Chapter Twenty-seven

Daylight broke out over Camelot and Arthur shifted his weight as he tried to get comfortable in his chair. He had been sitting up most of the night, there had been a few fitful hours of sleep but mostly he had been waiting. As the hours had slipped past and Merlin did not return he grew steadily more concerned.

Gwen woke up an hour later and frowned with concern at her husband.

"Merlin still isn't back?" she asked.

The night before, Arthur had explained most of what he and Merlin knew. But he had left out his previous acquaintance with Morgause. Gwen accepted that he believed himself to be the Prince of Camelot, but he didn't really want her to feel he was growing more delusional, accusing people of plotting against Camelot based on stories that revolved around him being a prince.

"No," he said, finally standing up and stretching. "I'm worried. I think I should go after him."

Gwen got out of bed and went over to him, taking his hand. "They're having the knighting ceremony today for Gerald Dolrick. Everyone in the castle will be there. Morgana will be present and I'll be attending her. If Morgause is in the castle she'll be present at the ceremony. Before we worry about Merlin, let's see if she's back yet herself. I'll be back by noon and then we can decide the best plan to take. Maybe we should talk to Gaius. Besides you've been up all night, you're in no fit state to go tramping about the woods. You should sleep till I can come back."

Arthur sighed and shook his head. "I can't sleep when Merlin could be out there in trouble. He always did," he added, "Have an uncanny knack for falling into trouble."

"Arthur you can't do him any good if you're exhausted." Firmly she led him over to the bed and pushed him down onto it.

"But I could be out there looking for him!"

"You don't know if he needs you to or not. Let me find out if Morgause is here," Gwen repeated.

He had to admit he did not feel up to fighting off a sorceress at the present moment and there was a certain wisdom to Gwen's advice. As Arthur yawned and lay down on the bed he couldn't help but smile and point out to himself that there often was to her advice. After all, that was one of the reasons he had fallen in love with her, wasn't it?

"There my lady," said Gwen, placing a last silver pearl in Morgana's hair. "You're done."

Morgana rose to her feet and smiled at Gwen. "Thank you. I think we're ready to go to the throne room then."

Gwen nodded. As they made their way out of the room she asked, trying to keep her tone merely curious, "Will the Lady Morgause be attending the knighting ceremony?"

"I think so. I'm sure Uther invited her." Morgana sighed and passed a hand over her eyes.

"Are you alright?" asked Gwen, concerned.

"I'm fine," Morgana shook her head, "I've just been so tired recently. I feel awful all the time…" She hesitated and leaned against the wall.

"Perhaps you should not go to the ceremony. I'm sure Uther would understand."

"I have to go," said Morgana, squaring her shoulders and straightening up. "I am Uther's heir and one day I will have to command the knights. I have to be there for them."

The two continued in silence to the throne room. Most of the castle was already there, the knights, several lords and ladies and the wealthier families of Camelot. Gwen eyes almost instantly latched onto Morgause, standing several feet away from the throne. Gwen's heart sank. If she was back, then where was Merlin?

Morgana moved forward and stood a little off to right of Uther, while Gwen took a position off near one of the windows.

The ceremony began and Gerald Dolrick was led in and knelt before Uther who began to speak, but Gwen wasn't watching or listening to those two. Her gaze kept jumping between Morgana and Morgause.

If she hadn't known Morgana she might not have been able to read the signs. Outwardly Morgana appeared fine, every inch regal and serene, but Gwen could recognize from all the years she had served her and all the years the two had been friends, how hard a time she was having controlling her composure. Gwen knew not only how tiring the nightmares were, but how much they seemed to have upset Morgana.

Morgause seemed to be watching the ceremony with interest, but occasionally her gaze would flick for only second towards Morgana. Repeatedly.

The ceremony droned on and Gwen wanted nothing more than to shout a warning. She wasn't sure what was going to happen, but there was something about the way Morgause kept looking at Morgana that made her scared. She was at a loss at what to do and hoped only when the time came she would be able to prevent it somehow but in fact when it did happen there wasn't really anything she could do.

It was at the very end of the ceremony. Uther was touching the shoulders of the now knighted Sir Gerald with his sword, when Morgause took it out of her pocket. It was a small round glasslike disc, blood red in color. Gwen barely had time to move a step forward when Morgause dropped it to the ground and crushed it under her boot. No one glanced towards her; they were all intent on the ceremony. But Gwen saw a faint red smoke rise from the remnants of the disc. It was so faint and so transparent she doubted she would have noticed it if she had not been looking directly at it expecting to see something.

Before Gwen could utter a syllable the faint trail of smoke had flown the few short feet from Morgause to Morgana. It instantly flew up. For one brief split second Morgana saw it and then it seemed to fly into her eyes. She fell back a step and let out a cry. Uther turned towards her, alarmed.

The sensation inside Morgana was something she had only ever felt while half sleep, torn between nightmares and reality, a power coursing through her that she couldn't understand. But it was far stronger now; she had felt nothing this forceful after her dreams. She didn't understand it, she didn't know how it worked, but the one thing she knew, the one thought that rang through her brain at this moment was she had to fight it. It felt like it was exploding within her, it felt as if it singlehandedly fighting against everything she had to burst out.

She let out a cry of pain. She fell back against the wall. Her eyes were shut. Subconsciously she knew there was a commotion in the throne room, she knew people were talking, she thought she heard Uther's voice, but she wasn't listening. She couldn't listen. She had to fight it. Fight whatever it was that was happening with all she had. Fight this uncontrollable urge to let the power out, to set it free.

It hurt, pain radiated through her. She told herself she was strong, she told herself she could do this, she fought the force waging within her, she pushed against it. Not really understanding how or what to do, she blindly tried to force it away as the pain steadily grew. But she was tired. So very tired. Weakened by so many sleepless nights and so many nightmares and so many terrors. Panicked, she could feel the battle within her being lost, she could feel herself weakening while the power, that sheer daunting horrifying force grew and pushed back against her will. And then, in a single instant, as she was on the verge of crumbling, she felt Uther lay a hand on her shoulder and she heard him say,

"Morgana?" His voice was heavy with concern.

Terror swept through her and the last of her willpower was sapped away. She felt as if she exploded as the power lashed out.

Uther was hurled back; window panes shatters and fires erupted from her hands flying across the room.

As suddenly as it had surged out the power died down, leaving Morgana shaking and sobbing. She sunk to the floor, clutching her head as the aftereffects of the pain reverberated through her head.

She was barely conscious of anything that was happening around her, and she didn't know how long she sat there, emotionally and physically spent from the internal struggle.

Gwen had stood there in horror, watching the events. As objects caught fire several people leapt to put them out and many people had run for the exit. As Uther had flown back through the air he had hit a pillar which had winded him, and by the time he had managed to push himself to his feet Morgana had fallen to the ground and, save for the sobs, hadn't moved.

Gwen couldn't read the expression on Uther's face. It broke her heart and terrified her all at the same time.

The knights were still present, several of them had drawn their swords and one or two had moved closer to Uther as if to protect him.

Several people were whispering furiously among themselves and several words were spoken loud enough to reach Gwen's ears, 'magic' and 'sorceress' among uglier ones.

Gwen looked towards Morgause. Her face was a total blank.

"Sire?" It was Sir Leon. He was looking towards Uther. "What…what do you want us to do?"

Uther opened his mouth, and then shut again. He seemed to take several deep breaths as if he were trying to compose himself and then tried again. "Take the Lady Morgana under custody and escort her…" his voice broke and he had to pause as he fought to maintain his composure. "Escort her to the dungeons," he finally finished. His voice had turned harsh and angry.

Gwen felt a sound emerge from her own throat somewhere between a gasp and a sob. Morgana however seemed too distraught to have noticed Uther's words.

Leon beckoned two other knights towards him. He approached Morgana tentatively, but clearly not from fear so much as concern. He laid a hand on her shoulder and whispered something to her.

Slowly, Morgana raised her face and looked up at him.

"Please my lady," he said, a little louder this time. "Come with me."

Mutely she nodded and he helped raise her to her feet and she was led out of the throne room.

A moment of silence filled the room and then a Lord that Gwen recognized as being one of Uther's advisors took a step towards him.

"Your Majesty-"

"Out," cut in Uther, his voice hard and cold.

"But your Majesty-"

"Everyone out!" As Uther turned his gaze over the crowd several people took an involuntary step back at the expression on his face; rage, anger and in no mood to be questioned. In less than two minutes the room was cleared.

Left alone, with no guard, knight or friend, as the throne room doors were shut behind the last person, Uther stood alone in the center of the throne room, unmoving, staring at place where Morgana had sunk to her knees. He stood there for hours.