Title: In the Face of Death Itself
Author: kate-7h
Rating: T
Characters: Merlin, Arthur, Morgana, and the epic knight troop. No slash, M/M if you squint
Summery: Merlin is kidnapped by Morgana and it doesn't quite go according to plan for both of them. Meanwhile, Arthur's very angry for misplacing his manservant.
WARNINGS: Violence/gore, character death
Disclaimer: Characters in these personalities belong to BBC
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It had happened so fast. One moment, Merlin and Arthur were riding back from the forest on a small hunting trip when the next a blast threw them from their horses and onto the ground, sinking in the mud. The wind was chilled with the light raindrops that fell against Merlin's skin. It took seconds for him to realize that nothing had physically hit him, leaving the perhaps more sinister option.
Merlin slowly raised his face upward to see a figure striding towards them. The were draped in black against the darkening woods. Merlin felt a pressure on his back, as if someone were standing on him, keeping him stuck in the mud. Arthur was groggily rising, seemingly not having this invisible difficultly. Merlin watched as a stream of red slid down his temple, evidence of head trauma. The stranger stopped when they stood in front of the men, head down beneath the overhanging hood. With pale hands the stranger lifted their hood from their face. Merlin met the familiar face with a glare.
"Why so hostile, Merlin?" she sweetly asked, her voice dripping with contempt.
"Morgana," Merlin watched her carefully, predicting where she would strike first.
Arthur shook in his anger, "Morgana, what're you doing in Camelot?"
She smirked, "My reasons are my own, brother dear. But don't worry, I have no business with Camelot at the moment. I'm here for Merlin." When she said his name, Merlin could hear the hatred. He froze, hairs on his neck standing up.
Arthur stood, clumsily drawing his sword and positioning himself between Merlin and Morgana, "You'll have to go through me."
"So be it," she swept her hand and Arthur went flying to the ground. Arthur struggled to get up immediately as gripped Merlin by the scarf. Between not wanting Arthur to see his magic and the invisible weight that kept him on his stomach, Merlin could only glance at Arthur and hear his shout as Merlin and Morgana disappeared in darkness.
After a brief moment a little cottage came into view. Morgana pulled Merlin inside, believing she was in complete control, never knowing the Merlin simply allowed himself to be dragged behind her. Without pressing force keeping him down, Merlin could have easily escaped her. But his curiosity got the better of him. Curiosity it was but it stilled made hi anxious. What would she want with him? Unless -unless she had finally found what she was looking for. Dread settled in his stomach as she shoved him into a chair in front of a burning fireplace.
"What's this about, Morgana?" he asked, eyes narrow.
"Well well well. Poor, pitiful Merlin, hiding behind an his own fear. You may have forgotten who you are but I've finally figured it out. I know who you are!" She spat in his face.
Merlin smiled without humor, "Yes, we've known each other for years, Morgana," His calm voice brought back memories that had once been tender to Morgana, but instead of joy she felt loathing for the man who sat before her.
"No, you never let anyone know, do you? I bet not even your precious prince knows. You've been keeping your little secret so long now. Tell me, how can you feel nothing while your own kind suffers? How your own kind burns for the sin of being born and you stand by with the torch in your hand." Her voice was low and deceptively calm.
Merlin trembled, but not in fear as she thought and a smirk appeared on her lips. She knew, Morgana knew he had magic. After all the years he had known her she finally knew. A couple years ago it would've been a relief, having a dear friend to share his secret with. When times had been good, before she had betrayed her family and friends out of hatred and spite.
Merlin stood, shaking his head almost incoherently. She couldn't know, this ruined everything. How was he supposed to protect Camelot if she now knew the reason many of her plans failed? How was he supposed to protect Arthur? As he worried over the people he defended he never once thought of the person in danger at that moment as Morgana plucked a dagger from a table. Merlin stood in alarm.
"You have magic, Merlin. I don't know how you've hid it for so long, being the bumbling idiot that you are. But I suppose that's part of the façade, through it you hide like a cowardly swine!" her voice cracked, breaking through her calm.
"I'm not afraid of showing who I am," Merlin threw back in a heated voice.
"Yes you are," Morgana's calm was breaking, her voice shift in pitches. "You were too afraid to help me when I so desperately needed someone to understand! You refused to help me! Instead you just poisoned me, because I was too difficult to deal with -,"
"No, that's not what happened!"
"You're even too scared to tell Arthur! Your friend. I suppose you don't hold friends close, do you? Well I do. If they haven't betrayed me," she had begun pacing, stroking the knife tenderly. "I keep in contact with the Druid boy, he talked about you, how you betrayed him as well. I suppose you have a knack for that. Then he said something strange, that you, Merlin, were his kin. He told me that you had magic, but he also called you by a different name," her fingers stroking the blade grew tense, unconsciously slicing them. Morgana never took her cold eyes from Merlin's, even as her blood slowly dripped down the side of the knife.
Merlin shook with anger, "What's it to you?"
"Everything!" Morgana shrieked, stabbing the table with her knife. "My destiny, she said. Emrys will be my destiny and-," she stopped herself, looking glaring wildly at Merlin.
"And what, Morgana?" he kept his voice low, piercing.
"It doesn't matter," she jerked the knife from the table. "It won't ever matter again." She threw the knife the short distance between them.
Her strike should've kill him but with merely a word and the flash of his eyes it stopped mid-air in front of his hand. She shrieked in rage and threw herself at him, clasping her hands around his neck. Merlin felt her squeeze hard, cutting off his air supply. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think. His hand reached up trying to pry her hands from his throat. His other hand desperately grouped the floor for some kind of weapon. Black spots began to appear in his vision, his breath shortened as she leaned her weight onto his windpipe.
A sharp thrust, a gasp, and her grip loosened. Her body was rigid and weak as she rested her head against his chest. Merlin lay there breathing heavily, regaining control of his abused throat. Morgana's gasps were not unlike his own as they breathed in pained unison. Merlin lifted his head to see Morgana, her shaking frame draped against him. Merlin felt the warm liquid seeping into his tunic as he gently rolled her off of him. Protruding from her side was the same knife she had tried to kill Merlin with, the knife that had left his hand only moments ago. He lifted her into his arms, trying to calm her frightened gasps.
"Why... must you... hold your... victims?" She asked, blood dripping from her lips.
Merlin's eyes filled with tears as he held her, remembering the woman he used to know, who had been his friend. Years ago he was in this exact position, forced to kill this same woman. He had poisoned her, her face filled with fear and betrayal. In her face now as he held her was that same fear, but loathing had replaced betrayal. But he held her as if there wasn't a single change. He shook his head in sadness, "Only you," he whispered, his voice shaking.
"The Callieach was...right," she inhaled sharply, her breaths coming shorter. "You would be my doom."
Merlin shook his head again, no longer able to see through moisture falling freely, "I'm so sorry - so sorry, Morgana," his hands shook against her.
She laughed, a grotesque, gasping sound, "I don't... believe you. And I - I'll never...forgive you." She let out a sigh and her body went limp. Her open eyes staring into nothing.
Unable to restrain himself, Merlin buried his face against her hair, weeping bitterly. He couldn't have done this, he couldn't have. She didn't have to die. A logical voice in his head told him that it was self defense - She was trying to kill you! He shook his head, repressing the voice of reason. This was his fault. There were so many times he could've taught her the right way to use her magic, to do good deeds. He could've helped her when she felt so alone, so abandoned, as he did so many times. They could've both protected Arthur and led him to the throne and Camelot to a new horizon. This was his fault. It would never be forgiven, and it would never be forgotten.