Copyright infringement not intended. I do not nor claim to own BBC'S Merlin or any of it's characters, plot lines or quotes.
Set/based on 30 Seconds to Mars' song, The Fantasy.
Warnings: Some foul language and blood.
A/N: Sorry if Morgana is a bit OOC... I'm not gonna say it's because it's my first Merlin fic, because that's a lame excuse. I'm just going to apologize and pray to God that my next piece will be better. (:
: Once Upon a Time meets Now :
Do you live,
Do you die,
Do you bleed
For the fantasy?
In your mind,
Through your eyes,
Do you see
It's the fantasy?
: the greater the power, the more dangerous the abuse :
Once upon a time, she had been good.
Once upon a time, she had believed that Uther could change.
Once upon a time, she had loved and was loved by a man who was as sweet as his eyes were blue, as charming as his most dashing smile.
Once upon a time, she had had friends that were not her sister or Cenred or Mordred. They had been people who she had trusted and were willing to die for - more readily than she would die for Morgause now.
Once upon a time, she had saw the good in people rather than the bad, had saw love and trust, not hatred and betrayal.
Once upon a time, she had lived without regrets. Without staring at bloodied hands and feeling nothing but victorious pleasure and knowing that she had won and they had lost, lost something they could never get back no matter how hard they tried.
Without knowing that every time she returned to her sister with bloody hands and a crimson dagger concealed up her sleeve and every time she spilled enemy blood, she was one more step gone. That she was losing herself to something dark and dangerous, which she loved and hated at the same time.
Once she had been able to look into the mirror and see her and see Gwen's smiling face, knowing that Arthur was only a stone's throw away and that Merlin would be with him with that lop-sided silly grin on his face. She had known they would die for her, then.
Now, she was using that against them.
Now, she knew that the adorable man who she had loved would so readily to kill her to protect his own. The man who had sworn to care for her and to look after her; to stop this from happening.
Now, she knew that Uther could and would never change. She had saw his heart and it was ice cold, colder than her's but no where as close as Morgause's.. No one was capable of that much hate and loathing, not even she who could hate her friends for leaving her and for the blue-eyed man for betraying her trust.
Now, she was killing her friends and hurting them more than they thought she could or ever would. She was as ruthless as her only true friends - Morgause and Cenred and Mordred - but never as twisted. She would not die for any of them, besides Mordred.
Now, she saw evil in the good and loyal, and hatred in those who still saw good in her, who still tried to bring her back despite the fact she was too far gone. She saw betrayal were their was undying trust and punished them for that, forced them to suffer as she had suffered in those months of not knowing.
Now, she lived with and without regrets, with staring at bloodied hands and smiling because she, Morgana, the King's loving ward, had fought and slain someone and knowing that she would continue to win. With returning to Morgause and telling her all she knew of Camelot and knowing she shouldn't, but what was treason compared to tyranny?
With knowing that she was one step gone but one step closer to freedom, away from the evil that was Uther and guilibilty that was Arthur and the awareness that was Merlin. She was going to where she belonged, to her sister and her new friends, people that understood, people that got how she felt and how she had suffered at the hands of the men she loved..
Now, she sat at her vanity and saw herself in the mirror, the same girl but a darkness and hatred in her dark green eyes that certainly had not been there before. She saw Gwen in the reflection, wary and not smiling - too scared by the dark and cold she saw in her mistress to be able to rejoice at her presence.
Now, she knew that Arthur was still a stone's throw away, but the stone was a boulder that she could not lift on her own. She knew Merlin was with him, devoid of the stupid smile on his lips and a more mature and tried look in his blue eyes - a look that chilled her to the very core for reasons she could not comprehend.
Arthur and Gwen would still die for her, both without a second thought. They would not blame her if one lived while the other died, would never find out that it was she who prolonged the epidemic that had swept through the castle a year ago - or it was more?
They would never find out who she was or what she had done to those they loved, that all their suffering was because of her.
But, Merlin was not as fool-hardy anymore. He was not a boy whose ears were too big for his head and limbs too gangly for him to walk without tripping, not anymore.
Now, he was man who had grown into his ears and his limbs were no longer gangly but wiry and surprisingly strong. He knew who and what she was and what she had done to those they had both loved, both had been willing to die for without a second's notice. He knew about her dreams - both literal ones and figurative ones - and her desires, knew that she would stop at nothing to fulfil them.
Now, his too-blue eyes would stare at her without love or sympathy or understanding, hard and cruel and a you-will-rot-in-Hell-if-you-even-touch-a-hair-on-my-friends'-heads type of predatory glare that stirred old feelings that she would rather keep buried and forgotten.
They still stood or sat at their respective places but no secretive looks were shared, not between any of the once close four young adults. Gwen and Arthur would not so subtly eye each other and Merlin would either watch them or glare at her, almost daring her to destroy what little happiness they had created for themselves while she had been gone.
Now, she would smirk back at him rather than smile softly and would tilt her head, challenging him to voice his concerns or theories and see where they get him. He would look away then, his features hardening and becoming as cold as ice to her.
He had changed.
But, so had she.
thefantasy
She stared at her pale hands and wondered why they were not crimson, not stained with the blood of the innocent she had slain so viciously. She wondered why no one had stopped her from becoming this and why no one had tried harder to get her back. She wondered how she even got here in the first place.
But, then, Morgause's hand covered her own and she looked up into her sister's dark eyes and a confident smirk tugged at her lips because that was what was expected. She wasn't meant to regret or wonder or cry over those who had abandoned her when she needed them most.
She was meant to kill them, kill without thinking to protect her secret and her betrayal.
This was who she was, this was what she had become - and she couldn't be happier about it, despite all that she had lost. She stood to gain much from Arthur and Uther's death, more than they thought she could or would.
"Are you ready, sister?" The blond asked her, her own sly smile on her face. "Are you prepared to become Camelot's queen?"
Morgana nodded, standing with that confident smirk on her face that felt so wrong and so right that it hurt to think about for too long. "Yes," she answered assuredly. "I want Uther dead."
And her sister's smile grew and her own smirk widened.
And her heart skipped a beat before freezing completely.
thefantasy
Once upon a time, she had dreamt of being a Queen to a handsome and fair man who was a just and right as his eyes were blue.
Now, she was Queen but no man sat at her side, no people smiled up at her. Her sister stood behind her with Cenred on her other side and the people of the court glared - in secret, of course, no treason is openly displayed - and spoke of the old King who was in the dungeons. There were no eyes that were so blue, they looked like the night's sky.
Those eyes were long gone.
Once upon a time, she had fought for a small village with a few fields and couple of cows and sheep.
Now, she destroyed it.
Once upon a time, she had pitied and love the inhabitants of Camelot and looked at their knights with revered awe and playfulness. She had seen kindred spirits in all of them, from the poor to the wealthy and the weak to the brave. She had looked after them like they were her people, not her guardian's or friend's.
Now, she saw enemies in those kindred souls and killed them to prove a lesson - that she had the power, not her guardian and not her friend. That she was different and that she demanded the respect she deserved. She killed her people in front of the knights to show them that she would stop at no lengths to be Queen - something the blue-eyed man of her dreams and her guardian and his son and his son's lover knew well.
Once upon a time, she had loved a man who had tried to kill her friend.
Now, she tried to kill her friend and his lover and their friends for being themselves, a reason why she had protected her friend from the man she had loved so long ago.
Once upon a time, she was afraid of her magic and wished she didn't have it, wished that someone understood her and knew how she felt and would listen to her weep. She wanted to be loved and to love wholy and freely.
Now, she was not afraid of her magic and was glad she had it, but still yearned for someone to understand her and know why she had done the things that she had done and how she felt and would hold her as she wept. She wanted to love and be loved, but knew it was impossible.
She had no heart now, it had left her as soon as the blue-eyed man who she had hoped to marry had betrayed her.
Once upon a time, she had been pure and true and righteous - the perfect lady. She had respected her elders and her King and had stood up for what she believed in without worrying about the consequences, knowing she'd have her friends to help her out.
Now, she was rotten and a lie - oh how she was a lie - and the exact opposite of righteous. She was the lady who had been pushed to the limit and came out on the wrong side. She respected no one but herself and her sister's judgement, her sister who she loved so strongly it scared her. She still stood up for what she believed in without worry of the consquences, but it was frowned upon and she recieved death glares because of it.
And, worst of all, she faced it all on her own. She had no one, not her sister who would look at Cenred with such lust it almost hurt to see, as it would stir old memories and old feelings of her feeling like so and she knew she wouldn't ever again.
She had no friends.
She had condemned them all to death or sent them running, fleeing from her rule with scathing words and looks that haunted her waking and dreams equally.
She did not have her guardian.
She did not have his son, her friend, the boy she had grown up with and loved him as only a sister could.
She did not have her serving girl, her first true friend, the only girl who did not use her for their own personal gain and who saw her as a person rather than a Lady of Camelot.
But, most of all, she did not have her blue-eyed King, who had known all along but had loved her anyway and had tried to retrieve her from the depths of darkness and hatred she had been thrust into. She did not have her first and only love.
She had nearly killed him.
Once upon a time, she had been good and kind.
Not anymore.
This was her dream, her desire, her fantasy. And she had achieved it. She had achieved it with her sister's help.
Once upon a time, she had known a blue-eyed man who had loved her without a doubt but grew to hate her.
Once upon a time, she had known a fair-haired man who saw her as a sister and loved her, equal to none, but wished for her death sooner than later.
Once upon a time, she had known a sweet woman who had looked after her and had became her first real friend, who had tended her and stayed loyal despite everything she had done to her.
Once upon a time, she had known a cruel man who had been burned by magic and was more afraid of it than actually feeling hatred of it. He had been blinded by grief.
Once upon a time, she had been a kind woman who only wished the best for those she loved and for those she cared about. She had rose from grief and built herself on a temper that was fiery and short, but sturdy enough to hold her for as long as need be.
Now, they were gone. Not dead or dying.
They were memories, ghosts of a past that she rarely spoke of though she lived in the midst of it, though she was the spawn of that past.
thefantasy
The man was thrown to his feet, lanky hair falling into his battle-hardened eyes that glared up at her. She smirked down at him, knowing he could not harm her. Not with Morgause by her side.
Not with the throne beneath her.
She leaned forward, nails digging in slightly to balance her and to bring her back to reality.
"Tell me, Sir Leon. How have you enjoyed the first week of my reign?"
: power is my mistress. I have worked too hard at her conquest to allow anyone to take her away from me :
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Until next time,
I'm Just Another One.