LotS/Camelot Fic: Birthright - Part I (4/10)
Title: Birthright - Part I (LotS/Camelot Crossover) 4/10
Author: TheDawn
Pairing: Eventual Cara/Morgan, Cara/Dahlia, vague-ish Darken/Denna
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None, really...Morgan being too much of a badass for her own good?
Word Count: 1277
Disclaimer: Neither Legend of the Seeker or Camelot are mine - but you'll never convince me that this didn't happen.
Summary: Morgan Pendragon's life was turned upside down when her mother was killed to make room for her father's new wife. When a mysterious Sister arrives from across the sea in D'Hara, she enters a world she never could have imagined - and was always meant to know.
Author's Notes: Okay, I swear they're not all gonna be this short. Apparently when I was deciding on where to split this into chapters, I totally failed at making them even:P From hereon out they get longer, I swear. Plus, next time there's even sex! See Chapter One for full Author's Notes.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Birthright - Part I (4/10)
The People's Palace was every bit as imposing as Morgan had been told. It was massive, far larger than the temple she called home. Its winding hallways and large, echoing chambers were daunting in both size and number.
Lord Rahl, on the other hand, was not quite so impressive. He swept into the room, red velvet robes swirling at his feet as he paced down the line of girls ready to be declared worthy of their agiels. His fingers slid over his lips as he appraised them all with a critical eye. From the way the other Mord-Sith talked about him, Morgan had expected something almost more than human, but the undisguised lust in his leering grey eyes proved him to be every bit a man, no more impressive than the pets she'd been allowed to assist Mistress Sibyl in training.
Following behind him was an eager young Mord-Sith with a cruel glint in her blue eyes and a long braid so blonde it was nearly white. She kept a hand firmly on the agiel at her side as she shadowed Lord Rahl. Morgan raised her chin proudly as they came to a stop before her.
"This one is older than the others," Darken Rahl commented, raking his eyes over Morgan's leather-clad frame. Morgan stiffened almost imperceptibly; she was seventeen, and well aware that the rest of the girls she'd arrived with were at least two years younger than her.
"My lord, Morgan's training was more complex than that of the other girls," Mistress Sibyl explained from her position at the head of the line. "But I assure you, it was well worth it. She will make you proud."
"We shall see about that," Darken mused, not bothering to look at the older woman. His tongue flicked out to moisten his finger as he slid it over his bottom lip, fixing his gaze on Morgan's eyes.
"I suppose every girl has her use, my lord," the blonde beside him said coolly. "Even the slow ones."
Darken smiled almost fondly at the girl. "Now, Denna, be nice. Not everyone can be as precocious as you."
Denna smirked, her fingers trailing seductively over the handle of her agiel. "Yes, my lord." Her eyes were cold as she dragged them over Morgan, who bit her tongue to keep from forcibly removing the smug expression from the blonde's face. Denna may have been younger than Morgan, may have earned her agiel sooner, but Morgan had advantages that the blonde could only dream of.
Fortunately, Morgan did not have to endure the scrutiny long. Lord Rahl was a busy man, and quickly moved on to examine the other girls. When he was satisfied with his evaluation, the ceremony began.
The ceremony itself was torture of a different kind; Lord Rahl seemed to be enamored with the sound of his own voice, and prattled on about honor and loyalty and service. Morgan kept her jaw clenched through most of it, relieved when the agiel was finally placed in her hand. The pain sparked into her hand through the leather of her glove, and she squeezed the weapon tightly, savoring the ache. It centered her, made her whole, and not even Denna's critical glare or Lord Rahl's droning voice could tarnish the pride she felt in her accomplishment.
Morgan Pendragon was no longer. She was Mistress Morgan now.
*****
"Well, look who finally caught up."
Morgan snapped her head around, her eyes narrowing as they fixed on the woman who had spoken. The olive-skinned Mord-Sith stood in the doorway to the baths, glaring at Morgan as she passed by. "Constance," Morgan sneered, her hand drifting to her agiel. "Clearly two years as a sister of the agiel has taught you nothing of loyalty or respect."
Constance's upper lip curled as she pushed off of the door frame, stepping into Morgan's personal space. "I have the utmost respect for my sisters. At least, those who have earned their title," she spat.
"Whether you approve or not, Constance, I am Mord-Sith now." Morgan's gloved hand shot out to grab the shorter woman's chin. "You will speak to me with respect, or you will come to regret it."
Constance opened her mouth to respond, but Morgan's eyes flashed dangerously, stopping the words in her throat. Her brow furrowed in confusion as she shrank away from the ferocity of Morgan's gaze. "Yes, Mistress Morgan," she ground out reluctantly.
A satisfied grin spread across Morgan's lips at the horrified look on the other woman's face. She released Constance's chin, patting her on the cheek. "Well done. There may be hope for you yet."
Morgan stepped away from Constance, a swagger to her step as she walked off in the direction of the dungeons. Down the hall, Mistress Nyda watched with a growing feeling of unease.
*****
"Lord Rahl."
"What is it, Egremont?" Darken said, rolling his eyes in irritation as he yanked Denna's head away from his lap and rearranged his robes. The Mord-Sith did not look pleased at the interruption as she sat back on her heels, drawing a gloved hand across her lips.
"My apologies, Lord Rahl, but you've received a message from Mistress Nyda. She claims it's quite urgent." The older man approached hesitantly, holding out the journey book. Darken took it from his hands, his eyes flicking over the rows of symbols.
"It appears Mistress Morgan is causing quite a stir," he said, stroking his lower lip with his index finger. His mouth twisted into a bemused smile. "Mistress Nyda is concerned that she is gaining undue influence over her sisters." Slamming the book shut, he handed it back to Egremont. "Send word back to her. Morgan is to be sent to the temple at Jandralyn. Mistress Cara will surely put her in her place."
"My lord." Egremont nodded, tucking the book under his arm as he turned and left the room. Darken turned back to Denna, who smirked before leaning forward to return to her duties.
*****
Mistress Cara's lips curled up in amusement as she read the message in the journey book. "It appears my skills are needed once more," she drawled, tapping a gloved finger on the page. She raised her eyes to Mistress Dahlia's as she elaborated. "Lord Rahl is sending another troublesome recruit to me for training."
A small smirk toyed at Dahlia's mouth as she sauntered closer to where Cara sat. She reached for the journey book, plucking it out of Cara's hands and placing it on the table next to Cara's chair. "Your skills are without rival," Dahlia purred, straddling Cara's lap and winding her arms around the blonde's neck. She leaned forward, her voice lowering as she murmured into Cara's ear. "Allow me to demonstrate my appreciation, Mistress."
A hungry grin spread across Cara's mouth, and she lunged forward, claiming Dahlia's lips in a bruising kiss. The journey book lay forgotten on the table as Cara's hands slid possessively over Dahlia's hips.
Thoughts of training a wayward Mord-Sith were far from Cara's mind. There were far more entertaining things demanding her attention at the moment.
*****
"Morgan."
The voice reverberated in her head, sounding at once like a man and something more, something darker. Morgan knew it immediately, though he had not spoken to her since the night of the ritual, years ago. She opened her eyes to find herself in her cell, but somehow she knew she wasn't awake.
“I have a task for you.”
As he detailed his plans for her, the wary look on Morgan's face slowly grew into a sinister smile. Serving the Keeper was going to be easier than she'd expected.
Chapter Five
Author: TheDawn
Pairing: Eventual Cara/Morgan, Cara/Dahlia, vague-ish Darken/Denna
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None, really...Morgan being too much of a badass for her own good?
Word Count: 1277
Disclaimer: Neither Legend of the Seeker or Camelot are mine - but you'll never convince me that this didn't happen.
Summary: Morgan Pendragon's life was turned upside down when her mother was killed to make room for her father's new wife. When a mysterious Sister arrives from across the sea in D'Hara, she enters a world she never could have imagined - and was always meant to know.
Author's Notes: Okay, I swear they're not all gonna be this short. Apparently when I was deciding on where to split this into chapters, I totally failed at making them even:P From hereon out they get longer, I swear. Plus, next time there's even sex! See Chapter One for full Author's Notes.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Birthright - Part I (4/10)
The People's Palace was every bit as imposing as Morgan had been told. It was massive, far larger than the temple she called home. Its winding hallways and large, echoing chambers were daunting in both size and number.
Lord Rahl, on the other hand, was not quite so impressive. He swept into the room, red velvet robes swirling at his feet as he paced down the line of girls ready to be declared worthy of their agiels. His fingers slid over his lips as he appraised them all with a critical eye. From the way the other Mord-Sith talked about him, Morgan had expected something almost more than human, but the undisguised lust in his leering grey eyes proved him to be every bit a man, no more impressive than the pets she'd been allowed to assist Mistress Sibyl in training.
Following behind him was an eager young Mord-Sith with a cruel glint in her blue eyes and a long braid so blonde it was nearly white. She kept a hand firmly on the agiel at her side as she shadowed Lord Rahl. Morgan raised her chin proudly as they came to a stop before her.
"This one is older than the others," Darken Rahl commented, raking his eyes over Morgan's leather-clad frame. Morgan stiffened almost imperceptibly; she was seventeen, and well aware that the rest of the girls she'd arrived with were at least two years younger than her.
"My lord, Morgan's training was more complex than that of the other girls," Mistress Sibyl explained from her position at the head of the line. "But I assure you, it was well worth it. She will make you proud."
"We shall see about that," Darken mused, not bothering to look at the older woman. His tongue flicked out to moisten his finger as he slid it over his bottom lip, fixing his gaze on Morgan's eyes.
"I suppose every girl has her use, my lord," the blonde beside him said coolly. "Even the slow ones."
Darken smiled almost fondly at the girl. "Now, Denna, be nice. Not everyone can be as precocious as you."
Denna smirked, her fingers trailing seductively over the handle of her agiel. "Yes, my lord." Her eyes were cold as she dragged them over Morgan, who bit her tongue to keep from forcibly removing the smug expression from the blonde's face. Denna may have been younger than Morgan, may have earned her agiel sooner, but Morgan had advantages that the blonde could only dream of.
Fortunately, Morgan did not have to endure the scrutiny long. Lord Rahl was a busy man, and quickly moved on to examine the other girls. When he was satisfied with his evaluation, the ceremony began.
The ceremony itself was torture of a different kind; Lord Rahl seemed to be enamored with the sound of his own voice, and prattled on about honor and loyalty and service. Morgan kept her jaw clenched through most of it, relieved when the agiel was finally placed in her hand. The pain sparked into her hand through the leather of her glove, and she squeezed the weapon tightly, savoring the ache. It centered her, made her whole, and not even Denna's critical glare or Lord Rahl's droning voice could tarnish the pride she felt in her accomplishment.
Morgan Pendragon was no longer. She was Mistress Morgan now.
*****
"Well, look who finally caught up."
Morgan snapped her head around, her eyes narrowing as they fixed on the woman who had spoken. The olive-skinned Mord-Sith stood in the doorway to the baths, glaring at Morgan as she passed by. "Constance," Morgan sneered, her hand drifting to her agiel. "Clearly two years as a sister of the agiel has taught you nothing of loyalty or respect."
Constance's upper lip curled as she pushed off of the door frame, stepping into Morgan's personal space. "I have the utmost respect for my sisters. At least, those who have earned their title," she spat.
"Whether you approve or not, Constance, I am Mord-Sith now." Morgan's gloved hand shot out to grab the shorter woman's chin. "You will speak to me with respect, or you will come to regret it."
Constance opened her mouth to respond, but Morgan's eyes flashed dangerously, stopping the words in her throat. Her brow furrowed in confusion as she shrank away from the ferocity of Morgan's gaze. "Yes, Mistress Morgan," she ground out reluctantly.
A satisfied grin spread across Morgan's lips at the horrified look on the other woman's face. She released Constance's chin, patting her on the cheek. "Well done. There may be hope for you yet."
Morgan stepped away from Constance, a swagger to her step as she walked off in the direction of the dungeons. Down the hall, Mistress Nyda watched with a growing feeling of unease.
*****
"Lord Rahl."
"What is it, Egremont?" Darken said, rolling his eyes in irritation as he yanked Denna's head away from his lap and rearranged his robes. The Mord-Sith did not look pleased at the interruption as she sat back on her heels, drawing a gloved hand across her lips.
"My apologies, Lord Rahl, but you've received a message from Mistress Nyda. She claims it's quite urgent." The older man approached hesitantly, holding out the journey book. Darken took it from his hands, his eyes flicking over the rows of symbols.
"It appears Mistress Morgan is causing quite a stir," he said, stroking his lower lip with his index finger. His mouth twisted into a bemused smile. "Mistress Nyda is concerned that she is gaining undue influence over her sisters." Slamming the book shut, he handed it back to Egremont. "Send word back to her. Morgan is to be sent to the temple at Jandralyn. Mistress Cara will surely put her in her place."
"My lord." Egremont nodded, tucking the book under his arm as he turned and left the room. Darken turned back to Denna, who smirked before leaning forward to return to her duties.
*****
Mistress Cara's lips curled up in amusement as she read the message in the journey book. "It appears my skills are needed once more," she drawled, tapping a gloved finger on the page. She raised her eyes to Mistress Dahlia's as she elaborated. "Lord Rahl is sending another troublesome recruit to me for training."
A small smirk toyed at Dahlia's mouth as she sauntered closer to where Cara sat. She reached for the journey book, plucking it out of Cara's hands and placing it on the table next to Cara's chair. "Your skills are without rival," Dahlia purred, straddling Cara's lap and winding her arms around the blonde's neck. She leaned forward, her voice lowering as she murmured into Cara's ear. "Allow me to demonstrate my appreciation, Mistress."
A hungry grin spread across Cara's mouth, and she lunged forward, claiming Dahlia's lips in a bruising kiss. The journey book lay forgotten on the table as Cara's hands slid possessively over Dahlia's hips.
Thoughts of training a wayward Mord-Sith were far from Cara's mind. There were far more entertaining things demanding her attention at the moment.
*****
"Morgan."
The voice reverberated in her head, sounding at once like a man and something more, something darker. Morgan knew it immediately, though he had not spoken to her since the night of the ritual, years ago. She opened her eyes to find herself in her cell, but somehow she knew she wasn't awake.
“I have a task for you.”
As he detailed his plans for her, the wary look on Morgan's face slowly grew into a sinister smile. Serving the Keeper was going to be easier than she'd expected.
Chapter Five