A/N: Only 5 chapters to go and they'll come up quicker now.
The tradition of death on The Isle was to send the body off in a small wooden boat, shaped like a fish in profile, full of straw and twigs, with the loved one laid out on top facing the sky. Once the boat was well out into the lake, the boat was lit on fire becoming a pyre. A flaming arrow sparked the blaze, and was wielded by a capable archer, usually a family member. Morgause, unsurprisingly, was bestowed the honor. The entire Isle were assembled, but it was silent and somber, which wasn't their way. Oftentimes, the elders would recall fond memories of the person passing between the veils. Not this time. Most were shocked and incensed by what had happened. There were no words. Bodies became ashes and dust, giving them to the earth, fire, wind and water. That is the way of the Goddess, Morgana reminded herself. Of course, Morgause didn't need more than a single bolt. Morgana held her afterwards as they watched Ninianne's flesh turn to ashes and be swallowed by the lake. They both still seared in their anger at the injustice of it all.
Immediately after the throne room, Morgana had receded to that feeling she had when she knew Uther might discover her secret any moment, that everyone was potentially someone who might want to hurt her. That Greater Camelot under Arthur wasn't so different from Camelot under Uther after all.
And then the guilt had set in. Morgana was alive, when one as powerful and wise and important to the cause as Ninianne was no longer on this plane. The trade of lives was completely inadequate. That day in the throne room had changed her, irreparably she feared. She felt a hardness within her, like her hatred had frozen solid in her chest. There was no comfort.
As her mentor and friend's body burned, a young bard with a beautiful voice sang an old song of the bravery of heroes long lost but never forgotten. Their deeds live on and inspire the future heroes. Ninianne was very fond of music, many people had recollected.
Morgana recalled the first time she met Ninianne. She was in the healer's house, with its low thatched roof, lying on a narrow bed that felt very hard to her. Her vision was blurred and she felt awful. Morgana had focused long enough to realize a grey-haired woman was standing still by her side.
"I've been waiting a long time to make your acquaintance," The older woman had said.
Morgana was too dazed to say anything.
"I'm your Great Aunt, Ninianne," She replied, "Have you heard of me, child?"
Morgana shook for no. She could barely remember her mother anymore, it seemed unrealistic that she'd know anything of her mother's family that she had never met. Where am I anyway? she had thought. And then she had remembered, the sleeping spell, the wineskin and Merlin holding her as she tried in vain to breathe, willing her sister to somehow save her.
She didn't need to ask the question, Ninianne was already answering her, "You are on The Isle of Mists."
Morgana shook her head, not understanding.
Ninianne looked annoyed for a moment, "Your mother is from here, have you never heard of this place?"
Morgana motioned 'no', again.
Ninianne's hand came under her chin, lifting Morgana's gaze to her cool blue stare, "Morgause tells me you have the sight."
Morgana wasn't sure how much she should say.
"Morgause saved your life Morgana, you are in no danger here," The kind woman reassured her, "We are ourselves, sorcerers."
Morgana tried to talk, realizing her throat was burning. The older woman held a skin of water to her lips. It hurt, but she drank.
Morgana tried to speak again, "Are we safe? Won't Uther come for you? Did the spell work…is he…"
Ninianne's face showed something Morgana couldn't place at the time, "It is Uther who must now worry that we are coming for him," She proclaimed proudly.
Morgana was too dazed to express any joy at the notion, since she was still not sure she wanted to trust this woman. Had she and Morgause been caught? Was this a trick played by Uther to get her to confess her deliberate attempt to aid in his death? She didn't know much. She wanted to see Morgause.
The woman in the animal furs, holding the wooden staff with a crystal handle smiled in a self-satisfied manner, "Morgana, I think you just might hold the key to changing the plight of magical people in Camelot."
Morgana had tried to pick the wineskin back up again to soothe her parched throat. She realized to her dismay that she was too weak to even raise her hand. She certainly hadn't felt like a force capable of doing anything for herself let alone anyone else. Ninianne obviously believed it so. Because she had taken Morgana under her wing as soon as she had recovered from Hemlock poisoning. Ninianne had helped her to come to terms with what Uther had done to her, what she was capable of, how she could use her strengths and abilities, and about the sight. What it meant, it's limitations, it's accuracy. And she had needed that so desperately. She was eternally grateful and indebted to Ninianne.
The High Priestess eventually admitted, that that wasn't actually the first time they had met. She had been the 'friend' that had delivered Morgana's mother's crescent moon necklace to her in the wake of her father's death. But Ninianne had glamoured herself as a woman of an age with Vivianne when she had come to Cornwall all those years ago now. She recalled it well, that Morgana had been dressed like a stable boy, sword on skinny hip.
Ninianne said, "You were only ten, so I didn't pay you much mind at the time, but you were full of rage as you said your father's death was Uther's fault."
"I thought it was just a child's frustration at a situation out of her control," She admitted, "Neither of your parents had magic, and without meaning too, I'd assumed you wouldn't have the gift."
Morgana had been surprised by this story, but had remained quiet, to let Ninianne make her point, as she always did so poignantly.
"But my niece came to me in a dream not long after, and told me she believed Uther had left Gorlois in battle without reinforcements on purpose," The older woman had said.
"What else did she say," Morgana had been so curious to know anything of her mother.
"I asked her why he would do that, and she said 'Uther wants Morgana'," Ninianne replied flatly, "I had no idea what that meant at the time, he already had a healthy son and heir," Ninianne had shaken her head sadly, and looked away, "I fear I know all too well now."
Morgana had slunk away from Ninianne's words. She hadn't even told Morgause about Uther, not at that stage. It had made Morgana remember when Mordred had let her know he knew all her deep dark secrets too. You feel naked and ashamed. Ninianne had gently squeezed her wrist, to stop her from shying away.
"You are not to blame, Morgana, not for any of it," The High Priestess had spoken as if it was a command that Morgana must obey, before softening again, and becoming a grandmother figure, "I realized after that dream, that you might have the sight, I started to watch you more closely after that."
"Then you know what Camelot is like? Uther…" Morgana had trailed off, feeling incensed and panicked, "Why did you leave me there?"
Ninianne was unmoved, all she said was, "We all have our own paths to walk."
That had been little comfort to Morgana at the time, who found The Isle to be the sanctuary of her dreams, that she wished she'd known of sooner.
Morgana returned to the present. Had Ninianne foreseen Arthur's changing stance on magic? Well over a year ago? She resolved to make her life worth that sacrifice. She began to repeat the words;
Ninianne was wise. Ninianne always knew what to do. Ninianne knowingly sacrificed herself for me. Make that sacrifice worth it. Lead wisely in her place.
It helped. Morgana seethed as the image of Ninianne pale and blood covered as the life drained out of her would come to her unbidden all the time. Maybe it's the life I carry that's important, the thought suddenly dawned on her, the future king with magic.
But how can this child be the future king now? After everything.
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Morgause had been very initially distressed that her delay in acquiring a sword made Ninianne's death her fault. But she had come to suspect, as had Morgana, when they had talked it out together, that magic had been used against them in court that day. Morgana explained how she had put up her hand and thought, Wind, expecting to feel the jolt and see Aldro fly backwards from her. But he hadn't, for no reason Morgana could understand, suddenly she had no power. Morgause had felt her hand burn with cold when she had tried to pull her sword, but couldn't explain why. She had also tried magic, before resorting to Leon's sword.
Morgana had been told once by Ninianne that seers can never foretell their own demise. Morgana had raged that she had had no warning. What good were her talents if they couldn't alert her to something so dire! With reflection Morgana suspected that the decision to attack her wasn't planned, but a fit of anger on the part of Aldro at the idea of Morgause and Alvarr being knighted and serving a blacksmith's daughter as queen. She believed the hate-filled knight had reached his boiling point and lashed out. Morgana's visions and dreams, she had always believed were warnings, but that she picked up on other people's consciousness, their thoughts and intentions, but split-second decisions rendered her talents useless. It troubled her none the less.
They both had nightmares. Morgana had been frozen in fear in that moment when the blade was about to pierce her chest, knowing there was nothing she could do. In that instant she knew she would die. Then she had watched in horror as that sword went through Ninianne's body. She had witnessed the life drain out of her mentor. The blade had even touched her gown where it had come out of her mentor's back. The blood, and her gasping for breath had been the worst. And that horrible man screaming 'I would do it again!'
Morgause said very little, her eyes were those of one who was tortured. Morgause was reliving that day every time she closed her eyes, over and over. Morgana did her best to help her sister through this dark time, but she felt so empty herself. The night of the send off, they had retreated to the quarters they had shared previously when they had lived on The Isle. They had fallen asleep in one another's arms.
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Morgana was heavily pregnant and wearing a wedding gown, and for some reason standing hand in hand with Arthur in front of the round table before the huge crowd of people about to wed in a Christian ceremony presided over by a priest, Arthur was just putting the Queen's Crown on her head, when Aldro ran towards her, a sword already dripping with blood. Morgause was unable to move, watching on helplessly as the knight cut the growing babe right out of Morgana in front of everyone, but the babe, and then Morgana's bowls toppled onto the stone floor while she somehow remained standing. Aldro wasn't Aldro anymore, he was Uther, who was now bestowing upon Arthur that he had done him a favor, no good would have come of a witch's demon spawn born of incest. Arthur seemed strangely attentive to the advice. Ninianne ran over to object, and Uther lopped her head off and it rolled to Morgause's feet.
This was the point at which her lover awoke screaming and drenched in sweat. Morgana was convinced that she had experienced Morgause's nightmare alongside her sister.
Morgana held her tight, "I saw it too."
Morgause didn't talk about such things though. She didn't know how to put such vulnerability into words. Partially it was grief, and that they were at no risk of discovery, but Morgana had made the first move. A hug, that had turned into a kiss. A touch that was more sensual than pure comfort. They resumed relations, that night in the dark. Morgana felt so guilty knowing that Ninianne had forbidden what they were doing. It was a despicable action given their mentor's death. But the flesh was weak and it helped soothe some of the pain. The situation at Arthur's court had forced them both into abstinence, but the feelings had never gone away. Now, they lost all abandon.
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The practicalities of the new situation took over. The Wise Council had extensively questioned those who were present in court that day; how it had come to happen? Most agreed The Pact must hold, even if what had transpired was disgraceful. The Isle's younger fighters were inclined to call for blood, while the elders tended to call to let it be.
In the coming days the discussion raged about whom would become the new Lady of the Lake. Morgause relayed that it was Ninianne's dying wish that Morgana replace her. But Morgana, compared everyone on the Wise Council, had very little experience. While all agreed she was magically gifted, and getting better all the time, they had years on her. Morgana had only lived on The Isle for a year, and didn't yet possess a proper understanding of the religion, let alone the role of the High Priestess. It would be a difficult path to convince the elders of her suitability.
Ceridwen was put forward as a suitable choice. She was nearly 70, had lived on The Isle her whole life. She had short dark hair, was very petite with sharp features. Ceridwen argued for a soft approach to The Pact. That sorcerers committing violence were to be stopped and turned in by The Isle, lest anything compromise The Pact. She wanted The Isle to lay low, and for Morgause and Alvarr to avoid Arthur's wedding tourney, and accept their new knighthoods meekly. She was for no response to Ninianne's death. A 'turn the other cheek approach', that channeled the very supposedly Christian values, and angered all those whom had been close to the High Priestess.
Caellan was too overcome initially to put forward a course of action, now she argued for forcing Arthur to show he was taking steps to purge his own ranks of disloyal knights. Alvarr in his rage that first night had wanted blood, he wanted them to depart for The Isle immediately, and had had to be talked into calming down. Morgana spoke now to the Wise Counsel very much as she had that first evening to the Islers. She was against such measures, saying that while she was no expert in magic yet, she was an expert on Arthur. He wasn't irrational and wouldn't hold them responsible for the actions of rogue individuals. Any more than they held would him personally responsible for Sir Aldro.
"That doesn't mean we give no response," Morgana warned pointedly, distinguishing her position from Ceridwen's, "I agree with Caellan, that we make demands that he root out the traitors in his midst."
Harwyn had raged, "The man was Arthur's sworn knight, he's high king! It's a disgrace!"
Many that had made up the fighting force that had killed Uther agreed with the man with the crow on his shoulder.
"Arthur already feels that," Morgana responded, "He's is disgraced by association. The wedding tourney is real though, open to everyone, The Isle could conceivably supply more knights to Arthur's court, we should send more of our most able."
Morgause spoke for her cause. Morgana's usefulness in the role couldn't be denied. The simple fact was, that Arthur loved her, and he listened to her. The future of The Pact mostly relied on Arthur's adherence to it, and Morgana was the guarantee. Ceridwen questioned Arthur's regard for her, citing that the high king wasn't marrying her, he was taking a Christian bride instead. It was a very raw wound that Ceridwen was picking at, and it made Morgana want to kill her with a look. Morgana had to take deep breaths and fought to keep her composure, before managing to say that despite Arthur's change of heart, his love for her was very real. She hoped to be convinced of her words, though the truth was she still wasn't sure what had happened and what he felt for her now. Ceridwen seemed to permanently be in disagreement with Ninianne's approach, and by extension those she mentored. There had been bad blood between them, but Morgana didn't know exactly what it was.
In the end a compromise was reached after days of raging debate among the Wise Counsel. Morgana would be the Lady of the Lake, but she would rule from Greater Camelot as Arthur's advisor, the day to day problems of The Isle would be presided over by Ceridwen and she would oversee religious events unless for some reason Morgana was on The Isle. Morgana was surprised, but happy with the decision. Ceridwen, not so much, but she accepted what was offered all the same.