Title: History will tell

Fandom/Pairing: Merlin; Arthur/Morgana (I'm not happy that they're siblings now and that the writers have turned Morgana into such an evil b****, but can't change it)

Setting: Somehwere after S3…

Summary: Arthur's last chance to save Morgana… Oneshot

Note: English is not my first language and I haven't written a story in it before, please keep that in mínd while reading. It was just a little experiment if I can actually produce something readable. I'm sure it's full of mistakes, but I hope you'll enjoy it anyway. I would love to hear your thoughts. Story banner link in my profile.

Thanks

History will tell

"The mirror can't reflect what's absent from your soul

History will tell, if we rose or fell"

- Meliah Rage "History Will Tell"

Camelot was burning... so was his soul...

Arthur Pendragon was racing up the broken stairway, taking two steps at a time. His heart was beating fast, hammering against his chest, hurting like nothing before, but also reminding him that he was still alive. Still having time…

But time was slipping. He didn't need an hourglass to tell him, he could feel it, slipping from his fingertips with every exaggerated breath he drew from the night air, tasting smoke and ash. The wind was freezing cold and blowing through broken windows, ripping at his clothing. He'd taken of his armor to be faster. He had felt like it would have crushed him if he didn't loose it.

Far below, he could hear the faint noises of the battle still going on even in his absence, the clashes of sword on sword intertwined with high-pitched screams drown out by the ears-deafening sound of heavy thunderstrikes crashing above his head. Lightning blazed over the nightsky, ripping it to pieces, tearing open Heaven's gates. Pours of rain coming out of black clouds which were circling over the castle like a bad omen.

His vision was blurry. Sweat and blood dripping from his forehead, but he didn't slow down. Forcing his body to move despite his aching muscles, he climbed the highest tower of Camelot's ruins where he knew he would find her.

Slipping on the wet stone floor, he crashed through the wooden door in an ungraceful manner not worth a true heir, but gracefulness was the last thing on his mind right now. He leaned against the wall trying to catch some breath. And just like he had expected, there she was - in all her terrifying glory.

She was standing at the railing of the small stone balcony looking down at the destruction she had brought upon the kingdom. Her bright-red coat was flickering in the wind like fire tongues tasting for the night, the hood thrown back. Her dark curls were wet from the rain and clinging to her face, contrasting harshly against her ghostly pale complexion. Like light and shadow. Day and night. Her eyes once full of joy, now glimmed with rage and terror, staring both fascinated and terrified down at the battle field deep below.

"Morgana" Arthur cried her name, making her notice his presence for the first time, his voice trembling with some undefined emotions, too raw to comprehend.

Slowly she turned towards him. Her gaze focused on his face in a familiar way, sending a painful jolt through his chest which he had never been able to get quite used to, no matter how many times they had confronted each other as opposites in the past. She blinked several times as if waking from slumber, looking slightly dazzed.

Then her eyes narrowed, a cruel smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Look who's finally come." She laughed, taunting him, knowning perfectly well what she was doing to him. "I have expected you to be a little faster, but then i always had held greater hopes for you than you deserved."

Arthur straightend his spine, drawing the last remains of strength from his body he could muster and took a careful step forward. "You don't have to do this." He pleaded.

"It's too late." She breathed. "There's no way back. No mercy. No forgiveness within these doomed walls."

He shook his head, refusing to believe her words. "This is not you. I know you, Morgana. This is not what you want."

The storm raged on, thunder roaring like a wild beast unleashed. The rain was getting stronger as if the Gods themselves were crying over fate's cruel punishment for the bloodline of the Pendragon's.

Arthur knew this was his last chance. Merlin had told him he was foolish to believe there was still something good in Morgana - magic, the worst kind of it, had burned it out of her. But he knew what he had to do. He had to try to save her, even if chances were slim. He owned her this much and she deserved it, no matter what she had done under Morgause's poisoning influence. He still wanted to be her Champion…

"You don't know anything about me!" She replied sharply. Her hands turned into trembling fists at her side. "You didn't even know i was your sister!"

"But i still loved you!" He shouted back, getting more anxious and more desperate with each passing moment. "I loved you like you were a part of me. Which you were... and i never stoped loving you, no matter how you tried to cut yourself from everything relating us. No matter how much you denied it."

"I denied it?" She snarled, glaring at him. Her cheeks flushed with anger. He could feel her power rising, snatching through the air around him like a snake waiting to attack, making the fine blond hairs on the back of his neck stand up in alertness. "Uther denied me since my birth! He chose you above me! He wanted you to be King while he treated me second rate. A stranger's child."

"I know our father's made mistakes," He cut her off, calling Uther Pendragon their father for the first time, the sound of it tasting foreign on his tongue. "But you can't punish innocents for his doing. Despite his actions, he's still your father, too." He took another tiny step towards her, carefully, not to draw too much attention to his movement. He didn't want to scare her off.

"Morgause's the only family that counts." Morgana said wary. A defensive edge to her voice that sounded almost like… doubt?

"I am your family, too" Arthur cried full of desperation. He could feel her slipping from him. His sanity was hanging by a threat. He knew if he failed… if he'd have to kill her, it would destroy him as well. He wouldn't be able to live with the shame and guilt of having murdered his own sister. "Don't i count for anything? I know the old Morgana is still inside you somewhere, and i want her back. I need her back." He searched for the right words, but his tongue seemed not to be able to express all the intensity of his emotions. Words were just tumbling out of his mouth in a rush. "You were always there for me since we were young. You were there when father was at his worst, his demands unbearable. When i cried in the night because i couldn't be the son he wanted me to be. When i couldn't match his expectations, you comforted me. My strength, my voice of reason and my console... i can't do this alone, Morgana. I can't reign Camelot without you."

There was silence for once, the storm all of a sudden weakening and a stream of shallow moonlight floating through the clouds, bathing them both in white silk as the measure of his confession, more true than anything he's ever said, fell between them. Time stood still as if the world was holding its breath, waiting for this last chance of redemption either to win or lose...

Morgana looked exhausted, more the fragile girl she used to be than the evil witch she'd become, memories haunting her troublesome mind, flickering like shadows across her angelic face. Drops of rain were running down her cheeks... or maybe it was tears… Her skin looked even more pale in the moonlight, almost translucent and crumpled in pain.

"You have Gwen" She whispered in a quiet voice, almost too thin to hear.

"She's not you" He replied just as softly, thruthfully. "She'll never be."

He'd taken another step, bringing him close enough to touch, but didn't dare reach out for her, too afraid she would recoil from him, pulling back into the cold shell Morgause had kept her prison. His heart skipped, then seemed to stop for a beat, anticipating her reaction, knowing it would seal both their fate. Maybe Merlin had been right all along. Maybe it was too late. Maybe she was too far gone… Some things were beyond forgiveness ... either way, it would end tonight… for the better or the worse...

Slowly, so slowly she lifted her hand, trembling, touching the side of his face slightly, caressing his cheek light as a feather, soothing the lines edged into his forehead from too many battles and too many sleepless nights. He wanted to lean into the touch, to dwell into it.

Pressing his lips to her brow, he could smell the faint trace of sweet lily, triggering some long forgotten memory of a better time, though he couldn't remember the conscious decision to kiss her. He tasted salt, as Morgana wept against him, letting the walls crumbling down at last. He held her secure in his arms, for the first time in ages it seemed. Like the brother he was. Like the brother he'd never been before and would never be. Not quite…

She was his darker side, but still the light he craved the most. It was dangerous and stupid to spare her life for a million reasons and there were plenty of excuses to make, but he didn't pull back. He didn't care. He's made his decision and maybe Heaven would forgive him in the morning for being too weak to live without her.

History will tell...

The end

So… i hope it wasn't too bad…