An Enemy of Your Own Doing
"Those are Just dreams, Morgana, nothing more. Are you taking the sleeping draught I made for you?"
Morgana was torn between screaming at Gaius and breaking down in tears. He didn't believe her, he never did. He kept on treating her the same way, and nothing ever changed. The dreams weren't going away – nor could she believe that they were just something from her imagination. She knew what she had seen.
"Oh, it doesn't help" she snapped, annoyed. Couldn't he see it?
"Here. Try this. It will induce deeper sleep." Morgana picked the bottle from the physician's hands, but she knew it would be useless. A part of her wished that Arthur would die in Sophia's hands just to prove Gaius once and for all that she wasn't a scared little girl as he seemed to think, or, worse, just plainly insane. "You have nothing to fear" he added.
'But Arthur does', she thought to herself, nodding in an agreement that didn't come from her heart.
"Thank you, Gaius" she said, striving to be polite.
"Morgana" he said, as she started to walk away. "Don't bother Uther about this. No need to worry him."
She might have laughed out loud at that. She knew fully well that if she was right – and she was sure that she was – telling Uther would be risking her own safety and wouldn't help Arthur in any way. Did Gaius truly think her so foolish? Then again, if he didn't believe her, why should he care? If it was just some fancy, why should she lie?
With her head more full of doubts then when she came, Morgana left the physician's chambers, wondering just where she could find answers when the person that was supposed to help seemed decided on denying them.