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ficticonsTitle: Solitary
Fandom: Camelot (Starz)
Characters and/or pairings: Sybil, Morgan, OFC (in the story only briefly)
Rating: G
Length: 779 words
Disclaimer:This story was not written for profit in any way whatsoever. It was written for the enjoyment of the author and other readers (including other fans) only. The characters of Sybil and Morgan (this version) are property of Starz Entertainment and this author has only borrowed them.
Summary: Sybil thinks about Morgan while they're both still at the nunnery.
“But I am telling the truth, Sister Sarah!”
The young girl in novice’s robes – face wet with tears, arms taut and fists clenched at her side – glared angrily at the nun in front of her.
“Is that your final word, Sister Morgan?”
“Yes! Why won’t you believe me?”
The older woman sighed. “Come with me to see the Prioress, Sister Morgan. Maybe she can help you. After last week she did want to know if this happened again…”
Sybil watched as Morgan and Sarah walked away. The child continued to protest and struggled if the woman tried to hold her hand or get close to her at all; the nun seemed to be losing her patience with the child who would not settle down. It was not the first time that one of Morgan’s outbursts had put the women around her out of ease.
Once they were out of sight, Sybil stepped away from the pillar she had concealed herself behind. She quietly slipped out of a side door into one of the more secluded gardens and knelt carefully beside a plant bed. As she picked herbs, she considered Morgan’s situation.
The child had certainly gotten the attention of most of the other nuns – something that Sybil felt could have been avoided if only she’d been the first to hear Morgan tell of her experiences. As it had happened, the girl had gone through them quite a few times before Sybil had heard about them, even through second- or third-hand accounts. It had been even longer still before she had witnessed, for the first time, one of Morgan’s confrontations with another nun.
Yet she was mystified that no one else seemed to see what she saw as clearly as if it were a sheet of glass, once she knew where and how to look. Morgan had a gift involving power – strong, deep, and possible elemental power - that could change her life if it was used properly. Eventually, Sybil had come to think that most of the others were either too weak to see it or too unwilling to accept it, neither of which she was.
For the moment, however, she remained quiet.
She did not speak, even if she was in the room, when some of the others told Morgan firmly that she was to stop pretending – seeing faces that were not her own in her washing-water indeed! – and focus more on her calligraphy or needlework or meditation.
She did not say anything when Morgan protested the veracity of her claims, sometimes loudly and always insistently.
And Sybil did not add her voice to those that gave Morgan extra tasks for what they probably saw as her continued defiance – more chores, additional pages of calligraphy, or (what Morgan hated most of all, as Sybil came to realize) more time in solitary meditation.
No. Once she’d started keeping a closer eye on Morgan, Sybil had noticed that her confrontations with the others occurred in a fairly consistent pattern. This gave her more of an understanding about what the girl was going through, and she always retreated somewhere private after each confrontation she saw. She’d thought a long time about everything she’d seen and heard before finally deciding on her plan of action.
She never gave up her observation of Morgan either, which was how she had been present but unnoticed at the scene with Sister Sarah this morning.
And now Sybil silently repeated the vow she had made when she first came up with her plan. She would be different. Morgan would approach her eventually – she was sure of that – and on that day, Sister Sybil would do a great deal more than think. She would comfort Morgan, like some of the more sympathetic sisters did, yes, but she would also go farther than that.
She would teach Morgan everything she could. Some of that, Sybil reflected, would be what the child was probably eager to learn. Those lessons, about attempting to interpret the meanings of her visions, learning how to control those visions and their outward signs (such as the mysterious nosebleeds Morgan experienced sometimes), and how to foster her talents for language, would probably go fast and well. The question was where and how to proceed from there.
Sybil smiled to herself. She would continue to do some studying on her own on that subject and develop some answers. Perhaps she’d ask Morgan some of those questions, just to see what she thought. The girl definitely needed something – perhaps someone – to challenge her.
Whatever happened, however, Sybil was certain of one thing.
After Morgan came to her, neither of them would ever be alone again. She’d sworn it.
AN: This fic was the result of this prompt posted byelwing_alycone in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fic_promptly.
Fandom: Camelot (Starz)
Characters and/or pairings: Sybil, Morgan, OFC (in the story only briefly)
Rating: G
Length: 779 words
Disclaimer:This story was not written for profit in any way whatsoever. It was written for the enjoyment of the author and other readers (including other fans) only. The characters of Sybil and Morgan (this version) are property of Starz Entertainment and this author has only borrowed them.
Summary: Sybil thinks about Morgan while they're both still at the nunnery.
“But I am telling the truth, Sister Sarah!”
The young girl in novice’s robes – face wet with tears, arms taut and fists clenched at her side – glared angrily at the nun in front of her.
“Is that your final word, Sister Morgan?”
“Yes! Why won’t you believe me?”
The older woman sighed. “Come with me to see the Prioress, Sister Morgan. Maybe she can help you. After last week she did want to know if this happened again…”
Sybil watched as Morgan and Sarah walked away. The child continued to protest and struggled if the woman tried to hold her hand or get close to her at all; the nun seemed to be losing her patience with the child who would not settle down. It was not the first time that one of Morgan’s outbursts had put the women around her out of ease.
Once they were out of sight, Sybil stepped away from the pillar she had concealed herself behind. She quietly slipped out of a side door into one of the more secluded gardens and knelt carefully beside a plant bed. As she picked herbs, she considered Morgan’s situation.
The child had certainly gotten the attention of most of the other nuns – something that Sybil felt could have been avoided if only she’d been the first to hear Morgan tell of her experiences. As it had happened, the girl had gone through them quite a few times before Sybil had heard about them, even through second- or third-hand accounts. It had been even longer still before she had witnessed, for the first time, one of Morgan’s confrontations with another nun.
Yet she was mystified that no one else seemed to see what she saw as clearly as if it were a sheet of glass, once she knew where and how to look. Morgan had a gift involving power – strong, deep, and possible elemental power - that could change her life if it was used properly. Eventually, Sybil had come to think that most of the others were either too weak to see it or too unwilling to accept it, neither of which she was.
For the moment, however, she remained quiet.
She did not speak, even if she was in the room, when some of the others told Morgan firmly that she was to stop pretending – seeing faces that were not her own in her washing-water indeed! – and focus more on her calligraphy or needlework or meditation.
She did not say anything when Morgan protested the veracity of her claims, sometimes loudly and always insistently.
And Sybil did not add her voice to those that gave Morgan extra tasks for what they probably saw as her continued defiance – more chores, additional pages of calligraphy, or (what Morgan hated most of all, as Sybil came to realize) more time in solitary meditation.
No. Once she’d started keeping a closer eye on Morgan, Sybil had noticed that her confrontations with the others occurred in a fairly consistent pattern. This gave her more of an understanding about what the girl was going through, and she always retreated somewhere private after each confrontation she saw. She’d thought a long time about everything she’d seen and heard before finally deciding on her plan of action.
She never gave up her observation of Morgan either, which was how she had been present but unnoticed at the scene with Sister Sarah this morning.
And now Sybil silently repeated the vow she had made when she first came up with her plan. She would be different. Morgan would approach her eventually – she was sure of that – and on that day, Sister Sybil would do a great deal more than think. She would comfort Morgan, like some of the more sympathetic sisters did, yes, but she would also go farther than that.
She would teach Morgan everything she could. Some of that, Sybil reflected, would be what the child was probably eager to learn. Those lessons, about attempting to interpret the meanings of her visions, learning how to control those visions and their outward signs (such as the mysterious nosebleeds Morgan experienced sometimes), and how to foster her talents for language, would probably go fast and well. The question was where and how to proceed from there.
Sybil smiled to herself. She would continue to do some studying on her own on that subject and develop some answers. Perhaps she’d ask Morgan some of those questions, just to see what she thought. The girl definitely needed something – perhaps someone – to challenge her.
Whatever happened, however, Sybil was certain of one thing.
After Morgan came to her, neither of them would ever be alone again. She’d sworn it.
AN: This fic was the result of this prompt posted by
elwing_alycone in fic_promptly.