Chapter Text
CHAPTER TWO:
She
“I was a romantic and sentimental creature, with a tendency towards solitude.” | The House of Spirits, Isabel Allende.
The boy, Merlin, made himself quite well-known in his few short weeks of being in Camelot. He had a knack for trouble and an inkling for getting into fights that he was not fit to win. Morgana, in a way, found it inspiring. Like a chuffed chipmunk defending its home, Merlin would give his entirety to protect Prince Arthur. He went so far as drinking something known to be poison, just to prove his point after only a week into his servitude.
Morgana thought him brave and incredibly stupid. She held him in high regards until the day he brought home a stray knight. One that caught the attention of a particular serving girl.
This knight’s name was Lancelot, according to the whispers of the serving girls she heard gushing in the corners of the corridor. Morgana hated him from the start. He was humble, handsome, and humorous. She avoided the knighthood trials just for peace of mind.
“Morgana!” Gwen called out to her, Morgana turned and watched as the serving girl ran towards her with a beaming grin.
“Gwen,” Morgana greeted, a small delighted smile lighting up her face. “I haven’t seen you all day.”
“I’ve been getting my duties done as fast as possible,” Gwen panted slightly. Sweat gathered at her temples and dotted the skin of her upper lip.
“What’s the occasion?” Morgana teased, crossing her arms and resisting the urge to dab the proof of Gwen’s exertion from her face.
“I-“ She looked at the toe of her boot, a subtle blush darkening her cheeks, “I wanted to watch the knight trials.”
The bubbly feeling that always arose in Morgana’s chest at Gwen’s presence dissipated. Her entire body deflated and an annoyingly bitter feeling scratched at her throat. Her first instinct was to decline, she wanted to invite Gwen to dine with her as they had so many times before.
She swallowed her feelings, tilting the corners of her mouth up to the smallest smile she could manage.
“Of course!” Morgana nodded her head furiously, “I wouldn’t dream of denying you.”
Gwen’s face dimpled at her words and she threw her arms around Morgana in a quick hug, thanking her and scurrying off.
Morgana watched her retreating form and something sank to the pit of her stomach. She thought, for a moment, that perhaps she was falling ill. There was a heaviness settling into her, it brought a headache to form behind her eyes. Though, it wasn’t like all the others she had felt before.
She trudged through the halls of the castle. Her footsteps echoed on the empty staircases - everyone was watching the trials. Morgana was so often alone, but had never before felt quite so lonely as she had lately.
Arthur was preoccupied with Merlin, they didn’t bicker and tease each other as often anymore. And Gwen…
Well, Gwen usually was at her side at any free moment. Morgana felt the absence of her friend as deeply as if she lost her left arm. What’s worse, she realized as she entered the library, is she was losing Gwen to a man.
Morgana wasn’t oblivious, though she wished she was. She saw the way Gwen’s pupils dilated whenever she gazed up at the wanna-be knight. She noticed the way she was lingering around Merlin and Gaius’ chambers since the new man came into frame. She detected, most of all, that Gwen was drawn to Lancelot like a moth to a flame. As though destiny was forcing them together.
Morgana’s thoughts were halted by the frustrated whispering of the record-keeper as she passed the library.
“This son-“ His crackling old voice muttered over and over again, “He does not exist, not this son.”
Morgana, intrigued, stepped through the doorway and cleared her throat.
“Are you alright?”
The librarian jumped, slamming the dusty book he was scouring through back down on the table.
“Yes, yes! Quite, M’lady,” He bowed.
Morgana looked at the records he was pouring over, “What are these for?”
The scribe looked away, a little ashamed. He wrung his hands together, his textured hands emitting a papery sound.
“I don’t believe that one of our knights is truly of noble birth,” He admitted. “But it is not my place to doubt our esteemed families!”
Morgana suctioned her tongue to her teeth, furrowing her brow. There were no men in the trials who did not hail from noble blood, Uther wouldn’t allow that. She wondered who would have the reason to lie, who would have the skills to fool the record keeper and the king for so long, who would be stupid enough to test the knowledge of the court?
She paused.
There was one person she knew who challenged the rules and decorum at every instance.
“Which knight do you believe is not of noble birth?” She tilted her head to read the family tree that the book was opened to.
The librarian looked down, a frown on his face.
“I’m sorry, I know it is not my place.”
Morgana fought the urge to roll her eyes at the way he pathetically rolled over in submission at every question instead of simply answering. She inhaled and did her best to reassure him.
“I can help soothe your suspicions.” She placed a hand on the weathered pages, covering the print of the tree. “Which man?”
“Lancelot,” He breathed.
Morgana bit her tongue and looked at the ceiling. Of course, the man Merlin couldn’t seem to separate himself from. He would be stupid enough to try and fool the king - he wasn’t even a good liar.
Morgana asked the scribe to keep his secrets to himself, promising that she would deal with the lies. His eyes lit up, realizing that Morgana believed him. This, would prove to be an issue later it seemed.
Without much more thought, she left the library to hunt down the boy and his fake-knight before anyone else could find out. The punishment for such a stunt would result in Lancelot being killed at worst, banished at best. As much as she disliked him, still she did not know why she hated him so, she didn’t want him hurt or gone.
His pain would be Gwen’s, and Gwen would leave with him if he asked her to. Morgana was sure of this.
She ran to the field where Arthur trained the knights. Her slippers caught on the stones, causing her to stumble more than once, and she made it to the green. Arthur was the only figure standing in the grass.
“Where is Merlin?” She demanded as she approached.
“Well, hello to you too, Morgana.” Arthur did not look up from the spears he was lining back up on a wooden stand.
“Arthur,” She frowned, grabbing his arm to get his attention. “Where?”
Arthur’s brow scrunched together when he saw her expression. “Hell if I know, he’s never where I need him.”
Morgana groaned and went searching for the serving boy and his new pet.
She scoured through the castle, hoping to stumble on one of them. She couldn’t even find Gwen. All hope was fading the longer and longer her searching went.
He was never found by Morgana. Reports of monsters attacking outlying villages sent Arthur out, Merlin and the knights went with him. Morgana only hoped that the record keeper kept his theories to himself and Merlin had forged a very believable lie.
The next evening, Morgana was witness to Lancelot’s official knighting ceremony. From her seat beside the king, she saw the way Gwen’s eyes shown with adoration as she watched the prince anoint Lancelot.
She picked at her fingernails, conflict stirring in her abdomen. Her mind was screaming that she needed to be happier for Gwen than anyone else. As her friend she should be supporting Gwen and her feelings, squealing and relishing over it the same way she had when she believed Gwen returned Merlin’s feelings.
Her heart, though, did nothing but ache. She did not understand why. Perhaps, she figured, it was the thought of Gwen leaving to be married. She’d be all alone if Gwen left, that must be the cause of her ever-souring mood.
“Arise Sir Lancelot!” Uther’s voice boomed over the crowds applause.
Morgana adjusted in her seat so that she could address Merlin who was standing just to her left.
“Who is this man?” She squinted up at him, “He seems to have come from nowhere.”
“I know,” Merlin laughed with a shrug, clapping for the man, “It’s been a bit of a surprise to all of us.”
Morgana sighed and watched the royal court celebrate.
As suspected, Lancelot was not a son of noble birth. The king had his own doubts it seemed and sent the birth document to the scribe who verified that it was faked. Luckily, he was only banished rather than executed. Apparently, Lancelot saved Arthur the night after his knighting ceremony which granted him amity from the highnesses.
Gwen was not taking his leaving well, Morgana saw it in her stance and the wrinkles in her furrowed brow.
When she entered her chambers, Gwen was standing at the window. Her eyes stayed focus on the ever-shrinking form of the knight who captured her heart for a couple of weeks.
Morgana frowned at the sight. Gwen was always so melancholy when she believed her heart to be broken. Maybe it was, maybe her heart was broken, but Morgana could only feel a little bad.
Mostly, she was glad to have Gwen to herself again.
“Gwen.”
No response.
“Guinevere?”
She hummed half-heartedly.
“Lancelot?” Morgana asked with a sigh, coming to stand beside her at the window.
That got her attention. Gwen looked back at Morgana with teary eyes and a red nose.
“Oh, yes.” Her chin quivered as she took a deep inhale through her nose.
“Come Gwen,” Morgana put a comforting hand on her shoulder, rubbing the fabric of her sleeve with her thumb. “We’ve a busy day ahead.”
Gwen’s head drooped low as she agreed and followed her lady away from the window.
<><><><>
Several days after Lancelot’s departure, Gwen was still grieving in her own way. Her work was a little slower, her thoughts a little less optimistic. She found it hard to serve at times which she thought was unfair to the Lady
Morgana who kept inquiring as to what was bothering her.
Gwen always shook her head and prayed to be left alone. Despite Morgana’s good-nature and attempts of showing friendship, Gwen wanted her to be silent. The universe has a sense humor, it seems -
The morning Morgana wouldn’t wake, Gwen felt a spike of terror wrack through her body. She called for Gaius who was just as clueless as the rest of the court.
She was tasked with fetching the king and telling him what happened. After being accused of witchcraft and being brought to her knees in front of the ruler, she wasn’t ready to stand before him again. This time with news that his beloved ward was in some sort of coma.
Despite her fear, she ran down the corridors towards the throne room. Her work boots slammed against the stone floor and caused people to jump out of her way.
“Move!” She shouted at a red-cloaked knight standing in the middle of the hallway. When the knight turned, she was already too close to stop. She barreled into Prince Arthur, knocking them both to the floor and expelling the air from her lungs.
“Guinevere!” Arthur gasped partly with shock partly with frustration, “What on earth are you doing?”
Tears pricked at her eyes. She caught herself with her hands, but she landed on them hard. Her knees would definitely be bruised within the next hour, and she felt the guilt eating away at her stomach.
“It’s Lady Morgana!” She cried out, gasping and holding back her tears.
Arthur’s body straightened, he stood and pulled Gwen with him. His face was stone serious, eyes alight with fear.
“What’s happened, Guinevere?”
The tears dripped down her cheeks as she explained. She was so scared, so confused. What could have happened between last night and that morning to cause this?
Arthur told her to go back to Morgana’s room, he would fetch his father. Gwen sprinted back to the lady’s chambers. Her heart clambering with every step; whether it be from the exercise or the terror coursing through her body, she couldn’t be sure.
Yesterday was a normal day. Gwen kept repeating those words to herself. Yesterday, nothing interesting happened in Camelot. Maybe that was the odd thing. She couldn’t be sure. Her senses were so dulled in her pouting over Lancelot. Was this her fault? Had she missed something?
She made it back to the room shortly before the king and the prince. The first thing she noticed were the flowers sitting on the table, the ones an admirer sent Morgana yesterday.
Gwen didn’t know it at the time, but when Morgana saw those flowers, she hoped they were from Gwen.
The king rushed to Morgana’s bedside and grasped onto her hand, silently begging for a reaction. Morgana’s cheeks were paling as the minutes grew, and Gaius continued to physically check what he could.
He shook his head after checking her pulse.
“Weak, but not irregular,” He muttered, feeling her throat for infection. He shook his head, there was no swelling.
“What is wrong with her, Gaius?” King Uther demanded with teary eyes.
“Her body seems to have started shutting down,” Gaius’ gaze was hard to read. Gwen watched on in fear that he would say the worst.
“Why?” Uther was angry, “What could cause such a thing?”
“I’m unsure, I will regularly monitor her, your highness.” Gaius returned to his chambers to try making a potent of some sort to awaken her.
Gwen was left in Morgana’s chambers with the king. She did her best to busy her shaking hands, but her mind kept drifting back to her lady.
When two days passed with no improvements, the king was beyond scared and angry. He was enraged and terrified. Every time Gaius entered the room to inspect her, Uther would shout at him the entire time.
“You have nothing! No answer to what this is!” Uther shouted as Gaius shook his head once more. No changes had been made except that the color in Morgana’s cheeks had disappeared immensely. If it weren’t for Gaius’s inspections, Gwen would have assumed she died days ago.
Part of her feared that was the case.
“I fear she may have swelling in her brain,” Gaius admitted. Uther’s eyes widened with fear.
“What caused it?” He asked loudly, though his voice was shaky.
“An infection, most likely. I will do what I can to remedy this, but…”
Uther waved Gaius away and returned to her bedside. Gwen, who had cleaned the lady’s chambers three times that day, followed after Gaius to see if he would want any help.
Gaius, however, didn’t notice her following. She was a step or two behind when Gaius caught up with Merlin on the stair landing.
“She’s all but dead, Merlin.” Gaius whispered to the servant. Gwen swallowed her grief and left the two of them. She returned to the king and lady.
“Sire,” She whispered. Uther was stroking Morgana’s forehead and looked up at Gwen. His eyes were red and bleary. They barely stayed open as he watched her.
“Yes, what is it?” He sniffed.
“I can watch her for a few hours while you get some rest,” She gave him a small, meek smile. “You’re tired, and I will come get you if her condition worsens.”
Uther looked down at Morgana lying in the bed. Her face paler than Gwen’s ever seen, her mouth fixed in a slight frown, and a light furrow in her brow. He bowed his head, lifting her hand to his mouth.
Uther pressed a chaste kiss to her knuckles and nodded at Gwen.
“I’ll rest,” He resolved, standing. He looked at Gwen, seeing her properly for the first time in years. “Thank you, for your loyalty to her.”
Gwen blushed lightly, not used to being addressed by the king directly.
“She values your friendship highly,” He continued. “I’m glad that she has you during this.”
Uther left with that sentiment. He didn’t say another word, leaving to get the rest he so clearly needed. Gwen sat in the stool he had been using and grabbed the lady’s hand.
“I’m so sorry,” The tears would not be held back any longer. They flowed freely as she wept over the mattress. “I’m so sorry, please don’t leave us M’lady.”
<><><><>
Morgana slept for a week straight. She had no recollection of that duration, nor did she have any other proof of time passing other than an empty stomach and drying lips that cracked when she spoke.
Her eyes opened to see the face of a man - a scarred, unfamiliar face. His eyes were dark, his smile when she opened her eyes was not one of compassion, but triumph.
Uther, in his moment of happiness, ambushed Morgana with a hug. Though, she could not be bothered to focus on him. Standing just behind him was Gwen, watching Morgana with a teary smile.
She wanted nothing more than to embrace her friend, but the king held her too close and too long.
Gwen left to notify Gaius and Morgana felt alone in a room of people.
-
Ever since that week, Morgana’s dreams had worsened. She has always had nightmares, they were caused by her headaches or they caused her headaches. Gaius did what he could to remedy them, but nothing worked well enough to quell them completely.
Though, they were never so bad as this.
She watched from above. Arthur’s body was submerged in crystal clear water, sinking deeper and deeper as she could do nothing but look on. His face grew lifeless, his features faded into the mud.
When she looked away, a woman was standing over the body of the prince as he drowned. A brunette woman in a brown dress, her eyes alight with malice. She grinned as he died, and when Morgana tried to scream she found herself sucking in water instead of air.
She jolted awake, another nightmare.
“Arthur!” She cried out, a final attempt to spare his life. It was only a dream, but it looked so real. It felt so real, like a vision.