A/N Another for the Heart of Camelot Lyrics and Melodies challenge! This one was to be based off of The Goo Goo Doll's song, Iris... which gave me the title of the chapter. Set during 3.5, Morgana has just overheard Uther admit to Gaius that she is his illegitimate daughter.
Summary: Morgana struggles with the knowledge that Uther is his father, and that it changes nothing. He would still hate her for her magic. He would still kill her, if he knew.
"Uther is my father. I am his daughter... He's been lying to me, all these years... He disowned me.
He wants people to think he's the perfect King. It's more important to him than his own
flesh and blood." The Crystal Cave, s3e5.
Morgana could hear Gaius moving about the infirmary, Uther – her father – having left her bedside now that he'd dropped on her this burden of knowledge. And it was a burden, knowing that he'd sired her and left her to grow up an orphan. To know that every time she'd watched Arthur and him together and pushed down the jealousy and sadness, it had been a lie. Uther hadn't loved Arthur more because he was his son, and she his ward. He had loved Arthur more because he'd chosen to.
To know that her guardian would be unable and unwilling to give up his prejudices, to forgive her this magic she had found to be part of her was one thing. Something else entirely, to know that he would look at his daughter and see only the magic and how he hated it so. Something else, to know that her father would have her dead, simply for being what she had no choice in being. She had been born with it, this treacherous gift, and had known Uther would blame her and hate her and cast her down as readily as he would a stranger.
This thought had always hurt, as she had always loved Uther. She hadn't thought it could hurt more, but she was his daughter, and it changed nothing, and – oh – it did.
She was fading from this half-consciousness, the sounds and smells of the room losing strength as she fell into the blackness of her mind. Lost amongst the pain of memories ripped asunder and rearranged, old wounds made fresh, and all the questions she'd never dare ask, one certainty remained at the top of her consciousness, dagger-sharp and waiting to be acted upon:
Uther had to pay for this betrayal.
Her father had to die.