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Morgana woke with a gasp. Again. It wasn’t exactly a dream that woke her, she wasn’t sure if it even had a name. It was a feeling in the pit of her stomach, a mixture of fear, dread, but also an abundant sense of freedom, which if her guardian ever heard about, she wouldn’t know how he would react. Morgana knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep again, not until this feeling passed, who knew how long that was going to take?
And it was fruitless. Morgana tossed, turned, tried to read by the very minimal natural light (Uther wouldn’t let her have a candle burn in her room, he said she wasn’t old enough) and laid flat on her back staring at the ceiling. She huffed out a sigh. There was no one she could talk to in the castle at this hour. Morgana couldn’t go and wake Arthur, he was grumpy at the best of times, let alone before dawn had broken. And there was no way she would seek out any of the knights. Morgana could already see the look on Uther’s face if he heard that she’d sneaked out of one of the knights’ rooms in the early hours. She could see his face right before hers. She could smell his breath.
No. There was only one person she wanted to see, who she could talk to about this. And Morgana could reach her if she were careful. There. Morgana decided she would at least try.
She threw the covers back, the cold air hitting her more stringently than she’d expected it to, and she grabbed a thick woollen brown overcoat that was a little too big for her. Uther had gifted it to her, said it belonged to his late wife but she hardly ever wore it. Morgana took her most comfortable boots, slipped into the garments easily, jumped down from her bed and headed towards the door. She listened against the wooden panels for any footsteps, but nothing rang through the timber. Ever so slowly, she pulled the door open, creeping around the frame to check that her ears hadn’t mistaken her, and closed the door behind her, running as fast as she dared down the corridors, darting behind a column or two, before waiting for the night patrol to pass before the citadel.
As they did, Morgana sneaked behind them, taking pause every now and then to hang back ad make sure she wasn’t discovered. Morgana repeated this motion until she found herself facing a door, exactly where she wanted to be.
She knocked quietly, too quietly, but she needed to at this time of night.
No response, unsurprisingly.
Morgana reached up and peered through a nearby window before footsteps behind her made her dart behind a barrel for cover. Once the guards had moved on, Morgana went back to the door. Again, she knocked softly, but in the dead of night she heard movement from within, and footsteps approached the door. It opened.
“Morgana?” Gwen mumbled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “What are you doing here?”
The girl stood in a purple nightgown that was slightly too short for her, a sign she was growing, and the hems at her wrists were fraying slightly. Her hair was in low plaits by her shoulders, and her feet were bare. The expression Gwen wore was slightly disbelieving, but it was more tired than anything else. She yawned softly.
“I couldn’t sleep, something woke me,” Morgana whispered. The sound of marching footsteps appeared behind her again and she looked urgently at Gwen who bustled Morgana past her and through the door, locking it behind them both.
“Please don’t wake anyone, I’ll be in so much trouble,” and she hustled Morgana over to her sleeping space. The pair of them crammed into Gwen’s tiny cot, Morgana deposited her coat and shoes underneath, and they pulled the scratchy sheets around them to keep out the cool night air. They were shoulder to shoulder, staring up and wide awake. Gwen woke the silence with a whisper, as quiet as a mouse.
“What happened in this one?” Astute as ever, was Gwen.
Morgana didn’t really know how to begin. All she could remember were fragments, as she did every time, but they always left her with the same feeling of unease. “I was older, I caught a glimpse of myself in some water, a river, stream? But then I was in the throne room and there was a knight who challenged the king.” She paused to make sure she hadn’t spoken too loudly and woken Tom and Elyan, before she realised all was fine, and she continued. “It all changed again and this lady looked at me, right at me.” Morgana shuddered. “And the last time, she was lying on a cart and her face had changed, as if she’d been burned.” Gwen inhaled sharply beside her, eyes wide as she took in Morgana’s recount.
“What do you think it means?”
Morgana paused. “Maybe I will meet this lady at some point. Although I hope not, she gave me a very weird feeling.” Morgana knew Gwen would understand her. She felt movement beside her and Gwen was on her side, facing her. Morgana matched and she looked deeply into Gwen’s eyes, the rich browns so dark in the low light, down her nose and to Gwen’s soft lips.
She watched how they moved when Gwen spoke. “Morgana,” she began, and Morgana pulled her gaze away and back to Gwen’s eyes, “what are you going to do?”
With the images of her dream already fading from her mind to be long forgotten by morning, she sighed. “Can I sleep here? I…” Morgana tailed off.
“You don’t want to be on your own,” Gwen finished for her, and Morgana shook her head, avoiding eye contact. She hated admitting to weakness, and that had been instilled into her by Uther many years ago. Even saying it aloud to Gwen, her best friend, still felt wrong. “Of course you can stay, you know you can.” Gwen cupped Morgana’s face and their eyes locked together. “Of course you can.”
Morgana took Gwen’s free hand in her own and squeezed it tightly. “Thank you.” The pair both turned to lie on their backs, but their fingers stayed intertwined. Morgana closed her eyes and drifted off into a calm, restful and dreamless sleep.