ten years later

the start of her life

For her past sixteen birthdays, Ambrose had woken with excitement bubbling in her stomach, and she had always jumped out of bed and raced to her constantly changing dining room, ready to spend a whole day with Nicholas, who was quite often busy. Every year, on the fourth of August, the two would go on a new adventure of sorts. Nicholas had always obliged to her requests, even when he thought that they weren't spectacular ideas.

There had been a year – her eleventh birthday – when she had diligently asked to go visit her old farm, and her parents' graves.

It had been hard for Ambrose, who had not truly realised the full impact her parents deaths had on her, and she had spent the rest of the day locked up in her room, bawling her eyes out, clutching her broken heart. Nicholas knew that the topic of Mauryne and Edmund Littleray's deaths was not something that he would ever talk about with Ambrose.

Despite this, Ambrose proved to be one of the most intelligent young girls that Nicholas had ever had the chance of encountering. Sure, she had her flaws – she was a little bit headstrong, tended to jump right into situations, and made irrational decisions, but when she had her mind set to an idea, she would always work as hard as she could.

However, on the morning of her seventeenth birthday, Ambrose felt as if all the butterflies that were in her stomach had been brutally murdered. She hadn't slept – she never needed to – but she felt as if she had been in her bed for days. Her arms felt like lead, and she couldn't even feel her legs.

Next to her, on a table that seemed too old for its own good, laid her towering pile of books and parchments that Nicholas had used to teach her everything she knew. After a quick visit to all of the magical schools in the world – an experience that was extremely eye opening to Ambrose – Nicholas had taken books from the Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Castelobruxo curriculums.

He had even continued her education in the French language, forcing her to read the books in French without a Translation Spell.

Ambrose didn't mind – the French language was something that would never truly leave her. It was too ingrained in her soul.

Ambrose sighed, defeated, and heaved herself up. The house seemed to match her mood. In all of the past years, Ambrose had always enjoyed planning out how the house would look like, and she usually got creative with her use of colours. Today, however, the house was a bleak reminder of what was coming. Nearly everything was sombre, and muted of any colour.

As Ambrose trotted through the halls, dragging her fingers on the walls, she couldn't help but admire how Nicholas had truly kept every memory they had created together. Every New Year, Ambrose and Nicholas would paint portraits of each other. It was an on-going joke between the two, because Nicholas never truly aged, but it was always nice to see how their painting skills had progressed throughout the years, and although Ambrose had always claimed that her paintings were much better, Nicholas had incredible skill when it came to art.

As Ambrose arrived to the dining room, she stopped and leaned against the doorway. Nicholas – as he did every year – was simply absorbing Ambrose's creation. When he spotted her, he smiled softly.

"Not too keen on leaving, are you?" He chuckled.

"Not particularly, no," Ambrose smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I suppose you'll be quite happy to get rid of me." Nicholas raised his eyebrows in shock.

"Ah, yes. I do admit that letting someone who has practically become my daughter go into the real world will make me a real ray of sunshine." Ambrose winced.

"I... I didn't mean it that way." She said, turning to enter the dining room. Nicholas simply smiled again.

"I know you didn't," Ambrose could feel the tears in her eyes, but refused to let them drop. "Don't, Rosie. You know we'll see each other again."

"I know that," Ambrose huffed, and wiped at her eyes. "Let's just take a look at my assignment." Nicholas motioned for her to take a seat at the table. He already had a Pensieve ready for her.

"Her name is Morgan. Morgan le Fey." Ambrose nodded, and plunged her head into the oval basin.

◦

"Morgan!" yelled a shrill voice.

Ambrose looked for the source, but could not locate it. She saw, however, a young girl, sitting on a windowsill, looking out to the endless night.

"Morgan! How dare you poison Balthazar's toad! Come downstairs, young lady!" A different voice screamed this time, sounding a lot more masculine. Hatred seemed to seethe from this man's voice.

Morgan, however, simply giggled. She turned around and looked straight past Ambrose. Ambrose was surprised at what she saw. Morgan had soft features – her upturned noise crinkled delightedly when she continued to giggle, and the dimples in her cheek radiated innocence. However, Ambrose could tell that Morgan was quite the opposite of innocent. Her eyes were bottomless pits, and her hair that cascaded around her shoulders seemed to radiate power, even at such a young age.

What shocked Ambrose so much was the thin scar Morgan had on her left cheek. It had healed horribly, and it contorted her face to make her seem older, and almost more evil. This scar was a clear proof of abuse and neglect, yet Morgan seemed hardly affected.

The voice downstairs continued to screech, but Morgan ignored it again, and twirled around in her tower made of stone.

The scene changed again, and Ambrose was taken to a sight that was very familiar. She was at Hogwarts, and the sorting had just begun. Behind the chair with the newly sewn Sorting Hat, sat three of the four founders. Ambrose marvelled at the scene before her, and noticed that the Sorting Ceremony was about to begin.

Helga Hufflepuff burst through the front doors, smiling amiably at the students. Behind her, a crowd of nervous-looking first years entered the hall, fidgeting under the gaze of the older ones around them. Helga smiled again, and handed a list of students to Rowena Ravenclaw. Rowena cleared her throat and began to read the names.

"Ambrosius, Merlin!" Ambrose gasped out of shock as she saw an eleven-year-old Merlin swagger confidently to the stool, where Rowena placed the Hat on his head.

Ambrose's mind raced as she digested this information. She knew who Merlin was, of course, but had no idea that he had gone to Hogwarts with Morgan. She scanned the crowd and spotted a very annoyed-looking Morgan, staring straight at Merlin. Her scar that twisted her face made her look angrier. Ambrose assumed that the two had previously met.

Before she knew it, Merlin was placed into Slytherin, and the table that glinted silver and green cheered for him. As Merlin gracefully stood up and took his place at the table, Ambrose couldn't help but smile. She had never taken interest to any of the Hogwarts houses personally, but she knew that Slytherin had a talented bunch of young wizards, and she appreciated the house's qualities. Ambrose turned to the front again, and was surprised at how quickly the students were getting sorted. Ambrose watched with amusement as "Greengrass, Waleran!" got sorted into Gryffindor, and "Hobday, Agnes!" into Hufflepuff.

"Le Fay, Morgan!" Rowena declared, and Ambrose approached the stool with interest. Some of the students whispered amongst each other about Morgan's scar, but the chitchat quietened down as Rowena shot a look at them.

"Hmmm..." a voice echoed in Ambrose's mind, and by the looks of it, it was the Sorting Hat. "You're troubled. Frustrated. And a little bit confused, my dear child."

"I am not!" Morgan's voice reverberated in Ambrose's mind. The Sorting Hat chuckled.

"Whatever you say, Morgan le Fay. I have a feeling that you're destined to some power."

"Only some?" Her eerie voice demanded. Ambrose began to dislike Morgan more and more. However, the Sorting Hat merely chuckled again.

"Well, I see two clear options for you. You would strive in either one," the Sorting Hat paused. "Slytherin fits your ambitions and your wit, and you could create wonderful friendships there, too. You could go places with Slytherin, Morgan –"

"I don't want to be in the same house as him!" She retorted, and the Sorting Hat knew she meant Merlin.

"... I see... Well, Morgan, I think I've made my decision. I believe that relationships may change... I'm not going to put you in a different house just because you don't like someone... SLYTHERIN!"

Morgan's shocked face faded away from her and Ambrose got flashes of what happened next – the rivalry between Merlin and Morgan only seemed to increase when the two continuously tied for top of their year, and Ambrose watched as the two got elected as Prefects, and later, Head Boy and Girl.

Despite getting only mere flashes of what happened, Ambrose could see why the world preferred Merlin Ambrosius. Morgan – however much she tried, could never be on Merlin's level. It was almost as if they were playing a game of cat and mouse, and Merlin was the mouse that slipped from Morgan's paws every time she got close.

When the two graduated from Hogwarts, Merlin was automatically offered many jobs at the Ministry. He became the youngest Senior Undersecretary of the Minister of Magic, which was an incredible feat.

Morgan, however, had less. She grew into a beautiful woman, but her magic turned Dark very quickly when she realised that Merlin would always be two steps ahead of her.

Ambrose watched with forlorn sadness as Morgan's magic grew darker and darker, until she was alone and continuously angry at everyone for not agreeing with her.

Ambrose knew that her time in Morgan's life was coming to a close. She looked at the face she knew she would be seeing again, and pulled herself out of the Pensieve.

◦

Ambrose massaged her forehead as she was pulled back to the present. Nicholas was observing her, waiting for her reaction.

She simply watched the glistening memories swirl in the Pensieve, and wondered why a beautiful girl like Morgan would throw away her life like she had.

"That was... interesting." Ambrose picked her words carefully, unsure of what Nicholas was going to ask of her.

"She's quite a curious character, yes." Ambrose leaned back on her chair, feeling twice as old as she really was. It was at times like these that Ambrose wished her family had gone onto the ship. She wished that the wizards who caused the storm had been less foolish. She wished that she were still back at the Littleray farm, cuddling Wilma and chasing after Patton. She wished that she had been allowed to have a normal childhood – with parents, friends, and even, eventually, partners. One where she was allowed to love, cry, laugh, run, and talk as much as she wanted.

She envied everyone that was still alive. She envied Merlin, and Morgan. For they had been through something she was robbed of when she was merely four years old: life. Ambrose loved Nicholas with all of her heart, and she had come to realise that he only wanted to protect and save her – for what reason, she still did not know – and that together, they were going to help the wizarding world.

She sighed. Life was hard, but death was so much harder.

"Well, what am I going to have to do?" She asked, with a new hope in her voice. Nicholas smiled.

"I'm glad that you asked," he stood up, and stretched. "Merlin is destined to defeat Morgan in a very... gruesome duel," Ambrose raised an eyebrow. "I told you I get glimpses of the future when I need them. Now, we're not going to tamper with that – meaning you won't have to fight Morgan or anything, but you'll have to somehow make sure that the two meet and that they are both ready."

"Wait a minute... If they're already destined to go into the duel, why do I have to step in?" Nicholas suddenly looked extremely uncomfortable. "What aren't you telling me?" She pressed.

"Rosie – I –"

"Just tell me, Nicholas. I'm going to have to do this either way."

"Well..." Nicholas gulped, still looking uncomfortable. "It is unwise for me to tell you the full truth, so I will stick to the vague basics..." He trailed off, and took a deep breath. "You see, Rosie, humans – they're not like you and I. They do not always understand everything – they're emotional creatures, capable of love... and hate." Ambrose frowned slightly, but did not comment. "They're a beautiful race, humans are... Such complex characters... Anyways – after Merlin has his, ah, altercation with Morgan, I believe that he – he might tip his scales."

"Tip his scales? Nicholas, I don't understand."

"I'm scared that Merlin might become a dark wizard – having defeated Morgan, he will become egotistical and – well, Rosie, it is our job to protect the frail lives of those around us." Ambrose opened her mouth to talk, but Nicholas held up his hand, looking weary. "However, Rosie, I also happen to believe that humans have something beautiful – something past the mere act of living. It is love. The same love that your parents had for each other and for you." He paused to let Ambrose have a moment for herself.

"You, Rosie, have to be the one to show Merlin Ambrosius what it is like to be a human again."

◦

hello it's me guYS WE HIT 800 READS WHAT AN ACCOMPLISHMENT!!!! i never thought i'd make it but YOU GUYS ARE ALL HERE!!! welcome to the party - we have party hats, cookies, and books!!!! thnx for reading everyone i love you all.

i hope you guys enjoyed this chapter because once i saw that i had !!!800 READS!!! i typed it all up and omg it's hella long and i'm sorry for the massive time jump and AMBROSE IS FINALLY GOING BACK TO THE REAL WORLD and MERLIN IS WHAT and MORGAN AND MERLIN SHOULD'VE TOTALLY DATED WTF and OMG EMOTIONS!!!!!!!!!JFDALFJDKALSFJKADSFJD

alright much love have a lovely weekend 

love x 800, clara

p.s: yes that's a gif of katie mcgrath who plays morgan in the series Merlin ok i just thought she was perfect for the character