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The air was cool, clear and crisp as one Morgana Pendragon moved through the courtyard, ignoring the hush that fell over the few people that still walked about. Her head was held high, her smile bright and her eyes shining. The Queen was dressed in Royal robes of purple, ignoring the whispers as she moved with determination toward the Hall, ignoring the way her heart felt as though it were about to burst. For behind her, in chains, shackled and naked down to the loincloth covering his manhood and backside, was dragged the proud Prince Arthur, now not so proud, and definately not a Prince, by any means of the word. Morgana's men had done well. They had found the coward attempting to gather, from all accounts, a few men together, with foolish thoughts of storming the citidale. As if that would ever work! Morgana almost laughed at the thought. But now Arthur was disgraced and diminished, being dragged by the most brutal thugs she could find.

Nothing yet had been done to the Pendragon, for which Arthur should be grateful. But then, Morgana did not wish to marr his skin, not just yet. That pleasure was to be saved for when it was needed, to create the correct impact. For who would flinch at the sight of flesh that was about to be ripped to shreds when it was already marred? And Arthur was blessed with good looks - his deep blue eyes and strong body would withold a certain amount of her plans, but not all. The very walk itself to the Hall had been a mark of point - Morgana had wanted to make a procession of Arthur's capture, and it had worked. She heard whispers here and there, gasps and soft moans of fear and disappointment that the Prince - the Hope of Camelot, as she'd heard him be called - dragged like some animal through the streets that he had once called home.

As they entered the Castle, Morgana nodded to a guard, who looked startled to see Arthur behind her, kneeling on the floor like a peasent, bundled in chains and almost naked. The doors to the Great Hall opened, and Morgana stepped through, ignoring a few shocked intakes of breath, mentally taking note of those who were to blame for them. They would pay, later. As she reached the Throne, she turned, for the first time since his capture laying her eyes upon the Prince, with a small smirk upon her face. "You should smile, Arthur, for you are home." she teased, not exactly expecting an answer from the Pendragon.

Stepping toward him, Morgana knelt, clasping her hand upon her brother's cheek, reminiscent of the way she would once do such a thing when they had been the best of friends. "It is such a shame," she whispered. "Such a shame to do to you what I must, but politics must be abided by, mustn't it?" The Witch smiled. "I have made promises, Arthur, and I must fuful them," she lowered her voice, so only he could hear her. "And believe me, you will be begging me for relief before the day's end." Straightening to her full height, Morgana moved to the Throne, and sat down upon it, crossing her legs, smirking down at her brother before moving her eyes to a couple of guards. "Bring in Caitrin de Archer and Yassia Dyfrene de Ailantha," she commanded. "It is time they knew how the power of Morgana reigns over Camelot."

Tags: Yassia, Caitrin, and Arthur
Timeline: During "The Coming of Arthur"
Location: The Great Hall.

Kory - I read the oliphant as part of my english lit a level, and I have to agree with you, I love it too! Another poet I love is Tennyson. I love his imagery and style. Like you I love that Tolkien made his own world - and made it believable too! - and languages. I think his Elvish language (Quenyan) is the most beautiful made up language I've ever heard. I grew up with the Grimm stories too, but they never really captured my imagination. As a child we were read (me and my siblings) Enid Blyton, and those were my childhood favourite books, which even now I remember!

I've never heard of the Troy Games - I'll have to look into that! I've not heard of the author either, so it sounds like something I should definately try out (oh the joys of public librarys!). I haven't heard of Kristin Cashore, either!! What're they about, may I ask?

I did read the Harry Potter books when they first came out as I think most kids did (though I was about 17 when they came out), but again they never really caputured my imagination. Another childhood favourite of mine was CS Lewis' Narnia Chronicles...

Yassia: I have heard of Bernard Cornwell, though I've never read his stuff!!! If you like things like that, I would definately recommend Sebastian Faulks' books - warning, his stuff gets VERY nitty-gritty realistic. One of his books ending sequence gave me nightmares! (I'm very hard hearted normally when it comes to reading!)

I will definately look up James Joyce, it feels silly I've never heard of him or of his books! Its possible someone's mentioned him in the past and I've blindsided him, but I will definately go find one of his books to read!!

Morgana's smile only widened as Caitrin spoke, a glow of satisfaction burning in her heart at the knowledge that she had won. She switched to an expression of tender concern, her eyes meeting those of the chained woman's. "I had promised you that your loyalty would mean peace amongst your friends, did I not?" she asked softly. "I am a woman of my word, Caitrin. I only wish to be your friend, as I believe we once were before.


"Of course," she added. "I would have to have your word in writing, for state's sake. Just as a measurement, of course, nothing more. And then you would be free to retire to a room, to stay at the Castle at my pleasure." Morgana smiled sweetly. "Does that sound like a fair enough deal for you, Lady Caitrin?"

Morgana chuckled softly, watching Caitrin with deep satisfaction. Yes, this was becoming more and more fun by the moment. It was such a pity she did not have Arthur here, with her, to wave him in front of the young woman - so to speak - to add further to her torment. The Witch had to admit she was enjoying playing with Caitrin's emotions, not that the woman wasn't making it easy enough! She laughed as Caitrin snapped at her, throwing back her head in a melodramatic way, laughing heartily.

"I do not care if you are or not," she admitted. "It is nothing to me to have you rot down here for all eternity. But I am trying to offer you a hand of friendship, and you are either too stupid or too foolish to understand your position. Why Arthur chose to be friends with you, I will never understand. But then," she smirked. "He has been known to make friends with idiots." With a wave of her hand, she changed the conversation. "Even so. I am getting tired of your constant mind changing. Come, give me an answer. Will you or will you not swear loyalty to me?"

The anger that ripped through her was refreshing, a change from the fear that was beginning to feel like a familiar and unwelcomed friend. Morgana tried to quell it even so as Arthur stared at her, her whole body trembling lightly as she tried to understand the emotions flickering in the Prince's eyes. As Arthur spoke, she could feel the anger dying as quickly as it had come, and tears slowly fell from the Ward's eyes. Yes, he was right. By all the Goddess', he was right! She should have trusted him - she knew, she knew Arthur was not like Uther, how could she have even pretended to think otherwise? As he said that he thought he had overestimated their relationship, Morgana's resolve broke, and she crumbled to the floor, sobbing quietly, her chest heaving as she did so.

"Forgive me," she whispered, in choked breaths. "Forgive me, please forgive me. For you are right. I..." Her voice failed her, and she closed her eyes, trying to regain herself, failing miserably. "You have always been there for me," Stated Morgana. "Always been a true and loyal friend. Nay, more than a friend. You are all but a brother to me, Arthur, and I should have c... come to you," another sob, and her words began to break around her tears. "I was so terrified, I did not know how to... I... I wasn't sure who to... to turn to, or even if..." she shook her head. "I tried so... so hard to... t... to deny it, to..."

Morgana's voice faded and she looked up at the man who she had grown with, feeling sickness pooling in her stomach as tears continued to run down her face. "I am so sorry, Arthur," she whispered, dropping her head in shame. "Perhaps it is right that I... face this fate, this ... death."

There was an implication to Caitrin's words, and Morgana did not like it. Her lips curled into a vicious smirk, and she shrugged lightly. "There are other tactics to use on men such as they," she replied softly. "Other methods of... pursuasion, one might call them." The Queen smiled sweetly at Caitrin, stepping forward a little.

The lady's words made her pause for a moment, and she arched an eyebrow. " Do you really wish to prolong your stay here, in these cells?" she asked, intregued. "I could have you back in a warm bed in an instant, and yet you continue to defy me, to aggrivate me. Why is that, Caitrin? Is it just that you are a foolish girl with no knowledge of the world? Or is there another reason? Are you still hoping Arthur will come and save you?"

"Why else would you have come?" the Ward questioned, with weariness in her voice, hating the atmophere between them. But how could she really be surprised? Arthur, the Prince of Camelot, was the son of Uther Pendragon, who hated all magic users with a passion. How could she have possibly expected him to react differently to her guardian? Why would she have any reason to think Arthur would think any more of her than Uther did?

Tears threatened to fall ocne again, and as Arthur's voice rippled through the air, tought with anger, Morgana could do nothing but stare at him. Why was he so concerned that she had kept such a thing from him? Why did it matter to him so much? "Why should I have told you?" she asked with a bite to her words. "Should i have told you so you could run to your beloved father, and expose me for the... thing I am? I know your view on magic - everyone's view in Camelot!! Those who practice it are put behind bars and then executed, and you are as much a part of it as your father! Do I need remind you of Gwen's father, Arthur? What about the other men you've helped Uther murder?" she shook her head, even as Arthur spoke once more, his voice much lower this time.

"I owed you nothing," she stated quietly. "And I knew the penalty of trusting you. I knew you would go to him, and I knew I woudl be dead within the day." a tired chuckle rippled through her lips as the ward's eyes looked about her. "I suppose that fate was coming to me anyhow."

There was something going on here, something much deeper than just the relief of rescuing Gwen. As she took her maiden into her arms and held her close, Morgana watched the features on Arthur's face; a mixture of pain and longing. What was happening here? What was going on she did not know about? She pushed the thought away, determined to know more later, spinning Gwen around a little, grateful, so grateful, her friend was safe.

As Gwen stated that she had worried for Morgana, the ward gave a soft smile. "Me? It was you who was captured by those bandits, I should have never left you alone," she shook her head. "I am well now, now that you are home and safe." she smiled. "I knew Arthur would find you..."