AN: I was watching the infamous poisoning scene this morning (don't ask me why), but I noticed a little detail in it. After offering Morgana the poisoned flask and she places it down, Merlin takes the flask and almost drinks from it. At first I thought he was faking it or desperately thirsty, but he knows that it could kill him. He was close to drinking it, but he stopped. I honestly think he was contemplating suicide at that moment because the fact that he has to kill someone he cares about to fulfill his destiny is overwhelming to him and he hates himself for having to do it. In fact, I think there's a lot of self-loathing on Merlin's part, seeing as a lot of things that go wrong in Camelot are his fault, namely seeing a close friend go walk the wrong path.
Naturally, I decided to write what I believe he was thinking in that one moment.
Enjoy!
Hemlock is typically a slow-acting poison, often showing symptoms half an hour after consumption and taking hours for the consumer to die, but enough of it can act instantly. Symptoms include weakness of the muscles, intense pain and loss of eyesight, though the mind remains perfectly clear.
Less than I deserve, but it will do.
I offer the flask that I've laced with hemlock to Morgana, promising water. She claims she isn't thirsty and places it down on the floor. I take it from her. I deserve it more.
I hold the flask in my hands and place it close to my lips. I could do it. I could poison myself instead of Morgana and end all of this. I don't want this life or this destiny. I never wanted it. I never wanted to be anything great or powerful. I just wanted a roof over my head, clothes on my back, money in my pocket and bread on my table. The stuff of legends is for the brave and the just, not lowly servant boys.
No. Arthur needs me. Camelot needs me. Albion needs me.
I place the flask down and hand it back to her. She thanks me and drinks from it. I can't look at her.
I've done it. I've killed one of my closest friends to fulfill a destiny that I never wanted.
She coughs. She begins to suffocate. When I look at her I see all the pain in the world in her eyes as they begin to well with tears. Every ounce of light or hope that I may have seen in her is gone. She struggles to cry. I fight to hold her and with every push and shove she gives me I feel her weakening in my arms until her skin grows cold. Her tears are hot on my hands.
Gods, forgive me.
I'm so sorry, Morgana. I know that you will never forgive me and I know how much you hate me, but you could never hate anyone in the way that I hate myself.