Wind and Running Water
Characters/Pairings: All main characters and quite a few others; mostly Arthur/Morgana and Arthur/Gwen but some other pairings (all het).
Warnings: Character death (including suicide); non-graphic sex and violence; flagrant mutilation of Arthurian legend (though the series has set something of a precedent in that regard).
Disclaimer: The Merlin characters are unfortunately still not mine.
Spoilers: All the way through series 1.
A/N: This was supposed to be a short, sweet story about Arthur and Morgana, but somehow turned into an unfluffy, plotty story concerning nearly all of the characters and spanning most of their lives. I'm still not sure how this happened. Also, I am unaware of any spoilers for series 2, so I have no idea if this is consistent with them or not.
PART ONE
-o-o-
1.
-o-o-
Gwen was showing Morgana how to make daisy chains and was surprised that she didn't know.
"But I suppose," she said, "that you don't need to make silly chains out of flowers when you have all the jewellery you want."
Morgana was about to speak but Gwen gasped and apologised. "I didn't mean to be rude, I just meant-"
"I know what you meant, don't worry." She smiled kindly then frowned as she spilt a stem too far. "I like these, though, they're charming."
She looked up and saw Arthur approaching. "Unlike certain people I could mention." Gwen giggled slightly at that.
Arthur greeted them and Morgana offered him the chain she'd made. He held it up at one end and examined it.
"It's a bit… malformed," he decided.
"It's the first one I've made," said Morgana proudly.
"Huh."
"It's a present," she said.
"Well," said Arthur, pocketing it, "I did find something to repay you for that hilarious prank you played the other day." He opened his other hand and dropped a large slug on Morgana's dress. She squealed and jumped up, making him laugh.
"Arthur! I was going to wear this tonight!" She pulled off the slug and glared at it distastefully before putting it carefully on the ground.
He scowled. "I thought you were afraid of slugs. Oh well."
"Oh well? You've got slime on me, Arthur!"
He had the decency to look guilty for a second. "You have a lot of dresses lying around. I'm sure it'll come out."
"It's lucky for you that Daddy got you a sword or I'd be pummelling you right now."
"Ah, like the good old days."
"The good old days when you lost to a girl."
"Obviously I always let you win."
"Obviously."
"Well, I'm not the one with the slimy clothes, so I suppose I win this time."
"I'd rather that than a slimy personality," said Morgana as he swaggered off.
"Maybe we should get you another dress," said Gwen. She always tried to fade into the background when Arthur and Morgana started to argue, because otherwise she felt uncomfortable. She had simply concentrated on putting her own chain round her neck.
Back in Morgana's chambers, Gwen sifted through the gowns in the cupboard, admiring them. "Which one would you like? They're all so lovely."
"You could try one on if you like."
"Oh no," she said, "I couldn't do that."
Morgana insisted, and a few minutes later Gwen was smiling at herself in the mirror. She was wearing a deep blue satin dress that rippled gracefully as she moved.
"You look beautiful," said Morgana.
"Oh, don't be silly," said Gwen. "It's just a beautiful dress. I bet even Arthur would look good in it."
Morgana laughed loudly. "If you can work out how to trick him into wearing it, you can have all my dresses you want."
Gwen changed back into her own plain attire and helped Morgana into a purple gown with delicate silver detailing. She felt a little pang of envy sometimes that everyone commented on how Uther's ward was growing from a pretty young girl into a beautiful young woman. Even Arthur had started to gaze after her when she wasn't looking and then teased her all the more as if he were irritated by how much she distracted him. But Gwen supposed she could not bear the scrutiny Morgana was under – she had never liked being the centre of attention. The way that servants were largely ignored was something of a blessing to her.
"What do you think?" asked Morgana, twirling for her inspection.
"You look like a princess," said Gwen sincerely.
Morgana pulled a face.
"I didn't mean… I meant you could be a princess, not that you're going to be. Obviously, that's…" She floundered.
"It's all right, Gwen. Just don't give me nightmares!"
-o-
Years later Morgana was preparing for yet another feast, this time welcoming King Urien and his knights. She finished fixing her hair as she listened to Arthur pacing around her bedroom and railing about his new manservant. Usually they lasted about a month before Arthur frightened them away or decided they were completely inept, but it seemed Merlin was fast approaching a record for the shortest time in service.
"He's only been here a week and already he's worse than Gavin – you remember Gavin?"
"A very sweet young man," she said, wondering whether she should send for Gwen to help her put her hair up or leave it as it was. Gwen seemed a little scared of Arthur at the best of times and at this moment his temper would have put anyone off. She decided it would be fine down.
"Perhaps, but he was mostly incompetent, which at least puts him above Merlin, who doesn't have a clue about anything. Do you know how many dents he's put in my armour? Of course, he always manages to straighten them out… which is very strange. That's another thing – he's not just useless, he's…" Arthur struggled for the right word.
"I know what you mean," said Morgana, turning round to face him. "There's something different about him. Maybe that's enough that you should give him a chance. And of course, he saved your life."
Arthur ignored her comment, looking her up and down. "That's an exquisite dress."
Morgana always found a strange pleasure in flummoxing Arthur, and clearly he was confused, being attracted to someone he constantly made fun of. It wasn't that she cared what he thought of her looks.
"A pity about the model," he added and she admitted that maybe she did care a bit. "I'm sure our visitors will lap it all up though, if they're anything like the fawning sycophants we usually get."
She was surprised that he should say that; usually he liked anything and everything that could be used to prop up his ego. "I'm wasted here, you know. They at least appreciate me. They value my beauty, my wit, that certain ladylike air…"
"In that case you'd better take good care of your beauty," said Arthur, not having to dodge the cushion that was so carelessly thrown at him from across the room. "You always were a terrible aim," he teased. "No need to be childish, Morgana."
She swept over and sat delicately on the bed, folding her gown underneath her. "Well, I for one wish you'd be a little more childish sometimes. You've been so boring ever since you decided to behave responsibly at all costs – not to mention incredibly self-important."
Arthur pretended to gasp. "My lady, you do insult my honour."
She smiled deviously. "Would that there were something to insult, sire."
He made blustering noises and suddenly reached out to muss up her hair.
"Arthur!" She attempted vainly to comb it back into place with her fingers.
"Childish enough for you?" He smirked at her. "Now you'll have to work on your wits – I only want for your self-improvement."
Morgana narrowed her eyes at him, considered for a moment, then calmly walked back to her dressing-table to repair the damage.
"What, no counter?" he taunted.
"Oh, there will be… when you least expect it."
"Very well then, let the games begin."
It was easy enough for Morgana to "accidentally" tip her goblet of water onto Arthur's lap just as they were about to depart from the banquet; it was extremely difficult for her to keep a straight face as they left, Arthur almost walking sideways to conceal the stain.
"I cannot believe you did that!" he hissed at her once they were out of the dining hall.
She took the opportunity to snigger at him. "You obviously don't know me very well then. I win this round."
"Fine, you win, but I am never speaking to you again!" he shouted down at her as he hurried upstairs to change.
"Thank God for that!" she called at his retreating back, though Arthur had made that particular promise a thousand times and never yet managed to keep it for more than half a day.
-o-
Uther had asked Morgana to entertain Princess Morfyth for a couple of hours. Unfortunately this seemed to involve her wandering around the castle grounds listening to Morfyth endlessly extolling Arthur's virtues.
"I mean, his eyes are just so… so blue, like the sky." She wondered whether the princess had ever considered a career as a poet. "Haven't you ever got lost in those eyes?"
"I find them pretty easy to navigate," replied Morgana.
Morfyth shot her a confused look but continued. "I wish there were men like Arthur back home. Men who don't just think about fighting and drinking and chasing women, who really appreciate the value of a good conversation. He's just so charming."
Morgana snorted. "Yes, his charm is simply irresistible." She supposed he did have a certain way about him when he made an effort; he had just never extended that effort in her direction.
Morgana eventually managed to foist Morfyth off on Sir Helian; it appeared she wasn't particularly fussy about whom she fell over herself for. Morgana continued her walk along by the edge of the forest and came across Arthur and Merlin.
"Isn't that Merlin's job?" she asked.
Arthur stopped chopping wood for a second, suspending his axe in mid-air. "Merlin? Near sharp objects? He's cut himself on my sword several times and that's just from carrying it."
"It's true," said Merlin, "I don't think I'm meant to be a soldier."
"If you are, then God help us all." Arthur threw the pieces of wood haphazardly over to Merlin, who attempted to catch them, failed, picked them up and put them in a small cart.
"He's dragging that lot back, though," he added. "We need to develop some upper-body strength now, don't we, Merlin?"
Merlin happily went along with it. Morgana wondered how he managed to put up with Arthur all day and still be so cheerful. He turned to rearrange the pile on the cart, humming merrily to himself.
Morgana was about to continue her walk when Arthur chucked a piece of wood particularly hard over his shoulder. It went straight towards the back of Merlin's head.
She cried out to him, but she was too far from him to push him out of the way. A sudden giddiness came over her. The log appeared to suddenly change trajectory, flying to the side and landing a few feet away from the cart.
Arthur and Merlin both turned to stare at her.
"I thought it was going to hit him," said Morgana, embarrassed.
Arthur shook his head and went back to work. Merlin continued to look at her, curious.
She had been so sure it would hit him. Then there was that feeling she had had – it reminded her of the troubled nights where she barely slept for bad dreams.
Merlin tried to catch a log but dropped it on his foot because he had not been paying attention. He hopped about in pain.
"Oh, you idiot, Merlin." Morgana thought Arthur sounded more fond than aggravated, and supposed that was progress. Perhaps some of Merlin's bashful charm would rub off on him. "If only I could sell you and buy a donkey. It would probably do a better job." Or perhaps not.
-o-
On their return from defending Ealdor, Arthur trotted alongside Morgana as they watched Gwen and Merlin chatting in front of them.
"Ah, young love," said Arthur.
"They deny everything, you know," said Morgana with a smile.
"Well, I can understand Gwen's reluctance – imagine admitting you're in love with Merlin."
She just shook her head and continued to smile. "Don't you hate it when someone is clearly smitten but denies it at every turn?"
"What?" He had definitely noticed how well-fitting Morgana's fighting clothes were, but he thought he had been more subtle than that.
"Oh, nothing."
Arthur let it go and went back to his usual teasing. "I thought you fought very well. You know, for a girl."
"I was just thinking the same about you. We'll have to have a rematch one of these days." They used to fight with sticks when they were younger, until Uther found out and told Morgana it was undignified for a lady – then she had moved on to duelling Arthur with a sword instead whenever she could get away with it.
-o-
Back at the castle, Morgana was putting away the weapons she'd borrowed in the armoury when one of the kitchen maids approached her.
"My lady?"
"Yes?"
"I need to thank you."
Morgana was confused. She barely recognised the woman and didn't think they had spoken before. "Thank me?"
The maid looked around as if to check they were alone, but pulled Morgana over to the corner anyway. "My son, Mordred. You harboured him and helped him to escape."
"You're his mother?" Now she saw something of a resemblance; the woman had the same jet black hair and small, watery blue eyes.
The maid nodded. "My name is Anna and I am forever indebted to you. My boy is safe now and it's all thanks to you."
"Actually, it was Arthur who-"
"Mordred told me how with your persuasion the Prince assisted as well. I have no idea how you managed to sway him, but I cannot thank you enough. I wish to repay you."
"You don't have to. I'm just glad that I could help you and that your son is well."
Anna looked around again, though no one could have been listening. "My son also tells me that you possess great magic. You have the potential to be a powerful sorceress."
"He must be mistaken; I have no magic."
"He was sure. I understand that you wish to keep it a secret, but I can help you to refine your powers. Please let me repay you."
"I told you; I have no magic, no powers, and you don't have to repay me."
Anna didn't seem to believe her, but told her that the offer would remain standing. She thanked her again profusely and left.
-o-
It was a week after Gwen's father died that the enormity hit her. A quick clean of Morgana's room and under the bed she found a button, of all things; her resolve crumbled when she remembered his proud face as he gave her that beautiful dress.
She had been working so hard, trying not to think about things, but suddenly she couldn't shove her feelings to one side any more. Every cold lonely night would repeat itself over and over, for her father would never be back; his words, his comfort and reassurance were gone forever.
Gwen sat on Morgana's bed and cried, heavily, messily and unreservedly, until her chest ached and her head hurt and she wondered if it was possible to run out of tears. Her sobs were subsiding when Arthur burst in, the door flying open to slam against the wall, and bellowed to the room at large.
"This isn't funny, Morga-" He saw Gwen and stopped in his tracks. They stared at each other awkwardly, neither knowing what to say.
"I'm sorry, my lord, she's not here," she croaked eventually.
"I can see that," he said softly. "You remember what I said before, Guinevere. Anything at all I can do to help, just name it."
No matter how Merlin complained about Arthur, he was always respectful towards Gwen, and for that she was grateful, but she needed more than respect at this moment.
"Could you find Morgana? I'd like to talk to her."
"Of course I can. I need to shout at her about stealing my crown again, anyway. You'd have thought the novelty would have worn off by now, but apparently petty larceny never gets old."
That elicited a half-smile from Gwen and as Arthur had promised, a few minutes later Morgana came in.
"Oh, Gwen." She hugged her tightly.
"Arthur found you then," said Gwen between sniffs. "I hope you gave him his crown back."
"Eventually."
"He sounded pretty annoyed."
"Believe me, I've been suitably admonished. I shan't be hiding it again until at least next week."
-o-
As soon as she heard that Arthur had recovered from his fever, Morgana came to see him.
"Arthur. You're well again."
He returned her hug with his good arm. "I'm not that easy to be rid of."
"You did kill the Questing Beast, though it nearly killed you."
"Yes, I'm still not sure how I did that. Sometimes I forget just how great I am at everything…"
"I think I may have preferred you when you were unconscious."
Arthur suddenly seemed thoughtful. "You told me not to go."
Morgana was embarrassed as she remembered running down the steps to throw herself at Arthur, shouting nonsense at him. She had really thought that he would die. "I'd had a bad dream. I wasn't well."
"You said you'd seen terrible things. What did you mean?"
"In my dream… Oh, it doesn't matter. I was hysterical."
Arthur dropped the matter. Morgana couldn't help thinking it was something of a coincidence how he had been injured so soon afterwards; but then again she had been wrong about Lady Sophia. She could do without humiliating herself over her silly dreams again.
-o-
"Morgana…"
Ever since Arthur had recovered from the Questing Beast's bite, Morgana had heard that voice calling her. She had thought she was imagining it but it was more frequent now.
"Morgana the Fay…"
Eventually she replied. It felt odd shouting back at thin air, but she couldn't stand it any more. "What is it? What do you want?"
"Ah, you respond at last. Go to the dungeons, down deeper than you've gone before, and you shall find the beginning of your destiny."
She still felt ridiculous following the voice in her head, but she took a torch and easily slipped past the guards. She went down as the voice had told her to and found a door, unlocked, at the bottom of the passage.
Entering and looking around, there are appeared to be no one there. She was about to go back when the dragon swooped down, causing her to scream in surprise. She made for the door.
"Do not be frightened."
She whirled around, recognising the voice. His wings beat loudly behind him and the sheer breadth of them was terrifying. "It was you," she said. "You've been speaking to me." She had known Uther had kept one dragon alive, but not where – and she had had no idea that it could speak.
The dragon perched on the large rock jutting over the chasm and furled his wings up behind him. He tilted his head to one side and regarded her. "Indeed I have. There is much I have to tell you. You are destined for great things, Morgana."
"I don't believe in destiny." The torchlight jiggled about; her hand was still shaking.
"Whether we believe in it or not we are all bound by fate."
"So you can tell me about mine, then?"
"In part. There are things we cannot know."
"Well, go on then."
The dragon smiled, if dragons could be said to smile. "You are even more impatient than Merlin in your desire for answers."
"Merlin?"
"He too has an important role to play. He is destined to serve at King Arthur's side, as his loyal companion."
Morgana found that part easy to believe, but remained sceptical of him. She could have told him months ago that Merlin and Arthur were destined to be friends for a long time yet.
"And I? Will I be at Arthur's side? What will become of me?"
She would have sworn the dragon was mocking her as he spoke. "Your fates are entwined. Whether you will be at his side is for you to determine. But your destiny is more than that."
"Why do you speak in riddles? What are these great things I am meant to do?"
"You will never discover that unless you embrace your powers."
Morgana grew even more frustrated. "I have no powers! You make no sense!"
"And what of your premonitions? Your dreams that come true?"
"How do you know of that?" The dragon didn't reply. "Not all my dreams come true. Some of them… but I don't think they're much, only coincidence…"
"Coincidence is how weak minds explain what they cannot understand. You do not believe what you say and I know it." He shook his wings out fully. "Come back when you have accepted what you know to be the truth."
He took off with a rattle of chains, leaving Morgana to puzzle over what he had said as she wandered slowly back up to her room. She had taken an instant dislike to him, but the dragons were powerful and mystical creatures, she knew that. Perhaps there was truth in what he said, perhaps not. It didn't matter, she supposed; practising magic right under Uther's nose would be a death sentence in itself. Whether her dreams were really premonitions or not, the best thing she could do would be to conceal them.
-o-
The court of Orkney were visiting for the spring tournament and Morgana had spent yet another night standing around between knights in varying degrees of heavy inebriation and ladies who batted their eyelashes pathetically at them.
She slipped out onto the balcony to find Arthur already there. "Any excuse for a banquet these days," she said.
Arthur turned round. "We need to welcome our guests with proper ceremony. And I'd say more an excuse for you to wear those silly dresses." He grinned at her. "You're very beautiful tonight."
"And you're very drunk."
He gave a lop-sided shrug. "The knights of Orkney hold dull conversation. It's as well you're here. I've been longing for a friendly annoyance all night."
She went to stand in front of him. "Well, I can certainly provide that."
"Mm. Do you ever think I don't notice that the more annoyed you are with me the more you make an effort?"
"I think your mind is more than slightly addled."
"In vino veritas, or something." Morgana had a strange flash back to their lessons when they were younger, when Arthur would poke her under the desk as often as he could get away with it and complain that he would never need to know Latin when he could use a sword to speak for him.
"Or something, certainly. Just don't fall under the table or make any promises you can't keep."
"Oh, you think so little of me," said Arthur, still grinning wildly at her.
"I wonder why that is. Oh, and don't start singing, please." Hadn't that been a memorable occasion, she thought.
"You know, Princess Morfyth told me I had a voice like a bell. She didn't even hear me sing."
"You remember her?"
"Of course. Very pretty," he said. Morgana raised an eyebrow. "Oh, don't worry, not a patch on your beauty, I swear. Not enough to sway my gaze, though you have to give her points for enthusiasm."
"I'm going to excuse myself and go to bed now, Arthur. Might I advise that you do the same?"
"Advise all you want."
She tried to look at him disapprovingly but only managed to smile. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight, my lady," he said, reaching out clumsily to take her hand and kiss it. "Sweet dreams."