Merlin, "The Art of Smirking" Morgana, Morgause gen; pg
Fandom: Merlin
Title: The Art of Smirking
Author: Paynesgrey
Characters/Pairings: Morgana, Morgause
Rating: PG
Word Count: 534
Genre: Humor/General
Spoilers: None. Pre-Season Three.
Notes: Written for “#13 - The magician and his pupil” for 100_fairytales at Livejournal. Pre-season 3. This will not be continued.
Summary: Morgause instructs Morgana on showing clandestine satisfaction.
URL: AO3 | FFnet
Morgause draws away her tools as magic lessons end for the day. As she turns, she catches her sister Morgana with a peculiar look of satisfaction on her face. She spins around and meets the girl’s green eyes.
“Ooh, that will not do, sister,” she says, and Morgana’s smirk fades and her brows knit together in confusion. “We will have to work on that.”
“I am sorry, but what did I do wrong?” she asks timidly. After all this time away from Uther, Morgana isn’t as commanding yet as Morgause has hoped, but she thinks her sister will gain more courage and fortitude in time.
“That smile. It’s far too noticeable, and completely out of character, at least, the character you used to be.” She chuckles lightly and places her hands on the sides of Morgana’s cheeks. “Now, smile for me, dear sister. Imagine you have just killed Uther, and he is dead at your feet.”
Morgana’s face brightens, and her she does more than smirk, her smile is toothy, evil of course, but far too toothy as her eyes glare into Morgause’s.
“That...is trying too hard,” Morgause critiques.
“But...I can’t help it!” Morgana defends herself. “I think about how wonderful it will be when we take down Camelot and Uther, and I just have to smile.”
“The correct term is smirk, dear sister, and you do it quite well, but it is suspicious, and I fear that if you smile like that after a plan has gone successful you may tip off the King or one of the knights.” Morgause raises a single eyebrow and sneers. “Or a nosy servant.”
“What must I do?” Morgana asks, grabbing onto Morgause’s sleeves in desperation.
“Practice, dear sister,” Morgause says melodiously, stroking her sister’s dark hair idly. “And if you cannot help yourself you must keep your smirks private where others cannot see. Play your role first, and if you must, turn away from their gaze to relish in your delight.”
Morgana stiffens, lifts her chin and she lets a small sigh escape before rewarding her sister with a practice smirk.
“Excellent,” Morgause says, nodding approvingly. “Very soon you will master the art of clandestine satisfaction.”
Morgana shakes her head and looks at Morgause worshipfully. “No, sister, I shall never be as good as you.”
Morgause seems pleased. “Quite. This is why you must practice.” She taps Morgana on the nose and her sister gives her a genuine smile, of affection and not of treachery.
“There, now you shall practice for the rest of the afternoon,” she says, drawing her sister Morgana over to a mirror in the foreboding darkness of Morgause’s castle. Morgana smirks, though she seems nervous. Morgause leaves her and doesn’t look back.
Morgana starts, thinking of all the horrible things she is going to do to Camelot, to Uther, and yes, even to Arthur. Very soon they will be all at her mercy, and she will let them know how it feels to be alone and afraid, to be persecuted because of her magic.
Morgana watches her lips curve upward in the mirror again as she controls her rising excitement. The next smile, she promises herself, will not show so much fang.
END
Title: The Art of Smirking
Author: Paynesgrey
Characters/Pairings: Morgana, Morgause
Rating: PG
Word Count: 534
Genre: Humor/General
Spoilers: None. Pre-Season Three.
Notes: Written for “#13 - The magician and his pupil” for 100_fairytales at Livejournal. Pre-season 3. This will not be continued.
Summary: Morgause instructs Morgana on showing clandestine satisfaction.
URL: AO3 | FFnet
Morgause draws away her tools as magic lessons end for the day. As she turns, she catches her sister Morgana with a peculiar look of satisfaction on her face. She spins around and meets the girl’s green eyes.
“Ooh, that will not do, sister,” she says, and Morgana’s smirk fades and her brows knit together in confusion. “We will have to work on that.”
“I am sorry, but what did I do wrong?” she asks timidly. After all this time away from Uther, Morgana isn’t as commanding yet as Morgause has hoped, but she thinks her sister will gain more courage and fortitude in time.
“That smile. It’s far too noticeable, and completely out of character, at least, the character you used to be.” She chuckles lightly and places her hands on the sides of Morgana’s cheeks. “Now, smile for me, dear sister. Imagine you have just killed Uther, and he is dead at your feet.”
Morgana’s face brightens, and her she does more than smirk, her smile is toothy, evil of course, but far too toothy as her eyes glare into Morgause’s.
“That...is trying too hard,” Morgause critiques.
“But...I can’t help it!” Morgana defends herself. “I think about how wonderful it will be when we take down Camelot and Uther, and I just have to smile.”
“The correct term is smirk, dear sister, and you do it quite well, but it is suspicious, and I fear that if you smile like that after a plan has gone successful you may tip off the King or one of the knights.” Morgause raises a single eyebrow and sneers. “Or a nosy servant.”
“What must I do?” Morgana asks, grabbing onto Morgause’s sleeves in desperation.
“Practice, dear sister,” Morgause says melodiously, stroking her sister’s dark hair idly. “And if you cannot help yourself you must keep your smirks private where others cannot see. Play your role first, and if you must, turn away from their gaze to relish in your delight.”
Morgana stiffens, lifts her chin and she lets a small sigh escape before rewarding her sister with a practice smirk.
“Excellent,” Morgause says, nodding approvingly. “Very soon you will master the art of clandestine satisfaction.”
Morgana shakes her head and looks at Morgause worshipfully. “No, sister, I shall never be as good as you.”
Morgause seems pleased. “Quite. This is why you must practice.” She taps Morgana on the nose and her sister gives her a genuine smile, of affection and not of treachery.
“There, now you shall practice for the rest of the afternoon,” she says, drawing her sister Morgana over to a mirror in the foreboding darkness of Morgause’s castle. Morgana smirks, though she seems nervous. Morgause leaves her and doesn’t look back.
Morgana starts, thinking of all the horrible things she is going to do to Camelot, to Uther, and yes, even to Arthur. Very soon they will be all at her mercy, and she will let them know how it feels to be alone and afraid, to be persecuted because of her magic.
Morgana watches her lips curve upward in the mirror again as she controls her rising excitement. The next smile, she promises herself, will not show so much fang.
END