full title: coming down to nothing more than apathy
From "Over My Head" by the Fray
He always visited Morgana, no matter how much she hated him. It was quite a lot too, seeing as she always remembered and didn't need a trigger. The first time he came to her, she'd pushed him away and lashed out at him with her magic. Then she called the guards on him, with her being Queen of a Frankish region and all. He'd escaped of course, but not before leaving her a bracelet –identical to the one Morgause had gave her.
She'd never admit it, but Morgana wore that bracelet all throughout that life.
Sometimes Gwen would pop up here and there as a commoner. It didn't suit her though, not with her royal background. Merlin always treated her as royalty though. They were the best of friends but he never asked her about the past because she never remembered. It was safer and calmer for her that way. And if she remembered then Merlin would brush it off until Gwen was completely sure the flashes of memories were real. Then she'd try to be cross until she burst out laughing and enveloped her long time magical friend in a massive embrace.
And then Merlin would leave once Gwen started to age.
He watched the Knights of the Round Table from afar. They made him proud, fighting for their country, fighting for others. Always chivalrous. And Merlin had though chivalry was dead. Sometimes they met Gwen, or maybe even Morgana, but Merlin always kept his distance.
Then there was Arthur who Merlin could always feel even if he was half the world away. A small flicker in the back of his mind each time the price was born and each time he died. He always watched over his king, saving him from small petty troubles, healing him from the brink of death. And he always held his hand when he died, the last flicker of recognition in those dying eyes.
The only times Arthur ever remembered were at this death.
Merlin supposed it was selfish, hiding himself away in the shadows from Arthur. He didn't want to get attached to his best friend and have him die on him again. Distancing himself was the only way to pretend there was some apathy. Then, he stopped visiting Arthur altogether.
Eventually –albeit very slowly and no one could really blame her- Morgana became sympathetic to her once enemy. Merlin would claim she finally got over her anger at Merlin's betrayal but she'd just blame it on her dreams which seemed to make her more sympathetic these days. And then they'd laugh, just like the old days. Just like nothing was wrong.
Morgana took Merlin's mind off things. He liked having an equal despite that fact that this equal could backstab him at any moment. More importantly, he could talk to her about the old days, about magic, with ease, no matter how deep their animosity ran.
One day Morgana quirked her lip and stopped Merlin's story about the time Arthur had been turned into a rabbit. The warlock looked over at the nervous sorceress who was biting her lip. She stumbled over her words. "I- I forgive you," she promised.
Merlin knew she had more to say. "And…?" he prompted.
"You know Arthur's my great-uncle in this-" And Gwen was her great-aunt yes but-
"No." Morgana pursed her lips, knowing better than to delve even more into the matter. "I'm sorry Morgana but I can't."
"I understand," she smiled meekly. She wanted to argue like her old tenacious self would but this time she knew better. "Doesn't mean I like it, but I understand." She gave a sigh. "Gwen remembers this time; I accidently set fire to my room when she came to babysit once when I was little and then she remembered."
"And tried to give you a proper scolding but failed?"
"You should've seen it," Morgana laughed. "Couldn't keep a straight face at all." This elicited a chuckle from Merlin. Then Morgana's demeanor darkened. "She doesn't believe in you anymore, because you haven't been there the past few times. 'He always went back to him when he was dying,' she said. 'So why not anymore.' But she doesn't get it. I tried to tell her but she wouldn't listen."
"Doesn't sound like Gwen," Merlin mused.
"Yeah, well that's because you haven't been to see her," snapped Morgana. She realized the tone of her voice and immediately tried to take back her words. Merlin stopped her with a tiny wave of his hand.
"Do you know where this is?" he asked to a Morgana who had somehow hooked her arm around his. He gestured around with his free left hand. They had been sitting on a forest floor outside of Morgana's summer home for the past few hours. Morgana shook her head as she looked around. "It's the same place where I plunged Excalibur into. It's still here, if you concentrate enough. You can see past the illusion that I've placed."
And sure enough, once Morgana had summoned her magic, she saw that there was a golden glow in the distance. The golden glow of a bejeweled hilt stuck in an anvil. "I was given a prophecy," Merlin explained. "Arthur will reclaim that sword one day. I don't know when –soon perhaps. But until then, I can't see him."
"So what happens then?" Morgana asked. "The return of 'The Once and Future King?' What happens to you when we're gone again?"
"I suppose I go to Avalon," Merlin mused. The sorceress's mouth fell open. "Careful, you might attract a fly."
"You're completely serious?"
"It's what I've been told."
"Oh, but that's brilliant!" Morgana explained tackling him with a hug. She pulled back. "I mean not brilliant that you're going to die, I mean that's morbid, but yeah that's great. This is all coming out wrong."
Merlin laughed and for a moment Morgana saw the old person he used to be. The lanky manservant, the secret warlock. That same laugh, it never changed. "Thank you," he smiled.
But the days came and went, years passed by and the end of the world came. Rather soon actually. Only two decades into the 21st century. Oddly enough, the last refuge anywhere in England was the rebuilt summer home Morgana had lived in years and years ago. And oddly enough, fate had brought them all together. Arthur, Morgana (who were siblings in this life), Gwen, Lancelot, Gwaine, Elyan, Percival, Leon. All the trusted knights, the queen, their King. Everyone whom Merlin had watched over in the millennia.
Everyone was there but Merlin.
The world was a complete chaos and Morgana knew they would have all been dead had it not been for her dream and the letter Merlin had left for her. So now they were gathered in this rather large house. Anything electrical was down but there was a huge stockpile of food and water, as well as several candles and flashlights.
While Arthur had been scouting the place alone, they all secretly asked if Morgana could just conjure something up but the seer shook her head and muttered something about Merlin. She sent them a wry smile at their looks of discontent. At least they all remembered this time. They all knew their duty to Arthur and they were all together. That was what counted.
Then came night.
Morgana snuck out to the forest. A lake had sprung by it since she'd last visited this spot. A lake of unfathomable beauty. This had to be the new gateway to Avalon.
Then she caught the hilt in the anvil and Merlin staring longingly at it. Hooking her arm through his, she pulled him away and they strolled along the forest away from the anvil. They came around again but this time Merlin was met with an empty anvil and a sword pointed straight at his throat.
"Arthur!" came a yell from the distance. Several men ran into view, followed by a young woman.
"Gwaine," Merlin whispered, identifying to the voice immediately.
The sword pressed against his throat even more. "Morgana get away from him," Arthur ordered.
"Arthur," she protested.
But Arthur already directed his attention back to the stranger with his sister. "Who are you and what are you doing with my sister?" He applied more pressure to the blade. "How the hell did you survive?"
"Arthur!" Gwen protested, wrenching at Arthur's sword hand.
"Guinevere," Merlin smiled, unnerved by Excalibur. He was met with a huge glare from the woman as she finally calmed Arthur down and made him withdraw the sword. "Do you know what it says?" Merlin asked, nodding at the weapon in Arthur's hand. The blonde looked at the engravings. "Take me up and cast me away."
Merlin stepped forward once and immediately Arthur was on the offensive again. Behind the once-king, the knights fidgeted, ready to hold Arthur back but Merlin gave a wave of his hand and with a flick of his wrist, magic-ed the sword out of Arthur's grip.
Without waiting to gauge Arthur's reaction, Merlin kneeled on the ground, head bent low, and offered Excalibur up –exactly as they did when they were prince and manservant. "Shall you accept this oath of fealty, I, Merlin, High Priest of the Old Religion and Dragonlord, do swear to remain by your side until death in the name of protection, loyalty and friendship. My power and magic is yours to command for good and righteousness." Merlin swallowed the lump in his throat, waiting for Arthur to run him through with the sword.
Instead, Arthur took the sword and muttered a thick "Rise," clouded by tears. Then came the punch which Merlin could have easily dodged, countered or deflected. But he didn't, because he knew he deserved it.
"I going to take that as a yes," Merlin smiled wistfully and was pulled into a short-lived, rather embarrassing man-hug.
"You utter idiot," Arthur insulted. There was no mistaking the hurt in his voice.
"Arthur," Morgana admonished gently.
"And you knew too. You all knew, you never bothered to tell me."
"I told them not to." Arthur turned back to Merlin, who'd spoken. "Well, I told Morgana who told everyone else."
"And why?" the blonde demanded.
"Oh you know. The usual: magic and stuff."
Magic and stuff, Arthur mouthed glancing at the sword in his hand. His sword. Then back at the anvil where its scabbard was lying against. He tied the scabbard around his waist and sheathed the sword.
And Merlin grinned that dopey grin.
All hail Arthur, the Once and Future King.
Originally a lot shorter but I got carried away with Merlin and Morgana's redemption.
I always wanted to believe Morgana had some good in her still. This was my chance!