SPRING

The coming of the golden flowers and red roses of spring was a welcome thing. Winter had come and gone quickly that year, by the measure of farmers and foresters. To some, however, the cold lingered longer than it was wanted. For those, their winter was measured in misery. These sorts awaited hope. The sorts such as those who lived within the white walls of Camelot, that crown jewel of a city. They needed spring more than anyone else. So the rejuvenation of the lands in all the world was a doubly welcomed one, for the new winds might bring news from Merlin.

"My lady, won't you eat?" said Gwen. She held a basket of clothing in her hands, poised at her hips as she leaned over to look at Morgana. She addressed her like a superior, but watched her with the eyes of a steadfast friend.

Morgana turned from her post near one of the grand windows of her chambers. "I'm not so hungry, Gwen. Thank you."

Gwen gave her a soft smile. "He'll be back, Morgana."

"I don't think he will, Gwen. He would have been in touch by now."

"It was a strong winter."

"He's a strong warlock," Morgana pointed out.

"Ah, right..."

Morgana sighed. "I'm sorry, Gwen. It's unfair for me to take it out on you. It's just lonely now."

Gwen cleared her throat and spoke softly. "It must be stressful, taking up Merlin's… duties."

Morgana moved to her bed, took a seat. "I'm not even sure how on Earth Merlin did it. Arthur is a magnet for trouble."

"Well it certainly helped that he spent a majority of his daylight hours with him anyways."

Morgana laughed, it was dry but the inklings of humor were there. "Which I refuse to do."

Gwen sat by her, and grabbed her hand. "You're doing wonderfully Morgana, Merlin will be proud."

Morgana scoffed. "Merlin's an idiot. I'd tell him so, but he isn't even here for me to do that. And in any case… Arthur's gotten injured far more often. I have to find a way to keep him safe without me being there. Or drag Merlin back by those great big ears of his." She huffed.

"He's still quite alive. Arthur's injuries have never stopped him from bouncing back."

Morgana looked at her friend slyly, "I'm sure it helps that he has such enthusiastic help."

The maidservant blushed and started to put together a response, but a tapping at the windows interrupted her rebuttal. "Morgana, look… it's a falcon."

Morgana rushed there, released the latch and allowed the elegant creature entrance. Mighty but lithe wings carried it to a desk where it dropped off a letter. It ruffled its feathers, bold and bronze, and took off in graceful flight - skimming over fresh breezes.

Morgana's hands opened the sealed letter in a flurry, taking time to note, briefly, the bright blue of the wax. She scanned through it quickly.

Gwen leaned over. "What does it say?"

Morgana smiled.

~{(0)}~

"This is ridiculous."

"You're a child, Arthur."

"And you're a lunatic, Morgana. We've been walking for hours. Father's going to be asking soon."

"This is more important than your comfort."

"And that! You haven't even told me what we're doing."

Morgana rounded on him. "It has to do with Merlin."

She registered pain flickering in his eyes, but he cleared his throat and looked away before she could capitalize on it. "I told you, Morgana. I don't want anything to do with that. If he wanted to see us, he would've figured something out himself."

"He's your greatest friend."

"He's a liar, and a terrible servant anyways."

She glared at the prince. "And a good man."

"Good men don't lie about-"

"Oh come on, Arthur! You've got to understand-"

"I don't want to talk about it anymore. That's final."

Arthur took a deep breath, and looked around the clearing they had stepped into. His head was drawn towards a voice that came from the trees.

"Well I suppose you're right on account of me being a terrible servant. I only delayed so much because I wasn't too keen on folding your underwear."

The voice was familiar, teasing, and a little ethereal. Confident. The accompanying figure was garbed in blue and reds familiar to both the nobles, but the cut of the cloth was trim and carefully done. The fabric flowing and long. He stood by an old and withered tree, touching it gently like a friend. His eyes, like glimmering oceans cast in shades of wizened blue, sparkled with mirth and joy. It was a comfort to behold him at long last.

Arthur, being nearest, pulled him in for an embrace and held him tightly for a long moment. Letting the warlock go, he commented on something that had slipped his notice. "By grace Merlin… have you grown a beard? It's like there's a mitton on your face."

Merlin ignored the remark entirely - he had caught sight of Morgana in the streams of sunlight that adorned the clearing. Her eyes were wide and shining, but she did not move.

He stepped into her arms and wrapped her up in a strong embrace, an embrace she accepted and returned with equal longing. Merlin set aside a strand of soft, dark hair and whispered in her ear "I have something to show you. I think you'll be proud."

She nodded against his chest, but she did not speak and they did not move. It wasn't until Arthur, who had studiously been observing every detail of the trees in the opposite direction, cleared his throat that they let go.

"Well this is all well and lovely Merlin, but where've you been staying? Not a hovel I expect?"

Merlin shook his head, laughed. "No, not a hovel. Come."

{(0)}

"Frankly Merlin, when you said it wasn't a hovel, I actually believed you had come across better accommodations. I'm not sure if you've noticed…" Arthur glanced about him with an abundance of obnoxious self-righteousness. "There's nothing here."

They stood at the edge of a forest, staring out into the opening of a large and mighty lake. It was framed by mountains, stout and white-capped, and tranquility, calm and quaint. Only the song of birds and the quiet drop-drumming of dew on fresh green leaves made any noise.

Merlin smirked, and stepped closer to the shore. "Come on, then."

Morgana didn't hesitate. She moved forward, her feet brushing water. Arthur raised an eyebrow, crossed his arms. "We have to swim?"

Morgana challenged him. "Aren't afraid of a little water are you Arthur?"

He scoffed, but moved forward anyway. Annoyance filtered through his eyes, but it was a weak veil for burning curiosity and a sense of adventure he had missed in Merlin's absence.

Arthur waded into the water doubtfully, but as he walked further in, he found that he didn't sink down at all. He stood on the surface of the water. "Merlin!"

The response was quick and annoyingly smug. "Look down, Arthur."

"I already am, you bloody-" Arthur looked up from his boots to bellow at his friend, but found upon raising his head that he was not on a lake but a landmass. An isle seated in the middle of the empty lake he had seen mere minutes ago.

The trees around them were hardy pines, reaching skyward, and they opened up a passage ahead from where they stood. Music filtered through the opening of the path, sprinkled faintly with laughter and busy-noise.

"Merlin?" Arthur repeated, staring at his surroundings in disbelief.

"Magic" said Merlin, patting the prince on the shoulder. "Let's go."

They began moving forward, Morgana trailing behind, admiring the leaves of the trees, the unique construct of the bark, threaded with age and wisdom. The presence, the sentiment, of home lurked in every blade of grass, every speck, every shade.

Merlin beckoned her on from where he and Arthur stood. He watched her careful deliberation with fondness. It was well-merited deliberation, but she was merely tasting the beginnings of the emotions to come. They had some ways to travel still, and he was excited for her to feel what he has felt every waking hour in the time he has been there. The Isles of the Blessed called him forward.

He spoke in her mind. Come, Morgana. You need to see this.

She tore her eyes away from the greens, turned them his way.

I feel nostalgic, but I don't know why, she said.

He smiled and began walking. He gave Arthur a small shove to nudge him out of his own reprieve.

"It's a beautiful forest Merlin. Good for hunting, don't you think?"

Merlin agreed with the first half of the statement, not so much the second half. But it was Arthur's way of connecting, so he said "Just stay away from the unicorns this time around."

The prince rolled his eyes and readied a remark to fire, but found himself silenced by their arrival at the edge of the forest.

Before them was a vision of merriment and joy, festivity and bustle. Market stalls and humble homes littered either side of the cobblestone path leading them away from the trees, a path uninterrupted except for a fountain ahead. The water it spouted glimmered in the sunlight, its construction shined with charisma. Haphazard white stones, carefully uncaringly placed, composed its entirety.

Around the fountain concentrated larger homes and hearthfires, brightly colored tents that sat by oaks with banners tied around their trunks. Children ran about, snapped magic sparks at one another like pebbles, gleeful giggles bursting from them when sparks caught their clothes.

All of this served only as a foreground to a magnificent keep, humble in size but tall in stature. It emanated power. The keep was nothing like Camelot's citadel, which had power aplenty, but little subtlety in its brandishing, whereas the very heart of the Isle pulsed proudly with tranquility.

Morgana stopped short when a child threw a spark her way, Arthur tensed, but Morgana picked it up from where it fizzled on the ground, tossed it back. The child offered a toothless grin and ran off.

Tears streamed down her face. Magic had been denied her and Merlin all their lives. To see it on such innocent, delightfully blatant display sung to her soul. She felt fulfilled and crushed and utterly joyful all at once. She could not but sit by the fountain and let her tears fall in the water. Morgana held her reflection's gaze, wondered if this was the moment her entire existence was meant for. She felt free.

This was beauty beyond which any Morgause had promised, beauty made all the more true by its peaceful acquisition. A moment like this could only have been won with softness and patience. Any land, any aim achieved with violence would have had its sanctity tarnished in its achievement. But this? This was…

Arthur stood by her side, worried. She gave him a bright and dazzling smile, watery as it was. He relaxed a little, and gave her time to collect herself.

A crowd gathered and Morgana wondered if she had made a spectacle of herself, but her fears were soon dismissed and curiosity soon alit. Folks in fair and colorful clothing gathered around Merlin, greeted him in tongues. Druids. He was graceful in receiving them, though the tips of his ears still bloomed red. They regarded him with kindness and deference. Respect and familiarity.

Arthur walked up to his friend between greetings, pulled him aside as Morgana began to make introductions herself.

"Is this who you've always been, Merlin?"

"A warlock?"

"No. A leader."

Merlin swallowed away sudden emotion, He spoke to his friend with sincerity. "No, not always. I didn't learn to lead until I came to Camelot. I learned everything I ever needed to learn about it from you."

Arthur's eyes glistened, and he did not trust himself to speak. He squeezed Merlin's shoulder once, gave him a nod. They moved to gather Morgana.

{(0)}

The tower-keep that pulsed with power even from a distance was not nearly as imposing when viewed from the inside, though it certainly emitted power. Wooden floors were a welcome contrast to the stone walls around them, walls that stretched ever-upwards. A spiral case of stairs would have stepped them to levels far above, but Merlin shook his head. He pointed to a corridor that led a fair ways away from the entrance.

They followed, torchlight guiding them. Morgana felt her inner core respond to something in the air as they moved deeper into the corridor. She wasn't sure, but it felt very much like they were going downwards. The magic around them was stifling, but not dangerous. It felt like breathing while lying facing downwards. The sensation of peace she experienced in the forest pervaded her senses now, five times as strongly. Tranquility resounded in her being.

Nobody spoke for some time, not even Arthur. Finally, when it had felt like they were just shy of forever away from their starting place, Merlin broke the silence.

"Don't mind the darkness, just give it a moment," he said.

Arthur and Morgana blinked once, then twice, as they entered the tower-keep's heart, but still darkness composed the whole of their vision.

Morgana saw first. It was a finely decorated interior for a tomb. Luminous specks of dust kept everything aglow, as if the world around them was too fragile for the natural light of day. It was a hue of blue, like the shade of lightning. Almost white-hot. She reached out and touched one. It was perfectly cool.

Merlin whispered a word and torches came alight around them, the blue hues now mixing with the orange of flame. The play of colors was beautiful in its own right, but Morgana was too busy staring at her sister's prone body to appreciate the lighting situation.

Morgause was resting with her arms crossed on her stomach, lying on what looked like an altar. Morgana was almost afraid to touch her. Would she be alive?

She wasn't sure what she was more terrified of. She stared at Morgause for some time, until she noticed… It wasn't obvious, but her sister was breathing softly. Her stasis spell had worked.

Morgana turned to Merlin and brought him into a crushing hug.

"I'm sorry-" he started.

She interrupted, put him at arm's length and held him there. "When my sister awakens, she will come to a better world. Thank you Merlin."

Morgana glanced at her sister once more.

Merlin nudged Arthur. "Let's go Prince Prat, I have some people that want to meet you" he whispered.

They gave Morgana a moment with her sister.

{(0)}

Merlin and Arthur trekked their way up the staircase. Merlin toured Arthur around every level. Interesting and unique things occurred in each, but it wasn't until they reached the fifth floor that Arthur interrupted.

"Merlin. Let's take a break here."

It was an opportune place to stop. The level was empty.

"Oh come on now Arthur, don't tell me you're getting thick around the waist already, I've only been gone-"

Arthur rolled his eyes. Glanced about the room. It was cast in colorful lighting through stained glass windows on both the left and right sides.

He ignored Merlin's remark entirely. "Why didn't you tell me about your magic Merlin?"

Merlin's face withdrew a little. "Arthur..."

"Friends don't lie to one another Merlin, and you've been lying since we met."

Merlin cast his eyes down. "I know, but it was the only way to-"

"Oh enough with that. Morgana told me about all the times you've saved my hide." Arthur sighed. "When Morgana told me about her magic - when I saw you use magic - I had to do a lot of unlearning concerning my knowledge of…" He motioned at the room around them.

"I just need to know why you didn't trust me, Merlin."

"It's not that I didn't trust you Arthur. It's just..." Merlin sighed, exasperated. "Complicated. I think the word for it is cowardice."

Arthur watched him steadily. "I'm not angry Merlin. Morgana and Gwen helped me sort through my…" He cleared his throat. "Feelings, about the subject.

"But it's important to me that you know, I would never have harmed you for your magic. Not even before I knew about Morgana's as well. You're my friend, Merlin. You must know I will always have your back." He clasped Merlin's arm with a firm thud. "Always."

A moment passed between them. Merlin broke out in a grin. "So… Gwen helped you sort your feelings I see."

Arthur hit Merlin up the back of the head. "Just walk."

They claimed two more levels, and arrived at the very top of the tower. There was gathered a council. It was a strange assortment of individuals. Old and bearded men, old and not-bearded women. All gave off the impression of leaders. All were sorcerers. Arthur couldn't help but be fairly intimidated. But Merlin stood by his side, proud and tall.

"All rise for Prince Arthur," he said.

The council rose.

{(0)}

The meeting was long and eventful, and afterwards Merlin felt an inclination to see Morgana. He searched for her first in the tomb, but Morgause slept on, alone. The next logical step, of course, was perusing the entire tower in search of her. He could have felt for her presence, but if she still wanted time alone then he didn't want to use magic to get to her.

The search was fruitless. He passed by Arthur's quarters, but the prince was sound asleep. He checked on his mother in her own chambers, but she was asleep too.

He went out into the forest.

There was light as he moved through the trees. It was unearthly, pale, a shadow of the sun's own rays. It was beautiful, gentle, caring, and older than Kilgharrah himself. She stood in the clearing she had marveled at earlier in the day, the light playing at her fair skin and her green eyes with the aim of making her all the more ethereal. She was peaceful, and gorgeous.

Merlin approached her, and stood by her side as she looked at the sky.

There were a million things to talk about. Would she be returning with Arthur to Camelot and taking up his own responsibilities? Or would she stay while he returned with Arthur? It was his hope that she could rule here in his stead. Until the time of Prophecy came to pass, and he could come to her side. He didn't belong there, but right by her side is where he'd rather be. Forevermore, preferably.

Either way, Morgana would have to decide.

So much to talk about, and still no words were exchanged. For now, for this very moment, there needn't be any speaking. Morgana pulled him in for a kiss.

They had found another way.

A/N: The End. Thank you.