Disclaimer: Leggy and other cool and important people are not mine but I do own Morgause and Igraine...although i doubt anyone would ever want to use them for some unknown reason but if you do want to use them for some unknown reason, tell me 'cuz that'd be really, really cool!
Author's Notes: honestly, i have no clue where this story is leading, lol...i know how it is going to end and stuff but i don't know the middley part so bear with me folks! and big thanks to Domlando Blonaghan not just because i luv reviews but because it was really helpful and i was really happy and yeah....anyhoo...i hope everyone's still enjoying this fic....
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Morgause suddenly awoke and she didn't know why. Moonlight was shining in through the window and onto her bed, draping it in a glittering curtain. Shadows were creeping around in the corners of her bare room. She lay in bed, silently breathing when suddenly, she realized what had awoken her. There was someone in her room with her. Morgause drew her breath quietly. Who was it? Could it be someone that Igraine had sent in to kill her? He is known to do things such as this. The more she lay in bed, the more Morgause knew someone truly was in the room and that she was not just imagining this. From their presence, their faint breathing, Morgause knew that it was a young male, slight build, and nervous. Morgause slipt her hand underneath her pillow and felt around until her fingers brushed with the knife that she kept there. She curled her fingers tight around the hilt of the knife, it slipped around slightly in her sweaty palm. This would not do. She gripped it and lay there. Then, she leapt ot of the bed, and knocked into the figure that was crouching at the foot of her bed.
"Ugh," the figure grunted as she knocked the wind out of him. Morgause hit him underneath his ribcage and brought him to the ground, her knife blade shining in the moonlight, resting on his throat.
"Who sent you," she demanded, voice low. She had been correct, it was a young male and he looked scared. Probably a random novice but if he was so random, what was he doing lurking around in her room? The young man looked around, eyes darting frantically.
"Well?" she asked, digging the knife blade a bit closer to his skin. Choking slightly, he answered,
"My master sent me," he said. Morgause couldn't help rolling her eyes.
"And that would be...?" She hated vague people. They seemed dumb.
"Master Igraine, my only master," the man said, defiantly as if Morgause had just said that she hadn't believed him. When Morgause slightly lessoned the pressure on the blade, the man scurried away from her and jumped to his feet. He unsheathed the dirk that was fastened to his belt.
"I am a true follower of Master Igraine," he snarled. "I am not a traitor like you." He started to circle Morgause while she just watched him, bored.
"And a traitor would be...?"
"Everyone knows, you are no true dragon. You are nothing but a slut who has fallen in love with the Prince of Mirkwood."
"Do not speak of things you do not know of!" Morgause's voice rang out. "You know of nothing, you are only a novice."
"But am I not wrong in the fact that we are but the same age?" The young man looked smug.
"Age means nothing," Morgause spat. She too had her dagger raised and light glinted off both their blades. Morgause measured the man closely, watching for any flaws he might have in his combat. Suddenly, the man lunged, trying to catch Morgause off guard. Morgause merely flicked his blade away with a careless block with her dagger blade.
"Why will you not fight, coward?" asked the man, his face contorted. "Igraine cares naught for me, he only has eyes for you! You! You have no power, no skill." Again Morgause knocked the man down, her dagger now pointed at his heart.
"Do not question my skill or you will taste my blade." She twisted it slightly so that the point burrowed every so slightly into the man's tunic, tickling his skin. He wriggled, obviously uncomfortable.
"Leave now," Morgause ordered. "Before I change my mind and kill you." The man struggled to his feet and hurried out the door. Morgause sank back onto her bed. Why would Igraine send a man to look after her? Could it be that he did not quite trust her yet? If Igraine did not trust her, that would put her in a very uncomfortable position. He would be wary of her. She would have to regain his trust, for her own survival.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The next morning, Morgause was out in the shooting range again, one of her most favorite places to be. But today her mind was elsewhere.
"I heard an interesting story last night," a voice whispered in her ear. It took all of her training not to jump in surprise. It was Igraine.
"Of what, my lord?" she asked quietly.
"Of a woman who had spared a young man's life even though he was so noisily poking around in her room." Morgause stiffened. Was that man a test? Was she supposed to have killed him.
"And now I am wondering," said Igraine, voice almost purring. He sounded like a content and evil cat. "Why the woman had not killed the man for all the nuisance he was." Morgause's mind was racing. What could she say to regain his trust?
"I believe the woman might," she started, trying to hide her uncertainty. "I believe she was showing mercy. Even the greatest warriors show mercy. To show compassion would make others respect them more."
"Mercy is merely a weakness," said Igraine, voice sounding acrid and icy. He was angry, Morgause could tell.
"And I hope this 'woman' will not show mercy in the future or she will prove to not be the person that I believed her to be." Igraine wove his fingers through Morgause's hair and pulled slowly until Morgause's head was pulled back. It hurt and Morgause tried her best to keep the tears stinging in her eyes unnoticed. She twisted away to meet Igraine's eyes but dropped them immediately and fell down on one knee, head resting on the dirty outside floor.
"Forgive me, my lord, for this 'woman' had not known what thy master had wished for and now she knows." Igraine nodded, turned on his heel, and left, black, silk robes billowing in the wind. Morgause bit her lip until it bled. She wished not to be here anymore. She did not want any of this. And most of all, she wanted to be away, as away as humanly possible, from Igraine.
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*just plz tell me how i'm doing, that would be a big help. and what would u rather have done, morgause run away or her staying with igraine for a while? i'm toying with both ideas right now and they'd both end up with the same conclusion but i'm not sure which path to take at the moment.... plz help poor me out! lol..heehee...thanks for reading!
Author's Notes: honestly, i have no clue where this story is leading, lol...i know how it is going to end and stuff but i don't know the middley part so bear with me folks! and big thanks to Domlando Blonaghan not just because i luv reviews but because it was really helpful and i was really happy and yeah....anyhoo...i hope everyone's still enjoying this fic....
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Morgause suddenly awoke and she didn't know why. Moonlight was shining in through the window and onto her bed, draping it in a glittering curtain. Shadows were creeping around in the corners of her bare room. She lay in bed, silently breathing when suddenly, she realized what had awoken her. There was someone in her room with her. Morgause drew her breath quietly. Who was it? Could it be someone that Igraine had sent in to kill her? He is known to do things such as this. The more she lay in bed, the more Morgause knew someone truly was in the room and that she was not just imagining this. From their presence, their faint breathing, Morgause knew that it was a young male, slight build, and nervous. Morgause slipt her hand underneath her pillow and felt around until her fingers brushed with the knife that she kept there. She curled her fingers tight around the hilt of the knife, it slipped around slightly in her sweaty palm. This would not do. She gripped it and lay there. Then, she leapt ot of the bed, and knocked into the figure that was crouching at the foot of her bed.
"Ugh," the figure grunted as she knocked the wind out of him. Morgause hit him underneath his ribcage and brought him to the ground, her knife blade shining in the moonlight, resting on his throat.
"Who sent you," she demanded, voice low. She had been correct, it was a young male and he looked scared. Probably a random novice but if he was so random, what was he doing lurking around in her room? The young man looked around, eyes darting frantically.
"Well?" she asked, digging the knife blade a bit closer to his skin. Choking slightly, he answered,
"My master sent me," he said. Morgause couldn't help rolling her eyes.
"And that would be...?" She hated vague people. They seemed dumb.
"Master Igraine, my only master," the man said, defiantly as if Morgause had just said that she hadn't believed him. When Morgause slightly lessoned the pressure on the blade, the man scurried away from her and jumped to his feet. He unsheathed the dirk that was fastened to his belt.
"I am a true follower of Master Igraine," he snarled. "I am not a traitor like you." He started to circle Morgause while she just watched him, bored.
"And a traitor would be...?"
"Everyone knows, you are no true dragon. You are nothing but a slut who has fallen in love with the Prince of Mirkwood."
"Do not speak of things you do not know of!" Morgause's voice rang out. "You know of nothing, you are only a novice."
"But am I not wrong in the fact that we are but the same age?" The young man looked smug.
"Age means nothing," Morgause spat. She too had her dagger raised and light glinted off both their blades. Morgause measured the man closely, watching for any flaws he might have in his combat. Suddenly, the man lunged, trying to catch Morgause off guard. Morgause merely flicked his blade away with a careless block with her dagger blade.
"Why will you not fight, coward?" asked the man, his face contorted. "Igraine cares naught for me, he only has eyes for you! You! You have no power, no skill." Again Morgause knocked the man down, her dagger now pointed at his heart.
"Do not question my skill or you will taste my blade." She twisted it slightly so that the point burrowed every so slightly into the man's tunic, tickling his skin. He wriggled, obviously uncomfortable.
"Leave now," Morgause ordered. "Before I change my mind and kill you." The man struggled to his feet and hurried out the door. Morgause sank back onto her bed. Why would Igraine send a man to look after her? Could it be that he did not quite trust her yet? If Igraine did not trust her, that would put her in a very uncomfortable position. He would be wary of her. She would have to regain his trust, for her own survival.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The next morning, Morgause was out in the shooting range again, one of her most favorite places to be. But today her mind was elsewhere.
"I heard an interesting story last night," a voice whispered in her ear. It took all of her training not to jump in surprise. It was Igraine.
"Of what, my lord?" she asked quietly.
"Of a woman who had spared a young man's life even though he was so noisily poking around in her room." Morgause stiffened. Was that man a test? Was she supposed to have killed him.
"And now I am wondering," said Igraine, voice almost purring. He sounded like a content and evil cat. "Why the woman had not killed the man for all the nuisance he was." Morgause's mind was racing. What could she say to regain his trust?
"I believe the woman might," she started, trying to hide her uncertainty. "I believe she was showing mercy. Even the greatest warriors show mercy. To show compassion would make others respect them more."
"Mercy is merely a weakness," said Igraine, voice sounding acrid and icy. He was angry, Morgause could tell.
"And I hope this 'woman' will not show mercy in the future or she will prove to not be the person that I believed her to be." Igraine wove his fingers through Morgause's hair and pulled slowly until Morgause's head was pulled back. It hurt and Morgause tried her best to keep the tears stinging in her eyes unnoticed. She twisted away to meet Igraine's eyes but dropped them immediately and fell down on one knee, head resting on the dirty outside floor.
"Forgive me, my lord, for this 'woman' had not known what thy master had wished for and now she knows." Igraine nodded, turned on his heel, and left, black, silk robes billowing in the wind. Morgause bit her lip until it bled. She wished not to be here anymore. She did not want any of this. And most of all, she wanted to be away, as away as humanly possible, from Igraine.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
*just plz tell me how i'm doing, that would be a big help. and what would u rather have done, morgause run away or her staying with igraine for a while? i'm toying with both ideas right now and they'd both end up with the same conclusion but i'm not sure which path to take at the moment.... plz help poor me out! lol..heehee...thanks for reading!