She felt every inch of the blade as it sank into her flesh, the metal feeling cool and harsh against her soft skin. Her hands don't know where to go except to embrace him, her eyes glazed over in disbelief. He is cold in this moment, his look distant and unforgiving. As if she is the one to blame…as if it is her fault that this has happened. She cannot speak, cannot feel, only the cool metal and the burning liquid of her blood. Her lip trembles, words are desperate to be released through her open lips…but nothing comes. Slowly she slips into darkness. Slowly everything is lost as his frozen eyes look down upon her.
"I blame myself for what you have become…"
His words mean nothing in this moment. The bitter reality of his betrayal seeps into her skin. She still has no answers, no voice to express what he has done to her, his denial of their kinship, their unity.
She slowly fades. Her eyes still open upon a world of betrayal and hurt. A world of everlasting mirth.
He is sad to watch his friend float to Avalon alone. His destiny completed and over. He was supposed to return magic…and instead died defending his kingdom. In this moment the great warlock is alone and troubled. They have come so far, but not far enough. He is desperate for a continued reconciliation, for Arthur's last moments to be years from now, with Guinevere at his bedside and a multitude of children standing around to protect their father. He will have none of that. He has died virtually alone, except for the great warlock standing at his side.
He can feel the shift, Guinevere is now queen. She will be a good one, protecting the people. It makes Merlin wonder if it was not truly Arthur's destiny to bring magic back…but the great Queen's. He swallows the lump in his throat for the millionth time, his breathing restricted and harsh. His lip trembles again, the loneliness is booming and loud. He can hear nothing and everything at once.
"You are a fool."
He spins around abruptly. It is…impossible. There she is in all of her glory, too stubborn to die. Her voice is harsh and raspy as she clings to the tree. He wonders if she hopes the earth will give her back some of her power, her strength.
"You should be dead."
His voice is just as cold if not colder than it was a minute ago. She limps over to him, holding her side as the blood pours through her fingers. She is a frightful sight, but his gaze is as icy as the color of his eyes.
"I never did well to listen to rules."
He gulps as she stands tall, her pain forgotten for a moment. Her hand rests at her side and he can see the rivets of red running down her dress.
"Admiring your work?"
His eyes move up to meet her smirk, the look of disdained clear on his features. His hand comes up, this ends now.
"I am about to die, Merlin. There is no need for that."
His pupils dilate as she walks past him, unaffected by her wound. Her resilience troubling and mystifying, all at once.
"Why haven't you died?"
She says nothing as she comes to the water, slowly walking in. He gets nervous, he does not trust her. His feet move before he has time to think as he rushes in after her, his arms coming around her waist to stop her. She hangs lip in his arms as her head falls back to his shoulder, her soft neck coming into view.
"Morgana…"
His voice is a whisper as he watches the tears run down her face. Her breathing becoming slower as the seconds wear on.
"I am a fool…"
She coughs the last word and his eyes widen as she becomes heavier in the water, the weight causing him to fall to his knees. He brings her closer. The blood stains the crisp liquid causing a dreadful sight. He pulls her up and onto his lap, her breath tickling his ear.
"I should never have trusted you…"
It is the words he never wished to hear. The verification of what he had done, of what he caused. His eyes close, not a tear is shed but guilt eats at him.
"It is my fault…"
She coughs violently and he holds her closer, the blood pouring out of her. How is she still alive…
"I was always so careless with whom I trusted…who I loved…"
His eyes close, the noose of guilt tightening around his neck, restricting his breathing.
"You were a princess…"
"I was a woman."
Her eyes connect with his, pleading with him. His fingers brush at her jaw, her lips tremble.
"We could have had the world…we could have had it all…"
Her voice is lower and lower as she speaks, he doesn't know what to say.
"Morgana-"
"Please Merlin…just this once. Do not do what you are told, do what is right. Let me go…let me be with my brother…"
He eyes her in confusion, but nods none the less. He gives into one temptation before he moves.
It is soft, her mouth softer and warmer than he expected. It is as if it was always meant to be this way, this connection between them. Her lips are like fire and he a moth to a flame. His tears are finally evident, and they tickle their joining. The moment only lasts but a second and he pulls away, her lips still puckered from his kiss.
He moves swiftly from her and she falls back into the water, the liquid soaking her hair and dress, every inch of her being covered in blue. Her eyes are closed as the water sweeps her up and carries her away, a soft green light coming over her body, settling on her flesh as she floats into the abyss. She looks back one last time.
"Thank you, Merlin."
He has no words as his eyes widen. That single kiss…single moment of connection showed him things he never dreamed of, a world where she was good and pure. Morgana standing proudly at his side with Arthur on the throne. The weight of reality bearing down on him, he even saw a child, with his mischievous look and her emerald eyes. She is more beautiful in this moment than any other moment he has seen. He has lost everything today…and the world called it destiny.
The weight isn't sitting on his shoulders any more, the days of Arthur Pendragon, chivalry and quests are long behind him. His beard feels long and heavy as he walks around Avalon. Waiting for the day the world calls upon his master again. He never returned to Camelot that day, too many had died and too much suffering had happened. A part of him had died with Arthur, and he couldn't bear to face his past. He has spent the last five hundred years moving throughout the world, exploring new places but always staying close to Avalon, awaiting his king.
He walks slowly around, every belonging he owns on his back, his trusty walking stick at his side. A truck zooms past him but he is of the least amount of care. He is used to these strange beasts and thinks nothing of them, just of his king's protection. His cane slips today, and he knows the dawn with bring something unusual. Especially when he falls into a shallow puddle and gets himself all kinds of wet, it reminds him of Camelot.
"Oh God, are you ok?"
He does not know why but someone is tugging on his arm, pulling him up. His eyes widen, suddenly feeling younger than all of his long years. Her hair is as black as he remembers her eyes jade and honest. She helps him up as if he is not a threat, just a lonely old man in the street.
"Oh come now Morgana leave him! He's just an old man!"
He peers over her shoulder. She seems to be with a group of nasty men. They are laughing at his misfortune. She gets a look of anger in her eyes as she whirls around.
"Oh why don't you fuck off?! I have better things to do than be around you Billy!"
His eyebrow quirks at her outburst her use of crass language astounding him. She turns back, her gaze soft and gentle. She grabs his arm and starts to lead him away.
"Come now, let's get you dry."
He is too numb to protest.
She lives not far from Avalon. In fact she lives only a block away in a small apartment. It seems to be just her and her cat. He thinks she named him Gwaine...how odd.
"Here ya go."
The tea is warm, her house even toastier. He is frozen in this moment…the words cannot spill out.
"I know what you're thinking…Morgana and Gwaine. What dreadful names…but my parents really loved the old Arthurian legends and I guess that made me love them myself."
His lips attempt to form anything…but they cannot. She is very open, very bold. He stares at his tea again…he is and old man now. She should know better than to bring strangers into her home.
"You are being very kind to me young lady. It is very dangerous to invite someone you do not know into your home."
Her eyes light up at his words and her fingers come forward to grasp his. He gasps.
"That would be true…if I did not know you, Merlin."
His gaze moves up to meet hers that all knowing smile secured on her features.
"Morgana-"
"Don't you think you have enough magic to look the way you once did?"
He nods and his eyes go gold for a moment, the wrinkles on his face smooth out, his hair turns from a sharp white to the jet black he once knew, his beard disappearing and giving him back his look of youth. He has not had a reason to look like his younger self, he never entertains company the way he once did.
"Morgana…how…"
She stands and gestures for him to stand as well. His blue track suit suddenly feeling very constricting. She runs her hands over the soft material, her fingers pulling at the zipper and tugging at his jacket. He is stone, unable to move or believe what is happening.
"My parents loved the Arthurian legend…because of their ancestry, their connection to the ancient times. It is said Guinevere had a son after Arthur died, his only heir…but so did my sister. She had a boy one year before she found me. That boy is my great ancestor."
Her fingers pull at his shirt, his eyes are longing.
"I have known who I was since I was a young girl, probably around the age of five. Your face came to me in a vision, and many other visions since. I should be cross with you Merlin…"
Her eyes go gold and her finger tips feel hot as the run over his chest, his body.
"You are not?"
She shakes her head.
"You cannot be mad at a man you are born to love."
His eyes close and his forehead touches hers.
"I would give anything-"
Her fingers stop his words.
"Hush now…you can apologize to me later. Just kiss me for now."
Her lips are as soft as he remembers, her fingers are as inviting. Tears pour down his face.
"This is a dream…"
She smiles.
"It is a nightmare…"
He awakens suddenly, his breath coming out in slow harsh puffs. He touches his beard, fingering the tight curls, and he weeps. He cries for what will never be, what is gone and he will never have. He cries because he has fulfilled his destiny.
Fin.
So if you want honesty...I was going to have this end on a positive note but I was kinda like...no screw that. I really want Merlin to suffer for how he treated Morgana, don't hate me! I will probably write another companion fic for the 'Bliss' and 'Unwelcomed Arrangements universe that will be super up beat but right now I'm feeling really angsty and really upset with Merlin. ALSO, I will probably come out with a reincarnation oneshot about an encounter between the two in the future. I hope no one is too upset with this, I just really needed to be dark today because I'm really sad with what they did with Mergana and how everything played out.
As always reviews are love and go easy on me with this one, I didn't send it to my beta because I just had to get it out.
Enjoy and thanks for reading!