Unconditional Love

Summary : This story shows the relationship through the years of Arthur and Morgana's lives. Morgana's POV. Inspired by another ArMor story.

Disclaimer : All characters belong to the BBC/Arthurian Legend. All pre-sixteen plotlines belong to me.

I'm one year old when I meet him for the first time

I can't really remember back this far, as I'm sure no person really can, but I remember his soft blue eyes, his light blonde hair, his gentle laugh as he swung me round and round in his arms. I remember that he was the closest person in the world to me at that time, and that has remained true to this very day.

I'm two years old when he first gives me a kiss

There he was, sitting on the castle steps. I couldn't take my eyes off of him, as my father lifted me from my horse and placed me gently into my mother's arms. She, in turn, approached King Uther, greeting and embracing him, before setting me down at Arthur's side. All three adults looked expectantly at us and we both knew what had to be done. I leaned slightly toward him, offering my cheek, but was knocked back by the shock of him catching me briefly on the lips instead. He pulled away almost instantly and we both blushed, while our parents laughed. But as we entered the castle, he reached for my hand, creating an unseverable bond between us.

I'm three years old when he becomes my hero

I was running along the many corridors of the citadel, chasing after a ten-year-old Leon, who was holding my mother's old stuffed unicorn, waving it above his head out of my reach and taunting me with it. Suddenly, the toy was snatched from his grasp and Arthur hit him over the head with it, sending him running to his mother, before bending down and gently handing it to me. I mumbled a thank you, then hurtled into his arms, hugging him tight and crushing the unicorn between us. The toy was never the same again, but as long as I was clutching him, it didn't matter.

I'm four years old when he's all I can think about

I was sitting in a cushioned chair in my nursery, supposedly learning to join up my handwriting. Members of the court had always been taught to write with fluency, which was relatively useless as at that point, I could barely spell my own full name. But I honestly wasn't concentrating on the copperplate swirls of my governess' hand. I was only thinking of the little blonde boy who had saved my belvoed stuffed unicorn, who had kissed me on the cheek, who had twirled me around in his arms all those years ago. True, at that point, I probably didn't know what love was, let alone what it meant to me, but if I had known, I would have been certain that that was what I felt in my heart every time I saw his face.

I'm five years old when I see my mother for the last time

The fire was searing my skin. I couldn't breathe. All I could see was smoke, ash and bright, flickering light. Then everything went black. I could just about grasp the memory of Gorlois screaming my name and the sounds of Uther restraining him, then yelling at his son to come back, because it wasn't safe. I remember the door falling through. I remember the strong arms, lifting me up and whispering into my ear that it would all be okay. I remember the single tear sliding down my soot-covered cheek as I overhead Uther tell Gorlois that my mother was dead. I remember him holding me close and wiping the tear from my cheek. I wish he'd never let me go.

I'm six years old when I pick up a sword for the first time

I told him to look at me, a big proud lady warrior. He told me to put the sword down, but I refused. I told him he would have to duel me to get it back, but he reached up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist and eased the sword from my grasp, sweeping me off my feet and spinning me round and round and round until I begged for him to stop. He would never admit that the next time we dueled, I had won. And the next, and the next, and the next. But I still missed the warmth of his arms wrapped around my waist, though at the time, I had no idea how much.

I'm seven years old when my father comes back from war

As his strong arms lifted me into his arms and hugged me to his chest, I felt that familiar feeling of dread wash over me again. I'd begged him not to go, but he said that he had to. He promised that he'd be back soon. And I believed him. He never broke his promises. So I waved goodbye and watched him ride away with the rest of the knights of Camelot. I felt Arthur's arm wrap around my shoulder, I heard him tell me that he had come home every time in the past, why should this time be otherwise? But for once in my life, I trust my dreams more that my cousin. Little did I know that I was right.

I'm eight years old when he does not

I felt the tears spilling over, so I ran into my house, evading everyone in my path, sprinted into my chambers and cried. I ran onto my bed, buried my head in my pillow and cried for days. Uther came to my door, but I locked it and refused to leave. The same happened when Gaius came. Even when my own aunt, Gorlois' sister, came to see me, I refused to leave. Even when the black was layed out for my father's funeral, I refused to leave. Then a soft voice came through my door, telling me that it was alright. It was then that I unlocked my door and collapsed into Arthur's arms.

I'm nine years old when I move into the palace

I never wanted this day to come, but I knew it would have to. While I still lived at my home, I could pretend that nothing had happened, that it would only be a matter of moments before my father walked through the door and swept me into his arms. Now that I was leaving, I finally had to accept that that would never happen. I took one final look around my room, then gathered my things in my arms and made for the door. The guards took my things and I climbed onto a horse. I felt someone climb on behind me. Casting one last glance towards my former home, I lent back and was enfolded in Arthur's arms.

I'm ten years old when he first sees me cry

It had been a year now. Exactly a year since I moved into the palace. Actually, it had also been two years since my father went to battle, the battle from which he didn't come home. As I sat, staring from my window ledge down onto the courtyard below, I feel the cool teardrops cascading down my cheeks before I can stop them. I sit and cry silently for many minutes, until I feel someone sit down next to me and a pair of strong arms enfold me in an embrace. I then turned round and lost control, Arthur's strong arms holding me close and whispering that everything would be alright, while I sobbed on his chest, unable to control myself for any longer. When I finally calmed down, he climbs onto the window ledge in my place and beckons me to come and sit as well. I balance myself on the edge of the alcove, but Arthur pulls me backwards so that I'm lying on his chest. I then feel the silent tears caress my cheeks while he strokes my hair and kisses the top of my head. I felt like it would never end, but everything does.

I'm eleven years old when he first takes my heart

It was my eleventh birthday, I remembered that much. As always, Uther had organised a massive party, but I honestly didn't care. I never had and I never would. It was only a few minutes until I was to be escorted down to the Great Hall when I was interrupted by a knock on my bedroom door. I thought for a moment that it might be Guinevere, my fourteen-year-old maidservant, but then I realised that I had excused her for the evening after I had prepared for the party. I called for them to come in and was shocked to see Arthur walk into the room. He asked if I was ready, then gave me two kisses on the cheek and clasped my hand, preparing to walk into my fill of attention for the year.

I'm twelve years old when he says it has to stop

I was walking along the cloisters, pulling faces behind my garden, when a hand reached out and pulling me into an alcove. Another hand covered my mouth and I was about to attempt a scream when I caught sight of the face. Arthur. I asked him what he was doing and he said that I had to stop making fun of Uther, less he catch me one day. I reluctantly agreed after much arguing and we sat in the alcove, cuddling close to one another. Another broken promise.

I'm thirteen years old when we find our special place

It felt quite strange as we went running off through the palace grounds together. We had both abandoned our classes for the day, Arthur protesting that the knights were old enough to train themselves and me saying that Snowflake could go until after dinner to be ridden. So, we went through the mazes of flowers and trees until a large rose bush blocked our way. Arthur found a gap and climbed through it, pulling me through after him. We both stood and gasped in unison. There was only one word to describe the place. Eden. A small stream went trickling through the centre of the grass bed, which was surrounded all around by twists of roses. I hadn't noticed that as I was looking around, Arthur had taken his penknife and carved an inscription in the bark of the maple tree overshadowing the grass. I walked over to the tree and I remembered the inscription perfectly. 'Arthur and Morgana: Unconditional Love'. The heart surrounding it resembled the bond between us.

I'm fourteen years old when my heart is first broken

I was eating my dinner at the top table at the welcoming feast of Lord Bayard, an old enemy of Uther's who was trying to secure peace between their kingdoms. Then I saw them. A lady of Bayard's court was leaning over and passionately kissing a man in the scarlet and gold robes of Camelot. Then it struck me. The ruffled blonde hair, the misty blue eyes. Arthur. My Arthur. My eyes blurred over and I quickly excused myself from the table, feeling the presence of someone following me. I turned to see Arthur coming up to me. He said that she had forced herself onto him and he looked so guilty that I almost believed him, but there was so much love in his eyes that I gave up and fell into his embrace. I wished that I had seen how much he always loved me.

I'm fifteen years old when I'm first jealous

She was nothing really special, but he still loved her, I thought. She was a typical princess. Blonde hair, blue eyes, golden complexion and an air around her as though she owned the entire world. But she didn't own my Arthur. I did. And if I didn't want her to go near him, then she wouldn't. However, he said that it was only a youthful dalliance and it was me that he really cared about. My jealousy vanished as quickly as it had come.

I'm sixteen years old when I realise he's jealous too

As I talked to the gorgeous Northern knight, Arthur's face caught the corner of my eye. He looked so jealous. Good. It was about time that he realised that he wasn't the only knight in the kingdom. He approached me and glared. When I asked if he was jealous, he told me that he did not think that there was anything to be jealous of. In a rage with him, I slyly remarked that I hoped he lost the tournament to Valiant, not seeming to notice that his loss would be his death.

I'm seventeen years old when I realise his heart belongs to another

I saw the way that he looked at her. The way he used to look at me. But not anymore. Everything ends, I suppose, whether we want it to or not. If it was some princess from a neighbouring kingdom then I might have thought that we still had a chance. But a maidservant. My maidservant. It made me realise that we were really finished. Good luck to her and I wish her well. But I wish it would be me at Arthur's side, me who he looks to for comfort and advice. Me who is held in his arms. But some things can never be.

I'm eighteen years old when my heart turns to stone

There was nothing left for me there anymore. My home was with Morgause. I hadn't seen Arthur for six months, but that didn't stop me thinking that he was looking for me, crying himself to sleep, like when I went missing a few years ago. I'd never seen him so relieved as when I came back. No. I couldn't afford to think like that. He was loyal to Uther, I was loyal to Morgause, that's all that mattered. Or so I thought.

I'm nineteen years old when our relationship changes forever

All this time had been a lie. He didn't know, but still. My brother. Half-brother, three-quarter brother, whatever he was I didn't care, because it didn't change anything. He was still my relative, to love him as anything else would be incest. But not to would be a betrayal of my heart. It didn't matter, I didn't need him, did I? No, I had Morgause, I didn't need anyone else. I sometimes wondered whether I was talking or my mother, thinking I needed no one else at all. But I learnt the hard way that I did.

I'm twenty years old when I lose him again

I felt a stab of pain in my heart and I knew something was wrong. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me and collapsed screaming to the floor when I saw my beloved sister crumpled in a heap on the ground. That pesky manservant told me that it was over, but I snapped back that it was only just beginning. For a split second before the ceiling collapsed, I wondered what would have happened if Arthur wasn't my brother, if he hadn't loved Guinevere, if Morgause hadn't come. Would I have been Morgana Pendragon, in marriage? Would I have been Queen? Would I have had children, a family? No! I couldn't think like that. I had my sister and that was all that I needed. Or so I thought.

I'm twenty-one years old when I meet him for the final time

The door burst from its hinges, sawdust flying in all directions, as I sat back on my throne. My throne, no matter what anyone else has to say. The pathetic little pretender ran forward, with his pretty little girlfriend, his pesky manservant and two people that I did not recognise. I greeted him slyly, expecting him to attempt to run me through on the spot. But he didn't. Instead he commented that he thought we were friends. I was unprepared for this and made up a few excuses on the spot, before running. Guinevere caught up with me eventually and we duelled, before the ceiling unexpectedly collapsed on top of me. Already injured, I managed to flee with great difficulty. I collapsed onto the dirty forest floor, gasping for breath and crying out in pain. It was at this point, as I felt my life ebbing slowly away to darkness, I hoped that he remembered the vow we made to each other at the maple tree. The vow of unconditional love.

A/N: Sorry, but it couldn't have a happy ending because it had to be more meaningful than them just running off into the sunlight. Review please!