DISCLAIMER: Right ..like I own any of this.

NOTES: Thanks again to PINK-SISI who reminded me to kick my lazy Muses ass. Hopefully this will not disappoint. There will be another chapter next week

BEYOND REPAIR

"It is a shame…" Venora said, taking a seat next to Morgianna. They both watched Arthur's knights listening to some story Marke was entertaining them with. Laughing and joking in the shade of a tall oak tree. It had taken Arthur and his friends only a few days to grow fond of the young, tall man, just as Morgianna had predicted. While Marke was telling his story, his sister Ilene said in the background, idly plucking the strings of the small harp she held on her lap.

Venora shook her head. Ilene had turned many a man's head since their arrival and it was plain to see that Marke had brought her in order to possibly strengthen his alliance with Arthur by a convenient marriage. But both Venora and Morgianna knew that Marke himself was only to aware of the one flaw in that design. There was a reason why the beautiful Ilene was not yet married at the age of 22. "It really is a shame…" Venora said again.

"She is such a beautiful, sweet-tempered girl. She sings like a nightingale, but …" she sighed."Most every mother I know would counsel her son to look for another wife."
Morgianna pursed her lips as Venora turned to look at her with a frown.
" He has not just brought her here to parade her around in front of Arthur's friends, has he? He has come to ask your advice, to enlist your help." It was more statement than question. Morgianna had to smile. Venora was a shrewd woman, a mother of a whole brood of children. Her perceptive eye had seen, what most men had missed.

"He has." She answered simply, shaking her head." But there was nothing I could see for him, his sister's future is shrouded in mist … maybe he should have asked you for advice instead."
The other woman shook her brown mane of hair, arching her eyebrows.
"There are some things one can see without the gift. He did not need to seek you out as the lady. The woman you are will have counselled him just as well."
Her eyes returned to Ilene. "She is too small, to narrow in the hips. All that dainty beauty will never support a child. The poor thing, even if she carried one to term, she'd never live through childbirth …" she said with a sad tone. "She knows it too. Her mother and the midwife must have been singing that song since she was old enough to bleed. That is not a way for a girl to grow up."

"No, it is not." Morgianna agreed. "And her brother loves her dearly. He could have just married her to one of his men and make sure he never fathered a child on her, but he wants Ilene. And she wants a family. So he brought her here."

"And still no man will have her …cause even for love… What man does not want a son?" sighed Venora, shaking her head again.
" The poor girl."

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"There is nothing I can tell you, that you have not heard before.." Morgianna told Marke. He looked up from his mulled wine, a look of utter desperation on his handsome face. He sat at the table in her small chamber, the fire casting dancing shadows in his features.

"Forgive me, revered mother. I thought that maybe …your gift would show you a way ...for me to ensure my sister's happiness. She's all the family I have left. I thought maybe …"

"I know what you thought." Morgianna said mildly. "You thought a marriage would strengthen your bond with my brother and your sister is a great beauty. She would make a good wife to one of my brother's men."

Marke took a sharp breath. "I do not see my sister as a pawn or cattle to be traded." He said pointedly. Morgianna looked him into the eyes, her face unreadable, but inside she could feel his anger and his sadness like a dull blade. She could understand his reasoning too, his desperation and the burden he carried. All he wanted, was to make those dear to him safe and happy. But when it came to Ilene ... her gift had nothing to show her.

"I did not take you for that sort of a man, Marke of Tintangel." She said evenly. Realizing his tone, Marke bowed his head. "Forgive my lady. I did not mean to give offence."
"You did no such ting." Morgianna refilled his cup. "I regret that there is nothing I can tell you, that will ease your fears.
Your sister is …"

"Her hips are to narrow for childbirth. Yes …seven midwives consulted and they all agree. But Ilene will not hear of it. She wants to be a good wife and a good mother. She knows the danger but she yearns for a home and a hearth. Sometimes I think it would be easier to strike a match for her if she were barren …"

He looked at her.

"There are ways of ensuring that a woman does not conceive. " Morgianna answered his unspoken question, hating the flare of hope in the young man's face. "But that is a decision I would not let any man make for any woman …not even if he was her loving brother …"

Since her conversation with Marke, Morgianna could not free herself of that thought. Something was constantly teasing her mind; a nagging thought, not yet formed. A fleeting sensation, like someone tugging ever so lightly at her sleeve, something she could not place and it was unnerving her. On the outside she was calm and serene as ever, sitting with her brother while he discussed the matters of his ever growing state with his knight's and slowly forming council, entertaining the guests that still came from far and wide. And all the while something dark and bitter haunted her dreams, something she could not name or describe.

"You are not well…" Tristan said in his usual calm voice, his dark eyes searching her face.

He came up next to her on the third evening, as she stared into growing twilight.

"Something is amiss …I cannot yet see it, but I feel it. And it makes me shiver .." She whispered, looking up at him. For once her face not set in stone, her feelings clearly written across the tired lines of her features. Tristan nodded. "It will come to you in time." He said, his voice reassuring. "You are the lady , aren't you?"

A smile crossed her face. "Have you always been so wise, my friend?" The moment she said it, her words struck a chord in her. They looked at each other in silence for a moment.

"I am your friend, lady." Tristan said quietly, nodding.

"Good …" Morgianna whispered, more to herself than to him. "I do not have many friends."

She had never been allowed friends….they were a weakness, a liability, or so Viviane had impressed on her when her training began. The lady was a mystery, all knowing, all seeing, untouchable. Nobody could hold the power to see behind that façade.
"It could be our undoing" Viviane had said. But often enough, Morgianna had seen the price her aunt had paid for the calling. Her sons had been taken away, fostered by other women. Few of them even knowing that she was their real mother. Her aunt had been lonely …until Morgianna had come and filled that void. She shook her had, chasing those thoughts away as her eyes caught Ilene, sitting down on the other side of the yard. She could feel the knowledge, the certainty of what had been nagging her flow into her like a breath.

The conversation with Marke ..it had lingered on her mind ..and now she knew why.

She could feel her feature turn to stone again as she tuned around and walked briskly towards the kitchens. She felt, more than saw Tristan silently falling in step behind her. Servants that were preparing to set up for dinner, hurried out of her path.

Tristan did not ask what she was doing or where they were going, he just followed her like a silent shadow. Several kitchen maids looked up from their work as she walked by them until she found the girl she had been looking for. The girl was immersed in her work, preparing a rich red wine with honey and spicy herbs. Morgianna´s hand shot out with the quickness of a striking snake as she grabbed the girl's wrist before she could add the last batch of herbs to the wine. Her eyes widened. "Revered mother.." she whispered, bowing her head.

Morgianna recognized her as one of the druid's daughters.

"You've been schooled in the old ways." Morgianna stated, her voice cold and harsh.

"Yes, my lady" the girl said.

"Who told you to do this?"

The girl swallowed, staring at Morgianna in horror. "I know what you are doing, now tell me who ordered you to add this to the queen's wine."

"Is something amiss?" Venora asked, sending the other girls who had been watching the spectacle back to work.

"I take it this does not belong in your kitchen?" Morgianna asked, holding out the small herb-Pouched out to Venora who smelled it carefully. Her eyes widened in understanding.

"Most certainly not." She answered sharply. Her eyes settling on the squirming girl.

"Who ordered you to add that filth into the wine?" Morgianna shook her head.

"No matter. I know who is behind this. Go tell your father that if anything like this ever happens again, he will have to answer to me." She said, letting go of the girl's wrist.

"Get out of my kitchen, you little snake." Venora ordered, watching her as she pushed past the others girls with tars in her eyes.

"I will deal with this. " Morgianna said quietly, looking at the other woman. "Not a word."

"Not a word." Venora said, nodding her head, her eyes fixing on Tristan, who still stood behind them in silence.

"Thank you."

When Morgianna and Tristan stepped out of the kitchen, Galahad hurried towards them.

"Milady, your brother has been looking for you."

"What is it?"

"A messenger arrived, there are three ships at the coast."
Morgianna nodded. She would have to deal with her discovery later.

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"He has come a long way." Morgianna remarked.
They stood at the edge of a cliff, looking down at the richly attired party that was making its way up a narrow path from the stony bay below. Morgianna had never met Morholt, lord of the Isles before. But his reputation spoke for itself.

"What does he want?" Arthur asked, shielding his eyes from the wind.

"That is something I cannot tell you yet. We will have to wait until he tells you."

"You do not trust him…" Arthur stated with satisfaction. His sister was a hard woman to read, but he was starting to understand that the things she did not say often spoke volumes.

She turned to him. "I do not know him."

"But you do not trust that his intentions are good."

"Neither do you. " She said with a proud smile.

They looked towards Morholt and his party again. The wind had wrestled a shawl from the only female member of the group. The garment flew away, dragged by the wind and let the fiery mass of hair it had covered spill forth. Morgianna closed her eyes, feeling her heart break. There was no mistaking the young woman. She had seen her before in her dreams. She had seen her tall, slender figure, her pale, freckled skin and her full, red tresses. She had seen her tear stained face, her fierce pride ... She had seen her heartbreak.

As though sensing that something was amiss, Arthur touched his sister's cold hand.

"Morgianna?" She took a deep, steadying breath.

"Morholt has brought his most valuable bargaining chip."

"The girl?"

"His niece …Isseult."