Title: Fate
Disclaimer: All characters are fictional and are not of my creation. They belong to BBC Merlin.
Note: One shot, Morgana's POV.
Here's a little drabble about Morgana. This idea just suddenly popped into my head and i couldn't just let it go. Soo here it goes!
:D Please review.
Fate
Morgana stared at her shaking cold hands, covered in the precious blood spilled upon them. She knew that no matter how long, or how many times she washed them, the crimson blood would never come off.
She knew that nights long after this incident the eyes of her victims would forever haunt her in her dreams and whenever she would close her eyes, she would see pictures of those whose souls were now departed.
Her own eyes, once bright, beautiful, glowing sparkling sapphires filled with joy were now a dull green, showing hatred, looking dead, almost unalive.
She gasped as a pang of sadness coursed through her body and slumped to the ground. On her knees, she stared across the room where people lay all around her, dead, dying, bleeding. Their warm blood stained the cold floor.
It was not supposed to end this way.
She did not bother to pick up the dagger, dripping with a red liquid, from where it had fallen. She glanced across the room at her former friend, slumped against a wall. Warm, sticky blood flowed freely from a gaping wound in his chest and it soaked his blue shirt.
For all she knew, he could have been dead, had it not been for his moving chest.
Every breath he took pained him. The oxygen that filled his lungs burned. His vision was growing hazier and he knew that death would soon be upon him.
As she stared at his body, he opened his eyes and stared at her.
His bright blue orbs were now hazy and clouded, she noticed as his gaze met hers.
You didn't have to do this. A voice filled with power, sorrow, pain echoed throughout her mind. And though his lips remained unmoving, she knew it was he who was talking to her.
All this pain and suffering. It could have ended differently, Morgana. Morgana continued to stare at him, dumbfounded. She was overwhelmed by the sudden emotions that engulfed her. She could feel his pain, her betrayal, her loss, and his forgiveness.
"It was necessary," Morgana whispered, looking down at her blood strewn hands again, peeling her eyes away from his piercing gaze.
But her statement was not true. She'd repeated it several times before she had begun her plans. It was more of a justification, an excuse for her actions.
You didn't have to do this. He repeated and his eyelids were beginning to grow heavy, threatening to close on him one last time. His eyes became more unfocused as he felt his power leaving him and his head slumped to the side. His thoughts began to wander. She was my friend… My friend… Where did she go?...
Morgana watched in horror as the person she had just mortally wounded, still considered her to be his friend - even as she plunged the dagger, deep into his chest, even when she destroyed the home he loved and betrayed his trust, even when she took everything away that he loved - he still forgave her - even during his last breath.
He let out his last shuddering gasp, and his tired eyes closed, his body grew limp.
She was my friend… my friend… Where did she go?...
Morgana knew that he would be dead soon.
"I'm sorry," was all she could say, and she only said it only in a whisper.
His chest did not rise or fall anymore.
It was too late.
He had not heard her.
Her eyes pricked and a liquid spilled out of them. It dripped onto her knees and splashed upon the cold, stone floor, mixing with the blood and adding to the grief and sorrow that filled the room already.
She wept bitterly into the night.
Please let me know what you thought!