Morgana wanders about in the lower town of Cambria, browsing the merchant stores with Gwen and Lancelot by her side as she tries to take her mind off of her problems. Morgana had wanted nothing more than to escape the walls of the castle, feeling suffocated inside by the nerve wracking presence of the foreign king seemingly around every corner. They've only been in the kingdom for a night and yet she already feels as though the man knows all her secrets, knows exactly what to say to make the words disappear from her throat. She couldn't stand it, she couldn't stand being in that castle especially when Arthur has run off to who knows where right after breakfast. 

With a sigh Morgana picks up a fine cloth from one of the stands, fingering the fabric in curiosity as she stares at her reflection in the mirror, wondering how it would look as a dress. There's going to be a feast soon when the Tournament starts in a weeks time. Perhaps she can have a dress tailored with the cloth? She turns, about to ask Gwen for her opinion only to spot her at a flower stand next to Lancelot, the two smiling and giggling to each other as the latter points to a bouquet. Seeing the two Morgana can't stop the small quirk of her lips. Though she is a little sad that she's losing her best friends attention at least Gwen is happy and that's all she can ever really ask for.

Morgana looks away from the pair, deciding to give them some privacy as she skirts to another nearby stand. She flips through a few of the cloths before she feels an arm being slung around her shoulder, tugging her away from the stand. She frowns, turning around to meet the face of a man with a devilish smirk across his lips. 

"Hello there," he says, sending her a wink that sends a shiver down her spine. 

"Um... good day to you," she says nervously, carefully removing herself from his grasp. Now that she has a proper look at him she finds the man dressed in armour with a green cape around his shoulders. Even without the armour she can tell by his attitude that this man is a knight, clearly not the chivalrous kind, but rather the kind that felt they had a right to everything because they're one of the king's men. She had known these types of knights before, Arthur had been one after all. 

The intruding knight tries to snuggle up closer to her again, as though he found her avoidance of him to be a challenge rather than rejection. "I've never seen you around before. How about I take you around the town?" the man says with a smile. 

Morgana flashes her own smile back, trying to be as kind as she can. "No, it's quite alright. I have a guide."

The knight frowns, glancing around as he searches for the aforementioned guide. "Well, he must not be a very good guide to leave such a lovely lady alone on her own."

Morgana tries to shove him gently away, despite knowing that she could probably beat him easily, however she's in a foreign kingdom and it's best for her to refrain from making a scene. "I'm sorry, but I have to decline. I wish you luck on your endeavours." As she turns to go the man grasps her wrist, clearly not liking 'no' for an answer. 

"I am a knight and you shall listen to what I say," he demands, a sneer on his face now as the mask of false honour falls away. 

Morgana just returns the glare, prepared to defend herself when suddenly another hand comes out from the bustling crowd, grabbing the hand of the knight by his wrist. A young man with curly brown hair and a tattoo of a raven on his collar steps out from the crowd, baring down on the knight with a look that promises much more than a simple broken wrist. The newcomer sends Morgana a smile and a slight bow, "Hello, m'lady. The names Mordred. Is this man bothering you?" He says as he squeezes hard on the knight's wrist, not relenting until the man lets go and turns to glare at the boy. 

"I hope you have a good excuse for your actions," the man says, glaring, "Now tell me what you're doing." 

The brunette tilts his head to the side, as though a little amazed at the question. Whether that amazement comes from the simple stupidity of the question or something else Morgana will never know. "I would think a knight would know best of all that you should never treat a lady in such a crude manner," Mordred replies, looking to Morgana with a smile again, "even if that knight is one of the lowest in the flock."

The knight seethes at the boy's words, pulling a fist back in preparation for a strike. Even though Morgana doesn't doubt that the boy can defend himself she still finds her instinct acting first at the sight of a threat. She reaches out, grabbing the man's arm and quickly throws him down on the ground, much to his surprise. Mordred looks down at the fallen knight, an amused smirk on his face. "Well, it seems my aid wasn't needed," he says as the man starts to scramble to his feet. Mordred smiles at Morgana and she can't help but return the gesture. 

"I appreciate you coming to help," she says, though she starts to feel a little uncomfortable as the crowd around them turns to look in their direction. A few point at them while more guards start to approach, curious about the source of the commotion. She glances around, wondering if there's anywhere she can run when Mordred reaches out to grasp her hand.

"This way," he says, gently tugging on her arm to follow as he pulls her into the crowd before the guards are able to catch a proper look at either of them. They barrel through the streets, laughing to themselves as they look back to see the knight from early flapping his arms while trying to describe his 'attackers' to his fellow guards. 

Neither of them stop running until they reach a tavern and at first Morgana tries to pull her fellow accomplice to a stop when she sees the 'closed' sign hanging on the door. However, she hardly gets the chance as Mordred bursts in, disregarding the sign entirely. He's still laughing as they dash inside, shutting the door behind them with a snicker. He looks to the front of the tavern and gives the occupants a wave. "Good morning, Merlin," he says cheerily. 

The one Morgana assumes to be Merlin sighs, eyeing the both of them as he takes a drink from a goblet. "Mordred," he says in greeting, sending the boy a nod, "I thought I told you not to burst in here unannounced."

Mordred just smiles as he strolls in, clearly feeling at home in the little tavern. "I'm sorry, but I have a reason this time."

Merlin just rolls his eyes before turning his attention to Morgana, giving her a welcoming smile. Before he's able to say anything another voice chimes in. "Morgana?" the voice calls, making Morgana jump in her spot because she recognizes that voice. When she moves to take a closer look she finds Arthur standing at the front of the bar with Gwaine seated beside him and the tavern owner Merlin standing in between them. She stares at them both, a little wide eyed at first before finally managing to recompose herself. 

"Arthur? What are you doing here?" she asks, moving towards the front counter. 

"Picking up Gwaine after he was knocked unconscious in a bar fight," he says as though it's a common occurrence, which it is. "And you're here because...?" he glances towards Mordred more than a little suspiciously. 

"A fight," she says with a smile, making Arthur immediately tense up with worry. 

He pushes off from the counter, moving towards her in a few quick strides. "Are you alright?" he asks, leaning in to take a good look at her which only makes her roll her eyes at him before pushing the prince away. 

"I'm fine. Mordred here came to my rescue," she says, sending the boy a thankful smile.

Mordred just shifts a little in his spot, uncomfortable with the praise. "Not that you really needed my help," he says with a shrug and a smirk.

Morgana sends him a sweet smile before looking towards the tavern owner. The first thing she notices is the black snake coiled around his neck. Aside from the animal, the mark looks similar to the one on Mordred. Was this a popular fashion choice in Cambria? Or something else? Before she gets the chance to ask Arthur leans in, whispering into her ear. "I thought I told you not to cause a scene?" he says, brows furrowed in both worry and slight anger. 

Morgana glances over to the counter, seeing Gwaine, Merlin, and Mordred now engaged in some conversation, then turns back to Arthur. "I know. I'm sorry, but it was hardly my fault," she replies. 

Arthur sighs, backing away as he stares at something over her shoulder. It's not until he looks away that she realizes he was looking through the window at the arena in the distance. "I'm just glad you're alright."

She smiles at him, reaching up to smooth down mussed hair. "I'm fine. Besides you look like you've been in a fight yourself," she says with a chuckle. 

"He was!" Gwaine shouts over to her, grinning the most amused grin she's ever seen the man have on his face. "And he lost!" 

Arthur turns on Gwaine, clearly about to tear his tongue out as Morgana sends the prince a teasing smirk. "Oh? So someone finally managed to put him in his place. Who was it?" she asks, not only trying to tease the prince but also because she's genuinely interested. No matter how much she likes to poke fun at the idea, no one can deny that Arthur is an amazing swordsman. Someone who can beat him is a force to be reckoned with. 

Gwaine points over his shoulder at Merlin, who's smirking devilishly at the prince who's currently holding the knight in a strangle hold. "Now, now," the boy says, prying the arm off the poor knight, "there's no shame for a prince to lose to a bartender."

Arthur frowns at him, dropping Gwaine before placing both hands on the bar counter and leaning across the table until their faces are only inches apart. Despite the jab, which Morgana had expected Arthur to throw a fit over, the prince smiles at the boy. He smiles an open smile, one that seems to show everything. It's a smile that she's only ever really seen directed at her and the sight of the usually pompous prince grinning at a common peasant as though he were his equal amazes her more than anything that has happened that day. She wonders if Arthur even realizes himself how much he's smiling.

"I told you already. Next time, I'll win," Arthur says, voice challenging.

Merlin returns the look, a smirk on his face as he raises an eyebrow. "I'll be right here whenever you're ready."

The two stare each other down, clearly forgetting the others around them as they start to have a  competition right then and there. Morgana sighs, shaking her head at the pair before putting a hand on either of their chests and pushing them apart. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I need to return to the market to find Gwen and Lancelot. I'm sure they're wondering where I've wandered off to," she says, looking towards Arthur.

The prince, a little reluctant to go, pulls back. He gives Merlin a look as though to say 'we'll continue this later' before turning towards the door. "Alright, Gwaine and I'll escort you. I don't want you getting into another fight," he says, gesturing towards Gwaine.

The knight gives Merlin a nod before leaping off his seat, heading towards the door with a slight skip in his step. "I'll lead you back. I was the one who dragged you off," Mordred says, looking a little embarrassed before turning to follow.

"Um..." Merlin says from behind the counter, making them all turn to look at him as he holds up a piece of parchment, "your royal pratness, I think you're forgetting something."

Arthur frowns at his words. "I don't know what that is."

Merlin rolls his eyes at the prince. "The bill? Did you think this was all free?"

------

The next time Morgana meets Mordred she's out in the town once again. This time, however, she's alone in the streets as she wanders aimlessly with no particular destination in mind. As much as she despises the place she has to admit that Cambria is beautiful, though beautiful only on the outside. 

She knows she shouldn't be out and about alone in the town, especially after what happened yesterday. Despite the previous days incident however, she still found herself sneaking out the castle on her own, not wanting to stay within its confined walls for much longer. She would have brought someone with her like Lancelot, Leon, or even Gwaine would have sufficed, but they had all gone out to the training field together early in the morning and to her knowledge are still there now. Arthur, on the other hand, has once again disappeared after breakfast. Odd of him, considering the fact that he's usually training in the mornings. 

Morgana makes it about half way through the town when a familiar face smiles at her from amidst the crowd, moving towards her as he waves in her direction. "Morgana!" Mordred calls cheerily, coming to walk along side her, "are you alone again?" 

Morgana smiles at the boy, happy to see him. She was just starting to feel bored all alone. "I'm afraid so. Couldn't find anyone to accompany me," she says with a slight pout. 

"Well," Mordred says with a grin and a bow, "allow me to accompany you."

Mordred proceeds to take her around the town, pointing out the most beautiful sights or the best places to find the freshest fruit. Despite his haphazard way of guiding her through Cambria she finds herself enjoying every moment of it. They zip through the streets together without a care in the world, heading from one end of the town back to the other without much of a destination in mind. It's not until they come close to the arena that her calm day takes a turn for the worst. 

Mordred had just stopped in front of the gates of the arena, staring up at the structure with a look of displeasure in his eyes while Morgana comes to a stop beside him. A thousand things seem to run through his mind at that moment, a thousand things that Morgana may never understand as she stares at him from her spot beside him. Seeing the shift in the mood, she pulls on a gloved hand, pointing towards a small flower shop in the opposite direction. "Why don't we take a look over there?" she asks, a small smile on her face as she begins to pull him away, watching as the mist leaves his eyes and a smile returns. 

He opens his mouth to answer, however, just before any words can come out a loud call echoes around the plaza. "There! The sorcerer!" 

The word 'sorcerer' immediately sends Morgana over the edge. Her breathing quickens and her head snaps in the direction of the voice, wondering who could have found her out, who could have discovered what she is. She hadn't dared to use her magic at all while she's been here. Had she? Did something slip while she wasn't looking? Instinctively, she let's go of Mordred's hand, backing away from the source of the voice with her face pale and her hands shaking. Mordred watches her stumble backwards, a hurt expression on his face as she staggers away and for a moment there seems to be a hint of something else in his eyes. Something like anger. Pointed in her direction. 

When the guards finally descend upon them she's taken by surprise because instead of grabbing her they move to grab Mordred. The knights wrestle him towards the ground, some using both arms to pin him down while others brandish whips that snap in his direction. She can hear him growl at them, struggling against the grip of the five men who, with strength in numbers, easily overpower him. Then, within only a brief second, she catches his eyes flash gold, a brilliant gold that makes her own powers thrum inside her. She watches how the ground begins to tremble a little around him, how the pebbles start to rise above the Earth as though they're coming to life and the sheer power makes her gape in awe, wanting to see more, to know more. However, almost as quickly as it had started, the whip comes down upon his back, striking him until the gold fades away and the rocks fall to the ground, life drained from its system. 

Despite the scene before her the first thing she does is let out a breath of relief. They hadn't been after her. However, within the following second shame weighs down on her, shame and anger. She takes a step forward, keeping her expression level as she looks the knights all in the eye. "Please, stand down," she says, mimicking Uther's commanding voice, "this man has done no one any harm."

The knight with the whip stops, turning towards her with a puzzled look. "My lady," he says with a slight bow, "I'm afraid you are mistaken. We have received a complaint from one of our own that this sorcerer had assaulted him."

At first Morgana wants to say he's wrong, that Mordred would never hurt anyone when she remembers the knight from the previous day. That little coward and snitched. "That knight had been harassing me. Mordred merely came to my aid. It was an act of defence."

The knight presses a little harder down on Mordred, making the boy groan with pain as he turns to look up at Morgana, the hurt and anger gone from his eyes now as he looks at her. "I'm afraid that does not change anything," the knight says with a shake of his head, "Sorcerer's do not have the same rights as you or I. They are forbidden from harming anyone, whether it be for self defence or not. Any sorcerer who does not obey shall be punished severely. The sorcerer should know that."

The knight doesn't wait for her response. Instead he gestures with a hand to his fellow knights, ordering them to hoist Mordred up to his feet as they drag him off towards the arena. Morgana takes a step forward, wanting to chase after him when a quick look from Mordred leaves her frozen in place. His eyes pierce into her, giving her a warning, an order to stay back and leave him be. She balls her hands into fists at her sides as she watches them pull the boy away, watches them drag him into the arena where she's not even sure what they'll do. Taking him in to fight would be the most likely option. 

Without wasting another second Morgana turns towards the castle, sprinting through the crowd as fast as she can in a dress. If the knights refuse to let him go, then she'll plead with the man in charge. 

It takes awhile, but after much questioning of the servants Morgana manages to track down the King of Cambria. Morgana bursts through the door to the king's chambers, not bothering to knock or be invited in as she strolls inside. The room is about the size of Uther's chambers and with just as much extravagance. The furniture is all imported from elsewhere, making the room appear almost foreign in the Cambrian castle. Instead of the red sheets that Morgana had grown so accustomed to seeing in Camelot she finds Alden's room covered in a forest green which mixes well with the wooden furniture. As Morgana walks further into the room she finds the man  sitting quietly in a chair, reading a book with a candle beside him. He sits up a little straighter at her entrance, turning to meet her stare with skeptical eyes before his face turns into a smile. "Morgana!" he says, setting the book down on a nearby table, "how are you? Did you need something?"

"Your guards arrested a young man not an hour ago," she says, "I have come to plead for his innocence."

Alden leans back now in his seat, looking up at her peculiarly. He doesn't reply, simply waiting for her to continue. 

"One of your knights harassed me in the market and this young man came to my aid. He does not deserve the punishment that he is about to receive. Please, tell your men to let him go."

Alden shifts a little in his seat, tapping at his cheek as his eyes skim over Morgana's face, as though searching for some lie in her words. "Who is this... young man?" Alden asks, eyes challenging.

"His name is Mordred."

"Ah, Mordred!" the king says with a laugh, catching Morgana by surprise at his words. Did the king know him? Hope starts to well up inside her at the prospect. If the king knows who Mordred is then he may listen to her request. "That boy... always been the troublemaker. I need to tell Philip to discipline him properly. I don't want any more incidents to happen," the king mutters to himself as he gets up from his chair, walking over to the desk and scribbling a quick letter onto a piece of parchment. 

"My lord?" Morgana asks timidly, watching as the king stuffs the letter into his pocket, "About Mordred..."

"Ah, yes," Alden says, patting her on the shoulder, "I'm afraid your appeal has no merit with his kind."

Morgana takes a moment to stare at him, both confused and angered at his words, "What do you mean his kind?" she demands, pushing his hand away. "He is a person like the rest of us is he not?"

Alden smiles at her words, his eyes dancing with amusement at her ignorance to the world. "I think you misunderstand something, my dear. He is no person. He's a sorcerer. A warlock!" The king laughs, as though it were funny to even say the word 'person' and 'sorcerer' together. "He doesn't have any rights. If the knights say he was misbehaving than he'll be punished for it. He should have known the rules."

Morgana has to suppress the magic that flares within her. She clenches her hands at her sides, waiting for the anger to subside, but it doesn't. It stays within her, locked away in a bottle that nears its breaking point, a bottle that holds on only so it can increase the casualties of those nearby when it finally explodes. She grits her teeth as she stares at the king and his cruel smile, his winning expression that seems to see exactly what she feels. "You nor your knights have proof that he is a sorcerer!" she says, trying to keep her voice level, "how can you punish a man with no evidence?"

Alden chuckles at her words, "They're all registered, names written down and stored away in the archives. I can simply pull out the list to confirm it. Do not doubt me, Morgana. I know very sorcerer who steps foot in this kingdom. Every. Single. One." Again the king reaches out, patting her on the shoulder. "Sorcerer's do not have rights here," Alden says, a teasing lilt in his voice, as he looks her up and down, watching her shake. "But that shouldn't concern you, now should it?"

The king eyes her skeptically, watching every small movement, every small twitch that would give her away. Morgana tries for a smile, knowing that even with this the king wouldn't be fooled. He was a man of observation, one that could catch the magic in someone who doesn't even know they had it. She sees the look in his eyes as he walks away from her, that look of triumph and confirmation as though he had just solved the greatest mystery of all the lands. "I do hope you'll enjoy the Tournament, my dear," he says, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he opens the door, "I'll be sure to save you one of the best spots. One right in the centre of all the action."