Please note!
In this story, Morgana is Princess, heir to her father- Gorlois's throne, they rule over Avalon and she and Arthur DO NOT know each other. Uther is not King and unlike the show, there are many Kingdoms but one crown, thus being only one Royal family. This story is strictly AU. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to PM me! :)
Chapter 1
The Princess and The Pendragon
The sun broke through the window with a welcoming glow, it illuminated the stone walls and made everything seem glorious and magnificent. It's wonderful rays caught the jewels laid bare in their box and made them gleam and sparkle like a thousand tiny stars, the rays remained still on one armchair, making one small ginger haired cat exceedingly happy as it laid curled in a content ball, soaking up the heat that the morning sun brought.
And finally, the rays shone brightly on a bed, the twinkling flash of the overly bright sunshine made Morgana snap her eyes open to the overbearing light, before she huffed and groaned and rolled over to face away from the horrid sunshine that had awoken her from a peaceful slumber.
The bright sun which was high and mighty in the sky, against a hazy blue sky meant that she would have to get up and spend her day doing nothing and everything at the same time. For she hadn't the faintest idea of what her father had planned for her, or whether he had planned anything at all; he was such an unpredictable King, it was true.
"You sleep in on such a wonderful day." Greta told her, the strong pang of her German accent glossed over every word, at first Morgana had a hard time hearing what she said, and when she was just a girl she had been as blunt and as rude to comment on it, but Greta had taught her manners and politeness, and now her accent was nothing at all.
"And you wake me from such a wonderful dream." Morgana groaned with a playful smirk as she pulled herself up from her warm bedclothes, not denying that the heat was now irritable, and instantly it had made her wide awake, she even wondered how she could sleep with such warmth radiating through her walls.
"Does father wish me to do anything today?" Morgana asked as she climbed out of her bed, feeling the full wrath of the sun on her skin as she leant on the stone wall and looked out to the courtyard below from the window of her bedroom.
"The King is off to Canterbury for the day, I doubt he'll be back until late this evening." Greta informed her as she made her way over to the bed Morgana had just climbed out of, beginning to make it neatly.
"Oh…" Morgana nodded, somewhat glad that she could spend this wonderful day doing nothing at all, she preferred it that way.
"Come, get dressed." Greta fussed, shooing her behind her changing screen. Greta was not one to see girls rise late and waste their day.
"Alright." Morgana frowned, giving her small attitude in her tone before she began to change, whilst Greta fussed around cleaning, and then she assisted Morgana with the fastening of her gowns and the doing of her hair.
…
The sun's rays beat down hard upon Morgana's head as she strolled through the forests, leaving her horse at the foot of the wood to bathe in the shelter of some trees. She felt the top of her head and it burned, her glossy black hair boiling from the heat of the sun. She was sweating a great deal, feeling all hot and bothered, her dresses were seemingly too thick for this type of weather, although Greta had told her that these were her 'summer garments', however Morgana thought it wise for her to invest in another dressmaker because these oppressive dresses were simply too warm in the flourished Summer heat.
She panted and huffed, as though the heat was draining all liveliness from her, she felt sticky and humid and overall quite horrible. Now, all she wanted to do was lie down on the soft patch of grass and let the sun have her, allow it to suck what energy remained in her limp body until the stifling heat finally absorbed her whole and made her eyes fall shut; the thought was heavenly, but she doubted Greta would be too pleased that the Princess was found sleeping in the middle of the forest, nor would Greta appreciate that she had ventured away out here by herself. Morgana had informed her over an hour ago that she was only going to stay in the Palace gardens, but such gardens got excessively boring- there was nothing to look at or see, it was just rows of short hedges with the odd rose bush here and there, with paved paths and everything was shut off with a thick, sandstone wall, so no one could see out nor in.
To Morgana a garden was something that grew wild and untamed, with fresh flowers blooming at every inch of space, where the birds nested in glorious tress that bordered its natural essences, instead of a stony wall that was consumed by hideous ivy.
Morgana let out a forceful sigh before she decided that she simply had to sit. Now she regretted coming here in this infuriating heat, she dreaded the walk back to her horse and the strength she'd need to kick it in the ribs to take her home. It was midday and the sun was at its peak in the blue sky, perhaps she'd wait a little while, until the sun sunk a bit and her energy would be restored, Greta would hardly notice.
Morgana sunk to the green grass; it was cool but had little relief from the bothersome sun. She sat back against a tree and yawned, feeling drowsy but the heat had made her content, if she thought about the warmth too much she was sure she'd faint, and the tiredness was captivating her.
The forest was thick and vast around her, but the path which led the way from the Palace to an outlining village laid bare, the mud had dried and turned to dust, Morgana heard the birds chirping and singing to one another, in truth it was a glorious day and she could complain all she liked but, it was her own fault for venturing so far on a day like today. Tomorrow perhaps she would sit in the gardens and draw, or even sew by her window- anything was better than what she had suffered today.
However, the loud melodic thuds of horse's hooves awoke her from whatever stance of slumber she was submerging in. It alarmed her, but not enough for her to want to get up; strangely. Until the thuds grew closer and closer, when it dawned on her that it was merely a passer-by, surely.
Morgana pulled herself from the grass, yawning and feeling that it would be best if she decided to head back now, Greta would scold her regardless as though she was her seven year-old self again.
She kept into the side of the path, careful that the commanding horseman didn't nip her toes.
She walked in the same direction of the horse, hearing the gallops slow behind her to a slow trot; she turned her head to see why he had slowed and not continued to plough past and ignore her.
The man sat atop his spirited white stallion, wearing armour and looking so brash and gallant, with daring sea blue eyes and striking blonde hair that the sun's rays danced upon in glorious splendour. His lips were pulled into the most charming smile and his eyes were as warm as the pleasing sun above.
To Morgana he seemed everything a bold and daring Knight should be, he seemed so adventurous, and he was so handsome, he looked picturesque right there upon the saddle of his horse, like something she would have found in many of her books about confident and swashbuckling Knights defending their Kingdom. Sadly, the Knights in her father's Kingdom didn't look so fetching.
Morgana realised she had forgot herself in the beauty of his appearance, and decided to shoot him a smile of her own, which he replied, making her heart dance and flutter in her chest. She worried that she might have lain in the sun too long and it had melted her brain to that it oozed down into the beating heart in her chest, so she was infatuated with the simplest thing. But then she looked at him again and wondered how she could be so silly, anyone would be captivated by such a bold looking man.
A glorious yet teasing smile played upon his lips as he moved slowly alongside her now on his horse. Morgana was simply smitten by it.
"What is a fine maiden like you doing wandering the woods all alone?" He asked, his voice would have had her weak at the knees; she was besotted in those sea blue eyes, taken by the rapture of his tone, that she almost forgot to answer his question.
"A Lady doesn't tell her business to strangers." She replied, the same teasing smirk plain upon her own lips as she gazed up to him bashfully, to hear a small abundant laugh escape his lips at her reply.
"Well, would you like to share my saddle and I can take you to the forest edge?" He asked, and she was sure now that his princely attire had won her over completely, to share a saddle with him, where she could freely wrap her arms around his waist, her fingers against the small links in his armour. She could grip him tightly and hold him to her, as though he was her prized possession, and just any excuse to be closer than she already was.
"That won't be necessary." She replied, wanting to kick herself silly when she did. "But my own horse waits just at the end of the path." She told him with a polite smile, although hating that she had turned done his friendly offer. Of course, it was the wisest thing to do. For, he would ask where she lived and she would have to say the Palace, and then he would either laugh in mockery or bow to his knees, and she wanted neither.
"Well then, perhaps I'll walk you to your own horse." He added, feeling confident and assertive that she could not escape. She nodded her head in agreement, wanting to spend a little while longer with this fine fellow on his stark white steed.
They walked in silence for a moment, the birds made up for any awkwardness as they sung merrily in their branches, but soon- the man spoke again.
"What is your name?" He asked, the light huffs from his horse made her glance up.
Name. She couldn't tell him hers, for then he would know she was royalty and then he would fall to her feet claiming silly titles and stating that he was 'honoured with such acquaintances', she was positive he would treat her differently, everyone did. There was something brash and contenting about him seeing her as a common maiden, he perhaps thought her the daughter of a blacksmith; but then she was dressed to finely for that. Perhaps the daughter of a Lord? There was still something thrilling about it all, regardless.
"I don't think I'll bother with names." She replied, the same coy tone playing over her lips as she glanced up at him once again, realising how beautiful he truly looked. "A name is just a name, nothing more. It's the person that counts." She told him, her tone beguiling and vexing.
"Well…" He replied after her words had seeped in. "I suppose you're right." He nodded, knowing she was correct in all her wisdom, who she was or where she was from; he had no idea, just that she looked utterly superb in her flowing lilac gown, her eyes were mesmerizing, they shone out bright green against her chalky skin, like dazzling emeralds against a bleached pallid rock, her hair hung in waves around her face, thick, dark and ravenous. She seemed so bold, so audacious in her ways, teasing and taunting him in her trifle little gestures; there was something about her…
But, before he could come up with another reply, he realised a horse stood in front of them; a dapple grey mare, which chewed at the green grass and gnawed it between its teeth like a farming cow.
"Well, it seems our journey is at its end." Morgana told him, sighing that she had to leave this stranger now, she was worried with herself however, she would have freely gone off with this man, allowed him to nestle her in the safety of his arms just because he looked daring and bold; he could be anyone. Yet, oddly enough there was something about him, something that meant she instantly trusted him, and it wasn't those sparkling sapphire eyes or that gracious golden hair, it was something she couldn't quite place…
Morgana pulled herself up upon her mare, grabbing the reigns and positioning herself like a true horsewoman. Looking to the man again, feeling her heart sink, that she might never see those eyes or that wonderful smile again, she knew she would be kept up in the haunting hours of the night remembering that face.
"Will I see you again?" He asked, trying to conceal the desperation in his tone, obscuring it with a more definite and assure attitude.
"Who knows?" Morgana replied teasingly. "Only time will tell." She spread her lips more evenly now into a fine smile, one that said everything she could not bring to words. She hoped she'd see this stranger again, she hoped she could have more than just a futile exchange of words, but a deeper, meaningful conversation. She highly doubted it however, she was heir to her father's throne, such wild and untamed romances only happened in novels, and as fleeting as ensnaring a romance with this man sounded, she understood that it could never be.
And, with a final glance at his beautiful face, she dug her feels into her horse's ribs and set off down the path, the only thing keeping her going was the extreme beauty of his face and how it lingered as vivid in her mind as it did in her heart.
…
"Where have you been?" Greta frowned furiously as Morgana sauntered through the castle.
"I was out riding." Morgana told her casually, giving a small yawn; how the day had worn her out, the sun had simply sucked every ounce of energy she had left.
"Riding?" Greta hissed, infuriated with the princess. "What have I told you about riding out alone, by yourself?" She placed her hands on her hips; her dark eyebrows pulled furiously, although Morgana would not meet her stern gaze, Greta always made a big deal over the silliest of things.
"Oh please Greta, I'm not a child!" Morgana rolled her eyes at how silly her maid was getting on over everything, making a fuss over nothing.
"No- you are a Princess!" Greta snarled angrily. "It is entirely inappropriate for you to be galloping out whenever you please." Her maid was growing more enraged and Morgana was sure smoke would fuse from her ears if she didn't calm herself down.
"And it's entirely inappropriate for you to be making such a fuss!" Morgana growled, walking past her maid, tossing her eyes again and huffing loudly as she marched up the stone steps, where she could sprawl herself upon the cool covers of her sheets and dream of the stranger in the woods.
"Your father is back! And he wants to see you urgently in his chambers!" Greta shouted after her, and Morgana froze on the stairs and huffed loudly. She was sure Greta had told on her, touted on her Lady like a small child would do, Greta was so immature and stupid sometimes. Now Morgana was sure she'd get a lecture from her father for straying away from the castle alone, he would shout and she would have to listen and nod along to his words, whilst he would accuse her of showing attitude, then he would continue with how she was 'heir to the throne', she could recite her father's scolding by heart now, and if her mother was there she would agree, nodding vigorously like an obedient dog.
…
"Come in." Gorlois said at the light knock from the door, seeing Morgana curl her head around the wood with a cheerful smile, a smile she only saved for her father.
"Morgana." He smiled sweetly and gestured for her to sit down across from him.
Morgana couldn't help but wonder why he seemed to upbeat and happy, wasn't he readying himself for shouting at her? His disappointed face would be better suited.
"I have news for you, urgent news." His gruff voice echoed through the room, packed out with bookshelves, whilst he dwindled over documents, she was surprised how he could work in such a dark room, and he was missing out on all the sunshine outside.
"Yes father, what is it?" Morgana asked precipitously, wondering what he could mean, or why any important council business would matter to her.
"We have visitors arriving… tonight." Gorlois spoke gravely now, as though something bad would occur, but he saw the obliviousness in his daughter's eyes, so he decided to go on.
"The Pendragon's- or one Pendragon seemingly." Gorlois told her, and Morgana felt her heart skip a beat, whilst she felt the smallest bit panicked.
The Le Fay's and Pendragon's never got along, for many, many years. Uther and Gorlois feuded aggressively, as did their ancestors and theirs before. Morgana had never met any of the Pendragon's before, and she was somehow glad she didn't have that inconvenience. Her father had always said they were low and conniving, treacherous and scheming, with not an ounce of gratitude in their heart.
"Why?" She spoke out at once.
"Uther writes… He claims his son, Arthur is passing through and he wonders if he would be welcome in my castle for a few nights." Gorlois played with the letter in his hand and growled under his breath as his stern grey eyes skimmed over the words.
"It's just like Uther… He has sent his son here for something… Why would a Pendragon be up around my territory, just passing through? He's up to something." Gorlois snarled and groaned angrily, before he met his daughter's eyes once again.
"Why do you hate him so much?" Morgana regretted the words as soon as they left her lips, but in truth she needed to know. All her life she had memories of her father growling on about these Pendragon's, all she knew was how they had disputed against her family, and these quarrel had lasted longer than her grandfather's time, but she had never been given a reason, and when she had asked she was scolded.
Gorlois sighed, he didn't get angry at his daughter for being curious, he suspected she would want to know, he would have to warn her after all, and that time had come.
Morgana knew little of how the war began; but her father had spoken briefly about it as she was growing up. The people of the land had forgotten the quarrel, and in truth no one really knew why it was still in place; if Morgana was to take her father's throne, she would need to know why these Pendragon's were so untrustworthy.
"The Le Fay's were magic born, many years ago…" Gorlois sighed finally, beginning the tale, looking sternly at his daughter, for Morgana needed to understand how serious this truly was.
"Magic?" Morgana repeated with her eyes wide.
"Yes." Gorlois told her. "Of course, as the generations passed, the magic slithered out; there isn't a living relative today with a drop of magic in their blood." Her father explained, but she already knew this, magic was rare and only a lucky few possessed the gift, all she possessed was hideous nightmares that haunted her in the darkness of the night.
"And, long before my time; the Pendragon's ruled the land." He said hatefully, the name 'Pendragon' slipping off his tongue like the bitter taste of lemon.
Morgana knew better than to say anything however, she sat content, letting him finish, all her questions would be answered in the end, she was sure.
"The Pendragon's didn't like magic; they burned our people, calling their gifts a curse." Morgana swallowed, knowing that the prospect of being burned at the stake seemed truly horrid, she had remembered the times when her maid would keep her from going near the window as a child, when her father- the King- burned people for their crimes, she would climb into her bed and curl in a ball, using the pillow to drown out the hideous cries from the people in agonizing pain, and as much as she begged her father, he told her that it was something a King must do, and something she would have to do one day, but she promised herself that there had to be an easier way to go rather than having amber flames lick and consume naked skin.
"So, our ancestors rose an army, a rebellion- magic is a powerful thing…" He spoke, his cold words making her shiver, and now she was glad she showed no signs of bearing a magical gift.
"They broke into Camelot, murdered the King and his wife, they used their powers for good." Morgana couldn't help but raise a brow at her father's words. She didn't count killing people as an act of good, but she knew better than to comment on it, her father would kick off in a rant of fury.
"They took the throne, we won it." Gorlois sounded so victorious, strangely it made Morgana feel slightly sick.
"You didn't win anything." She frowned, she wasn't sure what her father saw in this story, but she saw deceit and betrayal.
Her father's face changed into anger and irritation, it was then Morgana regretted not thinking before she spoke first.
"The Pendragon's killed our people!" He snapped; the lines on his face more prominent than before as he glared at Morgana, as though she was a stranger in his own Kingdom.
"And we killed theirs!" She growled back, her father didn't like when she raised her voice to him, but she didn't have a choice- how could her father possibly see any right in what he had told her?
"Would you rather our ancestors let the Pendragon's kill our people?" Gorlois asked bitterly, being patronizing in his tone as he glowered at her.
Morgana shook her head, knowing she would get absolutely nowhere with her father on this matter, so it was best to just back down and let him sing glory of this argument.
Gorlois saw that she looked regretful in what she had said, so he backed down in his chair and softened his tone. She was young, she would understand how it was someday, he only hoped; she was inheriting this Kingdom after all, she didn't want her to do something stupid- which brought them back to more pressing matters.
"Uther sends his son, I know it." He went back to their previous topic as he stared at her, longing her to see how serious this was. "Uther has always tried to steal back his throne from me…" Gorlois spoke bitterly and Morgana couldn't help but let a small smirk appear on her lip, she hid it immediately in case her father saw. Uther couldn't steal what was already his.
"And he has lost with me, we are both old men now… You are my heir, so he has sent his son to try and bargain my crown from you." Gorlois told her, this situation was more sombre now, Morgana would have to guard the throne like it was everything to her, and it was.
"Why doesn't he just start another war to win it back?" Morgana suggested, feeling slightly idiotic for proposing such an idea, she should be pleased he hadn't gone to such measures, but her father merely laughed at her recommendation.
"Because he would lose!" Gorlois chuckled, as though he were demeaning his daughter before him. "I'm a King, I have more armies and Knights that he could ever dream of- if he claimed war he'd lose within the hour." Gorlois laughed, Morgana picked up the sadism in his tone, and it scared her slightly, and made her feel uneasy.
"So, why don't you claim war?" Morgana felt much more confident with this suggestion.
"Morgana…" Uther shook off her silly suggestions and looked at her as though she were a small child. "Uther and I keep on good terms; we keep each other sweet; both of us want to avoid a war at any cost… I can't deny his son a place here or it will give him every excuse to rebel, but I need you to understand…" He took her hand in his own and met her emerald stare, an emerald stare she had inherited from her mother; thankfully she didn't inherit her mother's coldness.
"This boy- whoever he is; go on walks with him, talk to him, tell him what he wants to hear." Morgana nodded at his suggestions. "But, the throne is yours, not his- remember that. You must be strong and resilient to whatever he wants of you, and he will try his hardest to win you over." Gorlois explained and Morgana nodded, this seemed very serious.
"The Pendragon's are forbidden, remember that- keep away from them at any cost." Gorlois concluded and Morgana half smiled at her father.
"Don't worry father, I won't fall madly in love with this boy and run off and marry him in secret." She winked, adding some light heartedness to the situation, which seemed so very heavy.
Gorlois chuckled merrily, before he let go of her hand set back on his chair. That was another trait Morgana had taken from him, that daring and wicked sense of humour of hers.
"Now that really would mean war." He let out another chuckle before he glanced to the papers on his desk. "Go get ready for your guest." He shooed with another chuckle and she laughed in reply, before she left his chambers and headed to her own.
…
"Remember what your father told you." Greta fussed as she pulled the strings of Morgana's dress at the back, so the periwinkle blue gown fused in at the waist tastefully.
"I know, I know…" Morgana brushed her off. "I'll tell this boy what he wants to hear." She rolled her eyes at how much Greta seemed to get bothered by such things, and it was terribly annoying.
"Well, good-just as long as you listen." Greta gave a small frown, she still hadn't let their quarrel in the hallway go from earlier and how Morgana had disobeyed her, she often thought Morgana was too defiant, had she been her own daughter she would have found her own means of discipline.
"God Greta, I'm not going to latch onto the first man I see and fall madly in love with him, I'm not a parasite!" Morgana growled, Greta had such a bad understanding of young girls, but it was possibly because it had been so long since Greta had been a young girl herself, Morgana had always remembered her with dark hair which had violent streaks of grey striping through it, although her hair was always pulled back in a tight bun that made her seem scary and terrifying, Morgana always imaged her to be like the witches in her storybooks.
Greta frowned and tousled the rest of Morgana's hair, which flowed miraculously down her back, with either sides pulled back and fastened with a sparkling blue sapphire, Morgana couldn't help but be reminded of the stranger in the woods when she saw it, and she sighed like a lovesick fool at the memory.
"I think it's completely ridiculous that I have to get all dolled up at this hour of the night, I'll only be greeting him and then be returning to bed." Morgana rolled her eyes, everything was so stupid. Couldn't the servants greet him and she could acquaint herself with him come morning?
"He is a Pendragon!" Greta hissed, and Morgana rolled her eyes a second time.
"Alright Greta." She nodded quite patronizingly as she made for the door and left, walking down the corridor carefree of the crimes she seemed to have committed against her maid, she couldn't help but hear Greta muttering under her breath however, it only made Morgana chuckle.
…
Oscar, the tall and rather awkward looking Guard who stood at the top of the stairs smiled to her, Morgana liked him more than anyone in the castle. He had always been there, for as long as she could remember, although he really wasn't that much older than her, she could tell him absolutely anything, and he would always keep her secrets and defend her when Greta came to scold, and Greta loved to scold.
"He's just arrived." Oscar informed her as she passed. Morgana sighed, but her smiled remained prominent.
"Thank you, I'm rather curious as to who these Pendragon's are…" She gave an inquisitive peek over the banister. "I hope he's nice to look at." She confessed but laughed, in truth she didn't really care, but it would help, considering she had to spend so much time with him.
"Well, I doubt he could resist such beauty anyway, despite his looks." Oscar gave a little wink and Morgana laughed in a moderate tone, not loud enough for the man downstairs to raise a brow.
With that little reserved remark, Morgana made her way downstairs, to see this man; the Pendragon. She sighed and wished it was over, hoping in all truth that he would leave sooner than hoped; it was bad enough having a day dominated by her father, let alone having to entertain a stranger. However, he might be nice and sweet and kind and she might enjoy his company, but she doubted it, these Pendragon's were treacherous after all.
Finally he came into her sight, and Morgana's mouth fell ajar. In all beauty and exquisiteness that he was, surely nothing could have prepared her for this.
His hair was a dashing shade of golden blonde, and his lips were pulled into the same courteous smile she remembered, he looked just as bold and as charming as he had done when she last set eyes upon him, maybe even more so. He looked rugged and burly; the hair that would have usually hung down his forehead was swept back, stuck with the sweat of the summer heat. But the thing that shone out most from his valiant attire, was his beautiful shining sapphire eyes, that twinkled and gleamed in the low candlelight, they had her smitten and truly besotted, Morgana almost felt her heart melt and ooze in her chest when her eyes were brought back to those charming, full moist lips of his…
"Princess Morgana." He bowed, awakening her from the dream she was sure had captivated her. Arthur neared her, and grasped her shoulders, planting a delicate kiss on her cheek.
He smelt so masculine, of sweat mixed with brash battle and bold courage. Everything a man should smell like, as though he had stepped out of one of her dreams, although she knew there would be no sleeping for her tonight, for now the reality was better than the dream itself.
"Arthur… I believe." She spoke finally, her voice crisp in the low wrath of the moment she had swept herself up in.
"Are we bothering with names?" Arthur cheekily raised a brow at her, and she blushed, wanting to kick herself for acting like such a fool- she had to be bold and resilient, strong and brave like her father had said.
"Hush- someone might hear." She told him, with a vexing smile apparent on her lips, as she glanced to the many guards behind her, and Greta who stood atop of the staircase, still with that unflinching frown on her brow.
"Welcome to Avalon." She said her Kingdom's name with pride, but her smile was unfaltering to the man before her. "We are so happy to have you with us; I hope you enjoy your stay." She spoke loudly, so everyone around her would hear, she had to keep up appearances after all.
"Thank you, Milady." He gave a small curtsey, but his smile was so playful it was hard to take him seriously.
"I'm sorry my father could not be here to great you- he will be will us tomorrow for breakfast tomorrow however if you wish to join us." She explained, feeling so false, she barely ever spoke like this, with her mannerisms and that, but if she didn't Greta would tell her father and her father wouldn't be best pleased, especially when there was a Pendragon involved.
"It would be a pleasure." He told her, and she gave a small nod to his approval.
Morgana turned to leave, stealing one last glance at his perfect face, a face she was sure she'd never see again, but it seemed this man was no longer a stranger, this man was her enemy. And as ravishing as he looked, she could never have him, she had to be faithful to her father, this was his Kingdom and she would inherit it one day.
But there was no harm in looking.
A/N
Hello! Another story from me, it's becoming an addiction I'm afraid. Anyway, I feel confident enough with this story, I have quite a lot planned for it. Hmm, but it would be lovely if you could all tell me what you think of this first chapter! :) I thought it would be a nice AU for Morgana to be the Royal one for once! I'm sorry this chapter is so horribly niche however! I promise the next chapters won't be like that. Forbidden Love really defines this whole story, so if you're into that then I'd urge you to keep reading if you like what you've already read… I'll shut up now, and hope all you lovely people are kind enough to share your thoughts on it! :D
I also apologize for any stupid mistakes that I've become prone to making…
