Title: Drowning In You
Rating: T
Pairing: Arthur/Morgana.
Summary: Someone is drowning young women in Camelot. With no motive and no suspects, Morgana must work out who the murderer is before she becomes the next victim…
Warning: This story is no longer Season 3 compliant. In this fic I'm just going to ignore the whole Morgana/Arthur half sibling issue. The BBC canon may be big and bold and fairly unstoppable, but at least my story isn't turning into an episode of Jerry Springer.
"Morgana? Are you feeling well? You barely touched your food at dinner."
"I'm fine." She met Gwen's concerned eyes in the dressing table mirror and pasted on her best smile. "Really. It's just been a long day." She patted her friend's hand as Gwen unravelled the complicated plait she'd put Morgana's hair in for the evening.
"So you're not worrying about Prince Arthur are you? Or Lord Thaniel."
Morgana laughed, but it sounded hollow even to her own ears. "Well they are enough to put anyone off their dinner."
"That's not what I meant."
Morgana sighed and stood up, shrugging Gwen's hands away and finished unplaiting her hair herself. "I said I'm fine. Truly," she added more kindly when she noted the hurt look on Gwen's face. "There's no need to worry about me."
Gwen nodded unsurely, and then hesitated. "Do you need me for anything else?"
"No, you can go to your own bed now if you wish." Morgana twisted her fingers in her hair, snarling the black locks around her hands. "I can put myself to bed."
"Goodnight then. I'll see you in the morning."
Morgana swallowed and looked away. "Goodnight, Gwen."
She waited until her maid's footsteps had faded away, before counting backwards from five hundred. When Gwen had not returned and the corridors had fallen silent Morgana pulled off her nightgown and shrugged on her riding tunic and clothes, tugging on her boots, and wrapping her thick fur jacket around her for warmth. She bundled her nightgown up and put it in the bed, before pulling the covers up around it so that if one glanced at the bed it looked like Morgana was merely sleeping heavily, cosily wrapped up under the many blankets.
She hoped Gwen would forgive her.
And then she dipped underneath the bed, pushed hurriedly at the stone tile and pulled out Grimacre's book, flipping through it until she found the page she needed. Reading by candlelight she memorised the list of words, the ingredients she would need for the spell and then shut the book, slipping it back into its hiding place.
Brushing the dust from her knees she took one final look around her room and then edged the door open. Peering out into the dark corridors and noting that all was clear she shut her door and locked it with her own key. That would give her some time if she was not back by morning.
Taking a deep breath she set off down the stone hallways, keeping to the shadows, her footsteps silent and quick as she headed towards the physician's chambers.
For her plan to work she needed a miracle.
What she'd had to settle for was a black candle, ground nightshade, three sage leaves, and antimony. All things, of course, that would be found in Gaius' chambers. Obviously, sneaking into his rooms and stealing his ingredients in the middle of the night was not going to be easy. Especially when Merlin was also sleeping in there.
If anything went wrong and she was caught, no excuse in the world would get her out of this mess.
But she had no choice. She had to try.
Gaius' rooms were bathed in darkness when she finally pushed the door open. Fortunately the door itself was well oiled and didn't creak as she gently slipped past it and began to scan the shelves of his apothecary by moonlight.
The black candle was easy enough to find and the sage leaves were in the herbs and spices box that he kept on a shelf by the window. But the ground nightshade was nowhere to be seen and the antimony was on a ledge high up, so that she had to stretch for it on tiptoe.
Her fingers grazed the silvery rock but couldn't find purchase. She reached again, straining the muscles in her legs, her fingers arched out to scrape against it. The antimony shifted nearer as she nudged it with her fingertips and it inched closer and closer to the ledge. One final push and suddenly it was falling and it was going to hit the stone tiles with a loud clatter and her plan would be ruined...
But she caught it nimbly, years of illicit sword training honing her reflexes. She pocketed the shining rock with her other items, before biting her lip and beginning her search for the nightshade.
Where did Gaius keep his poisons?
A black wooden box to her right caught her eye. A black box locked up tight, with a small keyhole and the shape of a skull engraved below it. She chewed her lip and then went searching into the physician's desk, finding his chain of keys, quickly sifting through them before finding a tiny decrepit black key, thick with rust and grime.
She slipped it into the lock; her breath caught in her throat as she turned the key.
There was a satisfying click.
The bedroom door opened and Merlin stumbled out.
He was staring straight at her.
She hadn't had time to move, shock had immobilized her limbs and now she stood prone in the moonlight, one hand on the box of poisons, her other held protectively out in front of her, fingers spread flat and wide like the rays of the sun, as though she could blind Merlin and prevent him from seeing her.
She frowned. He hadn't moved. He was just standing there, staring at her. Eyes narrowed she inched closer.
"Merlin?"
He wasn't staring at her- he was staring through her, his eyes curiously flat and unseeing, glazed still with dreaming.
Unconsciously she relaxed. He was sleepwalking.
With no more time to waste, and being unable to do anything more with Merlin she turned back to the box, flicking back the lid and hurriedly pulling out bottle after bottle of innocuous looking powders and liquids, each neatly labelled with their name and deadly properties.
Her hand closed over nightshade.
Merlin made a jerky movement towards her.
Jittery, she glanced back over to him, but he was still firmly asleep. She took the nightshade from its placeholder, locked the box once more and headed for the door as silently as she had arrived.
With one final fond look at her friend she closed the door behind her and escaped out into the castle grounds heading for the maze.
Inside the familiar hedges she headed directly to the centre and knelt down before the tree there, one hand pressed briefly, reverently, against the names inscribed upon it. Scrabbling at the dirt with her nails she dug up the dagger Thaniel had given her, before bracing herself for the pain and slicing across her left palm. The blood welled thickly and began to drip down on the dark wet soil as she crushed the sage in her right hand mixing it with the blood and pouring the nightshade on top of it all. She cut a few fine strands of hair and added them to the pile before holding the antimony in her bleeding hand, gritting her teeth as the rock scraped against the cut, soaking in her blood and staining the silver ruby.
Then she began to whisper the words of Grimacre's spell, the incantation flowing from her lips as though she'd been practicing magic for years, the knowledge somehow instinctual.
The wick of the candle suddenly flared into life, burning with a bright green flame, and she began to chant faster, the magic pressing heavily against her chest, her hand stinging with the pain of gripping the antimony, the sage, blood, hair and nightshade beginning to bubble as though in an unseen pot.
Then the candle flared brightly again as it melted down, mixing with the bubbling ingredients til it was nothing more than a thick sludge in the dirt and a bit of melted wax.
Morgana stopped chanting as the weight lifted from her, and haphazardly reburied the dagger in the dark, her left hand hampering her. Next she gathered up the still soft and pliable wax, rolling it into a ball and putting it into her pocket. Then gingerly she reached out with her index finger and pressed it into the thick hot sludge, before letting a single drop touch her tongue. She grimaced at the taste, spat onto the ground, and then closed her eyes to wait, just as the spell had instructed.
After all nothing said trap! like a mysterious note from an anonymous source.
This was her backup if everything went wrong. Because this was Camelot, and it was Morgana.
Things were almost certain to go wrong.
"My lady?"
Gwen knocked on the door hesitantly and called again. When there was no reply she tried the handle, but the door was shut tightly. Gwen frowned, rarely used to being locked out of her mistress' chambers, but if Morgana had been unwell in the night and had wished not to be disturbed then perhaps that was why she had locked the door. Gwen fished in her petticoat pockets for her spare key, before slipping it into the lock and opening the door.
"My lady?" She called gently, when she saw the blankets piled up high. Her mouth curved in fond exasperation as she pulled open the curtains, sunlight streaming into the room. "Morgana, you really have to get up you know. You can't hide under the covers all day."
When she still had no response Gwen rolled her eyes and tugged the covers back.
Her mouth opened in shock and the bedsheets dropped from her nerveless fingers.
Someone was shaking his shoulders roughly.
"Morgana," he growled out tiredly. "Unless you want to join me in bed you will cease and desist this instant."
"I'm not Morgana, Arthur," said an anxious voice above him.
"Guinevere?" Startled, the prince blinked, now completely awake and sat up, unconsciously pulling the bedclothes higher up his chest. He swiped a hand though his hair, blonde tufts sticking out wildly. "What is it? What's wrong?"
"It's Morgana." She wrung her hands. "She's gone and I don't know where she is."
There was a sickening moment as his gut twisted. He tasted something like fear at the back of his throat.
"Have you checked elsewhere?"
"All the places I could think she might be. No sign of her."
Arthur swung himself out of bed and began hastily pulling on his tunic and riding boots. "Merlin!"
The dark haired boy hurried in moments later, did a double take at seeing Gwen, and then rubbed his forehead in confusion. "Sire?"
"Morgana's gone." Arthur's voice, though outwardly composed was threaded through with worry. "Ready my horse. We leave in five minutes."
Merlin nodded and hurried off. Arthur strapped his sword to himself and gave Gwen a tight smile. "I'll find her, I promise. For now tell no-one, especially not my father."
"But what should I say if anyone asks?"
"Guinevere, I trust you. Make something up. No-one must know that she's missing for now. She might have just wandered off ...or she may be in trouble." A muscle in his jaw ticked at that thought. "But until we know for sure it will only cause more panic, and if Morgana has snuck off and Father finds out she'll be punished severely, and neither of us wants to see her in the dungeons."
Gwen nodded her head. "All right."
With one final reassuring look at her he left his rooms and headed for the stables. A nagging at the back of his head and an ache in his heart though made him pause.
Turning on his heel he headed for the old maze he and Morgana had spent so much time in, in their younger years.
Stepping over the threshold and treading the old familiar paths, he tamped down firmly on the rising guilt that always attacked him here, the memories burning painfully and clearly in his head.
The tree, their declaration, promises he didn't keep. The look on her face when he had disappointed her so badly.
He reached the centre, his eyes wet and his heart heavy.
It was deserted, and his final hope that he would find Morgana here was crushed. Everything was as it always was in this still silent world. The tree stood alone, the carving still the same, their names forever immortalised together on the bark.
Something made him pause though.
He stepped closer to the tree, his face creasing as he knelt down by the tree roots and brushed at the disturbed soil. It didn't take him long to uncover the hastily buried dagger.
The dagger stained with bright red blood.
"Morgana!"
The young woman looked up from her seat on a rock by the edge of the lake, her expression one of bemusement. She raised an eyebrow as the two riders came nearer, Arthur hurriedly dismounting before running over to her, Merlin hanging back awkwardly.
She stood up and brushed a stray piece of grass from her tunic. "What's wrong?"
"What's wrong? What's wrong?" Arthur gripped her tightly, scouring her from top to toe for injuries. "Have you gone completely insane?" He hissed at her, shaking her shoulders. "Have you taken leave of what little sense you actually have? How could you be so stupid as to leave the castle on your own?" His face inched closer, his eyes furiously boring into hers. "What if the murderer had targeted you next?"
"You're hurting me," she replied coldly.
He let her go reluctantly, through he didn't let her stray too far from him; his eyes fixed on her form.
"And you didn't even bring anything to protect yourself with. What were you thinking?" He thrust Thaniel's dagger into her hand, the blade now clean and shining once more. "Take this before I kill you myself."
Morgana rolled her eyes. "There's no need to be so dramatic, Arthur." She shrugged and caressed the dagger, before strapping it to her side. "I was getting claustrophobic up in the castle. Not going anywhere, not doing anything new."
"You went riding the other day," Arthur reminded her tightly. "You watched the tournament."
"But I was always surrounded by people. I needed a bit of space. Besides," she argued, "knights patrol here by the water's edge, so I was hardly alone, even if I wanted to be."
He resisted the urge to shake her hard again. "You're lucky Gwen came to me and not Father. He would have thrown you in the dungeons for this."
"I'm surprised you didn't tell him." She smirked. "You always were Daddy's boy."
"Don't tempt me, Morgana."
He turned and began to head towards the horses. "Come on, I've had enough of searching for you this morning. Let's get you back to Camelot before anyone notices you've been more idiotic than Merlin." He shot her a look. "You owe me for this."
Morgana snorted. "Hardly." She nodded at Merlin as they reached the servant boy, still seated on his horse. "You don't mind if I ride with you do you, Merlin? I'm afraid it's too much for the horse to carry both me and Arthur's ego."
Arthur snorted. "You're welcome to her, Merlin."
Morgana just shot him a look and reached up to the saddle to mount, one foot in the stirrup, as she prepared to swing round behind Merlin.
Which is when he noticed how wet her sleeves were...and the tips of her hair, as though she'd been very wet recently...
Merlin's eyes met Morgana's.
"Arthur?" He called urgently.
The prince turned as Morgana dropped back to the ground. She smiled apologetically.
"Sorry about this…" And then she leapt for Arthur.
He just managed to miss the blade aimed for this throat.
Merlin slid from his horse, magic on the tip of his tongue as he watched Arthur and Morgana fight, her agility matching his strength. He winced as Morgana's blade sang over Arthur's head and then down, barely missing his jugular.
"I think she's possessed," he called out.
"Really, Merlin," Arthur said dryly as he ducked another swipe. "What was your first clue?"
Merlin shifted anxiously from one foot to another, looking for an opportunity to help but finding none.
"How do we kill it, without hurting Morgana?" called Arthur.
Merlin raised his hands helplessly. "I don't know."
And then suddenly Morgana's blade was knocked from her hand, and Arthur had his sword to her throat.
"Merlin? Any ideas?"
"Sorry."
Morgana seemed unconcerned however by the weapon resting at her pulse. She merely smirked and ran her hands down her body. Arthur's treacherous eyes couldn't help but follow.
"You can't hurt me," she teased knowingly. "You like this body too much."
His sword handle smashed into her temple.
Morgana dropped to the floor like a stone.
"Arthur!" Merlin frowned. "I'm not sure..."
"It was the only way," Arthur replied quietly, smoothly picking up the unconscious woman in his arms and resting her head in the crook of his neck. "Make yourself useful and help me get her on the horse."
"She needs help, not this."
They'd had little choice upon their return but to inform the King and Gaius, and now all four of them were down in the dungeons, where Morgana had been chained to a wall by her wrists, conscious once more and furious.
"Morgana's suspicions were right," Gaius said quietly as Uther paced inside the dungeon, casting his ward wary glances every now and then. Morgana angrily rattled her chains every time he did though and hissed, her beautiful features warped with hatred. "She said something magical was behind this all, but without proof there was little we could do about it. Now I'm afraid we may be too late."
"Too late?" Uther's face was a mix of anguish and anger. "Surely there must be something you can do, Gaius?"
"Morgana should be dead, sire. Fossegrim drown people. Not possess them." The physician shook his head, completely at a loss as to what to do. "I don't understand why Morgana wasn't drowned like the other women. It makes no sense." He frowned at the shell of Morgana, as though he could see the creature within her that was controlling her. "The Fossegrim won't tell us why and we can't make her without hurting Morgana's body."
"What do you want?" Said Uther tightly, coming to a standstill in front of Morgana. "Perhaps we can help you."
Morgana, or the thing that was controlling Morgana merely hissed at them and shook her chains more vigorously. "My beloved will kill you all."
"And who is your beloved? Is he the one that has been killing the women?"
The water sprite remained silent however, and merely grinned, her lips pressed tightly together.
"Sire, this is fruitless." Gaius put a hand on Uther's arm and ushered him towards the cell door. "I will consult my books and see what I can find out about possession by Fossegrim. Perhaps a solution will, in time, present itself."
"But how much time do we have?" Uther replied tiredly. He paused at the entrance to the room. "Arthur?"
"I won't be long, Father."
The king hesitated, before casting Morgana one final look as he left. Merlin shut the door behind them, watching over Arthur cautiously, who had stood all this time silent and still.
"Do you think she's still in there?" Said Arthur abruptly. "Morgana. Do you think she's in there, or do you think she's gone? Do you think..." he swallowed as though the words hurt him physically. "Do you think she'll ever come back?"
"Arthur..." Merlin began softly, but he was suddenly interrupted as Morgana shuddered violently and then fell back limply against the dungeon walls, her hair covering her face. She took a deep breath as though she'd been underwater for hours and was suddenly coming up for air, before blinking rapidly and focusing her attention on the others in the cell.
"Arthur?"
"Morgana?" He took a step towards her. "Is that you?"
"Arthur, I don't have much time." Her eyes were wide and frightened as she leant towards him, tears pooling in her eyes. "She'll be back in control soon."
Arthur edged nearer. "Tell me what I can do."
"I-"
He leant closer.
"Arthur!" Merlin warned.
Morgana snapped her teeth and leaped for Arthur, one hand catching round his tunic. Merlin, however, was quicker. One hand grabbed for his shoulder, the other encircling Arthur's wrist, yanking him back hard as Morgana strained against her chains, her hands curled to snare the prince, her teeth bared. All she was left with was a torn bit of cloth for her efforts, which she threw in disgust to the ground, hissing.
"Thank you," Arthur muttered, his face pale with anger and disappointment.
Merlin squeezed his shoulder. "She's not Morgana anymore. And if the creature pretends she is it's just a trick."
"Just a trick Merlin?" The Fossegrim's voice grew crafty. "I think not. What would you say defines who someone is? Having their feelings, their memories, and their personality? Then Morgana's right here. Inside me. I know all of her likes and dislikes, what made her tick. All of her memories are my memories." She glanced at Arthur underneath her lashes. "I know she liked to be kissed just beneath her jaw, and where the soft skin of her neck met her shoulder you'd bite down gently, whilst your fingers tangled in her hair-"
"Stop it," he said harshly, his hands fisted at his side.
"And she'd let out this little breathy moan when you-"
Arthur's sword was at her throat. "I said stop."
"Or what, my prince?" The creature replied huskily, her eyes boring into his. "What will you do to me?"
Morgana's body undulated obscenely. Arthur's eyes treacherously tracked the bead of water that trickled from her bright red lips down her neck, running down into the valley of her breasts.
"Give her back to me."
"Oh I can do much more than that, Princeling. I can make your dreams come true. I can make her love you. I can make your rival disappear. All you have to do…is free me."
He jerked back. "Never."
The creature cackled, cracking Morgana's lips into a hideous grin. "Then I'm afraid your beloved Morgana is lost to you forever. I can wait an eternity for my beloved. Somehow I don't think you have the same luxury."
Arthur slowly lowered his sword, but his knuckles were white where they were wrapped around the hilt.
"Oh dear." The water demon shot a sly look at Merlin. "I think I broke him."
Merlin tugged on Arthur's sleeve. "Come on."
Arthur cast one more look at the Fossegrim, who blew him a kiss. He stalked angrily away, her laughter haunting him down the dungeon hallways.
At the entrance to the dungeon he almost knocked Bridget and Thaniel over in his haste.
"Prince Arthur!" Bridget exclaimed. "We heard the terrible news. We're just going to see Morgana-"
"No," said Arthur abruptly. "Only myself, my father and the court physician are allowed to see her."
"And Merlin as well?" Said Thaniel angrily. "So the servants can see her but her friends can't?"
"We know she's been possessed," said Bridget, her voice wobbling slightly, interjecting before Arthur did something he'd regret to her brother. "But she's still my friend and-"
"But she's not." Arthur's voice cracked. "That thing down there is not Morgana and she's certainly not your friend."
"But perhaps if she saw us she'd be able to break the possession," argued Bridget.
"It doesn't work like that, Lady Bridget," said Merlin softly. "But Gaius is working on a solution and she'll be back to her old self in no time." He hesitated. "For the moment though it's best to listen to Arthur. Don't go down there. Remember her how she was."
Bridget's face creased in anger and grief. "I wish you'd all stop talking about her as if she'd died," she argued. "She's not dead!" Her hands balled into fists and she choked back her tears. "She's only metres from me and I can't even see her and you're all acting as though she's gone away and she's never coming back!"
She turned on her heel and ran back down the corridor. Thaniel shot them a dark look, before bowing his head sardonically and heading after his distraught sister.
"It makes no sense," said Gaius to Merlin later that evening in their chambers. "The three women who were killed have nothing in common with each other let alone Morgana, apart from the fact that they were female, and up until Morgana's possession, all the victims were village women and were drowned."
Merlin swirled his spoon round in his soup. "That book Morgana gave you to look at- the Grimacre one. He knew the legends of the Fossegrim. Maybe he can tell us why."
"Yes, but I gave it her back, and I have no idea where she would have put it." Gaius finished his meal and pushed his bowl away. "Unfortunately it is also the only copy of the book we had in the archives."
"Surely there are other books on possession though."
Gaius paused. "Actually..." He got up, moaning as his back protested and headed over to his small personal library. "Possession..."
His fingers ran over the numerous obscure titles before landing on a small black book with thick gold lettering in a language Merlin didn't know. Gaius brought it back over to the table, flipping through the tissue thin pages that had been worn by time and were now barely legible, their subject only identifiable by the illustration accompanying each inscription. "Possession by goblin...no that's no good...love spell...succubus...water sprite, are here we are."
Gaius frowned. "I'm afraid it's rather an ancient book and some of it appears to be in the language of the old religion and some of it in Latin." He frowned and peered closer. "Water demons...it gives a brief description of their habitat. And a warning. Rather too late if you're reading this book mind...and then something about a strong magical core being used to trap them...ah!" Gaius momentarily brightened before frowning again. "The part I can translate seems to mention a magically enchanted... sword I think... can be used to trap water sprites inside it. Preferably one that has been soaked in the water, where the demon lives."
"So that's good right?" Said Merlin, failing to see why Gaius appeared so unhappy. "We have a solution."
Gaius took off his glasses and stared at his pupil. "Merlin, it may have escaped your notice but we don't have a magically enchanted sword."
Merlin frowned and then a grin suddenly lit up his features. Gaius frowned knowingly at him.
"No. I absolutely forbid you to go anywhere near that lake."
"But Excalibur could be our only option."
"Merlin, if you go near that lake you could be possessed, and the last thing we need is for a highly powerful wizard to suddenly be taken over by a water demon. Think of the havoc you could cause." Gaius turned back to the text. "Besides it doesn't say how the sword is supposed to help trap the Fossegrim."
"Maybe if the person who is possessed is near it then the sprite sort of gets... sucked into it."
"Now you're simply guessing."
Merlin stood up and gathered the dishes together, ready to be washed in the kitchens. "But what if I'm right? What if this is Morgana's cure?"
"Or it could be a fool's errand and one that ends with us in an even worse predicament than before." Gaius fixed him with a look. "Promise me Merlin, that you won't go down to the lake, searching for that sword. Merlin," he repeated when the young man ignored him and continued to clatter around with the dirty dishes. "Promise me."
Merlin had backed up to the door. "Sorry Gaius, I couldn't hear you. What was that you said? Nevermind, I'll just go wash these dishes and then you can finish telling me what it was. Bye now!"
And cutting short his rambling he escaped out of the doors, still clutching the used bowls to him.
"Merlin!"
But Gaius was too old to run after him. Having escaped, Merlin slowed his run down to a gentle amble, but he still almost missed the confrontation that was going on in Uther's chambers as he walked past.
"- and I still argue that I should be allowed to see her!"
"Lady Bridget, you are a guest in this castle. And whilst you are living with us you will follow our rules." Uther's face seemed more deeply lined than it had ever been, as though he had aged rapidly in just a few short hours.
"But sire-"
"Daughter." Said Bedworth shortly. "Remember to whom you speak."
Clearly unhappy, but unable to defy both her father and the king, Bridget fell silent. Merlin edged closer to the door and spied Thaniel in the king's chamber's as well.
Bedworth laid a hand on his friend's shoulders, his voice unusually quiet but comforting. "If we presume that a water demon is the thing that has been killing the people, then is it this one or another one- this Fossegrim's beloved?"
Uther scrubbed his face tiredly with his hand. "Gaius said he couldn't be sure. All we know is that there are two of them and we have one. Perhaps they have both been killing the women, perhaps merely one. I am as much at a loss as you."
"Can we use the Fossegrim as bait?" Said Thaniel, his arms folded, his face still bruised from the tournament, nose crooked in the middle where Arthur had broken it, the swelling only now beginning to come down. "Surely this demon's beloved will come after her?"
"Into the dungeons of Camelot?" Uther shook his head incredulously. "They'd have to be highly stupid, or supremely confident in their abilities of deception and manipulation to get in so far without being detected."
"Or very much in love," said Bridget quietly.
The voices grew quieter, and straining to hear anything Merlin left. He'd almost made it to the kitchens when he stopped and headed back to Arthur's rooms.
He hesitated at the door, before knocking quietly. For a while there was no answer before Arthur's voice called for him to enter. One glance at his face and it was obvious that he'd been crying. Merlin, however, was kind enough not to say anything.
He put the dishes down on a table and walked over to where the prince was standing by the fireplace.
"We'll figure this out." Merlin rested his hand consolingly on Arthur's arm. "She'll be fine."
Arthur said nothing.
"We'll get her back."
Arthur remained silent. He leant against the mantelpiece and stared into the fire.
Bridget woke up sometime in the middle of the night.
The handle of her door was rattling.
Someone was trying to get in.
She watched in slowly dawning horror as the knob twisted, and the door creaked open. She reached for the heavy candlestick on her bedside table, gripping it in her hands. A shadowy figure slipped though the door, but she couldn't make out anything else in the dark.
The door clicked shut.
All she could hear was her heavy breathing as the figure glided closer. It was cloaked, she realised, that was why she couldn't see who it was.
"Sh-show yourself," she stammered as she inched higher up the bed.
The hooded figure glided even closer until it was at the foot of her bed. Bridget slid out of the bedclothes and stood on her bed, the candlestick brandished in her hands.
The figure pulled the hood of it's cloak off and grinned at her.
"Hello, Bri."
"Morgana?"
You know the drill by now folks. Read and review! This is my antidote to Season 3.
ArMor is now a beautiful but doomed ship, and I'm standing on the deck waving as we go down. Come and join me?