38. Revelation

Summary: "Morgana?" Merlin asks, taking a tentative step forward. She doesn't respond. He ignores Gaius's warning look and asks again, "Morgana? Morgana, do you remember . . . what you saw?"

Firstly, there's a pool of what must be vomit in the middle of the tent, Morgana crouched over it, Muirden holding her hair and Gaius pacing. Then there's the on and off flickering of a glow from her arms, and her chanting, ". . . Blood, blood everywhere, death everywhere, stop, the blood, blood everywhere, death everywhere . . ."

"Gauis!" I cry out in alarm, stepping back, unable to stop myself from staring. Both Gaius and Muirden look up but Morgana still chants and stares ahead, unseeing, or perhaps seeing elsewhere.

". . . blood everywhere, death everywhere, stop, stop the blood . . ."

"Is she dying?" Merlin asks in horror, and Gaius immediately tries herding us out the door.

"Help!" Morgana cries out then, staring in horror, and everyone's attention is immediately back on her. But the second time she addresses it to someone. "HELP, Merlin, help!"

Merlin rushes to her side just as the girl collapses, almost in her own puke if not for his timely save. She coughs wetly, eyes rolling, and then her body stills.

"She was having a vision, I would presume," Muirden says calmly, and quickly lifts up Morgana's unconscious form from Merlin's arms, laying her in the nearest cot.

"Then why would she call out Merlin's name?" I ask, and he rolls his eyes.

"Likely a vision about Merlin then," he answers in annoyance, and begins dabbing at Morgana's face with a cloth.

"Do you think so?" Merlin turns to Gaius, who frowns deeply.

"There is no other assumption we can make till she wakes, unfortunately."

It's almost comical as Morgana gasps, eyes shooting open, the next second. We all startle; Gaius immediately kneels at the side of her cot, soothing her as the girl gasps. After a minute her breathing slows and she makes to sit up, crouching over and blinking rapidly. "It's alright, Morgana, you're safe now," he assures, patting her back.

"Morgana?" Merlin asks, taking a tentative step forward. She doesn't respond. He ignores Gaius's warning look and asks again, "Morgana? Morgana, do you remember . . . what you saw?"

She squeezes her eyes shut, grabbing her head and shaking it. "No, no don't remember," she whispers. "Can't tell. He said . . ."

"Morgana." I surprise even myself with the demand, though Morgana finally opens her eyes, meeting my gaze where I stand at the end of the cot. There's at least a little coherency in them this time.

Whatever Uther told her to not tell, I want to hear it.

"Please. You shouted for Merlin to help you; do you remember that?"

Morgana's whole body wracks in a shudder, eyes widening. Then they shoot across the room, landing on each person standing around her bedside and lingering on Merlin.

When she finally makes her way back to looking at me, resolve has replaced confusion. "I remember," she nods, voice hoarse, "though I cannot tell. Uther has forbid me share any vision without his permission."

"But what if it's too late by the time he gets back to Camp?" Merlin protests. "You were calling for help, Morgana."

"Do not ask her to disobey her guardian," Muirden answers without emotion.

Gaius sighs. "I fear it's for the best, regardless. The future is little to be helped, after all, especially if one knows it."

Merlin's shoulders droop, but I've paid the men little attention. For all the time Morgana and I have spent estranged, the years and years before it have taught me to look for the set of her jaw; the resolve in Morgana's eyes is unwavering now as she says, "Perhaps this one can be helped."

Gaius frowns, putting a hand over hers. "But not until Lord Uther—"

"My guardian will be gone for days," she replies, though her eyes immediately move to rest on me. "In his place, it would be best told to his son."

I'm surprised how legitimate the judgment sounds, even knowing with a surety that my father would in no way agree. All eyes turn towards me as Morgana continues, "If you could all leave the room, I will tell him what I can."

Gaius says nothing for a terrifying few seconds, frowning at Morgana with a furrowed brow. Probably thinking it would be better to wait, or to send Morgana and a few knights after the party that left, not an hour ago. She looks back with impressive confidence, however; for that or whatever reason Gaius nods and turns to go without a word, Muirden following him out. Merlin lingers at the door, face both concerned and horribly curious.

"Including you, Merlin," she says, nodding at him. Merlin shoots me a meaningful glance and shuts the tent door behind him.

Then we are alone. Morgana sighs, sitting the rest of the way up. Her face is still so pale, so sickly, and I worry its not only from the mysterious vision but the increasing distance between her and her guardian. Its too early now, of course; little time has passed since my father's departure.

Morgana must know this as well, calm and silent as she pats the bed next to her. I hesitantly move to sit there, unaccustomed to being so close to her piercing gaze. "Are you alright?" I ask, searching her eyes for any concealed pain.

"I saw the outcome just before the mission left," she says quietly, ignoring the question. Her gaze is unwavering. "The result of Lord Uther's attack on Kanen and his men and . . . and his dragons. I saw that I would die, and told him so. Lord Uther refused to stay behind. I saw nothing of his fate, though l hope for his death."

"Morgana," I say, maybe in admonition, mostly in surprise. "What can you mean by this? Kanen—with dragons? That doesn't make any sense."

She sets her jaw but otherwise continues as if I haven't spoken. "I did not realize how much would change once I convinced Uther to let me stay. Now, instead I see Merlin and you there. I don't know how you got there, but I'm standing in a forest, and Merlin isn't able to save me—not me, but whoever's eyes I was seeing through. Then I turn and I'm in a small room and Uther . . . he breathes his last breath. Five dragons, they light the little village on fire. There is so much death, death everywhere, blood everywhere," at that she grabs my wrist tightly, "until Merlin convinced them to leave."

I gape at her, uncomprehending. "Sorry?"

"The dragons, Arthur!" she hisses, still quiet but much more urgent. "Merlin convinced them to leave. I didn't see how. I don't know how the man in charge of a band of thieves got the beasts to come from Camelot in the first place."

I pull myself away from the intensity of her gaze, staring at the opposite wall for a minute.

My father, dead. The image doesn't come, neither does any feelings with the idea. I move from it quickly, though its almost as hard to imagine Merlin anywhere near a dragon. They'd sooner flatten him underfoot than notice him, judging by what the soldiers have said: taller than trees, some even the height of mountains. What could he do to convince the mindless beasts to stop their killing? "Isn't it best we aren't there then, Merlin and I?" I ask finally, hoping against such a fate. I look back at her when she squeezes my wrist in a bruising grip.

"If you do not go they will all die. Merlin's entire village—"

"But does he die?" I interrupt, grabbing her wrist as well so our arms are interlocked.

Morgana doesn't answer me at first. Her eyes flick across the features of my face, looking for something. I can't tell if she finds it. "I don't know." She shakes her head, and then lifts her mouth in a sad smirk. "I know that I pray for Uther's death, even if it ensures my own."

My stomach twists at that reminder, the thought of Gilli and the claim marks snaking up to his neck, choking him blue . . . Morgana will never suffer that fate, I swear to myself. I will ensure it never does—become the fiercest warrior the four kingdoms have ever seen, win Camelot for her and Merlin, shield them from a fate of shielding their 'betters' till they break. "We will save him, somehow. I promise."

"Never promise that to me," she answers solemnly. There's an acceptance in her eyes that scares me. But then Morgana pulls at my shoulder with her free hand till it touches her own. With our heads resting on each other's shoulders, I feel a warmth I remember from embracing Yilgrid, from hearing Foehart call me 'son.' From making Merlin smile. My throat tightens, and I pull away before it closes entirely.

"And what of this should Merlin know?" I ask, swallowing as I lean back.

Morgana lifts her lips in a small smile. "That he could save lives. I've seen he can do it. But Arthur—we mustn't tell him how. Not for now, at least."

"Alright."

I squeeze her wrist one last time—surprised to feel a sharp shock travel up my arm at the action, though Morgana appears not to notice—before she lets go, nodding towards the door. "The sooner we leave, the better," she says, and swings her feet over the edge of the cot.

"You're coming with us?" I ask, eyebrow raised, and Morgana lifts her mouth again, though it could hardly be called a smile.

"I'd be going anyway. Either with you or escorted by knights, and I'd like to spend my last hours . . . well." Her mouth twists cruelly. "At least as content as possible."

A/N: Bit of a short one, but I thought it best to leave us off here. I should maybe add suicidal thoughts to the list of warnings at the beginning of this fic...darn, every time I say it doesn't get any darker. In my defense, I kind of forgot about this chapter! Its not going to be a theme, I swear!

Thanks everyone for reading, I keep taking forever and you keep being so patient. I don't deserve you, clearly.

catherine10: Yes, and here's more Morgana to add to that! Lol though not a very happy one. Regarding your question I will say yes and no; feel free to be frustrated by that answer. Heehee. Thanks for your review!