For the life of her, Morgause cannot move.
It is not the pain that freezes her, the raw bleeding wounds all over peeking through her shattered armor. Nor is it the leg that still betrays her. It isn't elation at finally, gloriously, ridding herself of the beast who stole the whole world from her. It isn't even horror at who else she rid the world of.
No, Morgause is paralyzed by the earnest gaze of her little brother Arthur.
"Mor-Morgause?" He says, cracked lips working strangely around the unfamiliar name. The prince looks like he has survived a war, as if he can barely hold himself up, and yet the second she materialized back in the throne room, he was there. Idly she wonders why he is bothering to hold her, cradle her to him the way Cerdan had when he had found her, lost in the forest…
She can barely remember the sound of his voice anymore.
"Morgause, are you alright?" Arthur tries again, shooting a concerned look at the equally battered maid beside him.
"What's happened?" The younger woman said gently, one hand on both their shoulders. Morgause can't help the sarcastic chuckle that escapes her; even she can see the way each other's breath hitch with just a touch. The prince and the maid… love certainly had a sense of humor, as Cerdan had always said. It was true of them, as well.
The last remaining priestess, high and mighty, rescued by a lowly druid. He had never known what she'd seen in him, the beautiful fool. Not even when she'd given birth to their boy, their Mordred, did he seem to believe what luck he had been given. But Morgause had always known it was she who was truly blessed. Her world had been gone when the fires came to the Isle, when Nimueh cornered her in the ash and told her of all the wicked things they would do together, her twisted grin seared into her memory. When she realized that the father that had never wanted her was behind the death of everyone she loved.
Scared and alone, she had been fully ready to die there in the woods.
But Cerdan had found her. Nursed her back to health no matter how hard she protested, made her believe again in herself and in hope for the future, gave her a brand new home and a wonderful people to belong too. Morgause would never forget the iron of his grip around her hand, holding her steady and bleeding away the pain of the tattooing on her back, when she finally became one of them. Her life line, her everything…
How tiny he must have seemed, to the rest of the world. How easily killed.
Arthur is looking at his maid in open confusion now, as Morgause laughs in his arms between wet coughs. Neither of them understand how love consumes you, how it makes you give everything to the other until the day that they go; and with them, take all that you are. They think they are good people now, think they make each other better… when in reality their love could easily drive either of them into the cold grip of vengeance. A lesson Uther taught her well. A lesson she in turn passed on to Merlin.
"I killed our father." Morgause says at last.
Arthur pulls back, eyes hard with something indefinable. She just looks up at him challengingly, waiting for the inevitable tantrum, the foul countenance so like she had seen in her father today. Waiting for a fist to strike out or a hand to throttle, waiting for revenge to take her as well. All those illusions of her own righteousness have been tainted; she knows she deserves nothing less.
Morgana must be avenged.
And for half a second, she thinks she'll get it. And then the fire dies in his eyes, and his head bows only briefly, and the woman he loves has wrapped herself around his shoulders consolingly. She remembers that, too; the warm embrace of love, dousing even the blackest of flame. But there is no one there to love her, not now, not after what she's done.
She is alone in his arms.
"…He deserved it." Arthur bites out at last, to her immense shock. His voice sounds as if he is still trying to convince himself, but his eyes shine with conviction. And for the very first time she feels that connection, the knowledge that this is her family and that, perhaps, Uther Pendragon has hurt his son even more than any of them. It is a knowledge she crushes under her heel as soon as she can, because he does not yet understand why he should not be wasting his concerned gaze on her. Why she is truly her father's daughter, after all.
"My brother…" she murmurs weakly, freeing a bloodied hand to press into his dirty face. His mouth gapes at her in wonder as she traces the lines of his face, smiling affectionately at the features she has seen before in her boy. In the child she left behind, safe and bereaved in Aglain's care, while she went off to burn his grandfather's whole world to the ground. She regrets the decision to leave him for her revenge; now more than ever. Mordred will look something like his uncle, she thinks; though she hopes he retains something of his beautiful father…
"Can you stand?" The maid- ah yes, her name is Gwen, wasn't it?- says with a worried grimace she does not deserve. Her hands come to her torn back to help Arthur lift her, and she does not bother to hide the scream that the small hands on her open wounds tear from her. There was little point in pride, now, when she has nothing left to be proud of.
"Do not waste the effort, my dear." She whispered tiredly, nodding thankfully up at Arthur as he lowered her back to the ground, still not letting go. "I have no reason to continue…"
Arthur opened his mouth to cry something, distressed by her weakness, but before he could a sudden pair of thin arms shot past him, grabbing her by the collar. Morgause cocked an eyebrow up at the enraged face of a woman, older than her, wild dark hair spilling loose from a pale blue bandanna. It takes only a moment before she recognizes those eyes, dark blue and blazing with grief.
"Where is my son?"
Morgause shook her head, brown eyes aching to shed the tears she had all used up.
"Lost…" she answered guiltily. "The boy you knew may as well have died with my sister."
Morgause laughed bitterly as Hunith slammed her back into the ground with a huff, prompting shocked looks from Arthur and Gwen.
"What did you say about Morgana?" The mother shouted, all traces of the demure housewife gone without a trace. Morgause's broken chortling trailed off, as she looked upwards blankly.
"I killed my sister." She murmured. "I killed Morgana. Now… do with me what you will."
The morning light shining through the windows suddenly vanished, as day became night.
"Thank you for the offer, my lady."
Merlin rose from the split in the earth like a ghost, Morgana's still body cradled in his arms.
"I think I'll take you up on it."
###
Instinctively, Arthur felt his nearly broken arm fight through the pain it was stilling reeling from, to lightly touch Guinevere's shoulder. It was a tiny motion, barely anything really, but somehow it grounded the both of them. They had a way to doing that for each other.
The both of them desperately needed it, to face what was before them.
Merlin- shabby, wisecracking Merlin- was floating up out of the dark, seeming to drain the daylight from around them as he ascended. His skin and clothes were caked in dirt, his hair stuck up every which way, and his eyes- his eyes! Arthur could scarcely believe it; he hadn't had nearly enough time to come to grips with the idea, but seeing Merlin using magic, seeing his friendly blues consumed by this disturbing tawny light…
Guinevere swallowed audibly beside him, and Morgause unconsciously drew herself closer to his chest.
It was a terrifying thing to behold.
"Merlin!" Hunith exhaled beside them, looking trapped somewhere between relief and horror. She flinched when those eyes- why wouldn't they stop glowing?- snapped towards her. For a moment nothing happened, as if mother and son were struggling to recognize one another, until Hunith's wide eyes drifted down to his arms. "Oh, Merlin… so it's true?"
Merlin's inhuman eyes looked down bewilderingly as well, at Morgana- his sister's- lifeless body. The dirt didn't seem to touch her fair skin, or the pure white dress she was now wearing. Arthur swallowed again, and felt his fingers tighten hard around his other sister's arm. Morgana was dead.
Morgana was dead.
And Morgause had killed her.
Their eyes met, raging blue and somber brown, and Arthur found himself hating the sight of her. When she had appeared in the ruined throne room… it had been so easy to haul himself up and run to her, as if something inside was calling to her bloodied form. Now, he wished he hadn't bothered. Now, he wished her obvious guilt and shame didn't tug at his tired heart, even still.
"…How?" Came a snarl from his side; with a surprised look, Arthur confirmed that Guinevere had followed his line of sight, and was glaring down at her with tearful eyes. "I-if she truly was your sister, than how could you have killed her?"
Morgause remained silent, simply shaking her head with a rueful smile, before looking back at Merlin.
And that was when they all noticed that Merlin was laughing. Not evilly, or maniacally, like he had heard tales of sorcerers being prone to. It was a simple little thing, the kind Arthur had heard expelled a hundred times over some private joke of his. It sounded normal and sane; and considering what the situation was, that was more unsettling then anything.
"Don't worry, Gwen, she's not dead." Merlin said with a genuine smile, wide and goofy and so very out-of-place with the way his eyes kept burning. "Here, see?" Dropping to his knees, a gust of wind cleared the dirt from the floor and made a clear space for him to lay her limp form. Arthur felt a breath he didn't know he'd been holding leave him, as he saw the slightest rise and fall of Morgana's chest. She was alive.
"I…" Morgause croaked in his arms, her large eyes widening even more, as if wanting to believe it but not daring to. "But I killed her…"
The tiny way she said it, like a dry sob, made Arthur share a sad look with Guinevere. Even in all this perplexity, he felt a warm glow in his gut for the love of his life. It seemed they were on the same page about everything, even the annoyed sympathy they couldn't help feeling for the woman in his arms.
"Yes, you did." Merlin said tonelessly, still kneeling beside his wife. A worn hand stroked her hair absent-mindedly, but his face was locked onto Morgause's with luminous intensity. Beside them, he noticed Hunith reeling back a few steps. "You shoved a sword through her heart and you killed her. But I brought her back."
Arthur shuddered involuntarily. Something was incredibly wrong here… and it wasn't just the pitch blackness that had doused the morning light. Something in the air…
"That's not po-" Morgause bit out, cutting herself off with a sharp yell as she forced herself to sit up next to him. The sound made Guinevere wince sympathetically, while he caught Merlin bristling in something like anticipation out of the corner of his eye. Despite himself he found a hand reaching out to her, only to be batted away stubbornly as the blonde woman focused on his manservant with an agonized grimace. "I-it was an accident, Merlin…"
Judging from the way Merlin's face twisted, that had been the wrong thing to say.
"An accident is when you trip someone carrying a dinner tray." He began evenly, rising ominously to his feet. "An accident is when you spill your master's wine, or send the wrong letter; it's not an accident when you murder the WOMAN I LOVE!"
Arthur's exhausted arms pulled Guinevere close into his chest- now that Morgause was sitting up with her own strength- in a vain attempt to shield her from what was before them. In all his years, he'd never imagine Merlin could look so… terrifying. Judging by the small whimper from Hunith, neither could she.
Merlin took a deep breath, closing his shining eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, still bright, he seemed to have collected himself, though his blank face still bore down on Morgause's downcast expression with uncommon fury.
"You saw an opportunity to have your revenge, and you took it." He said, disgustedly. "You just ran ahead and impaled him-"
Guinevere's grasp around him tightened comfortingly, as if trying to squeeze out the sudden grief and revulsion curling through him. Much had changed in his perception of his father recently, but hearing of how he died still cut Arthur to his very bone. He nodded imperceptibly, thankfully, at her, before remembering that Merlin was still talking.
"- didn't stop to see if he was holding her, didn't stop to think about anything else…" He ranted coldly, while Morgause's head dropped further. He had met her for the first time as an immovable knight, a force to be reckoned with; now, his long-lost sister looked smaller than anything he'd yet seen. A sharp chuckle made him look back at his best friend, the cruel smile on his face, and wonder if he ever really knew him at all. "But… the world is a terrible place, isn't it?"
The words made Morgause look up at him in surprise, even as Arthur exchanged another confused glance with Guinevere and Hunith took another step back. Merlin carefully treaded over Morgana, and the shadows seemed to follow.
"…And thinking otherwise has only led to my wife being run through." He spat. Arthur felt impotent adrenaline surge to his exhausted legs, straining to get them to start running. "But I can fix it, Morgause, I can. All I need… is your life." He came to a stop, looming ominously above their scared faces. "Will you help me fix my mistakes, sister?"
Arthur's eyes darted back and forth between the two of them, watching confusion and then understanding dawn on Morgause's tired face. Merlin smiled tightly, and she nodded.
"Yes." She whispered. "For her… please."
Merlin stretched long fingers towards her, clawing, like he was going to pull something from her, and it was suddenly so cold he could see his breath, see Morgause's, as it drifted out of her mouth and towards Merlin-
SLAP!
The spell- or whatever it was- fell apart as Hunith's hand connected hard with Merlin's face.
The sorcerer stumbled back, still glowing eyes blinking in shock at his bristling mother, whose obvious fear was only overshadowed by her fury.
"Merlin, you stop this this instant!" She scolded. Her harsh face softened. "I-I know what you're going through, but this is not the way."
For a moment, Arthur held his breath, watching Merlin clutch his red cheek, wondering what he would do. Listen to her, please listen to her. And then he did the last thing any of them saw coming… he smiled.
"I could have saved Will, you know." He said, and Arthur saw now that it was a rueful smile, a pained one. Memories of sharp blue eyes and an obnoxious voice filled him, reminded him of the simple peasant who had sacrificed himself to save him. Who, he now knew, had lied and died a maligned sorcerer… to protect Merlin from him.
They had never talked about Will. Neither could allow themselves to think too hard on what his death meant for the both of them.
Hunith's mouth worked soundlessly, before she found her voice. "Honey, I…"
"It's true, Mother." He said, shaking his shaggy head sadly. Even the opaque light couldn't hide the ancient sorrow in his eyes. "I knew, somewhere deep down, while he was telling me how scared he was… I knew I could put that all that lost breath back into him. And I knew I would have to pay a terrible cost." He looked back at Morgana longingly. "But she's always been strong enough to pay that cost, y'know; always wanted me to realize I could do it too. So many lives wasted, when I could save them…"
And then he smiled again, genuinely, worryingly.
"But it's okay now, Mother." He announced cheerfully, clapping dirty hands together in that way he had when he was getting ready to do chores. "Because Morgana and Will can come back… everyone can come back."
Guinevere stiffened when those eyes swept over to her, and Arthur grit his teeth and held her even closer. "I can bring your parents back, Gwen!" He implored. When she didn't respond, he turned to Arthur.
"And your mother, too. I don't have their bodies, so it might be a bit tricky… but I can do it eventually, Arthur, I know I can." The earnest smile faded, and Merlin's face took on a distant, haunted quality. "I can do anything…"
Hunith was openly crying now, keeping her distance but looking at her son searchingly, as if trying to find the boy that they had all loved. She didn't seem able to even talk anymore… Arthur knew the feeling. One person who didn't, however, was…
"So it was all another lie, then?" Guinevere said despondently from under his arm. Merlin looked back at her blankly, and with a comforting glance at Arthur she emerged from under his embrace. "All those things you said… about loving us, protecting us, wanting a world where we could all just be happy? "
"O-of course not!" Merlin said, as if scandalized. He sounded worryingly like Morgana. "I'm… I'm still that person, Gwen."
Guinevere gave him a slow, deliberate look from head to toe, before meeting his gold eyes with more bravery than she probably felt.
"Well I'm sorry, Merlin, but I'm not seeing the man who begged me to believe in him, so that everything would be okay." She said firmly. "I don't know who is standing in front of me, talking about killing a woman with delight, but it's not my friend."
Merlin reeled, as if he'd been slapped again, and for a second the light in his eyes flickered to reveal a yawning hurt that Arthur had to look away from… the look in them was so much like father. Judging by her guilty glance towards him, Morgause thought much the same… and he realized that she had those eyes, too. When Arthur could stomach looking back, he found that Merlin's glowing gaze was focused on Guinevere with more rage than any of them had ever seen from him.
"Your friend was a weakling." Merlin sneered, opening and closing the hands at his sides as if grasping an invisible neck. "He did as little good as he could and thought it would be enough to make him a good person. People died all around him, while he just pretended that being a 'good person' was worth more than stopping Uther's mad reign." A bitter laugh trickled out of cracked lips. "Do you know, I actually thought it mattered that your prince over there would fix everything? One day…"
Arthur lifted his chin and focused, catching Merlin's eyes. And suddenly they were the only ones in the room…. and the prince- the king- had his voice back.
"…I wanted to." Arthur said somberly. "I didn't know how, but I wanted to."
"I know." Merlin admitted despondently. "But even if you do heal all the damage your father did to this kingdom, it wouldn't change anything. Because he still killed them all, because he still scared her and used her and ruined her life and-!"
Merlin broke off with a choking sound, and looked back at Morgana's quietly breathing form with open sorrow.
"…and I still let him."
The only sound in the black, ruined chamber was the sound of Hunith falling to her knees, in grief he supposed; both for the daughter-in-law she had grown to love, and the son who had been damaged seemingly beyond repair. Arthur swallowed, and for once, admitted defeat. I don't know how to reach you…
"…And that's why you can't let him win again."
All pairs of eyes, both normal and glowing, snapped towards Morgause's, which were suddenly alive with a guilty resolve. Arthur gaped at her, and their eyes met briefly. No…
"We are… we are all guilty of allowing Uther to make this world." She continued mournfully, her bloodied hands clasped pensively in her lap. "If we had stood up for what was right; all of us, together… well, my husband would still be alive. And s-so would… my sister…"
"Morgause-!" Arthur stopped, and started again, forcing a word he was still struggling to use out of his mouth. "Sister, please…"
For just a second, their eyes lingered… and the sadness, the gratitude, written in the lines of her face, made something in Arthur flicker. It didn't matter that she had murdered the father he still loved beyond all reason, it didn't matter that Morgana had gone with him. It didn't even matter that she was a sorceress; in this moment, she was family.
"Brother," She murmured with a wry smile. "Let me do this, for her…"
In his peripheral vision, he watched Merlin striding forward, unmoved by her display.
Arthur grimaced, and shot to his feet, planting himself on wobbling legs in front of Morgause.
"This is not the way… Merlin." He commanded. "I… I am the king now."
His Guinevere stood up beside him, placing a supportive hand on his arm; just the strength he needed.
"This is my kingdom, Merlin." Arthur continued, watching the flicker of surprise cross his friends face. "And it will not be a place where power overrules justice, not anymore. And no… no matter how powerful your magic makes you, this is not just."
"Arthur, stop-!"
Guinevere's queenly glance shut his sister's protests down hard, and he smirked as Morgause exchanged bewildered looks with Hunith. Merlin stared the both of them down with alien eyes.
"…You would leave your sister- your true sister- to this… half-life?" He said slowly. "So that the woman who killed her can live?"
Arthur's sought out Morgana, his oldest friend and closest confidante in childhood, looking ethereal and lifeless on the floor. In her white gown, she seemed to be the only light in the room.
"There must be a better way, Merlin," He proclaimed. "And Camelot will not rest until we find it; for both her and Gaius, I promise you." Arthur smiled encouragingly at him; an olive branch, if nothing else. "But we must stand for something better… it was you taught me that."
Merlin's face twisted into a derisive sneer.
"I'm done standing for something better."
With an angry twist of his wrist, he threw the both of them flying like ragdolls. They landed tangled together with the still twitching remains of Morgause's dark knights, sparing each other a second to make sure they were both okay, before helplessly watching Merlin gliding over to his still living sister, with inhuman speed.
"Merlin, no-!" Hunith cried.
Morgause closed her eyes, like she was accepting it, accepting the death that he couldn't move fast enough to 's hand hurled a gout of fire towards her…
…And one gust later, a figure appeared in the middle of the flames and spread her arms wide. Like glass, the blaze shattered, not into shards but into butterflies, flapping harmlessly around the throne room. Lit by the cinder of their bodies, they watched the familiar face shake out her hair.
Window after window, Merlin's dark veil lifted and the morning shone back through into the chambers, the light outside meeting the magical light of her eyes and of her creations, as she surveyed the room. With a huff, she put her fists on her hips and pinned her shocked husband with a stern expression.
"Honey…" Morgana smirked. "…you have some explaining to do."
###
Third to last chapter kids! And I've got some big news; looks like we really are going from zero to sixty! I plan to get up another chapter Friday night, (!) and the final chapter on Saturday night! :O So excited to finally be closing this book; hope everybody finds it the ending serviceable. :)
2 to go!