[Fic] Nor could she ever foresee without fear (pt. 3) - for sophinisba
Title: Nor could she ever foresee without fear
Author: Anonymous
Recipient: sophinisba
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Gwen/Morgana, Arthur/Merlin preslash if you like
Warnings: A bit of violence and language
Spoilers: For Season 1; this disregards Season 2, though there are a few (very, very) minor references to it
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~10,973
Summary: Camelot is astir with the quest for the witch, the traitor. Morgana.
Author's Note: I want to give a big thank-you to my betas, who did an excellent job at finding all the little mistakes and all the big ones. G and I, thank you both so much for betaing this, and on such short notice! ♥ Title for this taken from an Old English poem which I found translated into modern English here.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction - none of this ever happened. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is made from this work. Please observe your local laws with regards to the age-limit and content of this work.
[ Part 1]
[ Part 2]
By the time Arthur reins his horse to a stop, all three of them are exhausted. Arthur makes a small fire and they all eat quickly, wordlessly. Gwen is the first to curl into her blanket for sleep. As soon as Arthur can be sure she's asleep, he speaks.
"Why would she leave a path?"
When Merlin looks over at him, Arthur is poking at the fire with a stick, eyes reflecting the flame.
"I don't know," he answers.
"If she were evil," Arthur continues, "of course, her purpose would be obvious. But why would she leave a path if she weren't evil? How could she know we would come after her?"
"Perhaps she didn't chose to leave," Merlin says.
"Perhaps," Arthur says. They are silent after that.
--
Arthur rouses them both before dawn, and after a quick breakfast, they are off, following the faint footprints shining beneath the dew. Arthur is forced to forego certain paths which would be problematic for their horses, and despite his own misgivings, they always manage to find their way back to Morgana's footprints regardless.
Around midday, they stop briefly to water their horses and take dinner.
Gwen indicates a dense area. "I'll be right back."
Arthur nods. "You have your dagger?"
"Yes," she answers, and is off.
"Do you recognize where we're going?" Merlin asks Arthur in a whisper, glancing toward Gwen's retreating form.
"All I can tell you is that we are moving southward. We left Camelot long ago," Arthur answers.
Merlin sighs and pulls his jacket tighter around him.
--
Gwen tries to find her way through the thick underbrush. She'd noted where the footprints led, and a draw on her bladder had given her the right excuse to follow it. She has no intention of finding anything; she simply wants to feel closer to Morgana. She simply wants something that is Morgana - she simply wants something, simply wants, simple.
It isn't simple, however, when, after relieving herself, she hears something, a rustle. She walks crouching close to the ground and hides behind a small hillock. Then she sees them.
Morgana and a woman are sleeping on the ground. Morgana was the one she had heard, as it would seem she was having her usual nightmares. She is pale, so pale, and curled into herself for warmth; the woman, also slightly curled is seemingly more relaxed. A bag sits next to her, and its flap is ever-so-slightly askew. Gwen has the urge to pull it open, and the bag itself seems to sing to her, call to her.
She stands and moves forward; the stranger stirs, turning on to her other side, away from Gwen. Gwen approaches slowly, eyes flying between the woman (to be sure she is still asleep) and the ground (to be sure the woman will stay asleep). Each and every sound she makes is amplified a thousand times in her ears. Her heart beats so quickly that she is surprised it doesn't burst forth and onto the forest floor before her.
As soon as Gwen is close enough, she grabs the satchel and silently brings it to her bosom, and, holding it fast, turns and walks quickly away to her previous hiding spot.
She rifles through the items, finding small books with foreign titles and strange bags of powders. And - Gwen has to contain a gasp as she sees it - a dark gray orb, something she'd only heard about from castle gossip or stories. This, Gwen realizes, must have been the soothsayer she'd heard whispers about around the castle; all the maidservants had been giggling about fortunes told, husbands seen in the orb as swirls of color danced across it. Others had talked of having their mind (frighteningly accurately) read by this woman. At first Gwen had rolled her eyes at the incessant need to know one's fate, later she had been chilled by what a few women had said the soothsayer had seen in their minds, and now…
The orb swirls furiously, just as clouds might traverse the sky on a stormy day. It frightens her; she peeks out to see the woman - the witch - and Morgana still asleep. She must rid of all of it; she heard once - perhaps it had been Uther's angry suggestion, perhaps an old tale she heard when she was younger - she heard once that the only way to weaken a sorcerer whilst he is still alive is to burn his magical objects. Undoubtedly, then, this woman is a sorceress; but whether Morgana had been kidnapped or otherwise is irrelevant. Gwen resolves to destroy these items whether it would save Morgana or make her angry; for in her heart, she knows it would benefit Morgana. She only hopes Morgana had not come willingly, that her lady is still the woman Gwen had always known.
She takes out the crystal orb, clearing out an area so that she could set the bag, full of the other items, onto a patch of dirt. She sets the orb aside for the moment and strikes a piece of wood against the flint she had retrieved from her bag. It takes a few tries to light, but as soon as it does she shoves the stick into the bag with haste; she waits.
Moments later, a black spot appears on the outside of the bag; then, a hole, followed by flames licking through it and into the air. Gwen lets out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding; she smiles for a moment, almost happy. The items in the bag have caught fire now as well. Gwen gathers some small twigs and lights a few more sticks, throwing them in different spots in the satchel.
The bag is nearly completely burned through when she hears a sound. Looking over to where the witch and Morgana are sleeping, her stomach drops. The witch is staring at the burning satchel, livid.
--
Sybil awakens and reaches for her satchel. Upon not finding it, she sits up quickly. It isn't here. She glances over at Morgana, who's still curled into herself. It would be no use searching her: Sybil already knows it isn't she who has taken it.
She stands and looks around. She hears something, and follows the sound.
"What are you doing?"
The dark woman looks up and her eyes widen. "N-nothing," she begins, but then Sybil walks quickly toward her.
"Who are you?"
The woman - a servant, judging by her dress - backs up. Sybil approaches.
"You're Morgana's maid, aren't you?" she says, as she nears the other. "So this is who Uther sends to find his ward, the traitor of Camelot?"
The woman only glares at her.
"Put it out," Sybil says, voice increasingly manic. "Put it out! I'll have your head, you slut!"
"No," the servant says defiantly. "You're a witch."
Sybil laughs. "So is your lady, there," she says. She reaches for her water-skin at her hip, and realizes with a start she'd taken it off before sleep. Looking down at the servant's hands, she sees that she holds two water-skins, Sybil's and her own. Just as Sybil glances at them, she thrusts them behind her back.
"You wretched-" Sybil begins, but suddenly the servant looks past her and whispers.
"Morgana!"
Sybil turns around to see the King's ward leaning against a tree, tired with a restless night's sleep and the drugs Sybil's been giving her.
"Morgana," Sybil says, as calmly as she can, "Morgana, please help me calm this servant of Uther's. She's going to betray you to him!"
Morgana looks at her blearily, blinking a few times. She focuses on the servant and utters a quiet, "Gwen…?"
Sybil turns back around and looks down at her satchel. It's nearly all burned, now, just the remnants remaining.
"Morgana!" she shouts, turning around again, trying with all her might to hide her despair. "My lady, this fool has burned all the items I could have used! To heal you, to help you become a powerful sorceress, to help you defeat Uther…!" Suddenly, she screams. She turns around to see the servant has dropped the water-skins in favor of stealing her crystal orb, and has thrown it with all her might against a tree. It swirls shades of gray and sickly green. She watches in terror as the servant runs to pick it up before Sybil can even think to react, throwing it against a different tree this time, one that looks far sturdier and does, in fact, cause a small crack to appear on the orb.
"Morgana, my lady!" Sybil tries again. She turns to Morgana, but too slow: a pain wrenches her in the side, a profound cold washes over her, and then she falls.
--
The voices woke her.
Morgana stands on shaky legs. She feels more tired than she had been before sleep, and colder. Sybil is not where Morgana reckons she'd slept, and she can still hear the shouting. Following the sound, she sees a familiar form.
"Morgana!" She hears her own name, tries to focus her eyes. Gwen… Gwen, of all people…
"Gwen?" she ventures, to be sure it's her maidservant, her friend, her love, and has a faint idea that Sybil - who is between her and Gwen - has just said something. She repeats her friend's name, softer, just as Sybil begins to shout, even louder than before. "…to heal you, to help you become a powerful sorceress, to help you defeat Uther…!" At the King's name Morgana remembers her hatred of him, of the way he'd so brashly accused Gwen's father of sorcery, had hurt Guinevere and Morgana herself.
Remembering how Gwen had come to Morgana each night after Gwen's father's death, Morgana is overcome with love for the woman who now stands so bravely in front of her, if a little blurry. Morgana doesn't know why she might be here, only that she is, only that she is accusing Sybil of sorcery…
She hears a loud crack and a shriek. She widens her eyes until they focus completely on the orb as it quickly changes color. She reaches for her belt to defend Gwen, her Gwen, even as Sybil cries out against Uther. She remembers that Sybil called Arthur her only hope, and Morgana thinks that if that were at all true, that she should be willing to wait for Arthur to take the throne than prove herself evil and get him there quickly, because she could be sure Arthur's first action as King would have been punishing Morgana to death for the murder of his father. And none of it would pay out.
Morgana draws the dagger before she can even realize her aim, and, from some depth of her soul, manages to make it fly toward Sybil even as the woman - the witch - turns to her. The dagger stabs Sybil's stomach, and as Morgana looks into her wide eyes, it turns. Sybil lets out a whimper and falls to the ground, eyes slowly growing glassy, her blood running into the earth even as the liquid in the orb darkens the dirt where the orb's broken in two, Gwen standing over it, breathing heavily.
Morgana meets her eyes and collapses.
--
When Morgana awakens, it is to see Gwen - and Merlin, and Arthur - looking down upon her, Gwen stroking her hair gently. She starts with a jolt, sitting up. "No," she says. "No, no…"
"Morgana," Gwen says, voice soft in her ear, "my lady, shh."
"Don't take me back to Uther," she says, pulling away from Arthur and further into Gwen's embrace. "I didn't-"
"I know," Arthur says, "look." Morgana stills long enough for him to place a hand on her arm, and she glances at Merlin, whose expression Morgana cannot discern, but whose eyes seem sad.
Then Arthur tells her about the boy who'd come to Uther, about how Uther had come to believe she was a witch…
"But I am," she whispers, eyes hot with tears. "I'm a sorceress."
"That doesn't matter," Arthur says, looking away. "You are as a sister to me, and my father's ward. I've no idea what his plans were for your return, but I am not leading you to your death."
"Then what?" Morgana asks softly, after a pause.
"I could not insist your innocence, no matter what I choose; but I can tell him you took your own life when we found you. The witch he knows nothing of, not truly."
Morgana nods, and when she adjusts her position so as to allow her to see Sybil's body, Gwen whispers in her ear and draws her to her bosom. Morgana catches a sight of red and screws her eyes shut, turning in to the warm embrace.
"Let's move away from here," Merlin says, eyes fixated on Sybil's own.
--
Sometime later, Arthur mentions provisions and other technical matters.
"I believe we have enough for a few more days," Gwen says.
"I didn't pack that much," Morgana says weakly, just as Arthur says, "Certainly not."
"I'm staying," Gwen answers them both, looking down. "I'm staying with Morgana." All eyes turn to her, but only Morgana says anything.
"Gwen, you can't put yourself in danger-"
"Morgana, please," Gwen interrupts, looking around at them all. "Camelot is my home, but I've nothing left there, not anymore. I'd rather be with you, my lady, than anywhere you're not."
Merlin and Arthur exchange glances; Gwen looks down at the forest floor once more.
"I suppose you're right," Arthur says quietly, after a few moments. "Very well."
They settle the miniscule matter of provisions and the gargantuan matter of how Arthur will find them once he's crowned; for, he'd insisted, he will find them once more and return them to the safety of Camelot. They have no idea as to how long the spell will last, but Merlin makes a guess (rather, works off the scant material he can remember from the book) that as long as Arthur keeps Morgana's hairbrush, it will work. Both Guinevere and Morgana adopt pseudonyms - Gemma for Gwen and Maura for Morgana - and as Merlin and Arthur mount their horses, look around themselves at the darkening forest.
As soon as Arthur and Merlin's forms disappear into the horizon, the forest finally seems to quiet.
"I hope Arthur's Camelot comes soon," Morgana says, clasping Gwen's hand.
"Aye, my lady," Gwen answers.
After a moment, Morgana turns to Gwen with a vague smile on her face. "There's to be no more of this 'my lady' nonsense, Guinevere."
"Aye, Maura," Gwen says. She smiles gently in return.
"Aye, Gemma."
--
Arthur and Merlin return to Camelot the following night.
"I know where Llymn is quartered," Merlin whispers, as they return the horses to the stables. They waste no time in going to the nearest inn, Arthur angrily asking for Llymn and being directed toward the appropriate room. Llymn is still awake in his bed, and he jolts when they enter, pulling his knees to his chest.
"Sire-" Llymn begins, but Arthur rushes over to him and draws his sword to Llymn's throat before he can continue.
"Your witch is dead," Arthur grits out. "Your witch and our lady Morgana both. Before Morgana killed herself she revealed the truth; now admit it."
"My mother is dead, but she is no witch."
"She enchanted Morgana - ensnared her. The story you related to Uther was a vicious lie. "
Llymn glances between both Arthur and Merlin with wide eyes, mouth gaping as a fish's out of water.
"Tell the truth!" Arthur presses the sword point against Llymn's throat; Merlin can see a drop of blood arise on the spot, even in the darkness.
"Arthur-" he tries, and Arthur relaxes his grip ever so slightly.
"She was all I had," Llymn whispers. "She truly is dead?"
"And all her items destroyed."
Llymn swallows and winces. Arthur withdraws the sword completely and wipes the tip of the sword on the side of his trousers, placing it back into its scabbard.
"You will leave Camelot," he says quietly, without question. "You will leave Camelot and never return."
"At least let me pack my things," Llymn says.
"Arthur," Merlin admonishes quietly.
Arthur nods, and watches Llymn carefully as he packs some items into a satchel.
Llymn walks in front as they leave the inn, and as soon as they are outside, Arthur draws his sword and holds it in the center of Llymn's back. Arthur directs him toward the wilderness, far away from the town itself. "Go," he says. "Never return."
Llymn does, looking fearfully back at them both occasionally. Once he is a substantial distance away, Arthur brings his sword down to his side once more. He sighs and turns back in the direction of the castle, Merlin following him, the both of them exhausted from everything, exhausted.
--
The druids about the women stir, voices ringing in the air. The women stay, though, curious. They sense no danger; in fact, if anything, they feel hope.
"Look," one says. They watch the men approach them on horseback, one towheaded and wearing a crown, the other wearing some sort of dress robes and a cap.
"Maura," one druid calls to them, "Gemma!"
The women do not listen; instead, they watch as the King (for King he must be) dismounts and walks up to them.
"Morgana," he says, "Guinevere."
"Yes," the women say. "My King."
Gemma steps forward to clasp Maura's hand - no longer in hiding, no longer Gemma and Maura, but rather Guinevere and Morgana - Guinevere steps forward and clasps Morgana's hand - and they gaze upon their King, their hope. He bows to them.
"Please," he says, "please."
- finis -
A quick note on the spells: I used online dictionaries (this one for the most part) for these, so I don't claim them to be correct.
Ábeþece pæð Morganaes = I found that Ábeþece is an imperative that means "Find!", pæð means "path," and Morganaes, from what I observed, should be the possessive of Morgana - so the entire spell means "Find the path of Morgana."
I also used these imperatives in Sybil's spell:
belíefe = believe
féoge = hate, persecute
ábradwe = overthrow, kill
Author: Anonymous
Recipient: sophinisba
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Gwen/Morgana, Arthur/Merlin preslash if you like
Warnings: A bit of violence and language
Spoilers: For Season 1; this disregards Season 2, though there are a few (very, very) minor references to it
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~10,973
Summary: Camelot is astir with the quest for the witch, the traitor. Morgana.
Author's Note: I want to give a big thank-you to my betas, who did an excellent job at finding all the little mistakes and all the big ones. G and I, thank you both so much for betaing this, and on such short notice! ♥ Title for this taken from an Old English poem which I found translated into modern English here.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction - none of this ever happened. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is made from this work. Please observe your local laws with regards to the age-limit and content of this work.
[ Part 1]
[ Part 2]
By the time Arthur reins his horse to a stop, all three of them are exhausted. Arthur makes a small fire and they all eat quickly, wordlessly. Gwen is the first to curl into her blanket for sleep. As soon as Arthur can be sure she's asleep, he speaks.
"Why would she leave a path?"
When Merlin looks over at him, Arthur is poking at the fire with a stick, eyes reflecting the flame.
"I don't know," he answers.
"If she were evil," Arthur continues, "of course, her purpose would be obvious. But why would she leave a path if she weren't evil? How could she know we would come after her?"
"Perhaps she didn't chose to leave," Merlin says.
"Perhaps," Arthur says. They are silent after that.
--
Arthur rouses them both before dawn, and after a quick breakfast, they are off, following the faint footprints shining beneath the dew. Arthur is forced to forego certain paths which would be problematic for their horses, and despite his own misgivings, they always manage to find their way back to Morgana's footprints regardless.
Around midday, they stop briefly to water their horses and take dinner.
Gwen indicates a dense area. "I'll be right back."
Arthur nods. "You have your dagger?"
"Yes," she answers, and is off.
"Do you recognize where we're going?" Merlin asks Arthur in a whisper, glancing toward Gwen's retreating form.
"All I can tell you is that we are moving southward. We left Camelot long ago," Arthur answers.
Merlin sighs and pulls his jacket tighter around him.
--
Gwen tries to find her way through the thick underbrush. She'd noted where the footprints led, and a draw on her bladder had given her the right excuse to follow it. She has no intention of finding anything; she simply wants to feel closer to Morgana. She simply wants something that is Morgana - she simply wants something, simply wants, simple.
It isn't simple, however, when, after relieving herself, she hears something, a rustle. She walks crouching close to the ground and hides behind a small hillock. Then she sees them.
Morgana and a woman are sleeping on the ground. Morgana was the one she had heard, as it would seem she was having her usual nightmares. She is pale, so pale, and curled into herself for warmth; the woman, also slightly curled is seemingly more relaxed. A bag sits next to her, and its flap is ever-so-slightly askew. Gwen has the urge to pull it open, and the bag itself seems to sing to her, call to her.
She stands and moves forward; the stranger stirs, turning on to her other side, away from Gwen. Gwen approaches slowly, eyes flying between the woman (to be sure she is still asleep) and the ground (to be sure the woman will stay asleep). Each and every sound she makes is amplified a thousand times in her ears. Her heart beats so quickly that she is surprised it doesn't burst forth and onto the forest floor before her.
As soon as Gwen is close enough, she grabs the satchel and silently brings it to her bosom, and, holding it fast, turns and walks quickly away to her previous hiding spot.
She rifles through the items, finding small books with foreign titles and strange bags of powders. And - Gwen has to contain a gasp as she sees it - a dark gray orb, something she'd only heard about from castle gossip or stories. This, Gwen realizes, must have been the soothsayer she'd heard whispers about around the castle; all the maidservants had been giggling about fortunes told, husbands seen in the orb as swirls of color danced across it. Others had talked of having their mind (frighteningly accurately) read by this woman. At first Gwen had rolled her eyes at the incessant need to know one's fate, later she had been chilled by what a few women had said the soothsayer had seen in their minds, and now…
The orb swirls furiously, just as clouds might traverse the sky on a stormy day. It frightens her; she peeks out to see the woman - the witch - and Morgana still asleep. She must rid of all of it; she heard once - perhaps it had been Uther's angry suggestion, perhaps an old tale she heard when she was younger - she heard once that the only way to weaken a sorcerer whilst he is still alive is to burn his magical objects. Undoubtedly, then, this woman is a sorceress; but whether Morgana had been kidnapped or otherwise is irrelevant. Gwen resolves to destroy these items whether it would save Morgana or make her angry; for in her heart, she knows it would benefit Morgana. She only hopes Morgana had not come willingly, that her lady is still the woman Gwen had always known.
She takes out the crystal orb, clearing out an area so that she could set the bag, full of the other items, onto a patch of dirt. She sets the orb aside for the moment and strikes a piece of wood against the flint she had retrieved from her bag. It takes a few tries to light, but as soon as it does she shoves the stick into the bag with haste; she waits.
Moments later, a black spot appears on the outside of the bag; then, a hole, followed by flames licking through it and into the air. Gwen lets out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding; she smiles for a moment, almost happy. The items in the bag have caught fire now as well. Gwen gathers some small twigs and lights a few more sticks, throwing them in different spots in the satchel.
The bag is nearly completely burned through when she hears a sound. Looking over to where the witch and Morgana are sleeping, her stomach drops. The witch is staring at the burning satchel, livid.
--
Sybil awakens and reaches for her satchel. Upon not finding it, she sits up quickly. It isn't here. She glances over at Morgana, who's still curled into herself. It would be no use searching her: Sybil already knows it isn't she who has taken it.
She stands and looks around. She hears something, and follows the sound.
"What are you doing?"
The dark woman looks up and her eyes widen. "N-nothing," she begins, but then Sybil walks quickly toward her.
"Who are you?"
The woman - a servant, judging by her dress - backs up. Sybil approaches.
"You're Morgana's maid, aren't you?" she says, as she nears the other. "So this is who Uther sends to find his ward, the traitor of Camelot?"
The woman only glares at her.
"Put it out," Sybil says, voice increasingly manic. "Put it out! I'll have your head, you slut!"
"No," the servant says defiantly. "You're a witch."
Sybil laughs. "So is your lady, there," she says. She reaches for her water-skin at her hip, and realizes with a start she'd taken it off before sleep. Looking down at the servant's hands, she sees that she holds two water-skins, Sybil's and her own. Just as Sybil glances at them, she thrusts them behind her back.
"You wretched-" Sybil begins, but suddenly the servant looks past her and whispers.
"Morgana!"
Sybil turns around to see the King's ward leaning against a tree, tired with a restless night's sleep and the drugs Sybil's been giving her.
"Morgana," Sybil says, as calmly as she can, "Morgana, please help me calm this servant of Uther's. She's going to betray you to him!"
Morgana looks at her blearily, blinking a few times. She focuses on the servant and utters a quiet, "Gwen…?"
Sybil turns back around and looks down at her satchel. It's nearly all burned, now, just the remnants remaining.
"Morgana!" she shouts, turning around again, trying with all her might to hide her despair. "My lady, this fool has burned all the items I could have used! To heal you, to help you become a powerful sorceress, to help you defeat Uther…!" Suddenly, she screams. She turns around to see the servant has dropped the water-skins in favor of stealing her crystal orb, and has thrown it with all her might against a tree. It swirls shades of gray and sickly green. She watches in terror as the servant runs to pick it up before Sybil can even think to react, throwing it against a different tree this time, one that looks far sturdier and does, in fact, cause a small crack to appear on the orb.
"Morgana, my lady!" Sybil tries again. She turns to Morgana, but too slow: a pain wrenches her in the side, a profound cold washes over her, and then she falls.
--
The voices woke her.
Morgana stands on shaky legs. She feels more tired than she had been before sleep, and colder. Sybil is not where Morgana reckons she'd slept, and she can still hear the shouting. Following the sound, she sees a familiar form.
"Morgana!" She hears her own name, tries to focus her eyes. Gwen… Gwen, of all people…
"Gwen?" she ventures, to be sure it's her maidservant, her friend, her love, and has a faint idea that Sybil - who is between her and Gwen - has just said something. She repeats her friend's name, softer, just as Sybil begins to shout, even louder than before. "…to heal you, to help you become a powerful sorceress, to help you defeat Uther…!" At the King's name Morgana remembers her hatred of him, of the way he'd so brashly accused Gwen's father of sorcery, had hurt Guinevere and Morgana herself.
Remembering how Gwen had come to Morgana each night after Gwen's father's death, Morgana is overcome with love for the woman who now stands so bravely in front of her, if a little blurry. Morgana doesn't know why she might be here, only that she is, only that she is accusing Sybil of sorcery…
She hears a loud crack and a shriek. She widens her eyes until they focus completely on the orb as it quickly changes color. She reaches for her belt to defend Gwen, her Gwen, even as Sybil cries out against Uther. She remembers that Sybil called Arthur her only hope, and Morgana thinks that if that were at all true, that she should be willing to wait for Arthur to take the throne than prove herself evil and get him there quickly, because she could be sure Arthur's first action as King would have been punishing Morgana to death for the murder of his father. And none of it would pay out.
Morgana draws the dagger before she can even realize her aim, and, from some depth of her soul, manages to make it fly toward Sybil even as the woman - the witch - turns to her. The dagger stabs Sybil's stomach, and as Morgana looks into her wide eyes, it turns. Sybil lets out a whimper and falls to the ground, eyes slowly growing glassy, her blood running into the earth even as the liquid in the orb darkens the dirt where the orb's broken in two, Gwen standing over it, breathing heavily.
Morgana meets her eyes and collapses.
--
When Morgana awakens, it is to see Gwen - and Merlin, and Arthur - looking down upon her, Gwen stroking her hair gently. She starts with a jolt, sitting up. "No," she says. "No, no…"
"Morgana," Gwen says, voice soft in her ear, "my lady, shh."
"Don't take me back to Uther," she says, pulling away from Arthur and further into Gwen's embrace. "I didn't-"
"I know," Arthur says, "look." Morgana stills long enough for him to place a hand on her arm, and she glances at Merlin, whose expression Morgana cannot discern, but whose eyes seem sad.
Then Arthur tells her about the boy who'd come to Uther, about how Uther had come to believe she was a witch…
"But I am," she whispers, eyes hot with tears. "I'm a sorceress."
"That doesn't matter," Arthur says, looking away. "You are as a sister to me, and my father's ward. I've no idea what his plans were for your return, but I am not leading you to your death."
"Then what?" Morgana asks softly, after a pause.
"I could not insist your innocence, no matter what I choose; but I can tell him you took your own life when we found you. The witch he knows nothing of, not truly."
Morgana nods, and when she adjusts her position so as to allow her to see Sybil's body, Gwen whispers in her ear and draws her to her bosom. Morgana catches a sight of red and screws her eyes shut, turning in to the warm embrace.
"Let's move away from here," Merlin says, eyes fixated on Sybil's own.
--
Sometime later, Arthur mentions provisions and other technical matters.
"I believe we have enough for a few more days," Gwen says.
"I didn't pack that much," Morgana says weakly, just as Arthur says, "Certainly not."
"I'm staying," Gwen answers them both, looking down. "I'm staying with Morgana." All eyes turn to her, but only Morgana says anything.
"Gwen, you can't put yourself in danger-"
"Morgana, please," Gwen interrupts, looking around at them all. "Camelot is my home, but I've nothing left there, not anymore. I'd rather be with you, my lady, than anywhere you're not."
Merlin and Arthur exchange glances; Gwen looks down at the forest floor once more.
"I suppose you're right," Arthur says quietly, after a few moments. "Very well."
They settle the miniscule matter of provisions and the gargantuan matter of how Arthur will find them once he's crowned; for, he'd insisted, he will find them once more and return them to the safety of Camelot. They have no idea as to how long the spell will last, but Merlin makes a guess (rather, works off the scant material he can remember from the book) that as long as Arthur keeps Morgana's hairbrush, it will work. Both Guinevere and Morgana adopt pseudonyms - Gemma for Gwen and Maura for Morgana - and as Merlin and Arthur mount their horses, look around themselves at the darkening forest.
As soon as Arthur and Merlin's forms disappear into the horizon, the forest finally seems to quiet.
"I hope Arthur's Camelot comes soon," Morgana says, clasping Gwen's hand.
"Aye, my lady," Gwen answers.
After a moment, Morgana turns to Gwen with a vague smile on her face. "There's to be no more of this 'my lady' nonsense, Guinevere."
"Aye, Maura," Gwen says. She smiles gently in return.
"Aye, Gemma."
--
Arthur and Merlin return to Camelot the following night.
"I know where Llymn is quartered," Merlin whispers, as they return the horses to the stables. They waste no time in going to the nearest inn, Arthur angrily asking for Llymn and being directed toward the appropriate room. Llymn is still awake in his bed, and he jolts when they enter, pulling his knees to his chest.
"Sire-" Llymn begins, but Arthur rushes over to him and draws his sword to Llymn's throat before he can continue.
"Your witch is dead," Arthur grits out. "Your witch and our lady Morgana both. Before Morgana killed herself she revealed the truth; now admit it."
"My mother is dead, but she is no witch."
"She enchanted Morgana - ensnared her. The story you related to Uther was a vicious lie. "
Llymn glances between both Arthur and Merlin with wide eyes, mouth gaping as a fish's out of water.
"Tell the truth!" Arthur presses the sword point against Llymn's throat; Merlin can see a drop of blood arise on the spot, even in the darkness.
"Arthur-" he tries, and Arthur relaxes his grip ever so slightly.
"She was all I had," Llymn whispers. "She truly is dead?"
"And all her items destroyed."
Llymn swallows and winces. Arthur withdraws the sword completely and wipes the tip of the sword on the side of his trousers, placing it back into its scabbard.
"You will leave Camelot," he says quietly, without question. "You will leave Camelot and never return."
"At least let me pack my things," Llymn says.
"Arthur," Merlin admonishes quietly.
Arthur nods, and watches Llymn carefully as he packs some items into a satchel.
Llymn walks in front as they leave the inn, and as soon as they are outside, Arthur draws his sword and holds it in the center of Llymn's back. Arthur directs him toward the wilderness, far away from the town itself. "Go," he says. "Never return."
Llymn does, looking fearfully back at them both occasionally. Once he is a substantial distance away, Arthur brings his sword down to his side once more. He sighs and turns back in the direction of the castle, Merlin following him, the both of them exhausted from everything, exhausted.
--
The druids about the women stir, voices ringing in the air. The women stay, though, curious. They sense no danger; in fact, if anything, they feel hope.
"Look," one says. They watch the men approach them on horseback, one towheaded and wearing a crown, the other wearing some sort of dress robes and a cap.
"Maura," one druid calls to them, "Gemma!"
The women do not listen; instead, they watch as the King (for King he must be) dismounts and walks up to them.
"Morgana," he says, "Guinevere."
"Yes," the women say. "My King."
Gemma steps forward to clasp Maura's hand - no longer in hiding, no longer Gemma and Maura, but rather Guinevere and Morgana - Guinevere steps forward and clasps Morgana's hand - and they gaze upon their King, their hope. He bows to them.
"Please," he says, "please."
- finis -
A quick note on the spells: I used online dictionaries (this one for the most part) for these, so I don't claim them to be correct.
Ábeþece pæð Morganaes = I found that Ábeþece is an imperative that means "Find!", pæð means "path," and Morganaes, from what I observed, should be the possessive of Morgana - so the entire spell means "Find the path of Morgana."
I also used these imperatives in Sybil's spell:
belíefe = believe
féoge = hate, persecute
ábradwe = overthrow, kill