"Old Habits Die Hard" (Rose)
While Merlin is away, I do keep an extra eye out for anything inconspicuous, especially concerning Morgana. I am venturing about the halls of the castle, which feel much emptier in the boys' absence when I see Gwen approaching. She smiles and I give her a wave before our paths cross. "Guinevere," I smile at her, and she grants me a hug. "How are you this fine night?" I ask because I know she must be missing Arthur, whether she admits it outright or not.
"I'm alright, thank you, but," she bites her lip, "Never mind. I suppose I shouldn't say anything."
"No, please," I grasp her wrist gently, "You can tell me anything. I won't repeat it if you don't want me to."
"Oh, alright," she eases up, "It's just that Morgana has been acting strangely as it is lately, but tonight especially."
"Is she ill?"
"No, not at all," she shakes her head with a look of thoughtfulness, "If I may say so ... She was behaving as if she had something to hide, but it's not my place to say such things of the Lady Morgana," she stumbles, "Please, forgive me."
"Gwen," I place my hand on her shoulders, "You've said nothing wrong, believe me. I'll be sure to check on her, but don't worry, I won't speak to her of any of this. It'll be our secret."
"Thank you," she tucks her lips between her teeth, then gradually releases them into a small and tight smile.
"Don't mention it."
We part thereafter and I await any signs of Morgana's appearance in the less used walkways of the castle. When the sun has set, and the gates are still open, I see the hooded figure of a woman headed for the outskirts of the city. I do not miss a beat in going after her.
Her path takes us into the woods, and I realize that I am being Merlin-y. I would say, "Old habits die hard", but this has never been my habit- it's his. At least, he has taught me a thing or two about having a handle on threats.
I keep a fair distance between us and trek ahead when she begins to slow her pace. She halts in a very secluded area in the thick of the forest and peeks around. I presume she is meeting someone here.
Sure enough, a blonde woman I have never seen before comes up behind Morgana, startling her when she turns around. I zone in on only them and close out the world otherwise.
The blonde woman grabs Morgana's hand, "You look well," she smiles.
"Thanks to you," Morgana replies, also with a smile. "I wear it all the time," she strokes the bracelet that possesses the marks of healing on it, "I can't remember when I last had a bad dream." There is some sort of unspoken bond between the two, stronger than any mere gift of a medicinal purpose.
"But you do not seem happy," the blonde states, "Why is that?"
"I would be," Morgana admits, "If I didn't have to pretend."
"Pretend?"
"That I am Uther's loving ward," she answers coldly, "when I hate him."
The blonde-haired woman begins to step around the Lady, "Have you ever imagined a new world, Morgana? One where Uther was no more?" She turns to face her.
"Sometimes," she says quietly.
"And is that what you'd like?" her chocolate brown eyes bore into the other woman's soul.
"I once had the chance to be his assassin," Morgana clarifies.
"And what stopped you?" the other raises her chin in question.
"I don't know," Morgana falters, "I believe he cared for me," her expression hardens. "But not anymore. He cares for no one."
"So you want Uther destroyed and his reign to end?" she pushes gently, which is enough for Morgana.
"More than anything," she confesses freely, "But it doesn't matter what I want. The future's not of my making."
"You are wrong, Morgana," the woman grins mischievously, "You underestimate your importance. The decisions you make now will change the shape of everything that is to come," she walks around once more.
"What do you mean?" Morgana asks in a smaller voice.
"Whose side are you on, Morgana?" she presses, "Are you with Uther, or are you with me?" Morgana doesn't answer straightaway. "Are you prepared to help me bring about his downfall?"
Morgana's countenance tightens, "I am."
The other woman steps forward and lay a soft hand on Morgana's cheek, "I can't tell you how much it means to hear you say that." The current thought of my own is surrounding the identity of this woman. Who is she and why is she so interested in bringing down the king of Camelot?
Then the unthinkable happens- her eyes turn gold, and Morgana begins to sway where she stands, before falling to the ground. The woman lays her back, and begins to walk around her with a large branch in hand, chanting a magical incantation. I gasp, and break away from the scene, needing to return to Camelot prior to the gates shutting, but I fear I may be too late.
My racing heart is just about to burst into pieces when I dash towards the city walls just in time to see the gates attempting to shut me out. I run with all the strength and speed that is within me, feeling a surge of power course through my veins. I make it not one second too soon, slipping through as the doors to the courtyard close behind me. I smile awkwardly at the guards and try my hardest to appear casual.
Poor Gaius has fallen asleep at once of his worktables, facing the door, waiting for me to return I make no doubt of it. Guilt overtakes me as I realize I should have alerted him somehow, with at least a note of some sort. "I'm sorry," I whisper and drape his blanket over back, anchored on his shoulders. I decide that I will wait until morning to inform him of what I have seen this night.
"The Story of My Life" (Merlin)
As we approach the castle, which seems to be ready to crumble and fall apart any second, I conclude that the story of my life is turning out to be extremely different from anything I've ever imagined. When I picture some future, even in recent days, something winds up turning my idea upside down. I decide that I probably shouldn't do that anymore, simply live, and let live. When you don't expect, you're not disappointed- easy as that. But it isn't easy to overcome either.
It is clear that nothing is easy anymore, as we enter into what used to be the grand courtyard of the palace. We do not tread lightly. The knights remain in a standard battle formation, and I do what I always do and stick by Arthur. Something reaches my ear. "What's that noise?" I ask hurriedly.
"What noise?" the prince wants further detail.
"A sort of trembling sound," I tell him.
"That's your knees knocking together," he states in a bored voice. I ignore his comment and keep moving forward. What else can I do? I certainly can't give him a swift kick in the rear like I really want to. I sigh to myself. Such is life.