Spoiler! :
Morgan wasn’t allowed back to Camelot. She wasn’t exactly winning friends before, but her actions surrounding my birth made it obvious that she wasn’t actually on Arthur’s side. That didn’t bother her though. She’d created a domain of her own as close to Cornwall has she could get.
When I was ten, she finally convinced my mother to give me up. It had taken awhile. Morgause kept me with her as a misguided form of penance. I actually overheard the conversation where she finally surrendered.
I was hiding from King Lot. Gareth and Gaheris had just left for Camelot, just as Gawaine had, and their father was looking for someone lash out at. It was too dangerous for me to be that person.
Morgan probably knew I was there. I can’t prove it, but it’s exactly the kind of thing she loved to do. They two women were already deep in discussion when Morgan steered my mother into the room.
“...and what about his arm? Was that an ‘accident’ too?”
“Lot wasn’t even involved that time. He just fell.”
“Down a flight of steps. Someone, or something, pushed him down those stairs.”
“No.”
“You can’t deny he’s in danger Morgause. We can’t afford to. Arthur can’t order his death in public, it’s true. But if there was an incident, and the boy didn’t survive, it would make Merlin very happy.”
“I’m his mother. I can keep him safe.”
“How can you protect him against magic? Even if you could, you have the rest of your family to think of. Your own husband wants Mordred dead, and you can’t keep him away.”
I heard a sob. Morgan had managed to strike a nerve.
“I have the freedom to invest everything in his welfare,” she continued. “Sister, please just let me do what’s best for your son.”
I didn’t hear Morgause answer. I think she must have nodded.
My quality of life improved dramatically after that. Morgan made sure I had everything, including a solid education. To my disappointment, she couldn’t teach me magic. I didn’t have the basic level of natural talent required. Instead, she had me focus on history, philosophy, politics, and anything else she could think of that might be useful to the future king of Britain.
I didn’t mind that she was grooming me. I enjoyed to work she assigned, especially since she wasn’t forcing me to learn combat skills. I was no longer coming down with new ailments, and I was rarely ever injured. For the first time in my life, I was truly happy.
Meanwhile we listened to the stories flowing from Camelot. I made sure to talk to people other than Morgan about them, and even without her bias I thought Arthur’s knights were mostly despicable oafs pretending to be heroes.
Unfortunately, I began to doubt that my beloved aunt was much better. As I grew older, our relationship became increasingly strained.
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