This has been in my head since the episode aired. I needed to take a break from Heartlines and planning that out. Morgana kidnaps Merlin instead, leaving him in the Dark Tower.

He was trapped. No matter what he did, he was stuck in this godforsaken prison. The mandrakes hanging from the ceiling dripped what looked like thick black ink. He knew better.

He cursed himself for letting Morgana capture him. Again. She was always there, a dark shadow looming over him. Darkness to his light. Well, he wasn't feeling very light at the moment.

Once upon a time he would have thought he could reach out to her and help her. Apologise for the poisoning incident. Now he wanted nothing more than to wrap his hands around her pretty little neck and end her and her madness once and for all. No, wait. Her neck was decidedly not pretty. She was evil and mad for vengeance. She wasn't the girl she used to be. Maybe she never was and he had been deceived by her kind face and lovely eyes. Her lovely green eyes that used to be so full of life, were now empty and cold.

Now, swathed in black dresses with a harshness in her face, her eyes were sad. A pang of sympathy struck him, and he shook it off. She was insane, as evidenced by her repeated murder attempts and kidnappings. At least she didn't capture Gwen or Arthur.

Gwen and Elyan were visiting their father's grave, and Arthur had let him have some time off. He needed to collect plants for Gaius, so he went into the forest with his rucksack. Everything was fine until the witch and her stupid little smirk turned up out of nowhere.

"This is too easy," she had drawled.

Before he could even make a mad dash away, she raised her hand and an invisible rope bound around him. Her powers had grown, and he was genuinely worried. A small part of him was impressed by her strength. She had come a long way from being the girl terrified of her powers, no thanks to him.

Now all he could do was wait in the tower and listen to the screeches and screams. He knew she was trying to drive him to insanity. Why, though, he didn't know. He feared she'd try to use him against Arthur again. Or perhaps she wanted to torture him one last time before killing him. He'd rather die than do anything to hurt Arthur. Arthur wasn't just his king, he was his friend. He tried not to let those thoughts consume him.

Minutes. Hours. Days. Merlin had lost track of time. Every time his eyes would close the screams would jolt him awake. He'd hear whispers, cries.

His clothes were spotted with black murk, and he wondered when he'd twisted his scarf off.

"Merlin," a voice came, "Merlin," it repeated.

No. He was dead. He wasn't really there.

"Lancelot?" his voice betrayed him.

He turned and saw his old friend, wearing chainmail like he should. He smiled kindly, and Merlin nearly reached out to grasp at him. He disappeared and Merlin bit his lip, looking around wildly. He scrambled up from his place on the ground.

"Merlin, let's get you out of here," Lancelot appeared again.

Merlin dumbly nodded, eyes never leaving Lancelot's. Lancelot started laughing, and his warm brown eyes looking cold. It was then Merlin noticed the strange glow around him. The laughing grew louder and then suddenly he was gone.

"Lancelot!" he yelled, trying to will him back into existence.

Morgana entered mere minutes later.

"Come. We shall have something to eat," she said pleasantly.

Merlin scowled at her, "I want nothing from you."

"You're wasting away, you stubborn fool," Morgana snorted.

"Since when do you care what happens to me?" Merlin spat.

Her eyes softened, ever so briefly, the look gone in a flash, "Do you want food or not?"

He nodded slowly, and followed her out the door.

He didn't touch the food. Morgana bit into a strawberry.

"It's not poisoned," she smirked.

He gulped, guilt eating away at him. He couldn't look at her.

"That's all in the past now, Merlin. You did what you thought was right," she tried to smile.

Merlin used to live for those smiles, when her eye would catch his across the banquet hall. Now her smiles looked mangled and so sad. He opened his mouth to say something and his eyes caught sight of the bandages and scars on her wrist.

Morgana seemed not to pay attention to his gaze.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, wondering if the hints of the old Morgana he was seeing was his mind tricking him, or if she really was the same girl she had once been. Spirited, kind, loving, clever, and defender of the innocent. Once upon a time, he would've thought she'd make a better ruler than Arthur.

"I too have suffered, trapped at the bottom of a pit, chained to a wall for two years," Morgana shared.

Merlin looked at her, stunned.

"You did not know?" she said with bitter laugh, "I thought Sir Mordred would have told you."

She spat out sir with contempt. Merlin flinched. Mordred was just another in the line of many who had betrayed Morgana. Merlin poisoned her, Arthur didn't understand her, Gwen chose Arthur, and Uther would have burned her at the stake. Mordred quite literally stabbed her in the back. She was alone.

"He did not," Merlin finally took a bite of chicken.

His stomach grumbled.

Morgana snorted, and for a moment she looked like herself again.

"I had nothing but darkness and a dragon for company, Merlin," she said quietly.

Aithusa. Merlin didn't know Aithusa had been trapped, too. That explained why she couldn't speak and why she looked so frail.

"I was more concerned with what they did to her than to me," she murmured and finished off her fruit.

She looked up at him sharply, "Eat."

He complied, nearly finishing off the entire meal. She then made to drag him back up the stairs.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked again.

"Why? Did you prefer my previous methods?" she smirked wickedly.

Merlin turned red upon remembering how she had him tied up and in agonising pain. He remembered the brushes of surprisingly gentle fingers as she cleaned his wound.

He thought he saw a hit of a blush creep up Morgana's cheeks, but it was dark and he was her prisoner.

There was more screaming. More cries. More whispers.

"Merlin," came a voice.

"No," he shook his head, inching away from the apparition who looked like Balinor.

"Merlin," he repeated, stepping towards his son.

Tears pricked Merlin's eyes, "Father?"

"Son," Balinor's sad face twisted into something strange and horrifying. He cackled, much like Lancelot did.

Merlin edged away from him, Balinor's laughs and the shrieking mandrakes grating on his sanity. He clasped his hands over his ears. He closed his eyes.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes and moved his hands away from his ears slowly. Morgana had crouched down in front of him, concern etched all over her face. Merlin winced, trying to get away. She looked hurt for a moment, and Merlin tried to tell himself it was all an act.

"Merlin, here," she tried to hand him a skin of water.

"No," he shook his head. His voice was hoarse, but he wouldn't take it.

"You were shouting and shaking, please," she pressed the skin into his hand.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, taking the water.

"Why does anyone do anything?" she asked, watching him drink the water.

She took the empty skin from his hand and smiled gently, running her warm fingers through his hair, subtly checking for a sign of fever.

Morgana stood and swept out of the room without another word.

"Arthur," Merlin whispered, wondering if he was being rescued. He knew Arthur would come for him. Despite the king's insistence that he didn't care a lick for his manservant, Merlin knew he cared.

"Come," Arthur gestured with his hand. He stood behind a pillar.

Merlin followed hesitantly, only for Arthur to draw his sword and slash it at him, laughing.

Merlin ran back, edging towards the far wall. He pressed his back against the cool stone.

He wasn't real. That wasn't really Arthur. Arthur would never do anything like that. They were friends, weren't they?

This was worse than the apparition of Arthur. She looked so real, so sad, so, so, beautiful. She wore that damned tattered dress, dark hair in limp waves around her pale face. Her eyes were wide and fearful.

"Freya," Merlin croaked.

"You didn't save me," she said sadly.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he whispered, remembering how Arthur had killed her.

"Merlin," her lip trembled.

Merlin immediately moved towards her, wanting to hold her in his arms. She was the girl he had loved, who had been taken away from her, all because of Uther and his injustice. Because of Arthur and his blind obedience to his father.

Just as Merlin tried to grasp Freya's wrist, she disappeared.

"Freya," he breathed, "Freya!"

He ran to the door. Morgana had to let him out, he needed to see Freya.

"Freya!" he pounded on the oak, "FREYA!"

Morgana opened the door, eyes narrowed.

"Merlin?" Morgana looked genuinely confused.

Merlin's usually bright eyes were wild and he looked like he'd been to hell and back (literally). He looked downright murderous and broken, all at once.

"Freya, I need her, please, Morgana, I need to see her," he said hurriedly.

Morgana wrapped her arms around him in a hug, and sank onto the floor with him.

"Shhh, you're not making sense. Who's Freya?"

"I loved her," he said desperately, "but Arthur killed her. He killed her because Uther said so."

He was shaking now, crying freely. Morgana frowned and patted his shoulder.

"Yet you willingly serve Arthur?"

"I thought he'd be different from Uther, I thought…"

"Shh, it's okay. You're okay now," Morgana said soothingly. The last time they had embraced was when he was cradling her as she died from his poison.

"I just want Freya, but she's gone. I have no one left. My father, Lancelot, Arthur, Freya," he heaved back a sob.

"You have me," Morgana brushed her fingers across his cheek, "Come. Let's have something to eat."

"Why are you doing this?" he asked once more.

"Because I too have no one left," Morgana replied.

"No," Merlin shook his head, "you have me."

For the first time in years, Morgana Pendragon had a genuine smile on her face. She smiled not out of malice or vengeance or some plot. No. She smiled because she was no longer alone.

"And you, me," Morgana said, standing slowly, helping Merlin up.

Merlin looked at her and wiped the tears off his face, "I really am sorry."

"It's in the past," Morgana smiled again, taking his hand gingerly, "we have a lot of catching up to do."

Merlin nodded slowly, wondering if he should tell her about his magic. He wanted to see Aithusa, to tell her the truth. He should've done that from the very beginning. Maybe things wouldn't have been so messed up if he'd just been honest. He wanted to make things right. What was darkness without light, anyway?

So, let me know what you think. Thank you for reading.