Third Person's Point of View

Darkness surrounded her, consumed her. There was nothing to indicate she even lived, aside from the feel of her heartbeat thundering beneath her palm and the sound of her own ragged breathing in her ears.

The reeking smell of dirt and piss made her want to empty her stomach, but there was nothing to purge, and it would only add to her torture.

Where was she? Who was she? She couldn't remember a thing about herself or why she was where she was. The darkness had swallowed her whole, along with any sense of identity.

She wept silently in the dark and cold dwelling, pleading and praying with any God that existed to save her from such eternal and inescapable despair.

"Help me." she whimpered, her voice had stopped working properly ages ago. Her screams had proved fruitless, what was the point? No one could hear her. No one.

Morgana woke with a jolt, her hand clutching at the blanket. She breathed in deeply, her eyes adjusting to the dim light the flickering fire allowed.

There was no darkness, no swallowing pit of black. She was here, but where was here exactly?

She sat up slowly, gingerly, aware of a deep throb in the back of her head. Fingers tightened around her other hand, and she looked down. Arthur. He clutched at her like a baby would it's mother, his head resting on the edge of her cot, a blanket draped over his shoulders.

A fond smile stretched across her cracked lips and she pulled her hand from his, carefully testing her strength as she swung her legs over the cot. Across the room Gwen and a vaguely familiar woman lay sleeping by the hearth, and sitting beside them in a chair sat Merlin.

She wasn't able to tell if he was awake or not but she stood regardless. A wave of dizziness swept over her and she lent up against the wall, one hand to her head.

"What are you doing?" Merlin took a step towards her, gazing at her in concern. She held up her hand, asking him without a word to stop.

She made her way to the door and stepped outside, her feet chilled as she walked out along a small stone path bordered by blooming flora. The woods were just ahead of her, and she stared out into the never ending night. The sun would soon rise, and it made her sigh. She wasn't ready to face the day.

A touch on her shoulder made her skin jump, but she stayed as she was as a shawl was draped over her shoulders. She turned, and Merlin smiled. She nodded in thanks, pulling the soft material tighter around her.

Then it was quiet, and a heavy silence took place between them. She felt herself fill with anger, anger so hot and quick it made her want to scream. She hadn't felt such a way since before Morgause's death, when it had only been felt towards Arthur, Uther, and Gauis. Now it directed itself solely at Merlin.

This horrid man, who'd kept a secret that had the power to destroy her. He hadn't told her of his magic, and he'd allowed her to go on in life believing she was going insane. The visions she had suffered, the fires she had started, unexplained. All she had wanted, all she had needed was for someone, Merlin, to acknowledge it. To tell her she wasn't crazy, to understand the fear that threatened to consume her day and night.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

She laughed bitterly. "Well enough, I suppose, for someone who's made it through their own execution."

She could hear how cold she sounded, how empty her voice was, but she couldn't make herself feel sorry for it. She'd changed, and as much as she would like nothing more than to go back and be the sweet carefree girl she once was, it was an impossibility.

There's a darkness inside her, and it began when Morgause placed her under her spell and had only grown since then. She would never be the Lady Morgana again. She would be Morgana Pendragon, bastard, witch, usurper, murderer.

And he was to blame.

"You can stop. I remember everything."

Merlin's eyes grew big. She sounded so hateful. She sounded like the Morgana who'd been so determined to kill her own father and brother, and steal and crown she hadn't earned. Morgause had created her, and Morgause was dead.

He had thought that meant the Morgana she'd made was gone as well, but the ice creeping into her tone spoke volumes. He rebuked his thoughts as quickly as they strayed into his head, she was different now. The Morgana who'd returned to Camelot was changed. Born anew.

She had begged for his forgiveness, his, while bound to the stake. She had thanked him for believing in her truth even as the flames came for her.

"I'm sorry." He couldn't bring himself to look her in the eye.

She shook her head. "For what?" she asked. "For poisoning me? I've already told you I understood, so that can't be it. Is it for hiding the truth from me? For listening as I confided my worst fears in you, and saying nothing? When all the while you had the power to ease my fears, to let me know I wasn't alone, wasn't..." she trailed off, her voice quieting. Her eyes were red with tears not yet shed.

"I thought you were my friend."

"I'm so sorry," he reached for her, but she shied away. "I will be sorry for what I have done to you for the rest of my life. I didn't think I had a choice. Gauis advised me to leave you be, that you would be in more danger if you knew the truth. I thought-" he swiped at his face with his shaking hands.

What had he thought? Why had he listened to Gauis? If he had only told her the truth, she never would have felt Morgause was the only person she had to turn to. Perhaps all of this could have been avoided. If only.

"You thought what?" she narrowed her gaze. "That I would have given Uther your name to save myself? Do you really think so little of me?"

"Of course not!" he objected.

"Then why?" she cried. "Why wasn't I good enough? What was it I did to make me seem so untrustworthy? I was scared and alone, all I wanted was for you to tell me I wasn't!"

"I was scared!" his fingers grasped at her shoulders.

"And don't you think I was scared?"

His head dropped, his chin to his chest. He nodded. "I know you were. Nothing I say will every be able to convey how sorry I am. I am, so sorry. Morgana." he looked up, his hands moving to cup her face.

His thumbs stroked her skin, and her breath caught in her chest at his touch. His face came nearer, and her eyes fluttered shut. With a heavy sigh he touched his forehead to hers, "I'm sorry." he whispered.

She let out her breath. "I know."

"Morgana?" Merlin's hands dropped to his sides, and she opened her eyes. Arthur stood by the door, his tone concerned. She smiled.

"Arthur." His eyes lit as Merlin nervously edged away, walking towards the shed. Arthur rushed towards her. She let out a little gasp as he enveloped her in his arms, and he pulled away quickly.

"I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?" he looked over her guiltily.

"No, you just surprised me."

"Oh." he blushed and she smiled, reaching to brush some gold hair from his eyes.

"Hi."

He grinned, squeezing her into another embrace. "Hi."

She held him close, but couldn't help the glance she sent over his shoulder. She watched Merlin's retreating form until he disappeared into the shed.

"I'm so glad you're okay." he mumbled. She held him tighter, berating herself for not giving him her undivided attention. He had obviously done everything he could to halt her execution, and he had been so worried for her he'd slept at her side through the night. "I was so worried."

She smiled, pulling back so she could smirk up at him. "Arthur, I didn't know you cared."

He huffed and rolled his eyes, "Very funny."

"I missed you." she said, holding him tight once more. All this time she had spent distancing herself from him as Morgause molded her into the dark figure she'd required. It was astonishing now to realize just how lonely she'd been, how much she had missed the presence of him she had never been without.

She could clearly recall the day she'd arrived in Camelot as a small child, donned in mourning black. Dreading the future, she'd rode into the courtyard on her pony with tears in her eyes. Uther had left her alone with the Prince only moments after her arrival. All lanky limbs and too-long blonde hair, he'd asked if she would like to play swords with him.

She had smiled for the first time since her father's death. He'd made her smile ever since, and only now could she truly appreciate how much she had missed him.

"I missed you too." he returned. Moving to stand at his side she took his arm and steered them towards the woods, taking slow steps toward it.

"Tell me. How long has it been?" the last thing she remembered was seeing Merlin's eyes burn gold, and then nothing. She could only guess how long it had been since.

"It's been three days."

"I've been asleep for three days?"

"More like four." he gestured to the light in the distance.

"I see." she glanced up at him, and was taken aback by the frown on his face and the tightness in his clenched jaw. "What is it?"

"Father is dead."

She stopped, her breath momentarily caught. "I see."

For a moment she did not speak, thinking of the mad who had had her so terrified for so long. But she could remember a time when it had not been so, when they were young and he had taken time from his kingly duties to truly act a father's role.

He had been so kind once, and playful. It hurt to think how he had changed, how cold and power hungry time had turned him. But she could not help feeling more relieved than anything. It was hard to think she had a lost a father, for now and always she would see Gorlois as her true father. No matter of blood.

"I'm so sorry Arthur."

"Don't be." he shook his head solemnly. "I feel as if he's been dead to me for some time. Magic blinded him, to you, to me. I can't be sad a tyrant such as he has met his death. He lied about so much, my mother, you. He nearly killed you. How can I miss him?"

"Don't. Arthur, it's me. You don't have to pretend with me. I am your sister, not just in blood but bond as well. I know you. It's alright to mourn him."

He swallowed, turning to grace her with a brave smile. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

She smirked sweetly. "You'd be utterly lost."

He rolled his eyes, knocking his shoulder playfully with hers. "You shall address me as 'Your Majesty'." he said, mockingly stern.

She laughed, "If you ever think I will call you that, you are simply dreaming."

He pouted. "I suppose I will spend the rest of my days hoping to earn your respect."

She smiled at him, her fingers tightening around his arm. "You already have it."

He looked down at her, his playful expression faded. "Truly?"

"Truly. How could you not? You are my brother, you are brave, you stand by what is right. You are King Arthur of Camelot. Never has there been a better ruler." she said.

He shook his head. "I don't deserve your respect. I was not there for you, not when you needed me most. I was too absorbed in myself. Blind to problems that were not my own." he objected.

"No one is perfect. I have forgiven you, as you should forgive yourself. If you can see my past my transgressions, you should be able to see past your own."

"When did you grow so wise?"

"I always have been." she turned them towards the house. "You're just now noticing."

He chuckled and she leaned her head against his shoulder.

Morgana and Gwen sat side by side at the hearth, hands held tight as Merlin laid a newly split bundle of wood beside it.

"Thank you sweetheart." he glanced at his mother and smiled with a nod.

Arthur sat on Morgana's cot with a bowl of soup, watching the girls with a small grin. It was strange seeing Arthur like this, so happy and free of burden.

"Merlin?" his mother gently rubbed his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

At the realization that he'd been staring he blushed, nodding sheepishly. "Yes. Sorry." She smiled knowingly and patted his head before turning away, busying herself with cleaning up by the mantle.

It was almost midday, and he was still flushed with emotion from his talk with Morgana. He had nearly kissed her, and he couldn't stop his thoughts from drifting towards thoughts he was better left not entertaining. He thought of what could have happened had Arthur not come out. Would she have pushed him away? Pulled him closer?

How could he even think such things? She may no longer be a Lady of Camelot, but she was the King's sister. She was much too far above him in station to ever consider being a proper romantic interest.

He cleared his throat, forcing his wandering mind to the present and tuning in to the conversation at hand.

"How soon will you be ready to travel?" Arthur asked between slurps of soup. Morgana and Gwen were turned in their seats to face him, and Morgana cocked her head.

"Travel?"

"Back to Camelot."

She looked down to her hands in her lap. "I'm afraid I'm not going back."

The silence was deafening, and he looked nervously from one person to another. Guinevere shook her head, confused. "What? Why not?"

"Do you really think I'll be welcomed back with open arms after all that I've done?"

"That wasn't you." Arthur said.

"That isn't the point. I can't return, and I'm not sure I much want to. I find the bad memories seem to outweigh the good now."

"Well, where will you stay?" Gwen asked.

Her fingers twisted and knotted around the fabric of her borrowed dress, and she looked nervously to Hunith. "I was hoping I might earn my keep here. I don't have much experience with hard labor, but I'm certain I could learn quickly."

Hunith simply smiled at her nervousness, taking her chin gently in her head so their eyes would meet. "I would be more than happy to have you sweetling."

Morgana smiled, then looked to Arthur with a frown. "I suppose that settles it."

He nodded, placing his bowl to the side. He stood and left the room. Morgana raked her fingers through her hair as Gwen politely excused herself to follow him. Merlin watched through the window as she caught up to Arthur, touching his arm gently. He turned into her and they embraced, his head in the slope of her neck.

He turned away, not wishing to intrude on their moment. Morgana had curled up in her chair, turned back to the fire. "Do you believe I'm doing the right thing?" she asked.

At first he'd thought she'd spoken to him, but he saw her gazing at his mother. "I think you're doing what is best for you, and I don't believe that's something you've done very often."

Morgana nodded, though she didn't seem freed of her guilt. "Thank you." she stared into the fire, her eyes reflecting the flames.

Merlin wondered what their journey home would look like, heading away from her rather than toward. They had only just gotten her back, only to have to leave her behind. Perhaps knowing she was nearby would assuage their grief.

But even as he thought it, he knew his attempts to assure himself would never work. He would miss her more than he could bear. Somehow, Morgana had burrowed herself under his skin again. And he had a feeling it was going to be impossible to get her out.

hey i know it's been quite a while but i hope this will suffice for now. i'm trying my best and the conversation between Arthur and Morgana just felt so organic to me, that i pray it does to you guys too. anyways, please review i love constructive criticism.