Morgana felt sick to her stomach as she walked back to her chambers. Uther had wanted alone time with his daughter and had requested she dine with him. She sat there for nearly two hours trying not to puke as he proclaimed his victory over magic and triumph in "saving her."
You weren't even there. She thought. If anyone had saved her it would be Arthur and his knights. Not that he was any more noble than his father. The lot of them were false messiahs. Surely even the 'noble' Arthur Pendragon would slay her where she stood if he knew about her magic. Damned to a horrid fate because of a gift she was born with.
She slipped into her room and immediately removed her cloak. The fire was well tended, but the figure standing next to it, leaning against the mantel and staring into it's depths, was not Gwen. It was Arthur. In his hand he was holding the dagger he had given her for her birthday. His knuckles were white as he clutched it hard.
"Arthur, what a pleasant surprise." She made no indication that she noticed his tautness.
"Is it, Morgana?" his voice was low, angry.
The way he drawled her name reminded her of Merlin when he was confronting her about her schemes. Was this like that?
"I don't know what you-"
"Stop!" He snapped. "Just stop... Stop with the pretenses, the lies."
This was certainly a confrontation of sorts. How much did he know? The witch couldn't be sure. She stood straight and let her face relax into one of indifference. Arthur couldn't kill her if he tried. She would not be afraid of him. She once was like him, so utterly ignorant to the truth, but she was not anymore. Her knowledge made her strong, made her prepared. There was absolutely nothing he could do to hurt her.
He turned to face her. His eyes held not the anger she was expecting, but tears. He strode up to her, dagger still in hand. She cursed herself for taking a small step back. Her magic spun within her, ready to defend her as it did against Merlin. He took her hand gently and placed the dagger in it.
"If you're gonna kill me, look me in my eyes." he said. His gaze was as hard as steel. "The Morgana I knew was not a coward."
Her heart retreated. How did he know? She could still deny it. Say it was preposterous. He hadn't really believed that in the past though. Once Arthur knew something, she couldn't change his mind on it. Only Merlin seemed blessed with that ability. The only way for her to manage Arthur was make sure he never reached a conclusion, keep him guessing. She broke her gaze and walked towards the bed, tossing her dagger harmlessly onto.
"Seriously Arthur, how much wine have you had!?"
It was hopeless, but she would not yield easily.
"Come on Morgana, I know." His insistence on using her name every chance he could was very telling. He was hurt and trying to reach her. "The Siege, My quest, Elyan, I KNOW."
"Whatever Merlin's told you, he's lying." She scoffed.
There was silence. Morgana swore under her breath, Merlin hadn't told him anything. Arthur was processing the new information. Merlin knew. Of course he knew. Arthur remembered every time it seemed Merlin was paying a little too much attention to her. At first he thought it was a crush. But over time he noticed an uneasiness, and then Merlin suggested they leave an injured Morgana alone in the forest. Merlin would never leave someone who was injured alone. Especially not a friend. There was more though. More times when Merlin insisted on some vague danger. He glanced at the dagger on the bed. Merlin had definitely seemed weary about it.
"You wouldn't understand." She sat down.
"You fear father cause of your magic." He said plainly, no accusation. Her head snapped up at him. How could he have put that together? "You're bitter to his hatred, his lies. But I am not him, so why? Why would you not only want me dead, but to do it in the most sneaky, dishonest, cowardly way possible!?"
Morgana was wrong, he could hurt her. She had fancied him an ignorant fool who was drunk on his arrogance and position. Yet he had put together so much, he had made her feel foolish. He knew about her magic and yet asked her to kill him, arming her with the dagger himself. She reached for it and unsheathed it. It was as sharp as the day she received it months ago.
"Of all the gifts I received on my birthday this is my favorite." She said, twisting it, piercing her finger ever so slightly. "You never sincerely treated me as if I was weaker, anytime you kept me from battle it was from genuine concern."
She wasn't exactly sure where this speech was coming from. It was true. She just didn't think she could be such a wreck. She hadn't realized that her pretend courage was keeping her from seeing how timid she actually was.
"Maybe I thought, that because you saw me as an equal, you'd also see me as an enemy and it would be easier."
"Easier to kill your friend?"
"Brother." She corrected. If he knew the truth he might as well know the whole truth. The fact that Uther had so many lies, so many transgressions. His point from earlier still stood though. He wasn't Uther. "When I was unconscious I discovered Uther was my father. After I awoke I tried to get him to claim me, but he's not proud of me the way he is you. He loves me in his twisted way. Just not enough to not feel shame at the thought of admitting I'm his."
Arthur's head was spinning. There seemed to be much he didn't know. None of it fully explained why she wanted him dead. He had always loved her as a sister, and now he knew she was. This should have been a joyous occasion. They should have been laughing and drinking wine together. He would not hide their relationship as father did. Arthur had expressed doubts about magic's inherent corruptive powers. Even if only to Merlin, Morgana must have known he'd see things differently if he knew about her. She must have known he wouldn't kill someone for something they couldn't control. Morgana should have been the proof that magic wasn't corrosive to the soul, right now she seemed like the opposite. No... he would find a way to his Morgana and bring her back. Magic or none.
"I can't say I'd help you kill father." He replied solemnly. "I won't stop you either."
He couldn't mean that. He couldn't be saying he'd let his father die... for her. No this was definitely a trick. He knew she wouldn't outright stab him, that's why he gave her the dagger. Morgana looked for the strength to believe those delusions. She clung to the words Morgause had been telling her for a year. That Arthur is no different from his father. No different from Merlin. Her claims held no substance though. Everything Arthur had done since she returned indicated a deep caring and acceptance for her. Even with knowledge of her Magic and her treachery he had brushed it off and asked her to kill him. Even now he was saying that he valued her above his father, possibly above all others. Good, loyal, just, noble Arthur, was speaking treason for her. What ever led to that!?
"When did you figure it out?" She asked.
"There was a magical encyclopedia that survived the purge," He said with no intention of implicating Gaius from whom he stole the book. "It contained information on the eye of the firebird. I recognized it as the jewel in the bracelet you gave me. I told myself there was no way you'd do that intentionally but I came to learn there was absolutely no way for you to accidentally poison me in such a manner. It wasn't until after I lost the bracelet on my quest that I found the strength to carry on. Slowly the other instances started to make more sense."
It was then that Arthur remembered the exact last time he remembered having it. He had collapsed on the floor of the fisher king's castle, only to wake to his bumbling servant grinning at him. Gaius must have told Merlin about it, so Merlin removed it. How much did Merlin know about these things? And how precisely, had he kept Arthur from being wyvern fodder without a sword? Arthur shook it from his thoughts, he did not want to know anything more about what they were keeping from him. He wanted Merlin to remain kind and innocent, at least to him. He did not want to consider too carefully the idea that his best friend might also be harboring a secret penchant for the mystic arts. Focus on one thing at a time, he told himself.
"As I said earlier, if you're gonna kill me, don't stab me in the back. You're better than that."
Then he left. He left knowing that any day now he could die, that his sister and her new friend might kill him. He left knowing that there was so much more that he didn't know, and would rather not. He left Morgana with a dagger in her hand, contemplating what it should be used for. She no longer was confident that she could kill Arthur. He was right, Morgana was not a coward.
AN: hope y'all enjoyed, lemme know what you think of my only non-depressing one shot thus far. I have a few other one shots I'm working on, a depressive M rated Merdred fic coming up, and ch6 for simple realization is literally almost finished. I just need the strength to push through.
~Myrien