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Modern Merlin AU

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Myrddin Emrys had always known he was different. Before Myrddin had even uttered his first attempt at a word he’d managed to cause objects to float. Myrddin’s mother: Hunith told a fond story of the first ‘trick’ Myrddin had ever performed, “You were nestled against me and my hand had slipped off your side, you looked at me with those gold tinted eyes and suddenly my hand floated back to you.”

Myrddin was 4 years old when he realised that other people couldn’t do what he could do. What was as simple as breathing for Myrddin caused others to recoil away with fear in their eyes. Will, the son of a family friend was his only saving grace. He loved the things Myrddin could do and would try to encourage the tricks. Will and Myrddin became fast friends.

Myrddin was 9 years old when he met the druids and learned more about what he could do and just how powerful they believed him to be. The news had come as a shock but studying the ways of what he now understood to be magic had fascinated him. Myrddin wanted to learn everything he could, anything that might help him. The druids chuckled slightly when he asked to study under them. They could not teach him. They could not keep up with the power he could wield. The druids gifted him a book of spells and left Myrddin’s life for a while.

Myrddin was 13 when he decided what he wanted to be. He’d decided medical history was where he belonged. Something about the past called to him and he’d always wanted to help people somehow. He’d use his knowledge of the past to help better the future, he’d use his knowledge of medicine and magic to help people. Myrddin wanted to help people as much as possible so he also decided to peruse politics a little in the hopes that one day he could stand up for the little people and make a real difference.

Myrddin was 17 when he met the druids again, he was in college when a young druid boy approached him. Mordred was his name and he came seeking Emrys and had allowed Myrddin’s magic to guide Mordred to where they now stood, Mordred started at Myrddin with wonder shining in his eyes. The druids hadn’t sent Mordred he’d simply come to seek help from the most powerful being he knew of.

Myrddin was 18 when he saw the problems that the magic community needed help. They needed someone who understood their needs and could stand up for them. It was then that Myrddin decided he would continue on his route to be a doctor specialising in medical history but he would also aim to become a member of parliament. He would then be able to influence decisions that could help not just the druids but all the little people that those in parliament seemed to forget about.

Myrddin was 25 when he finally achieved his doctorate in medical history. He’d managed to get a degree in politics 4 years prior. Now he wanted to do some work within the community so he’d started applying for jobs in the local clinics and doctors offices.

Myrddin had kept in contact with Mordred over the years and actually had a plan to get the symbol of the druids tattooed onto his body. Myrddin had yet to decide exactly where he wanted it. He’d debated getting it just under his collarbone where Mordred had his but that somehow didn’t feel right.

Myrddin was 26 when he finally got a job in a small local doctors. He’d already started making his appeal to be considered for a member of parliament but without experience in his field they wouldn’t consider him. In retaliation Myrddin had continued to study everything and anything to enhance his knowledge. He also kept up to date with new studies and had finally come across one he might be able to help with.

Myrddin was 28 when he finally became recognised enough to be considered for a position in parliament. He was so overjoyed that he was finally getting to where he’d dreamed of being. He celebrated with a night out drinking upon which Mordred had tagged along. After a few drinks Myrddin had dragged Mordred with him into a tattoo parlour and finally got the druid symbol branded into his skin. He’d decided just over a year ago that it would be going on his back. As Myrddin laid on the chair the needles carving the design into his skin he forgot his reasoning for it.

Myrddin was happy, he was celebrating his 30th birthday as a successful doctor and potentially only a few months from a vote that may land him as a member of parliament with the druids symbol marking him as one of them. He was finally going to be able to help people, actually able to make a real difference. Myrddin was out drinking again with Mordred and a few work friends when things changed. Despite the alcohol in his system this would be a night Myrddin would not forget.

Chapter Text

Tonight was a good night. It was surprisingly not freezing even with the sea breeze from Cardiff Harbour attempting to blow everyone who dared venture too close over.

Myrddin was out celebrating his 30th birthday with: Will a close family friend he’d grown up with, Mordred a druid boy (though he was only 5 years Myrddin’s junior) who’d sought Myrddin out years ago and had become fast friends with the man he admired. And some friends from Myrddin’s work at a local doctors.

Myrddin was enjoying his night out, they’d all had some food and more than a couple of drinks but people were beginning to leave. Some had promised partners to be back by a certain time others had simply had enough or had work the following day. Myrddin stopped listening to the reasons after both Will and Mordred had left him.

Myrddin wondered down the harbour past the water tower and towards the angry waves that tried in vain to breach the harbour wall. The night had taken a turn, the wind had picked up and the cold had crept in. Myrddin was really regretting his decision not to bring a warm coat with him now but he’d not wanted to be burdened by it.

He was so focused on getting to the wall the water was desperately trying to climb that Myrddin didn’t notice the other man until it was too late.

“Watch it.” The man’s friend barked in a posh London accent.

“Why should I?” Myrddin asked the lingering alcohol not allowing for the normal feeling of embarrassment to rise.

The man Myrddin had bumped into turned allowing Myrddin to see more than just his big coat. A chiselled face with a strong jaw framed with bits of slightly wet blonde hair sticking to it graced Myrddin’s view. Blue eyes burned into his and a smirk tugged at the man’s face. “Probably because I’m Arthur, the Prince of Wales.” he stated the smirk ridiculously wide now.

The now identified Prince tugged his hood down revealing the golden locks underneath that had been plastered everywhere after the Prince’s latest press conference at a charity gala. Realisation that this really was the Prince of Wales hit Myrddin like the waves hit the harbour wall behind him.

Myrddin could feel the alcohol fuelled anger rising at the cockiness in the Prince’s words. Reason drowning in both alcohol and anger Myrddin took a step forward to close the distance as his fist suddenly connected with the Prince’s face.

Arthur stumbled back from the force of the blow. His left hand reaching up to touch the drop of blood that escaped his lips. “I could have you arrested for that.” He stated looking at the blood on his finger with the smirk still resting on his face.

The group of men that had once been lingering near the Prince suddenly swarmed Myrddin two of which forcing his arms behind him. The other three creating a human wall between Arthur and Myrddin.

Myrddin scoffed “What you gonna do? Hide behind daddy’s men?” he bit back. Myrddin could tell his rage was fuelled by the alcohol but couldn’t force enough sense back to himself to care.

The Prince laughed slightly. “I could take you apart with one blow.” He started.

“I could take you apart with less than that.” Myrddin bit back lunging forward slightly the Prince’s guards gripped his arms tighter forcing him further away from his target. Myrddin knew that if he used the magic that raged through his veins breaking the men’s hold would be child’s play.

Arthur laughed again, taking a step back towards the man that had punched him. Arthur quickly fished in his pocket for something. “Here” he stated holding a small rectangle of paper towards Myrddin.

Myrddin looked up his eyes focusing on the paper the Prince held, he started for a while trying to work out how he was supposed to take it with the goons still retaining him. Not that he Myrddin wanted whatever the clotpole was offering him.

“Oh for God’s sake.” Arthur scoffed closing the distance between them. He smiled at the men that held Myrddin’s arms back issuing them a nod.

Myrddin felt the arms gripping his loosen their hold and allow his to slip free from the guard’s hold. Myrddin could sense that the guards hands lingered close by at the ready should he try to punch the Prince once again.

Arthur grabbed the hand that had connected with his face and pushed the paper onto it, forcing Myrddin’s hand closed with the paper inside.

“What?” Myrddin squeaked out looking between his hand and the only person he’d ever punched that just so happened to be the Prince.

Arthur smirked once more as he began to move away. “Call me some time, will you?” he questioned not really expecting a reply. He turned and continued back on the journey he’d been on before colliding with a stranger and getting punched in the face. A small chuckle echoed behind him as the events replayed in his head.

Myrddin watched Arthur and the guards leave, hearing a slight chuckle issue from the Prince. Confused Myrddin looked at his still outstretched hand that was holding whatever the Prince had put within it in a death grip. Slowly the fist relaxed and the claw opened to reveal the now crumpled rectangle of paper. Bringing it closer Myrddin forced himself to read the gold lettering. It confirmed the name of the man he’d punched as well as provided a number to contact the man on.

Anger swelled, ‘Why the hell does that arrogant ass think I’ll want to contact him? Myrddin thought. Crumpling the paper into his hand once more he channelled his mounting anger to his feet and began the trek home.

Arriving home some 15 minutes later Myrddin had just managed to deplete his anger and a plan had been slowly forming since realising that he still held the Prince’s number crumpled within his fist. A smirk grew on Myrddin’s lips as he pushes the button to power on his computer.

The desktop shines brightly from the dual screens. Flipping the lamp on near his desk Myrddin settles himself into his chair. Before Myrddin can complete the plan he has come up with he receives a message from Mordred.

A fond smile tugged at Myrddin’s mouth as he reads the message. ‘Hey, hope you had a good night out. Sorry again for leaving early.’

Quickly typing ‘Yeah was great, no worries man thanks for coming out.’ Myrddin suddenly wanted to tell Mordred what happened earlier. ‘Almost got arrested.’ Myrddin added as a separate message.

The dots on the chat page indicated Mordred was typing a reply. ‘What?? Why?’ Myrddin could almost picture the concern on the younger man’s face. The imagery forced a small laugh from Myrddin’s mouth.

‘Punched the Prince of Wales.’ Myrddin replied not wanting to go into much detail about the whole encounter.

The quick reply was not one he was expecting. ‘Was he angry?’

Quickly thinking back to the moment after Myrddin’s fist connected with the Prince’s face caused Myrddin confusion. ‘I don’t know. Gave me his number.’ Myrddin sent realising that he really had no idea how the punch had really been received.

‘You going to call him?’ Mordred had replied whilst Myrddin was pondering what exactly had happened. The words burned into Myrddin’s eyes and he laughed out loud at the idea.

Now was the moment he’d reveal to Mordred his plan. ‘Nah, gonna post it on Twitter.’ Another short laugh escaped Myrddin’s mouth as the idea became words on the screen.

Mordred took a little longer to reply either distracted by something else, working out how to answer or stunned by Myrddin’s idea. Finally the dots appeared on the screen and a message finally appeared. ‘You sure that’s wise? You could get into trouble.’

Now that Myrddin actually thought about it Mordred was right. Myrddin’s mind worked to think of a solution to the problem that would be the police seeing the tweet and quickly arresting him. Myrddin still wanted to post the number, it was the perfect revenge as far as Myrddin was concerned. Besides the Prince could easily change his number but then would never be contacted by Myrddin. Not that he had any plans to contact him but the Prince didn’t know that.

‘If you really want to post the number at least do it with an anonymous account or send it to me and I’ll do it.’ Myrddin read having just noticed the message.

A grin split Myrddin’s face ‘Thanks man I will.’ was the reply he sent.

‘No worries, anyway man I’ve got to go. Got to get stuff together for tomorrow, not all of us were lucky enough to get tomorrow off work.’ Came the next message. Glancing at the clock Myrddin noticed it was a lot later than he originally thought it was.

‘Catch you later man.’ Myrddin sent quickly before opening a new tab and accessing twitter. Quickly signing out of his account Myrddin began the process to create a new one. He quickly created a new email one that no one would guess was his. Myrddin named his account ‘anonymous753’ and entered ‘Blank’ into the name. Now all that was left was to create the tweet.

‘For a good time call me any time night or day.’ Myrddin added the number with some tags that should help the tweet get noticed. Smiling to himself Myrddin sent the tweet and quickly signed out of the account before logging back into his normal one.

Picking the Prince’s business card up Myrddin ripped the rectangle into quarters and then placed them into the bin. Smiling slightly Myrddin decided to spend some more time on his computer before calling it a night.

Myrddin hoped the Prince got lots of calls.

Chapter Text

Arthur Pendragon was born into royalty, the first son of Uther and Ygraine Pendragon (the current King and Queen of England). Something had gone wrong though, before Arthur could even be embraced by his mother doctors were swarming in a desperate attempt to save her life. They were unsuccessful.

Arthur was 7 months old when he could no longer be comforted by his elder sister Morgana or any of the nurse-maids. The screams echoed around the mostly empty palace until finally Uther held his wailing son. Arthur had quietened immediately cuddling close to his father.

Arthur was 3 years old when he met Leon, Gwen and Elyan. The children of currently serving guards had been brought in to help both Arthur and Morgana socialise. Uther had been very weary at first as he was viciously protective of his children (despite how badly he showed it). The children enjoyed their time together. Arthur became particularly close to Leon and Morgana didn’t want Gwen to leave her. Elyan was torn between them, Arthur enjoyed playing with him but Elyan wanted to be near his sister Gwen.

Arthur was 7 years old when he decided he hated press conferences or any occasion that forced him into the public eye. He’d never be able to achieve anything worthwhile as he never had a moment outside alone. Yes, Arthur enjoyed the drawing, painting and piano lessons but they’d never help him understand his citizens.

Arthur was 10 when he pleaded to go to a school. The walls of the palaces were beginning to consume the young Prince and he feared he’d never understand his people when it became his turn to rule.

Arthur was 11 when he started attending an all boys boarding school. The work was challenging but Arthur loved it, he loved the freedom of being outside walls that seemed to scream: royalty. Leon and Elyan also attended the school with Arthur as his unofficial bodyguards. There was of course other bodyguards but Arthur understood the need for them. Arthur simply tried his best to enjoy his time away from the jail commonly known as the palace.

Arthur was 15 when he was officially named heir to the throne. Arthur still sometimes wondered why Morgana who was three years his senior had not been granted the title. Uther had lectured Arthur for days about traditions, Arthur was sorry he asked.

Arthur was 18 and attending a college when he met Lancelot. The man had saved his life. A thug had rushed at Arthur, somehow getting around both Leon and Elyan and had dived at Arthur with rage and hated in his eyes. Lancelot pulled Arthur from behind and leapt into the crazed man’s path. Arthur would later learn of the bomb that the crazed man had strapped to his chest.

Arthur begged his father to allow Lancelot to join the guard that protected him. Uther had not wanted to allow a commoner unrestricted access to his only son and heir. Arthur and Uther finally came to an agreement. Lancelot proved himself more than worthy to protect the Prince in the challenges that followed.

Arthur was 21 when he met Gwaine. Arthur had been invited out with some fellow students from university and he’d somehow managed to convince his father to allow him to go. Arthur wore a disguise (a baseball cap and glasses), it fooled no one but was the only way Uther would allow his son to attend. A very drunk man had barged into the bar the students were gathered in and had wormed his way towards Arthur. Gwaine barrelled towards the man forcing them both onto the floor. A roll revealed a knife now wedged in Gwaine’s leg and Arthur realised he’d been saved once again.

Arthur once again begged his father to allow a man that had saved him to be allowed to protect him. Surprisingly Uther had not issued a fight about Gwaine joining Arthur’s personal guards. Arthur suspected it was because of the knife wound that Gwaine was still recovering from.

Arthur was 26 when Lancelot introduced him to Percy (Percival). Arthur took one look at the man and began his way to his father’s room to ask for Percy to join his guards. As it turned out Percy had already been assigned to the guards. Percy was a recruit from the military that had somehow helped Uther in the past. Uther and Arthur had a long debate about where Percy should be assigned. Uther conceded and allowed Arthur to add him to Arthur’s personal guard upon learning the fast friendship that had grown between the other four guards and Percival.

Arthur was 28 when he was told to start looking for a bride. Uther had begun to feel uneasy that Arthur had shown no interest in any previous suitors. Uther would not force Arthur to marry but he greatly encouraged Arthur to look for a match.

Arthur was 30 when he began doing more of the press conferences and ceremonies. Uther wanted to lower his appearances in public so their subjects could learn more of Arthur. Arthur did not enjoy these endless talks, although he found some solace in the charity events and the times he was permitted to visit the hospitals.

Arthur was 32 when he’d finally found his stride. He’d recently just coordinated a charity gala where he’d been forced into a press conference, this had resulted in Arthur’s face being scattered everywhere the press could get the image to stick.

Arthur was regardless very happy. Especially considering that Uther was permitting Arthur some time to just enjoy himself, with Arthur’s guards tagging along as always.

Arthur was currently doing a tour of the country's biggest children’s hospital and hospices. Though the tour was only a few weeks in. Arthur was enjoying spending time with the children despite how sick some of them were. The children all seemed to like Arthur, the doctors and nurses seemed to enjoy telling him about the work they did. Arthur really enjoyed taking some mental notes of areas that needed help, he intended to bring it to his father’s attention. With the hope that Uther would be able to work with the current prime minister to organise the help that was needed.

Arthur felt himself relaxing as he left the last hospital for the day. A short while later found Arthur and his guards strolling down Cardiff Harbour. A smile tugged at Arthur’s lips as his guards joked and laughed with each other, clearly all enjoying the chance to unwind.

A stranger bumped into Arthur’s shoulder causing the Prince to step back to avoid falling. Thus he meet a citizen he would never forget.

Chapter Text

Today has been a busy day. Arthur was currently on a tour of the country’s best children’s hospitals and hospices. The tour itself was something Arthur enjoyed, the press that followed his every move put a slight dampener on the experience.

However Arthur was determined to use the tour for good and ensured he made a small list of problems the places were having. He’d look over the list at the end of the tour once he returned to London. Once the list was narrowed down to certain problem areas Arthur intended to present it to his father. Uther would hopefully be able to try and convince the current prime minister to help these areas out.

The day itself had been long. The children had been so excited to see him, Arthur had allowed himself longer than scheduled with them. The smiles were more than worth the time he would miss this evening. The staff of the hospitals or hospices were always very warm and kind to Arthur, though he always worried that the staff only acted this way because of his rank.

The last visit of the day always felt a little rushed compared to the others. Unsure why he felt this way Arthur couldn’t help but feel especially rushed today. Arthur guessed it may be because he was eagerly awaiting his time out in the city.

Night had descended when the Prince and his guards left the hospital for their current housing. Excitement bloomed in Arthur’s chest as they finally arrived back. After a quick change Arthur and his guards were ready to go.

To avoid the press that had no doubt worked out where they were staying the group slipped out of the back door. Having already arranged to walk into the centre Arthur pulled the hood of his coat over his head.

The night had taken a cold turn by the time the group was walking near the harbour. The wind whipped around Arthur’s group as the waves crashed against the harbour wall. A particularly powerful gust of wind forced Arthur to put his head down, his chin resting against his coat collar.

Focusing on watching his feet below him Arthur didn’t see the stranger until their shoulder collided with theirs.

“Watch it.” Leon barked out causing Arthur to stop. Shaking his head slightly, clearly Leon hadn’t realised that Arthur hadn’t been able to see the stranger.

“Why should I?”A northern welsh accent asked. The fire behind the words made Arthur turn to face the stranger.

Cheekbones were the first thing Arthur noticed, those prominent cheekbones that looked dangerously close to cutting themselves out of the man’s face. The annoyance on the man’s face was evident from the scowl and twist in his lips. A chuckle nearly broke from Arthur as the wind that whipped the stranger’s raven locks drew Arthur’s attention to the man’s ridiculous ears.

Angry blue eyes started into Arthur’s causing him to smirk. “Probably because I’m Arthur, the Prince of Wales.” He stated the smirk increasing.

Doubt flickered across the strangers face so without really thinking it through Arthur lowered his hood to reveal the hair trapped underneath. Recognition flashed across the stranger’s face, anger quickly followed. The man took a step forward and before Arthur could distance himself a fist connected powerfully with his cheek near his lips.

Arthur felt himself stumbled back from the force of the blow. Raising his left hand he felt touched the warmth leaking from his lips. With a smirk Arthur simply stated. “I could have you arrested for that.” Blood, the warmth leaking from his lips had apparently been blood. Arthur hadn’t realised the blow had been that powerful.

Looking back at the enraged stranger Arthur noticed Lancelot and Elyan restraining the stranger’s arm behind his body. Leon, Percy and Gwaine had created a human wall between Arthur and the welsh man. Arthur could still see the fire burning in the man’s eyes over his guards shoulders.

A loud scoff sounded from the stranger. “What you gonna do? Hide behind daddy’s men?” he questioned anger pulsing through the words.

Arthur wasn’t sure if it was the man’s face, the words or that this stranger really didn’t care that they’d punched the heir to the throne. Glancing at the anger in the defenceless man’s eyes forced a laugh to bubble out. “I could take you apart with one blow.” Arthur confidently stated.

“I could take you apart with less than that.” Came the striking reply from the stranger as he lunged forward slightly.

Arthur watched Elyan and Lancelot tighten their grip upon the man’s arms. The stranger creased his brow at the increase of pressure and Arthur saw a tint of gold flick across the man’s eyes. Arthur couldn’t resist the laugh that bellowed out, the man looked like an angry puppy that the wind could knock over.

With an internal chuckle Arthur stepped forward and around his human wall, ignoring the worried looks his guards flashed him. Reaching into his pocket Arthur fished a business card out as he stood in front of the stranger. “Here” he stated holding the business card out to the man.

Lancelot and Elyan looked at Arthur with concern and confusion. The stranger’s face finally relaxed from the anger to utter confusion as he glared a hole in the card.

Realising the man could hardly take the card with his arms behind him Arthur sighed heavily. “Oh for God’s sake.” Arthur stated though it sounded more like a scoff. Taking another step forward to close the distance between himself and his attacker. Issuing a smile and a nod to both Elyan and Lancelot, Arthur bit back a laugh at the confusion but sighed with relief as the guards released the man.

The stranger forced his arms beside himself once the guards grip had become loose enough for him to do so. Elyan and Lance lingered close to the man, likely watching every muscle movement for any further threat.

Reaching forward Arthur grabbed the hand that had connected with his face. Surprisingly the stranger allowed Arthur to drag his arm forward and the business card to be placed within his hand. Slightly confused Arthur closed the stranger’s hand around the business card.

“What?” The stranger squeaked glancing between his hand and Arthur.

Smirking at the squeaked word Arthur moved backwards, catching the strangers eyes he questioned. “Call me some time, will you?” Arthur did not expect a reply judging from the deep confusion in the stranger’s eyes. Turning away from the man Arthur continued on in the direction he had been travelling before bumping into a man and getting punched in the face.

A chuckle leapt from Arthur’s mouth as the events refreshed themselves in his mind. Arthur felt rather than saw his guards join him leaving the strange man behind.

“Why did you do that?” Percy enquired with a touch of annoyance tinting his tone.

The confused look of the stranger flashed to Arthur’s mind. “Because it was funny.” Arthur replied with a small chuckle.

As they walked Arthur decided to call Morgana knowing she’d appreciate the information from him now rather than his guards later.

"Arthur!” Morgana’s voice sounded though the phone. "Are you finally done for the night?" She inquired with a slight yawn.

Quickly glancing at his watch Arthur realised it was a little later than he’d originally thought. "Yeah, just hanging out with the guys now." He replied, Arthur had wanted to just tell her the news but decided against it.

"That's nice.” Morgana’s tired voice stated. From the sound of her voice Arthur knew he had to quickly grab Morgana’s attention or she’d excuse herself in favour of her bed.

"I've met someone." Arthur declared in a rush, the words almost blurring together in his haste.

"Oh?” Curiosity replaced the tiredness in Morgana’s voice. “Who?" She queried.

A smirk tugged at Arthur’s lips as he answered. "Some welsh guy in Cardiff.

A scoff echoed through the phone. "Well, that's hardly surprising." Morgana’s voice was void of all emotion and Arthur could clearly picture the deadpan look she no doubt was sending him.

A chuckle escaped Arthur as the image flashed in his mind. "Ha, I guess.”

"What's his name? “Morgana quizzed with a suppressed yawn.

"Dunno... " Arthur admits trailing off as a heavy sigh echoes through the phone. "He did punch me in the face though.” Arthur finished holding back the chuckle as the events replay in his mind.

"What? Why” Concern laces Morgana’s questions.

Arthur’s smirk morphs into a full smile as he realises the reason the stranger punched him. "Told him I'm the Prince of Wales"

"What and he didn't believe you?" Morgana wondered with confusion tainted concern.

The laugh bellows from Arthur before he can bite it down. "No, he believed me.” The stranger’s face flashing into his mind forces another laugh from Arthur. “That's why I got punched."

With another heavy sigh Morgana utters. "Well I hope you filed a complaint."

"Na, gave him my number, told him to call" Arthur admits knowing there is no point keeping the truth from Morgana.

A huff sounds as a disapproving voice utters. "Which number?"

"Mine?" Arthur confessed with slight confusion.

"As in this one? Arthur do you realise what a stranger could do with that number? What if he sells it to the press?" Morgana snapped then after a heavy sigh continued in a hushed tone. “If dad ever finds out he’s going to kill you.”

Fear suddenly gripped Arthur as Morgana’s words sunk in. "I was hoping he'd use it to call me" Arthur whined.

"Well you’re an idiot!" Morgana scolded.

A half hearted laugh seeped out of Arthur as he sniffed. "Yeah, love you too."

The rest of the night passes uneventfully until Arthur’s phone begins to ring. Later when Arthur learns of the tweet he decides Morgana is right. His dad is going to kill him.

Chapter Text

Morgana Pendragon; the first born child of Uther and Ygraine, was born a princess. As first born a lot of people (her father included) had hoped she’d be a boy. Though these people were disappointed they soon came to love the princess.

Morgana was 2 years old when she realised her father held some hatred of her, it would take her some time to realise that it was because she was female.

Morgana was 3 years old when Arthur was born. Morgana wanted to hate him, his birth cost their mother her life. Morgana stormed into the room that housed the screaming Arthur with hate filled eyes. Arthur managed to grab her hand, warmth chased all the anger from Morgana’s mind. As she stared at the soothing new-born she decided that maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

Morgana was 6 years old when Uther allowed some children of trusted guards into their house. Morgana was unsure of the boys: Leon and Elyan but quickly made friends with Gwen. She’d beg Gwen not to leave on a night, Morgana was desperate for female company that wasn’t from the adults that frequently surrounded her. Uther did not allow Gwen to stay longer than the other children.

Morgana was 8 years old the whole family stated attending more public events. Morgana was worried, Arthur was only 5 and very shy. She stood strong in front of her brother, prepared to hold off the world if he asked it of her. He never did though the hand that silently grabbed Morgana’s reassured her that he needed her.

Morgana was 10 years old when Arthur told her that he hated being in the public’s eye. She reassured him that she’d always be there with him if he needed it. Arthur had thanked Morgana enthusiastically and enveloped her in a very tight hug. Smiling she hugged back, realising someone appreciated her.

Morgana was 11 years old when the dreams started. Just little things at first, she’d know what the weather would be the following day, or what words might be said in anger or sadness. Morgana was unsure how to deal with the dreams that turned into nightmares. She didn’t understand how she dreamt of things that had yet to happen. For some time Morgana had convinced herself that she caused the images she dreamed of. She’d happily never dream again.

Morgana was 15 years old when she learned she would not be named heir to the throne. Morgana had argued with Uther for days but Uther was too focused on traditions to consider wavering. Anger coursed through Morgana and she decided that she would become more involved with promoting women’s rights. Morgana buried herself in this work, working so hard she refused to feel anything but the anger that powered her.

Morgana was 18 years old when Arthur was named heir to the throne. Morgana smiled for Arthur, knowing the Prince was not at fault. She heard the arguments that echoed through the walls from Arthur telling Uther that Morgana deserved the title. Uther had lectured Arthur for days on tradition just as he had done with Morgana. The siblings found comfort in knowing they had both experienced the same lectures.

Morgana was 21 years old when Arthur started college. Morgana was plagued with nightmares about the danger that surrounded him. She would message the guards to be extra careful on certain days, claiming whispers had been heard. So far Arthur had escaped danger. Morgana feared the day that Arthur would not be so lucky.

Morgana was 22 years old when she caused a fire. One thunderous night a particularly bad nightmare had refused to release her. A strike of lightning hitting the castle and breaking her window had allowed Morgana the escape she needed. Flying up in shock the room burned gold and an unlit candle re-lighted itself with a massive flame which caught the curtains. Morgana had rushed from the room, thankfully the fire was tamed quickly.

The gold that had flashed across Morgana’s vision had plagued her for days, she eventually consulted the palace’s doctor Gaius. He had at first brushed off the experience as a trick of the mind.

A few weeks after the fire Morgana was having lunch in one of the gardens, staring tiredly into her cup of herbal tea. Morgana focused on the flower painted onto the bottom of the cup, a flash of gold swept across her vision and Morgana watched in amazement as the painted flower unfolded and became a normal flower submerged in her cooling tea.

Morgana rushed to Gaius and showed him the flower in the cup. Another flash of gold forced the tumbling cup to freeze in its decent to the floor. Gaius stared at the frozen cup then back to Morgana. A crash indicated the cup had unfrozen as Gaius told her of magic and how she seemed to posses some.

Morgana was 25 years old when she finally had the chance to speak at a gala. Draped in an expensive gown with jewels glistening from her ears and neck Morgana read the approved words. She hated the words, they were not her. The words were meant to please everyone but all Morgana wanted was for these people to hear her. She didn’t push though, not this time.

Morgana was 28 years old when she finally got to speak about women’s rights to a willing audience. It was during a protest outside the prime minister’s house. Word had gotten back to the Palace about the protest and as a women Morgana was more than willing to put her name and rank behind the worries of the people.

The protest had not gone well, violence had broken out around the edges and somehow a rock was thrown in Morgana’s direction, she’d managed to dodge it with a slight flash of gold tainting her eyes. Morgana worried she’d never be able to control this ‘magic’ she just hoped she’d never hurt anyone with it. The police forcing her into a car snapped her from her daze as she was whisked away to the safety of the cell known as the palace.

Morgana was 31 years old when she learned that Uther was urging Arthur to look for a bride. Morgana had spoken on behalf of Arthur and forced Uther to agree to a match of Arthur’s choosing. Uther had however insisted on a time limit. Arthur had until he was 35 to find a match or Uther would find one for him. Morgana decided not to burden Arthur with the fear of the deadline.

Morgana was 33 years old when Uther wanted to reduce his public appearances. Arthur was forced to do the majority of them now as the heir to the throne however Morgana had persuaded Uther to allow her to take some of the burden. Arthur still wanted time outside of the Palace and all it stood for. Morgana had resigned herself to the cage she lived in.

Morgana was 35 years old when her idiot of a brother gave a stranger his personal number and the stranger posted it on the Internet. Sighing as she read the tweet she realised that today was the day that Uther was going to kill his only son.

Chapter Text

Hey guys,

Sorry this isn't the chapter you were expecting but I thought I'd take some time to explain some stuff to you.

First of all this fic is not dead and I do plan on continuing it I just need some time.

Im so very greatful for the kudos and comments this fic has received, it brings me joy every time I get an email about anything regarding this fic. So thank you so much to everyone.

I am currently 4 days into starting floxotine (which is for anxiety and depression for those who haven't heard of it) and it is messing with my head at the moment.

Before I started the medication I was already struggling with motivation and it has sapped any I had away from me.

I apologise but I need some time to sort myself out before I can return to this fic and the love that you all have shown it.

Please understand that I want nothing more than to write for you but my mind is not cooperating with me at the moment. (It's taken me these 4 days to convince myself that I should explain what is going on.)

Sorry again, I hope you can be patient with me and I hope to be able to write again soon.

Thank you so much for everything.

Kind regards,