I do not own the Arthurian legends, nor do I own the BBC series. If I owned the series, Freya would so have just disappeared after true love broke the curse and would have returned to save the day at some point...but I digress.
Mentions of character death in this one, though I doubt many people will be crying because of it.
Morgana could not sleep this night. She could not allow herself to sleep. It was bad enough dreaming bits and snatches of terrible things she did not know, only that they would happen. Dreaming of what she knew already was beyond what she could handle.
She had gotten word of the chimera bite about twelve hours ago—Uther felled within half an hour of the first time in ten years he had set foot outside his city walls. His horse had stumbled in the deep snow, Gwen had relayed before leaving for the night, and had not been able to get out of the way of the beast's tail in time to avoid being mauled by it. The wounds that the creature inflicted with its other heads and paws were gruesome enough that Morgana was not to be allowed to see her guardian, but the snake's bite was the true downfall. The poison was swift, and the only cure that existed was one that could not be borne. Sorcery, a direct incantation over the dying man. Uther would rather die than renege his principles, and he was getting a chance to prove it.
Better to stay and wait for the news while awake.
"Psst. My Lady."
Morgana started. There had been no noise by her chambers for at least two hours; the corridor that ran by her room was quite far from Uther's, and everyone was presumably either asleep or standing vigil at the King's deathbed. She hadn't even heard someone walk up to the door, just the hiss of a whisper from the other side.
"My Lady, it's Merlin."
Merlin? She would have thought he would have been with Arthur, with the dying King. Perhaps he was here to deliver The News. Quickly she rushed to the door, putting her ear to it.
"Merlin?" she whispered. "What is it?"
"Look, I haven't much time. Would you let me in?"
This was not summons to an impromptu crowning or to the deathbed. Quickly she opened the door just wide enough so he could enter. Right away she noticed something was wrong. He had on a travelling cloak with the hood pulled so far over his head that she could barely make out his nose and carried what looked like a very full bag slung over his shoulder. And what little she could see of his face was in an expression more serious than any she had seen on Merlin's face.
"What's happening? What's wrong?"
Merlin sighed, shaking the hood back off his head. "Nothing's wrong that you don't already know about. Gaius told me that Uther won't last the night. Arthur will be king within a few hours."
Morgana felt herself grow cold as she slowly sat down on the edge of her bed. "I…I see." There were no other words to say about the man who had raised her, cared for her like a daughter and yet terrified her almost literally to death.
"With Uther going, there is something you must know. I'm sorry I never told you before, but…" he shook his head, pausing a second before reaching into his bag and pulling out a copper coin, flipping it deftly.
Except it did not flip. It spun. And it did not fall.
Morgana's throat went so dry she thought she'd never be able to talk again. This was a magic—not the magic as she had known it through her childhood, but the magic she herself could do, like with the flame. Magic without precedent, uncontrolled instinct.
"You can do magic?"
"Yes." The coin at last fell into Merlin's waiting hand before putting it back in his bag. "I can do magic. I wanted to tell you right after the candle incident, but Gaius warned me it would put us all in grave danger. He didn't even want me telling you about you having magic, though I think he finally realized things would only get worse if you didn't know what you were trying to control."
Morgana's eyes flashed in the light. So Gaius knew she had magic—knew another magic practitioner—and refused to tell her anything about it. But that not the topic at hand. "Am I the only one who didn't know about this—I mean, your gifts?"
Merlin shook his head. "Only Gaius and now you. Though I've dropped enough chandeliers on Arthur's behalf since coming here that I'm wondering if he's just willfully ignorant."
Morgana remembered well the time she had fallen asleep in the middle of a banquet and woke covered in cobwebs only to find a witch lying on the ground, trapped by the weight of a chandelier. "That was you?"
Merlin shrugged. "Most times something conveniently fell, got too hot to hold, or was set on fire without reasonable explanation it was probably me. And that's mostly what I wanted to tell you. I know magic can be used for good because that is the only way I've used it, even if the good was just making sure that the heir apparent had a clean shirt on the next day. Just…think about that. Use when absolutely necessary or when trivial, and think about the consequences before you do. In time I know you can convince Arthur about magic. He listens to you, as much as it seems as if he doesn't."
The words made Merlin's strange apparel click. "You're leaving."
"As soon as I'm done talking to you, yes. I once made a promise in order to save Camelot, and I must keep it, and releasing the Dragon will be both conspicuous and highly treasonous, and I don't fancy getting hanged."
"Dragon?" Morgana was taken aback. How much of Merlin had she not known—still not know? She felt like a complete ignorant, and she did not like it.
"About a year ago I needed a spell to save Camelot. The Great Dragon below the castle gave it to me on the condition that I would set him free one day. The night that Uther dies and the night Arthur becomes the new King seems like the only likely time I can smuggle a gigantic golden lizard out of the city without people noticing right away and trying to kill him—us."
Morgana began to wonder exactly how much this servant boy from a far-off village had bargained to save Camelot over the years.
"So you are leaving."
"Yes, I am."
"And you will not return."
"Most likely not, and definitely not for a while."
"Where will you go?"
"Assuming I successfully free the Dragon and he doesn't eat me, probably to the Druids first. Either that or wander for a while. There are always problems that can be solved with some judicious magic use, and there is much magic I must learn. But before I go…" he reached behind him into the oversized cloak and pulled out two packages—one long and thin, the other rectangular and compact. "Last things, I promise. The long one is for Arthur. It's the last scabbard Gwen's father made, and I…fiddled with it a bit. As long as he carries it, he won't bleed when cut. I meant to try to layer some other protections on it, but I ran out of time. The other packet is for you."
Morgana carefully unfolded the cloth bindings of the package, revealing a well-worn book and a round green stone on a fine glittering chain.
Merlin's voice seemed to come from far away. "The stone is malachite, for sound sleep. It was supposed to be for your birthday, though under the circumstances I thought you might like it early. No detectable spells—just natural gem magic. In case it takes a while to get the magic thing cleared up."
Morgana knew very well what the salary was for the average servant at the castle; such jewelry must have been prohibitively expensive for him unless the hazard pay for letting Arthur drag him along to invade castles and whatnot was a whole lot more than she would have guessed (though probably a lot less than he deserved). She opened her mouth to ask, but she closed it, realizing the likelihood of him actually answering that question directly was very, very low. "The book?"
Merlin looked to the fire, the flames rising up and dying down rhythmically along with his breath. "I do think Arthur will try to make magic legal again very soon after he becomes king, but there's a chance he won't, in which case it would be very, very bad if you made a dropped glass hover or a plate mend on its own, even if that wasn't your intention. The book should help you learn to put enough structure to your magic it won't come out unless you actually want it to. Keep it hidden as best you can until it will be safe, and if you've learned enough to stay safe and magic still is a death sentence, burn it."
"Burn it?" Morgana was sure she looked confused. "But the book must be priceless—"
"It's not worth more than your head, my Lady. Nothing is worth more than that. You will be careful?" It was half-question half-statement, and Morgana wasn't sure whether he wanted an answer or not. At this point if he wanted anything it would be hard to refuse. Taking the time to see her, showing her magic so she wouldn't feel so adrift, giving her magical artifacts, assisting her with learning magic were all highly dangerous things to do. Any one of them would send him straight to the chopping block for head removal if someone were to find out.
"Of course. I will keep it safe."
"Good. And I suppose—you remember my village? If things with magic go desperately wrong, go to my mother. Magic is legal in Ealdor—not encouraged, but not illegal. I can find you there."
Morgana scoffed; surely this was Merlin overreacting. Except he never overreacted. "I don't think it can get that bad."
"My Lady, all it takes is one floating handkerchief. One horse made out of smoke. Better to have a plan that is never used."
Morgana paused. Of course; he was right. Had someone put two and two together about the vase and candle, she might not have lived to see another sunrise.
Ding dong ding dong, ding dong ding dong, ding dong ding dong, ding dong ding dong. DONG. DONG.
"It's later than I thought," Merlin said after the bells had tolled the time, rearranging his now considerably-more-lightly-packed bag over his shoulder and pulling the hood of his cloak back over his head. "I need to get down there if this is going to work."
"Wait," she said, her voice sounding hoarse and anxious to her ears, even though she knew it didn't actually sound like that. There was one question whose answer she needed, and by God, Merlin owed her the full and complete response for this one, and Morgana was not going to allow him to leave until she got it.
"Why are you helping me?"
He paused, seeming to consider his words carefully. "I have seen how destructive magic can be to the one who wields it. You don't deserve fearing for your life every second of the day because magic you can't control, whether it kills you directly or indirectly. I couldn't bear for it to kill you."
It wasn't precise, it wasn't clear, but whether by magic or the simple fact that Merlin was as easily read as a book, Morgana knew exactly what he meant. And because she knew what he meant, she had to do something about it.
She knew she wouldn't be able to do it without some sort of cheat. He was a good head taller than she, and even on tiptoe she wouldn't be able to get high enough to do what she wanted unless she had his full cooperation, which she doubted she'd get. So she improvised. She brought her right hand slowly up so her fingers touched her lips, noticing with a twinge of satisfaction that the parts of his face that she could see were starting to turn pink.
"My Lady…"
"Hush."
It seemed to take forever for her hand to stretch the distance to ever so gently touch his lips. She had, of course, kissed someone normally, but it didn't seem as intimate as this fingertip to lip contact. She could feel the flickering warmth that she had come to associate with her own magic, and a slight buzz from Merlin tingled in her fingers. When she let her hand drop, his was there to catch it like it did the coin. He felt warm, reassuring, though the contact was still minimal, and the lovely buzz travelled all the way up her arm, giving her a truly giddy sensation.
"If you come back, I'll do it properly," she whispered.
"Then I may have something to draw me back," he replied. He sounded about as dazed as Morgana felt.
"If you must go, you should go now," she said after a long pause of just enjoying the warmth of his hand. He was on to far more illegal things tonight than compromising her reputation, and while she'd rather enjoy his company, he needed to get moving sooner rather than later. "I'll do what I can to keep people from noticing—especially Arthur."
"Do not risk yourself for me." His cowl-covered head bowed over her hand, the edges of the fabric brushing her skin as he kissed her hand so lightly his breath felt concrete. "Though for both our sakes I pray that there are fewer secrets and more truths coming in Camelot's future." And with that, the warlock dropped her hand and slipped out of the door, off to great adventures and great dangers.
Morgana stared at the closed door for what felt like hours. The pendant and book lay heavy in her hands as she waited restlessly. One man to die, one man to risk death, one man to come into a dangerous position. Who needed dreams to fortell that? Who would find the dreams helpful?
She glanced down at her lap at the dull stone and old book. Book and pendant—worth trying, at least. Carefully she undid the clasp (the delicacy of it alarmed her and made her adjust her estimate on the price) and wrapped it around her neck. It felt warm on her skin as it weighed at the base of her neck, and the stone itself rested comfortably between her collarbones. Now for the book. Opening it to the first page, she was faced with beautiful illuminated pages, handwritten probably a century ago.
"Of the foundations of magic," she started to read, "little is definitively know, though theories abound..."
--
When Guinevere came in the morning to prepare Morgana for the funeral of the old king and the crowning of the new, she found the Lady in her nightgown sitting at her table, resting her head what appeared to be a very old book, sleeping as soundly as a baby.
While this story is a one-shot in itself, it is the starting point for my AU that I'm creating. I mostly wanted to crank this one out before Morgana turns evil, which I'm starting to think might be the case if the episode synopses are anything to go by. Hey, if I start before the show contradicts me, it's not intentional AU, is it?