Chapter Eleven

A/N: No reviewers.

As he reached the doors to the throne room, Arthur leant briefly against the wood, bracing himself for the sight that he was about to see. His mind was still struggling to comprehend the scenario that was playing out before his eyes, his heart refusing to believe that Guinevere's statement had been the truth, and in truth, he was certain that he was not ready to face the trial awaiting him. But this could not be helped. He had to say his goodbyes.

And so the man had persevered, striding forward through the near deserted hall, but despite the confidence he had attempted to instill in himself, the moment he caught sight of the plinth raised in the middle of the darkened room, he stopped dead in his tracks. Even from this distance, he could see her as clearly as the moonlight.

She remained beautiful, even in death. Her hair was brushed out around her shoulders, threaded with small white rosebuds, and she held full blooms in her cold, pale hands. She wore a simple gown of crimson, trimmed with golden thread, and this gave Arthur a little happiness. If she was draped in the Pendragon colours, this meant that their father had finally acknowledged Morgana publically as his child. Even if it was a little late to have done so, Uther had accepted her.

The prince had not known he was walking until he was only a few feet from the plinth itself. He must have unconsciously moved closer to his sister, to search for signs of life, to fight, to cry, or just to say goodbye to her. Taking another step forward, the man found himself parallel to his father, who was attempting to blink away the tears in his eyes, not wanting to show weakness in front of his son and heir. He understood, of course, his father's wish to be strong, and wished to replicate it, for them to be strong together. But however much he tried to fight them, the tears came, and once the floodgates were opened, Arthur could no longer stop the water from flowing.

Much to his own surprise, the king moved further towards his son, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling the man's head to his own shoulder. Too shocked to do otherwise, Arthur merely went along with what his father was doing. Over the years, Uther seemed to have saved the physical side of his relationship with the two of them for Morgana. When his younger sister had cried, he had held her, if she would let him, that is, but when he had done so, he had received a sympathetic glance at the most in the majority of situations. 'He has already lost one of his children, the youngest and his only daughter.' the prince told himself, by way of an explanation for this strange occurrence. 'Why should I be surprised that he now wants to keep himself as close to his other child as possible, while the other lies dead a few feet in front of him?'

As the tears continued to fall, the blonde threw his arms around his father, holding him tightly as a sob escaped his throat. The monarch held his son in return, and the younger swore that he could feel tears wetting the edge of his hair, hear a pained cry come from the other's mouth, though he tried desperately to hide it. That day had caused them both so much pain, and it was only then that they had realised they needed to be a family in order to get through the loss of their sister and daughter.

"I should have protected her." Arthur said, unable to stop himself from confessing the guilt he felt. His father immediately held him tighter, shaking his head in regret.

"No, Arthur, you cannot think that." he sighed, as the pair broke apart slightly, their solemn gazes resting on the young woman lying before them. "I am her father. It was my charge to protect her, and it is only I who has failed in that respect. She took that bolt for me, and so you should have no guilt about it. There is nothing that you could have done to save her."

"There was." the blonde admitted, and seeing Uther's mouth open to dispute this, he continued as quickly as possible, cutting across what he assumed was going to be a denial of this. "I should have got here faster. There was a necklace, on the Isle of the Blessed. Gaius told me that High Priestesses of the Old Religion would often split the life force of their children, and hide a piece of it in an amulet. So I went to find it, but Morgause was there, I had to fight her for it, she was using it to control Morgana all this time, and so she obviously didn't want to let it go. But I shouldn't have spoken to her at all, I should have just found the amulet and left. Maybe then I would have been soon enough to save her."

"Do you have this amulet?" the king questioned, and his son nodded his head, reaching into a pouch on his belt and handing the delicate necklace to his father. He noted that it no longer glowed, as it had done when he had first taken it, and recalled Morgause's words as to why this was. That was something that they knew well enough, but to see it confirmed was awful.

"Find peace, Morgana. I will always love you." Uther sighed, carefully placing the amulet around his daughter's neck, then placing a brief kiss on her forehead. When he had stepped backwards, beginning to leave the room, so that the young woman could receive the final preparations for her funeral, Arthur did the same, lingering a little longer as he realised that this would truly be the last time he would say goodbye to his sister.

"I love you, Morgana, and I always will. Whenever I hold a sword, ride a horse, have an argument… I know that you will be there with me. Goodbye, Ana, I'll miss you."

And with those words, the young man bowed his head, then made for the door, meeting his father just a few paces from the exit. The room was as silent as a crypt, which, he supposed, was what it had become that day. This made it more than a little easier to hear the tapping sound, one, twice, thrice on the wood of the floor. In unison, the pair of men turned, and it was in unison that they sighed in disbelief.

The sound, they discovered, had come from a pair of high heeled shoes, which were placed on the floor, holding the weight of the woman stood before them. They could not believe their eyes, and yet they so wanted to.

Stood before them was Morgana.

A/N: This story is almost done, unfortunately. Please review!