Heartless
She hadn't expected to feel so much. As if she was suddenly alone in a World she didn't belong. In a World where she was unwanted. But, of course, she'd never expected this to happen. Not to him. Not to her. She remembered the last thing he'd said to her, he'd warned her, warned her of the danger that she was now becoming aware of. But he'd said more, declared his undying loyalty, his desire to be at her side, always. And she'd just glared at him, shook off his worries and let him go. It was only now, when it was far too late, that she realised what he'd been trying to tell her all along.

She stretched out from the foetal position from which she was curled on her bed, and walked over to the mirror. At first glance, she was as she'd always been; the long ebony hair, the fair skin, the pale eyes, the beauty. But the longer she stared, the more she saw the changes; the mossy braids from her life alone in the woods, the corpse like appearance from her moonlight flights, the ice in her gaze and suddenly her beauty seemed only to mock her, as now there was no-one left to see her in this light. Only in the darkness she'd moulded around herself.

She smashed her hand into the mirror. Her magic could no longer reflect her growing fury, just her own physical force, which had let her down so often in the past. And as she watched the blood trickle down her cracked reflection, the felt a tear trickle down her own face, her own cracked facade. They saw her heartless, but it was just a change in loyalties. They called her cold, but those people no longer mattered to her. Such as the death of Uther, her father, her beloved king, which stung her slightly was nothing compared to the death of Morgause, a sorceress, once her enemy, but instead her sister, her one true ally, and her only love, which had broken her. And the death of Arthur, her so called brother, would be sweet revenge for the recent death of Agravaine, her lord and her last hope.

But as she stared deeper into the mirror, she saw beyond herself. She saw Morgause's eyes flash back at her through her own, Agravaine's undying loyalty that was as red as the blood on the shattered panes, and she watched her lips curve into a wicked smile.

They would call heartless when she'd finished with them. When the whole of Camelot wept for the rivers of blood that would sweep through the streets. When those that had hunted her while she cared for the sister they had attempted to murder, were brought to their knees before her throne. When their tears matched those she'd cried over her sister's dying form, over the death of her last ally, then they would know the wrath of Morgana Pendragon.