Title: These Are Our Lives

Fandom: Merlin

Rating: K

Pairings/Characters: Arthur/Gwen, Merlin, OC

Spoilers: 2.02 and 4.13 (I guess: not sure how those could be spoiled anymore.)

Warnings: Intent to harm.

Disclaimer: If you're looking for the owners of Merlin in this corner, I'll tell ya right now: go fish.

Summary: That awkward moment when you think it's a good idea to attack the Queen of Camelot in front of her husband.

AN: Not 100% sure where this came from. I think it was me wanting to put a new twist on a potentially cliched story. It may be slightly confusing at first, but hopefully it'll make sense at the end.

Chapter Four: Grievously Misinformed

I think I took her completely by surprise, which was a good thing; you can never be too careful with sorceresses. My sword, sharpened that very morning, whistled downward towards her unprotected neck. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in fear.

Something heavy slammed into me, and hands latched around my wrists, preventing the sword from lowering any more. I fell with a gasp, but that wasn't too much of a detriment; I knew how to get myself out of this situation. I punched out, catching my attacker's face, and we rolled away from each other. As I jumped to my feet, I heard the slither of a sword being drawn. So, she had a protector.

I turned, ready, and my heart dropped like a stone, my breath hissing out in confusion.

King Arthur, who had been standing not three feet away from the traitoress (he obviously had not known she was there), now stood before me, blade raised and eyes filled with black fury. I blinked.

"Sire, what-?"

The king lunged forward, growling, and I was forced to defend myself. I may not have not have liked Uther, but his son had won my respect by being one of the best kings in land for a long, long time, so I was loathe to fight him. But why did I have to?

The witch was being pulled away by a dark-haired servant that watched the fight with intensity. The red-cloaked knights, with swords drawn, circled closer, looking for an opening. And the king still attacked.

There was only one explanation. She had enchanted them. This was a problem, since I had no idea how to break enchantments.

Maybe I could reason with him (doubtful as that was). "Sire!" I cried over the head-rattling clanging. "I mean you know harm! Please, listen-"

King Arthur locked swords with me, then gave a vicious shove, knocking me over. "Yes, I'm sure that's why you just tried to kill my wife!" he said sarcastically, his voice seething, and he stepped on my sword before I could raise it. The sharp tip of his came to rest on my chest. "Spare your words for the executioner."

Hands seized my arms and hauled me up, but they weren't a tight as the grip that took my heart. Her hold on him was too strong. "No no, you don't understand," I gasped. "She's a sorceress! You know that, I know you do!"

Arthur turned to meet her dark eyes, and I hated how good of an actress she was. You'd almost believe she didn't know what I was talking about. "Who, Guinevere?" the king asked incredulously, and was about to dismiss me when I responded.

"No, sire, Morgana."

No one knew what to say to that. Arthur and the witch exchanged confused looks once more, while the servant, still loosely holding her arm, narrowed his eyes at me.
The witch spoke, her voice low. "I don't understand. You think I-"

Anger filled me. After all she had done, all the hurt and pain and death she had caused, she dared deny it?

"You know who you are," I snarled, straining against the hands holding me, ignoring how they tightened. "Don't you dare-"

"Enough."

The king stepped into my line of sight, sword raised threateningly, but the woman interrupted. "No, Arthur, let him speak. I want to know why."

She stepped forward gracefully, and her deep brown eyes looked into mine. It was hard to hate her when she looked so beautiful and kind, but I was good at that.
"Why?" I snapped. "You may have them fooled, but I know who you are, Morgana. I haven't forgotten your face, even after all these years. I thought you were such an innocent girl when I first met you, but then I heard about all the things you did, all the people you hurt, the lives you ruined in your quest for revenge. You don't fool me. And you can kill me, but there will be others to take my place, others that are loyal to this man here. Don't think you can get away with what you've done."

She stared. "You have been grievously misinformed, sir. I am not Morgana, I am the Queen, Guinevere."

Before I could answer this, the servant behind her demanded suddenly, "Where did you see her?"

I blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"Where did you see Gwen?" he asked seriously. "When did you meet?"

"It was many years ago. I had been captured by Hengist, a man that forces his prisoners to fight each other or die. She had also been taken captive, and was a 'guest' there. It was before she revealed her true colors."

King, sorceress, and servant exchanged startled, almost relieved looks. Arthur almost laughed. "Ah-ha," he said. "I think I understand."

Gesturing to the knights to free me, he said, "It's a bit of a funny story . . ."

"'How many times are you going to save my life?' 'As many times as you put yourself at risk.'"

-Zaara Hayaat Khan and Veer Pratap Singh

*shrugs* I thought it sounded like an interesting idea, but I'm not sure how well it turned out . . .

I'm actually trying to work on a multi-chapter fic at the moment. It's going to awesome and amazing, with kidnappings, misunderstandings, and mutant chicken-thieves (or are they!?) I'm hoping to start publishing it in January, so you have something to look forward to;)