Pendragon: The Witch-Queen Awakened
- Thread starter The Kingmaker
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RESPONSES:
Viden: Thanks! Welcome aboard.
Mr. Capiatlist: Too bad Morgana hasn't got the River Thames yet. Give it time.
Omen: Thank you. I'm glad you like it.
Viden: Thanks! Welcome aboard.
Mr. Capiatlist: Too bad Morgana hasn't got the River Thames yet. Give it time.
Omen: Thank you. I'm glad you like it.
CHAPTER FOUR: PERCHANCE TO DREAM
Excerpts from the Grimoire of Morgana Pendragon
11 September 1069
I have had ill dreams of late. In the darkest hours of the night, I find myself wandering in a twisted, shadowy world. All the buildings are in ruins and everything is overgrown with thorns and briars. A dark shade seems to linger just beyond my sight. Worst of all, I keep hearing a distant voice call out my name: “Morgana… Morgana…” It is quite unsettling.
***
28 October 1069
Were it not for one solitary fortress, all of Cambria would have been within my clutches by now. I suppose it is only fitting that the last resistance would be found in the city of Caerleon. The Fortress of the Legions was ever loyal to my dear brother, who held his court there on numerous occasions. It will be most satisfying to finally possess one of the brightest jewels of Arthur’s crown.
As I did not wish for my prize to be damaged, I ordered Eadgar’s warriors not to sack the town. In the dead of night, I crept into the town square myself and applied a tincture of mandrake and henbane to the central well. In its state of dilution, that particular potion will not permanently harm Caerleon’s denizens, but it will most certainly have a rather debilitating effect upon their constitution. I would like to see them try to defend their fortress once their bowels have turned to water.
***
31 October 1069
This year I shall celebrate the festival of Samhain in my new fortress of Caerleon. The majority of the town is still abed, recovering from my tender ministrations, so I have fortunately obtained a modicum of peace and quiet that will allow me to focus on my enchantments. My latest efforts at scrying have produced yet another prize; I have discovered through my second sight that a trove of treasure is hidden away beneath the floors of the local Christian church.
It is a vestige of Arthur’s old royal regalia, doubtless hidden away by some greedy peon after my brother’s disappearance. I shall be most pleased to requisition these items for my own use. Cambria has a proper queen once again, so the realm also stands in need of some proper crown jewels.
***
1 December 1069
The dreams persist. I was something of a seer back in the younger days of my other life, so I suppose I should not be surprised that I am once again subject to uncanny visions. Nevertheless, I have not passed a restful night in at least a week. This past evening, I dreamed once more of the Otherworld. Once again I heard the ghostly voice calling to me on the wind, only this time I also beheld a great bear in the distance. Its fur was as black as midnight and its claws as long as swords. Yet despite its ferocity it did not seem to mean me harm. In fact, if I did not know better I might have thought it was beckoning me forward. I called to it and it rose up on its haunches to face me, as if to speak.
But at that moment I awoke.
***
12 February 1070
I suppose it is worth noting that I have borne my husband a healthy son. I have named the child Mordred in the hope that he may succeed where his namesake failed so very long ago. Perhaps this tiny babe will be the one to aid me in retaking what is rightfully mine… perhaps this child will be Arthur’s bane at last. I have sent the wet-nurses away--their inferior sustenance would only make the boy as weak as water. No, I shall nurse the child myself so that from my nurturing he may grow strong and powerful.
The dreams have not ceased. Perhaps I shall dream again tonight.
***
Interlude
As the fell winds assailed her with ever increasing severity, Morgana drew her mantle closer around her. The false sun glowed only dimly at the cusp of the horizon.
“Hello?” cried Morgana, “Is anybody there?”
“Morgana Pendragon.” The voice that spoke was so quiet she could barely hear it, but it spoke so nonchalantly that Morgana was taken aback. Whoever had spoken sounded completely unsurprised to see her, maybe even almost amused.
“Who’s there?!” Morgana gasped, “Reveal yourself!”
“Morgana,” said the voice again, “I know you have your inner demons, but it is amusing that they all seem to look like me.”
“I know that voice,” Morgana growled, “Step out of the shadows and show yourself, you coward!”
“Now, now,” the voice chided, “You always did have a bit of a temper, though I suppose that extra bit of fire only added to your charm.” At that, a human figure slowly materialized out of thin air. He had long white hair and a beard, and wore a long, tattered robe.
“Merlin, you old goat!” spat Morgana, “I should have known! Why have you brought me here?”
“Oh dear,” said Merlin, “Who said anything about me bringing you here? This is your dream, Morgana, so really it is I who should be asking that question of you! So why have you brought me here to the Otherworld?”
“What are you playing at?” said Morgana impatiently, “Of course I didn’t choose to bring you here. Up until now I didn’t even know whether you still lived!”
“Why, of course I still live!” chuckled Merlin, “What a silly thing to say. Bless me, Morgana, but you always did have a penchant for stating the obvious. I’m as much alive today as I was the day after I was born and as I will be the day before I die! And I’m in the same place I’ve been the last two times your mind has reached out to me, asleep under the old grey apple tree.”
“So it is true,” Morgana muttered under her breath.
“Eh, what’s that?” said Merlin, “You’ll have to speak up. The years have not been nearly as kind to me as they have to you.”
“And I suppose you expect me to thank you for that?” Morgana responded sourly, “For putting me to sleep for five hundred years, dreaming endlessly with no way to awaken until centuries after everyone I’d ever known had perished?”
Merlin cleared his throat. “Ah, not everyone, my pretty little viper’s nest. You’re talking to me, aren’t you?”
“And just what are you, really?” said Morgana, the venom clear in her voice, “A phantom? A shade? A distant memory brought back just to torment me?”
“I told you,” chided Merlin, “I’m asleep under the apple tree. You always had a powerful soul--if you stretch your mind forth a bit, you might even see where my body lies.”
Morgana scowled. She closed her eyes and let her spirit drift until at last she saw him, an old man asleep under an even older apple tree. “Well if what you say is true, then tell me: where am I?”
“Another silly question, Morgana. You’re asleep in your own bed as usual… and in Caerleon, of all places! My, you have been busy! And… who is that handsome young man lying beside you?”
“Never you mind,” said Morgana, “All you need to know is that it’s not you and never will be again.”
Merlin merely chuckled at that. “I might have expected you would be a bit more grateful for all I’ve given you… a new life, your youth and your looks restored, a second chance at love?”
Morgana reddened. “And with all my former dreams now dashed to pieces while I’m forced to live in a world where magic is long since forgotten? Do you expect me to be grateful for that?”
“Magic? Forgotten?” Merlin seemed a bit mystified at that, “Oh no, my dear. Not forgotten. It’s just a bit harder to find, that's all. But if I were you, I’d be satisfied with what I already had. Those who still have magic in this world now guard it much more jealously.”
“Oh?” Morgana was skeptical.
“Yes, you should be more careful,” Merlin continued, “For starters, from now on I’d refrain from trespassing in the realm of the Aes Sídhe if I were you. I understand one of them nearly led you off a few months ago.”
“…The bear?” It was Morgana’s turn to be taken aback. “The Sídhe? You mean that I… that we…”
“Are standing in Tír na nÓg as we speak?” said Merlin, “Where else did you suppose your Dreamworld was? You really need to be more careful where you let your spirit wander off to while you slumber. The Aes Sídhe themselves are wide awake. And very dangerous. In Hibernia they are particularly strong. They’ve let you off so far because of your ignorance, but I doubt they’ll be so merciful in the future. Believe me, it’ll take far more than your pretty face to save you from the likes of them.”
“And just why do you care?” asked Morgana, “The man I knew as Merlin may have cared for me once when we were young, but those days are long since dead and gone. Why should I trust anything you say?”
“You’re alive, aren’t you?” said Merlin, raising an eyebrow, “I didn’t have to use a sleeping curse, you know. Did it ever occur to you that I might actually want you to live?”
“Well the feeling is hardly mutual,” said Morgana, her temper flaring again, “And you better hope I never take a trip to your little grey apple tree, now that you’ve been so foolish as to reveal your hiding place. Because believe me, this little dream is nothing compared to the nightmares I will put you through.”
“Then I suppose that’s my cue to leave,” said Merlin, “Remember what I told you. Beware the Sídhe. Oh, and Morgana? Try and enjoy your life for once. Sleep tight!”
At that, the wizard disappeared, and Morgana woke up gasping in her own bed.
The next page in Morgana’s Grimoire is blank, save for a few words scrawled in red ink: “the Wizard sleeps,” “Hibernia,” and “Sídhe.”
***
Excerpt from the Journal of Emrys of Myrddinedd
14 February 1070
Greetings, dear reader! Since you are reading this, I must assume that you have somehow obtained my journal. Do not fret: I am writing this for you. Somebody needs to understand what’s really transpiring in Cambria, at least, and it might as well be you. Oh, do be careful and use a bit of discretion with what you read in here, would you?
I suppose I should introduce myself then--that is, if you plan on continuing to read my book. I imagine it would get pretty tiresome reading a book when you don’t know who the author is. Suffice it to say, my name is Emrys, dear reader, and despite my tender years, by the grace of my lady Morgana Pendragon I am the humble chancellor of the realm of Cambria. It is the greatest fortune that I have obtained such prestige while yet in my youth, but then, my lady is most generous. (Unless you happen to cross her, in which case you’ll be too dead to care.)
Suffice it to say my lady is no ordinary ruler.
But then, as I said dear reader, my purpose in writing to you is to ensure that a proper record of events is kept. (One can only stand to read so much of the false praise of sniveling monks, I find, before the stomach starts to turn.) And there are events of such significance that are about to transpire that I felt it would be remiss to let them go unrecorded.
Yesterday morning, my lady Morgana came to me quite flustered and expressed a very strong desire to organize an expedition to Ireland. Considering that she has only just barely consolidated all of Cambria under her rule, I rather gently suggested that she might wish to focus on building some internal infrastructure at home before spending valuable resources on an expensive foreign campaign. However, in rather direct language she expressed that such things were my affair and that if I couldn’t assist her in her concerns that I might find myself in the ominous position of being less than useful to her.
I then gingerly suggested that an expedition to the Isle of Manau might be a very wise intermediate step, that Manau would be a good staging area for a later invasion of Ireland and that it would be safer to put down the Vikings of the Isles first, rather than allowing them to constantly raid our supply convoys. (They are allied with the folk of Dubhlinn, after all.)
To my great surprise she agreed, telling me to arrange it. So I now find myself in the rather awkward position of arranging an invasion against the Manx, pitting weary Britons against battle-hardened Vikings and sea raiders. What fun.
But that is enough writing for today. There is much to do, after all.
I am Emrys of Myrddinedd and my duty is to protect the Lady Morgana… from herself. I do hope you know how to keep a secret. Till next time!
***
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Merlin if back, as I hoped... and how ironically that an Emrys is protecting (again? and Myrddinedd of all places? ) Morgana...
lots of fun intermixing of themes, dreams, plots and hopes there. Good to see that motherhood hasn't reduced Morgana's temper, or her creativity
RESPONSES:
Kurt_Steiner: Good eye, I'm glad somebody caught on to that. Keep your eyes peeled for the plot to thicken yet again.
Mr. Capiatlist: My pleasure. Thanks for continuing to read and comment!
Nikolai: Glad you approve!
Viden: True enough. Though I flatter myself that this story is a bit unique among all the other Welsh AARs out there.
loki100: That's high praise. Thanks very much as always.
Kurt_Steiner: Good eye, I'm glad somebody caught on to that. Keep your eyes peeled for the plot to thicken yet again.
Mr. Capiatlist: My pleasure. Thanks for continuing to read and comment!
Nikolai: Glad you approve!
Viden: True enough. Though I flatter myself that this story is a bit unique among all the other Welsh AARs out there.
loki100: That's high praise. Thanks very much as always.
Great read! I have to confess that, at first, I was not impressed by the Merlin series however, I eventually grew to like it. From what I remember from the series, though, I thought Morgana might have a fit hearing the name "Emrys" spoken again around her .
.
Oh, she most definitely would. Albeit this AAR isn't really set in the contiunuum of that series--I'm just using some of its good imagery to set the scene of the story. Katie McGrath and Colin Morgan fit their parts so perfectly that I couldn't resist using them. I have to agree though that Merlin has really grown into its own. I'm sorry to see it end now, as it has become one of my favorite programs.
As for Emrys... in the 11th century world that Morgana has just emerged into, Emrys is likely just another common name. It's Welsh for "Ambrose." In fact, the founder of the Pendragon dynasty, Ambrosius Aurelianus, is also known in Welsh as Emrys. So it's not just a name Morgana would be familiar with, it's her late uncle's name.
As for Emrys... in the 11th century world that Morgana has just emerged into, Emrys is likely just another common name. It's Welsh for "Ambrose." In fact, the founder of the Pendragon dynasty, Ambrosius Aurelianus, is also known in Welsh as Emrys. So it's not just a name Morgana would be familiar with, it's her late uncle's name.
There is little I can say that hasn't already been said. Merlin is back, adding another exciting twist to the plot, and I am eager to see what happens in the Isle of Man...
As always, thanks for reading and commenting my friend. I do hope what I've got planned next doesn't disappoint.
To think I had let my attention slip from this one...
well I'm back to reading it now.
Also did another Navarra game where I managed to inherit Deheubarth and use it as a springboard to form Wales (Muslims are a growing threat now, though thanks to using the Broken kingdoms mod England is less of a threat) and named my first daughter by my first Welsh cultured ruler Morgana in honor of this AAR.
At age 16 she has already: murdered an uncle (due to a well supported plot to kill her, she was 8 at the time) and finished the conquest of de-jure Wales (at age 9)
well I'm back to reading it now.
Also did another Navarra game where I managed to inherit Deheubarth and use it as a springboard to form Wales (Muslims are a growing threat now, though thanks to using the Broken kingdoms mod England is less of a threat) and named my first daughter by my first Welsh cultured ruler Morgana in honor of this AAR.
At age 16 she has already: murdered an uncle (due to a well supported plot to kill her, she was 8 at the time) and finished the conquest of de-jure Wales (at age 9)
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I'm flattered. Glad you're enjoying the story. I hope to be able to produce another update in the next few days.
Glad you're enjoying the story. I hope to be able to produce another update in the next few days.
Okay, I chuckled out loud at Merlin's hoping we could keep a secret. All I have to say is that I'm sad this is only four pages long... I can't wait for the next update, and your love of the time period and knowledge of the era shine through like usual.
Waiting anxiously for Morgana and Merlin,
BT
All I have to say is that I'm sad this is only four pages long... I can't wait for the next update, and your love of the time period and knowledge of the era shine through like usual. Waiting anxiously for Morgana and Merlin,
BT