Character/s: Morgana, mentions of her parents, Uther, Arthur, Merlin
Summary: Morgana has always had the most frightening dreams.
Warnings: Gory, again, but that's why it's NC-17
Word Count: 744
Prompt: Bleeding Heart
Author's Notes: And an extra! I thought the image was quite surreal, and that got me thinking about the surreal flashes of the visions that Morgana and Merlin have, and then I wrote this. The girl's Elaine, an OC of mine, but since I don't mention her by name she can probably be whoever you want
Morgana has always had the most frightening dreams. Before her parents died and she was packed off to Uther, Gorlois brought in the best doctors from all over the world to try to solve it. She had to talk to them through translators sometimes, but others reassured her with their smiles and their toys and their games, and she told them the content of her dreams. And, one by one, they shook their heads, left her with pills and syrups that could never quite suppress the images.
When Vivienne died, Gorlois was haunted more by his daughter’s night terrors than the loss of his wife.
Even after the car crash that took Gorlois from her, the splinters of glass that fell like rain and the awkward angle of his limbs, entombed in slices of metal, black, and the rain grey, the car crash that Morgana can still remember, flashes like photographs, though she was never there. Even then, she never grew out of the nightmares. They just lessened in their intensity.
When Morgana hits her late teens the problem resurfaces. It begins, strangely enough, with Arthur. She never thought she cared that much, but she finds herself trailing him to parties because she has such a bad feeling about them – she’s seen him put on the shirt he wears in that pool of something glistening in her dream, or watched his hair catch the light in just the way it does in the scene before the one when he’s barely breathing, overdosed on something or other, or had his drink spiked by some fay girl, or been mugged outside by a gang of drunk chavs.
And then she meets Merlin, who wants to keep Arthur safe even more than she does. And she can stop worrying, because somehow or other Merlin will always manage to get Arthur home at the end of the night; all Morgana has to do is call him, or text him, tonight, the club, watch out for the blonde with the purple dress.
But a few other things have happened to Morgana in the meantime. She’s discovered her sexuality, kissed Gwen who, it turns out, isn’t as in to girls as Morgana, and found her first girlfriend in Morgause. Who’s a little radical, and drags Morgana along to her feminist marches, and probably plans terrorist attacks on the government department that keeps the magic secret, and calls Morgana sister… but at least she’s there.
And on the heels of this comes a new dream. She can’t decipher it yet, but the haze of it fades over time; through A levels, through University. By the time Morgana’s a fully qualified lawyer the details are as crystal clear as the image of her dying mother’s last tear. Though of course, she was too young at the time to remember that.
A hand, slender fingers, pink and white ovals of nails, clenching and unclenching, the nails leaving angry red crescents in the flesh of the palm.
A swathe of hair across the pillow, not quite red, but not quite brunette, either.
A scream, the arch of a spine, a needle. The way it depresses the skin before it pushes through.
Restraints, made from metal and cloth and foam. No sense of scale, no clue what it holds down.
An open chest, a barely beating, bleeding heart. Swollen with blood, red, like lips, like lust, like pain. Straining in its hollow, stuttering, forgetting its function. Squeezed motionless by invisible hands.
Defibrillator pads, over and over again.
The sound of alarms, breaking through the silence.
Blood matted hair.
Blood dripping from the discarded pads.
And Morgana wakes, shivering, screaming, longing for someone to hold her through it but already feeling their loss.
A year after Morgana qualifies, Gwen invites her to a party. Gwen’s ex-boyfriend brings his current date, and Morgana knows. She’s seen that hair before, that body, but in the sterile white of a hospital gown. She almost doesn’t recognise it in a figure-hugging navy dress, but it’s the same woman, she’s sure. And, as the night goes on, Morgana starts to fall.
One silly game later, one kiss later, and Morgana’s gone. Done for. So much so that it may as well be her own heart she dreams of, breaking, giving up the will to carry on.
A year after Morgana leaves University, she begins the most important work of her life; how to save the woman she’s falling in love with.