A/N: Hello everyone! I'm gonna apologize once for my long, long delay. I was locked out of my FFN account for almost seven months, and today is my first day back in after finally getting it worked out. I updated on Archive of Our Own in the meantime, but now will be catching up this cross-post. Okay, now I'll get on with the story. :) Thank you all so much for every bit of support. It means a lot!

Summary: The soulmate words were seemingly the one form of magic Uther Pendragon could not best. Merlin has never wanted hers; they are sure to be a great deal of trouble on top of being a warlock. After all, soulmarks are a type of magic, and she has eight.

Spoilers for BBC's Merlin, Seasons One-Five

Warnings: Slight Angst, Multiple Canonical/Non-canonical Character Deaths

Chapter 14:

Merlin doesn't know how to feel about Arthur's readiness to tear his nice, clean red shirt without a second thought to bandage her arm. She decides on simultaneously slightly touched and slightly offended because she is going to have to mend that shirt, dammit.

"Did anyone else escape?" Arthur asks, tucking the ends of the cloth strip around her arm firmly.

Merlin shakes her head, surveying the prince's work with a keen eye. "Those knights…they seemed to be unstoppable. It's a miracle we managed to get away."

Arthur stands and lends a hand to pull her up. "We need to get back to Camelot, gather reinforcements."

There are no reinforcements, because everyone is asleep.

Everyone except Morgana.

"Don't worry, I won't say anything," Merlin says quietly. They are walking a good distance behind Arthur; he won't hear them from up ahead.

"About what?" Morgana is defensive.

That seems to be her default these days, Merlin realizes. Defensive. Cold, when she thinks no one is watching. Lonely, even when they are, sometimes. It's like she just can't help projecting that particular emotion.

"The illness," the warlock says belatedly.

"That has nothing to do with me." Morgana's barriers go up another notch or so.

"No, of course it doesn't, but you have magic," Merlin replies gently. "That must be what's kept you awake."

"You haven't told anyone that!" Morgana whirls on her, eyes blazing with fear. She is trying to look intimidating, but it doesn't work. She's too terrified.

"No. And I won't tell Arthur." Merlin's voice is reassuring, but her emotions do not match.

Something deep inside the servant weeps at the look in the witch's eyes. She has felt that too many times not to be sympathetic. Merlin remembers yet again how there was at least one moment when she was going to tell Morgana about her magic. How she later decided that perhaps the other girl was too much of a danger.

"Why?" Morgana demands, her voice cracking.

Merlin throws caution to the wind.

"Because…well," her own voice breaks. Moment of truth. "I have magic too, Morgana."

The king's ward draws back, her eyes wide. "No. You're—you must be lying."

"Why would I lie?"

"You've never mentioned that before!"

Merlin rubs her hand across her eyes. "It's not exactly a great conversation starter! 'Hello, Morgana, ward of the person who hates magic most in the entire world, did you know that I'm breaking the law by even existing? How are you?' I might have died!"

"I might have died," Morgana says softly, but violently. "Because I didn't know who I was, or what I was. Or how to control it."

"I know, and I'm sorry, but I just." Merlin swallows, and meets her friend's eyes. "I just couldn't. You know what that's like. But I'm telling you now, and if you want to…to tell Arthur, I guess you can. He's just around the next corner."

Morgana stares deep into Merlin's eyes for a few moments. Silence. Merlin prays to any powers that might be listening that she hasn't made the biggest (the last) mistake of her life.

Morgana surges forward and hugs her.

Merlin stumbles backward a half-step at the impact, breathless for a moment before she recovers enough to wrap her own arms around the other magic user.

"Thank you," Morgana whispers, voice trembling. "You don't know how much you've just done for me."

"I'm sorry it took so long to do," Merlin says, her throat tight. They would make a funny sight, if anyone was still awake to see them.

The king's ward, resplendent as always in one of her favorite green bejeweled dresses, embracing a servant in trousers and a worn jacket: to all appearances, totally different, but with more in common than anyone could suspect.

Morgana pulls back, her hands resting on Merlin's shoulders as she studies the other woman's face.

"Merlin, I think…I think I need to tell you something too."

"What are you two doing?! I thought you were right behind me!" Arthur appears around the corner.

"We, uh, we were just—" Merlin stammers, but Arthur cuts her off before she can get too far.

"It doesn't matter, just come on! I found my father."

They are dragging Uther through the castle, frantically heading for Arthur's chambers. The Knights are coming, and probably nothing could be worse. Merlin can't get advice from Gaius, who is asleep, or Kilgharrah, who is far away.

She has no idea how to fix any of this.

Uther makes a peculiar noise and then starts to snore.

Merlin can't help but grin.

"It is not funny, Merlin," Arthur snarls. "Did you find the potion you said Gaius must have given Morgana?"

"Er…no," she says. There is no potion, but they had to come up with some reason for why Morgana wasn't asleep.

They reach Arthur's chambers and Merlin and Morgana let go of Uther's legs, straightening with a groan.

A short debate and two pillows under the king's head later, Merlin heads off to find servants' clothes to disguise Uther. She feels tired, and Arthur does too. They are getting sick as well, and Merlin is not sure why. She expected it to catch up to Arthur at some point, but her too?

She has magic—magic more powerful than Morgana's. How could it be that Merlin is falling asleep when Morgana is not?

The warlock stops at Gaius's chambers again, frantically flipping through his magic books.

"Sleep spells, sleep spells…" she mutters, running her finger down one page after another. "Come on…yes!"

Magickal Enchantments of the Deathlyke Sleepe

To place those so desired in a sleepe akin to that of death, without truly hastening their demise requires power great indeede. To cast it is foole's play, but to sustain it is foolehardy. A vessel must be obtained, a living vessel which may give the spelle strength, and yet remain aparte from its effect. And if more than mere wordeplay is needed to fulfill the enchantment's potential, just so to break it and render it corrupte. The vessel and source of the magick must be destroyed.

Magickal Enchantments of the Waykeful Dreame

To rise to wakefulness those who would give much to sleepe…

The entry on sleep spells gives way to spells for permanent wakefulness spells.

Merlin goes back and scans the relevant entry again. "A vessel. A vessel…which may remain apart from the spell's effect. The vessel must be destroyed?"

She curses. But how does she know what the vessel is?

She doesn't have enough time to try and figure it out, so she stashes the book away. Merlin feels as though she's missing something, like she should know what the vessel is, but she doesn't. When something tells her to pocket an extra waterskin and a bottle of hemlock, she does it, just in case.

She sprints back through the castle to Arthur's rooms, hoping that maybe something will click.

There's always a chance that the vessel will pop up right in front of her face.

Hah, yeah right, Merlin thinks disdainfully.

"Merlin! I was worried," Morgana exclaims as the warlock rushes into Arthur's chambers. The king is still out cold on the floor.

"They're here! They're in the castle," Merlin says breathlessly. "I ran into Arthur and we nearly ran into them. It's Morgause! She's behind this."

"Morgause!" Morgana's eyes go wide, before narrowing thoughtfully. "Where's Arthur?"

"Gone to find somewhere safe to move to."

"Right. Merlin…" The dark-haired witch looks troubled.

Strangely troubled, beyond just there-are-unstoppable-knights-in-my-home-and-we're-probably-all-going-to-die levels of trouble.

"Is something wrong?" Merlin asks after a moment of waiting.

"I—"

Arthur bursts through the doors, cutting her off. "We have to move!"

They narrowly avoid death by undead Knights. Morgana slips and falls and Merlin is about to go after her, when bizarrely, the Knight stops, looks at her, and then turns to go after Merlin. Arthur jumps in and kicks it down the stairs.

They take refuge in the throne room, which has slightly better fortification.

"Merlin, help me!"

Merlin lets go of Uther and helps Arthur heave the bar up in front of the door just in time. She is hit with a wave of nausea, and slowly slides down the door. The pounding in her head is making it hard to think, and she tunes out of the conversation, wondering if her friends are safe.

Gaius is asleep in his chambers. Gwen and Leon…they could be anywhere. Merlin hopes desperately that they are okay.

She forces herself to focus. She tunes back in to hear Arthur and Morgana snapping at each other.

"I don't see how we're going to hold out," Arthur says, shaking his head. He's sweating. The sickness which preluded the sleep must be affecting him as well as her.

"We have to destroy the ves—the source of the magic," Merlin says wearily.

"Which is?"

"I don't know," she replies helplessly.

Arthur shakes his head again. He looks like he's trying to shake off the weariness settling deep in his bones.

"Our only chance is to get out of Camelot. Help me with my father. You cut the blanket up. We'll tie it to him, and we'll lower him onto the cart."

"Arthur…." Morgana doesn't seem to know what to say.

"I'll fetch the cart 'round to the window," the prince continues, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. This takes Merlin a moment to process. She blinks a few times, and shakes her own head, hoping to clear it.

"You're going out there? I'll come with you," she announces.

"No. No, you stay. You protect my father," Arthur commands.

"You won't reach the cart alone," Merlin protests, staggering to her feet. "It's suicide."

"We have no choice."

She considers for a moment. He's right. She has to block out a wave of hysteria as she admits to herself that she has no idea what the vessel is. Merlin shoves that away violently.

"How you feeling?"

"Not bad."

"You sure?"

Arthur huffs a laugh tiredly, leaning against the door. "Yeah, you?

"Never better," Merlin shoots back with a grin.

He begins to fall asleep, and she has to slap him across the face to wake him up. He splashes water on his face and readies himself to dash out when she raises the bar.

How do these things even happen to her? This might be it. Her best friend—one of her soulmates—may be about to die. Again.

"If I need a servant in the next life…." Arthur leaves the words open-ended.

Merlin chuckles wearily. Only Arthur, the prat. "Don't ask me."

Her soulmate laughs again, and the moment after she heaves the bar up, he is gone.

"Merlin?"

The young warlock turns to face Morgana. While Merlin is more and more exhausted, Morgana still seems fine.

"Are you still all right?" Merlin asks.

"Yes, fine." Morgana looks troubled again. "You have magic."

"I know," Merlin says, confused.

"You said that my magic must have been stopping the illness. Why isn't yours doing the same?"

"You're right," Merlin admits, "and I don't know, but that was the only thing I could think of."

"Earlier, I was going to tell you…I said I had nothing to do with the illness, but I'm not sure that's true." Morgana looks up at her, eyes full of something unidentifiable.

"Why would you say that? You wouldn't wish any harm on the people of Camelot, would you?" Merlin sinks down to sit on the floor, ignoring the sounds of Arthur fighting outside.

"No!" Morgana says sharply. "Never! Not to them."

Merlin looks at her more closely. "Then who to?"

"Uther," the king's ward admits softly. "I…I've been meeting with Morgause."

"Morgana!"

"She's been good to me! She gave me direction and understanding when no one else would," Morgana defends. She gives Merlin a sharp look. "You cannot say that if you were as lost as I was, you would not have taken what consolation you could."

"You're right, I can't," Merlin agrees. "But why Uther?"

"I would think you would understand more than anyone! How can you bear to live in the midst of a people who hate you for what you are? How can you serve a king whose only concern would be to see you dead if he knew the truth?" Morgana rages.

"I believe in the world that Arthur will build," Merlin replies softly. "He will be a great king. And then, someday, we will all be free."

"My only goal was to let that day come sooner for all of us," the witch points out. "I said I would help Morgause, but Arthur is going to die unless we do something, and I never wished to harm innocent people, only to prevent death."

"What can we do? We need to destroy the source of the power for the spell, the vessel," Merlin says, wiping sweat off of her own forehead.

She is growing more weary by the minute. The sounds of fighting have receded down the corridor, but Arthur must not be able to hold out much longer.

"And I don't know who—" Merlin breaks off suddenly. "You said that you would help Morgause—what did you say to her? What exactly?"

Morgana looks confused. "That…I would do anything to ensure Uther's death. Why?"

Merlin shoots to her feet. "Oh, no. No, no, no, no!"

Morgana follows. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Merlin turns to face her, stricken. "It's you. The vessel is you."

"What?!" Morgana turns pale.

"It must be! It makes sense! For these types of enchantments, the power must be provided by a living vessel, which is not affected by the spell itself. Morgause made you the vessel, and now—" Merlin breaks off. "There must be another way to—to siphon the spell's attention on you away. Something!"

A cry of pain echoes from the corridor.

"Arthur!" Morgana steps towards the door involuntarily.

"We can't go out there, it won't do any good," Merlin says despairingly.

Morgana is silent for a moment. "What could I do? To stop it?"

"You could die."

"Would it—would it stop them for sure? Save Arthur?" The witch tugs at the ends of her green velvet sleeves.

"Yes," Merlin says softly.

"Then I have to do this," Morgana says firmly. "It's my responsibility. Do you—do you have…."

"A poison," Merlin tells her reluctantly. "And a waterskin."

"Can you…?"

Merlin turns away, and pours the hemlock into the water with shaking hands, swishing it around. This is the only way.

The only way.

She can't quite look Morgana in the eye as she hands her the waterskin. "It will just taste like water. I'm sorry, I—"

"Merlin."

Merlin looks up at Morgana, whose eyes are wet.

The witch tries to smile. "You're a good friend. I brought this upon myself."

The warlock shakes her head. "If I had known it was you, I would have tried to kill you."

"But you didn't. Thank you." Morgana takes the water, and Merlin turns away, ashamed, as she takes a long drink.

She reaches up and wipes her eyes harshly.

The choking sound which follows only moments later makes the servant spin around, but not fast enough to catch Morgana. She collapses to the ground, the back of her head hitting the stone floor with a dull thud.

"Morgana!"

She stares up at Merlin, panicked, choking and choking and choking. She looks so betrayed. Merlin reaches out for her, tears spilling down her cheeks, but Morgana pushes her away. Merlin persists, and the servant cradles the king's ward as she dies.

"What have you done?!" Suddenly the doors slam open. Morgause pushes Merlin away from Morgana with a burst of magic.

"I had to," Merlin chokes out.

"You poisoned her!"

"You gave me no choice!"

"Tell me what you used and I can save her!" Morgause demands.

Merlin dashes away the tears violently and clenches her fists. "Stop the attack."

"You can't order me around, girl! You're nothing but a lowly servant!" The blond witch snaps.

"Undo the magic that drives the knights and let the people of Camelot wake!" Merlin shouts.

"Tell me the poison or you'll die," Morgause snarls.

"Then she'll die with me! I don't want this any more than you do. Stop the knights and you can save her."

Morgause growls, and rattles off a string of magical words. Merlin thrusts the bottle of hemlock poison at her, and she starts to mutter over Morgana's limp body. Her eyes have slipped shut.

Arthur bursts through the door. "Morgana!"

"Keep away from her!" Morgause thunders. "Bedyrne ús! Astýre ús þanonweard!"

A huge cloud of smoke erupts, and when it clears, both Morgause and Morgana are gone.

"How's Gwen doing?"

"Not good," Merlin tells Leon. "She doesn't know what to do with herself. She's started helping Uther through the day, just to have something to do. Arthur seems so lost. And the king, he's just…I wish I could fix all of this."

They are standing on the parapets, leaning on the sturdy wall and gazing out at the forest as the sun sets. Once, Merlin stood here and wondered if she would ever see Leon again. He made it home, and now she wonders if Morgana will ever be so lucky.

Leon sighs. "I know you do, Merlin. That's just the kind of person you are."

She shivers. The twilight air is cool, but that's not all it was.

The knight reaches out. "Here, my cloak is warm."

Merlin shuffles sideways so that she's standing with his arm around her shoulders, the cloak blanketing her. His presence, solid and warm, is comforting. "Thanks, Leon."

They stand in silence, watching the last rays of the dying sun.

Merlin sniffs, and scrubs at her eyes. "It's only been a week. I miss her."

"I know. We'll find her," Leon says.

Merlin forces a smile, and thinks of Morgana choking on poison. "Yes. We will."