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Chapter Text

The morning of the execution dawned pale and still, the skies above Camelot a drab stretch of grey that seemed to echo the tension in the air. Beneath the stone balcony of the castle, the courtyard had begun to fill—knights in crimson cloaks, solemn-faced citizens, and the ever-watchful castle guards with their mail glinting in the late summer’s cool morning light.

Elaine Pendragon stood silently at her father’s left side, her slender fingers clenched so tightly around the balustrade that her knuckles had turned white. The light breeze danced around the skirts of her dress, a pale blue threaded with silver, the hem fluttering just slightly behind her heels, but she did not dare move.

She did not want to be here. But, as was so often the case, she was not given a choice. At sixteen, this was the first time she would witness death.

Uther had summoned her at breakfast, his tone firm and decided. "You will stand beside me, as is your place. You are grown enough now to witness justice."

Few dared question Uther Pendragon. His youngest child certainly never did.

Arthur - five years her senior - stood at Uther's right; tall, golden and composed. He wore his red cape like a mantle of purpose, his bearing dignified, though his jaw was tight. Execution was no novelty to Arthur - as heir to the throne he had witnessed several - but Elaine could tell he still felt the weight of it. His face was solemn, no trace of the slightly cocky smirk he so often wore these days.

She glanced once at the empty place beside her, the spot Morgana should have occupied. Morgana had adamantly refused to attend - again - and though Uther had thundered about disobedience, no punishment had yet followed. Elaine wished, for the thousandth time in her life, that she had even a fraction of Morgana’s daring.

As the drums began to beat, Elaine could not keep her eyes off the prisoner. Thomas Collins; accused of sorcery, and for that there could be but one penalty in Camelot. He looked up at Uther as he was brought up onto scaffold. Though pale and trembling, he stared at the king with unabashed hatred.

Elaine barely heard her father speak over the thundering of her own heart. She clasped her sweating hands tightly together as the prisoner was made to step forward and kneel at the block. The executioner stepped forward, axe in hand, and Uther raised his his arm before bringing it down decisively.

The axe came down and the crowd gasped as one. Elaine turned away with a whimper, screwing her eyes shut. The sickening thunk echoed like thunder through her bones. There was so much blood…

She jumped as her father’s voice sounded beside her: low, cold, and close to her ear; words spoken so that the crowd below would not hear them.

“Hold your head up! You are a daughter of Camelot, not a cringing kitchen maid!”

She flinched, eyes fixing rigidly on the wall at the other side of the courtyard, so that she might not focus on the body. “I—I’m sorry, Father.”

“There is nothing worthy in cowardice,” he snapped. “Compose yourself!”

She tried to, ever fearful of his displeasure, her stomach roiling at the memory of the sound the axe had made. She felt so faint that she barely attended to the words that the dead man’s grieving mother hurled at her father, before she disappeared.

At last it was over and they could step back inside. The air was warmer indoors, and the scent of the summer rushes strewn on the floor was light and sweet, but it did not soothe the chill in her heart nor the queasiness of her stomach. Her father stalked ahead wordlessly, his cloak sweeping behind him. He said nothing more, his disappointment all too clear. Arthur gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze and then followed in silence.

Elaine waited until the heavy doors had closed behind them before she did what she always did when distress stung her eyes and tightened her throat...

She ran to Morgana.

Her slippers made almost no sound on the flagstones as she fled through the halls and up the tower stair that led to Morgana’s chamber. She did not knock when she reached the door. She had never needed to.

Morgana was within, dressed in rich deep blue, sitting by the fireplace. Her maid, Guinevere - of a similar age to Morgana, looked up at Elaine’s arrival from where she was tending to some of Morgana’s clothes.

Morgana rose quickly to her feet, her own face very pale. She didn’t say a word, just opened her arms, and Elaine immediately threw herself into them.

“It was horrible!” she whispered into Morgana’s shoulder, tears spilling into the dark blue fabric of the older girl's gown. “He looked so afraid. There was so much blood, I couldn’t bear it!”

“I saw from the window,” Morgana said bleakly, smoothing her hair gently. “Hush now, little flower. It is over now.”

Elaine leaned gratefully into the warmth of her embrace. There was no one in the kingdom she loved even half so well as she loved Morgana. The older girl was the sun around which Elaine orbited. She was the gilder of every enjoyment, the soother of every sorrow; confidante, best friend and as dear to Elaine as any sister could ever be. Morgana was everything she admired and everything Elaine wished she could be herself: brave, beautiful, charismatic, kind and just.

Guinevere, though both the young women called her Gwen, brought Elaine a handkerchief with a gentle, sympathetic smile. Elaine liked Gwen very much.

“That’s better now,” Morgana said after a moment, as Elaine wiped at her eyes. “Or else your eyes will be all red and swollen. I should have locked you in here with me and kept you from it all!”

Elaine could only shrug helplessly. Morgana got away with defying Uther in a way Elaine never could. Some said it was because, as a mere ward, Morgana could be afforded more freedom than a trueborn Princess of Camelot. Others said that it was because the king so lamented the loss of his great friend Gorlois that he indulged Morgana in a way he never had his own children.

Whatever the reason, Elaine knew that if she had dared refuse to attend that morning, she would have simply wound up on the balcony anyway with a sore backside for her troubles.

“Here at least is news to make you smile,” Morgana said softly, her tone brightening a little, clearly focussed on cheering the younger girl up. “Gwen brought up some gossip from the kitchens. Tomorrow night, we will have a more pleasant distraction. Lady Helen of Mora is to sing at court. Uther invited her to celebrate twenty years of no magic.” Morgan’s eyes flashed dark at the last sentence.

Elaine lifted her head, eyes wide. “The Lady Helen? The court singer from Nemeth?”

“The very one. At least you have something enjoyable to look forward to now, little flower. Perhaps she’ll sing one of those romantic ballads you’re so fond of.”

“Do you think Father will let me attend?” Elaine asked. Up until fairly recently, she had not attended some of the grander court occasions.

“If you are old enough to watch someone’s head be chopped off,” said Morgana darkly. “Then you are old enough to attend a court feast and listen to a few songs. If Arthur argues I shall kick him in the shin!”

Gwen stifled a chuckle, while Elaine gave a small, wobbly smile. She had absolutely no doubt that Morgana meant it!

But then the bells chimed and she had to scurry off to Lady Isabella, who superintended her education and did not take kindly to Elaine being late to her lessons.

It was midmorning when Elaine first saw the boy.

She had taken her embroidery into the solar which was set aside for her and Morgana’s use; the one that overlooked the practice yard. Sewing was a pastime which she found soothing. Her needle moved in and out of the pale silk in gentle rhythm, though her thoughts wandered, the sound of the axe frequently reappearing to turn her stomach.

Down below, Arthur had been tormenting one of his servants in the yard.

Elaine adored her brother, she truly did, but she was not blind to his faults. As he had grown into manhood, Arthur had become terribly arrogant and full of his an importance. He was heir to the throne of course - Elaine supposed he was allowed to be a little arrogant - but she wished he would not bully the servants, who could not fight back and put him in his place like Morgana so often did.

But now, it seemed, someone else was trying to.

Down in the yard, Arthur was engaged in a verbal sparring match with a dark-haired youth in plain clothes. Elaine blinked, surprised. A servant? No, she would have surely known him if it was. He must have been peasant boy, perhaps nineteen or twenty. His clothes were rough but his tone was braver than it had any right to be.

He stood his ground, even as Arthur advanced on him. Elaine leaned curiously out the window, half-forgetting her needle. She listened in fascination as the boy bluntly called Arthur an ass, and gasping as he eventually took a swing at Arthur before being brought to his knees.

She thought this young peasant boy was rather remarkable! And when she heard the castle servants gossiping later in the day that he had been put in the stocks as a consequence, Elaine discretely fetched a leather water flask and, cloaked and hooded, she slipped through a postern gate and out into the city.

The sun was high now, and the stocks sat in the full glare of its heat. The boy had already been pelted liberally with fruit and vegetables. A bit of over-ripe marrow hung from his ear. Now she was close she could see that he had dark hair, a slim build and rather large ears.

The children who had been pelting him, having run out of their pungent ammunition, melted away and Elaine seized the moment to approach quietly, drawing the water flask from her cloak. Her hood shadowed her face, but she stepped close enough for him to look up around his constraints and meet her eyes.

“Hello,” she said softly. “You must be very thirsty by now!”

The boy blinked at her, squinting in the sunlight. “Not going to chuck it at me then?”

“That would be terribly unkind!” Elaine laughed and opened the flask. She held it up to his lips. “Here.”

The boy gulped the water with not a little desperation and as he did so, Elaine felt the need to say: “I really am terribly sorry about my brother!”

“Your brother?” The boy’s voice sounded a little smoother now he’d had a drink.

“Arthur,” Elaine explained. “He can be terribly…”

“But that would make you…” the boy began, brow wrinkling in alarm.

“I’m Elaine,” she realised she had not introduced herself.

“Arthur’s sister?”

“Yes.”

“The king’s daughter?”

“Yes.”

The boy smiled faintly, went to straighten up automatically and bashed his neck against the stocks as a consequence. “Well, um, pleased to meet you, my lady…I mean Your Highness. I’m Merlin.”

“Well met, Merlin,” Elaine laughed at his expression. “Just Elaine is fine.”

That was when a voice behind her gasped in stifled horror.

“My lady!”

Gwen rushed forward to the stocks, cloak flying behind her in her hurry. “My lady, what on earth are you doing down here by yourself? Have you no guard with you?”

“I just wanted to bring him some water,” Elaine explained. “It is such a hot day, and Arthur was awful to him.”

“Come, we must get you back to the castle at once,” Gwen said, her tone hushed, pulling Elaine’s hood down further over her eyes and quickly looking around. “If the king finds out you have been down in the city alone, you know you will get a terrible spanking!”

Elaine flushed miserably. “I know, I’m going, Gwen! I’ll go back the way I came. Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Of course I won’t, my lady. But go—hurry now!”

Elaine fled back to the castle, heart hammering as she slipped back through the gate and back once more into her own world. She had no idea who Merlin was. A merchant's son, perhaps, or a farmer's? But she rather thought she liked him.

In Gaius’s chambers the next morning, about to begin his first day as the physician’s assistant, Merlin rolled his stiff muscles, aching from hours held immobile, and told Gaius about the young woman who had brought him water the day before.

“She said she was Arthur’s sister,” he finished the story.

“Lady Elaine?” Gaius looked up sharply. “Fair hair and blue eyes?”

“Yeah, that’s her,” Merlin said. “She has better manners than her brother, you can say that much!”

“You’d best not mention that to anyone, Merlin!” Gaius said seriously. “The poor child will be in no end of trouble!”

“Why? She was nice.”

The court physician smiled faintly. “Indeed she is. Elaine is a sweet child, she has been from the day she was born, but it is a difficult thing to be a lamb in a family of lions. Uther is very hard on her.”

“She certainly didn’t seem anything like him,” Merlin said flatly.

“She’s not,” Gaius said quietly. “She’s her mother’s child through and through. Rowena of Wessex was a gentle soul; the king’s second wife. She died when Elaine was just a baby. Uther is not a man who values softness - and so while Elaine is the most obedient of them all, she’s the one he’s hardest on. So don’t get the poor girl into any trouble Merlin. You never saw her.”

Merlin grinned. “Of course I didn’t, it was the heat. Scrambled my brains!”

“Yes, I’m sure it did,” Gaius said dryly, handing him a small bottle. “Take this to Lady Morgana. For her headaches.”

And so Merlin found his way through the castle to the Lady Morgana's chambers. Morgana’s room was bright with late-morning sun when Merlin’s knock was answered with a quick “come in!”. Elaine was perched on the windowsill, threading fresh wildflowers into a garland. She looked up in surprise at the sight of him.

Merlin stepped in, blinked, then smiled. “Ah… Princess Elaine!”

She returned the smile, more warmly than expected. “Hello, Merlin.”

The dark haired beauty sat at the nearby vanity, who Merlin assumed must be the Lady Morgana, look up at him in undisguised interest.

“This is your new friend, little flower? He does not look so very bold!”

Merlin bowed clumsily and handed the vial to Morgana. “From Gaius, my lady, for your headache.”

Morgana, possibly the most beautiful woman Merlin had ever seen, gave a smirk. “I’m sure it’s from listening to Arthur rant about you!” she muttered. “Did you truly call him a royal ass?”

Merlin gave her a lopsided grin. “I may have said so, a couple of times.”

Elaine giggled. Morgana raised a brow. “Perhaps you really do have guts! Anyone who can knock Arthur down a peg or to is sure to be a friend of ours,” she said. “What do you think, Elaine? Shall we keep him?”

“I like him,” Elaine smiled cheerfully, her pale colouring a marked contrast to Morgana’s striking dark locks.

Merlin flushed slightly, then offered a short bow and a brighter grin. “Then I shall aim to be of service, ladies.”

The court gathered in the great hall that evening for Lady Helen’s performance.

The arrival of the young royal trio had been watched by all. Arthur, dressed in his best, was tall and commanding; his golden hair and light eyes set off by the crimson of his cloak. Morgana had turned every head in a gown of gold and burgundy, making Merlin stare long enough that Gaius cuffed him sharply around the head. Elaine had followed in their wake, her presence more muted but somehow softer and kinder. She was in a rose coloured gown, her long golden curls glinting in the candlelight.

The air buzzed with anticipation, and even Uther appeared something bordering on cheerful. Twenty years free of magic was a celebratory cause indeed!

Elaine sat beside Morgana in a state of high excitement, stifling smiles as the older girl whispered scandalous gossip about the various courtiers. She forced herself not to giggle lest her father be displeased and send her away to bed before the performance. Arthur lounged to Uther’s right, full of the confidence of his own station, nodding vaguely at courtiers, half-listening to a knight’s meandering story from close by.

When at last Lady Helen arrived, the hall fell eagerly silent. Elaine hoped she might sing the ballad of the constant knight, the one who had always waited for his love to return! But when the music began, far from thrilling and exciting her, Elaine began to feel oddly sleepy. Her limbs felt heavy, her mind cloudy. She would only shut her eyes a moment… just to rest them...nothing more....

When she awoke, the hall was in chaos.

Morgana was upright beside her, blinking fast, and their dresses were strewn with ribbons of something like spider webs; Elaine shivered in revulsion. Knights were shouting in alarm, her father was on his feet.

There was a knife buried in the chair where Arthur had been sitting. Her heart thundering, Elaine realised that Arthur, looking slightly shaken, was standing nearby, with Merlin at his side. Lady Helen lay dead on the flagstones, now wrinkled and aged, revealed in fact to be the mother of the sorcerer Elaine had seen beheaded the day before.

A chill ran through her.

“You saved my boy’s life,” Uther was saying to Merlin. “A debt must be repaid! You shall be awarded a position in the royal household. You shall be Prince Arthur’s manservant.”

It was hard to tell which of the young men looked most disgruntled by pronouncement!

Elaine was distracted from observing further because her father had appeared beside her and Morgana. “Are you hurt, either of you?” he asked, an uncharacteristic gentleness in his voice.

“No,” Morgana said. “We’re well enough, just muddle headed.”

Elaine nodded. “We’re all right, Father.” Then she blinked in shock as he gently cupped her cheek with a gloved hand, the touch so fleeting that she wondered if she had imagined it.

Uther nodded once. “Off to bed with you both; go and rest now.”

“Come on, little flower,” Morgana said affectionately, wrapping an arm around her as they left the hall. “You can sleep in my chamber tonight. I’ll be glad of the company after all this!”

Back in Morgana’s chamber, with the fire burning low and the curtains drawn, the girls huddled under the blankets together.

“Morgana?”

“Mmm?”

“Arthur might have died tonight, if not for Merlin!”

“Don’t fret, Elaine. He’s far too arrogant to end his days in such a way! But yes, Merlin is quite something. I wonder what they’ll make of each other!”

And in the quiet of that night, with the fire cracking and Morgana’s breathing steady beside her, Elaine wondered if life was about to get more interesting.

Later that night, on the way to his own slumber, Uther Pendragon looked in on his daughters. For only he knew the truth…that they were both his.

The girls lay huddled together in Morgana’s bed, both asleep. Morgana had an arm around Elaine, the pillows spread with hair that was alternatively ebony black and sunlit gold.

They were as sincerely attached to each other as the day Morgana had first been brought to the castle, though they had no idea that their sisterly affection was truer than they realised; that they were half-sisters by blood as well as of the heart.

Morgana, ironically, the one child he could not publicly claim, was the most like him of the three. She had his steel, his drive, his own determination to have things exactly as he willed them. Though she had inherited her mother’s dark colouring and flashing eyes, she was his through and through in nature. She would infuriate him sometimes with her defiance and impudence but deep down he was exceedingly proud of her.

Elaine…Elaine was another matter. Visibly, she was a Pendragon to the last eyelash, so like Arthur that were it not for the five years that separated them they might have been taken for twins; golden haired and blue eyed with the same high cheekbones. But there the similarity ended. Where Arthur was bold, confidant and daring, Elaine was meek and docile. She wept over injured animals, sympathised with servants and trembled at raised voices.

Uther had married Rowena of Wessex three years into his widowhood- a necessity to strengthen a much-needed treaty between their kingdoms. She was gentle, learned, kind, but it had not been a love match. Uther’s heart had closed the day he lost Ygraine. Still though, he had done his duty, visiting her bed several times a week until he’d got her pregnant. He’d been disappointed at the time not to have a second son but now he was glad of it; no rival to Arthur for the throne.

Rowena had died of fever when Elaine was but six months old. Gaius had hesitantly suggested that the illness was such that a Druid could easily have cured but Uther had stoutly refused. He’d not trust magic again. He’d purged it from Camelot in the aftermath of Ygraine's loss and a king must follow his own laws.

So Rowena had slipped quietly away, leaving Uther with the most pliant and obedient of his three motherless children. By rights, that should have made Elaine the easiest to love; after all, he was a man who wished above all things to be obeyed to the letter.

But somehow that was not the reality. The girl’s meekness, her cringing cowardice, her conciliatory nature in turns confused and angered him. In vain he tried to toughen her up but she only shrank from him further. He had used corporal punishment on all of them as they grew, but most frequently on Elaine. And though she clearly feared him, she hung on his every word with such desperate hope that he had no idea what to do with her. She would be married off to the prince of another kingdom soon enough. An heir of course, he would not give his daughter to a lesser prince. One day she would be the wife of a king, her sons kings in waiting. Softness would not at all serve her well.

Morgana on the other hand would make a fine queen. But on the surface she was a mere ward, and in reality a bastard. Her marriage options correspondingly would be lesser.

Once more utterly struck by the sheer contrast in his daughters, but satisfied that they were safe for now, Uther made his way along to bed.

Chapter Text

In the week that followed, as Merlin began his employment as Arthur’s servant, Elaine found herself encountering him more and more. At first it was mere chance; after all she slept in the same corridor as Arthur and was frequently in her brother's vicinity. But after that, she began seeking out the prince's new servant deliberately.

It was abundantly clear that he had not actually been in service before. Elaine had once peeked into Arthur’s chambers to find Merlin surrounded by chaos – really, Arthur was the most untidy young man alive – and trying to fold shirts, make the bed and sort the laundry all at the same time, and doing it all badly.

“Here,” she’d laughed, coming into the room and taking a bundle from him. “Let me help. You must fold them like this or else he will grumble terribly!”

“He grumbles regardless,” Merlin complained with a wry look. “I don’t think he has any other moods. How did you learn to do that, anyway? You a royal laundress in disguise?”

“I do know how to fold clothes,” Elaine shot back drily. “It’s not terribly complicated and not every noble in the castle treats their floor as a wardrobe, you know!”

“Think you could teach your ass of a brother? Or did you get all the brains in the family?”

That was what drew her back to Merlin again and again. It wasn’t just that he sassed Arthur, though it secretly delighted her, it was the fact that he treated her with no ceremony or condescension whatsoever. Elaine’s world was very, very limited; she rarely left the castle. She interacted with her family, with the nobles of the court and with some of the knights. Of the nobles, many of whom clearly thought she was nothing compared to the more charismatic and glamorous Morgana, most of them still treated her as though she were a little girl.

“Oh, Joan, you must mind what you say around Lady Elaine! Such subjects are not for an innocent little thing like her!”

“What a lovely gown, dear. You know you look almost grown up!”

Some of the knights were courteous and gentlemanly, and of the ones that were she was fondest of Sir Leon and Sir Guy. But they treated her with all the deference due to the king’s daughter: “Yes, my lady. Of course, my lady. The weather is very fine today, is it not?” None of them would have dared have anything like a reciprocal conversation. As for Arthur, he thought (and frequently said) that she was an annoying little nuisance.

Merlin however clearly didn’t care tuppence for rank or station and for the first time in her life, Elaine felt that she had made a friend besides Morgana and Gwen. He was open, friendly, cheerful and he spoke to her as though she was simply another person. He made her laugh more and more, grinning with delight every time he managed it. In turn, she helped him navigate the labyrinthine passages of the castle, keep track of who was who amongst the knights and the nobility and brought him cloths soaked in lavender water to bathe his bruises when Arthur knocked him around on the training field.

The latter was beginning to happen more frequently…for the tournament was approaching.

The castle buzzed like a beehive with excitement as banners snapped brightly above Camelot’s ancient walls. Knights were gathering from kingdoms far and wide, their armour polished to brilliance, ready to test their skill and strength. The whole city seemed alive, humming with anticipation and the clash of practice swords.

One evening, Elaine sat quietly in their solar, contentedly watching Morgana tease Arthur who had uncharacteristically joined them for the evening. Arthur, who was lounging against the window frame with his arms crossed and a peevish scowl on his handsome face, bore it with resigned annoyance.

“You’re so sure of yourself, Arthur,” Morgana said, her voice sweet with mockery. “Do you actually plan on fighting or will you have yourself crowned champion before the tournament even opens?”

“I'm certain I can handle whatever poor knights come my way,” Arthur replied evenly, his pride barely concealed. “I have been training hard, you know.”

“Such modesty,” Morgana laughed softly, her emerald eyes sparkling mischievously. “I can scarce believe your helmet fits over your head! Elaine, what do you think? Will your dear brother sweep the field, or will someone finally give him the bruised ego he so badly needs?”

Elaine glanced up, her needle paused above her embroidery hoop. “Arthur always wins.”

Arthur flashed her a pleased smile, until Elaine added quietly, “But I do wish you’d be more careful. The jousting is all very well, but the melee is so terribly violent. I hate to watch it.”

Arthur rolled his eyes dramatically. “You’re such a baby, Elaine.”

Morgana scowled and tossed an apple at him. “And you are an arrogant fool!”

Arthur caught the apple easily and smirked, tossing it back. Elaine simply smiled, turning her gaze back to her sewing. She was used to Arthur and Morgana’s banter; it had been one of the constants of her life. Privately, she mused that if Morgana could have been a knight, she was certain that she would be the one triumphant!

The next day, Elaine ventured to the training yard in the hour between her music lesson and her etiquette lessons with Lady Isabella, who had her memorising all the crests and lineages of the competing knights so she might be aware of who was worthy of her notice, how she must properly greet them and how to respond should one of them ask to wear her favour.

She found Merlin looking stiff and uncomfortable as he rested on a bale of hay, half dressed in practice armour. Arthur was busy sparring with Sir Leon and had not noticed her arrival.

“He has not been treating you badly again, has he?” she asked in concern.

“If he didn’t, I would worry he was possessed!” joked Merlin, wincing and holding his ribs as he laughed. “On a break from laundry folding are you?”

“I have an hour before I must see Lady Isabella,” Elaine sat down beside Merlin. “I thought I would come to see how he was doing. He is very sure of his victory.”

“Well if they give out a title for Most Arrogant Prat, he’s sure to win it,” Merlin huffed and winced again.

Elaine unwrapped a small bundle in her handkerchief, revealing it to be two fresh honey cakes. “Here,” she held it out to Merlin with a smile. “I fear it won’t do much for the pain, but at least you need not bear it on an empty stomach!”

“You are definitely my favourite Pendragon!” Merlin grinned and gratefully began to eat.

As Merlin tucked into the cakes, Elaine found her attention drawn to two of the squires, who were gossiping nearby. It was unladylike to eavesdrop, she knew, but it was not as though she could help overhearing. They were talking about one of Lady Aelgifu’s daughters and what they were saying made Elaine’s eyebrows knit in confusion. She filed it away to ask later.

Dinner that evening was a quiet affair in Uther’s own private solar; just the king, his children and his ward. The table was much smaller than the one in the great hall, though far from scanty. It was a reasonably sized square, situated as such that one of them sat on each side; Elaine directly opposite Morgana and Arthur opposite his father.

Most of the conversation, inevitably, was about the tournament; Arthur’s preparations, the opening ceremony, the concluding feast where the winner would have the honour to escort Morgana. Elaine listened placidly until there was a lull in the conversation and then she once more found her thoughts drifting back to the conversation she had earlier overhead. She supposed now was as good a time as any to ask, and set her fork down carefully.

“Father?” she began tentatively.

Uther glanced her way, expression unreadable. It was unusual for Elaine to begin a conversation at dinner; she usually only spoke when spoken to. “Mmm?”

“How does a woman come to be with child?”

Arthur, who had just taken a drink, choked violently on his wine, spraying it onto his plate and turning crimson as he coughed. Morgana meanwhile looked as if both Beltane and the summer solstice had come early.

“What on earth have you been…” Uther began with a frown, but Elaine pressed on with the air of a curious scholar, still astonished by what she had learned.

“Only, I thought one had to be married first, that is how I had understood it. But I heard some of the squires talking today about Lady Aelgifu’s daughter, and apparently marriage isn’t even a requirement—”

Arthur looked over to Uther in utter horror, still beating a fist against his chest as he coughed.

“Elaine,” Uther said sharply. “That is not a subject for the dinner table!”

“But I don’t understand…”

Morgana leaned across the table eagerly, a mischievous grin lighting up her face. “Have you ever seen a stallion with a mare, dearest? It is much the same. You see, a man must mount you and put his—”

“Morgana!” Uther thundered, slamming a fist against the table. Morgana merely laughed, delighted by his outrage.

Elaine’s brows knit together in confusion. She turned to Arthur, who looked suddenly alarmed. “Arthur, do you know?”

Arthur pressed a horrified hand over his eyes. “Dear gods, someone shut her up!”

“That is quite enough!” Uther snapped, glaring pointedly at Elaine. “I do not want to hear another word on the matter! Not one word! And if I hear of you listening to such inappropriate gossip again I will have you confined to your chambers!”

Chastened, Elaine lowered her eyes, thoroughly confused, and silence settled uncomfortably around them as they continued the meal. Morgana’s foot nudged hers under the table and, as Elaine looked up, she winked conspiratorially. I’ll tell you later, her expression said.

Sure enough, once they had changed for bed and were safely ensconced in Morgana’s chambers, the bed curtains drawn around them, Elaine listened with widened eyes as Morgana gleefully explained, perhaps in more detail than was strictly necessary, how a woman came to be with child.

“But is that not…terribly uncomfortable?” asked Elaine weakly, horrified by the thought. “I mean how does it even fit? And…why does no one explain these things?”

“Because they believe if a woman knows, she may be tempted to enjoy herself before she is wed,” said Morgana wryly. “And you, little flower, must be kept pure and innocent until they choose a suitable Prince to marry you off to! Your maidenhead has great value to the kingdom! At least as a ward, I’m likely to have a bit of a say in who I’ll marry! You’ll have no such luck.”

“You know the servants all expect you shall marry Arthur?” Elaine said teasingly. Privately, she had often wondered if there was more to their continual sniping and banter. “Gwen thinks you will make a very lovely queen.”

“Perish the thought!” Morgana said with a smirk. “I’d smother him with a pillow before the first week was out!”

“He’ll need a sensible wife!” said Elaine earnestly. “He’s become so terribly arrogant lately. He needs someone to keep him in his place, and no one does that better than you. And at least you would get to stay in Camelot. Goodness only knows where I shall be sent off to…and I will have to let them do that to me!”

“Well it’s either that or a convent, little flower, and you’re far too pretty to be a nun. Perhaps someone will ask for your favour at the tournament. It would do you good to be flirted with a little,” Morgana teased.

“Lady Isabella says that Arthur is supposed to ask for it,” Elaine sighed, before mimicking her governess’ clipped voice. “As the prince has no wife and is not yet betrothed, it is only proper that he should wear his sister’s favour. She has had me memorise all of the great lineages to ensure I do not cheer for anyone improper!”

At this Morgana laughed heartily. “You’ve never done anything improper in your entire life, Elaine. You are so very good that it would be quite sickening, if I did not love you so much.”

At this Elaine smiled and leaned her head against Morgana’s shoulder. “If you are queen before I’m wed,” she murmured, though she had to admit it was not likely. “Make Arthur give me to someone kind!”

On the morning of the tournament’s opening, Elaine followed Morgana down to the grounds, where the stands had been set up. Gwen came with them, thanks to Morgana’s intervention. Morgana was wonderful at doing things like that; when there was an occasion she thought Gwen would enjoy, like a pageant or a reception – she would insist she couldn’t possibly do without her maid and so inevitably Gwen would end up accompanying them. Elaine was always delighted when that happened; Gwen was warm, kind and funny and she enjoyed her company. Her own maid was an older, maternal woman called Edyth, and somehow Elaine felt that if she tried to say she wanted Edyth with her, Lady Isabella would simply decide that Elaine must remain at her side at all times.

They took their seats at the front of the stand, Morgana sitting between Elaine and Gwen. The ground had been laid for the battles, a wooden stand off to the side showing a replica of each knight’s shield crest, allocating their opponents for each bout. Elaine smiled as she saw her brother’s red and gold, and then looked through the list, thinking back to her lessons with Lady Isabella.

Wessex, Rheged, Mercia, Northumbria, Kent, Gwenydd…she paused as she spotted a yellow shield emblazoned with dark green serpents. She could not place that crest. She must have forgotten. She could ask Lady Isabella, sitting in the rows behind them, but she would only be scolded for not paying close enough attention. She supposed she would find out soon enough.

“Here we go!” said Morgana, clearly excited, and the knights began to file into ring.

Elaine looked for Arthur and she could tell at once that her brother was feeling the pressure. His jaw was tight, his face slightly pale. Though Arthur could be arrogant and bossy and sometimes unkind, she knew that he feared disappointing their father as much as she did. She crossed her fingers under the folds of her pale green dress and hoped that he would defeat anyone he faced.

Everyone fell silent as Uther Pendragon walked into the ring, as fearsome as any of the armoured knights themselves. Elaine knew that her father had once been accounted a fierce warrior in his day. She was frightened enough of him as it was, in armour he must have been terrifying!

“Knights of the realm,” began the king. “It is a great honour to welcome you to the tournament at Camelot. Over the next three days, you will come to put your bravery to the test, your skills as warriors, and of course, to challenge the reigning champion, my son, Prince Arthur. Only one can have the honour of being crowned champion, and he will receive a prize of one thousand gold pieces.”

As Uther gestured, a box at the side of the ring was opened to reveal the glittering contents within. The crowd ‘oooohed’ appreciatively. It was no small prize!

“It is in combat,” continued Uther “That we learn a knight's true nature, whether he is indeed a warrior or a coward.”

Privately, Elaine reflected that she much preferred the stories where knights were respected for their courtly manners, defending the weak, and staying faithful to their true loves. It was so much nicer than being venerated for beating each other half to death!

“Let the tournament begin! May each man seek a favour of his choosing, should he wish it.”

Arthur, as Lady Isabella had deemed appropriate, approached Elaine. “Sister, will you do me the honour?” he asked, though he did not seem especially enthused by the idea.

“It is gladly given,” Elaine dutifully recited and approached to tie her ribbon, the same pale green as her dress, around the mailed bicep of his sword arm.

“Good luck, Arthur,” she whispered, for his ears only. “I know you can win!” He pretended she had not spoken.

Various other knights were securing favours from their own retinue, or else approaching some of the court ladies of Camelot. Elaine thought perhaps Sir Bors or Sir Kay might ask Morgana for hers but before they could approach her, a tall dark haired man cloaked in yellow, carrying the shield she had been unable to place, had done so first.

“It would be a great honour to carry the favour of the most beautiful woman in the crowd,” he said smoothly. “If my lady would venture to do to her humble servant such an honour.”

Morgana smiled. Elaine and Gwen shared a glance and a grimace. Arthur stiffened from where he had secured Elaine’s ribbon in place.

“I do so like a man who knows how to ask for what he wants,” Morgana said, her voice honey-warm. “You do me a great honour, Sir. Indeed you may have it. May it bring you luck!”

With their tokens suitably secured, the knights shed their capes and returned to the centre of the ring to take note of their opponents.

“He oozed like a toad!” hissed Elaine to Morgana. “Did you give him your favour just to annoy Arthur?”

“Would I do such a thing?” Morgana smiled archly. “I like his boldness.”

“But he was so…” Elaine struggled to find the right word. “Blech!”

“Bless you, dearest, you really are an innocent baby,” Morgana chuckled, though not unkindly, but whatever else we was going to say was lost as Uther came to take his seat beside them and Arthur’s first bout began.

Elaine watched anxiously as he brother attacked and blocked and circled his opponent. She longed to cover her eyes but did not dare with her father sat so close by.

She looked briefly away and spotted a familiar set of ears peeking around the corner of the stand. Merlin was smiling, cheering Arthur on and clapping with every successful strike. He looked up, saw her gazing his way and shot her a cheery wave. He seemed to have got over his aversion to armour now that he was not the one being beaten!

On and on and on it went until, at last, Arthur was victorious and the crowd erupted in cheers for their prince. Elaine let out a sigh of relief and clapped fervently for her brother, who had lifted his sword in triumph. Uther clapped with great satisfaction, pride for Arthur in every line of his face, even if he would seldom say so aloud.

Her brother’s safety secured, at least for the rest of the day, Elaine daydreamed through the rest of the bouts as much as she could, entertained in the interim by Morgana’s comments about each knight’s bearing, looks and skill. The man who wore Morgana’s favour, Knight Valiant, won his bout and would advance to the next round too. So concluded the battles for the day.

“It is time for you ladies to retire and get ready for the reception,” a clipped voice sounded behind them. Lady Isabella.

Elaine rose obediently, Morgana more slowly with a roll of her eyes. She and Lady Isabella did not get on. Lady Isabella thought Morgana an ‘uppity minx’, Morgana said Lady Isabella was a “miserable old bat”. She, Morgana, was at least old enough now that she did not attend formal lessons with her anymore, unlike poor Elaine.

Up in her room, Elaine chattered to Edyth as she was laced into a gown of pale lavender. Most of her gowns were pale colours; Lady Isabella said that with her fair colouring, strong shades would wash her out.

“I heard his Highness your brother fought well today,” Edyth said as she tightened Elaine’s bodice. She had looked after Elaine since she was six and was the only person who Elaine didn’t mind speaking to her as though she was a child.

“He was very brave,” Elaine said as she brushed out her hair. “I am certain he will win!”

“It'll have been your favour that brought him luck, I’m sure, sweeting,” Edyth said fondly, turning her round. “There now, you’ll do nicely. You can tell me all about it when you prepare for bed. Be sure to dance plenty! And don’t let anyone tread on your toes!”

In the great hall, before they were due to eat, each knight was presented to King Uther, and thereafter to Elaine and Morgana. Each time they exchanged polite greetings, curtseys, and passive remarks about nothing in particular.

Then Elaine saw a yellow cloak approaching.  

“Knight Valiant of the Western Isles, my lord,” he introduced himself to Uther.

But wasn’t the Western Isles’ crest yellow with a green chevron, not serpents? Elaine sighed; Lady Isabella would be so cross that after all those afternoons over the crests she was misremembering them.

She watched with interest as Morgana was presented to Valiant. Not content with bowing, he was so bold as to actually kiss her hand.

“You fought well today,” Morgana said, her voice almost coy.

“For I knew my lady was watching,” Valiant replied smoothly and Elaine fought the urge to scrunch up her nose. “Is it true that the champion is given the honour to escort you to the feast?”

“It is indeed,” Morgana smiled.

“Then I shall fight all the harder so that I may be the man!” he vowed.

Next he was presented to Elaine. “My lady,” he touched her hand briefly and Elaine had to fight the urge to wipe it on the side of her skirt.

Next came Arthur and Elaine rolled her eyes as he and Morgana immediately began to snipe at each other.

“They all seem rather impressed by Knight Valiant.”

“They're not the only ones!”

“You're not jealous, are you, Arthur?

“I don't see there's anything to be jealous of.” Arthur shot back spitefully and then moved to Elaine, perfunctorily kissing her cheek.

“You are horrible!” she told him flatly.

“And you are a silly little girl,” he returned, though without much heat. “Though I’m glad to see that you at least have better sense than to be mooning over Valiant!”

“I don’t like him, Arthur,” Elaine murmured. “He makes my skin crawl.”

“Good girl,” Arthur snorted, and went to join the other knights.

When the accusations against Sir Valiant arose, Elaine immediately believed Merlin. It wasn’t just that she instinctively didn’t like Valiant, while Merlin was her friend. Something in her innately, unshakably believed Merlin. Yes, she had only known him a week, but there was something so utterly, inexplicably sincere in him that she knew immediately he was telling the truth.

Her father had no such certainty.

Elaine’s stomach plummeted as Merlin’s accusations went unproven and Arthur was forced apologise. She knew her brother’s pride, knew how much it would cost him to be thought to be making excuses against a strong opponent.

She sought him out later, finding Arthur pacing his chambers, brooding and humiliated. “Not now, Elaine,” he snapped. “Whatever you want to twitter about, save it for another day.”

 “Arthur, please,” she said softly. “I am sure Merlin is telling the truth!”

“I listened to him and now I look like a fool. Like a coward!” Arthur raged. “He humiliated me. You saw Father’s face!”

“I believe him,” Elaine insisted. “He’s your servant, why would he have cause to…”

“He was my servant,” Arthur ground out.

“You sacked him?!” Elaine cried in alarm. “Arthur, how could you?”

“Don’t start Elaine!” her brother snapped impatiently, temper rising. “I can’t stand it when you bleat! Have you any idea how annoying you are?”

“You think Sir Ewan just happened to mysteriously die when Merlin said he could back up his story? You think he just happened be paralysed after fighting Valiant?” Elaine cried. “Merlin is trying to save you, you stupid, arrogant prat!”

Arthur was so surprised by her words that his temper vanished momentarily. He blinked in astonishment. He was used to insults from Morgana but Elaine had never dared. “What did you just call me?”

“You can’t fight him, Arthur!” Words were pouring out of Elaine now. “He’ll kill you. You can’t defeat magic! You mustn’t fight him!”

“What would you have me do?” Arthur sighed wearily. “Withdraw? Look a coward? Let everyone down? You know that is not an option!”

“Is your pride more important to you than your life?!” she cried in tearful frustration.

“It’s all that matters!” Arthur shouted back. “Do you not understand what is expected of me? It’s easy for you to say, you have no pride…no, wait, Elaine! I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Merlin’s right, you know!” Elaine said, stung, as she turned away and headed to the door. “You really are a colossal ass!”

On the tournament's final day, the stands were packed to bursting.  Arthur was to fight Sir Valiant.

Elaine sat beside Morgana once more, anxiously wringing her hands. Morgana, too, looked pale and worried. She had had such nightmares the night before that her shrieking had woken Elaine in the chamber next door, who had come running and curled in beside her till dawn.

As the fight began, the girls could hardly bear to watch; their separate annoyances with Arthur forgotten in their worry for him. Arthur was strong and fast and brave, but Valiant was aggressive and hard. And all three of them – Elaine, Morgana and Gwen – were now convinced that he was cheating.

The crowd roared with each blow. Arthur knocked Valiant’s helmet off, then took off his own; casting it aside and pulling back his mail hood.

“What is he doing?” Morgana hissed in alarm. “Of all the times to be gentlemanly, he chooses now?!”

Elaine could hardly speak. Her heart was thudding so hard in her ribs she thought they must all surely hear it. Valiant dealt Arthur a hard blow to the chin with his shield which sending him staggering back. She leapt to her feet in alarm, dignity be damned. But even Uther was too focussed on Arthur’s safety to care how his daughter was acting.

Valiant pinned Arthur hard against a wall; before Arthur managed to evade him. But he was swordless now, shieldless too, oh gods above, Elaine could not bear to watch the next moment!

Something in the corner of her eye caught her attention. It was Merlin, pale and exhausted looking, as though he had not slept. He was watching Arthur frantically from the edge of the ring. His lips were moving, but it did not look like he was shouting encouragement.

The crowd gasped and shrieked and Elaine’s attention was drawn back to the fight. Her hand flew to her mouth. Two serpents were emerging from Valiant’s shield, coiling onto the ground and then swaying and hissing towards her brother. He had no sword…he had no sword!

“Arthur!” Morgana seized a sword from one of the knights guarding Uther and threw to Arthur, who caught it deftly. He dispatched the snakes with one blow and then drove his sword into Valiant’s chest.

Elaine slumped back down into her seat, weak with relief, as the crowd erupted for Arthur. Everyone was on their feet, clapping and cheering. Her Father looked torn between relief, pride and delight. Arthur, sweaty and tired, stood in the middle for a moment, soaking in the shrieks of the crowd who made their love for him known.

But as everyone else stared at Arthur, Elaine found her eyes straying back to the side of the ring. To Merlin.

Whose lips had been moving just before the serpents appeared.

Arthur, champion again, was given the honour of escorting Morgana into the closing feast and Elaine smiled at the look of pride on her father’s face as he announced Arthur's arrival to the hall. She was already standing at the high table, and clapped out of both duty and genuine love as Arthur and Morgana made their way down the middle of the room, a study in contrasts but each dazzling in their own way. It never occurred to her to be resentful of her permanent place in their shadow – after all, they were both so wonderful.

Until they began bickering again, inevitably, and parted ways.

“Honestly, could Arthur be any more annoying?” Morgana said as she came to stand beside Elaine. “Too proud to admit he was saved by a girl! Honestly he’s so fat headed I’m surprised he made it through the door! He’ll probably spend the prize money on a mirror, just so he can admire himself some more.”

Elaine snorted despite her best intentions. “You were worried about him for a while at least!”

“I shouldn’t have bothered,” replied Morgana breezily. “It would have saved us his bragging! Do you think he’s even going to bother apologising to Merlin?”

“I hope so!” said Elaine quietly, looking over to where Arthur was talking to the young man in question.

“Now I’m rehiring you,” he was saying. “My chambers are a complete mess, my clothes need washing, my armour needs repairing, my boots need cleaning, my fireplace needs sweeping. And fetch me some wine, would you Merlin?”

“Your brother,” Merlin whispered with a grin as he passed her to fetch the wine. “Is an ass!”

And you Merlin, Elaine wondered thoughtfully as she stared after her friend. She knew that he had saved Arthur’s life. Again. What is it that you are?

Chapter Text

It had become routine for Elaine to find her way to the training yard in the precious free hours of her afternoon, embroidery hoop and needle in hand - though neither ever saw much use. Instead, she would perch quietly on the same bale of hay as Merlin, her skirts pooled about her, and spend most of the time chatting to him, watching Arthur and the knights spar and train.

After all the drama and the excitement of the tournament, it seemed that everything was returning to some sort of semblance of normality. Arthur had gone back to being bossy and arrogant, Merlin insulted him every time he opened his mouth, Morgana relayed all the court gossip deemed too scandalous for Elaine’s ears, and Uther presided over everything with iron will.

Today was no different. On the training field, Arthur and Leon were circling one another carefully, swords and shields in hand, their mail flashing in the sun.

“I swear,” Merlin grumbled. “I’ll be seeing that armour in my sleep. I spend more time with it than anyone else!”

“Well, it’s…very fine armour,” Elaine complimented him with mock solemnity, “Very…shiny!”

“Well I’m glad someone appreciates me!” Merlin replied, the same pretend gravity deepening his voice. “All he does is bash it all up again!”

“You may get a little respite soon,” Elaine commented, her eyes back on Arthur and Leon. “King Bayard’s visit is in a couple of weeks and Lady Isabella wants us to practice all the court dances and the masque. She will have Arthur, Leon, Guy and Kay recruited soon enough to put them through their paces. She wants to be sure we will not all disgrace Camelot, especially me… Bayard has four sons and I think she hopes Father will promise me to one of them. I’m to be measured for a new gown this evening – I must be dressed up and put on show, like a heifer at the market.”

“Well you’ll be a very nice-looking heifer, I’m sure,” Merlin said companionably, then looked horrified. “That…came out wrong. I didn’t mean…”

“It’s all right,” Elaine smiled wryly. “I grew up with Arthur, I have been called far worse!”

As if summoned by her comment, a tall, disapproving shadow fell across them and they looked up to see Arthur standing there, looking thoroughly displeased.

“If you have enough time to be sitting around gossiping like a girl with my sister, Merlin,” he grumbled. “Then I clearly don’t give you enough work to do!”

“I can’t see that there is much else left that you can have me doing!” Merlin snapped back. “Unless you want me to start breathing for you as well! I’d suggest thinking for you, but you don’t do much of that anyway.”

Elaine stifled a giggle and Arthur rounded on her with a frown. “As for you, little mouse, go back inside and embroider something. This isn’t a place for you to linger!”

Elaine flushed, quickly gathering her sewing. “I only wanted to watch.”

“I don’t need my servant distracted by twittering girls,” Arthur huffed, though there was little bite in his grumbling. “Off you go.”

Elaine obeyed quietly, glancing back at Merlin who made a face at Arthur the second his back was turned. Laughing quietly to herself, Elaine slipped away. There was something else she meant to do this afternoon anyway.

The hood of her cloak drawn low over her eyes, Elaine hurriedly made her way through the streets of the lower town with a posy of flowers from the castle gardens clutched in one hand and a basket in the other. She kept her head down, meeting no one’s gaze, minimising the risk of being spotted. She knew Morgana would have come with her if she had asked it, but Morgana had slept poorly again the night before and so Elaine had left the older girl to some much-needed rest in Gwen’s care.

She stopped at a familiar wooden door and knocked quietly. After a short delay, it was opened and a kind, wrinkled face beamed out at Elaine.

“Oh my darling, it is so lovely to see you! Come in, come in!”

Elaine slipped into the doorway, closed it behind her, and was immediately wrapped in a warm embrace.

Mistress Jennet had been her wet nurse when she was a baby following the death of her mother Queen Rowena when she was six months old. She had looked after Elaine until she was six, when she was deemed old enough to be turned over to Lady Isabella’s watchful tutelage and given her own maid as befits a princess of Camelot.

Jennet’s kind face was one of Elaine’s earliest memories. She had treated Elaine as though she were a daughter, soothing every distress and surrounding her with warmth and affection. Elaine loved her dearly and continued to see her as much as she could, even after Jennet had left employment at the castle a few years ago due to her rheumatism. She never mentioned it to Uther, knowing her Father would coldly disapprove, but sometimes Arthur (when he was in a good mood) could be persuaded to take her down into the city to visit.

Elaine had heard that Jennet had had a bad attack of said rheumatism, which was what had prompted this hurried visit without a chaperone.

“Aren’t you looking as pretty as a May flower!” Jennet said fondly, hobbling stiffly as she waved Elaine into the main room of her house. “Come sit and I will get you…”

“No, no!” Elaine said hurriedly, assisting Jennet to a chair. “You are unwell. Let me see to everything. I’ve brought you some food from the castle so you need not cook tonight. And I will ask Gaius to send you down something for the pain. Merlin will bring it, I am sure, if I ask him.”

“You’re a good girl,” Jennet smiled at her, wincing as she sat down. “It’s done me a world of good just to see you! Merlin? That's not a name I know from my time. Is he new?”

Elaine chatted lightly to Jennet as she unpacked the supplies she had brought, telling her all about Merlin and how he had saved Arthur from a sorceress, before finding a jug in which to arrange the flowers she’d brought. She winced as she snagged her finger on a thorn, blood welling immediately.

“Oh my dear, let me…”

“It’s all right,” Elaine assured her at once. “Only a small scratch!”

“Be sure to bathe it,” Jennet instructed her. “We don’t want you getting infected! There’s a pitcher of water just there on the counter. Young Edgar from the carters fetched it for me from the well this morning.”

Elaine smiled at the woman’s fond fussing and dutifully went to rinse her bleeding finger.

The following morning dawned pale and cool. Arthur, Morgana and Elaine joined Uther for breakfast in his solar, the early light filtering gently through the tall windows. Arthur was grumbling about being recruited for Lady Isabella’s dancing practice, while a tired looking Morgana picked at her food.

Elaine had just taken a mouthful of bread and honey when Uther levelled her with a cold, stern look and asked: “Where we you yesterday, Elaine?”

The bread seemed to turn to stone in Elaine’s mouth. She swallowed heavily, her stomach beginning to somersault.

“I…I was watching Arthur train, Father,” she said, choosing her words carefully. She did not dare lie – the consequences would be too awful. “And Lady Isabella had me fitted for a new gown last night.”

Uther’s hand struck the table sharply and Elaine jumped in fearful alarm. Morgana and Arthur watched him anxiously, sensing that trouble was coming. “Do not prevaricate with me, child!” he thundered. “You were seen in the lower town. Alone.”

Elaine felt her face blanch, the remainder of her bread falling softly onto the plate. She stared down, heart racing in terror. He knew. He knew. Oh gods…someone had seen her, despite all her precautions. Her stomach twisted sharply. “Father, I was only…”

“Answer me clearly,” Uther said, icily dangerous. “Did you, or did you not, go alone into the city?”

Elaine swallowed hard, trembling. “Yes. My old nurse, Jennet, she had an attack of rheumatism…”

“You disobeyed me deliberately,” Uther’s voice cut her off, each syllable precise with cold anger. “For an old servant woman?”

“She is in a great deal of pain! I wanted to bring her some flowers – I was only there a moment and I…”

“Come here!” Uther commanded, pushing his chair back.

Elaine’s eyes widened, tears flooding instantly as her stomach dropped. She knew it was coming, but at least she was normally afforded the dignity of being punished in her own chambers in private. Her voice broke pleadingly, desperate. “Please, Father…please…not here!” 

Arthur and Morgana exchanged quick, horrified glances.

“Father,” Arthur began urgently. Though he told Elaine she was a nuisance at least fifteen times a week, he was always the first to intercede on her behalf when punishment loomed. “She was foolish, but she’s done no harm. She’s sorry, aren’t you Elaine? Just send her to bed for the day. She’s a soft-hearted girl, that's all, I am sure she did not mean any trouble.”

Morgana’s voice was sharper, openly angry. “You can’t punish her for being kind!”

Uther’s eyes blazed at their united show of defiance. “Enough!” he shouted angrily, before looking at his trembling youngest child. “Come here. Now.”

Elaine rose slowly, helpless tears already streaming down her cheeks. She approached Uther, desperately trying not to weep like a coward, though her knees threatened to buckle. He wasted no time—he seized her arm and pulled her sharply down across his lap. Her skirts were tugged up, and before Elaine could even draw breath, his hand descended sharply against her defenceless skin. The crack seemed to echo in the silent room, followed immediately by her wail of pain.

Arthur looked away, jaw so tight it verged on cracking. He stared pointedly at the fireplace, trying to afford his sister a sliver of dignity and privacy. This did nothing to drown out the sounds though, as blow after blow landed and Elaine sobbed and pleaded for mercy, her slippered feet drumming against the floor.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she wailed. “I won’t…owwww…please, Father! Owww! Please, no more!”

Morgana trembled in silent rage so overpowering it almost choked her, her own eyes glistening with sympathetic tears.

Finally, Uther released her. Elaine stood up shakily, her face a mess of tears. She hastily smoothed her skirts down, frantically trying to gulp back sobs. She could not bear to look at Arthur or Morgana.

“Go to your chambers,” Uther ordered coldly. “You will not leave them until I give you permission.”

Elaine only nodded, beyond speech, and miserably fled the room.

After breakfast, Arthur quickly summoned Merlin to his rooms, and shoved a small ceramic jar into his hands.

“Listen, I am needed in the Council in a moment to discuss the Mercian visit, but take this to Elaine will you, Merlin? Immediately. She’s in her chambers.”

Merlin looked down in confusion. It was a numbing balm, the one Arthur used when they’d been on horseback all day and he was saddle-sore. “I didn’t realise Lady Elaine had been riding…”

“She hasn’t,” Arthur said pointedly, a muscle jumping in his jaw. “But she needs it all the same.”

“Oh.” Realisation set in and Merlin’s face fell.

 “Look, just bring it to her, Merlin,” Arthur said tersely as he got ready to leave the room. “Don’t ask her questions and don’t embarrass her. She was very upset.”

Merlin nodded soberly, watching him depart. But before he headed down the corridor towards Elaine’s rooms, he hurried down the backstairs to the kitchen and, finding the baker distracted in an argument with the head cook, quickly swiped two freshly baked honey cakes, threw a napkin over them and rushed back up the stairs again before anyone had noticed he was there.

He retraced his steps, heading down the corridor past Arthur's door and towards Elaine’s chambers. He knocked quietly and after a short moment the door opened slightly. Elaine, puffy eyed, with tear tracks still glistening on her cheeks, looked up in surprise and Merlin’s heart squeezed angrily at the sight of her. How he hated Uther Pendragon!

She stood aside wordlessly to let him in, then quietly closed the door after him

“Arthur sent this,” Merlin murmured, pressing the jar gently into her hands. “He thought it might help you a little.”

Elaine’s lips quivered, eyes filling anew with grateful and embarrassed tears. “Thank you.”

He hesitated, then withdrew the cakes from beneath the napkin and offered them to her. “And these are from me. Thought you could probably be done with something nice.”

Elaine laughed softly despite herself, blinking the tears away. “You’re very kind, Merlin, thank you.”

He stayed very briefly (he knew Gaius would be waiting for him), chatting gently until Elaine had eaten the cakes and was smiling weakly again, her misery easing slightly under Merlin’s determination to cheer her up.

“Merlin, could you ask Gaius…please…. if he would take a tincture for rheumatic pain to my old nurse Jennet. He knows where she lives. I would ask him myself but Father says I am not to leave my chambers. If I disobey, he will…” she swallowed.

“Of course,” Merlin said reassuringly, patting her arm. “We’re going down to the lower town today anyway; I will make sure she gets it. Please cheer up, I hate seeing you looking so sad.”

“He doesn’t think she matters,” said Elaine miserably, moving to brush the crumbs from her hands. She staggered slightly.

“Hey!” Merlin quickly caught and steadied her. “You all right? Oh, you’ve hurt your hard! That cut looks angry.”

Elaine nodded. “It was only a scratch. I brought Jennet some flowers and I missed a thorn, that’s all. Don’t worry, I did clean it.  I’m just tired, I think. It’s been a long morning. I think perhaps I’ll have a rest.”

Late in the afternoon, Morgana slipped quietly into Elaine’s room, sitting on the edge of the bed, where Elaine was reclining drowsily. She reached out to smooth down Elaine’s fair hair, her voice tender. “Are you feeling any better?”

Elaine sighed, leaning into her touch. “A little.”

Morgana’s eyes darkened bitterly. “He shouldn’t treat you so cruelly. He is heartless!”

“I was disobedient,” Elaine shrugged flatly.

“You were compassionate,” Morgana corrected fiercely, lying down beside her wrapping an arm around her. “Never apologise for kindness. God knows you are the only Pendragon with any at all. And he wouldn't have done that to me or Arthur! But your father will hopefully stay off your back for a while – there is a fever rife in the lower town – two have died already - and they think it’s caused by sorcery!”

“Sorcery?” cried Elaine in alarm. “Jennet…”

“Is perfectly well,” Morgana assured her quickly. “Gwen spoke to Merlin earlier and she said he’d dropped off the medicine to her. She was all right. You look terribly pale though, little flower.”

“I’m very tired,” Elaine admitted, gladly burrowing against Morgana’s warmth.

“Well, you just rest,” Morgana soothed her. “I’ll stay a while. Uther has Arthur scouring the city high and low or I am sure he would have come to see you. Your brother might be an oaf, but he does care about you.”

Elaine smiled faintly at the warmth in Morgana’s tone, belying her words, and drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, Merlin was woken early by a sharp, frantic pounding on the door to Gaius’s chambers. It had been late before he had gone to bed, between seeing to Arthur and helping Gaius examine Lady Anna. She had been the first noble to die and it had helped Gaius conclude that the poison must be in the water.

Struggling into his shirt, he hurried to open the door before whoever was pounding so fiercely took it off the hinges.

It was Edyth, Elaine’s maid, and she looked utterly frantic. A plump, maternal woman in her forties, her red hair threaded with silver, Merlin had never seen her look anything but cheerful.

“Merlin, you must fetch Gaius and you must come quickly!” she urged, her voice trembling. “It’s my lady!”

Merlin’s blood ran cold. “Gaius! Gaius you need to come, hurry! It’s Elaine!”

Not waiting for the elderly physician to follow, Merlin took off up the stairs as fast as his legs could carry him, Edyth hot on his heels.

Merlin burst into the room to find a tearful Morgana, still in her nightgown, and a very pale faced Arthur by Elaine’s bed. In the bed itself, Elaine lay shivering beneath the covers. Her hair was soaked with sweat. Her skin was waxy very pale. The faintest traces of blue, like cracks on fine porcelain, traced the edges of her face.

“She was like this when I arrived this morning,” Edyth said tremulously. “I could not rouse her!”

“It’s the same symptoms as the people who have died, isn’t it?” Arthur asked Merlin hoarsely.

“Oh, Elaine!” Morgana stifled a sob.

Gaius, having had to take the stairs, more slowly, arrived and began to gently examine Elaine. “Elaine? Elaine, my dear, can you open your eyes for me?”

Elaine’s lashes fluttered but she muttered something unintelligible and showed no further signs of awareness.

“You said the fever kills in twenty four hours,” Arthur said. His voice was brittle, terse, but Merlin could see the storm of emotion in his eyes. He was just as distressed as Morgana, who showed it more openly. “Is that how long she has?”

Gaius examined her puzzledly. “So far that is what I have observed, but it does not seem to be advanced quite so quickly in her.” He picked up Elaine’s limp hand, which showed much more blue webbing than her face, and stared closely at an angry looking cut on her finger.

“She said she cut it when she brought flowers to her nurse,” Merlin hurriedly explained, unable to look away from Elaine’s pallid face. “But she said she cleaned it immediately.”

“Likely with water from the lower town,” Gaius said gravely, and Merlin, Arthur and Morgana exchanged panicked glances. “It seems the only differences; those who have so far died ingested the water, whereas with Elaine the contaminant has reached her via a cut. It’s the only explanation for the slower progression.”

“That’s…good, isn’t it?” pleaded Morgana desperately, a tear rolling down her face. “So she might survive it?”

“I fear not, my lady,” Gaius told her gently. “The disease is still the same, it’s progress only slower. Unless I can find a cure, I fear Elaine will still die, but it may simply take longer than the others.”

“What?”

The small crowd in the room looked round as one to see the tall figure of Uther Pendragon in the doorway. He was dressed, but he wore no cape, no crown as yet. His eyes were riveted to the pale figure of Elaine in the bed and Merlin watched the colour drain out of the king’s face.

“It is the same illness?” he asked Gaius, voice strangely diminished. “You are sure?”

“I’m afraid so, sire,” Gaius responded gravely. “I will do everything I can for her, but without understanding the source of the poison I have no way to cure her. It seems to be advancing more slowly with her, but only slightly.”

“How long does she have?” Uther asked tightly.

“Two days perhaps,” Gaius said softly. “Maybe three.”

Uther drew in a deep breath and seemed to forcibly swallow down any trace of emotion. He turned to Arthur, his eyes hard, fierce and dry. “You will redouble your efforts!” he ordered. “You will leave no stone unturned in this city until the sorcerer is found, do you understand? Your sister’s life depends on it!”

Arthur swallowed. “Of course Father.”

“See to it immediately!” Uther ordered. “Gaius, you will do everything in your power to work towards a cure. In the meantime, she is to have whatever she needs.”

“Bathe her forehead, try to keep her cool,” Gaius instructed Edyth. “Call for me if there is any change.”

Edyth dropped a curtsey and rushed off to get what she needed. Morgana was sent off to dress, still in tears. Arthur, his eyes suspiciously shiny, leaned over and squeezed Elaine’s hand gently before he left the room. Gaius gathered his bag and left the room, gesturing for Merlin to follow him. This, for the briefest of moments, left Merlin in the room alone with Uther and Elaine.

The king had not noticed he was still there. He had sat down on the edge of Elaine’s bed and, to Merlin’s shock, brushed her sodden hair back from her forehead with a gentle hand.

“My poor, foolish girl,” he whispered.

He does love her, Merlin reflected as he slipped quietly from the room. So does Arthur. But neither of them have the faintest idea how to show it when she is awake!

The sound of more tears suddenly snapped him out of his musings and he found Gwen pleading with Gaius at the bottom of the stairs. Her father was ill now too, she said.

“Please Gaius, he’s all I have!” she wept desperately.

“Gwen, I have no cure,” Gaius answered her, looking pained.

“I am begging you!” Gwen pleaded, her eyes wide and pained. Merlin hated to see her look so broken. Such a look did not belong on Gwen’s face.

Gaius looked no happier than he. “I wish there was something, anything, I could do; but so far the remedy is beyond what I can achieve.”

Merlin took a deep breath, coming to an angry, determined resolution. All the people he cared most about in Camelot were in misery today. There was little he could do for Elaine, given that she was right under Uther’s nose, but perhaps he could at least help Gwen…

And that, of course, was when things all went to hell.

Morgana had felt herself trapped in a nightmare since she had first seen the waxy pallor on Elaine’s face. And since then, things had got steadily worse. It had been a whole day – Elaine had grown frailer and frailer and Morgana did not need Gaius’s skill as a physician to know that her beloved little flower did not have long left.

In his despair, Uther was growing even harder and colder, though Morgana had not thought it possible. Arthur was beside himself, desperate to pull off a miraculous last minute solution to save Elaine’s life.

But they were looking in the wrong direction…they had arrested Gwen, whose father had been ill and had mysteriously got better.

Morgana had reluctantly left Elaine’s bedside and ran to the throne room as soon as Edyth had informed her of what had happened. She could hear Gwen’s pleas before she even crossed the threshold.

“Please listen to me! I have done nothing, please! I swear I haven't done anything!

Morgana entered to see Uther, his face looking as though it were carved out of granite, pat Arthur on the shoulder. “Well done.”

Gwen turned a helpless, desperate face to Morgana as she entered. “Why will no one believe me?! He got better…he just recovered. I didn't do anything!

With the exception of Elaine, there was no one in Camelot Morgana knew so well as Gwen. Gwen was gentle, humble, sweet and considerate. She put others first always, never looking for reward. Her heart was kind through and through. There was no way that she was responsible for the plague.

“I believe you,” Morgana told her firmly, coming to stand protectively at Gwen’s side. She lifted her gaze to Uther and Arthur. The elder Pendragon looked furious, Arthur looked heartsick. “Perhaps this is a disease that is not always fatal. Have you thought of that? Perhaps he recovered naturally! Gaius said it can proceed differently in people!”

“And what of this poultice that was found?” Uther demanded impatiently.

“What poultice?” Gwen cried frantically, shaking her head in denial, her hands wringing. “I don't know anything about a poultice!”

“It was found in your house!” Uther thundered at her.  “Undo this enchantment. Put an end to this contagion! Release your hold on my daughter!”

“I can't!” Gwen sobbed wretchedly. Morgana reached out to take her hand, trying to offer whatever meagre comfort she could.

“I will show you no mercy!” Uther growled. Morgana’s heart thundered. She knew he was speaking the truth. Uther was not a merciful man at the best of times, but at the moment he seemed to exude menace.

“But I am not a witch!” Gwen burst out. “I don't know how to stop the illness!”

“If you will not undo your sorcery, you force my hand and I must find you guilty...” Uther began.

“But I told you, I...”

“It is therefore my duty to pronounce judgment,” He continued over her. “And under the circumstances I have no choice but to sentence you to death.

“No!” The exclamation burst out of Gwen’s chest, tears dripping from her chin. Morgana wanted to scream.

“I can only hope that when you die, this evil plague dies with you,” Uther said. “Take her away!”

Two guards seized Gwen by her arms, dragging her out of the room as she struggled desperately in their grasp. Gwen’s voice could be heard fading down the corridor: “Please, no! I'm innocent! Please, please, no! Please help me! Please, I beg you! No!”

Every drop of Morgana’s blood seemed to have turned to ice. She was trembling all over, tears brimming in her eyes. She wanted to scream at Uther, to curse him, but she knew that wouldn’t save Gwen. She would have try to reason.

“I know Gwen!” She began tremulously, as Uther went to turn away. “She's my maidservant, not an enchantress!”

“Have you ever seen an enchantress, child?” Uther demanded flatly. “Believe me, they bear no sign, no mark. There is no sense of evil in the eye!”

“I've seen the way the Gwen works!” argued Morgana desperately. “Her fingers are worn, her nails are broken. If she was a sorceress, why would she do this? Why would she kneel on a cold stone floor morning after morning when she could make these things happen with a snap of her fingers? Like an idle king!”

“You have no right!” Uther glowered at her in a rage.

“You have no right to cast a judgement on that girl!” Morgana shrieked.  “Gwen loves Elaine; she would never harm her! She would never harm anyone!”

“I have a responsibility to take care of this kingdom!” Uther said angrily. “To save my daughter! I take no pleasure in this!”

“But you're sentencing the wrong person!” Morgana’s voice broke. “You’re so focussed on persecuting Gwen, the real culprit is still at large and Elaine will die because of your stubborn pride!”

“She's right, Father,” Arthur finally spoke up. He looked tense and miserable. “You hear the word magic, you no longer listen.

“You saw it for yourself!” Uther rounded on him. “She used enchantments!”

“Yes, maybe,” Arthur responded helplessly. “But to save her dying father, that doesn't make her guilty of creating a plague. One's the act of kindness, of love, the other of evil. I don't believe evil is in this girl's heart. I certainly do not believe she would do anything to hurt Elaine.”

“I have witnessed what witchcraft can do!” Uther raged, a slightly manic glint in his eye now. “I have suffered at its hand. I cannot take that chance. If there is the slightest doubt about this girl, she must die or the whole kingdom may perish. I will not gamble with Elaine’s life. Your sister has perhaps a day left!

“I understand that,” Arthur said thickly. “God knows I want Elaine well again as much as you do, but…”

“One day you may become King,” Uther said flatly, voice hardening again. “Then you will understand. Such decisions must be made. There are dark forces that threaten this kingdom.”

Arthur looked torn. Morgana thought his hands were trembling. “I know. Witchcraft is an evil, Father. But so is injustice. Yes, I am yet to be King, and I don't know what kind of king I will be, but I do have a sense of the kind of Camelot I would wish to live in. It would be where the punishment fits the crime.

“I fear you're right. She's played with fire, and sadly she must die by fire.”

“If you let Elaine die and kill Gwen instead of finding the real culprit, I will never forgive you!” Morgana fled before she could hear any more.

Elaine grew worse that night, blue lines now threading her pallid face, her breathing ever more laboured, and they all knew the end was drawing near. Morgana sobbed helplessly at her bedside; desolate for her and for Gwen who was now in the dungeons. Arthur punched his own mirror and shattered it. Uther Pendragon, in one last attempt to save his daughter’s life, brought Guinevere's execution forward.

When Merlin came to her with the story that there was a monster in the water supply caverns, Morgana leapt at the chance to do something. Perhaps this was the chance to save both the people she loved best.

“Don’t you dare leave before we get this done!” she whispered fiercely to Elaine. “I forbid you from dying. Hold on, little flower. I’m going to save you both.”

Elaine lay unresponsive on the bed, so still it was although she was already gone. Morgana kissed her forehead, a tear splashing down onto Elaine’s cheek, and went to manipulate Arthur into joining them.

Morgana kept her promise. The creature – an Afanc, Merlin called it – was destroyed and the contamination in the water lifted. There were no more cases and those who were ill began, slowly, to recover.

Morgana went with Merlin and Tom the blacksmith to joyfully see Gwen released, before taking up residence once more at Elaine’s bedside. Slowly, the blue slivers which had painted her face began to recede. Her breathing grew a little stronger.

“She is recovering,” Gaius said, with a relieved, grateful sigh. “A short while and she will be quite herself again.”

Morgana was kind enough not to mention the stifled sob Arthur gave in response, accepting his comment about the room being rather dusty that morning.

When Elaine eventually opened her eyes, three days after she had been found feverish in her bed, she was astonished to find a small crowd in her room. Morgana was crouched beside her bed, clutching one of Elaine’s hands in both of hers. Arthur was sat at the foot of the bed, looking paler and graver than Elaine had seen him in a long time. Gwen and Merlin were sat on the windowsill together, talking in whispers, while Edyth was fluttering around the room tidying things which did not need to be tidied.

Elaine blinked sleepily; her eyes felt heavy and sticky. She stirred weakly.

“Elaine?” Morgana’s voice, though hushed, was high with delight. She pressed a kiss to the back of Elaine’s hand. “Oh Elaine, we were so afraid we were going to lose you!”

Elaine’s brow furrowed in confusion before she blinked as a sudden crowd of faces appeared above her.

“Oh, thank heavens!” exclaimed Edyth tearfully, patting her arm. “Thanks heavens!”

“Are you all right?” Merlin asked urgently. “Are you in pain? How do you feel?”

Elaine tried to form words but her throat would not work.

“She must be thirsty!” Gwen exclaimed hurriedly. Elaine thought she looked paler than usual, and tired. “I’ll fetch you something, my lady. I’ll bring you some hot milk and honey, I know you like that.”

Slightly overwhelmed, Elaine simply blinked in confusion again. Arthur appeared on the opposite side of Morgana. He didn’t say anything but he suddenly grabbed her up in such a tight hug that Elaine was momentarily winded.

“Um, sire….” Merlin said impishly, relishing the opportunity for a little levity. “I think she needs to breathe to recover fully!”

“Shut up, Merlin!” Arthur retorted automatically. “Go and tell my father and Gaius that Elaine is awake. The last of the magic is gone.”

“Magic?” Elaine repeated faintly as Edyth solicitously helped her into a sitting position, pumping her pillows more than they actually needed. “What magic?”

“It’s been a very hard few days,” Arthur said quietly. He had not yet let go of Elaine’s hand. Her other was held by Morgana and Elaine was thus held immobile, but she found she didn’t mind one bit. “I suppose I had best start from the beginning…”

Chapter Text

For a few days after the fever had broken, things were slow and quiet for Elaine. Her father had come to see her in her chambers and was more gentle than she could remember him ever being, except perhaps when she was very, very small and tottering around the nursery.

She’d automatically gone to sit up straighter when he stepped into the room but he had waived her back onto the pillows and sat down on the edge of the bed beside her. To Elaine’s complete astonishment, he had leaned over and kissed her forehead and let his hand cup her cheek for a moment.

“I cannot tell you how glad I am to see you recovering,” he’d said and Elaine had hardly dared breathe for fear of breaking the moment. She dazedly wondered if she was still delirious and imagining the whole thing. He turned her face a little more to the light, brow furrowed in concern. “You are still very pale.”

“Thank you, Father,” she’d managed to say. “I…I am feeling much improved now, truly. I think I can rise and attend my lessons as normal tomorrow.”

“No,” Uther had countered firmly. “You will rest for another few days. I do not want you to do anything strenuous. Magic almost took you from us!”

“Did you find no trace of who was responsible?” Elaine had asked, and her father’s unusual softness seemed to evaporate instantly.

“That is not something for you to worry about, child,” he’d told her briskly, rising. “I will have your maid bring your meals up here. I have no doubt Morgana will keep you company. For the next few days, you must focus only on getting your strength back.”

And then he was gone, leaving Elaine in a wistful, melancholy state of confusion; wondering if such an instance of softness was soothing, or if it only made his cold hardness all the rest of the time hurt even more.

Though she was effectively stuck in bed, the next three days passed quite pleasantly. Morgana was always at her side, and where Morgana went, Gwen went too. Elaine had been deeply horrified to hear that her father had come so close to executing Gwen. While it was true she did not know much about magic, she could not imagine anyone less likely to be a sorcerer. Morgana meanwhile was very attentive to Gwen’s comfort and ensured that Gwen was resting as well as Elaine.

The three young women gossiped amiably together for hours, sitting around the room. Morgana made a great fuss about Merlin offering to sacrifice himself to save Gwen, and teased her maid about how Merlin was quite obviously in love with her. Elaine half-listened thoughtfully…it appeared it had been Merlin who had worked out the cause of the poison; Merlin who had gone with Arthur and Morgana to destroy it; Merlin who had once more been in the vicinity when someone had been saved (or several someones in this case).

Merlin who always seemed to be in the middle the strange, unusual things that had happened over the past few weeks.

“Don’t you think they’d make a sweet couple? Elaine?” Morgana’s voice cut into her musings on the third day of rest.

“What? Oh, yes, very sweet!” Elaine hurriedly said, blushing at being caught lost in thought.

“My lady, Merlin is only…” A pink cheeked Gwen protested.

“And on the subject of happy couples,” Morgana continued, giving Elaine a slightly quizzical look at her distractedness. “Your new gown for when the Mercians come is ready. Edyth showed me; pale cream and gold. It’s very fine work, but one of these days I’m going to insist Lady Isabella dresses you in proper colours instead of everything light and pale as though you were a ghost. You’re a Pendragon, you should wear scarlet like Arthur.”

“She says it will wash me out,” Elaine shrugged placidly, quite used to these things being decided for her.

“I’d like to wash her out!” Morgana muttered savagely. “She’s just itching to get you on your feet again so she can have us all practicing the dances for the welcome feast! Arthur’s avoiding her like the plague! Oh Gods… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that! Not after everything! Oh don’t laugh, it isn’t funny!”

But Elaine and Gwen only laughed more, despite themselves. It felt wonderful to actually have something to laugh about again!

Arthur himself briefly visited her each evening and, now that she was no longer actively dying, had gone back to teasing her, sniping at Morgana and insulting Merlin. Merlin, following faithfully at his heels, brought her a honey cake stolen from the kitchens each visit.

“You don’t bring me honey cakes!” Arthur pointed out huffily. “And you know she is a princess, Merlin, she can have a cake any time she asks! You don’t need to swipe them for her!”

“You’re fat enough!” Merlin quipped back. “We wouldn’t want you unable to get into your banquet attire when the Mercians come, would we? And it’s basically our tradition now – she always brings me some when you are being a prat!”

Elaine giggled and Arthur scowled at her. “Don’t encourage my stupid servant, Elaine!” he instructed imperiously. “Anyway, on the subject of Mercians, I think our luck has run out. Lady Isabella insists everyone attends her tomorrow to rehearse; there is only a week to go. She thinks you’re well enough now and she’s already commandeered Guy, Leon and Owain. I don’t see why I should have to dance!”

“Because Uther and Bayard want a peace treaty,” Morgana said drily. “And Lady Isabella wants a Mercian husband for Elaine. So you will have to endure it and smile, the same as us!”

“Is Lady Elaine really going to have to marry one of Bayard’s sons?” asked Merlin later that night, as he helped Arthur prepare for bed.

“Possibly, why?” Arthur asked, scrubbing at his face with a washcloth.

“Doesn’t she get a choice?”

“She’s a king’s daughter, Merlin, she has to marry where she’s told,” Arthur sighed, talking as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well that doesn’t seem very fair, does it?” Merlin protested indignantly.

“Oh don’t tell me you’re a romantic idealist as well as an idiot! It may be slightly too much for your limited intelligence to comprehend, Merlin,” Arthur said pointedly. “But being a member of the royal family isn’t just about wearing nice clothes and attending banquets. We are responsible for the safety of the kingdom, and we have to make alliances to ensure its future; in diplomacy and in marriage. Neither Elaine nor I will likely have much of a say in who we end up married to. Mind you, I’d object soon enough if my Father tried to have me wedded off to some ugly hag! But who we marry will help shape Camelot’s relationships with other kingdoms going forward. If Elaine is Queen of Mercia one day and my nephews the heir to its throne, kinsmen to my own sons, then that will make Mercia a long-term ally of Camelot.”

“Doesn’t she get an opinion?”

“She’s a girl – she doesn’t have opinions, Merlin!” said Arthur flatly. “Her opinions are what my Father tells her they are and when she is married, they’ll be what her husband tells her they are. That is just the way of things. Why all this concern about my sister’s marriage anyway, and bringing her cake? I thought you were all taken up with Gwen. You’re not mooning round Elaine as well are you? Because if you are, let me tell you…”

“Of course not!” Merlin cut him off, eyes narrowing. “But she’s my friend and no one else seems to care what she wants! Why can’t she choose for herself?”

“Because that’s not how it’s done! And I’ll thank you not to go filling my sister’s head with a lot of idealistic nonsense!” Arthur rounded on him, driving a finger into Merlin’s chest to emphasise his point. “I have enough ado to manage Morgana - and the gods help whoever ends up marrying her – without Elaine becoming difficult as well!”

“But what if they marry Elaine off to some prince with the right title and he treats her badly?” Merlin asked insistently, clearly annoyed by Arthur’s lack of worry over the situation. “Suppose he beats her? Or forces himself upon her when she does not wish it? She just has to accept it and be miserable for the rest of her life?”

Arthur’s face darkened. “Then I would gut him and put his head on a pike! Now for goodness’ sake Merlin will you stop fussing like a bloody old washer woman and stoke up the fire!”

On the day that the Mercian delegation was finally due to arrive, Elaine was laced tightly into her new cream gown by Edyth, while Lady Isabella supervised. Her hair had already been bound up and threaded with late summer blossoms.

“Is it not…a bit much?” Elaine wondered warily, looking in the mirror. The neckline was slightly lower than she usually wore and her bust more elevated than normal by the tightness of her bodice. Nothing scandalous of course, Lady Isabella would never countenance even the slightest impropriety, but still it made her feel on edge. She much preferred blending into the background.

“Nonsense!” Lady Isabella decreed, putting a hand under Elaine’s chin and elevating it so that she stood straighter while Edyth finished the lacing. “Now, remember, you must greet the princes in order of precedence. Crown Prince Ardan is the eldest, then Ivar, then Varna and then Sejen. All due deference should be given to the crown prince.”

“Of course,” Elaine dutifully responded.

“And smile,” Lady Isabella instructed briskly. “You are already very pretty, and that is half the battle with most men, but you must appear amiable and pleasing. Let him decide the topic of conversation and ensure that you appear interested. A man does not care for a sullen wife. If he follows etiquette, Crown Prince Ardan should ask you for the first dance when the feast is concluded. After that you may dance as you are invited, but never with the same partner twice unless it is the Crown Prince. Should he ask you to walk into the gardens with him, you may do so only if you are chaperoned by either your brother or myself.”

“Can’t Morgana come with me?” asked Elaine, wincing slightly at the final tug of the laces.

“Absolutely not! I will not have your chances ruined by her impertinence. You really must stop looking always to Morgana. Your lord father gives her way too much freedom and she is a bad influence.”

“She is my dearest friend, I should be quite miserable without Morgana!” said Elaine with uncharacteristic fervour. “She’s the only person in Camelot who does not think I’m useless!”

“Don’t be foolish, of course you are not useless. You have the chance to help Camelot forge a prosperous alliance,” Lady Isabella sniffed. “Now, I think you will do. Come with me. We will await their arrival with your father.”

When the advance riders brought news that the Mercian delegation was imminent, Uther plus his ward and children assembled on the great stairs in the courtyard to greet them. Lady Isabella had insisted that Morgana wore something muted on this occasion and Morgana had defiantly arrived in violet and gold silk, exchanging an impish grin with Elaine.

Arthur, resplendent in a scarlet jacket, blinked at the sight of Elaine as she came to stand next to him.

“You look…not completely awful,” he told her, muttering out of the side of his mouth. “Can you breathe in that?”

“Not especially well,” Elaine whispered back.

“If it gets unbearable, pretend to faint!” Arthur responded. “I’ll take you back to your chambers and that way we can both escape!”

It sounded like a nice idea, but Elaine dreaded how her father and Lady Isabella would react if she tried it! A sudden cacophony of noise approached, and she hurriedly straightened up and schooled her face into an expression of bland amiability.

The banners of Mercia fluttered proudly in Camelot’s courtyard, gold and blue as a midsummer sky. Trumpets blared to herald the arrival of King Bayard and his retinue, their finely dressed horses stepping through the gates with regal ease. Camelot’s court watched from the ramparts and balconies above, all eager to see a treaty of friendship and peace established after so many years of prolonged hostilities.

None watched the visitors more closely than Elaine; conscious that this meeting might shape her entire future.

King Bayard rode at the head of the party, as was expected. He was a tall and burly man, his dark hair and beard threaded with silver, proud and dignified in his manner.  A column of blue cloaked knights rode on either side of him, while directly behind him were four dark-haired young men whose gleaming armour and richly ornamented cloaks meant they could only be his sons.

Uther and Bayard exchanged ceremonial welcomes and many words of civility, shaking hands, before each presented their heirs to the other. Arthur was called forward to bow to Bayard while Bayard called to Crown Prince Ardan from his retinue.

“Good grief, he would snap you!” Morgana hissed, and Elaine swallowed nervously. Ardan stood a full head above her father and brother (and neither Uther nor Arthur was short) and, unless his armour was misleading, he was thick with muscle.

“And my daughter, Elaine,” Uther gestured for her to join him. Elaine approached as she was bid and made a deep curtsey first to Bayard and then to his son. As she straightened, she had to look up to meet Ardan’s eyes.

“I am very pleased to meet you, my lady,” he said; his voice surprisingly mellifluous for one so large, if rather awkward. “I was told you were lovely, but the reports do not do you justice.”

Elaine’s face burned at the compliment, even if it was so obviously rehearsed and a matter of protocol. She felt terribly conscious of her tight bodice and elevated bust. “Your highness is very kind.”

As the royal party began to move indoors Ardan offered her his arm before Arthur could and Elaine had no choice but to take it. “I hope you will do me the honour of dancing with me this evening,” he said.

 Elaine felt slightly reassured by the fact he sounded as awkward as she felt. “I should be very glad to,” she said with what she hoped was a convincing smile.

“I hope that our visit hear may result in alliances of more than one sort,” he continued, looking at her earnestly. “It would give me great pleasure should they prove fruitful!”

Elaine’s smile became more strained.

That evening, the great hall shimmered with gold, silver and gems and rang with the clink of goblets as the nobility of two kingdoms, both dressed in their finery, dined together in a show of comradeship and civility. The long tables groaned with platters of roast meat and honeyed roots, music and conversation bubbling like wine around the vaulted chamber.

At the high table were the combined royal families. Elaine sat to her father’s left; the place which Morgana usually occupied, which left her feeling tense and on edge for fear she said something wrong in his earshot.

On her other side was Ardan, who had been speaking about falconry with great enthusiasm for the last quarter of an hour, evidently under the impression that she was thoroughly entertained. For a man whose physical presence was so intimidating, he seemed decidedly awkward at small talk.

Elaine nodded politely at regular intervals and stole glances towards the back of the hall, where the servants waited until they were called to attend their masters. She supressed a genuine smile. Arthur had insistently dressed Merlin up in the most preposterous outfit, complete with feathered hat. He looked utterly ridiculous and much displeased by the departure from his usual attire. He was deep in conversation with Gwen, who Elaine was glad to see looked a little better than she had a week ago.

She couldn’t help but notice that Merlin seemed on edge, his eyes constantly scanning the goblets being poured. Something in his manner tugged at her – an unnatural tension in his posture

“Do you not think so, my lady?” Ardan’s voice interrupted her observations, clearly believing that he had said something terribly exciting.

“Oh yes, of course,” Elaine smiled blandly, returning her focus to him. At the very least, his manners were bearable; he did not seem like he would be a brute.

Further down the table, she heard herself described as “obedient and docile - fine qualities indeed in a wife” and felt very much like a pony on sale at the market. Elaine wanted very much to vanish under the table. Her stomach curled in embarrassed shame to know that this was all she was considered to amount to.

“It would a great thing for our two kingdoms to be perpetual friends,” said Ardan, who had obviously followed the conversation further down the table as well. “I intend to continue my father’s line with many sons. My mother was a lady of Nemeth, yours of Wessex. Between us we carry the royal blood of four kingdoms; what a fine foundation for a family that would be!”

Elaine thought back to Morgana’s whispered revelations a few weeks ago, about what went on between a husband and wife, and felt sure if he were to do that to her, he would surely tear her in two. He was enormous. And if the children took after their father’s size, her odds of dying in childbirth were probably fairly high!

She was relieved when, upon conclusion of the meal, Bayard rose to his feet and began to make a speech. At least she was not required to converse any longer.  She was not fully paying attention, scanning the room absently. She realised with a start that Merlin had disappeared. Where could he have gone?

Waxing lyrical, Bayard presented her brother and father with ceremonial goblets, proposing a toast to their new alliance and Elaine dutifully rose to drink with everyone else, having to take Ardan’s proffered hand to assist her to her feet. Good gods, his hands were huge!

King Bayard raised to goblet. “To you, Uther. To Crown Prince Arthur, the people of Camelot and…” He looked over to Ardan and Elaine pointedly. “To a prosperous and fruitful future for our two kingdoms!”

Just as everyone simultaneously began to drink, Elaine was startled by Merlin’s voice echoing through the hall, and the sight of Arthur’s servant appearing to push the goblet away from her brother’s mouth.

“Stop!” Every head in the hall turned to Merlin in surprise. “It's poisoned! Don't drink it!”

“What?” Uther growled disbelievingly and the hall descended into horrified silence.

Arthur looked tense and frustrated. “Merlin, what are you doing?” he ground out through his teeth.

“Bayard laced Arthur's goblet with poison!” Merlin declared, and the hall erupted into a tumult of noise.

“This is an outrage!” King Bayard declared angrily, face scarlet with rage.

Every man in the Mercian delegation drew his sword. Immediately the knights of Camelot did likewise. Elaine hurriedly stepped back as Ardan drew his. If he swung it, she would be dead in an instant.

“Order your men to put down their swords!” Uther instructed coldly, as a host of Camelot’s guards rushed in. “You are outnumbered!”

“I will not allow this insult to go unchallenged!” King Bayard said furiously, looking deeply offended.

Elaine watched tensely as her father pinned Merlin with a glare. “On what grounds do you base this accusation?” Such a glare would have had her trembling and in tears, but Merlin stood his ground calmly.

“I'll handle this,” Arthur muttered, skirting around the table, and grabbing Merlin by the arm. “Merlin, you idiot. Have we been at the sloe gin again?”

But if Arthur was aiming to de-escalate the situation, Uther was not of like mind. “Unless you want to be strung up, you will tell me why you think why you think it's poisoned. Now!” he ordered Merlin.

“He was seen lacing it!” Merlin insisted.

Elaine thought back to the tournament, when Merlin had been so insistent that Knight Valiant was cheating and using magic. No one had believed him then…

“By whom?” her father demanded.

“I can't say,” Merlin said and Elaine winced. That would not help his credibility!

“I won't listen to this anymore!” Bayard cut in angrily.

“Pass me the goblet,” Uther instructed his son, remaining calm in the face of Bayard’s rage. Arthur handed it over. “If you're telling the truth...”

“I am,” Bayard growled.

“Then you have nothing to fear, do you?” Uther mused, but as Bayard sheathed his sword and reached for the goblet, the king of Camelot did not relinquish it. “No. If this does prove to be poisoned, I want the pleasure of killing you myself! He’ll drink it!”

Elaine realised in alarm that her father was pointing to Merlin, who Ardan was eyeing with outraged fury, grip tightening around the hilt of his sword.

“But if it is poisoned, he'll die!” Arthur spoke up at once, alarm all over his features.

“Then we'll know he was telling the truth,” Uther returned dispassionately.

“And what if he lives?” pressed Bayard.

“Then you shall have my apologies, and you can do with him as you will!”

“Uther, please!” Gaius broke in urgently. “He's just a boy! He doesn't know what he's saying!”

“Then you should've schooled him better!” snapped Uther in return.

Arthur looked as tense as Elaine felt herself. “Merlin, apologise!” he ordered, reaching out to take the goblet quickly from his father. “This is a mistake. I'll drink it!”

“No, no, no!” Merlin cried urgently, seizing it from Arthur in turn. “It’s all right, I will drink it.” To Elaine’s horror, he raised the goblet in an approximation of a toast and promptly swallowed its contents. For a terrible moment, nothing happened, and a look of puzzlement crossed the young man’s face. “It's fine…”

“He’s all yours, Bayard!” snapped Uther.

Elaine was about to protest, to plead for mercy on Merlin’s behalf, when she realised that her friend had begun to choke. He clawed at his throat, struggling for breath, then his eyes rolled back and he collapsed insensible on the floor.

“Merlin!” she gasped in disbelief, before looking up at Ardan who had taken a step forward in synchronicity with her. He was staring at Merlin in horrified bewilderment. Unless he was a very, very good actor, Elaine did not think he could be involved with his father’s plot.

“It’s poisoned!” Uther cried, face paling. “Guards seize him!”

As the red-cloaked knights of Camelot surrounded Bayard and the Mercian delegation, including Prince Ardan, Elaine lost sight of Gaius and Arthur as they crouched over Merlin’s prostrate form amidst the chaos. Swords were drawn on all sides and there were raised voices all around.

“We must get him back to my chambers,” she heard Gaius’s voice, and then jumped as someone seized her arm.

It was Sir Guy. “My lady, you must come with me, I will take you to safety,” he said urgently, half tugging her away from the table and hurriedly shepherding her out of the hall.

“I need to go to Gaius’s chambers,” Elaine protested. “I want to see Merlin!”

“You must come to your chambers, my lady, and lock yourself in,” Guy said firmly, and his handsome face – usually so cheerful – was very grave. “At least until we have them under lock and key. Mercian dogs, to come here under a flag of friendship and then make an attempt on the Prince's life! Mind your step now, my lady.”

Elaine was hurried along the corridor and up the great stairway, though Guy’s grasp was not rough. He was too much the gentleman. Before she knew it, she was being bundled into her chambers.

“Now bolt the door, my lady!” Guy instructed from the other side as he drew the door closed behind him. Elaine frustratedly had no option but to comply, sliding the bolt into place. “Thank you, my lady. I will stand guard.”

Damn Guy and his well-meaning civility, Elaine thought angrily. How was she to get to Merlin now? She crossed over to the window and peered out – there was the ledge that ran the whole length of this wing of the castle outside but it was at least three floors down from there to Gaius’s chambers and she did not think she would be able to hold her own weight if she tried it. And if she did not kill herself trying, her father would ensure she never sat again!

She paced and fretted and huffed in frustration until she heard footsteps and several other voices outside her door some hours later. That sounded like Kay, maybe. And perhaps Owain too?

“…already left, but the King demands we ride out after him. We three are the swiftest. He bids us depart at once and bring him back. Is Lady Elaine safe within?”

“Yes, I had her bolt the door from the inside. She will likely be asleep by now. I will have someone take my place in a moment. Come then, we must make haste.”

Finally, Elaine was able to slip out of her room and run to the physician’s chambers before Guy’s replacement could appear. There she found Merlin, lying pale and feverish on a cot, a fretful Gwen at his side, wiping his forehead with a cloth, while Gaius was grinding up a herb of some sort at nearby table.

“How is he?” she asked, rushing to join Gwen at Merlin’s side. “What was it that he drank? Gaius, can you help him?”

The key to Merlin survival, she learned, was some mysterious flower that could only be found some distance away and in a location of great peril. Arthur had set off to find it, despite being expressly forbidden to do so by Uther, who had instructed him simply to let Merlin die.

“Of course he went,” Elaine nodded with relief. “Arthur will return in time, I know he will! He will not let Merlin die. He won’t! Gaius, what can I do to help?”

Gaius seemed strangely edgy, though Elaine supposed that was only natural given that he seemed to be a father figure of sorts to Merlin. “It’s getting late,” he said. “Both of you really should go and get some rest. I will tend him through the night.”

But neither Elaine nor Gwen would be dissuaded and so Gaius had no choice but to relent in the face of their determination. He let them sit at Merlin’s side while he continued to grind up willow bark to brew into a tea to hopefully help slow Merlin’s fever, even if he could not cure it.

Every minute seemed to last a tense, interminable lifetime.

“Fetch me a little more water, Gwen, would you?” Gaius asked Gwen in the early hours of the morning. “I will make him another dose. I have more willow bark in my stores.”

Gwen looked reluctant to leave Merlin, but she could hardly suggest Elaine go in her place, and so she got to her feet and took Gaius’s water bucket. Gaius stepped into his cluttered storeroom, rummaging through bottles and boxes.

“Arthur!” Merlin muttered in his sleep. “Arthur!”

“Arthur will save you, Merlin!” Elaine whispered fervently, reaching out to hold his hand. “I know he will! Just hold on a little longer.”

But then Merlin began to speak, lilting unfamiliar words that Elaine had never heard before. She had no idea of the language.

And a glowing ball of light suddenly appeared in his hand.

Elaine stared at it for a moment, rigid in shock, before she hurriedly suddenly grabbed a blanket and half-slammed it down over Merlin’s torso, concealing his arm in the process. She sat on the edge of the cot, on the edge of the blanket itself, so that it might not easily be knocked off in the event he rolled over. Her heart hammered so hard she was sure it must echo all through the castle, and her hands felt cold and tingly.

Merlin had magic. Merlin had magic. Her friend was a sorcerer!

She’d known there was something. Too many strange coincidences. Too many instances of him being in exactly the right place at the right time. But now it was irrefutable. Sweat began to bead at her hairline. Dear gods, what was he doing in Camelot, constantly at Arthur’s side, where her father would kill him in an instant if he ever learned that Merlin had such gifts?!

It did not once cross her mind to be afraid of Merlin. Whatever he was, whatever he could do, she knew one thing was wholly and unshakeably true…Merlin was good. She knew that as surely as she knew that Arthur was bossy, that Morgana was brave, that Gwen was kind and that she herself was a coward. He was not a threat, he was not an enemy; he was someone who made Camelot better, who made her brother better, by his continued presence here.

Did Gaius know? Elaine stared fretfully after the old physician, who was still rummaging in his stores. He must do, surely? But she couldn’t risk asking. To say it out loud risked condemning Merlin if Gaius didn’t know, and implicating Gaius if he did. Once the words were spoken, they could not be taken back.

She would not say a thing, would not make it a verbal reality. No one could prove what she had seen, no one could make her say what she had witnessed. If ever pressed, she would say her mind was addled by the lingering exhaustion following her fever and by fear for her friend. She was imagining things.

“Are you all right, my dear?” Gaius asked as he returned. “You’ve gone very white. You really should go up to bed, you can’t do any more for him until Arthur returns. Your father will not be happy if he finds you have tired yourself.”

“It’s all right,” Elaine gabbled semi-hysterically. “I’m quite well. I think I will just sit with him a while longer.”

And so she sat there, pinning the blanket in place, sweating with anxiety as hour after endless hour ticked by.

When news reached Gaius’s chambers that Prince Arthur had returned unharmed, with the morteus flower in his grasp, Elaine’s heart had leapt with joyful relief. But that joy had immediately soured when Morgana arrived there with news.

“Uther’s confined Arthur to the dungeons!” Morgana said in incredulous anger. “For a week! He will let Merlin die simply to teach Arthur a lesson.”

“Did Uther destroy the flower?” Gaius’s face was taut with alarm.

“No, I do not think so. Not that I saw!” Morgana said. “He just had Arthur carted off by his own men. We must get to it if we can!”

“What if I pretend to take food down to Arthur?” Gwen suggested suddenly. “I’m a servant, they would not question it. We could retrieve it that way?”

“No,” Elaine shook her head hurriedly. “It would not do for you to get into trouble with my father, not so soon after he had imprisoned you. He does not forget and I do not like to think what would happen to you if he finds out you helped Arthur defy him. Leave it to me, I think I should be able to get it.”

Elaine rushed down the tower stairway as fast as her legs could carry her and stopped at the entrance to the dungeons. It was Leon who stood guard. Perfect.

She bit her lip and let her eyes fill with tears – they were not wholly false, she was genuinely afraid that if she was not successful then Merlin would die – and made them as big and wide as she possibly could, dipping her chin slightly so she could stare up at Leon through her lashes.

She’d learned well from Morgana.

“Lady Elaine!” Leon straightened hurriedly at the sight of her, his face pale and worried. “You should not be down here – the king would be very angry if he found out! I should not like to see you get in trouble, my lady.”

Elaine began to wring her hands, clasping them before her pleadingly. “Oh, please, Leon!” she gasped. “Let me see him just a moment? I’ve been so terribly frightened about him.” She blinked and a tear rolled slowly down her cheek.

Leon softened instantly and Elaine felt terrible for manipulating him. Leon, like Guy, was one of her favourite of Arthur’s knights. He was so courteous and kind. “My lady, do not distress yourself, I swear we would let no one harm you. But the king said the prince was to receive no visitors.”

“Please, Leon, I beg you – just for a moment!” Elaine let her breathing grow uneven, self-consciously aware of the effect this had on her bust, given she was still in her low-necked, tightly laced gown of the night before. “They said he returned but I’ll not be able to rest until I can hold his hand. Oh please, just let me see my brother!” She added in a half sob for good measure.

Leon, looking deeply sympathetic and a little pained by her distress, relented and stepped aside, and Elaine rushed though the entrance to the dungeons. She could see Arthur sitting miserably on the floor of one of the cells with what looked suspiciously like tears in his eyes. He stood up quickly at the sight of her and, conscious of Leon standing nearby behind her - he was ordering the other guards out of the way -Elaine pointedly winked before holding her hands out and crying out in emotion.

“Oh Arthur! I was so frightened without you!”

Immediately understanding, Arthur made a great show of rolling his eyes and walked over to the bars to take her hands as though it was a chore. Elaine felt something soft and velvety pressed into the right one and closed her fingers quickly around it.

“You are such a baby, Elaine!” he repeated his frequently-made observation, tone exasperated. However, he squeezed her hand gratefully as he spoke, his eyes saying more than his voice could. “But you don’t need to be frightened, I am unharmed as you see. Now go back upstairs at once, you should not be down here! You look pale - go and ask Gaius to give you something to calm you.”

“All right, I will,” Elaine promised. “I just wanted to see you for a moment. Thank you Leon, I am in your debt!”

And with the flower clutched tightly in her hand, Elaine ran with all possible haste to Gaius’s chamber.

“Well, little flower, looks like you won’t have to marry that hulking great brute after all!” Morgana said lightly as she, Arthur and Elaine stood together on the ramparts to watch the Mercians depart the following day.

War had been averted but only very, very narrowly.

Elaine had overheard one of the younger Mercian princes observe to another: “Shame, really. The girl would’ve made a pretty peace offering.” But Bayard, though placated enough to eschew war, had no intention of wedding his son to Uther Pendragon’s daughter now. And Ardan had looked pointedly away as though the sight of her disgusted him. She could not say that she minded very much.

“And Arthur gets all the glory,” Morgana continued with a smile. “Let the bragging begin! Come on, how did you manage it?”

“I’m not sure,” Arthur said, sounding uncommonly grave. He stared thoughtfully off into the distance. “All I know is that I had help. Someone knew I was in trouble…and sent a light to guide the way.”

Elaine bit her lip, heart fluttering wildly, as she thought of the ball of pure light that had appeared in Merlin’s hands. She knew exactly where that help had come from.

Merlin had magic.

She didn’t dare look at either her brother or Morgana for fear they might see something in her expression, and settled for looking really intently at the wall of the ramparts beneath her hands. She must keep Merlin’s secret…his life depended on it. Not for a moment that she believed Arthur or Morgana were capable of cruelty but as prince, Arthur was bound to uphold the laws. And if her father somehow learned of Merlin’s gifts…she shuddered.

“Elaine?” Arthur laid a hand on her back in concern.

“Just…relieved!” she lied shakily. “That I do not have to be married and shipped off to Mercia.”

“You know that I would not permit anyone to ill-use you, don’t you?” Arthur said seriously. “No matter who Father chooses for you! I'll never let anyone hurt you.”

“Goodness me, we are noble indeed today!” Morgana teased him, breaking the tension. “Still though, all those rehearsals and we didn’t even have to dance! Why don’t we round up some of the knights and have one anyway. You can make it up to Leon after breaking his heart with your tears, Elaine!”

Elaine let herself be towed along without protest. She didn’t care that she was being dishonest. She’d tell a hundred lies a day for the rest of her life if it meant that Merlin would be safe!

That evening, as Camelot reeled in the aftermath of war averted and whispers of dark sorcery resounded in every corner, Elaine made her way quietly down to the kitchens and thereafter to Gaius’s chambers.

She found Merlin sitting upright at Gaius’s table. He was still terribly pale and weak looking, but his usual irrepressible grin was back in place. The sight of it filled her with relief and joy.

“I thought you might be hungry,” she said, setting the tray she was carrying in front of him. It contained a steaming bowl of stew, a warm fresh roll of bread, and a golden honey cake. Merlin grinned at the sight of it. “Like you said, it’s our tradition now, right?”

“Definitely a good tradition!” Merlin nodded, taking up the spoon and digging in with gusto. “Thank you – I can always trust you to turn up and be kind when I most need it!”

“And I can always trust you to save my brother,” Elaine said gratefully, sitting beside him. “You really are making a habit of it!”

“Well he’s almost bearable sometimes!” Merlin joked. “And he did the same for me.”

“Yes, he was very worried about you, even if he would never admit it,” Elaine said, deliberately looking at some of the herbs on the table as she spoke. “It was very lucky indeed that that light helped him find his way.”

“Mmm, lucky for me!” Merlin laughed airily, dipping the bread into the stew, looking for all the world as though he were merely discussing the weather. 

Elaine looked side along at him as he ate. He was clearly used to putting up a façade, and of course he had no idea that she knew. She would not force the information out of him. Very well, she would keep his secret... as long as she needed to.

“I really am glad you’re well, Merlin,” she reached out and squeezed his hand. Merlin blushed spectacularly and dropped his spoon. “I feel like Camelot is much safer with you in it!"

Chapter Text

The Knights of Camelot had been a perpetual backdrop to Elaine’s life; their red cloaks and gleaming mail always present even in her very earliest memories. The faces and the names had changed over the years as she grew up, but the brotherhood itself never waned; always present, always protecting, always there.

Though she often now observed  their training sessions when she sat in Merlin’s company to escape the tedium of Lady Isabella’s exhaustive list of lessons, Elaine had very little direct interaction with her brother’s men. Certainly, she admired their bravery and skill, applauded politely at tournaments, and smiled when they bowed to her—but that had always been the extent of her interest. Arthur himself embodied knighthood, but to her he was simply Arthur: strong, arrogant, dismissive, and protective in equal measure. The other knights blurred into a homogenous stream of armour, arrogance, civility and occasional bravery.

There were a few she knew by name: Sir Ector and Sir Dagonet were the old hands, contemporaries of her father when Uther had been a young man. They were still hale and fit, though they had a marked preference for doing things the old-fashioned way. Then there were Owain, Guy and Leon, who were of an age with Arthur. Owain was witty and intelligent, Guy handsome and cheerful and Leon earnest and courteous. They were Elaine’s most frequent dance partners on court occasions, while the rest of the order fell over themselves trying to impress Morgana.

She read plenty about knights; much to Morgana’s amusement and Arthur’s disdain. Elaine’s gentle soul loved the old ballads in which knights were feted not simply as great warriors, but as the defenders of the innocent. In the stories, they were kind, courtly and gentle; they wrote poetry, completed great deeds and remained steadfastly faithful to their true loves. That was what Elaine felt a knight should be.

Arthur, meanwhile, had been whingeing a lot lately about the standard of the new incoming recruits seeking to obtain a knighthood. As far as he was concerned, they were not up to scratch; they were too slow, too hesitant, too lacking in skill. A young man from Wessex had been refused that week, and one from Northumbria.

“I heard you have taken to calling yourself ‘the ultimate killing machine’ when they must face you!” Morgana scoffed as they dined one evening in Arthur’s solar, with one of the kitchen maids attending alongside Merlin. Uther was not present, only the three of them, which made for a much more relaxed and lively meal than usual. “Honestly, Arthur, if you were made of honey you would eat yourself! Goodness knows how they can all stand to be around you!”

Merlin snickered and Arthur spun around in his chair to glare at him. “Something you’d like to share with everyone, Merlin?”

“Nothing, sire,” Merlin answered with a smirk. Elaine stifled a smile behind her napkin.

“And if you two have quite finished your jokes,” Arthur turned back to the girls. “I meant to let you know that you’re not to go riding tomorrow.”

“What?” Morgana frowned at him, clearly prepared to argue.

“Why?” asked Elaine, disappointed. She and Morgana had been going to ride to Greenswood valley to gather some of the late autumn blackberries. Her father had given permission, provided that two of the knights went with them, and Elaine had been looking forward to it.

“Because something has been attacking some of the surrounding villages,” Arthur said, his face becoming more serious. “There have been at least three incidents – and some of the witnesses say the creature has wings. It takes no livestock and seems to have a taste for human flesh. And while I would be quite content to let both of you be carried off so that I might get a little peace and quiet, Father would prefer you both remain unharmed. So you’ll have to find some other way to amuse yourselves – sew, or whatever it is you actually do when I’m not here. And don’t come down to the training field to distract Merlin with your twittering, Elaine! I have the last group of new hopefuls to put through their paces. Though if they’re anything like the others then it won’t take long.”

The rest of the meal passed fairly peaceably. Morgana and Elaine talked about the translation of the Odyssey that Lady Isabella had Elaine working on, and Morgana lauded their superior Latin over Arthur. Arthur grumbled good-naturedly and rolled his eyes

When the meal was over, they rose to leave the solar – Arthur intending to return to the training yard and the girls to walk in the flower garden until sunset.

“Elaine?” Merlin caught her arm hurriedly as she went to cross the threshold, pulling her back into the room. He was speaking in a hushed voice, clearly not intending for Morgana or Arthur to notice whatever it was he wanted to say.

“Mmm?” Elaine turned back curiously, immediately on alert. Was there something strange and magical about to happen in Camelot again?

“You know those noble lineages that Lady Isabella always has you reciting?” Merlin asked.

“Yes…” Elaine said, drawing out the word in confusion. Why on earth was Merlin asking about her lessons in noble bloodlines?

“If I wanted to find out more information about a particular family, where would I find it?” he pressed.

“Well, it would depend on the family in question,” Elaine replied, now even more confused. “But there is an account of each of the noble families on the Island in the library. What is it that you want to find out? I know most of them off by heart; I’ve had to recite them enough times. I could help you if you like – or ask Lord Geoffrey for you.”

“No, no – it’s all right,” Merlin answered breezily. “It’s just an errand for Gaius, that’s all. He’s trying to recall an old acquaintance from years ago but could not remember if they were the second or third son of their father.”

Elaine had the distinct feeling that Merlin wasn’t actually telling her the truth, and wondered if it could indeed be related to something magical. She did not press though.

She was sure that if Merlin was digging among the genealogies of Albion, it would surely be for a good reason!

Before two days had passed, another mysterious attack occurred, this time in the very valley that Elaine and Morgana had intended to ride to. The village there had been partially destroyed and a stream of weary survivors had slowly begun to make their way through the gates of the citadel.

Hearing the terrible news, Elaine and Morgana immediately abandoned their afternoon’s occupations (much to Lady Isabella’s protestations in Elaine’s case) and hurried down to the main square alongside several other members of the castle household, where they quickly tried to be of use. Most of the villagers had fled only with the clothes on their back, and it was the middle of autumn. There were blankets to be handed out, food and water to be distributed, distress to be soothed.

Gaius and Merlin were quickly among them and began to tend to those of the villagers who had suffered the worst physical wounds.

Elaine found herself with a quartet of children, aged between five and ten, clutching at her skirts for the rest of the afternoon. She was very fond of children and quite content to entertain them for the day. She was also deeply impressed by their resilience; once they had realised that they and their parents were now safe within the citadel, that there were lots of knights around to protect them, their spirits had soon improved and they were full of questions.

“Are you really a princess?” the smallest girl asked shyly.

“Yes,” Elaine answered with a smile, gently washing the girl’s soot-streaked face with a damp cloth. “My name is Elaine.”

“But…you don’t have a crown…” the girl observed curiously, evidently believing that this was a pre-requisite for the title.

“She keeps the crown safe in a treasure box indoors!” Merlin cut in, in a very solemn voice, bringing the children cups of water. “It wouldn’t do to wear it outside in case she misplaced it – a troll might steal it!”

“Do trolls like gold?” the little girl asked, fascinated, before one of the older ones, a boy of perhaps eight years old, tugged insistently at Elaine’s sleeve.

“How many windows are there in your castle?”

“Um…” Elaine blinked. “I’m afraid I have no idea; there are a great many! I’ve never thought to count them before, you see. I shall have to rectify that at once and I will be sure to tell you!”

“Are we to stay here now? What if the bad thing comes here and tries to eat us all, like it did back home?” asked another little boy anxiously.

“You mustn’t be frightened,” Elaine soothed them gently, lifting the smallest girl into her arms and allowing the other three to press around her, latching onto her skirts. “I shall tell you a secret. My brother, Prince Arthur, is the bravest knight in all the world and the very best at slaying monsters!”

“Is he one of the dragon men? Does he have a crown?”

“One of the dragon…oh I see!” Elaine laughed. “The dragon is the symbol of my father, who is the king. So all of the knights all wear it on their cloaks, as they are sworn to his service. And yes, Arthur wears one too, though he doesn’t tend to wear a crown. I promise you, my father definitely does wear one though.”

Apparently mollified that at least some of the royalty in Camelot had their priorities right when it came to crown wearing, the children were finished with their questions. They now settled on having Elaine sit before them while they ‘braided’ flowers into her hair. The final result of their efforts saw Elaine’s hair knotted in ways that would take hours to undo, and the biggest smile on her face that Merlin had seen since he’d arrived in Camelot several months ago.

That evening, news spread throughout the citadel that Arthur and his men had intensified their training regimen in advance of meeting the beast head on; they meant to halt its progress and destroy it before it could do any further damage. Some of the new recruits were also to be knighted ahead of that the following evening.

Usually the knighting ceremonies were fairly grand occasions, liberal with wine and toasts of celebration, but the current circumstances being what they were, it was a much more sombre occasion that saw four young men admitted to the highest echelons of Camelot chivalry.

Elaine, Morgana and Gwen stood to the side and watched as each man knelt before Uther, made his vow, and arose as a member of the brotherhood: Peregrin, Edmund, Lancelot and Godric.

In the aftermath of the knighting proper, some members of the court remained, standing around and and exchanging conversation if not the usual lively enjoyments. They discussed the mysterious creature, the damage it had done, and how it was supposed to be defeated.

Elaine had been telling Morgana how she had snuck a platter of comfits from the kitchen down to the children from Greenswood earlier that afternoon (a makeshift dormitory had been set up for the displaced villagers in one of the empty halls) when Arthur approached them with a dark-haired young man at his side.

“This is Sir Lancelot, the youngest son of Lord Eldred of Northumbria,” Arthur introduced him, before turning to Lancelot and gesturing to the girls. “My sister, Lady Elaine and my father’s ward, Lady Morgana.”

The young man bowed at once, respectfully, before looking up with dark, soulful eyes. Elaine’s heart gave a happy flutter as she curtseyed in return, her cheeks growing warm. His gaze was humble, serious but intense. “My ladies, I am your humble servant.”

Morgana raised an amused eyebrow. “The pleasure is ours, Sir Lancelot.”

 “Elaine?” Arthur prompted dryly, raising an eyebrow at her. “Have you lost your wits tonight, or just your voice?”

Elaine’s blush deepened instantly. She dipped her head, mortified. “Forgive me. Welcome to Camelot, Sir Lancelot, and congratulations of your knighthood.”

Lancelot smiled. It was a nice smile, she thought; the bright, genuine kind which seemed to light up his whole face and warmed his rich brown, kind eyes.  “Thank you, my lady. I hope I shall prove myself worthy of the honour soon enough.”

“You’ll have the chance soon enough,” Arthur sighed heavily. “Come, we all have a lot of work to do before we begin to strategize; we can have one drink but that is all...”

As Arthur strode away, Lancelot paused just long enough to give Elaine and Morgana another polite bow, and Elaine’s heart fluttered in her chest once more.

Morgana leaned toward her conspiratorially. “My dear little flower, you are blushing!”

Elaine covered her flaming cheeks with her hands, laughter bubbling nervously between her fingers, and hoped no one else had noticed.

That evening, Gwen brushed out Morgana’s long, dark hair in her chambers while Elaine sat cross-legged on the bottom of Morgana’s bed. Both the young ladies were in their nightgowns, preparing for bed, and the subject of conversation was the four new young men admitted to the knighthood.

Elaine twisted a golden curl around her fingers, thoughtful and dreamy. “He was very noble in his bearing, wasn’t he?” she asked. “Lancelot. What did you think of him, Gwen?”

Gwen smiled serenely, cheeks warming. “I thought he seemed lovely,” she said. “I spoke to him yesterday; Merlin brought him to have something mended. I liked him very much – I think Camelot needs men like him. And he’s already friends with Merlin, which shows he has good judgement.”

Elaine, a pink flush adorning her own cheekbones once more, nodded in agreement. “And his manners were very nice…and his voice. He didn’t bellow or swagger like some of Arthur’s men do! He spoke gently.”

Morgana chuckled, clearly deeply amused at their starry-eyed dreaminess. “And handsome too, which I feel a knight ought to be if he possibly can,” she observed archly. “He certainly seems to have made an impression on you two. Your first pash, Elaine, how adorable!”

Elaine blushed darker, ducking her head. “Don’t laugh at me, Morgana!”

“Oh, dearest I’m not, it’s very sweet! And a very you choice as well. But don’t dream too grandly, Elaine – princesses don’t marry knights.”

“I know that, I’m not silly,” Elaine protested. “Although there has been such an instance, you know. The sister of the present king of Carleon renounced her title and claim to the line of succession to marry a knight! Lady Isabella mentioned it when she had me memorise their royal line.”

“And what happened? They lived happily ever after?” prompted Morgana, stretching languidly as Gwen finished with her hair.

Elaine’s smile dimmed. “Sadly not. He died young in the king’s service and left her a widow with young children.”

“Well then, you’ll have to settle for admiration from afar for now! Unless his four older brothers die and he suddenly inherits his father’s title!” Morgana said, eyebrows raising  pointedly. Neither she nor Elaine noticed that Gwen suddenly became very busy tidying away the hairbrushes and avoiding their eyes at the mention of Lancelot’s heritage. “Mind you, we’ll see how long those nice manners last in Arthur’s vicinity. Perhaps your gentle paragon will become as arrogant as the rest of them in time!”

After she had retired to her own chambers, Elaine lay awake, the covers pulled up around her shoulders. It often took her a while to drift off to sleep and usually in the silence, broken only by the soothing crackling of her fire, she would indulge herself with daydreams.

Sometimes she imagined herself doing something particularly brave or impressive, something that made her father and brother realise that she was something more than just a quiet, docile little shadow. At other points, she imagined arriving in the hall of the Beltane festival in a dress that was neither pale nor muted and, for once, being the one that people wanted to dance with rather than a second option when Morgana was occupied.

Tonight, Lancelot strolled charmingly into her dreams, dark eyes aglow. She closed her eyes, imagining scenes of courtly romance—Lancelot, extending his hand for a dance beneath the flickering candlelight of the great hall, spinning and twirling with her, his touch warm and gentlemanly. She pictured him stepping forward and politely but firmly correcting Arthur when he dismissed her as silly or childish.

It was foolish, and she knew it. She had only spoken to him once! But everyone could dream occasionally, couldn’t they?

Cheeks glowing anew, she rolled over onto her stomach, buried her face in her pillow and let herself dream some more.

Merlin noticed her distraction the next morning in the courtyard. Arthur and the knights were drilling while Elaine and Morgana were bringing more supplies down to the displaced villagers.

He strolled up to Elaine, ostensibly to discuss the medical supplies which Gaius required, while Arthur approached Morgana and was discussing something with her in low voices.

Merlin quickly noticed that Elaine’s attention was frequently elsewhere…namely across the square. “Elaine?” he grinned, nudging her gently.

She jumped slightly, and then pretended she hadn’t just been staring. “Oh. Sorry, Merlin. You were saying about sticklewort?”

Merlin’s eyes danced with amusement. “Enjoying the show are we, my lady?”

Elaine laughed, unable to deny it. “He’s very talented, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” Merlin said, voice deliberately neutral, following her gaze. “Talented. That’s it.”

“For God’s sake, is Elaine going to spend the whole morning mooning over him?” Arthur groused to Morgana, accepting a water cup from her and downing the contents in one. He looked over to where Elaine was standing with Merlin and watching Lancelot with admiring eyes. “She’s ridiculous!”

“Oh, Arthur, leave her be! It’s her first pash, I think it’s sweet!” Morgana said with a chuckle.

“It’s disgusting!” Arthur said flatly. “She’s my sister, she shouldn’t be having pashes on anyone – she’s a child!”

“She’s almost seventeen and they were talking about betrothing her last month!” Morgana countered with a smirk. “Besides, she could have chosen worse. Some rough stable hand, or a blacksmith’s apprentice, perhaps, all sweaty muscles and no manners! Would you rather it was that?”

“Don’t be crass, Morgana, it doesn’t suit you!” Arthur said peevishly.

“Doesn’t it? Anyway, it’s not as though he would take advantage of her admiration; he seems a good man. And Elaine is so frightened of your father she’d never put a toe out of line even if he offered himself on a plate. Better she has a harmless little infatuation than seeing her married off to that hulk from Mercia! Besides, it’s nice she’s chosen a solemn sort to moon over – intelligent men are in short enough supply around here.”

Arthur rolled his eyes.

It was that evening that they learned the shocking truth: Lancelot was not a noble at all; he was in fact a peasant who had lied to the king and presented him with a fraudulent crest of nobility. He was now under arrest and in the dungeons.

All of the older women of the court, who had been just as taken with him as Elaine was the day before, began immediately to announce that they had never trusted him anyway.

“You’ll recall, my dear, I did say that his eyes were a little too close together…”

“…and I’m sure I always thought his manners a little too perfect, like putting on an act!”

“I had heard he’d done it to convince the Lady Morgana to elope with him!”

“No! Saints be praised, it is a miracle we found out in time!”

Elaine was quiet and a little crestfallen. She wandered along to Gaius’s chambers, ostensibly to collect more sticklewort for the villagers, and fell into conversation with Merlin who was looking similarly gloomy.

“I suppose that is what you wanted the court genealogies for?” she said with a grimace.

“I’m sorry, Elaine, I know I should have told you, but it meant so much to him, and he saved my life!”

Elaine shrugged the apology aside. “You must have made a very convincing replica to get it past my father in the first place,” she observed. “He’s not an easy man to fool!”

“It’s because I’m… very artistic,” Merlin offered, somewhat lamely. “What will happen to him now? What is your father likely to do? Do you think if you asked for leniency he might…”

Merlin never got to finish his sentence because alarm bells began to clang loudly throughout the citadel. Startled, he and Elaine rushed to the window to see people running panicked through the square below while a great winged creature, looking to be half eagle and half lion, swooped down on them from above.

“The creature!” breathed Merlin tensely. “Elaine, you should go back to your rooms. Whatever you do, stay inside! I’m going to find Arthur!”

Elaine followed him out of Gaius’s chambers but instead of making her way up the stairs to her own chambers, she headed instead for the council room. Truthfully, her father was not the sort of person one ran to to be comforted or reassured, but with Arthur out there fighting the beast, she knew she would feel safer in her father’s vicinity. In addition to that, the council chamber overlooked the courtyard while her own chambers didn’t. At least this way she could see Arthur’s progress and would know what was happening to him.

She found her father and some of his council watching from the windows as she entered the chamber. Uther waved her over to his side and she joined him there. Though she was probably more afraid of her father than any monster that walked the land, she did at least feel slightly steadier with his tall frame at her side. Uther Pendragon was many things: cold, hard, unsympathetic and domineering; but he also seemed utterly unshakable. She was certain that there was no beast in the world that could frighten him!

The room was so silent that the very crackle of the fire seemed echo with unnatural volume. Every eye was trained on the courtyard, on Arthur, whose voice could be heard ringing through the night.

“On me! On me! Defence!”

Elaine watched tensely as the other knights surrounded her brother in a defensive formation. Even at this distance, she could recognise some of them. There was Owain at the back, brandishing a spear. There was Guy, golden hair gleaming in the torchlight. Sir Dagonet’s bulky frame was on Arthur’s right.

And sweeping towards them was a creature Elaine could have hardly imagined even in her wildest dreams. It had the head and wings of an eagle; an enormous cruelly curved beak and a wingspan the length of two fully grown men. But it’s body was that of a great cat; furred and powerful, boasting lethal claws. Its screech seemed to echo off the walls and it dove towards Arthur and his men with intent. They ducked and spread out. Someone was sent flying into a wall and Elaine gasped in alarm; in the shadows she could not see who it was.

Arthur was still standing in the centre. “Defence!” he called again. The creature landed right in front of him.

“Oh no, oh no!” Elaine whispered, barely aware she was making a sound. She reached out and clutched a handful of her father’s sleeve. It was a mark of how concerned Uther was for his son that he did not even glower at her.

“Charge! On me!” Arthur’s call sounded loud into the night and he charged towards the beast with a spear. He struck it in the chest, it’s shriek echoing off the walls, but the spear broke and the creature still stood, unbested. One of the other men threw a flaming torch to Arthur. He caught it and waved it in the creature’s face.

With a final shriek, it beat its enormous wings and lifted into the air, flying up and up until the darkness swallowed it whole.

“Are you all right?” Elaine asked urgently as Arthur appeared in the council chamber some minutes later. “Are you hurt? Was any one harmed?”

“It’s all right,” Arthur reassured her quietly, patting her arm. “I’m unharmed, as are all the men. Godric was winded pretty badly when the creature tossed him aside but there doesn’t seem to be anything broken. Everyone lives to fight another day.”

Uther approached, paternal pride evident in his face, and he clapped Arthur on the shoulder: “You said your knights were the best in the land. You proved that today.”

Arthur did not preen or puff up under the praise as he might ordinarily have done. In fact, he looked decidedly glum. “All I know is it's still out there,” he sighed.

“Then let us not wait for it,” Uther said decisively.  “The kingdom has been menaced by this creature for too long. We finish this now.”

Gaius’s voice cut through the room. Elaine had not even noticed him enter, with Merlin at his side. “Sire, if I may…”

“Gaius?” Uther looked around sharply.

“I've been researching this creature, Sire, since we first had word of it,” Gaius said gravely. “I believe it to be a griffin.”

“A griffin?” Uther repeated, clearly impatient and keen to be moving to action rather than discussion. “What's in a name?”

“The griffin is a creature of magic,” Gaius stated quietly.

The effect of that one word was immediate. Uther’s eyes hardened instantly. Several council members made hushed exclamations. Elaine risked a quick glance at Merlin and found his gaze trained on Arthur, looking deeply troubled.

“I don't have time for this, physician,” Uther said dismissively, turning away. Elaine had noticed several times that any reasonableness her father might be said to have went straight out of the window the moment the word ‘magic’ was uttered; then he was as a man possessed with mania.

“It is born of magic, Sire, and it can only be killed by magic,” Gaius continued, unperturbed. Elaine suspected he was probably used to her father’s moods by now.

“You are mistaken!” Uther decreed, and Elained mused it was sometimes easy to see where her brother got his pig-headedness from. It was just more terrifying in her father. “It's a creature of flesh and blood like any other. Arthur proved that today.”

“I'm not so sure, Father,” Arthur interjected uneasily.  “I think there may be some truth in what he says.”

Uther rounded on him. “What truth?”

“The griffin was unharmed, Sire,” Arthur replied. “I struck it clean in the chest and it was as if it felt nothing. My spear broke. Our weapons seemed useless against it.

“Useless? I think not,” Uther contradicted him with an imperious wave of his hand. “No, it's tasted our steel once, the next time will be its last. When will your knights be ready to ride again?”

“An hour. Maybe two,” said Arthur, with the air of a man who knew that trying to argue was utterly useless.

“Good,” Uther nodded decisively.  “We finish this tonight!”

“Come on,” Arthur prompted Elaine quietly, taking her elbow. “I’ll walk you back to your chambers. Don’t venture outside until this is all over, you understand me? Tell Morgana the same. Keep your windows closed and stay indoors.”

“But what if Gaius is right, and you cannot kill the creature…” Elaine began.

Arthur cut her off with a scoff, but it felt hollow; performed. “Don’t worry about me, little mouse. I’m the ultimate killing machine, remember. I’m pretty sure I’m invincible.”

Elaine, Morgana and Gwen watched from the window of Elaine’s bedchamber as Arthur and his men rode out of the citadel into the darkness two hours later. Gwen, in a state of great distress, mentioned that someone had apparently released Lancelot and Elaine fervently hoped that the young man did not encounter the griffin on his way out of Camelot.

As it transpired, apparently Lancelot had indeed met the griffin.

Arthur and his men returned gravely in the pale light of dawn to much adulation and triumph from the crowds of people lining the city streets. But their numbers were significantly fewer than had ridden out.

Elaine, who had sat by her window with Morgana all night, was astonished to see Lancelot riding among them. He wore no red cloak, or indeed even full mail, but his bearing was as true as any other man in the company.

“Only half the number returns,” Morgana said tightly. “Good grief, have they lost so many? Arthur looks unharmed. Come, we’ll go down to him now.”

By the time Elaine and Morgana had descended to the great hall, Arthur was shut inside with Uther and Merlin and Lancelot were waiting anxiously outside the door, clearly in the middle of a very intense conversation. Elaine could hear her father and brother arguing within.

“I cannot take the credit for what I did not do,” Lancelot said to Merlin, a fiercely determined look in his eyes. “There'll be no more lies, no more deceit!”

“What are you going to do?” Merlin asked in alarm, eyes flitting towards Morgana and Elaine as though their presence alarmed him.

“The only thing I can do!” Lancelot decreed and, hurriedly bowing to the two ladies, he threw opened the doors to the great hall and strode in, closing them behind him with a bang.

“Merlin?” Elaine asked tentatively. “What’s happened?”

“Lancelot slew the griffin,” Merlin said, fidgety and troubled. “Arthur is arguing for your father to restore his knighthood but Uther…”

“Isn’t listening,” Morgana said drily, listening to the raised voices on the other side of the door. “I can’t say that comes as a great shock. But I thought the creature was magical and could not be slain by any normal weapon?”

“Lucky shot, I think,” Merlin said, non-committal. “But he got the lucky shot where it counted!”

A couple of hours later, while changing in preparation for a dinner in the knights’ honour, Elaine and Gwen stood once more at the window of her bedchamber and watched Lancelot’s cloak flutter behind him as he rode out of the city for good.

He had been pardoned as a reward for saving the kingdom from the griffin but that was as far as Uther had been willing to go. He had steadfastly refused to restore him to the rank of knight and had summarily banished him from the kingdom.

“He deserved better than that!” Gwen said fiercely. “He is a good man.”

“I liked him,” Elaine sighed wistfully. “He seemed everything that a knight should be. And now we will never see him again.”

“Nothing could have come of it, Elaine,” Morgana said softly.

“I know,” Elaine replied. And truly she did. Still though, it had been nice to dream, just a little, that there might be tenderness awaiting her rather than a cold, pragmatic marriage contract in which she had no say and would likely find no love. Gwen looked even unhappier than she.

“Come on now, little flower,” Morgana said soothingly. “Chin up. You too, Gwen. There will be other knights to capture your hearts soon enough, I dare say! Goodness knows we could do with a few more decent specimens around here!”

The great hall rang with celebration that night. Arthur and his men were toasted again and again as the saviours of the kingdom, slayers of the griffin, champions of the knights of Camelot until they were all quite rosy cheeked from the wine.

“You have proven once again that your men are the finest in the land,” Uther, in high good humour, complimented Arthur; conveniently forgetting that Lancelot had in fact been the one to slay the beast. “As I suspected, Gaius was mistaken in his estimation of the creature’s origin. There was no magic, sometimes a beast is just a beast.”

Elaine looked over to where Merlin was standing behind Arthur's chair, the usual lopsided grin on his face. “I cannot take the credit for what I did not do!” Lancelot had said to Merlin. But Arthur was adamant that he himself had not been the one to slay the beast. The beast Gaius said could only be defeated by magic.

Merlin had been the one to introduce Lancelot to Arthur. Merlin who had created such a convincing forgery of a noble seal that Uther had been taken in. Merlin who was once again standing there looking for all the world like he was an ordinary peasant boy and not someone who saved Elaine’s brother’s life on a monthly basis and, Elaine was certain, had just done so again.

Uther rose to his feet, goblet raised and called for everyone’s attention. “My lords and ladies, tonight our kingdom sleeps safer thanks to my son and his men. Through their valour, their discipline, their unstinting courage, the beast which preyed upon our lands is no more! I ask you to join me in raising a toast to them. To the defenders of the Camelot!!”

“To the defenders of Camelot!” roared the hall in unison.

And if Elaine discretely raised her goblet to Merlin, rather than to the knights, well that wasn’t anyone else’s business…

Chapter Text

The day Morgana didn’t wake, the sun disappeared from Camelot.

Not literally - the skies remained light and grey; autumn now having fully set in, paving the way for the chill of winter - but to Elaine, everything dulled the moment her beloved friend fell ill.

They had been so merry the night before. They had sat in Morgana’s chambers, talking excitedly of the approaching festival of Samhain, which celebrated the end of the harvest. The summer’s crops had been particularly bountiful and all was being gathered in; stored, pickled, preserved. There would be a sumptuous feast with wine and music and a great deal of dancing. Dancing was one of Elaine’s greatest joys and she was eagerly awaiting the night in question.

Morgana was similarly anticipatory, though not perhaps quite as effusive about it. She would surely have half the court approaching her for the first dance, and she had a particularly striking outfit planned; a gown of emerald green with a particularly fine jewelled collar.

The excitement was a joy in which even Gwen could participate as an equal. Though the servants did not get to join the full court banquet, they too were given a night to enjoy; the one straight afterwards. On that night the servants could hold their own dance in one of the lower halls as a reward for the year’s work, and the nobility tended to themselves for the evening.

Gwen seemed in particularly fine spirits, beaming with delight when she arrived at the door with a large vase of blooming white lilies. Their sweet fragrance wafted through the room, petals pure and creamy pale.

 “Look what has just arrived for you, my lady!” Gwen said, presenting them to Morgana with delight.

Morgana arched an amused eyebrow at Elaine and went to inspect the flowers with great interest. “Who are they from?”

“I don't know,” Gwen replied. “There was no name. Maybe from Arthur?!”

“How disappointing!” Morgana said drily.

Elaine stifled a laugh. “They are too fine for Arthur’s taste,” she agreed. “If he wished to send you flowers he would pull them from the palace garden and hand them to you still scattering earth on the rushes! They are very lovely though!”

“Would it truly be so disappointing if they were from Arthur?” Gwen teased her mistress. “Who should you like them to be from, my lady?”

Morgana hummed contemplatively. “I don't know. A tall, dark stranger?” she chuckled.

“Perhaps Sir Ranulf?” Elaine suggested. “Or Sir Guy?”

“Either is an improvement on Arthur!” Morgana replied archly. “Ranulf has a terribly wicked sense of humour and Guy has cheekbones gifted by the gods. Either will do. Perhaps I shall have one of them for the first dance at the festival! And who shall you wish for, little flower?”

“I don’t mind,” Elaine admitted placidly. “So long as I get to dance all the dances and my partner does not tread on my toes!”

“How about you, Gwen?” Morgana turned to her maid. “Have you been training Merlin up to sweep you off your feet at the servants’ celebration?”

“My lady, Merlin and I are only friends!” Gwen protested good naturedly for the umpteenth time. “Though of course I will dance with him if he offers!”

“All legs, that one!” Morgana laughed merrily. “I imagine it will be like watching a newborn colt! He’s a sweet boy though, you could do infinitely worse! Perhaps he will send you some flowers of his own! And on the subject of little flowers, it is high time you were abed, Elaine!”

“I am only four years younger than you!” Elaine pointed out indignantly. “I am not ten!”

“Yes, but I will be the one that Lady Isabella glowers at if you yawn at breakfast from being up too late! I am going to turn in too, so off you go. Goodnight, dearest!” Morgana and Elaine kissed one another on the cheek and Elaine hurried off to her own room.

No one had imagined even for a moment that Morgana would not wake in the morning.

Elaine rose to the sound of the tower bell as she had done every morning of her life. The autumn mornings were growing chilly now and when Edyth brought in her washing water she huddled by the fire to strip off her nightgown and wash as quickly as she could

Edyth was just lacing up the back of her linen shift when Gwen’s voice, rising in alarm, travelled down the corridor. “My lady? My lady!”

Disregarding the fact that she was barefoot and still clad only in her shift, Elaine ran from her room at once and down the corridor towards Morgana’s. The door was open. Inside, she found Gwen learning over an unresponsive Morgana, who was still lying prone in her bed.

“Lady Morgana!” Gwen shook her urgently, but Morgana’s head only lolled. She looked up at the sight of Elaine in the doorway. “I can’t rouse her!”

“Is she ill?” Elaine flew to Morgana’s side at once, laying the back of her hand on Morgana’s forehead. But there was not heat there. “There does not seem to be a fever, she is rather cold if anything! And I do not think she ate anything besides what the rest of us did yesterday. Morgana! Morgana!”

“Must you two caterwaul in the morning,” Arthur’s peevish voice floated in before he appeared in the doorway, Merlin at his heels. “It really is very… For the love of God, Elaine, go and put your clothes on! You can’t go running around the place in only your shift!”

“Morgana is unwell!” Elaine cried urgently, gesturing to the bed. “She won’t wake, but there is no sign of fever.”

“I’ve been calling her these past fifteen minutes, Your Highness,” Gwen added. “She hasn’t even stirred.”

Arthur’s face grew sober as he took in Morgana’s still form. “All right,” he said determinedly. “Merlin, you will go and fetch Gaius at once. Whatever else he may be doing can wait; bring him here immediately. I will go and find my father. Guinevere, stay here with Morgana. Elaine, go and put your bloody clothes on!”

Elaine was blind to everything but her worry as Edyth laced her into one of her warmer gowns; a rosy colour, the closest to red that she owned. The maid did not attempt to make her usual cheerful chatter and Elaine was glad of that. She could think of nothing but Morgana.

It was as though the sun had gone out of the world. The tapestries on the walls of her room lost their vibrant colours. The sweet scent of the rushes on her floor faded. Even the birdsong from outside her window, which normally delighted her in the morning, seemed to become lifeless.

Gaius would know what to do, surely? Or Merlin! Merlin had found a way around every unexpected occurrence in Camelot these last few months. He would know what to do. Of course he would!

Morgana would be all right. She had to be. She was the centre of Elaine’s world. She couldn’t…couldn’t….lose her!

She ran back to Morgana’s room with her hair still undone, the moment that her dress was fully laced, calling a thank you to Edyth over her shoulder.

She found Gwen devotedly bathing Morgana’s brow and gently washing her face.

“She hasn’t moved,” Gwen told Elaine thickly, her eyes full of tears. “It’s as though she is a statue!”

Elaine clutched uselessly at Morgana’s lifeless hand. “She will be all right,” she vowed out loud, though whether it was to reassure herself or Gwen she was uncertain. “Gaius will know what to do! He will help her. She’ll get well!”

“Of course she will,” Gwen said with the same trembling desperation, wiping round Morgana’s hairline and then her ears. “Won’t you, my lady? You’re going to get well!”

Elaine held Morgana’s hand against her chest. “No one in the world is more important to me!”

Gwen reached out to squeeze Elaine’s free hand. “I know,” she said softly. “Me too.”

When Uther and Gaius arrived, alongside Arthur and Merlin, the king brusquely ordered Gwen and Elaine aside with an impatient wave of his hand. Gwen backed away immediately, Elaine with more reluctance.

She watched tensely as her father’s face first paled and then hardened at the sight of Morgana. He went to sit immediately by her side, ignoring everyone else in the room.

“What ails her?” he demanded of Gaius, who was setting his instruments down on the cabinet beside her.

“If you will permit me to examine her, Sire,” Gaius said kindly. “I shall do my best to find out.”

The room waited with bated breath as Gaius felt Morgana’s wrist for her pulse, then checked her eyes, ears and mouth and palped the glands beneath her chin.

Gwen stood by the fireplace gulping back silent tears. Arthur paced like a caged animal… up and down, up and down the room. Merlin watched Gaius with an anxious tension in his eyes. Uther did not move. He might have been carved from marble.

“Was she well last night?” Gaius asked Gwen and Elaine.

“Yes,” Elaine nodded worriedly, anxiously twisting her hair. “We walked in the rose garden, and then we were here for the rest of the night, Gwen too. She seemed herself, she did not complain of feeling ill.”

“She went to bed just after Lady Elaine did,” Gwen said fretfully. “She was in good spirits, she ate the same as everyone else did at supper, I can think of no reason why she should not wake!”

 “There seems no obvious source of the illness, sire,” Gaius said gravely. “But there are several things I would like to try.”

“Heal her!” Uther said and, from him, it was less of a plea than an order.

Elaine took up residence at Morgana’s bedside and refused to leave. She asked Merlin to take a message to Lady Isabella to say that she would not be attending her lessons until Morgana was well.

Lady Isabella soon appeared, extremely cross, and was just in the process of sternly telling Elaine that she would be going to her lessons unless she wanted Isabella to go and talk to her father of her defiance – and she knew what that would lead to – when Gaius cut in.

“I think perhaps, my lady,” he said quietly. “That it would be wise to keep Lady Elaine here. I have yet to ascertain that cause of Morgana’s illness, nor ruled out the chance of contagion. As Elaine is the most frequently in her company, it would be prudent not to let the girl wander around the castle for now.”

“You know best, Gaius, I’m sure,” said Lady Isabella acidly, in a tone that made it quite clear that she was not sure. “But mark my words, young lady, I shall be having a word with you when this is over!”

“Thank you, Gaius!” Elaine said gratefully, when her governess had swept out of the room. “Can I help? Is there anything I can do? I feel so terribly useless!”

“Why don’t you read to her, my dear?” Gaius suggested gently, with a sympathetic pat to her shoulder. “There are some who believe that even when a body is non-responsive, the mind can still sense what is going on around them. I am sure Morgana will be glad to hear your voice.”

Glad of the chance to do something, whether or not it was actually of any use, Elaine eagerly seized a book from Morgana’s dresser, with a page already marked. She sat down by Morgana’s head and began to read.

“Sir Ælfræd carried the maiden over the threshold, his body awash with desire. Already he ached for her…” Elaine’s eyes grew wide. “He lay her down upon the bed and unlaced her bodice, freeing her trembling…” She slammed the book shut guiltily, face beginning to burn. Good grief, Lady Isabella would have convulsions if she knew what Morgana was reading! And even if Elaine was curious to read more, she couldn’t say things like that in front of Gaius!

“Um…I think I shall go and fetch one of my own books!”

Her father appeared periodically as the day passed. His worry further sharpened all the ways in which he was already hard. He was colder and more irritable, his speech clipped, impatient and demanding with Gwen and Gaius, and derisive to Elaine.

“Have you naught better to do, than to sit here in the way?” he demanded angrily when Elaine had tried to say something comforting to him. “Why are you not at your lessons instead of sitting here whimpering and impeding Gaius in his work?”

“I assure you, sire, she has done no such thing,” Gaius said. Elaine felt pathetically grateful to have someone stand up for her. Gaius had always been kind to her, for as long as she could remember. “I have advised her to read to Morgana in the event that a familiar voice may soothe her. It may help anchor Morgana’s consciousness.”

The Pendragon line did not cope with worry well. Arthur, bearing the brunt of his own stress, as well as their father’s, did as he always did when things were fraught: he became terse and cutting, his sharp remarks cutting deeper than usual. He was borderline rude to Gaius, appallingly rude to Merlin, and told Elaine that the sound of her snivelling made him want to throttle her.

Merlin told him to bugger off, Elaine just apologised.

The hours ticked endlessly by. She read till her voice grew hoarse. She and Gwen took turns wiping Morgana’s face with cool cloths. They brushed her hair and bathed her temples with lavender water, watching her lashes intently in desperation of any sign of movement.

Gaius tried everything; powders, poultices, tinctures. Nothing helped.

In this way, two days crawled by. Neither Gwen nor Elaine left the room except to use the privy and at night they slept fitfully on the floor on either side of Morgana’s bed.

 It was Merlin, of course it was, who noticed their exhaustion and distress.

“You haven’t left her side in two days,” he said to Elaine gently as he looked in on the third day on his way to Arthur’s chambers.

“She wouldn’t leave mine!” Elaine murmured exhaustedly. “When I had the fever, she never left me. She held my hand. I can’t leave her, Merlin.”

Merlin looked at her quietly, then pulled a small linen pouch from his belt. “Here. It’s made from lavender, with a little valerian. Mix it into some tea, and it will help you rest a little. Even an hour or two’s nap might help you.”

“I can’t!” Elaine pleaded. “If something happens while I sleep…”

“Then we would wake you,” Merlin offered kindly, his lips curling up in the merest hint of a sympathetic smile. “You can’t keep going on nothing – you look exhausted. But if you won’t rest, then at least let me get the kitchens to send something up for you and Gwen? You’ve barely eaten.”

She blinked at him, then nodded, before suddenly throwing her arms around him in a grateful hug. Merlin stiffened, patting her back somewhat awkwardly, but Elaine did not mind. It felt nice to know that at least someone understood what she and Gwen were feeling.

By mid-morning, everyone had gathered back in Morgana’s room once more, acknowledging the fact that there had been no change.

“It is as if her body has simply shut down,” Gaius said gravely. “I have tried everything within my abilities. There is nothing I can do for sire, I fear she has only days left.”

Elain choked on a sob, pressing her hands to her mouth. Gwen turned away, distraught.

Arthur’s brows lowered in furious denial. “We cannot let her die!” he cried, voice echoing through the silent chamber. “For God’s sake Elaine, will you shut up!”

“Arthur, please!” Uther snapped at him, before glaring at his daughter. “Be quiet, Elaine!”

Arthur was uncowed by the rebuke, his expression desperate. “There's a man, he came to the castle yesterday. He claims he can cure her!”

“That's ridiculous,” Uther said impatiently. “He doesn't know what's wrong with her.”

“He says he has a remedy that can cure all ills,” Arthur insisted.

“Such a thing is impossible,” Gaius told him with gentle firmness.

“Well, for Morgana's sake, surely we should at least hear him out?” Arthur said, his voice rough with emotion. “I mean, what've we got to lose? Please, Father!”

“Probably some charlatan hoping for a quick shilling,” Gaius said gravely.

“I don't care!” exploded Arthur. “If she's about to die, what harm can it do? Give him his bloody shilling! If there's one chance in a million he can save her, then why not?”

Uther took one last look at Morgana’s still form and heaved a slow, seemingly steeling sigh. “Send for him.”

Elaine did not go below with them to greet the purveyor of this so-called medical marvel. She stayed with Morgana, as did Gwen.

She sank to her knees by Morgana’s bedside, still holding Morgana’s hand, and prayed to whichever gods or spirits might be listening. Please, she begged, do not take her from me. She’s the person I love most in the world. Please do not take her. I will give anything in return. I will be better. I will not complain when Isabella makes me recite the lineages. I will marry whoever my father commands. I will stop being such a coward. Whatever you ask…just let her live!

She was startled out of her thoughts when the chamber door opened and everyone returned, along with a tall, lean cloaked figure with a badly scarred face. He looked as though he had terribly burnt at some point in his life. Elaine hurriedly looked away, feeling that it was rude to stare, slightly ashamed by how unnerved he made her feel. She realised that the man had Merlin carrying his equipment behind him.

“Put my equipment over there,” he ordered in a high, slightly odd voice. “Sire, I would be grateful if you could have everyone leave the room. I require peace and privacy.”

“Certainly,” Uther replied and Elaine blinked in astonishment to hear her father agree to someone’s demands so easily.

“That includes you, Gaius,” continued the stranger. Something in the way he spoke to Gauis, superciliousness wrapped up in politeness, set Elaine’s hackles rising. She was fond of Gaius, he was practically part of their family. Who was this fellow to talk to him in such a way?!

“But I am eager to learn from your methods,” Gaius said, showing no sign of offence.

“Now is not the time for giving instruction,” said the man dismissively. Elaine’s eyes narrowed in annoyance. “I will need all my concentration!”

Gaius reluctantly acquiesced and followed Arthur out. But Elaine stayed where she was; she had no intention of leaving. Supposing the man was a charlatan? Supposing he was no help at all and Morgana died with no one to hold her hand because they had all been sent out of the room. Morgana would never have left her side; she owed it to Morgana to be brave.

“I understand the young lady is greatly distressed,” Edwin said to Uther, speaking as though Elaine were not there. “But she would be a distraction.”

“Elaine!” Uther barked angrily.

“I will stay over by the corner,” Elaine insisted. “I won’t make a sound, I promise. I will not interfere in any way. But I am not leaving her! You cannot make me!”

“I really must insist…” Edwin began but the rest of his words were lost as Uther seized Elaine roughly by the upper arm and dragged her roughly out of the room.

Merlin winced as the sound of a hand striking flesh, followed by Elaine’s wails of pain, echoed down the corridor.

Later that afternoon, more than anyone had dared to hope for, Morgana stirred in her bed.

Elaine, sitting very gingerly, nearly sobbed with joy as the older girl opened her eyes, looking for all the world as though she had merely been having a very long nap.

“Morgana! Oh Morgana, you’re back,” Elaine whispered, clutching her hand.

Morgana smiled faintly. “I did not realise I was away?” she said wryly. “What is the matter with you both?”

Elaine and Gwen took turns hugging her, and then each other, in joy. Tears were shed all around as they told her the news and all that had happened over the last few days.

“It seems as though I owe this Edwin a great debt,” she said quietly.

Before further conversations could be had, Uther all but burst into the room.

“Morgana, this is truly a miracle!” he said tightly, crossing the room to embrace her and kiss her forehead. Elaine, mindful of his earlier anger, hurriedly scurried out of his way and kept quiet. “I thought... I really thought...”

“Oh, you won't get rid of me that easily,” Morgana smiled, clearly moved by his emotion.

“What exactly did he give you?” Gaius asked Morgana quietly, having followed Uther into the room.

“I have no idea. But thank heaven he did,” Morgana replied.

It was not until the evening that Elaine and Gwen learned that Edwin had revealed that Morgana had suffered from something called cerebral haemorrhage, and that Gaius had failed to diagnose it by missing the blood in her ear.

“My lady, there was no blood in her ear!” Gwen hissed quietly to Elaine, taking Elaine aside in the corridor when Arthur had come to visit Morgana. “You know that as well as I do. We washed her every morning and every evening, we would have spotted it. He told the king that Gaius’s error might have been the end of Morgana.”

Elaine nodded quietly, mind spinning. Gwen was right – Elaine would swear it to anyone as an absolute fact that there had been no blood in Morgana’s ear at any point during her illness. But why was Edwin so willing to insist that there was?

“No, there was definitely no blood,” she said, her brows drawn thoughtfully together. “But I don’t understand… what does this Edwin stand to gain by undermining Gaius? My father loves Morgana more than anyone but Arthur.” The more than me went unsaid – Elaine had never verbalised that thought out loud; it felt petty and whiny though she had long since accepted it. “Edwin is guaranteed his favour and any reward he chooses just by curing her. Why does he need to lie?”

“And why did he insist on having everyone out of the room while he worked?” Gwen pressed. “I could perhaps have understood wanting some of us out, but why insist on Gaius and Merlin leaving too? Something isn’t right, my lady!”

“What do you think we should do?” Elaine said quietly.

“I don’t think you should do anything, my lady,” Gwen said sympathetically. “I don’t think it wise for you to risk angering your father again after earlier.”

Elaine flushed in miserable embarrassment but she could hardly deny it. The entire corridor had heard her father punish her for her refusing to leave Morgana’s chambers.

“Merlin is the physician’s assistant,” Gwen continued. “There’s no reason why he shouldn’t be around Edwin, or ask questions. I’ll ask him to keep his eyes open.”

“Good idea,” Elaine nodded with genuine agreement. Merlin, more than anyone, she trusted to get to the bottom of mysterious unexplained occurrences - he seemed to do it every other week. “But tell him not to endanger himself and not to do anything…rash.”

But when the following morning arrived, they all realised just how deeply Edwin’s undermining of Gaius had actually gone. Uther was in his solar, with his children and ward when the scarred physician answered his summons.

“I have been through the court medical records with a fine-tooth comb, Sire,” he bowed to Uther.

The medical records? Elaine frowned – why was such a thing necessary? No one had ever had cause to complain of Gaius’s efficacy or his manner! Everyone respected Gaius. What right had this interloper to be snooping around the records?

“And were your findings satisfactory?” her father asked. His manner was very solemn, as though something both very important and very consequential was afoot.

“With regret, I would have to say they were not,” Edwin replied.

“How so?”

“Gaius is a great man, thorough, and dedicated,” Edwin began, his manner so obsequiously false that Elaine wanted to throw her goblet at him.

“But?” Uther put in significantly.

Edwin sighed and continued with the pretence of great regret. “His methods are outdated. He has failed to keep up with the latest developments. This has led to a number of errors.”

You’re lying, you’re lying, you’re lying!

“Gaius has served me well for twenty years,” Uther responded gravely and Elaine was at least relieved to see her father was not quite so ungrateful as to forget that fact.

“And one cannot blame him for the infirmity those years have brought. Age can be a terrible curse,” Edwin said smoothly.

“Perhaps it is time to lighten his burdens. Have you given any more thought to my offer?” Uther prompted him.

Offer? What offer?

“Yes. I have considered it very carefully.” Edwin smiled significantly and Elaine’s jaw tightened. Loathing coursed through her like lava.

“Allow me some time to do the same,” Uther nodded in dismissal, and Edwin retreated with a bow, leaving the king alone with his children and his ward once more.

“Uther, you can't do this!” Morgana cried at once, sounding horrified.

“You heard what he said. Gaius is old, he makes mistakes,” Uther told her, but his voice was not harsh. Morgana’s illness was still too fresh in his memory for him to get angry with her for questioning him.

“Gaius has treated me since before I can remember. You can't cast him out,” Morgana pleaded.

“You would have died if your care had been left to him. That's something I could not bear!” Uther said tersely, a sliver of emotion showing in his eyes.

“I know that, but ...” Morgana’s voice grew softer as she and Elaine exchanged horrified glances.

“I cannot risk something like this happening again!” Uther said decidedly.

“But Father, Gaius is…” Elaine burst out, unable to stay silent any longer.

“You will be silent!” Uther rounded on her furiously. Unlike Morgana, she had not been ill and so had nothing to mitigate his ire. “If you had been given your way, your histrionics might have hindered her recovery completely. Go to your chambers at once!”

“But you’re not…”

“Go!” Uther thundered, and Elaine’s courage crumpled, as it so often did, in the face of his anger.

As she dutifully climbed the stairs to her chambers, she bitterly lamented over the frustrating unfairness of being so very visibly Pendragon in every way and yet not inheriting any of the bravery.

She passed Merlin near the top of the stairs.

“Merlin! Edwin…he…” she began in desperation.

“He’s lying, I know,” Merlin assured her, a hard glint in his eye. “There are no mistakes in Gaius’s work. Don’t worry – I’ll think of something to expose him! Just…trust me.”

What with being confined to her rooms for the night and the following morning being commandeered at once by a very cross Lady Isabella who insisted she resume her lessons right this instant, Elaine missed the last hours of Edwin’s presence in Camelot. Her morning had been full of Lady Isabella’s voice, barely stopping for breath, threatening that if she did not pay attention she would be sent to her chambers instead of attending the Samhain feast in a fortnight’s time.

She only learned later from Arthur and Morgana that her father had announced he was retiring Gaius, and replacing him with Edwin. It was at that point that Edwin had then poisoned Uther and tried to kill him. They told her that it was only Gaius’s timely actions had prevented the king’s death.

Uther had even gone so far as to admit he was wrong to cast Gaius aside. He wouldn’t say “I’m sorry”, of course not. Her father did not apologise, not ever, he was like Arthur in that regard. But for once, he did at least admit that he had made a wrong decision.

Elaine wasn’t sure how exactly it was that Gaius had saved her father, but when she met Merlin’s eyes in the evening, when the whole court was summoned to the great hall, he gave her a smiling nod as though to say “don’t worry – everything was taken care of”.

As Gaius arrived in the hall, everyone rose to their feet and Elaine fondly noted that Merlin’s expression became openly proud. She thought that their relationship had become rather like that of father and son. It must be nice, she mused, having a father who did not terrify you, constantly find fault with you and put you across his knee every time you displeased him.

As if in answer to her thoughts, Uther Pendragon rose to his feel, a ceremonial scroll in his hand. “I, my family, and my kingdom are deeply indebted to you, Gaius,” he announced formally. “And in honour of this, I not only reinstate you as court physician, but henceforth, you are a free man of Camelot.”

The scroll was handed to Gaius and the court burst into please applause; Gaius was well respected by everyone. Elaine dutifully clapped with everyone else, thinking longingly of her own chambers, having barely slept in several days. She couldn’t wait to go to bed, and stifled a yawn hurriedly.

“You’re wilting, little flower,” Morgana said with a smile, wrapping an arm around her. “What you need is a few quiet weeks and you’ll be right as rain.”

But as she watched Merlin approach Gaius and proudly slap the old man on the back so fiercely it almost knocked him over, Elaine couldn’t help but note that quiet weeks in Camelot seemed few and far between these days!

Chapter Text

It was Camelot…of course the weeks that followed were anything but quiet and peaceful.

Morgana’s mysterious illness seemed to have taken its toll on her. Always a poor sleeper, her nights grew even fraught. She was tormented with nightmares, with a sense of approaching dread and with a growing fear that perhaps her dreams were not the straightforward dreams of an ordinary young woman.

Elaine did everything she did to comfort her, only too willing to be the one comforting her friend for once rather than the other way around. When she heard Morgana crying out in the night, she would slip from her own bed immediately and hurry down to Morgana’s chambers. She would pour a glass of water from the carafe by Morgana’s bed, hug her and soothe her tears, then would inevitably get into bed beside her and would spend the rest of the night curled against Morgana’s side.

“You’re overtired, Morgana, you’ve been unwell,” she would say, over and over again, holding Morgana’s hand and stroking her hair. “There’s nothing to worry about. You just need to rest. Bad dreams can’t hurt you.”

“Of course,” Morgana would reply, her grip tight and tense. But she never sounded particularly convinced.

Elaine tried to distract her from her worries during the day with talk of the approaching Samhain festivities whenever she was free from her lessons. But Morgana seemed to have lost any sense of excitement or anticipation for the festival; waving Elaine’s remarks aside with an exhausted hand.

Gwen’s encouragement and care seemed to have no better effect either. Morgana looked more and more haunted as the days passed, as though a cloud was hanging over her head, just waiting to burst.

Merlin, meanwhile, was in rather good spirits. This would be his first Samhain since his arrival in Camelot and he was greatly enjoying the preparations for the festivities, particularly the delicious scents continually emanating from the kitchen. He was on especially good terms with Hesta, one of the head cooks (she had taken one look at him during his first week and harrumphed that he “needed feeding; all skin and bones!”) and so she was usually pretty generous with letting him sample things if he looked sufficiently woeful. Samhain had been a simple, spiritual time in Ealdor, but here in Camelot it was also a time of plenty so there was never any shortage of delicious things to try.

On top of that, Arthur was in a reasonably good mood (read: arrogant, bossy and domineering still, but not actively antagonistic or vindictive) and no one had tried to kill him for a few days. It meant that life as Merlin knew it was going pretty well.

He and Elaine continued to seek each other out, their friendship now very firmly established; easy and cheerful. They would mutually vent about the chief plagues of their existence (Arthur for him, Lady Isabella for her), gossip about the various members of the court, and joke with each other with a free and easy merriment. 

Merlin had learned from the other servants very early on that Lady Elaine and Lady Morgana were the two most beloved members of the court from the servants’ point of view, and the more time he spent with her the more he understood why. As the King’s trueborn daughter, Elaine could have easily turned out as arrogant and supercilious as her brother, but she seemed to be Arthur’s opposite in every way. She was gentle where he was loud, sweet-tempered where he was snappish and spoke kindly to everyone from the lowest kitchen boy to the head of her father’s council. It wasn't that Merlin had never had a friend before, he'd just never had one quite like her.

She was almost always with Morgana, and by extension Gwen, but her face lit up with delight every time she saw Merlin. She often brought cakes or sweets from the kitchens to Gaius’s rooms for him, especially when Arthur was in a difficult mood. The cheekier he was about her brother, the more she laughed.

Merlin grew fonder of her by the day. His friendship with Arthur – if you could call it friendship when the other party was your boss and a dramatic, bossy git – was filled with banter, snark and admiration couched in insults, but every time he looked at Elaine, he remembered that on his first day in Camelot she had risked a beating from her father to bring water to the stocks for a complete stranger. Protecting Arthur was his destiny, but if anyone ever hurt Elaine, Merlin would destroy them.

“Will you ask Gwen for a dance?” she asked him one afternoon when he came across her walking in the herb garden.

“A dance?” Merlin repeated incredulously, wondering if he had missed part of the conversation somewhere.

“Yes. You know, at the servants ball?” Elaine replied. “Father gives the servants three nights’ celebration a year: Beltane, Yule and Samhain. You will all get the night after the court banquet off and there is a dance in the lower hall.”

“I…I don’t dance!” Merlin stammered hurriedly. Oh gods, were they going to make him wear that hat again?

“But you must dance, Merlin, that’s the best part of any festival!” she said earnestly; her eyes wide and expressive. “I’d dance all night if Father would allow me!”

“But I don’t know how!” Merlin protested, growing alarmed. “It’s not as though there were balls in Ealdor! Surely I can just watch?”

“Well then,” Elaine replied with surprising firmness. Suddenly, her resemblance to Arthur seemed much clearer. “There are ten days to go. I shall just have to teach you.”

“You’re going to teach me,” Merlin repeated flatly, his voice coming out completely unenthused. “To dance?”

“Absolutely!” Elaine beamed. “Come and find me after supper! We’ll use our solar!”

She looked so genuinely delighted by the idea that Merlin didn’t have the heart to refuse her.

“You needn’t look so worried!” Elaine laughed when an apprehensive Merlin arrived at her and Morgana’s solar after the evening meal. “You wake my brother up of a morning – I assure you anything else must be a breeze.”

“That depends! Are you going to start throwing things at me if I annoy you?” Merlin quipped with a wry smile. "That's what he does!"

“Hardly! All right, so I’m not sure what exact dances they’ll perform at the servant’s ball but we’ll go over all the basics and that is sure to stand you in good stead. Stand up nice and straight. You know, you’re a lot taller than you seem, you shouldn’t slouch your shoulders. There, that’s better. And look straight ahead, not at your feet.”

“I see the Pendragon bossiness is in you after all!” Merlin grumbled. “You’ve just got nicer manners!”

“I shall take that as a compliment!” Elaine smiled, undeterred, and held out her hands. “Now, take my hands. The secret to any dance is simply being able to count the measure. We’ll start simple. We shall take four steps to the right, then stop, then four steps back. Ready? One…two…three…ow!”

“Sorry!” Merlin said, genuinely apologetic, having trod rather firmly on her slippered foot.

“No harm done, you are lighter than Sir Bors! All right back the other way: one…two…three…four!”

Back and forth along the solar they went, until Merlin could do the steps with a sprightly skip. Then she taught him the various turns: firstly, her spinning under his arm; secondly walking a circle in tandem with their arms linked at the elbow, and lastly some terribly complicated one where they joined hands each in the small of the other’s back.

“You’re doing terribly well for your first lesson!” she told him delightedly as they practiced another set of turns. “You shall be ready for a ballroom in no time! You will just need to practice your conversation.”

“My conversation?” repeated Merlin in confusion.

“You know, when someone says something to you, and you say something back?” Elaine smiled impishly. “It doesn’t do simply to dance in silence, you must talk to your partner!”

“And say what? Sorry if I stomp on your toes every five seconds, a bossy little princess told me I shouldn’t look at my feet!” Merlin shot back with a grin.

“You remark on how fine an evening it is, how many couples are on the floor,” Elaine told him, correcting his posture with a gentle hand. “I know Gwen has a new dress she’s going to wear, so tell her she looks particularly lovely. Every time I dance with Sir Leon he begins by saying how splendid the music is! And if you’re partner is very agreeable at conversation, you won’t be too concerned about counting in your head!”

“You really do enjoy this, don’t you?” Merlin remarked in surprise.

“I do so love music,” Elaine responded with a slightly melancholy smile. “And when I am dancing, I feel like I can be free. Ever other minute of my life must meet my father’s standards, or Lady Isabella’s. But on a dance floor, one can laugh and jump and spin and be merry and I can be just the same as anyone else. And if nothing else, it’s good fun!”

“Arthur! Arthur, no!”

As Morgana’s cries echoed down the dark corridor, Elaine sprang from her bed without being fully aware of what she was doing. Pulling a robe quickly over her nightgown, she hurried down the corridor to Morgana’s chambers, just as she had done every night for the past week.

“Morgana?” she called gently, slipping in through the door.

The room was lit by moonlight streaming in through the large window. She could see Morgana sat up in bed, her hair damp with sweat and her eyes wide and terrified.

Elaine was at her side in an instant, reaching for her hand. “It’s all right, dearest,” she said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “You were only dreaming again.”

“Arthur is in danger!” Morgana cried wildly.

“Arthur is in bed asleep, listen…” Elaine soothed her gently, stroking her damp hair. “You can hear him snoring even down at his end of the corridor. It was only a nightmare, Morgana.”

“It isn’t…you don’t…” Morgana gabbled wildly, but she accepted the water Elaine poured for her.

“I’ll stay with you,” Elaine said again, as she had done these past seven nights. “Come on, try to go back to sleep. I won’t let anything harm you.”

“You’re about as fierce as a baby rabbit, Elaine!” Morgana said, a hint of her old self returning.

“Perhaps, but I’m terribly good at snuggling and I’ll wager that keeps nightmares away better than anything else.”

When they’d curled up together under the blankets, Elaine tentatively asked: “What is it that you dreamt of?”

Morgana suddenly stiffened and turned away. “Never mind,” she said tightly. “It was only a dream. Go back to sleep now.”

The follow day, news spread around the citadel that Arthur had returned from a ride with two unexpected guests in tow; Aulfirc of Tir-Mor and his daughter Sophia. Arthur had apparently come to their timely aid when they were set upon by bandits and, as displaced nobility, Uther had graciously offered Camelot’s hospitality until such time as they were ready to be on their way once more to their kin in the south.

“She’s very pretty, isn’t she?” Elaine remarked to Morgana. They were walking in one of the lower cloisters together – Elaine had hoped that a little air might do Morgana good – when they caught sight of Sophia being shown around by Arthur, Merlin at his heels. “Morgana? What’s the matter?”

Morgana had gone so white that Elaine feared she might faint, and grabbed Elaine’s elbow so tightly that the younger girl winced. “She cannot be here! She must leave!”

“Father has told them they remain here as long as they need to,” Elaine replied worriedly. “Why? What harm do you think she will cause? Are you quite well, Morgana? Perhaps you should go lie…”

“You don’t understand!” Morgana snapped fretfully, brushing Elaine’s concerned touch away. “Of course you don’t! How ever could you?”

“Wait where are you going?” Elaine called after her as Morgana stormed away.

“I need to some peace and quiet! Alone!”

That night, when he and Gaius were eating supper, Gaius informed Merlin of his concerns regarding Morgana: “She came to talk to me this afternoon. The night before Sophia and Aulfric came to Camelot, Morgana had a dream. Sophia was in it.”

“Before she arrived in Camelot?” Merlin raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“I've been watching Morgana since she was very young,” Gaius said very gravely. “And though I tried to persuade myself otherwise, I realised some of the things she’s said she's dreamt have come to pass. I kept it secret from Uther, of course. The gift of prophecy is too close to the work of magic.”

“You think Morgana is a seer?” Merlin cried in astonishment. He had been convinced he was the only person in the citadel with hidden powers. This was…this was a significant shock. Did anyone know? What would happen if the King knew? Did Elaine know? Did Arthur?

“I don't think it. I fear it. Morgana said she dreamt that Sophia killed Arthur,” Gaius pulled his attention back into the room.

“Couldn't that have just been a dream?” Merlin reasoned. “Maybe  the woman Morgana saw just looked like Sophia.”

“That's what I hoped. But Aulfric caught me in Sophia's room and, in a flash of anger, his eyes changed colour,” Gaius sighed.

“Who are they?” Merlin questioned hurriedly.

“It's not who they are that worries me,” Gaius said wearily. “It's what they want with Arthur.”

Just as Merlin’s hackles were rising, there came a knock at the door to Gaius’s rooms. Merlin shot to his feet, mind still reeling with what he had just learned – Sophia might have designs on Arthur, Morgana was a seer, he wasn’t the only different person in Camelot, Aulfric suspected Gaius… was this Aulfric now? Come to eliminate a threat?

But it was not Aulfric who entered the chambers when Gaius called ‘come in’. It was Elaine.

“Elaine,” Gaius’s voice softened at once. “What can I do for you, my dear?”

“I’m worried about Morgana,” Elaine said quietly. In the candlelight, Merlin thought she suddenly looked terribly young. She twisted her fingers anxiously around one another as she spoke. “She isn’t sleeping well. She hasn’t been for days, but it’s worse than normal. I don’t think she’s had more than three hours unbroken sleep since she was ill. She’s growing jumpy and distressed. She takes the sleeping draught you give her every night, Gaius, but I do not think it’s helping her anymore.”

“Morgana came to see me this afternoon,” Gaius told Elaine. Merlin noticed that his voice had a studied soothing lightness to it; the tone clearly meant to indicate there is nothing whatsoever to worry about. “I have given her a stronger draught. That should help her sleep tonight.”

“She seemed convinced that Arthur is in danger,” Elaine said, and Merlin noticed a slight hesitance in her tone now, her eyes darting quickly to him before returning to Gaius. “She was adamant about it.”

“Morgana has been very unwell,” said Gaius in that same soothing tone, moving to give Elaine a grandfatherly pat on the back. “It can set the humours off balance and linger in the system for weeks. I know how much you care for Morgana, but the best thing you can do for her is ensure she gets plenty of rest and does not over exert herself. I know Gwen will help you with that.”

“Then she’s well?” Elaine pressed pleadingly.

“Just in need of a good night’s sleep,” Gaius smiled. “As are you, my dear. Go on with you now, you go back up to bed.”

“All right. Good night, Gaius. Night Merlin,” Elaine gave them a wan smile and slipped quietly back out of the room.

“Why didn’t you tell her?” asked Merlin at once. He felt atrocious withholding the information, seeing the pleading and worried look on his friend’s face. “About Morgana? Elaine’s devoted to her, she would never hurt her. For that matter, why not tell Morgana?”

“Merlin, I’ve known Elaine since she was a baby,” Gaius said heavily, and Merlin suddenly noticed the sheer weariness on his mentor’s face. “There’s not a person in this citadel with a purer heart. She would look at Morgana only with compassion. But you’ve seen how Uther is. His obsession with eradicating magic overpowers every other feeling he has. I would not vouch for Morgana’s safety if he were to discover he gift. As for Elaine, he has been so hard on that child that she fears him above all else. The stress of keeping such a secret would nigh drive her to distraction, and she may well inadvertently give it away if Uther were to interrogate her. It is far better to keep her in the dark. I know you are fond of her, but do not endanger her by sharing secrets that may put a noose around your neck and bruises on hers.”

When Elaine went to Morgana’s room that night, her door was locked. She’d heard Morgana’s cries and come running as usual, but blinked in astonishment when she found the door barred.

“Morgana?” she called softly. “It’s me. Are you all right? Unlock the door and I’ll…”

“I’m fine!” Morgana’s voice called from the other side, but it was revealingly tremulous. “Go back to your bed Elaine! I don’t need company tonight!”

Bewildered, and slightly hurt, Elaine had no choice but to obey. Morgana had never shut her out before, not since the day she had arrived in Camelot as a bereaved ten year old and become the centre of Elaine’s life. What was going on?

Sleep eluded Elaine for the rest of the night.

When she arrived at breakfast, she discovered that Morgana was not the only one acting out of character. Arthur was missing and he had left an obviously-lying Merlin to babble through some paltry excuse to her father that he, Merlin, had forgotten to pass on crucial messages and that it was actually his fault that Arthur was not where he was supposed to be.

It was clear to anyone who listened to him, even if they did not know him as well as she did, that Merlin was lying to protect Arthur, but that did not seem to matter to her father. He tersely ordered Merlin confined to the stocks for the morning and turned dismissively back to his breakfast, too concerned with the pallor on Morgana’s face to notice the outrage on Elaine’s.

The moment breakfast was concluded, Elaine made at once for the training field, hoping that Guy or Leon would be there; certain that she could count on one of them to help her. When she reached the field, her eyes hurriedly scanned the numerous red-cloaked figures drilling together. There was no sign of Leon’s tall curl-pated frame, but she was soon able to pick out a familiar head of shining blond hair.

“Sir Guy!” she called.

“Lady Elaine!” Guy looked astonished to see her there, but hurried over at once attentively. “Is there something the matter, my lady? Your brother is…”

“Elsewhere, yes, I know,” Elaine said hurriedly. “Guy, might I beg you to escort me down into the city? It’s urgent and I am forbidden to go alone. Please?”

Guy paused a moment, his handsome face looking troubled: clearly torn between wanting to tell Elaine that the lower city was no place for her and his usual gentlemanly urge to answer any lady’s request for aid, much less the king's daughter.

“Please Guy!” Elaine pleaded again. Oh Gods, she thought desperately, please let him say yes. If she went alone, her father’s wrath would be titanic.

“Of course, I would be honoured to help you,” Guy gave in at once. Really, Elaine thought, it was astonishing that Arthur had grown up with Guy and Leon and never picked up so much as one whisper of their agreeable manners. “Give me just one moment and I am at your service.”

Sheathing his sword and neatening his appearance, he gave Elaine his arm and the two of them headed down into the city together.

“Where do you need to go to, my lady?” Guy asked, hurriedly steering her out of the path of a particularly aggressive horse.

“The stocks,” Elaine said, hurriedly  gathering her skirts up to save the hem trailing in things she had rather not mention.

Guy stopped in his tracks, his face incredulous. “The stocks?!”

“Yes!” Elaine insisted with as much force as she could. “My stupid brother has absconded somewhere with his pretty new guest, abandoning his duties and he left poor Merlin to lie for him! Of course Father blamed Merlin and I won’t have him pelted with vegetables for Arthur’s sake!”

She continued determinedly on and Guy had to hurriedly catch up with her. “But my lady, you cannot free him!” he told her, clearly believing she had taken leave of her senses. “Your lord father will not…”

“I know I cannot free him,” Elaine said, as they reached the square in which the stocks stood. “But that does not mean I cannot help!”

There were already a few of the city dwellers, mostly adolescents, lobbing vegetables at Merlin, but it was yet early and a large crowd had still to gather.

Elaine calmly made her way up to the stocks and Merlin looked round in horrified astonishment at the sight of her. “Elaine, what are you doing here?” he gasped worriedly. “You’ll get into so much trouble! If the king finds out…”

“I’m not alone,” Elaine assured him at once, gesturing behind her though the limitations of the stocks meant he could not see. “Guy is with me. But it has been a rather tiring walk down here and I think I may just rest a while.”

To Merlin’s evident astonishment, and Guy’s total incredulity, Elaine plonked herself down at the foot of the stocks as easily as if she were sitting on a bench in the castle rose garden. She arranged her skirts demurely around her and smiled pleasantly up at the adolescent boys who had been pelting Merlin.

Throwing vegetables at Prince Arthur’s foolish manservant was one thing, but throwing things at the risk of hitting the Princess of Camelot, with a knight standing three paces away from her, was quite another. The boys gathered up their ammunition and vanished back into the hubbub of the square.

“Would you like to join me, Guy?” Elaine turned her smile up to him. “I find myself terribly tired and will probably sit here a while. Perhaps until Merlin is released!”

“I understand you quite well, my lady.” Guy laughed good-naturedly, sitting down beside her. “Very well then, I shall keep you company. What shall we talk of?”

“I was just telling Merlin the other day he needed to improve his small talk for the Samhain feast!” Elaine said. “Listen, Merlin, and Guy will show you how it is done!”

For the next three hours, until he was released, Merlin stood in the stocks with Uther Pendragon’s daughter and one of the kingdom’s finest knights at his feet.

Not a single further vegetable was thrown.

If it had been a strange morning, the afternoon got even more bizarre. Arthur announced to his father that he was in love with Sophia and was going to marry her immediately and Uther responded to this with about as much reasonableness as one might expect. Elaine, while glad not to be the one on the receiving end of her father’s ire, watched in astonishment as Arthur argued with their father to the point Uther threatened to have Sophia executed. What on earth had gotten into him?

It was not as though Arthur was new to the attention of pretty women. At every royal feast there were any number of unattached (and some attached!) young noblewomen vying for his attention. Not to mention the fact he verbally jousted with Morgana almost every day, and Elaine loyally thought that Morgana was far more beautiful than Sophia.

Besides, she thought rather childishly, if she had to be married off in a dynastic match her brother should bloody well have to bear one too!

Morgana was growing more and more upset, further needled by Arthur’s insinuations that she was only distressed because she was jealous, and when Elaine offered to keep her company overnight, she was once again refused.

Merlin brought her a goblet of spiced wine from the kitchens to thank her for coming to the stocks for him and it had been such an absolute confusing, frustrating whirlwind of a day that she knocked back the wine in one and was asleep in minutes.

…only to wake to the news that Arthur had apparently tried to elope

“Oh yes!” Merlin said cheerfully. “Totally mad for her. He was beyond reason – it was a bit pathetic really – so I had to hit him round the head with a lump of wood and drag him…owwww! Arthur!”

“I said you could tell no one, Merlin!”

“Elaine’s your sister, surely she’s allowed to…owwww! Stop it! Stop it! All right, your secret is safe with me, sire!”

With Sophia and her father gone, Morgana finally seemed to be feeling a little better. She still looked pale and exhausted, but she smiled at Gwen and Elaine once more, and no longer locked her door overnight.

“I’m sorry I was so terse with you, dearest,” she told Elaine apologetically.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Elaine replied at once. “But you know you do not need to hide away from me, no matter what the matter is. I would do anything for you – there’s nothing you cannot tell me!”

If the smile Morgana gave Elaine was strained, she was fortunate enough that Elaine did not notice.

Meanwhile, with only a couple of days to go until Samhain, Merlin’s dancing lessons with Elaine resumed at her insistence.

“Come on,” she said eagerly, leading him up to the solar once more. “I’ll teach you the Turning Measure. That’s one of my favourites.” It was an elegant dance, in which the partners each held up a palm, placed them together and performed a series of turns, swapping hands and directions as they went.

Merlin was just beginning to feel that he was getting the hang of it when the door to the solar opened unceremoniously and Arthur strode in.

He stopped in his tracks. “What are you doing?” he demanded, a distinct edge to his voice.

“I’m teaching Merlin to dance,” Elaine responded breezily. “He has never been to a ball before and I’m making sure he will shine when the servants have their celebration.”

Arthur glowered. “Merlin, my boots need polishing for tomorrow,” he said pointedly. “Go get on with it.”

Merlin had no choice but to obey. “Thank you, my lady,” he said, hoping the honorific would placate Arthur a little, and stop whatever completely wrong idea was currently taking shape in his head. “I’ll see you later.”

Then he was gone, leaving Elaine with her very, very disapproving brother.

“What on earth was that?”  he demanded sternly, crossing his arms across his chest.

“I just told you!” Elaine answered calmly. “I’m teaching Merlin to dance!”

“You’re a princess of Camelot, Elaine and you're sixteen!” Arthur scolded her. “You can’t be alone in a room with a young man, much less a bloody servant!”

 “No? Perhaps I should just elope with the first person to simper at me, like you did!” Elaine snapped back. “Merlin is my friend and you ought to mind your own business, brother!”

Two furiously red spots of colour appeared on Arthur’s cheeks but he immediately tried to cover his embarrassment with bluster. “Oh don’t you start, I have had enough cattiness from Morgana, jealous because someone else paid me some attention…”

“Morgana was trying to help you!” cried Elaine angrily. “Since you apparently decided to throw what little brains you have out of the window!”

“She can’t stand the fact there was another beautiful woman at the court!” Arthur huffed, clearly trying to keep the attention off his own foolishness. “I’m sure it’s sweet really, she should just admit the truth, that she likes me!”

“You know Arthur,” Elaine said crossly, heading for the door.  “Whatever Merlin hit you around the head with…I hope it really hurt!”

The Samhain feast was a much needed reprieve for everyone when it arrived. Elaine was grateful for the distraction from whatever was going on between Arthur and Morgana; they were barely on speaking terms at the moment.

Dressed in a russet gown (just about the only real colour Lady Isabella permitted in her wardrobe), with a wreath of leaves and berries in her hair, Elaine threw herself into the feast with a merriment that was hard to resist. She laughed and smiled throughout the meal, giggled into her goblet when Merlin sassed Arthur just quietly enough so that he was not overheard by the king, and was in such a good mood that she even listened to Lady Isabella’s lengthy exposition on the history of the festival with a smile that was only partially fake.

When the tables were cleared and the dancing began she was delighted that Guy asked her for the first; she had been certain he would be one of the men vying for Morgana’s attention. Morgana meanwhile stood up with Leon, though she did not look like she was enjoying the evening as much as she usually did. She was still not herself.

Elaine danced every dance. After Guy, she danced with Leon, then Lionel, then once with Arthur who complained most of the way through but without any real bite in his words. Even her father rose and danced once with Morgana and once with her, something that had not ever happened before.

The night stretched on and on until her feet were quite aching but in the best possible way. Every time she caught Merlin’s eyes he was watching her with such a cheerful smile that her heart swelled in fondness for her friend. She had no doubt that a little more than a lump of wood had been used to bring Arthur to his senses. How lucky her brother was to have a friend like Merlin!

“I don’t think I’ve seen you smile this much since I arrived in Camelot!” Merlin appeared at her side as she sipped a goblet of wine between dances, as though summoned by her thoughts.

“I wish I could dance like this every night!” Elaine said with a sigh of deep appreciation. “Everything feels so much better when you’re dancing.”

“Why don’t you come to the servants’ ball tomorrow?” Merlin asked suddenly. “There’s no rule against it, is there?”

“I…I don’t think so,” Elaine said, brows knotting thoughtfully. “But then I’ve never asked.”

“Best not to!” Merlin flashed her his lop-sided grin. “I find with Arthur it’s usually best to wait until afterwards and then say you’d no idea it was forbidden. You should come dance some more.”

“But wouldn’t that rather spoil things for everyone? I wouldn’t want people feeling like they could not enjoy themselves properly on my account.” Elaine said earnestly.

“I doubt it – you and Morgana are the only ones everyone actually likes!” said Merlin wryly. It had been the first time he’d mentioned Morgana over the past few days without a strange, evasive look on his face. Elaine was beginning to suspect that they’d all got it wrong and that Merlin was not in fact taken with Gwen but with Morgana herself. “Plus, I’m sure Gwen would like it if you came along.”

“Maybe,” Elaine answered. In truth, she loved the idea of another evening’s dancing but was held back by the thought of spoiling everyone else’s enjoyment. “I shall think about it.”

Gwen was enjoying a goblet of Hesta’s spiced wine in the bustling lower hall the following night, just as the servant’s ball was getting into full swing. This was one of the few nights of the year where the castle staff got to completely let their hair down. The tables were groaning with seasonal fare and the wine and ale was already flowing. Uther Pendragon was a hard, cold, merciless man – Gwen knew that better than anyone – but he did at least ensure his servants were well provided for.

A sudden outbreak of surprised murmuring ran around the room and Gwen looked round to see that Merlin had arrived…with Lady Elaine in tow.

Elaine, Gwen noticed quickly, was dressed in one of the plainest gowns she owned. It was a pale silvery grey, unembroidered and inconspicuous, and belted with a belt so simple she wondered if it had actually come from Elaine’s wardrobe at all. She wore no jewellery and her hair was left down, unbraided and unadorned. If it were not for the fact she was the spitting image of her brother and father, she might have just blended right in.

For a moment, everyone stared at Elaine and Elaine stared back, blushing awkwardly. She murmured something to Merlin, looking uncomfortable and was clearly about to go back out of the door again when young Cathal – a kitchen boy of only ten years of age – walked boldly up to her, bowed and solemnly asked: “Will you dance with me, my lady?”

The entire room stared in amazement at his audacity, Gwen too, but then Elaine sank into a curtsey as graceful and dignified as the one she’d given Guy last night and went to stand beside the boy with a gentle smile. The music began and the hush melted away.

“Cathal’s got some guts, hasn’t he?” Merlin said with a chuckle, coming to stand beside Gwen.

“He certainly has! I didn’t know you were planning to bring Lady Elaine!” Gwen answered him.

“She looked so happy last night,” Merlin shrugged. “She said dancing made her feel like she could just be herself. The King is so hard on her, and Arthur doesn’t understand her at all. I just wanted her to have the chance to be that happy again.”

“You’re a good friend, Merlin,” Gwen told him fondly.

Merlin looked over to where a beaming Elaine was being twirled around by one of the stable hands.

“I find myself terribly tired and will probably sit here a while. Perhaps until Merlin is released!”

“Well,” he responded. “So is she!”