Morgana groaned in her sleep, her raven head tossing relentlessly upon her silk pillow. Her eyes flashed gold beneath her lids, her irises darting back and forth. Arthur appeared before her, his face solemn and his eyes cold, the image glitch-like in appearance. The witch shivered in her sleep, the prince's eyes chillingly reminding her of his father's own. The image changed then, and Morgana gasped aloud.

Merlin, Arthur's very own man-servant, stared up at his prince, his eyes broken and red-rimmed. He was tied up, his arms bound with a robe, behind his back. Merlin was tied to a stake. Morgana's breath quickened, confused still as the dream shifted once more to see Arthur nodding his head to someone—or something.

Fire! Fire! Morgana wanted to cry as she saw a hand light the hay beneath Merlin's boots. Merlin! Merlin! The witch roared in her unconsciousness, tears running down her cheeks as Merlin began to cry out in pain. It was horrific to watch, the man she now considered a friend, as Merlin's skin bubbled and darkened, his youth being destroyed as the flames licked at his face—at his very blood.

Morgana was weeping openly in her sleep now, her nightmare yet to relinquish her. Arthur's facial expression never changed. It was so cold. The prince continued to watch as Merlin screamed his name for the very last time, unfazed. The last thing she saw was the light leaving Merlin's blue eyes—the man no longer a man…no longer alive.

Morgana woke sobbing, the lady trembling in fear and nausea. She covered her mouth as she felt she was about to be sick. Oh Gods, she could smell it still…Merlin's flesh. Her clammy hands wrapped themselves around her clean chamber pot just in time before she was puking her guts out.

What was happening? Why did she see such a thing? Morgana was weeping harder as she tried to think of what Merlin could have done—would do—to deserve such a punishment. Merlin was her friend—was Arthur's friend (even if he didn't admit it out loud). Merlin was a sweet man, possibly too kind for his own good, and her heart had just begun to beat a little harder when he smiled at her.

Morgana's dreams were coming true, as of late, and the thought of that alone had her puking once more. Arthur and Sofia, she knew that something had happened—something Merlin luckily intervened. Morgana wiped her mouth quickly, happy that Gwen hadn't barged in like she had before. The lady pushed her raven locks from her face and pinned her hands there, pacing.

Merlin was going to die. Merlin was going to die by Arthur's hand. Morgana closed her eyes, trying to think of how everything appeared. Arthur was as he was now—young, not a shadow of a beard in sight, no wrinkles—so that meant that, if her dream was to happen, it would happen soon.

"No," Morgana gasped hotly, beads of sweat rolling down her face to chase after her tears. She rushed to the window and pulled back the blinds, half tearing them off the rod. She blinked as the sun attacked her unprepared irises, hissing and covering her eyes. Laughter caught her ears and her blood ran cold as she looked down.

Arthur and Merlin were bickering as usual, Arthur clutching one armored shoulder a little too overdramatically. Usually Morgana would roll her eyes when Arthur went to push Merlin. Not this time. When she saw Arthur push Merlin a little too harshly, the gangly man swaying on his feet, she saw red behind her eyes. All of a sudden the glass cracked, jagged lines like veins cutting across Arthur's neck like a sign. Morgana chose to ignore this, her emerald eyes locking onto Arthur as if she expected him to run Merlin through with the sword he had in his hand.

Morgana hated Uther and now her blood began to run cold for his son. The raven beauty looked down at Merlin worriedly despite watching as the poor fool's head flew back in a fit of laughter, unknowing of his cruel fate. It was his laugh that had her heart swell in her chest, as well as her eyes. She could not let this happen. Merlin could not die…never. She would not allow it.

Morgana ran from her room, grabbing her robe on the way out, damning shoes. She almost ran into Guinevere then, her handmaiden looking at her teary eyes and flushed face with thousands of questions Morgana just could not answer. She flew from her room, her tears running down her face unbidden. She had to warn Merlin. No. She had to save Merlin.

A/N: Hey guys! I've been trying to write this story down for a loonnnggg time now. As said before, this is based on my YouTube vid "Where the Lonely One's Roam" Dark!Merlin & Morgana! I finally wrote it down and I'm super excited about it. Hopefully the writing continues to flow as nicely as this chapter did haha.

Song: "Where the Lonely One's Roam" by Digital Daggers.

Leave me a comment? You like it? Leave it? Let me know! :)

Best wishes as always,

Lthien