My Only Hope (Arthur)

[morg]

Morgana lay back in her bed, trying desperately to relax. She had told Gwen that she was fine, but it had been a lie. Morgana felt anything but fine. After the incident last night, she wasn't sure she'd ever be fine again.

Sleep had been a struggle for Morgana for years now. Her strange, vivid dreams that sometimes seemed to come true had haunted her nights for as long as she could remember. They didn't happen every night, but they happened often enough. She took the potion Gaius made for her every night, but it didn't always work. Sometimes the dreams broke through anyway, and when they did, they were usually terrible. She would awaken in a cold sweat, wild-eyed and terrified. That was what had happened the night before.

She'd been having troubles with her dreams, and she awoke. She still didn't know how it happened, but she had glanced at the candle and it flamed up, catching the curtains on fire. While she was panicking, the glass shattered. It was magic, she was sure of it. And she was also sure that she had done it. She didn't know how, and she didn't think she could do it again... but she had felt the strange surge shoot through her. She had done it. She must have.

Gaius had assured her that it couldn't possibly have been her... but Morgana knew he was wrong. Maybe he was lying to her... trying to protect her. She knew perfectly well what Uther thought of magic, and there was no telling what he'd do if he knew she had done magic. But if she did have magic, what was to stop her from doing it again in Uther's presence? She had no control over it. That was the most terrifying part... the complete lack of control.

All of these thoughts and fears weighed heavily on the young ward as she sat alone in her darkened room. Gaius's potion was starting to take its effect, making her arms and legs feel heavy. But her eyes were wide open.

She took one last look around the room, making sure there were no misplaced candles anywhere, then forced herself to close her eyes. But just as she was starting to really relax, she saw a flash of light... and she screamed. Her eyes flew open and she sat up straight in bed. The very first thing she laid her eyes on was a glass vase. Then she felt that strange surge shoot through her again and her eyes went fuzzy for a moment.

The vase shattered.

Morgana screamed and jumped out of bed. She needed to talk to someone. Someone who would understand. Someone who might be able to help her.

Her first thought was Gaius, but he hadn't exactly been helpful this morning. He'd flatly insisted that she was fine and that it wasn't magic. If she would just take her sleeping draught, he told her, everything would be fine. Well, it wasn't fine. Gaius had lied.

Desperate, Morgana ran from her room and down the hall, stopping at Arthur's chamber door. Maybe he would understand. Maybe...

She took a breath, and with a shaking hand, knocking loudly on the door. "Arthur? Are you awake? It's Morgana. I need to talk to you!"



Timeline: S2, During Ep. 3, "The Nightmare Begins," late night.
Tag: Arthur
What if: Morgana went to Arthur for help about her magic, instead of Merlin?[/size]

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur had just gotten into bed a few moments ago. With his father's orders of arresting all those under suspicion of using sorcery, the day was filled with tracking them and sending them to the dungeons. Arthur strongly disagreed with such methods, but of course could not challenge the king. Besides, he and his father did share one strong thing in common: the desperate need to protect Morgana, whatever the cost. If his father was indeed right, and she was attacked by a sorcerer, then perhaps this was the only way to ensure her safety. Arthur was determined to find the attacker, perhaps just as much as his father was . . . only their opinions on going about it differed greatly. And then of course, the king could be mistaken all together. Perhaps it was just lightening that struck. Perhaps his father was being paranoid? After all, when it came to magic, he became irrational and illogical. So it was truly difficult to tell what the more likely outcome was.

Such thoughts were in Arthur's mind as he slowly drifted to sleep. He could not have been so long until he heard someone knocking on his door. It wasn't a calm sort of knocking and it made Arthur's eyes shoot open and caused him to jump out of bed. As he grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head, he heard the voice of who was knocking, which only made him hurry even faster to the door. Pulling it open, he saw a rather distressed looking Morgana and his eyes slightly widened in fear and concern. "Morgana," he said, quickly stepping side and gently pulling her in, though leaving the door open should he need to run out or call for guards. Guards! They should been at least six outside her door and patrolling the hall. Surely the sorcerer didn't slip past them again?! He put his hands on either side of her upper arms in attempt to help calm her. "What happened? Did someone attack you?" He questioned, filled with concern and worry over her safety. Fearing that it had been yet another failure of his to protect her.

[morg]

Morgana had worked herself into a near panic by this point, and her pale face was streaked with tears. Arthur never usually saw her like this. She tried to hide this side of herself from him, because they had both grown up together, and she had trained at his side. She wanted him to think she was strong and brave, and right now... she was terrified.

But Gwen couldn't help her, and Gaius had already dismissed her when she mentioned magic. Uther would probably lock her in the dungeon if she mentioned it to him. Maybe Arthur, who was as close to her as a brother, might be able to help her. It was a long shot, but at this point, she didn't have much choice. If she didn't confide in someone, she was frightened of what she might do.

"Oh, Arthur!" she gasped. "I... no, I wasn't attacked. I just... I need to talk to you. I don't know where else to turn... I'm scared, Arthur."

She was shaking, but she wasn't sure if it was from cold or fear. If Arthur couldn't help her, Morgana wasn't sure what she would do. But there was no mistaking the power surge she had felt inside her. It had to be magic. If it had been one time, she could have dismissed it. But twice was no mistake. What if she couldn't control it? What if she really was a danger? if only she had one person on her side, maybe everything wouid be all right.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Hearing that she hadn't been attacked gave him some semblance of relief, but not much. For something still was frightening her. The last time he had seen her this shaken was . . . probably when she had run out into the courtyard in her night gown when he had been about to ride out to hunt the questing beast. And that feeling she had had been legitimate for Arthur nearly died from that journey. It was not something they had discussed at length, but he wondered if her dreams were intensifying and if that was what had brought her to his doors in such a state. He closed the door behind her, and grabbed his coat from the back of his chair, draping it on her, placing it over her shoulders so that it would give her some warmth. He then put his arm around her, leading her to the chair which he pulled out so that she could sit. He hated seeing her like this, and the only thing he hated more was the fact that he was so powerless to help.

If he could some how take away her nightmares, even bring them on to himself, he would in a heartbeat. Anything to spare her from this terror, and it made his heart ache that she had to constantly endure it. He crouched down in front of her as she was seated, placing his hand on hers and looking directly up into her eyes, hoping she would make eye contact so that she would believe his words, though he was unsure if she would find any comfort in them. It was usually Gwen who seemed to know what to say to calm Morgana, but that didn't mean her presence was unwelcome. Arthur wanted to do everything within his power to calm. "Everything is going to be fine Morgana," he told her in a soothing voice. "You don't have to be scared. You're safe here. I'm not going to let anything happen to you." While there were many, many moments of teasing and arguments in their relationships . . . he truly cared for her, and that fierce protectiveness that a brother carried for a sister, was strong in Arthur.

[[ Slight godmod of having her sit down!! If you want me to edit, I totally can!! ]]

[morg]

Morgana's legs felt so shaky and she sort of sank down into the chair, huddling under Arthur's cloak. She'd had her doubts about coming here at first, but he was being so gentle and caring that it made her ache inside. She hoped he would always stay like this, and not turn into a clone of his father. Something told her that Arthur would never be like Uther. He would be a good king... a just king.

Wiping at the tears that had pooled around her eyes, Morgana looked up at Arthur gratefully. "You're a good man, Arthur," she said softly.

She gathered the cloak around her, shivering in the chilled evening air. Or maybe it was fear that made her shiver. "I... I need to tell you something. And I need you to promise that you won't tell Uther. Or anyone. I'm just so scared and I don't know where else to turn... I don't want you to hate me."

[Arthur Pendragon]

Words could not describe the concern that filled Arthur's heart in seeing Morgana in such a state. She was such a strong woman . . . and he seldom saw her like this. Perhaps it was because she masked it from him, but regardless, it made him all the more desperate to do whatever it good to calm her and bring peace back to her mind. Something was gravely troubling her, and her words only created more concern in him. She told him he was a good man, and while Arthur did not doubt the sincerity of her words, he wondered what had prompted them. They filled him with a strong honor and privilege that she felt that way . . . but right now, it was not about him. It was about her. He kept his hands on either side of her arms, right below her shoulders, gently rubbing them in attempt to calm her and ease her trembling. "Morgana, I could never hate you," he said quickly after she voiced her fear in that he would. How could he ever hate her? What could she possibly tell him that would make her afraid that he would?

While he would not admit it, he was starting to grow afraid. But his appearance remained poised, for he knew it would be no help if he showed any semblance of that fear. "You can trust me," he further assured her. He knew that his father and her often had their differences, and he would never want to do anything to create more of a tension . . . nor could he betray either one of them. "Whatever you say, will stay between us. I swear." On his honor, he swore. "You don't have to be afraid. I'm here. And I promise that whatever you are going through, you need not endure it alone." She never had to be alone. Whether it was Uther, Guinevère, him, or another friend of hers who comforted her . . . Arthur never wanted her to feel alone. "We've grown up together, we've been through quite a lot together," he said, a very light tease in his tone and slight smile on his lips, implying the fun and silly adventures they had and arguments they engaged in when they were younger. "We will get through this together as well. I promise." Of that, he was certain. After all, how bad could it be?

[morg]

His words should have brought her comfort. They should have made her feel safe and loved. But strangely, they had the opposite effect on her. Arthur, sweet, trusting, Arthur, had been raised with such a fear and hatred of magic that she couldn't help but believe that this was the one thing that would change his opinion of her. It scared her; how could it not scare him? How could he possibly not feel revulsion and hatred when he learned that her soul was polluted with what Uther called evil?

In her heart, Morgana did not believe magic was evil on its own. Yes, she was aware that many people with magic had used it for evil purposes. But in a way, she couldn't blame them for doing it. Their lives were in danger. Perhaps for them, it was a case of kill or be killed. Maybe they were doing it for the greater good.

Morgana believed that Uther was an evil, intolerant, unforgiving king. She had seen it first hand on many occasions, when he ordered the deaths of citizens, druids, even an innocent little boy, all because of his crusade against magic. Who could blame such people, then, for using their only weapons against a king who would have their heads simply because they were born with magic? Even if they lost their own lives in the process, maybe their efforts could help other people with magic to finally be free from Uther's tyranny.

These were terrible, traitorous thoughts. If Arthur knew what she was thinking right now, his assurances that he "could never hate" her would surely be proven untrue.

She wiped her eyes and looked up at him, feeling like her heart was breaking. Maybe it had been a mistake to come to him.

"Arthur... don't make promises you can't keep. And when I tell you what I came to say... You'll probably never even want to look at me again."

[Arthur Pendragon]

She was growing more and more hesitant with each passing moment. He wondered if it was because she was slightly calming down, or if she felt like this at most times, and this was just the first instance that she had come to him. "I don't," he assured her, when she told him not to make promises that he can't keep. "I do not give my word on my honor, without truly meaning it." For that was all a man had: his honor. "Morgana, something compelled you to come to me with whatever is evidently troubling you." Even if it was just for a brief second . . . something convinced her that it was alright to come to him. And he wanted to focus on that trust, rather than what she feared the consequences would be of her telling him whatever she was not.

"Do you lack so much faith in me, in us, that you think I would see you as any less then someone I greatly care for?" He didn't want her to feel like revealing one thing would forever alter the way he felt about her. "Let me help you," he added softly, wanting more than anything to be there for her; to share with him what was clearly causing her so much pain. "Please," he added, all but begging for her to open up to him.

[morg]

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him. She trusted him, but she also knew that he was loyal to his father. Arthur had gone against his father on occasion, and that did give her hope, but Arthur didn’t understand magic any more than Uther did. When it came down to it, Morgana didn’t really understand magic, either… she only knew that she had it and that she was going to have to learn how to control it somehow. Would Arthur’s fear of magic prove stronger than his love for her?

Morgana wasn’t even sure that he shouldn’t hate her for having magic. The druid boy, Mordred, had been the only one she had ever known who had magic and did not use it for evil. He’d only used what he had to protect himself, and even then, very sparingly. But the knowledge of her newfound power frightened Morgana greatly. Was magic evil? Or could it be used for good? She wanted to believe that it could be a good thing… but she just didn’t know.

She looked up at Arthur and took a few calming breaths. She had come here to tell him the truth, and he deserved at least that much from her. For better or for worse, at least then her secret would be out, and she wouldn’t feel this crippling fear and panic crushing her. She almost needed to speak it aloud, so she could find a way to face it. She only hoped that he wouldn’t react as Gaius had done, in refusing to believe her.

“Arthur…” she began her voice trembling. “I wasn’t attacked. Not last night, or tonight. The glass… the candle… it was a sorcerer, but it wasn’t an attacker. It was me… I did it, Arthur. I’m the sorcerer.”