"Must they take everything from me?" mumbled the breathtaking brunette, her blue eyes sparkling with fury.
"Everything I ever love turns to ash, but it isn't my fault. I refuse to believe that. I can't be blamed because the man who raised me relished in his ignorance and hatred, nor that his very name – Uther, how I loathe that name! – causes in me and hundreds of others this feeling of repulsion. I can't be blamed that he then turned out to be my father – obviously, the only ones responsible for that are him and my mother.
"And how is it my fault that the very blood that runs through my veins is banned? That I had no one to turn to… It is not my shortcoming, but theirs! And then… then I find just one man who I think, perhaps, might listen, might be open-minded…" She cut herself off.
"But he is worse than the rest, a backstabber. A poison-er. And that, too, is not my fault.
"So far in my story they've ripped away my childhood, my lineage, my trust, my innocence… If it continued, I would soon be nothing. Nothing but a frightened shell, as so many before me have become.
"I met one person, then, my sister, and she actually cared about me. Cared about making me strong and helping me to get what I want. She told me… and I believed it… that I had to be strong. If I continued wasting away, dropping everything good behind me like charred wood, no longer any use, I would fade away. And before, I was so strong! So assured! How to get that back?
"She told me that I needed an outward sign of power. Something everyone would respect. And then, then I could rest peacefully, knowing that who I was and am would be fully realized by all. I could be Queen.
"It's not my fault that they refused to accept me. It isn't. It isn't my fault that they slipped past the system. That the same backstabber who poisoned me would hurt my sister… How could I know? But even that, sisterhood, turns to nothing when my fingers reach for it! Now she's gone… I'm alone, and not Queen, and those who ripped all the good things from me are still around. And I am to blame for none of it.
"I'll get them, though. Somehow. I'll… I don't know, but I'll make them pay! It isn't fair that I should suffer for their faults! I'm the victim! I'm not responsible for this! I'll… I'll… I'll kill them." And the ebony-haired beauty buried her head in her hands, fighting back her angry tears.
Next to her, her companion's hazy eyes filled with sympathetic tears. "Say, Missy, that's the saddest news I ever heard. Your poor sister… Terrible people. Terrible," said the drunk. "I think you need another drink."
But Morgana really didn't. She was drunk enough already, her eyes randomly turning an out-of-control gold as her unsteady magic considered escaping this body. Another drink and she might forget herself entirely; she might burn down the tavern.
But, if she did, she could at least have the knowledge that the fire wasn't her fault. It was all on the heads of those fools who had driven her to drink. Perhaps that knowledge would put out the flames and save the building.
"They'll pay for wronging me." Her beautiful lips slurred the words as she reached for another drink of yet another poison, one she freely chose to drink.
Finish.
Please review.
If you don't, I will be forced to put the blame on Arthur. I'm sure it is his fault somehow. By the way, I don't believe Morgause is dead. But one can hope.