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Morgana smiled, reaching forward to taken Arthur's hand. "And I missed you, more than I can say," the words were true, for she had. The guilt she had felt in leaving was only guilt because she had left Arthur. Uther did not matter as much to her, but it was Arthur's companionship she cared for and missed whilst she had been with the druid people.

To hear Arthur promise such a thing was a relief beyond all measures. More than any man or being, she knew she could trust Arthur when he swore such a thing. He did not take promises lightly, and he would always keep his word as much as he could. The brunette allowed him to lead her to the bed, sitting down adn tugging him down next to her. A nervous glance to the door, and then her eyes were upon him once more. "... the druids did not take me," she stated quietly. "I went to them willingly, but there is good enough reason for my going there." The ward of Uther Pendragon sighed softly, shifting a little. "You know as well as any other, adn perhaps more, how troubling my dreams are to me, Arthur. How... real they sometimes are," she could list a thousand times where the things had actually almost occured.

A pause, a breath, and Morgana steeled her resolve. "The druid people were helping me to understand, Arthur. I... now know what my dreams are, I now know why they occur," she bit her lip, lowering her voice to just above a whisper. "It is connected to magic, Arthur," her voice trembled a little, as she worried how he would respond.

As the carriage drew over the cobblestones that met with the bridge into Camelot, Morgana's heart raced a little with excitement, happiness and relief. Finally she would be home; finally she would be somewhere safe, if only for a small while. It had been so long since she had been here - far too long for her liking. Nearly three years, by her count.

Shifting a little uncomfortably in her seat, the brunette glanced over at her sleeping husband, feeling the familiar hatred for him rise inside. It was because of him that she had missed so much. He had refused to let her travel without him, and he hated Camelot with a passion. The only reason he had married her -- well, they would not go into that. The very thought made her feel ill. Silently Morgana wondered what Arthur would think of her, when he saw her. Her brother of heart was no fool, and he above anyone else in the land would be able to tell how much had changed; by Morgana's countenance if nothing else. She was meeker, barely ever answered back or raised her tone, very rarely offered her opinion on anything... and all this was due to her husband, Gods curse him.

Even if she did not say anything, she feared Arthur would notice. And if not him, then Gwen. But if they did notice, woudl they care? For she had not been able to respond to their letters thanks to her husband, and thus they had eventually stopped writing altogether. It had broken her heart to lose contact with them, but what else could she do? Besides, the news she had to share was not news they would ever wish to hear. If Arthur knew what was happening... the lady sighed, shaking her head. He could not know, ever.

A glance out the window showed Morgana they were nearing the Castle and - oh ! It was almost in sight! Her heart raced happily, and for the first time she felt as though she belonged somewhere. The brunette almost smiled, then she caught sight of her own reflection in the mirror, and the threat of such a thing faded. She did not belong here, and she was not fit to be here. They would not recognise her. Her face was drawn and gaunt, her skin pale where once it had been healthy. She was so much skinnier now; thanks to many attempts at producing an heir, and failing. The continuous hemmorages and miscarrages had taken their toll on the young woman. And she feared what her friend's reactions would be when they realised just how changed she was.

As the carriage drew to a stop outside the Castle, Morgana swallowed, grateful to see her husband had still not yet awoken. She nodded to the carriagman, who opened the door for her, though he did not bow. None of her husband's men bowed to her, nor would they ever. Morgana offered the man a soft nod of thanks, though he did not deserve it, and descended the steps. As she was about to, though, a hand reached out, and grabbed her by the wrist.

"Whores do not go before Kings," She flinched at the harshness, though not at the name. She was used to being called such things by now. "Show me some respect, or so help me Morgana, we will return home and you will woe the day you came here."

"Yes, my Lord." Morgana shied back into the carriage, watching Charles stand. Though the now-King was handsom, the facade was only a cover for the bitterness and hate within. He was a pompous, arrogant man with no respect for anyone but himself. He hated the Pendragon dynasty with a passion, and he made no secret of it. It had not helped when he had found out that Arthur had married a servant. For her part, Morgana had been thrilled. Her brother-of-heart had gone against tradition, but she rejoiced for him. He deserved to be happy, and Guinevère was the perfect choice for him. They would make a good couple, a happy couple. Better that than Arthur be unhappy with a bride of someone else's choice.

Morgana watched her husband descend the steps of the carriage, and move toward the small procession waiting for them. "Arthur of Camelot," his voice sounded out, loud and clear, and she shuddered a little. "We thank you for your gracious welcome to your country." She knew this was her cue to join his side, but she could not find the courage to do so. What had she been thinking? She no longer held the pride she once had, she was too different, and Arthur and his wife would know that in seconds. She was not fit to be among them.

Setting: Camelot
Timeline: Three years after "Here Comes the Bride"
Time of Day: Midday
Tag: Arthur Pendragon, Guinevère Pendragon

"And the second you had turned to leave again, I would join you," Morgana countered with a teasing note, though her words were honest. "It is hardly a place for you, either," She shook her head, sighing softly. "I still should have done more." she stated firmly. She nudged him gently, careful not to hurt him. "Perhaps next time I shall run into the courtyard naked. That should get your attention," she would never do anything of the sort, but it would be fun to see what Arthur's reaction to the threat would be.

The ward sighed as Arthur expressed his wish to see her dreams eradicated. "It is at such times like this when I am glad they are not," she replied honestly. "But generally I agree with you." She shivered a little in remembrance, biting her lip. As he spoke of consistantly teasing her, the shadow over her features passed, and Morgana gave a slight smile. "I would rather have you as a teasing brother, than none at all," she promised softly. "And you are the best brother I could have ever asked for." Sentimental words that the Prince might later tease her for, but for now Morgana was grateful she had said them out loud, for they were true; completely. She felt honoured to know Arthur, to be respected by him and to have the privalage of being called his sister-of-heart. He was the person she was most closest to in all of Camelot, and she could not imagine life without him in her world.

When he asked whether Gaius had been able to say anything about her dreams, the brunette sighed. "He simply gave me another potion," she shook her head, bitterly. "I think to him and Uther I am a lost cause. Perhaps they are right." She swallowed. "One of these days I fear he will give me a potion that will mean I never wake again," to speak such words to anyone but Arthur was dangerous - but she knew to Arthur she could say almost anything, and he would listen, though he might not agree. The thoughts made her feel slightly ill, and when he stated that he would listen and not be reckless, she barely responded, her mind still with her dreams.

She could almost feel the raw pain pulsing through the Prince. It scared and awed her, for in this state Morgana did not know what Arthur was capable of. He had never, in all the years she had known him, struck out at another person blindly, but now he looked to take out half the kingdom with such an action, and to show no regret, either. The brunette frowned, but did not remove her touch. She would find out the truth, even if if he killed her for knowing it.

As he spoke his desire of wanting to kill Uther, both relief and honest surprise filled the Ward. She had never, ever heard him speak such words before, so what would be means to invoke them now? Instead of letting the torrent of questions in her mind take over, Morgana spoke quietly, calmly, hoping her voice woudl soothe the blonde at the same time. "But he is not here," she stated softly. She bit her lip, "Arthur, what has happened?" a hand now went to his back, as though to support him. "You know you can tell me anything,"

The pure anger she could feel radiating from the Pendragon Prince was as awe-inspiring as it was terrifying. And to know that the anger was now directed at Uther... it made Morgana curious to know just what had happened to make Arthur say and do such things. Was this something to do with Gwen? Or Merlin? Did either of them know what Arthur was going through? No - if he had talked through this already with somone, she knew he would not have been in the state she had found him in. "You can trust me,"

"You are not in the position to make demands, Caitrin," Morgana's voice was sharp, although she was starting to tire of this argument. It had been fun, but really, how much could one argue over such a thing? "But I will allow you to write to your uncle, assuring him of your safety here, and of your pleasure at being my guest." The last bit was said with some irony; she knew Caitrin would never find pleasure being here, and she wanted to dig the knife a little closer to the heart.

She watched as Caitrin read the document, able to tell the noblewoman was not really reading; perhaps even that she could not, for by now she must be exhausted - both emotionally and physically. As soon as the treaty was signed, Morgana wisked it away from sight. "The guards will now take you to your rooms," she stated firmly.

"You will be an honoured guest," replied Morgana. "But because of your previous... descrepancies, we must be careful. It is only to begin with. Then you will be released, fully." Of course Caitrin didn't know of the things that would happen before that time. And Morgana wasn't intending for her to find out any time soon, either.

The Queen's smile was prominent as Caitrin asked about the treaty. "Do you wish to read it?" she asked, though her voice held a slightly teasing edge. "It does not state anything we have not agreed to between ourselves, but if you wish to read it you may." Despite her victory, Morgana could not but help feel a little... well, sad. Is this what people were brought to when they succombed to her? She had to admit, she had been hoping for a happier Camelot. But they would be happier, she supposed, in the later years; after this first one, when she had had the chance to prove herself fully.

A soft chuckle left Morgana's lips as the true state of Caitrin filled her gaze, and for once she felt truly as if she were on the avenging side. The girl was broken - so much more than her friend was - and in this, the Queen felt as though she had accomplished something. "Perhaps you should learn to think it is," Morgana's words were sharp. "For with it, you will be a guest instead of a prisoner, an ally instead of an enemy."

With a nod of her head, a guard stepped forward, handing Morgana the scroll upon which held the treaty Caitrin was to sign. She had had it carefully written, and if Caitrin looked close enough, she might refuse altogether. For though the wording was complex and strange, there were things in there that would mean that once the paper was signed, all honour to Caitrin would be lost. "Here is the treaty," Morgana said sharply. "Sign it, and all will be well between you and I."