Thanks for the idea to focus on the relationship between Morgana and Aithusa!
Morgana caressed her little friend- who, by the way, wasn't small anymore. Aithusa answered by putting her head on her lap and watched her friend with such big eyes. The dragoness had grown a lot. She'd become pretty heavy and holding her wasn't as easy as it used to be. Yet Morgana was happy to see her so healthy and plumpy.
All those years, Aithusa had been her only support. The witch had found her shortly after Morgana had to say good-bye to Morgause and since then they'd been inseparable. Eventually, the dragoness had learnt to speak, among other things such as playing with kids, begging for attention, stealing food (although, Morgana, as well as the entire village, had always made sure Aithusa had enough food, though, they hadn't known she liked cookies).
They'd soon found a small village which eventually became their home. At first, they'd looked for a shelter for the night, but they were surprised to see how opened the people were despite being so few and so poor. Surprisingly, they weren't afraid of magic. The village was quite remote from the so called civilization of Albion's kingdoms and so they'd grown up listening to stories about dragons and magic creatures. For the first time, Morgana had the chance to use her magic to help others while Aithusa had the chance to get close to the people. They helped with the harvest and the hunting and the village thrived in just few years. People from other villages came there in order to have Morgana treat their illness or to get her to their own village to cure the people. Every month, she would travel great distances to see sick people that needed her help. As Aithusa was a grown-up already, she would usually take Morgan on her back so the distances wouldn't be so great. Every year, Morgana would go back to Camlan to pay tribute to the boy that had meant everything to her, but who she'd sentenced to death because of her ego.
All those years she hadn't managed to forget Merlin no matter how hard she'd tried. Yet, he was always in her dreams and she'd learnt to enjoy this little pleasure. As time passed, she'd got to remember only the good parts and no matter how much it hurt not having him there, his memory had always bring her a smile.
Merlin watched them from distance. Helen/ Nimueh -or whatever her name was- hadn't lied. He didn't understand her reasons, but for now he was happy that it had ended like that. He just wanted to believe that she was sick of that hatred- though, experience had taught him otherwise...
All those years he'd waited nothing but to see Morgana and Aithusa again. So, he couldn't stay there for long. Excited and with a wide smile on his face he climbed down the hills towards the little meadow where the two were. The first to notice him was Aithusa, who, happy as she was, flow directly to him, forgetting to take Morgana with her.
Morgana didn't notice who he was. She'd only seen Aithusa fly happily towards someone and bumping into him. However, as she looked carefully she managed to recognize his features, but she was just too afraid that he would disappear should she dare to move.
He caressed Aithusa and laughed happy to be able to hold her so close and feel her delicate skin on his cheeks. Soon, though, his attention was directed towards Morgana who was still there. It wasn't until he came near to her that she finally dared to run to him and hold him so close that he would never be able to escape.
"I've thought you died." It was all she managed to mutter between tears.
"If you'd allow me to be your friend, we'll have all the time for me to tell you what had happened. Do not blame yourself or Morgause. I asked her to tell you I was dead." She looked in his eyes, like a child that needs to know why certain things happen the way they do. "Because we both want to keep you safe. And she only demanded me to stay alive." Morgana smiled. So, her sister had accepted him. Yet it didn't make her less upset for being lied. Though, she could be upset later.
The sword was still there, mighty and bright among the green hills. They watched and they couldn't help feeling a sense of weakness in front of the mighty destiny. Eventually, he cast a spell and brushes of roses grew around it, hiding it from view and protecting it from any unwanted taker.
"I don't know if certain prophesies are true or not, but this sword has already created enough damage. It's better to never be used again." Morgana smiled. Mordred's grave had never been more beautiful.
Down, behind the numerous branches and flowers, a tiny rose got pushed into the swords blade. Instantly the red of her petals got darker and darker as the blade cut into her fragile branches and the curse spread to all the flowers around it.…