The Darkest Desires - Pt 3

Read Part 1 here.

Read Part 2 here.

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***

The sliver of sky that was visible from Merlin’s bedroom window was completely black. He missed the comforting twinkle of the stars, but they were obscured by clouds that spilled heavy rain, and were visible only in the frequent flashes of lightning that illuminated them from within.

For Merlin, there was no vanity in the knowledge that he was unique to others who practiced magic. He was a creature of the old religion, he was magic personified, rather than someone who used magic as a matter of practice, or even innately possessed magic. He reasoned that was why he felt the absence of the magic he’d foolishly allowed Morgause to steal from him so keenly.

It was as though he’d chopped off one of his own fingers, and he not only missed it, but the pain of the wound was fresh, and would never lessen. He had to get what she’d taken back, or the loss of it would drive him mad. He was aware of it every second of every day, even in his sleep.

Merlin was not the fool Kilgharrah and others took him for. Yes, he was young, and a certain amount of foolishness and naïveté came attached to youth, much like a beautiful smell came from a flower, or a thorn came with a rose. He didn’t see himself as a fool. He was young, he wanted to make the mistakes his elders warned him against so that he could see for himself why it was a mistake. He’d never have known what his mother meant when she warned him something was hot had he never tried to touch a fiery coal in the cookfire as a child.

Kilgharrah had said Merlin would want to give all of himself to Morgause, that he would go back to her time and again and allow her to drain him of all his magic, but the dragon was wrong. He would no sooner do that than he would chop off a second finger after feeling the pain of doing so the first time. He may be naïve, but he was not an idiot.

The sound of the door creaking open roused Merlin from the sleep he’d nearly fallen into. He expected to find Gaius entering his room, needing help with some midnight emergency. Instead Morgana shut the door and the flash of her eyes brought a candle beside his bed to life. She’d learned to start fires intentionally.

She’d summoned him a week after his visit to Morgause. He’d ignored it. She’d sent a summons three days in a row after. He’d ignored those as well. Now she’d come to him herself.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’ve sent for you four times. How dare you ignore a summons from me!”

“How dare you barge into my room in the middle of the night!”

Morgana looked righteously indignant that a servant would speak to her so. It was just one of the many changes that had occurred within her since her return to Camelot. “I wonder what Uther would do if I told him you’d tried to rape me,” she said, a cruel smile on her lips.

“You won’t be saying anything to Uther, so spare me your empty threats.”

“No threat from me is empty, Emrys.”

Perhaps it was her use of the name so many sorcerers used for him, or the fact that they both had magic, but Merlin no longer saw Morgana as his better, he saw her as his lesser. She was vile, she was inwardly ugly, and he had lost all respect for her. He reached out and grabbed her about the neck and pulled her onto the bed. He wanted to warn her away, to frighten her into realizing he was no one to trifle with, but he felt that familiar tug that came with someone trying to drain his magic. That was the real reason for Morgana's visit. She wanted to anger him, to make his feelings run high so she could attempt to take from him as Morgause had, but he easily held her at bay.

Her attempt infuriated Merlin, and his hand clamped down hard on Morgana’s throat. The tugging sensation behind his navel immediately dissipated. Her eyes were now large and fearful.

“Do not think your petty magic can overcome me!” he growled in her face.

“Let go!” she struggled. Morgana’s eyes flashed, but unlike the night she’d managed to take Merlin by surprise and fling him away from her on instinct, he was ready, and it had no effect.

“Why don’t we speak to Arthur, hmm? Why don’t we tell him that Morgause is your sister, and that it makes no sense that you suffered for a year at your own sisters hands. Uther may be blinded to your faults because you’re his daughter, but Arthur will see you for what you really are.”

Morgana's eyes widened in shock as she realized Merlin knew the truth of her true relation to Uther, but he didn't care. He was beyond reason. How dare she invade his space to throw around her threats. How dare she attempt to steal his magic! He was sick of it all. He was fed up with Morgana, with nobles in general, with hiding who he was, with never getting credit. He was sick of the pain of losing his magic. Merlin had never known such rage. Even the genuine fear in Morgana’s eyes as she struggled to breathe under his grip did nothing to snap him out of it.

Then it happened. He felt a connection between himself and Morgana, through her fear. They were sharing energies, but it was not sexual. It was rage and hatred, and it was every bit as powerful as his connection to Morgause. Then he felt something warm against his stomach. He thought perhaps Morgana had urinated in her fear, but it went deeper than being against his navel, it went into him, assuaging the pain of his earlier loss by replacing what Morgana had taken, but it felt insufficient. Her magic was like a salve on a burn, or a bandage on a cut—it brought comfort, but it did not heal.

Morgana gasped at the sensation of having her magic stolen. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled from the corners, and Merlin pushed against the feeling, returning to her what he’d taken by accident. He loosened his grip.

“Tell your sister I will come to her again in three nights. Tell her to have the place we met the last time ready. I want you to be there, Morgana. I want you to watch us. I want you to see what happens.”

Morgana nodded quickly, choking and struggling to swallow, relieved that Merlin was not going to kill her right there. She just wanted to be away from him, but he held her down when she tried to sit up.

“Morgana, if you ever try something like this again, I will drain you completely and leave you a dry husk of what you are now. Do you understand me?”

She nodded again. Merlin released Morgana, and she fled from his room.

***

Kilgharrah listened avidly to Merlin as he told the story of Morgana’s visit for a second time. When he'd finished, having left no detail out, the dragon blinked down at him serenely, saying nothing.

“Well?” Merlin prompted.

“I think you are playing a dangerous game, young warlock—a game you are not guaranteed to win. You have raw power and talent, whereas Morgause has almost thirty years of experience and discipline. I fear you may not be able to take her in an outright contest of wills. Also, Merlin, there is the fact that no one has ever been known to lose or trade their energy and then recapture it.”

“I’m different from anyone who has come before me.”

“Yes, that is true,” Kilgharrah readily agreed. “However you are not infallible, or invincible. Could you retrieve a drop of blood from a cup of water, Merlin? To regain what Morgause has stolen would be equally as impossible…even for you.”

“I have to try. I took from Morgana, and I gave it back. Surely there’s a way for me to…”

Kilgharrah tilted his great head to the side as Merlin did the same in a mirrored movement.

“I do not like what I think you are about to suggest, Merlin,” Kilgharrah said sternly. “I will not trade magic with you. It would be indecent to even ask. I will not obey this command anymore than you would obey a command from your mother to fondle her.”

Merlin grimaced at that imagery. “I would not force you to trade magic in that way, dragon, and I would not ask you to do anything indecent. I took from Morgana out of anger. Perhaps if you and I were to...battle?”

Kilgharrah shook his head. “That would not be possible, Merlin. I cannot fight you. It is literally impossible, even if you wanted me to.”

Merlin’s frustration was great. “I have to try something!”

The dragon sighed, as though he were about to tell Merlin something he did not wish to share, but felt he had no choice. “You could practice on someone you share the bond of friendship with. I can give you a spell that would wipe their memory of events. Then, you could exchange a small amount of your magic for their life energy. They would not feel the gain or the loss keenly, but you would. If you are able to retrieve your magic, and return their life energy in return, you will have succeeded. If not, you have failed and you should not return to Morgause, unless you intend to take from her and live with the exchange. Either way the mortal you choose will not remember you using magic when the sun comes up, nor would anyone they attempted to tell.”

Merlin felt ill at ease. “I couldn’t have sex with someone while they were under a spell and then wipe their memories. That would be wrong.”

“It does not have to be sex. It can be battle. Passions must run high, and that passion need not always be sexual, as your encounter with Morgana proved.”

Merlin knew just the person. Arthur. He’d goad the prince into a fight and then see if he could exchange energy.

“Give me the spell.”

The great dragon breathed in deep, and then breathed a powerful spell into Merlin’s mind.

More to come soon.

***

Read Part 1 here.

Read Part 2 here.

Return home.