Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first thing Morgana felt was a cold rough surface under her, her fingertips wet with the damp atmosphere. As soon as the incandescent green eyes adjusted to the surroundings, she sprung up, on guard.

Then, an alarming red glow emanated from the depth of the cave and it shone rhythmically, like a pulse. It felt like it was alive and unearthly. It was magic, yes Morgana was certain of it, but not the one that she was familiar with. It was tenfold stronger than hers.

Without warning, a hooded figure appeared right in front of her and her protective instincts kicked in as she blasted a spell with her eyes flashing gold. The figure did not move but merely blinked and the strong spell that Morgana cast dissipated into thin air. Instead, Morgana was held in place, with an inexplicable force that felt like it was constantly binding her. Each muscle in Morgana stiffened and was numb within seconds. Try as she might but Morgana’s attempts to escape the grip of the force were futile; neither writhing of her body nor magic of hers was able to set her free.

“It’s useless, Morgana. The more you try to struggle free, the stronger the force of restraint.” The hooded man’s voice echoed hollowly throughout the walls of the cave.

Then, all of a sudden, Morgana’s mouth started to slack naturally, free of the prior constraint. She was able to talk back again.

“How do you know my name? What do you want?! Who are you!?” Morgana barked with her throat hoarse and voice raspy.

“I am one of the judges of deeds, the newer ones, and I will send you to wherever I see fit. I know each and every one of whom I judged. You do not need to fret if you have done good deeds; however, misdeeds that you have done will be taken into account, and you will have to pay for it.”

He paused, “well that’s basically what my title implied.”

“How can someone who has not even gone through pain, grief and hatred on earth have a say in where I will be sent to?” Morgana hissed sardonically.

The man stood there in silence for a moment before saying, “We have the right to, apparently, and now the trial will begin.”

Morgana resigned to her fate as she stood there, defeated. She had never felt so weak, so powerless and helpless before.

The hooded man examined Morgana’s every expression closely as he conjured a flaming circular ring out of thin air and muttered an ancient phrase. With that, it flickered into life and colours other than the bright red started filling in to form a young girl with rich black hair helping the young golden hair boy to stand. For a moment, the warmth of the moment penetrates through the recesses of Morgana's heart before growing cold again when she realised it was her younger self helping Arthur. She bit her lips with the recollection of Arthur being obnoxiously similar to his father, Uther. But what comes after that in the floating circle made her impression of Arthur falter. It was her and Arthur helping out the villagers, the poor; then it shifted to Arthur rebelling against his father for, what they believed, was right despite him always wanting to make his father proud. The countless times that they put their lives at risk to save others in the name of justice with compassion…

Morgana's heart ached as she saw all these bits of her memory displayed in front of her. How did she not realise that Arthur, the lad that she once treated as her own brother, had always been noble, just and pure at heart all along? Then the vision of joyous times that she had spent with Arthur in the flame morphed into something darker with her being poisoned by merlin first to falling under Morguase’s brainwashing to she herself destroying her home and ruthlessly killing her people, for magic.

“No…no… NO! Why? Why…I don’t understand…”

She watched how her life was corrupted, decaying right in front of her eyes. Her lashes trembled as her heart shook violently in agony. She wanted to die again, forsake all the memories she had in this life to start anew. She wanted to scream, to release all her pent-up grief and sadness that she had buried with hatred when she was still living. The scene of her brutal massacre still continued playing before her as she witnessed a savage crazed beast that she refused to acknowledge-herself. She opened her mouth, wishing for a scream to crawl out of her throat but only a small whimper escaped. Tears that pooled in her eyes started streaming down effortlessly from the fatigue eye bags to the chilly hard ground.
She just wanted to seek justice for her kind, not to become a murderous monster.

Then, the flames returned to their original state, a raging fire ring while Morgana’s soul was torn mercilessly into pieces, her world crashing down on herself.

“This … i-is the end…of the tr-trial, isn’t it?” Morgana's voice quaked in between sobs, as if almost pleading for the trial to end.
“No, Morgana. This is only the beginning,” the hooded man said as indifferently as he could while drawing out a heavy book from the ring of fire. He then let the book to rest in the air as it flipped automatically. After a while, the rustling of pages came to a halt.

The hooded man eyed the floor where a rock resembling a stool protruded from the ground. With a snap of his fingers, he released Morgana from the invisible force that kept her still. Morgana dropped onto the floor, broken from all that she had witnessed of herself.

“Come, sit,” the hooded man gestured to the raised rock. Morgana nodded slowly as she drew out all her strength in her to trudge to the rock and slumped on it. After that, the hooded man made a simple movement with his hand and the ring of fire whirled back into life.

“Now, my first question would be one of yours in the past,” The hooded man said solemnly as he grabbed the book in the air as if he was ready to jot down anything that he had observed. Morgana wearily lifted her eyes to see the ‘past her’ questioning Arthur when he was hunting, “...And killing things mends a broken heart?” Morgana shook her head vehemently and said, “No.”

“Very well. Then would you kindly explain why did you take away so many innocent lives?”

Morgana paused for a moment before saying, “I did it out of hatred towards Uther’s unfair and cruel treatment of the magical beings. I did it so that Camelot can once again accept magic as it is; something to not be afraid of, something wonderful.”

The hooded man nodded as words began to race across the book in organized lines.

“Is it right that you are as cruel as Uther? That you harmed many innocent lives?”

“…yes, I am,” Morgana said in a wry laugh at the irony of the situation. Even though Morgana despised and strongly disapproved of Uther’s actions, she was no different in the end. She was another Uther, pitiful as she was blinded by prejudice, fear and intense resentment.

“Do you regret your actions?” asked the hooded man.
Morgana inhaled.

“Yes, deeply.”

“Thank you, that will be all,” the man said as he shut the book in his hand and slot it into the ring of fire.

“Is there anything else you want to know before I send you to take your respective punishment?”

Morgana mulled over the question for a while before her eyes drooped in sorrow and said, “Yes, actually. I wanted to know why I was poisoned by Merlin.” The man nodded and the ring of fire instantly showed Merlin being distressed about the entire Camelot sleeping as death slowly crept to them in a matter of time.

Then, the vision followed Merlin into the dungeon to meet the dragon, Kilgharrah to seek for advice which revealed that Morgause was the one who indirectly caused Camelot into that dire situation through Morgana as the vessel and that the only way to save Camelot was that either Morgause must undo the spell or Morgana must die and that dragon view that Morgana’s death is the only option.

Now, Morgana felt no animosity, just sadness and empathetic. Now, she knew that Merlin did not really want to poison her; it was just that, he had to save Camelot from the disaster and she was part of the reason why Camelot was enchanted to fall into a deep slumber.

It was her rotten luck and it was because of Morgause too. Morgause used her. She used her to let her home, her people die right before her eyes; and to know now, that it was also partly her own fault. Later, she witnessed Merlin hugging her with unbearable guilt and Morgause trading Morgana’s kingdom’s safety with the cure to save Morgana. Surprisingly, Merlin agreed. Morgana was still disappointed with Morgause using her unbeknownst to herself but yet relieved when Merlin wanted to save her. He was a powerful sorcerer, he could very well not cooperate with Morgause to bring Morgana back to life, but despite all the consequences that he would face after this decision, he still wanted Morgana to live.
Morgana felt the fog in her had lifted. She felt much better knowing the entire situation. She felt at peace. With a closure to her heart’s doubts and unrest, she smiled sadly and nodded and soon after, the images in the fire ring vanished.

“I am ready to accept my retribution now,” Morgana said sincerely as she stood up with her clear and resolute gaze onto the hooded man.

“Until I redeem myself, I will not let myself be at peace,” Morgana said quietly with her heart once ablaze with determination.

The hooded man smiled admiringly behind the dark red fabrics of his hood and said, “You have a beautiful, fine soul, but your deeds towards the last few years before your death were despicable. Hence your punishment is to take over the body of a mortal common girl killed by magic. Your main punishment is to feel and occasionally relive every grief and pain that you have inflicted on your people during the war and continue to live that girl’s life.”
Morgana let the weight of the situation sink in for a while. Then, with the bravery of a lion that she had once learnt from Arthur, she accepted the punishment willingly.

“Good luck, Morgana. I hope you remembered from what you have learnt and become a better person.” The voice faded into nothing as the light in the cave started to wane until everything was pitch black.

Chapter Text

Morgana's head spun with the loud blaring of horns and the trembling grounds of the battlefield, the beat of millions of hearts ricocheting throughout the land of Calamnn as the tragedy was beginning to unfold. The death of hundreds. From Morgana’s blurred vision, a burly man was seen intruding the tent in strides, wielding his weapon threateningly as he picked the scrawny soldier for his first target. Moments before the weapon struck into the man’s chest, a brave lady jerked a sword up the back of the intruder, twisted mercilessly, and drew it out without hesitation. They were like frames of pictures flipping past so fast that Morgana could not keep up with them. The brave lady with honey brown skin nodded firmly to the knight as he bowed with gratitude before charging out into the battlefield.

Morgana's head still felt tipsy and heavy, with millions of screams and painful howling ripping her from the inside. It was torturous, inhumanely excruciating--the pleading of villagers in Camelot, the last wishes and desperateness from dying knights who fought in the ongoing war. She tried to support her upper body up as her fingers rubbed her temple and her head involuntarily twitched and throbbed in pain. The lady with staggering courage amid chaos came in quick steps and placed the sword beside her bed as she lifted her callus hand upon Morgana’s forehead. Upclose, her face fades in and out, but the kindness in the hazel eyes was unwavering, shining through the depth of shrouding darkness.

Monica. Glad. Alright. These are the few words that Morgana could pick up from the lady’s speech. As her vision returned temporarily, she saw someone that was not attired in Camelot red uniform barged in and in an instant, Morgana stared hard at the stranger but nothing took place. No magic occurred when it should have been. The stranger continued to sneak up hastily on the brave lady who had her back facing him. Everything crawled into a slow pace as Morgana’s vision grew clear.

Without any redundant movement, Morgana scooped up the sword and swung it to block the attack in one fluid movement; then, she thrust her foot onto the man’s lower abdominal, causing the attacker to lose his balance and stole the second of a confused mind to drive the sword straight through the chest. The man shivered under the cold blade for a moment before Morgana extracted the blade from the attacker and he fell to the ground, dead.

Morgana, who exhausted all her energy collapsed onto the floor too, and all the heart-piercing cries of agony that she had regarded as white noise for a moment came filling back in. Morgana started to slip back into the darkness and the last thing she felt was the warm fingertips of the kind lady gripping her shoulders tightly.

*

Morgana was once again awakened as her brows twitched under the light that shone irritatingly on her face. She struggled to crawl up into an upright position as her mind was still swarmed with the woes of family members grieving over the loved ones they had lost in the battle. Morgana squinted as she surveyed the room; It was spacious with tiles that only nobles could afford and the room was filled with organised rows of beds with injured men sleeping or half awake. By the intricate, repetitive design carved on the walls and the dragon emblazoned on the luxurious, red flags that were draped on the wall, it was no doubt that Morgana was within the walls of Camelot Castle. Morgana left the bed, very slowly with her battle-bruised body as she steadied herself with the wall beside her and bent over the window to gaze upon the bustling roads streaming with villagers.

Morgana concluded that it should be a week after the war as businesses in Camelot started to recover. She sighed, content as her eyes lingered at the little pin-like heads moving around hastily. Even though her head still suffered from perpetual thoughts of intense grief, the peaceful view melted her heart. No more would there be war, and no more would there be suffering. It was a new beginning for Camelot.
Then the door burst open with two strangers -old with wrinkles- rushing towards her. The first stranger who approached her was a middle-aged lady who pulled her into a tight embrace and the other was a slightly older man who patted her back.

“Oh, you’re alive! It’s a miracle, a miracle!” the woman cried as she pulled back from the hug and examined Morgana, her crescent eyes welled with tears of joy.

“My dear Monica, I am always sure that you will be alright. Thank the lord for your recovery,” the man stroked her head fondly, and relief was expressed in the slight curve of his lips.

Morgana frowned slightly but feigned happiness. However, she was utterly confused for a moment until it hit her--She was in another body, one of a commoner girl. Her name was...Monica? Presumably so.

“W-what happened?” Morgana tread with caution as she looked at the two strangers with a dazed expression.

“Have you forgotten? You sneaked into the camp at Camlann two weeks ago to fight against Morgana’s army alongside your brother? Honestly, that’s bonkers!”

“Did I?” Morgana's jaw dropped in surprise at the insane pluck that the girl must have possessed. What a sister this brother had! Brother... oh is he...

“ Is my brother alright?” Morgana asked hesitantly.

“Yes, Declan is still alive and kicking. He has recovered fast.” The man replied.

“Well, since you are well, you must certainly come home with us. Oh, let’s have a celebratory dinner tonight! I’ll cook you your favourite mushroom herb stew.”

Before the woman was carried away by the excitement of bringing Morgana home, the man held her hand and hinted, “The queen…”

As if remembering something, her mouth formed the shape of an “O” and said, “Oh, right. The queen wants to meet you, dear. She’s waiting for you at the great hall.”

“Alright, I’ll meet you at the entrance of the castle.” The two agreed wordlessly and left with the woman wrapping her arm around the man’s arm. From what Morgana deduced so far, these two were most likely Monica’s parents, which are hers now.

Morgana breezed through the familiar walls of the castle as her heart skipped joyfully. She had a mother in this life. A mother! She wondered what daughters would do with their mothers. Sewing and cooking, perhaps?

Soon, a wide door came into view and two guards were protecting the entries as usual. She reported her name, and with the guards looking her up and down, they nodded to each other as they opened the door to the grand hall.

Lights from the halls spilt in immediately from the arched windows that lined up neatly on both sides of the room. In the centre sat a queen on a lonely yet majestic chair. Her eyes showed hints of lethargy, but her presence was so impactful that Morgana looked in awe. (for a really long time) Her confident posture, warm smile, affirmative nod, and an air of wisdom that she exuded. Morgana was a bit taken aback by the Guenivre that was before her. Long gone was the servant girl who used to serve her eagerly; she grew up.

“Ah! Forgive me, your Highness, for being rude,” Morgana curtsied, “ I heard you were looking for me?”

The queen laughed gently and said, “Yes, I am here to deliver my gratitude to you.”

“Pardon?” Morgana's face was written in confusion, “W-whatever did I do to deserve your gratitude?”

“You saved me from an attack in Camlann, and you fought for Camelot. We have honoured all the knights and villagers who have chipped in last week for their bravery and loyalty in the fight for Camelot’s safety. Unfortunately, you were still in a coma then.”

So the kind lady is Gwen!

Guinevere paused, and her smile beamed brighter, “I must say, you are the bravest of them all, joining in the battlefield regardless of your parents' disapproval and the dangers you might face. You were the first woman to lay down your life for Camelot on the battlefield, and that is very admirable of you.”

Morgana's face flustered red; although she could not take half the credit, her heart still leapt and somersaulted in joy. However, like an ice pail pouring down on her, she realised the very reason why the war started was because of her.

“Your Highness, I am deeply touched by your kind words, but my people are fighting for Camelot and I cannot stand by and do nothing. Hence, I find it within me to fight alongside my people for Camelot.”

Guinevere's eyes drooped wistfully as she said, “ You reminded me of someone...such nobility you and he share! How do you feel about being the first dame in Camelot?”

Morgana’s eyes widened in surprise and her jaws nearly fell onto the ground. Dame? Had she heard right? Guinevere would be legalising women to become a knight? However, Morgana was worn out from all the fighting she had done in her past life. She quitted. She was done with her past lifestyle; she sought to live in peace now.

“I appreciate the offer, but I am afraid I cannot accept it. My parents would be worried sick.”

Guinevere shook her head and waved her hand in an attempt to diffuse the tension. “It’s alright! I understand! Hmm...How about,” She stood up as she crossed the room and the distance between them shortened with each step she took.

“Would you like to be my maidservant?” Guinevere asked sincerely. Now, they were only a few feet apart, and if the wind were very kind to sweep her wavy, brown hair, it would be able to brush against her gently. Her eyes, up close, swirled with nature and the strength and gentleness that came with it. It was full of life. This was a chance, a chance that they could possibly be close again, just like the old days. Just like the old days...

“Yes...Yes, I would be delighted to be your maidservant,” the words tumbled out of her mouth as her eyes shifted away from Guinevere and to the dull floor quickly as heat suffused from the depth of her chest.

“Excellent! I will grant you a week off to recover and you will come back to the castle and begin your chores. Are you alright with it?”

“Yes, your highness! Will that be all?”

“Yes, you may take your leave,” Guinevere said, her eyes smiling for the first time since the war.

Morgana curtsied clumsily and left the hall at once while trying to keep her balance. The intense warmth that was sprouting from her chest was unfathomable. Morgana knew Guinevere was kind, beautiful, and strong. Morgana knew she gave her that fluttery-cosy feeling back in those days when she was her maidservant. She knew and knew, but when she felt it, especially after so many years when they went their separate ways, it struck her heartstrings and played a melody so astounding that her entire body quaked involuntarily.
She floated her way towards her parents, and when they talked, it all became blurry murmurs and all she replied was mm-hmm, yeah, and the two words repeated throughout the conversation as they returned home.
Everything seemed too good to be true.

Chapter Text

Rubbed, lifted and squeezed. Then, these linen clothes were soaked over again with water splashing around her pruned up hands and sliding down her arms playfully back into the basin of water.

It was morning and the fog was starting to dissipate, leaving the dews hanging onto the bending grass. Despite the cool air of an Autumn morning, Morgana found herself sweating profusely as heat swelled within her.

Never in her life, did she feel… this…exhausted.

Usually, she would wash her clothes by casting a few spells on them. Ha, it was such a simple task then.

Now, without magic, she got to squat beside the river and manually wash piles of clothes for what seemed like an eternity. It was worse than doing chores such as doing the dishes and scrubbing the floor in the past few days.

In retrospect, Morgana was delighted that she had a break from being entrapped in the four walls while going through intensive training specially planned by her mother. The fresh air of nature was a pleasant welcome from the surge of copious amounts of dust in her every attempt to clean the room.

“Won’t you look at this wonderful morning! Having the time of your life there, aren’t you, Mon?” a voice teased. A man ambled lazily down the slope down to the river with an axe swinging in his hands.

“Why, isn’t it my dear brother, Sir Declan, coming to pay a visit to me? Wouldn’t you be a dear and take over the washing?”

A deep chuckle followed as Declan shook his head and said, “I am tasked to collect firewood for the fireplace, and I have a fair share of household chores today, so my dear sister, you’ll have to carry on washing.”

“Hahaha, looks like you can’t escape from chores too!”

“Yeah, apparently being enlisted into the Royal Army and appointed as a knight is not an excuse to evade household chores,” Declan paused, “ Mum said every lady’s dream is to have their husband to help out with household chores, hence the reason of why I am carrying out these taxing activities. But, it’s not like I have any eyes for the ladies in Camelot!”

“It’s not like anyone fancies you, to begin with,” Morgana pointed out, helpfully.

"I am confident that there's at least one lady who loves me."

"..."

"Actually yes, yes, there is one," Morgana said slowly, mischief shining in her eyes.

"You see? I told you–"

" It's Mum," Morgana interrupted.

“Yes, wait what? Mum? Not really…she loves you more.”

Morgana inhaled the crisp morning air as she took a glance at Declan, who was currently ruminating as if his soul had entered another realm of his own.

Morgana shifted her eyes back to the basin of water and soap, which reacted to every slight whistle of the wind. Then she caught a glimpse of her own reflection, a stranger staring back at her. What would she do? For her brother?

“I think Mum loves us all equally, in her special ways.”

Another wind blew, ruffling Declan’s hair and running through Morgana’s hair before leaving the two on their own.

“I best be chopping down some woods right now,” Declan’s voice floated lightly, but his steps were heavy. Then, he paused in his tracks and turned to face Morgana and said, “Thanks.”

“Your gratitude is accepted,” Morgana put on a snobbish tone before changing back to her usual tone, “Anytime you need to talk, just remember you have a sister who…well, love to know which tree you are bringing home as your girlfriend to introduce to us!”

“Monica!” Declan said exasperatedly but chuckled as well while Morgana guffawed with tears squeezing from both eyes.

After that, they waved goodbye and continue to carry out their chores.

As that day was the day before Morgana’s work as the Queen’s maidservant started, there was a small feast for dinner and the scrumptious mushroom herb stew was once again present in the midst of the other dishes crowding on the table. Mum was sitting beside father while Declan sat facing them.

The feeling of sitting together as a family in close proximity was still foreign to Morgana. In the past, the members of the royal family would sit across the long table with quite a distance between them. The atmosphere was formal, distant, reserved. That was a vast contrast to the warmth of a family huddling together to have dinner, and she definitely preferred the latter more. She smiled as she gobbled down her serving of the mushroom soup delightfully, with bits of mushroom stuck at the corner of her mouth.

“Goodness, Monica! Have you forgotten my one hour lesson on table manners?” Mum said. Monica straightened her back as she swept a piece of lettuce from her plate and used it as a napkin to wipe her mouth daintily. “Never, Ma’am,” Morgana replied courteously.

Her mother shook her head and chuckled while her brother choked on his food due to the sudden urge to laugh. Dad smiled as he ate his lettuce quietly and said, “All of you had worked hard over the past few days; hence we prepared this little feast as a reward. Hopefully, we can return to the days before the war, but right now, I am glad to have my kids both alive and well. If you face any difficulties in the future, know that you have a family to turn to and we can solve them together, as a family, alright?

“Yeah, I know,” Morgana replied and the young man who’s recovering from the gag raised a thumbs-up. So that was how the night ended, with everyone stuffed with food and love.

*

As the first rays of the sun seeped through the horizon, Morgana and Declan got up and readied themselves before leaving their home. Their parents woke up several minutes before they left and bid them goodbye as they watched their two children heading towards Camelot Castle.

Dad noticed the worry in the crease of Mum’s brow and held her hand and squeezed it lightly.

“They’ll be alright, Chels.”

“But what if our dear Mon makes a mistake and is punished really badly by the Queen?” Mum turned to Dad as her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her apron nervously.

“You know the Queen isn’t like that. She’s a benevolent ruler,” Dad said as he hugged Mum sideways and gave her a light pat on her left shoulder. Then he closed the front door and both of them started to busy themselves with making baked goods for their bakery.

When Morgana received the list of the chores to be done, she took in a deep breath. It would be a lie if she said she was not overwhelmed but the tasks stated on the yellow-stained paper were all manageable. She was well-prepared. NO task is more rigorous than her Mum’s special one-week INTENSIVE training.

“Alright, let’s get on with this,” Morgana said as she sped down the many corridors of the castle to the kitchen. First, breakfast must be prepared. She remembered that Gaius said breakfast was the most important meal out of the three meals. That was when she was young and upset about her brother, Arthur, mocking her for being chubby. He had always been tactless when it comes to words.

So, she went on to arrange a loaf of Rye bread with a few lettuces as a base with some slices of ham spread evenly beside the bread. Then she sprinkled bits of rosemary over the bread and added one or two cherry tomatoes onto the plate. As she was searching for where the berries were stored in the kitchen, she espied a lean figure moving about the kitchen hastily. He grabbed several items in his arms and deposited them onto the kitchen counter.

He was way thinner than the last time she saw him, almost to the point where he was just skin and bones. His dark curls shadowed his fatigued eyes, and he looked pale. He was so pale that it made his dark blue clothes stand out and barn red neckerchief even brighter. No one could mistake him for anyone, for everyone in the castle knew that the curly, dark-haired lad who wore a brown jacket over a blue tunic with a red neckerchief was none other than Merlin himself.

“Um, hi. Do you know where the berries are kept?”

“In the basket covered with a piece of cloth on the third row of the shelf at the left corner of the kitchen,” Merlin replied.

“Thank you,” Morgana replied as she went to fetch the basket of berries.

As she poured some of the berries into a porcelain bowl, Merlin, who was standing a yard away asked, “So you’re new here?”

“Yes, and you?”

“Oh no, I’ve been here for ages, working my ass for a royal prat!” He smiled forlornly.

“Oh, so you’re a manservant then.”

“Well, um, yeah...”

“Ah, looks like we are in the same boat. What’s life as a manservant like?” Morgana continued to play along with the scenario where Merlin was still working as a manservant.

“The first few days of my job as a manservant was crazy. I had to put up with my employer’s supercilious attitude and demanding orders. I worked day and night and never received any thanks, that royal asshole. But he was the best employer I’ve seen; just, caring and noble, a man that keeps his words. And although he might treat me like shit from time to time, he was there with me through thick and thin and trusted me with all his heart.”

Silence hung in the air like a weight on both of them.

“Sounds like you like him in the end,” Morgana said.

Merlin's hands were still busy preparing breakfast, but his pensive eyes were staring at the wall blankly. At long last, he said, “Yeah, I do.”

As soon as she finished warming up the milk, she transferred the plates of food onto the tray with a napkin at the side of the tray. “Well, it was delightful to chat with you but I have to go now. Till next time?"

“Yeah, I hope your first day goes smoothly!”

“Thanks,” Morgana nodded as she exited the kitchen with breakfast in her hands.

As it turns out, her day did when smoothly.

In the morning, Gwen complimented the breakfast that she made and tidying the bedroom was done efficiently.

In the afternoon, after she served lunch to Gwen, she had to ask the chef lady for lunch which was a little tricky as she was rather unfriendly. But if you show her some respect, she could be a little nice as well. As Morgana thanked her for letting her have the stew, the chef beamed with joy and complimented her for being a lovely person, unlike someone who’s ungrateful, insolent and only insulted her food.

In the evening, Morgana had some spare time so she went to pick some flowers to decorate the vase, which was empty in Gwen’s room. She had chosen a bunch of oddly familiar purple wildflowers with fresh daisies, and as expected, Gwen adored it.

In the night, Morgana met Merlin by coincidence again and they had a light conversation about their day. When Merlin was asked about his employer, his eyes dimmed for a split second before shrugging and saying jokingly that he still is the clotpole that he usually is.

Morgana nodded in empathy and laughed along, but when Merlin left, Morgana felt a sharp ache in her heart and it felt like her heart was stabbed and yanked out multiple times. She clutched her chest in pain as she bent forward.

That old magic was working up again.

Morgana raised her eyes to look at Merlin who is nothing but a blob in the distance and wondered, just how much grief and pain did he try to bury?

Chapter Text

“Have you heard? Magic is about to be legal in Camelot!”

“Blimey, perhaps you have heard wrong?”

“No, how could I? It was publicly announced in the heart of Camelot! Everyone was there to receive the shocking news! Everyone except you who was snoring away.”

“I know there would be a day like this that would be coming, but I didn’t think it would be this soon…”

“Tch. To allow magic to be legal at such a time when Camelot’s weak, has the queen lost her marbles?”

…I always knew women couldn’t rule…miss King Arthur…what the hell…oh dear…

That afternoon, the news of the decision on legalising magic by the next week spread like wildfire. It was, after all, the first piece of unprecedented news that struck Camelot since the war they had in Camlann.

The peaceful ambience that the kingdom of Camelot established as of late was now gone and replaced by floods of opinions on the controversial topic of magic’s legalisation.
Meanwhile, the queen ordered the knights to gather in the Main Hall of the castle right after the announcement have been made. The knights filed into the hall while being engaged in a heated discussion, some gesturing their hands in the air, some nodding their heads as they listen and others just waiting quietly. As soon as all the knights are present in the room, the queen raised her hand and the prior buzz that simmered in the room died down immediately.

All eyes were on the queen.

Gwen surveyed the room and nodded as she said, “Thank you all for coming here as quick as possible. I call you here to guard the castle vigilantly, as well as to protect the people of this kingdom from getting hurt this week and I hope to seek your support in my cause to welcome magic back to Camelot.”

The queen drew a deep breath before allocating tasks to separate groups of knights and explained the rationality behind her decisions. Half of the knights were to patrol around the kingdom to protect the civilians from any physical abuse that might stem from the legalisation of magic; the other half were to undertake the task of protecting the castle from being damaged by the rioters if there were any. Leon was tasked to assume the role as the minister of internal affairs temporarily for that week as the queen was busy rewriting specific laws and legislating laws for other fields that were not covered. The knights raised some questions, to which she replied in a precise manner. Her plan had a direction; her vision was clear.

She rose and took a few steps forward while the clouds parted and light fell onto her.

“I know this week will be tough on you all, but I have faith that you will carry out your duties with perseverance as knights of Camelot, for we are doing this for our home, for Camelot. I do not wish for Camelot to be tormented by hatred and fear from the past; but rather, I wish that we’ll open a new chapter together, one that will ensure happiness, safety and peace in this kingdom. Will you join me, my fellow people?

Silence.

Then, what ensued was a chorus of willingness that erupted within the halls of the room.

“For CAMELOT!” The Queen beamed with pride.

“For CAMELOT!” The knights echoed as they pumped their fists.

After the meeting, Gwen rushed to her room to get her pen, ink, papers with words scrawled all over them and thick books as she tore through the many corridors and entered the Royal Library hastily. There, Morgana stood beside a desk closest to the glass-tainted window at the very end of the library. The light from the overhead window glowed and lit up the swirling dust particles that danced across the library.

Morgana bowed to Gwen as she said, “ Your Majesty, will this spot in the Library do? It is the brightest place in the library.”

“Yes, it will do. Thank you very much.”

Then, just before Gwen began to immerse herself in rewriting the laws and referring to her notes to refresh her memory of her research of past laws and events, a platter came into her view.

“Your Majesty, you might perhaps prefer to take your lunch first?”

Gwen’s hurried action of flipping pages stopped for a moment as she furrowed her brows. Then it came to her. She had not taken her lunch yet.

“Oh yes, thanks for reminding me. Haha, I’ve totally forgotten about lunch!”

As Gwen was finishing up the last bits of food on the platter, a man in long robes burst into the Royal Library with half-eaten bread in one hand and books in the other.

Geoffrey, the librarian, shook his head and grimaced slightly before returning to dust the library shelves.

“Sorry! I-I (huff) was car-(huff)-ried away(huff) withsomething.” Merlin ended his sentence quickly as he gasped for air. He was dressed in a robe made of the finest sapphire silk with the different constellation stars embroidered onto it. He also wore a white tunic with a collar under the cloak.

“So, you finally decided to wear the robes? They look great on you!”

“Thanks. Well, I figured I had to wear it sooner or later before you write in that book of yours that it’s mandatory for me to wear the robes during work,” Merlin said sheepishly.

“Merlin, there’s soap on your hair,” Gwen pointed out, “Did you do –”

“No, no I didn’t! I was uh-helping Gaius to clean his room! You know, he's old and needs help to do the chores,” Merlin cast a spell to dry his hair immediately and shifted his feet nervously as he tried to laugh it off.

“Sure,” Gwen squinted her eyes before they lit up, “Ah, I’ve forgotten to introduce you to my new maidservant. Merlin, this is Monica; Monica, this is Merlin, the Court Magician.”

With that introduction, Morgana raised her brows, amused by the situation that Merlin was stuck in. On the other hand, Merlin implored Morgana with his eyes as if they were saying ‘Don’t tell about how we met’ over and over again.

“So, it seems like you’ve met each other.”

The panic in Merlin’s eyes grew as he waited for Morgana’s response anxiously.

“Yeah, we met along the corridors once or twice and he helped me out sometimes.”

Merlin stiffed posture relaxed almost immediately and his immense relief was so evident that even Gwen could feel it and gave him a questioning look but chose to ignore it soon after.

After that, Gwen and Merlin head back to tackle the challenging task of making Camelot’s law. Merlin had a tougher time making laws due to the fact that all the past records of Laws on Magic had been burnt under the order of Uther Pendragon. He had to start from scratch. The two of them buried themselves in their respective work and were seemingly undisturbed by the passing of time. As night arrived, Geoffrey lit up the candles on the walls of the library and as he walked past the table where the two were working, he paused.

Emotions of joy and reassurance filled in the old man’s heart; he no longer had to worry about Camelot when he was gone, she would be in safe hands.

Morgana left the Royal Library and returned shortly with dinner for Gwen and Merlin. It was a simple dish that the two can enjoy eating while carrying on with their task. As they chewed on the sandwiches while writing lines after lines of laws and regulations, Morgana watched them from a corner. She never knew that the duties and responsibilities of a ruler can be that much of a burden. Yes, she knew that papers must be done as a ruler, but the process of rewriting the entire law, yet being troubled over the people’s feelings towards the changes made to the laws was something she had not considered when she wanted to rule Camelot in the past. Then again, she had not been the most altruistic, public-spirited person back then.

A yawn from Gwen pulled Morgana back to reality. Morgana realised that she can barely stay awake, with her hand propping her head and her eyes on the verge of closing. Merlin was still going strong though, but his writing pace seemed to slow down.

“Gwen, how about taking a rest?”

“But, I…have to finish this…as soon… as possible,” Gwen's head bobbed a few times as she forced herself to press on.

“You’ll finish your work faster if you sleep now, so go to bed okay?”Morgana coaxed. Gwen was utterly exhausted so she had no energy left to retort and followed Morgana back to her own room.
As soon as Gwen hit the bed, she dozed off within seconds. The corners of Morgana's lips tugged upwards unwittingly as she recalled the days when she had nightmares as a princess.
Gwen would cuddle her closely as she sang a tune that calmed the ferocious storm within her. Then, in the safe arms of her maidservant, they slept together. They were so close then, but she had to let hatred rip her relationship with Gwen apart.

Those good, old days.

Morgana's gaze lingered on Gwen for a little longer, and then she brushed Gwen’s strands of stray hair gently to the side. Afterwards, she drew the blanket over her gingerly, up to Gwen’s shoulders.

As Morgana let go of the blanket, she felt a tug on her sleeve.

“Why… leaving?”

Morgana kept silent. Then she tried to pry the fingers away but Gwen’s grip on her sleeve remained firm.

‘...come back…promise?’

Morgana bit her lips. She had no idea who Gwen was talking to but she could tell it was someone important. Maybe someone that left her forever because right now, Gwen was frowning as her fingers clamped on her sleeve tightly.

“I- alright, I promise,” Morgana said. Technically she had already returned, just secretly, but she doubted that the person Gwen was talking about was her. With the reassurance Gwen needed, she let go of her sleeve and her tense expression finally relaxed. Morgana took one last look at Gwen before dragging her feet away. She knew it was childish, but she could not help but envy the person on Gwen’s mind. That person was missed, but she was positive that no one would miss her…after all the dreadful things she had brought to everyone.

When Morgana stepped into the library, Merlin was still writing, his pen moving sluggishly across the book. Then his eyes travelled lazily around the library as if in a trance. At last, his eyes fell onto Morgana and he sprung up from his seat.

“Thank you for not telling Gwen about the kitchen stuff. She’ll be really mad if she finds out and would deliver me a long lecture, haha.”

“So you’re not a manservant?”

“Uh, yeah. I used to, though now I’m a court magician,” Merlin replied ruefully.

“Then why are you preparing breakfast in the kitchen?” Morgana raised an eyebrow while crossing both her arms.

“Um,” Merlin shuffled his feet, “I… it’s a habit, yes, a habit that I need time to overcome.”

“Oh, okay,” Morgana nodded, “ Better luck next time in breaking your habit! You have a reputation of a Court Magician to maintain, after all.”

“That’s what Gwen said,” Merlin mumbled as his shoulders slumped.

“Ah, before I forget. If you want to sleep over at the library, use these items to enhance your sleeping experience in a dusty room. Words from a concerned old man,” Morgana said as she dumped a quilt and a pillow into Merlin’s arm.

“These are my stuff. How’d you get this?”

“Gaius passed it to me on my way back to the library.”

Merlin looked hard at the items at hand, and something was glistering at the corners of his eyes. Then, he composed himself and said, “Thanks.”

The following day, Morgana woke up at the break of dawn and tidied herself within seconds. Then she hurried to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Morgana was starting to get used to this routine. She might even like it. She got to enjoy the streaks of pink and orange clouds stretching across the vast blue every morning and was able to chat with Gwen every day as she brought in her meals.

Morgana smiled.

As she carried the morning breakfast up to the Queen’s room, she walked past a room sitting alone at the far end of the corridor and halted.

A sob echoed, followed by another.

The sobbing was rather faint and Morgana’s ears barely caught it but it was there.

Morgana frowned. This was her brother’s room. Surely it was closed up and unoccupied. She peered into the room through the gap between the door and the wall and the first thing that caught her attention was that everything was surprisingly immaculate despite not being cared for over the past few months. There should be dust and cobwebs covering every inch of the room but it just looked like…how it used to be before.
Then there was another strangled sob and her eyes located its source.
It was from a scrawny man with his usual red scarf and brown leather jacket–Merlin. He was holding on to a —red tunic? Yeah, and he clutched it closed to his chest. Concurrently, Morgana started to feel the growing pain in her chest and decided on the spot to serve the Queen her breakfast before she dropped it due to the aching.

That day, Merlin, who was back in his robes, and Gwen completed forming the latest legislation of Camelot. The soldiers were also on their guard and were visited by her Majesty at night, who thanked them for guarding Camelot Castle. Meanwhile, rumours and gossip brewed in the sleepy nights of Camelot, awaking the dragon of fear and anger that was once dormant in the hearts of the people.

On the third day, a group of six men stood outside of the castle, holding banners and protesting peacefully for her Majesty to change her mind about the legalisation of magic. Meanwhile, three men watched them quietly in the shade, and then they slipped into the darkness.

On the fourth day, A mob of protestors rushed towards the guards, their pitchforks, shovels, and sticks all waving threateningly as they demanded to see the Queen and talk to her. The knights defended the castle with difficulty as they tried to avoid hurting the protestors simultaneously. Meanwhile, the Queen and the Court Magician ran through the legislation in the Law of Magic and the Law of Camelot.

On the Fifth day, more protestors gathered at the front of the castle. Their gestures more vigorously, their voice boomed louder, and the rage of their stomps shook the floors of Camelot. Most of the knights are concentrated at the gates of Camelot, doing their very best to prevent the protestors from invading the Castle. The citizens had also secretly organised a group that ‘identified’ sorcerors and beat them up. Usually, the back alley was where such activities transpired and the knights had so far reported 30-odd cases over the two days to Sir Leon. The men in the shades continue to watch attentively.
The sun rises again from the horizon, a day left to the public reading of Camelot’s Laws. As Gwen and Merlin were going through tomorrow’s schedule and the execution of the public reading, Sir Leon burst into the room.

“Gwen! Our Knights can no longer fend off the thousands invading the castle grounds! The people demand to see you.”

“Withdraw the soldiers at once and tell them I’ll be there in a moment!”

Sir Leon gave Gwen one last worried look before he rushed off.

Then Gwen turned to Merlin and said, “Whatever you do, don’t use magic yet. The people are highly sensitive about it now and might attack you.”

“Yeah, I know I know,” Merlin nodded and said, “Let’s go.”
“Wait! May I come along?” Morgana grabbed a sheathed sword from the display stand, “ I want to protect you, Your Majesty.”

“You may,” Gwen smiled gratefully, “Now let’s hurry.”

The trio hastily make their way to the castle entrance and signalled the knights to open its doors. The knight obeyed and the door opened gradually, revealing a sea of people thrusting their weapons and fists up in the air and then down again.

“WE WANT TO SEE THE QUEEN NOW! WE WANT TO SEE THE QUEEN NOW!”

Cries of the old, the young, men, women, and youths pierced through the chilly winds, the tension in the air peaked. Rotten vegetables were tossed onto the stairs, each time with more zest than the last.

“Oh, this is strangely nostalgic,” Merlin broke into a smile as he side-eyed Gwen.

“Yeah, I’ll be joining you this time!” Gwen laughed.

“I’ll shield you with my sword, your Majesty,” Morgana said.

“I would like to have such privilege service too,” Merlin sighed.

“I’ll do my best.”

With a silent agreement, they walked towards the platform of the stairs, joining Leon to face the infuriated citizens; Morgana had her sword drawn, Merlin gripped onto the hem of his sleeves and Gwen’s gaze was set straight at her people.

She would achieve peace between Magic and her people together with her friends, she was certain of that.

Chapter Text

Morgana swept into the open area first; her blade swerved and with accuracy, she sliced all the assailing food mid-air. Then, she swung her sword diagonally to clean her blade.

“Listen up! If any of your rotten vegetables touch the queen one bit, I’ll make sure you regret it for life.”

Swish.

 An apple thrown from the far left was pierced into the sharp blade of Morgana’s sword.

“DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?”

At this point, everyone, even the rash and the wooden head, knew they were dealing with someone dangerous and would think twice before acting. The crowd went dead silent, and the unwilling could only glare at their Queen, nothing more.

Morgana nodded at Gwen, and then she took a few steps back while the queen approached the thousands before her. 

“Good afternoon everyone. I have heard your urgent request to speak to me, thus the reason for my presence here. However, I would like to address a few things first.”

Gwen looked across the entire stretch of people.

“There have been cases of physical abuse on random people who are perceived as sorcerors. These acts might seem justified and even righteous among some of you, but under the new laws of Camelot, such offences that are done unto others are unacceptable. Perpetrators of such acts will be sentenced to jail for two months and fined from 60 groats to 100 groats depending on the severity of the injuries. For those who have already committed such a crime, you will only be sentenced to one week of imprisonment but from today onwards, we will implement the law I just mentioned.”

Gwen paused.

“Secondly, we are going to hold the Public Reading of the new Laws of Camelot tomorrow as I mentioned a few days ago. I wish that all of you would patiently listen to the laws and reserve your questions after the reading. Anyone who attacked or yell profanity at another person will be detained for one day and ordered to sweep the streets of Camelot for two weeks. After all, Camelot’s streets have been neglected for quite a while.”

The whispers grew.

“Lastly, our decision to legalise magic is final. However, our laws about magic will only be set in stone tomorrow.”

The crowd was in an uproar within seconds.

“MAGIC CLAIMED OUR LOVED ONES!” someone hollered.

The crowd agreed in unison. Some broke down in tears. The bitterness of many individuals whose scars are still raw sneaked up onto Morgana, making her nauseous. 

“You’re no queen! You don’t care about the well-being of your people!”

“Yeah, you’re putting us in danger!”

A man in a leather jacket said, “ She must be an evil enchantress and cast a spell on King Arthur so that he can fall in love with her. Then she can be Queen and legalise Magic again!”

Now the murmuring is almost deafening. Morgana bit her lips as she held back from doing anything foolish. It did not end well the last time she was impulsive. From the corner of her eyes, she can see Merlin restraining himself too. His knuckles turned white due to him squeezing his clothes.

“Wasn’t she accused of being a sorcerer before?” A lady said

“What if the Queen deliberately CLAIMED the KING’S LIFE!”

“Preposterous!”Leon shouted, “The Queen loved the King and her people!”

“For all you know, you might be bewitched to think that way too!”

Now, Morgana's head was dizzy from all the outraged shouts and bitterness that seemed to be caving in on her. She staggered in front of Gwen and dropped her sword onto the floor.

Clang, the sword fell onto the ground and everyone went silent. They have almost forgotten the existence of this crazy lady.

“I understand… All the pain, grief and fear that Magic cause you. I for one do not have magic and was nearly killed by magic too.”

Morgana faltered a bit as she tried to maintain her balance.

“But for those on the battlefield during the battle of Camlann, do you remember the lightning that stroke down our enemies? Those flashes of lightning… were not a natural phenomenon. They were Magic, done by the loyal manservant who always stood beside King Arthur. Without Magic, we Camelot might never win that battle.”

Now everyone's heads were down, ruminating about the past events. All traces of prior ire that burned in their eyes dissipated.

“In the past, King Uther enacted a massacre of all who practised magic — The Great Purge. The reason for his killing was because his beloved wife, Igraine, who was infertile, passed away while bearing a child with the help of magic. That child was Arthur, who later became a great king that we will all remember. We, both sorcerers and common folks have all been hurt, our loved ones taken from us due to hatred and fear from the other party; must we repeat this costly mistake once more only to wake up and find more of our loved ones gone?”

Morgana's voice quaked. She really didn’t want that.

“So let’s put away our differences, the blood-stained past, and work together to create a harmonious, just and safe world for us to live in! Let us not fear Magic because it is not evil; hatred is! It will corrupt our souls till we are twisted and no longer humane. That, that is our main enemy, fellow countrymen.”

The silence hung for a while and soon, a buzz in the crowds started to form.

Morgana can see the concern written on their face, but they seemed to be less resistant to the legalisation of magic. They don’t trust the Queen. The seed of doubt had already been sowed. Morgana's pensive eyes glanced at Gwen once more before she said, “ My fellow countrymen, please raise your hand if you were saved or taken care of by the Queen”

The first person who raised his hand was the guy Morgana saw in the tent in Camlann. His hand shot up straight away. Gradually, one hand raised led to another, then ten more, and it multiplies across the crowd. Soon enough, nearly half of the people standing around the castle raised their hands. It was overwhelming. The people themselves seemed to be astounded too. 

“I know that King Arthur is a great ruler and that nothing in history can replace him, but Queen Guinevere is also doing her best to be a ruler and has contributed much to this kingdom thus far. Hence, I sincerely ask of you to give Gwen a chance to rule Camelot and respect her as your Queen. Thank you for listening.”

Morgana bowed deeply and head back to the side of the stage. Meanwhile, Gwen needed a few seconds to recover from a daze before she wrapped up this whole announcement. Somehow, when Monica spoke, she saw another faint shadow of someone else. Her posture, her words, they are all too similar.

The next day, the Public Reading of the new Laws Of Camelot commenced in the heart of Camelot. It was not smooth sailing as there were varied opinions towards the laws coming from here and there and Morgana had to jot them down and organised them on the spot. There were some positive responses from the crowd, especially from the girls and women when it was announced that they were entitled to education and are enabled to take up jobs that were exclusively reserved for males only before. That includes being a dame; and of course, a few conservative old women frowned but Morgana guessed that they still need time to get used to the changes.

When it came to Merlin’s turn to read the laws of Magic, a few men yelled expletives toward Merlin and tried to rile up the crowd. They were detained by Leon, naturally. There was significantly more apprehension with regards to the people’s safety and treatment amongst those with magic and those who don’t. However, after Merlin and Gwen addressed these problems, the people were more relieved and hopeful than before. 

In the next few days, three men were seen sweeping the dusty streets where rubbish was strewn everywhere. They were supervised by none other than Morgana’s unfortunate brother, Knight Declan. 

It’s approaching winter and the harsh gale left its mark on the flushed cheeks of the trio and Declan while they were out sweeping and collecting rubbish at their own pace. 

"Bloody hell there's so much rubbish here!" said a Middle-aged man with a pale green scarf. 

" It's freezing here too!" said a lanky teenager. 

"I'll just pick up the rubbish that you sweep," The short man said as he held it to the wooden box. 

"That's not fair," The teenager said. 

"Nothing's fair, young lad," the short man said. 

" Then 'm not sweeping," the teenager said as he crossed his arms. 

It’s already early evening and Declan felt so dead he just wanted to get over with his duty and head home. And then there's this trio who's arguing about sweeping the floor when they were the ones who brought this upon themselves. 

"If all of you don't start sweeping now, you might not finish it by night and let me tell you, none of you are allowed to rest till the street is swept thoroughly. This is the Queen's Order."  Declan drawled while looking at them with his half-opened eyes. 

"BLOODY HELL, THAT QUEEN'S A–" 

A death glare penetrated to the depth of the green-scarf man's heart as his eyes met two pools of icy black eyes. 

"Go on," Declan's smile was flipped back on, "I'll write it down, send it to the Queen and get you another fun mission to complete" 

"Damn mate, 'm sweeping first," the teenager said as he left hastily to sweep the floor. The further away from that scary-looking guy, the better. 

The green-scarf man grunted as he started to sweep too. They started at the top of the city first before gradually proceeding downtown. It was going rather swimmingly at first but their movement became more sluggishly as the sun sank into the horizon lazily. 

"Hey, short guy, bring over the box, " a green-scarf man shouted across the road. 

"Yeah, coming. " Short man replied as he trudged over to the green-scarf man. As he made his way on the soft thin layer of the snow, he lost his footing as his right leg suddenly plunged through the snowy blanket. 

Losing his balance, the box slipped from his hands, the contents fell out, and the trash showered onto himself and scattered onto the snow. 

"Hey! What's wrong with you?! All our hard work of sweeping the floor has gone down the drain!" spat the green-scarf man. 

"Aw man, we have to clear this up?! I'm not doing that, I'm already dying from fatigue." the teenager said. 

The short man mumbled something before dusting himself and trying to pick the rubbish up hastily. Declan leaned on the wall of a shop and watched them bickering about something. Why did he sign up to be a knight again? Oh, right he remembered. It was his dream years ago when he was a child…

*

"Brother Declan!"Monica exclaimed," Have you seen the knights duelling yesterday? They're so cool! "

Monica was 8 then. 

"Yes, I've seen. They’re pretty cool, ” Declan said absent-mindedly as he rolled the dough with all his might. He’s a thin boy, to begin with.

And Declan was 11 then.

“I want to be a knight, just like them!” Monica said.

“Oh, that’s…wait what? You’re a girl! They won’t allow you!” Declan put his rolling pin away and placed his hands on his hips.

“So? I’ll just show them that I am as capable as the other knights, or even more skilled and braver than them! There, problem solved!” Monica grinned triumphantly.

“But Monica, if you ever become a dame, then the knights will bully you. You will feel lonely too!”

“Brother, you worry too much. I’ll prove to them that I have what it takes to be a dame and I’ll fit in once they realised I’m the same as them! You’ll see! When I grow up, I am going to be a fine dame.”

“If you say so,” Declan said, but he was still worried. There would be a high chance of his sister being picked on. What can he do to prevent that?

As he washed his hands outside of the house, he heard a loud barking ahead. He lift his eyes and saw a larger dog barking at a similar size dog while protecting a puppy. 

That’s right. I can protect my sister by becoming a knight. I can protect my family too! And if ever she gets lonely when she becomes a dame, I can accompany her.

*

Sometimes, Declan wondered why Monica was glad being the Queen’s maidservant. Maybe the war had changed her? She seemed to act really differently after the war. It was as if the war had snatched away her prior bubbliness and in return, gave her sarcasm. It was fine though, Monica will forever be his little sister and if ever she needed help, Declan will be the first to be there.

However, Monica seemed like she could manage her life just fine. Now, the only thing that Declan worried about was Monica’s participation in this whole legalisation-of-magic situation. It was not that he did not support the Queen’s movement, he understood that it was a necessity for both magic and non-magic citizens to work together peacefully to ensure the progress of the kingdom, but rather he was afraid that some people might harass and harm Monica because of her support in this cause.

He looked at the trio’s heated argument wearily.  

Like those guys, he thought.

Then, as if a miracle happened, the food scraps, dirt, wooden splints and paper bits on the floor starts floating in the air and deposited themselves into the wooden box. 

Before the "miracle" was completed, Declan felt someone’s presence beside him and so he turned to look.

The first thing he noticed was the golden flecks that shone brightly in his eyes. It was mysteriously hidden behind the strands of pale blond hair that glowed under the lamp. They almost resembled the soft snow draped on the roofs. Then the molten gold in his eyes vanished all of sudden as he turned and smiled.

“That’ll do right?”

“Yeah…thanks,” Declan replied, a little bewildered by what just happened. He knew it was magic, but this was his first time seeing it up close.

“No problem! I’ll be off then, have a good night sir.”

“W-wait!Can you, um show me … magic again? If it doesn’t trouble you,” Declan said.

The platinum blond paused for a while and he said, “Sure, but I’m a little rusty though, so please forgive me if I messed up.”

Then he proceeded to cast a spell and his eyes flashed gold once again. The snowflakes under the lamp started swirling about until they formed a dove; it flapped its wings and flew around the caster before landing on Declan’s shoulder. Then it simply dissipated. 

The caster's eyes returned back to their original baby blue colour and they shone with unspoken joy.

“That- that was beautiful. Thank you,” Declan smiled in awe.

A faint pink suffused across the blond, “ This is the first time I’ve received a compliment on my magical abilities… I- Thank you!”

“Hahaha, it’s my first time seeing magic up close too! I am truly fascinated by your magic.”

The blond's eyes averted to the ground as his face turned redder. Then he jerked back up as if remembering something important and said, “I better get going. My mum might get worried about my whereabouts. Goodbye!”

“Bye!”Declan waved until the last bit of silky blond hair faded into the shadow.

“Mr distracted, we’re going to move on without you if you’re planning to stand there forever.” The short man said as he carried the box firmly to his chest. 

“Okay, I’m coming, “ he sighed as he followed the trio.

The sweeping team was silent at first, and the howling wind seemed to be the only active participant in a non-existent conversation. However, Short Man broke the silence.

“Magic huh, pretty convenient tool.”

“Do you think that people who have magic will have an edge over us?” Teenager asked.

“Of course! They have something we don’t.” Green-Scarf Man said.

“Well, all the more for us to better ourselves, don’t you agree?” Declan said from behind.

“Yeah, we really have to improve on our current skills instead of being complacent,” Teenager said.

“Geez, I still remember the hard work I put in to learn something last time. But after I’d finally grasped it, it felt so rewarding. I don’t mind doing it again.” Scarf Man said.

As Scarf Man and Teenager started to sweep the floor again, Short Man placed the box onto the floor and warmed his hands with his breath.

“That lad you’re talking too, he’s the one who helped me with magic right?” Short Man asked.

“Yes,” Declan replied.

“Ha, the person I received help from for the first time is a sorcerer. Never in my life would I think that a sorcerer would help me. Somehow, I always picture them as someone who used magic to their advantage. I’d never thought magic can be used to help someone.”

“You might not be wrong. There are some who used magic to attain their selfish desires. But selfishness cannot be found in magic; It can only be found in the heart of mankind. It is our choice to let this beast loose, or slay it.” Declan said.

The short man gazed at the box, downcast. 

Then, as if something awoke within him, he begin to search for rubbish on the streets and collect it. Usually, he would wait for the other two to sweep the rubbish for him and only then would he throw the rubbish into the box. But this time, he went to search for some rubbish of his own accord.

The sweeping process sped up with the help of an additional pair of hands and before midnight, they had managed to clean the sordid streets and discard the waste away.

When they finished throwing the rubbish, Declan asked them to stay for a while as he have something to say. 

“You can curse me behind my back for all I care but if  I ever hear you cursing the Queen again, I’ll have to report to the queen about your disrespectful attitude and you might receive another punishment more tedious than this. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes sir!”

“Alright, you’re dismissed.”

The trio did a fist-bumped or something to congratulate each other on the completion of today’s task before parting ways. They somehow dragged Declan into doing their fist-bump too. 

“One day down, thirteen days of sweeping left to do!” the trio shouted in unison.

For some reason, Declan did not mind supervising them anymore. He might even be a little excited.

Chapter Text

In the midst of the howling gale that whistled through the endless darkness, was muffled laughter accompanied with music from a fuzzy glow in the distance. As one approached the source of light, the music grew and the icy clasp of winter soon melted once one stepped into the building.

“To our last day being street sweepers!” 

Glass clinked together as they were raised.

The music in the background dwindled and the men in the tavern cheered. 

“En-core!En-core!” The customers and even the bartender urged.

“Again? It’s already been played three times!”

All eyes turned to the green-scarf man, glaring.

“Gio, I’ve told you to be tactful-” Short Man said as he turned towards the audience, apologizing for his friend’s bluntness. The audience's gaze then shifted towards the music band again. The band’s leader, trying to diffuse the prior tension, said, “How about we play the latest piece that my band came up with?”

The audience's interest was sparked and the boisterous, lively atmosphere returned within seconds. The leader smiled and immediately grabbed his gittern. The crowd waited in anticipation as the band members readied themselves. The tin whistle came in first, playing a short melody before the singer joined in and the rest of the musical instruments played concurrently, bringing out the vibrancy in their music once more.

 Everyone was immersed in their music; They swung their hands about, their feet tapped to the rhythm, and they clapped along when it came to the instrumental part where the leader’s fingers ran across the fretboard gracefully, creating an upbeat, fast-paced tune. All of them, including Gio, were enchanted by the music, all except a certain troubled young man. His arm supported his heavy head as he slouched towards the table. He frowned, his mind completely away from music.

As the splendid performance ended, Gio jumped out of his chair and applaud, together with the entire tavern. 

“Bravo! That was great!”

“It is! That chick’s voice is absolutely mesmerizing, she makes my heart shudder,” the teenager, Tye said.

“You’re totally swooning over her, young lad! HAHAHA! Who could have known you like ginger-hair maiden!” Gio patted Tye’s shoulder.

Meanwhile, Sam, the short man, sat down beside Declan, “It’s about that lad Noel, right?”

Declan muttered something intelligible as he gulp down another mouthful of ale and nodded. 

“Ah, talking about Noel, you better ask that singer what’s her name before she left, Tye. Don’t learn from Declan, who’ve forgotten to ask for Noel’s name until their 4th encounter HAHAHA! Goodness, that was so hilarious, he was so nervous about whether they could meet again,” Gio cracked up into laughter as Tye nodded slowly while he stole a glance at Declan.

Declan wasn’t at his normally organised, slightly humorous state. He looked like a very different person now with his once neatly combed hair scattered across his forehead and his blurry eyes no longer as sharp as usual. A drunk, basically. 

“Damn it, I -hic-, want to see-hic- him again…,” Declan said.

“What’s stopping you?” Gio said as he plonked onto the seat.

“I have night shift!”

“Oh, that sucks,” Tye said.

“Why don’t you meet in the morning?”Sam proposed.

“Well-hic-that’ll look really-hic-intentional. Like, it’ll be really embarrassing…”

“Declan, you want to see him again, don’t you? Then you’ll have to work up the courage to approach him! Quit moping around here and plan what to do so that you can meet him again more frequently,” Gio said.

“Ugh…where to begin with,” Declan grumbled.

“Oh, I know! Isn’t there a celebration about welcoming magic back to Camelot tomorrow? I am sure Noel will be there,” Tye said.

“Yeah, about that…I am exempted from my job-hic-tomorrow, so I guess I can …talk to him.”

“All the best mate,” Sam said.

“If you need help, you can come to find us!”Gio said.

“We’ll be rooting for you!” Tye exclaimed.

“Thanks guys, really-hic-appreciate-hic-it.”

*

…merlin…

“MERLIN, DO you need a PRINCE to kiss you so that YOU can WAKE UP!?”

Merlin shot up from his bed and turned his head sharply to the window. The morning sun rose higher than usual.

“Oh shit–”

Stumbling out of bed, he scrambled for his daily-used bag, sling it over his shoulder and rushed down the stairs.

“Merlin–”

“Uh-Sorry Gaius, I’ll skip breakfast.”

“Merlin-”

“Gaius, I-”

“Merlin! Will you let me finish my sentence,” Gaius said.

Merlin's frantic actions paused and looked at Gaius with lost eyes as if he is still recovering from what was happening.

“Merlin, dear boy, are you going out with that on?” Gaius said exasperatedly with a tinge of humour in his sentence.

Merlin's eyes darted downwards and his face reddened like the cherry tomato on the plates.

“I-I’ll be back,” Merlin said as he dropped his bag and bolted to his room to change.

After a minute or so, Merlin was back with his robes worn sloppily and picked up his bag. As he was about to say something to Gaius, a slice of bread was stuffed into his mouth and a pair of wrinkled hands tidied Merlin’s robes. 

“There, much better. It is such a well-designed robe, if the designer found out that you wore it like that, she’ll murder you, that’s for sure.”

Just when Merlin wanted to protest, Gaius turned merlin towards the door and pushed him out.

“Go on! You are going to be late!”

“MhmpH!”Merlin made a sound with his mouth stuffed with bread and ran straight away.

That morning was mostly filled with organisation and preparation for the magic celebration at night. Things were pretty hectic, especially in the kitchen where the cook and her helpers whipped up different cuisines. The streamers across the streets were decorated with magic so it was much more effective as compared to doing it manually. Merlin also had to recite his speech. It was his first time and truth to be told, he was rather nervous, but he was the Court Magician, representing the entire magic community in Camelot, he cannot back out.

Well, at least there was still time before evening arrived.

Evening came and he still was not confident with the entire speech.

He paced about the room, images of leaders flashed before him, how do they deliver a speech so confidently, as if they had the innate ability to move the hearts of many?

Stone, Excalibur, crowd…Arthur. 

Arthur.

How would he recite a speech? In front of many, he acknowledged the emotions of his people, he rekindle their dying hope, and he band the people together by giving them a common goal. That was probably what speech is supposed to do.

But the firm, calm aura that Arthur exudes, Merlin simply could not emulate.

Merlin collapsed onto a chair nearby as he sighed.

Arthur, a man who he dedicated his magic to. He was now gone from his world. Does he still have a reason to use magic? Would Camelot really be a better place if magic was legalised? He did not know.

“Merlin! Get ready, you’ll be needed—Merlin, are you alright?”Gwen asked tentatively as she walked towards merlin.

“I don’t know how to recite an inspiring speech, and I’m rather nervous right now.”

Gwen broke into a smile as she shook her head affectionately.

“Merlin, all you have to do when you recite your speech is to say it from your heart. Your sincerity would move people. That’s all there is to it.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I’m certain. Now get up, you have a speech to deliver.”

As soon as merlin stood on the platform, he could see the people of Camelot gathered around him, all waiting for him to begin.

Magic, what was it like to him? Fascination, fear, and protection for his loved ones. He said all of those while using his magic to help the people visualised his perspective of magic. A butterfly produced from his palm took flight and its luminous blue wings fluttered over the audience, leaving the audience in awe with such a beautiful display of magic. The audience lived vicariously through Merlin’s past as he proceeded with the story. Then, he ended with his deepest wish of what Camelot with magic can achieve– peace between the magical and non-magical people.

There was a pause, and then thunderous applause followed. 

Merlin beamed as he bowed to thank the audience. He was happy but emotionally drained too. After his speech, he excused himself from the celebration and left. He knew that the celebration would be fun and that a popular music band would be invited to play, but he just could not bring himself to celebrate and be joyous. He was glad that magic is finally legal in Camelot, but to him, his magic no longer existed for the reason to use his magic had disappeared with him, away in that idle boat into the lake of Avalon.

Merlin found himself walking in the woods, amongst tall trees that stretched towards the sky, trying to reach something that is far to grasp. The myriads of emotions in his chest weighed down like lead on his heart, compressing it, leaving merlin to gasp for air. Breathe, he needed to breathe.

Merlin fell onto the floor and leaned his back against the trunk of a tree. The sound of his urgent breath calmed down as the crickets chirped rhythmically. His breath soon faded into the rustling of trees and the silence of the night. The moon was a constant partner in his adventures with Arthur, this made Merlin feel comforted. It almost felt like spending some time with an old friend.

“Hey, you doing fine there?” A voice from a distance echoed.

Actually, it was rather near, just three feet away.

Merlin tore his gaze from the moon and looked at the person in front of him.

He had distinctive wavy hair, a relaxed smile and eyes that were full of mirth, and as soon as the rays of the moon fell upon that man, merlin gaped.

“Gwaine?”

Chapter Text

Merlin was beyond belief at what was before his eyes.

How? How was it possible?

“Dude, you look like a ghost!” Gwaine commented as he squatted down to have a better look at Merlin.

Merlin indeed looked like a ghost. Pale under the moon, his face emphasized by the slightly dark swellings under his fatigued eyes, his body seemingly flimsy.

“Aren’t you supposedly the ghost? How are you still alive?”

Gwaine sighed as he sat onto the freezing blanket of snow, which provided no comfort for him at all, only a freezing sensation that spiked up his sore legs.

“Long story short, I was saved by the druids after I was bitten by the Nathair and kept in ‘captive’ in hopes that I can persuade Guinevere to legalise magic in Camelot if it remains banned after some time.”

“But isn’t the poison of Nathair deadly? It’ll kill you within a minute!”

“Well,” Gwaine smirked, “that’s for common folks like me who don’t have magic. The druids slow down the speed of the poison reaching the vital parts of my body like my heart and extract it while ensuring that I can still breathe. Amazing right?”

“Oh,” Merlin’s tensed shoulders fell forward and his head drooped down. He thought that maybe there was someone stronger than him out there, and that he could find that someone to somehow bring Arthur back to life, without the use of dark magic. Apparently, no one is stronger than Emrys and even the strongest person failed pathetically to save the person he cared most, ha.

“So, I heard that a party was going on…”

Gwaine looked at Merlin in anticipation, as if waiting for Merlin to lead him there.

Merlin at this point could not care less and muttered, “Follow me.”

As they left the shelter of the dark foliage and approached the cluster of light, Gwaine could not help but disrupt the silence.

“Aren’t you interested in how I know that there’s a celebration?”

Merlin shrugged nonchalantly.

“Since the war, the druids have sneaked into Camelot and observed the situation there! Thrilling yet risky, eh? Reminds me of the adventures we once had with Arthur.”

The last word had Merlin's slump posture stiffened for a moment, before relaxing once more.

“Oh, that explains where the strong magic in Camelot is coming from,” Merlin said.

“Didn’t know Magic can be sensed,” Gwaine raised an eyebrow as the surrounding noise grew.

And then, Gwaine continued to prattle on and on as if trying to fill all the void between them. At least that remained the same, Merlin thought as he stared ahead blankly.

Then, Merlin felt an intense gaze that pierced right past him and onto the taller man on his right.

“Gwaine?”

At the sound of his name in an all-too-familiar voice, Gwaine perked up. “Percival! Ah, I miss…”

Without Gwaine finishing his sentence, a well-built man was found in the arms of Gwaine, almost tipping him over.

“Still keeping fit eh?”Gwaine smirked as he eyed sturdy arms wrapped with muscles and patted his back.

“You’re back…you’re really here!” Percival whispered in disbelief.

“Yeah, yeah.Alive and kicking. The druids make sure of that,” Gwaine nodded as he pulled apart from the embrace.

Leon, who heard Gwaine’s name being mentioned from afar, also rushed to the scene, along with Gwen and Morgana.

“YOU’RE ALIVE!”said Leon, barely containing his excitement.

“Sure am!” Gwaine winked as he turned to Gwen and bowed.

“Your Majesty, beautiful as ever I see.”

“Ever the flirt, I see,”Gwen rolled her eyes playfully as she said, “Welcome home.”Gwaine smiled and thanked her.

“Alright,shall we keep the party going? I heard that there’s good ale here!”

The group of old friends laughed heartily, bright and cheery, but they are all faraway echoes to Merlin. 

“Merlin, you okay?”

Merlin lifted his blank gaze to meet a pair of concern brown eyes. It was Gwen’s. 

“Yeah, just exhausted. I’ll just head home and rest.”

Gwen’s mouth hang slightly ajar as if wanting to say something but decided against it.

“Okay, goodnight Merlin.”

“Thanks. You too.”

Meanwhile, another man also excused himself from his friends. His neatly combed hair was slightly messed up as he combed past the crowd in search of someone special. As he weaved past millions of faces, he could not find that particular face. That person’s trademark, soft strands of silver as hair, was nowhere to be found. 

“Why isn’t he here…” Declan sighed as he scanned the throng of people again.

 Tonight’s celebration was marked as a milestone for the sorcery community. I am positive he would want to partake in it; besides, he did share his excitement when the celebration was first announced. Did something happen? Is he alright?

Declan came up with several reasons but decided that he might just be overthinking. Suddenly, he was not in the mood to linger among the boisterous crowds. Somehow it didn’t feel festive when he was not around.

So, he parted from the crowd.

The rowdy and high-spirited atmosphere dimmed into cool peaceful roads uninhabited by anyone. Shades of blue casted on the buildings contrasted with the moonlit white of the snow, a welcoming change from the centre of Camelot blazing with lights. Declan walked down the streets of Camelot, vigilantly. He eyed the dark alleys warily whenever he walked past them, worrying that the ‘anti-sorcerers' society might still target sorcerers and that Noel might be their next victim. However the longer he spent searching for any signs of Noel, the more ridiculous he found himself to be. Usually, if someone’s missing on an occasion, then he must have his own reason, and that is that. He would just leave it be. But right now, he could not even fathom this sudden surge of anxiousness and the irrational behaviour that resulted from it. He stopped in his tracks as he gazed up at the moon. What in the world had happened to him? Magic?

 A chuckle nearby brought him back to reality. Startled, he shifted his sight towards its source. 

“My goodness, you look like a lovesick poet hahaha!”

A platinum blond laughed while leaning at the side of the door frame, light cascading onto his hair.

“Noel,” Dylan whispered.

“Come in! Unless you want to continue goggling at the moon,” Noel tilted his head towards the inside of the house and smiled.

Dylan seemed to become mute all of a sudden and obediently entered the cosy house. The door was shut behind him by Noel and the warmth of the house started to envelope him, as if welcoming him. 

“Give me a moment, I need to give my mother something. Meanwhile, make yourself at home,” he said as he put the trug at the counter, picked something out and proceeded upstairs. As soon as Noel left, Dylan paced slowly as his eyes drift from the low, cobwebbed ceiling to the rows of labelled jars lined up beside each other on a huge shelf. There were more shelves to his left and a worktable with pieces of equipment laid around carelessly, a stark contrast to the organised bottles on the shelves behind it. Dylan walked over to the worktable to have a better look at the interesting apparatus on it. There was a mortar and a pestle with herbs that were not yet ground well, there was a copper weighing scale with green powder on one scale, and then there was a small thick book at the far right of the worktable.

“Encyclopedia… of Herbs,” Dylan squinted as he read the book's title. The squiggly words in the title were something like six-year-old handwriting. As Dylan was about to pick up the book, a voice rang, “Do you… wanna read it?”

Dylan turned his head towards the flight of stairs where Noel was descending and smiled.

“Yeah.”

“Sure! We can read it at the work table… just let me tidy up the table first,” Noel said, sheepishly, “I left in a hurry today.”

“Need any help?”

“Not really, I’m almost done. But thanks,” Noel beamed as he swept the remaining powder on the weighing scale into the bottle and closed it with a cork. Dylan watched Noel’s busy figure as he leaned on the wall with folded arms. Noel seemed quite anxious, and… a little uneasy? He scurried from one end of the table to another, grabbing a handful of vials to put away in the drawers at the bottom of the shelves, only to realise that they were all uncapped. Then he rushed back to the work table and capped it one by one clumsily. Once he had done so, he carried the vials to the already opened drawer but accidentally knocked off a bottle perching precariously on the edge of the work table.

Noel turned back in horror. His hands were full. He watched it fall, in despair.

Just then, something swooped past Noel, and then the next thing he knew the bottle was miraculously back on the shelf.

“How-” Noel’s brain was still trying to catch up with what had happened.

“Great reflexes, my special ability,” Dylan said humorously,“Don’t you have magic or something?”

“Oh yeah, I do,” Noel said, and as if some switch in him had been flipped back on, he returned to his anxious state. 

“Thanks for helping me just now,” Noel said as he walked forward absentmindedly, his feet hitting something hard. He looked down at the open drawer, grimacing as his body started to lean forward. Losing his balance, the vials flew out of his arms. 

Not. The. Vials!

Noel exclaimed a spell, enabling the vials to float but was not fast enough to cast one that prevented him from hitting the ground. As his face was about to meet the ground, an arm wrapped around Noel’s waist securely and tugged him backwards, causing Noel to stagger backwards. 

That was a close call.

Then, he looked down and thought, “What a nice hand that is.”  

Noel’s back stiffened, and his cheeks flushed red as he turned his head to the side and said, “I’m fine. You can let go of me now.”

And then the hand beautifully sculpted with veins left and Noel took a moment to breathe in deeply. 

“Get yourself together,” Noel muttered.

Then he went to collect the vials floating in the air store them in the drawer and shut it quickly.

“All right, I think we could read that book now,” Noel said as he went to pick up the tattered book. 

Declan sat on the wooden stool near the work table and gazed at Noel as he walked towards him. Noel gave an embarrassed grin at him and then he sat down by him with the book in between them. A moment of silence hung around them. Then Noel began to flip open the book. 

“It’s a book I had when I was young…” Noel said softly as he went to turn over the next page, “These are the entries I have written on plants and herbs I have collected since I was nine.”

“That’s… rather impressive,” Declan said as his eyes shifted from one neatly drawn diagram of a plant to another. He was amazed at how Noel could write paragraph after paragraph of observations and knowledge orderly at such a young age. There were pressed flora glued onto the yellow pages as well. Then, he thought he spotted something odd. 

A specimen that was stuck onto the unusually wrinkled page seemed unnatural. The flower doesn’t seem complete in the sense that there should be another part to it, but it’s not there. The stalk is too thin as if it has been sliced into half. There was also a sharp bent towards the end of the stem. Drooping at the edge of the stem was a dried-up flower with white along the edge of the petals and pink concentrated on the inside of it.

But he quickly shrugged it off. He was no expert in plants anyway. So, he went to flip the next page.

Unbeknownst to him, Noel had been observing Declan intently when he looked at the strange flower. No reaction was observed from Declan. He seemed to be reading that page the same way as he read the entire book so far. It was nothing special.

Noel averted his eyes away from Declan and looked at his slightly clenched fists. A subtle but overwhelming fear came creeping into him. 

“Hey, are you alright?”

Noel started, “Y-yeah, I’m good.”

He was in fact not. Noel tried to maintain his composure as he looked directly past Declan. He did not dare look into his eyes.

“You sure…” Declan was about to reach Noel’s shoulder when Noel jerked backwards, almost toppling off his seat.

“Sorry…”Noel mumbled.

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t touch you without your permission.”

Whatever Declan had said, he only heard it partially. His mind was preoccupied by something else at that moment.

Declan could tell the mood in the room had changed into something a bit uncomfortable. He stood up slowly from his chair and took some steps back so that Noel could have his personal space back. 

“I’ll be leaving now, thanks for having me over to your house.”

Noel just stood there nodding slowly. He stared hard at the book, refusing to meet Declan’s eyes.

As Declan approached the door, his feet got heavier with each step. He could not fathom what had gone wrong. It was all going well in the beginning, so what happened? As Declan was about to leave, he took one last glance at Noel. Noel’s eyes were still on the book, his hands clenched the hem of his clothes on his thigh and he frowned. Declan sighed and whispered, “Goodnight.”

Then he left, an uneasy feeling whirling in his chest.

Chapter Text

“You’re back early,” Gaius said as he lifted his eyes from a book he was reading.

“Oh, uh yeah,” Merlin said.

“Are you not going to celebrate with your friends? This is a big milestone for the magic community.”

Merlin shrugged as he slumped into a chair and drank a glass of water. Then his eyes travelled to the window, and the moon. That stupid moon. The same fucking moon that had witnessed his journey with Arthur and is still there, existing. Merlin frowned as he tore his gaze away from the windows and looked at his hands. They trembled. He used to… he was holding Arthur alive and warm for a moment, and in the next second, it’s…

Cold.

Gaius watched Merlin silently at the corners of his eyes. Days after days after days, Gaius hoped that Merlin would move on after he mourned. He wished that boy could return smiling again. He wished the young lad would not be too harsh on himself…but things only got worse.

Giaus let out a sigh. Something must be done about this.

“Merlin, he is not coming back.”

Merlin’s back tensed up, his hands clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

“I don’t believe you,” Merlin said in a quiet, quivering voice.

“Merlin Arthur is–”

“HE’LL BE BACK!” Merlin shot up from his chair, glaring at Gaius with ferocity and a hint of fear behind his eyes. “Why does everyone have so little faith in his return?! When Albion’s need is greatest, Arthur will rise again. Kilgharrah said so! So why can’t you just wait…”

Gaius looked at Merlin, right in the eye. He took a deep breath and said, “Merlin, if you’re going to be the most powerful sorcerer on Earth, you might outlive all of us. You have to come to terms with our deaths healthily. You-

“Shut up!” Merlin hollered back. Then, he took a few steps back in shock at the way he responded.

“I didn’t want this fate. This magic is like a shackle…It’s a curse. If I can’t even save him with my magic, then what is it for?!”

“Merlin, it’s not your fault.”

Merlin’s whole body was quaking now, and he shook his head despairingly. It was too much all at once. He needed to leave. Now. He burst out of the house, swinging the door open and never turning back. Gaius watched him sprint for his life, standing helplessly by the door of his small house. He had neither the strength nor the urge to chase after him. He just…stood alone in silence.

Then he felt a searing pain in his chest and clutched the fabrics around it. His throat constricted and he coughed hard as he leaned forward. The white pure snow under him was now stained red. It’s happening more frequently, Gaius thought. Then he shook his head in resignation and chuckled softly.

“Merlin… I can’t…take care of you…for much longer. Please, grow up,” he said with difficulty as he gasped for air and wheezed.
No one replied. Gaius could only hope that the howling gale would do the chasing for him and deliver the message.

-

Merlin tore through the forest. Panting, running, his heart pumping harder than ever. He felt his lungs burning but he wanted to run. He wanted to run away from all his fears, all his sorrows and everyone. It was too much. Then he tripped over a root protruding out of the ground and tumbled down. After rolling down the fresh snow, Merlin lay there. All the raging emotions could not compare to the piercing silence of winter. He gave up. He didn’t want to do anything anymore. He didn’t want to feel anything anymore. Sometimes he wondered, would it all be better if he was something else other than a living being; for example, the moon?

“How nice…how lucky you are, moon,” he muttered as he lay there, letting the chilliness embrace him.

So for a few minutes, Merlin looked at the moon. He found comfort in it, yet he hated it and envied it.

Then a faint tune can be heard. It was calming, and soothing, a stark contrast to the deafening silence and sharp howls of winter. Merlin smiled a little for the first time as he allowed himself to soak in the wonderful tune. He wanted to feel the rise of every note, the way it floats in the air. He had forgotten what peace felt like for ages, and now that he had found it, he wanted to revel in it for as long as he could.

Slowly, he rose from the snowy bed and curiously followed the tune. He wanted to see who was playing the gittern. As he approached the source of music step by step, it was revealed to him that a guy sitting on the log was playing the gittern and he was pretty relaxed while doing so. His fingers seemed to know where to go on their own as the owner paid no heed to them and swayed a little along with the flickering flame in his lantern.

The music suddenly stopped as the gittern player felt someone standing behind him. He turned around and his eyes widened.

“Merlin! It has been a while!”

Merlin paused and he immediately recognised the gittern player.

“Gilli…” He said, “Why are you here?”

“Why don’t you take a seat,” He patted the area beside him.

Merlin sat down on the log slowly, “So…why did you come to Camelot?”

“Oh! My band was invited to play for the magical festival, and before that, we also performed at some tavern around here,” Gilli said casually as he placed his gittern to his right.

“I see. You’re the popular music band that everyone’s looking forward to,” Merlin nodded.

“Woah, you’ve changed. What happened to your…liveliness?”

Merlin shrugged, “Dead, I guessed.”

“Dead?”

Merlin nodded silently as he slouched forward, letting his eyes get lost in the maze of tall, broad trunks that stood out from the snowy white canvas.

“Are you…alright?” Gilli watched Merlin’s pale face weighed down with despair.

“Gilli, I don’t want to feel anything anymore. I think I’m growing numb.”

Gilli studied Merlin and noticed the airiness in his voice, the fatigue in his eyes, and the abnormally thin frame he now had. Gilli was certain, Merlin definitely went through something terrible. All these signs reminded him of the time he had just lost his father in an unknown attack. He remembered how depression, anger and guilt would consume him every day, and he felt so tormented by them.

“Merlin,” Gilli placed his hand on Merlin’s shoulder, “Did you lose someone close to you?”

Merlin's hands gripped the log tightly and shuddered. Then very slowly, he nodded his head and whispered, his voice almost cracking, “Y-yeah, I did.”

Gilli sighed softly and asked again, “How long?”

Merlin's eyes were slightly wet now as he muttered, “Five months.”

Gilli inhaled a deep breath and said, “You missed him, don’t you?”

Merlin nodded his head fervently and tried not to choke on his words, “Yeah, I do.”

Gilli then shifted his gaze from Merlin and looked at the Gittern at his side.

“Do you know, what songs are for?” Gilli asked.

Merlin’s eyes widened a bit as he was confused as to why Gilli would ask this.

“No,” Merlin admitted softly.

“Songs,” Gilli said as he grabbed his Gittern, “are made to capture the emotions of something or someone and share it with others. But also…”

He looked at Merlin intently.

“They keep memories alive forever.”

Merlin felt goosebumps all over when he heard that line.

“When you sing a song or play a tune, it reminds you of a certain feeling or a certain memory... or,” he paused, “a certain person.”

Merlin felt his breath hitched for a moment.

“So, you know, when you feel lonely or reminisce about the times you spent with someone who is gone, you can play a tune and sing a song. That way, you feel like the person is just right next to you, listening,” Gilli said as he gave Merlin a reassuring smile. Merlin just sat quietly as he digested all that Gilli said.

Then, Gilli sighed and continued, “However, the best way to keep the person alive is to keep his or her legacy alive. Do what the person would do; protect and carry on the values and achievements the person had done. And finding passion while making the world a better place would be a great way to honour that person. I’m sure he or she would like to see you doing well and not be weighed down by their death.”

Merlin gulped as he nodded slowly. Then he hesitated for a moment before saying, “Gilli, I’m sure Arthur will return. The dragon said so that he’ll come back will Albion needs him the most.”

“So you don’t think he’s dead”

Merlin straightened his posture and looked at Gilli earnestly, “Yes.”

Gilli blinked a few times as he was surprised by Merlin’s firm answer. He took a while to register Merlin’s response and said, “Well, in the world of Magic, almost anything is possible. So maybe that dragon is right.”

Now Merlin was the one who was surprised. He had prepared that Gilli would retort back, he expected him to think he was delusional for it, because that was what everyone was telling him. He did not predict that Gilli might consider what he said to be true.

“So Merlin, while you hold on to that belief that Arthur will come back, why don’t you carry out his legacy first and lead a fulfilling life? Improve yourself so that when he is back, you will be able to be a better man and guide him in a world that is new to him.”

Merlin felt like something was stirring to life within him. The bleak indifference was fading and he could hear sounds like his heartbeat, the rustling of leaves, the crunching of snow under his feet. His hollow eyes now had a spark of hope. He had something to work towards now.

“Do you really think I should work towards a better future for Arthur when he returns?”

Gilli heard a trace of excitement in his voice and sighed while smiling. Then he said, “Yes. Besides, Arthur would not want you moping around and dwelling in all that negativity just because he is gone.”

There was a small smile tugging on Merlin’s lips as he imagined Arthur rolling his eyes and sighing if Arthur saw his state. Maybe Arthur would call him an idiot or a wimp.

Gilli noticed his smile and found himself grinning a bit too. Merlin seemed to be looking more like a living person now.

“Merlin?”

Merlin snapped out of it and said, “Yeah?”

“We, humans have a short life. So, instead of excessively grieving over someone, I would recommend you to spend more time with your loved ones who are still alive,” Gilli said seriously.

Merlin took in what Gilli said and let his advice sink in. There was a certain truth to it and Merlin knew that…but he just missed Arthur so much. Arthur was like an integral part of his life, of his identity.

“What do I do… when I miss Arthur then?”

Gilli gestured to his Gittern and said, “Well, I’ve already said this but you can create songs and music that remind you of him or the memories you two shared.”

Merlin's eyes lowered down from Gilli’s face to the gittern in his hand. He wanted to do just that, but he had not played any sort of musical instrument before.

“Do you want to give it a try?”

Gilli held the neck of the gittern and pointed it towards Merlin as he waited patiently for his answer.

“Yeah, I do,” Merlin smiled as he carefully received the gittern. His fingers curled cautiously onto the neck of the gittern as his fingertips came in contact with the cool gut strings. He used his right hand to pluck the strings gently and a warm note was emitted.

The sound felt like a wild rabbit bouncing from one trunk to another before it disappeared.

“When you press the fret with a left hand on the same string you pluck, you get a different sound. Try it.”

Curious, Merlin added pressure to the string at the very first fret and plucked the same string again. This time, the pitch was higher. Merlin tried pressing the string at the second fret, and then the third fret. The pitch increased as he did so and so was Merlin’s wonder.

It’s like the first time he learnt magic.

Is magic that horrible? Why doesn’t he use magic again for good, in Arthur's name? Then, he would not have to part magic from Arthur, as the whole purpose of why he used magic is for Arthur.

“Hey, I think I might like magic again…and this…” Merlin whispered.

Gilli chuckled as he watched Merlin play the different strings and experiment with various sounds with child-like fascination.

“If you want, I can give you classes at half price,” Gilli smiled.

“No need, I will pay full price. When do we start and how many classes do I need to pay for?” Merlin asked eagerly.

“Well, I’m staying here for about a month so I recommend eight classes, two classes per week. How does that sound?”

“Great!” Merlin said, “Can we start tomorrow?”

“Sure thing, we’ll meet at eight in the morning at the market square yeah?”

Merlin nodded, “Yeah, see you!”

“See you there too,” Gilli laughed softly, sensing Merlin’s elation in the springs of his steps as he headed home.

Gilli decided that it was quite late, and he too, ambled out of the forest. It was a pleasant surprise to meet Merlin again after so long. He recalled the last time they met and how Merlin still looked forward to meeting him again, even though he had used magic dishonourably due to his pride back then.

Gilli shook his head in mirth as he also remembered Merlin saying that one day, magic would be permitted in Camelot again and when that day came, they would be recognised for their gifts. He thought that would only exist as a distant dream, but Merlin made it happen.

“I’m glad I can do something for you, Merlin,” Gilli whispered as the winter gale howled by.

That night, Merlin fell asleep with a smile plastered on his face, something that had never happened since Arthur died.

Even the rattling of the winter gale on the window could not disturb Merlin’s peaceful slumber.

Chapter Text

Morgana has been observing the things going around the castle, as usual. It has been a few weeks after the huge magic celebration and since then, the leader of a popular band has been visiting Merlin’s room and musical notes has been filling the castle’s walls. The entire mood around Merlin’s room had somewhat lifted as he seemed more alive, the spark in his eyes returning. However, it looked like the plague of anxiety and worry didn’t go away but rather haunted a knight who stood alone in the cold night, watching out for any intruders with discipline. But, if you peered closer, you could see a hint of distraction lingering in his eyes. Morgana noticed that this was not a one-off thing and grew more concerned. With a sigh, she approached the knight.

“Hey Declan, what’s up?”

The knight turned upon hearing an all-so-familiar voice, “Monica. Hey. Nothing much.”

“Mhm, terrible. Who taught you to lie so badly?” Monica teased.

Declan chuckled as he sighed, knowing that he could never hide anything from his sister. 

“Alright, you got me,” Declan admitted, “I’ve something on my mind.”

Morgana nodded and crossed her arms, waiting for Declan to elaborate further. Declan took in a deep breath as he said in a defeated tone, “I don’t know where I went wrong! One moment my cr– my friend was happy and a little anxious when he let me see a book, and then the next he started to avoid me and he seemed quite scared. You got to help me because I can’t figure out what triggered that reaction for weeks Mon.”

Morgana listened attentively, and she sensed the rising frustration and hopelessness in her brother’s tone. With her eyes lifted to meet Declan’s gaze, she said calmly, “Alright, tell me what happened from the beginning.”

 As she listened to Declan recount, she nodded, and the cogs in her head started to spin as she pieced together the details. When Declan was done, he ran his hand through his hair as bewilderment hung on his brows.

Monica took a little while to think through it all again before she asked, “You said he seemed pretty anxious and restless as soon as you mentioned the book where Noel would document all the plant species, right?

Declan nodded slowly, “Yeah, it seemed that way.”

“So before that, he was rather at ease and calm?”

Declan paused as he frowned while recalling, “Yeah…Yeah, he was rather relaxed.”

Then, the light bulb went off in both siblings simultaneously.

“The book,” they both said in unison.

And then they chuckled at how in sync they said the exact phrase at the same time.

“The book must be something rather personal to him…but I wonder how or why,” Morgana pondered.

Declan nodded as he considered the many ways a book documenting plant species was personal to him. Could it hold memories? Could something deeper be hidden behind the rows of words and dried samples of plants? Something that he had missed right under his nose. Declan tried his very best to remember since when Noel’s mood had changed. 

Then it dawned on him. That weird plant he thought nothing of.

Morgana watched a flicker of eureka shining in Declan’s eyes before the troubling emotions clouded his eyes again. She sighed and patted his back.

“You know, Declan, if you still haven’t figured it out, there is no harm of reaching out to Noel again to ask what exactly happened. All you have to do is be honest and patient, and I’m pretty sure he’d be willing to share.”

“But… I feel like he doesn’t want to see me. I don’t know. I don’t want to be the source of discomfort to him,” Declan’s shoulders slumped as he leaned against the wall with his arm folded.

Monica’s eyes lingered on Declan a while longer before smiling, “You really treasure him, huh.”

Declan huffed a soft laugh as he nodded, “Yeah, I guess I was not being very subtle about it.”

“You know, maybe you should say that first. Tell him who he is to you before you seek to understand what happened in your last meet-up. I got a good feeling that he would open up to you more easily afterwards.”

Declan listened to Monica’s advice as he contemplated. After a while, he nodded as he gazed in the direction of where Noel’s house would be from the castle.

“I’ll give it a try,” Declan smiled slightly, his eyes lingering a little more on that direction before turning to face Morgana, “ Thanks for listening to me and giving me some solid advice. It’s rather helpful, little sis.”

Morgana smirked, “No problem. Besides, it’s rather intriguing to see if my dear brother could ever bring anything home other than tree logs.”

Declan blushed slightly as he tried to play it casually, “ Ha-ha, very funny.”

Morgana shook her head with a smile, “All the best, Declan. At least your looks make up for your boring character.”

“Hey! What do you mean by that!” Declan called out in faux hurt with a smile tugging his lips as he watched Morgana walk away with a slight spring in her footsteps.

A knowing smile played on her lips as Morgana shook her head with amusement. Her brother having a crush on someone else was something she had not expected, but here he was, worried about someone else being upset. Morgana paused as she realised what had just come over her. 

She had just thought of Declan as her brother.

It just felt so natural and it reminded her a little of her time with Arthur, but of course, Declan is definitely the more mature out of the two, given how he is the older brother of Monica so he had the responsibility of taking care of someone other than doing the chores. Morgana sighed as she paused to stare at Arthur’s room, which was still closed off out of respect for him. The moonlight sliced through the window, dividing herself and Arthur’s room, which stood in the shadows. It was funny, really, how the bad guy stands alive with a slight punishment of occasional splitting pain and migraine while the good guy fell into a deep state of slumber and was presumably dead.

Morgana frowned as she continued to look at the door to Arthur’s room with nostalgia. Pieces of memories where Morgana and Arthur would play together, read books, and duel with wooden swords came flooding back. Morgana took a deep breath as she leaned her forehead against Arthur’s door and closed her eyes,

“I’m sorry, brother.” 

Morgana felt a lump forming in her throat as she thought of how she had wronged him. She knew Arthur was not the nicest person when it came to words in the past and how he would unintentionally leave Morgana hurt and humiliated, especially when he dismissed her nightmares. Still, she knew deep down that he was a good guy.

Morgana took in a deep breath as she tried to steady the emotions that roared within her head.

“Monica?”

Morgana's head shot back up as she stepped away from the door immediately.

A figure stood out of the shadow into the moonlight, her white nightgown glowing under the moon.

“Gwen,” Morgana said quietly, “What are you doing at such a time?”

Gwen strolled towards Morgana and sighed, “I can’t sleep. What about you? Why were you leaning on that door just now? ”

Morgana's heart skipped a beat at that question but she schooled her expression quickly and smiled, “Oh, I just had a little headache and needed to rest my head on something nearby.”

Gwen nodded empathetically and sighed, “Yeah, I understand. I have had quite a couple of migraines recently, and I always  feel like I need to rest my head on something.”

Morgana was secretly relieved that Gwen bought her excuse, but she could not help but frown slightly at Gwen’s comment.

“Your Majesty, what caused you to have migraines?”

A hint of poignance shone in Gwen's eyes as she adverted them to the large windows that showed the expanse of the little flames dotting the kingdom. Gwen paused for a moment before saying, “I’ve been wondering if I had been a good Queen so far, if I tend to every matter in the kingdom right, if I make the people’s lives better.”

Morgana followed her gaze and then went back to Gwen’s expression as she took in her features, which, on closer inspection, seemed to be sagging in exhaustion. Morgana’s eyes then noticed how Gwen’s hands were clenching and relaxing together restlessly behind her back. She wanted to reach out to hold them in hers and soothe her worries, but she could not. She is a maidservant—she cannot touch the Queen without permission.

“You’re doing well so far,” Morgana said as she gave the Queen a reassuring smile.

Gwen turned her gaze away from the window to face Morgana as she smiled gratefully.

“Thank you, Monica. I am glad that you think that of me, but every night, I lay awake rethinking the events that happened and how I could have done better. It keeps me awake all night.”

Morgana knew how losing sleep sucks. She used to have insomnia from her nightmares and it was terrible. Absolutely tormenting. 

“ I can draw you a hot bath before you go to bed if you would like. I heard it can help you feel more relaxed before you sleep,” Morgana said as she considered how that might help her feel calmer, “ Oh, I could sing a lullaby to you too… If you want, of course.”

Gwen raised her brow amusingly as she pictured herself being sang to sleep and chuckled, “Thanks for the offer. I may need it, who knows,” Gwen eyes flickered down as she seemed to be considering it. Then she looked back up, her eyes making contact with Morgana’s concerned gaze. For a moment, she felt a tinge of familiarity in those concerned eyes, and her heart skipped a beat. Then she shook her head and laughed softly, “ I think I’ll head back to bed now; I’m seriously starting to see things…would you like to accompany me? I could do a lullaby.”

“Of course.” Morgana smiled as she held out her hand gracefully.

Morgana took her hand gently as the two walked past columns of shadows on the faint moonlit corridor before reaching back to Gwen’s bedroom.

As soon as they arrived at Gwen’s bedroom, Morgana lifted the velvet blanket so Gwen could crawl in before tucking her in snuggly. Then, she walked over to the candles and blew them one by one. Unbeknownst to her, Gwen was watching every movement closely. The way Morgana would flip her hair aside as she blew the candle to the way she’d walk from one candle to the next, nothing escaped Gwen’s gaze. However, as soon as Morgana turned to face Gwen, Gwen would shut her eyes quickly and feign being sleepy.

Morgana smiled softly as she watched Gwen’s tired expression while placing her lamp on the bedside table. Then, Morgana sat on the corner of the plush sheets as she patted Gwen’s shoulder rhythmically, trying to comb through her memory for a lullaby. Then, a lullaby came to her, and she decided that was it. She held the lullaby close to her heart, though she did not recall why, but it was sweet and gentle. With that, she cleared her voice and sang it.

Lavenders in the field,

Sway gently around you.

May all scars be healed,

And may peace arrive, too.

Close your eyes, my darling,

And feel the steady wind blows,

Hear them quietly singing

As the river of love flows.

Lavenders in the field,

Sway gently around you.

You have me as your shield,

So you can bid worries adieu.

As Morgana finished the last sentence, she noticed Gwen had drifted asleep. Morgana smiled fondly as she leaned forward instinctively, almost about to kiss Gwen’s forehead when she stopped. She sighed as she pulled away slowly and chided herself internally for what she was about to do. Then she scooped her lamp from the bedside table and whispered goodnight with a small smile before silently walking out of the room.

When the door clicked shut, Gwen’s eyes flung wide open as she took in a deep, shaky breath. She clutched her blanket tightly around her with trembling hands as the heavy reality settled onto her.

There were only two people who knew that lullaby. The one who had created it, her father, who was already dead, and the one who she would often sing to comfort that person to sleep when she was a maidservant.

Chapter Text

“Don’t touch us, you freak!” 

A group of young boys towered over a scrawny kid as they prodded him with toy swords and spears, cornering the kid into the corner of the alley. The kid stumbled back, defenceless, as he bit his lips. He could only retort with his eyes silently with hurt and anger. 

One of the older boys in the group leaned forward as he frowned in abhorrence.

“You must be a spawn from hell. Your red eyes and that huge birthmark hiding behind your white hair… it’s not human. It’s evil, you're evil!” 

The other boys jeered in unison, creating a raucous that threatened to swallow the targeted kid whole. The kid's hands trembled as he exclaimed, “I am not! I did nothing bad!” 

“But you’re destined to be bad,” The leader emerged from the group of rowdy youths. He narrowed his eyes as he lay his sword under the kid’s chin. “You are hideous. Unnatural. I will remind you every day who you are. That medicine your mother made? It’s sorcery. It healed my younger sister’s fever, and now everyone’s attention is on her again. You ROBBED me of all good things, and your mother’s a witch. Witches are wicked.”

The boy's gaze hardened as he muttered with a shaky voice, “Don’t insult my mother.”

“It’s not an insult. It is a fact. Your mother is a malicious and dangerous sorceress, and that makes you a monster.”

The boy’s mother had always taught him to bear with it and not to resort to violent means. He had tried, but it had been going on for too long, and they had crossed the line. They went too far. With all the courage the young boy could muster, he curled his fists into tight balls and pounced on the leader of the group. The leader was shocked by the sudden attack, but he darted from the attack instinctively. The group then surrounded the boy furiously and under the leader’s command, they beat him up incessantly with their rather heavy toy swords and spears with practised ease. The young boy tried to stand back up and fight but to no avail, as he was thrashed from all angles. All he could do was to huddle up like before, and the many beatings that had happened, and cover the vital parts of his head with his thin hands.

He wanted to use magic. 

Curse them all to death.

Or something.

Anything.

But he cannot. No matter how much he would like to get back at them with the ONE thing he had an edge over them, he cannot because he would get his mother in trouble and possibly killed. The young boy gripped his hair and let out an anguished cry as he grew numb not only to the bruises blossoming on his skin but also from within. He felt neither warmth nor colour in this world. 

“What are you doing?! Back off!”

Another taller boy came into view, shoved his way to the young boy and yelled firmly, “You want to bully him? You get to me first.”

The leader and his gang paused as the taller boy stood infront of the injured boy defensively, assuming a fighting stance with his fists before him. Then the people around him burst into laughters. The taller boy’s expression remains unfazed.

“You’re making a mistake. We’re not bullying him. We are putting him in his place so that he’ll never be a threat to society.” The leader lowered his wooden sword as he gestured to his friends. “We are protecting us, people like you and not a freak like him. So join us. Don’t protect someone hideous and evil like him.”

“The only evil I see is you guys ganging up against him, so get lost or fight me,” The taller boy said in an authoritative, icy voice.

“You’re making an enemy of us,” The leader’s voice dripped with venom before swinging a kick towards the taller boy. The taller boy dodged it quickly, catching the leg with precision, and slammed the leader on the ground, his whole body pinning him down.

“Who’s next?”

The rest flinched from the loud thud and backed away slowly before dispersing, running their separate ways. The leader who was wriggling and struggling under the taller boy just a moment ago, stopped all acts of defiance as he watched the people who supported him leave all at once. The taller boy crouched and said sternly, “I’ll let you go under one condition. Never harass that boy with your friends again. Is that understood?

The leader nodded slowly and muttered, “Understood.” 

The taller boy slowly unhanded him and stood up, watching him closely with narrowed eyes in case he wanted to retaliate. The leader seemed to know he was in a disadvantageous situation because he retreated frantically, crawling urgently before standing up properly and running away.

All this while, the injured boy watched all that was happening with wide eyes. It was something he had not expected at all. Kicks and jabs kept raining on him, and he assumed it would remain that way. Like always. But then this boy stood up for him, even when they had no connections. Why? He looked at that taller boy in a dazed expression.

“Hey, can you walk?” The taller boy squatted down and inspected the bruises and small scratches on him, “Those looks nasty.”

“Yeah… I think so…” The injured boy mumbled as he stood up wobbly while wincing from the ache all over his body.

“Careful,” The taller boy held him tentatively, offering his arm for support. 

The injured boy nodded as he held onto the taller boy’s arm and whispered, “Thanks.”

“No worries! By the way, you look small…are you nine? They really shouldn’t pick on people younger than them…cowards,” The taller boy spat as he walked along with the injured boy slowly, making sure their pace matched.

The injured boy hesitated briefly before looking at the ground and muttering, “I’m twelve.”

“No way! You look too skinny and small to be twelve!” The taller boy looked at him incredulously.

The injured boy shrugged as he averted his gaze away. The taller boy noticed that and quickly added, “Hey, it’s not a bad thing. I mean no offense…it’s just, I’m surprised. Most twelve-year-olds here are the same height as me.”

The younger boy nodded silently.

The taller boy sighed as he ruffled his hair awkwardly. Then he cleared his throat before facing the injured boy, “I’m sorry.”

The injured boy froze on the spot as he looked at the the taller boy and said in a soft voice, “What?”

The taller boy’s cheek coloured in embarrassment as he said as sincerely as possible, “I’m sorry if I’ve offended you.”

Tears suddenly sprung from the injured boy’s eyes as he stood there, his lips quivering. No one really cared about him before, let alone apologised to him. His emotions came crashing on him like waves from a broken damp. All at once, there is colour, there is pain, there is joy. All at once, he felt so alive.

The taller boy panicked at the sight of tears rolling down on the injured boy’s eyes and he said softly,“ Hey, hey, don’t cry…I’m sorry. Here, wait let me just give you something.”

The taller boy clumsily opened the flap of his sling bag and took out a sourdough. He held it out to the injured boy gingerly and said with a small smile, “Here, this is a snack my mum made for me. It’s really tasty! I hope you can forgive me…”

The injured boy was confused. He looked at the other with a puzzled gaze as he waved his hands frantically, “No, it’s okay! You don’t need to apologise to me…I can’t accept it. You’re the one that rescued me from just now; I should be the one thanking you and saying sorry for my attitude. I was just feeling super down. I-”

“Take it, please. Besides, it’ll lift your mood, trust me,” the taller boy smiled reassuringly as he placed the bread gently into the other’s hands. The injured boy looked at the bread in awe, and then back at the taller boy with a grateful smile.

“Thank you.”

With that, the injured boy carefully bit the Sourdough as the taller boy stood beside him, watching in anticipation. The wounded boy’s eyes lit up at the chewy texture of the bread, along with its uniquely tangy aroma. He took another bite, then another, his pace picking up as he did so. It was so so good and he devoured it within minutes. The taller boy chuckled at the sight of the other licking the crumbs off his fingers and smiled, “It’s good, isn’t it?”

The other nodded with a broad smile, “It’s delicious!”

The taller boy smiled proudly before his eyes drooped down in contemplation, “Do you want to meet up tomorrow? I can bring more pastry to share with you.”

The wounded boy’s smile widened as his eyes twinkled in excitement, “Really? You want us…to meet again tomorrow?”

“Yeah, of course.”

The wounded boy could not contained his excitement, his smile radiant but his hands were fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. He was still taking in the fact that he would have his first friend and everything were rather new to him. The boy took in a deep breath and asked, “Why? Why do you do all this for me? Why be my friend when I look …undesirable and unpopular.”

“Well, you’re nice, and I think we can be great friends!” the taller boy smiled as he extended his hand to the other boy, “I’m Declan, by the way. What’s your name?”

The wounded boy clasped his hand around Declan’s larger hand, shaking it shyly, “I’m Noel.”

“Noel,” Declan echoed before a fond smile formed on his lips and he said in a soft tone, “I like it. Noel.”

Noel blushed faintly before withdrawing his hand from Declan and said, “Well, I guess I’ll meet you tomorrow?”

“Definitely! Let’s meet up at this street lamp here at eight in the morning?”

“Sure, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you!”

-

Noels woke up naturally early in the morning, his heart heavy as he recalled the past and how he and Declan first met…but apparently only he remembered.

He did not really want to confront the day, so he just lay there on the bed.

He watched the dust swirl randomly in the rays of sunlight, trying to distract himself from the ache and dread he felt from within. But it seemed like the weight in his heart forbade him from doing so.

Noel sighed as he sat up and dragged his feet to the bathroom to freshen up. He splashed some water on his face while muttering to himself that he would be alright and he would survive the day, but as soon as he saw his reflection in the bucket of water… all his fears came rushing back like locusts. In the water was an image of a young man with ghastly, intense red eyes and an ugly red mark crawling under the white fringe. Noel flinched from the repulsiveness of his reflection instantly and quickly muttered an incantation. He took a steady breath and peered at the water in the basket again and heaved a sigh of relief. His eyes were in a natural shade of blue now and there was no awful birthmark on his face. 

Noel then walked away from the bucket of water and although he did feel much better, he was still on edge. He could not help but worry that Declan would not like him anymore if he found out his true appearance, and he will do anything to prevent that from happening. If Declan didn’t remember their past, it’s highly possible that what he feared would come true.

An image of disgust in Declan’s eyes flashed in Noel’s mind and Noel shook his head, trying to shake it off. His breath grew shallow as he clenched onto the table beside him for support. Yeah, he would never let Declan see his real appearance, even if that meant constantly evading him like what he was doing currently. At least…At least Declan would only remember him as a pleasant-looking, normal person from the last time they interacted. 

Noel took a deep breath as he walked down the stairs to the apothecary workshop, where his mother was grinding herbs. The seasons were changing from winter to spring, though the weather was still icy cold, which meant more people got sick at this time. Noel walked mechanically towards the board, where there hanged a list written by his mother of the herbs Noel had to harvest before the crack of dawn.

“Good morning, Noel.”

Noel muttered back the greeting to his mother as he picked the list of herbs off the board and went over to pick up the basket sitting on the cabinet. 

“That boy, Declan? He’s been coming over,” Noel’s mother said while putting the stone pestle and looking at her son concernly.

“I know.”

“Why do you keep avoiding him? He sounds like a considerate person from your past stories and the short conversations I had with him recently by the door,” Noel’s mother planted a hand on her hip as she leaned against the desk, watching Noel’s expression closely.

“Mum, he doesn’t remember that we have met in the past. That means he would have forgotten what I actually look like. What if he doesn’t like how I look? I look awful.”

Noel’s mother felt a sharp pang of remorse at Noel’s statement. After all, she was the one who gave birth to him and brought Noel out into this world in this state. Noel’s mother took a deep breath, trying to stop the swarming negativity and self-blame in her mind. To her, Noel is perfect, and she needed to reassure Noel about that.

“Noel, you don’t look awful to me…or to anyone who would love you. You look special and I’m sure if this boy, Declan, didn’t mind it in the past, he would not mind it now.”

Noel paused before his shoulders slumped as he folded the list into his sling back and sighed.

“Maybe,” Noel said quietly before he headed out.

-

Declan had just finished his shift, and he was now brooding in his room about the whole “meeting Noel in person” thing that would happen soon. His gaze fell back to the sketch of the plant he drew based on his memory. It was called Linnaea Borealis, according to Noel’s mother. But she also mentioned how there should be two flowers instead of one and how they would connect to a stalk in a Y-shape.

Declan sighed. Thanks to his sincere request to meet Noel once more to bridge the awkward gap that is growing more evident between them, Noel's mother gave him the location of where and when her son would be today, and she also gave him her blessings. However, the time Noel’s mother had planned for both of them to meet was fast approaching and he had yet to understand the significance of the flower and how it was related to them.

Time is ticking and he is at his wit’s end.

Declan groaned as he ran his hand in his hair frustratedly. His room suddenly felt like it was closing in on him and he walked out of his room briskly, his hand still clutching onto the sketch of the Linnaea Borealis. What exactly about it is special? WHY does it look so familiar? 

Declan’s mother ambled out of her room as she stifled a yawn, “Oh, you’re back.”

Declan nodded and forced a smile, “Yeah, came home a little earlier.”

Declan’s mother sensed something off right away, though she knew that her son had been quite agitated for the past few weeks. Her eyes followed her son’s gaze, which lay on a piece of drawing that crumpled a little in Declan’s tight grip.

“Hey, isn’t that the flower you asked me how to press when you were twelve?” 

Declan's head shot right up as he looked at his mother as if she held the keys to the mystery.

“Wait, I did?”

“Yeah, you even kept it within your secret box. It’s my first time seeing you so interested in a plant, and you seem to treasure it very much,” Declan’s mother nodded as she chuckled, amused at Declan’s reaction.

Declan sprinted to his room quickly and started digging through his belongings for the secret box. When he finally found it, it was covered with a thick blanket of dust. Declan coughed a little as he blew the layer of dust off and opened the box. The box held the little trinkets and treasured items like his wooden sword and a diary. Declan scooped out the diary carefully and flipped open the first page to see a plant that is almost identical to that of Noel’s. It has the same height, the same shade of pink on the petals, and the exact width of the stalk; the only difference is that while Noel’s flowers faced the left, his was facing the right. And if you piece the two parts, Noel’s part and Declan’s part together, they make a whole, complete Linnaea Borealis.

Declan’s breath hitched as memories flooded in, knocking the air out of him. He gingerly took the pressed flower from his diary and lay it within his folded sketch of Noel’s part of the flower before putting it in his pocket. Then he sprang up from the floor and left the house in a rush with a smile dancing on his lips.

He didn’t need to read the entries.

He remembered them all now.

The wind whipped his hair behind him as he ran to where the forest was, his heart thumping wildly at the thought of sharing this news with Noel. As dark shades of tree trunks passed by him in a blur, he saw a figure with snowy hair and a thin frame from afar. Declan’s grin widened as he saw the sight of Noel and how he was harvesting herbs at ease with such grace. God, he is so beautiful, although he seemed different from the Noel in the past.

“Noel!” Declan yelled excitedly while waving his arm enthusiastically.

Noel’s heart dropped as he recognised that voice instantly. He stopped whatever he was doing and started running away.

“No wait! Please! I-I remember!” Declan pleaded as he continued to chase after Noel.

“You…remember?” Noel slowed down and turned to face Declan.

Declan panted and choked as he gasped for air. After taking a while to recover, he nodded with a broad smile.

“Yes, I remember all our adventures when we’re young…and I remember our promise now.”

Declan took the paper from his pocket with trembling hands. He unfolded it to reveal half of a pressed Linnaea Borealis inside.

“I promised we would meet again, and when we do, we will piece my part of the flower with yours so it’ll become whole again. I promised to see you again, to always treasure what we have,” Declan gently placed the pressed flimsy flower onto Noel’s palm with a soft smile.

“I-I don’t get it,” Noel muttered as he looked at the flower, and then back at Declan with lost eyes searching deep into Declan’s, “If you remember the past…that means you remembered how hideous I look like… why would you want to meet me again? Aren’t you disgusted? Don’t you feel betrayed that the appearance you’re seeing now is not real?

Declan stepped closer, shaking his head as he cooed, “No no no, don’t say that about yourself. You’re not hideous, Noel. And I understand your need to cover them up in public so that you can interact with others easily. So no, I don’t feel betrayed. But with me, you don’t need to hide it. I love all your unique features,”

Noel took in a shaky breath as he asked quietly, “But, don’t you think my red eyes are so freakish and abnormal? What about the birthmark across my forehead?”

Declan smiled reassuringly as he said sincerely, “ I think what I’m about to say would be much better if you show me your actual appearance…if you’re comfortable with it.”

Noel hesitated for a while before nodding and muttering a spell under his breath. Slowly, the birthmark appeared behind the curtain of silver strands, and Noel’s baby blue eyes swirled into a ruby red. Noel adverted his eyes nervously as he stared hard at the ground, refusing to look at Declan. Noel fiddled with the hem of his tunic as he anxiously awaited Declan’s response.

Declan laughed softly as he knelt down and lifted his head to meet Noel’s eyes.

“You have the cutest look I’ve ever seen. Do you know when I was young, I’d love to see your cherry-red eyes lighting up in wonder whenever we talked about plants? You remind me of an adorable fluffy rabbit, and you still do. And your birthmark? It’s a splash of brown ink that makes you so wonderfully unique and beautiful. It’s like your signature on a canvas, and you, Noel, are an art.”

Noel’s eyes grew misty as he tried to digest the honey-sweet words about his appearance. 

“God, you’re such a flatterer,” Noel said in a choked voice as he tried to wipe his tears away, but they kept on flowing down his cheeks.

Declan laughed softly as he stood up from the ground and slowly closed the gap between him and Noel, making sure that Noel had enough time to reject him if he wanted space.

Noel, however, leaned in onto Declan and buried his face into his shoulders.

Declan wrapped his arms gently around Noel and patted his back with one hand. He wanted to say more and confess his feelings for Noel, but for now, this is enough. Now, he had to focus on Noel. He had to soothe his worries, make sure that he was confident with his looks and remind Noel that he would be there for him. That was his priority.

After a while, Declan could hear the sobbing reducing to just occasional hiccups, and he pulled back slightly to meet Noel’s puffy eyes. 

God, could this man get any more adorable?

“Noel, I know this is hard to believe, but trust me when I say you look endearing and beautiful. I’ll remind you of it everyday if you’re okay with it,” Declan smiled as he caressed Noel’s cheek with his hand, his thumb gently brushing a falling tear away.

Noel’s heart skipped a beat when he felt Declan’s tender touch, and his cheeks grew pink from it. After a while, he whispered, “Thank you.”

Declan drew his hand away reluctantly and nodded, “No worries. I’m just stating the fact. You’re like a hidden gem, and I’m glad to be able to admire it.”

“Oh my god, you’re not going to spare me from your words, aren’t you?” Noel huffed, but a small smile was tugging his lips.

“Never,” Declan gave a radiant smile as he picked up the basket full of herbs that Noel had left on the ground in haste.

Noel shook his head in mirth as he picked up a couple more herbs on the list before he decided that he had harvested enough herbs.

“So…may I walk you home? I’d love to fulfil our promise of piecing the Linnaea Borealis together again,” Declan asked with a trace of anticipation.

Noel smiled as the two started strolling out of the forest, “Sure, you may.”

As they walked out of the forest, the sun rays filtered through the trees and nestled right in Noel’s hair, turning it into strands of glowing sunlight. His eyes were like embers, and together with his white tunic, he looked like an angel. 

“You’re beautiful, Noel,” Declan said breathlessly.

“Yeah, I get that,” Noel felt himself giddy from the praise as he blushed faintly.

For once in his life, Noel truly felt that…

he looked alright.