AU: Morgana returns and her vengeance upon Camelot burns deep.
Arthur
"It's a beautiful blade, isn't it Arthur?"
Arthur did not feel obliged to answer Morgana's question. Instead, there was a flash of anger in his eyes, and his desire to attack her grew only greater.
The blade to which Morgana's question was related to was the same the dagger he had given her for her birthday some years ago. Those had been the days when he had loved her like a sister, even before he discovered she was indeed his half-sister. But this twisted new Morgana was not the same woman of that past. She was not even a shadow of it. She was cold, calculated and had the intent of destroying everything that Arthur held dear in Camelot.
It had started as a mistake. His mistake because he still thought there would be a chance of redemption in Morgana. He had allowed her to the opportunity to do this to him, and that guilt and regret burned in him.
She had come to say her sorrows of Uther's passing. While Arthur held deep suspicions towards Morgana, he had thought the loss of her sister Morgause to the Veil may have changed her. That Morgause's influence had stopped somehow. And Arthur would have his sister return to him, whole and not insane with ideas on killing him and all of Camelot.
But how wrong had he been. Arthur had been taken in by her sorrow. Her pretense. She had given him some sort of draught after enchanting him with a spell. He remembered how it had initially felt, as if a part of him was locked up, trapped. He felt like he was drowning. At least, however, he had gotten to see Morgana's pained expression. The spell was a very difficult one apparently and it took a lot out of the caster, in fact, Morgana's hair had streaks of silver hair after casting it. At least for that, Arthur was pleased there was a cost, even if it was Morgana's own vanity.
Despite how weak Morgana looked after casting the enchantment, the spell had a strong hold on Arthur. And it grew stronger each minute.
Arthur felt stupid at his mistake that he should not have met Morgana alone. He should have known better. And he paid the price for trusting her.
Morgana had plans, and she had plotted them out well. In fact, she liked talking about them to Arthur, knowing full well he could nothing at all. He supposed at one point then that was what all villains liked to do, talk about their grand schemes, show how clever they were. While usually the ideas were farfetched and likely to fail, the more Arthur listened to her plans, the more chilled he had become. Her old plans with Morgause were never so calculated. Yet it seemed without Morgause around, and perhaps her obsession like personality, something had inadvertently snapped in Morgana. It was just unfortunately that it wasn't the logical part of her that burned itself out, but rather the illogical and reckless part of her that died out.
Her first item on the agenda: To deal with Arthur's Knights of the Round Table. His most faithful of Knights, who had gone through thick and thin through battles with him, she had him disband them, sending them instead to lead army on quests that led them through treacherous grounds - valley of the fallen kings, some into enemy territory such as Lot's or Cendred's Kingdom. Much of which were suicidal missions and had astounded them. He still remembered Sir Leon's face when he made the announcement.
They had protested at first, but his voice, he could hear it, how commanding it was, just like his father's was, it was an order, not a request.
They were immediately deployed that same day. He remembered Gwen's face, and the horror of his order for her brother, Elyan to be sent on a suicide mission.
They had argued in Arthur's chambers, Gwen doing most of the talking, and Arthur, simply looking impassive and cold.
That night had been uncomfortable, but Arthur had no say in anything. He was locked inside of himself, and he feared he was losing Guinevere, for her silence was deafening.
But he was wrong. No, Gwen indeed did know him better than he himself. She came into the quarters that night and she had doused him with something, apologizing. She then began to dab something on the back of his neck, as if expecting something. Nothing. The look on her face was shocking.
Not as shocking as when Arthur saw Morgana step out from behind Gwen. Arthur wanted to shout something, but he couldn't. He could only watch in horror as Morgana struck out with spell and Gwen collapsed into an unconscious heap on the marbled floor of his quarters.
Morgana allowed Arthur to watch Gwen but no way to hold her, check if she was okay or not. Simply sitting there, watching like an observer.
Morgana spent time sitting there, looking through her spellbook, and she seemed to smile having found something she liked.
She whispered the spell, and there a swirl of dark mist appeared before her and then it entered Gwen. He watched in horror as her body jerked in pain at the intruding spell.
Arthur wanted to scream, but he could only watch. And slowly, Gwen's eyes opened. For a moment Arthur feared that she too was under Morgana's control. But looking into her eyes, he saw Gwen. She was still herself.
"Arthur," she said in a hoarse whisper. And then suddenly she started convulse. Morgana walked over to her slowly, her face a smirk on it. It repulsed Arthur. How could Morgana treat Gwen like this? While she could hate Arthur for who he was, could hate Uther even, what had Gwen ever done to Morgana except be her friend, her confident?
One touch from Morgana's hand, however, Gwen seemed to calm and fall back into a slumber.
Morgana looked at Arthur who all but wanted to rush to Gwen's side but was instead fixed to sitting on the side of his bed and watch his Queen lay on the cold marble floors, unmoving.
Morgana waved her hand and instantly, Arthur felt himself released from his Observer's role. He could speak, move, and instantly he went for his sword in his scabbard. Morgana, however, did not seemed to care.
"Arthur, you should know that if you dare to harm me, I will kill Gwen."
Those words froze Arthur to the spot.
"I will kill her slowly and painfully. Listen well, dear brother. Obey me, and your lovely Queen will live another day."
"You have become a monster, Morgana," breathed out Arthur, unable to control his rage.
"Have I?"
"You have. What has Gwen ever done to you? And the Knights, and soldiers of Camelot. Sending them to their deaths. If you wanted to rule Camelot, this is… this is not the way."
He ended it with a plea. There was a part of Arthur that longed for the old Morgana. The Morgana that had wanted to save the poor, the helpless. Who was this cold woman that stood in front of him?
"Where is the Morgana that I once knew," Arthur asked, his voice cracked despite his tries to control it.
"That Morgana was naive," she spat out, "And she died long ago, right along with the many druids that died in the hands of Uther Pendragon."
"What father had done, it was wrong. I know that Morgana. But that is the past. I will change things, I promise – "
"It will never change," snapped Morgana. "Not with a Pendragon on the throne."
Arthur shook his head, "Are you not my father's daughter, either? A Pendragon?"
Arthur knew he had hit a nerve when she saw the murderous rage in Morgana's eyes.
"I was never even given the name of a Pendragon, Arthur, so don't you dare use that on me. Uther," she emphasized the name of the former King, "treated me as a Ward for over twenty years. I was not a daughter to him, Arthur, I was a simple ward. That is not a father. He lived as a manipulator and recognized only one child, and that is you," she said coldly. "Morgana Pendragon never existed to him until he felt regret," she gave out a frigid laugh.
"But let us not talk of the dead King, instead, I have great plans for this new era for you, dear brother. There will be a change in the tide. No longer will we of magic fear any of you. Be ruled by your laws. We will live as we should always have lived."
"Tomorrow… Gaius and Merlin return from the Elador, do they not?"
Arthur said nothing. He feared what Morgana had in mind.
"I hope he enjoyed his time off visiting his dear mother." With that, she fingered something by her side and then unsheathed it. It was the dagger he had given her years ago. Bejeweled with gems it was of startling beauty.
"It's a beautiful blade, isn't it Arthur?" She paused for slight moment, seemingly to get lost in looking at the glint on the silver blade. "Tomorrow, I want you to greet your dear manservant with this."
Arthur simply glared at her and spoke with gritted teeth, "I will do no such bidding of yours – "
"You won't need to, dear brother. You won't need. You will simply watch," and she waved again, and he felt again his body was no longer in his control.
"Sleep well tonight," said Morgana in a whisper as she gently touched the side of his face like a half caress. If Arthur could have shivered away from her, he would have, but he could do nothing. All except obey. His eyes, no matter how he tried to keep them open, closed, and then he fell into a slumber.
The morning came and Arthur found himself awaking from his bed. He was unsure how that had happened for his last memory was sitting there..watching Gwen.. oh dear Gods, where was she? Arthur felt his body move, like a robot across the room to the dresser. No, Gwen wasn't there any more. What happened to her? What had Morgana… wait. Arthur felt his body turn and then he saw her, his Guinevere lay asleep in their bed. While Gwen appeared serene, Arthur was sure that Morgana had done some terrible spell on her.
Arthur knew he had to do something. Anything. He had to let Gaius and Merlin know that he was no longer in control.
Yet no matter how hard he tried, he felt his body out of his grasp. It was as if he were sleepwalking. Today, though, it seemed as if the spell was stronger.
No. No he would fight it. He was not going to hurt Merlin.
Yet even as he thought that, his body betrayed him leading him down towards the Physician's quarters.
There, he spotted Gaius there. He could feel his face turn to a greeting smile and his voice rang out bright and cheerful, "Gaius! You've returned!"
"Sire," said Gaius respectfully."
"How was the visit to Ealdor? The villagers doing well after the outbreak? Hunith?" Oh these words were so key. Morgana had planned this well. It sounded like him him, Arthur realized. Was he so easy to mimic?
"Yes, Sire, the villagers have more or less on the mend from the outbreak. Hunith is recovering now; thank you, Sire, for allowing Merlin the time off at this busy time."
"Nonsense, Merlin is a dear friend to me, I would never disallow him time off when needed."
That drew a raised eyebrow from Gaius for a moment but then the physician let it pass. "Nonetheless, Merlin is appreciative."
"Actually, Gaius, I wanted to ask you of a favour. I know you must be exhausted from your travels, but there has been a call from a dear friend of mine from the Methor Kingdom, and he needs a good physician to help him get over a deadly ailment. Could I request of you to see to him?"
Gaius thought for a moment, and then Arthur heard his voice add on, "It's Lontar, that's the diagnosis that was given."
At the diagnosis Gaius seemed more thoughtful in his answer, "Very well, Sire. I shall make haste. Merlin should be able to handle things while I am gone."
"Thank you, Gaius, I appreciate it very much."
"No need, your Majesty."
Arthur watched himself watch as Gaius packed his herbal pouches and medical supplies for a moment before leaving the physician's quarters.
Morgana seemed to pace everything very well, having no rushing, making the illusion of normality very real.
Arthur even went to do his daily sparring with his new Knights of Camelot for the better half of the morning and then alas at lunch hour, he went to the throne room to have his weekly council meeting.
The meeting went quickly, Arthur barely needed to say anything, it was simply sitting and listening to reports and nodding here and there. Arthur wondered if that was really what he did on a normal basis.
Alas the throne room cleared out and Arthur, wanted to let out a sigh of relief but even that wasn't given to him. His body was not his, and instead he could only sit there numbly, staring at whatever random pages his fingers flipped through. Well. At least Merlin was avoided. It looked like it was near evening already and his friend was nowhere to be found. While normally not seeing his manservant was a worrisome thing, today in particular, Arthur was relived to not find him anywhere in the vicinity of Camelot. Perhaps Gaius's latest herb collecting took his friend far enough away that he would be safe from Morgana and Arthur himself.
The relief, however, was short lived. The doors to the throne room suddenly opened and Merlin appeared. Still dressed in his herb collecting clothing with his pouch by his side, Arthur knew that Merlin had come to see him as soon as he had finished doing his tasks for Gaius. No. No! Cried Arthur from within himself. He remembered the cold conversation with Morgana the night before. Run, Merlin. You must run!
He tried to indicate it with his eyes. The one thing he could control was the flurry of emotion behind them. He had practiced it whenever he had been in front of a reflective surface.
Merlin seemed to sense something was wrong as he approached Arthur.
"Is everything alright?" concern etched over his brow. Oh Merlin, thought Arthur with fear, if you only knew how nothing was alright!
"Of course, why wouldn't it be?" Instead was the response.
"Well, you look incredibly stiff for one," said Merlin a matter-of-factedly.
"It was a rough practice round this morning," said Arthur sighing. Gods. Arthur wanted to fight himself as he felt his hands reach for the dagger that was strapped to his belt. And for a moment he thought he had succeeded because he felt his hand fall away.
"Just finished collecting herbs for Gauis, I see."
Merlin grinned, "Yes, collected quite a bit actually. Even some rare ones."
"I'm sure Gauis would be pleased."
"I think he would as well."
"You must be parched then?"
"I'm alright Arthur. Have my canteen right here, still filled to the brim." He said tapping the container by his side. "Didn't know you cared so much for my well-being," he said with mirth.
"Haven't I always?" Arthur felt himself rise and begin to pour himself a drink.
He could see Merlin hold back an eye roll to his reply.
"I'm glad that the people of Elador are okay. And that Hunith is well too."
"Thanks, Arthur," smiled Merlin, "and thank you for letting me have the time off again. I know things have been busy for you, handling all those treaties…" he trailed off as Arthur approached him with a cup of wine.
"No, that's alright, Arthur," shaking his head, "I still need to keep a clear head to help Gauis with the preparation of the herbs."
"Now, now, Merlin, don't be such a girl," Gods, thought Arthur, that did sound like him. "One drink isn't going to hurt anyone. Besides, I thought you frequent the tavern as much as Gwaine?"
At those words, Merlin seemed to roll his eyes, feeling more at ease. No, thought Arthur, you must run. Get out of here. Please!
"Besides, I'm pleased to tell you, the remedy that was given to the Northern Villages worked out well. You and Gaius are lifesavers." Well, that much was true, Arthur indeed wanted to commend both the physician and Merlin for their hardwork on the formulae.
"To good health to all of Camelot," said Arthur as he lifted his own cup as he handed Merlin his. Merlin smiled, hesitated just for a slight moment before drinking it.
Arthur noticed he hadn't drunk his at all. This was not a good sign. Gods. Was… was it poison?
Arthur simply placed his cup back down on the table.
"Arthur, what is this drink, it's pretty strong," Merlin was adjusting his neckerchief.
"Oh just something new Gwaine introduced me to."
"Well, he should really stop introducing you to such hard liquor, or you'd be quite the drunken King instead of just being a prat."
"Well, I'll remember to tell him that."
Arthur felt himself grin widely. "I'm just glad everything went well, Merlin. Thank you, thank you for all these years of helping me create this," he gestured around him. Camelot would not have been this way without you by my side."
Merlin grinned, mirth on his face, but he was taken aback from it. "Maybe the drink has gotten to you," still adjusting his neckerchief, but there was a strained expression on his face. "Hard to ever get a decent compliment from you." Merlin, Arthur saw, felt something wrong. The drink wasn't right. And for a moment, Merlin had a flash of fear as if there was a realization. But it was too late. Arthur felt himself move forward, like a hunter closing in on the prey for the kill.
"No, just simply grateful." Said Arthur just as he closed the final distance to Merlin into a firm brotherly embrace.
"And that is why it must be goodbye."
Arthur could feel the confusion in Merlin and tension in Merlin's body all at once. Merlin knew something was wrong, but he also knew it was too late. Arthur felt the horror rip through him as he felt his own hands draw out the dagger from his sheath.
"It's a beautiful blade, isn't it Arthur."
No. NO. NO!
Arthur felt as if the blade had stabbed him. He felt as if it was his own blood was spilled. Over and over again, he felt himself bury the blade into Merlin's abdomen. Each time, he seemed to bury the dagger deeper. He could feel Merlin's cry of pain, his pleas that fell to deaf ears, "Arthur, please, please stop." But he couldn't stop. He could feel his friend's breath grow ragged with each stab.
Tears rolled down Arthur's face. Gods. By the Gods. Merlin! Merlin, no. Please no. Merlin could no longer stand. His body was limp against Arthurs. There was wetness on the back of Arthur's shoulders. Blood from his lips. He could feel his friend's blood soak into his royal robes. What his robes could not absorb, dripped down upon the white marbled floors of the throne room.
There was so much blood. So much of it.
Arthur felt himself push away Merlin's body, and like a ragdoll, his friend fell to the ground. His eyes were shut. His face was pale as his lips were near colorless save for the trickle of blood that trickled from his pursed lips. His clothing was stained red and only spreading. Arthur wanted to blink away the scene from his sight. He wanted this nightmare to end. This wasn't happening. He hadn't..he hadn't just killed his friend.
Arthur saw a shadow from behind, and he knew it was Morgana. She wanted to see her handiwork.
"Well done, Arthur. Well done indeed."
Oh how much Arthur wanted to shout, wanted to cry out. His friend was dying, if he wasn't dead already. The blade was still in his hand. Gods. He wanted to turn it and strike his sister. But the dagger held still and firm in his hands.
Tears fell from Arthur's face despite his smiling expression. He felt like he was suffocating. Seeing his Merlin's still body and feeling his friend's blood on his hands from having stabbed him. He felt sick. He wanted to turn away. But he couldn't, his body was a shell and he was trapped within it.
"Oh dear brother, did you want to say something?" said Morgana coyly looking at his anguished and tormented eyes.
Oh Arthur wanted to say more than something. He wanted to use the dagger on her, and it was clear in Morgana's expression she was no fool to that.
But what she did allow was for him to have his voice back at least.
"Please, Morgana. Please, I will do anything that you ask. Please let me help Merlin. He's done nothing to you, he was your friend!"
At those words, Morgana broke out in a manic laugh. "Friend? What friend would poison another Arthur?"
Arthur didn't know what to make of it, he was in fact confused from it. Merlin would never poison anyone. But he didn't want to hear about the reason behind it. He just wanted to save his friend! And it seemed that Morgana had the same mindset as well, at least in the poison elaboration part.
"No matter, Arthur, you know so little of what your servant has done in the past for you. And at least now I have my retribution. An eye for an eye. Or I guess in this case, a little bit more than an eye," and she chuckled at the last bit as if it were an inside joke. Clearly, she would be the only one laughing, thought Arthur disheartenedly.
Morgana crossed the floor and knelt down beside the unmoving form of Merlin, and ever so gently brushed her hand on the side of his cheek and then wiped the bit red trickle of blood from the side of his lips.
"Did you like the taste of the poison, Merlin? Did it taste bitter or did it burn?"
All the while the pool of blood was expanding beneath his dear friend's body making Arthur feel the terrible panic.
"Please Morgana -" started Arthur again, but suddenly he felt the control grip over him again and he could no longer speak.
"Enough of your begging, Arthur. Have you not heard of silence for a moment like this? Your friend is dying after all. Or is he dead already?" She let out a laugh again when she saw his expression. "Oh, Arthur, Arthur. It's so unbecoming of a King of Camelot! Worrying and begging to save a servants life?" Morgana shook her head, "Such weakness. How would you ever achieve great things?"
Arthur shuddered inside at those words. Oh how much Morgana despised everything Uther was, yet she spoke the same words that he had uttered so many times to Arthur. Morgana was truly Uther's daughter, right down to the ruthlessness.
"Arthur," she said ever so coldly after what felt like forever, "have your guards drag this thing where no one can find him, won't you? And do tell them to speak nothing of Merlins... demise. We wouldn't want to alarm anyone."
"Yes, Morgana," Arthur heard himself say.
Morgana smiled and once again touched Merlin's side of the face as she eyed the bloody wound on Merlin's abdomen.
"Poor Merlin. Murdered by your best friend. Shame indeed."
She stood up and made her way out of the throne room leaving Arthur alone and staring at Merlin's still body.
Oh how Arthur fought within the shell of his own body, screaming, pounding, but it was to no avail. Morgana's spell was strong, and only growing stronger.
"Guards," he heard himself call out. Two entered within a moment.
"Yes, Sire?" And then they saw Merlin's unmoving figure on the ground, a pool of blood around him and they nearly balked at the sight. They knew of Merlin, no doubt, the most trusted manservant to King Arthur. Yet there he was, bloody and likely dead, and the blade... they saw the blade still in Arthur's own hand. The King held no remorse on his face. There was utter coldness and detachment. It was rather chilling for them to behold. For a moment, they saw the former King, King Uther that stood before them. It was frightening.
"Remove this servant, and have him disposed to a place where no one will find him." Arthur seemed to pause for a moment before adding to them, "Speak to no one of this." The two soldiers nodded and bowed.
That night, two figures silently made their way to the most remote place that they knew of; the crypts of camelot. Quiet as they could, they weaved through the many corridors, carrying the still body of King Arthur's most trusted manservant to be placed in a forgotten tomb of stone and dust. There would lay, Merlin of Ealdor, for no one to find and no to mourn for and in darkness as the door to the tomb was sealed, and never to be opened again.