The Darkest Hour
I knew nothing could ever happen. Not between us. Me, Lord Protector of Camelot, the kingdom under my control while the ruler is too weak, not that this was a difference, my goal to keep the people safe from harm. Her, a witch, a convicted traitor, hunted by knights and witch finders alike, her aim to destroy those who had brought her down, and take back what was rightfully hers. But still, as I rode fast through the woods, the moonlight filtering through the shadowy trees my only source of light, I could not prevent my heart beating fast, my head spinning.

My reception was frosty, as usual for her. I pushed open the wooden door cautiously, not wishing to alarm the inhabitant, those who lived alone startled easily I'd found. Instead, I was met with emptiness.

My eyes straining in the darkness, shivering with the cold, I called gently, 'My Lady?'

I felt the knife tip against my back before I even heard movement. Yet the knife was a warmth in the cold, just knowing in whose hand it was residing.

'My Lord.' Her lilting voice spoke from behind me, and I could imagine her face as she spoke, her eyebrows raised, slightly mocking, but altogether grateful for my visit. I heard a muffled slam as she pushed the door shut behind her. I knew her eyes would not be drifting from my figure though.

'I really think you should stop greeting me like this, Morgana.' I turned around to meet her quizzical gaze, her mossy eyes glistening in the dim light. 'It's no way to welcome an ally.'

She lowered the knife slowly. 'You're probably right.' Her eyes flashed and a fire burst into life from a pile of logs on the floor beside me. She walked away, towards her low chair before looking back and flashing a smirk back at me. 'But you can never be too careful.'

She waited until I was seated beside her, my hands warming against the roaring fire, before she spoke again.

'You haven't visited recently.' She pouted slightly, an action that only emphasised her beauty, which she undoubtedly knew. But I could never resist. 'I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.'

'I have to be careful, my Lady,' I explained slowly, 'With the rumour of a traitor in Camelot, it is only a matter of time before I am suspected. The physician already doubts me, with my visits here having been so frequent.'

'Well be careful, Gaius is shrewd.' She was mocking me now, her words cutting. 'And if you were discovered, I really don't know what use I'd have for you.'

'Morgana...' As much as I tried, I couldn't harden myself against her cold stare, the threat dripping from her lips. The disappointment must have showed in my face, as I watched her eyes light up.

'I am surprised you haven't framed anyone else, yet, my Lord.' Morgana shook her head but her eyes remained bright, as though the idea itself had only just hit her. 'Surely that would be a way to end both of your problems...'

She let herself drift, but I knew her plan. She smiled wickedly.

'Uncle, you seem distracted.'

I snapped back from my thoughts to find Arthur studying me, his young face already beginning to show lines of concern. It was a meeting of the Council in Camelot's great hall. Stacks of parchment lay in front of me, accounts, figures, notes, and I knew I should have been concentrating, if for nothing other than keeping my facade. But all I could think of was her.

'It's nothing, Sire, I must just be tired,' I lied quickly but I saw a gleam in his eye. My heart began pounding, frequent when living in fear of being caught out, when spying in your own blood. But I couldn't help panicking, what had he noticed? What hadn't I done?

'You can't lie, Uncle.' A smile began creeping on his face. My pounding heart was now racing, and I fought to keep my face still. But he had other ideas. 'I know that look well enough, the guilty expressions, the lack of concentration...it's a woman, isn't it?'

Shocked, I watched as the Knights in the Council began chuckling while Arthur was smiling broadly. The older members were looking on curiously while I felt myself, uncomfortable already; begin, unfortunately, to blush.

'Ridiculous, Sire.' I waved my hand dismissively but Arthur just raised his eyebrows. Out the corner of my eyes, I could see the physician, Gaius, listen in carefully. I gestured back to the parchment. 'I think these matters need attending to...'

'Surely Council can wait?' I glared at the speaker, one of Arthur's knights, a Sir Gwaine? 'Haven't heard anything this interesting in a while.'

There were a few laughs in the room and Arthur sat, thoroughly entertained by this apparent news. As he sat forward in his seat, looking intently at me, I realised he was not going to forget this.

'Just a few details, Uncle, and then I promise we will let the matter drop?' Arthur suggested before lowering to a whisper. 'I just know how long you've been alone and this news...I know my mother would be pleased.'

The reference to my sister caused me to sigh and I felt my defenses crumble. The scars of her death still felt livid on my heart, especially more recently, while I was in Camelot rather than my usual home. As for the reference to my loneliness, it was true I had been unmarried for some time. My first wife had died within the first year of our marriage. But I had been young, only Arthur's age, and it had been purely a status match, so I had recovered quickly. I'd never considered remarriage. At least, not until now.

He took my silence as an acceptance to his agreement. 'How old then, Uncle?'
I shifted uncomfortably, seeing only Morgana's mocking smile in my mind. 'Younger.'

I heard a few wolf whistles from the knights, a disgusting sound in my opinion, but it amused Arthur greatly. He was struggling to contain his laughter as he asked, 'Pretty?'

'The most beautiful...' The speech had escaped my mouth before I'd even thought about my answer. Arthur's inquisitive stare forced me to explain. 'Dark hair, pale...'

I watched with narrowed eyes as the Merlin boy coughed loudly at this description. He couldn't know, surely? Would Gaius have spoken to him? It seemed Arthur paid him little attention though, muttering darkly under his breath at Merlin's interference before leaning forward to me.
'One last question, Uncle, her name?'

This made me freeze. 'I couldn't, Sire, she would be furious...'
I thought of Morgana's reaction if she discovered this conversation...if she discovered these feelings, and I felt my heart drop.

'Ah, a secret?' Arthur said curiously before yelling out jokingly, 'And you'd have had me believe that Uncle could be the traitor, Sir Leon.'

Arthur slapped me hard on the shoulder and I felt myself smile slightly, knowing I was out of question as the traitor now. Not exactly as Morgana had planned it though, I chuckled to myself.
'Bring her to court!'

This sudden order shocked me out of my thoughts and, once again, I felt myself stammering, my mind blank.

'I'm not sure that would be advisable, Arthur,' I murmured, my mind flashing back to the stories I'd heard about the last time Morgana visited Camelot. Uther's humiliation at her feet as she was crowned, the killing of the peasants on her orders, her sister's attack, and the untamable fury that she now possessed, boiling inside her everyday while the throne remained out of her reach. 'She's not really a court sort of person, I'm afraid.'

Arthur nodded slowly. 'I understand, Uncle, you're still trying to woo her, aren't you?' I'm not entirely sure what he saw in my face, but he seemed to take it for agreement. 'Well, do not worry, Uncle, I can't think of a reason she will not feel for you, also. Just remember, the darkest hour is just before the dawn.'

And with this, he returned to the Council. But all I could think of was the first time I had heard that line.

Her breath was quick and shallow as she lay on the bed. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, but painfully, the stabbing visible in her dark, glazed eyes, though she tried hard to cover it. Her golden hair lay spread, untamed, across the pillow, like a lion's mane. And, injured as she was, when she looked at me, I could see the lion in her still.

'It was good of you to visit, Lord Agravaine.' Morgause nodded briefly at me from the bed. 'A big risk for you...'

'You seem to understand me far too much for me to pass at the invitation,' I replied, and she smiled weakly at the mention of the letter she had sent me the previous month, a letter that could not have been more true if I myself had written it, detailing my own heartfelt emotion. 'But I still cannot understand...'

'I have not long for this World, Agravaine.' She was blunt, stopping my own heart momentarily with the news. She raised herself up from the pillow with one arm, wincing with pain. 'The move to this hovel, chased by the Knights of Camelot from my castle, has taken my strength.'

I scanned the dark, one roomed hovel with a look of disgust. It was dirty, unkempt, a fire burnt low in the middle of the room. The only sign of luxury was the bed Morgause lay in, although plainly made from badly carved wood, thick furs piled high, presumably to prevent further illness weakening her body.

'I don't know how...'

'Morgana knows I have little time left,' she explained, before noticing my glances around the room. 'She's not here, she's collecting firewood. I'm aware you haven't seen her in a while.'

'The Lady Morgana?' I stammered, my heart racing at the prospect of seeing her, it had been so long. Despite not being blood related, I'd always treated her just as close as Arthur to me. Though the last time I'd seen her, she'd made my pulse quicken much more than I'd have liked. 'She wasn't at court last time I visited...'

'She was with me.' Morgause smiled, I presumed in memory, before shaking her head. 'But Morgana doesn't understand. She's never been on her own, not like this.' She must have seen the doubt in my eyes because her face clouded over. 'Do not doubt her, Agravaine, she's powerful. So much more powerful than I ever could be, and she's so strong, so beautiful in her determination. She will stop at nothing for her birthright. For the throne is her birthright, do not forget that.'

Beneath her cracked whisper, I could feel the anger, and behind me, I suddenly heard the crackling of fire. The dying embers had reignited, Morgause sighed, tired. 'I have lost control of my magic in my state.'

I decided, diplomatically, to get back on topic, determined not to anger her any further. 'You would like me to ally Morgana? Bring down Uther with her? Help her?'

'Be her ally, her spy, her traitor, yes. But never help her. She may need your advice, but she will never need your help, Agravaine.' Morgause smirked, sending a chill down my spine, despite the newly ignited fire. 'Morgana is the daughter of a King, the sister of a Prince. She is the ally of a Traitor and the lover of a Witch. But she is the enemy of all, never forget that.' Her speech must have affected me for she softened slightly when she looked up at my face. 'You must just remind her that, sometimes, the darkest hour is just before the dawn.'

It was these words that haunted me as my horse's hooves hammered the shadowy ground, once again, as I left Camelot behind me. One day, I hoped to make this journey my last, forever leaving the threat of Camelot's walls in my past. But as Morgause's dark eyes bored my soul, my sister's dying words lingered in my ears, Morgana's damaged smile imprinted in my mind, I knew I could never give this life up. I knew where my loyalties were.
But Arthur's words swirled around my head too. He was happy for me, for what? For betraying him? Betraying Camelot? No, something else. For what I felt in my heart; because it was there. The pounding, jumping sensation I felt on this journey. Nerves? Fear? Excitement? And I realised that Morgause's words, my promises to my sister, meant nothing to me. Nothing compared to the beauty of Morgana, whose own cold heart made mine burn so fiercely. Nothing compared to the desire I felt scorch my insides whenever she was close. Nothing compared to the promise, however distant, of her one day.

It was with this sudden resolution that I entered her hovel, and my hope seemed to shatter at the chaos that met me. One of the shelves lay collapsed on the ground, smashed pots littered the floor and, in the mess, she was not there.

'Morgana? My Lady?' Fear gripped my throat and my heart, that had been pounding so quickly, seemed to freeze. Stumbling blindly, I made my way outside, across the woodland, trampling moss and flowers alike in my hurry. She had to be around, somewhere, I had to find her. But the idea of finding her scared me. I couldn't find her dead, I couldn't.

My heart stopped, and I wondered if I was dead, was this Hell? I had found her, her pale form lying lifeless across the ground. Her dark hair lay spread behind her head, forming a dark halo around her serene face, giving her the impression of a fallen angel on the ground. I couldn't feel the ground as I approached her, all I felt was the sinking of my heart, the crashing of my hopes, and the cold tear that seemed to be making its way down my cheek. My hand shaking, I knelt down and caressed her face, yet was met with warmth. Breathing deeply, I felt her neck gently. Life? Alive? But for how long?
I'd never been too lucky in life, and it must have reflected. But, picking Morgana off the ground, cradling her as I seemed to have done so many; soldiers, my sister, my heart raced as never before. I had one more chance. She was light in my arms, almost motionless but for the shallow breathing. Leaning in closer to her hanging head, I breathed, as light as her breathing it seemed, with Arthur and Morgause's words causing my head to spin.

'The darkest hour comes just before the Dawn, Morgana, I promise.'