Hi, I see that I missed the cut-off date, but that there also haven't been a lot of check-ins and nothing has happened since May 12. I would still like to keep Morgana, and I will work on keeping her as active as possible.
Morgana wouldn't have admitted it, but she really had missed her room in the castle. The last year spent with Morgause and various bands of druids had been educational, to say the least, but hardly comfortable. She missed the creature comforts--the soft bed, the feather pillows, the warm blankets and soft sheets. And the dresses! She had been dressed in little more than rags for so long that she had almost forgotten what it felt like to be dolled up in satin and velvet and lace, her hair done up in luxurious, glossy curls.
Yes, as much as she hated to admit it, Morgana really was glad to be home. Of course, it was not without its downside. Having to play nice with Uther sickened her. The very sound of that man's voice made her hair stand on end and his hugs made her skin crawl.
And then there was Merlin. She was pretty sure she could fool him, just as she had fooled everyone else, but every time she looked at him, she saw red. It was the color of betrayal. He had betrayed her, lied to her, and tried to murder her. It still hurt, deep down, but she had learned to turn her pain into anger and hatred. And she hated him, with every fiber of her being. She almost hated him more than she hated Uther now. Somehow, she vowed to herself, she was going to make that wretched servant boy pay for what he had done to her.
After a "tearful" reunion with Guinevère, Morgana had prepared for bed, and climbed in between the sheets. She waited as long as she could until she was sure that the maid had gone, then slipped back out of bed and went to the wardrobe to pull out a cloak. She was going to meet with Morgause in the darkling wood, to tell her all about her return to Camelot.
She pulled on a vivid red velvet cloak and started for the door, but as she opened it, she was surprised to see someone standing on the other side, about to knock.
Timeline: Season 3, right after Morgana's return to Camelot, night Tag: Merlin Notes: Not exactly a "What if" thread, but I feel like he should have confronted her alone
Morgana watched him, frustrated. Mordred kept talking about using magic for good or evil, and it confused her a little. The lines were becoming blurred for her, and she no longer knew what was right and what was wrong. Persecuting people with magic just because they were born with different powers seemed wrong to her. Hunting down innocent druids and executing children was wrong. Destroying everything that was left of the Old Religion, that was wrong. To her, that was the evil. What she was doing with Morgause, that couldn't be wrong. She was trying to defend her people, to restore their rights and allow them to live free as they chose. How could that be bad?
She almost felt as though Mordred was taking Merlin's side in this issue. Why was she defending him? Yes, Merlin had helped save Mordred from Uther's wrath all those years ago, but she was the one who had taken care of him, had stayed with him and helped to heal him from his injuries. Didn't she deserve his loyalty? Didn't she deserve to have someone other than Morgause who was completely on her side? Merlin had tried to murder her, and she could not see any reason why that should be justified. He had been her friend and he had betrayed her. It hurt.... still, deep inside, it hurt.
"I didn't do anything!" she cried out desperately. "I didn't have that kind of power. I could never have done anything like that, and I wouldn't have tried to hurt the people I love. I wanted Uther dead, but no one else... Whatever Morgause did, it was not my fault!"
Morgana sighed and sat down on a large tree root. The truth was, she really didn’t know exactly why Merlin had tried to kill her. Morgause had been rather vague in her explanation, and said something about him using her to get Morgause to lift the spell on Camelot. But that seemed rather an extreme step to take, especially for someone who claimed to be her friend.
“Merlin knew my secret. He was the one who sent me to the druids in the first place, all those months ago. He told me he didn’t think magic was evil, or that I was evil for having it…”
She was getting upset again, and she felt the anger beginning to arise within her. “Camelot was being attacked. Morgause was attacking… and there was a terrible sickness spreading through the citadel. It made everyone fall asleep… I was the only one not affected. I still don’t know why… Maybe Morgause protected me. But Merlin… He poisoned me…. Morgause had to use magic to save me.”
She felt like there was something that she was missing, or that she didn’t want to see. But every time she thought about that day, she became upset all over again. She had not caused the sickness; she didn’t have that kind of power. She only vaguely remembered meeting with Morgause in the woods the night before, but she had awakened the next morning in her own bed with no knowledge of how she got there. But if Morgause had caused the sickness, it was not what Morgana had wanted at the time. She didn’t want her friends to die—only Uther. But now, her feelings were confused and jumbled, and she usually ended up angry with everyone. That was why Morgause had sent her here, in hopes that she could regain her focus.
Morgana nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of his voice. She had barely seen him since Uther’s death, and that was at least partly by her own design. She hadn’t wanted to see him, couldn’t bring herself to face him. He had been busy with meetings and counsels all day anyway, but she had taken care to avoid him as much as possible, and had actually spent much of the day in her chambers.
It was just so hard to look him in the face, knowing that this was all her fault. It didn’t even really matter that she had changed her mind at the last moment, because Uther had died to save her. Adding to her guilt was the shocking fact that she was actually his daughter, and not merely his ward. She had tried to have her own father killed. How could she have done such a thing? Now both she and Arthur were without a father, and Arthur was thrust onto the throne before he was ready.
“Hello, Arthur,” she said softly, looking up at the man she now knew to be her brother. He looked much the same way she imagined she did—tired, sad, and drained. He had a lot on his shoulders now, and she was the one who had put it there.
“I was just…” She stopped. It was obvious what she was doing; it was the same thing he was doing. They both wanted to see their father, to say their own private farewells to the frustrating, complicated man. “We could see him together, if you’d like.”
A tear trickled down her cheek and she held her hand out to him, almost pleadingly. She wanted his forgiveness, even though she hadn’t the heart to ask for it.
It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him. She trusted him, but she also knew that he was loyal to his father. Arthur had gone against his father on occasion, and that did give her hope, but Arthur didn’t understand magic any more than Uther did. When it came down to it, Morgana didn’t really understand magic, either… she only knew that she had it and that she was going to have to learn how to control it somehow. Would Arthur’s fear of magic prove stronger than his love for her?
Morgana wasn’t even sure that he shouldn’t hate her for having magic. The druid boy, Mordred, had been the only one she had ever known who had magic and did not use it for evil. He’d only used what he had to protect himself, and even then, very sparingly. But the knowledge of her newfound power frightened Morgana greatly. Was magic evil? Or could it be used for good? She wanted to believe that it could be a good thing… but she just didn’t know.
She looked up at Arthur and took a few calming breaths. She had come here to tell him the truth, and he deserved at least that much from her. For better or for worse, at least then her secret would be out, and she wouldn’t feel this crippling fear and panic crushing her. She almost needed to speak it aloud, so she could find a way to face it. She only hoped that he wouldn’t react as Gaius had done, in refusing to believe her.
“Arthur…” she began her voice trembling. “I wasn’t attacked. Not last night, or tonight. The glass… the candle… it was a sorcerer, but it wasn’t an attacker. It was me… I did it, Arthur. I’m the sorcerer.”
Morgana tensed as he moved a little closer to her, and she watched him warily, almost expecting him to attack while she was vulnerable. But no, Arthur didn’t do that. He wouldn’t do that, no matter what she had done to him in the past.
There was the possibility that this was all a trick; that he was trying to lure her into a false sense of security. It wasn’t the kind of thing Arthur would normally do, but it was difficult for Morgana to trust anyone, even him. She’d come so far and changed so much, and if she were in his place, she would not hesitate to trick him in the same way. But strangely, she wanted to trust him. He was probably the only person in the world who could fill the emptiness that had taken over her soul since Morgause had died—maybe even longer. If she was honest with herself the emptiness had begun to overtake her the moment she realized Merlin’s betrayal.
Could she really go back? Could she trust him again; let him in? She wanted to, but after all that she had done, was it too late for her? There was no one in Camelot she hadn’t hurt. Even if Arthur would welcome her back, surely no one else would. Gwen, Merlin, Gaius… she had hurt all of them. At the time, she thought they deserved it. She had been so consumed with anger and jealousy and hatred that she had stopped thinking of them as her friends, the people she used to love.
Arthur might be willing to take her back and forgive her, and maybe Gwen would, too. But Merlin… Merlin was always an obstacle. He had tried to murder her once, and she didn’t doubt that he would try again. The only way Morgana could truly come back to Camelot was if Merlin was gone. But Morgana was sure that, if given the choice between her and the wretched servant, Arthur would choose Merlin.
But his words about magic being used for good struck a chord with her. She had tried to convince herself that, even when she was doing terrible things, she was doing them for a good reason. She was trying to earn freedom for people like her—people with magic. But somewhere along the line, her goals had become twisted and she had started doing things for the wrong reasons. She could tell herself that she wanted the crown of Camelot so that she could free her people from the tyrannous laws against magic, but what had she done when she did have the crown? She didn’t free her people; she turned it around on the innocent citizens of Camelot.
A tear trickled down her cheek and she looked up at Arthur hopefully. “I want to come back,” she said softly. “I want to show you that magic isn’t evil… it doesn’t have to be. I thought I was doing it for the right reasons… I wanted freedom for people with magic. That was all I ever wanted, Arthur. Can… can you give us that?”
How could Morgana begin to explain what had happened since she last saw Mordred? It hadn't even been that long ago, really, and yet it felt like a lifetime ago. Morgana had been a different person then. She knew, deep down, that she was not the same innocent girl who had lived in Camelot and fought to save the young druid boy.
It all came back to that one horrible day, which was still muddled and confusing in her mind. The whole city had been seized with the horrible sleeping sickness, and attackers--including Morgause--had been invading the city.
She still did not know the truth behind the story of the sleeping sickness. She knew that Morgause had caused the spell, but she didn't know magic well enough to know how such a thing could be done and how she had been spared. So Merlin's actions that day seemed even more like a betrayal to her. She was convinced that he had done it because of her magic.
"He tried to murder me, Mordred. He poisoned me. Morgause--my sister--she was able to save me, but for a few minutes, I was dead."
Tears burned in her eyes but they did not fall. Instead, they seemed to freeze in her eyes as the cold, bitter feeling began to take over her.
"I've changed, Mordred," she said. "I'm afraid you might not like who I've become."
For the first time, Morgana faltered at his words. It was true; Arthur had defied his father to help Mordred, and countless other times as well. She knew it to be true, and many times she had praised him for it. She'd stopped seeing him as Arthur, the boy who had almost been like a brother to her, and instead as an obstacle in her way, preventing her from having what she really wanted. Only somewhere along the way, she had forgotten what that even was. What did she want? She had started out simply wanting peace for people with magic, people like herself. And now she coveted the crown of Camelot, convinced that it was the only way she would ever be able to free the druids and sorcerers and high priestesses from a life of persecution.
When had she stopped wanting peace? When had she decided that war was the only way to free her people?
She was an entirely different girl from the one Arthur had known and loved as a sister. But deep down, she still felt like the old Morgana was inside her somewhere. Arthur's words made her ache inside, wanting to be that girl again. Was it possible to go back? Could she really mend fences with him?
Arthur thought she blamed him, but the truth was, it wasn't his fault. It wasn't even Uther's fault. She could have opposed Uther without taking it out on Arthur or anyone else. No, there was one person to blame for what she had become, and Arthur had no idea.
"It wasn't your fault. Maybe I should have trusted you, but I was afraid. I trusted someone else... and he was the one who betrayed me. If anyone is to blame, Arthur, it is him. Merlin knew... and he tried to murder me. If not for Morgause, I'd be dead now... and sometimes I think maybe I still am."
April 1st 2012--The curse has been broken by Emma Swan. People have their memories back and are re-finding each other as the days go on. In wake of this, a battle is coming and the residents of Storybrooke must band together to stop evil from spreading. There is a rumor about a gold talisman hidden somewhere in town that can protect the residents. However, there is a catch, two must die so that others may live in peace.
The first day of the curse-free Storybrooke and residents awoke to a black cloud hovering over the town. It's blocking out the sun and making it difficult to maneuver throughout town. The town is in eternal darkness until the gold talisman is found. However, little do the still-recovering residents know, there is a darkness approaching that is blacker than the cloud now covering Storybrooke. Despite it being April Fool's day, no one is in the mood for pranks. Whatever has caused this must be stopped and stopped soon before things get considerably worse for the already messed up Storybrooke.
In The Enchanted Forest, the darkness has spread there and has caused dissent and distrust among those that survived the initial blast of the curse. Now a few of them have decided to make the journey towards Storybrooke for help, as they have heard rumors of a savior who is currently in the Enchanted Forest along with her mother.
Something dark is coming, The Enchanted Forest and Storybrooke must band together and defeat the evil that threatens the peace of the two lands.
Dark Resonance is a fun, exciting Once Upon a Time roleplay set at the beginning of Season 2. Our staff and members are friendly and helpful--the only thing we are missing is YOU!
She probably should have been nervous as she was carried into the camp. She knew enough about the druids from past encounters to know that if they felt threatened, they would not hesitate to to take whatever actions they deemed necessary. But she was on her way to becoming a high priestess of the old religion.... still no where near as powerful as her sister, but she was getting there. Morgause hoped that she would learn from the druids, that she would find a way to channel her anger into something useful, rather than allowing it to distract her.
Morgana remained quiet as the druids brought her into their camp. She had said enough; she had told them who she was, and now they were obviously bringing her to an authority figure. She wasn't sure what she expected, but she did not expect to see Mordred.
It had been nearly a year since she had seen him last, but he had apparently grown quite a lot in a short period of time. His face was filling out, too, and he was beginning to look less like a boy and more like a young man. The mere sight of him soothed her heart in a way nothing else could have ever done.
"Mordred!" she cried, breaking into a smile. It was the first time she had smiled genuinely since the moment she had realized what Merlin had done to her.
In the past, she might have run to him and embraced him, but her greeting was more subdued this time. Maybe it was because of the druid guards who stood just behind her, but mostly it was because she found it hard to summon the energy for much of anything anymore.
His voice echoed in her head, and his words of concern nearly broke her. "I've been cast out of Camelot," she said softly. "Merlin...." She stopped and she could feel the rage beginning to burn inside her, as it always did whenever she spoke his name. "Merlin betrayed me."
Hi, Freya! I'm not sure Morgana would have much to do with you, although we could give it a try, if you'd like. At that point, I think Morgana would still be good, so maybe something could work. I also have an original knight, Kenric, who needs something to do.
His words should have brought her comfort. They should have made her feel safe and loved. But strangely, they had the opposite effect on her. Arthur, sweet, trusting, Arthur, had been raised with such a fear and hatred of magic that she couldn't help but believe that this was the one thing that would change his opinion of her. It scared her; how could it not scare him? How could he possibly not feel revulsion and hatred when he learned that her soul was polluted with what Uther called evil?
In her heart, Morgana did not believe magic was evil on its own. Yes, she was aware that many people with magic had used it for evil purposes. But in a way, she couldn't blame them for doing it. Their lives were in danger. Perhaps for them, it was a case of kill or be killed. Maybe they were doing it for the greater good.
Morgana believed that Uther was an evil, intolerant, unforgiving king. She had seen it first hand on many occasions, when he ordered the deaths of citizens, druids, even an innocent little boy, all because of his crusade against magic. Who could blame such people, then, for using their only weapons against a king who would have their heads simply because they were born with magic? Even if they lost their own lives in the process, maybe their efforts could help other people with magic to finally be free from Uther's tyranny.
These were terrible, traitorous thoughts. If Arthur knew what she was thinking right now, his assurances that he "could never hate" her would surely be proven untrue.
She wiped her eyes and looked up at him, feeling like her heart was breaking. Maybe it had been a mistake to come to him.
"Arthur... don't make promises you can't keep. And when I tell you what I came to say... You'll probably never even want to look at me again."
It had been months since she had last seen the gates of Camelot, months since Merlin had tried to poison her, but Morgana was still not fully recovered. Despite her sister's healing powers and the beginning of her training in the use of magic, Morgana still found it hard to get up in the morning and get on with her day. Each day felt like a new obstacle to face, a new mountain to climb. The anger and hatred that grew inside her was literally sapping all of the energy from her heart, body, and soul.
It was for this reason that Morgause had suggested staying with the druids for a while. She had rushed the training, and hadn't given Morgana time to rest and recover emotionally. Morgana didn't honestly think she would ever recover. How was she to recover from the realization that one of her closest friends had tried to poison her?
Morgana wished it didn't hurt anymore. She was trying desperately to harden her heart to the very thought of Merlin and what he had done to her. She wished she could purge him from her memories, to forget that she had ever met Merlin. But she couldn't. So she had agreed to come and stay with the druids for a while. Perhaps they could help her find the peace that she so urgently needed to put it all behind her.
She had actually stopped for the night at a camp not far from the druids' camp. She could sense that they were close, but she didn't want to frighten them by sneaking up on them in the dark. She settled in a patch of trees and lit a fire, using the spell Morgause had taught her. But before she had even had time to begin preparing some food for dinner, two large druids burst into her camp. She wasn't sure if they knew who she was or if they were a mere patrol who thought she was a threat to the camp, so she raised her hands innocently. "I'm here to stay with the druids!" she cried. "I'm the lady Morgana!"
The druids merely picked her up and carried her to the camp, dropping her at Mordred's feet. "You know this woman?" they asked him gruffly.
Morgana had the very strange feeling that Merlin was trying to get something out of her... like there was something she was supposed to say that would solve everything. But she didn't have any more answers than he did. Maybe he knew about Morgause? But Morgana wasn't even sure that her meeting with Morgause had actually happened. She didn't remember anything after Morgause telling her that she could help with her plan. She didn't remember hearing the plan, or how she could help. She didn't even remember walking back to the castle. She had simply awakened in her bed as if she had been there all along. How could Merlin possibly know about that if she didn't even know for sure what had really happened?
"I-I don't know what else to tell you," she said shakily. "I woke up this morning and everyone around me seemed to be getting ill. I don't know what caused it. If I did, I swear I would tell you. I don't want anyone to get hurt."
Except for Uther, she thought to herself, glancing over at the king's sleeping form. Her anger towards him had not faded, and she still longed to be rid of him. But this was not how she wanted it. He was the only one who was supposed to die.
Far more often than she would like to admit, Morgana found herself longing for the comfort and luxury of her chambers back at Camelot. She missed the warm, soft bed, the clean sheets, the warmth of the fire. She had to find her way back there somehow, to get back the throne that rightly should have been hers. Not Guinevère's.
But her list of allies seemed to be shrinking by the day. Uther's campaign to rid the world of magic had taken its toll, and many who would have fought by her side were now dead. The druids, who she had seen as possible allies, refused to fight at all, preferring peace over violence. But she simply couldn't do this alone.
What she needed was to find allies outside of the allied kingdoms. There were powerful lands up north and in other places, filled with people who didn't know Arthur or the Pendragon name, and who might not have the same hatred and fear of magic.
The trouble was, Morgana didn't want to travel that far away, not without knowing more about these other kingdoms or their people. It was risky, if she didn't know what awaited her there, she might end up in worse danger than she was in now.
These thoughts were weighing heavily on her mind as she walked through the forest toward her hovel. She was carrying a basket full of herbs that she had been harvesting for a ritual she was planning, and, in her dark cloak, she would have looked like just any other poor woman, cast out of her own town.
But she was cautious, as she had to be, in case the knights of Camelot happened upon her. They would not be fooled by her cloak and hood. So when she heard footsteps up ahead, she stopped dead in her tracks and listened for a long moment. Perhaps it was only a stag.
When she didn't hear anything for several minutes, Morgana continued walking, stepping into a small clearing. That was when she saw the girl.
Well, it wasn't a knight of Camelot, at least. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you," she said in her most innocent voice. "You can lower your weapon, I mean no harm. I'm just passing through on my way home. Can I help you with something?"
I was thinking that it might make sense for her to meet up with Morgana in the woods (I'm thinking sometime in season 4), and Morgana could invite her in to her cabin as a "friendly" gesture. She could act like she's just an innocent, poor woman who was cast out of Camelot for having magic. You can start a thread in the woods, and I'll answer you.
Hello! I could see Morgana doing a thread with Damara, since you are a traveler. She's always looking for new allies, and since you're from a different tribe, I could try to persuade you to my way of thinking.
In Character Chat
This chat box is for IC [In Character] Chat! It is a place for members to muse and converse as their characters with lots of IC shenanigans! Happy Chatting Everyone!
My name is Catherine by the way; Call me Kate. *Smiles* You're lucky to have your mother, I ... wish I had at least someone I can talk to, You know? At least i have Arthur. *sits by the window and looks out*
How are you ? Forgive me, I'm Princess Emily Dawson of Anglia, I'm here to a visit with Arthur! *Smiles light Curtsy *
Feb 24, 2019 21:03:14 GMT -5
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