Chapter 30: Heart's Desire

Morgana Pendragon stood in front of the mirror, mesmerised by her reflection. Now that she was wearing her formal red velvet gown, she truly looked like a princess, even a queen. However, through the eyes looking back at her, she could no longer see that fire that had once guided her every move. Instead there was a longing for something else, to get away from all of this and never come back. She felt trapped, like a tiny bird caught in a snare. It was as though the heavy fabric of the dress was strangling her. It was holding her back like chains, keeping her from flying to the one she loved. She wanted nothing more than to get rid of the dress and burn it.

The door swung opened. Morgause walked in, a candle in her hand. Morgana smiled in acknowledgement. Now her thoughts were no longer her own. She could not allow herself to wander or the high priestess would see right through her.

Smile. Everything is fine. You actually want this. You want to be Queen of Camelot.

"I was coming to wake you, but you are already up," said Morgause while lighting more candles in the chamber. "And you are dressed. You still look tired, sister. Did you get any sleep?"

Morgause's reflection swept besides Morgana's. Dressed in red and black lace, the high priestess was as beautiful as ever. But there was something else in her traits. Something new.

Morgana returned the smile a little weakly. "I slept very little. I must be nervous. It's all happening so fast. I do need help with the fastening of this dress."

Stand up straight. You want this. You want to be queen.

Morgause slid behind Morgana's back and began to tie the corset with delicate hands.

"I can't imagine what they've done to you, sister," Morgause said softly. "But it's all over now. Today is the first day of a new life for us and for our kind. Dawn is coming and nothing can stop it. Here, look!"

She glided towards the windows and opened the shutters at once. A pale light immediately filled the room. There was maybe just an hour left until dawn.

Hair. Just a little brush.

Morgana moved to her dresser and found her favourite comb. It wasn't her old chambers, but all of her possessions had been moved here upon her arrival.

A sudden roar filled the air and Morgause let out a cackle of excitement. The shadow that followed blocked out all of the light from the opened window. The shade twisted and twirled, and then it was gone. Morgause's hand brushed against the windowsill.

A bit of lotion for the curls. Brush again. She couldn't let her thoughts wander.

"Magnificent, aren't they?" whispered Morgause, her voice softer now. "Their master is equally so. You have just met him, but soon you will see. Those who do not love him fear him. He is more than a man. That spoiled boy-king Arthur Pendragon doesn't stand a chance."

Hair done. Now, earrings. The long ones with the red gem. The ones Uther gave me for my birthday.

Morgana glanced rapidly at Morgause's silhouette. Today more than ever, Morgause seemed more woman than warrior, which was somewhat of a change. The last rays of moonlight were making her hair shimmer like silver. She was staring at the scenery dreamily, tall and proud.

"It's just as we dreamed, sister," the witch murmured. "It is perfect. Arthur's little army will be crushed like bugs by our mighty dragons. What power could possibly stop us now?"

Don't think of an answer. Necklace. That's easy. The most expensive one. Only for very special occasions.

Morgana moved around the room, looking for that one particular necklace. All of her belongings were spread out around her. There were trunks of dresses, cloaks and shoes lined up against the wall. It had been quite a trial to find the right dress, one that Morgause would approve of. There were also several wooden boxes laid out on the long table. These were mostly perfumes and other elixirs to make her skin shinier or her lips redder. The boxes containing jewellery all had small locks and designs on the lid. The other boxes were opened to show their contents.

So many trivial things. Had she really been that shallow? How foolish it all seemed now.

"What's wrong, sister?" asked morgause all-of-a-sudden.

"I can't find the necklace I want to wear," Morgana replied without much thought. "The box has a large M on it."

Morgause was immediately by her side; not to help her in her search, but to hold her by the shoulders and look at her with concern.

"What is the matter, sister? I can feel that you are troubled. You know that you can tell me everything."

"I'm not troubled," Morgana said quickly, shaking her locks. "It's just… I'm happy for you. You and LeNoir. You deserve it."

Morgause's face lit up at once and she even blushed. At the same time, Morgana's heart almost jumped out of her chest. A wave of loneliness swept over her. She pushed the powerful feeling deep down.

"I see your mind now," Morgause whispered compassionately. "You wish that your situation was the same, that you were not alone. You are right: it is a blessing. I must admit that I did not see it coming. I'm as surprised as you are, sister."

"You deserve it," Morgana repeated almost absent-mindedly.

Where's that necklace? Where's that bloody necklace? Her thoughts were slipping. Get a hold of yourself, Morgana. It's almost time. Time for a drink.

"Is there anything else?" asked Morgause.

"Ah ha! It seems that I have found my heart's desire."

She lifted a wooden box with a large M on it. Morgause immediately helped her put on the necklace, laughing at Morgana's love for a mere ornament.

There was a sudden knock on the door. Morgause rushed to open it, probably hoping to see her lover. Instead, there was only one unhappy-looking guard with a bottle of wine.

"Lady Morgana requested this, my Lady," said the guard to Morgause.

The witch accepted the bottle and shut the door at once.

Morgana put on her best smile. "I thought we should have a drink to celebrate," she said cheerfully. "I had to use one of the guards to get it. It's from Arthur's personal stores."

Morgause merely looked amused by this and she set out to uncork the dusty bottle.

Perfumes, perfumes, perfumes, Morgana kept thinking, rummaging through her belongings on the long table. Perfectly inconspicuous among the harmless potions, there was a fine phial of clear liquid that she had taken from Gaius' chambers. The perfect hiding place. Quickly, she slid the phial into her hand and concealed it in the folds of her dress.

"I'm sorry I couldn't provide any decent servants for you, sister," said Morgause. "Though Arthur's servants are anything but decent."

Morgana felt the color drain out of her face.

"Dear sister! I do apologise. I did not mean to bring back such awful memories on such a glorious day. Do not think that I have forgotten what that cursed manservant did to you."

Corset too tight. Breathe.

"I want him to suffer." Her voice was barely a whisper.

"I know, sister," said Morgause, beaming. "You will have your vengeance. Merlin will suffer for what he has done. You have my word."

The words echoed in Morgana's mind and it seemed to give her a boost of confidence. Yes, Merlin was on her mind, but not for the reason that Morgause imagined.

Damn! Focus, Morgana!

Morgause came closer to brush a lock of hair away from Morgana's face. "This is my promise to you, sister," she whispered.

"And I promise you, sister," said Morgana with a smile, "that this day will bring everything that we wish for." She glanced at the bottle of wine. "But now, what I wish for is a glass of that wine."

After sharing a warm and affectionate smile, Morgause went back to opening the bottle and Morgana turned her attention back to her perfumes.

"We haven't any glasses," declared Morgause.

"Would you try to find some, while I figure out what perfume to use?"

The high priestess left the table: the perfect opportunity. The table was only a step away. Morgana swept silently. The content of the phial went into the bottle of wine. The empty phial disappeared instantly among the perfumes. Perfect moves.

"What shall we toast to?" said Morgause as she brought two glasses from a cabinet.

Morgana poured two glasses of red wine. "Love?" she offered. Her heart was beating so hard that she could hardly hear her own voice.

Morgause smiled warmly. "To love, then."

Together they lifted their glasses, and together they drank. Morgause would not have accepted it any other way. The high priestess drank almost half of the glass at once; Morgana, just a little sip on the tip of he lips. It was the only thing that she could do to avoid raising suspicions.

"Have you found your heart's desire among your perfumes then?" asked Morgause.

"I think I've always known my heart's desire," replied Morgana, trying to remain casual after drinking the poison.

"What will it be, then?" laughed Morgause.

The chuckle that followed was lost in a long and painful gasp. The witch's hand shut to her chest. She grabbed the table, missed it and fell on her knees, struggling to breathe.

Morgana could feel her throat tighten as well, but the effect would perhaps take longer to grab hold. However, her confidence did not extend beyond that; even in a small quantity, the poison would kill her.

"You… you tricked…," gasped Morgause. "You… changed… your heart."

Morgana kneeled to the ground beside the woman who had once nurtured her, cared for her. She held Morgause's struggling body on her lap, as Merlin had once done in similar circumstances.

"You're right," she said in a hoarse voice while caressing Morgause's hair. "My heart is no longer yours. It is mine, for whatever time it has left. I will die because of a bottle of wine! That guard was awfully late. Otherwise there would have been time to put the poison only into your glass, sister. What a poor Seer I make! I didn't see my own death."

Morgause suddenly grasped her arm. Her whole body was tense. She was drawing her last breath.

Suddenly, a ray of light caught Morgana's eyes. A warm sunbeam was touching her face. It was pale: the beginning of the new day. But for Morgana, it was the beginning of the end. Every breath was painful and contained less and less air. She felt light-headed and nauseous, yet she was calm. After all, she had wanted this. She had done this so that Merlin could stand a chance. It was all for Merlin.

"Look, sister," murmured Morgana. "The sun… is rising. We shall… see that day… together… after all."

Morgause's limp body fell from her lap. Morgana could feel her own limbs becoming heavier, but she did not fight it. She allowed her head to rest on the cold stone floor, overcome by pain. Each breath was like a dagger into her chest; or maybe the pain was in her heart because she knew that she would not see Merlin again.

A light flashed before her eyes. She heard young voices laughing; saw a glimpse of a house near a lake and a silhouette leaning on the doorframe.

Then the floor underneath her began to rumble and all became black.