Well, this is my first ever story so tell me if you enjoy it! -Del
Flowers. Flowers! What had he been thinking? Three guards and a knight had already asked him what the hell he had been doing with such a large basket of flowers, and for what? To impress a lady who had probably already discounted his existence. And what did he have? Nothing. Well, nothing he could show without being executed, that is. His magic was his one redeeming feature: in Camelot Merlin would be murdered for even having it, let alone using it. But it may still be worth it for a glimpse of her enchanting face, her tender hands-
Merlin and the dying King were alone in the clearing. They had traveled for three days and Arthur was fading: fast. If they could only move faster, just for an hour they would be there, ready for the Shae to take Arthur to salvation and safety. Arthur was weakening by the minute; his hold across Merlin's neck was failing. In a moment of pain induced panic, he jerked and slipped from Merlin's careful hold. The limp body tumbled down a bank knotted with rough tree roots as Merlin stumbled wildly after it, tripping and falling himself on the way down. Picking up his friend, Merlin began the arduous climb up the slope at an even slower pace: Arthur now hanging, unsupported from his back.
Was it even on this floor? the cook had said that, wait, had he said the second, or third floor? Morgana had to be somewhere in this freezing castle, didn't she? The basket of flowers seemed much heavier than before: and his heart was pounding like the drums at a tournament. Door after door revealed nothing but empty room after empty room (with the exception of one which contained a very surprised Lady Helena with Sir Leon), and each corridor only seemed to lead on to another. Passing guards gave him the oddest looks, making him even more uncomfortable.
A noise from behind. Footsteps. Merlin continued, well aware of the threat closing in on him. Preserving the King was more important than anything was, anything that had ever been. Well: it was now, anyway. Increasing his speed, he turned between trees, behind rocks and through thickets to throw off his pursuer. In his mind it was the only logical thing to do: in his heart he knew a confrontation must take place eventually: nothing would stop his adversary this time.
Was this it? a slightly larger door with some silver filigree lining the handles. Should he knock? It was probably best. Merlin ruffled his hair, checked himself in a nearby window and hastily, tentatively, knocked on the door. A murmur from inside. Merlin pushed gently on the edge of the large wooden frame, then peered inside. The King's Ward was asleep in her bed, dreaming fitfully. Merlin took one, two steps towards her, basket at the ready; he lowered the gift basket down onto the Lady's dresser. A scream of pure terror sprung from the sleeping woman, causing him to panic and drop the gift to the floor.
A scream of pure anger shook the forest. It took the shape of one cruel word. Emrys. His true name. How long had she known? Only one other person knew his immortal name. Gaius. Had she- She must have. In that moment, that time-stopping moment, Merlin decided that this war had gone on long enough. Too many families had gone to waste: too many friends had come and gone. Uther, Lancelot, Elian, Percival and even Gwaine had all perished in this needless conflict. But Gaius had mentored Merlin, taught him right from wrong; he had raised him like his own son. The realisation that no-one was safe from the wrath of his enemy, especially those he held most dear chilled him to the core Camelot would never be safe whilst she was here. Not now, not ever. Merlin kept moving.
"Merlin?" The newly awakened Ward looked up at him as a frightened child will look at his father for comfort. "Where am I? There are flowers everywhere. Are they..?" Merlin was melting. "For me?" Morgana blushed, the red ovals perfect against the noble white of her skin. Merlin stumbled across his words, but managed to get out a simple "Yes, my Lady." Morgana, eyes still pale and wide from her nightmare reached out and brushed her frail hand across his tunic. The nearly raving Merlin felt his insides turn to butter at her touch, albeit accidental. Her hand reached down and plucked a flower from a crack in the floor of her chamber. Merlin stood: Ready to leave and try to forget the occasion. He stood, not expecting any more awkward conversation from the beautiful Ward. As he turned however, there came a voice: "Please stay, I get so lonely after the nightmares. You came at just the right time."
Suddenly the world was still. One voice penetrated the night as a moonbeam reaches the darkest corners of our world, perhaps where the sun fears to shine. The voice was calling. Calling his name. It was time. Turning to the side, Merlin lowered Arthur to the floor gently. The most important thing in the world would have to be paused. For this. She was already here. Only a few degrees at a time, Merlin spun the world about him as he turned to face the only remaining threat to peace in Camelot. "Merlin, Won't you stay a while? I get so lonely out here." Morgana hissed.
Spinning slowly, his thoughts racing, Merlin took his place sat on the top corner of Morgana's bed. Gazing down at her, he said softly to her in a voice not quite his: "Of course, there isn't anything I wouldn't do for you." In her dream-like state, Morgana must not have noticed how devoted that had sounded. She replied, though, which both worried and thrilled Merlin: "Times have changed, Merlin. No-one seems to love our rulers anymore. Uther was practically mobbed by the blacksmith today when he rode through town. It's like we're a burden now, not the 'benevolent rulers' we once were. I can't help but feel no-one even cares for us. Not even our servants. Merlin, why did you come to Camelot?" Merlin was lost for words. Why was she speaking like this? Had Gaius given her something to calm her down? The silence had lasted too long. He overthought her question, then snapped. "I came to- to get away, to meet new people, to be somewhere I could be someone and to feel like I'm making a difference. All right?" So much for ending the silence. After another eternity, Morgana spoke again: This time more controlled, more serious. "You seem like an amazing person, Merlin. If only I had dreams like yours. You should probably leave." She seemed crushed, as if her lack of want for anything made her less valuable as a person than Merlin. Distraught at his Lady's abrupt turn in mood, Merlin protested, "But you are not yet settled back to sleep my Lady, surely I should watch over you. That seemed like a terrible nightmare." At the new light on Morgana's face Merlin smiled inwardly. He had won a few more minutes with this enchanting woman.
"It's over. Leave while you can." Merlin spat at the once beautiful, now war torn and grief stricken face of Morgana Pendragon. "Oh please," Morgana's voice was still pure as a dove's call,"Do you really think that after all these years of pain, all these ages of plotting, I would really just give up? No. I came here for my final revenge; I will get it." With those words, Morgana raised her hands and sent forth shards of broken, cursed magic that tore through the silent atmosphere. Raising a shield to protect the King, Merlin's forehead was slashed open by a passing shard and blood trickled down his face, obscuring his view of the witch. Drawing Excalibur, he stepped forwards towards his old enemy, nearly blinded by the pain in his head. Morgana sneered. "I am a high priestess Emrys, surely you know that no mortal blade can harm me." Merlin felt nothing but sadness as he replied: "But my Lady: This is no mortal blade." Swinging Excalibur towards the bane of his King, Merlin brought down the light of the enchanted blade to cut across Morgana's torso, branding her with the hatred of years of torment. The witch screamed, a terrible sound that seemed to wither the very trees surrounding her. It was then that Merlin realised that nothing was left of his once-friend, no fragment of soul was left in this shriveled husk of agony and malice. Staggering back from the force of his own strike, he watched as his adversary sank to one knee. Then he saw it. A small glint of dark magic, simmering in the corner of Morgana's eye. This light flickered, faded to nothing. Merlin exhaled. And the world exploded in darkness.
"So Merlin, explain again why the peasants care so little for our king these days." Morgana said eagerly. "They feel that their King could never live as they do, that they do all the hard work and only he reaps the rewards from it," Replied a transfixed Merlin, "Only a few peasants seem to realise that the King keeps them safe. If only Uther had a way to show them how nobles are as beneficial to peasants as the peasants are to them." Upon saying this, Merlin looked outside. The sun was fading fast, already dropping below the higher towers of Camelot. With a sense of newfound urgency, he said softly to Morgana: "Our time runs short, I must leave now to help the Prince prepare for bed." At this, Morgana nodded and said solemnly: "I will never forget this time, Merlin. Never."
Charging through the onslaught of deadly shadow, Merlin lunged at the woman before him. She was weak. She spluttered out the last few words of her malicious spell, then looked up to Merlin with her tainted eyes. "What is it? Afraid to kill me? What do you feel when you see me like this, Merlin? Emrys?" Merlin blinked back a tear, and forced himself to tell her, "When I look at you," He looked away. This hurt too much, "All I feel is tired."
As Merlin turned to leave, Morgana turned him around and planted a soft, tender kiss on his lips.
Morgana raised her magic one last time. Merlin turned, and thrust Excalibur into the witch's torso.
Walking away, Merlin knew his life had changed forever.
Walking away, Merlin knew his life had changed forever.
