Morgrr Alvalsdottir (start)

Do tell me what you think.

They dropped her before the Earl with contempt. The witch that had been filling everyone’s dreams with horrid visions of their sad, miserable lives ending. In the usual brutish manner of men whose summer customs were savagery and murder on faraway coasts, she was barely clothed, with only wisps of torn cloth dangling from her shoulders and hips. Most of Mulafell had gathered in the long hall to see the witch suffer the judgement of the Earl.

Morgrr stood up with pride, laying her hands at her sides and regarding the Earl with neutral eyes. As the savage man was wont to do, he made no effort in averting his gaze or meeting her eyes. His interests lay further south of the face. He seemed uninterested in speaking, so she began in his stead.

“You all consider me a witch, from what I’ve heard. Who accuses me?” she spoke in the most icy tone she could muster. It made the Earl meet her gaze. It was a start.

“Morgrr Alvalsdottir, you are accused before this Thing of the crime of poisoning people’s dreams and seducing men out of their beds and stealing their minds. You came to Mulafell months ago, asking for a place here. We welcomed you, and in exchange you have brought us bad dreams and vile deceit. The people accuse you of this. What say you?”

She had to stifle a cackle. “A witch I could understand, but a seductress? You people flatter me.”

An uneasy murmur rose from the crowd around her. Uneasy enough to give her confidence. “Well then, people of Mulafell. Earl Geirr. If my presence here is trouble for you, I may well take my leave, then. Assuming, of course, that all of you boorish louts and simpletons don’t plan to lynch me soon.”

Earl Geirr smirked. “I am afraid, Morgrr, your crimes are quite worthy of punishment. In need of punishment, by the laws of Mulafell. It is undeniable that since you have arrived, the folk have suffered in their sleep. You will be punished by a public beating and branding by fire. If the folk continue to suffer, then your crimes will be punishable by d-”

“Yes, naturally.” she cut in. “By death. What would it be, drowning? A sword through the chest? A battle with a bear? Or perhaps you would loose all the pock-marked fishwives of the town on me to savage me limb by limb?” Another murmur. She didn’t let the Earl answer.

“Well, Whichever it would be, know that I shan’t stand for it. I have had my fun with you poor fools. I was the cause of all those nightmares, I admit. But it isn’t my fault you are all bumbling simpletons. Weak minds are easy to scare. Especially by accident.”

The moment she stopped talking the uproar began. Shrill fishwife voices screamed insults on her like a waterfall. But she had no patience. The Earl, though donning a serious expression, looked amused. The poor fool thought he would enjoy this. But Morgrr had had enough, she spun and waved her hand over the fire. In an instant, its flames leapt into the air, licking the roof above them and blazing with every colour imaginable. Everyone in the hall, Earl included, jumped away from the blaze. The flames regressed and all eyes turned to Morgrr. The roof, almost by magic, hadn’t caught fire. In the instant everyone was distracted, she had donned a dark green velvet robe and a cape, her snowy-white face and gleaming yellow eyes obscured by a cowl. She spoke, and it was as if she was leaning into everyone’s ear as she did.

“Know this, peasants. I take nothing from you but your fear. Remember me not as Morgrr, daughter of Alvals, but as Morgana, daughter of Avalon. And fret no longer, I take my leave from your sorry lives.”

For another moment, thick gray fog enveloped the hall. When it lifted, nothing stood where Morgana was, but the wisps of cloth that had immodestly covered her mere moments before.