Morgana explains herself to Mordred

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Before we begin, please set your Mordred's appearance. Eyes: <<cycle "$eye">> <<option "green eyes" "green">> <<option "blue eyes" "blue">> <<option "gray eyes" "gray">> <<option "brown eyes" "brown">> <<option "hazel eyes" "hazel">> <<option "violet eyes" "violet">> <<option "black eyes" "black">> <<option "amber eyes" "amber">> <</cycle>> Hair color: <<cycle "$hair">> <<option "dark brown, deep and rich and almost black." "dark brown">> <<option "chestnut brown, dark and lush." "chestnut brown">> <<option "light brown like honey." "light brown">> <<option "lush, dark blond." "dark blonde">> <<option "icy blond, cool and lush." "icy blonde">> <<option "golden blond, warm and lush." "golden blonde">> <<option "auburn, deep red." "auburn">> <<option "copper red, fiery." "copper red">> <<option "pure black like the midnight sky." "black">> <</cycle>> Hair type: <<cycle "$hair_type">> <<option "straight" "straight">> <<option "wavy" "wavy">> <<option "curly" "curly">> <<option "coily with corkscrew coils" "coilycurls">> <<option "coily and cloudlike" "coily">> <</cycle>> Complexion: <<cycle "$complexion">> <<option "ivory" "ivory">> <<option "warm beige" "warm beige">> <<option "cool beige" "cool beige">> <<option "rosy" "rosy">> <<option "tawny" "tawny">> <<option "olive" "olive">> <<option "light brown" "light brown">> <<option "sepia brown" "sepia brown">> <<option "golden brown" "golden brown">> <<option "russet brown" "russet brown">> <<option "dark brown" "dark brown">> <<option "warm black" "warm black">> <<option "cool black" "cool black">> <<option "deep black" "deep black">> <</cycle>> Mordred's pronouns: <<cycle "$gender">> <<option "he/him" "he">> <<option "she/her" "she">> <<option "they/them" "they">> <</cycle>> [[Next, some questions about your Mordred's personality and choices|SetMordred]]

<div class="titlelettersone" style='font-size: 100%;'>Llamagirl</div>

<<set $eye = "unknown">> <<set $hair = "unknown">> <<set $gender = "unknown">> <<set $magic = 50>> <<set $swordsmanship = 0>> <<set $persuasion = 50>> <<set $intimidation = 50>> <<set $deceit = 50>> <<set $independent = 50>> <<set $pendragon_magic = "1">> <<set $water_magic = 50>> <<set $honest = 50>> <<set $confident = 50>> <<set $impulsive = 50>> <<set $calm = 50>> <<set $kind = 50>> <<set $defiant = 50>> <<set $emotional = 50>> <<set $affable = 50>> <<set $complexion = "none">> <<set $age = "a few days old">> <<set $controlled_magic = 50>> <<set $hair_type = "no">> <<set $arthur to false>> <<set $gawain to false>> <<set $forgive = "">> <<set $throne = "">> <<set $knock = 0>> <<set $confront_morgana = 0>> <<set $said_lot = "">> <<set $morgana_love = 0>> <<set $want_revenge to false>> <<set $revelation = "">> <<set $arthur_stance = 0>> <<set $arthur_betrayal_stance = "">>

<<link "Stats" "stats">><</link>> <<link "Credits">> <<script>> Dialog.setup("Credits"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("credits").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>> <</link>>

Name: Known as Mordred Leudonus of Lothia - but more often than not called Mordred Le Fay Age: You are 12 years old. //A description of your likeness// You have $eye eyes, much like your parents, $hair $hair_type hair alike your mother's, Morgana and $complexion complexion like your father's, Arthur. <<link "« Return to game" $return>><</link>>

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<div class="titlelettersone" style='font-size: 150%;'>The Bastard of Camelot</div>

<<silently>> <<if $gender == "he">> <<set $pgen to 0, $child to "child">> <<elseif $gender == "she">> <<set $pgen to 1, $child to "child">> <<else>> <<set $pgen to 2, $child to "child">> <</if>> <</silently>> A couple questions before we begin! Did Mordred stay close with Arthur? Did he come to their birthday party? <div class="choice">[[Yes.|NextQuestion][$arthur to true]]</div> <div class="choice">[[No.|NextQuestion][$arthur to false]]</div>

How did Mordred react in chapter 3 to finding out that Morgana had kept their prophecy a secret? Did they understand the secrecy? Forgave her for it? Continued to feel betrayed? <div class="choice">[[They understood the secrecy.|NextQuestion1][$forgive to "understand"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[They felt betrayed, but quickly forgave her.|NextQuestion1][$forgive to "forgive"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[They felt betrayed, but said they'd forgive her in time.|NextQuestion1][$forgive to "willforgive"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[They felt betrayed, and found it hard to get over it.|NextQuestion1][$forgive to "betrayed"]]</div>

Does Mordred want the throne? If not, have they been vocal about not wanting it? <div class="choice">[[They want the throne.|NextQuestion2][$throne to "yes"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[They don't want the throne, but never spoke up about it.|NextQuestion2][$throne to "no_no"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[They don't want the throne, and have mentioned it before.|NextQuestion2][$throne to "no"]]</div>

Did Mordred keep in touch with Gawain? Does he come to their birthday? <div class="choice">[[Yes.|NextQuestion3][$gawain to true]]</div> <div class="choice">[[No.|NextQuestion3][$gawain to false]]</div>

<<verb 'is'>> [Down that slimy, shadowy crevice, spiraling out of control.] <<if gawain and arthur>> They'd even more happy than before, ever since Gawain and Arthur had started attending, too. Mordred stationed themselves outside/out on the field, in the heat of summer, hours before they'd even be spotted on the horizon, waiting for their guest. How could she not melt at that sight, even if she herself awaited Arthur with prickly apprehension. He's arrival - his //presence// - stirred too many unpleasant, bitter, seething/raw feelings in her, and memories just as murky. Tension stewed between them, and Arthur moved about her as if she might pounce at his throat at at any moment, navigating the spaces they shared as if they were battlegrounds. Donning an armor around her, of apprehension and nervous defiance, that came off around anyone else besides her. On the other hand, the Alistairs were pleasant company, and Morgana's family was always happy to . Yet in those rare moments when she found herself along with Kay, she could feel the undertows of tension lurking between them. Neither addressed/followed them or tried to cause a wave; Kay knew better than that, and Morgana had no interest to be lectured by someone who could never understand her position. <<elseif gawain>> They'd even more happy than before, ever since Gawain and Arthur had started attending, too. Mordred stationed themselves outside/out on the field, in the heat of summer, hours before they'd even be spotted on the horizon, waiting for their guest. How could she not melt at that endearing sight? The Alistairs were pleasant company, and Morgana's family was always happy to . Yet in those rare moments when she found herself along with Kay, she could feel the undertows of tension lurking between them. Neither addressed/followed them or tried to cause a wave; Kay knew better than that, and Morgana had no interest to be lectured by someone who could never understand her position. <<elseif arthur>> They'd even more happy than before, ever since Arthur had started attending, too. Mordred stationed themselves outside/out on the field, in the heat of summer, hours before they'd even be spotted on the horizon, waiting for their guest. How could she not melt at that sight, even if she herself awaited Arthur with prickly apprehension. He's arrival - his //presence// - stirred too many unpleasant, bitter, seething/raw feelings in her, and memories just as murky. Tension stewed between them, and Arthur moved about her as if she might pounce at his throat at at any moment, navigating the spaces they shared as if they were battlegrounds. Donning an armor around her, of apprehension and nervous defiance, that came off around anyone else besides her. On the other hand, the Alistairs were pleasant company, and Morgana's family was always happy to . Yet in those rare moments when she found herself along with Kay, she could feel the undertows of tension lurking between them. Neither addressed/followed them or tried to cause a wave; Kay knew better than that, and Morgana had no interest to be lectured by someone who could never understand her position. <</if>> She held her tongue for Mordred's sake; she wouldn't/'d never dare ruin their birthday just to be petty at Arthur. Accolon was plenty amiable and welcoming for the both of them. Each year, she Usually, Morgana would love nothing more than to soak in the bath after a feast or a long day out, leant back against Accolon chest as they talked and laughed and pruned in the scented water. But the day had been so smotheringly hot she could only bear a quick, cool, refreshing dip to wash away the sweat and heat that had seeped into her skin. <<if straignt wavy hair>> Reshreshing as it was, whatever invigorating effect it had faded swiftly, leaving her even more mellowed out as she slipped into her nightgown and sat down at her vanity to wipe away the tints and powder from her face/lips, eyes and cheeks, and give her hair a comb through as she tried to do every night before bed, a custom she picked up as a little girl and she'd dillignetly kept at it. She'd received a gift from her mother: a lovely silver brush with the handle fashioned in the shape of a snake; she'd loved it so much she'd use it till each and every strand of her hair was perfectl untangled, lulled into a sense of calm by the soothing, repetitive motions and the soft grazing sound of the bristles running through her locks. <<elseif curly hair>> Reshreshing as it was, whatever invigorating effect it had faded swiftly, leaving her even more mellowed out as she slipped into her nightgown and sat down at her vanity to wipe away the tints and powder from her face/lips, eyes and cheeks, and prepared her hair for sleep. She'd been taught as a little girl that the best way to maintain her curls springy and healthy and shiny was to take good care of it: spritz it every night with special concotions, gather it up at the top of her head, lay her head on silk cushions or even wrap it up in satin. She'd kept dillignetly to it, many times having to pester a sleepy Junia into doing the same for her ginger curls - sometimes she didn't even argue, just took the bottle and took care of Junia's hair herself. <<elseif coily hair>> Reshreshing as it was, whatever invigorating effect it had faded swiftly, leaving her even more mellowed out as she slipped into her nightgown and sat down at her vanity to wipe away the tints and powder from her face/lips, eyes and cheeks, and prepare her hair for sleep as she did every night. It was a custom she picked up as a little girl and she'd dillignetly kept at it, to ensure her hair was always healthy and pretty and lush. With the braids she fashioned now, she'd wrap them up delicately in a silk scarf. but first, she needed to take off the golded hair cuffs. She'd worn her best ones for the party, her favorite being the one shaped as a snake, coiling around the braid; it reminded her of the first she'd ever got, as a little child, from her mother. Morgana moved with no rush, slowed down by drowsiness. Some nights, when all she wanted to do was crawl under the sheets, it seemed such a tedious endeavor to carefully remove each one; yet other times she relished the process of it all, sitting in comfortable silence before the mirror, smelling faintly and sweetly of soap. No heavy thought, just a soothing sense of calm, like being lulled on the swaying sea. <</if>>

[[On to the story!|Start]]

This year's birthday party had been yet another resounding success, which Morgana measured every time by the joy on Mordred' face. <<if $gawain is true and $arthur is true>> ?They had been even happier and more eager for the occasion to come around ever since Gawain and Arthur started attending, too. Mordred stationed ?themself out in the field, in the heat of summer, hours before the guests would even be spotted on the horizon, waiting. How could she not melt at that sight, even if she herself awaited Arthur with prickly apprehension. His arrival - his //presence// - stirred too many unpleasant, bitter, raw feelings in her, and memories just as murky. On the shallow surface, they acted with civility and even a sort of apprehensive amiability, but beneath, tension stewed between them. Arthur moved about her as if she might pounce at his throat at any moment, navigating the spaces they shared as if they were battlegrounds. Donning an armor around her - guarded yet nervously defiant - that came off around anyone else besides her. Arthur had...surprised her. Each year she dreaded to hear he wouldn't arrive for Mordred's birthday, conjuring whatever ridiculous excuse. Then upon the news that he would indeed come, she'd dread his arrival, for what did it all mean? She didn't dare have the same unbridled hope as Mordred, which she feared may crush ?them so one day. She approached everything cautiously, and was able to see that while being present after years of absence was indeed a great feat for Arthur, she still didn't consider that enough. Yet for Mordred it was. Perhaps she would have seen matters brighter had Merlin not loomed over them all, fixed at Arthur's shoulder, dripping poison in his ear. At least the Alistairs were pleasant company, and Morgana's family was always happy to entertain them. All that mattered to her was that Gawain treated Mordred well, and in turn she could understand how ?they'd come to like the boy: he was exceedingly sweet, infinitely friendly, boundlessly energetic and really rather guileless. A part of her couldn't help but think that the friendship, if pursued into adulthood, may come to Mordred as a good aid. Yet in those rare moments when she found herself alone with Kay, she could feel the undertows of tension lurking between them. Neither followed them or tried to cause a wave; Kay knew better than that, and Morgana had no interest to be lectured by someone who could never understand her position. Both of them could play their parts well, though. Morgana had learnt his demeanor, as candid as it may have been, served just as a mask, too: that carefree, smiling, easygoing veneer to ward off any strain that there could be. <<elseif $gawain is true>> ?They had been even happier and more eager for the occasion to come around ever since Gawain started attending, too. Mordred stationed ?themself /out in the field, in the heat of summer, hours before the guests would even be spotted on the horizon, waiting. How could she not melt at that endearing sight? At least the Alistairs were pleasant company, and Morgana's family was always happy to entertain them. All that mattered to her was that Gawain treated Mordred well, and in turn she could understand how ?they'd come to like the boy: he was exceedingly sweet, infinitely friendly, boundlessly energetic and really rather guileless. A part of her couldn't help but think that the friendship, if pursued into adulthood, may come to Mordred as a good aid. Yet in those rare moments when she found herself alone with Kay, she could feel the undertows of tension lurking between them. Neither followed them or tried to cause a wave; Kay knew better than that, and Morgana had no interest to be lectured by someone who could never understand her position. Both of them could play their parts well, though. Morgana had learnt his demeanor, as candid as it may have been, served just as a mask, too: that carefree, smiling, easygoing veneer to ward off any strain that there could be. <<elseif $arthur is true>> ?They had been even happier and more eager for the occasion to come around ever since Arthur started attending, too. Mordred stationed ?themself out in the field, in the heat of summer, hours before the guests would even be spotted on the horizon, waiting. How could she not melt at that sight, even if she herself awaited Arthur with prickly apprehension. His arrival - his //presence// - stirred too many unpleasant, bitter, raw feelings in her, and memories just as murky. On the shallow surface, they acted with civility and even a sort of apprehensive amiability, but beneath, tension stewed between them. Arthur moved about her as if she might pounce at his throat at any moment, navigating the spaces they shared as if they were battlegrounds. Donning an armor around her - guarded yet nervously defiant - that came off around anyone else besides her. Arthur had...surprised her. Each year she dreaded to hear he wouldn't arrive for Mordred's birthday, conjuring whatever ridiculous excuse. Then upon the news that he would indeed come, she'd dread his arrival, for what did it all mean? She didn't dare have the same unbridled hope as Mordred, which she feared may crush ?them so one day. She approached everything cautiously, and was able to see that while being present after years of absence was indeed a great feat for Arthur, she still didn't consider that enough. Yet for Mordred it was. Perhaps she would have seen matters brighter had Merlin not loomed over them all, fixed at Arthur's shoulder, dripping poison in his ear. <</if>> [[Continue|MorganaBath]]

Usually, Morgana would have loved nothing more than to soak in the bath after a feast or a long day out; leant back against Accolon chest as they talked and laughed and pruned in the scented water. But the day had been so smotheringly hot she could only bear a quick, cool, refreshing dip to wash away the sweat and heat that had seeped into her skin. So she gave Accolon a kiss and left him to douse some more. She chuckled as she watched him submerge completely and resurface shaking his wet, reddish hair off like a dog. <<if $hair_type == "straight" or $hair_type == "wavy">> Reshreshing as it was, whatever invigorating effect the bath had swiftly faded, leaving her even more mellowed out as she slipped into her nightgown and sat down at her vanity to wipe away the tints and powders from her face. Once that was done, she picked a comb to run through her hair, as was her bedtime custom picked up as a little girl and dilligently kept to since. She'd received a gift from her mother: a lovely silver brush with the handle fashioned in the shape of a snake. She loved it so much she'd use it till each and every strand of her hair was perfectly untangled, and she herself was lulled into a sense of calm by the soothing, repetitive motions and the soft grazing sound of the bristles through her locks. Morgana moved with no rush, slowed down by drowsiness. There were nights when all she wanted to do was crawl under the sheets and this seemed to her such a tedious endeavor. Yet most times, like tonight, she relished the process of it all: sitting in comfortable silence before the mirror, smelling faintly and sweetly of soap. No heavy thought, just a soothing sense of calm, like being lulled on the swaying sea. <<elseif $hair_type == "curly">> Reshreshing as it was, whatever invigorating effect the bath had swiftly faded, leaving her even more mellowed out as she slipped into her nightgown and sat down at her vanity to wipe away the tints and powders from her face, and prepare her hair for sleep. She'd been taught as a little girl that the best way to maintain her curls springy and healthy and shiny was to treat them tenderly: spritz her hair every night with special concotions, gather it up with a cord then lay her head on silk cushions or wrap it up in satin. She'd kept dilligently to the nighttime ritual. Many times it was her who had to pester Junia into taking the same care of her own ginger curls. Mostly she just ended up taking the initiative; she found it as comforting to tend to Junia's hair as it did tending to her own, and Junia could never turn down such gentle-handed help. Morgana moved with no rush, slowed down by drowsiness. There were nights when all she wanted to do was crawl under the sheets and this seemed to her such a tedious endeavor. Yet most times, like tonight, she relished the process of it all: sitting in comfortable silence before the mirror, smelling faintly and sweetly of soap. No heavy thought, just a soothing sense of calm, like being lulled on the swaying sea. <<elseif $hair_type == "coilycurls" or $hair_type == "coily">> Reshreshing as it was, whatever invigorating effect the bath had swiftly faded, leaving her even more mellowed out as she slipped into her nightgown and sat down at her vanity to wipe away the tints and powders from her face, and prepare her hair for sleep as she did every night. It was a custom she picked up as a little girl that she'd dilligently kept at to ensure her hair was always healthy and pretty and lush. The braids she fashioned presently she wrapped up delicately in a silk scarf - but first, she needed to take off the golded hair cuffs. She'd worn her best ones for the party, including the favorite of her collection. That one was shaped like a snake, coiling around the braid, with a tiny sapphire gem for an eye, ever shining, ever watching. It reminded her of the first one she'd got as a little child, a gift from her mother. Morgana moved with no rush, slowed down by drowsiness. There were nights when all she wanted to do was crawl under the sheets and it seemed to her such a tedious endeavor to carefully remove each one. Yet most times, like tonight, she relished the process of it all: sitting in comfortable silence before the mirror, smelling faintly and sweetly of soap. No heavy thought, just a soothing sense of calm, like being lulled on the swaying sea. <</if>> <div class="choice">[[An urgent knock comes at the door.|MordredDoor][$knock to 1]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred yells from their chamber, "Get out!"|MordredDoor][$knock to 2]]</div>

<<if $knock == 1>> Her moment of serenity was shattered when the knock came at the door. There was an urgent, desperate quality to the knock such as you rarely hear, and it struck her to the marrow of her bones. She rushed to the door, fumbling to fasten her robe as she opened it to find Mordred on the threshold. "Mordred, are you alright?" She scoured their face for an answer. What she gleaned was more reason for alarm. She scanned the hallway up and down for what might have caused this and saw //him//. His sight alone ignited flames of wrath as swift and vicious as a flick of her fingers could. That clinched it; Lot was the cause of it all. She shouted after him, but he didn't even deign to look back, scurrying away like a scared, oversized rat slipping through the cracks. He would not get to ignore her so once she'd have him cornered. Yet for now, her only focus was Mordred. She turned to ?them. Her skin was prickling with dread, but her insides were aflame with anger. "What did he do?" <div class="choice">[["Told me the truth," Mordred said, taking a wary step back. "Of that night with Arthur."|Chapt4LotTruthHall][$confront_morgana to 1, $said_lot to "truth"]]</div> <div class="choice">[["Told me something horrible. Is it true?" Mordred stumbled back, weighing her warily.|Chapt4LotTruthHall][$confront_morgana to 2, $said_lot to "terrible"]]</div> <div class="choice">[["He told me something terrible. Is it true?" Mordred flung themself into her arms, seeking comfort.|Chapt4LotTruthHall][$confront_morgana to 3, $said_lot to "terrible"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred just cried, trying their best to get the words out through sobs. Letting her comfort them.|Chapt4LotTruthHall][$confront_morgana to 4, $said_lot to "terrible"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred just cried, trying their best to get the words out through sobs. Pulling away when she tried to comfort them.|Chapt4LotTruthHall][$confront_morgana to 5, $said_lot to "truth"]]</div> <<else>> Her moment of serenity was shattered when the scream came. She'd recognize ?their voice anywhere, no matter how muffled to an almost inarticulate drone or distorted by heavy emotion. Alarm struck to the marrow of her bones. She burst out the door - the sound of sloshing water and slipper shuffling at her back - at the same time that Mordred bolted out ?their own chamber. ?Their face suggested as much cause for agitation. "Mordred?" she asked, fumbling to fasten her robe and scanning the hallway. "I heard you shout, are you-" Then she saw //him//. He ignited flames of wrath as swift and vicious as a flick of her fingers could. That clinched it; Lot's presence could only spell trouble. "What do //you// think you're doing here?" He gave no answer. He cut his gaze to Morgana flittingly, as if her voice was a mere annoying buzz. In that flash of a moment, he looked smug, as smug as one looking from without at a caged animal that would otherwise tear him apart. He would not be able to so brazenly ignore her when she'd come to make him pay for whatever pain he had inflicted. For now, her only focus was Mordred. She turned to ?them. Her skin was prickling with dread, but her insides were aflame with anger. "What did he do?" <div class="choice">[["Told me the truth," Mordred said, taking a wary step back. "Of that night with Arthur."|Chapt4LotTruthHall][$confront_morgana to 1, $said_lot to "truth"]]</div> <div class="choice">[["Told me something horrible. Is it true?" Mordred stumbled back, putting distance between them.|Chapt4LotTruthHall][$confront_morgana to 2, $said_lot to "terrible"]]</div> <div class="choice">[["He told me something terrible. Is it true?" Mordred flung themself into her arms, seeking comfort.|Chapt4LotTruthHall][$confront_morgana to 3, $said_lot to "terrible"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred just cried, trying their best to get the words out through sobs. Letting her comfort them.|Chapt4LotTruthHall][$confront_morgana to 4, $said_lot to "terrible"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred just cried, trying their best to get the words out through sobs. Pulling away when she tried to comfort them.|Chapt4LotTruthHall][$confront_morgana to 5, $said_lot to "truth"]]</div> <</if>>

<<if $confront_morgana == 1>> Mordred took a wary step back, just out of her reach. Eyeing her as if she were a stranger, as if she were the one who had come here with dreadful intentions. "Told me the truth," ?they replied enigmatically, the few words holding such ominous power within them. "Truth?" Mordred dithered. ?They swallowed heavily and Morgana thought ?they'd swallow the rest of the explanation along but then ?they spoke: "He said you knew who Arthur was when you first met him. That - that you knew but he didn't know who you were and you still...you still," ?they stuttered to a stop. ?They forced ?themself to continue, looking as if the sole action of uttering the words pained ?them. "That you had me to complete your revenge against Arthur." <<elseif $confront_morgana == 2>> Mordred took a wary step back, just out of her reach. Eyeing her as if she were a stranger, as if she were the one who had come here with dreadful intentions. "Told me something terrible," ?they replied. A surge of wrath coursed through her. She sliced her gaze to the door he'd vanished through, wishing she might set him aflame by sheer will alone. "That horrible man. What did he say?" Mordred dithered. ?They swallowed heavily and Morgana thought ?they'd swallow the rest of the explanation along but then ?they spoke: "He said you knew who Arthur was when you first met him. That - that you knew but he didn't know who you were and you still...you still," ?they stuttered to a stop. ?They forced ?themself to continue, looking as if the sole action of uttering the words pained ?them. "That you had me to complete your revenge against Arthur." <<elseif $chapt4_confront_morgana == 3>> Mordred flung ?themself at her and she caught. She hold ?them tightly, let ?them press ?their face against her shoulder. ?Their frame quivered ever so slightly and ?their breath came short and rattling. Each panicked, wild beating of ?their heart resounded in Morgana's chest. She whispered soothingly at ?them and begged ?them to tell her what was wrong - each moment was torture as she helplessly tried to calm ?them. Nothing seemed to work. Mordred spoke at lenght, voice think and muffled: "He told me something terrible." A surge of wrath coursed through her. She sliced her gaze to the door Lot had vanished through, wishing she might set him aflame by sheer will alone. "That horrible man. What did he say?" Mordred pulled away to look at her face. ?They swallowed heavily and Morgana thought ?they'd swallowed the rest of the explanation along but then ?they spoke: "He said you knew who Arthur was when you first met him. That - that you knew but he didn't know who you were and you still...you still," ?they stuttered to a stop. ?They forced ?themself to continue, looking as if the sole action of uttering the words pained ?them. "That you had me to complete your revenge against Arthur." <<elseif $chapt4_confront_morgana == 4>> Mordred opened ?their mouth and burst into a deluge of tears before any word could make it out. The tears poured and poured and poured as panic fogged Morgana's mind. Mordred flung ?themself at her and she caught them, holding ?them tight. She tried to soothe ?them, though Morgana herself found that calm was far beyond her capacity - her thoughts were scrambled, her words came out rushed. She only clung to what simulacrum of it she could summon for Mordred's sake. It was clear ?they needed her now, but how could she help if she didn't even know what happened to ?them? At lenght, Mordred spoke, voice thick and wet: "He told me something terrible." A surge of wrath coursed through her. Unlike the fear and anguish, it was clear and sharp and red hot. She sliced her gaze to the door Lot had vanished through, wishing she might set him aflame by sheer will alone. "That horrible man. What did he say?" Mordred pulled away to look at her face. ?They swallowed heavily and Morgana thought ?they'd swallowed the rest of the explanation along but then ?they spoke: "He said you knew who Arthur was when you first met him. That - that you knew but he didn't know who you were and you still...you still," ?they stuttered to a stop. ?They forced ?themself to continue, looking as if the sole action of uttering the words pained ?them. "That you had me to complete your revenge against Arthur." <<elseif $chapt4_confront_morgana == 5>> Mordred opened ?their mouth and burst into a deluge of tears before any word could make it out. The tears poured and poured and poured as panic fogged Morgana's mind. She reached ou to wrap ?them in her arms and soothe ?them. Yet Mordred evaded her; ?they stumbled back as if clawed hands lunged out to grab ?them. Through Morgana's pain rose confusion and desperation. She had to cling on to her own veneer of calm. She couldn't crumble now. "What happened, darling?" "He told me something terrible." A surge of wrath coursed through her. She sliced her gaze to the door Lot had vanished through, wishing she might set him aflame by sheer will alone. "That horrible man. What did he say?" Mordred wiped at ?their face with ?their sleeve. ?They swallowed heavily and Morgana thought ?they'd swallow the rest of the explanation along but then ?they spoke, voice fragile and thin: "He said you knew who Arthur was when you first met him. That - that you knew but he didn't know who you were and you still...you still," ?they stuttered to a stop. ?They forced ?themself to continue, looking as if the sole action of uttering the words pained ?them. "That you had me to complete your revenge against Arthur." <</if>> "What?" Morgana could barely register what ?they said - her ears refused to hear, her mind refused to comprehend. She hoped she might echo the words and find new sounds, new meanings, but it was all very clear - like lightning striking to throw into relief gloomy, baleful clouds of storm. And what a storm brewed - no, raged already - overhead. The space between them was heavy with tension. It pressed down on Morgana's chest, bending the ribs, squeezing the lungs in panic's iron gripe, each inhale filled with too little air as she tried her best to keep herself together, to hold everything tightly under wraps. <<if $chapt4_said_lot == "terrible">> She searched Mordred's face. She hated that guarded look in ?their eyes, the suspicion plain in the taut lines of ?their face. The uncertainty wavering over ?their features, and the terror superposed over. Terror that Lot's words may actually ring true. <<else>> She searched Mordred's face. She hated the accusation ?their eyes shot at her, the taut line of ?their mouth. That terror, written so plainly all over, as the truth of Lot's words sunk in. <</if>> <<if $arthur is true>> Why should Mordred ever believe Lot? Years of his unfettered contempt would do well to raise ?their defenses and make ?them weigh each syllable that leaves his mouth as if it was the coin purse of a swindler who switches out the gold for bronze behind their back. She could still mend this, if only allowed to say her side of the story - perhaps even the one Mordred grew up with, the one that spared ?them of all the turmoil that now roiled within ?them. Yet Arthur's presence complicated everything. Mordred was one knock away from the man who could spoil all she'd built. She needed to find a way to mend this. "Mordred, darling, I need you to settle down," she entreated, modulating her tone and expression to a sweet calm she did not feel deeper than skin. <<else>> Why should Mordred ever believe Lot? Years of his unfettered contempt would do well to raise ?their defenses and make ?them weigh each syllable that leaves his mouth as if it was the coin purse of a swindler who switches out the gold for bronze behind their back. She could still mend this, if only allowed to say her side of the story - perhaps even the one Mordred grew up with, the one that spared ?them of all the turmoil that now roiled within ?them. She could still mend this. She had to. "Mordred, darling, I need you to settle down," she entreated, modulating her tone and expression to a sweet calm she did not feel deeper than skin. <</if>> "Morgana?" Accolon called out softly. "Did something happen?" He stood in the doorway, brow sheened by water and confusion, hair wet and darkened. At least she had him by her side. She corraled both inside and closed the door shut. Her legs felt weak, as if they might give away any moment under the mounting dread that thickened the air and suffocated them. She dug her nails into the knob and leant against the sturdy wood, briefly allowing it to support her frame and the weight on her shoulders. She inhaled deeply, forcing the breath through her constricted chest, and exhaled. Then she gathered her strenght and parted with the door, steeling herself for the discussion ahead. [[Continue|MorganaChamberTruth]]

Mordred broke the silence. "So, is it true?" ?they asked - pleaded, voice tinged with desperation. Accolon stood between them, utterly adrift. "What happened?" Neither answered. Morgana approached Mordred slowly, as carefully as she'd have to treat this subject. Morgana was achingly aware that this was not the first time they were finding themselves in this precarious position, placed at odds with each other, forced to contend with a revelation that hung over their heads like an executoner's axe. With the way Mordred fixed her, it was as if the blade had already fallen. She beckoned ?them to take a seat by the cold, unlit hearth, and sat down in the armchair opposite Mordred. Its cushions may as well have been stuffed with rocks. <<if $arthur is false>> Morgana prodded first, poking to see how strong a foundation Lot had laid, and if there was any hope of toppling it. "Do you believe it?" She spoke confidently, betraying nothing of the violent undercurrents raging beneath the surface. "Do you take his word over mine?" There was no hiding Mordred's tumult. "I-I don't know!"?They sounded so conflicted, torn asunder, that Morgana's own frail equanimity faltered. "I just want the truth, mother." There was no walking back on this. Morgana had entertained how she might have handled this conversation - whether initiated by her or not - like one considers plans in case of a seige or disaster. How best to prepare, what words to arm herself with. How she might curb the damage the truth would inflict. Accolon had always told her that these sort of things would be best coming from her rather than anyone else, though when asked to suggest the fitting time at which to make all this known to Mordred he evaded as much as Morgana when pressed to reveal it. ?They're too young, he said, and the truth is unkind. Morgana would only thin her lips and swallow back the bile that'd crawled its way up her mouth. //Unkind// indeed. She herself would rather not think back on the whole affair. She'd done what needed to be done and got along with it. There was no need to spare any thoughts on the details, which she'd shoved into a deep, dark crevice of her mind, and would push back again and again whenever it tried to reach out its slimy tendrils to wrap around her. And she always feared how dangerously easy it would be for Mordred to misconstrue everything: her love, her protection, her attention, and all for what? For one desperate decision Morgana had to resort to. But she did it for the Le Fay - and from the moment her plan came to fruition, that included Mordred. If she were to have her way, that'd be no reason for Mordred to know. It would have accomplished nothing but the misery it achieved now. Yet Mordred demanded an answer, and looked as if ?they may stare, beg or even scream that out of Morgana if ?they needed to. She breathed out, defeated. So the siege had come; it was time to enact her plans of defense. "Before anything else is said, Mordred," she said, emphasizing each and every word, pleading with ?them just as ?they pled with her, "I want you to know that whatever, no matter what, I love you. I've loved you from the very beginning." It was a reminder - an imploration - a much needed reassurance to the both of them. The ice underneath them was cracking, but it had not yet shattered completely; they were still clinging to the cool shards, water cooler yet lapping at their feet. Once she said it all, they'd be plunged into its dark, biting, merciless depths. <<else>> There was no walking back on this. Morgana had entertained how she might have handled this conversation - whether initiated by her or not - like one considers plans in case of a seige or disaster. How best to prepare, what words to arm herself with. How she might curb the damage the truth would inflict. Accolon had always told her that these sort of things would be best coming from her rather than anyone else, though when asked to suggest the fitting time at which to make all this known to Mordred he evaded as much as Morgana when pressed to reveal it. ?They're too young, he said, and the truth is unkind. Morgana would only thin her lips and swallow back the bile that'd crawled its way up her mouth. //Unkind// indeed. She herself would rather not think back on the whole affair. She'd done what needed to be done and got along with it. There was no need to spare any thoughts on the details, which she'd shoved into a deep, dark crevice of her mind, and would push back again and again whenever it tried to reach out its slimy tendrils to wrap around her. And she always feared how dangerously easy it would be for Mordred to misconstrue everything: her love, her protection, her attention, and all for what? For one desperate decision Morgana had to resort to. But she did it for the Le Fay - and from the moment her plan came to fruition, that included Mordred. If she were to have her way, that'd be no reason for Mordred to know. It would have accomplished nothing but the misery it achieved now. Yet Mordred demanded an answer, and looked as if ?they may stare, beg or even scream that out of Morgana if ?they needed to. "Before anything else is said, Mordred," she said, emphasizing each and every word, pleading with Mordred just as ?they pled with her, "I want you to know that whatever, no matter what, I love you. I've loved you from the very beginning." It was a reminder - an imploration - a much needed reassurance to the both of them. The ice underneath them was cracking, but it had not yet shattered completely; they were still clinging to the cool shards, water cooler yet lapping at their feet. Once she said it all, they'd be plunged into its dark, biting, merciless depths. <</if>> Mordred sensed the danger, too. "Mom..." The memories of that night gushed forward. [[Continue|MorganaRemembers]]

Morgana had felt helpless before that night, too - when she was married off to Lot. When Uther informed her of the engagement with a smirk on his face, when Merlin dared parade his cruelty behind indulgent smiles. When they dragged her off Avalon to the Continent, a prisoner marched off to the block. She'd felt an anguish too big to contain wither her skin. It was as if she'd been sentenced to a life in a cell - a fancy little gilded cage. Yet she had to prevail, as her mother did. But Morgana wanted so much more than to survive on the scraps that remained after Uther wrecked her life. Every cruel deed inflicted on her family had dug out a hole in her chest - unfathomable and hungry, always gnawing, always growing, threatening to engulf her and eveyrthing around her. She would know no peace until she got retribution. So she did more than just survive. She bid her time. Then Uther died, and left no heirs. And that, for the first time in so long, gave her a sliver of hope. The door of her cage opened just a little, enough for her to slither through, even if the gild cut into her skin, even if she had to force the door till it caved. Camelot had no blood heir, but it had her. When all Ducal houses were summoned to Camelot to discuss the state of the crown, Morgana knew it could all so easily unravel into chaos. A kingdom tearing itself apart was the perfect moment for her to swoop in and take her rightful place. It was all ripped away from her with the introduction of Arthur. [[Arthur Pendragon, blood heir of Uther|ArthurIntro]]

Stashed away for years to be revealed now, Arthur Pendragon proved his lineage by drawing that damned sword out of the stone. It didn't matter that Uther had adopted her well before the boy was born. All the kingdom cared about what his dragon blood. The door of her cage closed and locked again, yet Morgana didn't give up. She'd trash and kick and fight her way out. The solution fell into her lap when she met Arthur. He had no idea who she was; after the showmanship of pulling the sword, he was hid back beyond the metaphorical curtains while Merlin took to the stage to appease each and ever noble that demanded an explanation. There was no formal introduction made of the King to the Ducal families. When they met by chance on a desolate, dark corridor, both in wretched dispositions, Arthur had no idea who she was. And she never informed him. In that dark corner of the castle, cut away from everyone else, Morgana made a decision. If Camelot wanted a Pendragon heir, then she'd give them one. [[Continue|MorganaDefendsHerself]]

Morgana knew few could understand. Even Junia, who wrapped her arms around her and whispered frantic, soothing words, looked on at her as if beholding a stranger in her place. She out of everyone should have best comprehended what led Morgana to it. And now Mordred regarded her in that same uncertain, terrified way, as if not quite sure what to make of ?their mother anymore. <<if $hair_type == "straight" or $hair_type == "wavy">> "I had to do it, Mordred," she said, pleading her case with conviction, "You don't understand what it was like. You don't know." She ran her fingers through her hair. Her palms itched and she needed to do something with her hands, yet the repetitive motions brought her little comfort now. "I had arrived in Camelot after Uther's death, with all intents to take the throne, because that's the least that brute owed me. But would he? Would he let me have it?" A mirthless laugh clawed its way out. "No. He wouldn't. He had his little Pendragon heir stashed away. Merlin made it very clear to me that day, after the coronation. I had no dragon blood in me; I had no claim to the the throne. No one would listen to me, despite Uther taking me on as his daughter in name, despite that making me the first in line. I stormed out of his tower and stumbled upon Arthur. " <<elseif $hair_type == "curly">> "I had to do it, Mordred," she said, pleading her case with conviction, "You don't understand what it was like. You don't know." She ran her fingers through her hair. Her palms itched and she needed to do something with her hands. Yet the repetitive motions brought her little comfort now, each pull at the ringlets stinging her scalp. "I had arrived in Camelot after Uther's death, with all intents to take the throne, because that's the least that brute owed me. But would he? Would he let me have it?" A mirthless laugh clawed its way out. "No. He wouldn't. He had his little Pendragon heir stashed away. Merlin made it very clear to me that day, after the coronation. I had no dragon blood in me; I had no claim to the the throne. No one would listen to me, despite Uther taking me on as his daughter in name, despite that making me the first in line. I stormed out of his tower and stumbled upon Arthur. " <<else>> "I had to do it, Mordred. You don't understand what it was like. You don't know." She ran her fingers along a braid, scraped her nail against a filigree tube she'd yet to take out. Her palms itched and she needed to do something with her hands, yet the repetitive motions brought her little comfort now. "I had arrived in Camelot after Uther's death, with all intents to take the throne, because that's the least that brute owed me. But would he? Would he let me have it?" A mirthless laugh clawed its way out. "No. He wouldn't. He had his little Pendragon heir stashed away. Merlin made it very clear to me that day, after the coronation. I had no dragon blood in me; I had no claim to the the throne. No one would listen to me, despite Uther taking me on as his daughter in name, despite that making me the first in line. I stormed out of his tower and stumbled upon Arthur. " <</if>> "No," Mordred choked out, realizing where they were heading now. "I met him, and he didn't know who I was, though I did. I'd seen him at the coronation. I'd watched how he walked up to that stage and drew that damned sword from the stone as if it were nothing. I watched a whole stadium go wild over a boy who appeared out of nowhere. So when I met him, I...saw my chance. If the people wanted a Pendragon on the throne, I'd give them one." The more she spoke, the firmer her tone grew. Mordred had to understand. ?They were a squire, training to be a knight: ?they had to know that in a true fight, the rules of a tournament don't apply. One must do anything to persevere, no matter how ugly or bloody or dirty. Mordred concluded the story for her: "So you made me for your revenge." It was all she thought of, when she made the decision that night, standing next to Arthur, swallowed in shadows, hopeless and helpless. But it was such a cruel oversimplification of the world of emotions she'd held for Mordred from the moment ?they were forming in her womb, a severe misunderstanding of what ?they meant to her. "But you are so much more, Mordred," she assured ?them, leaning forward, all but begging ?them to understand. "You are my child. Even then, I knew I'd love you so much." <div class="choice">[["But what if I don't turn out to be what you want me to be?" Mordred asked. They were not quite sure they wished to chase revenge. "Will you still love me then?"|MorganaLove1][$morgana_love to 1, $want_revenge to false]]</div> <div class="choice">[["I know. I want to right the wrongs done to our family," Mordred said. "But if I fail to do so, will you still love me?"|MorganaLove2][$morgana_love to 2, $want_revenge to true]]</div> <div class="choice">[["Do you love me, or do you love only what I can be and do for you and your quest for revenge?" Mordred asked. They didn't even want this stupid revenge.|MorganaLove3][$morgana_love to 3, $want_revenge to false]]</div> <div class="choice">[["Do you love me, or do you love only what I can be and do for you and your quest for revenge?" Mordred asked. They wanted revenge, too. But they wanted to be more than Morgana's means to an end, too.|MorganaLove4][$morgana_love to 4, $want_revenge to true]]</div> <div class="choice">[["I know," Mordred said with feeling, nonetheless reassured by her words. Morgana loved them no matter what. That was all they wanted. And they'd help her revenge, too, just as she intended for them.|MorganaLove5][$morgana_love to 5, $want_revenge to true]]</div> <div class="choice">[["I know," Mordred said with feeling, nonetheless reassured by her words. Morgana loved them no matter what. That was all they wanted. They were not so sure they could be what she wanted them to be though - her means to revenge.|MorganaLove6][$morgana_love to 6, $want_revenge to false]]</div>

"But what if I don't turn out to be what you want me to be?" Mordred asked, continuing to eye her with a look of mistrust that speared Morgana through. "Will you still love me then?" "Of course I will!" There was no shadow of a doubt in Morgana over that. Yet it did not escape her how easily the idea could slither in Mordred's heart, and make a horrible nest for itself there. She drew closer till she almost slipped of her seat, desperate to bridge the chasm beginning to gap, frantic to hold on to Mordred as ?they started to slip through her fingers like sand. She grasped ?their hands and squeezed, yet Mordred made no move to reciprocate, hands slacken in hers. She covered ?their knees with her palms, fingers pressing down with that gentle pressure that let ?them know she'd be there for ?them, to anchor and reassure ?them as she did so many times before. Fingers digging in as she held on to Mordred, who kept on looking at her like //that//. <<if $throne == "no">> Then ?they said: "And if I don't want the throne? If I don't seek to punish those who wronged our family in the way you see fit? Even then?" "Even then," came Morgana's ready reply. "No matter what." She paused, studying ?their expression. Did Mordred truly mean that? After all they'd been through - all their family suffered through - how could ?they not feel that incessant need, that unsatiable thirst, that urge to set things right and deal punishment where it was due. "It's not the first time you've brought up this notion, of you not wanting the throne that //is// rightfully yours. Don't you want more? Don't you want to change perspective? They'll no longer be able to look down upon you if you're high on your throne." Morgana felt it even know, that hollow within her demanding more. She'd filled it with an ever-smouldering, ever-seething, ever-burning fire to fuel her forward, and it warmed the air now with the strenght of its flames. <<elseif $throne == "nono">> Then ?they said: "And if I don't want the throne? If I don't seek to punish those who wronged our family in the way you see fit? Even then?" "Even then," came Morgana's ready reply. "No matter what." She paused, studying ?their expression. Did Mordred truly mean that? After all they'd been through - all their family suffered through - how could ?they not feel that incessant need, that unsatiable thirst, that urge to set things right and deal punishment where it was due. "What is this about you not wanting the throne that //is// rightfully yours? Don't you want more? Don't you want to change perspective? They'll no longer be able to look down upon you if you're high on your throne." Morgana felt it even know, that hollow within her demanding more. She'd filled it with an ever-smouldering, ever-seething, ever-burning fire to fuel her forward, and it warmed the air now with the strenght of its flames. <<else>> "Even if I fail to take the throne? Even if I fail to right the wrongs?" "Even then," came Morgana's ready reply. She promised, "No matter what." "Truly? I do want the throne, as you intend for me; but I don't think I want to pursue revenge. Not the way you wish me to." Did Mordred truly mean that? After all they'd been through - all their family suffered through - how could ?they not feel that incessant need, that unsatiable thirst, that urge to set things right and deal punishment where it was due. "But you do want justice, don't you? We can't let all those people get away!" Morgana felt it even know, that hollow within her demanding more. She'd filled it with an ever-smouldering, ever-seething, ever-burning fire to fuel her forward, and it warmed the air now with the strenght of its flames. "Is it justice or revenge you want?" Morgana laughed, the sound explosive and bitter. "It's one and the same." "Not the way //you// want it." She only asked that every awful deed be payed; and then what did it matter how harsh or not she would be on people who had no such qualms or regards for her and her family? <</if>> Mordred turned to Accolon, who had been standing silent as a statue by the mantlepiece, complexion as bloodless as marble. He watched them with doleful eyes, a quiet, patient witness to the tempest. "Did you know?" Mordred asked. "I did." "Does anyone else know?" Morgana said, "Everyone who knows of your true paternity." She hesitated, then decided it was best to just tell all: "Except for Marcellus and Gaius." Mordred's brow furrowed. "How come?" "I didn't find it necessary to tell them," Morgana shrugged as she glibly replied; it was the same as why she never told Mordred. It filled her with unease and knew deep within that it was better that way. "So you told them what you told me, then." Mordred took in a long, rattling breath and let it out just as slowly and suffering. <div class="choice">[[Mordred felt betrayed, deeply wounded and upset. Despite Morgana's reassurances, they feared her love will vanish the moment they failed her expectations of them.|MorganaBetrayedDoubt][$revelation to "betrayed_doubt_upset"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred felt betrayed, deeply wounded and upset. They believed that she truly does love them no matter what - even if it was in a twisted way, where she hid and distorted the truth to paint the image she wanted them to see.|MorganaBetrayedDoubt][$revelation to "betrayed_upset"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred wanted to understand why she hid it from them - why she lied. Right now, they felt so confused and tired. There was only one thing they were sure of: that she loved them no matter what.|MorganaBetrayedDoubt][$revelation to "ok"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred wanted to understand why she hid it from them - why she lied. Right now, they felt so confused and tired. Despite her reassurances, they feared her love would vanish the moment they failed her expectations of them.|MorganaBetrayedDoubt][$revelation to "ok_doubt"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred felt betrayed, deeply wounded and angry. Despite Morgana's reassurances, they feared her love would vanish the moment they failed her expectations of them.|MorganaBetrayedDoubt][$revelation to "betrayed_doubt_angry"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred felt betrayed, deeply wounded and angry. They believed that she truly did love them no matter what - even if it was in a twisted way, where she hid and distorted the truth to paint the image she wanted them to see.|MorganaBetrayedDoubt][$revelation to "betrayed_angry"]]</div>

"I know. I want to right the wrongs done to our family," Mordred said, but as encouraging as ?their words were, ?their expression was still guarded. ?They eyed Morgana with a look of mistrust that speared her through. "But if I fail to do so, will you still love me?" "Of course I will!" There was no shadow of a doubt in Morgana over that. Yet it did not escape her how easily the idea could slither in Mordred's heart, and make a horrible nest for itself there. She drew closer till she almost slid off her seat, desperate to bridge the chasm beginning to gap, frantic to hold on to Mordred as ?they started to slip through her fingers like sand. <<if $throne == "no">> Then ?they said: "And if I don't want the throne? If I seek justifce for the Le Fay - if I punish those who wronged our family but don't take the throne you so dearly cling to. Even then?" "Even then," came Morgana's ready reply. She promised, "No matter what." She paused, studying ?their expression. Did Mordred truly mean that? After all they'd been through - all their family suffered through - how could ?they not crave the throne, the one thing that could be instrumental in achieving retribution. "It's not the first time you've brought up this notion, of you not wanting the throne that //is// rightfully yours. Don't you want more? Don't you want to change perspective? They'll no longer be able to look down upon you if you're high on your throne." Morgana felt it even know, that hollow within her demanding more. She'd filled it with an ever-smouldering, ever-seething, ever-burning fire to fuel her forward, and it warmed the air now with the strenght of its flames. <<elseif $throne == "nono">> Then ?they said: "And if I don't want the throne? If I seek justifce for the Le Fay - if I punish those who wronged our family but don't take the throne you so dearly cling to. Even then?" "Even then," came Morgana's ready reply. She promised, "No matter what." She paused, studying ?their expression. Did Mordred truly mean that? After all they'd been through - all their family suffered through - how could ?they not crave the throne, the one thing that could be instrumental in achieving retribution. "What is this about you not wanting the throne that //is// rightfully yours? Don't you want more? Don't you want to change perspective? They'll no longer be able to look down upon you if you're high on your throne." Morgana felt it even know, that hollow within her demanding more. She'd filled it with an ever-smouldering, ever-seething, ever-burning fire to fuel her forward, and it warmed the air now with the strenght of its flames. <<else>> "Even if I fail to take the throne?" Mordred asked again, face weary and somber. "Even if I fail to right the wrongs?" "Even then," came Morgana's ready reply. She promised, "No matter what." She took Mordred's hands in her own, and this time ?they didn't pull back. Relief flooded her, almost overwhelming in its intensity. "And you needn't fear failure, darling. I'll be there by your side. Helping you all the way. Together, I know we can do great things." Morgana felt it even know, that hollow within her demanding more. She'd filled it with an ever-smouldering, ever-seething, ever-burning fire to fuel her forward, and it warmed the air now with the strenght of its flames. <</if>> Mordred turned to Accolon, who had been standing silent as a statue by the mantlepiece, complexion as bloodless as marble. He watched them with doleful eyes, a quiet, patient witness to the tempest. "Did you know?" Mordred asked. "I did." "Does anyone else know?" Morgana said, "Everyone who knows of your true paternity." She hesitated, then decided it was best to just tell all: "Except for Marcellus and Gaius." Mordred's brow furrowed. "How come?" "I didn't find it necessary to tell them," Morgana shrugged as she glibly replied; it was the same as why she never told Mordred. It filled her with unease and knew deep within, it was better that way. "So you told them what you told me, then." Mordred took in a long, rattling breath and let it out just as slowly and suffering. <div class="choice">[[Mordred felt betrayed, deeply wounded and upset. Despite Morgana's reassurances, they feared her love would vanish the moment they failed her expectations of them.|MorganaBetrayedDoubt][$revelation to "betrayed_doubt_upset"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred felt betrayed, deeply wounded and upset. They believed that she truly did love them no matter what - even if it was in a twisted way, where she hid and distorted the truth to paint the image she wanted them to see.|MorganaBetrayedDoubt][$revelation to "betrayed_upset"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred wanted to understand why Morgana hid it from them - why she lied. Right now, they felt so confused and tired. There was only one thing they were sure of: that she loved you no matter what.|MorganaBetrayedDoubt][$revelation to "ok"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred wanted to understand why Morgana hid it from them - why she lied. Right now, they felt so confused and tired. Despite her reassurances, they feared her love would vanish the moment they failed her expectations of them.|MorganaBetrayedDoubt][$revelation to "ok_doubt"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred felt betrayed, deeply wounded and angry. Despite Morgana's reassurances, they feared her love would vanish the moment they failed her expectations of them.|MorganaBetrayedDoubt][$revelation to "betrayed_doubt_angry"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred felt betrayed, deeply wounded and angry. They believed that she truly did love them no matter what - even if it was in a twisted way, where she hid and distorted the truth to paint the image she wanted them to see.|MorganaBetrayedDoubt][$revelation to "betrayed_angry"]]</div>

"Do you love me, or do you love only what I can be and do for you and your quest for revenge?" Mordred asked, continuing to eye her with a look of mistrust that speared Morgana through. "Of course I love you!" There was no shadow of a doubt in Morgana over that. Yet it did not escape her how easily the idea could slither in Mordred's heart, and make a horrible nest for itself there. She drew closer till she almost slid off her seat, desperate to bridge the chasm beginning to gap, frantic to hold on to Mordred as ?they started to slip through her fingers like sand. "Don't speak nonsense, Mordred. I love you because you are my child, and I'd love you no matter what." "Truly? Even if the only reason you had me was the claim to the throne?" "Truly," Morgana said. "Gareth I had to get Lot off my back, and I still love him exceedingly so. Despite having the blood of the man who lent his armies to massacre our family." Mordred was too young to fully comprehend such heavy, complicated matters and the feelings attached. Yet despite it all - circumstances and intentions - Morgana loved them both so much it tore her from within to see Mordred pull away now. <<if $throne == "no">> Mordred shook ?their head, as if ?they still could not accept it, as if to clear it of everything ?they had to learn. "And if I don't want the throne? Neither the throne nor chasing your beloved revenge. Will you still love me then?" "Even then," came Morgana's ready reply. She promised, "No matter what." She paused, studying ?their expression. Did Mordred truly mean that? After all they'd been through - all their family suffered through - how could ?they not feel that incessant need, that unsatiable thirst, that urge to set things right and deal punishment where it was due. "It's not the first time you've brought up this notion, of you not wanting the throne that //is// rightfully yours. Don't you want more? Don't you want to change perspective? They'll no longer be able to look down upon you if you're high on your throne." Morgana felt it even know, that hollow within her demanding more. She'd filled it with an ever-smouldering, ever-seething, ever-burning fire to fuel her forward, and it warmed the air now with the strenght of its flames. <<elseif $throne == "nono">> Mordred shook ?their head, as if ?they still could not accept it, as if to clear it of everything ?they had to learn. "And if I don't want the throne? Neither the throne nor chasing your beloved revenge. Will you still love me then?" "Even then," came Morgana's ready reply. She promised, "No matter what." She paused, studying ?their expression. Did Mordred truly mean that? After all they'd been through - all their family suffered through - how could ?they not feel that incessant need, that unsatiable thirst, that urge to set things right and deal punishment where it was due. "It's not the first time you've brought up this notion, of you not wanting the throne that //is// rightfully yours. Don't you want more? Don't you want to change perspective? They'll no longer be able to look down upon you if you're high on your throne." Morgana felt it even know, that hollow within her demanding more. She'd filled it with an ever-smouldering, ever-seething, ever-burning fire to fuel her forward, and it warmed the air now with the strenght of its flames. <<else>> Mordred shook ?their head, as if ?they still could not accept it, as if to clear it of everything ?they had to learn. "Even if I fail to take the throne?" Mordred asked again, face somber. "Even if I don't want to chase your beloved revenge?" "Even then," came Morgana's ready reply. She promised, "No matter what." She took ?their hands into her again and this time they didn't draw away. Did Mordred truly mean that? After all they'd been through - all their family suffered through - how could ?they not feel that incessant need, that unsatiable thirst, that urge to set things right and deal punishment where it was due. "But you do want justice, don't you? We can't let all those people get away!" Morgana felt it even know, that hollow within her demanding more. She'd filled it with an ever-smouldering, ever-seething, ever-burning fire to fuel her forward, and it warmed the air now with the strenght of its flames. "Is it justice or revenge you want?" Morgana laughed, the sound explosive and bitter. "It's one and the same." "Not the way //you// want it." She only asked that every awful deed be payed; and then what did it matter how harsh or not she would be on people who had no such qualms or regards for her and her family? <</if>> Mordred turned to Accolon, who had been standing silent as a statue by the mantlepiece, complexion as bloodless as marble. He watched them with doleful eyes, a quiet, patient witness to the tempest. "Did you know?" Mordred asked. "I did." "Does anyone else know?" Morgana said, "Everyone who knows of your true paternity." She hesitated, then decided it was best to just tell all: "Except for Marcellus and Gaius." Mordred's brow furrowed. "How come?" "I didn't find it necessary to tell them," Morgana shrugged as she glibly replied; it was the same as why she never told Mordred. It filled her with unease and knew deep within it was better that way. "So you told them what you told me, then." Mordred took in a long, rattling breath and let it out just as slowly and suffering. <div class="choice">[[Mordred felt betrayed, deeply wounded and upset. Despite Morgana's reassurances, they feared her love would vanish the moment they failed her expectations of them.|MorganaBetrayedDoubt][$revelation to "betrayed_doubt_upset"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred felt betrayed, deeply wounded and upset. They believed that Morgana truly did love them no matter what - even if it was in a twisted way, where she hid and distorted the truth to paint the image she wanted them to see.|MorganaBetrayedDoubt][$revelation to "betrayed_upset"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred wanted to understand why Morgana hid it from them - why she lied. Right now, they felt so confused and tired. There was only one thing they were sure of: that she loved them no matter what.|MorganaBetrayedDoubt][$revelation to "ok"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred wanted to understand why Morgana hid it from them - why she lied. Right now, they felt so confused and tired. Despite Morgana's reassurances, they feared her love would vanish the moment they failed her expectations of them.|MorganaBetrayedDoubt][$revelation to "ok_doubt"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred felt betrayed, deeply wounded and angry. Despite Morgana's reassurances, they feared her love would vanish the moment they failed her expectations of them.|MorganaBetrayedDoubt][$revelation to "betrayed_doubt_angry"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred felt betrayed, deeply wounded and angry. They believed that she truly did love them no matter what - even if it was in a twisted way, where she hid and distorted the truth to paint the image she wanted them to see.|MorganaBetrayedDoubt][$revelation to "betrayed_angry"]]</div>

"Do you love me, or do you love only what I can be and do for you and your quest for revenge?" Mordred asked, continuing to eye her with a look of mistrust that speared Morgana through. "Of course I love you!" There was no shadow of a doubt in Morgana over that. Yet it did not escape her how easily the idea could slither in Mordred's heart, and make a horrible nest for itself there. She drew closer till she almost slid off her seat, desperate to bridge the chasm beginning to gap, frantic to hold on to Mordred as ?they started to slip through her fingers like sand. "Don't speak nonsense, Mordred. I love you because you are my child, and I'd love you no matter what." "Truly? Even if the only reason you had me was the claim to the throne?" "Truly," Morgana said. "Gareth I had to get Lot off my back, and I still love him exceedingly so. Despite having the blood of the man who lent his armies to massacre our family." Mordred was too young to fully comprehend such heavy, complicated matters and the feelings attached. Yet despite it all - circumstances and intentions - Morgana loved them both so much it tore her from within to see Mordred pull away now. <<if $throne == "no">> Mordred shook ?their head, as if ?they still could not accept it, as if to clear it of everything ?they had to learn. "And if I don't want the throne? If I seek justifce for the Le Fay - if I punish those who wronged our family but don't take the throne you so dearly cling to. Even then?" "Even then," came Morgana's ready reply. She promised, "No matter what." She paused, studying ?their expression. Did Mordred truly mean that? After all they'd been through - all their family suffered through - how could ?they not crave the throne, the one thing that could be instrumental in achieving retribution. "It's not the first time you've brought up this notion, of you not wanting the throne that //is// rightfully yours. Don't you want more? Don't you want to change perspective? They'll no longer be able to look down upon you if you're high on your throne." Morgana felt it even know, that hollow within her demanding more. She'd filled it with an ever-smouldering, ever-seething, ever-burning fire to fuel her forward, and it warmed the air now with the strenght of its flames. <<elseif $throne == "nono">> Mordred shook ?their head, as if ?they still could not accept it, as if to clear it of everything ?they had to learn. "And if I don't want the throne? If I seek justifce for the Le Fay - if I punish those who wronged our family but don't take the throne you so dearly cling to. Even then?" "Even then," came Morgana's ready reply. She promised, "No matter what." She paused, studying ?their expression. Did Mordred truly mean that? After all they'd been through - all their family suffered through - how could ?they not crave the throne, the one thing that could be instrumental in achieving retribution. "What is this about you not wanting the throne that //is// rightfully yours? Don't you want more? Don't you want to change perspective? They'll no longer be able to look down upon you if you're high on your throne." Morgana felt it even know, that hollow within her demanding more. She'd filled it with an ever-smouldering, ever-seething, ever-burning fire to fuel her forward, and it warmed the air now with the strenght of its flames. <<else>> Mordred shook ?their head, as if ?they still could not accept it, as if to clear it of everything ?they had to learn. "Even if I fail to take the throne?" ?they asked again. "Even if I fail to right the wrongs?" "Even then," came Morgana's ready reply. She promised, "No matter what." She took ?their hands in hers again and this time they didn't draw away. "And you neend't fear failure, darling. I'll be there by your side. Helping you all the way. Together, I know we can do great things." Morgana felt it even know, that hollow within her demanding more. She'd filled it with an ever-smouldering, ever-seething, ever-burning fire to fuel her forward, and it warmed the air now with the strenght of its flames. <</if>> Mordred turned to Accolon, who had been standing silent as a statue by the mantlepiece, complexion as bloodless as marble. He watched them with doleful eyes, a quiet, patient witness to the tempest. "Did you know?" Mordred asked. "I did." "Does anyone else know?" Morgana said, "Everyone who knows of your true paternity." She hesitated, then decided it was best to just tell all: "Except for Marcellus and Gaius." Mordred's brow furrowed. "How come?" "I didn't find it necessary to tell them," Morgana shrugged as she glibly replied; it was the same as why she never told Mordred. It filled her with unease and knew deep within it was better that way. "So you told them what you told me, then." Mordred took in a long, rattling breath and let it out just as slowly. <div class="choice">[[Mordred felt betrayed, deeply wounded and upset. Despite Morgana's reassurances, they feared her love would vanish the moment they failed her expectations of them.|MorganaBetrayedDoubt][$revelation to "betrayed_doubt_upset"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred felt betrayed, deeply wounded and upset. They believed that she truly did love them no matter what - even if it was in a twisted way, where she hid and distorted the truth to paint the image she wanted them to see.|MorganaBetrayedDoubt][$revelation to "betrayed_upset"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred wanted to understand why she hid it from them - why she lied. Right now, they felt so confused and tired. There was only one thing they were sure of: that she loved them no matter what.|MorganaBetrayedDoubt][$revelation to "ok"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred wanted to understand why she hid it from them - why she lied. Right now, they felt so confused and tired. Despite her reassurances, they feared her love would vanish the moment they failed her expectations of them.|MorganaBetrayedDoubt][$revelation to "ok_doubt"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred felt betrayed, deeply wounded and angry. Despite her reassurances, they feared her love would vanish the moment they failed her expectations of them.|MorganaBetrayedDoubt][$chapt4_revelation to "betrayed_doubt_angry"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred felt betrayed, deeply wounded and angry. They believed that she truly did love them no matter what - even if it was in a twisted way, where she hid and distorted the truth to paint the image she wanted them to see.|MorganaBetrayedDoubt][$revelation to "betrayed_angry"]]</div>

"I know you love me," Mordred said, voice thick with emotion. The few, simple words flooded Morgana with relief, so overwhelming it was dizzying. "And I'll help us right the wrongs that have been done, too." She drew closer till she almost slipped off her seat, desperate to bridge the distance, frantic to hold on to Mordred. She grasped ?their hands and squeezed; ?they squeezed back, smiling wanly. <<if $throne == "no">> "I want that," Mordred went on, "I truly do. But I don't think I want the throne. There must be other ways to get revenge." Did Mordred truly mean that? After all they'd been through - all their family suffered through - how could ?they not crave the throne, the one thing that could be instrumental in achieving retribution. "It's not the first time you've brought up this notion," Morgana said, "of you not wanting the throne that //is// rightfully yours. Don't you want more? Don't you want to change perspective? They'll no longer be able to look down upon you if you're high on your throne." Morgana felt it even know, that hollow within her demanding more. She'd filled it with an ever-smouldering, ever-seething, ever-burning fire to fuel her forward, and it warmed the air now with the strenght of its flames. <<elseif $throne == "nono">> "I want that," Mordred went on, "I truly do. But I don't think I want the throne. There must be other ways to get revenge." Did Mordred truly mean that? After all they'd been through - all their family suffered through - how could ?they not crave the throne, the one thing that could be instrumental in achieving retribution. "What is this about you not wanting the throne that //is// rightfully yours? Don't you want more? Don't you want to change perspective? They'll no longer be able to look down upon you if you're high on your throne." Morgana felt it even know, that hollow within her demanding more. She'd filled it with an ever-smouldering, ever-seething, ever-burning fire to fuel her forward, and it warmed the air now with the strenght of its flames. <<else>> "But what if I fail?" Mordred asked. "You needn't fear failure, darling," she reassured ?them, "I'll be there by your side. Helping you all the way. Together, I know we can do great things." Morgana felt it even know, that hollow within her demanding more. She'd filled it with an ever-smouldering, ever-seething, ever-burning fire to fuel her forward, and it warmed the air now with the strenght of its flames. They both carried that fire - and together, they'd set the kindgom and all who wronged them ablaze. <</if>> Mordred turned to Accolon, who had been standing silent as a statue by the mantlepiece, complexion as bloodless as marble. He watched them with doleful eyes, a quiet, patient witness to the tempest. "Did you know?" Mordred asked. "I did." "Does anyone else know?" Morgana said, "Everyone who knows of your true paternity." She hesitated, then decided it was best to just tell all: "Except for Marcellus and Gaius." Mordred's brow furrowed. "How come?" "I didn't find it necessary to tell them," Morgana shrugged as she glibly replied; it was the same as why she never told Mordred. It filled her with unease and knew deep within it was better that way. "So you told them what you told me, then." Mordred took in a long, rattling breath and let it out just as slowly. <div class="choice">[[Mordred felt betrayed, deeply wounded and upset. They believed that she truly did love them no matter what - even if it was in a twisted way, where she hid and distorted the truth to paint the image she wanted them to see.|MorganaBetrayedDoubt][$revelation to "betrayed_upset"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred felt betrayed, deeply wounded and angry. They believed that she truly did love them no matter what - even if it was in a twisted way, where she hid and distorted the truth to paint the image she wanted them to see.|MorganaBetrayedDoubt][$revelation to "betrayed_angry"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred wanted to understand why she hid it from them - why she lied. Right now, they felt so confused and tired. There was only one thing they were sure of: that she loved them no matter what.|MorganaBetrayedDoubt][$revelation to "ok"]]</div>

"I know you love me," Mordred said, voice thick with emotion. The few, simple words flooded Morgana with relief, so overwhelming it was dizzying. She drew closer till she almost slipped of her seat, desperate to bridge the distance, frantic to hold on to Mordred. She grasped ?their hands and squeezed; ?they squeezed back, smiling wanly. <<if $throne == "no">> "But I don't think I want to chase the revenge you want me to," ?they continued. "And I don't think I want the throne, either." Did Mordred truly mean that? After all they'd been through - all their family suffered through - how could ?they not feel that incessant need, that unsatiable thirst, that urge to set things right and deal punishment where its due. "It's not the first time you've brought up this notion, of you not wanting the throne that //is// rightfully yours. Don't you want more? Don't you want to change perspective? They'll no longer be able to look down upon you if you're high on your throne." Morgana felt it even know, that hollow within her demanding more. She'd filled it with an ever-smouldering, ever-seething, ever-burning fire to fuel her forward, and it warmed the air now with the strenght of its flames. <<elseif $throne == "nono">> "But I don't think I want to chase the revenge you want me to," ?they continued. "And I don't think I want the throne, either." Did Mordred truly mean that? After all they'd been through - all their family suffered through - how could ?they not feel that incessant need, that unsatiable thirst, that urge to set things right and deal punishment where its due. "What is this about you not wanting the throne that //is// rightfully yours? Don't you want more? Don't you want to change perspective? They'll no longer be able to look down upon you if you're high on your throne." Morgana felt it even know, that hollow within her demanding more. She'd filled it with an ever-smouldering, ever-seething, ever-burning fire to fuel her forward, and it warmed the air now with the strenght of its flames. <<else>> "But I don't think I want to chase the revenge you want me to," ?they continued. "But I do intend to get the throne as you wish for me." Did Mordred truly mean that? After all they'd been through - all their family suffered through - how could ?they not feel that incessant need, that unsatiable thirst, that urge to set things right and deal punishment where its due. "But don't you want justice? We can't let all those people get away!" Morgana felt it even know, that hollow within her demanding more. She'd filled it with an ever-smouldering, ever-seething, ever-burning fire to fuel her forward, and it warmed the air now with the strenght of its flames. "Is it justice or revenge you want?" Morgana laughed, the sound explosive and bitter. "It's one and the same." "Not the way //you// want it." She only asked that every awful deed be payed; and then what did it matter how harsh or not she would be on people who had no such qualms or regards for her and her family? <</if>> Mordred turned to Accolon, who had been standing silent as a statue by the mantlepiece, complexion as bloodless as marble. He watched them with doleful eyes, a quiet, patient witness to the tempest. "Did you know?" Mordred asked. "I did." "Does anyone else know?" Morgana said, "Everyone who knows of your true paternity." She hesitated, then decided it was best to just tell all: "Except for Marcellus and Gaius." Mordred's brow furrowed. "How come?" "I didn't find it necessary to tell them," Morgana shrugged as she glibly replied; it was the same as why she never told Mordred. It filled her with unease and knew deep within it was better that way. "So you told them what you told me, then." Mordred took in a long, rattling breath and let it out just as slowly. <div class="choice">[[Mordred felt betrayed, deeply wounded and upset. They believed that she truly did love them no matter what - even if it was in a twisted way, where she hid and distorted the truth to paint the image she wanted them to see.|MorganaBetrayedDoubt][$revelation to "betrayed_upset"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred felt betrayed, deeply wounded and angry. They believed that she truly did love them no matter what - even if it was in a twisted way, where she hid and distorted the truth to paint the image she wanted them to see.|MorganaBetrayedDoubt][$revelation to "betrayed_angry"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred wanted to understand why she hid it from them - why she lied. Right now, they felt so confused and tired. There was only one thing they were sure of: that she loved them no matter what.|MorganaBetrayedDoubt][$revelation to "ok"]]</div>

<<if $morgana_love == 5 or $morgana_love == 6>> The longer silence crawled on, the more unbearable it grew. Mordred's words had eased some of her mounting dread, but the quiet was eroding at Morgana, steadily chipping away at the relief she'd found. Limned by the golden light of the candles, the troubled furrows of ?their face were thrown into painful, vulnerable relief. The revelations of tonight were raw, open, bleeding wounds; strikes that cut all the way to the bone. Mordred would need time to heal, and all Morgana could hope for was that ?they'd allow her to be there throughout it. <<else>> Silence crawled on, more unbearable the longer it grew. Wretched thoughts and feelings festered in it, smothered the air. Limned by the golden light of the candles, the troubled furrows of ?their face were thrown into painful, vulnerable relief. The revelations of tonight were raw, open, bleeding wounds; strikes that cut all the way to the bone. Mordred would need time to heal, and all Morgana could hope for was that ?they'd allow her to be there throughout it. With the way ?they pulled away from her, it was but a feeble hope, steadily chipped at the longer ?they stood quiet. <</if>> Then Mordred shattered the silence, voice quivering ever so slightly: "Arthur...you...you deceived him..." The words came haltingly, ripped reluctantly from ?their tongue. <div class="choice">[[No. It was horrible. They didn't want to say it. They needed more time to process everything. They were leaving.|BackToChamber][$arthur_stance to 1, $arthur_betrayal_stance to "horrible"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[No. What was done was done and their mother did what she could in a desperate situation. Even if it hurt others. There was no need to dwell on it.|BackToChamber][$arthur_stance to 2, $arthur_betrayal_stance to "desperate"]]</div> <div class="choice">[["That's not right," Mordred said, voice thick. "It simply isn't."|BackToChamber][$arthur_stance to 3, $arthur_betrayal_stance to "horrible"]]</div> <div class="choice">[["That's not right," Mordred shouted. "It simply isn't."|BackToChamber][$arthur_stance to 4, $arthur_betrayal_stance to "horrible"]]</div> <<if $chapt4_arthur_invited is false>><div class="choice">[[No. Their mother did what was necessary. It may not have been nice; it may not have been kind, but she did what was needed for her to secure a chance at retribution for their family.|BackToChamber][$arthur_stance to 5, $arthur_betrayal_stance to "hadto"]]</div><</if>>

<<if $arthur_stance == 1>> Mordred broke off, pressing ?their lips tightly together. Something in Morgana - hard and firm and unyieldy - solidified, even through the bits and shards of her that came undone. Yes, one could say she deceived Arthur; she omitted the truth he could not guess at, despite ?them sharing the same eyes, despite the features one could trace as similar between ?them. Perhaps the lights were too dim in that hall, perhaps the differences overshadowed the similarities enough, perhaps the possibility had never entered his mind, as he himself had confessed that while he had been vaguely aware of Morgana's existence at some point as Igraine's daughter, the knowledge of having a sister never resurfaced until Merlin introduced the two. His shield was lowered, and Morgana merely took advantage. The war that was over for the Continent long ago was not so for her. If Camelot could employ deceit and dirty tricks in its conquests, so could she. Mordred did not say anything more on the subject. ?They abruptly excused ?themself and lurched up to stumbling feet. Morgana reached out, ready to jump out of her seat herself. "Mordred-" A hand rested gently on her shoulder, halting her. "Some rest is exactly what you need right now," Accolon said. "You two should talk again in the morning." Morgana didn't like it, but she too recognized that restless, distressed look in Mordred's eyes, the tautness in ?their shoulders betraying the urge to run away. "I could make you some soothing sleeping tea," she offered. "There's no need," Mordred said stifly. I'll be fine." And with that, ?they left. <<elseif $arthur_stance == 2>> Mordred broke off, pressing ?their lips tightly together. Something in Morgana - hard and firm and unyieldy - solidified, even through the bits and shards of her that came undone. Yes, one could say she deceived Arthur; she omitted the truth he could not guess at, despite ?them sharing the same eyes, despite the features one could trace as similar between ?them. Perhaps the lights were too dim in that hall, perhaps the differences overshadowed the similarities enough, perhaps the possibility had never entered his mind, as he himself had confessed that while he had been vaguely aware of Morgana's existence at some point as Igraine's daughter, the knowledge of having a sister never resurfaced until Merlin introduced the two. His shield was lowered, and Morgana merely took advantage. The war that was over for the Continent long ago was not so for her. If Camelot could employ deceit and dirty tricks in its conquests, so could she. Mordred did not say anything more on the subject. ?They abruptly excused ?themself and lurched up to stumbling feet. Morgana reached out, ready to jump out of her seat herself. "Mordred-" A hand rested gently on her shoulder, halting her. "Some rest is exactly what you need right now," Accolon said. "You two should talk again in the morning." Morgana didn't like it, but she too recognized that restless, distressed look in Mordred's eyes, the tautness in ?their shoulders betraying the urge to run away. "I could make you some soothing sleeping tea," she offered. "There's no need," Mordred said stifly. I'll be fine." And with that, ?they left. <<elseif $arthur_stance == 3>> "That's not right," Mordred choked out. "It simply isn't." Something in Morgana - hard and firm and unyieldy - solidified, even through the bits and shards of her that came undone. Yes, one could say she deceived Arthur; she omitted the truth he could not guess at, despite ?them sharing the same eyes, despite the features one could trace as similar between ?them. Perhaps the lights were too dim in that hall, perhaps the differences overshadowed the similarities enough, perhaps the possibility had never entered his mind, as he himself had confessed that while he had been vaguely aware of Morgana's existence at some point as Igraine's daughter, the knowledge of having a sister never resurfaced until Merlin introduced the two. His shield was lowered, and Morgana merely took advantage. The war that was over for the Continent long ago was not so for her. If Camelot could employ deceit and dirty tricks in its conquests, so could she. "It was necessary, Mordred," Morgana roundly said. Accolon stepped in: "Your mother was not in the best state of mind when all that transpired." Mordred did not back down. "That doesn't make it right." "No," Accolon agreed and Morgana frowned. "It doesn't." Yet he understood why she did. Mordred did not say anything more on the subject. ?They abruptly excused ?themself and lurched up to stumbling feet. Morgana reached out, ready to jump out of her seat herself. "Mordred-" A hand rested gently on her shoulder, halting her. "Some rest is exactly what you need right now," Accolon said. "You two should talk again in the morning." Morgana didn't like it, but she too recognized that restless, distressed look in Mordred's eyes, the tautness in ?their shoulders betraying the urge to run away. "I could make you some soothing sleeping tea," she offered. "There's no need," Mordred said stifly. I'll be fine." And with that, ?they left. <<elseif $arthur_stance == 4>> "That's not right," Mordred shouted. "It simply isn't!" Something in Morgana - hard and firm and unyieldy - solidified, even through the bits and shards of her that came undone. Yes, one could say she deceived Arthur; she omitted the truth he could not guess at, despite ?them sharing the same eyes, despite the features one could trace as similar between ?them. Perhaps the lights were too dim in that hall, perhaps the differences overshadowed the similarities enough, perhaps the possibility had never entered his mind, as he himself had confessed that while he had been vaguely aware of Morgana's existence at some point as Igraine's daughter, the knowledge of having a sister never resurfaced until Merlin introduced the two. His shield was lowered, and Morgana merely took advantage. The war that was over for the Continent long ago was not so for her. If Camelot could employ deceit and dirty tricks in its conquests, so could she. "It was necessary, Mordred," Morgana roundly said. Accolon stepped in: "Your mother was not in the best state of mind when all that transpired." Mordred did not back down. "That doesn't make it right." "No," Accolon agreed and Morgana frowned. "It doesn't." Yet he understood why she did. Mordred did not say anything more on the subject. ?They abruptly excused ?themself and lurched up to stumbling feet. Morgana reached out, ready to jump out of her seat herself. "Mordred-" A hand rested gently on her shoulder, halting her. "Some rest is exactly what you need right now," Accolon said. "You two should talk again in the morning." Morgana didn't like it, but she too recognized that restless, distressed look in Mordred's eyes, the tautness in ?their shoulders betraying the urge to run away. "I could make you some soothing sleeping tea," she offered. "There's no need," Mordred said stifly. I'll be fine." And with that, ?they left. <<elseif $arthur_stance == 5>> Mordred broke off, pressing ?their lips tightly together. Something in Morgana - hard and firm and unyieldy - solidified, even through the bits and shards of her that came undone. Yes, one could say she deceived Arthur; she omitted the truth he could not guess at, despite ?them sharing the same eyes, despite the features one could trace as similar between ?them. Perhaps the lights were too dim in that hall, perhaps the differences overshadowed the similarities enough, perhaps the possibility had never entered his mind, as he himself had confessed that while he had been vaguely aware of Morgana's existence at some point as Igraine's daughter, the knowledge of having a sister never resurfaced until Merlin introduced the two. His shield was lowered, and Morgana merely took advantage. The war that was over for the Continent long ago was not so for her. If Camelot could employ deceit and dirty tricks in its conquests, so could she. Mordred did not say anything more on the subject. ?They abruptly excused ?themself and lurched up to stumbling feet. Morgana reached out, ready to jump out of her seat herself. "Mordred-" A hand rested gently on her shoulder, halting her. "Some rest is exactly what you need right now," Accolon said. "You two should talk again in the morning." Morgana didn't like it, but she too recognized that restless, distressed look in Mordred's eyes, the tautness in ?their shoulders betraying the urge to run away. "I could make you some soothing sleeping tea," she offered. "There's no need," Mordred said stifly. I'll be fine." And with that, ?they left. <</if>> Watching Mordred go out the door felt like a part of her getting brutally ripped away, ties severed by the loud click of the door. The sound reverberated in her skull, battered against her brain. Morgana dug her nails into the chair's armrests, struggling against everything in her not to dash out the door after Mordred. She made to get up, but Accolon stopped her yet again, speaking as softly as he spoke to Mordred before. "I know it's difficult," he says, "but you must allow Mordred ?their space until tomorrow." Morgana sighed and crumbled. [[Continue|Chamber]]

"What else was I to do?" Morgana demanded out of the silence of the room, out of the doubt rising from dark corners of her mind, out of the tension that still pervaded and poisoned the air, out of the image of Mordred's pained face, out of the cosmos itself. None could give her an answer. Accolon was no help either. "?They would have found out, eventually," he said tentatively. "There are...enough people that could have told ?them." Morgana sneered. "And out of all, to hear it from Lot? Lot, who only did it to hurt ?them and spite me." Her nails sunk deeper into the cushion. "Oh, when I get my hands on him-" Accolon squeezed her shoulder lightly, to anchor her, just as the cool night air started to simmer. "Be careful," he said, worry tinging his voice. Not for the Duke, no, but for herself. Morgana exhaled again, one long, harrowed breath. "What do I do?" <<if $forgive == "understand">> It was clear Mordred did not want her presence, let alone comfort now, but she couldn't bear to be turned away. Room to think and rest she could allow ?them, as she had before. It wasn't the first time they'd fought, though it was the worst it'd ever been. What good did //this// accomplish, aside bringing undue turmoil? It drove ?them away from her and sowed discord, as Lot most likely wanted. The monster must have been away in his chamber, basking in his wretched satisfaction. <<else>> It was clear Mordred did not want her presence, let alone comfort now, but she couldn't bear to be turned away. Room to think and rest she could allow ?them, as she had before. It wasn't the first time they'd fought, though it was the worst it'd ever been. The only argument of the same gravity they'd had was over the prophecy and the secrecy Morgana shrouded it in - for ?their own sake. What good did knowing Merlin's treachorous words do ?them? What good did //this// accomplish? It drove ?them away from her and sowed discord, as Lot most likely wanted. The monster must have been away in his chamber, basking in his wretched satisfaction. <</if>> One insidious, writhing, fretful thought had wrapped around her and would not let go: what if Mordred continued to push her away? She'd talk to ?them the next day, once tempers simmered down a bit and minds were clearer. Mordred needed to understand. Morgana slipped her fingers over Accolon's hand and leant towards him. He reacted immediately, sitting down to circle his arms around her like catching her before a fall. <<if $hair_type == "straight" or $hair_type == "wavy">> She wasn't sure how long they stayed like that; time seemed to both crawl on painfully slow and spiral out of control. After a while, he gently urged her to get some sleep and offered to brush her hair for her, but she just shook her head. So he carried her to the bed and snuffed out the lights before slipping in next to her. <<elseif $hair_type == "curly">> She wasn't sure how long they stayed like that; time seemed to both crawl on painfully slow and spiral out of control. After a while, he gently urged her to get some sleep and offered to gather up her hair for her, but she just shook her head. So he carried her to the bed and snuffed out the lights before slipping in next to her. <<else>> She wasn't sure how long they stayed like that; time seemed to both crawl on painfully slow and spiral out of control. After a while, he gently urged her to get some sleep and offered to gather up her hair and put on the silk scarf for her. Then he carried her to the bed and snuffed out the lights before slipping in next to her. <</if>> Morgana lay in the darkness, doozing off fitfully, fretting on the bedsheets, caught in a series of lurid nightmares and weary moments of wakeness. [[The end|End]]

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