Midnight Solitude

~I do not own the characters used in this story~

Dusk. Her most hated moment of the day. It reminded her of the pleasant days that had left far too soon. The days of bubbling laughter and sweet familiar kisses that were placed lovingly on her cheeks. Of course this was years ago, but it was carved so deep into her memories, like a noble blade sliding deep into vulnerable flesh. It was a scar that would forever be with her.

She detested this weakness. How just the thought of her happiness being whisked away, brought forth burning anger that coursed through her veins. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that her resentment took her rational thoughts and locked them away in the murkiest depths of her mind. She also knew how unhealthy it was, but her dark thoughts of revenge brought a cruel smile to her lips and a sadistic yet dull sense of satisfaction.

…He will pay…

Oh she knew that what she was about to do was wrong, so very wrong. She grinned and laughed. Sanity slowly started releasing its grip on her in a mournful goodbye, looking to her with a deep sadness. She took no notice for she was far too gone. Her name was Morgana Le Fay, and this is her descent into madness.

Morgana had a plan. It was risky, but her hatred for her half brother boiled in her veins. After months of careful planning and painstaking patience on her part, she decided on her course of action. She had hidden in some bushes by a road where she knew her foolish brother and new wife were coming on. Her contacts had assured her that they would take this route. Her lips curled in disgust. Her darling brother had just gotten married to the oh-so-beautiful Guinevere. She perked up when she heard hoofs pounding on gravel. Sure enough her mutt of a brother came galloping in the distance with his….pretty….new pet, his loyal knights following in his lead. She nearly snarled as they passed by, but she had to be patient. Besides, she would get what she wanted. Morgana left from behind the bushes and brushed dirt of her dress.

She quickly walked into the forest till she came upon a clearing. There was a soft breeze and the trees were swaying to a silent tune. With a dark chuckle, she concentrated on her magic and beams of light burst forth. Slowly the tendrils of magic cocooned her and once they left, there stood a young fair woman with soft brown locks that went to her delicate waist. Her hazel colored eyes narrowed as she checked her body. It wasn't what she was used to but it would have to do. The woman cackled and looked to the direction of Camelot, then she smirked viciously.

…Here I come baby brother…

The tricky part was getting into Camelot without being noticed. Though she did look like Guinevere, Arthur's precious wife, she still needed to be unnoticed until the real Guinevere was distracted by one of her acquaintances. Morgan giggled and spun on her heels into the shadows as a pair of knights on patrol passed by the area she was in. She gleefully scanned the area, blood pumping in her veins. She then quickly ran ahead when the coast was clear and made her way into the castle and through long corridors to where she knew Arthur's bedchamber was. Morgana was confident in her knowledge of the whole castle thanks to inside people drawing a layout of where everything was.

Finally after swift and silent creeping through the maze called a castle, she made her way to the hall that would lead to Arthur. Morgana gently pushed her magic into the wall she was pressed against. The magic hummed and made it's way to Arthur's room where it slowly trickled in. It then compressed itself against the floor where it caressed the feet of the only occupant in the room. Said occupant stilled from his place in front of his bed and glanced around the room with narrowed eyes. The job, however, was done and the magic made it's way out of the chamber. Morgana smiled when her magic seeped back into her and relayed the information it had gathered. He was alone. After quickly checking her appearance on a conjured mirror she sauntered into the hallway to where two knights were guarding their beloved king, she inwardly sneered.

She smiled at the two warmly and spoke,

" I don't mean to trouble you gentlemen, but may I see my new Lord? There is something which I need to discuss with him..." She trailed off. She could see them both shift in uncertainty before they nodded and moved to the side. She could barely contain her smirk. Fools She though. Morgana then went through the opening and adjusted to the dim lighting, the doors behind her was then being shut by one of the guards.

"Guinevere?" A deep voice questioned from the bed off to the side of the grand room.

"My Lord…" She murmured, having some difficulty keeping in her rage. After all why would sweet Guinevere be angered by the mere presence of her beloved King?

" I wanted to be with you…Of course if you wish me to leave I will do so!" She said rushed. She knew Arthur wouldn't turn her away.

" You may stay." Was his reply, the man was, loath she admit it, handsome. His dark hair, muscled body, and tan complexion being the talk of almost every woman who ever laid eyes on him. She shoved those thoughts away swiftly; she had a mission to do. Morgana, with a seductive smirk, strolled over to the king. Thoughts of revenge consuming her before she was to do what she had to.

It had been years since that night, and Morgan's goal had yet to be completed.

" Again!" She snarled viciously to a boy of twelve who was practicing with a sword on a hay dummy. He was a beautiful child, for he took after his father in all that was physical beauty. He was, however, not like him in the personality aspect. He was panting heavily, but his eyes, which were like the emerald eyes of his mother, were dead. There was no spark of life, they were void of all emotion simply because Morgana had viewed emotion as a weakness. He was Mordred, the product of that one night those many years ago. He was not a loved child. No, you would never say he was loved. His mother hated him almost as much as she hated his father. He was, though, still a child. He longed for his mother's acceptance far more than he valued his life.

Mordred would do anything for his mother, even if it meant killing the father he never knew. His dark locks were plastered to his sweaty face, and he grunted with effort as he lifted the sword and slashed in a downward motion to the dummy.

"That is enough." Morgana said staring at him intensely," I am pleased."

Mordred felt a small swell of pride at that comment; his mother never complemented him.

"Your time is coming young one, you will make your mother proud wont you?" Morgana asked in a croon, she knew of course, Mordred's desire for her acceptance and she was using that to her advantage. Her lips curled cruelly at the thought of what was to come.

"Yes mother." Came the emotionless reply, Mordred's eyes were gleaming with unhidden bloodlust. Morgana nodded, everything was going according to plan.

Soon…

Sounds of battle roared around the large clearing. Loud clangs and clashes from swords rubbing against each other. Smoke was rising in the air and screams of dying men seemed to chill the very core of all those who remained alive. There were two in the very center of the clearing who turned a deaf ear to the soon to be deceased. It was both King Arthur and his twenty-seven year old son Mordred. The former was staring in anguish at the later. Mordred looked to his father impassively, his eyes however showed his eagerness and hatred.

"Must we fight?" The older King asked wearily, his voice soft but carried over to his son. Mordred showed no emotion.

"We must." He stated. Arthur's steeled himself, straitening up.

"Very well then."

With those last words both men launched themselves at each other dancing to the deadly tune of the blades.

The battle was finally done. Many were lost including the slain Mordred who was impaled by Excalibur. Arthur who had been fatally wounded shortly died after bringing an end to Camelot and his legacy.

Morgana had thought that since her most hated were dead that she would find peace….but that was not so. There was an emptiness that haunted her, plagued her every waking moment and followed her to her nightmares. She often would find herself talking to Mordred only to see empty air and she shrieked during the night, so sure the shadows that shifted and lurked in the corners of her cottage were after her. She wasn't capable of eating because the food became tasteless and disgusting. Every full moon she would scream and laugh hysterically, tears streaming down her face. She would lie there curled, mumbling to herself to keep away the sounds that had became louder in the back of her mind. She was breaking. It was one morning though that had made her snap. She had been staring unseeingly across a small lake near her home when the form of her late son appeared before her. It was four words that he spoke to her that drove her over the edge, which had made her jump into the lake where she soon drowned. Four words that echoed in her mind even as the world around her went dim. Four words that made her soul shudder in pain.

Four words that consumed her remaining existence.

I love you mother.

And then she saw darkness.

How was that? Hmm...

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