Third Person's Point of View

She thought, once she'd heard him sentence her, she'd feel something. Panic, maybe anger. But no, she was numb.

Across the bed Arthur swallowed hard in disbelief. "Father-"

"Take her away. She will stay in her chambers until you make the formal announcement." The King looked away, tired. He leaned back into his pillows, closing his eyes. He was ill, and this confrontation seemed to have exhausted his strength.

Arthur stood, leading her from the room with a hand on her arm. He stole glances, waiting for the -practically inevitable- escape attempt as they stepped inside her chambers.

But she did nothing, only walked to the bed as he closed the door behind him. He watched her closely, wishing he could say something. There was so much he wanted to say, so many questions burning at his tongue.

She sat at the edge of her bed, expression blank.

He had grown with her, shared his deepest secrets he would never have dared to tell another living soul. He'd known her better than anyone, or so he had thought. And if he knew anything, he knew this wasn't her. This person sitting before him was a shell, a fraud placed before him to eliminate the memories he was desperately clinging to.

"Who are you?" he murmured.

"I don't know anymore." he hadn't expected her to answer.

He sat beside her, pinkies barely touching. Slowly she reached out, touching her hand to his. "I wish I had known you were my brother."

"Why?"

"I would have made sure you knew how much I cared."

A tinge of blush stained his cheeks and he looked down, torn. "I wish I could talk you. I want nothing more than to pretend you're still Morgana, the Morgana I thought you were. But I can't, because you're, not."

"I know."

There was silence for a moment. "Why?" he spoke.

She had deliberately betrayed him, betrayed Camelot, their people. She had gone behind his back, conspired with Morgause, and plotted to murder him and take his crown.

"What?"

"How could you, how could you do this to me? To us? To Camelot? I don't understand it, any of it. Help me understand."

She looked to her lap, pulling her hand away slowly. There was nothing she wanted more than to tell him the truth, to explain everything that had led to this moment. To have his forgiveness meant everything to her, but she wanted didn't matter any longer. Someone had to pay for what had been done.

"I'm sorry."

He stood, angrily stepping away from her. His gaze one of accusation. "Sorry isn't an explanation. I want to know why. How could you do this to us?" he shouted.

"I'm sorry."

"Stop saying that!" he grabbed her arms, squeezing roughly as he shook her.

"Let go!" her eyes flashed and she pushed him away.

He sucked in a breath as he hit the wall, sliding to the floor with a dull thud. "Arthur!" she fell to her knees beside him, touching his face as his eyes fluttered open. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Please, forgive me. I didn't want to, I swear." she cried, her head bowed.

Bewildered he hugged his side.

"I'll tell you everything. I swear. I cannot bear you looking upon me as if I am a monster."

"What are you talking about?" She took his hand, helping him to settle in a chair by the fire. "I don't understand."

"When, when Morgause took me, she brought me to Cenred's castle in Essetir. I was disoriented, and you must understand I wasn't in my right mind. She brought me to a cellar covered in mandrake root. She locked me inside for," she broke off, shaking her head. "I honestly don't know how long. But, it destroyed me. Mandrake root feeds off of your fears and weaknesses, and causes delusions of the cruelest kind."

"Delusions?"

"I would see those I cared for and loved. They would call me the most hideous names, taunt me, threaten me with death and torture me in unimaginable ways. It never let me sleep, and I screamed so long I lost my voice. Then, Morgause returned. Every few days or so she'd bring me food and drink, and serve as a reminder that she was the only person to care for me any longer."

He looked to the flames, doubtful. "All that, with mandrake root?"

"Yes. It's a ritual performed only by a High Priestess. They call it the teine diaga. It takes the victim's soul and twists it until it's no longer their own. When it was finished, and she took me from the cell and I was hers to command."

He nodded in acknowledgement. "How do I know you're no longer under her control?"

"When the High Priestess dies her victims are released, and the memory of their time with the mandrake root is realized. "

"You mean, after everything that took place in that cell, you didn't remember any of it?"

"No. It's a part of the ritual. When she took me from the cellar I remembered nothing that she did not wish me to. I held nothing but hatred in my heart for those I left behind in Camelot. And whenever I tried to think of something good, I was faced with the same images from my terrors."

"And yet, with everything that you have told me, you still stand by everything you've said to our father."

She shook her head, "How could you hope to understand? How could you ever know what it's like to live under the rule of this merciless tyrant king, and realize that you have magic? To hope with everything you have that he'll understand and still care for you, but to know that he'll have you killed as he does all the others? You don't know what it's like to realize that he's killing your brothers and sisters, the people who are just like you and you're powerless to stop it."

She twisted her hands in her lap. "And then, to find out that he's my father. To realize that the man who whose grave I've traveled to countless times was raising a bastard. It hurts more than all of it. I hate Uther for taking the memory of my true father from me. And what's worse, he's never bothered to acknowledge me. I heard him once, speaking to Gaius when he thought I was asleep. He admitted it to him, and he spoke of how no one could ever know. Not even I. I gave him countless opportunities to admit it, and he passed each one by without a word."

Arthur stayed quiet. He could see these things from her point of view, and understand how they could drive her to such unimaginable fear. But Uther was still his father, still the man who'd raised him and cared for him his whole life.

But Morgana, she was his sister.

"I feared for my life, and everywhere I turned there was another person telling me that I was only imagining things." she stood, pacing before the fireplace. "Do you have any idea how many times I dreamed of your death? You could never understand how alone I felt, there was no one to turn to, to assure me I was sane. And then Morgause was here, and she told me she was my sister. She was family, and she cared for me, and she had magic. Suddenly I wasn't so alone."

"You were never alone in the first place!" Arthur objected. "You had me, Guinevere, even Merlin. Why didn't you come to us? Were we really so distrustful?"

"I went to Merlin! I told him what I feared and he said there was nothing he could say, nothing he could do to help me. And you? Gwen? I was always alone. The moment you infatuation with Gwen arose you left me alone. Neither of you wanted to speak with me anymore for fear I would find out about your precious feelings for one another. How was I meant to trust you when you couldn't return the gesture?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Do you remember my pilgrimage to my father's grave, when we were ambushed?"

"Of course."

"I managed to get away but Gwen was taken. When you found me in the woods you barely spared me a look before asking where she was. You showed no concern for me, no care that I was bloodied and bruised and in nothing more than a shift. All you cared about was returning for her. At the time I suppose I was too stupid to notice how little my safety meant, but you only made it more clear as time went on. I thought," she broke off, looking to the fire. "I thought you would always be there."

He stood, pushing past the pain in his side, and flung his arms about her. She gasped, her arms limp at her sides. He held her to him with all the strength he had, "I never meant to make you feel this way. You are never alone."

He pulled back, his hands resting upon her shoulders. Her lower lip trembled, they were the same words her sister had spoken to her. But coming from her brother, they meant something more.

She smiled, bringing her arms around him.

Merlin watched the exchange through the slots of Morgana's dressing screen, his hand squeezing Guinevere's. They hadn't meant to spy, but when they'd heard their steps in the hall they'd hidden, crouched in the corned behind the screen.

To say Morgana's explanation had changed their view on the past year was an understatement. If what she said was true, it put many unanswered questions into perspective.

Arthur and Morgana pulled apart, cheeks flushed. Neither was known for their displays of affection, and everything they'd been forced to go through in the span of only hours had taken its toll.

"Better late than never I suppose." Morgana murmured, sitting down again.

Arthur sighed, taking a seat as well. "Don't talk like that. When I explain to father what you've told me, he'll have no choice but to retract his decision.

"Arthur, he won't believe. He'll only think I've cast some sort of spell over you."

"You are my sister Morgana. My blood. We have grown together, and you have always stood by my side. I will not leave yours." he took her hand. "Morgause took advantage of you, used you for her own selfish purposes. I will not watch you die for actions that were not your own."

Gwen gasped. Merlin smacked a hand over her mouth.

"What was that?" He looked up at Arthur's voice, eyes wide as the Prince looked in their direction.

"I'm sure it was nothing." He turned back to Morgana, rubbing his head.

"Father said you have a week until the execution. We will figure something out. I will not let this happen to you."

"You can't stop this Arthur. Someone is to pay for the lives of those people. It will be me."

He stood, his chair scraping noisily against the floor as it slid back.

"I'll figure this out Morgana. Don't worry. I'll be back soon. The formal announcement will not take place if I have anything to say about it."

"Arthur-" she held out a hand to stop him but he ignored her, striding across the room. The door slammed behind him.

Morgana stayed frozen for a moment, biting her lip. She glared in the direction of the screen. "You can come out now. I'm sure you've heard more than enough." Merlin glanced to Guinevere, her eyes wide at the realization that they'd been discovered. "I said come out. I know you're there."

Slowly he stood, sheepish at having been caught snooping. He helped Gwen from the floor and they stepped from behind the screen, "How long did you know?"

"I heard you gasp." she stood up, wandering to her armoire where she pulled out a nightgown.

"Were you telling the truth? How are we supposed to believe you weren't lying?" Gwen asked.

Morgana turned, tossing the nightgown atop the bed. She stared at the girl she'd once called her best friend. "I suppose you don't. But if it means anything to you, I swear on my life that I am telling the truth. And I wish for you to know, that I regret hurting you more than anything." she frowned tearfully at the woman who had once been her maid, and was now the undoubted future Queen of Camelot.

"I am so sorry for everything that I've done. I don't expect you to forgive me, but-" Guinevere pulled her into an embrace, muffling her last words.

"I forgive you. You are and always will be my best friend." she murmured softly.

Morgana returned her embrace fiercely, face burrowed in her neck. "Thank you."

Merlin watched the exchange cautiously. He wanted nothing more than to believe Morgana was telling the truth, but it was hard to forget the months she'd spent threatening him and glaring at him from across rooms.

"May I speak with Merlin, alone?"

He glanced up, startled to see Gwen nodding understanding; leaving the room with a supportive smile tossed in his direction.

And then it was just the two of them.

"Since my sister's death, I have been able to put some things in perspective. I see now that you poisoned me to save Camelot. That it wasn't just to hurt me. I can't rightly say that I understand why you chose to do it in such a manner, for all you know I would have done it myself."

She paused, her brow furrowed in concentration as she sought the words. "I thought we were friends, and I thought you trusted me."

"Mor-"

"Please. Let me speak." he nodded.

"I don't have long left. Despite what Arthur thinks Uther will not budge in his ruling. I would know best of all that when he makes a decision he rarely goes back on his word. I don't wish to spend the rest of my days holding a grudge against you, and while I cannot forgive you, I can say that I don't blame you. And I hope, if only for a few moments, we can be friends again."

He tried hard to push past the sincerity in her voice, to discern between truths and lies but the line was blurring. Everything inside him screamed that she was being honest, that the vulnerable expression she wore could be nothing but real.

But then he looked back, and he remembered when he had seen her on her bed, having just returned from her year long absence, teary-eyed and repentant. She had tricked him then, who was to say she wasn't now?

Except, she was to die. What reason was there to lie to him? Or anyone for that matter? Morgause was dead and any ally she had in her twisted hopes to take the throne were gone. She was alone.

Perhaps this was her way of ensuring she wasn't completely on her own in the last few days of her life, and should that be true, he certainly wouldn't hold it against her.

"I understand." he nodded, offering a smile. "I hope the same. There is nothing I want more than for things to be okay between us. I've," he paused, unsure of expressing his feelings. "I've missed you. The real you."

She laughed, somewhat darkly. "I don't think I know the real me anymore."

"I do. The real Morgana is kind and compassionate, she cares for the people of Camelot, sometimes more than she cares for herself. She knows how to treat people like they are worth something, and she's not afraid to speak her mind. She's a good person, and she's someone I care about very much. And I'm very sorry to have hurt her." He took her hand, hoping he wasn't crossing whatever lines had been set between them.

"Do you think there's a chance I could ever, be her again?"

She tilted her head to look into his eyes, full of hope and yet solemn.

He nodded. "I believe, if you are sincere, that anything is possible if given the time."

Neither spoke that time was one thing she didn't have much of. She released his hand, smoothing her fingers down the front of her dress.

"I suppose I should let you get some rest, it's been a trying day."

He agreed, bidding her a good night as he swept from her chambers.

Alone, she took a breath. She was tired, and wished for sleep, but her muddled thoughts would not allow her rest. She stood by the fireplace.

With the unintended forgiveness she had earned from Arthur came a sense of relief, and it worried her. The last thing she wanted was to grow used to the feeling of belonging again, it would only make it harder to accept her predetermined death.

Arthur believed he could change their father's mind, but she knew better. She may be his daughter, but that had no effect on the laws against magic. They clearly stated, sorcery was to be punished by death.

Camelot meant more to him than she ever had.

It was then, coming to the realization that there was no escaping her fate, the fear of death she had been waiting for finally came. She wasn't ready to die.

She crumpled to the floor before the fire, her cries racking her body. Claire found her moments later, and held her until she'd cried herself into an uneasy sleep.

Gaius stood as Merlin entered their rooms, arms crossed. "Where have you been?" he demanded, his tone noticeably concerned.

"I don't know where to begin." he murmured, sitting down at the table. Gaius joined him.

"I must attend to the King. Tell me what you can?"

"Morgana is to be executed in a week's time. And if I'm to believe what she told Arthur, Morgause was controlling her the entire time."

The physician recoiled in surprise, "How so?"

"She said it was mandrake root, some ritual only performed by high priestesses of the old religion."

"Teine diaga."

Merlin looked up in surprise, "You know of it?"

"Yes. When I was young I heard talk of an ancient ritual of the old religion called the teine diaga. The ritual used mandrake root to bring unimaginable terror to the victim. When it was finally over, their will was no longer their own, they were slaves to the high priestess' for eternity. But, seeing as Morgause was the last of them, Morgana may very well have broken from it. That is, if she was telling the truth in the first place."

"And if she was, she'll be executed for something she had no control over."

"Merlin." Gaius grabbed his hand, his voice stern. "There is nothing you can do to stop this. Do not put yourself in danger for her. She could very well be lying to you and Arthur."

Merlin nodded, smiling weakly. "I know. I won't do anything."

"Good. I'll be back soon. The king has grown weaker, and I've done all I can do. It won't be long now." Gaius said solemnly, squeezing his shoulder as he left the room.

Merlin retired to his bed, changing slowly into his night clothes. His thoughts ran rampant, skimming over everything Morgana had said to both him and Arthur.

He knew she had been a good liar in her time of deception, but there was something in his gut that told him she was telling the truth. Every part of him screamed to take the leap of faith and do something.

And so as he settled beneath his blankets and rested his head upon his pillows, he began to plot. Gradually, a plan formed in his mind.

A plan to save Morgana.