Destiny Begins

by Milui Elenath

Chapter Six

What little energy Morgana had regained in the taxi was now expended as she entered Merlin's home. In hindsight she realised that she should have urged Merlin to spell the driver instead of drawing on what magic she had left but then Merlin was not much better off. Through the magical bond she could feel his exhaustion as much as her own and this was confirmed as she watched him collapse into a chair even as the aging spell dissipated. She was glad to see him young, it still disturbed her to see him as old Emrys even if they were one and the same person.

Morgana had instinctively bypassed the single chair that Merlin now occupied and instead aimed for the chaise that was shoved against the wall. She sank into it without disturbing the papers that were piled on one end.

Merlin's home was pleasant enough, very much him but she was in no mood to offer polite observations. She was not only exhausted but irritated by Merlin's moods and recriminations. She understood. She did. She knew what she had done to him. She knew that he had every reason to hate her and that any regrets she expressed would not change his opinion of her but she did not think that he accepted that she was entitled to feel the same about him. He thought himself faultless in all that he did. Perhaps that was what irked her the most or was it that she felt sadness rather than anger that what had passed between them could not ever be forgotten or forgiven?

She watched as Merlin breathed a couple of deep breaths, already starting to regain some strength. He opened his eyes and stared straight into hers.

She braced herself, everything suddenly tense, convinced Merlin was going to start peppering her with questions about the past but she wasn't ready to answer them. She'd only been half truthful when she said she had no objection to answering him. There was so much she wanted to say, to confess, to shout but some things she wanted to - no, had to hide. She was too weary for a battle of wits. Could not Merlin allow them a few moments of truce?

Merlin leant forward to speak, then suddenly, hesitated. "Do you want anything? Water, tea?"

Morgana was taken aback. She read it in his face, he wasn't ready to ask the questions either, or, perhaps wasn't ready for the answers. "Some water would be lovely but only if you're really up for it, Merlin."

He nodded just the once as he stood. He returned a moment later and handed her the glass.

"Thank you," Morgana said.

Merlin returned to his chair drinking a glass of his own.

"I mean that Merlin," she said, "not just for the water. I am grateful for what you have done and I know you had every reason not to help me."

Merlin waved her off. "Let's not Morgana, let's not rehash the past."

He spoke it but Morgan felt the wound in her side squirm.

Merlin frowned. "Has it always been this bad?"

"No," Morgana shook her head cursing the bond that let him in on her pain. She had known at their joining that there was only so long she could fight Merlin from discovering the truth about it. She dreaded to think what he might do. He could not be allowed to have that knowledge until after she persuaded him to see Aithusa, after that, it would be too late. "It comes and goes." She answered, "Aithusa helps."

"Of course!" Merlin said. "I see."

He had come to some sort of conclusion but Morgana didn't think it likely to be correct.

She waited for him to ask more, hoped that he might ask her something about Aithusa and give her anything that might help in ensuring his compliance with her plans but he said nothing. Had his desire to see Aithusa been fleeting?

Finally, he cleared his throat. "I got your things, from your tent, so you'd have clothes and stuff. I put them upstairs."

"That was thoughtful of you." She could not think of what else to say.

After a moment of awkward silence, he took to his feet. "I better call the hospital, keep up the pretence."

Morgana nodded. She listened as he asked about her to the hospital's reception, Merlin mouthed that he was on hold and they waited in silence. Finally, she heard Merlin voice his dismay that 'Anna' had left the hospital. He did a fair job of sounding outraged and concerned, he was not over the top, not too dismissive and Morgana frowned knowing remembering that she had been on the end of Merlin's lies. Merlin reasserted his concern that this could happen, finishing with an agreement that it was very serious that she had left against medical advice and that he would urge 'Anna' to return if and when he saw her again.

"They might send the police." Morgana told him as he hung up the phone, "I was an involuntary patient once before."

Merlin sighed. "Yeah, will deal with that if it happens. If all else fails I can put a confusion spell on my home so no one can find it."

Morgana fiddled with her water cup as she swallowed the last of it in an attempt to hold back tears. She understood how much he was risking in this, his whole established life here could be ruined. He was as confusing as ever, one moment simmering with irritation, then offering kindness and pragmatism.

"You ought to rest," he said quietly, "If you think you can make it upstairs?"

Morgana nodded. She'd find the strength, anything to get away from the gentle blue eyes that cut her to pieces and then pitied her for it.

"But we should stop the power-sharing first." Morgana reminded Merlin.

"Do you think you should?" Merlin asked. "Don't you think we should wait until you've regained more strength?"

"I'll be fine," she said firmly.

"You say that," he argued, "but I can feel how weak you are. I think it is too risky to break my magic off. You should use this time to heal more. If I stop the flow of magic from myself we'll still be partially bonded anyway, unable to part each other's company completely until our magic has equalised and we'll still have some residual power-sharing."

Morgana huffed. "I told you I didn't care about you gaining knowledge of my spells." It was true, her worries lay with hiding the true nature of the wound from Merlin and all its implications. Besides, she thought dismissively, Merlin was the greater sorcerer of the two of them. If anyone should be guarding knowledge it was him -.

Oh my!

It was like an unexpected thunderclap. How had she not thought of it! Could she get what she needed from him without leading him to Aithusa? Could she use the bond to scour his mind and his powers? It would have to be when he slept. Getting away from him after, that could be a problem unless she had enough energy to pay him back –if she did so too soon it could kill her but it would be worth the risk and time was of the essence. "Perhaps you're right though," she conceded demurely, "about the risk. Maybe I should wait until tomorrow."

"I think it's best," Merlin said.

Morgana turned away from the eyes that held hers. They invited trust, they promised help but it was a cruel lie. If he ever got the answers to all his questions, he would oppose her and use his dragonlord powers on Aithusa. She couldn't take that chance. She'd try and get the knowledge from him tonight and only take him to Aithusa if she had to.

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It was stuffy in the spare room, Merlin thought as he lay against its bed. He had made the right choice in putting Morgana in his room which got a breeze and where she would hopefully be comfortable enough in the larger bed. Somehow, he'd not been able to think of putting the lady Morgana in conditions that were less than her previous station would have expected. It was stupid, he thought, for she had probably slept in worse places and it was the 21st century and he was no longer anyone's servant and his room was nothing special but there it was just the same, some sort of misplaced chivalry. Of course, her wound did lend a certain sympathy . . . or guilt.

He stared at the ceiling, his thoughts practically vibrating now that he had a moment to himself. Why didn't you ask her about Aithusa? Why had Aithusa never answered his call? Why hadn't he asked Morgana about her own death or lack of? His blood pummelled against his skin and he felt ill. Was Morgana like him? Was that it? If so, did she know that? There was so much he should have asked but he'd hesitated, terrified of the answers. There would be time tomorrow for questions, the magical bond had assured him of that. He just wasn't sure he could find the courage to ask them. What if the answers were useless to him?

His head had begun to throb. He didn't usually get headaches it was not something he'd ever suffered from. He wondered if Morgana still had them, he could sense that she was still at the moment, her magic at rest, slowly, very slowly building and it occurred to him that if he could sense her then his agitation could also be detected by her. He made a conscious effort to calm down.

The pressure in his head seemed to be making it harder for him to think, his jaw ached and his eyes had trouble making out the ceiling. He closed them.

There was a flash of sudden light, so bright that it whited out all he could see. Darkness crept in at the sides revealing a still dazzling white shape, a pale dragon's face. It was Aithusa.

Her gaze was imploring, her magnificent eyes were all he could see clearly, and her body seemed to stretch behind her as if it were unattached or insignificant Her face was the only thing that he beheld in her eyes tears welled and fell. Fell, fell, fell but it did not splash before the tears and the eyes were those of Morgana, grieved and angry.

She was shouting, turning from him, running out of a cave and by its opening he saw gorse flowers in bloom. Another image flashed, it was a grave. The sky had darkened, there was a village, a graveyard and people huddled around a fresh grave. The headstone was inscribed and Merlin saw that it read Anna Emrys.

The image dissolved once more to yet another and in an instant, he saw himself as one sees a reflection. He stood at the base of Glastonbury Tor, giving an anguished cry, all around him the Earth was desolate and dead. All things were devoid of life and Merlin alone in it lived on. He was reminded of the Fisherking, sitting alone in his decaying realm but there was no one coming to save Merlin, there was not a soul left alive to set him free.

Merlin's eyes shot open and a protesting cry was on his lips as he sat up in bed, sweat on his forehead. There was a sound at the door, a figure casting a shadow.

"Merlin, are you alright. I heard you cry out."

It was Morgana, his brain concluded, of course it was, she was staying here.

"Merlin?" she said again.

Merlin ran his shaking hands through his hair getting only halfway before clasping his head as if to remove the images he had seen.

"You had a vision!" Morgana gasped, she had moved closer now and was sitting on his bed suddenly all concern. "I'm so sorry. I never considered that you might suffer my seer's power."

"It wasn't a vision!" Merlin insisted alarmed. He pulled back the covers and took to his feet. "It wasn't a vision," he repeated. "Just a nightmare, a nightmare. I must have fallen asleep."

Only he hadn't. He knew he hadn't.

Morgana ignored his assertion, she looked alarmed. "What did you see Merlin?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Merlin looked away from those green eyes, the same eyes he'd seen filled with tears in the vision. He paced the room.

"Sorry, I know I never wanted to talk about it," Morgana said, "at least, not at first."

Merlin was barely aware that she had spoken, he kept seeing the last image of his vision. Himself alone, utterly.

"Would you prefer I go?" Morgana asked tentatively.

Merlin panicked at the idea but found he was too full of emotion to voice an answer and so he simply shook his head.

She seemed to understand and stayed where she was, sitting primly or coldly or indifferent. Merlin in his agitated state didn't know but she sat there with him and for that he was grateful. He rubbed his arms feeling frightfully cold. "I've tried to die you know." It came bubbling out of him, the broken silence surprising even himself.

Morgana didn't respond. She was there, he knew, listening, waiting patiently as he laid his weakness before her but what did it matter now?

"Many times," he continued. "Poison, wounds, spells - electrocution when that became a thing, amulets, drowning, some things unintentionally by others hands but I always wake, days or hours later. I haven't tried everything of course. I wouldn't want to lose a limb and I've been careful about where it happens – I didn't want to wake up buried alive for eternity or being eaten by wild animals but I can't . . I can't die. What does it mean Morgana? What does it mean? Why can't I die?" He finally raised his eyes to her.

"I don't know." She sat still, arms folded in her lap but her eyes were glistening and pitying.

Merlin found it unnerved him further. He wasn't sure what he'd expected or wanted from her but he had not prepared himself for compassion.

"No one does," he lamented, choking back emotion. He turned from her hastily wiping his tears but she had crossed the room and startlingly took his hands.

Her hands felt warm and they held his so tenderly and those green eyes of hers continued to offer commiseration. For one terrible moment he hoped she would throw her arms around him instead of standing there distantly but she couldn't, wouldn't take that risk with him even if she felt some desire to. Not when he had so rejected her in the past. Not after all that had happened between them. And he couldn't take her in his arms, couldn't have clung to her as if she was something vital and alive. Pride wouldn't allow it. Pride and fear as his hands trembled against hers.

"Maybe," she ventured hesitantly, "maybe Aithusa has the answers. She knows a great deal from her memories of the ancient dragons."

"Aithusa," Merlin repeated dazedly, "How could she have the answers?" Merlin said.

"Genetic memory. All dragons have it, that is why their knowledge is so vast. I will take you to see her."

The memory of the white dragon and her tears falling to the earth filled Merlin's mind. "No!" He shied away from Morgana. "I can't see Aithusa. I won't."

"Why not?" Morgana was suddenly angry.

Angry like she had been in the vision. Merlin felt ill.

"You saw her didn't you," Morgana said, coming to her own conclusion and seemingly greatly affected. "In your vision. You saw her and she died, didn't she? She died!" Morgana folded her arms over herself and moaned. "But you can stop that Merlin. You can help her. You're a dragonlord. You've got to help her!" She came forward again her entire manner pleading.

Merlin was suddenly attentive. "What are you talking about Morgana. How can I help her? Why would I need to?"

"Aithusa is sick, not just sick but dying. I came here to find you, to see if I could make you come back with me to heal her. To see if you were still harbouring ill will or if you could be trusted. How much you knew about –," She broke off, "to see if you would be willing to help."

Merlin stared at Morgana, wringing her hands. Aithusa was dying? What did this all mean? His vision of the future had shown him Aithusa shedding tears, no sign of her being ill, nor her death but Morgana's news didn't improve things. What she said could still be true. The images or events he had seen did not seem to be related to one another, at least not on the surface but past experience had taught him otherwise. Anytime he had such visions forced upon him they had gone exactly as he had seen them, events playing in some order and worst of all he usually had been the cause of the events unfolding the way they did.

He felt that seeing Aithusa might be the catalyst for Morgana's death which would then lead to him living on and on in a world that he would eventually outlive. Merlin sat heavily back on the bed, head in hands. Not that the horror of living forever hadn't already occurred to him but he had supposed, until now, that Arthur would return and somehow that might change things.

Morgana knelt beside him. "You told me yourself that you are a dragonlord, charged with their care. Don't you have a responsibility to help Aithusa?"

"You don't understand, the things I saw." Merlin agonised. "The vision, all of it began with Aithusa."

Morgana did not miss a beat. "Then that is where you must start to change things, with Aithusa. With helping her, with healing her."

Merlin shook his head. "You don't even know what I saw."

"Then tell me," Morgana urged. Her tone was gentle but Merlin detected that she was fearful too. Her body was rigid as if preparing herself for a blow.

Merlin thought of the gravestone he had seen, with Morgana's alias name on it. He had not processed the images much beyond the final horror and was unable to begin to understand how Morgana's death made him feel, let alone relaying it to her. He dropped his eyes, "I can't."

"Listen to me Merlin," Morgana said gently, "seers were taught long ago that visions are only given when there is a chance to change things."

Merlin shook his head despondently. "I've tried to change things before Morgana but everything I see comes to pass no matter how I try to prevent it."

"Then you didn't try hard enough." She was firm.

Merlin shook his head. "I tried, believe me, I tried! I tried to keep Arthur alive, to stop you, to stop Mordred – the only time I was successful was saving Arthur from being drowned by the Sidhe and I didn't have that vision – you did. Sometimes the things I did seem to cause it to happen. I can't risk it."

Morgana paused a moment. "The Sidhe?" She shivered. "I remember that vision, that girl – that happened?" She came back to the moment and then shook her head. "It took me a long time to know it Merlin but visions are not to be feared. They are what could be, not what will be."

"I'm telling you that hasn't been my experience, Morgana." He maintained. "Everything I see comes to pass, no matter what I did to prevent it."

"Then you didn't make the right choices," Morgana said harshly, getting to her feet. "What you see, what comes to pass is what will happen if you remain on the same path. Whether it is your actions or your attitude. If you see things that you wish to change then you must be open to taking a different path than the one you might have chosen before the vision."

Morgana's voice was almost eldritch with her instruction. A true seer, Merlin supposed. Still, prophecy had done him no favours. It had only ever caused him pain. . . as had Morgana. She was awfully free with her information about the visions and this was the first time he'd had any hint of Aithusa requiring his help.

Merlin stood. "How can I believe you Morgana? When we first met you weren't going to tell me where Aithusa was, now you say she's dying. I thought you were against me seeing her. Now you tell me that you wanted me to go to her all along."

Morgana huffed. "I explained that. I wasn't sure if you'd harm her."

Merlin felt his anger increasing at the insinuation. "Why are you so convinced I would do something to harm Aithusa?"

Morgana shifted uneasily and took longer than necessary to answer. "You, she, us, we don't have the greatest history."

Merlin watched the way her eyes darted away from his. "There's something you're not saying."

"Don't be ridiculous." She lifted her chin haughtily.

He hated when she did that, it meant she was going to stubbornly fight admitting anything. "Yes you do," he asserted. "I'm tired of lies Morgana, if you can't tell me what you are hiding then I'm certainly not going anywhere."

Her brows dipped and she shook her head. "What about Aithusa? She needs your help."

"I only have your word for that," he snapped back. She had told too many lies for him to take anything for granted.

Morgana took a step back genuinely shocked. "I'm telling you the truth!"

Merlin looked at her coldly. "You're not telling me everything."

"I've told you everything that matters," she insisted.

He was not going to be taken for a fool. "There's always an angle with you Morgana isn't there? Some secret purpose."

Her jaw set and her chin tilted. "I wasn't the one with secrets Emrys!"

Her implication was obvious. Merlin gritted his teeth; this was getting him nowhere. "I'm going downstairs." He stomped out of the room without looking back.

How he was going to put up with that deceitful woman until they could break this magical bond he didn't know! He darkly wondered if killing her while it was still in place would finally do himself in. Could it be that was 'the other path' he needed to take to avoid the future? He thought that it would be rather ironic if the advice Morgana had given him lead to their deaths. Poetic even.

You don't mean that Merlin, Gwen's warm voice scolded him within his mind. It's been a long day and you're tired. Besides, I know you. You couldn't kill her just so you can die and not when Arthur has told you that you have to set things right.

"Arthur didn't tell me that," Merlin thought back. "Arthur was a figment of my imagination, a spectre conjured by madness. My madness." Merlin swallowed hard. "He's never coming back Gwen and the vision proves it."

Gwen was silent.

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