ficlet: paths (nimueh/morgause)
Thoughts while festividding: omg, this will never be done. Also, it's rubbish. Why did I even sign up for this when everyone else participating is so much better than me? Ack, woe.
Thoughts while working on the virtual season: omg, this will seriously never be done. Also, it's awful. Why am I doing this, everyone else on the project is amazing and I am fail! Ack, woe, second verse, same as the first.
See also: my academic research and writing. Sigh! Self-confidence, this was a really bad time to go out the window, don't you know I have deadlines?
ANYWAY. I procrastinated on all of that today by writing a thing for i_claudia's Merlin wall!slam fest, which I shall post now in an effort to appear like I'm on top of things!
+
Paths, Nimueh/Morgause, R, 600 words, set sometime after 1x04
Nimueh's been gone for nearly a month, and when she walks back into the encampment Morgause's relief is quickly replaced by anger. She runs up to Nimueh, who's speaking to the others, calm and composed the way she always is, except when she's in Morgause's bed.
"Where have you been?" she hisses when she reaches Nimueh. "What did you do?"
Nimueh glances up, and sighs. "Please excuse me for a moment," she says to the three women she's speaking to, and grabs Morgause by the shoulder, dragging her roughly to the edge of the camp.
There is a ruined castle inhabited mostly by birds, but there's magic in the old stones, and so they have made their home here these last six months, safe from Uther's reach.
"They said you killed innocents, that you unleashed a plague on Camelot," Morgause says, disbelieving.
"Uther should be made to watch his people suffer," Nimueh says coolly. "It is revenge well-earned."
"You swore to me," Morgause says, half in sorrow, half in rage, until the latter overtakes her and she shoves Nimueh back, pinning her to the wall, her hand clutching the rough material of Nimueh's dress.
"The opportunity presented itself," Nimeuh says, eyes flashing.
"You can't--" Morgause begins, but the fury is already draining out of her. "I have no desire to see you take this path."
"It is already laid before me," Nimueh replies, and Morgause wonders if there's some sadness in that statement. "All I can do is walk it."
Morgause loosens her grip on Nimueh's shoulder.
"Come," says Nimueh, wrapping her hand around Morgause's arm. "Will you forgive me? I missed you."
Morgause nods slowly, inevitably, and Nimueh brings her hand to the back of Morgause's neck, surprisingly gentle, pulling Morgause in for a kiss.
Morgause gives herself over to it, the warm comfort of Nimueh's inviting mouth, and she doesn't realise she's shaking until Nimueh's firm hands are at her back, stroking and soothing. She pushes further, licking her way into Nimueh's mouth, softly, slowly, while Nimueh's hands are at her hips, her sides, her breasts.
Morgause is hot and aching, a month's worth of need all coming to a sharp flare, and she pushes Nimueh back again, spreading her legs so she can push a thigh between, seeking friction.
"I have missed this," Nimeuh says, a whisper. "I have missed your touch."
"Nimueh, please."
"Say you forgive me."
"I -- yes, anything! Anything for you, you are --"
"Ssh," Nimueh says, stroking Morgause's hair. "My girl, my sweet, sweet girl."
Morgause looks at her, too far gone with desire to feel self-conscious over how wrecked she must look, because this is all for Nimueh, always. She moans softly, longing for Nimueh's mouth, her hands, but then Nimueh's eyes glow golden and there is sensation everywhere.
Lines of heat and fire play under her skin, and she's opening up, falling, but Nimueh's got her, anchoring her with a kiss. Nimueh places a hand on Morgause's chest, just below the hollow of her throat, and with that Morgause is shattering, coming undone, the magic within her bursting out as pleasure floods through her.
"Ssh," Nimueh says. "My dear, dear girl. Hush for me now."
Morgause leans on Nimueh's shoulder, breathing heavily as her legs almost give out under her. Nimueh's still talking above her, words of destiny, but Morgause can do nothing but breathe in the smell of Nimueh's skin, infused with the sharp tang of magic, and listening to her own rapidly-beating heart.
-- This entry has
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Thoughts while working on the virtual season: omg, this will seriously never be done. Also, it's awful. Why am I doing this, everyone else on the project is amazing and I am fail! Ack, woe, second verse, same as the first.
See also: my academic research and writing. Sigh! Self-confidence, this was a really bad time to go out the window, don't you know I have deadlines?
ANYWAY. I procrastinated on all of that today by writing a thing for i_claudia's Merlin wall!slam fest, which I shall post now in an effort to appear like I'm on top of things!
+
Paths, Nimueh/Morgause, R, 600 words, set sometime after 1x04
Nimueh's been gone for nearly a month, and when she walks back into the encampment Morgause's relief is quickly replaced by anger. She runs up to Nimueh, who's speaking to the others, calm and composed the way she always is, except when she's in Morgause's bed.
"Where have you been?" she hisses when she reaches Nimueh. "What did you do?"
Nimueh glances up, and sighs. "Please excuse me for a moment," she says to the three women she's speaking to, and grabs Morgause by the shoulder, dragging her roughly to the edge of the camp.
There is a ruined castle inhabited mostly by birds, but there's magic in the old stones, and so they have made their home here these last six months, safe from Uther's reach.
"They said you killed innocents, that you unleashed a plague on Camelot," Morgause says, disbelieving.
"Uther should be made to watch his people suffer," Nimueh says coolly. "It is revenge well-earned."
"You swore to me," Morgause says, half in sorrow, half in rage, until the latter overtakes her and she shoves Nimueh back, pinning her to the wall, her hand clutching the rough material of Nimueh's dress.
"The opportunity presented itself," Nimeuh says, eyes flashing.
"You can't--" Morgause begins, but the fury is already draining out of her. "I have no desire to see you take this path."
"It is already laid before me," Nimueh replies, and Morgause wonders if there's some sadness in that statement. "All I can do is walk it."
Morgause loosens her grip on Nimueh's shoulder.
"Come," says Nimueh, wrapping her hand around Morgause's arm. "Will you forgive me? I missed you."
Morgause nods slowly, inevitably, and Nimueh brings her hand to the back of Morgause's neck, surprisingly gentle, pulling Morgause in for a kiss.
Morgause gives herself over to it, the warm comfort of Nimueh's inviting mouth, and she doesn't realise she's shaking until Nimueh's firm hands are at her back, stroking and soothing. She pushes further, licking her way into Nimueh's mouth, softly, slowly, while Nimueh's hands are at her hips, her sides, her breasts.
Morgause is hot and aching, a month's worth of need all coming to a sharp flare, and she pushes Nimueh back again, spreading her legs so she can push a thigh between, seeking friction.
"I have missed this," Nimeuh says, a whisper. "I have missed your touch."
"Nimueh, please."
"Say you forgive me."
"I -- yes, anything! Anything for you, you are --"
"Ssh," Nimueh says, stroking Morgause's hair. "My girl, my sweet, sweet girl."
Morgause looks at her, too far gone with desire to feel self-conscious over how wrecked she must look, because this is all for Nimueh, always. She moans softly, longing for Nimueh's mouth, her hands, but then Nimueh's eyes glow golden and there is sensation everywhere.
Lines of heat and fire play under her skin, and she's opening up, falling, but Nimueh's got her, anchoring her with a kiss. Nimueh places a hand on Morgause's chest, just below the hollow of her throat, and with that Morgause is shattering, coming undone, the magic within her bursting out as pleasure floods through her.
"Ssh," Nimueh says. "My dear, dear girl. Hush for me now."
Morgause leans on Nimueh's shoulder, breathing heavily as her legs almost give out under her. Nimueh's still talking above her, words of destiny, but Morgause can do nothing but breathe in the smell of Nimueh's skin, infused with the sharp tang of magic, and listening to her own rapidly-beating heart.
-- This entry has
comment(s) at Dreamwidth. Comment using your Dreamwidth account or OpenID.