The Future of Camelot

The Words Are Key

Morgana felt cold when she woke up. The warmth she had felt throughout the night was gone, and so was Gwen. A little light seeped under the door from the kitchen, and in the soft glow, she could see Lancelot sleeping soundly. Merlin wasn't where he had been when Morgana fell asleep last night. She heard low voices from the kitchen, so she quietly plodded over to the door to hear what they were saying.

"I can't imagine what it was like for her, Merlin," Gwen's voice was saying. "The horrors she went through, the suffering she endured. You never told me back then. Please, spare me no longer. What was it like for those with magic?"

Merlin's voice was sad and low when he replied. "I feared for my life constantly. If not for my destiny, I would have left Camelot for somewhere I could be safe. Morgana had nothing like my reasons for staying, so she wanted to fight for her freedom. It was a noble cause, but . . ."

"She didn't go about it in the right way," suggested Gwen. "She killed Uther, and didn't even take the blame."

"There's more," Merlin told her, almost too quietly for Morgana to hear. "The mandrake cries she used to enchant you, Morgause did the same thing to her."

"What!" cried Gwen. "That's impossible. When I was under her enchantment, I had no will of my own. I loved her during it, but afterwards, I hated her. Morgana never stopped loving her sister."

There was silence while Merlin deliberated. Finally he said, "It must have been different. I've studied the mandrake root, and there are different ways to enchant a person. Morgause certainly loved Morgana, so perhaps she wished her to have more choice and will."

"If she loved her, why would she put her under an enchantment at all?" asked Gwen. This was a question Morgana had asked herself many times over the years since Morgause's death. She heard footsteps towards the bedroom, so she sprung into bed, pulling the covers over herself just as the bedroom door creaked open. She could sense Merlin and Gwen looking at her.

"I'm so sorry," Gwen whispered. Morgana imagined Merlin putting his arm around Gwen's shoulders.

"It's not your fault."

"I should have convinced Arthur sooner," she said.

"I should have too," Merlin said sorrowfully. Morgana opened her eyes just a fraction to see Gwen squeeze his hand. They parted, Gwen crawling up the bottom of the bed to reach her place against the wall, and Merlin simply lying down on the air mattress. Morgana watched him stare up at the ceiling for almost half an hour before he turned onto his side. His breathing slowed until Morgana was sure he was asleep. When that occurred, she crept out of the apartment.

0O0O0O0

The wind again whipped through the valley around the tower on the hill. It wasn't as cold and foreboding as it had been a few hours ago. It moaned an eternal question, but she couldn't decipher it. Perhaps it was merely a suggestion. She would have to figure it out herself.

"Arthur," she started. She felt ridiculous talking to dead air, but some instinct urged her to continue. "We hurt each other so much over the years. You slaughtered my kind. But I - I killed your father. You made Mordred hate you, but I made him kill you. And when you killed him, you killed me. He was like a son to me!"

The wind howled louder than ever, and Morgana realized that however loudly she cursed him, she would never win. In a quieter voice, she said, "There is too much hate. We have hurt each other too much with everything we do." She sank to her knees. The wind beat around her and she found herself struggling to breath.

"Arthur," she gasped, "I'm sorry."

The world seemed larger than it ever had before, and it was too much for Morgana. She huddled into herself, closing her eyes. The wind felt wet on her face and hands, and the white nightgown she had borrowed from Gwen whipped against her skin. Suddenly, all was still. She stayed motionless and blind, wishing for -

She felt a hand on her back and an impossible voice. "I forgive you."