Fic: When you were young
Morgana fidgeted in her bright gown, feeling uncomfortable in seamstress’s little quarters. There was no breeze through the window and she’d had to stand still for so long in one fashion while Alice measured her with her tape and her neat thin hands. Another dress in the making. If Uther thought buying her another dress would cheer her up and convince her to talk to him, he was dead wrong. All the lovely gowns and presents could never make up for what she lost. And she blamed him. She knew somewhere deep within her that if it wasn’t for Uther, her brilliant father would be alive. It was guilt that drove his generosity, guilt that drove most of his actions towards her and she was determined to look upon everything he gave her with disdain.
Since her arrival in Camelot, she’d locked herself away in the room the king had given her. There she’d cry and miss her home. It was a nice room, but it wasn’t really hers. Her old room had a view of the forest and on windy days the scent of pine blew in. Her father, strong and handsome, with a wide smile, told her stories in that room. They’d curl up like cats around each other in her old bed and he’d make her laugh with his ridiculous tales and cry with his tragic ones. He was the one soothed her when the nightmares came. Tears unbidden sprung to her eyes. Her father. How she missed him. She wished more than anything to be back home. She hated it here. It had been four weeks and still she had hardly spoken to anybody. Except for Arthur and that was only because he was so annoying she just had to tell him to shut up. She thought Arthur would require someone to tell him to shut up on a regular basis to keep him tolerable. Right now he was the most arrogant and smelly boy she’d ever met. That he was the first person she spoke to meant nothing.
He’d crept in to her room, on a sunny afternoon towards the end of her first week in Camelot. She hadn’t spoken to anyone at all. Not the kindly faced serving maids or the stern faced king and certainly not his poo-faced son. Today, like most days since her father had ridden into battle and hadn’t comeback, she was curled up under her blanket missing her father and wishing the world away. Arthur had come in noisily and poked her. Repeatedly. She ignored him, but that only seemed to encourage him. He started talking to her each sentence punctuated by him prodding with an ever increasing firmness.
Hey, you…
Poke
It’s Morgana isn’t it
Poke
I’m Arthur
Poke
Hey are you deaf?
Poke
Maybe you really can’t talk
Poke
My father says you’re going to live with us
Poke
And he’s going to treat you like you’re his daughter
Poke
so that makes you my sister, sort of.
Poke
My father’s the king, you know
Poke
And I’m the prince
Poke
So you should talk to me.
Poke
Oi !
Arthur didn’t notice her slowly scooting closer to the edge of the bed as he got increasing frustrated with her silence. He didn’t notice as she slight lifted the blanket and saw she was eye level with his stomach. He didn’t notice as she curled her hand into a fist. She punched him once, hard, straight in the stomach, he toppled over making an OOOF noise as he fell. That got his attention. She leapt up, her hair loose, her face angry.
‘That’s for poking me so much you donkey brain!’ she gave him a soft kick in the belly with her foot. Not too hard, she didn’t want to hurt him, she just wanted him to leave her alone. Arthur grabbed her around the ankle and pulled her down on the floor. She landed on top of him with a squeak and started thwacking him with her small fists. He rolled about and generally made an awkward lump of himself. She kicked him again. Not so gently.
‘Let me go you barbarian boy!’ she shouted as she tried to stand up.
‘I knew it! I knew you could talk!’ he exclaimed quite gleefully for a boy who just been kicked. Twice. By his almost sister. He released her and they both got awkwardly to their feet. He smiled at her triumphantly. Infuriatingly. ‘ I knew it!’ he said again. She thwacked him on the arm for good measure.
‘Well ! Now that I’m talking to you I can tell you that you are the most annoying boy ever!’
‘Well you’re the meanest girl ever!’ he retorted. ‘And you smell!’ he added for extra emphasis.
‘Well you’re the biggest brat I’ve ever met!’
‘well you were a lot less annoying when you weren’t talking to anybody.’
‘Well if I’m so annoying why don’t you go away and leave me to my annoying self’
‘Well maybe I will! He said, pouting. He had an excellent mouth for pouting Morgana noted. He took a step closer and looked, well Morgana couldn’t think of any other word for it than disappointed. Like he had hoped she would have something different to say to him when she finally spoke. The look was only there for a second and then vanished. Morgana isn’t sure if she imagined it or not. All she knew is that sad look was replaced by one decidedly mischievous. He took another step towards her and pulled her ear.
‘Tag, you’re it.’ He cried and scampered away. That little brat, Morgana thought to herself, I’m going to engage in an immature and undignified game of chase. Still Morganga thought, when she caught him, which she would and quickly, she could always give him another kick for being such a brat. After all he clearly needed one. And Morgana, had never lost a game of chase when she played it with her father, she never lost at anything really. Her competitive streak flared up and she bounded after him. She did catch him, not as quickly as she thought she would, near the stables. She grabbed him, kicked him, told him he was a brat and he’d never catch her and then pelted back to her room, Arthur fast on her heels. She climbed the stairs two at a time and got to her room just in time to slam the door in Arthur’s gormless face! She giggled quietly to herself on the other side of the door and the stopped abruptly. It was the first time she had laughed since coming to Camelot.
‘snot funny! You’re cheating Morgana!’ Arthur complained from the other side of the door.
‘Arthur, what are you doing here!’ called an adult voice. The physician, Gaius, his name was. He had diagnosed her with ‘just needing time to adjust.’ Uther had thought her refusal to speak to him, might’ve been some sort of malady, perhaps she was mute and Gorlois had never told him. Towards the end, there were a lot of things Gorlois would never tell Uther. She had been sent to Gaius. His chambers had been warm and inviting. He spoke to her softly and gently. One of his eyebrows was higher than the other. Morganga had been fascinated by it. She liked Gaius well enough to open the door, just a crack. She popped her head out.
‘Honestly Gaius he’s been bothering me non-stop all afternoon! ’ Morgana said in her haughtiest voice. ‘Please take him away!’ she added with a little dismissive wave of her hand. Gaius’s eyebrow lifted higher than it already was. This, of all things, was not the first thing he thought Morgana would say to him. Arthur’s jaw dropped and he looked outraged the way only an eight-year-old Pendragon can.
‘No, I wasn’t! Gaius! she’s cheating!’ he exclaimed pointing at her .
‘He poked me.’ Morgana said matter of factly.
‘She kicked me. Three times!’
‘He started it.’
‘Arthur, I’m sure you’re father would not be pleased to hear that you have been neglecting you’re studies to bother the Lady Morgana.’ Something fell in Arthur’s face at the mention of his father, as if the boy could imagine nothing worse than displeasing him. Morgana who lived to displease Uther found this curious. Uther was nothing like her father and for this she was both grateful and resentful.
‘Geoffery has been looking everywhere for you sire’ Gaius added as he lead Arthur away. Upon reaching the corner Arthur turned back towards her an stuck his tongue out at her. Morgana responded in kind and closed the door. Perhaps being Lady Morgana of Camelot wouldn’t be so bad., if it helped her get one over Arthur.
Arthur sat at the dining table with his father and watched him pick at his food feeling bewildered. His father rarely ever sent for him at meal times. Often Arthur ate alone in his room. There were occasions, birthdays and holidays and celebrations and times when this odd mood came over his father that they dined together. His odd moods struck every now and again. Gaius explained that they happened when his father thought too long about Arthur’s mother and what she would have wanted. Suddenly Uther wanted to be a happy family, or at least a family that ate together. The odd moods would last a couple of very confusing days, when the king wanted to do things with his small son. They’d eat together and Uther would sit across the table and just look at him in a way that unnerved Arthur though he couldn’t even begin to understand why. They’d go riding together, his father would come to his lessons and 5 times (Arthur knew it was five because he cherished each memory) his father had tucked him in at night and told him a story. The stories were mostly about an evil and terrifying witch called Nimue and all the horrible things she did. The stories gave Arthur no end of nightmares, but he loved to remember his father sitting next to him on the big bed and telling them, his hands gesturing wildly, he did all the voices. The stories always ended with his father bravely defeating the evil witch. The way his father told it though, made Arthur think there was a lot more to the story. He asked his father for the real ending once and Uther had gotten up abruptly, spoken to him sternly and left, leaving Arthur mystified and sad. That was the end of his last odd mood. Arthur thought he would never have another. His father wasn’t exactly a warm man, but he had been distant ever since that last story. Gaius said he didn’t like to be questioned.
But this night wasn’t an odd mood night. Arthur could tell because his father wasn’t looking at him in that intense way. He seemed, if anything, nervous. Arthur had never thought his father got nervous. But there he sat moving the meat around his plate while Arthur ate awkwardly next to him. His father glanced at him, coughed, sighed, coughed again and then finally asked how Arthur would like to have a sister.
Arthur knew that his father would need a lady friend to have another baby and that he’d have to be married to the lady friend for the baby to be his proper sister. At least that’s how he thought court worked. He hadn’t been paying attention to his lessons with Geoffrey about how so-and-so married whats-her-face and begat whos-it. But he got the general idea. And as far as he knew there was no lady, unless his father had been keeping the lady a secret. That wouldn’t surprise him, his father had many secrets. But if that were the case why not introduce the lady, if she was to be his wife and make a baby sister for Arthur, she’d be sort of like a mother. Mothers were meant to tuck you in and tell you stories. Perhaps it was a woman’s job and that was why his father did it so infrequently.
Alys, his old nursemaid, told him lots of stories. She was a very good story teller, and she’d smelled like baking bread. When she’d hug Arthur he’d breathe her in. At his last birthday, his father had said he was now too old for a nursemaid and Alys had been sent away. Arthur was very unimpressed by this birthday present. Alys had been his and he wanted to keep her, but his father had said to him wistfully, that you couldn’t keep anyone forever. That people get lost, or they leave or they die and it was something that Arthur would have to become accustomed to. Still Arthur missed Alys terribly those first few months without her. Maybe his father’s new wife would be like Alys. Arthur smiled at the thought. And his father smiled back. He told Uther a little of what he thought, about ladies and didn’t his father need to get married before having a baby sister. He left off the bits about stories and Alys, because he thought that might make his father cranky.
His father choked a little on his wine and went red in the face. He explained about his friend Gorlois, another person his father couldn’t keep, Arthur thought. He told Arthur that Gorlois, who had been good and kind and brave, had died last month, fighting in the terrible war against magic. His father hated magic even more than he hated being questioned. Did Gorlois hate magic too? Or did he just go along with his father because he was king or because they were friends? His father had promised Gorlois he’s look after his daughter should anything happen to him. Morgana was ten years old, which was two years older than Arthur and she’d be arriving at the end of the week. His father was adopting her, so she would be like a daughter to him, which would make her a like a sister to Arthur. He wanted Arthur to make her feel welcome and treat her like a sister. Arthur had never had a sister and didn’t know how you were meant to treat them. He bit back his disappointment that there would be no new mother and no new bed time stories. Perhaps it would be for the best. He wouldn’t have known what to do with a baby sister, but a girl near his own age. Perhaps they could play together? Maybe she could even be his friend? Arthur would quite like a friend.
Arthur had a few friends, sort of. They were the sons of other noble men. They were there when the nobles were visiting and gone when the nobles left. They spoke to him obediently and deferentially because he was the prince, and Arthur suspected they played with him for the same reason. Arthur wasn’t supposed to get too friendly with any of them especially. his father said it was dangerous to play favourites. The noble kids did what Arthur told them and played the games he wanted to play and it wasn’t nearly as satisfying as Arthur hoped it would be. He’d watched other children, the village children, playing and rough housing with each other, and it wasn’t like that with the other noble kids. Mostly they were afraid of challenging him or hurting him and then their family would lose favour with the king.
Arthur would never tell his father, but one winter when Alys was sick and had been at home abed for four days and he’s missed her, he’d snucked out and visited her at her cottage. She was all curled up in bed and her mother was making some sort of soup on the stove and her younger brothers and sister were playing on the floor. Arthur had stayed there all day and had played just like a peasant child, with no one saying ‘yes sire’ and ‘no sire’ and ‘whatever you wish sire’. He’d spent the day rolling about in the dirt and wrestling with the boys and when they went down to the river and tried to catch a fish with a pointy stick, Arthur went along too. Arthur, who was just starting to learn how to hunt, came the closest to actually catching something. That evening they’d had the soup and though it was a lot thinner than the soup in Camelot and didn’t have much meat, it was the best soup he’d ever tasted. All the kids had sat around the fire and Alys got up, wrapped in many blankets and was telling them a story about a fairy and a leprechaun. It was the best day he could remember. He didn’t notice that there was only 2 beds in the house and that all the children would be sleeping on the floor that night, or that Alys’s mum had given him the biggest, fullest bowl or how empty the larder was. He only saw the simple fun of being a kid. For just one day he wished so much that he was not himself, that he could be a commoner and not a prince. Then he could spend all day playing and never have to worry about duty or disappointing his father. And the other kids would like him because he was Arthur and not because he was a prince.
He was excited about Morgana coming. She could be his friend. He could play with her like he’s seen like Alys’s brothers and sisters doing, like they were equals. They waited in the court yard. Arthur had been dressed in his nicest red jacket. His father too looked spick and spam. The knights were escorting Morgana from her old home and would be arriving any minute. They filed though the gate way two at a time, behind the first six knights rode a girl, pale as snow with big blue angry eyes. A servant scurried over to help her dismount. She landed nearly and with a swish of her purple gown started climbing the stairs. His father came down to meet her. He looked enthusiastic and nervous.
‘Morgana, my dear, I am so glad you’ve arrived’ his father exclaimed and knelt to kiss her gently on each cheek and hug her lightly. Arthur felt a surge of jealous arise unbidden. His father never hugged him!
‘Welcome to Camelot, it is your home now. Anything you need my dear, my servants will get for you. Here, I’ll have some one convey your luggage up to your room.’ Uther said with a slight gesture of his hands. There was a flurry of activity around the cart that had a vast array of trunks. Morgana said nothing, but surveyed them all with disdain.
‘ This is my son Arthur’ his father said gently nudging him forward.
‘Please to meet you Morgana’ Arthur said as he bent into an awkward bow. She did not say anything in reply. He felt, rather than saw, her sneer and she swept off after her luggage. How Rude! Arthur could never believe he wanted some one so aloof for a friend.
Morgana did not speak a word to anyone for the next few days. The servants and his father fell over themselves trying to please her but she was as chill as the fresh snow in winter and a prickly as a hedgehog. Arthur couldn’t see anything special about her and couldn’t understand why every one was making fools out of themselves trying to make her happy when she was obviously so stuck up. The servants talked about having patience with her, having just lost her father and all, it must’ve been a dreadful shock. Then they started talking about maybe she really was mute. Not rude just mute. Arthur scoffed at this. There wasn’t anything wrong with her than a bad case of being nasty. She sat across from them at dinner and was silent. She sat in her room and was silent. She sat across from him in front of the big fire place and was silent. And it was driving Arthur crazy. He was sure she could really talk. And tomorrow he was going try and make her.
He crept into her room that afternoon. He had escaped a history lesson with Geoffrey. Geoffrey was his father’s scribe and he taught Arthur how to read and write and all sorts of other things. Arthur liked Geoffrey well enough but his history lessons were so boring. Arthur was sure even Geoffrey was bored by them. He was doing both of them a favour by sneaking off to bother Morgana. He found her, in her room as usual, curled into a ball beneath her bed clothes. He stood there awkwardly for a second not knowing what to do. Then a flash of inspiration struck and he poked her. The ball made a snorty, irritated noise. He could keep doing this. He could just keep poking her until she told him to go away. That would prove that she could talk after all. He poked her again. And again and started talking to her. She was ignoring him! She was really starting to annoy him now. Arthur was used to getting his own way. No one had ever ignored Arthur like this, especially when Arthur was poking them.
Ooof! Out of nowhere he small fist had shot out from the blanket and she’d punched him square in the stomach. hard. He fell back, the wind knocked out of him. She was mean! She didn’t even give him any warning. She leapt up from the blanket.
‘That’s for poking me so much you donkey brain!’ she said and Arthur was too winded to reply. But he knew it! He knew she could really talk! She aimed a kick at his belly and he grabbed her round the ankle which surprised her and she fell down on top of him. She struggled to get up, slapping and kicking him. Arthur just rolled about awkwardly and didn’t try to hit her back. It wasn’t right to try and hit girls. Even if they were girls that liked to kick you.
‘Let me go you barbarian boy!’ she cried with one last kick.
‘I knew it!’ Arthur replied. He couldn’t believe it. He’d gotten her to speak. All those servants with their soft kind voices and his father with his deep commanding tone had been trying all week to get her to speak and the first person she had spoken to was Arthur. It made him feel oddly special in a strange way. If only he’d known that he just had to annoy her and she’d speak. But she was so mean. Now that she was speaking she was just being mean to him. And she smelt! This was not what he’d imagined talking to Morgana would be like. He felt a little disappointed. Maybe they wouldn’t be friends after all. He had one more idea. He took a step closer to her. He saw that her eyes were red rimmed. She’d been crying again. He wanted to cheer her up but didn’t even know how to begin. Perhaps getting out doors would work. But how to get her to follow him. He took another step closer and pulled her ear yelling ‘tag! your it’. He ran to the door and paused just outside it, waiting to see if she’d follow him. He heard her running footsteps and took off in earnest. She pelted after him. Blimey she was quick for a girl. He’d made it all the way to the stables before she grabbed him. The sun was shining and just for a moment Arthur would’ve sworn she was smiling.
‘You are such a brat’ she said pleasantly, ‘but you’re never going to catch me!’ she said gleefully aiming a kick at his shin, before turning and running. Arthur swore and took off after her. He got to her room just in time to see her slam the door in his face. That’s not fair! He would’ve caught her if it hadn’t been for the bloody door. And it was cheating beside! She wouldn’t let him in and just stood on the other side giggling at him. Gaius came along Morgana popped her head out and shooed him away. Gaius looked as surprised as Arthur had ever seen him. Arthur could’ve believe he was being dismissed. The old physician walked him to where room where Geoffrey gave him lessons, smiling to himself. When Arthur asked him why he looked so happy he just replied serenely.
‘It’s just nice to see Morgana has found a friend, that’s all. ‘