But there was something else between them too, something unspoken and rarely shown that drew them together now.

Valiant:

Morgana glanced briefly towards where Arthur was taking his place at the end of the line. He had been insufferable for most of the week, boasting about how he was certain to win the tournament again and complaining at how he would be forced to escort Morgana to the feast on the last night of the proceedings. Despite his princely status, he was just like all the other knights of Camelot - vain and childish, too eager to try and score points. He was a good looking boy, that much was true… (pg. 42)

Morgana held held out a slender hand, Valiant kissed it gently, his eyes never leaving her own. “My Lady”. On the edge of her vision she could see Arthur glaring at her furiously. Good. It was about time he realized that he wasn’t the only swordsman in the kingdom (pg. 55)

She was still thinking about the mysterious knight from the western Isles when Arthur approached her. Morgana nodded over at where valiant was making small talk with some of her guardian’s advisors. “They all seem rather impressed by Knight Valiant” “They’re not the only ones” The tone in Arthur’s voice was unmistakable. Morgana turned, raising her eyebrows, glad of an opportunity to tease him. “What’s the matter, Arthur? Not jealous, are you?” Arthur looked her up and down, “I can’t see there’s anything to be jealous of”. With a smirk on his lips, he walked off to join some of his fellow knights. Morgana watched him go, her cheeks flushing with rage. Could Arthur be any more annoying? She doubted it. (pg. 56)

Morgana gave a gasp and Julian and Arthur stepped forward to present themselves to Uther. Arthur’s slim frame was dwarfed by the monster standing next to him. “You’re not worried, are you?” Asked Gwen, amused. Morgana realized that she was gripping her maidservant’s arm a little too tightly. Embarrassed now, she let go. “No”. (pg. 91)

Bowing to the King, Arthur turned to leave. The entire court was watching him silently as he made his way towards the door. It was the longest walk of his life. He could see Morgana staring at him. What must she think of him now? (pg. 132)


On the other side of the castle, in a high room that overlooked the courtyard, Morgana twisted and turned in her bed, her raven hair tousled and unruly, her features creased with distress. The nights were often a fearful time for Morgana, for nights brought dreams, and sometimes those dreams were bad ones. Gaius tried tried to help, with his potions and his poultices, but on most nights they were only a temporary relief, giving a few hours’ restful sleep before the visions started to encroach once more. In her mind Morgana could see the arena, hear the baying of the crowds, the clash of sharpened steel. Two men fought on the hard earth, each one resplendent in the regalia of battle. One of the men was unarmed, struggled to ward off the blows of his opponent. Morgana couldn’t see his face, but she knew his emblem only too well. Arthur. She knew his opponent too. Valiant. The knight’s face was twisted with anger and rage as he brought his sword crashing down again and again. The crowd screamed for blood. Morgana twisted in her sleep, desperate to wake up but unable to shake the vision from her mind. The fight became more violent, the screams of the crowd getting louder and louder. Valiant drove Arthur backwards. The prince’s face was contorted with pain and fear. He tripped, his foot turning in the dust and sending him crashing to the floor. Valiant loomed over Arthur, his face a mask of hatred. The sword swung high into the air. And thrust down, towards the breastplate which bore the crest of Pendragon…Morgana sat bolt upright, her hand grasping her chest. It was all she could do to prevent herself from crying out Arthur’s name. (153-154)

A sound from the courtyard made her start. Steel on stone. Climbing from her bed, she hurried to the window, fearful of what she might see. Far below her, a pale figure stood in the cold moonlight. Arthur. Morgana felt a rush of relief. Seeing him alive, seeing him standing proud and strong finally started to banish the vision of his prostrate body from her mind. As she watched, Arthur raised his sword, swinging it with expert precision. She had not known him to be so dedicated in his practice. He, too, must be having doubts about the fight he faced in the morning. Again and again he practiced the movements of thrust and parry, of attack and defence, his feet moving across the flagstones with the effortless ease of a dancer. Morgana could have watched him for hours. She had always been impressed by his dedication to his sword fighting. Even as a child there had been precision in his play fights and Morgana had always been proud of him for his skill. (pg. 153-154)

“Morgana?” A voice called softly from the doorway. Gwen. Morgana didn’t turn round. Soft footsteps crossed to her side. “I heard a noise. Are you all right?” Morgana was thankful for the sensitive nature of her maidservant. There had been many nights before when Gwen had calmed her mistress with her soft, soothing voice. “I had another dream” said Morgana, not taking her eyes from the elegant patterns that Arthur made in the courtyard. Gwen knew about her dreams, her nightmares. She had been her staunchest ally in her fight against the demons that haunted her sleep. Never once had Gwen made Morgana’s affliction the subject of idle chatter or whispered rumour. “What was it?” From the tone of her voice, Morgana suspected that she had already guessed something of the nature of the dream. “Arthur was unarmed. Valiant was standing over him with a sword…” Morgana couldn’t bring herself to describe the rest of her vision. Gwen was silent, watching with her as Arthur’s sword flashed in the moonlight. “What if Valiant is using magic?” Morgana wondered aloud. She remembered the anguish that had showed in Arthur’s face when he’d been humiliated in the courtroom. He would never have gone before his father if he hadn’t been certain that he was right. “Arthur wouldn’t lie about something like that” ”Neither would Merlin” Gwen said. Morgana turned to Gwen in helpless frustration. “Arthur won’t withdraw from the tournament, he’s too stubborn. For once in his life, why can’t he be a coward!” (pg. 155-156)

Morgana stood outside the door to Arthur’s quarters, unsure of what she was going to say to him. She had dismissed Guinevere but stayed up watching Arthur until he’d finished his moonlit sword practice. Only then had she retired to her bed once more. (pg. 169)

She pushed open the door of Arthur’s room. He was standing at the window, his back to the door, a servant attending to his armour. Silently Morgana crossed the room, motioning for the servant to leave. He bowed and hurried away. Morgana picked up a piece of armour from the table and started to tighten the straps around Arthur’s arm. Aware of a sudden lightness of touch, Arthur looked down at her in surprise. “Let me?” Morgana smiled at him shyly. Arthur nodded, watching Morgana as she quickly and efficiently tied the piece of armour in place. “I used to help my father put his armour on,” she explained, aware that the prince was not used to women knowing the ways of the knight. She worked in silence, aware of Arthur’s eyes on her as she fitted the remaining pieces of armour. Finally she handed him his helmet. “Thanks,” Arthur said as he took it from her. Morgana stared at him. He looked so noble, dressed in the finery of a knight of Camelot, but at the same time he looked so young, a boy dressed in his father’s armour, a boy playing at a game for men. For a moment the vision of his body lying in the dirt, Valiant’s sword raised over him, flashed into her mind and she nearly grabbed hold of him, ready to shake him for being so stupid. “Arthur…”she gasped. He looked at her expectantly. With a deep breath she controlled herself. “Be careful”. Arthur nodded. The faintest hint of a smile touched his lips. “See you at the feast” (pg. 170-171)

The two men came to a halt in front of the throne. Arthur could see Morgana watching with frightened eyes, Gwen at her side. He was glad that she had Guinevere. She was a good servant, a good friend; she would see Morgana through the dark times ahead. (pg. 173).

Morgana could barely bring herself to watch as the fight unfolded in front of her (pg. 174)

Some of the crowd rallied to Valiant’s side, shouting his name enthusiastically. Morgana cursed them inwardly. (pg. 180)

Morgana could hear Uther’s bellowing laughter from behind her as he applauded the spectacle. She felt a flush of anger. Sometimes the man could be little more than a savage. She watched, waiting to see what Arthur would do next. What happened made her blood run cold (pg. 180-181)

Morgana gripped Gwen’s arm in terror. Was this it? Was this the end that her dream had shown her, actually about to happen? In her mind she recalled the terrible moment when Valiant’s sword was held high over Arthur’s prone body, and now, here it was, replaying in front of her. (pg. 185)

The crowd cheered wildly. Morgana gave a gasp of relief. Her dream really was nothing more than a dream (pg. 185)

Arthur threw himself to the side as the snakes landed heavily in the dirt. “Arthur!” A voice rang out from the crowd. Arthur looked up. It was Morgana.  In a sweeping movement she darted forward and snatched up a sword from the belt of a visiting dignitary. Shifting her grip on the sword hilt, she stepped up onto one of the benches, balancing carefully and quickly judging the distance between her and Arthur. Drawing her arm back she hurled the sword into the arena with all her might. Arthur watched as the sword arced through the air. Time seemed to slow as the glittering blade tumbled end over end. Arthur concentrated, his eyes never leaving the blade, remembering every detail of the arena, the snakes, Valiant. Morgana had judged her throw perfectly. Arthur’s fist closed around the hilt of the tumbling sword and he span, arm outstretched, the blade slicing through the air. (pg. 189-190)

In front of Uther, Morgana and Gwen were cheering as loudly as the rest. Arthur bowed to them both, surprised to find himself glad that he would be the one escorting Morgana to the feast after all (pg. 192).

Guards pulled open the heavy double doors and, to tumultuous applause of all the guests, Arthur entered the great hall, his armour gleaming brightly in the candlelight. Beside him was Morgana, radiant and beautiful, her gown a shimmering cascade sweeping across the floor. Arm in arm the two of them walked slowly down the line of waiting knights, acknowledging the applause. (pg. 196)

Morgana took her seat at the head table, basking in Arthur’s reflected glory. There were times when she really did enjoy being the ward of the king.Uther was laughing and joking with the knights, in his element amongst the pomp and ceremony. Morgana leaned close to Arthur. “Has your father apologized for not believing you?” Arthur shook his head. “He’ll never apologize”. He changed the subject. “So, I hope you’re not disappointed Valiant’s not escorting you?” Morgana shook her head. “Turns out he wasn’t really champion material”. Arthur smiled. He had a nice smile, Morgana realized. In his finery, with the glow of success shining in his eyes, Arthur Pendragon looked every inch the well-loved prince, and every inch the king that he would one day be. Embarrassed by her steady gaze, Arthur looked away, reaching for a knife and skewering a piece of cold meat. “That was quite some tournament final” he said, changing the subject yet again. “Tell me about it” Morgana replied. “Besides, its not every day that a girl gets a chance to save her champion.” Arthur gave a snort. “I wouldn’t say I exactly needed saving.” He waved his knife airily. “I’m sure I would have thought of something”. Morgana stared at him in disbelief. “So, you’re too proud to admit that you were saved by a girl?” she asked. “Because I wasn’t,” said Arthur firmly. Morgana couldn’t believe it. The man really believed that he had won the tournament single-handed. “You know what?” she whispered angrily, “I wish Valiant was escorting me!” “Me too!” snapped Arthur. “Then I wouldn’t have to listen to you” “Fine!” “Fine!” Arthur threw his knife back onto the table and stormed off. Morgana watched him go in despair. He really was the most arrogant, stubborn, self-centered…(pg. 197-198)

“Can you believe Morgana?” complained Arthur angrily. “She says she saved me. She’s crazy! Like I needed any help!” Merlin struggled to suppress a smile. (pg. 199)

The Magic Begins:

Morgana was still smiling at Valiant as the next Knight moved forward to meet her - Arthur. The Prince was also watching Valiant, now chatting to a group of courtiers - but he wasn’t smiling. Morgana noticed his scowl, and was amused. “They all seem rather impressed by Knight Valiant,” she commented, hoping to rile him some more. Arthur looked her straight in the eye. “They’re not the only ones.” “What’s the matter Arthur?” said Morgana. “You’re not jealous are you?” “I can’t see there’s anything to be jealous of,” he replied sharply. Morgana flushed at the insult. One all. She turned to Gwen, standing behind her, as the Prince moved off. “Could Arthur be any more annoying? I do hope Knight Valiant wins the tournament”. Gwen looked uncertain. “You don’t really mean that,” she said. “Yes, I do” Morgana insisted, not wanting not wanting to admit even to herself that Arthur could get under her skin so much. (pg. 107).

The entire court of Camelot had been summoned. Arthur and Valiant stood before the king, watched by a host of knights and courtiers. Morgana was there with Gwen, both extremely curious to find out what Arthur had to say. (pg. 131).

The next morning Morgana woke from a terrible dream in which Arthur had been at Valiant’s mercy. Somehow it had all felt so real, and she was troubled. What if Valiant was using magic after all? Unknowingly echoing Merlin’s thoughts, she wished that Arthur would withdraw from the contest. For once in his life, why couldn’t he be a coward? She rose from her bad and Gwen dressed her. Then she made her way to Arthur’s chambers. She didn’t try to talk him out of fighting - it would be no use; she’d known him long enough to be sure of that - but carefully and calmly she helped the Prince to put on his armour, piece by piece, just being close to him, supporting him without words. They had been like brother and sister for years, since Uther had adopted Morgana after her father’s death. Like many siblings they bickered and fought a lot. But there was something else between them too, something unspoken and rarely shown that drew them together now. As Arthur turned to leave, Morgana knew she had to say something - but the right words just weren’t there. “Be careful,” was all she managed, and Arthur acknowledged it with a small smile. She knew he would do his best, she knew he would fight as bravely, and strongly and skillfully as ever - but she also knew it would do him no good if his opponent cheated. She felt hollow inside, wondering if they would ever be together like this again. As she met Arthur’s eyes, she knew he was thinking the same thing. But he would never say it. All he said was, “See you at the feast,” and then he headed off to meet Valiant. (pg. 148-150).

A skillful stroke from Arthur knocked off Valiant’s helmet. The knight, stunned, staggered back - but Arthur didn’t take advantage of the moment; he stepped back and removed his own helmet. The crowd applauded but Morgana cursed the Prince for his chivalry. (pg. 153-154).

The watching ladies screamed - all except Morgana. She might be a lady, but she had the heart of a warrior - and she was not going to let this happen. She grabbed a sword from the scabbard of a nobleman in front of her, raised it in the air, threw…and the Prince dived for the blade, caught it, swung it expertly…(pg 156)

Arthur walked into the banqueting hall, arm in arm with Morgana, and nodded graciously to the crowd. “Has your father apologized yet for not believing you?” Morgana whispered as they made their way down between the tables. Arthur shrugged. “He’ll never apologize.” Then he smiled slightly. “I hope you’re not disappointed that Valiant’s not escorting you…?” “Turns out he wasn’t really Champion material!” she smiled. “Actually, its not every day a girl gets to save a Prince.” “I wouldn’t say I exactly needed saving,” he protested. “I’m sure I would’ve thought of something…” Morgana looked at him in disbelief. “So you’re too proud to admit that you were saved by a girl?” “Because I wasn’t!” “You know what, I wish Valiant was escorting me!” “Me too - then I wouldn’t have to listen to you.” “Fine.” Morgana pulled her arm away from Arthur and they glared at each other. Normal service had been resumed. Merlin was surprised to see Arthur leave Morgana and head his way - but he was pleased too. Perhaps somehow Arthur had worked out that it was Merlin who had saved him! His hopes were soon dashed. “Can you believe Morgana? She says she saved me. Like I needed any help.” (pg. 158)