This idea has been playing in my mind for a while and since it's around valentines day, I thought I would post it as a valentines special. It also seemed quite versatile from any other Mergana fanfiction I have so I given it a shot. It is written from Morgana's POV.
My vision is blurry; I have not seen light for two whole years. My lips are chapped; I am highly dehydrated. My body is weak; I am suffering from severe malnutrition. Yet, I stumble in the clutches of the Saxon warriors. I try to resist them, but they threaten the life of my Aithusa so I give up without a fight.
They blindfold me and haul me along by my hair. I can hear jeers and chants of 'witch' and 'scum'. Being persistently persecuted had strengthened my mind, but I am still enervated and afraid. Death may be easy but the torture I had endured was beyond all pain. I barely felt pain any more. They had tortured Aithusa and her sorrowful cries were forever echoing in my ears. I had taken the torture for my faithful dragon but the cries had scarred me for life. Life was unfair.
I hear Sarrum booming on about honour with victory and disgrace with losing. Perhaps he was going to stone me to death and disgrace me. But no, he announces something about a fight to the death.
Roughly, I feel myself being unbound, unshackled and my blindfold taken away. A Saxon smirks at me as he hands me a rather blunt sword. I glare at him through my sunken eyes and snatch the sword from his hands. I want to maintain my dignity and fight through the last minutes of my life.
Looking around, I see crowds of Saxon men, woman and children jeering and laughing from the circular stands of the ring. I wonder who my opponent is. It is not long before my opponent stumbles into the ring. He is lanky, gangly and somewhat attractive. His raven black hair sits untidily with tufts sticking up. Nevertheless he looks strong and healthy. His eyes, which are like a stormy blue sea, are alert but sad. I feel myself feeling sympathetic towards him but snap out of this feeling. He is strong and I am not. He would surely win the fight. I would be left alone on the ground to die alone. No one would feel sorry for me. They would all snigger and try to cause me as much pain and humiliation as possible. The truth is everyone loathes me and I hate it. I can't help being a witch or fighting for my freedom.
A tear trickles down my cheek as the Saxon warrior hands my opponent a sword. He looks on the verge of tears and this reminds me of the time he poisoned me. It is cruel that we should be put in a similar position again.
Courageously, I hold up the blunt sword to my lanky opponent. His hands tremble as he clashes his sword against mine. The crowd now seems vague and everything has slowed down. Gales blow my matted locks back as I meet the servant's sword again. The heavens open and rain is blasting down. I am drenched and frozen but I still swipe at my opponent. He barely swipes at me but protects himself from my sword.
My legs finally crumple and my sword clatters to the ground. I make to grab the sword but my opponent puts his foot on it. This is end. My fern coloured eyes locks with his sapphire eyes. He looks distressed but determined. I look terrified and beaten. It is only a matter of time before my death.
I can hear the vague shouts from the crowd but I focus on my conflicted opponent . To my surprise, his sword hurtles to the ground too and he picks me up from the ground. I stand next to him and disgracefully cry my heart out. His eyes are brimming with tears and he wraps his hands round my waist. Our faces are almost touching. I can count every eyelash he has. My finger gently draws round the curves of his cheekbones to land on his neck. We then blissfully kiss. It has taken me this long to realise I have never been able to kill him because I love him. It has always been said that there is a thin line between love and hate. In my case their is no line. Love and hate flow together.
We kiss like we will never kiss again; I suppose we will never kiss again. We will never roam out of this ring. We will never be free again. After we are finished kissing, we lean our foreheads against each other. Our noses touch and our eyes lock.
"I'm sorry," I whisper. "You have every right to kill me and live." I shut my eyes. The rain still pounds against us and the wind blows my hair in his face. I am lost in the moment. Never again will I feel his warm breath against my lips. Never again will I feel his comforting presence. As long as I have him at my side, I feel like I can do anything. I have never believed that love conquers all, but it does. It is more powerful than magic and will be able to drive me to do anything.
"No," he breathes. "Living by myself would be unbearable. I love you Morgana. You have to live." The tears truly pour down both of our faces now. We are completely immersed in what is happening between each other and oblivious to everyone else around us. They do not matter to us. I only care about him and he only cares about me. To show this I pick up one of the blunt swords and place it against my chest. He copies me.
"We will do it together. Ready?" I cry. He looks bravely into my eyes, making me long to kiss him. It isn't fair. I can never kiss him again.
"Ready," he whispers." My hand quakes on the hilt of the sword. I have never been so terrified or afraid of anything. My opponent seems at ease like he is in a dream.
"NOW!" I scream. I plunge the sword deep into my heart and then wrench out to speed up the process of dying. My body is numb and I can feel no pain. I stumble on the ground as the scarlet liquid seeps out of my chest. My opponent lies on the ground facing me.
"Blóstmá," he splutters in pain. His blue eyes turn gold and a rose appears in his hand. He delicately places the rose in my tangled hair. He has magic. He is Emrys. I don't find myself caring that much. We are dying. This is what the Calliechs meant about Emrys being my destiny and doom. I could have survived if I wanted too but because of my love for him I didn't.
"I love you Merlin," I murmur. I can barely make out the twitch of his mouth muscles at the attempt of a smile. My chest starts burning like its fire and I writhe around. Merlin brushes his hand against my face and I instantly feel better. The pain is vanishing but so is my vision. I catch one last glimpse of Merlin's puffy eyes before my vision completely goes. All I can see is darkness. I panic. I feel like I am struggling and writhing about inside, but I don't move at all. I long to shriek but I can't make a noise. No one can believe how scared I am. Emrys. Love. Magic. Aithusa. Torture. Pain. Merlin. My thoughts make no sense. I picture Merlin's face in my mind one last time. Love truly does conquer all.
I hope the ending isn't too upsetting. What did you think? I'd love to hear from you. Feel free to check out my other Merlin stories.