Nocturnal Rhymes
by SMYGO4EVA
Morgan le Fay was all powerful. In many eyes, however, she paled in comparison to Arturia, the one those same eyes called the true King. They both show great power and great promise. Morgan did both love and hate, while Arturia couldn't afford to be sentimental. She couldn't show any weakness, not with the throne and her kingdom as the price to pay. All that what should be have been rightfully Morgan's; such metallic, burning hatred seeped into her heart and coursed through her, for all time.
Morgan knew that Arturia couldn't allow herself to hold onto such bile and venom. Morgan held onto her own, as that was what kept her alive, empty and alive. But she could never forget her own experiences as a child raised on black magic and violence; her father's unflinching words and anyone who stared at her in pity and disgust lingered in her mouth like a poison. Arturia, her dear sister, was given warmth, love, and the destiny of becoming the true King of Britain, what she was denied. It was only fair that all of that was burned away with one small mistake, one that cost her dearly.
Morgan hated Arturia, even when she gave her King magic, such magic that gave her a child, a rightful heir to the throne, through unthinkable means. Morgan hated her King, even when she pressed her lips against hers. Their witching hour had passed. She brought her down into a darkness that she could never escape from unscathed, a cold darkness that brought her both an heir and a mark upon her precious kingdom. Morgan brought Arturia a darkness that was velvet, cocooning her in sweet relief and razor-sharp edges. She gave her a gift that was both Arturia's future and her own undoing.
She didn't think of the fact that her own realm, her own kingdom, was destroyed a long, long time ago, from her own actions and her magic. Morgan knew that love and hate were one and the same, even when only towards her dear Arturia.
