Magic Mirror

by Soledad

Chapter 07 – Reconciliation

The servants take Queen Igraine to her chambers in a great hurry and lay her on the bed. As this world's Camelot doesn't have a physician, Arthur volunteers Merlin's services as a healer.

Watching from the background, Morgan is slowly becoming anxious when the dark-haired boy with the elfin ears – who is called Merlin, of all possible names! – slowly lets his bony hands glide and inch or so above Igraine's body, his blue eyes turning molten gold as he whispers something barely audible under his breath. She recognizes a spell when she hears one, and she fears the boy sorcerer might discover the poison.

As it turns out, her worries are not ungrounded.

"She's been poisoned," the boy Merlin finally announces. "And it's not just any poison; it has been magically enhanced. I can feel it spread through her body; it has been designed to kill her slowly."

"Can you stop it?" the blond warrior calling himself Arthur Pendragon asks.

The young sorcerer shrugs. "I can stop the spreading of the poison. I cannot undo the damage it has already done, though. I'm afraid her health will never be the same again."

"Then do it!" the blond warrior orders. "She's better off sickly than dead."

The boy named Merlin spreads his long, pale hands over Igraine's body again. Once more, his eyes turn gold, and he whispers a few powerful words. Igraine's skin takes on a sickly greenish hue, showing clearly how far the poison has already spread; then she begins to sweat it out in the form of a smelly green goo.

"Bring us water!" Bridget orders.

To everyone's surprise, it is Morgan's quiet, dark-skinned attendant, Vivian, who moves first, bringing a bowl of warm water and a rag, washing away the poison from Igraine's skin gently.

"Take care that none of it gets into your eyes or mouth, or anywhere you might have a cut, no matter how small it is," Merlin warns her, his eyes still glowing. "This seems to be a poison that spreads by the way of bodily fluids; blood, before all else."

Vivian nods wordlessly and leaves with her head bowed, avoiding everyone's looks. Merlin releases a long, shuddering breath. He looks tired, as if the fighting of the poison had cost him a great deal of strength.

"I'm glad it worked," he says in obvious relief. "I am passable as a healer's apprentice, but lousy at healing magic."

"Oh, I wouldn't agree with that," Sir Kay protests. "I'd be dead without you! You are a great sorcerer, greater than any I've seen before."

"The only one you've seen before is our Merlin," Ulfius comments dryly. "And he would have left you behind, dying. I say we're better off with this one as sorcerers go."

"I'm not a sorcerer," young Merlin replies tiredly. "I'm a warlock."

Ulfius shrugs. "So, what's the difference?"

"I was born with magic," Merlin explains with the forced patience of someone who's had to do this uncounted times. "I never needed to learn it."

For a moment Morgan feels intense envy towards the skinny boy, remembering all the pain and strength and effort she had to bring up to learn her arts. She knows that their Merlin has gained his powers the same way; for the price of blood and sweat. That fact alone shows how different, how… alien these three are. She's never heard of anyone born with natural magic… if there is such a thing in the first place.

"But she will live, won't she?" Sir Kay asks, gesturing towards Queen Igraine.

Young Merlin nods. "She will. But she'll be ailing through the rest of her life; weakened and prone to illness. I am sorry."

"But how did the poison get into her blood?" Sir Kay demands.

"Somebody must have poisoned her," Gawain says darkly.

Sir Kay shoots him an exasperated look. "I know that. I'd like to know who did it – and how."

"The smallest cut would have been enough," Merlin says. "She does have a small cut on her cheek; barely more than a scratch."

"Then she must know who did it," Sir Kay leans over the weakened Igraine. "Milady, do you know who poisoned you?"

Igraine is deathly pale, her cheeks are sunken, her eyes enormous, her whisper barely audible. "I do. But I… won't tell you."

"Why not?" several people demand at once angrily.

"Because… this kin-strife must… come to an end," Igraine whispers. "Somebody… has to make the… first step to… end it. I can be… that person."

For the first time in a very long while Morgan is well and truly shocked… and angry. With this unexpected gesture of forgiveness, Igraine has spoiled her triumph thoroughly.

The others seem to feel a lot less forgiving, though.

"It is not that simple," Lord Lucan, in the absence of Leontes now the most influential vassal of the Pendragons, protests. "There is a poison-maker at the court, and we need to know who it is before they can target others, too."

"Whom… should they… target?" Igraine whispers. "Arthur is gone; so is Merlin… and Leontes. I am… the only one… left."

"I still want to know who administered that poison," Lord Lucan insists and many who still keep faith to Arthur murmur in agreement.

It will only take a moment now before someone would raise open accusations against Morgan, because who else would want to remove Igraine from the game?

"I did," a quiet, even voice says from the background, and Sybil comes forth, eerily calm and collected, looking like a ghost in her black cowl and white wimple. "I was the one who gave the orders to attack Bardon Pass, too. I sent those orders in Morgan's name, for I know the men would obey; yet Morgan knew nothing about it. It was my plan all along, and I saw to its coming to fruition."

"Not that it would surprise me," Sir Kay mutters angrily. "We've long suspected your guiding hand behind much of what she was doing. I would still like to ask – why?"

"Because Morgan has been like a daughter to me ever since she was sent to our convent, and I wanted her to get that which was rightfully hers," the nun answers coldly. "Hers was the legitimate claim; yet the laws of this land are made by feeble men who wish to set a son before a daughter, even if he is a bastard and not fit to rule."

"So you took the law into your own hand," the foreign Arthur says; it isn't a question. He then looks at Lord Lucan askance. "Can she do it? Does she have the authority to legally crown a Queen?"

"She does, if she was an abbess," the guardian of Bardon Pass replies.

"I was," Sybil says simply. "It is done now, and it cannot be undone; not even if the boy King returns. Queen Morgan is the eldest, the one rightfully born in the royal bed. Do with me what you want; I don't care. I've fulfilled my destiny."

"I'd be carefully when it comes to destiny," young Merlin mutters darkly but no-one pays him any attention.

A shame, really. Morgan has the feeling that he could tell a great deal about the topic. Perhaps later, should they all survive this encounter, they will get the chance to discuss it. Now, however, she'll need to have her wits about her to save her newly won throne.

"The punishment for treason is death!" Gawain growls. How predictable.

Morgan has had enough. She's not willing to sacrifice Sybil, just to placate Arthur's lapdogs. Not even though she knows the nun would make that sacrifice willingly.

"Back off!" she snarls at the big warrior. "I am the Queen here, and she has never betrayed me. She may have made mistakes out of poor judgement, yes, but she never turned against me," she looks straight at Sybil, begging her to understand. "I fear I cannot allow you to remain at court, though, Mater. I shall have your convent rebuilt, however, so that you can return to your former life in the service of God."

The nun bows respectfully. "My Queen is merciful."

"What?" Sir Kay cries out in disdain. "You'd allow her to leave unpunished?"

Morgan gets right into his face. "She'll never see me again. Don't you think that's punishment enough?"

For them both, in fact, though she knows better than say it loud.

"No-one will accept you as our Queen!" Sir Kay spits. "We'll have Queen Igraine rule us all before we'd let you take Camelot from us!

"I do not intend to rule from this half-rotten ruin," Morgan returns coldly. "I'll rule from my father's castle, as he did."

"And I won't rule anyone… from anywhere," now that the poison has left her body, some of Igraine's strength seems to return. "Nor… do I wish to… live at court as… as the new Queen's puppet."

"What do you want to do with the rest of your life, then?" Bridget asks in innocent bluntness.

Igraine gives her a tolerant smile.

"I've buried… two husbands. That is… quite enough for one life. I choose to… to take the veil, once that… convent is rebuilt," she looks at Sybil in faint amusement. "That way… we can keep a wary eye… on each other."

Sybil inclines her head in acceptance, and while Arthur's supporters are clearly not happy with the solution, Morgan knows she has no choice but to agree if she wants to keep her newly gained position. She'll miss Sybil's wisdom and ruthless power, certainly. But she is old enough and strong enough to continue on her own; and who knows, perhaps the three strangers can become useful allies, given enough time.

She hopes so. To have somebody like young Merlin to support her…

"Very well," she declares in a truly regal manner. "We'll leave in a week's time; now that the attacks have stopped, everyone can safely return home."

"I'll not go with you!" Gawain growls and Brastias nods in agreement.

Morgan shrugs. "Then stay here and fight with the beasts of the forest for these ruins. I care not. Everyone else is welcome to return to Pendragon Castle and reclaim the positions they've abandoned when they chose my brother over me."

That declaration is met with tentative relief, and when, shortly thereafter, the festive dinner is distributed among the tables, friend and foe find themselves in more or less peaceful celebration that lasts well into the night.

~TBC~