fic: That Which Does Not Concern You
Title: That Which Does Not Concern You
Pairing/Character: Merlin/Morgana
Rating: R [that's a safe bet]
Warnings: There's torture and slight degrading and fire and blood so. Enter at your own risk. I'm serious.
Prompt: Fire
Link to Table?
Summary: Morgana knows how to deal with meddlesome servants.
Word Count: 482. Just made it.
A/N: I don't know I'm sorry I thought these were all going to be nice cute and fluffy but I saw fire and thought torture I'm sorry. But is it terrible I'm totally proud of this? :'(
“How many times have I told you to stay out of things that do not concern you?”
The words were toxic on her tongue, tasting of the hemlock Merlin had tried to poison her with just a year ago; when she still looked to Merlin as a close and trusted friend. When Morgana needed that close and trusted friend, he offered no such sympathy, and instead attempted to kill her. Why should she offer him the same kindness? She yanked both sides of the rope as tightly as she could manage around Merlin's wrists. His eyes darted frantically around the room, looking everywhere but at Morgana.
“Look at me!” she demanded, grabbing his chin and forcing his eyes to meet hers.
She turned to her table, grabbing a small bag, spreading something that resembled ash on the floor in a large circle around Merlin. She stood as close to Merlin as she could manage without feeling disgusted, staring into the boy's blue eyes, the desperation in them no longer reaching Morgana as it should have.
“I have a way to deal with meddlesome servants like you,” she said venomously, and through the rage, the ash ignited, the flames dancing around their ankles.
“Please, Morgana,” Merlin struggled to say past the rope she had tied around his neck. He was sucking in quick breaths, trying to get air into his lungs. “You don't have to blindly follow Morgause, you can--”
The second the servant spoke her sister's name, Morgana's hand came down on his face, a ring leaving a gash across his cheek.
“You have no right to speak her name,” she said, her voice low as the flames climbed higher. “This isn't her doing, this is mine. I'm going to make you suffer. I'll show you what happens when you stick your nose where it doesn't belong.”
She pulled her dagger out of its scabbard, wasting no time in drawing designs on Merlin's bare chest with the blade, smirking sadistically as copious amounts of his blood followed the path of the blade. She continued with her artwork until Merlin's chest was entirely red, and grabbed his chin again, this time the sign in his eyes was panic, pain, and Morgana's happiness depended solely on that look.
“Are you going to beg, you worthless servant? Beg me to stop.”
When she got no response, she dug the blade deeper, Merlin whimpering in pain, jerking against his restraints.
“Beg me to stop!” she said again, voice demanding, cold.
“Please...” he gasped. “Please...make it stop...”
“Good boy.” she smirked, yanking her dagger back, hands sticky with Merlin's blood. “I'll leave you for someone to find.”
She stepped, entirely unharmed, through the flames, and commanded them to leap high, high up to the ceiling, clouding Merlin's limp form with smoke.
“Possibly.”
Pairing/Character: Merlin/Morgana
Rating: R [that's a safe bet]
Warnings: There's torture and slight degrading and fire and blood so. Enter at your own risk. I'm serious.
Prompt: Fire
Link to Table?
Summary: Morgana knows how to deal with meddlesome servants.
Word Count: 482. Just made it.
A/N: I don't know I'm sorry I thought these were all going to be nice cute and fluffy but I saw fire and thought torture I'm sorry. But is it terrible I'm totally proud of this? :'(
“How many times have I told you to stay out of things that do not concern you?”
The words were toxic on her tongue, tasting of the hemlock Merlin had tried to poison her with just a year ago; when she still looked to Merlin as a close and trusted friend. When Morgana needed that close and trusted friend, he offered no such sympathy, and instead attempted to kill her. Why should she offer him the same kindness? She yanked both sides of the rope as tightly as she could manage around Merlin's wrists. His eyes darted frantically around the room, looking everywhere but at Morgana.
“Look at me!” she demanded, grabbing his chin and forcing his eyes to meet hers.
She turned to her table, grabbing a small bag, spreading something that resembled ash on the floor in a large circle around Merlin. She stood as close to Merlin as she could manage without feeling disgusted, staring into the boy's blue eyes, the desperation in them no longer reaching Morgana as it should have.
“I have a way to deal with meddlesome servants like you,” she said venomously, and through the rage, the ash ignited, the flames dancing around their ankles.
“Please, Morgana,” Merlin struggled to say past the rope she had tied around his neck. He was sucking in quick breaths, trying to get air into his lungs. “You don't have to blindly follow Morgause, you can--”
The second the servant spoke her sister's name, Morgana's hand came down on his face, a ring leaving a gash across his cheek.
“You have no right to speak her name,” she said, her voice low as the flames climbed higher. “This isn't her doing, this is mine. I'm going to make you suffer. I'll show you what happens when you stick your nose where it doesn't belong.”
She pulled her dagger out of its scabbard, wasting no time in drawing designs on Merlin's bare chest with the blade, smirking sadistically as copious amounts of his blood followed the path of the blade. She continued with her artwork until Merlin's chest was entirely red, and grabbed his chin again, this time the sign in his eyes was panic, pain, and Morgana's happiness depended solely on that look.
“Are you going to beg, you worthless servant? Beg me to stop.”
When she got no response, she dug the blade deeper, Merlin whimpering in pain, jerking against his restraints.
“Beg me to stop!” she said again, voice demanding, cold.
“Please...” he gasped. “Please...make it stop...”
“Good boy.” she smirked, yanking her dagger back, hands sticky with Merlin's blood. “I'll leave you for someone to find.”
She stepped, entirely unharmed, through the flames, and commanded them to leap high, high up to the ceiling, clouding Merlin's limp form with smoke.
“Possibly.”