DISCLAIMER: I own nothing.

NOTES: Hey...it did not take me months to update! Hope you are still interested …the plot thickens!

Dominion

After another insistent knock, Morgianna opened the door to her chambers far enough to let the bright light of morning seep into the room. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of a young woman she barely remembered meeting once before.

"Yes?" she asked her voice clear and even. If the early visitor had expected to find the king's sister in disarray so early in the morning she was bound to be disappointed. Not one hair was out of place. Her pale skin still held a rosy tint from being washed with cold water; her black hair was freshly combed and held back from her face by a simple ribbon. She wore a simple robe of moss green wool, the scent of dried flowers still clinging to her. "Milady, the queen bids you to …."

The young woman curtsied, averting her gaze with a gasp when her eyes fell upon Lancelot's naked chest. The knight had sat up in the unmade bed, running one hand through his tousled hair as his eyes assessed the situation. He rolled his eyes in distaste and cocked an eyebrow at Morgianna.

"The queen?" Morgianna asked the girl again, closing the door a fraction to shield Lancelot from her prying eyes. Only a slight coolness in her tone hinted at her impatience. The girl caught it none the less. "The queen requests your company, my lady. She is in need of your counsel."

"Tell her I will come." The girl looked at her feet, afraid to look up into Morgianna´s eyes. She had heard tales about the King's sister who was supposed top be a sorceress. Her own family had converted to Christendom, but she knew about the power the lady of the lake was said to command. She resisted the urge to whisper a prayer. Instead she curtsied again and hurried to convey the message to her mother, who was waiting on the queen.

Morgianna closed the door, turning to Lancelot.

"You could not have pretended to be asleep for a few more moments?" she asked.

Lancelot shrugged, giving her a shadow of his roguish smile. It made her heartbeat quicken and her heart fill with sadness at the smile time. The smile was for her, but part of it was strained and painful. He was mocking himself and it hurt to see.

"She will hardly keep that tasty morsel of news to herself; by noon everyone in the garrison will know where you spent the night."

"Afraid I will tarnish your reputation?" he asked with a smirk, pulling his shirt over his head.

Morgianna lifted her eyebrows. "I am the lady, to those who follow the old path I am sacrosanct, my words stands. I owe no explanation to any man and can bestow my favour where I see fit. To those who have converted, I am a witch, so it does not matter. They may not believe but they at least fear….I was more concerned for you. I did not think you want this ….." she held out her arms to encompass the room "…known to anyone."

There was a flicker in his eyes and Morgianna knew her words had struck a chord of truth.

He nodded, looking at his feet like a sullen boy for a moment. He knew she had seen what he did not want to admit to himself.

"Forgive me …" he said, his voice raw. "Sometimes I do not know myself …" He reached out, taking her hand. Morgianna just stood there, looking on as he kissed the back of her hand and held it to his forehead for a while. His posture was both defeated and defiant at the same time. She marvelled at how this young man could blend that many conflicting emotions together. One day they were bound to tear him asunder. She knew and the knowledge made her throat tight. But not yet ….not yet …

Her other hand touched his hair and he looked up from where he was sitting.

"There is nothing to forgive." Morgianna said softly, touching his cheek before she gently pulled away. She walked out the door without looking back.

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Guinevere was sitting in a wooden bathtub broad enough for two grown men, laid out with linen. Her eyes were closed, her head tilted backwards. Her pretty face held an expression torn between impatience, annoyance and resignation. She was a creature of conflicts, just like Arthur ….just like Lancelot. Steam rose from the hot water in the tub and Morgianna noted the strong scent of herbs mingling with the dried petals of different flowers that floated on the milky surface of the water. The women had looked up and curtsied as she entered. A significant look from the king's sister was enough to send them out of the room.

Guinevere did not open her eyes, but Morgianna could tell that the young woman was well aware of what was happening around her.

"Can you believe what they are doing?" she sighed, running her slender fingers through her wet hair with a sigh. Morgianna stepped closer, since Guinevere was obviously not bothered by the thought of being naked around her. She sat up, opening her eyes.

"We are married for no longer than a fortnight and already they are dunking me in …this…." Guinevere said, her voice taking on a slightly bitter tone. "Not even a month….Morgianna."

Arthur's sister gave her the shadow of a smile, deeply inhaling the spicy mixture of herbs and flowers. "I see the fertility-charms are already beginning…." She surmised.

She could understand Guinevere's impatience. For a young bride and queen of only a few weeks to feel already pressured in this manner was not easy.

"All these women suddenly waiting on me, following me ….expecting answers and orders from me! I was a chieftain's daughter, I know my duty to my husband and my people but this is ridiculous!"

"I would seem …a little hasty to drench you in seven different fertility-drugs at the same time." Morgianna agreed her face calm but hiding a trace of humour that Guinevere perceived none the less. Guinevere looked at the water with a disbelieving sneer.

"I should think so…"

Morgianna folded her hands in front of her gown, assessing the emotions on Guinevere's face.

It seemed that the rumours about Lancelot that were bound to spring up had not yet reached her ears. She was too upset with this other thing, it seemed.

"They know you have shared my brother's bed long before you were married." Morgianna shrugged. "Pressure like this is never good. I would advice you not to take it to heart, but I know that it is easier said than done. I am sure my brother does not see you as cattle and I am also sure he does not expect you to conceive a child immediately, Guinevere."

The young queen took a deep breath. "I know …I know this has nothing to with him. It just …bewilders me."

Her pale eyes watched Morgianna. It would never cease to amaze Guinevere how much Arthur was akin to his sister and how different they were at he same time. The lady of the lake was an austere presence, a commanding woman. Sometimes it seemed to Guinevere that nothing could shake her, she was always so controlled, so calm….always looked at the world with such knowing eyes. As a child of the old ways Guinevere had been taught respect and veneration for the position, but sometimes she wondered how much of the awe Morgianna was inspiring was her station and how much of it was indeed Morgianna herself.

"The people are still uncertain, not everything is yet in order….in balance for this land." Morgianna said with that soothing tone she usually used to talk to Arthur. "They need time, maybe even a manifestation of that new order…of their future's security. One might say that is why some might be so intent on my brother fathering an heir as soon as possible." Still, Morgianna could well imagine Arthur's reaction to this foolishness.

Guinevere pursed her lips and sighed again. She leaned forward with a pleading look. "I know…" she licked her lips, looking directly into Morgianna´s face. "That is why I need you counsel….your wisdom."

Morgianna returned the look, a feeling of dread growing in her chest like some malignant flower. Inwardly she thanked Viviane for the years of training…..

They can never know what you feel, they can never know what you think….not even the druids, child, not even those closest to you. You are the lady; you are above emotion, calm as the lake, unfathomable as its depths. You can never show what is inside…an enemy might use it to destroy you; a friend might find truths you can not afford to unveil….

Wear your face like a mask, Morgianna. Be composed and impenetrable…and no enemy will conquer us, our people will prevail.

In the space of a breath Morgianna could feel her face fall into that unreadable, empty expression she had been schooled to show the world, a calm exterior promising nothing while the storm raged inside. Guinevere did not seem to notice.

"What would you have of me?" She asked kindly, but her voice sounded hollow in her own ears.

"You know …." Guinevere whispered, giving her a trusting smile. "You know everything."

"Hardly…."

"You can see my future, you can tell me ….if there will be a child, a son for Arthur and me. So that …I can rest assured and not …let them torture me with all this anymore."

"You are young, Guinevere." Morgianna told her softly. "You are young and healthy. I do not need to see into the future to know that you are also strong. Why should you worry yourself so? You have so much time ahead of you to conceive an heir."

"Yes…" Guinevere said, pulling her knees up to her chest. "I know …but I would feel reassured if I could hear it from your lips, from the lady." Her eyes were bright as she said it.

Morgianna closed her eyes, summoning all the calm she had.

Itwas yet to be….that door had not closed yet.

"There will come a time for you to conceive…soon." Morgianna opened her eyes and looked at the young woman before her. Two paths she had seen, a moment of weakness or strength on her part would decide …all their fates, everything ….this young woman held it in the palm of her hand without even knowing it.

Morgianna stepped closer, squeezing Guinevere's hand tight. "Soon, my queen, soon. It is all a question of the right time." She looked deep into the younger woman's eyes, willing her to understand how much depended on her. But no matter how much she wished it, she could not tell her. If she did no good would come of it.

"Then you see a child."

Morgianna forced herself to smile and nodded, a deep sadness piercing her heart.

"Aye …there is a child in my brother's future."

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He arrived in the midst of a gathering storm.

"What is he doing?" Gawain asked up on the garrison's stronghold, watching Marke of Tintangel and his entourage with their banners and spears firmly planted on the ground, waiting patiently in front of the gates.

"Waiting …." Tristan said simply, caressing his falcon's feathers.

"Waiting for what? The gates are open!" Galahad returned, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Finally Marke was dismounting his horse. The knights watched as a figure emerges from a side-door near the gates.

He could have ridden through those gates like the guest he was. A part of Morgianna felt like scolding him like a child, but an inner voice scolded her instead. It was an old tradition that Marke had been taught to honour and traditions had to be observed. Yet, Morgianna knew she had to make him understand that now that her brother was king, there had to be new traditions to honour him.

"Welcome, my lord. I invite you to be a guest and friend at my brother's fires."

Marke held up his hand without looking, helping a fragile blond woman from her horse. He had brought his sister Ilene, she noted with satisfaction. Marke was earnest in his pursuit of peace.

"Blessed mother, I come in reverence." He said with his deep voice, raw from the wind and travel. He kneeled before her, his head bowed. "Counsel me, lady and grant my your grace. Bless me so that I will do right by my people and….my future king…." At this he lifted his eyes to hear to give her a questioning look.

Morgianna gave him a warm smile, lifting his head.

"Be welcome in my brother's hall, Marke of Tintangel. May peace be with you and your people, may your harvest be plentiful and your decisions as wise as ever."

He stood up straight, a bear of a man with broad shoulders and a red beard. His laughter was full and warm. "It is good to see you again, my lady."

Where Marke was dark and broad, his sister Ilene was fair anddainty like a daisy, a walkingray of sunlight.

Morgianna nodded. "I am glad you have come and I hope we shall hear your sisters enchanting voice grace us with a song."