Gwen was weary and footsore by the time they reached their destination. They came upon the tower suddenly—it loomed up before them in the darkness. Morgana, pulling on the rope that bound Gwen's hands, led her past the large, arched entrance and around the back of the tower where there was a small door, nearly hidden among the stones. Gwen and Morgana climbed up and up into the tower, past door after door. Finally Morgana opened one of these and led Gwen into a comfortable room with a table and chairs, a bed, and a fireplace. Morgana cut Gwen's bonds and moved to light the fire. "Not so terrible, is it?" she said over her shoulder. Gwen, rubbing her wrists, made no answer, but wandered over to the wall, where a smaller table held a jumble of items—Morgana's personal belongings.
To her surprise, Gwen recognized many of them from the old days: the knife Arthur had given Morgana for her birthday, a necklace that was a present from Uther, the bracelet that Morgause had given her when they first met that kept away her nightmares. Under this, Gwen even saw a pincushion sewn for Morgana by Gwen herself. It was made of cheap materials, the only thing Gwen could afford in those days, and Morgana, she remembered, had put away the trimmed one that an admirer had given her and had used Gwen's pincushion, every day, to store the straight pins she used to arrange her costly gowns. Gwen felt tears spring to her eyes.
"The knights have been searching for you for a whole day, now," Morgana said, and the sound of her voice brought Gwen back to reality. Morgana was no longer her mistress and her friend: she was her enemy. How far her generous heart had fallen. Gwen took a deep breath and turned back to her former mistress. "They will lose our trail eventually: I brought you here by a secret way that only I know. But we must make sure they come here to find you."
"How will you do that?" Gwen asked stiffly.
"You remember my nightmares—how I woke screaming every night?" Morgana said, her eyes flashing and her mouth curling into a cruel smile. "I will send them a dream such as I had then: a vision of the tower. And they will come."
"He will know it's a trap," Gwen said calmly, standing straight and tall as the queen she was.
"Yes. He will. But he will still come."
Gwen swallowed. It was true. Arthur would certainly come for her. Despite everything that had happened, despite her betrayal of him with Lancelot, the memory of which still stung her cheeks with shame, Arthur loved her as dearly as she loved him. As she had never loved Lancelot. And Arthur would come.
"But first," Morgana said, "they must pass through the impenetrable forest." She smiled at Gwen. "We cannot make this too easy for them, can we?" She took Gwen's elbow and Gwen shook her off. Morgana gave her a sardonic smile and gestured toward the door on the other side of the room. "After you, my queen," she said mockingly.
"Where are you taking me?" Gwen asked as she climbed up the twisting stair.
"You'll find out."
At the top of the stair, Morgana opened a door and ushered Gwen through. The room in which she found herself was dark, without any firelight. As her eyes adjusted, she saw in the torchlight from the stair that the room was large and without any furniture. Instead, strange shapes hung from the ceiling: weirdly-formed roots, dripping with some kind of hideous black mud. "What is this place?" she breathed.
"Sleep well," Morgana said, and shut the door.
000
The knights had certainly not slept well the night before: Leon and Percival's nightmare had deeply disturbed them all.
And that lack of sleep hadn't helped today. It was getting dark, they seemed to be no closer to the end of the forest than they had been at noon, and now Arthur had found the bit of cloth that had been torn off of Gwaine's cloak hours before.
"We have gone around in a circle!" he said, his voice growing louder in frustration. He threw his sword point-first into the ground. "We have wasted an entire day!" He sank to the ground in defeat, and Elyan joined him.
"Lets make camp for the night," Leon suggested. "Get some rest and pick up fresh in the morning."
Arthur didn't respond. Merlin approached him. "I made you a promise. Remember?" Elyan looked up at him. "We will bring her home," he repeated, and went to help the others build a camp.
Gwaine cornered him as they were clearing a space under the trees. "So what are you planning?" Gwaine asked in an undertone, making sure that the other knights were out of earshot.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean what are you going to do to get us out of here? We've tried it Arthur's way and it isn't working."
"What makes you think I know how to get us out of here?"
Gwaine frowned. "But you promised Arthur we'd find Gwen. I thought that meant—you were going to help."
Merlin scowled. "I don't know what I could do that would help. Besides, it's too risky. Someone would see, or guess."
"But that's good, isn't it?" Gwaine asked, and Merlin looked at him like he was crazy. "I mean, the Dís said you had to get Arthur to accept magic. Think about it: you use magic to save Guinevere. Arthur will be so grateful for your help that he'll forgive you! It'll make him open to the idea." Merlin shook his head, looking down at his work. "You've got to do it sometime, right?" Gwaine continued. "And soon. Well, here's a great opportunity!"
"Would you STOP?" Merlin snapped. He and Gwaine glared at one another for a moment and then looked up. The other knights were staring at them. Merlin got up and moved away.
000
Morgana sat before the fire, tapping her finger impatiently on the table. She knew it would be at least another day before Arthur and the knights arrived, but she was getting sick of waiting. She had known when she concocted this plan that the Dark Tower, being made entirely of fear, would affect her as well. She had decided that if she used it as a weapon against others, it couldn't hurt her. But she hadn't counted on it making it so difficult to wait.
And meanwhile, her mind kept running over and over her vision of Emrys. To distract herself, she glanced around the room. There was very little there; the decorators obviously hadn't been at work in this tower. Her eyes alit on her table of belongings. She wasn't sure why she had brought them with her; usually she left them at whatever place was her base of operations. But she was sort of between plans at the moment…
She found herself gazing at them, remembering where she had gotten them. All of them gifts from people she had once considered friends. All those people who had rejected her when she had discovered her magic—when she had discovered herself. But that would never happen again. If they could not love her, at least they would fear her: they would hate her. They certainly could not be indifferent. Morgana smirked. She was sure she would in their thoughts every day: when they looked at the fortifications around Camelot, when they saw the empty chair of one who would never return again, whom she had killed. Yes, they would fear and hate her. She had set out to make them do so, and she had succeeded.
But had she really? She frowned. Mordred had not seemed afraid of her. He had seemed pitying. She stood up from her chair and paced around the room. Mordred knew more about Emrys than he let on, she was sure of it. And he had seemed so confident: so confident that she would lose. And wasn't he right? Yes, she had spread fear and destruction in her wake, had succeeded in keeping herself in Arthur's thoughts, had destroyed Uther… but so many of her plans did not succeed. She was not in control. Emrys was. And it made her afraid. She had decided, when she had elected to stay with Morgause, after Merlin had poisoned her, that she would learn magic, become as powerful as her sister, so that she need never fear again. Yet here she was, eaten up with terror at the thought of an adversary about whom she knew nothing.
No, that was not quite true. She knew one thing: the question Emrys was fated to ask her. "Is this what you wanted?" She feared that question above all else—because she feared the answer.
From the room above there was a shriek. At last. It was time to fetch some company for took a deep breath, smoothed down her dress, and headed up the stairs, fixing her face in her usual smirk: the smile that said she feared nothing, that she was in control.
TBC
AN: I feel like it's been a long time since I updated, but it hasn't really. It's just that I've had such an EVENTFUL week. I drove five hours, moved a bunch of furniture, locked myself out of my new apartment, drove five hours home, discovered that I had left my overnight bag there, hit a rabbit (first animal I've ever hit in 11 years of driving), and finally, was rear-ended by a van going 55 mph. I'm fine, but my car is totaled. Despite all this, I am feeling uncharacteristically chipper.
Anyway, don't worry: I'm still writing! And I have such fun stuff coming up! :)
Please review!
