The Secret Kingdom

Alliances & Late Night Conversations

Arthur stepped out onto the balcony, wanting to get away from the noise for a bit. His conversation with Trevor and observations of the night had left him with many things on his mind.

"You seem content to be on your own. Not interested in fun?" Elia asked as she stepped out behind him.

Arthur turned to look at her as she walked up to his side, smirking slightly.

"Forgive me, my lady. Not in the mood to celebrate," he said blandly.

"I've heard you've been through much recently," she said. Arthur rolled his eyes. Merlin and his big mouth. "I am sorry for the loss of your father. I may not have agreed with his policies, but I understand the pain of losing a parent."

"Thank you," he said formally, though he was curious as to whether she would offer more to her story.

"And I'm sorry about your betrothed," she added, this time much more softly.

"I'm fine," he replied stiffly.

Silence stretched between them as he stared out into the night, watching as the fireflies lazily danced through the air.

"Is it that or this place that sets you on edge?" Elia asked, finally breaking it.

"A bit of both," he replied.

Though with the admission, the tension seemed to leave his shoulders just a bit.

"You have nothing to fear while here. While we may be magical beings, we do not use magic for evil," she said. "It goes against everything we are."

"How so?" Arthur asked, looking down at her.

Elia looked out at the forest, leaning against the railing next to him. He told himself it was for the good of his kingdom that he understood the ways of the elves, though a small part of him had to admit that it was fascinating.

"It's not so much that we wield magic and bend it to our will, but that we are born of magic, therefore we yield to it," she said.

"Yes, we contain magic, but it's not so much that we use it, more like... we are magic," she explained gently. "It gives us our strength, our immortality. But it's more than muttering a few words and magic flows from our fingertips."

She looked up into the branches of the trees around them.

"This place - The Willows - and other elven kingdoms before are born of magic. It's why we exist. The elves are strongest when we dwell where magic lives," she said. "Because of that, we see it as a gift. We only use it for good. To heal. To... protect."

"But magic can corrupt," Arthur said, looking back out into the forest, his face hardening.

"True. Dark magic does exist in the world. And I suppose should one of our kind choose to draw from a source of dark magic, they too would be corrupted. But not here," she said. "Not in the Isles."

"Are you trying to convince me that all magic is not bad?" he asked, looking down at her.

Elia turned to face him, looking up. Her face was unreadable.

"I'm just encouraging you to look at it from another perspective. You've seen my land, my people. Have you seen anything here to suggest that we are evil?" she asked.

"I haven't seen enough to determine one way or the other. Though I have, once again, seen how deadly you can be," he replied.

Elia rolled her eyes.

"You saw us protecting ourselves and then saving your sorry arse," she said, huffing.

"How do I know you won't use that against my kingdom?" Arthur asked, crossing his arms in front of him.