-24-

Guinevere stared at the Morgana who was growing paler under her scrutiny. She vaguely heard Elyan make introductions, she was completely focused on the last person she wanted consorting with her brother.

"...and as you are apparently, acquainted," Elyan said as he moved to stand beside Morgana. "I will leave you two together for a bit. I need to make a phone call."

It took all of Guinevere's self control not to rush at the witch and drag her away from Elyan. Her fingers itched to claw at Morgana, to give her the merest taste of how much pain she had caused her.

But this was not the time and her brother's home was most definitely not the place.

She looked on and watched as her brother pressed a kiss to Morgana's temple before walking back to her and putting a hand on her shoulder.

"I'll be back shortly," he said as he took his leave.

"Take your time," she smiled at her sibling. He may have been born before her in this time, but she could not seem to stop herself from feeling protective of Elyan. He had seen so much death and destruction when he was still in service that she strived to make his civilian life and peaceful as possible.

"Have a cuppa with Morgana? The kettle's already boiled."

Guinevere smiled again and turned to make sure that her brother was completely out of earshot before facing Morgana. It gave her satisfaction to see that the witch had not moved. She quite resembled a statue as she sat in the chair—pale, silent, and unmoving.

"Tea, Morgana?"

Guinevere moved to the stove, opening cabinets to get the things she would need to prepare the beverages.

"Yes, please." Morgana's voice came out in a whisper. "But, maybe I should prepare the tea..."

"I don't think so," Guinvere cut through the witch's sentence. "I don't trust you with anything I'm about to ingest."

Silence fell over the kitchen, broken only by the sounds of tea preparation. When she was done, Guinevere brought the mugs over to the counter, setting one in front of Morgana. She took the chair beside the witch, taking pleasure in how the other woman became even more rigid in her seat.

"Don't worry," Guinevere's tone was cordial, but she felt anything but friendly. "Poisoning was a talent I never developed. And if I remember, potions were your specialty."

Morgana remained unmoving.

"How long have you been seeing Elyan?"

Guinevere saw Morgana gulp.

"Less than a month," was her whispered reply. "Gwen, I didn't plan this..."

"Does he know?" Guinevere stared at Morgana.

The witch shook her head, her eyes not daring to break from the Queen's gaze.

"Keep it that way," Guinevere's tone was final and Morgana made no protest.

They were quiet for a while. Guinevere held her cup and sipped from it, grateful for the comfort offered by its warmth. She looked at Morgana and saw her big eyes that seemed too full of fear. Guinevere sighed and put her cup back on the table.

"Why are you doing this Morgana?" She asked the witch. "Camelot hurt you, too."

Morgana bowed her head and spoke in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

"Because I want to save whatever soul I have left," she said.

"After all the lives you took, you still believe there is one inside you?

It took a while for Morgana to respond.

"You taught me hope, my Lady."

Even in her rage at her former mistress, Guinevere felt the stirrings of compassion. She had been wronged, too, Morgana. She stood up to Uther when he had left her to her fate at Heingist's hands; she challenged his authority when everyone feared his rage. Morgana had strength, power, influence—if only she hadn't let herself be swayed because of desperation.

"So many died at your hands, Morgana," Guinevere sighed. "There were so many good people who didn't deserve your cruelty; families who only wanted a peaceful life."

Morgana's body seemed to shrink further at Guinevere's words.

"The same people who adored you as their Lady..." disbelief colored Guinevere's words. "How could you have been so heartless?"

"I offer no explaination, my Lady," Morgana's voice was broken and Guinevere was sure that she was weeping. "Only my regret."

Guinevere paused, unsure whether she should voice her rebuttal.

"Oh, Morgana," she breathed. "Your magic gave you the ability to create miracles, how could you have thought that it was better to destroy lives?"

She shook her head.

"I was so in awe of you." Guinevere spoke sadly, remembering her past life. "You were so composed, so sure of yourself."

Morgana's head snapped up as she looked at the Queen.

"I felt so...diminished next to you," she smiled in remembrance. "Your approval meant the world to me."

Guinevere's eyes grew misty as she recalled the times she spent with the woman whom she secretly regarded as a sister.

"I was so lost when you were gone from us," she confessed. "I would wake up every day and pray, just pray, that you would return. But when you did..."

She looked at the witch.

"I should have seen it, Morgana," Guinevere's eyes were glassy with tears. "I should have done more. I should have tried to save you, to turn you from darkness."

"Guinevere..." Morgana's voice was thick with emotion.

"But you should have trusted us Morgana," the Queen spoke with force. "You should have had more faith in us. Maybe our fates could have been changed."

Guinevere stood from the chair.

"And now it's just too late."

Elyan came back and the stare between the two women was broken.

"Gwen?" He called to his sister. "I'm preparing something to eat, will you join us?"

It took little effort for Guinevere to school her features into normalcy-she has had a lot of time to perfect it.

"Not today, I'm afraid," she smiled at her brother. "It's Sunday."

Elyan closed the gap between them and enfolded her into a hug.

"Next Sunday, then?" He and Gwen spent so little time as it is.

"Maybe," Gwen gave a small laugh. "I'll check my schedule."

Elyan chortled as well.

"Always so busy," he said as they moved apart. "When will you ever go out and have a good time? I know this one guy..."

"No, Elyan," she said with a grin. "I'm committed to living out the rest of my days as a spinster—you know that."

Elyan moved to stand next to Morgana. He put his arm around the woman's shoulders and gathered her to his side.

It took all of Guinevere's strength not to pull them apart. 'Not my brother!' She wanted to scream.

Instead she smiled, gave her brother a wink and turned around to leave the apartment.

Her heart may be in tatters, but to see Elyan so happy after being so broken after he had come home from service made her heart soar. Everyone deserved love. Guinevere just wasn't sure that he should have found it with her murderer.