Disclaimer: I do not own any of the people metioned, but really nor did Bradley, so I'll say they belong to the storytellers of the old days.

A/N: Just something random I thought of while reading The Forest House, why this came to me then is unfathomable, but it did.

We did not deserve this. We did not deserve to be broken apart as we were. We were once so close, so very very close, and now we can scarce stand to look at eachother in the eye without shrinking back in either pain, fear, or disgust.

The first crack was the meeting at Tor, all those many years ago. If that had never taken place, than maybe Lancelot and Morgaine would still have a chance. Our futures were not even certain yet, but the moment shared there was enough to cause us tension.

Then there was Beltane, and Arthur's fathering of her child. They thought I did not know, but I knew. Mordred may have looked so very much like my Lance, but he was Arthur's son in every other way imaginable. This crack tore us apart oh so quietly. It was a bubbleing mass just waiting to be lit on fire so it would explode in our faces.

Mordred was that spark, and so the wars began. Morgaine had left us soon after her marriage to Accolon's father, and she never had control over her only child, so the wars were very much expected.

Arthur's dying killed me inside, as did it Morgaine. Lancelot was already so very broken it mattered not to him, but women were always more emotionally tough than men, so we did not break until Arthur left us. He might have been my husband, but he was Morgaine's soulmate. His death was the death of us all, the death of his friends, family, people, and kingdom.

Now I spend my days at a church. I am hidden from the rest of society, I do not suffer the wrath of the rebels who revolt against the true king who I know not the name. Morgaine also hides away in Avalon, where she is Lady of the Lake. And Lancelot is hidden in a church some fifty miles off from here, near Glastonbury.

I was once so very strong-willed in my Catholic beliefs, but now it doesn't matter. I know now that if God and his blessed mother truly do exist, than all of us in the royal family are damned to Hell. If it is truly the Goddess who controls our lives like Morgaine believes, well than atleast I will not be severly punished.

I once turned from Morgaine because she was something I could not understand. Morgaine was a powerful woman that hid from her pain and sorrows, yet embraced them all the same. I, on the other hand, was weak and shattered by my pain every single day. If Morgaine ever returned, I would welcome her with open arms and embrace her with the love of the sister I once was to her.

There is a knock at the door and the younger nuns come to get me. I am told it is my dear Morgaine. I run to the door and embrace her with the tenderness of a sister. I may have once hated her, but she is all I have left of a past-life.

And I am all that is left for her.