Merlyn's Final Truth

Lancelot du Lac P1

Arthur had sent Merlyn home early for the evening, ignoring her raised eyebrow, her light-hearted confusion. She hadn't argued, joking about some long-awaited trip to the tavern before she had left, her dark curls disappearing through the door in the early evening. Arthur poured himself a goblet filled with wine, standing by his window as he waited for the familiar footsteps, gazing out upon Camelot as his uncle entered the room.

"Uncle." He greeted, not quite ready to turn and face the man. He swallowed another mouthful of wine, glad for the drink. No matter how sure he was with his decision, he couldn't help his relief at the calm that washed over him with each sip.

"It's late, Arthur. What's troubling you?" Agravaine questioned, his voice edged with concern. The king could almost hear his eyebrows furrowing.

Finally Arthur tore his eyes away from the city below, fixing them on Agravaine. "Nothing. Nothing at all. But I've made a decision, and I felt it only right to inform you right away, though I fear you will not like what I have to say."

He didn't give Agravaine any chance to reply. "I'm going to marry Merlyn. That is, if she says yes."

His uncle, predictably, did not look happy. "Sire-"

"No." Arthur didn't need this. He knew what he felt and there was nothing that could be said to change his mind. "I know what you're going to say. She's a servant, I'm the king. It's not the done thing."

"I fear it's a little more serious than that." Agravaine muttered, but Arthur was ready to argue his case.

"Merlyn has proved herself a valuable support to both myself and the kingdom. I will not ignore the role she has played in my life for a moment longer."

Agravaine scoffed. "You don't need a woman for support, sire. I'm your council."

Arthur could have hit him. He span back towards the window in an attempt to hide his disgust. It was true that his uncle had guided him on many important matters of court, but Merlyn... Merlyn had saved his life, his kingdom. She had never lied to him, at least, not without good reason. She was good and brilliant and looked towards him as if he could change Camelot for good. He wanted to be better, to be braver when he was with her. Agravaine couldn't compete.

"I fear you have rather too much stubble to be my wife." He quipped, suppressing a smile at his uncle's stony face. "Good counsel, solid support and true love... She's exactly what I need. I don't want a queen who spends her days floating around the castle, agreeing with my every word. And the people don't want that either. I've made up my mind. I want Merlyn to be my queen, and I want you to accept her as such."

He was asking a lot, Arthur knew that. Agravaine represented many of the nobles when it came to the unspoken code that restrained his court. He had already bent their will by allowing lowly born men to become knights; this would not necessarily go down well with everyone. Merlyn was a popular servant, yes, but that didn't mean everyone would accept her as queen. But quite frankly, Arthur couldn't bring himself to care. Contrary to what he'd told Agravaine, if Merlyn wanted to spend her days wandering around in floaty dresses making small talk with courtiers, he would be happy. If Merlyn staged a coup to put herself on the throne, he'd get over it. He loved Merlyn. If she agreed to marry him, he would fight whomever got in their way so that they could get somewhere towards their happy ending.

Agravaine smiled tentatively, nodding slowly. Good. He seemed to realise that he had no choice.

~

Morgana heard Agravaine wander into her hobble, but waited until his hand was on her shoulder before pulling out her knife, directing it towards his throat. He needed a little terror in his blood. His life was too easy.