorway.
I remained true to my word.
I worked with diligence to finish what Merlin and I had started together, existing in a state of peace for the very first time whilst Merlin took those moments between he and Morgana in private. Guin had left me be to work, for she had work of her own as she prepared with the castle servants for what was to come with the celebrations of our people within these castle walls.
I wanted for nothing more than to join that Druid and my sister, but my duties had remained here with this work, and the manner in which Merlin had turned to me from the doorway of my study… the look in his mesmerizing eyes alone… it gave me purpose to continue with this diligence.
Once Gisela had returned to me with tea, I had ordered her to inform Merlin that he was to spend this day with Morgana if he so wished to. That our work would be here waiting for us once again, come dawn the following day… and as the sounds of the violin echoed through the walls of the castle, barely reaching my ears past the thick stone… I could not find it within myself to interrupt their time.
And so I worked. I listened. And I thought of nothing else but him.
It was not until supper quickly approached us, when I was finally forced from this desk, then this study, to find both Merlin and Morgana so they may prepare for a meal with Guin and I.
I had forfeited more time alone with this Druid to see more or that smile of his, but once I soon walked the short distance within these halls, I noticed that the sounds of the violin were coming from the dining hall itself.
And the magnificent melody flowing through it was one I knew Morgana not to have known of. Or the ability to play so beautifully.
I kept my footsteps as light as I could, unwilling to reveal my quickly approaching self with fear this music would not continue, but that beautiful melodic sound was soon slowed to a halt once I appeared at the open door’s arch to the dining hall. Merlin’s gaze quickly found mine with the violin still resting against his left shoulder, but Morgana’s eyebrows creased in lack of understanding as to why he had stopped until her eyes followed where Merlin was looking now.
She had not sensed my approach like he had.
Across both their faces were the most glorious smiles, and as Merlin’s gaze settled on me, choosing to lower that violin with great care onto the dining table they had leant themselves against the ledge of… for once, his smile did not fully wither away from his face at my interruption.
“Morgana,” I spoke to my sister first, “we are to take supper soon. You should return your violin to your chamber, then join us if you so wish to.”
Morgana was nothing but the brightest ray of light as she beamed with happiness, quickly nodding before carefully removing the violin Merlin had gently set down, and scurrying off past me to do as I asked. One of my promises to my sister, given to her the night before, was that there would be no more orders from I unless determined absolutely necessary. Moving forward, she would have a say in what she could and could not do.
I would not treat her as our father had.
I would not become our father.
And this promise held more honestly when I thought of Merlin’s words in my study. Of how Morgana knew far more about our father’s horrors than she may have ever let known.
My feet carried me a few steps further into the dining hall, nearing the man whose eyes had not left mine since finding them.
“You should return to your chamber as well,” I spoke lightly to the Druid now that we were alone once again. “You may take these moments before we eat to do with it as you wish. Perhaps to draw another bath of it soothes you.”
“There… is no need,” Merlin returned, before he quietly retreated from the ledge of the table he had leant against with Morgana, taking to the seat he usually laid claim to during our meals together, adjacent from my own. I noticed more color return to his elegant face, but he said nothing else as he looked up, then gestured slowly for me to join him at the table.
I was to my own respective seat with great haste and sat down myself, enjoying the way Merlin’s eyes remained on me as I did.
“Did you… did you enjoy yourself, then? Morgana may be the happiest I have seen her in a very long time.” I told him, to which Merlin wasted not a moment nodding his head. More of that beautiful hair fell forward past his face from such an action, framing his perfect features.
“And of the work presented for us?” He then asked.
“Almost finished. The sun will rise again tomorrow just as it always has. We will have the time to return to it then, with the Hunt just days from now.”
Merlin seemed to agree to my words, for he angled his beautifully set features further in my direction, unwilling to look away whilst we finally found that comfort within our own privacy once again.
“This night… will you accompany me?” He asked in a further hushed voice.
His words swiftly brought on a fit of unexpected coughs erupting from my throat as soon as I hear them, myself unexpecting of such a bold ask, but Merlin was swift to clarify his means, his face just as well deepening with color at what he had quietly propositioned.
“I- I meant- I wish to see the room your father kept locked away. The room the key which hangs around your neck opens.”
And that clarification was very much needed… for if Merlin was to invite me into his chamber at any given moment, I would go all too willingly. I wished nothing more than to continue what had barely yet to start between he and I, before Morgana entered that study this morning. I wished to be… certain of what would have followed had we not been interrupted.
Instead of voicing my thoughts- my wishes
- I found myself nodding, accepting his request. “I will take you to it,” I assured Merlin further. From how Merlin had spoken of it in the past, it led me to believe that he had known of this room far greatly than I did.
“Very good,” he nodded his head towards me. “And… and Arthur?”
That smile had not left his lips, I sweared to it. Even now, as he openly gazed upon me, his eyes attempting to hold my gaze regardless of the heat within this room growing gradually once more- his doing I was now certain of… his happiness was so evidently clear from how this day had gone, I felt my heart swell at the thought of giving him such time with Morgana, hoping this day had been an adequate apology for the day I had ruined upon my return from the tavern with Guin.
“Yes?” I asked him far more quietly in an attempt to mirror his soft tone, I did not want his words to reach anyone else’s ears but my own with the door to the dining hall still open.
“Thank you…” he gently spoke, “for… allowing me more time with Morgana.”
But my acceptance of his gratitude was interrupted as we heard footsteps approaching this hall, removing from me my opportunity to speak to this Druid with such openness, and Merlin quickly reached for the hood rested against his shoulders, pulling it upwards to conceal his far more flustered features as the heat administered into the air quickly dispersed.
Supper carried on as well as was possible for it to.
Guinevere spoke largely to Morgana and Merlin, listening to my young, bold sister as she recounted her exciting day with Merlin. I could see the surprise on Guinevere’s face once she had first turned to me, almost to truly confirm that I had indeed granted such a thing, but there was approval in those loving eyes of hers, and I found peace knowing that I could still earn those gazes from her after all that I had admitted to her.
I had not meant to hurt her with my words. I had never meant to hurt her…
But there was no denying this rift between us- something that grew from a place of my own father’s wishes for me to wed, with little regard for my own feelings towards the now Queen.
And having had the morning I did with Merlin… there was not a moment Guin and I had ever shared where I had longed for any touch of hers so deeply as I yearned for his. Even as we all took supper in the midst of each other, my mind remained on the far more reserved sorcerer to my left, who kept to the polite conversation but refused to meet my gaze from beneath his cloak’s thick hood.
I forced myself not to take any offense to it. We are to be alone again soon enough, I reminded this aching need inside me. His tongue would soon find the opportunity to speak freely to me, as he had… his eyes would soon find it safe to meet my own whenever they chose to… and that hood would soon return to his shoulders, allowing me to truly see the way his skin grew flushed with warmth whenever those eyes did.
After our meal had been finished, we had all returned to our appointed chambers for rest.
Guinevere spoke of her day to me in the privacy of our own. She had questioned whether I was to finally unpack the remaining items that were still inside crates stacked upon themselves inside this room, yet I could not answer her.
The feeling of this chamber once being hers alone was still felt so strongly by I.
This bed did not feel like mine. This space still felt all too much like a stranger existed inside it now, though Guin and I had known each other for so long…
“This night… will you accompany me?”
Merlin had not meant it in the way I believed him to… and yet that request made my entire being stir . I imagined what it may be like to lay beside him once more, much like I had in that old cottage in the woods. I yearned for those moments we had shared, once again.
To cook for him again. To tend to him, resolving his forgetful nature of eating.
Being alone with him then had felt so… pure. So beautifully private, and our own.
And if our circumstances had been different now…
I could not help but dream of an existence where I was granted the opportunity to awaken beside him each day dawn came, surrounded by the long strands of that fiery red hair sprawled against the pillows we rested our heads upon.
I could not help but imagine a world in which our obligations did not fully shatter such a vivid, perfect dream.
••
Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Treasury Of The Pendragons
Emrys
This unwavering smile.
This… this feeling coursing through me.
It was the way Arthur had insisted- ordered me to leave his side, to spend those moments accompanying Morgana… I could not shake this deep rooted surge of warmth that overwhelmed this vessel. It had felt as if my heart had finally split itself open at its mend, releasing all magick which floweth through me.
I did not know of how to stop this smile that stretched my lips thinner, and I was conflicted with whether it was from the most free-spirited day spent with Morgana, showing her closely the spell I had placed on her violin- that it may never relieve itself of a tune again for her, regardless of where she was to store it… or whether it was from the morning taken with the King.
He and I were far too consistently finding ourselves in the company of only each other, speaking all too freely with one another. I knew the temptation I felt in his midst was wrong. I knew my desires were wrong, they were wholly unacceptable, and yet as I prepared myself to leave this chamber once night settled itself, all I could think of were those light eyes. Eyes the color of a sea as it reflected the sky.
It was the way he looked at me which plagued every crevice of my mind.
And his touch…
My left hand gently reached up to feel the skin near my ear and neck where he had gently grazed his fingers… where he had kneaded those callused fingers deep into the sensitive skin. I could feel my own breaths falter at the thought of it now, my skin beginning to pool heat there before it spread itself elsewhere.
My companions were to remain inside this chamber this night. I did not wish for them to endanger themselves if for any reason Arthur and I were questioned for our intentions walking through this castle at such an hour. They also deserved their rest after having kept an eye on Arthur during his journey into the villages, and they would need their strength for what was to come…
The death of the councilman had meant more than I had revealed to Arthur, it forcing my hand in ways I did not anticipate, requiring more of my companion’s service.
As my companions rested against the stone floor of this chamber, with me taking to the bed, I waited patiently for the faintest knock upon this door. And when it finally came, I rose quickly.
The hour which had befell us assured us that Morgana, Guinevere, and the servants had all taken rest, but as I opened that door quietly for the man who stood before me, I could see strength in those light eyes. He did not look the slightest bit tired. More alert, if anything.
“Merlin,” he whispered quietly to me. It was both fascinating and captivating how his eyes always managed to find mine so quickly. I could not help but take a few steps forward, closing the door to my chamber softly as Arthur took a step to his right which allowed me to walk at his side. I knew not of where we were going, so I allowed Arthur to lead us. He himself had worn a dark brown cloak this night, covering his body much like I had done mine, and once we departed from this familiar corridor, he and I chose to lift our hoods above our head, remaining amongst the shadows as we walked quickly.
I could see we were moving closer to the rear end of the castle, which further confirmed my suspicions that the late King’s chamber was where this room was indeed located. And the way Arthur was leading us, avoiding the path of any guards, I followed close for he seemed to be aware of the routes they were assigned to take. Very aware. He brought us through a sliver of space built between two walls to bypass the guards centered near the back stairwell, before taking another winding passage up, one I hadn’t known existed.
I believed I now understood how tiring work this was for my companions; learning the passageways built by the late King in the time we had been away. Once we reached the door to the late King’s chamber however, Arthur suddenly slowed his pace to a halt, almost forcing me into the back of him before I managed to slow my own pace.
“My… my apologies. I just-… I do not return to this room often. Or at all, rather.”
I found myself taking a short step forward, then another to his right. For a moment, I knew not of how to respond. I wanted to act upon his hesitancy, however what I was to do would be necessary for what was to come. He did not know it now but he would soon. “We will not stay long,” I attempted to assure him. “I am only here for one thing.”
Arthur turned his head towards me. “What is it you search for?”
“Something I hope you can show me,” I replied. “I need to retrieve the flower I sent you to remove.”
I had not known what to expect of Arthur’s response, but as I watched him slowly nod his head, I was still quite surprised. He took those few steps left toward the door before reaching past the slit in his cloak to pull from a pocket of his trousers a metal key. I noticed how quickly he moved to both unlock the door and usher us through, before he quietly closed the door after we were inside.
This room was cold, and dark, but the light from the moon above pooling into the open window facing the rear end of the castle illuminated enough of it for us to navigate.
As the King led us towards the room’s armoire, I grew more and more curious, unable to calm my intrigue at where Arthur could have possibly be leading us to. It wasn’t until he pushed the hanging clothing to either side and this man stepped into the armoire, did I then think perhaps he was making fun.
It took this King reaching back for my hand, insisting I take it, for me to finally realize he may have been completely serious. I found myself with no choice of my own but to slip my hand in his, allowing him to pull me through the complete darkness, opening another door at the back of this piece of furniture for us to walk through.
This was by far the strangest thing I believe I had ever done. One compliment the late King had earned by this was that he had hidden this passageway quite well.
We soon entered more darkness which forced from Arthur the following words. “Shite. The torches have not been tended to.”
My eyes were quickly adjusting to the darkness, allowing me to see what lined the tight walls of this small hidden passageway. I then let go of Arthur’s hand to allow myself to raise my fingers slightly and whisper, “ illuminae .“
The torches quickly lit themselves ablaze once more, one succeeding another down this tightly winding stairwell, and allowing us a clear path. Arthur turned back towards me with a slight smile, giving me a nod before he started to lead our descent down these steep stone steps. I was quick to notice the surge within the air as we descended lower and lower, almost feeling what powers remained within the room we would soon approach. The Treasury of the Pendragons. I had been delaying the request of having Arthur bring me here, for just as the King had grown hesitant to enter the chamber of his late father… I had reservations of my own.
Every relic stored within that room would remind me of the horrors enacted to have obtained such ancient pieces. It would remind me of the home that was brutalized at the late King’s hand… and I had had enough to remind me of such, my heart did not need to fill itself further with hatred than what already lay within it.
I remained close to the back of Arthur, noticing his steps slowing once we took our last turn, to face a single door at the end of this stairwell. Arthur reached inside the neckline of his hooded cloak to pull from it the key he had kept around his neck at all times, much like his father, and once he bent lower to place the key inside the lock to the wooden door, I felt a sudden rush of something pass through me.
Something that felt like a spark, igniting more of both mine and his magick.
It forced me to adjust the strength in which my magick flowed through me, for I wished not to be near Arthur if I could not promise his safety in my presence. Something was calling upon the burning flames of my heart, yet I did manage to suppress it as Arthur opened the wooden door to complete darkness. I could sense additional torches lining the space of the walls, which drew from my lips the same spell that would ignite them. “ Illuminae ,“ I whispered, carefully to expel a very minute amount of magick with hopes the lack of stability coursing through me would not unintentionally set the entire room ablaze. Arthur took a step to the side to allow me fully through, and as I caught sight of the contents within this room… the only emotion I bore was immediate disappointment.
Yet then again, I should have expected nothing less from Uther Pendragon- storing these ancient wonders in here so carelessly, as if they were an afterthought.
I expected nothing less for a man who feared only that of which he did not know.
Magick.
“Here,” Arthur spoke, his hands lifting to his hood to push the thick material back onto his broad shoulders as he took more steps towards the rear end of the room. This place was rather small, far too small for all that the late King had stolen after The Great War, and what he took from my people shortly before it. I recognized the books he had kept, stacked upon themselves on a few shelves. Uther had suspected these books were the only of their kind… but this was why he was here no longer.
This text was known to those beyond this realm, and as the King closed those ports of travel, he also closed himself to those wonders. To the cities beyond Camelot and Britain that were overflowing with magick, for this had been the only realm to outlaw it.
And Camelot had paid dearly for such a price, all under the guise of the late King who promised the world he would lead us into would be one of absolute peace.
All he had successfully done was strip a once flourishing land, with once flourishing people, of all its beauty, forcing the citizens into complete isolation at his hand. Arthur had never travelled past this realm, so he knew not of what beauty lay just beyond the entrance past the forest. He knew not of what freedoms were bestowed to the people who chose to live in harmony- those touched by magick and those not. It was only his father who had seen such a thing as an imbalance of power, and that was due in full to the fact that Uther Pendragon wanted that power for himself.
It was a wish that magick could never grant him. There was no spell which could turn a man into a sorcerer, for it was a bond bound at birth… and so he stripped this land of it entirely, turning a gift into a curse for all who dared still use it.
He annihilated the very foundations of this land.
While Arthur was looking through the shelves for what we had came for, I travelled more slowly through this disheveled room. The metal swords Uther had kept here, fastened upon the walls near the Pendragon crest, were old. Ancient, rather.
What Uther knew not was that this metal was of no use to him. It was forged in a forbidden fire, enchanting the metal itself to act as a release for magick, creating an extension of a sorcerer’s gift.
To the late King… this was nothing more than useless metal. And this was how I knew that the late King had not fully read the text he had stolen from my people. He had simply taken just to take .
As I continued through the room, it took Arthur little time to finally find what he had been searching for, and once this young man turned, revealing to me what was placed in his hand, I found my eyes starting to widen.
In his hand was a closed wooden box… yet I could feel what power laid within it. I approached Arthur, reaching my hand out quickly for him to give it to me, which he did, and as this wooden box was then placed in my outstretched palm, I could feel this vessel relieve itself of the air it had not breathed out since I recognized the intricate designs of the wood once in his hand.
I managed to secure the latch on it first, for only the lid had shut closed, and if Arthur had tilted it for any reason, opening the unlatched lid, he would have forced upon this vessel and my magick a great deal of unfathomable pain. The flower within it may have been one of the most powerful weapons to exist within any realm, yet the engravings on the box brought upon me both clear surprise and urgent worry.
The one who must have crafted such a thing was one I had not expected to see any remnants of within this realm. Not the realm of Britain.
“What is it, Merlin?” I heard Arthur question carefully, and as I turned this wooden box around with the fingers of my right hand, my left hand lifted itself to remove my own hood, pushing it back onto my own shoulders much like Arthur had. There was a small table near the shelf Arthur had led us to, and I gently then rested the box upon it.
“I know not of how this flower found itself in your father’s possession… but I do know of who crafted this box, and it… it does not make much sense.”
“You… you had mentioned this flower was what had kept you from this castle,” Arthur spoke as he took a small step closer to me, studying my now visible features amidst this warm light that filled the otherwise cold, dust-ridden room. “What is it, Merlin? What is it exactly that it does?”
I finally fully raised my gaze to meet the King’s. Even is such poor lighting, his elegant features were not lost on me. If I were to bear any honesty, those features were becoming harder and harder to resist my eyes from landing upon. I was aware of what was right, and I was aware of what was not, yet the way he had looked upon me in his study- the way his touch had felt… it… it was as if he had cut down whatever barriers remained between his soul and my own. He had forced my mutated heart to beat in such a unique yet frightening way, that I now found myself drawn to the man I had watched mature from a young age. I had taken my years in parallel with his, aging as he had, and though I had told myself as he approached my home deep within that forest, that I could cast this… this attachment aside… Arthur had reignited a flame long since put out by I.
I had sworn to both myself and my companions that I would not lose sight of our purpose here. That I would not allow the string connecting Arthur to I, to pull upon me in any direction that did not align with my promise to both them and I… and yet he had. From the care in which he had shown me during my stay in that old cottage, to the care he had shown Morgana all these years… he had pulled upon that string so tightly, I had no choice but remove the barriers I had placed with fear this taut string would finally break.
I had made a more prominent promise to my companions… and that was the promise of keeping Arthur’s mind whole . I would protect him from the fate we Druids knew of, choosing to alter the prophecy held against stone. I was to make him the King I knew him to become, regardless of the words- the whispers once told amongst my people.
I could keep him safe … and yet, in my efforts to do so, I had ventured far too close to him.
“This flower,” I gestured to the box on the corner table to my left. “It allows any who possesses it to protect themselves from magick. It weakens the ability of those touched, and was the reason the sorcerers fell during The Great War. It was what your father had used against my people.”
Arthur’s eyes grew larger at such words. “Yet you had… had you not said this is of your people?”
I slowly nodded my head. “It is of magick itself. And it was used by those before your father as protection against the darker nature of magick. It was what kept a balance between those of a good nature, and those who succumbed to the darkness of magick. How your father then found it in his possession, I do not know of… but I do know of the artistry that molded this box.”
Arthur remained quiet for a moment as he allowed my words to fully seep into him. I could not tell him of the full truth, but I now understood more of how this castle had remained for those years following The Great War.
I now understood of Morgana’s awakening- of what was ripped from her for having made this her home.
Uther Pendragon certainly did not understand it… but the spaces- the holes within Morgana’s memory… This had been the reason for such a horror of her forgetting much of what happened long ago.
She had been so young, I thought to myself, once believing it was the terror of that fateful night which made her drown the memory of it, but the rapid development of what resided within her was now owned by a rather clear explanation.
The closing of this enchanted box would bring upon more than just her awakening.
It would bring upon us forces that may require me to travel once more past the very realm of Britain, forcing me to leave with one who was not touched as I was, for if this flower were to pass through the realm’s entrance in the possession of I, it would momentarily strip me of my magick, alerting the protectors of the passages to just what it is I now was. What I had become . I would not be able to shield my identity.
Yet I had no choice.
It was a must that I seek out the very creator… the one who could explain their involvement in the horrors this very weapon had brought upon my people.
This mysterious sorcerer had gone by many names… but I had come to know her as Nimue .
The Lady of the Lake.
••
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Make Certain Not To Spoil It
Getting everything updated on Substack after work. Just haven’t had time to edit unfortunately
This one is also unedited but I’ll circle back in the morning
Anyhoooo, enjoy lovelies!
xoxo
Arthur
The worry cast upon Merlin’s face was immensely evident.
His gaze had repeatedly lowered itself to the wooden box on the table, yet I knew he bore no intention of explaining this in full.
I could not believe it to be true… that this very flower was the reasoning behind my father’s victory. It was the reason as to why he held such control over the magick in this land… and as Merlin studied the box closely before he had carefully set it down, I could see more unsurety coursing through those warm, golden coloured eyes.
Something was not right here, this much I knew. Merlin looked disturbed each time those beautiful eyes travelled down towards the wooden engravings carved into the sides, something I only assumed to be a design built for such a flower, but the swiftness in which he closed that latch alluded to this object being more powerful than I had ever possibly imagined.
He was petrified of that now latched cover opening for any given reason, but even with the latch now securely in its place, that fear of his did not subside in the slightest.
“When you had first instructed me to remove this flower from this room, you had said to place it inside the home of the late Blackenwell. If this flower holds such power, why is it you would suggest I place it there? Is it a safe enough distance between here and the castle?” I could not help but ask these questions, for Merlin had been rather confident in the killing of the councilman. He had revealed to me that the councilman was the only one who would know him responsible for my father’s death, and I did not fully understand it.
“That home is protected,” Merlin replied quietly. “The one who resided there before The Great War had built the home stone by stone, lathering it in magick unbeknownst to most who have now forgotten much of the old ways. Distant magick much like what resides in this box here.”
“Who resided there before the councilman?” I asked this Druid… but he remained quiet for some time, glancing down at the box yet again as he chose his next words carefully.
“Before… before the councilman called it home… it was a place I once had,” Merlin finally spoke, and yet the tone his voice took was far quieter than before, those words of his nothing more than a mere whisper.
And this revelation alone forced my eyebrows high in sheer, blatant yet utter surprise.
“That… was your home?” I asked Merlin in a similar hushed whisper, to which he slowly nodded. “What… what happened , Merlin? That night? The night the forest burned?”
I knew not of what honesty this sorcerer would bestow upon me this night, yet I told myself I must try to obtain it regardless. I yearned desperately to understand this more. To understand him more.
“It was a night painted in blood,” He replied finally as his eyes met mine once more. “A night drowned out in screams. Much was lost by the hand of your father… but that is the past I am burdened with, Your Highness, and only I. You are to tend to your future now, and what may be rebuilt by your own hand.”
I found my eyes softening at such painful words.
“I do not understand the faith you have in me to succeed,” I told this Druid quietly, and with honestly I had not expected. “There have been days where I have found myself unfitting of being a brother, let alone a King… and yet you insist I continue… and I must ask why, for it would be nothing to kill me. You almost succeeded once, deep within that forest, lest I remind you.”
“Perhaps,” Merlin’s word were but a whisper as he met my gentleness with his own, “but the one to hold the throne must be that of what this realm is now, not of what it once was. The guidance of a man to lead the race of men, bringing harmony and understanding to a realm cast into a darkness your father brutally forged. I did not prefer you for just your position to the throne, Pendragon . I saw with my own eyes the hatred your father bore in his… but you do not have his eyes.”
I felt something- a far too unique feeling wash over me by his words. A sense of reassurance I knew not could stem from this sorcerer.
“You do not wish to be your father, Your Highness, and so I am here to make certain of it that you never become him. If you were willing to seek me out to kill your father, then I am willing to sacrifice a great deal to ensure your position remains on the throne, nurturing your ability to tend to those who will need your guidance most.”
I had wanted for nothing more than to smile at Merlin’s word… and yet I found myself taking a step forward to rest against the table near us, next to the wooden box. “Between yourself and Guinevere… I struggle to understand why I cannot see what you two see when you look at me. It is difficult for me to believe I am fit to lead anyone these coming days… that I can…” my voice drew quieter. “That I am worthy of leading.”
There was a silence that befell us, stretching itself but for a moment as we remained in each other’s presence. And when Merlin finally spoke, I found myself taken aback by his next chosen words.
“There was a moment within that forest… you could not have surpassed your fourteenth year I believe, when your father had taken you hunting. It was one of the rarest moments for the late King knew well of just how far the protection of this flower would stretch,” Merlin glanced down at the box sitting on this table beside I. “You had been so very excited to have spent that time with your father… at first. Do you remember this?” Merlin asked, finally looking upwards to take in my clear surprise at such words.
“Yes,” I more or less whispered to him. I had recalled that memory vividly.
“You were to hunt deer- something you hadn’t done before. Your father had trained you to be an excellent shot with your bow, but this would have been your first hunt,” Merlin continued. “I had witnessed it, Arthur. The time you spent in that forest finding nothing. And when that fawn appeared, surely lost in search of its mother, the look in these light eyes of yours had said far more than you had the courage to. Your father had wanted you to kill it, yet as you soon stilled, unable to, he took it upon himself to shoot six arrows into the small, innocent thing.”
I could not help but wince at the almost tangible memory. It was one of my earliest memories where I was soon forced to realize that whatever time would be spent with my father from then on, would never be fully pleasant. More often than not, it had become horrors.
“I remember it well,” I assured Merlin. “He had… he then gutted the small animal, forcing it to bleed out as all light began slipping away from its eyes.”
“All light began slipping away from yours as well, Arthur,” Merlin spoke softly, which forced my eyes up towards him. “And as you withdrew your knife, and slit the animal’s throat, that moment alone had led me to two solidified conclusions.”
I was forced to look away again. I did not know that Merlin had witnessed all of this. That he had…
“What were those two conclusions?” I asked, whispering with such gentleness.
“The first,” Merlin replied, “was that your father harbored more darkness in him than you had realized then. The ability, and willingness for torture. That young deer had very little meat on its bones and yet he saw it fit to take its life regardless. He had killed for sport, not out of necessity.”
I could feel my own heart tense at the thought of it- that day in the forest. It was the first animal I had every killed. The first life I had ever taken. And Merlin…
He had seen it all.
“The second conclusion I arrived at, Arthur… was that you recognized the life of an innocent. You were only willing to kill if you knew death was mercy in such an instance. I had seen it then… the look you bear now. That moment was the first I had ever seen you look upon your father with such disgust. It was the moment I knew you could never look to him for full guidance again. The veil had been removed from your eyes, and you saw his darkness for what it truly was.”
I knew not of what to say- how to convey how I felt to Merlin now. I had wanted to reach for him, him standing just an arms length away now, but I stopped myself. I had wanted to hear more of his words- his memory, and if I were to touch him now, he may not continue.
“That was when I knew,” this Druid spoke. “That was what had solidified my thoughts, sealing them in wax. I knew from then that your heart would never allow your mind to think the thoughts your father had in that moment. You would never allow yourself to hurt something so innocent unless it was to relieve it of suffering. And that, dear Arthur, was when I decided that it was you who truly deserved the throne. You were the one… the only one of which I would follow. The one I would willingly call my King.”
I had told myself to present some restraint between this man and I… and yet as he finished- as his words cut through mt heart, revealing more of not just I, but what he and I were- how our lives had been so entwined… I searched within me for more of this restraint in which I found myself having not possessed, and the words, “ come closer ,“ fell past my lips before I could put an end to them.
My fingers begged for just a moment where I could simply hold the man who’s words had brought me such comfort. Guinevere had known of many things, but she did not know of that day for I could not bring myself to tell her. It was the shame I felt- of killing something so small, with such little hope of defending itself. It was what I felt when I looked up towards my father with hatred in my eyes for what I had just done. What he had forced upon me.
And above all else… it was the amusement in his eyes. He had found joy with what I had done… and that in return sickened me to my bones.
Merlin had seen it all, however. He had bore witness to the parts of me that I had not disclosed to any living soul. When he had displayed such tenderness within that cottage after the passing of my father, I believe I understood now why he had, for he knew of the conflict between my father and I. He had witnessed the very beginning of that divide.
“I… cannot,” Merlin whispered quietly toward me, forcing my eyebrows to furrow slightly with lack of understanding. “It is this room,” he then continued quickly. “It has left my magick rather unstable, and if you are to… if you…”
My eyes had meant to soften my gaze quickly from what he revealed… but I simply just found them darkening as his words pulled from me an immediate reaction. Such a reaction that it led Merlin to divert the gaze that had once settled on me, and as I felt this room rise with its temperature, I demanded this body of mine to truly show some restraint- to pull it from thin air if need be, otherwise I and this room would be at the mercy of whatever magick resided within Merlin.
“We should take our leave then,” I found myself offering. If we were to remain, I knew not what would become of this treasury seemingly painted in blood. And if we were to remain, I could not contain myself any longer while in his presence. I could not deny my response to him- not after the words he said to me.
Merlin slowly nodded, those eyes never leaving me as he carefully collected that box then snuffed out the torches by his magick upon our departure. I could see each torch diminish within this tight stairwell within our ascend up these stone steps, but once we had started to approach our final steps, Merlin did something rather unexpected.
I felt myself being pulled back by my cloak quickly, urgently, forcing my larger stature against Merlin’s as we both were wedged between this small passageway, the front of my body suddenly flush against his. “M-Merlin?” I whispered as my eyes found the burning irises that were his. “What is… what is the matter?” I could see now that his eyes were glowing brighter and brighter with each passing moment.
“There are guards pacing this hall. Let us… let us wait.”
I gave this sorcerer a slow, steady nod, however I was far more focused on the hand still on my chest, bunching the thick fabric of my cloak. Merlin had pulled me so close, both my hands had reached forward to place them upon the stone wall behind him with fear that I would crush him. I could feel it now- the warmth he omitted. I had kept my gaze on his hand for far too long, for Merlin went to remove it quickly, but I removed a hand from the wall to reach for his quickly fleeting one. As soon as my fingers wrapped around his wrist, Merlin’s entire body stilled. My eyes finally found his again, and the look upon his face was riddled with great uncertainty.
“A-Arthur, I-… I did not… I had not meant to-” Merlin whispered quietly to me.
“I have… I have yearned for your touch since dawn. Please…” I whispered in return. “Please do not deprive me of it now.”
There was no part of me that would not beg. There was no part of me that did not crave something- anything this man would offer… and when I slowly brought his hand further upwards towards the side of my left cheek, I watched as Merlin drew from his lips a deep breath, gently extending his fingers to touch more of my skin.
“A-Arthur, I-” Merlin attempted again… but he did not push me away. I could feel it so vividly- his touch… the way he had started to graze his fingers along more of my exposed skin, gently pulling me closer without him even knowing.
“Merlin,” I whispered quietly in return, gazing into those beautiful golden eyes. “Do I have your permission? To… to… touch you?”
And the way Merlin’s eyes slowly lowered almost caused me to lose myself completely.
“Arthur, we… we…” Merlin whispered delicately. “This is not-… we should not… we cannot -”
“Just this once,” I requested. “Just this once… If… if you… wish to, we will stop. We-”
Before my words could finish, they were swiftly silenced by something far mor tantalizing. Merlin had so suddenly, rather unexpectedly brought his lips up to mine. There was no prior reasoning, no prior telling. And when he removed his lips from mine just as quickly, I felt the loss of his touch with such ferociousness that I knew not of what to do.
“A-Arthur,” I heard this handsome man murmur once he opened those beautiful eyes of his to cast such an intense gaze upon me.
He looked utterly frightened… an emotion I had not seen which such intensity prior. And as soon as I witnessed him start to pull himself further away, I found my right hand quickly removing itself from the wall behind him to reach for and cup the left side of that gentle, charming face of his, holding him in place.
“Arthur…” he whispered again. He had taken from me a kiss, but it was not as I wished. This passion I felt for this man could not be encompassed with such a fleeting kiss as that one. And as Merlin gently leant into my touch, into the beds of my fingertips, slowly closing those mesmerizing eyes of his, I took longer to bring my lips to his gentle ones.
Merlin had finally seen me as I once had him…
Yet now it was time for him to feel me- to understand what this touch had meant for me.
I was finally granted an opportunity for him to understand this was far more than just an attraction… a wandering eye…
And I made certain not to spoil it.
••
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Testing The Fates
Edited version will be up on Substack! I’m trying to get to updating everything there tomorrow
Enjoy!
xoxo
Emrys
I knew not of what I had just done.
The weight of what this decision this night would soon bear for both I, and this land.
As I had ascended the winding stairwell, snuffing out each torch with my magick as we walked, following the steps of Arthur closely, we soon approached the final steps leading to the door we had once entered this hidden passage through. I could feel this small wooden box inside the inner lining pocket of my cloak where I had placed it, deciding upon what would follow its retrieval, my magick pulled from within me suddenly, alerting me to what was just beyond the large wooden door to the once King’s chamber.
Quickly, my left hand reached forward past Arthur’s left hand side, my hand wrapping around the taller man before my long fingers scrunched the soft, thick material of his cloak resting upon his chest, and pulled him backwards towards me.
His feet had managed the few steps backward, and yet I had not taken into account the narrowness of this stairwell until the King’s large frame turned towards me, falling almost flush against my own. I could see both his hands had shot forward swiftly to steady his larger build, placing both hands palm facing against the stone wall behind me.
My eyes had burned so brightly, they illuminated additional pockets of darkness this stairwell was otherwise submerged in, with one sconce remaining that burned against the wall I had now found my back against, an arms length on my right.
“M-Merlin?” Arthur whispered suddenly as those light eyes found the burning irises that were now mine, irises that burned as I listened closely, waiting for the voices in the corridor a carry away from the chamber’s entrance. “What is… what is the matter?”
I continued to listen. There were voices, and yet they were faint, I knew them to be guards by the sound of metal armor clanking against itself. My eyes remained on Arthur yet my magick traveled through me, pooling at my ears to listen better.
“There are guards pacing this hall,” I responded to the King. “Let us… let us wait.”
And as my ears continued to listen… I watched as Arthur’s gaze traveled lower to his chest. To the hand still placed on his chest, holding the cloak’s material tightly within its grasp. And as soon as I noticed it for myself, I moved to remove it from him quickly… however, before it could fall to my side, Arthur abandoned that stone wall with his his right hand once rested against on my left hand side, to reach for said retreating hand of mine.
Once I felt his fingers wrap themselves around the wrist of it, my entire being stilled. I had not expected this, and yet, perhaps, I should have. Regardless, I knew not of what this man was to do next.
“A-Arthur, I-… I did not… I had not meant to-” I whispered quietly to him.
“I have… I have yearned for your touch since dawn. Please…” he whispered in return. “Please… do not deprive me of it now.”
The unexpectedness of his touch was what troubled me. The look in those light eyes. When he raised that hand further, bringing it slowly- carefully to his left cheek, holding my gaze with his own, I took the sharpest inhale, feeling him igniting something in me.
It was far more terrifying than I could’ve ever imagined… and yet my fingers slowly, gently extended themselves to feel more of him. This was simply a startling, but all too enticing feeling to pull away from.
“A-Arthur, I-” I attempted to call upon him yet again… however I still did not pully away. I… I could not pull myself away. His skin was cooling against the warmth of my hand, which brought upon it a serenely soothing feeling. I did not push him away regardless of how I knew that to be what was right. What was best. I found myself gently exploring more of his skin, the tips of my fingers dragging themself lower to his jaw as those beautiful light eyes were illuminated by my burning ones.
“Merlin,” he whispered quietly in return to my touch as his blue irises held my gaze with such rich intensity. His following question was what shifted the tumultuous, forbidden tides between us. “Do I have your permission? To… to… touch you?”
It was a question that should have never been asked- not between us…
“Arthur, we… we…” I whispered carefully- delicately . “This is not-… we should not… we cannot -”
“Just this once,” he requested in that same hushed tone, forcing my hand without him even knowing. He was seducing me with the soft, vulnerability of his words… and I was beginning to give in to such an organic spell. “Just this once… If… if you… wish to, we will stop. We-”
My body moved me, casting out any voice of reason I still had within me as I found myself leaning forward on the balls of my feet, and finally gave in to what my deepest desires held. For the first time, I had allowed this vessel to move of its own accord as I brought my lips unexpectedly to his, kissing him before he managed to finish his words. There was no prior thought, nor prior intention. For once, I was simply giving in as my lips gently separated from his just as abruptly, not allowing us to take this any further. It was weakness I would show this vessel for only a moment, fulfilling what had fully overtaken me for many years.
“A-Arthur,” I then murmured once my eyes finally opened again to find his. My unnatural heart beat in a successional rhythm it had never had before… and I knew not what to make of it.
This unexpected rhythm brought upon me more fear… an emotion I had not felt with such potency in many, many years. I could not help but start to pull further away, deciding it was distance between us that I truly needed in order for my mind to regain its control, but Arthur’s movements were faster as his right hand quickly removed itself from the wall behind me to reach for and cup the left side of my face, forcing this vessel to first still, then remain fully in place.
“Arthur…” I attempted yet again, but my being deceived this worry I felt, gently leaning into his touch. His touch forced my eyes closed, unable to deny him, nor the beating of my heart any longer as he slowly leant in closer to me. I could feel his deeper breaths fan my skin, forcing a shudder from the sheer weakness of this vessel.
And when I felt his soft lips finally meet mine once more, I released a startling moan- something so completely unexpected. He had felt so perfect against my skin, terror could not help but spread through my body. I had fallen for his touch harder then I could’ve possibly imagined, forcing my hands up to his neck as Arthur pushed me back further against this stone wall behind us. He himself released a deep groan against this kiss, his lips gently demanding more as his tongue slid past them.
This was dangerous, the way he was kissing me. The way I was pulling him even closer against my build, allowing him to deepen this sin. I had started to feel faint at such an unexpected feeling, and yet his body against mine was pressing me to this wall behind I, holding me up. Both his hands now held just under my jaw, tilting my head back further to grant him more of something so forbidden.
This kiss was far too dangerous, I reminded myself… yet my hands travelled upwards from the back of his neck into the softness of his hair, pulling him even closer against me as soft moans pushed past my lips against his without my consent. And that seemed to only further convince Arthur of this- of my forbidden want for more- for I felt a hand of his leave my angled face to travel down my cloaked chest, down my covered stomach and wrapping around my slender waist.
He was pulling the lower part of me closer to him by the lowered part of my back. I could feel a leg of his pushing past the slit in his cloak, pressing into the space between mine, yet the heat he was sending through my body turned deadly as he brushed against a part of myself I had always insisted to neglect in the past, being met with the now hardening part of me there through the thin fabric of my trousers.
I could feel that heat growing more, my magick starting to burn through me with the unexpected pleasure this brought, and both his and my own moans only grew in intensity as his tender lips moved with clear intent against mine.
We could not … I told myself, insisting on this danger. We could not take this further.
He was causing my magick to react more uncontrollably as he slowly pressed that leg harder against that once untouched part, and this forced from my my body slight shakes- more clearer moans. It ordered my hands to remove themselves from his hair, and quickly reach for his chest, breaking this unraveling kiss as I pushed him back suddenly. “That is… that is enough .”
Both he and I had lost our breaths to now jagged, light pants, taking in the heated air around us. It took me a moment to collect myself, placing both scorching hands on my chest, above a cloak that would never burn by my magick nor his , before my eyes finally opened to Arthur, and the way he looked upon me was truly, possibly inexplicable. He was cursed with the most beautiful eyes… the most alluring… so much so, I broke our gaze, shifting my eyes away.
“ Merlin ,“ he murmured quietly to me with a much coarser voice, and I focused on my breathing, attempting to lower this heat that was quickly building around us, overtaking the small space.
“We cannot take this further,” I told him quietly as I lowered my hands to my sides.
“Was it… was it not suitable?” he whispered, asking me, but I slowly shook my head, silencing those doubts.
“My magick, it… it is too unstable. I… I cannot harm you again, my King .” I knew not of what would happen had we gone further. I knew not of how to control my vivid reaction to this man of royal blood when faced with something to unnatural pooling within me. I could feel something that should never be… the way his magick, the one who turned me into this abomination, was intertwining.
“I believe that is for me to decide,” Arthur insisted, but I shook my head once more.
It was not for him to decide. Not in this regard.
“The guards have left,” I spoke to him instead. “Let us… let us take our leave. You must return to your chamber before Guinevere awakens.”
And I could feel Arthur’s conflicting thoughts as he stood within an arm’s length of me, but I knew he, too, felt the rising temperature of this passage. And he had felt my flame once before when I had burned him. He knew very little of what resided within me, but he had experienced enough to have known this magick of mine to be touched by something else. Something old.
Something wrong .
Above all else… above any want of mine- desires that should have never been… keeping the King safe was my second priority.
Keeping him alive was my first.
Arthur was the one to lead us back towards the hall of both our chambers, maintaining his silence as had I whilst we maneuvered around the pacing of the guards. And as we neared our respective rooms, with I taking those additional steps towards my own, I turned my head slightly, meeting his longful gaze.
“Goodnight, your Highness,” I spoke to him. I kept this voice of mine lower, not wanting to wake another soul who resided in this hall.
“Goodnight… Merlin,” he returned with but a whisper, before we both turned towards and entered through each wooden door slowly.
As I settled into the complete darkness of this room with my companions, these onyx bodied creatures slithering freely across the stone floor of my chamber, I could feel their contempt. They could sense the King’s scent on me, yet as I removed and set the small wooden box on the table near the mattress, what I had returned with had lightened their disappointment in my actions.
And having been the closest I had ever come to being with Arthur, I noticed more about that strange scent he carried. I may have… lost my way to that kiss, but it did bear me some use to do so.
It was something I would soon Investigate, for there seemed to now be those close to him- to this castle- intervening with my plans for the King, and that was simply something I would not allow.
Dawn brought with it a great degree of uncertainty. I did not take my breakfast with the King, instead I had remained in my chamber for some time as light slowly entered through the window with the rising sun, studying the wooden box closely. I did not understand how it had reached Camelot. I did not understand why the original creator of such wonders had parted with it.
And yet, it had reminded me of a telling. Whispers. Of what wonders its creator truly held- what wonders they were themselves.
I had taken this early rising to feed my companions, allowing them to latch their sharp fangs onto my skin… however, my blood had changed since the prior night, and they could sense it. Taste it . The magick coursing through me had grown stronger, his magick, causing them to drink less from this vessel. I had only just finished my respective duties to those of a loyal claim- those who had joined me in such darkness all these years- before I heard a knocking on my door. This quickly caused my serpents to scatter, tucking themselves inside the space under this raised bed, and into the cracks in the wall as I pulled my cloak over my healing, bare chest, and made my way towards the door.
I was surprised to be welcomed by none other than the Queen. Guinevere .
She was in full royal attire, dressed in a beautiful yellow gown, the crest of the Pendragon embroidered in the deep, richly purple cape she wore as she offered me a smile. “Good morning, Merlin,” she spoke as I bowed my head in respect, pulling the hood of this cloak from my head, back onto my shoulders. “I have come to deliver a message of sorts.”
“Yes, my Queen?” I asked in return.
“The King has requested you in his study. I believe he has started his work early this day, and requires your expertise of the sorts,” she replied, stepping aside expectantly for me to join her.
After my night with Arthur, I had wished to place some distance between he and I… but there was still work set for us to do. I could not distance myself from him for eternity. And so I took that step outside my chamber, and made sure to shut the door fully behind me, my slight of hand managing to seal it with my magick, before I allowed this beautiful woman to escort me. I had entered this castle with such little trust… but now I knew it to be far more dangerous than I once believed.
“There is still much I must prepare for, for the Hunt, though I would wish to join you two one of these coming days. You have been working well within your position, according to my husband.”
“There is still much for us to do, my Queen,” I answered her politely as we walked.
I quite enjoyed this young woman’s company. I appreciated her committed nature to her newly found position, and her ability to take full charge of diplomatic ruling otherwise fit for only the King. She was the stability he and this land earnestly needed, whether Arthur found any romantic feelings towards her or not… and yet I found myself also believing her deserving of genuine happiness. She very well deserved someone capable of loving her the ways in which she longed for, which would prove to be a challenge given Arthur’s… reservations .
“Will you take breakfast with me come daybreak tomorrow? I would wish for us to grow closer,” she admitted, to which I nodded.
“It would be my pleasure, Your Highness,” I told her honestly, which pulled from this young, beautiful woman a large smile. “Is Morgana still at rest?”
Guinevere nodded slowly. “I believe she did not find the most peaceful sleep during the night. I assure you, however, I will keep her busy this day once she awakens, so your work remains uninterrupted.”
“There is no need,” I spoke in a swift voice. “I much enjoy her interruptions.”
That caused Guinevere to release a soft laugh. “For a man of your stature… the stories I have heard… it will always take me by surprise with how you two get along so well. You have successfully brought her lightness back, and I am still forever grateful for such an act.”
“As I mentioned, my Queen… I know a great deal about loss. And her warmth lightens my own burdens,” I found myself speaking freely with this young, bold woman. She nodded to me, smiling. We had soon approached the door to the study, and this was where the Queen and I finally parted ways, with her retreating the way we came after saying her brief, yet kind goodbyes, and me giving yet another respectful bow. I then took a full breath in before reaching my hand up to knock against the large, heavy door.
“Come in,” I heard Arthurs deep voice speak, allowing me to reach for the handle and push it open.
I could see the King sitting at his desk, writing. Once he glanced up from his text, his lips pulled into a smile that made me divert my gaze as I entered.
“Shut the door behind you,” he instructed me, and I did so. Then I slowly turned and approached him, before taking a seat across from him at this wooden desk, in this familiar wooden chair. My magick was starting to stir at just the thought of the night that had befell us before. At the thought- the feeling of his lips against my own, pulling from within me those unsettled desires.
And I knew, in this first moment we shared since, he and I had needed more distance. More time granted to me for I to understand how I could remove such a desire from me.
Yet we did not have the luxury of such time. The work which laid before us was not one the King could conquer alone.
Something was brewing within the land. Something willing to test the fates of none other than I.
The Serpent King.
And it was his magick that was warning me of such an impending threat, preparing this vessel to withstand more… just as he once had all those years ago.
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![Cover of The Sword Of Excalibur [MxM] ⚣](/story-covers/the-sword-of-excalibur-mxm_387197134.webp)
