Disclaimer: Don't own it. It all belongs to Starz.
Pairing: Merlin/Morgan.
This is a shit opening, I know, but stay with me people. These chapters will not be titled. And they will be short. And they will shift POV back and forth from Merlin to Morgan to Merlin, etc.
He could feel that a change was coming, but from where? His visions and the gods that gave him that gift had been silent, but he could feel it in his bones. He thought perhaps it would have something to do with Morgan.
She'd asked him, on that night when she'd drugged him, if he remembered her as a child. He'd lied, as he does so often. He remembered her very well. She'd not been a beautiful child. She'd has a wide, frog-like face and a gapping slash of a mouth. But her voice had been nearly the same and there had been an intelligent flash in her eyes that told him she would grow up to be so much more then her parents.
Igraine and Uther had made her bitter. Her stepmother and her father, who should have raised her themselves. But they were afraid. They had seen what he saw in her. And they were afraid.
He'd been right about her. She was intelligent and there was something about the rough scratch of her voice, like brushing velvet the wrong way, that was delicious. He sat now and watched her from across the hall as she spoke with Arthur, who was still a child and, as she's said, truly made of common clay. He had his work cut out for him, trying to mold that boy into a King.
He sighed. the child was a sorcerer's figurehead, but is that not what he had wanted?
His eyes tracked her movements, smooth like water and flowing just as nicely. He could feel the power she'd harness, even from this great a distance, and it frightened him. Even more than the power that resided in side his chest. Magically? She was much more powerful than he. But her control was so minimal and her knowledge too limited. The nun that had taken to trailing her about did not understand what she was toying with. She thought she knew and she thought she could help Morgan control it, but it would destroy them both very soon.
He sighed again.
He could not let that…intelligence…be destroyed by some petty vendetta the woman thought he had against her. He needed to speak with her. To help her, before it was too late. And if she renewed her childhood wish to be his bride? Well…he examined her again…he was no so apposed to that as he'd thought. At least he could not burn her like he could Igraine, who seemed to believe that a few moments of kindness was an invitation into his bed.