[FIC] Girl With One Eye (Gwen/Morgana; R)
Author/Artist: lovepb
Title: Girl With One Eye
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Gwen/Morgana
Rating: Soft R
Summary: For years, Gwen had been hers and she hadn’t had the faintest idea what to do about it. But now she did.
Warnings (if any): Dark themes, predatory!Morgana
Total word count: 1,081
Original prompt number: 24 - Submitted by accioscar
Disclaimer: This story/artwork is based on characters and situations created and owned by the BBC and Shine TV. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Beta(s): stbacchus
Girl With One Eye
Morgana knew from the moment she returned to Camelot that Gwen could see the change. Uther and Arthur were too blinded by relief to see it, but it had always been Gwen who had known her best and it stood to reason that it would be she who saw through Morgana’s facade.
The girl was trusting to a fault and the person she trusted most was Morgana. Or at least she used to. As perceptive as Gwen was, Morgana didn’t think that she would question for a second which side Morgana was on.
Now Gwen had other interests, interests that Morgana would not indulge. For years, Gwen had been hers and she hadn’t had the faintest idea what to do about it. But now she did. Now Morgana knew exactly what she wanted and how to get it. That was what Gwen had noticed first, Morgana was sure, the hunger in her mistress’ eyes when she looked at her. It scared her a little and that only made Morgana hungrier.
“My sweet, sweet Gwen,” Morgana purred, stepping too close to her maid and brushing the hair back from her eyes possessively. “Don’t leave me.”
Gwen swallowed. “Never, my lady.”
Morgana sidled impossibly closer, pressing herself up against Gwen. “Tonight,” she clarified. “Don’t leave me tonight. You wouldn’t leave me all alone would you?”
“No, my lady,” Gwen said timidly.
“You wouldn’t leave me... wanting?” Morgana continued. If Gwen had been anything other than entirely innocent, she would have caught Morgana’s meaning. But she was as pure as fresh mid-winter snow and just shook her head. “You’ve always been such a good girl,” Morgana whispered, pleased, stroking Gwen’s cheek almost motherly.
Gwen smiled a little at that. “Thank you, my lady.”
She had always loved being called that, a good girl, long before Morgana had been called it in a far less chaste way, flat on her back with a curtain of gold curls falling around her.
“And good girls deserve to be rewarded,” Morgana murmured, bringing one hand to Gwen’s hip and leaving the other at her cheek. She gazed hotly at Gwen’s lips, before raising her eyes to meet Gwen’s. “Do you remember,” she began, “when we were younger, you kissed me once and then ran away? Why did you do it?”
“I - I don’t know, my lady,” Gwen stuttered.
“Yes you do,” Morgana said, her voice hardening. “Why did you do it?”
“Because I wanted to,” Gwen said timidly, after a moment. Even though she was afraid, she still trusted Morgana; that much was obvious.
Morgana smirked and dipped her head until their lips were only a breath apart. “Because you wanted to? How gratifying.” Both of her hands were on Gwen’s hips now. “And what about now, my sweet Guinevere? What do you want now? Do you want me to kiss you?”
Trembling, Gwen nodded. Every rational thought was screaming at her to say no, but she didn’t think she had ever wanted anything more. As much as the change in Morgana scared her, it excited her too.
“Say it,” Morgana demanded, pressing her fingers into Gwen’s hips.
“Yes, my lady,” Gwen said, her words coming out rushed and all tangled up. She closed her eyes, waiting warily for what was to come next.
But then the warmth of Morgana’s body, the pressure of her hands and the hot breath against her lips were all gone and she stood alone in the middle of the room. She opened her eyes and quickly found Morgana perched on the edge of the bed. There was a predatory edge to the darkness of Morgana’s eyes, something which Gwen had never seen before. Except, perhaps, when Morgana and Arthur had sparred.
“Come here,” Morgana bade.
Gwen did as she was told, walking shakily forward to sit beside Morgana on the bed. She bowed her head and laid her hands in her lap, but Morgana’s pale white fingers were at her cheek again and this time, they did not caress, but tilted her face up. Morgana kissed her then, slow and languid, schooling Gwen’s clumsy movements into something more refined and ladylike.
Soon, when Gwen’s lips parted for a breath, Morgana slipped her tongue inside, finding Gwen’s and drawing it out, kissing Gwen deeper than she had ever been kissed before. Her dominance over the kiss was obvious. She dictated the pace, leading Gwen wherever she wanted to take her, gaining fire and fervour as an immeasurable amount of time passed, covering one of Gwen’s breasts with her hand and squeezing it gently, rhythmically. She smiled impishly into the kiss at the way Gwen’s breath caught.
“You are a maid, aren’t you, Gwen?” she asked absently, pulling back just enough to watch Gwen react to her touches. “No one has ever had you?”
Gwen shook her head fervently, and then remembered that Morgana preferred her to speak aloud. “No, my lady.”
For the first time since she had returned to Camelot, Morgana smiled genuinely, if a little wickedly. “Such a good girl,” Morgana purred.
Gwen, foolishly, relaxed. “Thank you, my lady.”
“But I think it’s about time I took your maidenhood, don’t you? That is what you want, isn’t it,” Morgana said, slowly sliding Gwen’s skirts up her legs, “to give your maidenhood to me? We’re grown up now and you are mine, aren’t you, my little Guinevere?”
This time Gwen was too afraid to speak, but she nodded, her breath quickening and her breast heaving. Morgana’s hand was on her thigh now, stroking gently, and Gwen, ever obedient, ever the good girl, opened her legs a little. She wasn’t so naive that she didn’t know what Morgana wanted. Nor was she so virtuous that she didn’t want it herself.
Morgana chuckled and squeezed Gwen’s soft, supple flesh. She captured Gwen’s bottom lip and sucked on it, drawing her into a kiss to distract her from the movement of her hand tugging her smallclothes down to her knees. They were rough cotton, the same as she had always worn. However much her dresses had become finer in the year that Morgana was away, her smallclothes remained the same. Arthur’s little gifts had only gone so far, it seemed. Morgana would have to rectify that herself, she decided. When she slipped her hand back up, she went higher than before and Gwen gasped, holding tightly onto Morgana’s arm.
“Don’t worry, love, it’s not going to hurt,” Morgana promised, still smiling wickedly. “Well… maybe a little.”
Title: Girl With One Eye
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Gwen/Morgana
Rating: Soft R
Summary: For years, Gwen had been hers and she hadn’t had the faintest idea what to do about it. But now she did.
Warnings (if any): Dark themes, predatory!Morgana
Total word count: 1,081
Original prompt number: 24 - Submitted by accioscar
Disclaimer: This story/artwork is based on characters and situations created and owned by the BBC and Shine TV. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Beta(s): stbacchus
Girl With One Eye
Morgana knew from the moment she returned to Camelot that Gwen could see the change. Uther and Arthur were too blinded by relief to see it, but it had always been Gwen who had known her best and it stood to reason that it would be she who saw through Morgana’s facade.
The girl was trusting to a fault and the person she trusted most was Morgana. Or at least she used to. As perceptive as Gwen was, Morgana didn’t think that she would question for a second which side Morgana was on.
Now Gwen had other interests, interests that Morgana would not indulge. For years, Gwen had been hers and she hadn’t had the faintest idea what to do about it. But now she did. Now Morgana knew exactly what she wanted and how to get it. That was what Gwen had noticed first, Morgana was sure, the hunger in her mistress’ eyes when she looked at her. It scared her a little and that only made Morgana hungrier.
“My sweet, sweet Gwen,” Morgana purred, stepping too close to her maid and brushing the hair back from her eyes possessively. “Don’t leave me.”
Gwen swallowed. “Never, my lady.”
Morgana sidled impossibly closer, pressing herself up against Gwen. “Tonight,” she clarified. “Don’t leave me tonight. You wouldn’t leave me all alone would you?”
“No, my lady,” Gwen said timidly.
“You wouldn’t leave me... wanting?” Morgana continued. If Gwen had been anything other than entirely innocent, she would have caught Morgana’s meaning. But she was as pure as fresh mid-winter snow and just shook her head. “You’ve always been such a good girl,” Morgana whispered, pleased, stroking Gwen’s cheek almost motherly.
Gwen smiled a little at that. “Thank you, my lady.”
She had always loved being called that, a good girl, long before Morgana had been called it in a far less chaste way, flat on her back with a curtain of gold curls falling around her.
“And good girls deserve to be rewarded,” Morgana murmured, bringing one hand to Gwen’s hip and leaving the other at her cheek. She gazed hotly at Gwen’s lips, before raising her eyes to meet Gwen’s. “Do you remember,” she began, “when we were younger, you kissed me once and then ran away? Why did you do it?”
“I - I don’t know, my lady,” Gwen stuttered.
“Yes you do,” Morgana said, her voice hardening. “Why did you do it?”
“Because I wanted to,” Gwen said timidly, after a moment. Even though she was afraid, she still trusted Morgana; that much was obvious.
Morgana smirked and dipped her head until their lips were only a breath apart. “Because you wanted to? How gratifying.” Both of her hands were on Gwen’s hips now. “And what about now, my sweet Guinevere? What do you want now? Do you want me to kiss you?”
Trembling, Gwen nodded. Every rational thought was screaming at her to say no, but she didn’t think she had ever wanted anything more. As much as the change in Morgana scared her, it excited her too.
“Say it,” Morgana demanded, pressing her fingers into Gwen’s hips.
“Yes, my lady,” Gwen said, her words coming out rushed and all tangled up. She closed her eyes, waiting warily for what was to come next.
But then the warmth of Morgana’s body, the pressure of her hands and the hot breath against her lips were all gone and she stood alone in the middle of the room. She opened her eyes and quickly found Morgana perched on the edge of the bed. There was a predatory edge to the darkness of Morgana’s eyes, something which Gwen had never seen before. Except, perhaps, when Morgana and Arthur had sparred.
“Come here,” Morgana bade.
Gwen did as she was told, walking shakily forward to sit beside Morgana on the bed. She bowed her head and laid her hands in her lap, but Morgana’s pale white fingers were at her cheek again and this time, they did not caress, but tilted her face up. Morgana kissed her then, slow and languid, schooling Gwen’s clumsy movements into something more refined and ladylike.
Soon, when Gwen’s lips parted for a breath, Morgana slipped her tongue inside, finding Gwen’s and drawing it out, kissing Gwen deeper than she had ever been kissed before. Her dominance over the kiss was obvious. She dictated the pace, leading Gwen wherever she wanted to take her, gaining fire and fervour as an immeasurable amount of time passed, covering one of Gwen’s breasts with her hand and squeezing it gently, rhythmically. She smiled impishly into the kiss at the way Gwen’s breath caught.
“You are a maid, aren’t you, Gwen?” she asked absently, pulling back just enough to watch Gwen react to her touches. “No one has ever had you?”
Gwen shook her head fervently, and then remembered that Morgana preferred her to speak aloud. “No, my lady.”
For the first time since she had returned to Camelot, Morgana smiled genuinely, if a little wickedly. “Such a good girl,” Morgana purred.
Gwen, foolishly, relaxed. “Thank you, my lady.”
“But I think it’s about time I took your maidenhood, don’t you? That is what you want, isn’t it,” Morgana said, slowly sliding Gwen’s skirts up her legs, “to give your maidenhood to me? We’re grown up now and you are mine, aren’t you, my little Guinevere?”
This time Gwen was too afraid to speak, but she nodded, her breath quickening and her breast heaving. Morgana’s hand was on her thigh now, stroking gently, and Gwen, ever obedient, ever the good girl, opened her legs a little. She wasn’t so naive that she didn’t know what Morgana wanted. Nor was she so virtuous that she didn’t want it herself.
Morgana chuckled and squeezed Gwen’s soft, supple flesh. She captured Gwen’s bottom lip and sucked on it, drawing her into a kiss to distract her from the movement of her hand tugging her smallclothes down to her knees. They were rough cotton, the same as she had always worn. However much her dresses had become finer in the year that Morgana was away, her smallclothes remained the same. Arthur’s little gifts had only gone so far, it seemed. Morgana would have to rectify that herself, she decided. When she slipped her hand back up, she went higher than before and Gwen gasped, holding tightly onto Morgana’s arm.
“Don’t worry, love, it’s not going to hurt,” Morgana promised, still smiling wickedly. “Well… maybe a little.”