[Merlin]Until the colours would wash away the grey(complete)

Until the colours would wash away the grey
Tv show: Merlin
Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to Shine and BBC. I make no profit from this endeavor.
Spoiler: No real spoiler for season 3. I actually ignore most of the season, and everything happen before 3x05.
Status: Finished
Rating: K
Author's Notes: Many, many thanks to dollop_head for betaing this fic for me.
Fic written for doylefan22, via the merlin_holidays exchange.
Summary: Morgana is back at Camelot after her year with Morgause. She should be strong and hate everyone, but she can’t make herself hate Arthur no matter how hard she tries.


It was morning in Camelot but outside everything was still dark. Morgana was looking through her window, down to the pavement. People were already starting to wake up while a few others were going back home to sleep, but there was barely any movements in the courtyard. It was silent all around and she liked it. She liked this absence of noise that deafened her during the day. Lately she had made a point to wake up as early as she could to enjoy the silence and think. It was terrifying to think but she had to; she couldn’t keep on going with her thoughts attacking her during the day when she least expecting them. She needed to make everything clear again, even if it was hard, even if all the pain was on her and that she was all alone in this. She couldn’t rely on Morgause this time and she long gave up the right to rely on Gwen… and Arthur.
Arthur…
He was what was troubling her so much. She loved him and yet she was supposed to hate him. She thought she did but she didn’t, and no matter how hard she fought to hate him she couldn’t stop loving him, and her thought kept harassing her. It needed to stop. Morgause had made it clear to her.
For once she didn’t smile at the thought of her sister. She loved her, much more than she could ever tell. She saved her life in so many ways. She literally saved her life after she had been poisoned by Merlin, but most importantly she opened her eyes to a brand new world, a magic world, a world of violent colours. Morgause had shown her who she really was and she had opened the door of this other world for her. Morgana had submitted to it. How could she have resisted? She had never felt so alive than with Morgause. She had learned to embrace her magic and she liked to feel free to be able to cherish it and use it. She wasn’t afraid of magic any longer. She knew what world it opened and this world was nothing like the grey one she had known for so long. It was full of colour and freedom.
She inhaled deeply.
She had thought things would be simple once she would be back to Camelot. She had learned to use magic, she had learned to see right from wrong and she knew that everything and everyone in Camelot was wrong, including Gwen. Including Arthur. She didn’t need convincing or thinking to know that Merlin was wrong.
She had understood that she didn’t belong in Camelot. She had always known it but never admitted it and finally she could see it, she could see it because she found this other place where she belonged. She belonged among the magic people, among those that weren’t wrong and evil, but loving and caring and good to her. But when she set foot in Camelot again, something in her stirred and ached like never before. Something she thought she had killed. She loved Gwen. She loved Arthur.
She had tried her best to conceal those feelings, to kill them once and for all. She had tried to convince herself that they were false, that they had just aroused from her old habits, that her old self was awakening out of nostalgia from her childhood and happy times. But she knew those feelings were false and embellished because she had had to make them better in order to survive in Camelot. Morgause had made her see that. So she just had to impose a harder self discipline on herself and master her feelings once more, like she did when she had been away with Morgause. But it didn’t work. And even Morgause saw through her. But this hadn’t been a surprised to Morgana. Her sister could see through her like an open book and sometimes Morgana thought Morgause could read her mind, could feel what she felt at the same time. After all, she was magic. But more than that, there was a bond between them, so strong that Morgana had been terrified at the violence of it at first. But she had learned to embrace it and saw it wasn’t something to be afraid of but something marvellous, something she had never truly know before. Love. Love at a degree to burn herself and to lose herself in it. And she almost did, but Morgause showed her that she, Morgana, could exist on her own, too, and could be powerful and magnificent on her own. That is why when Morgana admitted to her that she had to fight her false feelings for Gwen and Arthur, Morgause had encouraged her and not punished her for having those feelings again. Morgana thought that maybe it would have been best to be punished this time, to be yelled at, to be pushed back into fears… because now she was afraid to tell Morgause she still had those feelings and that no matter how hard she tried they wouldn’t go away. Well… her feelings for Gwen were easier to ignore. It was enough to remind herself that Gwen was a servant girl and the distance she had carefully created between them two years ago was usually enough to make Gwen not care so much for her. But Arthur… Her heart ached at the thought of him. She wanted to stop thinking about him and busy herself in her magic training, but she knew she shouldn’t. She had to sort those feelings, she had to erase them and convince her body and heart that those feelings were false.
She closed her eyes and sat on a chair.
Arthur…
She remembered how arrogant he had been the first time he had seen her and how humiliated he had been when she had crept in his room for the first time, waking him in the middle of the night and beating him in a fight.
A smile appeared on the corner of her mouth. He had been her friend then. No! She couldn’t think like that. He had been her friend only because she had no one and he had no one. They were pity friends. Nothing else. But then… he had been the one to comfort her the nights when she couldn’t stop crying over her father’s death. His arms had held her close and made her feel safe. He had been the one to share his deepest thoughts and fears with her. She had equally confided in him and he had never betrayed her, no matter how angry she could make him. He had always kept everything a secret between them, a safe island, a world of their own where no one else existed and where nothing else mattered.
She opened her eyes.
She needed to see what was real, she needed to see the cold stones of the walls of her room to remind herself where she was, when she was. She wasn’t a kid anymore and if Arthur knew who she was, what she was, he would… he would… no… yes… he would have her executed. She didn’t belong in his world anymore. She couldn’t confide in him as she used to because he was wrong and would always be. Yes, he helped Mordred escape but he still exterminated families of druids to rescue her. He killed them because they were magic, not because they did something wrong. And he let so many people die because of magic. He didn’t oppose his father and never would. Camelot was first in his mind and heart. She wasn’t. She was magic. She was the enemy. He was her enemy.
Yes, he was the enemy.
The first light of morning appeared through her window, breaking the peace of the dark, and suddenly she was afraid. No, Arthur wasn’t the enemy; she couldn’t say that, she couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t… She bent her head, feeling tears coming up to her eyes. She heard the creak of her door. Gwen was coming. In one swift movement she stood up and went to the window, looking outside, her back to Gwen and trying to recompose herself. She took a deep breath, thought of Morgause preparing a new plan for them and smirked. She was ready for the day. No more thoughts of Arthur, no more evil thoughts of love in Camelot. That was something impossible and she knew it, the light would show it to her, make it clear again, reassure her.

--- * ---

Daylight was easy, daylight was safe. She had to focus, she had to constantly work on her role. Things were easier than in the very beginning when she had had to control herself very hard not to kill Uther here and there, but now she had found her pace, her routines, her excuses and her mental barriers. It was almost easy and natural to be in Camelot again, to pretend everything was fine when everything was not. Daylight made it easy and having to be in control all the time exhausted her in a good way. Her wrong thoughts couldn’t really surface in her. And so, she hated Arthur as much as she hated the rest of the people in Camelot. She hated Camelot so much during the day that even the food tasted wrong and poisonous.
And sometimes, at night, she was too tired from her self control and restraint of the day, and she was too tired from her nocturnal magic practices. Those times she fell asleep as soon as she touched the soft silk of her bed and only awoke as the sun was rising. And in those moments, all was good. She was happy and the world was full of magnificent colours; the world was hers, ready to be taken and reshaped. All she had to do was listen to her magic, feel the bond between Morgause and her, and all was right.

But those moments didn’t last more than three days straight. Arthur always came back in her thoughts and it ached in her heart. She had tried to avoid him but that didn’t work. She found herself attracted back to him, as if her body had a need of its own to feel the presence of Arthur close to her again, to feel the safety of his smile. It wasn’t the same as before, though, and of course she realised her body had tricked her and that she still needed to master it. Arthur wasn’t the same. Arthur didn’t read her eyes anymore and he didn’t stop everything to take her into his arms and stay with her silently for hours and hours until she would break the silence to tell him what was wrong. Instead he talked for a bit, confided in her just a little to fuel her false feelings and then went back to his duties, not having any more nights or days to spend with her, to waste with her. So why did her body persisted? Why did this longing for Arthur, this pain for him kept coming back to her so much. Why?

It was night time again --she wouldn’t sleep. She needed to sort things out, to have the time to do so and not be interrupted by the first morning lights. She took a deep breath, trying to do something to prepare herself from being immerged in her unnatural feelings for Arthur, to be prepared to fight back and argue with herself that all she thought, all she felt, was wrong and could never be right, that it was just a trick of her memory to find something good in her past times in Camelot.
She decided to make a list of things that she thought were good about Arthur, that she thought were signs of Arthur caring for her. And as she would go along she would destroy those images and thoughts until nothing false remains and the truth had been uncovered. She decided to start with the present. The past didn’t matter and it was biased by the need she had had to make things better, to imagine things better to survive. Plus, if she was convinced that she could destroy the present, the past would reveal itself in its true light.

Point one: Arthur cared about Gwen even if she was just a serving girl. He cherished her and was ready to rescue her if needed. Refutation: it was all wrong. Arthur might care about her, might be ready to rescue her but only for his own private enjoyment. He didn’t and would never care enough to break the rules. If he truly loved her, he would make her his princess, his future queen. He would defy his father and set an example for a better Camelot. But he didn’t.
Point two: Arthur rescued her, checked on her, made more effort to see her than two years ago. Refutation: those moments never lasted long and not one time did he make her pass over his duties like he used to. He didn’t creep in her bedroom at night and he didn’t take her into his arms to tell her everything was okay. No, instead he took her in his arms once and told her he was glad she was safe, but that was all. Just one hug and he thought everything was alright with her if she told him so. That was proof he didn’t care because if he did he would have seen the desperate cry of her body toward him. He was blind like his father. Like Uther.
Point three: there was no point three. There was nothing supposedly good to add about Arthur this year. He was as wrong as his father. He tried to maintain a façade of good appearance and honesty but he was corrupted and would never be a better man. He was following his father footsteps and would never rise above him, would never see the world in colour, would never accept a world that wasn’t grey. Yes he was wrong, her feelings were wrong. It was all masquerade, she could see now, a trick of her mind to make her see Arthur as good while he wasn’t. She smirked and went to bed satisfied with herself. Arthur was bad and evil and would never be good. End.

--- * ---

It worked. She could look at Arthur during daylight and hate him fully, despise him. She could go to bed at night and smile at one more day in which she had deceived everyone, one more day in which they have been all blind and her, mistress of every situation, recording everything for future reference to Morgause. She had been perfect, magnificent.
A week later, when she awoke and knew, deeply knew, she was wrong about Arthur. She didn’t understand this feeling. There were images in her head trying to surface, images trying to impose themselves to her. Blurry, distant images--far away feelings. And yet all familiar, like the dreams she used to have that frightened her so much. She was having dreams. But how? The bracelet Morgause gave her… Her bracelet was still around her wrist. It was there, like a safe anchor allowing her to sleep like everyone, channelling her magic outside of her body to let her rest. So why did she feel wrong about Arthur ? Why was she convinced that he was a good man, that he would make the world colourful if only she let him? She knew her dreams weren’t always right, she knew the feelings could be misleading because the future wasn’t fixed and she could shape it, change it and bend it to her ways. But what if her dreams were right this time? What if she let them be right? No. She shouldn’t - couldn’t - think like this. Arthur was not her world; Arthur couldn’t see the colours.
She got out of bed and resolutely started to practice magic to tear her thoughts away of the vague images and feelings of her dream that was confusing her body and mind.

At breakfast she kept silent and avoided Arthur's gaze. She felt trapped and insecure, and it angered her because she was supposed to be above them all, she was supposed to be past her mixed feelings and obviously she was not. There was something seriously wrong with her, something that could make everything fail and she couldn’t allow that. She couldn’t allow this grey world to win. Oh no. She wanted her colourful visions to win, she wanted a world in which everyone could live and breathe and laugh and love. And no one but her at this table could make it happen.
She made her excuses as soon as decently possible and went to close herself in her room, not wanting to see anyone. She needed to focus and do it fast. She didn’t want to disappoint Morgause, she didn’t want to have to lie to her when she would next see her. She needed to be strong, she needed to show her she was like her, that she wasn’t weak. Weak wasn’t allowed in her world, not when she knew how magnificent she could be, what she should be all the time.
A knock on her door disturbed her thoughts. She didn’t even have the time to reply that her door opened and there was Arthur, standing in the entrance, looking at her with pain in his eyes. He closed the door and leaned against it, looking tenderly at her.
“Morgana…”
She stared at him, immobilized by her feelings. She couldn’t speak. She was too scared of what would come out of her mouth if she did. She wasn’t sure which of anger; love or duty would come first at this moment. Seeing she wasn’t going to speak, Arthur took a step forward and sat on a chair next to hers.
“It’s been weeks since you’ve been back.”
His voice wasn’t normal. It was… It was this voice she had known so well, this voice that cared, this true voice that was reserved for her only.
“I’ve waited. I didn’t want to push you into talking to me because you’ve never been the kind to talk when pushed into it. But Morgana, you’re still avoiding me and not saying anything. I’m here. I’m still here for you. I want you to know that.”
He paused to take a deep breath and his gaze intensified on her.
“I know you, Morgana, better than you think I do. I have kept watched on you and I know something has changed, something is different.”
He lowered his gaze.
“I wish you would trust me and remember I’m here for you. Always.”
He looked in her eyes again. She kept staring at him, trying to keep a blank face. She couldn’t let any emotions pass on her face, not even one glimpse. It wasn’t safe.
Arthur painfully smiled at her and tentatively raised a hand to her cheek, caressing it slowly, affectionately.
“Wherever you’ve gone, Morgana, don’t forget I still love you. Our world will exist for as long as we believe in it. And I do. Do you?”
Morgana opened her mouth. She wanted to tell him that no, she didn’t. That it had been stupid childhood dreams, that it had been tricks to maintain her alive but that today it didn’t exist anymore, that she knew it was a fake world. But nothing came out of her mouth. He throat was dry and she was unable to find words.
Arthur took his hands away from her face and got up from the chair to go sit at Morgana’s desk. He took out some ink and paper and started to write. Morgana stayed still for a few seconds, shocked at seeing him stay in her room.
“What…”
Her voice was hoarse. She swallowed and tried again.
“What are you doing?”
“Staying here until you decide to speak to me. This cannot last, Morgana. I almost lost you this past year. I thought I had lost you and I am not going to let you drift away now that I found you.”
“Arthur…”
Her voice was suddenly tender, a smile in it. What was happening to her? Why was she feeling so warm and safe and like everything was alright, like Arthur wasn’t grey? She felt drunk. She shook her head, trying to regain control over herself but she couldn’t. She felt playful, her old habits taking control over her. Inside her she was panicking, she didn’t understand what was happening to her and how easily she was losing control at seeing Arthur being like he was in her memories. Hadn’t they been fake after all? Was she wrong? Her? Wrong?
In one painful effort, she tried to master herself and said,
“Arthur, we’re not ten anymore.”
We’re not ten, and I am not scared and alone anymore. I don‘t need you.
Arthur walked away from the desk to come closer to Morgana.
“You’re right. We’re not ten. But I’m still here for you. Promise me you’ll come talk to me”
And before she could think, she answered.
“I promise.”
Arthur leaned closer to her and kissed her cheek.
“Don’t forget this promise.”
And he walked out of her room.
She was left alone. She wanted to collapse on the floor, she wanted to break down in tears, she wanted to forget everything and start all over again. She didn’t understand what had just happened. She didn’t want to understand it because she was afraid of what it could mean and she wasn’t sure she was prepared to face it. But she didn’t collapse. She stayed upright and still, very still, letting the battle fire inside her, not outside her. She needed to maintain self control on her external body, she needed it to remind how strong and in control she was. She just needed to be able to remain still and everything would be alright. Everything would be alright…

But nothing was alright after that morning. That night the dream was clearer to her. The images were still imperfect but she could discern them better and she couldn’t deny what she saw. She couldn’t ignore the fact that Arthur was ruling a colourful world in her dreams, that he wasn’t bad. He wasn’t wrong and corrupted and vicious. He was… good. Like in their childhood plans, he was good and magnificent.

--- * ---

She let days pass by, trying to ignore her dreams, trying to ignore her deep feelings that she was wrong about Arthur and that she needed to do something about it. But it wasn’t working; it wasn’t going away because she was pretending it wasn’t there. So once more she decided to stay awake one night and sort out everything like she had learned to, on her own.
That night she thought again and again about Arthur and the morning he had come in her room. She tried as hard as she could to find a flow in him, to find something wrong that would betray a masquerade. But there was nothing. He had been true. But worst of all, she had promised she would talk to him. How could she? He wasn’t ready, she could tell. He was not as good as he appeared to be in her vision. Maybe he was going towards the right path, maybe he could change things and defy his father, but not now. Not yet. But… One day… one day he would. And if she killed him, what would happen? Would she really win? Was she strong enough? Morgause thought so, Morgause proved her so. Together they were strong enough to win this war, together they could change the world. But… what if they had missed something? What if to bring colours to this world and change it they needed Arthur? What if he was a key player in this game? What if they had to rule all three of them to make the world colourful, one and united?
Those questions were harassing her, she couldn’t stop them and the more she deepened her thoughts, the more she felt like she had found a solution. Arthur was a key player in this war. It would explain everything. The dreams, the deep feelings of longing and the impossibility to shake off Arthur off her mind and body no matter how hard she tried. Now she could see and it all made sense.
She smiled.
Arthur shouldn’t die; he should live and be glorious with Morgause and her. But as she remembered Morgause, it suddenly occurred to her that she would have to convince her of that discovery. She would have to make her understand that they had been wrong… but… Morgause was never wrong. She couldn’t be wrong? Could there be something she hadn’t told Morgana? Or was Morgana powerful enough, strong enough to see things Morgause couldn’t? After all, she was the one with the sight, not Morgause. She could see, too, but not as clearly as Morgana, not as naturally. It had taken her years to be able to dream anything and it still required hard work on her part to dream any dreams, while for Morgana it was natural, something that was like breathing and that she was barely starting to be able to control. But this sight was also something that was never wrong, something that always happened unless she made it changed. But why would she want to change this dream? It wasn’t hurtful to anyone? It was even in accordance with everything in her so maybe she was right and maybe she didn’t need to talk about it to Morgause. Because she knew Morgause would never agree to this. Morgause wouldn’t want Arthur in their way; she wouldn’t see him rule, not if she could avoid it. But Morgana could prepare her to this future, it would take long hard work but she could do it. If she could make this world happen, she could prepare Morgause for it. And Arthur wouldn’t have to die, he would only need to grow and mature, and Morgana could help him. Yes. She could be in control of the future, she would be in control of the future and she would shape it her own way. Only Uther would have to die. Only him, the ultimate wrong, would have to die.
On this thought, she smiled and decided to go to sleep. She would have plenty of time the next day to think out her plan entirely and find solutions to every problem.

The following morning Morgana awoke happy. The last time she could remember awaking this happy were days with Morgause, in this other world far away from the reality of Camelot. But this grey reality didn’t matter to her anymore. She finally had the solution, she had it all along right under her nose but now she was finally able to see it. She couldn’t share this reality with anyone. She would have to live in both worlds until she could reconcile them and make them one. Until then she would find a way to make them coexist and touch in some parts to gradually make them mix into one another. Until the colours would wash away the grey, until this one colourful kingdom would rise.

--- * ---

She spent all her free time trying to think about a possible solution to the reconciliation of her worlds. She couldn’t go to Morgause and tell her about it because she wouldn’t accept it; Morgana was somehow convinced of this. So she needed to do something with Arthur, but what? She couldn’t go to him and tell him she was a sorceress. He wasn‘t ready for that, he was still too close to his father, and he needed time and preparation before being ready to accept that magic was right and beautiful and that he needed to embrace it fully to live, to really live. That was it! She just needed to keep him alive until he was ready to hear the truth, to see the truth and make it his own. She would prepare a charm to protect him and keep him alive as best she could. He was a good fighter and with an extra protection there was a good chance the future she had foreseen would come true. That was the solution she needed.

--- * ---

She spent the next few nights browsing books of magic Morgause had smuggled in Camelot for her to find the right charm and when she found it, she spent her time practicing it. She had decided she would give Arthur an old necklace made of wood that she had sculpted with him when they were fifteen. She would give it to him as a token of her love, she would tell him it was to remind him she still loved him and still believed in there world. She wouldn’t tell him what had changed in her and why she couldn’t speak to him anymore, not like they used to but instead she would make him accept this necklace. And she knew he would for the sake of their world, and the love and trust between them. She also knew that those reasons would be enough to ensure he would always have the necklace on him to protect him from magic.

A week later she was ready and confident she could cast the spell on the necklace. She had no way to test it for herself but she could feel her magic flow the right way inside of her veins and her eyes burned at the right warmth when she pronounced the magic words. She tested it one last time on a random piece of woods before casting the definite spell on the necklace. Once it was done, she carefully placed it in her hand and went to Arthur's chambers. It was close to midnight and she knew she would wake him up but it was part of her plans. She wanted to act like she had in her childhood, she wanted to it to be easy to talk to him, like it used to and the darkness and stillness of the night would help her. It would also conceal her feelings better and she wouldn’t betray herself in anyway. The dark would be her ally.
When she reached Arthur's chambers’ door she paused for her moment, taking a deep breath to give herself courage. This was it, this was the time she would start shaping her world. It was going to be real, this was going to be the first step towards the realisation of her dreams and of this colourful world she long for so much. She put her fingers around the handle and opened the door. All was still in the room. She could see the figure of Arthur sleeping in his bed and couldn’t help thinking how easy it would be to kill him here and there, how unprotected he looked. She shook her head. No, she wasn’t there to kill him, she was here to protect him. She went carefully to his bed but before she could touch him to wake him up, his hand jerked out of the bed and made her lose her balance. She lost control of everything and fell on top of Arthur. He was smiling, trying very hard not to laugh.
“So you thought you could still trick me in my own room.”
His voice was joyful, on the verge of laughter. Morgana forgot everything at seeing his face so gleeful and punched him in the arm like she used to, unable to speak as she was herself trying to repress her laugh, trying to appear vexed and unhappy.
He rolled on his side, making her fall in his bed next to him and started to tickle her, making them both explode in laughter while Morgana was trying hard to fight back but found it very difficult with the necklace in her hand. She felt it pressed against her palms, leaving a mark in her hand and suddenly she sobered up, remembering why she was here.
“Arthur…”
She was breathless and couldn’t say anything more but at the sound of his name, he stopped his actions and rested on his elbow to look at her, his face suddenly serious.
“I’ve missed you,” he said.
She didn’t reply to his comment but instead gently kissed his forehead, and got closer to him, lying in the safety of his arms while she was trying to recover all of her breath. She knew he was not going to speak now, he was going to wait until she was ready to break the silence because he hadn’t forgotten the promise she had made to him. Morgana closed her eyes and allowed herself to forget everything for a moment, to forget Camelot and the war that was going on in her world, to forget Uther and the mission to kill him. She savoured those few moments of peace when it was only Arthur and her, like it used to be. It had been enough once to make her live through her dreams that were then nightmares. It had been enough to make her smile and love Camelot in spite of a constant uneasiness she had never been able to understand before. But this was now and everything was different. She understood where her uneasiness had come from and she knew the safety of Arthur’s arms would never be enough now to make her go through the days, to reassure her and make her feel safe and happy. Now she was on her own. She had two worlds and she had to balance carefully between the two, she needed to manoeuvre in secret to shift them closer to each other.
She opened her eyes slowly, letting the reality sinking in her. She was in charge now, no more weakness would be allowed, no more hesitations. She had a mission of her own, a destiny in her hands that she needed taking care of. On her own.
“Arthur… “
He lowered his gaze to her face. He was smiling.
“I know I promised I would tell you what changed. But I can’t.”
She forced herself to keep looking into his eyes.
“I’m not ready yet…”
You’re not ready.
“One day, I will tell you what has changed but not now.”
She moved her arms, unfolding her hand slowly.
“Until then, promise me you’ll wear this necklace.”
She showed him the little wooden piece hanging off a thick lace. He smiled, recognizing the work of the fifteen years old Morgana.
Their bodies shifted into a sitting position and Morgana put the necklace around Arthur’s neck.
“I promise to keep it always on me.”
She smiled, looking straight into his eyes.
“Thank you…”
She whispered the words, making them barely audible but he saw the movements of her lips and smiled even more. He took her hand in his and made them lay down in his bed, their bodies entangling into one another.
He kissed her hair and whispered in her ear.
“Everything is going to be alright. I promise you, Morgana. Everything is going to be alright.”
She smiled at his words. Yes, everything was going to be alright now that he was protected. He would never be defenseless anymore and together they would rule someday, together with Morgause they would have a bright colourful kingdom in their hands and they would be the best rulers in all of History. Yes, Arthur was right, everything was going to be alright.

allis