Title: Rivalry Revisited
Character/s: Morgana, Arthur
Summary: Morgana rants over Arthur's role as heir to the throne of Camelot and her own lack of any real authority, until her help is needed by the young prince.
Word Count: 417
Prompt: #69 Envy
Author's Notes: Thank you to inspired_being for beta'ing my drabbles. This story is a continuation of last week's 'Sibling Rivalry' which can be read here.
Morgana fumed. Arthur, the little brat, had only been sent to bed without supper. A totally insufficient punishment considering the fright he'd given her by putting that horrible dead rat in her bed. Uther was too easy on the boy. Just because he was the heir to Camelot's throne didn't mean he should get away with tormenting her. All of Camelot's vast lands and wealth would be Arthur's one day. All she had inherited was the Gorlois land; a meager plot of rocky land where survival from year to year was a struggle. And that was now under Uther's management until she was wed. Then it would be her husband who took charge of all of the property, including her.
It wasn't fair. Her father, against all convention, had done more than just allow her to train in weaponry. He had taught her how to manage the property and the basics of defensive warfare. Yet, she, as a woman, would never be able to put those skills to use. And yet, just by accident of birth, regardless of his skills, Arthur would assume the throne of Camelot. What she wouldn't give to switch places with him. She'd do a much better job than Arthur.
As she walked through the deserted courtyard, she thought she heard something. A small sound, a voice perhaps. She stopped and listened carefully. Over there, it was coming from over there, near the well. She could just make it out: "Help me, please" in a thin, wispy voice. It was coming from the well itself. She peered down and could see a shadowy form clinging to the bucket.
"Arthur, are you down there?"
"Yes. 'Gana, is that you? Can you get me out? I'm cold and wet and have been stuck down here for almost an hour."
"What on earth are you doing down there?" Morgana asked, as she felt a pang of sympathy for the frightened child.
"I was looking for frogs," Arthur replied petulantly.
"What were you going to do with a frog, Arthur? Put that in my bed too?" Morgana chided.
"No," the prince replied unconvincingly.
"If you promise not to put things in my bed anymore, I'll haul up the bucket, alright?"
"Alright, I promise," came the small reply.
Morgana thought to herself, This is the future King of Camelot? Yes, but right now he's just a frightened little boy who needs my help. She began turning the wheel to draw up the bucket as Arthur clung to it.