the stars are crying (for what we could have had) (5/13)
Title: the stars are crying (for what we could have had) (5/13)
Fandom: Merlin
Characters/Pairings: Arthur/Morgana, any and all other characters
Word Count: 8,888
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: The chapter is late, but it's long, so yay? Also-- here's the deal, personally I have nothing against the incest when it comes to ArMor, but I didn't give a shit about the retconned storyline of Uther as Morgana's father. So, here's the deal, I'm not explicitly saying they're NOT related, but I'm not saying they are either. So whatever floats your boat is fine, you can believe what you want. I mean, they're probably not siblings in this verse, but it's up to you.
Previous Installment: you and i are a story that never gets told
Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3
---
Trees whizzed by in a blur of brown and green as Arthur, Morgana and Merlin barreled through the forest on foot. Behind them was a horde of bandits, furiously in pursuit.
As they ran, Arthur grumbled between panting breaths, “You just had to go for a ride today, Morgana.”
The trio ducked into a small gulley, stopping to catch their breath. Morgana glared over at Arthur. “You didn’t have to come.”
He shrugged. “It’s my job to protect you.”
As Morgana’s gaze shifted to the other member of their party, Merlin added, “I go where he goes.”
Morgana huffed in annoyance. “It’s not my fault-” she started, but she was interrupted by the yells of the bandits as they rushed towards them.
Roughly grabbing Morgana’s arm, Arthur pulled her towards him and shoved her up the side of the gulley, scrambling up behind her. They all took off running again, ducking under branches and jumping over logs in their path.
They came upon an entryway to a valley, with two giant statues guarding the path. Both Merlin and Morgana could feel the magic emanating from the place, and it gave them pause.
Arthur wasn’t in the mood to be patient, and he pulled Morgana along by her wrist again.
“Arthur.” She attempted to get him to slow down, but he wouldn’t stop. “This is the Valley of the Fallen Kings, we shouldn’t be here.”
“They won’t follow us in here, they wouldn’t dare,” Arthur said, as if that justified treading on sacred ground.
Morgana rolled her eyes and reluctantly followed him, not that she had much of a choice with him dragging her.
After they made it a few steps further, the screams started up again, and Merlin shoved at Arthur and Morgana, forcing them to start running again.
They made it several yards, maintaining a good distance between themselves and the bandits, but suddenly there was a whizzing noise as something cut through the air, and Arthur dropped to the ground. He tugged Morgana down with him, and she landed on her knees on the forest floor.
“Arthur!” she screamed as they fell.
“What happened?” Arthur mumbled.
Merlin rushed to Arthur’s side and tried to lift the prince to his feet, but Arthur couldn’t stand. “An arrow,” Merlin explained.
Morgana watched with wide eyes as Arthur collapsed, an arrow jutting out of his back. “Arthur?” she called, her voice cracking over his name.
Merlin struggled to lift Arthur off the ground, but he managed and started to carry him. Morgana was frozen in shock, and Merlin had to yell at her to get her to move. They managed to find a hidden alcove under some trees in the valley and ducked down there to escape the bandits. Arthur was sprawled on the ground, and Morgana and Merlin were kneeling next to him, hunched over under the branches.
Morgana was eerily calm, the shock stilling her movements and keeping her deathly quiet. Merlin finally had to shake her by the shoulders. “Morgana!” he whispered fiercely. “We have to do something, or we’re going to lose him.”
She came out of her daze; still completely calm, but aware now. Without a word, she reached over and grabbed Merlin’s wrist, twisting it towards her so she could grasp his hand.
Merlin’s eyebrows lifted minutely, and he attempted to pull his hand back, but she wouldn’t let go.
Morgana tightened her grip, twining their fingers together and squeezing until his hand tingled. With her other hand, she rolled Arthur over towards her so she could see the wound. She placed her hand on top of the blood-covered mail, her fingers getting painted in red. She closed her eyes and began to mumble something low beneath her breath. She repeated the same words over and over, but Merlin couldn’t make them out.
As she mumbled, Merlin felt a jolt deep inside him, and he rocked forward from the feeling. Suddenly a warmth spread from his chest, up through his shoulder and down his arm, until it reached where his fingers were connected with Morgana’s. He could feel the energy pouring out of his body and into Morgana’s, and it made him dizzy.
Morgana’s eyes glowed a brilliant golden orange for a moment, and as they faded, she stopped chanting. She released Merlin’s hand, and he took deep, staggering breath as he regained his strength.
“What did you-” Merlin gasped.
Morgana lifted the hand that was pressed to Arthur’s back, revealing his healed skin under the hole in the chainmail. She turned her head and looked at Merlin. “He’ll be fine.”
Merlin was slowly regaining his normal breathing, and he asked, “How?”
Morgana smiled. “Morgause taught me some healing spells. I didn’t have the energy to do it alone, so I borrowed some of yours.”
“Borrowed?” Merlin coughed.
She could tell from the high pitch of his tone that he was suspicious. “I didn’t steal it, Merlin. I just channeled your energy through me, and combined our magic so it was powerful enough to heal Arthur.”
He nodded slowly. Anything that Morgana learned from Morgause could potentially be dangerous, and it made him wary.
It was obvious that Merlin still didn’t trust her, but Arthur was safe now, and that was all she cared about. “Why don’t you go get some water? He’ll be waking up soon.”
Merlin looked back and forth between Morgana and Arthur, debating. Eventually he stood and walked away from the pair, leaving Morgana to look after the prince.
The bandits had passed through the valley by now, and it was safe for Merlin to explore. He found a small stream and headed towards it, planning to fill his water skin. Before he could reach the bank, he heard a noise.
“Emrys.”
Merlin’s head snapped up, and he whirled around, trying to find the source of the sound. It couldn’t be Morgana or Arthur, neither of them knew that name.
“Emrys,” it called again.
Suddenly, there was an elderly man in front of Merlin. It was as though he had appeared out of thin air.
“Come with me, Emrys. I have something to show you,” the man said.
For some inexplicable reason, Merlin felt as though he could trust this man. His water skin long forgotten, he followed the man. They crossed through the valley until they reached an opening in a rock wall, which led to a cave.
“What is this place?” Merlin asked. As they entered, the cave led way to a huge opening. From the ceiling to the floor, the place was lined with crystals, all glowing brightly. The feeling of magic enveloped Merlin like a blanket, it was so potent here.
The old man, Taliesin, replied, “This is the place where magic began. It is the crystal cave.”
Merlin stepped forward as one of the crystals caught his eye. He looked into it and saw images, one of Morgana sitting upon the throne with a crown on her head, and another of him as an old man. There was a flash of Morgana and Arthur too, their swords drawn. Merlin turned away as if he’d been burned. “No,” he gasped.
“Look into them, Emrys. Much will be revealed.”
“No, I’ve been through this before.” He shook his head. Seeing the future had come at a terrible price.
“Perhaps there was a reason you were brought here at this moment in time. The crystals contain futures that are not yet born. The secrets they reveal, Emrys, are unique to you. Look into them, really look.” Taliesin pointed towards the crystals.
Merlin reluctantly turned and looked at the crystals again. As he stared at them, a rush of images flashed through. He saw Morgana walking through the halls of the castle, and a bottle of poison clutched in her fingers. The images showed the poison dripping onto Uther’s lips, and then scenes of Arthur, distraught. Merlin saw Uther, dying. He dropped to his knees, gasping for air. “What was that?” he yelled, but he received no answer.
Taliesin was gone, leaving Merlin alone in the caves. It took Merlin a second to process the images, but when he did, he came to a realization. Morgana was going to kill Uther. He made his way back to the camp where he had left Arthur. The images were still looping through his brain, and it was making him twitch.
As Merlin arrived at the alcove under the trees, he could hear voices. Arthur was awake, and he and Morgana were talking.
Arthur caught sight of Merlin first and scoffed. “I told you, Morgana, he really is the most incompetent person I have ever met. I bet he didn’t even bring any water.”
Morgana looked over at Merlin, an eyebrow raised. “Where have you been? We were worried!”
“She was worried,” Arthur corrected. “I know you better than that. You probably just got lost, as usual.”
Merlin couldn’t tear his gaze away from Morgana. The images from the crystals were seared into the backs of his eyes, and he felt a surge of rage towards her.
“Merlin?” Morgana questioned. His intense stare was making her uncomfortable.
Arthur rose from his spot by the fire and came over to Merlin. He snapped his fingers in front of Merlin’s face. “Merlin!”
Merlin shook his head, finally looking away from Morgana. “Sorry. I, um… I got lost, like you said.”
Arthur turned to Morgana, laughing. “What did I tell you?”
Morgana was skeptical; the way Merlin had looked at her was unnerving.
“Thank god you were here, Morgana. If I had been left alone with this idiot, I would’ve surely died.” Arthur put out the fire and helped Morgana to her feet.
Morgana smiled uncertainly, glancing back at Merlin sporadically.
Arthur continued chattering on, oblivious to the tension between his companions. “Well, we should be getting back home. We wouldn’t want to miss your birthday feast, Morgana.” He looked back at Merlin and grinned cheekily. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you get lost again.”
---
The walk back to Camelot was long and filled with awkward silences. Arthur thanked Morgana for healing him, but after that they seemed to run out of things to say to one another.
Merlin couldn’t bring himself to speak to either of them; he was still too immersed in his thoughts.
By dusk, they made it back to the city, and Morgana quickly excused herself to the boys and left for her chambers.
Merlin continued to feel uneasy for the rest of the day. He discussed what he saw with Gaius, and told him that he believed the events he saw to be imminent. Gaius was not as convinced, however. He warned Merlin against putting too much trust in the images he saw.
“Crystals are treacherous. What you saw may not be all that it seemed.”
Merlin tried to listen to him, but he feared for what the future held.
---
The next morning, Merlin came into Arthur’s chambers to find the prince already up and dressed. “You’re up.” Merlin stated incredulously.
Arthur tugged on his boots and hopped up from where he had been sitting on the edge of the bed. “It’s Morgana’s birthday, I have to get her a present.”
“What are you going to get her?” Merlin asked.
Arthur frowned. “I can’t decide. I want it to be something that shows that I know her, but without making it look like-”
“You love her?” Merlin interjected, half under his breath. It was a reflex; he was used to Arthur’s never-ending love story with Morgana.
Arthur shot a glare at his unhelpful servant. “Shut up.”
Merlin shrugged. “So get her jewelry or something. Don’t girls like that stuff?”
“She has a ton of jewelry already,” Arthur mumbled. He wanted it to be something special. She had missed her last birthday with them, after all. He blew out a puff of air in frustration. “I’ll figure something out.”
---
The feast was held that night, and everyone had come to celebrate Morgana’s birthday. The birthday girl herself was practically glowing. She was wearing one of her favorite cream gowns, with her hair ornately done up and swept to one side, with little jewels pinned in intermittently. She looked gorgeous, and everyone had noticed. Including Arthur.
Arthur couldn’t take his eyes off of Morgana for most of the night, despite his attempts to look away. She looked the happiest he had seen her in a long time, and he couldn’t help but watch the intricate little movements of her face as she smiled and laughed.
Morgana was enjoying the feast immensely, and not simply because she was being showered with gifts. It was nice to have people talk to her, people who genuinely seemed to appreciate her presence. Camelot actually felt like home again, if only for a night.
As the feast wore on, Morgana received her gift from Uther. He had a glint to his eye that she couldn’t decipher as he pushed the box towards her. The present was a necklace, and Morgana latched it around her neck.
Uther smiled at her as she put it on, but there was something underneath the façade of happiness, and Morgana could sense it.
Morgana blinked at him curiously. He had barely spoken to her since she returned, and it was obvious that he was slightly doubtful of her miraculous recovery. She smiled tentatively back at him in a show of thanks for the necklace.
Luckily, Arthur had impeccable timing, and interrupted by ordering a servant to bring over his present for Morgana.
As the box was set in front of her, Morgana stood up, grinning from ear to ear. “Arthur,” she murmured brightly, looking over at him.
He nodded at her, trying to contain his own smile. “Happy birthday, Morgana.”
Morgana opened the box carefully and reached inside. She pulled out her present, revealing it to everyone in the room. It was a dagger, and one of the most beautiful pieces of weaponry Morgana had ever seen. It had a golden hilt and sheath, and it was decorated with jewels and covered in intricate patterns. Morgana let out a small gasp as she unsheathed the blade, examining it.
Arthur watched, holding his breath in apprehension. It had taken him a while, but he eventually had remembered that Morgana had once complained about how all the boys got to carry around swords, but she couldn’t because she was a lady. It had been years ago, and this wasn’t exactly a sword, but it was a weapon, and she could easily carry it in her belt. It was something simple, but he felt like it was fitting for her.
Morgana’s grin got even wider, and she turned to Arthur happily. “It’s beautiful,” she gushed.
Arthur smiled, pleased with her reaction. He watched as she flipped the dagger over in her hands, studying every detail.
Morgana continued to get presents, but none were as good as Arthur’s. She graciously accepted them all with a smile, but her eyes kept glancing back at the box with the dagger. As the night grew late, she excused herself to her guests so she could retire. Everyone wished her a happy birthday one last time, and she slipped out of the great hall. Her presents were collected and sent up to her room for her to go through later, except for the dagger, which she carried by herself.
Arthur watched her go, and for some inexplicable reason, found himself rising from the table and following her. He hadn’t been in the habit of trailing after her recently, but he fell into it just like before, echoing her footsteps as she walked to her chambers. The torches in the hall were flickering out, the light dim, but Arthur followed the shadows.
Morgana entered her room and set the dagger down carefully on her armoire. As she started to unpin her hair, she heard a faint knock at the door. Leaving her hair half undone, she walked over to the door, expecting to see a guard laden down with her presents. Instead, she found Arthur on the other side. His forehead was scrunched in the middle, as though he was confused as to why he had ended up outside her door. “Arthur?” she asked.
His tongue was dry, and it stuck to the roof of his mouth. He couldn’t think of anything to say; he didn’t really have a reason for following her. “I just wanted to check on you.”
She smiled at him, her amusement shining in her eyes. “You only saw me a moment ago, Arthur.”
Ducking his head in embarrassment, he managed to articulate, “I wanted to make sure that you had a good birthday.”
Quirking an eyebrow, she retorted, “If this is a subtle way of asking if I liked your present, I thought you would’ve already figured out that I adore it.”
Arthur chuckled, but the vibrations grated on his dry throat and stung. “I’m serious, Morgana.” It was important to him that she was happy now; something deep in him craved her happiness more than anything else.
Her last birthday was one of the worst days of his life. He had searched for her for the whole day, scouring the land for hours without stopping to rest or eat, and he eventually passed out from exhaustion. Merlin found him unconscious in a field and had to drag him home-but he couldn’t tell her that.
Morgana studied his face carefully before softly answering, “Yes, Arthur. I had a wonderful birthday.”
He let out a long breath, his shoulders visibly relaxing.
Morgana gently set a hand on his upper arm, smoothing her fingers across the fabric of his robes. “Thanks for checking on me.”
Her touch seemed to jar him out of his strange behavior, and he stepped back, moving away from her. “You’re welcome,” he mumbled. “Good night, Morgana.”
Her hand fell limply back to her side as she watched him leave.
---
After Arthur left, Morgana sorted through all her presents. She had gotten a copious amount of hairbrushes for some reason, and she stacked them all on the edge of her armoire. As she continued to look, she found a looking glass, addressed as being from some king she had never heard of before. She smiled and studied the mirror, realizing that it must be from her sister. She breathed on the glass, creating a fog on the surface. It revealed a message, asking to meet tonight out in the woods.
She hadn’t seen her sister in several weeks, and she was starting to miss her. It would be nice to see her today, since it was her birthday.
Slipping out of her nightgown, she donned her red dress and matching cloak, along with a pair of boots. As an afterthought, she grabbed her new dagger, tucking it in her belt.
Following her well-worn escape route, she quickly found herself out in the woods and free from the city’s walls. She found Morgause already waiting for her, and she smiled brightly at her sister.
Morgause embraced Morgana, but there was something hesitant about her actions. “Happy birthday, sister,” she whispered as she released Morgana from the hug.
“It’s good to see you,” Morgana told her, still basking in the glow of her enjoyable day.
Morgause could tell that her sister was happy, and she felt guilty for not bringing better news. “Morgana, there’s something you must know.”
Morgana’s smile fell; she knew Morgause well enough to sense when something was wrong.
“I fear that Uther did not buy the story of your revival from the dead. He has been sending out search parties, scouring the land surrounding the isle, looking for the people who supposedly healed you.” Morgause took a breath before continuing, “He has already attacked several Druid camps, but as expected, he has not found anyone who can corroborate your story, as it is untrue. I feel that it will not be long before he discovers the flaws in your lies.”
Morgana’s eyes widened, fear creeping through her bones. “Has he attacked the isle?” she asked, fearing for her sister’s safety as well.
Morgause shook her head. “Do not fret, sister. I am safe on the isle. Any men Uther sent out would get lost in the mist. Only those with magic can make it to the isle on their own.”
While Morgana was relieved that her sister was safe, she was still struck with an unshakable sense of terror. Yet, despite that, she clung to one last hope. Arthur. “Was Arthur part of the attacks?” she asked.
Morgause heard the desperate hopefulness in Morgana’s tone, and it made her flinch. “I do not know for certain. But Morgana, they were his men. He is the king’s son; I do not see how he would not know of this.”
Morgana shook her head. “No,” she breathed. “He wouldn’t do this.”
Morgause reached out and took Morgana’s hands, holding them tightly. “Come back to the isle with me, Morgana. You’ll be safe there. We can continue our fight together. Do not put yourself at risk like this.”
“I can’t leave,” Morgana murmured.
“Morgana-”
Morgana cut off her sister’s plea. “It would only confirm his suspicions. I have to stay.”
Morgause slowly released Morgana’s hands. “I thought you would say that.” She reached into a pocket in her cloak, the muscles in her wrist flexing as she closed her fist around something. “I will not let anyone harm you, sister. If you are set on staying, then take this.” She pulled out a small vial in her hand. Through the cracks in between her fingers, a yellowish liquid was visible inside the bottle.
Morgana opened her hand and allowed Morgause to place the bottle on her palm.
“It’s poison,” Morgause explained. “You must strike now, Morgana, eliminate him before anyone else suspects who you really are.”
Morgana swallowed against the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. “Morgause, I-”
“I know it’s hard, but do not forget, this was our plan from the start. It may not be the way you thought, but he needs to be eliminated, now more than ever.” She forced Morgana’s fingers down, closing them around the bottle. “This poison is barely detectable, it will kill him slowly, and no one will suspect a thing.”
Morgana chewed on the inside of her lip. She did want Uther gone, but if Arthur was no better… she didn’t think she’d be able to stand it.
Morgause leaned forward and kissed Morgana’s cheek. “You can do this, Morgana. You must. It won't be long until he kills us both. He will not rest until he is satisfied.”
Morgana nodded stiffly. “I understand.” She did, but it didn’t take away the sinking feeling in her stomach.
---
When Morgana returned to Camelot, she found the city sleeping. She passed through the courtyard, feeling strangely like she was being watched. She clutched the bottle tightly in her fingers as she crept up the stairs in the castle, her sister’s warning ringing in her ears. Stopping at Uther’s door, her fingers shook as she reached for the handle. She had to do this now, or she’d lose her nerve.
She carefully opened the door to his chambers, making sure not to wake the sleeping king. Her blood was pumping so loudly in her ears; she feared he might hear her pounding heart.
This was a turning point, she knew. If she did this, Uther would die, and Arthur would become king. But if he knew… If she killed his father, he’d never forgive her. Could she accept that fate? Was it enough to live and to be free if she lost Arthur? She forced herself to ignore those thoughts and dragged herself forward.
She stood over Uther’s sleeping form, watching him. The bottle of poison was digging into her skin, she was squeezing it so fiercely. Lifting the bottle, she took out the stopper, leaving it open. If she didn’t do this, how many more would he get the chance to kill? Morgause was right, he wouldn’t stop. This was about more than just her. She was just the weapon.
Extending her arm, she held the bottle over Uther’s lips. She started to tip the bottle, but her hands shook too badly. Arthur’s face kept swimming across her vision, making it hard to concentrate. Using her other hand, she clamped her fingers over her shaking wrist, trying to steady her arm. She carefully tilted the vial, turning it on its side. As she moved, a drop fell from the bottle onto to Uther’s lips, and Morgana watched, mesmerized. The poison ran over his mouth, leaving a wet trail across his skin. The bottle stayed suspended where she held it, but no more liquid escaped over the rim. She couldn’t get her hand to move any more, it was completely stiff. Morgana’s mouth fell open in astonishment as realization swept over her.
She couldn’t do it. She yanked her hand away, releasing her hold on her wrist and using her free hand to cover her mouth and stifle a sob. She backed away, horrified by her actions. She wasn’t a killer, even if Uther did deserve to die a hundred deaths for the suffering he caused. This wasn’t right, she couldn’t take his life. Part of her wanted to, desperately, but a voice in her head was screaming at her to stop, and it sounded suspiciously like Arthur.
Unable to stay there any longer, she ran out of the room, barreling down the halls. Tears were burning her eyes, and she needed to see Arthur. The cool glass of the bottle bit at her flesh as she carried it, but she couldn’t let go.
Morgana rounded a corner; she was nearly at Arthur’s room. She had to see him, he would fix this; he had to fix it. He couldn’t have been a part of the attacks; he would protect her, he had promised he always would. Her breath was coming in shallow pants, but she didn’t stop running.
Morgana didn’t bother to look at her surroundings; she was too focused on Arthur’s door looming in front of her. Therefore, when a torch toppled off the wall and into her path, she was too slow to react to properly avoid it. She jumped back in shock, and her foot caught on the edge of a stair. Already unsteady, she lost her balance and stumbled to the side, causing her to go plummeting down the staircase. She flipped head over heels as she fell, and her screams echoed throughout the stairwell. As she reached the bottom, her head connected with the hard stone, and she lost consciousness immediately.
A man had witnessed it all, and he appeared at the top of the stairs, looking down at Morgana’s broken body. He shook his head miserably at the sight, breathing out, “No.” He hadn’t wanted this. He only meant to stop her from harming Arthur, he hadn’t meant for this to happen.
Taking a deep breath, Merlin forced himself to move. He wasn’t going to fix anything by standing there. He went to Arthur’s room and banged on the door until the prince answered. Before Arthur could ask, Merlin blurted, “It’s Morgana.”
Arthur scrubbed at his eyes and tugged on a shirt, not recognizing Merlin’s sense of urgency in his half asleep state.
Merlin grabbed Arthur’s wrist and pulled him down the hall until they reached the stairs.
As Arthur’s eyes adjusted, he registered the sight in front of him, and he had to grip the wall to keep from falling. The wave of nausea and crushing pain that hit him nearly knocked him off his feet. “Morgana,” he murmured brokenly. His entire being ached, and he forced a gasping breath into his lungs.
Merlin mumbled quietly, “We have to get her to Gaius.”
Arthur could barely hear Merlin’s words, but he nodded numbly. His fingers had gone white from gripping the wall; he relaxed them and made his way down the stairs. The sight of blood trickling down Morgana’s face made him sway, and he nearly tripped. He managed to hold it together for Morgana’s sake, though. Gingerly, he slipped an arm under her knees, and another under her back. He lifted her up carefully, making sure that her head was resting against his shoulder as he moved. He carefully ascended the stairs, trying not to jostle her and make her condition worse.
As quickly as they could manage, Arthur and Merlin took Morgana to Gaius’s chambers.
Gaius was surprised to see them, but he quickly cleared his work bench so Arthur could set Morgana down there.
Arthur didn’t want to let her go, but he knew that Gaius needed to treat her. He tried to stay close, but Gaius kept pushing him out of the way.
“How could this have happened?” Arthur wondered aloud. No one answered him, and he started to pace back and forth across the chambers. Gaius eventually shooed him out, unable to work with the distraction. Arthur left the chambers, but stayed right outside the door, continuing to pace there instead.
Gaius ordered Merlin to get some different herbs to fight infection, and then he set out cleaning and treating the wound on Morgana’s head. He sewed the wound shut, but the prognosis was grim. She was having trouble breathing, and it was clear that her injuries extended far beyond the superficial.
Arthur was still pacing, his worry transforming into nervous energy. He slowed when he noticed Gaius looking at him from the doorway. “Gaius?” he asked, sounding very much like a small little boy.
The physician looked weary. “I’m sorry, Arthur. I can heal her skin, but the skull… her cranium is broken. She’s bleeding inside.”
“No,” Arthur murmured. Anger rose up inside him, and he yelled, “No!” He shoved past Gaius, rushing to Morgana’s side.
Merlin came up to Arthur and pulled him back. “Arthur…”
Arthur struggled against his friend’s arms. “She’s not going to die!”
After a bit of a fight, Merlin managed to pry Arthur away from Morgana and get him up to his own room. Arthur collapsed into his bed, mumbling to himself about how Morgana was going to be fine. Eventually sleep overtook him, and he fell silent.
---
Merlin walked back to his chambers with a heavy heart. He saw Gaius waiting for him, and he sat down next to the older man. “I had to stop her, Gaius.”
Gaius remained silent, letting Merlin talk.
“She had the bottle of poison, the same I saw in my vision. I thought she was going to kill Arthur.”
“Arthur?” Gaius questioned. “I thought you saw her killing Uther?”
Merlin nodded. “I did, but she was headed to Arthur’s room. I couldn’t let her harm him.”
Gaius was skeptical. Merlin had mentioned that Morgana had saved Arthur’s life only a day ago; it didn’t seem likely that she would cure him only to poison him now. Gaius didn’t want to upset Merlin, however, so he decided not to say anything.
“I wanted to stop her, but not like this.” He let his head drop, his eyes studying the floor.
Reaching his arm around Merlin’s back, Gaius tried his best to comfort the boy.
---
The next day, Uther went to see Morgana, playing his role as the loving guardian, but he started to feel ill, and quickly left her in Gaius’s care.
Merlin watched as the rest of the people in the city all mourned, devastated at losing their beloved lady of Camelot, for a second time. He saw Gwen sobbing over Morgana’s sleeping form. She rarely left Morgana’s side since she had heard the news. Merlin could no longer stand to be there, so he left to do his chores for Arthur.
It was possibly a bad decision, for Arthur was even worse. He wasn’t crying or openly mourning, but his pain was abundantly clear in his every movement. He tried to don his armor, but his hands shook, and he ended up throwing things across the room.
Merlin somehow felt obligated to apologize, even if he couldn’t tell Arthur the whole truth. “I’m sorry about Morgana.”
More to himself than Merlin, Arthur mumbled the words that had become his mantra. “She’s going to be fine.” He looked over at Merlin, his eyes pleading. “She came back before, she can do it again.”
Merlin sighed. “This is different. Gaius said-”
“She is going to be fine!” Arthur snapped, his voice edged with hysteria. He sunk into a chair, his elbows settling on the table as he dropped his face into his hands. “She can’t die, Merlin. Not after everything that’s happened. You know how much I…” he trailed off, unable to say it out loud.
Merlin bit down on the inside of his cheek, the guilt overwhelming him. “I know.”
Lifting his head, Arthur stared off into nothingness. “I’d sacrifice my place on the throne for her to see another sunrise.” Truthfully, he’d give up more than that. He’d give up the whole world for her if he must.
Unable to stand it any longer, Merlin turned away. He knew what this would do to Arthur, he had seen it before. He left, making up excuses about helping Gaius so he could escape.
---
After staying with Morgana for most of the morning, Gwen took a break to eat and clean up, since she had been awake most of the night, ever since she heard about the accident. She tried to get some chores done, since she knew that if Morgana awoke, she’d want her dresses cleaned.
It only took about two minutes of staring at Morgana’s dress for Gwen to start crying again. Her head was already throbbing from all the tears she had shed earlier, but it didn’t matter. The thought of losing Morgana for good was horrifying. It had taken months for her to grieve the last time, she wasn’t sure she could go through it again.
Arthur was pacing the halls, a change from pacing around his room, and he heard the muffled sobs coming from under Morgana’s door. He stopped and pushed the door open, revealing Guinevere sitting in the floor, holding one of Morgana’s gowns in her lap.
Her head snapped up when Arthur came in, her eyes glistening with tears. “Arthur,” she cried.
Arthur knelt down in front of her, slowly taking the dress from her hands.
“No,” Gwen choked out, “I have to clean it. She loves this dress, I have to-” A sob erupted from her chest, and she covered her mouth with her hand.
Arthur gently wrapped his arms around Gwen’s shoulders, pulling her in to his chest.
Gwen buried her face in his shirt, taking in several deep breaths. “We already lost her once, I don’t know if I can do it a second time.”
Arthur ran his hand over her hair, trying to comfort her. “I know,” he murmured. His voice sounded hollow, and his eyes were vacant as he stared around Morgana’s room. He could feel Guinevere in his arms, but there was no warmth in her touch.
Gwen could sense that he was distant, and she pulled back from his embrace. She studied his face as he continued to stare. “Arthur?”
His attention went back to Guinevere, but his body was still rigid, and his eyes glassy.
It was painfully familiar to see him this way, and a rush of memories hit Gwen as she watched him. He was broken, just like before, and she didn’t think she’d be able to put him back together this time. Only one person could. “You should be with Morgana,” she told him.
Arthur blinked at her.
There was a double meaning behind her statement, but there was too much happening for Gwen to make it clear for him. She was falling apart, but even through her pain, she could tell, Arthur needed Morgana, and not like he needed her. She had to let him go. But for now, she could be selfish a little while longer; neither of them could take the extra heartache at the moment.
He ducked his head, feeling guilty. He had been trying to avoid going to see Morgana; he didn’t think he could handle it.
Gwen tipped her head in the direction of the door. “Go,” she instructed. “I’ll be fine.”
Arthur helped Guinevere to her feet, kissing the top of her head before leaving her alone in Morgana’s room.
---
After leaving Gwen, Arthur considered going to see Morgana, but every time he neared the stairs leading to the physician’s chambers, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He ended up putting on his armor and going out to practice, even though it was pouring.
He practiced his sword fighting on the training dummy, delivering several well placed blows like he had been trained to do. After a few more minutes, his movements started to get sloppy, and his demeanor much more violent. Ignoring all of the proper moves, he sliced at the dummy in a flurry of brutal attacks. His sword slammed into the head of the fake person, causing it to disconnect from the body and fly through the air, landing several feet away.
Arthur dropped the sword, breathing heavily. He was drenched, the rain getting in his eyes and masking his tears. He couldn’t avoid it any longer, he needed to see Morgana. Even if it was to say goodbye.
---
Arthur crept into Gaius’s chambers, finding it empty, save for the sleeping girl in the middle. He quietly walked over, each step agonizingly slow, his feet feeling like they were encased in lead. There was a chair beside the bed, where Gwen had been sitting most of the day, and Arthur lowered himself into it. He took a deep breath, looking down at Morgana’s face. She looked so pale, her lips were drained of color, and the cut on her temple had faded from an angry red to a deep purple.
He shook his head; it hurt to see her like this. “I won’t let you do this,” he murmured angrily. “I lost you once, I won’t do it again.”
He lifted his arm and reached over the bed, his hand shaking. He grabbed her fingers and squeezed them, trying to stop the tremors. “You can’t die on me.” He swallowed the burgeoning sobs in his throat, refusing to break down. “Do you hear me? You have to fight this. You fight like hell to come back to me, Morgana.”
The tremors in his hand spread through his body, and he eventually let out a strangled cry in order to release the build-up of emotions. He dropped his head, letting it rest against her chest. “I need you to come back.”
Merlin had been in his room and had overheard the conversation. He moved out into the main room, his eyes landing on Arthur, watching as the prince cried over Morgana. The floor creaked as he took a step, and he knew Arthur heard it.
Arthur slowly lifted his head up and looked over at Merlin. He dropped Morgana’s fingers, but didn’t move from her side. “I can’t lose her,” he admitted, his voice still thick with tears. “I can’t.” He looked back down at Morgana’s sleeping form, and whispered in barely audible tones, “I love her.”
Morgana’s finger twitched, but neither man seemed to notice.
Merlin swallowed, the scene breaking his heart. “I know, Arthur.”
Hearing Merlin’s voice seemed to snap him out of his wallowing, and Arthur’s face hardened. “We have to do something.”
“Arthur…” Merlin tried.
Arthur stood up from the chair and walked over to Merlin. “What about a healing spell? She healed my wounds in the woods.”
“But who would-” Merlin started to ask.
“She said Morgause taught her, perhaps she would help. Morgana is her sister, after all.”
Merlin was surprised by Arthur’s suggestion. “Morgause? Arthur, she’s dangerous.”
“I don’t care!” He snapped, his eyes alight with fury. “She could save her.”
Merlin shook his head. “We could never get to her in time. It’s nearly a day’s ride to get to the Isle of the Blessed, and we aren’t even certain that Morgause is still living there.”
Arthur’s shoulders slumped, but he didn’t give up hope yet. A thought occurred to him and he suddenly ranted, “Can’t you do something? You’re a Dragonlord, doesn’t that count for something?”
He thought Arthur had forgotten about that. “Arthur, I can’t-”
Arthur interrupted, “Call the dragon, make him heal her, they can do that can’t they?”
“Perhaps, but it’s not that simple…” He knew that Arthur wanted Morgana back, but if the crystals had been correct, she was dangerous.
Ignoring Merlin’s inner turmoil, Arthur yelled, “Make it simple! I will not let her die, Merlin. Not again, not when I can do something.”
Merlin sighed. It was obvious that Arthur wasn’t going to give up, and he knew that this path would only lead to madness. Maybe it would be best if he did save Morgana. After all, he had never intended to kill her. Giving in, he murmured, “I’ll see what I can do.”
The corner of Arthur’s mouth quirked up into the tiniest half smile, and he clapped a hand over Merlin’s shoulder. “Thank you.”
---
Merlin went out to an empty field beyond Camelot’s walls and summoned the great dragon to meet him. Kilgharrah heeded the call and arrived soon after.
Merlin explained what had happened, how he had tried to stop the future. “As a result of what I did, Morgana is dying.”
Kilgharrah listened intently, commenting when Merlin finished, “To change the future is no simple matter, Merlin. To do so is fraught with danger.”
“I know,” Merlin replied. He looked away from the dragon, quietly requesting, “I want you to help me to save her.”
Merlin braced himself for the dragon’s reaction, expecting him to laugh in his face, but he only received silence in response.
“Will you help?” Merlin asked hesitantly.
Kilgharrah tilted his large head, pondering the situation. “If you wish.”
Merlin felt the sudden urge to laugh. He was shocked that the dragon wasn’t opposed to saving Morgana’s life. “I thought you wanted her to die? You said she was dangerous.”
“It’s true, I did warn you against the witch, but things change.” He bent his neck to better look at Merlin, continuing, “Her path is unclear. Perhaps she is not the threat she once was.”
Merlin was both shocked and relieved at the news, feeling justified now in saving Morgana.
As requested, Kilgharrah gave Merlin temporary healing abilities. The dragon breathed out, covering Merlin in a rush of magic that would allow him to save Morgana.
Stumbling back from the rush of power, Merlin took a moment to recover before quickly making his way back to the castle.
---
When Merlin arrived at his chambers, he found Gwen asleep at Morgana’s bedside. He gently woke her up and told her to go home and get some rest.
She protested at first, but she was too exhausted to fight. She made Merlin promise to call her if Morgana woke up, and he told her that he would.
As Gwen left, Merlin took her place in the seat next to Morgana. He watched Morgana for a moment, studying the way her chest rose and fell with each ragged breath. In the low light of the candles, the shadows and bruises on her face were startling, and he had to tear his eyes away. This was his doing, and he needed to make it right.
Once he was sure that no one was around to witness it, he placed a hand over Morgana’s forehead and mumbled the words that had been etched onto his bones. The spell came out in a deep and raspy voice, with echoes of the language of the dragons underneath it. His hand shook from the amount of power coursing through his veins, and he had to force himself to keep his arm steady.
With one final utterance of the spell, his eyes glowed, and he could feel the breath of life passing through his fingers before it reached Morgana’s chest.
Morgana took in a large gulp of air as the magic healed her from within, her breathing now back to normal. Her skin gradually regained its color, the pinkness returning to her cheeks and the shadows fading from under her eyes. Her lips were no longer dry and cracked, and her wounds were completely healed.
Merlin watched in amazement as the magic did its work. Morgana was still embedded in her sleep, so he left her to recover on her own. He went straight to Arthur’s chambers, knowing that the prince would be waiting for the news.
---
As expected, when Arthur heard that Morgana was going to live, he was ecstatic. He even hugged Merlin, not that he would ever admit it.
After his initial excitement, he contained himself, making sure to keep a lid on his feelings. He desperately wanted to see Morgana, but he stayed away for as long as he could, not fully trusting himself around her. It had taken two months and Morgana nearly dying for him to finally admit that his feelings for her weren’t as nonexistent as he tried to make himself believe. He had never stopped loving her, not even for a second, and the thought terrified him. Therefore, visiting Morgana was not something he wanted to do yet. It would only make things worse, and he wasn’t ready for that.
Gwen, on the other hand, wanted to see Morgana as soon as she could. She didn’t hear the news until nearly midday, and even then, she had to wait. Uther had gone to see the miracle of Morgana’s survival for himself, and he spent a considerable amount of time in Gaius’s chambers. He must have wanted to ensure that his ward was truly cured, Gwen assumed.
After Gaius ran some tests, he declared Morgana completely healthy, and she was released from his care. She was told to try and rest for the remainder of the day though, just in case.
Gwen came to Morgana’s chambers soon after Gaius left, knocking lightly on the door.
“Come in,” Morgana called from the other side.
Gwen opened the door, smiling sweetly at Morgana.
“Gwen,” Morgana breathed. “Come here.” She patted the space next to her on the bed.
Her giddy feeling at seeing Morgana healthy overrode any nervousness she might have felt, considering their tense relationship. She walked over and sat on the bed. “How are you doing?”
“I’ve never been better,” Morgana answered. “Whatever remedy Gaius used worked wonders.”
Gwen choked out a joyful cry. “I’m so glad,” she murmured, her voice heavy with emotion. “I was so worried about you.”
Morgana reached her arm out across the sheets and grasped Guinevere’s hand. “I’m sorry, Gwen.”
Shaking her head, Gwen protested, “No, no, it wasn’t your fault.”
“Not about that.” She squeezed Gwen’s fingers a little tighter. “I’m sorry about everything else. I shouldn’t have gotten so angry with you, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
Gwen’s eyes widened as she realized what Morgana was talking about. “Morgana, I-”
“It doesn’t matter,” Morgana interrupted. “I forgive you.”
Still stuck mid sentence, Gwen’s mouth snapped shut at Morgana’s words.
“You mean too much to me. I won’t let a fight over Arthur, of all people,” Morgana laughed, “ruin our friendship.”
Gwen laughed as well, the sound mixed with a small sob.
“I miss you,” Morgana admitted. When she had woken up that morning, the first thing she had done was look for Gwen, out of habit. The terror of almost dying had left her longing for her friend to hold her and tell her it would be alright.
“I miss you too,” Gwen echoed, a watery smile on her lips. Twisting the hand in Morgana’s grasp, she reached her fingers around and squeezed Morgana’s hand as reassurance.
They stayed like that for a while, until Gwen noticed the setting sun outside the window. “It’s getting late, I should go.”
Morgana still had her grip on Gwen’s hand, and she tugged on it. “Why don’t you stay? You can sleep here, like we did when we were kids.”
Gwen smiled, shaking her head at Morgana. She could never turn Morgana down, however, so she ended up curling up on one side of the bed, staying there for the night.
Morgana fell asleep quickly, her body tired from repairing itself. Gwen remained awake, watching over Morgana as she slept, keeping her safe until morning.
---
The next day, Morgana wrote a letter to her sister. She told her what had happened, and explained that she would not kill Uther Pendragon, no matter how much she wanted to. It may mean that she would have to face his wrath someday, but it was a risk she was going to take. Life was too fragile, she had seen that, and she didn’t want to spend her life filled with hate. She didn’t want to be miserable, and she would never be truly happy if she was constantly obsessed with Uther’s demise. He would die soon enough, and Arthur would be king. As much as she disliked the thought of letting Uther’s reign of terror continue, she couldn’t be the one to stop him, not if it meant she would lose herself in the process. At the end of the note, she wished her sister well, and told her that she hoped that someday they could be together again.
She tied the note to the ankle of a raven and sent the bird out to her sister, hoping that it would reach her. She knew that Morgause wouldn’t be happy with her decision, she would think it reckless, but Morgana could aide her in her vendetta no longer.
There were more important things.
Morgana faintly recalled hearing Arthur talking over her while she was on her deathbed. He needed her, she remembered that. Killing Uther would take her down a path he could not follow, and she couldn’t leave him, not again. Camelot needed her, and she would not abandon them. She would stay and help shape Arthur into a great king, one who would rectify all the damage done by his father. She held onto that faith, and that would have to be enough to help her endure the rest of Uther’s rule. Arthur would make it right; she would make sure of it.
---
Arthur continued to avoid Morgana, walking aimlessly around the castle to distract himself. He ended up walking down into the lower town, and he somehow found himself at Guinevere’s door.
Gwen let him in, noticing the turmoil behind his eyes. She preempted anything he had to say before he could even open his mouth, telling him, “It’s okay, Arthur.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her, his forehead knitting in confusion.
She elaborated, “I know why you’re here, and I understand.”
Arthur wanted to say that he would like very much for her to explain it to him, since he didn’t even know why he was there, but the words caught in his throat. As he stared at her, he realized why his feet had carried him there. He had to tell Gwen the truth about his feelings.
At his silence, Gwen asked, “Arthur?”
He wet his lips slowly, but when he opened his mouth, he only managed to get out, “How?”
Gwen shook her head at him. “I’m not blind, Arthur. I knew this was going to happen.” The lightness to her tone vanished, and she swallowed the lump that formed in her throat, forcing herself to keep talking. “What you had with Morgana… a love like that doesn’t just vanish. It was foolish of me to try and keep you apart.”
“Guinevere, no.” Arthur shook his head. It had always bothered him how little Gwen thought of herself. She was important, even if she couldn’t see it.
“It’s alright, Arthur.” She forced out a smile. “We knew that this could never last. You’re going to be king someday, and you’ll need a great queen by your side.” Knowingly, she added, “Someone like Morgana.”
He shook his head, protesting, “You don’t give yourself enough credit, Guinevere.”
Light, tinkling laughter passed her lips. “Perhaps not. But that doesn’t change the fact that you love Morgana. You always have.”
Arthur ducked his head, unable to deny her claims.
The look on his face was more than enough to confirm her suspicions.
He looked up, meeting Gwen’s eyes. “You’re one of the best people I’ve ever known, Guinevere.” He smiled softly at her. “Know that you’ll always have a place in my heart; nothing will change that.”
Stepping up onto her tiptoes, Gwen kissed his cheek, letting her lips linger for a moment. As she pulled away, she whispered, “Goodbye, Arthur.”
“Goodbye, Guinevere.” He left her house, closing the door behind him. He looked up at the castle, and caught sight of Morgana at her window. Smiling, he made his way back home.
Next Chapter
Fandom: Merlin
Characters/Pairings: Arthur/Morgana, any and all other characters
Word Count: 8,888
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: The chapter is late, but it's long, so yay? Also-- here's the deal, personally I have nothing against the incest when it comes to ArMor, but I didn't give a shit about the retconned storyline of Uther as Morgana's father. So, here's the deal, I'm not explicitly saying they're NOT related, but I'm not saying they are either. So whatever floats your boat is fine, you can believe what you want. I mean, they're probably not siblings in this verse, but it's up to you.
Previous Installment: you and i are a story that never gets told
Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3
---
Trees whizzed by in a blur of brown and green as Arthur, Morgana and Merlin barreled through the forest on foot. Behind them was a horde of bandits, furiously in pursuit.
As they ran, Arthur grumbled between panting breaths, “You just had to go for a ride today, Morgana.”
The trio ducked into a small gulley, stopping to catch their breath. Morgana glared over at Arthur. “You didn’t have to come.”
He shrugged. “It’s my job to protect you.”
As Morgana’s gaze shifted to the other member of their party, Merlin added, “I go where he goes.”
Morgana huffed in annoyance. “It’s not my fault-” she started, but she was interrupted by the yells of the bandits as they rushed towards them.
Roughly grabbing Morgana’s arm, Arthur pulled her towards him and shoved her up the side of the gulley, scrambling up behind her. They all took off running again, ducking under branches and jumping over logs in their path.
They came upon an entryway to a valley, with two giant statues guarding the path. Both Merlin and Morgana could feel the magic emanating from the place, and it gave them pause.
Arthur wasn’t in the mood to be patient, and he pulled Morgana along by her wrist again.
“Arthur.” She attempted to get him to slow down, but he wouldn’t stop. “This is the Valley of the Fallen Kings, we shouldn’t be here.”
“They won’t follow us in here, they wouldn’t dare,” Arthur said, as if that justified treading on sacred ground.
Morgana rolled her eyes and reluctantly followed him, not that she had much of a choice with him dragging her.
After they made it a few steps further, the screams started up again, and Merlin shoved at Arthur and Morgana, forcing them to start running again.
They made it several yards, maintaining a good distance between themselves and the bandits, but suddenly there was a whizzing noise as something cut through the air, and Arthur dropped to the ground. He tugged Morgana down with him, and she landed on her knees on the forest floor.
“Arthur!” she screamed as they fell.
“What happened?” Arthur mumbled.
Merlin rushed to Arthur’s side and tried to lift the prince to his feet, but Arthur couldn’t stand. “An arrow,” Merlin explained.
Morgana watched with wide eyes as Arthur collapsed, an arrow jutting out of his back. “Arthur?” she called, her voice cracking over his name.
Merlin struggled to lift Arthur off the ground, but he managed and started to carry him. Morgana was frozen in shock, and Merlin had to yell at her to get her to move. They managed to find a hidden alcove under some trees in the valley and ducked down there to escape the bandits. Arthur was sprawled on the ground, and Morgana and Merlin were kneeling next to him, hunched over under the branches.
Morgana was eerily calm, the shock stilling her movements and keeping her deathly quiet. Merlin finally had to shake her by the shoulders. “Morgana!” he whispered fiercely. “We have to do something, or we’re going to lose him.”
She came out of her daze; still completely calm, but aware now. Without a word, she reached over and grabbed Merlin’s wrist, twisting it towards her so she could grasp his hand.
Merlin’s eyebrows lifted minutely, and he attempted to pull his hand back, but she wouldn’t let go.
Morgana tightened her grip, twining their fingers together and squeezing until his hand tingled. With her other hand, she rolled Arthur over towards her so she could see the wound. She placed her hand on top of the blood-covered mail, her fingers getting painted in red. She closed her eyes and began to mumble something low beneath her breath. She repeated the same words over and over, but Merlin couldn’t make them out.
As she mumbled, Merlin felt a jolt deep inside him, and he rocked forward from the feeling. Suddenly a warmth spread from his chest, up through his shoulder and down his arm, until it reached where his fingers were connected with Morgana’s. He could feel the energy pouring out of his body and into Morgana’s, and it made him dizzy.
Morgana’s eyes glowed a brilliant golden orange for a moment, and as they faded, she stopped chanting. She released Merlin’s hand, and he took deep, staggering breath as he regained his strength.
“What did you-” Merlin gasped.
Morgana lifted the hand that was pressed to Arthur’s back, revealing his healed skin under the hole in the chainmail. She turned her head and looked at Merlin. “He’ll be fine.”
Merlin was slowly regaining his normal breathing, and he asked, “How?”
Morgana smiled. “Morgause taught me some healing spells. I didn’t have the energy to do it alone, so I borrowed some of yours.”
“Borrowed?” Merlin coughed.
She could tell from the high pitch of his tone that he was suspicious. “I didn’t steal it, Merlin. I just channeled your energy through me, and combined our magic so it was powerful enough to heal Arthur.”
He nodded slowly. Anything that Morgana learned from Morgause could potentially be dangerous, and it made him wary.
It was obvious that Merlin still didn’t trust her, but Arthur was safe now, and that was all she cared about. “Why don’t you go get some water? He’ll be waking up soon.”
Merlin looked back and forth between Morgana and Arthur, debating. Eventually he stood and walked away from the pair, leaving Morgana to look after the prince.
The bandits had passed through the valley by now, and it was safe for Merlin to explore. He found a small stream and headed towards it, planning to fill his water skin. Before he could reach the bank, he heard a noise.
“Emrys.”
Merlin’s head snapped up, and he whirled around, trying to find the source of the sound. It couldn’t be Morgana or Arthur, neither of them knew that name.
“Emrys,” it called again.
Suddenly, there was an elderly man in front of Merlin. It was as though he had appeared out of thin air.
“Come with me, Emrys. I have something to show you,” the man said.
For some inexplicable reason, Merlin felt as though he could trust this man. His water skin long forgotten, he followed the man. They crossed through the valley until they reached an opening in a rock wall, which led to a cave.
“What is this place?” Merlin asked. As they entered, the cave led way to a huge opening. From the ceiling to the floor, the place was lined with crystals, all glowing brightly. The feeling of magic enveloped Merlin like a blanket, it was so potent here.
The old man, Taliesin, replied, “This is the place where magic began. It is the crystal cave.”
Merlin stepped forward as one of the crystals caught his eye. He looked into it and saw images, one of Morgana sitting upon the throne with a crown on her head, and another of him as an old man. There was a flash of Morgana and Arthur too, their swords drawn. Merlin turned away as if he’d been burned. “No,” he gasped.
“Look into them, Emrys. Much will be revealed.”
“No, I’ve been through this before.” He shook his head. Seeing the future had come at a terrible price.
“Perhaps there was a reason you were brought here at this moment in time. The crystals contain futures that are not yet born. The secrets they reveal, Emrys, are unique to you. Look into them, really look.” Taliesin pointed towards the crystals.
Merlin reluctantly turned and looked at the crystals again. As he stared at them, a rush of images flashed through. He saw Morgana walking through the halls of the castle, and a bottle of poison clutched in her fingers. The images showed the poison dripping onto Uther’s lips, and then scenes of Arthur, distraught. Merlin saw Uther, dying. He dropped to his knees, gasping for air. “What was that?” he yelled, but he received no answer.
Taliesin was gone, leaving Merlin alone in the caves. It took Merlin a second to process the images, but when he did, he came to a realization. Morgana was going to kill Uther. He made his way back to the camp where he had left Arthur. The images were still looping through his brain, and it was making him twitch.
As Merlin arrived at the alcove under the trees, he could hear voices. Arthur was awake, and he and Morgana were talking.
Arthur caught sight of Merlin first and scoffed. “I told you, Morgana, he really is the most incompetent person I have ever met. I bet he didn’t even bring any water.”
Morgana looked over at Merlin, an eyebrow raised. “Where have you been? We were worried!”
“She was worried,” Arthur corrected. “I know you better than that. You probably just got lost, as usual.”
Merlin couldn’t tear his gaze away from Morgana. The images from the crystals were seared into the backs of his eyes, and he felt a surge of rage towards her.
“Merlin?” Morgana questioned. His intense stare was making her uncomfortable.
Arthur rose from his spot by the fire and came over to Merlin. He snapped his fingers in front of Merlin’s face. “Merlin!”
Merlin shook his head, finally looking away from Morgana. “Sorry. I, um… I got lost, like you said.”
Arthur turned to Morgana, laughing. “What did I tell you?”
Morgana was skeptical; the way Merlin had looked at her was unnerving.
“Thank god you were here, Morgana. If I had been left alone with this idiot, I would’ve surely died.” Arthur put out the fire and helped Morgana to her feet.
Morgana smiled uncertainly, glancing back at Merlin sporadically.
Arthur continued chattering on, oblivious to the tension between his companions. “Well, we should be getting back home. We wouldn’t want to miss your birthday feast, Morgana.” He looked back at Merlin and grinned cheekily. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you get lost again.”
---
The walk back to Camelot was long and filled with awkward silences. Arthur thanked Morgana for healing him, but after that they seemed to run out of things to say to one another.
Merlin couldn’t bring himself to speak to either of them; he was still too immersed in his thoughts.
By dusk, they made it back to the city, and Morgana quickly excused herself to the boys and left for her chambers.
Merlin continued to feel uneasy for the rest of the day. He discussed what he saw with Gaius, and told him that he believed the events he saw to be imminent. Gaius was not as convinced, however. He warned Merlin against putting too much trust in the images he saw.
“Crystals are treacherous. What you saw may not be all that it seemed.”
Merlin tried to listen to him, but he feared for what the future held.
---
The next morning, Merlin came into Arthur’s chambers to find the prince already up and dressed. “You’re up.” Merlin stated incredulously.
Arthur tugged on his boots and hopped up from where he had been sitting on the edge of the bed. “It’s Morgana’s birthday, I have to get her a present.”
“What are you going to get her?” Merlin asked.
Arthur frowned. “I can’t decide. I want it to be something that shows that I know her, but without making it look like-”
“You love her?” Merlin interjected, half under his breath. It was a reflex; he was used to Arthur’s never-ending love story with Morgana.
Arthur shot a glare at his unhelpful servant. “Shut up.”
Merlin shrugged. “So get her jewelry or something. Don’t girls like that stuff?”
“She has a ton of jewelry already,” Arthur mumbled. He wanted it to be something special. She had missed her last birthday with them, after all. He blew out a puff of air in frustration. “I’ll figure something out.”
---
The feast was held that night, and everyone had come to celebrate Morgana’s birthday. The birthday girl herself was practically glowing. She was wearing one of her favorite cream gowns, with her hair ornately done up and swept to one side, with little jewels pinned in intermittently. She looked gorgeous, and everyone had noticed. Including Arthur.
Arthur couldn’t take his eyes off of Morgana for most of the night, despite his attempts to look away. She looked the happiest he had seen her in a long time, and he couldn’t help but watch the intricate little movements of her face as she smiled and laughed.
Morgana was enjoying the feast immensely, and not simply because she was being showered with gifts. It was nice to have people talk to her, people who genuinely seemed to appreciate her presence. Camelot actually felt like home again, if only for a night.
As the feast wore on, Morgana received her gift from Uther. He had a glint to his eye that she couldn’t decipher as he pushed the box towards her. The present was a necklace, and Morgana latched it around her neck.
Uther smiled at her as she put it on, but there was something underneath the façade of happiness, and Morgana could sense it.
Morgana blinked at him curiously. He had barely spoken to her since she returned, and it was obvious that he was slightly doubtful of her miraculous recovery. She smiled tentatively back at him in a show of thanks for the necklace.
Luckily, Arthur had impeccable timing, and interrupted by ordering a servant to bring over his present for Morgana.
As the box was set in front of her, Morgana stood up, grinning from ear to ear. “Arthur,” she murmured brightly, looking over at him.
He nodded at her, trying to contain his own smile. “Happy birthday, Morgana.”
Morgana opened the box carefully and reached inside. She pulled out her present, revealing it to everyone in the room. It was a dagger, and one of the most beautiful pieces of weaponry Morgana had ever seen. It had a golden hilt and sheath, and it was decorated with jewels and covered in intricate patterns. Morgana let out a small gasp as she unsheathed the blade, examining it.
Arthur watched, holding his breath in apprehension. It had taken him a while, but he eventually had remembered that Morgana had once complained about how all the boys got to carry around swords, but she couldn’t because she was a lady. It had been years ago, and this wasn’t exactly a sword, but it was a weapon, and she could easily carry it in her belt. It was something simple, but he felt like it was fitting for her.
Morgana’s grin got even wider, and she turned to Arthur happily. “It’s beautiful,” she gushed.
Arthur smiled, pleased with her reaction. He watched as she flipped the dagger over in her hands, studying every detail.
Morgana continued to get presents, but none were as good as Arthur’s. She graciously accepted them all with a smile, but her eyes kept glancing back at the box with the dagger. As the night grew late, she excused herself to her guests so she could retire. Everyone wished her a happy birthday one last time, and she slipped out of the great hall. Her presents were collected and sent up to her room for her to go through later, except for the dagger, which she carried by herself.
Arthur watched her go, and for some inexplicable reason, found himself rising from the table and following her. He hadn’t been in the habit of trailing after her recently, but he fell into it just like before, echoing her footsteps as she walked to her chambers. The torches in the hall were flickering out, the light dim, but Arthur followed the shadows.
Morgana entered her room and set the dagger down carefully on her armoire. As she started to unpin her hair, she heard a faint knock at the door. Leaving her hair half undone, she walked over to the door, expecting to see a guard laden down with her presents. Instead, she found Arthur on the other side. His forehead was scrunched in the middle, as though he was confused as to why he had ended up outside her door. “Arthur?” she asked.
His tongue was dry, and it stuck to the roof of his mouth. He couldn’t think of anything to say; he didn’t really have a reason for following her. “I just wanted to check on you.”
She smiled at him, her amusement shining in her eyes. “You only saw me a moment ago, Arthur.”
Ducking his head in embarrassment, he managed to articulate, “I wanted to make sure that you had a good birthday.”
Quirking an eyebrow, she retorted, “If this is a subtle way of asking if I liked your present, I thought you would’ve already figured out that I adore it.”
Arthur chuckled, but the vibrations grated on his dry throat and stung. “I’m serious, Morgana.” It was important to him that she was happy now; something deep in him craved her happiness more than anything else.
Her last birthday was one of the worst days of his life. He had searched for her for the whole day, scouring the land for hours without stopping to rest or eat, and he eventually passed out from exhaustion. Merlin found him unconscious in a field and had to drag him home-but he couldn’t tell her that.
Morgana studied his face carefully before softly answering, “Yes, Arthur. I had a wonderful birthday.”
He let out a long breath, his shoulders visibly relaxing.
Morgana gently set a hand on his upper arm, smoothing her fingers across the fabric of his robes. “Thanks for checking on me.”
Her touch seemed to jar him out of his strange behavior, and he stepped back, moving away from her. “You’re welcome,” he mumbled. “Good night, Morgana.”
Her hand fell limply back to her side as she watched him leave.
---
After Arthur left, Morgana sorted through all her presents. She had gotten a copious amount of hairbrushes for some reason, and she stacked them all on the edge of her armoire. As she continued to look, she found a looking glass, addressed as being from some king she had never heard of before. She smiled and studied the mirror, realizing that it must be from her sister. She breathed on the glass, creating a fog on the surface. It revealed a message, asking to meet tonight out in the woods.
She hadn’t seen her sister in several weeks, and she was starting to miss her. It would be nice to see her today, since it was her birthday.
Slipping out of her nightgown, she donned her red dress and matching cloak, along with a pair of boots. As an afterthought, she grabbed her new dagger, tucking it in her belt.
Following her well-worn escape route, she quickly found herself out in the woods and free from the city’s walls. She found Morgause already waiting for her, and she smiled brightly at her sister.
Morgause embraced Morgana, but there was something hesitant about her actions. “Happy birthday, sister,” she whispered as she released Morgana from the hug.
“It’s good to see you,” Morgana told her, still basking in the glow of her enjoyable day.
Morgause could tell that her sister was happy, and she felt guilty for not bringing better news. “Morgana, there’s something you must know.”
Morgana’s smile fell; she knew Morgause well enough to sense when something was wrong.
“I fear that Uther did not buy the story of your revival from the dead. He has been sending out search parties, scouring the land surrounding the isle, looking for the people who supposedly healed you.” Morgause took a breath before continuing, “He has already attacked several Druid camps, but as expected, he has not found anyone who can corroborate your story, as it is untrue. I feel that it will not be long before he discovers the flaws in your lies.”
Morgana’s eyes widened, fear creeping through her bones. “Has he attacked the isle?” she asked, fearing for her sister’s safety as well.
Morgause shook her head. “Do not fret, sister. I am safe on the isle. Any men Uther sent out would get lost in the mist. Only those with magic can make it to the isle on their own.”
While Morgana was relieved that her sister was safe, she was still struck with an unshakable sense of terror. Yet, despite that, she clung to one last hope. Arthur. “Was Arthur part of the attacks?” she asked.
Morgause heard the desperate hopefulness in Morgana’s tone, and it made her flinch. “I do not know for certain. But Morgana, they were his men. He is the king’s son; I do not see how he would not know of this.”
Morgana shook her head. “No,” she breathed. “He wouldn’t do this.”
Morgause reached out and took Morgana’s hands, holding them tightly. “Come back to the isle with me, Morgana. You’ll be safe there. We can continue our fight together. Do not put yourself at risk like this.”
“I can’t leave,” Morgana murmured.
“Morgana-”
Morgana cut off her sister’s plea. “It would only confirm his suspicions. I have to stay.”
Morgause slowly released Morgana’s hands. “I thought you would say that.” She reached into a pocket in her cloak, the muscles in her wrist flexing as she closed her fist around something. “I will not let anyone harm you, sister. If you are set on staying, then take this.” She pulled out a small vial in her hand. Through the cracks in between her fingers, a yellowish liquid was visible inside the bottle.
Morgana opened her hand and allowed Morgause to place the bottle on her palm.
“It’s poison,” Morgause explained. “You must strike now, Morgana, eliminate him before anyone else suspects who you really are.”
Morgana swallowed against the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. “Morgause, I-”
“I know it’s hard, but do not forget, this was our plan from the start. It may not be the way you thought, but he needs to be eliminated, now more than ever.” She forced Morgana’s fingers down, closing them around the bottle. “This poison is barely detectable, it will kill him slowly, and no one will suspect a thing.”
Morgana chewed on the inside of her lip. She did want Uther gone, but if Arthur was no better… she didn’t think she’d be able to stand it.
Morgause leaned forward and kissed Morgana’s cheek. “You can do this, Morgana. You must. It won't be long until he kills us both. He will not rest until he is satisfied.”
Morgana nodded stiffly. “I understand.” She did, but it didn’t take away the sinking feeling in her stomach.
---
When Morgana returned to Camelot, she found the city sleeping. She passed through the courtyard, feeling strangely like she was being watched. She clutched the bottle tightly in her fingers as she crept up the stairs in the castle, her sister’s warning ringing in her ears. Stopping at Uther’s door, her fingers shook as she reached for the handle. She had to do this now, or she’d lose her nerve.
She carefully opened the door to his chambers, making sure not to wake the sleeping king. Her blood was pumping so loudly in her ears; she feared he might hear her pounding heart.
This was a turning point, she knew. If she did this, Uther would die, and Arthur would become king. But if he knew… If she killed his father, he’d never forgive her. Could she accept that fate? Was it enough to live and to be free if she lost Arthur? She forced herself to ignore those thoughts and dragged herself forward.
She stood over Uther’s sleeping form, watching him. The bottle of poison was digging into her skin, she was squeezing it so fiercely. Lifting the bottle, she took out the stopper, leaving it open. If she didn’t do this, how many more would he get the chance to kill? Morgause was right, he wouldn’t stop. This was about more than just her. She was just the weapon.
Extending her arm, she held the bottle over Uther’s lips. She started to tip the bottle, but her hands shook too badly. Arthur’s face kept swimming across her vision, making it hard to concentrate. Using her other hand, she clamped her fingers over her shaking wrist, trying to steady her arm. She carefully tilted the vial, turning it on its side. As she moved, a drop fell from the bottle onto to Uther’s lips, and Morgana watched, mesmerized. The poison ran over his mouth, leaving a wet trail across his skin. The bottle stayed suspended where she held it, but no more liquid escaped over the rim. She couldn’t get her hand to move any more, it was completely stiff. Morgana’s mouth fell open in astonishment as realization swept over her.
She couldn’t do it. She yanked her hand away, releasing her hold on her wrist and using her free hand to cover her mouth and stifle a sob. She backed away, horrified by her actions. She wasn’t a killer, even if Uther did deserve to die a hundred deaths for the suffering he caused. This wasn’t right, she couldn’t take his life. Part of her wanted to, desperately, but a voice in her head was screaming at her to stop, and it sounded suspiciously like Arthur.
Unable to stay there any longer, she ran out of the room, barreling down the halls. Tears were burning her eyes, and she needed to see Arthur. The cool glass of the bottle bit at her flesh as she carried it, but she couldn’t let go.
Morgana rounded a corner; she was nearly at Arthur’s room. She had to see him, he would fix this; he had to fix it. He couldn’t have been a part of the attacks; he would protect her, he had promised he always would. Her breath was coming in shallow pants, but she didn’t stop running.
Morgana didn’t bother to look at her surroundings; she was too focused on Arthur’s door looming in front of her. Therefore, when a torch toppled off the wall and into her path, she was too slow to react to properly avoid it. She jumped back in shock, and her foot caught on the edge of a stair. Already unsteady, she lost her balance and stumbled to the side, causing her to go plummeting down the staircase. She flipped head over heels as she fell, and her screams echoed throughout the stairwell. As she reached the bottom, her head connected with the hard stone, and she lost consciousness immediately.
A man had witnessed it all, and he appeared at the top of the stairs, looking down at Morgana’s broken body. He shook his head miserably at the sight, breathing out, “No.” He hadn’t wanted this. He only meant to stop her from harming Arthur, he hadn’t meant for this to happen.
Taking a deep breath, Merlin forced himself to move. He wasn’t going to fix anything by standing there. He went to Arthur’s room and banged on the door until the prince answered. Before Arthur could ask, Merlin blurted, “It’s Morgana.”
Arthur scrubbed at his eyes and tugged on a shirt, not recognizing Merlin’s sense of urgency in his half asleep state.
Merlin grabbed Arthur’s wrist and pulled him down the hall until they reached the stairs.
As Arthur’s eyes adjusted, he registered the sight in front of him, and he had to grip the wall to keep from falling. The wave of nausea and crushing pain that hit him nearly knocked him off his feet. “Morgana,” he murmured brokenly. His entire being ached, and he forced a gasping breath into his lungs.
Merlin mumbled quietly, “We have to get her to Gaius.”
Arthur could barely hear Merlin’s words, but he nodded numbly. His fingers had gone white from gripping the wall; he relaxed them and made his way down the stairs. The sight of blood trickling down Morgana’s face made him sway, and he nearly tripped. He managed to hold it together for Morgana’s sake, though. Gingerly, he slipped an arm under her knees, and another under her back. He lifted her up carefully, making sure that her head was resting against his shoulder as he moved. He carefully ascended the stairs, trying not to jostle her and make her condition worse.
As quickly as they could manage, Arthur and Merlin took Morgana to Gaius’s chambers.
Gaius was surprised to see them, but he quickly cleared his work bench so Arthur could set Morgana down there.
Arthur didn’t want to let her go, but he knew that Gaius needed to treat her. He tried to stay close, but Gaius kept pushing him out of the way.
“How could this have happened?” Arthur wondered aloud. No one answered him, and he started to pace back and forth across the chambers. Gaius eventually shooed him out, unable to work with the distraction. Arthur left the chambers, but stayed right outside the door, continuing to pace there instead.
Gaius ordered Merlin to get some different herbs to fight infection, and then he set out cleaning and treating the wound on Morgana’s head. He sewed the wound shut, but the prognosis was grim. She was having trouble breathing, and it was clear that her injuries extended far beyond the superficial.
Arthur was still pacing, his worry transforming into nervous energy. He slowed when he noticed Gaius looking at him from the doorway. “Gaius?” he asked, sounding very much like a small little boy.
The physician looked weary. “I’m sorry, Arthur. I can heal her skin, but the skull… her cranium is broken. She’s bleeding inside.”
“No,” Arthur murmured. Anger rose up inside him, and he yelled, “No!” He shoved past Gaius, rushing to Morgana’s side.
Merlin came up to Arthur and pulled him back. “Arthur…”
Arthur struggled against his friend’s arms. “She’s not going to die!”
After a bit of a fight, Merlin managed to pry Arthur away from Morgana and get him up to his own room. Arthur collapsed into his bed, mumbling to himself about how Morgana was going to be fine. Eventually sleep overtook him, and he fell silent.
---
Merlin walked back to his chambers with a heavy heart. He saw Gaius waiting for him, and he sat down next to the older man. “I had to stop her, Gaius.”
Gaius remained silent, letting Merlin talk.
“She had the bottle of poison, the same I saw in my vision. I thought she was going to kill Arthur.”
“Arthur?” Gaius questioned. “I thought you saw her killing Uther?”
Merlin nodded. “I did, but she was headed to Arthur’s room. I couldn’t let her harm him.”
Gaius was skeptical. Merlin had mentioned that Morgana had saved Arthur’s life only a day ago; it didn’t seem likely that she would cure him only to poison him now. Gaius didn’t want to upset Merlin, however, so he decided not to say anything.
“I wanted to stop her, but not like this.” He let his head drop, his eyes studying the floor.
Reaching his arm around Merlin’s back, Gaius tried his best to comfort the boy.
---
The next day, Uther went to see Morgana, playing his role as the loving guardian, but he started to feel ill, and quickly left her in Gaius’s care.
Merlin watched as the rest of the people in the city all mourned, devastated at losing their beloved lady of Camelot, for a second time. He saw Gwen sobbing over Morgana’s sleeping form. She rarely left Morgana’s side since she had heard the news. Merlin could no longer stand to be there, so he left to do his chores for Arthur.
It was possibly a bad decision, for Arthur was even worse. He wasn’t crying or openly mourning, but his pain was abundantly clear in his every movement. He tried to don his armor, but his hands shook, and he ended up throwing things across the room.
Merlin somehow felt obligated to apologize, even if he couldn’t tell Arthur the whole truth. “I’m sorry about Morgana.”
More to himself than Merlin, Arthur mumbled the words that had become his mantra. “She’s going to be fine.” He looked over at Merlin, his eyes pleading. “She came back before, she can do it again.”
Merlin sighed. “This is different. Gaius said-”
“She is going to be fine!” Arthur snapped, his voice edged with hysteria. He sunk into a chair, his elbows settling on the table as he dropped his face into his hands. “She can’t die, Merlin. Not after everything that’s happened. You know how much I…” he trailed off, unable to say it out loud.
Merlin bit down on the inside of his cheek, the guilt overwhelming him. “I know.”
Lifting his head, Arthur stared off into nothingness. “I’d sacrifice my place on the throne for her to see another sunrise.” Truthfully, he’d give up more than that. He’d give up the whole world for her if he must.
Unable to stand it any longer, Merlin turned away. He knew what this would do to Arthur, he had seen it before. He left, making up excuses about helping Gaius so he could escape.
---
After staying with Morgana for most of the morning, Gwen took a break to eat and clean up, since she had been awake most of the night, ever since she heard about the accident. She tried to get some chores done, since she knew that if Morgana awoke, she’d want her dresses cleaned.
It only took about two minutes of staring at Morgana’s dress for Gwen to start crying again. Her head was already throbbing from all the tears she had shed earlier, but it didn’t matter. The thought of losing Morgana for good was horrifying. It had taken months for her to grieve the last time, she wasn’t sure she could go through it again.
Arthur was pacing the halls, a change from pacing around his room, and he heard the muffled sobs coming from under Morgana’s door. He stopped and pushed the door open, revealing Guinevere sitting in the floor, holding one of Morgana’s gowns in her lap.
Her head snapped up when Arthur came in, her eyes glistening with tears. “Arthur,” she cried.
Arthur knelt down in front of her, slowly taking the dress from her hands.
“No,” Gwen choked out, “I have to clean it. She loves this dress, I have to-” A sob erupted from her chest, and she covered her mouth with her hand.
Arthur gently wrapped his arms around Gwen’s shoulders, pulling her in to his chest.
Gwen buried her face in his shirt, taking in several deep breaths. “We already lost her once, I don’t know if I can do it a second time.”
Arthur ran his hand over her hair, trying to comfort her. “I know,” he murmured. His voice sounded hollow, and his eyes were vacant as he stared around Morgana’s room. He could feel Guinevere in his arms, but there was no warmth in her touch.
Gwen could sense that he was distant, and she pulled back from his embrace. She studied his face as he continued to stare. “Arthur?”
His attention went back to Guinevere, but his body was still rigid, and his eyes glassy.
It was painfully familiar to see him this way, and a rush of memories hit Gwen as she watched him. He was broken, just like before, and she didn’t think she’d be able to put him back together this time. Only one person could. “You should be with Morgana,” she told him.
Arthur blinked at her.
There was a double meaning behind her statement, but there was too much happening for Gwen to make it clear for him. She was falling apart, but even through her pain, she could tell, Arthur needed Morgana, and not like he needed her. She had to let him go. But for now, she could be selfish a little while longer; neither of them could take the extra heartache at the moment.
He ducked his head, feeling guilty. He had been trying to avoid going to see Morgana; he didn’t think he could handle it.
Gwen tipped her head in the direction of the door. “Go,” she instructed. “I’ll be fine.”
Arthur helped Guinevere to her feet, kissing the top of her head before leaving her alone in Morgana’s room.
---
After leaving Gwen, Arthur considered going to see Morgana, but every time he neared the stairs leading to the physician’s chambers, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He ended up putting on his armor and going out to practice, even though it was pouring.
He practiced his sword fighting on the training dummy, delivering several well placed blows like he had been trained to do. After a few more minutes, his movements started to get sloppy, and his demeanor much more violent. Ignoring all of the proper moves, he sliced at the dummy in a flurry of brutal attacks. His sword slammed into the head of the fake person, causing it to disconnect from the body and fly through the air, landing several feet away.
Arthur dropped the sword, breathing heavily. He was drenched, the rain getting in his eyes and masking his tears. He couldn’t avoid it any longer, he needed to see Morgana. Even if it was to say goodbye.
---
Arthur crept into Gaius’s chambers, finding it empty, save for the sleeping girl in the middle. He quietly walked over, each step agonizingly slow, his feet feeling like they were encased in lead. There was a chair beside the bed, where Gwen had been sitting most of the day, and Arthur lowered himself into it. He took a deep breath, looking down at Morgana’s face. She looked so pale, her lips were drained of color, and the cut on her temple had faded from an angry red to a deep purple.
He shook his head; it hurt to see her like this. “I won’t let you do this,” he murmured angrily. “I lost you once, I won’t do it again.”
He lifted his arm and reached over the bed, his hand shaking. He grabbed her fingers and squeezed them, trying to stop the tremors. “You can’t die on me.” He swallowed the burgeoning sobs in his throat, refusing to break down. “Do you hear me? You have to fight this. You fight like hell to come back to me, Morgana.”
The tremors in his hand spread through his body, and he eventually let out a strangled cry in order to release the build-up of emotions. He dropped his head, letting it rest against her chest. “I need you to come back.”
Merlin had been in his room and had overheard the conversation. He moved out into the main room, his eyes landing on Arthur, watching as the prince cried over Morgana. The floor creaked as he took a step, and he knew Arthur heard it.
Arthur slowly lifted his head up and looked over at Merlin. He dropped Morgana’s fingers, but didn’t move from her side. “I can’t lose her,” he admitted, his voice still thick with tears. “I can’t.” He looked back down at Morgana’s sleeping form, and whispered in barely audible tones, “I love her.”
Morgana’s finger twitched, but neither man seemed to notice.
Merlin swallowed, the scene breaking his heart. “I know, Arthur.”
Hearing Merlin’s voice seemed to snap him out of his wallowing, and Arthur’s face hardened. “We have to do something.”
“Arthur…” Merlin tried.
Arthur stood up from the chair and walked over to Merlin. “What about a healing spell? She healed my wounds in the woods.”
“But who would-” Merlin started to ask.
“She said Morgause taught her, perhaps she would help. Morgana is her sister, after all.”
Merlin was surprised by Arthur’s suggestion. “Morgause? Arthur, she’s dangerous.”
“I don’t care!” He snapped, his eyes alight with fury. “She could save her.”
Merlin shook his head. “We could never get to her in time. It’s nearly a day’s ride to get to the Isle of the Blessed, and we aren’t even certain that Morgause is still living there.”
Arthur’s shoulders slumped, but he didn’t give up hope yet. A thought occurred to him and he suddenly ranted, “Can’t you do something? You’re a Dragonlord, doesn’t that count for something?”
He thought Arthur had forgotten about that. “Arthur, I can’t-”
Arthur interrupted, “Call the dragon, make him heal her, they can do that can’t they?”
“Perhaps, but it’s not that simple…” He knew that Arthur wanted Morgana back, but if the crystals had been correct, she was dangerous.
Ignoring Merlin’s inner turmoil, Arthur yelled, “Make it simple! I will not let her die, Merlin. Not again, not when I can do something.”
Merlin sighed. It was obvious that Arthur wasn’t going to give up, and he knew that this path would only lead to madness. Maybe it would be best if he did save Morgana. After all, he had never intended to kill her. Giving in, he murmured, “I’ll see what I can do.”
The corner of Arthur’s mouth quirked up into the tiniest half smile, and he clapped a hand over Merlin’s shoulder. “Thank you.”
---
Merlin went out to an empty field beyond Camelot’s walls and summoned the great dragon to meet him. Kilgharrah heeded the call and arrived soon after.
Merlin explained what had happened, how he had tried to stop the future. “As a result of what I did, Morgana is dying.”
Kilgharrah listened intently, commenting when Merlin finished, “To change the future is no simple matter, Merlin. To do so is fraught with danger.”
“I know,” Merlin replied. He looked away from the dragon, quietly requesting, “I want you to help me to save her.”
Merlin braced himself for the dragon’s reaction, expecting him to laugh in his face, but he only received silence in response.
“Will you help?” Merlin asked hesitantly.
Kilgharrah tilted his large head, pondering the situation. “If you wish.”
Merlin felt the sudden urge to laugh. He was shocked that the dragon wasn’t opposed to saving Morgana’s life. “I thought you wanted her to die? You said she was dangerous.”
“It’s true, I did warn you against the witch, but things change.” He bent his neck to better look at Merlin, continuing, “Her path is unclear. Perhaps she is not the threat she once was.”
Merlin was both shocked and relieved at the news, feeling justified now in saving Morgana.
As requested, Kilgharrah gave Merlin temporary healing abilities. The dragon breathed out, covering Merlin in a rush of magic that would allow him to save Morgana.
Stumbling back from the rush of power, Merlin took a moment to recover before quickly making his way back to the castle.
---
When Merlin arrived at his chambers, he found Gwen asleep at Morgana’s bedside. He gently woke her up and told her to go home and get some rest.
She protested at first, but she was too exhausted to fight. She made Merlin promise to call her if Morgana woke up, and he told her that he would.
As Gwen left, Merlin took her place in the seat next to Morgana. He watched Morgana for a moment, studying the way her chest rose and fell with each ragged breath. In the low light of the candles, the shadows and bruises on her face were startling, and he had to tear his eyes away. This was his doing, and he needed to make it right.
Once he was sure that no one was around to witness it, he placed a hand over Morgana’s forehead and mumbled the words that had been etched onto his bones. The spell came out in a deep and raspy voice, with echoes of the language of the dragons underneath it. His hand shook from the amount of power coursing through his veins, and he had to force himself to keep his arm steady.
With one final utterance of the spell, his eyes glowed, and he could feel the breath of life passing through his fingers before it reached Morgana’s chest.
Morgana took in a large gulp of air as the magic healed her from within, her breathing now back to normal. Her skin gradually regained its color, the pinkness returning to her cheeks and the shadows fading from under her eyes. Her lips were no longer dry and cracked, and her wounds were completely healed.
Merlin watched in amazement as the magic did its work. Morgana was still embedded in her sleep, so he left her to recover on her own. He went straight to Arthur’s chambers, knowing that the prince would be waiting for the news.
---
As expected, when Arthur heard that Morgana was going to live, he was ecstatic. He even hugged Merlin, not that he would ever admit it.
After his initial excitement, he contained himself, making sure to keep a lid on his feelings. He desperately wanted to see Morgana, but he stayed away for as long as he could, not fully trusting himself around her. It had taken two months and Morgana nearly dying for him to finally admit that his feelings for her weren’t as nonexistent as he tried to make himself believe. He had never stopped loving her, not even for a second, and the thought terrified him. Therefore, visiting Morgana was not something he wanted to do yet. It would only make things worse, and he wasn’t ready for that.
Gwen, on the other hand, wanted to see Morgana as soon as she could. She didn’t hear the news until nearly midday, and even then, she had to wait. Uther had gone to see the miracle of Morgana’s survival for himself, and he spent a considerable amount of time in Gaius’s chambers. He must have wanted to ensure that his ward was truly cured, Gwen assumed.
After Gaius ran some tests, he declared Morgana completely healthy, and she was released from his care. She was told to try and rest for the remainder of the day though, just in case.
Gwen came to Morgana’s chambers soon after Gaius left, knocking lightly on the door.
“Come in,” Morgana called from the other side.
Gwen opened the door, smiling sweetly at Morgana.
“Gwen,” Morgana breathed. “Come here.” She patted the space next to her on the bed.
Her giddy feeling at seeing Morgana healthy overrode any nervousness she might have felt, considering their tense relationship. She walked over and sat on the bed. “How are you doing?”
“I’ve never been better,” Morgana answered. “Whatever remedy Gaius used worked wonders.”
Gwen choked out a joyful cry. “I’m so glad,” she murmured, her voice heavy with emotion. “I was so worried about you.”
Morgana reached her arm out across the sheets and grasped Guinevere’s hand. “I’m sorry, Gwen.”
Shaking her head, Gwen protested, “No, no, it wasn’t your fault.”
“Not about that.” She squeezed Gwen’s fingers a little tighter. “I’m sorry about everything else. I shouldn’t have gotten so angry with you, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
Gwen’s eyes widened as she realized what Morgana was talking about. “Morgana, I-”
“It doesn’t matter,” Morgana interrupted. “I forgive you.”
Still stuck mid sentence, Gwen’s mouth snapped shut at Morgana’s words.
“You mean too much to me. I won’t let a fight over Arthur, of all people,” Morgana laughed, “ruin our friendship.”
Gwen laughed as well, the sound mixed with a small sob.
“I miss you,” Morgana admitted. When she had woken up that morning, the first thing she had done was look for Gwen, out of habit. The terror of almost dying had left her longing for her friend to hold her and tell her it would be alright.
“I miss you too,” Gwen echoed, a watery smile on her lips. Twisting the hand in Morgana’s grasp, she reached her fingers around and squeezed Morgana’s hand as reassurance.
They stayed like that for a while, until Gwen noticed the setting sun outside the window. “It’s getting late, I should go.”
Morgana still had her grip on Gwen’s hand, and she tugged on it. “Why don’t you stay? You can sleep here, like we did when we were kids.”
Gwen smiled, shaking her head at Morgana. She could never turn Morgana down, however, so she ended up curling up on one side of the bed, staying there for the night.
Morgana fell asleep quickly, her body tired from repairing itself. Gwen remained awake, watching over Morgana as she slept, keeping her safe until morning.
---
The next day, Morgana wrote a letter to her sister. She told her what had happened, and explained that she would not kill Uther Pendragon, no matter how much she wanted to. It may mean that she would have to face his wrath someday, but it was a risk she was going to take. Life was too fragile, she had seen that, and she didn’t want to spend her life filled with hate. She didn’t want to be miserable, and she would never be truly happy if she was constantly obsessed with Uther’s demise. He would die soon enough, and Arthur would be king. As much as she disliked the thought of letting Uther’s reign of terror continue, she couldn’t be the one to stop him, not if it meant she would lose herself in the process. At the end of the note, she wished her sister well, and told her that she hoped that someday they could be together again.
She tied the note to the ankle of a raven and sent the bird out to her sister, hoping that it would reach her. She knew that Morgause wouldn’t be happy with her decision, she would think it reckless, but Morgana could aide her in her vendetta no longer.
There were more important things.
Morgana faintly recalled hearing Arthur talking over her while she was on her deathbed. He needed her, she remembered that. Killing Uther would take her down a path he could not follow, and she couldn’t leave him, not again. Camelot needed her, and she would not abandon them. She would stay and help shape Arthur into a great king, one who would rectify all the damage done by his father. She held onto that faith, and that would have to be enough to help her endure the rest of Uther’s rule. Arthur would make it right; she would make sure of it.
---
Arthur continued to avoid Morgana, walking aimlessly around the castle to distract himself. He ended up walking down into the lower town, and he somehow found himself at Guinevere’s door.
Gwen let him in, noticing the turmoil behind his eyes. She preempted anything he had to say before he could even open his mouth, telling him, “It’s okay, Arthur.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her, his forehead knitting in confusion.
She elaborated, “I know why you’re here, and I understand.”
Arthur wanted to say that he would like very much for her to explain it to him, since he didn’t even know why he was there, but the words caught in his throat. As he stared at her, he realized why his feet had carried him there. He had to tell Gwen the truth about his feelings.
At his silence, Gwen asked, “Arthur?”
He wet his lips slowly, but when he opened his mouth, he only managed to get out, “How?”
Gwen shook her head at him. “I’m not blind, Arthur. I knew this was going to happen.” The lightness to her tone vanished, and she swallowed the lump that formed in her throat, forcing herself to keep talking. “What you had with Morgana… a love like that doesn’t just vanish. It was foolish of me to try and keep you apart.”
“Guinevere, no.” Arthur shook his head. It had always bothered him how little Gwen thought of herself. She was important, even if she couldn’t see it.
“It’s alright, Arthur.” She forced out a smile. “We knew that this could never last. You’re going to be king someday, and you’ll need a great queen by your side.” Knowingly, she added, “Someone like Morgana.”
He shook his head, protesting, “You don’t give yourself enough credit, Guinevere.”
Light, tinkling laughter passed her lips. “Perhaps not. But that doesn’t change the fact that you love Morgana. You always have.”
Arthur ducked his head, unable to deny her claims.
The look on his face was more than enough to confirm her suspicions.
He looked up, meeting Gwen’s eyes. “You’re one of the best people I’ve ever known, Guinevere.” He smiled softly at her. “Know that you’ll always have a place in my heart; nothing will change that.”
Stepping up onto her tiptoes, Gwen kissed his cheek, letting her lips linger for a moment. As she pulled away, she whispered, “Goodbye, Arthur.”
“Goodbye, Guinevere.” He left her house, closing the door behind him. He looked up at the castle, and caught sight of Morgana at her window. Smiling, he made his way back home.
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