Sometimes, for reasons unknown, the universe likes to hand us building blocks that we just can't find a way to fit into our empires, no matter how badly we want them to belong in our blueprints. ~Elly Belle
Some nights, when he lies on his back clutching his pillow, staring up at the ceiling, he likes to imagine a higher power. He likes to believe there is an unseen hand orchestrating the events around him, guiding him, so that years from now he will not look back at this time in his life and believe it was all in vain. Years from now, he will be able to step back and make sense of what he has crafted; years from now, he will know that all those bridges he burned were so he could erect a kingdom in their place, rebuild a crumbling castle, protect the people.
Most nights, he isn't sure what the universe has in mind for him. He is waving a sword blindly and hacking at his demons and hoping—praying—that it is for some greater good. It is all part of some master plan that will make sense, eventually. Everyone has a destiny, a path, he reminds himself, and this is his. Certain things fall apart so that others may fall into place, and everyone that has ever left his life has had a reason for leaving.
Uther's path withered away a while ago, and Morgana—god, Morgana—he doesn't know when Morgana's path branched off from his. They walked the same road for so long, and then suddenly she veered off and rounded the bend and he never saw it coming—and this is the most important part, he tells himself, late at night and hurting with sorrow—he couldn't have made her stay if he tried. Everyone has a destiny, he reminds himself. And in the end, hers didn't lie with his.
But if it didn't, he thinks, why is there an unfilled space left behind by her absence? If they were never meant to build this thing together, why is there a hole in his chest? He has tried everything he can to patch it up, but the spot does not belong to Merlin or Gwen. There is only one brick he knows that belongs in this empty space in the wall, and if he could just close the gap he knows he'd be okay. But the one brick that belongs there is too rough around the edges now to fit cleanly; she will never fit in the same way again. Part of his foundation is missing, crumbling, and still he must continue to build this kingdom.
Maybe, he thinks, the universe messes up sometimes too. Maybe the original plan had a spot for her, and maybe the universe forgot to scratch it out when it wrote a new one, so that the only way it could erase Morgana from Arthur's story was violently, snatching her from his grip.
And then he closes his eyes and wipes that thought away, because it is terribly frightening to think of a universe that doesn't know what it's doing. Because all he wants is to know that everything he has done has been preordained, working towards some greater goal, because otherwise he's just sad, lost, and missing a piece of himself.