We Will Not Break (Morgana)

[Caitrin de Archer]

Caitrin found herself just staring at the Queen, what had changed so in such a short space of time to make her act in such a manner? It was unnerving, she had only come here to dine after all. She had been expecting Morgana to use this as a chance to gloat at her, and subject her to further humiliation. Now Caitrin just felt...pity towards the woman that only yesterday had put her through such torment. She didn’t move, she just stayed very still, pressing her lips together, unsure of what to do at all. Caitrin didn’t reply to Morgana’s first words, she was still in shock.

She was still sat beside the woman, a small distance between them. Caitrin looked around them, why had the guards not come to her aid yet? What on earth was going on? Morgana was telling her to leave, but how could she now? She bit her lip, but didn’t move. Morgana wasn’t well, a few weeks ago in this situation everyone in Camelot would have leapt to Morgana’s aid. Now, no one would care if the woman perished upon the stone floor of the hall. Caitrin shouldn’t have cared, but she did. It was only made worse when Morgana started crying. Caitrin hated seeing others cry, especially when she knew how strong they really were. She felt awkward, but only moved as Morgana shouted at her to move. She should have been overjoyed at this situation; she was being sent home. Wasn’t that what she had wanted all along? Caitrin wasn’t even sure now, she was just confused. She kept her eyes on Morgana as she backed away, the woman was just weeping. Jesu, what had happened to her?

Then, the sharp pain in Caitrin’s stomach struck again. The shock of the pain forced Caitrin to her knees quickly, and she gasped out in pain. Her face rushed with heat, but the rest of her body felt as cold as a winters day. For a few moments, Caitrin just felt panicked. She tried to breath in and out, just so she could gather enough energy to leave the room, but it wasn’t happening. She groaned slightly, her stomach was hurting her again. As she shifted, she put a shaking hand under her skirts, Morgana probably wouldn’t notice anyway. When she brought her hand back out from her skirts, her pale fingers were moist with deep, scarlet blood; Caitrin’s blood. She felt faint, and dizzy all at once. Jesu, what was happening to her? “Help, please.” Was all Caitrin could croak out, as her eyes were still fixed on her fingers; her eyes brimming with tears. She had a faint idea of what was going on, but she could only pray that she was wrong.

[mpend]

Nothing was definable any longer. The pain was so real, so intense, that all Morgana wanted was for someone to end it fast and furiously - she would have welcomed Arthur's sword at this point! She gave a soft sob, knowing that no one would help here. Even if her sister were here, Morgana knew that the blonde would not even care, she would act as though everything were normal. "Please, Caitrin," She gasped quietly between her sobs. "Please leave, now, before..." She cut off, shuddering in pain. "Curse you Morgause!" She spat at the air, the first time she had ever used such words against her sister. Sister. Was she really that? What if it had been a lie from the very start? Morgana had given up so much, and for what? For whom? Who was Morgause really? And why did she even care about Morgana? Was it just to take over Camelot?

Her head jolted up though, as Caitrin fell to her knees, a soft cry of pain coming from the other woman. "Caitrin?" She choked out beneath her own pain, glaring up at the guards. "Help her!" she snapped at them, though she could do nothing herself, for she was still in so much pain. Her eyes widened at the sight of the blood on Caitrin's hands, and she felt her breath coming faster as panic filled her. What was going on? By the Goddess', what on earth was going on? Was this another trick of Morgause's? Or was there something much deeper happening here?

[Caitrin de Archer]

Caitrin couldn’t understand what was going on. What had happened to Morgana in such a short space of time to make her so incapable of doing anything? This was a woman who had left her in chains for the past week just for the feel of being in control, why was she now just telling her to leave? “Before what?” Caitrin croaked through her own pain. “Morgause?” Caitrin repeated softly, looking round them. The woman wasn’t in the room, what on earth was she going on about? She would have asked but another surge of pain rose up through Caitrin, and she was incapable of doing anything apart from groaning.

Caitrin didn’t like this at all. Everything just felt numb, apart from the burning pain from her abdomen. Jesu, her flux had not come these past three months, but she had tried to forget about it, she had tried to push it to the back of her mind and pretend that everything was fine. She was shaking, but she wiped her bloodied hand on her dress and gave another soft moan. She wasn’t paying attention to Morgana anymore, she was still wrapped up in her own pain and fear. She could feel her underskirts moisten, and bitter tears rushed to her eyes. She knew exactly what was happening, she should have tried at least to remain calm but she didn’t. This was probably the most distressed she had ever been.

The guards had rushed to her side, but they didn’t know what to do. They couldn’t see the blood at the young noblewoman’s skirt, nor feel the pain she was in. She felt like she wanted to retch, and tried, but there was nothing on her stomach to bring up anyway, so her stomach just cried out in pain. Tears were streaming down Caitrin’s face. She wanted to run away and do this in private. If she was going to lose hers and Griff’s child, she wanted to do this alone. However, she couldn’t move and she found herself slumping, so she could lie on the floor, her arms clutching at her stomach. She cried out and just writhed around in pain on the floor, feeling the hall slipping away from her vision as she did. “I can’t-“ She groaned again, and bit her lip so she wouldn’t cry, “Move.” She wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, and her belly just cried out in pain as she felt her blood soak the skirts of her dress.

[mpend]

"Get her.... to help." Morgana gasped quietly to the guards, not caring about herself as she shuddered again in pain, pressing a hand to her mouth as she forced back the urge to vomit. Caitrin's condition was worrying her more and more, especially so as Morgana, in her current state, could do nothing to help. Had she been able to, she wasn't sure exactly what she could have done anyway. But she would have tried something! Anything.

With a sob the Witch folded in on herself, closing her eyes tightly. As she did, images swept before her eyelids; images that terrified her to her very core. At the centre of them, as always, was Morgause, smiling victoriously. "Goddess help us," she breathed softly, still shuddering violently.

[Caitrin de Archer]

The guards had moved in on Caitrin, one of them tried to grab her shoulder to move her into a position where they could pick her up. However, she moved against them, and protested. She didn’t want to be moved, she was in too much pain to be moved anywhere. She could feel her own blood soaking through her skirts, Jesu, she felt like she was going to die. Eventually she did turn over, and retched, managing to steady herself into some sort of sitting position. The guard who was beside her stepped back slightly, and looked to the Queen for some instruction. Morgana was telling them to get her to help. Caitrin felt quite dizzy, and couldn’t focus on the woman anymore. She went to speak but couldn’t Why did Morgana suddenly care about her? Shouldn’t she be glad that the woman was in such a condition really?

Caitrin wasn’t sure how long her torment was going to last for, but the Great Hall was starting to go dark in Caitrin’s eyes. She went to stand up in sheer panic but fell back down. She looked across at Morgana, and went to speak before she felt herself slump towards the floor. All Caitrin could feel was an odd sensation of being lifted up by one of the guards, as her skirts continued to be drenched in her own blood. The whole hall span in Caitrin’s eye line before she slumped into an unwilling sleep, detached from her pain.