Disclaimer: All characters are the property of BBC. I also own to Henry R. Haggard 'she' novel. Read and you'll understand...
I
« No! What have you done! You had promised!… »
A bitter laugh escaped Morgause.
« Morgana… Morgana… You can not regret him. He betrayed you. He despises your kind. He let you suffer. Why wasting your tears…
-- I will kill you for that. »
Her sister laughed harder and left her kneeling near the inanimate body of Arthur. Morgana touched his face, lightly. His skin was warm under her palm, and a little moist from the fight. Not that he had stood a chance against Morgause powers. She had him crush on the wall in a blink. Morgana caressed his golden hair. Why had he come here, alone? He stirred.
« Arthur… »
He opened his eyes slowly, a little groggy. Instantly, he reached for his sword. She backed off, her heart breaking again. She moved back until she felt the hard table behind her. She curled there, as if the solid furniture could protect her against his hatred.
Arthur looked around him. The beautiful blond was gone. An incredible pain pierced his flank when he stood up. He toddled before steadying himself and cast a glance toward the opened door. Seeing no one, he blew out a quick breath. The throb was excruciating. He held out his hand:
« Come on. Let's get out of here. »
Morgana stared at him and his offered hand, confused. His face was tense, all senses in alter. He battled again the black veil blurring his vision. He grabbed her arm, urging her up.
« Morgana…
-- You don't hate me…
-- What? No! Come on now, we must go. »
His sword was heavier by the minute. Each movement shortened his breathing. He resisted when she put her arm around his shoulder to support him. Cold sweat damped his back. Leaning on her was the only option to walk. He couldn't repress a groan of pain when they took a step, then another. The fire burning his side was unbearable.
« Morgana… »
*
Eyes closed, he tried to chase the last mist of feverish sleep. Reality hit him. His rescue mission had failed miserably. Testing his strength, he tried to stand. The sting in his side became agonizing. He lied back down, breathing hard.
The door opened and Morgana entered the room. Her sight was both a relief and painful. She was so pale! The energy that used to brighten her had faded somehow. She looked tired and sad. He grasped her wrist, not so gently. The fear in her stare on him was torture. He loosened his grip a bit. Morgana pulled her hand away, only to press it on his wound. Arthur jerked.
« Stand still. »
Her eyes turned gold. Then he saw a glowing silver mist flew from her opened hand, and dissolved into his body. Her warm touch became icy-cold. His chest was burning. A piercing pain, like a white-hot blade in his flank made him groaned. He clenched a jaw, growling her name. And suddenly, the abominable plain was gone. Her touch on his skin was hot again. The warm there was nicely comforting. Her stare was back to its emerald shade, maybe a little greener. He took her hand.
« Morgana… »
She refused to meet his stare, and tried to pull away. He held tight.
« Morgana, look at me… »
Arthur forced her head up, his free hand gently cup under her chin. Tears were threatening. He could tell she was scared. She escaped his touch, avoiding his gaze again. She was shaking.
« I'm sorry… I'm so sorry… She had promised not to hurt you… Never to hurt you… I'm sorry, please don't hate me! »
Abashed by her words, the same words than before, Arthur forced a smile into his voice.
« Oh, well, what would be life without a few broken ribs now and then? »
Her shoulders relaxed a little.
« So I take it Lancelot didn't get here first, for once? »
She laughed, and finally allowed her eyes into his. The spirit his joke had raised started to fad again. He reached for her.
« I'll kill her… I'll find a way for us to escape… »
He wanted to hold her, but she pushed him away.
« Arthur I can't leave.
-- Of course you do.
-- No, you don't understand…
-- Morgana…
-- Arthur, listen to me! I can not leave. If I leave, I'll die. »