Hey guys
Just a one shot based on The Sword in the Stone Part Two
Spoilers ahead
Hope you enjoy and reviews = virtual cookies
Love
Fey of the Forest
Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin
It hurt.
She hurt so much, both physically from the wound in her side and mentally from the thought of defeat yet again. She had languished and relaxed whilst she held the throne of Camelot, and that had been her undoing. Now she had lost everyone she had trusted. She had lost all that she had fought for. Camelot was back in the hands of Arthur and she had no one left to turn to. Even if she did they probably wouldn't help her. After all, what had she got left now? Even her magic had deserted her.
She couldn't understand why her magic had gone. After all, it had been growing and she had been more powerful since Morgause had taught her in the ways of the Priestess' of the Old Religion. Since her half sister's sacrifice Morgana had practised all she had been taught and learnt more besides, and would more than qualify for a High Priestess. Most of the magicians she had met had respected that, but not all. And there was one in particular that she knew would be her undoing. Emrys.
It was him who had caused her defeat now and in the past. She had no idea who this man was or what quarrel he had with her. All she knew was that no matter what she did to try to take her rightful place as Queen he managed to stop her. She couldn't see a reason why he would protect Camelot and Arthur either. After all, had Uther not been the one responsible for the Great Purge? And did Arthur not hold the same views on magic as his father? So why would someone risk their life so many times to save someone who would have them killed the first chance they got?
A sharp pang of pain from her chest brought her back from her thoughts. Resting for a moment as she entered the woods, she took a few deep breaths and worked out where she should go. All she had known was that if she had any chance of survival she had to get away from that castle. So she had ran but now her energy was leaving her. She knew that if she had her magic being wounded wouldn't have been a problem, but as it was she thought that if she could get to her hut then she may be able to sort herself out. But she didn't know if she would make it to her hut without collapsing first.
She didn't know how it had happened. One minute she had been about to kill the serving girl who threatened to take her place on the throne and the next she had been thrown into the air by magic. Though she hadn't seen the person responsible she knew that it had to have been Emrys. He was the one who had been haunting her and she was certain he would be responsible for her demise. Non the less she had seized the chance and ran, leaving the castle before anyone could capture her. She had been in so much pain and now was in agony. But she had to evade capture. It was bad enough that she had been defeated and had lost all that she had, but to be captured was something even worse. Then her brother would be completely victorious and perhaps she would live to fight another day...
She stumbled onwards, diverting from the path, knowing that she could not be far away now. If she could get to her hut then she could at least patch herself up until she found help. But her energy reserves would not last. She was drained from her journey and the day's events. She refused to let herself to die like a dog on the side of the road, for it was not the way that the true and rightful queen of Camelot should die. So she struggled on, though every step caused her immense pain and her breathing became increasingly laboured. She was dying, though she refused to accept the fact.
But as she half walked half ran, she stumbled. Falling to the ground she cried out in pain, only to realise that there was no one to help her. She considered getting to her feet, but she had neither the energy nor the will to. Lying there on the forest floor just a few miles from the castle she had lived in, Morgana took her last breaths, thinking that she would never rise again.
But just as she had given up she felt powerful magic flow through her veins and she took a deep breath. Opening her eyes she felt very confused. No one that she knew would wish to heal her, and she didn't know anyone with magic powerful enough to do this. But as her vision cleared she saw the creature responsible and Morgana was speechless.
Standing there, just a few metres away, was one of the most beautiful creatures she had ever lay her eyes upon.
Her white scales shone in the light and her wings were slightly spread. She seemed to be happy from the noise that she made and her eyes reflected her joy. The white dragon must have been young but her magic was already powerful. Morgana could tell that the creature was already as powerful as her. Looking into those eyes she felt some sort of connection. Whether it was because they were both creatures of magic who had survived Uther's reign of terror or something else she had no idea, but looking into those eyes she felt different. She felt like her very soul was being spread open for all to see, but only the dragon was there.
She had no idea why the dragon was there. She had no idea why it had healed her either. But she did know that this creature was far more beautiful than anything she had ever seen, and she had an idea she would not see anything like this ever again. Nothing would ever change that moment, and Morgana found herself ignoring the day's events. It didn't matter that she had lost her friends and Camelot had fallen to her brother. It didn't matter that she had been defeated. Because she had been given this chance to meet a creature that defied an adequate description. Before she could move though the dragon flew off, and Morgana had no idea if she would ever lay eyes on it again. She hoped she would. After all, that creature had saved her life.
For some unknown reason that young white dragon had healed her. But Morgana knew that there had to be a purpose, and one she would soon find out.