Chapter Text
Only a few steps remained before total destruction, and there was no hope of help arriving for Camelot. Except… for the flask of poisoned water Merlin clutched uncertainly in his hands like a final chance at salvation. All he had to do was make Morgana drink it, and the spell would be broken.
But he could not do it. It was too deceitful, too treacherous for him, and Merlin had always tried to act according to his conscience. Morgana sat before him looking so frightened and gentle that he could not bring himself to harm her, even though he understood it might only be an illusion.
“Kill the witch, and the spell will fall,” Kilgharrah’s commanding voice echoed in his ears.
A witch?
Morgana was certainly no angel, but Merlin still remembered how they had fought side by side for his home village of Ealdor, how fearlessly she had helped him and Arthur, how compassionate she had once been. If only her soul had not been poisoned by hatred for Uther…
Then a brilliant idea struck him. He would not obey the Great Dragon — not this time. There had to be another way besides the poisoned flask, and he would find it.
“Lady Morgana!” Merlin hurried over and sat down opposite her.
“Merlin?” Her pale blue eyes, touched with green, looked at him with fear and trust.
“Tell me what happened while Arthur and I were away.”
“But I’ve already told everyone so many times…” Morgana murmured in confusion.
“Everything. From the beginning. Anything unusual, suspicious, any signs at all. It’s important, Morgana. Please.”
She lowered her head involuntarily, and Merlin realized she was hiding something.
“I truly don’t know anything else.”
He decided to take a risk.
“I have reason to believe that you are the source of the illness afflicting Camelot.”
Morgana looked up at him, her gaze burning with outrage and wounded pride.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Merlin!”
“But I’m not accusing you of anything,” Merlin said quickly. “Still… don’t you think it’s strange that you alone in the entire kingdom remain untouched?”
“But Gaius gave me—”
“Morgana, please!” Merlin pleaded. “Camelot has never been in such danger before. All those people…” He rushed to the window and gestured toward the square below, where knights and commoners alike lay collapsed in an enchanted sleep. “They could die. The king could die. Arthur could die. I could die. We can only stop this together. Please, Lady Morgana — think carefully. There must be something, some clue.”
Morgana seemed to turn to stone. Only her eyes darted in confusion while tension flickered in her finely sculpted features.
“Please…” Merlin whispered, catching her gaze.
“Merlin…”
“I can see that someone — or something — frightened you. But you can trust me. I’m your friend.”
“All right. I… I’ll tell you. Yesterday I received a note.”
“A note?”
“Yes. From Morgause…” Every word seemed painfully difficult for her. “She asked me to meet her outside the castle gates after sunset.”
“Morgause!” Merlin repeated in horror.
“She was so kind to me. And ever since we first met, I’ve had this strange feeling that I’ve known her for years. I… did as she asked.”
“What happened next?”
“We met outside the gates, just as planned. After that… I remember nothing.”
“Morgana.” Merlin stepped closer again, meeting her eyes earnestly. “She’s using you.”
“That’s impossible!” Morgana shook her head.
“Morgause has been turning you against Uther, hasn’t she?”
Morgana flinched but said nothing.
“She tried the same thing with Arthur,” Merlin continued, “but failed. So now she’s turned to you. Morgause is a powerful sorceress. Perhaps she infected you somehow, or placed a spell on you in order to destroy Camelot. It’s the only explanation.”
For the first time, genuine fear crossed Morgana’s face, mingled with remorse.
“What am I supposed to do, Merlin?”
If only Merlin knew. He was acting on instinct alone, yet his heart told him he was on the right path. Outside, the clash of swords was growing fiercer — Arthur’s strength was surely running out. There was no time left.
“Stop believing her.”
“What?”
“Whatever Morgause told you, cast her words out of your heart. Reject them.”
“I can’t,” Morgana answered quietly, looking at him like a hunted animal.
“Why not?”
“You wouldn’t understand, Merlin.” She turned away, hiding the tears spilling down her cheeks. “Morgause doesn’t need to turn me against Uther. I already hate him.”
“Morgana… I understand your feelings. I don’t approve of his rule myself. But you have to understand — deep down, Uther is not a bad man. He truly believes he is protecting the kingdom. The burden he carries is heavier than you realize.”
“But he’s a tyrant!” Morgana burst out. “He executes innocent people, hunts others simply because they were born different, sees enemies everywhere! He’s cold, heartless! His love and concern are nothing but lies! Do you think he’d spare me if he knew what I truly am? No — his beloved ward would be burned at the stake the very same day!”
“Morgana…”
“I’m tired, Merlin! I’m tired of hiding, pretending, living in fear, concealing my gift just to survive! Without Uther, Camelot would finally breathe freely. Everyone with magic would breathe freely. That’s why I trusted Morgause — she wants the same thing.”
When her confession ended, Morgana drew a shaky breath and closed her eyes, trying to calm her anger.
For a moment, Merlin forgot everything — Camelot, Arthur, even his destiny. He saw nothing except this broken, lonely, beautiful young woman whom he was supposed to kill in order to end the terrible calamity hanging over the castle walls.
“You’ll never understand me, Merlin,” Morgana said wearily.
“Why not?” Merlin replied, swallowing back tears. “I do understand you.”
“What?”
Instead of answering, Merlin raised a hand to his lips, whispered an incantation, and a bright butterfly fluttered into the air. Morgana stared at him in stunned silence.
“I understand you better than anyone else in Camelot, Lady Morgana.”
“You have magic.”
Merlin nodded.
“And you kept it secret.”
“I was afraid.”
“Of me?”
“Of everyone. Even Arthur. I call him my friend, but I’m not certain my head would stay on my shoulders if he learned the truth. But that’s no reason to hate him — or Uther. Hatred is poisonous, Morgana. It corrupts the heart. You don’t want to become like your guardian — cold, bitter, seeing enemies everywhere.”
“Of course not,” Morgana murmured.
“Then…?” Merlin asked hopefully.
Their eyes met, forging a new connection between them — powerful and impossible even for them to fully understand.
“I don’t believe Morgause anymore,” Morgana breathed.
Suddenly, the sounds of battle in the corridor ceased. On the floor, Uther groaned as he slowly regained consciousness.
“We did it!” Merlin exclaimed, overwhelmed with joy, throwing his arms around Morgana. “The spell is broken!”
The doors burst open with a crash, and Morgause stormed into the chambers — disheveled, furious, gripping a sword tightly in one hand.
“Morgana,” she said, extending her free hand toward Uther’s ward. “Come with me. You don’t belong here. I can teach you everything I know. You’ll be under my protection.”
“No,” Morgana answered firmly, lifting her chin.
“Think carefully,” the blonde sorceress warned, narrowing her eyes. “Come now, while there’s still time.”
“You will not have my soul, Morgause. Leave Camelot.”
Morgause turned a look of burning hatred toward Merlin. Without another word, she summoned a whirlwind of dust and wind around herself and vanished within it.
A moment later, Arthur burst into the chambers, breathless from battle. Blood soaked the chainmail covering his left forearm.
“Father!” He rushed to Uther’s side, helping him sit up. “Merlin, stop standing there and bring the king some water!”
Merlin quietly hid the flask before anyone could accidentally drink the poison.
“Merlin, what are you doing?” Arthur barked impatiently.
“I’m coming!” Merlin called back.
As he turned, he caught Morgana looking at him with unmistakable tenderness and gratitude. He smiled in return, his heart soaring in his chest.
Kilgharrah was not always right. Sometimes the answers had to be found within oneself alone.