All That Ever Could Have Been

The steady drip of water and their heavy breathing is the only noise in the otherwise silence of the cave. The magic that lives in here is alive in them right now and to break the silence would be to break some kind of spell that seem to hold them in this moment. The crystals that surround them gleam in the dim light from the entrance, promising a thousand secrets in one single look.

But neither of them spare the crystals a glance for their eyes are focused only on each other. Blue on green, filled with all the hate and love and pain and betrayal that the other deserves and more. One has the other pressed against the wall of the cavern, a dagger pressed against the soft skin of his throat, drawing a thin line of red where the blade meets the skin. Her knuckles are white on the dagger and her breathing ragged as she prepares for what she knows she has to do. What she has been waiting to do for so long. What she wants to do with a sick, twisted kind of pleasure. And buried deep in her heart what she also dreads to do because she knows when she does it that it will be the end. She will never see the warm smile and the joyous laugh ever again.

She presses the knife even closer to the skin, preparing herself, when he speaks. A quiet whisper that echoes throughout the cavern like the voice of a ghost.

"Is this really what you want Morgana?"

And her breath catches in her throat because she doesn't know and she has to do it now before she hesitates again.

"I always said it didn't have to be this way Morgana. You could have been so amazing. So good. So loved. But instead you choose this. A life of loneliness and hate, bitter and twisted by revenge. Is this really what you want?"

"All I want is to see you dead, and Arthur kneeling at my feet. All I want is Camelot destroyed and me to take my rightful place as ruler of the kingdom. I didn't choose this path it was chosen for me."

She hisses into his ear, knowing the words are causing him more pain than he will ever show.

"It didn't have to be like this. I know. Maybe you know too. We're in the crystal cave Morgana. If you can't see the truth here you never will."

"The truth of what?" She's scared, knowing he is gaining the upper hand. Distracting her from her ultimate goal.

"The Crystals don't just show the future Morgana. They show all that is. All that was. All that ever could have been. For once in your life, look. Really look. Look at what you lost."

And though all her instincts are screaming at her not to, she turns her gaze away from him and looks deep into the timeless depths of the crystals. And suddenly she is no longer in the cave but in the grand halls of Camelot. And instead of her ragged black dress she is wearing a gown of the deepest blue silk, jewels at her throat and laced through her hair, which is no longer dirty and matted but clean and glossy. Flowing down her back like a waterfall of black velvet. And she's not alone. Arthur stands at her side, dressed like the king he is and he's smiling. Smiling at her.

And the great stone doors open before her and she can see she is standing in the entrance to the Great Hall, and the court is assembled in front of her dressed in their ceremonial robes. The hall is breath taking in its beauty, decorated in gold and red drapes and mounds of flowers, in all the colours imaginable. Before she knows it she is gliding up the aisle and all heads turn towards her and bow, but she doesn't notice because she has eyes only for the man at the front of the room gazing at her with love in his eyes.

At the head of the room sits Guinevere, a crown glittering upon her head. She is sitting in the throne Morgana always claims to be her own but she finds she doesn't care. Because for the first time for many years she is truly happy.

She stops at the end of the aisle and kneels before the man in front of her a smile dancing on her lips. Arthur, who has walked the aisle with her, steps up to stand beside his best friend. He smiles at Morgana, then turns and sits in the throne next to Guinevere who is beaming at Morgana like all her dreams have come true.

But Morgana has eyes only for the man who she is kneeling before. He is dressed more regally than she has ever seen him and a thin band of silver sits on top of his raven dark hair. But his smile and his eyes are still like she always remembered them, except this time they are full of love. For her. And then he opens his mouth to speak and the words are the sweetest things she could have ever wished to hear.

"I, Merlin Emrys, High Court Sorcerer of Camelot and Advisor to King Arthur Pendragon, hereby pronounce you, Morgana Pendragon to be High Court Sorceress, and my lawfully wedded wife, forever and always till death do us part."

And he reaches over and lifts the delicate crown resting on the velvet cushion next to him, handling it like it is a precious shard of glass. The crown is similar to the band of silver he wears on his own head, except it is made of finer silver threads, twisted into the shape of stars. And as it is placed on her own head she feels the joy inside her threaten to burst out and fill the room, for this crown, unlike the bejewelled golden thing Guinevere wears, and she herself has worn, is not weighed down with jewels and responsibilities, no. Her crown is filled with joy and love and Magic.

And the man in front of her, who saved her in so many different ways, reaches down and takes her hand, and she stands with him, both of them smiling, eyes full of love. Then she is kissing him and it feels so wonderful, and so right, his lips pressed tenderly against hers, his hands on her back like he never wants to let go. And the hall bursts into applause and Guinevere and Arthur are smiling but she doesn't care because He is here and that's all that matters.

Her eyes are pressed shut, savouring the moment, but she can feel his magic rising to the surface, can feel his eyes flash gold under his closed lids. And though she can't see them, she can smell the sweet scent of the roses that are blooming and twisting their way around the hall, covering every surface in a coat of soft, shimmering red.

And she is held in his arms and that is all that matters because for the first time in her life, everything feels right.

She opens her eyes. But instead of the graceful feeling of the silken gown pressing against her skin, she can only feel the rough fabric of a tattered black dress. And instead of the luscious curls flowing down her back, all she can feel is the matted black locks hanging down her face. And instead of the wonderful feeling of his lips pressing softly against hers, all she can feel is the cold sharp reality of her knife pressed against his throat. And as she stares into his timeless blue eyes for what she knows will be the last time, she feels a single treacherous tear, slide slowly down her face.

AN- So how was it? Was it good? Should I write more? Should I leave this fandom and never return? This is my first Merlin story so drop me a reveiw and tell me how it was. You know you want to!