Morgana was a prisoner. Betrayed by her best friend in the world, she had been cast into a dim corner in one of her least favorite rooms in the castle and left to endure her captivity alone, abandoned and forgotten by everyone - at least that was how it felt. Perhaps she was over-dramatizing her current situation just a bit.
What had actually happened was this: when she, Gwen, and Leon reached the castle with a still-unconscious Arthur in tow, Gaius was summoned to attend the injured prince - along with a pair of burly guards, since the old physician could hardly be expected to move Arthur by himself. Before he was safely out of earshot, Gwen had opened her big mouth and told him about Morgana's slight overreaction when she heard how her foster brother had sustained his wounds.
Next thing Morgana knew, she was being whisked off to the infirmary as well, despite her protests. Gaius had deposited her on a bench in a corner of his workshop, and there she waited for his attention; Arthur, being the most seriously injured, was the physician's first priority. After him, Gaius would tend to Leon, who had several cuts and bruises - most minor, some deep, all potentially nasty if they became infected - and a sprained wrist. Nobody was paying Morgana any mind at the moment, but she wasn't allowed to leave until Gaius had seen her.
She supposed there were worse places to be held captive - the dungeons, for instance - she just didn't care for the infirmary because she had only ever come there when she was ill or, more often, in search of a drug that could give her some reprieve from her ever-worsening nightmares. At least I am not lying on the patient's cot, like poor Arthur.
Her view of the prince was blocked by the people clustered around him: Gaius, Uther, the guards who had carried him in, another handful of guards who were there for no discernible purpose, a couple of courtiers who had been present when Uther received the news of his son's less than glorious return . . . and the list went on. Even Gwen, who thought Arthur an arrogant bully (which, in all fairness, he sometimes was) was hovering on the edge of his crowd of concerned well-wishers.
At last, Gaius announced that he had done all he could, and a team of guards pressed forward to carry the prince to his chambers. Most of the people followed them out, including Uther; Gwen peeled away from the crowd and came to sit on the bench beside Morgana. "He hasn't regained consciousness yet," she reported. The blood had drained from her face, turning her dark skin an ashy grayish hue. "Gaius did his best, but it doesn't look good. His ribs are broken, and when his armor was removed we saw that three of them have poked through his skin-" Gwen broke off abruptly and clapped a hand to her mouth, looking like she might be sick.
Grateful that someone was being honest about her brother's condition rather than trying to spare her the grisly details that were deemed unfit for a lady's delicate ears, Morgana slid closer and put her arms around the distraught maid. She even decided to forget that she was supposed to be upset with Gwen for telling Uther how she had almost fallen off her horse earlier. I adore Gwen, really. If only she didn't have that unfortunate tendency to babble . . .
They sat together until Gaius returned from getting Arthur settled and treating Leon, whereupon Morgana patiently allowed him to examine her, resisting an impulse to roll her eyes and say 'I told you so' when he pronounced her perfectly healthy.
Uther frowned. "But her maid said she fainted."
"I did not faint!" Morgana burst out before Gaius could answer. Fainting was something brainless ninnies did to get attention from men; Morgana considered such antics far beneath her. "I . . . suffered a momentary dizzy spell when I saw the extent of Arthur's injuries, that's all; they were quite astonishing at close range. How is he, Gaius?"
"He's resting, my lady. I believe he will get better, in time."
"I assume Sir Leon told you the same things he told me regarding how Arthur came by those wounds?"
"Gaius and I have heard Sir Leon's account of the battle, yes," Uther replied somewhat uncomfortably.
Morgana waited for him to say more; when he didn't, she demanded, "Well? Today we received proof that the rumors you dismissed out of hand only yesterday are true - King Balinor is a dragonlord!"
"Yes, it seems that he is. I shall convene the war council tomorrow to discuss-"
"Discussions will do no good! How can you possibly hope to defeat a kingdom whose ruler has dragons at his disposal? It is miraculous that Arthur survived at all, and I fear others will not be so fortunate."
"Indeed," Uther agreed, though his tone was much too noncommittal for Morgana's liking. "I assure you, responding to this development is my first priority. Now, you should retire for the evening - I understand that your mind must be disturbed by what you have seen and heard since Arthur and Leon's return. Perhaps Gaius can give you a calming draft?"
The physician bowed. "Of course, sire."
"I don't want any more drugs," Morgana snapped, "I want to know what we are going to do!"
"Matters of war are not the concern of a woman," Uther said sternly. "Leave me; I must confer with Gaius in private."
Morgana inclined her head in a brief deferential gesture. "Yes, my lord. Come, Gwen." She swept out of the infirmary with Gwen, who didn't want to be left behind with the king, hot on her heels.
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Uther waited for Morgana's maid to shut the door behind her before turning to his talented physician, trusted advisor, and loyal friend. "Now that we have found a moment away from prying eyes and ears, be honest with me, Gaius. What is your prognosis regarding Arthur?"
"His injuries are serious, sire, but he will live."
"So you said. What are you not telling me?"
"His shoulder is what worries me most, sire. The bone is crushed, splintered; I had to remove several fragments. Arthur must remain in bed for at least a month while it heals, and even then I can't guarantee that the bone will reform perfectly. Certainly it will never be as strong as it once was."
"But Arthur's right arm is his sword arm!" Uther exclaimed in dismay. A lasting injury like this could seriously hamper a man in battle. If Arthur were just a knight, this wouldn't be such a problem; he could simply retire to his lands and send one of his kinsmen to take his place in Camelot's army. As crown prince, that option wasn't open to him. The people, not to mention the nobility, would never respect a ruler who couldn't even lead his armies into battle. Besides, the Pendragons had an unfortunate shortage of family members - there was no one who could take Arthur's place even if he would allow it. Uther knew he wouldn't, though; his son loved fighting and took a great deal of pride in being Camelot's best warrior. To lose that when he was still so young would crush his spirit.
Gaius cleared his throat, drawing the king's attention back to him. "If I may say so, sire, the Lady Morgana is right. This war has lasted three long years, cost hundreds of lives-"
"Regrettable, but those sacrifices were necessary! Dagon is a haven for the corruption and perversion that is magic, and magic must be eradicated!"
"At all costs? Uther, I implore you to see reason. Everywhere the lines of battle are drawn, Camelot's people have been driven from their homes, their fields ruined - I can only imagine what further damage those dragons' fire did last night! Your son is gravely wounded, perhaps beyond the possibility of total recovery, yet you know he will never stand down from battle as long as there is a war to be fought. If you do not cease this madness, Arthur will almost certainly be killed!"
Still Uther hesitated; Gaius could see that his words had struck a chord with the king, but he was far from ready to give up his old grudge. He would see ending the war as a surrender, an admittance that the Old Religion maintained too strong a presence in the world to be vanquished entirely. Fighting an urge to sigh aloud at Uther's stubbornness, Gaius tried a different tack. "Making peace with Dagon does not mean you would have to accept magic here in Camelot. King Balinor is a reasonable man who respects the rights of others to govern their own lands as they see fit. If you would only do the same, I am sure he would agree to keep the dragons and the sorcerers under his command out of your kingdom."
Uther eyed him suspiciously. "How do you know what King Balinor would or would not do, Gaius?"
"Just an educated guess, sire. If you recall, he never declared war on Camelot, not even during the time of the great purge twenty years ago."
"I am sure many magic-users who fled the purge found refuge in Dagon," Uther growled. The fact that some had escaped his net still galled him.
"Where they have not troubled our kingdom since," Gaius pointed out. "All I ask is that you think on what I've said, sire. Nothing need be decided tonight."
Uther gave a curt nod and left the physician's quarters, his mind already playing over Gaius' advice. Making peace, let alone - he almost shuddered to think of it - an alliance, with a land ruled by a dragonlord would be an outrage to his personal beliefs about magic. And yet . . . did his vendetta against magic really mean more to him than all the lives that would be lost if the war continued, now that Balinor had brought dragons into the fight? More than the life of his only son?
Nothing could ever be more important to me than Arthur, he realized. Not even the eradication of sorcery. It was a realization that might very well keep the king awake long into the night. Perhaps I shall see if Morgana has any leftover sleeping drafts.
Aw, Uther has a caring side! Who knew? He just needs to show it more.
Next time we'll catch up with Merlin, Balinor, and maybe even a dragon or two. Raise your left hand if you like dragons! Jump up and down if you like Merlin. Raise your right hand if you wish Morgana wasn't evil. Review if you want another chapter soon-ish. Please?