you and i are a story that never gets told (8/13)
Title: you and i are a story that never gets told (8/~13)
Fandom: Merlin
Characters/Pairings: Arthur/Morgana, any and all other characters
Word Count: 5,141
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own any of this stuff, because if I did ArMor would be canon.
Spoilers: Vague spoilers for all of Merlin series 2
Summary: Perhaps there was another way, if only it had gone a little different at the start. How it should've been, aka Series 2 the proper way.
Author's Notes: The finale crushed my heart and I haven't even watched yet, so have some fix-it fic. IT COULD'VE BEEN SO MUCH BETTER DAMN IT. Oh, and Merry Christmas!
Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6
---
The aftermath of Morgause’s challenge and what followed left Arthur a shell of who he was. For weeks, he shut himself away, barely speaking or eating. He even turned Morgana away most days, and when he did see her, it wasn’t the same. He was grieving for so much, his mother, his relationship with his father, his sense of self. Morgana wanted to fix it, but only time would help him heal.
Uther was struggling as well, not that Morgana cared. The king had half-heartedly thanked her for intervening and saving his life, but she told him quite plainly that it had only been for Arthur’s sake.
Eventually, Uther realized that he had to take steps to get his son to forgive him, but he never was good at showing remorse. He went to see Arthur, posting guards at the door in case it became violent. At the sight of his son staring emptily out the window, he found himself saying, “You have every right to hate me, Arthur.”
Arthur continued to stare, unmoved by his father’s statement.
“I know that you may never trust me again, but believe me when I tell you that I never wanted to harm your mother. The things I did…” He exhaled a shaky breath, struggling to explain himself. “It was wrong. I know that. It was a foolish mistake. My desire to have a son blinded me to what I knew to be true: that sorcery was and always will be dangerous. And my lapse in judgment cost me your mother.”
Arthur was listening intently, but he couldn’t string any of his thoughts together to form words.
“Hate me all you want, but do not let your hatred trick you into believing that sorcery can be used for good. My crusade against magic isn’t because of my guilt, Arthur. The fact that it took your mother only opened my eyes to its true nature.” Desperately trying to convey his point, he hissed, “It is pure evil.”
At that, a dry, humorless laugh escaped Arthur’s lips. “You’re wrong.”
Uther scowled, disappointed in his son. “Just remember, Arthur, whether or not you wish to think of me as your father, I am still your king.”
Arthur finally turned his head away from the window and assessed his father, finding the man looking considerably older than he had in the weeks before.
His kingly manner now fully in place, Uther continued, “While you live under my command, you will follow my orders. If you still wish to someday be the King of Camelot, it would be wise for you to show me some respect.”
The anger bubbled up under the surface, the first real emotion he had felt in days. He ground his teeth together to keep from screaming. When he finally spoke, it was a harsh, gravelly sound. “Understood.” He faced the window again, wordlessly dismissing his father.
Uther left, accepting that the feud was over. His son may despise him, but Arthur would still abide his rule, and that was all that mattered.
---
Arthur slowly started functioning after that visit, albeit begrudgingly. He still disagreed with most of the decisions his father made, but he knew that he had a duty to Camelot and could not abandon them for his own petty personal reasons. He started to fall back into normal routines, which included Morgana stopping by more frequently. She hadn’t pried, but he knew she was curious about what had transpired between him and Morgause. As she stopped by for what was becoming her daily visit, he decided to tell her the whole story.
Morgana was curled up in a chair with her feet tucked up under her legs and a blanket around her shoulders. The sun had gone down since they had first started talking and she had grown cold.
Arthur had been pacing the room as he started the story, but by the end he settled into a chair as well.
After Arthur explained what had happened that day, Morgana found herself asking, “What was she like? Your mother.”
A sad smile ghosted across his lips. “She was beautiful,” he murmured. “So gentle and warm. Better than my imagination.”
Morgana smiled at that. “I wish I could’ve seen her.”
Arthur nodded, feeling brighter at the small memory of his mother, “I think she would’ve liked you.”
She grinned wider, brushing off the obvious compliment. “Well, everyone loves me.”
Arthur shook his head, chuckling to himself. “Yes, I can see why.”
Laughing lightly, Morgana unfurled one leg and reached over to nudge his thigh with her foot. When he met her eyes, she smiled sincerely at him. “I’m glad you got to see her, Arthur. At least now you have a clear picture of her when you close your eyes.”
He hummed in agreement, happy for that as well.
After a few minutes, they fell into a silence that would normally be comfortable, but there was something heavy hanging in the air, and they both knew it. During these past weeks, Arthur had been so despondent and Morgana so focused on fixing him that neither had thought to bring up the kiss they had shared.
Morgana knew that the kiss had been in desperation; it was Arthur’s way of coping, and she refused to read more into it. His whole world had been ripped away, and she had been the only thing left for him to cling to, that was all.
The silence grew deafening, and Arthur eventually had to speak. “Morgana… about, you know, what happened with us-”
Although she had wanted him to bring it up before, she suddenly was terrified of the prospect of Arthur rejecting her. Unwilling to let him ruin whatever it was they had, she didn’t give him the chance to finish. “Arthur, it’s fine.”
His mouth snapped shut mid-word and he narrowed his eyes at her, unsure of where this was heading. “Fine?” he questioned.
She spit out the line she had been rehearsing in her head. “You were upset and I was there. It didn’t mean anything.” She shrugged her shoulders to express her feigned nonchalance.
Arthur struggled with her comment, trying to figure out whether or not it bothered him. His forehead creased in confusion and he had to swallow past the newly formed lump in his throat. Eventually he nodded and spoke, forcing a chipper tone. “Right then. Glad that’s settled.”
Morgana nodded in return, feeling slightly uncomfortable under his piercing gaze. She threw off the blanket and stretched out her legs before standing. “It’s late. I should go.” Part of her hoped he would stop her, but he said nothing as she walked out the door.
---
Arthur slowly began to find a way to work alongside with his father, but news of the druid girl’s escape made things difficult. Arthur was content to let the girl go, but it was his duty to lead his men and to find and eliminate any threats to Camelot. A simple girl seemed harmless to him, but the bounty hunter swore that she was dangerous and Uther demanded that she be found.
The bounty hunter even tried interrogating Merlin, but Arthur quickly put a stop to it. He may not be able to stop the search for the girl, but he would not stand idly by and watch his friends be harassed for crimes they didn’t commit.
Thankfully the focus on the girl was soon usurped by the news of several murders in the lower town. Arthur went to investigate and determined that they must have been an animal attack. When there were no tracks to be found, however, Uther’s mind immediately went to sorcery.
Arthur knew that magic could be used for evil, he had seen it, but all the revelations in his life recently made it difficult to rectify his past beliefs with his new ones. He needed Morgana and her level head for guidance on this, but he was reluctant to seek her out, knowing her personal investment in the problem.
Forcing himself to find a way on his own, he resolved to protect his people, no matter what that might entail.
---
Morgana was readying herself for dinner when she heard her door open. Whoever it was came in quietly, and it made Morgana apprehensive. She caught the noise of rustling in her closet and immediately stepped out from behind the screen, ready to fight her intruder. The man was bent over searching through her dresses and Morgana grabbed one of her shoes to throw if necessary. She poised to attack, holding up the shoe, when suddenly the man turned around.
Incredulously, Morgana asked, “Merlin?”
He started at the sound, dropping the dress he was holding. “Oh, Lady Morgana. I didn’t know you were in here.”
She raised an eyebrow at him quizzically. “What are you doing in my closet?”
Stammering, he tried to think of a plausible excuse. “Um, well, I was just… there are moths you know, I wanted to check to see-”
Morgana saw right through him and cut off his blabbering. “Merlin, don’t make me throw this shoe at you.”
His skin flushed pink, knowing that he had been caught. “Look, Morgana…”
“I want the truth, Merlin. Unless you want me to tell Arthur that you’ve been sneaking around in my chambers?” She knew Arthur was scarier than her shoe, at any rate.
Sighing, he admitted, “I need one of your dresses.”
“Please tell me it’s not for Arthur,” she deadpanned.
Merlin shook his head, trying not to laugh. “It’s for… it’s for a friend.”
“And your friend doesn’t have dresses of her own?”
Realizing that Morgana would understand better than anyone else, he gave up all pretenses of being cryptic. “Morgana, it’s for the druid girl.”
Morgana slowly set down the shoe on her end-table. “You know where she is?”
Merlin nodded. “I need to help her escape the city. She’s a good person, Morgana. She doesn’t deserve this.”
Morgana understood completely. “Of course.” She walked over to stand beside him and bent down to look through the mess he had made, searching her closet for things that would help. She pulled out a purple dressing gown and a pair of shoes to match. “Here, these should work.” As Merlin assessed the dress, she explained, “The hem isn’t too long so she won’t trip if she has to run.”
He smiled graciously at her, thankful for her understanding. “I appreciate it, Morgana. I won’t forget this.”
His tone sounded rather final, but Morgana decided not to question it. “Do you need any other help? I’m sure I could get some horses, or food-”
“We’ll be fine. Thank you for the clothes, though. I know Freya will be grateful as well.” There was no hiding the glee on his face as he spoke the girl’s name, and Morgana noticed.
“Freya?” Morgana inquired. “You seem quite fond of this girl, Merlin.”
He smiled sheepishly, but didn’t deny it.
Morgana shook her head, amused by his clear infatuation. “Go on, then. I’m sure she’s waiting.”
He gave her one last smile before slipping out of her chambers into the hall. As he rounded a corner, he collided with something hard. As he looked up, he saw that it was Arthur’s chest. “Arthur!” he squeaked. He immediately tried to hide the dress from view.
Merlin’s attempts were unsuccessful, however, and Arthur eyed him suspiciously. “Merlin…” He reached forward and grabbed the dress to inspect it. “Is this Morgana’s dress?”
“Uh, yes,” he admitted.
Arthur was clearly not pleased. “And why do you have it?”
His mouth was quicker than his brain, and he blurted, “The Lady Morgana gave it to me.”
The prince’s brow furrowed, still convinced that something was amiss. “And why would she do that?”
Clinging to his earlier attempt at an excuse, he exclaimed, “Moths!”
“Moths.” Arthur restated the word, looking for a further explanation.
“Yes. They infested her closet. She asked me to take this dress and-- and burn it.” He grinned stupidly, hoping that his lie was sufficient.
Fed up with the conversation, Arthur blew out a breath and shook his head. “Whatever you say, Merlin.”
Merlin pulled the dress back from Arthur’s fingers and took off down the hall.
---
The beast had started killing more, and everyone was growing worried. Gaius was searching for the name of the creature, but other than that, no one knew anything other than the brief whisperings of scared townspeople.
Morgana knew it was taking a toll on Arthur to hunt for this beast, especially under his father’s command, but she didn’t want to push. Normally she would give him advice whether he wanted it or not, but he was still at a fragile stage. So she waited.
Thankfully, her patience was rewarded, because late in the night, there was a knock at her door. She slipped out of bed and opened the door a crack, finding Arthur standing there.
He rubbed at the back of his head nervously, regretting his decision all of a sudden. “Sorry, I know it’s late.”
She shook her head to show that it was fine and opened the door to let him in. Her room was dark save for the window, but thankfully it was a full moon and the light was enough so they could see. “Is everything alright, Arthur?”
He sighed deeply and lowered himself to sit on her bed. “I need you to show me.”
Morgana cocked her head at him, not comprehending his request.
He continued, “I need to see it-- to know that it’s not all bad. I know that if it’s in you, it must be something good and pure, but I…” he trailed off, unable to explain it any further.
She smiled at him, understanding. “You want to see my magic.”
“It’s hard, Morgana. My whole life, magic was evil, and then there’s you. But there’s the beast as well, and I just...”
She sat down next to him, shushing him gently. “I know.” She exhaled a slow breath, feeling the weight of the same burden. “It’s not all black and white, Arthur. I struggled with this same thing when I learned of my magic.”
He looked at her, the clear plea for a sense of clarity in his eyes.
Morgana went on, “It’s the people who are evil, magic or no magic.”
Stiffly, he nodded. He understood that, but a battle continued to rage inside him. Quietly, he pressed, “Still, could I, perhaps?”
A slight smile quirked at the edge of her lips and she reached over to her bedside table. There was a candlestick sitting there unlit, and she almost grabbed it before stopping and pulling her hand back. The power of the fire scared even her, and she wanted to assuage his fears, not increase them. Settling back onto the bed, she decided on something else. She looked over at him and bashfully admitted, “This might not work. I’m not very good at this yet.”
The simple thought of Morgana struggling to do anything seemed to ease the tightness around his heart.
She clasped her hands together and stared down at them intently. She whispered an incantation under her breath and her eyes glowed gold.
Arthur was unnerved by the sight of her eyes, but he didn’t move from her side.
Morgana let out a breath and opened her hands, hoping it had worked. Seeing what was in her hands, she smiled to herself at her success. She cautiously brought her cupped hands over to Arthur, showing him what was there.
A small smile appeared on his lips and he reached into her hands to pick up what she had created. “A flower? This is difficult for you?” The insult rolled easily off his tongue.
It didn’t sting, however, since Morgana knew it was a good sign that he was feeling lighter. “Let’s see you conjure something out of thin air, Arthur; then you can make jokes.”
He chuckled, knowing she had a point. He pinched the small white flower between his fingers and brought it up to Morgana’s eye level. He reached over and tucked it behind her ear, pushing her hair out of the way so that the flower was visible. “There.”
The gesture was sweet, and Morgana found herself grinning.
The sight of her, happy and glowing, with a flower in her hair reminded him that everything had a light side, if you looked hard enough. Magic included. “Do think slaying this beast is the right thing to do?” he asked.
The question gave her pause. “Arthur, I know that you want to be trusting of magic, but there is a line that must be drawn. This creature, it is killing people. I do not condone mindless killing of those with magic, but that is true of both sides. If this creature is hurting people, it should be stopped.”
He ducked his head and stared down at his lap. “I know. But sometimes I just think, if it were you…”
“If it were me, I’d want you to stop me, Arthur.”
The thought of hurting Morgana made him feel physically ill, but he understood her point. “Thank you.”
Smiling softly at him, she advised, “Trust your heart, Arthur. You’ll know what is right.”
---
As Morgana slept later that night, she began to dream. Ever since she had hidden Morgause’s bracelet, her nightmares had come back full force. The images consumed her unconscious mind, causing her to see terrible things that may come to pass.
Flashes of a terrifying monster with the body of a cat and wings of a bird went through her head. The creature was attacking the city, its teeth and claws bared. Arthur was there, in the square, preparing to fight. Another flash and the square was stained with red. The creature had delved its talons deep into Arthur’s chest and tore his heart out of his body, leaving his lifeless form to fall to the stones below.
Morgana thrashed in her sleep, tears streaming down her cheeks. She saw a final image, the creature slinking into the shadows and transforming into a girl about her age. The girl had brown hair and kind eyes, and… was wearing Morgana’s purple dress.
Finally escaping the horrible nightmare, Morgana shot straight up in bed, the terrified scream caught in her throat. Her chest heaved from fear and exhaustion and her nightgown was soaked from sweat. Before she could stop herself, she threw on a fur stole and a pair of shoes and ran towards Gaius’s chambers.
She burst into Merlin’s room, finding him there packing his things. “Merlin!” she cried out.
At the sound of her frantic voice, he whipped his head up to look at her.
“It’s Freya,” she breathed. “She’s the beast.” Morgana had taken a hold of his sleeve and was grasping onto him desperately, the terror of her nightmare still fresh.
He shook his head, vehemently denying the accusation. “No, Morgana.”
“I saw it, Merlin! If we don’t stop her, she’s going to kill Arthur.” Her eyes were hollow and distant, but there was no mistaking the truth hidden there. “Please,” she pleaded. “Is this worth Arthur’s life?”
Merlin shoved her off, unable to face reality. He barreled out of the quarters with his things and went to find Freya.
As he left, Morgana covered her face with her hands, holding in the tidal wave of emotion that threatened to swallow her whole.
---
In the hours just before dawn, after Morgana left Gaius’s chambers, she heard the warning bells go off. She knew what it meant, and she took off running towards the square. Her dream was coming true sooner than she had expected.
As she exited the castle, the cool air blasted against her face and made her wrap her stole tighter around her shoulders. The moon peeked out from behind the clouds, illuminating the walls of the castle that loomed above her.
Out in the center of the square, a group of knights came pouring in, cornering a young girl. The girl begged them not to hurt her, and even from yards away, Morgana could feel Arthur’s distress.
Arthur stepped forward slowly, an offer to keep her safe frozen on his tongue. Before he could manage to say anything, the bounty hunter pushed past him, shackles at the ready.
Freya was on the brink of tears. “Please.”
Suddenly, the clock tolled loudly, echoing off the cobblestones. Morgana watched with baited breath as Freya threw her head back and screamed.
The bounty hunter dropped the shackles and the knights backed away as the beautiful girl transformed into a terrifying monster.
Arthur didn’t move, too busy fighting with himself. Just as he had come to terms with the idea of saving the girl and killing the beast, he was faced with something new.
Freya’s monster lunged forward, easily slaughtering her previous captor.
Left without a choice, Arthur sprung into action and ordered his men to fight. He drew his sword and struck out with it, cutting a gash into the creature’s arm.
At the wound, the beast took off in the other direction, and Morgana sighed. If Freya left, this would be over, and everyone would be safe. But no sooner had the thought appeared in her mind that it was dashed. The knights followed the creature, cornering her against a wall.
The creature could easily fend off the men at first, batting them aside like dolls and flying over their heads. However, she was weakened and scared, and Morgana knew how this could end.
Morgana started running towards the melee, tearing her skirts to tatters across the stones.
The majority of the men had been detained by the beast, but Arthur carried on; his sense of duty stronger than anything else. He attacked the beast, sprinting towards it with his sword held high. He cut at it, but his sword found no purchase, and then unexpectedly, the beast’s talons were lodged in his chest, lifting him from the ground.
Morgana screamed at the top of her lungs.
As Arthur dangled there from the end of the beast’s paw, he could hear the faint sound of Morgana’s wail. He felt as if the air rippled around him and the earth shook, and then he was back on the ground. He fell to his knees, clutching at his chest. In a sluggish movement, he lifted his head and searched for the beast. He found it thirty paces away, crushed against the far wall. Craning his neck, he saw Morgana standing there, her chest heaving from exertion and her hands shaking with tremors.
A mournful cry passed her lips as she stared over at the beast’s broken body. She lifted her quivering hands up and stared at them in awe and disbelief.
Arthur could plainly see her falling into the deep expanse of grief and called out to her. “Morgana.”
The sound of Arthur’s voice broke the trance, and Morgana snapped her head back around to stare at her fallen prince. She darted over to him and carefully lifted him up off the ground. Focusing her mind on helping Arthur, she wrapped one of his arms around her shoulder to help him stand.
As they hobbled inside of the castle, Arthur whispered, “Thank you.”
---
Morgana was struggling to breathe, the aftershocks of the magic still racking through her body. Along with that was the guilt, and the horrifying truth that she was capable of greater things than she had ever anticipated.
Pushing all of that down, she forced herself to help bandage the wounded knights. Camelot was safe, and so was Arthur. She couldn’t focus on anything else.
She was busy dipping rags in an antiseptic when she felt the weight of a warm hand on the back of her neck.
“Think you could patch me up?”
Morgana nodded, keeping her eyes down as Arthur made his way around to sit on the edge of the table in front of her.
He noticed her meek display and despised the sight of it down to his core. Morgana was bright and uncontrollable, but something out in the square had stolen that, leaving her cold.
She picked up a clean rag and dabbed it at Arthur’s wounds, the sight of the gashes churning her stomach. The contrast of his smooth skin against the garish marks made her dizzy, and she lost her concentration. Her fingers began to trail down his chest, unable to resist the pull of his warmth.
Arthur gently caught her fingers in his hand, and with it caught her attention. “Morgana. You are not to blame. You saved my life.”
Her green eyes searched his for some sort of answers, not unlike his own quest a day before. She whispered, “She was like me. And I killed her.”
Arthur shook his head, clutching her fingers tighter against his palm. “No. Maybe the girl was like you, but there was a beast that took hold of her, and whether she wanted it or not, it made her darker. It made her a monster. You had no choice.”
“There’s always a choice, Arthur,” she murmured.
“Perhaps. But it will never be easy. It’s grey, remember? There is no obvious decision to make. We trust our hearts, and do what we must.”
She nodded numbly, a tear trailing across her cheek. “Maybe that monster is in all of us.”
Using his hold on her hand, he yanked her sharply forward until their noses nearly touched. He whispered fiercely, “Not you. I won’t lose you to the dark, Morgana. I won’t.”
She shuddered from the force of his resolve. There was no denying his conviction, however, so she replied, “You either.”
He smiled at her across the gap between them before leaning back. “Good.” He gradually released her hand, letting her fingers remain upon his skin for as long as possible.
The guilt was still seeded deep into her soul, but she felt better knowing that Arthur wouldn’t let it devour her. At least not today.
---
After the men had been healed and taken away, Morgana made her way to find Merlin. He had been missing from the commotion, and she knew clearly where he would have gone. According to several guards, the beast had mysteriously vanished after the fight. Morgana prayed that perhaps she had not killed the girl after all.
She opened the door to Merlin’s room quietly. He was curled up on his bed, and the sight was not a pleasant sign. Morgana took a deep breath, steeling herself. “Merlin.”
He looked up at her, his eyes overwhelmed with sorrow. His mouth was drawn in a hard line, however, and there was a hint of malice in his stare.
On a rush, she apologized, “I am so sorry. I never intended to harm her.”
Merlin sat up to better look at his visitor, but didn’t say a word.
“I don’t know what came over me. She was going to kill Arthur, I had to stop her.” At his deliberate silence, she began to wring her hands.
Finally, he muttered, “I trusted you, Morgana. I helped you with your magic. And you murdered her with it.”
The words bit into her as they settled across her ears. Forcing herself to stay strong, she continued, her tone hardened by his anger, “I warned you that she would harm him, but you paid me no heed. You are just as much to blame.”
Merlin glared at her, too consumed by his pain to comprehend Morgana’s sincere regret. “Get out.”
She took a step back, indulging his request. As she turned the knob on the door, she repeated, “I truly am sorry.”
Once outside the door, Morgana could hear the faint sobs through the wood. She bit down on her bottom lip and hurried back to her own chambers.
---
In the following days, Merlin kept Morgana at a distance. Morgana allowed him to grieve, especially since she needed to do the same. She started to accept that she had done the right thing by saving Arthur, and she felt better, but it was difficult.
Arthur wanted to talk to her, but waited until he knew that she was doing better. Later that week, he noticed an exchange between Merlin and Morgana. Merlin smiled over at her, and in return Morgana lit up like a spark. Arthur was unaware of the reasoning behind it, but he knew that Morgana was close to being back to herself.
After finally getting something other than a glower from Merlin, Morgana started to hope for the future again. She knew he didn’t completely trust her, but he didn’t despise her either, which was a start.
---
Once Morgana was feeling better, Arthur went to see her, needing to discuss something that had been weighing on his mind.
She had just finished bathing and was brushing her hair when Arthur came in her room. She was accustomed to his lack of manners, so she simply allowed him to come in without asking. “Good evening, Arthur.”
He decided to just come out with it, since he may never say it otherwise. “Morgana, you said something before, and it… it made me think.”
Morgana chuckled, “Well that’s a feat.”
Briefly scowling at her, he explained, “You said that what happened between us, that it meant nothing.”
She was surprised that he would bring this up, since she thought they had laid it to rest. Knowing there was no good way to respond to him, she simply nodded in reply.
“You were wrong.”
The shock must have been evident on her face, but she could not stop it. “Arthur, what-”
“Look, I don’t know what it means, Morgana. But I know that it meant something.” He ran his fingers through his hair, effectively mussing it in his anxiousness. Before he lost his nerve, or Morgana ruined it all, he added, “It wasn’t just because I needed someone. It was because it was you.”
Morgana gaped at him, desperately trying to find something to say in return. Part of her wanted to tell him that he was wrong, to put a stop to all of it, but she sat there, unable to speak at all.
He was uncharacteristically nervous, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “I just thought you should know.” He backed up, accidentally knocking into a table.
She closed her mouth and smiled at him, hoping she could convey her feelings well enough without words.
Arthur smiled back before coughing again. “Well, I’ll let you finish brushing your hair and all.” He smiled once more and ducked out into the hall.
Morgana had no idea what all this meant, but hopefully if things were about to change, it was for the better.
Next Chapter
Fandom: Merlin
Characters/Pairings: Arthur/Morgana, any and all other characters
Word Count: 5,141
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own any of this stuff, because if I did ArMor would be canon.
Spoilers: Vague spoilers for all of Merlin series 2
Summary: Perhaps there was another way, if only it had gone a little different at the start. How it should've been, aka Series 2 the proper way.
Author's Notes: The finale crushed my heart and I haven't even watched yet, so have some fix-it fic. IT COULD'VE BEEN SO MUCH BETTER DAMN IT. Oh, and Merry Christmas!
Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6
---
The aftermath of Morgause’s challenge and what followed left Arthur a shell of who he was. For weeks, he shut himself away, barely speaking or eating. He even turned Morgana away most days, and when he did see her, it wasn’t the same. He was grieving for so much, his mother, his relationship with his father, his sense of self. Morgana wanted to fix it, but only time would help him heal.
Uther was struggling as well, not that Morgana cared. The king had half-heartedly thanked her for intervening and saving his life, but she told him quite plainly that it had only been for Arthur’s sake.
Eventually, Uther realized that he had to take steps to get his son to forgive him, but he never was good at showing remorse. He went to see Arthur, posting guards at the door in case it became violent. At the sight of his son staring emptily out the window, he found himself saying, “You have every right to hate me, Arthur.”
Arthur continued to stare, unmoved by his father’s statement.
“I know that you may never trust me again, but believe me when I tell you that I never wanted to harm your mother. The things I did…” He exhaled a shaky breath, struggling to explain himself. “It was wrong. I know that. It was a foolish mistake. My desire to have a son blinded me to what I knew to be true: that sorcery was and always will be dangerous. And my lapse in judgment cost me your mother.”
Arthur was listening intently, but he couldn’t string any of his thoughts together to form words.
“Hate me all you want, but do not let your hatred trick you into believing that sorcery can be used for good. My crusade against magic isn’t because of my guilt, Arthur. The fact that it took your mother only opened my eyes to its true nature.” Desperately trying to convey his point, he hissed, “It is pure evil.”
At that, a dry, humorless laugh escaped Arthur’s lips. “You’re wrong.”
Uther scowled, disappointed in his son. “Just remember, Arthur, whether or not you wish to think of me as your father, I am still your king.”
Arthur finally turned his head away from the window and assessed his father, finding the man looking considerably older than he had in the weeks before.
His kingly manner now fully in place, Uther continued, “While you live under my command, you will follow my orders. If you still wish to someday be the King of Camelot, it would be wise for you to show me some respect.”
The anger bubbled up under the surface, the first real emotion he had felt in days. He ground his teeth together to keep from screaming. When he finally spoke, it was a harsh, gravelly sound. “Understood.” He faced the window again, wordlessly dismissing his father.
Uther left, accepting that the feud was over. His son may despise him, but Arthur would still abide his rule, and that was all that mattered.
---
Arthur slowly started functioning after that visit, albeit begrudgingly. He still disagreed with most of the decisions his father made, but he knew that he had a duty to Camelot and could not abandon them for his own petty personal reasons. He started to fall back into normal routines, which included Morgana stopping by more frequently. She hadn’t pried, but he knew she was curious about what had transpired between him and Morgause. As she stopped by for what was becoming her daily visit, he decided to tell her the whole story.
Morgana was curled up in a chair with her feet tucked up under her legs and a blanket around her shoulders. The sun had gone down since they had first started talking and she had grown cold.
Arthur had been pacing the room as he started the story, but by the end he settled into a chair as well.
After Arthur explained what had happened that day, Morgana found herself asking, “What was she like? Your mother.”
A sad smile ghosted across his lips. “She was beautiful,” he murmured. “So gentle and warm. Better than my imagination.”
Morgana smiled at that. “I wish I could’ve seen her.”
Arthur nodded, feeling brighter at the small memory of his mother, “I think she would’ve liked you.”
She grinned wider, brushing off the obvious compliment. “Well, everyone loves me.”
Arthur shook his head, chuckling to himself. “Yes, I can see why.”
Laughing lightly, Morgana unfurled one leg and reached over to nudge his thigh with her foot. When he met her eyes, she smiled sincerely at him. “I’m glad you got to see her, Arthur. At least now you have a clear picture of her when you close your eyes.”
He hummed in agreement, happy for that as well.
After a few minutes, they fell into a silence that would normally be comfortable, but there was something heavy hanging in the air, and they both knew it. During these past weeks, Arthur had been so despondent and Morgana so focused on fixing him that neither had thought to bring up the kiss they had shared.
Morgana knew that the kiss had been in desperation; it was Arthur’s way of coping, and she refused to read more into it. His whole world had been ripped away, and she had been the only thing left for him to cling to, that was all.
The silence grew deafening, and Arthur eventually had to speak. “Morgana… about, you know, what happened with us-”
Although she had wanted him to bring it up before, she suddenly was terrified of the prospect of Arthur rejecting her. Unwilling to let him ruin whatever it was they had, she didn’t give him the chance to finish. “Arthur, it’s fine.”
His mouth snapped shut mid-word and he narrowed his eyes at her, unsure of where this was heading. “Fine?” he questioned.
She spit out the line she had been rehearsing in her head. “You were upset and I was there. It didn’t mean anything.” She shrugged her shoulders to express her feigned nonchalance.
Arthur struggled with her comment, trying to figure out whether or not it bothered him. His forehead creased in confusion and he had to swallow past the newly formed lump in his throat. Eventually he nodded and spoke, forcing a chipper tone. “Right then. Glad that’s settled.”
Morgana nodded in return, feeling slightly uncomfortable under his piercing gaze. She threw off the blanket and stretched out her legs before standing. “It’s late. I should go.” Part of her hoped he would stop her, but he said nothing as she walked out the door.
---
Arthur slowly began to find a way to work alongside with his father, but news of the druid girl’s escape made things difficult. Arthur was content to let the girl go, but it was his duty to lead his men and to find and eliminate any threats to Camelot. A simple girl seemed harmless to him, but the bounty hunter swore that she was dangerous and Uther demanded that she be found.
The bounty hunter even tried interrogating Merlin, but Arthur quickly put a stop to it. He may not be able to stop the search for the girl, but he would not stand idly by and watch his friends be harassed for crimes they didn’t commit.
Thankfully the focus on the girl was soon usurped by the news of several murders in the lower town. Arthur went to investigate and determined that they must have been an animal attack. When there were no tracks to be found, however, Uther’s mind immediately went to sorcery.
Arthur knew that magic could be used for evil, he had seen it, but all the revelations in his life recently made it difficult to rectify his past beliefs with his new ones. He needed Morgana and her level head for guidance on this, but he was reluctant to seek her out, knowing her personal investment in the problem.
Forcing himself to find a way on his own, he resolved to protect his people, no matter what that might entail.
---
Morgana was readying herself for dinner when she heard her door open. Whoever it was came in quietly, and it made Morgana apprehensive. She caught the noise of rustling in her closet and immediately stepped out from behind the screen, ready to fight her intruder. The man was bent over searching through her dresses and Morgana grabbed one of her shoes to throw if necessary. She poised to attack, holding up the shoe, when suddenly the man turned around.
Incredulously, Morgana asked, “Merlin?”
He started at the sound, dropping the dress he was holding. “Oh, Lady Morgana. I didn’t know you were in here.”
She raised an eyebrow at him quizzically. “What are you doing in my closet?”
Stammering, he tried to think of a plausible excuse. “Um, well, I was just… there are moths you know, I wanted to check to see-”
Morgana saw right through him and cut off his blabbering. “Merlin, don’t make me throw this shoe at you.”
His skin flushed pink, knowing that he had been caught. “Look, Morgana…”
“I want the truth, Merlin. Unless you want me to tell Arthur that you’ve been sneaking around in my chambers?” She knew Arthur was scarier than her shoe, at any rate.
Sighing, he admitted, “I need one of your dresses.”
“Please tell me it’s not for Arthur,” she deadpanned.
Merlin shook his head, trying not to laugh. “It’s for… it’s for a friend.”
“And your friend doesn’t have dresses of her own?”
Realizing that Morgana would understand better than anyone else, he gave up all pretenses of being cryptic. “Morgana, it’s for the druid girl.”
Morgana slowly set down the shoe on her end-table. “You know where she is?”
Merlin nodded. “I need to help her escape the city. She’s a good person, Morgana. She doesn’t deserve this.”
Morgana understood completely. “Of course.” She walked over to stand beside him and bent down to look through the mess he had made, searching her closet for things that would help. She pulled out a purple dressing gown and a pair of shoes to match. “Here, these should work.” As Merlin assessed the dress, she explained, “The hem isn’t too long so she won’t trip if she has to run.”
He smiled graciously at her, thankful for her understanding. “I appreciate it, Morgana. I won’t forget this.”
His tone sounded rather final, but Morgana decided not to question it. “Do you need any other help? I’m sure I could get some horses, or food-”
“We’ll be fine. Thank you for the clothes, though. I know Freya will be grateful as well.” There was no hiding the glee on his face as he spoke the girl’s name, and Morgana noticed.
“Freya?” Morgana inquired. “You seem quite fond of this girl, Merlin.”
He smiled sheepishly, but didn’t deny it.
Morgana shook her head, amused by his clear infatuation. “Go on, then. I’m sure she’s waiting.”
He gave her one last smile before slipping out of her chambers into the hall. As he rounded a corner, he collided with something hard. As he looked up, he saw that it was Arthur’s chest. “Arthur!” he squeaked. He immediately tried to hide the dress from view.
Merlin’s attempts were unsuccessful, however, and Arthur eyed him suspiciously. “Merlin…” He reached forward and grabbed the dress to inspect it. “Is this Morgana’s dress?”
“Uh, yes,” he admitted.
Arthur was clearly not pleased. “And why do you have it?”
His mouth was quicker than his brain, and he blurted, “The Lady Morgana gave it to me.”
The prince’s brow furrowed, still convinced that something was amiss. “And why would she do that?”
Clinging to his earlier attempt at an excuse, he exclaimed, “Moths!”
“Moths.” Arthur restated the word, looking for a further explanation.
“Yes. They infested her closet. She asked me to take this dress and-- and burn it.” He grinned stupidly, hoping that his lie was sufficient.
Fed up with the conversation, Arthur blew out a breath and shook his head. “Whatever you say, Merlin.”
Merlin pulled the dress back from Arthur’s fingers and took off down the hall.
---
The beast had started killing more, and everyone was growing worried. Gaius was searching for the name of the creature, but other than that, no one knew anything other than the brief whisperings of scared townspeople.
Morgana knew it was taking a toll on Arthur to hunt for this beast, especially under his father’s command, but she didn’t want to push. Normally she would give him advice whether he wanted it or not, but he was still at a fragile stage. So she waited.
Thankfully, her patience was rewarded, because late in the night, there was a knock at her door. She slipped out of bed and opened the door a crack, finding Arthur standing there.
He rubbed at the back of his head nervously, regretting his decision all of a sudden. “Sorry, I know it’s late.”
She shook her head to show that it was fine and opened the door to let him in. Her room was dark save for the window, but thankfully it was a full moon and the light was enough so they could see. “Is everything alright, Arthur?”
He sighed deeply and lowered himself to sit on her bed. “I need you to show me.”
Morgana cocked her head at him, not comprehending his request.
He continued, “I need to see it-- to know that it’s not all bad. I know that if it’s in you, it must be something good and pure, but I…” he trailed off, unable to explain it any further.
She smiled at him, understanding. “You want to see my magic.”
“It’s hard, Morgana. My whole life, magic was evil, and then there’s you. But there’s the beast as well, and I just...”
She sat down next to him, shushing him gently. “I know.” She exhaled a slow breath, feeling the weight of the same burden. “It’s not all black and white, Arthur. I struggled with this same thing when I learned of my magic.”
He looked at her, the clear plea for a sense of clarity in his eyes.
Morgana went on, “It’s the people who are evil, magic or no magic.”
Stiffly, he nodded. He understood that, but a battle continued to rage inside him. Quietly, he pressed, “Still, could I, perhaps?”
A slight smile quirked at the edge of her lips and she reached over to her bedside table. There was a candlestick sitting there unlit, and she almost grabbed it before stopping and pulling her hand back. The power of the fire scared even her, and she wanted to assuage his fears, not increase them. Settling back onto the bed, she decided on something else. She looked over at him and bashfully admitted, “This might not work. I’m not very good at this yet.”
The simple thought of Morgana struggling to do anything seemed to ease the tightness around his heart.
She clasped her hands together and stared down at them intently. She whispered an incantation under her breath and her eyes glowed gold.
Arthur was unnerved by the sight of her eyes, but he didn’t move from her side.
Morgana let out a breath and opened her hands, hoping it had worked. Seeing what was in her hands, she smiled to herself at her success. She cautiously brought her cupped hands over to Arthur, showing him what was there.
A small smile appeared on his lips and he reached into her hands to pick up what she had created. “A flower? This is difficult for you?” The insult rolled easily off his tongue.
It didn’t sting, however, since Morgana knew it was a good sign that he was feeling lighter. “Let’s see you conjure something out of thin air, Arthur; then you can make jokes.”
He chuckled, knowing she had a point. He pinched the small white flower between his fingers and brought it up to Morgana’s eye level. He reached over and tucked it behind her ear, pushing her hair out of the way so that the flower was visible. “There.”
The gesture was sweet, and Morgana found herself grinning.
The sight of her, happy and glowing, with a flower in her hair reminded him that everything had a light side, if you looked hard enough. Magic included. “Do think slaying this beast is the right thing to do?” he asked.
The question gave her pause. “Arthur, I know that you want to be trusting of magic, but there is a line that must be drawn. This creature, it is killing people. I do not condone mindless killing of those with magic, but that is true of both sides. If this creature is hurting people, it should be stopped.”
He ducked his head and stared down at his lap. “I know. But sometimes I just think, if it were you…”
“If it were me, I’d want you to stop me, Arthur.”
The thought of hurting Morgana made him feel physically ill, but he understood her point. “Thank you.”
Smiling softly at him, she advised, “Trust your heart, Arthur. You’ll know what is right.”
---
As Morgana slept later that night, she began to dream. Ever since she had hidden Morgause’s bracelet, her nightmares had come back full force. The images consumed her unconscious mind, causing her to see terrible things that may come to pass.
Flashes of a terrifying monster with the body of a cat and wings of a bird went through her head. The creature was attacking the city, its teeth and claws bared. Arthur was there, in the square, preparing to fight. Another flash and the square was stained with red. The creature had delved its talons deep into Arthur’s chest and tore his heart out of his body, leaving his lifeless form to fall to the stones below.
Morgana thrashed in her sleep, tears streaming down her cheeks. She saw a final image, the creature slinking into the shadows and transforming into a girl about her age. The girl had brown hair and kind eyes, and… was wearing Morgana’s purple dress.
Finally escaping the horrible nightmare, Morgana shot straight up in bed, the terrified scream caught in her throat. Her chest heaved from fear and exhaustion and her nightgown was soaked from sweat. Before she could stop herself, she threw on a fur stole and a pair of shoes and ran towards Gaius’s chambers.
She burst into Merlin’s room, finding him there packing his things. “Merlin!” she cried out.
At the sound of her frantic voice, he whipped his head up to look at her.
“It’s Freya,” she breathed. “She’s the beast.” Morgana had taken a hold of his sleeve and was grasping onto him desperately, the terror of her nightmare still fresh.
He shook his head, vehemently denying the accusation. “No, Morgana.”
“I saw it, Merlin! If we don’t stop her, she’s going to kill Arthur.” Her eyes were hollow and distant, but there was no mistaking the truth hidden there. “Please,” she pleaded. “Is this worth Arthur’s life?”
Merlin shoved her off, unable to face reality. He barreled out of the quarters with his things and went to find Freya.
As he left, Morgana covered her face with her hands, holding in the tidal wave of emotion that threatened to swallow her whole.
---
In the hours just before dawn, after Morgana left Gaius’s chambers, she heard the warning bells go off. She knew what it meant, and she took off running towards the square. Her dream was coming true sooner than she had expected.
As she exited the castle, the cool air blasted against her face and made her wrap her stole tighter around her shoulders. The moon peeked out from behind the clouds, illuminating the walls of the castle that loomed above her.
Out in the center of the square, a group of knights came pouring in, cornering a young girl. The girl begged them not to hurt her, and even from yards away, Morgana could feel Arthur’s distress.
Arthur stepped forward slowly, an offer to keep her safe frozen on his tongue. Before he could manage to say anything, the bounty hunter pushed past him, shackles at the ready.
Freya was on the brink of tears. “Please.”
Suddenly, the clock tolled loudly, echoing off the cobblestones. Morgana watched with baited breath as Freya threw her head back and screamed.
The bounty hunter dropped the shackles and the knights backed away as the beautiful girl transformed into a terrifying monster.
Arthur didn’t move, too busy fighting with himself. Just as he had come to terms with the idea of saving the girl and killing the beast, he was faced with something new.
Freya’s monster lunged forward, easily slaughtering her previous captor.
Left without a choice, Arthur sprung into action and ordered his men to fight. He drew his sword and struck out with it, cutting a gash into the creature’s arm.
At the wound, the beast took off in the other direction, and Morgana sighed. If Freya left, this would be over, and everyone would be safe. But no sooner had the thought appeared in her mind that it was dashed. The knights followed the creature, cornering her against a wall.
The creature could easily fend off the men at first, batting them aside like dolls and flying over their heads. However, she was weakened and scared, and Morgana knew how this could end.
Morgana started running towards the melee, tearing her skirts to tatters across the stones.
The majority of the men had been detained by the beast, but Arthur carried on; his sense of duty stronger than anything else. He attacked the beast, sprinting towards it with his sword held high. He cut at it, but his sword found no purchase, and then unexpectedly, the beast’s talons were lodged in his chest, lifting him from the ground.
Morgana screamed at the top of her lungs.
As Arthur dangled there from the end of the beast’s paw, he could hear the faint sound of Morgana’s wail. He felt as if the air rippled around him and the earth shook, and then he was back on the ground. He fell to his knees, clutching at his chest. In a sluggish movement, he lifted his head and searched for the beast. He found it thirty paces away, crushed against the far wall. Craning his neck, he saw Morgana standing there, her chest heaving from exertion and her hands shaking with tremors.
A mournful cry passed her lips as she stared over at the beast’s broken body. She lifted her quivering hands up and stared at them in awe and disbelief.
Arthur could plainly see her falling into the deep expanse of grief and called out to her. “Morgana.”
The sound of Arthur’s voice broke the trance, and Morgana snapped her head back around to stare at her fallen prince. She darted over to him and carefully lifted him up off the ground. Focusing her mind on helping Arthur, she wrapped one of his arms around her shoulder to help him stand.
As they hobbled inside of the castle, Arthur whispered, “Thank you.”
---
Morgana was struggling to breathe, the aftershocks of the magic still racking through her body. Along with that was the guilt, and the horrifying truth that she was capable of greater things than she had ever anticipated.
Pushing all of that down, she forced herself to help bandage the wounded knights. Camelot was safe, and so was Arthur. She couldn’t focus on anything else.
She was busy dipping rags in an antiseptic when she felt the weight of a warm hand on the back of her neck.
“Think you could patch me up?”
Morgana nodded, keeping her eyes down as Arthur made his way around to sit on the edge of the table in front of her.
He noticed her meek display and despised the sight of it down to his core. Morgana was bright and uncontrollable, but something out in the square had stolen that, leaving her cold.
She picked up a clean rag and dabbed it at Arthur’s wounds, the sight of the gashes churning her stomach. The contrast of his smooth skin against the garish marks made her dizzy, and she lost her concentration. Her fingers began to trail down his chest, unable to resist the pull of his warmth.
Arthur gently caught her fingers in his hand, and with it caught her attention. “Morgana. You are not to blame. You saved my life.”
Her green eyes searched his for some sort of answers, not unlike his own quest a day before. She whispered, “She was like me. And I killed her.”
Arthur shook his head, clutching her fingers tighter against his palm. “No. Maybe the girl was like you, but there was a beast that took hold of her, and whether she wanted it or not, it made her darker. It made her a monster. You had no choice.”
“There’s always a choice, Arthur,” she murmured.
“Perhaps. But it will never be easy. It’s grey, remember? There is no obvious decision to make. We trust our hearts, and do what we must.”
She nodded numbly, a tear trailing across her cheek. “Maybe that monster is in all of us.”
Using his hold on her hand, he yanked her sharply forward until their noses nearly touched. He whispered fiercely, “Not you. I won’t lose you to the dark, Morgana. I won’t.”
She shuddered from the force of his resolve. There was no denying his conviction, however, so she replied, “You either.”
He smiled at her across the gap between them before leaning back. “Good.” He gradually released her hand, letting her fingers remain upon his skin for as long as possible.
The guilt was still seeded deep into her soul, but she felt better knowing that Arthur wouldn’t let it devour her. At least not today.
---
After the men had been healed and taken away, Morgana made her way to find Merlin. He had been missing from the commotion, and she knew clearly where he would have gone. According to several guards, the beast had mysteriously vanished after the fight. Morgana prayed that perhaps she had not killed the girl after all.
She opened the door to Merlin’s room quietly. He was curled up on his bed, and the sight was not a pleasant sign. Morgana took a deep breath, steeling herself. “Merlin.”
He looked up at her, his eyes overwhelmed with sorrow. His mouth was drawn in a hard line, however, and there was a hint of malice in his stare.
On a rush, she apologized, “I am so sorry. I never intended to harm her.”
Merlin sat up to better look at his visitor, but didn’t say a word.
“I don’t know what came over me. She was going to kill Arthur, I had to stop her.” At his deliberate silence, she began to wring her hands.
Finally, he muttered, “I trusted you, Morgana. I helped you with your magic. And you murdered her with it.”
The words bit into her as they settled across her ears. Forcing herself to stay strong, she continued, her tone hardened by his anger, “I warned you that she would harm him, but you paid me no heed. You are just as much to blame.”
Merlin glared at her, too consumed by his pain to comprehend Morgana’s sincere regret. “Get out.”
She took a step back, indulging his request. As she turned the knob on the door, she repeated, “I truly am sorry.”
Once outside the door, Morgana could hear the faint sobs through the wood. She bit down on her bottom lip and hurried back to her own chambers.
---
In the following days, Merlin kept Morgana at a distance. Morgana allowed him to grieve, especially since she needed to do the same. She started to accept that she had done the right thing by saving Arthur, and she felt better, but it was difficult.
Arthur wanted to talk to her, but waited until he knew that she was doing better. Later that week, he noticed an exchange between Merlin and Morgana. Merlin smiled over at her, and in return Morgana lit up like a spark. Arthur was unaware of the reasoning behind it, but he knew that Morgana was close to being back to herself.
After finally getting something other than a glower from Merlin, Morgana started to hope for the future again. She knew he didn’t completely trust her, but he didn’t despise her either, which was a start.
---
Once Morgana was feeling better, Arthur went to see her, needing to discuss something that had been weighing on his mind.
She had just finished bathing and was brushing her hair when Arthur came in her room. She was accustomed to his lack of manners, so she simply allowed him to come in without asking. “Good evening, Arthur.”
He decided to just come out with it, since he may never say it otherwise. “Morgana, you said something before, and it… it made me think.”
Morgana chuckled, “Well that’s a feat.”
Briefly scowling at her, he explained, “You said that what happened between us, that it meant nothing.”
She was surprised that he would bring this up, since she thought they had laid it to rest. Knowing there was no good way to respond to him, she simply nodded in reply.
“You were wrong.”
The shock must have been evident on her face, but she could not stop it. “Arthur, what-”
“Look, I don’t know what it means, Morgana. But I know that it meant something.” He ran his fingers through his hair, effectively mussing it in his anxiousness. Before he lost his nerve, or Morgana ruined it all, he added, “It wasn’t just because I needed someone. It was because it was you.”
Morgana gaped at him, desperately trying to find something to say in return. Part of her wanted to tell him that he was wrong, to put a stop to all of it, but she sat there, unable to speak at all.
He was uncharacteristically nervous, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “I just thought you should know.” He backed up, accidentally knocking into a table.
She closed her mouth and smiled at him, hoping she could convey her feelings well enough without words.
Arthur smiled back before coughing again. “Well, I’ll let you finish brushing your hair and all.” He smiled once more and ducked out into the hall.
Morgana had no idea what all this meant, but hopefully if things were about to change, it was for the better.
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