So this is my first Merlin fanfiction woo hoo! :D I haven't written anything this close to smut before so I really didn't know whether to rate it M or not, please tell me if you think I have made the wrong decision.
Disclaimer: So yeah I don't own Merlin, and, if I did, I would bring Morgause back for good.
Near the entrance to the Cave of Albvius, beneath the darkened sky of Camelot, stood a beautifully statuesque sorceress, her blonde hair, almost like crackling flames, graced her strong shoulders and surged to the middle of her back. Her hazel eyes were as distraught as the nearby willows, though the intensity of her gaze spoke of large depth under her impassive shield.
"Volo'videre Arthur! Videam yfel Arthur!" The ambience was immediately electric with the guarantee of magic. Her enticing scleras were soon speckled with gold, transforming the air opposite into a spiralled gateway; various images swam inside. "Striga! Quemadmodum ego imperio!" The realistic figures halted at her words, her focus directed at one in particular. "Arthur…" She murmured, delighted.
Morgause felt the mood modify an instant before she heard the stifled movement.
Tearing away from the apparition, she twisted around, sword mobilised. The atmosphere shifted as a dagger smashed into the bark inches away from her skull. Three men, maybe four. Everything began to move in a calculated montage of sound and colour. She blinked; the nauseating faces of her enemies the only sight to form within her vision, the outside world having been morphed into a disorienting haze of adrenaline and hydrocortisone. Morgause smiled, quietly and suddenly confident.
"If you value your lives," she hissed indifferently, "You will back off now."
The soldiers scoffed and advanced, unaware of the consequences.
"You had your choice." Morgause brought her arms together into a strong stance, summoning the powerful enchantment needed. "Wace ierlic stupefaciunt percutitis!"
Her opponents were catapulted backwards, the soft cracking of their spinal cords heightening the violent attack.
"You need to teach me that sometime." An eerie voice issued from somewhere behind her, the soft tones contrasting to the deathly screams that were refused access to her hearing sometime before. Morgause span around gleefully and the person in sight won a rare smile - a fleeting reveal of emotion, although a genuine won nonetheless.
"S-s-sister!"
Morgana marched forward, the hem of her dress tearing at the foliaged path. She needed not care, for her older sibling, unbeknown to her, had left a repairing bond onto the rare, expensive fabric. It rushed and curled towards her feet, an elegant gown worthy of any queen. They embraced affectionately, and Morgause placed a tender kiss on her cheek.
"Looks like fun, when can I join in?" Cenred approached, amused. Morgause was immediately defensive, though her impassive façade stayed impressively indifferent.
"What business do you have here?" She asked, instantaneously stepping between the king and her relative.
"Morgana sent for me." Cenred inched closer, his body tantalising close, and reached to curl her beautiful, blonde locks around her ear. "You desire to play a little game."
"Just because you dress like a child doesn't mean you should act like one Cenrid. Games are for those with little capacity for anything else," Morgause retorted, rooted, although she would never admit it, to the floor beneath her feet. Cenrid smiled and planted his lips onto the gentle curvature of her neck.
"I beg to differ my dear Morgause. You see, games are such wondrous entities. Though not as wondrous as those who care to play them." His playful words sent the high priestess over the edge. Morgana smiled at her sibling fruitless attempts at concealment and excused herself without delay.
"Priestess. Come to me," Cenred whispered alluringly, "Join us together as one."
Their lips locked in a warzone of unacquainted passion, his tongue forced entry into the dark crevice of her mouth, not so much of a coward now. The moment had frozen; time was not constant here, even if love was. The blonde sorceress suddenly felt a sensation that was unknown to her and she was terrified. His rough hands forced their way through her scarlet dress to ascend the toned leg left uncovered. Morgause struggled to be free, her fingernails clawing frantically at those of the kings, to no avail. They tumbled backwards, only leaves to break their fall. Soon he had removed her undergarments, and she screamed bitterly, the sound echoing those that she had killed minutes before.
"Revenge is a dish best served cold." Cenred smirked vindictively, detaching the loosened armour from around his abdomen to reveal a gaping wound. A thick layer of skin had peeled away, resulting in a jagged edge of torn tissue, the seeping bodily fluid oozing onto the sterile floor. Morgause's eyes widened incredulously.
Before she remembered. It all came flooding back to her. Why the soldiers were taken out so easily. Why Morgana hadn't responded to her screams. And why the world around her now seemed to be disappearing.
Hell was a dismal place.
Hope you all enjoyed :D And please review, I don't bite... well, not certain people ;)