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Chapter Text

Arthur's father told him to 'dress presentably' and make his way down to the main hall. 

So, he dressed in his best tunic, with his big red cape as well. He put his crown on, tilting it back so it wouldn't slide onto his eyes.

When he met with his father, he lead him to the big doors at the front of the castle, which were thrown open by guards. As they slowly walk down the stairs, two horses stop in front of them. On one, a man, in chainmail and armor, his sword at his hip, on the other, a little girl, about Arthur's age. The girl had long black hair with loose curls tied back with a ribbon of dark green silk. The man slid off his horse, then held his hands up to the little girl, who jumped off the horse and into his arms. The man set her on the ground and turned to Arthur and his father, bowing. The girl followed his lead a moment later.

"Gorlois." Uther said, spreading his arms wide to the man.

Gorlois smiled. "My Lord."

There was a strange sort of tension in the air; like an ancient grudge neither wanted to speak of but neither had truly forgiven. 

Uther looked down at Arthur. "You remember Gorlois, right?" 

Arthur shook his head. He didn't remember most people his father expected him to. If it weren't for Gaius' reassurances that it was normal for children not to remember things from many years prior, he would have thought he was going mad.

"No, I supposed he wouldn't. They were... how old were they?" Gorlois asked, looking down at the girl.

"They couldn't have been more than toddlers. Vivienne was still alive." 

Gorlois' face fell for a half-second, before brightening right back up. Arthur's father did the same thing whenever he asked about his mother, although usually instead of pretending to be happy, he just got angry. Perhaps being sad wasn't normal.

"What made us wait so long?" Gorlois asked through gritted teeth, and Arthur got the startling impression he knew exactly why.

Uther shrugged. "Life gets ahead of us. I'm always too busy training this one." He rustles Arthur's hair.

"Is he a good fighter?"

"Very." 

Arthur felt his chest puff out with joy.

"As is my Morgana." He smiled down at her, and she smiled back.

"...Really?" Uther asked.

"Yes. Perhaps the two of them could spar."

Arthur snorted. "I'm not fighting a girl."

Morgana scowled at him. "I don't want to fight you either. I don't fight cowards." She snapped.

Arthur's jaw dropped. No one had ever spoken to him that way. "I am not a coward!"

"Really? Because it sounds like you're to scared to fight me!"

Her father placed a hand on her shoulder. "Morgana. Why don't we settle in before challenging anyone here. Please?" He looked so tired.

"Yes, and you be respectful to our guests." Uther said. Arthur frowned. She was being disrespectful to him.

"Sorry father."

"Show the Lady Morgana to her room."

Arthur sighed, bowing. "Yes, father." he turned to Morgana. "Follow me, my lady."

Arthur guides Morgana up the stairs, and through the corridors. He pushes at the large, heavy door, but it doesn't budge. He takes a step back, looks at it, and begins pushing at it again.

Morgana leans against the wall. "Maybe it's locked."

"It shouldn't be."

"Well, do you have the keys?"

Arthur shook his head. 

Morgana groaned. "Here, let me try." She pushed on the door as well, but it still wouldn't move.

Arthur crouched down. "Maybe the hinges need to be oiled." That's how doors work, right?

Morgana glares down at him. "When was the last time anyone's stayed in this room?" 

"I don't know, a year or so?"

Morgana groaned, sliding down to sit against the door. "Are there going to be spiders in there?"

"Probably... we can send a servant in there to clear them out, if you're too scared."

Her cheeks went red. "I am not scared!"

"Of course not, my lady." 

"Prince Arthur? Lady Morgana? What are you two doing out here?" Gaius asked.

"We can't get the door open." Arthur answered.

Gaius shooed them away from the door, and pulled it open easily.

"Oh." Arthur said dumbly. Of course it's a pull door.

Morgana took a timid step in, looking around. "It... doesn't look old." She said.

"Of course not, my child. The servants clean every corner of the castle, whether it's being used, or not." Gaius said.

"Really?"

He nodded, and Morgana smiled gratefully.

"Ah, well. I'm going to go. I'll send a maid up here for you. I'll get you for dinner." He quickly turned down the hall.

Morgana sat down on the bed. 

"So, Lady Morgana. King Uther tells me you might be in need of my services?"

She frowned. "Maybe. What do you do?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself, did I?"

Morgana shook her head. Arthur seemed to know who he was, so she wasn't concerned, although whether she should trust Arthur was still up for debate. Anyone her father didn't trust, she didn't trust, and her father had spent the entirety of the journey to Camelot warning Morgana to act right, lest the King become angry with her. She saw the glares her father was giving to the King, and assumed this untrustworthiness had been passed down to his son.

"I am Gaius, the court physician. I take care of any and all ailments of the royal court."

She straightened her back. He thinks I'm in the royal court! "Well, I'm not sick."

"Your father tells me you struggle with sleep sometimes."

"Oh. Yes. Only a little bit, though."

"How bad is it?"

"I have a hard time falling asleep, and I have nightmares."

"Nightmares? About what?"

"Um, I don't know. Different things. They're mostly nonsense."

"Mostly?"

She shrugs. "Sometimes they scare me, even after I wake up. They feel so real."

"They often will. How often do you have these nightmares?"

"A lot, but... not every night. Maybe... maybe once or twice a month?"

Gaius nodded. "After dinner, I will deliver a potion to help you sleep."

"Thank you."

He smiled warmly. "Of course."

Servants brought Morgana's things to her room shortly after Gaius left. She had packed up all her belongings at her father's suggestion. She began to unpack them with the help of the maid that had been sent to her. She put her dresses in the wardrobe, gently took out her mother's jewelry box and placed it on the vanity, on which she also placed her clay dolls. She tucked her doll carved of wood by her father into her bed, along with the stitched-up horse that was stuffed with hay.

Morgana had a single sword of her own, which was dulled and blunted for practice. It was wrapped in leather, tied closed with a string of twine. She leaned it up on the wall beside her bed. After that, she grew bored and decided to take a walk on the palace grounds.

She intended to find her father, but no one would tell her where he was. Her maidservant followed her around like an anxious, lost duckling, leading her away from anywhere she wasn't meant to be. 

She found herself outside a big door with a few guards outside. 

"What's in there?" She asked the maid.

"Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about, dear."

Morgana frowned. "But what-"

"It's the war room." Arthur said from behind her. She turned around.

"Oh. I suppose my father's in there, then?"

He nods. "Do you need something or...?"

"No, I'm just bored." She sighed.

Arthur sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess... I could give you a tour, if you'd like." He sounded like he would rather boil alive. Morgana wonders if the king put him up to it.

"That would be wonderful, thank you." She said through a tight smile, even though she really had no desire to spend any more time with Arthur than necessary. But if he could play nice, so could she, surely.

Arthur showed her all parts of the palace, including the dining hall, the kitchen, and the physician's quarters. 

"This is where Gaius lives." He says, pushing the door open.

This was definitely the most interesting room yet. There were books upon books stacked everywhere in the room, and the tables were adorned with vials, some empty and some filled with thick, gross-looking liquids. There were herbs hanging in the corners of the room, filling it with a million scents at once. Morgana sat at a stool and looked at one of the open books. Arthur stood beside her, reading it over her shoulder.

"Cures for..." Arthur snorted, "Over-abundant ear and nose hair."

Morgana giggled a little.

"I bet I know who this is for..." Arthur mused to himself with a smirk.

"Who?"

"Oh, I shouldn't tell."

Morgana looked at him imploringly. Her father hadn't warned her against gossip, from what she had heard it was actually quite normal.

"But... I could show you. How does a tour of Camelot sound?"

Morgana perked up. That actually did sound fascinating! "I would appreciate that very much."

"I'm bored." Morgana practically whined. For a girl who held herself in such high regards, her decorum was... lacking.

Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Can we go in there?" She pointed towards the woods.

"Um, no. I'm not taking you in there." 

"I'll go in there by myself, then."

"What? No, are you crazy? You have no idea what's in there!" He grabbed her arm, yanking her back. His father will kill him if he loses this girl after barely a day of knowing her.

"Well, what's in there?"

"Monsters. Sorcerers. Druids."

Morgana furrowed her brow. "So?"

"So, if you don't want to die, you'll stay out of there."

"It can't be all bad. Have you been in there?"

"Yes."

"Well, then how dangerous can it be?" She tore herself out of his grip and continued into the forest. Arthur chased after her.

"Morgana." He said to her side.

"Arthur."

"Well, first of all that's Prince Arthur to you, and second of all-" He cut himself off as Morgana broke into a sprint in the forest. "Morgana!"

They had been in the forest for half an hour when they realized they were lost.

Morgana sat down on a fallen log, looking around. Her feet hurt.

"Um, Arthur?" Morgana said.

Arthur, who had stopped whining a few minutes into the forest, was picking at worms in the dirt. "Yeah?"

"We should head back, right?"

He looked up at her. "Probably."

"It's that way, right?"

"Um, I don't know. We took a few turns, didn't we?"

"I don't know!" She shouted. Arthur flinched.

"Don't yell at me!" He shouted back. There were tears springing in his eyes. Morgana only felt a little guilty.

"Don't yell at me!" She scolded, although she lowered her volume.

Arthur blinked at her, then looked back at the ground. "I can't believe you got us lost."

"How is this my fault?"

"How is this not your fault? I didn't even want to go in here in the first place! You were in front! This is your fault!"

Morgana bit her lip. We could die out here. The thought hit her suddenly. Tears began welling in her eyes. 

"Don't cry." Arthur muttered. "It's pathetic."

Morgana wiped at her eyes, kindly choosing not to bring up the boy's own tears not even a minute prior. "Sorry. Sorry."

Arthur looked up at the sky. "If that way's West, then that means Camelot is... that way." He pointed vaguely.

"Are you sure?"

"...Yes."

Morgana stood, brushing herself off. "People are probably looking for us, right? We'll be fine."

Arthur groaned. "They're looking for us. I'm going to be in so much trouble."

Morgana shrugged, walking so she was standing beside him. "I'll take the blame."

"You're a guest. It's my responsibility to keep you safe."

"Well," She looked down at herself, "I'm not injured as of yet, so I think you've done a pretty good job."

Arthur sniffed. "Alright. We should probably get going. We don't want to get stuck in here while it's dark." He looked over his shoulder into the distance, as if searching the tree line for something. Morgana looked too, but only saw trees.

When they found Arthur and Morgana, they were walking side by side, clinging onto each other as to not trip. Morgana's dress was drenched in mud, and there were little specks of dirt on both their faces.

Uther and Gorlois rushed to them. 

"Good lord." Uther muttered. "What got into you?" He snapped, shaking Arthur by his shoulders. He blinked up at him, then looked to Morgana.

"I ran into the forest." Morgana said.

"I followed her to keep her out of trouble." Arthur continued, looking up at Uther, who sighed, letting go of him.

"Don't you ever do anything like that ever again. Either of you."

They both nodded.

"Morgana, you have to promise you will not run off. Understand?" Gorlois asked.

Morgana nodded. "I know, I'm sorry."

They made their way back to the palace, with Arthur and Morgana on the horses and Uther and Gorlois walking (which took several glares from Gorlois, as Uther was about to let Arthur walk home as punishment). As Gorlois was helping Morgana of her horse he hesitated. He brushed her hair to the side.

"Oh, Morgana. You've got a little..."

Arthur snorted beside Uther.

"What did you do?" Uther whispered.

"What? What is it?" Morgana asked.

Gorlois plucked a long, pink worm off of Morgana's shoulder.

Morgana gagged, then looked to Arthur, who sprinted up the palace stairs.

"Arthur!" She screamed, chasing after him.

Uther stared after them, at a loss.

Gorlois laughed, patting Uther on the back. "Yeah, good luck with that."

"You are lucky I respect you as much as I do." He said through gritted teeth.

"You made your bed. Lie in it." Gorlois muttered to Uther, whose eyes narrowed in a challenge. Gorlois turned, ignoring the threat in the King's eyes. Uther, the bloodthirsty bastard he was, would take it as cowardice. But in Gorlois' book, any time he resisted to commit treason was a victory for him.

Chapter Text

Arthur knocked on Morgana's door.

"What?" Her tired voice came from the other side. It was quite late- or early, depending how you looked at it- it was still dark outside.

"I thought you might want to see your father off." He said, poking his head through the door.

Morgana sat up straight, letting out a quite un-lady-like squawk, then practically rolled out of bed.

Arthur rolled his eyes, stepping aside.

It was early morning, before the sun had even risen, when the knights began preparing themselves for battle, chattering mindlessly to distract themselves. Gorlois could see the fear on their faces. A lot of them wouldn't be coming home, they all knew that. There were always men who didn't come home.

Suddenly, the quiet chatter halted, and everyone was looking at the entrance.

Gorlois followed their gaze. Morgana was standing in the entrance, still in her nightgown, her little arms wrapped around her father's armor, Arthur at her side. And gods, how he wished Arthur had let Morgana sleep. Saying goodbye made it feel all the more real. He hadn't gone into battle since Morgana was born, because he didn't want her to grow up without him. But you can't deny the king. He'd think after all the years of service he had granted Uther he'd have more consideration for him, at least in the interest of not orphaning his daughter.

Gorlois smiled at Morgana. "Hey, poppet." He nodded to Arthur as well.

"I thought I could help you with your armor." She said tentatively, looking around at the other knights.

Gorlois shrugged, crouching so he was eye-level with Morgana. She put the pieces of the armor on, as efficient as a well-trained army. Uther continued giving orders.

"Once you cross the river, you'll be in druid territory. You must be careful. If all goes well, there will be no confrontation. They are not your targets. Do not seek them out. That being said, they are enemies of Camelot. Should they interfere with our mission, spare none."

Morgana froze, her breath hitching. She opened her mouth, turning to Uther, but Gorlois grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around. He shook his head. "Let me," he whispered, "Don't speak out against him. Please." He begged. He hoped she knew this was not just a right now rule, but an always rule.

Morgana nodded as Gorlois stood. "Uther, it would be better if we just cut through the mountains in the west. We would pass through much less enemy territory and-"

"It would take an extra two days, that is not time we have to spare."

"Uther, what does it matter if we take less time if we have half our original manpower?"

"My decision is final. You will go through the forest."

Gorlois shook his head. He looked down to Morgana. "Do you hear him?" He tried to make light of the situation, even as his heart pounded in his chest, blood rushing through his ears. He could barely hear the chuckles of the knights around him.

Morgana glared at Uther for as long as Gorlois would allow before he grabbed the top of her head and gently turned it away.

Gorlois smiled down at her, then looked back up at Uther, who was glaring at them.

Arthur, Morgana, and Uther saw the men off, watching as they got onto their horses and said their last goodbyes. A few people had gathered on the steps. Wives, children, brothers, sisters, and parents there to wave their families off.

Morgana slowly padded up to Gorlois and handed him his helmet.

"I'll be alright, Morgana." He said, kneeling and placing a hand on her shoulder.

"I know." She said bravely, holding her chin high.

"You be good for the king, alright? He's doing a lot for you."

"I know."

"Take care of yourself. Look after the king... and his son." He looked over at Arthur, who turned his nose up at the idea of needing to be looked after by a girl.

She wrinkled her nose. "Arthur's mean, though." She hoped he heard her. She tried to be nice to him, but he just was impossible to be nice to! His face was so... bully-able.

Gorlois shrugged, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I think he's just scared of you."

Arthur resisted the urge to march right over there and put them both in their places. He was not scared of her, and she did not need to look after him!

Gorlois looked at her. His eyes were shiny, the edges creased into crow's feet with his smile. He blinked and a fat tear rolled down his face. Morgana frowned, reaching up to wipe at it. Arthur looked away in respect, suddenly uncomfortable.

"Don't cry. It's only a few months." She'd never seen her father cry. Not that she can remember, anyway.

"I know, sweetheart. I just- I can't bear the thought of you having worms in your hair."

Morgana cringed. "Yuck. Me either."

Gorlois laughed, pulling her into a hug. "I love you, Morgana. Remember that... Stay brave." 

She sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "I'll try."

Gorlois stood and led Morgana to Uther. He squeezed the king's shoulder. "You take care of her, now."

"Of course." He said, dipping his head a little.

Gorlois then turned to Arthur, crouching down to be at his level. "Can you promise me to look after her while I'm gone?"

Arthur held back a scowl. "Yes, sir."

Gorlois smiled. "You'll be a good knight, Arthur." He looked up at Uther, "And an even better king."

Arthur's chest puffed up with pride.

Gorlois patted Morgana's head, and, without a word, got on his horse and rode away.

Morgana waved to him until he was out of sight, then sat on the step and buried her chin into her knees. Uther went inside, leaving Arthur and Morgana alone on the palace steps. Arthur stood next to her for a while, before realizing she wasn't going to move, and sat next to her.

"He'll be alright. My father tells me he is a very skilled warrior."

Morgana didn't answer, just continued to stare off into the distance.

Arthur tried to speak again, but found he had no words. I'm sorry. He wanted to say, I know how scary this is. The words died on his tongue.

Arthur just stretched his legs out in front of him and sat silently beside her. The other people who had sent their families off had already left, and the starry sky was beginning to give way to dawn.

They watched the sunrise together, and watched as the city slowly awoke.

Children's voices began to ring out, and suddenly doors were swinging open and closed, as people went off to work. A line to the water pump began to grow, and Arthur watched as women and children stood in the line, talking to each other. The children ran about, screaming and yelling in the way Arthur never could. His duty always came before everything. Came before fun, before play. His crown weighed so heavy on his head he could not simply enjoy himself.

Morgana was also watching the various morning routines taking place. Her eyes were locked on a woman who was setting up a cart where she was selling little trinkets. Nothing extravagant, some necklaces of clay beads on braided twine, wooden makeup brushes, and dried flowers.

"I've never seen the city this early." He said quietly.

"It's nice."

"Yeah."

Morgana's stomach grumbled loudly. Arthur laughed at her.

"Breakfast?" He offered.

She shrugged. "I'm not really hungry."

"Yes you are. You'll feel better after you eat something, I promise."

She glared at him a little. "Fine."

Uther was sitting at the head of the table when they entered. He glared at them. Morgana bowed her head. "Sorry, sir."

Plates were laid out in front of both the children, but neither made a move to eat. Arthur wasn't sure he could, not with Morgana sitting across from him looking so absolutely miserable. It made him feel almost guilty about picking on her the day prior. 

"Eat." Uther said, pushing his plate towards him. Arthur looked sickly down at his plate, but found he was too hungry to refuse the food outright. He practically inhaled his food, and when he looked up, Morgana was looking at him in disgust. Arthur smacked his lips and stuck his tongue out, fully aware there was still food on it.

Morgana made a sound of disgust and put her hand in front of her eyes.

"Careful, wouldn't want to actually taste the food." Morgana said sarcastically, her lip still curled in disgust as she ripped off a small piece of bread and ate it.

"You be careful, or else you'll get that ugly look on your face stuck there forever."

Morgana quickly fixed her expression, her face turning blank. "Is that what you did, Arthur? Or have you always looked so unfortunate?"

Arthur gawked at her. Morgana smiled a little, and ate a small piece of fruit. Arthur smirked, reaching across the table with his fork to try and grab a piece of meat. Morgana slapped him away, taking the piece he had targeted, and eating it quickly, a hint of victory in her eyes.

Arthur placed his fork onto his plate, then turned to his father, "Father. I am going out to train."

Uther nodded. "Very well. Take Morgana."

"What?"

"Take Morgana." He repeated.

Morgana looked at him with a smug look on her face, and he suddenly got the very un-princely urge to tackle her out of her chair. 

"Well, I uh- I wouldn't want to hurt her."

"Then don't." His father said. "Besides, you need some practice on living opponents."

"I do that already!" He argued, his face burning with embarrassment.

"Do you?"

"...Yes. On occasion."

His father waved him off. "Well, now you must spar with Morgana. And don't go running off into the woods, this time."

"Yes, sire."

"Very good. Off you go." He waved his hand and Morgana hopped off her chair and made her way to the door.

"Let me get ready!" She called behind her. Arthur groaned.

"Arthur." Uther's voice came from behind him. Arthur turned on his heel.

"Yes, father?"

"Wait for her."

"Of course, father."

"Good. And don't be so mean to her. She's the only friend you've got."

Arthur's face burned with embarrassment. "I have other friends! And she is not one of them! I've barely known her two days!"

"And yet you already bicker like siblings." Uther said over his drink, a far off look in his eyes.

Arthur scoffed. He was not a fan of his father when he got too thoughtful. He wasn't quite old enough to be wise, yet, in Arthur's very correct nine-year-old opinion.

"Tell her I'll be out on the hill by the knight's training grounds." He muttered, storming out of the room.

Morgana quickly threw on a pair of trousers and a tunic, then grabbed her practice sword. She put it into the sheath attached to her belt and tied her hair up as she ran down the stairs. She skidded to a stop outside the dining hall.

"Arthur is by the knight's training grounds. On the hill." Uther said.

Morgana nodded and ran outside. She didn't actually know where the knight's training grounds were, but she was sure she could find them.

Eventually, she did, and found Arthur practicing moves on a training dummy. He looked up at her, but didn't actually acknowledge her. She took her sword out, and began copying Arthur's movements on the training dummy beside him. Morgana almost laughed. When the knights did it, all in sync, it looked sophisticated, but with just her and Arthur doing it, neither even reaching to the dummy's hips, it looked like awful dance moves.

"Is this what you do all day?" She asked.

Arthur stayed silent for a few moments before answering. "No. I have tutors, too."

"Ah." She said, nodding. She wasn't really interested in his schedule, she was just bored, and the longer the silence dragged on the more anxious she grew for her father.

"What did you do... all day... back at home?" She could tell he was really struggling to have a conversation not centered around himself. How brave of him.

She shrugged. "I would help my father with his armor, sometimes train with his men. I had a governess."

"What do you learn?"

"How to cook, mend, sew, read. A little bit of arithmetic."

"No history?" He seemed genuinely shocked by this.

"What for? So I can learn from the mistakes of the past? I'm never going to be in a position of power to make such decisions, anyways." Though I'm sure I'd do much better than you. Besides, her father's court thought it improper for a girl to have any kind of education, let alone a course that rulers and noblemen took.

"Oh. Right.... You say you trained with your father's men?"

"Yes."

"He allowed you to?"

"Encouraged it. I have to be able to fend for myself, after all."

Arthur blinked at her. She wondered if he also knew how stupid it was that her father thought any amount of sword training would save her from- anything, really. She was a ten-year-old girl. "Yes, I suppose."

"Do you ever train with the knights of Camelot?" She asked.

"Sometimes."

"That must be cool."

"I guess."

"Are you going to be a knight one day?"

"Of course. I'm prince." His voice dropped a little, as if to sound more mature.

She shrugged.

There was a sudden commotion from the doors nearest them. They both startled, and Arthur grabbed Morgana's hand, pulling her up onto the hill overlooking to training grounds.

"What's going on?" She asked.

"The knights are coming out to train." He answered, dropping to sit on the ground. She sat beside him, and they watched as the knights joked around, pushing and hitting each other until Uther stepped out and began commanding them. Arthur watched them with such worship in his eyes.

"Are you going to train them one day?" Morgana asks.

Arthur's eyes light up with excitement. "Yes. I'm going to train them, and lead them into battle."

Morgana thought of her father. "Aren't you ever scared?"

"I'm never scared."

"You don't fear going into battle, knowing you might never come home?"

"No." He said thoughtfully. "I think... I think I'd rather die in battle, really. It's how all the greats go out. You don't remember the king who died of old age, but you remember the king who gave his life for his people." It's what Arthur had always been told, anyways. Better to die in battle than anywhere else.

Morgana pulled her knees to her chest. "We're all going to be forgotten someday. Why not just live a good life your loved ones will remember?"

"Well, how much will they truly remember?" Arthur said, a slight bitter tang in his voice. He didn't remember his mother. He's not even sure his father did. He was picking at the grass now, and Morgana put a little more distance between the two of them.

"Enough."

Arthur snorted. "Enough?"

"More than any stranger ever will. People might remember you for dying in battle. But will they remember everything else?" Will they remember the way my father spoke of my mother? Will they remember how he smiled at me when I would pick him flowers? Will they remember when he cut his finger, he used it to teach me how to bandage wounds? Will they remember the sound of his voice? Will I?

"What else is there to remember?"

Morgana rolled her eyes. He's so stupid. "Your destructive habits, for one thing." She said, nodding to the patch of now grassless dirt at Arthur's feet.

Arthur shoved her, and she fell over. She let herself lay there, looking up at the sky, when she felt Arthur's hands at her side.

"Hey, what are you-" She didn't manage to finish her sentence before she was pushed, sending her into a roll down the hill. The hill was so steep, she built up momentum so fast, she couldn't stop herself.

When her rolling finally slowed, and she was at the base of the hill, she looked up to see Arthur rolling towards her.

"Look out!" He shouted, his voice wavy and half-muffled from the rolling.

He knocked into Morgana right as she stood, sending her straight back to the ground. He laughed as he sat up, holding his head.

"What was that for?" She asked, pushing him.

Arthur shrugged, standing up and swaying a little. Morgana grabbed his shirt sleeve and pulled herself up by it. Arthur ripped his arm away.

"Careful! You'll rip it!"

"It could use a touch up, anyway." She said, plucking a leaf off his shoulder.

Arthur scoffed, pushing past her, making his way into the castle. Morgana scoffed, mocking him, then followed him.

"Stop following me." He snapped.

"I'm not, stupid. This is the only way inside."

"Go around."

"The castle?"

"Yeah, I don't care."

Idiot.

Chapter Text

Morgana had been with them for about two weeks, now.

And she was still as insufferable as before.

Uther had, for some reason, thought it was a great idea to put Morgana with Arthur for all his tutoring sessions, and she was, to put it kindly, a hag.

Not only had she apparently made it her life's goal to be better at him in his classes, but also at sword fighting.

It was infuriating.

Arthur wondered what sort of debt his father must have owed Gorlois to let that thing live with them.

When one of the knights said the castle needed a 'woman's touch' this is not what they meant!

Arthur had always been against his father remarrying, but he'd prefer it if it would get Morgana to go away.

She was an absolute horror.

Arthur had about zero decency and even less decorum, if that was possible.

He walked around the castle like he owned it- he might someday, but he certainly did not yet- and treated everyone, especially Morgana, like garbage.

And he was always glaring at her!

And then he'd get mad when she glared back, the brat!

If he wants to be remembered, she's sure he'll go down in history as the rudest thing to ever walk the earth!

She was a guest in Camelot. A guest who wanted to be there no more than he wanted her there. Maybe they could find some common ground on that, right?

Wrong!

What's even worse, her nightmares haven't gotten better, and she's got a persistent headache. She's named it Prince Arthur.

"Will you please. Stop. Glaring at each other." Uther asked. Well, demanded would be a better word. Kings don't ask, they demand, Arthur's always been told.

"Arthur ripped one of my dresses." Morgana said quickly.

"Arthur!"

"Morgana tried to stab me!"

"Yeah, and one day I will stab you if you keep bothering me!"

"Morgana!"

They both fell quiet, staring at their plates. Arthur slowly looked up at Morgana, who looked up as well, and started giggling. Morgana pressed her lips firmly together, even as their edges tugged upwards. 

Gaius had noticed, quite gleefully, that the children had been getting along quite nicely.

Or, well, perhaps 'getting along' wasn't quite the right word. More like hating each other less.

However, progress was progress.

He'd noticed the two becoming quite fond of each other not long after Morgana's arrival.

Of course, their forest escapade probably helped with the bonding, as did Uther forcing them to study and train together, as well as the reported laughing fit over breakfast a few weeks ago.

It seemed that the universe- or whatever powers that be- were on the side of Arthur and Morgana.

It wasn't very often Gaius could say he was fond of the universe's plans- it sometimes had a funny idea of the way things should turn out- however he quite appreciated its push for Arthur and Morgana's friendship. 

After all, it wasn't like either of them were extremely popular. Arthur was the prince, and had been trained since birth to kill. Most boys his age were only just beginning to train, and even that was a bit early. Morgana was new, and wasn't much fun to pick on, as she could give everything back tenfold, and that was all boys their age tended to want to do with girls. There also was an extreme lack children their age in the castle.

Because of this, they had to make do with what they had, which was, for all intents and purposes, each other.

They had come up with a game- when, Gaius hadn't the faintest clue- which they seemed to enjoy. Gaius was unsure of the rules, but they seemed to know them like the back of their hands, and abided by them quite dutifully.

Currently, Gaius feared he had been caught in the crossfire.

It was a hot summer afternoon, and the knights had gone out on a hunt. Most of the staff had retired to their chambers, or else to hide in some cool place in the palace, where they could pretend to be working if a nobleman stumbled in on them.

Gaius had been returning from the forest, freshly gathered herbs in his bag, when suddenly he heard whispering from an indent in the wall. There, under a sconce, stood the little Lady Morgana.

"Is Arthur there? Do you see him?" She whispered. Gaius peeked around the corner. Arthur was hiding similarly to Morgana, his foot peeking out from the indent. Gaius went back to Morgana. 

"I see him." He whispered, "Is he alright?"

Morgana nodded seriously, then slowly stepped out of the indent. She pulled a dulled sword from behind her back. "Go in front of me. Be my cover." She whispered.

Gaius blinked. "I'm not sure I'm allowed to-"

"Arthur got one of the cooks to distract me," She snapped, "It's fair."

Gaius straightened, and shrugged. What's the worst that can happen?

Morgana had leapt out at Arthur the moment he was in her sight. They began fighting, striking blow after blow, before wrestling each other to the ground. They were kicking and punching at each other, shouting things which Gaius wasn't sure of the meaning, but knew they certainly weren't kind.

He was just about to pull them away from each other when Morgana jabbed her pointer finger into the little dip on his neck above his sternum. She stood triumphantly, flexing her arms as if there were big muscles on them. She reached out a hand to help Arthur up, which he took, although begrudgingly. Morgana turned to Gaius, and stuck out her hand. Gaius shook it.

"Thank you for your help, Gaius."

Arthur went to a sconce, then to the window across from it, seemingly collecting something and shoving it in his pocket. Morgana fished out two small, green beads from her own pockets and placed them in the places Arthur had just gone.

"And my territory- mmph- grows." She said, going on her tip-toes to reach the window.

Gaius shook his head. "What's going on?"

"War." Morgana said simply.

The game goes like this:

Each of them started with (roughly) the same amount of territory. Arthur had the East side, Morgana, the West.

They marked their territories with objects of their claimed color; Arthur, red, for Camelot, Morgana, green, like the house of her father. (Colors that were close to their claimed color were also acceptable, like oranges or blues.) 

One could gain territory by winning a fight, which you do by making the other surrender, or by hitting what they had decided were 'lethal shots'. Lethal shots had to be hit with a body part, not swords, since they didn't want to actually hurt one another (most of the time).

Lethal shots included the temples (head was too big of a target area), the little gap between the collar bones (neck was also too big of an area), and anywhere that was arguably where the heart was. That was Morgana's favorite because she was very good at arguing.

During 'Peacetimes' no one could be attacked in their own territory, but you could attack the other person, if they were in your bit of the palace. (It started that there was no fighting at all, but Morgana found that unreasonable. She shared this opinion after ambushing Arthur in a stairwell.)

There was also 'Trucetimes', which Arthur said wasn't a real word, but it fit with all the other times, and Morgana wasn't going to let him mess that up. Trucetimes were when no fighting was permitted at all. This was when there were people around, such as Uther, knights, noblemen, or servants who were likely to snitch.

Then, there was Wartimes. Wartimes was both of their favorites. During Wartimes anywhere, including outside, which neither was allowed to claim, was fair ground, except for their marked 'safe spots' (their chambers, Gaius' chambers, the kitchens, the armory, and anywhere with fragile things they might knock over.)

Right now, they were technically at War, but Morgana had given up halfway up the hill, and Arthur didn't feel like fighting anymore, either.

So, they were lying next to each other, staring up at the sky. 

"That cloud looks like a bunny." Morgana said suddenly, pointing upwards.

Arthur squinted. "An ugly bunny, maybe."

She pushed him.

They stayed in silence for a long time, sitting in the grass, breathing in the fresh air. Arthur pointed out a butterfly, and Morgana picked up a ladybug.

They watched the knights train, studying their technique, the mistakes they made, and making careful note not to do those things.

And then it was nighttime.

Morgana hated nighttime.

She stalled as long as she could. She brushed her hair for so long, her arms began to ache. She got into a nightgown, but told her maid it was too tight. The next one, too big. The third one was too itchy. Eventually, she felt guilty for making the maid stay up and settled. She got into bed, doll clutched tightly to her chest, and closed her eyes.

Gaius had become accustomed to Morgana coming in at night. So accustomed, he began leaving his door unlocked. She was having nightmares more and more frequently, and they seemed to be getting scarier and scarier.

Morgana hadn't even said anything last night, just took a drought that he had left out for her, and settled herself into the little cot Gaius had put in his office.

He shook her gently awake.

Her eyes opened suddenly, sucking in a violent breath.

"It's just me, Morgana. What was it?"

She shook her head. "I couldn't see very well." She said.

Gaius hesitated. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, something was going on, and I couldn't see it."

That was odd. Most of her dreams before this had been quite fantastical, with hints of real-life tucked away in the corners. Obstructed vision during a dream isn't anything by itself, but, with Vivienne's past...

"Why exactly couldn't you see?"

"It was dark. I was running. Everyone was. I don't really remember much." She said apologetically.

Gaius sighed, nodding. He made his way over to his desk, where picked up a mostly blank journal, carefully ripping his notes out of it, and handing it to Morgana.

"I want you to write down every dream you have, good or bad, as soon as you wake up from them." He said.

Morgana looked at it quizzically, then shrugged and nodded. "Sure." She rubbed her eye, "I've gotta go, now. Arthur and I have training."

Gaius held back an objection, wishing her luck as he ushered her out the door. He didn't think she should be training, as exhausted as she was, but he'd tried to tell her that before, and had only gotten a glare in response.

Morgana was late to training. 

She was late, and she dragged her feet, and slumped her shoulders, and yawned, and tripped, and lost to Arthur.

Something was definitely wrong.

She winced, holding her head, when Arthur dropped his sword on the ground, the loud clang echoing around the armory. 

She had missed breakfast. Arthur had to eat breakfast alone with Uther.

It finally became too much for Arthur, when they sat at the top of the hill for lunch, and Morgana didn't eat any of it. 

"What is your problem?" He snapped, much harsher than he had meant to.

"I don't know." She said immediately. She didn't even yell back.

Arthur scowled. "Yes, you do. And you need to tell me."

"I don't."

"You do."

She glared at the ground for a while, before looking back up to him. "I haven't been sleeping. I... I get these nightmares, and they're really scary, and I just-" She sighed, shaking her head. "I just feel sick."

"Have you told Gaius?"

"A little bit."

"You have to tell him all of it."

"I don't want to."

"Why not, Morgana? This is important. What if something's-"

"I had a dream about Uther dying last night." She whispered.

"What?" He shouted. Morgana reached out to him, clambering to keep him quiet.

"Arthur, be quiet. You can't let anyone know, okay? I think... I don't know, I must just miss my father, or something, so I'm- messed up in the head right now. It will all go away soon, but I don't want to be sent to a madhouse, so you've got to keep it a secret!"

Arthur stared at her, blinking slowly. "Okay. Okay, sure."

"Thank you." She whispered, pulling her hands to her chest.

"Um, Morgana?"

"Hm?"

"I don't think that makes you crazy. I think you're right. It might just be you missing your father. You're-you're thinking a lot about death right now, and it's leaking into your dreams. Like a- like a leaky bucket."

"Yeah? Yeah. Mm-hm. Of course." She said, rocking back and forth slightly. 

"I wouldn't let anyone take you away." He said, speaking lowly, like he couldn't bear for anyone to hear the admission, "Even if you were crazy."

She laughed. "Thanks."

Uther had yelled at Morgana at dinner. It was unnecessary, really. She was tired, staring off into space, and Uther was talking to her. He snapped at her to get her attention, and she was brought back into the present.

His face twisted. He yelled at her for not paying attention, telling her how disrespectful it was.

He said he could have her hanged for that.

Arthur wasn't quite sure that was true, but his father did seem to have an affinity for hangings.

Morgana's face lost what little color it had, the only pigment being a slight green tint as her hand cradled her neck.

Arthur hadn't even realized he was glaring at his father until he turned to him, saying, "Arthur, get that nasty look off your face."

Arthur quickly looked back at the table, silent.

After dinner, Arthur walked Morgana to her chambers for bed. "I'm sorry, Morgana. He didn't mean it, it's just- well, he's stressed right now."

She nodded. "I know."

"Right." He stopped outside her door. "I'll see you tomorrow, then. Get some sleep."

Morgana nodded, slowly closing the door behind her.

Breakfast the next morning was quiet, the room filled with bitter tension (thicker than Arthur's thick skull).

The silence was interrupted by a knock at the door.

Uther frowned. "Enter." He said.

A young man opened the door, looking around cautiously. "I've got three urgent letters from Sir Gorlois?"

Morgana perked up. Her father had promised to write, but had so far not fulfilled the promise.

Uther nodded. "Who for?" 

The young man handed one to Arthur. "Prince Arthur," He bowed, holding one over his head, "King Uther," He stood, looking at the letter, "And... the Esteemed and Prestigious Lady Morgana? Erm, The Wise?"

Morgana shot her hand up. "For me!" 

The man laughed nervously, looking at Uther, who nodded. He handed her the letter, and she got to work tearing it open, before a servant could get to her with a letter opener. The letter read:

         To my Dearest Morgana,

I've missed you, these past few weeks. The boys here aren't nearly as smart as you, and they're so terribly awful at following orders. I haven't had a good meal in days. I would kill for one of Miss Maggie's stews, awful as they were. I trust you've been good for His Majesty, and I hope he's been good to you. The battle has been a tough one. I implore you not to marry a knight or soldier. There are so many men here who aren't getting back to their families. A fever has been passed back and forth between the men. It's hitting the younger ones particularly hard. One boy, just fourteen, has been bed-ridden for weeks. I'd send him home, except there isn't a safe route.  I'd return home if there was a safe route. Alas, there isn't, and our return home is postponed further. I am in great health, however. So, fret not. Stay strong, love.                                   

                                 All my love,

                                               Your father.

Morgana smiled, pressing the letter to her chest.

Arthur reached across the table. "What's yours say?"

She slapped his hand away. "None of your business!"

Arthur scoffed, standing and leaning over the table. "Just let me see."

"No! Absolutely not!" She stood, laughing as she backed out of Arthur's reach.

Arthur crawled under the table and grabbed her foot. She squealed, kicking at him.

Uther stood, clearing his throat. "I must go... read this in private." His letter was still unopened.

Arthur and Morgana quietly watched him leave the room. As the door closed behind him, Morgana shoved Arthur into the table, and ran out the room to the training grounds. Arthur followed.

Arthur hadn't expected a letter. Not really. 

         To the young Prince Arthur,

I apologize if I've stepped out of line for writing to you, I mean no offense, but it felt unfair to write to your father and my daughter, but not you. I want to ask you a few things, little things, things that your father is indebted to, and such, as are you.

I ask that you watch out for my daughter. You seem to be of great honor. You'll be a great man one day, and an even better king. So, I ask you to take on one responsibility among all your others. I know it will feel like a lot- possibly too much- but I would be forever grateful, as would Morgana.

My demands are not much; I merely ask that you keep her safe, and are always by her side, if not physically, then in spirit and morals. I will not be here forever, and she has not been exposed to the cruel ways of the world. I ask that you care for her. No matter what.

                Thank you,

                                  Sir Gorlois.

Uther stared at the letter. He'd been expecting one like it to come eventually, but not this soon. And certainly not this hateful.

Uther, we're dying. My men. Your knights. These boys Uther. We will not make it through the winter, if we make it through the fall. We have no resources. We are outnumbered, and outmatched. We are dying.

I had to write a letter to my daughter telling her that everything is alright when it is not. This is not fair. To her or me.

You knew this would happen, didn't you? You hoped for this.

Know this: no matter what happens, no matter what you tell her, no matter how you try to raise her, she will never be your daughter. I don't care that you fucked my wife, and I don't care that you've taken her in. You cannot take my daughter from me.

I hope that you die a slow and painful death. Soon, too, so that Arthur can take over for you- before you've poisoned his mind further.

And I hope that before you die, Arthur learns that Morgana is his sister, so he will know that you cheated on his mother, like the bastard that you are, and I hope he looks at you with the utmost hatred.

Chapter Text

Gaius was reading the most recent entries in Morgana's dream journal. 

She seems to be having dreams nearly every night, the poor thing.

The dream she had last night, however, was rather comical.

"Fairies and beautiful mermaids?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow.

She shrugged. "Not all my dreams are scary."

"And uh... what happened to Arthur? After he was dragged away by the slime-creatures."

"Oh, I dunno. I wasn't that worried about him, with the dancing monkey, and all."

Gaius smiled. He was happy to know that not all her dreams were horrible, prophetic nightmares.

The door burst open. Morgana gasped a little, and Gaius stealthily hid the journal in his robes. 

Arthur stood in the doorway, swaying a little on his feet. It was early in the morning- Morgana was becoming restless, going to bed late and waking up early- and Arthur shouldn't have been up yet.

"Arthur?" Gaius asked, moving towards him.

"I don't feel good." He said slowly, falling forwards into Gaius, who caught him by the arm.

Morgana leapt to her feet as Gaius felt Arthur's forehead. It was burning hot.

"Gaius?" She asked slowly.

"Go get Uther." He said to her.

Morgana nodded, rushing into the corridor as Gaius led Arthur to the cot she had been occupying.

"Arthur, what's wrong?"

Arthur shook his head. "Everything... hurts. I don't..." He groaned, rolling over and gagging. "I threw up in my room." He said slowly, sounding miserable, and a little embarrassed.

Gaius put a wet cloth on his forehead. "It's alright, my boy. I've got you."

Morgana ran through the corridors of the castle.

She spotted the king from across a hall, and shouted for him. Uther whipped around, looking like he was about to lecture her, before seeing her panicked disposition.

"King Uther. It's Arthur. He's- He's sick. He's with Gaius-"

Uther shoved her to the side, running in the direction she had just come from.

When Morgana got back to Gaius' quarters, Gaius was standing at his work table, mixing herbs into a tincture, and Uther was kneeling beside Arthur.

Morgana rushed to Gaius's side. "Is there anything I can do?"

"No, Morgana. Go to your room, please."

"Are you sure? Maybe I can-"

"Leave the man alone!" Uther yelled over his shoulder. Then, turning back to Arthur, he muttered, "Let him work."

"Father." Arthur said quietly, his voice rough.

Morgana stepped towards Uther, looking over his shoulder at Arthur. He was pale, his eyes half-closed. His hair was stuck to his forehead.

"Yes? Yes, what is it?" Uther asked quietly.

Arthur's lip trembled. "Please don't tell at her. I hate it when you tell at her."

Uther shook his head, opening his mouth before closing it.

Arthur turned his head to look at Morgana. He flipped his hand out, reaching for her. Morgana hesitantly stepped forward. She crouched next to the bed.

"How do you feel?" She asked. 

He groaned. "How do I look?"

"Awful." She laughed. "Like a sickly worm." She laughed a little.

Arthur scowled. "Well, I don't feel like a worm. Though, if I did, I'd put myself in your hair."

"I'd squash you."

"If you could stop screaming for long enough."

Morgana scoffed, lightly pushing his shoulder. Arthur smiled, closing his eyes.

"Ah-ah!" Gaius shouted from across the room. Uther and Morgana jumped. Arthur lazily opened his eyes. "Don't let him fall asleep!"

Morgana jumped up, snapping her fingers in front of his face.

Arthur swatted her hand away. He looked towards Gaius. "So..." He sniffed. "Do I have the flu?"

"I don't think so, Your Majesty. Hold on, let me-"

Gaius was cut off by Arthur shouting in pain. He rolled over, clutching his stomach.

Gaius rushes over to him. "It seems to be coming in waves." Gaius says to Uther. He hands Arthur the tincture, still in the bowl. "Drink."

Arthur tried to sit up, but his arms fell out from under him. He pants. "Yeah, yeah. Give me a minute, Gaius."

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his hands against his eyes. He slowly blinked them open and took the bowl, drinking it. "Ew." He groans. He lets his head fall back against the bed. "Can I sleep now?" He was blinking oddly, one closing before the other.

Gaius looked strained as he answered. "Yes."

Arthur nodded, closing his eyes.

Morgana stood, looking up at Gaius. "How bad is it?"

Gaius shakes his head. "It's an odd illness. It's come down very quickly, and no one in the castle has anything similar. As it seems right now, it might just be very bad food poisoning."

"I'll hang that damn cook." Uther growls from behind Morgana.

Morgana gasps, whirling around.

Gaius blinks at him. "I... wouldn't act so harshly, Sire. Accidents happen and-"

"He's the Prince of Camelot, Gaius. The only one. We cannot afford these types of accidents."

"Well, at the very least, just let me be sure of the cause, before you make any... hasty decisions."

"Fine." Uther muttered, spinning around and storming out of the door.

Gaius draped Morgana's cloak over her. "Best get ready for the day." He said.

Morgana furrowed her brow as she fastened the tie at the front of the cloak. "Why?"

"Well, you can't just wallow by the prince's side all day."

"But I can't go to class without Arthur." She laughed a little.

"Why not?"

Morgana's face fell as she realized Gaius was serious. "Um, I just... It's not right. Besides, all the teachers hate me." She ran her hands down her nightgown anxiously.

Gaius raised an eyebrow at her. She shrank under his gaze. "Try." Gaius demands.

Morgana sighs heavily, nodding and turning to leave, casting one last worrying look over her shoulder.

Morgana changed into pants and a tunic, skipping breakfast altogether and training instead. It was silly. This was silly. Their training was always silly.

Morgana climbed up the hill alone, leaning against the tree as she watched the knights train. It was boring. Nothing happened.

Morgana didn't bother changing into a dress before heading to her classes, just strut around the castle in her training clothes, dulled sword at her hip, hair frizzed and messy.

They were studying one of Arthur's great-great-great-great-grandfather's military tactics, which Morgana had never had much interest for, and now had even less patience for.

"He could've been outflanked. The opposing army was twice his size, they could've caught him by surprise and everyone would've died." Morgana said after nearly an hour of silence in which she was supposed to be reading, but was instead continuing her drawing from the previous lesson.

The tutor's eye twitched. "But, Lady Morgana, he was not outflanked, and became victorious-"

"What of his small, specialized army of mages? We haven't spoken about them much, but he writes about them a lot. They were very important, no?"

"They-"

"As well as the aid they had from that druid camp in the forest when they were about to starve-"

"Morgana!" He snapped. "This is my class, thank you very much. I've not mentioned the sorcerers because they are not relevant for Arthur, as he will never have them in his army."

Morgana scowled at him. 

The tutor stood, scooping up the books from Morgana's table and taking them away.

"Hey!" She shouted.

"This class is for Arthur. I don't even know why you bothered showing up."

Morgana threw her inkwell at the back of his head. "Neither do I!" She stormed out before she could get into trouble.

Gaius had managed to get Arthur's fever under control with a couple of tinctures, and his nausea had eased as well. He was sitting up in the bed, talking with Gaius about the new sword trick he'd learned when the door slammed open.

Both of them jumped, looking towards the door.

In it, stood the Lady Morgana, in trousers and a tunic, looking quite angry. Her face softened when she saw Arthur.

"Oh, good, Arthur. You're better." She marched over to him and sat at the foot of his bed, untying her hair as she ranted about their teacher, waving her arms around wildly.

Arthur rolled his eyes, yet listened dutifully, never once interrupting except to say, "He's a big prat, is what he is."

Gaius made the two children stew, as Morgana refused to go back to class until Arthur had made a full recovery. 

"I'm not sure what it was, Arthur. Perhaps over-exhertion?" Gaius said as he ladled stew into a bowl.

"Ha! He barely does anything except sit in his bum all day!" Morgana said, shoving him nearly of the bed.

Arthur sat up, shoving her back, hitting her head into the wall. Arthur retracted his hands, covering his mouth with them slightly. There was a small smile on his lips as he said, "Ooh, sorry, are you alright?"

Morgana rubbed the back of her head. "Ugh, yeah." There were tears springing in her eyes, but she wasn't going to make a fuss.

Gaius shook his head as he thought. "Your mother used to get bouts of nausea," he said thoughtfully, "perhaps it's genetic?"

"Bouts of nausea?" Arthur asked, eyes wide, head tilted, as if trying to soak up every last drop of information about his mother.

Gaius nodded. "She was... Not sickly, I wouldn't say, but she was prone to illness. She was perfectly healthy outside of the couple times a year when she would come down with these awful sicknesses, with no idea where they came from. They always cleared up on their own, though, not as quickly as this." He commented.

Arthur nodded thoughtfully. Morgana was biting her nails, eyes averted.

Gaius wondered if Morgana wanted to hear about Vivienne. "Your mother, Morgana-"

"I know about my mother." She snapped, then blinked, "Sorry," she said softly, "Didn't mean to snap." She laughed nervously.

"Your mother snored." Gaius said simply, in good humor.

Morgana paused, then laughed. "Really?"

"Yes, awfully so. She blamed it on your father, even when he wasn't around."

Morgana snorted. 

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Mm, yes, I can see it." He said, "You're definitely a snorer too." 

Morgana slapped his arm. "Am not!"

"Definitely are!"

"I am not! Gaius, do I snore?"

Gaius froze, feeling like a deer caught on a hunt. "Um, on occasion."

"Ha! I told you!" Arthur said.

Morgana lunged at him, but Gaius caught her before she could make impact.

"Please," he said tiredly, "Don't hurt my patient."

Morgana stuck her tongue out.

Over the next couple of days, Morgana stayed by Arthur's side, helping Gaius make tinctures, and even cleaning up after him when he got sick. As much as they feigned hating each other, it was undeniable how much Morgana worried and cared for Arthur. Arthur, who normally tried to tough through everything himself, who even now still tried to refuse Gaius' help, never once tried to protest against Morgana's aid. Each night, it took quite a lot of convincing to get Morgana to head to bed, even when it was long after the sun had set. Gaius understood her worries, and always assured her that Gaius would keep an eye on him throughout the night.

Then, Arthur got worse.

After about three days of what seemed to be a steady recovery, he crashed. His fever was reaching near fatal levels, his cough was getting worse, and he could no longer hold anything down, not even water. Gaius was starting to get concerned about the sickness spreading, and stopped accepting visitors. Everyone was understanding, except, of course, Morgana.

"Why can't I see him?" She pouted, trying to shove her way past Gaius and into the room.

"I don't want you to catch whatever Arthur has." Gaius says simply.

"Oh, but you can catch it?"

"I'm the court physician, it's my job-"

"Whatever he has, I've been around him enough that I would've got it by now, anyways." She snapped, kicking the wall.

"He's dead already, isn't he?" She asked, looking up at him through teary eyelashes.

Gaius stuttered, shocked by the question. "No-"

"He is!" Morgana screamed, taking his momentary silence as an answer. She threw herself at him, hitting and kicking him, trying to get past him. "Let me see him! Let me see him! Please!" She trailed off into incoherent sobs.

"Morgana!" Gaius snapped, pulling her out of her temporary hysteria. "Morgana, dear, when was the last time you slept?" Her eyes were red from crying, with deep, deep, blue bags under them, her speech was slurred, and she swayed a little on her feet when she stood.

Morgana simply shook her head. "I can't." She sobbed. "I only-" Her breath hitched. "I only have nightmares, now."

Gaius sighed. He'd feared that the stress would make her dreams worse. After her father first left for battle, she was having odd dreams and nightmares nearly every other night. Those slowly faded away as she got used to life in Camelot, until she was having whatever Morgana deemed as 'normal' amounts of nightmares and sleepless nights.

"I can give you a stronger drought." He offered.

She just wailed, collapsing in his arms.

Later that night, when Gaius gave her the drought, Morgana was already half asleep. It seems that she had stayed awake for as long as her little body would allow, and was beyond exhaustion. Gaius only hoped that the drought he had prepared for her would keep the nightmares at bay.

Morgana awoke in a forest. It wasn't nighttime anymore, there was sunlight shining through the thick leaves above. She stood up, looking around and brushing herself off.

She wasn't scared, just curious.

She walked for a long time, the ground cold yet soft in her bare feet, her nightgown never catching on a single bramble. It was nearly... Peaceful.

She stopped walking once she reached the edge of a clearing in the woods. The clearing was large, several meters across, and the entirety of it was surrounded by a thin line of mushrooms. 

Morgana carefully stepped over the mushrooms and into the clearing, careful not to crush any of the vegetation.

A small light floated towards Morgana, flitting around her head. "What's your name, dear?" The light asked, in an airy, female voice.

Morgana opened her mouth to answer, but instead of her own name, "Vivienne," tumbled out.

The light flitted around her head, before landing on her shoulder. Within the small ball of light was a small woman, with soft, delicate features and transparent wings. "What do you need, love?" She asked.

"A cure." Her voice echoed strangely in the clearing.

"For what?"

"An unknown illness. My brother is sick." She explained.

The fairy tutted. "Poor boy." She stepped off Morgana's shoulder, and flew into the woods, leaving Morgana behind. 

The fairy came back quickly, holding a white flower in her hand. "Grind the petals into a fine powder, then dust it over his nose and ears." She said cheerily.

Morgana took the flower in her hands. "Thank you." She mumbled, turning to leave.

Morgana blearily opened her eyes, stretching. She felt good, rested. Moreso than she had in a long time. She rolled over, grabbing her journal from the drawer in the nightstand and began recording her dream. It was already fleeting from her when she put the quill to the paper. She furrowed her brow.

Fairies. Flowers. A brother? Was all she could write.

She got out of bed, changing into her training clothes and grabbing the apology letter she'd written for the tutor a few nights prior. She took a few deep breaths, telling herself that everything was going to be okay. Today felt like a good day, she decided.

The corridor outside her room was cold, and empty, save for a single guard perched at her door. The last of which was... unusual.

"Hey." She said, nodding to the knight.

The knight nodded to her, holding his arm out so that it blocked her from moving forward. "Wait." He demanded.

Morgana scoffed, crossing her arms.

She could hear footsteps pounding.

She turned to look, and saw Uther and Gaius, led by a knight, making their way to her room. They barged in the door.

"Hey!" She shouted, rushing in after them.

Gaius was looking through her wardrobe as Uther looked under and around her bed, and the knight rummaged around her vanity.

"What on earth do you think you're doing?" She shouted, trying to sound in-control and grown-up, but instead sounding very young and whiny.

"We've found out that Arthur's been poisoned by magic." The king said.

Morgana squeaked. "Oh... is he... going to be alright?" She looked to Gaius. "Shouldn't you be with him?"

Gaius shook his head. "He's alright, he's resting."

"Oh..." Then she looked around, and stamped her foot. "Then why are you in my room?" She shouted.

Uther pushed past her to look behind her changing screen.

Morgana scowled, following him, stepping on the backs of his shoes. "This is an invasion of privacy, and I want to know why-"

Uther whirled around, arm outstretched, smacking across Morgana's arm and pushing her into the wall. "We need to make sure there's no poison in your room. Shut up and get out!" He yelled.

"Uther." Came Gaius' voice. "Calm down."

The king fumed. "I'll calm down when I have the head of whatever wench that dared poison my son on a stick!" He roared.

Gaius grabbed Morgana's arm and led her out of the room. Morgana's eyes were wide. He pet her hair gently.

"Go for a walk." He said.

Morgana looked up at him. "I don't know what his problem is." She pouted.

"He just... He doesn't want to lose Arthur, and he's stressed. You have to understand-" 

"I do understand!" Morgana cried. "I understand, and I'm not- not acting like this." She wiped at her face, which had become wet.

"Well, you did throw ink at a tutor a few days ago." Gaius said gently.

Morgana pressed her fists into her eyes, a strange howling sound clawing its way out of her throat. She didn't even dignify Gaius with a response, instead just pushed past him and stormed off.

When they were sure that Morgana's room was clear of any sorcery, Gaius returned to his chambers to check on the prince. Morgana was sitting outside the room, her back against the door, reading a book.

"Morgana." Gaius said.

Morgana looked up at him, bit her lip, and looked back down the book. "Yeah?" Her voice was high and meek.

Gaius sighed. He would address her outburst later. "May I?" He nodded towards the door.

She sighed, moving away from the door, but not standing. She looked into the room as Gaius walked in.

"And you're sure there's nothing I can do to help?" She asked.

"Quite." Gaius said. "I've administered the cure, and I've destroyed the magical items that made him sick. He should recover." Gaius says. He doesn't tell her about how strong the magic is. Doesn't tell her they might have been too late. He hasn't told anybody.

He closed the door behind him and checked on Arthur, laying his hand on his forehead, and replacing the wet cloths on his face and neck. Arthur was shivering.

When Gaius opened his door again, Morgana was standing there, just as he knew she would be.

"What made him sick?" She sniffed.

Gaius showed her a page in his book. "It was a cloth soaked in this mixture." Gaius said, pointing to the page that detailed how to make it.

Morgana read it. "It's just herbs and blood." She said, unimpressed.

"And magic." Gaius added.

She hummed, flipping the page over. "And you've made the cure?"

"Yes."

"How come he isn't better, then?"

"Well, it takes a while, and the magic has already soaked into his system-"

"He's been sick for a while, Gaius... How bad is it?"

"This magic is very strong, Morgana. The cure is fighting against it, but-"

"So you're saying he might not get better?"

Gaius shook his head. "No, that's not what I'm saying, I'm saying we just have to wait and see."

Morgana scoffed, rubbing her cheek against her shoulder. "I'm going to kill him once he's better."

Gaius snorted. "You do that, Morgana."

Nine and a half days after Arthur first got sick, there was still no news of recovery. Morgana's insomnia wasn't getting any better and her dreams were becoming stranger and more and more erratic. So was her sleep schedule.

She had waken up from a nap that she had- accidently- taken on the hill above the knights training grounds, and decided that she must, immediately, pester Gaius.

Upon her arrival at his chambers, however, there was a strange commotion. There were knights rushing around, servants running into the room with buckets of water, plates of food, piles of clean linen.

Perhaps Arthur's woken up. Morgana thought happily.

However, as she got closer, she could see the panic on everyone's faces. Gaius was standing next to a knight, pointing at pages on his herbology book and instructing him, face deadly serious.

"What's wrong?" Morgana asked.

Gaius ignored her, rushing back into his room. Morgana turned to the knight. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, yes," He said, brushing past her, "Just gathering herbs for Gaius." The knight was one of the younger ones, one that hadn't been sent into battle.

Morgana followed him out to the stables. "What's your name?" She asked innocently.

"Bedivere." He said, as he prepared his horse for travel.

"Bedivere, can I come with you?" 

He looked at her, eyes wide and frayed with nerves. "No, Lady Morgana, I'd rather you didn't."

Morgana's eye twitched as she took a deep breath. If her dreams were to be trusted, she needed to get into the woods, but she knew nobody would ever let her go alone. "Please?" She asked. She knew grown-ups, especially the younger ones, which hadn't had children of their own, didn't really know how to tell little kids no.

"Um, I don't- I don't know about that." He said nervously.

Morgana took a deep breath, squeezing her eyes and hitching her shoulders up to her ears, trying her best to fake-cry. "Please?"

The knight stuttered, looking around, panicked. "Um, um, fine, get a horse."

Morgana nodded, wiping her eyes. She'd been real-crying a lot these last few days, so fake-crying wasn't to hard for her.

Morgana left Sir Bedivere as soon as possible.

"I wanna go back." She said. 

Bedivere looked over his shoulder. He hadn't found any of Gaius' herbs yet.

"Um, can you hang on just a little longer?"

Morgana shook her head. "I have to go now."

Bedivere sighed. "I have to-" He gestured to the forest.

Morgana nodded. "Keep looking for plants for the prince. I'll make it back by myself."

"Are you sure?" He asked.

Morgana nodded kindly. 

Morgana began wandering around the woods on her horse, desperately looking for anything familiar. Despite the several dreams she'd had of her journey through the woods, she hadn't actually paid attention to how she got there.

She directed the horse deeper into the woods, until it wouldn't go any further.

Morgana frowned, urging the horse forward. The horse whinnied, refusing to move.

Morgana slid off the horse, eyeing the ground, thinking that she maybe stepped on something when she saw it.

A line of mushrooms. Morgana looked around, seeing the mushrooms extend into a ring. Morgana took a deep breath, stepping over the border.

Inside the ring, it wasn't clear like it had been in her dreams. It was covered in bushes and brush, with tall flowering plants and ferns. The air was buzzing with energy, and Morgana could feel the movement of every little bug, every flutter of a leaf. She could feel the ground vibrating with life, even through her shoes.

"Hello, little girl." A chorus of voices greeted her. 

Morgana jumped, looking around, searching for the source of the voices. "Hello?"

"What are you doing here, little girl?" The voices asked.

Morgana cleared her throat. "I need a cure for my brother. He's sick, and he's not getting better."

"Oh, poor thing." The voices say, echoing around the clearing, their different tones making an unsettling harmony. "What's your name? So we know who we're helping."

Morgana's done this enough times in her dreams that the lie come quickly and naturally. "Vivienne." She said, with a kind smile on her face.

"Vivienne." The voices whisper, sending shivers up her neck.

A small woman with green, fuzzy skin, almost like moss, and wings like a fly, floated over to her, a small white flower in her arms.

Morgana took the flower, bowing gratefully. "Thank you."

Morgana quickly left the fairy circle, carefully stepping over the line of mushrooms. She tripped when she was startled by a roar of outrage behind her.

"What is your real name, little girl?" The voices screamed together.

Morgana climbed onto her horse, which was all too eager to get out of there, and rode back to Camelot.

Gaius was standing over Arthur, pushing back his hair. His eyelids were heavy, his eyes bouncing all over the room. "Hold on, Arthur, just hold on." He was muttering. Hold on for what he hadn't any idea. The herbs he'd sent Bedivere for hadn't done anything yet. It was almost definitely too late.

There was a knock on the door. 

"Come in," Gaius said quietly. There was not much harm that could be done now; it didn't seem to be contagious, and Arthur was...

The door opened, and a little girl rushed in, marching her way to Gaius' work table. She carefully took the petals off of a delicate white flower, put it into a bowl, and began crushing it up.

Gaius sighed. "Morgana, what are you-"

"I saw it in my dream." She said quickly.

Gaius looked at the remainder of the flower. He gasped. "Morgana, where did you get this?"

She shook her head, bringing the bowl over to Arthur. She pressed her finger into the powder, and rubbed it over Arthur's nose and on the edge of his ears, sprinkling the remainder of it in his ear canal.

"How did you know to do this?" Gaius asked.

Morgana ignored him, grabbing Arthur's hand, and squeezing it.

Gaius sighed, reminding himself to talk with her about this later.

Arthur made a full recovery within a day. He was up and moving by the morning after Morgana brought him the flower, his only ailment a slight clogging of the ear.

Gaius and Uther were standing side by side in the courtyard, watching the two children play.

"It's a miracle." Uther said, shaking his head. Gaius and Morgana had decided not to tell anybody about the reason behind Arthur's recovery.

"It certainly was." Gaius agreed. The people of the citadel had been gossiping. There was now a very popular rumor that Arthur was being watched over by a mysterious being- to some, it was his late mother, to others, fate itself. Gaius wonders how they'd react if he told them is was really just a ten-year-old girl with anger issues, and a refusal to be told no.