A/N: It took me a while to update, because the plotline wasn't fully to my liking. From now on, it will differ more and more from the TV show. Don't be surprised in characters show up too soon, compared to the series timeline. After all, Arthur did change a couple of things...

Chapter 10 : new beginnings

In the following weeks, the rift between them seemed to close. They took in the habit of sharing tea or a meal, not every day, but often. Morgana coerced Arthur into telling her about the memories he still had. She laughed to tears about some malicious force that made Uther bald and created havoc in the castle, and the troll who wanted to be queen and enchanted the king. However, she suspected Arthur kept some details to himself about his own misadventures.

Arthur told her about a quest for the Fisher King trident, and about his knights. Pride and fondness shone in his voice as he named Leon, and other men she didn't know, Percival and Gwaine. He even talked about Lancelot.

The mention of the dark hair man and everything related to Gwen always brought a painful fog to his stare so Morgana didn't ask. Curiosity and a tad of jealousy burned the tip of her tongue each time they neared the subject or when she caught Arthur's awkwardness on the rare occasions he had to talk to her maid. Fortunately, Merlin seemed more than happy to serve as a messenger.

Morgana watched the dark courtyard as Gwen arranged her bed, folding a second duvet at the feet of the four poster bed. The nights grew colder quickly now that September had cast its cloak on the realm. Yet, she felt warm, a little too hot, even.

"… since he'd been ill."

Her skin prickled uncomfortably.

"Sorry, you were saying?"

Gwen chuckled.

"Nothing, my lady. Did you have a pleasant diner with Prince Arthur?"

Morgana did her best to swallow an unkind remark about nosiness. Gwen wasn't at fault, well, not fully. Morgana just wished things were different, that she could be the one ma-

"My lady?"

"Yes. Yes, it was nice. I probably had too much wine. I feel too weary to sleep now. Please leave the candle on the nightstand burning. I will read a chapter or two."

"Of course my lady. Sweet dreams."

Morgana forced herself to smile in return for the good night wishes. Her heart jolted as the door locked behind her maid. The tingle on her arms changed into goose bumps. She was feverish, hot from head to toe, so that the floor felt icy through the thin pole of her mules. Reaching the bed exhausted her. Despite what she had told to Gwen, she desperately wanted to close her eyes and sleep. Only she didn't want to be in the dark. Her stomach churned. As much as she wished it was only too strong alcohol on the spicy venison, Morgana knew better.

The dream imprisoned her lungs in an iron net. She tried to breathe and choked. The scene played over and over before her eyes, inescapable. She wanted to scream, to stop Arthur from killing the prisoner kneeling in front of him, but her voice dies in her throat each time. Suddenly, she was flying, a trembling leaf above the plain. The ground was crimson and silver. The flags whipped the air around her, pushing her away from the clash of swords. Her imaginary lungs filled with dread. Fire nagged at Camelot peaceful fields. It engulfed everything, lapping at her ghost. Her warnings melt into moans. "No… No Arthur, don't… No don't… Don't, don't!"

Her murmurs became liquid then her tears exploded in a deafening scream as pain and heat ravaged her very soul.

Morgana shot upright on her bed. Flames devoured the curtains around her. The gush of cold air that hissed through the shattered windows fueled the fire. This time, her scream echoed in the room. Too shaken to move, she stared helplessly at the burning shower cornering her.

"Morgana!"

Uther's voice boomed, followed by heavy poundings on her door. She couldn't look away from the flames. The bangs outside were muffled by the pulse of her own blood in her veins. Morgana rocked hypnotically, her fists clenched on the coverlet.

"Arthur… Arthur… Don't kill him, please don't…"

"Morgana!"

Suddenly, the ghostly forms around her hardened. The blazing fabric was torn away. Water sizzled on the floor as someone drenched the fire. Two masculine figures shielded her from a third, the one she was dying to see.

"Morgana, are you all right?"

Gaius answered the king's question.

"She's in shock, Sire. Here, my dear…"

An astringent smell stung her nose. She shivered, abruptly shaken back to reality.

"I…"

Did they hear her calls for Arthur's mercy? Two pairs of eyes, one demanding, the other concerned, required explanations. One blue stare offered solace above the physician's shoulders. She asked, "What happened?"

Arthur stepped forward. Uther brushed him off, turning away, satisfied to see her coherent at last.

"Sorcery. We've been too lenient, and my ward was attacked. I want this vermin eradicate. Arthur, do I make myself clear?"

Morgana trembled violently. She was the vermin. She had magic. Gaius wrapped a cover around her shoulders with a gentle pat on her arm. Arthur answered, his stare never leaving hers. He would protect her. He had promised…

"Yes father. If I may, Morgana should rest in my chambers for the night. I'll guard her."

"Fine. Fine."

Uninterested with trivial details, the king approached the bed to kiss her cold forehead. Morgana forced herself not to cringe away from him. Oblivious, he exited the room, followed by the guards.

Gaius touched her cheeks.

"Can you walk, dear?"

"No need."

Arthur scooped her up with her covers.

"Merlin! Go fetch some hot tea. Gaius, I'll call you if need be."

The old man knit his brows, but bowed to his prince.

"Yes Sire."

Morgana wriggled in his arms. Arthur adjusted his hold, carrying her toward his quarters.

"Arthur…"

"Shush. We're nearly there."

She understood his warning and nestled against his chest. Cradled by his arms, her heart finally agreed to slow down. He believed in her gift. He would listen. She wasn't alone anymore…

"Do you want that Merlin to change the sheets?"

"No, no it's fine…"

The linens she had pulled to her nose smelled like him. The scent soothed and thrilled her. Morgana blushed and straightened up in the bed. Arthur was watching her like a hawk. She outreached one hand, anxious to fill his. The silent comfort lengthened, only troubled by the light crackling from the chimney. Morgana attempted a tiny smile.

Merlin chose that moment to barge in.

"Tea with a cloud of milk. Gaius said to drink the potion with the tea… Oops, I'm not interrupting, am I?"

Arthur took the tray with his right hand. He used his left to grab his servant by the collar and marched him back to the door.

"Yes, you are. Good night, Merlin."

Morgana chuckled.

"Poor Merlin, he was just trying to be nice…"

"No, he was trying to put his nose where it does not belong."

Arthur discarded Gaius' sleeping draught and brought her cup to the lady in his bed.

"Here."

"Thank you."

She took a tentative sip while he settled at her feet, his back against one poster to face her. Morgana put the tea aside.

"Can you…"

Arthur moved around before she finished her sentence. She rested her head on his chest, reassured to feel his warmth against her skin.

After a moment, he said, "it happened last time, too. I remember about it. Two days later, you disappeared and I found you in the forest in a druid camp. We thought they had kidnapped you…"

Morgana snuggled closer.

"I don't think they had…"

"I don't know. It doesn't matter. Tell me what you saw. If you're ready that is…"

The asking rasped on his tongue. She appreciated the effort Arthur made to overcome his prejudice against magic. He did it for her. The least she could do was answering.

"You killed a man, a prisoner. But he was a powerful king, and it started a war."

Arthur froze. He pushed up to face her, very pale.

"I did, I mean, it happened. I could say I was ill counseled, but in the end, I was the one who…"

Morgana's stare shut him up. She cuddled back into his arms, but this time her warmth did nothing to ease the guilt that bored deep in his bones. He had made so many mistakes…

"When did it happen?"

She asked that so often filling the gaps between the fragments of his memory was almost easy.

"Within the first year I was king, I think … Yes, it was the first winter after my coronation. Three, no, four years from now…"

He trailed off as Morgana closed her eyes. She frowned in concentration. Something felt out of place. A detail, insignificant in appearance, was missing. Arthur stroked the back of her arm, lulling her into sleep. Her mind refused to yield to exhaustion.

"You should rest, now. I'm not king so we have time to-"

"The dragon!"

"What?"

"The dragon on your shield on the battlefield, it wore no crown!"

Only the reigning Pendragon was entitled to paint a crown on his coat-of-arms. His hand clutched her elbow in a painful grip.

"Are you sure?"

Morgana nodded.

"Yes. I saw it. The dragon was uncrowned."

He took a sharp intake of air. It would happen again. However hard he tried, he would repeat the same mistakes, and fail... Fear sunk deep inside him, its chilly grip squeezing his heart until it bled.