Merlyn's Final Truth

The Secret Sharer P1

Emrys.

The name haunted her dreams, flashes of the old woman's face cursing Morgana's resting moments as she mourned her own failures. Arthur was alive. Merlyn hadn't been killed; she couldn't help but loathe the tiny part of her that was glad of it. She had done the right thing. Even if Arthur had somehow survived the Fomorroh, the loss of his beloved servant would be enough to end him. Merlyn was the key to Camelot; if she would not take her side, then Morgana had no choice. Still, it didn't help that the pair had a omnipotent witch on their side, even if she was eighty years old.

"Emrys was here? She knew of our plans?" Agravaine exclaimed from beside her. Morgana almost startled. She'd forgotten he was there.

"She knows all our plans, all our secrets. She knows everything." Morgana shivered, panic shuddering through her core. Her house was empty now, silent except for the shallow breathing steady through the crisp air. The pair sat at her dingy table, her belongings hardly in order. There was a damp smell, like the very wooden shack was rotting, waiting to topple at the most inopportune moment.

"Someone's telling her." Agravaine murmured, deep in thought. Then, he sighed, coming to a realisation Morgana couldn't quite grasp.

"Gaius." He hissed. "When I first asked him if he knew of Emrys, he claimed not to know, but he was lying. I knew he was lying!"

Her uncle slammed his hand down on the table, the old wood creaking under the impact.

Morgana could barely understand what he was saying, struggling to keep her thoughts together.

"Gaius." She breathed, uncertain of the realisation.

Sensing this, Agravaine pushed. "He's the only one in Camelot who would know of the Fomorroh. It has to be him. He's been telling Emrys everything."

Morgana wasn't sure if that was true, but he was certainly the most likely suspect. She stood, turning away from her uncle in an attempt to get away from his slimy face.

"Good." She sneered wickedly, twisting back on her heel to face her uncle once again. "Then he can lead us straight to him."

Agravaine stood himself, a faint frown upon his face. "Gaius is loyal... and very stubborn. He won't do that willingly."

Oh, Morgana knew the extent of Gaius' loyalty. She had spent years terrified of her own dreams, only to realise that the physician had known of her magic all along. Perhaps he kept it from her in a misguided attempt to save her from herself, but it was a trespass she could not ignore.

"Who said he had to be willing?" She smiled sinisterly, glad to see genuine fear in Agravaine's eyes.

~

Merlyn flung open the curtains, beams of light penetrating the warm darkness of Arthur's chambers. He lay with his back to the windows, his bare shoulders barely covered by his covers. With a lazy smile, Merlyn turned to him, pulling his blankets back to reveal more skin to the cold air.

"Up you get." She ordered, picking a piece of cheese off of Arthur's plate.

"What for?" He groaned, refusing to move. But Merlyn couldn't let him stay in bed forever. She'd had enough of being told off for her king's lateness.

"A bath."

"What about breakfast?" Arthur groaned, still refusing to move away from his comfortable sheets.

Merlyn wasn't having any of this. "Say 'ah'."

"Ah?" The king realised his mistake as a dry bread roll was shoved delicately into his mouth. He tried to say something, but it was indistinguishable amongst the bread crumbs.