She loved him once. No not love- a crush. At least that's what she tells herself now.
When Morgana first saw him it was during an execution. She had was disgusted at Uther - she refuses to call him her father- for executing an innocent man, for magic users were innocent in her eyes. She never understood why, but she always imagined herself in the sorcerers place. But, of course, being in a kingdom where magic was outlawed and punishable by death, no-one understood. And certainly not Uther. Since she was young she had cut herself from the world and constantly felt alone. Then she saw him in the crowd. A mere boy in the crowd with a red neckerchief and cheekbones that could cut glass, looking up horrified at the king . Handsome in a boyish way which she never knew she preferred until now, but that's not what kept her from looking away from him. The moment she saw his eyes she was hooked. They were so clear and blue and innocent, but it wasn't just that. He never once looked at her, but as soon as she looked in those orbs she felt a tug to him, and a cosy feeling held her in its arms and warmed her like a cloak. And, for once in her life, she didn't feel alone. Then the sorcerer was executed and she finally looked away.
As a consequence of an innocent man's death, Uther called for a celebration. Naturally. She protested all she could, but even the King's ward has only so much power. So she was going unaccompanied, like she would go with Arthur! Prat! But still, she spent a good couple of hours picking the right outfit, keeping a certain large eared boy firmly out of her thoughts, despite the warm feeling returning as she prepared for the evening. When the time of the feast finally arrived, she knew she looked divine. Every single mans eyes were on her, and some married, yet she was searching for something she wasn't sure of. Her eyes then met him. With him now looking at her, the pull was even stronger. It was like something was connecting them from within their souls, something magical. As she strode past him, determined not to look directly at him, she heard Gaius, the court physician, exclaim a name under his breath. She held back a smile. Merlin. Finally, a name to a face. The evening was an eventful one, which ended with Merlin becoming Arthur's manservant. The fact that she talked to Arthur more often after that was pure coincidence.
Weeks passed and very little changed between her and Merlin. Then the druid boy. Merlin had stormed in and had asked her to help him keep the druid boy safe. He hadn't been frightened by the druid boy's magic, showed distaste at an execution of, in her mind, an innocent man and most of all, listened, truly listened to her. She had found a kindred spirit. She had found a friend.
A year passed and she had made a shocking discovery, that had been festering in the back of her mind for years, but remained undiscovered and unanswered. She had magic. It was the only explanation for everything. She was constantly scared, with no-one she could tell, no-one she could trust. Apart from him. Merlin. He believed her, he trusted her, he worried about her, he sent her flowers. And she no longer wanted to be just his friend. She was head-over-heels in love with this gangly, big-eared servant with a sunny smile to light up anyone's day. This only made the incidentmore painful. This boy, this seemingly innocent boy betrayed her, tore her heart out and repeatedly stomped on it. Because, he, the man she was so madly in love with poisoned her. And as she fell to the floor, desperately gasping for air, and stared into his oh so amazing eyes, she didn't see the tears. She didn't see the hurt or the guilt. All she saw was that the love of her life tried to kill her. And it changed her.
Sometimes she wonders how he can do such awful, evil things, yet still have those clear blue eyes and the cheery smile. It makes her want to scream and shout in his face. It makes her want to scratch out his eyes and lose the will to smile. So she feels a slight satisfaction when through the years, that smile begins to fade. But not as much satisfaction as she thought.
Now she's alone, and knows she can only trust herself. Instead of daydreaming about his smile and their imaginary relationships, she plots ways to destroy and kill him. And no doubt he does the same. Yet, for some reason, they have never succeeded. She hates him. She really does. She hates how he betrayed her she hates how he killed her sister and who knows how many others, she hates him because he's on the wrong side and she hates that he ruins her plans. But most of all, she hates how when she looks at him, a warm feeling surrounds her and her heart's, her cold, damaged heart, tries to pull her to him
She used to love him. And in a way, she still does.