(Untitled)

[shatteredseer]

[Waking visions, wandering around blindly. Shouting.]

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[not_a_clotpole]

[Arthur's been dozing in the training fields, nursing a slight hangover and the sound of shouting immediately jerks him awake.

Leaping to his feet and draws his sword.]

"Who goes there?!"

[shatteredseer]

[She doesn't see the sword, doesn't really see Arthur, just the faceless men in her mind, the whispered voices, his voice only brings back another vision to rage in her minds eye, Arthur dying, dead on the ground.] No, no you mustn't. Please. [Then a wild, wild laugh.] You think that will help? That will make us better? Oh no...

[not_a_clotpole]

[It's a good thing this Morgana doesn't want Arthur dead herself, because he makes himself a pretty good target as he stands there gaping at her.]

"Morgana...? How did you...? Why are you-?"

[shatteredseer]

Nononononono I won't, I won't, shut up! [She covers her ears after tugging fruitlessly at her long locks of hair - her eyes, if he manages to glimpse them are wilder than her voice. Broken. Not Morgana, no, not now.] I won't hurt him! Go away!

[not_a_clotpole]

[Arthur lowers his sword slightly, but doesn't let his guard down completely.

Still...that screaming...]

"Who are you speaking to? Is Morgause here?"

[He should have known that witch would turn against his sister.]

[shatteredseer]

No one, everyone, they won't leave me alone! [Who is he talking about? Morgana certainly doesn't know. But then she hardly knows she's talking to him and almost walks right into his blade.] They want to kill you. All of you. but you up into itty bitty pieces... No. NO. NO.

[not_a_clotpole]

[Well that if nothing else has Arthur sticking his sword in the ground and tentatively reaching out to take Morgana's hands.]

"It's all right, no-one's trying to kill me...at least not right now. Who told you all this?"

[shatteredseer]

[Her hands grip his tightly when he takes them. They're hands she's held many times before, familiar, somewhere in the haze that is her mind.] They are, always, and you never ever listens. No body listens. The castle talks and there's fire and gold and black. black. black. black. We'll all go black. Dead and rotting and it's all we deserve...

[not_a_clotpole]

[Arthur winces at the strength of Morgana's grip. And now that he's seeing her up close he notices something else... She seems so much older. It's only been a few months what has happened?]

"But who are they?" [He asks her again.] "Are they in the castle?"

[shatteredseer]

Everyone. Anyone. Saxons. Assassins. Bird, beast and man. [She leans close, now, whispers in his ear.] Time. The very stars themselves. Gobble us up and never let us be seen again. Never happy no, not for long. Never in my head. Never, never, never.

[not_a_clotpole]

[Arthur can only look at her in confusion, not understanding any of this.

And what exactly should he do? He can hardly bring Morgana to Gaius, she'd be killed on sight by any number of people.

In fact, it's dangerous for her to be here right now, but everything seems quiet.]

"Right...I think the heat's getting to you," [he ventures uncertainly.] "Why don't we go to the river and you can wash your face."

[shatteredseer]

Hot? No, no it's cold. So cold. Always alone. No friends. No love. No family. All gone. Rotting in the ground like we should be. They drown kittens in the river.

They'll drown you, too. Fairies want you.

[not_a_clotpole]

"Morgana, it's the middle of summer," [a very hot summer beyond that.] "You're not well...we should at least get into the shade."

[Obviously, Arthur could have done with some medical knowledge...he hasn't the faintest idea what to do with someone's who's hysterical.]

[shatteredseer]

[She's hot, yes, almost feverish but that's not the cause. She attempts to pull back from him, run. Another vision.]

No,no please, don't make him go. Please.

[not_a_clotpole]

[Arthur stops and briefly considers throwing her over his shoulder and tossing her in the river, which is something he might have done long ago. But now...]

"Which him? And go where?"

[shatteredseer]

Father, he'll die, they'll cut his belly open and please. please! [The fear of a child. She had had a tantrum akin to this when her father left her that last time in her home. He didn't listen. Had to go. Always had to go.]