The knights were on edge as they crept through the trees in the darkness. The deep green moss that clung to every surface absorbed the little light the moon gave out and thick tendrils of mist slithered their way around the tree roots concealing the ground and upping the chances of the men falling on their own swords. Gwen liked that idea very muchly. They were all full of their own self importance and much like Arthur, all believed her to be totally incapable of anything. There were eight of them in total, 16 legs, 16 arms and one brain. She walked to the back of the group wondering what in hell they were hoping to achieve blundering through the undergrowth at 3am armed with petty swords and a rumour that Morgana was near by. With any luck, the woman would turn up and kill them all. She didn't want to die but with the way things were going, she wasn't keen on living either. If she was going to be killed, she wanted Morgana to be the one to do it.
She's already killed me on the inside, she might as well finish the job.
"So, how's your kid getting along? Not been in anymore trouble, eh?"
Gwen rolled her eyes. She assumed this was a man-pride thing, 'look at me, i'm so un-scared I'm talking about kids that aren't even mine. Look at me, theres a good chance I'm about to die and I'm too thick to care.'
She snorted to herself.
"Well, not as such. Still can't get the lying under control though. The only consolation is that my brother's boy is slightly worse than him." The young knight stopped for a moment with a thoughtful expression. "Though in some ways, I think I'd rather my child was the 'best'" Replied a knight to her left.
Gwen pulled a face. Tit.
There was a snapping of twigs behind them and the knights all whirled around, their hands tight on the pummels of their half drawn swords. A vague, yet thick darkness began to seep out of nowhere, creeping closer and closer until they were all tightly rounded up in a tiny little pen of light. There was a seconds hesitation, and Gwen went blind. The darkness was upon them and the knights swords became predictably useless, unless they wanted to chop their own balls off. The knights stood in total silence and Gwen got the feeling she was trapped inside a ring of them, walled in by their backs as they all faced out into the darkness. Gwen didn't see the point. Morgana had found them. They were all going to die. She had been right. The end.
The seconds dripped by and Gwen halfheartedly struggled to get her eyes to adjust, failing all the way. She guessed this was no normal darkness, and no natural methods were going to overthrow it. There was a sudden yelp to her left and a cool breeze brushed against her cheeks followed by a heavy thump. Before she had time to properly process it, another sounded to her right, then to her left again, and then behind her. She reached outwards to where one of the nameless knights had been stood a few moments before and found her fingertips grazed over nothingness. She swallowed. Another thump and by this time she could hear heavy breaths of the remaining three knights as they began to loose their cool. But she heard nothing of her.
The last knights fell in unison to the ground around her and Gwen decided that she probably had under a minute left to live. She poked forwards with her foot and wrinkled her nose as it smacked against a head. She vaguely remembered lady Vivian telling her that if she was the best Camelot had, then she feared for Camelot. At the time she had taken mild offence but as far as the knights were concerned it would seem the spoiled, shallow woman had been right.
"Whole lot of good you were." She muttered, kicking the obscured body again in annoyance. There was a soft hum of amusement from behind her. "Someone's bitter."
She looked around aimlessly in the darkness for any indicator of where the voice had come from but found none.
Gwen sighed. "Yeah. Bitter... Blind."
Her vision flooded back to her on cue and she blinked as Morgana face registered two inches from her own.
"Long time."
Gwen looked at her studiously. "You've got thinner." She said, totally ignoring the previous comment.
"So have you." The dark witch said.
Gwen raised an eyebrow. "What happened to your hair? You could be an imposter in there for all I know."
Morgana smirked, leaned in and kissed her slowly and for a moment, Gwen felt a twinge of sadness at what she'd lost.
The Queen blinked as she pulled away. "On second thoughts, it's you." She said with renewed confidence.
"Glad you remember last time with a vividness enough to be sure."
Gwen remembered last time. And the time before that and in fact, all the times since the first when they were teenagers, drunk, and with a surplus of free time in the evenings. But it had been a while now.
"If you're going to kill me, could you get it over with quickly please, its just you've been slowly and painfully dragging it out for quite a few years now and I'd quite like to just have an end to it if its all the same to you." Gwen said with an air of defeat.
The witch stared at her for a moment, wondering why the woman- whether Gwen knew it or not- Morgana still loved seemed so keen to be killed off.
"If I wanted to kill you, I'd have done it by now." She said slowly, regarding the slumped knights in the ground around them. Unlike the woman she used to know, Gwen didn't care for them at all.
"I wish you'd done it when you first left."
A flicker of sadness passed behind Morgana's dark eyes. "Gwen don't say that.." She said in resignation.
Gwen didn't mean to lash out but she couldn't help herself. "Don't you say that with those sad eyes! You left me to Arthur without even saying goodbye! For years I didn't even know where you were or if you were alive, and when I was informed it was followed shortly by the news that you wanted me dead!" There were tears in her eyes by the time she stopped herself and Morgana would have made a move to hug her if she didn't know she'd get slapped for it.
"I had to leave." The witch said bluntly.
Gwen's eyes darkened. She turned away from Morgana and the dead knights and started walking away from the scene in one fluid motion.
"Gwen, don't just walk away." Morgana said following her but sounding like she was ready to walk away herself.
"I'm sorry," Gwen said caustically, "I had to leave."
Morgana rolled her eyes and caught the woman by her wrist. For a long moment they stared at each other, Gwen's eyes smouldering with anger and Morgana's desperately searching for something within them that she could appeal to to get the woman to stay.
"Do you hate me?" The witch asked simply.
Gwen slapped her so hard she had to bite her lip to stop the yelp of pain from escaping her. She wasn't remotely angry though as she turned her face back to Gwen who had tears in her eyes once again, she deserved everything she got- but the pride deep inside Morgana still prevented her from lifting her hand to touch her stinging cheek.
"Of course I don't hate you." Gwen growled, taking a step towards Morgana, "I've never been able to hate you, not when you left me alone, not when you tore my heart out, not when you tried to kill my friends." The younger woman closed the gap between them and caught Morgana less than gently by the jaw. "I couldn't even hate you when you were seconds away from running me through with a sword."
"I would never have-"
Morgana was abruptly cut off as Gwen kissed her roughly, her fingers slipping into the other woman's hair and curling into a loose fist which was the only reminder of the now melted anger that had been so solid seconds ago. Morgana was glad of the simple reflex which kicked in and took over for her so that her mind wasn't left with too much power- in this case, it was probably best to leave something else in charge anyway. Gwen's lips were soft against hers as Morgana brought her hand up to cup her cheek and she fought the urge to push the other woman against the nearest tree and make up for lost time.
"I love you," Morgana said softly as their lips parted for a short second, "And I always have," Gwen broke away to look the witch in the eyes.
Gwen considered slapping her again but the notion died in her head and she leaned forward and put her arms around the other woman's neck tightly, holding onto her like she knew she should have all those years ago when she first realised something was wrong.
"I'm sorry," Morgana said at last, "I never intended to hurt you."
Gwen cursed herself as tears won and took a long moment to compose her voice enough to speak. "Don't leave again.." She said quietly.
Morgana kissed the side of her head and smiled sadly. "I can't stay, you know I can't."
"Then take me with you."
Morgana tipped her head to one side and creased her brow. "Gwen.."
"I mean it." Gwen said, looking back over to the knights behind them. "I don't want to go back. I can't go back."
Morgana took Gwen's face in her hands. "You know, I'd still burn Camelot. I'd set the sky alight and watch the cinders of the once great kingdom fall around me like snow. But I didn't chose for it to be that way, all of my life I've either talked too much or stayed silent for days. Slept for fourteen hours or had insomniac nights. Fallen in love very hard or hated passionately. I don't know what grey is. I never have. But thats the way I was shaped, by Uther and by Arthur and by all the lies they told me, I would never have chosen all of this. And I don't want you to."
Gwen moved her head down slightly and kissed Morgana's thumb. "I don't. I choose you. There's a difference."
Morgana smiled softly. "You don't know what you're letting yourself in for." She said, trying her hardest to sound persuasive when she knew all too well that she was as likely to be able to walk away from Gwen as Gwen was to just let her.
"I didn't know what I was letting myself in for when I was sixteen and first laid eyes on you, but I don't regret it." Gwen said, finding herself patting Morgana's hair down as she remembered her days as the witches maid.
Morgana bit her lip and wrapped an arm around Gwen's waist. "No regrets?"
Gwen kissed Morgana's cheek slowly and answered sternly. "No regrets."
Morgana's eyes glowed a soft golden and in a second, all that was left was thick tendrils of mist which slithered over the tree roots and concealed the ground the knights lay on, downing the chances that they'd ever be found.