She knew when Gwen – no, Guinevere – was crowned queen. Queen of Camelot.

Morgana had sucked in air through her teeth, unable to breathe normally due to the rage ripping through her chest.

Such an envied position. It seemed many people wanted it. Morgana could have laughed at that thought.

She was queen! Not in name, no, but Morgana had been queen. Twice. Just short spans, long enough for her to taste the power, to love it, to know that she controlled fate now, and no one controlled her.

And hadn't Morgana deserved to be queen? Hadn't she? She had worked for it! She had fought and clawed and planned and—

She fell to her knees, gasping for air, too angry to breathe. Something was in her palm.

She'd crawled her way back to her hovel, and nearly gone into hysterics at the sight of it. It wasn't like her to fall apart (she kept telling herself); she was strong, and she hadn't thrown a fit in… too long. She was stronger. But the hovel nearly did it. She'd convinced herself this place was temporary on her road to being queen. Then it would be the beds of Camelot for her, no more cots!

And now—

Whatever was in her hand smashed satisfyingly against the floor when she threw it. But she needed more. She found something else, something wooden, and smashed it too. She threw it against the ground again and again. It was strong, so it didn't snap.

She held onto one end and bashed it against the ground, careless of her fingers and toes as she raged.

BAM!

She deserved to be queen. She needed it. She dreamed and plotted and tried and then Gwen… Guinevere. She just waltzed in, no care in the world, and stole the heart of Morgana's men.

BAM!

They were Morgana's. Morgana's brother. Morgana's enemy. Morgana's new toy knight.

Guinevere took their hearts. Guinevere just smiled and they melted. She didn't have anything to be afraid of, no deep dark secret—not even twice-dead Lancelot. No magic.

Morgana let out a scream as she smacked the wooden plank against the wall.

It's a good thing no one let the whore near Uther; she'd have twisted him around her finger too!

BAM!

Morgana saw them crown her, in her dreams, in her mind, and Guinevere had smiled. As though she'd triumphed.

Triumphed over what? She had barely fought! She must have thought it so easy to take what Morgana wanted. All the while with that innocent little smile, like she didn't know what she was doing. She must think that the battle for the throne was over.

CR-ACK-KK!

The wood snapped in her hand, leaving her with splinters. Suddenly oxygen rushed through her as the pain reminded her how to breathe. She stared at her red-streaked hands and breathed, just breathed.

Smashing it had brought her no satisfaction. Morgana did not want to break things.

Then what could cool this fire in her chest?

Morgana closed her fists. Smashing her. Smashing the usurper. Teaching Guinevere that winning was never that easy.

Smashing Guinevere would bring her satisfaction.

A small smile forced her lips painfully up her cheeks.

Then she looked around. She would show Guinevere, but she would not do it from this hovel. She had told herself that she would never live here again, that this was temporary.

She had meant it.

Kicking the broken wood out of her way, Morgana wiped her hand and small marks of blood onto her dress, and then she opened the door and left.

A/N: Now I know you want to kill me for starting another story. I'm going to try not to update this one again until I've finished X Marks the Man and written at least one more chapter of Gilligan's Lady. But I felt like throwing something the other day so I wrote this, but now it's a problem. It needs to be finished, but I only have some vague ideas. Unless it works better as a oneshot?

The problem is, I don't know who I want to win. See, I didn't like Morgana until season 4, but now she's sort of my queen. She's my fiery queen. But recently I've realized that, hello, Gwen is the most awesome person ever, and I will argue the point if I must (and I know I will). She's my peaceful queen.

Only one can win.