She wouldn't be back here if she hadn't seen the thing she was here to do, the thing she has been waiting for for years.
She isn't welcomed into the court, not like the adopted daughter she once was, not like the storming young woman she had come to be. She comes back older, wiser, terrifying in her beauty.
Uther glowers at her from the throne, but he wouldn't dare touch her. Even Uther has an inkling of how strong she has become
Morgana's eyes go gold and then red with the power inside of her, and she screams an unholy scream as her sword flies across the room and sinks into Uther Pendragon's chest. His eyes go wide in pain for a second-it's not enough but it's something for all those who have died under his confining hand.
She will deal with the pain in Arthur's eyes as he cradles his dying father's head in his lap, the tears streaming down his face as he tries to comprehend that Camelot's reign has fallen on him...finally...
She will deal with Merlin's anger, as his eyes flash gold and vases explode and tapestries tear and no one tries to stop him, no one, because they're all standing there with stunned and horrified eyes. Looking at her. Wondering how and why she came to this.
There are reasons. Uther's massacre of the Druids. His hatred, his ignorance of the thing she could never hate or ignore because it was part of her soul. Her own banishment when he had realized what she had become.
She rides away from Camelot that night knowing that she will never be allowed back, but that magic will be, and that she is too far along her own path to turn around and reclaim all that she has lost.