Third Person's Point of View
Morgause had her arm looped around Morgana's waist, helping to guide her through the low doorway.
"How could he do this to me?" She whimpered, her hand pressed painfully to her stomach. The poison she'd ingested had been treated with an antidote, but it still left her feeling weak and sick.
"Men are cruel; they act only in their best interest."
"He was my friend. I trusted him." She helped her to sit on a small cot, frowning down at her with a pittying smile.
"That is a mistake you surely won't make again. Now, get some rest. I'll be back soon with some supper." Morgause smoothed a hand over her hair and helped her to lie down, leaving her with a kiss to the forehead.
Morgana pulled the blanket over her shoulder and tried to relax. The chambers she'd been left in were dark, and it felt as though she was closed off from the rest of the world. The only light offered to her was a torch on the far wall, though it was slowly burning out. She gazed around the room while she still could; there wasn't much of anything in it besides the cot she was resting upon.
A light tapping distracted her and she swung about, her eyes narrowed. Something cold and wet dripped onto her hand and she smeared it with a finger, staring at it in the increasingly dimming light. It was dark and thick, blood?
She looked up, and gasped sharply. There were roots, dripping with the substance that covered her hand, littering the ceiling.
"What is this?" she stood up from the cot, nearly slipping in a puddle of the tar. "Morgause!' she cried, stumbling toward the door. Her fingers wrapped around the handle to the door and she pushed, finding with panic that it stuck. She shoved at it weakly. "Let me out!"
She screamed and howled and called out for what seemed like hours. Her sister didn't so much as acknowledge her. She growled, slamming her fist against the wood. It was then she turned back to face the room, inching along the wall with her hands outstretched, feeling for any cracks or hidden doorways. Slowly, she made her way around; once, twice, with nothing to show for it. It was solid, no cracks, no fissures, no way out.
Her heart pounding, she sunk to the floor beside the door, drawing her knees to her chest. The torch fizzed and popped before abruptly dying out, leaving her in the middle of the blackness.
Alone.
"You are nothing. You are worth nothing." Uther's voice sounded like snakes hissing in her ear. "You are a disgusting creature of magic, a disgrace. My own ward, a witch. I will see you burnt at the stake!" he ran at her, like a charging bull.
She screamed out, falling to the floor, her hands over her ears.
"Morgana." She whirled around, the tattered skirts of her gown brushing over her ankles.
"Arthur?" He kneeled before her, smiling, his face illuminated by a light she could not see. "Come, follow me. I have a way out." he stood, running off to fast for her to follow.
"Arthur wait!" she got to her feet. "Arthur!"
"You're always yelling. It's one of the things I hate about you." he murmured. His voice echoed around her, like he was in all places at once.
"No. Don't say that." she whispered.
"Why not? It's true. Why would you ever think I cared for you? I've never said so. Even when we were children, I think I made it quite clear how I detested you. What makes you think anything's changed in all the years we've known one another?" She stayed quiet, arms crossed over her chest. He laughed then, long and loud and just as cheerful as she remembered. "Oh Morgana. Nothing between us was real. It was all an act, a facade, pretend. You are nothing but filth, you aren't worthy of love."
"Please stop!" she begged. "Just leave me alone."
"You deserve torment."
For one blissful moment it was quiet, and when she turned Arthur was gone. "Arthur?"
"No my lady. It's only me." Gwen smiled at her from where she stood by the door. In her hands she held a tied bouquet of flowers.
"Gwen." she sighed.
"Remember how I always brought you flowers, my lady?" she stepped forward. "You always took them for granted, didn't you?"
"No, never. Gwen you'll never understand how much that meant to me."
"Then why didn't you try harder to save my father?" It was as if she'd been slapped. "He was executed for witchcraft. You're a witch. You could've done something. You could have saved him, protected him, but you hid like a coward and let him die!"
"No Gwen! I- I didn't even know then. I swear."
"Liar!" Gwen threw the flowers to the floor. "You're a liar. And you will pay!"
"Please Gwen! Wait!" But her friend was gone, having dissipated in the blink of an eye. "Please."
"You'll never know how glad I am that I poisoned you."
A tear rolled down her cheek. "I thought you were my friend. How could you do that to me?"
"How could I not? You were a threat to everyone, to everything. A monster. A witch. You deserved it. You deserve everything you're going to get. You deserved death; I'm only dissapointed I couldn't give it to you sooner."
"Teine diaga. It will erase all doubts in her mind." Morgause's voice was soft as she peered through the iron bars, gazing at the bent form of her sister.
Morgana had left her cot and was crumpled against the wall, lying beneath the burnt out torch. The mandrake root had taken effect quickly; she'd heard her pleading screams the moment it had started. It broke her heart to hear her tortured so, but she knew it was necessary.
"And she will never stray?"
"Never."
Cenred tilted his head, confused. "But she knows this is your doing, she will not turn on you with this knowledge?"
"No. Once she is taken from this room and I seal our bond she won't remember a moment of this. It will seems as if it was all a dream, but the terrors she experiences will stay with her. Whenever she tries to think of anything good of those in Camelot she will be confronted with the horrors she's seen. Mandrake root can be cruel." He nodded, seemingly satisfied with her assurances.
"Very well then. I will be dining if you care to join me." He left swiftly up the stairs, leaving Morgause to stare worriedly into the dark room. She could hear her sister mumbling to herself, begging the hallucinations to cease their harassing.
"I hope you can forgive me."
It had been so long since she had spoken to or seen anyone who hadn't taunted her, called her names, or tortured her with their sharp words and cruel games. She'd been alone longer than she cared to remember, only receiving food and drink through a slot at the bottom of the door.
Her head was aching, and she craved the touch of a kind soul more than anything. The room had grown increasingly colder, and all she had for warmth was a scraggly blanket made of rough material that chafed at her skin and left it raw. She craved her chambers back in Camelot, with her soft sheets and comfortable bed.
But she knew now, there was no one who cared for her there any longer. They were all liars, pretenders who wanted nothing more than to see her dead or suffering. She would never again be taken in by their fine words or kind mannerisms. It was nothing more than a play they put on for their own amusement.
The sound of the door creaking open startled her and Morgana shivered, pressing herself further into the wall.
"Morgana?"
She looked up at the sound of her sister's soft, worried voice. Her head rising from her hands. "Morgause?"
"I'm here." she crouched in front of her, smiling kindly. "It's alright now."
"No, you don't understand, they won't stop yelling! Screaming at me, calling me horrible things, taunting me with their lies and hurtful words! I can't stand it any longer, I just want to be away from here."
Her sister soothed her with a hand to her hair, pulling her close, into her warm embrace. "Don't worry, I'm here for you. It's over now, you're going to be fine."
"I don't want to be alone anymore." She whimpered into her shoulder, hot tears blazing down her skin.
Morgause cooed to her quietly, helping her to her feet. "You are never alone."
Arthur and Merlin rode side by side, his barrage of knights riding a small distance behind as they carefully scouted the area. Merlin watched his friend with a worried gaze, taking in Arthur's locked jaw and stiff posture.
"You want to talk about it?"
"No."
"You are sure?"
"Yes I'm sure, that's why I said no."
"Sometimes you don't say what you really mean."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Exactly what I said."
"And what did you say?"
"You know what I said."
"Enough. What do you mean by saying I don't always say what I mean?"
Merlin laughed, "Now I don't know what you mean."
Arthur pulled his stallion to a jerking halt and turned to block his path. Merlin's horse squealed as it bumped into Arthur's, backing away nervously as Merlin kept laughing. "I just mean to say, that sometimes you don't like to express your true feelings."
"That's absurd, I express myself!" Arthur objected, moving back to a slow walk. Merlin rolled his eyes. "Fine, I admit sometimes I find it a bit difficult. It's just, father has me confused. Morgana betrayed all of us, she has magic, she sided with Morgause, and for God's sake she usurped the throne!"
"All good points."
"How could he ask me to bring her back? His intentions don't seem to be to lock her up, he says he just wants to talk to her. She ordered guards to fire into a crowd of innocent citizens. The fact that he seems to want to reason with her is beyond me." Arthur went quiet for a moment, the sounds of the forest moving around them filling up the silence.
"Perhaps he believes she is redeemable." Merlin murmured, keeping his sight trained solely between his horse's two velvety black ears to avoid seeing Arthur's reaction.
"Do you believe that?"
He shrugged, "I haven't known her as long as you have."
"She saw you as a friend, or at least she did. I just, I don't understand anything about this. How could she have turned on us? She's always been kind, and just. What could have happened to make her so eager to betray us? I understand her anger with father, but to go so far? I would never have thought her capable."
Merlin was silent, the pounding hooves of the knight's mounts growing closer.
"Your grace, I believe we may have found a trail." Sir Leon approached, stabbing a thumb in the direction they had come. Arthur nodded and the two wheeled their horses about, urging them into a swift gait after him.
As she woke, all Morgana could comprehend was the pounding pain her head. Her eyes flickered and opened, taking in the sight of the stone floor she was lying on. A hand rose to her temple and she rubbed gently, wincing at the contact.
Gingerly she stood up, only to be confronted by the sight of her sister's cold body. Motionless and still on the cot her eyes were closed, her hair stiff and grey in the dank light coming through the window.
Morgana sobbed once, a hand to her mouth. All the things she'd done, everything her sister had led her to do, flashed through her mind. She'd killed innocent, those people in the crowd, people she'd always spoken for in their defense.
"How could you?" she whispered. She couldn't bring herself to care that she was speaking to a corpse. "How could you do this to me?"
She stumbled away, her stomach twisting angrily. Her hands found the table and she pushed it away, the plants she'd put in the vase flying towards the floor as the table tipped over. The glass shattered and she fell forward onto her hands and knees, embedding it into her skin. She didn't bother to cry out at the pain of it; she was numb to everything but the cold sting of betrayal.
Her sister had used her, wielded her like she would a sword.
I did what I thought was best for you
How could this have been for the best? Leaving her alone to deal with the repercussions for what she'd done while unknowingly under the dark influence of her own sister. None of her actions had been her own, yet she could never return to Camelot.
She didn't bother to clean the blood from her hands as she stood, wiping angrily at her tears. Red smeared across her face and she walked out into the cold, her breathing ragged. She walked until the hovel was out of her sight and she stood in an empty clearing, just past a line of trees.
She held her hands out in front of her, her eyes glowing gold. Grass and dirt moved and lifted by her magic, crawling away as if it had a life force of it's own, forming a hole deep enough in the ground that it could be used as a grave.
"You think it's her?" Merlin asked, his fingers clenched around the reins so tightly his knuckles had turned white. Arthur was crouched on the ground, gazing down at the few footprints left in the damp earth. He stood, shrugging. "Could be. It's worth a shot."
He swung back into his saddle.
"Are you alright?" Arthur glanced at him, an irritated expression marring his face. "I mean, how are you going to deal with seeing her again?"
Arthur sighed. "I'm just going to, I suppose. I'll try and say as little to her as possible."
"Good tactic."
"What was that?"
"Nothing."
Arthur rolled his eyes as they broke into a trot. A small clearing was up ahead and they slowed, confusion paramount. "What's that?" A knight spoke up.
"A grave." Arthur answered. The weight of the stares his knights bestowed upon him was staggering.
"Morgause must be dead." Merlin offered.
"Then we will wait."
"Your grace?"
"The grave is not yet filled. More than likely she will return soon to bury her. Then, we will confront her." Arthur dismounted and walked his horse towards the cover of the trees, Merlin but a few small steps behind.
"Arthur, are you sure-"
"I don't see any other option, do you?" he turned to him, eyebrow raised. Merlin shook his head. "I will not let this opportunity pass by."
He nodded as they tied their horses, moving to the bushes to lie in wait. "Arthur-"
"Quiet. I hear something."
The clearing grew eerily still as Morgana came into view. She pulled Morgause's body -wrapped in blankets and tied with bundles of cloth- along behind her. More startling than her actions was her appearance, her face streaked with blood.