Author's note: This fic was started all the way back in 2014, though at that point it wasn't much. Then in 2015, I decided to enter ACBB with this fic, and it grew in size to the point where there was no way I was gonna make the deadline. Then life happened, and here we are, way too many years later, and it's still not done. But it's going to be because I am nothing if not stubborn!

What's super funny about this fic is that a lot of the dystopian things mentioned - like being constantly under surveillance no matter where you go - has become a real thing in some countries in the real world. I guess life really does imitate art. Or maybe I was just able to predict where technology was headed. This is, after all, sort of inspired by Das Leben der Anderes/The Lives of Others and world history in general.

A huuuuuge thank you to everyone who's cheered me on throughout the years, and most importantly to my lovely beta hart_d who's literally been with me since my first written fic in the Merlin fandom.

And now on to the actual story.

Morgana wasn't sure what exactly it was that woke her up. It might have been the nightmare, horrible as it was - a recurring one that always had her trembling in fear, lungs heaving for breath while she tried to convince herself it wasn't a vision, and if it was, that nothing about the future was ever certain. Or perhaps it was the intense heat from the tall flames standing up from the lamppost near her bed, or the shrill, ear-splitting sound of the fire alarm blaring its warning tunes out in her bedroom and in the hallway. Possibly in the entire castle.

For one desperate moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, she couldn't remember where she was; the nightmare was still too real in her mind to properly detect the imminent danger she was in. The flames illuminating the otherwise dark room in a stark orange seemed almost unreal for just the longest of seconds, but then the matching burning in her eyes registered, and instinct took over.

She scrambled back against the headboard, clutching her sheets to her chest as if they could give her any protection, and curled her legs up against her body to get as far away from the threat as possible. Dimly, in the back of her head, there was a tiny voice that reminded her of the years and years of relentless training and crisis management she'd been put through. Still, she found herself petrified by the power surging through her, fuelled by her fear and the high-pitched yet strangely deep sound of the alarm that went straight into her bloodstream, along with the realization that the more she stared at them, the more the flames seemed to gain in intensity, reaching towards the ceiling like thousands of tiny arms trying to find purchase. She didn't need to look in the mirror to know her eyes were glowing a tell-tale gold; she could feel it as surely as she could feel the magic right beneath her skin.

"Morgana!"

The shout of her name drew her attention to the doorway where her brother had just burst through. He wasn't even on duty and still he'd raced to her rooms before the guards could arrive, wearing only a pair of boxers and an old, worn t-shirt, and a look that could almost be mistaken for one of panic.

He ran to the bed where she was still clutching her sheets desperately.

"What are you doing?" he yelled. "Move!" Grasping the sheets, he pulled them from her grip and turned to the flames to try to strangle the fire with them, as Morgana should have done instead of trembling in frozen fear.

Now exposed to the air, Morgana's body felt wet with cold sweat that stuck to her like a second layer of uncomfortable skin, and her nervous system was sending tremors out through her body, but whether that was from the cold, or the fear, or the unfamiliar magical power burning itself off now that the flames were being fought, she couldn't say. Closing her eyes, she tried to get her frantic breathing under control, to use some of the exercises Gaius had taught her for when she woke up from a nightmare or a vision. The tremors would cease after that, Gaius had said. Steady breathing was the key to everything.

So she breathed. Inhaled slowly, held her breath and counted the seconds, exhaled, slow and long until there was no more air in her lungs. Repeated. It was harder than usual due to the fire alarm still going strong, but little by little, some of the tension left her.

Her ears picked up a scramble close to the door, which would mean the guards had finally appeared, and the next thing she knew, gentle hands took hold of her face and lifted it up to meet familiar brown eyes.

"It's okay, Morgana," Gwen said. "It's okay. They're fighting the fire now." She rubbed gentle circles into her ice cold skin, warming up her cheeks. "It's okay now."

"Gwen," Morgana breathed and knew that she was safe. It wasn't exactly the words as much as it was the soothing voice and the kind face of someone who knew and protected her secret that calmed her the final step down. Gwen was there and everything was going to be okay. The fire hadn't spread, and the nightmare, which she'd had too many times for it to be anything but a vision, was not taking place in her bedroom. She wasn't going to be exposed.

At least not yet.

Guards were swarming her rooms when she looked up. Arthur was standing in the midst of it, barking orders right and left, his authority unquestionable although he was only in his nightclothes, unlike Gwen, who had been on duty and was dressed in full knight's uniform. A tinge of something bittersweet and proud surged through her at the sight of her beloved, magnificent brother. She supposed she could have been angry that Arthur was to inherit the throne despite being the youngest, but there could be no doubts as to whom was the better leader, more suited for ruling the kingdom. And it wasn't her.

She was destined for another greatness anyway.

The fire had already been put out, probably by Arthur's herculean effort, and Morgana could see one of the guards standing with a fire extinguisher, giving the lamp and the surrounding area an extra spray to strangle any possible embers. Gwen coaxed her out of the bed to stand gingerly on her own bare feet, still fighting the tremors of her body, and Arthur was by her side in mere moments, hands cautiously holding on to her forearms as if she might break should he apply a bit more pressure.

"I'm fine, Arthur," she said weakly, knowing she looked anything but.

"So you say," he retorted with gentle sarcasm and a hint of a hesitant smile on his lips. "Don't play strong now, Morgana."

She huffed out a laugh. "I'm not. I really am fine."

He arched an eyebrow that showed his disbelief clearly. Then he turned to Gwen. "Dame Guinevere, please escort my sister to the infirmary. There's no reason for her to go outside with the others. Especially in this state."

"Yes, Your Highness," Gwen said, fighting a smile.

"And inform me if there's anything serious. Otherwise, I suggest she spend the night in one of Gaius' beds." He inclined his head towards the burned-out lamp. "I doubt she'll be able to get much sleep here. At least not until the investigation is over, and that might take a few days."

"I'm still here," Morgana felt the need to chide. "Don't talk as if I'm not."

"So you are." Arthur gave Gwen a pointed look. "Dame Guinevere."

"We'll be on our way, sire."

With a reassuring arm around Morgana's shoulders, Gwen led her out of her rooms, out into the hallway, and through the corridors, where they passed dignitaries and visiting diplomats exiting their rooms. Protocol dictated that everyone was to gather outside when the fire alarm sounded in case of evacuation, but they would probably be sent back once they'd been accounted for and word had gotten out that only Morgana's lamp had been on fire. Hopefully they'd shut off the fire alarm too.

Gaius was already changed and waiting in his scrubs when they reached the infirmary, clearly having been alerted to their arrival. He cast one glance at Morgana, guided her towards the bed he usually used to examine his patients, and sat her down. Gwen followed, kneeling beside her, and moved her grip to Morgana's hands, while Gaius went to his work table to retrieve his medical scanner.

"How are you feeling?" Gwen asked. "You weren't burned, were you?"

"I'm fine. Physically," Morgana said and straightened her back when Gaius came back with the scanner. "At least I think so."

"We will know shortly," Gaius said and let the red light from the scanner glide over Morgana's body and back again. He inspected the screen attached to it, a slight frown furrowing his brows. "There are no burns. No smoke in your lungs either, but your pulse is still going a bit too fast, and your adrenaline level is heightened, though that is to be expected from such a scare. All in all, I think you just need a cup of tea and a good night's sleep, and then you'll be back on top."

"I'll make the tea," Gwen said and stood back up, letting go of Morgana's hands with a slight squeeze and a smile. "And I'll report back to His Highness and His Majesty before your father can storm in here and launch himself crying at your feet."

Despite everything, Morgana couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her. Her father was the last person she wanted to see right now, with Arthur coming in as a strong second. She wouldn't be able to bear the look of horror and betrayal in their eyes if they knew she'd inherited her mother's gifts. Gifts she wasn't even supposed to know about, for during the Great Purge her mother and stepfather Gorlois had conveniently left the country to go overseas to seek a new life together without Morgana. At least that was the story her father had told her when she was too young to understand what exile meant. Morgause, her older sister whom she wasn't supposed to know about either, had explained it to her much later.

Gaius went to put back the medical scanner and to retrieve a blanket for Morgana, while Gwen was puttering about in the small kitchenette which mostly held coffee, tea, and snacks Gaius used to give her when she was little and didn't want to be subjected to scans. While the tea was brewing, Gwen called up Arthur on her pocketcom as promised and told him of Gaius' diagnosis. After finishing the conversation with a "Yes, sire, I'll take care of her," she hung up and went back to prepare Morgana's tea. Despite not being a servant, she'd prepared it enough times to know to put in a little bit of milk and some sweetener, before stirring it with a spoon and handing it to Morgana.

Morgana smiled gratefully, taking hold of the steaming cup with both hands, careful to not let the blanket Gaius had given her fall from her shoulders. The tea would still be too hot to drink, but she let the heat seep out through the china, warm up her cold fingers, and calm her down a little more.

"Thank you, Gwen," she said. "I'm glad you're here."

Gwen's smile was soft and sweet as she replied. "You're welcome. Now you just concentrate on drinking your tea and getting some sleep once the fire alarm is off. I just talked to Arthur and he says it was probably just a defect in the lamp. Nothing serious. "

Her words were a sharp reminder that it was the exact opposite. It was dead serious, in fact. The kind of serious that would get Morgana a front row seat to the executional square, were she not the king's daughter. And even then, she wasn't sure her father wouldn't condemn her to death should he find out. And he would, she knew. Find out. She'd seen it too many times in her nightmare visions to pretend it wouldn't happen at some point, even if the way often changed from dream to dream. Her sister had once told her there were many futures, many different ways in which that which was certain could happen. People's actions changed the future all the time, but it was impossible to know the exact choice which would set the future on a different course. The vision Morgana had had before she was woken up by the flames had been of her reveal, of her father discovering her magic because she couldn't control it. A very likely future in light of recent events.

The fire alarm went out, leaving the infirmary in a blissful, gratifying silence that eliminated the last of her remaining panic. She chewed at her lip, clutching the warm cup in her hands. She couldn't know if what she was about to do would change anything, but she was among allies; it certainly couldn't change things for the worse.

Taking a deep breath to steel herself, she looked at Gaius, who had sat down in front of his desk to tap at his computer, then at Gwen, who was fiddling away with her pocket com, and said, "It was me."

"Pardon, your highness?" Gaius said and glanced at her over the top of his reading glasses. "What was you?"

Gwen pocketed her com, tilting her head slightly as if trying to figure out what Morgana meant, but she didn't say anything, so Morgana clarified, "I set fire to the lamp. It wasn't a defect. I did it. With magic."

Gwen and Gaius exchanged looks for a short second before Gaius was out of his chair faster than his old limbs should have allowed him, and Gwen was back to kneel in front of Morgana, her brows furrowed in worry.

"Are you sure?" Gwen asked, searching Morgana's face for an answer, or perhaps for a trace of magic. "I didn't see any gold in your eyes when I came in."

"I'm sure," Morgana said. "I could feel the magic running through me from somewhere deep inside and up to right beneath my skin. Then out of my body, fuelling the fire. And I could feel it burning in my eyes."

"That does indeed sound like it," Gaius said. "It has been a long time since the last time I used it, but it's a feeling you never forget. And we knew it would only be a matter of time before your magic would surface." He sounded tired, resigned. "I had hoped we would have more time, but I suppose we were lucky it even waited this many years before developing beyond your visions."

"So what do we do now?" Morgana took a sip of her tea to see if it had cooled to drinkable levels. It had, though just barely.

Gaius was back to fiddling with the medical scanner. "I'll check the scans again, and remove evidence of the excess energy if there's any to be found, though I doubt it. It rarely shows up on scans this long after usage. In the meantime, we must enforce the theory that it was a defect in the lamp." He glanced at Gwen who nodded in response.

"I'll make sure they find a defect," she said resolutely, standing up again. "It won't be hard when they're already working with that theory."

"But what if I lose control again?" Morgana said, unable to help the high pitch that ended her sentence. Her heart rate was probably going up again, too. "I…" she hesitated. Tried a sip of the tea to calm down a bit before she continued. "I dreamt that I was found out because I lost control. I know the future is not always certain, but what if that really happens?"

Gwen and Gaius were back to exchanging telling glances.

"Ideally, I would teach you how to control it," Gaius said, for once sounding like the old man he was, "but it has been so long, I doubt I could be of much use. I may be able to give you a few exercises like the breathing techniques I've already taught you, but newly surfaced magic is often wild and strong. I'm afraid my magic won't be strong enough to handle it." He paused, as if hesitant to continue. "Alternatively, we could contact the Resistance. I'm sure there are more than a few magic users among them who could teach you. But I must admit I am reluctant to involve them in such delicate matters. We don't know if their secrecy spells are as strong as ours, and it could prove fatal should your potential teacher get caught. But what other options do we have?"

"Personally," Gwen offered, "I would prefer it if we could get you across the border to Essetir."

Morgana almost snorted into her tea. "I doubt leaving is going to solve ianything/i. My father would hunt me down because he'd believe I'd been kidnapped, just like that time I got lost in the mall. And when he finds me in Essetir, in Cenred's court? I can't even begin to predict the consequences." She took a large gulp of her tea before continuing. "And what about Arthur? I can't just leave him alone."

Gwen smiled, soft and fond and sweet. "I didn't say that you should. I said I would prefer you to go — for your own safety — but I am not such a hypocrite to expect you to leave because it's too dangerous."

Morgana couldn't help but smile back at that. Gwen's brother, Elyan, often protested it was too dangerous for his sister to stay behind enemy lines, but Gwen plainly refused to leave, citing how important her work was.

Gaius sighed heavily, sitting down in his desk chair as if he had suddenly doubled his own weight. "I suppose we must consider our options carefully before deciding on a course of action. Choosing wrong could be fatal."

"I will notify Elyan," Gwen said, pulling out her pocketcom to begin the heavy security procedures before she could contact her brother. "He'll bring it up to the rest of the Opposition leaders. They'll know what to do."

Elyan started up his tablet, absentmindedly lifting his steaming cup of coffee up to his lips to take a sip, as he began the security procedure that was put in place to prevent spies from getting a hold on vital information. The cup had barely reached his mouth when a message from Gwen popped up, and he had to put it down, untouched, and read the message twice before the words registered properly. Then he read it again, just to be sure, and wondered why his sister hadn't marked it as 'urgent' so he'd be alerted sooner, regardless of the time.

"Morgana set fire to her room last night," he announced to his breakfast companions, who abruptly dropped the usual morning chatter and turned their surprised gazes to him. He even drew the attention of the staff puttering about the dining room to serve breakfast to the king of Essetir and his guests. "With magic," he clarified after a few seconds of stunned silence, and proceeded to relay Gwen's report in detail.

Nimueh, high priestess of the old religion and one of the leaders of the Opposition alongside Elyan, was the first to break the ensuing silence, dabbing her mouth with a napkin before speaking. "I suppose we knew this day would come. It is lucky that nothing worse happened, and that it was a lamp, thus easily explainable. I dare not think of what Uther would have done otherwise. Whether he'd believe his beloved daughter capable of magic, or simply blame it on an unfortunate staff member."

"Personally, I think he'd launch another witch hunt where everyone who has as much as looked at the alleged culprit would face execution," Elyan said bitterly, a grim smile on his face. "He does that kind of thing." He didn't say more, as his words spoke for themselves. After all, there was no one in the Opposition who didn't know why he and his sister had become part of the organisation.

Cenred, king of Essetir and their host, chuckled without humour, buttering up a piece of toast. "Yes, our dear Uther would certainly react that way. Thank the goddesses for modern technology, huh?"

"What a comfort," Emrys, Nimueh's ward, said with a snort from his seat beside her. "But what do we do now?"

"Well," Elyan said, contemplating, scrolling through Gwen's message again. "We can't pull her out."

"Absolutely not," Cenred said, putting down his toast and stabbing the knife in the butter. "I am not sacrificing soldiers on a pointless war with Camelot. He barely tolerates your presence in my court as it is. Hell, he only allows it because he knows the other kingdoms of Albion will sanction him more heavily than they do today if he initiates military aggression. But if we 'kidnap' Morgana," Cenred continued, "we'd suddenly be the bad guys. He'd have a legal reason to attack, and they wouldn't stop him."

"You are, of course, right," Nimueh agreed, sombre. "We can't afford all-out war. Even with our allies, the cost on both sides would be too great. Our previous plans of a coup at the right time will have to continue regardless. But that time is not now. Arthur is still too firmly in Uther's grasp to fulfil Vivienne's prophecy."

"That still doesn't provide us with an answer as to what we do about Morgana," Morgause, the third leader of the Opposition, said. She was the one who'd managed to secure them a base at Cenred's castle back in the day. "Magic runs strong in our family's blood and Morgana's powers are going to grow considerably now they have surfaced."

"While her eventual exposure is unavoidable, it could potentially prove fatal if it happens before Arthur's won over, indeed," Nimueh said, tapping her chin, presumably in deep thought. "She must learn to control it then."

"And how do we do that?" Morgause asked, golden eyebrow arching in a sneer. "I don't exactly trust the Resistance."

She was met with huffs of contained amusement from Elyan, Cenred, and Emrys. No, they didn't trust the Resistance. While their goal of dethroning Uther was similar, their methods were quite different. Occasionally, they worked together on a project, but distrust between the two groups was a wall not easily breached.

Nimueh's lips curled into a smile that couldn't mean good things. "There's no need to involve the Resistance, no. Instead I think it's time for the two halves of Vivienne's prophecy to meet each other." She turned in her chair to look at her ward, throwing one arm over the backrest while the other rested on the table, a picture of carefully presented openness. "What do you say, Emrys?"

Emrys blinked, a piece of toast halfway to his mouth. "You want me to go to Camelot?"

"Sooner or later you will have to meet Arthur," Nimueh stated. "It might as well be sooner. Your meeting may be able to turn his beliefs to our advantage, but even if it doesn't, Morgana desperately needs a teacher who'll be able to help her control the immense power of a high priestess to-be. Ideally, a high priest or a high priestess should teach her, but we will have to wait with the religious rites until Uther's dead. You're the next best thing, stronger even." It was said with the sort of fondness that could only come from immense pride, punctuated by the pleased smile she wore. "Even if caught, I have no doubts you'd be able to make a spectacular escape."

Elyan nodded thoughtfully. "Your blood relation to Gaius could be a way in," he said. "Uther's trust in Gaius is hard-earned, but to our advantage. And Uther has a weak spot for family. He wouldn't question it if Gaius' great nephew, his only blood relation in Albion, came to live with him at the castle. It would give you a perfect reason to be close to Morgana. Make friends with Gwen and you'll automatically be considered a friend of Morgana to outsiders. And if Cenred's men have done their job, your father will not show up in your file," he finished, throwing a pointed glance towards their host.

Cenred scoffed, crossing his arms. "Balinor was never even written in. He didn't exactly see eye to eye with my father. The father of Hunith's child is marked as unknown."

"Excellent," Nimueh said, turning back to Emrys with an expectant smile. "Then, if you're willing, we'll send you to Camelot."

"Well…uhm." Emrys chewed on the inside of his cheek.

Elyan couldn't know what he was thinking, but he did seem slightly uncertain. He glanced around the room, seemingly searching for an answer. First his eyes fell on Cenred, then on Elyan, who nodded slightly to show his support. At last his gaze fell on Morgause, who was practically staring him down. Pleading, perhaps, would be a better word, except Morgause didn't plead.

Emrys turned back to Nimueh, shrugging. "I suppose I could do it."

Author's note: So... I hope you enjoyed it so far? I already have a lot written, so updates should come at a regular pace for the time being.