"Overbearing" is only a single way to describe my mother. Her bedazzled war-gowns say a lot about her, but so does her decision to curse our people and the citizens of Camelot.
The prim and proper princess you imagine I am, exists, but is hidden...
Author's note: I completely forgot to say that I do not own Merlin, only Tia belongs to me, and some of the plot changes, but otherwise I cannot take any credit for the show Merlin or Once Upon a Time. Enjoy! Be sure to comment and review if you so desire, it would be appreciated. A warning for this story would be a Major Character death eventually, but not for a little while, so feel free to embark on this journey with fearful Princess Teagan (Tia), and see if she can find courage.
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We leave Gawain and Arthur at the tavern. Awe permeates from my features. A training area for knights, stained-glass windows, a bell tower, and servant activity in the citadel. I have not been here three hours, and I have fallen in love with the sunset touching the castle. Passing servants watch Merlin lead a stranger deep into the mortar of their workplace , others wave at him. My boots clip on the stone floors, as we round a corner to an alcove with steps. The oak door thuds open to an older man swirling mirky liquids into a vial. The physician; Merlin called him Gaius. The physician turned, and his hazel eyes widened.
"Gaius, this is Tia." A moment of fear envelops me when I notice a flicker of dissapproval, but it vanishes the moment Merlin tells him why I'm here.
"I am sorry if I am intruding Gauis." I say.
"Oh, not at all." Gaius' grin is genuine. "You are welcome here. Merlin an I can sleep in this room, and you can take his."
It is then I notice a door on the far end of the room. Beside the door is a set of shelves cluttered with full glass vials. Herb mixtures, and healing oils among them. In a special corner of the room dried sticklewart, and veviter hang from the ceiling. Lavender clusters, as well, dance beside the window. The gradual death of day penetrates the glass, a few candles are already aglow. A cozy space with kind people. My belly is full, and my bones groan and creak from the journey. I may be young and strong, but physical activity is not what I am accustomed to.
"Thankyou, you are both very kind." I follow Merlin with my eyes as he lights a few more candles. Gaius using a mortar and pestle to make a paste of sorts.
"You are welcome." Gaius points to a sentence in one of his books to see what comes next.
"What is that for?" I dip my head to capture a glance at the ingredients he is grinding together.
"I am making a salve for Sir Jude, he discovered a rash on the back of his neck a few days ago. The last remedy I gave him caused an unwanted reaction."
"And what are you doing differently this time?" I have a genuine interest in knowing. The opportunity to help people, and encourage healing without magic.
"I am using a base of aloe; I use it often for burns. I am hopeful this new mixture with help soothe the firey itch he has been haunted with." The Court Physician in The Enchanted Forest had never been willing to give me the time of day to explain these things. My questions were always met with him saying, "I'm sorry your highness, but I am busy this particular hour", but Gaius is not frustrated or angry with me to ask. I wonder how many people are interested in his profession.
"Interesting." My hand gravitates to an unlit bench meant for heating different concoctions.
"Are you interested in medicine?" Merlin sits at the table against the wall.
"Part of me is." This is the truth, and Gaius looks pleased. My eyelids stick to my eyeballs as my vision blurs. My thoughts are a little sluggish. "I think I will sleep now if you don't mind. I am very tired from...everything." Merlin nods and dissapears into the little room up the stairs, then returns a few minutes later.
"All ready for you Tia."
"Thankyou again Merlin, though, I feel terrible taking your bed."
"Don't worry about it, I am happy to help."
My stomach flutters when I close Merlin's door behind me. Eyes like a hurricane, sparkling with gentleness, yet locked in strength; as if he is wiser than his years. A flame's wave behind the wisdom brings a sense of mystery in his countenance. I don't know why I am thinking this, I met him a couple hours ago, but there is something diverse about him. I long to find out why. After I set my stachel beside the stiff bed, I pull my boots off, and curl under the blanket. Beside a clothes cupboard, there is a mound of fabric. Merlin must have had a messy room before I came in here.
When I rest my head down onto the pillow, my mind pulses with the heartbeat of today's memories, and my eyelids are heavy, and my insecurities roll away.
"Teagan." A voice rumbles in the floor, or I think it could have. My real name rings in my mind.
"Teagan." A masculine command echoes louder while an image spears at my thoughts. How to get there. A clearing surrounded by trees, and a quiet moon overhead. Silver fire lifting shadows then creating them.
"Teagan." The voice is someone powerful, someone fierce, someone...magical. My heart is in turmoil, I need to follow him, but I promised myself to avoid magic for the rest of my life as long as I am able. I bury my head under the blanket as I try to escape my own mind. A yelp claws my chest.
"Teagan!" I can't hear him, I refuse to hear him. I will lay here all night, and ignore my imagination. Stubbornness gnaws at my soul.
"Teagan! I know you can hear me!" Visions of wings snapping the treetops, and breath like a furnace scorching their roots. I need to follow the dragon's voice. His topaz eyes glow in the ebony night, and they plead the vitality of my obedience. To the clearing. After I slink out the red covers, my boots form around my feet as I jerk them. I leave my other belongings beside the bed; I only will be gone long enough to see what this sleep-wrecker wants. I don't want to see a dragon, I don't know how to defend myself, yet my feet steal me to where I don't want to go. Sneaking out of the room is easy, but in the corridors, guards patrol and wave their torches around like clubs when they see a shadow. The citadel is void, and wet from condensation. Midnight mists shackle my ankles with darkness. My stomach curdles. I'm closer, ever closer to him. I try to halt my steps.
"Teagan." The dragon speaks again. "A little farther." Legs of brass move on their own once again. Birch trees stutter in the breeze, the flavor of red pools in my mouth. A habit of biting the side of my mouth when afraid, but my nerves calm by that familiar something.
The clearing comes into view, and two perilous wings unshroud his eyes.
