It's not Betrayal

11- Sleep

Morgana grew increasingly impatient every time the sun rose. Years of waiting for her throne, and now, it was so close she could taste it. The crown haunted her dreams as she slept, and was the centrepiece of her every thought. The moon shone upon Camelot's walls in a perfect illumination.

This will be too easy, Morgana thought. She didn't even need an army, only her trusted shade.

"You have done well, Ygraine. Arthur is too distraught to consider any battle of sorts, and the thorn in my side Merlin, is petty enough to leave him alone. He is Court Sorcerer, you say?"

"Yes my Lady, but Arthur does not trust him. The position is purely honorary."

"I should've known he had magic. It's obvious to me now." Morgana's voice cracked. "All those times he could've told me." I wouldn't have been alone, she thought.

Her steely composure remained, hiding her brief falter. "It will please me to rid him of his magic when I rule Camelot. He will know no greater suffering."

The two women grasped hands as words of old religion spilled from Morgana's mouth. The weak sunlight warped and dimmed as Morgana's power unsettled the natural balance of order. An uneasy cold and silence settled over Camelot. Ygraine grew increasingly weaker and pale as hungry magic drained her energy. Cold sweat beaded on her forehead.

"My lady..." she gasped, "please."

Morgana watched as her shade sank to ground, whimpering desperately for mercy. "You didn't think I actually cared about you, did you?" She crooned. "Surely you guessed that you're not real like you used to be."

Ygraine could do nothing except look at her former master in horror. Backlit by the presence of the rising sun, grinning softly, Morgana was the last thing Ygraine saw.

~

Morgana carefully picked her way through the paths. She didn't care that Arthur had restored magic to the kingdom, she didn't care that she could finally be accepted for who she was, she only cared about the desperate need for revenge that plagued her soul.

So why could Morgana only hesitate when Arthur was right there? Unable to wake up, her spell rendering him and the citizens of Camelot in a slumber so deep they were on the edge of death. Why couldn't she kill him?

"Morgana."

The Priestess turned to a find a gangly serving boy, with dark hair and prominent ears. She disguised her surprise in a laugh.

"You must be a powerful sorcerer if you are able to resist my spell, Merlin."

Merlin had the decency to look surprised, maybe even afraid, but his face was instantly set into a blank mask as quickly as it left.

"All those years, Merlin. You must've known I had magic, and you couldn't tell me about your own? We could've shared our secrets, helped each other out."

"I am truly sorry, Morgana, but I couldn't do that, no matter how badly I wanted to."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She sneered.

"You're not yourself, Morgana. You haven't been ever since Morgause took you away."

"She's the only person that cared about me!"

"That's not true and you know it. Arthur loved you. He misses you, the old you. You don't see his face every time he fights against you. He would never wish any harm upon you."

"The old me is gone."

"You don't know what Morgause did to you."

"And you don't either."