Aoife
Disclaimer: I own nothing – yet!
A/N: "Aoife" is pronounced "Eey-fa". It's Gaelic for beautiful.
Chapter 1
Morgana buttoned up her cloak and gracefully mounted her horse. It was a beautiful day out, perfect for riding through the forest (and for escaping Morgause for some time).
Morgause sighed as she watched her sister from a distance. It was sometimes so frustrating that she didn't seem the slightest bit interested in her training, and would rather explore the forest or swim in the lake. Still, at least it made her happy.
As Morgana's horse galloped through the trees, she suddenly yanked on the reins and forced the horse to halt. Its hooves skidded slightly in the mud as Morgana listened intently. Somewhere, a child was crying.
She slid from the horse and raced through the trees, following the screams to a small clearing. Morgana gasped as she ducked into the bushes and watched what was happening.
Two knights of Camelot were roughly dragging a kicking little girl to their horses. She sobbed in agony as they almost wrenched her arm out of its socket, yet the knights ignored this and attempted to lift her onto one of the horses. The girl couldn't be more than four or five, yet the knights treated her like a criminal.
Before Morgana could make a move, the girl let out a bloodcurdling shriek, actually knocking the knights back and into the trees with the force of her voice. They fell limply to the ground, unconscious. The girl collapsed to her knees as Morgana stepped out from the bushes and ran towards her.
"Quick, before they wake up!" whispered Morgana, holding her arms out. The little girl jumped up, her eyes wide with terror at what she had just done. Together they made a dash for Morgana's horse as the knights began to stir slightly, the girl's head buried in Morgana's chest.
*
Morgause gazed at the sky impatiently; it was nearly sunset. Morgana should have been back hours ago...
The pounding of hooves interrupted Morgause's train of thought. She spun around to see her sister riding towards her, a large bundle of fabric clutched to her chest. Morgana jumped from the horse, the bundle shifting slightly to reveal the face of a sleeping child.
Morgause took a step back in horror as the little girl began to stir. Her perfect, ivory face was framed by a mass of golden curls, and her eyes sleepily blinked open to reveal deep blue eyes that cautiously stared at Morgause. Her matching dress and cloak were made of crimson velvet that was embroidered with intricate flower patterns, pushed out at the bottom by umpteen layers of snowy-white lace. It was far too beautiful to belong to anyone who wasn't in some way noble.
"This is Aoife," Morgana said, clutching Aoife a little tighter as she saw her sister's mutinous glare. "She was about to be arrested by Uther's men for having magic, I couldn't just leave her."
"And that makes it alright?" spat Morgause. "Uther is still searching for you, this could have ruined everything! You have to let her go, Morgana, she will bring us nothing but trouble!"
"I refuse to abandon her," Morgana replied coldly. "Now, if you don't mind, it's getting late. I wish to sleep."
Morgause narrowed her eyes at Morgana, who was now carrying Aoife into the partially ruined castle that they had come to call home. Something had to be done before Morgana turned her back on dark magic for good.