To Plaque or Not to Plaque? (MARIAN)

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Morgana had barely set her things down in her flat before heading out again into the town. The flat was furnished and decorated perfectly, even down to Mordred's room being painted in his favourite colours, red and green. But she wanted to make it perfect for when he arrived. She wanted it to feel like home as soon as he arrived. And for that she needed toys, pictures on the wall, those little plaques on the door that said 'Mordred's Room'. And so Morgana found herself in the Mall, heading for the toy shop.

But then... Mordred had so far grown up in Camelot. In Medieval England, without mechanical toys, and pictures of trains and planes on the walls, and little plaques on the door that said 'Mordred's Room'. What if she decorated the place, made it perfect for a modern 10 year old boy... and he hated it? What if he became homesick for Camelot? For rushes on the floor, and fires in the grate, and robes and armour and everything he'd grown up knowing in Camelot?

Morgana sighed, leaning back against the wall outside the toy shop, and rubbed her eyes. She missed him already, and it had only been two short days since she had left him with the maid. She wondered how much she had already missed in that short time - Mordred didn't exactly grow and develop at a normal rate. She just... she just wanted to make things perfect for him, make sure he was happy here. He had to be happy and comfortable for him to develop, and learn all he needed to know in preparation to become the great King she knew he'd be. The King she was going to make him into.

But for now, she needed to work out how he'd feel about a plaque saying 'Mordred's Room'.

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This compulsive need to shop for the baby was getting ridiculous. There were so many interesting toys and adorable outfits and wonderful things that she wanted to give her child, but it was ridiculous to spend money on anything that would not be used within the first few months. After that... well, it was not like they could take these unusual clothes or ‘magical’ toys with them when they returned to Nottingham.

Of course she could just leave everything here, donate it to a shelter that would redistribute it to some poor, ailing families. It was with this thought in her head that Marian found herself once more in the town of Trenale, wandering about the shops. It was not like she had to buy anything either, but that was much more difficult to do than give away what she did happen to buy.

Approaching the toy shop, her pace slowed when she saw a woman leaning against the wall with her face buried in her hands. She seemed somewhat familiar, but unable to see her face Marian could not place her.

“Excuse me, are you alright?” she broached. It was possible this was one of those needy mothers she had been thinking of, but judging by the fine quality of her clothing it was doubtful. She did appear to be in distress, though, so it would have been rude to just ignore her and pass into the store.

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A nearby voice brought her out of her reverie, and Morgana looked up, finding herself looking into a familiar face. It took her a moment to drag the name out of her memory, but as she finally found it she straightened up, giving the other woman a weak smile. "I'm fine." She said, pushing her hair out of her eyes, and glancing down. She had to do a double take as she caught site of Marian's stomach.

"I... wow - I see congratulations are in order." Morgana smiled, a real smile, the first real smile since she had arrived back in Tintagel. It was the smile of one mother to another soon-to-be-mother, a smile that remembered the joys of pregnancy, and the joys of motherhood that were still to come for Marian. The smile faltered only for a second as she felt a pang of longing for her own child, but she brushed the feelings aside as she looked back to Marian. "Sorry - you may not remember me, I'm Morgana." She smiled. "I've been awa for a while..." She looked around with a small sigh.

"I was just trying to decide on some things for Mordred, to get the flat sorted for him before he joins me..." She sighed as she glanced in the shop and saw a rotating stand near the door, covered in plaques with children's names on. She really needed to make a decision on that one. The wrong decision and... well, Mordred's temper could get a little out of control sometimes.

"So, how soon are you expecting the new arrival?"

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Marian was surprised when the woman dropped her hands and looked at her. She remembered Morgana, that was certain; they had shared a tent for a whole summer, after all, and living in such close quarters with someone makes them quite hard to forget.

“Thank you,” Marian replied, placing her hands on her stomach and smiling radiantly. She was positively glowing. “Of course I remember you. A lot has passed since we spoke last, but I am not so forgetful.”

To be honest, that summer had been bittersweet. At the time, Marian had been worried she might not ever be able to bear children of her own, so while she enjoyed her time with Mordred, and cherished the little things like his laughter, his smell, it had also been painful to think that she might never experience such things again. Oh, how wonderfully wrong she had been.

“About eleven weeks remain, my doctor tells me,” she replied, her smiling fading somewhat to Morgana’s agitated state. “And how is Mordred? He’s such a beautiful child. How old is he now? About three?”

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"Baby brain not kicked in so badly for you then?" Morgana asked with a smile. "I could barely remember my own name, never mind all the other things I was always forgetting. The joys of pregnancy." She smiled knowingly at Marian.

Her smile faltered as Marian asked after her own son. Running a hand through her hair, she smiled awkwardly. "Well... erm..." She wondered how much of the truth she could reveal to Marian. She was friends with Merlin and Gwen after all. "He is almost three now, yes. But, erm... he's... an early developer. He's very... advanced for his age."

She thought about her son, how fast he had grown. He finally seemed to have settled and slowed down now, and she wondered if the spell she had placed on her unborn child during pregnancy to speed up the growth, the spell which had continued after his birth and made the three year old Mordred as grown and developed as a ten year old, was finally wearing off.

Gods, she hoped so.

She turned her attention back to Marian. "So you finally got that man of yours down the aisle?" She asked with a small smile. She glanced at her own ringless wedding finger, her engagement ring left in a jewellery box in her chambers in Camelot.

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“I guess not,” Marian replied, returning the smile. “Just another thing to look forward to, I suppose.” Laughing easily, she found that it was nice to speak with someone who knew exactly what she was experiencing, having gone through the whole process herself. None of Marian’s other friends had experienced the joys and pains of pregnancy and childbirth, so it was a bit of a relief to be around someone who understood.

Still, it was hard not to notice that Morgana wasn’t entirely comfortable with the subject of her own son. Marian had heard of the hardships children could face, though, if they were more intellectually advanced than their peers. It seemed a bit early yet to worry of such things, but what mother did not worry? “You must be very proud,” she said, but it seemed her companion was more interested in listening than talking.

“You could say that,” Marian said with a chuckle, “though it was far from what Ihad expected and planned when I was young.” That was an understatement. “Can I buy you some tea? I would not mind sitting for a moment, and company would be most appreciated.”

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"Proud?" Morgana gave a small smile as she thought of her intellegent, thoughtful son. "I didn't think it was possible to feel such pride over one small person. But... it's a little scary as well." She looked at Marian with a smile. "I think he's cleverer than I am, he's already worked out just what to say to get himself out of any kind of trouble." She smiled. "I've been told he'll be a heartbreaker." She said with a small laugh.

"These things rarely turn out the way we plan." Morgana replied with a knowing smile. "I certainly didn't expect things to turn out the way they have. I was supposed to have been swept away by a prince charming on a white steed, taking me off to be his beautiful, beloved queen. A big white wedding and a baby in the crib with nurses and nannies and governesses." A rueful look passed over Morgana's face. "Who would have thought things would turn out the way they have."

She smiled at Marian's suggestion. "Tea would be lovely. I can stop thinking about these awful plaques and Mordred's reaction if I got the wrong thing." She laughed. "And I imagine you could do with resting your feet and ankles! Lead the way."

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Marian couldn’t help but smile as well when Morgana spoke of Mordred. Even now, while the baby still grew within her, the expectant mother could feel such strong, all-encompassing love for him. She had never thought it possible to love someone she had never met, but love him she did, more than almost anyone else in the world, so she was sure that one day she too would speak with such pride. She could not see him being anything but amazing.

“Then I do pity the young girls of Camelot,” she laughed as well. “He will be sure to have his pick of them and those of all the neighbouring lands.”

The mirth she felt, though, quickly faded as Morgana continued to speak. Marian remembered hearing of her and the professor Cazaril, how in love they had been but how her guardian did not approve of the match. She could not exactly blame him, for he was a king and Morgana his ward while Cazaril was merely a lowly tutor, but that did not mean she had not been rooting for them. When both of them had vanished, Marian had assumed that they had done so together, but the tone Morgana used... whatever had happened she was clearly not happy. Frowning herself, she really wished to ask, but it was a conversation that would be much better had once they had their tea.

“Clearly there is no fooling you, as you have walked in my shoes and swollen ankles not that long ago,” Marian replied, plastering a smile back on her face. Turning, she led the other woman toward the food court. “Perhaps once we are settled you can tell me what I have yet to look forward to.” As well as why you have decided to return.

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"I am sure he will," Morgana smiled, "but I'm yet to decide if that's a good thing, or whether we should be preparing our armies and knights for battles and duels in defence of the honour of the maidens of neighboring lands." She rolled her eyes. "Let us hope he does not spend too much time learning the art of wooing from his uncle Arthur. I must find him a more suitable male role model as soon as possible." Morgana laughed, miming adding the task to a do list.

Following Marian towards the food court, she ushered the pregnant woman into a seat with a smile. "I'd be more than happy to fill you in with all the gory details if your sure you really want them." She laughed. "Let me get the tea and I'll tell you all you want to know." Leaving Marian to settle at the table, she headed for the nearest counter and ordered two cups of tea. Handing over some change, she took the two paper cups and managed to more or less hide the look of disgust at the lack of china, before heading back to the table and placing the two cups down.

"I do wish I had had someone who could have given me some idea of what motherhood would be like." She said, stirring sugar and milk into her own cup. "It's times like that you realise how much you miss having a mother." She said with a small, sad smile at Marian.

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“I see your point,” Marian laughed. “Perhaps a happy medium between heartthrob and saint can be achieved with proper guidance. My own son will certainly not lack in male role models, though I am also uncertain if this is a good thing.”

Robin was certainly a bit of a cad in his time, though surely he would not teach his son any wicked ways. Little John was older than the rest and had a family of is own, so looking up to him could hardly be a bad thing. Allan and Much, however, Marian was unsure of. As much as she loved them, she could only imagine the conflicting lessons they would individually try to teach her son.

Settling down at a table in the food court, she gave Morgana a grateful smile as the other woman offered to go get their drinks. Stretching her legs out, she let her mind wander a moment to just what it would be like once they returned home. She had written her father with the news of her pregnancy, and while a longer period than necessary passed he had eventually sent a return letter. He was looking forward to her return so they could mend their relationship properly, and so he could be part of his grandchild’s life. It was all she had hoped for.

Accepting the cup of tea when Morgana returned, Marian made note to pay her back sometime in the near future. Her own smile turned a bit wistful as the other woman spoke of not having a mother. “I never knew my mother enough to miss her, but I do know what you mean. Nurses are helpful but far too technical. It is far from the same.”