Under His Protection

It's been so long since I've heard from Mum, let alone seen her. Merlin stared morosely down at the metal breastplate in his hand as his thoughts turned inexplicably to his mother. He hated being so far from her.

Merlin had had nightmares for weeks after she was hurt by Kanen, dreaming that while he was saving Arthur from some peril or other his mother lay dying. Of course, with his rudimentary knowledge he had surreptitiously upgraded the magical reinforcement he'd left upon the humble cottage and he had put basic protective spells upon his mother before riding away. But it couldn't protect her from everything and when she'd turned up dying to fulfill his pact with Nimueh his anger had known no bounds. In his rage he'd first confronted the wiley old dragon. Unbeknownst to him, Kilgharrah counted himself fortunate that Merlin had not acted in his fury and turned his full wrath upon him. The Great Dragon was now cautious when dealing with his Lord. The duplicitous high priestess was the one who had borne the brunt of his anger as he'd learned his power over life and death. The Old Religion had shuddered as he'd forced his will upon the balance, but acknowledged his right. Certainly, Emrys was young, pure hearted and still somewhat naïve, but he would not be toyed with.

Upon his return to Camelot, and before his mother again returned home, he'd blessed her as she slept with redirecting enchantments and the strongest protection spell he had yet managed, his own massive growth apparent in the increased strength of his magic. Merlin's magic, having always hearkened to his passionate nature and reflecting his deep love for Hunith, had drastically increased the potency of her new protection.

His thoughts remained upon his sweet mother as he continued to polish the King's armor.

-mMm-

Merlin is Emrys!

Dark hatred burned through Morgana's veins. She had underestimated his betrayal. Not only had he poisoned her, he had turned his back on her in her hour of greatest need and she had suffered. Oh, how she had suffered! And now he would suffer. But how to pierce his heart and bleed it dry before she killed him? How best to shred his soul in anguish? Arthur's destruction would surely bring Merlin to the dust, but Arthur's death and the prize of the throne was the end game. She needed a fitting torture for the Traitor aside from all that.

Aha! Yes!

She would see to it that he suffered as she had. He would suffer the crushing loss of his only family member, as she had lost her sister, Morgause. She would see his heart cut to ribbons when he lost the only one who completely knew and loved him. Yes, torturing and killing his mother would be the perfect revenge. The thought of making the innocent woman pay the price for her son's betrayal pained her only slightly. Hunith had only been kind to her, yes, but it was the only way, and in the end the woman's life would matter little.

With dark purpose, the witch transported herself to Ealdor and watched unseen, green eyes narrowed, as the peasant woman laid dripping laundry across the branches of a nearby tree. Contemplating a spell, she raised her hand in Hunith's direction.

A ripple washed through the world of magic. All magical eyes turned in horror upon the last high priestess. In Camelot, Merlin stilled in Arthur's empty chambers, half cleaned breastplate in one hand and a rag in the other, gold stirring to life in his eyes. His eyebrow lifted dangerously.

Tension held the atmosphere around her in a vise-like grip as the world watched and waited. A weighty doom pressed upon Morgana, growing heavier with each beat of her heart.

Wait. Perhaps damage to his magic would cause greater pain. There must be a way to render him helpless, powerless. He will not be my doom.

Without giving pause to consider what could have prompted the change in her plans, she reconsidered her course, turned her malicious thoughts in another direction and transported away. Magic sighed in relief.

Merlin slowly returned to his polishing.