Chapter Text
The first thing to do when raising a problem child is don't make them someone else's problem. Morgan barely remember her first family, in mind or heart. Everything in her childhood before arriving to the mystical island of Avalon is a bit of a blur. She's more than happy about that. The lady of the lake is not too strict, her sisters are as mischievous as her, and the bards aren't half bad to listen to. As her the lady of the lake told her, it's best not to dwell on the past when she has all to gain in the present. Unfortunately, the present was boring.
Merlin was in Avalon today. That's nothing new, he likes to break in once a month, he probably gets a kick out of trying to weasel through the wards specifically created to keep him out. It's a win-win for everyone, a nice exercise for Merlin and good practice for the sorceress like Morgan, the only one that doesn't enjoy are the people in the receiving end of his flirting.
Because he is Merlin they must wait around until the pleasantries are concluded. Morgan's interest wanes, in the back of her mind she notices the blond, green-eyed boy accompanying Merlin but that's about it.
Morgan checks out as soon as Merlin starts talking. In the amount of time she was under Merlin's tutelage she became an expert in tuning him out unless he's saying something useful. He's a fountain of knowledge that is easily distracted by women. Viviane must be in a good mood because she doesn't seem to mind his flirting and is in fact nodding at whatever he's spewing, yes, Morgan doesn't want to be here mentally listening to her old mentors go at it.
What should she try next? Fire barely fazes him. She should try calling forth a dolphin to knock him off the boat next time.
She's startled from her musings when her younger sister Nimue pokes her side. The younger girl is fidgeting and glancing at her.
"Hold it until our lady dismisses us. Your bladder can take it," she advises her and is about to check out again when Nimue whispers.
"No. Morgan. Uhm, that boy behind Merlin...are you two related? You look a bit alike?" she says innocently but that doesn't stop the stab at Morgan's ego at being compared to a boy that doesn't even know how to brush their hair.
"I don't see it," Morgan studies the blond lanky boy in peasant clothes. The blurry memory of a tall dark-haired man appears in her mind but all his bastard children died and she's met all of her aunt's children. "Nobody related to me would look and dress like that."
"But...your eyes are similar. They're both sharp and focused," Nimue tries explaining.
"To compare my beauty to Merlin's new pet," Morgan grumbles, peeved. "See what happens when you need someone to bail you from your harp lessons," she says and the girl pouts.
"But you do-"
"Shut up you two," Niniane says from the left but she's just as impatient as Morgan to leave. They both know how long meetings between important people can drag on.
Noticing the banter and the energy coming from the sidelines the high priestess of Avalon raises from her wooden throne and claps her hands. "Let's continue in private in an hour. My girls have their chores and lessons to finish and I'm sure you and-" her eyes slide from Merlin to the boy; Morgan is mildly impressed when he holds Viviane's gaze. She's not always soft or safe to look at. "I'm sure you would like to rest. The lad can stay in the visitor quarters."
Merlin laughs and shakes his head. "No, no. I can't imagine the last time you cleaned those rooms." It has been a while. Normal people can't simply wander into Avalon. "He can stay with me."
"The druids wouldn't mind housing him," Viviane responds with a sly smile and Morgan gets the feeling they're having a different conversation.
"He's a bit people shy," he says, and the boy continues looking all too serious.
"What a caring teacher you're turning out to be. Everyone dismissed."
Finally.
The girls leave bickering. Morgan shares her ideas on stopping Merlin next time and Niniane gives her a look, "you're powerful. Why don't you summon a sea dragon to take care of him?" she really doesn't like Merlin.
"Because I won't get a laugh from seeing him get chomped and I've never seen a magus get whacked by a dolphin," plus she thinks Niniane is giving her more credit than she deserves, wrestling a sea serpent to follow her commands sounds exhausting and time consuming.
Morgan goes to the record hall to help the scribes. They've imported new books and Morgan is one of the few people that doesn't mind sitting down for hours. The book she has to read and copy today is a thick book in Arabic called, The Entangled Family Lines Of The Pharaohs. She skips to the last page and sees Cleopatra's Macedonian family tree.
"What's this?" she asks a bard.
"The Entangl-"
"I can read the title. Why am I reviewing it? What knowledge am I supposed to gleam about Isis in this?"
"Don't know. How about you read it and find out," the bard huffs and gets back to writing.
Morgan glares at him until he's squirming in his seat, then she starts reading from the beginning. There are a few spirits roaming today and at one point the witch of Endor looks over her shoulder to see what she's reading. She suggests reading a book on necromancy but Morgan can't help think Vivane would be against spooking the nearby christian priests.
It's late in the evening when she's finished reading. She'll translate the work tomorrow and then start on the next book.
Stomach grumbling Morgan looks up at the trees and its apples. The red ones were safe for human consumption, but the golden ones planted by the fairy folk aren't. Only the high priestess and the fairy queens are permitted to eat of those apples. That isn't to say she isn't tempted.
She'll have to ask Viviane what it tastes like when she becomes immortal and joins the ranks of the fairy folk. Instead of going to bed for the night she walks to the coast and finds a little wooden boat to get on.
Morgan is about to get on when a young feminine voice behind her goes, "my lady...that doesn't seem safe." It's not a voice from anyone she knows and the fact it's spoken in Latin is even more bewildering. Morgan's first instinct is to swing the basket behind her. Embarrassingly, she does let out a small spooked sound, "eep!" and the target goes, "ow."
It's the boy with a blank expression but this time he's cradling the side of his head where she hit him. Morgan can count the number of people that can sneak up on her in one hand and it becomes even less when she's in her territory.
"Oh, you do show emotion," Morgan straightens, glad she wasn't the only one that lost her composure there. She clears her throat and says as regally as possible, "no need to fret over my safety. The dingy is sturdy and older than Merlin."
She uncoils the rope and hears shuffling behind her. The boy hasn't left her presence and Morgan figures he must be lost. Avalon has a mine of its own, it can be tricky to navigate and the younger kids get lost frequently.
"My lady...it's far too late in the day to be going," the blond frowns, "where are you going?"
The moon and stars are out and even the mists of Avalon couldn't hold back its shine. "I'm going to pick up my lover for a romantic boat ride and picnic," Morgan jests. Sometimes when the younger students ask to accompany her on errands, she lies about meeting a lover, they get too embarrassed to ask again. She expects him to blush and flounder but there's no change in his expression. "I'm going shopping," she sighs. This time Merlin's pupil does blink, and she stops herself from smiling at his expression.
"Shopping? Doesn't Avalon produce everything that can be needed?"
"No," she says. "I'm looking for a certain ingredient that grows on the Other side and Avalon lies between both worlds," Morgan says lightly and wonders how much Merlin has taught him. "Don't worry. I've don't this before."
"Allow me to accompany you," he says completely serious.
Morgan glances at the wooden sword latched to his belt. Frankly, she can protect herself much better than any squire of Merlin. She ruffles his soft hair, she's not that much taller than him but she does love teasing people. "That's chivalrous of you but I am no lady in need of an adorable knight. I'm entering the forest of the fairy folk and they're mostly harmless, but they do love their pranks. Merlin would be against me losing his apprentice, squire. Are you a future magus or knight?"
"Knight, and Merlin was the one that suggested I go with you."
That's odd. "Why?"
The boy shrugs, "he said the most important lesson a knight can learn is helping maidens."
Ah. She understands now. The incubus demon was trying to grate at her nerves by having her play babysitter while he flirts with all the bachelorettes in Avalon.
"No need for any lesson. You're cute. As long as you're cute that'll do all that work and you'll have ladies swooning at whatever court you decide to join."
"Swoon?"
She must get going. He's entertaining but Morgan can already feel Vivian wondering why she hasn't left yet. She throws the rope into the dingy and the oars too. It won't take much concentration to have the water carry her to the other side. A hand grips her sleeve.
"Let me," the squire offers his smaller calloused hand and helps Morgan step into the boat.
She's taken by surprise that despite his small size and lean figure the boy manages to get it in the water in one push. It's another surprise when the child swings himself into the dingy and grabs the oars. Even better the boy begins to row like he didn't just invite himself on this trip.
"Your cute looks fooled me into thinking you're an obedient child. I should've known better. Merlin wouldn't take someone under his wing that aren't like us." He might look like a runt but he's stronger than he looks.
"I am not a child. I'm small for my age is all," he says, and Morgan can hear a slight sulk in his voice. She feels pity in her heart, she was a late bloomer too. "And I'm not disobeying. You never told me no."
"I'll be clearer next time," she says without bite. Looks like she won't have to exert herself to reach the other side. She clears the mists and he's able to see where he's rowing.
They're silent for a moment when the child starts talking, "what do you mean people like us?"
"Non-human," and cups her chin. "Not 100% human I mean. The time we tried collaborating and he tried mentoring me we never got anything done. We enable our mischievous sides too much," she chuckles. "We got carried away and our playful acts become someone else's bad day. Honestly, he's a bit of bad influence. I suppose that makes me your senior."
The squire nods. "I see. Maybe he wanted me to learn from you?"
She doubts that. It's more likely he wanted to flirt and didn't want the boy shadowing him. She remembers the times Merlin blew her off to go on his flirting sprees. She probably did pick up some of his bad habits, no wonder Vivian gives her annoyed looks when she leaves the island without permission. Morgan always thought it was because of free spirit and fairy blood but it could be Merlin's influence too. The eldest priestess certainly wanted her at home learning to be a proper lady and sorceress.
"Could be," Morgan says and leans closer. "Or he wanted to flirt with the nymphs of Avalon." Ah, not even a blush from him. How old is he? Even his voice hasn't cracked yet. "You don't have a sense of humor, do you? Were you taken from your crib by mischievous fairies?"
"As far as I'm aware no."
"I doubt you're a simple squire," the boat hits the bank, and the boy gets out to push the boat further in to avoid it drifting into the water. Again, he helps Morgan step out the boat.
The forest was dark and small ember flies flashed and disappeared. She needs to start counting. Time works differently in that world and its vital not to lose track of time.
"You will wait for me here," she taps into the authority of a goddess. "I assure you I can take care of myself."
"I don't doubt that," he wavers, "but surely someone that was taught by Merlin and the lady of the lake will have no trouble in taking care of me?" he says and now her pride and capabilities are on the line.
Morgan glares at him and this time holds her hand out. The boy's thin eyebrows pinch to the center and she smirks. "Well?"
"You want me to...hold your hand? My lady, I am not a child," he says looking slightly peeved.
"A man wouldn't complain about holding the hand of a beautiful woman," Morgan says. "The beings that roam these woods sometimes like to trick strangers and you've never been here before. I don't want you getting lost." She can't help but grin when his cheeks look dusted by red. What is it with young boys and holding a girl's hand? "No? Then get back on the dingy."
He looks around, takes a deep breath, and slowly takes her hand. It's a light hold like he's afraid to fully commit. "This is...indecent."
"Don't worry. I only seduce men when I'm off work," she says, and he turns even pinker. Enough fun for now, time to count. She guides him to the Other side. Immediately she realizes she might have problem in her hand when every step this person takes is crunch, crunch, crack, he manages to step on every leaf, rock, and twig. At least now she knows he's not part druid or forest spirit. How on earth did he sneak on her before?
They're only a few yards in when she stops and removes her black cloak. "Wear this."
"I'm not cold."
"It's too hide your presence. You're kind of cute and I don't feel like fending off fairies tonight," she says and puts the hood over his face.
A feeling pricks behind her neck and she knows creatures of the other world are curious on who Morgan is with. The fairy folk do occasionally dabble in kidnapping. From what Morgan knows they are capable of reproducing and their immortal bodies are fertile, the problem is exactly that. Immortal creatures are very careful when they're having their fun with each other.
Normally, they don't reproduce among themselves unless it's to fill in a slot and sometimes it takes a long time before a slot is available. There's also the fact that like all living creatures, giving birth hurts and they're averse to pain, fairies don't like to be reminded about the cycle of life. All that is born eventually dies.
The last time a fairy died was twenty years ago. Everyone thought Vivian would fill in that role and become immortal, but she chose to remain mortal and serve instead. Shortly after Morgan was born. Sometimes she can't help but think her birth was-
"I get the feeling you don't take me seriously," he cuts in, and she blinks. "Is it because my height?"
"I have all the respect for a future strong and brave knight," she pats his head. "There. Let's proceed. Don't step on anything important or say anything rude," she takes his hand and continues to lead him in the dark.
"My lady, will your white magic be enough to fight off dark fairies?" he asks although his voice is relatively calm.
Children and their questions. "Magic is magic. There's no such thing as white or dark. It's like...a plant. The same herbs that can poison and kill a man can also numb their pain or help them sleep. An axe cuts down a tree to be used to chop wood for the winter. Magic is a helpful tool." She smirks. "Of course, fairies lean more towards trickery than combat and they usually mind their own business. They're in their own social club and not interested in peasants unless it's a direct insult. Don't worry. Do as I say, and you'll be fine. If anything happens, I'll put mud on your face. They'll think you're a gremlin."
"But how powerful of a sorceress are you?" he digs.
She stops and turns to him. "Powerful. You're practically standing in front of the avatar of the mother goddess," she says and flicks his forehead. "No more talking," she almost laughs at his displeased expression. He is no one to her and will receive no more information from her. Did Merlin find her threatening?
They continue walking for almost half an hour when Morgan gets tired of holding his hand and loops their arms instead. He jumps away from her and clumsily trips on a root.
Are all boys this jumpy? Morgan touches her face but it's still her face and not the face of the goddess that she has on.
"I don't bite. My hand was getting tired."
"Oh," the young man blushes, stands, and offers his elbow.
"Aren't you the most dashing knight on this side of the forest?" Morgan can't help but tease.
They hear a ruffling from the bushes and suddenly the soon to be knight is in front of her and has his wooden sword ready. Morgan frowns. Odd, fairies don't usually do that. There's no mist or illusions that Morgan can see. The ruffling becomes louder and a bear cub steps out.
His sword lowers and Morgan hears him sigh. Then a giant bear emerges from the trees behind its baby. That's not good.
Morgan carefully grips his tense shoulders. "Relax." He doesn't. Rolling her eyes, she puts her hand on his hip and forces him to move aside.
The bears tilt her head at them, Morgan waves her hand. They're not dangerous. The bear makes a sound and nudges its baby to keep moving. Not liking the way his eyes were trained at the retreating bears Morgan tries to calm him down by force. She's not expecting for a barrier to be there. A protection spell against magic? Did Merlin put that there. It didn't have his flowery touch.
"My lady...your-uh, your hand is," he squeaks, and Morgan lets go of him.
"You have a small waist," she notes and releases him, she's perplexed about the barrier, but she'll pester Merlin about it later. What kind of creature has wards against magic?
"I'm bulking. Where did that bear come from?"
"It was probably lulled here by your siren voice," Morgan gets on her knees and the boy jumps away. "Here it is!" she smiles at the glowing fungus.
"Those are...mushrooms."
Morgan sighs, "The lady of the lake and the best sorcerer in the world love their soups to have this specific mushroom. I think it helps their old bones."
"Aren't they immortal," the lad says and Morgan scoffs.
"I'm a young woman and even my body protests when I move into a position it's not ready for," she starts picking them from the ground. "Enjoy your youth while you have it."
"You don't look that much older than me. And isn't the reason your body protests is because you stay home all day and read books and knit," he says, and Morgan slowly turns to look at him. It seems he realizes he spoke carelessly and so he gets on his knees and helps her with the mushrooms.
The walk back to the boat is done in silence. By Morgan's account they were in there for almost an hour. She takes him on another longer path in case the bears are eating berries and sitting on the path they came from. Every chance she gets she tries touching him to see if she can push her magic through and evoke something. It doesn't seem to hurt but every time she tries, he blushes at the touch and she stops. What is he? An anti-druid? She remembers he speaks Latin.
"Oh, it makes sense now. You must be with the church. That's why I can't use my magic on you," she concludes. Foreign magic is tricky sometimes.
He clears his throat. "You're not Christian?" they stare at each other. "That was a dumb question."
"Well, I was in a nunnery when I was a little girl."
"You were? How was it?"
She feels an incoming headache. "I don't remember. It was a long time ago. I was much younger than you are now." Young and depressed. She was stuck in a place with people she didn't know, was forced to learn a foreign language, and serve an unfamiliar deity. As soon as she was freed from that place, she blocked it from her memory. His hand squeezes hers and she shakes herself from that fog. "I was banished. I was far too smart and pretty to live there. Frankly, I think the priests saw me as the reincarnation of Jezebel. I accidentally set things on fire with my magic. I bet they celebrated the day my sisters took me."
They make it to the dingy.
She puts the baskets in and forces him up the boat.
"But-"
"Shush," she climbs on and the boat sinks into the water. She touches the surface with her hand and mutters the words that will let them into Avalon. Like magic the small boat begins to move.
"Oh."
"Congratulations. You survived a whole night in the dark woods. You have potential," she sits next to him. "How about becoming my knight once you're older? Nobody would dare hurt me if I have a cute lion cub at my heels," she tries flattening the blond lock sticking out on top of his head but it's persistent on staying like that.
He blushes at the proximity or maybe at being called cute. "Please stop teasing. I can't be your knight if you're the lady of the lake."
She gazes at him in puzzlement. She's far more powerful and connected to Avalon than Niniane but she hasn't gained the wisdom to be lady of the lake yet. "If that career doesn't pan out, I'm sure my family will gladly sponsor you. There are no male sons in my family and I'm my father's only heir." Wouldn't that be fun? By the time Morgan is a fully grown sorceress, Merlin will be showing his age and this boy will be a man. A half-incubus, a part-fairy, and whatever this boy is living in one spot surrounded by normal people. No doubt, they'll be the nightmare of their neighbors and local church.
"Your knight?" he mutters. "If my destiny allows me to, then I would be glad to serve as your knight."
Destiny? He's a bit young to be thinking about that. Does he have dreams of grandeur? "I don't know the name of my potential future knight. What is your name or Christian name?"
"I'm called Artorius."
He is roman. Maybe mixed judging by his blond hair and green eyes. "I am Morgan."
"Nice to meet you, Lady Morgan," he says with a tiny smile and the boat hits the sand.
He climbs out first with the basket and then helps her down. "I enjoyed our little play date, Art. Let's do this again when you're as tall as me," she teases him one last time.
"Date!" he stammers.
She holds her hands up sensing the presence of her mistress. She appears in front of them in the blink of an eye. "You were taking longer than usual. I was about to look into the dish to look for you."
"I had unexpected company," she gestures to Artorius. "He helped me acquire these," she shows her the basket full of glowing mushrooms.
"You're getting along. That's promising," she smiles at them and Morgan recognizes that look. She has that soft look on her face when she's plotting.
Not caring to look rude Morgan asks in Welsh, "why is that, lady Vivian?"
"Having friends in high places is useful."
"What? This boy is shorter than I am."
Vivian frowns and says, "were you not listening earlier? This is the future king of Britain. He wields the sword Caliburn."
What? They have a long catalogue of magical weapons stored in the vault but she's mostly certain Caliburn is a sword of theirs.
"Hang on. That's the sword from the stone?" No wonder she hasn't seen it around. The sword isn't even their strongest weapon, but it is sharp. "Merlin stuck it in the rock and said only the rightful king can pull it out," Morgan says with a sly smile. "And people believed him? The half-demon that was supposed to be the anti-Christ. Truly, I can't wait until I get the ability to speak absolute nonsense and have everyone believe me," she scoffs. "My lady this boy is no Caesar." No chief or warlord was going to listen or bend the knee to him.
Artorius stands straight and it seems he does understand some Welsh. Clearly, they're talking about him.
"He is the rightful king. He will be a great king. It was prophesized."
More like organized by Merlin and Vivian. Is Caliburn on a loan? Morgan glances at the supposed rightful king of Britain and... "maybe Merlin should get him a helmet. I doubt his pretty locks will have the Saxons running. And look at how frail he looks. I do hope you and Merlin have some enhancements under your sleeve to aid our great king," she tries not sounding disrespectful. Even Viviane patience has a limit, Morgan is honestly waiting for the day she gets tired of Merlin's shenanigans and drown him.
"He will be ready and capable once he takes the throne. If you spent more time meditating you would be able to see his destiny," she chides her, and Morgan grits her teeth.
Destiny. Out of all the things she's learned in Avalon that is the most difficult to grasp.
"My lady-"
"We'll discuss this later," she smiles to Artorius. "Your teacher is waiting for you. Go wash your face and join him at the mess hall," she says in his tongue.
Artorius glances between the women. "I don't know the way."
They should put up some direction signs. "Morgan will show you."
Of course, she can't refuse her teacher and mother figure. She's not too attached to the boy to care if he is a pawn or not. But a silver of affection has been formed during the trip and she does care a bit. Maybe a little.
Huffing, she puts her hand on his back and leads him from the shore.
"Morgan are you mad?" he asks.
"A bit but I'll get over it. Our teachers are difficult to understand sometimes," she shakes her head.
They make it to the kitchen where Morgan hands the basket of mushrooms to the cooks. She's reminded that she is hungry and finds honey and bread to dine on. Out of courtesy she offers to share with Art. They eat together and Morgan senses a connection being built. What was it the lady said of Destiny and strangers? Losing her appetite she turns him over to Merlin and glares at the great Magus before seeking her sisters.
Talking to them doesn't give her deeper insight, they won't challenge or question Vivian's authority, but they do offer to get Merlin drunk and talking. Maybe they can find hidden meanings from him. In the end Morgan shakes her head. Like fairies she shouldn't concern herself over the workings of mortal men and a an evening meeting can't tie strangers together.
The magus and the squire leave the next morning and Morgan doesn't think more about it. She tries not to. Her meditations are interrupted by visions of Art. Her day dreams in class are interrupted by Art. Even in her sleep she sees the boy.
Asking Viviane isn't fruitful, "are you infatuated by knights in shining white armor Morgan? I'll introduce you to my foster son."
She halts her study in prophecy altogether. Days, weeks, and months pass. Avalon remains suspended between worlds, the girls train, and Viviane gazes into her dish of murky water.