Not exactly what you'd call a surprise

[rawr]

Scoffing, Morgause looked up from the book she had been pouring over upon hearing footsteps in the courtyard. Most of the priestesses were busy, off tending to whatever matters needed tending to, leaving the young woman to her own devices. She had already trained with the blood guards earlier in the day, and had since changed from her chainmail and breeches, back into the luxurious red silk dress that seemed to be so against the ways of her mentor. Nimueh. While Morgause would readily admit that she owed the elder woman her life, the two women were as different as night and day -- as different as two priestesses of the Old Religion could be. As far as Morgause was concerned, Nimueh was going soft in her old age -- despite the fact that she didn't seem to age physically at all -- all of her plans, every single plot to bring about Uther's downfall, they all hinged upon using some unrelated third party. And without fail, each and every plan was thwarted.

Were it up to her, Camelot would be taken by force, rather than through backhanded trickeries, and magics more befitting of street performers than priestesses of the Old Way. No, were it up to her -- as it would be some day, she was sure of it -- they would lay siege to Camelot, go on the offensive, burn and pillage until nothing remained to stand between them, and Uther's throne. Once the hierarchy had been razed to the ground, then and only then could magic properly return.

Giving a small sigh, the priestess closed the ancient tome before her, deciding to see who had returned to the Isle, though she had a fairly good idea already. Making her way out to the courtyard swiftly and gracefully, she was greeted by the long familiar sight of her mentor. Pale lips twisting into a smirk, she leaned against the door frame, tucking a stray lock of wavy golden hair behind her ear, eyeing Nimueh in silence for a few moments before finally speaking. "Went so well, then, did it?" tone dripping with sarcasm, it was clear that she had expected the latest of Nimueh's plans to fail just as the past several had. And judging by the High Priestesses' presence here, she hadn't been mistaken.

[Deleted]

Nimueh hated the taste of failure on her tongue. It was the most bitter, most unpleasant taste one could imagine, and it didn’t go away as soon as you rinsed your mouth. No, this taste would stay with her for some while to come, and there was nothing she could do about it – except distract herself with a new plan, a better one this time.
What had gone wrong? What had happened? Well, what an idiotic question, there was only one person, one obstacle continuing to thwart every single one of her plans. Merlin…
Snarling that name under her breath like the vilest curse, Nimueh started to pace around the grounds of the Isle of the Blessed, to which she just had returned. She had NO idea how he had done it, defeated the Wraith under her eyes, but it must have had something to do with that sword Uther used… No ordinary weapon could kill a wraith! Only a weapon…

Slowly it sank in and it made Nimueh even more furious. Of COURSE! That had been her missing link all along! Merlin was too inexperienced of a boy, an imbecile compared to her, to manage all of this alone. He had had help! And not just any help! Swords forged in a dragon’s breath didn’t usually grow on trees! That’s why she had thought her plan to be impeccable after all! Only that she wouldn’t have thought Merlin would really do what he had done: He had teamed up with Kilgarrah, that haughty creature! What did Kilgarrah see in that boy?! He had refused to help Nimueh herself and now he was helping that fledgling?! To what end, please? There was now so much to rack her brain over on top of this nagging feeling of failure, and it didn’t exactly raise her spirits.

Her mood also didn’t get any better when she was greeted by none other than Morgause with one of her most snarky comments. Goddess knows she had tried her best with that girl, but why she insisted on being trained by the blood guards, first behind everyone’s back and now with a consent granted only with gritted teeth, was beyond Nimueh. It was simply not the task of a future High Priestess to fight with sword and lance, she was supposed to be a spiritual leader, the vessel of magic, not a warrior queen. All that, however, would have been easily ignored, had she not developed the annoying habit of questioning orders she had been given and even questioning Nimueh’s decision. Her current comment just was another good example for how dearly she needed to be taught a lesson of subordination.

“It went excellent, until a matter occurred I had not forseen Morgause”, Nimueh stated curtly without a word of greeting, just like she had not been given one. “You wouldn’t have forseen it either, so please spare me your misplaced aloofness. Everyone acted exactly as I predicted they would, and Uther was as good as dead.”
Sadly, ‘as good as’ would have to suffice for another unknown period of time, until she had finally found a way to deal with Meddlesome Merlin.

[rawr]

"As good as dead," she repeated, smirk replaced with a look of faux pensiveness. "I see," she continued, feigning sincerity, though the mix of emotions in her dark eyes easily betrayed the truth. Disdain, displeasure, and just a hint of amusement shone in her gaze. "Then surely, our victory is assured! Magic will be returned to Camelot -- ah, but wait," she cut off, the facade of celebration falling from her features as she pushed off the wall, taking a few steps towards the center of the courtyard, towards her mentor whose foolish plans continually amounted to naught. "'As good as dead' doesn't do anyone any good. Least of all us," she spat, narrowing her eyes at the High Priestess.

Were she being entirely honest, Morgause would admit to mild surprise that the Wraith Nimueh had raised had been defeated -- after all, it was a notoriously difficult task to accomplish -- but given the other woman's track record lately... Well, the sight of the brunette pacing the courtyard of the Isle of the Blessed, muttering under her breath in poorly concealed anger and frustration had become a much more common sight as of late. And truth be told, Morgause was beginning to believe that her mentor was losing her touch...had she ever had it in the first place. She couldn't even remember the last time Nimueh had returned triumphant from one of her quests against Camelot. There would, of course, be the occasional intermediate phase, where she would return, pleased to report that things had begun as she had planned them, but when it came right down to it, her hopes were always dashed in the end. It was growing quite tiresome.

"And perhaps I would not have," she responded, giving a flippant shrug. After all, who could say how she would have reacted had she been the one in Nimueh's situation. But therein lay the fault in the High Priestess' reasoning. Morgause would never have chosen such pedantic, trite means to overthrow Uther. If the king was slain by magic, in what way would that bring about its return to the kingdom? She shook her head, features contorting into a scowl as she advanced ever closer to Nimueh. "Though you underestimate me if you think I would use the same methods as you insist upon, Nimueh," the elder woman's name fell from her lips like a curse, little better than the way any of the priestesses would speak the name of the King. "Perhaps you should leave this task to me in the future."

[Deleted]

The way Morgause reacted didn’t exactly to anything for Nimueh’s mood. When had that started, she wondered? The time when suddenly she had to explain her actions to another, an inferior priestess at that? Where did Morgause take that gall from? Was it because she could wave around with a sword and not cut off her foot in the process and now that made her feel above anyone else on this Isle? Well, if anything, Nimueh would soon show her how wrong she was. Morgause needed to learn her place more than anything! Nimueh’s mother, Eimhir, the former High Priestess, would have never allowed such an insubordination with her daughter – well, at least not openly. How long until Morgause started to defy her in front of everyone else? Judging by the face the young woman made already, that day wasn’t too far off. She had to put an end to this!

It was hard not to snap back at Morgause, lose her temper alltogether, but Nimueh was still calm enough to realize that this would only rise Morgause higher above her. The calm part in a conversation was always the winning part. And, anyway, what were Morgause’s comments to her? Stings of a needle, a dog howling at the moon!
“I’m sorry… did I miss the part when I asked for your opinion, Morgause?” she asked with fake nonchalance, refusing to sit down like the young priestess did, as that would have sent the message that she thought Morgause on the same level as her – which so not was the case! If she needed to learn her place, Nimueh better started now, with the little symbols that were often enough so much more telling than any words.

And what was that about underestimating Morgause?! In Nimueh’s eyes there was someone clearly at fault here, and it wasn’t her!!! It was Morgause who OVERestimated her abilities, not the other way around! It got harder and harder to stay calm, emotionless, but then Nimueh’s training for years and years hadn’t be for nothing. Morgause might think herself original, with her continuous jabs at Nimueh’s authority, but she would not be the first student trying to outdo or even overthrowher mistress.
“You are foolish to think you could ever do any better in this task than me, Morgause”, she replied, raising her eyebrows. “It is the hot temper of youth that blinds your mind. Camelot will not be won inside a day, or even if it once was, then it wouldn’t stay conquered for long. But if you wish…” she trailed off, an amused smile playing around her lips, as if she was watching the tantrum of a child. “Go and storm against the walls of Camelot with your precious sword. But then don’t complain if you get more than just a bloody nose.”