Reincarnation fic. Set to Florence and the Machine's Shake it Out. I got the idea for this after having a Merlin-inspired dream. It's weird, because my cousin regularly calls me "Morgana" because I have super long, dark curly hair. And I'm ridiculously pale. I also have a golden-haired brother and my cousin firmly believes I'm evil and practicing spells in my room, plotting their demise.
Regrets
Regrets collect like old friends
Here to relive your darkest moments
I can see no way, I can see no way
And all of the ghouls come out to play
She's been having these nightmares since she was a child. She'd dream of billowing red cloaks, valiant knights, and a land of myth in a time of magic. She'd wake up in a cold sweat, fearing her room would be consumed by fire. It never was. She would creep into her mother's room and crawl onto her large bed. She'd ask her what's wrong, then pull her into a hug. Gentle fingers would untangled the mess of dark curls reassuringly. It was then that the nightmares subsided. After a few months, her mother tired of her fear. After all, it was just a dream.
That's when she started drawing and writing down everything she saw. She's kept the notebooks and pictures in a little shelf in her flat.
Now she's an adult. She doesn't live near her mum. She can't very well call her every time she has a dream where she made a man fight an entire army on his own. All she can do is cry as she watches herself torture a man with striking blue eyes. She rushes to the shelf, and pulls out the notebooks. She starts drawing again, as a way to calm herself or to somehow get her memory back. But the blue eyes always haunt her.
She tries to convince herself that they're just dreams. There's no such thing as past lives. That's ridiculous. She's not a witch, she can't do magic, and she's not evil. She tries to convince herself she's not evil and demented, but sometimes when she's all alone in her tiny flat, the thoughts of another lifetime consume her. The dreams are all too vivid to not be real.
The people in her college classes think she's aloof and a snob. She doesn't want them to see that she once slaughtered innocent people. If she starts to talk about Camelot as if it was real, they will surely think her insane. So she keeps to herself and stays out of everyone's way. She's not the Lady Morgana who needs to be the centre of attention (she never was).
No one will know of the dreams that haunt her. After all, they're just dreams.
And every demon wants his pound of flesh
But I like to keep some things to myself
I like to keep my issues drawn
It's always darkest before the dawn
She browses through the shelves of the bookstore. How she found herself in the mythology section, she had no idea. It's like her feet led her there without her brain's consent. So she picks up a book because the font looks familiar (and oddly comforting).
"Arthurian Legends" was emblazoned across the cover page in gold font. She flipped through the pages, and her heart nearly stopped.
Camelot, Merlin, Arthur, Uther, Gwen, everything comes rushing back to her. She keeps reading, knuckles turning white. "Morgan le Fay" was a witch and King Arthur's half sister. They have another sister named Morgause.
Her name is Morgana. She has a brother. But he's no King. He's just a spoiled little teenager. She doesn't have a dad, let alone one that's a tyrant. She vaguely remembers the man. She looked nothing like him. She takes after her mother (dark hair, same skin tone and bone structure). It's after a few moments of thought that she remembers her father left her mother for another woman, and that she had a long lost half sibling somewhere out there. All of the pieces are starting to fir together, but she still tries to convince herself it means nothing.
She takes a deep breath and in her mind's eye, the man with blue eyes stares at her. She drops the book, needing to get fresh air. She practically runs out of the bookstore, garnering odd stares.
As she pushes the glass door open, she collides with a tall man. She looks up to apologise, but then she sees those eyes.
"Merlin," she breathes and everything goes black.
And I've been a fool and I've been blind
I can never leave the past behind
I can see no way, I can see no way
I'm always dragging that horse around
She wakes up, groggy. She is definitely not in her room, let alone her flat. The walls are painted a comforting blue, and the couch she was on was a dark green. She sits up, taking in her surroundings. Coffee table, a dusty television set in the corner, and a bookshelf on the side wall. She unties her hair from the bun it was in, letting it tumble around her shoulders down to her waist. She sits upright, biting her lip. The man, Merlin, comes in holding a cup of water and offers her a small smile.
"Water?" he asks.
She nods and takes the cup from him. Her fingertips brush against his hand ever so briefly, and she feels a jolt. She fights a blush and drinks the water. She looks at him, now settled on the chair across from the couch.
His face is exactly as it was in her dreams. Large ears, clear blue eyes, and impossibly beautiful cheekbones. She shakes her head, looking down.
"This isn't possible," she whispers before looking up at him. She fights the tears welling up in her eyes. If this is all real, it means she was an evil monster. She had spent her entire life trying to be a nice person and kind to everyone. Perhaps her subconscious is trying to make her atone for her past sins. "This is crazy."
"Morgana," his voice sounds heavy.
She can't stop the tears anymore. Her shoulders shake and she looks at her lap, tears dropping onto the denim of her jeans. She feels a weight shift next to her and a protective arm wrap around her shoulder. She leans into him, tears staining his blue shirt.
Her tears subside and she mumbles into his chest, "How can you be so nice to me? I'm evil."
He lets out a low chuckle and his fingers brush through her hair as if he'd done that millions of times before.
"You're not evil. You were just misguided," Merlin says.
"I killed people," she says flatly. The guilt settles into her chest and she feels worse than she ever has.
Merlin's hand cups her chin, making her look at him. Blue meets green and he brushes the tears from her pale face.
"That was a long time ago. You have no idea how long I've been looking for you," he says, searching for signs of acceptance.
She shakes her head, "It doesn't erase the lives I've ruined. The people I hurt. I hurt you."
"It was mutual hurting," he admits.
She sees him give her a pouch and the next thing she knows he's holding her as she chokes to her apparently imminent death.
"You should've killed me when you had the change. Before I hurt everyone," she says.
All of his questions, such a mournful sound
Tonight I'm gonna bury that horse in the ground
So I like to keep my issues drawn
But it's always darkest before the dawn
He doesn't speak anymore. He pulls Morgana into his arms, holding her close. She wraps her arms around him, feeling like a little girl. She rests her head on his chest. Here they are, two strangers (well, not really), wrapped in an embrace. It feels right. His fingers still run through her hair, and she relaxes in his hold.
"You have no idea how long I've been looking for you," he finally speaks.
Her eyes flit up too meet his, and all she can see is remorse and pain. She caused that pain. She hates herself a little more. She doesn't answer, and lets him continue.
"In each life, I set out looking for you. You were never there. Maybe Arthur, or Gwen, or Lancelot, or Uther, but you were never there," he murmurs.
Morgana wants to say something. Maybe she wasn't meant to be alive again? Her wrongdoings of the past kept her from returning to earth.
"I've been looking for you for over a thousand years," he closes his eyes, as if remembering his searches.
She bites her lip and furrows her brow.
"I have a younger brother. His name is Arthur," she says quietly.
Merlin opens his eyes, surprised.
"He's fifteen. And a prat," she elaborates.
"Sounds like Arthur," he grins.
"But how can I remember all of this, and he can't?" she asks.
He shrugs, "Probably because you're a seer. And have magic."
She shakes her head vehemently. He looks like he wants her to continue about Arthur, but she can't bear to drag her innocent baby brother into the madness. He's a well-adjusted, if a little bratty. She'd like for him to stay that way. Knowledge that he was once a king would make his ego larger than England itself.
"I don't have magic. This must be some mistake."
She disentangles herself from Merlin and stands up. She clutches her aching head and she looks as if she's about to collapse. Fainting twice in one day in front of a total stranger was not her plan.
Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh woaaah
Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh woaaah
Morgana spots the door. She opens it, but it slams shut. She turns around to see Merlin's eyes return to their usual blue after flashing gold. Her eyes widen, and he moves to her. His arms wrap around her waist and pull her into a hug. She buries her head on his shoulder, because that's how short she is, barely reaching his shoulder. He inhales the scent of her hair. Somehow, it's exactly as he remembered. There's so much to talk about. So many things they'd left unspoken. So much hurt to get through.
And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back
So shake him off, oh woah
She's back on the couch, sitting cross legged. A mug of coffee sits on the table next to his tea. She doesn't even know what time it is, but it didn't matter. She was with Merlin. It's like a piece of her had been missing. This grand puzzle piece had found her. They'd found each other. It's serendipity, or fate, or what have you. Maybe it was the universe finally setting things right.
She still can't believe he carried her all the way back to his flat. That's beside the point, though.
Merlin had been through countless lifetimes and could recall them. Morgana can only remember Camelot. It confirms her theory that she was never meant to return to earth. Surely she'll cause death and destruction wherever she went.
I am done with my graceless heart
So tonight I'm gonna cut it out and then restart
Cause I like to keep my issues drawn
It's always darkest before the dawn
Both of them are emotionally spent. Exhausted. Merlin filled her in on what he'd been up to the past 1500 years. She listened intently, carefully, for any mention that she might have been there. Centuries without Merlin seem to be the worst thing she can imagine.
The digital clock on the old TV reads 04:18. She has class in the morning (in four hours, to be exact), but she can't bring herself to leave. To hell with her history class. She finally feels validated. She's not crazy. She finally met the man with the blue eyes who had haunted her dreams since she was a child.
He tells her about how he always found someone from Camelot, anyone. But never her. He looks wistful as he recalls the first time he saw her, through a window the day he arrived. The day of an execution.
Merlin casually flicks his hand toward the kitchen lights, extinguishing it. Morgana watches in slight jealousy. Her magic is gone. He tells her it isn't. He tells her to concentrate.
It takes two hours, but she finally has a glowing orb in her hands. She throws her arms around Merlin's neck, smiling, before retreating back to her corner of the couch.
Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh woaaah
Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh woaaah
And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back
So shake him off, oh woah
For that brief moment, Merlin sees the old Morgana return. Not the vengeful witch, but the confident, passionate one. He barely recognised her at the book store. Physically she looks the same, but her posture makes it seem like she's trying to shield herself from the world. She's too drawn into herself, too quiet, too worried, too fearful. She's everything she should never be and he blames himself for not trying to reach out to her sooner back when they were still them and they didn't have to adjust to radios and TVs and phones and everything else.
And given half the chance would I take any of it back
It's a final mess but it's left me so empty
It's always darkest before the dawn
Morgana's head rests on his chest, fist clenching his shirt, as if she's afraid he's going to disappear.
"I'm so sorry," she says finally, eyes heavy.
He gulps and squeezes her shoulder, "New life. New chances. The past is the past."
He doesn't quite believe it himself, because they are the past. Past, present, future. It's always going to be them.
And I'm damned if I do and I'm damned if I don't
So here's to drinks in the dark at the end of my road
And I'm ready to suffer and I'm ready to hope
It's a shot in the dark and right at my throat
Cause looking for heaven, for the devil in me
Looking for heaven, for the devil in me
Well what the hell I'm gonna let it happen to me
She falls asleep on top of her once arch-nemesis just as dawn was breaking. He summons a blanket for them, and covers them with it. He drops a kiss to her forehead and she snuggles closer next to him.
This felt right. He decides then and there that the universe finally heard him, loud and clear. He has Morgana back, and he's not about to let go of her any time soon.
His arms squeeze around her tighter and she smiles in her sleep. She's not insane. Or evil. She can fix what she ruined so long ago. There's hope for her miserable soul yet.
Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh woaaah
Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh woaaah
And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back
So shake him off, oh woah
For the first time since she stopped going to her mother whenever she had a nightmare, Morgana sleeps peacefully. Merlin's neck is at an angle, one leg dangling off of the couch. She uses his chest as a pillow, arms wrapped around his stomach. One hand rests on her hip, while his other hand tries to hold the blanket up.
She doesn't think she can ever forgive herself for her misdeeds as Morgan le Fay, but Morgana thinks she might be able to live with it if she has Merlin by her side. She can right her wrongs and move on to a life without worries and guilt.
He's Merlin and she's Morgana. It's always been them, and always will be, whether in Camelot or in London or wherever they end up next.
(And yes, Morgana has hope that she'll meet Merlin again in her next life.)
The end! I hope it wasn't cliched or anything. I just really had to write this. Please review!