It was the most cunning scheme Morgana had ever schemed.
The best part was, of course, that it didn't require lying to him. She had looked into his eyes inches from her own, so close she could pull him into a much too early kiss, and told him that she needed him to stay with her tonight because he calmed her wild magic; because he kept her safe. And it was entirely true, it just wasn't the whole reason she wanted him in her bed. While he kept her safe from the nightmares and the fires, he also grew more and more used to being intimate with her, even if just in this way. She didn't have to break down the walls lining his heart; she would simply sleep against them with her own wide open, and wait for him to let them down of his own volition.
What she hadn't counted on, should have counted on, was just how attached she would get to the feel of his body around hers. For long hours she would fake sleep just to catalog every sinewy curve of his perfect body, to feel each beat of the magical tide lapping against her unconsciously, like the sea crashing against the shore. The way their arms fit around each others backs, how their legs entwined chaotically, that perfect crook in his neck that fit her face just right and the feel of his own buried in her hair and taking in her scent with each breath. They were made for each other, even on the most basic level. And when he was gone, when she had to sleep alone and practice magic without his loving presence beside her, his absence was like death by degrees.
"I'm home, my love."
Morgana released her hold on him only to cup that beloved face, all filthy and stubbly and bruised and so intensely striking, and felt herself come back to life.
"So am I, my love." She said tearfully, nearly exploding with warmth at his joyous smile when she finally admitted it.
And then he collapsed against her with a groan and blood was seeping into her hands through bandaged wounds on his back, the echo of his entire body screaming in agony resonating through their connection, and she remembered where they were.
"M-Merlin!" She said in horror as she struggled to keep his dead weight upright; her love mumbled incoherently against her shoulder, like he had countless times just before falling asleep… this time, it wasn't so cute.
The other prisoners, shady and ill groomed, were leering at her in a way that made her skin crawl, some actually beginning to move forward. She clutched Merlin tighter and stumbled back fearfully; how many could she fight off on her own, even with magic, before they… before they-
CLANG!
Every face in the dungeon jumped nearly ten feet at the sword banging against the wall, and the fearsome knight that wielded it. Warningly he lowered its tip to the ground where he stood between her and them, dragging sparks across the stone as he drew a proverbial line in the sand they knew not to cross. She almost smirked in satisfaction as the vile group almost trampled each other in their haste to get back to their side of the dungeon.
"Is he alright?" And then the knight was rushing over fearfully, and while Morgana knew he had just saved them and looked very familiar for some reason, she saw his weapon and couldn't stop her paranoia taking over.
"Forbaern yfel!" She hollered, seeing him jump back just before he walked into the circle of fire that erupted around of him. Every voice in the prison screamed and while she thought that it may not have been smart to reveal her secret to a room full of strangers, at least they wouldn't go near them now. The man in question stared at her with wide brown eyes on the other side of the fire, before to her surprise they melted into an understanding look.
"Ah, now I get it." He said with an appraising smile.
Morgana frowned at him in confusion, and almost would have asked what the stranger meant if it weren't for needing every inch of herself concentrating on keeping the fire ring burning. She felt sweat break out on her grimy forehead as her feet gave out and she collapsed against the back wall, holding him in her lap protectively. The fire flickered momentarily and she knew she didn't have long, wasn't accustomed to perpetual magic of this nature yet, would lose it and they would die- he would die-
"Mrgna…" The mumble and a weak hand caressing her face brought her back to Earth, to him. She looked down worriedly at him, peeking out carefully beneath the faded bandages sitting on an angle on his head. He drew in a breath and laughed shakily from cracked lips. "It's Lancelot, Morgana."
Lancelot? Morgana shot up to look at the knight in question, still standing respectfully where the fire had been before she had broken her focus, and peered at him. His hair was shorter and the beginnings of a beard cloaked his boyish face, but it was him, the peasant knight who had sent the court into such a tizzy. One of the too few in the world who knew and protected Merlin's secret.
"M-my apologies, good knight." Morgana felt herself deflate in both embarrassment and relief.
"Quite alright." Lancelot replied good-naturedly, gesturing with his blade to the terrified crowd huddled in the very far corner. "Keeps them in line better than a sword and a glare, I'll give you that. Now, be gentle with him."
Morgana returned her attention back to her love, returning his loving smile and caressing his cheek with a feather-light touch. Lancelot dropped to his haunches before them, sharing her concern, and she found herself choking on gratitude that they didn't have to go through this alone.
"Oh, what did they do to you?" She whispered brokenly down at him. Merlin opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out so he just closed it again disappointedly. Lancelot answered in his stead.
"We believe he may have a concussion, several torn muscles, and some cracked bones from the fall he took." He said grievously, wincing at Morgana's horrified- and undignified- squeak. From the clinical tone he was probably parroting Merlin's diagnosis; impromptu medical training at its finest. "And he's been fighting nearly non-stop for the last three days… but they've been in staged fights with me, so that he would never be in any actual danger."
Morgana shook her head mournfully, because she had vowed to finally stop crying and stay together for his sake, but his head was now rolling around on his neck sightlessly. Guttural sounds briefly exited his mouth like a wounded animal- like a dying animal- before she couldn't take it anymore. She shut him up with an impulsive kiss, working life and magic into him as she moved her lips against his longingly. When she pulled apart she was gratified to see him semi-coherent and quiet, and if the situation were less dire she would feel very smug at the thoroughly snogged look he wore.
"What aren't you telling me, Sir Lancelot?" She began quietly, after a moment in which she again watched Merlin fall unconscious from his injuries. The knight in question started at her usage of his lost title, which as far as she was concerned he had just earned back in full, before throwing an apologetic look at Merlin's sleeping face.
"…They whipped him, my lady."
…
Even as exhausted as she was, she couldn't stop her raw furious magic from ramming a spider-web of cracks into the stone behind her.
"THEY DID WHAT?"
###
It was the most obvious trap Merlin had ever walked into.
The worst part was, of course, that he had a very hard time not wanting to walk into the trap. It was clear that she wanted him, physically at least, a fact which he really wanted to rub in the face of every girl who had ever mocked his ears. And plainly, sleeping beside her gave her the comfort and safety that she was desperate for, the late night conversations about her guilt and insecurities that she sometimes started just so that he could confirm again his absolute faith in her. Morgana wasn't exactly lacking in confidence in her beauty, but it still made her happy to have it confirmed every so often that she was desired, when they woke up entangled a little too close and his body, ah, reacted. At least, judging by the very pleased looks she would throw at him the rest of day…
There were so many reasons that she would want to wake up to him, none of which involved love; so many different ways for Merlin to excuse the light in her eyes when she looked at him, the possessiveness and tenderness in her caress. He fought as hard as he could, railed against what she was doing to him, because if he actually indulged in the impossible idea of waking up to her for the rest of his life, it would end up crushing him. And he had held to that up until the day she taught him to let go of his fear and know that she loved him; wonderfully, impossibly. And he had regretted that fiercely when she taught him that he was right all along, and hated how easy it was all of sudden to find reasons that she did love him.
"…How convinced are you that your plan will work?"
"Well, it's better than you and Merlin's fake rivalry 'plan'."
"W-well I thought it was a great plan…"
"Are you kidding me? It's the worst plan he's ever come up with!"
It had been three days since he had last woken up to Morgana, opening his eyes to see her bantering worriedly with Lancelot above him to distract her from her obvious anxiety, and it felt like learning to breathe again.
"I think Dragoon the Great might have been worse." Merlin rasped teasingly, making her jump in surprise and look down wide-eyed at him in her lap. He smilingly met her tearful gaze, feeling the immense relief at his awakening thrum through her magic, and lifted a hand to play with the dirty silken scarf around her neck.
"You do love me." He drawled smugly, in her head for privacy's sake, eliciting a surprised laugh from her.
"Of course I do." Morgana whispered back into his own mind, her face falling into a devastated expression he never wanted to see on her again. "Merlin, I am so sorry, I never meant those awful things I said. I don't know how you can forgive me-"
"Shush, dear." He cut her off playfully, drew some strength from the roots beneath the ground to slip a hand behind her long neck, and drag her down into a hard kiss. He felt her surprise at him taking the initiative like this for first time, before she melted against him and returned it, lowering all remaining walls between them. Together they gently kneaded away all the exhaustion, pain, worry, and loss they had inflicted; until all that was left was a steady promise to each other burning brightly at the heart of the magic they shared.
"Erm, not to break this up, but…"
Merlin laughed dryly at the abject frustration pulsing from Morgana towards Lancelot's timid interruption, a sideways glance showing him struggling between amused and scandalized. Merlin gave his lady- because that's what she was- one last loving nip before she carefully helped him into a sitting position against the wall beside her. He stretched and rolled his magic inside of himself experimentally, feeling his open wounds knitting together and his fatigue fading, all thanks to the chain reaction she always had on his magic. An almost bashful glance from her showed a similar rejuvenation, giving him the wild urge to laugh at the shyness only he could draw from her.
"My head feels… great." Merlin exclaimed, fumbling with his head wrap in an attempt to get it off. "Er, what happened?"
Morgana blushed adorably beside him, while Lancelot just gestured towards her.
"She cast some sort of spell, said it would heal skull fractures."
Merlin grinned, bumping shoulders with her impishly. "I have a lot to thank you for then, don't I?" He felt his face fall, as a thought occurred to him and at the reticent look she was trying to hide. "I don't remember anything like that in the spell book…"
"We-we can catch up later!" Morgana proclaimed nervously, trying to get the conversation back on track. "Right now, our focus should be on getting you out of here. Luckily, my plan has already begun…"
"Wait, what plan?" Merlin spared a look at Lancelot, who just grimaced nervously.
And that was when a chorus of screams exploded from above the dungeons.
"Ah, that would be our distraction!" Morgana said cheerfully, the effect of which was offset by her evil grin.
###
With a loud clang, the iron doors of the dungeon fell off their hinges, revealing two pairs of glowing eyes and outstretched hands, the other pair linked between them. Morgana drew her broadsword alongside Merlin and Lancelot as they walked over the downed door and headed for the now unguarded entrance.
Oh, how she had missed this. Her and Merlin, side by side once more, their magic mixing together into a force stronger than either of them alone, their hands fitting perfectly together. This was how she knew she would spend the rest of her life with this man.
"You broke the lock on the cage keeping the giant rats from getting into the castle?" Merlin said again, looking half horrified, half impressed with her. She nodded and threw out an arm to stop Lancelot from stepping into the next corridor, as a massive rodent chased a bandit through the doors.
"I realized we would need a decent cover for our escape, and I found out that the castle was built over a wilddeoren nest, so…" She trailed off as she peeked her head around the next corner cautiously, his hand still in her vice grip. If she could help it, she was never letting go of it again.
"And how did you find that out?" Lancelot asked as he parried the clumsy blow from a guard bursting from the side-doors. It was all the opening Morgana needed to sweep past his defenses and decapitate him before he got anywhere near Merlin, channeling into the swing all her fury at each mark they had put on him.
"Well, that's how I came in." She finished casually, taking Merlin's hands again cheerfully and ignoring his shocked look at the blood draping her front. Said look quickly melted into a infuriated one as they continued on through the chaos.
"Wait, you came in through the man-eating rats nest?" Came the wince-inducing shout at her side, as she dully registered Lancelot getting into another scuffle behind them while she and Merlin began another of those couple-y fights she enjoyed so much. "You- you could have been eaten, Morgana!"
She just flashed him that particular roguish smile she had learned set his blood on fire, and sure enough felt his anger and concern reaching a fever pitch. (Lancelot was busy kicking a man off the end of his sword and throwing a stolen axe at another.)
"Oh, Gods, you really need to learn to stay out of trouble, don't you?" He muttered half-jokingly, earning a mock scornful look from her while their companion jogged to catch up.
"S-sorry, what are we talking about?" Lancelot huffed as he slowed to a power walk beside them, ineffectually trying to wipe off the blood on his chainmail. Morgana thought he would be much happier if he just wore it proudly the way she does. (And it helps discourage potential attackers, too.)
"Morgana's lack of concern for her own wellbeing." Her love said petulantly. (She was proved right when a bandit rounded the corner, slid his eyes down to her gore splattered armor, and promptly ran the opposite direction.)
"Says the walking punching bag!" The lady shot back, but the coyness in her voice fell when he stumbled. Instantly she was at his side, feeling the many welts under the stained bandages made from his shirt, not to mention the long lashes down his back.
"Merlin…?" Lancelot asked when it became clear that she could no longer voice her overwhelming concern for him, but he just shook his head with forced good nature.
"Tis only a flesh wound." He quipped with that annoying little chuckle when he had made a bad joke no one else understood. (How in love she must be to have missed his most aggravating qualities…) He ran a shaking hand up her spine in a soft gesture, quelling her anxiety and rage in an instant, before limping onwards.
("PRISON BREAK!" Shouted an outraged guard towards his compatriots as he pointed at them, and looking crestfallen as the rest of his group just kept running from the charging beasts.)
Morgana stared after him for a moment, at the long marks beginning to bleed through the covers on his back. How could anyone hurt this gentle man, how could anyone torture him? Didn't they know who they were dealing with, how devastating his vengeance would be were he a lesser man? If he hadn't just smiled and brunt it, the way he brunt being treated as a slave and a second-class citizen, this whole castle would be so much ash.
("Swefe nu." Merlin incanted casually without breaking stride, sending the aforementioned guard- preparing to attack alone- falling stiffly into a deep sleep.)
But he never would, and while she adored his dark side, that was why she truly loved him. Because unlike her, when he was struck he didn't strike back just to even the score. Even though, sometimes, she wished he would just use that sublime power to crush monsters like Hengist before they could harm him. If only he would think of himself for once…
But then, I guess that's why he has me. Morgana vowed. I suppose I'll have to avenge him myself.
With a last regretful look at her love nonchalantly throwing a wilddeoren across the room like a ragdoll, she slipped away.
###
It hadn't taken long to find him, held up in the formerly grand throne room which was now in disrepair. Morgana had already performed a draining but comprehensive scrying of everyone and everything in the castle before the rescue, so it wasn't hard to assume where the obviously egotistical man would make his last stand. She had had so many shallow suitors like him, led around by their basic instincts, before Merlin showed her what love truly meant.
"I can read your every move, Hengist." She whispered into his mind threateningly.
Hengist gave a rather girlish yelp as she knocked the throne room doors off their hinges with the flung corpse of a wilddeoren, taking a page from her lover's book. He ducked- Surprisingly nimble- under the creature as it sailed over his head and broke off the top of the lustrous seat.
"Wh-who are ya?" He snarled as he staggered to his feet and brandished a hefty axe nearly the size of her entire body. "I-I haven't done anything to offend your kind!"
Morgana laughed derisively, sauntering through the doorway with her bloodied sword dragging carelessly on the floor. She could feel the odd little tingle that signified her eyes shining, felt the air crackle with invisible power around her, and in his fearful gaze knew for the first time that she was powerful and terrifying.
So this is what the dragon was talking about…
Her silence must have spooked him more than anything else, because suddenly he was lunging at her with the massive weapon. Morgana felt herself slow time the way Merlin did, grasping shades of his magic inside of her just long enough to give her time to duck under the wild swing and move in to skewer the foul man. He was nimble, though, for such a large man, dancing out of the way and managing to bash her with his elbow while he passed.
Morgana snarled and swirled towards him, drawing blood from his oversized belly before harshly kicking the wound she had just inflicted as he went for another strike. The barbarian grunted in pain and stumbled back from her, but she pressed the advantage and threw her blade with a mystical force. She couldn't stop her grin at Hengist's scream as her sword ran through his left shoulder and embedded itself into the table, pinning him there. He moaned pitifully, bent over so that he was half-laying where the sword jutted out of him and the wood.
"The bigger they are, the harder… well, you know how it goes." She taunted mercilessly as she approached.
"B-bitch!" Hengist threw a clumsy attempt at a one handed swing her way, looking pitifully slow even without affecting the flow of time.
"Astrice!" She shouted with a hard point at the axe in question, laughing at his whimper as an invisible force shattered the giant blade like glass. Shrapnel flew everywhere, some embedding themselves into him, but all knowing to steer clear of her. She moseyed to the other side of table, idly playing with a pointier shard.
"You know, I've been a bit frustrated since I began practicing magic." Hengist made to grab her with his good arm when she leaned over her side to look him in the eyes, prompting her to stab the shard through his forearm and into the table for good measure. (I really shouldn't love that sound he made so much…) "Can you believe it's only been about a month and a half since I started?"
Hengist just glared up at her, trying to turn his fear into anger, gritting his teeth to keep from screaming.
"What's frustrating is that no matter how much I learn, I can't seem to do much with it." Morgana pouted theatrically. "Why, just a few mornings ago I only just lit my first fire! But I've realized, these past few days, what the key to spellcasting is. Would you like to know?"
Hengist remained deathly silent, a pool of blood now leaking out from under him. She tilted her head into that look- Merlin's "beautiful and dangerous" look- which after a moment got him to nod fearfully.
"It's love, Hengist." She laughed brightly as his handlebar mustache twitched in confusion. (And pain, presumably.) "Magic feeds off emotion, and there's nothing stronger than love. That's why I can hurt you so easily now… and that's why he's so powerful."
Morgana caressed the side of his red face mockingly, smiling as he tried to hide a flinch.
"He loves the whole world, harder than anyone alive, and that makes him unstoppable." She turned the touch into a hard grasp. "But he also hides from his hatred, too, doesn't want to hurt anyone. So he lets people run all over him- torture him- without paying them back. Well, today I'm giving you your dues; so all I want to know is… did you whip the man you call Arthur Pendragon?"
Considering the circumstances, she really should have been prepared for him to spat in her eye.
"You're damn right I did, you filthy little witch, and he squealed like a pig!" The savage laughed harshly, and she finally realized that it was possible to hate someone more than Uther or the Great Dragon. "And I'd have had him eaten alive if I'd known he wasn't the damn prince, and I would've enjoyed watching it!"
"Bastard!" She snarled, in an irrational rage, and turned for a split second to grab a ceremonial mace off the wall-
Which was all the distraction he needed.
Morgana screamed as her own broadsword plunged into her side. Hengist, surprisingly nimble as she had foolishly forgotten, had torn his entire body off the embedded blades, pulled out her sword, and skewered her with it in one smooth motion. An ugly laugh slipped out of his hairy mouth from behind her as she collapsed against him involuntarily.
"Those 'er some nice tricks, but I haven't lived this long in the wild without bein' resilient." He snarled, bloodied hands trailing all over her and no- no, this couldn't happen. "Heh, you're quite beautiful under all this…"
She bucked against him uselessly, crying out in agony as the movement jostled the sword still buried in her. With a shout he pulled it out of her and threw her to the ground, looming over her dangerously.
"C-cume her fyb-byrne!" She stumbled between painful gasps, but the line of fire traveling across the ground to immolate him fizzled and died along with her concentration. Agony was lacing threw her, her magic sparking uncontrollably inside her as she fought past the pain to find her center, to find her Merlin, but he was on top of her now and she couldn't fight and-
This can't be happening! She screamed as fat fingers batted away the feeble fires she started and tried to tear off her chainmail, as rough lips moved greedily towards her, and then-
All air was sucked out of the room, and the temperature dropped in an instant like early winter. A terrible gaze centered on them, and Hengist slowly pulled away from her at the sheer ancient rage filling the room. They met each other's eyes, for this one instant no longer attacker and victim but two equally tiny ants standing before a storm; as one they turned their heads towards the door.
Merlin stood in the fading light of day, the abject horror on his face at what this monster was trying to do to her quickly melting into an icy wrath she had never seen before. An unnatural wind began to ruffle his hair, and wide eyes were completely engulfed by a golden glow.
"You should not have touched her." He whispered menacingly, tilting his head at Hengist like a snake surveying a mouse. In this instance… he looked like God himself.
And then he swung his arm and Hengist and the entire castle wall was sent exploding out into the sky. The terrible man's scream echoed amongst the rubble as he was flung up into the clouds with all the force of a catapult. Morgana's terrified eyes followed the little black dot in the distance as it dropped to its death miles away.
Just like that, it was over.
"Morgana!" The loving voice was almost breaking with panic as Merlin rushed to her side, embracing her carefully to mind both their injuries. She returned it instinctually, her mind unable to process the alien being that had just thrown someone across the forest with the gentle man worriedly looking her over, asking if he had done anything to her.
"N-no, you stopped him…" Morgana heard herself say blankly, trying not to wince as Merlin looked suddenly ashamed at her tone, as if just remembering what he had done. His eyes lingered on the open sky that was formerly hidden by a whole wall, before he was brought back to her when she cried out.
"Oh, no…" He mumbled, noticing the deep wound in her side for the first time.
"T-tis only a flesh wound." She offered feebly, feeling pride at the weak smile she drew from him. Because this was her Merlin, she realized, terrible power and stupid jokes all, and she would be foolish to be afraid of him. Carefully long-fingers splayed over her open wound and eyes glowed that beautiful gold; she sucked in a breath as a riptide of magic pulsed from him to her, knitting together broken flesh and muscle with each passing second.
Merlin breathed out tiredly when he was done, smiling proudly at the unmarked skin of her stomach where once there had been a grievous injury. Morgana returned it, cradling his exhausted face between her hands and capturing cracked lips with her own. She felt the lingering horror at what he had just done while he was trying to bury it, and gently caught his guilt with a soothing caress.
"I'm not scared, Merlin." She spoke lovingly into him. "I only love you more."
Merlin broke the kiss with another of those heartbreaking feeble smiles, a thousand 'thank yous' and 'I'm sorrys' in the hand ghosting over her cheek. She knew they would need to talk, about what happened, about what almost happened, but for the time being…
"Can we go home now?" She bit out petulantly. Merlin's smile turned genuine and they staggered to their feet to go find Lancelot.
###
A very dark climax to an very angsty arc. -_-
Another strange chapter; I wanted to mesh the joy of the reunion with the sense that these two have been very battered, physically and emotionally, in the last few days. It then segued into Morgana exploring her new creed of using her dark side to protect Merlin, and then segued again into a short demonstration of Merlin's dark side protecting Morgana. The line Merlin walks between sweetest guy in the universe and merciless killer is a really interesting one, something canon doesn't delve into much aside from the way he killed Nimueh. There's a very scary guy lurking under that smile, waiting to come out when the people he love are in imminent danger. Just like there's a very scary woman smirking beneath Morgana, just waiting for the next person who thinks they can screw with her family. There's a fascinating parallel between the worse parts of themselves which I think is kind of weirdly beautiful. Somehow, the 2x04 arc ended up being about the lengths one will go to for the person they love, which is funny because I just set out to have Mergana separated for a bit so that they could get some perspective from Lancelot/Kilgarrah on themselves and each other. Didn't think it would get this... epic. O_o
The good news is, the angst is over! We can only go up from here. (Theoretically.) I hope you'll all stick around to see our couple climb out of the dark, together. ^_^
Next Time: The Talk. With a capital 'T'. The time has finally come...