Alchemy
Author: Spartacus lives
Author's note: Have you ever watched a series and liked it at the beginning and thought the idea was pretty good, then felt like they kind of cocked it up the last couple of seasons? That's how I felt about Merlin. So, I've written this- one big story in four parts to end it off the way I think it should have. Part 1: Alchemy, begins at the end of season 1 and goes through to the end of season 2, but I have only added in extra scenes without changing any of the episodes. The chapters I have added are, in my opinion, what was either being hinted at by the writers or easily fits with the dynamic between characters. I've tried to write the show realistically, but I also wanted to make it more adult/ put in the sex that the show leaves out.
It's Morgana-centric and sympathetic to the oppressed. This isn't just about romantic relationships either, there's an actual storyline. This is not PWP! I really didn't like how Morgana was written in the later seasons.
Parts 2-4 are my own original story (based on bits and pieces from the myth in Merlin fashion), diverging more and more from the show.
Please leave me feedback, I like knowing what is and or isn't working, flames are fine!
Disclaimer: I don't own BBC's Merlin, if I did, I would have made it more left-wing :)
Warnings: There are dark themes including an abusive/ non-consent relationship between Uther/ Morgana whose genetic relatedness is not established. There is incest in the story. I don't feel like I need to put it in as a warning, but if same sex relationships/ sex scenes bother you then this really isn't the story for you.
Pairings: In part 1 Uther/ Morgana (abusive), Morgana/ Gwen, Morgana/ Morgause (main pairing), Morgana/ Arthur friendship (for now) and Merlin loves Arthur (not much seen in part 1).
Spoilers: Anything canon up to whatever episode the chapter pertains to is fair game.
Chapter 1: To Kill the King (1x12)
A/N: This is an extra few scenes added onto the end of the episode where Morgana and Uther are at Gorlois' cairn before Uther is attacked by Tauren.
"I know I'm not an easy man," Uther acknowledged, "My temper blinds me sometimes. There are things that I regret…"
"Gwen's father?" Morgana spat indignantly.
Her rage at Uther had reached boiling point she could take no more senseless killing. He couldn't be reasoned with. Uther would have executed Tom for sure. Tom's escape only further convinced Uther he was right. If the king would kill Gwen's father with so little proof, a man of such sweet nature, who had served loyally for years, no one was safe.
They were kneeling side by side in front of her father's cairn, the sun was just rising, and it was a windy day. Morgana was discreetly looking for Tauren or his men.
Then Uther admitted he was wrong. Wrong to kill Tom. Morgana couldn't believe it. Uther cupped her cheek and began to swear vows to her, to listen to her, that he needed her friendship and love to be able to rule this land, it was too much, Morgana felt ambivalent as she saw Tauren silently bringing Uther his death.
She reacted on instinct, saying no at the last moment. Uther was alerted and managed to stop Tauren's killing blow. They wrestled on the ground, while Morgana was paralyzed by indecision. Tauren got the upper hand, pinning Uther to the ground and drawing his dirk.
"Die Uther Pendragon," Tauren was determined as he put all his weight into his downward lunge.
No!
Morgana reacted without thinking. Stabbing. Tears streamed down her face. She had to admit to herself for the first time that she didn't want Uther dead as much as she thought she did.
Uther can change, his love for me will change him. I can make him stop this persecution.
Morgana couldn't hear anything except for the rapid thudding sound of her heart. She looked down at Uther. Tauren's blood was on his chainmail, the sorcerer's body lying lifeless next to him. Morgana saw the dirk in her hand, she felt disgusted by it and released it from her grasp. Uther pulled her into him in a warm embrace. It made her feel safe. The wind was intertwining their cloaks, red engulfing green. Morgana clutched him, tight as if clinging for dear life. There they stood for minutes. Morgana buried her face in his shoulder.
At some point the hug stopped being a hug, and comfort morphed into something else. Before Morgana knew what was happening, the king was leaning in, Uther was kissing her. But, not as a king to his ward, as a man to a woman. Morgana was stunned still. There was a hunger in his eyes she had never seen before. Everything happened so fast. She closed her eyes involuntarily. She felt his tongue between her lips. Morgana felt anxious. She wasn't attracted to Uther like this.
Uther's hands found her waist. Morgana was still clutching his arms. His stubble scratched against her cheek. Uther laid her down onto the ground, almost gently. She smelled the scent of sweat. Morgana could see Tauren's blank eyes getting that tint of blue from the side on her vision. She felt sick.
I'm sorry, Tauren.
Uther had an urgency to his movements, he peeled off his gloves, Morgana couldn't remember a time when he'd done that. He knelt beside her. A calloused hand touched the skin of her collar bone, the other unfastened her hair. Uther released the clasp on her cloak and let it fall off her shoulders. It was the way he looked at her, as if he was starving and she was a feast, it sent a shiver through her.
He thinks I saved his life.
Uther leaned down and brought a leg over her, as if she were a horse he was going to ride. Morgana managed to pull her mouth away from his to draw breath, she felt like she was drowning.
Not like this.
Uther tried in vain to unfasten her green dress, when it didn't immediately obey, he ripped the neckline. Her white chemise was exposed. He gaped at her chest, his hands were all over her through the fabric then he reached under Morgana's smallclothes. Uther's touch wasn't tender, he acted as if possessed, giving into some animal instinct.
You wanted to get his attention to distract him to get him out here.
Uther didn't take his clothes off, his scratchy chainmail crushed her chest. Morgana's legs suddenly felt cold. He'd pulled her dress and shift up to her waist. Uther pushed her thighs apart with his hands, so he could kneel between. His touch on the sensitive skin of her inner thigh sent an unfamiliar kind of jolt through her. He fumbled with his sword belt and breeches.
Morgana caught sight of Uther's sword, the steel one he had thrust into the green earth only a few feet away. Uther thrust his other sword into her, and she felt a burning pain deep inside.
A gasp escaped her lips.
It hurt more than Morgana thought possible, it felt like being stabbed. Repeatedly.
Stop. Please, stop!
Her voice died in her throat.
Uther wasn't pained, he was enjoying himself. Grinding against her. His mouth sucked her neck. She stared helplessly at the pink sky as the sun rose.
She kept holding her breath to keep herself from bursting into tears. She hated to cry in front of others. She had promised herself long ago to never give anyone the satisfaction of her vulnerability. Morgana cried alone, when she was safe. This was the last thing from refuge, and she wouldn't give Uther any more pieces of her. Morgana closed her eyes and bit her lip and waited for it to be over.
As Morgana blinked back tears, a memory came to her unbidden of her father teaching her sword fighting. When she first started, Gorlois would let her win to build her sense of pride. But in this recollection, she was about ten and had been working at her skills for four years. Father was letting her learn her lessons now, letting his blows land, knocking her in the dirt to teach her to protect herself better. He said she could expect to always be fighting men who were bigger and stronger than she was, so she would need to be quick and smart.
After the fourth time he knocked her down, she had gotten frustrated. She refused to yield, and with the stubbornness only she could muster asked what she could do?
Father had beamed with pride, he had been hoping she would come to this question herself, "Keep them off balance, never do what they expect you to do."
Father was wonderful like that, he wanted to prepare me properly for the world.
What was significant about this particular day? It was the first time Morgana met King Uther up close. The king had visited Tintagel several times when Morgana was small, but she could hardly remember.
Now that he was up close, all Morgana saw was a man. Stern faced with brown hair going grey. No bigger or stronger than many other men. What's so good about him that he gets to be king and everyone else must obey him? She had wondered. She really didn't understand.
Morgana was dirty and wearing breeches. Her hair was a mess. She dropped her sword, wiped her hands on her shirt and went to shake King Uther's hand.
Her father laughed, and she realized she must have done something wrong.
Uther told her she should curtsy, which she did, red faced and embarrassed.
The king put a hand under her chin to lift her gaze so he could get a closer look at her.
"You look like your mother," He commented, "I hope you will grow to be as beautiful."
She thanked him as she had been taught her manners, then dropped her eyes to the ground.
She didn't like him. Something about the way his face looked when he mentioned her mother made her distrust him.
))))))
Uther's breathing became more ragged, louder, with his physical exertion. He was sweating and his movements had become faster, and stronger. His weight was pressing down on Morgana, making her body move in time with his. It was as if he'd forgotten about her, and lost himself in his own pleasure, he wasn't gentle.
This is my father's grave.
A single tear welled in her eye until she felt it escape and run cold on her cheek. And then Morgana hated herself, for her weakness.
She's wasn't sure how long it was, too long, but Uther let out a sound that was almost a cry of pain and sunk his teeth into her delicate flesh on Morgana's neck. His body felt tense before suddenly relaxing, he exhaled, then he collapsed on top of her, still except for his heavy breathing.
Morgana stayed still. Her hair and cloak were still blowing in the wind.
How long has he been thinking about doing that? Morgana kept asking herself repeatedly and couldn't find a satisfactory answer.
Morgana then turned her head just enough to notice the glow on the ground, the Mage Stone that was in Tauren's possession was lying near her hand, she reached for it ever so slowly, to avoid alerting Uther. She slid it under the arch of her back.
Morgana wasn't sure how much more time passed, that look in Uther's eyes was gone now. There was something else, shame? Uther quickly averted his eyes, taking in Morgana's hurt expression. Uther dusted himself off. He pulled her dress down covering her legs, and tried to fasten the rip in the bodice, but the dress was ruined. He brushed Morgana's hair off her back with his fingers and secured her heavy velvet cloak back over her shoulders and clasped it under her chin as if she were a child. But he doesn't see me as a child, clearly.
Uther still wouldn't look at her. He offered her his hand. When she didn't move, he simply grabbed her wrist and pulled her to her feet, irritated. He sheathed his sword. He led her again like a child, back to their horses.
Morgana noticed blood on the front of his breeches. My blood, she comprehended.
There were four horses, they had had two knights of Camelot with them, both dead now, My doing.
Uther lifted her onto her white mare. It was painful to sit. Morgana rode ahead of him, slumping forward to relieve her tender flesh.
They travelled back to Camelot very slowly in total silence.
Morgana cried silently.
Morgana thought about when she first came to Camelot. Arthur was wonderful buffer back then. He was two years younger, attention starved, a bit arrogant but otherwise kind-hearted. He looked up to her and tried his best to cheer her up in those first months here which were the hardest. He practiced sword fighting with her, they would explore together, play awful tricks on the servants, steal food from the kitchens.
She started thinking about this Palfrey mare. Uther gave Moonlight to her for her 11th birthday, Morgana's first birthday without her father. She hated Uther when she first came to Camelot and had no trouble letting him know to his face how she felt.
Moonlight, was what finally thawed their relations. Uther had bothered to teach her how to ride himself. She had been riding for years, but this was the first young horse with a bad temper she'd ever tried to tame. Uther had always been sly, he used the excuse of lessons to get to know her, what she liked, and why, and that led to more gifts suited to her tastes, no one ever said he didn't try.
When Morgana woke this morning, she was sure she wanted nothing more than for Uther to be dead. For an end to the suffering of magical people, and anyone else accused of sorcery, an end to the grief of daughters who lost their father's at Uther's hands.
But I couldn't. And now what?
Uther had promised to listen to her, to accept that she challenges him, that he regretted killing Tom.
And then… he… on my father's grave…
More tears streaked down her face. Eventually the great castle rose in the distance, and knights met them on the road. Uther was telling the whole castle that she had bravely fought off five would-be assassins. There weren't five were there? Truth be told, she'd killed one. She had no idea what happened to the other four.
Uther is a good liar, Morgana realized. That thought unsettled her.
It was strange to be congratulated for foiling your own assassination attempt.
Morgana managed to dodge all of Gwen's questions about what happened, her cloak hid her from the others, but Gwen would be the one to wash and mend her green dress. It was blood stained, ripped at the front, was covered in grass stains and had a smell to it... Morgana didn't care, she pulled rank, she was the noble Lady and Gwen the servant, she ordered a bath.
Gwen's face tightened momentarily silent before she forced herself to reply, "As you will, my Lady."
Then Morgana felt horrible for being selfish. Gwen's eyes were still red-rimmed from crying for her father. Gwen's concern for her was genuine. Morgana softened, "I'm sorry. Please forgive me Gwen, I'm not myself." She hugged Gwen and smiled kindly, "If you could, please draw me a bath."
Morgana waited until she was alone to bring out the stone that Tauren had dropped. It was very beautiful and old, and had a special feel to it, something she couldn't quite describe. Morgana had found a few very good hiding places over the years, a wall behind her clothing drawers where a stone could be removed leading to a space in the wall. She put Tauren's Mage Stone next to her lone other sacred possession, a necklace her mother had worn. It was a silver crescent moon interlocking three times making a jagged triangle, it represented something about women, it was a symbol of the Old Religion that were passed down mother to daughter. Her mother's friend had sent a rider with it to Cornwall very soon after her father's death. Vivienne had been dead for five years then, the brief message her mother's friend sent; You are old enough now to know the truth and find your own path. Morgana didn't know what it meant at the time, but she felt the need to hide the necklace. Once she entered Camelot and found out how society was here, the intolerance and persecution, she knew she had been wise to conceal her mother's gift and would live with the knowledge that her mother would never have been accepted here.
Morgana stripped off, feeling shy about her body, she was bruised in a few places. The mark where Uther had bitten her neck was conspicuous. Morgana saw it in her looking glass. Blood had dried on her thighs.
Morgana avoided everyone. She brushed off Arthur politely when he came to congratulate her on her gallantry. Gaius came by soon after she was dressed for bed. He wanted to examine her, for… injury he said, but she could see the look on his face, Gwen must have shown him the dress. She refused, adamantly.
When she was finally alone, Morgana broke down. Everything was irreversibly changed. You were never safe here, it was an illusion.