Fanfiction || To Rescue a Fair Maiden || Morgana/Morgause || Part Three
Title: To Rescue a Fair Maiden
Author: Sapphire Smoke cuzimastripper
Beta(s): BellaRei713
Fandom: Merlin
Rating: NC-17 for future chapters
Words: 23,492
Pairing: Morgana/Morgause
Summary: AU // As Morgana’s sixteenth birthday rapidly approaches, Morgause travels to Camelot with the hope she’ll be able to rescue her sister from King Uther before the binding spell on her powers breaks and Morgana finds herself alone in a place where having magick condemns her to death.
A/N: For NaNoWriMo 2012
Previous Parts: PART ONE | PART TWO
CHAPTER V
Soulbonding
“I think I’m going mad.”
Morgana was pacing back in forth in her bedchambers, drumming her hands erratically against her hips. Her thoughts were plaguing her, the dream she had last night replaying in her head over and over in some vile attempt to torture her sanity. Morgana knew that it shouldn’t matter; dreams could mean all sorts of things. But the seed had been planted the day before in her mind, and overnight seemed to sprout into an uncontrollable realization that Morgana no longer had any hope of suppressing.
It suffocated her.
“You’re not going mad,” Gwen responded patiently, absorbed in hemming the bottom of the dress her mistress had worn, and torn, the previous day. “Though if you don’t mind me saying so, it was probably foolish of you to try to run back to Camelot yesterday. Who knows what could’ve happened to you; you’re lucky a scraped knee and torn garment was the worst of it.”
Morgana felt ashamed. It was not like her to do something like that. “I know, I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to worry you. I just… I had to get back. It was urgent.”
“You left your horse, Morgana. That doesn’t seem like the quickest way to get back to your ‘urgent’ matter, regardless of the circumstances.”
“I didn’t want to leave you without a way back,” she answered, although even to her own ears the excuse sounded flimsy. Morgana sighed heavily, leaning against the wall as she closed her eyes. She felt so defeated; she could never hide anything from Gwen. Sometimes she couldn’t help but wonder why she even bothered to try. It was always such a futile task.
“Does she scare you that much?”
The question was said so lightly that Morgana could not understand how it felt as though the words were crushing her beneath their massive weight. “I’m not scared of her,” she vehemently denied, not enjoying how weak and foolish that made her sound. “I don’t even know her.”
The needle stopped in Gwen’s hand. She looked up at her. “But you admit she was why you ran?” It seemed she did not expect it. Morgana didn’t either.
“I… was overwhelmed,” Morgana forced herself to admit. It was difficult. It sounded so childish, didn’t it? She was nearly a woman, she should not be acting in such a manner; it was completely unbecoming. “She makes me feel something I don’t understand. And worse, I believe she knows that now.”
Gwen put down her stitching, a small smile crossing her face. She seemed happy that Morgana was finally speaking about it; Lord only knew what she must have been thinking as she watched her fall all over herself for days over some stranger. She must have looked so ridiculous. She probably still does.
“I think it’s sweet, that you’ve taken to someone.”
“I haven’t taken to her!” Morgana denied. Gwen looked at her skeptically and Morgana huffed, feeling flustered that her friend would believe that. That wasn’t how she felt, not really. It was so hard to explain, she barely understood it herself. “It’s more complicated than attraction, Gwen. It’s like I’m being pulled to her, or perhaps like I never left her. I don’t know, but I swear to you that this is different. I’m not-!” But she couldn’t even bring herself to say the word.
“Sapphic?” Gwen finished for her pointedly. Morgana glowered.
“I don’t want to sleep with her! At least I don’t think so. I don’t know, I haven’t really given much thought to it, if you must know!” Morgana was quickly becoming frustrated. She knew she wasn’t explaining this right, yet Morgana continued to try. “And even if I did, it wouldn’t be sexual.”
“No?” Gwen’s voice held amusing skepticism. Morgana couldn’t blame her; it did sound rather ridiculous.
“I know it sounds maddening, but it’s like I know she’s… mine.” A furious blush covered the Ward’s cheeks and she collapsed on her bed, covering her face with her hands. “I must be completely mental,” she mumbled. “There is no sanity to this, is there? Even I know I’m not making much sense. I just… I feel like I need to be a part of her life. God, I don’t even know her.”
As Morgana groaned, Gwen picked herself up off the floor to come sit by her on the bed. Her hand covered her knee in a gesture of comfort. “Perhaps you’re soulbonded.”
Morgana took her hands from her face to shoot her friend a disbelieving look. “That’s ridiculous. Why would I be soulbonded to a woman?”
The Elders in Camelot often told tales of soulbonded lovers, but they were merely stories. Besides, they had always featured the love between a man and a woman; Morgana wasn’t even sure legend allowed soulbonding between two people of the same gender. Perhaps there was such a thing as platonic soulbonding? But Morgana had never heard stories of that either.
“Do you have any other explanation for it? You’re being drawn to her in a way even you can’t explain. Perhaps you are even the reason Morgause came to Camelot, whether she’s aware of it or not.”
“Soulbonding is just a fairytale, Gwen.”
“All fairytales are based in truth,” she responded pointedly. Though Morgana did not wish to admit it, she knew Gwen was right about that. Still, it just sounded like such a bizarre concept.
“So what do you expect me to do? March down to there and tell her I believe we’re soulbonded so we can what, ride off into the sunset?” Morgana’s words were heavy with mockery, even though the picture was not exactly a bad one. She tried to wipe the image from her mind.
“Of course not, that would be mental.”
The brunette noticeably deflated, at a loss about what to do. She didn’t even know what it was she even wanted from Morgause. Right now, all she knew was that she longed to be near her. Her heart ached when she wasn’t. “I dreamt of her last night,” Morgause said after a long moment’s silence. She didn’t even know why she was admitting to such a thing, yet the words fell from her mouth with ease.
“Oh?” Gwen gently inquired, careful not to push her.
Morgana furrowed her eyebrows, trying to remember as much of it as she was able. “It was strange. I was reaching for her, though she was already wrapped around me. Like she was already a part of me, yet for some reason I couldn’t see it.”
“Then how did you know she was there?”
“It was like I was watching it through another’s eyes,” Morgana answered, knowing that it sounded strange. But then again, dreams were never in the habit of making much sense. She shrugged, slumping slightly against Gwen. Her friend wrapped her arms around her, knowing she needed the comfort. It was exhausting, being so confused about things.
“Do you know what I think?” Gwen began, brushing a long, dark ringlet away from her friend’s face. Morgana did not answer; she knew Gwen would tell her regardless. She did not disappoint. “You should invite her to your birthday.”
Morgana sat up straight with widened eyes. “I couldn’t do that! What would everyone think?” Gwen merely blinked at her, clearly not understanding Morgana’s protests.
“That you befriended your maidservant’s houseguest?”
Oh.
“I thought you meant…”
“I don’t think it’s wise to bring her as your date, my Lady,” Gwen heeded cautiously. “The King would be furious; it would cause a lot of unrest in the Kingdom. Our city’s religion is not kind when it comes to such matters, but I still believe you should follow your heart. Should you feel you want more than anything to be with her, please take caution. You are still, unfortunately, destined to be married off to a prince.”
The thought of her future marriage arrangements made Morgana sick to her stomach. She would rather live in her own world where she would not be forced to think of such matters until they actually became a reality; it was easier that way.
“You say this as if I’m the one with a choice in the matter. Even if I do find that I feel for her, Morgause might not see me in the same light.”
Gwen looked at her like she had gone mad. “If she doesn’t, then she’s a fool. You are the most beautiful Lady in the Kingdom and any man or woman would be lucky to have your affections.” The sentiment warmed Morgana’s heart and she smiled. Covering Gwen’s hand with her own, she squeezed it lightly.
“You are by far the best friend that anyone could ask for, Guinevere. “
Her smile was returned. “Think about it,” Gwen responded as she rubbed her knee encouragingly. “That’s all I’m asking. It might do you well to spend some more time with her. I think you might even enjoy it.”
Perhaps, if she was not constantly finding some way to make a fool of herself. But that possibility seemed slim so Morgana hesitated, although she knew it would probably not be for long.
The pull was too strong to resist.
[x]
“Do you plan to stand there long? You must be getting cold; the wind is holding quite the chill tonight.”
As Morgause did not turn around, she was unsurprised to hear Morgana gasp behind her. She smirked, amused by the reaction she caused. She had felt her sister the moment she had arrived, which was strange because Morgause had never had such an intense awareness of Morgana’s presence before. Their bond had strengthened rather intensely - seemingly overnight - and Morgause knew there had to be a reason for it. It bore at her curiosity as to what had changed; Morgana’s binding spell was still intact for another week, so it could not have been the emergence of her magick.
Morgause turned her head to look at her.
“How long have you known I was there?” Morgana asked, her expression a mixture of curiosity and embarrassment as she peered up at her.
“For about as long as you’ve been there,” Morgause answered honestly, yet did not care to elaborate on how she knew. Despite herself, she did like how Morgana looked at her when she shrouded herself in mystery; it was like her sister had never seen anything more fascinating in her life. Perhaps it was just a way to continue to hold her attention; if she were to be honest, she had a few insecurities in that area. “How long have you been looking for me?”
Morgause found she was restless, so she had gone out for a walk quite some time ago. She finally came to rest at the west end of the city’s walls, where she made the personal challenge to climb it. If the stone had been laid evenly, it would have proven to be a difficult task. Although with a little help from an empty barrel of ale and the fact that it hadn’t rained in nearly a month, Morgause found herself atop it fairly quickly. The view was beautiful and she found it calmed her.
“Not long.”
“No?” Morgause questioned in surprise, wondering if that were really true. Morgana averted her gaze though and she had her answer before her sister even spoke.
“Well not in comparison to… longer things,” she finished lamely. Even in just the light cast by the moon, Morgause could see a blush color her cheeks. She smiled softly, yet tried to hide it. She should probably not enjoy her sister’s nervousness as much as she found she did.
To try to relax her a little Morgause replied with, “Well I’m glad you found me.” She got a smile out of that, which made her feel a little better.
She really should try not to embarrass Morgana so thoroughly, but sometimes she just enjoyed seeing her blush and stumble all over herself. It was a dangerous game to be playing for sure though, so she inwardly chided herself for it. Especially after what Gwen had said to her, she really could not afford to lead Morgana on in any way. It wouldn’t be fair to her, as she did not know their lineage.
“How did you get up there?” Morgana asked after a moment’s silence that allowed her to collect herself. Morgause smirked.
“I climbed.”
“Well I wouldn’t think that you flew,” Morgana responded with a bit of an eye roll. She bit her bottom lip as she looked at the wall. “Show me,” she requested eagerly.
“You expect to climb a wall in a dress?” Morgause replied, laughing softly. She was mad if she believed it could be done; she would not have enough room to move her legs in that.
Morgana, with a bit of a challenge in her eyes, stared right at her as she bent down and with one strong, purposeful motion, ripped the hem up the side of her dress. Morgause raised her eyebrows as she watched Morgana follow with the other side. “Now I do,” she said, putting her hands on her hips in pride of her little achievement.
“Gwen is going to kill you.”
“She’ll understand,” Morgana insisted. “Now show me.” She waved her hand at her impatiently, encouraging Morgause to come down and show her. The elder sister in her obeyed without question, feeling compelled to teach Morgana something, anything. She quickly scaled down the wall.
As Morgause climbed back up - slowly, to show Morgana exactly where she had to step - she found she rather enjoyed being the teacher. All her life it was others who imparted their wisdom on her, and though there wasn’t anything rather special about showing someone how to climb a wall, it still made her feel good to do it.
“Be careful here,” Morgause instructed when she had almost reached the top. “The edge that sticks out is slimmer than the others, so if you do not step on it just right you could fall.” She demonstrated, then hoisted herself all the way up once more to sit atop the wall. She looked down at Morgana. “Now you try.”
Morgana, for all of her determination before, now looked a little nervous at the prospect of falling. “What if I slip?”
“I’ll catch you.”
“But what if you’re not in reach?”
“I’ll catch you.”
Though there was no logic behind the promise that her sister could see, Morgause could tell that Morgana believed her. Her expression held more comfort in the situation than it did previously and she stepped towards the wall.
Morgana was slow, tentative, as she began to climb the wall. Morgause looked down at her, watching her sister’s every move. She meant it when she said she’d catch her… even if it involved using magick. Perhaps it was foolish, but she would rather expose herself early than allow Morgana to get hurt.
As Morgana grew up a Lady of the castle, it was doubtful she was ever allowed to indulge in “boyish” pastimes like climbing and the like. It would have been unbecoming of her. Which was probably why Morgana looked so happy while she did it; she was enjoying the rebellion against her specified gender role. It made Morgause smile.
But it seemed that Morgana was having too much fun and had forgotten her warning, so when she came upon the tricky stone she did not have enough leverage and her foot slipped.
Morgana let out a fearful yelp, but Morgause was quick. She reached for her, but as Morgana had feared she was too far from her. Their fingertips touched and Morgause, afraid for her sister, did not think. Her eyes took on a golden hue as she focused all of her effort into pulling Morgana towards her. As it wasn’t very far it did not take much effort until she had her hand wrapped around her wrist, allowing her to pull her sister up next to her on the wall. Morgana looked out of sorts. Her breathing was heavy and she clung to Morgause as she looked down at the ground, no doubt imagining what it would have been like should she have fallen. Her heartbeat was rapid; Morgause could feel it against her chest.
To calm her, the sorceress ran her fingers through Morgana’s hair as she cradled her. “I told you I wouldn’t let you fall.”
“I…” Morgana started, though seemed to be at a loss of words for a moment. Her fingers tightened their grasp on Morgause’s tunic. “I thought I was going to. You were too far.”
“I wasn’t.”
“I could have sworn that you were.”
Morgause didn’t say anything. She figured it better not to, as Morgana was in shock and she would probably end up second guessing what had happened to have it make more sense in her mind. Morgause did not have to pull her up very far using her magick, so what had happened probably wasn’t as obvious as it could have been should she have had a slower reaction.
After a few moments, the Ward had collected herself. However once Morgana realized where she was, she quickly pulled herself away from Morgause. She looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cling to you like some kind of child. It had just frightened me; I had thought for sure that I was going to fall.”
“It’s alright, I didn’t mind,” Morgause answered. It was the honest truth; Morgana had fit well in her arms, and she had enjoyed being the one allowed to comfort her. “Anyone would have been scared after a close call like that; it would have been unreasonable for me to expect any different from you.”
Morgana chewed her bottom lip, her gaze still connected to the ground. The distance seemed to make her wary. “Now I’m worried about how I’m going to get down,” she admitted softly, as though she felt her concerns were foolish.
“I’ll help you.”
Morgana looked up at her, the soft light of the moon illuminating her face and making her look innocent, angelic. Her green eyes shone with the intense power behind the trust she had for Morgause, and it took the blonde back for a moment. “I know,” she softly responded.
The two sisters held their gaze for much longer than they probably should have, but Morgause could not seem to tear her eyes away. Something had changed in Morgana; though she still was bashful and somewhat nervous around her, her eyes now held a sense of purpose that Morgause found she could not ignore. Therefore it was probably good that it was Morgana who finally broke eye contact first, because Morgause would have probably sat there and stared at her for hours if she hadn’t.
It was so difficult to keep herself from asking what had changed, but she also knew that if Morgana wanted to share, she would. It wasn’t her place to pry; at least not yet.
“I’m turning sixteen in a few days,” Morgana mentioned, looking out at the vast lands that made up Camelot’s kingdom. Morgause however, chose to watch her instead. In her opinion, she was a much more beautiful sight.
“I know.”
Morgana side glanced her, a small smirk forming. “Do you, or are you just pretending to be mysteriously all-knowing so I will continue to be intrigued by you? I’m starting to wonder.”
Morgause raised her eyebrows slightly, a little caught off guard by Morgana’s bold assumption. Though her sister said the words with confidence, she still flushed. It seemed she was not used to being so straightforward either. Morgause liked it though; it felt like Morgana was starting to come out of her shell a little. More importantly, it felt like she was beginning to become more comfortable with her.
She returned the smirk with one of her own. “If I say I know, I know. I wouldn’t lie to you, Morgana.”
Morgana pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows at her response, but did not push the matter. Perhaps she believed Gwen had told her, which seemed plausible, even though it was not how Morgause knew it all. “Well,” she went on, “I was thinking… if, well if you’re not busy…” Morgana’s flustered nature was back and it made Morgause smile. “If you would perhaps like to come? To my party, that is.” She drummed her fingertips on the stone beneath her nervously as she awaited the response.
Morgause hesitated. Of course, if this was any other circumstance, she would accept without a second thought. But Morgause’s plan was to get Morgana out of Camelot before that date, even though it did not seem possible at this point in time. All Morgause could do at this point was hope that when her sister’s powers did emerge, they would trickle out of her instead of explode from her very being. But she had no way to tell and that made her nervous.
“I don’t have anything to wear,” Morgause replied as a way to stall her answer for a moment, still unsure of what she wanted to do. Besides, it was true. She did not pack anything formal for this journey; she didn’t think she would need it.
“I’ll have something made for you.”
Morgause shot her an apprehensive look. “I don’t want to be your charity.”
“You’re not!” Morgana insisted, though probably a bit too forcefully as she blushed once more at her own tone. “I just… well, I just mean that I would…” she sighed softly, though it seemed to be more at herself and how she was acting. She took a short moment to collect herself again before she told Morgause honestly, and even more strongly, “I would really love it if you were there, is all. It wouldn’t be the same without you.”
“You barely know me.”
“I know enough.” She paused, as if she wasn’t sure if she should say the next part. Softer, the words fell from Morgana’s mouth as she purposely avoided eye contact, “And I would like to know more, should you wish to give me the opportunity.”
Morgause chewed on the inside of her cheek. The thought of being inside of Uther’s castle, of possibly having to speak to that wretched, murdering bastard of a man, turned her stomach into knots. But Morgana was insisting, and it was clearly something that would make her happy. Besides, the whole point of this journey was to get her sister to trust her enough to go back with her, where it was safe. How was she to do that if they did not get to know each other a little better? Morgause could not stay this guarded forever; at some point, she needed to take the risk and show Morgana who she really was. So after a moment’s consideration, Morgause consented, “Alright, I’ll come.”
Morgana’s smile lit up her entire face, and Morgause knew then that she had made the right decision, no matter who she would be forced to encounter that night. Such things paled in comparison.
CHAPTER VI
Undesirable Fate
Morgana didn’t know where the courage inside of her had come from, but she found that she was proud of herself come the next day. Morgause still made her nervous and if truth were told, she was still unsure what it was she exactly wanted from the blonde. But because Morgana knew that she wanted - no, that she needed - something from her, she was more than aware that it would never be achieved should she stand back and wait for it to happen. She wanted Morgause to be a part of her life, and so she would do everything in her power to make that a reality. It gave her the boost of confidence that Morgana found she desperately needed.
It frightened her a little though, if she were to be honest, how Morgause made her feel. Morgana had never once taken to anyone, so she was unsure of how it felt. That, coupled with how it would be received if the King ever found out, was the reason Morgana was hesitant to admit it may be something romantic. But she wasn’t thick; she knew she found Morgause attractive. But that could also be something that was obvious to anyone with eyes, and could very well mean nothing at all. Until she was sure, Morgana did not wish to voice anything out loud; that made it so much more real.
Regardless of whether it was romantic or not, Morgana knew it was undeniable that they had a bond of some kind. She knew so little of the world though, so she would never try to assume what that meant. Perhaps it just was what it was.
When Morgana went off to dinner, Gwen headed back to her house to measure Morgause for a dress. Morgana wished she could go with her, but Uther wanted to speak to her about her coming of age party. It was not a topic Morgana wanted to talk about with him, as he was probably going to care more about the suitors that would be coming to Camelot than of her actual happiness, but as he was the King she was forced to oblige.
As expected, not even five minutes into their dinner Uther had mentioned, “Prince Lionel and his father, King Vortigen, will be arriving tomorrow. I expect this time that their stay will be pleasant.” He looked more at Arthur when saying that, making it very clear who he believed the majority of the blame lied with. Arthur looked exasperated by the accusation.
“Father, as I’ve said many times, I did not purposely push him into that pile of manure! He fell,” he stressed the word, as though he actually thought it would make his father believe him. When Uther made up his mind however, there was no changing it. “If Lionel didn’t want to be humiliated, perhaps he shouldn’t have challenged me to a joust. I hardly think I should be held responsible for his own idiocy.”
Morgana quietly smirked into her plate, yet said nothing.
“Be that as it may, he is a potential suitor for Morgana and I do not want you humiliating him any further, is that clear?” Uther’s tone held a warning that Arthur would have been foolish to ignore. Still, the prince scoffed his displeasure.
Meanwhile, Morgana’s face had soured at the word ‘suitor.’ Uther took notice.
“And I expect for you, especially, to keep the visiting prince happy, Morgana. He is the only suitor your own age to have expressed interest, so for your own sake I urge you to keep him interested. Understood?”
Morgana’s mouth dropped open. The only one her own age? She shuddered to think of how old the others were. “Who else has expressed interest?” she asked, probably a bit more forcefully than was acceptable.
Uther, thankfully, had let her tone slide. “King Alined has recently found himself without a wife. He has no sons, so he is quite eager to find someone who can give him some.”
Morgana instinctively gagged at the thought. “But he’s ancient!” How could the king allow that? The possibility of having to sleep with him caused Morgana’s insides to twist violently. How was it fair that she would be forced into such a situation? If she were a man, no one would push an unwanted marriage on her; or any marriage, for that matter! Why was it that her gender condemned her to unhappiness? She hated it.
“Wasn’t he the King who sentenced his last wife to death because she was barren?” Arthur asked, although the question came out as more of a demand. He was quickly becoming angry on Morgana’s behalf. “How could you sentence Morgana to such a fate? If she doesn’t please him, he’ll kill her!”
Morgana shot Arthur an appreciative look, glad that he was on her side. It seemed that nobody else was.
“Both of you, please,” Uther responded, growing frustrated over their behavior. He rubbed his temples, trying to lessen the headache this was causing. “I never said I wished that upon Morgana, nor that I condoned Alined’s laws. However he is an ally of Camelot and therefore I am required to accept his proposal should he ask. If I do not, it could bring a war down on us. We are not equipped to go up against his army; we are still trying to rebuild from the last one we had. We must think of the kingdom.”
Morgana put her head in her hands, covering her face as she tried to steady her breathing. Panic was overtaking her, despite her efforts to stay calm. She could not marry Alined; he was worse than Prince Lionel! The boy was a prat to be sure, but the king was a murderer. Morgana felt as though she were suffocating.
“This is why I am stressing the importance of Prince Lionel,” Uther continued, his gaze shifting between the two of them. “He is by far the best match for Morgana.”
“So I’m to marry Lionel without even feeling for him?” Morgana asked, her voice strained as she forced herself not to cry from frustration. Her heart beating wildly within her chest, Morgana slid her hands down from her face, balling them into fists before they hit the table. No! She couldn’t handle this anymore. “I don’t want to be his princess!” Morgana shouted, desperately trying to make Uther understand. “Why am I not allowed the privilege of at least caring for the man who is to be my husband? Why must this be chosen for me? It isn’t fair!”
“Because that is the way of things, and I will not hear another word about it!” Uther bellowed. The angry look on his face caused Morgana to fall silent immediately. Despite herself, a tear slipped down her cheek. Ashamed at her reaction, Morgana quickly wiped it away. Uther took notice however, and it seemed to soften his heart a little. “Morgana, I know this is not an ideal arrangement for you,” he tried gently, “but you may grow to care for him in time.”
“Unlikely.” It was said underneath her breath, but still heard by the table. She could not look at them. She stared at her plate, finding she had lost her appetite as her heart swelled with sorrow. This was not the life she was meant to lead. She knew that just as she knew she needed air to breathe, but it seemed what was obvious to her went unnoticed by others. It broke her heart.
An uncomfortable quietness followed. The silverware clinked and an awkward cough followed before Arthur finally broke the silence in the room. “Father, I wish to put my name in as a suitor for the Lady Morgana.”
Morgana’s head shot up, her dropped fork clattering against her plate as her eyes widened with shock. “What?” she asked disbelievingly. However Arthur would not look at her; he was staring at his father, awaiting his response. He looked a little embarrassed, but held his composure. Morgana wondered for a half second if he had gone mad.
Uther looked exasperated by the request. “The two of you grew up together as though you were siblings; it would be inappropriate, Arthur.”
“But she’s not actually my sister; the Kingdom knows that. Father, Morgana is respected and loved here; she should not be forced to leave Camelot.”
For how much Arthur could frustrate Morgana, she had never cared for him more than in this moment; he was trying to save her, despite the fact that it would force him into a marriage that may never know love either. They at least cared for one another though, which was a better prospect than any of Morgana’s other suitors. Her heart began to beat erratically in her chest, praying Uther would allow Arthur’s interest; it was her best case scenario.
Unfortunately, Uther would not be swayed. “My answer is no, Arthur; do not push the matter. You are far too young to get married anyhow.”
“Yet I’m not?!” Morgana could not keep herself from shouting as she stood up quite abruptly. The situation was frustrating her to tears and she could not stand it any longer. She pointed at the boy across from her, yet addressed Uther. “Arthur is older than I am!”
“Arthur is to be King one day; his situation is different than yours. I will not allow him to marry until he has taken my place, and if I hear one more word about it I will marry you off to King Alined without even giving Prince Lionel a chance!” Uther threatened. He had always hated his decisions being questioned and had finally lost his patience with her. “Now sit down,” His order was fierce and Morgana fell back into her seat heavily, feeling as though the air had been sucked from her lungs.
Arthur’s expression was apologetic, but it didn’t make Morgana feel any better. She felt as though she had been sentenced to a lifetime of unhappiness and it choked the breath out of her. There had to be another way; Morgana knew she would not be able to survive it if there wasn’t, and that frightened her more than anything else.
[x]
When Gwen had left with her measurements, Morgause had settled in front of the fireplace with a smile on her face. Despite how she thought she would feel, Morgause was excited for her sister’s celebration. While it would have been better if Morgana was able to come back with her and have her birthday with her people, with those who truly cared for and accepted her, Morgause was happy that she would at least be able to share this with her sister for the first time since Morgana was only one year old. She had missed out on so much of Morgana’s life and Morgause was just happy that she was provided with the opportunity to be a part of this special moment in her sister’s life. A girl only becomes a woman once, after all.
The thought of being near Uther Pendragon and being unable to avenge the suffering he had brought upon her people enraged her of course, but Llamrei had always told her to exercise patience, for fighting on pure emotion was a battle forever doomed for failure. Success required thought, planning, and control over one’s thirst for vengeance. It would not do for Morgause to try to assassinate the King of Camelot, although the thought was a tempting one.
Her main concern anyhow was what would happen to Morgana when her binding spell broke that day. Therefore, Morgause couldn’t believe she ever hesitated to come to her birthday celebration, as it would probably be best that if anything should happen she’d be around. If not just to explain to her what was going on, but also to cover it up if need be. She needed to keep Morgana safe, and keeping her sister’s magick a secret was the first step towards protecting her.
A frantic knock on the door interrupted her thoughts and Morgause rose from her spot on the floor to see who was calling at such a late hour.
When she opened the door she was greeted by the sight of her sister in tears. “Morgana!” she exclaimed, worry etching across her features as she instinctively reached for her, gently cradling her cheek in her hand in a gesture of comfort. “What’s happened?”
Morgana seemed surprised that it was Morgause who had answered the door, which made her face color in shame at being seen in such a state. She averted her eyes and pulled away from Morgause, wrapping her arms around herself. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I did not… I just, I had thought Gwen would answer. Is she here…?”
Morgause’s heart saddened that her sister was not yet in a place to confide her fears with her, but it was perhaps foolish to expect otherwise. “She brought my measurements to the seamstress, I’m sure she’ll be back soon.” Morgause pursed her lips, wishing she could do something for her. “Do you want to come inside and wait for her to return?”
“I…” Morgana started, looking past her sister and into the house of her friend. “I don’t wish to disturb anyone. It’s fine, I’ll just-”
“Tom is asleep,” Morgause interrupted, not wanting Morgana to think she would be disrupting anyone. “And I’m happy to look after you until Gwen arrives. Please, come inside.” She stepped to the side, allowing Morgana room to pass through the threshold, should she choose to. It broke her heart to see her sister so distressed and she hoped she would take the offer.
Morgana hesitated for a moment, but after a small sniffle and a look of defeat, she wrapped her cloak tighter around her shoulders and headed inside. Morgause closed the door behind her. Leaning against the oak frame, she took in her sister’s state. What could have upset her so much? Had someone done something to her? If they had, Morgause swore to the Gods that she would do anything in her power to see that they were the one hurting at the end of it all. As unrealistic as it was, Morgause never wanted Morgana to know pain and it killed her inside to see that she did.
“Would you like anything?” Morgause offered, unsure of how to approach the situation without prying into a business that Morgana probably believed was none of her own. “Some water, perhaps?”
Morgana shook her head as she settled down in front of the fire, where Morgause had been not moments previously. “No, thank you.” Her voice was small and she would not look at her. Morgause chewed on the inside of her cheek and after a few seconds hesitation, crossed the room to join her.
She did not say anything as she sat down, but felt as though she needed to do something to show Morgana that she was there for her. Morgause slipped her hand over her sister’s that was resting next to her, covering it protectively. It was a small gesture, but the bond between them strengthened the moment their skin touched. A warmth Morgause had never known filled her and she curled her fingers around her sister’s hand, holding it tightly, hoping that Morgana could feel it too.
She could.
The Ward shuddered slightly at the touch. Morgana’s gaze was locked on to the fire and as the feeling overwhelmed her, more tears began to fall from her eyes. Her breath caught in her throat and she nearly choked as she began to cry harder. She couldn’t stop it. Morgause, the sound of her sister’s sorrow tearing the heart from her chest, did not hesitate. She drew Morgana into her bosom, wrapping her arms around her in a gesture meant to shield her from the world. Morgana clutched at her tunic, burying her face into her neck as though she wished she could do nothing more than fall into her and away from reality. Morgause wished she could let her.
“It’ll be alright,” Morgause whispered. She didn’t know what was wrong, but she was certain that it would be. She would make it be alright, should she need to. She stroked Morgana’s hair, holding her so close she could feel her sister’s unsteady breathing on her neck. “I promise you, Morgana; whatever it is, it’ll be alright…”
Morgana shook her head violently, hiccupping slightly from the force of her tears. She tried to sit up to speak, but could do little more than choke on her sorrow. Morgause cupped her face in her hands, gently wiping her fallen tears away with her thumbs. “Shh,” she hushed softly, “You don’t need to explain right now.”
Morgana looked up at her, her wet lashes darkening the outline of her radiant green eyes. Even through her misery, she looked so beautiful that Morgause’s breath momentarily left her. Another tear had fallen and Morgause wiped it from Morgana’s flushed skin, unable to take her eyes off of her sister. She wanted to tear the world apart to find the source of her pain, but she found she couldn’t move. Morgana searched her eyes for a moment before her face slowly, purposely moved closer to hers, causing Morgause’s heart to jump to her throat. She was frozen, torn between what she so desperately found she wanted in that moment, and what was right and fair to her sister.
It wasn’t this.
But Morgana had stopped herself, just a mere breath away from Morgause’s lips. Her forehead rested against hers and she closed her eyes, her demeanor noticeably deflating from her own lack of courage. Morgause let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding, trying to force herself to not be disappointed.
This was not meant to happen; she had never meant to feel this way. Morgause didn’t even know when it really started, but the realization just then that she felt more for her sister than she should seemed to consume her. She had truly believed, up until now, that Morgana’s crush was one-sided. Yes, she had noticed her own flirtatious demeanor when she was around her, but had thought it was just a game; a way to keep Morgana interested in the façade of mystery that she surrounded herself with, so that when the time came to tell her who she really was, Morgana would find herself more receptive to it since she had desperately wanted to know. Perhaps it was foolish of Morgause, to go about things this way, but there was nothing she could do about it now. She had made her bed, and it was unnerving to realize that she wished Morgana would lie in it with her.
Finally, Morgana spoke. Her voice was soft, broken. She did not open her eyes, perhaps in fear of what she would see in her sister’s gaze. “Has anyone ever tried to force a life on you that you did not want…?”
Morgause pursed her lips. She should have known this was what it would be about; turning sixteen made Morgana eligible for marriage. Morgause should’ve been prepared for what Uther would force on her sister; a union of that magnitude would bring about an unwavering peace treaty between Camelot and one of their neighboring kingdoms. Morgana was a Lady of the Court; it would be expected of her to do so without question, for the good of Camelot. Morgause could understand, whole heartedly, why she was upset about it. That was not her destiny. She knew it, and she believed her sister knew it as well.
“Our fate is what we make it, Morgana,” she responded softly, pulling away from her sister a bit so she could look her in the eye. Morgause gave her a small, supportive smile as she brushed the hair from Morgana’s face. “Not what other’s believe they can force upon you. You control your own life, not the King.”
Morgana wiped the last of her tears from her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. “You know?” she questioned, although she did not sound surprised.
“I guessed.”
Morgana turned her head to look into the fire. The flames danced and crackled, illuminating Morgana’s face in an orange hue that caused her eyes to look dangerously inviting. Morgause had to tear her gaze away from her, so she chose to stare into the fire as well. It was not as distracting as she believed it would be.
“You don’t have to marry him.”
“Which one?”
“Any of them.”
Morgana looked at her, eyes furrowed as she tried to figure Morgause out. “Is that why you’re here?” she asked her, after a long moment’s silence. Confusion masked the blonde’s face, so Morgana continued, “You’re not a commoner. Although you dress like one, the way you hold yourself gives you away. The way you speak, the way you can hold a sword, even your posture suggests you are not what you lead us to believe.”
Morgana paused for a moment as she chewed on her bottom lip, deep in thought as she began to draw a clearer conclusion. Her voice became stronger as her belief in her own theory grew. “You let slip once that you might be a Lady of the Court,” she said, referencing the first time they spoke, “Whoever’s Court that may be. And any Lady is required to be married off for the good of the Kingdom, so I cannot help but wonder if that is why you came here; to avoid that fate.”
Morgause shook her head. “That is not why I came to Camelot.” She let out a slow breath as she leaned back on her hands, turning her gaze once more into the pit of fire before them. She wondered if she should confirm Morgana’s other belief, and quickly came to conclusion that perhaps it would be better if her sister knew. “But you were right about my status,” Morgause admitted, “I am not a commoner.”
“A Lady then?”
“Yes and no.” Morgana’s eyebrows furrowed at the non-committal answer to her question, so Morgause explained, “Yes, my birth status makes me a Lady, and although some people address me as such, it is not the title I identify with.”
Morgana leaned towards her, interest peaked. She could not tear her eyes off of her, as though she would miss some pivotal moment in history should she look away. Morgause could see her out of her peripheral, though tried to keep her body language calm. She knew what question was coming next. “What title do you identify with then?” Morgana asked, the intense curiosity in her voice hard to miss.
There was a long pause. Morgause knew once she said these words, there was no taking them back. But she swallowed her fears and answered, “I am a High Priestess of the Old Religion.”
Morgana froze. Her eyes widened, her lips parted in shock, and she could do nothing else but stare at her in surprise. No one sane would ever admit to that in a place such as Camelot, yet Morgause felt she needed to tell her now so should Morgana need to, she would have someone to come to once her binding spell broke. That is, if she didn’t turn Morgause over to Uther first and have her hanged.
The silence in the air threatened to deafen them both. It was by far the longest and hardest moment in Morgause’s life.
“Have you told anyone else this?” Morgana replied, finally breaking the tension in the air. She seemed worried that Morgause had. In fact, it looked as if the thought positively terrified her.
“No, just you.”
“Good!” The force of the exclamation seemed to surprise even Morgana herself, yet she still grasped Morgause’s forearm with urgency. She was frightened on her behalf. “Do not speak of it to anyone; here, you will be killed for it. Promise me-!”
“Morgana, I know where I am,” Morgause told her, keeping her voice calm to try to instill it in her sister. She covered the hand on her arm with hers, squeezing it gently. “I am not foolish enough to voice it out loud to just anyone.”
Morgana looked at her, her eyes swimming with question. She looked so overwhelmed. “But you told me,” she whispered, as if she only now realized the magnitude of that.
“I trust you.”
It was such a simple answer, yet one said with so much truth. Morgause looked at her sister and knew she could feel the honesty in it. Morgana did not have to confirm that it was a trust given wisely; Morgause saw in her eyes that her sister would not breathe a word of it. She was scared for her, scared of the things that may happen to her should anyone else find out. It was then that Morgause was sure she had made the right decision.
“It’s dangerous for you here,” Morgana told her, her grip on the blonde tightening. Despite Morgause’s efforts to calm her, Morgana still seemed desperate to keep her safe. “You should move on; go to another city where magick isn’t condemned. Please. I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you…!”
“Shh, love,” Morgause hushed, cupping Morgana’s cheek gently in her hand once more. Although she should have, she did not dwell on her choice of address. Instead she softly smiled at her. “I can take care of myself. Please, do not be frightened on my behalf.” She tucked a piece of stray hair behind her sister’s ear and continued, “Besides, I do not plan to stay here long. Once I’ve gotten what I came for, I will leave this place behind.”
Morgana seemed to dishearten at those words. Morgause could understand, since her sister had not yet realized it was her who she had come for. But before Morgana could ask what it was that brought her here, the front door opened.
Both women pulled away from each other as though they had been burned. When they turned towards the door, Gwen’s eyebrows were raised almost to her hairline. Morgause kept her composure, but Morgana blushed furiously and looked away.
“I’m sorry,” Gwen apologized, although she did not sound very sorry at all. In fact, she was smirking. “Did I interrupt something?”
“No, we-” Morgause started, but Morgana broke her train of thought as she quickly stood.
“I was just leaving,” she told Gwen, even though it was clear that she had interrupted something by the rosy hue that colored her all the way to the tips of her ears. She had her head down so that her hair would cover some of it, but it still did her no good. “Goodnight,” she said in parting, before practically running past Guinevere and out the door.
Gwen stared out at Morgana’s retreating form for a moment before slowly turning to Morgause, one eyebrow raised in question. Morgause made every effort not to look embarrassed. “It’s late,” she said, when it was clear that Gwen was waiting for her to explain. But it was not her place, she was Morgana’s friend. Morgause was merely her houseguest, although she did find that she cared for the girl. “Perhaps we should all retire for the night.”
“If that’s what you wish,” Gwen responded, although her tone was much too knowing for Morgause to ignore. Morgana had to have shared some things with her already, if the look on the handmaiden’s face was any indication. But Morgause was already feeling rather foolish for allowing herself to have a sexual attraction to her sister, so she was not up for discussing it. She wasn’t even sure what she should do with it, let alone how she would speak of it.
So after they had bid each other goodnight, Morgause lay down on her cot and tried to think of a way she could rid herself of these feelings. But even as she tried to convince herself that she could merely push them aside, Morgause couldn’t help but think of the way her sister’s breath felt against her lips, the way she fit so perfectly in her arms. The more she thought about it, the more wanton she became; it was like a sickness. It burned her from the inside out, igniting a passion within her that Morgause never believed she would have for another.
Her hand moving of its own accord, Morgause began to touch herself. She had thought perhaps if she could just get it out of her system, then she would no longer have the urge to act upon her feelings.
She couldn’t have been more wrong.
Continued Here...