A/N - So, I was mightily pissed off by the finale, in particular Morgana's death. After going through so much, I believe she deserved a much better death and I hate how Arthur or Merlindidn't even try to comfort her or bury her :(
Therefore, I have written my own ArMor ending. I hope you enjoy! Please review and let me know your opinions.
Rachel x
Her skirts swished along the ground as she walked through the field of the dead; stepping over the lifeless bodies. The air reeked of burnt flesh and blood. Once, the priestess would have been sickened by the mass of corpses but now she did not bat an eyelid. She had a purpose, one last purpose.
The skies were streaked with red as she moved among them, searching, always searching. Thousands were felled but not Arthur, not her brother. The bond of blood they shared told her he was still alive and so she kept searching.
"No…" she breathed out when she saw him.
Mordred. The last person left in the world to love her. She knelt down next to him, his lifeblood soaking through the black fabric of her dress. Her hand strayed to his neck, praying to the goddess, but his skin was icy cold. He'd been dead for a long time.
"The war is not over, Mordred. Camelot will cry tears of blood. I will not rest until Arthur Pendragon is dead."
Morgana closed his eyes and brushed a hand over his cheek in farewell. He was so young, so naïve. I will make them pay. I will avenge you. She said a quick prayer for the goddess to watch over him before reluctantly rising. She had a destiny to fulfil.
Arthur sensed her before he even turned around. He breathed deeply and rose to face her. This was it. The ultimate battle. Life or death, it would end here. Their last stand.
"Brother."
"Sister."
Morgana stood a few metres from him, head to toe in black. Her ebony hair was pinned up but it was coarse now, no longer emitting a shine. She was the image of brutal beauty; a black rose. The ghost of a smile graced her pale lips before she realised he was looking and replaced it with a cold stare.
"You killed him, didn't you?" she demanded.
"I had no choice, Morgana. YOU gave me no choice," he responded.
"We are fighting for the right to survive. You and your father denied us that for far too long!"
"You've murdered innocent people!"
"And you haven't?"
"Magic is an evil. It killed my mother, my father. It took you from us…"
Her laugh chilled him to the bone. It was so full of bitterness and hatred – all directed at him. He'd loved her once, still did… She was to have been his queen.
"Uther drove me away. He would have had me executed for being who I was! I thought the bloodshed would stop with his last breath. How wrong I was. You are no different, Arthur, and all those years I thought you were."
"You…"
"Oh, come now, brother. Don't look so surprised."
"He was my father… our father..."
"And I was his daughter! Every day he looked me in the eye and never said a word. He abandoned me!"
"He loved you, Morgana. For a year, he never once stopped searching for you."
"Well, maybe I didn't want to be found. Maybe I didn't want to stand and watch while my kind screamed in the flames, knowing that I could be next!"
"I would never have let him…"
"Yet you continue to hunt us, to lock us up, to torture us."
"I would never do that…"
"Do you even know what happened to me, Arthur? Do you even care?"
"You kidnapped my wife and enchanted her to kill me. You plunder our people's villages. You slaughter women and children. They are my people, Morgana, and I swore an oath to protect them!"
"Once, a long time ago, you swore an oath to always protect me…"
Morgana trailed off to silence, tears pricking in the corners of her dull eyes, making them glassy in the light of the rising sun. She seemed to forget who she was facing, her façade crumbling around her. Until she felt his hand on her arm.
"No, you don't have the right to touch me! No-one does!" she screamed at him, jerking her arm backwards.
"What? Morgana, what are you talking about?" asked Arthur, terrified of her reaction. Surely she wasn't scared of him…
"See, you don't even know. You never once thought about what happened to me while you were safe and happy upon your throne, MY throne!"
"Morgana…"
"You think I've had it easy, Arthur. You know nothing! I was kept in the darkness for two years, chained to a wall. All because of my magic! He tortured me! He… he raped me!" Morgana replied, slowly dissolving into hysterics.
"Oh, god…Who was he?"
Arthur wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms and tell her everything would be ok. Like he'd done when they were children. But she kept him away, her sword aimed at him from her distance. He knew better than to risk getting close to her.
"Your ally. Your friend. Does it really matter who? Every night when I close my eyes he's there, taunting me. He told me no-one loves me. And what he said was true. It's all your fault, Arthur, you and your laws!"
"I never meant for this to happen… You're my sister…"
"No! You have no right to call me that!"
Morgana could feel herself slipping. The territory she was entering was dangerous, resurfacing the past. She could not afford to be weak. Not now. Not when she was so close. He's Uther's son. He'll burn you. As soon as you let your guard down he'll send you back to the darkness.
"A long time ago you might have fooled me with your words. But not anymore. I'm a High Priestess. I have the powers of the heavens in my hands. I do not need you."
"How did it come to this, Morgana? You used to be so kind, so compassionate. There once was a time when you would fight tooth and nail against Uther's decisions. Once you would have rather starve than see innocents starve."
"That girl was naïve, stupid. I was blinded by love. But not anymore."
"Love is a strength, Morgana. Our love…"
"Silence! Don't lie to me anymore!"
"Come home to us, sister."
Lies. All lies. Morgana hurled herself at Arthur, the weight of her body behind her sword as she tried so hard to make him be quiet. He saw her coming and brought his own blade up to counteract hers. Momentarily, she was dazed before she struck again and again and again. Each time he blocked her attack, easily.
"I hate you, Arthur Pendragon. I hate you!"
Emotions were a deadly weakness, so very easy to exploit and she was opening up to her enemy. God, why wouldn't he just shut up!
"No you don't, Morgana. You only pretend that you do, to make it easier. Just as I did."
The sorceress's eyes burned gold and her brother was flying through the air, landing heavily on the ground. His sword sailed through the air and settled a few metres out of his grasp. She walked over to him, a smirk on her face, her sword poised to strike just above his heart.
"I never knew you to be a coward," he said, realising that she was too far gone to ever be brought back.
"What on earth are you saying? Words won't save you now," she was prepared to drive the sword into his heart now, her burning desire to free her people returned at one thought of Mordred lying still and cold, dead for his cause.
"If you're going to fight me, Morgana, do it honourably."
"Nothing about Camelot is honourable."
"I challenge you to a fight to the death, Morgana!"
"As you wish, dear brother. It matters not."
Strike. Parry. Strike. Parry. The two Pendragons circled each other as the silver flashed in a deadly arc over and over again. While Arthur may have been a knight, Morgana was a High Priestess and had been taught the dance as well as any man, perhaps better. The ring of steel echoed but there was no-one left to hear it.
Evenly matched, they spun and slashed, but Morgana was weaker. Her battle with Emrys had left her wounded and even though it could never be fatal, her strength had been drained all the same. Breathing deeply, she continued to fight with all her might, her movements ever so slowly becoming sloppier. This could all have been over with the use of her gift, but Morgana had agreed to a fair fight, and she would not break their deal.
As her back connected with the ground, she was snapped out of her state of mind. All her instincts told her to blast her attacker backwards, but when she felt the point of the sword on her chest, she held back the incantations. If she was going to die, she would not die having cheated.
"Morgana," Arthur said her name, softly.
"I know you won't kill me. You do not have the courage."
"I will, Morgana. I will to protect my kingdom."
"I'm not going anywhere," she laughed, bitterly.
"It doesn't have to be this way. Don't make me hurt you."
"There is no other way. Kill me and be done with it. Or hand me the sword and I will end your life. Only one of us leaves today."
"I'm giving you a chance! Why won't you take it?"
"I'd rather drown in my own blood than submit to you!"
"Then I have no choice."
"Love is weakness, Arthur. If you live to see another day, remember that."
With that, Morgana pushed the sword away from her and rolled to her feet before he could blink. She had no sword, it was too far away. But she sure as hell wasn't going down without a fight.
"That is why you shall never win, Morgana."
Arthur's sword pierced her skin with ease and she felt a searing agony spread through her veins, so much worse than any other blade she'd ever encountered. This was no mortal one. The dragon fire paralysed her magic and she felt ever second of it, her very being ebbing away. Morgana gasped in shock and pain, gripping onto Arthur's shoulder with the last of her strength.
"I'm sorry, Morgana. I'm so sorry," he said, as he caught her and lowered her to the ground.
"You… you stabbed me," she responded, her voice catching.
"I gave you a chance, sister. Why could you not take them?"
"Because as long as we both live, war will forever plague the realm."
"It should never have ended this way."
One solitary tear, escaped from her eye and rolled down her cheek, removing the grime to reveal snow white skin hidden for so long beneath. She could feel the life drain from her and her hand slid to Arthur's leg. Soon she would be reunited with her sister and Mordred, in the goddess's arms as she guarded the gateway to Avalon.
"I'm... sorry… for… for… Uther," she said, weakly.
"I forgive you," he replied, sincere.
Arthur took her hand in his and stroked it. More tears fell from her eyes and his joined them, mingling on her skin. She was scared. He could tell. Her hand shook ever-so-slightly and he could see her biting the inside of her lip.
"It'll be ok," he whispered to her.
"One last thing, Arthur," she said, her voice quieter as she lost strength "Allow… magic… back… please…"
"I swear to you, Morgana , your death shall not be in vain."
"Thank you, broth..."
As her eyes fluttered closed, Arthur let out a heart-wrenching sob, bending down and kissing her forehead, tenderly. Her chest stilled and he knew she was gone.
With as much care as possible, he lifted her feather light body into his arms and carried her away from the carnage. Her blood ran over his fingers but he failed to register it. The horse he found was small but it would serve well enough. Gently, he draped her body over it and took the reins, beginning the long walk back to his kingdom, their kingdom.
"Rest in peace, sister," he whispered as he placed a white rose on the ground.
Slowly, he rose from the gravesite and made his way down the grassy slope. She was buried next to her father in all but blood, where she would have wanted to be. He only hoped her tortured soul would finally find peace.
Meanwhile, he had a promise to fulfil until he could be with her again.
"Thank you," her voice drifted on the wind.
Arthur was unsure if it was his imagination or Morgana from beyond the grave…