Can You Ever Forgive Me

One of her visions from her past life resurfaces. She knows the body is younger of the Lady Morgana compared to herself now. The sound of chaos within the city limits is audible from within the castle. It's one of the first times that the Lady Morgana sheds her usual vibrant colors of court to a dark hue. Uther remains alone in the throne room and is surprised that she's made it past his guards. And from the shadows emerges Morgause. Morgause has long wavy dark blonde hair and her eyes are sunken in and grey.

"Morgana, get away from her! She's a demon!" Uther shouts. He stood up, ready to draw his sword to protect the Lady Morgana.

Morgause coyly laughs as she wraps her arms around the Lady Morgana lovingly.

"She's my sister," Morgana smiled cheekily.

The sword thuds against the floor. Morgause releases her hold of the Lady Morgana and steps closer to Uther with a bit of swagger in her step.

"Now hand over the crown," Morgause said. "The daughter of Vivianne deserves it."

"Vivianne's daughter... yes that makes sense," Uther muses darkly. "But that does not mean you have a claim on the throne!"

"I do," Morgana said softly.

The two of them look at her. The realization is settling in Uther's mind.

"Morgana, please, I beg of you," Uther pleaded.

Morgana's eyes glowed and she waved her hand. Uther's body was flung against a pillar and he collapsed releasing a groan. She walked towards him as if she was swimming. The Lady Morgana crouched in front of him, resting her elbow on her knee. He looked at her in horror.

"If she's a demon, so am I," she said coldly.

"You must realize Arthur is your brother, please," he continued. "Please think of him."

"I am your first born. He means nothing to me. You hid the truth from me."

She stood up and tore the crown off his head. Soldiers in black steel entered the room.

"Take him to the dungeons," the Lady Morgana spoke.

/

Morgana woke up from the dream. She wonders if she will allow herself to give into the darkness she knows has always been apart of her the same way the Lady Morgana gave into it. Morgana knows she's never wanted power for herself. She'd been content being the station of advisor to Morgause in her political career, and she felt more comfortable managing what happened behind the scenes than being the one in the spotlight. Her throat feels tight as if it wants to close in on itself and her heart feels a pang before it spreads to her heart in an electric wave. The window blew open allowing a gust of wind in.

It's daylight.

She remembers the night before when Merlin appeared to be flirting and entertaining Freya at the bar. Her eyes stared up at the ceiling. He has to love her, he has to, he has to love her as she is. Without him, and with Gwen and Arthur gone, she knows she will give into her dark side. The terrifying thing is... she ponders it. She wonders how much more power she could have if she allowed herself into the dark arts. She'd kill Morgause in revenge for her father. She'd probably try to kill Merlin himself, or trap him in a tree, if it meant that she could protect Arthur from him. Her nose crinkles as if she were to sneer. Perhaps revenge for disloyalty. And the pain in her heart flares across her chest again.

She cannot allow herself to think of Merlin negatively. He's never given her a consistent reason, or a very good problematic reason, as to why she should distrust him. He'd given her her memories back knowing the risk of how she could feel about him. And she cannot allow herself to abandon all hope, all ideas of goodness she's clung onto for all these years. There has to be a good firm answer for what she saw last night. Something wants to come up but she chokes it back down.

The door was locked when he came back home, stumbling drunk. He respected that and slept in his spare bedroom instead.

His morning started with him taking off his shirt he'd slept in from an accumulation of sweat that was unbearable with the heat. And he went into his study, not particularly sure why. Then he saw the disarray of books and the cleverly concealed box had been opened. His eyes widened in horror. He hadn't known what was in the box necessarily but there was such a strange unnerving aura from it. Although it was addressed to Morgana it seemed to be very odd. And he saw books had been thrown from their shelves in a certain direction. He knelt down and saw a black orb. It felt like darkness. An embodiment of the void. Something that should not exist. He picked it up carefully. There was no power in it left, just the lingering darkness. And shards fell onto his hand as he spotted a deep gash in the orb.

His heart started pounding. He wasn't sure what the magical properties of this orb were, but it radiated negative energy. And he focused his power into the orb so that it would turn into dust. Into dust it turned leaving a silvery powdery substance left in his hands.

Merlin walked down the stairs and focused on making himself a coffee. He kept looking up at the stairs wondering when Morgana would be down. Guilt wracks him. He had meant to tell her earlier, it just never came out right. Gwaine pestered him, making a joke about how this would probably be allowed to throwing a bachelor party, and then the time was growing too close that he gave up and left. She looked at him so hurt and betrayed.

He thought of the time he almost killed her.

There were light footsteps coming down the stairs. He pulled her mug from the cupboard.

"Do you want me to make you some coffee?" he shouted.

She didn't respond.

He closed the cupboard and looked over. Morgana stood at the bottom of the stairs wearing a long grey skirt and a bright azure colored tank top, a jacket was nestled on her arm and her small backpack hung off her. His hand abandoned the mug and he walked over to her. Her normally bright colored eyes looked grey.

"Morgana, what's wrong?" he asked her softly.

"I just need some space," she said. "Not for forever, just. Just for the day. Maybe. Most likely."

She looked so pained with a smile as she forced it out. Something was wrong.

"Tell me, please," he begged.

Morgana looked away from him. He put his hand on her shoulder.

"There was an object, a sort of orb," she forced out. "I know you hid it from me. I know Morgause sent it. I don't know how she found me. But it showed you." She looked at him and the betrayal was splashed across her face. "It showed me you with Freya. And you didn't mind that she was coming onto you! Knowing you were with me! Did you even remember me?" Her eyes were watering despite her harsh tone. "It looked like she was about to kiss you and I destroyed it. I destroyed the damn thing."

He could feel her magic eating away at her heart because he could feel it in his own.

"I didn't kiss Freya, and she didn't kiss me either," he admitted.

She looked up at him, wanting to accept this as truth.

"But she did lean into my ear to tell me something," Merlin said. Shut up! He shouldn't tell Morgana!

"What did she... say?" Morgana asked.

"She said that when she saw you. She said that she saw that you would bring darkness."

Morgana jerked her shoulder out of his grip. A cold expression on her face. And the coldness was just as immediately replaced by fear and anxiety. She gripped her hair in the way she did when she was frustrated.

"I'm not leaving you," he said. "She doesn't even remember her past life that well. If at all."

"Her past life! Oh yes, the woman that was cursed to be a hideous beast at nightfall. And you loved her," Morgana said. A wickedness he'd never seen before in her came through. "You wanted so badly to run away with her, and I, the Lady Morgana, almost helped! She loved you! You broke her heart!"

Her face scrunched as he saw her about to cry.

"You broke her heart long before she went dark," Morgana choked.

"I'm not leaving you. I'm not leaving you in this lifetime!" he snapped. "Please, please Morgana. Just stay. I beg you."

Her shoulders seemed to relax even as she kept a defensive stance against him.

"Freya's good in this lifetime. She has no curse hanging over her. She's good and she's pure and she's innocent," Morgana said bitterly. "I'll see you in the next life."

She ran out the door and he chased after her. But he saw her wave her hand and she turned invisible in front of him. Mordred ran to his side, tired as well. He looked down at the cat whom promptly hissed at him.

"What have I done?" he asked the cat.

Mordred circled around before hanging his head in a sitting position. Merlin carried him home.

Her leg gave out as she neared the station and her glamour faded. It was more of her upper thigh. Still, it was a strange feeling. And she allowed herself to pant unpleasantly. Her heart sunk as she remembered that she'd forgotten Mordred. She trusted Merlin to take care of him. Everything about her body and her magic felt unnerving. Did it even belong to her? Someone pushed her and she realized she'd have to make a choice. So she put her head up, ignored the searing pain in her leg, and walked into the tube.

She didn't know where she was going. Not really. Morgause was an enemy. She'd already decided on not going back to Merlin's. Her home was likely being watched by Morgause. Arthur had sold his flat long ago. She decided to go to the library, but not Merlin's library. And she got off the train, although aware she was far from where she needed to be but she hadn't taken a different train closer to the library.

Her stomach growled. She strayed into a coffee shop, taking a scone with her coffee. And she sat by the window, eating this sad excuse of a breakfast. Then with a sigh she left.

The library loomed over her and the security guards looked at her with suspicion. She made her way to the top floor. Then she went upon her mission. She gathered as many books as she could on Arthurian lore and placed them on a wide table that went empty until her. Anything that was related to King Arthur made it onto the table. She skimmed through them, looking for how they ended up placing the Lady Morgana. There had to be something, anything, that proved that the Lady Morgana didn't have to be evil. It was a fictional character. A piece of lore. She knew what had happened to the real Lady Morgana of her first life. But she needed the reassurance that fate wasn't binding and that there was hope that she could remain good.

The best sources made Morgan Le Fay to be a sort of estranged half-sister of Arthur who took him to Avalon when dying. Comparable to Lady of the Lake with little backing. And it seemed to align Morgan Le Fay with Morgause, sometimes interchangable on the wickedness. Then it seemed as if all of her sources wanted to make Morgan Le Fay a wicked seductress of Arthur's Knights with malevolent motives and evil. Her eyes were swimming and she closed the last book in her hands. Neutrality seemed to be her best fate if she hoped to accomplish it.

She stood up and started to put the books on the nearest cart of books. It would be better for the library to see what books were being pulled out rather than trying to aimlessly wander in an effort to put them back herself. The last pile of books was in her hands and one that was significantly heavy (at least two books were above seven hundred pages). Then her foot swung around her ankle on the flat ground and she tripped with the books spilling out of her hands. As she fell, she just didn't want the books to have any pages bent. Her palms caught her, and she sat up, annoyed. Then she went to pick up the fallen books embarrassed. Another hand went for an edition of TH White.

"I'm sorry that was," she said quickly.

Morgana stood up with her books and came face to face with an older man who resembled somewhere between Horace Slughorn and the professor in Narnia.

"Arthurian legend?" He asked.

"Erm yes," Morgana said. All sense of cognitive function left her brain.

"Not an usual choice. White isn't necessarily my favorite for the lore."

"Thank you for helping pick up my book. Trip over thin air."

"Not at all. Might I inquire as to your interest in the legend?"

"Just um Morgana or Morgan Le Fay and the demonization of powerful women. I just wanted to see if there was anything that said otherwise."

He put the copy of TH White down on the cart before she put her own books on top of it.

"I hope you found or are closer to finding what you were seeking," he said. "Personally, I think the lore does a disservice to the complexities of Morgana Le Fay."

"Thank you."

She watched as he turned and continued on whatever path he had initially been set on. The last of the sunlight was fading. Her hand clung to the railing of the stairwell as she descended. When she walked out the smell of fresh air and rain stung her nose.

When I see you with her, I just see darkness around her. She will bring darkness.

Freya's drunken words haunted him. She wasn't particularly magical or spiritual, yet the words rocked him.

He sat on the couch with Mordred curling up on his legs. Both of them wallowed in a sort of depressive state after Morgana's abrupt departure. Mordred seemed moodier than ever. Merlin wondered if the cat felt as if he had been abandoned as well. And then his small black head perked up and his ears started to swerve. The doorbell rang and the two of them ran for it. He opened the door.

Morgana stood in front of him with her arms holding her and a pained expression. He didn't dare say anything first. She grabbed at her throat for a second and seemingly caught herself before her hand lowered and clutched at the dragon pendant.

"I'm sorry, about this morning," she said. "And, and I felt as if I needed to leave. I don't even think it was really about you. You didn't do anything wrong. And... and I'm so sorry. I just, everything felt so intense and I... I shouldn't have lashed out the way I did. There's... quite a number of things I shouldn't have done. I don't know if you'll ever forgive me for how I acted and what I said. I just come here to apologize for what it's worth. I don't know if if you'll take me back, and. I don't know. I just... I love you with everything I have, Merlin. But if you would rather..."

He cut her off and pulled her into an embrace. He could hear her trying to hold back sniffles and tears. She allowed herself to relax into him and hold onto him just as tight.

"I forgive you," he said. "I'll always forgive you. I love you."

And they stayed like that for what felt like hours even if it was only minutes. He could feel a wet patch forming on his shoulder from her tears. He didn't mind. It didn't matter now. She was back and she was safe.

Then she pulled away and dried her tears with the end of the sleeve of her cardigan.

"I don't know what I'm doing," she cried with a smile.

"Do you want to grab something to eat or just stay in?" he asked cautiously.

"We can go out. That's fine."

Her eyes were still wet but she tried her hardest to keep a wide smile on her face and her hands were crossed together in front of her. He stepped back into his flat and grabbed his coat before closing the door. His hand flitted in the air behind her back before he allowed himself to put his arm across her shoulder.

She seemed more relaxed as she dug into the burger the waiter placed in front of her. He picked at his food, a nearly impossible task. Morgana was back and that was all that mattered. He didn't press about where she had been. She trusted him enough to come back.

Morgana held his hand as they walked back to his flat. A sort of childish feeling captured him and he started swinging there hands lightly where Morgana laughed. He loved her laugh.

He put her cardigan on the coat rack before his own. A gasp escaped her lips. Merlin rushed over to her side. Her hands covered her face.

"What happened to your radio?" she asked. Her eyes went wide as she noticed the large flat screen mounted on the wall.

"Had to sell the radio to an antique dealer just because of spacing. Gwaine's friend was selling it and he helped put it up," Merlin responded.

"Oh but I loved that radio."

She seemed to shrug for no one in particular.

"Get yourself relaxed and then we'll find something to watch together," he said. "Sound good?"

Morgana nodded and he kissed her forehead before she went upstairs.

They ended up watching Friends at Morgana's insistence. Although he'd been in America for a while in the nineties he'd never really caught onto any of the fads. His pick had been the Thick of It with Peter Capaldi, but abandoned it in favor of Morgana. She curled up next to him wearing one of his fishermen jumpers and lounge shorts.

She'd fallen asleep and he carried her up the stairs. He could hear the patter of Mordred's paws just behind him. A small groan escaped her as he put her on the bed. She forced her eyes to open as he stood above her.

"You'll sleep with me tonight?" she asked, her voice soft.

"Of course, Morgana," he said.

He closed the drapes of the window and pulled himself into bed. Shortly after, Morgana seemed to jilt over to him and her arm was across his chest.

Authors Notes: So, clearly some liberties taken with the flash back. I also thought it would be fun to pick at Morgana's brain and psychology with the ever looming possibility of being dark like her predecessor and other characters believing she could be. I did not want the angst to drag out so yeah kinda got tricky with deescalating that. I hope you guys enjoyed it.