A/N : This fic was written for the ArMor BigBang Challenge on LJ. The plot is mine, most of the characters belongs to the actors who personify them and their rightful authors.
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The voices never stopped. They filled her, painfully. She heard them all the time, whispering, growing stronger every minute. Some days, she barely remembered how it was, when she was alone in her head. Sometimes, she listened, and the voices calmed down. When she listened, her dreams were plagued with violence and death. When she listened, her dreams scared the hell out of her.
So she walked through the days, with her head straight and aloof smiles on her lips, ignoring the murmurs behind her back. Gwen and Merlin were worried, urging her to consult Gaius for a more powerful draught. Even Arthur inquired about her rest, one morning she failed to react to another one of his brash comments. She pushed them all away. She alleged the weather was getting on her. And they believed her, only Arthur expressing doubts; but it was his usual way, to pretend she was lying.
The voices were driving her mad, and she had no way to shut them off. So she listened, and let the horrors in her dreams terrified her.
She woke up. The world had exploded, engulfing everything in fire and ice.
"Morgana!"
Uther rushed in, crushing shattered glass beneath his booths, Arthur just one step behind, but they stopped after one look at the dishevelled portrait she made. The upset woman was so far from the composed lady they saw every day. Seeing her like didn't feel right; she looked… lost. Ill-at-ease, Arthur turned away to examine the crashed window. Uther sat near her on the bed, remembering how she used to nestle in his arms when she was a child, wishing he still could reassure her as easily:
"What happened my Dear, are you hurt? Did you hear anyone?"
"I was sleeping, and a nightmare woke me up…"
Lie… Lie so Uther won't know you witnessed his son's death. Her voice was shaking. She was shaking. The voices in her head were only a vague murmur. Morgana tightened her robe around her.
"She can't stay here, Father."
"Can you stop talking as if I was a burden to deliver, Arthur?"
You were dying minutes ago… So much blood… So much blood…
"Arthur is right, Morgana. You will relocate until we find out what happened. You will see to it."
Sometimes, Uther addressed to his son the way he did to a servant.
"Don't worry my dear, we will find the sorcerer who alarmed you and make him pay."
Poor, naïve Uther… If only he knew.
The King gently caressed her head, and left. Arthur gestured Merlin, who waited at the door, then resumed his perusing at the floor, maybe looking for a projectile. He turned to her only when she stood, as a servant announced her room was ready.
"You'd better put your slippers on, there's glass everywhere. Unless you want to face the gossip to have me carrying you to your chambers at night?"
She snorted. Even while trying to be considerate, he managed to turn into an arrogant prat. Arthur took a couple of steps toward her. She tensed. How much he had changed in the past few years. He was insufferable most of the time, really. But he had those moments, when the mask dropped and the man behind revealed himself. The man, the prince, a future king. The voices returned, hurling about wars and mortal wounds. He repeated her name, bringing her back to reality.
"Try to get some rest."
"I'm fine, Arthur."
He didn't look convinced. She didn't care.
It was Magic. The voices, the dreams, the violent bursts of energy around her were Magic inside her, growing out of control. Resisting was eating on her. Giving in was making her dangerous. She had only a couple of choices; she could learn to control it, and risk her life trying. Or she could ignore her gifts and risk everybody else. She had no choice.
Morgana tried. She listened and welcomed the hideous dreams. She spent hours concentrating, fighting to isolate one voice, one image. Soon, she realized that picturing a candle was effective. She imagined the candle, and nourished the flame burning in her mind with her fears and her frustrations, with each unbearable tension her nightmares brought to her. The abominations she witnessed in her dreams sent so much anguish rocketing though her. Night after night after night she delayed the moment to close her eyes and drift into sleep.
Tonight was no different. Except that Arthur had company. And the girl was not discreet about it. Morgana sighed. The hysteric giggles were getting on her nerves. Burying her face in her pillow, she muffled a groan. She had another ghastly dream the night before. His handsome face had been so horribly deformed by pain. She was exhausted and Arthur's womanizing in the next room made it impossible for her to rest. Anger boiled into her; she pushed it into a flame. Couldn't he at least silence the stupid girl? The fire grew and grew, until she couldn't contain it anymore.
The sudden scream next door had nothing to do with Arthur's talents. A door slammed, and hers burst open, startling her.
"Arthur! What are you doing!"
Half dressed and totally obvious of the absurd of the situation, he bent over the fire. "My chimney just exploded. I'm checking yours."
Her voice took his attention to her.
"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to… She was so…"
"Morgana, what are you talking about?"
She was tired. The voices were roaring again. She covered her ears with her hands. The fire sparkled brutally and Arthur jerked back. Her head was so heavy.
"Stop it, please stop it… Make them stop…"
Abashed, he looked at her frail form on the bed, her knees to her chest, curled up in a ball, her arms clutched around her waist. Her eyes were even more transparent than usual. Her skin under his palm was icy.
"Morgana…"
She shook off his hand. Arthur refused the rebuff.
"What's wrong? You can tell me…"
But the walls were shifting into place again, taking her away. Morgana lay back on her cushions, smoothing the sheets around her.
"I'm tired, Arthur. Surely conversation can wait until tomorrow?"
"You will avoid me tomorrow. So I'm asking now. What's the matter with you? You walk around like a ghost. You barely eat. You wake up screaming…"
"I told you. I'm fine."
"Like hell."
"Suit yourself."
She could not take the accusation in his tone; she would not support pity. He wasn't really worried anyway. He was just annoyed by the interruption of his nocturnal activities. She felt even lonelier. Arthur turned at the door.
"Morgana…"
He was never one to give up easily.
"Good night, Arthur."
He was dismissed. Even he could not ignore it.
The scene was so the same, again and again. He was lying in the vast plain of mud and crushed grass, barely breathing. Blood was sticking his blond hair, staining his face; blood was everywhere around him. Life was escaping him; his eyes were cloudy already. The proud, undefeated prince was to die on this battlefield.
"Arthur…"
She ran to his chambers. Maybe she could convince him not to go. Maybe this time he would listen.
"Arthur!"
Merlin was helping with his armour. The knights were to leave at dawn, which was coming far too soon. Arthur gave a nod and Merlin exited quietly. The Prince grabbed her wrists, forcing her to face him, trying to calm her down.
"What is it, Morgana? Why are you up at this hour?"
She was still wearing the blue gown she had at diner. The silver and dark gold jewellery added to her pallor.
"Arthur, you must not go!"
She freed herself only to grab his chain-mail.
"Please, listen to me. The battle is lost."
Arthur shook his head, quietly taking her by the shoulders.
"Morgana, no battle is lost before the fighting takes place."
She was almost hysterical; the need for him to stay was pulling so hard into her that she almost felt like she was drowning. She needed to calm down or he would not believe her.
"Please Arthur… I don't want you to fight. You'll die if you go, please…"
He had that smart smile on him. He didn't believe her. You have to find a way, any way, he must not go…
Tiptoeing, she pressed a soft kiss on his lips.
"Please stay with me…"
The kiss unsettled him. He was listening… But no, his hands left her shoulders only to gently unclench her fingers from him.
"The offer is very tempting, Morgana, but it's my duty to lead the knights of Camelot to…"
"NO! I won't let you…"
The voices were spiralling inside her, making her dizzy, burning her to ashes. She could barely breathe; her lungs were screaming. She had to protect him, protect him, protect him… The world was turning so fast, she was falling, taking him with her. Darkness engulfed them both.
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