by GR Griffin
Vigilantly gazing between Leon, Lancelot and Gwaine, to ensure they were asleep, she leant towards the bars. Assured they were asleep, she whispered in response to the words in her head.
“What’s your name?” she enquired gently, wishing she could reach over and draw the child into her arms for protection. Not that he needed protection, he was different somehow.
Mordred.
The voice rang through her ears.
“Why won’t you talk to the others?” she hissed after a few seconds.
Mordred studied her interestedly. There was a moment’s silence before dangerous words resounded in her mind.
They’re not like me…like us.
Morgana failed to see the difference between herself and her friends. Narrowing her eyes, she met Mordred’s eyes in confusion.
“I…I don’t understand.” Although deep inside, she did understand. She just didn’t want to, because the implications of understanding were severe; horrific.
Those you hold dear have deceived you.
“Explain yourself!” she raised her voice a little, relieved to find no-one stirred at the abrupt shift in volume.
Emrys and Arthur, Mordred began, never breaking the gaze between them. Emrys- Morgana drew her eyebrows together. She knew that name; the greatest druid of all time. When she had called Merlin Emrys, he had failed to respond to it. Comprehension flashed over her – if Merlin was Emrys then that had to mean that he and Arthur-
-Have deceived you. Your nightmares are more than what they appear.
Reaching for her arm subconsciously, Morgana gazed at the fading Fruten marks over her arms. She hadn’t had any nightmares since Merlin had given her the remedy for the bites. How could this be true? Confused, she met his eyes imploringly. Fear and confusion overwhelmed her senses. The child understood what she was silently asking and continued.
Merlin induced the remedy with his magic, suppressing your dreams. But you are a seer Morgana.
A seer – sitting upright fully, she clutched onto the bars desperately. What was Mordred saying? A seer had the ability to foresee the future, predict events. Morgana was not prepared for his next words.
You have magic.
Wanting to block out the voice in her head, she buried her head in her knees, allowing the tears to mist over her eyes. Magic. Was it magic? It did make sense. She had dreamt of fire and destruction, the very destruction that had come to pass. She had dreamt many things, some had not come to pass yet – they wouldn’t because her dreams weren’t real. Merlin – Emrys – had told her so. The bites, they induced hallucinations. Yes. Her eyes suddenly darkened. No. No. These were never just hallucinations, she should have known better than to have been so misled. All her life they had told her they weren’t real, a mere creation of her active imagination. But they were real…it was magic – it wasn’t. It couldn’t be – Arthur would never keep such an important secret from her…or would he? Given his recent actions, and the secret agenda, she was no longer sure of who Arthur was anymore.
Can you not feel It Morgana… Morded’s voice slipped in her mind, sensing her doubt. Feel it inside of you?
A few seconds passed, and to her horror she found that she could feel it. That tingling sensation bottled beneath her skin, the burning inside of her very soul; the images that haunted her dreams. It was real, it was all real. Panic swallowed her whole, casting her into a bit of oblivion. All this time, she had magic – but Merlin had cast her away from Ealdor. Arthur had played along, assuring her they were just dreams. Merlin had used his magic to weaken her own. Holding a hand to her throbbing head, she gasped.
“How do you know this?” she didn’t meet his eyes, staring back at the dull spot of stone in front of her.
Emrys was hard to see into, but Arthur. His mind was not so guarded. I saw his thoughts. I saw his secrets.
Secrets – it sickened Morgana. Arthur had known, and he had left her here in Camelot. For the first time in her life, Morgana understood truly what isolation was, how it felt to be completely and utterly alone; alone. Swallowing-hard, she finally met Mordred’s gaze. So alone. Her eyes were burnishing with hurt and desire for answers. She wanted to know everything, but she feared it would not bode well. Eyes watering, she gazed up to the ceiling for a second, attempting to blink away the tears. So alone, all alone. Arthur had magic – he could have helped her, he could have tried to find her refuge in Ealdor. Merlin – Merlin had completely gone against everything the druids stood for. He had denied her of her gifts, without her consent. Both of them had committed grave wrongs against her – she covered her mouth to supress the burst of upset. It lingered for a moment. Then bravely she feigned composure and asked the question that had been dangling in front of her tauntingly.
“What else have you heard?”
Chapter 42
A few hours rest was all they could manage without feeling guilty or the need to communicate with each other. Lancelot had been the first to wake, gazing over at Morgana who was sitting silently still, in the same position she had been when they had drifted into the world of dreams. Her eyes were bloodshot, her skin pale. Her glassy eyes refused to focus on anything. She was crouched in on herself, dark hair covering most of her face. Gwaine woke up next; luring them into an air of fake nonchalance in hope that it would raise spirits. He too had noticed that Morgana appeared far too quiet for the outspoken, brazen woman she was. Nonetheless, he put it down to fatigue and trauma. They had all experienced much suffering and witnessed a disaster; even if he pretended he was fine, he wasn’t inside. Gwaine was just better at concealing his turmoil, masking it. Arthur was better though; he would have used it to completely wipe out any sense of suffering in all of them, and replace it with fortitude to bring about justice.
But Arthur wasn’t here.
Arthur probably would never be here.
Leon had awoken next, silently observing his friends (lingering mainly on Morgana who had now shut her eyes). Believing her to be asleep, he had glanced over to Gwaine, beginning to discuss ideas for escaping. How the hell it had led to this disastrous attempt at ‘everything is fine’, he was unsure. Morgana was still resting, her face concealed by her knees. Lancelot was pensively studying the cages, as if he was certain there would be a way to break them. Gwaine on the other head, head rested against the wall behind him, smirked playfully. He glanced over to Leon before speaking.
“Eye-spy with my little eye, something beginning with-”
Rolling his eyes, Leon groaned melodramatically. How many times was Gwaine going to play this wretched game and try to lift everyone’s spirits?
“-I swear to God Gwaine,” he began irately, pointing his finger towards the rugged man. “If it’s bars again-”
Shooting Leon a pointed look, Gwaine sighed. Morgana made no move to join in their conversation or tell them off. Instead she listened to their argument, hoping it would distract her from her dismal thoughts, the truth that was eating up her insides ruthlessly.
“-You just had to spoil it didn’t you?-”
“-This must be the twentieth time you’ve spied something beginning with B!” Leon complained, unsure why he was so irritated by this. Gwaine grinned from his corner, seemingly satisfied with Leon’s response. “If you’re going to play at least chose a different letter,” Leon’s voice rose. “A different thing-!”
“-Shhh.” Lancelot hissed abruptly, bringing the pair to silence. Standing up, he clutched the bars, gazing down the hallway. Gwaine and Leon exchanged cautious glances, unsure what exactly they were supposed to be hearing. Slowly, Morgana lifted her head, gazing at Lancelot forlornly.
“Do you hear that?”
Furrowing her brow, Morgana focused her attention. Gwaine and Leon got to their feet, leaning close to the metal bars that contained them. Beyond the silence of this room, there was definitely something stirring. It was quiet, hushed. But the sound of the electronic doors opening was unmistakable. Somebody was coming through. Releasing his hands from the bars,
Leon retreated from the front of the cage. The guards weren’t exactly pleasant and if it was Valiant – then they sure where in for some trouble. Gwaine and Lancelot didn’t cower from the front, too curious and hopeful to look away. The locked door beeped, indicating somebody had swiped in. With one click, the door opened. The figure stepped out of the shadows, sword clasped in one hand. His skin was stained with mud and dirt, his eyes wild and restless. His blonde tousled hair was chaotic, but his demeanour was no longer that of a broken man.
It was Arthur Pendragon.
Arthur had come back.
“Arthur!” Lancelot laughed in glee, studying the man before them with newfound confidence.
“About time, back to normal now are we?” Gwaine teased, reaching his hand through the bars to pat Arthur on the shoulder.
Leon rushed towards the bars excitedly. The moment he caught sight of Arthur’s face and knew for sure it definitely was him, his features became illuminated. Morgana slowly got onto her feet, unresponsive and impassive. She watched as Arthur turned her back to them, facing Gwaine.
“I’m sorry Gwaine,” he said with a frown. “You were right. I need to take responsibility for my actions,” abruptly he spun around to face Morgana, fondness in his eyes. “Fight for what is right and damn the consequences.”
Morgana’s lips upturned at the comment, despite her trying desperately hard not to pander to Arthur’s pseudo-compassion. If he really cared, he would have done something sooner. This wasn’t just about her and her magic; this was about Ealdor as well. Arthur noticed a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, and studied her pallid complexion in concern. Something was amiss with his sister. No doubt she had mourned for Ealdor and the Crystal Cave.
“You better let us out then!” Gwaine chimed, drawing Arthur away from the woman.
Grinning, Arthur pulled out the card from his pocket. He was relieved he had kept it after all this time. It had proved extremely useful. In his new druid attire, barely anybody would have recognised him now. He was a completely different person, reborn…and now an outcast on both sides. Slashing his card through the scanner, Arthur stepped aside, allowing Lance and Gwaine to escape their cage. He repeated the process for Morgana and Leon, and then for the mysterious child who no doubt was a druid. Empathy etched into his face as he studied the young druid. The druid child studied him cautiously, eyes slicing through his skin. It was clear he knew exactly who Arthur was and what he had done. Spooked by the intensity of the druid’s stare, Arthur turned his attention to Leon and Morgana.
Once again, Morgana didn’t quite meet his eyes, a forced smile stretched over her face. As they made their way towards the door, Arthur quickly swiped it open, he narrowed his eyes at her.
“Are you alright?” She simply nodded, limping forwards.
Limping.
Gazing down, Arthur spotted the bandage wrapped around her leg. Hauling one of her arms over his shoulder, he felt a raging inferno smother him. Had Uther done this, or Valiant? Morgana was clearly injured. Ushering the escapees down the corridor, Arthur dragged Morgana along, keeping an eye out for any possible threats as they walked. They continued down the corridor, Leon and Morgana the only one truly certain of where exactly they were. It had been a while since Gwaine, Lance and Arthur had been in Camelot,to say the least. Eyes flashing silver, Arthur focused on her leg silently. Morgana winced in pain as a tingling sensation spread over the wound. The moment the tingling stopped, the pain didn’t return.
“You should be able to walk on it now.” He explained, a little surprised when she twisted viciously out of his grasp. Striding forwards, she clenched her fists. Arthur trailed behind her, not liking her attitude one bit.
“What happened?” he asked fearfully.
Spinning around, she glared at him menacingly. Arthur came to a halt, examining her in bewilderment. Arthur had seen Morgana angry many times before, but this was different. This emotion stretched far deeper than when he had allowed Gaius to be captured. This anger was searing hot, overflowing and pouring over his skin. But it wasn’t just anger. There was poignancy behind those widened eyes, and also bitterness.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
Her voice was even and drenched in acrimony; it sent an unpleasant shiver up Arthur’s spine. Swallowing-hard, he gazed into her eyes imploringly, wanting to know what had caused such fury, distress and upset within her. She withheld her ferocious glare, jaw clenched tightly shut. The sound of sirens blaring through the building shook Arthur back into action. Gwaine, Leon and Lancelot turned to him questioningly; they were quite a far way ahead now. As they rushed back towards Arthur and Morgana, Arthur passed the key to Gwaine.
“Uther has initiated lockdown. You will only be able to get out using this key-”
“-Arthur.” Gwaine began warningly, knowing where this was going and not liking it one bit.
“-Morgana and I will rally supplies. Meet us by the outskirts of Dresdentian-”
Morgana looked at Arthur; he didn’t meet her gaze. It was obvious he knew something was bothering her, and had decided they needed some privacy. Mentally preparing herself, Morgana felt nausea overpower her system, nervousness.
“-But Arthur-”
“-GO!” Arthur demanded, giving Gwaine a gentle shove forwards for good measure. With one final glance, Gwaine nodded and raced down the corridor with Lancelot. Leon reached for the child who slipped out of his grasp. Mordred spun around, his emerald cape creating a hypnotic pattern in the air. Morgana smiled weakly at the child, fondness brightening her sickly complexion for a moment.
Goodbye Morgana. We will meet again someday…
With that, the druid child ran after Lance, Leon and Gwaine. Arthur grabbed Morgana by the arm, dragging her a different direction, towards one of the weapon rooms. His eyes flashed silver and the foreign tongue of the druids sounded from his mouth. Instantly the door in front of them opened, allowing them through safely. The sirens had grown louder. Red lights blinked red constantly, the normal lighting dimming. It created disorientating patterns as they ran. The sound of people invaded their ears. Gazing around desperately, Arthur spotted a room down the next corridor.
“Come on!” he cried, tugging Morgana towards it frantically.
They entered the room swiftly, the sound of the guards echoing in the near distance. Regaining his breath, Arthur pressed his hands to his knees. He had no idea how they were going to get out. He hoped he had memorised Merlin’s transportation spell properly. Morgana was cryptically silent beside him. He raised his head towards her. Then it all happened so quickly he didn’t have time to react, even with magic. Morgana outstretched her palm towards the door vehemently, locking it. Then she turned on her heel towards him, face full of wrath. Eyes wide, he studied her. Magic. She had just used magic, which had to mean somehow she had discovered her secret gifts. Arthur anxiously extended his own hand for protection, unsure how best to approach this subject. Clearly, she was hurt and angry with him. The pair circled each other dangerously, Morgana’s eyes never left his own.
“I thought we ought to have a heart to heart,” She said darkly, a newfound confidence in her step. “After all, there is so much to discuss.”
“Morgana…” he uttered beseechingly over the sirens.
Tilting her head to one side coyly, Morgana crinkled her eyes; a fervent smirk slipped over her lips as the light flashed red rather fittingly.
“Please stop pretending, dear brother.”
♦☼♦
Her words stunned him, brother. He was unable to conceal his shock, which confirmed her suspicions. They were siblings; they were born of the same father, just as Mordred had told her. Eyes watering she lowered her palm and stared over at the only family she had. Arthur mimicked her actions, desperation burnishing in his sapphire eyes. He’d lost too many people; he couldn’t bear to lose another to his foolish actions. Especially Morgana, she’d been with him his entire life. She had always been a huge part of his life, important and speci
al. Failing to find words, he stared at her dismally; wishing he could fix things with magic but knowing there was no way. Averting her gaze, Morgana grimaced. She’d never imagined Arthur to be the one she would have to face in this manner. He’d always been her closest friend, like a brother.
Incapable of lingering in the haunting sirens, she met his eyes.
“You lied to me!” she cried over the noise. “About everything.”
Leaning forwards, Arthur shook his head urgently. No, no. This wasn’t happening. He’d lost Merlin, Gwen, the people- for a while he’d lost Lancelot and Gwaine too. He couldn’t lose Morgana, he couldn’t. She took a step backwards from him, eyes flashing with caution.
“No you don’t understand-”
“-What else is there to understand?” she hissed bitterly. “You lied about your secret plan. You lied about my family,” voice cracking under strain, she caressed one of her wrists. “My magic.”
The hurt in her voice broke Arthur again. Quickly, he charged towards her. It wasn’t as if he wanted to keep any of it a secret, he had never intended for any of this to get so out of hand, to become so fucked up. Casting her eyes to the ground, Morgana shook her head in despair.
“I can’t believe everything you’ve done-”
Reaching for her, he grabbed her wrist tightly. She lifted her gaze instinctively towards his watery eyes. His eyes were soft and sincere, full of profound guilt and torment. It was a horrible sight, even now after all he’d done. She could see that Arthur was still broken. No matter how he tried to hide it, he was a shell of a man, an echo of himself – he just had decided to try and do something with the overload of emotions. But there was also panic inside of those eyes, fear. An insatiable fear she had never witnessed before.