Morgana's Bane
Characters: Morgana, Merlin, Mordred
Summary: Morgana's perspective on Merlin being abandoned at the end of 5x2, the second part of Arthur's Bane.
Length: 935 words
Rating: T for safety
Author's Note: Hey guys! I hope you like this one - Morgana has always been one of my favorite characters. It's interesting, I think, to see her later in the series, how she becomes so ruthless and yet, this is the same girl who stood and argued for the lives of sorcerers. The things she went through changed her, her losses and her struggles. Yet there's still that same core in her, the younger Morgana who protected Mordred at personal risk. I wanted to put that on the board, the connection between who she is, who she was, and what she becomes.
Let me know what you think!
He is your destiny, and he is your doom.
Mordred was gone.
Of all the things that could have happened, this betrayal hadn't even been considered. Morgana cared for the boy when no one else would, when he was wounded and sick and unloved. Now he's a stranger, a coward who would stab her in the back to save a king who would burn him at a single word of his magic. How could he do this? Not a speck of remorse shone in his face, just duty and coldness, freezing her insides as metal slid into her soul.
Mordred left Morgana there to die. He draped the king over his shoulders with a gentleness yet urgency that somehow didn't manage to contradict. Then the Druid did the most peculiar thing - he turned, not to glance at Morgana, but at the cave wall opposite. Ah. Merlin. Does he feel the gaze? she wonders. Does Merlin feel the burn of hatred and the chill of disinterest? Does he fear it?
Merlin is crumpled, inside and out, his body broken and his mind weakened with pain, yet he does not show fear. Merlin's face holds the strangest expression of resignation as he watches Mordred leave him behind. Many a man has died angry, betrayed, cursing at those too weak to save them. Merlin was never one of those men. Even as his body finally succumbs to the pain, he shows bravery and strength, and unrelenting stupidity.
Morgana stumbles to her feet, grasping at her bloodied stomach. She feels the heat of life burning against her forearm, and waters pool in icy green eyes. "Aithusa," she whimpers, knowing her companion will hear and heed. The white dragon peered curiously around the cave wall and, upon seeing her mistress, rushed to her aid. Morgana's skin knitted together easily, her organs repaired in no less than a simple puff from the dragon. However, Aithusa could not return Morgana's energy and blood, which left the witch dizzy and weak as a newborn bird.
Morgana once again contemplated the fallen figure of her former friend. This time, he was at her mercy. Merlin betrayed her, tried to poison her without regret. That's not quite true, a part of her argued, the part of her that still resided in Camelot, the king's beloved ward with the kind heart and fierce temper. Merlin was distraught as you struggled for breath, cradling you in his arms and sobbing. He was in just as much pain as she, Morgana realized numbly. But he did not save her, would not save her without Morgause's command to stop the battle.
It was either Morgana or Arthur, and everyone knew that Merlin would choose Arthur over all others.
It was pitiful, the extent of the man's loyalty. Merlin put all of his power and his faith in this man, this weak, unkind man who treated Merlin like a bug resting atop his shoe. Morgana knew Arthur did truly care for the servant, though he never showed it. He was too afraid to show his concern for the boy, hiding his care behind an air of arrogance and annoyance. Arthur did not deserve Merlin's support. Yet somehow, he was the one who had all of it.
Now, looking at the unconscious man, Morgana knew she had his life in her hands. How simple it would be to reach out, wrap her hands around his neck and watch, watch as the life and twinkle that always sparked his eye just distinguished. How often Morgana imagined this moment! How often she thought of the serving boy out of her hair once and for all, just a single word and his life would be gone, never to return again. Her hand twitched, inching toward his exposed neck.
And then stopped.
Morgana had seen death before, more times than she could have imagined. From Uther's executions, to battle losses, to men, women, children she herself has killed. She was in no way too gentle-hearted to stop one of her most-despised enemies' heart, and she knew this very well.
Yet when Morgana looked upon Merlin, she could not bring herself to move. She saw him alone, abandoned by his closest friends in the hands of his enemies, blindly faithful to the wrong man. She saw how he was so lonely, floating and scared and so, so alone. In Merlin, Morgana saw herself. Morgana's hand moved back to her dragon of its own accord.
"You fool," Morgana whispered, to whom she didn't know. "You blinded fool."
And Morgana turned on her heels and stormed away, the sea inside her eyes rolling but never overflowing.