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Chapter Text

Morgana seethed with rage. How dare he? How dare Uther call for Merlin's execution?! It wasn't right! He didn't get to do that!

Only she did. She deserved the satisfaction of the ultimate revenge plot. She deserved to see Merlin’s expression twist in fear, in betrayal, just as hers had. She deserved to decide Merlin's fate, not Uther. 

There was only one thing to do. 

(It serves to note that Morgana, at this moment, wasn't thinking. Oh, she certainly thought the above, but that was the extent of it. More importantly, it also serves to note that Morgana… ‘mistakenly’ assumed that she would be able to get out of any complications she came across. She was, after all, a high priestess of the old religion, trained by Morgause herself. Who was Merlin, other than a friend-betrayer and a failure of a servant?)

“Uther,” She said coldly, storming into his private meeting where only he and Arthur stood, with he brother no doubt begging him uselessly to pardon Merlin. 

Both father and son snapped their heads to look at her in shock, but before they could speak or usher her out of the conversation as they were often wont to do, she planted her hands on her hips and glared. “You cannot execute Merlin.”

“Morgana—” Uther started to say. 

“No,” She insisted. “You cannot! Only I can decide what to do with him!”

“What?” Arthur sputtered, like he didn't want to save his own servant. Idiot. “Why?”

Morgana fished around for a viable excuse and then jumped headfirst into the first one that seemed like it wouldn't get Merlin killed. Because, of course, only she could kill him. “Because he's the father of my child,” She said impulsively. “And that means I decide what to do with him. He must live.”

It was only the grace of the Triple Goddess that there was no one else in the room, because Morgana only realized what she'd said after she said it. Unfortunately, she couldn't very well take it back.

Arthur choked. “What?!”

Uther started, almost without expression… and then his face turned thunderous. “OFF WITH HIS HEAD—”

“What did I just say?!” Morgana snapped. 

“He violated your–”

Morgana rolled her eyes. “Even you're not–” She cleared her throat, remembering the kind of persona she pretended in front of the King. “It matters not,” She said snobbily. “Would you doom my child to a life without her father?”

Uther flinched back, no doubt recalling his own son.

His son, on the other hand, kept staring at Morgana in open disbelief. “But– what?” He said again. “Merlin?”

Morgana completely understood. “Yes,” She agreed, because Merlin definitely wasn't her first choice, friend-betrayer that he was. Sure, he was very attractive, and, once, she'd thought– well, regardless. “Merlin.”

“He is a traitor!” Uther protested.

Friend-betrayer, yes. Traitor? Morgana arched a disbelieving eyebrow. “Surely you can't believe that,” She said. “He's the most pathetically devoted person I know!” Devoted to Camelot and Arthur, for some godforsaken reason, and to everyone but her, that friend-betrayer.

Arthur shook his head and turned beseechingly to his king. “It's true, Father,” He said. “Merlin would never betray Camelot.” His eyes flickered to Morgana. “And you must pardon him. If not for his sake, then–” He looked a little green. “Then for Morgana and their child's.”

Morgana smirked. Well, it seemed as if it was working out after all. Merlin would live to see another day to be destroyed personally by her, and, as a bonus, he would be under her control. 

Perfect.

“I'm sorry, what?!” Morgause shrieked. “Morgana’s pregnant? With the servant's child?!”

The pile of blood and flesh and organs on the floor didn't reply. 

“With the servant's child?!”

Again, the pile didn't reply, but Morgause’s scream reached every corner of the palace, shocking Cenred awake from his daily nap. “Huh?” He asked. 

Unfortunately, no servant was available to reply.

When Merlin was let out of the dungeons, it was a pleasant surprise. Admittedly, the guards were staring at him weirdly and Arthur looked utterly choked, turning to him, opening his mouth, then spinning back with a groan and leaving whatever he meant to say unsaid (repeatedly), but the pleasantness of no longer being on track for execution (again) was a nice feeling. 

“How did you convince the king?” He asked as they reached closer to the Physician's quarters, where Merlin had followed Arthur all the way to. 

Arthur made a choked sound. “Don't you dare, you clotpole,” He snapped, not even meeting his eyes. 

Merlin blinked. Well, that was weird. “That's my word,” He pointed out, just to lighten the mood. 

Perhaps in the biggest indication of things being wrong, Arthur didn't shoot back his own annoyed response. 

Merlin tensed. What was wrong? Was there another attack on Camelot? Or had someone been hurt? 

Wait, could it be? Maybe getting Merlin out of prison had cost Arthur something that Merlin couldn't ever repay?

His heart sped up and his magic spiked. He tamped down on it. “Arthur?” He asked. 

Arthur didn't reply. And before Merlin could push again, they were at the entrance to the Physician's quarters, opening it, and–

Wait, what the hell was Morgana doing there?

He stiffened. The strange mood, the weird looks… it made sense. She'd done something or had said something and Arthur had obviously believed her. Why wouldn't he? She was his sister! 

… Well, not that he knew, but that wasn't important. He already trusted her like one. 

His shoulders tense and his magic humming under his skin, he met Morgana’s eyes, her's filled with passionate triumph and lined with the hate he'd gotten so used to seeing ever since she returned from her extended ‘leave’ with Morgause.

He hoped none of his emotions translated.  

Gwen, who he hadn't even noticed was in the room, gasped. “It's true!” She exclaimed. 

Arthur swore. Like actually swore. 

Merlin blinked in confused surprise, turning to both see who else was there, and latching on to a frowning Gaius. “What's going on?”

Unfortunately, it was the only person who he didn't want to talk to who spoke up. “I told them everything, Merlin,” Morgana said. 

Merlin blanched, and it took a moment for him to realize that she meant everything she knew. And then he blanched again because that was still heck of a lot more than Gwen and Arthur knew. 

… But no, she had to know he wouldn't stay silent about Morgause, right? 

He swallowed. “What?” He asked, trying to prompt her into telling him exactly what she'd told The rest of them. 

“Oh, come off it, Merlin,” Arthur snapped. “We know. I do not need to hear–” His face burned utterly red. “Seriously?!” He sputtered, staring desperately at Morgana. “Him?!”

She nodded.

Merlin's brow furrowed. That didn't sound like the reaction of someone who had found out Merlin had poisoned his own sister (again, perceived in Arthur's case due to the lack of knowledge). This was more… disgust?

Huh?

“I don't–” He tried to say. 

Morgana loudly cleared her throat. “Yes, I'm sure he realizes,” She said imperiously, even as her eyes flashed in Merlin's direction in a glare. “But before you descend upon him much more, I must speak to him.”

There was silence. 

“Alone,” She said sharply. 

Arthur scowled. “The last time you were left alone, this happened.”

Margana smirked. “Surely you don't think it just happened once, do you?”

Gwen pinked, then tugged on Arthur's sleeve. “Maybe we should…” She trailed off, but it seemed to be enough, because Arthur, reluctantly but without much protest, 

That left Merlin, Morgana, and Gaius. 

Morgana cleared her throat. 

Gaius heaved a burdened sigh. “Very well,” He said, sounding utterly disappointed. “But once you have this... conversation, I'll need to speak to you, Merlin.” He said something with his eyes that Merlin couldn't for the life of him understand. 

But before he could even try, Gaius left, picking up a few vials of medicine as he left, mumbling something about taking them to his many patients. 

And then there were two. 

Morgana, in all her glory, smiled evilly at Merlin, her arms crossed in front of her, her eyes glittering. “You're at my mercy, Merlin,” She said. 

Merlin blinked. “... Pardon?”

“I'm the one who got you out of the dungeons,” She continued. 

His hackles rose. “Why?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Because only I get to decide what happens to you,” She spat. “You are mine to ruin.”

To be fair, that was very Morgana of her. But then again… “How did you convince–” Merlin stopped. No, there was something more pressing. “Why were they looking at me like that?” He asked. “What ‘everything’ did you tell them?”

She pursed her lips and sighed dramatically. “Not the poisoning, more’s the shame. Unfortunately, I need you alive so I may have my revenge upon you. If I'd mentioned that, then you wouldn't even have escaped with a simple execution.”

Merlin grimaced. “Then?” He asked, trying to prompt her into telling him whether or not she knew he had magic. Of course, he doubted she knew. Her reaction would be way worse.

Her smile edged manic evil— no, wait, was that also regret?

(In a small part of his mind, Merlin mourned the fact that he could still tell how she felt, because that meant that every time he saw her, he could tell exactly how much he'd broken her trust and her heart, and it never failed to kill the small parts of him that still lived.)

Her smiled edged evil and she stalked forward, placing one slender hand on his cheek. The touch sent shivers down Merlin's spine (though he refused to admit it was a tossup as to why). “Why, Merlin, was I not supposed to tell them I was pregnant?”

Merlin blinked. “You're what?” He asked blankly. “Who's–” It hit him just as Morgana drew away. “ What?!” He squeaked. “But you've never– I– We’ve–”

She rolled her eyes. “Like I'd even want to,” She sneered. “It was a ruse, of course.”

Merlin opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, shocked silent. 

“Has my beauty and skill finally stolen your breath?” She teased, still smiling smugly. 

Merlin recovered enough to scowl. “Why in Camelot would you–”

“Because only I get to kill you,” She reminded him. “You killed me.”

“I–” Merlin flinched. “I didn't,” He said lamely, quietly, no quick response available. 

“You tried,” She said sharply. “And that means it's my prerogative.”

Merlin looked down and forced his mind to start working again. “Even if it was,” He told her finally. Even if it hadn't been because I had to save Camelot and Arthur and– “This was— why would you say that? You've just as trapped yourself into this lie!” His eyes widened. “Is… is it a lie?” He whispered. “Are you…?” 

It made sense. If she was and the real father wasn't allowed to come forward, being a sorcerer and all, considering who Morgana had hung out with for a year—

“Of course not!” She hissed. “I cannot believe you would accuse me–”

“You're the one who said it first!”

She shot him a dirty look. “I cannot stand you, Merlin.”

“And yet, you've made me the father of your non-existent child,” He pointed out. “Speaking of, how are you going to fool your fa–” He shuttered to a stop. 

Morgana's eyes narrowed. “You know?”

He shrugged in defeat. There were more important things to worry about. “Yes,” He said. “I overheard.”

“You overhear a lot of things,” She said with a glare. 

“It's one of my greatest skills,” He shot right back. 

She huffed. “As Arthur says, you are a clotpole.”

“I'll have you know I made that word,” He said mildly. 

“And you resemble it very well, too,” She said faux-sweetly. 

“How are you going to fool everyone?” He asked again. 

Morgana raised one eyebrow. “How do you think?” She asked archly. 

Right. Magic. “That will require an illusion,” He said. Even he'd be hard pressed to create life as complex as a human without the natural process. 

His ears burned red. 

Morgana, thankfully, did not notice. “I suppose we shall have to fake our great loss closer to the time.” She smiled. “Though I doubt I will take that long to take my revenge and then it won't be your problem at all, will it?”

Even as Merlin slumped in reluctant, confused acceptance, he just knew it in his gut that things were going to go terribly, horribly wrong. 

Only in Camelot. By the Old Religion, he really should have stayed back in Ealdor. 

“Really, Merlin?” Gaius asked. 

“It's not true!” Merlin said. “She's lying!”

“Why would Lady Morgana do that?”

He sighed, knowing how it sounded. “She has some strange notion that only she's allowed to take revenge on me,” He admitted. “So she would rather no one else be allowed to kill me.”

Gaius stared at him in disbelief. “And she chose to claim she has your child in her womb?”

Great. Even Gaius didn't believe him. 

“You.”

Merlin had always known there was always a chance that Uther would be the death of him, but he'd never expected it wouldn't be because of his magic. 

His throat dried up. “Si– Sire,” He tried to say. 

Uther glared with the hatred of a loving father (though Merlin personally thought it was hypocritical when he wouldn't even let anyone know that Morgana was actually his daughter). “How dare you?” He demanded. 

“My Lord,” Morgana said, sounding annoyed. 

Muttering to himself, Uther drew back. “Unfortunately,” He said, poison dripping from every word. “Since it is Morgana's request—” 

And she thought she was unloved. Ha!

“—I shall let you live. However, one step out of line, boy–”

“Uther,” Morgana snapped, sounding even more annoyed. 

Huh. Maybe she did hate Uther more than Merlin. 

Uther sighed, also in annoyance. Merlin could see the resemblance. “Very well,” He said reluctantly, if reluctantly implied that he was dragging his words through his teeth like a cloth through a rose’s thorns. “For your… loyalty to Camelot, you shall be awarded the position of—” His face twisted even more. “Baron,” He spat. 

Merlin’s mouth fell open in utter shock. 

Morgana inhaled sharply. “Wait, what?” She asked. 

“You’re making him a Baron?!” Arthur sputtered. “But— you wouldn’t even let me make Lancelot a knight!”

Uther’s scowl became more pronounced. “I will not let my— my ward to marry beneath nobility,” He said. “And if this must be, then I can at least offer…” He shot another disgusted look at Merlin. “Since the Baron of Cragwyn passed recently without an heir, there must rise someone to fill his position.” He shook his head and turned to Morgana, laying a comforting hand on her cheek. “You can still tell me no,” He urged her.

Morgana blinked away her shock, shooting Merlin a look that kind of expressed something between surprise and excitement… for once, there was no loathing there, and Merlin felt his heart skip a beat. “No,” She told the King. “Merlin is mine.”

At this point, Merlin was really starting to wonder whether being set for execution wouldn’t have been better. He always got out of that, didn’t he?

“Look, Merlin,” Arthur said in the most awkward way possible. “You hurt Morgana and—”

Merlin threw up his hands and walked away. 

“MERLIN!”

Merlin blinked blearily up at the massive, angry dragon. “What?” He asked grouchily. Between the pretension (Morgana), the scorn (Uther), and the awkwardness (literally everyone else), he believed the grouchiness was justified. 

The dragon growled. “You have bedded the witch?! After everything I have told you of fate–”

GODS! “No, I have not bedded Morgana!” Merlin shouted. “She's not pregnant!”

Chapter Text

Morgana was feeling nauseous. She groaned and threw an arm over her eyes, the light blinding her. “What did I eat yesterday?” She grumbled. 

Gwen, who was apparently in her room, getting things ready for the day, giggled. “All part of pregnancy, My Lady,” She said. “How are you feeling?”

Morgana blinked, confused for a second before the memories came flooding back in. Right. The pregnancy. She pushed herself up and tried to level a smile in Gwen’s direction. “Yes, well. I suppose I had hope it would skip me,” She said winningly. 

Gwen bobbed her head. “I can’t imagine,” She said. “Don’t worry, I can bring your meal to your room today. The cook made something mild.”

Morgana raised her eyebrows. “Wait, the cook knows?”

Gwen finally met her eyes. “Everyone knows, Morgana,” She said. “Surely you didn’t expect this to stay a secret? I mean,” She continued hurriedly. “No one’s talking openly about it, not with the implication that the King would call for execution, but the secret isn’t exactly, well, secret.”  

Morgana paled. Oh no. What if Morgause had heard? No, if she’d heard, she’d have contacted her, wouldn’t she? Right? Right. 

“Don’t worry, though!” Gwen said, falling over herself to reassure her. “Everyone’s happy for you. I mean, you’re marrying Merlin. Everyone loves Merlin.”

And yet, that wasn’t exactly the reassurance Morgana had needed. “Everyone?” She asked. Would there be hurdles in her plan for revenge? Did she need to get rid of other people who'd stop her?

Gwen, lovely girl that she was, had not an evil bone in her body and assumed the worst thing possible. “Oh, it’s okay, Morgana. Merlin’s only ever had eyes for you.”

Morgana flushed red. “That’s not—” She shook her head. “Oh, stop it, Gwen. Help me get ready, please.”

Considering it was all supposed to be an illusion, Morgana actually hadn’t expected side effects. But, apparently, even making an illusion baby meant pregnancy problems. 

Short story — her nausea did not subside. 

Gods, she hated Merlin. 

“This is all your fault!” Morgana hissed when she met him next, glaring at him and pulling him behind a pillar. 

Merlin, harried and busy and completely frazzled from his endless tasks of getting himself ready for the Barony he was being awarded (and, according to Arthur in his not-so-unwanted daily updates of what her ‘betrothed’ was up to, actually picking it up very well… maybe Morgana would keep him around to do the work that was beneath her), just blinked at her slowly. “My– what?”

She glared harder. “I’ve got morning sickness!”

“Er,” Merlin said. “I thought you weren’t pregnant.”

“I’m not!” She protested. “It must be the spell or something because— well, anyway! It’s your fault. Fix it.” And then she spun on her feet and stalked away, hearing Merlin sigh behind her.

Apparently, Merlin’s version of ‘fixing things’ included a picnic.

… Surprisingly, it worked. 

Morgana lay sprawled on a blanket in the grass next to a lake, Merlin massaging her shoulders at her demand, Arthur and Gwen seated a little distance away. The other two were supposed to be escorting them (though considering Morgana’s excuse, what worse could they even do if left alone?), but they looked far too busy indulging in some of their own romance. 

Hmm, Morgana thought in a dazed warmth, they do make a good couple. 

“... Gaius is asking you to start coming in for more checkups,” Merlin told her in a low voice, shattering her calm. 

She groaned. “Of course he is,” She muttered. 

“He’s a physician,” Merlin continued.

“No, really?” Morgana drawled. “I’d never have imagined.”

He shot her an annoyed look. “You know what I mean. A simple illusion isn’t going to fool him.”

“Ha!” She muttered. “It it were simple, I wouldn’t be nauseous every morning.”

A short flash of worry passed across his face, which Morgana didn’t expect (and, she told herself, her chest squeezing, one she didn’t want, not from the traitor) . “Still?” He asked. “Hasn’t it been going on too long?”

“I wouldn’t know, I’m not actually pregnant!” She hissed, then placed her hands over her face. “I wish to eat grapes,” She said abruptly.

Like a good servant, Merlin fed her grapes. 

For a few seconds, there was silence, then Morgana shrugged. “I suppose I’ll handle it,” She said. “Somehow.”

Merlin looked at her with an inscrutable expression. “You could tell him.”

“Gaius?” She asked incredulously. “He’d immediately tell Uther! And as I have said. You shan’t be executed before I can take my revenge on you myself.”

“... Right.”

It turned out that there actually wasn’t a more complicated spell Morgana could use to support her ruse, so she’d decided to fib her way through the check-up. Strangely, however, Gaius, having performed a few strange tests, checking her pulse, and a few other questions probing Morgana’s state of body — whence she’d mentioned the nausea a lot, having been told by Gwen that it was a typical pregnancy symptom anyway — had simply stated that she was doing fine, and that she should take some medicine he was prescribing for the nausea (thank the Triple Goddess) but otherwise just meet him again every week for regular check-ups. 

Maybe Morgana’s magic really was getting better if it had fooled Gaius. She couldn’t wait to tell Morgause—

Wait, no, she was definitely not bringing up the pretend pregnancy first. 

(She ignored the small part of herself which said Morgause wouldn’t understand… and she ignored the even smaller part which said she didn’t, either.

Why go to such lengths to save a servant and a traitor?)

Well, at least hearing Gaius say “Really, Merlin. I’m disappointed in you—” from outside the door was satisfying.

Morgana fell into a sort of routine from there, her days filled with court obligations, getting ready for her permanent control over Merlin via marriage, and spending time with the increasingly reluctant Uther and Arthur. 

Merlin, for being such an important reason for her current reality, was almost nowhere to be seen, busy with lessons, intimidation sessions with the King, the Prince, and the Knights, and otherwise missing.

Gaius said the tavern the one time she’d asked him, but that had obviously been patently untrue. Morgana had checked. 

Regardless, eating so much as she was — courtesy of the cook, who had never really cooked things as delicious as she did now, actually. How odd — Morgana was actually starting to get a little chubbier, her stomach losing the flatness. In fact, for the way it was, she didn’t even need to use the illusion spell to cover it! 

It was kind of a relief not to have it up all the time, because she was starting to feel a little lethargic, too, her energy draining. 

Definitely Merlin’s fault, she was sure. 

Merlin, who wouldn’t even bother showing his face!

She growled. 

“So, uh,” Arthur said awkwardly, because that seemed to be his go-to state of being these days. “How’s my little nephew doing?”

Morgana shot him a cross look. “It could be a girl,” She snapped. “My baby doesn’t need to be a boy.”

Arthur blinked rapidly. “Er, of course not. A– a girl would be adorable!”

“A boy would be adorable, too!” She shot back. “They’re going to be my child!”

Suffice to say, Arthur was very careful after that.

It was only one-and-a-half agonizing months in, barely a day before the smaller but legally binding wedding was supposed to take place, that Morgana realized the horrible, terrible truth. 

She hadn’t had her monthly bleeding for almost two months. 

“MERLIN!” 

Chapter Text

“You’re what?!” Merlin choked. 

“I’m pregnant!” She hissed. 

“But you said—”

“I know!” She replied. “I’m not!”

“What?”

 “Merlin? Morgana?” Gwen asked, entering the room. “Do you need help? The King and the Prince are waiting.”

Morgana swallowed, and let Merlin fix the flower into her hair — the excuse she’d used to lure him in. “We’re fine,” She said through gritted teeth, and tried to relay her fury to the man through her eyes. 

Merlin paled with every second. “Er, coming,” He said faintly. 

“You said you weren’t pregnant!” Merlin said once they’d been left alone that night, Uther needing to be dragged away from trying to kill Merlin again by Arthur. Again being the operative word since he’d already tried once when the whole city of Camelot had erupted into cheers at Merlin’s name at the announcement.

Morgana really hadn’t known he was so loved. It made her feel annoyed, really. “I shouldn’t be!”

He turned a dull red. “Well, did you— you, know…?” He trailed off suggestively. 

Morgana flushed. “No! You idiot!”

“It’s a reasonable question,” He mumbled, then looked down at her stomach, blushed again, and looked to meet her eyes. “How– how do you know?”

She scowled. “My monthlies haven’t happened for two,” She snapped. “More importantly, I got a spell to check.”

“There’s a spell to check—” Merlin broke off. “Right. Right. Erm, if you haven’t, well, slept with anyone, then who’s the father?” 

He looked so confused he almost seemed cute. Morgana flinched at the thought. “I– uh,” She said, shaking her head. “I don’t know,” She admitted. “It’s like magic, but I would have known if someone cast magic on me, right?”

And in that moment, she felt like a younger Morgana, vulnerable and alone and with only Merlin to help her…

… Like he always did. 

It shouldn’t have been soothing, but her heartbeat slowed and her worry eased. 

Merlin nodded. “We need to go to the druids.”

He even had a plan. 

“Lord—” Iseldir started to say, and then realized Merlin was not alone. 

“Lord?” Morgana whispered to Merlin. 

He looked pained. “Er— Iseldir!” He said in a hurry. “This is Lady Morgana. You might remember her from– from before.”

Iseldir inclined his head in Morgana’s direction, a warm smile on his face. “My Lady,” He said politely. “I see you have news for us.”

Merlin blinked. “How did you…?” 

Iseldir huffed lightly. “Would you doubt it?”

“No,” Merlin said, which cleared up absolutely nothing. “Er,” He added, and Morgana realized everyone else was staring at them. “May we continue this inside?”

“Of course,” The Druid said, leading them into one of the tents. Once they were all sitting, he nodded at Morgana. “I see you’re carrying a little one.”

“See?” Morgana hissed in Merlin’s direction, then turned back to Iseldir. “How can you tell?”

His eyes, confusingly, flickered to Merlin’s first. “Your child is magic, My Lady,” He said gently. “It would be hard not to tell.”

Merlin flinched. 

Morgana felt worse. “But—” She said desperately. “How could it have happened? I have never been intimate with a single soul!”

Iseldir stilled. “Oh,” He said. “Please, let me get Ardiana.”

“Ardiana?” She asked, but he was already gone. 

“The Wise Woman,” Merlin explained. 

“Wait, how do you know?”

“I’ve… been here before,” Merlin admitted, as if he hadn’t just said he was committing treason.

Then again, so did Morgana, purely by existing. 

Before she could grill him further on the mechanics of Druid Life (and perhaps get him to promise to bring her here next time, when she wasn’t so utterly horrified at what was going on), the tent opened and an old woman entered. 

Merlin immediately inclined his head in respect. 

The woman huffed. “Don’t,” She said. “‘Tis already too much getting it from the others. I should not want it from one of your stature.”

His stature? Wait, did this have to do with why Iseldir had called Merlin Lord? He had only barely been awarded his barony! 

If the druids were this knowledgeable, maybe she ought make connections with them instead of the information guild Morgause had suggested. 

“And you…” Ardiana continued, turning to Morgana. “You have a very powerful child in your womb.”

“Iseldir mentioned that,” Morgana said through gritted teeth. “I’m here to ask how it happened when there’s no reason it should have!”

The woman hummed, then turned to Merlin. “Lady Magic… it seems she wished to protect you.” 

Merlin paled. 

“Excuse me?” Morgana demanded icily. 

“I’m saying,” Ardiana continued. “The child is borne of you and Lord–”

“Me,” Merlin finished. “Isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Ardiana said, looking mildly confused. “A very, very powerful being. Of course, not as powerful as Emrys, but powerful still, for ’tis born of destiny and doom.”

Morgana was very confused. 

Merlin just buried his face in his hand. 

Ardiana, presuming her job done, swept out, leaving no space for Morgana to demand more questions. Admittedly, she was simply too shocked to speak, but that wasn’t the point. 

The point was—

Oh, Triple Goddess, what in the bloody hell?

It took returning to Camelot and the home assigned to them while they planned out their future for Morgana to recover. Missing out on the druids was a pity, but more importantly…

She turned, leveled a truly threatening glare at Merlin, and propped her hands on her hips. “Tell me what is going on!” She hissed. 

Merlin winced. “Er—”

She continued to glare. 

“Magic?” He suggested.

And of course, in that moment, because fate was truly a hater of Morgana, the door to their home flew open, letting in her older sister. 

“Morgause!” Morgana gasped, half in shock, half in guilt. 

Whoops. 

The door flew shut behind Morgause, which was odd, but Morgause was glaring at Morgana, and then turning with an even more dangerous glare to Merlin, which was far more attention-catching than the door. “You!” She hissed. “How dare you defile my sister?!”

She couldn't let another person kill Merlin! It was her prerogative! “Morgause, stop!” 

“My Lady,” Merlin said warningly, stepping in front of her like he could protect her. Ha! 

(Like he would protect her…?)

Morgana blinked and nudged him to the side. “Look, sister,” She said soothingly, and it seemed to cut through the tirade Morgause was likely gearing up for. “This is all a misunderstanding.”

Her older sister frowned, her brows furrowing. “So you are not married and pregnant with a babe?”

Morgana winced. “I am, but—”

Morgause became fiery again. “Then he shall die!” 

She raised her hands in presumptive magic, and beside Morgana, Merlin tensed.

But Morgana wasn't going to let anyone else murder her stupid husband, especially considering he was the father of her child, unwanted though the entire situation may be. “Morgause!” She snapped. “No! It's not— it's the Triple Goddess, okay?”

If anything, Morgause just burned worse. “He's made you believe ’tis the will of the goddess?!” She screeched. 

Morgana's head throbbed and her back ached. Angry, she slammed her foot on the ground, and around them, some of their belongings shattered. Morgana hadn't even gotten the chance to check them out. She felt even angrier. “It is the will of the goddess because she's the one who gave me this child!” She shouted. “And Merlin is the father, no matter what you might desire, so it is up to me to decide what to do with him, not you!” She glared. “Now LEAVE!” A wave of magic flew from her, slamming against her sister and pushing her back, forcing her against the wall. 

Morgana's eyes widened in surprise and Morgause crumpled to the floor, but before she could apologize and explain how unintentional it was, Morgause leveled a look at her so betrayed and horrific that Morgana's words died in her throat. 

“So you choose him,” She said quietly, furiously. “So be it. Sisterhood only deserves so much respect, Pendragon.” She swept around, disappearing in magic she hadn't taught Morgana. 

Morgana felt like puking and for once, it had nothing to do with the child. 

Merlin, curse him, pulled her into his arms, and she clutched at him and wept.