ava prince ✶ arthur pendragon (royalbackside) wrote in thereincarnates, @ 2012-08-16 12:48:00 |
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Entry tags: | ava prince, daniel morgan |
Who: Ava Prince and Daniel Morgan
What: The Morgans have had a rough year. Now, the worst has finally passed.
Where: Daniel's office in Camelot HQ
When: Thursday afternoon, August 16th, 2012
Warnings: TBD? Probably just sadness. :(
Sometimes, when Ava concentrated hard enough, she could almost pretend like the past year had never happened. Like the memories Frost had helped her find again had never been tampered with, twisted and perverted to fashion her into a mindless killing machine for the Resistance. When she closed her eyes, some of the memories still shone, like a curved mirror refracting unnatural light, but she wasn't controlled by them anymore. She was herself, and she knew what was real and what was not. Mostly, anyway. Some residual fear was still there that even Frost with her intensive dream therapy couldn't take away, which was why after five months Ava still hadn't sought out her brother. Part of her was afraid, but not for the reasons the Resistance had planted in her mind. This particular fear had always been with her, before she even knew how to name it.
It was the fear of an orphan. A child without a family, without identity, who had never wanted anything more than just to belong. A girl who made up stories about why her parents had abandoned her as soon as she drew her first breath. The truth had found her on her twenty-first birthday, only to be followed by a funeral for the father she never knew. But, in spite of the tragedy and her disastrous introduction to the other Morgans, she had found her family – one she'd always had, in a backwards sort of way. Back in the nunnery, there had been a boy who was much older than her, but treated her as an equal for the brief time he was there. Daniel Morgan, her brother. She'd tried to kill him five months ago, when she was completely out of her mind. The Resistance had convinced her that Daniel was trying to kill her, just like Morgana had when she found out the truth about her parentage; they'd only succeeded because they preyed on her lifelong insecurities. They buried her memories of the nunnery. They stripped her of the sense of belonging she'd attained over the past two years. They unmade her.
With the help of Frost, Liz, and Gareth, she was remade, she remembered now, and she missed her brother. She'd seen him, of course, since she became well enough to leave her room, but only from a distance, sticking to corners and shadows like a child playing at invisibility. The real Ava had never been that child – she'd been loud and brazen, demanding attention from everyone and declaring herself King of the Convent from the moment she understood what royalty was. She wanted to be the real Ava again. A knight, a sister, a Morgan. Morgans didn't hide. They fought tooth and nail for each other, and for Camelot. We fight, came Arthur's voice, softer and more reassuring than ever. More like a king now than a prince. For Camelot.
Swallowing her fears, she rapped her knuckles on the leader of Camelot's door, hesitantly at first, but finishing strongly. She pushed the door open a crack and peered inside. "... Danny?"