Author: bittasummer PM
Oneshot. AU companion vignettes to series one. [He doesn't realize that every step away from her is another step towards the path she never wanted to go down.] Merlin/Morgana.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Angst - Merlin & Morgana - Words: 11,349 - Reviews: 5 - Favs: 14 - Follows: 2 - Published: 11-12-12 - Status: Complete - id: 8696834
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: Merlin/Morgana. AU companion vignettes to series one. Rated T for profanity, minor mentions of violence and implied scenes of a sexual nature.
inspiration\\blinding by florence and the machine
no more dreaming of the dead as if death itself was undone
no more calling like a crow for a boy, for a body in the garden
the dragon's call
Morgana is still unaware that her first meeting with Merlin was not his first meeting with her. To him, he met her for the first time as he walked into her chambers with the intent of giving her Gaius' sleeping draught. He'd heard stories about the Lady Morgana. She was the most beautiful woman in all the land. Some said she was kind and wise, and others said she was full of childish joy. The warmth of her voice as he heard it with something that soothed him inside.
She was beautiful no doubt, but the moment he clapped his eyes on her he knew there was something different about her. Something he could... understand. To her, they met for the first time at the festival celebrating twenty years without magic in Camelot. She bedazzled all, especially him and she wasn't blind to the way the young servant's eyes followed her around all that night.
He was stumbling over his feet all night but he still found time for his eyes to glaze over her skin. It shouldn't have thrilled her, really, because she was Lady Morgana, the King's ward and she was used to this. But there was something about Merlin that she couldn't put her finger on. He was similar to her in a way that should have been inconceivable.
She hadn't spoken to him at all, she hadn't interacted with him, but there was something about the glint in his eyes that was so familiar. They were alike and she wondered how that could possibly be. She danced with some of the Knights, mingled with the guests and tried not to feel annoyed by Uther's unjust and cruel attitude. Killing a man in spite of magic and causing a mother grievous pain.
The smile was barely able to grace her lips the entire night. It was half way through the festival when Arthur approached her by the buffet table where Gwen was accompanying her. He had a rugged smirk on his lips and an expression that was one of mockery and smugness.
It grated her, the way he always looked like that, but she was usually always able to reciprocate his wit. Her eyes glided over to Arthur's right and she came face to face with Merlin, the servant that had caught her eye earlier. He had wandered over beside Gwen. He was handsome, with raven dark hair and warm gold eyes.
"Morgana," Arthur greeted her, "There's nothing more pathetic than when a Lady of Camelot is forced to spend the evening with her maid, because not one single Knight or Sir will permit her company."
Morgana smirked back, "In my opinion, there's nothing more pathetic than when a Prince of Camelot is forced to hire his friends in order to have any," her gaze drifted back to Merlin and he boldly did what no servant did; he looked her straight in the eye, only for a moment or so, before looking away.
"Merlin is not my friend," Arthur growled under his breath. Well then. Apparently Merlin and Arthur had already met.
She said to Merlin, "We've not been introduced. I'm Morgana."
"I'm Merlin, milady," he lowered his gaze in a sign of respect.
"You're not from around here Merlin, are you?" Morgana lifted her goblet to her lips and watched as Merlin's eyes followed the movement of her neck as she swallowed and the dart of her tongue as it licked the liquid from her blood red lips.
"No, milady," he shook his head, "I'm from a small outlying village in Ealdor."
"What brought you here?" Morgana picked up a nearby grape from the table and held it to her lips. She smiled, unable to tame her flirtatious nature even at the best of times. Merlin was temporarily distracted by the movement of the grape as she ran it across her lips.
"I'm Gaius' ward," Merlin eventually replied.
Arthur had grown bored with this conversation. "Come along, Merlin, I'm sure I can find some chores for you to do," he grabbed boy's arm and pulled him away.
"Goodbye, Merlin," Morgana called out, smiling.
"Goodbye," Merlin turned his head round to glimpse the dark haired beauty one more time, almost breathless, "Milady."
Morgana bit her lip, glancing downwards to catch Gwen staring at her. "What?" Morgana questioned lightly.
"Oh nothing," Gwen shook her head softly, her gaze following Morgana's to where Merlin was still being dragged away by Arthur. "Nothing at all."
"Don't look so enthralled, Merlin," Arthur muttered to his soon to be servant annoyedly, "She charms everyone."
Merlin didn't stop smiling for the rest of the night.
Knight Valiant immediately irritates Merlin. It's not his swarmy good looks or the way that he swaggers around like he owns the place either. It's the way that everyone seems to be utterly taken by him. He notices Morgana in the hall with Gwen, watching as Valiant greets the King. She smiles slightly, examining the foreign Knight and then preceding to giggle with Gwen.
It just grates him, that a woman of her standing can be so oblivious to his obvious faults. Just after Merlin has made a fool of himself by telling Arthur about the live snakes on Valiant's enchanted shield, he bumps into Morgana as they pass in the hall. She is looking as radiant as ever and he can't help but run his hand through his hair. Her beauty still manages to take him back every time he sees her.
"Merlin," she says lightly, "I heard what you said about Valiant."
"It's true," he replies and he hopes desperately that she believes him.
"He doesn't look like a sorcerer," Morgana takes a step towards him.
"They all look different," he breathes. Then he asks, "Do you believe me?"
Morgana takes a moment to ponder, her gaze averted at the ground. She doesn't like talking about the subject of magic, because Uther has always taught her that it's a force of evil and all that contain it are corrupted. But there is an honesty in Merlin's eyes that she can't ignore and she leans in to whisper, "Yes."
"Good," Merlin breathes a sigh of relief. "I was worried you were... taken by him," it meant to sound differently but it doesn't. He sounds jealous and he's sure that Morgana hasn't missed it either.
"Worried?" her smile is surprisingly light.
Merlin splutters, "I just mean..."
"Thank you, Merlin," Morgana pulls back suddenly because a couple of guards have rounded the corner. "Please take care of Arthur."
"I'll try," Merlin nods back and starts off down the hallway. Morgana watches him as he goes.
the mark of nimueh
She rushes to him and Gaius because she just knows that he'll save Gwen from being falsely executed. Gwen is her maid, the only friend she's ever had and she can't let her die. Merlin is surprised by her forcefulness and he admires her bravery. She demands to be taken along with him and Arthur as they search for the Afanc and while he doesn't doubt that she can handle herself, he does worry.
He thinks they're almost done for, and he almost doesn't use his magic but he has to. He has to save them, because apparently he's got some big destiny with Arthur to fulfil. Honestly, he's getting sick of hearing about that. He almost thinks that Morgana saw him use his magic and he is torn by a range of emotions; from fear to joy to relief, but he is mistaken and he feels alone again.
She visits him once Gwen is freed and everything is right again. Gaius tells her he's in his room and that he probably needs rest but she goes ahead anyway and knocks. He tells her to come in, thinking it's Gaius and she sees him lounging on his bed, his limbs askew. He jumps up when he sees her, shocked.
"Milady," he rubs his knees furiously. "Uh, I wasn't expecting—"
"I'm sorry I didn't wait til morning," she interrupts him, "I just... I needed to say thanks. You have no idea how important Gwen is to me. She's... She's like my sister."
"No problem," Merlin replies, smiling. "I'm sorry this isn't more accommodating."
Morgana looks around his quaint room, amused, "Don't be silly, I like it. It's very... Merlin."
"Very Merlin?" he likes the sound of his name on her lips. "Well, thanks."
She looks restless, rubbing her fingers together. She shouldn't even be here, she knows, but there's a pull towards Merlin and she's felt it since she first laid eyes on him. Maybe it's that she almost lost Gwen, or that she's been more even more isolated lately, but she wants to connect to someone and Merlin doesn't seem like he abhors her company either.
"Milady," Merlin starts.
"Don't call me that, Merlin," she says warmly.
"Morgana," he starts again. "Is everything alright?"
She breathes out deeply and then says, "I fear my nightmares. Sometimes they haunt me and other times they leave me."
"You've not had any in a while?" Merlin asks.
"No," she shakes her head, her dark tresses moving with the motion. "But they always return. Always."
"Would you like to sit?" Merlin offers.
Morgana moves across his room and perches on the end of his bed.
"Whenever you need to talk to someone," he whispers, "I'm always here."
"Thank you Merlin," she whispers back.
They talk idly for a little while after that and then Morgana retreats to her room. As she lies in her bed, she can't stop thinking about the raven haired servant and his adorable smile. As Merlin drifts to sleep, he can't help but think about the beautiful Lady who was just with him.
He knows it started at the festival, he just doesn't know when it will stop.
the poisoned chalice
She sneaks in to see him when Gwen is doing her chores and Gaius is resting. He looks so ill and it pains her so much. He is so kind, always stumbling over his own feet and trying to smile even though he doesn't want to. She notices his usual clumsiness and is surprised to find it adorable.
So she sits at his bedside and pats a cold cloth over his face, telling him that he has to wake up because she needs to see his goofy grin again. Just one more time, just one more moment where she can look at him openly and not have to hide her curiosity. She lays down beside him, stroking her fingers through his hair and pressing a gentle kiss on his temple.
She murmurs to him her life story. How her father was killed when she was ten and her mother disappeared shortly after that. How she felt abandoned and alone; lost and scared, under the thumb of a tyrant. Under the care of a King who walked in arrogance and practiced strict and cruel ways. She told him about growing up with Arthur, trying to fit in but never quite getting there.
She whispers to him her years of isolation and loneliness and told him that she felt a kindred spirit with him. It was remarkable. She had only known Merlin a little over a month now and she had never felt a trust for anyone as she had felt it for him. She told him nearly everything about her; how she was scared that Uther didn't truly care for her; that she was always just a burden to him.
She even cried into his chest, clung to his shirt and begged him to wake up. It was only when Gaius returned that she wiped her tears and straightened up. She left the room, feeling wonder struck and confused. She had never bared her soul to anyone and yet with Merlin on the brink of death, she felt like she was bargaining for his life with her words of truth.
When he is cured, he finds her by the gardens, picking rosemary. She doesn't see him for the longest of moments, until he finally clears his throat and catches her attention.
"Merlin," she can't fight the smile on her face. "Gaius said you were cured."
"I am..." he takes a step towards her, "I..." he trails off.
"Merlin, whatever's the matter?" Morgana abandons her rosemary.
Merlin looks away and then back up to her face. "I think... I think I heard you while I was unconscious."
Morgana's heart speeds up. Oh no. Did he hear everything she said?
"I just wanted to say thank you," he adds quickly, "For keeping me company and looking after me," and then he turns on his heel and walks away. If he had stayed, he didn't know what he would have said. He heard everything, her life, her longings and her cries for him to wake. It shook him to the core and he still doesn't know how to handle it.
There's two sides of the spectrum, really. He's elated, overjoyed, enthralled, but on the other side, he knows that nothing will ever happen between them. It can't. He's the Prince's servant and she's the King's Ward. And he has a destiny to fulfill. He can't ever forget that.
Morgana bites her lip. She really has to stop wearing her heart on her sleeve.
The celebrations for Lancelot's knighthood are in full swing. Gwen accompanies Morgana, as always and they stand together by the buffet table. Morgana can barely handle these events. Arthur swaggers around and Uther mingles with his guests and everything seems... rather fake. Everyone is smiling, but most of the guests loathe Uther and he them. Morgana can see it in their eyes. They're not oblivious to Uther's past crimes and misdeeds.
Gwen can't take her eyes from Lancelot and Morgana smiles to herself. She knows infatuation when she sees it. In fact, she's known infatuation first hand. It's not something she's foreign to, all she has to do is glance across the hall and see Merlin's gold eyes. Amber, yellow, speckled, warm. So inviting, so delicate, so mysterious. A knot tightens in her stomach and she realizes that the feeling is entirely mutual.
"Don't fret, Morgana," Arthur strolls over to her, "If you can't make Lancelot want you, perhaps there's always hope in Cenred's kingdom," a hearty chuckle rumbles in his stomach. Morgana raises an elegant eyebrow. Cenred's kingdom is full of brutes, bastards and pricks. Where Camelot is warm and strong, Cenred's kingdom is gritty and cold. Sometimes he makes Uther's rule look like a warm bath.
"Come now Arthur," Morgana replies, "It's not like you to be jealous." At some point, Merlin has wandered his way over to them, casually tidying the buffet table in an attempt to look subtle. Morgana practically hears Gwen snort.
"Morgana," Arthur drawls, "I couldn't be jealous of him if I tried. Although, Lancelot does seem rather taken by someone. You wouldn't have anything to do with that, would you?"
Merlin's head whips up and Gwen holds her breath.
"Of course not," Morgana manages to keep her gaze away from Gwen. She'll have to remember to get the juicy details from her handmaiden later.
"Just remember, Morgana," Arthur is already walking away, "My father would cut off the manhood of any Knight, warrior or Sir that tried to get so much as a kiss from your lips. But you won't have to worry about that. Once they see your personality, kissing you will be the last thing on their minds."
He didn't mention servants, a sly voice from the back of Morgana's mind whispered.
Gwen laughed slightly, "You two... always fighting like brother and sister. How will you ever become Queen one day?"
Morgana snorted, "To Arthur? Gwen, you must have your sanity checked. I will never marry Arthur Pendragon."
"There is hope yet," Gwen murmured back. Then she said, "Why are you grinning from ear to ear, Merlin?"
Morgana spun around, catching the sight of Arthur's sheepish looking manservant.
"No reason," Merlin spluttered, "Just... happy for Lancelot."
"Yes, this is a proud day," Gwen agreed.
"If you will both excuse me," Morgana said, a sharp pain entering her head. She turned and headed for the doors, ignoring Uther's imploring question as to her exit and stepping out into the hallway. So much quieter out there. Peaceful.
She wandered over to the window, gazing out at the dark sky and seeing the bright stars. She'd been getting headaches for a week and she thought it had something to do with her on and off nightmares.
"Enjoying the celebrations?" Merlin's voice follows her down the hallway. Morgana instantly smiled, seeing him stride over to her. He fascinated her, especially his body. So lanky and tall and all limbs. It was a wonder he was able to keep himself from falling most of the time.
"Merlin, shouldn't you be running around after Arthur?" she replies, "It's a wonder you can still put up with him. He's never had a servant this long."
"What can I say?" Merlin shrugs back, "I'm a very versatile servant."
"You're more than a servant," she says warmly, "Much more."
"If only you knew..." he murmurs to himself.
"Sorry?" she tilts her head.
"Nothing," he rubs the back of his head. "Absolutely nothing."
"You amuse me, Merlin," she admits. "I feel... a kindred spirit in you."
"And I you," he whispers back. And when he says it, he doesn't realize how much he wants someone to see the real him. How much he wants Morgana to see the real him. He's stolen enough private moments with her. He gestures back to the hallway, "I should probably go back. Arthur will be looking for me."
Morgana smiles, a warmth that touches his heart. "Goodnight Merlin," she walks away from him.
a remedy to cure all ills
There is a stolen moment where Merlin seeks her. For some reason, her chambers are empty and unguarded and he can't help but slip through. She looks so beautiful sleeping, so gentle and angelic. He feels it's improper to sit on her bed so he lowers himself to the ground and reaches over to stroke her cheek.
She has to get better. It's his turn to command her to health, to tell her to wake, to tell her that she has to let him look upon her eyes once more. He takes her hand and presses it to his lips. A few tears spill from his eyes and onto her skin. He doesn't want to think about what would happen if she doesn't wake up.
Before they are disturbed, he places a shaky kiss to her forehead and whispers that he will save her. When he leaves, he marches down to the Great Dragon imprisoned underneath the castle and looks upon the giant creature with a worried expression and several stray tears on his face.
"Tell me what I need to save the Lady Morgana," he demands, the torch in his hands.
"I cannot tell you knowledge when it is not your place to know, young Warlock," the Dragon says, echoing throughout the cave walls.
"Tell me!" Merlin screams, his voice hoarse and dry.
"I fear that her salvation is already in progress," the Dragon replies.
Merlin frowns, "Why is that something to fear?" the relief in his voice is undeniable.
"Because it comes with a price," the Dragon whispers softly.
Merlin can't listen to another word. When he returns to the hall, he finds that a physician by the name of Edwin Muirden has come to Camelot.
Morgana is cured and instead of rushing to her like he desperately wants to, he doesn't, because he's just Arthur's servant. Nothing more, nothing less. He is intrigued by Edwin, even more so when he discovers that he has magic. Finally, someone else like him, to understand.
Instead of finding an ally however, he finds a foe. When Uther is healed, Gaius has been reinstated and Edwin has been killed, Merlin finds himself seeking out Morgana. She is sitting by her vanity dresser, brushing her hair when he knocks and enters on her call.
"Morgana," he quickens his step, "You're well."
"Yes, Merlin," she turns, smiling back, "I am. You looked worried."
"I was," he splutters, "But I'm not anymore. You're fine. Better than fine, great actually, really good—"
"Merlin," Morgana silences him with a smirk. "I'm thankful you and Gaius stopped Edwin. I fear what he would have done if you hadn't discovered him."
"No need to worry about that," Merlin puts his hands behind his back. He turns to go but then looks round, frowning, "You didn't... You didn't happen to hear anything, did you? When you were asleep?"
"Of Edwin?" her face is completely natural, "No, nothing. Is it important?"
Merlin sighs, relieved. Morgana doesn't need to know how devastated he would have been if anything had happened to her, or that he had sat by her bedside, crying. He shakes his head, "Not important at all."
"Goodnight, Lady Morgana."
She smiles to herself once he is gone. She has in fact, heard everything he said.
A remedy to cure all ills indeed.
the gates of avalon
"I had another dream," it all starts with that sentence. She goes to Gaius, because he's a physician and he's treated her for years. The dream in which that Sophia girl kills Arthur is something that Gaius shoos her off with nothing more than another sleeping draught and an unhelpful hug. She is angry inside, because he doesn't believe her, but really, what else did she expect? She expected Gaius to tell her it was nothing, because if it wasn't... then that meant that she had dreamt the future and that was entirely impossible. Uther would have her head if he suspected such witchcraft. Thinking back, she should have just confided in Merlin in the hallway. He'd never tell anyone.
Gaius tells her not to speak to Uther of this, because deep down, he knows that she'll be strung up by her neck and burned at the stake if the King thinks that his loving ward is a sorceress in disguise. That he harboured a Witch in Camelot, right under his nose. He may be fond of Morgana, but the shame would overpower him and he would be forced by the expected behaviours to punish her by the laws of his Kingdom. Death.
She confides in Gwen, because she's practically like her sister, her best friend, she'd never betray her. She wants to tell Merlin, but when she searches for him in the courtyard, she can't find him anywhere. So she goes to Arthur, in a last chance attempt to stop whatever plan Sophia's got in motion. He completely misinterprets the whole situation and she storms out, frustrated that no one seems to believe her.
When Gaius finally tells Merlin that he suspects Morgana has magic and has done for a while, he finally realises why he felt such a pull to her. They are the same. Both born with an innate gift from the Old Religion. Both kindred and both pieces that fit together to complete the other. On one hand, he knows he has to save Arthur, but there is another part of him that wants to rush to Morgana and tell her that it's not all in her head, that she has magic and he does too, and it's okay.
Morgana knows it's useless but she tries to convince Uther of Sophia's deception. Arthur's life is in danger, and there's almost no second thought about it. She doesn't even know what's happening herself, all she knows is that she saw Sophia before she met her, and she's so sure that Arthur's life is in danger. Does that make her a traitor to Camelot? To Uther? It's almost on the edge of her tongue. She almost tells Uther... but she chokes and relents.
When Gaius says that he believes her, it's a weight off her mind. Finally, someone believes her. When Arthur is returned, safe and Sophia and her meddling father are no longer, Morgana can't help but wonder exactly what would happen to her if Uther found that she possessed magic. Would he really burn her at the stake? She enters Gaius' chambers, her stomach swooping at the sight of Merlin. She wanted to tell him so badly, but everything is over now.
They share a look as she leaves with yet another sleeping draught and Merlin is torn between staying where he is and rushing after her. Gaius commands him that she must never know of her powers, the true extent of them, that it is for her own safety and Merlin has never felt such deep resentment for anyone – let alone Gaius – in all his life, bar Uther. He almost had someone to share his gift with, and then suddenly, that chance was gone, ripped from him by the cruel and unjust ways of an arrogant and cold ruler.
"Is she like me?" he questions. "Can she use magic?"
It's uncertain the true extent of her powers and even Gaius cannot say for sure that she has any other gifts apart from foresight. Merlin goes to bed that night, cold and bitter. He should be in Morgana's chambers, telling her that she's just as human and pure as she was before those dreams started to invade her mind. He should be telling her that she wasn't going crazy, nor was it something to fear. He has Gaius to help him and she has no one. Alone.
Morgana's always felt alone, even with Arthur or a hundred Knights around her, she's always felt alone, felt different, and this just proves it. Uther and the rest of Camelot would never accept her for what she is. Uther's hatred for magic has been drummed into her since she was ten years old. It's something to fear, she was taught.
His words haunted her:
"Magic is evil, Morgana, you'll do well to remember that. All suspects of innate or practiced sorcery will be condemned to death, forced into the last circle of Hell, which is reserved for the black souls of traitors and their kind alike. It corrupts the soul, wipes out all purity and enslaves the host to do it's evil bidding. Where there is magic in this world, you will never be safe. Only the mortal light of our united Kingdom in the fight against such evil will be the saviour of our people."
Gaius believed her dream and it came true. She cries herself to sleep that night, sobbing into her pillow. There was no other explanation for it. She was a Seer, infected by sorcery, controlled by witchcraft. She couldn't bear the thought of becoming evil. She didn't want to be corrupted, she didn't want to loathe herself. A dreamless sleep did not come to her that night. When she awoke in the morning and looked at herself in the mirror, her eyes were full of fear and sadness.
She was completely and utterly alone.
the beginning of the end
It's not just that he's a child. It's that he's a Druid child. An innocent boy, his only crime being born with magic that he didn't ask for. Of course Morgana is going to form a bond with him, so strong that she will defy Uther for. She's only human after all, scared of being discovered for possessing her suspected Seer abilities. She can't see a child killed, and is shocked that even Uther would allow such cruelty to a child.
It really shows her just how far he would go. If he were to hurt a suspected child, what in heaven's kingdom would he do to her, his faithful ward? It's not a surprise that Merlin takes him to her. Maybe it's because Merlin knows she will understand, or maybe it's because she's just Morgana and she was born with innate goodness that can't stand by and watch an innocent boy be killed. Merlin has to help him, because he knows what it's like to hide your true identity, to fear what you are. He's just lucky he has Gaius to help. The boy has no one anymore. Morgana has no one full stop.
"What if magic isn't something you choose? What if it chooses you?" her words haunt him all day long. He can see it in her eyes. She's still so confused, so lost, without any hope of direction, shoving all her faith and determination into this, into saving someone she fears is like her. Despite what the Dragon says, he can't stand by and let an innocent boy be killed for something he may or may not do when he's older. That's just not who Merlin is.
When Arthur has taken the boy to meet his kind, Merlin finds Morgana storming down the hallway, angry tears dripping down her cheeks.
"Did something happen?" he asks, breathless.
She opens her mouth but she can't speak. He goes beyond his post and wraps an arm around her waist, holding her up. He guides her to her room, over to her bed where she slumps down on it, sobbing hysterically.
"Morgana, Arthur got the boy to safety," Merlin whispers to her, "He's safe."
"Am I?" she shrieks. "Merlin, Uther basically said he'd kill me where I stood if he found out I had something to do with the boy's escape... And I'm like him."
"Like him?" Merlin holds his breath. Is Morgana going to tell him about her suspected Seer abilities?
"I didn't mean that," she wipes her hot tears away, pulling away him him, "I—I don't know what I was talking about, I didn't mean—"
"Morgana," he stills her, "It's okay. You're upset, I know you didn't mean anything by it. I believe that Uther cares for you, Morgana, even if he's blinded by hate."
"Merlin," she starts to shake. "I'm so scared."
And when he looks into her eyes, he does see how fearful she is. She's so terrified, because she doesn't know who she is and what she's capable of. Uther's taught her to hate magic and indirectly, she's starting to loathe herself. Terrified by her abilities, unsure of her destiny. He opens his mouth, ready to tell her about his own magic, damned be the consequences, when she speaks before him.
"Merlin, please, will you hold me?" Morgana whispers. She stares up at him, wide eyed and alone and he nods immediately. Telling her about his own magic would just confuse her even more right now and he won't do that. He moves closer, settles on the bed in front of her and opens his arms, leaning in.
Morgana practically leaps on him, hugging him tightly with both arms and burying her head in his neck. Despite the situation, he can't help but smile. This is the first time they've hugged and he wants to savour the moment forever. He rocks her back and forwards softly, murmuring to her that everything will be okay. She calms in his arms, moving her head from his neck to his chest. He strokes her hair, and the base of her back.
"Thank you, Merlin," she eventually moves away. "You've been a good friend," friend burns the back of her throat. He's more than a friend to her, she knows that and she hopes that he does too.
"Always," he replies, brushing her damp cheek with his fingers.
Merlin sits at Gaius' workbench, pressing a cold cloth to his wounded and bloodied arm. After throwing the blessed sword into Lake Avalon, he tripped on the way back through the woods to Camelot and cut his arm. He winces, how close it came today to losing everything. The Dragon was furious that Uther had wielded the sword and with Merlin desperate to hide the enchanted weapon, he had been clumsier than usual.
He hasn't even realised that Morgana has entered, and he doesn't miss the breathless worry in her voice.
"I'm fine, I just tripped," he replies.
She crouches down, inspecting his arm. "Merlin," she smiles to herself, taking the wet cloth from his hands and dipping it in the warm water.
"Morgana, you don't need to—" Merlin shakes his head.
"I want to," she interrupts, sighing softly. "Unless you want me to leave?" she's sure he doesn't.
"Of course not," he jumps to say, smiling nervously, "I always love your company."
"Today was frightful," she mutters, pressing the cloth against his bleeding wound. "Magic was used for evil," there's an underlying tone in her voice. Today's events involving Tristan de Bois as a resurrected wraith are only reinforcing that magic is corrupt and maybe someday, she fears that she will be as well.
"It doesn't need to be," Merlin shakes his head. "Morgana, magic is not evil. It's born in a person, pure and undecided. People who use magic for evil choose to do so at their own choice."
"You really think so?" Morgana whispers back.
"I believe that, yes," he nods, looking down at her as she keeps tending to his wound. She pats the wet cloth against his cut, trying to stop the bleeding. He smiles at her, unable to hide his admiration.
She catches his gaze, "Merlin, what are you looking at me like that for?"
"Nothing," he shakes his head, "N—nothing."
She removes the wet cloth and picks up a torn rag beside her. She wraps the rag around his cut arm, stopping the continuous bleeding and tying it gently but firmly.
"Thank you," he murmurs. A familiar heat is brewing in the pit of his abdomen. He hasn't been able to stop his attraction to Morgana and ever since he met her at the festival, it's been growing and manifesting into something he can't go a day without thinking about.
"You look sad," she comments, taking a seat next to him on the bench from her previous crouched position at his arm.
He is sad. At so many things. His supposed destiny with Arthur, his inability to reveal his magic, his frustration at not being able to comfort her about her suspected gifts and the knowledge that nothing can ever happen between them, because he is just a serving boy and she is the King's Ward.
"I'm just tired," he replies, unable to meet her gaze.
"Do you ever wish of a land where things are different?" her voice is barely above a whisper but he hears her anyway. "Where people of magic are not persecuted and the Kingdom does not cower in fear of Uther?"
"Yes," he admits, gaze low.
"Where two people of different classes can be together?" Morgana can barely believe she's just said that, but she has and it's out there now.
He freezes, unsure of what she's implying. Is she talking about them? They've never stated their feelings for each other outright but they both know the connection they have is undeniable.
"That would be nice," his throat is dry and he makes himself look upwards at her.
She bites her lip and smiles. "Yes, it would be."
Their moment is interrupted by Gaius however, who gives her another sleeping draught and shoos her on her way.
Merlin doesn't sleep that night, and neither does Morgana.
the moment of truth
Morgana scowls at Uther and moves to help Hunith from the floor. She's always been curious of Merlin's mother, wonders what kind of woman she is to have produced a son as wonderful and pure as Merlin. As usual, Uther has shown nothing but cruelty and Morgana's resentment towards him is starting to manifest itself into hate. She's sick of his tyranny, living in fear of being discovered as a Seer and tired of watching him strike down people that get in his way. It's exhausting.
Merlin swallows something thick in his throat as he watches Morgana escort his mother from the hall, a comforting arm placed around her. He's never surprised by her beauty or kindness, and despite the fact that he knows she lives in fear, she still finds it in her to stand up to Uther and make her opinions known. He knows he must leave Camelot and return to Ealdor. His mother needs him and so does his village.
"You're too kind, Lady Morgana," Hunith says as Morgana leads her into her chambers.
"Nonsense," Morgana shakes her head, "I've always wanted to meet you. I just wish this could have happened on better terms. Merlin's talked about you a lot."
Hunith frowns, trying to connect Merlin and the Lady Morgana together. By all reasoning on accounts, they should be nothing more than a servant and a Lady, but somehow, there is warmth in Morgana's voice and it's because of her son.
"You and Merlin are friends?" Hunith cannot hide her surprise.
"He's my best friend," Morgana whispers suddenly, looking away and then remembering her place. "He's helped me a few times, of course. But that's Merlin. Can't see a single soul suffer. I suppose he has you to thank for that."
Hunith bites her lip, smiling to herself. She knows love when she sees it and it's written all over the Lady Morgana's face. "You must be careful," she tells her suddenly.
"I'm sorry?" Morgana frowns.
"Your heart is written all over your face, dear child," Hunith replies, "I can see it because I am Merlin's mother but who knows who else can see it also."
"I don't understand—"
"You don't have to lie, Lady Morgana. I won't tell anyone."
Morgana looks down at the floor, flooded by emotion. "Uther will never let us be. And this fantasy of Merlin is probably just that; a fantasy. Who knows if Merlin would have me? I'm sure he'd much prefer Gwen, someone who is akin to him."
"I thought there was something different about him," Hunith confides quietly, "He's taller, brighter, wiser; changed. I saw how he looked at you in the great hall, Lady Morgana. My son does feel the same."
Morgana's eyes widened. "You really think so?"
Merlin's mother nods. "I really do, but I must ask that you do not put my son in danger."
Morgana nods back, looking sad. "I know what Uther would do if he ever found that Merlin and I were more. I won't risk his life for mine."
Gwen appeared at the doorway, abruptly halting their conversation. "Morgana, you asked to see me?"
"Ready the weapons," Morgana straightened up, "We're going with them."
When Merlin found out that Morgana and Gwen planned to go with them, he couldn't believe it. He tried talking them both out of it, but they dug their heels in and twisted. They both wanted to help and it made him warm inside that he had people who would do that for him. Real friends.
When they made a stop in the woods at night, Merlin and Hunith were sitting around the camp fire while Gwen and Morgana slept a few yards away.
"They shouldn't be here," she told her son, "Especially the Lady Morgana. Isn't she the King's Ward?"
"Not that you'd know it," he replied, poking the fire with a stray stick, "She's the only person I know who isn't frightened," and he really meant it.
"You have to be careful, son," Hunith tilted her head slightly.
"I will be," Merlin nodded back, "When Kanen attacks again—"
"No Merlin, you and the Lady Morgana must be careful."
Merlin frowns, his heart racing a million beats per second, "What do you mean?"
"Don't try to fool me, Merlin," her smile is wide and bright, "I can see it in your eyes, you are quite taken by her and she you."
Merlin bites his lip, looking down. He shakes his head, suddenly nervous. He's never said his feelings for her out loud but he can't lie to his own mother. She sees right through him. "She's taken by me?" he breathes.
Hunith nods back. "Merlin... Does she know about you?"
"No, only Gaius, and Will," he replies. He wants to tell his mother that Morgana is possibly a Seer, that she might have magic too, but this will only worry her more, so he says nothing.
They sleep restlessly that night, even more so when Arthur joins them.
Morgana likes being in the roots of Merlin's homeland. His origins. It's nice, seeing where he grew up and where he lived for most of his life. They gather in the huts the night before Kanen and his men are due to arrive.
Gwen is busy pottering around, Morgana perched on the edge of the bed and Arthur standing by the window, gazing out. Merlin watches his friends, the people he's come to call his own family. They look so pensive, so unsure. And then Morgana looks across the room and they share a look that is so powerful it makes his stomach do jumps.
They find each other, just before the battle begins.
"Are you scared?" Morgana crosses their distance and readjusts Merlin's armour without a second thought.
"No," he replies, glancing down at her fingers, "Are you?"
"I'm scared for others," Morgana whispers, "For you."
"Don't be," he reaches out and touches her cheek. And then he knows, he knows he has to. "Morgana, there's something I have to tell you." He doesn't want to die without telling her how he feels.
"Merlin," Morgana looks down, gasping.
And just then, a villager breaks through the forest, riding on his horse. "They're coming!"
"Good luck," she wishes him and runs to her station, ready to create fire.
When the battle is over, Morgana finds Merlin in his mother's hut, his cheeks damp with the tears from Will's death as he cries on his childhood bed.
"Merlin?" her voice breaks.
Merlin doesn't hide his crying and Morgana rushes over to him, cradling him unreservedly.
"I got him killed," Merlin sobs into her shoulder, clutching her back. "It's my fault—"
"No," Morgana shakes her head, "No, don't say that, Merlin, it's not true. You were his friend, he knew what risk he was taking, we all did," she pulls back to look at his face, "Merlin, your friend... He had magic?"
Merlin stiffens, nodding.
"And he was good?" Morgana whispers hoarsely.
"I don't believe what Uther and Arthur think about magic," Morgana wiped away his tears softly, "It doesn't have to be a weapon for evil."
Maybe it's the fact that his mother said that Morgana was taken by him, or that Will was dead, or that Arthur had once again proved that he would never accept magic into Camelot while Uther still lived, that made him do something as rashly as plunging forwards and kissing her.
Morgana was taken aback, stilling in his arms as his hot lips burned against hers. He thrust them forwards, begging her to start kissing him back. Was his mother wrong? Was everything he'd felt for her over the past year a lie? He'd almost begun to pull away, and then he felt her mouth finally moving under his.
It wasn't slow, or gentle. It was hot and fiery, mouths moving against mouths with a conviction that was born from the frustration of their unfulfilled feelings. Morgana felt all of her pent up emotions for Merlin spill from the surface, extracting itself from her heart and slithering into his. She grabbed the back of his neck as he pulled her onto his lap and gripped her waist.
His tears had stopped, feeling guilty that the only thing he could grieve at this moment was that Morgana was not wearing one of her shocking gowns that she flitted around in that barely contained her breasts. His fingers explored her curves, through her waist, hips and back and down to the curve of her thighs.
She straddles him, pushing them both backwards onto the bed. Their tongues blend together, fighting for dominance and each feeling a need for acceptance. Morgana doesn't follow Uther's ways of magic, and he can't help but feel that she has indirectly embraced who he is, mostly because of who she might be and because she has a wise heart. This should be the moment they reveal their magic to each other but he can't stop kissing her yet. Not yet.
It's not enough, they need more. He rolls on top of her, gasping at the feel of her nimble fingers sliding up his back. Their fingers intertwined as he pins their hands to the bed and recaptures her lips. She groaned at the feel of his tongue sucking under her earlobe and something hard makes itself known against her inner thigh. He would have been embarrassed, had Morgana not thrown back her head and gasped his name as she writhed beneath him. Seeing her become undone at his touch is all he needs to nearly lose it.
"I need you," his voice breaks as he leans his head against her chest.
"I need you too," she admits and it terrifies and excites her at the same time. She's as innocent as the light of day, untouched by any man, but right now, she doesn't want her purity to remain a moment longer.
"I want our first time to be special," he presses kisses all along her neck and collar bone. "We should wait until we return—"
"This is special, Merlin," she gasps beneath him. "I want this too. I want my first time to be with you."
He stills, capturing her gaze with his. She freezes, unsure and asks, "Did I say something wrong?"
He shakes his head and brings their faces together, "No. I want my first time to be with you as well," he pressed his lips to hers again, gentle and slow and so, so loving.
"What in God's name do you think you're doing?"
The voice that separates them like burned coal is Hunith, who is staring at them with fiery accusation and anger. They both sat on other ends of the bed, hair messed and lips swollen.
"Mother," Merlin starts hoarsely, "You said—"
"I said to be careful, the both of you," Hunith snaps, "I didn't say fornicate on your childhood bed with Arthur just yards away in the neighbouring tavern. How might he react, if he saw you and the King's Ward frolicking together? Merlin, you've never been so foolish. You just cremated your best friend and barely got away with—" she stops suddenly, remembering not to finish that sentence about Merlin's magic with Morgana in the room. "—With your life. Both of you. You saw how Arthur acted towards Will, even after the sorcerer used his magic to save his life. He wouldn't have spared Will for that and he wouldn't spare you for this either."
Morgana wiped away hot tears from her cheeks.
"Mother, I know how you worry," Merlin grimaces, "But I lo—"
"Don't you dare finish that sentence," Hunith barks. She stared at Morgana for the longest of moments and said, "Please don't put my only son in danger, Lady Morgana. He's the only thing I have left."
Morgana stood from bed, feeling distraught. "I know," her voice broke, "I'm sorry."
Merlin stood up as well, shaking his head, "No. No, I won't let you do this," he cupped Morgana's cheeks, "We've just found each other, I know this is dangerous Morgana, but we can do it."
Morgana pulled away from him, shaking her head sadly. "Your mother's right, Merlin. I cannot risk your life for mine. I'm sorry—"
Merlin barged past Morgana and his mother and stormed out of the hut.
Morgana clamped her mouth shut with her hand, stalling her sobs.
"I'm sorry, child," Hunith whispered sadly. "I'm so, so sorry."
the labyrinth of gedref
It's been a week and Merlin hasn't spoken to her. Hasn't let himself be alone with her, hasn't brought her any sleeping draught or checked on her. She misses him sorely and she's never felt so alone. Her father's anniversary is coming up soon and the fear that she has magic is amplified all the more. It's not just that Uther is terrified of magic or that it's been drummed into her her whole life that magic is evil, it's also that her gifts are suspected to be have been hereditary. Her father is long dead and her mother disappeared shortly afterwards. She's always been alone. She'll never know if her father or mother had these abilities.
A dark part of her inside suspects that perhaps Uther killed her father on purpose. He didn't send him the reinforcements he needed, he practically signed his death warrant. She's suspected for a while that if her father did have Seer abilities, then perhaps Uther knew about it and that's why he was killed. Where her mother is is a whole other question entirely. She's even starting to think that maybe Uther had a hand in her disappearance as well. Why she's still alive and under Uther's thumb is baffling. He practically threatened her with death at the thought that she'd aided the Druid boy. God knows what he would do if he found out she was born with magic.
Arthur doesn't help Uther's blinded ways, when he kills a Unicorn and brings a curse upon Camelot, drying up the water and killing the crops. Once again, it is apparently the consequences of evil magic and that's all that Uther can see. Morgana can barely stand Merlin not talking to her, but he runs around after Arthur as usual and pretends not to notice her when she is the only thing his eyes want to seek out. He's hurt and she knows it but she's protecting his life, protecting him from Uther, why can't he see that?
She catches him briefly, storming down the halls for some unknown purpose. "Merlin."
"I don't have time for this, Morgana," he doesn't stop walking and she struggles to keep up with him in her ridiculous gown.
"Merlin, please understand," she says, "I don't want you to die—"
He abruptly turns around, halting her movements, "I would gladly give my life for you."
She shakes her head, tears spilling out her eyes and onto her cheeks. "I'm scared." She's been feeling scared of everything lately and this 'curse' is only making matters worse. All she can see is suffering at the hands of magic. That's all she sees, all the time. Is she really meant to be like that?
"I know," his voice softens. "But if I can't be with you, then I can't be around you. It's too hard."
"You're my best friend," Morgana starts, shocked and hurt, "Merlin—" she takes a step towards him and he takes one back. "Please don't leave me."
"Merlin!" Arthur calls from across the courtyard.
"I have to go," Merlin shakes his head. "Stay inside with Gwen, help as many people as you can. Don't go anywhere alone."
"Merlin," she hisses. How can he act this way around her? So cold, so detached.
"Milady," he replies and the breath is knocked out of her. He's drawn the line between them, balancing the proper with the right. Servant and Lady. He's killing her. She watches him with lifeless eyes as he turns and runs towards Arthur. Every step away from her is breaking him inside but he knows he has to. He can't be around her, and not be with her. That's a whole other kind of torture they both don't need.
He doesn't realize that every step away from her is another step towards the path she never wanted to go down.
to kill the king
It starts with a dream that Uther discovers Morgana's suspected Seer powers on the night before her father's anniversary. And then she wakes up and realizes that it is the anniversary of her father's death. A sob nearly escapes her throat. How could she forget the exact day of her father's very demise? The day doesn't start well. Gwen's father Tom is accused of treachery and Uther is blind as usual to his own hatred.
Giving Tom the key to escape might not have been the best idea but she couldn't see Gwen's father executed, especially on the very day that her own father died, at the hands of Uther as well, no less. She stands by her window, watching her handmaiden and close friend grieve for the death of her father and Morgana does feel her own mass of guilt. If she hadn't of given Tom the key he might not have escaped and died, but she knows that isn't true. The trial was just a formality. He would have killed Tom anyway.
The pain is so overwhelming that she shuts it off, and lets her emotions manifest into rage. Undeniable unhindered rage, that pulses through her veins like fire and ice and threatens to destroy the fragile interior of her already damaged heart. She's known for a while, that Camelot would be better off if Uther were dead. Arthur would make a much better King. In fact, she suspected he would be the greatest King to ever live.
Knowing what Uther has done in the past; the Great Purge being one of the most disgusting and soul destroying acts he ever committed, she sometimes wonders how he still has a soul left in that damaged broken shell of a body. He slaughtered thousands of innocent citizens, and even some people that were not from his Kingdom. Women, children, men, babies... Drowned, burned, beheaded, hanged, mutilated, and tortured, because of a feeling that they might possess magic. Uther is the epitome of evil.
The pain of her father's death, of the fear of her own suspected magic, the fear of Uther's reaction if he ever found out, the grief of Gwen's loss, the hurt at being thrown in the dungeons and shackled like a common thief and the continued cold shoulder that Merlin was giving her, it made her just... snap. It wouldn't make her evil to want to rid the world of Uther Pendragon, many people did, for previously stated reasons. She was doing the Kingdom a favour, everyone hated Uther, even people not under his rule. Perhaps it was selfish that she just wanted to live in peace and not have to hold her breath every day in case he discovered her foresight dreams, and perhaps it was selfish that she secretly wondered if she and Merlin could be together after the King's demise, but she knew it was something that everyone would benefit from. Let Arthur take over and rule Camelot.
Uther didn't love anyone, certainly not her and certainly not Camelot. He was so broken, tormented by his blinded hatred and hardened by the years of blood on his hands. Everyday he walked around the castle, the crimes of everyone he'd wronged hanging over his head. How does one live with oneself knowing that they were the cause of such pain and torment?
Why does he get to walk around whilst everyone else suffers? Morgana, Gwen, the people of Camelot, suffering from the loss of family members at the hand of Uther. Persecuted innocents, the Druids, people suspected of magic, people who have magic, even common thieves or law breakers. All sentenced to death under the tyranny of an embittered empty shell. It had to end. She just wanted to feel normal again. That's all she's ever wanted.
Making a deal with Tauren is the last thing she wants to do. He's indirectly responsible for Tom's death but she can't let Gwen to go to the woods and meet him alone. Her cloak flits around her body as she walks through the dark night, like a predator, and she feels like one. She stalks through the forest, proving to Tauren and his men that she wants Uther dead. And it's not like a want really, it's more like a need. She needs Uther dead and she's not the only one.
The deal is in place. She doesn't know that Merlin has followed her, or that he knows of her intentions. And he can't believe it. She has so much goodness in her heart, how can she do this? She's not the first to want Uther dead and sometimes he's entertained a dark notion that the Kingdom would fair better with the King gone, but he knows how much it would destroy Arthur, and the guilt would eventually consume Morgana as well. So he follows them.
Morgana sits at her father's gravestone, consumed by the pain, ready to be released of Uther forever. His tainted views no longer have a place in this world and she never had a place in his heart to begin with. To have him kneel beside her, to sit on her father's grave when he's the reason he's dead is almost enough to make Morgana kill him herself. And then he starts talking, starts opening up about his past mistakes, as he calls them, and how much she means to him. It's shocked her completely.
Uther has never been so openly warm with her, so openly affectionate. He's always just been indifferent, demanding, relentless. Oh god, is he capable of change? Her heartbeat is thudding away in her chest. Could he one day change his ways and accept magic back into his life? Could he one day look upon her face and accept the possible magic she might hold inside her soul? A cold realisation flooded her body. This wasn't her. She wasn't a... A murderer. She only killed people when they attacked her. Self defence. This was different. This was slaughter.
She plunged the dagger into Tauren's back, sickened by his death and how she was the cause of it, indirectly or not. But the grief she felt for him was nothing compared to the sinking conclusion that Uther did retain some of his humanity; he just never showed it. She couldn't kill him, not here at her father's grave, not when he had expressed his guilt for Gorlois, Tom and the people he'd killed. Not when she really looked inside herself and realised that the route she didn't want to follow was the one she was on. She couldn't let her blind quest for vengeance rule her head. She's unaware of Merlin's presence on the hill, how he fought off Tauren's men and watched her embrace with Uther.
When she returns, she doesn't recognise herself in the mirror. She's withdrawn, pale, sickly white, her eyes baggy and heavy. The girl staring back at her in the mirror isn't someone she knows and that very fear is already causing her to doubt her moral compass. If Uther hadn't confessed his sins and showed compassion, would she have let Tauren kill him? Would Camelot be without a King? Would she have really gone through with it? It chills her to the bone, that she is capable of such... hatred.
Gwen flits around her, telling her she was so brave, when someone knocks on her door.
"Tell them I want to be alone," she tells Gwen.
"What if it's Merlin?" Gwen says carefully.
"Especially if it's Merlin," Morgana whispers and retreats to her bed.
She never finds out who was at the door, but then again, she doesn't care either.
le morte d'arthur
She is certain she posses foresight now when she dreams of Arthur's death at the hands of a giant beast. He doesn't listen to her, of course. She watches from her window as Uther carries Arthur's body through the courtyard, collapsing on his knees. The sight of the King; broken and fallen is more than enough to make her start sobbing again. She was right. Arthur was bitten by the Questing Beast as she foretold. She doesn't understand what's happening anymore. How is this even possible?
For some reason, her dreams tell her that Merlin is somehow involved. They haven't spoken in weeks, their distance a great cause of suffering for the other, but there is always something to keep them preoccupied. There's always another foe, a great injustice caused, either by the hands of magic or by the hands of Uther. It's hard to keep up these days. She awakes in the afternoon, stumbles from her bed and grabs Merlin into a small gap in the wall.
"It's only the beginning," she stresses to him and she doesn't know why exactly, but something in her dreams is telling her that he – Merlin – must know what's about to happen, because something other than Arthur's possible death is about to occur. He looks down at her grip on his arm, struggling with the want and need to feel her soft skin again. It's been so long since they've been pressed together.
But he can't. If he lets himself have too much alone time with her, he won't be able to stop. He pulls away from her grip and slips out, continuing his walking. Morgana watches him from the corner, tears openly running down her face. Nobody can save her, even not Merlin. She sleeps restlessly that night. Something has happened and she doesn't know what. She rises from sleep, stepping outside where the sunshine is pouring down. Gaius is pottering around with empty buckets, Merlin is standing by watching Arthur train and Gwen is busy attending to her chores. Something has... changed. Something has happened, and it's driving her insane to not know exactly what it is.
"Morgana, you look dreadful," Arthur calls over to her. "Maybe you should go back to bed for another week so the next time you wake up I can stand the sight of your face."
"Thank you, Arthur," Morgana calls back, smiling tiredly. She can always count on him to mock her.
"Merlin, take Morgana back to bed," Arthur says, his voice softening with concern. Merlin opens his mouth, ready to refuse when Arthur adds impatiently, "Now, Merlin."
They walk along the hall, Merlin putting an appropriate amount of distance between them. Morgana looks at him out of the corner of her eye, desperate to tell him about her suspected Seer abilities. First with Sophia, now with the Questing Beast. This can't be a coincidence. She doesn't want to deny her suspicions any longer. She wants to connect to someone who will understand.
"Merlin, please don't hate me," she whispers softly.
"I could never," the warmth in his voice is undeniable.
"I miss you," the sentiment lingers to intensify the atmosphere. She really means it. She has never missed another human being more than she misses Merlin. It's tearing her apart from the inside out.
"Morgana," Merlin says when they reach her chambers, "I miss you too."
"Do you?" her voice breaks, "Because it doesn't seem like it."
"No, I do," he closes the distance between them and cups her cheek. "I miss you so much, you have no idea..."
"Then why can't you be my friend like always?" Morgana clutches his top.
"I want to," Merlin struggles to hide his torment, his hands flitting to her waist, feeling her curves. He watches her pleasure at his touch uneasily contain itself and his stomach twists with torture. He can't stand how they've got to act around each other, how he needs to act around her. Everything is so messed up. "But it's too hard," he pulls away from her and watches the hurt flicker in her eyes. "It's too hard to be around you and not be with you."
She gazes away, tears rising to the surface and threatening to fall.
"I'm sorry," Merlin whispers. He turns, wiping away an angry tear. He can't stay a moment longer. If he does, he'll break.
Morgana leant against her chamber door, watching his retreating figure. She let out a silent sob and slipped through her doors. She couldn't be on her feet another second. She collapsed onto her bed, hugging her pillow and trying to keep her cries quiet.
She thought back to her childhood, where she had skipped along the castle with Arthur and spent her spare time learning how to be a Lady. She'd wished to fall in love, with a man who was strong and kind and perfect. Everything would be perfect, she used to think.
But she was wrong. Love didn't make everything perfect, quite the opposite. It ruined her, made her weak, made her heart hurt, made her long for a place she'd never been to. She wasn't a dreamer anymore, despite how her dreams continued to plague her.
Years from now, after destiny itself had spoken, people would question if the Lady Morgana ever had a heart in the first place.
They would never know how she had already given it away.
no more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love,
no more dreaming like a girl so in love with the wrong world