Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.

Title: Broken Promises

Chapter: 1

Word Count For Chapter: 3,225

Author: Crisiscase

Summary: She had loved him, trusted him with her heart. Then he'd betrayed her, betrayed her trust… betrayed her love. He'd broken his promise, just like he'd broken her. Now he'd pay.

BETA: The Ashes Fan

A/N: To all of my readers for 'What Could Have Been' I am sorry that i haven't given you another update for a while but i have been busy and this has dominated my focus. I know, another oneshot is not nearly what i owe you for your patience but it just wouldn't let go of my imagination. Anyway, I enjoyed writing this and i hope you enjoy reading it. Thank you for all the support that has been shown to me.

Crisis

She was angry. She always seemed to be angry these days. Her anger was focused on two people.

Uther was the first. Her father. She thought those words as if they were a curse. She still found it hard to believe. His poison, his cruelty ran within her veins and it disgusted her. She was a shameful secret, a rotten, wretched mistake at the heart of the Pendragon family. And that was what hurt most. Since the age of nine, Morgana had longed for a family, people who would accept her no matter what. She had been deprived of that. Robbed of the very chance to have that connection, denied the love that should have been hers. They had left her to the darkness of ignorance and the hatred that festered there. No. She would not think like that, her father was a great man, he had always loved her. He had always cared. He had taught her everything. Gorlois was her father, not Uther, and that was how she was determined to think. But somewhere inside was the knowledge, the painful knowledge that Uther had fathered and then denied her and from that rejection sprang pain. That pain fostered hatred within her, the hatred that had been present before but now burned ever brighter.

However that hatred was eclipsed by another, one far greater and far more deeply buried. Merlin. The name of the man she hated above all others flashed across her mind, rousing the fiery inferno within her chest.

He had hurt her. No. That didn't cover it. He had not only hurt her. He had broken her. He had built her up and then torn her down.

He had inspired such trust within her, such belief. He truly was a greater actor than she had ever given him credit for. She had believed him kind, honest. Once she had believed his soul was as white as winter's freshest snow. Once she had believed he would protect her, would care for her. Once he was her saviour, her friend and her protector. Once he was the one she could go to when she was scared, when her loneliness felt as if it was suffocating her.

She had been wrong.

She had been so wrong to believe him, so achingly wrong. He had hidden who he was from her. His honesty was a sham, his kindness a charade, his innocent air a lie. Once she had believed his soul to be white, now she knew better. His soul was black as a raven's wing and colder than the arctic winds that blow across the northern kingdoms during the winter solstice. He did not deserve trust; he had taken her trust and betrayed it. He had used it to get close to her, to make her believe in him. Then he had struck at her heart.

And it hurt. It hurt so much. A hurt she hid from the world, a secret she secluded from all. Even herself sometimes. It was her motivation, the icy hate she held for the man who had fooled her, it gave her the will to continue. But every foiled plan made the pain greater, a gaping hole within her that threatened to consume her, drowning her in insanity. So she shut it out, blocked it from her mind. Her mask stayed infallible, her thoughts secret. But still she hurt. The crack in her mind that had once been her loneliness, but was now pain from the rejection of blood ties, had become a ravine, a great gaping tear and she hated it. She hated it so much. Why must she be so weak before him? How could one person permeate every painful emotion within her mind? How could one man have broken through every defence, every last one of her barriers? It shouldn't have been possible. But he had. Merlin had done that, he had made her fall in love with him and she hated it. She hated the fact that he had pierced her once infallible mask. She loathed the very fact that it was him. He was a backstabber, a traitor, and an oath-breaker. She had fallen in love with him and then he had poisoned her.

He had been her saviour, been the leading light in her life, the person she could look up to. Then he had tried to kill her. And that hurt. What was it about her that made him give up on her? He had never given up on anyone. So why her? Why had he poisoned her? He had promised to protect her, promised that she could trust him. Then he had tried to kill her. Why?

But some part of her, the part that sounded like the angry, lonely, bitter child of nine years, screamed at her. It didn't matter why, only that he had. He had hurt her, had broken his promise. She had loved him and he had tried to kill her, had stabbed her in the back. She couldn't deal with the hurt, he had broken his word and that reminded her far too much of another broken promise.

She was eight years old.

The vaulted stone ceiling was high above her small body as she turned beneath the expensive linens of her bed. The castle of her father, Gorlois, was cold during the winter. During those brittle months the stone flooring became bitterly cold, a vast expanse of chilling ice. Tonight was no different. But beneath her uncomfortably hot sheets Morgana didn't feel the chill.

She shifted again. When was he going to be home? She had been waiting, waiting for so long. She had missed him, missed him so much. He was all she had left in this world. Her mother was gone, having died from the strain of giving birth to her. Now only he remained. He was her anchor, her protector, her father. Gorlois and Morgana had always been close. Alone in a huge castle, with only the maids and servants for company, it was a lonely existence. But Morgana didn't mind, she didn't need anyone else, whenever she was lonely he would wrap her in a tight hug and lift her giggling into the air and ask: "What's wrong Princess?" The world was always right when her father was around.

But then the nasty old man at the castle sent him on 'missions' and he left her. Oh, he was sorry, very sorry. But still he left her, alone in this haughty, lonely castle. This was the fourth time he had been away in the last five years, and each time he left it was months before he returned. She always missed him, missed his warmth and the feeling of safety his presence gave her.

His messenger had arrived earlier that day, saying that he would be back by moonset. But he was not back. She would know if he was. She had even drugged her nursemaid to ensure that she would be awake when he returned. The maid had orders from Gorlois to have her in bed by this time. Of course it was not her father's fault. The evil nurse just had not understood him. Of this, Morgana was sure. So she had drugged her, dropped some of her sleeping draught into Nurse's drink. She had the draught for her nightmares.

The nightmares that had hunted her in the night for months now. But now, now it was always the same one. Her father, mounted on a horse, his face was contorted by a fierce snarl. The blade in his hand flashing in the noon day sun. Enemies fell before him easily, his skill with the blade was almost unmatched, he had beaten the King more times than Morgana had fingers, but that was when disaster struck. An archer on the hill opposite Gorlois rapidly strung his bow and fired. The arrow shot through the air and struck Gorlois in the throat just as he was turning to strike another man down. Morgana could only watch with horror-stricken, tear-filled eyes as her hero fell from his horse, crashing into the dirt below. That was when she would wake screaming in terror.

Even now she was terrified. She needed him to be back soon. She had to tell him. She knew he wouldn't believe that it was real but Morgana needed to tell him. Because the panic, the fear was too much… sometimes it felt as if it was crushing her, restricting her breathing, making her blood turn cold.

That was when she heard the door of her room open.

She almost flew out of bed, running towards the door. For who else could it be? The guards would let no-one else in. He stepped inside the door, a candle blazing in his hand and Morgana saw his face, the face she knew so well. She dived into his arms.

"Daddy!"

The cry was pure exultation. He was back.

A deep chuckle reverberated in Morgana's ear as he lifted her into the air, holding her in his arms. Then he held her out in front of him, his profound, serious green eyes, so like hers yet so different, fixing onto her grey green eyes. Morgana saw the twinkle in his eye that always reassured her, the one that seemed to be able to know how she was feeling. She watched as his smile dropped slightly.

"What's the matter Princess?"

Morgana had known that this moment was coming but she had no idea how frantic she'd be. He had to understand, had to know of her fears. Even the nickname he had for her had no effect on her.

"I don't want you to go away again."

Gorlois' deep laugh reassured Morgana's terror but still she was anxious for him to understand.

"Why ever not Princess? I miss you too. You know I do. But if Uther calls I must go, he is my King and oldest friend after all."

He didn't understand. Morgana knew he didn't. He didn't understand the sheer terror racing through her at that moment.

"You can't go, not again. You won't come back. You'll leave me."

Gorlois smiled at her, his tanned olive skin shining as his eyes looked into hers.

"I'll never leave you Princess. You know that right?"

Morgana's eyes went wide. He had said that, and her father always kept his word, always. He never disappointed her.

"You promise?"

Gorlois chuckled again.

"Of course."

And finally her fear vanished, her terror gone. He had promised. He would come back, he wouldn't leave her. She smiled and buried her head in his muscular shoulder. He was her daddy; he had promised he would come back.

Slowly Morgana felt Gorlois lower her to the floor before feeling him plant her feet on the stone flooring. Reluctantly she loosened her grip on his neck and shoulders and stood before him.

He was still dressed in his riding gear but his sword had obviously been left in the armoury. She watched as he smiled at her, glancing around the room. Then she tried to look innocent as he fixed his gaze on her.

"Where's Nurse?"

Morgana widened her eyes, the picture of honesty.

"She went to sleep."

"At this time? When you were still awake? I don't think so. What happened Princess?"

"She got tired."

"Morgana."

That was bad. He used her proper name. She twisted her heel on the floor slightly, averting her eyes from his.

"I… ummm… well…"

"Yes?"

"I slipped some of that sleeping potion into her water."

Morgana's eyes shot up to his. She was terrified she'd have upset him. All she saw was shock then a resigned amusement. He sighed, and then he smiled at her.

"I suppose I should expect nothing less, your mother was just like that, nothing would stop her from getting her way."

Morgana frowned.

"She was trying to send me to bed."

"Yes. I know. Quite rightly I suppose. Come on, time for bed. The Princess can't be tired in the morning."

Morgana tried to glare at him but his smile was infectious and she ended up smiling back at him. She walked back over to the bed, climbing into it.

She watched as Gorlois pulled the linens back over her and planted a kiss on her forehead. As he turned to go a wave of panic shot through her. She needed to hear him say it again.

"Daddy."

He turned.

"You won't leave me will you?"

"Of course not Princess."

He gave her a confident smile and then left. She sank down into the embrace of slumber, tired by the day's events. She was confident now, her dreams were stupid. He'd come back. Her daddy had promised.

The memory caused her pain. So much pain. He had lied to her. He had told her he'd come back. His promise meant nothing when the knights of Camelot arrived to tell her she was going to the castle. His promise meant nothing when she was twenty one years old and discovering her magic. His promise meant nothing.

He'd lied to her, betrayed her, and hurt her. Hurt her so deeply her heart ached. Her true father, the one who had taught her everything she needed to know, had left scars on her heart. A fear of trusting, a fear of belief and a fear of hope. She wouldn't let anyone in, to do so would be to risk pain again and she couldn't do that… couldn't do that.

But somehow, despite the scars, despite the fears Merlin had managed it. He had wormed his way into her heart, once she had thought it unconscious but with his betrayal she didn't believe that anymore. He hated her for her magic. That was the only explanation, he hated her for what she was, what she could do. Morgause was right, people without magic would never understand. He would never understand. He did not have magic so he couldn't possibly know how she felt, it was impossible. He had been lying to her, getting close to her so he could kill her. He had succeeded. She had loved him, loved him so much… She thought she had hidden it, that no-one could or would ever see it but he had… and he had used it. Used her love to kill her.

He had given her to the darkness, throwing her to the haunted souls and cruel creatures that lurked there. He had abandoned her to her loneliness, her isolation. Just as her father had. She could not love. Would not. She would never love again, for every time she loved she got hurt. She would not hurt again; she would make sure of that. For she had decided… for the hurt, for the pain, for all the betrayals and all the broken promises she would kill him. Maybe she should have done it before, but she could never bring herself to cross that line… not with him… now however she was ready. She knew it. He had broken her heart and destroyed her. Now she'd kill him.

The castle halls were silent as she descended the staircase which led to the outside. She had avoided the guards easily enough; they were hardly the brightest of men and she had done it before. Many times in fact.

She crept silently down the corridor, her footsteps making barely a sound upon the hard flooring. It was years of practice that gave her this familiarity with the castle.

Her long blue cloak hid her features as she moved towards Gaius' chambers. The cloak blended with the night well, the muted darkness of the corridors making her near invisible. She was a lethal killer in the night and that was how she liked it.

On her waist was the dagger gifted to her at a feast two months ago by Arthur, two months of ever growing pain. Two months of being blocked again and again by him. Two months of her shattered heart being hidden by cruel words and a smirk. It had to end. Tonight it would end.

She slipped around a corner, turning into the final corridor before Gaius' chambers.

Before the door, she paused. She strained her hearing, desperately to make out if someone was awake despite the lateness of the hour. After a moment she relaxed. She could hear faint snores. But other than the irregular sound there was silence.

She opened their door with a quick uttered word, her eyes glowing.

She stepped through the door, pleased that the oiled wood hadn't creaked. She couldn't afford to be caught now, Merlin would be more careful if she was. She was determined to do it right this time. Her mind was a mess, her emotions wild and her heart torn. The only thing she was clear on: Merlin had to die. The pain had to end.

Silently she slipped into his room, her cloak and raven black hair making her seem ghostly, a sliding shadow against the night's darkness.

She stood above his peaceful sleeping form, breathes shaking his body. A feeling seized her, not hate, not resentment but a burning, bile raising sensation as she thought of killing him. But then she thought of the hate - cold and vast and her body shook with tremors, two sides of her fighting, hate and pain versus something she could not name. Would not name. Then she felt it, her determination hardened, her hate burning within her, pain driving her to this. She raised the dagger into the air. A position she had adopted before the window had blown in. The freak accident was the only thing that had saved Uther's wretched life.

Pausing, Morgana cleared her mind. She took a breath. She fixed her eyes on the man lying on the thin bed beneath him, the man she had loved. Then the dagger dropped.

It was as if he was forewarned. His eyes opened, a gasp escaping him as he looked up. His eyes filled with confused fear as the dagger dropped, terror as imminent death dropped towards him. It was clear he was consumed by the panic, his eyes trailing the dagger's path. It descended to just over his chest. That was when his eyes burned gold.

The dagger flew from Morgana's grasp, skidding across the stone tiles. But Morgana's eyes were trained on Merlin, her body frozen. He had used magic.

Merlin looked up into Morgana's shocked and startled face. What had he done?

A/N: Okay, there it is; a oneshot that didn't result in timeless love for them. So what did you think? Thank to all of you have reviewed any of my fics in the past. R & R please.