How Far We've Come

[Arthur Pendragon]

Everything in the kingdom was slowly coming to order again. After Morgana's second tyrannical rein over the kingdom, the crops had been destroyed and the city was burned. Those who had lost their homes were seeking refuge in the castle. Thankfully, the food was able to be rationed and there would be no shortage so long as they were careful, until the next harvest where everything would grow again and replenish. Arthur would never understand her motives for doing what she did. Their recent confrontation after two years had not made things easier either. For whatever reason her magic had failed her and she had fled. Guinevère and Merlin were unable to catch up to her, but what mattered was that she was gone -- for now. Arthur knew that eventually she would return. And he would be ready for it. For whatever army she brought with them. Whether it was an immortal one, or an army led by such a ruthless man as the warlord Helios.

The hour was late now, but Arthur was walking through the streets to make sure everything was in order. He did not wish to take too long because . . . he had a wife waiting for him. A wife. The word itself still brought a smile to his lips. He was happily married, pushing aside the painful past because some things were more important. Isolde's death had shown him that; seeing how Tristan mourned for her had made Arthur realize that he could have lost her. Not only in the emotional sense but also in the physical sense. The thought had terrified him and was enough to forgive her and want to start a life together that was long overdue. So now, he had a wife and the kingdom a queen. Despite all the loss that so many had suffered this past year, the future was looking bright and promising.

As he walked the streets, clad in his armor, cape and his most prized possession -- in the form of a sword, Excalibur -- in his sword belt, he wandered the dark alleys of the city. Everything looked in order, until he saw a large covered cart. He paused and looked at her, disapproval filling him at a rapid pace. He knew what that was: a slave trader. He did not approve of such a business, especially within the city walls. There did not seem to be anyone around so Arthur approached the cart, and pulled off the sheet that covered it. His eyes scanned through the content of the cage, seeing only one woman. It took him a few moments to recognize her and when he did, his eyes widened and he took a step back, simultaneously drawing out his sword in front of him. It couldn't be . . . how . . . why . . . Arthur couldn't even demand an answer. He just locked eyes with her, holding Excalibur defensively in front of him, and tried to decide what was the best course of action to take.

_{Setting: Camelot city
Time of Day: Night time
Timeline: A few weeks after The Sword In The Stone II
What If: Morgana lost her memory after the Season 4 finale
Tag: Morgana}

[mpend]

Her journey here had been like something out of a nightmare. The ward of Uther Pendragon could not count the hours, days, weeks, she had spent in this cage, with things being thrown at her. Once upon a time she had been respected, and now she was hated; yet she had no idea what she had done so wrongly to deserve such a fate. Her master - though she called him that only in her mind, she refused to say so out loud - had acted like she was a great prize, and had said nothing but confusing things, cowing over the fact that he seemed to think that the 'King of Camelot' would be pleased by his 'finest catch yet'.

To know where they were travelling, however, had been a blessing. Surely within Camelot, she could find sanctuary? She could find Arthur, her brother in all but blood, and together they could try to understand what was happening, why she had been captured, why she was being treated like a criminal. Surely Arthur would protect her! But as they had continued onward, toward Camelot, Morgana's hope had faded, partially due to the way she had been treated by those around her. They had called her all manner of things, thrown things at her and eventually torn any sense of clothing off her, simply leaving her with a cloth to cover herself.

A cloth had been thrown over the cart itself at some point, blocking Morgana's view of the world, which suited her just fine - better not to know than to know and to want. It made time pass easier, not knowing what was happening, where one was going. She could drift in and out of sleep and consiousness with no particular thought but only one; that of finally returning home. At some point the cart had stopped, and Morgana, grateful for the rest from the constant bumping of the cart, had fallen into a light but exhausted sleep.

However, her moment of rest was interrupted sometime later when, quite unexpectedly, the cart was exposed to the outside world. Morgana's eyes snapped open, taking a moment to adjust to the dull light of flickering flames, and for a moment she looked about her dully, until her eyes caught upon the proudly dressed figure standing outside the cage. She watched in muted fascination as he pulled his sword from its place, not even recognising him to begin with, wondering if it was simply another of her master's men. "Death would be appreciated, if that is what you have come to do," she spoke in a low, tired and strained voice, the words sounding as though they had come from someone else all together.

[Arthur Pendragon]

She looked different. Last he saw her -- prior to the fearful expression that had consumed her features -- she stood tall and confident. He could see the corruption in her, after having been around it for so long. Now she looked worn, and weak, and . . . so many other things. Arthur was not about to lower his guard. Had she completely lost her magic? Is this why she looked to be this way? She had let it corrupt her and thought herself more powerful than all others. Not without it, did she feel like she was nothing? Arthur kept the sword about, not even moving an inch toward her. Either she had lost her magic abilities, or this was a trap. She was here to lure him closer so that she could kill him. The risk of the latter possibility raised his guard even more -- as if it wasn't already raised enough. Her words however made him wonder if it was the former. If she had nothing left, and now welcomed death?

"And what is it that you have come to do?" He asked in a stern and cautious voice. Not that he expected the truth from her. She had lied to them all for two years. Truth was not something he would expect to escape her lips. Never the less, he asked the question. Should he just continue to stand here? He was afraid to move out of her sight, afraid that she would be unleashed onto the streets once more and cause worse damage than she had in the past. Yet, standing here could just feed into her plan; the trap that she had set up for him. Needless to say, Arthur was torn as how to proceed. And perhaps it was the shock that was keeping him firmly in place.

[mpend]

Why would they not speak? In the gloominess of the light, she could not make out the features of the stranger, but she was aware of their gaze. How could she not be? In the silence, in the darkness, it was the only thing she was aware of. Perhaps they were here to laugh at her - have their sport with her, and then give her the death she so desired. For Morgana was beginning to lose faith in the chance of ever finding Camleot, of ever finding safety again. Uther and Arthur and all that they meant to her were slowly fading from her mind, and though she clung to the memory, it was slowly but surely fading.

Even when the man spoke, the voice did not register. "Die," was Morgana's reply, sure but at the same time wary. "If you have had your fill of me, then perhaps you can leave me to my-" but her voice cut off, as suddenly, she caught sight of the Pendragon sign upon the man's chest. Could it be...? But she crawled closer, and slowly the features of the man's face came to sight. "Arthur?" She breathed, barely daring to hope.

[Arthur Pendragon]

"Arthur?" . . . Oh she was good. The look of confusion and uncertainty on her face, that same soft tone she had once used with him . . . she was good indeed. And why shouldn't she be? She had played everyone for two years. One year of her 'disappearance' and the year of her return where she had manipulated every single person in the castle. He never would have thought that the Morgana he knew and loved was capable of doing such a thing. But she was no longer that woman. He had hoped for weeks after her first tyrannical rein, that she would somehow realize her mistake and return to them. But it had been foolish and naive for him to think so. Yet, he still hadn't learned his lesson for then there was Agravaine's betrayal. Another highly unexpected turn of events. Agravaine had one of the strong tools of manipulation though, and that was using Arthur's mother. Claiming that he made a promise to her, swearing on her name that he was not a traitor . . . that was what had made Arthur ignore everyone's warnings.

Because, what kind of twisted man used his own sister, his nephew's mother, to swear on and then betray? The thought sickened Arthur. So needless to say, he was not convinced of Morgana's attempt to appear like the little innocent lost and confused woman she had appeared to be after her return to Camelot; claiming to have been held captive. When it was her own will that kept her there. Arthur's expression did not soften. In fact, he was more alert than ever. "Stop the act Morgana," he said in a stern voice. He was sick and tired of her attempts to play the innocent woman when she proved to be nothing less than the villain. "You're not fooling anyone." He was just waiting for her now. That smirk that would take over her features. Perhaps the raising of her hand to throw him back. He braced himself for whatever she had planned for him . . . for he knew that no matter what it was, it wasn't going to be good.

[mpend]

Tears rose to the brunette's eyes at the tone Arthur confronted her with. It was almost as though he did not trust her, though she did not know what she had done to deserve such a reaction from the man she thought of as a brother. "Act?" she queried, her voice trembling, her body shaking. "Arthur, please..." A door slammed somewhere near by, and Morgana let out a soft cry of involutary fear, shaking as she shifted back into the darkness, whimpering softly, terrified that it might be the slave driver.

Her breathing became laboured as she trembled in the cold night, and Morgana let out a soft sob, recognising the fact that Arthur was not about to help her, for some reason she did not understand. "Please, Arthur..." she repeated, her voice so weak it did not seem like her own.

[Arthur Pendragon]

She was not only good . . . she was very good. And he was not going to fall for it again. He had fell for it for two years. He had fallen for the act from his uncle for one year. He was not going to be that naive fool any longer. He knew that he should run her through right now. That she should pay for all that she had done to people; all the innocent lives she had claimed. Yet . . . he couldn't. After her first tyrannical rein, he knew he would never be able to kill her. He feared as much. That it would be far too difficult to claim the life of the woman that he had grown up with and loved. Especially like this. He would say that she was unarmed, but she possessed magic. Unless, as their recent confrontation showed, her magic failed her. Somehow left her capabilities. But still . . . he could not kill her. It was why he had lowered his sword when they had confronted each other in the throne room.

Why he had not tried to stab her then and there but instead, gave her opportunity to flee. Not that he wanted her to escape. Hell, he didn't even know what he would do if he had caught her. Right now, he should kill her. But . . . he just could not bring himself to do it. That did not mean he was about lower his weapon or his guard. "Do you honestly expect me to believe your act of weakness Morgana?" Looking all pitiful and disheveled. "I may have been a fool in the past, but I will not make that same mistake again." Not with her. For he was not going to fall for her tricks and manipulations ever again. "Why have you come back?" He demanded. "It will save a lot of time if you just tell me." Then they wouldn't have to play this ridiculous game of going back and forth.

[mpend]

She could not understand his attitude. What had she done so entirely wrong to deserve this? The brunette closed her eyes, a few tears leaking from her eyes. "I don't understand," she whispered brokenly, referring to all his words. For she could not see what he meant. Coming here had been not of her own choice, despite it being a blessing. She had not even known their destination until he had taken the cloth from her cage! So why was he looking at her like that? As though... as though she were an enemy?

"What have I done to you to make you treat me like this?" She asked softly. "Have I not been a sister to you? Have you not called me such, treated me as such, and teased me as such? Where is all that now, Arthur? Why do you look at me as though you hate me? Why do you hold your sword as though you wish to--" she cut off, giving in, closing her eyes with a sigh. "If you do not wish to free me, then please... leave me be."

[Arthur Pendragon]

Her little act got better and better as she not let tears shed from her eyes. Though he knew, that it was not the first time she had cried on cue. It was not the first time she had used tears to weaken him, knowing how it broke his heart to see a woman that he cared for so much cry. Everything she had done in that past year had been a lie, and he was not going to forget that. It would take more than a few tears and a few pained words for him to believe she was remorseful. No. He would never believe she was remorseful. He would never believe that she regretted her actions. Their recent confrontation showed how little she cared for him. Speaking words that made no sense. Seeing her now in this pitiful state.

What did she hope for? To evoke enough sympathy from him that he would forget everything in the past and welcome her with open arms? Only to have her stab him in the heart all over again? Whether it be literally or figuratively. "Have I not been a sister to you? Have you not called me such, treated me as such, and teased me as such?" Arthur paused hearing her say these words. It only continued to anger him. Hearing her claim that she was like a sister to him; that he was like a brother to her. How dare she. How dare she! All those sentiments were lost because of her! Not him! It had been her who threw aways years of their friendship and close sibling bond.

Her. How did she now have the audacity to say such things to him?! Even in a pathetic attempt to trick him and manipulate him all over again. And she did not stop talking. She just kept going . . . acting all surprised and disturbed at the thought that he would actually want to kill her. "How dare you say such things to me!" He said, his voice slightly raised and holding strong anger and sternness. Just when he thought she couldn't stoop any lower . . . she once again proved him completely wrong. "It is you who have brought this upon yourself. Do not accuse me of anything!" Even if this was all a trick, it was a new low. Even for her.

[mpend]

The Pendragon's anger was tangiable, but she could not understand it's reasoning. Even as Arthur spoke, Morgana trembled, watching him as he spoke of her daring to speak of what had been between them, He then accused her of bringing this fate to her own hands, and the brunette stared at the man she had thought she had known. "What have I done?" she asked, desperate to understand. "Why do you treat me so? Why do you accuse me of such things?"

His clear anger toward her was heartbreaking. Especially as she did not know its reasoning. Surely, if she had done something wrong, she should have known what it was? But as she tried to remember as far back as she could, nothing came to mind. The brunette stared at the man she called brother, her body trembling a little. The bang of a door somewhere nearby caused her body to jerk in shock, and the ward swallowed, biting her lip. "Please Arthur," she whispered, the tears now falling free. "For the love you once bore me, if you do not still, please... please help me!" She was not below pleading for her life, especially not from him.

Before she could say anymore, though a man strolled over to the cage. "My lord," he greeted Arthur, bowing a little. "I thought you might appreciate my latest prize. Found her wonderin' around the forest. Knew what someone like this was worth, thought you'd be happy to have her in the dungeons," He grinned at the Pendragon. "Wasn't sure what you'd want us t'do with her."