At My Most Beautiful (4/?) (Morgana/Morgause)
Chaper 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3
The morning sun brought no peace to the troubled knight, as she knew it would not to the Queen who it was her duty to protect. She had failed. When Morgana had needed her most, she had proven herself to be utterly useless. She hadn’t even known how to comfort her.
“Why aren’t you wearing your armour?”
Morgause dragged her eyes away from the window and bowed her head to her annoyed looking Queen. She had a way of moving about the castle that made no noise at all and knew that she did not have to knock to enter any room. This often meant that you had no idea she was there. Morgana liked it that way.
“Good morning, Your Highness.” Morgause bowed her head low in greeting. It wouldn’t make up for the lack of respect she had been shown by the King the night before, but it was the best that Morgause could do.
“Why aren’t you wearing your armour? The tournament begins this morning,” Morgana repeated. There was no sign of the Morgana who had sat naked and bruised on her still damp bed the previous night. The person standing in the middle of Morgause’s room was a strong woman who held her head high and would not be defied.
“I’m not competing,” Morgause said when the silence became too much. The tournament was for real knights, not silly women playing out of their depth. She was a knight in name alone.
“Yes you are,” Morgana told her. She crossed to the bed and fingered Morgause’s polished gardbrace. “Come here.”
Morgause’s eyes pinched in confusion.
“Come here,” Morgana ordered, firmer.
Morgause didn’t move, not out of disobedience but shock.
“You answer to me, do you not?” Morgana’s eyes flashed. “So come here!”
Morgause did as she was told, though not without an embarrassing thrill of heat at Morgana’s tone. Morgana hadn’t spoken to her with so much fire since the day they had met and then it had made her go weak at the knees.
“You are my champion and you will cut down every challenger until you are the last one standing, is that clear?” Morgana demanded.
Morgause nodded slowly.
“Good.”
“I should call for a servant to do this,” Morgause said a few minutes later, watching as Morgana lifted up her pauldron.
“Whose champion are you?” Morgana asked, turning Morgause around by the shoulders.
“Yours,” Morgause said with a smile.
“Exactly, now hold still.”
“Yes, my Queen.”
“Call me Morgana.”
“Yes, Morgana.”
“You need to forget about last night,” Morgana said quietly as she tightened the strap that fixed the front half of Morgause’s pauldron to her breastbone. She ran her hands out from the gap between the knight’s shoulder blades, applying pressure with her thumbs. “You will be knocked out in the first round with this much tension in your muscles. You need to relax.”
Morgause made to protest but was already leaning into Morgana’s touch.
“Now,” Morgana began, “believe me when I say that you can and will win this tournament. You are my champion, you will be wearing my favour and the Queen’s champion does not lose, not to anyone. And when the day is done, you will sit victoriously at the head table for the feast, the envy of every knight in the kingdom.” She pressed harder with the heels of her palms and Morgause squirmed and gasped.
“Yes, Morgana.”
The weight of Morgana’s expectations sat heavy on Morgause’s loosened shoulders as she drew her sword to face her first opponent and did not lessen throughout the tournament. Morgana had been right, she was the Queen’s champion and there were certain expectations that came with that. She didn’t know exactly when she had become Morgana’s champion instead of her guard but she would wear the title proudly. No one had taken her seriously as a knight before Morgana. For the first time, someone looked to her to protect them and believed that she could do it.
Every second she was in the arena, she could feel Morgana’s eyes on her, watching her, willing her to win. When Sir Michael’s perfectly timed lunge over balanced her, she could hear the Queen’s gasp crystal clear amongst the silence of the crowd’s held breath, and the sound alone gave her the strength to throw Sir Michael off and get back to her feet. But there was only so much strength that Morgana’s presence and her favour around her arm could give her. As quick and nimble as she was with a sword and as skilled as with a horse, she did not win the tournament. Sir Leon did.
“You were wonderful,” Morgana whispered, hugging her fiercely. “I was honoured to have you wear my favour.”
“I didn’t win,” Morgause said disappointedly. For a moment at the beginning of the final, she really thought that she could beat Sir Leon.
“You won to me.” It was barely a murmur but Morgause was sure she had heard the words slip from Morgana’s pinked lips as she pulled back from the hug.
“Next year you will sit triumphant beside the King at the banquet,” Morgana promised, “but tonight you are mine.”
Morgause almost forgot to breathe.
“The runner up in the tournament gets to escort the Queen to the feast, didn’t you know?” Morgana knew full well that she didn’t know. The King had only decided it minutes before when Morgana had reminded him that if Sir Leon fell ill or was injured, Morgause would be Camelot’s champion for the inter-kingdom tournament. She had said it in the hope that he would treat Morgause with a little more respect, the reputation of the kingdom could rest on her shoulders and she had proved herself more than capable in the tournament. Uther’s suggestion that she accompany Morgana had been a pleasant and unforeseen consequence.
“If I had known then I would have lost the last mach on purpose,” Morgause said, smiling charmingly. She couldn’t make up for the irreverence that the King treated Morgana with but she could damn well try.
“I hoped you were going to say that.”
From the look in Morgana’s eyes, Morgause got the distinct impression that if they had not been in a tent with squires coming in and out, Morgana would have kissed her.
If there was one thing that Morgause prided herself on, it was her ability to wear armour and a gown to equal effect, to go between both worlds. Nothing she owned could hold a candle to even the least grand of Morgana’s dresses but she wouldn’t want them to.
In the end, she chose a deep purple gown with elegant lines and a silver trim. It had been her mother’s many years earlier when her parents had graced the high society of Camelot after her father’s knighting. She had never worn it before, nor did she remember her mother wearing it, but she was pleased with the effect. It clung in all the right places and fell to the floor to hide her overly toned legs, giving a view that was wholly different to her chainmail and breeches. If people at the feast didn’t already know she was a knight, they would never be able to guess.
Awaiting Morgana outside the great hall, Morgause felt ice cold nervousness in the pit of her stomach. She was sure that she wasn’t imagining the connection that was building between the two of them. What she wasn’t sure of was how Morgana would react to seeing her looking like the ladies who frequented these parties.
A soft hand on her upper arm alerted her of Morgana’s presence, silent as ever.
“My champion,” Morgana greeted, kissing her cheek.
“My Queen.” Morgause returned the kiss to Morgana’s porcelain cheek. She heard Morgana’s breath catch.
“You are undoubtedly the most beautiful knight in Camelot,” Morgana breathed, sweeping her eyes appreciatively, though not inappropriately, up Morgause’s body. “Definitely the best looking in a dress.”
Morgause laughed at that and relaxed. “I would hope so. Though there were some rumours about Sir Leon a few years ago...”
“You’re just a sore loser,” Morgana quipped, offering her arm for Morgause to take. “Shall we?”
As the doors were opened to them and the collected nobles audibly breathed in at the sight of them, Morgause leaned over to whisper in Morgana’s ear, “You are quite literally breathtakingly gorgeous and every single person in this room knows it.”
The only sign that Morgana had heard her was a slight jerk of her arm in Morgause’s.
“Have you ever seen anything so beautiful before?” Morgana asked, more steady on her feet than she usually was after banquets. They were at the top of the tower, where Morgana was watching a lone wispy cloud drift across the star filled sky. She didn’t think she had ever seen so many stars.
“Never,” Morgause murmured, not looking at the stars. She was stood a little behind Morgana, watching the Queen leaning against the low stone battlements and looking out at the night sky. There truly was nothing she had ever seen that even came close to matching Morgana’s beauty.
“I wonder sometimes,” Morgana began distantly, “if there are people out there on some other world watching the sky too, thinking they are alone in creation. Uther says it’s blasphemy but still, I wonder. We know so little about the world and what lies beyond it. I think we restrain the questions we ask in fear of not liking the answers. We want so desperately to think that we are at the centre of God’s creation, that we are special. Maybe that is foolish of us.”
“Perhaps,” Morgause agreed, moving to lean beside Morgana, “but maybe it just means that we are human. Here in Camelot may not be the centre of creation but it is the centre of our lives. It is where those we love are. That, I think, is more important than anything so distant as the stars could ever be.”
Morgana turned and looked at Morgause with soft, bright eyes. “I can’t imagine any other knight saying something so beautiful.”
“Hard as I try, I will never be like the other knights,” Morgause whispered conspiratorially, bumping her shoulder lightly against Morgana’s and smiling.
“I’m glad,” Morgana smiled. “I’ve been thinking for a while about taking a trip to visit my aunt in Mermering. She was too ill to travel her for my wedding but she’s getting better now. I should have gone earlier but I couldn’t face it. She’s the only family I have left but I haven’t seen her for four years and she only lives a week’s ride away. Isn’t that ridiculous?”
“You’ve never had a dashing knight to escort you before,” Morgause smirked.
Morgana’s heart skipped a beat. “No, I haven’t.”
