Arthur/Morgana AU fan mix fan fic (part 4): My Heart To Fear
note: last part of this little adventure ;) Though it is quite possible that I'll write something else in this format. I'm working a little on concepts for a modern AU one and a Morgana/Merlin one that I've promised to make :)
01. The Punch Brothers - Dark Days. sister hide our love away from the evil that we both know, it can see us through these dark dark days / though they seem to darken as I go
Ever since she was young, Morgana had dreamed of a world where she would not have to be afraid. When they had been young, Arthur would sometimes tell her that he envied her the bravery she seemed to carry so effortlessly. Back then, she would always laugh at him and say that it was because she wasn't a coward like him, so bravery came easily to her. But that wasn't true. The bravery she had to have was in many ways forced upon her. Morgana could not remember a time when she was given a choice of whether or not to be brave. The only choice she could remember was survival or submission. Choosing the former was not an act of bravery but one of necessity. Bravery could later be attached to the action but really, it was nothing more than a human right. Calling it brave made it somehow seem exceptional. As though submitting to the chains that wanted to bind her was somehow cowardly.
It took many Morgana many years to realise it. It was only recently that she had decided to do the seemingly cowardly thing. She had been tired of fighting. It seemed as though her life was made up of a constant row of struggles that she had to overcome. Life had never been simple. The years had hardened her heart, aged her face and endowed her both with a certain kind of wisdom and a certain kind of ignorance. Wisdom of the perils of life. Ignorance of the strength of youth.
Which was why when she received Mordred's letter, she knew she had made a mistake. The news they carried were dangerous, challenging everything that had remained in place for so long. It was when she received the letter she knew that it had been wrong to subject Mordred to Gwaine's pessimism, that it had been wrong to lie all of these years. That what she had thought had been brave years ago was actually folly.
Her son had taken over Camelot and imprisoned his father. He was now inviting her to live at court as the regent's mother and claim that position in society that had been denied her when Uther hid her away in shame. Her life at Camelot had commenced in flames and knowing the fury she evoked in the people of Camelot, Morgana knew that her life would end the same way as it had begun.
When she finally arrived at Camelot, Mordred embraced her lovingly. "Mother," he said and kissed her on the cheek. It pained her to see her son, whom she loved so much, be so consumed of the cynicism that she had fought so hard to keep from his heart. His eyes that usually sparkled with light and joy were dark and angry. "What do you think? What do you think of our new empire? Are you not proud of me?"
She touched her boy's face, stroking his cheek. What was she? Was she proud? It was hard to know. Instead of speaking, she kissed her boy's forehead, trying to mask her own doubt and instead do what she always tried; to support her child. She had known the harsh, cruel world that remained for unloved children and the last thing she wanted was for her child to end there.
"Can I see Arthur?" She finally asked.
The disappointment in her son's eyes were evident as daylight. His features darkened slightly, and with a face removed of all emotion, he nodded. One of the guards escorted her to the rooms where the former king was held captive. En par with royal custom, Arthur had because of his rank not been banished to the dungeons but Morgana suspected that was where most of his knights were kept. They were after all more likely to fight against Arthur's son than Arthur himself.
When the doors opened, her eyes came to meet her brother. It had been years since she had seen him and even longer since they had properly spoken. Uther's secret had torn them apart. The bond they had shared became tainted and she had over the years tried her best to hide it, to not think about it as though that would make it all disappear. Not that she would ever wish Mordred gone - no, that was not it - what she wanted gone was the feelings that always came back when she saw the man sitting in front of her.
Love was at the end of the day not a complicated emotion but what was complicated was the broken, undefined kind that was refused to live out its promise. Therefore, her emotions towards her brother were both tragic and desperately beautiful. They never had a chance to destroy their feelings on their own, instead that had been done for them. The most miserable animal was, after all, the one with desperate, futile hope.
Upon seeing her, Arthur's face changed. From the ruins of his glory, glowed a warmness that always caught Morgana off guard. Arthur was so much stronger than she was. He could show his emotions, as clear as day, and carry them proudly. She hid hers, denied them until they went away. That was why she could never lie to Arthur. He would never let her. Every time they met, the love would be there, reminding her of its presence. Not to be forgotten. Refusing to be denied.
They were both doomed, in so many ways.
"Morgana," Arthur was partly surprised and partly relieved. He came up to her and wrapped his arms around her tightly, holding her there for a while. His arms felt like blankets, wrapping themselves around her and reminded her of the intimacy they once shared. The thought that it was now gone, when it still lived so vividly in her mind, was painful. To him, she was now his dearly loved sister. Even though that had been what she had wished for, the loss was immense.
How she had once loved him.
How fiercely she lied to herself and said she loved him no more.
"I am sorry," Morgana said at last, "I did not know any of this would happen."
Arthur finally let his arms go and Morgana was left with the ghosts of previous memories haunting her mind. She could still hate Uther for what he had done to them. How he had ruined what they had. Had she known since birth, she would have gained a loving brother. Had Uther's indiscretion never happened, she could have - in another body, in another life - had a devoted lover. Now she had neither.
"It is not your fault," Arthur insisted, the two sitting down to speak as they had not done for years. "I knew eventually, I would have to pay for my sins."
Morgana could not tell if he was speaking of Mordred or something else. Over all, she had a huge problem with the notion of sin. It served no other purpose than to guilt, and from guilt you could never grow. "Mordred is not a sin," she said firmly. He's my son.
Arthur nodded. "I wasn't speaking of him. Merely my own failings as a king. I could have been wiser, shown more compassion."
Politics was never about the compassion of individual men but about respect, and that respect should never be exercised as anything other than unconditionally and systematically to everyone. People could only live on the charity of the powerful for so long. Avalonians suffered much in Camelot and while things had become better, they were not good.
Then as the silence came over them, the pair sat there emerged in the quiet thoughts of themselves. There was so much they wanted to say, but so little they could speak. They remained so for a long time.
"Remember when we were young," Arthur said finally, smiling in his despair, "When I was the promised prince of Camelot? Oh, how the mighty can fall."
"And I was Uther's bastard witch who was destined to destroy the kingdom?" Morgana countered, "Well, I suppose in that respect they were right."
"No, they weren't," Arthur replied softly. His voice was filled with a faith and determination that was coloured by years that would not be forgotten. His hand found hers and for some reason, Morgana let him keep it there. Afraid to meet his eye, she could see the love burning there, after all this time. She supposed it was easy to love a memory. They barely knew each other now. Yet, they knew each other better than anyone.
"I used to love you so much," Arthur confessed, his every word plagued by pain as his eyes became dimmed by budding tears.
"I loved you too." How true and simple it seemed. How I love you still. Now, that was a much more complicated conversation. Did she love him as she once had? He would never be just her brother but was the precious affection they had shared now gone forever?
02. Hayley Westenra - Amazing Grace. amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me / I once was lost but now am found, was blind, but now, I see.
Eventually, the battle begun and the war was lost. Arthur regained his throne but Morgana lost a son. No one else mourned his passing but the two who had the most reason to. Arthur arranged a princely funeral but no one came.
Staring at the stone that had been erected in Mordred's memory years ago, Arthur could tell by her face that for Morgana, the loss was felt anew. He reached for her hand as the two parents stared over their child's grave. They were both old now and it had only been recently that they could reconcile the past. They could now be in each other's presence without the bitterness of the past haunting their every step. Arthur had come to terms with loving her more and learned to see what was, rather than what could be. To him, there would be a woman of her equal but he had arrived at a place where the love he felt for her was a source of strength rather than crippling him to the core. She made him better and in return, he would give her what she always loved most.
Her freedom.
THE END.
