Characters: Merlin cast and some OC's. Merlin/Arthur soon.
Warning: OOOhhh, a transformation of sorts, but it's a surprise! but don't worry nothing heavy duty.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters(and pics) mentioned hence forth....
Author's Note: Title is Latin ;)...and yes that is Natalie P.
( There is a portrait that hangs on the wall in the private chambers of the King. )
New:
( There is a pastry on a small plate that sits on the Royal table every night, untouched. )When the King requested a specific cook to make it (by name, Roanna was especially thrilled at the beginning), the staff asked why her specifically, why not the others who could make it the same way. She answered that she didn't know herself, though there was a glint in her eye that told them she was withholding the truth.
One day one of the chambermaids walked by the King's chambers whose door had not been properly shut, and she can hear the King having a conversation to someone.
"Arthur, I have to ask, what is this business with the pastry on the table every night?" The voice was that of Lady Morgana, no other (save for a couple of other people) would dare say His Majesty's name, let alone in that manner. Her ears perk up at the mention of that particular subject. She was not that sort of person who eavesdropped on anyone's conversation, but she was deeply curious about the mystery of the pastry as well.
"You really are a busybody aren't you?" the King's sarcasm emanated from the room in waves. She silently stood still at the King's pause. "It reminds me of her." She holds in her gasp by the press of her palms and quickly walks away before she is discovered. She later tells her friends what transpired in the King's chambers and the revelation of the mystery surrounding the pastry.
"It is because of a lady?"
"She must be beautiful to be held in His Majesty's regard."
"Lady Morgana is beautiful, and all they do is snipe at each other."
"Who do you think she is?"
*****
Merlin was pretty sure that most ceremonial feasts tended to have...well feasts. He's standing here in the Hall making himself invisible trying to quell his rumbling empty stomach, if the few nobles looking his way, he was sure he was failing. With all the preparations he had to make for Arthur before the feast, he didn't have enough time to walk to the kitchens and quickly take a bite (he found to his relief, that the kitchen staff are quite fond of him) and that left him now to watch the untouched food on the table pushed to the side, hungrily.
"It's the rules," Gwen explained earlier before she walked over to tend to Morgana at the other side of the Hall. “No one eats unless told by the King and the feast doesn't begin until after the ceremony, which is generally close to midnight." Great. He not only had to endure a particular grumpy Arthur as he was prepared and serves him wine all night, he had to do it on an empty stomach and in the humiliating Official Ceremonial Robes of the Servants of Camelot (he still thinks that Arthur made it up. Bastard) thankfully the Hall was dark due to the shuttered windows, save for a few lit candles placed at the corners.
"Here," suddenly he was cut from his reverie when something was shoved into his hands. "Maybe it would stop the courtiers looking alarmed that there is a storm coming." Looking down at what Arthur gave him, Merlin was surprised to see one of the complicated pastries the cooks made only on special occasions. Merlin looked up to see Arthur's haughty face and could not help smile at him.
"I thought we weren't allowed to eat before the ceremony?" asked Merlin, though it didn't stop him from taking a bite out of it. He had to hold in the groan at its taste. So Good.
"We aren't, but I don't think anyone would like it if the ceremony was disrupted because the quaking earth that is your stomach," answered Arthur dryly.
"Here, take this then," said Merlin and held up the rest of the pastry and gave it to Arthur. "You haven't eaten either and if anyone else didn't like the sound of my stomach, your father would hate it if it was his own son whose empty stomach disrupted the ceremony."
"With that skinny arse, you need all the food you can get," said Arthur, Merlin ignored the comment as he watched Arthur begin to eat the rest of the dessert.
"Besides, don't you know that Sharing is Caring, sire," Merlin teased, looking around to see where he could clean his now crumby fingers.
"Do you care Merlin?" There was an inflection in his voice that Merlin couldn’t pinpoint. Before Merlin could answer, the Hall doors open and a hush falls as the King and proceeds towards the front.
A few paces behind the King, a triumvirate of women garbed in resplendent gowns of white, red and black that looked even better than Lady Morgana’s gowns, enter the Hall. Their un-styled hair left unadorned, flowing behind them like Arthur’s red cloak. One of gold, as bright as the sun, one of red as rich as wine and one of white as clear as snow; it was howver their faces that drew Merlin’s attention. Unpainted, they had a natural beauty to them, but it was the leading woman that illustrated a sense of wisdom and repose in her countenance, in her eyes. Those that illustrated a strong will within.
In unison, all in attendance shuffle back to the Hall walls so that they leave the centre bare. As they walk pass, a gust of strong wind blows out the remaining candles and all is left in the dark. Surreptitiously, Merlin wipes his fingers on the (thank the gods!) dark tablecloth next to him.
After a moment of darkness and silence, Merlin jumps when suddenly a flame ignites. Now with light, Merlin could see that the flame was in a bowl and held by the three women in the centre and the King now standing front of his thrown, the glow of the light emphasizing the toll of his Kingship; the silver streaks in his hair and the deep wrinkles around his eyes and lips.
Turning back to the centre, Merlin sees now only two of the women holding the flamed-basin, while the third, the leading woman holding a smaller bowl herself.
“The night comes for cleansing,” she said, her voice melodic but firm. “Let the light of both silver and gold reveal and purge; show what has, what is and what will be.” Reaching into the bowl, she picks up something. “Rosemary, for blessing,” she then throws it into the fire, the flames crackle at its gift. “Cinnamon, for healing; Mistletoe, for protection; Lavender, for purification and Rose-” surprisingly she looks directly to Merlin as she holds the blood-red bud over the flame, the flare rising towards the red flower, like a lover chasing a kiss “-for awareness and reveal.” Just as the flower meets this kiss, the flame suddenly turns from the yellow amber it was, to a blazing gold. As the flame settles, the lead woman holds the basin herself and walks towards the King. Standing in front of him, though keeping the flame in between where there was no chance of burning, the lead woman bows to the King before walking away from the Royal Family and stands before the nobility that were lining the wall. Suddenly the Hall is bathed in moonlight, unnoticed the aides open each of the several window shutters.
“She begins with the nobility first,” said Gwen, when she explained the course of the ceremony. “She speaks to King Uther, Prince Arthur and Lady Morgana last, including Gaius, you and I.”
“So most of the nobility bare witness if there were any spells cast placed upon the Royal Court?” asked Merlin incredulously, thinking Uther wouldn’t want this to be known to everyone.
“No,” answered Gwen “most nobles flee by then, one way or the other, but only the Head of each Noble Family and their personal servants may stay.”
“Lady Pomina of Rethnè,” Merlin looks up to see the lead woman, already half way through the line, hold up the flame chest high, looking through the flame to the other woman, whose face was alight by the mixture of the golden flame and silver moon. “Infertility caused by the envy of A White Flower, only Rejoice can bring growth.” The lead continues her process as Sir Cryst and the Lady turn to a pale Lady Blodwen, supposedly Lady Pomina’s closest companion.
“She won’t be invited to tea anymore,” murmured Merlin. Arthur must have heard, judging by the glare sent to him. But Merlin didn’t take it seriously, since he could see the amused glint Arthur was trying to conceal. Merlin couldn’t help give him a grin. It was good to see Arthur in any mood other than irritated anger, even if he was trying to hide it. If the thought that he was responsible for Arthur’s lifted mood-even for a moment-leaves a fluttering feeling in his chest, Merlin will blame it on nerves.
“Dreams can be chaotic storms,” hearing the voice, Merlin to see the woman stand in front of Morgana. Morgana was staring at her blankly, but even Merlin could see her becoming paler at each word spoken. “But a silver bird can signify the arrival of a calming day.” Walking away from Morgana, she walks to stand in front of Uther. Their gaze unbroken, she begins to speak. Her voice was spoken softly, but held the power of a scream.
"Words written in a boy's voice, sealed by Kings' red wax and a promise held in a scar." It was as though King Uther became a statue, his frame stiff and expression frozen. Murmurs rose among the nobles and their servants as the woman comes to face Arthur. Merlin stood still, silent and wary as she looked at Arthur contemplatively, but it was the other look in her eyes that had him clenching his hands. He can feel his magic surge forward, trying to break free at the probable danger Arthur might be in and Merlin was using all his strength to keep his magic at bay. He almost lost his concentration when the woman began to speak, but it didn't keep him from missing her words.
"The armour of your father, the heart of your mother," she announced solemnly, Merlin didn't miss the look on Uther's face, it seemed that even the King couldn't dispute this description. "Bonded unbroken, two sides of the same coin." Merlin almost jumped in surprise. "Screaming, screaming the pieces shatter. The Dragon & The Falcon shall take flight, side-by-side. His sword, her shield. Destiny." Leaving a bewildered Arthur behind, she and the other two come to stand in front of Merlin, his fear shaking him to the core as their gaze focuses on him.
"Merlin," they whispered reverantly, surprising them of their harmonic voices, the sound of everything and nothing.
"The Maiden is young, but did not speak," the blonde spoke. "The Mother is stable, but did not listen," spoke the lady of red. "The Crone is wise, but did not see," her silver hair glistening in the moonlight, the eldest of the three. For a moment, just a flicker, Merlin envisioned them to be one woman, one person, one being; then he blinked and all he could see were the three they were.
"A promise made, a journey changed," said 'The Maiden'. "The hold of the Old is strong, but not infallible. Born from us, she was."
"To protect her cub, the lioness ran into the wild," said 'The Mother'. "Her blood runs in her Pride, but her heart beats for only her child. Grew from the Lady, she is."
"Man's shell breaks, woman's core spurred," said 'The Crone'. "The Lady barren 'til Union of gold and silver. The screaming darkness is coming, the song of light shall be. Forever peaceful slumber together, they will." 'The Crone' steps forward, takes the hand of a dazed Merlin and brings him closer to the centre of the hall, where the moonlight shines the brightest.
"What we reveal is what is true," she tells him conversationally, if solemnly. Her palm gently on Merlin's cheek "The fault is not yours, but ours. The blame is not yours, but ours. Your thread has shed anew. It is not what is right, or what is wrong. Only what is and what isn't," she gently pulls Merlin's head closer and softly places a kiss on his forehead. "Forgive us," she whispered.
Suddenly she places her palm on his forehead. "ic i scædee sé gríma!" And just as suddenly, he was met with the dark.
*~*~*~*
old english translation:
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
exhausted
calm
awake
energetic
