See, we're making our way to action bit by bit. This'll be an adventure yet.

This one's a little short. Just a glimpse of back home.

Reviews are love. enjoy!

Camelot was dying.

Miles away from where Arthur and Merlin slept peacefully, past the countryside and woods, the rivers and the lakes,
the city was in flames.

Within a day, the castle had fallen. It was a disgrace to Uther, it's king and leader. He who had thought his city inpenetrable. The many wars and battles the kingdom had faced in the past - undefeated. Immovable. Unstoppable. He had not thought to consider an enemy within.

Morgana took the opportunity without hesatation.

She snatched the city for her own, along with the help of her sister, the sorceress Morgause. Magic had flown through the night and fought viciously and without mercy, destroying all in it's way. It burrowed its way into the minds of the brave, swaying loyalties and tainting memories. Soon she had an army bowing before her, prepared to die for her cause.
She and her sister brought the king to his knees, dishevelled and furious.

"You have no right to the crown!"

He had screeched and screamed at Morgause, still oblivious.

"No. But I do."

She watched as the realization hit him and his eyes turned to stone. He says nothing.
She feels no pity for him. Not after all he's done to her kind, her people. Not after the lies.

"After all, I am your daughter."

He has the decency to look ashamed, if only for a moment before the guards drag him away. He kicks and protests, shouting that he is the King, but the witch simply turns her back. As he had turned his on her. She will hold no sympathy for the man who had lied to her all her life, all the empty promises and false stories he had told. Morgana has him thrown down below, to watch his kingdom burn from the dungeons.
Where he belongs.

Now, the Queen of Camelot watches from her tower as the city battles below. Her eyes follow the figures of the knights of whom were loyal to Uther crash down, dying, fleeing. The cowards.

The people run, screaming. She doesn't understand why - do they not realize what she's done? She's brought them peace, freedom, given them the leader they deserve! No longer will those who are graced with the presence of magic be hunted like animals, no longer shall the innocent be slain due to prejudice and unjustified hate.
Uther didn't understand magic, and feared it because of that. It is easier to hate your fear than to face it.

An overwhelming feeling of satisfaction surges through her. She's done it. What has always been rightfully hers, hidden and stolen away, has been returned. The throne is hers, at last!
Queen Morgana of Camelot. She very much likes the sound of that.

The only problem was the prince.
A frown curves downward upon her face, obscuring her beauty, uglying it. The problem was ever present in her thoughts. She doubted he would return to the city, she knows he would not risk the life of his precious Merlin, but one can never be too sure.
Yes, it had been quite obvious, the relationship the two had developed. The sight had sickened her on many ocassions. Lord, the faces they made at each other...
Only a blind man could miss it. And Uther had always been blind to what mattered most, even if it sat in front of his nose. Or right by his side, where she had once sat.

The idea of ever giving up rights to the throne for another disgusted her, and the witch could feel her lip curve up in distaste. Arthur had had the kingdom in the palm of his hand, and he threw it away. Ungrateful fool, exactly like his father. Their father, she mused. She shakes her head of the idea, having long since rejected the truth. Her curls fall in front of her face, hiding it. Her eyes are slits, hatred brewing in their cores.
Father in blood, and blood alone.

Either way, the crown prince is an issue that needs to be dealt with swiftly. She would send guards out at first light. The two men couldn't have travelled far, not by foot. She would have them take the servant boy, Merlin, to Cenred's kingdom. Morgause could deal with him there however she saw fit - so long as the boy ceased to be a problem. Morgana had to admit, Morgause's treaty with the other kingdom did make for convenience. If nothing else, they could simply kill the other king if he became bothersome.
As for the prince, her half-brother...

She would bring him here. He would watch the city burn along side her, together.
Refuse, and he would burn with it.

Pushing it to the back of her mind, Morgana returned her gaze towards the - her - city below. A smile curls on her lips, narrows her eyes. Her once beautiful face is now mask of evil and hatred, all traces of kindness long since vanished.

She reveled in the flames, watched them dance before her. They reflect back, the image appearing imprinted on her glassy eyes, turning them red. In these eyes,

Camelot was born again.