Pairings: Arthur & Guinevere (duh), Merlin & Freya (again, duh), Merlin & Morgana (just a little), Lancelot & and this one chick called Elaine (they might even have a drooling, crying little shit machine at some point), Lilith (a cool OC) & Keeva (another cool OC… also yes, they are both girls but we need some gayness in this world)
Disclaimer: No, I have never had the ownership of Merlin nor will I ever have. If I did, I'd be on the process of making season 10 or something. The quotes I use will often be something I found from Pinterest, if there is an author I will always make sure to announce it.
Summary: Alternate battle of Camlann, where Morgana and Mordred are beaten without Arthur nor our favourite knights dying. In this particular story, Lancelot and Elyan are alive as well (let's just say that the one who stepped into the veil to stop the Dorocha, instead of Lancelot, was some other noble knight... let's call him Sir Brave.)
Explaining the summary of this story in actuality is difficult, it involves so many features… including Morgana's death and how she and Merlin make peace at the end. He even starts imagining Morgana talking to him sometimes... so slight Mergana. The main element, of course, is the friendship between Arthur and Merlin.
In addition, this story will offer a magic reveal (way more glamorous than the one in the series); the aftermath of this particular reveal (Merlin leaves Arthur's side by his command, but may or may not find a loophole… by becoming invisible of course); a war against a new nemesis called the Blind Witch (her allies include giants, gargoyles and a villageful of people who have tamed griffins and use them as mounts); general Merlin badassery (like that one time when he goes into straight Emrys mode and creates a cool tsunami, or that one time when he holds up a collapsing cave from crushing his friends); exploring the new relationship between Aithusa and Merlin (maybe she will learn to talk?); Mordred's brother (Melehan) seeking vengeance on Emrys; Kilgharrah's death; some quite scary and unique monsters (like this one vampire that instead of blood, likes to feed on magic); some funny stuff that will happen after the knights and Arthur find out about Merlin's magic (like that one time when Merlin transforms himself into a woman, or that time when he turns Arthur into a toad to hide him from some mercenaries); the first female ever to become a knight of Camelot (she is very badass) and some other OC's (like this one mute druid girl)... So basically a very long, ambitious and colourful fic, will include both angst and humour, and I will probably accept suggestions, too. In a nutshell... these are the adventures that could have happened, but never did.
... Or that's the plan, anyway :D Enjoy reading!
"A witch ought never to be frightened
in the darkest forest
because she should be sure in her soul
that the most terrifying thing in the forest
was her."
"FOR THE LOVE OF CAMELOT!"
King Arthur's voice was raw and full of meaning - full of hope. His yell was answered with victory-hungry screams of the his soldiers, as the king lead his men forwards. The pass was filled with the thundering rumbling of the feet of a hundred men. One final lightning flashed across the sky, it's thunder accompanying the steps of Camelot's soldiers.
"Who is that?" asked Guinevere, keeping her eyes fixed on the lonely figure on top of the cliff. The old physician next to her sighed first, but answered:
"He is someone truly remarkable." Gwen could hear that Gaius truly meant his words, and could see the admiration (and affection) in his eyes. "His name is Emrys."
For some reason, the name sent a chill down her back and the skin on her arms rose to goosebumps.
"Do you know him?" she asked. At first, the physician was silent, as if considering how to form his reply. Then he glanced at the queen and said:
"Let's just say he deserves our gratitude."
After that, Gaius turned his back and vanished inside the tent. Before following him, Gwen glanced up at the figure one more time. There was something about that sorcerer - something so ancient, so absolutely powerful that it made Gwen shiver.
Thank you, Emrys. Whoever you are, she thought as the old sorcerer turned around and disappeared from her sight.
Merlin walked at the bottom of the gorge. He could clearly hear the sounds of the battles coming from ahead. The warlock glanced up at the dark sky, squinting. He had sent Aithusa away to safety, but now it seemed like he needed her back.
"Aithusa. Fthengomai au se kalon su katerkheo deuro!"
The voice took power from the earth itself, making Merlin's voice sound louder and hoarser than it really was. He looked back at the sky, to see the small, pale figure speeding towards him.
Aithusa was fast, despite her size, and he knew she could become just as big as strong as Kilgharrah. Merlin couldn't even begin to imagine the horrors that the young dragon must have gone through to make her the sickly creature she was now.
Despite all this, Aithusa was a dragon, and Merlin was a dragonlord. She landed in front of him with a low growl, looking up at him with her deep, sad, pale blue eyes.
"Aithusa", Merlin whispered, slowly landing his hand on the dragon's cheek scales. She pressed against his palm and closed her eyes for a moment.
"Aithusa, I need your help." The dragon opened her eyes and watched as Merlin knelt in front of her. "Look. I know you've been through hell, and I hope that one day you will be able to tell me what made you become so loyal to Morgana", the warlock began. Aithusa didn't answer, just kept staring at him with the same sad look as before.
"I need to face Morgana, but that means I can't protect Arthur. That's why I need you to help him. Protect him, do whatever you need to do to keep him safe. Use all your might. Do not let him fall", Merlin's voice became hoarser towards the end. He sighed and let his brow rest against Aithusa's forehead for a moment.
Go, he whispered, this time sending the message inside his mind. Aithusa let out a small snarl, before spreading out her ragged wings and jumping back into the sky, eyes scouring for the king of Camelot.
Merlin watched her fly, heart clenching with worry. Please, let Arthur be alright.
He knew that Aithusa was Morgana's friend, and the two shared a close bond - but Merlin was a dragonlord, and his soul was a brother to Aithusa's. He was her guardian - or at least he should have been. Merlin made a promise inside his mind that from now on he would be there for Aithusa. He would make the right this wrong.
Arthur could see nothing but bodies all around him - enemies and allies, friends and foes all alike. So many dead. He noticed one of the fallen soldiers of Camelot raising his hand towards the sky. To the king, it looked like a desperate plea for help.
He knelt next to the man, knowing full well that he was beyond saving. Arthur placed his hand on the fallen soldier's shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze.
He could see the life leave his eyes, but at the same moment, he heard something.
There's someone else still alive.
The unmistakable chinking of a chainmail came from behind him. Arthur gulped and grabbed the hilt of his sword, ready to unsheathe it in a second. As the steps stopped, he turned around, standing up to see who his enemy was.
Arthur's heart missed a beat.
Mordred.
During the few seconds that the two shared, staring into each other's eyes, Arthur could see it all. The hurt, the betrayal that the young knight had felt. The pain of losing a loved one. The hatred towards the man he'd once fought for.
Mordred was still just a boy - barely of age, but still one of the most capable swordsmen that he'd ever known. For a moment Arthur remembered the loyal knight, that had bowed his head in front of him, begged for the life of Kara - unmistakably an enemy of Camelot.
Arthur was aware that it would hurt Mordred, but what choice did he have, as a king? The laws applied to everyone; he couldn't put his people in danger by showing mercy to someone who openly confessed to being Camelot's enemy.
And this is where it had led them.
The shock in Mordred's eyes turned into pure hatred, and at the same time, Arthur heard a scream from the sky. The sword in his former ally's hand glimmered as he yanked it towards the king.
Arthur gasped, but when he looked down, he saw the tip of the sword just half an inch away from his stomach.
And it was being held in place in the maw of a white-scaled creature, that the king soon recognised to be Morgana's pet dragon.
Why? Why would it help me?
The realisation hit him almost immediately.
The old sorcerer. Emrys, that's what Morgana had called him. He commanded the dragon away, so surely he was able to command it to do this.
But only dragonlords have the power to do that - and the last dragonlord had died years ago, Arthur remembered. He'd been their final hope in defeating the Great Dragon who had attacked Camelot.
Arthur's tangled thoughts were interrupted, when the small dragon's jaw clenched tighter around the sharp side of the sword, Mordred following with dread in his pale blue eyes. The creature yanked the sword away from him with such force that the boy's wrist snapped loudly, and he let out a sharp yell.
Arthur was frozen still - that dragon was defending him. From Morgana's most trusted ally. The white creature jumped to the side, throwing the sword a good thirty feet away from them. It fell to the ground with a loud clank.
Morgana's dragon crouched towards Mordred, a low growl rising from its throat. Mordred kept staring at the creature in disbelief.
"Aithusa, what are you doing?" he whispered, swaying on his feet. "Why are you-"
Mordred didn't have time to finish his sentence, when the dragon suddenly surged towards him, sending him to the ground with a loud thud. The blood ran off of the king's face when he heard a gurgling scream leave the young man's throat, as the dragon sunk its teeth into his neck.
The ground quickly turned red from Mordred's blood, and the choking sounds made his heart clench with dread.
"Stop", Arthur pleaded, directing his words towards the dragon.
The creature froze, glancing at him over its shoulder. Arthur stared into its deep, intelligent, ice-blue eyes.
"It's okay. You can stop now", the king said slowly, wondering if it understood him.
It seemed to work, because the dragon moved away from Mordred - not too far away, still watching the twitching man's every move.
Arthur knelt beside him, hand instinctively flying on the open, horrifying wound on the dying man's throat. Mordred's eyes were wide open, glazed over and wet, and stared right into Arthur's. The king knew that the man was living his final moments, and that there was still a small chance his enemy could still try and do something, but he didn't care. He shushed the man, trying to stop the blood flow - even though he knew it was pointless.
"It's okay. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Mordred."
There was a small choking sound from his fallen foe, and it almost sounded like a scoff. "No", his voice was hoarse. "You're not."
"Yes I am", Arthur said quietly. "I'm sorry I turned you against me. I'm sorry you saw no other option but to take revenge. I'm sorry you're dying. I'm sorry."
Mordred didn't answer at first, just kept staring the king's face. "I'm sorry too", the man choked a whisper. Arthur felt the man's twitching turn weaker and weaker until it stopped entirely. The blood kept oozing from the druid's wounds, and it had smudged the king's hands.
Mordred was an enemy of Camelot, but in his final moments, Arthur had seen the eyes of the man who used to fight by his side. The king let his head hang, resting his brow against Mordred's unmoving chest.
"Goodbye, Mordred", he murmured, clenching his fist.
He then turned around to look at the white creature, who had followed the exchange with a close eye.
"Did Emrys tell you to help me?" Arthur asked, raising back to his feet. To his surprise, the dragon nodded a few times, looking at him with those intense, sad eyes. The king exhaled.
"He told you to protect me?"
Arthur saw the determination in the creature's eyes - it was enough to answer his question. This dragon would not leave his side until the battle was over. With Mordred's blood dripping from its chin, it reminded him of the bloodhounds back in Camelot.
"Well, then", the king murmured, looking around to see any source of life. The sounds of battle echoed further ahead - it was not yet over.
Where is Morgana?
Merlin had used all the power in his staff - he didn't really have use for it any longer, but it's drained magic felt comforting against his skin as he walked in the midst of the fallen soldiers, scouring for any signs of the sorceress. The last he'd seen her she had fallen from the cliff and ended up unconscious at the bottom of the gorge. He was also oblivious to the current status of the battle - who was winning? Was Arthur still standing? What about the knights - Lancelot, Elyan, Leon, Percival, Gwaine? Merlin didn't know what he'd do if one of them had fallen.
Morgana. Find Morgana.
Merlin knew that the witch was just as eager to face him. She wanted the battle.
The amount of bodies at the bottom of the gorge made him cringe - so much bloodshed. But they had fallen fighting for what they believed in.
The sounds of the battle became louder and louder as he walked further. After several turns, he turned up at a clearing that was bordered by cliffs that reached high up to the sky. Soldiers of Camelot were still standing, battle cries ringing in the air, swords clanking together with Morgana's men.
The witch was nowhere to be seen, but instead, his heart seemed to bump a little louder, because he could see Aithusa in the middle of it all, not letting anyone get close enough to touch Arthur.
Arthur is alive. He is alive, and Aithusa won't let any harm come to him.
Merlin gulped after a warm feeling of temporary joy filled his guts. "Thank you", he sent a thought to the young dragon, who then turned her head around in surprise. The king of Camelot seemed to notice the direction where the creature was looking and followed her gaze.
Merlin sighed, confronting the king's eyes. To his fear, he started approaching him.
What's he going to say?
"Emrys", Arthur greeted. "That is your name, isn't it?
Merlin sniffed looked at Aithusa before answering. "Yes."
"Your dragon seems very keen on keeping me alive. Saved my life more than once already", the king continued.
The warlock smiled wearily and gave a grateful nod to the young dragon, who gurgled at him.
"I'm trying to find Morgana. Do you know where she is?" Merlin asked with a frown, turning his attention back to Arthur. The king sniffed, trying to catch his breath.
"The last I saw her, she was standing on that cliff over there", he stated, pointing towards the opposite side of the rock valley. The warlock squinted - she must have gone to the higher ground.
"She's waiting for me", Merlin murmured. He concentrated his magic, letting it guide him first through the battlefield, then up the cliff, to the steady moors - until it reached Morgana. Her figure was standing in the middle of the empty moors, waiting, watching. He exhaled, letting his eyes turn back to blue. He took a glance at the king and the dragon, before starting to make his way through the battlefield.
"Wait!" Arthur yelled. "Why are you doing this? Why are you helping us?"
Merlin turned around, meeting the king's confused eyes. That's when a very brilliant idea flashed through his mind - this was perfect. He had to control his face not to snicker.
Oh, I'm good.
"Because you asked for it", he croaked, like it was obvious.
Arthur's face turned into confusion. "No, we didn't."
"No?" he snickered. "Well, then you have a servant, who takes initiative."
He watched in satisfaction, as the king's face turned pale. This was the perfect way to ensure an alibi. Merlin then looked at Aithusa.
"If you can, keep an eye on sirs Gwaine, Lancelot, Leon, Elyan and Percival. If they get hurt, I want you to heal them. Can you do that?"
Aithusa listened to his every word, before nodding at him loyally.
"Thank you", he said quietly, before turning around and starting to walk towards the opposite side of the valley. A few soldiers dared to step on his path, but they were soon sent flying to the gutter. Most, however, stayed out of his way.
It took a while until he reached the top - but when he did, he could see Morgana. She waited for him with a cold look in her eyes and a twisted smirk on her face. Merlin flinched when remembering the warm smile she used to have, all those years ago.
He stopped, fifty feet apart from Morgana, and let go of the now-useless staff and let it fall to the ground. It was time.
"Morgana", he smiled wearily at the witch in black, who inhaled deeply.
"Emrys", she greeted coldly. "Or should I say... Merlin."
"I think it's time we settled this once and for all. Enough blood has been shed", he said, watching the woman's reactions closely. Merlin could hear his own heartbeat in his ears and felt the magic rushing in his veins, begging to be released. He was ready for this.
"Why are you dressed like that?" Morgana's teased. "Why not just be yourself?"
"Why, don't you like the beard?"
The witch chuckled as she approached him. This was it. The outcome of this battle would determine the winner of the war.
"No matter. I'm just wondering, how did you get your magic back? I went to great lengths trying to eliminate you as a danger", her tone turned colder.
Merlin smiled weakly before answering. "Wouldn't you like to know."
For a while, the two just looked each other in the eye. Morgana, in all her might - wild, black hair tied back; body covered in black robes; pale, smooth skin like the winter's first snow; beautiful features still visible behind her cold expression. And Merlin was facing her as an old man - just to protect his identity from his friends.
I'm such a coward, he thought to himself. Even on the final battlefield, I have no courage to show my friends who I really am.
His thoughts were stopped when Morgana let out a bone-chilling scream of anger and threw the first jinx towards him. Merlin didn't even have to raise his hands or murmur the words to stop the curse, but he knew that Morgana wouldn't hold back during this fight. She would give it her all.
His magic vibrated inside his veins, throbbing against his skin. Release me, release me, it begged. Merlin didn't even know what was holding him back.
Nothing. Use all you've got. This is it - the final battle.
Merlin dodged another of Morgana's spells. He could see she was losing her patience and saw as she grimaced. Her spiteful eyes flashed golden, and a ball of fire formed between her hands - except it wasn't just fire. It was shining with a black flame (Merlin hadn't even known that it was possible to have black light), but there it was. It was dark, cruel magic, Merlin could feel it towering over him like a shadow. The warlock frowned, not wasting any more time in admiring the witch's power.
He murmured a few words, eyes flashing gold - and his palms ignited with a bright, white fire. Morgana wielded her black magic with a terrifying battle cry, and Merlin raised a wall of fire in front of him, stopping the dark flames before they reached him. For a moment the black and white fire mixed together, swirling in the midst of each other. It took an effort to keep Morgana's darkness from piercing through, and it made his hands shake slightly.
"Why are you on the defence?" Morgana teased, but Merlin could hear the anger behind her voice. "Am I not worthy to see the true power of the mighty Emrys? Am I not?"
She half-heartedly threw the nearest rocks towards him, and Merlin evaporated the stones into dust with a quick wave of his hand.
"Fight back!" she snarled, now furious. Merlin smirked - this was good. Morgana was getting blinded by her fury, and in the end, it would end up being her downfall. She was always so emotional, always felt everything so deeply. Morgana muttered under her breath, eyes glowing golden, and her dark fire retreated - but just for a second. It rose again, higher than before, and to Merlin's horror, it took the form of a giant, fiery snake - ready to swallow everything in its way. The cold flames licked the ground as Morgana's magic threw itself against Merlin's wall of white fire. He knew it wouldn't last, so he pulled it back, muttering the ancient words under his breath to bend his fire into a counter attack.
"She is the darkness to your light, the hatred to your love", he could hear Kilgharrah's voice inside his head, as he squeezed the white fire in his grasp. The monster that Morgana had formed surged towards him, and Merlin had to duck away from its cold flames - but at the same time, he threw his own magic on the terrifying beast. His white fire curled around the dark snake like a rope, choking it, killing it. Morgana's eyes flashed in an angry tone of gold.
Merlin winced as the snake disappeared to nothing, and Morgana's next spell hit him straight to the chest. He felt the dark force swim inside of him, making him bend over and fall to his knees.
He couldn't breathe - his lungs were filling up with something else than air. He started to cough up water - it poured from his mouth like a river. Was she trying to drown him on dry land? Morgana let out a victorious laugh, taking advantage of the situation and throwing a knife towards him - Merlin could see the darkness that swam through the blade like veins, throbbing against the metal like a heart. That would kill anything it touched.
Despite the dark spots that started swimming through his vision and the fact he couldn't mutter a word, just choke up water, he wielded his magic to throw the blade away from its course. His magic would be his only chance of salvation.
The battle was practically over, and Camelot was the last one standing, Arthur realised. After his exchange with Emrys, the small dragon had given him a little more space, flying to help others, too. It had saved Lancelot's life by biting off his opponent's head and somehow managed to heal an arrow wound in Gwaine's back.
Arthur would have rather expected his father to have lifted the ban on magic, than this. Fighting alongside Morgana's dragon, while a sorcerer whose power was rumoured to be more than equal to his sister, went to face her. The king could hear the sounds of lighting and fire from the higher ground, Morgana's chanting and Emrys' deep, bone-chilling voice. He knew that all the others heard it, too. Percival and Leon appeared at his side, looking at him with confusion.
"Is that old sorcerer really fighting Morgana?" Leon asked with a frown. There was a bleeding scrape on his cheek and Percival's nose appeared to be broken, but otherwise they seemed to be in good health.
"Yes", the king stated. "And it's Merlin's doing."
He could see how the knights' brows wrinkled with deepened frowns. "Merlin's?"
"He was the one who sent him here", Arthur stated. "That's why he didn't come with us. He went to see that old sorcerer."
"Well, Merlin obviously succeeded, why isn't he here now?" Gwaine entered the conversation - Arthur wasn't sure how long he'd been there.
"I don't know", the king muttered. He then exhaled deeply and took a glance at the small dragon, whose deep, pale eyes were fixated on the faraway cliff.
"It's okay", Arthur said quietly. "You can go. We're alright."
The dragon glanced at him, then back at the cliff - clearly hesitating.
"The battle is over", Gwaine added. "Go."
The creature let out a small snarl before jumping to its wings. Arthur watched it go, soar through the air - but then frowned in confusion as it arched away from the direction where the two sorcerers were fighting, going back the way they came from.
"Where's it going?" Leon asked, but no one had an answer for him.
Merlin noticed that the people of Camelot (those who were still alive) had started to gather to the edges of the cliff to follow the fight. He was painfully aware that Arthur was one of them.
He can't recognize you, Merlin reminded himself. I hope you close your eyes, he thought as he choked up another mouthful of water. Soon it would get bright.
I need oxygen, or I'll black out.
His legs were shaking, but he slowly raised his gaze back up to Morgana, who was grinning maniacally.
"Not so powerful now, are we, Emrys?"
Ironically, that was the exact moment when Merlin's magic exploded into life. His eyes turned gold and didn't stop glowing - his magic was ripping through his veins like it had been a captive for far too long. Merlin didn't see much from the raging white light that filled his whole being - it was so bright, such raw magic, that it blocked all his senses. He could feel the blood rush in his veins, mixing up with his magic, and flowing through him faster than ever before.
"Beadumægen sylfum sé eormengrund, eorðgráp mé, áfeormian mín bánsele", he chanted, feeling the water dry up inside of him.
He was vaguely aware that Morgana was thrown back with a painful scream. Slowly, his eyes returned to normal. He got his magic back in control, and it throbbed almost painfully inside of him. Merlin could feel his hands shaking, but didn't let Morgana see that.
The witch was on the ground, coughing, trying to take the oxygen back in after it had been knocked back from his body.
Suddenly a screech echoed through the air, and both of the sorcerers turned their attention to the sky, filled with dark clouds.
It was Aithusa. The young dragon's bony figure soared towards them - and she was carrying something.
A sword. Merlin could feel its power vibrating towards him - could it be? A realisation hit him - of course, Morgana would have made a sword of her own, forged in dragon's breath just like Excalibur. Anger flashed through him - Aithusa had done this for Morgana. Why? Why would she use her abilities so carelessly, to aid someone as cruel as her? But these questions had been asked before, and he hadn't been provided with an answer.
His anger turned into surprise, as the dragon dropped the sword right next to him with a loud clank. Merlin carefully picked it up, feeling its power against his skin. Morgana looked at it with dread and shock - of course. Mordred must have been the one who wielded this sword.
Merlin grabbed the hilt, turning the tip towards Morgana, who was stumbling to get up. When their eyes met again, the warlock plunged forward and sunk the sword into her stomach.
The blade went right through. For a moment, Morgana just stared at him, eyes wide open. She attempted to say something, mouth opening and closing, and a small whimper finally escaped her mouth. Merlin felt something burn behind his eyelids as the witch fell to her knees. He pulled the sword out and let it fall to the ground, next to the sorceress. The warlock supported Morgana's neck, not letting her fall.
The looks they exchanged spoke louder than any words.
Hurt. Shock. Sorrow. Acknowledgement - they both knew what this meant. No mortal blade could kill a priestess of the Old Religion - but this was no mortal blade.
Merlin swallowed and turned his head towards Aithusa.
"Come", he whispered. The dragon kept her head down, crawling slowly towards them. Her pale eyes were glazed over with sorrow when she looked at the witch. Morgana's expression was gentle when she reached her hand to stroke Aithusa's cheek.
"It's alright", the priestess whispered weakly. "Be strong, Aithusa. Never give in."
Merlin swallowed again, feeling something burn in his throat. The dragon and the witch looked each other in the eye, an exchange of love - until lowered her gaze and took a few steps back. That's when the others started to slowly approach them.
I'm sorry, but I can't let you come any closer. Merlin inhaled deeply, before slamming his hand on the ground.
"Astýre ús þanonweard!"
His eyes glowed golden, as a powerful wind surrounded them in its embrace - magic howled inside of him, carrying them to safety. Camlann disappeared.
"Where are we?" Morgana's voice was hoarse and weak, and her usually pale face looked sickly grey. She was dying, and they both knew it.
Merlin looked around - it was green, despite the night's darkness. Trees surrounded them, and he could hear an owl somewhere nearby.
"Somewhere nice", he answered, before laying her on the moss bed.
"Why have you brought me here?" she asked with a spiteful cough.
Merlin didn't answer at first - he was thinking of what to say.
"I brought you here because… I wanted you to have peace in your final moments."
Morgana opened her mouth with a grimace, struggling to breathe, her eyes flashing with hatred.
"No, no", Merlin stopped the angry words that would have left her mouth within the next second or so. "Please stop. You're dying, Morgana. I know you hate me, I know you hate Camelot, but none of that matters any longer. Please, just…" he felt the tears burn in his throat stronger than before. "Just don't."
Morgana stared at her for so long, in silence, that Merlin thought she'd already passed away - but then she sniffed, and a single tear fell from her eye, travelling on the arch of her cheek.
"Can I see you?" she asked finally, her voice so weak it was barely even a whisper. Merlin sighed and felt his pocket, pulling out the dark-blue potion that would change his appearance back to normal. He swallowed it in one go and felt as his skin (that looked and felt like old parchment) melted away into the young and pale appearance, and his long, pure-white hair turned short and black. Merlin looked down at the witch, who gave her a weak smile.
"I blame myself, you know", the warlock said quietly - voice considerably less creaky than before - a million emotions running through her. This was Morgana, his arch enemy - but she used to be something else. "You used to have a good heart. There used to be something else than just hatred inside of you."
Morgana struggled to answer. "Before I betrayed anyone, I was betrayed by people like you", her voice trembled with effort, and she swallowed in pain. "And back then, I was so… weak."
"It's not weakness to be kind", Merlin answered. The witch didn't answer anything, just groaned in pain.
"Swilte déaþcwalu", he whispered, letting his eyes flash gold once more, even though his magic was so drained he felt like he could barely stand. Morgana exhaled when the pain seemed to ease. She looked at him again, with sorrowful eyes.
"I'm sorry, Morgana", Merlin started quietly. "When you came to me, wondering if you had magic, I turned my back on you, kept my magic to myself. I should have offered you guidance, I should have been there for you, and maybe Morgause's influence wouldn't have been so effective. Maybe I could have prevented all that's happened since." He didn't bother to wipe away the tear that finally escaped his eye. "I shouldn't have left you alone."
Morgana didn't blink as she looked him in the eye. "I was so alone", she whispered, bottled up hurt and anger pouring from her tone.
"And when Morgause came, you, of course, felt loyalty to the cruelty she wanted to bring upon us", Merlin stated. "She was your sister and she had magic. She understood you. You had no reason to turn her away."
He lifted his eyes that had been staring into nothingness. Morgana swallowed as she spoke:
"I think we both have regrets."
"We fought side by side, once", Merlin added. "I miss those times."
"Me too", the words seemed to escape Morgana's mouth before she had the time to stop them. He watched as her slightly grey lips were coloured with red as she coughed up some blood. He swallowed with effort, slowly laying down next to her. They looked up at the dark-blue sky that was dotted with stars, and stayed quiet for a while.
"Do you remember", started the witch slowly, "when we went to find the Afanc? And we fought it and that torch suddenly blew up?"
Merlin closed his eyes, smiling at the memory. "Yes."
"That was you, wasn't it?"
He turned his head with a smirk. "Yes."
On that moment he could see her again - the woman who had died a long time ago, the woman who used to be his friend. The woman who had ridden to Ealdor to fight for a servant's home village. There is still light in her. Even if these are her last moments, even if the light is just a memory. This is how I want to remember her.
"And when we saved Mordred when he was little", she said, voice growing weaker towards the end.
"We hid him in your chambers", Merlin remembered. "And when Arthur came to search for him, you told him to piss off."
Morgana's smile was real - it wasn't the evil smirk that the warlock had seen so many time in the past few years. It wasn't the twisted grin that invaded her face. It was pure and warm.
"I was always good at that."
Merlin and Morgana turned their eyes back towards the sky. He knew that her time was running out - how long did she have? Hours? Minutes?
"Could you…" the witch started but had to stop to swallow down some blood. "Could you do some magic?"
Merlin didn't answer at first, he just looked at her. Despite all her hunger for power, her cruelty and hatred, all the horrible things she'd done - she was a sorceress, someone who loved magic.
He sighed. God knew he was exhausted; his hands had only just stopped trembling after all the effort that their battle had required. But Morgana was dying, and he couldn't deny this from her.
"You'll be with your sister soon", Merlin murmured as he made a flame appear on his palm.
"Upastige draca", he whispered, and sparks took the form of a tiny dragon. It made a circle around them, the rhythm of its wings calm and slow, before fading out to the wind.
"You'll take care of Aithusa, won't you?" Morgana swallowed hard, not removing her gaze from the night sky.
"I will", Merlin replied hoarsely. "I swear."
"Good."
He could practically feel her life force slowly fading away. Merlin turned his gaze back up before cupping his hands, and whispering:
"Gewyrcan lif."
Morgana frowned while hearing a soft sound of flapping wings. The warlock opened his hands, letting the small, golden-winged butterfly fly to freedom.
The witch stared at it, and Merlin could see the raw emotion on her face. A single teardrop rolled down her cheek. Then she cleared her throat weakly, attempting to lift her hands, but her muscles barely obeyed her orders. Seeing her struggle, Merlin helped her, taking her cold, bony hands into his own and bringing them to her chest. She cupped them, the same way Merlin had done, and although her voice was silent and trembling, she repeated Merlin's words.
"Gewyrcan lif."
Her eyes turned bright golden, and then her face melted into a pure smile, full of happiness and awe when a dark-blue butterfly flapped its wings and rose into the sky.
The golden butterfly started to play in the air with the blue one, they danced in the wind like two care-free souls. The witch squeezed Merlin's hand, as they watched their magic play together.
They stayed like that, her hand in his, until morning came and Morgana died.
That would be the first chapter! So I was always kinda disappointed that there wasn't a proper "final fight" with Merlin and Morgana, he kinda just... stabbed her. But now there's more to it =)
Reviews are appreciated more than you'll ever know, and it would be amazing to hear your thoughts. The next one should be up in a few days. See ya :D