If It Turns To Chaos

Chapter Ten.

'I'd like to propose a toast,' Arthur called out, gaining silence from the full and merry hall. He stood, raising his goblet. 'To my sister.' He turned and looked down at her, and Morgana couldn't help but smile back. 'I can't begin to tell you how much it means to have you back. I know I am not the only one who has felt your loss these last few years,' he said reaching for Gwen's hand. He looked back out over the hall. 'The Lady Morgana!' and they all echoed.

'This really wasn't necessary Arthur,' she told him after a while of watching lords and ladies and knights all mingle together.

'No,' he agreed. 'But I think we all deserve a party, don't you?' Well, she couldn't rebut that.

Suddenly there was a bang, the large doors flying open. She wore her signature blood-red dress, the colour of the high priestesses, deeper than the scarlet cloaks of the knights, and strode slowly towards where Morgana now stood before the King's table, Arthur and Gwen at her side, as if there was all the time in the world. Morgana stared solemnly at her sister. She could feel everyone in the room tense, and gravitate slightly towards them. She could feel Arthur's hand on her wrist.

'Quite the party sister,' Morgause cooed, looking around.

'What do you want?' Morgana asked sharply, moving to step forward, but Arthur's hand held her back.

'Morgana,' he murmured warningly.

'This is no concern of yours, Arthur Pendragon.' Morgause snapped at him. 'Give me my sister and I'll leave your little festivities in peace.'

This time the knights didn't just gravitate; they all but lurched towards the gap between Morgana and Morgause, each of them placing themselves in the way.

'You forget,' Arthur replied evenly. 'She is also my sister.'

Morgause's face darkened at that.

'Morgause, Arthur has abolished the laws against magic in Camelot. There is nothing left to be accomplished by your vendetta.'

'There is still a price to pay. The thousands dead in years past, the relentless persecution and near extinction of our kind! How can you forgive that? Changing the law now does not undo the wrongs we have suffered.'

'Neither will killing Arthur for the crimes of his father.'

'You naïve little girl,' Morgause spat, advancing fearlessly through the knights and towards Morgana. 'You really think he is any different from Uther?'

'He has already proved himself to be so.' In her periphery she could see Gwaine at her side, hand grasping the hilt of his sword. 'You stand in a room full of the finest of Camelot's knights. Even with magic you cannot defeat them all. Stay and fight. Or leave unharmed.' Morgause stopped still, and for a moment seemed indecisive. 'You cannot win here,' Morgana pressed softly.

A vicious grin curled Morgause's lips, and in a heartbeat she had drawn a long and deadly dagger and levelled it not at Morgana, but at Mordred's throat.

'You think I do not know all your weaknesses sister?' she taunted gleefully, circling Mordred until she had him in a vicelike grip, her blade biting into his flesh. Morgana started forward, but then obeyed the hand on her shoulder, fearful of what should happen if she approached.

'Mordred, the little druid boy,' Morgause laughed. 'All grown up now isn't he? You put such faith and love in him, Morgana. And how did he repay you? Stabbing you in the back. But if the reward is a Camelot knighthood, well who wouldn't betray their friends?'

'That wasn't me.'

'Details. He thought it was you, so does it really make a difference? Yet I can see even now you're willing to sacrifice yourself for him. So go ahead Morgana. Quickly though, I'd hate for my hand to slip.' For emphasis Morgause dragged the dagged a little across Mordred's neck, causing him to hiss in pain and blood to bead along the thin wound.

'Stop!' Morgana cried, shaking off Arthur and Gwaine's grips on her and stumbling forward.

'Too easy,' Morgause smirked.

'My lady, please don't do this.' Mordred warned, gasping as Morgause tugged him back. Morgana shook her head, eye's filled with tears. 'Morgana…'

'I'm sorry Mordred,' she whispered, wiping away the tears before they could fall and drawing herself up with all the grace and dignity she had.

'Morgana! Morgana don't!' Mordred struggled furiously against Morgause, heedless of her blade.

'Let him go,' Morgana calmly moved towards her sister. 'Just let him go and take me instead.' But in comparison to Morgana's calmness, everyone else was frantic. Morgause's sinister smile grew. With one hand she reached for Morgana.

'Gwaine,' Mordred shouted desperately. 'Gwaine stop her!'

But too late. Morgause's hand closed around her sister's arm and she pushed Mordred away, pulling Morgana into his place, knife now at her neck. 'See? I keep my word.'

'For once,' Morgana replied disgustedly.

'If you all want your darling princess to live through this night, I suggest you do not prevent us from leaving.' No one moved, all eyeing the dagger at Morgana's throat warily, hands grasped hilts with taut white knuckles but no swords were drawn, faces twisted in frustration and defeat. 'See how important you are to them?' Morgause whispered harshly in Morgana's ear. 'They couldn't bear to see you hurt. They love you. Which will make this all the sweeter when I turn you against them again.'

Morgana was being pulled out the hall, the knife at her throat preventing anyone from trying to help her. Once out of their sight, she began to struggle herself. 'You think I'm just going to let you use me again?' Morgana's magic burned through her palm, scalding them both where she tried to pull Morgause arm away from her neck. They had made it several corridors away from the hall; Morgana could hear the clamour of knights following them, trying to find them, defiant of Morgause's warning. Despite herself, Morgana smiled.

When the burning pain of Morgause's arm became too much, she flung Morgana away, sending her into the stone wall. Her palm already welted and blistered, like the red handprint left on Morgause. She knew she should get up and take the opportunity to run, but dazed and gritting her teeth in pain all she could do was brace herself against the blow Morgause aimed at her stomach.

Her attention almost monopolised by her searing palm, Morgause kick managed to result in nothing to Morgana but a dull thud. It also caused her not to notice the figure approaching until he stood right behind Morgause. Long white hair and beard, long red robe, but it was the fierce look in his eyes that Morgana had never forgotten. Unsure of whom to cower from first, and already pressed against the wall, she looked up at them with wide eyes.

Emrys had found them.

She had feared him, she had dreamt of him. The man who was supposed to be her end. Was he here to kill her now? Was he the only one who could not forgive her for what Morgause had made her do? She watched Morgause turn to him, a snarl on her face, but only to be met with the old sorcerer's sneer.

'Leave her be, witch,' he commanded, a deep authoritative tone she had never heard from him before, not even in her dreams. It sent chills through her.

Before Morgause could so much as raise her hand to retaliate, he sent her careening back. It was not hard to see who would ultimately win, and Morgause was not stupid. Hate and fury lining her features, the second she sat up she disappeared in smoke, unwilling to risk her life against the wizard.

Morgana had not moved. Staring at Emrys as Arthur and his knights rounded the corner; upon seeing Emrys they froze too. He held out a hand for her and she flinched, but he did not retract it. In a soft voice, aged and rasping as though he were any old man – another tone she had not ever heard from him – he said, 'I'm not here to hurt you.' Warily she took his hand and let him help her up, though her body tensed ready to run from him. 'It seems I am not your doom after all, Morgana Le Fay.'

And that confused her, but with a quirk of his lips Emrys was moving hastily down the corridor while Arthur came back to he senses, shouting 'You!'

Emrys didn't turn, but Morgana stepped in front of her brother, hand reaching for his shoulder to reassure him. 'Arthur, stop.' Turning and gazing at the retreating man she murmured, 'He saved me,' her voice laced with awe and disbelief.

It seemed Arthur was happy to forget him, hand coming up to her cheek to survey her cuts and quickly forming bruises. 'Let get you to Gaius.'