Managed to update sooner than expected, although next chapter will probably be another delayed one as I'm moving back to Uni soon. However all chapters are planned out now and hopefully once I've settled in we'll have more consistent updates :)
In the meantime I hope you enjoy this chapter, in which we learn a bit more about Morgana's childhood and she meets her future husband...
Thanks again for everyone's feedback for the story so far, please keep it up :)
Chapter 3
Kasim
"Blue eyes just smile to the world, full of dreams and with fascination,
Too soon she saw that her hands were chained and pulled without any freedom."
- Within Temptation, Blue Eyes.
Morgana winced as she felt a pin prick her scalp, "Sorry!" Said her maid, Gwen, hurriedly.
"It's fine," Morgana managed a smile through her nerves and pain, there were so many pins pulling back her hair now she could already tell this was going to be a very uncomfortable night. But Morgana couldn't be mad at her, it wasn't Gwen's fault that she had been told to dress her Lady in such a way, she was just doing her job and Morgana wouldn't want it to be done by anyone else.
"How are you feeling about tonight?" Gwen asked.
If anyone else had asked her that question Morgana would have probably lied and pretended she was looking forward to the night's feast, but she could be honest around her best friend. She sighed sadly, "Nervous. I know down in the Great Hall my future husband will be there, waiting. But I don't want a husband, I have no idea what he's going to be like and I fear at the end of the day I will have no choice about marrying him, whoever he is."
Gwen put down the remaining pins and took Morgana's hands in hers, a comforting smile on her face. "It will be all right, my Lady. Trust me, and whatever happens, I'll always be here for you."
Despite her nerves, Morgana managed to smile. What would she do without Gwen? Her trusted friend and servant for years now. Odin disapproved, telling Morgana she shouldn't have such close relationships with those of lower status than her, but Morgana didn't care, and she knew he couldn't take away their friendship.
Gwen put the last pin in Morgana's hair, "I think you're all done, my Lady," she said as she handed Morgana a mirror.
Morgana's long, dark hair had been pulled up into a tight bun, she could feel the many pins already digging painfully into her scalp, with just a single, curled strand hanging down her face. Her lips had been painted bright red and her face powdered to make her look even paler than usual. She had to admit Gwen had done a good job, but she knew her maidservant had been told to do this to her hair so her future husband would be able to see the whole of her face and the beauty which was held within it. Her stomach gave a nasty jolt at the thought. She didn't want to be made beautiful. She was also wearing her favourite dress, a long, blood red one with ruby-coloured gems around the sleeves and neckline. It was the dress she and Gwen would always joke about how it would give the boys "a night to remember", but she was in no mood to tell these jokes any more. She wanted nothing better than to blend into the stone walls of the Great Hall, but tonight she was being forced to stand out.
"Thank you, Gwen. I suppose I shouldn't keep them waiting much longer," Morgana said with the most convincing smile she could muster.
Gwen nodded. "Shall I wait up for you my Lady?"
"Yes please," it was so comforting for Morgana to know at the end of the night she could return to a friendly face.
"Remember, my Lady, first impressions are important, let them know who they're letting themselves in for!"
Even now, Gwen could make Morgana laugh. "Don't worry Gwen, I will!" She said, although she knew if she was to survive this night she would have to be nothing like her ordinary, rebellious, out spoken self, she would have to pretend to be happy to see the King and her future husband, and that filled her with even more dread.
Unable to think of anything else that could delay her any longer Morgana, with a deep breath, left her chamber and walked into the Great Hall, feeling as if she was about to go on trial.
The usually cold and dim Great Hall was filled with colour and light that evening. Guests were still milling around, waiting for dinner to be served on the grand, rectangular oak table that stretched from one end of the Hall to the other. Two grand chandeliers hung from the ceiling and upon every windowsill sat glimmering candles, bathing the place in warmth and light. Flags of black and dark green hung from the ceiling and patterned tapestries decorated the walls.
So many memories swirled round Morgana's head as she wandered aimlessly around the Hall. This was the room she had first met Odin, her guardian, as a terrified little girl who had just been told that her father had died and someone else would have to look after her now. Her memories of her real father were few, but she remembered being happy. She was so scared about meeting Odin she couldn't even look into his cold eyes, which showed no sympathy towards his new ward. While things improved and Morgana soon learnt not to be afraid, they never developed the father-daughter relationship she sometimes felt she desperately needed. In the following years Morgana would occasionally have meals in the Hall with the King, which were often dull and tense occasions as if there was constantly a silent battle for control between the two of them. Morgana could tell in those moments that the King had never wanted her as a ward. Following those tense meal times she also remembered all the dull ceremonies she had been forced to attend to in this Hall, and although Morgana had learnt how to avoid boring, political conversations and with the help of Gwen could turn a dull evening into a much more light-hearted one, this time there was no escape.
There were happier memories in this Great Hall though. Morgana re-called childhood moments with Odin's son, who was suspicious of her at first but finally decided to accept Morgana as his sister. They would play in this Hall sometimes, pretending to battle each other with wooden swords or play hide and seek, it was one of the few times Morgana would hear him laugh. He had been a few years older than her, and even though he had not reached manhood he had already felt the pressure weighing down on his shoulders about the responsibilities in his future. Odin depended so much on his only son to become the next King and give his Kingdom glory he kept fierce control and protection over him. Morgana thought that Odin cared more about his honour and the future of his Kingdom than his son, until he was killed in a duel that he felt forced into. When Odin was told his son was dead he didn't speak for weeks and was never the same again. Even now, years later, Morgana could still see the bitter sadness that had been burned into his eyes. Odin never said he blamed himself, but Morgana knew he did, and she couldn't help but blame him too.
The King's ward decided to focus on the patterns on the flags and the details of the tapestries hanging around her, which she noticed were starting to fade and fray around the edges, to avoid talking to any of the people surrounding her.
Unfortunately this evening, it wasn't going to work.
"Morgana!" A harsh, male voice carried through the Hall, she could feel the pins in her hair pulling mercilessly at her scalp as she turned her head and saw Odin standing with who she guessed was a noble, beckoning her towards him. She put on the best fake smile she could as she approached. "Morgana, I would like to introduce you to Lord Kasim," said Odin, "your future husband."
There was suddenly a fierce battle inside Morgana's mind as she tried to keep herself calm, to keep smiling and not show any dread or fear that she felt inside. Instead she put all her concentration into giving her future husband a polite bow.
Lord Kasim was a huge man, over six feet tall. He had brown hair that had been combed and slicked back, unlike his beard, which was a lighter shade of brown and was tangled like the overgrown brambles Morgana could see outside her bedroom window. His eyes were dark and he gave a small smile at the sight of his new wife, which Morgana could tell was fake, she had had plenty of fake smiling practice herself. Kasim wore bright blue robes made of rich material, but Morgana could already tell the calming colour clashed with his personality. He looked his future wife up and down while a blank-faced servant re-filled his goblet with red wine, which he was holding in his right hand.
"A pleasure," he said in a low voice. Morgana held out a hand for him to kiss, she felt his beard scratch at her skin as he did so and tried not to grimace.
Don't judge him yet, Morgana warned herself, he might be nice, he could be a good husband, you just don't know that yet and if not, there could still be a way out.
"The pleasure is all mine," she replied in her sweetest voice possible. She could see out of the corner of her eye Odin was smiling, at least she was doing something right.
Kasim smiled as he continued to observe Morgana's face and figure with his dark eyes. She was already beginning to feel very uncomfortable and had no idea what to say next. What do you say to the man you're being forced to marry?
Fortunately, Odin was on hand to continue the conversation. "Morgana has been looking forward to meeting you ever since I told her the good news, isn't that right, my dear?" He said, emphasising the 'dear'.
Morgana wasn't sure if she could manage to say such a blatant lie, so she smiled and nodded instead. This seemed to satisfy the two men. She had the horrible sensation that she was a cow at a market which two men had just bought and were considering whether she would be any use or if she should go to the butchers.
"I have to admit my Lord I was a little apprehensive at your suggestion of marrying your ward, but now I have met her I feel a little more...confident." Kasim talked slowly, as if he was examining every word closely before he said it. Morgana's jaw was beginning to hurt in her effort to keep her fake smile.
"Well I knew you were looking to marry, and Morgana was in desperate need for a husband. I thought you two would be a good match." Odin said happily.
"Desperate?" Morgana blurted out before she could stop herself.
Odin gave her a warning look, "Well, I thought there was certainly a need for you to get married soon." He said.
"And she's not getting any younger," Kasim added, the two men chuckled in agreement. Morgana could feel her cheeks burning and she couldn't keep up her smile any more.
"In that case, I hope I won't let you down," Morgana said coldly.
There was a pause. Kasim was looking at her carefully, as if trying to work out what her words truly meant. Odin cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, at least you managed to meet before the wedding day, I feel more confident about the marriage now. Unless you have any doubts Lord Kasim, shall we keep the date for next week?"
Morgana was amazed she was still standing as the King's words hit her like a stampeding horse. "Next, next week?" She stuttered, her face drained of colour.
Odin and Kasim looked at each other as if they couldn't understand why she was looking so upset and shocked. "Yes, Lord Kasim will soon be going on campaign and we agreed it would be best if you married before he went away, didn't I tell you?" Odin asked.
"No, you didn't." Morgana growled. She had never felt so angry in her life.
Kasim raised an eyebrow, "You should not talk to your King like that, my Lady," he said.
"Forgive me," Morgana snapped, all facade forgotten. "I was merely surprised the wedding was so soon. Excuse me, my Lords, I am feeling unwell, I think I should return to my chamber." And she turned to leave.
"You can't leave Morgana, you haven't even eaten!" Odin pointed out.
"I'm not hungry," Morgana said, not caring how bitter she sounded, as for the second time in two days she stormed out the Great Hall.
For the past twenty four hours she had tied to convince herself she could find a way out of this, or it at least wouldn't be as bad as she feared, but she was wrong. Her hands were chained and there was no escape from her future, which was now just a week away.
