A Different Destiny / Merthur

Conspiracy

"I've had enough," Morgana declared, "one more day with him and I'm going to lose it."

"You said that yesterday."

"I know, but I mean it this time. He's driving me insane."

"Which part, the narcissism or the fake grieving?"

"Both."

Gwen attempted a smile. "I thought you'd say that."

"I'm getting too predictable, aren't I? Do you think he suspects anything?"

Gwen watched as Morgana paced up and down her chambers. It had been over a week since the dragon's attack and, though the flames had long been put out, the King was dead and the Prince was missing. "I think," she said, "that Agravaine's too focused on himself to notice anyone else. Unless you count his obsession with finding Arthur."

"He won't.  He won't find him."

"Do you think he's safe?"

"He's with Merlin," Morgana said, as if that answered the question. Then, glancing out the window at the midday sun, she brought her pacing to a halt. "It's almost time."

"Should we go now?"

"Not just yet. We have to time it perfectly."

"Five more minutes then?"

Morgana nodded. "Five more minutes."

~~~

The streets of Camelot were heaving. People jostled back and forth as they tried to weave paths through the crowd, moving from one market stall to the next like birds between trees. The scene seemed relatively normal. The sun was beating down and people were going about their days the way they always had: baskets in hand, smiles on faces and children running through the streets.

The change was subtle.

Here and there, cobblestones were missing from the paving. Their absence wasn't noticeable unless you tripped. Morgana had seen someone do that twice already. Then, if eyes were cast further up, buildings could be seen undergoing repairs — for charred sides or caved rooves — as though they were merely being updated.

Morgana shuddered. Though the initial shock of the dragon's attack had worn off, the scars had run deep and she, more than anyone, knew their true extent. The villagers knew they'd lost a King. That was all. Everything else was speculation. Morgana couldn't help but feel responsible. She had the power to tell them the truth and every day she withheld her knowledge her guilt grew.

But it was safer this way.

She had no proof of the King's murder. Accusing Agravaine, the acting King, of foul play could constitute treason. It would only add to the people's panic. And even if they believed her, the guards now had a duty to obey Agravaine's every order — at least until Arthur could be found — and she had no desire to lead unarmed people in a revolt against trained fighters, even with the Knights on her side. Besides, even if Agravaine was overthrown, Camelot would still be without a King.

They needed Arthur.

And, until then, they needed a plan.

"What do you think?"

Morgana was pulled from her thoughts to see Gwen, standing in the shade of the nearest stall, holding up a piece of fabric. It was midnight blue with a silvery, shimmering thread woven in spiralling patterns through the middle. "Suits you," she grinned.

"You think so?"

Morgana recognised the code instantly. Her eyes flickered from Gwen to a pair of guards, just passing on their rounds, and then back again. She knew they could see her, but then that was the point.