the stars are crying (for what we could have had) (8/13) Part 1
Title: the stars are crying (for what we could have had) (8/13)
Fandom: Merlin
Characters/Pairings: Arthur/Morgana, any and all other characters
Word Count: 12,985
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 3
Summary: (The sequel to "you and i are a story that never gets told") This is season 3, the way it should've been. Arthur has lost Morgana, and he is struggling to move on without her. Morgana is learning to master her powers with the help of her sister, but she can't stay away from Camelot forever... Once you set things into motion, everything can change.
Author's Notes: So it took me a month to get this chapter done, but hey, it's 13,000 words. Also, I had to split it into two parts because it was so long.
Previous Installment: you and i are a story that never gets told
Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6
---
After discovering Morgana’s betrayal, it took Arthur several weeks to process the information, his heart torn in several directions. He wanted to be angry, to make Morgana feel the same pain he felt when he found out, but it wasn’t working like he planned. He was finding that it was immensely difficult to stay angry at Morgana when he was so ridiculously in love with her. It was especially trying when she would wear his favorite dresses or pin her hair up in messy buns, with tendrils of hair falling out and tickling the base of her neck. It made his fingers itch to touch her-to trace the veins under her skin, to get tangled in her curls-and his anger would be lost in the back of his mind.
Morgana would constantly hover in his space, leaning too close to whisper something in his ear, intimately brushing her fingers along his collar; all of it leaving his head in a lavender-scented fog. He was fairly certain that Morgana knew exactly what she was doing, too. She told him that she wanted to make it all up to him, that she would do anything to fix things between them. Of course, that only resulted in him kissing her again-which he really needed to stop doing, it was seriously distracting. He had yet to forgive her though, and the more he held off, the worse Morgana’s teasing became.
After dinner one night, she swept past him, her hand trailing across his arm and leaving a trail of goose-bumps on his skin as she smiled at him. Arthur’s eyes rolled back, and he cursed low under his breath.
As Morgana knew he would, he followed her out into the hall, trailing on her heels. She stopped and spun to face him, nearly causing him to crash into her. She smirked at him. “Yes, Arthur?”
He clenched and unclenched his jaw, swallowing roughly. “This has to stop.”
Moving closer, Morgana lifted her hand, settling it over his collarbone. “What?” she asked, drawing her bottom lip into her mouth and releasing it slowly before smiling coquettishly at him.
Arthur grabbed at the hand she had laid on his chest, squeezing her fingers tightly. “You know what.”
Morgana grinned, stepping closer to him. She tipped her chin up, staring into his eyes. “Do I?”
Her breath tickled his throat as she talked, and he gulped, suppressing a shudder. “Morgana,” he warned, his voice heavy.
She lifted up on her toes, leaning her weight against his body for support. On an exhale, she brushed her lips over his, breathing into him.
The feather light touch of her mouth sliding over his made him throw his arm out and roughly take hold of her waist, though he didn’t push her away.
Morgana tipped her head to the side, tinkling laughter passing through her lips. “Really, Arthur, you’re too easy.”
A rumbling noise that sounded faintly like a growl reverberated through Arthur’s chest.
Morgana pursed her lips, cocking her head as she studied his ever-darkening eyes. “I’ll try to stop if you quit ignoring me.”
“Try?” he asked, the word sticking on his tongue.
With a vicious grin, she rose up again and caught his bottom lip between her teeth, pulling it into her mouth as she kissed him hungrily. She ran her hand up his chest, sliding it over the back of his shoulders and resting it there, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. As she released him from her teeth, she soothed the bite marks with her tongue and stepped back, letting him breathe. “I can only do so much.”
Arthur sighed. “Are you going to do this every time I’m mad at you?”
Shrugging, she quipped, “As far as punishments go, I think this one is fairly lenient.”
His hand twitched where it was resting against her waist, his fingers splaying across her hipbone. “You don’t fight fair,” he grumbled. “I had every reason to be upset, and you know it.”
With her cocky attitude waning, she nodded slowly, averting her eyes from his gaze. “I suppose you did.” She truly did feel terrible about hurting him, but she couldn’t stand it when he ignored her, especially now, after going for so long without him. It brought out the childish side of her.
Arthur started rubbing small circles on her side with his fingers. “But anger aside, I think I understand things now. I may not agree with it, but you were trying to do what you thought was right. Sometimes we make the wrong choices; I know that better than most.”
Morgana looked up at him, her eyes shining brightly. “Does this mean you forgive me?”
The hand he had on her hip moved up to her back, pulling her closer. “It means I love you,” he murmured. “And no matter what idiotic stunts you pull, that’s never going to change.” With a smirk, he added, “Not even if I wanted it to.”
Morgana tried to shove at him, but he held her tightly in his arms, leaning down to kiss her gently. As he broke the kiss, Morgana remembered that they were standing in the middle of the hall. Whispering against the skin of his cheek, Morgana asked, “Why don’t you come to my chambers for a while?”
Arthur smiled at her across the close space, wishing he could say yes. “I can’t. I have to decide upon my quest, remember?”
Morgana nodded, her nose brushing along his jaw as she moved. She hummed thoughtfully, commenting, “For once you’ll be the one staying up all night because of visions in your head.”
He chuckled, dropping his hands from where they held her body.
As they moved apart, Morgana asked, “Do you want me to wait with you?”
Arthur shook his head. “I’ll be fine.” He took another step back, tipping his head at her.
Smiling at him, Morgana let him go. She knew that visions were tricky things, and the one burden that she wouldn’t wish on anyone. This was a bit different than her dreams, and she understood how important it was to Arthur; yet still, it made her queasy to think of images invading his mind like they did hers.
Knowing that Arthur would be awake under her feet, Morgana stayed awake as well, staring at the ceiling in her room as the night passed.
---
After an entire night of kneeling in the throne room, Arthur was woken from his trance by his father. As he stood up from the floor, he announced that his quest would be to journey to the realm of the Fisher King, and to retrieve the king’s trident.
Uther was pleased by the announcement, but as news traveled, Morgana soon found out, and she was worried. Arthur’s journey would require him to cross the Perilous Lands, and she knew how treacherous they could be. The land wasn’t named for naught; many knights had journeyed there, never to return.
Morgana spent her day with Gwen in the market, picking out silks and gossamer fabrics for a new dress instead of dwelling on Arthur’s quest. He was busy the whole day preparing, and she knew he wouldn’t appreciate her fussing over him. She had found it was extremely easy to distract him if she truly wanted to; all it took was a flip of her hair, or a little half smile directed his way, and he’d quickly forget what he was doing. But this was important to him, so she gave him space for the day.
Gwen dragged Morgana through the town, both girls giggling and wrapping themselves up in swaths of fabric to amuse one another.
“How about this one?” Gwen asked as she wrapped a length of gauzy salmon colored fabric around her shoulders.
Morgana hummed, before replying, “It’s not quite my color. It looks great on you though, you should get it.”
Gwen blushed, sliding the cloth across her neck to remove it. “My lady, what would I do with it?”
“Use it for a dress, of course. You should be allowed to wear nice things from time to time, Gwen.”
Laughing self-consciously, Gwen set the fabric back down on the cart from which she had gotten it. “I have no use for fancy dresses; they aren’t exactly fitting for servants.”
Morgana waved her hand to show she disagreed. “Nonsense. You still have a life outside of being my servant, don’t you? What about when you want to impress a man?”
“Morgana-”
Morgana continued, “Not that you need fancy dresses to intrigue men; I’ve seen the way some of the knights look at you. And clearly you caught Arthur’s attention well enough.” She playfully smirked at her friend, narrowing her eyes pointedly.
Gwen shook her head, but there was a clear smile on her lips.
Shrugging, Morgana let Gwen lead her away from the cart, leaving the fabric. As they walked away, Morgana chirped, “I suppose you could always borrow one of my dresses anyways.”
The sound of Gwen’s bright laughter echoed through the market as they left.
---
As the moon rose in the sky, Morgana found that she no longer had anything to distract her from thinking about Arthur and his quest. Gwen had left for the night, and Morgana was in bed, trying to sleep, but it wasn’t working. She threw off the covers and got out of bed. Without bothering to put on something more than her nightgown, she slipped out into the hall and started walking to Arthur’s room.
When she reached her destination, she opened the door slowly, holding onto the edge of the wood and leaning forward, peering inside. The light from several candles flickered on the walls, and she knew Arthur was awake. She opened the door further, revealing him at the table, pouring over several maps and other papers.
He didn’t seem to register that she was there at first, so Morgana entered the room quietly, shutting the door behind her. Creeping up behind him, Morgana set her hands on his shoulders and leaned over to whisper in his ear, “Hard at work?”
Arthur flinched only slightly, Morgana’s presence was more comforting than startling. He reached up and rubbed his thumb along the back of one of her hands. “Preparing,” he mumbled. “All these maps say something different; it’s difficult to plan properly.”
“Want some help?” Morgana asked, leaning forward to look over his shoulder at the maps. He hadn’t been lying, there were at least five contradicting maps that she could see. “I could probably cast a locator spell to guide the way for you,” she offered.
Arthur chuckled, the vibrations of the action shaking through Morgana’s fingers. “As much as I’d like that, I’m afraid I have to decline. I’m supposed to do this quest alone.”
Morgana pouted. “Fine.” She tilted her head and lightly planted a kiss on the hollow of his cheek before standing up straight and stepping away from him, removing her hands from his shoulders. She moved around the corner of the table and sat in the chair at the end. After she was settled, she grabbed one of the maps and a quill, and then pulled the well of ink towards her. Studying the map for a moment, she set to work on fixing it. The places where the map looked incorrect, she marked over it with ink from the quill.
Arthur heard the scratching of the quill and looked up at her, an amused expression on his face. “Morgana.”
She continued to cross out portions of the map and redraw some of the landmarks, ignoring him.
“Morgana,” he echoed, slightly louder this time. “You really don’t understand the concept of me doing this alone, do you?”
The quill dropped from her fingers and she frowned at him. “These maps are atrocious; I was only trying to help.”
He laughed, shaking his head at her. “You don’t know the way to the Dark Tower any more than I do; you’re just scribbling.”
Huffing, Morgana shoved the map away. It was frustrating to worry about him and know that there was nothing she could do to help.
Reading her emotions, Arthur’s lips quirked up into a smile. “You’re worried about me.”
She chewed on her lip, not bothering to deny his claim. “This isn’t an ordinary mission, Arthur. What you’re planning to do has been attempted by other men, and no one has ever succeeded.”
“Yes, but they’re not me,” Arthur responded.
Morgana’s face dropped. “Arthur…”
“You don’t think I can do it?” he asked. He sounded hurt by the thought.
Morgana sighed. “I have every faith in you, Arthur. But the legends…” She had heard the tale of the Fisher King; there were rumors that he still lived to this day, his land cursed with the same dark magic that sustained him. The land itself had become a carnivorous creature, swallowing up men who would wander through.
As expected, Arthur wasn’t concerned. “The legends aren’t true, Morgana. They’re just stories.”
“But if they are true-” She reached out, taking his hand. “Magic like that, it’s dangerous.”
His demeanor softened, and he tried to comfort her, squeezing her hand. “I know, Morgana. I’ll be careful.”
“Sometimes I don’t think you know the meaning of the word,” she quipped.
He laughed, releasing her hand. “Perhaps. But I’ll be fine, Morgana. I can do this on my own.” He smiled at her before pulling the map she had taken back towards him.
As she took her hand back, Morgana stared down at her lap, watching her fingers twitch as she twisted them together nervously. She and Arthur had only just gotten back to a semi-normal relationship, and now he was going off on a potentially suicidal mission. It made her furious at this ridiculous ritual.
At Morgana’s silence, Arthur went back to his planning. Shuffling the papers on the table, Arthur looked over them with a grim expression. Letting out a breath, he started to work again, mapping out a route to take.
Sensing that he was trying to focus, Morgana stood up from the table. “I get it; you have to do this alone. I’ll leave you to your work.”
Arthur jumped up from the table, leaving the maps as he hurried to stop her. Catching her by the arm, he implored, “Wait. Stay.”
Morgana turned into him, smiling. “I thought I couldn’t help.”
He shook his head. “Just-be here with me. For a little while.” He was always better when she was with him; stronger, braver, capable of anything. “Please.”
She cupped his cheek with her hand, using it to pull him closer. Once he was near enough, she brushed her nose against his, leaning in and languorously kissing him for a moment. “Alright,” she murmured against his lips, “I’ll stay.”
Arthur went back to the table and his maps, and Morgana went over to the bed, curling up like a cat on top of the bedcovers. She propped her head up on her arm, watching him as he worked. After a while, her eyelids grew heavy, the calming sound of Arthur’s breathing lulling her into peaceful state. Her arm eventually slipped, her head coming to rest on the mattress as she fell asleep.
Arthur heard the sound of her arm hitting the bed, and he paused in his work. Rising from his chair, he grabbed a blanket and covered Morgana with it before returning to his seat. He worked into the early morning hours, periodically watching Morgana as she tossed around in her sleep.
---
Morgana woke up late the next morning, bleary eyed and groggy, but feeling well-rested. She rolled over, looking up at the canopy, and she recognized it as Arthur’s bed. She was facing the wrong end of the bed, with her feet hitting the headboard, but she had a blanket covering her and a pillow under her head; Arthur’s doing, she assumed.
As Morgana maneuvered herself to put her feet on the ground, she heard rustling off to her left. Her head snapped up, expecting to see Arthur. Instead, she caught sight of a telltale red scarf as Merlin scurried around Arthur’s room, looking awkward.
Morgana noticed that he was avoiding looking in her direction, so with a grin on her lips, she called out, “Merlin.”
Merlin slowed in his work and looked up at Morgana, a blush coloring his cheeks. He no longer knew how to act around Morgana; their friendship was so tenuous at this point. To find her in Arthur’s bed, in a nightdress… to say he was uncomfortable would be an understatement. “I’m sorry to have disturbed you, my lady, Arthur asked me not to wake you up-”
“It’s fine, Merlin. It’s nearly midday; I can’t stay in bed forever.” Standing from the bed, she walked over to Arthur’s armoire and rifled through his clothes. There was a slight chill on the air, and she hadn’t brought a cover with her. She pulled out a long, brown coat from the back of his armoire and slipped it on over her nightdress. As she tugged the coat around her body, a thought occurred to her. “Midday,” she repeated. She spun towards Merlin, her eyes wide. “Arthur, is he-?”
Merlin looked sheepish. “He’s about to leave.”
“That infuriating man,” Morgana grumbled. She grabbed a pair of Arthur’s boots and shoved her feet into them, even though they were several sizes too big. Inadvertently directing her anger at Merlin, she glared at the servant, her mouth set in a hard line. “I was supposed to see him off in the square, he knew that!”
“He didn’t want to wake you,” Merlin mumbled.
Morgana passed the window, catching her reflection in the glass. “I look a sight,” she groaned. She tied her hair up with a spare bit of ribbon, grumbling to herself under her breath. Turning to Merlin, she asked, “And what about you, aren’t you seeing him off?”
He held up a satchel. “I needed to get a few more things for his trip.”
Morgana huffed, annoyed with Merlin’s lack of impatience. She grabbed him by the front of his shirt, tugging him with her as she walked briskly to the door, her boots clunking with every step.
They made their way through the castle, only stopping when Merlin indicated that he needed to go fetch Arthur’s horse. Morgana released her hold on his shirt and sent him off to the stables. She continued on her way to the square, moving as quickly as she could manage in the large shoes. As she rounded the corner of the hall leading to the main castle doors, she saw the light glinting off of bright metal as the sun shone through the windows. Morgana immediately recognized it as the distinct silver of Arthur’s armor, and she started running towards him. She nearly tripped over her feet several times, and as she neared him, she launched herself forward, praying that he’d catch her before she fell.
Arthur turned just in time to see Morgana clomping down the hall, in his boots, no less. Her hair was spilling out around her face, and her white and gold nightgown was visible through the front gap in his brown coat. She barreled into him, and he caught her before she collided with his chest, sweeping her up into his arms.
Morgana threw her arms over his shoulders and knitted her hands together behind his neck, holding on tightly. Arthur lifted her off the ground, chuckling in amusement. As he held her, the too-large boots slipped off her feet and dropped to the stone floor with a dull thud.
With her face pressed against the bare skin of his neck, Morgana murmured, “I had to see you before you left.” As she spoke, puffs of her breath bounced off the bend of his shoulder, warming her face.
Arthur kissed the side of her head before readjusting her in his arms, pulling back so he could look at her face while still holding her. “I’m sorry; I couldn’t bear to wake you this morning. I thought you might have been up before I left, but you slept longer than I thought.”
Morgana glowered at him, but there was no real heat behind her stare. “Next time, wake me. I would’ve liked a few minutes to get dressed.”
Scanning her appearance once more, Arthur grinned. “I think you look nice.”
If her hands hadn’t been locked together around his neck, she would’ve hit him. She settled for a glare and a pout, which only made Arthur laugh.
“You know, this is the second time you’ve chased after me in your nightgown. I rather think we should make it a tradition.”
The memory of the first time she had come running after him made her frown, the thoughts of his near-death experience upsetting her.
As if reading her thoughts, Arthur leaned in and placed a soft peck of a kiss on her lips. He whispered, “I’ll be fine, Morgana.” He set her down on the floor then, carefully lowering her onto her toes.
Morgana looked up at him, her eyes shining as she begged, “Promise me you’ll come back.”
He smiled. “I’m coming back, Morgana.” His smile widened, turning into something more playful. “I couldn’t leave you now, obviously, not when you’re so clearly infatuated with me. You’d be lost without me.”
With her hands no longer hooked behind his neck, Morgana pushed at his shoulder. He absorbed the blow and swayed slightly, rocking on his heels, his grin never wavering. She couldn’t help but smile back at him, despite her fears. “I’ll see you soon,” she whispered.
Arthur nodded at her, his eyes staying on her as he turned and walked down the steps to the courtyard.
---
As Arthur left, Morgana watched from her window, tracking him until he disappeared over the hills outside the city. Once he was gone, Morgana summoned Gwen and got dressed properly. She ate a meal by herself, picking at the bits of bread and fruit on her plate. The food was fine, but she couldn’t seem to stomach anything. Arthur had promised to come home, but something about this trip was worrying her more than usual. Pushing it out of her mind, she forced down the rest of her food. When she finished, she went on with her day, busying herself around the castle.
She received a brief lecture from Uther when she saw him; he was displeased that she hadn’t come to bid Arthur goodbye. Morgana assured him that she had wished the prince luck, but in private. Uther’s eye twitched almost imperceptibly, his face clouding over with some unreadable emotion. He nodded and walked away, the coldness from his stare still lingering and chilling Morgana deep in her bones. The king may hide it well, but she knew what he truly thought of her. He didn’t trust her, and from his reaction, he didn’t approve of her closeness with his son either. But he didn’t have any reason to harm her, not yet, and Morgana only hoped that she could hold out long enough for Arthur’s reign.
She decided to take a walk around the gardens, needing the fresh air to clear her head. On her way, she noticed Merlin wandering the halls and smiled at him. He looked just as lost as she felt. “Missing Arthur already?” Morgana asked loudly, catching the boy’s attention.
Merlin stopped and turned towards the sound of her voice. His brow was furrowed, but his eyes still had a sparkle to them, and his mouth was quirking up into a grin. “Not a chance. I think this may be the first day off that I’ve had in three years.”
Morgana smirked knowingly. “Don’t know what to do with yourself, do you?”
Merlin chuckled. “Not really. I’m sure I’ll find something to do.”
Morgana walked the few steps over to where Merlin stood, her heels clicking in the silence of the empty hall. For the second time that day, she grabbed Merlin, this time slinging her arm under his to hold him at her side. “You’re coming with me to the gardens.”
Her tone had left no room for protestation, but Merlin still tried. “Morgana, I don’t think-”
Ignoring him, Morgana started walking, pulling him with her. “I can’t even remember the last day that we spent time alone together.”
Merlin flushed, the heat of his guilt rushing to his cheeks. “Morgana…” He ducked his head, looking away from her as they stepped out of the castle into the bright sunlight.
She could see the gardens up ahead, and Morgana sighed. “I’m still your friend, Merlin, I don’t want to lose-” The words choked off on the edge of her tongue, her mouth no longer able to form speech as a spasm of pain racked through her body. Morgana rocked forward on her feet, nearly tipping over and crashing to the ground. The red hot pulsing ache in her chest was making it difficult to breathe, and she clenched her eyes shut as she tried to cope with the pain. The backs of her eyelids were tattooed with bright spots of color, and as she focused on them, she could see visions of Arthur swimming across her eyes. His face was distorted and blurred from one swirling color to the next, but it never faded. With a large, gasping breath, Morgana’s eyes shot open and she straightened up to her full height. As the pain subsided, she blinked several times to clear Arthur’s face, her breathing still ragged.
Merlin’s hands were resting on Morgana’s shoulders from where he had grabbed her as she had pitched forward, trying to steady her. He was stunned, his expression a mixture of worry and confusion. “Morgana? Are you alright?”
She wasn’t alright, but she couldn’t explain what had happened. It was as though she had experienced a waking nightmare-her fingertips were still pulsating with the faint echo of magic. Trying to stop her hands from shaking, she smoothed them down over her skirts, taking a breath as she did. “I’m fine,” she lied, the words sliding out easily. “Just a headache.”
Merlin’s eyebrow lifted minutely, but he didn’t contradict her. He slowly released her shoulders, letting his hands hover closely for a moment until he was sure she wouldn’t fall without him.
“You were right, visiting the gardens wasn’t the best idea,” Morgana mumbled, stepping away from him.
“Morgana, you should-” As he spoke, a guard rounded the corner and startled them both, the half-hearted protest dying on his lips.
Morgana used the distraction to slip away, her head still reeling from the strange onslaught of images, and her heart throbbing with that familiar piercing feeling of Arthur being in danger. There was something wrong; if only she knew what.
---
Morgana had the same pain in her chest for the rest of the day. Every time she breathed in, she could smell scorching air, the sensation burning at her nose. Her limbs felt heavy, her whole body weary; though she had done nothing but sit in her room for hours. If it wasn’t for the flickering images of Arthur that flitted across her vision when she closed her eyes, she would’ve thought that something was wrong with her.
After anxiously pacing her quarters, exhaustion set in, and she had no choice but to succumb to the urge to sleep.
It wasn’t long before the inevitable rush of dreams crashed over her. The images sucked her under, filling her lungs with the pressure of repressed screams. Arthur was sinking, fading, his feet traveling the same circled path with no end. A tower loomed ahead, the blackness of its spires blocking out the red sun. There was a bright golden glow, the source indistinguishable, and then dark wings over the horizon. Arthur was lying on the ground, his eyes shut and his chest still.
Morgana shot up in her bed, her sheets soaked from sweat and tears. For once, she didn’t yell; the pain was too familiar by now. She had seen Arthur die in her dreams a hundred times over, and the residual ache from the day reminded her that she had seen this coming. The sight of his face in her dreams confirmed her fears-Arthur was in danger.
---
Before the sun had even broken through the bottom of the sky, Morgana went to the physician’s chambers and woke Merlin. She stood at the foot of his bed, staring down at him as she grabbed his leg and shook it. As soon as the boy opened his eyes, Morgana announced, “Arthur isn’t going to survive his quest.” The words were tinged with sadness, but her voice was calm and steady.
Merlin blinked wearily, rubbing at his eyes with his hands. “What?”
“He’s not going to come back. He won’t succeed.” She reached out and grabbed the footboard of the bed, needing something to hold on to.
Merlin swung his legs out from under the sheets, setting his feet on the ground as he sat up on the edge of the bed. “Morgana, I know you’re worried, but-”
Her knuckles were turning white, and the wood was creaking under her fingers. “I’ve seen it.”
Shadows passed over Merlin’s eyes at her words, but he blinked and they were gone. “Morgana, perhaps this time, it was just a dream.”
Morgana scowled. “I know the difference.” The wood cracked loudly and Morgana let go, taking a step back. “I could feel it, Merlin. There’s something magical about those lands, something that even Arthur can’t escape. He’ll be lost for days, wandering until the desert finally claims him.” Her hands shook, and she crossed her arms over her chest to hide it. “He needs magic to make it through.”
Merlin, who had been staring down at his lap, looked up at her slowly.
“He needs us,” she continued. “We have to help him.”
Lamely, Merlin mumbled, “He’s supposed to do this alone, Morgana.”
Her eyes rolled skyward as she scoffed. “When has something like that ever stopped you before?”
He shrugged, his lips pursing out as he nodded. It was true, but he was still reluctant. His first instinct was to be wary of Morgana-though he knew it wasn’t necessary; he couldn’t control it.
Morgana dug her fingers deeper into her ribcage, holding herself together. “If we don’t go after him, we will never see him again, I know it.”
The conviction in her voice won him over in the end. She seemed so certain, and he couldn’t risk the chance that Arthur would die because he did nothing. Merlin sighed. “Alright,” he acquiesced. He stood up from the bed, adjusting his nightclothes. “But you realize we can’t do this alone. We may have magic, but you and I can’t make it all the way to the Perilous Lands without help.” They didn’t have the manpower to fight off bandits or anything else they may have to face, and Merlin knew that there were some things even his magic couldn’t handle. “And it’s not like we can ask any of the knights to join us.”
A smile bloomed on Morgana’s lips. “Don’t worry, Merlin. I know just who we need.”
---
Later that morning, Morgana and Merlin set out to find someone to help them on their mission. Morgana had told Gwen about her plans, but no one else could know. Gwen had held her tightly before she left, mussing Morgana’s hair as she gripped the back of her head. “Be careful,” Gwen had whispered. Morgana clutched her friend even tighter, swearing that everything would be alright, even though she knew that there was no way she could guarantee that.
Morgana and Merlin snuck out on their horses, doing their best not to attract any attention. They rode for hours, with Morgana leading the way. She took them out past Camelot’s borders, and as soon as they crossed the line, she abruptly stopped, closing her eyes and concentrating.
Merlin came up short behind her, yanking on the reins to get his horse to stop. “Morgana?” he questioned.
She held up a hand as if to tell him to be quiet, her eyes still shut. The air crackled around her, and she took a steadying breath before picking up the reins and redirecting her horse. She chose a path and kicked her horse, taking off at a gallop.
Merlin shook his head as he watched her go. “Right, then.” He followed her, since he had no other choice.
Morgana didn’t speak for the rest of their ride; she was too focused on the path ahead. When she finally stopped, they had arrived at a small village. “We’re here,” she announced as she dismounted from her horse.
“And where is here, exactly? You didn’t really mention where we were going. Or who we’re looking for,” Merlin quipped.
Morgana ignored his questions. “Come on.” She waited for Merlin to get off his horse and then dragged him down a narrow road that led into the town. Morgana surveyed the town as she walked, though what she was looking for, Merlin couldn’t say. She seemed to find it, however, because her eyes lit up and she pulled Merlin along to a dilapidated building with a broken sign that appeared to have once contained the word ‘tavern’ on it.
“A tavern?” Merlin mumbled.
Morgana pulled Merlin inside, the stench of stale mead and sweat hitting her in the face. She wrinkled her nose in disgust, but didn’t let it deter her. It only took a single sweep of the room to find the right man.
There was a large commotion in one corner, and it caught Morgana’s eye. A handsome man was fighting off several burly men, a drunken grin spread across his lips. Morgana cleared her throat loudly to catch their attention.
At the sound, the large men stopped fighting, intrigued by the presence of a noblewoman. The grinning one looked up at Morgana, his eyes sparkling as he lifted his head and met her gaze. His grin widened as he raked his eyes over her. With that tireless grin still in place, he chuckled low, greeting her with, “Hello, princess.”
Merlin laughed in amusement from behind Morgana, the pieces falling into place.
Morgana smiled back at the man, shaking her head. “It’s good to see you, Gwaine.”
---
Arthur had been riding for nearly two days now, making his way through forests and valleys. While he had slept the previous night, some bandits had attacked him, but he had fought them off without any problems. His journey had been fairly simple other than that; one could possibly say it was boring. He had often worried that he was going in the wrong direction, but as he rode over a high ridge, he could see the burning red sun illuminating the wastelands up ahead. He was getting close. Though he couldn’t see it, he knew that the Dark Tower was somewhere up ahead.
He pulled out a map to check his path, and found that it was one of the maps Morgana had covered in her scrawling handwriting. Chuckling to himself, he shoved it back into his bag. He continued to ride until the path became too narrow, and he had no choice but to continue on foot.
There was a small bridge up ahead, and Arthur found his route blocked by a small man. As he drew closer, the man asked, “Who is it that wishes to cross my bridge?”
Arthur put away his sword to show that he wasn’t a threat, and answered, “A knight, on a quest to retrieve the trident of the Fisher King.”
“Ah, then you must be courage,” the man replied.
Arthur pulled a face, lifting his eyebrows in confusion and countering with, “No, I’m Prince Arthur of Camelot.”
As Arthur came closer, the man moved into his path. “Before I let you pass, let me give you a little advice. As courage, there are three more things you’ll need to complete your quest. Strength, heart, and magic.”
Arthur gave the man a strange look, and considered telling him that he didn’t have any magic, but he kept it to himself. He nodded at smaller man. “Thank you for your help.”
The man stepped aside, sweeping his arm out to show that Arthur could pass. As Arthur walked onto the bridge, the man’s eyes flicked down to the prince’s wrist for a brief second. Arthur didn’t even notice; he just kept walking as the man’s echoing laughter fading behind him.
---
After Morgana reasoned with the angry men in the tavern, she and Merlin managed to get Gwaine out of there, and she even bargained for a horse for him to ride. She explained that they needed help, and Gwaine willingly agreed to come with them.
As they rode, Gwaine started to ask questions, as he was rather uninformed on the whole situation.
Morgana vaguely answered how she found him, telling him some excuse about searching all the taverns from Essetir to Mercia. Gwaine laughed and accepted her answer as the joke that it was, while Merlin gave her a pointed look, knowing that there was more to the story.
“So what exactly is going on?” Gwaine asked. “Arthur’s in trouble, yet again? I think I may have to start charging him for the times I save his life.”
Merlin snorted, and Morgana shook her head. Morgana replied, “He’s gone to the Perilous Lands on a quest.”
“And you two don’t think he’ll make it without you?”
Merlin piped up, “Well, he is quite hopeless without us.”
Gwaine shrugged, and after a moment, started his questioning again. “So, princess, how is Arthur? You know, last time we met, you two seemed to be in a bit of a rough patch.”
Color crept up in Morgana’s cheeks, but she remained poised. “He’s doing just fine, Gwaine. Other than the fact that he may be about to die in a day or so.”
Gwaine grinned. “But you’re the one out on a rescue mission for him, not that pretty little serving girl; that must mean something.”
“My relationship with Arthur is none of your business.” Her tone was slightly sharp, but there was no hiding the grin on her lips.
“Ah, so that means it worked, then,” he remarked.
Morgana shook her head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Cheekily, Gwaine pushed on, “You know, you should be thanking me.”
Merlin watched the pair intently as they bantered, not quite understanding but enjoying it all the same.
Morgana scoffed loudly. “You weren’t that great of a kisser, Gwaine.”
Merlin choked on a laugh.
“Good enough to bother Arthur, I’m sure.” Gwaine spurred his horse on faster to keep pace with Morgana, turning his head to watch her. “Looking back on it, maybe it wasn’t the best decision. I mean, it’s a shame that you’re not available anymore.”
Morgana caught Gwaine’s infuriating smile from out of the corner of her eye and she shook her head, blocking out the rest of his comments as they continued to ride.
---
Traveling on foot made the trip much slower, and Arthur was starting to wish he still had his horse. He could only carry so much with him, and he had left many precious supplies with the horse. After hours of walking, he reached the Perilous Lands, but it was a small victory. He struggled horribly to cross through the lands, continually finding himself lost or going in circles.
In the back of his mind, he vaguely remembered Morgana’s warning about the magic in this land. He feared that she may have been right. The woods he traveled through seemed to purposefully turn him around, and he had been stuck there on a loop for a good portion of the day. Once he finally escaped the thicket of trees and vines, he was dumped out into a desert, where he was exposed to the intense dry heat.
He wasted nearly a day out in the open wastelands, unable to figure out the right way to go and slowly using up his supplies. The sun was scorching his skin, and his tongue felt thick in his mouth from the lack of water.
There weren’t any trees to provide shade, and the land stretched on endlessly in front of him with no end in sight. Arthur began to regret his choice of this quest, but he refused to give up yet.
He trekked on through the desolate expanse of land, once nearly drowning in a vat of quicksand; but he escaped before it could completely trap him. The endeavor of pulling himself out of the pit was tiring, however, and he collapsed there, letting sleep take him.
---
Part 2
Fandom: Merlin
Characters/Pairings: Arthur/Morgana, any and all other characters
Word Count: 12,985
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 3
Summary: (The sequel to "you and i are a story that never gets told") This is season 3, the way it should've been. Arthur has lost Morgana, and he is struggling to move on without her. Morgana is learning to master her powers with the help of her sister, but she can't stay away from Camelot forever... Once you set things into motion, everything can change.
Author's Notes: So it took me a month to get this chapter done, but hey, it's 13,000 words. Also, I had to split it into two parts because it was so long.
Previous Installment: you and i are a story that never gets told
Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6
---
After discovering Morgana’s betrayal, it took Arthur several weeks to process the information, his heart torn in several directions. He wanted to be angry, to make Morgana feel the same pain he felt when he found out, but it wasn’t working like he planned. He was finding that it was immensely difficult to stay angry at Morgana when he was so ridiculously in love with her. It was especially trying when she would wear his favorite dresses or pin her hair up in messy buns, with tendrils of hair falling out and tickling the base of her neck. It made his fingers itch to touch her-to trace the veins under her skin, to get tangled in her curls-and his anger would be lost in the back of his mind.
Morgana would constantly hover in his space, leaning too close to whisper something in his ear, intimately brushing her fingers along his collar; all of it leaving his head in a lavender-scented fog. He was fairly certain that Morgana knew exactly what she was doing, too. She told him that she wanted to make it all up to him, that she would do anything to fix things between them. Of course, that only resulted in him kissing her again-which he really needed to stop doing, it was seriously distracting. He had yet to forgive her though, and the more he held off, the worse Morgana’s teasing became.
After dinner one night, she swept past him, her hand trailing across his arm and leaving a trail of goose-bumps on his skin as she smiled at him. Arthur’s eyes rolled back, and he cursed low under his breath.
As Morgana knew he would, he followed her out into the hall, trailing on her heels. She stopped and spun to face him, nearly causing him to crash into her. She smirked at him. “Yes, Arthur?”
He clenched and unclenched his jaw, swallowing roughly. “This has to stop.”
Moving closer, Morgana lifted her hand, settling it over his collarbone. “What?” she asked, drawing her bottom lip into her mouth and releasing it slowly before smiling coquettishly at him.
Arthur grabbed at the hand she had laid on his chest, squeezing her fingers tightly. “You know what.”
Morgana grinned, stepping closer to him. She tipped her chin up, staring into his eyes. “Do I?”
Her breath tickled his throat as she talked, and he gulped, suppressing a shudder. “Morgana,” he warned, his voice heavy.
She lifted up on her toes, leaning her weight against his body for support. On an exhale, she brushed her lips over his, breathing into him.
The feather light touch of her mouth sliding over his made him throw his arm out and roughly take hold of her waist, though he didn’t push her away.
Morgana tipped her head to the side, tinkling laughter passing through her lips. “Really, Arthur, you’re too easy.”
A rumbling noise that sounded faintly like a growl reverberated through Arthur’s chest.
Morgana pursed her lips, cocking her head as she studied his ever-darkening eyes. “I’ll try to stop if you quit ignoring me.”
“Try?” he asked, the word sticking on his tongue.
With a vicious grin, she rose up again and caught his bottom lip between her teeth, pulling it into her mouth as she kissed him hungrily. She ran her hand up his chest, sliding it over the back of his shoulders and resting it there, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. As she released him from her teeth, she soothed the bite marks with her tongue and stepped back, letting him breathe. “I can only do so much.”
Arthur sighed. “Are you going to do this every time I’m mad at you?”
Shrugging, she quipped, “As far as punishments go, I think this one is fairly lenient.”
His hand twitched where it was resting against her waist, his fingers splaying across her hipbone. “You don’t fight fair,” he grumbled. “I had every reason to be upset, and you know it.”
With her cocky attitude waning, she nodded slowly, averting her eyes from his gaze. “I suppose you did.” She truly did feel terrible about hurting him, but she couldn’t stand it when he ignored her, especially now, after going for so long without him. It brought out the childish side of her.
Arthur started rubbing small circles on her side with his fingers. “But anger aside, I think I understand things now. I may not agree with it, but you were trying to do what you thought was right. Sometimes we make the wrong choices; I know that better than most.”
Morgana looked up at him, her eyes shining brightly. “Does this mean you forgive me?”
The hand he had on her hip moved up to her back, pulling her closer. “It means I love you,” he murmured. “And no matter what idiotic stunts you pull, that’s never going to change.” With a smirk, he added, “Not even if I wanted it to.”
Morgana tried to shove at him, but he held her tightly in his arms, leaning down to kiss her gently. As he broke the kiss, Morgana remembered that they were standing in the middle of the hall. Whispering against the skin of his cheek, Morgana asked, “Why don’t you come to my chambers for a while?”
Arthur smiled at her across the close space, wishing he could say yes. “I can’t. I have to decide upon my quest, remember?”
Morgana nodded, her nose brushing along his jaw as she moved. She hummed thoughtfully, commenting, “For once you’ll be the one staying up all night because of visions in your head.”
He chuckled, dropping his hands from where they held her body.
As they moved apart, Morgana asked, “Do you want me to wait with you?”
Arthur shook his head. “I’ll be fine.” He took another step back, tipping his head at her.
Smiling at him, Morgana let him go. She knew that visions were tricky things, and the one burden that she wouldn’t wish on anyone. This was a bit different than her dreams, and she understood how important it was to Arthur; yet still, it made her queasy to think of images invading his mind like they did hers.
Knowing that Arthur would be awake under her feet, Morgana stayed awake as well, staring at the ceiling in her room as the night passed.
---
After an entire night of kneeling in the throne room, Arthur was woken from his trance by his father. As he stood up from the floor, he announced that his quest would be to journey to the realm of the Fisher King, and to retrieve the king’s trident.
Uther was pleased by the announcement, but as news traveled, Morgana soon found out, and she was worried. Arthur’s journey would require him to cross the Perilous Lands, and she knew how treacherous they could be. The land wasn’t named for naught; many knights had journeyed there, never to return.
Morgana spent her day with Gwen in the market, picking out silks and gossamer fabrics for a new dress instead of dwelling on Arthur’s quest. He was busy the whole day preparing, and she knew he wouldn’t appreciate her fussing over him. She had found it was extremely easy to distract him if she truly wanted to; all it took was a flip of her hair, or a little half smile directed his way, and he’d quickly forget what he was doing. But this was important to him, so she gave him space for the day.
Gwen dragged Morgana through the town, both girls giggling and wrapping themselves up in swaths of fabric to amuse one another.
“How about this one?” Gwen asked as she wrapped a length of gauzy salmon colored fabric around her shoulders.
Morgana hummed, before replying, “It’s not quite my color. It looks great on you though, you should get it.”
Gwen blushed, sliding the cloth across her neck to remove it. “My lady, what would I do with it?”
“Use it for a dress, of course. You should be allowed to wear nice things from time to time, Gwen.”
Laughing self-consciously, Gwen set the fabric back down on the cart from which she had gotten it. “I have no use for fancy dresses; they aren’t exactly fitting for servants.”
Morgana waved her hand to show she disagreed. “Nonsense. You still have a life outside of being my servant, don’t you? What about when you want to impress a man?”
“Morgana-”
Morgana continued, “Not that you need fancy dresses to intrigue men; I’ve seen the way some of the knights look at you. And clearly you caught Arthur’s attention well enough.” She playfully smirked at her friend, narrowing her eyes pointedly.
Gwen shook her head, but there was a clear smile on her lips.
Shrugging, Morgana let Gwen lead her away from the cart, leaving the fabric. As they walked away, Morgana chirped, “I suppose you could always borrow one of my dresses anyways.”
The sound of Gwen’s bright laughter echoed through the market as they left.
---
As the moon rose in the sky, Morgana found that she no longer had anything to distract her from thinking about Arthur and his quest. Gwen had left for the night, and Morgana was in bed, trying to sleep, but it wasn’t working. She threw off the covers and got out of bed. Without bothering to put on something more than her nightgown, she slipped out into the hall and started walking to Arthur’s room.
When she reached her destination, she opened the door slowly, holding onto the edge of the wood and leaning forward, peering inside. The light from several candles flickered on the walls, and she knew Arthur was awake. She opened the door further, revealing him at the table, pouring over several maps and other papers.
He didn’t seem to register that she was there at first, so Morgana entered the room quietly, shutting the door behind her. Creeping up behind him, Morgana set her hands on his shoulders and leaned over to whisper in his ear, “Hard at work?”
Arthur flinched only slightly, Morgana’s presence was more comforting than startling. He reached up and rubbed his thumb along the back of one of her hands. “Preparing,” he mumbled. “All these maps say something different; it’s difficult to plan properly.”
“Want some help?” Morgana asked, leaning forward to look over his shoulder at the maps. He hadn’t been lying, there were at least five contradicting maps that she could see. “I could probably cast a locator spell to guide the way for you,” she offered.
Arthur chuckled, the vibrations of the action shaking through Morgana’s fingers. “As much as I’d like that, I’m afraid I have to decline. I’m supposed to do this quest alone.”
Morgana pouted. “Fine.” She tilted her head and lightly planted a kiss on the hollow of his cheek before standing up straight and stepping away from him, removing her hands from his shoulders. She moved around the corner of the table and sat in the chair at the end. After she was settled, she grabbed one of the maps and a quill, and then pulled the well of ink towards her. Studying the map for a moment, she set to work on fixing it. The places where the map looked incorrect, she marked over it with ink from the quill.
Arthur heard the scratching of the quill and looked up at her, an amused expression on his face. “Morgana.”
She continued to cross out portions of the map and redraw some of the landmarks, ignoring him.
“Morgana,” he echoed, slightly louder this time. “You really don’t understand the concept of me doing this alone, do you?”
The quill dropped from her fingers and she frowned at him. “These maps are atrocious; I was only trying to help.”
He laughed, shaking his head at her. “You don’t know the way to the Dark Tower any more than I do; you’re just scribbling.”
Huffing, Morgana shoved the map away. It was frustrating to worry about him and know that there was nothing she could do to help.
Reading her emotions, Arthur’s lips quirked up into a smile. “You’re worried about me.”
She chewed on her lip, not bothering to deny his claim. “This isn’t an ordinary mission, Arthur. What you’re planning to do has been attempted by other men, and no one has ever succeeded.”
“Yes, but they’re not me,” Arthur responded.
Morgana’s face dropped. “Arthur…”
“You don’t think I can do it?” he asked. He sounded hurt by the thought.
Morgana sighed. “I have every faith in you, Arthur. But the legends…” She had heard the tale of the Fisher King; there were rumors that he still lived to this day, his land cursed with the same dark magic that sustained him. The land itself had become a carnivorous creature, swallowing up men who would wander through.
As expected, Arthur wasn’t concerned. “The legends aren’t true, Morgana. They’re just stories.”
“But if they are true-” She reached out, taking his hand. “Magic like that, it’s dangerous.”
His demeanor softened, and he tried to comfort her, squeezing her hand. “I know, Morgana. I’ll be careful.”
“Sometimes I don’t think you know the meaning of the word,” she quipped.
He laughed, releasing her hand. “Perhaps. But I’ll be fine, Morgana. I can do this on my own.” He smiled at her before pulling the map she had taken back towards him.
As she took her hand back, Morgana stared down at her lap, watching her fingers twitch as she twisted them together nervously. She and Arthur had only just gotten back to a semi-normal relationship, and now he was going off on a potentially suicidal mission. It made her furious at this ridiculous ritual.
At Morgana’s silence, Arthur went back to his planning. Shuffling the papers on the table, Arthur looked over them with a grim expression. Letting out a breath, he started to work again, mapping out a route to take.
Sensing that he was trying to focus, Morgana stood up from the table. “I get it; you have to do this alone. I’ll leave you to your work.”
Arthur jumped up from the table, leaving the maps as he hurried to stop her. Catching her by the arm, he implored, “Wait. Stay.”
Morgana turned into him, smiling. “I thought I couldn’t help.”
He shook his head. “Just-be here with me. For a little while.” He was always better when she was with him; stronger, braver, capable of anything. “Please.”
She cupped his cheek with her hand, using it to pull him closer. Once he was near enough, she brushed her nose against his, leaning in and languorously kissing him for a moment. “Alright,” she murmured against his lips, “I’ll stay.”
Arthur went back to the table and his maps, and Morgana went over to the bed, curling up like a cat on top of the bedcovers. She propped her head up on her arm, watching him as he worked. After a while, her eyelids grew heavy, the calming sound of Arthur’s breathing lulling her into peaceful state. Her arm eventually slipped, her head coming to rest on the mattress as she fell asleep.
Arthur heard the sound of her arm hitting the bed, and he paused in his work. Rising from his chair, he grabbed a blanket and covered Morgana with it before returning to his seat. He worked into the early morning hours, periodically watching Morgana as she tossed around in her sleep.
---
Morgana woke up late the next morning, bleary eyed and groggy, but feeling well-rested. She rolled over, looking up at the canopy, and she recognized it as Arthur’s bed. She was facing the wrong end of the bed, with her feet hitting the headboard, but she had a blanket covering her and a pillow under her head; Arthur’s doing, she assumed.
As Morgana maneuvered herself to put her feet on the ground, she heard rustling off to her left. Her head snapped up, expecting to see Arthur. Instead, she caught sight of a telltale red scarf as Merlin scurried around Arthur’s room, looking awkward.
Morgana noticed that he was avoiding looking in her direction, so with a grin on her lips, she called out, “Merlin.”
Merlin slowed in his work and looked up at Morgana, a blush coloring his cheeks. He no longer knew how to act around Morgana; their friendship was so tenuous at this point. To find her in Arthur’s bed, in a nightdress… to say he was uncomfortable would be an understatement. “I’m sorry to have disturbed you, my lady, Arthur asked me not to wake you up-”
“It’s fine, Merlin. It’s nearly midday; I can’t stay in bed forever.” Standing from the bed, she walked over to Arthur’s armoire and rifled through his clothes. There was a slight chill on the air, and she hadn’t brought a cover with her. She pulled out a long, brown coat from the back of his armoire and slipped it on over her nightdress. As she tugged the coat around her body, a thought occurred to her. “Midday,” she repeated. She spun towards Merlin, her eyes wide. “Arthur, is he-?”
Merlin looked sheepish. “He’s about to leave.”
“That infuriating man,” Morgana grumbled. She grabbed a pair of Arthur’s boots and shoved her feet into them, even though they were several sizes too big. Inadvertently directing her anger at Merlin, she glared at the servant, her mouth set in a hard line. “I was supposed to see him off in the square, he knew that!”
“He didn’t want to wake you,” Merlin mumbled.
Morgana passed the window, catching her reflection in the glass. “I look a sight,” she groaned. She tied her hair up with a spare bit of ribbon, grumbling to herself under her breath. Turning to Merlin, she asked, “And what about you, aren’t you seeing him off?”
He held up a satchel. “I needed to get a few more things for his trip.”
Morgana huffed, annoyed with Merlin’s lack of impatience. She grabbed him by the front of his shirt, tugging him with her as she walked briskly to the door, her boots clunking with every step.
They made their way through the castle, only stopping when Merlin indicated that he needed to go fetch Arthur’s horse. Morgana released her hold on his shirt and sent him off to the stables. She continued on her way to the square, moving as quickly as she could manage in the large shoes. As she rounded the corner of the hall leading to the main castle doors, she saw the light glinting off of bright metal as the sun shone through the windows. Morgana immediately recognized it as the distinct silver of Arthur’s armor, and she started running towards him. She nearly tripped over her feet several times, and as she neared him, she launched herself forward, praying that he’d catch her before she fell.
Arthur turned just in time to see Morgana clomping down the hall, in his boots, no less. Her hair was spilling out around her face, and her white and gold nightgown was visible through the front gap in his brown coat. She barreled into him, and he caught her before she collided with his chest, sweeping her up into his arms.
Morgana threw her arms over his shoulders and knitted her hands together behind his neck, holding on tightly. Arthur lifted her off the ground, chuckling in amusement. As he held her, the too-large boots slipped off her feet and dropped to the stone floor with a dull thud.
With her face pressed against the bare skin of his neck, Morgana murmured, “I had to see you before you left.” As she spoke, puffs of her breath bounced off the bend of his shoulder, warming her face.
Arthur kissed the side of her head before readjusting her in his arms, pulling back so he could look at her face while still holding her. “I’m sorry; I couldn’t bear to wake you this morning. I thought you might have been up before I left, but you slept longer than I thought.”
Morgana glowered at him, but there was no real heat behind her stare. “Next time, wake me. I would’ve liked a few minutes to get dressed.”
Scanning her appearance once more, Arthur grinned. “I think you look nice.”
If her hands hadn’t been locked together around his neck, she would’ve hit him. She settled for a glare and a pout, which only made Arthur laugh.
“You know, this is the second time you’ve chased after me in your nightgown. I rather think we should make it a tradition.”
The memory of the first time she had come running after him made her frown, the thoughts of his near-death experience upsetting her.
As if reading her thoughts, Arthur leaned in and placed a soft peck of a kiss on her lips. He whispered, “I’ll be fine, Morgana.” He set her down on the floor then, carefully lowering her onto her toes.
Morgana looked up at him, her eyes shining as she begged, “Promise me you’ll come back.”
He smiled. “I’m coming back, Morgana.” His smile widened, turning into something more playful. “I couldn’t leave you now, obviously, not when you’re so clearly infatuated with me. You’d be lost without me.”
With her hands no longer hooked behind his neck, Morgana pushed at his shoulder. He absorbed the blow and swayed slightly, rocking on his heels, his grin never wavering. She couldn’t help but smile back at him, despite her fears. “I’ll see you soon,” she whispered.
Arthur nodded at her, his eyes staying on her as he turned and walked down the steps to the courtyard.
---
As Arthur left, Morgana watched from her window, tracking him until he disappeared over the hills outside the city. Once he was gone, Morgana summoned Gwen and got dressed properly. She ate a meal by herself, picking at the bits of bread and fruit on her plate. The food was fine, but she couldn’t seem to stomach anything. Arthur had promised to come home, but something about this trip was worrying her more than usual. Pushing it out of her mind, she forced down the rest of her food. When she finished, she went on with her day, busying herself around the castle.
She received a brief lecture from Uther when she saw him; he was displeased that she hadn’t come to bid Arthur goodbye. Morgana assured him that she had wished the prince luck, but in private. Uther’s eye twitched almost imperceptibly, his face clouding over with some unreadable emotion. He nodded and walked away, the coldness from his stare still lingering and chilling Morgana deep in her bones. The king may hide it well, but she knew what he truly thought of her. He didn’t trust her, and from his reaction, he didn’t approve of her closeness with his son either. But he didn’t have any reason to harm her, not yet, and Morgana only hoped that she could hold out long enough for Arthur’s reign.
She decided to take a walk around the gardens, needing the fresh air to clear her head. On her way, she noticed Merlin wandering the halls and smiled at him. He looked just as lost as she felt. “Missing Arthur already?” Morgana asked loudly, catching the boy’s attention.
Merlin stopped and turned towards the sound of her voice. His brow was furrowed, but his eyes still had a sparkle to them, and his mouth was quirking up into a grin. “Not a chance. I think this may be the first day off that I’ve had in three years.”
Morgana smirked knowingly. “Don’t know what to do with yourself, do you?”
Merlin chuckled. “Not really. I’m sure I’ll find something to do.”
Morgana walked the few steps over to where Merlin stood, her heels clicking in the silence of the empty hall. For the second time that day, she grabbed Merlin, this time slinging her arm under his to hold him at her side. “You’re coming with me to the gardens.”
Her tone had left no room for protestation, but Merlin still tried. “Morgana, I don’t think-”
Ignoring him, Morgana started walking, pulling him with her. “I can’t even remember the last day that we spent time alone together.”
Merlin flushed, the heat of his guilt rushing to his cheeks. “Morgana…” He ducked his head, looking away from her as they stepped out of the castle into the bright sunlight.
She could see the gardens up ahead, and Morgana sighed. “I’m still your friend, Merlin, I don’t want to lose-” The words choked off on the edge of her tongue, her mouth no longer able to form speech as a spasm of pain racked through her body. Morgana rocked forward on her feet, nearly tipping over and crashing to the ground. The red hot pulsing ache in her chest was making it difficult to breathe, and she clenched her eyes shut as she tried to cope with the pain. The backs of her eyelids were tattooed with bright spots of color, and as she focused on them, she could see visions of Arthur swimming across her eyes. His face was distorted and blurred from one swirling color to the next, but it never faded. With a large, gasping breath, Morgana’s eyes shot open and she straightened up to her full height. As the pain subsided, she blinked several times to clear Arthur’s face, her breathing still ragged.
Merlin’s hands were resting on Morgana’s shoulders from where he had grabbed her as she had pitched forward, trying to steady her. He was stunned, his expression a mixture of worry and confusion. “Morgana? Are you alright?”
She wasn’t alright, but she couldn’t explain what had happened. It was as though she had experienced a waking nightmare-her fingertips were still pulsating with the faint echo of magic. Trying to stop her hands from shaking, she smoothed them down over her skirts, taking a breath as she did. “I’m fine,” she lied, the words sliding out easily. “Just a headache.”
Merlin’s eyebrow lifted minutely, but he didn’t contradict her. He slowly released her shoulders, letting his hands hover closely for a moment until he was sure she wouldn’t fall without him.
“You were right, visiting the gardens wasn’t the best idea,” Morgana mumbled, stepping away from him.
“Morgana, you should-” As he spoke, a guard rounded the corner and startled them both, the half-hearted protest dying on his lips.
Morgana used the distraction to slip away, her head still reeling from the strange onslaught of images, and her heart throbbing with that familiar piercing feeling of Arthur being in danger. There was something wrong; if only she knew what.
---
Morgana had the same pain in her chest for the rest of the day. Every time she breathed in, she could smell scorching air, the sensation burning at her nose. Her limbs felt heavy, her whole body weary; though she had done nothing but sit in her room for hours. If it wasn’t for the flickering images of Arthur that flitted across her vision when she closed her eyes, she would’ve thought that something was wrong with her.
After anxiously pacing her quarters, exhaustion set in, and she had no choice but to succumb to the urge to sleep.
It wasn’t long before the inevitable rush of dreams crashed over her. The images sucked her under, filling her lungs with the pressure of repressed screams. Arthur was sinking, fading, his feet traveling the same circled path with no end. A tower loomed ahead, the blackness of its spires blocking out the red sun. There was a bright golden glow, the source indistinguishable, and then dark wings over the horizon. Arthur was lying on the ground, his eyes shut and his chest still.
Morgana shot up in her bed, her sheets soaked from sweat and tears. For once, she didn’t yell; the pain was too familiar by now. She had seen Arthur die in her dreams a hundred times over, and the residual ache from the day reminded her that she had seen this coming. The sight of his face in her dreams confirmed her fears-Arthur was in danger.
---
Before the sun had even broken through the bottom of the sky, Morgana went to the physician’s chambers and woke Merlin. She stood at the foot of his bed, staring down at him as she grabbed his leg and shook it. As soon as the boy opened his eyes, Morgana announced, “Arthur isn’t going to survive his quest.” The words were tinged with sadness, but her voice was calm and steady.
Merlin blinked wearily, rubbing at his eyes with his hands. “What?”
“He’s not going to come back. He won’t succeed.” She reached out and grabbed the footboard of the bed, needing something to hold on to.
Merlin swung his legs out from under the sheets, setting his feet on the ground as he sat up on the edge of the bed. “Morgana, I know you’re worried, but-”
Her knuckles were turning white, and the wood was creaking under her fingers. “I’ve seen it.”
Shadows passed over Merlin’s eyes at her words, but he blinked and they were gone. “Morgana, perhaps this time, it was just a dream.”
Morgana scowled. “I know the difference.” The wood cracked loudly and Morgana let go, taking a step back. “I could feel it, Merlin. There’s something magical about those lands, something that even Arthur can’t escape. He’ll be lost for days, wandering until the desert finally claims him.” Her hands shook, and she crossed her arms over her chest to hide it. “He needs magic to make it through.”
Merlin, who had been staring down at his lap, looked up at her slowly.
“He needs us,” she continued. “We have to help him.”
Lamely, Merlin mumbled, “He’s supposed to do this alone, Morgana.”
Her eyes rolled skyward as she scoffed. “When has something like that ever stopped you before?”
He shrugged, his lips pursing out as he nodded. It was true, but he was still reluctant. His first instinct was to be wary of Morgana-though he knew it wasn’t necessary; he couldn’t control it.
Morgana dug her fingers deeper into her ribcage, holding herself together. “If we don’t go after him, we will never see him again, I know it.”
The conviction in her voice won him over in the end. She seemed so certain, and he couldn’t risk the chance that Arthur would die because he did nothing. Merlin sighed. “Alright,” he acquiesced. He stood up from the bed, adjusting his nightclothes. “But you realize we can’t do this alone. We may have magic, but you and I can’t make it all the way to the Perilous Lands without help.” They didn’t have the manpower to fight off bandits or anything else they may have to face, and Merlin knew that there were some things even his magic couldn’t handle. “And it’s not like we can ask any of the knights to join us.”
A smile bloomed on Morgana’s lips. “Don’t worry, Merlin. I know just who we need.”
---
Later that morning, Morgana and Merlin set out to find someone to help them on their mission. Morgana had told Gwen about her plans, but no one else could know. Gwen had held her tightly before she left, mussing Morgana’s hair as she gripped the back of her head. “Be careful,” Gwen had whispered. Morgana clutched her friend even tighter, swearing that everything would be alright, even though she knew that there was no way she could guarantee that.
Morgana and Merlin snuck out on their horses, doing their best not to attract any attention. They rode for hours, with Morgana leading the way. She took them out past Camelot’s borders, and as soon as they crossed the line, she abruptly stopped, closing her eyes and concentrating.
Merlin came up short behind her, yanking on the reins to get his horse to stop. “Morgana?” he questioned.
She held up a hand as if to tell him to be quiet, her eyes still shut. The air crackled around her, and she took a steadying breath before picking up the reins and redirecting her horse. She chose a path and kicked her horse, taking off at a gallop.
Merlin shook his head as he watched her go. “Right, then.” He followed her, since he had no other choice.
Morgana didn’t speak for the rest of their ride; she was too focused on the path ahead. When she finally stopped, they had arrived at a small village. “We’re here,” she announced as she dismounted from her horse.
“And where is here, exactly? You didn’t really mention where we were going. Or who we’re looking for,” Merlin quipped.
Morgana ignored his questions. “Come on.” She waited for Merlin to get off his horse and then dragged him down a narrow road that led into the town. Morgana surveyed the town as she walked, though what she was looking for, Merlin couldn’t say. She seemed to find it, however, because her eyes lit up and she pulled Merlin along to a dilapidated building with a broken sign that appeared to have once contained the word ‘tavern’ on it.
“A tavern?” Merlin mumbled.
Morgana pulled Merlin inside, the stench of stale mead and sweat hitting her in the face. She wrinkled her nose in disgust, but didn’t let it deter her. It only took a single sweep of the room to find the right man.
There was a large commotion in one corner, and it caught Morgana’s eye. A handsome man was fighting off several burly men, a drunken grin spread across his lips. Morgana cleared her throat loudly to catch their attention.
At the sound, the large men stopped fighting, intrigued by the presence of a noblewoman. The grinning one looked up at Morgana, his eyes sparkling as he lifted his head and met her gaze. His grin widened as he raked his eyes over her. With that tireless grin still in place, he chuckled low, greeting her with, “Hello, princess.”
Merlin laughed in amusement from behind Morgana, the pieces falling into place.
Morgana smiled back at the man, shaking her head. “It’s good to see you, Gwaine.”
---
Arthur had been riding for nearly two days now, making his way through forests and valleys. While he had slept the previous night, some bandits had attacked him, but he had fought them off without any problems. His journey had been fairly simple other than that; one could possibly say it was boring. He had often worried that he was going in the wrong direction, but as he rode over a high ridge, he could see the burning red sun illuminating the wastelands up ahead. He was getting close. Though he couldn’t see it, he knew that the Dark Tower was somewhere up ahead.
He pulled out a map to check his path, and found that it was one of the maps Morgana had covered in her scrawling handwriting. Chuckling to himself, he shoved it back into his bag. He continued to ride until the path became too narrow, and he had no choice but to continue on foot.
There was a small bridge up ahead, and Arthur found his route blocked by a small man. As he drew closer, the man asked, “Who is it that wishes to cross my bridge?”
Arthur put away his sword to show that he wasn’t a threat, and answered, “A knight, on a quest to retrieve the trident of the Fisher King.”
“Ah, then you must be courage,” the man replied.
Arthur pulled a face, lifting his eyebrows in confusion and countering with, “No, I’m Prince Arthur of Camelot.”
As Arthur came closer, the man moved into his path. “Before I let you pass, let me give you a little advice. As courage, there are three more things you’ll need to complete your quest. Strength, heart, and magic.”
Arthur gave the man a strange look, and considered telling him that he didn’t have any magic, but he kept it to himself. He nodded at smaller man. “Thank you for your help.”
The man stepped aside, sweeping his arm out to show that Arthur could pass. As Arthur walked onto the bridge, the man’s eyes flicked down to the prince’s wrist for a brief second. Arthur didn’t even notice; he just kept walking as the man’s echoing laughter fading behind him.
---
After Morgana reasoned with the angry men in the tavern, she and Merlin managed to get Gwaine out of there, and she even bargained for a horse for him to ride. She explained that they needed help, and Gwaine willingly agreed to come with them.
As they rode, Gwaine started to ask questions, as he was rather uninformed on the whole situation.
Morgana vaguely answered how she found him, telling him some excuse about searching all the taverns from Essetir to Mercia. Gwaine laughed and accepted her answer as the joke that it was, while Merlin gave her a pointed look, knowing that there was more to the story.
“So what exactly is going on?” Gwaine asked. “Arthur’s in trouble, yet again? I think I may have to start charging him for the times I save his life.”
Merlin snorted, and Morgana shook her head. Morgana replied, “He’s gone to the Perilous Lands on a quest.”
“And you two don’t think he’ll make it without you?”
Merlin piped up, “Well, he is quite hopeless without us.”
Gwaine shrugged, and after a moment, started his questioning again. “So, princess, how is Arthur? You know, last time we met, you two seemed to be in a bit of a rough patch.”
Color crept up in Morgana’s cheeks, but she remained poised. “He’s doing just fine, Gwaine. Other than the fact that he may be about to die in a day or so.”
Gwaine grinned. “But you’re the one out on a rescue mission for him, not that pretty little serving girl; that must mean something.”
“My relationship with Arthur is none of your business.” Her tone was slightly sharp, but there was no hiding the grin on her lips.
“Ah, so that means it worked, then,” he remarked.
Morgana shook her head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Cheekily, Gwaine pushed on, “You know, you should be thanking me.”
Merlin watched the pair intently as they bantered, not quite understanding but enjoying it all the same.
Morgana scoffed loudly. “You weren’t that great of a kisser, Gwaine.”
Merlin choked on a laugh.
“Good enough to bother Arthur, I’m sure.” Gwaine spurred his horse on faster to keep pace with Morgana, turning his head to watch her. “Looking back on it, maybe it wasn’t the best decision. I mean, it’s a shame that you’re not available anymore.”
Morgana caught Gwaine’s infuriating smile from out of the corner of her eye and she shook her head, blocking out the rest of his comments as they continued to ride.
---
Traveling on foot made the trip much slower, and Arthur was starting to wish he still had his horse. He could only carry so much with him, and he had left many precious supplies with the horse. After hours of walking, he reached the Perilous Lands, but it was a small victory. He struggled horribly to cross through the lands, continually finding himself lost or going in circles.
In the back of his mind, he vaguely remembered Morgana’s warning about the magic in this land. He feared that she may have been right. The woods he traveled through seemed to purposefully turn him around, and he had been stuck there on a loop for a good portion of the day. Once he finally escaped the thicket of trees and vines, he was dumped out into a desert, where he was exposed to the intense dry heat.
He wasted nearly a day out in the open wastelands, unable to figure out the right way to go and slowly using up his supplies. The sun was scorching his skin, and his tongue felt thick in his mouth from the lack of water.
There weren’t any trees to provide shade, and the land stretched on endlessly in front of him with no end in sight. Arthur began to regret his choice of this quest, but he refused to give up yet.
He trekked on through the desolate expanse of land, once nearly drowning in a vat of quicksand; but he escaped before it could completely trap him. The endeavor of pulling himself out of the pit was tiring, however, and he collapsed there, letting sleep take him.
---
Part 2