She was lying on the stone floor of the tower, curled up tightly as if trying to hide herself from the outside world. Next to her was her dragon, his white skin glowing where the few slivers of light in the tower caught it. His eyes were closed like her. Around them, the walls reached high into a pinnacle at the top. There were no doors and no windows. If it wasn't for the few gaps in the stone, Morgana thought she would have already gone insane. Even so, she didn't know how long she could last. The dragon nuzzled closer to her, making soft, sad noises. He couldn't talk to her telepathically anymore. The sorcerer had muted him after they were captured. The sorcerer; that was what confused her the most. A sorcerer had trapped them. The unknown sorcerer didn't ever try to help them.
Morgana hated him.
She liked this hate. It was the only thing that keep her breathing, that stopped her from giving up. She would find this sorcerer, this traitor and then…
It was easier than thinking about Arthur anyway. She didn't know what to think about him and she had had enough time. Why was he allowing this to happen? They were brother and sister. But it seemed he was more loyal to his father, the murderer, than her. What did she expect? She was always the braver one.
The plate of food appeared in front of her, like it did every morning. So it was morning again. She had lost track of hours but she was counting the days by when the food arrived. It was a mental activity, never forgetting. She dreaded the day when the number slipped out of her head.
36.
That was the number of days she had been trapped. More than a month and made far, far longer by the fact that there was nothing. There were only stone walls closing in around her. She wondered how long they were planning to keep her there. Was it a punishment or a lifelong prison?
She had to get free. If her plan had worked she wouldn't have cared what happened afterwards. But it had failed because of the sorcerer. She had to get free and kill Uther.
She was forming a plan. It wasn't much but it kept her occupied. She had been listening to the magic that sent her food here, trying to remember the feel of it so that when she met the sorcerer she would know it was him. But that wasn't the plan. That was simply a revenge for later. No, what she was doing was stealing the magic.
The sorcerer had sealed her and her dragon's magic once they were captured, but he hadn't noticed everything. He hadn't guessed she always, always had a plan B. It was a small bracelet that she had tied tightly half way up her arm, where it wouldn't be revealed if her sleeve fell back. It was simply a leather cord tied around a piece of silver. It was a magic box. When she had been captured she had simply shoved a piece of her magic in there, a tiny piece that no one would notice. Now she was using that magic to attract and hold the magic that brought the food.
He hadn't noticed yet.
Of course, it was still too small an amount to even be a match to the sorcerer – even when she had all her magic he had still defeated her – but it could help her to escape. She was sure that it was the actual building that trapped her magic, like the iron cuffs they put on druids to stop them fighting back. Once she was out she could do anything she wanted.
On day 20 she had tried to move one of the stones. Nothing. She tried again until day 25. It was then that she thought of something else. She thought of someone else who had slipped her mind.
Mordred.
He was out there somewhere otherwise they would have trapped him here with her. Or maybe no one had even suspected him of being involved. He was free. She wasn't.
Mordred!, she called with her magic every day. Mordred, help me!
Ten days had passed but she didn't give up. He would hear her one day and come and save her and heal her, just as she had done for him. She had no idea where she was and it might take that long for Mordred to reach her. But he would. She had that one trust in the world.
She pulled the plate of food and a beaker of water towards her. She drank a few sips of the water, wetting her lips and then waking her dragon and giving the rest to him. She chewed on the stale bread and passed the piece of raw meat to her dragon. It had surprised her at first that the sorcerer would actually think of feeding a dragon but she supposed he knew dragons were valuable. Not that he would ever, ever get hers.
She closed her eyes and listened. The crash of the sea was constant and the cries of the wind. She was listening because there was nothing else she could but wait. She stayed like for a while. Her dragon got up and started pacing around the room. He whimpered a bit as he walked, his legs stiff and unused. The light was fading in the tower, even the cracks of light slowly disappearing. Somehow she had survived another day. One day closer to you, Emrys.
43.
She was starting to give up. It was too hard. Mordred wasn't here and she didn't know how long she could wait. She looked at the plate of food and pushed it away. Her dragon wasn't even moving anymore. He just slept and she was starting to see the point of it. To just end it all. It would be a revenge in a way as well. Arthur, Merlin, Mordred – this is your fault for not saving me, for not caring. Anger flooded through her in a wave and she pushed at the plate with her magic, sending it back to were it had come from. She used all the magic in her bracelet but she didn't care. I'm not going to survive. Uther burnt all those Druids on the stake – this is just another execution but out of the public eye. Her dragon moved closer to her, opening his eyes. And Morgana saw he was crying. She shook her head.
"No, don't.." Then she realised she was crying as well. Crying for her life before the magic came and made it so complicated. Crying because she had never felt so alone in her life, that no one was going to save her. "Why do they hate us so much?" she asked her dragon but he shook shook his head, unable to say anything. She rested her head on his shoulder and slowly they fall asleep.
44.
She didn't want to wake up but the light streaming in hurt her eyes. She ignored the plate of food and water. She would die here. She would rather it was sooner than later.
45.
She didn't open her eyes.
46.
She felt so weak.
47.
Why?
After day 47 she lost count. The nights blurred with the days, her eyes only confusing her. Her dragon was never awake now and just kept on breathing slowly. Slower every time Morgana woke up. She didn't cry any more. She didn't have anything left in her to cry about.