Made of this

The throne room is the heart of the castle. Three large thrones sit on the platform. The King centre with his Son to the right and the Lady Morgana to his left. This is where the court gathers for meetings and where civilians can gain council with their King.

Beware... This is also where judgement is held.

Made of this

Morgana le Fey
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Morgana le Fey
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Joined: Oct 4 2009, 01:16 PM

Feb 28 2011, 12:32 AM #1

It had been a day filled with laziness and boredom. Stretching her legs in the Market with her Ladies hadn't really helped. She had made correspondence with an acquaintance in Brittany, a Lady Briaca, and had done some stitching in her bower. There were no guards to accompany her riding and although she would normally ride out by herself regardless, she had heard Uthers moods were out of sorts recently - or indeed, more than usual. She sat at a stool working braids into her hair, as Lady Isemay worked the other side. Was she doomed to this? Rotting and ageing in a where she was kept by her idiot keeper? A King who killed on whims? She had realised that the fantasy of marriage had always been attractive because of the idea of escaping this place - men were easy to control, easy to manipulate. There was the need to make herself a real woman with a man, and she'd only kept her needs at bay for so long to keep Uther happy and tamed. If he ever found out the little things she'd achieved with men, he might lock her away somewhere. But she wasn't a Christian, and she didn't believe what they all believed. Ireland and some of the Saxon Kingdoms may have been converting, but she quietly kept her own ideas to herself.

Isemay helped her push silver rings over her braids and placed the sapphire set circlet over her head. It was plain silver, other than the fiery orange. Gold was all and well, but it would hardly match the colours of her dress, would it? Morgana found the lavish jewels a little tasteless "That will be all Isemay" the girls curtsied and left the room, closing doors behind her. A hand fell to her belly, and she groaned a little. If lying in bed didn't make her even more restless, she would this week. She knew it was feeble, but if she could get away with it, she didn't care. It was terrible for her, the pain in her back and her hips, her thighs. She wasn't shy about asking Gaius for remedies, it was just that....Merlin was always there, and she always felt a strange sensation in her chest when she was around him, like he could see into her and tell what she was thinking.

She pushed herself up from the stool and brushed down her skirts, only the best for her King - light blue brocade with a dark over tunic and long bell sleeves.
* * * * * * * *
The guards either side of the doors opened them for her, and she walked in. Her dyed, soft leather shoes crunched on the rushes beneath her feet, making the scent of flowers and herbs rise. The torches were lit, despite the hour and it gave the large hall a golden glow. She smiled and bowed her head at Knights and Lords, a few Lady courtiers, and curtsied at an aged Duke. She recognised him from council meetings she had managed to spy on as a child - he'd always had an eye for her mother, as she recalled.

As she came up to the dias, she clutched at her skirts and curtsied low "Your Highness" she arched a brow and rose up, eyeing him with vague interest. She wondered where Arthur was, Sir Balan, Sir Percival. What it very wrong to have any eye for Percival, the young Knight? He was just as tall and broad as the older Knights "I apologise for not visiting sooner...I have been making correspondence with friends in Brittany and Cornwall. My Cornish is becoming quite terrible" she waved a hand, a little flighty gesture. He didn't want him to think she had been getting up to anything too intelligent - a woman with a mind, how absurd to think!

"I hope you have been well?" she smiled a bright smile, gave a serving boy a side glance and swept a goblet of wine from him, taking a delicate sip. It would be best for him not to know of her heavy drinking too. Ladies drank watered wine of the court, not the strong stuff of the battle camps.

(If you'd wish to join the thread, PM me on Taran's account or Uther!)
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Uther Pendragon
Uther Pendragon

Feb 28 2011, 09:05 PM #2

Uther Pendragon seemed to be in the same attitude he always was, as far as the staff around him were concerned: angry and stressed. Of course, this had only gotten worse as of late, but they still thought he was over harsh on them when he was in a particularly bad mood. Some dreamed of being knights or members of the court: surely he wouldn’t treat them as badly as he did them.

But they were often reminded that the knights and nobles had lives difficult in other ways. More dangerous ways. And senior members of staff also told them that the King took very good care of them, considering their station and the fact that they still had jobs. But the older generation were bound to him from loyalty imbedded in them from long years of working for one person, and not, the newer servants felt, from any real sense of liking the man or their jobs. Both sides were mostly wrong and bias in their stances.

And Uther didn’t really care about either thought.

The King was sitting in his throne, listening to someone warble on about something they thought was more important than the things the Kingdom already had to focus on, though he was only half interested. It was an old argument, and even more of the other members of the court looked frustrated and bored that the topic was being brought up again. It was like beating a dead horse, and very few imagined the continued harping of it would stir the King to change his mind.

When his ward walked into the hall, Uther sat up a bit, gobletin hand, bowing his head lovingly at her and offering her the first smile he had given anyone all day.

“Morgana,” he said, watching as she explained why she hadn’t visited him earlier. He lifted his eyebrows in surprise, even chuckling dismissively. “I am certain your skills are not as limited as you profess.”

Uther’s attitude always changed whenever Morgana was present, though she might not notice the difference as she was used to it. Yes, he was still his angry, tyrannical self, but he clearly cared more about her than any of the members of court, and most of his knights. Indeed, if the servants should be jealous of anyone, it should be the King’s ward. Of course, they, as everyone else, had no idea of a secret only the King himself knew now. He treated Morgana like a dear daughter, who he wanted only the best for and had to be stern with, to teach, as he did with his son, valuable lessons to strengthen her character.

Though he didn’t seem aware of the wedge it had already formed between them, and the festering anger and bitterness left there to grow.

“I have been better,” the King scoffed, waving his hand to dismiss the others in the room. The warbler looked miserable, while most of the others seemed relieved. “but well enough. Tell me of this correspondence, then, that keeps you from visiting? That cannot be the sole occupancy of your time.”
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Morgana le Fey
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Morgana le Fey
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Joined: Oct 4 2009, 01:16 PM

Feb 28 2011, 11:39 PM #3

If only he knew, if only.

She smirked a little, but then laughed "You will have to ask my Ladies and acquaintances of that. A woman does not divulge the secrets of her bower lightly" he looked happy to see her, as he always did and she knew how much he doted upon her sometimes. But she had seen the other side of him, the darkness and the selfish needs that he possessed; above the usual narcissism of a King. He treated his son as if he were still a boy. No wonder he was so insolent. No wonder he felt the urgent need to prove himself a man, a leader. He had been a man for five years. Would Uther die and leave him to be a boy-King?

She swept over to stand next to him, only vaguely taking interest in the courtiers that left at a waving of his hand. A pale hand clutched onto the back of the throne, and she looked down upon him with a mixture of hatred, love and resentment. He was a tyrant, why did she feel inclined to be so kind?

"You work yourself too hard, you need to visit other Kings to show your faith in alliances" she held her goblet and sipped in am almost bored manner, letting the weak wine barely hit the spot "I think it is high time Arthur found some experience in his future position. He will be a good King one day" she was sure he would make a fuss of her being so outspoken, or he would simply chuckle and wave her off. He was more unpredictable than he had been "A friend of mine in Brittany, Lady Briaca, gave birth to a son a week ago and I sent a messenger to give my congratulations and honours. I know it may seem like I sit in my bower all day and sit idle, but there isn't much I don't know about the goings on in this court" she observed the hall with sharp grey eyes, taking in the scents of the fire pit and the rushes she had walked on not minutes before.

"But I miss your presence, and I thought I would emerge from my suite, if not for a few hours" the hand on the back of the throne briefly touched his shoulder and then moved back again. She didn't like touching him, embracing him like a daughter. It made her miss her father, Gorlois. It made her miss her mother, and it reminded her that she was but an adoptive child in this place, not really of blood relation. She loved Arthur, loved Uther, loved Guinevere even, but it wasn't her home. She needed one of her own, whether it was with a husband and child or not. She didn't care, she just needed to be out from these suffocating walls "Who was that awful man ranting at you?" she chewed at her lip, her brow knitting.
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Uther Pendragon
Uther Pendragon

Mar 1 2011, 08:52 AM #4

Uther looked up at her as she stood near him, smiling softly. He had gotten lucky, seeing so little of himself in her, but there was always that edge to her eyes, that stubborn streak in the way she carried herself, that were not simply learned by being around him. Of course, that is how everyone understood it, that she was like his daughter, and acted like him, because he had been caring for her for so long, but of course they were all wrong. Uther knew, at least, that some of these traits had to be borne by blood. She carried the King’s genes in her, and there was no way that didn’t impact who she was, as far as he knew.

But then, he wasn’t exactly an expert.

He listened to her, his expression thoughtful. He drank from his goblet and considered her words, finding them puzzling at best.

“You think I work too hard, then? I do what I must for my Kingdom, when I must. There is no time to take a break. Indeed, there is nothing to take a break from. I am no more capable of stepping away from my duties as I am to stop breathing the air around me. Arthur will have his time soon enough, and will prove himself many times over before then, trust in that.” He sounded confident, and there was a strange look in his eye. Almost wistful.

He believed in his son. He knew Arthur was destined for something far greater than even he, Uther, had attained. The King had trained his son in every way he knew how, while praying silently each night that he retained more of his mother’s personality than his father’s glaring flaws. Arthur was the best parts of Uther and Igraine, and every time the young Prince did something surprising, daring, infuriating or reckless, Uther’s pride in him deepened. But he was no longer a child, despite how Uther treated him sometimes. He would have to come to terms with that eventually.

“Morgana, you isolate yourself too much. How can you be happy, twittering away with your correspondence and spying on the court?” He simplified what she had told him a bit too much, but he imagined the essence remained. He shook his head, barely noticing the touch to his shoulder, and grinned at her when she questioned about the warbler Uther had barely been listening to. “Did you not just say you knew almost all there is to know about this court? In any case, that man was of no consequence. Sometimes I think he is half mad, if not determined. He is pressing for Camelot to expand its walls, by force, though none of my court are fooled by the pretense of threat he says inhabits his targeted land. It is his own personal agenda that makes him so desperate.”

The King was perfectly oblivious to the irony of the statement, of course. Or if he wasn’t, he did a very good job of hiding it. He watched her for a moment, then drained the last from his goblet, moving to stand to go and refill it himself, since only he and Morgana remained in the throne room for now.
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Morgana le Fey
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Morgana le Fey
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Joined: Oct 4 2009, 01:16 PM

Mar 3 2011, 03:45 PM #5

"A King must be strong, Uther, but it doesn't mean you cannot take your own solitude, away from the mountainous responsibilities of being a ruler. I have heard of Kings going mad with all the work they force upon themselves. I'm not saying that you should sit idle, but riding out with me more or perhaps hunting with Arthur more might do...everything the world of good" she smiled pleasantly, trying to make it sound like she wasn't accusing him of neglecting them, or of being a bad father to Arthur. He was gushing now, but Morgana was sure that he wasn't allowing his son as much freedom as he should. He had locked him in his rooms, for God Sakes! A grown man sent to his chambers like a little boy, on more occasions than she could muster. Of course, it was also in her best interests to have Arthur on her good side too. Uther was strong, but Arthur didn't fly off the handle every few days or throw her in dungeons.

She hadn't forgiven any of the times he had shouted at her, bared his teeth like a dog or risen his hand in threat. He thought she had, but she hadn't.

She rolled her eyes "I said almost, not all. I tend to keep myself, my acquaintances and my Ladies away from the court on certain days. The older Dukes like to wander their eyes over my younger Ladies, and if they so much as touch one of them I will not be happy" she scowled deeply, eyeing him with a hint of glare in her eyes. Her stood and walked over to refill his goblet, and staring daggers at his back, she knocked back the remaining wine and held it close to her chest. How could you love someone so much, and still want snap their necks and rip their eyes out?

"We do not need to expand our walls. We have enough allies and enough forces. Brittany, Cornwall, some of Ireland, Northumbria...Saxons are good allies to have, as you well know. And France...some of France" she waved, an off hand gesture that was genuine. She didn't know much about Lothian and Orkney, or of King Lot.
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