Chapter Text
They waited silently in the courtyard for a detachment to assemble. Hunith tried not to cringe when the gathered horses huffed or stamped their hooves on the cobbles. Their hot breath in the early spring air made puffs of steam like a dragon's breath.
Sir Leon guarded Morgana, frosty gaze fixed on her as if she was about to attack.
Morgana stood, spine straight and shoulders thrown back. She had crossed her arms, but the weight of the chains attached to her shackles dragged her arms to hang at her sides.
Hunith turned to the knight. "Surely Lady Morgana can be released from her chains for the journey?"
"No," he said politely but implacably.
She considered arguing, but Morgana gave a slight shake of her head and Hunith subsided.
Abruptly, Morgana tensed, her face twisted with an echo of the hate she had borne her brother, and Hunith followed her line of sight to see Gaius approaching. The physician stopped as if physically repulsed by the force of Morgana's glare, an expression of similar enmity wrinkling his face.
Hunith touched Morgana's hand. "I'll be right back."
At her approach, Gaius held out a satchel and a brown cloak. "I brought you a few things."
She threw the warm, soft cloak around her shoulders and took the bag gratefully. "Thank you, Gaius. I appreciate your thoughtfulness."
He looked past her at Morgana, thin lips tight. "You don't have to go back right away."
"I do."
Gaius returned his gaze to her. "Merlin will be sorry you didn't have more time together."
"I'm sure we'll have a little longer." Hunith smiled to see her son emerge from the direction of the stable leading the same sturdy horse they had shared on the trip to Amata.
The physician raised a brow but seemed similarly unsurprised to see his ward preparing to leave. "Merlin, don't you want to be here while Arthur debates all he learned this morning?"
Merlin shrugged. "Gwen can handle him for now. I'll be back before he's done processing half of what Morgana told him."
As much as she wanted her son's company, Hunith agreed that perhaps the king needed her son's guidance right now. "Merlin, are you sure?"
He put his hands on either side of her head and planted a kiss on her forehead, the way she had always done to him. Then he held her face and looked directly into her eyes. "Yes, Mother, I'm sure."
She put her palms overtop the back of his hands. "I'm in no danger and neither is Camelot."
She watched his eyes dart toward Morgana and sighed at the stubborn suspicion that remained in his face.
"I'm coming with you."
Hunith stood up on her toes and pulled his head down to kiss his brow. "Then I'll enjoy your company for a little longer."
Sir Leon gave the order to mount up. Morgana was hoisted onto the horse belonging to the same thick-shouldered knight who had guarded her on the trip from Amata, her back ramrod straight and shackled hands in front of her.
Merlin helped Hunith onto his mount and she grasped hold of his brown jacket, squeezing her eyes shut as they wheeled and clattered across the cobblestones into the city streets.
Once they left the lower town, their gait sped up. Morgana seemed unbothered by the fast pace, even chained, balancing with an ease Hunith envied.
She clung a little tighter to Merlin's jacket and lowered her voice so she could not be heard over the hoofbeats and jingling armour of their escort. "Are you going to tell Arthur your secret?"
Her son did not answer right away.
"Are you afraid of losing his friendship?"
"I'm afraid of having to leave the one place I ever felt at home."
Her heart clenched. He belonged at Arthur's side. She was torn, knowing how her son longed to be acknowledged and also how content he seemed with his home in Camelot, a home he might lose in exchange for acknowledgement of who he truly was. But as he had said so long ago, if Arthur did not accept him, the king was not the friend Merlin hoped he was. "The longer you wait, the more deceived he'll feel."
"I know." Merlin's voice was a choked whisper.
"You can't call Arthur your friend and continue to hide the truth now that he's king. Morgana held her secrets from everyone who loved her and could have supported her, and it cut her off from all of them."
"Not everyone. She told me."
His voice was so quiet, Hunith was unsure what he had said. "What?"
He cleared his throat. "She told me she had magic."
"When?" Hunith asked.
"A long time ago, before she was even certain it was magic."
As a young child, Merlin had questioned things that happened around him, trying to understand why they happened to him and not to others. He had felt isolated and fearful and her heart had broken at her own inability to explain. Surely he would not have allowed anyone else to endure the same. "What did you say?"
"Nothing."
It was so unlike her compassionate boy to ignore someone's suffering, especially when he empathized with their plight. Disappointment infused her tone. "Merlin, you let her struggle alone?"
"Gaius made me promise not to get involved; he swore it was too dangerous."
Pity for the impossible situation and its sad consequences squeezed her heart.
"And the Great Dragon warned me about her. He said the ancient prophecies told of her betrayal and that she's dangerous."
"Merlin--"
"I know what you said about Kilgharrah, and I understand more now about the dangers of knowing future events, but at the time I had reason to follow his advice."
She sighed. Though her heart ached for Morgana, Merlin had been not much more than a child, and he had trusted his advisers. She wished anew that Balinor had been able to teach their son the lore passed down through generations of dragonlords, now lost. "I know you did the best you could. But when you think of all Morgana has done, remember that her goals are the same as yours and you have both made decisions you regret."
He flinched and she squeezed him as a gesture of comfort, wanting him to understand, not wallow in guilt.
"Remember that she dealt with her fear and confusion in solitude, and perhaps she put her faith in the wrong person the way you obeyed Kilgharrah without questioning enough. Leave her in peace for now."
He hesitated and she wondered if there was more she needed to say, or perhaps better words to use, but then he looked over his shoulder and smiled.
"I understand."
She smiled back. "Thank you, Son."
#~#
Sir Leon halted at the lip of the valley that marked the edge of Arthur's kingdom and held up a hand. The escort reigned in beside him.
The heavyset knight lifted Morgana bodily and set her on her feet on the forest floor. She held up her hands and lifted a brow.
Leon frowned, but dismounted to unlock the shackles, allowing the chains to land with a heavy thud on the soggy brown leaves and bare twigs. She did not even glance down, her gaze locked with the knight.
Hunith shifted in preparation to climb down off the horse but Merlin stopped her.
"I'll come with you as far as the village." He smiled broadly at the blond knight. "I'll take my mother home and then come back."
"Be careful, Merlin," Sir Leon warned without taking his eyes from the witch.
"I will."
"We'll wait for you here."
"Let me off this animal, please, Merlin. I'll walk." She was proud of how comfortable her son was with a mount, as comfortable as the knights they rode with who were all seasoned riders, but she would not remain on its back a moment longer.
He gave her an uncertain glance but dismounted and then lifted his arms to help her from the horse's back. As soon as her boots landed on solid ground, she relaxed.
Ignoring the knights' tense stance and her son's watchful eye, she approached Morgana, reaching into a pouch at her side for the salve Gaius had packed along with provisions. "Can I see?"
Without interrupting her staring contest with Sir Leon, Morgana held out her abraded wrists. Knowing any touch on the broken and bruised skin would be painful, Hunith cradled Morgana's hand in her palm as she dabbed on mugwort.
"Almost home," she whispered quietly enough that only Morgana could hear.
Morgana's gaze was drawn from the knight to Hunith and relief flashed in her green eyes.
"Let's go," Hunith said aloud. She started down the slope.
Morgana walked beside her, gaze fixed forward, not looking right or left.
Merlin hurried to catch up, leading his horse. No one spoke as they moved further into Essetir. In the quiet, the noise of their boots crushing fallen bracken was loud. A rabbit sprinted away and birds and squirrels scolded them for passing beneath the trees. The horse snorted back.
Despite being midday, the breeze had an icy touch and Hunith pulled her soft cloak tighter. Morgana still wore the glittering gown she had been given for the trial and Hunith shivered at the goose bumps on the young woman's arms, though she seemed unbothered by the cold.
As they neared the village, there was a loud crashing and squealing from the underbrush and then two fat pigs bounded into view, seemingly unhappy about competition for their foraging and ready to defend their territory. All three humans stopped, waiting for the pigs to realize they were no threat.
"Sorry!" Caleb called cheerfully. He broke through the underbrush close on the heels of the pigs, his pink cheeks a pale imitation of his red hair and huffing from his chase after the animals.
"It's all right," Merlin called back with a friendly smile.
The boy's eyes landed on Merlin and the blood drained from his face. He stumbled back a pace, hand raised as if to ward off a blow.
Hunith hurried forward and took his arm. "It's all right, I promise."
Caleb's frightened eyes darted from her to her son and back again. "That's the sorcerer." His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, and his arm shook.
Inwardly, she cringed at the memory of the boy with the broken neck, though she kept her features calm. She glanced over her shoulder to be certain Morgana was beyond earshot. "He means you no harm. He's returning to Camelot now. Go on back to your swine." Hunith patted his face and gave him her most reassuring smile.
He subsided, but he kept one eye on Merlin as he backed away into the woods.
Once Caleb was gone, she turned back to her son. Her heart ached at his hurt expression.
"What was that about?" His lowered voice shook.
Morgana had stopped and was watching them with a puzzled expression. Hunith shrugged before turning to her son, blocking Morgana's view of their conversation.
"He was a Southron soldier," she said under her breath, hoping Merlin would not be upset by what she was about to reveal. "He and a group of his fellows were with Agravaine when he attempted to apprehend Arthur in the tunnels."
Her son blanched, his eyes wide. "Do you..."
She lowered her voice further. "I know you attacked them and killed Agravaine." He opened his mouth but she forestalled what he was about to say. "You don't need to explain or make excuses. I'm sure you did what you had to to protect yourself and your friends. But perhaps it would be best if you returned to them now rather than going into the village."
He hesitated uncertainly, hurt bruising his blue eyes, so like her own.
She laid a hand to his cheek and pulled his head down to kiss his forehead. "I'm fine. I'll be fine. You should go back now."
Finally, his expression cleared and he pulled her in for an embrace. "All right, Mother." He held her at arm's length. "But I'll be checking on you."
"Good, I want to hear from you more often."
He cocked his head. "I might send Kilgharrah to check on you, too."
She lifted her chin and stared him down. "I've been meaning to have a talk with that dragon, anyway."
Her son smiled and pulled her closer for another hug, then he stepped back. His gaze landed on Morgana and he opened his mouth, then he shut it again and turned to retrace his steps.
The witch looked away without speaking.
Hunith watched until he was out of sight, sad to see him leave again even though she knew it was for the best.
Then she hurried over and took Morgana's arm as they continued toward the village. The young witch slanted her several inquisitive glances, but Hunith did not offer any explanation for the swineherd's strange reaction to her son.
Instead, she looked up into the cloud-streaked sky. "Any sign of Aithusa?"
Immediately, Morgana's gaze scanned the sky searching for the little dragon.
"Perhaps we can visit the clearing tomorrow and see if she's back in her cave," Hunith suggested as they walked.
"That would be good," Morgana answered, her eyes continually flicking upward.
The smell of smoke grew stronger along with the sound of chickens and geese and a child's wail.
Just before they stepped from the woods into the cleared area around Ealdor, Morgana squeezed Hunith's arm. "Hunith, thank you." Her mouth opened and closed, as if searching for the words to explain what she was grateful for.
Hunith patted her hand. "Welcome home, Morgana."
#~#
Marigolds had begun to bloom and the breeze, though cool, had lost winter's sharpness. Hunith was enjoying an afternoon in her favourite clearing picking radish, bishopwort, garlic, wormwood, helenium, cropleek and hollow leek. It was uneventful. She appreciated that.
Aithusa performed her newest acrobatics for Morgana above the clearing. The young woman laughed, watching the dragon.
"Don't forget you're here to pick berries." Hunith pointed at the basket that was ostensibly Morgana's purpose for accompanying Hunith to pick herbs.
With a roll of her eyes, Morgana picked up her basket and headed toward the stream. Aithusa followed.
Leaving the witch and the dragon, Hunith moved deeper into the woods, searching out the plants that preferred shade and damp, using the toe of her boot to scrape aside the soggy mess of brown leaves.
She had just reached the edge of another clearing when the noise of gigantic wings beat the air above and her clothing was twisted around her along with twigs and muddy leaves. She raised a hand to shield her eyes. When she lowered it, Kilgharrah had settled down between the trees, spiked tail curling around his haunches and monstrous horned head held haughtily above her.
"Hello, Kilgharrah."
"Your son sends his greetings," the alien voice boomed.
"Thank you." She brushed off her skirt.
"Is the witch still here?"
Hunith could hear the disdainful sniff in the dragon's deep voice.
"Morgana is still here, yes. I believe Aithusa is entertaining her now if you want to join them."
Affronted dignity rolled off the monstrous creature as he lifted his enormous head even higher. "I've told Aithusa to stay away from her."
Hunith shrugged. "You've told me to stay away from her. I do believe you've told my son to stay away from her." Hands on her hips, Hunith craned her neck to look into the dragon's huge golden eyes. "And worse, you told him he had to kill her."
This time the sniff was audible. A thread of smoke rose from the dragon's mouth. "The ancient prophecies speak--"
She rolled her eyes. "Time is always in motion. You cannot know how many lives are forfeit if a single person dies--their children and their children's children and all they would have affected is forfeit--or how many are saved by a single act of kindness."
"Morgana is dangerous."
"She has been." Hunith chose not to dwell on deeds her friend had committed in the past. "She might be again. But right now she's happy."
Her smiles had come more often of late. Now and again there was real joy in her face.
The Great Dragon huffed another whiff of steam. "Do as you will, but I warn you the evil that follows is partially of your making."
Hunith did not bother to argue that if such evil was preordained, nothing she did would alter its course. "Aithusa grows ever bigger and more powerful," she remarked instead.
Kilgharrah puffed up as if the little dragon's accomplishments were a reflection on him. "He will accomplish much in his lifetime, if he turns his attention to events of importance and curtails his flying tricks and butterfly-chasing."
Hunith smiled.
"I see I will get no help from you in controlling Aithusa's flightiness."
Hunith merely shrugged. For all the centuries of experience and knowledge Kilgharrah boasted, of the two of them she had more experience raising magical offspring.
"Take care, Hunith." It was both a warning and a wish for her welfare.
She returned the farewell and ignored the warning. "Goodbye, Kilgharrah."
She used an arm to shield her face as the dragon's wings stirred the forest floor again, scattering rotting leaves and broken twigs. When the whirlwind settled, she watched as the dragon's enormous bulk grew smaller as he lifted higher into the air, then headed north toward the mountains.
Hunith returned to collecting her herbs, hoping to replenish her stocks before they began the long days of planting once again.