Gaius came in late. It may have been his quarters but this had become Merlin's home too; at least he thought it had, and after their argument he had wanted to give the boy some space. It wasn't that he did not wish to tell Morgana the truth of herself, he truly did, but Morgana's history, and her childhood was more complicated than Merlin could imagine, and her Sight was her inheritance, as Merlin would in time come into his. Moreover, if he told Morgana such truths she would pursue them, and her own history was bound up with Merlin's more than either of them knew.
His boy had never learned politics like the Lady Morgana had, had never had to use information and secrets to manipulate, or studied strategy. Court life did not allow one such luxuries as play. Women especially were brought up knowing themselves to be pawns. They knew from an early age that they had a trade value, and how very fragile that value could be, to make a mistake could mean a lifetime trapped with a bully or worse. Merlin, Gaius knew, was naive still, and it was so very easy to forget just how very young he was, especially when he took on so many adult responsibilities so early, had been forced by circumstance to do so.
Not unlike the Lady Morgana, but they were so very, very different by nature.
The old man screwed his eyes shut against the memories that assaulted him as he sat in front of the fire to warm old bones and cast a look towards his ward's bedroom, sighing.
Gaius had known Lady Vivienne when she was young, when they were all so much younger and still so innocent. Gods what he wouldn't given to feel that just for a day again.
She had been strong then, and respected for it. Beautiful, and strong willed like her daughter, diligent and determined. He remembered far, far too clearly her crumbling, slowly retreating into herself like a shell as visions assaulted her and her friends stopped asking about them as it gained no answers, only more tears. That had frightened him as a young man, that what she saw was enough to make the brave woman weep. Had he but known what was to come he would have offered no comfort but wept with her.
Gorlois had known her from childhood and fought for her sanity as he fought for Uther Before Igraine's death. Always Gaius divided time into Before and After, because how could one not?
Gorlois had known as he first held his baby daughter than she would have magic and been thankful for it, not knowing that only a few years later he would beg his friend to smuggle Morgause out, and with the help of her gods-father Balinor it would be done. He'd wanted to see her safely himself but had enough forethought to know that information one did not know, one could not confess, even at the hands or Aredian's ilk. Morgana had been too young at the time, only a babe in arms, and had remained in Tintagel through the height of the purge, conveniently away from notice. Gorlois, whilst she was so very young was more than happy to keep his obviously magical wife and her baby out of sight, managed it so well in fact that it seemed many surviving courtiers had no idea of Morgana's lineage beyond her parents names and the lands her future husband would inherit.
When Morgana was weaned the Lady Vivienne sent word ahead of her intended visit, leaving her daughter safely in the care of her nanny for the few short weeks she would be gone, promising to bring back presents. Morgana had screamed herself hoarse and fought, kicked and bitten her way through, trying to drag her mother from the waiting horses, completely out of character for the independent little girl. Vivienne never reached Camelot. There was a half plausible story put out about increased attacks on the road and misfortune but few truly believed the reports now other than the confirmation of yet another death. Gaius was certain that the child had seen her Mother's death. He knew how little distance, or even time, meant to Seers, and his heart bled for the atrocities the child must have witnessed, seen repeated, been powerless to prevent, and he had watched the child fade, just as he had watched his friend vanish into her nightmares and visions until she could not face the world and retreated from everyone. He had watched Vivienne become catatonic as she flickered through the different perspectives of similar events until she couldn't separate reality from her dreams. If such terrible sights broke an adult who was trained in her talents by the priestesses before it was illegal to See and seek support, what chance did a child have, who had no chance of training, in a land where her own guardian would burn her. Merlin may have strong magic, but he was not a seer, he had no experience that could possibly help Morgana, and no formal training of his own either. They would feel less alone, true, but little more than that for now.
Gaius was sure no-one else but Gwen had seen Morgana trapped in her mind, or having to be held down and sedated when she simply could not stop screaming, he had lied for her when, eyes glazed over, she had slapped him and drawn blood. The mental fractures were already there and it was like watching history repeat itself.
There were things she had seen after coming to Camelot that Merlin could not yet conceive of, and the King was not a gentle man. In his capacity as court physician Gaius knew more than anyone of what both ward and son had suffered at his hands, and those of his enemies. There were memories Morgana carried that were not her own and he knew well that there were times she could not remember whether they were her own or someone else's. As time went on she had slipped up more than once and noticed nothing unusual about it. There was no simple 'cure' for the poor girl, and never would be, only dragon magic would truly help, which was more depressing than helpful. Especially since Kilgarrah had something of a grudge against the woman.
Privately Gaius was of the opinion that if the visions had not revealed Merlin's magic to her then there was probably a reason.
Then again, he knew what the prophecies said, and both of them could not remain 'good', for if Emrys and The Witch united, they would truly be unstoppable, and the world would be out of balance. The old religion would never stand for it.
The world may teeter on the brink but Gaius would take even the shortest moment of calm before the storm that he knew must come in order to restore the balance.
Love and hate, Light and dark, neither could be complete without the other, like the cycle of the sun and the moon, summer and winter. He couldn't save them both. Once again he was left with the choice of who lived, and with a heavy heart realised it had never been a choice at all, and so Merlin lived, Gaius vowing to protect him to his last breath. After all, if Emrys was truly immortal, to sacrifice him to the darkness would not end Albion. It would end everything.
Let him at least be wrong about that one, oh please let it be a title only! Yet unlike Merlin, Gaius was not a naive youth, still full of hope, he was a jaded old man, full of grief and regrets, and he knew deep in his soul that fate was never so kind. Another truth to never speak, to lock away and hide. If there was any mercy he'd be gone before Merlin realised the meaning of his name enough to ask, but Gaius was old and worn, and he knew that fate was never that kind.