She was so beautiful. Like the Goddess herself, or even, forgive me, Mother, the Virgin Mary. She taught me everything - the mists of ages, the fabric of dreams. To everyone else, she was power, the Lady of the Lake, High Priestess of Avalon.
But to me, she was Viviane. Sister, mother, Goddess all in one.
I loved Viviane. I trusted her. And I knew her ways so well.
How could I see that she was to betray me? No. How could I not have seen this?
He looked up at me from the courtyard, smiling with his golden hair and sparkling eyes. Alive, and soon to be a King. A great warrior. A good man, with good intentions. So many years lost, gone forever. I could still remember our childhood, how I had held him in my lap and whispered secrets to him, riding out into the countryside, faster than the wind over the verdant hills.
"Call to me at night. If you listen hard enough, you will hear me answer back."
I missed him terribly. "Perhaps we can ride out into the countryside," I burst breathlessly, meeting him face to face. We laughed, and embraced as one again.
But it was not the first time. Innocence, so fragile and elusive, fell away in one moment of horror.
He told me a terrible secret.
"There is another. I do not know her name; I only knew her for one night. I did not see her face."
It was not true; she would not have done this.
"I do not even know what she looks like. She was wearing a mask. But something about her eyes will stay with me forever."
No, Mother, say it isn't true...
My poor Arthur. You never knew. I wept for you. It should have been Lancelot, not this twisted act of abomination that defied the unthinkable.
But even then, in my heart, I knew that when I looked at him that day on the Tor, he was only thinking of her.
Guinevere was to marry Arthur. Lancelot was Arthur's best friend. He had to watch as I did while the one woman he loved was bound forever to another.
And now, Arthur was in love with me. Not love as a brother loves a sister, but as a man loves a woman.
"Don't leave me alone, Morgaine..."
Viviane, how could you?
I saw them look at each other. There at the wedding. They were as hopeless as we were. Guinevere could not help it any more than Lancelot could. He was an honorable knight; she was a princess, now the High Queen.
Good people, with good intentions.
I felt sick.
It should have been Lancelot! Then he would had loved me. And Arthur would come to love Guinevere, and forget. Lancelot and I. Maybe I could still have him, someday...
I knew what Arthur felt, that it would not die but grow, like the seed that had taken root in my womb. I had to get away from Camelot.
I cursed Viviane, defied the Goddess. But all I did, all I have ever done was in the name of Avalon, and now is for the sake of Arthur as well, I swear it!
"You have twisted our love and turned it into something shameful!"
We all had good intentions. Now we were puppets, pawns in this game of secrets and lies. All because of Viviane.
It broke my heart.
I cannot kill my child. I cannot let Morgause shape the future and mar it more that what the Lady of the Lake has done. But I never set foot in Avalon again.
I only pray that somehow we will not ruin Camelot and Britain with these sins, these mistakes. How cruel Fate is!
I will run, and take my secrets with me. But I know, as well as Viviane does, that no one can outwit the Gods.