Warnings: Spoilers for Season 3. Especially episode 3.05.
Disclaimer: Merlin belongs to the BBC and I'm making no profit out of this. Writing this is simply for my own entertainment.
Sometimes
Morgana had these moments – special, scarce moments – when she was alone in her room. She'd sit there, on the edge of her bed at first. Unmoving. Then, she'd get up and walk around the room, looking for something. It never surprised her when she couldn't find it, for she never knew what it was that she was searching for. Her feet would carry her over to her bed again on their own and she'd lay down just to stare up. There was nothing for her to see – but she wanted there to be. She'd think about Gwen – good natured, lovely Gwen – and feel her stomach constrict. Gwen was always so very nice. Gwen wouldn't be if she knew.
Morgana would clutch at herself, arms crossed over her chest and tightly holding onto the flesh beneath her fingers. The inner feeling she had would still never fade.
She'd think about Merlin. Merlin, who had poisoned her. It had been for Camelot. He had seemed so heartbroken himself. She didn't want to think about it, no – she didn't want to understand, even though maybe she already did. It still hurt to know that her life didn't matter. It did. It hurt.
Then, she'd press her nails into her arms, into the flesh, to get away from these thoughts. Not enought to draw blood, but to leave small marks. She'd slowly sit up, look around. Searching. But there was nothing there to ease the want that clawed at her from within. Nor did she know what it was that she wanted.
Arthur, Prince of Camelot. At these special moments, sometimes, she'd see him walk her, Morgana, the girl he'd known for so long, to her death sentence. It's what he would do, most probably, if he ever found out. He was like his – their – father in that regard. So very simple-minded and blind. She would feel her resentment for him because of that every so often.
She would breathe in, and breathe out. Caged. Surrounded by people who didn't understand her in the slightest. Only Morgause did, but she wasn't there. Morgause was planning their future. Morgana would sometimes – not often, and barely to be heard – sob at the thought while holding herself together. Still trying to break out of her restraints at the same time. Their future; she wanted it there, a life in which she was understood and with her sister. The one person she wanted to please more than anyone. She did anything she asked, anything to make her look at Morgana with pride in her eyes.
Sometimes, Morgana would wonder why it felt so wrong.
But she knew, she couldn't have everything she wanted.
"Morgana?"