"I'll come back," Morgana had said to her sister. She had meant it, but she also felt terrible leaving Morgause. Although the former High Priestess had no magic yet, she still had a treacherous mind which could manipulate and deceive even the most steadfast. Merlin had agreed, but Morgana knew he had his doubts as well.
The car drive to the Lake of Avalon was much faster than a journey on horse would be, but the time already elapsed seemed longer than the trip to Glastonbury should have taken.
"Where are we going?" Morgana asked with a bit of alarm. Merlin grinned mysteriously, but didn't answer. Morgana felt anger stir her magic, but she suppressed it. Merlin seemed to sense her discomfort.
"You'll like it, I promise," he said.
"Why do I not trust you?" she growled, but most of her anger had faded.
"Because I poisoned you and defeated you many times and then I killed you," said Merlin frankly. Morgana raised her eyebrows and looked sideways at him. A noise came out of her mouth that Merlin couldn't interpret.
"What?" he asked, worried that he had gone too far. The noise happened again. "What!" he repeated, taking his eyes off the road for a moment. She forced his head back and made the noise again, this time louder. If he wasn't mistaken,
"It was a laugh, you deceitful, spinebacked simpleton!" Merlin looked at Morgana in surprise. She noticed. "What, you think because I'm evil, I can't have a sense of humor?"
"You're not evil," he said quietly. He caught a glimpse of a relieved smile on her face. "I'm not saying you're an angel," he ratified quickly. "But you had your reasons."
"Yes, I did," affirmed Morgana. "I am sorry, though. Not for all of it. That may make me sound like the evil witch the stories Morgan read in school about me portrayed me as, but it's true. Some deserved what I gave them."
"Surely not all," Merlin said, not for the first time questioning his decision to not kill Morgana on the spot.
"No. Not the innocents who were caught in the crossfire. Nor Gwaine," said Morgana. "Or Arthur."
"Arthur?" asked Merlin, genuinely surprised. "He stood against everything you fought for. Don't you remember, 'I will stay by your side until the wolves gouge on your carcass and bathe in your blood'?"
"Of course I remember," Morgana snapped. "But you didn't know us as children. We were good friends, if you can believe that."
"I remember you two fancying each other," Merlin admitted honestly. Morgana kept staring straight ahead, but punched Merlin in the arm. He was lucky it wasn't worse, and knew it. Her face flushed red.
"Where are we going, anyway?" she demanded. Merlin grinned to himself, but didn't respond.
For almost four hours they drove in relative silence. When the car finally stopped, they were in a large cluster of rocks and caves. Morgana recognized it, but couldn't exactly place it.
"Outskirts of the White Mountains," Merlin told her.
"Took long enough, I hope it's worth it," muttered Morgana under her breath. This rather upset Merlin.
"Do you know how long this journey would have taken if we were riding?" he snapped. Morgana looked at him in surprise. "I'm sorry," he said more quietly.
"That's alright," said Morgana, but warily. She followed him through an unused path for several miles. If his feet ached as much as hers did, he didn't show it. She had been caught off guard by his temper earlier, so she didn't want to anger him further by complaining.
"Here," he said, after another hour of silent walking. He pulled aside a bush and revealed a large entrance to what appeared to be a cave. Morgana was sure she'd have missed it if Merlin hadn't pointed it out.
"Wait a moment," Merlin told Morgana, sounding serious. She halted immediately just inside the mouth of the cave. Merlin descended deeper into the tunnel. Morgana could hear him saying something, but she couldn't make out the words. That is, until she heard a loud, "Morgana!" At this, she rushed inside the cave. She was a bit nervous, but she trusted Merlin enough to not lead her into a trap. He tried to kill her twice - and succeeded once - but those were different circumstances.
Morgana couldn't see a thing, so she lit a small flame in her hand. It guided her through the long tunnel into a wide open cavern. Beside the opening she had just emerged from stood Merlin. About 30 feet away, in the center of the cave, stood Aithusa.
0O0O0O0
"This is nice," said Arthur honestly. "I mean it, when did they perfect the art of bedmaking? This is amazing!" He had collapsed on the bed as the others gathered outside his newly claimed room. Gwen laughed at her husband's wonder.
"Many things have changed in the thousand years you've been dead, Arthur. Running water, for instance. Also, heating and cooling."
"Actually, the Romans had heated houses long before those like the modern day. It was not too long before our time that that knowledge was lost. It is the reason the time we lived in is sometimes, controversially, called 'The Dark Ages', because much technology and sophistication of the Greek and Roman empires were lost," lectured Gaius. His companions looked at him.
Lancelot cleared his throat. "Well," he said diplomatically, "I'm sure we all appreciated that invaluable piece of history."
"I did, actually," said Gwaine pensively. "Did the Romans have better ale, as well?" Gaius didn't answer. He only stared at Gwaine, as all the others did.
"I studied what I could of the Romans," Percival told the others. "It's part of what influenced my armor choices." The knights frowned at him.
"Um, Percival," said Arthur, springing from his new mattress and clapping his hand on the big knight's shoulder, "You know that we all had the same armor, don't you?"
"Of course not!" exclaimed Percival with a little indignation. "I cut the sleeves off my chain mail. The Romans rarely wore sleeves, from what I saw in old pictures."
"They were in a very different climate," Gwen said, barely hiding a grin.
"I thought you didn't wear sleeves because they wouldn't fit your biceps?" Gwaine pondered, squeezing the bicep in question. Guinevere laughed, but was silenced when Percival glared at Gwaine.
"Alright, that's it. Everyone out!" commanded Arthur. "I want some time alone with my wife."
"Of course, my lord," Percival said, grateful to be done with the teasing. Somehow, it didn't feel quite as fun being on the receiving end. Gaius bowed out as well, followed by Gwaine. Lancelot went last, and the King and Queen were alone.
Arthur sat against the headboard and Gwen cradled herself in his arm.
"We haven't been truly alone for a thousand years," she said wistfully. "Since the night before Camlann."
"I've missed you, my love," Arthur told her. He kissed her head and held her tighter.
"You too. More than words can express." Guinevere had cried once after her coronation, and once when she regained her memories. Now she cried again, but not out of sadness. She cried for joy, and for loss, and for time. Arthur cried too. They held on to each other and comforted each other for all the time they were separated.
"We had a son," said Arthur finally. Gwen dried her tears and laughed a short, wet laugh.
"Arthur Pendragon the Second," she said. "Merlin says that he was overthrown by one of the recorded kings of English history. Fell out of history and never quite made legend."
"What was he like?" asked Arthur out of genuine curiosity. He had never known his son, which was one of the most demoralizing things to know. He never had the chance to teach him anything, or give him anything, or take him anywhere.
"Good," said Gwen with the happy memories of an old woman. "The sweetest boy for miles around. Never much for fighting, though," she said. "I think that's why he was conquered."
"I don't care. As long as you tell me I can be proud of him."
"So proud, Arthur. Your knights helped him, too. Leon was his advisor, and lived in peace even after Camelot fell. Arthur died in battle, though. Merlin was there. He died bravely, he said. Fighting. Just like his father," said Gwen with a look at the parent in question.
"I'd have been just as happy if he lived to a ripe old age and died in his sleep," Arthur joked. Gwen nestled into him tighter.
"I did that," she said.
"I love you, Guinevere," Arthur said, kissing the top of her head. "Whatever happens with this new world. That will never change." She looked up at him in surprise.
"Do you think something will happen?" Gwen asked. Arthur sighed.
"Mordred has every reason to hate me. In some ways, I expect him to try to kill me."
"Can he, though? We don't know if he'll have his magic back immediately. Anyway, we have Merlin and Morgana on our side." Even as she said it, Gwen felt that she wasn't telling the truth. Arthur seemed to share this view.
"She was the enemy for so long," Arthur said softly. "And yet she has changed so much from that time."
"She washes her hair," Gwen felt the need to say. "And she brushes it. I've seen her." Arthur laughed.
"A true sign of innocence," he joked.
"I do think . . ." started Gwen, but stopped. Arthur nudged her to go on, so she did. "I think that we need to be careful around her. Not enough that she notices, but she still could kill us all in her sleep."
"No," said Arthur, much to Gwen's surprise. "She will notice anything we do out of the ordinary."
"I'm sure she will understand that she doesn't have as much of our trust as, say, Gaius," Gwen defended.
"No," repeated Arthur. "She is human. She's just a girl!"
"Are you implying - " started Gwen, sitting up and glaring at her husband.
"No! I mean she's so young."
"She's older than you, Arthur," Gwen told him.
"Not in this world," said Arthur triumphantly. "I was 29 when I died, and she was 30. But here you're only 26, which means she's 27. Anyway, what I meant to say. She's human. She will be hurt if she sees any of us acting differently, even if she understands why. Especially you and I," he said. "I cannot convince the knights, but let me convince you. Please. Do this for me."
"If it is your will to accept your greatest enemy and your murderer with open arms, then I will," said Gwen with a bit of venom in her voice.
"My love, don't speak like that. I thought you shared a good opinion of Morgana?"
"I believe that she is a good person," Gwen conceded. "But wouldn't it be a good idea to be wary of her?"
"No," said Arthur firmly. "If she even suspects that you don't believe in her, she will hate you more for it. There has been enough hate in this family."