Fanfiction || To Rescue a Fair Maiden || Morgana/Morgause || Part Four

[cuzimastripper]

Title: To Rescue a Fair Maiden
Author: Sapphire Smoke cuzimastripper
Beta(s): BellaRei713
Fandom: Merlin
Rating: NC-17 for future chapters
Words: 31,826
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 | PART THREE

CHAPTER VII
The Suitors

A High Priestess. It was an impressive title, so much more than just some mere sorcerer. Morgana knew that and despite what she should feel, it impressed her. Amongst her people, Morgause would be akin to royalty. She must be very powerful; that would make her a dangerous enemy, should anyone be foolish enough to cross her. But Morgana could not find it in her fear Morgause; no matter what the King preached about sorcery and the destruction it could cause. Morgause had never done anything to hurt her, or even Camelot in general, although she must have more than enough reason to when it came to the latter.

She was not evil; Morgana could feel it when they touched. Something bad could never feel so warm, so inviting, so utterly and completely captivating. Yes, there were probably sorcerers out there that did dark magick, who plotted to destroy Camelot and everything and everyone inside of it. But Morgause was not one of them. Morgana knew that if anyone here heard her reasoning, they would probably think her naïve. And perhaps she sounded that way, but she knew she wasn’t. Morgause was different; she felt it in her heart.

It did make her wonder however, if there was a way Morgause could help her. Perhaps she could do some spell; make Uther change his mind about marrying her off. That was a dangerous request though. If Morgause was caught, she would be hanged for treason. Morgana did not want her selfishness to condemn the woman she felt so much for, and so she knew she could not ask. Still, she wondered. She couldn’t help it. Morgause said there was a way out and Morgana wished she knew what that was, because right now she felt she would take it in an instant.

Her suitors had come to Camelot. Not just Prince Lionel and King Alined, but another last minute suitor from France; King Edmond, a younger, yet devastatingly unhandsome king who seemed to speak very little English. As Morgana spoke only a minimal amount of French herself, it made conversing with him quite difficult.

Not that it mattered, however. Prince Lionel had taken to following her around like some kind of lost foal, so he did not leave the other suitors much chance to corner her before the celebration. Although he was an attractive boy, his pompous demeanor left much to be desired. He had spent all day regaling Morgana with tales of all his “conquests,” many of which the Ward believed to have been greatly exaggerated, if not made up entirely.

“…The barbarian was twitching beneath me as the blood spilled from his chest, covering my sword with the last of his life,” Lionel continued, his tone dramatic as though he was telling a story of a mythical hero. Perhaps he was, because Morgana had a hard time believing the rail of a boy could take on a barbarian that was ‘as large as a black bear.’ “My knights cheered for me so loudly that the heavens themselves heard their celebration. They opened up, weeping their joy for my glorious victory in the aftermath of his death.”

“Fascinating,” Morgana responded dryly, looking everywhere but at him as she tried to assess her exits. Her eyes landed on the knight’s training in the courtyard and she smirked to herself. Turning towards Lionel, she suggested, “Perhaps you could demonstrate the technique you used to defeat such a formidable opponent for our knights? It seemed rather impressive, and I think our noble army could learn something from your experience.” It took everything in her power to not sound sarcastic. Morgana forced herself to smile sweetly at him, which seemed to make Lionel puff up with pride.

“Of course,” he accepted, looking as though his head would burst from how much it had swelled with self-importance. “I would never turn down an opportunity to pass on my skills. It might very well save some of your knights’ lives later on; save your kingdom, even.”

“Exactly what I was thinking,” Morgana lied sweetly, rising from her seat. This would prove to be amusing, she was sure of it. Bringing the young Prince over to the courtyard seemed to draw some attention and the knights’ stopped their training. Arthur approached them.

“Morgana,” he addressed flatly, a look in his eyes like he knew exactly what she was doing over there.

“Prince Lionel has been regaling me with tales of his victories,” Morgana told him, much too sweetly for Arthur not to see right through. “I had thought it would be pertinent if your knights could learn a thing or two from him while he’s here. He is a very skilled swordsman, after all.”

Lionel’s smile of pride was positively sickening, but Morgana returned it before turning back towards Arthur. She tried to look innocent. It did not work.

“Could I speak with you for a moment?” Arthur requested, even though he did not give Morgana a chance to refuse. He took her by the arm, leading her far enough away from Lionel so they couldn’t be overheard. “You know what my father said,” he told her once they were out of earshot, although the look on his face indicated that he wished Uther had never said anything at all. Arthur hated giving up the chance to best someone.

“I know,” Morgana replied, an apology in her tone. She knew she wasn’t being fair, but she was desperate for some time away from the Prince. “But he’s driving me mad, Arthur. You don’t understand what it’s like to be followed around by someone like him! I just need some space to breathe, please.”

Arthur looked apologetic. “You know I can’t.”

“You can’t, no,” she affirmed. But Morgana had already thought of a solution to that problem and a twinkle of mischief came to her eyes. “But your father never said anything about your knights.”

Arthur paused, thinking this over. He didn’t have to ponder it very long though and after a moment, a smirk crept across his face. “You know, I believe you’re right.”

Morgana beamed.

As Arthur returned to Lionel to inform him that he would allow his “demonstration,” Morgana stood off to the side to watch. While the plan was to get as far away from the prince once she had the chance, she also didn’t want to miss him getting his arse handed to him; she deserved at least one entertaining thing to witness in this disaster of a day, after all. Besides, Lionel would notice if she left right away; better to slip away once he was more distracted. Or, you know, afterwards, when he was injured and in Gaius’ care. That was bound to happen at the end of this little demonstration anyhow.

As she sat down in the grass, Morgana could see some of the knights trying not to laugh at Lionel’s description of what he was about to show them, complete with dramatic hand gestures and amusing sound effects. Oh yes, this would definitely put on a good show.

“My Lady?”

Morgana turned her head, shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand. “Gwen!” she greeted cheerfully, now that she finally had something to be happy about. She gestured for her to take a place next to her. “Sit with me; you’re not going to want to miss this. Prince Lionel is about to demonstrate something to our knights.”

Gwen chuckled as she took a seat next to Morgana on the grass. “Oh, dear…” She shook her head, knowing this was all her mistress’s doing. “You do know the King will be furious, don’t you?”

Morgana shrugged, uncaring as she turned back towards the scene in front of her. Arthur had just tossed him a sword so he could demonstrate and Lionel failed to catch it. The knights laughed heartedly at his expense and the young prince’s ears had turned pink. “He said Arthur couldn’t do it; it’s hardly our fault he didn’t specify the knights’ involvement,” she replied with an air of innocence.

Gwen quirked an eyebrow at her, though looked amused despite the need to caution her. Deciding not to push the matter, she changed the subject. “The seamstress finished with Morgause’s dress.”

Morgana’s head turned away from Lionel’s desperate need to prove himself and towards her maidservant. The motion was so quick it made her a little dizzy. “What does it look like?” she asked, as though this was some deep matter of emergency. But it was Gwen, so she didn’t really care how ridiculous she might sound. “Has she tried it on? How does it fit? Does she like it?”

Gwen laughed at her eagerness. “Be careful, my Lady,” she teased quietly, “With an interest like that, you might realize you’re actually quite taken with her, despite what you’ve been trying to convince yourself.” Although her cheeks turned a bit pink, Morgana still rolled her eyes to try to downplay it.

“I’m not trying to convince myself of anything anymore,” she admitted, albeit a little defensively. Morgana hated feeling foolish, yet the admission of being wrong was doing that job rather well. “I know how I feel. After I nearly…” she stopped herself, unable to say the words out loud. Even quietly, someone might overhear them. “Well, I would have to be rather thick to continue living in denial after that.”

Morgana hadn’t really expected to want to kiss her; she had convinced herself there must’ve been another reason she felt so much for Morgause, but perhaps she was naïve to ever believe it could be anything but the obvious. The knowledge that she was different than most scared her, but Morgana didn’t wish to deny it any longer; it was what it was and it would do her no good if she did not learn to accept it. She couldn’t help who she felt for, just as much as she couldn’t help which way the wind blew.

But knowing what she wanted and being able to go through with it were two very different things.

“After you nearly…” Gwen prodded, yet quickly realized that Morgana didn’t finish her sentence because she was afraid to speak it aloud. So instead the handmaiden mouthed silently behind her hand, ‘Kissed?’ She probably didn’t need Morgana’s confirmation, as she flushed head to toe at her guess, yet the Ward nodded her answer anyhow. Gwen’s eyes went wide, looking positively excited on Morgana’s behalf.

But then her face fell. “Oh no,” she groaned, sounding apologetic as she realized why it may not have happened. “I didn’t interrupt it, did I? I was just teasing you when I said that; I didn’t really think that I was-!”

“No, no it wasn’t you,” Morgana insisted, shaking her head. She sighed softly as she leaned back on her hands, looking back out at the knights’ training grounds. Lionel was dueling with Sir Leon and looked as though he were seconds away from losing a limb for it. “I don’t know, I guess I just lost my nerve,” she admitted, feeling disappointed with herself.

She had wanted so badly to feel Morgause’s lips against hers, to fall away from reality and into the comfort of her embrace. Morgana was certain she had never wanted anything more in her entire life. But she was afraid; afraid that Morgause might not feel the same way, afraid that even if she did, someone would find out and tell the King. Morgana had believed stopping herself was the right thing to do, but now her heart weighed heavy with regret.

The knights’ training area erupted in a loud cheer and Morgana’s attention was diverted. Covering her mouth, she stifled a laugh at the scene before her. Lionel was lying on the ground seemingly knocked unconscious by Sir Leon, who was looking particularly pleased with himself. “Fetch Gaius,” Morgana requested to Gwen, “It seems our visiting prince is going to need his attention.”

Despite how horrible it may be to laugh at Lionel’s expense, Morgana couldn’t help but take joy in it. She was finally allotted the freedom to wander off for a few hours, and she knew exactly who it was that she wanted to see.

[x]

“Ride with me,” she had said, and Morgause did not hesitate for a moment.

Morgana had allowed her to take the lead. With the Ward’s arms tightly wrapped around her, the wind in their hair and the sun on their backs, they rode out of Camelot and into the surrounding forest. Morgana hadn’t even told her why she needed to get out of there so badly yet Morgause obliged without question, the urge to please her sister so intense that it warranted neither explanation nor thought.

They came across a lake with water as dark as night, despite the blazing sun overhead. Morgana looked out at it in awe, noting its unconventional beauty. Morgause agreed, although she wasn’t paying much attention to the scenery. Morgana was holding on to her in such a way that did not leave much room for interpretation; her fingers were toying with the hem of Morgause’s tunic, her head resting softly against a bed of blonde hair as she looked out at the forest. Morgana’s light breath was tickling the back of her neck, nearly driving Morgause to madness.

Pleasuring herself that night was supposed to sate her desire, yet it only managed to intensify it. Everything Morgana did now seemed to tease her, so it took an incredible amount of effort for Morgause to keep her tone normal when she suggested, “Perhaps we should stop here, rest for awhile?”

Morgana smiled as she leaned a little further into her sister’s back. “I would like that.” Her tone was low, quite possibly because she felt like she didn’t want to disturb the peaceful nature of the lake, but to Morgause it sounded as though she were trying to entice her. To distract herself from doing anything foolish, Morgause quickly dismounted the horse.

She really needed to get a grip on reality, for both of their sakes.

Extending her hand, she helped Morgana off the steed. The brunette slid off easily, landing gracefully on her feet. She smiled her thanks to Morgause for the help, yet did not let go of her hand. Instead, her fingers wove between Morgause’s, holding it even tighter. She flushed a little at her own boldness, but lightly tugged on her hand to lead her over to the lake. “Come on,” Morgana requested. Morgause could do nothing but follow her lead.

They sat in the grass just a few paces in front of the lake. It was a clear day and the light breeze from the north made the afternoon’s heat more bearable. “I had to get out of there,” Morgana finally explained, letting go of Morgause’s hand to smooth out the wrinkles in her dress. She looked a little self-conscious, as though she felt running away from her problems was shameful. “My suitors are in Camelot and Prince Lionel was barely giving me room to breathe.”

“What about the others?” Morgause asked, wondering why there was only one who was fighting for her eye. If she were a suitor, she would constantly be vying for the young Ward’s attention. Morgana was the most beautiful woman that Morgause had ever seen; in a world shrouded in darkness, she was pure radiance. Anyone should feel privileged to court her.

Morgana shrugged. “I don’t think they care to get to know me. I’d be a trophy, nothing more.” She pursed her lips for a moment before glancing over at the blonde. “I know I should probably be thankful that Lionel is trying so hard to win me over, but the thought of marrying him turns my stomach. He’s a pompous arse, honestly. I can’t bear the thought of dealing with that the rest of my life.”

“You don’t have to.”

Morgana chewed on the inside of her cheek, obviously not very convinced by Morgause’s words. The sorceress understood that it might seem like a radical idea to her sister, leaving everything she had ever known behind to find freedom, but Morgause wanted her to know she had the option. She rested her hand on Morgana’s leg, trying to comfort her with the gesture. Morgana looked at it for a long moment before covering it with her own. The warmth that spread over Morgause from her sister’s touch made her heart skip a beat.

“I’m not like you,” Morgana told her softly, staring at their linked hands. “I’m not powerful enough to change my own destiny.”

“Yes, you are.”

Morgause’s words were said with such strength and conviction that Morgana looked up at her, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. “How?” she asked. “I don’t have magick.”

Morgause smiled patiently at her. “You don’t need it. “ Her sister was still so young; of course she saw Morgause as more powerful because she had magick. But even if Morgana’s binding spell wasn’t about to break tomorrow, she would still be powerful enough to change her own destiny. She was strong, independent; she was a Le Fay. “You only need the courage and determination to do what’s best for you. If you don’t want to be a slave to your title, Morgana, don’t be. It truly is as simple as that.”

Morgana fell silent for a moment, thinking about what she had said. Morgause did not expect her sister to come to a conclusion about what it was that she wanted right then though, so she was unsurprised when Morgana changed the subject. “Why is it like that?” she asked, gazing out at the picturesque scene before her. “The lake. It’s as black as night.”

Morgause’s eyebrows rose. “You don’t know what it is?” Morgana shook her head. Morgause was surprised; she would have thought the King would have cautioned her about coming here, as it was a place of magick. She probably should have known that he did not however, since Morgana suggested they stop there. “That’s the Pool of Nemhain, one of the five gateways to the spirit world.”

Morgana’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Morgause nodded, leaning back on her hands to look out at the blackness of the water. “It is said that if you cast a coin into the lake, you can raise the dead.” She watched her sister from her peripheral, who seemed to sit up even straighter at those words.

“Uther had always cautioned us from traveling too far west, but I assumed it was because of the Druids that still reside in our forests,” Morgana replied, looking out at the lake in awe. Morgause smiled, pleased that magick seemed to fascinate her sister; it would make things easier when her powers emerged. Despite the uncertainty that surrounded that event, Morgause was excited for her sister to learn who she was. She just hoped Morgana would be able to without anyone else in Camelot taking notice.

“The Druid’s camp lies farther west than this,” Morgause told her, nodding in the direction of them. She had passed through there on her way to Camelot, and out of the kindness of their hearts they had provided her with food and shelter for a few nights. “But I doubt your patrol could ever find them, should they try. Druids know how to easily conceal themselves from anyone who does not have magick.”

Morgana chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, still looking out at the lake. Morgause didn’t know if her sister had even heard her; she looked lost in thought. Finally she questioned, “Could you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Raise the dead.”

Morgause’s face masked in sympathy as she realized why Morgana was asking. “I could,” she confirmed. She paused momentarily before finishing regretfully, “But I won’t.” Morgana’s face fell as she turned to her, confusion and hurt in her eyes. She had probably assumed that Morgause would do her this favor, but she had no idea what she was really asking for.

“Why not?”

“Because what would come out of there would not be your mother,” Morgause told her softly, feeling remorseful as she gently tucked a piece of hair behind her sister’s ear. Vivienne was her mother too and it pained Morgause’s heart that she could not bring her back. “She would be a Shade, merely a puppet to the one who resurrected her. You would be condemning her to an eternity of slavery and unrest should you bring her back. I know you don’t want that for her.”

Morgana looked sorrowful, but nodded in agreement as she stared at her hands. It must have been hard, to have such hope for a moment, only to have it come crashing down in an instant. “I just miss her,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. After a moment Morgana shook her head, looking as though she felt foolish for asking Morgause to do that for her. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be,” Morgause hushed, pulling her sister towards her to wrap her in a comforting embrace. She hated seeing Morgana so sad, it tore her up inside. The Ward buried her face in her neck, allowing Morgause to stroke her hair. They fit so well together that Morgause hated that she ever had to let her go. “You didn’t know what you were asking. I don’t blame you for wanting to bring your mother back; any child would want that.”

Morgana nodded, the movements making it feel as though she was nuzzling into her. Morgause inhaled an unsteady breath, trying to keep herself focused. She was doing this to comfort her sister, nothing more. She had to remember that. Still, she allowed her hand to run down the length of Morgana’s back, not wanting to let her go just yet. Morgana shuddered beneath her touch and Morgause’s breath shallowed at the feeling of her sister’s vulnerability.

“You said that you were leaving,” Morgana mentioned. Her soft breath tickled Morgause’s neck, eliciting goose pimples all the way down her spine. “When…?” She sounded so terribly upset over the possibility and it broke Morgause’s heart. She wished she could tell her that she wasn’t going to leave without her, but it was too soon.

“I don’t know.” Morgause’s voice was no more than a breathy whisper, as if she was afraid of disturbing this moment with sound. She wrapped her arms tighter around her sister, feeling the warmth from Morgana’s body ignite a fire within her veins. “Soon, I hope.”

Morgana closed her eyes, burying her head even father into the crook of Morgause’s neck, as though she were trying to block out reality. She stayed there for a while until finally exhaling a heavy breath, raising her head to look up at her sister. Her eyes searched Morgause’s and the sorceress could almost see Morgana trying to gather up her courage to say what she felt she needed to express. Morgause stayed silent, waiting patiently for her sister’s words as she continued to lightly run her fingers over the back of Morgana’s hand.

“What if I asked you not to go?”

Despite the need to suppress her feelings, Morgause’s heart swelled at her sister’s words. She reached out, overwhelmed by the feeling, gently cupping Morgana’s cheek. There was something so utterly perfect about her. “I would ask why,” she responded softly, although she was sure she already knew the answer. Part of her needed to hear it though, needed to know if what she believed was true. Her thumb dusted across Morgana’s jaw line, unable to tear herself away from the beauty in front of her. It was as though time had stopped around them.

“You know why.”

Morgana’s answer was barely audible, fear suppressing its volume. Morgause didn’t know what to do. She knew what she wanted to do, but what she wanted and what was best for them were two different things. The seconds stretched onwards and Morgause knew that Morgana needed an answer. As she was unsure of her words, she cupped the back of her sister’s neck and brought her closer to her, gently kissing the top of her forehead.

“I will always be there for you, should you need me,” she breathed, the right words finally coming to her. Morgana closed her eyes, feeling the honesty in the blonde’s promise.

It was the best Morgause could offer her at the moment.

Morgana was her sister, her blood; of course she would be there for her. She was her only living family, the closest person to her heart and Morgause knew that being by her side would be the only place she could ever call home. She wouldn’t leave Camelot without Morgana, not for anything. Morgause wished she could just tell Morgana who she really was, but the words seemed to stick in her throat; she feared Morgana would be angry with her for leading her on, should she know the truth.

Because of this, Morgause decided it would probably be better to not reveal who she was until after Morgana was out of Camelot. Her sister’s safety was her first priority and when her powers emerged, the safest place would be with her own kind, on the Isle of the Blessed, far from Uther Pendragon’s reach.

She just hoped that, when the time came, Morgana would come with her.

CHAPTER VIII
The Disturbing Dream

Screaming. There was so much screaming. Was it coming from her? Fear was gripping Morgana’s chest as she tried to reach out towards Morgause, but she was too far away. “Run!” Morgana yelled, “They’re coming! Run!”

Despite Morgana’s pleading, the blonde kept rooted to the spot, determination in her eyes as she stared straight into Morgana’s soul. The world around them seemed to blur, but the sounds of death grew nearer. They frightened Morgana to her very core. She tried to scream out to Morgause again, but found she was being pulled backwards. It felt as though she was being torn from the other half of her heart and the most intense pain she had ever known burned through her veins, threatening to devour her whole.

“My Lady?”

Morgause was fading into the distance and she knew she had to do something. “Gwen, help her!” she begged as her throat constricted. Was she suffocating? She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think. She heard her, she heard her friend somewhere, but she couldn’t see her. Morgana screamed as Morgause faded into nothing. “Please! Please! Morgause…!”

Something was burning. The light from the flames danced across her features, illuminating her pain for all the world to see. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. “Morgause!” she screamed once more, the heat from the fire becoming overwhelming. She choked on her tears, feeling as though she were falling.

“My Lady!”

Who was touching her?! Morgana needed to get them off; they would take her, just as they took Morgause. No, no she wouldn’t let them! She would live, she had to live; she had to save her!

“Morgana!”

The Ward was shaken so hard that it tore her from her dreams. Morgana sat up straight, a scream falling from her lips as she tried to fight off the hands that held her. “Bring her back!” she screamed at her unknown assailant, feeling the tears beginning to fall from her eyes. “She’s innocent! She’s mine!” She could barely breathe and her voice came out as a strained whisper.

“Morgana, it’s me! You were dreaming; its okay, you were just dreaming!” Gwen tried, looking distressed over her mistress’s state as she tried to keep her from thrashing. “Breathe! It’s alright!”

Reality began to flood back to Morgana and it startled her so badly that she stopped moving completely, eyes widening as she looked around the room in fear. She was slick with sweat, her heart beating erratically in her chest. Dreaming? It felt too real to be a dream. She could still feel the hands on her, pulling her away from Morgause. Or had that always been Gwen?

She had to know.

Fearful that she had just left Morgause alone to die, Morgana practically flew out of bed. She stumbled, not quite awake yet. “Where is she?” she demanded. “Did they take her?!” Morgana got to the window in record time, looking out at the courtyard to see if reality was what she believed it to be.

“Morgause…?” Gwen questioned, trying to guess what had scared her friend so. “She’s at my house, working on something with my father.” Morgana didn’t reply. She was looking out at the courtyard as her eyes darted every which way, looking like a trapped animal. Gwen moved to her side, trying to comfort her. “Morgause is safe, my Lady; it was just a bad dream. Do you understand what I’m saying?” she questioned, worried that she wasn’t getting an answer. She tentatively reached out to touch her arm, trying not to startle her. “It was just a dream, Morgana…”

Morgana was shaking from head to toe. Gwen covered her hand with her own protectively and Morgana looked down, reality becoming clearer as more time passed. A dream; it was just a dream. Oh God, it felt so real though. She was certain it had been and she had never, in her whole life, been so fearful that her nightmares were truth before. Was lucid dreaming a part of growing older, because if so Morgana wanted nothing to do with it.

“It was a dream,” she repeated, trying to make Gwen’s insistence sound true. Even still, it sounded like she was lying to herself. But it couldn’t be true, could it? Gwen told her Morgause was safe. She was safe.

“Yeah,” Gwen affirmed, furrowing her eyebrows as she looked at her sympathetically. “You’re shaking. Come on, maybe you should sit down for a moment.” She tugged on her hand, encouraging Morgana to come back to bed. She obliged without question, still feeling rather dazed.

Morgana sat heavily, her head feeling foggy. She brushed her hair back from her face and found she was covered with sweat. She felt awful. “What time is it?” she asked after a moment, noting how bright it was outside. How long had she been sleeping?

“Early afternoon,” Gwen responded. She rubbed her friend’s back soothingly, trying to calm her. “I was worried when I didn’t see you all morning; you usually don’t sleep this late.” She put her hand to Morgana’s forehead, feeling her temperature. “Are you getting sick?”

“I hope not.”

Gwen felt her head for a few more moments, then let her hand fall back to her lap. “You don’t feel warm,” she noted, although still looked concerned. “Are you sure you’re up for the celebration tonight?”

Her birthday; Morgana had almost forgotten that she turned sixteen today. What a way to start off the day, wasn’t it? She felt positively ill.

“I have to be,” she told her, trying to pull herself together. Now that she had a firmer grip on reality, she didn’t feel as dizzy. “Everyone’s here; Uther won’t put it off just because I’m feeling a little under the weather.” Her handmaiden continued to look worried though, so Morgana forced a smile. “I’ll be fine, Gwen. I promise.”

Gwen looked unconvinced, but relented. “Alright.” She smiled encouragingly at her. “Well, let’s get you washed up, shall we? Perhaps you’ll feel better after a long, hot bath.” Morgana nodded; that sounded like heaven right now. After having horrible dreams and incessant night sweats, she felt thoroughly dirty.

Morgana prayed the water would help wash the nightmare from her mind as well, but she knew that was a foolish thing to hope for. Something that frightening would probably be with her for a long, long time and despite wishing she could forget about it, a part of Morgana was screaming at her to remember every single detail and she wished she knew why.

[x]

It had been quite some time since Morgause had worn a dress and she almost didn’t recognize herself. She had always favored practicality over appearance, but as she looked at her reflection in the mirror, Morgause decided that she should probably wear garments like this more often. She had never really given much thought to her own attractiveness, but right then she thought she looked beautiful and the feeling made her smile.

The silken material hung to every curve, the deep red complimenting her ivory skin tone. Gwen had chosen the color for her and Morgause had to admit that she was pleased. Especially once Morgana caught sight of her a few moments later; the reaction her sister had was more than enough confirmation for the young sorceress that she was indeed as beautiful as she felt.

Mostly because it seemed like Morgana’s brain had lost all function.

The Ward was conversing with what Morgause could only assume was one of the suitors when she made her way into the throne room. The blonde entered tentatively, constantly on guard now that she was inside of King Uther’s castle. While she was here as a guest, she was still a newcomer to the city and that would draw attention. That could prove to be dangerous should she not tread carefully, so she opted to keep her head down. Morgause felt out of place without Gwen or Morgana at her side and she hoped it didn’t show. It seemed not to, or perhaps it was the fact that Morgana looked so breathtakingly beautiful in her emerald green gown that no one could take their eyes off of her.

That proved to not be the most preferable thing for Morgana however, when her eyes landed on Morgause and she quite literally tripped all over herself at the sight of her.

Arthur’s reflexes were quick and he caught Morgana before she landed on the ground. “Are you alright?” he asked, concerned. From where Morgause was standing it looked as though Morgana’s knees had buckled from under her and as she tried to regain her footing by taking a step back, she tripped on the hem of her dress. Morgana’s face was bright red as she realized all eyes in the room were on her and she nodded, allowing Arthur to steady her.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, looking thoroughly embarrassed, “I guess I got a little lightheaded. I’m fine now, I assure you.”

“C'est pourquoi les femmes ne devraient pas boire du vin,” the man she was speaking with before said, his tone condescending as he looked at Morgana with distaste. “Elles ne peuvent pas le manient.”

“Ce n'était pas le vin!” Morgana sharply responded. As Morgause did not speak French, she was unsure of what had aggravated her sister so, but it made the King rise from his throne and make his way over to the scene they had caused. He pulled Morgana away from prying ears, no doubt to lecture her about proper behavior in front of the suitors.

The sight of Uther Pendragon daring to touch the thing most precious to her made the pit of Morgause’s stomach burn with an uncontrollable rage. Llamrei had always cautioned Morgause about her anger, and rightly so. The ground beneath their feet began to tremor slightly, causing concerned cries to echo through the throne room. Realizing that it was she who was doing it, Morgause turned away from Morgana and Uther and focused on calming herself before it got any worse. If she didn’t stop herself, she could bring the ceiling down on all of them.

The tremors stopped.

“It was merely the earth shifting,” Uther assured the worried guests after he left Morgana’s side. “There’s nothing to be concerned about; it happens every few years.” He smiled at them, but then shot Arthur a pointed look before bringing him away from the festivities to talk privately out in the hall.

Morgause could not help but feel worried that Uther might suspect magick was at play, even though she had heard of the earth shifting of its own accord from the elders. Perhaps such a thing had never happened in Camelot before though, which made Morgause internally chastise herself over being so careless. She may have just put herself in danger.

She did not have much time to dwell on it however; Morgana had taken the opportunity of the unexplained phenomenon to get away from those who wished to court her, so she could do some courting of her own.

“You look…” she began softly, eying Morgause from head to toe as she tried to assess the proper word for how she felt. “Stunning. Your beauty takes my breath away, Morgause.” Morgana’s gaze made the pit of the blonde’s stomach burn with need, her loins aching for the one thing she swore to herself she could not have. It was maddening. It was delicious. It was pure torture, yet Morgause could not help but savor every moment of it.

“You flatter me, my Lady,” Morgause responded, tearing her eyes away from her sister so she did not do something foolish. She wanted to reach out and touch her, but it would have been a moronic thing to do when there were so many witnesses around. “But I believe it is your radiance that could bring entire kingdoms to their knees; I fear I pale in such a comparison.”

Morgana’s breath caught in her throat. She took a step towards her, her hand reaching out for her before she realized where she was. She let it fall back to her side. “Words cannot express how happy I am that you came tonight,” she told her after a moment, emotion swimming behind her emerald eyes. “Your presence is the greatest gift I could receive.” Morgause’s heart pounded in her chest.

“I would not miss it for the world.”

Morgana chewed lightly on her bottom lip as she smiled. Morgause noticed that a few eyes had turned in their direction however, so she took a step back from her sister and tried to change the subject. She didn’t wish to be the cause of any harmful rumors. “What did that man say that upset you?”

“Oh, um,” Morgana stumbled, seemingly taken off guard by the quick change of subject and mood between them. “Something about women and wine. I didn’t understand all of it, but it seemed rather rude. I haven’t even had anything to drink yet!”

Her eyes shifted as she noticed someone making their way over to them. Morgana quickly became exasperated. “But perhaps I should start,” she muttered beneath her breath. She shot Morgause an apologetic look. “Excuse me for a moment.”

Morgana moved from her sister’s side to try to side step the boy who was clearly trying to get her attention and though she managed to get lost in the crowd momentarily, he still ended up catching up to her at the refreshments table. Morgause watched Morgana consume nearly a full glass of wine in one gulp and she smirked to herself, understanding; that must be Prince Lionel.

While Morgana was temporarily trapped by the visiting prince, Morgause began to weave through the guests to try to find Gwen. She spotted her entering the throne room with a few other servants, their hands full with platters of hors d'oeuvres. Morgause smiled as she approached and once Gwen noticed her, it was returned in kind.

“Morgause!” Gwen greeted warmly, putting the silver platter down on the table before reaching out to firmly clasp her hands. “You look amazing; that color suits you well.”

“The thanks should go to you then, for choosing it,” Morgause replied appreciatively. She furrowed her eyebrows as she took in what Gwen was doing, however. “You’re serving the party?” she questioned. It didn’t seem like her sister to have her friend working on her day of celebration.

Gwen shook her head though. “The King would not allow me to come as a guest,” she explained in a low voice, so as to not be overheard voicing her displeasure with the King’s decision. “He said it would give the wrong impression. Morgana was furious with his disapproval, but there was nothing she could do.”

Morgause’s face darkened at the mention of Uther. Of course it was him who would have Gwen serve instead of allowing her to enjoy her friend’s birthday. He would never deem anyone without a title important, after all.

Gwen shrugged lightly as she took to rearranging things on the mahogany surface to look more aesthetically pleasing. “I don’t mind, honestly. I’m just glad to be here. Besides,” she smirked lightly, “I know how Morgana likes things; it would probably bother me immensely should I have seen anyone doing it the wrong way.”

“I appreciate how much you take care of her, Guinevere,” Morgause responded with honesty. “She is very lucky to have a friend like you.” The maidservant smiled at her words.

“Did you and my father finish with Morgana’s gift?” Gwen asked after she had finished rearranging the table the way she liked it. Morgause smiled, nodding. That was why she was late; she wanted her gift to be perfect before presenting to her sister. Tom was so helpful in achieving that and Morgause was very grateful. “Have you given it to her?”

“Not yet,” Morgause answered, her eyes searching the crowd to land on her sister. She was dancing with Lionel now, but seemed displeased about having to do so. “It seems to be a difficult task; fighting for your mistress’s attention.”

“I’m sure if she had a choice, Morgana would be by your side the entire night.”

Morgause pursed her lips, glancing back over to Gwen. She knew that were true, yet chose not to comment about her feelings on the matter. Her eyes landed on Morgana and Lionel once more, a fierce jealousy burning in her heart. She so wished she could be the one privileged enough to dance with her.

“Here,” Gwen said, a note of sympathy in her voice as she held out a glass of wine. “You look as though you may need it.”

Morgause felt foolish that she allowed her feelings to show on her face, yet took the offering from Gwen. She was right; she did need it. “Thank you,” she replied quietly. Morgause forced herself to tear her eyes away from Morgana, knowing it would do no good to continue to torture herself. There was nothing she could do about it, after all.

“You should ask her to dance.”

Morgause raised an eyebrow at the maidservant’s suggestion. “You know I cannot do that.”

“I didn’t mean here,” Gwen told her, as though that should have been obvious. “But if you wish to have some time alone with her, I could arrange that. I just think it would make Morgana happy, to be able to dance with the one person she actually wants to on her birthday.”

It was obvious her words had an effect on Morgause. All she wanted was to make Morgana happy, and if Gwen’s suggestion would then she would be happy to do so. Besides, she would be lying if she said she didn’t crave a moment alone with her sister. Whether that was smart or not, Morgause did not know, but it would be foolish of her to pass up the opportunity should she get it.

“If you could manage that, I’d be grateful.”

Gwen smiled. “Give me a moment,” she said before moving her way through the crowd. Morgause watched her for a moment, but before she could see what Gwen had planned, someone spoke from behind her.

“I do not believe we’ve met.”

Morgause turned, coming face to face with Arthur Pendragon. She tried to keep her face neutral, although it worried her that the young prince had sought her out. She had meant to blend in and clearly was not doing a very good job of it. “Morgause, your Majesty,” she introduced. The great amount of effort it took to not sound spiteful when she spoke to him was overwhelming. “I am the houseguest of your blacksmith.”

“And a friend of Morgana’s,” he noted. It was an assumption, not a question that Morgause would have preferred. She nodded anyway, knowing it would be useless to deny it.

“She has been very kind to me.”

“Morgana and Gwen are close; I suppose it would only be expected that she treat Gwen’s houseguest with the same amount of kindness that she shows her,” Arthur responded. Morgause did not like the way he was speaking to her; it was as though he were trying to figure her out. It made her anxious. But his tone changed almost immediately, as though he realized that Morgause knew exactly what he was doing. “Enjoying yourself?” His tone was much too casual now for the change to go unnoticed by the sorceress.

Morgause played the part of a grateful commoner, finding that it would probably be the best way to keep herself safe from more questions. “Very much so. I could hardly believe when I received the invitation; I have never seen anything more grand.”

“Not even in Mercia?”

Morgause noticeably froze. She hadn’t expected that. Of course it was probably foolish of her to not see it coming; she was brought to Camelot by two of Arthur’s knights, after all. They would have reported back to him.

“It seems you know much about me, for never giving me the privilege of your conversation before,” she said, using flattery with the hope that Arthur wouldn’t take note of her hesitation.

“My knights had said they escorted a woman from Mercia to Camelot; as you are both a newcomer and a woman, I had just assumed.” Arthur hesitated for a moment, seemingly torn between what he was here to do and saying what was right. “I am glad you found a home in our city,” he told her, actually sounding sincere. The entire mood in the conversation shifted quite suddenly once more and it took Morgause back for a moment. “And if it’s any consolation, I am very sorry for the tragedy that King Odin brought upon your lands. The lives that were lost will be avenged, I promise you.”

Morgause did not expect such compassionate words from the offspring of the ruthless Uther Pendragon. Perhaps Arthur was not like his father, even though he was obviously here to do his bidding. It frightened her a little, that the King was interested in where she had come from. But to look at it another way, if the King wanted to know who she was and why she was here, that meant he had yet to figure out that she was Morgana’s sister. That meant she had time and should she play this right, she could buy herself even more.

“That is very kind of you, your Majesty,” Morgause responded, bowing her head slightly with gratitude. “It warms my heart that Camelot cares so much for the wellbeing of its common people.”

Arthur looked pleased by Morgause’s assessment of his city. But before he could respond, he was interrupted by Morgana. “I need you!” she exclaimed, practically running up to them. However she stopped once Arthur turned around and she flushed, not realizing who Morgause had been talking to. “Help, I need your help,” she stumbled, all too aware now of how her previous plea sounded.

“My Lady?” Morgause questioned, eyebrows rising at her sister’s state. The whole front of her dress was now covered with a dark stain that she was desperately trying to hide with her hands.

“Stand in front of me?” she requested. She didn’t wait for an answer though and quickly hid herself behind Morgause’s body, hoping no one would notice her embarrassment that way.

Arthur looked amused at the Ward’s predicament. “You know, you’re supposed to drink the wine, Morgana, not wear it.”

Morgana shot him a scathing look. “You’re so hilarious,” she deadpanned before turning her attention to Morgause.

“Some drunken fool ran into me and spilt his drink all over my dress,” she explained, looking a little frantic about the state of her attire. Morgana began speaking faster, indicating her desperation, “I’d normally get Gwen to help me, but something set fire in the kitchens and she had to help save the dinner so if you have a minute could you please, please help me try to get this out? It’s my favorite dress and I don’t want it ruined; I’d be forever grateful.”

Arthur outright rolled his eyes at Morgana’s ‘emergency’, but she ignored him. Morgause did too. “Of course, my Lady; whatever I can do to help,” she responded diplomatically, for Arthur’s sake. She did not want him to know how friendly the two of them were.

Morgana breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” She turned then to Arthur, laying down more groundwork for their excuse to get away together for a moment. “If the King inquires as to my whereabouts, will you explain to him what happened and tell him I will not be long?”

“Fine, but if you can’t get it out then just change, Morgana,” Arthur replied, looking a little perturbed about being the messenger. “This is your party; it would look bad should your absence be noted by certain people.”

“I know that,” Morgana replied, a tad exasperated at being lectured by the prince. She didn’t give him a chance to respond though; she was already tugging on Morgause’s arm, encouraging her to follow. “Come on, we need to be quick,” Morgana said before leading the sorceress out of the throne room and down the hallway.

Morgause followed without a word, unsure of where Morgana was taking her. It didn’t really matter though, because as Morgana wove their fingers together and looked back to smile at her, Morgause realized she would probably follow her to the ends of the earth anyway.

Continued Here