Morgana lounged on a satin chair, shoveling parsnip and carrot soup into her mouth in a most unladylike fashion.
Elaine stared at her, a slightly bewildered look in her eyes.
Morgana rolled her eyes. " What? I was unconcious for five days. I'm hungry. " She said between mouthfuls of soup.
Elaine nodded.
"Do you have any more of those delicious little breads? Morgana asked, her eyes scanning the table wildly.
"Not now. We have business to discuss," Elaine said curtly.
The serving boy offered her a bowl of berries in all colours. Morgana took it with her as she followed Elaine.
"Boy! Get us both some hot ginger milk," Elaine ordered.
The boy scurried away.
"He has no name?" Morgana bit into a emerald green berry.
"I'm sure he does, but he has never told us of it," Elaine said, gesturing to a chair, "Now sit."
"So what now? Another attack on Camelot?" Morgana asked through as she shoved blue and pink berries into her mouth.
Elaine grabbed Morganas shoulders and shook her. "Are you mad? Your ragtag army is decimated. Camelot is stronger than ever. It is fortified in good magic. It has many allies. You would be butchered at the gates. It has not been a week and yet you already wish to strike again? Are you stupid!?"
Morgana stood up. "It is rightfully mine!"
"Dearest sister, have sense! Do you think the people of Camelot want their kind king or a bitchy queen who has caused more terror than they have ever experienced before in their lives?"
"Did you just call me a bitch!?" Morgana shrieked.
"I did. And rightfully so. Perhaps Morgause supported you fully, but I do not. She was wrong. She was power hungry and needed you for her various alliances. You were being used," Elaine retorted.
"Don't talk about her like that!" Morgana snapped. "She was a better sister than you!"
"Perhaps you think so now, but in time you may see I am the rational one!" Elaine declared. "Now, let me get you something nice to wear. Those rags suit neither a Pendragon nor a High Priestess!"
Morgana didn't want to know what outfit she had in mind. Her days of pretty princess gowns were over. Anyways she quite liked her "rags". They reminded her of who she was. A warrior fighting for her birthright.
Elaine came back, a white dress in her hands. "Took many hours to make. My ladies started it when you first arrived."
Pure White. Seriously? She wasn't some kind of Angel. Couldn't it have at least been a shade of cream? Cream would have been decent. The dress reminded her of the one she had worn when she took over Camelot. Or had tried to. Well the first time. Perhaps it was a bad omen. Her reign had lasted a week.
"Er, thank you," Morgana said, taking the fine dress.
"You hate it. Don't lie." Elaine said.
"It is just..." Morgana started.
"It reminds you of your failed reign," Elaine declared.
"How do you know?" snapped Morgana.
"I read facial expressions easily," Elaine said, "Perhaps this time it will bring good luck."
After bathing and dressing, Morgana had to admit she did love her finery. Elaine seemed pleased too. Though she was not like Morgause, she seemed nice, and devoted to Morgana's cause in a way...
The thing that irked Morgana though was that Elaine seemed not afraid of her.
When Morgana attempted to use her powers though, she discovered why. Nothing was working. Or just backfiring. She was still fatigued, so tried some light dark magic: trying to kill a plant. Instead it grew a foot and bloomed giant purple and pink flowers and blue butterflies emerged from the blossoms. Morgana scowled. Once such beauty delighted her, but now the sight of the flowers and butterflies disgusted her. What horrified her more was her lack of powers. Elaine said she was just still weak. Morgana did not think so. Something was binding, controlling her powers and whatever, whoever, she dared to think, was stronger than her.
The realization struck her during dinner. She shot up out of her seat, sending soup flying onto a young girl. Morgana didn't apologize. "Damn it! It is Emrys! But how on earth? He lives near Camelot! Damn it. Damn Emrys. How dare he do this? Goddess be damned!"
The girl covered in a layer of boiling soup shouted, "Do not speak curses of the goddess!"
"I will damn well do as I please. I am equal in power to the goddess. I am the last surviving high priestess!" Morgana yelled, and continued in a flurry of curses as she walked out of the room, "Fuck you Emrys!"