Chapter Eight

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A Twist of Fate

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One does evil enough when
One does nothing good.

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The goblet fell and brought about a loud 'clang' when the metal struck the stone floor, causing several bystanders (including an already eavesdropping Merlin) to turn and look towards the source of the noise. Morgana involuntarily placed her open palm upon her abdomen, taking an erratic intake of breath. She stepped back and her shoulders slammed against the adjacent pillar. Arthur looked at her as if she'd just lost her head. Merlin instinctively rushed to the spill and knelt down to wipe up the mess and gather and excuse to continue to listen to the quiet exchange between the two sovereigns. Morgana blinked several times before she realized Arthur was asking her what was wrong. Everything was blurry as if she was anchored underwater. She shook her head and quickly knelt down beside Merlin to awkwardly try and help him clean up the mess she had made. Her new dress was now dowsed in red wine as she inelegantly wiped up the stain.

"I'm so sorry," she breathed frantically, trying to share Merlin's cloth to wipe up the red wine. Merlin turned his head and instantly locked eyes with Morgana. Her eyes pleaded to him though her words did quite the opposite. Finally, she looked away from the warlock as soon as Arthur knelt down beside her. "I'm suddenly not feeling well. I just– I'm so sorry."

"Are you alright?" asked Arthur with only mild concern, reaching over to grip Morgana's elbow and force her up from her hands and knees. Surrounding members of the court had begun to stare and whisper about the noble woman assisting a mere servant with such a demeaning chore. "Morgana – answer me."

"I'm fine, honestly," she said in an odd high pitched voice that sounded far from fine. "I just feel light headed all of the sudden – too much wine maybe. I think I'll just excuse myself and retire to my chambers. I'll be fine – yes, I'm fine, perfectly fine."

Without another word, Morgana lifted her skirts and darted as calmly as she could (which was a failed effort) out the Great Hall. Merlin attempted to slip back behind a nearby pillar with hopes of escaping Arthur's vision. He wanted to go after Morgana, but Arthur's keen eye prevented him from doing so.

"What in pity's sake has gotten in to her?" Arthur muttered, turning to Merlin who was trying to conceal his discomfort and anxiousness to leave the prince's presence.

"I don't know, sire," he replied. "Women are a curious species."

"As if you would know," Arthur snorted as if Merlin was nothing more than a pathetic school boy who could be sustained by the dwindling scent of a woman's perfume, "and Morgana is not like normal women. She's– she is different."

"Is that good or bad?" asked Merlin.

"I haven't decided yet," said Arthur, causing Merlin's eyes to rest intently on Arthur's unreadable expression. "Why don't you go and have Gaius bring her a draught of something to settle her nerves. I would see to her, but I fear my father would be less than pleased to see both Morgana and myself ducking out from a feast alone again."

Arthur paused after he turned his back, realizing he had just shared privileged information with his only newly rehired servant. He cringed momentarily and only turned his chin back to Merlin to retort, "I didn't mean that to sound so crass. Forget I said anything, Merlin, just see that Morgana receives her draught and return to your duties at the feast."

"Of course, sire," said Merlin, bowing and fighting the urge to vomit.

"And Merlin, tell her … tell her I – never mind," said Arthur quietly before turning away. "She knows."

Merlin turned his back and darted after the King's ward, slipping across the damp cobblestone as the faint lullaby of lutes and cheerful banter echoed throughout the castle. The young wizard did not bother stopping by the Physician's quarters to gather a draught he already knew would do no good. Merlin was determined path was set on Morgana's chambers. He had nearly slid directly by the ward's chamber if he had not gripped the doorframe as his boots began to skid. However, when Merlin had gathered his balance once again he soon realized that no one was witness to his clumsiness – Morgana's bed chamber was completely empty. Merlin's chest began to rise and fall faster than before. If Morgana had not sought solace in her chambers then where had she gone? A dozen scenarios ran through the young man's head. He was frightened that Morgana had ran off into the night, too frightened to come to terms with her gift in kingdom that mercilessly murdered thousands of her kind. Though Merlin did know one thing for sure about the Lady Morgana of Cornwall – she was certainly not a coward. She would not have abandoned her life so hastily. She had to be somewhere, somewhere in Camelot, and he was going to find her. And Merlin also knew exactly where to start.

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Morgana's hands shook violently as she rushed up the steps to the North Tower. Her worst fear had been confirmed. The stone around her neck would be her doom. An evil beyond her wildest nightmares hung between her breasts, welcoming a threat unlike any other into her home and the bedsides of those she loved most. She had done this. It was her fault. If she would have minded her own business none of this would have happened. She should have left the bloody dagger in the back of the chair where she found it. She could kick herself for being such a foolish child. Uther had warned her that her reckless curiosity would get the better of her someday, and he had the last laugh in the worst of ways. Morgana reached an illuminated torch that lit a dim pathway into her favorite location in all of Camelot – the Cave of ArMor. She had not visited the tower since she had given Merlin a lesson in swords play, and she wondered if Merlin could say the same.

"Damn," she muttered, stepping on the hem of her skirt and ripping it to the front of her inner thigh as she climbed the final few steps.

She stumbled forward, falling to her hands and knees as the torch flew across the cobblestone floor. She hurried to her feet again, her new dress more sullied than before. Morgana slammed the door behind her and latched the lock, lifting the torch from the floor and sliding it into the wall's holster. Morgana imagined she looked a mess. Her dress was torn and filthy; her hair remaining only half in her styled bun, strangled tears fell from her emerald eyes. Morgana was never one to cry, not even as a child. She was infamous for keeping a stiff upper lip when she scraped her knee or even broke a bone. By the time she reached her tenth year, Morgana had suffered more pain and seen more horrible sights than most would in two lifetimes. There was little that could shake the King's ward to tears now but the confirmation of her magical abilities had done just that.

Morgana had not grown-up hating magic nor had she always feared it. What Morgana did hate and did fear was Uther's beliefs and judgments to magic. She would surely suffer at his hand as so many had before her and so many would long after she was gone. Morgana sat on the windowsill overlooking the kingdom. The night had a chill in the air as autumn was quickly approaching but the lights of the city and the stars above created an ambiance that would usually take her breath away. She could not imagine never seeing such a sight again, the mere thought caused her body to quiver. She reached up and clutched her mouth with her open palm, her knees bent against her chest.

Her mind wandered to Arthur's words. Hengist and Horsa's kingdom was powerful and full of rage and now an even more immortal foe had allied her to them. Without any ill intent, Morgana had potentially brought on the end of Camelot as she knew it. If she had only left the dagger alone none of this would have happened…

"My Lady?" a distant and muffled voice called. "Are you up there?"

Morgana reached for the torch she had only just hung in place upon the wall. She was in no state to see anyone. She was on edge, dangerous even and she could not bear the idea of any form of human contact. Quickly, Morgana darted towards the bookshelf leading into a secret passage. A knock on the door behind her hummed in her ears as she quietly slipped out of sight and down the steps deep into the interior of the castle, leaving Merlin to look on to a dark and utterly empty room.

She rushed down the carved staircase into the far reaches of the castle. Her footsteps echoed against the moist stone walls. Morgana reached the end far sooner than she had hoped; leaving her with two choices she had been faced with many times before. She could sneak into Arthur's chambers which was something she wanted to avoid at the moment. However, her second option could hardly be considered an option at all. She had attempted to open the locked door on several occasions to no avail. Morgana heaved a heavy sigh of disdain just before a dim light illuminated the dark hall – someone was following her. Morgana panicked, gripping the door handle with all her might. The door was wedged shut as it always was. Footsteps echoed in the distance as the torch light grew ever brighter. Morgana gripped the door handle once more, closing her eyes and begging the heavens for the door to unlock just before slamming her shoulder into the wooden entrance. No sooner had Morgana made her silent prayer did she plummeted through the previously immovable door. She fell face first into sheer darkness, sliding most ungracefully down some sort of a slide rather than a staircase all the while collecting mud and some sort of a mold mixture on her backside. The door slammed shut behind her, locking itself in place again. She was so shocked to be plummeting into the unknown catacombs beneath the castle that she didn't have time to scream. Morgana took a deep intake of breath, extending her arms in a failed attempt to slow her slide into the darkness.

The hole must have reached all the way to the earth's core, Morgana decided. She was certain that death would be the ultimate end to this fall, it had to be. She was staring upward as she toppled into the darkness, the torchlight disappearing after each passing second as Morgana dropped deeper and deeper beneath the castle. She was unable to make a sound at all considering her stomach was stuck inside her throat, virtually choking her. With a sudden jolt, Morgana abruptly landed on a rock hard surface at the end of the tunnel. She struck the ground with such a speed that she skidded several feet before finally coming to a halt and losing consciousness. Morgana was quite certain she was indeed dead. There was no logical way for her to have survived such a lethal fall, no chance at all.

She was unconscious for well over two hours though it felt like an unending blackness to Morgana, unaware if she'd been asleep for seconds or decades. However, her eyelids did finally open, vision blurred. She blinked several times and as she did so, her ears began to clear at the same haste as her vision. She was lying on her back, staring up at an extraordinarily high stone ceiling that she did not dream to be feasible if she had not seen it with her own two eyes. The hay and grass, or whatever it was, that she was resting upon was so soft and comfortable that she deducted that the texture must be used as a bed or a nest of some kind. She slowly combed her slender fingers through the hay and grass, teasing her senses. She imagined that a life in such a position would be rather appeasing if she wasn't potentially stuck there for eternity that is.

Morgana slowly propped herself up upon her hands and knees. Blood ran down the back of her neck from the gash upon the back of her skull. Her head ached so horribly that she wondered how her cranium was not completely cracked in half. She cradled her head against her and rubbed her eyes. It was then that she noticed a large scaly stone of some sort. It was snuggled closely against the edge of whatever it was she had landed in. Upon stronger consideration the rock appeared to be moving. Morgana slowly, cautiously took to her feet. She stumbled from tripping over the shambled cloth of her dress. When she reached the enormous hill of odd rock she extended her palm to touch it. It felt warm, almost hot, and it was indeed moving in a rhythmic pattern – as if it was breathing or possibly even snoring. Then, the rock moved, it moved and a face appeared. The rock formation adjusted its position and it took no time at all for Morgana to realize that she had fallen into the nest of a large, ferocious, blood thirsty dragon.

She covered her mouth to muffle her bloodcurdling scream. She staggered backwards, falling on her backside and proceeding to push herself backwards. She conceded to crawl into the furthest corner of the nest, pulled her legs against her chest and buried her head between her knees. She could feel the dragon nearing her, the stone shook after ever step. Finally, the movement ceased and Morgana lifted her head. The dragon sat right before her, its face leveraged straight in front of hers, feeling its fire-hot breath against her skin. The beast wore a surprised expression at the sight of her.

"What are you doing here?" the dragon spoke in a slow droll, utter disgust apparent in his tone.

"There is no sign of her in the East Wing," called Prince Arthur to his father, gripping his sword as he darted down the corridor to meet the king.

"Have the guards searched the stables?" Uther asked desperately, clutching his cape.

"As we speak," said Arthur.

The Prince had always been trained to keep a cool and collected head when he was under pressure. He was taught to never be afraid or fear the unknown, but he was frightened now, terrified even. Morgana had been acting strange lately, something had her unnerved and he was too consumed with his own affairs to find out the root of her disconcert. She had run off to her chambers and according to Merlin (and a keen inspection of her quarters), had disappeared into the night. Arthur and Morgana had played countless games of hide-and-seek in their youth and Morgana had always been a rubbish hider; this fact alluding to Arthur that this situation was dire. His father was a wreck. He had been pacing a hole in the floor for two hours, too distressed to leave his spot outside of Morgana's chambers in case of the unlikely event of her willing return. Merlin's hasty footsteps attracted the king's attention as he approached the two sovereigns, both sporting eager expressions for good news. They would be sorely disappointed.

"There's no sign of her in the stables," said Merlin, blatantly out of breath. "All horses are accounted for as well."

"And they're still searching the lower town?" asked Uther, jerking his neck to see his son.

"Yes," said Arthur.

"Search the forest's edge," said the king, "look for any sign of her."

"Yes, father," said Arthur, gripping Merlin's shoulder to lead him back to the main hall. The two young men halted their steps and looked around for the nearest guard that wasn't already sprinting around the castle.

"I know she's still in the castle," said Merlin quietly as Arthur frantically looked around for a guard to track down.

"And why do you say that?" asked Arthur, slowing down his racing mind to focus his attention on Merlin.

"A feeling," said Merlin, realizing how idiotic he must have sounded.

Arthur swallowed hard and surveyed his newly rehired manservant. The boy's chest was racing, his hair askew and his eyes as full of worry and concern as the prince himself. Arthur was trained in the art of reading people, knowing what makes them tick, determining the good from the evil. He could tell that Merlin, though an utter buffoon, had a pure heart. His concern and fear for Morgana's safety was genuine, and that fact both pleased and bothered Arthur for multiple reasons he had no time to unearth now.

"Me too," he confessed, leaving the young warlock appearing relieved. "She wouldn't have left the castle without telling me. You mentioned that you thought you heard someone in the North Tower–"

"The guards searched the North Tower and found nothing," said Merlin.

"But how sure were you that Morgana was up there?" asked Arthur firmly.

"I'm certain," said Merlin with unwavering confidence.

"Then let's go," said Arthur, yanking Merlin by the elbow and leading him to the North Tower.

"The Lady Morgana of Cornwall in my crypt," the beast proclaimed in a ferocious roar. Morgana's heart flew into her mouth as she bent her knees closer against her chest and buried her head deeper behind her forearms. She looked like a small, frightened child – a far cry from the powerful demon of a witch the Great Dragon had once prophesized. She was furiously shaking, trembling in fear of the giant animal of the Old Religion. The Great Dragon leaned in close to the shivering young woman, sniffing at her scent like a predator inhaling the stench of an abandoned carcass. "What a truly unpleasant surprise."

"Y-You know my name?" Morgana stuttered, peeking out from her arms ever so slightly.

"I know much more of you than just your name, stupid girl," said the dragon, rolling its enormous yellow eyes as it settled into a more comfortable position. "I know your past, your present and most importantly – I know of your future."

Morgana had heard horrible, distasteful rumors that Uther kept monsters far beneath the castle walls, but she never believed them – perhaps she didn't want to. There was no denying the truth now, however. Uther had kept this animal for longer than her lifetime, and perchance it would remain long after it would end.

"What do you mean?" she whimpered, revealing only her eyes from behind her forearms.

"I mean, that the bards will sing tales of your villainy and of your hate," it breathed. "You are fated for a lifetime of treachery and bloodshed, and preordained to bring an end to the reign of the Once and Future King Arthur Pendragon. You will watch alone as Camelot burns upon your pyre."

"I would never betray Camelot," said Morgana sheepishly, "and I would never do anything hurt Arthur – I love him."

"Loyalties change," said the Great Dragon.

"Mine do not," she replied.

"Someday, years from now, you will discover that what lies beneath your skin is the source of Uther's hatred," said the beast. "You will–"

"Because I have magic?" she asked, lifting her head from her knees.

The Great Dragon surveyed her, appearing quite shocked at her previous statement. He had not anticipated the Lady Morgana of Cornwall to be aware of her magical abilities so early. The Old Religion prophesized such a magical awakening years from now and this surprised Great Dragon, and being surprised was not something the ancient beast was accustomed to. If he had brows to raise then that would be what he did, tilting his head to the side.

"How do you know that?"

"How does one know the sky is blue?" she asked. "I have witnessed it."

"You're not meant to–"

"How can I not be meant for something?" she asked, confidence growing ever so slightly. "Our destinies are not certain. Why do you think you know more about me than I do?"

"I have lived for thousands of years," it began. "I am of the Old Religion, more powerful than you could even begin to fathom, and I know what is fated for my kin."

"I—I don't understand," she said.

"What do you find so bewildering, stupid girl?"

"Everything," she whispered, shifting in her seat. Morgana slowly lowered her arms from her face to make perfect eye contact with the ancient creature. She narrowed her gaze and took to her feet, dusting off her frayed skirts to no avail before taking one defiant step forward. Though the young royal was small in stature, she appeared tall with poise. Her chest rose and fell with great haste as her necklace fell outside of her gown from between her breasts. The Great Dragon's eyes widened at the sight of the now illuminated stone, but Morgana did not notice as she was too consumed with controlling her quaking voice. "I choose my own destiny."

"Where did you find that?" the Great Dragon ogled.

Morgana looked down and quickly gripped the Everstone in both hands before looking up at the beast again, "It found me."

"That is not possible," said the Dragon.

The enormous creature shook its enormous head, pacing back and forth while Morgana anxiously observed, looking down every few seconds to peer at the glowing stone within her grasp. Large clouds of smoke escaped the dragon's nostrils as he muttered incoherent nonsense to himself. Morgana's overwhelming terror was beginning to subside as bewilderment took its place. In one night Morgana had realized the stone around her neck could lead to the destruction of not only Camelot but humanity, fallen down a catacomb, met a talking dragon and now was being told that she was destined to be a villainous witch. Prior to the feast, Morgana anticipated the most potential excitement she would witness was Arthur returning to her bed chamber.

"Are you alright?" she asked and instantly felt quite stupid for doing so.

The Great Dragon ceased his strides and peered down at the raven-haired beauty with an expression of sheer confusion.

"You are not what I expected," it said.

"Is that good or bad?" she asked.

"I don't know," it replied slowly.

"I thought you knew everything," she smirked, immediately regretting her sarcastic instinct.

"Do not test me, girl," it replied. "Do you even know what you hold between your feeble hands?"

"It's part of the Everstone," she said. "I took this dagger left behind by this old sorceress who tried to kill Arthur after Uther killed her son for using magic. All I did was touch the stone and it instantly took on a life of its own and now I can't get the damned thing from around my neck. And I know that the witch Nimueh is responsible for the stone's deconstructed and now she's mated up with Hengist and Horsa's kingdom which will produce no good, and I hold a piece of what she needs to commit what will undoubtedly be great acts of evil."

"And how is it that you know all that?" it inquired.

"I can read," she said.

"And what are you going to do about all your read knowledge?" asked the Great Dragon.

"I don't know," she said, "I don't know yet."

"You asked me if I thought it was a good or a bad thing for you to be 'not what I expected,'" it said. "What you do with what you know from now on is how I will decide that. You can either prevent a great evil or become one."

"I don't know what to do," she said a bit frantically. "I'm alone–"

"Seek out the warlock," said the Great Dragon. "Find Emrys."

"Emrys," said Morgana with an upward inflection. "Who is Emrys?"

"Why don't read about him?" it smirked. "You seem to be good at that."

"But–"

"But nothing, stupid girl," the Great Dragon said. "If you want to prove me wrong, prove you alone control your own destiny then your mission begins now."

"This doesn't make sense," said Morgana, shaking her head slowly.

"In time, young priestess, everything will," said Dragon smirked, ascending into blackness.

–

She reached the top of the slide that led her deep in to the catacombs after what seemed like an eternity. She was covered head-to-toe in soot, dirt and blood. She gripped the corridor steps, out of breath and delirious. She stumbled over her torn skirts while she managed to reach the top of the hidden hallway, falling from sheer exhaustion out of the secret entrance within the North Tower.

"Morgana– oh god," said Arthur, sprinting into the North Tower before Merlin, sliding on his knees before until he reached her limp frame.

Merlin looked quite ill. All of the color had faded from his face at the sight of Morgana and the blood leaking for the gash on the back of her head. He couldn't stand the idea of anything happening to her. He watched in silence as Arthur gently tapped Morgana's cheeks to wake her. Arthur lifted the king's ward in to his arms and took to his feet. Morgana opened her eyes slightly, her head resting under Arthur's chin. Merlin met her emerald green gaze.

Morgana opened her lips and mouthed one single word that only Merlin could see.

"Emrys."

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A/N: It's been 2 years since I've updated. That's unacceptable. Won't happen again. Your support means the world to me. Thank you for all your wonderful comments. I will do comment shout outs next chapter which will be soon:)

PS: Please excuse my typos. I'm sure there are a million. I'll fix them ASAP.

Coming Soon: Morgana awakes determined to find Emerys, Merlin and Morgana grow closer, another barer of the Everstone is welcomed into Camelot, magical tomfoolery continues...

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