A/N: I know nobody is interested in reading this ,so. Crazyjen edited this chapter. So thank you.

You can find me in tumblr under "merganafanfics"

Obligatory disclaimer:Merlin and all associated creative properties belong to BBC. I don't claim any said property as my own, and I make no monetary profit from this fan-made story. All creative property not associated with said channel belong to me, and their use is limited to my express permission. Thank you.

CHAPTER 1: PROLOGUE

The first thing Merlin's tired mind registered once he was fully awake, from what felt like a deep slumber, was that he was laying on a soft mattress.

'Strange.' He thought, for he wasn't used to such things, yet it was oddly comfortable and recognizable. He kept his eyes closed, letting himself be absorbed by the peacefulness he was feeling inside, joined by the sunrays on his face; he hoped he would never have to get up. Merlin felt for the first time in a long time, surprisingly well-rested.

A groan reached his ears and he froze and held his breath.

'Whoa! What was that?' He wondered.

Someone rolled over in the bed beside him, and he felt the arm around his chest - which he hadn't realized was there - tighten its hold slightly. Merlin shivered; his mind stopped functioning for a split second. He raised his eyebrows, his eyes remaining shut.

The bed shifted again and he blinked twice, trying not to make any sudden movements. He started to freak out. Someone was next to him, but who? Since he could feel smooth skin, he came to the conclusion that he was bare-chested.

"Not good, not good," he repeated, over and over again, until he could no longer pronounce the words correctly.

Eventually, his eyes fluttered open, the bright light from the sun hit them and he shielded them with his arm. Moments later, once his eyes grew accustomed to the daylight, he pulled his arm away. The first thing his eyes noticed was the ceiling. He furrowed his brow as he took in the sight above of him.

Somehow, it looked awfully familiar to him. It was not the ceiling from his room in Gaius's house that he had woken up to countless of times. Even though it was different, it gave him an eerie feeling of recognition. He was in one of castle's room. Which one? He had no clue. Another thing to add to the odd list, he noted.

What had he done last night that led him here? There was the possibility that maybe he'd gone to the tavern last night, perhaps Gwaine pressed him to, which could explain the memory lost.

'Wait until I put my hands on you, Gwaine,' He threatened. 'You'll pay for this.'

But after the tavern, did he…? He didn't have the heart to finish that thought. Swallowing the lump that formed in his throat, he growled mentally. Now how would he remedy this? His mind screamed at him for answers.

He took a deep breath in, an attempt to calm himself. His hand reached down the sheets, checking his nether half. Once his fingertips felt the fabric of his trousers, he sighed in relief. He made sure to do so as quietly as possible.

So perhaps nothing happened, he secretly hoped. Perhaps he'd been too drunk and he had offered to walk this woman back to her chamber, and on accident, ended up spending the night. That was more likely to happen. He was quite settled for that poor explanation.

What should he do next? He wondered. Should he leave or wait until the woman woke up?

Still unable to make a decision, Merlin tried to remember if Arthur had given him any extra things to do. But nothing came to him.

Strangely enough, he couldn't remember Gwaine asking for his company. Yesterday he was… everything was a blur, vague.

Yesterday, he had… he couldn't remember. He closed his eyes, trying to focus harder. No, no... He knew where he had been … he...he tried to think of the events of the previous day, anything. But they were hard to summon, everything seemed so far away; so foreign to him.

Why couldn't he remember last night? A thought clicked in his mind, as he came to realize something.

What was the last thing he remembered? Last thing he did, last thing he said. What happened to him? Arthur. Something about Arthur, Morgana, and Mordred; something bad had happened, he could sense it. He must find him, he needed...

Another groan, it abruptly stopped his train of thought, and brought him back to reality. He sighed and tried to focus on the matter in hand.

Tremblingly, he raised his hand, in an attempt to inspect the one upon his chest. It was soft and small in his larger hand. He looked down and absentmindedly, he started to caress the pale skin. Touching the fingers gently, his hand started to move up, following the smooth skin until the arm shivered under his touch.

He pulled his hand fast, as if the skin burned. The feminine hand was still resting on his chest; it was all so strange, and yet, very right. Everything felt as if this was where he was supposed to be.

He shook that thought away and inhaled. Glancing down once again, his eyes started to move from the fingertips of said hand, to her forearm. His heartbeats sped up, with every part of the pale skin his eyes landed on, he gulped. His eyes came to their final destination, he was sure that the only thing that kept him from seeing this mysterious woman's face, was turning his head few degrees to the left. He gathered what courage he possessed, and turned his head and body to the side.

Nothing he had encountered before in his entire life could prepare him for that moment, and the sight his eyes beheld.

His eyes widened and his lips parted, suddenly he felt paralyzed. He closed his eyes briefly, opening them very slowly, as if the person before him were a mirage. Still unable to fully grasp what he was seeing, Merlin leaned closer to her face, inspecting her features, and staring at her peaceful face.

"Morgana…"he whispered, his voice sounding distant and foreign.

He sat up straight, forgetting the fact that he just woke up with her next him. Morgana rested on her side, Merlin watched her chest rise and fall rhythmically.

He looked around him and his head spinning, 'This is impossible.' He suspected that either, he was hallucinating and that he was still under the influence of the mead, or he might have shagged the king's beloved ward. He wished wholeheartedly it would be the former.

All of the sudden, his eyes widened as everything came into focus and his memories came back to him, the war, Arthur, Morgana. He remembered everything: how he failed, how all was lost. He remembered Arthur dying in his arms, he had messed up his destiny; Gwaine was also dead. Everything he existed for was dead, gone because of her.

And yet here she was, alive. He doubted himself, thinking that his mind was playing tricks on him. He needed to make sure. His hand touched her cheek, something was different about her. Of course, everything was different when it came to Morgana, even the way he saw her now. The hatred and bitterness that usually radiated from her, the darkness in her heart that blackened her soul, was gone. Altered, replaced by...

She killed Arthur; he heard a voice inside his head remind him of the reality that for a few seconds he had forgotten.

"I guess I have to stop you, all over again."

His state of astonishment and complete bewilderment didn't last long. Soon shock and surprise turned into anger and despair.

His voice apparently wasn't as quiet as he imagined, for he watched as Morgana's eyelashes started to flutter, indicating she was stirring up. He waited silently, his eyes hard and determined. Her eyelids fluttered open and she squinted. Her eyes seemed disoriented for a second, she groaned again.

"Where am…" She trailed off, her eyes locking with his.

Her reaction, he thought, was way worse than his. Because soon after she opened her eyes and saw his face, her lips parted releasing a deafening, high-pitched scream that caused him to jump out of the bed. She followed suit.

At least, they agreed on something, they despised each other and knew the logical thing to do was to distance themselves.

Merlin covered his ear, "Stop." He ordered, screaming as loud and she. His guard was probably already up, he imagined hers was too now. So many attack-spells flashed through his mind as he prepared for the worst.

Surprisingly, she listened to him and ceased to scream. He was so focused on her face, studying her, waiting for her to strike, but that didn't happened.

Instead, he regarded her as she furrowed her brow. Hesitant, her eyes looked down and his followed.

That was when he got the second- well third shock of the day.

He couldn't even begin to believe the sight before him. She raised both her hands, they were shaking and touched her stomach, or her very huge stomach if he was to be honest.

Her head shot up to him. Her eyes were narrowed, her cheeks red and he couldn't tell for sure if she was angry or astonished.

"What have you done, Emrys?" She barked. Her voice was dripping with venom. Definitely angry, he thought.

He never got a chance to reply, everything that happened from that moment was pretty much a blur for him. Morgana's eyes turned gold, and he felt his body hover over the ground, before he was thrown back violently, his head hitting the wall with a crack.

The last thing he saw before he was absorbed by the darkness the blow caused, was Morgana's lips curving up as she smirked.

The nerve of that woman.

Merlin's body hit the hard floor and she smiled, proud of herself. The smile didn't last, and faded away as she got an eerily feeling in her stomach. Her eyes moved downward, she inhaled.

She tried to get rid of whatever it was clutching her abdomen, all in vain. Breathing heavily she glanced around her. She was back in her old chamber, she was in Camelot.

How did Merlin manage to bring her back? That was a question for another time. She considered her priorities; the main one was to leave that godforsaken place before she got captured.

She felt her belly move, something was inside of her. Her eyes widened and she lifted her nightdress up to her waist. With one hand holding the fabric up, the other started to poke at her belly, trying to figure out what had happened to her. All her hands could feel though was her tight skin from wrapped around her protruding belly. A thought crossed mind; she might have the slightest idea of what could be occurring to her, that could explain completely this bizarre circumstance, yet she knew for certain that it wasn't a possibility and ended up brushing it away, for now at least.

She gasped clasping a hand over her mouth to silence her squeak and her knees grew weaker. She felt like she was going to fall over. She sought something to help keep her on her feet, and found the table. She pressed a hand on her chest; her heart was beating so fast that she feared it might burst through her chest.

With every moment that passed, she grew more desperate than the moment before. She whimpered, feeling defeat and utterly overwhelmed by the whole uncomfortable situation. She went as fast she her feet could carry her and stood before the full length mirror.

Her eyes widened again, her head starting to spin. Tears willed up in her eyes, hands shaking and sweating, she checked her form. She turned to the both sides, searching, looking for something, anything that might explain why she appeared to be…

A shiver ran down her spine as the stopped herself from continuing that thought. Her hands dropped to her sides in exhaustion, shoulders slumping.

She sobbed and moved away from the mirror, uttering "No," while shaking her head in denial.

She knew for a fact what she was seeing in that reflection. She could deny it all she wanted but it wouldn't change what she already realized. She was clearly and unquestionably, without a drop of potential doubt - she, the lady Morgana, highest priestess of the Old Religion, was with child.

She glanced back to Merlin, still on the floor unconscious; her vision hazy, her eyes were clouded over with tears. She wiped away her tears, sniffling.

She didn't have much time to determine what spell or curse Emrys had cast on her. She glanced to the door, hearing an uproar joined by fast approaching footsteps; the knights of Camelot were closing in on her. She wouldn't let them capture her, she wouldn't grant Emrys the pleasure of seeing her apprehended.

Merlin must have done something; she wasn't supposed to be in here. No she was supposed to be… She swallowed. Looking back at Merlin, she knew she should be dead, right? He had driven that sword through her with no remorse and no regret. Unless he'd been lying about the dragon's breath, thus the sword wouldn't have harmed her.

Many ideas, thoughts and possibilities were running through her mind, and she felt lightheaded. She clutched the edge of the table with both hands, and heard the door burst open. Dark figures stormed inside, toward her. Her efforts to focus were fading quickly, as her arms began to give out. She prepared a spell in her mind, waiting for the attack.

This time her legs gave up on her, and she felt her body falling backwards, panting. She waited for the impact, having nothing to do to prevent it. Nevertheless, her body never touched the ground or even came closer to it as a pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist and caught her midair.

"I have you, Morgana. You're alright." She would recognize that voice anywhere; regardless, she lifted her head up to make sure.

"Arthur? How?" She murmured, before she joined Merlin in the land of unconsciousness.

Shall I continue it ? Blame my sister for the length. I wanted to write more.