The Future of Camelot

Love Never Dies

When Morgana left Gwen's apartment, she didn't know where she was going. Although Morgan had known Somerset well, Morgana could only subconsciously navigate the small roads. She found herself outside an ancient church. It was the crumbled tower of Glastonbury Tor, but from her childhood, she knew it as the tower of Avalon. The lake of Avalon had dried up since her time, the tower was falling down, and the forests had been been chopped until there were but scatterings of trees. Morgana knelt down by the tower.

"Hello, brother dear," she said to his final resting place. "I never imagined how much effect your death would have on the world. So many loved you. How did you make them love you, Arthur?" She received no response other than the wind whipping her long hair around her head, so she continued.

"I remember being loved. You loved me, didn't you, brother? What made you stop? Because I never did." This solitude brought out truths she had pushed away in her anger. Once begun she could not stop the words tumbling into this void.

"I loved you, dear brother. You must understand that I couldn't let you live. You would have defied me as queen, which I deserved to be. I had to save Camelot from the tyranny of men. I had to save magic. Uther of course had to go, but I would have let you live. I'd have let anyone who bowed to me live a safe, happy life."

The cool wind moaned through the valley and stirred Morgana's thoughts. "I remember being loved. I miss it. Oh, Arthur! What have I done! I killed people, people I loved. People that were so loved, and are so missed. I lost much, but could it have been prevented?" A raven cawed nearby, and she remembered why she had done what she did.

"Uther persecuted my kind. You followed in his footsteps. Mordred betrayed you because of your decisions, and you killed him. You betrayed me, as well. I shall never forgive you, Arthur Pendragon."

The howling wind stopped abruptly, and Morgana felt suddenly alone. She shivered, although the night wasn't very cold, and wished for her magic. "I must find the word," she resolved.

"Gwaine. Lancelot. Percival. Elyan. Leon. Gaius. Uther. Gorlois. Mordred. What do I need! Camelot. Druids. Catha. Sorcery? Witchcraft? Dragon. Aithusa. Merlin. Emrys!"

Even after she called the last name, the air was still. She stood and glared into the growing darkness shadowing the tower. "I will find a way, Arthur. When I do, you will be glad to be where you are. I will have another chance to rule the world, and this time, nothing will stop me."

0O0O0O0

Gwen had brought out her inflatable mattress, and Lancelot was blowing it up. He seemed to remember a great deal more about being Lance than Morgana had, and certainly more than Gwen did. Merlin saw this and theorized that the new souls' lives were related to how long they had lived in Camelot. Gwen had lived to be an old woman, and could hardly remember anything about her second life.

Gwen did remember her whole life, but all of it after the death of Arthur seemed like a dream. A vivid dream that she remembered with much clarity, however. Arthur's son that had been born seven months after his death. The wars she had waged, the treaties she had negotiated, the people she had condemned and exonerated all stuck fast in her head. The deaths of her knights also refused to budge from her mind. She wasn't sure she wanted to forget, however. The death of Gwaine had been at the beginning of her reign, another death in a time of interminable mourning.

Percival had never fully recovered from Gwaine's death, and had constantly jumped into reckless situations. He died in a twenty-to-one combat some years later. Leon had outlived Gwen, but Merlin informed her that he had stayed true to the second King Arthur until a quiet death. Merlin had attended to him until the end, and Leon had survived for years after most people in that time did.

Gwen only remembered small parts about her most recent life. She knew that she was friends with Morgana, then called Morgan, and had been her friend for years. They went to a school together? Yes, that was it. That life was all quite blurry until they had met Merlin in the coffeeshop.

"Is this firm enough?" Lancelot was asking Merlin. Although Gwen remembered Merlin as a bright, young man who was happy and excited just about living. But after Arthur died, he had mellowed. Emotions seemed to have been too much for him, so he shut down. Now, it seemed as if a new life at been given to him as well.

"Gwen?" said Merlin. She looked over at him. He and Lancelot watched her, concerned looks on their faces. "Are you alright?"

"Of course," she automatically responded, but didn't feel alright. The changes were overwhelming her.

"You don't think this mattress will explode if I overfill it, do you?" asked Lancelot. He seemed genuinely concerned.

"You'd know better than I," Gwen replied, but nevertheless joined her friends beside the mattress and tested the firmness. Lancelot's hand brushed hers, and she quickly pulled away. He lowered his head and stood up hastily.

"I'm sorry," he stammered. Gwen heard Merlin quietly leave the apartment, giving them privacy.

"Don't be sorry, Lancelot," she said. "It's my fault. I'm the one who should be sorry. I left you for Arthur, and - "

"You loved Arthur," Lancelot said. "I never blamed you for that. I'm sorry that I didn't let go sooner. Gwen, that man, that wasn't me. I would never take you away from Arthur."

"I know. I know. But I am sorry. I did love you. But now . . . I am an old woman in a young body. I am also the wife of a husband who may yet return."

"I understand," said Lancelot. He did, to an extent. He had given up on being with Gwen a long time ago, yet the memories of Lance had revived old feelings. His honor was too great to do anything, and it always would be. Guinevere was no longer his lover and never could be. "I'll get Merlin," he said lamely. "Tell him it's safe to come in."

Gwen laughed at this. Lancelot opened the door to the hall, but Merlin wasn't outside it. Puzzled, they checked the stairs and the street, but he wasn't to be found. They headed back to the flat. In the kitchen, they found a note from him that said,

Lancelot and Guinevere,

You have a lot to discuss, so I'll go for a walk. I'll try to find Morgana. I may be late, but back tonight I'm sure.

Merlin

0O0O0O0

Merlin had an idea of where to find Morgana, but he hadn't been sure. His suspicions were confirmed when, from behind a small grove of trees near the tower of Avalon, appeared the shape of a sleeping woman. Morgana slept soundly, and he didn't disturb her even when he knelt beside her.

"Morgana," he said. She rolled from her side to her back, and Merlin could see her face. It was more open and innocent than Merlin had ever seen before. He didn't want to disturb her, but nor did he feel comfortable moving her without her permission. He decided sit a few feet away and wait until she woke.

"Merlin?" cried Morgana. She twisted and convulsed. Merlin tried to calm her, but she only calmed to sporadic twitches.

"Morgana, wake up! You're having a nightmare," he said. Without even meaning to, his magic grasped her thoughts and revealed them.

It was the day he poisoned her. This time, it was from her perspective. He saw himself offer her a waterskin. The look on his face was terrible, but he could feel Morgana's trust in him. She took it and drank the poison. She twitched violently in his arms. He felt the pain rushing through her body as the poison took hold. Her last memory was of him holding her sadly.

"I'm so sorry, Morgana," he said sadly when he left her mind. He couldn't tell if she heard him. Either way, she calmed and fell into a deep sleep.