When Merlin opens his eyes, he thinks for a moment that he's gone blind. It takes several minutes for his eyes to adjust to the dim light, a faint speck high above him all that seems to be visible of the world. Once he can see, Merlin recognises where he is - it's the cave below the dungeons, the one where Uther Pendragon had imprisoned Kilgarrah for so many long years. Merlin feels a pang as he remembers that this is the place where he'd first learned of his destiny to protect Arthur; one he has, now, failed in so miserably.
He's still too much in shock to be able to process his friend's death, or Morgana's betrayal. But the pain in his mind compensates for his inability to think.
The pain in his arms, too - they're trapped behind his back, harsh metal cutting deep into the skin of his wrists, not allowing him an escape. If he moves, he can hear the rattle of a chain, most likely bolted to the wall behind him. The small, rocky outcrop lies directly opposite to the place where he's stood so many times before, seeking advice from the dragon's wisdom. If his chain had been long enough, he could have stepped across.
A sudden light flashes above him, a flaming torch. He sees, with shock and horror, Morgana's face before him. Closer than he thought she'd have been able to get in the blinding flash of her torch, she's standing only a foot away. She steps closer, allowing the torch to linger close to his face. Merlin can feel the harsh burn of the flame, sweat instantly bubbling on his brow.
"Hello, Merlin," Morgana says. Merlin's heart sinks further as he sees the familiar, evil smirk on her face.
"What have you done?" he asks her.
"I killed the king," she states simply. "That was my plan all along. You were foolish to believe me," she adds harshly.
Merlin has no answer. She places a hand on his cheek, the caress at odds with the heat of the torch which she hasn't moved. Dropping the flaming thing onto the stone floor, she stands in front of him, fitting her body to the curve of his. "You were so very foolish," she whispers, and Merlin thinks that he should be more sickened than he is when her lips meet his. When her fingers creep to his groin. After a long moment, she pulls away.
"Is that why I'm here? To be some sort of sex slave?" If Merlin had had the energy, he would have spat the words at her. As it is, he is too tired to do more than state them, monotonous and shaming.
"Mm. Sounds fun," says Morgana, smirking again. "But you're not a slave, Merlin. You have much less freedom than that. No. You're my dragon."
"What?" Merlin asks, dully. He can't tell if it she's deliberately being vague to torture him, or if his hurting mind just won't let him understand.
"Everybody loves the person who protects them," Morgana elaborates patiently. "My father chained a dragon to make the people love him, but I...I will chain you. Why wouldn't the people of Camelot love the queen who protects them from such an evil sorcerer? Who eliminated such a cruel king?"
"Arthur wasn't cruel. And I'm not evil." says Merlin.
"And do you think that anybody will believe that, after I tell them all about how you tried to poison me?" she asks sweetly.
Then her voice hardens again. "The people will fear me because I have the power to unleash you, because I was strong enough to trap you. And together we'll pretend that the one they really fear is you. People are primed to fear, Merlin. They just need somebody to tell them what to be afraid of. They will fear you because I tell them to, and fear will draw them together, and fear will draw them to me. And I will be a good queen. You needn't be afraid for Camelot. Perhaps in twenty years the whole Kingdom will celebrate the day I captured the evil sorcerer and chained him in my dungeons." The sorrow in her next, single word is barely audible. But it's there. "Merlin," she says.
A sudden thought strikes Merlin. "Gwen?" he asks. "Gaius? What have you done with them?"
"They're locked in a cell, awaiting execution."
"No!" Merlin doesn't think he can bear any more death. "Please, please, I'll do anything you want. I'll do everything you want me to, just please, please, Morgana, let them go."
He would have liked to see the brief humanity on her features as she answers him, but the high shadows cast by the flickering torch won't let him. "Fine," she says after a long, tense pause. "I'll see to it that they're let go. Let's see if they can run fast enough to get away before I change my mind. That will be fun to watch."
She turns and steps back over the short emptiness between ledge and ledge, carrying the light away from him. She says, before she disappears, "You'll live here, Merlin. You'll breathe this air and you'll do what I tell you. And you will die here, waiting for a morning that will never come. I want my face, to be the only face you ever see," And Morgana Pendragon is gone.
In the silence of the echoing cave, Merlin feels a deep pain overwhelm his entire body. He aches for his friend, for Arthur, lying dead in God knows what unmarked grave. He'd been supposed to protect him; how completely he has failed. For Gwen and for Gaius, forced now to run for their lives form the only home that they had ever known, leaving behind the boy who'd become the old man's son. For Morgana, the girl he'd loved who, in the space of a few hours, has become unrecognisable. And for himself, locked down here like something ancient and monstrous. A man now destined to become a story told to naughty children to force them to behave. In the darkness, Merlin falls to his knees, allowing the sharp stone to pierce his bones. He weeps.