Whisper- Prequel to LTWD
Morgana felt weightless, like she was floating, as she watched the tears fall from Mordred's eyes.
No, don't cry, she tried to say, but no sound came out. She felt helpless, choked sobs coming from her best friend's throat, and she couldn't comfort him. It's okay. I'm here, she tried to say. She tried to run her hand through his thick, curly locks, but her hand passed through it, like she wasn't even there.
She swallowed thickly, invisible and scared, watching Mordred fall apart beside her. In the next instance she sae her brother Arthur rush to Mordred's side, calling his name loudly. Gwen hung back in the shadows, chewing her nails like she always did when she was nervous. Morgana had been berating her for it since they were kids.
"Mordred" Arthur yelled, shaking the crying man, "Is she okay?"
Is who okay? Morgana thought. Had someone been hurt? Oh, God, it wasn't Merlin's mum, was it? Hunith was the sweetest lady she'd ever met. She'd given Morgana and Arthur unfathomable love, cared for them like they were her own. Their own father was the least lovely person Morgana could imagine, and growing up with Hunith's love had fuelled Morgana's kindness and gentle ways with others. She shuddered to think how bitter and hateful she'd have become without the woman in her life, and what she'd do now if Hunith wasn't okay.
"She…" Mordred took a deep breath and a strangled sob before continuing. "She collapsed this morning. I don't…Merlin said she stopped breathing."
"But she's okay now, right? He got her breathing again, right?" Arthur's eyes were wild, and Morgana wanted to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder, but her fingers glided through the fabric of his shirt like she was a ghost.
"I…I think so. He's with her now. I don't know what's going on."
Arthur closed his eyes for a second. "Okay. Okay," he breathed. He shakily sat down next to Mordred. Gwen quietly told the two men she was going for coffee and they nodded, not seeming to hear her words.
Mordred sniffled. "I thought I would be prepared for this when it came. I've had month to prepare, months, and I thought it would be easier to let go knowing her time was close, knowing she wasn't going to be in pain anymore, but…" Mordred's voice broke and tears spilled down his cheeks.
Arthur sighed. "I know. I've known since we were kids she didn't have a full life ahead of her. It still hurts."
"Is she gonna die, Arthur? Is today the last day she lives? Because I didn't get to say goodbye and I don't want her to leave without knowing I love her."
"She knows, Mordred. She knows you love her."
"I know, but I didn't tell her last time I saw her. I usually do, just in case, but Merlin had called and I was in a hurry and I didn't say it."
"She knows," Arthur repeated.
Gwen came back then, three cappuccinos in the tray. The boys picked them up as she sat down next to Arthur, but they didn't drink them. Gwen took Arthur's hand in hers and he squeezed it gratefully.
Morgana sat there quietly with them, wondering why she couldn't interact with them, why they couldn't see her. She wanted to reassure them, to tell them things would be okay, that Hunith was a fighter and Merlin was a wonderful surgeon, but she couldn't, so she sat, worried about her surrogate mother and watched her friend's grief stricken faces.
They were silent for a few minutes, too nervous and sad to speak. "What're gonna happen to the strays?" Mordred asked.
Gwen and Arthur turned to look at him. "How many is that now?"
"Three. She found Mittens in the garden last week; laid out a bowl of warm milk and the cat wouldn't leave her alone. I can take Mittens. She's just a kitten."
Arthur nodded.
"We can take the other two in, maybe. Or Leon can take one—Mithian's been asking him for a pet for a while now," Gwen said.
"She loved those damn stray cats she took in," Arthur whispered. "Been feeding them and giving them her love since we were kids. Uther got so pissed when she kept bringing them home so she kept them at Hunith's house."
Morgana was confused, but she forgot about wondering why when Arthur laughed humourlessly. "She spent so much time over there. Uther thought she and Merlin were sleeping together."
"What?" Mordred chuckled. He hadn't known Merlin when he was a teenager. He didn't know who he was until Morgana introduced them, not long after he'd lost his parents. When he was Merlin had finally begun dating, Morgana hadn't stopped smiling for days, so happy her two best friends had found a shoulder to lean on, someone to love when she could no longer love them.
No…that didn't seem right to Morgana for some reason. Why wouldn't she be there to love them? She idly chewed on this as she listened to the rest of Arthur's story.
"Yeah. It was such an awkward conversation when Uther brought it up. She laughed and told him Merlin was gay and that they'd have afternoon tea with Hunith every day and watch EastEnders."
"God, Merlin loves that show." Mordred rolled his eyes and Gwen snorted.
"I know. He introduced it to her and she tried to get me to watch it with her. When I refused, she started going over to Merlin's. That's how they became such good friends."
Mordred nodded, listening intently. He'd never heard that story. They were already such good friend when he'd come into the picture and he guessed the story had just never come up.
"And then she reminded Uther she was probably too such to shag anyone, would probably faint or something from the exertion. Uther never brought it up again."
"Is he gonna be here in case…in case it is her last day?" Mordred sounded tired.
Arthur shook his head. "He's in Singapore closing a deal. Apparently his company was more important than his daughter's failing health." Although Arthur's voice was bitter, it wasn't pressing news. Uther's company had come first all his life; he didn't know why he thought this time was different.
Morgana's eyebrows furrowed. They were talking about her. Why were they talking about her like she was dying? She was fine! She was right there with them, alive and whole, like she always was! And yet…
Arthur's words made her remember things. Images and such, maybe mirages and dreams. She remembered spending all those afternoons watching EastEnders with Merlin, curled on his sofa, munching a biscuit and petting a purring cat that was kneading her ankle. She was the one who took stray cats home, her heart breaking at their sad meows and delineated ribs. She was the one who would walk in the garden with Mordred.
Oh, the things that happened in that garden! It was their safe space. He would help her walk there and they would sit on a terrace and do something different, depending on the day. Morgana loved to take pictures of all her flowers—roses, peonies, daisies, lilies, sunflowers—and frame them in her room. She'd heard more than she wanted to about Mordred and Merlin's sex life sitting on that terrace. She'd introduced Mordred to lots of obscure bands there. They'd argued over hot blokes on telly there. They had in depth discussions over illnesses there. It's where she'd handed Mordred her bucketlist, her top 25 things she wanted to do before she died, and told him to finish the items on the list once she was gone. She'd been too weak to complete more than one or two of the items and wanted to make sure someone did them in her honour.
Except…why was she so worried about dying? Why was everyone whispering about her illness, about her being sick? She remembered then, with a bottomless dread, that she had been sick. She'd been dying since she was a kid, getting weaker and weaker every year. It's why she'd gone through two copies of A Walk to Remember, worn and torn from too much reading. She was like Jamie Sullivan in her favourite book, dying from an incurable disease.
It wasn't Hunith they were worried about. It was her. She had collapsed this morning. Morgana's body had failed her. Merlin had given her CPR. She could remember his hands pressing on her chest, his breath expanding her lungs. She was dying. That's why no one could see her, why her hand passed right through them, why she couldn't speak.
Morgana drifted to her room. She saw herself lying there on a table, pale, tubes and needles everywhere. Monitors beeped wildly, doctors moved quickly over her. She recognised Merlin, sweat beading on his forehead, as she struggled to keep his best friend alive.
You can stop now, Morgana tried to say, even if she knew it was futile. It's my time to go. You can let me go now. She knew her struggle was over. She could feel it deep within herself. She was ready to go now. She'd been sick her whole life, trying hard to be strong and hold on. She didn't want to leave her family, her mesh of friends who'd been there; a smile for her, a distraction, a heavy dose of reality, whatever she needed them to be. But she was done now. They needed to let go, too. She was gone.
Morgana's body flickered, faded a little. Her vision was blurred. The beeping monitors sounded tinny and the doctor's voices were garbled. She was dying. Her friends sat in a waiting room preparing for the worst. She could just image Merlin coming out to them, telling them she was gone, how broken they'd become. She didn't want to think about it anymore.
Morgana closed her eyes and was back in the waiting room. Gwen, Arthur, and Mordred had been joined by others. Morgana took her long, last looks at them all, committing them to her memory. Her body flickered again, and she knew. She knew it was time to leave.
She'd been blessed with her time on Earth. She'd made it through with these people, with their courage and love. They'd make it through without her.
"Goodbye," she whispered, and her body faded away, became one with the wind, and Morgana was gone.
And Arthur knew. He knew his sister was lost. He heard her voice in the breeze as the A&E doors opened, and knew his little sister was gone. He hoped she found her peace in the afterlife.