Disclaimer – I know someone else had to have gotten this idea, and it's either half finished on their computer or already up. I don't have time to read all the fics so if this idea is already up than I'll gladly take this one down.
It's safe to say that Merlin is not mine, neither are the quotes or whatever is familiar to you. After reading this, you might be glad that Merlin isn't mine. In fact, you'd be thanking whatever you worship that I had nothing to do with Merlin while crying in gratitude.
Warnings – It's a Teen, with major hintage of sexual content and mild language. Not for the easily squeamish. Don't worry though, I won't go HBO on you.
The dragon is an Original Character, which I hope won't turn people off (as for his name, yes, yes I am a fan), and so is Galahad. Others are just passing by. OOCness is here as well. People change over the years, sometimes for the better, sometimes not.
There's no major romantic moment, and if you want to see parings you are free to do so. There will be bromance (it's Merlin, it's against the rules to not have it), though I will admit that I won't be able to get the show's level of bromance.
Lots of quotes from Game of Thrones and a weapon, but they're more like Easter Eggs than anything, so don't freak and go: "I gotta do homework?!" Chill, it's alright.
Info – Season 5 AU. Everything happened, except the incident with Morgana. She found them, but Merlin knocked her out with a spell and, when he saw Arthur's face, let her live (I know it's flimsy). After Arthur dies, he goes to Camelot to warn Guinevere that Morgana is still alive before leaving overseas. He comes back after a few years with a red dragon. He takes Percival with him to hunt down Morgana, bring her to Camelot, and have the Queen sentence her.
This is unbetaed, so all mistakes are mine (Spell check is not a miracle worker). Also, I couldn't concentrate during the final two episodes because of the dirt that made my eyes water, so there might be things I mess up. It is AU, so I'll use that as an excuse (except those who are reading this now know...)
First published Fanfic, so any critics are welcome. Especially the grammar police.
For those who like listening to music while reading – Keep the Streets Empty and If I had a Heart by Fever Ray; Lion and Wolf by Thrice; Heavy in your Arms by Florence and the Machine; Cold by Aqualung and Lucy Schwartz; Where Butterflies Never Die and A New Hope by Broken Iris (picked at my normal reading level, though I did repeat some twice. Feel free to repeat what you like!)
Okay, major lengthy beginning over! Get ready to A) Cry at certain parts; 2) Get so confused you don't even review and go read something with more intelligence; or #) Go: "What the hell was that sh – " in 3 – 2 – Banjo!
* ~ "I will hurt you for this. I don't know how yet, but give me time. A day will come when you
think yourself safe and happy, and suddenly your joy will turn to ashes in your mouth,
and you'll know the debt is paid." – A Clash of Kings ~ *
Morgana watched Aithusa fly through the air, hunting for food to eat. She had grown stronger in the last few years of Arthur's death. Her flights were more confidant, her flame stronger, and she learned to work around her lame leg.
She watched her suddenly stop, dive, then appear again with something in her jaws. Morgana smiled as she brought it to the cliff, laying it on the flat surface. The deer was in his death spasm when she went to pet Aithusa, who cooed. Morgana had no doubt that in a few years, they would both be completely healed.
'And then?' she suddenly thought.
She tore into the deer as Morgana continued to touch her neck, "I'll take back my birthright, then we'll search again for Emrys." Aithusa looked up at her from her meal, blood dripping from her jaw. She looked sad as she turned back to her meal. "What is wrong, Aithusa?"
She knelt to her as she turned and started to 'talk'. Her noises were slow, and were more growls than words, but she was getting better. Morgana listened hard, mouthing out the sound.
"Gren...ouh...vhe – Guinevere?" Aithusa nodded her head. Morgana thought of the Queen, the woman who was once her servant and friend. Guinevere had changed as well after Arthur's death. She had severed the laws and allowed magic to once again enter the kingdom of Camelot. Morgana, like many others, were skeptic of the news and watched Camelot from afar. But Druids from all over came and laid camps in her lands, and were never harmed. They were even protected by the knights when those came to harm them.
She remembered the day she walked into Camelot, disguised as an old woman, just a few months passed. Children played in the courtyard, a mix of Druids and Camelotians, either throwing magic water balls or wielding enchanted wooden swords. Songs from all over were sung near the market during midday, and, at night, knights used enchanted torches in their patrol.
'If I could, I would bring Uther back just to see his face,' she thought, smiling. She looked to Aithusa, who was eating her meal. "I don't want to hurt Guinevere," she told her, "perhaps now that Arthur is dead, and she has allowed magic to have a home in Camelot, perhaps she will listen to me. She already has a Druid priest on her council. If she could forgive me for what I'd done to her, she might allow me a spot on her council."
Morgana closed her eyes as the dream was birth into her mind. It's been so long since she dreamt of ruling Camelot with Guinevere. Old, childlike feeling burst inside her chest as she saw them gossiping at the dining table, Gwen almost spiting out her drink in laughter at something Morgana said. She opened her eyes and tears spilled out.
"I doubt that will happen, Morgana."
She turn to the familiar voice, sneering at the man a few feet in front of her. She heard Aithusa move behind her, curing around her.
"Back from the dead, Emrys?"
"Did I die?" he asked, "I'm sorry I missed the funeral. Did you arrange it, or Gwen?"
She smirked, "don't worry, Emrys, you'll – !"
She looked down in shock and saw a hand push down something metal on her sleeve. Her vision blinked into darkness, but Aithusa's scream brought her back. She found the world falling down as she looked to her. Time slowed as she watched razor teeth bit into Aithusa's neck, tearing into the defenseless muscle. She spoke a spell and held out her hand.
She found herself looking up to Emrys' face as her vision cleared.
"It worked," he said, looking away from her. "Unbind her." Her vision blurred as two figures came and bent down to her. She felt pressure release on her arms and chest, but something warm stayed on her forearm. "How long till we reach Camelot?"
"At our speed," an unfamiliar voice answered, "one day, but we'd arrive at night."
"What a surprise to bring to the Queen," a younger voice said, "what do you think she'll do?"
Her vision cleared. She saw the night sky. "I have an idea, but I won't spoil it for you, Morgana." Emrys' head came into her view again. She noticed that he had stubble with specks of gray in it, as did his hair. "How are you feeling?"
"What did you do to me?" Morgana asked, picking herself up. Her right arm gave away and she landed hard on her elbow. She hissed at the pain, gritting her teeth.
"I bound your magic. Don't worry, once I take the brace off your magic will come back."
Morgana picked up her arm and looked. Her fingers twitched as pulsating dark veins appeared. She followed the veins as it faded into the metal brace on her wrist. It was silver, plain, and dull. She sat up and turned it around, before trying to take it off. Her vision blurred and blinked again. It was day.
"Should we be worried about her blackouts?" the older voice asked behind her.
"It's just her magic fighting mine. If she stayed awake, her mind and soul would burn out. It should stop..." the voice trailed off as her vision blacked again.
"Mor...Morg...was wrong..."
She opened her eyes and saw a figure walk away, then a slab of metal moving before her vision blacked.
She woke to screeching metal. She started to shiver as the cold soaked into her bones, except for her wrist, which was warmed. Morgana looked down. No veins were showing in her hand, but, when she looked closer, she saw the skin closest to the bracer seemed burned. There was no hole, not even a scratch on the iron bracer, and it was put tightly on her wrist and forearm.
She leaned back and met cold stone. She jerked and looked around her. She knew the room, it was the same room that Uther chained her in when she disobeyed him. There was symbols on the room now, engraved into the walls so elegantly that it couldn't have been etched with a tool.
A chamber pot was in the corner, and a small table with a pitcher and cup near the door. Her mouth seemed to dry at the sight of it, and she started walking to it. The door opened and she jerked upright. It was Emrys, wearing black and red leather armor, with chain mail made in the shape of scales.
"Come to kill me, Emrys?"
He walked further into the room, the door closing behind him. "I've brought you your meal. You've not eaten in the last five days, you must be feeling a bit peckish."
He took the plate he was holding, a rather large one, and brought it to the table. He laid it down and picked up the pitcher and glass. He filled it and held the glass to her. She didn't move. He looked down, shaking his head and smiling.
"If I wanted you dead, your corpse would be fertilizing the ground." He put down the pitcher. She backed up as she saw stairs growing from the stones. He took the plate and laid it on the floor, sitting down on the slowing stairs. "I've learn lots of spells while I was away, Morgana. But enough about me, come and eat. Nothing's poisoned," he said, taking a sip of the water. "See?"
Morgana felt uneasy about his smile. It did not reach his eyes. "You've changed."
"Time changes us all. From ward to High Priestess, manservant to King."
"King?! King of what?"
His smile faded, "I thought we agreed to not talk about me."
"I agreed to nothing," she sneered at Emrys, "how did you become king?" He stared at her, before standing up. He didn't move towards her, but the door. He told the guard to open it, "running away, Emrys?"
"I'll not talk about my past while I'm this sober," he told her, then to the guard, "have a servant bring us wine, quickly."
"Yes, your grace." With those words, the door closed again.
" Your grace," Emrys repeated, then said to himself, "I should kill Galahad for ever saying that."
He continued to stare at the wall, completely ignoring her. The smell of the cooked meat grabbed her attention and she found herself looking at the plate in longing. Hunger took over her caution and she went to the plate, knelt down, and began devouring the food. Through the haze, she recognize the seasoning on the meat. It was what Gwen would make her whenever she was upset. 'Exactly the same.'
The door screeched again and she moved away from the plate, holding a strip in her hand. A servant came into the room with another pitcher, a young girl with a Pendragon crest on her chest.
"Just give it to me," he told her, "you can go back to your queen."
The little girl gave him the pitcher and glasses, bowing to him. "Your grace," she said, then walked out.
"Really going to kill that child priest," he said mumbled while walking back to the table. He put both glasses down and filled them, then put the wine pitcher next to the water one. He held one glass out to her, drinking from the other, not looking at her. She hesitated, "I'm not thirsty."
"I didn't offer you water," he stated. "Your voice is rather hoarse, did you know that?"
She looked at the glass again, then took it. He took the wine pitcher and sat while drinking, filling up the glass again when he was down. She waited, watching as he kept his gaze to the wall and taking a drink. "Well?" she finally asked.
He turned to her, "well?"
Morgana glared at him, "who gave you a crown?"
Emrys looked at her, gulping down his drink. He moved the cup away from his lips, "no one gave me the crown, I took it."
He refilled it while she stared. The words sounded foreign, coming from him.
"Finally showing yourself, Emrys."
He gave a short laugh, "Emrys. The immortal. A Bringer of Albion. They never tell you how to bring peace, and what it takes to keep it. Some say it's honor, some say fear and blood. But do you know what it all leads to? What it really takes to have peace?" He turned to her, a mad look flashed through his eyes. "You going to guess?"
She flinched back as the wine from his glass splashed over the edge, "a mixture of both."
His eyes flickered again, "lying. You must lie. The lowest peasant to the Lords to the surrounding Kings must never know your weaknesses or your strengths. They must think you an unbreakable demigod that has no faults and can never be beaten in battle. You must be shrouded in a web lies, and whoever knows the truth must be paid, scared into silence, or killed."
Morgana watched as he looked away from her and poured more wine. Her gaze flickered to the door, then back to him. She heard the strip of meat hit the stone floor and backed slowly from his gaze.
There was that smile again, "who would believe you, Morgana? Besides, your sentence is soon. It would be a waste." He went back to his drink. He seemed to be more relaxed now, his eyes slightly red. But his speech did not slur, "I'm surprised at you, Morgana. Not once did you ask about Aithusa."
Razor sharp teeth flashed through her mind, "you killed her!"
He looked away from her, "not by my hands, no. We are even now, we both had others take what we loved – "
The sound of the bells drowned out his words. He downed the rest of the cup and stood up. "You have a short time to yourself before I come back."
Then he went to the door and called out. As the door opened, he turned to her once more, "I am sorry for what I've done to you."
Then he was gone.
* ~ "Falling is a lot like flying except there's a more permanent destination." – BBC Sherlock ~ *
The courtyard was filled with hundreds of angry people thirty for her blood. On the platform, she could see the main street chocked with a hundred more. They hanged from the windows and stood on the roofs, any place they could find to see her.
"Witch!"
"She – Devil!"
"Burn in the pits of Hell!"
"Kingslayer!"
"Kinslayer!"
Something cold and wet splashed on her cheek hard enough to turn her head. It was rancid and slid down her cheek.
"KINSLAYER!"
Something hard hit her spine, it's uneven surface dug into her clothed back.
"KINSLAYER!"
More objects were thrown at her, some soft, but most were hard. Something scraped the gag she was wearing, and something else hit her on the nose.
"Enough!" The throwing ceased. She took a breathe through her nose. It stung. "I know the pain that your going through, believe me, I do. But it is no excuse to savagely beat someone that is defenseless."
'Guinevere.'
"She killed my son!" a voice in the crowd cried out.
"And she will be punished," Guinevere said over the raised voices. "But we will not torture her. We will not sink to her level." The crowd grew silent. "Geoffrey, the charges."
Morgana tried to turn to the balcony, but the chains held her in place.
"Morgana Pendragon," an elderly voice began. "You are charged with the crime of using blood magic and necromancy, not for the purpose of religious reasons, but to commit treason. You are charged with King Uther Pendragon's death, your father, and helping the murderer Mordred to kill the late King Arthur Pendragon, your brother..."
She blocked the man's words out as she turned her head more. She saw Gwen, dressed in a fine silk dress. It was mostly white, with red and gold used as embroidery. To her right were two knight, Sir Leon, and another that was vaguely familiar. A young boy of thirteen was by the large one's side, meeting her eye and gazing at her with sympathy.
To Gwen's left was Emrys, dressed in black robes with red trimmings. 'He's dripping with blood,' she thought. Next to Emrys was the Druid priest, and next to him, the elderly man reading her charges. The elderly man stopped moving his lips and rolled up the paper.
"She should at least have her say," Guinevere commented softly. Morgana met her eye and found her face carefully masked.
"My Queen," Emrys began, loud enough for everyone to hear but quiet enough to be mistaken for him talking to the Queen in secret, "you have a good heart, but the witch's voice is wicked. Should she speak, I fear that all would fall under her spell." 'You know I have no power.' Emrys met her gaze, it was carefully masked too. "Even as I look at her, I feel sympathy for her rise within me."
The crowd started to mummer to itself and when she looked, all averted her gaze. 'He lies, he sealed my power!' Her cries were muffled. She tried to work off the gag on her mouth, but it was bound tight. She turned her head back to the balcony. None met her eye but the young boy, who showed her his true feelings for a moment before placing a mask. 'What do you know?'
"Then I have no choice," Guinevere began softly, then stronger, "Though I saw you as my sister, it is clear that you have not seen me the same way. Sir John, take off her head."
The crowds roar was deafening. All cheered as hands pushed her down and made her kneel.
"Wait!"
The hands stopped with the crowd.
"Merlin?" Guinevere asked. "Why did you order them to stop?"
The crowd started to whisper, staring up in confusion and doubt.
"I wish for her head too, my Queen," Emrys said over the voices. Morgana turned her head to look at him, "however, she is a High Priestess. As I am sure Bors will tell you, High Priestess are invulnerable to mortal blades."
She could feel the crowd shift their gaze to the Druid Priest, who, in a single moment, meet all of their gaze as if they were all equal in his eyes before turning to the Queen. "I'm afraid it is true, my Queen. Sir John's blade, though sharp, would not so much as scratch her skin."
Guinevere seemed to ponder. The crowd waited patiently, all whispering to themselves.
"Perhaps they will burn her?"
"They may drown her."
"I think they'll hang her."
"Maybe they'll lock her up somewhere?"
"Maybe they'll have Merlin's dragon eat her?"
'Dragon?'
"My Queen, if I may make a suggestion?"
Some that heard Emrys' voice started telling the others to be silent.
"Of course, speak your mind."
The crowd seemed to hold their breath. Emrys smiled at Guinevere, "you have a kind heart, Gwen. I can see in your eyes that you do not wish to cause her anymore harm than what your bounds are doing. I will offer you this." Emrys waved upward, pointing to something. Morgana turned her head the other way.
'Emrys' dragon...'
"My dragon, Rache, is but two years old and, although he looks rather large, cannot yet breath fire."
The dragon was curled on one of the towers, looking down at the crowd. He raised his head at his name, then bowed it, as if he was sorry.
"If you could wait a few years, he would be able to make a stable flame, strong enough to forge a sword."
"You would have me burn her?" Guinevere asked so softly Morgana had to strain to hear her.
"Burn the Witch!"
"Burn her!"
"BURN THE WITCH!"
Emrys held his hand up, "please, let me finish!" The crowd slowly stopped their chanting. He looked back to Guinevere, speaking in that low voice again, "I would never asked that of you, Gwen. I merely suggested that when my dragon can sustain a flame, I would forge a sword in that fire and give it to you to carry out your sentence."
"But to wait years, Merlin?" the Druid priest asked quietly. "If we put her in a prison, she would only escape."
"She has a dragon!" someone cried out in the audience.
The crowd started to panic, many looking up at the sky.
"Her dragon is dead!" Emrys announced over the voices.
"How?!"
"I was preoccupied with Percival in capturing the High Priestess, but Galahad saw it all."
She turned the other way to stare at the young boy as he moved and gripped the railings, "it was a spectacle. White and red met up in the sky and clashed with enough force to deafen my ears, the two dragons snapping and biting at each others throats. Rache could only claw as the white dragon breathed fire on him, seeming to blind him, and clawed his soft underbelly. However, when I thought that Rache would lose, he managed to pin her to the mountain's side and tear off the beast's head."
'He lies,' she thought as the crowd breathed as one in relief and rejoiced. 'All of them are liars.'
"As for a prison," Emrys said over the voices while staring at Guinevere, "if you would give the witch to me, I could leave her in a place that even a God couldn't find a way out of."
"There is such a place?" Guinevere asked.
"I found it in my travels. It's a null place, build by ancients to prison their most powerful enemies."
"She will not be harmed?"
"No, my Queen, she will not be harmed."
Guinevere looked away from him, a thoughtful look on her face. The crowd already made up their mind.
"Take the Witch!"
"Bring her far from here Merlin!"
"Take Her!"
Guinevere met her eyes again, her own clouded. "Are you sure it will hold her?"
"More than sure, Gwen."
"Do you need to prepare?"
"I could bring her now, if that is your wish."
"Then do so." Guinevere looked away from her.
"Sir John, bring her to the gate!"
The crowd cheered as they left the balcony, the young boy sparing only a glance. Her chains were unlocked from the podium and used in leading her down the stairs. The crowd created a path for them, though were still close enough for her to feel them. All held hatred in their eyes, the thirst for blood quenched for a while.
'Most of them,' she thought as her gaze caught a woman who looked like she was going to claw out Morgana's eyes.
The juices started to itch as she was led outside the gate, where the dragon laid and watched her pass. The sun reflected off his scales and made him seem almost golden in color, his uncurling tail seemed to be on fire. Something moved down her face and she moved her head down. The fruit splattered on the ground. She picked up her head and hissed as the juice fell into one of her eyes.
"Beautiful, isn't he?" the young voice mused next to her. "He appears golden in color, but when he moves you can see the flickers of his crimson scales. A beautiful, magnificent creature we would do well to fear."
Morgana looked at him, forgetting her eye, then around. Emrys was talking to the one holding her chain, while Guinevere and her knights were near the gathering crowd. She looked back to the young boy, 'what are you warning me about?'
He gave no indication that he read her face, "you should see what flame he can sustain. It appears red, almost the same color as his scales. The strange thing, however, is how silent it is. This whole forest could be set aflame, yet there would be no sound."
'Except the screams of the victims,' she saw on his flicker. 'Is that my sentence?'
The young boy glanced over to Emrys before looking at the dragon again, "many think him an unthinking beast with no mind, and doubt his abilities. They all bow to him, however, in the end." He looked back to her, stepping closer. A mournful mask was placed, and he whispered, "his heart is still healing. Don't do anything to distraught him, or you will suffer a fate far worse than what you are going to."
Then the young boy was gone, brushing against her lightly. Emrys glanced over, looking at the young boy, then her. She stared at him with a blank face. He started to walk over to her.
"Merlin?" the large knight from before asked.
Emrys tilted his head to him, then looked, "yes, Percival?"
"Can I have a word?"
Emrys smiled, "if it won't take all day, then of course." He moved next to her. The large knight looked at her before joining him. "What is on your mind? Don't take long, I doubt the crowd will be content with Gwen for much longer."
They both looked at the Queen simultaneously, then back at each other. The large knight spared her a glance before whispering to Emrys, "during these last few months, I hoped that you have begun to trust me more – "
"You don't think I trust you?" Emrys said with a humorous smirk. "Is that all? Silly knight, of course I trust you. Your one of the few I can."
She looked to the large knight, whose eyes held sorrow for a moment, "and yet you continue to suffer alone."
Emrys' face fell in an instant, hollow eyes moving to Morgana while his body stiffened. It was gone in an instant, and Emrys smiled that empty smile at the knight, "how about we continue this conversation another time?"
He made to move but the knight gripped his shoulder, "I know what you mean to do. I have seem men with the same fire in their eyes, and they all fell, one way or the other. I won't stand by and watch another one of my friends do the same."
'He's going to break,' Morgana thought as Emrys looked at neither of them, feeling the hair at the back of her neck rise. But he didn't. He looked at the ground and laughed softly, a nostalgia look in his eyes.
"That's what you fear," he said mostly to himself. He looked back to the knight, the nostalgia look still in his eyes. "You shouldn't worry about me so much, you have a squire to look after. Look, here comes our Queen."
Guinevere walked over with her hands together, her head held high. Her face was stone, "I wish to speak to her, alone."
The larger knight left with a bow, but Emrys stayed, "Gwen, I don't think this is wise."
"Please, Merlin."
They stared at each other, before he bowed, "my Queen."
Guinevere watched him go with a sad look in her eyes, before she turned to Morgana. She stared at her for a moment, before putting a hand in one of her sleeves. Morgana leaned back as she pulled out something. It was a cloth. Guinevere put it in her other hand and called for the one holding her chain.
"Your water skin, Sir John." The knight gave it to her. "Has some got in your eye?" she asked her.
Morgana stared before nodding. Gwen took the water skin, held her eye open, and poured some of the water in it. The sting was gone instantly. Gwen dampened the cloth and began wiping her face and neck. "I try to understand why you've done what you've done," Gwen said as she took bits of food out of her hair, "and each time I did, I felt a burning rage inside my chest that threatens to consume me. I understand, wanting Uther dead, and, after what Merlin told me, I can understand killing him too."
'He told you,' she thought as Gwen looked back at her face.
"Arthur would have accepted you back," she told her. "I saw it in his face whenever your name was mentions, how much it pained him to ride out with knights bent on bringing him your head. After I heard of his death, and Merlin told me you were alive, I waited for you to show yourself so I could take my blade to kill you myself.
But months after Arthur's death, the fires turned to cinder, and I called off any searches for you. I don't want you dead, Morgana, and, when Merlin returned, I wanted to deter his search for you. But the thought of seeing you again stopped my voice, and now you are sentenced to die.
If, after Merlin's dragon can breathe flame, if you no longer wish for the throne, and you wish to come back, I'll be waiting. Camelot may not give you another chance, but I will."
Morgana watched her go, her body and mind numb. She felt the ground rumble, then someone move her body. She looked to see the dragon laying flat on the ground, his golden horns glowing.
"Try not to squirm," Emrys told her as she was placed on the dragon. He climbed behind her and held her by her waist as the dragon took flight. Morgana snapped out of her stupor and reached for something to hold as he climbed in the air. Then he was moving forward.
The water on her face instantly seemed to freeze as the fall wind struck her face. She looked down as the forest turned into a blur of green and red. She saw flocks of birds veer from them and fly in different directions, with only a few daring to fly near them. They fell behind once the dragon beat his wings to gain speed.
'He's playing with them,' she thought as she saw the amusement in his eyes when he moved his head to watch a smaller, common bird come close to his head.
"He's a year and a half old," Emrys told her. She looked away from the bird, glaring at him before looking ahead. She heard him sigh, then felt the gag on her mouth lessen and come off. She turned to watch him throw it away, "I would of done it sooner, but I only get so many chances at silence."
She stared at him, then turned to the dragon, "I thought all dragons were destroyed."
"All those here, yes, but you'd be surprise what exists beyond this island."
She looked at him again, "that's why you killed Aithusa, to make yours the superior one."
Emrys dug his nails in her stomach, glaring at her. "I told you, it was because your 'son' killed Arthur that I took her life."
"That's only half the reason."
Morgana broke their eye contact, looking at the dragon.
"Not another word, Rache."
"You mean to let her suffer the rest of her life in the Dead Woods," the dragon turned his head to look at them, "why not tell her the truth?"
"I don't mean for her to suffer," Emrys argued.
"No, not to suffer," the dragon agreed. "But it would be kinder to end her life."
"Arthur would want to see her redeemed, so I am offering her that choice."
"Unwillingly."
Emrys said nothing for the rest of the day, not when she uncurled his fingers on her stomach, and not when she asked him how long they would fly. She watched as the land beneath them turned to water, then to land again.
When the stars started to appear, Emrys patted the dragon's side. He landed next to a black lake, their reflection almost perfect in the still waters. The dragon laid on his belly while Emrys slid off, holding his arms out to help her.
Morgana paused. The young boy's voice appeared in her head, ' "Don't do anything to distraught him, or you will suffer a fate far worse than what you are going to." '
She let him help her down. He looked at the chains on her hands and took them off. The iron bracer stayed. He held up a wine skin, she didn't take it. He shrugged, then placed his hand on her head. His eyes flashed gold in the darkness.
She woke to the sound of birds chirping. She stood up and looked around. There was a large hole in the ground with claw marks.
"He likes the ground." She turned to Emrys, who put the branches he was holding down and started to stack them. "Reminds him of his egg, he said. Go do your business, the food will be done by the time you come back."
He ignored her then. Morgana watched him for a moment before walking away. The muscles in her legs yearned to be stretched. The farther she walked, a growing urge to run rose within her, but the sound of beating wings above her slowed her stride.
As promised, the food was done when she came back. Emrys was gone, but the dragon landed before she could think. They stared at each other.
"You are not hungry, Priestess?" he asked. "And no, the food is not poisoned."
"And I am suppose to trust the word of a murderer?"
"Says the woman who murdered her own kind for information," the dragon said. "Your hands have more innocent blood on them than my claws." The dragon curled in his hole, completely relaxed. "You are weak from hunger, hollow one. Eat to regain your strength."
Morgana looked over to the plate laid out for her, the dragon's words from earlier replayed in her head. She heard the dragon sigh. Chirping birds covered their silence.
"He is not picky with how the food fills your belly," the dragon said after a while, "he will force it down your throat if you don't eat."
The thought made her shiver. She took the plate and sat far away. She ate in silence, wondering where Emrys was. Her eyes moved to the dragon, who had his eyes closed. "Where did he find you?" she found herself asking through her food.
The dragon opened his molten eyes and looked at her, "my egg was with a priest in a land west of here."
"And where is here?"
The dragon said nothing, blinking at her.
"Here you go," Emrys voice said from her left. She turned to find him carrying a large deer, which he dropped in from of the dragon. The dragon looked at the stag, reared his head, and breathed flame on it. He stopped when it was almost black. "I swear," Emrys said when he tore into the meat, "when will you stop eating so much?"
The dragon looked up and glared.
"He can breathe fire..."
Emrys looked at her and smiled, "has been for a few months." She watched as he pulled out his sword, a black steel blade that shined brilliantly. "I had him help me forge this sword when he could. It took about three days, and, as you can see, the magic changed the color of it rather drastically." He tilted it, and she saw the crimson streaks, "some began to call it 'the mourner with bloody tears.' It's too much of a mouthful, if you ask me. I should get to naming it, someday." He put the blade away, "you done eating then?"
She looked down at her half eaten plate. She heard Emrys begin to walk towards her.
"Let her finish," the dragon said. "She has a long way to walk."
Morgana stood up and he stopped, "I've seen men fight with less." Emrys turned and began walking. She looked at the dragon before she put down her plate and followed.
They didn't talk, not even when they passed other travelers. She took note of their short stature and rough accented voices. "Where are we?" she asked him after they were long gone.
"Why do you want to know?"
"I'm curious."
He gave a short chuckle, "of course you are."
He said nothing after that. The road was getting harder to walk on, and she kept tripping and having to step over fallen branches and vines.
Emrys suddenly stopped, tilting his head. She watched him as he touched the frost covered trees, tearing the bark off of one. He took off his glove and scratched with his nail on the softer bark, looking what was on his finger and tasting it.
"We're almost there," he told her while walking.
Morgana followed, looking at the exposed bark as she passed. It was red, seeping with golden sap.
He stopped again and looked around. He then walked behind a tree, arm curing around the trunk to stabilize his footing. She followed, then stared at the empty space. She looked down, there was no footprints on the ground. She then looked up, the tree was bare. She turned to walk down the path she was walking. Their footprints was gone, and the trees were different. Morgana turned around to find the same happened behind her.
"Emrys," she called out.
Her voice echoed in the silent woods. No creatures were near, and the very wind seemed to be still. Her breathe seemed to freeze in the air.
"Emrys!"
Nothing stirred. She stood for a long time, waiting for something to appear. When nothing did, she tried to remember what direction she walked from. Nothing was familiar, so she picked a direction and walked.
Many seasons passed before her eyes as she walked and slept. Food and drink would appear near her head, and on the ground where she walked. She tried to find whoever was leaving it, but all her tries left her empty handed.
The forest was beyond quiet, not even her footfalls made any noise. She tore a branch off a tree once, and broke it into pieces. Not a sound.
The only sound was her voice and thoughts. Many voices would speak in her head; the young boy, Mordred, Emrys, Gwen, Arthur. She would pushed them far from her mind, but would regret it soon after as the silence from the forest seemed to close in around her.
Morgana found herself sitting down a few times, letting the voices and memories take over. She would then open her eyes and find herself staring at a different season, food and drink by her feet. Consistently, she would find a change of clothes and soap by any waterfall or river she stumbled across.
'Emrys could have picked a worse punishment,' Morgana thought after the third river she came across. By the sixth, she gave up trying to find the ones leaving the items for her. By the ninth, she was looking for fish, birds, and insects. By the eighteenth, she was cursing at the item givers and ignoring them. By the twenty – fourth, she was trying every trick she could think of to have them show themselves.
By fifty – three, she was climbing mountains and looking for any sign of life. Hundred – eighty two, she cried for Gwen. Three hundred and eight she was begging for Emrys to come back. One thousand and ninety – nine she fell off a mountain, waking on the ground with phantom pains.
The eighth after she lost count at two thousand, she was curled at the pool, wanting her brother. She couldn't remember his face, name, or his voice, only his words and the color gold remained. Memories were blurred in her mind, a mesh of nothing. She remembered his gaze, but his eyes were gone. His gaze was either kind or sad, but mostly sad. She brought a hand to her shoulder, trying to pretend it was him holding her.
'Your son killed – '
It was another set of words that lost their voice. Her brother's words usually spoke with annoyance at those words, but they were spoken with love, not hate. Not like those words would speak to her with. She wouldn't be surprised if the words spoke to her and intentionally left out her brother's name. She didn't know her son's name either, but she knew that he was dead too. Everyone she cared about was dead.
Except one. Gentle words that spoke with the softness of rain in summer. The gentle words were once married to her brother, and she tried to kill the gentle words, then she turned her to her side. She wished the gentle words were with her. She could hold her, unlike her dead brother.
At the eighteenth, she thought back to the faint phantom memories. At the nineteenth, she wanted a chance to be with her brother.
At the Twentieth, she stared in shock. Then she smiled, running into the golden man's arms.
* ~ "Love is poison. A sweet poison, yes, but it will kill you all the same." – A Clash of Kings ~ *
Merlin made his way out of Lady Telesa's room, feeling her dazed gaze on him. George had a hot bath made for him, steam falling from it in waves. He didn't argue with the servant as he helped take off his clothes and washed him. He came out of the bath red and her scent washed off him.
"Lord Edward is in his room," George told him while helping him put on his clothes, "reviewing his papers, your grace." Merlin closed his eyes, sighing. He felt his cloak being put on his shoulders and opened his eyes, "Sir Percival arrived while you were gone. I told him to come back near midnight."
"Good," he said. George stepped away and he left through the hidden passageway, pulling the hood up and covered his face. His strides became shorter, more effeminate, and he kept his head down. He felt his magic move in his throat, an uncomfortable sensation that made him bite his lip. 'Don't let him be like Lady Telesa,' he thought as the guard knocked on Lord Edward's door. Of course, he didn't get what he wanted, and he sank into the second scorching bath George provided for him slowly.
"Your potion, your grace."
Merlin took the bottle and drowned it. He gave the bottle back and let George wash him again, his mind in a numbing haze.
"Your grace," George began, helping him out of the bath. "If I may be so bold to ask...?"
Merlin looked at him, blinking a few times. "You may."
"Not that I believe you weak, your grace," he said while drying him. "Far from it. However, should you desire a break, from your..." George paused in speaking, looking away from him entirely for a moment, " 'negotiations', I would gladly take your place."
He stared at his servant, who started picking up his nightgown. Merlin took it, "I told you before, this is one thing you can't help me with."
He put on the gown, feeling George's hands helping him. "Your grace," he said, bowing to him. Merlin went to lay in his bed, listening to his servant work.
It was some time before he heard his servant walk towards him. He opened his eyes and saw a glass in his hand. "Your grace," he said, holding it to him. He sat up and took it. He felt George moved the pillows so he could lean back in comfort. He also noticed that he didn't leave a pitcher behind.
'A good servant knows his lord,' he thought. Merlin took a large gulp of the red wine.
At midnight, there was a knock at his door. George answered it, then let the knights in. "Sir Percival, Galahad."
"My king," Sir Percival said with a short bow.
"Your grace," Galahad said with a deep bow.
He got off the bed and motioned for them to sit at the table George put out. They all sat and George gave them glasses filled with wine. "I hope this will be a pleasant night meeting."
"Yes and no, I'm afraid."
He looked at Galahad, "well, start with the bad."
"King Lot was murdered," Percival said.
Merlin closed his eyes with a sigh, "by who?"
"The new king," Galahad answered. "Cassius."
He gripped his cup, "the Saxons went back on their treaty?"
"No," Percival told him, "the Saxons have started praising their admiration to you."
"They are forming a large kingdom in the East," Galahad added. "They hold your red dragon over their white field."
"Getting comfy with the Angles?" Merlin asked. "Interesting. What about this self proclaimed King Cassius?"
"An exiled Roman," Percival answered, "he took those that were loyal to him and invaded Lot's land, taking it for his own."
Merlin took a drink, the numbness in his body mixing with the drink. "How loyal do you think the Saxons are to me?"
"Enough to not invade."
Merlin nodded, "I'll visit them soon, and I'll have their help overthrowing this exiled king. If I offer the lands, they might have better mind for me."
"Is that wise?" Galahad asked.
"They will still answer to Camelot," Merlin said, "they'll just have more land to put their people. The coast must be cramped." He took another sip, "what's the good news?"
"Guinevere has found an heir."
"Who?"
"She wants to tell you personally," Percival answered.
"She has told you three, though."
"Just Leon and Percival," Galahad answered with no animosity. "I am just a squire."
George came up to him before he could comment, "your grace, there is a fae here."
Merlin put his glass down while the others tensed. He saw the golden armored soldier walk up to him, looking annoyed at being called a fae. "Gabriel, I hope you haven't brought news that would ruin my spirits."
"You might see it that way, Ambrosius. Purgatory have released Morgan Le Fay, and she is in Britannia."
He didn't feel the glass leave his hand, but he was dimly aware of George catching it before it fell. He stood up, "how did she escape?"
The soldier looked at him like he was a child, "there is no escaping Purgatory, Ambrosius."
"She had to have found a way out," he argued. "How did she get back here?"
"We brought her here."
Merlin gripped the table, the numbness leaving his body completely. "I must have soap in my ears, I thought I heard you say that you were idiotic enough to let that High Priestess back into Albion."
"It is not Albion yet, Ambrosius," the soldier said, his eyes flashing to molten amber. "There was no need to keep her, so we brought her back to your lands."
He dug into the table, "where did you leave the witch?"
The soldier stared at him unblinkingly, "do not let it cloud your mind, Ambrosius."
He felt the table break underneath his fist. "Where?!"
The soldier didn't so much as flinch. Merlin felt his fist throb in pain, he clenched his teeth. The soldier took his hand and the pain stopped. "Your love for the Once and Future king is admirable," he said, "but you do not have to worry. Morgan Le Fay holds no more blind anger in her heart. She will not harm her brother's inevitable return."
"I don't believe that for a moment," he said. "Did you bring her close to Avalon?"
The solder's eyes burned into his, "she will cause no harm to your king."
"You're out of your damn mind!"
The soldier's eyes flashed amber again. He brought a hand up to Merlin's head, "do not let it cloud your mind, Ambrosius."
When Merlin opened his eyes, the sunlight was pink. "Where's Gabriel?"
"He left after putting you in bed," George's voice came from far away. "Here, your grace."
A cup was brought to him, he took a drink before spitting it back out. "I don't want water, bring me wine."
George, surprisingly, held his ground, "you've had enough wine already, your grace."
He looked at him in mild shock before drinking the water. He got up, relieved himself, then turned to George, "go ready my horse."
"It's being done as we speak, your grace," George said, his voice back to it's regular brown nose tone. He brought his leather armor to him and started helping him put it on. "I have also gotten your supplies ready and have checked your armor for any damages. I have also polished your sword and sharpened your knives."
He snorted, "why do I ever doubt your abilities?"
"It's my duty, your grace." George said nothing else, but he almost blinded Merlin with his glowing pride.
He strapped on his sword as George put on his knives, "I swear, you would be taken within hours if you were a woman."
"I would still be by your side, your grace."
He felt his heart clenched at the familiar words, "stay here and keep a subtle eye on things."
"Yes, your grace."
He was gone in moments, only thinking for a moment if he should call Rache. 'I involved him enough already, this is my fight.'
It took a few days to reach Avalon, the mist reaching far into the lands. He got off his exhausted horse and let him graze around. He looked for any sign of life, but the fog was beyond thick. He heard the splashing of water, and waited.
Freya was as beautiful as ever, though her form seemed to quiver when he walked closer to her. She looked at him with blank eyes, before recognition filled them.
"What's happening to you?" he asked, wanting to touch her, but not daring.
She smiled softly, "I am becoming one with the waters of the world. Soon, I will be nothing more than a voice in the waves."
Merlin felt his throat clenched. Freya brought her hand up to touch his face, but her fingers down to her arm turned to water the moment they connected. He stepped back as her smile fell. They stared at each other for a long time.
He swallowed, "did Morgana come here?"
Freya's eyes turned blank again, "the High Priestess is on the island right now, by the Once and Future king's side."
Merlin felt his blood run cold. He started to move past her, but she blocked his way. They stared at each other again. "Let me through."
"I can't Merlin," she said with emotion in her voice. "The island is sacred – "
"And you let Morgana through."
"Morgana is a high priestess of the Old Religion," she said, "I could not stop her from entering the island."
"But you'll stop me?"
"Avalon is an island of healing," she argued, "you are a warlock dedicated to let your enemies die screaming."
Merlin flinched and looked away, "it's not like that."
"You had your dragon burn King Caleb's city to the ground when he didn't sign the treaty with Camelot."
"I had no choice!" he told her through a tight throat, "he would have sent hundreds of soldiers to pillage and destroy our lands!"
"And that justifies the murder all the men, women, and children that had no say in what their king does?" Freya asked, trying to grab his eye.
"War has casualties," he said with a tight chest.
"How many will it take for you to unite this island, a few hundred more soldiers and civilians?"
Merlin took a deep breath, then looked at her. Her eyes pleaded at him over the waves. "Thousands, if it comes to that," he told her. "They will learn to bend their knees, or I will destroy them."
"Merlin..."
He pushed past her, her form dissolved into droplets. He froze the water and walked across, sliding slightly on the surface.
When he touched on the island, the fog cleared immediately. He glanced at the beauty before walking to the center. Morgana was there, hovering over his body. She turned to him, her face betrayed nothing, "hello Emrys."
He gripped his sword, putting a pleasant smile on his face, "Morgana. What are you doing?"
She stood straighter, "I am healing his wound. It wouldn't do to have him come back and die again from the gaping hole."
He gave a short laugh, "is that so?" He walked forward, watching her move away with a wave of her hand, motioning for him to see for himself. He stared at her before looking down.
He caught himself looking at his stiff face and jerked his head down. His armor was off, laid neatly in a stack off to the side. His skin was pale, with not a tint of blue. Merlin almost thought he was sleeping if not for his still chest.
The wound was disgusting, with purple bruises and black veins near it. It smelt of rotten meat and pus. 'It smells like death.' He straightened his back, his eyes glancing at Arthur's face once more. He felt some tears fall down his face from the smell and he turned away.
"So, why the sudden change of heart?" Merlin asked through a closed throat.
"I had time to think in that prison," she said.
"Think?"
"There was nothing else there."
He gave a short laugh, "what did you think about? The perfect revenge on your brother, or me? Or do you mean to do both? Having your brother's corpse be a puppet of yours would serve you quite nicely there."
Morgana shook her head at him, "I only wise to heal my brother."
Merlin snorted, motioning with his head to him. "Kind of late for that. In case you haven't notice, his heart stopped a long time ago." He cleared his throat. "Besides, last you saw of each other, you've seen pretty keen on having his head on a spike and watching your pet crows eat out his eyes."
Morgana looked away from him, "I did, but not anymore."
"Did your crows die of hunger?"
She looked at him again, a somber look on her face. "I forgave."
He laughed, bringing his hand off his sword and brought it to his head. "Forgave," he managed to say. He put his hand down to lean of the slab, his fingers brushing against something cold. He curled his fingers into a fist before they could reach out. "So you forgave everybody?"
Morgana nodded.
"You forgave your brother?"
She glanced at him, "yes."
"Gwen?"
"Of course."
Merlin smiled, "even me?"
She stared hard at him, "yes. After I knew what you went through."
He felt his smile start to fall, "out of curiosity, how did you find out?"
Morgana looked away from him and motion around them, "Avalon."
"Yes, that's the name of the island." Her face wrinkled, he smiled with a shaking jaw. "So the island showed you how hard it was to kill you the first time."
"And it showed me the time you saved me, though it was for Arthur's sake that you did." His smile fell again as she looked at him, "you did a lot for Arthur's sake."
"I don't know why," he said, "he was a clotpole."
"You love him."
"Merlin!"
He froze. He started to turn his head. He brought his hand back to his sword and gripped it to control his shaking. "This island showed you quite a lot," he said, "tell me, did Gwaine really drink more then half of the tavern's ale on Elyan's bet?
"I know why you killed Aithusa," she said with a sad tone. "Magic was beginning to twist, turning into something far darker and uncontrollable. In a thousand years, it would kill itself off, and no magic would be in the world but you, Aithusa, and Avalon. And none would awaken even after Arthur rises."
"You saw him?" he asked with a wavering tone. "When will he wake up?"
Morgana turned her head, as if listening to someone speak. "I cannot tell you. But he will awaken, just not for a long time."
"Can't, or won't?" he asked, then said before she could answer, "what are you going to do after you heal him, I'm curious."
He looked at her, watching her face melt into a mix of emotions. After a moment, she looked at him, "I will watch over him, and heal those who need healing."
He had to grip the slab again to keep from falling over with laughter. "You," he said with a sneer after he caught his breath "a healer? Who would trust you to heal them and not feed them to the wolves, laughing while they scream for mercy?"
She said nothing, but looked away with an expression he couldn't identify. He curled his fingers around something cold. Merlin looked down and saw his hand was over the king's. Something seized his heart as he remembered the last time he held his hand and he quickly let go. The king's hand moved, then was still. He felt a lump lodge in his throat.
"Don't be a girl, Merlin."
He paused, tilting his head. He felt himself smile, "well done, Morgana." He turned to the witch, who stared at him confused. "Well done indeed. Using his voice to try to break me, it's a nice touch from your usual flare."
Morgana's eyes flashed. She slowly brought her hands together, "I've done nothing."
He ignored her words, "the perfect revenge, really. With my mind gone, Gwen will have no protector from your magic...what happened to your brace?"
Morgana rubbed her hand over the burnt scab, "it came off once I came onto the island."
"Of course it did," he mocked. "No matter. Rest easy, I'll have food for your crows soon enough."
He pulled out his sword while she coward and started to back away, her fluttering dress almost tripping her, "Emrys, believe me, I have nothing to do with whatever you're hearing. I swear on my life."
"What reason do I have to believe you?" he asked, holding his sword at his side.
"I know there is no reason, but please Emrys, I mean no harm."
"Merlin."
He closed his eyes, breathing through the lump. He heard the grass crunch beneath her feet and raised his sword, looking at her pale form.
"No blood could be spilt here but the blood of the wounded," she told him.
Merlin stared at her, "you can use your magic now..."
Morgana nodded after a moment.
"Are you waiting for me to completely break before you snap my neck, or until I beg for mercy?"
"Neither, Emrys."
"QUIT CALLING ME THAT!" He felt oddly satisfied at how fast her composer broke. Her hands were in front of her, and her legs seemed to give out from under her. 'How easy it would be,' he thought as he watched the wind move the hair from her neck, 'to cut her throat. One thrust, and the nightmare will finally be over.'
He watched as her lips moved, but no sound came out. He pointed the sword at her neck, then pushed forward. She jerked. They stared at each other, then the sword. It was embedded in the stone behind her. He pulled it out and watched her sink further into the ground. The wind went away.
"No spilt blood?" he asked her.
Her eyes were on the ground, slightly shaking. He walked away from her, putting his sword in his sheath. His eyes locked onto his king again and noticed his displaced hand. He walked over and put it back on the table, holding it for a moment. Merlin looked at him and noticed his tangled hair. He let go of the cold hand and reached over to fix it. No voice spoke to him as he leaned back.
He looked over to Morgana. She was still on the ground, her gaze on him. He moved his eyes from her and looked around. Finding no sign of where someone would worship, he brought his gaze back to Arthur. He moved his hair some more, "bring him back to me."
He turned around and walked away. The water was still frozen even though it was summer. After he was across, he got on his horse and melted it, riding without looking back.
"I'm glad you came, Merlin," Gwen said as they walked. "Your servant only told me that you rode to deal with a personal problem."
"George's here?" he asked. "What am I saying, of course he's here."
"He arrived yesterday. He's in your room, fixing it as we speak," she said with a grin. "I think giving him to you was the best thing I've ever done."
"At least he doesn't make jokes about brass in my presence."
Gwen chuckled. They parted ways and he entered his room. George turned while polishing, "have you been successful?"
Merlin shrugged off his cloak, "to a point. You have any news for me?"
He took off the rest of his clothes, "I am sorry to say, your grace, that Lady Telesa and Lord Edward are died."
"What happened?"
"It was not an assassin,your grace," George said. "Lady Telesa was killed by a poison, and Lord Edward died in a riding accident."
"You said it wasn't an assassin."
"It wasn't, Lord Edward poisoned her wine and Lady Telesa damaged his saddle."
Merlin sank into the warm water, "they killed each other?"
"But don't morn them, your grace." George said. "Lady Telesa was found with love letters to Rome, and Lord Edward was found with papers from a foreign land."
Merlin sighed, "traitors in my own city."
"I'm sorry your grace." Merlin said nothing. "Sir Percival and Galahad left Hamrett after I did and will arrive tonight, if you wish to talk with them again." He hummed, leaning back and letting his servant wash his hair. He felt George lean over and whisper, "do you wish to know Guinevere's heir?"
Merlin nodded. George told him the name, then he went back to washing his hair. Merlin stared ahead, his thoughts quiet. After a moment, he began thinking of ways it could be used for and against him.
* ~ "Now I am become Death, the Destroyer of Worlds." – Bahgavad Gita ~ *
That last quote is about me and you, dear reader...
I lie.
Fun Fact #1 – Got the ideas from Arthurian legends that I was reading for the adaptation I'm writing (mostly for me to make the bunnies go away). So it's a mix of Ambrosius, Myrddin, Morgan, and the two dragons.
Fun Fact #2 – Your Bonesby Of Monsters and Menwas what I was listening to when this idea was being birthed. Also, I listened to an hour and fifteen minutes of Klaypex and Gothika mixed into a playlist while typing.
Fun Fact #3 – "When the sun rises in the West and sets in the East. When the seas go dry and the mountains blow in the wind like leaves. Then he will return, but not before." – Game of Thrones ~ * The quote that started it all! I was rewatching Game of Thrones and that quote got stuck in my head. So, after I watched the last episode of Merlin, I imagine what would happen if Kilgharrah said this to Merlin (did your heart wrench too?) and, after a bowl of ice cream and playing with puppies, really thought about it. And so this tear machine was born! (Actually, if I really wanted to make you cry, I would of made y'all listen to Good Times Gonna Come by Aqualung and type these words in Arthur's death scene:
"It's okay, Arthur. I understand. You can rest now, it's alright. Everything's going to be okay, I promise. You can close your eyes now, it's alright...I'm so sorry I couldn't save you, Arthur...I'll miss you..."
There's that damn dirt again!...Actually, that song would make a good 1 – 5 season tribute. Wish I had the means to make it...)
If anyone wants to write a story where the dragon says that quote, tell me so I can prepare before reading it. And if anyone wants to take this idea and rework it, feel free. I have no qualm with someone taking this fic and making it better. Just give me a shout out and I'm cool.