Disclaimer: I have sent my spies to hunt Mr. Buckley down and make him give me the Sisters Grimm deed. MUAHAHAHA! Oh... I just received word that they dropped it in the Atlantic Ocean. I knew I shouldn't have hired Puck... darn.

Just The Way It Is

I sigh deeply. Has it really been a couple hundred years since I last saw him? Just as well, I guess. He's become a villain, a monster, and a member of the Scarlett Hand. You may be wondering who I am. Well, my name is Morgan le Fay. The man I'm thinking about is none other than… Bluebeard. Yeah, you must be thinking I'm insane or a murderer or something equally as awful. That thought in itself makes me wonder about you as a person.

Let me ask you a question. When you hear about a person's wrong- or in Bluebeard's case, downright morbid- deeds, do you automatically think that the only thing that person is capable of doing is evil? So, you think that Bluebeard was born evil? Or do you think he just woke up one day and thought, "I'm going to be a monster from now on because I feel like it"? Yeah, okay. Whatever floats you boat.

Great, now it sounds like I'm defending him. Let's put it this way, when Bluebeard and I first met, He was not evil or in any way demonic. When we met I must've been about, um… thirteen I'd say. Bluebeard would have been fourteen. Remember, this was quite a while ago, way before I had all my admirers. It was a time when I was just a young girl who was too afraid of life and all of its monsters. I actually wouldn't even talk.

This is how our story started.


The end of the school day bell sounded. "RRRIIINNNGGG!"

I sighed in relief, the day was finally over. I hurriedly gathered my books and quickly ran to my house, which was only a few minutes away.

Once I was home, I walked into the kitchen and was pouring myself some water when I heard objects breaking and a string of slurred curses. I knew who was making that racket, even though I hated to admit it.

It was my drunken father, probably stumbling over his own feet. That's not even the worst part, considering that I'm the one who had to clean up whatever mess he made. Yeah, you heard right, I have no mother. Not anymore at least. She had left when dad started drinking.

She was one of those real quick judging people. Didn't even know why he started drinking, just up and left. Though, it's not like he wanted to talk about it, exactly. Heck- I didn't even know why he drank. All he would ever say is that he saw something horrible.

I decided that it was best to leave him alone in his drunken state. With that decision I left the house and walked into the forest that's on the edge of our backyard. If you walked far enough into the forest there is a clearing and in the far corner of the clearing there was a big weeping willow.

I came here very often. It was sort of like my escape, you know? I guess the reason that I like it out here is the fact that it's so surreal and relaxing. There's even the occasional deer that comes tramping out of the woods and across the clearing.

There are probably many other wild beasts in the forest, like bears, snakes, and others, that I didn't want to think about right then, but, to be perfectly honest, I wouldn't have minded if one of them came and gruesomely murdered me. If you had my life, you'd understand. I don't think anybody would even have realized that I had disappeared.

That is where I went to erase my day. My dad uses booze and beer and I use God's beautiful creation. I just get lost in my wild imagination while staring at all my wonderful surroundings. The best part is that I got to look at it from a birds-eye view.

That's right, I would climb the willow. Once I was high as I could go, I forgot about all the awful situations in my life. Like the fact that I was failing in school because I was too busy worrying about the beating I may or may not have gotten when I walked into my house. Or maybe even the fact that I sometimes had to call the doctor because my dear father has had too much to drink. Then I had to think about jobs I could try to get if my grandpa forgets to send us money for my birthday. You didn't honestly think my dad was the one to worry about our mortgage did you? And never would I dare report my dad to the authorities for neglecting me. I mean, who wants to grow up in a foster home or orphanage? Not me, that was for certain.

"Hey girl! Yeah, you in the weeping tree! What are you doing up there?" a boy called out to me.

Had I been so into my thoughts that I hadn't noticed a boy standing at the bottom of the tree? I suppose so. I decided that the best way to get rid of him would be to ignore him. So I didn't glance his way.

"Are you deaf? I asked what you were doing up there," he shouted after a minute or two. I had seen him at school before. He was pretty hard to miss considering his hair was vibrant blue.

"I can't see you that well because the willows' vines are partially hiding you face, but I think I've seen you in school before. You're always by yourself and you never talk. Some of the kids think that you're mute. But I know better than that. You're just shy. My name is Bluebeard, even though I don't have a beard," he rambled. "Are you scared of people? Is that why you won't talk? Are you afraid of me? It's not like I'm going to hurt you or anything. I'm worried about you, that is all. Oh, wow, that didn't come out the way I wanted it to. I just don't think it's normal for a person to be so quiet."

How could one person have so much to say? I said nothing, in hopes that he'd go away. Of course, I had no such luck.

He sighed. "Look, why don't you just come sit with me? I mean, what's the difference between sitting up there and sitting down here?"

I wanted to tell him to get lost so very badly, but I held my tongue. I didn't want him to think that he could get me to talk by being persistent.

"Well, at least answer me this. Why are you such a loner? I don't want to be rude, but don't you feel, you know… lonely?" he asked.

Was he frustrated with me? He probably was, which was good, I went there to be left alone, not to be asked all these annoying questions. Couldn't the kid take a hint? Apparently not. I stayed mute.

"Come on! I mean, I get that you want me to leave you alone,but here I am anyway. I'm practically begging you to speak to me. Doesn't that tell you that I'm not going to leave until you say something? Why are girls so complicated? What would it do to you to talk?" he ranted angrily.

'Why are girls so complicated? Is that what he said? Why are boys so stubborn? Why can't he ignore my existence like everyone else on this planet? Why is it that the only person who notices me just happens to be the most annoying kid on earth? That is what I call cruel sad fate.' I fumed on the inside.

"Do you want me to come up there?" he yelled after realizing that he was not going to get an answer.

'Wait, what did he just say? No, I didn't want him to come up here! That would be unbearable.' I thought to myself shaking my head.

Apparently he saw the motion.

"You can move! Good, I was starting to think that you were a ghost. Well, if you don't want me to come up then you're going to have to get down from up there," he said.

'Was that a threat?' I was not going to let him talk to me like that. So, I did the more mature thing. I continued to ignore him. He waited for a moment before making his threat a reality. "Alright, but just remember, you asked for it!"

I wasn't worried. I was a lot smaller than him. He wouldn't be able to climb as high as I could. Plus, I had speed, which made it easy for if I ever needed to use an escape route. But first things first, I needed to climb higher.

Once I climbed as high as I thought needed and I waited for him to catch up.

After a minute I looked down. I was shocked to see him only a couple of branches below myself. I really underestimated his ability. I hadn't even heard him coming!

I swung to the other side of the tree to make m escape. I jumped a few branches down, but unfortunately lost my footing. This was a slight setback. Once I regained my balance it was too late. Bluebeard had a firm grasp on my slender wrist. I turned to look at him in the eyes and gave him a heartfelt glare. If only looks could kill….

Don't judge me on what I did next. It was spur of the moment thinking and something that- had I thought it through- I would've voted against. But I wasn't thinking- and I really didn't want to talk to him.

So, I bit his hand. Rather hard, now that I think about it.

He let out a painful howl and I was released. I hurriedly scampered down the tree and made a break for the woods. Unfortunately, I only made it a few steps before he grabbed my arm, nearly pulling it out of its socket.

What was this kid's issue?

I spun on my heels and socked him in the nose. He didn't let go of my arm. So I put in a well-placed kick that hit the spot that counts the most.

He groaned and fell to his knees. Yeah, that's got to hurt.

I stood up and sprinted in the opposite direction. He called out to me, but like heck was I going to stop.

Though, I had looked over my shoulder just in time to see him launch himself right at me. He caught my foot, but just barely. It was enough to make me fall face first, though.

I almost kicked him off when I heard him cough.

"Okay, I surrender! You win. I. Just. Want. To. Talk," he panted.

I instantly felt bad and remembered why this fight had started. Because he just wanted to talk. He had not tried to kill me. He just wanted me to say something.

"I'm sorry," I muttered, barely making any sound at all.

He heard me, though.

"Let's sit and you can tell me why you were ignoring me," he suggested.


After that day Bluebeard and I became best friends and eventually lovers, but several years later something went wrong- terribly wrong.

I remember it like it was yesterday. It was a beautiful day. The sun was radiantly shining, the clouds looked like comfortable, overstuffed chairs. The birds were singing gayly, children were playing joyfully in my front yard. The best part of it all was that Bluebeard and I, Morgan la Fay, were to be wed in exactly two months four days three hours and seventeen minutes time. But who's counting? It seemed like everything was right with the world. I couldn't have been more wrong.


I had been looking for Bluebeard in his vast mansion. We had planned a picnic together for lunch today, but- after an hour of sitting with me, myself, and I- I got impatient. So, there I was, without a clue of where to look for him.

Then I heard footsteps echo along the stone walls of this seemingly never ending hallway.

Thinking that it was Bluebeard I called out, "Bluebeard! I've been looking for you. Why didn't you show-" I trailed off abruptly when I heard two sets of footsteps, though, one set was very faint. Obviously Bluebeard had company.

I was curious to see who Bluebeard had chosen to be with instead of showing up to our picnic. So I peered around the corner. Though,instead of seeing Bluebeard and one of his friends, I saw a young woman walking along with an infant.

I was shocked. Was Bluebeard courting another woman? I was about to find out.

"Oh, hello," I said so sweetly that I felt sick. "You're not Bluebeard now, are you? Well, would you happen to know where my fiancé is?"

The young woman looked terrified. She hastily scooped the infant into her arms, as if protecting it from some kind of danger.

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice quivering.

"Why, I am Morgan la Fay. Now that I've answered your question, I would like an answer to mine. Where's Bluebeard, and what are you doing in his house?" I had grown agitated, but was trying not to show it. I don't think it worked.

The look on the woman's face was now of confusion.

"You said you are Bluebeard's fiancé, yet you don't know why I am here?" she questioned. "Bluebeard kidnapped us from my fathers' house and took me and my baby brother here. He said I was to become his bride," she explained.

I was puzzled. So Bluebeard really was seeing someone else?

At my silence the girl continued, "He left this morning on a business trip. I don't know where he went. Though he did leave me these with specific instructions," she held out her hand. In the palm of her hand she was holding an egg and a gold key ring which contained hundreds of keys.

"He told me I could venture into any room with these keys. Well, minus the room with a solid gold door. Bluebeard also instructed me to keep this egg safe so that when he came home he would see that I had not gotten into any mischief."

I didn't know what to make up of her story, but why would she make it up? She sounded sincerely terrified. I mean, it would sort of make sense if he had kidnapped her. He had seemed distant as of recently it was weird. It was as if he were plotting something, with the way he had acted over the past year or so. And I was good at easily trusting people, a habit I wish I had had when I was younger.

"What else did he say about this room with the solid gold door? Did he say there would be consequences if you were to enter it?" I inquired.

The young woman hesitated. "He didn't necessarily say 'there will be consequences'. Though, he did sound serious when he demanded that I not enter the room."

I told her that I was going to go home now and that I would come back in a couple of days to check up on her.

"Wait, before you go, I would like you to take my brother with you. I just want to ensure his safety. I'm going to look in that room. I will be sick with curiosity if I do not see what is inside. It is probably some very valuable treasure, and I don't want him repeating that I went into the room. I fear that if Bluebeard finds out that I disobeyed his only order that something dreadful might occur to me. Please, take the child. For me." She pleaded.

I looked at the infant and sighed.

"What is his name?"

"Mordred, his is name Mordred and he is three." She placed the boy in my arms. "Please promise that you will take good care of him. He is very important to me."

"Won't Bluebeard notice that he is missing?" I asked. If Bluebeard found out that I had spoken to this woman he would be furious.

She shook her head. "I will think of some sort of lie."

I nodded and was about to hug her, but hurriedly thought against it. Then, with Mordred, I set off in the direction of my house.

Half-way there I realized something- I hadn't even asked for the woman's name!

Once I was in my kitchen I set the boy on the counter and took a good look at him.

He had curly, dirty blonde hair and sparkly blue eyes. I could see that he was a trouble-maker. There was a glint in his eyes that told me so. He also had porcelain white skin, which told me that he may or not be a sickly child. And to top it all off he had the cutest button nose ever.

"Okay little fellow," I said slowly, "your big sister is a bit preoccupied at the moment so you're going to be staying with me for a couple of days. Is that alright?"

He just stared at me for a minute before saying, "Yeah."

Good, he wasn't going to give me a hard time. I was thankful, because for the time being, I needed to have peace and quiet to think through the whole Bluebeard situation. I was nearly positive that I believe the young woman, but did I really trust Bluebeard that little?

I was going to sleep on it. So, I tucked Mordred in right beside me and willed the next couple of days to pass quickly.

"Mordred, where are you? Okay, Mordred, you've won. I give up. Just please come out!" I yelled for the hundredth time. I had officially started to panic. Where could he be?

Our morning had started out pretty normal. We woke up, I made us breakfast,Mordred helped out with household chores for a few hours, then I made us lunch. What I'm trying to say is everything was going just fine. Until Mordred decided he wanted to play hide-and-go-seek.

I was in a pretty unbalanced mood. I was in a good mood because I had decided that I believed the nameless young woman, and that felt like a bunch of loads off my chest. Though, I was in a bad mood because Bluebeard was a kidnapper. Who would've thought that the man I was soon to be married to had kidnapped a young girl to marry her. The nerve of that fellow!

Anyway, I had thought that playing with Mordred might take my mind off things. So, I told him I would play. That was mistake number one. Then I told him he could hide first. Mistake number two. I didn't think that there was a need to set boundaries. Whopper mistake number three. So, there I was, searching high and low, indoors and outdoors, for a child who should have been easy to find. I knew I shouldn't have actually closed my eyes when I was counting. If I hadn't closed my eyes, though, I wouldn't have made mistake number four. Am I the only one seeing a pattern?

The fact of the matter is that I couldn't find the kid.

Then, out of nowhere, a light bulb went off in my head. I had been so stupid! Why I hadn't thought of it before was beyond me. You see, our little, mischievous, friend Mordred had quite a fondness for... cupcakes. Like all children, I suppose. I had found this small detail out when he was rummaging through my cabinets looking for something unhealthy to eat. When he had spotted the cupcakes he had dropped the bowl he was holding- leaving it to shatter on the floor. Of course, being the good, responsible baby-sitter that I am, I only let him have one. Which resulted in lots of kicking and screaming, but I held my ground.

"Oh Mordred, if I can't find you than I'll have to eat all these cupcakes by myself," I said loud enough for him to hear me.

I heard whimpering and smirked to myself. I had found his weakness. Though, the sound didn't give away where he was hiding.

"I guess he wouldn't mind if I ate dessert without him. Num, mmm. Oh this is so good. If only Mordred was hereto share these delicious cupcakes with me!" I said in a such a way that could make me envious.

Suddenly, clothes had flown everywhere and the boy jumped out of his hiding spot- in the laundry basket.

Mordred was on his knees before my feet. His hands in a position that made him look as though he were praying.

"Please, don't eat them all!" he screeched. I almost laughed at the pathetic pout on his face.

"Get up off your knees! Men don't pout!" I told him scoldingly. As you can imagine, he hurriedly scrambled to his feet.

"Can I have a cupcake now?" he asked with ginormous puppy-dog eyes.

That trick wasn't going to work on me. "You may have one after supper,"I said in my best you-can-give-me-those-eyes-all-you-want-but-it's-not-going-to-change-my-mind voice.

He crossed his arms, it was clear that he was sulking. I smiled and walked to the kitchen to make dinner for the two of us.

While I was pulling out some bread Mordred pulled up a stool next to the counter and climbed up on it, glaring at me the whole time.

"Cecelia would just give me the cupcake," he said matter-of-factly.

I had instantly frozen. I then turned to him asking, "Is Cecelia your older sister's name?"

He simply nodded his head, discreetly trying to grab a cupcake without me noticing.

I snatched the cupcake back from his little, greedy hands.

"You're a sly one, little guy, pretty smart, too. Has anyone ever told you that?" I inquired.

Mordred just smiled cheekily.

Later that night as I had just finished tucking him in, he whispered, "Night, Mommy."

I had been slightly taken aback by him calling me 'Mommy', but I relaxed and whispered back to him, "Night, sweetheart." I bent over to kiss his forehead and silently left the room.

When I had shut the door I was forced to confront an issue. How was I going to be able to detach myself from this boy?

I sighed and repeatedly told myself that whatever happened in the time span of the next day and a half was for the best. Yeah, for the best... right.

I rose from my bed at the sound of the obnoxiously loud rooster sounding its morning wake up call. That animal lives on a farm three houses down. Wow, that piece of poultry has lungs! Well it succeeded in getting me up. Not that I was sleeping anyway.

That day, at noon, I would go back to Bluebeard's mansion to check up on Cecelia. I just hoped that her curiosity hadn't gotten the best of her. Usually I would've said 'curiosity killed the cat' but entering the forbidden room was not punishable by death, certainly not. I hoped.

I wasn't sure to what measures Bluebeard would go to. I mean, he was a private person, to some extent. Aren't we all, though? I'd never paid any serious thought to it until now.

Another question posed a threat to this whole, fragile situation. Was it my responsibility to get young Cecelia and little Mordred home? Surely I would not marry Bluebeard after these series of events. Would I? It's not like I could just walk out of his life without raising suspicion. He would want to know why I didn't want to have anything to do with him. I couldn't lie to him, either. That's never been one of my strengths. He'd find out that I hadn't told him the truth and he would be enraged. Bluebeard could throw quite the fit if, to him, it seemed necessary- which it never truly was.

The point is I didn't know what I could do to make the situation look any better. I'm just your run-of-the-mill kind of woman. I have no concrete evidence against Bluebeard, it's a woman's word against his own. The authorities would most definitely not listen to a word I would have said.

All I could do was help Cecelia do escape. Though, it's not as though she couldn't do that on her own. The doors weren't sealed shut, and she wasn't under any kind of obvious supervision.

There could only three things holding her back.

One, Bluebeard's mansion was sort of in the mountains, far from civilization.

Two, she probably has no clue as to where her father's house is and in what village.

Three, the most obvious and prominent reason that she would be held back from returning home: fear. It's ugly and almost always unnecessary, but so true that it's scary. Women of our generation need to acquire bravery. We have no guts.

Today, I would prove that wrong.

'If my thoughts continue to ramble on like this the morning will seem to fly past,' I remember thinking. Boy, was I right. When noon hurriedly came I barely had time to feed Mordred and whisk him over to the neighbor's house until I returned with his sister. That was my plan so far. I guess we would have had to play it by ear. Just peachy.

I headed towards the mansion by foot, which was the only way I traveled. I had hoped everything would be the same way as when I left it, but I knew that something was off from the moment I entered the front door.

When I got there, there was no sign of Cecelia anywhere. I searched the hallways, the kitchen, the back and front yard, I literally peeked into every unlocked room, checking each tiny nook and cranny.

It's not like I had been to Bluebeard's place too many times, but I had looked at every looming shadow. There was nothing, absolutely nothing. I'm not going to lie, I was feeling depressed.

I sank to the floor, all my energy had been drained. Several hours of constant walking sometimes does this to people.

I was totally lost on what to do when I heard loud, yet muffled, screams pleading mercy from upstairs. It took me awhile to realize that I was upstairs. It seemed obvious now, so obvious that I felt like moron. I should have been able to see it from outside.

Bluebeard must have a tower.

I quickly prayed to the Lord that Cecelia would be safe until I got there. When I did, well… God help us both.

I thought it would be a safe bet that, to get to the tower, the passage would be only accessible by pushing or pulling a lever or something similar. Most men held there greatest treasures in their towers. It was usually treasures or sometimes... hostages. Which was reason enough to conceal the entrance, I guess.

I was, at the moment, sitting by a door that I had previously swung open in a rather large room, my back against the wall. I tried to get up, but my body was still exhausted. I sat there for a second, unable to move a muscle, when the pleas for mercy returned. I had to think about Cecelia.

I grabbed the door's handle for support. I knew it was a bad thing to grab, considering I wanted to use it to pull myself to my feet, but there wasn't anything else in the room. So I proceeded to hoist myself upward, in the process losing my grip. The door lurched forward and slammed shut before I could stop it.

I groaned to myself and was commanding my legs to move, telling them that this was a matter of life and death- yes, I was at the point of talking to my legs- when something caught my eye.

Behind the door was a book.

You are now wondering why a book caught my eye. It wasn't shiny and there wasn't anything spectacular about the bind. It was just oddly placed, that's all.

Curiosity fell over me like a thick drape that I could not see through. Besides, it wasn't curiosity that killed the cat. It was stupidity. Was I being stupid? I think not.

I reached out to grab the book. I took a hold of its spine, it wouldn't budge further than an inch, though.

A second passed, then I heard grinding and whistling- the kind that a kettle makes.

That's when the ceiling collapsed.

Well, it didn't really collapse. It more like folded and then stretched, and it was only a portion of the left corner.

When the imaginary dust cleared, I saw that it was a folding ladder attached to the inner ceiling. I took no precaution as I hastily climbed the ladder, for the pleas of mercy had ceased, and I don't think it was because the persecutor had let up.

When I was in the space above the ceiling, I was greeted by a stone spiral staircase.

'This is it,' I had thought to myself.

There were many steps, a few hundred at least. But I knew that I had to give it my all or everything I had done would have gone to waste.

At the top of the stairs there was a door made of clay, built to keep away intruders. Was this the end? If I made any noise, Cecelia would probably have to pay for it.

I nearly gave up in reluctant defeat when I saw a square-like carving in the upper middle section of the stone door that I hadn't noticed earlier. It was probably some kind of peep hole.

'Why would there be a peep hole?' I silently asked myself. 'Why does it matter?' It didn't.

There was an indentation in the peep hole made for people's fingers so that they could jiggle the block of clay out of its residence. I swiftly removed the cube of clay. I peered into the room behind the wall and instantly my heart sank into my stomach and a knot formed in my throat.

There was Cecelia, bound and gagged, with her head rolling around not two feet away from her.

He arms and legs were also scattered around the room, as if carelessly thrown.

I wanted to vomit right there and then, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the now separate parts of her decapitated body.

I knew I should run, but I couldn't move an inch. My blood had frozen in my veins.

"Hello, love. Did you miss me?" a sickly smug voice whispered in my ear.

I shivered in disgust, unable to say a word. He was so close that he was almost leaning against my back.

"I suppose you are still in awe of my handy work."

Every hair on my body bristled. Now I was angry. He had taken this innocent girl's life for no reason at all. It was as if he found it amusing.

I whirled around to face him.

"You MURDERER!" I yelled viciously. We were just millimeters apart,though I was careful not to touch this monster of a man.

Bluebeard pursed his lips.

"Now, that's no way to greet your fiancé. She was standing in the way of us," he said gesturing to himself and I. "It had to be done."

"LIAR! You didn't have to kill an innocent young woman!" I screamed while tears were streaming down my face. I beat at his chest furiously.

He grabbed me by the elbows and enveloped me in a possessive hug. I struggled to free myself, but there was no way he was letting go.

"Shhh," he whispered soothingly into my hair.

It worked for a moment as I cried into his chest. But then I remembered who was holding me.

I pushed him roughly, almost making stumble down the stairs.

"IT'S NOT OKAY! IT'S NOT OKAY! IT'S NOT, IT'S NOT, IT'S NOT!" I sank to the ground, fatigue getting the better of me.

I sobbed quietly for a minute, forgetting Bluebeard was there until he squatted in front of me, putting his hand on my shoulder.

"Why did you do it?" I whispered.

"She invaded my privacy. I asked of her one thing and she disobeyed me. She had to be punished."


He didn't respond.

"It was the forbidden room, the one with the gold door- wasn't it?" It was more of a statement than a question.

He nodded solemnly.

"What about the egg?"

Bluebeard just shook his head, obviously not wanting to reply. But he did.

"I found it soaked in blood, it's always the same." I could tell instantly regretted what he had said.

Then it clicked.

"YOU'VE DONE THIS BEFORE!" I already knew the answer.

I jumped to my feet, about to flee, but a hand was holding my wrist.

"Where do you think you're going?" he demanded.

"Where do you think I'm going?" I retorted.

"You think you can just leave?"

"Who's to make me stay? You've lied and killed. Did you honestly think I would still marry you if I found out?" I spat venomously.

"I'm to make you stay. You are nothing but a frivolous woman. You don't make the decisions- I do."

"Frivolous! Is that what I am to you? Even if I was frivolous, I'm smart enough to have found out your evil, morbid ways!"

That's when he pulled me into a rough kiss. I had let him kiss me for a moment, but then tore myself away.

"If you ever loved me, let me leave and be rid of you."

I had known that it would come to this, but I didn't think my heart would crack like it did at that moment.

He looked torn and miserable, but he nodded. He kissed my forehead gently, and I allowed a salty tear slip down my cheek.

I turned and willed myself to walk away so that I wouldn't change my mind.

"Morgan," he called. I faced him. "I never wanted to hurt you."

I looked at my feet. "I know, but it happened anyway." And with that I left.


I sigh as I remember the man I loved and left. It's sad, but true. I still have my Mordred, the one will never leave my side, though. Even if the only reason he is still with me is because he can't hold a job. And that's just the way it is.

I can't help smiling at the thought.

The End

A/N: You don't have to review, but if you do, I may give you a- wait for it… CUPCAKE! Yeah, now you want to review. XD

Even though this is not the first story I've posted, this is the first story I've written. It's actually based off a poem I made up…. It was solely written be me- no Red leprechauns involved whatsoever. This is the part set aside for a minute of silence. Let us bow our heads and pray for that sad, strange little girl… she needs it.

Oh, and even though FanFiction says it's spelled Morgan le Faye, they're wrong. I looked at the books and on the internet, both of which said it is spelled Morgan le Fay. If you don't believe me, check it out for yourself.

Ciao blitz! ~ Cat