Nothing to Fear [Morgana]

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Henry didn't like this. They were still going to class, still attending school, still acting like everything was normal. It wasn't normal. Nothing was normal.

And yet he was sitting in psychology class, tapping his pencil on the desk as he glared out the window. He didn't care what they were talking about today, unless it was how to deal with the army that was approaching. Was psychology going to help them with that?

Finally impatient, Henry raised his hand. "Ma'am?" he said, addressing his teacher. "What's the point of all this? Why are we pretending like there's nothing out there to worry about? How is any of this helping us?"

Frowning, he thought over what they could be doing. "Why don't we try learning something useful, like why these people are coming and how we can stop them?"

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Another day, another hour of class, and another roomful of students who looked like they clearly wished to be in another place. It was not Morgana's fault they had chosen to study this. Nor was it her fault that the war was keeping them all from learning anything new. None of it would stop Morgana from doing her job. The job she had chosen, so that she could understand more of the students and see who would possibly be naive enough to chose the her side one day rather than Arthur's when it came down to that.

But they were mid-lesson, and as much as Morgana would have loved to switch topics and speak of something less...unnerving, she simply could not. There was a reason she had chosen this area of work, and although she was studying it herself, there was a way that she could be more experienced. And that was to speak in such a way that would hop around lessons rather than delving right into them. "Some of the greater minds in history, such as Plato or Socrates have written books and books are written of them and their ways of thinking," Morgana began, already walking away from the teacher's desk.

"Psychology actually dates back all the way to the Stoics and the Epicureans, both a Hellenistic group of followers who considered that to gain knowledge is everything, be it by learning how to behave, to control emotions, or how to gain pleasure." History lessons bored Morgana to death, but was a necessary part of the course. Perhaps later on she could bring a few demonstrations to class. "Medieval Muslim physicians liked to believe that there were-" Morgana then stopped talking and was ready to glare at whoever had just interrupted her lesson.

The boy continued asking his questions, and Morgana noticed a few other students nodding their heads in agreement to this. Of course, she could not expect every student to actually listen to her droning on about something she didn't even like all that much. Morgana approached the boy who'd spoken, asking her to teach something useful, and even voicing his thoughts aloud, then stopped right in front of him, even smiling a little, her green-blue eyes glittering, as if she were pleased.

"What is your name, pray you tell?" she asked, still smiling, and then she addressed the whole class. "I understand that perhaps most of you would rather be out there, learning how to defend this country, discovering new war tactics. But to learn of that that, do you not think that," she turned back to the boy, "you need to know how others behave? How to think for your own? Even predict what others are thinking so that you might either aid them or oppose them?"

To the class again, "There is beauty in such a subject as Psychology, dear students. Without it, there would simply be no wise decisions to study, no guidance to understand. I warn you, do not take this for granted. One day, you all will wish you tried your best to learn, to understand the human way of thinking, and the behavior humanity exerts, but you will not."

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He folded his arms across his chest. "Henry," he said shortly. He wasn't about to lie, though he wondered if he would get in trouble for speaking up like that in class. He hoped not.

"Well sure I want to know what they think," he started, "But you're--" And yet she was already continuing to speak. Henry bit his tongue to keep from shouting out in the middle, but as soon as she took a break he was ready to start his spiel.

"I already know a lot about how people think. People who are scared have tics, and if you watch them you can see that. But how is that supposed to help us in the middle of a fight?" He threw his hands up and slammed them on the desk. "And I really don't see how learning about where psychology comes from is going to help us to understand our enemy."

He looked around to the rest of the room for support, even if it was just in quick looks and small smiles here and there. Then he stared up at his teacher again. "If you want to teach about people's brains, fine. But why not just teach us stuff that is actually going to help us in life instead of knowing where it comes from and all that junk?"

If she could prove that her subject was a useful one, he might listen. But he still wasn't sold on the idea of psychology helping to win a war.

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This boy was just asking Morgana to magically shut him up. She had the patience, because she had trained herself to have so, but when an insolent boy began thinking he was smarter than she, then her patience wore thin. If this Henry thought he knew more than Morgana did, especially about to war and about what they were to learn, then he was an idiot. He did not have what it took to go to war and fight. She could destroy him with a mere twitch of the finger, if only he knew.

Another approach might be best. Morgana would force herself to remain calm, to smile her charming smile, and proceed with her attempts to innocently change his mind. "If we were to be attacked on surprise right this moment, do you really think you would be ready for war, Henry?" she asked, letting him decide whether it was a rhetoric question of not. She turned to glance at him once again. "Or perhaps you would like me to turn this into a class of combat and weaponry."

Shaking her head at him, Morgana spoke louder so that the entire class could hear her. "Send a boy out into battle, a boy who knows nothing but to run his mouth, and I can assure you that he would never return. You must think with your minds and not with your mouths." Perhaps Morgana wasn't so very much older than these students, but she knew ten times more than they did about battles and about fighting. It took skill, and once one mastered skill, it required a heavy amount of knowledge and wisdom.

"Perhaps, Henry, you would like to teach this class. Give the students your own personal experience with fighting tactics and with understanding your enemy," Morgana said casually, shrugging. She was actually quite curious as to see what this boy knew. To see whether he was just one of those foolish boys, or he really knew something. As she was teaching, it was good to understand the enemy. "Go on." She motioned towards Henry, then took a seat in the back, to where she'd made her way.

If it was a class on fighting they wanted, then Morgana, one of the best swordswomen and fighter in Camelot, would see what the boy could have to offer.

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Frowning, Henry analyzed her questions, taking them at face value. "Well, sure!" he said after a moment. "Why not? We're not ready for a fight. Why not have another class on combat skills? If you know how and you think it will help us to deal with the army, then sure!" He was actually a little confused. The way she'd said it made it seem like it was some sort of trick question. He was waiting for the trick.

The insult made his lips narrow and go white as he bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from saying anything mean immediately. "Send a boy to battle with a sword he knows how to use and a leader who tells him where to use it and you have a small army," he said quietly. "Not everyone needs brains, just skill."

He initially shook his head, not willing to take over the class. But Morgana seemed insistent about it, so he reluctantly stood up and turned to face the class. He coughed and looked out over the room, most of whom seemed to be looking up at him with either disapproving or pitying eyes.

"Um," he said, wincing immediately at the poor start. "Well, this enemy is pretty mean. And ruthless. They chopped one of their own soldier's legs off because they thought maybe he was going to run away." He gulped heavily. "And they almost chopped off my hand." He flexed his hands, glorying in the feel of his fingers. "They want to rule everything and then they won't let anyone else have any say. So I think everyone should gather behind our leaders and let them put together a strategy for how to fight back."

Henry cast a look over at his teacher, unsure what she would think about all of this. "I don't think we know how to lead or how to understand people. I think there are generals who know that, and I think we need to just learn how to fight and then go out and do it." And with that, he slowly sank back into his chair.

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Morgana could only roll her eyes at such a naive attitude. The boy really thought that the students were ready for a fight. He actually believed that they should have a combat class instead of psychology. "You have oh, so much to learn, Henry. And there is more to war than swordfighting and defense moves, I assure you," Morgana replied, keeping her eyes fixed on him.

She could not believe how uneducated these kids were. Of course, not all of them had grown up in a castle that offered the best education possible, if even that many. Morgana had been lucky to have had the opportunity to studying under the best swordsmen in the realm.

"False," Morgana protested instantly after Henry finished speaking. He was ridiculous. He had no idea what he was saying, and he was causing the rest of the students to believe his nonsense. This was why her most favorite duty was not being a teacher. She was far better as a plain and simple ward. And part-time witch. "If you know how to merely wield a sword, unknowing to where you were going or what you were supposed to be doing, no strategy whatsoever, then you are as good as dead, Henry."

But it seemed to be that Henry knew a lot more about the enemy than Morgana did. She actually paid attention to him, taking in his every single word, without giving it away with a look on her face, that was, in fact, deeply interested. Ah, ruthless was Morgana's middle name, along with so very many. The fact that the so called enemy's army was just so cruel almost caused her to smile to herself. This should work out beautifully, especially for her.

But Morgana gave him no emotion. She stayed as still as a stone, as she had been taught, as a lady in the court. Giving away emotion meant being weak and not knowing your place. Henry sat down after his little speech, and Morgana still remained in her sitting position, but she was applauding for the boy, though she was the only one. "Bravo, Henry," Morgana said loudly, still clapping awkwardly. "I'd like to see you after class, if you don't mind." And the tone of her voice was seriously chilled enough to scare anyone into thinking that they were about to be sentenced to death.

Class would be over in less than a minute, and Morgana's class hadn't even learned much. How lovely.

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Henry snorted through his nose. He knew he didn't know everything. That was why he was trying to learn. "I know enough to follow my leader," he barked. "That's enough for me." It sounded like a good defense until one realized that he actually was horrible at following instructions and likely would never manage to follow his leader.

When Morgana said she wanted to talk to him after class, Henry groaned under his breath, upset that he'd even bothered to talk. He waited until everyone else left and stayed totally still in his chair.

"Sorry I disrupted your class," he muttered. "Next time I'll just shut up. Is that what you want to hear from me?"

He wasn't really sure what else she could want; she clearly hadn't thought he'd made any good points, or she might've said something in class instead of making him look like an idiot in front of all of the other students.

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The boy knew nothing. All he knew was to follow orders, if even that much. But could he follow them correctly? Morgana would find this out very soon, for she might have use of this boy. She needed a smooth tongue and a charming attitude outside of class to get him to see her for who she could really be. But that all took skill, of course, and Morgana learned many things all very quickly. It should not take too long to convince him.

Only Henry remained in the room, and Morgana approached his chair again, practically glowering down at him as he said his apology, and only to find out that he had not even meant it. Rolling her eyes at him, Morgana wondered how much patience she could have with these people, because they were proving to be quite annoying indeed. She pulled the neighboring chair to sit closer to him, but maintained a good distance still. Should anyone hear, certainly she might be considered suspicious. As if.

"Not at all," Morgana snorted as if it were the most ridiculous thing in the world. "You are not staying after class so that I may further scold you on the matter, Henry. I encourage students to speak up in class, actually. It is good to open up a discussion on important matters." Morgana smiled kindly upon him, and continued with her praising. "In fact, I urge you to continue stating your opinions." Yeah. Right. Do it again, and I'll set you on fire, kid. But getting on his good side was vital. Her plans were slowly unraveling, and it was marvelous.

For a moment, Morgana wondered if she could use her physical charm to take the boy on her side. She was attractive enough, and he looked naive enough to take it rather than leave it. But perhaps that was too amateur. Morgana should save that for if all else failed. "I do have a couple of questions, however, Henry. About the enemy." Feigned concern shone in her eyes as she laid a hand on his arm. "You've trespassed onto their camp? And made it back alive? What do you know of their grounds, Henry?"

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He looked up, startled, from staring at his clasped hands on his desk to staring at his teacher's face. "Oh yeah?" he asked, raising his eyebrow. He was suspicious of any teacher telling him he was encouraged to speak up in class, especially when he had clearly been a huge disruption and hadn't really started any decent debate. "Then why did you need to hold me back?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest and slumping further into his chair.

As she sat across from him, Henry looked her over. She looked happy enough, all smiley. That was the first thing that made him doubt her. He never trusted a teacher who looked that happy; they were probably about to assign extra homework. And then she came at him with a question about the enemy camp, which only made him more suspicious.

"Why do you want to know?" he said, looking up at her. "I already gave my official report to the school. I was out hunting with my friend, we got found by one of the army scouts, and there was a small group. We didn't make it to camp, just to the outskirts, and one of the guys tried to cut my arm off. Then we managed to fight our way out and get back here. End of story."

Now that he'd delivered the same speech to his teacher, which he assumed was what she really wanted, he looked back up at her. "Can I go now? Or was there something else? Because I can't tell you anything else about the army."

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She tilted her chin upwards, practically just waiting for that question to be asked. Of course, Morgana had the answer to everything. "I was merely arguing your point. Showing you that you can easily be shot down by others who believe you to be speaking nonsense and folly," she replied, nodding her head once as if she'd just said the wisest thing ever. "Speak, boy. But it would indeed be helpful if it was relevant to what I am teaching."

"I don't want to know, I am asking out of concern," she said honestly, still frowning slightly as if to prove her point. But the more he told of his story, the more Morgana was trying not to either frown deeper or smile. So the opposing army was settled pretty much everywhere, right up to the border line. They were ready to march. And this made Morgana happy. However, the fact that two children had managed to escape them meant that they needed to practice a bit more with strategy.

Why did men have to be so stupid? What could she do to change the fact that the other army was slightly weak? Could she offer her own advice? Use her magic? Oh, there was no doubt about it that magic would be involved. But should she do it? Put her new face into action for the first time?

He couldn't, or he wouldn't? Morgana had to wonder. But any other questions, and Henry might just begin asking her a thing or two. She didn't need a child on her back at the moment. "No, Henry, that was all. Thank you. You may run along now, if you wish," she said with a small sigh. She had learned very little and yet very much. It all depended on how she gazed upon it.

It might be better to remain optimistic. That was what she was going to do.

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Smooth. Henry almost believed her, and if he didn't have an automatic inclination to disbelieve teachers when they said students were allowed to speak their minds, he likely would have completely trusted Morgana. As it was, though, he'd spent too many years with tutors who were so sure that their way was the right way that he couldn't actually trust a teacher who said he was allowed to argue a point. "I know I can be shot down. It happens all the time. You don't have to make me feel more worthless than everyone else here tries to do." It was clear his opinion wasn't actually going to be valued, so he decided to keep his report brief.

He almost saw the gears turning in Morgana's head, much as she tried to hide it. Her eyes, though, were just a little too calculating. No matter what she was thinking, Henry didn't want to know about it. He just wanted to get out of there. Most likely she was trying to think of a good way to punish him sometime later if he ever tried to talk out in class again. That was easy to avoid: he wouldn't speak.

Pushing away from the desk, Henry gathered his stuff and began to walk away. "Thank you, Ms. LeFey. I'll see you tomorrow." He threw in a nod of the head, his version of a mock bow in this day and age. He could "run along"? If she wasn't going to respect him as an adult, there was no reason for him to respect her as a teacher, or so he justified his insult.