Once Upon a Camelot Curse - Chapter Fifteen
“Merlin!”
The addition of another voice made Morgana’s stomach tense. Gwaine. Anyone would know that idiot’s voice by now. It had been a shame that he had turned into the court jester and master of ceremonies in this world. She had quite enjoyed him being her minion in Camelot, fighting for his life every time she snapped her fingers. Although, he still entertained her in this life.
It would be a shame to leave him behind as well.
“Your friend is here… how did you do that, Merlin? How did you find out about all of this?” Morgana couldn’t help herself as she questioned him, the knife brandished in his direction. She wanted desperately to know how they had figured everything out yet again. Her magic had returned and that meant everything to her. It meant she could go back to Camelot and leave them all behind. It was supposed to also mean that she could do it all in secret, have time to plan and postulate and make sure that it all went well and correctly.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Merlin blinked at her, and for a moment, Morgana was convinced that he didn’t look scared. That defiance in him that made her stomach turn was plain on his face. Slowly, he rose from the floor, but didn’t attempt to approach her yet. Maybe it was the fact that his friend was so close that gave him courage to stand up to her. Arthur was always reckless when his friends were around. It seemed that trait had worn off on Merlin as well.
“I don’t know. What I do know is that I’m going to make sure we all get back. Arthur. Gwen. Gaius. All of us. We’ll get back to Camelot with or without you. Even if you manage to make it back alone, don’t get comfortable in that castle, Morgana.” Merlin’s eyes flashed gold and the knife flew from Morgana’s hand, landing in the corner near the cauldron.
Her eyes went wide and her heart thudded in her chest. His magic. Of course. If hers was present, so was his. It only made sense and was the reason he knew exactly what was going on in this universe.
“No!” She screeched, turning on her heel and sprinting towards the knife. Merlin’s warm body collided with her own and they both went down, bouncing off of the stone floor. Pain rocketed up and down her body, but she continued, crawling towards the knife as she tried to kick Merlin off of her. Her foot connected with his chin, sending him sprawling on his back. Pale fingers curled around the knife and she scrambled to her knees and knelt over the cauldron that was now bubbling and steaming. The door flew open to reveal Gwaine, who was pale and winded as he busted through the entryway.
Her chest heaved with heavy breaths as she held the knife up to her arm.
“Goodbye, Merlin,” she spoke, focusing on her foe and praying this would work. If it didn’t, at least maybe it would blow them all up and this could be over with forever.
“Morgana, no!” Merlin cried, scrambling to his knees.
“Áscúfan mín gefýnd ferhþ!” She drew the knife across her pale arm and let the warm drops of blood fall into the cauldron.
And just like before, all was white, enveloping those in the room and beyond.
Morgana stood over the now empty cauldron, knife held to her forearm. Green eyes flicked to observe her surroundings and her heart slowed. She was back in the abandoned keep where she had started this entire spell in the first place. The knife clattered on the floor as she dropped it and lurched out of the room.
It seemed to take forever, but soon she was standing over the basin of water, muttering the spell to be able to observe the person of her choice. It was the same group of people that she had been spying on for what seemed like years. The same group of people that had sent her to try the spell in the first place.
The water swirled in the basin, blurry figures coming into focus. Morgana’s lip curled as the same happy faces appeared. Arthur and his subjects… Arthur and his queen. All celebrating the birth of a great king, as if nothing had happened. As if she hadn’t sent them to a world that was already starting to fade from her memory.
Morgana gripped the basin and toppled it over with a cry that echoed in the empty keep. Hot tears bubbled up in her eyes and spilled over onto her cheeks as she sank down onto her knees, face cradled in her hands. Water seeped into the fabric of her dress, but Morgana didn’t care.
She had been so close.
Rage replaced the pity she had for herself as she climbed to her feet and stormed back into the storeroom. Her supplies were depleted, but that didn’t matter. She was leaving this place. Her fingers curled around the spell book she had found and she hefted it off of the stand it had been living on.
With a final look around the room, she swept out, intent on finding another place to hold up and try again.
Perhaps there was another spell in this book that would work.
The addition of another voice made Morgana’s stomach tense. Gwaine. Anyone would know that idiot’s voice by now. It had been a shame that he had turned into the court jester and master of ceremonies in this world. She had quite enjoyed him being her minion in Camelot, fighting for his life every time she snapped her fingers. Although, he still entertained her in this life.
It would be a shame to leave him behind as well.
“Your friend is here… how did you do that, Merlin? How did you find out about all of this?” Morgana couldn’t help herself as she questioned him, the knife brandished in his direction. She wanted desperately to know how they had figured everything out yet again. Her magic had returned and that meant everything to her. It meant she could go back to Camelot and leave them all behind. It was supposed to also mean that she could do it all in secret, have time to plan and postulate and make sure that it all went well and correctly.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Merlin blinked at her, and for a moment, Morgana was convinced that he didn’t look scared. That defiance in him that made her stomach turn was plain on his face. Slowly, he rose from the floor, but didn’t attempt to approach her yet. Maybe it was the fact that his friend was so close that gave him courage to stand up to her. Arthur was always reckless when his friends were around. It seemed that trait had worn off on Merlin as well.
“I don’t know. What I do know is that I’m going to make sure we all get back. Arthur. Gwen. Gaius. All of us. We’ll get back to Camelot with or without you. Even if you manage to make it back alone, don’t get comfortable in that castle, Morgana.” Merlin’s eyes flashed gold and the knife flew from Morgana’s hand, landing in the corner near the cauldron.
Her eyes went wide and her heart thudded in her chest. His magic. Of course. If hers was present, so was his. It only made sense and was the reason he knew exactly what was going on in this universe.
“No!” She screeched, turning on her heel and sprinting towards the knife. Merlin’s warm body collided with her own and they both went down, bouncing off of the stone floor. Pain rocketed up and down her body, but she continued, crawling towards the knife as she tried to kick Merlin off of her. Her foot connected with his chin, sending him sprawling on his back. Pale fingers curled around the knife and she scrambled to her knees and knelt over the cauldron that was now bubbling and steaming. The door flew open to reveal Gwaine, who was pale and winded as he busted through the entryway.
Her chest heaved with heavy breaths as she held the knife up to her arm.
“Goodbye, Merlin,” she spoke, focusing on her foe and praying this would work. If it didn’t, at least maybe it would blow them all up and this could be over with forever.
“Morgana, no!” Merlin cried, scrambling to his knees.
“Áscúfan mín gefýnd ferhþ!” She drew the knife across her pale arm and let the warm drops of blood fall into the cauldron.
And just like before, all was white, enveloping those in the room and beyond.
Morgana stood over the now empty cauldron, knife held to her forearm. Green eyes flicked to observe her surroundings and her heart slowed. She was back in the abandoned keep where she had started this entire spell in the first place. The knife clattered on the floor as she dropped it and lurched out of the room.
It seemed to take forever, but soon she was standing over the basin of water, muttering the spell to be able to observe the person of her choice. It was the same group of people that she had been spying on for what seemed like years. The same group of people that had sent her to try the spell in the first place.
The water swirled in the basin, blurry figures coming into focus. Morgana’s lip curled as the same happy faces appeared. Arthur and his subjects… Arthur and his queen. All celebrating the birth of a great king, as if nothing had happened. As if she hadn’t sent them to a world that was already starting to fade from her memory.
Morgana gripped the basin and toppled it over with a cry that echoed in the empty keep. Hot tears bubbled up in her eyes and spilled over onto her cheeks as she sank down onto her knees, face cradled in her hands. Water seeped into the fabric of her dress, but Morgana didn’t care.
She had been so close.
Rage replaced the pity she had for herself as she climbed to her feet and stormed back into the storeroom. Her supplies were depleted, but that didn’t matter. She was leaving this place. Her fingers curled around the spell book she had found and she hefted it off of the stand it had been living on.
With a final look around the room, she swept out, intent on finding another place to hold up and try again.
Perhaps there was another spell in this book that would work.