In the first draft of this story, I had planned to kill Aurora off for a long while. The idea came to me before I even finished writing for season one, but I could never decide how I was going to go about it. Initially I had childbirth as the cause of death, but that was too expected as I made that being Arthur's biggest fear so prevalent in the story. Clarissa was an option, but screw her. Natural causes was another, but no one dies of natural causes in this show. Unrealistic af. I went through different scenarios and eventually settled on a revenge killing on Mordred's part, even though it's not discussed here.

Anyone who has watched the show knows his girlfriend is executed as a result of an assassination attempt on Arthur, and that leaves Mordred furious. He rushes to Morgana's side of the war, turning against Arthur so quickly, and I thought that heated betrayal and fury could be fun to toy with. So, for context, Mordred slips an enchanted poultice beneath Aurora's pillow before he leaves the castle after escaping from the cells. Arthur took his love, now he's taking Arthur's. An eye for an eye, just as the show started. The whole chapter would've included more, such as the discovery of the poultice, but I kept it down to her death and Arthur's specifically (maybe the rest will come later if I'm ever in this angsty a mood again). This would've been a lot longer and A LOT better if I had the previous chapters to build off of, but this, more or less, is the watered down version of how Aurora would've died. All I knew is I didn't want Arthur to have the chance to say goodbye. ^-^

So, here's Aurora's death and I enjoyed every minute of it. This scenario WON'T happen in the rewrite.

𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐌, 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐈, amid a forest of thorns !

𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐌𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘 ascended the heart of Camelot after the unfortunate downfall of Sir Mordred, who was once revered as the greatest knight of all to many nestled in the city he once protected. They'd come to know the kind eyes of aqua and the compassionate heart beating within, and to know that such a dear friend had so quickly turned to foe, left the land both broken-hearted and fearful of what the future brought. Sir Mordred was not only a traitor to the crown, to the people, but one that escaped from his prison cell with the power of a dark sorcery that lingered in the atmosphere even still. It was something that could not be seen, but felt with the weight of a thousand ages, and it only seemed to grow heavier with each passing day.

Not even a trace of Mordred had been detected upon his escape, save for the cell door violently torn from its hinges that had been left in his wake, but it didn't take a scholar to place together where he could've gone to. Merlin knew, from the moment he'd seen the hatred and malice in the young sorcerer's eyes, that he'd disappeared into the shadows to Morgana's side. It was only a matter of time before Morgana learned the truth about his other name, the answer to the question she had been longing for, and her armies would soon be upon them. But he wasn't worried for himself. He was worried for the people of Camelot, his friends, and most of all, the royal family. In the past, he had only a king to fret about every hour of the day, but now he had a queen, a princess, and an infant prince to protect, too. Merlin knew Morgana would seek to destroy each and every one of them, anyone who stood in her way for the throne of Camelot. For them, he had to be ready for the storm that was heading their way.

Arthur knew something was brewing on the horizon, too. It had been for many years, but now the tempest was approaching its zenith, and he had to make sure his land, his people, and his family were still standing in its wake. The duties of a king were a burden to bear, but as always before, he bore them well. He'd been locked away from daybreak until eventide, preparing all he could for the oncoming war as best he could, even though it was something he wished to avoid. Perhaps it could've been avoided, if only he'd realized long ago that Morgana's actions were not her own. That her will had been extinguished, burned away by a sacred fire he knew next to nothing about, aside from what his wife had tried to explain. In truth, most of her words had fallen on deaf ears upon the realization that his sister could've been saved. His children could've know their aunt for the beautiful soul she was, and he couldn't believe he ever thought her to be capable of such atrocities on her own—he hated himself for it.

Aurora tried her hardest to assure him he wasn't at fault, that no one but Morgause played a hand in Morgana's fate, but that was something he couldn't accept. He'd known Morgana all his life—he should've known from the moment the two had revealed their conspiracy that something wasn't right. Though she had her moments of poor judgement and acting on a whim, Morgana would never jeopardize the lives of countless men, women, and children in exchange for Uther's life, and especially not for a crown. A person of that nature was far more cruel than Morgana could ever be by herself; only with the will of another holding her prisoner would she ever do such a thing.

If he'd come to the conclusion of something being wrong sooner, if he'd done his share of reading through Gaius's tomes, he would've stumbled across this Teine Diaga sooner and known. He would've dragged her to the Cauldron of Arianrhod kicking and screaming, damning his father's law against sorcery to hell if he'd known. But by the time his eyes had opened to the truth, it was too late. The magic's hold was too strong, and because of his ignorance, his sister was lost to him forever. His family was an enemy until final breath, and nothing he could ever do would change that. It was his fault, he hated himself, and it showed.

Lunafreya could sense the waves of negative emotions emanating from her father's entire being, and though she asked, Aurora wasn't sure how to explain such matters to their young child, who knew little about Morgana to begin with. Though the parents knew it was only a matter of time before the child's curiosity would seek out the answers elsewhere, they wanted nothing more than to shield her from the truth of the reality she would one day suffer through as Queen of Camelot. Until her destined time came to pass, they wanted her to live the life of a carefree child, but it seemed that fate always challenged their parenting choices when it wasn't welcomed. Aurora and Arthur wanted nothing more than to protect her, but perhaps her best protection would come from knowing the truth. That was something they struggled with almost daily, and the day ahead was of no difference.

"What are we going to do?" Aurora sighed in emotional exhaustion, gently bouncing a somnolent Rhodri in her arms. "First it was just questions about Mordred, but now she's asking about Morgana, and even you, and I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to tell her, Arthur."

No one in the land could've been more physically, mentally, and emotionally drained than the King of Camelot himself, and once glance spared his way could prove it. "What is she asking?"

"Why Mordred left, who Morgana is, and especially why her father is so sad all the time. She knows your smile doesn't match your eyes anymore, she knows Mordred and Morgana both have something to do with it, and she knows something's coming. She may not yet know what that something is, but she'll figure it out soon enough because she's smarter than any child her age has any right to be."

"She is your daughter," Arthur mumbles under his breath, heaving a sigh as his eyes closed to darkness. "She's still so young... I worry what burdening her with such things will do. I don't want her growing up the way I did. Either of them."

"I know that." She sighed, gently caressing the back of her son's head. "But her curiosity is going to lead her to the truth one way or another. Maybe we have a few years left before it does, but it will happen. And when she finds out, I want it to be from us, not from the records, from anyone else, or even from a godforsaken dream of the past like I learned of my sleeping curse. Us."

Her words gave him pause, despite how he wished to stand firm with keeping their child in the dark for as long as possible, and he knew she was right. "We can't tell her everything. Not right away. We'll ease into it, because... it's a lot. I can barely wrap my head around it myself, and I'm an adult, for the love of God."

"Tell me about it." Rhodri's breathing had slowed into rest. "Will this land ever catch a break?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but a knock on the door echoed throughout the chamber.

She huffed at the intrusion. "That was rhetorical."

A smile, just barely there, graced his lips as he shook his head. "Enter."

Through the newly opened door, Sir Leon was revealed to them, looking almost as sleep deprived as the King himself. "You're needed, Sire, in the council chambers."

"I'll be there in a moment."

With Leon's dismissal, husband and wife were left again in the silence of their chambers, with only the rustle of Arthur's movements to give sound. Aurora sighed through her nose, brows crinkled in a crushing anxiety that seemed to be a constant state over the past few days, for her kingdom, her children, and the burdened man that had devoted the rest of his life to her. Those anxieties were overwhelming, only chased away again by the spreading of a terrible pain spreading through her head like lightning. The worst of it was sharp and quick, but the aftershocks were slow and deep. Aurora harshly closed her eyes, for the pain was only prolonged by the presence of light, and she took a free hand to press against her forehead as the smallest of whimpers passed through rose petal lips. Arthur noticed; his gentle touch didn't seem to bring the comfort it always did in the past, and she thought that to be strange.

"Aurora? What is it?" Worry was evident in his tone, and given all upon his shoulders at present, being concerned about her was the last thing he needed. She knew that.

Groaning a bit, she did her best to shake off the nagging pain she'd been dealing with since Mordred's departure—it had caused more of a headache than she expected, and it only seemed to get worse with each passing day. "Nothing. Headache again, I guess."

"Are you taking the remedies Gaius is giving you?"

"First remedy of Gaius's that brings no aid." She shook her head, hesitantly opening her eyes to test the sensitivity to light. "It's nothing to be concerned about, I'm sure. Now, you've a council meeting to attend, so you shouldn't keep them waiting."

Reluctantly, he agreed. "Okay. I'll see you both later."

After parting with a gentle kiss on the head each, Arthur left the room, oblivious to what the day ahead would soon become. If he had known, though it would've changed nothing, perhaps he would've spared a parting glance, said I love you, or maybe he wouldn't have left at all.

With her pain subsiding into a dull ache for the time being, she sighed in temporary relief and shook the remnants of the burning flames from thought. Her pain became nothing but a distant memory as the door swung to an open, revealing the bright eyes of her small daughter, running with far more effort than necessary to reach her parents' room from her own. Aurora smiled at the sight of her winded child, ever the dramatic little princess as she all but fell to the floor.

"What are you doing, sweetheart?" She asked with a gentle laugh, which Lunafreya was quick to mirror.

"I wanna go on a picnic!" The child announced, her small fists pressed against her waist as she held her head high. "You, me, Odi, and Papa! Can we?!"

The hope in her eyes made the idea of telling her no almost impossible, for Aurora knew the young girl needed this sense of normalcy after all the last few weeks brought into her world. As her mother, surely it was her duty to ensure she received just that. "Well, Luna... your father's going to be stuck in council meetings throughout the afternoon." The disappointment and sadness in her eyes was like a newly sharpened dagger. "But if you want, it could just be the three of us."

The child's eyes lit up like the sun. "Really?!"

There was the luminous excitement any mother wished to see rise in their child, and it made her smile. "Of course."

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𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 𝐈𝐍 her chambers to detail the plans she'd made with her children rather than being cooped up on such a beautiful day, Aurora snuck away some food from the palace kitchens and with her two children in tow, they found a place somewhat close to the grounds that was shrouded in trees for the privacy they required. Lunafreya found herself a little on edge, for she noticed that none of her uncles were present as they would be in any other circumstance, but Aurora assured her that they didn't need armed guards as she was trained well enough with sword craft to fend off anyone that would unlikely come by. Though she was already well versed before she and Arthur were wed, he insisted on training her even more for the sake of her personal safety, until the craft was something he was confident she could do in her sleep. Upon hearing this, Lunafreya settled.

With a blanket spread out beneath her and an alert Rhodri sitting up on his own, both watched as Lunafreya danced around the grassy area without a care in the world. Whenever she twirled, her little brother let out the giggle that melted his parents' hearts the first time they'd heard it months ago, and that only spurred her on further. She'd made a game of sorts out of it, counting how many times she could make her brother laugh, and the sight of it all was so pure, Aurora lamented that Arthur was missing this. After all that had been weighing on his shoulders, she felt an afternoon like this would do him well. Perhaps they'd have to work out a way to do this again within the next few days, or even the next few weeks, just so that he could be there with them.

"Careful, Luna," Aurora warned as the child spun too quick for a little two long, causing her balance to be thrown off. "Spin any faster and you'll fly right off the Earth."

A mischievous twinkle lit up the child's eyes. "Really?"

Aurora recognized that look specifically as first belonging to her husband, and she both dreaded and anticipated the future hell this child would put her through should she take after him. "No, but you will get yourself hurt, so please restrain yourself." A sigh escaped her lips as she shook her head. "You truly are your father's child."

Lunafreya continued to giggle at her mother's reaction, soon after abandoning the dancing in order to chase after an iridescent-winged butterfly through the gentle breeze. The meadow in which they found solitude was enclosed by trees that stretched up further than the citadel's highest tower, and so due to the restrictive space, Lunafreya could not drift too far out of her sight. Aurora knew that they had been gone for a long while and that the time to return was nearby, but she almost didn't want to return home. Out here in beautiful isolation, which would only be complete with the presence of the fourth member of their family, they were free from the onerous life of Camelot's current state, and away from the looming threat a cursed Morgana brought solely by existing. Freedom was ephemeral for people like them. They were royals, and heavy was the head that wore the crown.

Again, as if the mere thought of reality were a trigger, the sweltering ache began to build up and spread through her skull. First it wasn't anything terrible, but with each breath that passed her by, the intensity continued to grow. Light became searing, and her eyes instinctively closed to shield herself from further pain. Their freedom was ephemeral, indeed. "Luna, sweetheart, can you come watch your brother while I pack everything up? Mama's not feeling well."

The child stopped in her tracks. "Is your head hurting again?"

"Yes."

Lunafreya didn't need an excuse to dote on her baby brother, and did her best to keep him occupied while Aurora began to pack away the empty plates and remnants of food back into the basket, but she didn't get very far before something began to feel very wrong.

Ever since the headaches first began, the pain that came with would only ever reach a certain limit. Once it peaked, that's where it remained until the pain began to dwindle into aftershocks, but not this time. A white hot agony she believed surpassed that of the sleeping curse started behind the eyes and spread as far as it could go, like that same liquid fire, covering every possible inch. A sharp gasp escaped her lips as a hand came to rest against her head, and the sound of shattering glass echoed throughout the clearing as one of the plates in hand dropped to the ground, colliding with the rest of the pile, killing the mid afternoon silence with a clap of violence.

The sudden sound made little Lunafreya jump in fright, eyes wide as the moon she was named for as her gaze shifted her mother's way. Of course she'd seen expressions of pain before, from herself and others, but none that reached the magnitude she was currently witnessing, and she was terrified. "Mama! Mama, what's wrong?!"

Though she wanted to respond to her daughter and assure her that everything would be alright, but she was so hindered by the terrifying affliction that was going on inside her head, she could hardly spare a second to breathe. The pressure and flames were building and building, and like the volcanoes she'd read much about but had never seen, a violent eruption coursed through her entire body at a miserable pace. Numbness took its place, darkness was soon to follow, and she collapsed on fragments of broken porcelain.

Silence enclosed around Lunafreya and Rhodri like a cage, and the oldest of the two rushed to her mother's side after the initial panic-induced shock began to wear thin. "Mama! Mama!" Her chubby arms reached out to try and shake her mother awake, just as she'd woken her up in the morning for as long as she could remember, but she didn't stir. "Mama, wake up! Mama!"

The young girl tried and tried, but her mother's form remained lifeless and still. As if the infant could feel the shift in the once joyful atmosphere, a shrill cry was set free on the wind and carried throughout every corner of the empty clearing. Lunafreya shed tears of her own, for the two young children were left alone and lost, and she hadn't a clue how to get back home.

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𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 gone, and Arthur Pendragon knew something wasn't right.

When the pastel hues of the day's end began to bleed away into something more intense, colors that could only be equated to crimson blood and raging flames, a quad of Camelot's finest accompanied their king on his search for his missing family. While it was known they were out for a day of freedom and exploration, while no worry was needed in the beginning, all caution was scattered to the winds once the skies began to darken and not a trace of them was found. Though the largest portion of Arthur believed they were free from harm's way, that perhaps time had just slipped away from Aurora's mind, it wasn't a feeling he could undoubtedly trust given the events of the past few months and all the misfortune it inflicted.

Sunset painted their path through vivacious foliage and barren branches, but in that warm light, there were no visible signs of life. The sound of chirping birds and a rustling in the trees from high up could be heard from all around, and the sounds of nature were welcome over the deafening sounds of silence that likely would've made Arthur feel so much worse. Since he was young, he always equated silence to an omen, for it always proved to be an impending doom of sorts and often left him uneasy. The calm of nature and the music birdsong gave him a sense of peace, like a blanket of comfort that he didn't truly appreciate until he met his wife, and so he took that as a sign that everything was alright. How wrong he was.

It started off small, but the further their feet carried them, the louder it grew. A cry reaching the skies, vast and wide, and it was one he would recognize anywhere. Like the midwinter's ice, his blood ran cold. In a flash, he willed his feet to fly and rushed through the trees, following the sound of his son's voice with a sharp ear. The sound of his heart beating like a drum in his hears drowned out the sound of his men following in suit. Branches hit and nicked him as he ran like the wind, but he didn't stop until he made it through the last line of trees, into yet another one of Camelot's woodland clearings.

"Papa!" Lunafreya's voice cried out, thick with panic and tears, and she began to rush over to him with her wailing little brother in her arms. Arthur met them halfway, dropping to his knees and bringing them into his arms.

A weight felt as if it had been lifted. "Are you alright? Where's your mother?"

"Papa, Mama fell asleep and I can't wake her up!"

His heart was one made of glass, one he swore began to chip away upon seeing her lying there.

Arthur left the security of his children to Merlin, urging him to take them somewhere so they wouldn't have to see their mother in her current state, not until he could wake her. Immediately after, he rushed across the open meadow and right to her side, nearly falling on his face when he finally reached her. Minimal droplets of blood were found, drawn from small cuts caused from remnants of broken plates, but he couldn't detect anything else superficially wrong with her. She truly appeared to have fallen asleep, and nothing more.

"Aurora?" Lifting her up and away from the shattered porcelain, it was his turn to try and shake her awake with a little more power than a young child was capable of, but she remained still. "Aurora, my love, you need to wake up."

The King's heart jumped to his throat from her lack of response, and it wasn't until he considered that did he realize just how cold she felt, just how still she truly was—it was the kind of quiescence she couldn't possibly achieve in her sleep. The truth lingered in the air, but he couldn't accept it.

His voice grew more forceful, more desperate. "Aurora, we have to take our children home. Wake up."

Even still, the only signs of life had come from the woodland around them in the bristling of the wind through trees, and the gentle song of various birds. The earth was awake and alive, but his dawn was anything but. Souls of the damned screamed in his ears, speaking words he'd sooner cast into Hades with those cursed voices forevermore, but only because he knew their laments were true.

Willing the dirge of the dead away, his hands trembled like a violent tempest storming the high seas as his gloved fingers searched for a pulse, even the smallest flutter of a sign of life, and a pain unlike any he'd ever known ruptured every inch of his spirit upon finding nothing but cold flesh and stillness.

No.

A thunderstorm far greater than the world had ever seen raged behind his eyes, its rainfall filling his lungs to the point where he couldn't breathe, his body grew numb with grief. Whatever resolve he had to conceal the horde of emotions stirring inside like a hurricane began to chip away, and all was left to fall freely.  It felt as if he'd turned into stone, and he was left to sink into the depths of an oceanic abyss of ice, with no hope.

Before he opened his eyes, so very new to the world she was meant to show him, he lost his mother.

When an enchantress's vile curse stole her spirit away, though breath still remained in her lungs, Arthur lost his sister.

Days after his birthday, all because he mistakenly placed his trust in a sorcerer that had sworn to save his life, he lost his father.

Now here, beneath the sunset they should've been admiring together in the safety of the home they prayed on many starry nights to have, he lost his wife, and he wasn't even able to say goodbye.

Arthur Pendragon thought he'd known darkness, thought he'd known loss and mourning, but nothing ever before felt quite like this. The glass heart caged beneath ivory bones splintered into countless pieces, the shards piercing his lungs and chest, and breath was scarce. The vibrantly colored soul entrapped by muscle and sinew began to fade, the shades of red, purple, and blue blanching away into translucence. This was darkness, this was loss, this was how it felt for half of one's heart and soul to die.

Once upon a time, he'd referred to her as a rose amid the skein of thorns that was love; she was a thing of glorious beauty and endless joy. He had been blessed with the privilege to watch her blossom from a seamstress to a princess, to watch her bloom from a princess to not only a queen, but his wife. The petals were her mind, heart, soul, and all were more beautiful than any precious stone the earth could forge, and she shared that beauty with the world. But just as all things with time, death had stolen that beauty away like a thief in the darkest night.

Roses bloom, roses wither, and though it was no flower, what was left of his broken soul began to wilt into decay.

This trash is dedicated entirely to thefangirlofhp and vividparacosm because I know they would hate it. x

Gasp this is might the last time I'll ever write about Lunafreya and Rhodri Pendragon rip