The night was cold and bitter for winter had settled and a harsh wind blew across the country, making anyone it touched shiver; not that this seemed to bother the young woman who stood alone by, what would appear to most, a random tree in the middle of the dark forest. The woman wore a long, deep purple cloak, hooded, which fell to the frozen ground and whirled around her feet in the wind; again, this did not seem to concern her. The woman remained still for, what would seem like eternity to an onlooker, completely lost in her thoughts, staring at the ground until, eventually, she let her long-awaited tears roll down her pale face. Her breathing deepened and her slim shoulders heaved as her sobs became louder, more uncontrolled, more heart-wrenching.
Aside from the lady crying, the scene was peaceful, but it had not been this time a year ago. One year ago, in the exact place where the distraught woman was stood, a man had died; an honourable, courageous and, most importantly, innocent man had died at her very own hand. The man was not buried here, but it was here she felt she needed to be. Gwaine he was called and his only crime, if it could be called that, was to stand in her way, in attempt to stop her killing another innocent man; his king, her brother, Arthur.
Gwaine had not been her only victim, of course, and for a long time she'd simply labelled him collateral damage. However, living alone ever since had given her time to think. Maybe she hadn't gone the right way about things. She'd certainly never intended to kill anyone, not in the beginning anyway; but out of all her victims, Gwaine was the one she felt worst about. Yes, he got in her way but the more she thought about 'her way', the more she was coming to realise it had been the wrong one. After all, if Arthur could accept Merlin's magic then, had she not used hers to evil effect, maybe in time he could have accepted hers as well, for he was not a bad person.
Fresh tears filled the priestess' eyes, for thinking about the evil she had done, the hurt she had caused grieved her beyond anything else. She'd tried thinking 'if only things had been different' but, when it came down to it, the truth was that the only reason things weren't different is because she'd made it so. She didn't need to use her gift for evil but she had and now she would suffer the consequences.
There'd been a time when she'd found herself quite attracted to Gwaine, not that she'd ever admitted this to anyone. When he first arrived in Camelot, with his roguish charm, he had truly turned her head and to see him flirting with Guinevere actually left her a tiny bit envious. Nobody had ever really been attracted to her in that way, not really. There was Arthur, but once the truth was revealed about their parentage, that felt wrong. She'd never even had secret romances with any of the knights, beautiful though she was. She'd always been lonely and she was starting to realise that her loneliness had shaped the woman, the monster she'd become.
A rumble of thunder pulled her abruptly from her thoughts and, in the lightening, she saw a bush of flowers growing not far from her. They weren't fancy but, nevertheless, she walked over and picked some of the small pink buds and laid them over the spot where Gwaine had died.
'I'm sorry,' she whispered, heavy rain droplets now saturating the ground and her cloak, and she exhaled deeply, suddenly feeling as though a weight had lifted from her shoulders. She'd never be free of what she did and nor would she ever forgive herself, but saying 'sorry', and meaning it too, made her feel that little bit better. She bowed her head towards the ground before slowly turning her back on the scene and walking away. Someday, she would go to the Lake of Avalon and pay Arthur the same respect she'd just paid Gwaine, but not tonight. Despite wanting to do all she could to make things right again, she couldn't face it yet. Despite living in hiding, she did hear news from Camelot from time to time, sometimes from villagers walking in the woods and sometimes from the knights on patrol (she kept well hidden, of course). She'd heard that Merlin had never returned to Camelot and it was rumoured that he never left the side of the lake, waiting there until the day Arthur returned. She couldn't handle bumping into him, not yet; maybe one day, for she owed him an apology too, but not yet.
A/N… Hi everyone, this is my first solo story. I've written a few collabs which you can check out at u/3626682/HarkinScriptores and u/2680337/narnianofcairparavel .
I know that in the BBC series of Merlin, Merlin kills Morgana but I just thought it would be interesting to see what would happen if he hadn't. I know it's very short but I have to admit that I lost inspiration half-way through. However, my best friend assured me that it was good enough to upload to the site. She's a much better writer than me by the way, so go and check out her stories at u/2680337/narnianofcairparavel . Hope you enjoy, and some reviews would be lovely!