Morgana lay still, barely breathing. Her dreams troubled her far less frequently now, but occasionally one slipped through, and she always knew when one had been prevented manifesting. It was unsurprising that one should have slipped through tonight of all nights, her attack having been foiled, but something about the confrontation in the crypts tickled uncomfortably in the back of her mind. The words Merlin had used. It mattered. Something about them was significant and she couldn't identify exactly what.
"You don't have magic, Merlin. How could you hope to understand?"
"I do understand, believe me. If I had your gifts, I would harness them for good. That's what magic should be for. That's why you were born with these powers."
"You don't know what it's like to be an outsider. To be ashamed of how you were born, to have to hide who you are. Do you think I deserve to be executed because of who I am?"
"No, it doesn't have to be like this. We can find another way."
"There is no other way."
She was right. She knew she was right. There was no other way, Morgause had told her that, shown her that. Her dreams showed her scenes of terrible deaths, Camelot's doom if she let it continue this way.
The words though. He said he understood. Lies. It must be lies, Merlin was a liar? She shivered, of course he was, he had hidden her magic before and lied about her leaving. How did he do that without being discovered? Ashamed of how he was born, that didn't make sense, he was just a simple peasant, nothing special unless she counted being defeated in the crypt, and Morgana refused to ever dwell on defeats. Oh, of course. The boy was bastard born, he wasn't just ashamed, he was a walking mark of shame, perhaps he might just have tasted exclusion, hardly the same thing though. Yet he said magic was for good. Did the servant of Arthur, son of Uther, truly believe magic could be good? She wanted to. Didn't have to be like this? Like what exactly, how could things be different, it didn't make sense. Too many things. She glared at the bracelet around her risk, it protected her, she needed it desperately, but in moments like this she couldn't help but question if it was clouding her mind or preventing dreams she needed to See.
The word that tickled around the edges so terribly was none of these, it was 'We'. The dream she had blocked was one of so very many, that could have shown her exactly the meaning of that tiny two letter word. The one which would have shown her how completely not alone she was, and how honestly he had spoken, for now she curled in on herself a sick feeling that she was missing something important spreading through her and the coldness that so often seemed to surround her now, without Morgause by her side.