Hi guys, today I bring Morgana's memories chapter! I thought it could be a good idea to bring another. As you can see, I will bring someone once a week or in two weeks ore or less. It depends if I have things to do. I have to do also the other story, so I have not enough time. Thanks for some of the reviews you sent. I can not answer, I don't know why (I have today read your reviews, finally. The reviews take long to send, or I cannot see them at the moment of sending, I don't know why). Well, I hope you like this chapter.

I'm not own from Merlin.

Morgana entered the sinister and dreary room of her castle. She looked nothing like the one she had remembered in her memories. In her room, there was neither color nor good smell, nor was it tidy, nor clean, nor was it pretty... it was nothing. For her, her room had been a place in recent years where at night you would throw yourself in the ragged and smelly bed, stand behind the sheets, and where the next day you would wake up with the great pleasure of hating people.

Yes, it was nothing compared to the room she had had in Camelot, which had been a refuge and a good home for her. She reminded Gwen, who was her maid (and something else, although at the time she didn't want to admit it) and who helped her with everything in her room.

Yes, things had changed a lot, and she hadn't even noticed. Time had flown by, and with it its atmosphere and its things, to put it mildly, too. And that's without thinking that about seven years ago she was still in Camelot with a big-eared and clumsy servant as a friend, a maid as a good counselor, and a prince to flirt with. But now that she has thought about it, she has never had many friends. Not now (now she didn't even imagine it. All the Saxons she was allied with were neither friends nor much less. In fact, she had to say it, she abhorred them. She only used them for his number and strength to attack Camelot, not for other things). She had always been a pretty figure to look at. Nothing more useful than for that: to be looked at. And while it was true that she used it to win things, like jewelry or dresses, or the attention and stunning of the men, she had never felt really good.

And that, she had to admit, changed it when she met Merlin. She hated to say this, for now, that she knew that Merlin was Emrys, the almighty sorcerer who was destined to kill her and that she had been with her as a friend for a few years in Camelot peacefully (and even saw him as more than one friend, she had to acknowledge, although she did not know if he had felt the same way at the time), but it was true that he was the reason she changed at the time.

And not only did she change for the better, but so did Arthur. Arthur, the super wonderful prince, muscular, young, fibrous, and chivalrous, but, above all, arrogant and selfish, had changed over the months in which she had lived peacefully in Camelot. And now that she thought about it, that change turned out to start right at the time Merlin came to Camelot. And evidently, she knew that the useless and clumsy servant had done that. All that. What seemed impossible to achieve, a servant had succeeded, apparently without problems. What do you mean, only one servant! The sorcerer Emrys himself, doing the task of changing Arthur (and her at the time, though he then decided the way to poison her to break everything he had built on her)!

Yes, that didn't seem to be a task of the best sorcerer on earth. No, whenever she had heard the stories that spoke of the sorcerer Emrys and his prophecies (when she was a child, in the house of Gorlois, her real father), she had imagined a middle-aged man, big and strong, with a cane in his hand, and throwing rays, moving the ocean, summoning storms... No, there was something wrong with all this. Something important had to happen if a servant, who would be executed and burned in a heartbeat as soon as they suspected his magic, in no experience, young and naive, decided to befriend and protect with his life the prince of Camelot, the same son of the man who had no mercy in killing his own daughter for having uncontrollable magic.

Something must have been in all this that she wasn't quite understanding. She did not know much about Emrys' prophecies, but she knew perfectly well that his prophecies were linked to the prophecies of The Once and Future King, the king charged with uniting the kingdoms of Albion and freeing the magical people. Was it Arthur? Would that Arthur be the king of prophecies? No, this must have been a joke. But what else? What would Emrys be doing next to Arthur if not?

Morgana noticed her tidal and her legs wobbled and went straight to her black canopy bed. He lay down on it and looked at the ceiling, reconsidering about such information.

Sure, it made sense. That's why Merlin was always by his side. That's why a simple servant came out with nothing but scratches of the most dangerous adventures. That's why his friend had decided to sacrifice a friend's life for an arrogant prince and all his beloved Camelot. That's why he gave his life many times to protect Arthur.

Now it all made sense.

Morgana struck the pillow aggressively, squealing with rage. It had been like this the whole time. Merlin, the clumsy servant, was Emrys. Arthur, his arrogant brother, was the Once and Future. Anything else? What was she? Was she the enemy? And, realizing what she had said, she stopped banging, and bitter tears began to sprout from her eyes and fall down her cheeks.

Yes, she was the enemy.

Well, that it was. In the next chapter, you'll see more memories from the past, but I thought this was important to write. I don't know if i will make some regrets from Morgana in the story. I sincerely don't know if I will. Well, I hope you liked it. Tell me what you think. See you.

LegolasHV