Merlin had always loved her; deep down, his heart couldn't deny his pure infatuation for her. When he first came to Camelot, his breathe was stolen by her beauty. Her emerald green eyes, they were fierce and pure. Her raven hair curls elegantly styled.
Her unblemished skin, pale as moonlight. Merlin was fascinated by her, utterly stricken by her perfection. He wasn't an idiot, though; he was a manservant. He could never have her, even if he was brave enough to try.
His adoration for her only grew though, she was a spitfire of justice and goodness. It all went downhill, though; Merlin watched her fall. He aided it even. Kilgharrah was wise, but Merlin was convinced he'd made a mistake listening to the dragon.
He could have saved her; he was confident he could have. Merlin didn't try when he had a chance though, he began to despise her. She became his enemy, and the true Morgana was lost. Her kind eyes were gone, forever.
In the pain, anger, and guilt he felt when it all came to a close, he stabbed her. He held her and watched her eyes fade, whispering that he loved her. Arthur, Gwaine, Lancelot, and now her. It was all his fault; he'd been too hateful. Too blind.
When the dragon told him it wasn't over yet, he knew it was a lie. He had failed; Merlin was alone. He'd messed up his destiny.
Morgana didn't know who Merlin was at first. He was a manservant to Arthur. She knew he was clumsy and often messed up. Arthur often complained about the boy, but she knew he was fond of him. She learned he was more.
Merlin was mysterious, kind, witty, and wiser than he let on. He was a curious puzzle that Morgana wanted to solve. When he helped her save the young Mordred, her feelings for him developed. He was so easy to talk to; Morgana could have loved him.
But when she told him her deepest darkest secret, he hid, instead of helping her, he revealed the coward that was him. Merlin poisoned her; he had manipulated her. He was what she feared, Emrys. He could have helped her, showed her he was like her.
Merlin was a coward, though, and her heart grew blacker by the day. Her sister was stolen from her, so she vowed to destroy what Merlin loved. She succeeded; she was pleased with his face. He looked entirely broken, just like how she did when he betrayed her.
Morgana wasn't surprised to find a sword in her gut, no way he'd let her go. He tried to kill her before, and that was before she'd stolen everything from him. She looked up into his deep blue eyes and was confused.
Instead of the pleasure, fury, or even disgust she expected, Morgana saw regret and even more pain. Tears ran down his dirty sunken cheeks; his eyes were haunted and distant. He held her, but she had no energy to thrash.
"I love you, I'm sorry…." He sobbed, and Morgana pushed back her own tears. If he loved her, then why? As she laid in his arms, dying, she felt all her hate die first. She loved him too, even after all he did. He was a damn lovable bastard.