A/N - Hi, guys. I am so glad I've started back this fic and still got your support after so long. It makes me so happy :D I'm glad I've started writing this again because I have some fresh ideas and I can't wait to write them. So, here's the next chapter. Please review Enjoy x
The Prisoners
Morgana submerged herself in the hot water. Her tense muscles relaxed in the heat and the sting of the sores on her wrists began to ease. Morgause had assigned maids to her and they busied around her, washing her hair and rubbing scents in it and scrubbing her skin until it was a faint pink colour. She squirmed under their scrutiny but eventually they allowed her to get out of the bath.
As the maids silently dressed her up in a blood red gown with black silk underskirts and brushed her hair, pinning it up in an up do, Morgana wondered why Morgause even cared what she looked like. She hated being treated like a doll; shown to the world and then forgotten about until the next appearance. Uther had treated her like one all her life.
There was a sharp rap on the door which grew more incessant each time. Morgana glanced to the maids who were standing in a perfectly straight line showing no sign of moving. I guess I'll answer it then, thought Morgana as she walked with all the elegance of a queen and opened the door.
"My lady, her majesty, Queen Morgause requests your presence urgently on a matter of great important," said the guard, emotionlessly.
Morgana sighed quietly and followed them to the throne room, almost laughing at the irony of being called by her former title. She wondered if their immortality had replaced their brains with nothing but Morgause's commands or if they were just doing the job they had been forced to do; bound to Morgause's will much like she was now. The thought that she'd had a major part in these twisted plans sickened her to her stomach. She was half glad that Morgause had betrayed her and in a way, unblinkered her. Her thoughts soon turned to murderous ones of revenge which was not good, not good at all. She was not going to be that person anymore, no matter what happened.
By the time they reached the throne room, the vengeful thoughts had subsided somewhat but pure hate and raw anger soon begun to course through her veins and she couldn't shift it no matter how hard she tried as the doors were pulled open to reveal the golden-haired queen complete with a malevolent smirk which quickly faded.
"Sister," said Morgause in a strangely soft voice which instantly unnerved Morgana "I'm glad you could join us."
"Your majesty," responded Morgana, succeeding at being docile as she dropped into a curtsy even though scathing remarks burned on her tongue.
"How have you fared, dear sister?"
"Very well, thank you, your grace."
"I am pleased, sister," said Morgause with what appeared to be a genuine smile.
Morgana only nodded her head, afraid that if she opened her mouth, then the onslaught of verbal abuse would spew out and her head would be on a stick by the end of the day. She was never able to read Morgause, especially now. She was two-faced with a heart cold as stone. With dismay, Morgana realised that that was exactly was she had been before Morgause had turned on her.
"Come, sit with me," ordered Morgause.
Morgana had no clue what game the new queen was playing. There was something going on but she had no idea what. Morgause was clever and very cunning. Although it repulsed her, she forced her legs to move forward and she sat on the mini-throne slightly behind Morgause's. She knew the price of defiance all too well and had no wish to suffer her sister's wrath again. Fortunately, she was an admirable actress due to her year of lies and deceit as she played the doting ward. At least one good thing had come from the time she'd much rather forget.
"My people, we have news that brings me great happiness," declared Morgause.
"What?" asked Morgana before she snapped her mouth closed, realising what she'd done.
Old habits die hard, she thought. It seemed that her years in Uther's court were to stay with her forever, no matter how hard she tried to banish them. Those actions were going to be her downfall with Morgause as the ruling monarch.
"Morgana, I am not Uther Pendragon. You do not interrupt me. This is your only warning," stated Morgause, icily, all traces of a loving woman gone completely.
"Sorry," mumbled Morgana.
"I will not be mocked by anyone. You are far too outspoken. You will learn to hold your tongue and you will learn quickly or I shall teach you. From now on you do not speak without my permission."
That seemed to be the matter over with and Morgana released a breath she had no idea she'd been holding. But her heart started pounding when Morgause next spoke.
"Bring in the prisoners."
The guards who stood awaiting her command bowed low before they opened the heavy wooden doors. An entourage of Morgause's knights entered, dragging a struggling Arthur and a tearful Gwen. They were unceremoniously thrown in front of the throne, iron manacles binding their wrists, rendering them immobile.
"Well, well, well, the mighty Arthur Pendragon and his beloved Guinevere," mocked Morgause.
There were jeers from the immortal army crammed into the room and Morgause smirked. Morgana felt nothing more than hate for her sister at that minute; more than she'd ever felt before. It was stronger than her hate for Uther had been and that was saying something. She was toying with the idea of leaping forward and strangling Morgause with her bare hands then and there, but the chances of her succeeding were very slim especially with the blood guard surrounding them.
All of a sudden, Arthur made eye contact with her and the look he gave her was so cold, so hard, so unforgiving. She felt her heart shatter. She had once looked upon him as one of her closest friends since childhood. He'd welcomed her to Camelot, he'd taught her sword-fighting when no-one else would, he'd protected her from Uther's wrath on multiple occasions when she had gotten too caught up in an argument, he'd comforted her through her ailments and the most terrifying of her nightmares. And she'd repaid him by trying to murder him and take the throne. In the cold light of the day, her actions were the worst possible treason. But that thought still didn't stop her from almost letting the tears fall that her brother truly hated her. He didn't know she'd changed and he probably never would. Still, at least she knew what he felt. Gwen kept her eyes cast downwards, refusing to look at her. It was like she didn't know she was there.
"Morgause," stated Arthur, coldly.
"Oh, don't be like that. You couldn't seriously expect to hide forever," purred Morgause.
Arthur leapt up and lunged for Morgause who stepped backwards and extended her hand. He went flying backwards and landed on the stone floor with a sickening crack. Gwen immediately tried to shove the guards off her, her lover's predicament animating her as she screamed and lashed out violently; scratching and biting at the guards.
"Gwen, please, calm down," pleaded Morgana, taken aback by the outburst and forgetting where she was.
The young maid was still thrashing around wildly and landed a solid blow on one of the guards, causing blood to flow from his nose. He instantly retaliated by backhanding Gwen which shocked her momentarily although she keep thrashing about.
Morgana's old habits came back to her as she propelled herself off her chair, slipping away from the blood guards as she rushed to Gwen. She put her hands on her shoulders in a desperate attempt to calm her. The knight the usually docile girl had attacked moved to hit her again but Morgana stood up and punched him, before kicking him in the groin. He yelled in anger as he lay sprawled on the ground, cursing loudly and swearing to have his revenge. It seems Morgause didn't control them completely, then.
"Enough," screamed Morgause in a blind rage now.
The throne room instantly fell silent and Morgana felt the eyes burning into her back as she held a shaken Gwen. She smiled slightly as her former friend relaxed into her embrace instead of fighting her off. But maybe it was the grief and worry for Arthur that blinded her to who it was she was seeking solace in.
"Morgana, come her right now."
The way she spoke to her made Morgana feel like a child as she straightened herself and fixed her skirts before walking back to her place. Morgause's face was contorted in rage and she practically had lightning shooting from her.
"Take the prisoners to the dungeons," ordered Morgause "Immediately!"
Morgana wasn't sure if it was just her imagination or a trick of the light, but she was sure she could see a hint of pity in Gwen's eyes as she was dragged away – pity for her. It was now she realised that she had instinctively protected Gwen, and maybe Gwen would forgive her sins.
Morgause's sharp voice cut through her voice but she refused to part with the hope and memories of the days when she was loved and befriended. She was jolted from the dream as Morgause grabbed her wrist. Before she could do or say anything, Morgause was whispering a string of words in the old tongue and Morgana felt her legs turn to water. She felt herself falling and then the cold stone below her as she cracked her head. White dots danced behind her eyes before the world went black.
A/N - I have updated my other fic What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger twice if you could check it out and maybe review. No-one reviewed it since I started back and I don't know if it's worth continuing it :D
