Memories sometimes cross over her mind like shooting stars, a flash of painful recollection before fading. Other times it settles over her like an unexpected cloud with seemingly nothing triggering it. The memory would arrive and her body harbours the sensation of it. Pounding heart, skin prickling, and breath caught in the throat. Angrily she would push it away, tell herself to get a grip, that time is over but it's never over. She is haunted by the ghosts of her sufferings.

She sits with her fingers pressed to her temples, elbows resting on the table. Directly below is an untouched plate of food and water. Merlin had slipped it to her, whispering for her to eat but her mind is working tirelessly and she has no appetite. He sits at the end of the table, watching her silently. She stares at a sprig of rosemary on the plate until it blurs in her vision.

"I went to Amata because I dreamed he had a weapon that would prove deadly to those with magic. I dreamed of fields of dead leaves and druids choking on those leaves…I saw lights going out like stars," as she says this Merlin stirs.

"The map of lights. I never had the time to destroy it," he admits with disappointment.

"I suppose it makes no difference now," she sighs, looks up at him through her curtain of hair before staring at the plate again.

"I had not been with Aithusa for long, she was still small enough to carry," she smiles weakly at the memory of the dragon huddled on her lap. "I had failed to conquer Camelot and I was angry, so disappointed…but the dreams wouldn't stop and I went to the coast instead, to Amata. I planned to destroy whatever Sarrum was doing, kill him and take control of the port," she sits up, shaking her head with an odd smile. "After that was done I would have gone back to Ismere, where I stored a few artefacts. The place is said to house an object of great power and knowledge, but I never found anything…"

"What happened?"

"They knew I was coming. I still don't know how but they were expecting me. Aithusa was captured but I managed to flee. I thought they would sell her, one of the last dragons alive would fetch a king's ransom but they didn't. I didn't know what was happening and I should have left but I couldn't. She had saved my life, she had chosen me and I couldn't leave her," she pauses here, looking out of the window at the trees swaying beyond. Since retrieving the cup the land beyond has become lush and trilling with birdsong.

"They used her as bait," Merlin says and she nods, meeting his eyes.

"I was captured and I thought I would be executed but Sarrum offered me a deal instead. Have you noticed that he doesn't hate magic in the way that Uther did? He sees it as an illness, like a parasite that has made some innocent person it's host. He sees it that way because he had a son, his only heir and he had magic."

Merlin frowns, leaning forward. "I thought Sarrum was childless?"

"Many thought so and that's what he wanted people to believe. He kept the boy out of sight, the public being told that he had died as an infant. He was around seven when I met him and his magic was…" she shakes her head, breath blowing out of her mouth. "He had no control over his power, it would burst out of him when he got overly excited, angry or sad. He was a sweet boy but…he was more like a toddler, in his mind."

"So the boy was kept prisoner?"

"No, not really. He had his own little estate, with a nurse and his very own governess. I think you can guess who that was."

"The sister," Merlin replies bitterly.

"Sarrum didn't hate his son because he had magic, he felt pity. He saw something that forced his son into isolation, with no friends and no chance at a normal life. He should be king by rights when Sarrum died but it was impossible. The sister, who was originally a healer before she abandoned the goddess, said that she could help him. The boy was given the weed, a very low dose and gradually his magic was weakened…but then his health declined."

Morgana stops speaking, hesitating to voice her part in the sad tale. The boy was why she and Aithusa were forced into the oubliette, why Sarrum had taken a plant only cultivated for one lonely boy and produce it for the masses. His death was not her fault but it might as well have been.

"Aithusa was a gift for his son, a unique pet for one special little boy. He had no idea the dragon was really being held to ransom. Sarrum wanted me to cure his son of his illness, an illness that only seemed to appear after taking Witch's Fear. I thought the boy was allergic to it and I'm still certain of that but Sarrum would not listen. The sister had turned his mind so completely by then that whatever I said was coming out of a witch's mouth."

"But he still wanted your help," Merlin shakes his head at the hypocrisy. "They'll rant and rave how awful magic is but they sing a different tune when they really need it."

Morgana nods, letting this go unsaid. "I tried to reason with them, to see that they were poisoning him but the sister said his weakness was the boy's soul fighting the magic within, because the magic didn't want to go," she rolls her eyes, her belly turning over in anger at the memory.

"Was – was the sister knowingly poisoning the child?"

Morgana opens her mouth and closes it. She has thought this over many, many times and each conclusion is different. "Sometimes I think she did but I can't understand why, what would be the motive for it? What would she get out of it?"

"Some people need no motive. Some people are just…broken," he taps his head.

"I suppose…I tried to save him but nothing I did seemed to help. The boy…" Morgana smiles gently. "He grew sad and bored, he told me in a whisper once that he missed being able to light candles to make shadows on the wall with his hands," she says, tears in her eyes. "I knew if he died then I would have a fight on my hands, I knew Sarrum would not let me go easily. So I took him."

"Where?"

"I was going to take him to Avalon and the healers there. After that I thought he could live with the druids, live in the open air with people who would care for him…" she looks down at her plate again, her reflection distorted in the silver. "He – he died before we could reach anyone…"

"Sarrum blamed you?"

"Yes and he would have killed me but the sister talked him down. So he let me live…but only just."

Merlin tilts his head, eyes swimming with sadness. "I'm so sorry. You tried to help, you tried to do the right thing."

Morgana gazes at him intensely. "I would have cut Sarrum's throat, placed that boy on the throne like my puppet," her eyes burn before they lose all heat. "That's what I told myself in the dark, over and over but it was just the ramblings of desperation. There was no boy anymore, there was no throne. It was just me, Aithusa and the walls."

They sit in a heavy silence for a long time before Merlin speaks. "…Your magic, it's not tainted," he begins gently and she looks at him for a long time before staring at her hands.

"The power of belief is a terrible thing Merlin. I thought I was impenetrable, I thought nothing could get through me. I started to picture the confining walls inside my head, lining my skin. They could hurt me, they could swear and curse but nothing would really sink in to do any damage."

"Morgana…"

Merlin leans forward in concern and she realises she's crying. "I thought I was strong but even the smallest hole can weaken the foundation. I – I couldn't take it some nights, I would become delirious and scream for my mother, for my father but mostly for Arthur…but no one came. I have never felt such lonely misery…so when I was taken to the sister's room, a room full of sunshine and plants, it felt like being born again. She treated me gently, she gave me clothes to wear and fresh fruit to eat, she washed my skin and brushed my hair…"

Merlin nods, a thoughtful look on his face and she asks what. "I – well, that sounds like Gwen."

"It does and I would tell her about Gwen, about Camelot and my old life. This was towards the end, it was not like that at first," she adds, as if Merlin finds it deplorable. He nods in understanding and moves to sit closer.

"I have no trouble picturing the fight you gave them."

Morgana smiles briefly before it drops. "Do you have any idea how good it is to just talk to someone? To look at another face? Sometimes I wouldn't see anyone for months…" her face goes slack at the memory, remembering the cloth they would put over her head as she walked around the yard before lowering her back down into the oubliette. Sarrum had ordered no one to talk to her.

"She showed you kindness."

"I didn't want to feel gratitude or that elevated sense of excitement when they took me to her but I couldn't help it. Sometimes I had to stop myself crying I was so relieved. She made me feel like a person again but after some time that changed…" she frowns, plucking at a grape on the plate but not eating it. The light outside is growing dark, the sun setting.

"What happened?"

"She started to tell me about her beliefs, about her values. She told me that she was like me once, lost and using magic for ill purposes. She said it was late in her life when she saw the mistake she had been making with her life and how she could make up for it. She said she did not hate me, she wanted to help me, save me before it was too late. She said I was innocent, that none of what I had done was my fault. Magic was a corruption…She really believed that…And I suppose after awhile I started to as well. I thought I blocked out her words but they've been there all this time, like dormant seeds…"

Morgana sits back in her chair, looking drained. She stares at Merlin as he leans forward, hesitating before he takes her limp hand.

"I think some people create their own prisons. It sits up here," he taps his temple. "You didn't deserve what happened to you, though I think you believe I do," he leans forward and cups her face. "Magic is impartial, like the trees or stones, it's not good or bad. There is nothing evil about it, only how we use it…We all carry guilt for the things we do, we all hate ourselves for the choices that we make or don't but what happened to you was unforgivable and it wasn't your fault. It wasn't your fault…it was mine," he says it clearly, his eyes full of tears. "That's for me to carry, not you."

"You didn't make my choices for me Merlin," she replies gently as his thumbs wipe away a stray tear on her cheek.

"No but I let you wander a path I could have stopped you going down. I might have failed but I could have tried, should have…" he sighs, lowering his hands to lay on top of hers. Without thinking of it she laces her fingers through his.

"And what path are we on now?" she asks, half joking and his face becomes stone before he leans even closer with a deadly serious look on his face.

"I asked you to avoid the shore during the winter because I've been told you'll die there."

Morgana lifts her brows, processing this information in silence until she smiles. "Told? By the dragon? Well I have some information that refutes that. I have seen the future and I am very much alive."

Alive and with a child…

"Good, lets keep it that way. Promise me you'll stay far away from the sea?"

"And what will I get in return for such a promise?"

"Your life?"

Morgana puffs out a breath. "A funny life that will be. The Last High Priestess and I can't even make it rain without wanting to throw up. How dignified."

Merlin smiles. "You know the good thing about mind prisons?"

"What?"

"They can be knocked down. It might take some effort or none at all but sooner or later they'll topple. The water from the cup didn't work because there's nothing to cure. I think that's promising."

"Oh yes, I'm not sick, just mad," she remarks snidely and with a smile he pulls her up with him.

"I mean it Morgana, the only thing stopping you from using magic is yourself. You just have to find a way to work through it."

They stand pressed close to each other, Merlin smiling gently and Morgana, though tired, has not felt so light in a very long time. She gazes into his smiling eyes, eyes that flick down to her lips before looking back up. She could let him kiss her, a part of her wants nothing else but another part shies away. He blames himself for what happened to her and maybe he is right. He does not want forgiveness and she doesn't think she has it in her to offer it. What he wants is a chance.

"You want to help me?"

"Yes," he answers seriously.

"Do you want more then that Merlin?" she gazes at him steadily and he swallows, gaze softening.

"I don't think that's up to me."

"I asked what you want, not what you think."

His mouth curls a little. "Then I want to be your friend."

"Like the previous times you wanted to be?" she is toying with him now but the pulse of hurt is real. How can she offer him a way in again after being repeatedly burned?

"It's different now, you know it is. I'm offering you my help and it will always be there. You can take it or leave it," he says, though not unkindly. He will not hold it against her if she never calls for him again. If she is being honest with herself leaving that offer untouched would probably be the wisest decision. He places too much importance on Arthur and Camelot and she will always come second.

Even if we have a child together?

The question gives her pause, along with a thrill of fear. She does not know what sort of space Merlin has in his heart for others, how far he regards his duty against every other part of his life. The answer is she does not know and Merlin probably doesn't either.

The one thing I do know is that the girl will not come to be if I shut him out completely. One night, one night is all it would take. Sacrifice a few hours for a lifetime of happiness…with or without him.

Before Amata she would have regarded these selfish thoughts with relish because the Morgana who wanted to kill her brother for his throne would use the girl to hurt Merlin, to deny him and everything he stands for. That young girl would grow to hate Camelot and everyone in it. A great sadness washes over her, a weariness at her past sins. She gazes at Merlin's patient face and feels a confusing splash of longing spreading through the sadness.

She kisses his cheek, her mouth lingering before she pulls away and heads to the door. "Thank you, Merlin."

They reach Camelot just as the sun rises the next morning, after travelling through the night. Merlin had not wanted to waste any more time. As they cross into Camelot the young monk pauses, looking unsure.

"What if my lands fail because I'm no longer in them?"

Morgana pauses and looks back. She had not thought of that possibility and she has an image of the grass at Galahad's feet growing yellow and brown. After this thought comes another, more morbid: what if the monk dies from being separated from the land? By the look on his face he may be thinking the same. Merlin shakes his head and with a wave of his hand a window opens in the air, making Morgana gasp.

"It's fine, see?" They peer closer and through the gap in the air is not grassland but a vast lake and trailing willows. Corbenic. "The curse ended with the Fisher King's death."

"But what will happen when I die?"

"I'm sure nothing will…but you might want to produce some heirs, just to be on the safe side." Merlin suggests and Morgana laughs at the scandalised look on Galahad's face. Merlin had told her that all of the monks are celibate, which she had known.

"Don't worry Galahad, I'm sure there won't be any arranged marriages in your future for some time…" she smirks at Merlin behind the monk's back, who grins in return before looking at the reddening monk with sympathy.

"You'll be back home in no time. Just a few days celebration at the king's revival, with you as guest of honour."

"That doesn't sound so bad," Galahad says, perking up.

"Be careful of the court ladies Galahad, they're tenacious," Morgana says and means it. One look at him and the court matrons will be scheming which one of their eligible daughters will be Galahad's betrothed. Especially once they learn of his heritage. Feeling sorry for the boy, who looks at the castle in the distance with more fear than he showed the beast, Morgana pats his arm. "Have courage, you won't be there for long. Just stick with Merlin, no ladies will bother you."

"Ha ha."

Mordred envelopes her in a tight hug as they reach the castle steps and she laughs.

"I've been gone a few days."

"Into the Perilous Lands," he counters and pulls back.

"I think we should start calling it by it's old name, Elmet. The land thrives again," Morgana motions to Galahad, who steps forward and offers his hand. Surprised but smiling Mordred shakes it.

"This is Galahad, he…he is the guardian of the Cup of Life." she struggles what title to give him, as he has many and each one he will bulk at.

"He's also the ruler of Elmet."

"I'm just a monk," Galahad says humbly as Kara appears and goes to Morgana. They hug and then the girl appears a little dazzled as she looks at the man in white, like the sun just shined into her eyes. Something unpleasant squirms in Morgana's stomach and she looks at Kara, who's cheeks are tinged pink.

"How is Arthur?"

"Alive. Since you've been gone his condition has not changed," she responds, collecting herself. She smiles. "Aithusa has not left his side. She's taken a shine to him," she says, looking up as Galahad and Mordred hastily make their way up the steps, Merlin leading the way.

"He's a monk," Morgana says and Kara turns to her with a guarded look, one that she has seen before.

"He does not follow the Old Religion?" she sounds level.

"No but he's…different," she makes her way up the steps and from above she can hear faint cheering that turns into booming cries of delight as knights strike their swords against their shields and what sounds like the entire castle takes up the cry.

Arthur is awake.

a.n:

This was a bit of an info dump but Morgana talking about what happened has been a long time coming.

Just to let you know there will be a few more chapters left before I finish this story. I won't have the time to dedicate to it but when I do I want to write a sequel. Thanks for all the support!