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[witchy-rebel.livejournal.com]

Morgan is curled up by the fire, looking pale and listless. She absently stroking Arianrhod, but doesn't really seem to be paying much attention to anything around her.

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[witchy-rebel.livejournal.com]

There is silence for a moment.

"Hurts more then dying. More long-term. Fall in love, give everything up, then he turns around and throws you out. What if, what if...think of what ifs and you go mad."

She resettles herself, pulling the blanket more around her.

"What if, what if...better not to think. Ask in the begining and then accept afterwards, if you can. Not scared of Barty, like I was of Arthur and Urien. Not in love with me, just in like. And...we both know that some point we both leave and do other things. So, for now we just enjoy each other's company. Everything clear at the outset, no months of hiding and lying and evasion. Makes it all uncertain, and you start saying 'what if'."

[the_lioness]

*Blinking back tears, Alanna shakes her head as if trying to forget what was just said.*

I don't know that I'm built that way, Morgan. But you're right. It's better to know sooner rather than later. Or just...

It might minimize the hurt.

*She swallows, not entirely sure what she's saying. What if?

What if I'd done what Father wanted? Would he have loved me? What if I'd saved Francis? What if I'd let Roger live the first time? What if I'd said yes to Jon? What if I'd stayed at Court? Would Thom still be alive?

What if I'd just swallowed my pride and told Adam the truth?

All the second guessing in the world won't change what has happened, and who she is. She nods, blowing out a breath.*

Some risks are worth taking, I suppose. Then you just hope you've enough people left who care and are willing to help you pick up the pieces.

[witchy-rebel.livejournal.com]

"No one can." Her expression is neutral, a court mask.

"No one can pick up the pieces. Just you. And if you aren't strong enough, you go mad."

Pause.

"I need to go now."

[the_lioness]

Just you.

*Alone. Mad. A tiny puff of air crosses her lips, and Alanna shakes her head.*

No, Morgan. I'll leave you be. I'm sorry I upset you further.

*She stands, brushing her breeches off.*

Try to eat something? Please? *After staring at her for a moment, she beats a hasty retreat, racing for the door and fresh air.*