So I watched The Tears of Uther Pendragon Part 2 today and I have to say that it was better than part one, although Morgana's facial expressions are more hilarious than sinister. I think I saw that glimmer of hesitation down in the crypt, but who knows? Anyway, a fic that started to form in my head after I watched the episode and started to listen to Raining in Paradise by Tamar Kaprelian, which is what you should be listening to as you read this.
Obviously AU from what the rest of Series 3 will turn out as. :] Enjoy~
The night Merlin died was the day of Morgana's final betrayal. It was the day that King Uther Pendragon had finally grown old. It was the day he finally grew gravely ill with no hope of recovery. Morgana had wept at the news, but the tears were fake. Three hours later she had walked all the way to the cave of her sister and given her the news. "We have waited long enough," Morgana told her recalling the conversation that she had with her sister nearly two years ago. Their plan with Cendred had failed and Morgana urged Morgause to dispose Merlin immediately and to strike fear into the castle.
Morgause's response had been, "Just a little longer."
The night that Merlin died was the day that the young warlock had recovered from a grave illness. All throughout his high fever he'd murmured nonsense like "it's coming" or "have to warn them…" That morning he'd woken up with the most terrible headache, despite the fact that his fever had disappeared. As we went about his duties for the first half of the evening, he couldn't help but think that something bad was going to happen. His magic tingled at the tips of his finger tips while he walked past the throne room. His head seared when he passed Morgana in the halls.
So when he heard of Uther's condition he knew it would only have to wait just a little longer.
The night that Merlin died had been a terrifying one. The Knights of Camelot held against the onslaught of Cendred's forces while Arthur and Merlin had rode out having been informed, through a crafty plan by Merlin, that Morgause was the cause. Uther, lying on his deathbed, had ordered the death of the sorceress. Their second order was to bring Morgana back alive. The court all believed that she'd been kidnapped again after the ward failed to return home the night before.
The clearing was the same, with the trees surrounding the patch of grass and the small ledges of stone that had eroded over the years. It was the place Morgause had left Merlin to die. It was the place where she'd demanded why the mere servant boy so vehemently protected Arthur, even going to such great lengths. It was the place where Merlin was stung by the serket. It was where he'd refused to reveal his magic.
And now it was the place of Morgana's final betrayal. In all honesty, she had only expected Merlin to be there. After all, he was always the nuisance. She didn't expect Arthur's blade to clash against her. Both were equally surprised. "What are you waiting for?" Morgause cried, coming out of the trees.
Arthur, distracted for the moment at Morgana's apparent alliance with Morgause, received a well rounded kick in the stomach as he flew back. The wind rushed against his hair as he fell down onto the rocky ground. There was no way Morgana had kicked him hard enough to send him back flying like that. The only explanation could be…
But he didn't have time to think about that as his impact rendered him unconscious. Merlin took Arthur's sword and raised it at Morgana, having no clue on what to do. He could duel her but she'd eventually overcome him. After all, she'd been trained. The extent of Merlin's training were Arthur's sparring sessions. As metal sparked against metal and as Merlin was quickly forced back towards Arthur's limp body, Morgause drew her dagger. The servant's heart skipped a beat and the proximity to Arthur caused him to leap in front of the small blade hurling towards the prince.
Morgana screamed. Her sword clattered to the ground as her hands tried to suppress her shock. Morgause remained passive as she pulled the dagger out of a mortally wounded Merlin and dug it into the prince's side, trailing it down and leaving a nasty gash.
Morgana couldn't speak. This wasn't supposed to happen. They were just supposed to overcome them not kill the two. Tears started to spill from her eyes as her sister gently made her way up to her. The sobs would not stop until she saw Merlin reach for Arthur and try to pull himself upright. Morgause smirked at Merlin's determination. The dagger had plunged deep into his chest, narrowly missing his heart. The fact that he was still alive was a feat in itself.
But what happened next would haunt the two sorceresses for life. Merlin, who'd somehow managed to kneel, stripped away the clothes from Arthur's wound. The blood flowed endlessly, just like it did from his heart. The moment Merlin hovered both hands from Arthur's wound, Morgause knew. She didn't need the soundless utter of words from Merlin's mouth. She didn't need the faint afterglow nor did she need to see the gash stitch itself up. She just knew, the moment he sat there, back to her.
Morgana on the other hand, couldn't believe it and she stood more petrified then ever as she watched Merlin collapse to the forest floor –drained of energy, drained of life. She watched as a confused Arthur sat up and saw Merlin. She wished she didn't have to hear the crying and resisted as Morgause tried to lead her away.
Arthur sat there, rocking back and forth with Merlin's limp body in his arms. It was like he hoped his tears would bring his servant, his friend, back. "Why do you cry for him?" Morgause asked. "He is just your servant."
"Why does Morgana cry for him?" Arthur retorted. "She's just his enemy."
Morgause relented. "You knew."
"For the longest time," Arthur whispered, still cradling Merlin. "I was just waiting for when he would tell me."
A small silence lapsed and the prince drew his rather long dagger from his belt. Morgause froze. "You wouldn't," she challenged.
The blade fell to the ground. "No," Arthur replied. "I never would. My father is dying and both you know that. That's the only reason for the attack. And tomorrow morning, the illness would've set in by order of Uther Pendragon to the court physician to give him something that would end his pain. And the new age would come, with the decree that magic used for good would be allowed…" His last words phased into the night's breeze
Morgana understood. Uther felt it was time for Arthur to take the throne and lead Camelot. He wanted his son to live on, and he wanted his suffering to end. And although she still hated Uther with her life, she a saw a new light in the pair on the forest floor. You would say it was quite literally, because her gift. She remembered the day she'd first returned to Camelot and the events that had followed. It was their first attack on the citadel and Merlin had found her in the crypt with the Rowan Staff. He'd tried to reason with her and beg her to stop but Morgana, with all her tenacity and stubbornness, had lashed at him. She'd told him that he didn't understand and he had replied with non-committal "I understand." He told her that if he had magic, he would use it for good but Morgana had taken the words as pity and part of his plan to try to win her back. She'd taken the look in his eyes as fake and all an act.
Now she knew better.
And she knew what could have happened; she'd seen it in her dreams.
"Leave," Arthur ordered. "Go. Now. And never return to Camelot. By order of the new king, you are banished forever."
Morgana tried to reach out. "Arthur…"
"Go!" he shouted as Morgause muttered a few choice words and they disappeared in a small whirlwind. On the floor of their cave, Morgana broke down as her sister tried to comfort her as she'd done many nights before. The ward shrugged her off, wanting to be alone tonight. "If we… If we waited…" Morgana sobbed over and over again. "If we waited…"
The night Merlin died, a king –who would risk his life for that of a lowly servant, who would do anything to save a commoner, a king of true valor and honor- sat on the floor of a damp and dark forest and whispered, "Just a little longer… and this would have never happened."
Just a little longer,
and weak would not have to cry.
Just a little longer,
and the innocents would not have to die.
Just a little longer,
and the world would've have sung.
Just a little longer,
and the death would have been none.