Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Morgana stood at the bow of her ship, the King’s Ward, feeling eerily calm as she watched the horizon carefully for the appearance of a ship, wind blowing wildly through her unkempt hair. She wore it loose more often than not these days, and even though it only got in the way of her face in battle, she liked the feeling of freedom she never had with her hair tugged and pulled into obedience as the king’s ward. No, she didn’t miss her old life at all, but every now and then she would catch herself staring into the mirror in the cabin’s captain, wondering what had become of the kind-hearted beauty she had once been. The woman she’d become was cruel, ruthless and unapologetically selfish. Life at sea had taught her that it was okay to be a bit selfish and, by the triple goddess, wasn’t that the best lesson she’d ever learned? No one on her ship gave two fucks about the honourable thing to do and she found that she liked that.

Her first mate though, a young chap named Merlin who – despite being a warlock - had been making his way to Camelot of all places when Morgana picked him up, was what you would call ‘a bit soft’. Not that he couldn’t ruthlessly slaughter foes if it meant getting his dirty hands on some gold, no, the boy was greedy as anything and had hardened considerably since joining Morgana’s crew four years ago. It was just that he was prone to crying whenever they came across a killed shark or turtle and still experienced the world with the wonder of a little child. It had always amazed Morgana, if she was being honest, how he could seem so carefree at most times when she could hear how her own voice had grown graver with each year passing.

Still, she was happy. While she had hardly started out with a trustworthy crew, the one she had now – after a lot of deaths, betrayals and new recruits – was fiercely loyal and she’d come to think of them all as a weird, mismatched family of sorts. There was Merlin, of course, the first person she had come to trust after abandoning life at the palace and Gwaine, a carouser they’d picked up at a tavern at some port or another when stocking supplies.
Then there was Freya, a young druid girl cursed to transform into a Bastet at midnight, which admittedly was a bit problematic on a space as small as a ship, but Merlin and Morgana were able to restrain her if they combined their magic and they loved her far too much to not keep her around.

The newest addition to their crew was a lad named Daegal, who had been living off of scraps and small jobs when they’d found him – turned out that Uther had killed his mother and Daegal had been fending for himself for years. Morgana had closed her eyes briefly, acknowledging how her hatred for the king grew some more and then held out her hand for Daegal to take, talking to him about the riches that would await him if he joined her crew. The boy’s eyes had lit up at the mention of money and he’d been quick to accept, desperate for a better life.

Morgause, who had claimed to be Morgana’s sister upon her arrival on the ship had taken Morgana a while to trust – she wasn’t the king’s naïve ward any longer and all of this alleged sister’s talk about wanting revenge on Uther sounded thoroughly suspicious to her ears. Eventually though, Morgause had settled in comfortably to her life as a pirate and, after a long heart-to-heart it had turned out that she was indeed who she claimed to be but found that she was content to pillage and plunder ships with Morgana’s crew and not that interested in overthrowing Uther after all if only she could stay with her sister. So that was what they’d done.
Ultimately, finding out that in reality Uther was her father and not Sir Gorlois came as less of a shock than it probably should have. It was simply another thing in her past. She’d thought about it a bit, how that would make Arthur her brother, but she’d pushed the thought to the far back of her mind. She and Arthur may have been close when they were children, but he had grown into a bully when they’d gotten older and she had already completely cut him out of her life either way, so it wasn’t like she could see him again without leaving behind her very happy life at sea and making a mess of things in Camelot by returning to a life she didn’t even want.

“Captain”, Merlin said by way of greeting when he approached her at the bow of the King’s Ward, his long cutlass hanging from his waist.

“Merlin”, she returned the greeting, “everything well?”

He grinned as broadly as he always did. “Aye. Worked on some enchantments with Daegal. And Cormac and Siobhan finally made up.”

Well, that was good news. Cormac and Siobhan, twins born to a privateer from Caerleon who gave in to the ways of piracy at age seventeen and were usually bonded at the hip, had been fighting for the past week to the horror of everyone on deck. “Figured out why they were fightin’ in the first place?”

“Nah, but they seem to have figured it out just fine. Gwaine reckons it was about something ridiculous. Anyways, just wanted to ask if you’d care to join us for a round of cards?”

Morgana shrugged. “Maybe later.”

“Aaaarrgh”, Merlin groaned, “Come on, Mo.”

When the two of them had first met, Merlin had taken one look at her and given her the nickname Mo. It had something rough about it, she found, something laddish that she liked, nothing like the delicate and elegant “Gana” Arthur would sometimes call her. Captain Mo had a nice ring to it too, and it served well to hide Morgana’s whereabouts from the crown when her name became better known around the seas later on.

“Oh fine. One round before we get Freya ready for the night.” That was the pretty way to say it. Freya only transformed at midnight and even though the sun had barely even set, Morgana and Merlin already had to start casting spells to restrain the Bastet. It cost them a lot of time and caused Freya a great deal of pain too, but while Merlin had been searching for a way to permanently strip Freya of her curse, it was their best option at the moment.

The smile her first mate flashed her at her response was dazzling. “Aye aye, cap’n. Let’s see if Gwaine left some rum for us.”

She snorted. “I doubt it. He either drank the ship dry himself or got the landlubber drunk.”

“Well, Daegal ain’t no landlubber anymore”, Merlin protested, “Proper buccaneer now, the lad.”

“Why, look at you, getting all defensive of Daegal. He’s rather good-looking, don’t ye reckon?”, Morgause, who had appeared out of thin air, teased. To her sister, she added: “So our Merlin convinced you to join us?”

Merlin, beet red at the accusation swatted at the high priestess’s arm. “It’s not like that!”, but he got ignored in favour of Morgana shrugging her shoulders. “Just one round.”

It ended up being three and a half rounds before Morgana finally put her foot down, saying that they really had to start preparing for the night. Freya was quick to agree with a sad smile that it was indeed quite late. Of course, the crew knew how important it was to secure the Bastet and not even Gwaine protested when Merlin and Freya followed their captain below deck.

Freya shifted nervously from one foot to another as the warlock and witch cast their spells; even though she had done this a hundred times over, the uneasiness remained. And then came the pain. Morgana pulled a face in pity but continued chanting as Freya’s features contorted in agony. She said that she could feel something – the spell – take shape under her skin. Freya always had difficulties to explain the sensation, but she had once described it as a million little needles piercing her skin, but from the inside out. Morgana knew that the girl tried to suppress her screams because she felt she should be used to the pain by now, utter horse shit of course. A sob escaped Freya’s throat and Merlin started murmuring nonsensical things to her, trying to calm her a bit. The captain knew that her and Merlin used to have something going between them and although she never knew what had caused them to separate, it was clear that they did so amicably and still loved each other dearly. But all of the love they felt for each other never did help her in the evenings, so Merlin eventually resigned himself to continue with the enchantment, as he always did. When they finally finished, Freya was laying on the floor curled into the foetal position, whimpering in pain.

Morgana felt horrible having to leave the girl there, and even worse forcing Merlin to leave her too, but Freya didn’t like it when people saw her as a Bastet and wouldn’t be in the right mind to register their presence anyways. They trudged back on deck in depressing silence.

“How’s Freya?”, Cormac asked when they joined the rest of the crew and was met with a shrug from Merlin and a wince from Morgana.

“Same as always, I suppose. I just hope it won’t take too long until we free her completely.”

Morgause’s expression was thunderous when she spoke. “Curse that thrice-damned bilge-sucking hag that did this to the poor lass.”

“Hear, hear”, Siobhan mumbled miserably and downed another cup of rum.

Chapter Text

The rest of the evening passed quietly, a depressed atmosphere settling over the crew as it always did when Freya was down there suffering and they couldn’t do anything but wait. Not even Cormac, who possessed great talent for playing the bouzouki and the lute, tried to lighten the mood by starting a Shanty. Instead, they played another round of cards, head only half in the game and didn’t stop Gwaine from getting drunk.

"I hate that I can’t help her", Merlin quietly admitted after a while.

“Oh Merlin” Morgana spoke, „We’ll figure something out. You’re a very powerful warlock and between you, Morgause and me, we’re bound to find a way to break her curse.”

He shrugged, frustrated with himself. Most magic users he’d met kept insisting that he was powerful and Mordred - the boy they’d rescued from a ship sailing under Camelot flags and dropped off at the nearest druid settlement - had once told him that he’d first thought him to be Emrys, a warlock of druid legend. The strange part had been that it hadn’t been the first time someone referred to Merlin as Emrys, but he wasn’t about to reveal that to Mordred. He liked the life he’d built for himself on the King‘s Ward, thank you very much. But he’d never received training or mentoring of any sort, and it showed. Neither had Morgana. They couldn’t even learn from magic books, because they were rarer than pearls since the Great Purge. In the past four years, they had managed to find three hidden away on some ship or other they plundered. They were useless to them though, as one of them depicted dark magic so horrifying they hadn’t looked at it again after they hadn’t found anything on Bastets in it and the other two taught basic spellwork; little tasks that Merlin could perform with his eyes closed and hadn‘t even thought required a spell at all. How was he supposed to help Freya if he had no idea what had even been done to her and couldn’t conduct proper research either?

When he voiced as much, Morgause waved him off. „Don’t be so pessimistic, Merls. You’re being taught by a high priestess now, aren’t you? We’ll manage.“ 

Merlin pressed his lips together in a narrow line. “Yeah. Of course.”

He could see right through Mo’s overly bright smile; she was just as worried as he was but refused to show it in front of the crew. If that was because she was trying to be strong as their captain or if it was an old habit from her time in Camelot, when all that was expected from her was to be gentle, obedient and pretty, he didn’t know. He doesn’t ask her either. They’ve talked a few times about their lives before meeting, but never in front of the rest of the crew. The first time they’d opened up to each other, they were both a bit drunk. That was after a few months of sailing together, and how Merlin found out about Morgana’s background. After that it got a bit easier each time. Merlin would tell her about his life back in Ealdor and in return, Morgana would tell him about how it was to grow up as Uther’s ward. He was the only person she had admitted to that she still loved Arthur a bit, but that she wouldn’t hesitate to kill him on sight if she were to ever meet him again. She was the only person next to Mordred who knew just how powerful Merlin was.

“Oh Merlin, don’t worry too much about it.”, Morgana said, no doubt with the intention of comforting him. When she saw how little effect that had, she added: “But if you really feel that hopeless we can go for a hunt on magic tomes?”

His head snapped towards her. “Do you mean that, cap’n? Like, seeking them out specifically?”

She laughed. “Yes, of course I mean it.”

“It’s hard work”, he warns her, as if she didn’t already know that. “Nobody knows where to find one, and if they do they won’t tell out of fear of the pyre.

Mo looked at him, and there was something cunning and malicious in her gaze - a reminder that there was a reason why she was captain Mo, feared in every corner of the ocean, and she knew what she was doing. “Everything can be out-bought, Merlin, and don’t you forget that. In every single mortal mind, at least something outweighs death. And that is either money or an even more imminent threat of death. So, what do you say we set the next ship on the horizon aflame?”

Merlin grinned “I say aye aye, captain.”

“Good lad. Siobhan, keep an eye out on deck, will you? I think I’m going to retire for the night.”

“Can’t Gwaine do it?”, the red head whined and Merlin had to hold back a burst of laughter at the Caerleone accent bleeding into her voice because of the rum.

“’m t’ dru-unk t’watch th’ steeren’ wheel”, Gwaine protested, slurring his words for extra effect.

Siobhan scoffed. “What, can’t hold yer liquor?” And with that, the discussion was over as Gwaine marched up the stairs, shoulders squared and walking in a very pointedly straight line.

Merlin smiled a private smile at his friends’ antics - Gwaine was so easy to play - and announced that all the magic had tired him out too and he’d be retiring to bed early. Really, he just didn’t want to hear Freya when she transformed. It hurts to see someone you love in so much pain and Merlin loved Freya very deeply. He always had, since the moment he met her. And while he didn’t know when exactly that love bled into a different kind of love, a stronger, albeit platonic one, he just knew that it did, and that Freya felt the same way. Even though theirs was a different love, he would not hesitate for a second to call her the love of his life.

Siobhan and Cormac, both oblivious to the incredulous look all present magic users were giving him to signal that they clearly weren’t buying it, nodded kindly and bid him a good night. With a last glare in Morgause’s direction – she deserved it for that stupid smirk playing at her lips – he exited the room.

Just before he reached his cabin Daegal caught up with him. “Merlin!”, he yelled.

“What is it, Daegal?”, the warlock asked, not bothering to turn around but not unkindly either.

Heat crept up the boy’s neck as he scrambled for words. “I- uhm, I just. I was going to ask if, uhm, are you alright.”

Merlin turned at that, fixing Daegal with a cool stare. “I’m fine.” When he saw the embarrassment bleeding into the boy’s features, he sighed and added: “Do you want to come in?”

He nodded eagerly, following Merlin inside his cabin at the heel. Merlin motioned for him to make himself comfortable as he bustled around the cabin. He did so a bit awkwardly, sitting down on his hand rocking back and forth a bit.

“So, uhm, thanks for helping me with my magic earlier, it was very kind of you.”

Merlin smiled bemused. “I’m glad I was able to be of any help, I’m sure Morgause is more capable as a teacher.”

“No, no, not at all”, Daegal insisted, “I mean, yeah Morgause knows more – not that you don’t, you’re very smart, Merlin, but I meant that like, uhm, well. My point was that you make a really good teacher. You just, you explain stuff so easily that it just sort of clicks in my brain, you know?”

Merlin snickered at the boy’s rambling but decided to put him out of his misery with a “Thank you, Daegal, that’s very kind of you.”

After a pregnant pause, Merlin got up, clapping his hands. “Alrighty”, he said, for the sole purpose of filling the silence. He quickly slipped his shirt over his head and stripped down to his breeches. “Goodnight, Daegal”, he said, encouraging the boy to leave.

“Oh, yes, uhm- of course. Night Merlin. Sleep well.”