Kink Me! #11 - Project Diversity
Kink Me! #11 - Project Diversity
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Welcome to Kink Me! Merlin #11! Project Diversity
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This one is different!
As we announced earlier, KMM11 is two sides of a coin: Project Old School ( Read more... )
"Arthur's horse," Morgana said bitterly, and Passelande threw his ears back, snorting in anger. He may belong to the witch now, but he was also still Arthur's.
"But why come here?" the woman said aloud, stroking his nose softly.
"Morgause-" Morgana began, but the witch (Morgause! Passelande finally had a name!) cut her off with a gentle hand to her arm.
"Here," she whispered, pressing a kiss to Passelande's soft nose. Instantly Passelande felt the magic drop and he backed in fear, the horror of what he'd done kicking in as the spell melted away.
He shied away, squealing as he pivoted on his hind legs, leaving the glade and the cottage without a moment's hesitation. He'd left Arthur, left his rider for that woman? She was evil, she was bad and a kinslayer. What had he done?
He made straight for Camelot, a shining beacon in his soul that spoke of home. Horses of Camelot were trained to home back to the centre so that only death would ruin a horse of the fabled knights. Passelande was ansty when he returned, pacing his box and waiting - praying - that Arthur would visit him.
His prayers were answered when Merlin entered the stables, bee-lining for his stall and stroking his nose.
"You seem happier," he said and Passelande couldn't help but agree. It was Merlin who reassured him Arthur was safe and now, knowing that his rider was safe, Passelande could relax.
He had been stupid and blinded by magic, but he remembered the longing for Morgause, the need to find her. A small part, only a very small part at that, wanted the enchantment back, wanting to feel as though he was needed somewhere and Passelande burrowed his nose into the straw around him, closing his eyes in disgust of himself.
How could he think that after all Morgause had put Arthur through? Arthur had his loyalty and love, always would and that should have been the end of it.
Yet, and Passelande would be lying to himself if he tried to conceal the fact, he knew there would always be that small part that longed for Morgause, enchantment or otherwise.
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