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Description
Morgan le Fay
Part 1: The High Queen’s Daughter
Chapter 1
Strange
“How is Morgan” asked Vivienne, tearing a piece off her bread. Her sister, Ygrain, hesitantly sighs, running a finger on the rim of her golden cup. She has been High Queen for twelve years, but has never felt comfortable with the title.
“Morgan is…strange.”
Vivienne raises her eyebrows in an impertinent way that makes Ygrain want to slap her…it is the expression that reminds her always that Vivienne is her elder and Lady of the Lake. It is the expression that always makes her feel like a little girl.
“How so?” the older woman asks in a voice that very clearly states she’s known this for a while.
Ygrain breaks down.
“Oh, Vivienne! Strange doesn’t even begin to cover it! She’s outwitted and debated every advanced scholarly tutor we’ve sent her since she was 9! She knows French, Spanish, Latin, Greek… and she can argue so excellently it drives them absolutely mad! She takes every opportunity to make them look stupid. She takes every opportunity to make everyone look stupid, especially the priests. And she does all this effortlessly. She now teaches her many tutors instead of them teaching her. Already she has become the wittiest person at court, God knows, perhaps in Britain, and she’s only thirteen. I simply don’t know what to do with her.”
Both women feel like Ygrain’s ranting echoes around the stone walls of the private dining room. Ygrain’s eyes widen. “Oh no, she probably heard me. She hears me when I’m at the other end of the Great Hall…one of her many peculiar talents.”
Vivienne takes this in, then tilts her head and asks, “Have you and Uther discussed what should be done with her?”
Ygrain visibly softens a little at the mention of her loving husband, the High King, but is still somewhat rigid by the discussion of her exasperating daughter.
“Of course. He suggested sending her to a nunnery, but I’m fairly certain they’d send her away within a month. Impudence paired with Morgan’s ability to always sound right are the perfect ingredients for disaster. I also don’t wish to send her because I don’ think she would ever forgive me…Even Uther agreed it would not be a wise choice.”
“He hates her still?” Vivienne is fairly certain she knows this answer, but still wonders whether or not Uther still holds a grudge over Morgaine’s parentage.
Ygrain gives a bitter laugh. “Of course he does. She is the child of the man who is known as traitor to the High King. Many hate her, though they are not open about it, since it is clear to anyone who watches that she is still my sweetheart, despite her father who caused me so much grief… Also, they must have at least a wary respect, since she is the only heir they know of.”
The silence that follows is filled from the knowledge of both that there is another heir, but he is hidden from the power-thirsty royal family. Ygrain and Uther know he is under the care of their wise friend, the druid Merlin, but they cannot help worrying about him. Vivienne knows, though, that he must be trained and hidden, for the good of Britain and his safety.
“Was there anything else you considered?”
“Well, marriage would be another obvious option. She’s old enough to be betrothed, at least, if not married. And she’s certainly beautiful enough…”
“Is she? I have not seen her since the day of her birth, and when I went to visit her today, a servant came out and said I could not disturb the ‘Lady Morgan’ as she was reading.”
Ygrain giggles. “Yes, that sounds exactly like Morgan. And yes, she is.” Her eyes shine with the adoration of a mother who loves her child. “She’s a slip of a maiden, with long legs, a long neck, and long, elegant fingers. Her skin is like the very moonlight, her hair’s liquid night, and the eyes, my God, the EYES, there is nothing on this earth quite like them. Not only are they a stunning emerald-green, but they look like they could scorch the depths of your very soul.”
Vivienne smirks. “You sound like a suitor.”
“Oh, she has plenty of those, lads tripping over their feet for her, writing poems and songs and ballads.”
Ygrain glows with pride.
“So, she has beauty, grace, and intelligence beyond measure, it seems… But?”
Ygrain bites her rosebud mouth.
“But I also do not want her to marry to someone that is not her equal in all things. I think it would make her immensely unhappy-no; in fact, she’s so headstrong, I think she would run away if we arranged a marriage for her to a man she didn’t love. She’d honestly rather live the woods if she couldn’t be free.”
They both contemplate this dynamic, mysterious, seemingly impossible girl-Ygrain with pride at how amazing her daughter is, and a slight touch of fear, Vivienne with pure admiration and consideration.
“As you know, Uther gave me your late husband’s castle Tintagel when I gave him the blessing of Avalon. It is in the land of Cornwall, is it not?”
The younger woman nods distractedly, her mind still on Morgan and how she shall react to her aunt.
“A priestess I trust is currently staying there and watching it, but I believe the place is destined for Morgan. She’d truly thrive there.”
Ygrain immediately snaps back to attention at this. “Morgaine? Ruler of Cornwall?” she asks in a faint voice.
“What, you think you cannot handle it?”
The High Queen of Britain shakes her head, and her fiery hair swings around. “She can definitely handle it, it’s just that I can’t even begin to imagine what she’ll accomplish there…”
Their meal of bread and cheese has been finished, and the cups of wine are still half-full. Vivienne rises.
“I suppose I should meet this girl-after all you’ve told me of her, my expectations for Morgan are high.”
Ygrain, too, rises. “They will be met,” she confirms assuredly.

Description
Morgan le Fay
Part 1: The High Queen’s Daughter
Chapter 1
Strange
“How is Morgan” asked Vivienne, tearing a piece off her bread. Her sister, Ygrain, hesitantly sighs, running a finger on the rim of her golden cup. She has been High Queen for twelve years, but has never felt comfortable with the title.
“Morgan is…strange.”
Vivienne raises her eyebrows in an impertinent way that makes Ygrain want to slap her…it is the expression that reminds her always that Vivienne is her elder and Lady of the Lake. It is the expression that always makes her feel like a little girl.
“How so?” the older woman asks in a voice that very clearly states she’s known this for a while.
Ygrain breaks down.
“Oh, Vivienne! Strange doesn’t even begin to cover it! She’s outwitted and debated every advanced scholarly tutor we’ve sent her since she was 9! She knows French, Spanish, Latin, Greek… and she can argue so excellently it drives them absolutely mad! She takes every opportunity to make them look stupid. She takes every opportunity to make everyone look stupid, especially the priests. And she does all this effortlessly. She now teaches her many tutors instead of them teaching her. Already she has become the wittiest person at court, God knows, perhaps in Britain, and she’s only thirteen. I simply don’t know what to do with her.”
Both women feel like Ygrain’s ranting echoes around the stone walls of the private dining room. Ygrain’s eyes widen. “Oh no, she probably heard me. She hears me when I’m at the other end of the Great Hall…one of her many peculiar talents.”
Vivienne takes this in, then tilts her head and asks, “Have you and Uther discussed what should be done with her?”
Ygrain visibly softens a little at the mention of her loving husband, the High King, but is still somewhat rigid by the discussion of her exasperating daughter.
“Of course. He suggested sending her to a nunnery, but I’m fairly certain they’d send her away within a month. Impudence paired with Morgan’s ability to always sound right are the perfect ingredients for disaster. I also don’t wish to send her because I don’ think she would ever forgive me…Even Uther agreed it would not be a wise choice.”
“He hates her still?” Vivienne is fairly certain she knows this answer, but still wonders whether or not Uther still holds a grudge over Morgaine’s parentage.
Ygrain gives a bitter laugh. “Of course he does. She is the child of the man who is known as traitor to the High King. Many hate her, though they are not open about it, since it is clear to anyone who watches that she is still my sweetheart, despite her father who caused me so much grief… Also, they must have at least a wary respect, since she is the only heir they know of.”
The silence that follows is filled from the knowledge of both that there is another heir, but he is hidden from the power-thirsty royal family. Ygrain and Uther know he is under the care of their wise friend, the druid Merlin, but they cannot help worrying about him. Vivienne knows, though, that he must be trained and hidden, for the good of Britain and his safety.
“Was there anything else you considered?”
“Well, marriage would be another obvious option. She’s old enough to be betrothed, at least, if not married. And she’s certainly beautiful enough…”
“Is she? I have not seen her since the day of her birth, and when I went to visit her today, a servant came out and said I could not disturb the ‘Lady Morgan’ as she was reading.”
Ygrain giggles. “Yes, that sounds exactly like Morgan. And yes, she is.” Her eyes shine with the adoration of a mother who loves her child. “She’s a slip of a maiden, with long legs, a long neck, and long, elegant fingers. Her skin is like the very moonlight, her hair’s liquid night, and the eyes, my God, the EYES, there is nothing on this earth quite like them. Not only are they a stunning emerald-green, but they look like they could scorch the depths of your very soul.”
Vivienne smirks. “You sound like a suitor.”
“Oh, she has plenty of those, lads tripping over their feet for her, writing poems and songs and ballads.”
Ygrain glows with pride.
“So, she has beauty, grace, and intelligence beyond measure, it seems… But?”
Ygrain bites her rosebud mouth.
“But I also do not want her to marry to someone that is not her equal in all things. I think it would make her immensely unhappy-no; in fact, she’s so headstrong, I think she would run away if we arranged a marriage for her to a man she didn’t love. She’d honestly rather live the woods if she couldn’t be free.”
They both contemplate this dynamic, mysterious, seemingly impossible girl-Ygrain with pride at how amazing her daughter is, and a slight touch of fear, Vivienne with pure admiration and consideration.
“As you know, Uther gave me your late husband’s castle Tintagel when I gave him the blessing of Avalon. It is in the land of Cornwall, is it not?”
The younger woman nods distractedly, her mind still on Morgan and how she shall react to her aunt.
“A priestess I trust is currently staying there and watching it, but I believe the place is destined for Morgan. She’d truly thrive there.”
Ygrain immediately snaps back to attention at this. “Morgaine? Ruler of Cornwall?” she asks in a faint voice.
“What, you think you cannot handle it?”
The High Queen of Britain shakes her head, and her fiery hair swings around. “She can definitely handle it, it’s just that I can’t even begin to imagine what she’ll accomplish there…”
Their meal of bread and cheese has been finished, and the cups of wine are still half-full. Vivienne rises.
“I suppose I should meet this girl-after all you’ve told me of her, my expectations for Morgan are high.”
Ygrain, too, rises. “They will be met,” she confirms assuredly.