Morgause in "Sins of the Father"

A young woman with long blonde hair curling past her shoulders stood inside a dark castle. She wore a fancy red dress, the sequined sleeves for her arms, see-through. Black clouds hovered over the tall castle towers like a dark shadowy blanket. She stood in a small narrow courtyard with white candles huddled on the table in front of her. Small fires were lit in round torch holders in a row throughout the yard. Vines with leaves stretched around the pillars that used to hold up a now non-existent roof. It was true that the castle was very old, but it was a good place for a sorceress to hide.

The High Priestess spoke an incantation, allowing her to see current events in the face of a group of quartz crystals on a table.

“Hider eft funda on thysne middangeard…” (Again, set out from here, not in this world).

She smiled as she saw Arthur in the crystal. “Arthur Pendragon, a great destiny awaits you. The battle for your soul is about to begin.”

Morgause waved her hand across her chest and a chain link shirt and armor replaced the dress she had worn before. She may have been an expert in magic, but she was also very proficient in sword fighting. She grabbed a nearby sword and sheathed it safely at her side. She called her white horse to her and the animal trotted over the green grass. She lifted herself onto the horse and rode off across the land. On the back of the horse was a bag with extra supplies secured in place, including food, flasks of water and extra weapons. Soon, the ruined castle on the Isle of the Blessed faded into the distance. A faint breeze blew her blonde hair from side to side. She sniffed the air and could smell the earthy scent that signaled oncoming rain.

Based on the distance, she would have to travel, it would take several days on foot. Fortunately, she had a horse, plus magic at her disposal. Morgause would reach Camelot by nightfall. Eventually she reached the border of Camelot, slowing down her horse and then getting off. She tied it with the other horses nearby to blend in. Checking to make sure she had her sword with her, she slipped on a knight’s helmet that she had brought with her, effectively obscuring her face and hair. She marched down the cobblestone path, encountering two Camelot guards wearing red robes and armor.

The two men got out their swords, but Morgause was too quick. With several strikes, she knocked them dead to the ground, clearing her path. Another guard stood at an archway, briefly blocking her attacks. But soon, she had taken care of him as well. He lay still on the ground as she continued on her way.

Now she was inside the castle courtyard, encountering two more guards whom she easily defeated. Another guard stood at a smaller archway, moving fast at an even pace to hers with his word. Metal clanged against metal before she pushed him hard to the side and stabbed him in the gut. The guard fell dead and Morgause continued up the steps.

Morgause walked down the dark hallway, this time fighting two guards with long spears. Torches lined the side of the hallway. They, too, were quickly defeated, allowing Morgause to push open the wooden double doors. Sure enough, like the crystal showed, Arthur was there along with his father, king Uther, and a group of men who had just been knighted. All the knights unsheathed their swords, but Morgause, unfazed, walked forward until standing face to face with the prince. Like the other knights, Arthur wore a red robe and chain-link shirt and pants.

Morgause took off one of her gauntlets and threw it at Arthur’s feet. To the side, Merlin, Gwen, and Gaius looked on in concern.

Arthur picked up the gauntlet and faced the newcomer. “I accept your challenge. If I’m to face you in combat, do me the courtesy of revealing your identity.”

‘Very well.’

She unlatched her helmet from behind and shook her hair free.

“My name is Morgause.”

Morgause soon found herself a spare guest room she could use for the time being. If Arthur hadn’t accepted her challenge, she may have gone to prison. Of course, that was no problem that magic couldn’t fix. Being the honorable man he was, she knew that Arthur would not back down from a challenge. To do so would dishonor the knight’s code and be seen as cowardly.

Her main target at the moment was Uther, of course. Ever since he initiated the Great Purge that wiped away hundreds of her people, she had desired revenge. She figured that Arthur would be a better ruler than Uther (Though far from perfect.)

Morgause was surprised when a random servant came into her room. He had short black hair and wore a brown jacket and a blue shirt. She stepped to the side and pointed her sword at him and stood in front. “What do you want?”

“I have a message from Prince Arthur,” said Merlin, his back pressed against the door, his eyes filled with fear, holding up his hand. “He wants you to withdraw your challenge.”

‘Well, that is unexpected. He seemed like a brave, honorable man, and now he wants to back out? I came here all this way for my plan. Withdrawal is out of the question.’

Merlin continued, “Arthur has no desire to fight you. If you withdraw, he will grant you safe passage from the kingdom.”

‘How do I know that king Uther’s son can be trusted?’ she thought to herself.

“Leave now, while you still can,” said Merlin.

“If Arthur has no desire to fight me, perhaps he should withdraw,” she replied. ‘I am not one to back down from a fight. I’d make more sense for Arthur to do so if he’s that much of a coward. Then again, he’s dealing with me, so that might be a smart move…’

Merlin chuckled nervously. “No, he’ll never do that. It’s not in him to withdraw.”

Morgause lowered her sword. “Then we have that in common.”

Merlin continued, “If you fight him, he will have to treat you as he does any other opponent.”

‘I’d expect nothing less from him.’

“It won’t matter that you’re a woman.”

Morgause seethed in disgust. “I do not ask for special treatment.” She threw her sword on the bed.

“Arthur has no quarrel with you,” said Merlin. “Why would you challenge him?”

“My reasons are not your concern,” she replied.

“Don’t put Arthur in a position where he’s forced to kill you.”

‘I’d like to see him try.’

Morgause stepped closer to Merlin. “Who’s to say Arthur’s life won’t rest in my hands?” she asked mysteriously.

Merlin left and Morgause practiced her moves quietly in her chamber. After she felt confident enough, she crawled into bed and slept once it got dark.

The challenge duel began the next day. Uther sat in his usual spot at the front of the stadium, in a high wooden chair, with Lady Morgana by his side. Merlin was busy straightening and putting Arthur’s armor into place on his arms, chest, and legs. Red and yellow banners hung from the stadium edges. Crowds of people were packed into three separate wooden bleachers. Guards stood at attention beside the outer rim of the dirt space.

Morgause walked forward, putting her helmet on her head and over her face. She stood, waiting until the crowd cheered for Arthur’s arrival.

Uther stood up. “The fight is by the knights’ rules and to the death.” Morgause stared at Arthur’s dirty short blonde hair. She wondered why he didn’t have his helmet on already.

Arthur walked up to her and spoke in a lowered voice, “I’m offering you a final chance to withdraw. I suggest you take it.”

‘Not a chance.’ Morgause stood silent and deviant, glancing at Arthur.

“Then you leave me no choice,” said Arthur as he walked further away, preparing himself.

He put on his helmet and got his sword ready. He spun the blade in the air and both individuals got into attack positions.

Morgause made the first move and swung her sword expertly at Arthur. Arthur blocked her attacks with his sword and stepped backwards as she advanced. Arthur caught her sword blade on his and slowly stepped forward. They encircled, figuring out each other’s moves. Morgause then attacked again, and their swords clashed at similar speeds. Arthur swung his sword down, but Morgause jumped backwards out of the way. Arthur advanced forward and knocked her sword out of her hands.

She grimaced at a cut on her arm. Arthur waited and stepped back while she picked up her sword.

Soon they were back at fighting once more. Channeling her anger at getting cut, Morgause advanced forward, swinging her sword in measured slices. Morgause was pushed against the wooden barrier and dodged Arthur’s next attack, which cut off the top part of the wood.

Arthur was momentarily distracted by the dust that came off of the wooden barrier, so she kicked him hard in the legs, causing him to fall to the ground, helmet coming off. She held her sword at his chest and removed her helmet.

“Make me a promise and I will spare your life.”

“What is it you ask?”

“Come to me three days hence and accept the challenge I set to you.”

“And the nature of this challenge?” asked Arthur.

“That is for me to decide,” she answered. “Do I have your word that you will accept, no matter what?”

“You have my word,” Arthur promised.

Morgause held out her hand and Arthur took it, helping him up.

Morgause gave the king a nod and walked off, leaving a humiliated Arthur behind. She walked into another chamber where the physician, Gaius, was waiting for her. Gaius pulled up her sleeve, revealing the wound on her arm. He gently cleaned it and wrapped it tightly with a white cloth.

“You’re fortunate the wound isn’t too deep,” mentioned Gaius. “You seem familiar.”

Morgause pulled her sleeve back over her arm.

Gaius asked, “Have you visited Camelot in the past?”

“I was here many years ago,” she said. “I was just a baby at the time. I doubt you’d remember me.”

Gaius took notice of an intricate silver bracelet around her wrist.

Morgause stood up, hoping to not arouse suspicion. “I’m grateful for your help.” Gaius nodded and went back to his work.

Earlier, Morgause could sense a faint magical energy coming from the Lady Morgana. It felt like she had seen her before, or at least felt a familiar presence.

Speaking of morgana, the woman in question walked into the room, wearing a beautiful white gown. The fabric allowed her arms to be shown through.

Morgause had changed out of her chain-link shirt and was now wearing a comfortable white cotton shirt.  She also wore dainty necklaces and chain earrings. Morgause walked out from behind the curtains and looked at her.

“I didn’t mean to intrude,” said Morgana quickly. “I wanted to introduce myself. I’m the Lady Morgana.”

“I know who you are,” Morgause responded.

Morgause could see in her eyes that Morgana, too, felt a similar strange connection between them, despite having never met. It wasn’t romantic nor was it hostile…it was more… familial.

“How is your arm? You were wounded.”

“It will heal soon enough.”

Morgause walked closer to her. “You look tired.”

“I haven’t been sleeping,” said Morgana.

“I know for myself how troubling that can be.”

“Could it be that we’ve met somewhere before?”

Morgause shook her head slightly. A small smile appeared on her face. “I’m glad we have met now.”

“That’s a beautiful bracelet,” said Morgana, noticing it on Morgause’s wrist. The bracelet was silver and had designs of little golden leaves on the front.

“It was a gift…from my mother,” said Morgause. “Please, I would like you to have it.” She held it to her. “It’s a healing bracelet. It will help you sleep.”

Morgana shook her head. “I couldn’t. You must be tired. I’ll leave you to rest.”

“I hope you will remember me fondly,” called Morgause, as Morgana reached the door. Morgana nodded and left.

Later that night, Morgause quietly walked into Morgana’s room. Morgana was tossing in her sleep, breathing heavily due to her nightmares.

Morgause held up the bracelet in front of her and muttered an incantation:

“Gefultume hi thaet heo onslaepe (Help assist her to sleep)”.

She placed the bracelet on the table and left, while morgana slept soundly and still afterwards.

The next day, Morgause packed the rest of her belongings in a bag on her horse. Her sword was tucked safely away in a pocket. She noticed Arthur leading his brown horse forward, wearing a brown jacket and brown clothes. She tightened the rein together that was positioned over the side of the horses’ face.

Now was the perfect opportunity to mention the one person that Arthur missed the most. He would be willing to follow her to the castle even more.

“Congratulations on your victory,” said Arthur. “You’re a skillful swordsman…woman. Swords…swordswoman.”

Ignoring his stuttering words, Morgause walked over to him. She placed her hand on his horse’s nose.

“You have a beautiful horse,” she mentioned casually. Her eyes flashed orange for a second. Now the horse would know where the desired location was, and thus could take Arthur to it.

“I shall expect to see you three days hence,” she reminded him.

“How will I find you?” asked Arthur.

“When the time comes, you will know your way.”

Morgause smiled as she walked back to her white horse.

“If I don’t show up, it might be because I don’t know where I’m going,” Arthur mentioned.

“The path you must follow will become clear to you.”

Arthur stared in confusion as she hosted herself on her horse.

“I should thank you for allowing me to retrieve my sword.”

“I’m starting to wish I hadn’t,” said Arthur, already feeling unease in her presence.

“You showed yourself to be a man of honor. You inherited that trait from your mother.”

Curiosity sparked in Arthur’s eyes and face. “You knew my mother?”

“I knew her very well.”

Morgause rode off on her horse, ignoring Arthur’s call of “Wait!”

Morgause was back on the Isle of the Blessed soon afterwards. She waved her hand across her chest and her fancy red dress appeared back on. She could sense Arthur and Merlin approaching as she waited on top of some stone steps. A chopping block with a deadly black handled ax was stuck on top of it nearby.

“You kept your promise,” Morgause mentioned as she walked slowly down the steps when she saw Arthur. Merlin stared at her with suspicious and cautious eyes.

Arthur looked at her, wondering what the challenge would be. He wore armor over his chest.

“What is the nature of the challenge you wish to set me?” he asked.

“Place your head on the block,” she replied, removing the ax from its position.

Arthur hesitated, cursing himself for falling into this trap. Instinctual fear kept him rooted to the spot.

“You gave me your word that you would do anything I asked,” Morgause reminded him.

It was true. It was his duty to keep any promises he made to anyone.

“Arthur, don’t,” said Merlin.

Arthur nodded, gulped, and stepped forward.

“What are you doing?” asked Merlin in disbelief. “I won’t let you do this!”

“Stay out of this, Merlin,” Arthur replied, as he rested his chin on the wood. He closed his eyes and braced himself for the impact. She lifted up the ax…and then placed it to the side of the block.

Arthur stood up.

Morgause explained, “You have shown me that you are truly a man of your word, Arthur Pendragon. And for that, I will grant you one wish. Tell me what it is that your heart most desires.”

Arthur stepped forward, intrigued.

“You said you knew my mother,” said Arthur. “Tell me all that you know about her.”

“Perhaps you would like to see her.”

Arthur stared, stunned. Could she bring her back from the dead?

“I want that more than anything,” he breathed.

“As you wish.”

Arthur and Merlin followed her into the narrow courtyard. Morgause prepared for the ritual by lighting the white candles on the altar in front of them.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” asked Merlin who stood next to Arthur.

“If you were granted the same opportunity, would you not want to meet your father?”

Merlin knew that Arthur had a good point. But that didn’t stop Merlin from being concerned.

“Uther won’t forgive you if he finds out you’ve collaborated with a sorcerer.”

“What if my father’s attitude toward magic is wrong?” Arthur wondered aloud.

“You really think that?”

“Perhaps it’s not as simple as he would have us believe. Morgause is a sorcerer. She has caused us no harm. Surely not everyone who practices magic can be evil.”

“We don’t actually know why she’s doing this,” Merlin argued.

But their conversation was interrupted when Morgause turned around to face the duo. “It is time.” She blew out the flame on a stick. She held out her hand, mentioning Arthur to step forward. She turned him around. “Close your eyes.”

Arthur did so.

Morgause spoke an incantation:

“Aris mid min miclan mithe thin suna to helpe. Hider eft funda the on thyssum laenum life the gehldost waes. (Use my power to arise from death to help your son. Hurry back to this world.)”

Time seemed to slow down and the wind rustling the leaves slowed down as well. Morgause had seen in the crystal what Arthur would say during the ritual. An illusion of a woman with blonde hair and a gown was conjured; the late Queen Igraine. She spoke in a script created by Morgause, yet it was so genuine that Arthur would believe every word of it.

“Arthur,” said the fake Igraine softly.

Arthur gasped.

“Arthur,” she said again.

“Mother.”

Arthur couldn’t believe that she was standing right in front of him.

“My son,” she called, running over to hug him deeply. She wore a small crown on her blonde head. She wore a cream colored dress with silver vines decorating the front.

“When I last held you, you were a tiny baby.”

They separated. “I remember your eyes,” she said fondly. “You were staring up at me. Those few seconds I held you were the most precious of my life.” She rested the palm of her hand against his cheek.

“I’m so sorry,” said Arthur.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Igraine replied.

“It was my birth that caused you to die,” choked Arthur, his eyes wet with tears.

“No, you are not to blame,” Igraine reassured.

“I cannot bear that thought that you died because of me.”

Igraine embraced him tightly. “Do not think that. It is your father who should carry the guilt for what happened.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

Igraine shrugged it off, “It’s not important. What matters is that you lived.”

“Why should my father feel guilty?” Arthur asked as they separated.

“It is better left in the past.”

Arthur shook his head. “You cannot leave me with more questions. Please,” he pleaded.

“Your father…” Igraine began. “He was desperate for an heir. Without a son, the Pendragon dynasty would come to an end. But I could not conceive.”

“Then how was I born?” asked Arthur.

Igraine went silent, her head downcast.

“Tell me,” Arthur urged.

“Your father betrayed me,” Igraine said with a crack in her voice. “He went to the sorceress Nimueh and asked for her help in conceiving a child. You were born of magic.”

Arthur couldn’t believe what he was hearing. All his life, he had been taught that magic was the root of all evil.

“That’s not true,” he said, shaking his head, trying to deny it.

“I’m sorry Arthur,” said Igraine. “Your father has deceived you as he deceived me. To create a life, a life must be taken. Your father knew that.”

“No.”

“He sacrificed my life so the Pendragon dynasty could continue. It makes you no less my son nor me any less proud of you. Now I see you, I would have given my life willingly.”

Arthur sobbed and closed his eyes.

“Do not let this knowledge change you,” she said.

The wind gusted and time returned to normal. Arthur opened his eyes and found himself back at the altar.

“No!” yelled Arthur in desperation. “Bring her back!”

“I cannot,” Morgause said calmly. “Once the doorway is closed, it is closed forever.” Of course, Morgause knew that there were other ways to reaching the dead and that she could do so again, but she didn’t tell him that.

She stepped toward him. “I am truly sorry that you learned of your mother’s fate in this way. I can only imagine how it must feel to discover your father is responsible for her death. It is an unforgivable betrayal.”

Morgause walked away out of sight, her red gown trailing across the grass. She felt satisfied when Merlin and Arthur rode back to Camelot. Arthur would be so angry at Uther, that he would kill him for sure. Morgause would get her revenge without having to be there herself.

The next day, she stared at the crystals and muttered a spell:

“Aetiewe me tha the ic sece. (Show me those I seek.)”

Much to her dismay and frustration, instead of Uther being dead, he was very much alive, laughing with Arthur at the table in Camelot. Morgause’s plan had failed. Determination rose in her brown eyes.

‘No matter. I will just make another one. I will find a way to make Camelot fall. If it comes to it, I won’t hesitate in storming the castle and killing Uther myself.’