Title: Give Over
Summary: Camelot has fallen, Morgana reigns, and Merlin finds new purpose.
Warnings: past major character death, dark!fic
Word Count: 570
Prompt: #4 (Surrender)
“It’s over, Merlin. Or should I say, Emrys .” Morgana sneered down at the man kneeling at her feet. Merlin looked blankly ahead, hands held tight behind his back. He didn’t show any indication he’d heard her. Morgana’s eyes flashed gold in anger. She pushed herself from her throne and strode from the room, her yelled order echoing in the silent hall.
“Take him to the dungeons!”
Morgana’s guards took hold of Merlin’s arms and dragged him out. Merlin stayed limp as a rag doll.
She visited him often, though he was unaware of it at times. The drugs they gave him did something funny to his mind, made him get stuck in his thoughts. He’d heard one of the guards saying it was to keep him from using his magic to try to escape.
As if he had any will to do so. Arthur was dead, Camelot had fallen. Morgana ruled over Albion with Mordred at her side. There was no hope to be found anymore. Merlin closed his eyes and rested his heavy head against the rough stone wall of his cell. IT was time he finally gave in.
It was the softness that woke him. Strange, that such a subtle texture is what brings him out of a dead sleep. Not the cold stone of his cell or the smell of straw and unwashed bodies. But the slide of silk across his skin and the light scent of lavender permeating the air around him. Merlin’s eyes opened blearily and he looked around.
He was shocked to find himself fin Arthur’s old chambers. He was even more shocked to realize that the eternal fog was gone from his mind. Suddenly, a noise behind him made him jump. He turned quickly to face the source of it, coming face to face with Queen Morgana herself. All his instincts creamed at him to attack, kill, run, but something stayed his hand.
Morgana made no move toward him. She simply stood there, looking at him, trying to decipher him. Then she spoke in calm voice, almost casual.
“I was once told that you were to be my destiny, my doom. And yet from what I’ve seen, this is not the case. Tell me Merlin, why would the Cailleach tell me such things, if they were not true?”
Merlin’s eyes narrowed at the name. He remembered such a being. “Destinies… have a way of not always turning out like you thought they would. Your Majesty.” His voice was rough from it lack of use for so long. But there was no mistaking the scorn he put into the title. Morgana barely even flinched.
“You see. Arthur Pendragon was to be the Once and Future King of Albion. You changed that.”
Morgana smirked. “Hm. Then perhaps you may not be my doom after all. I guess I’ll just have to find another use for you.”
She walked closer to Merlin and cupped the side of his face gently. The warlock looked up into her golden eyes and with a whispered word, he knew no more.
Many years later Albion flourished. It became the greatest magical kingdom the world had ever known. Mordred, shunned by Morgana, had left to build his own army. He planned to take Albion, take back what was rightfully his. But when the time came to lay siege of the land, Mordred perished in flame at the hand of Morgana’s consort and right hand man.