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Mar 8, 2013 18:05:52 GMT -5
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Post by mysery on Sept 17, 2011 10:49:26 GMT -5
 It had only been a few short months since Morgana had been rescued from Camelot by her sister. And rescued was the appropriate term. Even now, she still sometimes woke with the terrifying sensation that she could not breathe, and she scrambled for purchase until it sunk in that she was awake, that she was safe and Merlin could not hurt her here. It was these days that Morgause permitted her to spend time alone outside the haven that was their home. She understood better than most that Morgana would never truly heal from what Merlin did to her; that she would never forget it. Morgana never ventured far, and she knew that the Blood Guards would never be too distant from her, but it gave her the space she needed to bring everything back into focus.
On one of these trips, Morgana paused by the bank of one of the smaller rivers in the forests and sighed, claiming a seat on one of the fallen logs. The peace and serenity of the forests was amazing, and it never failed to calm her. Since leaving Camelot, and beginning her tutalage under Morgause, Morgana had found that her surroundings were not as inconsequential as she had once thought them to be. The forests were alive with nature, with power that she had never experienced before. She could almost lay her hands against a tree and feel it now, thanks to her sister. How could Uther despise something as amazing as magic? How could he preach its evils to the world, when he clearly had no understanding of it? Morgause was right. Uther was a blind fool.
Turning from those thoughts, and wanting to clense her mind of anything related to Uther Pendragon, Morgana moved and knelt by the water. Extending her hand like Morgause had shown her, she reached inside herself and tried to summon her magic. She had nowhere near the skill her sister had demonstrated on a regular basis, but Morgana knew with time her abilities would improve. Already she was garnering some small control over the visions that had plagued her for years. With her focus, some of the water rose from the river and floated up into her hand, curling around and in on itself as Morgana turned her hand over and smiled. Magic was such a wonderous thing.
As absorbed as the former lady of Camelot was, she failed to notice the approach of someone until a twig snapped loudly, and her concentration was broken. The water splashed back down and she whirled around. "Who goes there?" she demanded.
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Setting: Somewhere in Albion
Tag: Alistair
Timeline: In the One Year Gap
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Dec 8, 2019 12:43:35 GMT -5
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Post by Alistair on Sept 20, 2011 20:42:31 GMT -5
Alistair was acting as a scout for the moment for a rather large Druid camp a half dozen miles west from where he was now. He was branching out deeper so that he might be able to get a warning to them and let them get away before any of the bastard Pendragon knights came to kill them. Ever since the ward was stolen by a witch the king had turned very stone over in the kingdom looking for her and was killing very druid or magical creature that he found in the way.
Nothing had been this horrible among his people since the great purge. He had been twelve then, and his non-druid uncle had gotten him away out the back while the knights of Camelot of pulled his mother out the front door to be killed. His father also a non-magical sort loved his mother so much he had been willing to fight to the death to attempt to save her. In the end, they both died.
Years later, when he was a grown man he would return to Camelot. A return with a vengeance. First he had kidnapped the Princess of Gwent, from out of Camelot's castle in effort to embarrass the king and his knights. Then he'd kidnapped the king him self! Had it not been for the Princess of Gwent, he'd have killed the man. As it was, he returned the king, bruised and beaten but alive. It had not been easy, but the warrior had found a voice in his head that would not let him do it. That voice was Isadora. Women damned all plans to hell. They muddled the mind and she was proof.
He'd built a reputation as a foe of Camelot, and he was well known by name if not by face--yet he would be willing to be that after kidnapping the king most knew his face as well. Or the abouts of what it looked like.
He mind stopped talking as he heard slight moment ahead. Alistair had been raised in the woods. First by druids, then by a unsocial uncle. He knew how to move with out being heard. How to stand down wind. How to blend in with the trees rather then step out into the open.
It was a girl. He watched her sitting there for a moment; and was about to leave her where she sat but paused when she moved. She pulled water from the river with out a word. Magic.
Not wanting to frighten her, he stepped on a large stick to make it crack. As expected she jumped and instead of reacting as a druid--someone used to being hunted all their lives and running. She demanded as clear as day who was there. Stepping forward toward the river, staying even with her and not moving closer; he exposed himself. He said nothing other then "A traveler." Alistair wasn't a man of strong words.
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Post by mysery on Sept 25, 2011 6:13:36 GMT -5
Morgana narrowed her eyes at the 'traveler'. He didn't look to be a normal traveller, though granted Morgana knew she was in no way an expert on that area. She couldn't really fault him for being out here, especially since she herself was out here just for some time to herself. She hadn't even heard his approach. That spurred another thought in Morgana. He had all but snuck up on her, however unintentional as it may have been, so had he seen her little display a few moments ago? Instinctively, Morgana shifted a little uncertainly and moved a few steps away from the river.
Morgause wouldn't be happy if someone learned of her fledgling powers. She kept telling her that their plans depended upon the keeping of the secret that she had magic, and that her loyalties were no longer aligned with Camelot. And then of course there was that slight fear Morgana still harboured about Uther potentially finding out about her magic and walking her to her own execution. She'd had a few dreams like that as well since discovering her magic. And this traveler, as innocent as he may appear at that moment, could very well expose her to Camelot.
"Why are you out here alone?" Morgana asked, trying to soften her tone a little. The man didn't seem to have recognised her just yet. Most throughout the kingdom had probably heard of Uther's search for her, even Morgause herself had heard rumours of it, so the fact that the man didn't seem to know her meant he had to live under a rock at the very least.
As far as she could see he was alone, though Morgana knew she herself wasnt, but the blood guards wouldn't step in unless she needed help. They were under strict orders not to allow anything to happen to her.
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Setting: Somewhere in Albion
Tag: Alistair
Timeline: In the One Year Gap
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Dec 8, 2019 12:43:35 GMT -5
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Post by Alistair on Sept 25, 2011 18:59:53 GMT -5
Why was here out here? Alistair watched her for a long moment while deciding on if he could trust her or not. Druids by nature were not a trusting sort. They liked liked to live away from non-druids; and keep to themselves. Still; he had just witnessed her magic himself. He knew the difference between an enchantment one learned and when the magic filled you. The water and risen up to her hand and danced. That was no enchantment; not many hand that sort of control.
"The same as others." He answered in his deep rumble of a voice that vibrated out more then projected. He meant he was out here for the same reason as any magical sort. Magic made cities too dangerous. "I am Alistair." He gave his name; knowing it was well known thought out the kingdom.
He hoped it would tell the magical girl that she was safe and he would not harm her. He was known to fight for the druids and magical ones. Keep them safe if he could. He hated Uther Pendragon; and everything he had done to his family and the people out here. "I mean you no harm."
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Post by mysery on Oct 25, 2011 2:56:02 GMT -5
Alistair... Morgana knew that name, though at the moment it only flittered around the edges of her memory. She had heard it before, obviously in Camelot, but where? And why? She couldn't remember at the moment. Frowning, she tilted her head as she tried to place it. When he said he meant her no harm, is suddenly clicked. Uther. Alistair had been the name of the man, the druid, who had kidnapped Uther from Camelot. Her fear didn't dissipate though. He said he meant her no harm, and he had obviously seen her magic a moment ago, but did he know who she was?
And if he didn't, how would his attitude change if he were to discover it?
She was after all Lady Morgana of Camelot. Uther's ward. The druids probably regarded her in the same light as Arthur, though nothing could be further from the truth. She didn't align herself with Uther's beliefs on magic. In fact, she was entirely opposed to them. She had magic. How could she go along with the slaughter of her own kind?
Morgana swallowed as she regarded the man. If she didn't reveal her identity, he might puzzle it out and strike when she couldn't preempt it. At least if she told him, she would be prepared for anything he attempted. So, with that thought in mind, she lifted her chin a fraction. "I am Morgana," she said. "Lady Morgana of Camelot," she added for clarification.
Now was the time to see how he reacted to her. Would he pull back? Or would he try to strike at her? Either way, Morgana wasn't unarmed. She had a dagger in her cloak, and she knew how to use it. And she had magic. She could protect herself. She would protect herself.
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Setting: Somewhere in Albion
Tag: Alistair
Timeline: In the One Year Gap
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