The Battle That Just Needed to End

Morgana stood before him, a dagger in her hand. Her back was tensed and her shoulders poised to strike, but her eyes lacked the hunger that had once haunted her face. She looked weary, like a lost soldier who returned home after many years, believing that there was still a war to fight but just wanting to put it all aside and find rest. But she was determined to fight this war that was over, the one that she just kept losing.

Merlin took a step towards her, and she held up the knife, both of her hands on the hilt. He stopped, his hands up in full surrender. He would not fight her. It was time for these battles to end once and for all.

"Morgana," he whispered. "Please. Stop fighting me. Come back to us."

She shook her head. The motion was sharp, with a pause between each back and forth. "No. I can't! I've lost too much to give up now!"

"The only thing you've lost is your friends, your friends who are willing to take you back," Merlin insisted. "Morgana, we're all tired of fighting you, and I know you're tired of fighting us." He smiled and took two more steps forward so that the knife was to his chest. "Are you ready to come home?"

"I have – no – HOME!" Morgana tried to spit the words out, but they just sounded weak and hoarse. "I need to do this. I need to kill you, all of you! Otherwise, this will all have been for nothing." She shook her head again, more sure this time. "No. Morgause will not have died in vain. I hate you! All of you."

Her voice wavered as Merlin gently took hold of her wrists. He lowered her arms, one of her hands falling from the dagger's hilt, and she stared, wide eyed, up at him. She felt frozen in place, her heartbeat quickening as he took a step closer.

"I hate you," she whispered, and right then she knew that she no longer believed those words. Merlin leaned down, their gaze unbroken, until his lips met hers. Morgana froze in shock, then every muscle in her body relaxed. She closed her eyes, not pulling away, and she felt her hold on the dagger slip away. She brought a hand to Merlin's face, her fingers lightly brushing his cheek as they kissed. And for the first time in years, she smiled.

Then there was pain. Sharp, blinding pain, like nothing she had ever felt before. She fell against Merlin, their lips still pressed together, and she let out a cry of agony. They tumbled to the ground, tears falling down Morgana's eyes as they broke apart. She lay on Merlin's chest, her eyes wide, her breaths coming in sharp, choking gasps. Her shaking hand groped her back until her fingers found the dagger's hilt, and she looked up, searching for Merlin's eyes. When her blurring vision cleared, she found them.

They were ice cold.

"W-why?" she gasped, her voice a strangled whisper. "Merlin?"
His eyes remained icy. "What did you think would happen, Morgana? That we would all be friends again, put the past behind us and live happily ever after? Well, it's too late for that. Or don't you remember?" He leaned in close, so that his lips brushed hers when he spoke. "You killed them. All of them."

Morgana choked, blood beginning to peek out the corner of her mouth, and she turned her head away as Merlin leaned back. She shook her head, not even trying to stop the tears.

"I'm sorry," she moaned, "so, so sorry!"

"It's too late, Morgana," Merlin said briskly. Morgana turned her head to look at him. "Five years too late."

Morgana let out a strangled sob, and the last thing she saw was Merlin's cold, emotionless smile.