Small Blessings

[Arthur Pendragon]

This could not be happening. Arthur could do nothing but stare in shock. He felt numb, frozen in place. He could not move. He could not blink. All he could do was stare in horror at the scene before him. How could this be. Never had he expected to return to Camelot to this. Yes, he knew that Cenred getting a hold of the cup would have detrimental effects . . . but this. THIS. No. It could not be. How could one deny what they saw with their own eyes though? Arthur wished there was some shred of deception here. But he was he who had been deceived all along. They all had. Morgana. She had betrayed them all. She was a traitor. She was his sister. Arthur did not know which was more shocking. The way she had revealed herself, with his father -- their father -- on his knees before her. How could she do this? How could this be happening?

He knew that his father and her were at odds, but nothing could have prepared him for what he saw now. As he was hiding in the upper portion of the throne room, all he could do was stare. The only thing that provided him with the slightest comfort was that -- despite Elyan's assumption -- Guinevère was alive. The relief upon seeing her however was clouded by the shock of everything else. Morgana. She was a traitor. She was his sister. How could his father have kept such a huge truth from him? What else was he lying about? How could she be doing all this? Did she truly hate them so much, did she truly hate Arthur so much that she would overthrow the Pendragons? No. She was a Pendragon. This was very unsettling. Everything about this situation filled the prince with shock. With devastation. With . . . horror. Yes. That was a good way to describe it. It was a horrific sight indeed, one that he could not bare to watch, yet one that he could not turn away from either.

Could this be an enchantment? Arthur so desperately wanted to believe this, but his gut told him it was not, and that was what made it hurt all the more. He knew they had to leave, and yet he wanted to storm down there and demand answers. He wanted to confront her. He wanted to know how could do this. Why? How? When? WHY! Why had she done this? Why had his father lied to him? How could she do this? How could his father lie to him? This was all too much. He knew he had to leave, but could not bring his body to move. He was barley able to breath. He did not even acknowledge Merlin's presence behind him. His mind did not go to Elyan, Gwaine and Gaius who would be waiting for them. Nothing else mattered. He could not break from this moment. This moment, which would be the most devastating moment in his entire life.

How could Morgana betray them. How could his father lie to him. How could she be his sister.

_{Setting: Starts in the Castle, eventually extends to the Darkling Woods
Time of Day: Late at night
Timeline: At the very end of The Coming of Arthur I
Tag: Merlin Caradoc
Notes: Merlin needs to make Arthur snap out of it!}

[pie]

Merlin stared on hopelessly through the whole ordeal. Through Morgana declaring herself Uther's daughter, through her being crowned Queen... And the whole time, he could only imagine how everyone else felt at the revelation, at how Uther felt being betrayed by his daughter that he had cared so much about through all these years, at how Arthur felt, who, while he had thought of her as a sister, hadn't know she had been an actual one. Merlin was stung by Morgana's betrayal as well, he'd been for a while now, but he could only wonder at how Arthur felt. This was something completely new to him, and to find out in such a way had to be... horrible for him.

He had to admit, he was worried about the man. This whole time he had gone believing Morgana was good, while all along, she had been the opposite. Had been the epitome of evil throughout this whole drama. She'd returned to Camelot on the pretense that she had escaped Morgause, and even Merlin had believed her there for a while... but not all good things last. But she'd plotted against Uther for so long, and than when she had found out she was his daughter, had begun to move against Arthur as well, obviously in a plot to get the throne. Why else would she suddenly turn against him as well, especially when he had done nothing to her at all?

But they had to get out of here, he realized, snapping out of his daze and thoughts and looking over at Arthur. They had to get out of the throne room, had to get out of Camelot and back to the others so that they were safe and so that they could figure out some way to stop all of this madness, to save Camelot and their friends. They couldn't do that if they were dead. "Arthur," he whispered. The last thing they needed was for one of the many guards, Morgause, or Morgana to notice them lurking about up here! "Arthur, come on, we need to get out of here... it's dangerous." Extremely dangerous, but he didn't say that.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur didn't care. Well, he did but right now the shock was still consuming him. Still paralyzing him from moving or even responding to Merlin's urgency as he was rightfully telling him that they had to go. But Arthur could not -- as before -- bring himself to move. It was one of those horrible scenes that you did not want to see, but could not tear his gaze away from. Morgana. She . . . how could she do this. Would such a question ever be answered? What was she going to do in her self appointed position of power? Arthur was afraid to hear the answers to any of these questions. He did not want to leave. But he had to. Otherwise, she . . . no. She wouldn't kill him. And yet, here she was. Showing such little remorse for everything. Showing that she did not care that she brought the king to his knees and forced herself to be queen. She spoke with so much hatred, a tone of voice that would have sent a chill down Arthur's spine had he not felt so numb and frozen in place.

He did not reply to Merlin. He did not even turn his head in the slightest. He was . . . like a statue. Looking helplessly, defenselessly, devastatingly. He could not yell out in anger. He could not cry tears of pain. He just stared. His heart beating at such a rapid pace he was certain it was going to abruptly stop at some point. He felt a slight tremble fill his body. He did not know what emotion was the most dominating right now. There were too many to selectively place them. To categorize them. He didn't want to leave. But he knew he had to.

[[ Sorry its short! And anti-climactic! hahah just let me know if you need me to make him do something more other than stare! ]]