These are dark days now; there are darker days ahead.
With a nod from Morgause, I am shoved forward.
I stare down at the dark hair that I am to place the crown upon. But I don't want to. The crown belongs to the man kneeling at her feet.
His eyes are only barely open, as though he wants to be able to shut them quickly. So he won't have to see.
But I have to see.
I hold up the crown above Morgana's head. I wonder: if I drop it, could the weight kill her? Probably not. But I could try.
My fingers twitch; I prepare to let go.
They'll kill me if I drop it.
My fingers stiffen around the crown. I do not wish to die pointlessly.
Instead I say the words, my voice not shaking. They are horrible, horrible words. I can tell by the smirk on her face, though, that she enjoys them.
"By the powers vested in me, I crown thee Morgana Pendragon, Queen of Camelot."
Queen of Camelot.
Heaven help us.
My arms begin to lower the crown towards her bare head. Perhaps, perhaps if I slam it down, then it will kill the woman who destroyed her own home?
More likely she'll get a headache and I will be killed.
Gently, I leave the crown lying there, nestled in her dark waves, where it doesn't belong.
Queen of Camelot.
I step back. The soldiers shove Uther's shoulders down, making him bow before his own daughter. He closes his eyes, face so pale that his scar seems to stand out more. The former king bows his head. Not in homage. In defeat.
When I tell Gaius, he just shakes his head.
He looks older somehow. I know I do too.
"Geoffrey," he says, "What can we do?"
Perhaps, he continues, Arthur will think of something… But I do not listen. He thinks we are helpless, stuck in Camelot with a Queen who commands an immortal army.
Morgana Pendragon, Queen of Camelot.
The thought makes me sick.
So I tell him, we have to do something. We have to fight back.
But the way he looks at me, blankly, lets me know that he thinks I am wrong. He thinks we should just hope for Arthur.
I need to do something more.
I see her now, walking down the hall with her undying men around her. Protecting her.
I hide my bulk behind a wall, watching her walk, her head held high. She still wears the crown, proclaiming her Queen of Camelot.
Not for long.
My palm sweats, so I shift the knife to my left hand and wipe my right on my clothes. Then I grip the blade in my right again.
I don't need a mirror to tell me I wear a crazed look, a desperate look. But I don't care. I've already seen some of her way of ruling Camelot.
I have no wish to see more.
All the immortal men in the world can't stop me if I am quick enough. It is not her slaves I want to kill; it is her. And she is not immortal.
"For Camelot!" I cry, leaping from my hiding place.
Her face twists in terror when she sees me flying at her, knife held high above my head. She stumbles back. Her men stumble forward, swinging swords.
But I am too fast. They miss me this time. I dive past them, towards Morgana.
Queen of Camelot. Not for long. I'll die, but I will take her with me.
The knife is in the air, and now it is flying down, straight for her heart, quick as lightning.
Her eyes widen.
I do not falter. For Camelot.
Now her eyes flash gold; she mutters words such as I have not heard in years.
My body jerks to the side, and I feel the force of her spell throw me to the floor, breaking my rib.
I moan, but don't stop. I did not get her that time. Gasping, I get to my feet again, intent upon finishing her.
I am inches away from saving Camelot single-handedly. I can end this!
Snick. Rip.
No I can't. Hearing the sounds, I look down at my ample waist, face pale.
I drop my knife.
A blade protrudes from my stomach, covered in gore. I've been stabbed in the back. But there is no pain.
The world begins to spin, the colors darkening into a shadowy whirlpool.
I'm caught in the whirlpool. I am sinking. I am going to die.
This cannot be real.
I have failed.
It can't be real, but it is.
My knees buckle under me, and I fall to the ground. My breath is leaving me now. There is blood on the floor and it is mine.
I, Geoffrey, am going to die, just a failed attempt at rebellion.
And I did not want to die in vain.
I am on my back now, looking up at the ceiling and the heavens and the Queen.
The Queen of Camelot. She stares down at me, her pale face triumphant and a little bit scared.
She is the Queen of Camelot still. I do not want that to be the last thing I see.
I look away as the darkness closes in around me. The light is dark; the day is dark; my world is dark.
My vision is going…
I, Geoffrey, am dying. The rest of Camelot is dying too, but slower. A different kind of death. A worse one.
I close my eyes. I begin to lose my senses. But I can still hear my heart.
Thudthudthud.
Thudthud.
Thud.
Th…
…ud.
It stops.
It does not restart.
These are dark days now; there are darker days ahead. For she is Queen of Camelot.